#Title of my s*x tape

[seospicybin]

THE FUCKBOY NEXT DOOR.

PART 2

Bangchan x reader. (s)

Chapters: Part I

Synopsis: To help you moving on from your break-up, Chan takes you out for a night. However, he doesn't expect you will find a potential new love in someone else. (9,5k words)

Author's note: Here's one you've been asking for. Please tell me what you think about it! Nevertheless, enjoy x

"I think we're done for the day, huh?" You sigh in relief after dumping the dirty towels into the laundry bag and tossing it to the back room.

"No, actually, someone just walked in and wanted a haircut," your co-worker says while holding a stack of clean towels in front of her.

"Keem can have it," you resolve, you've finished all of your appointments for the day, and you're tired and ready to go home.

"Yeah, that's the problem. He specifically asked for you," your co-worker answers, putting the towels into the shelf full of them.

You plant your hands on each side of your waist and shoot a puzzled look at your coworker, "Huh?"

Is this customer aware that the salon is about to close and there's another hairstylist on duty? That exciting feeling of getting home soon is slowly fading as you head in to meet this customer who specifically asks for you.

The second you walk in, Keem, the other stylist, grabs your elbow and then leans into your side to whisper, "He's so cute."

Hearing it doesn't lift your mood at all, you just want to get it over with and go home.

"Where?" You ask as you put on your apron.

"He's right there," she whispers, pointing to the middle seat hidden behind the big mirror then detaches herself off you to go back behind the counter.

For a customer who chooses an awful time to get a haircut, you put on a phony smile and shove your hands into the pockets of your apron as you greet.

"Hi, what can I do for... You!" The infliction in your voice changes as you see who that customer is.

It's the shit-eating grin, the stupid dimples on his stupid face and

"It's enough torture to have you as my neighbor and now I have to you see at work too," you say as you cross your arms together in front of you.

"Oh, wow, is this how you treat your customer?" He says with a fake concerned look.

"Only the select few," you say with a sinister smile.

"I made it on your list of honors? Is this because we had sex—"

You hurriedly cover his mouth with your hand and make sure no one is seeing what you're doing to him, or worse, letting them acquire that piece of information.

"What do you want?" You scold him with a piercing glare.

He takes your hand off of his mouth and dramatically gasps for air, "I want a haircut," he simply answers.

With a huff, you swivel his chair to face the mirror and grab the cape for him, putting it around his neck, then clip it together. You put on a phony smile as you look at him through the reflection in the mirror.

"So, what do you want me to do with your hair besides setting it on fire?" You sarcastically ask him.

It's amazing how his grin doesn't wear off even just for a second, "We don't need to cut much, I guess just the tip," he says.

"Just the tip," you repeat, "Is that the title of your sex tape?"

Chan cracks a sonorous laugh, "That's a good one!"

Once you hear the sound of the scissors snipping away the hair, you get in the zone. You focus on giving his hair a nice shape that accentuates his strong jawline and makes his facial features more prominent.

"Don't talk much, huh?" He asks, slightly turning his head to the side.

You grab the nape of his neck and forcefully turn his head back to the front, "just here trying my best not to snip you somewhere else," you calmly mutter.

"Ooh, chills!" He responds with a shudder.

You switch your scissors with a hair clipper and it starts buzzing as you turn it on, you're holding it in his hand as you look at him and say, "You're going to regret coming here and allowing me to be this close to you with a sharp object."

Seeing you bringing the hair clipper close to his face, he reflexively closes his eyes so tightly and you hold the urge to not laugh at it.

"Oh, okay, I regret it now," he says like a frightened child left alone by his parents.

You gently place your hand on his jaw, "Stay still," you warn him.

He obeys you, keeping his head still and his eyes closed as you're carefully trimming his sideburns. You suddenly find yourself admiring his face and his beautiful features of a long, big nose and voluptuous lips.

For a split second, you so badly want to run your thumb on his lips and feel how soft they are. You did feel it once with your lips but you were too sad to notice and now you realize how much you regret it.

Before the temptation returns, you turn off the trimmer and put it away, then proceed to help brush the hair on his face and around his neck with a soft brush.

"You're all done," you announce, taking the cape from around his neck.

Chan stays on his seat as you brush the excess hair off the nape of his neck and make sure they don't stick to his skin. You put all of your equipment on the cart next to you and anticipate his reaction to your haircut.

Not trying to brag here but you did a good job here because he looks even more attractive with a fresh cut.

"Aren't you going to tell me how handsome I am and then kiss me on the cheek?" He asks while blinking his big eyes at you.

"I'm not your mom," you reply with a plain smile.

"I'm waiting for you."

When you think you already got rid of him after giving him a haircut, you see him lounging around the counter and putting on his charms for Keem. You plan on keeping it a secret that you know each other but if he starts flirting with your co-worker, then there's a possibility you'll see her walking out of his apartment the next day and it only gets messy from there. You come up to him and tug at the sleeve of his jacket, then pull him to the side.

"Why are you still here?" You ask through your gritted teeth and keeping your volume low.

"Why?"

"Because we're going out tonight," he answers.

"We?"

"And no, my panties are not in a twist," he says with a teeth-baring grin, "You can check it yourself if you want."

"Ugh. No!" You groan in refusal.

What is it about him anyway that makes the girls go crazy for him? If you're thinking with your depraved, brutal, and cavewoman brain, it must be the body that is inexplicably electric and sexually charged, braced with heavy muscles, and injected with a high dose of testosterone. In other words, he's hot, and it's hard not to be biologically attracted to him. But if you're thinking progressively and in the 21st century way, you know you should avoid this fuckboy at all costs.

"Ugh. Okay," you groan in agreement this time.

"If you don't want to go then I'll just take Keem," he says, secretly threatening not only you but also your workplace dynamic.

"I'm sure she's keem for it," he makes a pun.

And then, there's something called human error.

-

At first, Chan thought that you have that stoic expression only whenever you're around him but he was wrong. He learns that it's just your default expression and you wear it like a defense mechanism to keep the predators at bay. At least, he shouldn't worry about leaving you alone in the bar as he's working the DJ booth.

Once he's done with his set, he ignores the calls for his name and walks up to you, seeing you rather unimpressed by what he just did. What did he expect though? You're not most girls.

He taps the table, signaling the bartender to come and tend to his order, "The usual, please?"

The bartender nods and is about to turn away to make his drink when he calls for him again, "And one more for this nice lady," he adds, gesturing at you and flashing you a sly smile.

Chan turns around to face the dance floor and leans his back against the counter, "So, what do you think?"

"It was good," you answer after sipping your drink.

"You have a filthy expression on your face," he teases you and gently elbows your side, "go on, tell me what you're really thinking."

"Strangling you with my bare hands," you answer without a beat.

Chan leans in close enough that he can get a whiff of the smell of your shampoo, "so that's your kink?"

"Only when I see fear in your eyes," you answer with a wicked smile.

"Wow. You know how to excite a guy," he praises, not entirely lying about it because he gets a little excited from your snarky comments.

The bartender comes with both of your drinks and you hurriedly finish your previous one to go ahead with the next. He watches as you take a small sip and then waits to see how your nose scrunched at the bitter aftertaste.

"You're single now and maybe it's time for you to get out there, you know, find a new love," he says, secretly hoping that you'll find it in him when he looks at you.

"Hey, Chris," a girl comes and without hesitating, placing a kiss on his cheek, "Great set!"

"Thanks, Alicia," he says to the tall lady with beautiful braided hair.

"This one is on me," she says as she gives him a drink from the ones she ordered.

"Cheers then!" He says, clinking his glass with hers with his charming smile on.

The lady leaves to take the drinks away and is soon engulfed by the crowd. Chan notices that you remain calm about that interaction, and again, what did he expect?

"At least, one of us has no problems getting some tonight," you take a jab at him.

"I'm taking you out so we can have fun tonight and enjoy yourself—"

"The only way I can enjoy myself is when I'm alone."

"Oh?" He gasps and gives you a wild glare.

You roll your eyes and sigh once you realize he's taking it the wrong way, "I just want to go home and binge my favorite show and sleep," you finish your sentence with a big gulp of drink and he gets to see another nose scrunch from you.

The intention was to take you out of the apartment and perhaps, he can get you to loosen up a little bit, making this getting to know each other thing a little easier for him. It seems like he's forcing it on you and maybe it wasn't a good idea after all.

"Okay, then, we'll go home after this one," he says, lifting his glass close to his mouth.

"Or you can just stay here and do your thing, and I'm going home," you suggest a better idea after finishing your drink and you grab your bag as if you just can't wait to get out of here.

Chan is quick to grab your arm and stops you from leaving, "Hey, at least, let me finish my drink first," he protests.

"You don't have to leave with me. I can go home myself," you say to him.

"Just wait for me," he squeezes on your arm and adds, "Please?"

You consider it for a moment and then say, "I'll wait for you outside."

Since he's done a gig here, Chan has to make a proper exit out of the club, he greets a few people who work there and grabs his backpack of equipment, carrying it in his hand as he walks out of there. He finds you leaning against the street lamp and the light casts a glowing halo on your head, making you look like an angel... with a stoic expression.

He grins when you notice him coming, "Okay, I lied, there's another thing we have to do tonight," he says.

"Goodness, Chris, just bag a lady and call it a night," you groan in complaint.

Both of his eyebrows ratchet up at your words, "It has nothing to do with that."

"What is it then?" You cross your arms together in front of you.

"Only the best part of the night," he answers with a cryptic smile.

Chan knew he should have started the night with food. He can see that your mood gradually elevates with every bite you take from the delicious kebab he recommended to get after a boozy night out.

By the time you both arrive at the apartment building, you get all quiet like a drowsy child after a day out at the park and he finds it cute, especially with the way your lips slowly jutting out and you keep widening your eyes to stay awake.

"How about next Friday night we're doing it your way?" he suggests as he keeps the elevator door open for you with his back.

"If that means you'll leave me alone then yes," your eyes turn small as you politely moan into your hand.

"We're going to stay in and binge-watch your favorite show and sleep," he lists everything you mentioned earlier and an idea pops into his head.

"We'll have a pajama party!" He announces along with a poor imitation of tooting horns.

"No!" You flatly reject the idea.

"I'll bring the snacks," he offers.

You steadfastly shake your head.

"Then I'll keep knocking on your door until you let me in," he annoyingly moves into your side until he's rubbing elbows with yours.

"Then I hope you get abducted by aliens," you come out with an absurd wish and it cackles him.

"You would miss me," he confidently remarks with his signature grin.

"Doubtful. Very doubtful."

"Why?"

"I know I'd get to see you again someday—"

Chan can't help himself from smiling but little does he know, you're not done with your sentence yet.

"— in hell."

That wipes the smile off his face, "but I'm a good person. People like me," he says while making an innocent face.

"Because they don't know you, if they did, someone would have kicked your ass already."

"They'd try," Chan easily says with a nonchalant shrug, and at the same time, you both burst out laughing.

This is not flirting and he's aware there's something wrong with this interaction but you know what? He likes every bit of it.

Chan's heart sinks when it's time for the two of you to part ways and before you get to slip away from him, he tugs at the strap of your bag.

"Hey, can't wait for our pajama party," he says.

You pull your bag until the strap slips out of his hand and head to your apartment door.

"No response," he points out, "it's as a yes then."

"No!" You shout.

"So... it's a no?" He asks in confusion.

You push the door to get inside your apartment and lingers by the doorway, facing him.

"No," you cheekily respond and then close the door, leaving him with a different kind of thrill for what comes next.

-

From the way this person treats your door like a tambourine, you can safely guess that it's Chan knocking on the door for the so-called pajama party.

Ugh, why did you agree to it in the first place? It's so unlike you to let someone in on your space but it doesn't matter whether you let him or not, the boundaries have been crossed so many times that there's no such thing as personal space anymore.

Before letting him in, you check through the peephole, and just as you expected, he comes undressed, literally. He's standing on the other side of the door wearing nothing but gray sweatpants hanging low around his hips.

"Please have mercy on my eyes and put some clothes on!" You shout through the door with your hand holding the knob.

"I don't wear pajamas. This is what I wear to sleep," he responds and you can hear him faintly laughing with your ear pressed on the door.

"And what makes you think you're going to sleep at my place tonight?"

"I don't know. A hunch," he playfully responds.

"Pajama party is officially canceled!" You say through the peephole.

"Okay, okay, I'll put some clothes on," he sighs in defeat.

You watch through the peephole to see if he's really going to his apartment to change. With his broad shoulders, all hunched up, he walks back to his apartment and doesn't even bother to close the door, he grabs whatever lying close to him and puts the dark t-shirt over his head. Even under the poor lighting, the ridges of his muscles are visible and inviting you to feel it with your touch.

As though he knows he's being watched, he looks your way and then trudges his way back to your door. The first thing you see after you open the door for him is his big grin that sends his dimples sinking deep into his cheeks.

With a glare at his empty hands, you ask, "And where's the snack?"

Chan puts his arms on each side of the doorframe and leans in close, towering you with his big figure, proudly he answers, "Ma'am, I am the snack."

Can't tell if he's trying to charm you, intimidate you, or both, doesn't matter because he failed at all of them.

"But you promised!" You can tolerate people when they make jokes about anything but you can't accept when it involves food.

Chan takes his phone out of his pocket and shows it to you, "It's being delivered. See?"

Your jaws unclenched in a second and you open the door wider for him, "You may come in!" You sweetly say with a curtsy.

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" He says with a bow before steps into your apartment.

It's ironic how you prepared everything despite you were grudging it, you set the sofa, put some cushions and since he said he was bringing the food, you bought drinks for tonight.

"I have juice, soda, and beers," you list everything you have in your fridge as you're looking at it.

"We'll have the soda for now and beers for later," Chan strategically plans.

The food he ordered only lasts for two episodes and from there, you both run on beers and chips while sitting on opposite sides of each other on the couch with your feet touching.

"I like seeing white stockings on women," Chan comments after seeing the female character wearing it under her dress.

"This is why I hate watching with a man," you say in a condescending tone.

"I'm not even saying anything about her body," he defends himself and playfully rubs his foot with yours.

"Just shh..." you hush him, getting back at him by tackling his foot with yours.

The whole time the TV show is playing, your attention is on him, you're merely curious if he's genuinely invested in it or just wants to annoy you with his presence. From your observation, it seems like it's the former but the jury's still out.

"Wait, is that it?" He asks as the first season has just ended and the credit title rolls down the screen.

"That's the end of the first season," you say, starting to gather the trash on the table and put it into a plastic bag.

"But there's another season, right?" He says, looking distressed that the show ends with a cliffhanger.

"Yeah," you answer.

"Then let's watch it!" He says with a grin and slowly blinking his eyes at you.

"No, Chris, it's late," you show him the time on the screen on your phone that it's close to midnight.

"But I want to know what happens next and I need to know now," he speaks like a spoiled little brat.

You get up from the sofa to get rid of the trash, "You can watch it on your own."

Grabbing the back of your sweater, Chan pulls you hard until you plop down onto the sofa next to you then he puts his arm around you to keep you down.

"Let's just party all night, eh?" He persuades you as he leans in close to the side of your head you can feel his warm breath fanning your cheek.

You leer to the side at him and ask, "I can't make you leave, do I?"

"Not a chance," he shortly answers.

Seeing that there's no other way to make him leave but to fulfill his wish, you give in and sit back down on the sofa as Chan hits the play button.

With your stomach full and the exhaustion from the day, and you feel snug on the sofa wrapped in your blanket, you're getting drowsy as the night gets late. You manage to stay awake for two episodes but not long after that, your eyes get really heavy and you can barely keep them open anymore.

Going to rest my eyes for a bit, you tell yourself in your head but close your eyes, slowly drifting into deep slumber.

-

It's not new that Chan wakes up not knowing where he is, he lifts his head and looks around, taking in his surroundings to give him clues of his whereabouts. One look at the TV screen that shows a question whether he's still watching or not, he immediately recalls where he is, what he's doing here, and—

"Owh!" He lowly gasps as you accidentally elbow him on the ribs.

There he is, lying next to you on the sofa, your back pressed close to his chest he can feel every rise and fall of your body as you're breathing. He doesn't know how it comes to this and he's not complaining though, if anything, it's an opportunity for him to admire you up close.

Cautiously, he removes the hair covering your face to the side and takes an intimate look at your facial features, first at your eyes with your eyelashes fanning out so beautifully, he runs his fingertip down your nose and eventually at your lips which he dreams of kissing.

Do you know that you're so beautiful yet so unaware of it?

Chan gently buries his nose in your neck and inhales your heavenly scent that gets him intoxicated, putting himself in a test of restraint that he'll be likely to fail. All of a sudden, you stir in your sleep and nuzzle closer as if you're seeking warmth from his body heat.

What did he just put himself into? He frustratingly asks in his head.

Soon enough, he can feel your body start to mold against him and it feels nice, you're fulfilling his need for this closeness but unfortunately, he can't control how his body is reacting to this as it wants to do more than just being pressed close to yours.

Chan carefully places his hand on your hips and quietly, he tries to push you away to make a safe space between your bodies even though he has to suffer the loss of your warmth against him.

As if your body knows what he's trying to do, you push back even further and the curve of your ass sits right on the bulge growing inside his sweatpants, putting him at a greater risk.

"Fuck!" he mouthes in distress.

If it wasn't for the TV light that casts a hazy glow on you, he wouldn't notice that your eyes are open and you're waking up to him with his hand on your hips which he's afraid only giving you the impression that he tries to pull you close instead of the opposite.

"I—" he can't say anything without sounding like he's lying because he knows that a greater part of him wanted it, wanting you.

In the next moment, he finds your hand reaching for him and unexpectedly, you put your fingers across his lips, asking him to stop talking as you bring his head close until your lips touch. He doesn't dare to do anything but when you stroke his lower lip with your tongue, his instincts take over.

To no one's surprise, Chan claims your mouth like a starved man.

However, Chan doesn't plunge right into it, he's starting the kiss with innocent brushes of his lips on yours and teasing licks before taking your mouth once again in a deeper kiss.

When he draws back, your lips are parted on soundless gasps of desire. It takes a moment for your eyes to clear enough to focus on him and with a low voice, he says, "I couldn't resist it."

He can't waste a second without kissing you so he indulges in another dizzying kiss, "I thought about kissing you all week."

Days, weeks, months, it comes to a blur to him but he learned the agony of waiting so he counts the time until his lips can reunite with yours again, hopefully, once and for all.

"Now, I can't seem to stop," As he speaks, he threads his fingers into your hair and angles your head back. He trails kisses along your jawline, nips your chin, and kisses the corner of your mouth.

A murmur humming in your throat as he kisses you yet again and your hand flies into his hair, fingertips lazily scratching at his scalp. You suddenly pull away from the kiss and gaze into his dark eyes, "Then don't stop."

So Chan hasn't been the only one, after all.

Planting his mouth on yours again, he twines his tongue with yours, and oh... this taste, this softness, your hand in his hair, kiss after kiss after kiss.

He allows himself to run his fingertips down the length of your arm and smiles when goosebumps ripple outward. Nuzzling your neck, he breathes in the soft scent of your skin and kisses the sweet spot just behind your jaw. Your lips are calling him, but instead, he sucks on your earlobe and bites it, startling a shaky sigh from you.

He allows himself to explore more by running his hand along the length of your body, cupping the curve of your breasts, and even through the layers of fabrics, he can feel the firm buds of your nipple. He so badly wants to pinch it, love on it, but there is too much fabric in the way. He simply resolves it by slipping his hand under and he finds your soft mounds in a second, not wasting another second to fondle on it.

As he kisses you harder, and you arch into his body, you're undulating your hips against the aching bulge inside its confine, forcing him to bite back his groan.

Oh, he hasn’t wanted someone like this in... Has he ever wanted someone like this?

He reels himself back to the present, glancing down at his pale hand and your nipple caught between his fingers, it's an erotic sight indeed that he can't resist pinching it and enjoying your sharp intake of breath.

"Chris..."

The sound of his name falling from your lips is just as unexpected as it is hot. He sees you breathe through your parted lips that's swollen and glistening wet from all the kissing, and then at your wide, lustful eyes that tell him you're ready for more.

An impatient hand glides down your stomach and slips beneath the waistband of your shorts, his gentle fingers caress you with slow strokes. He is touching you there, right where you need him and you shiver, then burrow closer to him as more goosebumps dotted your skin.

"My God, you're drenched," he says and with each syllable, his lips grazed your ear.

Your body clenched hard, clenched even harder when he presses a finger deep into you, filling you. He massages your clit with lazy swirls of his thumb, making you start trembling against him.

He lowers a kiss on you again, tongue and teeth invading your mouth and that's all it takes to send you climbing quick and sharp toward your release.

His mouth finds your ear and with his hot breath tickles you, he lowly asks, "Does it feel good?”

There's no answer but you sink your teeth into your bottom lip as you throw your head back, inhaling sharply. Chan can feel tiny muscles fluttering around his fingers, and he knows you are close.

He doesn't need to see to know the answer, he can feel it with his hand, "You’re drenching my palm," he whispers again.

With your hand in his hair, you bring his head close and peck his lips, "Chris, I want it," you mutter as you pull away.

You lightly nod, "Mmh-hmm."

"It?" He asks to confirm if you're thinking of the same thing and he's not taking the wrong sign.

"Condom?"

"No need," you shortly answer, "I'm on the pill."

A jolt of excitement surges all over his body just from the thought that he'll be inside you with no layer of protection and it utterly exhilarates him that he needs to calm down for a minute. He uses the time to remove your shorts and then his sweatpants next without taking his other arm from around you.

Once he settles himself behind you, he puts his hand between your legs, lifting a leg and putting it over his hips, allowing his hard member to get between your legs. It feels a whole lot different to feel how wet you are on every inch of his length.

"Feel that?" He asks you with his mouth nestled close to your ear and his swollen cock rubbing between your folds, "I'm aching for you."

Chan kisses your mouth, your jaw, your neck as hard flesh prodding at your sex, making you stop breathing for a moment and you feel nothing but a sensuous stretching that goes on and on until he seated himself fully inside you and oh, he fits perfectly.

"It's too good. You feel– oh... I'm going to lose it," he can't comprehend what he's feeling right now.

The heat, this tightness, so perfect for him and his body asks for nothing but more and more and more of you.

Responding to his body's needs, he withdraws and then thrusts back into you, soon enough, he sets a steady pace. His free hand slides down to your bundle of nerves, touching you there for added stimulation. You grip his wrist, seemingly intending to pull him away, but your hand refuses to cooperate.

The twin assaults of his fingers and his cock that fills you full kindle a flame inside you that spread all over you like wildfire. Your mouth is parted open but all that comes out are gasps and sighs of pleasure so instead of words, you communicate how you feel through your body. You spread your thighs wider and writhe to match his thrust for thrust.

There's nothing but the sounds of his hips slapping your ass and his cock that incessantly slipping in and out of you, and he likes how he finds peace despite his body being in pure chaos.

With his mouth lingering close to your ear, he knows you hear every shudder of his breath to the lowest of his sultry moans slipped out of his mouth, and honestly, he would have been embarrassed if it weren’t for your hand tangled in his curls and keep pulling him for a kiss, before finding his hand that rests on your chest and hold it.

"Perfect..." the word tumbles out of his mouth as your fingers slip right between the spaces of his fingers and lace it together.

"Ah, ah, ah," more moans fall out of your lips as you arch into him, and through it all, your eyes locked in a gaze with his, letting him see the pure pleasure that builds up inside you.

Chan has slept with a handful of people, but he’s never been so in tune with someone's body. He’s never been so desperate to please or so elated when he hears you cry his name as you cum around him.

The high takes you over and also your ability to move, speak, and think. You curl up, making you feel smaller against him. The hand interlaced with his tightens as he speeds up the motions of his hips and with one last deep thrust, he joins you in falling apart.

Using this tender moment to pour his affection for you, he's whispering your name and kissing you softly, then slowly, he eases out of—

"No, don't!" Your hand grabs at his hips, hard, nails digging into the flesh, "Stay."

Obeying your words, Chan holds you close, limbs to limb, skin to skin, hearts lying so close to each other with mere flesh and bones in between. He doesn't know what this was, but it sure as hell was not fucking. He kisses you hard and soft to find out.

It's when he pulls away and looks into your eyes that he figures out the answer as the most incredible feeling of being loved washes over him.

-

When Chan wakes up the next morning. He registers the sunlight on his face, the distant barking of a neighborhood dog, and the delicious smell of buttered toast and coffee, it's all around him and—

It just hits him that he's waking up on your sofa and he burrows into the blanket with a happy sigh once he recalls everything that happened last night to the tiniest details, summoning the butterflies to flutter around in his stomach.

The sound of your footsteps forces him to get out of his daze and he scrambles to get up when you walk past the sofa on your way to the kitchen.

"Morning!" He cheerily greets you while covering his naked lower half with the blanket.

Without looking and with your hands tying your hair, you fainty reply to his greeting, "Morning."

You didn't reply to his level of enthusiasm but that's okay, he just doesn't expect you to be this stoic this early in the day. Instead of searching for his sweatpants, he wraps the blanket around his hips like a towel and waddles his way to the kitchen.

