#I always come back to this series eventually and obsess over it for a bit

[being-of-rain]

Oh hey, The Confessions of Dorian Gray is half price atm! If you're interested in a good supernatural horror audio series, I really recommend you go check it out! It's about the immortal Dorian Gray who lives past the end of Oscar Wilde's original novel and through the whole 20th century. That means each episode is set in a different time and place (and has a queer main character. There's a gay vampire romance, obviously.) It's part-full cast drama, part-first person narration by the silky smooth voice of Alexander Vlahos. And episodes are usually only half an hour, making them satisfying little things (with great music too.) Eps are only a dollar or two each. (Just be aware the series is intended for mature audiences, and has things like adult themes, some odd violence, and the very rare short sex scene.)

LINK

Super Quick Listening Guide for the Morbidly Curious:

-The first episode is 'This World Our Hell', and if you're looking for the popular gay vampire ep in series 1 it's 'The Heart That Lives Alone'.

-There's some minisodes that are always free! I don't think any of them are as good as most of the full episodes, but they've got Vlahos' voice in them so worth checking out.

-If you want to dive in, then the collected 'Series 01-02' is good value for money. Just be aware it puts the episodes in chronological order rather than release order—I'd recommend release order for your first time, but they can be listened to either way. (As well as some other bonus features, the set also includes the episode of Bernice Summerfield that first tried out the Immortal Dorian Gray concept. But I wouldn't listen to it first, it's not part of the rest of the Dorian series and assumes you know the Benny characters.)

-After series 2, Big Finish also made an adaptation of the original Picture of Dorian Gray novel. I'm not sure I'd recommend listening to that first either; it's a lot longer and perhaps not quite as captivating as the series itself. If you've read any summary of the original novel, you'll be more than prepared for the Confessions of Dorian Gray.

[stxrvel]

absence (1)

series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader... or not? content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! curse words, fangirling a lot and some self-deprecation. no proofread. this is just silly writing, we're on the safe zone for now. a/n. hi guys! i was gonna wait a little bit but i'm really excited about this one so you're gonna have earlier! thank u all for the support and i really hope you enjoy this 🫶🏻

series masterlist | bts masterlist | next

You met them all at school. Each with their own ambitions, their different dreams, but so similar in the nature of their core. It was almost funny how everyone with their dissimilar personalities fit so strangely well into one school group. There were times when you could still remember how you used to tell them that all together they could rule the world.

Maybe that's why you didn't see them years ago.

Jeon Jungkook was an idol. There wasn't an hour in the day or a screen in the city where you weren't watching him. He was so popular around the world that you suspected that not even one person didn't know him. His voice was on every radio station, on every cell phone of the people you passed on the street and on the buses, his face on the TV sets with the last interview he had done, as if it were a national achievement. You even saw him in restaurants, chefs naming dishes after him, production companies releasing collaborations with his company. There wasn't an object in that city that didn't have Jungkook's face on its forehead. It was impossible to escape him.

He was closely followed by Kim Taehyung and Park Jimin, two of the most promising models of the last decade, a national pride hand in hand with Jungkook. You didn't see them as often as Jungkook, but they still swept the international public and there was hardly anyone who didn't talk about them. Invited to catwalks in Paris, choosing their contracts and collaborations, wearing the most expensive clothes that you wouldn't even think of buying, wearing beautiful matching jewelry, expensive enough that a single outfit from each of them could buy you five houses in the small town they all came from. Taehyung and Jimin were known as the Siamese twins of modeling. Wherever one went, the other always had to be. Their exclusivity was incomparable.

In levels of recognition, Min Yoongi followed them in line. A great rapper who was well received by the general populace. Yoongi had managed to captivate a large audience thanks to his incredible command of the production of his music and his ease and gift for writing his own lyrics. His growth was gradual, but when he touched the sky he never went down again. His popularity was not low even though his presentation to the public was not that high compared to the other three. Still, Yoongi had enough charisma and talent to stand out, especially when his fans were obsessed with highlighting the duality he had when he was on stage and when he did those seventy question interviews with Vogue or whatever… that had made him one of the best rappers of his generation and probably of the last century.

Kim Namjoon was the owner of the company that made Jungkook's debut and welcomed Yoongi with total creative freedom. If he were not solely focused on music, he would surely also be Taehyung and Jimin's agent. Namjoon had inherited a company from his parents, but the success he had turned it into over the past few years, into one of the most profitable businesses in the country, was entirely to his credit and effort. His popularity was also high, because everyone said he was too handsome to be a mere businessman; not knowing, of course, that everything involved in maintaining such a business required much more than a pretty face. Of Namjoon the public didn't know too much, not probably like the other guys and you, if he was still half the person he was before.

Hand in hand with Namjoon were Jung Hoseok and Kim Seokjin. Hoseok was and still is to this day a national pride as he passionately played tennis since school and turned professional, reaching to participate in major international tournaments representing his country and winning one of them. However, two years after that great feat, an accident involving one of his hands prevented him from continuing to play. No one knows exactly what happened during the more than a year and a half that he almost completely disappeared from the public eye, but when he returned with his huge smile he announced that he would dedicate himself to dance, opening his own academy throughout the center of the city. Although he was not a recurrent teacher, his academy was one of the best in the country, and of course, it was financed by Namjoon's company. At one time Hoseok became Namjoon's associate.

Seokjin, on the other hand, was the one who kept the lowest profile. He was a great doctor, cardiovascular if you were not mistaken. In addition to being an amazing surgeon, his research projects were the ones everyone looked forward to the most at the end of each year. You didn't know much about the subject, but he was almost like the guru of medicine in his field specifically. The only reason he was so much in the public eye being a doctor was because he was regularly seen in the company of Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi. The four of them made up the holy grail of dilfs.

They had all had incredibly successful careers and you were glad that they had been able to accomplish everything they once talked about on the rooftop of Namjoon's house, with sneaky steps so their parents wouldn't scold them when they sneaked out in the wee hours of the morning.

You didn't know exactly what it was - or you didn't want to acknowledge it - that succumbed inside you every time you saw or heard about any of them on the news or on social media. Because yeah, no matter how low media exposure any of them had, always the faces of all seven appeared on your TikTok every week.

It was amazing how they had all moved on and you… well, you-

“Weren't you supossed to leave?”

You lifted your head from your phone, trying to hide it with trembling hands as you let Taehyung's face next to Jungkook's plunge into the darkness of your apron pocket.

“Huh?”

You tried to look distracted, returning your gaze between your boss and the notes next to the cash register. She had a soft gaze, between amused and sisterly. Her brown eyes shifted from your eyes and hot cheeks to the notes you held upside down in your hands, pretending to work as if she herself hadn't seen you completely frozen and gawking at the pair of the country's great casanovas.

“I thought you were leaving earlier today,” your boss shifted, settling her trench coat and long brown strap bag over her shoulder. At that moment she was leaving to walk around to each of the locations she had in town, just to do follow-ups. “Don't tell me you forgot.”

You followed her index finger until it landed on the red circle you had drawn on the calendar placed in your little cubicle a couple of weeks ago, with hearts surrounding it and exclamation points. Yes you remembered, of course you remembered, but at the point where you were at the time no one was going to miss you if you didn't attend.

“I didn't forget…” your voice trailed off as you looked down, your fingers finding the tips of the pages more entertaining than your boss's worried expression.

“y/n, you asked me to leave earlier this day from four months ago,” her high-pitched voice echoed in your head, reminding you how excited you had been a while ago for this day to come. “You can't just give up like that. Come on. You still have time.”

You began to shake your head, releasing your grip on the woman who was looking at you with the same worried eyes of a mother. Your boss had been one of the most encouraging people you'd ever had in your life, besides the handful of friends you had stored in your phone's contacts.

“It was a bust last time. I don't plan on going through that again.”

“But hadn't you told me afterwards that you weren't going to let that stop you? You said… what was it? I can't drown in this glass of water.”

You grudgingly resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Really you of four months ago was a deluded fool.

“I had no idea about life at the time.”

