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joonsytip · 4 months

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Withering for You || Seungcheol- Part 3

Pairings: Seungcheol x Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut, CEO! Seungcheol au, Husband! Seungcheol au, Wife! Reader au, Music Teacher! Reader au, Arranged Marriage au, College Sweetheart au, Exes to Lovers au

Synopsis: When you are arranged married to the man, whose heart you had broken years ago, even dreaming about mending things seems next to impossible when he has been holding grudge for all these only to return it to you tenfold.

Warnings (specific to this part): suggestive, crying, profanities, love blooms, mentions of infidelity (doesn't happen to though), mention of alcohol consumption, betrayal, rock bottom, italics represents occurrences in past

Word Count: 6.4k

TAGLIST FOR THIS SERIES IS CLOSED!

Banner credits to my baby @hoeforhao <3

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Seungcheol is distressed. He thinks something is wrong with you. Though he had dismissed all the previous occurrences, he can't do it anymore. You're distant nowadays. You don't kiss him goodbyes. You don't say the 'I love you's. You're always ditching him at any chance given. You don't let him sneak into your sheets.

The inseparable godly campus couple are barely seen together nowadays. The rumours are being spread. Some are worried, some are happy. Though you both had no secrets, Seungcheol still thinks you must have your own reasons if you're keeping something upto yourself. He tries his best to be patient and waits for you to come back because he trusts you.

Seungcheol is an enigma. He's sculpted, he's hella smart, he's hella rich. The girls lined up outside the dorm just to catch a glimpse of him. The guys hogged out his dorm room just to know how can someone be a full package.

He knew people would either love him for his looks or mostly for his money. He had no hope of making genuine friends until he came across Wonwoo, a scholarship student, who was aloof and coincidentally his assigned roommate.

If Seungcheol thought he was good at pushing people away, he was amazed to see Wonwoo. Sharing the dorm room with him was almost living alone. Seungcheol couldn't pinpoint why but he knew Wonwoo hated him. So one day after gathering courage and confronting him, Seungcheol comes to know about his cautiousness against rich people in general. Then one talk lead to two, two lead to three and that's how Seungcheol and Wonwoo became friends.

He was sure he wouldn't find love until you came in the picture.

A hard slap comes against Seungcheol's cheek and the whole campus becomes eerily silent.

"How dare you submit my assignment in your name?", you are fuming in rage and raise your hand to slap him again when he holds your hand mid air.

"What the hell are you talking about?", he hisses through his teeth.

You scoff, "The audacity to pretend, Mr. Choi Seungcheol. Just because you have looks and money which you have no contribution in, you think you've conquered the world.", you free your arm from his grip, "Come to the professor's cabin at 2 or else I'll skin you alive. Pathetic loser."

You walk away but Seungcheol has his head spinning. He doesn't get why he got slapped out of nowhere and why the hell would he submit your assignment in his name when he doesn't even know you.

Then the lightbulb in his head goes off.

He immediately corners Jiah.

"What have you done?", he asks angrily.

Jiah is sweating, when she had assured Seungcheol that she would take care of the assignment because he had to aid his father with some business work and would be out of the country for two weeks, she didn't foresee herself completely forgetting about it.

So when she saw a binder kept on a desk, she silently took it and attached Seungcheol's name and details on it, tearing away the original owner's details.

Confident that even if someone caught onto it, they would let it slide just to get on Seungcheol's good side, she never thought it would backfire so bad.

Hence, Seungcheol is currently standing in the professor's cabin admitting to the wrong, head hung low.

You stand straight, head high also glaring at the professor, "What if he had not admitted to doing it? You'd have my whole work credited to him. Next time if something like this happens under my watch, I'll report it to the committee."

The professor gulps nervously and you are walking out not sparing another second.

That's where it all begun. Him knowing your name from the professor and chasing you down to apologise. You unabashedly giving him lectures on authenticity and ethics whenever he approached you.

You frequently get to see him, coincidentally or not. Him trying to make small talks, you ending his approach with an one word answer and moving ahead.

"Are you stalking me?", comes your sudden question one day.

"No, but I do look forward to seeing you, talking to you.", comes his honest answer.

He notices, you also like to keep your circle small. You're seen everywhere with the same two people. Now it's your turn to be amused when one day Mingyu insists on bringing Seungcheol to the musical, the one in which you've contributed to the background score. You're left embarrassed when at the end of the show he yells your name and applauds the loudest because he is mesmerized. That night he treats the whole team to dinner.

"I think Seungcheol likes you.", Eunsoo tells you one day.

"The almighty Choi Seungcheol?", you are laughing, "Soo, I don't match his social status. Have you seen those plastic heiress chasing him? I had even slapped him infront of the whole campus."

"Look, we have become good friends but I do know he approached me because of you.", Mingyu admits, "He definitely likes you."

"Do you like him?", Eunsoo asks you.

"Why would I like him?", you ponder.

Wonwoo is an observer. And with his special skill he deducts that his friend must have had his heart taken.

"So who's the one?", he asks one night when they're both getting ready for bed.

"Who's who?", Seungcheol asks confused.

"The one you like."

"Am I that obvious?"

"Yes. Please it be anyone except for Jiah, I can't tolerate her. Anyways, I know it wouldn't be her...", then Wonwoo goes on about how he spends less time in the dorm room nowadays. How he's always wandering around in the campus which he never did before. How he's consistent in attending the same two specific lectures.

"It's Y/N.", he says shyly, hiding his face behind his palms.

"No wonder, you're a masochist.", Wonwoo lays down on bed, "You like the girl who slapped you."

Seungcheol gasps, utterly embarassed, "Stop blabbering nonsense!"

When he asks you out, instead of being taken out to a fancy restaurant as initially planned you request him to go on a movie date.

It took you five dates to make him know you.

"We don't belong to the same class, Seungcheol."

"I'm not looking for anything temporary, Seungcheol."

"I don't enjoy the luxuries, I'd rather achieve everything on my own, Cheol."

"I like to keep my circle small amd private. Nothing extravagant."

"I like you too but would you accept me after knowing all this?"

The response from him comes as strong as a whirlwind in the form a deep kiss. You might have been hesitant at start but he has always been sure.

Things have gotten better since your birthday. Seungcheol's hostility towards you has decreased and though you want to question him about this certain change, those take a backseat just to not lose what you have at this moment.

He snarks at you less. Listens if you have something to say. Checks upon you occassionally. Wears the attire you choose for him, you both have breakfast & dinner together. But you still sleep in separate rooms but after intimate nights he doesn't leave, rather sleeps in nowadays.

"You should never trust him.", says Chan from the other end.

"What if he's really changed?", you tell him, "Maybe he has finally got that all this revenge agenda is worthless if you can be with the person you love."

"Just ask him.", Chan insists, "You need to understand that being in denial would only hurt you so confront him."

"Okay, if you insist."

Wonwoo is suspicious of Seungcheol. He too like Chan isn't convinced that Seungcheol could change overnight. So he secretly keeps the tabs on him. The fact which disturbs him is Jiah is happy nowadays. If your relationship with Seungcheol improves then Jiah would be anything but happy which leaves him skeptical.

"Don't do anything you'd regret later.", he warns Seungcheol one day. The latter just shrugs off.

Seungcheol was escatic when he started first. It was fun for him to watch how you'd easily trust him. A piece of calk to make you a fool he thought.

He acts as a considering husband in front of you but schemes your downfall behind your back.

"One of those busy days?", he asks one day when he sees you returning from the academy late. It totally catches you off guard but that simple gesture makes you visibily beam as well which doesn't go unnoticed by your husband. He then proceeds to fake concern and show interest when you talk it out.

"How about we go to watch a movie?", he asks one night when you both finish having dinner.

"Will you be able to make time for that?", you ask concerned.

Next, he's grabbing your hand and dragging you out.

"We're in our pyjamas, we can't go out like this, Seungcheol!", you yell in panic when you get his motive.

He doesn't lend you an ear throughout the ride while he's driving you both to the theatre, having it entirely booked to his name.

You can't say much about the movie because Seungcheol's good at distracting you. His dirty whispers, lingering touches and sly looks lead to something unspeakable. Movie long forgotten you're basking in afterglow against your husband's bare chest, in his warm embrace.

"Remember when we were taken out of the theatre by the security after getting caught while making out?"

You laugh at the memory, "We did some real crazy things back then. I could never forget how you walked into the class only in underpants after loosing a bet to me."

Seungcheol response comes out as a scowl as he pinches your sides making you squeal.

You watch him for some moments in silence before mustering the courage and ask him, "Are you really willing to forgive me? Because after what I have done to you, I know it would take a lot more to forgive me."

Seungcheol freezes but gains his compusre quickly and lies through his teeth, "I pondered a lot upon it. You know my mom said the exact thing as you about marriages. So maybe it's a good idea to start anew."

"I-I promise I'll make it up to all the hurt and pain you've been in because of me. I'm so ashamed for treating you like that back then, wish I could take it all back.", your voice cracks, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes, "We'll be happy Seungcheol."

He doesn't believe you. But you do.

Then this goes on. He tries to slip into your life, your circle, your family casually so that when he hits later, the blow catastrophes you.

"I'm currently working on a piece.", you reveal to him one night, "And I'm planning to release the composition, it's midway.", a sigh escapes your lips as you snuggle closer in your husband's arms, "You're the first one to know."

Seungcheol mirrors your smile, pressing a feather kiss on your head, "I'm honoured. And I'm so proud of you.", he laughs when he says, "I wonder how Seungkwan's gonna react when he comes to know that he wasn't the first one to know."

"Oh God, he's gonna be a bitch about it.", you exclaim about it.

He surprises you with gifts, visits you in the academy and takes you to dates. All of it just to keep tabs on you, make you slip out crucial information about anything.

"When are you going to take her down?", Jiah ask impatiently, "You're unnecessarily stalling time."

"I do have gotten something crucial on her. But the more I dwell into this act, the more she'll be hurt.", Seungcheol assures, "Just do what you've been told to and don't act so obvious, specially around Wonwoo, I don't know why but he has been lately saying stuffs. Seems he has grown closer to Y/N and her circle."

Though he wasn't interested at all, but for the sake of fooling you again, he attends the competition you & Seungkwan had taken part in.

Though he would never admit, he was intrigued as he watched you perform again, the nostalgia had hit him hard. He still isn't sure if the loudest claps those came from him were just for eyewash or out of genuinity.

Though he didn't want to spend his birthday with you, somehow it ended up being the most memorable one. When you had wished him dot at midnight and gathered his family and beloved people for a private party where you played him a romantic piece which you had composed just for him as a birthday present, in front of everyone, he wonders if love laced aura radiating from you was real. He wonders if the swell in his chest was just not because of you.

Every time he thinks he's slipping, he reminds himself of the heart burns, the trauma and again he's back to his agenda.

There's a fine line between pretense and reality. And that line is starting to blur for Seungcheol. The worst part, he hasn't even realised it yet.

So when he makes time to visit your academy, he thinks he's acting out according to his plan. But he doesn't realise he goes there just to watch you teach.

He doesn't realise that when plans those dates he actually looks forward to spending time with you.

When you were down with fever, he took you to the doctor not to look good to you but out of genuine worry.

He now shares his bedroom with you. All your belongings have shifted from your room to his. He doesn't like it when he finds the other side of the empty in the mornings. He doesn't let you go if he catches you while you try to sneak off, he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

He knows about your schedules and nowadays he frees his schedule when you ask him to come and watch you perform. He anticipates your performance until you're on the stage, still claps the loudest and rushes to the backstage with a bouquet just to hug and tell how proud he is of you.

He doesn't fuck you and he might yet not be aware but makes love to you.

"Cherry!", he calls out one day when the two of you were goofing around and both of you freeze instantly. It was a name you both called each other when you both dated and were so in love. And now, that's what falls back to your lips. Like the good old days.

"You have changed.", Jiah says with disappointment, "Do you really not want revenge?"

"What rubbish.", Seungcheol laughs, "It's all just acting.", but the assertiveness in his voice fluctuates.

"So when are you gonna do the needful?", she raises her voice and Seungcheol glares at her.

"I'll decide when to do what.", he snarks, "Doesn't concern you, so stop being pushy."

And Jiah is sure that Seungcheol isn't determined anymore, that his feelings are resurfacing and interfering with the plan.

So she decides to take the matter into her hands once again, like she did years ago.

"Tell me you're joking.", Seungcheol laughs as his gaze sweeps at the faces, "Ok fine you guys got me. Good try."

There's an eerie silence clogging the room.

"Guys, I said y'all got me!", Seungcheol says this time a bit anxious, "You won! Now can we stop all this drama?"

You roll your eyes, as if unbothered, "There's no prank going on here. What I said was true."

You step closer to him, "I'll say it again so listen carefully. You were just a bet to me.", you say unapologetically, "Those guys", your index points at Mingyu and Eunsoo, "gave me a bet to make you, 'the enigmatic Choi Seungcheol'", a mocking laugh follows, "who nobody could bag yet", you're now objectifying him, "make fall in you love with me."

Seungcheol just listens. But he refuses to believe.

You are laughing again. Your hands grab his face moving it side to side, "I was so skeptical because you seemed scary. I mean you do have looks, money and power. But who could guess that you'd be so easy."

You circle around him, "All I had to do was create this image of aloof, private kind of girl and bam! you were circling around me like a puppy. I must admit, I was surprised at my own acting. Never made you have a doubt any second."

The first tear rolls down his cheek, when Seungcheol says, "Was none of it real for you, all the time we spent together?"

"Are you not getting it?", you ask annoyed, "No. None of it was real."

Seungcheol rushes to Mingyu and grabs his collar, "Gyu, please tell me it's all a lie. Just say it and I'd believe it in a blink."

Mingyu stays quiet, eyes lowered.

He then grabs Eunsoo, "Soo, I know you're the most rational one among us, so please please I'm begging you to tell. Tell me whatever she's telling is not true."

Eunsoo refuses to meet his gaze, she stays silent as well.

Seungcheol frees her and stands motionless for moments. He processes everything that he has heard since the moment he stepped into the room. He thinks over but he still doesn't want to believe.

Because he loves you to much to let you go. So he decides to be irrational just one time.

Seungcheol wipes the tears and walks upto you. When you look at him, your heart twists within your chest.

"Y/N", he looks at you so tenderly, "But none of it matters.", his hands travel up to caress your face, "Because all of it was true from my side. I love you, Y/N. Love you so much that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. It's you or no one.", he says so sincerely, "It was wrong to start off as a bet but I want to forget all this."

He then kneels on his knees, "Y/N, let's start this relationship afresh, on the right foot."

You panic because this was not you had expected. You had expected him to throw tantrum, say mean things, even slap you. But none of that happens.

"I don't love you, Seungcheol --"

"Then let me court you. Let me try my luck. Let's see if I could make you fall for me?", he's radiating so much love and grief that it suffocates all the three of you.

This won't do, you think, your plan is failing.

"I have been sleeping with people behind your back the whole time we dated.", you say unabashedly, "I have climbed beds and you never got to know."

Mingyu gasps, Eunsoo freezes at your words.

"It's okay", Seungcheol assures, "Because we weren't real. But now--"

"What makes you think I wouldn't do the same even after being an actual thing with you?", you scoff, "I might actually cheat on you this time. I would have you, your money, the luxuries. I might also see other people and like now, you'd never know.

Seungcheol feels like you've stabbed his heart and twisted the knife. There's an unfathomable bleeding.

"But you never used me, nor my money, none of the luxuries to get something. If you wanted, you could have, have it all.", he argues, "It might have started as an act but at some point it must have become real. Or why would you make me aware of this stupid bet if you didn't have feelings for me?"

"Stop being a sucker.", you snark at him, "It's not like you won't girls. Why are you acting like a loser when you know I don't, I won't reciprocate your feelings?"

Seungcheol gets up, with shaky hands and bloodshot eyes.

"Because even if you didn't, I have loved you honestly.", comes Seungcheol's response.

"I won the bet and lost interest in you.", you look at him condescendingly, "I felt bad for you, so right now I'm letting you know the truth. So just leave, forget about all this and carry on with your life. You were nothing but another notch on my bedpost. I would admit, I had fun. Thanks for that."

Seungcheol gets up and thinks about how he made a fool of himself. Thinks about how right he was about people taking advantage of him because of the baggage that comes with him. Thinks about how wrong it was of him to let his guard down.

"Well played, y'all.", he claps and chuckles bitterly with eyes pooling with tears, "Well played.", he then throws a glare at you which sends down a shiver down your & your friends' spine.

"Make sure to not cross paths with me again. Or I'll make you regret your existance."

And you made sure that's the last time he saw you.

"I have to be overseas for an important deal.", Seungcheol says laying back on his office chair, "It will be a one week trip and the connectivity is so bad, I'd probably lose touch with everyone while I'll be there."

You go over to his side and stand behind to rub his shoulders making your husband groan in relief, "Tell me about it, happens with Chan as well. When are you leaving?"

Seungcheol takes your hand and pulls you to make you sit on his lap when he says, "Month end. Y/N, I was thinking that...", he pauses to look at you before continuing, "If you could make some time and come with me. We didn't have our honeymoon yet so maybe we could make a good use of this trip."

You smile softly at him, "I'd love to but remember I had told you about working on a composition, it's release is set on by the month end."

"Oh right!", Seungcheol exclaims as he recollects, "God, I'm sorry it skipped my mind.", he instantly sullens, "But I don't think I'd be able to postpone this trip. I'm sorry I couldn't be there with you."

You peck his pouty lips and trace them with your thumb softly, "I can guess how important it would be, so don't worry. Anyways our first anniversary is coming as well, we can plan something later."

"Woah, we're getting through it?", Seungcheol laughs, "I can't believe, we made it."

"All because of you.", your mood shifts when you say, "Just because you had it in you to give me a second chance. That alone was enough."

"I had loved you back then", Seungcheol exhales sharply because of what he's going to say now. He smiles when he realises his feelings, realises that without hesitation he's ready to say it again. Gently holding your face he confesses, "I think I'm falling for you again."

You go absolutely stiff in his hold.

Seungcheol carefully searches your face for any signs of discomfort or uneasiness but he finds none.

"Am I dreaming?", you ask him animatedly, "Can you pinch me? No..", you shake your head, "Would you say it again?"

His eyes turn into crescent moons, as he flashes you the adorable teethy smile.

"I've fallen for you again.", he admits.

"I-I... Seungcheol.. I--", you stutter unable to wrap your mind around your husband's confession.

It was so hard to let you go. It killed to break your heart. Only if I could turn back time, only if I could tell how much I loved you as well.

The thoughts inside your head become louder making you so overwhelmed that now you are sobbing. It's uncontrollable and it makes Seungcheol have to rock you gently side to side while downing your face on his shoulder.

"I-I can't believe this is happening.", you don't face him, saying the words with your face still perched, while wrapping your arms around him tighter, "I love you so much, I know it'd be hard for you to believe but please just trust me on this."

Seungcheol doesn't speak, but he knows that he wants to believe you. Because love is about taking chances, so he might take it as well.

Once you calm down in his embrace, he watches you. He watches the gear in your head turning so he does what he could do to take your mind off of things.

He calls Wonwoo and says, "Don't let anyone into my cabin until you get another call from me. Also, don't connect anyone to the telecom."

Then he's flipping the phone somewhere and he gives you that one look which is enough to melt you into a puddle before his lips, tongue and hands start to work on your whole body.

"Congratulations!", Chan says hugging you, "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks for making time and coming to the event. Also, the inspiration comes from you all", you say pulling away, "Credit goes to you too."

"Bluff.", Seungkwan comes to pitch in, "The theme is love, then clearly inspiration must be someone named 'Choi Seungcheol'."

You roll eyes hitting him on the arm but laugh nonetheless.

"Look she isn't even denying!", Mingyu joins in to throw a banter, "But I must say you're okay compared to Eunsoo, she's hopeless."

Chan quirks brow at the statement and asks, "Am I missing something?"

You hook your arm into his, saying, "Eunsoo had an itty bitty crush on Wonwoo at uni days which gradually got away. But now that he's back and into our circle, looking like a four course meal according to her, she thinks her crush is relapsing."

"You make it sound like it's cancer.", Eunsoo finally quips in, "Anyways doesn't matter, there's no scope, I must move on. Good thing Seungcheol took Wonwoo with him, out of sight, out of mind."

"I miss my husband. He didn't even wanna leave for the trip to be with me.", you sigh, leaning on your brother's shoulder, "I can't even contact him. Three more days, ugh sounds like an eternity."

"Oh god, I might puke at the lovesickness.", Seungkwan fake gags, "Disgusting."

"It's good to see that you're happy.", Chan whispers just to you while others indulge in several topics to tease one another, "It's such a relief. I would like to talk to Seungcheol once he's back. If he really loves you and makes you feel like home then I'm ready to mend things as well."