"You're up early," he says, noticing that it's barely seven and he knows you usually leave for work a little after eight, sometimes close to nine.

"Early appointment. Have to do a client's hair. Wedding," you concisely explain as you quietly sip your coffee from a big red mug.

It's strange, the way you speak and how your eyes are looking anywhere but in his direction. For now, he's going to think that you're just tired and not fully meeting your dose of caffeine yet

"Okay, so what's for breakfast?" He asks, excitedly tapping the dining table with his hands and grinning at you.

"Toast and coffee," you say while standing on your toes to get a glass from the top cabinet.

"Anything but coffee, please?" He politely asks, watching you walk the other way to get a carton of orange juice out of the fridge.

It's a sunny day but the room shares the same temperature as the glass of orange juice you pour into his glass. He observantly watches you, searching for any clues whether this is how you are in the morning or something is actually off with you.

There's one way to know, first, he takes a small sip of his juice to help with his dry throat and then jabs around the topic, "Last night was fun, don't you think?"

There's no answer and he can't see your reaction toward it when you're standing with your back facing him and he begins to think that it's the latter.

"I'm thinking we should do this again next Friday but I'll get to pick what we're going to watch and you bring—"

"Chris, I'm sorry but..." You swiftly turn on your feet and check the time on the clock, "I have to leave now."

"Sure, yeah, you can't be late for a wedding," he playfully says while keeps searching for your eyes to make you look at him.

You walk around your apartment to gather your things, your phone, and your wallet, stuffing them into a purse. You grab another bag which he guesses is one you usually carry for work and that only confirms that you're indeed leaving for an appointment.

"You can stay for breakfast and use the spare keys to lock the door when you leave," you say those things in a hurry as you drag your bag to the foyer.

He turns on his chair to look at you as he jokes, "We've only slept together twice and you're already giving me your apartment keys?"

Unfortunately, the jokes fall short as he hears nothing but the sound of the knob turning and you're getting out of the apartment.

"Have a great day at work!" He shouts at you but all he gets in response is the door closing and then clicks in place.

Chan can't tell anymore if you're leaving for work or you're leaving him, but it feels like he's getting his karma for always being the one leaving in the morning.

-

It's wedding season and that explains why there are a lot of scribbles on your calendar, you have a lot of appointments to do this month, and you get so busy that he's hardly seeing you lately.

Work is one thing he can understand but you can't possibly work 24 hours a day without a day off, right? At one point, he should have caught you leaving or coming home from work, whichever it is, the chance never comes to him, not even once.

Chan begins to wonder if you're avoiding him, he knows because there's a slight difference to it and it's in the purpose. You've been purposely doing things to avoid him.

With an excuse prepared in his head, Chan comes knocking on your door the next Friday night. He's been keeping your spare keys and can easily let himself in but that would be impolite, he needs to be on your good side to earn your trust.

After a few times knocking with no answer, he lets himself in but not because he has the spare keys, the door is unlocked so he figures you must be at home and doing something that makes you unable to get the door.

"Anyone's home?" He shouts into the void in your living room and hesitantly walks further inside.

Hearing the loud humming of a hairdryer, he walks to your bedroom. Unexpectedly, you're coming out as he's about to walk in.

"Oh, God!" You gasp in surprise as you hold the front of your bathrobe together, "What are you doing here?"

In contrast, Chan laughs seeing your shell-shocked expression in his presence. He then crosses his arms together and leans the side of his body against the doorframe, not forgetting to wear his grin as he answers to you, "Just checking to see if my neighbor is alive."

"Well, I'm alive," You're talking as you're taking dresses out of your closet, "and I need your help."

Looking at your mood and the way you talk normally to him, he concludes that the thought that you've been purposely avoiding him was just a silly thought after all. Other than that, you need his help and he likes being needed by you.

"I'm at your service," Chan says, permitting himself to step into your bedroom and sit on the end of your bed.

You're standing in front of him, holding up two dresses in your hands, one is a white line dress with a v-neck and the other is a body-hugging velvet dress in a deep burgundy color. Both will look good on you but he needs to know one thing before he gives his vote.

"Are we going out tonight?" He playfully asks, feeling a buzz of excitement filling him.

You turn around to face the full-length mirror while holding the dress in front of you in turn to give you ideas on how it will look on you.

"I have a date," you tell him.

Hearing that, the excitement in his body vanishes in a second and is replaced by a cold shudder of panic. He tries to laugh it off in denial.

"A–a date?" He stammers.

"Uh-huh," You end up settling the dress situation yourself by choosing to go with the white linen dress, "Can you get out of my room so I can change?"

His subconscious has the tendency to obey you, he gets up from the bed and walks out of your room, and he lingers there by the door, contemplating whether he should push the conversation or not.

"With who?" He doesn't want to know but curiosity gets the best of him.

"A guy I met at one of the weddings," you share from inside your bedroom.

"Is this—" he pauses to swallow air, "Is this your first date?"

"Yes and I'm excited," your voice grows louder and soon, the door cracks open and you reveal yourself to him, "Now, tell me I made the right choice?"

He takes a staggering step backward and asks, "On the date or the dress?"

You take a look at yourself on the round mirror hanging on the wall, "Is it too casual? No?"

For a second, Chan forgets about the direness of the situation and takes a good look at you, the dress compliments your shape so well, the hem flares up like a blooming flower and the v-cut neckline offers a modest cleavage, perfect for a first date. If he has to be honest, even without the dress, it won't make you less comely but he hates that you look this good and it's not for him.

"You look... good," he tries to make it sound like your appearance doesn't make any impression on him.

You wipe the excess lipstick on the corner of your mouth then look over your shoulder, "And the date?"

He doesn't expect you to give him the chance to say something about it and obviously, he's going to try his best to intercept your plan.

"Don't you think it's too soon?" He follows you as you head back to your bedroom then stops at the doorway as you enter the bathroom after, "To get on a date."

You take off the hair rollers nestling on the crown of your hair and your hair flows down like big springs, then brush it down with your fingers.

"You told me yourself that I should get out there and find new love," you return his words to him.

That feels like he's just slapped himself in the face. Why did he tell you that? Oh, yeah, that's because he wants you to start opening up so he can let himself in and fill that position.

"But that's not– I just didn't think..." his words trailing off as he can't exactly explain the reason why he said it, not now at least.

You put all of your hair to the front then flip it all together to the back, you're shaking the end with your fingers, sending the sweet smell of your shampoo flying around in the room.

"Didn't think what?" You curiously ask as you apply a fresh coat of lipstick on your lips, the shade is bright red like a flamethrower.

"When I said you should start finding a new love, I was hoping that you could finally see me and..." he can't find another way of telling you without saying it out loud, "perhaps, you can find it in me."

That makes you stop whatever you're doing and turn around on your feet, leaning against the bathroom counter, you look at him in eerie silence, and then out of nowhere, a laugh bursts out of you.

"Chris, stop playing!" You brush past him on the way out of the bathroom.

He's trailing behind you as you pick up a purse from a collection of them in your closet, "I'm not playing," he assures you.

"Okay, yeah, I trust you," you half-heartedly respond, heading out and going to the foyer to pick your shoes next.

"Can you please look at me?" He pleads as he waits for you to make up your mind with your choice of shoes.

"Just look at me, please?" He begs again, desperately.

You take your chosen shoes and hold them in one hand as you hold his gaze, "Okay, I'm looking at you."

In those fierce eyes, Chan finds the courage to assess his feelings and tries to fathom them into words. He inhales air before letting it out in a long, low sigh.

"Don't go on that date," he demands.

"Why?"

"Because I want you here."

"Chris, that's not a good enough reason," you say with a low laugh.

He gently places his hands on each of your elbows and tenderly stares into your eyes, "Then go ahead, ask me that one question."

"What question?"

"Ask me what are we," he steadily holds your gaze even though he feels a whirlwind in his head and chaos stirring inside his chest.

You brush it off with a laugh, "Why should I ask you—"

"Just ask me the question!" He accidentally raises his voice at you and immediately lowers his voice after, he looks down to take a breather before looking back into your eyes, "Ask me what are we!"

It feels like an eternity waiting for you to ask him that but he has the patience and an answer to that, he only needs you to ask him that.

You drop the shoes onto the floor and take a step forward, you hold his gaze as he holds his breath. Deep down, he knows that you'd have to be blind to not see the light of affection in his eyes.

To his dismay, you unexpectedly retreat and pick up everything with you toward the door. With your back turned to him, you say, "I don't want to be late for the date."

-

It's been an hour since he came back from your apartment and he's still stuck in the denial stage. He's lying in the dark and stares at the ceiling of his bedroom, ignoring his phone that's been tirelessly blaring with notifications.

It's not a rejection if you don't give him a definite, abundantly clear answer, right? Besides, there's a chance that the guy blew the date and you can see that he's the better man. Is he though? Is he any better?

There are two ways to handle this situation. One, he can try to forget all about it, hit call back on one of the girls contacting him right now, get out of here, and distract himself with a physical release. Or two, wait because there's something in him that tells him to wait just a little longer.

But wait for what? Wait until you return from your date? Wait until he sees it happens, you with your new beau, all lovey-dovey next door?

It seems like he's finally progressed into the next stage: anger.

Every thought that crosses his head right now is not nice and he needs an outlet for this anger. He shoots up from the bed, he starts pacing back and forth in the room, hands balled into fists, he gets this urge to punch something, he wants to— No, he can't wait with this ugly feeling slowly taking over him and driving him insane.

"Fuck this," he curses out loud into the void in his apartment, he picks up his phone and texts someone about meeting up tonight.

While typing a text, knocking comes on his door, and whoever it is, they'd better not piss him off or— the knocking comes again, he exhales air out of his mouth to calm down and walks in heavy steps to get the door.

It seems as if his anger wasn't there in the first place, the second he opens the door and sees you, all of those nasty thoughts vanish into thin air.

You're carrying your shoes in one hand and the other is holding one side of the doorframe. You look at him with a smile ever so softly blooms on your face, "So..."

See? It wasn't a rejection. He just needed to wait a little longer and God, he was glad he did.

"So...?" He asks back, holding the urge to smile back at you.

You daringly stare into his eyes as you take a step into his apartment, "So... what are we, Chris?"

It's crazy how your magnetic field is so strong that he can't stand being this close to you and not touching you, his hesitant hands are reaching for you, they retreat and give, doing it for a while until you drop everything off your hands and put your hands around his shoulders. Indirectly permitted him to put his hands on you.

"What are we, mmh?" You ask again with your eyes flickering like they hold stars in them.

"We are..." he considers to let the truth out but what's the fun in that? He needs to get back at you for making him doubt everything earlier, "Neighbors."

"No," you shake your head in disagreement, "You're definitely going to say something else."

Luckily, he's strong enough to hold you steady as you put your whole weight against him, leaving not even an inch of gap between your bodies.

"Someone still has her panties in a twist," he playfully responds with his charming grin on, dimples and all.

"Shame on you because I don't have any panties on," you say with your small smile turning into a broad one.

His eyes widen in slight shock, and his hand automatically glides downward, landing a caress on the curve of your ass and slipping under the hem of your dress to check whether your words are true or not. His fingers edge at the lacy fabric of your underwear and it turns out to be the latter.

"Ugh, you're lying!" He groans in complaint but it doesn't make him less happy, he's elated, and his heart is about to burst.

"Partly."

"How so?"

"Because you're about to take them off," you shamelessly say.

Chan wants to let go of all the things that hold him back. He brings both of your lips together, he kisses you like you're oxygen and he's short on air. He runs his hands down your back to your hips, cupping your sweet ass, and pulls you even closer. You struggle to get closer as he kisses you deep and hard your head tilted to the back, you weave your fingers through his hair as you pour yourself into the kiss.

Everything that happened before this is in the past now, all he knows now is your taste and the hot sighs of your breath, and then this irrepressible want to devour you.

"I'm going to carry you to bed," Chan's plush lips brushing yours as he speaks.

The idea of carrying you to bed is highly appealing to him at the moment. He likes holding you and as messed up as it was, he wants to throw you onto the bed, in the most respectful way.

"Then what are you waiting for, kangaroo boy?"

A sharp gasp escapes your mouth as he swoops you into his arms and carries you in the direction of the bedroom. You have your arms looped around his neck to hold onto and place kisses along his jaw all the way to his bedroom.

Instead of throwing you onto the bed like he planned, he throws both of you onto the bed and it quakes, he immediately props an elbow against the mattress to not put his weights on you.

"God, you're so beautiful," his sigh tells how overwhelmed he is by what he's seeing and what a privilege that he's able to place kisses on such beauty.

When you try to gasp a mouthful of air, he breathes it into you with his hand resting on your jaw, you look up at him, and a starburst of emotion expands inside him. He thinks you see it in his eyes because you softly smile at him.

Giving you time to breathe, he shifts his focus elsewhere, he kisses and sucks on your neck, all the while his hands are keeping your body closely pressed against him, making you aware of the firm flesh prodding your crotch through his blue jeans.

The next thing is his mouth searching for the source of the heat and your body goes into total system failure as his mouth inches closer to where you want him. Between your thighs, you flush and tingle with wanting.

"This smell..." he hums as he buries his nose in your clothed sex, making you able to feel every sharp intake of air he inhales through his nose.

He pries his mouth open and plants it on your heating wetness, not caring about the lacy fabric that blocks him from tasting it raw.

"Mmh..." he deeply hums again, almost like the low roar of a wild animal hunting at night, "I want this smell all over me."

The intensity of your desire frightens and embarrasses you at the same time, you need a little control but control is gone when Chan tugs the waistband of your underwear between his teeth and begins to pull it down your legs.

He places his hands on the back of your thighs and slowly, lifts both of your legs upward as he keeps biting your underwear. You're watching as he tries to take it off of you with such determination.

Once he succeeds, he grabs the underwear from between his teeth and holds it up to show you his latest conquest, "Twisted panties no more," he says with a sly grin.

Instead of tossing it aside, he puts the underwear into the back pocket of his jeans, "I'm keeping it."

There are so many layers of clothing keeping him from feeling your skin but he can start by removing his t-shirt, having no problems showing you his taut muscles and his pale skin that reddens around the chest, neck, and both ears.

Next, Chan grabs your knees, he pulls them apart to bare your sex to his eyes and his chest expands on a sharp inhalation. The look on his face tells it all, he wants you, he wants you so bad that he swallows air, sending his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat.

It's the first time that he gets to see it open and bare, gushing with essence, tantalizing. He leisurely takes his time to admire it while plotting things he wants to do to it.

He rubs his hands down the sides of your thighs and lowly sighs, without his eyes straying away from the sight between your legs, he says, "You have the prettiest little—”

He thinks he's imagining it but he's not the only one hearing knocks on his apartment door. Sensing someone else's presence, your legs instinctively shut and you pull the hem of your dress down.

"Chris, are you expecting someone?" You ask with your forehead wrinkled in question.

"No," he shortly answers, he doesn't want you to think that he's waiting for someone else other than you, "I don't—"

The knocking comes again a while later, a little too aggressive that both of you can't ignore it anymore.

"Someone is knocking on your door," you say.

"Yeah, but I swear, I don't—"

You place your hand on his waist and look at him, "well, then, get the door and find out."

He'd rather have someone sawing him off of you than having to voluntarily get away from you, whoever this person is will be responsible for what's not going down at this moment.

"Only if you promise you won't change your mind," he tells you with a sly smirk.

"If you don't hurry and get the door, I might," you say back.

"Stay still. Don't move. Not even an inch," he pecks your lips for every warning with both hands cupping your face. He plants another long peck on your lips before dashing toward the front door and thinking of just sending this person away so he can get back to you.

This is where he makes a mistake. He doesn't check through the peephole and opens the door right away, having the faintest idea that catastrophe awaits on the other side of the door.

"Ah, there you are!" The girl says, jumping at him and immediately locking lips with him.

It happens so fast that by the time Chan registers it, the girl pulls away but keeps her arms looped around his shoulders.

"I came here as soon as I received your text," she grabs his chin and kisses his slacked-open mouth, "I hope I didn't make you wait long."

On the other end of the room, he hears your footsteps coming and soon, you come into his sight. You look so calm and he'd prefer a raging sea because with calm water, he never really knows what he's dealing with.

With an enigmatic smile, you look at him and say, "You know what, Chris? I change my mind."

-

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[lipglossanon]

Desire (I’m Hungry)

Corrupt Cop!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

<< previous installment >>

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Leon POV, dark thoughts, being filmed without consent aka Leon’s making a sex tape and reader has no clue, dirty talk, daddy kink, kissing, biting, blood kink, oral (m & f receiving), pussy spanking, clit biting, unprotected sex, creampie

not proofread ✌️

today marks one year that I officially published my first Leon x reader fic that just happened to be Corrupt Cop Leon! 💜 so happy anniversary to the OG! 😘

Title from Desire by Meg Myers 💜

It’s not unusual to see a police cruiser parked outside the library on any given night. Especially when you’re inside, finishing up whatever class work you can before heading home. 

Leon leans back against the passenger door, one leg crossed over the ankle of the other, arms folded over his chest. His walkie’s turned off since he’s not on duty and he can hear the whispers of people passing him by, from the curious looks of kids to loose women giving him sultry smiles. Except for a cursory glance, his mind doesn’t linger on any single one of them. 

Drumming his fingers on his bicep, he tilts his head as he catalogs the outside of the building. He’s done this a thousand times at this point. Even before you knew he came around, when he would follow you home and watch you from his squad car. He kind of misses those days.    

The sound of a door opening pulls his attention up the library steps. Once you fully step out into the cool evening air, your eyes immediately seek him out. Satisfaction coils deep in his gut as your face breaks out into a bright smile at seeing him. Although he loved quietly following you, having you seek him out is much better. His eyes track your body as you carefully take the stairs and walk over to him. 

He only had to chastise you one time about not rushing down the steps. (You cried so prettily on his cock after he spanked your pussy raw. But the lesson stuck and he hasn’t had to remind you once, such a good girl). 

“Hi,” your soft voice hits his ears and he’s smirking at your shyness. 

“Hi, pretty girl, ready to go?”

You nod, “All set. Thank you for taking me home.”

“Of course, don’t want you getting hurt,” he murmurs, uncrossing his arms to brush a thumb across your cheekbone, “here, let me take your bag.”

Eyes fond, you hand him your book bag and wait for him to open the passenger door for you. Watching as you sit, he sees when your skirt rucks up around your thighs and it makes his blood run hot, pulse quickening in his neck. He walks around the trunk of the car, placing your bag in the back before climbing into the driver seat. 

He checks his mirrors and blind spots before pulling away from the curb. As soon as he’s on the street, his hand grips the dough of your thigh closest to the gear shift. A giddy thrum of excitement bleeds through his thoughts when he hears your little gasp. You’re so easy for him. His pretty, perfect girl. 

He no longer stifles those thoughts or impulses that once might have gotten him locked up. You invite his dark urges in with wet eyes and an even wetter cunt. Today’s special even if you don’t know it. He’s planned a little surprise, something he’s been wanting to do for a while now. 

Glancing out of the corner of his eye, he watches you surreptitiously, taking in the  changing expressions as he drives closer and closer to your house. Just seeing your face makes him ache all the way down to his marrow. He wants to sink his teeth into you until he tastes blood.

“Should we eat out for dinner?”

He glances over at you and tightens his fingers, giving your thigh a quick squeeze. 

“Sure, sweetheart.”

He parks outside your house, letting you walk up to your front stoop first as he grabs your bag. You unlock the door as soon as he joins you, his hand palming your lower back to usher you into the house. Dropping your school bag down onto the floor, he uses both hands to grip your hips, pushing you back against the closed front door. 

Desire pulses throughout his body, a deep seated hunger that makes him want to crack open your rib cage and crawl inside. He’s sure your beating heart would sate this visceral reaction to the possessive want that engulfs his thoughts.

But kissing you will have to suffice for now. 

Your lips part on a sigh as he licks into your mouth, tongue greedy and hot as he tastes you deeply. His fingers dig into your skin, thumbs pressed uncomfortably against your hip bones; he gloats to himself as the twinge of pain has you arching into him. If he could, Leon would rip you apart at the seams, swallow you whole til nothing’s left. 

You whimper into his harsh kisses while your hands grab onto his chest, badge nearly pricking your fingers as you try to find purchase against his uniform. He lets go of your waist to circle his fingers around your wrists, pushing them against the door on either side of your head. Pulling back, his sea dark eyes take in your dilated pupils and swollen lips. 

Now, he thinks, is the perfect time to drag you into your room.

Leon kisses you again, heatedly, pulling you into the bedroom with little preamble. For the surprise he’s been planning, he made sure to sneak into your house earlier in the day. He then hid a camera perfectly angled on your nightstand where you couldn’t see it. 

His mouth waters at the thought of filming everything he wants to do to you. Excitement heightens his aggressiveness. He can’t wait to take you apart in front of the lens, especially without you knowing. He shivers as he licks hungrily into your mouth. 

“Leon,” you whisper when he drags his mouth down to bite your neck, “thought we were going out to dinner?”

“Well, I am gonna eat you out,” he crudely states with a grin, “but first let’s see those pretty tits.”

Biting your bottom lip softly, you step back and pull your shirt off. His eyes watch as you nervously take off your bra and drop it into the floor with your shirt. Leon lets his hands reach out to grope and pinch your hard nipples. His cock throbs where it’s trapped in his pants.

“Get naked, pretty girl, wanna see you,” he coaxes, smile wicked when you do as he says.

Sitting on the edge of your bed, he faces the camera, pulling you down into his lap, your back to his chest. The juxtaposition of having you completely naked on his lap while he’s in uniform makes him bite down on your shoulder hard. You squeal and try to move, but he wraps his arms around you, pinning you in place. 

After you settle down, his hands move to squeeze the fat of your breasts until it dimples between his fingers. Your nipples tighten even further under his palms as he runs them across the stiff buds. 

“Such a good girl,” he kisses the side of your neck, eyes glinting when they look over to the hidden device, “bet that cute pussy’s soaked, sweetheart.”

Squirming against him, you whine pitifully, grinding your wet cunt down onto his bulge, “Daddy, please.”

“Such a well mannered girl,” he coos sweetly, luring you into relaxing against him further. 

The flat of his fingers come down in a hard slap against your pussy, a sharp gasp parting your pretty lips. Leon spanks across your fat cunt until you’re hiccuping little cries, tears streaming down your face to drip onto your chest. Even with the pain, you still part your legs for him, letting him drag his fingers across your wet slit. 

He wonders absently as he toys with your clit if you’d let him bite you here, sink his teeth in your sweet little bud til you scream. That thought alone has precum dripping from his tip, making his briefs damp. 

“Such a slutty cunt,” he whispers in your ear, feeling you shiver, “like when daddy shows you who’s in charge, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir,” you sniffle wetly. 

That ugly need to hurt you ramps up again and he pinches your clit roughly until you bleat in pain. 

“Good girl,” he chuckles, fingers softly petting your cunt, “my perfect girl.”

“All yours, daddy,” you automatically respond. 

Your voice is hoarse from all your crying and it makes his chest burn like his solar plexus is caving in.

“That’s right,” he croons, cupping your breasts in his hands, thumbs swiping across your nipples, “daddy’s got such a smart pretty girl.”

He wants to laugh at how those words make you press against him, praise making you stupid and pliant for him.

“Get on the floor,” he pushes at your shoulders, “think that sweet mouth deserves a reward.”

Eagerly, you slide off his lap onto your knees, turning around to face him. He unbuckles his belt and undoes his pants, pushing them down his thighs so he can tuck his briefs underneath his balls comfortably. His weeping cock bobs in front of your face, tip brushing across your cheek and smearing precum across your skin. 

“Kiss it, baby, show me how much you want daddy in your mouth,” he grins at you. 

Your shyness just makes him harder as you press a feather light kiss to his dick. He watches as your lips and tongue work in tandem to gently kiss and lick at his fat cockhead. You sigh hard enough he feels the dampness of your breath before your tongue lathes underneath the foreskin, lapping up the sticky precum dripping from his slit. You moan while you taste him, eyes fluttering closed as you get more and more eager at sucking him off. 

Thighs twitching, he grunts when you suck him into your warm mouth, tongue cupping the head when you withdraw, lips tightly wrapped around the tip of his dick. He feels as you circle the head of his cock with your tongue, dipping the slick muscle into his slit to draw out more precum. 

“Good girl,” he groans when your mouth drops down to kiss and suck at his balls. 

Leon keeps his gaze on you as you try to suck both of his balls into your wet mouth, whimpering when you can only fit one. Smearing your own spit across your face, you nuzzle into his squishy sac, mouthing and lapping at the sensitive skin before sucking each of his balls again. 

Whining, you eagerly lap at his sac, tongue slowly tracing up the seam. Your lips meet the base of his cock before you flick your tongue back around his balls. Reaching down, he grabs the back of your neck, pulling your mouth up to suck on his cock. A choked off moan reverberates around his dick as your lips part to sink down around the first few inches. His abs tense when he feels the spit drip down his dick onto his balls. 

