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loverontheleft · 2 months

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Can You Come Over? (Revised)

Brendon x reader

6k words

sex and angst

“Can you come over?” His voice is soft but he can’t hide the desperation there, and the booze isn’t helping either. You wonder why you answered the phone. At this hour, there’s only one person it would—could—be. “Miss you. Please. Will you come over?”

Oh, you think to yourself as he purrs the last part into the phone. That’s why.

“Brendon,” you groan, pressing the heel of one palm into your forehead as you try to be strong. “You can’t—we can’t—you have to stop calling.” He is silent and you almost wonder if he hung up but—no, there’s the soft hitch in his breath that comes after he takes a too-big-slug of whiskey. You hate that you know that. “Brendon?”

“M’okay,” he mumbles into the phone. “M’fine.” You tell him you don’t believe him, and you curse yourself for staying on the phone. Your subconscious is screaming at you to hang up, turn your phone off, and take a sleeping pill before you can be tempted to turn it back on and check on him.

You don’t hang up. You don’t turn your phone off. You don’t take the sleeping pill. You never do.

“Baby, please come over.”

You inhale sharply. “Don’t call—Brendon, you shouldn’t—you can’t call me—”

“M’sorry,” he says, but you don’t believe him. “Really sorry. I’ll never do it again.” That silence and that hitch in his breath once more. “Please. Can’t—can’t take—I can’t take another night in this bed without you here. Miss you. Your laugh. Your smile. Your touch. Your kisses. Your… ” He’s still going but you’ve tuned him out desperately. Funny that he only feels this way after a full bottle of whiskey, you think to yourself, trying to temper the lust pooling in your stomach.

“Need my girl.”

You freeze. You close your eyes. You know the pattern by now. You know what’s coming next. You could time it. You do. He sighs your name once and then…silence. Ten…nine…eight—Hitch. Seven…six…five—You’re done for. He’s got you, and he knows it. Four…three— You brace yourself. Two…and one.

“Need my Kitten.”

“Five minutes,” you tell him, hanging up without waiting for his response, loathing yourself the entire time.

-||-

He’s shirtless, leaning on his front porch railing, hands clasped around the near-empty bottle as he waits for you. His hair is a mess, and he hasn’t shaved in easily three or four days. You take all of this in as you pull into his driveway, slamming the car into ‘park’ before throwing your door open. He’s stumbled down the porch steps, bottle abandoned, and you fall into his arms, flailing a leg behind you to kick your car door shut.

His mouth is on yours as his hands clutch at you. You cling to his back, the smoky taste on his lips telling you he’s moved to the good liquor. You’ve always loved the taste of good bourbon on his lips. He drags you inside and pushes you up against the now-closed front door.

“Missed you so fuckin much,” Brendon moans as he tugs at your shirt. You raise your arms and he pulls it off over your head, flinging it somewhere. He makes quick work of your bra now—“thas’nice,” he slurs as he drops the lacy piece you changed into before leaving the house. “Real pretty, Kitten. My pretty Kitten.” He’s kissing your neck now, his hands sliding lower to press you to him. “My pretty Kitten,” he repeats, suckling at the spot behind your ear and making you moan. “Does Kitten wanna gota bed?” The words hit you hard and you’re sent reeling; you fight to stay in the moment but you can’t fend off the memories.

“Does Kitten want to go to bed?” He’s smiling at you teasingly and you purr playfully, batting at his shoulder. “Does Kitten like her nickname?” You nod and crawl up into his lap, kissing his neck. “Yeah?” It’s early in the relationship and things still feel new and exciting; this new nickname is particularly delightful to you though. You want him to call you that while he fucks you, you think, blushing. “Prettiest girl, my Kitten,” Brendon murmurs, brushing his thumb over your lips. “My pretty Kitten likes the nickname?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, rocking in his lap a bit and sucking gently. “So fucking hot.” He grins and says he’s glad; he wasn’t sure if you’d like it or not. “Love it. Didn’t know how much I loved it til I heard it.”

“Mmmm,” he makes a soft sound of agreement, hands moving all over your back and hips, pulling you closer. “My girl is so fucking hot, so it’s a good name for her then.” You giggle and shriek, clinging to his shoulders when he stands up; he locks his hands under your thighs so he can carry you into the bedroom. “Love my Kitten,” he murmurs in your ear as he places you on the bed and crawls up over you.

“Kitten loves you.” You preen under his attention but pout after a moment. “You need a nickname, too!” You point at him accusingly. “You can’t call me Kitten if I don’t have something to call you.”

“What do you want to call me?” He grins and rolls off of you, arms behind his head as he stretches out in his bed. You curl towards him, running a hand over his stomach and teasingly brushing over his erection through his sweatpants. “Call me anything you like, Kitten.”

“Mmmmm,” you purr, kissing his shoulder. “You gonna call me Kitten all the time or only when I’m being a bad girl for you?” He asks if it makes a difference and you laugh, nodding. “If it’s all the time, that’s one thing. If it’s only when I’m misbehaving in fun ways, then I need something to call you that’s more…submissive,” you say with a giggle.

“I was going to call you that all the time, I suppose…” Brendon murmurs. “I mean, I’ll call you other things too. But Kitten…that’s special.” He grins and you smile up at him. “Call me anything you want, honey.”

“Well, now I don’t know!” You say, laughing.

“Call me Sir,” Brendon suggests with a broad smile. “What do you think of that, Kitten?”

“I think,” you whisper, kissing his neck, “that it’ll go straight to your head if I call you Sir.” You both laugh, and your hand creeps lower to stroke him more firmly. “Or maybe straight to your dick…” you murmur, grinning. “So in that case…yes Sir.” You both groan when his cock throbs in your hand and he rolls over, kissing you hard.

“So sexy, Kitten.” Neither of you speaks for a while after that; his lips are moving down your neck and yours are tight around two of his fingers, sucking teasingly as he moves lower and lower to lap at one of your nipples longingly. When you cry out in pleasure, he nods approvingly and closes his mouth around the bud, rolling it with his tongue. You whimper around his fingers in your mouth, letting your tongue rub over and in between them.

“Does Kitten wanna gota bed?” You nod, realizing he must have repeated himself, and back him up towards your—his, you correct yourself. It’s just his bedroom now. He lets you push him down onto the mattress and watches you through heavy lids as you wiggle out of your jeans and underwear.

“Off,” you tell him, nodding at his sweatpants. “Off.” He nods urgently and shoves them down his thighs; both of you audibly reacting to his erection, now unencumbered by fabric. He seems to be sighing in relief while you’re biting your lip and whimpering. “Don’t wanna waste time,” you whisper, kissing him hard again and hovering over him so you can guide his cock right where you need him. “Oh fuck,” you gasp, clinging to his shoulders and squeezing your eyes shut.