You just nod and let the moment sink in. Your pupils dilate as you see the smiles on your friends' faces who have been there with you through thick and thin. Your mind lingers back the proud expression on your parents face. The heartiest congratulations that you received from your in-laws. You tilt your head to look at your brother who always has been your anchor, your biggest supporter. All of them have been present at the composition release event and now they are present at your home to extend the celebration. The parents take leave after sometime to let the peers have fun.

Your home, as you say it proudly now, a place you share with your loving husband, who has forgiven you for the scarred past and shares companionship with you.

Everything is falling back to place and you wish it stays the same. Your eyes fall heavy and you drift off.

The sleep must have been good because it's 10 in the morning when you wake up to see yourself tucked in sheets in your bedroom. The hall is empty and you immediately understand that your brother must have taken it upon himself to drive away your lovely but clingy-when-drunk friends from your house.

You try to call Seungcheol but as usual he's unreachable, so is Wonwoo, so is everyone who has gone to the trip. Dejected, you leave him a series of undelivered texts in hope it somehow reaches him and decide to take a bath which involves you to be away from your phone, just relaxing music and another round of sleep in the bathtub with your favourite bath bombs.

Not sure how long you've fallen asleep but you're woken up by loud voices from the other side of the door. Quickly freshening up you get ready as your phone keeps ringing or dinging because of notifications. Ignoring that you get out of your bedroom to find very distressed Chan and Seungkwan waiting for you.

"What happened guys?", you ask in concern.

Chan makes you sit and you see the two exchanging nervous glances which in turn makes you nervous as well.

"Y/N..", Seungkwan starts off, he exhales sharply and says, "Your work is being accused of plagiarism."

The ground beneath you slips. You look at Seungkwan and then at Chan.

Chan sounds pissed when he says, "Apparently a local artist has already released the composition five days ago, meaning four days before your release event."

You are panicking, shaking, tears are streaming down your face, "I-I didn't steal anyone's work. I-I have composed them, they're my work. Trust me guys, please..I--"

"We trust you, Y/N.", Seungkwan runs to you and rubs your arms, "I have been with you through it. I have seen it all."

"I was studying it with Kwan before coming here, everything is same. Every piece, every insertion, every note.", Chan says, "It looks like someone wholly copied your work.

Seungkwan sighs, "I feel so ashamed but all I can think of is somefrom the academy doing so."

"That's possible.", Chan asks, "But from what I know no one knew about this except you both. Even the event was announced just before a day or two to the people of academy."

Seungkwan asserts, "Everything was done remotely. Y/N do you recollect telling anyone else about this at any stage apart from Seungcheol?"

"Seungcheol knew?", Chan quips surprised and you are shaking your head.

"No. Leave him out of this, he wouldn't have done anything.", you warn your brother.

"I'm sorry Y/N, but I can't leave anyone out of this.", Chan says, "Someone is trying to harm you and I would see through the end of it. Be it anyone."

Eunsoo and Mingyu are stumbling upon while crossing the threshold. Seungkwan briefs them about what have been deducted till now and they decide to stick by your side while Chan and Seungkwan rushes out to the field to gather evidence and facts.

"I have already talked to my father.", Mingyu informs you, "He himself will aid with any legal advice. Don't worry everything will be sorted out."

"I had a talk with my mother. She also ensured that we'd broadcast only the solid proofs that pertains to the truth. We have faith in you, it'll get over soon.", Eunsoo ensures you, "Infact we have had our reporters dig in the matter as well."

Soon after your parents arrive followed by your in-laws. Your phone keeps ringing and no one allows you to hold it. Eventually, the device is turned off and kept somewhere, out of your reach.

Among all of the ominous thoughts involving losing your career, unable to pursue your passion anymore, being deemed as a thief, outcasted by the society and all others, the one that prevails is would Seungcheol believe you?

Two days go by and there's not much progress. You strike continuously as the most trending person on the internet, on news papers, in some tabloids boldly called out as a thief, the others focused more on why there's no statement from your own company or the Choi's themselves. The only thing that keeps you at bay is Seungcheol's return tomorrow.

You are flabbergasted at how can the two pieces of work be exact same unless someone copied it. You decide to visit the academy and search for any leads. Just as you are about to drive off your phone buzzes.

I have some information that would benefit you. Meet me at The Ritz at 11.

The text was from Jiah and you're instantly drawn to how Jiah could be the one involved in this.

"Let's skip the formalities.", Jiah smiles as she places some documents and an usb drive in front of you.

There's a laptop kept on the table, the screen displaying an audio ready to be played.

"Aren't you eager to know what's happening and why it's happening to you?", Jiah asks with a cunning smile which irks you.

"Stop wasting my time and reveal if you know something.", you snark back, "And don't think I'd believe a word you say without any proof because I don't trust you a bit."

"Seungcheol--"

"Don't you dare bring my husband into this, Jiah!"

Your heart shrinks because of the look Jiah gives you. No way your husband would be involved into all this, no way he'd go as far as to ruin your career.

"I have done it. I have paid a staff in your academy to steal your work, made it release before your event and hence you're being charged with plagiarism.", Jiah confesses and before you could charge her she drops the bomb, "Your husband, Choi Seungcheol is the mastermind behind it."

"I'll cut your tongue for speaking rubbish--"

"How do you think I knew about all this? Who else apart from Seungcheol knew about this?", Jiah asks. Her gaze falls on the laptop and she gestures you to play it.

"Y/N is working on a composition and is planning to release it sometime later. We should use this opportunity to bring her down."

The audio stops and you recognise the voice as your husband's. The jab hits hard, hard enough to make you loose your footing. Jiah is quick to hold you and make you sit on the chair.

"Have a look at these papers."

Your hands are shaky when you pick up the papers. You freeze on reading the heading. Your hands fall to the sides once you finish reading it whole. Those bunch of papers were about transferring your shares of the academy under the Choi's name.

Jiah doesn't give you time to settle as she plays another recording.

"Are the papers ready? What will happen if I take her lifeline away from her?"

"When are you going to take her down? You're unnecessarily stalling time."

"The more I dwell into this act, the more she'll be hurt. Just do what you've been told to and don't act so obvious, specially around Wonwoo, I don't know why but he has been lately saying stuffs. Seems he has grown closer to Y/N and her circle."

You sit there motionless. The person you considered your world was the one planning to stab you.

"You can get these recordings examined.", Jiah tells you, "To be sure that I haven't manipulated or tampered with the recordings."

She takes a sit beside you and observes you carefully. The triumphant smile that graces her lips on seeing you getting trampled, makes her believe that now's the time when she could spew any lies and you'd believe it. She knows she has won over.

"The plan was to take advantage of your helplessness and make you transfer the shares in the disguise of helping you clearing your name.", Jiah leans in closer to your face, "Why do you think Seungcheol is out of country out of all the time? He's trying to build up the urgency so that as soon as he walks in you'd be at his feet asking for help."

Jiah has accepted that she would never have Seungcheol to herself, so not at fear of loosing anything she's going all out as for to separate you two.

"The Choi's are so powerful that no matter how much you try, there's no way you could prove your innocence.", Jiah says as her sinisteric gaze falls on you again, "You can take all these proofs, additionally, I'll even provide the details pertaining to the person who stole your work and make them confess."

"W-Why are you helping me?"

"Either way it breaks you two apart and that's the motive. Knowing the truth would hurt you the most."

Her heels clank loudly as she walks out, leaving you behind, defeated and devastated.

How foolish of you to believe that Seungcheol would forgive you easily? How naive of you that you fell for his act of a doting husband.

You wonder if this is how he had felt after being betrayed by you. You run your hands over your chest to soothe the ache. You scream, throw down anything you could grab, stomp over the place but nothing helps you in calming down.

Three hours have passed and you're still in that damned conference room. Scathed, scrotched and scattered.

You inhale, exhale and repeat. Then you're calling your brother.

"Chan, arrange for a press conference tomorrow evening. Also stop looking further into the case. I have evidence to prove that I'm innocent.", you say into the phone, "Gather everyone at the academy, none of the Choi's though. Ask Eunsoo if they would broadcast it on their network. Tell Mingyu to have Mr. Kim free some time for me this week if possible. Make the checks now, we can't delay it further."

Seungcheol's boarding the plane back home when he comes to know of the situation. He feels sick to stomach when all that's happening feels too known to him. Though he might have wanted this to happen once but now he can't even fantom the thought of doing something so viscious to you.

He calls you but you don't pick up. He calls others, makes Wonwoo call them too but it's fruitless.

He's anxious throughout the way, worried sick, feels guilty for not being by your side when you're going through so much. He hopes you're not beating your much, wants to hold, wants to assure you that everything will be fine, that you have him.

Wonwoo is running through all the red lights equally anxious. He wants to go inside and check upon you but he steps aside as he watches Seungcheol rushing into the house, hoping you'll be okay.

Seungcheol rustles through the corridor and slam opens the door, hurriedly making a sprint inside the house.

It's afternoon but the house, entire hallway is dimly lit. Suddenly the lights go on and he spots you.

Something about you is different, it's almost eerie. The black dress you're wearing, the cold gaze your throwing is unsettling.

"Baby--", you hold out your hand when Seungcheol starts to walk towards you.

Seungcheol halts, he feels the grimness in your aura.

"Welcome back, Seungcheol. I have been waiting for you.", you say apathetically, "Take a seat, I have some things to discuss with you, before I leave for the press conference."

That's when Seungcheol notices your finger void of the wedding ring.

→ Do not copy, re-post, translate, or share any of my works on other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, joonsytip. ©️

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doobea · 9 months

Text

I CAN MAKE YOUR BED ROCK - RIN ITOSHI

synopsis: You're a famous online smut author, married to an international superstar athlete, and everyone around you thinks you have the perfect sex life. What they don't realize is Rin sleeps in the guest room and you're still very much a virgin.

contents: fem!reader, explicit content (fingering, fondling, heavy petting, public indecency, and makeout sessions), suggestive themes, mainly written in rin's pov, characters are all in their mid/late-20s, his teammates are just trying to help (not really), romcom, he has a therapist!!, idk probably secondhand embarrassment, mutual pinning and they are both awk, mdni word count: 3K a/n: tbh i actually have no idea how to write smut scenes so apologies in advance ps due to popular demand... there IS a taglist below haha just comment on the fic if you want to be added to the next batch c:

二 : Baby, wanna spend it all on you -> prev. ->next.

When Rin thought about his life after college, he'd imagine things a certain way. He'd expected to move abroad, a new city, a new life. He'd expected to play alongside his older brother and for a football team of a different caliber, offering different techniques and skill levels that would promote a challenge to him.

What he didn’t expect was staying in Japan, getting married by the age of 24, playing alongside his teammates from the Blue Lock academy, and representing his nation in the upcoming world cup. It wasn't bad by his standards, just not ideal - more so over the team rather than the location and marriage, surprisingly. He's currently stuck with the same teammates that love to tease him endlessly. But a voice in his head tells him that they're probably the only people who could mesh well with his play style; so he tolerates them.

Here's what Rin Itoshi's teammates know about him: he's married to a famous author, he's fluent in English, he's the most Virgo man out there, he always keeps his phone on 'Do Not Disturb', and his favorite movie is The Shining.

And here's what they don't know about him: he's in an arranged marriage, he's madly in love with you so much to the point where he has all your favorite food orders listed in his notes app, he carries around a physical signed copy of one of your novels at all times (you have no clue and he's never going to tell you), and he's a virgin.

Shocker!

Not many people could crack Rin and not many try. The football player had a reputation for being anti-social, rude, and extremely blunt. But Isagi Yoichi is not like many people. Being one of his long-time teammates (friend - Isagi would like to correct him from time to time), he would always find a way to make Rin slip up more details about his 'top-secret' life. It wouldn't always work and often times the conversation will end with Rin kicking a ball to his head - ouch.

But today felt different, Rin had noticed the shorter male peering at him with mischief laced in his eyes when he had walked onto the training grounds early morning. Rin was prepared to kick the ball extra hard this time around.

"What genre does your wife usually write?" Isagi asks nonchalantly as he begins routine stretches on the turf.

"Why does that matter to you?" Rin bites back while doing his own sets of warm-ups next to him.

Isagi is unfazed and continues, "I've been trying to find something new to read nowadays. It's hard to find good books!"

Sarcasm, Rin notices.

"Even if you did read her books, I highly doubt you'd understand the words."

"Pfft, what does she write physics textbooks or something?"

Before Rin could even insult back, he hears a loud bang from the locker room and one of his teammates running out. Karasu jogs to the field and Rin feels all the color wash off his face. In Karasu's hands held the physical copy of your best-selling novel, 'Pleasure Master Prejudice', the book that Rin always carries in his sports bag.

Suddenly, Rin wants to take back all the harsh insults he's said to his team's face. He starts praying, half expecting the football player to run towards him with flowers instead of your dirtiest erotica story known to man, he will repent all of his sins in this moment.

"Yo," Karasu smirks and waves the book around for everyone else to see, "check out what I found on the locker room floor!"

Rin makes a mental note that he is definitely going to schedule an emergency call with his therapist later.

Otoya is first to make a beeline toward the taller player, immediately snatching the book from his hands and flipping through the pages. "Holy shit, this is nasty!"

"Wait let me see–"

Rin blinks in disbelief as he watches his team of fully grown men scramble to the center of the field, all of them attempting to read out loud the pages and giggling like little schoolgirls. At this point, Rin thinks that the higher beings are out to get him.

"Gross! Gross!" Ranze chokes at the print.

"Guys, what the fuck is a vulva?" Igarashi screeches.

"Read this one, Reo." Nagi eagerly points to a paragraph on the bookmarked page and everyone laughs.

Reo suppresses his laughter and clears his throat, "He spreads my dripping cunt wide with his slender digits, eyes keeping in lock with mine as he hovers over my voluptuous ti–"

"Can you guys fucking stop?!"

All turn to face their redden-faced striker, surprised by the volume coming from his usual monotone voice. Rin is also surprised himself. A pregnant silence falls over the team followed by the sounds of the book cover closing.

"Was that yours?" Isagi finally says.

He can't find the energy or space to punt a dozen footballs in everyone's face so today, safe to say, Rin leaves practice early.

"What brings you in today?" Anri adjusts her glasses and steadies her clipboard in her lap before looking into the camera. "It must've been pretty serious for you to call me last minute."

The football player sinks into the living room couch and tilts the laptop screen back to avoid looking at his agitated expression. He usually schedules weekly therapy sessions every Monday to decompress from his work stress and improve his social anxiety, but today is Friday and he needed Anri to hear him out. He's thankful that her schedule turned out to be flexible last minute and equally as glad that you were currently out drafting another story at a nearby cafe.

"I think I need to move out of the country or just disappear for good." He groans into his hands.

"Rin," She says with a controlled tone, "what triggered this event? Tell me how you're feeling right now."

He bites his lips, "My team knows that I read erotica." Rin shyly admits.

Anri hums on the screen, scribbling her thoughts down on the notepad, "And how does that make you feel?" She repeats.

Embarrassed? Ashamed? He didn't know where to start. He can handle the flack from his teammates tomorrow as cringe as it was today but the main reason why he feels the way he does is–

"It reminds me how I'm being physically avoidant in my marriage."

"Ah," Anri beams as if she's found gold, and Rin hears her flipping through her notepad, "are you two still talking? How long has it been since that incident?"

"A week. I'm still not sure what inclined her to go into my room since we usually keep things separate. We both chose to not talk about it and things have more or less gone back to normal."

"But is that what you want?"

"No," He removes his hands and glances at a framed wedding portrait above the fireplace, "but I'm not sure how to initiate anything with my wife. She doesn't know that I read her stories and I'm not sure if she picks up that I'm inexperienced."

"Do you think reading her published works will help you gain confidence in how you approach her?"

Rin hums in deep thought. He only started reading your novels and short stories around eight months back out of curiosity on a slow practice day. When you guys initially got together, he never really asked about your background due to his ignorance of 'she's probably just another YA novelist'. So, when he typed in your alias into the search bar, he was absolutely taken aback by how lewd and explicit everything was. He felt a sense of insecurity knowing that you've probably had most of these acts done to you (how else were you able to write a detailed bondage scenario) and he couldn't live up to that nor see your evident disappointment if you ever find out that you're his first everything.

"Not sure." Rin answers.

Anri flashes the male a pondering look in her eyes before deciding to leave the lingering topic for their Monday session. They briefly exchange their goodbyes, ending the call with her advice of 'trying to approach things in her shoes', Rin isn't exactly sure what Anri meant by that.

A light buzz comes from the coffee table and he sees your contact flash in his notifications. He sometimes feels like you're taunting him with your comedic timings.

my love hey babe if you're free later do you wanna come shopping with me?

It's already been one hell of a day, why not relax in some retail therapy with your wife? Maybe he can try to attempt whatever Anri was suggesting.

When you told him to meet you at the new corner store located next to a ceramics store, Rin was half expecting it to be another bookstore or beauty outlet. Never in a million years would he have predicted that you brought him to a sex shop of all places.

The boutique is painted in blotches of purple and black circles with two towering rose bushes on either side. Grey mannequins are on display by the arched windows facing the street and they are covered from head to toe in a series of lace, leather, and chain underwear sets. And he spots you, already inside the store staring intensely at your phone with your tote bag in hand before locking eyes and sending over a coy smile.

Rin has been in many unpredictable and hard situations, in football of course, but he couldn't see where this outcome might lead. He finds the strength to wave back after gawking for who knows how long, unaware of his sweat-covered palms, and steps inside a world he's alarmingly unaware of.

"Did you wait long?" He manages to remain composed and refuses to look anywhere else but your face.

"Nope," You reach out to interlock your fingers with his, "I just got here a minute ago. How was practice?"

Rin can't help but roll his eyes, "Wasn't the best, let's talk about something else?" And you nod. "Did you need anything from here, hon?"

"Ah, well..." You scratch your flushed cheeks in thought before nudging him towards the floral pattern-laced body suits in the corner. "I want to incorporate something similar in my writings but I want a personal opinion of them first."

Suddenly, Anri's words pop up in his mind again. How could he see himself in your shoes and what should his response be? Was this strictly for your work or is there a hidden meaning behind it, he thinks to himself. Before he could provide you an answer, a male sales associate interrupts.

"That's a wonderful choice, miss!" The blond male's voice booms through the store’s walls as he struts his way over, wearing a pair of obnoxiously shiny brown loafers, tight black leather pants a size too small, and a white collared shirt with the first two buttons popped open, exposing just a bit of chest hair, "Our Forget-Me-Not Floral collection is seasonal right now and it's been a fan favorite since release!"

“Oh!” Your eyes sparkle at the fact, “May I try a few on?”

Rin feels oddly annoyed, and it's a different type of annoyance compared to Isagi and the rest of his team. He subconsciously tightens the grip around your hand but doesn’t say anything.

The male nods vigorously and shuffles through the drawers, quickly selecting the most revealing ones that the collection has to offer. There was hardly any coverage other than thin white straps and embroidered flowers barely covering where the breasts and vagina would be. Why is this boutique charging so much for something that covers so little? But for some reason, you didn’t seem to mind and happily took the associate’s suggestions.

“Plenty of people like to get the nightgown version, but these are my personal favorites.”

“Thank you so much um—”

The male winks, “Chris Prince.”

And Rin thinks to himself, what an obnoxious name for an obnoxious guy.

You swiftly march yourself to the dressing room with the items in hand, assuring Rin that it’ll only be a short while, and he takes a seat on their small ottoman right outside. He feels Chris’ gaze burn at the back of his head but he pays no mind to it - Rin didn't want to cause headlines tomorrow on top of the series of unfortunate events for today. So, to busy himself, he pulls out his phone and texts you instead.

Rin "Everything alright?" my love "Yes! Getting it on is a bit challenging, trying to figure that out rn haha" Rin "I’m sure it’ll look fine regardless how you wear it" my love "Thanks, Rin :) "

Another notification comes through making Rin frown immediately as he recognizes the name of the sender.

shithead "We’re still cool?" Rin "Fuck off, Isagi." shithead "Lol glad to hear that. See you at practice tomorrow then?" Rin "Sleep with one eye open tonight."

“Hey, honey?” Your voice calls out in the distance, “Could you help me with something real quick?”

He isn't sure what's more revealing - the fact that you're practically almost naked with just lines of sheer fabric barely covering anything up or the face he's making right now. You seem to catch on to his discomfort and quickly hug the front part of your body with your shirt, mumbling an apology afterward. He rushes to close the dressing room curtains, hoping the weird sales associate isn't listening in.

"I can't get the neck part to look right..." You turn around slowly, exposing your bare back and bottom. He thinks you should've worn a hospital gown because this might be too much for his little innocent heart to handle.