Your boss clicked her tongue, dropping her hands on your shoulders, giving little squeezes whose familiarity stole your breath.

“I'll leave Patrick waiting for you in case you change your mind.”

You shook your head, evading the memories. The man outside the store shook his head in greeting as the two of you turned to look at him, as if he knew you were talking about him.

“Don't miss this opportunity because you're afraid. It may change your life.”

You watched her leave, the clacking of her low heels drawing the attention of everyone in the store, earning every possible stare as she did every time she entered any room. Her chauffeur, Patrick, greeted her with a similar nod of his head as before and stood leaning against the black car parked right where he could get a perfect view of your nervous face.

You, unlike the great and successful lives of your high school friends whose company you still used to miss like a fool, had not had such a great and successful life.

You were a writer. Well, an attempted writer and, worse, part-time. The other part-time was this job behind the cash register at the largest pastry chain in the country. Or sometimes as a waitress, it depended on the day. There was good pay, mind you, at least it allowed you to make up for the losses you took every time you tried to sell a book and then had to market it on your own, only to have five purchases once every seven months and three of them were from your parents and brother. The other two were from your friends.

Four months ago you had been invited to a sort of convention for readers, how they had found you and why? You had no idea, but the idea of being considered in that way drove you crazy at the time. You were so excited that you had more copies of your failed books printed and prepared your booth several days in advance to present them to the horde of people who, you were sure at the time, would come to meet you.

Only one person came by to ask you about the bathroom.

You never recovered from that.

Even with all that failure, that same day you were invited to another convention and, for a while, you were excited to attend. Everyone goes through those kinds of bumps at some point in their life, right? You have to work hard to earn that kind of fame, you kept telling yourself. But as time went on and your networks didn't grow and your videos didn't get more than ten views, or fifty views at most in a week, you began to lose that spark of excitement you held for your dream. Your parents had never turned your back on what you wanted to do, but it was too demotivating and discouraging to have spent so many years at it, so many headaches and tears invested for you to just keep losing and losing money.

That was why you were sure you wouldn't go to that convention if you had to go through that mockery again. You hadn't even bothered to go and fix your booth so surely they already knew you weren't going.

“Have you seen them yet??????”

The female voice coming from the wine cellar made you jump up on your chair.

“Jesus, Yuna, you almost killed me here.”

“I don't care! We could die right now for all we care!”

“Wow, speak for yourself.”

“Haven't you seen theeeem?”

Yuna held up her phone, the screen at full brightness blinding you for a moment. The blurry dots you saw from the proximity of the device told you nothing, as your friend jumped excitedly beside you.

“God, hold still.”

Grabbing her wrist, you leveled the phone to see her TikTok and a picture of three men.

Namjoon, Yoongi and Jungkook coming out of a building. From Namjoon's building.

“They look amazing, don't they? They just came out! That means their car will pass in front of us any minute!”

Yes, Namjoon's building was just a few blocks away from your boss's place. In fact, your boss knew him and many times they would prepare large orders for parties at his company. You had never seen him set foot in this place or any other in the country, but every time he went to celebrate something he had to dial your boss's personal number and you would work until your backs burned because everything had to be perfect for the big businessman.

“Are you going out to greet them or what?” you frowned, letting go of her wrist and returning your gaze to the notebook next to the cash register.

Yuna let out an excited exclamation.

“Ohhhh~, should I? Should I?”

You grabbed her by the collar of her uniform as she tried to pass behind you.

“We're still on business hours.”

“I'm sure Sol wouldn't mind,” her almost heart pupil eyes stared down the street, her hands moving in front of her like she was a zombie. She almost seemed possessed by her fanaticism. Though of course you didn't blame her, if you didn't know any of the seven knights of the underworld you would surely be as excited as she was.

“Don't put words in her mouth. You'd better tell me if the lady's batch of cakes is out yet-”

Commotion erupted throughout the room. You almost saw in slow motion how all the people in the premises got up and running in the direction of the glass doors when you heard the screams coming from far away.

“They're comiiiiiiiiiiiing!!!”

Sometimes you wondered how they dealt with this level of fanaticism.

The ground almost shook with the amount of people running after a black car, where the three men who were causing such a furor so early that day were most likely to be, and the commotion was not tiny inside the venue where the screams erupted.

Having to deal with that on a daily basis would easily turn someone into a hater. Not that you were one... strictly...

“God, for a moment we breathed the same air,” Yuna plopped down on the table, her body doubled over with her eyes lost. You resisted the urge to smack her forehead.

“Their car windows were up.”

“So you saw them, right?????”

“Argh.”

You had to drag her back to work as the excitement in the store dissipated. You attended to another batch of consumers while Yuna fixed the display case and, in a moment of lapse you could almost tell, her back suddenly straightened and she turned to look at you with her eyes a little too wide. You passed the change to the man in front of you, who barely sent you a confused glance before continuing to claim his order at the other corner of the store.

“What's wrong with you?”

“You shouldn't be here.”

“Don't say that with that face. You look creepy,” you pulled out the bill to tuck it under the cash register as Yuna approached, leaving the frightened face behind.

“Wasn't that convention today?”

You sighed. “Yes.”

“Then why aren't you there?”

“Do I look like I want to be there?”

“Y/n! It's a great opportunity. You should-”

“A great opportunity for what, to be a laughingstock again?”

Yuna pursed her lips, looking almost pained that you would remember in that way the experience that was supposed to change your life. She had been one of the ones who had accompanied you to set up the booth and she was sure she had never seen you smile so much during all the time the two of you had known each other. Yuna was aware of how over time you seemed to have lost interest in this new convention, but she didn't think you would finally decide not to go.

On the sly, she had prepared your booth with the help of your mother and Sol, your boss.

“You were never a laughingstock! Don't say that,” Yuna patted your forearm harder than necessary. “Besides, I recently logged some purchases on the site! How do you-?”

“I know it was you and mom,” you raised your voice to interrupt her, stepping archly away from her body.

“What the… Of course not, ha, ha!”

“You're the only fools who would write down celebrity names to register purchases. Besides, the addresses don't even exist.”

“Fuck, I told her that wouldn't work.”

Under your heavy gaze, Yuna had the decency to look embarrassed.

“Okay, I'm sorry! We wanted to motivate you to go to the convention.”

“Can't you just let me do my own thing? If I don't want to go, I won't go.”

“Even if you leave Patrick waiting there?”

You followed his gaze, watching the man pull an umbrella out of the trunk of the car as the slightest breeze brushed against his body and the water droplets were smaller than a dew that the two of you had to squint to see them on the glass of the entrance.

“Whatever it is, I'm not going.”

“y/n…” Yuna pleaded, coming closer with her puppy dog eyes.

“No.”

“y/n, please…”

“No and stop doing that. You look weird.”

“I don't,” Yuna pulled away to frown at you. “I once heard you agreed with Seoyeon about my puppy face being cute.”

“I never agreed with that!”

“Seojun told me so!”

“Your first mistake is believing Seojun.”

“Do you blame me if the reason is your demonstration of love for me?”

“That was your second mistake.”

“Y/n!”

_____________________

That day you arrived home a little later than usual. Since Patrick had been waiting for you all day in the sun and mini rain and refused to let you take a cab on direct instructions from Sol, you asked him to take a ride downtown so you could buy the teokkboki your mom loved and incidentally bought some for him, even though he didn't want to accept it at first.

“y/n, dear, how did it go?”

Your parents were in the living room when you arrived playing Go. Your father left the table when he saw you carrying the bag of food and came over to take it from you.

“What does our little writer bring here, a contract by any chance?”

You watched out of the corner of your eye as your mother tried to get your father's attention by wildly waving her fan, while the man rummaged through the bag to find something warm and delicious smelling.

“Oh, it's teokkboki.”

Your mother stopped waving her arm to stare at the bag with sparkling eyes.

“The ones from the center? From Mrs. Wang?”

You nodded in her direction, taking a seat in their midst on the floor. Your parents started a pitched battle to see who would break the bag first to try the first batch of teokkboki and you could only watch them with a smile on your face. The day may have been difficult, but being home at the end of the day always made you feel so much better.

