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odxrilove · 1 year

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BIRTHDAY BOY

PAIRING: mingyu x f!reader

GENRE: fluff, friends to lovers, bday party!au? kinda confession!au, uni!au but not really mentionned

WARNINGS: , flirting, swearing, alchohol, drinking, one mention of being high (not yn or seventeen), etc typical party stuff, game of truth or dare, minghao is annoying x1 (jk), yn gets jealous a bit, yn and mingyu are in love ewwww, huge make-out session (borderline smut...) (JKKK. or am i), lots of tension + more?

WC: +8.1k

SYNOPSIS: It’s Mingyu’s birthday party, and Hoshi lets something out under the influence of alcohol. Apparently, you have two gifts prepared for him– completely throwing out the one-gift tradition your friend group strictly follows. However, Hoshi’s a liar — and a bad one at that — but it’s already too late. Even though Mingyu knows he’s supposed to be excited about all the gifts he’s receiving tonight, he’s (not so surprisingly) only interested in everything you’re giving him.

A/N: thank u so so much to sara the loml pookie bear (@4xiaojun) for reading it so many times over the past few months and hyping me up ! i couldnt have finished this fic if it wasnt for u ily bae !!!! &&& rec song - i dont understand but i luv u by seventeen

FIC TAGLIST: @etherealyoungk @simpforyongbokk @luvhyun3 @nhularin @matchahyuck @graybaeismytae @mark-geolli @esloao @jaklvbub @sukistrawberry @raggedypansexual

back to masterlist !

“Having fun?”

The music is loud, resonating off the walls and making your ears ring. But even if you barely hear your own thoughts over the noise, mingyu’s smooth voice fills your ears.

You change your weight from one foot to another, bringing the red cup to your lips and taking a sip of your drink. The alcohol isn’t cold anymore and you slightly grimace at the way it burns your throat when you decide to empty your cup. You pull the cup away from your mouth, bumping it deliberately against his before crossing your arms and looking up at him.

“Yeah. Even more so now that you’re here.”

His already pretty smile widens and his little vampire teeth appear as he throws his head back to laugh. Your mind is hazy from the alcohol and you’re a bit tipsy, glossy eyes staring at his neck. You always thought mingyu’s skin was so pretty.

Mingyu takes a look around the room before focusing on you again, leaning with his shoulder on the wall next to you. He’s tall and looking down at you, it makes you smile a little.

His heart beats in his chest at the sight of your cherry lips, still wet from the drink. He doesn’t think he’s seen you wearing this lip color before, recounting all the times you came to hangouts wearing anything else than lip balm. The color suits you though, he thinks.

Unconsciously, his eyes wander to your cup before landing on the white plastic rim, the red trace of your lip gloss making him shudder.

The glint in your eyes is mischievous when he makes eye contact with you again. He sees you looking him up and down and he has to yell at his own mind when certain thoughts enter his head. He can sense how you fill up with pride at the sight of him wearing the watch you just gifted him, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

“You’re already wearing it?” your body turns to him a bit and he leans down even more at the same time, faces centimeters away from each other. He lifts his hand up with a grin, pushing his shirt sleeves up his arms even more when he notices you eyeing them.

This time, you smile so big Mingyu almost awes at the sight. You force yourself to stop smiling and look away but your happiness can be heard through your slightly playful voice. “The others wouldn’t be happy to hear that, y’know?”

Mingyu wiggles his fingers and flexes his arm, making you giggle and uncross your arms in the process. “Why wouldn’t I? It’s my favorite gift.”

He tilts his head to the side, ruffling his styled hair with his ring-clad hands. Mingyu isn’t much of a ring-wearer but when he does, it fills your stomach with butterflies– not that that doesn’t happen on a daily basis.

“Who said the others have to know?” His stare makes you feel weak, knees almost buckling under you. You lean back on the wall for support, something he definitely catches up onto with the way he smirks. “Let’s say this is our little secret, yeah?”

You blush when you realize he’s, again, wearing the rings you gifted him months prior for secret santa.

Mingyu turns to lean against the wall with his back, facing the crowd as he lets himself drown into the loud music and the warmth your body radiates, shoulders touching. Your friend crouches down a bit, legs stretching on the ground and head close to your neck. With a sigh, he plops his head on your shoulder, turning to hide against you. He grabs your hips and holds his arm around your waist, audibly whining against your neck.

You nod silently, picking at the rim of your cup. From how close the two of you are, Mingyu can count your lashes, admire your face and the way your lips curl into a smile when you see your friends having fun on the other side of the room.

His breath tickles your skin and you realize mingyu’s just as tipsy as you are.

“You know what Hoshi told me?” he starts off, voice small and softer than usual. You guess he’s a bit tired from partying all night. It’s only a few seconds later that you look at him, smiling and humming when he silently waits for an answer. “He said you had a second gift for me.”

The man, who’s supposed to be 6.1ft tall, seems to shrink even more at your question, pouting and eyebrows furrowing. He glares at you before his eyes turn soft, hugging your body from the side. “You know I didn’t mean it like that~” His voice is slurry and you laugh at him, patting his head and passing your fingers through his hair.

Ah Hoshi, he wouldn’t be himself if he didn’t go around spilling secrets and creating drama. You avert your eyes, suddenly finding the fabric of Mingyu’s shirt very interesting. “Is the watch not enough for you? ‘didn’t know you would be so greedy, gyu.”

You nod again, fixing a few strands of hair on top of his head. “I like your hair like this.”

“Yeah? You think I’m handsome?”

Mingyu abruptly gets up, rolling his shoulders back to stand up straighter. He lets out a mix between a gasp and a chuckle before turning towards a mirror near where you’re leaning against the wall. He passes his hand through his hair, going over the spots you didn't touch and paying extra attention to not mess up the ones you previously styled as he smiles. Suddenly, his tone turns confident as he examines himself in the glass, winking and adjusting the sleeves of his shirt.

You try your best to keep a straight face but the alcohol in your system makes it a difficult task. “Of course, you’re always handsome.”

Mingyu seems to light up at your words, a big smile on his face as he returns to where you are, choosing to lean against the wall on your other side. You know he’s up to something with the way he looks at you but you don’t question it– he’s mainly harmless so you have nothing to worry about.

To Mingyu's surprise, you don’t deny it.

He taps his pointer finger on his chin, pursing his lips and giggling, “Could it be that you’re flirting with me?”

He swears he can see a teasing look in your eyes before it quickly disappears, making him gulp. He can’t even question you about it more before you’re intertwining your fingers together, holding his hand close and walking away from the wall. Mingyu feels like a puppy following his owner, tail wagging and tongue lolling out as he watches you drag him to the other room, discarding your empty cup on a random counter.

With a loud sigh, you plop down next to the armrest, dragging Mingyu down with you, squishing his big body between Hoshi and you. He looks at you and pouts as you let your head fall back on the couch, closing your eyes for a few seconds as the loud music resonates off the walls.

When the two of you enter the living room, you’re not even surprised to see some of your friends gate-keeping the couches, seemingly playing a drinking game. Hoshi is one of the drunker ones and you walk past him to get to the bigger couch, ruffling his hair as he stares with empty eyes at a framed photo hung up on the wall. He’s still out of it so you quickly scratch the underside of his chin with your nails and he perks up, immediately scooting over to give you and Mingyu some space on the couch.

You feel Mingyu’s hand resting on your forearm, slowly dragging up and down as he intensely watches goosebumps rise up on your arm. When Hoshi seems to get dragged into a conversation between Joshua and Seungkwan, voices fill the room and you joyfully listen, letting Mingyu take your hand in his.

His skin feels soft against yours and his thumb draws circles on the back of your hand. You turn towards him, leaning further against the armrest as he smiles at you. He’s cute you think, he’s always been cute.

And then Mingyu brings your intertwined hands up to his mouth, kissing the back of your hand delicately and smiling into the sweet kiss.

His eyes sparkle, the party lights making him shine. His hair is ruffled from the many hugs he received from his friends and his cheeks are rosy from the alcohol.

Suddenly, it feels like you two are the only ones there, like there aren’t dozens of partygoers stumbling around Mingyu’s apartment. It’s weird, how you stare at each other in absolute delight, ignoring everyone around you as if Seungcheol wasn’t calling out both your names for a game of truth or dare.

It’s Mingyu who first snaps out of it, having been elbowed in the ribs by Hoshi next to him. He grumbles in pain but lifts himself off the couch anyways, extending his hand out to you and winking at you. You laugh and place your hand in his, his warmth sending shivers over your spine.

Mingyu hoists you up from the couch and immediately wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you so close to him that your free hand lands on his chest. He tilts his head slightly and comes closer, mouth inches away from your ear.

“I’m happy you came. Thank you.”

Mingyu pulls back with a slight blush on his cheeks, the tip of his ears read. A shy smile covers his lips and for a moment you’re not sure if you’re able to speak. You shallow and find your vocabulary again, thoughts racing in your mind.

When you speak up, eyes locked into his, Mingyu thinks he could pass out from the sugary sweet tone in your voice.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

With a silent nod of his head in the direction of the hallway towards his friends, you put your hand in his again and lead the way, zigzagging between guests.

—

“So, you really made out with that girl during summer camp? There’s no way that’s true.”

Laughter fills the room as you once again find yourself in the living room with Mingyu and his closest friends. At first, you had all followed one of the guys to the kitchen for a game of truth or dare until one of the partygoers threw up right on the stark white kitchen tiles, pausing the game and consequently pushing the group back to the sacred couches.

Jun yells at Dino, hitting the latter on the shoulder and downing his drink. The younger one cackles, teasing Jun more for his confession. “Shut up, dickhead. I’m not saying anything else, just know that she was the one who initiated it.”

His answer doesn’t convince Dino in the slightest and he just continues to laugh, falling backwards on the beanbag he’s currently occupying.

Mingyu’s laugh fills your ears, the joyful sound bringing a smile to your lips. You’re sitting right next to him again, but this time with your back to the armrest, one leg dangling off the couch and the other one blocked under the latter. Your heel digs into the skin of your thigh and unfortunately for you, it’s starting to feel like you have pins and needles in your legs.

You openly wince at the prickly sensation and squirm around, trying to release your hurt leg as you support yourself on the armrest, your feet on the floor slipping. Even with all the laughter and noise in the room– and Hoshi’s sudden barking, Mingyu notices and turns to you with worried eyes. You’re pouting without knowing it and he finds it hard to stare away from your lips, forcing himself to help instead.

What you didn’t expect however, was for him to pull your legs over his, in his lap, after you sat back down. You can feel your face heating up and you’re sure that your ears are full on red at this point. Mingyu knows the effect his action had on you, smirking while pretending like he’s absorbed by the current conversation– or more so an argument between Seungkwan and Dino about who used to have the best math grades in high school.

A gentle hand places itself on the side of your knee, helping you lift your leg as he guides you up with his other hand on your waist, respectfully and only after your nod of affirmation.

The boy continues to act like nothing is going on, seeming calm while his heart beats loudly in his chest. There is so much going on, the music resonating off the walls and friendly banter in the background, but Mingyu’s only focus is on the way your breath hitches when he hoists one of your legs up in his lap. He grabs onto your ankle, near the strap of your high heel and your leg soon joins the other one in his lap.

Mingyu’s being careful with his movements, unsure if he’s crossing a boundary or not– unsure if he just ruined one of his best friendships just because his heart couldn’t keep itself in check. But then you grin, eyes sparkling wide and radiant as you look at his hand on your ankle.

It’s a silent game of back and forth– Mingyu’s looking at you to see your reaction and you avoid his gaze, knowingly, to stare at his pretty hand running up and down your calf. Mingyu knows you would have said something if you disapproved of his action but he’s still feeling like a high school boy with a crush on someone for the first time, worrying about every small thing.

On the other hand, you are glowing, happiness and excitement radiating off you. You feel weird, butterflies erupting in your stomach as if you weren’t already aware of how much Mingyu could affect you– how he could make you fall in love with him over and over again.

Actually, if he thinks about it, he is a boy with a crush on someone– you, just not as a high school boy anymore since he graduated long ago.

You snap out of your little bubble, again, and for once you are grateful for Joshua. Because you’re almost hundred percent sure Mingyu was starting to trace hearts on your thigh. And you certainly didn’t know how much longer you could survive his constant flirting.

When your eyes lock, there’s a look and nod of agreement between you. And then his hand is on your upper thigh, thumb brushing circles on your skin.

“Truth or dare! Yn and Mingyu, you two are playing this round!”

Even with the guys’ screaming in the background, you hold eye contact with him for a little bit longer, just in time to see his eyebrows relax and his gaze soften before you’re diverting your eyes.

“Isn’t truth or dare something you play in middle school?” You tease your friends, trying to lift yourself off the couch to sit up straighter so that other people can join and use the couch. Before you can do so and pull your legs off Mingyu’s lap, he stops you with a hand on your knee, looking at you with furrowed brows.

“Cmon Yn, truth or dare is a classic. Even us oldies have to play it once in a while!” Dino exclaims, unaware of the sudden tension rising from your couch.

A loud slap is heard before Dino winces, turning around to face the culprit as Scoups menacingly points at him, “Ya! Who are you calling old!” They continue to argue for a bit, with Dino calling the oldest, well, old and Scoups pushing the youngest off the beanbag and on the floor.

Normally, you would have paid more attention to it, the friendly banter bringing you much joy, but this time your mind is focused on something else.

If Mingyu tried to talk to you right now, you would barely be able to hear it over the loud music, but he doesn’t talk to you, his gaze tells you enough. “Don’t” is what you understand he’s trying to say and you let out a deep breath. He’s still staring at you, hand still on your knee and his eyes seem to be pleading you to stay.

At that moment, you realize you could probably never say no to Mingyu.

So you set your legs back down in his lap, readjusting your dress so that you don’t flash everybody. When Mingyu realizes you decided to stay, he sends you a big smile, teeth on display. And when he smiles at you like that, you would trade every couch in the damn world to see it a bit longer. You don’t even care anymore about the other party goers who might have wanted to join the game, Mingyu and you clearly taking up the whole couch, with a drunk Dk squished to Mingyu’s right side.

“Hey lovebirds! We said you two are playing, pay attention instead of staring at each other!”

The game in itself isn’t that bothersome– your friends are mainly having fun, bickering and throwing each other under the bus when it comes to revealing not so important secrets. It’s pretty entertaining to watch and you take pleasure in it, but you can’t concentrate fully on Jeonghan’s story about how he saw his high school math teacher and science teacher, both married with kids, making out together in the science lab ten years prior. And all that because of the eyes boring into the side of your head.

You huff when you still feel his eyes on you after Woozi downed his drink, poking Mingyu in the ribs. A quiet yelp leaves his mouth and you smirk, triumphantly, crossing your arms proudly, chin high.

That is until Minghao turns towards you, pinky lifting from his glass and pointing your way. “Yn, truth or dare?”

Your cheeks grow hot, being caught off guard as you sink into the armrest of the couch. You take a moment to think. You know Minghao isn’t the type to completely humiliate you if you decided to choose dare, he’s actually rather laidback with you, but you also remember accidentally spilling his last cup of his favorite tea right on his lap when you all went to visit his new apartment a week prior. And since Minghao’s pretty protective of his tea, you’d prefer to avoid walking right into the cage of a wild and unpredictable animal.

And as the red-haired boy looks at you, waiting for your answer with a slight smirk on his face, you’re sure you made the right choice.

“Truth. I don’t want to leave this place covered in a mix of glitter and cereal or something.”

Truth it is. And could Truth possibly do even any harm?

Minghao hums, taking a last sip of his drink before finally speaking up. “Wise choice. Or not. Yn, of all the people in this room, who’s the guy you’re crushing on?”

Okay, so apparently Truth can do a lot of harm.

Your eyes widen, your mouth falling open in sock as everyone turns to look at you, some whispering between themselves and some even giggling.

You definitely did not think this through enough.

Mighao tilts his head a bit and you don’t waste a second more before you’re reaching forward to grab your shot glass off the table, “Pass”. In your haste, you forget that you’re basically sitting sideways on the couch and that you don’t have any support under you as you move your upper body off the couch, eventually losing balance and falling forward.

But before you can hit the coffee table with full force, an arm snakes around your waist, holding you up and bringing you back on the couch. Mingyu’s hand is holding onto your hip firmly, his fingers dipping into the fabric of your dress.

There’s a sudden silence as your friends look from you to Mingyu, then back to you. You turn your head towards your ‘savior’ and directly make eye-contact, the close position and the strong scent of his cologne making you dizzy.

Your face heats up, again, and you quickly grab your glass from the table, downing it and returning to your seat, hands clasped tightly together. Minghao eyes the now empty shot glass and chuckles, “Hiding something?”

You glare at him, “It’s one question only, Minghao.” You forgot sometimes how infuriatingly teasing he can be.

The next round of truth and dare goes more smoothly, nobody’s falling to the ground and there are no questions regarding anyone’s love life– if you don’t take into account Joshua asking Hoshi if his sister is still single.

You don’t know how much time passes but you feel at ease on the black couch, leaning the side of your head against the backrest as you continue to enjoy the nice and friendly atmosphere. The guys have now changed to another game in a smaller group, while the others thought it was a good idea to start playing Mario Kart.

The music changes to a slower genre when the clock hits 2am and you decide that maybe it’s time to get another drink, the alcohol leaving your system a bit too soon for your liking.

With a sudden boost of energy, you swing your legs off Mingyu’s lap and stand up, kneeling down to stack the empty shot glasses and bring them with you to the kitchen. While you’re doing so, you feel a tug at the bottom of your dress. Mingyu pulls the hem of your dress down as you lean over and he makes sure no one can sneak a glance under your short outfit.

You turn to him with difficulty, the stacked shot glasses in your hands and your heels almost knocking over a plastic cup on the ground. Mingyu looks up at you, hair brushed back and arm resting on the back of the couch. He waits for you to speak and you smile softly. “Want a drink?”

The corners of his mouth turn up and he gets up from the couch, taking the shot glasses from your hands. “I’ll go with you, if that’s ok.”

You nod, and almost notice the faint blush on Mingyu’s cheek, “Of course.”

The music is still playing through the heavy speakers in each corner of the room, the lights of the TV casts a colorful glow over Mingyu’s living room and the chatter of every party goer doesn’t go unnoticed as you two make your way out of the room, stepping over the many empty cups on the wooden floor and into the less crowded hallway.

There aren’t really a lot of people in the hallway, but most of them are walking from one room to another, making it a hassle to peacefully cross the hallway without bumping into someone. It’s loud and the people occupying the little space aren’t exactly making it easy to enter the kitchen.

Mingyu sees the mess before you do, taking all the shot glasses in one hand and grabbing your hand with the other. His back is creating a wall between you and the ‘danger’ in the hallway, and before you know it, Mingyu’s pushing forward, bumping into drunk party goers to make it through. He quickly creates a path, one that is safe to take as he pushes away the cups and beer bottles on the ground away and to the side, craning his arm so that you’re close to his back and following him.

When a very drunk– and probably high, guy stumbles out of a random room and directly into Mingyu’s shoulder, the shot glasses nearly fall to the floor, earning a panicked gasp from the owner. The guy doesn’t even bother to say sorry, looking past the both of you with a dead gaze as he tumbles forward, weak legs bringing him to the living room.

You whip your head around, smelling the awful stench coming from the guy and bring your hand up to cover your mouth. When he’s out of sight, you sneak one last glance to where he disappeared off to and tsks. “Asshole.”

Mingyu’s laugh brings your eyes back to him, puzzled. He just squeezes your hand, sending you a smile over his shoulder.

As you two finally arrive at your destination, the kitchen, your eyes widen in horror. It seems that there are even more people in the small kitchen than in the living room, which is already crowded enough. There’s not even enough space to navigate properly, people choosing to squeeze themselves between other people to get to the exit, spilling bits of their newly-filled drink. You hear Mingyu sigh– the cleanup the morning after is gonna be a tough one.

“Hey, why don’t you wait for me here? I’ll go in alone and come back with the drinks.” Mingyu turns to you, the shot glasses carefully leaning against his chest.

Mingyu watches as you glance around the hallway and then around him, into the kitchen. You bite your lip, showing you’re becoming a bit anxious and he furrows his eyebrows. His smile quickly falters, showing concern right away. “You okay?”

You look up at him as he turns fully towards you, almost blocking the doorway to the kitchen. You pass your hands over your dress, flattening out the non-existent wrinkles. “Yeah, it’s just starting to feel a bit too stuffy in here..”

Mingyu hums, raising his head to look at the end of the hallway, where the door to the balcony is situated. When he returns his gaze to you, he tilts his head cutely, licking his lips. “You wanna wait by the balcony? I told the guests not to go on there too much so that i won’t get a noise complaint from the neighbors. I think it’s safe if you go there.”

With a smile, you nod at Mingyu, “yeah, that would be great. Thanks.” You place one of your hands on the wall next to the kitchen before leaning in so he hears you better over the music. “Don’t die in there by the way! We haven’t even gone to Iceland yet like we planned to years ago– it would be a waste for you to miss out on our extravagant bucket list, right?”

Mingyu’s laugh fills your ears, the sound making you smile from ear to ear. “C’mon, who do you take me for? Seok– Oh sorry.” Mingyu cuts himself off, lifting his two hands in the air with one still holding all the shot glasses. The girl, who just bumped into Mingyu, and who you recognize as one of your classmates from your major, pushes her hair behind her ear, blushing at your friend.

Before she leaves, she mumbles a few words, but the music is way too loud for you to make out what it was, and then she’s gone.

You don’t pay too much attention to it, as does Mingyu, who’s already back to look at you. It’s not the first and certainly not the last time someone is going to bump into one of you two at his party.

“Sorry, what were you saying?” You turn back to Mingyu, crossing your arms and making the silver necklace you’re currently wearing shine even more under the flashy led lights.

“Ah, sweetheart, you never listen do you?” Mingyu brings his free hand up to your jaw, tapping on the underside of your chin with his index finger. “I said, you need to stop biting your lips when you’re nervous. They’re too pretty for that.”

You can’t speak, your entire vocabulary having left your body. His hand then turns to cup the underside of your jaw, his thump grazing over your bottom lip, ultimately smudging a bit of your lipgloss. Your mouth falls open a bit at the shock but he doesn’t stop. “A pretty color.. for pretty lips. Suiting.” His thumb sweeps one last time over your lip before he retreats into the kitchen.

“Wait for me by the balcony, I'll grab our drinks for us.”

—

The temperature outside is completely different from the stuffy warmth inside the small apartment, the cold breeze making you shiver. You’re not a fan of the winter, or the cold in general, but when it’s almost 3am and your cheeks are red from being around Mingyu, the weather is probably the only thing keeping you sane.

You think it’s captivating outside– how the moon shines and provides you enough light, how the silence from nature and the muffled sounds from the party mix together, how the wind blows your hair around and makes you tremble. You like it all.

