#these lyrics on him? ugh. so peak. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

malarkgirlypop · 6 months ago

Text

MEDIC! Part 29 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Listen when I say these characters have a mind of their own, I mean it. I was just chilling writing the start of the last episode and then all of a sudden boom, we kissing and shit. Like ah excuse me, this wasn't in my plan, what are we doing? But hey they deserved a we treat and I mean so do we. So this chapter is definitely rated, if you aren't over 18, back! Back, I say! 🤺

TW: sexy time lmao, long chapter

Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, not hate to anyone involved.

Tag list: @imusicaddict, anyone else please let me know.

We entered Bavaria in early May, and we had been tasked in capturing Berchtesgaden. It was a town high in the Alps, and was the symbolic home of the Nazi party. Apparently all of the important men of the party had houses there. Even though the man was dead, Hitler had ordered the SS to make it their last stand to keep the enemy out of their “sacred” town.

I sighed, staring at the mass of boulders that blocked our way up the mountain, the hot sun beating down on my back. We had been stuck here for hours, waiting for someone with more artillery than we did, so we could blast our way through.

I hummed a tune twirling a curl around my finger, trying to remember all of the words to the song I had stuck in my head. I couldn’t for the life of me remember the lyrics, only the melody played on and on in my mind.

Lieb leaned against the wheel next to me smoking. “How long does it take for engineers to arrive?” I asked while shielding the sun from my eyes as I looked over to Lieb.

“Who knows?” He said while taking a deep drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke in my face.

“Lieb!” I whined pushing him away as he chuckled.

“Stop humming, you’re driving me insane.” He retorted, shoving me back. “You just keep repeating the same part over and over again. You’re just as bad as Web and his stupid quotes from his literature.” I gawked offended by his comment, no way I was as annoying as Web.

“Ugh, rude!” I got up from my position, dusting the dirt off the back of my pants. Lieb grinned at me, knowing he had wound me up.

“Stop smirking!” I nudged his leg with my boot. “Take it back!” I crossed my arms over my chest, giving him my best pissed off face.

“You’re not as annoying as Web.” Joe held his hands up in surrender. I laughed, smiling down at Lieb, who grinned back at me.

“What about me?” Web startled me as he snuck up from behind. My eyes grew wide, plastering a smile on my face.

“Web you need to stop sneaking up on me, seriously.” I burst out laughing, fortunately he hadn’t heard what we were talking about.

I loved Web, he was so sweet, but his endless love for literature got very tiring. Somehow the conversation with him always ended in his love of books and all things written. Half the time I had no clue what he was talking about, I would nod and smile adding in, “Oh that’s so interesting.” But I wasn’t listening by that point anymore.

“We were just talking about how long it would take the engineers to arrive.” I skipped over the most recent conversation we had, I didn’t want to hurt the poor man's feelings.

“I think they are going to try something right now. Everyone is getting tired of waiting.” Web pointed to the pile of rocks that blocked the road.

I peaked my head over the truck to catch a glimpse of two soldiers standing in the middle of the road with one of the bazooka's we had with us. I covered my ears just in time to muffle the explosion that blasted into the debris.

“I don’t think that will work.” I huffed, it had hardly made a dent in the huge pile.

“No, but that does look fun.” Web grinned admiring the massive explosion.

“Yeah!” Lieb launched to his feet. “Web, we should go help.” Web and Joe excitedly nodded at each other racing off to the front of the road.

“Ok, bye.” I said to the pair's back as they enthusiastically scurried away.

I slumped down again, the same song still stuck in my head.

“Aw, Em.” A large hand reached down and ruffled my hair. I looked up to find Bull standing over me.

“They ditched me, for explosives. Can you believe that?” I asked in astonishment.

A wry grin formed on Bull’s lips, he tilted his head to the side with a hearty chuckle. “I can’t say I am, little lady.” He said in his thick country accent.

“No you’re right. I’m not shocked.” I laughed, shaking my head.

I looked over to find Web and Lieb stacking grenades on the landslide of rocks. They sprinted back to where the two other soldiers stood still with the bazooka. Their grin’s were child-like as they ran back.

Bull and I watched them, laughing at how excited they all seemed to be. Was it really that much fun blowing things up?

They didn’t wait long, firing the rocket right into the pile of explosives the pair had set. The ground shook, as the booming echoed around the mountains. But still the pile of rocks seemed to remain the same, at least they were having fun. It was nice to see genuine smiles on their faces.

“Easy!” Speirs yelled from the front of the trucks. “Let’s move out!” Spiers grinned widely with a skip in his step as he made his way back through the parked vehicles.

“Are we not waiting for the engineers anymore?” I leaned over to Bull.

“Guess not.” Bull smiled. “We better get moving, come on.” He took me by the crook of my arm, leading the way behind Speirs who was getting together all of Easy so that we could leave.

*****************************

“It’s so quiet.” I whispered to Don as we walked. He nodded in agreement before turning back to the task at hand.

Easy Company tiptoed silently down the empty streets, the group had found an alternative route up the mountain. We had been told to be on guard, and to expect the unexpected.

So the soldiers walked through the streets with their weapons drawn, readying themselves for whatever was waiting for us.

The town was eerily still, white flags hung from the windows of the houses we passed. The town appeared empty, there was no one present. The deserted village sent shivers up my back. Something that should be so busy and bustling with life now sat forlorn and abandoned.

Still I couldn’t deny that the place was beautiful even in its abandonment. The houses looked cosy and quaint as the tall mountains loomed over the small village.

My eyes darted from one place to another, taking in all the sights that laid before me. A large red banner caught my attention.

“Jesus.” I muttered to myself, eyes practically bulging out of my head as I took in the large swastika that covered the building in front of us.

It was strange to see a symbol that meant peace and well-being have such a sinister feeling now attached to it.

“Well, they really weren’t hiding it were they.” Grant said from beside me as we both gawked at banner’s.

“Nope.” I agreed with the man.

We made our way inside the big building that had ‘Berchtesgadener hof’ proudly displayed over the entrance.

“Was it a hotel?” I leaned over to whisper to Don as we walked inside what appeared to be the foyer.

“I think so.” Don confirmed.

Like the town the hotel was just as quiet, no guests seemed to be staying or staff either.

I shied away from the brass sculpture of Hitler, that was prominently displayed in the middle of one of the rooms we walked through as we continued to search the building.

A clanging made me jump from my skin, we rounded the corner to find a lone clerk being held at gunpoint by Lew. His eyes darted from Nixon to the rather large book that sat on the desk.

“Looks like a guest book.” I said loudly, glancing over to Lew who nodded his head.

“Everyone who was anyone signed into this hotel. And now we have all the dates and names of anyone who ever supported Hitler in his plans.” Lew said as he flicked through the book.

“Guess there are staff after all.” I mused, watching the clerk scamper away.

************************************

Don and I walked around together forgetting the mission at hand, being too caught up in the lavish hotel.

“Should we sneak into one of the rooms? See if the bath works?” Don asked suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows at me.

“Donald!” I giggled at the man giving him a whack. “No, well. No, we couldn’t. Well.” I debated the very enticing idea.

“Oh come on! Speirs is probably out there now stealing all the silverware.” Don grinned at me, his fingers finding the nook of my arm to bring me along in his mischief.

“Fine! We will look, quickly.” I added but not putting up much of a fight as Don dragged me down one of the halls.

We pried open one of the doors, standing in the entrance way admiring the room. In the middle of the room sat a giant four poster bed. The duvet looked elegant, satin and lace coverings, with large fluffy pillows adorning the head. Across the room a tall window opened up, looking over the alps that surrounded the town.

Don and I moved further into the room, finding our way into the bathroom, which seemed to be even bigger than the master suite. A white clawfoot bathtub stood proudly in the middle of the space.

The far side of the room was taken up by a vanity that covered the width of the wall, with large basins that you could bathe in, if you so wished.

“Fucking hell.” I uttered, completely in awe of it all.

“Yup!” Don nodded as we looked over all of the interior. Even the ceilings were beautiful, fluffy white clouds and the bluest sky had been painted onto the roof of the bathroom. Gold accents of branches and leaves vined out into the sky. Everywhere my eyes could see the room was filled with exquisite details.

“It’s stunning.” I couldn’t pick my jaw off the floor.

“Eh, it’s alright. I’ve seen better.” Don shrugged, not seeming impressed with the glamour.

“What?! When?” I asked in disbelief.

“I have, truly.” I shook my head scoffing at him.

“When?” I eyed him suspiciously.

“Well.” Don started slowly making his way over to me. His stride was confident, freezing me in place. I sucked in a breath as he drew near, suddenly it wasn’t funny anymore. The look in his eyes sent the butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy.

“There’s you.” Don had moved closer to me, my back pressed into the cold marble basin. My breath hitched in my throat as he leaned even further into me.

We weren’t even touching yet, but the way Don took up the space had me stunned into silence.

“You’ve gone all quiet on me.” He teased, deliberately placing his hands either side of my body, caging me into him.

Goosebumps rose on my skin, I felt my cheeks flush. How had he turned this around so quickly?

“Emily?” My full name dripped off his tongue, as he smirked at me tilting his head ever so slightly. He knew what he was doing to me.

I swallowed, trying to find my voice again.

“What are you doing?” I asked softly, scared if I raised my voice too much it would disturb whatever was happening.

“Nothing.” Don breathed, leaning further forward. “Is there something you want me to do?” His whispers tickled my neck. I hid away the sensitive skin, turning to meet his gaze.

My heart pounded in my ears as our eyes locked. His stare was full of want, I almost melted into a puddle right then.

“Stop teasing me.” I pleaded. The tension was overwhelming but exhilarating at the same time. It felt as if I was a raw nerve, the slightest of touch would set me on fire.

“Oh my love, I’m not teasing.” Don smiled, but it wasn’t his normal smile. There was another intention behind it. I gasped as his hand cupped my cheek gently tracing over my jawline, it was only a slight brush but I found myself leaning into his palm. He didn’t give me the satisfaction, stealing away the brief contact.

I glared at the man. Don was clearly teasing me.

“Don.” I protested, trying to find his hand to bring back up to my face. But instead he found me first, holding my wrist still.

I tried again with my free hand but it was no use Don had me pinned.

I groaned in frustration.

“You’re teasing me.” I whined, huffing.

My annoyance didn’t seem to deter Don from his antics. He moved forward his mouth inches away from my ear.

“You have to ask nicely.” Don’s lips brushed over the sensitive skin of my jaw. I suppressed a moan by trapping my lip between my teeth.

“Please. Donald Malarkey, you have me. Now do something about it.” I challenged him.

A smile formed on his lips but I only saw it for a split second before his lips crashed into mine. I sighed into the kiss as his hands cupped my face pulling me closer to him. My hands roamed around his body, tracing anything I could get my hands on. I didn’t realise how much tension had built from our last kiss, but I needed him so badly it hurt.

Don swiftly lifted me up, sitting me on the edge of the basin as we continued to kiss. I opened my mouth as our tongues swirled together. It was an addiction, I couldn’t get enough. I needed him closer. I grabbed at the fabric that impeded me from Don.

I tugged off his jacket, too busy kissing him to see where I threw it. Don’s hand’s did the same pulling the material from my arms tossing the item to the side. I gasped as he pulled me forward, sliding me to the very edge of the bench. Don pressed himself to me, even with pants on I could feel everything.

“Off, I need this off!” I said breathlessly, pulling at his collar. I helped him tug off the t-shirt, admiring his body lovingly. I raked my fingers down his chest, sliding my hand below his belt. Don shuddered seemingly immobilised as I palmed his front.

Don snatched my wrist, a wry grin forming on his features, “We have plenty of time for that later.”

A pout formed on my lips. He moved forward kissing me gently. Unlike before he savoured the kiss. Don’s lips moved over my face, gently placing kisses at the corners of my lips, by the creases of my eyes, my temples and cheeks. His touch was so soft but everytime he moved to a different spot I could still feel the last caress.

I captured his face in my hands, my thumbs tracing over his features. With each movement I kissed him gently.

I sighed in pleasure as Don’s hands found the small of my back pulling me even closer.

“Take it off.” I begged, needing the fabric that separated us to be removed. Don’s finger’s found the hem of my shirt, slowly dragging it up my body. I arched into him, enjoying the feeling of his fingertips brushing on my skin.

Don threw my top to the side, I didn’t have the patience to be admired just yet, still sporting a bra. I brought his hands around my back to the clasp.

He made quick work of the fastening. I felt it loosen from my back as he pulled the straps over my shoulders and down my arms.

I sat half naked watching Don take me in. He blew out a breath, shaking his head slightly.

“Fucking hell. And you’re all mine.” Don said to himself, I giggled at him.

“Donald, stop gawking and kiss me.” I said my tone was playful. But I didn’t need to tell him twice. He moved forward pressing us together, his fingers dragged down my exposed back sending shivers up my spine.

Don’s head dipped down to my neck slowly trailing his lips down my skin. I leaned back enjoying the feeling of his tongue swirling down my body. I gasped when his mouth latched onto the soft flesh of my chest.

Don’s lips nipped and sucked, finding his way down to my erect nipple. His other hand massaging my other breast as he assaulted my nipple with his mouth. I leaned my head back, mouth open in pleasure, moans and gasps fell from my lips in hasty succession.

He moved to my other breast giving it the same treatment as the previous. I panted and bucked against him, the feeling of his kisses and hands sending me spiralling.

“Fuck! Holy fuck.” I groaned watching him enjoy me. The wetness between my legs somehow grew more. I pulled his face back up to mine, needing his lips on my own again.

My hands snaked down to his pants, trying my best to undo his belt while not being able to see. It was harder than I thought, after a while of fumbling around I finally pulled away to glance down at what I was doing.

“Desperate?” Donald asked, smirking. I didn’t even deny it, breathlessly nodding my head while still trying to yank the belt from his pants.

“I have waited far too long for a belt to put a stop to it.” I groaned, still failing at the simple job.

“You’ve waited, oh my love, you don’t know the half of it.” Donald’s hands found mine, taking over the task. I watched him easily pull the belt free and remove it from his trousers. Don undid the button, loosening them around his hips. I greedily licked my lips moving my hands to his waistband tugging them down. I bit my lip, a shy smile formed on my mouth.

I couldn’t wait any longer, my own hands unbuttoning my pants and trying my best to shimmy them down while still being perched on the counter.

“So impatient!” Don tutted, his arms lifting me so I could successfully pull down my clothing.

I kicked off the green cargo pants, leaving us both in just our underwear. I giggled, somehow the innocent looking in the rooms had gotten out of hand.

Don kissed me again, his fingers lazily dragging around my body and into my hair. I did the same, tangling my fingers in his and pulling gently. A low moan left his lips as he moved his mouth over mine. The electricity between us was almost palpable, with every touch and sound I could feel the lustful energy flowing through my body.

I yelped in surprise as Don lifted me so easily from the basin. I didn’t look where he was taking us too busy assaulting his face and neck with kisses.

We landed gently on the decadent bed, but Don and I were too enraptured in each other to truly appreciate the comfort of the soft mattress and the silk sheets against our skin.

Don ran his fingers down my side, teasingly stopping around the hem of my underwear. He pulled it back, snapping the waistband against my skin. In the same movement Don dipped his head down, trailing soft kisses down my skin and stopping near my collarbone to nip at the sensitive skin.

His hand slipped down between my thighs, caressing around my hips. I rocked back, eyes closed in pleasure. I couldn’t stifle the loud moans that fell from my lips.

I could feel his smirk as he placed more feverish kisses around my navel, his hands roaming around my thighs never quite landing where I needed them too. Don was making me beg for it.

Don’s touch continued down towards my hips, his lips finding the right spots to make me squirm and bite my lip in desperation.

“Don.” I pleaded through my pants.

“Yes my love?” He said with a smirk, as his kisses wandered down, his touch still tantalising and teasing. I could feel Don’s breath against my core, as he continued to run his fingers along my inner thighs.

“Stop teasing me!” I whined.