Amidst laughter and anecdotes, trying to avoid the elephant in the room because you knew your mother's furtive glances weren't for nothing, the three of you ate teokkboki until you were bursting at the seams. You organized the kitchen with your father while your mother grumbled from the living room whatever he said about her. You watched the three of you favorite soap opera on the fixed schedule and finally got ready for bed.

With your body more relaxed and lighter, you let yourself sink into the softness of the sheets, completely ignoring the messages Yuna had sent earlier and the stupid questions your brother asked at the most inopportune moments.

How do I unclog a bath?

Do I add salt to the rice???

Where do I get the kimchi mom makes?????

His independence was probably one of the worst things that could happen. You being the older sister thought you would leave home first. Even according to your twelve year old diary, you should have been married by then or at least planning your amazing, mega giant wedding, complete with helicopters and puppy dogs carrying drinks through the reception. You didn't know what kind of crazy dreams you had when you were younger, but up to that point you hadn't been able to fulfill any of your inner child's desires except to study for a career you were passionate about.

Still, what good had that done in the end? Maybe you should've listened to your grandparents to study medicine. Maybe your parents should've been a little more conservative instead of libertarian, which your grandparents always complained about when they had the chance. If you were a disgrace to anyone in the family, it was to them.

Ah, what a long day.

You didn't know at what point you fell asleep, but the incessant sound of your phone vibrating next to your pillow woke you up. With a grunt, you moved your hands to put the device in front of one of your half-open eyes to find Yuna on caller ID. Your eyes moved upward.

It was one in the morning!

“What the fuck are you doing calling at this hour? It better be an emergency because-”

“WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING THAT YOU DON'T CHECK YOUR MESSAGES?”

“WHAT KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT? IT'S ONE IN THE MORNING! WHY WOULD I BE DOING ANYTHING ELSE BUT SLEEPING?”

“I'VE BEEN TEXTING YOU FOR A WHILE NOW, Y/N!”

“YUNA HOW CAN I NOT FUCKING SLEEP-?”

“Well, whatever!”

You let out an exasperated snort, giving her time to say what she had to say.

“You're going to fall on your ass.”

“I'm lying down.”

“Your books have sold a thousand copies in the last hour!”

Silence. Absorbing silence…

“Yuna, if you really woke me up to play a fucking prank on me I'm going all the way to your house to pull out every single one of your hairs with a fucking tweezer.”

“First of all, gross. Second of all, I'm not kidding! Get on your fucking Instagram! What's worse is that's not the most shocking news. Well… depends on how you look at it.”

“Yuna, I don't think I'm following you.”

“Fucking Kim Taehyung was at the reader convention and he took a picture of your books and UPLOADED IT TO HIS INSTAGRAM STORIES!!!!! AN HOUR AGO! The damn shopping notifications woke me up and I think I took too much time trying to process what was going on because they already tripled!”

“What the fuck are you talking about, did you start smoking weed?”

“Ugh, why are you so insufferable? Just look at fucking Instagram!”

You didn't want to believe Yuna, but a part of you was vibrating in anticipation. You'd already seen her text messages, her exclamations and voice notes, you'd barely processed the images she'd sent you. You logged on to Instagram. The first thing you noticed was the exorbitant amount of notifications and direct messages.

You had to search for Taehyung's account because you weren't following him.

There was the colorful arc around his profile picture. The story.

You clicked on his picture on the screen.

Your books were all over his story, with his hand holding one of them.

It jumped out at you that there was a stand of your books that you had no idea where it had come from.

A description loomed between the image.

One of the best fantasy books I've read in recent years. And by one of the best writers I've ever met in my life.

Your user was next to the description. You had no idea how fucking Kim Taehyung had gotten your user when it wasn't even something related to your name. You hadn't even uploaded pictures of yourself once in all the time that account had been open.

“Did you see it?? Can you see I wasn't lying?”

With Yuna's malevolent laughter in the background, you felt your mind escape into an unknown mental space.

“You're going to be rich!!! And I'm going to meet Kim Taehyung!”

Your mind was racing a thousand miles an hour trying to make sense of what your eyes couldn't credit. His story was replaying on your screen. So many things you could say and just…

“What the fuck?”

--

tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7

[keepthedelta]

okay it's kinda specific but is there any brocedes fact that is often overlooked but you think that is essential (or perhaps gives a new approach) to the lore?

that's such a good question. i have several, i hope you don't mind

the first one is the "he'll always be my best friend in my heart" quote. i've seen a lot of people use it as a very earnest declaration etc. (or if they believe in the nico is obsessed with lewis shit as a sign of that) but it was actually nico making a joke when he was doing commentary (on the italian comms i think). he was asked a question about lewis and jokingly/sarcastically said "in my heart he'll always be my best friend", and then immediately clarified that it was a joke (maybe recognising the narrative that would be spun around it). i know this seems kind of anti-brocedes but i do think it is essential to the lore that people recognise nico is not a weird as fandom likes to make out. he's absolutely weird, and he's definitely not normal about lewis, but he's not obsessive, and he feels comfortable enough making jokes about them. when you contrast that with lewis who either refuses to say nico's name in conversations where he is the most relevant person (the better teammates than max interview) or brings him up unnecessarily and then panics about it (grill the grid), i think it changes the dynamic of who is yearning, who is "over it", who is winning the idgaf war (it's neither of them but the difference is lewis lost by playing and nico is open enough about giving a fuck that he's not pretending to play). i am biased, but i also think that if you look back at them during their careers, lewis was always weirder about nico than nico was about him, although again, neither of them can truly be described as normal about each other.

then there's nico beating lewis in the 2004 f3 series that they shared. the narrative of brocedes describes it as lewis always beating nico, lewis being the one to win and nico always being slightly behind. and largely this is true. but in 2004 they were both competing in the 2004 f3 european series, albeit for different teams. neither of them won, but nico narrowly beat lewis. now they were in different teams and nico himself has said that some teams had better cars and equipment than others and that made a difference in the end result. but, nico still beat lewis. he had nearly double the number of dnfs/dns (6 to lewis's 3) and triple the number of wins (3 to lewis's 1), finishing highest of all the entrants who eventually made it to f1 (nico himself, lewis, adrian sutil and robert kubica). but nico himself barely seems to remember this. the narrative of lewis always being better, always beating him, is something he seems to have internalised, even though it isn't quite true, or at least, not as true as people make out.

my third bit of lore is that mclaren wanted to sign nico for the 2008 season. following the drama of fernando alonso (affectionate) and spygate, mclaren had an open seat and ron dennis wanted to fill it with nico. he even offered to buy out nico's contract from williams, but frank williams viewed nico as their best hope and refused. the driver that eventually ended up replacing fernando was heikki kovaleinen, nico's gp2 rival and 100% finnish to his 50% (yes nico's national identity crisis does come into this). lewis ended up winning the championship that year. heikki took only 1 victory, and while i think lewis would have beaten nico, i think nico wouldn't have been a doormat for him like heikki, and would have won at least a couple of races, which would have allowed felipe massa and ferrari to succeed. in many ways i think an argument can be made that nico not getting that mclaren seat really helped lewis to win his first championship, in the same way that if lewis hadn't gone to mercedes, nico would have won three, or if nico had stayed, there is a very real possibility that sebastian vettel would have won 2017. their presence and their success dooms the other, and it always has.

my final thing is that they are the most successful teammate pairing in f1 history. it kind of links back to the last one, where the fact that they are each as good as they are hurts the other one, unlike a lewis and valtteri line up or a michael and rubens line up where there is a distinct number one driver and the other one is to be sacrificed for him. but, even though both of those pairs were together for longer (nico and lewis aren't even in the top 5 longest teammate pairings), it takes more than a number 1 number 2 driver lineup to be the most successful. it takes nico and lewis, who are both number 1 drivers (don't come for me on this, nico would have flattened the likes of valtteri, rubens, or mark webber and you know it). although they were only teammates for four years (and one of those was a sebastian vettel/red bull dominance year) they achieved more pole positions, front row lockouts, wins, podiums, and 1-2 finishes than any other pairing in f1 history. they were utterly, utterly dominant, and that's why they hurt each other so badly. they were the dream team, the absolute best f1 could come up with, but they weren't just competing as a team, they were competing against each other, and only one of them could win