Rin feels a lump forming in his throat and knots churning in his stomach while trying to take everything in. He couldn't help his wandering eyes and stood there for a bit, simply admiring what was in front of him. "You look amazing." And it comes out breathier than what he wanted it to.

This is the first time he's seen you almost naked and, the fact it's in a lingerie store, makes him feel terrible as a partner. This brings him back to Anri's wise words from today's session and the past eight months of solid 'research' he's conducted.

Your body flinches at the touch of his slender fingers reaching for the two strands dangling around your neck that were failing to support your breasts. You feel your face reaching concerning levels of warmth as Rin moves closer, his chest practically pressing up from behind, whispering that he needed to get this knot just right. Your eyes go wide when you peer into the mirror, catching Rin's sudden sharp expression and you could've sworn his eyes went dark.

"Is this okay?" His hands rest on your shoulders and looks into the reflection with you, appreciating the finalized look. You gently drop the t-shirt to the floor, mouth agape. The sheer, embroidered cups now fit your breasts perfectly and the bottoms are snug against your lower half but still breathable. The lace hugged and accentuated your curves just right without it being too over the top.

Suddenly, you feel painfully small in his presence.

"Y-Yeah, thanks."

Rin hums in contentment before placing shyly his hands on either side of your hips, "Is this also okay?" He drawls, breath hitting against your ears.

You merely nod in response, having a loss for words at the sudden boldness, and melt into your husband's touch. You screw your eyes shut as his hands sweep lower, fingertips brushing the fabric of the bodysuit and barely skimming your exposed thighs. He stops over where your lower region resides and presses gently against it.

"Rin," It comes out as a whisper.

He kisses your temple and smiles against your skin, "Try and be quiet, my love."

Rin's fingers continue to press against your mound with increasing intensity and you struggle to hold back any form of reaction. His other hand travels from your hips to your breast, giving it a small squeeze.

"They're so soft." He continues to grope, playing with your nipple through the lace fabric, and you feel as if your head is filled to the brim with static.

You find yourself grinding against his fingers, trembling and panting out the quietest of moans you can. "Please." It sounds ragged and raw to Rin's ears.

He tilts your head back by the jaw and sloppily pushes his tongue down your throat. Your desperate hands immediately reach for his hair and the other down to feel for his aching length growing against his pants.

"Grind against it." Rin grits through his teeth, fluttering his eyes shut as you did what he's told and he feels like his body is burning alive.

Rin ravages your lips once more and, feeling a surge of confidence, he slides the bottom of the bodysuit to one side, allowing his digits to fully feel the extent of his work. You moan loudly into his mouth, tears of pleasure forming at the corners of your eyes. He takes that as permission to enter into your folds and the texture and scent emitting from it is addicting to his senses.

"You're so wet."

"It's because of you."

His lips find their way to your shoulders and his hand on your chest grip tight against your now trembling figure as he rapidly pumps in and out of your folds. Your hands clamp over your mouth as a burning sensation tightly builds up.

"It's okay," He murmurs, "you don't have to hold back."

And just at the right angle, you watch as fireworks explode right in front of you. Your mind rewires itself slowly and suddenly everything is over-stimulating. Everything is either too bright or not bright enough. You've become hyperaware of the mesh material against your hot, sweaty skin and the sounds of poorly curated indie music that played in the background. You couldn't recognize yourself in the mirror.

Rin groans at your mess and slips out his fingers with a loud pop before setting your fatigued body against his.

"I think your readers will like it."

TAGLIST

@wtfsaekyuny , @jukey , @broeagleblog , @freakingdinonuggies , @damutaaa , @idk-bro-gay , @saharei , @yesurmajesty , @vvi-site , @saeswifeeee , @marilover69 , @izayumi-chan , @whostakara , @talleythesimp , @short-black-diamond

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fastcardotmp3 · 1 year

Text

Eddie Munson does do the whole rock star thing, but it doesn't quite go the way it did in the daydreams of a sixteen-year-old kid trying to stay awake in school.

He leaves Hawkins after the world doesn't end, gets himself out there, takes all the hurt and fear and fucked up shit and puts it into a handful of good enough songs to get himself signed.

It's not quite the genre he grew up with, not quite something any of his idols might have played, but only because it is so entirely Eddie, so influenced by where he's been and what he's seen that it kind of doesn't fit one specific influence.

It's new and it's good, is the point. Really good. And he skyrockets fast enough to give himself the spins.

He's recognizable and then he's famous and then he's too famous and too young to know what to do with it and too far from home and everyone he loves to really cope with it and it's just.

Eddie isn't built for it. Eddie hasn't even processed the fact that he was maybe supposed to die in that place, or the fact that he did watch people better than him actually die, but he's out here shooting to the top of the charts and being called the next big thing and it's too much.

It's just enough, at the end of it all, for him to self-sabotage his way out of being more than a one-hit wonder.

One big hit, a contract broken by the guys at the top with the fancy lawyers because Eddie has become the too much thing, just like always, and it's over as quick as it started.

He disappears, becomes one of those whatever happened to him? he was supposed to be the next big thing? stories that travel by word of mouth and then fade with the shift in conversation.

So what does happen to Eddie Munson?

He falls hard, he hits rock bottom, he crawls his way home to an uncle who deserved for Eddie to really make it, make him proud, have him financially set for life and get him into a real house with two stories and a garage to park the truck in, maybe even a yard for a dog.

He spirals and isolates and falls apart and stops letting himself make music at all and makes some personal choices that will probably have lasting effects on him for the rest of his life and then somewhere along the line a girl with hair like tangerines and terrible aim manages to smack him with her cane and says if I learned to walk again, so can you, asshole.

There are people in his life again after that, a reason to get out of bed and realize that he can make Wayne proud in more ways than the one he'd already fucked straight to hell.

Eddie watches a bunch of kids graduate high school and then he packs up and chases down some people who pulled him out of hell once before up in Chicago, crashes on Steve and Robin's couch until he gets himself a job painting houses and they can afford three bedrooms instead of just the two.

He cuts his hair, not short but shorter, and he gets more tattoos and itches for the guitar that sits in a case under his bed, ignores it. Itches for the pen in his hand, ignores that too.

He's still barely past his mid-20s and he still has some fucking around left to get out of his system, some finding out to accomplish doubly so, but he learns as he goes no matter whether it's forwards or backwards.

He falls in love and falls out of it, gets fired from jobs and tracks down new ones, gets into fights with his friends because they're all a little fucked up and codependent and weird but makes up with them for the same reasons.

The thing with Steve happens slowly, going from tolerating each other for the sake of knowing they'll always be on the same team to genuinely liking each other to discovering a care between the two of them that's a bit too strong to be normal about even if it still takes them a half-dozen so-called turning points to really name it and take it and keep it.

Eddie's 33 when they buy a condo together on the outskirts of Chicago two weeks after they fall into bed with each other for the first time, and he's over a decade on from being a kid who rose to the top too fast but it doesn't feel dissimilar, that sensation of a too-good thing that's bound to go wrong.

Only this time he doesn't try to sabotage it, tries the opposite, tries to hold it tightly in ways that would probably be too tight for anyone other than Steve Harrington with all his deeply intense feelings and inability to love at anything other than an eleven.

It's in the move that Steve finds a box of notebooks, snoops because it's who he is, and finds years worth of words that never made it past the tip of a pen but did, eventually, make it that far.

And it's not an easy thing, convincing Eddie that they're words worth sharing, because Eddie doesn't want it to be an easy thing. He can't let kind words shoved into his orbit by a beautiful man be enough to make it feel worth it, can't see a world where sharing his art doesn't end in another great big self-induced mess that he can't let happen when he's finally found something good.

He doesn't want to go on tour and get screamed at on stage and, besides, he's pretty sure the rest of the world doesn't want to scream for him anymore either, but then Steve has to go and remind him--

"You don't have to be the face of it. You can just be the words; you are so fucking good at being the words, Ed."

Which still isn't quite enough to be convincing, but it's a start in a solid six months of the words coming easier now that he has someone to share them with, someone to listen as Eddie plucks away at a guitar that sits out in the open now, free of dust.

It stops feeling like something shameful to hide, his music, and the thing is? It doesn't feel how it did back then either.

It's not an escape or a purge of violent energy or a distraction from everything he didn't know how to think about. Sure, it takes all of that into consideration because it takes the whole of Eddie into consideration, but more than anything it's just fun.

Like he's thirteen and still learning how to play the guitar, like it's just a hobby that never has to go anywhere, like it's just art that maybe deserves to be heard.

Everyone pitches in on ideas when they find out he's trying to come up with a pseudonym, and it's goofy and supportive and kind of the final straw in reaching out to old, burned bridges to see about any new artists looking for equally new tunes.

The first time Eddie and Steve catch familiar lyrics being sung by a new hotshot band on the radio, Eddie cries not because he's jealous or disappointed, but because it feels right.

He doesn't like being up in front of the crowds, had only ever walked across tables and made himself big and scary and loud out of self preservation, would always rather his biggest performances be for the people he knows really care.. Besides, after everything he's survived he's learned, albeit slowly, that he really likes the freedom of the quiet.

This way he still gets to say what he has to say, gets to throw his hat into the ring of an artform that he loves without selling his soul to a machine that tried to eat him alive (trust him. he knows what that feels like.)

Of course, someone is going to put 2 and 2 together eventually, the industry isn't as big as it looks and pseudonyms only pull so much weight when you went out in such a spectacularly messy and memorable fashion, but Eddie's got his condo in Chicago.

He's got the guy he shares it with in his bed.

He's got two cats and a windowsill full of plants he's going to keep alive this time, Steve, just you watch.

He's got his uncle settled in Indy these days, a small place with a small yard.

He's got music, too. Turns out even his own tendency to self-destruct couldn't take that away, huh?

It's what got him out of hell alive, after all.

#dot post #dot fic #eddie munson #steddie #one hit wonder eddie has lived rent free in my head for too long you guys have to join me in this before I lose my mind to it #rockstar!eddie #writer!eddie

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cultofsappho · 10 months

Note

Ive come to the realization that the reason theres a small but loud group of people who are showing nothing but hate for the rwrb movie is because they have completely unrealistic expectations. People are forgetting that this is a cheesy romantic comedy, thats supposed to look and feel like a cheesy romantic comedy. This isnt going to be moonlight or gods own country or some other critically acclaimed, oscar nomintaed queer film that makes straight people go "hmm maybe they do deserve rights and respect🤷‍♀️"

Its gonna be a cheesy adult romantic comedy, thats gonna be a bit camp and over the top and thats exactly why its so good. I dont want to think about every gay movie I watch. I want to watch it and see two queer people fall in love and thats it. Thats how deep it goes. Maybe a sprinkling of politcal commentary in between.

There is this issue thats become bigger and bigger every passing year, that people expect every bit of queer representation to be the best thing ever. There can not ever be anything cringey or different or silly, and if it is then they send endless hate towards it, and in an industry that already hates to show queer people on screen, its this viscious cycle of someone finally being greenlit to make queer media, the media gets endless hate for not being perfect, the studio cancels the queer media before giving it a chance because theyve just 'proven that it wont make money', suddenly everyone is saying 'why do they keep canceling queer media😢', cycle repeats.

Im so over it. Let gay people be slightly cringy or cheesy or campy. Let queer media exist without putting it on this huge pedestal. Just enjoy things! And if you dont, dont watch it! Move on, find something better to do.

Yes!!! Thank you so much anon for putting this feeling into words much better than I could have!

"I dont want to think about every gay movie I watch."

Thank you.

I want light-hearted rom coms about queer adults just being queer adults and havig fun. I want comedy adventures where the characters just happen to be gay. I want more horror where at the end the final girl kisses a girl and can't belive they lived but not because they're gay. (suprisingly several of these exist and I love it)

I don't always want to think about the plight and horrors of being queer today with every queer movie I watch.

Sometimes, yes of course, I want to be seen on that level.

(Nimona, which came this weekend is a perfect example of a queer movie where I felt very very seen but also had a good time and was an incredibly silly fantasy adventure movie. But, still had the queer expereince intertwined.)

I'm looking forward to a movie that will be 90% rom com, and 10% realism/heavyness. re: being outed is a real thing that happens to people. famous people.

Alex and Henry go through some heavy shit. There's seriously traumatizing stuff at the end of the book. They're both dealing with mental illnesses, complex families, and rock-or-a-hard-place situations. I want all of that honored.

And, at the same time, I'm expecting a straight-to-streaming, mid-budget, movie that had to pass through a LOT of straight hands and board meetings to get to us.

Not to say we should love and accept every queer movie that comes out automatically, they have been done wrong in the past. (example: I skipped call me by your name bc the age gap still makes me too uncomfortable to watch)

But we have to give queer movies a chance to fit the genre they were made for, the tone they are made to be, and give queer creators a chance to show they are us annd they know us. The director is Bi. He's spent so much time going on about how much he related to Alex that he needed to make this movie. It's his first directing role, and I'm giving him a chance.

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #mostly unrelated but I also saw a bunch of gay men on twitter screaming about how rwrb isn't *for* lesbians #and that we 'shouldnt be allowed to have it'#which is fucking wild!#and they somehow manged to work in the fact taht the author is NB into their argument???#it was madness #but another example just how much vitriol is surrounding this fanbase #its completely insane if you think that Alex and Henry would gate keep their story to just queer men.#or that cmq would want that either

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neet-elite · 6 months

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Shower Down — (SDV) Sam

Pairing: Sam / Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 4,089 Warnings: Breeding, creampie, shower sex, established relationship, cervix fucking Synopsis: In hindsight, he probably should have dealt with his… Issue before even thinking about starting his morning routine.

A/N: Crossposting this from my AO3. I wont be reposting every fic, but the most "recent" that seem to be popular. For my full catalogue then find my AO3 account in my pinned.

In hindsight, he probably should have dealt with his… Issue before even thinking about starting his morning routine. It’s a regular occurrence, after all. Daily, even, like the hormonal teenager he is at heart. He should have known better than to simply waltz in to your bathroom without a second thought, but after helping you work the farm pretty much all day yesterday, he still feels too beat to even think properly at such an early hour. He doesn’t even know what time it is, only that the mornings sun is too bright to stay resting. The soft sounds of running water should have at least alerted him to your presence, but instead he merely followed his set in stone routine and allowed his body to shuffle sleepily to the bathroom. Quiet steps, yawning as he opened the door into your bathroom with only the intent of brushing his teeth and showering— as one always should upon waking up, and yet even still he fails to notice your presence. How exactly he isn’t sure, but he’ll find a way to blame you for it regardless. He at least gets half way done before seemingly coming to, mid brush when he realizes just exactly what he’s walked into. Not that he’s one for complaining, and certainly not given the circumstances he finds himself currently in, but it genuinely startles him to see you staring right at him through the mirror reflection.

“Oh, shit!” he stumbles, muffled a little by the brush in his mouth as toothpaste dribbles from his lips. You simply glance back at him, a playful little smile on your lips that only causes his cock to throb harder at how casual you look. Morning wood, of course, made only worse by seeing his pretty girlfriend stand naked behind him. And yet even with the shock that comes from seeing you so naked so early in the morning, so much so that he struggles to find words following his cursing, he can’t bring himself to look away. Wouldn’t even if he could, honestly. What a pretty sight to greet him first thing in the morning, his gaze on you softening the more his brain catches up to reality. The domesticity of sharing such a small space together tragically going right to his already hard cock rather than his heart, but he figures you don’t mind given the remaining knowing smile on your face.

It’s certainly not the first time he’s seen you naked, though if he’s honest, every time sort of feels like the first, still. You’re his pretty baby, so of course he can’t take his eyes off you, even when intruding in your private morning shower time. His perverted tendencies taking advantage of his low willpower and gluing his attention to the way you seem to sway side to side before him, his cock clearly poking in a tent as a reward in return. Though the relationship certainly isn’t in the early stages, it’s still difficult for him to find the self control to act decently around you. Simply put, he wants you. Perhaps far too much given how rock hard his cock is from just the frosted view of your naked body, teeth brushing stopped momentarily to instead look at you with awe. No attempt made to avert his gaze, his dumb stare raking over you from head to toe and then back up again, catching only glimpses of your soaked… naked body. Saliva drooling with toothpaste to stain his chin at the sight of you in the shower, his palm absentmindedly tugging at his equally dribbling tip to satisfy his early hour urges. God, he thinks you’re so gorgeous. Water dripping from your hair as you look back at him with amusement, clearly spotting him far before he took notice of your own presence. Even then, it only makes his cock harder. Knowing that despite his accidental intrusion you chose to keep yourself hidden, waiting behind the safety of your glass shower for him to discover. Fat beads of precum decorating his stretched thin boxer shorts at the sight of your lazy smile, his own lips tugging into a similar one before re-realising that he’s still holding his toothbrush, toying with his cock in front of you with his other hand while he offers you a sleazy look.

“S-Sorry!” He continues brushing, finishing up as fast as possible so that he can bring his full attention back to you, his baby. His pretty, naked, baby. “Fuck,” he spits, running his toothbrush under the tap only to throw it back where it belongs, snapping his head back to you with his cock pointing directly at you. It’s a wonder how his boxers even stay on with how hard he is, his tip leaking precum through the fabric while you slowly spin for him to show off, giggling so cutely that he can’t help but gasp a little. Truly, he’s mesmerized. Feet stubbornly stuck in place by your bathroom sink while his cock twitches and leaks all for you, straining demandingly against his barely there boxers in an effort to highlight his need for you, but whether you notice or not doesn’t matter. Not with the teasing smirk you offer in return, his throat dry despite just brushing while he wipes at his lips. “Didn’t mean to— Promise, I didn’t mean t’walk in on ya.” He sighs, his tummy flipping and cheeks blushed when you give a knowing laugh back in response. “I mean it! I jus’—” his words are cut off as you push your body up against the glass, nipples on clear display for him to salivate at. It takes him a moment to realize whats going on, but when he does, he’s unable to stop the cocky laugh that escapes his chest. Oh, so that’s how you wanna play things? Flirting with him behind the glass pane, do you think you’re safe there? Not a chance. A sneaky smirk plastered on his face as he quickly as humanely possible removes his clothes, cock slapping against his toned tummy to cause him to hiss at the contact in his rush to undress, chest tight with love and balls taut with seed while he stumbles over himself. Because for as much as his trespassing was a genuine mistake, it seems you don’t mind in the slightest, and he’d be a fool to not take advantage of the opportunity you’re presenting him. How could he not when you practically beckon him forward with your squished to the glass tits, the soapy water running off you so prettily that for a moment it seems impossible for him to move— instead stuck staring stupidly at you with an open mouth. Fuck, he’s so lucky. Seeing you first thing in the morning is like a dream come true, and that much seems especially accurate with how flirty you’re acting, lust pooling in his tummy to prove a far bigger issue than just some plain old morning wood.

And so he takes a few steps forward in your small bathroom to reach your even smaller shower, biting down on his lip to control the excitement that threatens to bubble out the closer he gets, a nervous giggle on his tongue at just how easily you slide open the door for him to enter. Like you’ve been waiting for him all morning, watching as your gaze drops to his painfully hard cock bobbing against his tummy and then back to his face, your intent clear to see as you beckon him in. And like a stupid dog he is he follows, tail wagging behind him in sheer infatuation for you and your lewd display, breath caught in his throat from how difficult it is for him to comprehend that you’re his. You, gorgeous, sexy, you. Standing naked right in front of him, prompting him to come under the shower head by leading him in with such gentle touch, making room for him to slide in front of you and yet still he’s pressed right against you, his cock inevitably leaking onto your front for the water to wash away. It’s only when he’s flush against you that he remembers how to speak, mind caught up to the warm smile you send his way while your hands rest softly against his biceps. You do this to him, yknow? Make his mind all fuzzy and blank, just from looking at you. Fuck, he’s so in love with you. He has to show you, by any means possible. It just so happens that this mornings attempt consists of his cock twitching so nicely against your lathered up tummy while he eyes you up and down, tongue poking against the inside of his cheek in a confident display of want for you.

“Sorry,” he starts again, his gaze half lidded and tone cheeky with knowing that you want this too, but it’s fun to play pretend. To act as if everything was normal and that he didn’t want to shove his cock so deep into you that you can’t walk for the rest of the day. “Really, I didn’t mean t’jus’ walk in like that.” And he’s being honest, but the casual way he he talks with you is in stark contrast to how hard his cock throbs and it only riles him up more as you simply listen to his excuses, his hands mirroring your own as he lets them rub lightly against your shoulders, traveling down your arms to the bend of your elbow and then back up again. “But now that I’m here…” He smiles, raising his eyebrows at you in a way that makes you giggle and fuck, even that turns him on some more. How cute you sound when enjoying his dumb theatrics, the slight shake in your body as you laugh rubbing against his cock, the way your back is pressed clean against the tiled wall of the shower and still there isn’t enough room for him— all of it causing him to be overwhelmed completely by you. Your touch, your scent, your voice— it all culminates in one thing and one thing only. “Well… Let’s just say that m’happy t’see ya here, yeah?”