Don chuckled at my pleading, looking up at me with a devilish smile. I watched as he bit my inner thigh gently in response.

“Beg for it.” He said in a low husky voice that was filled with desire.

“Please Donald, make me feel alive!” I begged, feeling so vulnerable in his arms.

“I love you.” Don said before he pulled my underwear from my body, taking his time admiring me placing sweet kisses to the soft skin between my legs. I groaned as his mouth found my core, his hot tongue swirling over my bud of nerves.

I cried out in pleasure as he feasted on me, I gripped onto his hair hanging on for dear life as he shook me to my core. I trembled in ecstasy as Don’s tongue dipped inside of me.

Don seemed to enjoy seeing me come undone, moaning against my core. His fingers slipped inside of me pulling in and out with force.

I threw my head back screaming into my free hand that covered my mouth. I arched and bucked against his every move. Don’s free hand pinned me to the bed to stop me from escaping the overwhelming feeling that rippled throughout my body.

He sucked and nipped at my sensitive core as he worked his fingers in and out of my entrance.

Bright colours swarmed my vision as I shook, I had reached my climax. I held onto Don, the only thing that seemed to be grounding me to reality. It felt as if I had left my body, floating above the scene that was playing before me. Don did not stop his movements, riding out the orgasm as long as he could.

My breath left me as I writhed under his touch, I didn’t think that it could last long, but I was still overcome by my euphoric satisfaction.

Finally he let me come down, pulling away from my core. I caught my breath, eyes still closed trying to come back to the real world, rather than the cloud I was floating on.

“I think you were trying to kill me.” I panted as Don moved back up to kiss me gently on my lips.

“What’s more alive than being nearly half dead?” Don chuckled as he lay against me, his fingers tangling into my hair and pulling me towards him. He rested his forehead against mine, our breaths mixing together as we enjoyed the quiet moment.

I closed my eyes enjoying the simple sounds, his soft breaths fanning on my face, and the quiet heartbeat that pulsed against my own chest. I kissed him again, I kissed him like I would never see him again.

My hands travelled down his torso, it was my turn to show him how much I loved him. I palmed his hard cock through his underwear. Don groaned into my mouth, keeping his eyes squeezed shut.

I trailed my kisses down his neck, chest and stomach. Don sighed in pleasure, lying his head back against the bed. Every touch under his hands and the feeling of his skin on mine, I felt the love and desire he had for me, I wanted him to feel the same as I kissed him. I wanted to make him want me more than ever.

I let my tongue drag down his hips, swirling over the sensitive skin. I needed to drive him insane with desire, like he had me only moments before.

Tugging down his briefs his hard cock sprung free. I tossed the item of clothing to the side. I bit my lip taking in his size, how he had hidden that from me I had no idea. I wrapped my hand around the base stroking my thumb gently up the shaft. Don shuddered under my grip, groaning huskily.

Don propped himself up on his elbows and I started slowly moving my hand up and down his length. I licked my lips desperately wanting to taste him.

“Jesus christ Emily, you’re going to be the death of me.” Don muttered a mix of shock and pleasure on his face.

I grinned. I continued to stare at him as I moved forward, my tongue darting out to swirl around his tip. His cock twitched in my hand, Don looked as if he was going to pass out.

“Now who’s teasing?” He leaned forward brushing a curl out of my face. I wrapped my lips around him sucking. Donald inhaled sharply tensing under my touch. I moved further down, bringing more of him into my mouth. Don’s breaths grew uneven as I continued.

I bobbed my head up and down, taking as much of him as I could into my throat. My hand still gripped the base of his cock moving as I sucked and licked.

“Oh god!” Donald moaned watching me with lust filled eyes.

I pulled back sucking in air as I continued to massage his cock with my hand. Don gripped onto the bed sheets panting heavily. His fingers weaved into my hair, gripping just as tightly as he was the fabric under him. I continued my assault, my pace becoming faster.

“Don’t stop my love.” He begged, he was almost to his limit. I did as he asked, continuing my rhythm.

“I’m going to cum!” Don whined pulling back from me, but I held his hips steady, looking up at him through my lashes. I wanted to taste him like he tasted me. I didn’t stop, bobbing my head and sucking. I felt his body jolt under me, hot liquid filled my mouth as I watched Don’s eyes roll back in his head.

“Em.” Don breathed, sitting up from his position and moving down to where I knelt between his legs. His hands cupped my face peppering my skin with light kisses. Don pulled me up to him, as we laid back down against the bed, limbs tangled and bodies entwined. A moment of pure serenity as we embraced each other, basking in the warmth of one another.

“I love you.” I whispered as we gazed into each other’s eyes.

“I love you.” Don lips brushed against my skin.

“Guys we’re leaving!” The door burst open as Babe and George sauntered into the room. Both Don and I screamed in surprise, scrambling to hide ourselves. Don dove over me, covering my body with his. His ass out in the wind for all to see. George and Babe’s eyes bulged seeing their friends bare butt pointing right in their direction.

“Get out!!” Don screeched, as I hid beneath him trying to contain my fit of giggles.

“Oh my god!” George gasped covering his mouth as Babe stared wide eyed at us.

“Guys get the fuck out, right now!!” Don demanded the men leave. But it still didn’t work, the pair didn’t budge.

“What is going on here?” George asked through bouts of laughter he shared with Babe.

Don grabbed the nearest pillow chucking at the heads of the two men who were crying with laughter.

“OUT!” Don yelled, but he was trying not to laugh as well. I wrapped my arms around his waist keeping him close to me. Don was the only thing keeping my naked body out of sight of the pair of idiots who howled with laughter in the still wide open door.

“Fine, we will go. But it’s going to cost you.” George waggled his finger at us as he hauled the still hysterical Babe out of the room. The door clicked shut, as it did so both Don and I sighed in relief.

“You didn’t lock the door!” I playfully smacked his chest as he grinned down at me.

“Neither did you!” But we couldn’t stop our own giggles from escaping our lips.

---------------------------------

Chapter 30

31 notes · View notes

redpiperfox · 4 months ago

Text

YO ITS A SKZ ALBUM YALL

and i always do a listen-thru but very rarely post my commentary on it but @shoulderscars was hysterical as we listened to it, so yall get a listen-thru of Stray Kids' Ate ~

MOUNTAINS

If there's something the kids have gotten good at, it's hitting their stride with an album opener that doubles as a concert-hyper. It's heavy steps, very much the storm circling the top of the peak, absolutely the pantheon Han raps about lookind down their noses as the thunder builds behind them. Heavy atmospherically. Bop.

Chk Chk Boom

youtube

[CHOKES, GAGS, LOSES BREATH--]

From every single teaser to when we got the whole chorus early, I knew I was obsessed. I am obsessed. What's in this song, cocaine???? Why is it so good?!??? The m/v plays into the fun, cocky character of Stray Kids. The cameos are adorable. The video has so much replayability. The song can literally be looped for hours on end (WHAT. IS IN. THE TRACK. 3RACHA. WHATDIDYOUPUTINIT--)

It reminds me of 16 Shots (I need an edit of this song over Chaeyeon's aotm cover. I need it yesterday), it's Itzy's Loco married to Kill Shot, it's nothing like kpop and everything you'd expect from skz.

JJAM

I was giggling as I read the lyrics the whole time, WHAT UNSERIOUS LYRIC WRITING LMAAAOOOOO XD This song is if Changbin's Doodle and Item had a baby together, it's so quintessentially Stray Kids playing in their music lab with their favorite elements XD Like their Tortoise and the Hare experiments revisited!

I Like It

I had warned my sister "it's about a jerk." We read the lyrics as we listened and @shoulderscars literally said "No, it's just about a man." and she's so right for that XD It reminds me of the other side of Sorry, I Love You-- funny how invested Changbin was in writing those opposing perspectives, but that's neither here nor there XD It's got the elements of a mainstream chill song, with the addition of tinny and hip hop production elements to make it skz, and as a track, it's a bop.

Runners

Chan described this as running on a cliff's edge with the kids, and that's exactly how it feels. Mountain's lightning and thunder breaks into emotional rain every now and then, and the wind carries right behind them in a way that reminds me of a slightly more emotional Pacemaker (another Go Live/In Life track, eyyo XD) or the road up Mount Olympus that takes you to the storm of Mountains. Also, um, I know ChanLix written, but the second verse straight up written by gamer-boy Felix XDXDXDXD

twilight

I LOVE. UGH. OOF. GAH. THE PIANO? THE TRACK? THE MELODIES? I won't even go too deep into the lyrics, because they're very poetic, very Han-pop, but my love is solely and completely based on the production of this song-- I love how my love for Han and Bae's 5,4,3,2,1 set me up to love him trying this jazz-inspired element, because that jazz tone is something in chill-listening I wish we'd hear more of! Vocalization and phrasing in this also make my insides SO happy, it's that purpling skz, a noir film and the bottom of a bottle left behind to follow cobblestones by the water next to the city, the shadow of a brimmed hat under streetlamps, the mellowed lights of a city falling asleep~

Stray Kids

Cute. I love putting this next to Twice's Celebration, in terms of a track that both looks back and forward, and for a moment not really knowing how the future will play out, but in full joy of contract renewals and all that. I can imagine this being important to concert setlists, an ode to unity.

Chk Chk Book (Festival Ver.)

XD Yeye faster, faster, FASTER-- I love how this and rock vers and just giving the people what they /expect/ from the genre they're dipping they're paintbrushes into. LaLaLaLa wasn't a rock song, it was about the heart of a rock artist, and Chk Chk Boom samples from the heart of latina in every bit of it, but the song is uniquely this genre of music that exists in a space between cross-sectionalities. But yeah sure, they'll give you an all-out of what you expect anyway XD

The whole album reaks of their usual cocky overconfident characters they've been getting more and more comfortable in with each comeback. It makes me curious for where they'll take themselves next, knowing they'd never leave the soundscape production that brings them joy. I always think that I can't think of the musical space left for them to expand, and then they somehow manage it, and make something addictive and fun and interesting~

#red's thoughts #red's week in music #red's album dissections #red's album listen-thru #stray kids ate #chk chk boom #Spotify #Youtube

9 notes · View notes

beefromanoff · 1 year ago

Text

Going Under Ch. 26

summary: things reach their peak...in more ways than one.

characters: Bucky Barnes x OC

soundtrack: I Wanna Be Yours - Arctic Monkeys

warnings: fluff, pop star fantasy x love story, set in an AU where the Avengers reunite after Civil War, pre-infinity war, slight angst, hurt/comfort, lonely reader/OC.

author’s note: okay OKAY this is big, and the first of this kind that I've written...so please give me feedback! It took 26 chapters to get here so I hope it was done right! ugh so many emotions, I hope you enjoy!

PS - special love to @charmedbysarge for the love and support, you being invested makes me even more invested and want to get things up even faster! I appreciate you! <3

chapter list

_________________________________________

The training room buzzed with energy.

Two dozen agents practiced hand-to-hand combat, honing their skills just like every week.

Just like every other week, Gianna sat at the edge of the training room, back against the wall. Her notebook was spread open on her lap. Typically, musings and lyrics poured out of her pen faster than she could write them down. The past few days…quite the opposite. The pages in front of her were completely empty, save for the scrawled doodles in the margins. She sighed, looking up at the noisy room.

Weaving through the pairs of sparring partners, Bucky paused every so often to provide guidance. His movements were precise and powerful, even when he demonstrated things at half speed for the agents to learn. Watching him had become a familiar routine, one Gianna looked forward to each day. But again, lately, something felt different.

His voice echoing through the cavernous room, Bucky called the agents to gather around, ending the training the same way he always did - with a few sparring sessions of his own. Agent Allison, the one who infamously had the hots for him, practically leapt to the front of the crowd, volunteering to go first.

In the weeks since she’d been at the compound, it had become common knowledge that Gianna and Bucky were very much together. There was a strict no-media protocol on the compound, with everyone who entered having to sign an airtight NDA. The precautions were for keeping much greater secrets, but it definitely made for a much more private relationship while they stayed here. Even if the agents saw Bucky shove Gianna up against this exact wall in the training room (not that she’d ever daydreamt about it), they couldn’t say a word, take a photo, nothing.

Most of the agents had healthy discretion, acknowledging the high-profile relationship existed without making it a thing. Gianna guessed that after months of watching the Black Widow and Captain America with their ongoing will-they-won’t-they thing, the agents had become desensitized to the outlandish things they saw at work. It wasn’t like they could go home, hit happy hour with their friends, and talk about how they’d spent the day sparring with the Winter Soldier.

Although if anyone were to try and boast about it…Gianna knew it would be Agent Allison. She narrowed her eyes, watching them.

Bucky’s every move was calculated, his strikes sharp and unforgiving. His face remained blank, clearly nowhere close to his full exertion. As much as Gianna hated to admit it, Agent Allison was skilled in her own right. She fought valiantly, no doubt showing off, but he made quick work of the round. Bucky swiftly disarmed her and, with a controlled motion, sent her to the mat. The thud echoed through the room as she landed on her back. Gianna bit the tip of her pen to disguise the grin that threatened to play across her face.

No sooner had she reprimanded herself for being so satisfied with the agent’s defeat did another thought cross her mind.

The way Bucky had sparred with her, and every other female agent, was the exact same as he sparred with the men. He held back, naturally, but he definitely didn’t take it easy on them. He let himself beat them, quickly. He hit them, hard. He didn’t treat them like they were breakable.

It bothered her, not at all because of his sheer strength, but because of the contrast between his approach with her and with the agents. The memory of his protective outburst at the lake just a few days ago resurfaced, muddled with the image of him throwing Agent Allison to the floor just a moment ago.

Goddammit, Gianna. Don’t make something out of nothing. He’s obviously not going to treat you like a combat trained field agent with years of experience. You’re manufacturing conflict.

She shook her head to clear it, but couldn't shake the knot that had formed in her stomach.

________________________________________________________

“Oh, Lordy, something smells good in here!” Sam announced his presence in the kitchen as Gianna stirred a pot on the stove.

“Once, just once, could you enter a room quietly?” Bucky scowled from his seat at the kitchen island, keeping her company while she worked.

“Yow, somebody’s hangry.”

“Make yourself useful,” Wanda thrust a stack of plates into Sam’s hands. “Set the table, don’t forget forks go on the left!”

“Yeah, yeah, not my fault y’all treat every dinner like the Queen’s joining us.” He rolled his eyes but obliged.

Even after the weeks she’d been at the compound, their dinner tradition hadn’t faded. Almost every night, Gianna and Wanda would cook for whichever variation of the team was there. They’d eat at the table, sit and talk for way too long, and then tackle the dishes before going their separate ways. Everyone teased the girls for their commitment to the new tradition, but it was clear that not one person wanted to give up the wholesome family atmosphere it brought.

“Oh, I left the pie in the fridge downstairs. I’ll be right back.” Wanda disappeared around the corner, leaving Gianna and Bucky alone in the kitchen.

“Have I told you lately how pretty you are?” He cocked his head to the side as he stood and rounded the island.

“Hmm…” Gianna pretended to think. “Would half an hour ago be considered ‘lately’?”

“Absolutely not.” He caught her wrist and pulled her close, wrapping his hands around her waist.

“Bucky,” She giggled between kisses, her face still flushing at his adoration.

“What?” He grinned and moved his hands up to her cheeks, kissing her slowly. She melted into him, only being brought back to reality by the oven timer dinging.

“As much as I’d like to keep this going, I didn’t spend two hours slaving away just to burn a whole lasagna.” She stood on her tiptoes and gave him one last kiss on his prickly jawline. “Not a full stop, just a pause.”

As Gianna rifled through the kitchen drawers, the oven timer kept dinging. “Ugh, if Wanda moves the oven mitts one more time…” She heard the oven open behind her and turned to see Bucky grab the casserole dish with his left hand, depositing it on the stove. He must have heard her gasp, turning to grin.

“It’s multipurpose.” He wiggled his vibranium fingers at her, unphased.