[emphistic]

Sukuna Headcanons

a/n: this is from the same universe in my Boy Nextdoor Series, in this drabble yuuji is sukuna's baby brother, i mightve gotten a bit carried away while writing this

@starlets-things PS: idk if you wanted me to tag you in a part two of "Buttface", or just another part of my Boy Nextdoor Series (example: being part of a tag list), pls lmk though

Please REFRAIN from REPOSTING MY WORK

(REBLOGS ARE EXEMPTED FROM THIS RULE)

These are mostly pre-relationship hcs (post-relationship hcs are towards the end of this post)

Neighbor!Sukuna who hangs out at your house constantly, whether it be for studying, playing a game, or having your weekly movie night, he's there almost 24/7

Neighbor!Sukuna who would always force you to partner up with him whenever a group project was assigned; he always played it off as "I'm just using you to get a good grade" — which is a total lie if you haven't caught on yet

Neighbor!Sukuna who discovered his love for whenever you played with his hair when you pushed him into the pool and had to blow-dry his hair as recompense

Neighbor!Sukuna who sometimes forgets that his friends were supposed to come over when you were already at his house

Neighbor!Sukuna who constantly teases you for the height difference between you and him

Neighbor!Sukuna who always walks you to class, even if it means being late to his [own classes]

Neighbor!Sukuna who, without a doubt, hates your friends, like absolutely despises them — this is because he doesn't like the fact that they take your attention away from him

Neighbor!Sukuna who has a hate and love relationship whenever you come over to babysit his brother when he's busy at basketball practice or something — he loves having you over at his house, but he hates that he has to miss seeing your smile and hearing your voice

Neighbor!Sukuna who never listens during class because he's always staring at you

You turned your head around to be faced with a surprised Sukuna. "Hey. Stop staring at me, Freak."

Sukuna would always roll his eyes at that, denying the accusation, but you knew the truth, though — and so did your whole class, maybe even the whole school too, your teachers included

Neighbor!Sukuna who gets on your nerves on purpose because he is obsessed, utterly infatuated with the cute face you make whenever you're mad

He thinks you're adorable when you're upset, especially when the cause is him

Neighbor!Sukuna who sometimes makes you a little too angry, resulting in detention for the both of you — however, he doesn't mind the extra time he gets to spend with you

Post-establishedrelationship hcs:

Neighbor!Sukuna who always shuts you up with a kiss whenever he thinks you talk too much (he is a little mean, yes)

Neighbor!Sukuna who can't stand when other people are talking to you

Neighbor!Sukuna who always has to be touching you one way or another — whether that be a hand around your shoulder, hand on your waist, or even your hand wrapped around his bicep/arm, sometimes he doesn't even realize he has a hand on you, it's just become instinct now

Neighbor!Sukuna who kicks the back of your knee when he wants you to stop talking to someone, and talk to him instead

Neighbor!Sukuna who forces you to wear his jersey whenever he has a game; he loves seeing his last name on your back — he always points you out in a crowd to his teammates

"See that pretty girl over there? Yeah, that's mine."

Neighbor!Sukuna who can't resist slapping your ass whenever you walk past; it's become a natural instinct at this point

Neighbor!Sukuna who is actually super clingy, but he'll never admit that; he'll spam you with nonstop calls and texts just to ignore you when you do eventually respond

Neighbor!Sukuna who can't fall asleep without you beside him in bed

Neighbor!Sukuna who loves when you kiss him on the cheek — he doesn't even know why, he just thinks it feels more intimate than an actual kiss on the lips

Neighbor!Sukuna who always carries your bag

Neighbor!Sukuna who rarely gets sick, but sometimes gets sick on purpose just to have you take care of him

Neighbor!Sukuna who would always kiss you, even if you were sick

Neighbor!Sukuna who pretends not to pay your guys' dinner bill but actually sneaks the money into your purse after you go to sleep

[synthetickitsune]

Milk Swirls Of Destiny ✧ y.jh

Pairing: Yoon Jeonghan x reader (gn) Genre: coffee shop au, fluff Summary: Yoon Jeonghan is mildly inconvenient at best and infuriating at worst. He's somehow the worst and the best coworker you have. Definitely the most annoying. Word count: 6.8k Warnings: food mentions A/N: he just lives rent free and his pretty best friend too and @hanniedream is holding me hostage in brainrot (aka being my partner in crime and emotional support and muse here) [series masterlist] [next chapter - wip]

“Aaaah… I see now. Hm…” Jeonghan swirls the cup slightly, a look of concentration on his face.

“What- what is it?” the girl standing on the other side of the counter stumbles over her words. She’s looking at him with bated breath. Her hands are clasped together as if she was praying. As if she was looking at something holy. You scoff quietly and roll your eyes once you turn your back towards them. Like there’s not enough work to do.

“Look here,” Jeonghan says and points to the squiggly line where he messed up the milk pour for a flower design. His face is the mask of seriousness. “See the waves? Clear sign of turbulent times ahead. But it smooths out eventually - it looks a bit like a star here, see?”

No. No, it doesn’t.

“-That means you’ll succeed. Just hang in there.”

The girl seems on the verge of tears as she takes the cup from Jeonghan, clutching it with both hands as she thanks him relentlessly. It’s only after a couple minutes that she finally walks off with what has to be a cold and disgusting latte. 

You understand trying to predict the future from coffee grounds, tea leaves, whatever, but to do so from a milk pour in a latte made by a barista who couldn’t pour a heart if his life depended on it? 

“You’ll scare off the customers with that sour face,” Jeonghan nudges your ribs with his elbow once he comes stand next to you and finally starts helping you with the backed up orders.

“Yeah, and the thin ice you’re dancing on will break under you one day when the customers start complaining about their coffee being cold by the time you’re done with your little fortune teller charade,” you snap back. He snickers.

“Someone’s grumpy,” he hums, “I’m here now, we’ll have these done in no time.”

You’d like to believe him. You really would. But you’re annoyed and you know it’s only a matter of time before he runs off again.

It’s not his fault that the new guy called in sick last minute. The boss knows that it’s better to have at least one more person behind the counter whenever Jeonghan is working - partly because he’s busy with his fortune telling side hustle and partly because he brings in a lot of customers. A lot of customers. And without fail all of them become annoyingly obsessed with him, it’s only a matter of time. It’s fine as long as they only come in and stare at him, it’s the ones who have to have their coffee made by him and have him read their fortunes. Like he’s not just making shit up. You’d swear you saw some fan pages dedicated to him online. 

You guess the traffic he brings to the cafe is the only reason the boss is okay with him doing his thing and leaving the rest of you to struggle.

For now though, you work efficiently and neatly together. Working with Jeonghan, when he is doing his actual job, is always smooth. You don’t need to talk to get the orders to the waiting customers fast. At times like these you only have half a mind to cringe at the winks and apologetic smiles he sends to his flock of lovesick fans. Sometimes you want to tell him he’d get even more tips - like he’s not already getting a ridiculous amount - if he let his fingers brush against theirs, but whenever you open your mouth to do it, you can’t. Your stomach twists when the words make it to the tip of your tongue. It must be because you couldn’t witness that without gagging.

“See? We’re doing so well,” he hums proudly, and you fully intend to give him a genuine smile back. You really do. That is until you see the customer he’s handing the cup to. He frowns a little at the way your face falls and your lack of reaction. Before he can say anything, though, the girl squeals: “You’re the one who can read the future, right?”

It honestly looks like she’s meeting an idol. To be fair, Jeonghan has all the predispositions to be one and has the professionalism to match. You’d think the flustered but excited smile he gives the girl is genuine if you didn’t know any better. He always gives them conspicuous smiles like his role is a secret between the two of them. Like he feels seen by them. You sigh, your smile purely professional while you hand the glass to the other customer and simply motion towards the straws and sugar packets. And then you rush to work on the next drink.