There’s a calming atmosphere around it. You don’t feel as edgy as before and you mentally thank Mingyu for allowing you to use his sacred space for your own benefit.

If you truly think about it, you had come to the party with no real intentions, but as the night goes by, you find yourself yearning for more.

You find yourself yearning for Mingyu. You suppose it’s not entirely a bad thing– it’s also not the first time.

You’re leaning over the balcony railing, looking down to the street at the foot of his apartment building. The concrete tiles are darker than usual, and wet– you were too absorbed by the party to even notice it was raining outside. The water droplets on the railing are cold against the skin of your forearms but you just clench your jaw through it. In a way, it wakes you up.

Your eyes are closed as you hum to the melodies of the pop song playing inside, chin propped up on your palm. You don’t know how long you rest your eyes, but you missed Mingyu’s voice when he opens the door to the balcony, stepping out of the apartment and smiling your way.

“Sleepy?” You just tilt your head, eyes still closed. You do turn towards him as you feel his presence behind you.

You realize Mingyu always smiles when he’s looking at you and butterflies race in your stomach.

Your hands are on the slippery metal railing as you lean back against it, the water droplets staining the lower back of your dress. It’s cold against your skin and you shiver, suddenly, and Mingyu notices, immediately stepping closer to you.

“Just a bit out of energy.”

Mingyu closes the balcony door behind him, swiftly setting down the two newly-filled plastic cups on a wobbly garden table in the corner and joining you. He stands in front of you, hands in his pockets and smirking down at you. You gulp, feeling like his prey.

“Why’s that?” His tone doesn’t show an ounce of concern. Probably because he knows he has nothing to worry about.

You’re not a jealous person, truly. You’re relatively confident when it comes to your relationships and friendships and have never deemed it necessary to throw a tantrum about your partner and who he talks to. To be fair, your last relationship was quite a while ago, but you still stand by your own beliefs.

So, feeling a tiny bit of jealousy creep up when your classmate– the one who had previously bumped into Mingyu– walked up to him in the kitchen and laid her perfectly manicured hand on his bicep was an entirely new thing for you.

You had even questioned yourself if you had the right to be jealous. You and Mingyu weren’t even together!

The fact that you could watch what was happening right from your spot on the balcony didn’t help you either– your curious self being unable to stop watching while your mind was telling you to think about happy moments– aka moments where Mingyu showed he was definitely more interested in you than in the party or your classmate.

So even though the little angel on your shoulder tried to avert your eyes from the crime scene, the manipulation play from the little devil on your other shoulder was a bit too convincing for your liking. In conclusion, you found yourself staring at the entire event.

Frankly, nothing happened. On Mingyu’s part at least. The girl however, let’s say she was just trying to get to know him (a lie you’re definitely not telling yourself to keep calm).

Honestly, you weren’t paying much attention at first. It’s Mingyu’s birthday party, of course people will go up to him and congratulate him. But when the girl– you honestly don’t even remember her name– leaned towards him and put her hand on his chest, on the same spot where your hand had been moments prior, you knew this was more than a simple “happy birthday!”.

Was it foul to only remember the way Mingyu’s smile seemed fake, the way he slowly backed away from her presence, and the way he rushed back to you? If it was, you couldn’t care less.

The two drinks he brought back were still sitting on the old table, untouched as if forgotten.

Mingyu’s a bit too close for your liking. You can probably start counting his lashes– or the sparkles in his eyes. But when you open your mouth to joke, so that the tension could leave your body, Mingyu interrupts you and gets even closer.

His tone is serious but you know he’s enjoying this, the corner of his mouth tilting up. “Were you jealous?”

You hate how good Mingyu knows you, and you hate the effect he currently has on you, even though you would normally bathe in it.

You know he knows, so there’s really no need to lie. Even more so when one of the reasons why he rushed back to you was because your eyes met when he was getting your drinks, and he saw you biting your lip. And you know now he doesn’t like it when you do that.

You lean back against the railing even more, the metal digging into your skin as your heart starts to speed up. Your sudden shyness doesn’t waver his interest in the slightest and he only takes a step forward, backing you up against the railing.

“What are you going to do if I say I was?”

At that, Mingyu chuckles, looking to the side before hanging his head down. When he looks at you again, his hand finds its way to your cheek and he carefully brushes over the blush adorning your skin.

The only thing you hear is a small ‘cute’ uttered under his breath before he retracts his hand and puts both of them on the railing behind you, trapping you between him and the end of the balcony.

Mingyu caught you, literally, and there’s not much you can do to stop him from getting what he wants. So you opt the easy way out, speaking the truth. “I was jealous, yeah. For the first time ever actually.”

His smile grows even wider. “Do you love me that much, darling?”

You don’t give him an answer this time, because you know he’s not really waiting for one. He knows and that’s enough for him, now. He also doesn’t really have the correct mindset to play this game with you at his party. The few glasses of alcohol you both took earlier are probably a bit at fault too.

You clear your throat and he speaks up again, voice a bit rougher than earlier. “I guess Hoshi didn’t lie when he told me you liked me that much that you would have prepared two gifts for me.”

“You know Hoshi almost always lies.” You let go of the railing, hands finding their way to Mingyu’s waist, fiddling with his leather belt.

You hear him inhale sharply, looking up to the sky for a short moment before focusing on you again, and definitely not on your hands.

To fight back against the aggressive butterflies causing havoc in his stomach, Mingyu pulls you towards him, one hand on your lower back and the other one squeezing the fat at your hip. He’s in total control, and he’s confident about it too– you couldn’t even blame him for it.

“Oh, almost always? So he’s not lying this time?” Mingyu leans down again, faces inches away from each other, to the point where you could just close the distance between the two of you with a small movement of the head. “Because I do think there’s some truth to it, sweetheart.”

Your hair swings in the wind, and even though it’s cold, you want to stay with Mingyu as long as possible. His body feels warm under your fingertips and you almost gasp when he pushes you against the railing, his hand protecting your lower back from digging into the cold, wet metal.

A short silence fills the air and you don’t know what to do except look away, your face growing hotter and hotter with every minute. Mingyu doesn’t talk either, too busy staring down at you. He makes a mental list in his head of all the things he loves about you, adoring you with his eyes while the music inside resonates from the glass door.

You look away because you can feel him stare, and you wouldn’t know how to react if you were to make eye contact, since the effect Mingyu has on you is continuously making your knees buckle under you.

“Were you interested?”, you suddenly ask, voice much quieter than before. It takes Mingyu a few seconds to realize what you’re talking about when you don’t meet his eyes, deciding to rather look at his shoes instead.

He thought he had made it clear– clearer than anything else– but he didn’t expect you to suddenly shy away while in his arms and close to his chest, all because some girl tried to flirt with him. Deep down, you know he isn’t (if he was, he wouldn’t be with you right now, risking at least a three day-long fever) but you want him to say it.

Mingyu just tilts his head a bit, a soft smile on his face as he tries to show you you have nothing to worry about. “Not in her, no.”

This time you smile back, a quiet ‘good’ falling off your lips as you place your hands on his forearms, palming his muscles through the sleeves. “Just wanted to make sure, y’know.”

He knows.

Now it’s his turn to ask questions though.

“Why didn’t you say anything during Truth or Dare?” The question comes off strong, completely out of nowhere and causing your eyes to widen in shock. You weren’t expecting him to mention the game and how much you had embarrassed yourself.

You’re quick to answer though, in all honesty. “Because the others didn’t have to know.”

Mingyu smirks, liking the way your face heats up whenever he does or says something. He feels like your eyes can’t take him in wholly, going from one part to another frantically as they slide over his upper body. “And can I?”

Your eyebrows furrow after his teasing tone makes an appearance again and he has to stop himself from letting out a chuckle. You’re almost pouting too, lower lip jutting out and unintentionally showing off your pretty lipgloss. You cross your arms, nails digging in your own forearms as the cold suddenly takes over you again. “I think it’s pretty obvious, don’t you think?”

A beat of silence, and then, “I want you to say it.”

He’s begging for it, pleading eyes boring into yours. His voice sounds somewhat more whiny as he starts to rub your sleeveless arms, making the goosebumps disappear. It’s not the first time you’ve seen Mingyu use his puppy eyes, he usually brings them out when someone teases him or when he needs something, and today, it’s the latter.

Once again, you find yourself unable to refuse Mingyu anything.

“I should have said your name when Minghao asked.”

Then he’s smiling again, happy you finally (kinda) admitted what you two should have confessed months earlier. He didn’t think you would give in so quickly, making him beam in excitement. His eyes are full of joy and his cheeks are rosy– you like to think it’s because of what you said, but the alcohol could still be playing a part in it.

You didn’t even feel tipsy anymore, no blurred vision or imperfect balance. It’s the first time you’ve sobered up so quickly, and you entirely thank Mingyu for it.

You truly don’t know how much time passed since you stepped foot onto the balcony, the cold weather dragging every minute out but Mingyu’s presence speeding everything up. The music seemed to have calmed down a lot since the beginning of the night, and when you glance around Mingyu and into the apartment, you notice you can actually now make out the furniture and picture frames in the hallway. The kitchen and hallway are mainly empty but you can still hear chatter and laughter coming from the living room, concluding the rest of the guests are probably scattered all over the couches.

When your thoughts are all over the place, a slight pinch at your hip wakes you up, bringing you back to reality– on the balcony, and still in Mingyu’s arms. He chuckles, smoothing down your dress where he pinched you, rubbing over the now sore spot as you slowly wince.

He looks behind him, into his apartment, where you were previously staring at and comes to the same conclusion as you.

You’re all alone, with no one around.

That thought alone makes him gulp. Fuck, was he always this nervous around girls?

It’s a silly question, because he knows he’s only ever that nervous when it comes to you.

He’s nervous, but he still craves for more so he focuses on you again. On your pretty eyes and how much they glisten in the moonlight. On your soft hair and how perfectly his hand fits in the nape of your neck, playing with a few strands. On your pretty lips and how he wishes he could just kiss away the lipgloss, so that you’d have to apply it again and he could then mess it up again.

Mingyu needs you now, and if that means speaking without a filter, then so be it– a sacrifice he’s more than willing to give.

“Are you going to kiss me now?”

You giggle and he feels dumb. But then you smile so deeply that he falls in love all over again. And he thinks you’re with no doubt the most beautiful soul he’s ever met.

Your hands start to travel back up from his forearms to his biceps, before landing on his shoulders, where they squeeze his muscles, the tension in them all too familiar. You eye him, entirely this time, taking your time to appreciate every single part of him.

You stare a bit too long at his neck and Mingyu blushes, unaware of how he’s supposed to react to this sudden onslaught of attention. Your hands move up to his jaw, holding his face close to yours as you stroke both his cheeks.

You truly have him twisted around your finger.

“Do you want me to?” It's an unnecessary question, but you want him to say it– just like Mingyu wanted you to before. Mingyu thinks he’s on the verge of collapsing, the only thing still keeping him upright are your hands on him and his on your waist and the railing.

He’s desperate as he catches both of your wrists and kisses them each, before bringing your right arm up to wrap around his neck. He’s slow but determined and it sends shivers down your spine. Your nails scratch against the nape of his neck and he groans, clearly affected by it– by you.

“Please, Yn.”

Your left arm soon joins the other one around his neck and Mingyu has to mentally restrain himself from rushing whatever good is supposed to happen. When both your arms are loosely hanging around his neck, your bodies are closer than ever, chests pressed against each other, warmth engulfing you entirely.

Your sweet voice is the last thing he hears before his mind circuits. “Guess it’s time for your second gift then.”

And then you’re standing on your tip-toes, closing the small distance between you two and finally, finally stopping the seemingly endless torture.

Your lips smash against his and it’s so aggressive because you can’t control yourself anymore. His lips feel soft and delicate against yours and you think you might end up breaking them– you wish you would.

Mingyu holds a strong grip onto your waist, his arm circling around it to make sure you don’t shy away again. His other hand is on the side of your neck, holding onto your face as he pushes you against the balcony railing.

One of the first things he notices is your raspberry flavored lip gloss– which he swears he knows he will never get enough of– and the slight hint of alcohol on your lips. It’s enamoring, enticing and everything he’s ever wanted.

You run out of breath quickly but you don’t stop, you refuse to, physically unable to separate yourself from him. It’s Mingyu who backs away first, leaving you desperate for more, chasing after his lips. You gasp for air, head spinning at the utterly new but heavenly feeling while Mingyu attacks your neck, jaw, and everything that could make your eyes roll back.

Your hands are gripping onto his shirt, nails clawing at his back as Mingyu takes pleasure in pressing kisses onto your skin, going from your neck down to your cleavage and stopping when his chin grazes the fabric of your dress.

Mingyu groans when you pull at his hair, biting and sucking at your neck before planting a last kiss on your collarbone, quickly coming back up to your lips. He swears he can’t live anymore without kissing you.

You drag Mingyu closer to you by the collar of his shirt, and then he’s kissing you again. His lips were determined and unrelenting, not letting go of you. He was addicted, goosebumps taking over his body as he bit down on your lower lip. You whined at the metal taste in your mouth, craning your neck for more.

Mingyu chuckled against your lips, kissing them slowly before sliding his tongue against your lower lip to soothe the bite. He’s barely leaving you alive, completely breathless but still– always– aching for more.

His mouth was devouring you and you just couldn’t get enough– both of you, too absorbed in your own little bubble to even notice the weather was becoming gradually worse, rain falling out of the sky in a downpour.

His tongue slid against your lips, again, before entering your mouth. Your hands holding onto Mingyu’s shoulders weren’t enough to get you anchored, legs trembling as he held onto your waist, muscles flexing.

Mingyu’s warmth surrounded you completely, to the point where you felt like you couldn't breathe properly. Mingyu had taken full control over you, as your mind was a total mess, and you were just able to follow his movements and beg for more.

You gripped onto his bicep as you arched your back, the rain drenching both of you to the core– not that you really cared anyway, the way Mingyu’s tongue fought with yours was what truly mattered.

You were ruined– completely and devastatingly ruined for everyone who wasn’t Mingyu.

Then he eventually parted from you, pressing one sweet kiss to your mouth and you almost teared up when you felt him smile against your lips.

Mingyu was beautiful, soaking wet hair sticking to his forehead, cheeks and the tip of his ears spark red and his lips swollen, red and plump from kissing you. His chest is heaving as you stare up at him, not caring in the slightest about the rain messing up your makeup and outfit.

His hands slowly lift up to your face, holding it so softly your heart skips a beat. His thumb sweeps over your cheekbone and he leans towards you, nuzzling your nose with his.

Mingyu’s eyes literally shine and your lips part in awe.

You stare too much but Mingyu doesn’t force you to look away, because he’s sure he’s staring just as much.

It’s only when you lean back into his arms that Mingyu notices the lingering taste of raspberry on his lips. He grins and he hopes that your lip color stained his lips, so that when you go back inside, your friends know that you’re his now– not that they weren’t aware before.

And when you lift your head to look at him, arms circled around his waist, your smudged lipgloss is enough to make him want more.

“Happy fucking birthday to me.”

general taglist: @0x1lovebot @fairybinie @blaqpinksthetic @odetoyeonjun @pockyandme @soobin-chois @lolalee24 @soobisms @junityy @kaimal @laylasbunbunny @jaeyunverse @enhacolor @honglynights @starry-mins @bibinnieposts @yoonzin0 @raevyng @hoeforcheol @pearlygraysky @4xiaojun @xomingyu

please do not copy, repost or steal any of my work. all content belongs to @odxrilove

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stllmnstr · 2 months

Text

sacred monsters [teaser!]

pairing: lee heeseung x f reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, vampire au, slow burn

teaser word count: 1.7k

teaser warnings: swearing

release date: saturday, august 3, 10 PM EST

soundtrack: still monster / moonstruck / lucifer - enhypen / everybody wants to rule the world - tears for fears / immortal - marina / supermassive black hole - muse / saturn - sleeping at last / everybody’s watching me (uh oh) - the neighbourhood

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

A literature student in your third year of university, you’ve been dreaming of having your writing published for as long as you can remember. With a perfect opportunity dangling at your fingertips, the only obstacle that stands in your way comes in the form of a ridiculously tall, stupidly handsome, and unfortunately, very talented writer by the name of Lee Heeseung. Unwilling to let your dream slip out of reach, you commit to being better than the aforementioned pain in your ass at absolutely everything.

But when a string of vampire attacks strikes close to your city for the first time in nearly two hundred years, publishing is suddenly the last thing on your mind. And, as you soon begin to discover, Heeseung may not quite be the person you thought he was.

note: this fic is my BABYYY so I really hope it’s well received and you all have a good time with it. it’s probably no surprise that still monster is one of my absolute favorite enha songs, and this story is essentially (my interpretation of) it in written form. this is going to be a multi-part story, and as of right now, the first part is almost ready to share. for now, enjoy this snippet!

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Crossing a dark line through the word you just penned, you sigh.

This is the fastest you’ve put a story together in ages. It’s cohesive, and the writing is solid. Your use of metaphor is strong and concise, and the prose feels true to your identity as a writer.

But something in you withers a bit with every new word you commit to paper. It’s not that you hate your topic. If anything, it’s just that you have no stake in it at all. It doesn't feel innovative or exciting or representative of your creativity.

No matter how easily the words flow out of you, something about it just feels… flat. One dimensional.

You need something new. A different angle or an alternative perspective or… Or a fresh set of eyes.

Struck with a sudden idea, you pull out your phone, plan taking form in your mind. The literature club at your university hosts bimonthly peer review sessions, and you haven’t taken advantage of them nearly as much as you should. They’re a chance for any writer, literature major or otherwise, to come together and workshop any piece of writing of their choice.

Tapping your finger impatiently on the table, you wait for the page to load. The fall semester did end almost a week ago, so it may be a long shot. You’re not sure if the club typically holds sessions over winter break. But as you pull up the club’s calendar of events, a small smile tugs at your lips.

Luck seems to be on your side this time. It’s written there in plain, bold font that there will be a session this upcoming Friday evening. That means that if you attend the session and get some solid ideas for revision, you’ll have exactly five days to refine your draft before you present it to Professor Kim.

The idea of having not only a topic, as the schedule outlined, but an actual complete, well-written draft to show him next Wednesday, turns your small smile into one that overtakes your features.

Energized with a new vigor, you reach for your pen again. It doesn’t have to be perfect, you remind yourself, even as a turn of phrase makes you cringe. Even as a piece of punctuation feels out of place. It just needs to be written. You just need to have as much content as you can to share on Friday.

Besides, you’re sure that a second opinion will help you fine tune this story into something you’re proud to share, something you’re excited to attach your name to.

The afternoon is quick to blur into early evening, and you’re still bent over your favorite corner table. Coffee long drained, you’re full of a new confidence. The thought of proving yourself suddenly doesn’t seem like such an unachievable, out of reach task.

And when you do finally gather up all of your belongings and make your way back to your apartment for the night, you’re sure that this is the exact boost you needed.

That same stroke of self-assuredness carries you all the way through a finished first draft. It’s rough and messy and littered with loose ends, but it’s tucked away in the bottom of your tote bag with a smile as you haul it to classroom number 105 in the university liberal arts building Friday evening.

You pause at the door to the classroom, only for a moment. The inhale you breathe in is deep, full. Nodding to yourself once, you push open the door.

You haven’t been to one of these workshop sessions since the second semester of your first year, back when you had just switched to a literature major. You remember being wide-eyed and incredibly protective over your work. It was hard to part with it, to let anyone else read over the sentences you were so unsure of. The writing you had little confidence in.

But your partner had been kind. Another girl in her first year, she had nothing but gentle feedback to give and reassurance that your writing was worth reading. Honestly, it was such an overwhelmingly positive experience that you would have come back for more sessions if you weren’t constantly struggling to find minutes to spare in the day.

You’re hoping that tonight will be just as rewarding as you enter the classroom, tote bag in tow. But as you survey the space around you, your face falls flat, easy going smile dropping from your lips.

You weren’t expecting a big crowd, considering that it is winter break and most students are deliberately avoiding campus right now, but you were hoping there’d be more than one other person in attendance.

Well, you think, deciding to look on the bright side of things. At least you’re not the only person.

The other attendee is sitting in the far corner of the room, occupying a desk near the front of the classroom. At the sound of your entrance, they turn to face you.

With that, your small disappointment is quick to snowball into an intense wave of exasperation. Because why is the universe so hellbent on playing games with you?

Your mouth drops open without your permission. “Heeseung?”

Your sudden outburst fills the room and lingers long into the awkward silence that follows. You hadn’t meant to say anything, but really, what are the god forsaken odds?

If he’s bothered by your reaction to seeing him, Heeseung doesn’t show it. Instead he looks strangely… relieved. It makes absolutely no sense for him to feel any sort of relief at the sight of you, but it’s hard to put a more apt descriptor to the way tension drains from his shoulders, crease between his brows softening as he looks at you, scans you from head to toe.

A moment of stilted silence passes between the two of you. Another. Your heartbeat feels too loud in your chest.

You exhale, a cross between a scoff and a laugh so humorless it could freeze a flame. Weighing your options, the most tempting by far is to just turn on your heel and exit the way you came.

Heesung seems to read your intention before you can commit to it.

Breaking the heaviness in the atmosphere, he acts as if you’ve greeted him like an old friend, not as the source of all your recent headaches.

“Hi,” he nods, so tentatively you almost want to let your jaw drop open in shock. Almost.

Because what the fuck does he mean by ‘Hi?’ This has to be some kind of mind game, some way to get in your head and ruin this for you.

“Right.” Your lips pull into a tight line. You don’t bother to return his greeting. “I’m just gonna go, then.” Hiking up your bag on your shoulder, you turn to do just that. Your first draft will just have to be unpolished. Oh, well. You’re sure Professor Kim will have better feedback for you than Lee Heeseung ever would anyway.

Once again, Heeseung’s voice cuts across the classroom. “Wait.” There’s a command in his voice. Gentle, but firm. Insistent. So pervasive that you find yourself following without really meaning to.

Mind made up and dead set on leaving, now you’re just annoyed. What a waste of a Friday evening.

“What?” You turn back to him. You’re not sure if there’s more venom in your voice or your eyes.

And Heeseung, who commands a classroom with quiet grace, with his steady, unwavering presence, suddenly looks so damn unsure. As if tormenting you is uncharted territory. As if he’s never once left you in the cold with flaming cheeks and a thoroughly shattered ego.

“I…” he trails off, not quite meeting your furious gaze. “Didn’t you come here to get feedback?”

“Right.” You scoff again. “Because I’m sure you’d love nothing more than to tear my writing to shreds. Forgive me, but I’m not interested in being the butt end of your joke tonight.”

“What?” If you didn’t know any better, the ignorance he feigns would be rather convincing. “That’s not why I’m here.” He shakes his head. “I brought something I want reviewed too.”

Your brow arches. He can’t be serious. “Even if I did stay,” you counter, “you’re actually the last person I would want to read my work. Feel free to be offended by that, by the way.”