“Lemme,” he mumbles, shifting so he’s over you now. “I’ll go slow: promise.” You whine and cling to him, both legs wrapped tightly around him so you can pull him close. You both cry out as he fills you and you close your eyes, realizing with a sense of pride how long it must have been since you caved and came over if it feels like this. “So fucking tight,” Brendon groans in your ear. “My Kitten’s cunt is always so slick ‘n tight for me; she’s fuckin perfect,” and you moan, tightening your legs to keep him from pulling back to thrust.

“No,” you tell him, chest heaving. “Stay.” Your eyes lock, and he doesn’t hesitate; his mouth is on yours and you’re pulling his hair and rocking back against him. His hands are everywhere, touching and squeezing and holding you close.

“I missed you s’much,” he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. “I miss you s’much.” You shush him, not wanting to get into feelings right now—you’ll cry if he—

“Kitten, my sweet girl,” he manages. “Angel,” and you swear under your breath because he’s pulling out all the stops with the pet names and it’s breaking your heart. “I’m so sor—”

“You broke up with me,” you finally say, cutting him off. He freezes, and you stare up at him, unsure of what comes next. You two don’t talk during sex—not since—“You broke up with me, and you keep calling me and I don’t know what to do about it. I—”

“Please, honey,” he begs, dropping his head to your shoulder. “We don’t have to talk about this now. We can—”

He’s fumbling for the right words, frantic eyes locked on yours. “We can just—”

“Get off,” you mutter, and his eyes get wider. You realize how your interruption sounds like a continuation of his sentence, and you groan. “Get off of me,” you clarify, shoving at his chest. He obeys and falls onto his back beside you. Tentatively, he stretches out an arm to indicate you should come closer. When you do, he tightens his grip around you and you let out a muffled sob, then curse again. You hate crying, and you especially hate crying in front of him. “Stop looking at me,” you tell him in a dull voice.

“How am I supposetado that when you’re the mos’ beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?” He speaks softly, words still slurring faintly, fingers stroking your arm. You close your eyes and try to breathe deeply. Finally, when you’re composed, you tell him he can’t say things like that anymore.

“Why?” He sounds genuinely confused. “That doesn’t have anythin to do with our relationship. It’s just a fact. You’re the mos’ beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and you’re here, in my bed, in my arms. How’m I supposedta stop lookin at you? Why should I?”

“Because,” you snap, raising your eyes to his. You inhale sharply. That was a mistake, meeting his level gaze. He’s always been able to reduce you to a soft whimper with one look. You decide to try again. “Because I shouldn’t be here in your bed or in your arms. Because you ended it and it’s over and yet you’re still calling me and I’m still answering.” You look down, the tears still rolling.

There’s a long silence before his voice breaks the stillness, sounding significantly more sober. “That doesn’t sound over to me. And…even if it is, you know it doesn’t have to be over.”

You don’t respond—you can’t, so you roll away from him and clutch at his pillow, trying to work up the strength to stand up, get dressed, and go home with what dignity remains. He must be able to tell because he reaches out for you. “Kitt—I’m sorry—Y/n, please. Please don’t go. We can do whatever you want. I’ll shut up and do whatever you want. And if you want to go home and never see me again, I—” his breath catches in his throat. “I understand. And I’ll stop—stop calling.”

There’s a sense of resignation and despondent finality to his words and you break, rolling back to him and grabbing at his face and hair as you bring your mouth to his. He immediately responds, both arms hauling you closer as your lips move together. Wordlessly, because he seems to sense that he should be silent now, you shift so you’re under him again, legs spread. While he guides his slick length back against you, his hand cups your face and his thumb moves in soft circles over your jawline. You press your face into his touch and moan, low in the back of your throat, as he fills you.

The sex is rough and unrefined; you’re both moaning and grabbing and clutching and moving against each other, gasping into each other’s mouth and breathing hard. His hips are moving urgently, driving you both closer and closer to orgasm when—you let out a desperate whine as he pulls back and out of you. “Turn over,” he tells you in a hoarse voice. “Turn over,” he repeats. “I remem—I know how you like to be fucked,” he says.

You whimper and flip over onto your hands and knees before stretching out so your chest is flat against the bed and your fingers are curled around the edge of the mattress. You both fall silent again as far as words are concerned; the only sounds are your gasps and his grunts as he holds your hips firmly in his grasp and thrusts hard and fast. You spread your knees wider so you can dip your back down, giving him a new angle and he swears softly as you squeal—he can go deeper, and his fingers are rubbing your clit torturously along with every thrust.

“Oh fuck, oh god, you’re gonna make me come,” you announce in a high, needy voice. “Brendon, please!”

“Be my best girl and come on my cock,” Brendon tells you in a firm voice. “Be my good Kitten, and let me feel your pussy clench my thick cock when I make you come.” His words are too much for you; whereas before they’d push you over the edge to a screaming climax, now they shoot your lust in the foot. With a gasp, your legs go flat and he’s out of you, groaning at the loss. “Honey, you didn’t—”

“You can’t—” you whimper. “You can’t just talk to me like you used—like everything is good. It’s not. Just because I was fucking weak and came over—again—doesn’t mean you can just…” you close your eyes, frustrated. “Brendon, you ended it. You didn’t want me to be your best girl anymore. You didn’t want me to be your Kitten or your Angel or your honey or your baby anymore.” Each pet name comes out with a sense of bitter loss, and you bury your face in his pillows with a soft cry. “You broke up with me and I don’t know why, and I definitely don’t know why I keep coming back when nothing changes. We fuck, and you roll over and go to sleep and I go home and wait—like a goddamn fucking idiot—for the next time you’ll call, hating myself the entire time.”

You’re crying harder now and his hands close over your hips so he can flip you over. Stubbornly, you clutch the pillow to your face even now that he’s got you on your back.

“Y/n,” he says softly. “Y/n, please. Can we talk?” You mumble something and he tugs at the pillow. “Please.”

Something in his voice makes you cave and you let him pull the pillow from your grasp. “I’m the idiot.” His words are simple and yet you can’t process them. You blink at him slowly, and he shakes his head, obviously beyond disappointed in himself. “Y/n, I’m the idiot. I ended it, I broke up with you, because I was afraid of how much I cared for you. I was terrified that I would do something stupid like ask you to mar—no, fuck, please don’t cry,” he says desperately when your face twists in anguish and the tears flow faster.