“So good, sweetheart,” he murmurs, halfway tempted to gag you on his dick— maybe even choke you on it til you pass out.

More precum blurts across your tongue as he pictures your eyes rolling back, body going limp from lack of air. His fingers spasm around your neck as the tip bumps into the back of your throat. Bucking up into your mouth, the tightness around his cock increases and you retch loudly. 

“Take it or I’m going to get mean with you,” he narrows his eyes down at you.

You cough again, a wet dirty sound as he pulls his cock halfway out of your mouth only to press back in deep, the fat head kissing the back of your throat immediately. It would be easy to keep you here, swallowing around him til he came or you blacked out. His eyes cut to the hidden camera before flicking back down to you. Maybe next time he’ll try it, but for now he wants to make this last longer for the video. 

Rolling his neck til it cracks, he lets you go, watching with hidden glee as you pull off with a gross coughing fit and wet eyes. The dough of your thighs press together drawing his gaze where he can actually see a light sheen of slick coating them. Taking a hitched shuddery breath, you lean forward and kitten lick the head, soft tongue cleaning up any precum spilling from the slit down his cock. 

A flash of your mouth split open and a bloody chin makes Leon place his hands under your armpits and yank you up, turning sideways to toss you onto the bed. He crawls on top of you and kisses you hard enough to bruise. Sinking teeth into your lower lip, he brings his vision to life as he works the wet skin til it splits, the warm taste of pennies flooding his mouth. 

Growling like an animal, he sucks your bloody lip raw. He finally leans up, taking in the mess of your mouth with unreasonable pride. 

“So pretty,” he smiles down at you, blood coating his teeth, “my sweet girl.”

“Yours,” you nod dazedly, eyes blown in arousal, “m’yours, daddy.” 

He moves off the bed and begins to undress, taking extra care to set his holster and gun on top of your dresser. Once his uniform is off, he lays it out on a nearby chair in order to keep it off the floor. It just wouldn’t do to get it unnecessarily dirty. 

He climbs back onto the bed, eyes zeroing in on your bleeding mouth with the awareness of a predator tracking prey. He smiles and grabs your thighs, shoving them up until they’re nearly touching your shoulders. 

“Think it’s time I kiss my sweet girl hello,” his eyes drop from yours down to your soaked cunt, “aww, she always cries so hard for me, baby.”

He shuffles down onto his stomach, hands still pressing on your thighs as he leans in and kisses your swollen cunt.

“Greedy little pussy,” he chuckles derisively, “always begging for more.”

He slides his hands down from your thighs to the outside of your cunt, pulling your pussy lips apart to spit on your clenching hole. 

“Daddy!” 

He hears your voice crack before you gasp when he plunges his tongue into your pussy, fluttering the wet muscle as deep as possible into your spasming walls. You always taste like heaven, like he could die suffocated on your cunt and he’ll never find anything better. His eyes roll back when your slick floods his mouth, clit fat and swollen against his nose as your cunt squeezes down on his tongue.

Leon’s tongue laps at your hole before he runs the wet muscle up your slit to suck sloppily at your clit. He’s being as messy as possible; he knows you love it when your cunt’s coated in his spit after eating you out. The only thing better is when he cums all over your pussy, making you wear your panties to keep that sweet cunt wet and sticky with his seed. 

Your cries and whines fall on deaf ears as he eats you out at his leisure. He makes you cum twice before finally trying out the little earworm that has eaten away at his brain since earlier. Thighs shaking from the last orgasm, you're completely out of it when Leon dips his head and bites down on your fat throbbing clit. 

He growls and humps the bed as you thrash under him, hips trying to buck up to throw him off, hands digging into his hair but he doesn’t budge. He closes his teeth even tighter around your swollen bud and you screech, legs kicking out at him. Leon laughs at you, arms coming up and pinning your lower half down onto the bed. He readjusts his mouth and bites your clit harder than before. 

“No, no, daddy! Please!”

You sob brokenly and Leon feels like he’s going to cum all over the sheets. Letting go, Leon pulls his mouth away for a second wanting to see your tortured little bundle of nerves. It looks so swollen that it makes his jaw ache. He licks and kisses over your clit until you’re whimpering in pleasure, hips writhing as Leon bathes your cunt with rough swipes of his tongue. He works you up to another orgasm and right as your pussy cums, clenching around nothing, he sinks his teeth back into your clit with a groan. 

“Daddy, daddy! Leon, please!”

Your cunt gushes slick as the pain morphs into pleasure, babbling and pleading for more even as Leon sucks your bud into his mouth, hot tongue circling your abused clit. 

“Ready for daddy to to fuck your pretty little cunt?” He rumbles, tongue lashing across your bundle of nerves making you whine. 

“Please, daddy.”

There’s drool and blood all down your chin and he thinks you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid his eyes upon. If he were a better man, he would tell you so. 

Leon crawls back up your body, dragging his cock against your thighs until the tip bumps against your sopping wet pussy. His eyes catalog your wince when his dick drags across your clit and he kisses you until spit runs down your jaw. Balancing himself on one forearm, he brings his other hand down to notch the tip of his cock at your soaked hole. 

“Let me in, pretty girl,” he licks up the blood on your chin as he works his cock into your cunt, “let me stuff this soft little pussy with cum.”

Keening high in your throat, you grind your head against the pillow and Leon takes that opportunity to savagely bite into the side of your neck. He can feel you wheeze in pain underneath his teeth at the same time your pussy walls flutter and clamp down on his cock. Sweet satisfaction hums like electricity in his blood. He trails kisses from the nasty bite mark up to your ear, nipping the lobe. 

“You like what I do to you, don’t you, sweetheart?” He kisses your temple before shifting until his forearms are on either side of your neck, hips rolling back before thrusting forward. 

The tight clutch of your pussy makes him dizzy with lust, knowing he can do anything to you and you’ll not only take it, but like it. The camera is practically an afterthought by this point. Leon’s focus is now on making your hot little pussy cream all over his cock before he shoots his load deep into your hole. 

“Always take it so well,” his baritone rumbles low in his chest and you shudder under him, “got daddy addicted to your soft chubby pussy, baby, always wanna be buried in her.”

Your nails dig into his skin but he loves the stinging scratches you leave on him; proof that you need him just as much as he needs you. He has half a mind to drag this out for hours and hours, but he really wants to send the tape over to Chris. Smugly show off his pretty girl and the sweet sounds she makes for him. 

Leon prides himself on keeping his cool even when he’s buried to the hilt inside your deliciously hot pussy. This time, his nerves fray quicker than he’s used to; too many fun things have happened and all in front of the camera so he can look back on it later. Being able to watch your face again as he bites your clit makes his hips rabbit fast and hard against yours, pussy squelching loudly between your bodies. 

“Got me so worked up,” he laughs, one forearm moving all he can glide his fingers down your side and across your hip, seeking out your sore clit, “squeeze the cum out of me, sweetheart, let daddy give you a nice thick creampie.”

“Ohhh,” you moan shakily, “daddy, please, w’nt it.”

“You’re gonna get it,” he promises, voice dark, “you’re gonna take everything I give you.”

The hot pulsing walls of your pussy makes his hips flex harder, bullying his cock into your cervix, needing to get as deep as possible in your body. 

“Sucking me in,” he murmurs, fingers gently circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, “your sweet cunt’s made for this, isn’t she baby?”

“Yes, Leon, ‘m made for you,” you babble out, eyelashes sticking together from tears as you pant and moan, “daddy, I’m g’nna cum.”

“Fuck, then do it, pretty girl, cream all over me, work this cum into that sweet hole,” he groans when your walls clamp down on his dick. 

He swipes across your clit a few more times as he ruts his cock in and out of your pussy, grinding the fat tip across your g-spot until your back arches, a loud scream pouring from your mouth. 

“Good girl,” he praises, knowing you can't hear him, “doing so well for me, sweetheart.”

As your soft walls pulse and flutter around his dick, he adjusts his hands to hold him up above your body so he can rail you into the mattress. 

“Too much,” you whimper, “Leon, s’too deep.”

“Shhh,” he reaches down to twist a nipple until you clench around his cock, “let me rearrange those guts, baby, daddy needs to cum, too.”

You nod, tears falling down your temples to collect on the pillow and his hips snap harder— the sight of you crying on his cock always does him in quick. He thrusts half a dozen more times before his hips begin to stutter. Burying himself balls deep, Leon’s cock kicks and throbs while he spills hot sticky cum all inside your clenching pussy walls. 

While he fills your cunt with rope after rope of thick jizz, he groans long and low against your ear, “Perfect baby, taking it so well for me.”

“Leon,” you whisper lightly, hands carding through his hair and giving him goosebumps.

He settles his body weight down on you, cock plugging up your pussy so his cum doesn’t leak out onto the bedspread. 

“Gotta surprise for you,” he kisses the side of your head and slowly maneuvers until he can quickly shuffle you around to face the hidden lens. 

He pulls out his half chubbed cock, cream colored slick oozing from your pussy when he spreads it open. 

Smiling up at you, he nods to your nightstand, “Smile for the camera, sweetheart. Show’em what a messy little pussy looks like.”

He watches in utter delight as your brows pinch together before realization dawns across your face. Tears bead in your eyes and he chuckles. 

“Aww don’t be that way,” he croons, fingers digging into your used hole to work more cum into spilling out between your thighs, “be a good girl and let everyone see the creampie daddy left in your pretty cunt.”

Your cubby lips stay spread as he fingers more of his cum out of your hole. 

“So swollen baby,” he groans, fingers glancing across your fat clit, “can’t wait to watch this back.”

You squirm but he catches the hitched breath and dilated eyes. Grinning darkly, he nuzzles against your ear. 

“Maybe next time it’ll be a livestream of how I ream my pretty girl’s tight little pussy,” he kisses the shell of your ear as you moan quietly, “yeah, or maybe we’ll get someone in to watch me take you apart.”

You shiver and writhe against him, pussy sucking his fingers in even as he slowly drags them out of your spent cunt. 

“Guess we’ll need to save that for later though,” he clicks his tongue, moving away from you to shut the camera off, “now let’s go get a shower so we can go out to dinner, sweetheart.”

[scar-lie]

Welcome to my Year End Tober—This is suppose to be a whole year dates to be publish of my works and I can't wait next year so I'm starting November until December 25-Christmas

All of this one shots; Chapters; and parts will be publish this year, mostly of these are request, so all the request I have since the beginning that I haven't yet publish are on these 38 days Cherrylemontober

These 38 days will be a whirlwind, it's a mixed fanfic genre (Angst, Fluff and Smut) but half of these are smut, every smut post will have 18+ sign, and will be tagged/have a warning below

For those who want to be tagged, I will be commenting on the date along with the title individually, and kindly reply to the date/title you wanted to be tagged

For those who send me request, thank you and sorry for the long wait

(My fics Requests are open today until the end of January)

November 18

Threesome Pt. 2 18+ (Dom N x Switch M x Sub R)

TW : Threesome, oral (R), Hickeys, lactation, creampie, cumming on boobs,R wanting a baby and imagining a baby bump, aftercare, N have penis

November 19

DNA Pt. 2 (Actress S x Actress R)

TW : hurt, overthinking, cut, a little bit of blood

November 20

Omega Pt. 16 (Alpha N x Omega R)

TW : Doubting, R feeling devastated and disappointed, crying

November 21

Crazy Love Pt. 3 Ver. 2 (Natasha x Reader, Athena x Hela)

TW : Tough training, protective mothers (Thena and Hela)

November 22

Distraction 18+ (Sub N x Dom R)

TW : Grinning, teasing, kissing, groping, cockwarming, Nat being stress so R is to the rescue, N have penis

November 23

Omega Pt. 17 (Alpha N x Omega R)

TW : crying, slap on the check, bruises, panicking, Nat being hurt

November 24

Omega Pt. 18 (Alpha N x Omega R)

TW : Worried R, annoyed R, cut, blood, bruise, hurt N

November 25

3 A.M. 18+ (Pervert N x Sleepy R)

TW : pervert N, fingering, teasing, dry humping, somnophilia, cockwarming, N have penis

November 26

Cockblocked Pt. 3 18+ (Wife S x Wife R)

TW : frustrated S, teasing, dry humping, handjob, sneaky touches, S being hard all the time, S trying to drive away the kids, S have penis

November 27

Widow Pt. 2 (Natasha x Reader)

TW : Sad N, retirement, depressed N, flashbacks, Lazy N

November 28

Save us Pt. 2 (Natasha x Reader x Scarlett)

TW : R having cold (cough and runny nose), Stomach ache, vomiting, R feeling unwell, caring S and N

November 29

Peeping Wanda 18+ (Dom N x Sub R x Switch W)

TW : Pervert W, handjob, oral (N, R ,W), DP, doggystyle, sex show, W getting caught, rough sex, threesome, W and N have penis

November 30

Baby Cupid (Mother S x Teacher R)

TW : Rose got Bullied, Rose playing baby Cupid, sweet R

December 1

My Fluffy Big Wolf (Human N x Werewolf R)

TW : N finding out R is a werewolf, werewolf, cuddling, movie night, sleepy R

December 2

My Wife(Omega Drabble) 18+ (Alpha N x Omega R)

TW : Rumlow flirting with R, shy R, Oblivion R, sex show, rough sex, knotting, penetration, blood, cut, beaten Rumlow, Rumlow being tied up, N showing who R belongs, oral (R), fingering, N have penis

December 3

DNA pt. 3 (Actress S x Actress R)

TW : S is in denial, R being cold to S, hurt R, scared S

December 4

Baby Bump 18+ (Wife S x Pregnant R)

TW : weird food cravings, mood swings, high sex drive, soft into rough sex, armpit smelling, biting, nipping, S have penis

December 5

Sex Tape Pt. 2 18+ (Scarlett x Reader x Elizzabeth)

TW : sextape, fistfight, blood, worried R, angry S and L, rough sex, fingering, 69, blackmailing, L threaten R, sex slave, S have penis

December 6

Filled 18+ (Switch N x Sub W x Male R)

TW : W want to try new things in the bedroom, DP, fingering, oral (R, N, W), rough sex, sex record, overstimulation, orgasm control, N have penis

December 7

Omega Pt. 19 (Alpha N x Omega R)

TW : Fluff, presents, sweet Natasha, house decorating, protective N

December 8

Sexting 18+ (Scarlett x Reader)

TW : Nude pictures and Videos, sexting, hard S, teasing, rough sex, creampie, S have penis

December 9

Baby Fever(Omega Drabble) (Alpha N x Omega R)

TW : Shopping spree, N spoiling her family, cute baby clothes, N having Baby fever, protective and possessive R, R trying to stop N for buying too much

December 10

I Love You 18+ (Dom N x Sub R)

TW : Teasing, dry humping, handjob, outdoor sex, car sex, making out, fingering, cuddle and movie night, N have penis

December 11

My Baby (Natasha X Reader)

TW : Torturing, cut, blood, miscarriage, cold R, N tries to talk to R, N finding out what happened, angst

December 12

My CEO 18+ (CEO R x Bodyguard N)

TW : Weapons, Fingering, R wants to be a housewife, N being the new CEO, rough sex, oral (N), teasing, marking, creampie, N have penis

December 13

Behind the Curtain 18+ (Scarlett x Reader)

TW : Sneaky touches, cheating, fingering, quickie, S have penis

December 14

Will You Be My Girlfriend (Actress S x Intern R)

TW : S being a jerk, hurt R, Betting, R being cold to S, Sad S,

December 15

Relaxing night (Wife S x Wife R)

TW : Fluff, cuddle, bath, movie night

December 16

Back Door 18+ (Scarlett x Reader)

TW : S wants to try anal sex, fingering, oral (S), vibrator, dildo, soft sex turn into rough sex, anal creampie, R have penis

December 17

Her Soft Side(Omega Drabble) (Alpha N x Omega R)

TW : Sweet N, picnic date, flower picking, N making flower bracelet, fluff

December 18

Like Mother Like Daughter (Mother N x Daughter R)

TW : Hardheaded R, strict N, strict training, R and R have attitude to each other, R getting injured, blood, cuts, bruises

December 19

Save Us Pt. 3 (Natasha x Reader x Scarlett)

TW : N and S trying to make things right, R giving them a second chance

December 20

Good Pet 18+ (Dom S x Sub R)

TW : Vibrator, teasing, orgasm control, overstimulation, rough sex, S have penis

December 21

Naive Baby (Jealous N x Naive R)

TW : friendly R, jealous N, flirting, fist fight

December 22

Till Death Do Us Part (Wife R x Wife N)

TW : brain tumor, sad R and N, R trying to divorce N, angry N, angst, fluff

December 23

My Big Scary Wolf(Omega Drabble) (Alpha N x Omega R)

TW : N wanting to be babied, soft N, cuddling, hair combing and braiding, N in wolf form

December 24

You Look So Beautiful Pt. 2 18+ (Dom S x Sub R)

TW : fingering, rough sex, sex recording, creampie, overstimulation, aftercare, S dragging about R on internet, S have pemis

December 25

Omega Pt. 20 (Alpha N x Omega R)

TW : Fluff, decorating, Christmas gifts, foods, soft N

[makeitmingi]

Cause Baby You're My Muse [Chapter 51]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.2K

Comeback season was in full swing. The promotional interview and showcase were a success, the public was hyped up for the titles songs and the album. The ATINY and other Kpop fans were making the song trend.

'Just did the first sound check. I'll see you tonight! - Mings'

'I'll be there to cheer all of you on. I'm excited to see what a music show taping is like. - Indigo'

Tonight at M Countdown, Ateez was going for 1st place against another group for the title song. If they win, it would be the first 1st place trophy this comeback season.

This was also your first time seeing the filming and performance venue of a real music show so you were excited to see the process.

"Why am I feeling nervous when I'm not even performing?" You chuckled. But you believed in the boys and the power of ATINY to win 1st place.

'An overnight hit to kick start their comeback. But who is this new producer in KQ?'

'The other hit songs produced by Producer Indigo, the mysterious producer, who played a big part in producing the new comeback song and album for Ateez.'

Another thing with this comeback was that people were now curious about you and who you were. There were some articles. Thankfully, there were no leaks to any information about you. You stayed off social media so that front was safe. There was no gender, no face, no name to use to find you.

Although, some people have been trying to reach you through the server that music artists and companies usually use to engage you.

'Hi Producer Indigo. I'm an ATINY! I'm not sure if you will ever read this or if this is really the only way to contact you. But thank you for your hard work, the ATINYs appreciate you!'

'I think you gel well with the Ateez boys. Can you tell me what it's like working with them? From a curious ATINY'

'How do you capture each of the boys' musical personality and put it together in a song? This song is like a perfect blend of all the boys.'

'Are you a girl? Is your identity being hidden because you're dating an Ateez member?'

You finally understood what people meant when they spoke about the extreme some fans would go to. Some questions were really personal, as if you would reply to them. But most of the ATINY sent messages of compliments to you.

"Oh, I need to get ready." You went to shower and change into some outing clothes. One of the Ateez managers were going to take you to the M Countdown film site.

'Mings, what should I wear? - Baby'

'Hahahaha. You're so cute, baby. It doesn't matter since you will be backstage with us in the room. Wear anything you want. - Mings'

'Anything? Well, I guess this is the perfect time to pull out my ball gown then. I'm asking because I might see some other artists there so I don't want to dress like a slop. - Baby'

'If you wanna wear a ball gown, go ahead! But you're far from a slop, baby, no matter what you wear. - Mings'

With a sigh, you picked out some ripped jeans, a short sleeves turtle neck and an oversized black hooded bomber jacket.

"Sorry for the wait, manager nim." You said as you climbed into the van while fixing the mask over your face. M Countdown meant there would be fans and you did not want to risk anyone seeing you or being suspicious of your identity so you even brought a cap if the hood and mask weren't enough.

"No worries, Indigo. We're glad you could make it. The boys are excited for you to be there at your first music show taping." He chuckled and began to drive.

"I'm nervous. Not sure what to expect." You chuckled.

"Nothing to be nervous about. Just follow our lead on where to go and you'll be fine." He assured.

"Before I forget. Here. You will need to wear this to get in and out of places. Plus, the security won't think you're a fan that snuck in and try to kick you out." He handed you an Ateez crew tag to wear.

"Thank you. Definitely wouldn't want to be kicked out of my first show." You laughed as you slipped it over your head.

"Omg, who is that?" As the van went past, some fans waiting otuside the venue pointed at your van.

"Don't worry, they can't see you. But every time there's a security van, they think a celebrity is inside." The manager told you as he waited for the guard the check the van's number plate before letting the van drive into the carpark.

"Alright, let's go." He parked the van. You checked your reflection in your phone to make sure that your mask and cap was adjust well then pulled your hood up.

"Just follow me." He waited for you. You trailed behind him, tucked your hands into your pockets.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

"Ah! Someone save me!" You were nearly mowed down by Wooyoung who was being chased by Jongho. But luckily, the manager tugged you out of harm's way.

"Kids! Stop yelling and running around! You're being a nuisance!" Hongjoong scolded. That was when he stopped, staring at you weirdly for a few seconds before he recognised you.

"Oh my gosh, Indi. You scared me! You're wrapped up, I can hardly see you." He put a hand over his chest. He wrapped his arms around you to hug you. You let out soft giggles of happiness, you've missed him. With his arm around your shoulders, he led you into the dressing room where the others were.

"It's the masked stranger." He announced.

"Indigo. We're glad you could make it." San grinned and came over. He hooked an arm around you, patting you on the back.

"Hwa~" You waved to Seonghwa through the mirror as he was getting his hair and make up done. He reached to the back to hold your hand, swinging it happily.

"You look really handsome, Hwa." You complimented.

"Thank you. How have you been?" He asked, changing the subject as his ears got red from your compliment.

"Good. I'm going to say hi to the others. I'll be back." You said briefly and patted his shoulder before going to greet the others. Yunho hugged you, teetering from side to side as he laughed.

"He's glaring at me, isn't he?" He whispered playfully. Your eyes shifted and saw Mingi staring at you and Yunho through the mirror. If looks could kill, Yunho would be six feet under. You hummed in reply to Yunho, trying your best not to laugh.

"It's less hectic than I thought it would be back here." You noted as you leaned against Yunho's larger frame.

"Because we already did the sound check so it's just getting ready. That's why Yeosangie is sleeping." Yunho nodded over to the male.

"How is he so pretty even when he sleeps?" You scoffed.

"That's the question on everyone's mind." Yunho chuckled. Soon, you both felt an ominous shadow looming over the both of you. You turned around to see Mingi there.

"It's your turn." He frowned, almost snapping at his best friend. Yunho snickered, patting your head before walking away.

"Hi, Mingi." You looked up at him with a small wave.

"Hey." Mingi breathed out, trying to keep his jealousy at bay. Even if he couldn't see the rest of your face, he could see the playful glint in your eyes. If he could, he would back you against the wall and kiss you in front of everyone now, just to show that you're his, but he had to control himself.

"Wait, why was Wooyoung getting beat up by Jongho again?" You asked, remembering the youngest chasing after Wooyoung when you entered the room earlier.

"Why do you still bother asking at this point? Wooyoung always does something that gets him beat up by the maknae." Hongjoong sighed.

"He provokes Jongho but gets scared when Jongho retaliates." You replied with a scoff.

Mingi subtly nodded over to the couch and you sat next to each other. It didn't seem out of the ordinary with the way the side of his thigh pressed against yours. No one thought anything of it.

"Did you come from your home or the office?" He asked. Of course he knew the answer, he just wanted to talk to you.

"Home. I had a meeting with those drama producers regarding their OST and sent over the final revision earlier today. So now my focus now will be Wooyoung's recorded song cover, get that ready for the first round of submission and review with Eden." You informed.

"Hopefully things can slow down a bit for you. You deserve a break, Indigo. You're always working in your studio, day and night." Mingi smiled. You nodded your head.

"Are you nervous for today?" You asked.

"There's always a bit of nerves but not too bad. If we win, we win, if not, that's fine. As long as we have a stage to perform, we're happy."

"That's a very optimistic way of looking at things. But I agree, there's no need to be nervous. I'm glad the song has been well received by everyone." You laughed.

"It's a great song. What's not to love?" Wooyoung asked, coming back into the room with Jongho behind him.

"Indigo~" He bent down to hug you. You squeezed him as he sat on your other side.

"We'll win today, for sure. For you. We'll make your first time at a music show a memorable one. You're our lucky charm, I just know it." He winked at you.

"Now that's some pressure on me." You joked.

"Just go and have fun, alright? I love watching you guys perform." You softened, feeling tears brim your eyes. There was a lump in your throat but you tried your best to swallow it. Luckily Wooyoung and Mingi were too distracted to notice the big but shaky breath you took to calm yourself down.

"We need Ateez backstage in 10 minutes." One of the stage crew came in. Hongjoong gathered the boys together to brief them. You sat there, watching them quietly.

"Whenever you're ready." The manager told them as Hongjoong wrapped up his words of encouragement.

"Do you want to watch them perform from backstage?" Another manager offered.

"Can I? I assumed I would be watching through the screen that's in here. I wouldn't want to be in the way or distract anyone." You chuckled. He nodded and waved for you to follow.