For a solid minute, Heeseung just looks at you. He wears that same damn deer-in-the-headlights expression he had after you brushed him off when he intercepted you in class the other day. He pauses, weighing words on his tongue. “Look, ____.” The sound of your name on his lips strikes a strange chord in you. Until now, you were certain he didn’t even know it. “Did I do something to offend—”

And no. Absolutely not. No way are you rehashing that day in the quad with him now.

“You know what,” you interrupt. You need to go. Now. You need an out. “I’m actually, like, super tired. I think I’m just gonna head back, and—”

But then it’s his turn to cut off your train of thought. “It’s your piece for Professor Kim, isn’t it?” Heeseung takes your silence as confirmation. “Publishing is a big deal. A second set of eyes will only make your work stronger. And if you hate my feedback, it’s not like you have to use any of it.”

You hate it. You despise the way his reasoning matches your internal monologue nearly word for word. The way your thoughts align exactly.

You pause, a decision weighing heavy on your mind. He is an excellent writer… There would probably be substance to his feedback. Real, actual, good substance that you could use to make your writing bloom into something truly amazing. He could be the exact spark you need to make your story come to life.

You purse your lips. “What’s in it for you?”

Heesung smiles, a nearly imperceptible quirk of his lips. He knows he’s won. “Like I said, I brought something I’ve been working on.” There’s an intention you can’t quite read behind his gaze when he adds, “I want to know what you think of it.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

With a grumble, you take reluctant steps towards where he sits on the opposite side of the classroom. And if you slide down into the seat next to him with a little more force than necessary, well, it’s just because you’ve had a long week. No other reason. None at all.

“Fine,” you relent, reaching to pull your notebook out of your bag. “You get twenty minutes.”

“That’s not nearly long eno—”

“Thirty,” you concede. “And don’t push it.”

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TO BE CONTINUED...

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note: thanks for checking out this little snippet! I can't wait to share the full first part soon. this one is going to be so much fun I'm buzzing already. I don't have a tag list, but I will most likely update this post and reblog it once I have a confirmed release date. like I said in the note at the beginning, I'm anticipating it will be ready to go by this sunday (august 4 EST) at the latest. woo!

#heeseung fanfic #heeseung x reader #heeseung x you #enhypen fanfic #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #heeseung imagines #heeseung fanfiction #enhypen scenarios #heeseung scenarios

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ninibeingdelulu · 3 months

Text

Three times he realized he love you ft. michael kaiser

a/n: reader’s noel noa little sis, and not everything is accurate to the plot. Chat, should I write more of this ?

the first time

It was during one of the Blue Lock training sessions when Michael first felt that telltale flutter in his chest around you.

You'd come by to visit Noel, sneaking in snacks for him like the doting little sister you were.

But when you waved hello to the rest of the players, Michael was caught off guard by how bright your smile was directed at him.

Just a simple friendly greeting, but he felt his heart kick up a few beats faster.

As the training drills ramped up in intensity, he kept stealing glances over at you cheering on the sidelines. The way your eyes sparkled with excitement, how you clapped so animatedly at every good play.

He couldn't help but start showing off a bit more, putting some extra flair into his dribbling and shooting just to try and impress you.

And each time you whooped and hollered for him, that fluttering feeling grew harder to ignore.

By the end of practice, Michael knew he was in dangerous territory...yet he couldn't wait for the next chance to see you again.

the second time

There was a team bonding night out at the local arcade, a rare chance to blow off some steam outside Blue Lock's rigorous confines.

Michael, usually so focused, found his attention divided between his mates battling it out over videogames...and you.

You'd tagged along again and were currently immersed in an intense dancing game session, moving with impressive rhythm and vigor.

He got caught up watching the way your body swayed, how those slender hips rolled and your expression scrunched up in adorable concentration with each new flurry of moves.

The next thing Michael knew, one of the guys was laughing and nudging him - he'd become so entranced watching you dance that he'd completely zoned out from their com-bat game.

Cheeks flushing, he tried to play it off...but couldn't dislodge that image of you moving with such unrestrained passion and zest from his whirlwind mind the rest of the night.

the third time

The final piece slotted into place thanks to an unexpectedly tender moment interrupted.

Noel had fallen ill, so you'd brought him some homemade soup to help nurse him back to health.

Of course, your perpetually hungry older brother devoured it within minutes while you fussed over him sweetly. But then you scooped up another spoonful and turned to Michael with that radiant smile again.

"Open up, you big lug. I want you to taste it, plus I cooked too much for my dummy brother."

You cooed it so easily, not even thinking twice about doting on him too with that same sisterly affection.

As Michael obediently parted his lips and tasted that rich, nourishing broth from your hands, he was suddenly overwhelmed with a protective instinct fiercer than anything he'd experienced on the pitch.

In that simple act of caring, Michael realized how lucky he was that your generosity and tender warmth had been bestowed upon his chaotic life too.

Not just as Noel's little sis, but as his own...he wanted to keep being on the receiving end of your special brand of unconditional love in whatever capacity you'd allow.

A burning need to cherish and look after you in turn blazed to life inside him.

As you happily continued fussing between the two most important guys in your life, Michael knew then he was utterly, completely, and hopelessly enamored with you in the deepest way possible. His soulmate, his future, his empress...his everything.

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owliellder · 1 year

Text

Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: Forgiveness is requested but not expected. Downhill we go!!

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 3:

Over time, you grew less and less worried with Leon’s nice behavior. Your math grade has gone up significantly, surpassing a low C which is a passing grade, but since the tutor sessions have become much more bearable, you haven’t felt the need to stop going. Besides, you have an A streak to fulfill.

Your friends stayed suspicious about the frat boy’s intentions, however. The way you’d become so unbothered with everything relating to him had them stressed, yet at the end of the day, “no asshole can hold up a facade like that for this long”, as per Sky’s words.

Easygoing is the best way to describe Leon at this point. A gentle soul, from what you can tell. He goes out of his way to hold the door for you, share his food with you whenever he brings it, and he even gets excited with you whenever you get an A on any of your assignments or tests. It makes you happy that you held out for him.

“And that makes sense to you?” Leon was standing next to you, leaned over with both his hands on the table. You were both in the study room, only this time you had finished everything math related. Thanksgiving break had come and gone so everything had shifted towards the finals before Winter break, meaning now you were using the space to go over the study guide for the final given by one of your other professors, though it would’ve been nice to have your math study guide to burn into your brain since it’s your biggest struggle.

“Yeah, this is easy for me,” you mutter, hand against your mouth as your eyes move back and forth across the packet of information in front of you. Having Leon leaning over you had been commonplace since mid-November. He turned out to be very nosey. “Shouldn’t you be focusing on your own classes?”

You didn’t need to look at him to know he was extremely confused by your study guide. “Uhh.. nah,” he stood upright and slowly made his way around the table, sitting down in front of you with a small groan as he relaxed into the seat. “I’ve made it through the past couple years here without ‘em. No need for ‘em now.” You nodded to the side at his, bringing the pen you were holding up to your mouth to nibble on the end of it. “Makes sense…”

It took awhile before you noticed his nervous fidgeting, looking up from your study guide to give him a worried look. “Are you bored? I can finish up in my dorm if you-”

“Do you want to get dinner with me tonight?” He cut you off, his eyes meeting yours before the room fell silent. The question was so sudden and you weren’t expecting anything like it, so it just had you confused. You must’ve looked it, too, since he moved his eyes away from yours while crossing his arms. “I mean-.. Y’know, figured I’d ask..”

Seeing him get nervous was always pretty cute to you, such a handsome guy getting worked up over you never failed to flatter you. “Oh, yeah! I’d like that, actually..” You giggled when Leon looked back at you, soon grabbing your few supplies to put back into your backpack.

Relief spread across his face, moving to stand as you collected your items. “Good, okay, uh.. How’s Olive Garden sound?” To the average college student, Olive Garden was some high class fine dining. Anyone would be a fool to say no to an offer like that.

Just like your friend told you not to do, the absolute biggest no-no when it came to these types of college guys, you let Leon get even closer. It was just dinner in the beginning, but you started seeing him outside of study sessions afterwards with him going out of his way to seek you out and hang out with you and you the same. “Just going out to dinner” turned into dates real fast, faster than you even had time to process.

You’ve almost completely forgotten about just how nasty he was towards you not three months prior with how he doted on you. Leading up to finals week, Leon made sure to bring you food after noticing your long study habits. He wouldn’t even give you a choice, just a simple “whaddya feeling tonight?” over text. He’d hang out in your dorm with you while you ate, much to your roommates dismay, and sometimes he’d just show up for no reason other than to see you. You’d blush and shy away from his flirting, he’d tease you, and you’d get mad at him for distracting you in a playful way. Even if you wanted to be actually mad at him, you couldn’t, not with that cheeky little grin he’d give you.

You never questioned his nosiness as he familiarized himself with your dorm, rummaging through your drawers as you whined at him from the bed to stay out of your stuff. Honestly, you’d probably look through his stuff too if you had the chance.

Having a boyfriend during your first year of college wasn’t exactly a goal, and you don’t know if this is even a relationship or not, but you weren’t complaining. It was so nice having someone care about you like this, especially when it’s someone who’s, to you, way out of your league in almost every sense. Though he wasn’t the most outgoing, he was very well known, and being seen with him meant the attention he received was spilling onto you. Hell, you didn’t even know he played football until he passed by you with his friends, all in their football get-ups. He never bragged about any practices or games to you, maybe you should’ve asked about the various bruises and scuffs he’d show up to the study sessions with. Oh well.

Every night during finals week, Leon would take you out for dinner under the guise of “destressing from the long day”, not that you minded, of course. You were growing increasingly anxious about your last final, the big one; math. The two of you were sitting in his black Jeep Wrangler as it idled out in the parking lot of McDonald’s, snacking on what was left of your meal in a comfortable silence. The combination of the heater blowing on you and the food in your stomach was settling you, if only a little.

Leon kept his eyes on you the entire time, hand rubbing soothingly up and down your thigh. His hand was so warm. “You’ll pass, I know you will.” His soft touch barely had you cracking a smile, looking through the windshield as large snowflakes quietly fell, lit up by the streetlights surrounding the parking lot and by the headlights on his car. The snow had accumulated an inch on the ground already, the sun having set nearly two hours prior. Winter and its short days, a blessing and a curse. “I don’t know..” You could feel his eyes on you, yet yours were stuck staring out at the falling snow. “My nerves always get me. I’m gonna make the stupidest mistakes and then once the final grades are in my parents’ll wanna see and then I’ll be surrounded be disappointment and shame and guilt.”

You closed your eyes and slumped your shoulders when you felt Leon squeeze your thigh, finally able to turn and look back at him. “You know that’s not how it’s gonna go.” He let out a breathy laugh when you raised an eyebrow. “Oh come on, you’ve got it down! Plus, you had an amazing tutor~..”

With a dramatic groan, you rolled your eyes as he wiggled his eyebrows at you, unable to hide your smile. “I guess, but you weren’t that amazing..”

Leon moved his free hand and brought it up to his chest, holding it there with a strong pout to feign hurt. “You wound me.. Was I nothing to you?” His smile quickly returned when you clicked your tongue at him, chuckling through his nose. “Seriously though, I’ve never met anyone as smart as you are. You learned how to do that kind of stuff incredibly fast, so I don’t have a single doubt in my mind that you won’t demolish that final.” His compliments always left you blushing and at a loss for words, playfulness giving way to a more heavy air. “Thank you, Leon. Really, thank you...”

You were too wrapped up in watching the snow fall through the windshield to notice when his hand pulled away from your thigh, or just how guilty he looked as he silently watched you.

The math final was easier than you were expecting. You understood basically everything that had been put on it minus a couple things that you scolded yourself for not brushing up on last minute. Grades weren’t put in until a week or more after the finals were turned in, yet you were confident enough in how it went to feel good leaving that room afterwards.

This first semester had really tested your limits, but you were lucky to have your friends, lucky to have Leon. It didn’t feel strange having him around anymore, it felt natural, real. There weren’t enough ways to thank him for all that he did between tutoring you and taking care of you overall.

You yelped with laughter as Sky picked you up, their arms around your midriff, waving you side to side as they yelled how proud they were of you. Ella only stood by and laughed along, making sure to take a picture of the moment as keepsakes. “Guys, I don’t even know if I passed yet!” You pushed away from Sky and they placed you back down on the ground, smoothing out your shirt which had you swatting their hands away.

“But! You survived and that’s always cause for celebration.” Ella pocketed her phone and took a couple steps forward so you were all standing in a small circle now. “You really pulled through these last few months.”

Thanks to Leon. “I did, huh?” You looked down with a bashful smile, shrugging before pulling the strap on your backpack further up so it wouldn’t slip off your shoulder. “You know,” Sky started, resting their elbow on your other shoulder while pursing their lips as they slowly turned their head to look at you, “you’re not very good at hiding your love for Leon..”

You weren’t trying to hide it, it's just that even the vaguest thought about the man had you flustered and stumbling over your words like a fool. All you could do now was glare at your friend, who just raised their hands up in defense. “Hey now, not poking fun, just making an observation.”

Ella placed her entire hand over Sky’s face and pushed them away from you, ignoring their muffled complaints as she looked at you. “We’ll always be suspicious because we’re your friends and we care about you, but as long as you’re careful, we’ll keep our distance.”

Sky pulled Ella’s hand off their face, making gross-out noises while wiping their face off. “Blegh, anyways, yeah. Keeping our distance, but still watching from afar.” They pointed their index and middle finger from their eyes to yours before smiling.

You hung around in their dorm as Ella finished packing up her suitcase. She’s had her plane ticket back home booked for a month, constantly expressing her need to leave as soon as finals were finished during that time. Sky was leaving the same day you were, which was in two days since you both drove or were driven here. Leon stayed at his frat house all school year, so you were thankful to have two people sticking around so you weren’t left all alone.

Unfortunately, this meant you had your own packing to do. Thankfully though, your roommate had already left, sparing you from their menial chit-chat. Packing was almost cathartic in a weird way, almost as if you saw going home as a reward for working yourself to the bone at this university. Quiet music was playing from your phone as you gathered the essentials, you’d be coming back in three weeks so there wasn’t any need to pack up everything.

A gentle knock knock knock at your dorm’s door startled you from your thoughts, causing you to blink a few times to make sure it wasn’t just coming from the song that was playing. Slowly, you made your way over to the door, and before you’d even opened it fully, Leon slipped his way through, side stepping into the room with a cheeky smile.

You scoffed as you watched him weasel his way in, hand stuttering away from the door handle to allow the heavy door to shut. “You could’ve waited until I opened the door all the way.”

“I knocked, though.” Mischief was evident in his tone as his eyes landed on the suitcase sitting on your bed. “Getting ready to leave?”

“Not for another couple days. Just.. wanna be ready.” You walked past him over to your suitcase, continuing to fold the last few pieces of clothing you wanted to bring back home. “Perfect, got some extra time to spend with you then.” Leon chuckled, now standing next to you to watch you get back into rhythm.

Having him admit that so casually had you nervous, cheeks heating up as you glanced over at him. “Wouldn’t you rather hang out with your friends?” The eyebrow raise he gave you made you stumble as you tried to elaborate. “N-not that I don’t want to hang out with you! I just feel like you’d have more fun celebrating the end of the semester outside of a stuffy dorm.” You tried to laugh away the embarrassment, moving your focus back to the suitcase as you zipped it up.

“I can celebrate with those slobs any time, but for right now, I would really like to be around you.” Leon carefully lifted your suitcase off the bed, placing it near the door for you. “You’re nice and quiet. They’re not.” You sighed after lifting yourself up onto your bed, sitting criss-cross right in the middle while meekly smiling to yourself, watching him walk back over to stand in front of you.

“By the way,” he said, turning his head to look out your window for a split second before looking back down at you, “I haven’t had the chance to tell you how proud I am of you for coming out of that math final. I know results take awhile, but you seem pretty pleased with yourself.” He crossed his arms and bent forward a bit with a teasing smirk as he not-so-subtly looked you up and down.

You covered your face with your hands and laughed into them, a poor attempt to hide your ever increasing blush. After letting your hands fall away, you bunched the end of your hoodie up in them, fiddling with the thick fabric as you replied. “Yeah, uh.. I think I did alright.” You were going to say more, but you stopped when Leon’s hand found its way under your chin, tilting your head back so you were looking at him. “C’mon, don’t downplay this, baby. You did amazing and you know it.”

Your mind went blank at the pet name and you were finding it hard to breathe with the way his hand felt under your chin. The air in your dorm was a tad tense before, yet now it just felt heavy. Stifling. All you could do was stare up at him with wide eyes, eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly as you tried to think of something, anything to say.

“Did I catch you off guard?” He said with a breathy laugh, gently tilting your head side to side as he studied you. And you let him. Your mouth felt dry, face hot as he leaned in closer. “You’re so beautiful..” His voice dropped an octave and his eyes were lidded as they stared into yours. “So smart, so brave..” Soon his lips were brushing against yours, whispering out a final “So perfect..” before pulling you into a gentle kiss.

It didn’t take long for you to relax into the kiss, eyes fluttering shut as you tried to mimic Leon’s movements. His hands cautiously slid down to grasp at your waist while yours moved up to cup his face, pulling him closer. He slowly crawled onto the bed with you tugging him along, leaving you laying down as he hovered over the top of you, knees planted on either side of your legs while one of his arms moved up to support himself.

He was doing his best to be careful with you, noting your nervous tremble as his right hand slid under your hoodie. “M’gonna take care of you, ‘kay?” He hummed against your sensitive skin, kissing along the underside of your jawline. You only nodded as his lips trailed down your neck, stopping when your hoodie got in his way of the rest of you. “Need you to say ‘okay’ f’me, baby.”

Nearly whining when he stopped, you nodded again a bit more vigorously this time, voice barely a whisper. “O-..Okay..” You propped yourself up slightly when Leon pulled his head away from your neck, his eyes meeting yours as both his hands were now playing with the end of your hoodie. “Y-Yeah, okay…” You repeated.

First it was your hoodie, then it was his jacket, and before you knew it, he had you in his arms, chest pressed against yours as he reached around to unclasp the hooks on your bra. You immediately brought your arms up to cover your breasts once Leon leaned back after pulling your bra off, self-consciousness suddenly settling in. “Hey hey, no need to hide from me..” He cooed, eyes raking down your body as he grabbed your hands to pull your arms away, thumbs rubbing circles onto the tops of your hands as he stared with a crooked smile.

You took the opportunity to take in his form; muscular, a couple old scars and freckles standing out to you. He was gorgeous, through and through, no doubt about it. He took notice, craning his neck to look down at his exposed chest before looking back up at you. “Looks good, huh?” That got a small giggle out of you, at least.

He slowly guided you back down onto the bed, his hands firmly rubbing up and down your sides. “You look even better, though. Layin’ pretty beneath me~..” His right hand found its way to your panties, running his fingers along the band before trailing further down to press his middle finger against the gusset. You gasped at the feeling while he laughed quietly, leaning back a bit further to catch a glimpse of the wet spot he was feeling. “You’re soaked.. Lil’ bit of touching got you all worked up?”

Your hands flew up to hide your face again as he rubbed his finger up and down your clothed pussy, letting out small gasps and whimpers all the while. You shakily nodded, subconsciously spreading your legs further apart as he slotted himself between them.

“Tell me something, babe.” Leon paused his movements to look up at you, huffing a chuckle through his nose when he noticed you’d covered your face. “You seem real nervous, so I’m jus’ wonderin’...” Dread settled in your stomach at his implication, you were hoping he wouldn’t ask this. “Yes..” You whispered, parting your fingers over your right eye so you could look at him. “Don’t make me say it, please…”

He hummed low in his chest, eyes darkening as they moved back down to your panties. “Juuust wonderin', is all..” His finger started to caress you over your panties again while adding a bit more pressure. “There’s no shame in being a virgin. Only means I gotta make this extra special for you~.” You moved your hands to shoot him a weak glare and he smiled in return. “Didn’t say I couldn’t say it.”

Once he felt your tremble start to dissipate, he brought his hands up and hooked his fingers on the band of your panties before slowly tugging them off, letting out a low groan as a string of slick stayed connected to the gusset from your leaking pussy. “Fuck, that’s hot..” He breathed in sharply through his teeth, taking your panties into one hand before grabbing his hoodie, stuffing them into the large pocket in the front.

Leon didn’t waste any time putting himself back between your legs, languidly dragging his middle finger up and down through your folds. He relished in your every noise, even as you tried to hold them in. “You ever finger yourself before?” He asked, voice gravelly as he repeatedly pulled his finger back to watch your slick cling to it by a string.

“... no..” Your innocence had him groaning to himself again. He could ignore the guilt eating away at him long enough to handle you the way you needed to be handled. “Let’s give it a try then, yeah?” He hunched over some more so his face was hovering above yours, middle finger now gently circling your clenching hole.

“P-Please be careful..” You whimpered, slightly panicked at the feeling of his finger nudging your entrance, one of your hands grasping the bed sheets while the other held onto his bicep that was closest to you. “I’ll be so careful, baby.. I promise I’ll be careful.”

And he was. What would’ve normally been a relatively quick process turned into ten minutes of Leon tenderly stretching you on his fingers. He studied your face the entire time, whispering sweet words into your ear, even letting out deep moans to encourage your own timid ones. You needed the time. There's no rush.

He moved down to pair his fingers with his mouth, tongue running through your wet folds as his fingers stroked your walls. The noises you let out when he sucked on your clit were intoxicating. You were intoxicating.

Once Leon pulled his mouth and fingers away from you, you knew what was coming. And when he paused for a moment after standing up, hands hooked in his boxers, eyebrows tightly furrowed together in thought, that only served to make you more nervous.

“..Leon?” You managed to say, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched his shake himself out of his head. “Yeah, sorry, just… thinking about the best way to go about this. Don’t wanna scare you.”

“You-... I’m not gonna be scared..” You looked from his face down to his boxers, eyeballing where his fingers were still hooked in them. He just clicked his tongue, nodding his head to the side with a soft “if you say so”.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, you were scared. There wasn’t much frame of reference, but Leon was… sizeable, for lack of a better term. And it wasn’t just his size that was intimidating to you, it was the idea of sex itself. Sex has always been made out to be this big grandiose milestone by everyone around you, so now that you’re about to actually do it is giving you the same sinking feeling that public speaking does.

“You’re scared.” Leon had pulled his boxers all the way down without you noticing, letting them lay abandoned on the floor as he took the small step back towards you. “No.” You were quick to object, eyes still glued to his dick. He chuckled and tilted your head back by your chin once more. “Yes, you are, and it’s okay. I’m not gonna kill you with it.”

“You might…” You muttered under your breath, eyes lowly making their way back down to his dick as he got back up onto the bed and in between your legs. “I promised you I’d be careful, right?” Leon grunted, his hand squeezing the base of his cock before giving it a few slow strokes.