“That’s the true hero work,” She winked. “Now go sit down, play nice with Sam.”

He groaned but turned to head for the dining room. Waiting for the lasagna to settle, she looked around for what was missing. Glasses. Of course, the only clean ones left were on the very top shelf. She climbed onto the counter, putting a knee on the smooth marble and pulling herself up by the open cabinet door.

“Sam forgot napkins, hey, what are you doing?” Bucky frowned as he walked back in.

“All the other cups are in the dishwasher. Here,” She passed two glasses down to him.

“I could have gotten those for you.”

“No need,” She handed him the last two and scrambled down. “I’m resourceful.”

“You could have fallen, hit your head, stepped on the hot stove…”

“But I didn’t.”

“But,”

“Buck,” She interrupted him. “I’m fine.”

He paused for a moment, brows still knit together, but took the glasses into the other room without another word.

________________________________________________________

“I don’t think I can eat again for a week.” Bucky groaned as he laid back onto the bed.

“I’ve heard that before.” She grinned as she unfastened her earrings, setting them on the nightstand. “Yet you always seem to have a change of heart around breakfast.”

“I’m weak for pancakes.”

“You seem to have a few more weaknesses than that.” She purred, climbing onto his lap.

“That doesn’t sound like me.” He smirked and propped himself on his elbows. Gianna ignored him, running her fingers along his jawline.

“If I recall,” She slid her hands under the hem of his sweatshirt, hands cold against his warm body. “We have unfinished business.”

Bucky sat up, putting his hand on the small of Gianna’s back to keep her steady as he shifted beneath her. “That…” He kissed her, soft and slow. “We do.”

They hadn’t discussed what happened after the lake. When she’d quite literally laid herself bare and he left the room. She tried to tell herself he meant what he said, he felt gross from his mission and wanted to shower. She knew he wanted to ‘take things slow’ - but what did that mean? They’d been…whatever they were, officially, for weeks now. He slept in her bed almost every night. He kissed her in front of God and everybody. He’d shared his most intimate thoughts with her by revealing his journals.

But every time she tried to push things just a little further…he’d stop. He’d shift the tone to sweet, playing with her hair until she fell asleep or tracing circles on the small of her back. It was kind, gentle, honorable. At this point, however, she’d had her fill of kind, gentle, and honorable.

Gianna pulled back from his lips, raising her arms above her head. Their eyes locked as his hands slid up her back, the fabric of her shirt rising with it. Slowly, tenderly, he lifted it over her head and let her tousled hair tumble down her back. After letting his gaze drift over her for a moment, soaking up the delicate lace of her bra, she tugged his shirt over his head. Their warm chests pressed together as she wrapped her hand around his neck and kissed him again, tongue parting his lips immediately.

His grip tightened around her back as the kiss intensified, her hands tangled in his hair. Feeling especially impatient, Gianna slid off of his lap, her bare feet landing in the carpet between his knees. She pulled back from his lips, eyes hungry, and gently shoved his bare chest to push him back to the bed. He complied without protesting, watching her every move.

Her hands drifted to his hips, tugging on the drawstring of his sweatpants. Bucky’s eyes darkened. When the knot came undone in her delicate grip, she slipped her fingers inside the waistband and tugged them down, leaving them in a discarded heap on the floor.

Gianna rose, pausing only for a minute, to look over him sitting in his boxers. The muscles of his abdomen were taught even as he laid back on his elbows. His dark hair had the oh-so-familiar evidence of her hands having run through it. His jaw was clenched, blue eyes raking over her body.

God, he’s pretty.

Afraid of waiting any longer, she climbed back onto his lap, his hands meeting her hips in a desperate, greedy grip. Their lips crashed together as he rolled over on top of her. Gianna gasped into their kiss as his hips pressed against hers, his desire more than evident.

Suddenly, tragically, infuriatingly…he tore himself from her and stood, out of breath.

“I, we can’t.” He didn’t meet her eyes.

“Why?” Gianna cried out, unable to contain her frustration. Bucky turned his back to her, walking around the room. “Bucky, look at me!”

Slowly, he approached the bed, staying out of arms’ reach. He still didn’t look at her.

“Bucky…”

“I told you…”

“No, you told me you can’t. You told me you want to do this right, but you won’t tell me why or when the right time is! For God’s sake, I am throwing myself at you, and you’re walking away from me,” Her voice cracked at the end and he looked up with guilt-ridden eyes.

“I’m sorry,” He reached out to cup her cheek but she caught his hand.

“I don’t want you to be sorry. I want you to want me.”

“Gianna…” Bucky dropped to his knees in front of the bed. “This isn’t about me wanting you…that has never, ever been a problem.”

“Then what is the problem?”

His blue eyes looked back and forth between hers. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“God, Bucky, I’m not made of glass!” She climbed off of the bed, throwing her hands in the air. “Why do you treat me like I’m breakable! You freaked out when I was just having fun, doing the same thing as everyone else, you didn’t even like when I climbed on the counter to get a dish from the cabinet, and I know you made Peter come with us to New York because you were afraid I wouldn’t be safe enough with just Wanda.” Her eyes narrowed. “You have always protected me, always kept me safe, but it’s like that’s all you want to do!”

His eyes were torn, it took everything in her not to rush to comfort him with the heart-wrenching look he had on his face. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He repeated, his voice coming out as a growl.

“You don’t have to worry about hurting me -”

“I have to worry about hurting everyone.” He hissed, angry at the reality and angry it had led to this when all he wanted was to give in. “Especially you.”

“You don’t treat me like the others, the way you threw Agent Allison on the ground today,” Gianna paused, steeling herself, furious that she even had to mention that woman in her own bedroom. “Do you…think I’m weak? Do you think I can’t handle myself?”

“No, Gianna,” He crossed the room in two steps and cupped her face. “That’s not it at all. You are…easily one of the strongest women, strongest people I’ve ever met. You’ve been through more than anyone should have to endure and you’ve done most of it alone.” He searched her eyes. “It’s not that I think you can’t handle things…it’s that I don’t think you should have to. I…I want better for you. I want to give you what you deserve, keep everything bad away.”

Her face softened as his desperate words. “I don’t need everything bad to be kept away. I just need to keep the good close.” She tucked a dark strand behind his ear. “I just can’t seem to get close enough.”

Bucky’s thumbs brushed her cheeks, the conflict in his mind almost palpable. “I…I don’t want to hurt you.”

Her brows knit together, watching the anguish on his face. “How would you -”

“I don’t trust myself.” His voice was strained. “With how I feel about you, what I want…”

“But I trust you.” She tilted his chin to look back at her. “What about what I want?”

Gianna took a step back. The number of days she’d worn matching lacy undergarments, just hoping it would be the night he’d take them off of her…she’d lost count. Tonight, standing before him in the delicate, lacy blue set, the one that reminded her of his eyes when she picked it out in the store…she didn’t think she had enough patience to hope for another day.

“Bucky…” She breathed. “Ask me what I want.”

His eyes slowly, painfully, rose to meet hers. His breathing was labored. He was losing the battle with himself.

“What…do you want?”

“I want you to stop worrying.”

She stroked his cheek.

“I want you to know you make me feel safer than I ever have, in my life.”

She held his metal hand in hers, kissing his knuckles.

“I want you to appreciate this stupid lingerie I picked out specifically for you.”

She took two slow, deliberate steps backwards, letting his eyes trail over her.

“I want you to stop acting like I’m breakable and throw me on this bed like I’ve been dreaming about for months.”

“Gianna,” His voice was a low warning, all his restraint about to break.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Half a second.

That’s how long he hesitated before he snapped. In two strides, he crossed the room, never breaking eye contact with her. Before she could process, he’d picked her up, one hand supporting her and one hand gripping her cheek like his life depended on it. He kissed her harder, hungrier than he ever had before. Moving his hand away from her face for a split second, he reached around her back and ripped the clasp off of her bra. Without setting her down, he climbed onto the bed, still holding her to his body as he supported them both with his other arm.

He ran his tongue along her lower lip, moaning into her mouth. With a deep kiss, he deposited her onto the bed, rising up on his knees. Gianna let out a small whine as he pulled away but was quickly silenced by the look in his eyes. He reached down and took the delicate lace of her bra between his fingers, lifting it off of her body with ease, thanks to the mangled clasp somewhere across the room. He set it to the side and ran his hands across her collarbone, tracing the outline of her breasts, before trailing his hands down to her hips. A trail of fire lit Gianna’s skin everywhere he touched her.

Bucky traced the lace design, committing the image to memory. In one swift movement, completely contradictory to the gentle way he touched her, he grabbed them and yanked. The lace ripped with ease and he tossed the ruined material to the side.

“Fuck.”

Gianna sucked in a breath, the sight of him looking at her so lustfully making it suddenly hard to breathe, to think at all. “Please,” She pleaded.

He didn’t make her wait. In a second, his boxers were ripped and discarded right next to her panties. He was on her, arms caging her in on the mattress. He surrounded her. All she could see were piercing blue eyes, inky black hair hanging down over her, silver vibranium glinting in the moonlight. He filled her senses. He burrowed into the crook of her neck, kissing her collarbone, nipping at the delicate skin below her ear. She moaned, fingers running up his back.

His hand cupped her jaw, giving her a long, wet kiss before pulling back. His thumb ran across her lower lip, not able to fully let go but needing to put his mouth on the rest of her. He kissed, nibbled, bit what felt like every inch of her neck, chest, stomach. Gianna squirmed, urging him back up, but he caught her hips in an unyielding grip and held her still as he continued.

Bucky slid off the edge of the bed, again kneeling on the floor beside it. Still holding her hips, he yanked her to the edge of the bed, parting her legs around his face. His eyes met hers as he sank out of her view, draping her legs lazily over his shoulders. The gleam in his eye when he tasted her was almost predatory. Though she couldn’t see his face, Gianna knew, could feel that he was smirking. She threw her head back as a moan escaped her, bucking her hips against his face. Again, he gripped her waist and pinned her down, ensuring she wouldn’t move before his left hand disappeared. A cold, vibranium finger slid inside of her, moving at a tantalizing pace.

She couldn’t tell if it was ten seconds or ten minutes that he stayed between her legs, time passed differently with that kind of ecstasy. Before she knew it, everything that had been building up since she first saw him, saw those blue eyes and the muscles through the back of his t-shirts…all of it coiled inside of her until she couldn’t take it anymore. Her secret, lust-filled daydreams mixed with all the memories of his face swirled through her mind as she cried out, her legs wrapped around his shoulders. The grip he had on her waist with his right hand was sure to leave a mark, but it was nowhere near her mind at that moment. Her eyes flew open, arching her back, and the last thing she saw as she came undone was that tousled black hair between her legs.

Gianna fell apart in his hands, quivering as the waves of pleasure slowly subsided. Far from satiated, Bucky slowly pulled back, kissing the insides of her thighs as he did. The way they trembled in his hands made him even more feral, made him need her even more.

He slid his hand under her back and moved her to the middle of the bed, climbing on top of her. Her eyes were dazed, looking up at him like he was the sun, the moon, and all the stars. Using his legs, Bucky nudged hers open and settled between them, ready to finish what they started. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, tasting the thinnest sheen of sweat across her brow.

“Are you sure?”

She looked up at him with those big green eyes. Wordlessly, her hands snaked down to grab his hips, pulling him towards her. He moved slowly, watching her face for any kind of discomfort as he pushed into her for the first time. With a soft whimper, her eyes rolled beneath her lids, head falling back to the mattress. Bucky bit his lip, commanding himself to take it slow. More impatient than him, Gianna’s legs wrapped around his waist and locked, pulling him deep inside of her. Their moans mixed together as he paused, fully entwined with her.

He could smell her, feel her, taste her…she was everywhere. She was everything.

After a moment of letting her adjust, Bucky kissed Gianna, so gently she had to open her eyes and make sure it was real. There was a moment of overwhelming, intoxicating warmth that flooded her as his eyes opened and met hers. They paused, pressing their foreheads together and breathing the same breath.

“Move,” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but a command nonetheless.

So he did.

Pulling back and thrusting into her, he picked up in pace and force until the room was a hurricane of sweat, moans, and the sound of skin on skin. Gianna heard herself cry out his name, but it felt otherworldly. Nothing was real to her except the feeling of him, of James Buchanan Barnes, inside of her.

When he fell apart, it was the most delicious sight she’d ever seen. His eyes rolled, he threw his head back, his mouth opened to let out a low moan as every muscle in his beautiful body tensed.

They laid there for another undefined amount of time, limbs tangled, sweat mingled, hearts pounding. Bucky’s arms cradled her head as he laid his on her chest, soothed by the rise and fall of her breathing.

“Bucky?”

He lifted his head, stroking her hair off of her cheek.

“I want this, all of this. Always.”

His lopsided smile spread across his face. “That good, huh?”

“Bucky,” She nudged him. “I’m serious.”

“Gianna…” He propped himself up and traced her hairline, her ear, her jaw. “I couldn’t even resist you when all I had was the idea of you. Now that I know you, now that…I can never go back to a life without you.”

She bit her lip to keep the goofy, giddy smile from breaking through. Having heard what she wanted, she pulled herself out from under him and padded over to the oversized tub in the corner.

“For the record,” Gianna grinned as she turned on the hot water. “It most definitely was that good, and you better actually join me this time.”

Bucky rolled off the bed, grinning right back. “Don’t have to ask me twice.”

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #avengers #bucky barnes x oc #bucky fanfic #winter soldier #bucky fluff #sebastian stan #winter soldier fluff #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x you #winter soldier smut

28 notes · View notes

snowbunnytrick · 1 year ago

Note

(I think I nearly blacked out writing this I was possessed by the divine Peterick spirit. I'm too scared to put this on my own blog but I need the world to hear and I think you'd like this ram me based on your fic ref list)

Not to like, insanely dead dove-ify peterick but something that swims around in my head SO MUCH is how it really does feel like Pete took Patrick on a whirlwind when he was just a kid. Some slightly creepy, hopelessly suppressed bi-curious in the early 2000s, touch starved, boystarved, Patrick-starved 20/21 year old falling in love at first sight with a precious, pink, stupidly awkward dork 16 year old. So much that he still remembers what Patrick was wearing. Doesn't care for his audio recordings that Joe showed him until he SEES him, yknow? There's an inherent freakness there.

Promising his mom you'll take good care of him and sleeping next to and on top of him, crowded and trapped in the back of a shitty van you can barely cover the gas costs of. Spinning around and shoving against him on stage and screaming in his mic and getting to take him home with you every day. Your golden ticket, a sweaty teenager getting into YOUR van.

Ugh and I could go on forever about it. How by ioh there's this inkling of Patrick growing up. Still so young but getting his senses. Seeing how real relationships work. He's in his 20s now. 22/23 and Pete 26/27 and seeing his grip loosening. He knows he's losing him. He's even clingier on stage, writing love songs about teenage promises and calling him before calling even his mom after overdosing. (Though I'm not sure if that one is urban legend.)

I think part of how bad the band dynamic was after Folie was that venom Patrick had for Pete. It's 25/26 and 29/30. Patrick sees Pete being sold as this tabloid figurehead and he's stolen his late teens and early 20s. Spent his last high school summer with this dickhead who can't keep his life together. Who fights with him on everything and he needs out NOW but Pete's holding on so tight he's drawing blood and then licking the wounds. He needs him.

Soul Punk being the flop it was (completely ahead of it's time, besides the point) and feeling like you've failed. Pete made you peak and dragged you down with him. You can't start over. So you give in. He asks to hang out again and you get those words again. The same ones that made your brain light up with their rhythm at 16. The drummer in you. And you go back to him. And things are scary and careful and you're walking on eggshells but it's nice. It comfortable. You sink back in and do 2 records back to back. He's learned. He knows what he's done to you but he doesn't have to apologize. His lyrics are his apology.

Mania being so polarizing, too. Trying new things and not letting it get to you this time. You've conquered each other, you don't need the world. You can write music for each other and yourself and no one else. And stardust is just. So so so full circle. It's okay. Everything makes sense again. You can dance on stage and Pete can recite his words to people and not just a recording booth. It's 39 and 44 and you wouldn't trade it for the world.

YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH OH MY GOD ……. what a wonderful little essay you’re SO fucking right!!!! something that has always drawn me back to them after drifting back and forth to them in bursts of obsession is just. like. every single little facet of their relationship that has developed over the years and how it all well and truly stemmed from this very strange, unnatural, curious, twisted, enchanting fascination that this local too-sick celebrity cursed/blessed with boundless charm and a too-big heart and so much ink and mean white teeth and dirty dirty hands had with this fucking geeky teenage boy with patchy sideburns and bitten-through red lips and an off-kilter voice that he was still trying to grow into and limp skinny wrists and a pudgy stomach. he took that teenage boy to college parties, he bought him gifts, he took him to the movies, he made sure to saturate every square inch of his life with this new world that this kid was being thrust into—partially by force. waiting with baited breath until summer break starts and taking him across the country with him to breathe into his neck and touch him and tug on him and push him around until he snaps and it feels so fucking good when he does. patrick’s entire adolescence and the foundation of the rest of his life was permanently altered through pete and everything that started in the summer of 2001 still remains to this day in little touches and glances and inside jokes and intimacy and tenderness and adoration that most people would kill to feel. it’s so endlessly, hopelessly romantic and there are so many wounds that have been pulled open along the way and then either clumsily or carefully sewn back up…..… all these moments of intense codependency and tragedy and violence and anguish and possession and desperation. they feel so deeply for each other that it’s manifested so many times in the worst that humanity has to offer. i’ll never get away from them because they will never get away from each other because they physically can’t. it destroys them every single time it happens. and that makes me happy

#im foaming at the fucking mouth #trueblueask

24 notes · View notes

anietydriven · 4 months ago

Text

⚠️ BLOOD / GORE WARNING⚠️ (Made my own little spin on it)

»»————-　[ Chapter 7: You are my Black Sorrow ]　————-««

Till stayed in the spot for a few hours before Ivan shifted his body away as he slowly woke up.

"Rise and shine."

"Hm..?" Ivan grumbled as he rubbed his eyes. He turned his head to see Till.

He froze for a split second before rising to his feet and hid under a blanket. Till tilted his head in confusion, What's up with Ivan? Ivan was happy, excited even. He just didn't think they'd sleep together! Although they didn't do anything yet. A part of him was putting himself down thinking.

'Give up on it. He'll never love you. He loves Mizi.'

Till calmed down and came to his senses as he pulled the blanket off of himself. Ivan gave his iconic smile with his cute little fang peaking out.

"Evening.. Sorry about sleeping on you."

"No need to apologize. We both passed out. Urak was being kind enough to not wake either of us up." Till smiled faintly.

Till grabbed his book and turned his attention onto Ivan.

"Your round is tomorrow. Should you rehearse it?" Till asked softly.

"Eh, I'll do it in the morning. My round isn't until night time."

"Then what will you be doing..?" Till wondered.

"Hm.."

Ivan tilted his own head, he didn't know what he'd be doing. But he just knew for now being around Till isn't good for himself. He shrugged as if he's acting like an airhead.

"Dunno. But I'll be back around bedtime."

The boys shares a dorm, which is why he said that. Ivan turned his back towards Till and waved bye. He left the room, he had to distract himself otherwise he might just fuck things up. Ivan did things to distract himself. Such as working out. They might be stuck in space but he still wants to stay fit. He got on a pull up bar and pulled his body up over the bar.

Ivan didn't notice Mizi staring at him. Mizi watched him before speaking.

"How was your date?"

"Date? It wasn't one.. He kept on talking about how he wished you were there with him." Ivan stated bluntly.

"Ugh he's so dense.. How did he fuck this up for himself?" Mizi mumbled.

Ivan glanced over towards Mizi as he pulled his head over the bar, with his calves crossed in the air, near the back of his thighs. Mizi snickered as she said.

"You're lucky you're in here alone. Otherwise your fangirls would be drooling everywhere." Mizi teased.

"Oh? Why's that?" Ivan asked oblivious.

Mizi stared at Ivan with an unamused expression, she gazed at his body. He wasn't wearing a shirt, but he was wearing gym shorts. Mizi was unsure if Ivan was serious about not knowing.

"Y'know how girls are. Seeing men exercise and get all.. sweaty." She gestured to his body.

Ivan did one more rep of chin-ups. Which was he had used his arms to pull his whole body up, to have his chin above the bar. Then he had lowered his body to the starting position He had let go of the bar, allowing him to fall to his feet. Ivan wiped the sweat off of his face. However there was sweat rolling down Ivan's chest. Mizi just stared at him disrespectfully. She began to see why girls are fawning over him.

However she is still loyal to her girlfriend, besides she's a lesbian. She shrugged it off before she sat on a bench. She tossed a water-bottle towards Ivan.

"Thanks." Ivan mumbled.

He had gulped the water down before he went to his dorm room and fell asleep. Ivan had a bad sleep pattern. Even so he still woke up full of energy. This man had stayed away from Till, rehearsing his song. They had to write their own song. Ivan had made one copy for his competitor.

Ivan might only care about Till but he's a relatively nice person unless if they provoke him. So there's no point in not giving her a copy of the lyrics.

Till felt a bit uneasy. It's not that he's worried, it's just whenever Ivan doesn't talk or go bother them Ivan is usually up to no good. So he walked down the halls, stopped at a door and stared inside of the room. What he saw was indeed Ivan. However what he saw was Ivan sitting on the ground, head against the wall. He couldn't see Ivan's face but he knew that body language anywhere. Ivan was thinking of his past. After all, that's what they all do.

Till didn't want to distract him or interfere, so he continued to walk down the corridors towards Mizi's room.

'At least he's not plotting anything.' Till thought to himself.

Ivan was having memories of his past. He remembered how he didn't care about whether he died or not. Because he remembered he was being dangled over the roof of the building by a Gorilla-Cyclops alien. Ivan also remembered how he first got interested in Till.

That was the first time he felt anything besides emptiness. Ivan had came back to reality, he disliked the reality. Ivan smirked to himself as he glanced towards the door to see no one was there. He shook his head, returning back to the song.

"I hate this world. At least I have Till." Ivan huffed.

A half the day was the time Ivan took to rehearse. He went into the waiting room once the sun had vanished in the sky above. He was waiting for his round to start which was 5 minutes away. Ivan was wearing an a black top and grey pants with belts and straps on his pant legs.

Till snuck up behind Ivan which slightly startled Ivan.

"W-Why are you here..?"

"Well.." Till hesitated but he continued.

"You better win this. I see you as a friend, but seriously. I care about you.. If you win this I'll ask Urak— Try to ask Urak if we could go out into town. Since you seemed happy yesterday.."

Till wasn't the best at encouraging people. I am stared at him before tilting his head.

"Oh, you don't have to force yourself."

"I-I'm not! I'm genuinely worried about you die neither Mizi and I will be sad. You always get yourself in danger." Till stared at Ivan, unamused.

Ivan glanced away because he was guilty in that sense. He's always been one to experience near death. It's as if Ivan was a death chaser.

"You have no need to worry. At least be genuine with your words before speaking. However, I'm confident I'll win this round." Ivan smiled.

Although he's always negative about the world around him. He's still a confident player in this competition. He just bit his lip before saying.

"I hope you know. If I win this, We'll have to compete against each other. Are.. you sure you want this?"

"I.. I know that." He honestly had forgotten about that much.

It's just now isn't the time to worry about that. Especially since they should focus on the round they are at right now. Till glanced at the clock before he left the room. Leaving Ivan alone. Ivan bit his lip, drawing blood due to his fang. He turned to the contraption and stood atop of it.

He could hear the announcer talking.

"Now is the time you've all been waiting for! Here comes our competitors, Ivan and Sally!"

Ivan and Sally has been raised up onto the stage due to the elevation contraption. Ivan stared out into the crowd along with the cameras. He confidently strode forward towards the microphone. Just as drums played in the background, Ivan opened his mouth.

"The soggy darkness crouched down.

Even if we shake our heads, It's always been the same place.

I can't reach you, so I imagine Alone.

You who shines I stand next to you.

So black, black as it can be.

The dark sea gets deeper as you approach.

Like a black, black sorrow!

A story of such woe.

At the end of this story, there is only a cold spot.

Stained with blood and empty air."

Ivan paused a minute while the drums and the guitar continued. Ivan bit his lip while thinking about Till. He hoped Till was watching this.

"Where your eyes reach,

Where your fingertips brush.

Waiting for you endlessly.

The red light inside the black darkness,

Turning the hourglass.

Spending a long time with you..

So black, black as it can be!

A dark sea gets deeper as you approach.

Like a black, black sorrow.

A story of such woe

At the end of the story,

There is only a cold spot stained with blood."

Ivan raised his hand towards the camera.

"Such black, black sorrow!

To me you are,

To me you are my

Black sorrow!

You are my

Black sorrow!"

Till and Mizi were watching this all happen together. Mizi knew this song must be about Ivan his mental state around Till. Till on the other hand didn't know it was about his mental state, let alone himself. Till knew it was about Ivan, but that's about it.

Both Till and Mizi held their breaths, that they didn't know was being held. They were staring at the screen. How did Ivan get such a high rating?! Ivan's points?

Mizi snickered. "I knew he wouldn't die. But uh.. Ivan looks so dead inside."

"Huh..?" Till hasn't noticed it, but looking back at the screen. He did look dead inside.

Ivan turned his head to look up at the scoreboard. He didn't think he'd get that high, but he knew he'd win. Ivan's eyes turned to look at Sally.

Just as he looked at Sally, his eyes very slightly widened when he watched Sally's head get a hole in it. It was due to the gun. The gun had shot through Sally's eye.

Ivan stared in awe before he covered his mouth. Was he disgusted? No. He's hiding the twisted smile he had. So that's the outcome that happens when someone loses..

'Oh this is getting good.' Ivan thought to himself while he feigned disgust.

But his eyes were fixated on the gaping hole in that girl's head. He could see her twitching brain. Meanwhile, with Mizi she gagged while Till stared at the screen.

Ivan had his mouth covered to calm down. He had to calm down to see his puppy, Till. By the time Ivan arrived by Till's side, Ivan had looked calm. He saw Mizi's disgust. A part of him was having a kick out of it but he had that deep inside of him. Ivan feigned disbelief.

"I didn't know people died when they would go that far.." Ivan sighed.

"I told you not to fail." Till sighed before asking.

"When do you wanna go out again?"

"You mean like a date?" Ivan asked almost bluntly.

Till nearly choked on his saliva. "The fuck?!"

"...." A pause from Till.

It won't hurt to amuse Ivan. Then again he did say that he'd ask Urak to go out again if Ivan won.

"Fine, After round 4 some time I'll only go on One date. I heard going on a bro's date isn't.. y'know romantic" Till gave in.

Till wasn't taught anything by humans, he learned all of this in books. Till was doing the 'It's not gay if it's a bro-date'. Till knew asking Urak for this will bs hard. Not for Ivan but for himself. Ivan smiled happily and hugged Till. Which till squirmed in his grasp.

Mizi didn't know what was going on in Ivan's head but he was happy seeing the both of them having fun. She sighed softly.

"Till sweetie.." Mizi got close to Till's face. "There's no such thing as a bro's date.."

Ivan glared daggers at Mizi as if to tell her, 'Back off.' without saying it.

Mizi backed up from Till. "You two should kiss." with a cat like grin.

"Hell no!" Till hissed while blushing heavily.

Ivan clicked his tongue. "No take-backsies."

Ivan wasn't going to pass up on going on a date with Till. Till on the other hand was dreading this already. But on the plus side he didn't give a specific date.. Maybe, just maybe Ivan will forget.

To be continued.

»»————-　　————-««

#fanfic #yaoi bl #alien stage #alnst till #alnst ivan #psychological horror #manipulative

2 notes · View notes

scary-flag · 1 year ago

Note

Ahhhh yay you’re watching JCS!! As an avid JCS fan I went absolutely feral when Con mentioned the Judas/Jesus dynamic as a basis for Izzy & Ed. My most favorite parallel is during “Damned For All Time/Blood Money”:

Judas’ lyrics of “I came because I had to I’m the one who saw/Jesus can’t control it like he did before/Jesus wouldn’t mind that I was here with you/I really didn’t come here of my own accord/just don’t say I’m damned for all time” are so supremely Izzy to me. Like I had to do this, Ed knows I had to do this, it’s not betrayal it’s for his own good.

And then it’s just as heartbreaking when Judas sings his final song. When he goes back to the earlier melody that Mary Magdalene sings: “I don’t know how to love him/I don’t know why he moves me/he’s just a man he is not a king/ does he love me too? Does he care for me?” Ugh I genuinely love this musical lol and I love that Con gave it a shoutout! He’s a musical theatre bb too and he probably came up around when this was at its peak. Anyway glad to hear it’s giving you lovely Ed & Izzy vibes!!

Yes, I was thinking the same about the Damned For All Time/Blood Money. But ever since I watched OFMD for the first time I had felt the vibe with Ed/Izzy, you know, with the devotion, selling Ed out to the English thinking it was for his own good, but ultimately regretting it, and so on. There is something deeply *religious* about Izzy's actions and attitude and no one's gonna change my mind.

Having watched the entirety of JCS finally I definitely get what Con meant on that panel, about the Ed/Izzy and Jesus/Judas.

Yeah, Con has a long history with musicals after all. I still hope one day a full recording of Blood Brothers with him will resurface on the Internet.

3 notes · View notes

allthemusic · 6 days ago

Text

Week ending: 15th October

What's this, some Panic! at the Disco? (Spoilers: It's not, but the title did give me pause for a moment, and then made me want a Frank Sinatra version of the Panic! at the Disco song. Somebody who's a good impersonator get on that!)

High Hopes - Frank Sinatra (peaked at Number 6)

Hmmm. This song seems to start with a children's choir, which is very rarely a good thing, in my book. There's something a bit musical theatre about the orchestration and arrangement of it all, which maybe rescues it, though - a children's chorus as part of a musical is maybe the least objectionable form of children singing, as far as I'm concerned. Still, it's not a beginning that fills me with hope, especially with the "after school special" nature of the opening lyrics, as the kids suggest that next time you're found / With your chin on the ground / There's a lot to be learned / So look around. Ugh. Glurgey stuff.

Thankfully, we get Frank pretty soon after that to lend some gravitas to the whole thing. Not much gravitas, mind you - it's a very silly kids song, fundamentally, with a verse about an ant trying to move a rubber tree plan, and then a verse about a ram trying to breach a dam. Both the ant and the ram succeed through sheer bloody-mindedness, I guess - which is meant to teach us a lesson about perseverance, I think. Except both of those behavious are pretty weird ones to pick as your inspirational examples - do we really want our kids looking up to rams trying to destroy dams? It's not a behaviour I'd want to be encouraging, but there you have it. They're also just really weird examples - are ants known for bringing down trees? And do rams frequently butt a hole through solid concrete? If so, this should definitely be more common knowledge. But if not, it does make the song feel kind of dishonest - you can't sell kids on the power of perseverance and then use fake, impossible examples!

I'm also annoyed (if you can't tell) by the ending, which suddenly veers off rather unnecessarily from the "animal causing destruction" patter to compare your problems to toy balloons, a metaphor that just feels deeply unintuitive to me. Plus, the songwriter then makes the distinctly upsetting choice to make the sound of the balloon being burst into a resounding kerplop. Which is both clearly not the sound a balloon bursting makes, and also quite an unpleasant word, on some level I don't much care to analyse. Makes me think of somebody pooping, and that's all I'll say about it. Nasty.

I have definitely soured on this song, the more I've listened. Even lines in the middle that I didn't mind the first time have started to annoy me. Take when the kids sing about how when troubles call / And your back's to the wall / There's a lot to be learned / That wall could fall. That's not a good line! When I'm in a tough spot, the last thing I want is a wall that my back is against falling down. Best case scenario, I topple over backwards. Worst case scenario, there's now a brick wall that's fallen on top of me. I can see what they're trying to do, metaphorically, but it just doesn't work - it's a little detail, but it really does irritate me.