"It's your song after all." He added. You stood at the side, watching him and the others help the boys with their microphones.

"All the best, Ateez." You wished softly, wary of where you were. Seonghwa waved you over to where they were gathered in a circle. You blinked in confusion but obediently stood between him and Mingi. You looked at Seonghwa whispered something to Hongjoong while Mingi smiled softly at you.

"Today, we're 9 makes 1 team." Hongjoong said. The others nodded in agreement as they put their hands together in the center. You chewed on your lip as you put your hand on top of theirs.

"9 makes 1 team!" They all chanted as they threw their hands down. You didn't say anything but waved at them, you didn't trust your voice to not break.

"Ateez, ready for the stage." The crew announced and the fans cheered loudly as the boys went up.

"Aish." You wiped the stray tears that fell. Luckily the Ateez boys didn't see this.

"Here you go." One of the managers handed you a tissue.

"Ah, thank you. Sorry, I don't know why I'm tearing up." You laughed as you received the tissue with an embarrassed bow and quickly wiped the tears.

You watched the performance intently, giving them all your focus and attention because that was what they deserved after working so hard. You were so proud of them and this song. After the first recording was done, the boys interacted with the fans.

"Thank you for coming out and waiting for us. Do you like the song, ATINY?" San asked.

"Yes!" The fans all chimed.

"I'm glad to hear that. Like I said during the promotional interview and showcase, I think this is the first time all Ateez members were involved in the song writing and producing." Hongjoong said.

"But the hardwork was all worth it for you, ATINY." Yunho charmingly smiled at the fans, making them cheer again.

"Ateez members, ready for oneshot take. Positions." The director spoke into the microphone.

The boys did the another take of the performance and waved to the fans before exiting the stage. It took a lot of will power not to throw yourself at them to hug them.

"You all did so well." You told them as you walked alongside them to return to the dressing room. The boys all looked at you, feeling pride swell in their chest at the thought of making you so happy with their performance of the song. Yes, they worked hard on this song but you worked even harder.

"Sorry, is it okay if we have a short private meeting, please?" Hongjoong suddenly requested the few staff that were loitering in the dressing room.

"Sure." They all moved to the door, seemingly used to this. You were about to leave but Yeosang held your hand to stay.

"Now you can comfortably interact with us." Seonghwa smiled.

"You really did well. I was so proud watching you all perform on stage, I don't think I'll ever get tired of watching you perform." You said, hugging each other them.

"There's another reason we got people to leave the room." Yunho chuckled as you hugged Mingi last.

"Huh?" You were confused. But Mingi surprised you by yanking your mask down and pressing his lips against yours. He gently cupped your cheek as he smiled into the kiss. The other boys turned away to give you both some privacy.

"There. I've been wanting to do that since you walked in." Mingi panted as he pulled away, adjusting your mask over your face. You stared at him with a dazed look.

"Mings!" You finally realised what he just did and slapped his arm in embarrassment. How could he do that with the others here?

"What? Serves you right for hugging everyone else in front of me." Mingi smirked.

"And you! Think you could get away with hugging my girlfriend so close." Mingi glared at his best friend, slapping the back of his neck. Yunho just snickered.

"But you did great." You smiled, hugging Mingi. His arms hooked over your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

"Of course, I had my lucky charm with me right here." He said. You couldn't take too long or the staff might get suspicious so after another quick peck, Hongjoong opened the door for the other staff to come back in. He bowed in apology for making them leave but they waved him off, understanding the need for privacy.

"Everyone have your meal then we're back on stage for the announcement of today's first place." The manager said, wheeling in the food boxes on a trolley.

"Have you eaten?" Jongho asked you as he received the styrofoam box with his name.

"Yes. I ate before I came. Thanks." You told him.

"Here. I'm not feeling it today." Mingi handed you his drink, making sure to stick to straw in. It was watermelon juice, the song he would adorably made up on an Ateez logbook.

"You sure? It's your favourite..." You looked at him. Mingi couldn't help the lopsided smile that formed when he met eyes with you.

"It's fine. I'd rather finish my coffee." He said. You receive the drink, slipping the straw under your mask.

"Why are you all sitting on the floor? There are couches here with tables." You asked them while laughing, noticing how some of them were bent over awkwardly, trying to get food into their mouths. The space next to you and the adjacent couches were empty.

"Trust us, we've tried. They always like to sit on the floor and eat." The managers sighed, shaking their heads. You migrated to sit on the floow with them.

"Hehe, did you like the stage?" Wooyoung asked as you settled beside him.

"Yeah. It's very different compared to watching you guys dance in the pratice room for sure." You nodded your head.

"For one, we're not dressed in sweatpants, drenched in our own sweat in a stuffy room. There's pretty lights and costumes now." Seonghwa pointed out, laughing.

"You're always pretty, Hwa." You rolled your eyes, making Seonghwa blush at your offhanded compliment.

"What about me?!" Wooyoung exclaimed.

"All of you. You always look good, no matter where you are or what you wear. I'm sure the fans can attest to that." You corrected yourself. Hongjoong shook his head with a sigh at how they could all act like immature kids. When your phone rang, you stood up and moved to the bathroom to answer it.

"Finish up, brush your teeth and get ready to go on stage for awards." The managers said. You came out of the bathroom, tucking your phone back into your pocket.

"Everything okay?" Hongjoong asked. You nodded your head. The boys were rushed to brush their teeth after eating.

"Let's go!" The managers filed everyone out of the room. You weren't sure if you should go since the final stage with the other idols would be crowded.

"Come." Yeosang smiled and gestued for you to go with them. The stage crew got all the idols lined up to go on stage.

"Good luck, boys." You said softly to them. They smiled and waved to you before going up.

"Excuse me. Are you Producer Indigo?" One of the idols asked. You nodded your head, subconsciously pulling your hoodie over the cap a little tighter. He reached out to shake your hand.

"I heard from someone that you were here to support Ateez sunbaenims but didn't know if it was true. I'm a big fan of your work." He said enthusiastically. You bowed your head gratefully as his other group mates shook hands with you.

"Please move to the stage." The crew moved them away. But the other people backstage were suddenly aware of your presence.

"Come on, come on." You chanted to yourself. It was so noisy you couldn't really hear the announcers or see what was happening on the stage.

"And the first place goes to... ATEEZ! Congratulations!"

That was all you heard. You didn't care anymore, throwing your hands up in the air in excitement.

"Manager nim! We won!" You hugged the managers that were there, trying not to cry from happiness. They all patted your back, congratulating you as well.

"We would like to thank all the ATINYs who have been supporting us non-stop! Thank you to our CEO Kim, Edenary members, all the staff that work tirelessly! Also, this trophy goes to Producer Indigo and all the hardwork, time and effort put into the studio. Thank you, ATINY! We love you." Hongjoong said.

~

Series Masterlist

[babyrunsforfanfic]

The Mixtape Detectives

summary: in which eddie tries to be nancy drew

or; in which eddie finds mixtapes in your car and steve’s and decides that the two of you both have to be seeing someone! so he has nancy and robin help him try and figure out who… while they’re all completely missing the signs around them.

steve harrington x fem!reader

warnings/tags: “secret-relationship” trope, but they aren’t doing much to hide it everyone else is just oblivious, the reader and steve have opposite music tastes (steve listens to top 40’s and the reader listens to hard rock / metal), fruity four appearances, background robin x nancy, upside down never happened everyone lives ok, minor talk about steve having absent parents, minor drug use

wc: 3900ish

eddie munson grinned to himself as he drilled his fingers against his knee, his eyes hazy as he leaned his forehead against steve’s passenger side’s window. the glass was cool against his skin, and eddie snickered when steve leaned back in the driver’s seat.

“still alive over there?” steve teased, and eddie snickered again as he glanced toward steve. “i haven’t seen you this high in fucking ages, dude.”

“pretty sure ‘m jus-” eddie huffed as he bent down, fingers yanking open the glovebox right at his knees. “need music.”

“carefully just, fuck-” steve swerved as eddie harshly leaned back, tugging out two handfuls of loose tapes that steve had a bad habit of just.. throwing back into the glovebox. “stay steady dude i don’t want to have to get vomit out of my fucking car.”

“shut up!” eddie groaned as his fingers and rings clacked against the different plastic casings of the cassettes now in his lap. “stevie your music taste sucks.”

“hey!” steve hissed, and eddie couldn’t help but laugh as steve swatted his right hand toward him, left still firmly on the wheel. “bruce springsteen and elton john do not suck!”

“oh steve…” eddie trailed off, abandoning several cassette tapes that fall to the floor, even if steve did suck a sharp breath through his teeth. eddie’s brow pinched, fingers tapping against a cassette that didn’t have a title printed on it. “what’s this one?”

“oh uh-” steve tried to make a grab for it, but a car cutting in front of him forced him to slam his right hand onto the steering wheel. “is private.”

“oooh, pri-vate.” eddie stresses both syllables of the word, before he popped it into the radio and pressed play.

static happened for a second, before the intro of fucking ‘necropobic’ by slayer starts. eddie can’t help but immediately balk, especially since steve… steve doesn’t even seem like the music is bothering him. no, instead steve taps his fingers against the steering wheel, and he looks like he is at-fucking-ease.

steve and eddie don’t say anything for the entire two minutes the song plays, and eddie isn’t surprised when the next song that plays is ‘stranger in a strange land’ by iron maiden. eddie just watched, wide-eyed and mouth slightly agape, as steve harrington sings under his breath to fucking iron maiden. the same steve harrington who would jokingly complain about his ears bleeding whenever eddie had control of the radio.

when steve and eddie pull into his driveway, carefully parking behind nancy wheeler’s car- eddie is stunned when steve turns and grins at him after he’s turned the car off. his dark-tinted sunglasses are hanging near the tip of his nose, and steve harrington fucking winks.

“told you my music doesn’t suck, munson.”

•••

a week later, while steve is stuck waiting for his car in the only mechanic shop in hawkins— eddie is sitting in the basement of the harrington house, with nancy and robin sitting in front of him.

steve’s parents had long since moved away to who knows where, and apparently they were ok and trusted steve enough to make sure the house didn’t collapse on itself.

“can you repeat that?” nancy’s brown is furrowed, and robin is chomping on a popsicle stick as she eyed eddie intently. “you think what?”

“i think that our stevie boy is hooking up with someone!” eddie is adamant, and he points at the piece of paper he’d brought with him. he’d managed to sneak the mixtape out of steve’s car long enough to catalogue what songs it had on it. what eddie hadn’t expected was for steve to bang on his door, not even five minutes later, with his hands on his hips, looking for it. “stevie doesn’t listen to slayer, buckley!”

“it’s just music, eds-” nancy started, though the girl smiled as eddie huffed out a noise of disagreement.

“no! top 40’s is just music.” eddie jabbed his finger toward the paper, which nancy turned so she could look at the entire list. “steve ‘the king’ harrington does not listen to alice cooper!”

“i mean he could just be trying to branch out y’know? we all like different music and stuff, maybe dingus is just trying to expand his horizons and shit.” robin pulled the wooden stick out from between her teeth so she could speak, tongue tinged blue as she wet the corners of her mouth. “maybe that’s all it is, eddie! maybe you’re reading too much into it.”

“no, i’m gonna find out who it is.” eddie is grinning, a slow ear to ear thing that has both nancy and robin let out sighs. “now, are you two with me?”

“ugh, fine.” nancy agreed after eddie sent her a puppy dog look. nancy cast a look to robin, eyes softening slightly, as the trio heard the front door above them unlock. “you in?”

“i’m in.” robin quickly agreed, especially as steve began his quick descent down the basement stairs. eddie quickly snatched up the paper, folding it along the creases before he jammed it deep into his jacket pocket, just as steve entered.

“hey jerks!” steve had an ear to ear grin, a couple boxes of pizza propped against his hip. “look who i find wandering the neighborhood.”

you stepped out from behind steve, a twelve pack of beer in your own hands, and you scoffed playfully as you flipped steve off.

“fuck off, stevie.” you rolled your eyes as you moved toward the trio, smiling widely as you grinned at robin and nancy. “girls i have so much work drama to fill you in on.”

nancy squealed, instantly helping you set the beers down, as robin grabbed you into a tight hug- before the three of you wormed around steve. you all moved as a unit, bounding up the stairs, as steve chuckled.

“glad they get along, aren’t you?” steve smiled to himself, setting the pizza boxes open. eddie watched steve curiously, before he nodded with a grin.

“of course, they all seem to get along great.” eddie shuffled, helping steve break apart the twelve pack, while steve set out a couple of coasters. “car okay?”

“yeah, brakes were just a little fucked.” steve shrugged, before the sound of footsteps down the stairs happened. steve smiled as you bounded down the stairs, trailed after by both robin and nancy. “aw, just talking about you three.”

“oh really?” you grinned wide, dropping a stack of napkins and paper plates on the table. “anything exciting?”

“reminiscing how you joined our little group, actually.” steve grinned and you laughed shyly, rolling your eyes as you dropped onto the loveseat.

“i was high out of my mind, alright?” you scoffed, before smiling as steve dropped down so he could sit next to you. about six months prior to now, while almost greened out, you’d marched up to the four at a party and declared you were all best friends. you’d all been inseparable pretty much since. “can we dig in, i’m starving.”

everyone moved after that, dropping to sit and flip open the pizza boxes. while you slid a couple pieces of supreme onto your plate, steve slyly tapped his knee against yours while everyone else was distracted, especially when eddie jumped up to turn the television on.

“you look real pretty today.” steve whispered, and you smiled towards your plate, accepting a beer when steve offered one out to you.

“thanks, stevie.” you murmured, shy as steve threw his arm behind you to rest along the back of the sofa.

no one noticed, just as no one noticed your shirt.

iron maiden clearly displayed across your chest.

•••

eddie rifled through the box you usually kept in the passenger seat floorboard of your car, an extra pair of your sunglasses drooping down his nose. his van had absolutely refused to start that morning, and since you’d been the only one that was awake when eddie called… you’d offered to drive the brunette to work.

“god at least you have a good music taste.” eddie chuckled, pinching a metallica cassette between his middle and pointer finger.

“yeah?” you giggled, flipping your blinker on as you came to a stop at a red light. “whose music taste are you bashing?”

“stevie’s,” eddie chuckled, dropping the bin of tapes back at his feet.

“aw, it can’t be that bad.” you teased, though you felt your cheeks warm as you took the left turn once the light had turned green. you honestly had no problem with steve’s music taste, truly you didn’t. “some of the stuff he listens to is cute, y’know?”

“cute?!” eddie guffawed and you nodded as you tucked your bottom lip in between your teeth.

“yeah!” you defended, shrugging as you came to a stop at another traffic light. you tapped your fingers against the steering wheel, offering eddie a slow shrug of your shoulders. “some of it is cool, y’know. good make-out music and shit.”

“make-out music?” eddie was grinning now, a wide ear-to-ear thing as he cackled out a laugh. “you’re making out with people to music now?”

you shrugged, especially as eddie continued to grin at you from your peripheral.

“i’m human, eds?” you couldn’t help but giggle, especially as eddie jammed his finger to turn your radio on. “i don’t think that tape is rewound-”

eddie listened, repeatedly pressing the rewind button, before he stilled as you started to drive again. the tape was quiet, barely any static coming through, before it started.

the intro of bon jovi’s, ‘you give love a bad name’ crooned from your car’s speakers- and eddie felt his jaw open as he turned to openly stare at you. you had taken to singing along to the words, tapping your fingers perfectly to the beat- and eddie realized you must’ve listened to this song countless of times to know every fucking lyric.

when you pulled up front of the music store, you flashed eddie a smile, as you pushed your sunglasses down so you could look at eddie with a small smirk quirked on your mouth.

“like i said,” you grinned even wider then, shoulders shrugging as you gestured toward the radio. “some of the shit he listens to is good make-out music.”

“tell me you’re joking.” eddie’s jaw is still hanging open, and you shrug as you instead shift your car into park. “no no, tell me the tape playing isn’t your fucking make-out tape.”

“what? do you think i make-out with people to metallica or some shit?” you’re grinning instead of smirking, and eddie bobs his head into a quick nod. “i don’t listen to this shit all the time, eds, but master of puppets doesn’t exactly give ‘let’s kiss’ vibes.”

eddie is still looking at you, mouth slightly agape, especially as the next song plays. ‘take me home tonight’ by eddie money starts to play, and you’re openly giggling now- as eddie’s cheeks flush.

“do you wanna borrow it?” you question, and you don’t wait for an answer as you click the rewind button twice, and then eject the tape. you hold it out while it’s between your pointer and middle finger, and eddie takes it from you as he slowly blinks. “there you go.”

eddie climbs out of your car slowly, and you grin as you blow him a kiss.

“nance is gonna pick you up once your shift is over, she’s the only one off today, just letting you know.” you’re smiling softer now, before your eyes flash mischievously, and nod your head toward the tape. “take notes munson, i want that back.”

as you pull away, eddie is still standing shocked in the parking lot.

•••

a day later when eddie is sitting in steve’s basement again, he can’t help but feel deja vu trickle up his spine. nancy and robin are sitting across from him, the three glancing at the pieces of paper that eddie had been looking over pretty much his entire shift at the music store. steve was upstairs showering, while you were currently on your way over, having gotten held up at your job instead of being able to get off at your usual time.

“so you think that steve’s best match…” nancy trails off, brow furrowed as she leans forward to look at the paper closer. “beth wildfire? why does that name sound familiar?”

“she’s the girl i told you about, nance.” robin reminded her girlfriend, speaking around a mouthful of doritos. eddie’s brow is furrowed, so robin quickly continues to ramble on. “she was the goalie on my soccer team, this other girl like slid into her right? and ended up breaking one of beth’s legs, and like the whole bone came out of her knee.” robin stuffed another chip into her mouth, missing the small smile that nancy had on her mouth at the rant robin had unintentionally started to go on. “it was insane! i think she ended up having to get screws put in her knee or something. but also, i’ve heard her music and i don’t think she’d listen to any of those songs that were on that mixtape.”

“you don’t think so?” eddie raised his eyebrows, and when robin shook her head immediately, he groaned and crossed her name out.

“also jason carver, really? that’s the best you have for her?” nancy jabbed her finger toward the list of guys eddie had made for you, which prompted eddie to shrug.

“look, she didn’t say she was dating anyone, just making out! isn’t her type like pretty guys or something?” eddie explained, hair moving wildly around his shoulders as he began to talk with his upper body.

“is whose type pretty guys?” steve’s voice rang out, and eddie quickly grabbed the list, crumpling it up as he shoved it into his pocket before he turned around.

steve stood at the bottom of the stairs, hair wet with his hands on his hips as he eyed the group- the trio sheepishly smiling toward steve. steve quirked an eyebrow, as his eyes flitted between everyone’s faces, before he looked back to eddie. a beat or two passed, before you bounded down the stairs, your own hair wet and in pajamas.

“you stop at home and shower?” nancy changed the subject, glancing at you, and you paused a second before you nodded.

“yeah, felt grimy after work.” you shrugged, slyly ghosting the fingers of one hand against steve’s hip as you moved by him. “excuse me stevie.”

you plopped down in the empty chair, before you tucked your knees to your chest and smiled widely at the group. “what are we watching? pick something good up after work, rob?”

robin and nancy were both up then, quickly discussing several movies they’d both apparently rented from family video. eddie excused himself almost as quickly, bounding up the stairs to go smoke before the movie started. while nancy and robin were preoccupied with each other, steve made his way to the side of your chair, and perched himself on the arm before he bent down so he could whisper in your ear.

“thanks for taking a shower with me.” steve’s words were quiet as you let out a soft hum of acknowledgment, and steve tucked a few wet strands of your hair behind your ear. “feel okay?”

“little tired,” you shrugged, blinking sleepily towards steve and he smiled fondly at you as he smoothed his hand over the back of your head. steve hummed softly, and after a quick glance to make sure nancy and robin were occupied (they were), he pressed his lips to your forehead in a soft kiss. “we cooking tonight or ordering in?”

“figured we’d cook, maybe.” steve shrugs, before he ends up sliding so both of you are sitting in the chair together. you uncurl your knees from your chest, letting steve prop your legs over the chair arm, as you end up half balanced on one of his thighs. “i have stuff upstairs to make spaghetti, or i could make burgers instead?”

“hm, spaghetti.” you tuck your head into steve’s neck, and he freezes slightly- before he smooths his hand over your back carefully.

“they’re gonna think somethings up, baby.” steve murmured and you whined softly, shrugging your shoulders. “they are.” you let out an indignant huff, pressing yourself tighter against steve, who made no actual move to peel you off of him. “do you not care anymore?”

“you’re the one who cared if they knew.” you mumbled your words against steve’s chest, and steve stifled a laugh as you snuggled closer and shut your eyes. “if i want to snuggle my man, ‘m gonna snuggle him. don’t care what they think.”

steve said nothing further, instead cradling you to him, with one arm as he used the other one to snag a throw blanket. he covered both him and you, letting you snuggle as close as you wanted. interestingly, robin and nancy didn’t spare either of you more than a glance, and that was just to see if either of you had any input on the movie they watched (you didn’t). even eddie didn’t comment when he made his way back down the stairs, flicking off the overhead lights before he launched himself onto the couch.

while the movie played, the shining, specifically, steve kept his arms wrapped tight around you. none of your friends said a word, even as the group (minus you, seeing as you’d drifted off before the movie had even been chosen), talked through the film.

when you finally woke up as the end credits started, you yawned, and uncurled yourself from steve. steve watched appraisingly as you stretched, tank top riding up on your hips as you stretched your arms high above your head. you let out another yawn, before you turned and smiled at steve.

“i’m gonna go start food, wanna help me, baby?” your voice was soft and it was clear you were still half-asleep, and steve nodded following after you slowly.

interestingly he noted, no one batted an eye at your use of the pet name. when steve was at the top of the stairs, he heard the crinkle and low voice of eddie, rattling off a couple names to robin and nancy. the two girls seemed to put their input in, and steve was still chuckling when he joined you in the kitchen.

“what’s funny?” you murmured, soft spoken as steve wrapped his arms around you from behind, pinning you to his chest as he ducked his head down. steve pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, watching as you turned a burner on. “hm?”

“pretty sure eds and the girls are trying to figure out if we’re dating someone.” steve chuckled, nosing at your hair as he watched you dump a thing of hamburger meat into the pan.

you giggled at that, since the two of you had already filled each other in on the weird moments about music with eddie when you’d been driving with him. neither of you were worried about him though, not really anyway.

“funny.” you murmured, and you didn’t protest as steve plucked the spatula out of your hand, though he still kept your back pressed to his own chest. “think they’ll end up confronting us?”

steve chuckled, shaking his head as he thought about the trio downstairs in the basement, before he spoke.

“oh without a doubt, baby.”

•••

a week later, eddie sat in the back of his van with both nancy and robin, the van facing toward the drive-in’s screen. some double horror feature was playing, and while both you and steve had bailed, the trio had still wanted to attend. steve apparently had a migraine and you the stomach flu, so the trio had just sent you well wishes and still went.

eddie took a slow drag of his cigarette, glancing around as he eyed the cars that surrounded him. everyone was waiting on the second movie to start, the first having been over for a couple of minutes already. nancy whined when robin smacked her arm, and eddie jumped as robin smacked his too. when eddie turned, robin was grinning- gesturing a hand out into the crowd.

“isn’t that steve’s car?” robin was grinning even wider now, and eddie cackled as he stubbed out his cigarette. “oh my god it so is isn’t it?”

“and the windows are fogged up.” nancy giggled, and eddie grinned at his two friends, before he gestured toward the car with his chin.

“what do you say about going and saying hi?” eddie was grinning even wider when the two girls jumped up, and eddie followed suit after closing the back of the van.

steve’s noticeable car was several rows ahead of them, the last in the row. the windows were fogged, and eddie couldn’t help but stifle a laugh as he neared the driver’s side window. eddie could hear music playing from inside, madonna’s ‘crazy for you’ crooning from the car’s speakers. eddie grinned wide at nancy and robin, before he rapped his knuckles against the window.

a beat passed, then two, and eddie knocked again. he could hear mumbling inside the car, clearly steve’s voice, though he couldn’t make out the second. when another beat passed and the music was turned off, eddie knocked for the third time. eddie smiled again at robin and nancy who crowded closer as the driver’s window started to roll down before…

holy fucking shit.

you were perched in steve’s lap, lips red, smiling shyly up at the trio. steve was under you, hair mused as he grinned cheekily at eddie, before his eyes flickered to robin, and then to nancy’s. you were in a tiny sundress, something drastically different than what you usually wore, and eddie swallowed harshly when steve slid the strap of it back up your shoulder fondly.

“hey guys.” you were grinning, all teeth and crinkled eyes, before you extended your hand with a small giggle. “nice to meet you, ‘m stevie’s girl.”

no one made a move to shake your hand, and when you brought it back in, steve extended his own. he was flushed pink, lips puffy from being kissed, and he licked at the corners before his grin widened.

“nice to meet you all, i’m hers.”