Jeonghan breaks character for just a second to give you an apologetic smile - which you pointedly ignore. You’re too busy. Just one scan of the growing line and pool of waiting customers is enough to tell you Jeonghan won’t be helping you any time soon.

And eventually, any time soon turns into well after rush hour, with the most dedicated - and delusional - fans forming a line of their own just to get the most useless fortune reading of their lines. 

It’s honestly admirable in its own way that he acts with the same dedication with all of them, no matter how many there are. Right now though, you finally get to sit down and can’t be bothered to try and think anything good about him. You feel abandoned. Betrayed.

You know you’re the one being dramatic now, but you can’t help it. Your social battery is drained. 

You didn’t even get to go on lunch break - you couldn’t leave the other newcomer, Chan, there alone. No way he could handle both taking and making the orders. He hasn’t even been properly trained for that yet. And it feels like Jeonghan slacked off the whole time. Honestly you had no idea how this could be profitable for the owner but hey, it’s her business and not yours.

You’re still sulking when you finally take off the apron and your work shoes. Even walking to the station and walking home doesn’t seem appealing right now, but you really need a nap. And a nice warm meal. Still, you can’t find the energy or will to pack your stuff, so you’re just zoning out for a couple minutes. Which turns out to be a mistake.

The door flies open to reveal a disheveled Jeonghan. His hair is a mess, like he’s been the one getting through the rush. Once he sees you, however, he breathes out seemingly in relief and smoothes down his birdnest of a hair with his free hand. In the other he’s holding a cup of something iced. 

“I thought I didn’t make it,” he smiles at you, carefully coming closer. You heave a long and exhausted sigh.

“Leaving all the work to the others again?” you say, and although you try to sound unbothered, there’s a bitter edge to your voice. He frowns a little, turning his head towards the door for a second.

“I made sure no one was there when I left,” he shifts his weight, “And I just wanted to bring you this. As a thank you and a sorry.”

He offers you the cup in his hand and you take it. Or you’d like to before he steps a little closer and his eyes fill with that mischief you’re so used to seeing during his interactions with the customers.

Not this again…

“If you look here,” his finger draws a swirl above the transparent lid, “See how it looks like those curls want to tie together? A clear sign someone’s trying to court you. And they must be close.”

While he explains, Jeonghan keeps his eyes on the coffee but once he’s finished he looks at you. His gaze is so hopeful, so so hopeful, and you remember it working on you the first couple tries. It gets old after a while, though.

“Yeah, thanks for the coffee,” you shut down his efforts and take the cup from him, “For what it’s worth, I’d prefer for someone to have my back when it’s busy.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeonghan blurts out. He frowns again when he sees how resigned you look, licking his lips uncertainly. “I’m sorry I made you do all the work. I didn’t mean to.”

“Yeah, I bet you didn’t. Like you didn’t mean to on Monday, or last week, or literally any other day we were short on people,” you roll your eyes. Finally you get the motivation to take your things from the locker and leave. 

“Arguably, the cafe being short staffed is the issue here,” he says almost sheepishly - and visibly regrets it the moment you scoff and set the coffee down to cross your arms on your chest. “What?”

“‘Being short staffed is the problem’ yeah - yeah you can argue that and lose the fucking argument because we only need the extra person because you’re no fucking help,” you snap at him, throwing your bag over your shoulder and slamming the locker shut after hurriedly throwing things in. Jeonghan opens and closes his mouth, the corners of his mouth downturned and eyes wide. “Goodbye Jeonghan. See you Friday.”

You push past him and leave, waving at the poor cashier left stuck here with him. 

Jeonghan looks after you until the door closes and the loud noise makes him jump. He looks at the cup left behind, dripping water on the bench. He groans, sitting down with his head in his hands. He rubs his face, knowing he shouldn’t linger here. You might be gone, but his chest feels tight anyway. Now more than ever, like he’s just proving you right by wasting his time here where he is of no help to anyone.

He picks up the cup sadly and takes a small sip. It’s the best one he made, it shouldn’t go to waste. It’s just the way you like it, your favorite he thinks, yet it doesn’t make him feel any better or like you’re still here with him. 

When he returns to the front, a customer has just finished ordering - an older man, and Jeonghan immediately proceeds to prepare the order. His mind is blank but his heart feels heavy. You didn’t even taste the drink…

“Did you seriously just disappear to the back to drink your coffee?” Chan whisper-yells at him after he hands the order to the customer. Jeonghan is about to argue but then he realizes how pathetic he’d sound and just laughs.

“Eyy, I returned just in time, didn’t I?” he bumps his hip against the newbie’s. 

“Dude, you’re just flirting the whole day. Me and y/n did all the hard work, do you really think you’re the one who deserves a coffee break?” his coworker sighs and takes a rag to wipe down the counter. His smile falls immediately and suddenly it’s hard to swallow.

Way to go, Yoon Jeonghan…

Although you don’t work with Jeonghan again until today, you can’t say you feel any better. It’s not like you hate the job - actually you quite like it. The pay’s decent, the boss is fine for the most part, and your coworkers are all nice people too. At the same time you’d lie if you said you wouldn’t rather stay home and sleep and that your stomach doesn’t feel uncomfortably nauseated just thinking of another shift with Jeonghan. Your only hope is that it’s Friday and those usually aren’t as busy in the area. And it’s your last shift for the week. You can do this.

You wash your face and pray. There’s not much else you can do.

The least you can do is to use your limited control over the situation to take the last possible bus so that you make it in time. So you do. Every minute of peace counts. And although it does make you anxious to imagine being late, it’s not like you come late regularly - you never did, actually. So not a big deal. Maybe it’d show Jeonghan what it feels like to be all on his own.

For a while longer, you let the world fade into the background with music blasting in your headphones. It’s easier to ignore people if you can’t hear them. You push it, only giving Chan and Joshua behind the counter a friendly wave to greet them while you pass them. 

You push it further, opening the door to the staff room. You keep the music on until the last moment, until you open your locker and pull out your shoes and stuff your things in, and then you have no choice but to turn the music off and return to reality.

The first sound to reach your ears is annoying high-pitched whining complemented by a fluff of blond hair buzzing around you.

“You’re so mean,” Jeonghan complains, “Are you ignoring everyone today or just me?”

The temptation to just keep your mouth shut is so strong but you never learn. You still have hope that today will be better. And then you’ll need to get along with him. You’re closing the place together too…

Luck seems to be on your side for now, however, and lets you keep him waiting without any need for an excuse.

“My condolences, y/n. He’s so annoying today - he kept bugging us at the front before you came,” your savior, Joshua, declares right as he comes in and heads for his locker.

“Hey-”

“Are you leaving Chan there alone?” you quirk a brow at the newcomer while you change your shoes and throw on a fresh apron. It’s mostly just an excuse to ignore Jeonghan for a bit longer. But also it’s not like Joshua to skirt his duties.

“He can handle himself for five minutes,” he shrugs, “He’s a quick learner and it’s basically empty.”

You hum and snicker, “So was Vernon and you know how that went.”

Joshua shakes his head with a laugh while Jeonghan, very much cosplaying a fluffy and persistent bee, hovers closer to you at the edge of your vision.

This is a conversation he could join in but he doesn’t want to join in on a conversation you have with Joshua - he wants to talk to you! Alone! 

“Aren’t you supposed to be clocking out?” Jeonghan snorts in the direction of the other man. Joshua smirks, leaning against the lockers.

“Aren’t you supposed to be clocking in? I bet there’s already a line waiting for you,” the other never backs down from whatever Jeonghan throws his way. It’s impressive. It’s what he likes about the guy. It’s a challenge and he enjoys one. Even now, he’d bite back - oh, he would. But from the corner of his eyes he can see how your face falls just a little.

“Well, they can all wait because first, I’m gonna do a very exclusive reading for our dear y/n here,” he can’t let you see him weak and he can’t lose, and by changing the direction, he’s definitely not-

“Nah, thanks, I’d rather Shua does it,” you smile at the other man.