He’s wiping at your face delicately with the pad of his thumb, obviously heartbroken at the pain that he’s caused you. “I only meant—we’re still young, and I was sure if I asked you…that, that I’d find a way to screw it up and hurt you. I’m not saying that asking you to—asking you would be stupid; I’m saying that I’m an idiot and I’d find a way to ruin it. I had to protect you.”

“So you broke up with me? You decided to protect me by hurting me and ending it with no explanation?”

He can hear that you don’t believe him.

“I told you I’m an idiot. I thought—I thought you’d find someone else that would treat you right. I thought that I’d find someone else. Someone I’d be okay with hurting—no, that sounds bad—I don’t mean—fuck, I just mean I’m an idiot and I hurt the people I love. And I figured I would never love anyone as much as I loved…love you, so it wouldn’t matter if I hurt them or not. I couldn’t bear to break your heart. So I thought I was keeping you safe by ending it, and it wasn’t until you were gone that I realized I’d broken us both. I tried to be strong; I tried to not call you. But when I started drinking, I just—that first night, I didn’t expect you to come over. And I was so happy you did, but so angry at myself because I knew then that I had done something incredibly stupid in letting you go. I promised myself I wouldn’t call again. I promised I’d let you move on and find someone who would take care of you and wouldn’t hurt you like I had. And I keep breaking my promise. I’m so sorry. Y/n, please. I’m so sorry and I—fuck, I love you so much. I miss you so much.”

It’s too much for you to process. There’s a roaring sound inside your ears, an ocean of frustration and loss and longing, and he’s looking at you with tears in his eyes and you can’t help it; you grab his face and bring his mouth to yours. “You’re such an idiot,” you murmur against his lips, and he moans, nodding. “So do something smart and fuck me,” you finish, and he pulls back to stare at you with wide eyes. “I didn’t misspeak,” you tell him. “You broke up with me but now you say you love and miss me? Prove it.”

He groans and, a hand on either side of your head, kisses you softly before moving his lips down your neck and lower still, kissing gently between your breasts and down over your stomach and hips. You whimper and squirm under his touch, gasping when he nibbles on your hip bones. “Can I—?”

The pause hangs in the air and you’re not sure if he’s leaving an action unspoken or a pet name, but you want him to keep going, and you look at him expectantly.

He must sense this, and he rests his head on your pelvis as he caresses your hips. “Can I eat my sweet Kitten out?”

You inhale sharply—it was both he was keeping silent, and the phrase brings back another memory.

“I just wanna eat my sweet Kitten out,” Brendon murmurs, tugging you down onto the bed and rolling over on top of you. “Please, baby? I’m really good at it,” he adds with an exaggerated wink. “I’ll make my girl feel so good.”

“You’re a unicorn, B,” you tell him with a grin. “Begging to eat your girlfriend out?”

“You know I love it,” he practically whines, thumbs hooked into the waistband of your jeans. When you nod, he lets out a yelp of glee, grinning at you in ecstasy. “Thank you, Kitten. Promise I’ll make you feel so goddamn good.” Together you get your jeans off and he moans at the sight of your lacy panties, dark at the core. “Kitten,” he murmurs. “Who made you this wet?”

“You did, Sir,” you tell him, staring up at him with wide eyes. “You did this to your Kitten. You made Kitten so wet and needy.”

“It had better have been Sir,” Brendon says with a grin, tickling your inner thighs and making you spread your legs. “Because Sir is the one who’s gonna make Kitten come.”

“Please,” you whimper, hips rocking as he kisses all over you, tongue flicking out to tease you.

“Please?” Brendon groans, looking at you with wide eyes. You nod and bite your lip. He mouths “thank you” as he settles between your legs, mouth closing over you and moaning when your legs spread and he can really taste you. “Kitten,” he murmurs, running his hands up your inner thighs and spreading you with his thumbs, licking eagerly. “My sweet, perfect Kitten…”

“Bren,” you whimper, clutching at his hair and tugging, whining and rubbing against his mouth. “Feels so good.”

“Miss you so much,” he whispers, shifting his hand to slide two fingers into you and making you moan. “Miss making you feel like this all the time,” he tells you. “Miss just being able to take care of you whenever I want. Whenever you want.”

“Baby…” Brendon whines, nudging you with his foot from the other end of the couch. “I’m booooooored.” You look up from your book and laugh as he crawls over and rests his head in your lap. “I’ve never been so bored in my life,” he announces dramatically, sighing and meeting your eyes.

“Your life must be pretty hard, my love,“ you tease, flipping the page and ruffling his hair affectionately. “How can I help?”

“Well,” Brendon says briskly as though he’s been thinking about this. “You could let me eat you out.” You look up from your book with eyebrows raised. “I know you’re reading,” Brendon says quickly, grinning. “You can keep reading your book. Just take your leggings off and spread your pretty legs for me.”

Without hesitation, you close the book and fling it onto the coffee table. “What book?”

Brendon laughs as you raise your hips to let him pull down your leggings and panties. “Like I’m really just gonna keep casually reading while you go down on me,” you say with an amused smirk. “You’re crazy.”

“Crazy for you,” he shoots back quickly, dropping onto his knees in front of you and hooking a hand behind each of your knees, tugging you forward to the edge of the couch. “You comfortable, Kitten?” He smiles when you nod. “Good,” he says. “You’re gonna be here for a while.”

“I miss you.”

“I know,” you say breathlessly, closing your eyes and scratching at his scalp. “I know, B.” His tongue goes deeper and your toes curl, gasping. “Fuck, that feels so—” you whine as he keeps going, tongue rubbing and fingers twisting. “Oh baby, you’re gonna make me—fuck! Now! Oh god, now, baby, now!”

You’re shaking and trembling under his touch and he watches you with dark eyes, hair falling into them as you come. You look down and meet his eyes, whimpering at the sight. Hair a mess, lips swollen, cheeks flushed…he’s so gorgeous, and it’s breaking your heart. He kisses your inner thigh and the feeling of his tongue on your skin is overwhelming.

“You called me baby,” Brendon murmurs as you moan softly; he pulls back and smiles at you broadly. “You aren’t—you’re—have you forgiven me?” You look uncertain, and he falls silent, obviously uncomfortable. “I’m sorry Y/n—I shouldn’t have—fuck, I’m sorry.”

“I don’t know if I’ve—Brendon, you really hurt me. You broke my heart.” You take a shuddering breath and shove yourself back so you’re sitting up against his headboard. He looks defeated, so you beckon him closer and he crawls up the bed and sits next to you. Tentatively, he drapes an arm around your shoulder and you sink down, pressed into his side. “You really hurt me.” He nods and remains silent. “I want…what do you want? I want to know what you want.”