He knows what’s about to happen, and he knows that you know too. The little glint in your eye as you bite your lip in front of him, playing coy and hard to get with your barely there touches and meek little nods— shit, you’re so sexy it’s unfair. He could just— could just breed you right now if he wanted to. It’s something he’s been thinking about for a while now, but seeing as how loving and doting you are of him always, though especially this morning, he decides maybe it’s time he gives in to your late night confessionals. Because honestly, he hasn’t been able to get it off his mind since you mentioned your hidden want to be bred, every fuck after the first admission proving to pull him further to your side on the matter and he can’t help but think this chance encounter was actually planned all along. You, up early and showering before he’s even had a chance to wash up himself. Staying silent as he wanders in, watching him with a curious smile on your lips and even inviting him to join you in the shower. It has to be your intentions, right? God he hopes so, given the fact that he’s so horrendously down bad for you that he can’t stop a small groan escaping at your playful touches. They aren’t even that sexual in nature, and yet he’s harder than he’s ever been with the possibility of wifing you up in the dirtiest way he knows how, his head leaning back a little to rest calmly against the wet glass.

“I am too.” You whisper, so breathlessly that he whines a little simply at the husky nature of your voice. Truthfully, you could do just about anything and he’d be turned on, which is part of the reason why he finds himself agreeing with your breeding kink. He gets it, now that he’s standing face to face and cock to front with you in the much too small shower. Laughing a little at his inability to see it previously— you’re gonna be his little wife, and he wont stop today until he’s sure you’ve taken his seed. That’s what you want, isn’t it?

“Yeah? And why’s that?” He smiles, knowing full well why you’re happy to see him but the fantasy of it all is too good to ignore. Has his cock leaking all over you some more, twitching between both bodies while he makes it wait just a little longer. Will make the eventual act all the more satisfying, he thinks, as he edges himself against you.

Your hands drop lower to his abdomen, trailing your nails over his slight abs in a way that makes him shiver into your touch despite the warm water running down him. He needn’t ask at all, but this teasing game is driving him insane, his smile refusing to leave as he bites his tongue to prevent himself from shoving it down your throat in needy hunger. Driven to rest his hands on your hips by his baby making thoughts, gently pinching and playing with your skin there while ruminating over how perfect your body is for breeding. For his seed, flashes of imagined sights consisting of your full with milk tits and pretty round tummy causing his hips to buck ever so slightly against you. Because what a good mommy you’d be, yeah? He couldn’t imagine a better fit even if he tried, intentionally rubbing his hard cock against you now the closer your hands reach down, gripping your hips tighter for a better fucking surface.

“Mhm… Because…” You trail off, the feeling of your fingers brushing against his cock winding him too much when paired with the seductive tone you adopt, eying you up expectantly as you pause to make him wait to hear what he knows is coming. “Because I need you.”

There it is, and even though he knew it was coming, the verbal confirmation of your want causes his head to grow dizzy. “Yeah?” He stupidly mumbles, because he sure as fuck can’t think of anything else to say with your hand so close to his cock. He understands. He needs you too.

“Mhm. If you’ll have me, I mean.”

And he’s never moved faster in his life before, harshly sucking air in-between his closed teeth before grinding his cock against you with more purpose. “Fuck yeah I want you, shit—” he gasps, the wet glide of his cock against your tummy convincing him to flip you around in a second, pressing your front tight against the shower tiles and growling down at you when you stick your ass out further against him. Heart in his throat and cock immediately slipped between your thighs, his brain automatically turned off to focus solely on making sure you’re properly bred by the end of this morning. “Always, always want ya.” He mumbles against your neck, leaning over you to better hump his cock between your wet thighs, panting with you as his cock glides between your folds and knocks against your puffy clit. There’s a certain acute desperation in his actions and in his words, the choked half whines and greedy thrusts against your cunt, no patience left in him to take his time with your dirty display just moments ago. He’s convinced that you’re the girl of his dreams, knows as much to be true when you softly moan his name each time his tip leaks more pre against you, every thrust of his cock against your slit compelling him further to give in to his instinctual need to impregnate you— just like how he knows you want just as much as him. He has to knock you up.

It’d be a lie to say he fucks his tip right inside your little hole on pure accident alone, but rather his eager humps spreading the copious amounts of precum your moans pull out of him cause his cock to just— slip in. Not that he hears you complaining though, a small shocked gasp and you’re already wiggling your ass back against him begging for more: and he’s all too happy to give. A voiceless sorry dying on his lips at the feeling of your hole wrapping tight around him, his hands automatically locked at your hips to keep you pinned in place for him to shove himself inside. It’s not slow by any means, and even he winces a little at the too fast stretch his needy cock forces you to endure, but he’ll just have to apologize later. He’s got no time to do so right now as his hips naturally rock into you, too fixated on watching his cock disappear into your little cunt to excuse his rough treatment, squeezing reassuringly at your hips to thank you for taking him so well seeing as he’s too breathless to do so otherwise. Blank mind, all he knows is he wants you. And he has you, right within his greedy grip, pulling your ass back as far as he can against him in the small shower to fuck you back against his already fast fucks just as much as he humps you forward with each thrust. A loud slap heard over the hot water trickling down, his balls hitting your clit with how hard he fucks into you, staining your insides sticky with precum while hunching himself over your own cramped body position to completely encase you with him. “Perfect fuckin’ cunt,” He heaves against your ear, spoken through gritted teeth and a tense jaw, his tempo brutal in how hard and fast he fucks into you. A clear show of just how powerless he is to control himself around you, how desperate he is to prove just how much he wants you. Enough to breed your tight little hole and start a family with you, anyway. “Gonna fill it up, kay?” He half laughs, the sound overtaken by a pained moan from how hard your cunt squeezes around him at his words.

“Y’like the sound of that, huh? Oh, sure feels like y’do.” He taunts you, his mouth opening to graze his just brushed teeth against your shoulder, an act of claiming. He hums around it, eyes narrowed as if it’d help him listen to your high pitched whines for more better, cock throbbing inside of your tiny hole at the lewd squelch he fucks out of you each time he fully sheathes inside. “Sounds like y’wanna be a mommy— fuck, I’ll make ya one—” he promises, punctuating his assurance with deeper thrusts to make sure you know just how serious he is. Because beyond just how sexy the thought alone of creaming your pretty pussy is, he also can’t deny how hard his heart beats at the chance of tying the knot with you by way of knocking you up— preferably right here and now. “Feel s’fuckin’ good babe— God.” He moans, voice still laced with gravelly sleep, digging his chest into your back to try and bend you over further in the shower so he can properly mount you, a prime breeding position for his full balls to empty into. And you’re taking him so well, such a good girl for him to breed, moaning prettily and offering your hole up for him with such ease, fuck. He can’t stop himself from fucking you, frankly. Just a dumb dog in heat, breeding his favorite bitch in his favorite position— doggy style. The sight of you bent over and so submissive before him just does things to him. Drives him crazy with need for you when you present yourself like this, allowing him to do whatever he wants to you so long as you get your little hole filled. Loves it so much that he’s already close, pinching your sides with urgency as he feels the way you cunt tries to keep him buried deep inside, sucks him in harder each time he tries to pull his hips back. If he couldn’t hear how clearly you wanted him to cum inside from your gasped whines then he sure as fuck can tell from how receptive your body is to him. And he yearns for it too, driving his cock as fast as he can into you and bullying his tip to your cervix to increase the likelihood of breeding you.

And he doesn’t even have time to think about satisfying you first, too caught up in his selfish desires to watch his cum drip from your cute little cunt to regard you with even an ounce of careful attention. It’s all happened so fast, so intense is his need to breed that he can only lay over you panting, tongue lolling out to help him gulp down more air so that he can continued fucking you like his life depended on it, wet slaps ringing in his ears to match your soft squeaks and drawled moans. He’s so in love. So desperately, infuriatingly, devastatingly in love with you that the only logical conclusion in his current horny with love drunk state is to keep pounding into you. His thrusts growing sloppier the louder and more attention seeking you get, begging for something, but he can’t hear you all too clearly. Not when he’s struggling to keep his breath from the amount of whines your cunt pulls from his own throat, doing his best to listen intently to the smack of his balls against your slit, water running between his body and your own to increase the wet suck you offer his cock— no, he can’t hear your cries. Can only feel how tight your hole gets as he shoves his hips right against you, grinding his length into you in short snap thrusts that make his eyes roll back with just how nice it feels to be completely enveloped by you. “Gonna— Fuck me— Gonna cum inside, kay?” He pouts down at you, adopting a babying tone as if he was mocking you. “’N ya can’t get away— shit, keep ya pinned against me, yeah? Make me a daddy, fuck, please—” his tone increases in pitch the more he babbles, head thrown back the second you let you a small sound of agreement between your incoherent whimpers and he’s done for. Your tight cunt promising to milk him dry as he fucks his cock into you with stuttering half thrusts, fucked himself stupid into your tight little hole that he doesn’t even have the mind to warn you before it happens. He isn’t even embarrassed about how quickly he’s filling up your cunt because if anything, he thinks it serves to show you just how much he loves you. Can’t compose himself enough to hold back for you, continuing short little humps into you to fuck his cum back in as he shoots his load right against your cervix, panting your name over and over again as if it’s the only thing he remembers— and it might as well be from how well you empty him. Balls deep in your cunt and he still can’t stop his hips from moving, circling his cock inside of you until he’s well and truly painted your insides white, a few drops of his seed leaking from your overstuffed cunt and down the drain with the water.

Even if he wanted to talk after such a quick fuck he can’t, left stunned and satisfied (albeit a bit sore from the cramped space of your shower) and it’s still morning. Plenty more day left to fuck you pregnant some more. His grip on your waist growing softer as he slowly pulls out of your used hole, only to immediately plug it with his fingers with a terse smile on his lips. “Don’t want any spillin’ out.” He admits, cooing down at your sensitive sounds from being touched so soon after such a rough session.

“Round two after a shower.” He perks up, playfully slapping your ass and laughing lightheartedly at your pouty whine. He may have acted on a whim this morning, but given just how good it felt cumming inside of you, he’s more resolved than ever to make your wishes come true. Tonight, he’ll make sure your fantasies are fulfilled— whether you like it or not.

#sdv smut #stardew valley smut #sdv sam smut #- writing

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evanchantingpeters · 4 days

Text

How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 2)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff, Romance

Summary ─ Y/N is fresh in East Hollywood, LA. After a major life overhaul, she’s ready to dive into a new chapter. So, when she hits the town for a night out with friends, she unexpectedly crosses paths with none other than actor Evan Peters. Y/N tries to keep her cool and act all nonchalant, but damn, Evan’s interest throws her for a loop. Their first meeting? Total tension and flirtation, hinting at an evening full of surprises.

Warnings ─ Obscene language, semi-public, dry humping, oral (both receiving), fingering, overstimulation, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, rough sex, extra smutty—you guys know the drill ;)

Read Part 1 here.

Word count ─ 4K

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

If you were told ten minutes ago that you’d be straddling Evan Peters, skin-on-skin in the driver’s seat of his car, grinding your soaked pussy against his solid rock hard-on while your tongues explore each other like it’s a competition until your lips get swollen, you’d be like, “Yeah, right, when pigs fly.”

But here you are, parked in some dark, secluded spot near the club you’ve just met. Your moans bounce off his car windows as he hungrily fondles handfuls of your body. You do love you some manhandling, truth be told.

You have your friends’ blessings about leaving with someone. Though, the chances of them believing you’ve pulled and bagged Evan Peters as your sneaky link for the night are slim to none, especially after you lecture Adria on the celebrities-normies combo being far-fetched. But it’s fair to say you didn’t choose the night with Evan Peters; the night with Evan Peters chose you.

His veiny hands on you and his gravelly voice against your ear trigger a muscle memory, recalling the heat you felt—but never vocalised—during Murphy’s close-ups on Evan’s hands in the Dahmer series and his viral ‘Relax, I just wanna take some pictures’ line. His baritone in that unsettling scene still gives you chills.

“Damn, miss...you’re something else,” he rasps out with a sly smile. You become his Roman Empire as he worships the sight of all of you on top of him, eyes devouring your entire body as you move gracefully, biting your bottom lip.

He groans deeply as his hands knead your tits and waist all the way down your thighs. With a cheeky squeeze of your ass, he draws you closer, a little squeal escaping you as his raging erection rubs harsher against your wet centre.

“I’m dying to fuck you,” he huffs after your lips meet again, his eyes imploring as he buckles his hips against yours. The friction sends your arousal flying. You just know he’s the type who promises to rail you until your guts rearrange and actually delivers. Better hold on tight.

With a coy grin, you reach down and caress his bulge straining under his jeans. “I can tell,” you whisper, your hot breath making him shudder as you mischievously trace his upper lip with your tongue.

Evan sucks in a sharp breath and bucks against your touch with a choked grunt. You can feel his length convulsing beneath you, your wetness still squishing against him.

“No...for real, Y/N. You’re insanely hot...and while I wanna bang your brains out right now, I don’t wanna objectify you. I respect you an—”

You cut him off mid-sentence with another steamy kiss. The urge to sit him in front of a mirror as he unravels his feminist, anti-alpha male stance, all while you jerk him off before riding the shit out of him, is stronger than ever.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart, Evan? So virtuous with your strong values and morals,” you praise his ‘golden-retriever’ and ‘husband material’ nature, delicately caressing his cheek. “But let’s cut to the chase—I’m here to hook up.”

With newfound energy, you attack his neck with eager kisses as you roll your hips against him more vigorously. Your fingertips roam over his sculpted Greek-God chest, travelling down to the contours of his divinely marbled abs.

Body is damn bodying.

You go on full “pick-me girl” mode as you purr, “I’m thirsty” and playfully toy with the buckle of his belt, hinting at your intentions. You can’t let that mound on his jeans go unnoticed; it’s practically screaming for your attention and attentive care.

He lets out a dark chuckle against the crook of your neck as he nibbles his way up to your jawline. “How can I quench your thirst?” he murmurs, now nipping at your pouty lips.

“You’re the best refreshment around,” you hush before swiftly shifting to the passenger seat and bending over, knees near your head and ass pointed skywards in a tantalising display he can’t resist.

You begin to pepper mouth-watering kisses along his chest, sliding down to his boner. Your tongue stumbles over the ridges of his abs as you venture lower, your moaning mouth leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

He cocks his head to the side with a knowing smirk, admiring the view that the curve of your ass provides, smacking it along the way.

With practised ease, you undo his jeans, palming the damp patch of pre-cum on his boxers. Glancing up at him with a crooked smile, you coo, “Eager, are we?” before sliding down his boxers.

His head lolls back, muffled moans escaping him as you swipe your tongue along the underside ridge of his hard, red-tipped cock. His breath rushes out in laboured, choppy huffs like his life depends on you. The way you take him deeper, double-fisting him, becomes his lifeline.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” he manages to utter under his breath as he tenses in your grasp. You mewl softly around his cock, sending vibrations rippling through his body like shockwaves.

You’re insatiable, sucking him up from taint to balls, coating him in your saliva as you pump him harder in your mouth. Your swollen cunt is aching for him as you feel his head harden and twitch in your mouth with building pressure, forcing gagging moans out of you.

Gripping your hair in a messy ponytail, he watches intently as he fucks your mouth with increasing intensity. His free hand brushes along your clothed slit, his sturdy fingers running up and down your soaked panties. You gasp at the stimulus, clinging to the door handle for support.

“E-Evan,” you slur out as he applies more pressure on your throbbing heat, your words faltering as ragged breaths escape you.

“Yes?” He whispers, feigning innocence, though his arched brow and smirk betray his true intentions. He knows he can edge you with minimal effort, making you cum in his hands on the spot.

“Don’t stop,” you plead through your desire, your hips swaying in harmony with his rhythmic in-out motion.

“Keep sucking, baby girl. You drive me nuts, but I wanna see you multitask,” he challenges, no pun intended with his nuts reference.

As he tucks aside your lacy panties, he begins to circle your arousal, teasing your slopping folds. A low grunt slips off him as he feels how wet and ready you are for him. “Jeez, I need to take a dive in those Niagara Falls,” he chuckles and keeps fiddling around your throbbing clit.

Before you know it, he plunges two fingers in your begging entrance, eliciting a whimper from your lips that’s louder than you expect. The way he expertly curls his fingers inside you, hitting all the right spots, sends bolts of pleasure through your core.

Soon, the sound of your moans blends with the wet squelching of your pussy, echoing throughout the car.

The faster his fingers pop in and out, the louder you moan in delight as you suck his dick relentlessly. When his thumb joins in, smoothly rubbing against your clit with no mercy, your thighs begin to wobble.

His fingering inevitably loses momentum as he tightens his grip on your hair. You giggle quietly as you realise he’s about to hit his climax, his head striking against the back of your throat, causing your eyes to well up with tears.

“Fuuuck, I’m gonna burst, Y/N,” he growls, delivering a sharp slap to your ass. His fingers dig into the sensitive flesh of your thighs, leaving faint red marks on them. He lets out the cutest, most contrasting sounds—something between a low groan and a high-pitched whimper—as his hips thrust harder each time.

With a wicked grin, you intensify your suction on his tip, sending him over the edge with a primal groan. His hot cum spurts into your mouth, filling it with its salty sweetness, before trickling down your chin. You eagerly lick his shaft clean and swallow his juices with greedy gulps, savouring his taste with a satisfied hum.

“Told you, you’ve freshened me up,” you chirp, playfully wiping him off your face. “You’re okay?” you ask with a bashful smile, reaching out to brush back the sweaty curls that have clung to his forehead.

He throws his head back, his chest still heaving with shallow pants as he stares at you with hooded eyes. “Damn, you’re good...I’m wrecked,” he breathes out.

Grinning lazily at you, he buries your face in his hands and grazes your cheeks with his thumbs.

“If you need a dopamine boost, I’ve got just the cure for you,” you coo and lean in close, twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

“Oh, yeah? What’s the prescription, doc?” he teases, his eyes dark with lust as he bites his lip, his hands massaging your ass cheeks. It’s a silent prompt for you to climb back over him as his mouth desperately fumbles your skin.

You peer into his lustrous eyes with a sly smirk. “Sure, I can give you a ride, sir,” you purr, your fingers tracing tantalising patterns through his locks.

His grin widens as your sex alights on his crotch that’s twitching eagerly at the prospect. “I’m all for it,” he murmurs, pulling you close for another heated kiss.

His arms envelop you as you bend together towards the compartment by the passenger’s seat with shared anticipation. Your hands remain entwined around the back of his neck as you sprinkle kisses across his flushed face.

He delves into the container, rifling through its contents. “Shit,” he hisses, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“Houston, we have a problem?” you ask, your voice deep with desire.

“Mission abort...out of condoms,” he admits, his eyes meeting yours with regret.

“Consider it solved, let’s head to mine.”

You fling open the door to your apartment, ushering Evan inside with a goofy grin. “Come on in and behold the fortress of fun!” you announce, gesturing grandly to the vibrant interior.

He giggles and steps inside, taking in the cosy yet funky vibe of your place. “Dang, this place’s dope,” he compliments, nodding approvingly at the eclectic mix of pop art and rococo décor.

You beam proudly. “Thanks! Gotta give props to my housemate, Mayra. She’s the mastermind behind all this coolness,” you explain as you lead him down the hall towards the living room, giving him a quick peek into your room.

“Ah, gotcha. She’s got skills,” Evan comments appreciatively as you both shuffle back to the living room, clearly digging the ambiance.

He scans the space more thoroughly this time before turning back to you. “Is your housemate around?” he inquires casually, hands in pockets.

You shake your head, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Nah, she’s living it up in NYC for work. Won’t be back for a while,” you reply with a shrug, not missing the mischievous shine in Evan’s eyes as he looks you up and down.

His gaze darkens slightly as he inches closer with a smug smile that grows with every step, pinning you against the wall next to a small table stand. “Just you and me, then, huh?” he murmurs, his voice coarse and velvety just like it turns you on.

You affirm him with a smirk. Your fingers tangle in the soft strands of his hair as he closes the distance between you with a soft kiss that rapidly turns into a full-blown makeout session. What begins as sensual brushstrokes—your lips caressing softly—soon morphs into a heated exchange, your tongues kicking off a seductive twirl.

With a breathy moan, you shed his jacket and tug at his shirt, balling it up with a scrunch as you press his chiselled body firmer against yours.

“I like your lips,” he rasps out between kisses, a broad smile etched on his lips.

“My horizontal or vertical lips?” you toss out nonchalantly with a smirk, seemingly unfazed by any potential consequences. As if that isn’t daring enough, your gaze pierces into his eyes, radiating a sexual intensity that tips him off the edge.