You swallowed dryly, pulling your eyes away and back up to meet his. “Yeah…” He nodded, giving you a wobbly smile as he teased his thumb across his tip. “Right. So don’t worry, I’ve gotcha..”

You only nodded, doing your best to keep your eyes up and focused on his face as he lubed himself with your juices. Your eyes widened once you felt him line himself up with your hole, body jerking a bit at the slight pressure.

“You gotta relax, sweetheart..” He used his freehand to stroke your thigh before pulling your right up over his shoulder, hand moving back down so his thumb could rub your clit. “Just breathe and focus on what my hand’s doin’, alright?”

The two of you were lucky that a lot the people in your dorm building left already, cause when his tip finally pushed past that ring of muscle, you let out an embarrassingly loud yelp. It hurt, but it was also such a new feeling that it simply startled you. “Okay, okay, that’s the hardest part. You did it.” You panted, hands tugging at the blankets beneath you as he stilled. “Okay…” You copied him, nodding your head once you felt you were ready for him to move.

The sting of the stretch was the hardest to get by, however it was easily masked by just how full you felt after Leon was fully sheathed inside you. So new, yet so good.

You let out a shaky sigh, eyes closing as you rested back against the bed. Your heart was beating and your body felt hot. It was actually a nice feeling. “You- ugh.. You can move.. a little..” You breathed out, grunting softly when you felt him twitch.

“Mhm..” Leon agreed with only a hum, not trusting his mouth enough to speak. He pulled back an inch before thrusting just as slowly, eyes darting around your face for any sign of discomfort. A minute or so of taking it slow led to deeper thrusts, following your command as you asked for “harder”, “deeper”, “faster”. All with that sweet voice that he couldn’t say no to.

You were eating away at him and you didn’t even know it; wrapped around him so perfectly, that delicious honey of yours dripping down his balls, moaning his name, looking at him with those glassy eyes, fuck. He fits you so well.

He kept his eyes closed, unable to look at you any longer. Ignoring the guilt was harder than he thought, even with him thrusting into you like he owned you. You weren’t his, he can't have you the way you want him to-

“Shit-!” He gasped, too lost in his own thoughts to notice you’d grown close until you abruptly clenched around him, sloppy cunt milking his cock. His thrusts stuttered to a stop as he buried himself deep into you, cumming with a whine of his own. Looking at the wall with bleary eyes, he furrowed his brow again, chewing on the inside of his cheek while he caught his breath.

Clarity crashed into him when you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a weak hug. He needed to go, but how could he leave you like this? God, he was so fucked.

He should’ve just stayed an asshole, that would’ve kept you far away. And he should’ve never taken that stupid bet. All this for a pair of panties to wave around like a trophy.

tags:

@kayotee4 @k-fallingstar @bobastayhigh @mi-zer-y @chasingkennedy @l30nva @espressonerd @jjouki @5tarx @bunnybreadloaves @whoisgami @cyanscribe @c4b3r1a @darichvep @mmmangel @kingtacocat @klee-iii @baby--vera @dakiniii @kenma-izhu @aliidarling @leonsmamacita @deadghxsty @nekoheist @dumbassmortal @cassiecasluciluce @iovewilliams @maeplayscello @deddiemunsonsblog @paranoid-but-android @mariesmain @tteokhwaa @bonnibuckets @eilonwykennedy @1dk-anym0r3 @papatyacikcik

(few of your blogs won't work, but i really tried 😩)

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corroded-hellfire · 11 months

Text

Passing Through - Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Being the new kid in a small town like Hawkins is tough. One late October day though, you meet Eddie, and he’s always looking out for those lost sheep.

Note: Happy Halloween 🎃

Words: 2.8k

In the great game of life, you have been given a shitty hand of cards to play this round. Starting at a new high school for junior year is an agonizing yet hazy experience. You have to start over in a place where cliques have already formed, and most people have known each other since kindergarten. The best shot you have at making friends is praying there are souls kind enough to include you in their group. Or maybe there are other pariahs you could collect along the way and have your own island of misfit toys.

On the other hand, even if this experience is completely horrible, it’s only a short two years that you have to endure it. It will feel like a lifetime, but maybe you could keep your head down and push through.

School has been in session for about two months now. The leaves are changing to the browns, reds, and yellows that always accompany the smell of fireplaces burning for the first time in months and the sickly sweet scent of apple and pumpkin permeating everything.

Late October is always a nice chance to wear comfy sweaters and cute scarves, bundling up as you take in the views of this time of year. Jack-o-lanterns litter the sidewalks, a few even placed around the high school campus. Children laughing and jumping in any pile of leaves that would permit them to make a mess. The outside aesthetic clashes with the churning, icy storm inside of you.

There are a few people you’ve met that you’d consider friends, yet not anyone you feel you can confide in about how alien you feel around the other teens of this small town.

Of course, there are mean girls everywhere and they never miss a chance to pounce on fresh meat. You’ve lost count of the things you heard said about you, but some of them even made you laugh. You wish you were cool enough to be here because your family is on the run. At least it would be something exciting. It’s also better than the other rumor that you taxidermy animals in your basement and now you’re looking for people to practice on. Someone obviously watched Psycho the night before they came up with that one.

Once in a while you’ve tried to sit with some of the friends you made at lunch, but you always felt out of place. You decided to start exploring the school during your lunch period instead. Sometimes you’d have your sandwich on the bleachers in the gym or have your cup of noodles under the large oak tree next to the science building.

Today, there’s a gentle breeze and, bundled up in your soft brown sweater, you decide to perch yourself on the short wall in front of the school. You settle yourself on the sun-faded bricks and open your lunch on your lap. Students go by, some of them in a hurry, some of them looking like they’d rather be anywhere else. It’s nice to people watch; sometimes it makes you feel less alone. You take a bite out of your peanut butter sandwich and let your eyes slip closed. The wind ruffles your sweater and brings a smile to your face as it kisses your skin. When you open your eyes, you’re greeted by a scene of two basketball players seeing who can burp the loudest.

With a sigh you take another bite of your sandwich. Is there anyone at this school that will just get you?

As the thought crosses your mind, you feel a heavy weight plop down next to you on the wall. You turn your head and see the cutest guy you’ve seen yet in Hawkins. His curly hair is frizzy, but in the most endearing of ways. The brown of his eyes perfectly matches the atmosphere of autumn around you. But it’s his smile that has your heart racing. It’s big, bright, and most important of all, it’s genuine.

“Ah, I can spy a fellow Hawkins outcast when I see one.”

Warmth burns your cheeks simply by making eye contact and having this man speak to you. The air around you might be getting cooler, but your body is heating up. It makes sense; he’s really cute.

“Uh, yeah, I guess that’s me.”

“New kid?” He leans back and narrows his eyes slightly, as if he’s appraising you, but in a joking manner.

“As I’ll probably be referred to until I graduate, yes,” you admit with a breathy chuckle. He laughs in return, and it sounds like music, the melody of it being swept away by the breeze.

“I was known as the ‘freak’ to most people. You’d think ‘Eddie’ was merely a suggestion of what to call me, not my actual goddamn name,” he says with an overdramatic shrug of his shoulders. “Didn’t really bother me after a while.”

“I wish I didn’t let things get to me as much as they do,” you admit. Why? You’re not sure. Maybe because this is the first person in Hawkins that seems to be interested in what you have to say. Eddie smiles and shakes his head, eyes turning down to gaze at his lap.

“The assholes aren’t worth it.” Eddie waves a dismissive hand in the air, multiple chunky rings glinting in the afternoon sunlight. “But trust me, you find the right friends, and everything will be smooth sailing. They’ll have your back, and you’ll have theirs—none of the other shit matters.”

“You’re pretty wise, Eddie.”

“Don’t know if I’ve ever been called that before,” he tells you through a guffaw of laughter.

“Well, it’s fitting,” you say.

“Eddie the Wise,” he tries out the name, but wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “Nah, doesn’t work.”

“I like your pick necklace,” you say, just trying to keep talking and have Eddie here for as long as you can.

“Huh?” He looks down at it. “Oh, thanks. You like music? Good music, I should say. Because I’ve got the all-time best band right here.”

Eddie shrugs off his denim vest layered over a leather jacket, your eyes trailing every movement his body makes. Bare, pale arms come into view once he’s finally rid himself of the article of clothing. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the dark ink that contrasts against his alabaster skin. A small colony of bats taking flight.

“Ta-da,” Eddie says, presenting his Metallica t-shirt to you and bringing you back to reality.

“Not bad, not bad,” you acquiesce, once you’ve refocused.

Eddie just grins and puts his layers of clothing back on.

A couple of cheerleaders walk by and look you up and down, trying to be as obvious as possible about it. Because they know it will get even more under your skin, they lower their heads and start whispering together.

Eddie gives them a saccharine smile and flips them off as they go by. It makes you giggle, and it brings you satisfaction that those girls didn’t rob you of your happy afternoon.

“Take it from me,” Eddie says with a sigh. “You’re gonna be just fine here in Hawkins. This school is a shit show, but it has its bright spots. Friends mostly. Clubs—you should look into those for sure. Some teachers aren’t half bad either. Take Mr. H. He’s a bit of a smartass, but he’s a good guy.”

“Yeah, I have him for physics and he’s great.”

The corners of Eddie’s mouth quirk up in a smirk and he pushes himself off the wall.

“Well, as much as I’d love to stay and chat with you—and seriously, I really wish I could—I’m not even supposed to be here right now.”

“Oh, you don’t have this lunch period?” you ask.

“Nah,” Eddie says as he slides his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. “I’m supposed to be somewhere, doing something, I don’t know.” Eddie’s lackadaisical nature makes you giggle. “But I saw a pretty girl sitting here all by herself and I took a detour.”

His words make you feel flushed and flustered, unable to come up with anything to say in response. Eddie goes to walk away but turns back and gives you a smile; almost as bright as the very first one he gave you.

“Everything’s gonna be alright. This is your year. I can feel it.” He offers you a quick wink then he’s on his way.

The bell rings, breaking you out of your daze watching Eddie walk away. You hasten to clean up from your lunch so you can make it on time to your French class on the other side of campus.

When you’ve got everything situated and ready to get to class, you look around but there’s no sign of Eddie. No curly hair, no dark delicious eyes, nothing.

In class, it’s a fight not to tap your pencil against your desk incessantly. You’re itching to ask someone, anyone, if they know Eddie and where you can find him. At this moment more than ever you wish you’d made better friends here already.

Screw it, you think as the bell rings to signal the end of the class. I’ve got to ask about him.

“Mrs. Daaé?”

Your petite French teacher gives you a kind smile. “Yes, dear?”

“Do you know a student named Eddie?” You feel so stupid asking this; asking a teacher if she knows anything about the cute boy who came and talked to you.

Mrs. Daaé thinks for a moment, her long mauve fingernails tapping against the top of her desk.

“I don’t believe I do,” she says with a sympathetic smile. When you’re the new kid you get used to people giving you that look very quickly.

“That’s okay,” you say, eager to be out of there. “Thank you anyway.”

It’s the same answer from everyone you talk to. The few friends you’ve made, people who sit near you in class, even your teachers. No one seems to know who this guy is or have any idea what you’re talking about.

By the time you get to your last class of the day, you’re half convinced that you’re crazy. Gone mad, absolutely bonkers.

Physics isn’t your favorite class, but it does have your favorite teacher, so that’s something.

You pay enough attention to get by, but your mind constantly wanders back to the only person to make you feel welcome in this town.

The sound of your name jars you out of your thoughts. You look up and realize the last students from your class are walking out the door. Now that you think about it, you did hear the final bell ring, it just didn’t register.

“Sorry,” you say, but you’re not sure who to. Your teacher who snapped you out of your daze? The students you’ve been bombarding with questions today?

Maybe you should ask this teacher. It’s the last one of the day, you might as well. But you also don’t want to look like an idiot again.

“Something I can help you with?” The soft voice and kind smile shake you out of your thoughts. You’re the only student left in the room.

“Oh, no, I’m sorry,” you repeat the apology. As you step out the door, you change your mind, remembering Eddie referenced “Mr. H.” Taking a deep breath, you turn around and walk back into the classroom. “A-Actually… Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“I talked with this guy today, outside while I was eating my lunch. He was really nice—nicer than any of the other kids have been since I came here, honestly. But when I’ve asked around about him, no one knows who he is. He seemed to know you, though.”

Your teacher’s eyebrows furrow together, and he sits down in his chair behind the desk. “What’s his name?”

“Eddie.”

He shakes his head as he thinks. “I don’t know if we even have an Eddie in this school. We’ve got Ed Sweeney, the football coach. But I doubt it was him.”

“No,” you say with a disappointed, but not surprised, sigh. It’s the same answer you’ve been getting all day. “This was definitely a student. Curly hair down to his shoulders. Big, infectious smile, a dark red pick on a chain around his neck…”

Your teacher’s eyes widen exponentially, and you must give him an odd look without realizing it because he quickly composes himself and clears his throat.

“Did he, um, have any tattoos?” the teacher asks.

“Yeah!” You get excited, this being the first real hint of someone knowing what you’re talking about. “He had a bunch of bats—”

“On his right forearm?”

“Yes! That’s him!”

Your teacher slumps back in his seat and rubs his hand over his eyebrows.

“Holy shit,” he mutters under his breath. You’re surprised to hear that kind of talk from a teacher; you’re not even sure if you were meant to hear it or not.

“Is everything okay?” you ask timidly.

A grin from ear to ear looks back up at you and your teacher leans forward on his desk, resting on his elbows.

“You talked to him today?”

“Yes. I don’t understand, what’s–”

Before you can finish your question, he’s shuffling in his pocket and pulling out his phone. Frantically, he starts to look for something on it, obviously searching for something he deems as important as his fingers tap against the screen. Evidently, he finds what he’s looking for because his search comes to an end, and he takes a deep breath. The phone clacks down gently onto the wood of the desk and he slides it in your direction.

“Was this him?”

You take a few steps closer to the desk and peer down at the screen. Looking back at you is Eddie, tongue sticking out and hand held up in devil’s horns, standing beside your teacher–only much, much younger.

“W-What is this?”

“Is this him?” His voice is firm, but not aggressive.

“Yes, but I’m confused.” If you thought your brain was already jumbled up from no one knowing who you were talking about today, now it feels like it was put in a blender and puréed.

“This is unbelievable,” your teacher mumbles, a smile starting to appear on his face once again. “Still taking care of lost sheep, huh?” The question is obviously not directed at you.

Confusion is starting to turn to irritation, and it isn’t like your favorite teacher to not answer your questions. He’s always willing to explain things as many times as needed in class.

“Mr. Henderson, what’s going on?”

The initial response is a chuckle and shake of his head, clearly amused by something.

“Eddie Munson. He, uh, used to go here.”

“Did he graduate?” You try to hide the pang of disappointment in your voice that he isn’t a fellow student anymore.

The smile on Mr. Henderson’s face turns melancholic.

“Yeah. Yeah, he graduated.” Your teacher is clearly lost in a memory, and you can’t tell by his expression if it’s a happy one or a sad one.

Now you can’t help but feel a little petty and whiney about the one person who seemed to understand you not being around. In spite of yourself, you frown and cross your arms over your chest.

“Why was he here?” you can’t help but ask, poking the bruise.

Mr. Henderson seems stumped by this question at first. He thinks for a silent moment, then his eyes spark as if something just came to him.

“Probably here to give me a message.” He doesn’t elaborate on that before looking back up at you. “Eddie doesn’t…live around here anymore. He was probably just passing through.”

“Somehow he could tell I was the new kid,” you say with a slightly embarrassed shrug—as if being the new kid is something people can smell on you.

“Yeah, Eddie always had a knack for finding new kids. Even kids who’ve been here for years but didn’t have many friends.”

“He definitely came to the right person then,” you admit sadly. In front of anyone else you would feel stupid speaking these thoughts out loud, but Mr. Henderson has seemed like a safe place ever since you arrived at Hawkins High.

The man tilts his head and gives you a look of understanding—but not sympathy, like everyone else.

“Making friends can be hard. I was lucky I had friends coming into this school with me. Even so, I’m glad that Ed—uh, this upperclassman took me under his wing. Made a world of difference. Joined a club and made tons of new friends.”

The words spark a memory from your earlier conversation.

“Eddie mentioned that, actually. That I should join a club or something.”

Mr. Henderson chuckles softly to himself and mumbles of course he did under his breath. You’re not sure what’s so funny but it seems impolite to ask.

“I think that’s a great idea,” he says. He stands up from his chair and narrows his eyes. “I think I have a pretty good recommendation, too. Tell me, do you know anything about Dungeons and Dragons?”

#Eddie Munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic

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its-avalon-08 · 5 months

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Can you write a Nico Hulkenberg x Deaf Reader? press being a pain in the a****, but the fans and drivers always supporting!!

signing my way to you (nh27)

(im sorry this took so much time, based on recent requests i have been super consumed by everything)

nico hulkenberg wrestled with the steering wheel, knuckles white. the monaco grand prix was a blur – the roar of the crowd, the blur of the track – all secondary to the image that burned in his mind. y/n, his girlfriend of a year and a half, her face flushed with a mix of anger and hurt, as a reporter peppered her with condescending questions about her sign language.

it wasn't the first time. since their relationship became public, the press had transformed y/n into a caricature – the silent accessory to a racing driver. they'd mock her conversations with other drivers' girlfriends, their words dripping with a disrespect that made nico see red.

he pulled into the pits, the anger a hot coal in his chest. as he climbed out, his engineer, liam, placed a hand on his shoulder. "nico, calm down. max and lewis already tore into those reporters in the pre-race interview."

nico grunted, his gaze flickering to the monitor showing the post-race interview. max verstappen, ever the blunt one, was giving a scathing rebuttal.

"honestly, some of these reporters need to get a life. y/n is an intelligent, kind person, and frankly, none of your business. how about we focus on the actual race?"

lewis hamilton followed suit, his voice cool but firm. "max is right. y/n is a part of the f1 family, and we all respect her. perhaps you reporters could try the same."

nico felt a surge of gratitude towards his fellow drivers. charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lando norris, and daniel ricciardo all chimed in, their defenses a shield around y/n.

almost all people on the paddock had learnt basic sign language ever since y/n came. they loved her sarcastic personality and dry humor. the wags like alexandra (charles's girlfriend) was so fluent in sign language that you both used to gossip for hours on end.

later, at the team debrief, nico found y/n by the window, her back to him. he approached slowly, his heart heavy. "hey," he signed softly.

y/n turned, a small, sad smile gracing her lips. "hey yourself. rough interview session, huh?" she signed, her expression wry.

nico wrapped his arms around her, his chin resting on her head. "those reporters are a bunch of—" he stopped himself, frustration momentarily eclipsed by the need to protect her. "they don't deserve your tears, okay?"

y/n squeezed his hand. "i know. max, lewis, everyone… they were amazing."

a fierce pride swelled in nico's chest. "they wouldn't have it any other way. you're one of us, y/n."

the next day, the internet exploded. fans rallied behind y/n, showering her with messages of support. #respectY/N trended worldwide. the tide was turning. the atmosphere was different. reporters approached y/n with a newfound hesitancy. she greeted them with a polite smile, her hand resting on nico's arm, a silent statement of their unity.

the journey wouldn't be easy. but with nico, his fellow drivers, and the fans by her side, y/n wouldn't be silenced. they would rewrite the narrative, one race, one sign, at a time.

the barcelona paddock bustled with pre-race energy. y/n, hand in hand with nico, navigated the throng of fans. today was different. gone were the snickers and pointed fingers that used to follow her. instead, enthusiastic waves and shy smiles greeted them.

suddenly, a young girl, no older than eight, broke free from her parents' grasp. her gaze locked onto y/n, her eyes wide with excitement. the girl's father rushed to apologize, but y/n knelt down, a warm smile on her face.

the girl, her face flushed crimson, fumbled with her backpack, pulling out a brightly colored friendship bracelet. tentatively, she held it out to y/n, signing in broken but clear motions, "love you!"

y/n's heart melted. "thank you, sweetie!" she signed back, taking the bracelet gently. it was woven with vibrant pink and blue beads, a perfect match for the one adorning y/n's wrist.

nico chuckled, pulling out a similar bracelet from his pocket. "didn't know you were starting a trend, love."

y/n winked at him, then surprised the girl by tying the bracelet around her wrist. the girl's face broke into a joyous grin, and she launched herself into a hug around y/n's waist.

news of the interaction spread like wildfire. soon, a line of fans, young and old, gathered, each eager to exchange a bracelet with y/n and sign their message of support.

a teenage boy, clutching a slightly misshapen homemade sign that read "you inspire us, y/n!" approached, his cheeks flushed. he fumbled with his hands, finally signing, "thank you for showing us that being different is okay."

y/n squeezed his hand, her smile even wider. "thank you for showing me the power of kindness," she signed back.

a wave of warmth washed over her. this wasn't just about the bracelets; it was about a connection, a silent conversation that transcended words. it was a victory lap for inclusivity, a celebration of the human spirit.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the paddock, y/n looked up at nico, his eyes filled with pride. her wrists were adorned with a kaleidoscope of colors, each bracelet a tiny token of appreciation.

"this is amazing," she signed, her voice thick with emotion.

nico leaned down and kissed her forehead. "they see you, y/n. you're an inspiration."

and in that moment, amidst the cheering crowds and the roar of engines, y/n knew she was finally home. the silence that once defined her had become a bridge, connecting her to the world in a way she never thought possible.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

i hope you enjoyed! happy reading <3 do send in more requests! as for pre existing requests- im working on it! lots of love ava

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

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whatudowhennooneseesyou · 9 months

Text

𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐀𝐬 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

You all have cast your votes and I have received multiple requests for this analysis so come get your present…the wait is finally over!!!

Disclaimer: This analysis is for delusional purposes only. Think about it. Write about it. Have hard thoughts, don’t take it too seriously. 18+

I am using traditional astrology and I am interpreting Lee Know’s house placements as if he is a Gemini Rising, it’s unconfirmed if that is his Rising Sign but it most likely is.

Word Count: 930

I'm in love with you and all these little things...

Lee Know as a boyfriend is the type who’s heart burns brightly but his love shines quietly and his patient and ‘slow-burn’ approach to love is what makes him a beautiful partner for someone who is a late bloomer.

There wouldn’t be a lavish outburst of love and affection but instead he loves with his presence, that’s the beautiful part about having a Scorpio Venus is when they love you, you can feel that enduring love and presence by simply having him next to you.

When you’re sitting next to him on the couch…you’ll feel his love…when you’re in public and he lightly touches your wrist…you’ll feel his love…when he’s spooning you in the early hours of the morning…you’re going to feel his love.

And when I say Lee Know has a ‘slow-burn’ approach to love…I mean it’s a SLOW-BURN approach and he’d be the type to yearn for you for months before even offering a hint of affection because his Scorpio Mercury makes him prone to over-thinking and over-analysing all your interactions with him.