Brendon doesn’t hesitate. “I want you. I want a chance to show you how dumb I was and how much I love you.” You exhale hard, burying your face in his chest. “Kitten…” he says tentatively, and you seem to be okay with it—at least, you don’t visibly react, so he keeps talking. “Kitten, doesn’t this just feel right? You being back here, in our bed with me?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, blinking back tears. “I don’t know. It feels good, but I don’t know that good and right are the same thing. You broke up with me—as much as you say you loved me—”

“Love,” Brendon protests, and you bite your lip. “I’m sorry, keep going.”

“As much as you say you love me, you still ended it. You still fathomed a world without me and you didn’t only fathom it, you created it. You actively took steps to remove me from your life, and I know you think you were protecting me, but you hurt me, Brendon. You destroyed me when you left without any explanation. You didn’t hold me when I cried, you didn’t stop me when I moved out, you didn’t do anything until you got shitfaced and called me. And every time you call me and I come over, you fuck me in silence and then lay there, not even looking at me. What am I supposed to do with that?” You’re breathing hard, trying not to cry.

“It’s because I hate myself for bringing you over here and being too much of a coward to ask you to come back. Because I expect you to hate me, and I don’t want to talk and give you a reason to leave. Because for those moments, laying there in silence, feeling you in bed beside me, even though I know it’s only a matter of time before you leave…for those moments, it feels like you’re home. And then you leave, and I fall apart all over again.”

“You…” you brush at your tears furiously. “You don’t know how to communicate, Brendon.”

“You’re right,” he agrees readily, wrapping you in his arms. “You’re absolutely right. I know you’re right, and I know I need to work on that.”

“You shut down and shut me out and expect me to read your mind, and then when I don’t because I can’t, you assume that you’ve hurt me and you retreat further into your own world.”

You’re trying not to be angry now and he can tell; he loosens his hold on you, but it has the opposite effect. “Don’t fucking let go—you always let go when you should hold me tighter. You push me away and give up when you should be fighting for me!”

“I’m fighting now,” Brendon protests and you laugh bitterly, sinking down lower on the bed and resting your head on his lap. His hands stroke your hair tenderly, and you start to cry; you can’t hold it in anymore. “I’m fighting now,” he repeats, voice softer. “Kitten, I’m fighting now.”

“What if it’s too late?” Your voice cracks and you whimper, rolling to press your face to his stomach. “What if there’s nothing left to fight for? What if—” you break off, crying harder now. “What if—” and it’s too much; you close your eyes and try to catch your breath. “What if this is it? What if there’s no point? What if we never—”

“Don’t say that,” Brendon begs, and you can hear the catch in his throat. “Baby, don’t say that. I wouldn’t—you wouldn’t—we wouldn’t keep ending up here like this if there wasn’t a point.” He laughs desperately. “Baby, don’t say that. Don’t—just, let me try.”

“I don’t know,” you whimper. “I just don’t know if it’s—what if it doesn’t work, what will we do then? I just don’t know.”

“I don’t know either, but I do know I can’t bear to see you walk out of that door again. Can’t bear to—” he stops talking and you look up at him, stunned to see the silent tears rolling down his face. “Kitten, I don’t want to lose you.”

“You lost me once; you could do it again,” you whisper. “You did it once. You could do it again. You’d manage. You’d be fine.”

“No,” Brendon shakes his head vigorously. “I didn’t lose you. I let you go. There’s a difference. If I were to really lose you, I wouldn’t make it. We both know you’re wrong. Even now, having let you go, I’m not fine. If I were really fine, if I were really surviving, I wouldn’t get drunk and call you. If I lost you and couldn’t call you, if I knew I’d never see you again—Y/n, I love you. I love you so much. I don’t—I can’t lose you.”

“Dammit, Brendon!” You’re frustrated and you sit up, punching at his chest. “Why are you doing this to me?”

Your punches must be doing something because he grabs both of your wrists and pushes you flat on your back so your head is towards the foot of the bed. Your hands are pinned over your head and he’s kneeling over you, straddling you. “Brendon,” you repeat, your tone very different now. You’re both suddenly aware of how naked you both are; your eyes flick to his erection before moving back up.

“Y/n,” he echoes you, eyes on yours. “You gonna keep punching me?” You shrug as best you can with a wry grin and he chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. “Guess I’ll just have to keep you pinned down, hmmm?”

“Guess you will,” you murmur, wiggling under him. The silence is thick, and you’re both breathing shallowly, staring at each other. You decide to break the stillness of the room. “We��ve always been good at this part,” you tell him. When he looks confused, you explain. “Sex. We’ve always been good at sex.”

“Yeah,” Brendon agrees, leaning down to kiss you lightly. He seems relieved that you’ve found common ground. Your lips brush together and he whispers your name tenderly as you embrace. “We have. We have always been really good at sex.” You rock your hips back as he shifts on top of you. His lips meet yours again as he thrusts into you. “Really good,” he repeats as his tongue teases yours.

“Brendon,” you groan, lurching up to kiss him fiercely as he rocks against you. “Feels so fucking—oh god, Brendon, please!”

“Yes, Y/n,” he murmurs in your ear. “Yes, baby. Want you to feel good.” You whimper and move against him, linking your ankles behind his back for leverage. He’s on top of you and you can each feel the other’s heartbeat. “Tell me you miss this,” he whispers, desperation in his voice. “Honey, tell me you miss this.”

“I do,” you moan, pressing your chest to his. “I do miss this. Oh god, Bren—I’m gonna—right th—oh fuck fuck yes!”

“So come back,” Brendon says softly, watching in awe as you tremble and reach your climax. “My sweet girl, come back to me.” He gasps as you squeeze around him, and he bites your neck lightly, groaning when he comes.

“I can’t,” you finally say, breathing hard. “I can’t just—” you pause and shake your head, taking a shuddering breath. “I can’t. I need—I need time.”

“I’ll give you time,” Brendon promises, closing his eyes and resting his forehead on your shoulder. “I’ll give you all the time in the world.”

“What if I’m never ready?” You whisper, and he sighs, rolling off of you and falling flat on his back. You move with him, curling into his side. “I’m not saying I’ll never be ready, I’m just—I’m scared, B.”

“I’m scared too,” Brendon murmurs, kissing your temple. “I’m terrified to lose you. But I’d rather try again and know I might lose you rather than let you walk out of this door without ever even attempting. We were good, baby. We were so good. And I can be better, which means we’ll be better. I love you.”