He reciprocates your challenge with a devilish grin, as it’s his turn to strip you off your jacket and dress. His gaze is hungry as he takes you in. “Let me do an audit down there first, assess the vertical ones, and I’ll come back to you,” he mumbles as he drags sensual kisses down your boobs.

You moan softly as he latches onto your perky nipples, giving them a tantalising pull that only worsens your wetness down there.

His mouth trails down your body and sucks onto your hip bones until it finally presses against the fabric of your thong, right on your clit. You instinctively arch your back and grip the edges of the table as he kisses and inhales against you with a hum of delight.

“Where’s my boy dinner?” he teases, staring up at you. He stretches your panties down and leaves a kiss on the peak of the mound between your legs, causing you to squirm in his firm hold.

You shoot him a sultry grin, your voice tinged with desire. “Where do you want it served?”

With a swift movement, he flips you over, offering deliciously tingling love bites on your ass cheeks. As he rises to his full height, his lips shower your neck with fervent kisses.

You instinctively rest your head onto his shoulders, granting him easier access, and you can’t help but moan lightly as you feel the firm press of his hardness against your lower back.

“You see that couch over there?” he coos. You’re quick to grab onto his belt and tug him over there without breaking the kiss. You both let out muffled moans and smile-kiss as Evan finds his leg ensnared in the folds of a blanket, miserably fighting to wiggle himself free.

You slump down on the couch together, him on top, and instantly dive into a deeper kiss. His groans fill your mouth, assaulting your senses. You playfully suck on the tip of his tongue as you feel his stiff cock on your stomach, eager to set free.

“I’ll lick my plate clean, I promise. I just want you to feed me,” he begs, flashing you an imploring look.

“How do you want it?”

“On my face...only for me to feast,” he grins, pulling you in for another sloppy kiss while groping around your thighs all the way up your tits.

Lying on your back, you watch as he stands beside you and slowly chucks your thong away. His eyes fixate on your slick sex with a mix of awe and hunger, his fingers itching to dig in and explore.

You spread your thighs wider, inviting him closer between your legs, hands on his chest. He positions his head under you, his warm breath tingling your skin. His mouth brushes along your inner thighs, leaving tender kisses as he moves closer to where you want him to be.

And then, without warning, he savagely stretches apart your dripping pussy and licks a long stripe along your slick folds, making you squeak with pleasure. Groaning with delight at your taste and the slimy texture, his lips begin to suck on your clit.

You gasp and instinctively clutch his biceps as his tongue starts to glide against your slit, forcing choked whines from deep within you.

“Fuck, I could eat you out all day long,” he moans against you, his hands gripping your ass tightly as his licking becomes harsher and more aggressive. Damn, even his voice alone can make you squirt in an instant. There’s nothing about him that can give you the ick.

Your mind goes all foggy as his nose lightly nuzzles your clit. His tongue tirelessly laps back and forth against your sobbing red pussy, twirling along your gummy walls. He lifts you up by the hips, his tongue sinking deeper each time as he pulls you down onto his face. You drop your head back, a string of moans spilling from your lips.

Your toxic trait is believing that this is just a hook-up, and you won’t catch any feelings. Even when you’re riding Evan Peters’ face, receiving head so good your coochie can explode.

Well, why toxic? E v a n P e t e r s has you seeing stars as he works his magic on your clit and jams his tongue inside you like there’s no tomorrow. And there may not be a tomorrow, so why not just enjoy him on you, next to you, under you, or in you while it lasts? He makes you feel like the hottest and luckiest chick on earth (sorry, fandom), that’s just straight facts.

Reconsidering, you set off a swirling dance on his face to keep up with his pace, your legs getting all quivery. The knot in your stomach stiffens as your high builds, hitting you like a train wreck.

“Evan, fucking hell... I’m finishiiing,” you almost scream shakily as you fight for breath, your vision getting hazy. Your legs involuntarily tense around his head, and your knees tremble, while small, punchy sobs slip off your lips.

You catch him staring at you, a triumphant smile spreading on his lips as you writhe and wriggle back and forth under him, the throes of your orgasm in full glory.

He draws comforting circles on your stomach and plants sweet pecks on your thighs, giving you space to catch your breath. Your hand cradles his face as your vagina keeps throbbing, making you giggle from the tingly sensation.

“I want more,” he cries out, his lips curving downwards in a mock frown as he presses a few more gentle kisses on your heat before you climb off his face, your steps unsteady.

“Then, make sure you tone down your clit game. Most men act like it doesn’t even exist,” you scoff as you throw shade, shooting him a teasing grin as you clean his chin from your juices and his saliva.

“How can you take away the tomato from tomato juice? Same goes for Evan and a woman’s climax when I eat pussy,” he retorts, flexing his muscles with an arrogant smirk.

You playfully roll your eyes, ready for a comeback. “Sorry to humble you, but for us ladies, it’s mostly a mental process. Too many tricks won’t cut it,” you counter, picking up your underwear from the floor.

He raises a sceptical brow and narrows his eyes at you, his tongue sliding against his side teeth. “Oh, really? Care to see my tactic and put that theory to the test?”

“Be my guest,” you smirk with a provocative flair, motioning towards your bedroom with a sweep of your arm.

He seizes your arm, pulling you close, and melds his lips with yours in a fiery kiss. As his tongue enters your mouth, you can still taste yourself on him, making your cunt pulsate for him tenfold. You’re so turned on that you’d fold no matter what he asks you to do.

“Challenge accepted, you’ve been warned,” he quips, wagging a finger at you before scooping you up his arms and carrying you to the bedroom.

There you are, sprawled out in the middle of your bed, all bare and irresistible, sensually touching your body as your eyes lock onto his.

His imposing figure looms over you as he unzips his jeans, instantly giving you heart palpitations. With a lustful half-smile, he tilts his head and lets his eyes linger at your legs, testing his rizz.

Realising he’s only zeroing in your glistening cunt, you deliberately part your legs, granting him a sneak peak into your “inner world” up to his appetite. “Here it is, baby Ev, all yours and ready,” you grumble, a bright grin stretching across his face as he observes your marvellous pussy.

Talk about a man who sticks to his promises! He said he’d take on your “inside work” while chatting you up at the bar, and here he comes, offering in-house service.

With ease, he sheaths himself in a condom, his gaze never leaving yours as he crouches down on you, propped up on his toned forearms (veins popping all over, goodness me). Pressed flush against you, he peppers eager kisses along your face, neck, and tits, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine.

“I wanna take good care of you,” he whispers, his hands travelling on your body.

Wrapping your legs around him, you let out a needy moan in a desperate attempt to get him inside. Your tongue pushes feverishly into his warm mouth, and he sucks on it gently, eliciting more soft whines from you.

He pulls away, tut-tutting softly against your lips. “Not yet, baby girl. First, tell me how much you want it.”

“Like mad,” you reply with a fervent nod. “And give it to me hard.”

With his throbbing length poised at your drenched entrance, a shared gasp brings smiles to your faces before turning into exhilarating groans. His eye contact never wavers, and from that missionary angle, he looks so Lana Del Rey “West Coast” coded, goddammit.

Your bodies mesh and merge together quicker than a click. Each thrust is a slow and agonising burn, as if he does it on purpose for you to beg him for more. You ache to explore every inch of him, but he just prolongs his torture by leaving only his tip nested inside you.

That’s until his gaze sears into your soul, and you feel him plunge back deep in with a force that sends you reeling, flooding you with ecstasy.

Your body jolts at the abrupt fullness, a raw wail of satisfaction ripping out of your lips as you dig your nails into his shoulder blades.

Taking the reins, he captures your hands above your head, lacing your fingers with his as he sets a relentless pace. He shoves his tongue into your mouth, and before you know it, the room reverberates the sound of skin slapping mingled with your mutual moans.

He releases one of your hands, fingers tracing patterns of comfort on your wrist as he slams in you faster and rougher. “Fuck, you feel amazing, Y/N,” he grunts hoarsely as he watches his cock disappearing into your dripping heat, a satisfied grin plastered on his lips.

Your body responds eagerly to his rough ministrations, hips rising to meet his with a desperate need to go harder. The rush of your pleasure overwhelms you as you yelp his name.

He meets your gaze with a cocky smile as his hand brushes along your lips, his hot breath a tempting tease on your face. Driven by your unhinged horny ass, you delicately snatch his ring finger into your mouth, licking and sucking on it as he grumbles joyfully, driving deeper into me.

“Evan...” you whimper, momentarily squeezing your eyes shut to handle his magnitude.

“You like it rough, baby girl?” he asks in a raspy tone, and his throaty chuckle rings in your ear, sending bolts of electricity down your spine.

“I do,” you gasp chokingly as you look up at him with imploring eyes. “Just right there.”

With a gleam in his eyes, he lifts your legs, draping them loose over his shoulders to penetrate even deeper. The slimy walls of your cunt grip onto his dick like they’re about to devour it, throwing him to the edge.

Your foreheads press together in a feverish intimacy as he pushes you closer to release. His hungry eyes fixate on the jingle of your boobs, his groans of delight mixing with the frantic rhythm of your heartbeats.

“Let me cum inside, Y/N, please. I need to feel you around me,” he begs, his voice strained with desire. His words hang heavy in the air, laden with raw desire as he gazes at you with an intensity that makes your heart race. Your lips meet in a fiery kiss, your tongues moving in sync.

Just as you’re about to cave, a sudden loud crash echoes from the hallway and shatters the air, causing both of you to freeze in place.

His eyes widen with alarm, mirroring your dread, and you instinctively cling to his arm for support.

Wide-eyed and tense, you exchange worried glances, his typically zen demeanour replaced by a flicker of uncertainty. “What was that?” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

“I-I... I don’t know,” you stutter as you smooth out your hair.

A second loud thud breaks out, and it’s louder than the last, making your shrill in terror. Sensing your tremor and the urgency of the situation, Evan scoots closer to you and muffles any incoming outcry by gently covering your mouth with his hand.

“Shh.. easy... I’m with you, Y/N,” he mumbles, kissing the crown of your head. “Okay, let me throw on my clothes and go check. You stay here,” he instructs in a hushed tone, giving you a soft peck as he scrambles near him to pick up his scattered shirt and boxers.

Still nestled in his embrace, your grip tightens on his arm as he makes a move to stand up. “No, Evan,” you protest whisper-shouting. “Let’s go together.”

He hesitates and sighs in exasperation at your refusal to stay in safely. But, ultimately, he nods, his jaw set with determination.

You hastily slip into your satin robe, ready to face whatever danger lurks in the shadows. Hand in hand, you both venture cautiously into the dimly lit corridor as you stand behind him, your senses heightened in anticipation of what you might find.

The tension is palpable as you switch on more lights, illuminating your path as you dive deeper into the unknown.

After scouring every room, you return to the living room, puzzled. “There’s no one in, so we can rule out a break-in or th—” Evan’s words are cut short by a series of loud bangs resounding from the balcony, forcibly pulling your focus to the final frontier in your quest for answers.

“Promise me you’ll stay in. I got this,” he mumbles with a determined gaze. You nod silently with a bated breath, unable to utter a single syllable.

With resolve, he steps outside, the night air is thick with suspense as you watch him while biting your cuticles. Meanwhile, you pace nervously, your mind spiralling through disaster scenarios.

Suddenly, his voice pierces the silence as he calls out your name, giving you the jump scare.

“Evaaan?” you howl frantically as you sprint to the balcony, your heart racing and your hair whipping in the wind.

Relief washes over you as you spot him pointing to a twisted chunk of neon metal lying on the ground, bathed in the moon’s glow. The gusty wind continues to slam the panel against the sliding door, confirming your suspicions.

You lean over the balcony, verifying that the fallen piece has flown from the drugstore sign banner next to your apartment—just a harmless casualty of the night. “I’ll drop it off for repairs tomorrow,” you mindlessly assure Evan as you share a chuckle that mixes nerves with relief.

His grip tightens around your waist as he suggests heading back inside. You both retreat indoors, leaving the metal piece by the balcony door.

“Water?” you offer, and he accepts with a grateful nod, his gaze softening in appreciation.

As you saunter to the kitchen together, you catch him checking you out as you bend over the counter and reach up on your tippy toes to grab a glass.

Just as you’re about to stride out of the room, your cleavage skimming his chest a bit too long, he swiftly corners you against the glass kitchen door.

“Where you think you’re sneaking off to?” he whispers, a smirk playing on his lips as his hands wander over your upper half.

Your eyes flicker across his face as you struggle to draw a breath, your heart pounding with anticipation. “Out?” you manage to squeak.

He inches closer, his voice dripping with suggestion, “We’ve got some unfinished business, don’t we?” he murmurs as his stubble grazes against your jaw, intensifying the pool between your thighs.

“Remind me?” you tease, your lips curving mischievously. You’re in your villain era; if not Evan Peters fucking you, why even bother?

He slides a hand under your loose robe and tenderly tweaks your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. A gasp escapes you at the sensation as his fingers find their way to your clit, setting off a relentless rub that brings a buzzing on your sensitive bundle of nerves. It’s like with each stroke, he’s hitting the pleasure jackpot.

Panting, you sway your hips to match his rhythm, lost in sensation. The play of his thumb on your clit drives you wild, leaving you craving more.

“Bring me a condom, and I’ll give you a reminder,” he chuckles, and in an erratic heartbeat, his lips crash onto yours, warm and demanding. You melt into the kiss as the room spins around you. He kisses you harshly, nearly biting you with a reckless passion, desire raging like a tempest.

With this move, things accelerate viciously. Gone is the playful banter; now it’s all primal need, Evan turning animalistic towards you. In a blur of motion, your body ends up pressed into the cold surface of the glass door; his hands firmly cupping your breasts from behind; his cock throbbing and pounding inside your slippery centre; raw horniness bursting forth through loud moans and grunts.

He’s so damn big, stretching your pussy to the point it stings. He doesn’t give you much time to adjust before he pulls out and jams back in you with primitive force. The door lock rattles incessantly as he pounds into you hard, his lips embellishing your soft skin with red, soon-to-be purple marks, his hot breath making you shiver.

He clings to you, his stomach against your lower back, hips still snapping into your soaked cunt. Together, you set a rhythm, rocking in and out with a measured tempo and sensual grace.

The pain blends divinely with euphoria in your body, leaving your mind foggy and dizzy as he continues to jab in and out of you despite your whimpers. His balls slap against your clit, making your climax hurtle towards you like a tidal wave. Salty tears of pleasure prickle at the corners of your eyes. “I’m close, Evan,” you yelp, your knees beginning to fail you.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he praises out of breath as he smacks your ass, kneading all the way down your clit. “Let go, give it to me,” he urges, punctuating his last word with a particularly deep thrust, jerking inside you and causing your screams to spill out.

Pleasure shoots you like an electric shock, and soon, liquid dribbles down your legs. As the tension in your lower belly finally cracks, you feel him buckle as well, his hips stuttering. Letting out a guttural groan, he gushes out inside of you, followed by small whines of your name.

You urgently ask him to peel the condom away and spill his cum all over your ass and back. Soon, white, sticky cum from both of you mingles and trickles around you until you become a leaky, sticky mess.

His arms band around your waist, your fingers intertwined, his smiling eyes drowning in yours.

“Fuck, what did you do to me, Y/N?” he sighs, and you both giggle, your sweaty lips meeting again in a passionate kiss.

After a mutual clean-up, you slide into a fresh nightgown and return to your room, only to find Evan rummaging under your bed, his firm backside an enticing sight.

“What are you looking for?” you ask, enjoying the view as you lean against the doorframe.

“My car keys,” he growls, his brows furrowed in concentration as he takes a glimpse behind the curtains. “Must’ve fallen out when I took my pants off,” he infers with a low and husky voice as he glances back at you.

You nod sympathetically, folding your bed throw neatly on the corner armchair. His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he resumes his search, the tension between you growing thicker by the second.

“It’s late already. You can crash here tonight, and we’ll track down your stuff in the morning,” you suggest, settling onto the bed.

He looks up, relief sets on his handsome features as he creeps back towards you. “You sure?” he murmurs, his arms encircling your waist, his touch igniting sparks of arousal.

“Never been surer,” you breathe, leaning in for a kiss, unable to resist the pull between you.

But just as your lips meet, the jingle of keys shatter the moment, and you feel something sharp lightly nudging your lower waist. Pulling back, you shoot Evan a knowing smirk, your pulse racing with excitement.

With a nonchalant shrug and a wink, he tosses the keys onto the bedside table before pulling you under the covers and into a heated kiss.

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

Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling

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theblvcksupreme · 3 months

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CONTROL by JANET JACKSON (1986)

On February 4th 1986, at just 19 years old Janet Jackson made history. She released her first album where she had full creative CONTROL. After two mildly successful albums full of songs she had no hand in creating Janet took matters into her own hands. With the help of her legendary producers Jimmy Jam & Terry Lewis, the trio created a new unconventional sound consisting of a fusion of R&B, Rap Vocals, Funk, disco & synthesized percussion that would lead into pioneering a new genre of music called New Jack Swing.

Janet had recently gone through a public divorce to an abusive husband, severed business ties with her father & family. Janet no longer wanted to have her artistry decided for her she wanted to do it her own way.

The album also helped redefine what it meant to be a Black female superstar, and arguably, a Black superstar period. Unlike the safe(sometimes white washed) images of her mid-80s contemporaries there was something undeniably street and edgy about Janet’s overall presentation. From the hard-hitting beats to the funky choreography and sassy attitude, Janet was very Black and proud. With heavy Black Feminist themes Janet was one of the first Pop Stars to unapologetically include feminism and women empowerment in her music.

Control laid the Blueprint that many Female Popstars would later follow. Artists including Britney Spears, Beyoncè, Ciara, Rihanna, Christina Aguilera, Tinashe, Cassie, Teyana Taylor, Victoria Monèt, Janelle Monaè, SZA, HER, Lil Kim, FKA Twigs, Lady Gaga and so many more. Control is still referenced, copied and studied over 35 years later.

With over 14 Million Copies sold it has also received immense critical acclaim and many accolades. It is on Rolling Stones list of the 500 Greatest albums of all time, It is listed by the National Association of Recording Merchandisers and the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame as one of the 200 Definitive Albums of All Time, in addition to being included in several publications "best of" album lists. In 2016, it was selected for exhibition in the NMAAHC.

“This is a story about CONTROL, my control. Control of what I say, control of what I do…. This time I’m gonna do it MY way.”

With this statement alone Control went from just an album to a movement. A young black woman having complete control of her image, her art, her visuals, her presentation, was almost unheard of at the time. Janet changed it all. And with that Janet gave young woman and artists the inspiration to do the same.

Today we Honor Jimmy Jam, Terry Lewis and the Queen of Pop Music: JANET, MS. JACKSON IF YOU’RE NASTY!

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violetsiren90 · 1 year

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Blame Me (Teaser) | Jungkook/Reader

Pairing: Jungkook/Noona Reader (fem reader)

Genre: Best friend's younger brother; slow burn; friends to lovers; eventual romance; eventual smut; neighbors/childhood friends au; forbidden(ish) love; summer love

Summary: Upon returning to your hometown after breaking off your engagement to your boyfriend of three years, you reconnect with your childhood bestfriend as you attempt to put the pieces of your life back together. It seems like nothing has changed in the sleepy little town until your bestie's younger brother returns home from college - very, very grown. As the summer stretches on, the stakes get higher - can you play with fire without getting burned, or have you ignited a flame that won't be extinguished?

Warnings: 18+ (minors, dni); age-gap relationship (between consenting adults); lots of fluff; explicit smut (chapters will have their own warnings); secret relationships; angsty moments; messy situations/relationships; JK on a motorcycle; working through insecurities

Release date: Mid-late May

Author's note: Hello! This will be my first time posting a full-fledged chapter-installment fic here, but I'm excited because I've had this concept brewing in the back of my mind for a while now and BTS Chapter 2 Jungkook, with his curly hair and all his flirty little lives has me soft AF 😂🥰. After launching chapter one, I'm aiming to update twice a month. The teaser below is just a snippet of an interaction to give you a feel for their dynamic.

If you want to be added to the tag list, comment or send me an ask to let me know!

________________________________________

He slug his leg over the bike and settled in, hands on the bars, and flashed a smile over at you that made you suspect he knew just how good he looked sitting there in all that denim.

"C'mon, noona!" He urged, rolling his wrist to rev the engine as his booted foot kicked up the stand. You had never been on a motorcycle before, and if you were being honest with yourself, you were a little terrified of the idea of flying down the road so exposed and precariously perched.

"I don't know, Jungkook..." you wavered, crossing your arms over your chest but advancing a step or two to examine the machine humming under his weight. As you roved your eyes uncertainly over the bike, he reached out and grabbed your arm, pulling you gently but firmly to him.