•••

eddie had decided on that night that he was a terrible fucking detective, and had somehow missed what’d been clear as day right in front of everyone’s eyes. you and steve later explained you hadn’t hidden your guys’ relationship for any malicious reason, it was just new and you both weren’t exactly sure where it would actually lead.

years later, at your wedding with steve, neither of you could explain to anyone other than your three closest friends why your favorite present was what it was. it wasn’t large or expensive by any means, but the second both you and steve had seen it, you both had erupted into a fit of giggles.

inside of a shadow box were the following items;

one the right, the list from the tape in steve’s car.

on the left, the list from the tape in yours.

at the bottom, in between those, two unlabeled cassette tapes side by side.

just above the two tapes was what had really sent you and steve into a fit of hysterics.

it was two separate lists of names of students that had gone to or once attended hawkin’s high.

some x’d-out, some circled, some underlined.

the most interesting thing, however?

neither your name or steve’s were anywhere on it.

[the-hinky-panda]

The Medic Series: Part III

Title: The Medic Series

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Johnny Coco Cruz x OFC (Morgan "Stitches" Fox)

Summary: Morgan Fox is a nurse who is looking for a fresh start. She leaves La Jolla the night before her wedding for a fresh start in Santo Padre.

Author's Note: This series takes place in the same universe as @bullet-prooflove's Community Series.

Taglist: @darqchilddaydreamz @kmc1989

Coco is in love. 

At least that’s what he thinks it is once he realizes the blonde woman in bloody scrubs isn’t an angel. But she looks beautiful enough to be one. She and Letty help him back into the clinic and his fuzzy mind is able to put together that it was the John who got the jump on him with…something. The nurse, he’s struggling with remembering her name, cleans most of the blood away and starts assessing the cut. He has to make a concerted effort to not lean into her touch, bury his face against her lightly perfumed neck. She is just so…he can’t settle on a word.

“Felt like I got hit with a fuckin’ 2x4.” 

She hums. “Based on the skin split, I would say it was a baseball bat.” 

“What do you think bats are made out of?” 

Her ice blue eyes drop down to his face in surprise. But when his mouth twists into a grin, so does hers, crinkles appearing in the corner of those beautiful eyes. 

Fuck. He’s a complete goner. And he still can’t remember her name. 

“Alright,” she says, pulling a fresh pair of gloves on, “looks like everyone is getting stitches this evening.” 

“Stitches!” 

She nods. “Yup, that’s a nasty gash on your head. You and your daughter are going to have matching wounds for a little bit.” 

“No,” he starts to shake his head but then realizes that will mess her up. “That’s your name, right? Stitches?” 

“My nickname, yes,” she laughs quietly. “Apparently they really like the way I do them. I’m guessing there was another nurse who didn’t do them so well.” 

“The one you replaced was shit.” Coco closes eyes. He’s so close to her he can smell her own scent underneath the perfume, see the smoothness of her skin. His head already hurts too much to have perfection a couple inches from his lips. “The club doesn’t even come here to get patched up.” 

“Where do they go?” 

He feels the first pinch of the needle and it helps ground him. “No where.” 

“They all look like fucking Frankensteins,” Letty pipes up. 

“We do not,” Coco counters. But that did remind him. “Speaking of the club, they’re on their way.” 

Letty shifts on her feet. “Did you call the cops?” 

Coco opens one of his eyes to see who Letty addressed the question to and sees her eyes on Stitches’ face. 

Stitches worries her bottom lip. “I didn’t call them.” 

Coco releases a sigh of relief. Less red tape. “Good. We’ll take care of it.” 

“We’re going to have to take care of Celia too. I saw her drive off when we came out and found you behind the dumpster.” 

Coco grits his teeth as he feels the stitches tighten. “Probably gave the fucker the fucking baseball bat.” 

“She sounds like a lovely woman.” Stitches pulls her gloves off and tosses everything into the trash. “Will the club take care of her too?” 

“No,” Coco says. “I’ll take care of her.” 

Letty clears her throat as Stitches gathers fresh stitching supplies to finish her original job. There are looks passed between the two of them and Coco knows there’s some conversation that was had and he either can’t remember or wasn’t privy to in the first place. 

“What, mija?” 

Letty winces as her stitches start. “Morgan was telling me about a friend of hers. They might be able to help out too.” 

“Who the fuck is Morgan?” 

Both women give him a slightly alarmed look and Letty points to the nurse. “You didn’t think her actual name was ‘Stitches?’” 

Stitches winks at him. “Go easy on him, Letty. He’s got a head injury.” 

“We’ve all got fucking head injuries,” Letty mutters. 

Coco watches from the chair as Stitches tends to Letty and tries to come up with a plan that would convince an angel to give a poor devil a shot. 

***

“Shit!” 

Morgan is leaning on the rust stained porcelain sink, staring into a cracked mirror as she tries to lay the butterfly stitches properly along her temple. But by the time she blots the still oozing blood from the cut and properly positions the stitches, the blood has risen up enough that it prevents them from sticking. She’s gone through three of them now. 

“Need some help, Munequa?” 

She turns to see Coco standing in the open door to the bathroom. He must have finished filling in the club on the details of his situation. “Sure. As long as I don’t end up looking like Frankenstein.” 

He gives her a small smile. “No promises.” 

Morgan holds her breath as he blots the blood away with a much more gentle hand than she anticipates. She can see the small tattoo on the corner of his earth brown eyes, and one along his hairline that’s covered by his long hair. He smells of tobacco and cedarwood, and she fights the urge to tell him to stop smoking. The world needs more people like him, protectors, guardians. A father willing to fight for his daughter with such tenacity, it’s not uncommon but after all she’s seen in this world, it’s not common enough. 

“There,” he smoothes the butterfly stitches across her forehead with his thumbs, but his hands linger on the sides of her face. She can feel the calluses on his palms as they slide over her cheeks. 

“Thanks.” It’s the stupidest thing to say but it’s the only thing that came to mind given his close proximity. Instead of stepping away, he leans in closer.Her fingers curl into the soft flannel of his shirt when she realizes he’s going to kiss her and she hopes to God she remembers how to properly do this. But as soon as his lips brush against hers, someone shouts from the hallway. 

“Coco!” 

Both of you step back from each other, him knocking into the door and her banging her hip against the sink. They’re both still catching their breath when one of the MC members comes around the corner. He’s tall with slicked back hair and all it takes is one look between the two of them before he shakes his head with a chuckle. 

“Coco, come on, dawg. Creep’s got the dude in the back of the van.” He laughs again. “Let’s deal with this motherfucker first then you can come back and play doctor.” 

“Shut the fuck up, man.” Coco groans. “Shit, Letty. I gotta get her home.” 

Morgan perks up at that. “Oh, let me get you a business card. I was telling Letty that I have a friend back in La Jolla who handles sex trafficking and prostitution cases pro bono. He’s making up for all the time he spent as an ambulance chaser I suppose. But with what Letty was telling me, he could put together a pretty rock solid case against your mother for selling Letty to this rat bastard.” She hands him the card. “I mean, if you wanted to go the legal route.” 

Coco takes the card from her and tucks it in his shirt pocket. “Thanks, Stitch. For everything.” 

“Sure.” Morgan walks with them out to the reception area where there’s five other men wearing Mayan kuttes. Coco motions to the one of them, slightly taller than her but built solidly. 

“This is Bishop,” Coco introduces. “He’s our President.” 

Morgan shakes his offered hand. “Morgan Fox.” 

“Thanks for the help, Morgan. Appreciate it.” 

“Any time.” She holds his eyes for a moment. “I mean that.” 

“Careful what you promise,” he responds but with a good natured smile. “Alright, let's take care of this problem before the meds wear off.” 

Letty steps up next to Morgan. “I can help Morgan clean up the office and then she can drop me by the salvage yard. If that’s okay?” 

Morgan notices the looks between the men and realizes this is quite a big ask. She starts to suggest just taking Letty to her home when Coco speaks up. 

“That would work, Bish. I gotta talk to her about some help with Celia. She says she’s got a friend who handles stuff like this, on the up and up.” 

“Jail time?” Bishop asks. 

Morgan nods. “I’ve seen pimps go away for fifteen years on shaky evidence. This guy is good.” 

Bishop nods. “That’s fine then. We’ll let Chucky know you’re coming.” 

Morgan thanks them for the allowance to come onto their turf as she opens the front door for them. As they’re walking out to their bikes, she notices the driver of a dented up black van. He’s part of the club as members are going up to him and interacting with jokes and fist bumps. Coco climbs into the passenger seat of the van with him. 

“Who’s the van driver?” 

Letty looks out at the parking and squints. “Looks like Creeper. Why? You know him or something?” 

Morgan shakes her head as she closes and locks the door to the clinic. “Yeah, or something.” 

[kmgkmg]

YES NO MAYBE - JEON WONWOO

word count: 1.7k…

pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader

synopsis: wonwoo sits down for an interview after his pictorial to answer some questions, what he wasn't expecting was you to be the one interviewing him.

genre/s: angst, idol!wonwoo, ex!wonwoo, magazine editor!reader

warnings: none!

rating: pg

a/n: submission for k-label's firsts for everything event! the title and fic are inspired by bae suzy's solo debut with yes no maybe! while the title track is def the biggest inspiration, i relied on all of the mini album since it's one of my absolute favorites of kpop. also leaned into iu's discography a lot and ending scene was another inspiration. thank you @gyusangels and @hwasangelbaby for being the beta readers!

Wonwoo’s steps can be heard against the floor as he enters the studio. People are still shuffling about busily, setting up before the shoot officially starts. Next to the clothing racks, various conceptual pictures are taped all along the wall. He scans the pictures, trying his best to get a grasp of what vibe he had to emulate for the day. 

The continuous clicking sounds of the camera’s shutter rings in Wonwoo’s ears while the flashes of light hurt his eyes. On top of that, the studio booms with loud music to set the mood for the shoot. With each flash, Wonwoo subtly readjusts himself to a new pose. Five outfit changes along with five different hairstyles and makeup looks. Exhausted is an understatement. The shoot proceeds for nearly three hours before finally getting the last shot approved by the magazine’s staff. 

“You were absolutely terrific!” The enthusiastic photographer praises Wonwoo and Wonwoo immediately turns bashful. He’s weak to compliments, especially when the cameras are turned off.  

His manager approaches him with a water bottle and a handheld fan. 

“Are we done for the day then?” Wonwoo asks after sipping and starts to take the uncomfortable jacket off.

His manager avoids his eyes, an indication to Wonwoo that the day was not over. “You still have the Q&A video to film. Their Chief Editor is interviewing you.”

He pats his manager’s shoulder, reassuring him to not worry. “Q&A videos are a breeze! What do you want to grab for lunch afterwards?”

“Today’s weather is perfect for…sushi?” His manager suggests. 

Wonwoo is energized by the thought of eating sushi later on. “Now that you have motivated me, this interview will be done in no time!”

“Chief Editor L/N!” One of your employees greets you, making the others aware of your presence. You are distracted by the conversation on your phone and briefly greet the employees before finishing the phone call. 

Wonwoo is already waiting at the table that the staff set up, but his eyes dart up as he looks for you. He knew you worked at Vogue, but Vogue is a huge company. He never expected that he’d run into you like this, nearly a year after you dumped him. 

You sit behind the camera wordlessly, pulling your laptop out of your work bag. Straightening your posture on the chair, you double check that the camera is recording. “Seventeen’s Wonwoo, thank you for joining us today.” 

He’s thrown off by your extremely professional behavior. Nobody knew about your past relationship besides Seventeen, but you were treating him like a complete stranger. His initial shock dies down, but it's clear on his face that he’s experiencing a rollercoaster of emotions from your presence.  

His words spill out thoughtlessly, “So, you’ve been promoted to Chief Editor?”

You exchange glances with the staff around you, all looking back at you with quizzical expressions. Double-checking the flashing red dot on the camera, you reply curtly. “Yes, I’ve been Chief Editor for about seven months. Usually the managing editor conducts the interviews, but he had a family emergency today. We’re deeply sorry that we weren’t able to inform you sooner.”  

“No need to apologize!” Wonwoo replies, becoming aware of his surroundings once again. Flashing a wide smile to the camera, he turns on his idol persona. Staff around the studio begin gushing about his kind behavior as you look for which fan questions to read. 

“Do you have any plans on releasing any more videos or photos for Carats?”

“I plan to hold a traveling exhibition of my photography early next year! I can’t give too much away right now, but Carats will definitely love it.” 

A smile crept onto your face, glad that the ideas he bounced off of you were coming to fruition. “Do the members still ask you to take their pictures a lot?”

He blinks his eyes rapidly, surprised at your memory. “Yes, they do! At this point, DK, The8, and I are practically the assigned Instagram photographers in the group.”

You nod, and prepare yourself to read the next comment. “Ballad lover, Jeon Wonwoo! I love your music taste so much! What song have you been hooked on lately?”

“I’ve mentioned IU a lot in the past since her music means a lot to me. Luckily, Carats really enjoyed my cover of her song Knees. These days, I’ve been listening to The Visitor by her. The melody is very catchy and the instrumental is stripped back which adds a special layer of sentimentality to the track. I especially love the lyrics for the hook. ‘Why do I still love you? Why do I sing about you? Why do I still wait for you?  Babe I love you.’” He responds, purposefully looking away from the camera and instead having his eyes fixate on you. 

His longing gaze goes unnoticed by you as you type a note to the video editor to add IU’s in song during post production. “Wonwoo, I’m addicted to books like you! Which books are the most newly purchased in your library?”

“Book Park Lounge had a sale a week ago! I bought about eight new books? Greek Lessons by the author Han Kang has been insanely interesting so far. Although the novel came out in April, it was sold out in all of the bookstores around me immediately. Please, check it out if you enjoy books about the beauty of humanity. My rambling isn’t doing the book justice, just know that once you pick the book up, you won’t be able to put it down.”

You memorize the book’s title, secretly missing the reading lists he would make you. “Any recent activities you did with the members that you can share?”

Wonwoo takes a second to think, lightly tapping his fingers on the table’s surface. “Me and Minghao went to a tea tasting and blending workshop. I’ve recently been more interested in tea, so he suggested that I tag along with him. It was a really rewarding time, I got exposure to a lot of new flavors!”

“Since you made your own tea blend, do you have any tips for people that follow your steps and try making their own blends?”

“Great question!” He compliments, turning silent as he thinks of the best universally liked ingredient. “Dried rose petals are my recommendation. They are easy to add to any tea blend in my opinion, plus, the quantity that you add can customize how much you want the flavor to stand out. Minghao would probably recommend others’ first experience with tea to be a tea ceremony instead. I’ve done both and the ceremonies tend to focus on patience and maintaining steady hands.”

Hesitating to move on to the next question, you review your coworker’s email with the prewritten questions. “Do we have to ask every question here?” 

Wonwoo tilts his head in confusion, “Why not?”

“Very well. Wonwoo, have you ever regretted letting go of something or someone?” 

“Yes.” His immediate reply causes his manager to approach you and ask for it to be edited out. Wonwoo sees the interaction and tries his best to fix his mistake. “Actually, no… Well, maybe? At the time, I found myself asking a lot, what does my heart actually want? It’s strange, isn’t it? I mean how humans don’t understand their hearts at times. But by the time I realized what I wanted, it was far too late. So yes, I’m full of regret.”  

You look back at his manager, whose mouth is slightly agape over Wonwoo’s candid answer. Picking up on the manager’s flustered state, you skip to the last question. “What are your plans for the rest of the year?”

He tries his best to sound energetic again, “Well, Seventeen always tries to be as active as we can! Although a little less than half of the year is left, we will meet you very soon with new music and performances!” 

“Can you do the outro?”

“See you all next time! Subscribe, like, and comment to Vogue’s YouTube channel!” Wonwoo waves goodbye with both hands and you stand up to turn off the camera. 

He walks over to you as he stretches his arms. “Can we think about us again?”

You continue fidgeting with the camera and say in a low voice, “Wonwoo. Stop saying, let’s think about it again. You know better than anyone that we probably wouldn't last a day.”

“But, Y/N, life without you isn’t the same…” His eyes turn desperate. More eyes are on the two of you, unaware that you were so deeply acquainted with one another.  

“Follow me.” You excuse yourself from the studio with Wonwoo listening to your words.

He has a hopeful glint to his eyes now, biting down on his lip to contain his excitement. He’s at a complete loss of how to predict what you’re going to say. 

You’re shaking from the anger of his unprofessionalism. Wonwoo realizes your emotions and his face turns solemn. 

“What is with you today, Wonwoo? It’s obvious we’ll hurt each other again, so stop saying you can’t live without me. Please, just meet someone who will love you more than I did.” 

He looks down at his feet and mumbles, “You act like that is an easy task, Y/N.” 

“Wonwoo, I’m with someone else now. You’re the one that wanted us to date quietly and we broke up just as quietly. Now, let go of me quietly.” You request, not once faltering in front of him. 

Without giving him time to respond, you walk back towards the studio’s doors and hold one open for him. His feet move without him thinking, trudging back into the studio. 

His manager is talking to the photographer about which photos should be excluded from the final cut. Once he notices Wonwoo's return, he finishes the conversation effortlessly. 

“Ready for some sushi?”

Wonwoo takes one last look in your direction and sees you engrossed in your work as employees crowd you. Yes, he misses you more than anything. But no, he knows that you don’t feel the same. So maybe, it’s time for him to follow your wishes and let go of you. 

He clears his throat. “Yeah, let’s go.”

[partiallyderived]

-ˋˏ pens, pop, and potential love interests ˎˊ (kjh)

Summary: You lend the cute guy in class a pen.

Pairing: Kum Junhyeon x GN!Reader

Word Count: 683 words

Warning(s): None.

A/N: My dudes, this is crack. I haven't published anything since 2021 and my writing skills need honing, but enjoy. Also, like many college students, I am sleep deprived. The Pop in the title refers to soda. I'm going to edit this when I'm less sleep deprived. There will be an extended cut.

It begins with Pepsi.

Or, rather, it begins with a pen — a good, well-used Maxwriter in blue, which everyone knows is the best type of pen for taking notes; cheap but not cheap.

When you first meet him, his hair is dyed brown. In the light, it doesn’t look like coffee or strong tea or oak or chestnut; it looks like the toffees of your childhood, the ones your grandparents pressed into your hands with each visit.

His name is Kum Junhyeon — nineteen years old, three months older than you and leagues apart in confidence and popularity; the apple of the seniors’ eyes — and he sits behind you in your nine a.m. Biomolecules lecture. He laughs like a thundercloud and makes jokes that make even the strictest of professors smile, and maybe, just maybe, you are a little infatuated with him.

Because it can’t be anything else when he taps you on the shoulder and you freeze.

Caught like a deer in headlights when all the poor boy wants is a pen because his ran out of ink.

What you remember of the exchange is that you thrust your pencil pouch at him — all six pens, four pencils and two highlighters worth of it. You fumble a little in the middle — the angle is awkward, and the next table is placed just a bit higher than the one in front of it — and he has to grab onto the pouch so it doesn’t spill onto the floor, which means he has to grab onto your hands, which means your hands jolt like a kick-started engine, which means —

“Oh my god I like him?!”

Esha from Psychology, first year like yourself, has no sympathy. She’s taken to your life as if it were a drama made specially for her, and even now, she lounges on her bed like a queen, popping jelly beans into her mouth while you have a fun little breakdown on your side of the room.

“But like,” she says once the jelly beans have run out, “he’s cute, right?”

“The cutest. I hate it. My heart goes all wonky when I’m around him, and he didn’t even give me my pen back.”

//

He’s there early in your next class, dressed in a hoodie and jeans pulled so low that you have to tell yourself to avert your eyes. He looks sheepish.

You slide into the seat beside him instead of the one in front of him. A test of courage, but also because you want your pen back.

He does not have the pen. He lost the pen. He is not sheepish because of the pants; he’s sheepish because he has to tell you he lost your pen.

But Junhyeon is quick to clarify, “But it’s not that I lost it, (Name). More like, I don’t know, someone stole it from me. I swear!”

The story goes that he went to submit his work to the teacher and left the pen in the Biochemistry lab. When he came back five minutes later, the pen was gone.

“It was a good pen! The best pen! I’ve never held a better pen in my life!” Junhyeon tells you, and you believe him, because Maxwriters are good pens. And it’s fine! You can always buy another one, but you really liked that pen.

Rest in Peace, Maxwriter. Sacrificed for some guy. You were a real one.

///

Honestly, you think it’s a forgotten thing. The Professor came in before you could respond, but you had flashed him a thumbs up and gone about your business, and he hadn’t really said anything else during class, so that was that.

And then, in the canteen, when you and Esha have finally managed to get a simultaneous free period, one of the guys from Physics sets a bottle of Pepsi in front of you. Taped to the condensation, barely holding on for dear life like your sanity, is a sticky note that says I’m sorry for losing your pen. :( We should totally go out to buy another pack together - Junhyeon.

Boys are so stupid. He didn’t even write his number down.

Taglist: @daintydongyoung @zerobaseonefics @urielphix @incorrectzbone @i520u

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Killshot (Series Masterlist)

“… if I get to know her, then I might save her.” ~ c.

Series Description: The occupation as a member of SAS came with many restrictions and rules one had to follow to a dot. It could get even more intense for a soldier carrying a lot of trauma and not enough self-love, if any at all. Thank God, this lonely soldier meets a lonely florist one day, and as they say - animals have the best judge of character.

Pairing: Simon Riley x fem!reader

A/N: So, I was never into CoD. I was born and raised a gamer, but CoD had never seen the light of day in our household - until my uncle started gushing over the MW remake last year (at least I gathered it's a remake). I didn't pay much attention to the gushing and one day, randomly, Simon Riley started living in my head rent-free and hadn't left since. It's interesting to imagine what type of person Simon would be in day-to-day life and I like that the fandom is so diverse, doesn't matter which member of 141. Hope you'll have fun reading and hope you'll find my version of Simon at least a bit likeable.

Music inspo: Meet Me At Our Spot by the Anxiety, Killshot by Magdalena Bay heavily inspired by Mura Masa's self-titled album, namely by tracks Lovesick and What If I Go?

Trigger warnings: Dealing with anxiety, low self-esteem, smoking, alcohol usage, domestic violence (gets graphic in some parts), usage of violence, blood, Simon being an anxious sunshine, both of them being a broken mess, occasional depictions of readers wardrobe (girly wears glasses sometimes), MacTavish paired with an OC created for this fic while also being a menace, Price guest appearance (stealing everyone’s thunder), Gaz hangs out with our girly.

☀️ indicates fluff; 🌊 indicates smut; 🌪️indicates angst, potentially trigerring content

Ghost's tapes: P L A Y L I S T

Read here: 

1. The Genius Florist ☀️ (Word count: around 6.5K) 2. The Cactus ☀️🌪️(Word count: around 6.1K) 3. Her Song☀️🌪️ (Word count: around 6.5K) 4. Their Song ☀️🌪️ (Word count: 9.5K) 5. His Past (TBA, in progress) 6. Their Past (TBA, in progress) 7. (TBA, in progress) 8. (TBA, in progress)

[riddle-me-ri]

A/N: shhh no I don't have a problem, I dunno what you're talking about..this isn't my third Miguel fic in a row hnng…but also thanks so much love on the first two! Seriously, I'm blown away! Anywho, if there's anything I'm a sucker for writing about its…like character deep dives. I like to get in their heads and kinda make my own interpretations or take to the best of my ability while staying true to what we know of the character. And while it's kind of a "x reader" it's not until the very very end. Also if you guys have any requests or ideas feel free to send them my way! It may take time but I'd love to hear any ideas! Here's a link for my request info!

Trigger Warning: none, some depressive/angsty thoughts cause it's Miguel and his backstory so...rip and also unsure if I used resentment right or not I like one word titles rip

Word Count: 1k

Miguel O'Hara x Reader - A Long Way To Happy

Miguel's eyes strained at the screen once more. 

It probably wasn't healthy watching back these tapes from a universe that once was. Over and over, and over again. 

He sees himself. A big proud grin on his face. A darling little girl propped on his shoulders, smiling, laughing, living…

Miguel doesn't even recognize that man anymore.

It is him, sure. 

Exactly where he shouldn't have been. Filling in the shoes of an alternate him that was supposed to not be there. 

Miguel O'Hara wasn't supposed to be there for his daughter's games and practices. He wasn't supposed to wake her up and cook breakfast or tuck her into bed and wish her sweet dreams. 

But he was…and now Gabriella and that entire universe was destroyed. 

All because he was careless, selfish, foolish. He let his own desires get in the way of protecting and maintaining the multiverse. 

Not again. He knows the risks now, the sacrifices that are endured whenever someone tries to go against the silk of a predetermined web. 

Miguel won't let himself get distracted, get pulled away. He doesn't care what the others think, he doesn't care if he's not as warm and bubbly as the other Spiders…he was never entirely like them anyway. 

Maybe before, but that man was long gone, only to be seen on film. 

He won't slip up again. Now that there's holes and anomalies popping to and from universes…there's no time for indulgences or distractions. 

After he swallowed the growing lump in his throat on seeing a beaming Gabriella hugging him. He turned off the video and began a routine scan for anomalies. 