“I—” you hesitate and he kisses you softly, telling you that you don’t have to say it yet; he understands. “Thank you,” you whisper as he pulls the blankets up over you both.

“Of course.” His voice is quiet and you turn in his arms, resting your head on his chest as his grip on you tightens.

-||-

When you wake up, he’s sprawled on his back and you’re curled into his side, one arm draped over his stomach. You know what you have to do, and you feel sick.

Your dreams were more like nightmares, and you know that no matter how hard he tries, he’ll never be able to fix this, fix the two of you. He may be ready to try again, but the damage, as far as you’re concerned, has been done. You wish you could find it in you, because you really do love him.

But at some point, you tell yourself, you have to protect your heart. And he is a risk you simply cannot rationalize at this point. It was too much the first time; you’ve been torturing yourself with these late-night trysts— you can’t fathom going through the entire thing again. No, you tell yourself, better to end it now. Better to have loved and lost and attempt to heal than love, lose, and repeat til the brink of insanity. As you crawl from the bed, you keep your eyes on him, not wanting to disturb him. You shake your head and frown. You’re breaking his heart but trying not to disturb him.

The truth of the matter is, he will be disturbed when he wakes up and finds you gone. That cannot be avoided. Gingerly, you crouch and pick your clothes up so you can dress quickly before you tiptoe out of the room. He stirs and you freeze, eyes locked on his body in the bed. The blankets are rumpled and you can see the impression your body left in the sheets beside him. You muffle a sob and turn on your heel, moving swiftly through the house. As you pass through the living room, you see the small notebook he always kept on the end table to jot down his random thoughts that came to him while he watched TV.

You rip a sheet from it and grab the fountain pen you bought him on a whim—it’s his favorite and it always rests beside the notebook. The ink flows freely across the small page, bleeding as your tears fall. When you’re finished, you retrace your steps back and place the note on what was your pillow. You retreat again, trembling from head to toe.

Brendon’s eyes flutter open as your car starts. Confused, he lifts his head and sees the white sheet of paper, a stark contrast against the dark sheets. He sits up and takes it in his hand. I’m sorry. I do love you. Please don’t call me. Take care of yourself.

The ink bleeds more.

#brendon urie #brendon urie smut #brendon urie imagine #brendon x reader #my work #fanfic #he could fuck me any way he wanted #imagine #brendon urie fanfiction #panic! at the disco

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away-ward · 10 days

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Hey ko! I was the anon who talked to you about my opinion of nightfall around two weeks ago ask & ans 256? Anyway, i dont think i have anything much to reply to your answer, i agree with a lot of things you said. And i actually read the bonus rikabanks and wtf? 🤮 i shouldve listened to you!!!!! Wtf? Why do i feel like dn series dont have any couples that will stay together for the rest of their lives? Like? Tbh, i wasnt feeling alexaydin, willemmy was on thin ass because of that bitchass will grayson, kaibanks too on thin ice because of kai fuck that guy- conclave, then michaelrika is so stale? Ngl, they got that sexual tension, but what else?

Unpopular opinion, i actually dont dislike any fmcs in this series except for winter, even rika, i just dont feel much about her tbh. It's insufferable to see these men and women going after her bland ass, but hey wtv. My least fav though would 100% be winter. alex was my #1 hated, but winter was my #1 disliked fmc in the series, but still my dislike for her is lower than any hatred i have for the horsemen tbh. I think it's because both of alex and winter are jjst such self righteous hypocrites, will and kai got on my nerves for the same reason too. when they fucked up, they love to play victim too much, and blame everybody as if their hands are not just dirty. winter's character is just being a useless tool, to be damon's muse and before anyone come after me, winter was not boring because shes blind at all. It's her lack of presence outisde of damon, and her personlity. In general, damonwinter is unlikeable to me. Shes just there, she didnt make any impact to her OWN love story and i hate it, feels like only damon was yearning, and i dont even like damon. Like AT ALL. I fucking hate him, and still think he deserves better than winter tbh.

Funny how out of the four main couples, i actually rooted for damonwinter the least. Even in conclave and fire night, it was always damon taking initiatives, and i hate it, i dont like winter because of this. I dont understand how od got the chance to write a bomb ass character who's disabled and write someone naive, guillible, self righteous, weak, whiny and slut-shaming, like winter. Granted other characters did too, but the way she was described as pure and good but doesnt match up to how she actually was, i was disappointed. theyre the least not romantic to me, besides kaibanks (but kaibanks was because pd didnt know how to write them, and busy putting damon in their story. Outisde of those factors, they got chemistry). I want fmc and mmc to be obsessed and be yearning and work for each other. Damonwinter was giving nothing, because winter made it feel like a reluctant group project, but hey looking at goodreads reviews tell me that maybe its just me. I was so disappointed because everyone was like "you gota keep pushing corruot and hideaway for damonwinter" then when i read it, i was like "huh, why was winter like THAT?" She was so fucking self righteous and annoying. Like she dont gotta a brain or something? Like? Even rika wasnt this gullible. I mean rika WAS very gullible but there was a lot of situations we read where she was only like that because she chose to put it past her since her only aim in corrupt was michael michael michael. As she grew, even though she was still a lot unnecessary, she wasnt insufferable on purpose, but because pd wrote her to be one. Rika's character assassination was not because of herself, but because of pd's writing. Like damon said, half dumb half smart. But winters character was straight dumb. I feel like it's due to bad writing AND her character was born to fluff damon up. Like winter Was so damn stupid, i had to take a break when i read her pov.sometimes stupid? Thats fine, everyone does that in the series (except for the horsemen) but almost all the time? Girl, what? Interesting how damon really always find interest in dumb fmcs, but then he also admitted that thats his personality type, literally the ditzy blonde ones, so hey, maybe misogyny IS the big turn on for these "heroes" huh?