The whole song is annoying. It was from a Frank Capra film, A Hole in the Head, which was about a man called Tony Manetta, who moves to Miami and is financially irresponsible. He also is a widowed father, except he gets into such dire financial straits that his more responsible brother Mario has to come and sort him out, and tries to take his kid off him. There's shenanigans where Tony pretends to be rich to con people into giving him money to build a second Disneyland - the original having been built in 1955, so this was a pretty topical thing! - except it falls through and the ending basically involves him telling his son that he's unwanted (?) and sending him away to live with the brother in New York. Tony then slopes off to the beach, except his son comes back to him, and the brother decides they all just need a holiday, and that that will fix everything. I kid you not, by the look of things, that's the entire ending to the whole thing. Frank Capra's a director of some renown, so I'll give him the benefit of the doubt and suggest that it might make more sense / be more entertaining in context?

Either way, this song seems to be the element of the film that made the most impact, to the point where John F Kennedy used the song a year later as the main theme song for his 1960 presidential campaign, which he won, with a narrow margin. And you can kind of see the appeal - there's a scrappy, determined optimism to it that's kind of irresistible, politically, and that absolutely lines up with what JFK was trying to present himself as, as this new, fresh, young candidate, a clean start for America after the messes of the 1950s. In that respect, it's a good choice, albeit one that I just know would have annoyed me almost immediately.

I didn't expect to be mentioning JFK so soon in this blog. I know we're technically almost in the 1960s, but it still snuck up on me. Shame it's with this stinker of a song, but hey, there you go. Frank's definitely made better stuff, but I guess this served a purpose, and people clearly did like (and buy) it, so I can't be too mad. (Panic! at the Disco still did it better, though).

Favourite song of the irritating but good-enough-for-JFK bunch: High Hopes

#uk charts #1959 #frank sinatra

0 notes

thatbanditqueen · 1 year ago

Text

When the year is all over, and Spotify shames me with the evidence that I have listened to Elvis for one hundred billion hours, I imagine that there are going to be a bunch from the 1950s. I Was the One has already come up for me on a few of your other challenges, probably in my top ten of all Elvis songs. There are so many in heavy rotation for me.That's Alright Mama, Blue Moon, Earth Angel, Lawdy Miss Clawdy, Good Rockin Tonight, So Glad You're Mine, One Night With You. All the soundtracks. Too many to list. I am being very disobedient and going way above the three song limit. Sorry, @be-my-ally listed six, and, ahem, a few others did not follow directions, so I took my cues from them.

Shake, Rattle & Roll Top form proto punk where Elvis is almost growling/yelling, and the lyrics are so dirty. It means a lot to me because it was his first TV song, and he just bursts through the screen into the consciousness of the country. BAM.

Don't Be Cruel There are a few versions of this, and I love them all. All 500 from the Million Dollar Quartet. The polished upbeat studio version, with clapping pitter patter of his hands (or someone's) keeping time. The way he says "hmmmmmmm" ? I also get sentimental about this one, it is one I remember listening to and dancing around to as a kid, and then it was Gladys' favorite song.

Is it So Strange On of my favorite Elvis ballads. Maybe my top one. His voice is so deep at the beginning, and then it becomes more earnest and high, and you just hear his range and emotionality. It is so heartbreaking, and I feel it, it is about a lover trying to win back his love and not having eyes for any other girl. June asked him to record this song, and then the album came out after she broke it off. Ugh, the angsty angst. I might just wallow in it for a while.

I Need Your Love Tonight OK, I think his voice is peak dork cute on this, the way he hiccups "wowee" and "pow pow" and then croons "I got the hi-fi high and the light down low," oh god. Be still my quivering quim. And I think the guitar solo is fun too.

Now and Then (There's a Fool Such as I) Can I just group this with Need Your Love? it was the B side on the single. There was a period of about three months when I had to play this song first thing in the morning everyday and it living in my head. That opening guitar riff might be the reason. But then it is the way he croons/slurs the lyrics in a low voice. Then there is the way he grows Then - a when he sings "Now and Then." Ugh. Listen to Hank Snow's version and then listen to this one.

I Asked the Lord Earnest, slow Elvis singing gospel as he plays the piano with a soft deep voice. It is so operatic and sentimental as it crescendos, yet seems so intimate because it's a home recording. I think of him in Germany, a far off look in his eyes, feeling all alone and unsure about his future, singing this, and I can feel the melancholy and I am right there in the same emotional state and I feel connected to him intricately. The melody hits a melodramatic sweet spot for me.

Santa Claus is Back in Town Pretty sure I am one of two Jews in this subsection of the fandom, so I am surprised that I am the first to list this. Or maybe not. I think most American Jewish girls are at least Christmas curious if not full out Santa sluts. Our whole culture becomes Christmas for two months, can you blame us? Plus I grew up celebrating it with friends and family who were not married to Jews. And Elvis' Christmas music is just fucking balls. Anyway, oh man, I love this song. The bluesy melody, the naughty lyrics, his voice, from a growly snark to sexy croon. Brrr. My favorite xmas song.

Elvis Top Three - 1950s Songs

Hello my sweet Elvis friends! The question this week is…what are your top 3 Elvis songs from the 50s? (This to me would include anything recorded in the 50s, even if it wasn’t released until later). This one was SO much harder than I thought it would be. As I looked through The Complete 50s Masters to help me decide on my top three, I was just astounded at the sheer number of great songs he recorded in such a short time span. This man was truly legendary (as if you all didn’t know).

As always, this list could change tomorrow (or in an hour), but here are my top three in this moment:

One Night – Elvis gives such a soulful, sexy rendition of this song; I can’t even tell you how much I love his vocals on this. I also love the story behind the song. The record label felt the original lyrics were too suggestive, but Elvis loved the song so much he played around with it and came up with new lyrics that allowed him to release it as a single. When he performed it at the Comeback Special, you can see how he sort of surprised himself by slipping back into the original lyrics. This is one of those songs you could tell he really enjoyed performing. His passion when he sings this just makes me feel some kind of way.

Heartbreak Hotel – This one is just classic. It was definitely his breakthrough song for a reason. The haunting, hiccup-y vocal, the bluesy piano riff, the lyrics…this to me was just so different from other rock n’ roll stuff. I think it really set him apart. And I love his really bluesy live versions of this later on.

Don’t – I’ve just been kind of obsessed with this one lately. I think the lyrics are sweet (“This you can believe, I will never leave you” – swoon), and this man could just sing a ballad like no one else. His voice makes me feel safe. It is really just perfection.

Runner-ups: It was just painful how many I could not include. Some others up for consideration were Just Because, That’s All Right, Shake Rattle and Roll, Any Way You Want Me, Tomorrow Night, Trying To Get To You, Anyplace is Paradise, Milkcow Blues Boogie…I could go on forever! ❤️

Please share your favorite Elvis songs from the 50s! Anyone join in the fun! 😘

@whositmcwhatsit @be-my-ally @thatbanditqueen @ellie-24 @vintagepresley @lookingforrainbows @prompted-wordsmith @flwrs4aust @iloveelvis @argeriant18 @loving-elvis @alienelvisobsession @ab4eva @manebioniclegali @deke-rivers-1957 @rjmartin11 @elvisalltheway101 @satninroses @doll-elvis @devilsflowerr @missmaywemeetagain @troubleinapinksuit @cryingabtab @generoustreemystic @samfangirls @animalloverthingsss @velvetelvis @everythingelvispresley @arrolyn1114 @claire-elvisgirl @kendralavon7 @vintage-leisure @blighted-star @queenncreole @basicpresleygirl @lllsaslll @elvissbabygirl @powerofelvis @ashtag6887 @sissylittlefeather @dkayfixates @peskybedtime @lettersfromvenus @burnthheparaphilia @thetaoofzoe

#you said top seven right #elvis top three #elvis music #Elvis 1950s songs #love you shanny #elvis fandom is the best fandom

89 notes · View notes

jeonqkooks · 2 years ago

Note

OKAY! Hear me out. Everyone’s talking about songs that fit OC, right? Well, I have a song I think fitsJUNGKOOK.

I know we hate him rn, but I see jk in this song

Ghost of You - 5 Seconds of Summer

(ALSO HAAHA MOM SPEECHLESS😭 I RLY COULDNT TYPE. I’m still fucking speechless & rereading again & again. You’ll hear fro me soon!!)

- ☀︎☀︎☀︎

I LOVE 5SOS !!!!!!!! ugh, Ghost of You is fantastic, it encapsulates so nicely his sad boy era / nights spent alone reflecting on the past and the present and the future and just being emo in general while not opening up to literally anybody 🫠

we’re still a long way from this but in a future chapter where hope starts to peak through behind the dark clouds, i plan to use lyrics from 5SOS’ Lover of Mine as the bit that i often put before the chapter starts 😈

#re: our beloved summer #☀︎ anon #answered #q

1 note · View note

my-messy-melody · 2 years ago

Text

Here were the top ten songs I enjoyed that I discovered this year! In no order

• Dorothy- Her’s. This song makes me want to dance and swim in a creek, but it also makes me want to sit in my car at night and cry. Knowing someone so intimately that you want to run away with them, but feeling so lonely in that relationship at the same time.

• c. et al.- Snail Mail. I listened to this song.. God, maybe every other day during winter. There was something so miserable and quiet about that time. The repetition of life. Of snow. Of waking up and hating who I was, knowing there were months until the sun would come back. Waking up without why or how. Most days, just wanting to lie down.

• Harvey- Alex G. Honestly, I love so much Alex G music that I couldnt possibly list all of them. I especially liked the House of Sugar album and Rocket. They inspired me so much with my book. Harvey makes me want to dance, and I love the line “run my hands through his short black hair, I love you Harvey I don’t care” Whenever I’d hear a new Alex G song, I’d get depressed for like a week before I recovered. There are so many layers to his songs and every time I hear them, I find something new that either breaks my heart or makes me cry with joy.

• the entire Folklore album by T Swift. I especially liked the songs Exile and Cardigan. The album also inspired me a lot when writing. Her lyricism really steps up with this album. So sad, but so beautiful. This album gives me winter vibes, but for me, since I listened to it in summer, it felt like looking out the window and realizing the blue May flowers have started to die, but the creek water is still icy. Morning drives through the canyon.

• Futile Devices- Sufjan Stevens (and a lot of others by him). Sufjan Stevens was something I listened to mostly at the beginning of the summer, and it was perfect for that time in my life. I remember listening to his music while crocheting on the mountainside, and the entire field was covered in sunflowers. It was whimsical but melancholic.

• Let Down- Radiohead. It feels so longing and futile, like a bug with its wings torn off and desperate to fly again. I found this song when I was on a walk near the middle of the summer, at the peak of the heat and storms. I’ve loved it ever since, and it’s my favorite Radiohead song.

• Jolene- Dolly Parton. This song was a banger. Like a bunch of the other songs, I listened to it in the summer. It kind of made me feel like I was back in Alabama again, and it felt good to listen to some classic country. It made me feel like a main character. The song sounds almost like an incantation, or a main character training song, as weird as the comparison is. Dolly Parton is a queen.

• Picture Me Better- Weyes Blood. I found this song during the summer, but I really started listening to it once sophomore fall semester started. It reminds me of bright, hot September days and walking to class. I love the lyrics “waiting for the call from beyond, waiting for something with meaning to come through”. That’s kind of what I was doing at that point. Waiting for something more. More experiences, more friends, more love, more adventure

• Bust- Lomelda. I’ve like lomelda since my senior year of highschool, but I only recently discovered how many good songs she has. This song is incredible. It has such a disorienting rhythm. “I thought of so many things to say to you— but what were they? What were they to you?” Ugh. So good. This song makes me feel like I’m running through a field of flowers— but running after someone who’s leaving me slowly. Like they’re moving at a walking pace, but no matter how fast I run and how much ground I cover, I can never catch them.

• Dreamcore- Pathetic. This song both samples and reminds me of Neon Genesis, which I love, so I obviously love that song too. It makes me feel like I’m in some depressing sci-fi world, where it’s raining and blue and grey and black. And like I’m screaming. It makes me vibe while I’m walking to and from campus in the winter.

#personal #crabcake #spotify

1 note · View note

whatsnewalycat · 2 years ago

Text

Psychomanteum / Chapter 4

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Chapter 4: The Past Is A Grotesque Animal

Chapter Summary: You and Dieter use the psychomanteum.

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Word Count: 7.6k+

Content / Warnings: alternating POV, death, drug addiction, grief, dead parent, psychomanteum, PTSD, flashbacks, cocaine use & dependence & comedown, cannabis use, homophobic hate crime mention, suicide mention, angst, YEAAAARRRRNING, fluffy things, dirty talk, nipple play, fingering, cuddling

Notes: Chapter title from "The Past Is A Grotesque Animal" by of Montreal. Which is honestly one of my favorite songs ever. The lyrics are fucking beautiful and weird UGH. 10/10 recommend listening lol. Hey so, about this chapter... the top half is pretty heavy but there's some cute stuff in there. I read through research papers on psychomanteums to get reports of people's experiences, and these are things that were actually reported to fucking happen. Which I think is neat.

[ Tag List ] [ AO3 ] [ Spotify Playlist ] [ Series Masterlist ]

Psychomanteum Recipe

Ingredients:

Mirror

Comfortable Chair

Lamp with 25-watt bulb

Room draped in black

Directions:

Mount mirror on one side of the room

Place chair about 3’ in front of and facing mirror

Place lamp directly behind chair

Surround area floor-to-ceiling in black

Eliminate all light except the lamp

“What now?” Dieter asks, wiping beads of sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, “Do we do some kind of a ritual or something?”

He’s standing in your bedroom, hands on his hips, panting from the exertion of dragging an armchair from the living room into the closet.

“Let’s see…” you hum to yourself, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth as you scroll down the webpage and nod along, “Ok. Yeah, ok, now you go in there and I murder you as my human sacrifice,” you keep your face neutral as you peak over the top of your laptop screen and watch his body relax into amusement.

“Counter productive,” he states in an accusatory fashion, pointing at you, then adds with a scoff, “and rude.”

He walks around the bed and sprawls out atop the terracotta comforter. The mattress shifts, jostling your body from side-to-side as he rolls onto his side, propped up on an elbow, cheek pressed to his palm.

You smirk and return your attention to the computer screen, scrolling down the page as you skim the article, “I don’t think we have to do anything else. Just go in there and, I don’t know, try to talk to them? See what we see? I think it’s kind of up to you what you do. Pretty subjective.”

He doesn’t say anything, but you feel his eyes on you. You turn your head and meet his gaze. Heat creeps up your neck, tinging your cheeks, “What?”

His mouth gapes open like he’s holding words hostage on the tip of his tongue, then he shakes his head, “Nothing. Who’s going first?”

“Do you want to?” your eyebrows press together, hope creasing your forehead.

“I, um…” he glances at the closet, then back to you, Adam’s apple bobbing before he says, “Ok, yeah. I’ll go first.”

“You sure?” you search his face, watching the way his jaw gnashes back and forth, the way he's staring at the closet door with dimly lit eyes.

Dieter nods, then pushes himself off the bed with a grunt. He shakes out his wrists and rolls his shoulders as he approaches the closet, then turns back to you, “So I just go and think about him and ask him questions?”

You close the laptop and slide it towards the foot of the bed, then sit up and cross your legs into a pretzel. Your guts are tangled in a similar knot. But you ignore it and confirm, “You got it, chief.”

“Alright,” he strides towards the closet door, looking back to salute you before crossing the threshold, “See you on the other side."

Dieter sinks into the armchair. Black sheets hang on all four sides of the setup, which was a real pain in the fucking ass to hang up. It’s dimly lit and insulated by your clothing. His leg bounces on its own accord, and he stares down at his hands for a minute before gaining the courage to look up into the mirror you propped up on a tall chest of drawers.