Then he felt a sudden weight along his back along with some soft coos. 

When he turned his neck he was greeted by a sweet baby face with a mop full of red curly hair. The baby smiled widely at him before continuing her trail. 

Miguel sighed. 

This…this was not helping…

It just…it didn't feel fair. It wasn't fair. 

Miguel shook his head. 

It's not Peter's fault he didn't have Gabriella and Peter could be a dad to Mayday. 

Then he thought of Jessica with her mystery baby on the way…

Miguel wasn't sure how he'd feel if she had a girl. 

This has to be his punishment. 

He obliterated an alternate universe by filling in for that universe's Miguel O'Hara because he wanted a family…because he wanted what that Miguel had. 

He deserves this. To be surrounded by happy families and precious babies. 

At least the multiverse was stable and safe enough to where they felt comfortable starting families.  

Miguel doesn't want to feel this resentment. He knows it's childish, so he buries it deep along with his traumatic memories of his daughter glitching out of existence. 

He distracts himself by staying focused. Pushing, pulling, and commanding the Spider Society. Maintain order in the multiverse, that's what he should have been doing to begin with. 

Perhaps then he can be redeemed…for his own sake. 

Until then, he had no reason to be playful and carefree like the others. He had no reason to pursue his wants, not after what happened the last time he did so. 

Then there was you. 

Bright-eyed and bushy tailed as all the other Spiders (well most of them). You were personable, kind, and sweet. Peter said you also had a sense of humor, leaving Miguel to still be the only Spider without one. 

Miguel didn't think much of you at first. Just another part timer perhaps. May catch a glimpse of you every once in a while. 

That is until you almost went out of your way to see him or do things for him. You always checked on him once if not twice a week. (He almost wishes you'd visit more so than Peter B.) And every now and then he'd notice a tray of food for him.  

He did take notice of your prowess on missions. He always appreciated a competent agent. This led him to have you on his backup team with Jessica. 

Needless to say, he did feel…content with you. Which was something he hadn't felt in a long time.

"Oh, geez, there you are, Mayday! Your daddy's looking everywhere for you." Your voice echoed throughout Miguel's headquarters as you swung up on your silk to retrieve the baby. 

"God, sorry Miguel, I turned my back for a minute and she's gone. Should've figured she wanted to see her favorite uncle." You chuckled as you pried the baby off Miguel's shoulders. 

"I doubt that." He sighed. 

"What?" 

"Nothing." 

You nodded. 

You noticed a familiar tab open on the hologram beside the tab he had open with a map of the multiverse. You recognized the name and date. 

You sighed as you began turning around ready to hand Mayday back to her dad who was sparring in the training room. 

Until you looked over your shoulder at Miguel slumped over his desk. His eyes heavy with exhaustion and his lips down in a depressed frown. 

"You know, you don't have to take this burden on your own. You have us…and the whole society…and everyone's happy…content for the most part. Outside of canon stuff anyway but…" You took a deep breath, trying to control your rambling to a minimum. 

"Look, I just…want you to know…you deserve happiness too." You concluded. 

As if to agree, Mayday squealed and kicked her feet in your arms.

Miguel didn't respond. He straightened his posture so he wasn't leaning and he glanced at you over his shoulder. He solemnly nodded and nothing else. 

Finally deciding there was nothing more to say, you began shooting your webs and swinging out of his headquarters. The quiet room is filled with echoes of Mayday's laughs and chortles. 

When Mayday's noises faded. Miguel brought the video back up. 

He paused when the video reached the end. 

A close-up of him. A ghost of him.

Was it possible? Could he be happy again? Should he be? Did he really deserve to be?

Where resentment slightly gnawed in his gut. The idea of becoming content made it fade away. Actually, indulging in other relationships while also protecting the multiverse. Not trying to control something that even he and Lyla have minimal understanding of and controlling a plethora of other individuals. 

Miguel can't change what's happened, that is for certain. He can control what he does today and the next though. 

It's going to be a long way to happiness. Yet, he couldn't help but think with someone like you around…it may make the journey a little easier.

[rip-quizilla]

Your Leather, My Lace ~ Part 5: Enter Sandman

Pairing: Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Rockstar!fem!Reader

Summary: It's the release of Metallica's new album, and you weren't lucky enough to snag a copy. Fortunately, Eddie managed to buy one and he's very eager to get back in your good graces.

Word Count: 6.9k

Tags for Entire Fic (from AO3): Enemies to Lovers, Rival Bands, Tension While Singing, Leather, 80's Rock References, Song Lyrics, Slow Burn, Sexual Tension, Thinly Veiled Hex Girls Inspiration, Eddie Munson Lives, 1991, Porn with Feelings, Shameless Smut, Mutual Masturbation, Hate to Love, Oral Sex, Consensual Sex, Smut, Eddie Munson Has No Sense of Personal Space, Cunnilingus, Nipple Licking, Catholic Guilt, brat!reader, Dom/sub Undertones, light degradation, Car Sex, The Lord of the Rings References

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

If asked whether or not 7 AM is a stupidly early time to be starting your day, most average adults would probably answer “no”. For a musician, however, 7 AM is basically the buttcrack of dawn. Hence, the second cup of coffee of the morning that you held in your hand as you waited in line for Mad World Music Store to open.

Today was the release of Metallica’s new album, and you were determined to get a copy. You didn’t want a single day that a whole album’s worth of new songs by your favorite band were out to pass without at least starting to memorize every line, every chord progression, every complicated riff- you ached to have every new song rolling around in your brain. So here you were- thirty-seventh in a line of metalheads that didn’t mind being temporary early birds if it meant getting their hands on a copy of Metallica’s self-titled album. The line was so long that it wound around the outside of the tiny music store; you used your free hand to wrap yourself further into the large thrifted fleece jacket you wore over the thickest hoodie you’d brought with you. The morning chill wasn’t too bad, but with so little sunlight on this cloudy day there wasn’t much to balance out the wind that stung the bare skin exposed between the ends of your pants and your lace up Docs. 

You sipped your coffee and busied your mind by letting it wander back to what had become the center of your every waking moment lately- your band, your setlist, and literally every possible thing that might keep you from winning Indie Battle. 

When the line finally began moving in your favor, you felt your heart rate pick up as you shuffled forward a few inches. Before you knew it, you were through the door, inching forward minute by minute until you reached the checkout counter. You could practically feel the plastic-wrapped cassette tape in your hands, until-

“Sorry, we’re all out. That was the last one.”

Your eyes turned to ice when you looked up at the stout, curly-haired cashier. “What?” You grit out, your voice stony and barely above a whisper. You set your coffee down on the counter, splaying both hands on the surface “I’ve been out there waiting for almost an hour.”

The man shrugged apologetically, and you empathized with every groan you heard from the customers in line behind you. “We’ll have more coming in at the end of the week, but that’s all I’ve got for now.” He made a sort of sorrowful grimace as you sighed, shoved your hands in your pockets and accepted defeat. You turned around to walk aimlessly down an aisle of used vinyls, listening to the grumbling of customers as they left empty-handed. Amidst the shuffling of dejected feet, however, you noted that one set of white sneakers moved hurriedly in the opposite direction toward the cashier. 

“Hey man! You got it?” 

Damn that voice, you’d started hoping you’d never hear it in the same room as you again.

You checked over your shoulder to check if that voice belonged to whom you thought it did, and sure enough, there he was.

Eddie Munson, in all his glory, strode down the center walkway of the music store toward the cashier you’d just finished speaking to.

Slowly, you backed further into the aisle without completely losing sight of the two objects of your attention. You grabbed a random record and pretended to gaze at the faded album cover while you listened in on their conversation. 

“Yeah, dude, I put one aside for you the minute they came in.” your eyes bugged, glancing quickly to see whatever the cashier was referring to. Sure enough, held in his hand was a shiny, brand new tape of the Metallica album. “There was a line out the door for these, you owe me big time.” 

Your eyebrows pinched as you shook your head softly and stifled a scoff. This guy just couldn’t seem to stop pissing you off. What were the odds that he knew the guy working at the music store well enough to get him to save a copy of the most anticipated release of the year? You inwardly cursed your shitty, shitty luck and craned your neck to get a better look between shelves at the two behind the counter. 

“That’s the understatement of the century, Grant,” Eddie said congenially. “Anything you want or need, just say the word. You can even hop back on the stage with us, you know that’s a standing invitation for life, man.”

The cashier- Grant, apparently- smiled fondly at Eddie, clapping him on the back with one hand and scratching an itch in his beard with the other. “Ah, thanks man… haven’t been on a stage in years, you know that. I’d probably sound like dogshit.” he laughed good-naturedly, picking up an empty box that must have held all of the new tapes and heading toward the back of the store.

“Even if you did, I wouldn’t give a fuck,” Eddie followed Grant, fiddling with the plastic on the tape as if he were itching to open it up and stick it into the nearest stereo. You couldn’t blame him; if that tape were in your hands, you’d be anxious to listen to it too. “Corroded Coffin isn’t the same without you, man.” 

So that’s how they know each other. 

This guy must have been a band member at some point. You wondered why it was that Eddie and his band hadn’t competed in the past when they had a friend in the music industry working at a music store that was located so close to all of the venues where Indie Battle took place. No doubt they’d heard about it from this Grant guy before… what took them so long? 

“Fancy seeing you here, Galadriel.” 

Eddie’s voice at the shell of your ear surprised you so much you dropped the record straight down to the carpeted floor. You quickly retrieved it, spinning around to face him. Eyes wide, you took in the sight before you.

Eddie wore ripped jeans the color of charcoal gray, a red T-shirt sporting a graphic made to look like the poster for Star Wars: Return of the Jedi, that damn leather jacket, and a denim vest that was loaded with patches and pins. He was smirking at you through heavy lidded eyes, and in his hand he held… your coffee cup. 

You had left it on the counter, and your name was written very clearly across the surface in thick, black lettering. 

You cursed yourself inwardly for your carelessness; If you had just remembered to grab it, he might have never known you were there. You sighed, reaching for the coffee cup, and as he handed it to you he grabbed the record from your other hand. 

“Little Willie John?” Eddie questioned, quirking a grin as he studied the vinyl that you’d been practically hiding behind while he’d been talking to Grant. “Didn’t peg you for a soul man.” 

You scraped your brain for something to say while you stood there awkwardly holding your coffee cup with both hands. Tapping your thumbnails on the plastic lid, what finally came out of your mouth was “Yeah, well… ‘Fever’ is good.” 

Eddie continued to stare at you with that fucking smirk, letting you chew on your lip and avoid eye contact like it was the black plague.

“Yeah, ‘Fever’ is good,” he said, his voice even. You weren’t sure if he was being patronizing or serious. “Have you… ever heard the cover by The Cramps?” 

You eyed him suspiciously. He was making civil conversation, which you hadn’t been expecting. Teasing? Yeah. Condescension? For sure. But civility? You weren’t sure what to make of that. “Yes, I have.” you said cautiously, nodding your head. “It’s good.”

Eddie smiled softly, nodding his head to match yours. “Good.”

The way you were looking at him, someone might think he’d just grown a second head. “Good.”

The two of you must have made a strange sight, standing quietly facing each other as you nodded in tandem. After a few seconds, your distaste for awkward silences got the best of you and you were barely able to stop the strangled chuckle from bursting out of your mouth. Eddie seemed to be right there with you, chewing his lips to keep a smile from showing itself. You had thought you’d be more angry with him, but you felt strangely neutral about Eddie at the moment. Performing the other night had been like therapy- all of the anger, the betrayal, the itch to prove him wrong and so very stupid- most of it had been left on the stage that night. You weren’t exactly a fan of the guy right now, but the venom you’d felt before was- for the time being- nowhere to be found. 

“Are you here for the Metallica album?” Eddie asked, the words tumbling out of his mouth rushed. 

You sighed, “Yeah. They ran out before I got one though.” You nodded towards the checkout counter. “I overheard bits and pieces of what you were saying up there; being friends with store employees has its perks, huh?”

Eddie raised an eyebrow as he placed the Little Willie John album back in its place. “Overheard, huh? You spying on me now, babe?” 

“Don’t call me babe.” 

Eddie’s eyes widened, his lips snapping out of his smirk into a thin line. A chill breezed through the store as a departing customer opened the door, the jingling of the bell on the doorframe echoing through the room. A harsh breath left his lips as Eddie stuck his hands in the deep pockets of his leather jacket. Your fingers twitched, remembering the smooth satin lining and how it had felt on the pads of your fingers when you’d worn it less than a week ago. 

“I deserved that.” Eddie said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I should have been honest with you from the beginning, and I took things as far as I did with you without letting you in on the full truth, and that was an asshole move. I get why you were mad.” He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath before tagging on, “I’m sorry.” 

You stared at him, eyes betraying none of the very sappy emotions you were fighting to keep at bay. “I appreciate the apology,” you said, careful to maintain a neutral tone. 

Eddie’s chin tilted upwards in question. “Aaaand you forgive me?” Oh gosh. His voice was so hopeful, you couldn’t help but take one look at those big brown eyes and imagine a puppy at the pound. Your heart made you feel like putty in his hands… but your brain? Your brain knew better.

You decided to make him work for it a little more. 

“You do know that an apology doesn’t automatically entitle you to my forgiveness, right?” you said, one hand finding purchase on your hip as you slowly moved to take a sip from your coffee. 

Eddie shook his head, eyes still wide and- to your delicious satisfaction- a little bit desperate. “No! I mean, yes, of course I know. You don’t owe me anything, I just… I wanted to say that I…I regret-”

“-being too much of a little bitch to just tell me the truth from the get-go?”

Eddie’s gaze narrowed at that. Adios, puppy dog eyes. 

“Hey now-”

You shrugged, your ego inflated at the fact that you were getting a rise out of him. He’d had his fun playing with you; it was your turn now.

“I’m just saying, a man who’s honest enough with himself that he can admit when he’s been a truly pathetic-”

“Whoa-”

“-sad,”

“Sad-?”

“-too horny to properly function-”

“Oh see now, coming from you-”

You were smiling ear to ear now, “ -Little. Bitch.” You punctuated each word with a condescending nod of your head. “...A man who could admit that to himself, I might just be prevailed upon to forgive.”

Eddie looked about ready to explode. Eyes narrowed, mouth agape as if warming up to open fire, head softly shaking back and forth, hands tensing to fists in his pockets. After a moment, his voice- eerily steady- spoke up. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game here, sweetheart.”

Your smile remained intact. “Not your sweetheart.” you purred. “Unless…” you leaned forward, eyes narrowing in on him. “-you say it.”

The only change to his expression was the corner of his mouth drawing up into a challenging smirk. “You want me to- no. No way.”

You shrugged. “Say it.”

“Are you an actual child?” Eddie scoffed.

“You’ve seen the proof that I most certainly am not.”

Eddie blinked twice. Slowly. 

“Not saying it.” he reiterated. 

“Then I don’t forgive you.”

The air between the two of you was about ten degrees hotter than the rest of the air in the music store. The electricity in your eye contact could have powered the whole building. The silence was only permeated by the quiet hum of radio music buzzing in the store speakers, only interrupted by the chime of the bell above the door once again. 

Finally, Eddie let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, let me propose a compromise.” 

You stood your ground, hand on hip while the other brought your coffee back to your lips. “I’m listening.” you murmured into the plastic lid.

Eddie pulled from his pocket the plastic-wrapped Metallica tape. “The two of us get in my van-”

Your eyebrows shot up so high, they practically got absorbed by your hairline.

“-in the front seat,” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Jesus. We get in my van and listen to the new album, because I’m a good person and don’t mind sharing.” He shook the tape in the air two feet from your face. “What do you say, princess?”

You sipped your coffee. “Don’t call me princess.” 

Eddie took a step closer. “Why not, is it affecting you?”

“It’s affecting my patience.”

Eddie smiled, and it wasn’t a snarky smile this time. It was bright and warm and made your heart do a little backflip, which you chose to pretend didn’t happen. 

“I really am sorry.” Eddie’s voice was sincere, low and came out in a throaty rumble. “And there’s nobody I’d rather listen to this album with than someone who shares my adoration for the way Kirk Hammett can fucking shred his way through a song that- were it by any other band- I would probably think was way too long.”

A chuckle bubbled out of you before you could stop it, and your free hand flew up to cover your smile daintily with the tips of your fingers. That only made Eddie’s goddamn grin grow wider. His lips quirked around it, like it were something to savor, to chew on and revel in its flavor. 

“So…” again, that deep, sincere voice. He said your name; it sounded sacred on his lips. “What do you say?” 

Dammit. 

You shook your head, exasperated by the smile you just couldn’t wipe off your face. “Lead the way.” You conceded. “But we’re stopping for breakfast.”

Eddie led the way out of the music store, a smug little grin lingering in the corner of his mouth the whole time. At one point you saw him look over his shoulder at something, and when you followed his gaze you saw Grant redirect his attention and hide his thumbs up faster than the speed of light. 

***

Two doors down from the music store was an old, wacky-looking diner called “Deedee & Bub’s” that looked like it had been opened by a hoarder who ran out of room to put things. 

You had to admit, the place had a weird, retro sort of charm that rubbed you all the right ways. Every square inch of wall space was taken up by old photos, strange art pieces, old license plates from not only different states, but different countries. Whoever “Deedee and Bub” were, they undoubtedly had stories to tell, judging by the amount of conversation pieces decorating the entirety of the store. They even had a whole corner of the diner dedicated to the largest collection of Santa Clause memorabilia you’d ever seen in your life. It was like a shrine to Christmas capitalism- weird as hell. You loved the energy of it. 

As you and Eddie sat yourselves down in a squeaky red booth, Eddie voiced exactly what you had been thinking. “Well this place is weird as shit in the best kind of way.” His brown eyes darted from wall to wall, taking in everything that he could even though this was the kind of place where, no matter how many times you visited, you would always notice something you hadn’t before. 

You grabbed one of the menus clipped to a stand on the side of your table closest to the wall. “It’s cute… but I’m withholding judgment until I get my food.”

It only took a moment of looking at the menus for your waitress to arrive at your table. Eddie was quick to tell her his order, which consisted of “french toast with strawberries and extra whipped cream, please” accompanied by a flutter of his eyelashes. You smiled politely at the waitress as you closed your menu and placed it back at the end of the table. 

“The Elvis Oatmeal and a black coffee, thank you.”

You watched the waitress jot down your orders in her little notebook before walking away, at which point Eddie pounced.

“Oatmeal, huh grandma?” he chuckled.

You scoffed, “Oh you’re one to talk,” you imitated him by batting your eyelashes the same way he had moments ago. “Yes ma’am, I’ll take a plate of sugar with a side of diabetes, please!” 

He laughed good naturedly at your impression, arms crossing over his chest as he leaned back into the booth. “Don’t hate me for having a sweet tooth, princess, that’s just how God made me.”

“Not your ‘princess’, and God made you with the palate of a six-year-old.” You laughed as

the waitress returned to set down your coffee. Before she could turn and leave Eddie asked, “Excuse me, miss, what are these cards here?”

You craned your neck to look at the cards Eddie was referring to- beside the menus, there was a small compartment that had been cut into the wooden surface of the tables, just big enough to hold a deck of cards. 

“Oh those are so fun!” the waitress replied, brightening at Eddie’s question. “The cards all have little conversation starters on them. Owners found a deck of them in a little gift store somewhere and came up with the idea to put them at the tables. Some come from the original deck, but the majority of the cards have prompts that staff members came up with over the years.” She waggled her fingers toward the deck as she turned away to attend to her other tables. “Feel free to use them if you’d like!”

As expected, Eddie was absolutely into the idea of the two of you interrogating each other with the questions on the cards. It didn’t take him long to divide the deck in half, place the cards between the two of you, then sit silently vibrating and smiling like a kid in a candy store as he watched you expectantly. You couldn’t see his knee bouncing under the table, but you could feel it nonetheless. 

You let a moment pass watching him, playing up the exhausted look on your face as you smirked at him until finally you sighed dramatically. “Fine, I’ll play, but I reserve the right to refuse to answer whichever questions I want.”

Eddie nodded excitedly, placing his elbows on the table and sitting his chin on fisted hands. He looked adorably ridiculous. 

You read the question off your first card. “What did your fifteen-year-old self imagine you’d be doing right now?” you raised your eyebrows, impressed. “Wow, that’s actually a pretty good question.”

Eddie’s expression shifted from excited to pensive, nodding absently as he pondered the question. “I’m proud to say that I expected myself to be doing something exactly like this.” He said. Something about his voice was quieter now, more reverent in the way he spoke. “Actually, I probably would have said I’d be working at the plant like my uncle. This- competing in something like Indie Battle that gets attention from real producers and shit- this was a pipe dream.”

You smiled softly, touched by his honesty. “So this is quite literally the dream for you, huh?” 

Eddie nodded, eyes warm and honey-sweet. “Pretty much. I think little Munson would be proud of future-me.”

You placed the card face-down beside the deck. “That’s all any of us can hope for.” you shrugged softly before nodding toward Eddie’s deck. “Hit me.”

A wicked glint sparkled in his gaze as he pulled his top card. “I hope it’s something dirty.” 

“For your sake, I hope it isn’t.”

His chest shook in a silent chuckle before reading the card. “What do you ask people for help with?”

You blanched, thinking about it for about two seconds before replying decisively with “Nothing.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?” 

You laughed into your coffee cup as you took a sip. “I’m good at handling things myself, that’s not a fault, it’s a skill.” 

Shaking his head, Eddie placed the card on the table. His gaze was joking, but something in his eyes told you he wasn’t the biggest fan of your answer. “See, you say that, but all I see in front of me is a control freak-”

“Hey!” you interjected.

“-who wouldn’t ask for help even if she needed it.” Eddie punctuated the end of his sentence with a pointed look that you couldn’t help but feel a little bit judged by. 

You didn’t like how perceptive he was being. It made you feel… too bare. And not in a good way. 

Redirecting the attention would do the trick. 

You ignored his comment, plucking the next card from your deck. “What’s your theme song?”

Eddie smirked. “I’ll let you know when I’m done writing it, sweetheart.” 

You snorted at his cheeky reply. “Not Master of Puppets?” you pushed. 

“I think that would be a little too obvious, don’t you think?”

You nodded, glancing at the tattoo on his forearm and trying not to think about the fact that you remember the way the raised, scarred skin felt under the caress of your thumb. “Fair.” you replied. 

You waited expectantly for Eddie to take the next card from the top of his deck, but he only sat there smiling at you. You quirked an eyebrow. “What?” 

“You let me call you ‘sweetheart' that time.” He replied.

This smug little bastard.

You rolled your eyes and sighed, shaking your head. “Oh my god, just draw the next card.”

Eddie’s smirk stayed plastered across his face at full power while he read the next question silently. Then, his smirk somehow grew even bigger as a dark chuckle escaped his lips. 

“What kind of-” his big brown eyes flicked up to yours, “-shower ideas do you get?”

You almost choked on your coffee.

“There is no way that’s what it says.” you coughed. Eddie turned the card around for you to read- that was what it said. 

You almost cashed in on your right to deny him an answer, but when you thought about it, you found that the answer actually wasn’t too embarrassing. 

“Actually, I don’t do much thinking in the shower.” 

You could tell from the dark blush on Eddie’s cheeks that his mind went straight into the gutter before you had even finished your answer. 

You chuckled, shaking your head. “What I mean is that’s kind of the only place where I can let my brain go blank. Usually I like to blare my music loud enough to hear over the water and sing along at the top of my lungs.” 

Eddie nodded, seeming to have overcome whatever naughty image he’d created in his head enough to comprehend what you were saying. “Gotta say,” he said, voice huskier than it had been a moment ago, “after what I saw on that stage the other night, that’s a show I wouldn’t mind buying a ticket to.”

Your smile dropped, and your expression shifted into the very picture of unamused. You sighed, wordlessly taking the white beverage napkin from beneath your coffee cup and crumpling it up into a little ball. Deadpan, you looked Eddie in the eyes and gave him a disappointed “Boooo,” as you tossed the napkin ball at his face.

He grimaced, not making a move to block the incoming projectile as harmlessly bounced off his cheek. “Right, I deserved that.” he grunted. 

“Damn right,” you snarked, pulling a new card from the top of your deck. Upon reading the question, your easy smile faded a bit, lips thinning into a melancholy line. This question was a bit more serious than the last.

Which was fine, because the way you felt about this guy was completely and totally indifferent, so his answer to this question shouldn’t affect you in the slightest. You really couldn’t care less what his opinion was on the subject.

“Do you believe in love at first sight?” you read aloud, tone remaining as neutral as you could manage. 

You watched Eddie’s brows pull together, really taking his time to think about this one. His idle fingers sought purpose in twisting open the corners of the napkin you’d thrown at him, eyes trained on the wooden surface of the table as he came to his own conclusion. When he finally opened his mouth to speak-

“Alright, that’s one Elvis Oatmeal-” This waitress’s timing was award-worthy, you had to hand it to her. “-and one strawberry french toast, extra whipped cream!” With both breakfasts placed before you, she placed her hands on her hips and smiled wide, oblivious to any tension she’d interrupted. “Anything else I can get ya?” 