"Don't you trust me?" He cooed, batting his long lashes over the most obnoxiously irresistible pair of puppy eyes.

"Don't look at me like that!" you chided. He continued to look at you exactly like that. You sighed in defeat.

"Fine," you mumbled, and he let out a laugh, turning to grab the helmet perched behind him and press it over your head before you could protest. You narrowed your eyes at him, your hair pinned sloppily between the two pads of foam squishing together your cheeks. He stared at you for a moment then burst into a fit of laughter.

"Hey!" you whined, but it was hard to be mad at him with his eyes pressed into little crescent moons and his smile so wide and so gloriously blinding as he held his sides and rocked to and fro like a cartoon character. You smiled a small smile in spite of yourself.

"Okay, okay," you sighed, "I know I look dumb, but that was a bit much, don't you think?" Still smiling brightly and chuckling he reached over and buckled the strap under your chin, then patted the top of the helmet.

"Jolla gwiyeobda!" He giggled, tapping your nose. You felt a flush creep over your face and neck which he seemed blessedly oblivious to as he guided you up behind him onto the bike. As soon as your body made contact with the seat, gravity, that crafty bitch, pulled your hips down snugly against his ass, your thighs sliding firmly against the outsides of his own. You kept your hands gingerly on his shoulders as you activated every muscle in your core in an attempt to sit upright. He pulled a helmet over his mop of curls before plucking your hands from his shoulders to guide them around his waist, pulling your chest flush against his torso.

"Tighter, noona!" You could hear the smirk in his voice. This kid. He damn well better not be able to feel your heart beating at a million miles an hour into his back, you thought to yourself in mild distress.

"Like this?" you asked squeezing harder around his waist, and trying your absolute level best to ignore the definition and firmness of his muscles beneath your touch. He hummed in assent. You could still hear that damn smirk.

One rev.

Two revs.

You pressed your eyes shut and curled your head into his back.

He let out a bright peel of laughter.

And then suddenly, you were gliding forward. Faster and faster. You peeked an eye open to discover that in a few short seconds, you had already almost cleared the neighborhood. You cut through the warm evening air like bullet as trees and quaint suburban homes gave way to rolling fields of fertile green. As your broke into the open farmland, your breath caught in your throat. These were the same planes and hills that had met you for years, and yet it was as if you had never really seen them, not until now - with nothing but the wind between you and all of it, the swells of the earth and the sunset. Is this what it felt like to fly? Every ounce of trepidation in your body had been replaced with a euphoric thrill. Did he feel it too? Suddenly he let out a whooping howl that you could barely hear above the roar of the air whipping around you.

Yeah, he must feel it. You smiled. He had before said that sometimes freedom was just hitting the ground running. He said that sometimes you had to take risks to remind yourself that you were alive. As you pressed your cheek into the strong warmth of his back, you began to think you might have a thing or two to learn. And he might be the one to teach you.

-End teaser-

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bg-brainrot · 2 months

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Hugs for a Vampire (Astarion x GN!Reader) - Chapter 15: After Visiting Astarion’s Grave

Chapter 15: After Visiting Astarion’s Grave

Each chapter can be read as a standalone hug.

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader (Rogue!Tav)

Genre: Fluffy, Filling in Canon

Rating: Teen

Tags: Gender-Neutral Pronouns, POV Second Person, Act 3, Astarion's quest, cw: nudity, fluff, like so much fluff, it's too much fluff, post-cazador

WC: 2.3k words, 15/18 chapters

Summary: After the Act 3 romance scene, Rogue!Tav and Astarion enjoy a soft moment together.

Ao3 | [Hug14][Hug16] | Hugs for a Vampire Masterlist

If you had asked yourself this morning– half-asleep after being woken mid-slumber once again– where you thought you would be tonight? It certainly wouldn’t be here. Currently you find yourself staring up at the night sky, grave dirt beneath your bare back, a vampire wrapped in your arms.

What a strange turn of events, you think. In typical Astarion fashion, he’d led you here, opened up his heart to you in ways that you were still processing, defaced his own gravestone, and then promptly swept you off your feet.

He’d called it a ‘night of passion’ and he certainly wasn’t embellishing the truth. While you’ve been with him before, ascertained that he was indeed an expert in matters of physical love, this time felt so very different. It wasn’t just physical love, it was soft and sweet and carried every bit of his genuine affection for you. He felt present, comfortable, enthusiastic even.

He’d said he ‘didn’t care for you at first’. Funnily enough, you hadn’t cared for him either. What kind of rogue dressed as he did, what kind of rogue was as bad at lying as he was? You had scoffed, resisted, denied your feelings to the last. But nothing could have prevented your fall for him.

He’d told you he wants you. I want you. The words swim circles in your head and, as you mull them over now, you find it hard to believe. He could have had so much power, so much of the world could have been his. But now? It’s you he wants. It thrills you as much as it intimidates you.

He’d professed that he loves you. I love you. You’ve felt it– after all, he’s told you how much you matter to him, how much he cares about you, and calls you ‘my love’ or ‘love’ regularly. But despite the many ways you’ve expressed these words to one another, those three syllables in that order pierced you straight through the heart. Even now, repeating them like a mantra to yourself in your mind, you find your entire body melting under the force of the statement.

So here you lie, holding Astarion to your body with one arm, playing with his mused white curls with the other hand, your bodies intertwined in front of his grave. You wonder briefly if perhaps tonight is the first night of your life you decide to sleep naked in a graveyard. Oddly enough, you don’t feel a ton of shame at that fact. You do however, feel grass in your hair, rocks getting between your toes, and dirt settling in places it really shouldn’t settle.

“Love,” you whisper into the night air, afraid of disturbing the man wrapped around you.

“Mmm,” he murmurs affectionately into your shoulder.

“Love?” you repeat, looking down at him, only to find him blissfully resting on you, eyes closed, a content smile playing on his lips. You can’t help but chuckle at the sight, jostling him as you do.

Astarion frowns at the shaking, his arms around your waist gripping you tighter. His brows furrow as he grumbles, “Stop that.”

“I can’t help it,” you say, stroking another soft curl away from his face. “You look like a cat who’s caught a mouse.”

The satisfied smile returns to his face, “Mmm, yes. Consider yourself trapped in my wicked little paws, dear.”

You laugh once more, more gently this time to avoid disturbing him. “I confess, I’m not used to being a mouse. Would you consider letting your prey go, if only to get to a proper bed?”

“No,” he says, finally cracking one eye open. His red glare speaks volumes and you consider dropping the subject in the face of his confident denial. You’re oddly proud of it, even if it means you’ll be stuck in the dirt for the rest of the night.

Instead you take a different approach. “Okay, you don’t need to let me go, but what about allowing me to put a few articles of clothing back on?”

His one open eye narrows, shuts as he contemplates. A moment later he shakes his head into your shoulder. “I can’t allow it.”

You huff a silent laugh into his hair, and ask, “And why not?”

“What if I’m not done with my prey?” To punctuate his words, he presses a cool kiss to your collarbone.

Your cheeks heat in response, and you’re well aware that Astarion has a front row seat to the newest erratic dance your heart performs. But your body protests with each ache, your arm at his temple slack with exhaustion. “Oh love. Any more and your prey may leave this mortal coil.”

Astarion sighs heavily, as if lamenting that he’s fallen in love with such a sad little mortal. “I suppose if the mouse asks nicely, I may have to relent.”

“In that case, would you please allow me the honor of dressing myself?” You lay the words on thick, your fingers tracing a small pattern along the edge of one of his pointed ears.

Perhaps your attentions are too delicate and loving, because Astarion only shudders in your embrace before shaking his head once more. “I’ve changed my mind. We can get caught by the Mortarch for all I care.”

“Astarion,” you chide, removing your hand from his ear. You place the hand on his cheek and his eyes slowly open up to yours. The red in them looks warm, and the gaze that looks back at you is so open that you swear your heart skips a beat. But you’re ever the slightly more responsible of the two of you. “I always thought that the day we got thrown into prison together it would be for theft, murder, maybe racketeering– not public indecency.”

“The night is young, dear,” he says, smiling up at you innocently. "I wouldn't rule any of them out quite yet."

You plant a small kiss on his head and respond, “You are an utter fool.”

“Yes, well, I am your utter fool. So really you have no one but yourself to blame.” His tone is matter-of-fact, and your heart warms at it. He’s been so cautious, as if he was counting down the days you had left together– either not expecting to be freed from Cazador, to escape the brain, or for your love to last longer than a week. Now, he says it as if you’re stuck with him, a prospect you find entirely too appealing. And, given how he currently refuses to let you go, something you’re going to have to learn to navigate.

“Fair enough,” you say, releasing his cheek and letting your head fall back down to the dirt. “In that case, how can I entice you to get up?”

Astarion is silent for a moment, and you can all but hear the wheels turning in his head as you stare into the night sky. “I could be persuaded for a mere pittance really.” His tone is light, but you can sense a bit of tension in how he holds you.

“Really? And what would that be?”

He burrows a bit into your shoulder before mumbling, “Could you… stroke my hair like this more often? Perhaps every night?”

The ask itself really is so small, so endearing in its simplicity. But you can sense the courage it took for him to ask, on top of all of the bravery he’s had to muster today. You can sense the underlying probe, asking you if you’ll stay with him, even after all of this. He’s yours, he’s said as much, but now he’s asking: are you mine?

“Certainly,” you say, no pretense, no qualifiers, no joking words. Your hand returns to his hair, delicately weaving between his curls. “Every night.”

As if being released from a Hold Person, the tension in Astarion’s body dissipates. “Excellent,” he breathes out, placing a tender kiss on your shoulder. “Though I doubt we’ll be able to have such a vigorous prelude every night– Gale might light us on fire if we interrupt his beauty sleep. Gods know he needs it.”

You snort at that, turning back to your lover. “Don’t tell me you plan on having any preludes in that room at the Elfsong? If there’s one thing that this cemetery has, it’s privacy.”

“I don’t know dear,” he says, looking up at you through his lashes. “I’d say we can both be plenty sneaky if we feel like it.”

Despite yourself, you warm under his searing red eyes. You’d gotten so used to Astarion’s teasing words having been just that– words– for quite a while now. It’s somehow worse for the pounding of your heart now that you know he loves you. You clear your throat a bit before responding, “We’ll figure something out. Maybe Gale will even cast a silence spell if we ask nicely.”

Astarion’s laughter is light and loud in the still night air. “Oh darling, I was doomed from the start. How could I resist such a clever creature.”

You give him a wry smile and reluctantly move to start getting up. “All jests aside, we should really get out of this graveyard,” you say, stretching out your free arm and lightly poking your lover in the ribs.

Petulantly, like someone resisting the call of an early morning adventure, he pleads with you, “Just a few more minutes?”

Clucking a noise of disapproval, you try to wiggle your way out from under him. “You’ve had a few more minutes. Besides, if we leave now, we might still be able to bathe some of the grime off?” you offer, trying to entice him off of your arm, which has slowly but steadily been falling asleep.

He heaves a sigh that could wake the dead but finally sits up. “You better keep your promise,” he warns, running a hand through his hair. “Also, if bathing is on the table, add washing my hair to the agenda.”

“Done,” you say, lifting yourself up on one arm. You watch him gather up your clothing, as you massage the feeling back into your arm. You’re easily enraptured by the way his hair shines in the moonlight, the marks you’ve left littered across his pale skin and, above all else, the freedom with which he moves. Like a new man. Looking at him now, you can’t help but think of how far you’ve come together in the last few months.

Of course, Astarion catches you staring, not that it stops you. “Do I have grave dirt somewhere unmentionable?” he asks, turning this way and that to inspect himself.

You shake your head. For all you know, he might, but you honestly hadn’t checked. “No, just thinking back to our first night together– how you told Alfira I was off to find my true love or some other such nonsense.” You laugh at the memory. “I suppose you weren’t that far off.”

“Ugh, you’re such a sap sometimes,” he says rolling his eyes in exasperation, but the smile on his face shows his satisfaction at your words. “What did you tell her? Oh, yes, something about me never finding someone like you again?”

“Close enough.” You shrug, getting up from the ground and taking your clothes from his outstretched arms. “I think my exact words were you may never love like this again.”

His face grows pensive as he shimmies into his underwear. Before you can remark on it, his face brightens, and with a feigned smile he says, “Well, wouldn’t that be a lovely thought! I don’t think I could handle this more than once.”

Something about his tone leaves an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach. A mixture of worry, of love, a creeping anxiety that his life is now deeply entwined in yours, so you’d best not mess this up. You don’t plan on dying any time soon, so you push the thought aside. “If only you could be so lucky,” you say with a sly grin. Halfway through putting on your underwear, you recall another key moment from that night. “More importantly, do you remember that gods awful hug you gave me? It’s a blight that will remain on my mind for as long as I shall live.”

Baring his fangs slightly, Astarion grimaces at you. “Love, I thought we promised never to speak of that again?”

“I know,” you say, brushing some dirt off your legs. Standing back up, you turn to him, making a persuasively sad face at him. “But I can’t help it. It’s all I see when I go to bed at night.” Your tone is utterly melancholy, and you loll your head back dramatically as you say it.

Your love clicks his tongue at your maudlin performance, but sidles up to you all the same. “My sweet, what can I do to wash your brain of that memory?” His hands come to rest on your hips, his gaze focusing on you intently.

Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, the rest of your clothing all but forgotten in your hands, you say, “Only a perfect hug can help, I’m afraid.”

Astarion raises his eyebrows at you and purses his lips. “A tall order. Lucky for you, I've gotten quite a bit of practice in recent weeks. We will fix this yet.” And like that, he brings you into his embrace. Your warmth meets his chill and you produce a happy noise at the contact. He gives a low chuckle, but before he can make a snarky remark, he freezes in your arms.

Immediately recognizing his tension, you stiffen as well. “Which way?” you whisper into his ear.

“Due south, twelve meters,” he responds in a practiced manner. It wouldn’t be the first time either of you got caught mid-crime together. And unless you die come morn, likely not the last. “East then?”

You nod into him, and despite the situation, find yourself laughing. “Shall we race to the Elfsong in our underwear?”

His own laughter shakes your body, as he says, “After you, love.”

Under that moonlit night, clothing clutched in your hands, pieces of grass falling out of your hair, Astarion and you run through Baldur’s Gate. Your combined laughter and love carry you all the way back to the Elfsong and your heart feels full.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #rogue + rogue #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #astarion masterlist #hugs for a vampire #hfav #gn reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #astarion baldurs gate #bg3 astarion

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slexenskee · 10 months

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Running List of No Scrubs Albums

Because even I can't keep up with them anymore lol. I'll update it as I go. Also yes there are 6 official albums with 6 songs each... because Gojo is lame lol. And yes the acoustic albums are 5 songs... because he's extra lame

Spotify Playlist

update as of 09/18/23 bc I'm a f** scrub with commitment issues clearly

1. Thanks, I Hate it Here:

The 2nd album by release order, but first in chronological order of when they played them live. Yes, Gojo was feeling himself in his classic FOB phase real hard on this one lol. I find the evolution of FOB's discography IRL to be really fascinating, so I wanted to emulate it in the fic. This album is almost entirely FOB because Gojo realized flopping around bands and genres was difficult for the rest of his band, so he decided to first focus on one kind of ‘sound’ until they got used to playing together.

Critics will later call it a bit unpolished and juvenile in comparison to the refined sound, themes, and quality production of later albums, with it's younger and simpler narratives. Thematically it tends to resonate more with a younger crowd, which people accredit to Ru-kun's assumed age of writing at the time (late teens). In other words, it becomes the quintessential 'middle school glory days' playlist for an entire generation of No Scrubs fans.

A Loaded God Complex - (Sugar We're Going Down) FOB

Reinventing the Wheel to Run Myself Over - FOB

In Too Deep - Sum 41

Homesick at Space Camp - FOB

A Little Less Sixteen Candles - FOB

Dance, Dance - FOB

2. Good News For People Who Love Bad News

This was No Scrubs' first album ever released on a streaming platform, but it compromises songs more from their 2nd live setlist chronologically. A cult favorite amongst the fans, this album is fun and bratty with a combination of punchy pop punk lyrics, theatrical narratives, and catchy hooks that become unanimous with the band's dramatic flair. No Scrubs always had a rep as an underground alternative band with petty delinquent vibes, but this album definitely solidified them as the patron saint of all the edgy and misunderstood goth punks.

At this point the band had been together for a few years and Gojo definitely felt satisfied with the way the band was coming together and wanted to throw in some more famous mid 2000s pop punk bands into the mix.

Nobody Puts Baby In The Corner - FOB

I'm Not Okay (I promise) - MCR

In One Ear - Cage the Elephant

But It's Better if You Do - Panic!

I Write Sins not Tragedies - Panic!

Jesus of Suburbia - Green Day

3. Death Before Decaf

After playing up the 'pop' quite a bit in the last album, No Scrubs digs deep into some gritty grunge roots with their third album, full of noisy amped up rock anthems. Thematically it was considered their strongest album at the time of release, with intense vocals and lyrics covering dark and personal topics beneath the guise of their distinctive and iconic instrumental riffs. The juxtaposition between the catchy sing-along hooks and the depressing deeper meaning to the words made this album an instant classic. It remains a fan favorite of music critics for Ru-kun's scorchingly honest handling of raw and deeply personal themes like suicide, depression, and substance abuses. After the identities of the band members became public, it became a hotly debated album amongst No Scrubs fans, who consider it a cathartic outlet for a lot of the trauma that turned Ru-kun into a villain, but also a worrying one full of suicidal ideation, alcoholism, drugs, and child abuse.

On his part, Gojo was feeling nostalgic for his youth and felt it an affront that the likes of Nirvana and Weezer had never been experienced in the MHA universe. He gets asked about these songs a lot, specifically about Today, Semi-Charmed Life, and Say it Ain't So, which all seem to allude to a dark history. He often tells people Semi-Charmed Life is one of his favorite songs ever, which doesn't help matters, and also alarms several psychologists, who worry he's romanticizing what was clearly a very unhealthy time in his life.

My Own Worst Enemy - Lit

Today is the Greatest - (Today) Smashing Pumpkins

Smells Like Teen Spirit - Nirvana

Come As You Are - Nirvana

Say It Ain't So - Weezer

Semi-Charmed Life - Third Eye Blind

4. Glass Onion Heart

Aka the "Baby boy who hurt you???" album inspiring sexuality crises across the world

Glass Onion Heart feels like a wild card of metamorphosis from No Scrubs' prior albums, with the addition of more electronic, pop, and synth instrumental mixing. Combined with the explosive and flashy tour that accompanied the album's release, it felt like a radical departure from the band's classic garage-band sound, into a more streamlined, pop format.

The album was met with divisiveness from fans, not helped by the news of the band's breakup following the album release and subsequent tour. While many adored the new direction, long-time fans mourned the loss of the quintessential indie and underground 'No Scrubs' aesthetic, especially when faced with the thought of their final album. Nonetheless, it was the band's most popular album at time of release by a wide margin. It certainly helped the album's popularity that Ru-kun did the entire tour in drag.

At this point fans the world over became intrigued by No Scrubs and their burgeoning fame, prompting Gojo to name the album 'Glass Onion' after the Beatles song of the same name, because there is no deeper meaning to any of his songs, he's literally ripping them off from bands that don't exist. Fans spend way too long trying to figure out who this album was inspired by - who could have possibly broken their precious Ru-kun's heart?? - and as we enlightened No Scrubs fans know, it was no one. Literally no one. Gojo just really liked this femme fatale vibe, and decided to cross dress the entire tour because of it.

Tokyo - The Wombats

Dance Floor Anthem - Good Charlotte

Thanks for the Memories - Fall Out Boy

I'm the Leading Man - (This Ain't a Scene) Fall Out Boy

Moving to New York - The Wombats

Misery Business - Paramore

5. Infinity on High

Hailed as a return to the unfettered, unabashed, anti-establishment garage-band jam-session appeal that had people flocking to No Scrubs in their heyday, this album made an intense splash as No Scrubs' Comeback Album. Despite the return to their signature gritty rock sound, this album was in fact the most produced of any of No Scrubs' albums. This album marks both the return of No Scrubs as well as their launch into global superstardom.

Ironically, Gojo named this after his favorite FOB album (I mean it IS called Infinity lol) despite not including a single FOB track. Fans widely consider "Island in the Sun" to be specifically about Hawks, which Gojo never confirms or denies (although he definitely did think the similarities to their island mission were amusing). In reality, the song that reminds him of Hawks - and himself - the most is Mayonnaise, which might be why it's one of his favorites.