It reflects a black void.

His hands find the tops of his thighs, thumb rubbing against the mound of coke contained inside his shorts pocket. Temptation hooks his insides. The barbs tug his skin tight and uncomfortable. It would be so easy to snort just a little before doing this. Just enough to make this bearable. Something, anything, to sheath the knife ripping his stomach into pieces.

It would just take a second. Barely a second. He could have been done with it already if he didn’t start fucking arguing with himself.

He shakes the devil from his head and slides his hands onto each armrest, feeling the grooves of the tangerine colored cotton upholstery on his palms. His voice is quiet and shaky when he asks the mirror, “James, are you there?”

The blackness of the mirror stares back at him.

Unease settles into his skin when he realizes that he may have to dig deeper than surface level into his memories. The painful things he’s been hiding from for decades.

The thoughts of James have been locked away, buried beneath a growing pile of coping mechanisms and bad decisions. Every time James comes crawling out from his designated lockbox inside the depths of Dieter’s mind, he comes out swinging, seeking to collect the compounded interest for grief unfelt.

Whenever he sees a man with straw blonde hair and an Appalachian accent, James peaks out and asks, "Would I look like that if I were still alive?"

Each attempt to empty a screenplay from Dieter’s brain onto paper, James is there, reminding him, "You'll never be able to write without me."

Once, Dieter met a flight attendant who asked him politely what he'd like to drink. When he looked up to meet her eyes, they were too fucking familiar. Brown irises bleeding into ocean blue like another BP oil rig spilling petroleum into the Pacific. As if they had been plucked from his dead body and squeezed into her eye sockets.

He ordered a double shot of whiskey.

And another.

Dieter’s brain is haunted by the ghost of him. Each brawl with James leaves Dieter broken and bruised, brittle and hollow. Alone. Guilty. He numbs himself, doing anything to get rid of the agony burning him alive from the inside out. Anything to get that beautiful voice out of his fucking head. Each and every time, right before the point of oblivion, he hears James whisper, "I feel like I don't even know you anymore," before disappearing into his lockbox again.

When Dieter saw the way you were reeling from your drunken confession, wearing that tortured expression of self-loathing people only get when they're deeply ashamed of themselves, he knew he had to tell you about James. He needed you to know that you're not the only one who has wanted to go beyond the grave to get answers to the questions that keep you up at night.

You’re not alone.

He needs you to know that.

Dieter stares into the black nothing of the mirror and opens the vault, willingly this time.

As a kid, Dieter had seen best friends on TV shows and in movies, and his parents always talked about best friends, but he never saw them. These “best friends” seemed like a myth, only existing as pictures on screens and voices in telephones. But on the first day of school after the Bravos were stationed at Camp Lejeune, Dieter sat next to a kid that drew comics in the margins of his notebook. His name was James, and Dieter found out that best friends were real.

They clicked immediately. Both boys were innately creative and rebellious, but not in a “cool” way, like the teenage heartthrob stereotype of a misunderstood bad boy. No, they were more like the stereotypical theater kids. Minus the theater, since, of course, Lejeune High School only offered sports as an extracurricular activity.

Regardless, Dieter and James created new worlds, people to fill them, stories for them to live out. Dedicating whole school days dressing up and living as the characters they invented, bringing them to life. They made scripts and screenplays, then acted out scenes for the one person audience of Dieter’s mom.

Then there were Saturdays at The VIP Lounge.

Every Saturday morning, Dieter trailed behind James, eyes glued to the freckled, sunburned square of skin between his shimmering golden hair and sweat-drenched t-shirt collar. Tree branch shadow puppets danced on his shoulders as he breezed past the ferns and milkweed that littered the soft forest floor.

And every Saturday morning, they stepped out from the treeline onto a secluded patch of sand that they had lovingly dubbed The VIP Lounge. A sanctuary for the boys to be themselves, carved from the New River’s bank with their awkward teenage hands. They packed blankets, snacks, sketchbooks, notepads, ditch weed, and stolen cigarettes.

It’s all they needed to conjure half-baked schemes for fame and fortune, really.

Over time, their close friendship had begun to take on a new dynamic. Touches and glances would linger longer, sending Dieter's heart racing. Soft, fluttering feelings crept around the edges and closed in on their relationship. Dieter, aware of the attraction he started to feel towards his friend, would test out these new waters occasionally. When sitting next to James, he'd inch closer, carefully studying his reaction for signs of disapproval as the proximity between them decreased.

James didn't flinch away. In fact, he often would smile and blush, or sometimes even scoot even closer, until their legs were touching and their palms were sweaty.

During one sleepover, James’s voice cut through the pitch black of his bedroom, asking Dieter, “You ever think ‘bout what it’d be like to kiss a boy?”

Dieter remembers his heart thudding so loud it’s all he could hear in the silence. The wet squelch of his throat when he swallowed hard and whispered back, “Yeah.” The sigh of relief James exhaled through lips Dieter always felt drawn to. Dieter blinked his eyes open and rolled on his side to face James, trying to see his face through the darkness, "Do you?"

"Yeah," James confessed.

“Do… Do you want to try?” Dieter heard himself asking, lowering his voice even quieter to make sure nobody else could hear, “With me?”

James slowly rolled on his side to face Dieter. Adrenaline flooded their nervous systems and poured into their bloodstream. Teen hearts beating as fast as a hummingbird's.

Dieter reached out with a shaky hand, finding James just inches away, fingers landing on his freckled cheek. His thumb brushed against the flushed skin. Their faces grew closer, until they could both feel the other's trembling breath, and they were certain they couldn't miss.

It was awkward the way first kisses always are. A hesitant peck in the dark with stiff lips. They got better at it, though, over the next year.

Until General Thompson found out about them.

Dieter realizes the reflection shown by the mirror is no longer a featureless black void. He squints and sits up straight, leaning towards it. The image being displayed… isn’t really an image at all, because it’s in motion. A current of midnight blue with occasional sprays of white.

A river running from the left side of the mirror to the right.

Once he realizes what it is, he leans away, back pressing against the chair. His brain fires off smoke signals to the rest of his body, tapping into the ancient part of his brain that responds best to danger. He scrambles backwards out of the psychomanteum, trying to get the fuck away from the mirror as fast as possible.

“Already?”

Your voice faintly reaches Dieter's ears as he stumbles out of the closet. By the time the word has finished crossing your lips, he's no longer in your bedroom. All he can think is GET OUT GET OUT GET OUT.

He hears you calling his name, but it’s just background noise that’s silenced when the apartment door closes behind him.

You’re perched on the edge of your bed, staring after the sound of your apartment door slamming shut, face twisting in bewilderment. The quiet lingers with an edge that slices your ego. You get to your feet and pad into the kitchen, grabbing your phone from the counter to see if he sent you an explanation.

Nothing.

What the fuck happened to make him storm out like that?

When you call him, the loud hum of vibration sounds from your living room. You follow the noise like a beacon and sigh as you push aside a few stagnant takeout containers, then pick his phone up off the side table.

You set the phones down side-by-side on your kitchen counter and return to your bedroom, then poke your head into the walk-in closet, narrowing your eyes at the black bed sheet hanging across as a divider. Your teeth clamp down onto your tongue as you take a step forward, carefully pulling a corner back to inspect the psychomanteum’s contents.

There’s nothing odd about the setup that isn’t overtly obvious. The small space encloses a dim standing lamp, your plush, orange armchair, and a mirror that holds your reflection. Your hand rests on the back of the chair and you take a deep breath, thrumming your fingers against the upholstery.

A compulsion wills you forward. You settle your body into the chair's embrace and swallow hard as you look up into the mirror. This new angle shows you a black abyss. You stare into it and fill your brain with fond memories of Ethan.

You think about the passenger seat of his car, how you carved out a home for yourself there, tagging along when he went to do drug deals. The two of you would get stoned and drive around the city streets, listening to music, telling stories, doing whatever the fuck you felt like.

One night you confessed that you missed seeing stars in the night sky. He drove out to Jones Beach and the two of you laid on the hood of his car, staring up at the expansive galaxy for hours. Neither of you could identify a single constellation except for The Big Dipper, but it was fucking beautiful. The next day he bought two packs of those glow-in-the-dark plastic stars and stuck them to the ceiling above his bed.

“So you can see the stars every night.”

Tiny pinpricks of white light surface in the black reflection of the psychomanteum’s mirror. The shimmering lights vary in size and brightness. Stars in the nighttime sky.

Your lips part, and you’re struck by the sensation that you’re no longer alone. The already small space feels even more crowded. Your hair stands on end. Icy cold air surrounds the chair and you shiver. Your left hand begins to feel like it's been dipped in frigid water.

“Heya, sweet pea,” a familiar voice echoes through your head.

You haven’t heard it in ages. His presence wraps around you, squeezing you tight like one of his bear hugs. Memories flood out in an unstoppable tide. Being taught to ride a bike. Road trips to papa’s cabin. Playing scrabble. Watching baseball. Stargazing. Making breakfast for mom on Sundays.

On your next breath in, you smell pancake batter and maple syrup. Despite the temperature drop that raises mountain ranges of goosebumps across your skin, a warmth radiates from your chest. You feel completely at ease. It’s just like that feeling you had when you died. An omnipresent sense of oneness and belonging.

You blink.

When your eyes open, you’re in an infinite white space. Your father, as you remembered him when you were a child, is in front of you. He's absolutely beaming at you, radiating light that heats your skin like sunshine. An otherworldly sense of love spreads across your consciousness.

Your vision blurs with tears and when you respond, your mouth doesn’t open. Rather, the message is sent telepathically to him, “Hi Daddy.”

The "place" you're in, although to call it that might suggest it abides by Earth's rules of time and space, feels like a room. There’s an indefinable quality of insulation to the area, but there are no walls or floors or ceilings. Just this endless, bright warmth that hosts the two of you in its clutches.

A sea of love.

Your dad steps forward, holding his arms open, and envelops you in a hug. His arms squeeze around you tight, tighter, as tight as he can. As always, you try with all your might to match his strength when you return the hug.

Safety and comfort radiates from him to you, and you hear his voice in your head again, “I love you, Lou. I’m proud of you. You're right where you need to be.”

“I love you too,” you tell him, still squeezing him, inhaling the familiar scent of citrus and musk. Then you open your eyes to look up at him… and you’re back in the cold psychomanteum, holding nothing.

It’s long past sunset by the time Dieter returns.

In that time, you cleaned your apartment from top to bottom, dismantled the psychomanteum, made a batch of cannabutter, prepped for the next day’s orders, and started to worry-bake. You're pulling a pan of chocolate chip cookies from the oven when the intercom buzzes. The aluminum pan clatters on the stovetop as you toss it down and nudge the oven door closed with a thunk. You yank your oven mitts off and walk over to the white box, then press TALK.

"Yeah?"

"Hey, I left my phone, can I come up and grab it?"

You hold down the DOOR button for a few seconds. A current of nervous energy starts flowing from your scalp to your toes. You wring your hands together and start pacing the floor in an attempt to calm yourself. When he knocks, you swing the door open, "Jesus Christ, Dee, I was so-"

Thoughts flee your brain when you lay your eyes on his face. It's pallid and gleaming with sweat, eyes hidden behind a pair of rectangular tortoiseshell sunglasses. His jaw gnashes from one side to the other as he raises his eyebrows, "What?"

"Are- are you ok?" you reach out and grab ahold of his clammy hand, pulling him through the doorway.

"Of course I'm ok, why wouldn't I be ok? Totally fine, doll," he follows your guidance inside, then promptly shakes off your grasp as he peers around the apartment, "Do- do you have my phone? Did I leave it here?”

His speech matches the erratic, jerky pace of his body movements. Dieter spots the device on the kitchen counter, picks it up, and starts texting someone, unbothered by your watchful eye. He rips off his sunglasses and tosses them on your counter, then resumes texting. A familiar kind of unease sets your hair on edge.

You bite the inside of your cheek and cross your arms in front of you, "Where'd you go?"

His blown-out black eyes peek over the top of his phone and he shrugs, "Met some friends."

You nod and drop your gaze to your feet, "You left without saying anything. I- I was worried about you.”

"What is this, a guilt trip?" he scoffs, tossing his phone onto the counter with a thud that makes you jump, then tilts his head to the side and sneers, "Sorry I didn't want to do your little uhh... mirror trick thing. I had to get out of this creepy fucking apartment, Lua. I mean, you get that, right? How fucking creepy it is in here?"

Earlier today, before he left, it was impossible not to notice the way Dieter’s eyes would linger on the hallway or the spare bedroom door. You’d interrupt his teeth grinding, foot tapping, absent stare and ask what’s wrong, and he’d dismiss your question with a wane smile.

But you feel it, too. The ever-present tingle at the back of your neck that tells you that you’re being watched.

Your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and you nod again, trying to ignore the tears burning behind your eyes, "Yep."

"You know he's still here, right? Ethan, I mean. I see him in that fuckin' room. Saw him in there last night," he presses a knuckle to one of his nostrils and sniffs a postnasal drip back into his skull, "Just standing in the dark like a fuckin'- like a fuckin’ uhh…”

He snaps his fingers a few times in rapidfire, trying to jog his own tenuous memory. Agitation spikes your blood pressure.

“Fucking hell, Dee, go sit down,” you pinch the bridge of your nose and point to your couch, then breeze into your bedroom before Dieter can start running his mouth again.

You pull open your bedside drawer, grabbing an ashtray and a joint out of its designated altoids tin. When you return to the living room, Dieter is pacing back and forth, running his fingers through his hair, muttering to himself.

“Sit,” you command while raising a lighter flame to the joint, puffing away until its tip is glowing orange and spilling thick plumes of smoke. He ignores your request, but stops pacing and watches you. The THC blooms in your lungs and a haze begins to settle in your brain. You take another puff and hold the joint out to him, “Hit this. You’re crashing hard.”

He accepts the offering and takes a hit while you go fill up the biggest cup you own with ice water. You drop cookies onto a plate, then return to the living room, “You wanna stay out here or go lay in my bed?”

His brow furrows and he frowns, “I- I- I- no, I have to meet-”

“No,” you shake your head, “You’re gonna be out of commission for a while, love, so… living room or bedroom?”

He takes a hit off the joint and exhales, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, swinging his hands around in grand gestures as he talks, “I’m gonna be fine, Lua, look, I know what I’m doing, ok? I just need to call my guy-”

“The fuck you are, Bravo,” you interrupt, setting down the glass of water and plate of cookies on the side table, “When’s the last time you slept?”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m fine, I know what I’m about, babe,” he scoffs, puffs the joint, starts pacing again, “You- you- you can’t tell me what to do, you know. I’m my own person. Everyone always trying to tell me what I can and can’t do and I’m fucking sick of it,” he stops, sniffs away his coke drip, and narrows his eyes at you, “This is your fault, anyway. You know that, right, Lua? If I didn’t have to think of fucking James, and that- that- that fucking river,” his voice cracks and his shoulders sag, face falling into sadness as his eyes well up with tears.

His accusations pierce sharp and precise into your heart. You remind yourself that this isn’t Dieter. It’s the obvious cocaine binge that has set his brain on fire, steering him towards self-destruction. Your lips remain sealed and your eyes drop to the black stain on your carpet. You remind yourself that this isn’t Ethan, either. Dieter can still be brought back to sanity.

He takes a puff off the joint and exhales, staring up at the ceiling with watery, far-away eyes, “I loved him, you know. First love. But his dad-”

Abruptly, he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs as he buries his head in his hands. All is still for a moment before his body starts to heave with sobs. You crouch down next to him, plucking the loosely held joint from his fingers. As you stand up, you take another hit, then crush the glowing cherry in an ashtray.

You return to the heap of a man crumbled on your floor and sit facing him, knees pressed against his shins, and remind him, “I’m here, Dee. Talk to me.”