The two of you shook your heads, smiling politely and thanking her for the food. As soon as she walked away, Eddie dove into his french toast head-first, almost as if he were hoping you would forget about a certain question on a certain card. 

“Well?” you prompted.

“Hm?” Eddie asked, coyly avoiding the question. “What?”

“So what’s your answer?”

Eddie smiled around a bite of strawberries and whipped cream. “I’m still thinking about it.” 

He chewed his french toast while you took a bite of your oatmeal, crushing a banana slice on the roof of your mouth. You both ate in silence for a moment before you chimed in. “Well I don’t.” you decided. 

Eddie’s expression betrayed nothing. “And why is that, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes. “Not your sweetheart.” you corrected, “And I think real love doesn’t happen until you actually, truly have had the time to know and understand a person.” Shrugging, you brought your coffee cup to your lips. “Anything felt before that is just lust or passion or infatuation.”

He nodded while he listened, really taking in your words and mulling them over. “You make a good point,” he conceded, “I’ll give you that. But I’m gonna have to side with the romantics on this one.”

You smiled, surprised at his answer. “Okay, Mr. Romantic,” you teased. The irony of the nickname wasn’t lost on either of you. “State your case, then.”

Eddie shrugged as he crushed a syrupy strawberry with his fork, mixing it into the whipped cream. “I’m not on a quest to change your mind or anything, like I said- you have a point. Love takes work, takes time.” You listened carefully, lips resting on the rim of your warm ceramic coffee mug. “But I think love can start before you know someone, really know them, I mean… not saying I’ve experienced it, I’m not that lucky…but I want to believe in it.” Your heart started to beat a little faster; you didn’t want to think about why. “I don’t know, something that pure and that rare…” 

Eddie’s eyes flicked up to yours, their gaze sudden and intense. “You know how people say everything in life eventually balances out? Like, there’s a “yin” to every “yang”, all that shit?”

You nodded, hanging on every word, your eyes held captive by his blazing brown ones.

“This world can be so fucked sometimes… for that to make sense, then I’ve gotta believe that something as mushy-gushy and naive as love at first sight can exist. For every time this world feels like a living hell, there’s got to be a time it feels like heaven. Otherwise, what are we doing this all for, you know?” he shrugged, stabbing his fork through a bite of french toast and dipping it in his strawberry-whipped cream concoction. “So yeah, that’s my answer.”

You weren’t sure when you’d started holding your breath, but it was definitely time to breathe now. 

Once oxygen filled your lungs, you huffed out a soft, breathy laugh. “Well damn, do I feel like a cynic.” You stirred your oatmeal, a smile latching itself to your lips and taking up residence whether you liked it or not. “Maybe if I had your way with words, Next Hex would have at least one original song by now.” 

Whoa. Where had that come from?

You didn’t want to give him a chance to comment on the biggest insecurity you had about your band- even if you had just voiced it out loud like a fucking moron. “How’s your food?” you asked.

Eddie’s eyes were wide, a little confused about the abrupt subject change, but he followed your cue beautifully. “Fucking delicious.” he practically moaned around a particularly large bite. “What is that you have over there, anyway? Is that peanut butter?”

You laughed airily, grateful that he wasn’t commenting on your original song dilemma. “Oatmeal with peanut butter, banana, and honey. If it was good enough for Elvis, it’s good enough for me!” You shoved a heaping bite into your mouth in hopes that it would shut you up enough to prevent further stupid comments. 

The two of you were able to eat in comfortable silence for several minutes before Eddie spoke softly, “I could help you, you know. Write a song.” 

You narrowed your eyes on him. “What makes you think I need help with that?”

He put up both hands in the air, a silent I surrender. “I’m not saying you do, just… offering, I guess.”

You still felt suspicious of such an offer, from your competition, no less. “Why?”

“Your band is good- really good. Too good to just be a cover band.” He stabbed another strawberry with his fork. “I mean, not so good that you could beat Corroded Coffin, but…”

You scoffed, his cockiness was so insufferable that it was almost funny. Almost. “Oh, we could cruise through the rest of the competition doing nothing but covers, and still wipe the floor with you guys.” You teased.

“Oh you could, huh?”

“Without a doubt.” you smiled confidently. “But if I, ah…” You struggled to keep your voice from shrinking. “...if I ever find myself wanting… a second opinion when it comes to songwriting, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to ask someone with experience in that field.” You pointed your spoon at him sternly. “Not that I would need help.”

Eddie fought a smile from creeping across his lips. “I know you wouldn’t, Galadriel.”

A mutual understanding- your pride couldn’t take another hit from this guy; he knew that. Eddie regretted the way that things had gone down between you two; you knew that. So he offered you help, and you accepted it- maybe not with the words you said, but fortunately you were both very good at reading between the lines. 

When you complimented his way with words, you were really saying ‘I wish I was as good at that as you are’. When he offered to help you, what he was really saying was ‘you can be’.

A secret code, just for the two of you. 

***

Breakfast had been a balm to the bitterness between the pair of you. The conversation cards and smell of strawberries and peanut butter had settled over the pair of you to form a sort of truce- neither of you had woken that morning with the intention of making amends, but you did have one thing in common:

You both fucking loved Metallica.

Now, the two of you sat in quiet anticipation as Eddie carefully unwrapped the plastic from the brand new tape. The sun had come out to warm the morning air, and you’d since shed your fleece and rolled up the sleeves of your baggy sweatshirt. You tried to assuage your impatience by taking the time to fold your fleece while you waited for him to finally pop the tape into his van’s radio, but you were getting antsy. 

Groaning impatiently and dropping the fleece into a pile at your feet, you shifted in the passenger seat and began to drum excitedly on the worn leather surface of his console. “Oh my god, just open it already!”

Eddie chuckled, carefully peeling the clear plastic off of the precious commodity. “I’m not scratching the case on the first day, sweetheart. Have a little patience.”

You pouted, eyes narrowing. “No.”

He paused, looking up at you curiously. There was a twinge of darkness to his pupils that made you suck in your stomach for some reason. An eyebrow raised. You matched it with your own. 

After a moment where Eddie looked as if he were about to say something, he apparently decided against it and huffed out a charged breath through his nostrils, disguising it as a laugh. He peeled the last bit of plastic away from the tape before carefully opening the case with a soft click. You could have sworn your heart rate skyrocketed with the knowledge that in a moment, you would hear the first new Metallica song to grace your ears since ‘88.

You closed your eyes and waited until finally- the low strum of an electric guitar filled your ears.

Often, Metallica’s songs started out brash, jarring. The rage with which they were composed was evident in the immediate ring of harsh guitar and drums. This… this was deeper. It crept, it rolled around in your brain, allowing the grungy darkness of its tone to slowly crescendo. You felt an infectious sense of euphoria as its melody crawled into your chest and wrapped itself up in your pulse. Before you knew it, your head was bobbing to the beat, and when you heard James Hetfield’s familiar voice growling through the speakers? Oh, you were gone. 

By the time the first chorus began, there was a giant, sappy smile on your face. You cracked one eye open to look at Eddie, and what you saw made your smile grow even wider. 

Eddie Munson sat in his driver’s seat, head bobbing, knees bouncing, fingers drumming, eyes closed and grinning like a maniac. You’d never felt more seen in your entire life. Every time you’d locked yourself in your room and listened to music for hours? Every time you had been mocked for the metal band stickers on the inside of your locker and the band pins on your backpack in high school? Every time that you had blared your music as loud as it could go through your headphones so you could fucking drown in it, because you knew you wouldn’t hear your own thoughts reflected anywhere except within those songs to which you’d clung so desperately? All of that was validated with one look of this man who gave himself to his music with reckless abandon. 

It was almost like he could feel your gaze on him. Eddie opened his eyes and took in the sight of your smile, your head as it bobbed to the beat of the music, and for a split second you wondered if he felt that same sense of validation when he looked at you; if there was a part of him- maybe that fifteen-year-old Eddie who’d already surrendered to an inevitable life working at the same plant his uncle returned to day after day- who saw this moment for what it was. Two kindred spirits, two twin souls, two freak metalheads, seeing and recognizing each other in a world where loving the music you loved could get you hurt by those who refused to try and understand it- and the two of you had not only kept on loving it, but made it your world. 

You thought he might say something, but he simply returned your smile and gave his wild mane an extra shake as he turned his headbanging up to the next level. You laughed; so did he. Then you both just listened- you let the music continue to wash over you. There would be time to talk about it later. 

That was how you passed the next hour. You both just sat there, taking in the music and letting every note, every word, every mood roll through you. By the end of the third song, you’d shucked off your boots and tucked them under your thighs to sit criss-cross-applesauce in the passenger seat. Neither of you said much, other than the occasional “damn” or “fuck yeah” whenever a chord progression or certain lyric hit one of you where it hurt. 

When the sixth track on the tape began, you scrunched your nose in concentration as you struggled to place the melody that was…yep, definitely familiar to you. When it finally landed in your memory, your eyes grew wide. 

“No. Fucking. Way.” you said, voice low and from your chest. 

Eddie glanced at you curiously. “What?”

You giggled, shaking your head in disbelief. “This riff is from West Side Story!” 

“West what now?”

You only laughed harder. “West Side Story, it’s a musical!”

He eyed you warily, “You’re telling me that Metallica referenced a musical in this song?” He shook his head, “You’re mistaken, fair Galadriel.”

You smiled smugly as he rolled his eyes, clearly not convinced. “Dude, I was in that play in high school. I know the song, it’s America, it’s all about the American dream versus the realities of being an immigrant, and- wait, gimme.” You grabbed the plastic case from where it sat on the dash. “...Hah! The song is called ‘Don’t Tread on Me’, so that reference makes complete sense.”

Eddie was smiling now, but his eyes still narrowed to show his obvious suspicion. “Yeah, I still don’t think Hetfield is a musical theater junkie, sorry.” 

You shrugged, replacing the tape case before relaxing back into the seat with your hands behind your head. “Tell yourself whatever you have to, Munson.” You smirked at him. “I know what I know. Metallica just referenced a fucking show tune.”

He shook his head, shoulders shaking with a silent laugh. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.” 

The two of you continued through to the end of the tape, listening with easy grins and tapping out drum lines on your knees. It was so simple; the way two people sharing something they both loved could so effortlessly just fall into comfortable silence with each other. To put it simply, time ceased to exist as long as you were sitting in the van and the tape was running. Unfortunately, however, all good things must end. Eventually, the tape ran out and Eddie offered you a ride back to your hotel. When he dropped you off, you lingered in his passenger seat for a minute even after he had parked. 

Looking into Eddie’s big, hazelnut eyes, you surprised even yourself with the words that tumbled out of your mouth. “You’re a pretty cool guy, Eddie Munson.” 

Unsurprisingly, that made him smile. “Yeah?” he asked airily. “Y’know, you’re pretty cool yourself.”

You grinned down at your boots as you laced them back up your ankles, a wonderful excuse to not have to look Eddie in the eye as he returned your compliment. Shyly, you hopped out of the van onto the concrete of the hotel parking lot. Before you shut the passenger side door, you glanced back at him and smiled sweetly. 

“Hey Eds?”

Eddie’s brows shot up, taken completely by surprise at the use of your new nickname for him. He audibly gulped before recovering with a “Y-yeah?”

You narrowed your eyes. “You’re still a little bitch.” Immediately, you shut his door and turned tail, practically skipping to the front door of the hotel. 

After he’d picked his jaw up off the floor, Eddie began to laugh deeply, darkly into the silence of his car. He shook his head as he threw his arm over the headrest of the passenger seat, checking his rear windows before reversing out of the parking lot. “Cheeky little brat…” he murmured under his breath, and his tires squealed against the pavement as he drove closer to the front doors on his way out of the lot. He honked his horn twice before you turned around just in time to see the big ‘ole birdie he was flipping you as he drove by. You doubled over as you laughed, heart fluttering, elated from the way your morning had turned out. As you made your way through the lobby to the elevator, you wondered how long it would take for him to call.

After all, you had left your fleece jacket in his van, and Eddie would need to get it back to you somehow.

Taglist: @cloudroomblog

[trulybetty]

Sunday Week in Review X

No obnoxious coffee in the car this week for a little driveway session. BUT Mr. Truly did bring me back one with doughnuts after Lil’ Truly’s (baby Truly's older sibling) swim lesson and couldn’t understand how a box of doughnuts could make me smile so wide (looking at you @secretelephanttattoo & @morallyinept 🍩)

Really enjoying the October prompts I started - it's been a fun break to get into something with no pressure and to just write without worrying about anything. I can't believe I'm like halfway through and I've not thrown in the towel yet (I've been tempted to skip a few days). It's also given way to some inspiration for some ongoing wip's and populated some new ones (I see you Tim Rockford).

But because of this, it's not really left me much time to read - so another light week, but it's okay! It means my TBR list (it's a work in progress that I've been neglecting and there's so much missing) is bursting with some incredibly great fanfics to get my teeth into next month!

Also, I am LIVING for everyone's weekly rounds ups, no matter how you format it or what you share - it's such a joy to see them popping up and getting to learn a little more about the people in this community!

T R U L Y U P D A T E S . . .

oct' x 08 - umbrellas (will miller x gn!reader)

oct' x 09 - ravens (maverick!frankie x reader)

oct' x 10 - oktoberfest (sequins!joel x reader)

oct' x 11 - pumpkin spice (marcus x reader) (parts II & III coming later this month)

oct' x 12 - cornfields(sequins!joel x f!reader)

oct' x 13 - black cat (tim rockford x gn!reader)

oct' x 14 - spooky (dieter x gn!reader)

W H A T I R E A D . . .

Fort Bravo (Dieter) by @secretelephanttattoo Of course our man Bravo would be building blanket forts in his walk in wardrobe this week. I very much would like to build my own to go hide out with and wouldn’t say no to sharing it with Dieter either. Medicinal Purposes (Frankie) by @grogusmum Ironic I read this at the start of the week and finished it with two days off of work for a migraine lol. Alas, I did not have Frankie show on my doorstep to offer his services - but this was a spicy read that I may have read a couple of times for educational purposes. 

PATS (Pedro Across the Street not RPF) by @oonajaeadira There’s a re-read this month, and not that I need an excuse, but it’s been fun dipping back into this world and reminding myself that I really should go book myself a massage. If you haven’t read this series I wholeheartedly recommend it, it’s top tier. It’s a comfort and a spicy read at the same time. 

Headshots | Chapter 3 (Marcus) by @secretelephanttattoo El has been making waves in the Pike Puddle™️ with her Marcus Pike offerings as of late and this third instalment to Headshots is makes no less of an impact. This is so Marcus and just so sweet. 

Salty & Sweet (Marcus) by @secretelephanttattoo I’m not the biggest fan of popcorn, but if Marcus Pike wants to eat it off me, who am I to say no? 

Swimming Lessons with Catfish (Frankie) by @avastrasposts Okay, aside from the jokes that this is the title of the sex tape could make of this fic, this is an incredibly smoke show of a drabble that I may or  may not have read a couple of times. 

Frankie to the Rescue (Frankie) by @avastrasposts Again, Avastra is just blowing it out of the water with these drabbles this week! The whole time reading this I was excited to find out how it would play out and it did not disappoint. 

Paranoid Heart (Javi P.) by @goodwithcheese I’m so behind with my reblogs this week (don’t look in my drafts) - but Megan comes in again this week with another fantastic instalment to this series and I’m falling for these two so hard. 

in another life… (Frankie) by @chronically-ghosted Speaking of being behind, I read this while on one of my sick days and I’d you’ve not read Taylor’s work, you’re sleeping on it and you should check it out. This here is a slice of life with Frankie that is utterly atmospheric and beautifully written. 

Bloom | Chapter 2 (Joel) by @wildemaven-prompts I. Am. Here. For. This 🙌 the little slow burn, Joel being a little awkward, the descriptions of the flowers 🌸 and most of all Ellie who almost manages to steal the show in every appearance. This whole series is a delight and we’re only two chapters in!

Unlikely Friends (Joel) by @sweetercalypso Despite having adopted Frankie Cat™️ last month I’m still not 100% on the cat train (don’t tell Frankie, she’s still bitching about the Andes man) - but this is incredibly sweet and I absolutely resonate with Joel trying to win over a cat (Frankie Cat may have just pounced at my feet from under the armchair that I’m supposed to pretend I didn’t see her under)

…assie (Frankie) by @frenchiereading I love everything Mel has been sharing with us from the Shared Breaths universe and this is just incredibly sweet. I don’t want to spoil anything, but my heart may have grown three sizes after reading the ending. 

Ring Toss (Frankie) by @morallyinept Okay, if @secretelephanttattoo hadn’t changed my perspective on doughnuts, then Jett has permanently altered all thoughts about them. This is is just, lustfully and sinfully indulgent and Frankie is just a menace 🍩

M E M O R A B L E P O S T S . . .

Megan's 1K celebrations, go drip into her Asks and repent to our Gouda Mother of Cheesus

Catfish PhD program had another assignment: Module 6 - The Licence Suspension

All of @wildemaven's moodboards, they're beautiful and such a mooood 💕

Three words, LAW. ENFORCEMENT. BALL. @sin-djarin threw out a thot and a hero came along and answered the prayer we didn't all know we needed, @for-a-longlongtime and presented us with a treat with this WIP

I did a bad job of tracking this week, there were so many more great posts this week that I got to be a part of and enjoyed!

B R O U G H T T H E J O Y . . .

Honestly? This community. I feel like I sound like a broken record on the topic now and that if I keep going on about how wonderful everyone is here it’s going to lose all meaning. But I’m getting to witness friendships being made through posts, a community being built in real-time and getting to know you all better is a real joy.

Having said that, despite the bullshit I put out - I am socially awkward at my core and trying to preach what I say and jump into more inboxes and DM's. But both of mine are always open if you want to drop down and discuss anything or everything 🙌

Also, if we want something superficial to balance that out, I’m almost finished with Sons of Anarchy season seven, finally (oh I have so many feels), and copious amounts of gratuitous Jax Teller nudity certainly never goes unwelcomed amongst the angst (Kurt Sutter knew what he was doing). I will be dropping into your Asks at some point @laurfilijames, be warned (also still thinking about the ask you sent me, is not forgotten!).

T H I S W E E K ' S J A M . . .

Adeem the Artist has been on permanent rotation since @goodwithcheese shouted them out and I love everything about this song. The feel-good beat, the voice and those lyrics? 🙌 *perfection*

Happy Sunday all! Wising everyone a good week ahead! 💛

[bexorok]

Poorly written Sonic Movie 3 Pitch/outline pt. 7

THE scene

This was actually one of the first scenes I wrote. Maria’s death might be one of the most heartbreaking but somehow beloved scenes in the entire franchise. Why is that? I think it’s a moment that a lot of people really connected with due to the shear amount of tragedy in it. A lot of people played this game as a kid, and this was probably the most thought provoking scene in all of Sonic media. I was too young to understand watching my cousins play the game what the scene really meant, but I had that moment latter on watching Sonic X. I was a kid seeing another kid go through this great sacrifice and felt the weight of her choice, and it made me understand Shadows philosophy before and after he remembered.

I wanted to make that really stand out. I wanted to build and feel the connection between Shadow and Maria the way Project Shadow did. I wanted to capture how they were just kids dreaming of seeing the world, and wanted the audience to feel the weight of the consequences of Maria’s choices, and the added tragedy that shadow only remembered the sacrifice and not what it was for.

I also wanted Amy’s speech to go beyond just “give humanity a chance”. I know her speech to him is pivotal, but I decided to make it focused on reminding him of who he really is rather than the means of revenge Gerald turned him into. I also wanted it all to tie back into her own experiences and character development through the course of the film. Of remembering those of the past while still opening yourself up to new people.

This might seem way too deep, or like I’m reading way too much into it, but this is how that original scene makes me feel now. I hope people enjoy it, and I hope people know that even though I title these as “poorly written” I actually put a lot of thought into them. Thanks for reading. I’ll definitely write more as my mind races with even more concepts I hope that the movies include.

Interior: Space Colony Ark

Amy’s search for sonic leads her to an open observation room. The entire wall is taken up by a single window, and earth can be seen. Lights continue to flash, and the distant sound of sirens reminds the viewer that the Ark has only 22 minutes until it enters earth’s atmosphere.

In the room, Sonic is sitting on the floor, looking out at the earth as it draws near. Amy opens her mouth to say something, then closes it. She sits down next to him.

Sonic: It's weird seeing it like this. We tried so hard to save it, and now it’s too late. I can’t fix this.

Amy: I know. You can’t alone. But maybe there’s still time.

Sonic: how? Shadow’s the only other person here that can use the emeralds’ power, and I can’t get through to him.

Amy: you don’t have the full story.

Sonic glances at her.

Sonic: Then who does?

Amy: I think he does. He just doesn’t remember.

Sonic: What do you mean?

Amy: I mean, I saw a security tape. I saw… everything that happened that day. And I heard everything too. Shadows story lines up, but it’s missing a huge piece of the puzzle. He doesn’t remember how much he and Maria loved the earth. All he remembers is the moment all of that came to an end, and nothing else.

Sonic: So what now? Show him the video?

Amy: no. This is something he needs to remember himself. I just need to talk to him.

Sonic: how do you know he would still want to work together?

Amy’s face brightens into a smile.

Amy: Sonic, you’ve always seen the best in people, given them the chance they needed to prove themselves. You never gave up on them, never gave up on me. It’s one of the things I admire most about you. You have an amazing power, and it has nothing to do with the emeralds. Somehow, despite being alone for so long, after everything you went through, you brought us all together, as a team. As a family. If there’s anyone on earth that Shadow would rally behind, it’s you.

Flashbacks of moments from the previous movies appear as Amy talks. Sonic asking Tom for help getting to San Francisco. Him talking to knuckles on the beach. Him holding out his hand to Tails to follow him through the portal. Him giving Amy a fist bump, signifying that she’s officially part of the team. The flashbacks end with one group shot of team Sonic celebrating finding their first chaos emerald.

We cut back to the room. Amy is dreamily staring at the earth, lost in thought. Sonic looks at her in awe, a blush creeping up on his face.

Sonic: that… that was the most beautiful thing anyone’s ever said to me.

Amy smiles at him.

Amy: And I believe every word of it. I’m sure that Shadow will too.

Sonic sheepishly grins back at her.

Sonic: I don’t think I’ll be able to do it alone this time.

A realization crosses Amy’s mind as her eyes light up.

Amy: I need to help him become the hero…

Sonic: sorry, what was that?

Amy: (more excited) I need to help him become the hero! The cards weren’t just talking about teaching you, they were telling me that I have to be the one to talk to Shadow!

Sonic: the fortune?

Amy: oh thank you Sonic!

She embraces him and his face flushes again. She realizes what she’s doing and stops, also looking bashful.

Amy: you go find the emeralds, leave the rest to me!

She runs out of the room and down the hall. Sonic watches for a moment before he smirks and takes off to find the emeralds.

THE scene

Interior: Space Colony ARK

Shadow is looking out the window of the observatory room. The ARK continues to gain speed, and earth slowly but surely gets bigger. Amy runs into the room.

Amy: Shadow…

Shadow: have you come to admire the view one last time? I must admit, it’s bittersweet seeing it like this.

Amy: Do you know why you’re doing this?

Shadow: an odd question. This was my mission. Destroy humanity.

Amy: Are you sure?

Shadow turns to glare at her.

Shadow: and what is that supposed to mean?

Amy: We found some records earlier. Do you really know why Gerald created you?

Shadow opens his mouth to say something, only to close it again.

Amy: You weren’t meant to be a weapon like GUN wanted you to be. You were created to heal.

Shadow winces.

Shadow: None of that matters! My purpose is gone now and it’s thanks to those despicable humans! The only thing left is this!

Amy: Is that what you really think?

Shadow holds his head in his hands.

Amy: (realization) You keep fighting it, the rest of the memory.

Shadow: Shut up!

Amy: I’m so sorry, Shadow. What happened was horrible. It must be so painful to remember, to have only that final moment replay in your head again and again. It’s the only thing you were able to hold onto. That isn’t your fault though.

Shadow writhes, his head pounding.

Amy: I know it hurts to think about. That’s why you haven’t let yourself remember. But letting yourself remember all the good times you had together, the moments that gave your life and hers meaning, it’s how you can honor her memory.

Shadow clams his breath.

Shadow: When? When will it stop hurting?

Amy smiles sadly.

Amy: I wish I knew.

Over Amy’s monologue, we see flashes of her past as well as Sonic and Knuckles. Amy with her grandmother, learning how to fortune read, followed by an image of her in front of a gravestone with a flower in hand. Sonic wrapped in a hug from Longclaw, followed by the scene of him racing towards her only to phase through the ring portal as it closed. Then the scene of him looking out at the hologram of Longclaw disappearing as he solemnly reaches towards it. Knuckles looking at his father walking away with the rest of his tribe, followed by a scene of him and the ghost of Pechacamac.

Amy: There isn’t anyone who can answer that. But we remember anyway. Because it means all those moments meant something. They helped make us who we are now.

Shadow exhales, seemingly preparing for something.