and another thing that i wanna touch on: purity culture of this series. Ohmy fucking god, it was so icky!!!!! Made me hate damonwinter even more. No because why did nobody gave this a trigger warning? I didnt know this going into the series!!!!! Ohmygod! Like for real? Damon always talking about how young and pure the people around him? I get it. Trauma. But goddamn, he romanticised it all the time and never grew out of it! I cannot stand His povs!!! Talking about rika like that, then treating banks like that and touching her ass ohmygod it traumatised me, then babying will and acting like he's a baby, then winter about her young thighs, ruining her and shit like ughhh 🤮 and innocent sleeping winter like she was 12 🤮 like whats with the purity-obsessed with these characters? Rika when she said alex was the purest? Huh? theyre both such dumb no-thoughts-but-only-dicks besties for real. Theyre always so embarrassing together, so shallow, i hate it!! But pd has never had a talent to write good female relationships either, her birthday girl book and fall away series are always fmcs fighting and putting other women down. But she always write all these men bonding with each other and having the best kinds of support system. I hate it!!! Anyway, back to the purity topic, ugh, did you notice this too? I always throw up in my mouth a lil when damon went into emmy's shower stall and talked about will like that, it's so predatory (which again, i know trauma, but idgaf) and weird ughhhhh. But people esepcially willdamon shippers always go awww 🥹 but theyre also damonwinter lovers so i guess purity is really their kink? Idk idc, you like what you like but it still traumatised me!!!! Thank god in emmy's pov i dont have to read much about purity and misogyny. Ughhhhhhh. Like 6 books in the series, and only in nightfall we see the fmc being mostly good to other women, and not the other way around only ughhhhhh. Maybe this was why alex was mad at emmy, among many other possible reasons than jealousy? Because emmy was her first female friend in the group who didnt start her relationship with alex being shit or judging to her from the start? And after everything still good to her? Because shes not to sincerely supportive female friendship like this? Or am i reaching? Because i remember alex's relationship with rika, banks and winter were rocky at first, not like theres a big fight or anything, but their men always use her to pit against their women and their women always looks down on her? Maybe not winter because she didnt know but damon was still implying that alex was only a side hoe. Idk, have you discussed this point here before? I think it's interesting how bare minimum it was, but thank fucking god for emmy for this. I wished she was bitchier and didnt have to always be so kind to people like this, they just always walk all over her while her bitchass guy grayson stood there like a dumbo, never fight for anything. Ughhhhhhh im pissed!!

i think that's the only thing i got in mind after ask and answ 256.

anyway,

and i just read your conversation with anon about emory's lack of background and ohmygod, it just came to mind that wow, emory's back story is really the most mysterious, huh? And not in a good way, but in a bad author-really-dgaf way. Like, damn? We really dont know much about emory? I'd like to think she dated and all, but the relationships were not impactful enough to change nightfall. But i still dont understand, why tf does pd's mmc always be so obsessed of being overly fond of other women in their story? Like? Will and alex? Why is pd always so obsessed with this? But the women always stay virgin or not a hoe, again, pure! Ughhhhh purity!! Men can have fuck buddies and girl bff (kai, will) but girls got called out and lashed out for being close to men while their men didnt give a fuck about how they feel (kai with damon, lev and david and prety much any men in banks vicinity, wil with damon, aydin and any men emmy hooked up with while being #1 whore himself). The hypocrisy and double standard!!!! Adding another reason in my list to hate kai and will. No bcs it's easy to hate characters like michael, damon and aydin from the get go because theyre shit and they know it. But hypocrites like kai and will? They always get babied by female readers and i hate it!!!! Cant pd write just one book with fmc who's not a pure virgin with big bad sccary guy who treats her like shit? Ughhhhhhh did i say how much i hate the purity concept in her stories?

Now, another one that i got angry about after thinking about emory's lack of background story: pd had the time to make up that Aaron Palmer Fane name for Rika's baby, combining alex and will's name, and the middle name of Torrin (girl version of torrance) for one of willemmy's daughter, and Fane for damon's son, but she can't give the same energy for emmy's story, and banks' closure? Like those babies literally only came not until later, but they got their spotlights? I'm so pissed off! Uggghhhh like if pd was so obsessed with alex and will, why cant they just write them together? This is the case where authors wrote too much of unnecessary side characters and fans start siding with them instead of the fmcs. And then pd's say shit like "oh i planned this, you just dont understand". No her writing and planning was just whack, period. She shoudve hyped up emmy from the start in every single book. For one fact about alex, give emmy 3-4 extras. How the hell do you even plan your stories like this? Who's the main character now, im so angry! We literally got a scene of alex and will on a bike, but not willemmy? Got a scene of alex in willemmy's bed, but not willemmy hanging out? Even their godzilla movie date after was glossed over. Dont even mention the cove burning scene. Unpopular opinion, I understand the point of her being locked up and will's thought of it, but again, why is alex with him? Ughhhhhhhh im angry!!!!!!! And why the fuck is will so fucking bad at setting boundaries? And when willemmy talked in the carfax room, they prob did talk about boundaries, no? So why no scenes of that? Because pd didnt find that interesting? But will giving alex's cheek a sloppy kiss at the cove, howling like dogs and looking into each others eyes saying theyre mirrors are interesting? Interesting to whom? Ughhhh

another thing, i read on goodreads/ pd's website that the characters' birthdate were never something that she thought too much off until the story got published them and fans asked for them. Huh, what a great planner! Like at this point, i dont believe that shes a great planner at all. And i cannot unsee it but i feel like pd and damon are similar in the sense that what goes on in their doesnt match reality, thats why their rationale are stupid. Description doesnt match anything. Like?? It made me feel a bit disrespected as a reader because she kept on writing a but i felt gaslighted if i felt b, then her fans will attack me and say im dumb because i didnt believe a. Like why are you angry at me? Tell pd to write properly ten, how is it my fall, if im not the only reader who had this problem with her writing? Anyway, i guess No wonder banks' age doesnt make any sense, but then she doesnt give a fuck about banks as much either other than always making her self worth about men around her- damon, kai and gabriel. Idk, if i thinkabout all the way pd messed up hideaway and banks character, that'll be a whole other long rant that nobody probably gaf about, but me.

Tbh i really dont remember where i heard this but hideaway was actually her hardest book to write because corrupt was supposed to be a standalone, so she had to think of how kai and banks would work. So dont take my word for it!! But i can see why hideaway was like THAT. i guess by nightfall, she just wanted to end it. I mean she did took feedback to lessen alex's presence in fire night, thank god! And i remember one of her goodreads questions about having more diverse fmcs and pd said she couldnt because of banks' character and who she was related Too and tbh idek what to make of this, because i just read the extra on her site of banks stalking michael rika kai in the valentines extra, and that LITERALLY couldve been the prologue hideaway or epilogue for corrupt. Uggghh and not the epilogue of hideaway being damon pissing? Ughhhhhh i hate himmmm.

excuse me ko, i sound so hateful and whiny here but i only react to this to bad soap operas, because only bad soap kperas can me invested in their shitty stories like this. Im so angry but so invested? Idk but i think people who are still in the fandom are tough readers, because after my anger subside, i think i wont be touching this series again for real, these characters, these books, these stories and this author just make me angry!!! How do yall stay sane here. Your fanfics are one of the reason i like willemmy in an au. No but seriously, theyre so fun to read! I really appreciate the fanfics you put out for free, and all the games and fan things you do on your blogs! And unexpectedly, i didnt know i need that banks emmy hollow fic! Thank you for that female characters bonding 🥰

if you have any happy books or shows that i can watch with no angst or bullying, please do send my way 🥹🫶 i think i need a cleanse from this series

Heyyyy! I’m so happy you're b-ohhh…

And i actually read the bonus rikabanks and wtf? 🤮 i shouldve listened to you!!!!! Wtf?