“His d-dad saw us k-k-k-kissing, and he- he- beat the shit out of him, Lua. Almost fucking killed him. And I just stood there. I didn’t do anything. I- I let it happen,” he takes a deep, shattered breath, then continues, “He wasn’t the same after. It’s like he fucking died right there in front of me and I let it happen. Word got out, and we moved to a new base. And-” a high-pitched squeal of agony fades into more choked sobs, and he looks up at you, face sopping wet with tears and utterly fucking tortured, “He drowned himself.”

“Oh, Dee-” tears blur your vision as secondhand sorrow aches your chest. Your hands find either side of his face, thumbs wiping away his tears in vain, “Can I hug you? Is that ok?”

He nods and you climb onto his lap, wrapping your arms and legs around his torso. You squeeze him tight. Your best attempt at a bear hug. He buries his face in your neck and continues to cry. You slide one arm around his head and cradle him against your chest, petting his sweaty, messy, hair, and you whisper to him the phrase you tell yourself every day, “It’s not your fault, ok? Not your fault, Dee, I promise. It’s not your fault.”

His sobbing starts anew, and he pulls you close. Hot, wet tears drench your neck and shirt. Anguish rolls off of him in waves, and you wish you could absorb every ounce of pain from him like a sponge. He nuzzles in closer, and you allow yourself to sink into the comfort of his body wrapped up with yours. You trail your fingers through his messy locks with one hand while the other gently scratches his back.

Something stirs inside you, soft and sweet.

You think about the numerous phone calls with him throughout the past few months. FaceTime, text messages, Snapchat. How his name popping up in your notifications always makes your heart skip a beat. How seeing his handsome face, or hearing his voice, always seems to make your day better. How he flew across the country for the sole purpose of spending time with you for a few days between projects.

Granted, this visit has been a complete and utter shitshow so far, but there have been moments that you find yourself staring at his lips, longing for his hands on your bare skin, imagining the heat of his body pressed against yours.

In his absence today, you couldn’t stop from wondering whether or not he would return, thoughts always drifting to the worst. You typed his name into Google, searching for the latest headlines to make sure he wasn’t found dead somewhere. Nothing surfaced, of course, except for the latest exposition on his divorce, which you avoided reading even though it piqued your curiosity.

The idea of losing him ate away at you more and more with every second. You’re grateful to be curled around his shattered breaths, knowing that even though he’s crashing and burning, he’s alive.

It occurs to you… that you care about him deeply.

He takes a deep, shaky breath, and it seems that the active flow of tears has slowed to a stop. You close your eyes and squeeze him hard. He pulls back to look at you, eyes all swollen, red, and glassy. His hands slide to your waist, and his thumbs smooth circles against your sides. The contact pools liquid hot in your belly.

You search his puffy, tear-stained face, running a hand through his hair, “Wanna go lay down for a bit?”

He nods and peers behind you, sniffling, “It smells good in here.”

The corners of your mouth upturn, and you bring your hands to meet at the nape of his neck, “I made chocolate chip cookies, do you want some? You must be hungry.”

“Fucking starving,” he admits, but his grip on your waist tightens and he nuzzles back into your chest, “I don’t wanna move, though.”

Warmth radiates across your chest and you hope he can’t hear the way your heart just started pounding.

“We can cuddle in my bed. I’ll bring cookies and make a frozen pizza. Does that sound ok?” you rest your cheek on the crown of his head and stroke his hair.

He hums in the affirmative, pulling you closer, and mumbles against your drenched t-shirt, “Dibs on little spoon.”

This pulls a chuckle from your belly, “Fine, but you have to drink at least two glasses of water and take a shower. Then you’re gonna stay here while your comedown passes. Deal?”

“Deal.”

After eating half a dozen cookies and two frozen pizzas that have to be at least 50% cardboard, guzzling down 2 quarts of water, and taking a hot shower, Dieter lays his head down on your bosom and promptly passes the fuck out for 12 hours.

Withdrawal keeps him pinned down at its mercy for another two days, allowing him to only exist as a hollowed out zombie who shuffles from your bedroom, to the bathroom to use your toilet, then to the kitchen for food and water, then back into your bed to sleep.

It’s a miserable kind of half-existence. Blanketed in a thick, web-like fatigue that anchors him to the bed.

He catches glimpses of your day-to-day routine while cycling through this pattern. Sometimes you would be in bed next to him, watching tv or writing in a journal. Sometimes you were in the kitchen, dancing and singing along to music while baking. Sometimes you were in the living room, reading or fucking around on your phone. Once, you were talking to a client who spotted him and asked, “Is that Dieter Bravo?”

You gaslit the shit out of her and shooed her from the apartment.

Now when he wakes, blinking his eyes open to find the sky is still a dimly lit dark blue, casting a cool light onto the room, he is relieved to find that the fog in his brain has lifted. There’s a tranquil silence in the apartment that he inhales like his first breath. He rolls onto his side, relaxing into this unfamiliar feeling of peace, sinking even further into your mattress.

This is when he notices that you’re in the bed, too.

Your back is facing him, body completely still except for the gentle expansion and compression of your ribcage, quiet puffs of air escaping your nose.

His stomach churns when he remembers how he treated you when he was strung out. The hurt he saw in your eyes when he mocked the psychomanteum. How he tried to pick a fight with you. He was angry, lashing out at you for making him confront James.

You didn’t really make him, though. It was his choice. His anger was misdirected.

It was like all his emotions were collapsing in on him at once. This crudely pasted together façade of a man crumbled into pieces on your living room floor. And what did you do?

You looked at him, a sobbing trainwreck on the ground, and embraced him. Told him it wasn’t his fault. Let him empty his tears onto your shirt. Fed him, sheltered him, nursed him back to some semblance of a human.

Without hesitation, you graced him with a kindness he’s never encountered. How could he ever repay you?

Nothing he can think of is adequate enough to express his gratitude.

You take a sharp inhale and start to stir. Dieter scoots closer, drawn to the notes of vanilla and macadamia nuts that waft from your hair. To the warmth of your body that he longs to feel against his skin.

He reaches out and hesitantly presses the pads of his fingers to your shoulder. Testing the waters. You hum and lean into the touch, scooting back towards him.

In one swift movement, he pulls you into an embrace, snaking an arm under your head, draping the other over the dip of your waist. Your back against his bare chest. The sections of skin peaking out from beneath your tank top stick to him like glue, both of you tacky with a gleaming coat of sleep sweat. He nuzzles into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath of you, letting your presence consume him.

Tears burn behind his eyes as it dawns on him: you mean more to him than he ever anticipated.

When he met you and recalled his visions of your future together, he expected something, of course. Although a skeptical part of him always had reservations.

But he never expected to feel safe with you. Never thought another person could see his ugly, broken pieces and beckon him closer instead of shoo him away. His heart thuds with humility and adoration.

You hum again, wriggling further into his embrace with a sleepy sigh, “G’morning.”

“Good morning,” he whispers back. A fat, salty tear breaks loose and rolls down his cheek, onto your shoulder.

“Feelin’ better?”

He nods, mumbles against your neck, “Much better,” then his voice cracks as he says, “Thank you, Lua.”

You reach back, finding his cheek with your hand, and rub your thumb against his patchy beard. The motion sends tingles all the way down to the base of his spine. His hand at your side slides up to your belly and grips the fabric of your baggy tank top.

“I’m sorry for being a fucking asshole to you,” he adds in a whisper, “I feel terrible.”

The gentle circles against his jawline continue to trickle down the center of him as you mumble, “I’m just glad you’re feeling better, love.”

He hums and closes his eyes, concentrating on the tiny movements of your body against his. How you’re arching towards him ever-so-slightly. The soft little huff you let out when his grasp on your shirt tightens. He feels the muscles in your legs tense and shift, like you’re trying to create friction between your thighs.

When he thinks about sliding his hand between them, his heart starts to thud in his chest. Blood laced with desire, spreading this aching, heavy-handed lust throughout his body like a virus. His fingers twitch at your belly, where they release your shirt and slip underneath, splaying across the heat of your skin.

You hum in approval. He swears you try to move even closer.

“Let me make it up to you,” he wets his lips, then presses them against your pulse. You gasp and grab ahold of the hair at the nape of his neck, and he starts to back away in a panic before realizing that you’re pulling him closer.

He lays another kiss down on your neck, then mumbles against your skin, relishing the salty bite of sweat that transfers to his tongue, “No strings, right? That’s what you want?”

Beneath the covers, his fingertips slide across the soft skin of your belly, and you let out a soft gasp as you nod, “Can- can we still be friends, though?”

His fingertips graze the elastic band of your underwear and he leans into your ear, “Nothing has to change if you don’t want it to.”

Dieter props himself up on his elbow and stares down at you, watching your eyes flutter and face flush in reaction to his wandering touch. The tip of your tongue darts out and licks your lips. He imagines what the soft muscle would feel like in his mouth. Against his neck. Along the length of him.

The thought pools hot lava that urges him to touch you more, grip your skin harder, move this along faster. He wants to feel your arousal douse his fingers. He wants to taste you on his tongue. He wants to hear your moans when you're falling apart in his hands.

His muscles burn as he tries to keep himself tethered, reigning in this mounting animalistic need to devour you.

“I want to show you how grateful I am, Lua,” he lays a slow, gentle kiss on your shoulder, pressing his lips to a torn up, blackwork tattoo of a pomegranate. His fingertips trail along your abdomen, entranced by the way your whole body trembles under his touch, “Do you want that?”

You nod, peering up at him through your lashes, meeting his lust-blown black eyes. Desire rolls off of him in waves, washing over you, condensation collecting hot and damp at your center.

He tugs at your underwear under the sheets, sliding them down your legs inch by inch, his whisper burning in your ear, " Say it , baby. Tell me what you want."

A whimper escapes your lips and you arch your back up towards him, "Touch me, Dee, please."

Your underwear at your feet, he pulls the covers back and reveals you to the morning light.

He hovers above you, licking his lips, drinking in the sight of your pussy as his hands ghost along the tender skin of your thighs. When his gaze falls on your tank top, he shakes his head and yanks on the thin fabric, "We gotta do something about this."

Without hesitation, you pull it off over your head and toss it on the ground, "Better?"

"Fucking perfect. You are-" he cuts himself off with a groan, biting down on his plush bottom lip. Dieter sits up and stuffs a few pillows behind your back. The heat of his palm presses against the base of your skull and his warmth drips down to your cunt. His other hand splays across your sternum, pushing you back until you're resting atop the pile of pillows, head cradled in his impossibly large hand.

You follow his wordless guidance, watching him in awe, completely mesmerized, aching at the thought of what he'll do to you.

The bridge of his nose presses against your cheek, his breath a furnace on your skin, and his fingertip traces the outline of your mouth, "Open."

You obey, parting your lips for his thumb. It scrapes against your teeth and draws circles into a pool of saliva on your tongue. He withdraws and brings his hand to grip the soft flesh of your breast, brushing his wet thumb across the bud. The contact is electric, sending a current of pleasure rippling across your skin, dripping down your spine.

A whimper escapes your lips and he hums in approval when you puff out your chest against his hand, "That's it, doll, I wanna hear how good you fucking feel."

Your gaze drifts to his face, and you lift a hand to his chin, turning his head to meet your eyes. When they lock on, all the air whooshes from his lungs. You drag your thumb along his bottom lip, and he opens his mouth for you to enter.

Mimicking him, you collect spit from the soft velvet of his tongue. When you pull away, a web of his saliva gaps the growing divide and falls across your chest as you grab your unoccupied breast, using his lubrication to tease your nipple. He groans, eyes drifting back to watch you squeeze and pinch yourself.

"Do you like to be handled rough?" he asks, gaze returning to study your face when he rolls your nipple in his fingers, applying firm pressure.

You shudder, "S-sometimes."

"Is that how you want it now? Hmm?" he brings his lips to your shoulder and catches your skin in his teeth, making you gasp. His fingers clamp down on your nipple hard and he growls, "You want me to fucking wreck you?"

And- fucking hell - the way he talks to you like this, so direct, so eager to learn exactly what sets you on fire, it fills you with a heavy, aching need. With a breathy moan, you answer him, "Yes- yes , fucking destroy me, Dee."

His grip on your head tightens, balling your hair tight in his fist, tugging at your scalp. Your body shudders and you bite your bottom lip, closing your eyes to revel in the ecstasy. His lips press against your neck in a gentle kiss that makes way for his tongue to roll circles onto your thudding pulse.

A trail of trembling nerves follow the pads of his fingers down your torso to your vulva. He stops here and tugs at your thicket of pubic hair, "You like having your hair pulled?"

You gasp in surprise and your eyes snap open to meet his hot gaze on your face. He has a mischievous grin plastered on his face as he pulls at your hair from both sides, watching the way your face contorts with bliss. In a half-chuckle, half-moan, you admit, "That's really fucking good, actually, holy shit -"

"Yeah?" his smile widens and he pulls harder, sending a jolt of electricity to your cunt that makes you moan.

"That's what I want, sweetheart, want you to feel fucking amazing. You deserve that, you know?" He drags a finger along the seam of you and purrs, "You're a caretaker, aren't you? Always taking care of people?"

Your eyelids flutter and you nod with a moan as he spreads your lips and runs his fingers through your arousal.

"Mmm, yeah you are," he finds your clit and traces the swollen bud with precision, "Well right now, I'm taking care of you, ok?"

"Ok," you pant, swallowing hard as you look up at him and whimper, "Fuck , Dee, that's so good ."

His dark eyes meet yours with intensity, searching your face as he draws tight circles that echo pleasure throughout your body. Ecstasy rolls steady in your center. You buck your hips against his touch, hungry for more friction as your body starts to feel weightless.

He takes your cue and applies pressure through his fingertips, rubbing you harder, faster.

You nod and gasp, "Yes, just like that, baby, yes."

His grip on your hair tightens and a moan rips from your throat. He growls, "Pussy is just fucking dripping wet for me. So fucking-"

His hand slides down your front as he sinks two digits deep into your cunt. A wrecked sob bubbles out your throat as the sensation electrifies you. His palm bears down on your clit, and he starts to rock his hand back and forth, fingers squelching in your arousal as they slide in and out.

You are enveloped in a haze of lust, completely fucking lost in the feel of his hand stretching your walls.

"So- fucking- wet, sweetheart, do you hear that?" he starts at a brutal pace, broadcasting the unmistakable sound throughout the quiet apartment. His jaw is slack and his eyes wild as he meets your gaze.

You nod and whimper frantically, glancing down at his parted lips as his tongue darts along them.

The thought only crosses your mind for a moment before you're grabbing his face and pulling him towards you, pressing your lips against his. He responds with a moan against your mouth and returns the kiss with enthusiasm.

It's just like you hoped it would be.

Messy and passionate, painting his saliva on your tongue and lips, bodies bumping together as his fingers slide in and out of your cunt mercilessly. Your body finds a new plane of existence, twisting and turning into a thick static of pleasure that starts to overtake you.

"Dee , I'm-" you whimper against his lips, "I'm gonna fucking cum, don't stop-"

"Good , baby, that's good, cum for me, Lua," he pants, stealing pecks from your lips between breaths, "Cum all over my fucking hand, baby- wanna feel you squeeze my fingers-"

Bliss crashes down on your body in waves, hot and all-consuming, making every part of your body tremble with ecstacy. You cry out as Dieter works you through the orgasm, pressing kisses to your sweaty forehead, to your cheek, breath hot against your face as he groans, "Fuck, yes, oh that's so good, sweetheart, fucking amazing."

"Holy fuck, Dieter," you pant as your body starts to soften and relax.

He grins down at you, chest heaving, and pulls his pussy-drenched hand to his mouth. His lips wrap around each digit, licking them all clean before he leans in to kiss you.

The kiss is soft and slow, generous with an intimacy that tugs at something warm and cozy inside you. He pulls back and meets your eyes again, a new kind of hesitancy lingering in his gaze.

"Will you cuddle me again?" you ask in a shy whisper, face heating with embarrassment.

"C'mere, doll," Dieter grins wide and nods, beckoning you closer.