Now it’s turn for Jeonghan’s face to fall. Not like you will notice.

(It feels like a dagger to the back. The boss had this big idea of having more people on rotation for those readings, and with his acting skills and similarly mischievous personality as well as good looks, Joshua was the obvious choice. Jeonghan poured his heart into teaching him. Their back and forths were on another level, Joshua truly was the perfect student and the only one who could possibly match Jeonghan’s skill. Unfortunately, Joshua is also fucking crazy and his readings were anything but the wholesome, uplifting messages meant to comfort and heal that Jeonghan is trying to hand out. So in the end, Jeonghan alone is the chosen one.)

Joshua laughs back, throwing out a casual “anytime” that makes Jeonghan gag.

“y/n,” he whines, propping his chin on your shoulder - and he knows it’s just the surprise that stops you from immediately shrugging him off but whatever - “But he’ll just tell you you’re gonna grow a third eye or something. I’ll give you the truth.”

“If I had a third eye, I’d be able to see when we’ll get busy so I can, I don’t know, slip and break my leg and go home,” you roll your eyes and now you shrug him off and he pursues his lips more. 

Is it really that bad?

“We’d miss you here, you’re one of the good ones,” Joshua smirks at you and checks his watch, “Time to go! Good luck, both of you.”

Jeonghan hears you grumble something along the lines of ‘like he needs it’ way too clearly. He lets you walk in front of him, so he can sigh without you noticing. Joshua pats his shoulder while he passes him and gives him a kind smile. He hates how easy it is to like the guy.

Fortunately the cafe remains virtually empty when you come out, so you greet Chan again but with a genuine smile for a change. He seems to notice and beams at you too.

“Shua said you did well today,” you hum, trying to warm up to the newest addition to the team. Safe for the dude who’s still sick and you haven’t seen before. You don’t even remember his name.

“You know Shua, he’s just kind,” Chan dismisses, but there’s a happy sparkle in his eyes. One that is very much missing in Jeonghan’s - a fact which goes unnoticed.

He goes through the motions of cleaning the counter even though it’s sparkling clean. He refills the beans even though the container is full. He checks the labels and everything is in order…

“What’s up with him?” the cashier nods towards him. You shrug.

To be fair, Jeonghan works hard. Usually he’s pretty cheerful too, but now he’s just a lifeless husk and you wonder if it has anything to do with you basically ignoring him. Maybe you were too harsh on him when he was just being friendly.

“Anything needs a refill? Do we need anything from the back?” you slide closer to the man in question and take the rag from his hands. He looks surprised but before you can even blink, he’s smiling at you and smirking mischievously.

“Are you hinting I should go get it myself? That’s so mean,” he grumbles. He’s giving you a very convincing kicked puppy look but it’s not like there’s anything he needs to convince you about. Safe for his competency maybe, but that would take much more than him acting cute.

“I’d do it myself. This is just me giving you a chance to pull your stuff out.”

He grimaces a little, as if he forgot about it. Still he thanks you quietly. This one you can’t blame on him; it was just another of your boss’ bright ideas.   

‘Jeonghan’s stuff’ is really just a cloth, a nice deep shade of purple with golden embroidery of sun and moon and some more astrological motives that he spreads out on the area of the counter where he does the readings. It’s also an assortment of crystal candy handmade by Minghao.

(Minghao is only a part-timer and has the least hours of all of you, and occasionally you somehow go the whole month without seeing him once. You wonder if it has anything to do with the time he needs to make the candies.

They don’t match the cafe’s vibe - they look too luxurious, especially next to the plain looking macarons, roll cakes, cookies and other goodies - but they do fit Jeonghan’s vibe.

They’re delicious too, so you hope that whatever is Minghao’s contract doesn’t change. Although he could give out employee discounts.)

Anyway, Jeonghan’s corner isn’t much, and thank god it’s not flashy, but it’s a little extra something for whenever Jeonghan’s working. You usually notice some of his groupies peeking in through the front window to check if his stuff is out. It’s also a good way to tell if the day will be a good one or not if he’s in.

“Found something we need from the back?” Jeonghan joins you right as you’re finished going through the supplies.

“No, I think we’re good. Shua usually leaves everything ready for the next shift anyway,” you hum, double checking the dates on everything just to be sure. Not that you expect to find anything amiss.

“You’re so nice to him.” You roll your eyes at him before you can stop yourself, which Jeonghan takes a personal offense to. “I always do my best too!”

“Yeah, but Shua is just more reliable,” you shrug. Unswayed by his sulking, you keep working around Jeonghan, who follows you while listing all the nice things he’s ever done for you. You catch Chan watching you from the side and laughing. 

“If you have nothing better to do-”

Just as you’re about to find a task to give to the youngest, the doorbell rings and in walks a pair of friends. Their giggling and badly hushed squeals tell you everything you need to know.

“Better get in the character,” you say, already giving up, and move on to the cake display and check the temperature. The display cooler is new, but after the fiasco that was the last one you want to make sure.

“What do you mean by character?” he puts a hand over his chest. He’s already acting, though. “I just have powers nobody can explain.”

You scoff, almost bumping into him while he keeps shuffling on the floor. He’s just doing it to get on your nerves at this point.

“What the hell?” you hiss at him quietly.

He looks at you for real. The look in his eyes is close to desperate when his gaze flicks towards the girls and then back to you, standing conveniently between them and him. You only laugh a little. It’s ridiculous how dramatic he’s being, and you wonder why he has to be this eccentric all the time.

“Not ‘hell’, they’re powers from a higher good! And I wasn’t kidding yesterday,” he remains serious - whatever his version of serious is anyway, “There’s someone really close to you who’s interested in you.”

You don’t really want to indulge his delusions but since he’s still behaving like a child seeing his least favorite relative and the girls are taking ages ordering, you decide just once won’t hurt.

“Yeah? Tell me more,” you say simply.

At this point he’s basically cornered against the counter and the girls keep looking your way. There’s very few options left how he could cower from them. He seems more focused on you, however, delight written all over his face.

“Literally so close that when you realize you’ll feel so stupid you’ll want to bang your head against a wall.”

“Already do,” you sigh.

You might say that but there’s something charming about the way Jeonghan tenderly holds onto your sleeve, the way his head isn’t buried in your shoulder but you feel his every breath on your skin anyway. He’s careful not to press himself against you and you appreciate that, even though you’re long since you used to people being squeezed together behind the counter on the busier days. His current position makes your work much harder nonetheless. Though you suppose you’re just making yourself look busy at this point.

Not that you’re not grateful to Joshua, but damn, couldn’t he leave at least something for you to do without customers around?

“Yeah? Any guesses who could be your secret admirer?” Jeonghan whispers. The girls are paying already and you have no idea what he's hoping to accomplish. They’ve seen him already when they walked in and they see him now.

Fortunately they sprint over before the silence after his question gets long enough that it’d demand you to answer.

Like somebody flipped a switch in Jeonghan’s brain, he springs us from behind you and greets the girls at his corner, asking them for just a moment to let him work his magic.

You join Chan in Jeonghan-watching while he works after he sends you away to prepare the order himself. Not that unusual, although you’d like to have something to do so that the shift passes quickly. It always pleases the fans, though, and this time too it doesn’t fail to make them swoon over his long fingers, his tongue flicking out to wet his pretty lips, or the bow tied on the small of his back that looks so cute and accentuates his slim waist. It’s always this way. You think you learned what they’re into quite well. And it’s not difficult to see. 

You’re just more used to it now.

“Do you think my training could include some one-on-one with him?” Chan whispers to you, “I mean I have no problem getting a date if I want to-”

“You must be really against dating right now then,” you can’t resist teasing him. You have no idea if he’s dating or not, but you suppose if he wants Jeonghan’s help of all people, he must be desperate. Then you remember he’s just a newbie. He doesn’t know him well yet.

“Hey!” he punches your shoulder lightly, “It’s just- He’s on another level, okay?”