Holiday - Green Day

Cherub Rock - Smashing Pumpkins

Cool Enough - (Mayonnaise) Smashing Pumpkins

1979 - Smashing Pumpkins

Island in the Sun - Weezer

Wake Me Up - (Wake Me Up When September Ends) Green Day

Bonus: Don't You Know Who (I Think) I AM? Acoustic Album

The first of Ru-kun's unexpected - and according to Makoto, utterly unplanned - acoustic albums, this bonus LP was met with delight and excitement from fans after Ru-kun had teased its release on Twitter. The intimate and personal nature of the simplistic mixing gave this album a cult following, and brought in a new segment of music fans that No Scrubs' music normally didn't appeal to.

Nobody Puts Baby In the Corner - Fall Out Boy

Grand Theft Autumn - Fall Out Boy

My Heart is the Worst Kind of Weapon - Fall Out Boy

Notion - Rare Occasions

No Such Thing - John Mayer

Bonus: Take (Me) With a Grain of Salt

Despite the critical acclaim this acoustic album (and the full band versions eventually released afterwards) it was met with a lot of incendiary response at the time of its release. No Scrubs had finally achieved global stardom and was regularly topping hit charts across the world with the release of their album Infinity on High - and while music critics unanimously praised the EP as a worthy contender for Album of the Year, it was generally acknowledged truth that the album's popularity was owed in no small part to lead singer Ru-kun's sudden infamy that coincided at the same time.

The unfathomable depths of Ru-kun's new celebrity status in parallel to the band's brand of off-label, anti-establishment themes created friction within the fanbase. Many accused them of taking advantage of the current media coverage to promote sales, which bassist and band leader Makoto clapped back as 'just doing smart business'. In general, consensus was positive towards the sentiment; capitalizing on Ru-kun's fame and releasing an album in parallel to his identity reveal was just genius marketing.

However the timing of the release of Ru-kun's second acoustic album kicked up the discourse once again, with fans decrying the release as 'a fake sellout' aimed to exploit current gossip trends. However the album's drop was sudden and unexpected - with little to no pre-release marketing - lending credence to the narrative that Ru-kun wrote this album under the emotional duress of his personal life at the time.

Due to the staggering popularity of the acoustic album, the band eventually recorded and released a B-Side with full band versions.

Disenchanted - MCR

Stay Together For the Kids - Blink-182

Iris - Goo Goo Dolls

How's It Going To Be - Third Eye Blind

All These Things That I've Done - The Killers

#fic may death never stop you #music recs #mdnsy art

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k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9 · 2 months

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Metallica - Attitude

#Metallica #Reload #Attitude #Release date: November 18th 1997 #Full-length #Genre: Hard Rock (mid)#Lyrical themes: Corruption Death Life Internal struggles Anger War #USA

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stayandot8 · 1 year

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A Case of Friends and Lovers

Genre: Fluff

Relationship type: best friends to lovers

Important Contents: Thank you @bangtanmix73 for the idea 😙😙

WC: 6.1k

masterlist

Chan became my friend in the third grade.

Mrs. Yoon’s class was tough enough. A tall, slender woman with her black hair streaked with the gray of her years of experience with us youngins. Constantly dressing like she was stuck in the 80s with her long skirts and her turtlenecks, she was a no-nonsense kind of lady, which wouldn’t have been the ideal kind of teacher for third graders if you asked me. If she peered over her glasses at you, you knew from her beady eyes that you wanted to never be the subject of that gaze ever again. As the “talker” of the class, she sat me next to Chan, the quiet and good one, in hopes that he would encourage me to behave like him. Unlucky for her, her plan backfired. I instead opened him up and brought him out of his shell to his own demise. The first time I got him into trouble was still burned into my mind.

Mrs. Yoon was droning on and on about something called fractions and I had had just about enough of her voice for the day. My worksheet long since forgotten on my desk, I leaned over the aisle to poke Chan in his side rather hard and quickly sat back straight, my eyes back to the front in case the mean lady was watching. Chan yelped and pursed his lips to the side in fake anguish. I would continue to see this look a lot over the course of our friendship. Mrs. Yoon heard his squeal and glared at him.

“Mr. Bang, do not interrupt my class.” Her angry eyes were enough to make Chan’s face burn bright like a tomato. I couldn’t help but snicker as he apologized. He didn’t sit next to me at lunch that day. It wasn’t until I brought him the prettiest rock I could find, a smooth, round, white stone with dark spots to look like the moon, that he finally spoke to me again, all forgiven. That was the longest we had ever gone without speaking.

Chan became my best friend in the 6th grade.

We were walking down the cold hallways, the stench of rubber erasers and preteens still learning about deodorant forcing its way up my nostrils. It was an effort not to scream daily in those hallways, children screaming every direction you looked. This particular day was the day my period decided to rear its ugly head for the first time. It wasn’t like I didn’t know it was coming, my female friends had gotten theirs fairly recently so they had prepared me for what was to come. What I didn’t expect was for it to be quite so…. messy.

It was a very normal conversation we were having, about how his mom had gotten his lunch mixed up with his sister’s again, when I felt it; a sudden gush coming from between my legs. I stopped mid-step, kids shoving my shoulders as they kept moving. Chan had stopped a few steps ahead, just realizing that I wasn’t by his side anymore and turned back with a confused look. And then those kids started looking at me to find out why I had stopped walking, that was when the laughing started. And the pointing. I had my first panic attack that day, under the cruel eyes of everyone in that hallway.

Chan rushed to me, seeing the tears and panic in my eyes and quickly took off his jacket to tie it around my waist. He grabbed my shoulders and rushed me to the nurse. He followed me around all day to make sure no one else laughed or pointed or stared. And when someone even glanced at me with what he deemed the wrong way, he would shout at them.

“And what are YOU looking at, huh?”

They would quickly find something else much more interesting to look at and rush past us. Chan would nod at his job well done and continue whatever we were talking about, trying his best to get my mind off of this sudden change. That day we had some of the weirdest conversations we had ever had, him pulling every bizarre subject he had in his arsenal to shock me into talking about it. It was a very effective method and became a fallback in the years to come.

Chan became my secret crush in 10th grade.

It was my birthday and while my mom was a good mother, she sometimes just got too busy with her work to pay enough attention to what was going on around her. This particular birthday she forgot about. I had gotten to school and looked for Chan but he was nowhere to be found until lunch period. I was sitting by myself with my headphones in, listening to my own personal curated playlist by my one and only best friend when the doors to the lunchroom flew open and a slew of balloons were pushed through them, everyone turned to stare at the loud bang. I wondered who could possibly be coming through the doors and assumed it was for some sort of prom proposal or something. I turned my attention back to my chips and was putting one in my mouth when I looked back up to the collection of helium when I saw who was attached to them. My chewing paused and I took out my headphones.

Chan was beaming as he scanned the lunchroom and locked eyes with me. That was when I realized the balloons had ‘Happy Birthday!’ written on every. single. one. He sprinted as safely as he could without tripping over to my table, a small cake and a fast food bag in his hands along with a bright pink gift sack. My jaw dropped. I felt like my eyes were going to pop out of my head.

“Happy birthday!” He yelled as he drew closer. He set down the cake, balloons, and gift bag to throw his arms around me and suffocate me with his love. I couldn’t help my grin as he let go, his own smile infectious like always. He sat down, grabbing the food bag and laying out a nice spread in front of me.

“Is this why you’re late to school?” I giggled as I put my home lunch back in my lunchbox.

“Well duh. I couldn’t let you get away with going unnoticed on your birthday. I had to get the best for my girl!” My heart fluttered in a way I hadn’t noticed before when he said that. My veins sang as the butterflies took a hold in my stomach and remained there.

We had our lunch as the rest of the school watched, people wondering what the balloons were for when their friends explained it to them in hushed whispers. They weren’t there as far as I was concerned. All I could see was him.

That’s also when other girls started to notice him.

Chan became distant in college.

He had started dating and I hated all of the other girls that weren’t me. He always wondered why his girlfriends and I never got along, not one of them. He only saw what they wanted to see, them putting on their sweetest, most perfect facade for him as I glared at them from the sidelines. Our friendship started to suffer too.

I couldn’t blame him for wanting to be the perfect boyfriend. I just wish he would’ve realized he didn’t have to try so hard for them. He was perfect the way he was. None of them were worthy of him anyways. It annoyed me to no end how hard he would try for them while they took it and never gave it back to him like I could have. They simply weren’t good enough for him.

He hated it when I told him that. The conversation would always start the same. He would bring up some petty argument they were having and I would try my best to be objective for him, but it was so hard. It was simply that all of the fights he ever had were always the girl’s fault, either demanding he spend more time with her or do more for her or that he was too much work for them. I would make this point and he would retort with a way that it was somehow his fault. HIS fault that she felt this way. That he needed to be better. I would say it wasn’t his fault, he already spent so much time with her. We disagreed every time. I was surprised he couldn’t tell that I was in love with him. He was oblivious when it came to me. But his friends weren’t.

Feix questioned me first but Minho was the first to break me. He got me intoxicated and asked me one too many questions and the beans came tumbling out in a drunken babble. In front of all of his friends and God herself, I wouldn’t shut up about how I missed his laugh, his smile, and his hugs. The boys just looked at each other awkwardly, taking turns trying to comfort me in their own ways. Minho tried to tell me Chan’s poor qualities, walking around naked all the time, he worked too much, he never bought anything for himself. But these were all qualities I already knew and loved about him. Seungmin was just calling him old and ‘why would you want someone so close to old age in the prime of your life’ and such things. I wasn’t much younger than Chan so in reality, he was also calling me old. He ran out of things to say after that, not wanting to put his foot in his mouth any more than he already had. Jeongin and Hyunjin offered to take me shopping the next day, which I took them up on. Hyunjin pat me on the back gently and grimaced. Changbin just tried to tell me that exercise was the cure for everything. That earned a glare from everyone, to which he just shrugged and looked away sheepishly. I thanked him for his suggestion. He meant it in earnest. Han took my mind off of it, offering his best controller to play video games with him all night long. And when I had successfully beaten Han enough for him to admit defeat, Felix followed me to bed and just cuddled me until the heavy weight on my chest had lightened.

Every time we fought about his girlfriends’ issues with him, it was always on the tip of my tongue. It was always ‘Just talk to her, try to work it out’ instead of ‘I wouldn’t treat you like that.’ It was a laborious effort, keeping all of the emotions inside. I would feel the build-up when he was in between girlfriends, he would get more touchy with me, no longer under a watchful eye or a guilty conscience. I could feel myself begin to tell him my feelings and then another girl would pop up and they would last too long that the moment was over. But I was always the one he ran to when he had problems. And they hated that.

The first girl that had a problem with how much time he spent with me didn’t last long after that. But after the third girl, he noticed that it was maybe not just a single issue. So I saw less and less of him when he was involved. Then she appeared a year later.

She was everything I was not. She was popular, beautiful, and just cool. She still didn’t deserve him though. I hated that I could tell she did care about him a little more than the others but not enough it seemed. She became obsessed with the idea that he would cheat on her with me. Eventually she convinced herself that he did. That was a particularly hard fight for him to get through. He came over afterwards and explained it to me, that he couldn’t spend more time with me if he wanted to keep her, so that was it. I haven’t seen him in a while.

That was a couple months ago. I’m in my own apartment now, reading my book far too late into the night again. The pounding at my door broke me of my trance and I scurried to open the door to see Chan, his curly hair a little wild and his eyes rimmed with red.

“She cheated on me.”

His voice was hoarse, like he hadn’t used it in a bit. I opened the door further to let him in but he just fell into my arms, his emotions hitting him harder. I hugged him closer, closing the door behind him. He fell to his knees in the hallway and brought me down with him. We stayed this way until his sobs turned to sniffles. My only form of comfort was rubbing his back up into his hair. When his breathing slowed enough for his strength to return to his legs, I nudged him up to bring him to my couch where I left him only long enough to make him something to drink. I decided tea was the way to go, alcohol no good for him in his current state. He simply stared blankly at my coffee table, his silence scarier than yelling. I nudged him with the mug and he took it, letting it warm his hands. I sat beside him gently, letting him talk if he wanted to. When he didn’t, I asked the only question I would dare about the subject.

“Do you want to talk about it?” His eyes still looked blank. His mind was elsewhere. I didn’t think he heard me and I was resigned to stay quiet when he shook his head. I could only nod faintly, finally looking him over fully for the first time in months. His eyes were tired aside from their current puffiness and his clothes smelled like him a little too much, as if he’d been wearing them a little too long.

“Do you want to sleep here? You’re more than welcome to.” I said quietly, hoping he would take me up on it. I could feel my body yearning to be closer to his natural warmth but I stayed where I was, not wanting to invade his space just yet. He nodded slowly, his mug remaining untouched by his beautiful lips. I had forgotten…

“Do you want to sleep on my bed? I can take the couch.” He leaned to place the cup on the table in front of us and he grabbed my hand. He stood, forcing me to move from my spot as he led me back through my own bedroom door. He only dropped my hand to land face first on my pillow. I couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped my lips. The way he fell was just a little comical, like a cartoon almost. Luckily I had been in my pajamas for about an hour now so I just turned off the light and climbed in next to him, still not touching him. I was too keenly aware of every breath he took, every small movement he made. He turned his head to face me, still stomach down. His eyes bleary, he took a breath in as if he was about to speak. And it was taking all of his strength.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered the words I didn’t need, but craved anyway. I shook my head.

“Don’t worry about it. Just sleep right now, okay?” He nodded, closing his eyes.

“Don’t leave me.” Never. I tentatively pushed a strand of hair out of his eyes, testing his limits of the moment. He didn’t shoo me away. In fact, he hummed in contentment. His breathing slowed to even draws and gave me the opportunity to really look at him. I thought with these months apart my feelings would die. I should’ve known better. If they could survive college, they would unfortunately survive anything. Simply looking at him was enough to bring them back to the surface in full swing. Maybe this is my opportunity. This time I’ll tell him, I promised myself. Maybe when he’s better.

“I love you.” I whispered, just loud enough for me to hear.

I woke up before him the next morning. I felt more than saw the arms around my waist, the leg intertwined with mine. My heart broke slightly as I untangled him from me, moving off the bed as slowly as I could so as not to wake him. He didn’t, simply rolling over, remaining in his slumber. I watched him sleep, the crease between his brows a cause for concern. I tore myself away and exited back to my kitchen. I didn’t know how hungry he would be, so I figured I could always make more if he wanted. As the waffle iron was warming, I heard his shuffling coming down the hall. I kept my back turned to give him a second to breathe and collect himself if he wanted to. When he crept up beside me at the counter, I gave him a half hearted smile and weak ‘hi’, still unsure of his mood. I thought I still knew how to read him, but he had changed so much in these past months, I found it harder than I remembered.

“I didn’t know how hungry you would be so I was preparing for the worst.” He simply nodded, turning to the coffee pot. He started it up and returned to the couch he was on the night before. He turned on the TV to the morning news. I got the feeling it was just for background noise.

Once the waffles and coffee were done, I put on my best display of domesticity. I brought him his own plate, which he scarfed down. I talked about anything but the one thing I was dying to ask about. He merely nodded along until a particularly awkward silence hit us.

“I’m running out of subjects here, Chris.” No response. Another long pause.

“She broke up with me a while ago. I’ve spent the past couple months trying to get her back but it wasn’t working. She finally told me why. She slept with some guy back near the end of our relationship. Didn’t even remember his name.” He got quiet again. Then uttered the few words that consistently broke my heart for him. “I don’t understand what I did wrong.”

“Not everything is your fault though.”

“I had to have done something for her to do that. Why else would she have done it?”

“Some people don’t need reasons.” It was the only response I could think of. He shook his lowered head.

“It didn’t make sense. Nothing made sense. So I ran to the only place I thought of. I’m sorry I barged in on you like this, I didn’t know where else to go.” He finally looked me in my eyes, I could see his apology in the gleam between blinks.

“It’s okay, really. You’ve clearly been busy.”

“But you’ve done nothing to deserve me ignoring you for so long. And then to just show up here? Out of nowhere? I’m sorry, I should go.” He started to rise, eyes, aiming for the door. I panicked, not knowing when the next time I would see him would be. I lunged for his arm, grabbing it tightly. He jerked, but didn’t pull away, looking back at me. Those same apologies still in his eyes.

“You don’t have to go. I promise, it’s okay. I’m just happy to have you back. No matter the circumstances.” His shoulders fell in relief as he sat back down. He gave me his best smile, which was only a sliver of what I knew it could be. It still made my butterflies jump.

“I don’t deserve you.”

Boy, you have no idea…

That was a few weeks ago. He still wasn’t completely over the betrayal, but he was slowly getting better. He showed up to my apartment regularly, just like before. We would talk about everything but that night. And when he got particularly down on himself, I would drag him out with all of his friends to take his mind off of it. Being of the legal drinking age had its perks.

This particular night, he had been the one to initiate it. He texted the entire group asking which bar we wanted to start on our pub crawl for the evening. We knew what that meant. If it was a club night, he just wanted to forget the day. If it was a club crawl, he wanted to forget the week. But an actual pub crawl, something had to have happened. Minho was always ready with a suggestion. He knew all the best spots in town. And walking through the doors of our first stop of the night, everyone could tell Chan was ready for the night to begin.

“Let’s gooooo!” He shouted at the top of lungs, approaching the bar and smiling at the bartender, a short woman with enough cleavage to make a porn star jealous. I respect the hustle of it, but did he have to smile at her like that? He flashed one of his famous grins that reached his eyes, which she of course returned. It was hard not to.

“What can I get you, sweetie?” She wiped down the glass in her hand with the rag in the other, used to the shouting of men ready to forget their troubles. Chan leaned on his elbows on the bartop and cocked his head, ready to charm whoever was a willing victim.

“A round of shots for me and my friends, angel. And make them doubles if you please.” She smiled and nodded, grabbing the bottle from the shelves and nine bigger shot glasses. Chan started to chat with her as she poured, making my fingers go numb. The intense eye contact between them was enough to force my hands into fists. Felix noticed, because of course he did. I was surprised he couldn't hear my raging heartbeat. Thundering so loud in my ears I could barely hear what he was whispering to me. I felt his warmth bear me as he said

“Don’t take it too close to heart, you know he does this when he needs to release.” That didn’t stop the chill down my spine though. I wanted to deck the poor girl. She had no idea who I was or what I was going through. But if she laughed at one of his stupid jokes again…

Chan grabbed the tray of shots and winked at her, making her blush. God damn it.

“Relax. He’s not going home with her.” More whispers in my ear. I couldn’t place the voice until Seungmin gave me a shy smile, nodding in encouragement of his words. I nodded back, trying to breathe as we all followed Chan to a table near the shadows of the back of the place. Seungmin placed his hand on my back, following my lead and staying close.

Chan was doling out the shots in everyone’s direction, each conversation happening in tandem, the noise level doing the best job of drowning out my own thoughts. I decided to let this night be as much for me as its initiator. We all clinked our glasses together, tapped the table, and downed our shots in one go, Felix coughing a little as he got used to the burn.

“Another round!” Jisung shouted over the noise happening around us.

“I’ll go!” Chan started to walk towards the bar, but Jisung stopped him with his arm.

“Don’t worry buddy, I’ll get this one.” But Jisung’s eyes were on me. I could swear he nodded to me, a small sign of solidarity.

“Was I that obvious?” Hyunjin shook his head a little too quickly to be anything but honest. I grimaced in his direction, sure that everyone would see through any kind of mask I could put on. Well, everyone except the one it mattered for. He was currently balls-deep in a conversation with Changbin about something to do with…sports? Cars? I couldn’t tell nor did I care. Jisung came back quickly with twice the amount of shots as the first round. I shot him a greatful smile, our unspoken plan working. Another round of shots and we were off to the next bar, pulling the same routine until it was evident that Chan had had quite enough when he wouldn’t let go of my shoulder. He hung on my arm like he hadn’t known anything else in his life, clung to me like he had for the first ten years of our friendship. It was like nothing had changed.

“Baby, let’s go to another one down the street. They’ve got the best margaritas on the block.” Baby. It almost made it feel real when he called me that. Like, maybe one day, I could be… I snapped back to the moment at hand.

“I think we both have had quite enough there, mister.” His eyes were drooping, his gaze unfocused. His words were blurring together, all of the alochol he had consumed finally hitting his system. He would be turning into one of two people and I didn’t want to be there if the one that wasn’t the cuddly, kind Chris showed up. Not being quite as drunk as the others, I volunteered to take him home, thinking we had had enough for one night. None of the others were ready to go home as much as I was, so they let me take the invalid home by myself.

The weight of Chan’s body was too much for my single shoulder as we stumbled down the hallway to his apartment. His giggling had turned into a small laughter here and there, which eventually had made him go quiet now. We arrived at his front door, just as I remembered it.

“Chan, where are your keys?” He grappled with his pockets before he giggled again.