He’s the type to ask you out by stating along the lines of…’I have liked you for a long time now and I’ve been trying to show you but you haven’t figured it out and so now I need to tell you’...to which you’d probably say ‘You like me? I thought you were just being friendly’ to which he’d probably say…’I have been trying to flirt with you for the past year now’.

Lee Know masks very well so he’ll probably come off as cool and collected when deep down, he’s all jittery and nervous with excitement because he has thought of every possible outcome of how this situation could end.

(I’m playing Spotify and Little Things by One Direction just started playing and it’s perfect because it’s so Lee Know coded- it really is the little things with him).

When you tell him you don’t have much experience or have never been in a relationship, he won’t be discouraged but instead will cherish the connection more because his Sagittarius Moon means he values honesty and transparency.

You have felt that he is important and caring enough to reveal this information too so therefore he'll do his best to keep reassuring you that yes, he is the right person and you made the right decision by allowing him to be your first.

The relationship would start off with timid acts of reassurance like sending you messages asking if you've eaten dinner or sending you pics of the meal he's made.

And then...maybe a month later he'll invite you to stay over in his apartment and you'll take the bed while he sleeps on the couch because Lee Know understands you have to learn to trust him, you have to learn to get used to his presence.

Lee Know's control issues indicate he doesn't like being startled so physical affection will be on his terms, he'll want to initiate the first kiss or the first make-out session because his Virgo Mars means EVERYTHING has to be perfect for the moment.

A service dom (he's a switch technically but heavy dominant preference) to the MAX!!! and a lover of body worship...

He might not be the type to gush and fawn but he'll make sure the bedroom is littered with your favourite candle that you absent-mindedly mentioned to him a few months prior that he remembered.

The corruption kink would then slowly creep it's way into Lee Know's affections for you because he can't help but get off on the idea that it's HIS hands, HIS mouth and HIS words that are marking your soul and that even if the relationship doesn't last...there's a piece of your soul that belongs to HIM, an experience you can't share with anyone else.

'Aww kitten, you're so sensitive...no one has touched you this way before? Then let's keep this all for me then'.

And once you're physically intimate with each other, then that's when Lee Know's obsessive, possessive and jealous traits might pop out because in his mind, he taught you the ways of pleasure...so why would you share that with someone else?

He moulded you for him.

'Oh kitten, you want to go out and find someone else? Then you'll have to learn all over again and you've only just started'.

Lee Know is just as passionate a lover as Bang Chan but it's more expressed through actions which is why sex is an important love language for him as well.

With his Moon in the 7th House, it would be one of the few times where he could drop the mask and just reveal all his pent-up feelings towards you.

It's why I don't view Lee Know as hard dom/sadist material at all because sex would be a way of exploring feelings that he simply just can't verbalise on a regular basis.

When he's inside of you, when he feels the heat of you on his skin and he can see the trust in your glazed eyes and see your skin shivering from his touch...he would just be filled with overwhelming gratitude that it's HIM and only HIM to see you in such a vulnerable state.

And he'd wrap his arms around you, kiss your forehead and gaze lovingly into your eyes as he shows you the REAL Lee Know.

'My sweet kitten, you're the only one for me...I'm the first so I have to be the last...I have too...because there's no else for me but you, there will never be anyone else but you'.

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who has supported me and I have gratitude and care for all my moots and followers! Thank you for your motivation and your support, I am proud of you all and I hope you have a safe and amazing New Year!!!

Taglist: @creativechaoticloner @hipster-shiz @scuzmunkie @cherry-0420 @stardragongalaxy @berryberrytan @lyramundana @craxy-person @krishastumblernow @mykryptonitelight @ddeonghwassimp @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @whatsk-poppinhomies @junieshohoho @partywithgyu @hologramhoneymoon @gyuhanniescarat @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @bangchanbabygirlx @i-love-ateez @anyamaris @hexheathen @northerngalxy @ja3hwa @michel-angelhoe @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell

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letmesniffurdaddysfeet · 7 months

Text

Months ago, I made the bold decision to join a gym. I've always been drawn to strong, virile men and I knew that if I wanted to even come close to their standard, I needed to push myself beyond my limits. The beginning was brutal; my body ached and trembled as I struggled through each exercise. But slowly, I started to see results - my arms and chest sculpted into a decent shape. It's not easy to stay consistent, but lately, I've found a new motivation that burns within me: Walter.

Walter, the epitome of a gym giant in his forties. Tall, muscular, with a square jaw and arms thicker than my thighs. His confidence and expertise comforted me as he took on the role of my coach. It was during one of my training sessions that things shifted. Seeing me struggle with an exercise, he came over to correct my form and offer advice. And from there, we started training together.

Every session with him ignited a fire within me that was increasingly difficult to contain. Especially since Walter had a habit of being touchy-feely, sending my imagination running wild. Every detail about him excited me - his physique, his scent, his very presence... One evening after an intense workout when we were the last ones in the locker room, we headed to the showers as usual. Thankfully they were individual because just the thought of seeing him naked next door sent shivers down my spine (and other parts of my body). And it would not have been easy to hide it if we were in the same shower... Walter was the type to take his time in the shower while I preferred to get in and out quickly. However, this presented an opportunity that I had been fantasizing about for months but never had the courage to act on... until now.

With the water still running and Walter leisurely showering, I seized the chance to sneakily grab his belongings from the bench. Everything was soaked with sweat - his boxers, his socks. After a moment of hesitation, I couldn't deny my desire any longer and buried my face into his bundle of belongings.

I craved it - for months I had been longing for this forbidden scent, this essence of masculinity. And now, finally, my expectations were met with a potent mixture of sweat, testosterone, and the slight hint of piss. My body was on fire, my cock throbbing as I indulged in this taboo pleasure. I could have orgasmed at the slightest touch, intoxicated by the scent of my gym god.

However, as I lingered in this moment of forbidden pleasure, the cold steel of the locker room door handle jolted me out of my trance. I quickly returned the soaked bundle of belongings to the bench, trying to regain my composure. The adrenaline rush of being caught in the act was electric; it only served to heighten the raw, primal desire that Walter's scent had already ignited within me.

I found Walter buttoning up his shirt, completely unaware of the clandestine act that had just taken place. We exchanged pleasantries and left the gym, my minds racing with secret thoughts

In the days that followed, I found myself unable to stop thinking about the scent of Walter's underwear and socks, and the forbidden nature of my act.

The memory of that scene tormented me at night, making my hand reach for my throbbing member over and over again. But mere fantasy could no longer satisfy my desperate cravings, I needed something tangible... And so, I made the twisted decision to steal a sock from him...who would mind for one missing sock ? My heart raced with anticipation as Walter took his shower, while mine was rushed and short to give me maximum time. The excitement coursing through my veins made me dizzy, the thought of having his scent with me at home, within reach of my hand, my nose, my mouth... As I relished in the musky aroma of his boxers and socks once again, my mind was lost in a haze of pure desire. His boxers reeked of piss and felt stiff and stained against my face, but I was too overcome with arousal to care. In a moment of reckless abandon, I even dared to give them a few licks before plunging my face back into his socks. Lost in a frenzy of ecstasy and still hearing the water running, still thinking I was alone, I failed to sense the presence that had been watching me for a few moments now... "So we have a thing for masculine scents?" F...FUCK?! My body tensed as I spun around to see Walter standing there, observing me with a sly grin and sparkling eyes, his semi-erect penis on full display. He didn't seem angry, in fact, he seemed quite amused by my brazen actions...

"Looks like we have a lot more in common than I thought," Walter said, slowly approaching me. His voice was low and raspy, sending shivers down my spine. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my mouth going dry as I tried to deny the desire that was taking over me. But the scent of his arousal, the lust in his eyes, it was too late to back away. This was happening, and there was no denying it.

Walter took my hand which was still holding his sock, wrapped his powerful hand above mine and slowly directed it towards my nose, coming to stick to me, I then felt his penis harden against my buttocks and he then ordered me gently. 'sniffle! '

Walter's grip on my hand was like a vice, pulling me closer to him as he pressed his bulging groin against my backside. My breath hitched in fear and anticipation as his other hand grabbed his sock and forcefully brought it up to my nose, the scent of his sweat overwhelming my senses. I could feel his erection growing against me, rubbing against my buttocks with increasing force. Suddenly, he commanded me to sniffle harder and I obeyed without hesitation. As his sock moved over my face, smearing his musky scent all over me, I couldn't help but moan with pleasure. With expert precision, his fingers danced in and out of my mouth, their movements mirrored by my hips grinding against his throbbing cock. The intense sensations consumed me, and I gave myself completely to him, letting him use me however he pleased.

Without warning, Walter abruptly halted and moved for me to join him on the nearby bench. His manhood was fully engorged, the lines of his veins prominent and pulsating with excitement. Precum flowed freely from its tip, glistening in the dim light of the locker room. I obediently obeyed, lowering myself to the ground and pressing my back against the cool tiles that had been marked by countless men's feet. And now, it was Walter's turn to offer his feet to me. He lifted his feet and placed them on my face, a tempting invitation for me to eagerly lick and taste every inch of them. The scent of sweat and musk mingled together, adding to the intoxicating atmosphere as I indulged in this moment with Walter. Walter's face twisted with pleasure as I devoured his big feet, my saliva covering them in a slick sheen. Moaning loudly, I demanded more of what he could offer me, craving every drop of his virile essence. His own excitement was evident as he jerked off, knowing he was close to cumming. As I diligently licked and sniffed, a foot slowly rubbed against my pulsing cock, driving me wild with desire. Our eyes locked in a heated gaze, Walter reveled in my submission to his manhood. The pace of his thrusts increased, matching the rhythm of his foot rubbing against my throbbing member. In a frenzy of lust, I took his other foot into my mouth, hungrily pushing it in and salivating even more. With each moan growing louder, Walter finally reached his climax. A powerful jet of sperm splashed over my body and face, mixing with my saliva and coating his foot. Unable to resist any longer, I came against his second foot in an explosion of pleasure that left my body trembling with ecstasy. Walter then took a sock, wiped off his cum before slipping the sock into my bag.

"A little thank you for your submission," he whispered, before disappearing into the shadows. #malefeet#daddyfeet

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hoshologies · 1 year

Note

ur aftercare drabble with mark is making me so soft🥹🥹 if it’s alright can u also write abt inexperienced reader who is having her first time with mark?

send me a kink/scenario + an idol (txt, svt, skz, enha hyung line, or nct dream) and i’ll write a drabble

warnings. afab!reader, making out, suggestions of sex (primarily f!receiving oral and penetration) smut is under the cut. minors do not interact.

your favorite thing about mark has always been his willingness to accomodate and make you comfortable. in any other man, this would be the absolute barest minimum, but mark approaches it like it’s the greatest honor that could ever possibly be bestowed upon him: he asks for your permission on everything, he tailors every date to your personality and interests and comfort level, he even waited for you to express interest in wanting to go beyond holding hands and hugging (though, in his excitement, your first kiss together ended up being a little messy, but it was sweet nonetheless). most of it stems from your inexperience; mark is your first real boyfriend and you want to make it work, so he’s been kind and patient with you, allowing you to set the pace.

like he’s doing right now, letting you settle yourself on his lap, your hands drifing across the soft expanse of his chest and stomach, places on him you’ve never seen before. he’s the only one in a state of undress; he told you that this can take as long as you need it to, so he didn’t rush to take your shirt off in the middle of the makeout session that had started in the middle of a movie, no long forgotten. your fingers trace, memorize every dip in his skin, every freckle, every mole newly discovered, and you feel him growing hard under you, hot and insistent in a way that stokes your own fire behind your navel.

he pulls your mouth to his again, a little bashful under your exploring gaze and looking for a way to get your eyes off him for a few moments so he can recollect himself. somewhere in the midst of it, his fingers, which had been resting dutifully on your lower back, dip under your sweater and you shudder; not in a bad way, though, because you like the feeling of his calloused fingertips against your skin. when he pulls away and looks up at you with his brown eyes wide and glassy, pleading, you nod and let him take your shirt off of you, all reverence and worshipful.

and then not long later, he’s got you on your back, your head resting on his many pillows. your shorts and bra have joined your abandoned shirt on the floor next to mark’s bed. like you, he’s left only in his boxers and when he looks up at you from between your legs, one hand on your thigh and the other toying with the hem of your underwear, you think you just about die on the spot.

“i know this is all new for you,” he says, tilting his head to the side just so. he looks inquisitive, earnest, like your pleasure and comfort are the only things in the world that matter to him. “so can i tell you what i want to do and you can decide if you want me to do that? because i just… really, really want this to be good for you.”

you nod and smile at him softly, a gesture he returns before he starts listing off, his eyes trained on you and gauging your reactions. you’re fighting off the mortification of being naked in front of a boy for the first time ever, of hearing him tell you that he wants to taste you, wants to feel you around him when you come. every part of you burns with embarrassment, but when he asks you with a gentle voice “is that okay? do you wanna try?” you really cannot bring yourself to tell him no because if you’re going to experience this with anyone for the first time, you’d prefer it with mark, who already treats you like a deity.

so you don’t. you tell him yes and he smiles. and he thanks you.

#mark lee x reader #mark lee smut #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #nct x reader #nct smut #kpop x reader #kpop smut #hard.thought

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heaven4lostgirls · 1 year

Text

hope (S.R)

pairing: steve rogers x reader

warning: angst, a little bit of comfort.

summary: the aftermath of reader leaving steve gives him clarity and has them both realizing that he needs to work harder to gain his girl back.

word count: 1.6k

a/n: I am so sorry this took so long to come out, I’ve been swamped with uni work but I’m so happy you guys liked part 1, I will probably post a part 3 to this, which other characters do you ship reader with??? Steve is looking at some competition soon!

part 1 , part 2, part 3

tags: @nouk1998, @spngingerbread21, @blackhawkfanatic, @immyowndefender (if I wasn't able to tag you that means your tags don't work!)

Steve,

If you’re reading this, then you have realised I’m not staying in the tower anymore. Tony helped set me up in safe house for the next few weeks, I can’t stay here. You chose Sharon over me Steve and you must know that I can’t stay with someone who would choose another woman over me.

I need you to know that although it’s been hard for me to accept it, I understand. It’s not okay that you chose to leave without talking to me, but I understand if she is who you want okay? I am so grateful to have spent the last 3 years by your side, but I can no longer watch on from the sidelines as you look at her like how you used to look at me.

When I come back, hopefully I’ll be ready to talk, but I am asking you that if you ever held any form of love and respect for me, to give me this time to heal.

Thank you, Steve, for everything,

y/n.

Steve crumples your handwritten letter in his hand, the paper squashed in the palm of his hands as he throws back the bourbon in his glass. His eyes are red rimmed and his face unshaven. He has been a mess since you left a week ago, unable to move from his room, and spending his time rereading your letter hoping that he could find some small sign that you still loved him, still wanted him.

He was unaccustomed to this feeling of pain, when he got out of the ice, he assumed the pain of knowing that he had missed his time with Peggy was truly the worst form of torture but the agony of once having your love and affection and having it so brutally stripped from him, may just be at the top of his list.

He sighs as he uncrumples the paper to place it on his desk as he moves to lay back in his bed, he had been part of a repetitive cycle for the last week, working purely on survival mode before he’s interrupted by a soft knock on his door.

He knows better than to feel excited at the small hope of it being you however he knows that it’s Bucky and Sam checking up on him and bringing him food before they annoy him into getting into the shower. He can’t stand the look of pity in their eyes as they hand him his food, so he slams the door shut as soon as he gets it, placing it on his desk, he moves to the bathroom.

He turns the shower head all the way to cold, hoping it will bring some shock into his system, however because of his super soldier abilities, his immune system is fried and numb to the coldness of the water.

His eyes burn as tears roll down his face, sobs wrack his body as he pounds his fist into the wall in front of me which breaks at the force of his strength. He hears the door quietly open before he feels Bucky’s metal arm tugging him from under the water into a towel.

This has happened nearly everyday for the last 3 days, sometime on the first day, Steve had stopped acting like you abrupt leaving hadn’t affected him and broke down during his training session, to which Bucky had been helping him through his depressed state however all he ever really wanted was you.

“I want her back” Steve sobs into Bucky’s clothed shoulder as he feels his friend cooing and soothing him like a baby before he is gently placed on his bed. His body shakes with his painful sobbing as he feels Bucky rubbing his back. “I know Stevie, I know” Bucky sighs as he tucks Steve in after he exhausts himself from crying.

Meanwhile you haven’t been doing any better, your mental health slowly deteriorating at the acceptance of the end of your relationship with Steve. You had known somewhere deep down that throughout the past month whenever you had caught Steve looking at Sharon that this was the beginning of the end.

However now it was time for you to face the reality of the situation, you may have spent the last week crying your eyes out at sad romance films with ice-cream and chocolate but you knew that enough was enough, you needed to talk with Steve and hear what he had wanted to say the day you left.

Running from your problems was not the best solution however you knew realistically you did not have the mental capacity to hear whatever Steve had to say and that it would only end up doing more harm than good considering how high strung you both were about the whole situation.

Now, as you step off the quinjet, you are greeted with Bucky’s genuine yet sorrowful smile. “Hi Buck” you greeted softly as you stood awkwardly, worrying if you could still hug him even though you knew he probably spent the last week comforting your ex-boyfriend. Not than you could blame him, they had been friends for far longer than the both of you.

Bucky just rolled his eyes before his smile widened as he pulled you into a tight hug, you breathed a sigh of relief and slumped into your friend. Your moment was interrupted by a loud voice chiming in from behind the both of you.

“Y/N!!!!” you and Bucky both separate, you with a look of amusement and Bucky with a look of annoyance. Peter’s joyful gaze found yours as he sprinted towards you. “I knew when you didn’t respond to the meme I sent you this morning, something was up!” he said excitedly as he spins you in a hug as a laugh bubbles out of you.

“Hey kid, yeah I was on a flight back from South Africa” you smile and separate from him before you see his joyful gaze darken at something behind you.

“Y/N.” you hear softly from behind you, and you freeze.

You turn around and place a polite smile on your face, not quite ready for the conversation ahead.

“Steve” you say and nod at him, he moves as though he’s going to hug you but thinks again and moves back and you’re somewhat grateful, you don’t think you’d be able to compose yourself.

You all stand in awkward silence for a bit before you break it, “I should uh” you gesture inside and he nods before he opens his mouth, “Can I help with your bags?” he asks nervously.

You were hoping to have a few minutes to compose yourself, but Steve is probably right to get the conversation out of the way.

As you both walk through the tower, you realise how quiet it is and make note to thank everyone for steering clear of the both of you.

As you both reached your old room since you had been sharing with Steve, you place you bag down before you turn to Steve who is standing sadly outside your room. “You can come in” you tease him and that snaps him out of his mood as he moves to sit at the desk in front of your bed and you sit on your bed.

“So” you both start before you motion to Steve to carry on.

“I love you y/n, I don’t want this to be the end, can we please work on this? I promise I’ll do better, and I won’t choose Sharon over you ever again.” He rushes out in what you assume is an attempt to stop the inevitable.

You smile at him in pity and before you can start talking you see him shaking his head as tears fill his eyes. “Steve, if you really wanted me as bad as you say you do, where was all this attention and affection this last month? Why did it take me leaving for you to realise how badly you fucked up?” you question and watch as he breaks in front of you.

The last week must have been hell for him, the same way the last month was for you.

“Please just let me try y/n, let me try please” he pleads as he moves from sitting in the small chair to kneeling before you as he grasps your hands.

You move your hands to grasp his face as you wipe his tears.

“Love, I will always love you but you need to realise how hard it was for me to sit here on standby every time you left me for Sharon, I need to choose myself for once” you confess and Steve sobs into your legs as you thread your hands through his hair as you try and calm him down.

You watch as Steve tries to compose himself in front of you before he looks into your eyes in determination. “I’m going to prove it to you” he says seriously, and you nod to placate him before he shakes his head in protest. “No, you don’t understand, I am going to prove to you how much you mean to me y/n” he says and some part of you is hopeful he tries as hard as he says he’s going to be this time.

“I’m not going to sit around and wait for you to make it up to me Steve, you’re going to have to work for it” you say, and he deflates but nonetheless nods in understanding, realistically he acknowledges that he deserved worse treatment. He just can’t stand the idea of you finding love and connection with someone that isn’t him.

#juliwrites #steve rogers angst #steve rogers imagine #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #captain america #steve rogers x reader angst #steve rogers hurt #steve rogers hurt/comfort #steve rodgers imagine #mcu #marvel #marvel movies #bucky barnes #peter parker

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stellar-constellations · 2 months

Text

Star Patient: Chapter 7 (ONGOING SLOW BURN SERIES)

WARNING: This series will include; possible inaccurate medical procedures and medical setting, gore, toxic relationships that should NOT be replicated in real life, murder, yanderes, cursing, suicide mentions, implications of misandry (male misogyny), descriptions of self-harming, accusations of cheating, child death, death of major and minor characters, OC's are used throughout the story for plot and depth, reader is in denial and paranoid, toxic family dynamics, perversive thoughts, reader is bipolar (not saying that in a quirky way, like literally bipolar), religious comparisons, light mention of demons, stalkers, possibly more to add.

Inaccurate canon-timeline and setting (this is before Ashley and Andrew murdered their parents). They also live in America (because I wasn't aware they lived in Europe prior to this series).

Reader has a small fear of adult men/rape and has a history of suicide attempts.

Incest is not Wincest.

Amnesiac! Obsessive! Patient! Andrew Graves x Yandere! Nurse! Reader:

Wordcount: 15,100+ words

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, current chapter, chapter 8, chapter 9 (in the works)

Want to listen to music while reading? Check out the Star Patient's Official Playlists! Multiple different playlists and genres!

The sound of holy hymns filled the tall church, the painting of a man looming over (Y/N) as she avoided the male’s eyes. Religious paintings just always looked creepy, their eyes just always followed you. What was even more creepier is making prolonged eye contact with the same boy for two minutes now.

Bright brown eyes stared at her own for 120 seconds now, 115 seconds too long for a normal gander to be. Perhaps he was just looking at the people behind her? Or maybe she has something on her face? Dear God, please don’t let it be that he can hear just how awful she sounds when singing. It was like her voice was a sin to this holy choir.

(Y/N) finally broke eye contact with the male, deciding to look back at the painting of the sacred male. Even he wasn’t as creepy as that boy’s staring was, whatever his name was.

The church reeked of burning incense and an old lady’s strong floral perfume. It almost hurt having her mother and some strange next to her singing—practically screaming—into her ears while she did her best to memorize the lyrics. It was hard to remember what came after “I’ve been set free” when all she could think about was being set free to the food trucks outside calling her name for lunch.

Finally, the song ended as she sung the finally sentence.

“You are forever mine.”

What a creepy thing to say to anyone, to any god or not.

(Y/N) stretched her limbs, earning herself a swat to her arm as her mother whispered for her to fix her dress before it rides up on her. She smoothed down her dress skirt, reaching behind and fluffing the white bow sewn to the dark blue dress.