“I guess,” you murmur, “But he’s still as single as us, so he must be a loser beyond getting a number.”

“You think so?” he tilts his head, “Makes sense.”

“Yeah, so you just do you.”

Fridays tend to be slower, what with most of the students from the nearby university preferring a club to a small cafe by the time the end of the week rolls around, but it’s just as well. At least you get to show Chan how to do things properly whenever a learning opportunity comes around and for once it’s Jeonghan who has his hands full with work. So much so that both you and the cashier help - at least when all the customers are waiting to get their coffee and reading.

There’s not much you can do to actually help, but whenever you slide the plated desserts on the counter, ready to be matched with the coffee, prepare the boxes for the takeout orders, or you hand him a cup only waiting for him to mess up the milk, he gives you a grateful smile. You think that when your fingers brush occasionally, he might be doing it on purpose - occasionally here being an understatement, but it doesn’t happen all the time either. Whatever, you suppose that’s his own way of saying thanks. 

Slowly, though, even that crowd starts to thin out. 

Back when he used to work here, Seungkwan would always say that seeing Jeonghan and getting a cake were both a sweet treat for the students coming here on Friday evening. 

You wonder if they’d think of him as sweet if they were forced to work with him and deal with his whining.

It’s not that you want to entertain his quirks when you let him rest his head on your shoulder after the place empties. It’s just for now. And when you pet his hair whenever he sighs deeply, you’re just being a supportive coworker. It’s just that he really did work hard.

Jeonghan’s other shenanigans and the shit he puts whoever is unlucky enough to be on the shift with him through make it easy to forget the effort he puts into what he does. All the talking, making stuff up on the spot, the creativity that requires. You don’t think you could ever match that - especially with your social battery being as faulty as it is. And whenever he can, he insists on preparing the orders entirely by himself - and whenever he abandons you to the rest of the orders, even this is a big help. He never really complains either, his sighs and whining are mostly for attention.

Perhaps you’re too harsh on him sometimes. He doesn’t have it easy, just the same as you. 

“We’re almost done,” you pet his hair one more time and wave goodbye to Chan. For the remaining two hours, it’s gonna be just you and Jeonghan. The man on your shoulder doesn’t bother to lift his head and blindly waves as well.

You look around the cafe, empty safe for a single man at the table in the corner. He looks like he’ll be leaving soon too. It’s a relief, especially after the catastrophe that was your last shift together.

It’s been a while since you last closed with Jeonghan, however, so you can only hope that in the little time you have left he won’t do anything that would sour today’s experience. 

“If we start now, we’ll be finished sooner,” you whisper to him, and finally he raises his head. Over the couple months you learned that nothing motivates him quite like the prospect of going home soon. At least one thing you have in common.

“Do you want to do the clean up here?” Jeonghan suggests, but his tone couldn’t be more hopeful that you’ll say no. You huff and shake your head.

“It’s fine, I’ll just do the lobby and help you out when I’m done,” you grant his wish. Truthfully you don’t really care either way. And at least on lobby duty you get to have some space and walk around.

He thanks you cutely, promising another free reading just for you - which you immediately decline, but you know better than to expect him not to go through with it.

The time you have left passes in a breeze. Barely anyone comes in and when they do, they usually take their coffee to go. Stars really must have aligned for you today. Thus you get to wipe down the tables and the counter, clean the bathroom and sweep the floor before it’s officially closing time. You’re so excited by how lucky you’ve gotten that you don’t mind Jeonghan’s victorious smirk when you automatically take over some of his tasks once the clock strikes the closing time. After all it doesn’t matter that he gets to go home sooner when it’s a win for you too.

Once again you’re amazed by how smoothly you work with him. It’s an effortless flow without the need for words. Sure, the tasks you’re capable of doing on autopilot, but whenever you help out the others, it’s never this simple. 

“Thank you,” Jeonghan smiles at you once everything is done and you join him at the back after checking again that you haven’t forgotten anything. 

“Don’t mention it,” you return the smile and stretch your arms above your head, closing your eyes in bliss. You can’t wait to be home.

“No, I will - I promised, didn’t I?”

You don’t like his tone. You really really really don’t like his tone. Allowing your arms to go limp, you let them hang beside your body. Your eyes stay closed.

“Come on, it’s nothing bad,” his voice softens. Maybe you get why he’s so popular. Or maybe it’s late and you’re tired.

When you open your eyes, there’s a small cup of ice latte being held out to you. You frown but he just chuckles. “I kept it in the fridge.”

“And I was wondering why you were acting so weird,” you sigh but you take the cup - or try to, only he doesn’t let go. “Not again.”

“If you look here,” he dismisses your protests. His fingers are cold against yours. “That line and this line are almost one, see? Your secret admirer is closer than before. You should take your chance.” 

You try not to smile but you do anyway, tired and resigned to your fate. “Anything more?”

“Yeah, actually if you follow this… You’re not listening, are you?” Jeonghan pouts when he realizes that you’re not looking at the coffee at all. He holds your gaze.

“Thank you, I really appreciate this,” you finally manage to slip the cup from his hand. You immediately take a long sip, you need something to get you through the way home. It’s good, great, but that’s no surprise. He might not be trained in latte art, but he makes good coffee.

“What are you going to do about your admirer though?” he wiggles his eyebrows at you. You give him a long look and note the discrepancy in his body language and his voice. He sounds playful, the upward curl of his lips give off that feeling too, but he seems tense otherwise. His eyes seem nervous. The late hour must be getting to him too.

“Wait,” you shrug, then elaborate when he gives you a confused stare, “I’m not into this kind of game, Jeonghan. If someone likes me, they shouldn’t be hiding it.”

He looks caught off guard, his mouth hanging open slightly.

“That is - if there was a secret admirer. I’m not buying your nonsense,” you push his shoulders and turn to your locker with a satisfied smile to take your things and stuff the rest in. Finally you silenced the great charlatan Yoon.

“Hey, my predictions always come true,” he bounces back quickly, “The customers tell me all the time.”

“You literally tell them the most generic shit,” you roll your eyes, shutting your locker, “Look, it was really nice today, so let’s not fight.”

He opens his mouth with, displeasure tugging at his lips. There’s a moment of tense silence before he eventually settles on a short dramatic monologue about never being taken seriously by close minded people like you. You watch him while you sip the coffee and check your watch. There’s enough time before your bus comes and now that your last shift of the week is over, you feel relaxed enough not to mind his company.

You make sure to lock up the place and have Jeonghan check that it’s actually locked. Just to be sure, despite the teasing that follows. There’s no malice in his voice, if anything he looks fond and nudges you with his elbow, reassuring you that he only finds it cute.

Sipping on the coffee while you walk, you enjoy how peaceful the night is. The street is empty, safe for the two of you, but you know it’s not gonna be that way once you reach the main road. For now, though, you actually feel quite comfortable chatting with Jeonghan. He's good company when he’s not infuriating.

“So anyway, I won them the whole game,” Jeonghan finishes boasting about his recent outing with Joshua and the new guy you have yet to meet - apparently he’s called Jun and is hopeless at basketball.

“Sure you did,” you snicker. Just to see him whine and try to persuade you he’s not lying. Although unexpectedly you have to admit that seeing him act out some complicated moves without the ball is both amusing and strangely impressive. He never striked you as someone as athletic as he seems to be. 

“Alright, alright, I believe you. Don’t hurt yourself, you’re working the weekend, aren’t you?” you laugh, holding him by the elbow to stop him from more demonstrations. 

“Yeah, jealous hm?” he frees his arm from your hold and throws it around your shoulders. You scoff and shrug him off. 

“Not really, the older I get the more I value my free time over money,” you push him away when he moves too close again. He just laughs at the annoyed glare you give him.

“You know I think your secret admirer is tied to the cafe, so maybe you should come in. Make sure there’s someone to grow old with you,” he hums thoughtfully, but the look in his eyes lets you know he actually means the suggestion.