Well. What can I say? Sometimes curiosity gets the better of you. Looks like you did the same thing a lot of us did: go looking for all the bonus material only to realize it doesn’t get better; it only gets worse. To this day, the only one I return to is the Hideaway deleted scene with Will. Does so much for my willemmy heart.

Why do i feel like dn series dont have any couples that will stay together for the rest of their lives?

You’re not the first to say that. Personally, I feel that these people will live the rest of their lives together, die together, and be buried together if only because no one else will put up with them (probably all at the same time if Damon gets any control, and knowing PD…)

(…am I implying that Damon will plan a murder/suicide plot, killing his wife and best friends when they reach age 80, because he can’t stand the idea of living without them, or them he? possibly.)

My least fav though would 100% be winter.

Your rant about Winter and purity cultural got me thinking a little bit. The majority of readers like to give Emmy multiple boyfriends and hook ups in her time away (I’m in the minority but that's for another time), but I truly feel that it would have given Winter’s character much more legitimacy if she was the one having hook ups.

Like, Rika’s history makes sense given how the Crist family was controlling and manipulating her.

And Banks’ virginity can be played as more of a power move. She grew up around men who treated women like toys, constantly being reminded that there’s a thin line between her and them. Her choice not to let them have access to her body, even if she had found someone other than Kai, gives her autonomy. She has the lock and key, no one else, not even Damon. It works for her character and situation.

But Winter? She was so angry with Damon after the truth came out. Not to mention, he opened her up to experiences she didn’t have before, but were suddenly taken away from her. It would have made so much sense if she had gone out and tried to erase him, tried to replace him, tried to capture whatever it was she felt in his arms with someone else, only to discover that it doesn’t work. No one else can do what Damon does for her, and she hates herself for it. Him too.

Even if she’s a little ashamed of herself, because she’s coming out of this “purity cultural” mindset, it’s fine. If she had multiple partners before her second chance with Damon, her knowing that it he’s the only one that she “works” with makes a lot more sense plot-wise. They’re messed up, but they’re messed up in similar ways, and that’s why it can’t be anyone else. Maybe that would have given Winter a bit more substance as a character, outside of being Damon’s soother. But what do you think?

and another thing that i wanna touch on: purity culture of this series.

You asked if I noticed it, and to be honest, on my first read, I didn’t. But this leads into another idea I’ve been thinking about lately, which is mostly unrelated except for the way my mind connected them.

I’ve watched a few youtube videos on how booktok and the like are promoting books, and why some of those books are just not good despite all the hype. And one person (can’t remember which video, but I’m sure this is not their opinion alone), suggested that part of the problem is the tropification of books.

Now, this doesn’t bother me. Knowing the tropes of books will get me to read the summary and then I decide from there. But that’s because I was raised on fanfiction. I didn’t have a lot of money growing up, and the library was not always easy to get to. But fanfiction was free and at my computer, and easy to access. Which means I was also exposed to all of the terms and phrases frequently used in dark romance (along with a lot of other obvious signs of lazy and cheap writing) and learned to ignore.

So the popularizing of features you’d normally only see if fanfiction/fandom spaces makes sense, because the people who were in fandom spaces when I was a teenager are now adults with money who decide what’s popular and what’s not; and therefore what gets published and picked up (and this isn't anything new, really. I think a bigger part of this is just that it's the natural evolution of the bodice rippers from years past).

And putting these thoughts together, I realized I read DN as if it were a mid-tier fanfic. I think it was written about as well a fanfic. Not that it was once FF and then turned into original fiction, like so many today. Just that it has the same level of skill and editing quality as a really good but not great, fanfic. That may be why I’m not as angry as other readers? And also why a lot of the more problematic issues went over my head? It’s the same things you overlooked to get some decently written work on ffn or ao3. Sometimes, you just had to put on your “no thoughts; just here for a good time” helmet and go.

I could be completely off on this. It’s a new idea I haven’t fully worked through, but might possibly have some merit.

That being said, it was very popular when I was a teenager – and given how hyped books with these features are today, I’m sure still is – to have a oversized, brooding, sometimes bloody MLI be totally whipped for the good girl, never seen a naked man without blushing, “he's going to ruin me and I'm going to let him,” FLI. Later, readers started calling for more empowered female characters. And some writers understood the assignment and some didn’t. PD seems to have tried to combined the two, with less than effective results.

And this goes back to my point about Winter. It’s not that this idea of “purity” doesn’t have its place, it’s how it’s used and what it says about the characters who are using it.

If Banks was a virgin by choice well into her 20s, good for her. That's a power move.

If Damon had to let go of this idea that Winter was only meant for him, of this “pure as freshly fallen snow”, and to see her worth despite it, it would have been good development.

But I think we both know that Banks being a virgin and Damon having those thoughts about Winter were not meant for character but because that’s what some readers find hot. Which is why it’s one, not enjoyable for all; and two, went straight over my head. What other people find hot has nothing to do with me. I’m still here for the character development (that never happened! I’m clearly madder about that).

But pd has never had a talent to write good female relationships either, her birthday girl book and fall away series are always fmcs fighting and putting other women down.

I tried reading bully but I don’t remember much from it. But to your point, I don’t understand why PD seems to always want women to fight, as if that’s the way to show their empowered. Like above, when readers started calling for stronger female characters, some writers took that to mean they wanted physically strong characters – which in some cases is legitimate. But it was soon made clear that that’s not what was asked for.

It seems that PD only finds female characters interesting if they’re willing to physically fight another woman because that shows…? Actually, I’m unclear what it shows, exactly. I would have loved if the girls in this story weren’t copy/paste versions of one another; if the things that made them strong was different and yet just as valid.

For example, if it was Rika’s capacity for forgiveness tempered with her growing backbone and refusal to be treated like a doormat was emphasized as what made her strong, and not her fencing/martial arts/willingness to hurt others.

If Winter had unmatched mental fortitude. I mean, come on, the girl still dances after going blind. She has resiliency. Why is she so weak when Damon’s not around? Why does she need Damon to tell her to raise her voice.

If Emory’s emphasized strength was her kindness despite her suffering, and not her ability to walk away from good things and endure massive amounts pain, which we see is mostly physical.