She was excited to go eat some food, then get out of these damn flats that kept pinching her toes. She watched as people filed out of the church, making her eyes meeting bright brown ones as they stared at her through the crowd.

Has he even looked away once during this whole session?

“Hey, maybe he likes you?” Lola suggested, lounging on the library couch, taking up most of the space as her arm draped over the arm rest, her legs lying on (Y/N)’s thighs.

“God, I hope not…” (Y/N) groaned, tilting her head back to hit the couch cushion just to be a bit more dramatic. “I don’t even know his name. That’s grounds for instant rejection.”

“Well, is he cute?” Lola questioned, curious as she watched (Y/N) copy notes from her computer onto her notebook.

“I mean… I dunno? I think?” (Y/N) shrugged. “Gosh, Lo. You know I don’t ever notice that. Looks aren’t everything, you know?”

“Well, my future husband is definitely gonna have brown hair, brown eyes to match and a dashing, symmetrical face." Lola smirked.

“Please, you’re asking too much. Your face isn’t even symmetrical.” Annabelle scoffed, sitting on the harsh library carpets.

“Shut up! I’m gonna get laser surgery for this mole when I have enough money!” Lola whined, hitting Annabelle upside the head.

“I meant your nose, dummy!” Annabelle hissed, cradling her head where she’s been hit. "But that too!"

“Jerk!” Lola exclaimed, going to hit Annabelle once more, but Annabelle was quick enough to catch her wrist. “Stop touching me, Anna!”

“Then you stop hitting me!” Annabelle retorted as their hands wrestled with one another.

“Hey, hey! Stop! You’re messing up my notes!” (Y/N) hissed, hitting her shoulder against Lola’s.

“Stop, that’s not fair. You’re double-teaming!” Lola whined.

The school bell rung, prompting the three to halt their fight. (Y/N) packed up her notebook and computer with a sigh.

“Damn it… I didn’t get to finish my notes.” (Y/N) complained, throwing her backpack strap over her shoulder.

“I don’t know how you do it, girl. Being a nurse sounds like it’s such a drag, having to kiss up to everyone’s ass.” Lola sighed, looking at her hands to make sure her nail polish didn’t get ruined during their tussle. “Ah, damn it, Annabelle! You chipped my nail!”

“Which one?” Annabelle questioned, looking over at Lola’s yellow nails.

“This one.” Lola smirked, holding up her middle finger.

“You little—“

(Y/N) yelped, her body hitting the wall as her legs gave out from the unexpected force, knocking her to the ground. Two hands grabbed the collar of her blazer, pulling her right back up to her feet as they cornered her against the wall.

“Was it you?” a male spoke, his fists shaking with anger as his green eyes met (Y/N)’s.

“Hey! Hands off her, Ben!” Annabelle spat out, her hand touching the male’s shoulder.

“Bud out, I’m talking with the freak!” Ben hissed, shrugging her hand off his shoulder. “Was it you?” he repeated, his eyes glaring back at (Y/N).

“I can’t confirm anything if you don’t tell me, moron.” (Y/N) retorted, annoyed as she tried to pry his hands off her.

An uncomfortable feeling grew inside her stomach at the close proximity they shared, the tension downright suffocating as she resisted the urge to puke.

Dear stomach, don’t let me vomit on him… I’ll never go to school again. (Y/N) prayed to her stomach.

“Did you steal my wallet?” he finally spoke. “I had a three hundred dollars in cash and two gift cards, did you steal them?!”

“Lay off, dude. She was with us this morning!” Lola spoke.

“Yeah, I didn’t steal anything.” (Y/N) huffed, finally prying his hands off her blazer’s collar.

“I swear to God, if it was you I’ll kill you.” Ben spat, his finger jabbing into her sternum. “You’re a freak, just like your father.” He spoke, before storming off down the school hallways.

“What an asshole.” Lola scoffed.

“People like that shouldn’t be let loose into the public.” Annabelle growled, before looking at (Y/N). “You okay?”

“I’m just fine and dandy. Everything’s intact.” (Y/N) muttered, dusting off her blazer and skirt. “It’s not like he stabbed me or anything, so I’m fine.”

“Jeez, girl. You really need to be more… phased? Like, get pissed off at him! Punch him! Kick him in the balls!” Lola encouraged.

“Why would I waste my time on such pointless things…?” (Y/N) sighed, subconsciously picking at her nails. “I mean, Ben’s been doing this crap since middle school.”

“He doesn’t have any right to treat you like that!” Annabelle huffed. “If you won’t kick him in the balls, I will.”

“Can we not talk about Ben’s balls?” (Y/N) whined, a bit embarrassed at this stupid topic. “Just forget it, guys. I mean, this is senior year. We’re going to be graduating in three months, then I’ll never see him again so the problem will be solved.”

“The Almighty Lord blessed you with something I don’t have; patience.” Lola sighed, fanning her face exaggeratedly to show how heated she was about the matter.

“The offer is still on the table if you want me to—“

“No.” (Y/N) interrupted Annabelle, who just sent a pouting glare her way.

Annabelle was a short, black haired girl with brown eyes and a serious passion for weightlifting. She even won an award for the best high school female-weightlifter in the state, being able to carry Annabelle was (Y/N)’s best friend since pre-school. They met in the sand box, where a boy stomped out (Y/N)’s sandcastle, so Annabelle dumped sand in his hair. That sand was in his hair for at least a couple days—it looked like lice to where the caregivers had to inspect and comb through everyone’s hair to make sure there wasn’t a lice that would soon infect other kids.

They met Lola during their first year of middle school. Lola came into the year late as a new girl. She had bleached blonde hair with pink highlights in them (her natural hair color is unknown since she’s been dying it since she was six, not even in her photo gallery does she have a picture of her natural hair).

Lola hit it off with Annabelle instantly, the two meeting in after school’s photography club—which is the cover name. In actuality, it’s mostly just a place for friends to hang out after school and lie to their parents about doing important school stuff; however, the club does take pictures of pep assemblies and football games for the yearbook (albeit half of the photos are crappy and extremely unflattering).

The two girls are always begging (Y/N) to join the club, (Y/N)’s always rejected because she’s studying for college and to keep her college scholarship for a extremely well-liked nursing academy. After graduating that academy as a nurse, she can continue studying and work up the ranks to become a pediatrician!

So she has no time to be fooling off inside a club. She didn’t have that time as she did back in middle school. Well, she was practically a shell of a person.

(Y/N) got hit with a large wave of depression. She’s not quite sure why it just suddenly came up on her. Maybe it was because of the abuse she suffered as a child, maybe it was because of the bullying she would receive at school because of who her father was, or maybe it was because she didn’t have a good personality or looks. Whatever it was, it weighed her down for months, making it hard to get out of bed, hard to shower, hard to eat, hard to brush her teeth. Everything ached with pain. She didn’t know what hurt more; her brain or her heart? Annabelle and Lola were there for her though. They would encourage her to eat a little, to step outside for a bit, to shop for new clothes that would make her feel comfortable. Even after multiple suicide attempts, they never blamed her for how she felt, and they never gave up on her. Maybe the only reason she quit dying was because of them.

“Hey, the bell is gonna ring in a minute.” Lola pointed out, holding her phone as she stared at the time, her 2008’s preppy Hello Kitty aesthetic wallpaper staring at her.

“Damn.” Annabelle sighed, disappointed as she rubbed her neck. “Well, see you tomorrow, (Y/N).”

The two girls still had club after school, so they’ll be seeing each other. After lunch, (Y/N) doesn’t have any classes with them, so lunch is her last chance to see her friends before leaving school.

“Stay shining, star girl!” Lola spoke, sending (Y/N) her own starry smile as she referenced (Y/N)'s star hairlip, her lips coated in a light transparency of pink strawberry lipgloss.

“I’m gonna hit the bathroom real quick. If I’m late to class or not be damned.” (Y/N) smiled, waving them off as she parted ways with them.

(Y/N) glided down the hallway, before reaching the bathroom, pushing open the door and immediately making a dash to the toilet without even bothering to close the stall door. She dropped to her knees, balancing herself by placing her hands on the walls (so she wouldn’t touch the dirty toilet) and puked.

She had been holding that in ever since Ben slammed her up against that wall and shouted at her. The scene was absolutely terrifying to her, being trapped so close to an aggressive male like that did not feel good in the slightest.

How the hell do romance protagonists go through that? (Y/N) questioned herself, before another wave of nausea hit her as she thought about earlier, prompting her to lean over and puke once more.

Her father taught her many things in life; to raise a chicken and slaughter a chicken, to ride a horse and clean horseshoes, to tell the difference between ripe and unripe fruits, and to never trust a boy.

“Boys are disgusting creatures.” He would say.

“You should never trust a boy.” He would say.

“Boys only care about their satisfaction and pleasure. Everything about you is irrelevant.” He would say.

But men and boys are different. What makes a boy a boy is that they’re stupid, immature, and selfish. A man is someone who sacrifices themself for their family, and treats his wife and daughter with respect and kindness.

How can you tell the difference between a man and a boy if it’s not puberty that separates them? How do you know until before it’s too late?

Truth is, her father has always been distrustful of men in general—though he’s never explained why. She has a feeling it’s because of his upbringing. Maybe he grew up in a bad neighborhood, or maybe he had an abusive father; whatever it was, he didn’t want (Y/N) knowing about it.

But even though he hates boys with a passion that rivals the Greek Goddess of Passion Aphrodite, sometimes he doesn’t always act like a man.

There’s been moments where he’s screamed, punched holes inside the walls, been gone for nights after a time, on a very rare chance break stuff. Sometimes he remembers the episodes, sometimes he doesn’t. When he does remember them, he cries and apologizes, hugging (Y/N)’s mother Rose and her. He cries about how sorry he was, and how he doesn’t mean to overreact, and how he begs them not to leave because of his problem.

Rose will never leave; she likes the familiarity of her home town and the memories of the farm. (Y/N) knows she’ll never leave the farm.

The farm is extremely important to the town. It provides lots of the local strawberries for bakeries and jams. It provides the church parties to have their famous loaded mashed potatoes and potato bread. It provides Rose’s pockets with money in cold hard cash. The farm is so damn rich that it even regularly transported goods to three different states nearby.

Rose is sitting on a hill of riches supported by her family’s farm of 120 acres all the way on the edge of the small, close-knit town. The farm was passed down in Rose’s family for three generations now. The farm is so important that every inheritor must only have one child, that way the children can’t fight over the farm when the parent dies.

(Y/N) is expected to have a single child too, her mother has drilled that into her head enough. Rose always babbles on about how (Y/N) will inherit the farm when she dies. Her daughter must not be a whore and spread her legs for any boy; he must be a farmer, he must be her husband, and they must only have one child.

Rose is extremely serious about the farm, despite it being farmhands who tend to the farm. Rose doesn’t help out, she decided to become a nurse for some more money.

People think “Oh, Rose is so good, but her husband Frank is just a monster” but in actuality Rose is more of a monster than (Y/N) is.

(Y/N) spent the early years of her life locked in her damn room because of that witch. (Y/N) was forced to starve for hours to even days at a time while Frank laid unaware of what was going on to his daughter. Frank was consistently discriminated against, and constantly on his feet burning and cutting his fingers off in the auto shop, working grueling hours from open to closed because of mandatory overtime (which was actually just to drive the poor bastard out of down, or at least make him suffer for his condition “the Devil himself” gave him).

Frank had no idea the abuse and neglect (Y/N) received. (Y/N) wasn’t even aware it was abuse because she grew up like that ever since she was potty-trained.

(Y/N)’s early years revolved around watching TV, sleeping, and crying. Well, at least she had water she would drink out of the bathroom sink.

Rose spent the time working while (Y/N) was locked up, but it wasn’t uncommon for her to shove (Y/N) in that dreadful dark room just for her to neglect her duties as a parent. Anything to get out of cooking, cleaning, or spending bonding time with her daughter.

Another wave of nausea hit (Y/N) as she vomited once more. Her throat burned from her stomach acid and stomach enzymes. Her lungs hurt trying to breathe whilst her heart slammed against her rib cage. Her ears were ringing and her eyes had tears in them.

A flash and a camera shutter got her attention, causing her to spin her head around to look at the source, only for another shutter to echo in the bathroom walls as she was blinded by a bright light.

“Looks like the freak is self-purging.” A girl laughed. “This has to at least go viral on some platform. Not that you’re much to look at though.”

(Y/N) groaned, her throat aching from the vibration as she closed her eyes, cursing herself for not shutting the stall door.

“Y-you got it wrong…” (Y/N) muttered, meeting the girl’s blue eyes.

Kate’s had it out for (Y/N) for who knows how long. Kate’s been more of a bully than Ben has, and for longer too. Kate’s dad works with (Y/N)’s father Frank, and they don’t get on good terms (either because of her father’s disorder or because of Frank being given Kate’s dad’s hours for “mandatory overtime” only Frank has to do). Maybe because Kate’s dad hates (Y/N)’s father, Kate hates (Y/N)?

(Y/N)’s eyes glanced over at the girls who were with Kate. Jen and Shell; though their real names were Jenny and Shelly. They were sisters, but honestly they’re pretty irrelevant in (Y/N)’s eyes. She just couldn’t bother to care enough about them since they didn’t speak much. Their current goal in life is to piggyback off of Kate, but maybe in the future they’ll mature and go their own separate paths—that at least make’s (Y/N) a little happy for change.

“I wasn’t throwing up food. You took this out of context…” (Y/N) muttered, wiping her mouth with toilet paper.

“Right… looks like…” Kate took a few steps to the stall, standing behind (Y/N), making uncomfortable shivers crawl up her spine. “Looks like the cafeteria pizza. What? Are you saving it for dinner tonight?” Kate snarked before smiling. "I wouldn't be surprised if you were starving yourself. Everyone knows you tried to kill yourself—I think that's the best idea you've had in your miserable life."

In a small town like this, gossip gets around quick. One of her doctors or nurses were probably a parent to one of the kids here, so they let something slip. It breaches hospital code in keeping patient's confidential, but in a small town like this, there's not much consequences.

A flame of annoyance flickered in (Y/N) eyes, a boiling pit in her stomach. She stood up, dusting the rocks and dirt off her knees. She looked at Kate with distain, her eyes flickering towards Kate’s phone.

She could throw the stupid plastic flip-phone into the toilet and flush it down, but she decided against it. There were three girls against herself, so the odds of winning a fight are not in her favor at the moment. Besides, (Y/N)'s trapped inside the stall, so her escape options are limited in case she does start a fight. She could bulldoze her way between the three girls, but then again, that's three girls. She can't really crawl under the stall because someone can just grab her leg and pull her right back—so she's at a disadvantage to win a fight.

“We’re late for class.” (Y/N) sighed. “I recommend getting to class soon, otherwise Mr. Jones will throw a fit.

Kate glared at (Y/N) as she walked past them, muttering the smart words of “stupid bitch…”

(Y/N) made it out of the bathroom safely, and without a fight too.

Let them post that photo. (Y/N) thought, her footsteps echoing throughout the hallway. It’s not gonna be the end of the world. I’ve had worse.

I’ve had worse.

That’s always been the same stupid excuse she’s used whenever someone bad happens to her in life. She just can’t accept that she’s allowed to be angry, or sad, or afraid of anything; it’s always “I’ve had worse.”

She could fall down a set of stairs and ruin her science project she’s spent a month on, 70 bucks down the drain, but “I’ve had worse. At least I’m not admitted in a hospital room again.”

She could break her arm falling off one of her horse’s, but “I’ve had worse, at least I’m not starving.”

When will it be worse? What’s gonna top the next thing?

Because eventually, there’s gonna be something worse. There’s always something worse for (Y/N).

A notification pops up on her phone, prompting (Y/N) to check it.

“Online transfer: +$300”

“What the…?” she muttered, confused.

A minute later, another notification popped up.

“Withdrawal: -$300”

Ah, it must be one of her parents. Her parents has access to her banking accounts and information, so one of them must’ve accidentally sent money to the wrong account and quickly withdrew the payment.

She goes back to her classroom, receiving a stink eye from the teacher, Mr. Jones.

Mr. Jones also wasn’t a fan of (Y/N), well, more so her father. During the summer enrollment, you got to check out your classes and meet your teachers. Frank was absolutely livid to see a male as (Y/N)’s teacher. He was knocking down chairs and cussing a storm that the principal had to be brought down and threatened to call the cops if Frank didn’t leave.

It’s a miracle (Y/N) didn’t get expelled with some shitty excuse or something because of that scandal. Maybe that’s because this high school was the only one in their small town, and (Y/N) was about to graduate soon, so there would’ve been no point in trying to destroy her education when she’s so close to leaving.

“Well, look who decided to show up.” Mr. Jones spoke, placing his dry eraser marker down, halting the learning of the classroom. “Wanna tell the class what was so important that you just had to skip the first ten minutes of my class?”

(Y/N) resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She missed the days where elementary teachers would get down on your level and whisper to you so you wouldn’t get embarrassed in front of the class.

Or maybe she just wants to be coddled like a child…

“I’m sorry, sir. I had a period problem.” (Y/N) lied.

She had no shame or embarrassment, not with lying, and not talking about her body functions either. She was a human with a uterus, so if the teacher had a problem with then, then the school will too (or, at least they should).

“Oh.” Mr. Jones scoffed, not entirely convinced. “Nice save. But if it happens again next week, I’ll be onto you.”

Yeah, he wouldn’t dare go against the teaching board. Even if he did, the student body of females would protest; (Y/N) may not be the most popular, but when it comes to woman functions, girls got each other’s back.

Or they should.

“Go take your seat.” Mr. Jokes spoke.

(Y/N) walked down the row of students, jumping over Ben’s foot as he tried to trip her. She made it to her desk safely in the back of the class.

Mr. Jones assigned the seats, perhaps he assigned her in the back so he wouldn’t see her father and be reminded of her father. Or maybe he just doesn’t like her in general.

(Y/N) sat down in her seat, confused to see someone had taken the desk next to her. That desk was always empty due to how small the student body was. It was a small town after all, so there were always empty seats in classrooms.

She recognized those brown eyes—it was the boy from her church.

She was surprised. He was never in her class before until now.

She decided to look away before he caught her staring, but he was watching her to begin with, ever since she walked into the classroom.

“Hey, I’ve seen you around before.” The boy spoke, looking at her. “You’re (Y/N), right?”

Damn it. She has to talk with a boy? Out of all the other females around?

“Um… yeah…” (Y/N) nodded awkwardly. “How do you know my name?”

“We go to church together.” He smiled. “I’m Ren. Ren Itami.”

“Japanese?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Yeah. My parents moved here from Japan when they had me.” The boy, Ren, nodded.

“Cool…” (Y/N) muttered, figuring the conversation was done, before Ren spoke again.

“I just transferred classes today. My other teacher wasn’t good at teaching in a way I could understand, so it was only hindering my education.” Ren explained.

“I see…” (Y/N) hummed, not too interested in what else he had to say.

So that’s why he’s in her class now. Still, she doesn’t want to talk with him. Just talking with this guy gives her the chills, but she just can’t understand why.

A month or two has passed, (Y/N)’s not too sure how long it’s been actually, days always seem to blend together now. She goes to school, does her chores on the farm, then studies for college.

She’s been busting her ass for a nursing school she’s been dreaming to go to; the best news is that in freshmen year, the school reached out to her after she scored top grades in her biology and health classes. They offered her a fully-paid scholarship, including dorm renting and free cafeteria food!

With a scholarship like that, you’re damn right she’s studying hard.

It was passing period, the hallways bustling with students as people made their way from class to class. Some kids stopped and stared at (Y/N), much to her annoyance.

Her father had an episode in town again, muttering something about being followed by a man. He filed police reports, but they ignored him per usual as this was a case they’ve reported about before, only to be a waste of time as there’s no evidence to prove it.

Frank got angry at his reports being ignored, so he stared yelling inside the police department, which quickly remained in him spending overnight in jail until he’s calmed down and no longer a threat to himself or others. He didn’t get any charges filed against him due to his medical condition, so he got lucky.

Of course, if Frank is a nut show, then his daughter must be a nut show too. That’s the logic around this town.

Well, at least Lola and Annabelle didn’t think like that. They were (Y/N)’s true friends.

“I swear, nobody can mind their damn business anymore.” Annabelle gruffed, more annoyed about the situation than (Y/N) was.

“It’s fine, Annabelle. Things just happen.” (Y/N) spoke.

“Hey, it’s seriously not fine.” Lola scoffed. “You shouldn’t be treated like this. It’s not like you control what your dad does.”

“If anyone messes with you, I’ll punch them.” Annabelle smiled.

“Don’t bother…” (Y/N) hummed. “We have like… one more month until graduation. There’s no point.”

But alias, problems always seem to occur for (Y/N). As she walked down the hallway, a shoulder bumped into her roughly, causing her to stagger before turning around.

“Freak.” Ben sang, smirking as he walked by her.

“What’s his problem all the time?” Lola scoffed, glaring at the boy.

(Y/N) let out a sigh to calm her nerves, annoyed, before moving past it—but Ben wasn’t just ready to move on.

“Hey. I’m talking to you, freak.” Ben scoffed, walking back towards her.

“Leave me alone, asshole.” (Y/N) hissed.

“Make me.” Ben challenged, pushing her.

“Hey, fuck off!” Lola exclaimed, to which Ben ignored her.

“Stop. It.” (Y/N) spoke through gritted teeth, and for once, pushing him back harder.

“What the—“ Ben huffed, surprised, before he quickly pushed her with more force.

“Ben, st—“ Annabelle was cut off, shocked as (Y/N) threw a punch to his face.

“Fuck you, Ben!” (Y/N) exclaimed, shoving him away from her by using her shoulder.

Her legs shook, adrenaline and fear pumping through her veins, her fists clenching and unclenching as she realized what she just did. She’s done it now.

Ben touched the side of his face, shocked as it swelled, before his fist balled up. A crowd formed around them, watching to see what will go down, holding their flip phones in their hands.

Before he could land a punch, some stepped out of the crowd and grabbed Ben’s arm, pinning him up against the wall.

“You shouldn’t hit a lady.” The third party spoke.

“Ren?” (Y/N) questioned, surprised.

“Get off me!” Ben barked, squirming under Ren’s hold.

Ren had appeared so fast, it was like he was here the whole time.

“T-thanks.” (Y/N) spoke, taking a few shaky steps backwards, before forcing her away out of the crowd of students, making her way to the nearest trash can and throwing up.

“Ugh… damn it…” she muttered, knowing she was done for, for real this time as people recorded her.

Yep. Sounds about right for (Y/N), just her luck.

She scanned the crowd, unsure exactly what she was looking for. Her eyes met his bright brown ones, before she closed her own.

I really hate being alive… she thought.

. (Y/N) had got called into the principal’s office later that day along with Ben. Some other students were there to recall the events and explain their side of the story, including Ren.

It really didn’t matter who was at fault, both of them got suspended under the excuse: “We don’t condone any sort of violence during school premises.”