“Doormat.” was all that came from his mouth. This mother… His spare key was hidden under the mat.

Once we were inside, he went straight for the couch, sighing as he lay flat on his stomach. I couldn’t help my panting from carrying him up his stairs, my breath the only sound in the room. I leaned on the counter, just watching him as he closed his eyes.

“Chan?”

“Hm?”

“How are you feeling? Anything coming back up?”

“Not yet. Give me a few minutes though, you never know.” A slight chuckle from the man across the room followed by a groan of regret.

“That is true.” I laughed along with him, not feeling great myself. “Come on, let’s get you set up in your room before I go.” I started for the hallway when his head snapped up from his resting place, his eyes now sad and full of something I couldn’t place. I blame it on the alcohol.

“What?” His voice had gone high, cracking. “You’re leaving me? Don’t leave me, you can’t leave me. I’ll have no one left.” I couldn’t tell if he was being serious or not. The words he was saying didn’t make sense in response to what I meant, the fog in my head from the multitude of shots I had clouding every logical thought.

“Huh? I have to go home at some point. I can’t live here with you, Chan. As much fun as that would be.” There was some truth to that, I realized. I could picture it in my drunken mind’s eye and for a split second, it was everything I had ever wanted come alive. A reality that would always be there in another life where I had the guts to say something. And the even rareer chance that he felt the same.

“Ha. That would be fun. You would never have to leave then. You could take care of me all the time.” What I wouldn’t give… He was slow to rise from the couch, I suspected any sudden movement would make his insides turn out. And that was a mess neither one of us wanted to clean up.

“Come on, superstar. Let’s go.” He grabbed another hold around my waist now, his touch more intimate than the one around my shoulder when we first arrived. I tried not to read too much into it. It’s not like it meant anything to him. He was out of his mind, didn’t know what he was doing. We shuffled down the hall to his room, him falling on the bed like he fell on the couch. He burst into laughter into his pillow, my fit of giggles not far behind.

“Why did you fall like that? You looked like a domino.” I sat on his bed at his feet, getting comfortable.

“I don’t know.” His laughter got louder before it died down. What I couldn’t see was his face scrunching up as his own memeories of the day flew together, ready to attack him as soon as he would let them. I wasn’t expecting the sniffles to come. Well, maybe I should have considering how many shots he had.

“Chan?” I said again. A long pause, the air thick with a new sadness.

“I saw her again today.” I knew he was talking about her. I sighed but stayed quiet, afraid of what I would say if I spoke. My words tonight had slipped past every filter I ever had, a new sense of honesty I never had before. Another thing to blame the alcohol for.

“Why didn’t she love me? Why doesn’t anyone love me?” Not a question meant for my ears.

“I do.”

It was barely a whisper. A response to a question that didn’t require one. His retort was too quick for him to realize in what way I meant.

“You have to say that. You’re my best friend.”

“But that’s not how I meant it.”

He was still. I wasn’t sure if he was breathing but I didn’t care. Now was the time. This was the moment. When I had no filters or second guesses. Now would be the time I would spill it all out, everything. Risking our entire friendship in sixty seconds. I could only stare at the wall.

“I’m in love with you. Have been for a couple years now. I hated keeping it from you but I had no other choice. So all those old girfriends were right. Of course, all the other boys know too. Have for a long time. And now that I can face the fact that you don’t feel the same, I can tell you this and I can move on. I can release it. I can let you go. I love you. I am in love with you. And you do not feel the same. And that’s okay.” I took a deep breath, still without the courage to look in the space around his direction. “Because at least now you know and I can start to kill these feelings one by one until I can stomach you being around other girls. Beause it kills me inside when you talk about yourself like that. Every time you and I would argue about your girlfriends complaining to you and you think it’s your fault. It kills my very soul. You are the best person anyone could ever know. They way you make people feel about themselves, they way you make me feel… I’ve never found that in anyone else. Only you. The way you care about me, you make me feel loved.” My shoes were dirty from the path we walked. I would have to wash them when I got home.

“I love your laugh the most I think. It makes me feel whole. I love the little squeak you get when you laugh too hard. It sounds like a door hinge.” I smiled to myself, a sudden sadness as I thought I wouldn’t hear it again after this. Not for a long while at least. “I always get butterflies when you touch me. They started back in high school and they never left. I would always try to hug you when I could, which was good because I knew you liked touchy people. But the more I would do it, the more I craved it. I started to crave you. I never knew I liked attention until I tasted yours. And that was it. I was ruined.” Another sad smile as I stood up. He was probably asleep by now, listening to me drone on and on. I could make it home now on my own, the sudden pouring of the build up of the last however many years finally coming to a breaking point. I was never drinking again. I longed for some fresh air, this room suddenly too small. My hand had just brushed the door handle, ready to leave the dream I had held onto for so long in this room, in this moment for good. My life’s sustainment, the only reason I had bothered to come this far. To leave it all on the table for it to be brushed under a rug, never to be looked at or mentioned again.

Until I heard it.

“And what if I love you too?”

It was so quiet, I thought I had imagined it.

“You don’t mean that like I want you to.” I opened the door further, certain that I didn’t want to hear his next words.

“But I do.” The grip on my heart, my veins, tightened. There was no way.

“But-” I turned slowly, still not sure if I was dreaming. But if I pinched myself, I wouldn’t get to see how this dream would play out. “What-” I couldn’t think of any words. I could only shake my head in disbelief. “You can’t be serious. You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Look at me. Please. And tell me if you think I dont know what I’m saying.”

I looked, really looked at him, for what felt like the first time. Into those eyes that held nothing but clarity and truth. And I felt like I was falling into them all over again.

“I don’t believe you. I can’t. I don’t believe this is actually happening to me right now.”

He sat up to lean against his headboard, head lolling to the side, no doubt feeling heavy.

“You know that box I keep by the front door for my keys? Have a look inside. If you still don’t believe me, you can call Changbin and tell him he has a free pass to hit me as hard as he can.” On shaky legs, I raced as quickly as I dared to the front door, eyeing the little wooden box, just big enough for keys and…

A small, round, white stone. With dark spots. To look like the moon.

I cradled it, afraid it would break or disappear if I blinked. I simply stared at it, unaware that Chan had crept up behind me on silent steps. I felt his eyes on me a second later.

“Why did you keep it?” My voice was as shaky as the rest of me, still coated in disbelief that the one thing I wanted more than anything could actually be mine.

“Because that was when it started. I’ve been yours ever since.”

I felt myself turning to face him, still locked on the stone in my hand. I heard him come closer, tilting my chin up to look him in his beautiful eyes. Open for me to see every wonderful thing he had ever thought of me, the warmth inviting me in to stay forever. His hands moved to cup both my cheeks, his body so close I could feel his heart racing alongside mine.

“I still feel like I’m dreaming.” I whispered against his lips, so close to mine. Too close. There was nowhere I could run to, nowhere I could hide from his fire, his want for me. For me.

“Me too.” He whispered back.

And then he kissed me.

He poured everything he was into me, his apologies, his laughter, his sincerity. I threw everything I had at him. My darkest thoughts, my hardest moments, my deepest fears. He still did not budge. He waited for more, wanting, needing everything. Every part of me was his for the taking. My soul was his for good.

It was the feeling of finding money in the pocket of a pair of jeans you hadn’t worn in a while. It was a warm summer night after a day spent with friends, comforting and familiar. It was love, wrapped in your favorite blanket with a warm drink in your hands. He was love, finding me at long last.

He was mine.

No one else’s.

Not back then.

Not ever again.

Only

Mine.

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rataccatak · 8 months

Text

Analysis of how Natalia Zaidova draws Sergey Razumovsky

Or: trying to justify a thirstpost about the world's most terrible man

Sergey's gone through a number of artists through the years, and I gotta say, Natalia Zaidova's rendition has captured my heart. In fact, it was a screenshot of Natalia's Sergey that first got me into Major Grom. While Phob's is the official art style that we associate with the comics, Natalia's style, I believe, better serves Sergey's character in the current PD run.

Genre-wise, PD returns to being a big-action, ensemble comic, which--compared to The Game's tight conflict and human drama focus--deliberately implements Natalia's more traditionally comic-book style to this effect. The first arc (nine volumes in total) of PD are all Natalia; though the current issues are being outsourced to a number of different artists now, Natalia's style--with its roots in distinctly American superhero comics, such as DC--was what they wanted to prime audience's expectations with. After Time of the Raven, there was a big push for Bubble to adhere their stories to big names like Marvel, and with that came the desire to usher in things like a multiverse, space and supernatural elements, and franchise crossovers. Plague Doctor was one of their latest installments of that new "culture," and they had to match their aesthetics appropriately.

Okay, but that brings me back to the brainrot part of this post, which is HOT DAMN NATALIA'S SERGEY LOOKS SICK???

The whole idea of Plague Doctor is that, for like seven years or something, Sergey has been declared dead or missing or otherwise MIA. Nobody, both in-universe and irl, knows where he is or what the fuck he's up to. You crack open issue 1, encounter a guy in sunglasses and a hat who is painfully obviously Sergey, but you get to the last page and

(I will say this is probably the most unflattering frame of him. His chin makes him look like such a chad derogatory)

BAM. HOMEBOY IS ROCKING A NEW HAIRCUT, HE'S WEARING ANOTHER STUPID PURPLE SUIT, HE'S RIPPED, AND HE HAS BLUE EYES.

This isn't the soft, sort of angelically beautiful Sergey we're used to seeing from Phobs. It's radically different, an entirely different character almost, which was the intent.

His new look is more practical, both tactically and socially. His hair is cut, so people won't recognize him as easily. It won't get in his face or get grabbed during fights, and combined with his more muscled build, this is a Sergey who's taking things more seriously this time around. Gone is the flamboyant cape and swishing fiery locks; the plague doctor campaign is no longer a passion, but a duty. And he's ready to enter the thunderdome and get his hands dirty and god damn it, he will die trying.

Natalia does take care to preserve the core elements of Phob's Sergey, while making a hard left into traditional masc territory. He's still unrealistically attractive, in that distinctly soft and youthful way. He's more noticeably fit but still maintains a slim, smooth appearance.

But on top of that, she adds this charm and charisma to him that is distinctly boyish (as in, young and mischievous, a pretty face that's up to no good). It makes his persona as a young, leftist radical more believable; he looks like a student revolutionaire, angry and passionate about all issues topical and trending.

He does look more obviously aged. Guy is now in his mid(?) thirties, and the past five years probably amounted to like three lifetimes of stress, so it certainly makes sense. Compared to how Natalia drew The Game Sergey, his face is more defined with sharper lines, muscularity, and wrinkles. The short hair also ages him somewhat, making him look less angelic and more like... a regular dude.

And of course, there's the overnight peach fuzz.

The more mature, aged look helps him actually look like a person who's lived a life as loaded and fucked up as Sergey's. He's a guy whose parents died, grew up in foster care, became a CEO that rocketed to stardom in five years, committed the most elaborate fucked up terrorist campaign ever, and then immediately fell from fame to the deepest coldest cell in St Petersburg (and this is all just the OG Major Grom run). He's not Phob's Sergey (or Rag, whoever it was in The Game)--a blameless childish pretty boy who's detached from his crimes. Natalia does a good job in making Sergey have this subtle undertone of... unsettled, unhinged, what have you. I don't know how much of this is hindsight bias, but he looks like a guy with a fucked up secret. You wouldn't think twice if you were seeing him in a grocery store or something but I can imagine later recognizing his mugshot on the news and thinking wow now that i think about it, he really does look like a serial killer.

And let's talk about his fashion. For all the features of Sergey's flamboyant costumes in Phob's renditions, Natalia dresses him quite casually, and it works, ironically, to make him look deceptively plain in the way all extremely rich people dress (think of the $10k white t-shirts and sunglasses get-up all rich men wear). He dresses like his current social stature: a new-money sod who has gotten used to his wealth enough that he doesn't have to show off with his clothes anymore. Of course, this could also be turned on its head and instead, be an indication of Sergey's original, cheap clothes that he habited from his childhood. Certainly, the ironic rightwing graphic tees Natalia puts him in edge towards that point of view, only now they're colored by Sergey's sense of political humor. I doubt a "god guns government" shirt is selling for $500 at some luxury tailor shop.

This is what I love about Natalia's Sergey. In making him look more human, we get to orient him more organically into our own world. He looks like a thirty year old loser who studied CS in college and now commits cyber terrorism and doesn't know how to cook. He looks like a young adult leftist who is terminally online and has 500+ open tabs on Marxist theory. He looks like a guy who became too rich too young, who was the world's angle and then its devil in the span of like two years, and is now disillusioned with it all, who wears $5 graphic tees and stays up all night looking behind his back and tries desperately to find something that actually matters.

Once Sergey looks more believable, he becomes more understandable. And the more we understand him, the more the story has the potential to make him intrigue and surprise and reach us in multiple, unexpected ways.

#not as expansive as I wanted but I wanted to get The Thoughts out #major grom #plague doctor #sergey razumovsky #bubble comics

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secret-unburnt-guitars · 3 months

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Hi i don't know much abt styx aside from general prog fandom osmosis but kwh has always intrigued me a little bit. Can you explain it in excruciating detail? (genuinely i'm not being sarcastic)

*cracks knuckles*

on february 22, 1983, styx released their eleventh studio album Kilroy Was Here. it was a concept album/rock opera though dennis deyoung likes to call it more of a "rock theatrical experience" in recent interviews. they even made a minifilm they played before the concert!!!! you can find it and the rest of caught in the act on youtube

it was made partially as a response to the rise of the satanic panic in the early-mid 1980s. people started to believe that rock music was evil and hiding satanic messages. the band was targeted by the public when they were accused in particular by the government of arkansas (i think?) of putting backwards messages (called backmasking) in their song Snowblind (the line "i try so hard to make it so" sounded like "satan moves through our voices" to some people. i own a copy of paradise theatre, that track in particular is damaged.).

and then dennis deyoung had a GREAT IDEA!!!!!!!!

imagine a big ol lightbulb flashing over him while the rest of the members of styx watch in mortal dread

so basically the album follows a sort of loose and vague backstory that's somehow still solid enough for people to follow some sort of a plot in their head (which is slightly backed up by Caught In The Act, the designated KWH "concert," which i'll get to in a second). the basic synopsis (paraphrased but still in excruciating detail) is as such:

set in a futuristic chicago(?) rock and roll has been made illegal under code 672 (prohibits the playing and purveying of rock music). Dr. Everett Righteous (played by JY), who was responsible for this, is the leader of the majority for musical morality or the MMM for short. the MMM is one of the strongest organizations in this universe since you know. they literally convinced congress to criminalize an entire genre of music for the entire country. righteous also hosts a television show where he encourages the public to burn guitars and records in a huge bonfire during “nightly rallies”. he also projects himself onto a big triangle over the skyline which i think is fucking hilarious i haven’t been able to get over it

Robert Orin Charles Kilroy (played by Dennis DeYoung, of course he's the title character), was a prolific rock musician at the time of the ban. he was thrown in prison for breaking the law and after being framed of murder. they accused him of bashing an MMM crusader's head in (which he obviously didn't do) after they raided one of his concerts at the paradise theatre. he then goes to rot in prison and is subjected to attempts of brainwashing by the dr. righteous show with the other “rock n’ roll misfits” they’ve arrested. it doesn’t work lol. i don't understand how it would work BECAUSE IT'S NEVER EXPLAINED

the prison kilroy is rotting in is maintained/monitored by japanese import, mass produced robots dubbed the "robotos," hence the title track. ignore how racist they look, it was 1983, this is not my fault

i mildly dislike them but it sucks how they’re essential to the plot ANYWAYS

here comes Jonathan Chance, (played by Tommy Shaw, albeit reluctantly) who is a rebel that is part of a underground resistance (that's only really mentioned once). with his friend, he breaks into some unknown area that is most likely a recording studio and hijacks the live television recording of the dr. righteous show. he proceeds to namedrop himself and then run off

credit to @mccoys-killer-queen for the gifs!!

kilroy sees this happen, which inspires him to attempt to escape the prison. kilroy incapacitates a roboto that visits his prison cell and disguises himself as it so he can escape without being noticed (i do not like the way he does this)

after kilroy escapes, he goes throughout the city and leaves messages for jonathan, leading him back to the paradise theater which is now the Dr. Righteous Museum for Rock Pathology

it's got a bunch of shitty animatronics that include people like jimi hendrix and elvis presley, but at the very back is an animatronic of kilroy repeatedly bashing in someone's head

this is my favorite part of the minifilm which i've basically explained sorry. you see like what you think is another roboto emerge from the shadows, and then it takes off its mask AND IT'S THE ACTUAL KILROY!!!

(this is taken from the live show, the transition is so goddamn dope)

and then dennis deyoung prances around and has his little pick me theater main character moment and sings mr. roboto and dances and stuff it looks so stupid. the live version of mr. roboto is way funnier than the official music video i don't know. i posted it about here before but i love this part in particular

so that's how kilroy and jonathan meet and that's basically the plot of one of styx's most popular songs!! sorry i gave kind of a play by play of the minifilm

now here's the fun part !!!! (unfinished lore/controversy)

unfortunately the reception of this album was less than satisfactory for most people back in '83, since KWH was way far away from the brand that styx had made for themselves in the 70s. they made art rock and prog, but this was just straight up synthpop. some people liked it though. i read somewhere in an article that it "alienated their male audience" and honestly if you're alienated by a little bit of gay pick me theater bs from your favorite band, that's a you problem

caught in the act was the designated "kilroy concert" that styx did sometime in 1983. the concert, however, doesn't give any. depth. to any additional explanations of multiple plot holes present in the story. as much as i love and cherish dennis deyoung he didn't do a very good job at writing this.

caught in the act felt more like a compromise than a show, seeing as the banter after the performance of mr. roboto was very bare? kilroy explains to jonathan that he was framed for murder, and then he goes in depth on the night it happened. "the crowd was totally psyched," he says, and then it goes to JY performing a guitar solo, which leads into the rest of the concert. the entire concert was portrayed as a flashback and gives no real backstory to any of the established characters. and then at the tail end of the concert they get "raided" by the MMM and you watch as an MMM officer murders one of righteous' own followers with kilroy's guitar. they cut back to kilroy and jonathan, they sing haven't we been before, and then kilroy hands jonathan this sick ass glowing guitar, then they perform the world's worst finale. the dance party ending of caught in the act. it sucks. it's horrible. i hate it. also there is no dennis deyoung in the kilroy was here universe lmfao

i'm still grateful for the concert though don't get me wrong!!! amazing concert

if the rest of styx didn't want to rip dennis deyoung apart for making them do this (i recently learned from a manager that DDY made them turn down an opportunity to perform at one of the largest concerts of the 80s, because he was like "but muh kilroy"), i believe songs off the album like High Time and Double Life would have been performed at Caught in the Act. both extremely lore-heavy songs, especially double life. i really wish they played double life. but c'est la vie, i guess.

literally everyone in the band hated dennis' guts so much while they were making this (justified, he was a stubborn asshole during production) but god was it worth it. for me at least. i imagine one of the conversations about production went like

JY: dennis have you considered that maybe this is a bad idea Dennis: i'm gonna make you the villain of the story if you don't shut the FUCK UP

i still think that JY had a little bit of fun though. he was hamming it tf up as dr. righteous i'm sorry you need to watch the mv's which you can find on youtube as well

but unfortunately tommy shaw wasn't having a good time at all, he literally quit on stage and stormed off and styx split for a while bc of this album i mean LOOK AT HIM HE'S SO PISSED OFF

overall this album is both cheese AND corn, worst album i've ever listened to, and yet it's given me a purpose in life. i've written 7,000+ words in one document about this album just to try and fill in the blanks the lore has, it's got so many. it's a running joke on this blog, i really hope you check out the album, because i think it's wonderful and it's endearing regardless of the controversy, it's too late for me. save yourself

#styx #styxposting #kilroy was here #styx band #dennis deyoung #tommy shaw #jonathan chance #dr. righteous #styxblr #robert orin charles kilroy #this took me two days to prepare and write #sorry to everyone else that already knows the story front and back because of me (consider this a refresh)#or to anyone that already knew the story even before me #god i wish i was there to experience it.#i would've died and gone to heaven #i watch the live show and my heart is warmed because i know for a fact that someone in that audience was as insane about this story as i am #and was probably losing their shit in the audience #perhaps it was a birthday gift. or something they had completely given up hope on seeing #also righteous canonically owns a fried chicken brand named Dr. Righteous' Fried Chicken as a play on KFC #i had to stop watching the minifilm for fifteen minutes and go do something else because i was so disgusted by the fried chicken plot point #and DDY milks the fuck out of it in CITA when he goes 'and i was eating that G R E A S Y fried chicken'#the pain and agony #it's so unnecessary #caught in the act #i might be a little ill in the mentally

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