Again, for the most part, those are all good qualities, but usually it’s only the physical strength and willingness to use it that’s emphasized more than any other trait. And ruins them because them you have to make them be angry enough to physically fight, or want to, when these girls should be supporting each other.

I left Banks out above because her being able to physically fight is one of her more important features, and should be allowed to shine through. If the other girl’s abilities were scaled back, Banks being able to do what she does, having learned how to survive in Gabriel’s house, would have just been more outstanding.

It just goes back to having good female relationships means having a variety of women and a love of different types of personalities. I’m struggling to see PD truly enjoying characters, and more enjoying just certain plots and character traits. I think one thing that is clear is that PD is not the writer for me. Which is fine.

Maybe this was why alex was mad at emmy, among many other possible reasons than jealousy? Because emmy was her first female friend in the group who didnt start her relationship with alex being shit or judging to her from the start? And after everything still good to her? Because shes not to sincerely supportive female friendship like this? Or am i reaching?

It doesn’t really matter if you’re reaching, you’re in a fandom space now. Run with it!

I like the idea that Alex and Emmy’s relationship is unique because Emmy was the first girl to not judge her (and of all the girls, Emmy has the biggest reason to, but because she’s Emmy, all she wants if for Will to be happy). It would have been great if we could have seen Alex struggling with wanting to be Emory’s friend because of the kindness shown her, and wanting to protect Will from further hurt, which only Emmy had the ability to do. Alex wanting to be friends with both, but having to pick one because they’re on opposite sides of an issue is a real problem.

But there’s some arguing that idea because Alex left Emory exposed, and then said it’s partly because she wanted to see Emory and Will interacted. What were they, her little experiment?

There were a lot of ways that the Alex/Emory/Will issue could have been played that would have address their real issues without pitting Alex and Emory against each other the way they were, but then PD seems to love it when the girls fight, then kiss and make up.

Cant pd write just one book with fmc who's not a pure virgin with big bad sccary guy who treats her like shit?

Doesn’t PD’s new series feature this? Someone else will have to check, but I’m pretty sure. But I can’t vouch for how the mc treats the fmc.

pd had the time to make up that Aaron Palmer Fane name for Rika's baby, combining alex and will's name, and the middle name of Torrin….

This is not something I’ve discussed before but I hate PDs naming trend. What is the obsession with Fane?

Madden? Cool. Jett, nice. Indie? Would have loved if her middle name was actually Jones, because that would have been sooooo Willemmy, but I’m still hoping (stupidly) that Aspen has some real inspiration and not that they opened up a baby name book and picked the first name they saw.

But are we really surprised that the most thought when into how Rika and Damon named their kids?

Aaron Palmer – isn’t that a drink…wait, no. that’s Arnold Palmer.

Athos? An eight-year-old named herself after one of the three musketeers and where supposed to think that's cool and not totally contrived (and am I the only one who thinks it’s weird that Athos being eight technically means she was born when Rika was sixteen, which is when Corrupt first takes place…which kinda means that Michael and Rika sort of retroactively become teenage parents, as if Michael hadn’t let Rika leave that night? Like I wouldn’t be surprised if it was revealed that Athos’ birthday is in July - nine months after devil’s night.).

Dag??? Take Damon’s ability to name things away from him.

She shoudve hyped up emmy from the start in every single book. For one fact about alex, give emmy 3-4 extras.

Absolutely!!! That's so real. I’ve said it before and I’ll probably say it again, but Emory should have haunted Will the entire series. One hint in each book was not enough to sell how bad Will was truly affected by her. And if we had been given more hints, I think the shipping war probably wouldn’t have been so bad. Overall, we just needed more of Emmy’s presence throughout the series, even if she wasn’t on the page, to be really hyped for Willemmy.

The way the idea of reading Nightfall and then going back through the series and seeing where Will was most affected by her grips me, and we never got that. ugghgh.

another thing, i read on goodreads/ pd's website that the characters' birthdate were never something that she thought too much off until the story got published them and fans asked for them.

Please don’t get me started on the birthdays/timeline. I’ve been through enough.

Idk, if i thinkabout all the way pd messed up hideaway and banks character, that'll be a whole other long rant that nobody probably gaf about, but me.

I can name like two or three blogs that would love to hear your rant. Come on, don't keep them to yourself. Share.

Idk but i think people who are still in the fandom are tough readers, because after my anger subside, i think i wont be touching this series again for real, these characters, these books, these stories and this author just make me angry!!! How do yall stay sane here.

Too true. Like I said above, I wasn’t as angry as a lot of other readers, but I mourned the lost potential. I kept reading because of Emmy, and high (too high) expectations for what this could turn into and it never went in that direction.

The mourning led to ranting with a friend, which led to me writing fics to answer the questions I had and fill in the gaps, and try to capture some of that potential. But otherwise, I wouldn’t be here. The asks keep me around. The games fill in the time between the asks, and honestly, to try and help make some of it a little better. It’s fun to play with the idealized versions of the characters in my head. This is actually a great group dynamic and if PD would let them be friends instead of trying to find away that everyone can sleep with everyone despite the fact they made their favs related, I think we could have some fun.

There are good things here, and I believe one day a talented enough artist or writer will come along and tap on that potential. Until then, we keep trying to find the joy in what’s left.

Your fanfics are one of the reason i like willemmy in an au. No but seriously, theyre so fun to read! I really appreciate the fanfics you put out for free, and all the games and fan things you do on your blogs! And unexpectedly, i didnt know i need that banks emmy hollow fic! Thank you for that female characters bonding 🥰

Honestly, from the bottom of my heart, thank you so much! Hollow was definitely a response to the scene I warned you not to read, and while I know the characters aren’t perfect replicas of PD’s, I needed it too. Just happy they can bring some joy to others like they helped me.

Um.. I am horrible with recommendations. I tend to read and watch the same things over and over again. I don’t have a lot of time to read, so it takes me forever to get through things, and then I don’t remember books by their tropes; just how they made me feel. Which is why even badly written things stick with me if I enjoyed myself.

I understand if you have no intentions of touching this series again (you mentioned before how goodreads reviews were saying you just need to get through corrupt and hideaway to get to kill switch, which is so opposite of what I tell readers. If you can’t stand corrupt, quit while you’re ahead), but to catch any of the books or shows I’m into, you’d just have to hang around, unfortunately. No pressure, though. Move on to brighter places if DN talk just doesn’t work for you. Make your fandom places fun.

Thanks for coming back! And thank you for your thoughts. I enjoyed them.

#asked and answered 276 #asked and answered #devil's night series stuff #devil's night series #series discussion #series rant

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