You can just say that you don’t want the backlash from the bully’s parents and their friends. (Y/N) thought to herself, but she kept that thought in the hatch.

The walk back home hurt. The whole day she had trembling legs and shaky hands, it seemed every hour she was near a trash can throwing up. She was severely dehydrated, light headed, and really just wanted to go home and cry in the shower.

It was a hot day, making the walk home worse. Because of how big her family’s farm was, she lived on the outskirts of town, making her walk longer. The town didn’t have any public transportation due to how small the town was, the buses would’ve clogged up all the morning rush hour traffic where adults try to get to work on time, so buses weren’t a thing in their town.

There was sweat dripping down her forehead, her back uncomfortably wet as her backpack dragged down her posture, and she wanted nothing more but to just give up. Give up walking, give up life—practically the same thing.

She made it to her house and unlocked the gate, seeing a figure sitting in her family’s rocking chair on the porch. The figure noticed her, before it stood up, running towards her.

(Y/N) removed her backpack straps and threw it on the ground, before running and meeting the figure, engulfing them in a hug.

“Papa.” She whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes, the sun burning the top of her head.

“Oh, (Y/N). I got a call from the school. What were you thinkin'? Fightin' against a boy? You know boys are stronger than girls!” Frank spoke, quickly letting go of her as he looked at her hands and face for any marks.

“I’m fine, he didn’t hurt me.” (Y/N) spoke. “But he started it! He pushed me first so I pushed back!”

“He touched you?” Frank gasped. “What a freak! Boys nowadays need to learn some manners and keep their hands to themselves.”

“I was so scared, Papa.” (Y/N) sniffled, wiping the tears and snot off her face.

“Oh, I bet.” Frank sighed, placing his hand on her shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go inside. There’s a fresh pitcher of tea waitin’ for you.”

(Y/N) nodded, picking her backpack up off the ground and following him back inside the house.

Her mother sat in her loveseat, watching the news on the TV. She turned her attention at the door, before motioning for (Y/N) to come over and sit on the couch across from her.

“Frank, those blueberries should be in season to now. Could you go harvest them?” Rose ordered, finding an excuse for Frank to leave.

“Sorry, sport.” Frank sighed, patting (Y/N)’s shoulder, before walking out the door.

“I got a call from your principal today…” Rose started, crossing her legs. “Do you wanna explain yourself?”

“I’m sorry.” (Y/N) started. “I got in a fight with Ben in the hallway. He pushed me, so I pushed him back, so he pushed me harder and I just got upset and punched him…”

“Jeez, (Y/N)… What are you? A animal?” Rose scoffed. “You’re a lady. You don’t hit people. And you especially don’t under the eyes of the Lord. Seriously, what’s wrong with you?”

“I was just defending myself! He’s picked on me before!” (Y/N) defended.

“So? You go to the principal’s office and report it.” Rose retorted.

“But Ma, they don’t listen to me. They don’t like our family.” (Y/N) spoke. “They think we’re cursed. Or were sinners in another life!”

“That’s nonsense. Everyone loves us. Everyone loves our products. We’re devoted followers of our Lord. How could they not love us?” Rose snapped, not seeming to believe it.

“It’s because we’re freaks, Ma!” (Y/N) exclaimed, hitting her hands on her lap. “We’re major freaks! They constantly talk bad about us! We’re always invited last for our community gatherings! Papa is always getting mandatory overtime but no payment, yet everyone else doesn’t have that overtime! We’re constantly being sneered at in public! The kids at my school harass me, but you don’t care because it doesn’t affect you!”

“(Y/N), you can go to your—“

“Do you know what they say about you, Mama?” (Y/N) questioned, her fists shaking as she spoke. “They think you’re a selfish, narcissistic, and hypocritical woman. They think you sold your soul to the devil to inherit your parents’ wealth.”

“Who?” Rose gasped, her jaw dropped.

“Everyone.” (Y/N) hissed. “They think Papa’s a freak because they don’t understand him. They don’t know what he’s going through. They think I’m a freak because I’m your daughter!”

“Well, you know what? I’ve had enough of you. You’ve been acting like a freak lately!” Rose spoke, standing up from her seat. “What’s with you? Is it that college? Is that college stressin’ you out with your studies? I told you that the city isn’t for you but you never listen to me! Is it your father’s stupid paranoid delusions? He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Don’t listen to him!”

“He knows more than you do!” (Y/N) shouted. “And that college is the only thing in my life that will keep me away from you!”

“Go to your room, now! Go straight to bed! Don’t even expect supper tonight!” Rose shouted back, her voice louder—it was always louder compared to hers.

(Y/N) had no problem with that, it’s not like that wasn’t her first time being forced to skip a meal. Besides, there's nothing too great about pre-packaged meals. Rose rarely cooks, and Frank is either always working in the auto shop or on the farm. It's been that way since she was a kid, so school lunches were basically a miracle for her when she entered school. Breakfast and lunch five days a week? That's better than no meals every day of the week! Or at least one every other day.

She quickly took her backpack with her and walked to her room, resisting the urge to slam the door shut. She shut her door (gently) and walked to the bathroom, turning on the shower faucet and stripping off her school uniform. She sat down on the shower floor, feeling more tears well up in her eyes.

“This fucking sucks…” she gritted through her teeth.

She sat there for some time, before finally getting up and washing up. She dried herself off, before picking out some pajamas and changing into them.

She walked back to her room and sat down on her bed for a while. She was tired after today’s events, all that crying and puking and yelling really got to her. She should at least drink some water, but right now she really couldn’t be bothered.

There was a knock on her door, before the door opened.

“Hey, kid. You doin’ okay?” Frank questioned, popping his head into the room.

“No… not really…” (Y/N) sighed.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he questioned.

(Y/N) took a moment to think, before nodding. “Yeah. I think so.”

Frank walked into the room, sitting down on the bed. He sat down on the edge, waiting patiently for (Y/N) to talk.

“I-I just feel so out of place…” (Y/N) sighed. “I mean, I don’t even know what I do but they hate me, and I don’t know why. I mean, I know I’m not the most prettiest or—“

“Hey, stop that.” Frank spoke up. “Don’t beat yourself up like that. You’re one of the prettiest girls out there, and that’s not just cause you’re my daughter.” Frank explained. “You’re a (L/N). We (L/N)’s may have shit luck, but you know what? We always get back up. And we know what’s true and what’s not.”

“You don’t have to be pretty to be liked. You don’t have to be anything for people to like you. It’ll come naturally over time as you meet some great people.” Frank explained. “Problem isn’t you, it’s society. You shouldn’t have to change yourself to fit societal norms, and you shouldn’t have to beat yourself up over it either. We just live in a shitty town with shitty people; but that doesn’t define society as a whole. There’s still good out there.”

“You know what they say: everythin' happens for a reason. Right now, you’re just waitin' for your moment to shine, and when you shine; you’ll be a damn star.” Frank smiled, patting her back.

“Thank you, Papa.” (Y/N) smiled.

“Now, is there anything else making you upset?” Frank questioned.

(Y/N) took a second to think about it. Everything he’s been saying was right; it’s not that she’s bad, it’s that the people in her town are so close-minded, judging people because they don’t match their beliefs or act a little different from others.

“Would you be upset if I left the farm?” (Y/N) questioned. “I’ve talked about it before, about getting a scholarship to this really good med school, but would it make you mad that I’d be leaving the farm behind? Leaving you and mama behind?”

“(Y/N), there should never be a time in your life where you have to choose between your happiness and someone else’s.” Frank spoke. “You should always choose yourself first.”

“But wouldn’t that just be that selfish?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Are you kiddin'? You’re leavin' behind thousands, maybe even millions, of dollars this farm gained over the generations!” Frank laughed. “That’s pretty selfless if you ask me.”

“Ah, you know what I mean, Papa.” (Y/N) chuckled, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Think of it this way. You’re goin' to wake up to yourself, you’re goin' to shower with yourself, you’re goin' to eat meals with yourself, you’re goin' to go to work with yourself, take spa days, go shoppin', run errands, and go back to sleep in the same bed—all with yourself. Everyone else in life comes and goes; coworkers, friends, lovers, even me.” Frank explained. “Put yourself first because it’s your life. There should never be a period in your time where you feel the need to sacrifice your happiness. If you’re not happy, you’re not livin'; you’re existin'. It’s plain and simple. It's only selfish if you're in a position to help someone in need, but you don't help them despite bein' stable to."

“I… guess you’re right, yeah.” (Y/N) nodded, smiling.

“But if you plan to have kids, then you’re gonna have to make sacrifices. You can’t just make some kids and expect that to be over, there’s a lot more than just that.” Frank chuckled. “But hey, that’s a whole other story for when you’re older. Don’t you dare be tryin' to get pregnant at your age.”

“I won’t, Papa. I promise.” (Y/N) giggled, shaking her head at her father’s antics.

She surprisingly felt a lot better now. Life didn’t feel so bad anymore, who knew a little speech was all she needed to feel better.

But in realty, it was really just her father sacrificing his positive energy to give to her. He may not be the ideal father, and he may not remember everything he does or remain in control of himself sometimes, but she knew this was her father Frank—not the monster or the sinner her town thought he was.

“I heard your mom isn’t letting you eat dinner, I can sneak some in here?” Frank suggested.

“Nah, I’m really not that hungry.” (Y/N) shook her head.

I might just throw it up anyways… she thought.

“Just making sure.” Frank chuckled. “Oh, hey. You wouldn’t happen to know where that hole in the face came from, would you?”

“What hole?” (Y/N) inquired.

“While I was harvestin' those blueberries your mom told me to fetch, I noticed a square hole in the fence, at the bottom of the fencin'. It looks like some wire pliers or somethin'.” Frank spoke. “I told your damn mom we should invest in some sturdier fencin', but she’s so persistent in wantin' that cheap fencin' that we can easily move out of the way in case we expand the farm more.” He sighed.

“No, I wasn’t aware there was a hole in the fence.” (Y/N) spoke honestly, surprised.

“Ah, must be someone tryna deal my damn chickens. Nobody is takin' Charlotte from me.” Frank huffed, crossing his arms.

Charlotte was practically Frank’s pet hen. Charlotte was born in domestically at her farm, she was smaller than the other chicks and had a white fluffy spot on her back. Charlotte has some serious attitude for something that’s easy to fry up.

“I’ll just go to town and replace the fencin' tomorrow. I don’t want any damn coyotes or foxes trying to get ‘em.” Frank sighed, before standing up from the edge of the bed.

“Thank you for talking with me, Papa. I needed it.” (Y/N) smiled.

“Hey, it’s the least I can do.” Frank smiled, before ruffling her hair, causing her to giggle.

“Night, sport. Just remember, I’m proud of you no matter what you do in life.” Frank smiled, opening her bedroom door.

(Y/N) smiled at the reassurance. “I love you, Papa.”

“I love ya too, (Y/N).” He smiled. “Get some rest now.” He spoke, before closing the door behind him.

(Y/N) crawled under her covers and smiled, glad to have talked about her feelings. She didn’t feel as alone as she did earlier.

She closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of the cicadas outside, and the snapping twigs of a bunny or raccoon nearby her window.

(Y/N) woke up feeling a bit more happier and relaxed than usual. She at least woke up in a good mood, the effects of last night's talk still lingering with her as she stood up. She did a small stretch to get her blood pumping, before walking over to her drawers to find clothes for herself. She opened up her drawers to grab a pair of socks for today, before feeling something weird.

What is that?

She pulled out a paper folded in fours, but her heart dropped when she saw red splotches on the piece. She quickly folded open the paper, reading the contents.

"My love, how utterly divine you are. I've taken care of that nuisance for you, are you proud of me? I couldn't stand how he touches you, how he wishes to harm you, when a beauty like you should be absolutely adored. He won't be a problem for you anymore, nobody will ever be a problem to you. You're like an angel, and all I wish to do is protect you from the evil in this world. I want to serve you and be your faithful prophet, your only follower. You saved me, let me save you now. See you soon, my love."

It was printed sugar paper with typed letters printed on it, and dried blood spots on the paper. That wasn't in her drawer last night, someone broke into her house.

It felt like she stopped breathing, a ringing inside her ears as her head felt fuzzy. She dropped the bloodied paper, taking a few shaky steps, before running to the bathroom and throwing up in the toilet.

You would think she'd have nothing in her stomach to throw up, but you'd be wrong. Whenever she gets scared, a nauseating feeling takes over and she can't help but empty her stomach.

She coughed and wiped her mouth with toilet paper, taking another piece of toilet paper and wiping the snot and tears off her face.

Who the hell could've sent her that note? Who the hell broke into her house and planted that?

Another thought stuck her. Just how long have they been watching her? What else is planted in her house?

That thought pushed her up off the ground, scurrying back to her bedroom. She tore her bedroom apart, searching every nook and cranny. She even went as far as to check every single clothing item she owned. She found a small microphone inside one of her ceiling light bulbs; no wonder the room looked brighter, her soft yellow lights were replaced with white LED's and she didn't even realize it! She even dismantled a part of her alarm clock, finding a small camera there. And she found another small camera in the eye of one of her old collector dolls that sat perched on her shelf.

After another trip to the bathroom to puke, she did a quick sweep around her bathroom, finding another microphone in her bathroom lightbulb and a camera inside the shower head; hence resulting in her throwing up again. She grabbed all the cameras and lightbulbs, placing them in a large ziplock bag for evidence, before placing the note in a separate ziplock bag.

(Y/N) sat on her bed for a moment, trying to wrack her brain on why this was happening. Why her? What this a nightmare? Who the hell would choose (Y/N) to stalk? It must be a sick joke, right? Nobody would write her a love confession, that's never happened in her life! She's close to nobody except Annabelle and Lola, and they would never do this! Kate hates her, and Ben's most likely still pissed off at her for punching him. There's nobody else in her life who's been around her recently except...

She grabbed her hair, tugging the ends to cope with the sick realization. It was Ren. That stupid, creepy brat with the stupid, creepy brown eyes that just bore right into her all the time. He's in her church, watching her every move like a hawk. He coincidentally transfers into her class a few months ago. He coincidentally steps in and saves her from Ben yesterday. It has to be him, there's nobody else!

Her throat was sore and burning, her eyes were exhausted and tired from crying, and she felt like she was about to tip over and faint. She opened her bedroom door, stumbling out into the hallway. Her father sat on the couch watching a baking show, while her mother sat reading a book on her loveseat. (Y/N) dragged herself into the living room, placing the ziplock bags onto the center table for them to speak.

"Papa. Mama. We need to call the police. Someone's watching me..."

The police were called down to the farm, talking to a clueless mother and father as they tried to gather evidence. The only evidence that could be found was the ziplock bags (Y/N) provided them. There were no signs of breaking in, but (Y/N) knew that was because of their own faults. They lived in a small, religious town, so everyone knew each other. They would've never expected anyone to break into their house, so it was common for people to leave their doors unlocked in their town. During the police investigation, they found a body inside the pig enclosure, the pigs feasting on the body of Ben Rivers. (Y/N) was immediately placed in custody and taken down to the police station to be questioned.

She refused to talk without a lawyer, but there weren't many lawyers inside of her small town, and her trial date was approaching rapidly. (Y/N) was being trialed for the possibility of first degree murder alongside tampering evidence, and (Y/N) was trying to file charges against Ren for stalking, trespassing, first degree murder, and frame up.

It took weeks for their small town court to final accept their case and get court hearings done. The word got around quick around town. If she felt isolated beforehand, well she certainly felt so now. As luck would have her, Ren was popular in school and in town. He actively attended and volunteered in church, he had stellar grades, and a perfect social image.

That's the only damn thing he has against her, a good social image. It's so unfair. Why is she punished for what others do? She didn't choose to be Frank's daughter, she didn't choose to be next inheritor of Rose's family farm.

Please, as if that was a good excuse, a part of it is her fault too. She was the one that tried killing herself. She was the one that sang the quietest during the church's hymens. She was the one that never bothered to stand out and do extracurricular activities like Annabelle and Lola do. By isolating herself, she's practically doomed herself in this case.

(Y/N) resisted the urge to play with her thumbs as she sat in front of the judge. She wore a white blouse with a black blazer, wearing a pencil skirt and black tights with black flats. Rose said that it would show she's sophisticated and respected, but (Y/N) felt like she was wearing the outfit to her own funeral.

She practically avoided Ren's eyes the whole session, not wanting to see what stupid "innocent" face he'll have on that damn face of his to sway the whole court. He sat in one of the seats behind her, just feeling everyone's eyes (including his) on her sent shivers down her spine. She was currently being tried for first degree murder and tampering with the evidence, but (Y/N) knows that's not true.

Surely they'll believe her, there were literally cameras and microphones in her room! There's practically nobody else that'll do this to her!

"With all the evidence and statements taken into consideration, we the court, find (Y/N) (L/N) guilty of first-degree murder."

Her heart practically dropped at that. How could this happen?

"With all the evidence and statements taken into consideration, we the court, find (Y/N) (L/N) guilty of tampering and trying to rid the body of Ben Rivers."

She tried to open her mouth to speak, but it felt like no words were going to come out. If she kept her mouth open any longer, she might just cry instead.

"(Y/N) (L/N) will serve 20 years, with no chance of parole." The judge decided. "Is there anything you wish to say, Ms. (L/N)?"

"How could you turn your back against justice?" she questioned, her bottom lip trembling. "I'm innocent. He framedme! Tell me how those cameras got into my house! How those microphones appeared!"

"According to receipts on a shopping site, you spent nearly $300 dollars purchasing two cameras and two lightbulb microphones, and had them shipped to a public park. It was purchased under your name and debit card."

(Y/N)'s face paled, her hands shaking. No, she didn't do that. Ren must've stolen it. He must've framed her!

"Around that same time, Ben Rivers, the man you killed, also happened to lose his wallet that was reported to have at least $300 in his words." The judge explained, reading a paper in their hands. "It was also during that time that you fought Mr. Rivers at your public high school, which provoked the murder. With this evidence, you not only premeditated the murder by buying the technology and trying to get rid of the body, but also tried framing the murder itself."

"B-but the note? Where did that come from?" (Y/N) questioned.

"There was no forensic evidence on the letter except for your finger oils, and the dried blood of Ben Rivers. The note was typed so you could hide your handwriting." The judge explained.

"No, no! It was typed! Anyone could've typed that! Ren could've typed that!" (Y/N) tried to fight. "Please, this was a targeted attack! Ben was murdered! Mine and my family's lives are in danger! This didn't just happen out of the blue, it was planned by someone that wasn't me! It was Ren, it has to be!"

"With the evidence of online receipts found under your name and debit card, the forensic evidence of your finger oils after you supposedly found the note in your clothing drawer, the finding of Ben Rivers body in your family farm, the previously shown hostility you've shown against Ben Rivers in the past; it is with undeniable evidence that you are guilty of murdering and hiding the body of Ben Rivers." The judge spoke. "With all this said, (Y/N) (L/N) will serve 20 years in prison, no parole. Along with this sentencing, I hereby give the verdict that Ren Itami is not guilty of first-degree murder, of trespassing, of stalking, and of tampering with evidence."

"What?! No! That needs another trial! You can't do that!" (Y/N) exclaimed.

"Court dismissed!" the judge shouted, their voice echoing throughout the courtroom.

(Y/N) sat limp, staring at the table she was seated at.

It's all over. She thought, her vision blurring with tears as her ears rang.

She could make out her father yelling in the background of the ringing, but she didn't have the energy to look.

My life is over. She thought as the judicial security forced her up out of her seat, taking her away from her family.

She stood up, tripping over her feet as security forced her away. She was able to tilt her head to look at her parents, watching as Rose covered her face with her hands; either she was crying, or she was embarrassed. Frank was standing and animated, his hands moving all around as his mouth ran, but (Y/N) couldn't hear what he was saying.

(Y/N) forced her eyes to look around the courtroom. Most people didn't even seem shocked or surprised that it was "supposedly" her who killed Ben Rivers. A few emotional people cried, others filing out of the courtroom. She saw Annabelle and Lola here with their families, the girls' expressions looking betrayed and in disbelief.

She saw the family of Ben Rivers there. His little siblings sobbed, and his mother covered her mouth as she cried. The father was trying to comfort Ben's mother, but his eyes stared at her with nothing but hatred.

No, don't look at me that way. She thought. I didn't do it. I didn't!

He just needs some guidance. They all just need some guidance to know it wasn't her. It wasn't her!

She finally saw the man that put her in this position, her eyes meeting his bright brown ones. His black hair covered his eyes, but she knew damn well he was looking at her. His disgusting, blood-soaked hands were patting the shoulder of one of Ben's siblings.

No! Don't let him touch them, Ms. Rivers. She thought. Don't let him kill your other children too, Mr. Rivers!

She was led through door, before the security slammed the court door shut, leading her down a hallway where a police car awaited to take her to prison.

One week here, and she could barely get out of bed. She was taken to the town's small prison. There weren't toomany people here, so she was able to get her own cell. At least she wouldn't be sharing a cell with a freak.

Oh, who is she kidding? She'd be the freak they'd be cellmates with.

She stared at the food on the ground, not wanting anything to do with it. It's not even that it looked unappetizing, it's that she had absolutely no strength to eat.

Her life was over, everything she looked forward to in her future no longer existed. She was going to get out of this town, run away from the farm's responsibilities and inheritance, find a place that could accept her no matter who her family was, go to college, become a pediatric nurse and help other kids like her and more. Somewhere in that future, she could even get a chance at a happy relationship.

But that's over now. Nobody is going to love her now. Nobody is going to accept her now. When she gets out of jail, she'll be at least almost 40. How is somebody going to accept a convicted murderer, whether they did it or not? Who is really going to believe her? Jobs will turn her down, she'll be lucky to even score a job at a fast food joint.

It's all over now, so she might as well just die. Starve herself away. Or, at the very least, she'll try to the best of her abilities. Sooner or later, the guards will take her to the medical-treatment room, and they'll force a tube down her nose or mouth and feed her some crappy nutritional supplement whether she wants it or not. After that, she'll go to her cell, and she'll stick her finger down her throat and force all of that disgusting crap out of her body, speeding up her dehydrating process and just finally die. The only reason she's been drinking water is because it hurts to breathe without a moist throat. At least after a while, the starvation slowly stops to hurt, but dehydration just feels worse in her opinion.

There was a bang on her cell's bars but (Y/N) couldn't bother to look over, staring at the ceiling as she rested on her bed.

"Hey, (L/N). You got a visitor!" the guard spoke, though she really couldn't care.

She didn't bother responding to them, staying in the same spot as she refused to talk.

"If you don't get up, we'll just bring them here." The guard persisted, though (Y/N) remained uncaring.

She heard the guard's footsteps fade away, at least ten minutes going by as she listened to other inmates talking and screaming, some banging on their cells angrily.

Can't you fools tell it's pointless? (Y/N) thought.