You roll to face him and his arms wrap around your naked body, pulling you flush against his skin. His hard-on, still trapped within the confines of his boxers, presses against you. Your body flushes when you start trying to picture it in your head, imagining what he would feel like inside you, wondering if that will ever happen or if this is a one-time occurrence.

"So, are you going to run away from me now?" he rumbles, cupping your cheek, running his thumb along your cheekbone affectionately. He reeks of you. And you like it.

The question rolls around your head as you consider it. What does this mean for the two of you? Your friendship? He said it doesn't have to change anything. Unlike the variety of bar and tinder hookups you've had in the past, you don't immediately want to banish him from your life.

This is actually… really fucking great. The warmth of his body against yours, his touch on your skin, the closeness that feels natural when you’re with him. You don’t want him to leave.

Which is a good sign, right?

"We're still friends?" you ask in return, searching his face. Your palm rests against his chest, soaking up the heat from his pounding heart.

He nods and cards his fingers through your hair gently, "Absolutely."

"Then, no, I think... I think I'll keep you around," you meet his warm eyes and shrug jokingly, "I guess. If you want. Or whatever.”

"Wow! So nonchalant, Lua," he grins, then pulls you into a bear hug against his bare chest as you giggle. He mumbles into your hair, "I do, I do want that."

With a content hum, you ask, “What now?”

[ Next Chapter ]

#dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo #pedrostories #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fandom #psychomanteum

117 notes · View notes

saltiestcoconut · 8 months ago

Text

Thank you for tagging me @offlineblues !

Let's keep up the tradition and shove it under a read more lmao

I ain't gonna tag— fuck it @4lmog @shifuto get your asses in here you too @mewhoismyself

Last song:

Last movie/show:

(let's pretend that prev's last song didn't instantly make me crave listening to) MORNING LIGHT HYMNUS oh my god is this song such a banger and an absolutely gorgeous love song (it's perfectly named too since the song is dedicated to a character whose name means morning star) ugh this song is so raw it's hard to believe that it's one of belials theme songs of all things (granted it's avatar belials theme but it's still belial) with lyrics as raw as its too hard to describe the million lonely nights without you | someday we shall meet once more (how much longer must I wait?) | a sea of love, tides of hate lie before us / drown in my soul, give yourself all to me, and wander no more | I need you back besides me, hollow fool that I am | grant me just one wish I beg, please take your servant's hand... Oh my god just kill me now this is peak romance it speaks to my very soul imagine someone feeling that intensely for you . . . (Yes I wanted an excuse to talk about this song I just love it so much)

Favorite Color:

I have a few favorite colors like blue purple black white gold is a pretty color too there's a lot of pretty colors out there too it's on a case by case basis surely

I watched that demon slayer movie with my sister last month! Yay I actually watched something semi recently lmao (it was really fun she got us tickets to the 4D version (it wasn't in 3d unfortunately) where the chairs moved so I affectionately called it the rollar coaster simulator lmao) I should really watch the what fourth season? Sis and I were confused cause it literally opened in the middle of an arc so naturally we were missing some information lmao (can y'all believe my sis watched the newest season without me (again) unbelievable) other than that I think the last show I watched was go rush? My laptop is acting up so I can't watch shows even if I wanted to . . . (my charger broke too so I can't use it while charging even if I wanted to)

Sweet / spicy / savory

Def a big fan of spicy but I like savory and sweet things too I probably have a higher sweet tolerance than some people maybe idk my sweet dislikes is pretty long . . .

Relationship status:

It's complicated (the only thing complicated about it is my feelings about romance in general lmao)

Last Search:

Morning light hymnus pokemon legends arceus on eBay I wanted to check to see if the steel book is affordable (it is)

Current obsession:

Granblue Fantasy 100% it's consumed my life why must a gacha game beat out my card game (gacha) obsession it's kinda funny— within gbf itself the archangels and dragon knights definitely I love vane he's the best malewife (I can make a malewife out of lucifer or sandalphon five bucks) (belial is already a malewife don't gotta do anything to him it's in his being)

Wow I rambled a lot if you read through it all thank you for listening to my insane ramblings!

GET TO KNOW THE BLOGGER ASK GAME

tagged by @pocketsonny ♡ thank you!

i ramble on too much, so i'll make it a read more! here goes~

TAGGING in advance (if you want)

@armos @fleury @saltiestcoconut @gntk

Last Song

i've been listening to MMBN's OST for around 2 weeks straight. i would really like to play this game soon, since i bought the collection on sale for 50% off~ (looks at @pocketsonny who keeps nudging me to play as well by talking excitedly about it)

Net Battle and Fire Field are so good...

Favorite Color

i really like gray the most, i think. i really like rose pink, lavender and lilac purple, flowery yellow, and soft blue and mild green a lot as well! something like this?

i also love the colors of the sunrise, the sunset, and the galaxy

Last Movie / Show

the last movie i saw became my favorite movie! i watched it with @xx-moonluster-xx and @duelofai !

i had a lot of fun. Nausicaä's messages of decay and rebirth were so wonderful. also i love the gentle giant bugs and the extraordinary fantasy world they created (it was so beautiful and the OST is so good too)

otherwise, i've been rewatching FMAB in a group with 3 people after 12 years. it used to be my favorite series a long long time ago, so i'm really happy to watch it now that i'm older and understand the world from another perspective (and thus, understand and resonate with the grim reality this series often times presents)

Sweet / Spicy / Savory

Relationship Status

spicy, definitely! savory is always good! i'm not the biggest fan of sweet!

@armos and i celebrated our 10 years dating anniversary in January!!

Last Search

Current Obsession

definitely not the movie and show official art above—

this will be random, but, lots of people on twt have been posing and dressing up the new plush Yusaku, so i've been itching to see them in new and fun ways. isn't he adorable? i just want to squeeze him (shows you mine i bought for my partner)

additionally, i've been playing a lot of Blue Rescue Team again lately (i have almost 500 hours on record) because i'm trying to recruit them all! it's a bit of a task, though. there's tons of 1% encounters and they can take a long time to get lucky and join you. (pictured: me recruiting all 1% encounters at once in Howling Forest somehow)

#wow did i ramble #this is what happens when i have too many thoughts and dont bother writing them all down lmao #have i meantioned that i still cant believe *belial* of all people got the epic grand glorious love song #shoot with the way lucilius tells belial concentrate/ you lacks focus fuck i understand him now #ive been converted may all the lucifaces be bathed in glory #i mean what #literally about me #i aint tagging all the fuck that (only mentioned three series)

16 notes · View notes

hiphop-rap-and-basketball · 3 years ago

Text

Die For You • Jayson Tatum

Pairing: Jayson Tatum x baby momma reader (lmaoo)

Word Count: 1,967

Summary: surprise shortyyyy 🤰🤰🏻🤰🏼🤰🏽🤰🏾🤰🏿

Warnings: none, just slight reference to seggs obviously but it’s very fluffy/sweet

A/N: n: well well well, if it isn’t me in my FEELINGS. We been knew tho lmaoo. this is kind of… angsty??? Idk??? Is that the word? I just start writing and see where I go lmaoo. Can’t believe I’m dropping my first Jayson imagine let’s goooo. It's very short and sweet but I like it :) just a lil something something since I haven’t posted and just want to get my mind off things.

💖This imagine is inspired by the song Die For You by The Weekend, it’s kind of an older song but if you haven’t listened to it in a while go listen to it right now! Then listen to it while you’re reading, then listen to it after you read it. Lmaoo jkjk I can’t read and listen to a song at the same time but like ugh the way the lyrics goes so perfect with this little short story. Just do it 😏

“I would die for you and Deuce, I hope you know that.”

Those were the last words Jayson said to you since your conversation on the phone last night that ended with you in tears.

As you looked down at the pregnancy test box in your clammy and shaky hands, you were hoping he meant that shit.

Your conversations lately had not been well. You missed him terribly when he was gone for long periods of time and that resulted in you lashing out on him about making time for you. You understood basketball was his career and the NBA was always his dream. You loved Deuce with all of your heart and Jayson changed your life.

But you missed the date nights, late night talks in the car, the romance being at its peak when everything felt so new. Laughing until your stomach hurt and eating way too much on date nights. Those days felt like a distant memory now as so much has changed as his career improved tremendously.

So you finally decided to open up to him about that feeling you had in your conversation with him on the phone last night. He chose his words carefully as he knew you were valid in your feelings but sometimes he would not be in the mood to tolerate your mood, like last night, for example.

When he said that one sentence that made you question everything.

“You knew what you signed up for by being with me.”

He was a good father to Deuce, which made up for a lot of your sad feelings about your relationship. But that was the problem. He poured into Deuce, he poured into basketball, but for the past couple of months, it felt like he did not pour into you.

When he said that sentence your heart immediately sank. It almost felt like you meant nothing to him. Your thoughts were irrational and your emotions where all over the place.

Flash forward to today, you sat on the cold bathroom floor tiles with a million thoughts running through your mind of all the possibilities after seeing the results of the test. The past couple of weeks you had felt a lot of nausea in the mornings and late nights. You were weaning off of breastfeeding and had yet to have gotten a chance to pick up birth control pills from the pharmacy.

Pregnant or Not Pregnant. You had two options.

Pregnant would mean another long nine months of nausea, sleepless nights and many mood swings that you would most likely unintentionally let out on Jayson. It would mean a lot of questioning whether or not Jayson was worthy of being the man to have your kids, as there were many night you would sleep alone and uncomfortable, while he was somewhere across the states celebrating another win for the Celtics.

Not pregnant would mean today would be just another day of taking just another test that would not mean anything once it was tossed away in the garbage.

You looked a Deuce who was in his playroom across from you in the bathroom. The tv was on and he was distracted by the array of toys sitting in front of him. You regained your focus on the task at hand now. You had to take it, you knew you did. You did everything you could today to avoid possibly seeing those two little lines on the small rectangular screen of the stick.

The apartment was clean, the dishes were washed, the bed sheets were neatly folded. You had completed every task possible just to avoid the ultimate feeling of your heart dropping to your stomach in response to those two little lines.

Once you finished your business, you set the test upside down on the bathroom sink quickly. You shut the door and focused your attention to Deuce for a moment as he rubbed his eyes and looked ready for bed. You picked him up into your arms and prepared him for bed. Laying with him and playing with his fingers as he looked up at you, drinking from his bottle before his eyelids grew heavy, as he quickly fell asleep.

Your heart raced again as you remembered what you were doing prior to laying with him. You sighed deeply, finally ready to face your truth. Your shaky hand reached for the door knob, as you twisted it slowly and looked at the test sitting upside down on the bathroom counter.

You stared at it for a moment before finally lifting it.

Two lines.

You let out a deep, choppy exhale. You looked down at your stomach, rubbing it for a moment before looking in the mirror. You had not a clue how far along you could possibly be. You felt your emotions get the best of you again, thinking about being pregnant.

The beauty of it was the end result, having a beautiful child that looked like you and your lover. Raising them to be a strong individual with the knowledge of their cultural background making them who they are and every reason for them to be proud.

The painful part was yet to come. As you began to think how you would feel more sickness, more swelling, and soon enough you would be carrying around a heavy belly. You sat down and cried alone on the cold bathroom floor, wondering how you would do it all over again.

When you finally regained the strength to get up, you made your way to the kitchen for a big glass of water. You searched through the cabinets in hopes that you would come across the half empty bottle of prenatal pills that you may or may not have still had around there somewhere.

You heard keys shuffling from a distance in the hallway. Hearing him unlock the door felt painstakingly long as you fumbled out a pill from the bottle and stored it back where you found it. You tapped your fingers on the counter until finally you observed his tall figure walk into your apartment.

He drops his bag on the floor to the side of him as soon as he saw you. Without saying a word he scoops you up effortlessly, and you wrap your legs around his waist and arms around his head, burring your face in the crook of his neck. He held you for a moment, deeply inhaling the familiar smell of home for him that was you, that he missed so much when he was gone.

“Hi,” he whispered near your ear.

“Hi,” you managed to mutter back as he set you back down to your feet, still holding you close for a moment.

“Deuce?”

“Asleep for the night,” you whispered. You reached up to caress his cheek with your hand, he brought his hand to yours, intertwining your fingers together as he looked into your eyes. “How was your flight?” You asked him.

“Long,” he replied, voice husky and strained when he spoke. “How are you?”

“Um,” you sighed, shifting your weight from one leg to another. “I’m okay.”

His smile grew as he observed all of your facial features. Even though he had hundreds of pictures of you saved in his camera roll, nothing beat the feeling of seeing your beauty in person.

“Look I…” he began. “I thought a lot about what you said and, there was no reason for me to speak like that to you or even say that, really.”

You sat down now, trying to process his words as your mind was still distracted on your news. He continued and you wondered what he would say, and when would be the right time to tell him.

“I love you, with all my heart. I haven’t been the best man to you and I want to make it up to you. I want to be a better man for you, because you deserve that. You deserve the communication from me that you ask for- not no half ass shit.”

You looked at him in awe, feeling warmth in your heart as he was taking accountability for his actions. You wished he would have said all this sooner. But he was saying it right now, and that was step one of many.

“Jayson,” you replied softly.

“I mean it, you’re my one and only. You deserve so much love and I can show you so much more. I’m so, so sorry,” he trailed off, looking genuinely sad as the words spewed out of his mouth, you felt a tinge of guilt in your heart for going off on him in almost every phone conversation lately but this is really what you wanted and needed to hear.

“Thank you… I love you Jayson. I just want to feel appreciated and loved by you.”

“I know… I love you too. You deserve that.”

You stare at him for a moment as he continues to form words to say you felt the familiar lump forming in your throat in response.

“It’s not a hard request. I feel stupid for even treating it like it was one. I put basketball first everyday of my life but that doesn’t mean you should be neglected in the process. You’ve taken such good care of Deuce and he loves you so much…”

“Jayson…” you whispered almost inaudible.

“What?” He asked with his brows furrowed still, looking into your eyes with deep concern.

“I’m pregnant,” you mumbled, not realizing that breaking the news to him would bring even more tears to your eyes, and it did. Your vision grew clouded and when you closed your eyes for a moment, tear drops spilled down your cheeks.

The look on his face was not what you expected. You worried he would be upset. He looked the complete opposite, in fact, he had the biggest smile growing on his face.

“Really?” He replied.

You nodded, rubbing the tears from your eyes but they kept coming.

“Y/N- I’m- I’m so happy,” he picked you up again, spinning you around this time and setting you down. He grabbed your face with both hands and gave you the sweetest kiss, before rubbing his nose against yours.

“How far along? I mean- did you just find out? Y/N - I’m so- wow,” he chuckled, unable to form a proper sentence.

“Today, um- I-I just took the test.” You sniffed.

“That recent? Well. We did have a good night on Valentine’s Day,” he chuckled and you rolled your eyes at him in response.

“Jayson,” you chuckled.

Although, reminiscing on that night did send shivers down your spine. He knew how to make love to you, and he did it well.

He knelt down to bring his face to your stomach as he began planting kissing on it and rubbing it and hugging you a dozen times.

“I can’t believe it,” he smiled in between planting a dozen more kisses on your belly. You brought your hands to his head, running your hands over his tousled hair as you giggled.

“We’re ready. Oh Y/N, this is so beautiful- you’re so beautiful. I hope it’s a girl,” he smiled, giving you multiple kisses on your lips now.

“Why’s that?” You giggled.

“I want to be a girl dad… and I think Deuce would love having a little sister.”

“Aw, Jayson,” you smiled, poking out your bottom lip pretending to not cry but crying anyway.

“Can we go make another one? Right now?” He replied, looking into your eyes with his hands gripping your waist.

“I don’t think it works like that, Jayson,” you giggled.

“It does now,” he chuckled, scooping you up into his arms and walking you to your bedroom as the two of you were enamored for each other all over again.

#jayson tatum #Jayson Tatum imagine #got me in my feelings #boston celtics #woohoo

293 notes · View notes