Amy: I know it’s painful, but please, try to remember the entire story. Remember what happened before the end.

Shadow relaxes, letting his mind finally go.

We cut to a flash of memories all coming at once. The first is of Maria looking at Shadow in a testing tube, covered in wires as he’s suspended in fluid. She presses her hand up to the glass and stares up in wonder.

The next is of them dancing in the halls of the ARK while Yellow Submarine play on a cassette tape. They laugh together as they trip up while trying to dance.

The clips get more brief.

There's a memory of Shadow helping Maria brush her hair, putting in her signature hairband, one of them looking up at the Milky Way, one of Shadow resting his head on Maria’s lap as they look at the earth, one of them eating together in the mass hall, one of them reading together, and moments that flash too fast to properly make out what’s happening.

The flashes suddenly stop, and we cut to the final memory. Maria is looking at Shadow through the glass of the space capsule with tears in her eyes. We hold on her for a few seconds before the camera cuts to Shadow, looking terrified.

Shadow: Maria, what are you doing?

Maria: I’m not going to let them catch you, Shadow. Grandpa and I found out the truth. If they catch you, they’ll turn you into a weapon. I have to do this.

Shadow: Maria, please… Come with me! We said we would go to earth together!

Maria: I’m sorry, Shadow. I wish I could go with you. There’s nothing in the universe that I want more than to go with you! But I wouldn’t survive down there. My illness would catch up to me the moment the capsule opened.

Shadow: I can’t leave you!

Maria: And I can’t let them take you!

The room is completely silent as they both stare at each other.

Maria: Shadow, there’s a whole world of people that need you. Give them a chance. You were created to help humanity, not just me. Please, I beg you, give them the same hope that you gave me. Protect them. Let them live their dreams. Promise me you will.

Shadow: Maria…

Maria: Promise me, shadow! Please...

The room is silent as we pan on Shadow, looking reluctant.

Shadow: I… I promise.

Maria smiles through her tears. She walks over to the lever, resting her hand on it.

Maria: Shadow. You’re the best brother I could have ever had. I love you. If you don’t remember anything else, remember this, I love you.

Tears stream down her face as she turns to smile at him.

Maria: Sayonara, Shadow The Hedgehog.

Before she can pull the lever, an agent holding a gun walks into the room.

Agent: freeze!

Maria doesn’t even turn to look at him. Both hands are on the lever, a determined look on her face.

Agent: I said stop!

Maria closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

Shadow: Maria! No! Please don’t-

Maria pulls down on the lever, and we hear the sound of a shot ring out as we focus on shadow, suspended in the single moment. All sound is cut, except for the sound of ringing.

Shadow: MARIA!

The cry is visceral, and pierces the silence. We only focus on the shot of shadow as the capsule finally is ejected into space. Shadow curls up. No sound is heard, but the full body heaving lets us know he’s crying.

We cut back to the present shot of Shadow. Tears are running down his face as he tries to maintain his composure.

Shadow: Maria… I- I promised you I would protect them. What have I done?

Amy: It's not too late, shadow!

Shadow turns to her, wiping his face.

Shadow: It’s not too late...

Amy: Sonic’s already gone to get the chaos emeralds. He should be waiting for you.

Shadow smiles in relief.

Shadow: I can’t believe I’d forgotten.

Amy: I’m sure it wasn’t easy remembering all of that.

Shadow: No. Remembering was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But now I know my true purpose. I won’t be the weapon they want me to be. I won’t be the means of revenge that Gerald tried to turn me into.

Amy: Well, what are you waiting for? You have a promise to keep.

Shadow smiles.

Shadow: Thank you, Amy.

In a flash, he runs out of the room.

Amy smiles to herself.

Amy: You’re welcome, Shadow.

She runs out of the room herself to meet up with everyone.

[oph3liatlou]

— WHY DO I CARE SO MUCH?

pairing(s) - comforting!lisa cuddly x sick!reader

word count - 1,194

warnings - full sarcasm, sexual innuendos, no implied gender for reader but probably male.

proofread? - no, i’m too tired from moving 😭

note from author - my nickname from my friends is literally ‘house’, can you tell? ;)

summary - when you don’t show up for work, your boss gets concerned.

You hadn’t shown up for work that day, nor had you called in sick. Cuddy, your boss - was furious, to the point that she had actually, shown up at your house. There was a knocking and, you opened it to see your bosses face fuming. “Do you just not show up to work now?”

You were clearly sick, but that didn’t stop the sarcasm coming out of your mouth. “Wow, you look nice this evening. Is that new makeup, titled ‘bitter rage’?”

Cuddy rolled her eyes, annoyed by your sarcasm but, ignoring it as she had other things to say. “You know, next time, you could actually call in - instead of making me drive all the way over here to check in on you.”

You were quick to retort, despite your brain fog from your cold. “But that would defeat the purpose of me annoying you.” You paused to sniffle. “It’s so cool, how I can do that when I’m not even at work!” You gasped.

Cuddy scoffed, looking you up and down from where she was standing. “You’re such a child.” She muttered before continuing. “I should’ve expected something like this from you - what if patients were counting on you to be there today?”

“Don’t worry - I told them to hold off on the dying part until I get back.” You nodded with a sarcastic smile.

Cuddy’s face scrunched up in annoyance as she rolled her eyes before stepping forward, and nudging her way into your house. You closed the door in response and turned to the couch. “You know your attitude towards work is why nobody likes working with you, right?”

You covered your nose to sneeze before responding, mocking her tone. “You say that like I care.”

“Why do you think you’re still single at your age?” She said, not caring how rude she sounded.

You made your way to your couch, grumbling. “You’re still single too,” You paused. “I just like strippers.”

Cuddy frowned, not impressed by your comment - but also not surprised. “At lease I haven’t been caught in another act with some sleazy chick, on one of the hospitals security cameras. Did you forget about that?” She teased.

You stood, heading towards the kitchen to find a bottle of cold medication and taking three. “No, I just wanted the tape for later.”

Cuddy was stunned for a few seconds, but managed to regain her composure. “The nerve of you - is everything sexual for you?” She asked, following you into the kitchen.

You put the bottle back in the drawer as you chuckled. “Yeah.” You paused for a moment, looking at her and furrowing your eyebrows. “Now, are you just here to add to my pre-existing headache?”

She looked at you with a straight face, before her eyebrows furrowed and she crossed her arms. She ignored your question. “One, you’re coming back to work tomorrow. And two - as your boss and, your friend - you should really be taking better care of yourself.” She said, as her voice and expression softened.

You stayed silent for a moment, sniffling from your cold - but still looking her up and down. You cleared your throat and ruined the moment. “I should…” You agreed. “Make me some soup then!” You shuffled past her, back to sitting on the couch and flipping through the TV stations.

Cuddy looked annoyed once again. This was more entertaining than the TV. “Really? Now Im supposed to take care of you?” Her arms were still crossed. “You know, if you got a girlfriend like you always say you want - she could take care of you when your sick…make you soup.”

Despite you being sick, you smirked at her from the couch. “No girlfriends ever made me soup.” You raised an eyebrow. “You wanna start?”

Cuddy groaned, clearly not wanting to start anything with you. However, she soon let out a loud sigh and started walking towards the kitchen. “You’re such a child.” She repeated before going into the kitchen.

You heard things being moved around as Cuddy prepares to make you some soup. You didn’t say a word, but your eyes followed her around the kitchen.

After several minutes of moving in the kitchen, Cuddy came back into the living room where you were. She placed the bowl of soup on the coffee table in front of you. “It’s chicken noodle - it’s also all you had.” She said, the first part being genuine.

You nodded at her and started eating the soup - too prideful to thank her now.

Cuddy frowned slightly at your lack of acknowledgment. “I don’t want to hear you whining and complaining about your cold once you’re back to work tomorrow.” She said, clearly not letting you get away with your attitude - even though you always did.

You glanced up at her as you swallowed your soup. “Why do you think I have you nursing me back to health?” You flirted - out of habit.

You saw Cuddy’s face turn a slight shade of pink but, she waited for a moment before speaking. “I feel like I’m the only one who can take care of you.” She said, her expression a mixture of concern and annoyance.

You nodded as she sat down next to you. “You’re right.” You started before pursing your lips. “Wilson’s a terrible girlfriend.” You joked, in full sarcasm.

Cuddy sighed while looking away from you and towards the TV. She was clearly irritated. “I’m trying to be serious here,” She sighed once more, this time looking at you. “Why do I care so much?”

You look at her and stay silent before standing and taking your bowl into the kitchen. “Thanks for the soup.” You settled, not answering her hypothetical question.

Cuddy watched as you walked away into the kitchen to clean your bowl. “Don’t mention it…” She mumbled under her breath - she knew how avoidant you were. As you came back, she checked her phone - someone from work needed to see her earlier in the morning then when she’d normally come in.

“Work?” You asked gently, sitting back on the couch. She stood as if she was about to leave.

“Unfortunately.” She responded, still looking at the messages on her phone. “I have back-to-back meetings tomorrow about some hospital funding.” She said before shaking her head. “I should get home.”

You scoffed for a moment. “Sounds boring.” You paused for a moment looking at her. “Just stay here, you’re closer to the hospital and you could probably get a few extra hours of sleep.”

Cuddy looked at you, surprised by the offer. “Are you sure?” She asked, thinking about it for a few seconds. “I don’t want to intrude.” Cuddy paused with an unsure expression. But, when she thought about it - your house was way closer to the hospital and she wouldn’t have to be up so early.

You shrugged as if her choice didn’t effect you. “Yeah, whatever. I’m going to bed myself.” You paused. “There’s blankets in the closet, if you’re staying.”

And you were already halfway down the hallway to your bedroom.

[tanjir0se]

Liquid Courage

Tengen’s end of term party is the event of the year, but naturally-introverted Giyu can only withstand so much of their nonsense. Kyojuro (six beers in) attempts to cheer him up via impromptu ear piercing. (Alt title: I don't know how to write oneshots)

KNY Modern AU Ships: Giyu x Kyojuro Words: 2.5k Warnings: Alcohol use? Language?

@babykirara i blame this garbage on you ✌︎('ω'✌︎ )

“Aw, c’mon, Sanemi! For someone who looks so cool you really are a wet blanket.” Tengen whined. Sanemi scoffed and shifted the beat up guitar on his lap.

“Well we can’t all be drunk and stupid all the time.”

“Hey! I’m not drunk.” Tengen protested. "Yet."

Sanemi grinned. “Just stupid, then.” The grin faltered a bit and his brow pulled down as he continued. “I told you, I don’t sing.”

Tengen crossed his arms and opened his mouth to protest, but Shinobu spoke before he could. “He doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to, Tengen, you shouldn’t make him.” She said chidingly, though her usual crisp tone was slightly slurred by the bottle of wine she and Hinatsuru were sharing.

“Ah, but I bet his voice is so pretty!” Mitsuri chimed in, her permanently rosy cheeks now even more flushed than usual. Sanemi scoffed again, though it was without the venom with which he addressed Tengen. Speaking of, Tengen was already lowering himself to sit cross-legged beside him, pulling out one of his many soundboards and fiddling with some dials.

“Alright fine, leave the showmanship to me, as usual. If you won’t sing I’ll just have to accompany you with my s—”

“No!” Protested several voices at once. Makio, who was sitting closest to her boyfriend, smacked him on the arm.

“I am WAY too high for your noise right now, don’t you even think about it!”

Laughter erupted from all sides of the living room where the impromptu concert was taking place, including from Tengen himself, who had long since learned that if you’re going to have three girlfriends you should also make sure to have a good sense of humor.

Every year Tengen and his girlfriends hosted an end of term party, and he liked to think of it as THE social gathering of the year. This term, not only had he finally convinced the newest teacher Giyu to attend, he’d also finally bothered Sanemi into bringing the beat up acoustic Tengen had seen him loading into his trunk one afternoon. Mitsuri had managed to sweet talk him into playing a few songs for them. The thing was more duct tape than wood, but Sanemi was clearly skilled, fingers gliding easily over the aging frets as if by instinct alone.

“Wait, I know who would sing for us!” Hinatsuru said brightly. “Kyojuro! He loves to sing!” Sanemi laughed aloud, though a bit derisively.

“Oh god, I think I might rather listen to Tengen’s noise.”

“It’s called Folktronica—”

“Wait, where is Kyojuro?” Shinobu interrupted. The group scanned each other’s faces. “Come to think of it, where’s Giyu?”

Tengen leaned back. “They must be upstairs fucking somewhere—” the remark earned him another smack from Makio, but he just laughed again. “Oh come on, you know it’s true! Kyo’s been all over the new guy since the term started!”

Mitsuri giggled and stole Shinobu’s wine to take a sip. “Ah, do you really think he’s made a move? The romantic tension is so strong just watching them makes me blush!”

Sanemi dramatically stuck his tongue out. “Just watching them makes me gag.” He said, flashing the silver stud in the center of his tongue at Mitsuri teasingly. “I almost hope they’re up there fucking, ‘cause right now they’re fucking unbearable.”

Tengen nudged Sanemi with his shoulder. “Why don’t you go up there and play them a love ballad, ‘Nemi?” He batted his eyelashes at Sanemi, who kicked him.

“Why don’t you go get me another beer, dickhead?” The group erupted in laughter again and Tengen rose to pour another round of drinks.

Away from the laughter and chaos of Tengen’s living room, Giyu had found refuge in the cool tiled floor of Tengen’s bathroom. He’d also found Suma’s cat, who evidently shared his distaste for large gatherings. A little drunker than he would have liked to be, Giyu sat on the floor and let the room spin around him and tried to focus on the softness of Yoruko’s fur, as if he could will himself sober again.

A soft knock, followed by a loud voice. “Giyu? Are you alright? Are you throwing up?”

Giyu nearly smiled at the familiar voice and reached up to the door handle to let his roommate inside. Kyojuro’s bright eyes were wide and concerned until they fell onto Giyu’s face and saw that he was not in fact throwing up.

“Oh! You’re alright!” Kyojuro came inside and shut the door behind him with his hip, hands busy carrying two red cups. “Ooh! You found Yuroko!” He set the cups on the counter, then knelt down and gave the cat a few pats on the head.

Giyu watched in silence, wondering why Kyojuro was in the bathroom with him rather than out at the party. He nearly stopped breathing when Kyojuro’s eyes raised back up to meet his. “What’s up?” He asked, tone bright, as if genuinely convinced Giyu had some kind of important business on Tengen’s bathroom floor.

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, unsure what to say. “I—” he began, then stopped himself. Kyojuro stood erect again and watched him carefully for a moment before nodding slowly.

“Sorry.” He said. “I hope they’re not too much for you out there. I know they can all be…a lot.” He sheepishly rubbbed the back of his neck. Giyu couldn’t help but notice his face was flushed red with alcohol.

The invitation to the party had been from Shinobu rather than Tengen, and Giyu could remember it word for word. Party at Tengen’s tonight. He knows Kyo won’t come if you don’t. Parties weren’t exactly his thing, but she was right. Kyojuro wasn’t like him, didn’t shy away at attention, but rather commanded it. He was the life of any party, the sunlight in any room. Giyu would have felt too guilty to deprive his friend that, so he’d agreed to attend the gathering. But his social battery was beyond drained at that point, now reaching a critical failure.

“It’s…not that.” Giyu managed after a moment. Surprising even himself, he genuinely had had fun. Especially when Kyojuro had been beside him. “I’m having fun, just—” he wasn’t sure how to put it so Kyojuro—bright, sociable Kyojuro—would understand.

Kyojuro nodded sagely, the action almost comical given the drunken waver in his posture, then retrieved the cups he’d placed on the counter and lowered himself to sit beside Giyu. “Battery empty, huh?”

Giyu raised an eyebrow in surprised interest while Kyojuro continued. “That happens to my brother a lot too. Says he has to spend some time alone to recharge. Oh. I should probably…” he handed Giyu one of the cups— water—and moved to stand. Giyu’s voice stopped him.

“No, you can stay.” He said quickly. Too quickly. Kyojuro grinned and relaxed back against the door again, taking a sip from his own cup—beer. “You’re right,” Giyu continued. “But I’m still having fun. Going to the piercing shop today was more fun than I expected.”

Kyojuro groaned loudly and dramatically, which almost made Giyu smile. “Ah, I wish I could have gone!” The group had split up earlier that day. Mitsuri had been trying to convince Shinobu to get her nose pierced, and Sanemi, who already had multiple piercings, was quick to want to tag along. Shinobu had invited Giyu along, and without a good reason to decline he’d been roped into the outing as well. Kyojuro had instead been given the high honor of accompanying Tengen to the liquor store.

“I wanted to meet you there but Tengen always takes forever to decide at the store! He was stuck between two types of tequila for twenty minutes!” Giyu smiled, silently encouraging Kyojuro to continue. “How did Sanemi do with his tongue piercing? Agh, I think I’d be too scared!”

“I think he only got it to show off.” Giyu said. He took a grateful sip of the ice water Kyojuro had brought him. “He dared me to get my ears pierced and only decided to do his tongue after I said no.”

If it was possible for Kyojuro to brighten even further, he did, his smile broadening across his face from ear to ear as he let out a delighted chuckle. “You afraid of needles, Giyu?”

Giyu laughed back, feeling heat coming to his cheeks at Kyojuro’s teasing. “Not that! Just…I don’t know. Wasn’t ready I guess.”

Kyojuro was already moving, handing Giyu his cup and standing to root through Tengen’s bathroom drawers. “Weren’t ready?! How many drinks have you had now?” He turned to look at him very seriously, and Giyu blanched when he noticed his friend was now holding a sewing kit and a lighter.

“Not enough.” Giyu said with a raised eyebrow. Kyojuro’s grin was as suspicious as it was disarming. He responded by nodding at the punch in Giyu’s left hand.

“Liquid courage, baby!” Kyojuro declared proudly. Being called baby by Kyojuro was very nearly all the convincing Giyu needed, but not quite. “I know how to do this. Gimme your ear—”

“I’m not sure that’s a great idea,” Giyu said, though didn’t protest further because Kyojuro had sat back down beside him and rested his arm on Giyu’s shoulder, gently brushing Giyu’s dark hair away from his ear. “Have you ever done this before?”

“Who do you think did Tengen’s septum?” Kyojuro paused to shake his unruly blonde hair behind his head and tie it up into a loose and messy ponytail.

Giyu frowned, but it was impossible to be serious with Kyojuro when his hair was up and he was looking at you like that.

“Didn’t Hinatsuru?”

“Yes!” Kyojuro plucked an ice cube out of Giyu’s drink with two fingers. “But I watched!”

“Well, thank god you’re a professional.” Giyu muttered. Kyojuro laughed loudly and heartily. “And how many beers have you had?”

“Hmm. Six! I think…”

“Oh good.” Giyu flinched at the cold when Kyojuro held the ice to his earlobe. The cold contrasted the warmth radiating off of Kyojuro, who scooted ever closer to him, sticking his tongue out in laser-focus on his earlobe. He was close enough that Giyu could feel his breath on his neck. “I’ll be mad if you mess this up.” He bluffed.

“Oh, you’ll forgive me.” Kyojuro said self-assuredly. He briefly ran the lighter over the largest sewing needle in the kit. “You like me too much to stay mad at me.”

Liquid courage indeed. Giyu doubted Kyojuro would dare say something like that to him if they were both sober. Kyojuro’s face was flushed an even deeper red, though Giyu was no longer certain if it was from alcohol or from the proximity of their faces, Giyu’s shoulder pressed against Kyojuro's chest, tilting his head to the side and gathering his ponytail away from the ear Kyojuro had targeted first.

"Okay, ready?" Giyu answered only by closing his eyes tightly, bracing for the pain. "Okay one, two..."

Tengen had just climbed the stairs, now thoroughly buzzed, in search of the two missing partygoers to make sure they were alright (or join them, as he'd joked to Makio). Just as he reached the top of the stairs a loud yelp made him flinch in surprise.

"Ouch!"

"What?!"

"Uh oh--"

"What did you do?"

He braced himself and jogged toward the source of the shouting, the upstairs bathroom, and shoved the door open without knocking. His eyebrows shot upwards at the scene he was met with on his bathroom floor.

Giyu and Kyojuro were camped out on the floor against the wall, two plastic cups and a lighter between them, both twisted into a strangely tangled position. Kyojuro had Giyu's ear between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand, Giyu appeared to be attempting to pull away, and both turned as much as they could to look at Tengen as he entered. It took him a moment to realize what had happened, but a closer inspection revealed that the needle Kyojuro had been apparently using to pierce Giyu's ear had gone right through both the lobe and Kyojuro's own finger, pinning them together.

"No way!" Tengen laughed in delight. Giyu's face flushed deep scarlet and Kyojuro sheepishly laughed along with Tengen. "Oh my god, you two."

“Six beers might have been too many!” Kyojuro shouted in apparent agreement. Giyu shook his head, wiggling the needle and making them both yelp again in pain. “Sorry, Giyu.”

“I don’t forgive you.” He muttered, but didn’t mean it.

“We leave you two alone for ten minutes…” Tengen laughed again and put his hands on his hips. “You’re worse than me! Kyo, c’mon, unstick yourself and get your dumb ass back downstairs. Hinatsuru needs you to sing for her.”

Kyojuro turned back to his roommate and gently removed the needle, freeing them both. “Sorry.” He said again, blushing furiously, still smiling. His voice was about as soft as it ever got, which was still well above the average person’s speaking volume.

“And Giyu,” Tengen began. He wasn’t an idiot, and could guess why Giyu had retreated to an upstairs bathroom in the middle of a party. Not everyone could he as flashy and sociable as he was, after all. Sanemi and Shinobu both been a bit like that when they’d first met, and sometimes still were. Perhaps as a favor to Kyojuro and perhaps out of a rare moment of empathy, Tengen decided to throw the new guy a bone. “Shinobu promised Mitsuri she’d make her famous brownies. I think you’d better go help her before we’ve got a cat fight on our hands.” It was a low pressure activity, only involved interacting with one other person, but he could still be part of the party. Kyojuro was smiling at him, understanding in an instant what Tengen was trying to do.

“Sounds pretty serious.” Giyu finally responded. Tengen laughed again and left the two of them to pick themselves up.

Kyojuro offered him a hand—the non pierced one—and pulled him up. “I’m sorry.” He said again. He was still smiling but his eyes had become more serious. “That probably didn’t help your battery recharge, did it?” Kyojuro watched his friend carefully for a few moments; often that was the only way to know what he was thinking, since it wasn't like Giyu would say it aloud. Giyu was flushed pink, smiling softly, his gaze averted. Kyojuro smiled a little wider.

“No, actually. It’s okay.” It wasn’t often he could find himself ready for more social interaction without spending at least a few hours in total solitude. But Kyojuro was different. He’d always been different. Patient with his many silences, willing to sit on the bathroom floor with him while he caught his breath from the chaotic festivities downstairs. “Thanks.” Giyu finally finished as Kyojuro opened the door for him. On the way down the stairs, the noise of the party growing louder and more rowdy than ever, Kyojuro put a hand on Giyu’s shoulder, whether to steady him or as an affectionate gesture was a mystery even to Kyojuro himself. He leaned down just a little to murmur in Giyu’s ear.

“See? Told you you’d forgive me.”

[roseykat]

Snippet of my next work:

TITLE: Shutterfly Butterfly

TAGS: sex tapes, porn with plot, oral sex (f!giving and receiving), more tags will likely be added.

SUMMARY: Hyunjin finds an old VHS tape that he lent to Minho once, only to come across an unexpected sex tape that he had left behind. Unfortunately, curiosity gets the best of Hyunjin who decides to accidentally watch it...

NOTE: Since Hyunjin won in the poll I uploaded, here is the snippet!

Why Minho needed a VHS specifically was a mystery to Hyunjin, who never thought to ask any questions about it. Minho has an iPhone, why not just use that? It’s not a clunky device, plus, there’s barely any hassle when it comes to transporting footage? It’s only purpose Hyunjin reckoned it served was to give the videos he took a 2000’s aesthetic feel. 

Supposedly at least.

Hyunjin reaches for the cords, connecting them from the VHS device and into the side of his laptop. Without any warning whatsoever, erotic - pornographic sounds emit from the speakers.

His eyes widen, finger smashing straight down on the spacebar to pause the video. The screen of his laptop is filled to each corner of you - naked, on your knees, with your mouth wrapped around someone’s cock.

That someone was clearly Minho.

“What…the fuck…” Hyunjin breathes out, still unable to thaw out from the icy shock. 

His eyes haven’t left the screen now that his brain has concluded that what he’s watching is the start of a sex tape that two of his friends have made on his recorder. It now made crystal clear sense as to why Minho was so vague with his answer and why he needed the device in the first place. But that still doesn’t defer from what he is seeing. 

Hyunjin doesn’t know how he feels about the fact that his own camera was used in this sort of…activity. But the byproduct of it was in a class of its own. Hyunjin knows that it’s wrong - knows very well at that, yet for some reason, his eyes don’t move, but his finger does and hits the spacebar one more time…

-

A/N: if anyone wants to be on the taglist, message me or comment - either way I’ll see it! x