She wondered how many others were here innocently. This whole damn situation, being in jail, nobody believing her; she was almost convinced that she was a sleeper agent. Or at least, she was guilty but couldn't remember. Why else would people not listen to her?

Footsteps echoed down the hallways, before they stopped in front of her cell. She mentally rolled her eyes, not having the energy to do so in person.

"Hello, (Y/N)." A voice spoke, almost smugly as they stood at her cell. "Did you miss me?"

(Y/N) immediately scrambled up from her spot, getting dizzy and falling on the ground for a few seconds, but she forced her way up off the ground and ran to the prison bars.

"Y-" she tried to speak, but her voice was hoarse.

She quickly ran to her table and grabbed a water bottle, practically chugging the whole thing before wiping her mouth. She ran back to the cell's bars, staring at them.

"Y-you son of a bitch!" she shouted, her voice raspy as she forced her hands through the bars and grabbed the collar of their shirt, slamming them up against the bars. "How dare you show your face to me? I'll kill you! I'll kill you!"

"My, how hostile. I'm just doing you a favor too!" he laughed.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Ren? What are you doing here?!" she shouted. "Was it not enough? Was ruining my life not enough for you?!"

"Calm down, my love. I'm not looking to harm you, honestly this all was my mistake." Ren laughed.

My love? My love? As in, the nickname that bloodied confession letter said?

So it was Ren. (Y/N) thought, almost sickeningly gleeful despite all the damage he's caused to her.

At least she knows she's not completely crazy.

"Fuck you and your mistakes." She hissed, her grip tightening on his collar. "I'll never forgive you for this."

"So feisty." Ren smiled. "I'm actually bailing you out. Shouldn't you be glad?"

"Bailing... me out?" she questioned, confused. "Why did you even get me in here in the first place?! Do you understand how damaged my reputation is now?!"

"Oh, please. It's not like it was good to begin with." He chuckled, causing her to glare at him. "I didn't mean for you to be held accountable for murder. Really, it was an honest mistake. I was just trying to cover my tracks, I didn't mean for that pesky body to have you end up in jail. It's a shame a pest like him is still causing you problems even after he's dead."

"Why didn't you just admit to the murder? Why did you have to involve me into it?" she questioned.

"Well, if I was in jail, I wouldn't be able to see you anymore, silly!" he laughed, his hands reaching out and holding her wrists as she held his collar. "You have such soft, delicate hands. An angel like you shouldn't be trapped in a nasty cage such as this."

"It wouldn't be so soft and delicate when I bash your head into the wall!" she hissed, ignoring his angel comment as she ripped her hands away from him, a new wave of anger hitting her as he had the audacity to touch her after everything he's done.

"Well now, I had to make sure you learned your lesson. I was originally going to let you have a month here in prison—but ah, but I couldn't stay separated from you for that long." He sighed longingly. "I figured a week must be enough for you to learn your lesson! I'm glad I came sooner though, it looks like you've been starving yourself!"

I would rather stay a month here and starve than after to see you. She thought, annoyed.

"You've learned your lesson, right?" he questioned.

"Die sooner?" she spoke sarcastically.

"I do love your humor dear, but now is not the time." He smiled.

"What? Not to cross you or some crap?" she scoffed, crossing her arms.

"Bingo! Aren't you so smart?" he cooed, his hands holding the cell bars as she backed up from him.

"Fuck off. I might as well just rot away here. My life is over now." She hissed, turning her head away from him.

"Oh, no. See, it doesn't work like that!" he smiled. "Whether you like it or not love, you're still being bailed out! So, you can either come with me, or live in the streets! Aren't I a better option?"

I'd rather be the next Oscar the Grouch than go anywhere he's going. (Y/N) thought to herself.

"So? What will it be?" Ren questioned.

"I want to be bailed out." (Y/N) responded. "And I want food."

"Sure, that can be done." Ren smiled. "Just as long as you promise one thing?"

"What is it?" she questioned, glaring at him suspiciously.

"Graduation is near. As soon as we graduate, I want you to come live with me and become my wife. We'll move out of state and have our own family! Unless you want to wait for kids, we can do that too." Ren smiled, as if the idea wasn't crazy.

"Excuse me?" she questioned.

"Yeah, kids are a bit too soon, huh?" Ren nodded, as if agreeing with an idea she didn't even say.

"I said excuse me! Not even a first date or something?" she spoke, shocked.

Well, she shouldn't expect much class from the guy that put cameras and microphones inside her bathroom and bedroom.

"On the way home we'll grab that lunch I promised you. Consider it a lunch date." He smiled.

(Y/N) resisted the urge to roll her eyes, before eventually agreeing. "Okay..." she nodded. "If you bail me out and get me lunch, I'll be your wife..." she spoke, her legs shaky at just the thought of actually agreeing to this ridiculous request.

It can't be that bad, right? It's better than 20 years in prison, right?

"Oh, good! I was worried I'd have to bail you out and kidnap you on the streets! That would be quite the hassle to try and hide you!" Ren laughed giddily. "I'll be right back! I'll go pay and have the guards unlock the cell for you! I even brought you an outfit!"

"Great..." (Y/N) muttered, not even bothering to force a smile.

(Y/N) looked around her cell for anything she wanted to take, but there was nothing that wasn't hers. She watched as the prison guard opened the door for her, a hateful glare on his face.

Understandably so, he's under the impression that she's a murderer of a teenage boy, and now she's being paid out of jail. No wonder he would stare at her in disgust, even if the true killer was the one standing right next to him.

(Y/N) stepped out of the cell, being handed a bag from Ren.

"There's some private bathrooms here, we can find one for you to change in." Ren explained.

(Y/N) nodded, silent as she followed Ren. They found a bathroom for her to change into, much to (Y/N)'s relief as she doesn't want to change inside of a cramped car with her stalker. Ren opened the door for her, about to walk in with her before she stopped him.

"Excuse me? No. I can change by myself." (Y/N) scoffed, stopping him with her arm.

"Hm? Why?" he questioned. "It's not like I haven't not seen any part of your body."

"Don't remind me, creep." (Y/N) hissed, a shiver running up her spine as he reminded her of the cameras. "You stay out! I'll just change really quick!"

"Fine, whatever you want." Ren sighed, disheartened.

(Y/N) closed the door behind her, triple-checking to make sure it was locked. She opened the bag that Ren gave her, mentally groaning at the outfit he chose.

She put on the outfit reluctantly, before grabbing the brush he left in the bag for her. She brushed out her hair, looking at herself in the mirror. She wore a white mid-thigh length sundress that Ren gave her, with strawberry patterns printed on the cloth, and frilly off-shoulder sleeves. She put on white flats that he left in the bag for her, and she refused to wear the questionable lace panties and matching bra. The outfit was cute, but she didn't like knowing it was something her stalker got for her. She'll probably throw the dress away in the trash later.

She walked out of the bathroom, looking at Ren.

"Ah, look at you! You look adorable!" Ren cooed. "Spin for me."

"No." (Y/N) stated firmly, a flash of annoyance crossing her face at his audacity.

"Maybe next time." He laughed, before leading her to an office area.

He signed her out, and (Y/N) shortly received her personal items they held onto. She had the outfit she came to the prison with, along with her phone. She checked her phone's battery, seeing it was at 0%. The battery must've slowly been draining while she was held here.

"Ready to go, my love?" he questioned, holding his hand out for her.

"Die." She snapped, walking past him.

How could he act like this? How could he act like he did nothing wrong after he broke into her house and placed cameras and microphones into her private living space? How could he have the audacity to make her take his fall, then bail her out and tell she must've learned her lesson.

Of course she's learned. She's learned that she's going to get as far away from him as possible, no matter what. It doesn't matter when, one day, she'll escape him. Like hell she'll be his wife.

Ren laughed at her hostility, making a comment about "how cute she is when she's upset." He was acting as if he was dealing with a fussy toddler.

Ren guided her to his car, causing her to halt and rethink her decisions. She was going to be alone in an enclosed space with a man, a man who has done nothing but destroy her life. Ren looked at her expectantly, refusing to get in the car until she does first.

He's making sure he can quickly catch her if she tries to run from him.

(Y/N) sighed, before hesitantly opening the car door and getting in, closing the door. She tested the door handle to see if it'd open, but it was child-locked, she realized. If she wanted out of the car, Ren would have to unlock the doors and walk around to open the door for her.

Damn it, he's smart.

(Y/N) frowned, watching as Ren hopped inside of the driver seat. He turned the car on and smiled at her, opening his mouth to speak, before she interrupted him.

"Food." She spoke, buckling her seatbelt for safety (even if she would rather be in a car accident instead of hanging out with her stalker).

Before he could question where or what, she added on.

"Steak. Go to a steakhouse." She ordered, crossing her arms.

"You seem to know what you want." He chuckled, smiling.

"I haven't eaten in a week. Now drive." She snapped.

"Whatever you want." Ren hummed, pulling out of the parking lot and driving.

She looked around Ren's car, not noticing anything out of the ordinary except for the man himself.

"So, what do you see in me?" she questioned.

"Excuse me?" he questioned.

"ExCuSe Me." She mocked, let out a scoff of disbelief. "You heard me, jackass. You stalked me. You killed Ben. Why?"

"Let's save that for our wedding vows, yeah?" Ren smiled. "Don't worry. You won't have to wait long."

(Y/N) looked over at him nervously, before letting out a defeated sigh, instead focusing her attention outside of the window to avoid his predatory gaze.

Just like he promised, he returned her back home after paying for lunch. He requested for her to keep him bailing her out as a secret, to which she hesitantly agreed.

(Y/N) returned to her family's farm, rushing inside and hugging her father and mother. She made up a stupid lie saying that her good behavior let her get released, though they probably knew that wasn't the truth; however, they certainly didn't care if it was the truth or not.

Everything might've seemed resolved now, but that was far from the case. The news of (Y/N) being convicted and released made the news and headlines. It was (Y/N)'s first day of school and she sat in the bathrooms during lunch, hiding away from the rest of the world in the stall.

Annabelle and Lola are no longer her friends. "We can't be friends with a murderer, whether you say you did it or not, the evidence leads to you." they told her. There wasn't a Ben to try and push her in the hallways, or to try and trip her in biology class. Mr. Jones couldn't even come up with a dry comment to say to her.

It seemed like everyone was busy taking pictures or recording her. There were pictures of her mugshot taped onto her locker, and newspapers with the highlighted words "murderer" taped on it too. There were posts on social media questioning why she was back and how they could let a murderer escape.

She would rather be known as a freak than a murderer any day.

And the worst part? People sympathized with Ren. They were whispering about how sorry they were that he had to see the girl who "tried" to accuse him of killing Ben and stalking (Y/N).

It hurt losing her best friends from middle school. It hurt losing her social image, even if it wasn't much. It hurt being an accused murderer. It hurt hearing the rumors that her family's wealth and connections to the Devil is how she got out of prison.

It hurt being known, but not known at the same time.

She constantly looked at the posts the media had of her. She didn't know how to feel; angry, sad, disappointed, afraid? People are just making assumptions of what they heard and know, they don't know that Ren is the real murderer tormenting her. They don't know anything.

People whispered in the hallways and classes about her.

"I heard that she tried framing Ren because he rejected her confession."

"I heard she was the killer all along. I mean, who gets a love letter placed in their drawers and doesn't know about it? Sounds pretty suspicious."

"She got bailed out because of her mommy's money. She can't even accept responsibility for her own crimes."

"She sure looks like a killer, all quiet and creepy. I didn't even know who she was until now."

Even if Ben's bullying stopped, Kate's didn't. She only got more physical. What used to be verbally assaults was replaced with milk spilt on her head and cigarette burns on her scarred arms.

When will it be enough? She questioned the universe.

Never.

But the worst part? God, the worst part must be that bastard's face. (Y/N) constantly checked her room everyday to make sure there were no cameras or light bulbs, so Ren gave up trying to install more. Even though he stopped his 24/7 supervision of her, he constantly visited her at night, keeping her up by knocking at her window until she opened it so that he could talk her ear off about how pretty she was, and how excited he was to be her husband, and how close graduation was coming until he'd take her away from here.

He kept writing his stupid confession letters to her, about how much of an "angel" she was, and how utterly divine her beauty was. He used sugar paper to write on, and he used a dark red ink pen to write with. It was like he was taunting her by choosing red, reminding her of the spilt blood that stained the first confession he gave her. It was like he was reminding her that nobody believes her, that in everyone else's eyes she killed Ben.

She would grab the letters and burn them on her father's grill outside. It didn't matter trying to prove herself with the letters, nobody would believe her anyways. All she cared about was tearing the papers, stomping them on the ground and burning them into embers that flew in the air. Even burnt paper was more free than her. She wanted to destroy the evidence of Ren in her life. She wanted to destroy his love for her, but he just wouldn't give up.

Even her own mother believed she was a murderer. Rose told her one day while doing the dishes that she should be ashamed of herself, and that she should've at least tried blaming the murder on someone who was more less known and a weirdo. Rose couldn't dare think that Ren did such a thing, not when Ren was such a respectful boy who attended church and participated in volunteer work. At least her father believed her, but it felt like he always had to remind her what happened, to never go outside alone, to never leave the farm. She wasn't even sure if her father actually believed her, or if he was mixing his persecutory delusions when he experienced episodes into (Y/N)'s life. It drove her mad, she felt her already poor mental health deteriorating into something worse.

The church kicked out her entire family from ever stepping foot on the premises. Not only was she isolated from her hometown, friends, and society; but not even church would wash away the "sins" she committed.

Her grades were slipping. Her studies were failing. Her sanity was dropping.

Everything just looked like a weapon for her to use against herself or another.

Why should she eat food? Why should she drink water? Why should she take a shower? Why should she live?

One week before graduation. One week before Ren would whisk her away from this hell of a town, and give her a new hell as his wife.

She was admitted into the hospital for a stomach pump and to sew up her wrists after having another failed suicide attempt. It's been a couple years since she last tried to kill herself, but after all the events that happened, it only seemed like the most reasonable thing to do. She had tried overdosing on pills and cutting deep into her wrists so she could bleed out, but her father came home from work early. He made it a habit to always checked up on her after work, so when he saw her unconscious on the ground with blood on her arms and empty pill bottles around her body, he grabbed Rose and made her apply a towel and pressure to (Y/N)'s wrists while he sped through town to get her to the ER. She made it out alive, much to her dismay.

She sucked at living. She sucked at trying to find happiness. She sucked at trying to die. Wasn't there anything she was good at except being a punching bag?

The hospital made her take multiple tests during her time there. She had to answer a lot of paper tests asking about her health, and she had to take tests involving her nervous system. She was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, exactly what her father has and is why he's shunned from society. She was also diagnosed with manic depression as a follow-up for her bipolar disorder.

It clicked in her head then and there. She'll never be fine. She'll never escape these emotions. She'll always be a freak, and the daughter of a freak. She'll always be the daughter codependent on mommy's money. The realization made her sob, try to suffocate herself with her pillow. She was placed under suicide watch inside the hospital, and she was kept for three days, when the doctors finally decided to let her go.

As always, word got around in school, and more rumors spread. The constant whispers, the constant feeling of eyes watching her, they were all looking at her, they were all watching her just like Ren. It was too much.

Why was she being punished for simply just existing? Even when she tries to take her life, they still look down on her.

She had her scholarship to her dream med school denied after the newspaper headlines made way to them. They sent an email about how they couldn't accept a mentally ill scholar to care for others in need. All the other colleges she applied for wouldn't accept her either.

Everything was taken from her now. She had absolutely nothing to look forward to now. How can you possibly live if you have nothing to live for?

Ren was knocking at her window again tonight. Tomorrow was graduation, tomorrow was going to be her final day free from him.

Go away. She pleaded. Please, just leave me alone.

After one too many knocks on her window, she finally walked over to the window, ripping it open and jumping out the window, tackling him and pulling down to the ground. She got up on top of him and started punching his face.

"Fuck you, Ren! Fuck you! You ruined my future! You ruined my life!" she cried, her fists hitting anything on his face, before it hurt too much to punch him anymore.

When her fists stop hitting him, he looked up at her with a sickeningly sweet smile.

"My love, I'm so proud of you for communicating your feelings with me." He cooed, his hands moving up and holding her shaking hands.

"I want to die. I want to die." She cried, her figure shaking as tears dropped on his bloodied face.

"So that's where these scars came from..." Ren muttered, running his fingers along her stitches. "My love, why must you cut your wings? If you cut too deep, you'll lose your ability to fly!"

"I don't wanna fly. I just want to die." She spoke through tears.

"I never wanted you to waste a drop of your blood. I only want mine to spill..." he spoke, his fingers going from her arms to her thighs, trying to soothe her, but the feeling only made her feel worse.

"Don't touch me! I'll kill you!" she shouted.

It’d be such an honor dying by your hands. To feel your skin on mine. Please, tell me how you’ll kill me? Will it be slow or long? Use me as you wish and dispose of me!” he laughed, taunting her as he fed into her fantasies, as if the idea was actually entertaining to him.

No. She doesn't want to kill him. She doesn't want to touch him if he'll just enjoy it and act like a masochistic freak. She just wants him to disappear from her life.

"Please, please just let me go. Please just let me die. I can't. I can't do this." (Y/N) begged. "Just let me go. Please."

"I'm sorry, but you're mine, angel. I can't live without you." He frowned. "Finders keepers."

(Y/N) cried, slapping his hands off her thighs. She stood up off his bleeding figure, climbing back into her bedroom window.

"I'll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, my love!" he smiled, blood leaking out of his mouth.

She ignored his words, shutting her window and locking it. She walked to her bathroom and washed her hands off in the sink, before crawling into her bed and crying herself to sleep.

It was graduation day, but she felt anything but excited. It's not like a high school diploma would fix everything in her life.

However, depending on how she plays this out, she just might be able to escape this.

She received her diploma on stage, with little to nobody except her parents clapping (Ren was in line, but he wasn't going to clap for the girl who "tried to frame him for murder"). She quickly exited the stage, sneaking out of the ceremony and running out to the parking lot. She hopped into her car and drove away.

For weeks she's planned this out. She sold her phone and laptop in case there was any tracking malware installed by Ren, buying a new phone and laptop. She gave her parents her phone number and told them not to give her number to absolutely anyone. She checked all over her car, inside and outside, looking at every nook and cranny inside the engine and outside for any airtags or tracking devices. She packed up all her clothes and important essentials, putting them in luggage and shoving it into her car. She closed all her old bank accounts and opened new ones now that she was 18, bank accounts her family or nobody else could access, transferring all her money into said accounts. She only had a few hundred bucks, and she refuses to stoop so low as to ask her parents for money (she does not want to be indebted to Rose). She said her goodbyes to her parents this morning, knowing she won't see them after the graduation. She even found Ren's car in the parking lot before the ceremony and slashed all his tires so he couldn't drive after her.

She didn't know where she was driving, but she was driving away from her hometown, from her family, and from Ren. She'll find a new home, and she'll learn to be happy there. She'll live inside of her car until then, and she'll search for a job until she can eventually save up money for a place.

Weeks went by as she drove in and out states, looking for a place to settle. She slept on the side of the roads, and picked up cheap food from any gas station or fast food joint she could find. She would use free wi-fi from those fast food joints or public places, and she would take showers in the public showers of trucker gas stations (she would wear socks during her showers though, like hell she'll contract ringworm or any other fungi).

Living homeless was uncomfortable and downright scary, but she felt it was better than being Ren's wife.

A month into her escape, she received a sketchy email from a supposed learning institution. The supposedly email basically summed up to them being notified that you were looking for a med school, but because of your recent arrest charges, you can't get into any schools. The institution is offering to accept her into their school under any medical degree and skill due to the fact their school doesn't accept discrimination of any kind.

It was extremely sketchy, it even had a poster of a doctor recommending euthanasia for suicidal people (honestly she could use that).

But it was something? If she actually got a degree from these guys, then she could really get her life back on track! Get a job! Become a pediatric nurse! She could actually make something out of herself and be happy on her own!

She responded back to the email, surprised to see the email reply not even ten minutes later. The email came with a short "thank you", followed by an address a few states away. (Y/N) gathered her items and walked out of the dining establishment, hopping into her car and putting on a GPS to follow the address.

This was her future, wherever it will lead her, it must at least be better than Ren.

(Y/N) woke up from her sleep, tired and disoriented. She felt a warm presence holding her, and looked up to see Andrew. Andrew's hand was placed on her head, his other arm wrapped tightly around her body, holding her close in a protective manner.

(Y/N) tried to carefully sneaking out of his hold, but it was to no use. She didn't want to wake him up, so she just resorted to lying there. She looked at her clock, noticing it was 8 A.M, far earlier than she'd like to be up by.

She looked over at Andrew and smiled. It's funny how she enjoys this practical stranger's company far more than she enjoyed Ren's, but I guess the difference between them is Ren was a stalker who didn't have any boundaries, and Andrew wasn't.

(Y/N) mentally gushed over his handsome face, resisting the urge to giggle as she saw drool on his lips.

What? She's allowed to mentally enjoy the peaceful sight. Who cares if he's a murderer staying with her rent free and she murdered his sister. She doesn't have many peaceful things in her life, shut up and let her enjoy this moment before her life goes to hell once more!

She remembered that her parents had spent the night, and that (Y/N) had express-shipped a package today for Andrew.

(Y/N) groaned, closing her eyes for a second before reopening them. She placed her hand on Andrew's arm, shaking him until he woke up.

"Uh... (Y/N)?" Andrew muttered, sleepily. "Something wrong...?"

"Morning, sleeping beauty." (Y/N) teased. "Ready to start today? We have a bunch of shopping to do."

"To spend a day with you? I'm honored." Andrew hummed sarcastically, before reaching his hand out and touching her cheek, gently pinching and tugging it. "Let's get today started, bedhead." He smirked, before ruffling her messy hair.

Hello, my stars! I know Andrew didn't show up in this like, at all, but don't worry, chapter 8 will have tons of Andrew. I'll make it up to y'all by doing a cute little date with Andrew and (Y/N), where cute, wholesome things happen. Nothing bad.

Chapter 7 is done! Phew! This was probably the fastest I've ever written a chapter for you guys. I've just had a lot of free time this week and I felt really motivated to do this chapter, so I'm glad it's out! Chapter 8 has most of its outline work done, so now it's just the matter of getting to write it! The series is starting to wrap up, but I think it probably won't end until chapter 10-12 (no promises though).

I also know that Andrew wasn't (was barely) in this chapter. I wanted to do a chapter of (Y/N)'s backstory, but I didn't expect it to get so long... I just didn't want to half-ass it. It was better separating the chapters after all though!

Don't worry, chapter 8 will have tons of Andrew. I'll make it up to y'all by doing a cute little date with Andrew and (Y/N), where cute, wholesome things happen. Nothing bad. Thank you all for reading!

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Inbox is OPEN for questions about the story and new plotlines/ideas, not for requests!

Chapters: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, current chapter, chapter 8, chapter 9 (in the works)

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