“No thanks, I’ll be happy not to see the place for a few days,” you wave him off. The ice clashes together as you shake the almost empty cup. Just in time. The main street is already in sight and with it, the bus stop too. Only a few minutes now and you’ll be on your way home, spacing out with your music. “Also you’re more obsessed with this idea of a secret admirer than me. Maybe you should confront one of yours.”

“What do you mean?” he stops walking suddenly. You stop too, your brows furrow on their own. He looks the most serious you’ve ever seen him. Actually serious.

“Your army of fans, duh,” you shrug, keeping your tone playful to hopefully lighten the atmosphere, “I bet every single one of them is in love with you. They’re not exactly discreet.”

He puts his hands on his hips and takes a deep breath, then exhales just as slowly. If it wasn’t him, if you didn’t know him as well as you think you know him, you’d be scared. Even so you watch him warily.

“I don’t care about them,” he says plainly, “It’s fun for the job, but I don’t care about anything beyond that.”

You swallow uneasily, watching him stare at you with an unreadable expression.

“I was just kidding. I’m sorry,” you apologize. He must notice how uncomfortable you feel because he runs a hand through his hair and gives you a small smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you,” he catches up with you, “I just take my magic very seriously.”

You burst out. You’ve had people call latte art magic. Never the fuck ups. At least Jeonghan seems relieved to see you laugh too and you can continue the walk comfortably again.

For someone who spent the day making shit up, he has enough inspiration to keep going. By the time you reach the stop and the bus comes into view, you have tears in your eyes as Jeonghan keeps exaggerating and telling you, very seriously, about the inner workings of his magic and deals he had to make with different deities to acquire his powers.

He only shuts up when the bus stops in front of you and the doors open.

“Thank you for today, Jeonghan,” you babble through fits of laughter, “It was great.”

“Thank you too,” he smiles gingerly, “And don’t laugh at me. Or you’ll make some powerful enemies.”

“I don’t doubt that,” you shake your head, “Bye now.”

“Bye.”

You get on the bus and take a seat by the window. Jeonghan doesn’t move from his spot, you see him get smaller and smaller as the vehicle takes off. 

Despite the coffee, you feel tired. Tired but happy, you realize. You wipe your eyes and chuckle. If only every shift could be like this.

You keep grinning even as you put on your headphones and start the music. The glass is cold against your forehead and you hope it’ll keep you from falling asleep. Although you suppose it wouldn’t be so bad now that you feel this content.

The weekend passes by way too quickly. The bed remains unmade and the couch remains a messy nest of blankets and pillows, although that’s hardly surprising seeing as that’s where you spend most of the time. Some chores got done, some didn’t, but you tell yourself that’s fine. You’ll just do them before or after work, it’d be pointless to waste your completely free days on things like that. Starting on Monday sounds better than starting on Sunday night.

Some part of you feels guilty about not being more productive, but when you lay down in bed, you realize that you hold no tension in your shoulders and you remind yourself you’re not a machine. You need to rest too. Chores will wait. Being productive will wait. What needs to be done isn’t going anywhere - the time you get to spend on your hobbies is.

You settle in bed and set up the alarm for tomorrow. You don’t work until afternoon and you’re going to bed early, but you’d rather be safe than sorry.

Staring at the ceiling, you don’t think you’re gonna fall asleep any time soon, but that just can’t be helped. Just closing your eyes should provide some rest, and who knows, maybe your body will surprise you.

It’s hard to keep track of time with your eyes closed and your mind racing. You’ve already thought of six sick burns that you wish you had ready when you needed them, you’ve won two philosophical debates, and you were about to invent a life changing knick-knack if only your phone didn’t light up and didn’t alert you to a new text message.

You consider ignoring it. Nobody really texts you, so it’s most likely just some spam or they got the wrong number.

But then it rings again.

And again.

You pick up the phone and squint at the screen.

The messages keep going.

[envy-of-the-apple]

the jjk naga au is getting to me……..i fear im terminally ill with thoughts about it (seriously, top of the food chain is such a yummy series (?) and im soso obsessed with how you've written gojo’s and geto’s characters, i reread your works everyday, i just can't get enough! ^^)

and i hope you don't mind if i share a Thought i've had :3 (i was going for an mc who used to draw/sketch/make art just for this specific scenario)

Imagine that your time on the island's barely dragging on. There's only so many berries to pick and so many times you can braid Suguru’s hair into elaborate styles. You're bored, stranded on an island with these two naga captors and their (adorable) hatchlings.

Well, there's always playing with the hatchlings, or tussling with Satoru (he calls it playtime but you're far from amused when you get a faceful of sand when he tugs your legs out from under you) but you miss your alone time. That little bubble of yours. Ah, privacy. 

Like that'd happen, but you can dream.

It's a stroke of chance when Nobara comes to you with her new haul of human paraphernalia, all too excitedly. A leather satchel. Some printed photos of nameless faces with scenic backgrounds. A waterlogged cell phone, practically unsalvageable. A journal with pages so thoroughly soaked, it falls apart in wet clumps.

“What are these?” You can hear her rummage through the bag, her nose wrinkling slightly. “Smells weird.” And so you look over to see her glaring down at a (relatively new) set of oil paints, sealed away in the bag. It's likely that she picked up on the scent of the strange chemicals.

Your eyes are bright with hope as you gently pull it out of her hold. Ready to answer her million and one questions.

…

After all this time that you've thought of what you'd wished to be able to do, you're at a loss. You've got a wall to the cave to yourself, a set of oil paints and a makeshift brush from the wood of this one particular tree off the side of the island. The only thing you're missing right now is inspiration.

A muse.

Satoru and Suguru are snoozing. Peaceful and laid in each other's arms. you can appreciate the quiet to yourself.

You hear familiar shrieks and playful yells of the hatchlings' name. 

The slight bit of quiet, then.

Nobara and Yuji are wrestling in the water, arguing over something in a mix of clicks and curse words. The sight is an endearing one, but moving too quick.

So you do some searching inward.

And you paint what comes to mind. What you've felt this whole time.

…

“What's that?” Ever the curious one, Nobara rests her head on your shoulder to peer over at your artwork in progress. She doesn't understand any of it—and she wouldn't. Your human upbringing is leagues different from hers.

“... Home.” You murmur, and Nobara’s glancing up at you in wonder because of the way your eyes glisten, the way your hand lingers over to paint in a fine detail.

“Well, it was my home.” You smile back at her, and she's at ease. You're not sad—no, she'd make it everybody's problem if you were—and then she makes sure to know everything about the scene you've drawn.

“What's that?” She gestures. Careful not to smudge the paint off, index outstretched to a figure she doesn't recognise.

“That's a lamp. When it gets dark, we switch it on so there's light. Like the torches in the cave, you see?”

“Torch? Hmm… and that?”

It seems that talking about your old home brings a warmth to your voice. Nobara beams up at you all giddy as you explain, eager to learn more. Eventually Yuji slinks over to listen as well, more so to the sound of your voice than what you're saying.

You sound happy, the pair can tell. Like when you taste a berry sweeter than the others, or when you tell them stories of your own to lull them to sleep. They like the chime of joy in your voice, and neither stops you from rambling about your once-home. 

It's a moment of peace. and warmth.

Yet it shatters for you when you feel a strong muscled tail coil around your waist, that familiar sense of having your space invaded taking over. A very intrigued Satoru looms over you, eyes glinting as he takes in the sight. You know that something's off—he seems more punishing with how tight he holds you.

“Home, huh?” Satoru repeats, and even the hatchlings can tell that's their cue to leave. Nobara offers you a lingering glance, almost pouty before she slithers away, following after her brother.

…

The next early morning, you find your home gone. 

In a sense, it's a bitter joke to be played on you. Not only were you never going to be back at your own place, even the expression of the idea was taken away from you. Just like your freedom was. your choice. The wall of the cave was bare, not a hint of the paint or the sentiment lingering behind. As if someone hit a total reset. Paints nowhere to be found, your canvas scrubbed clean.

Suguru stretches out from behind you, one of the first few to wake up, wrapping you in a lazy hug, before he follows your gaze. You'd call the soft laugh that rumbles in his chest cruel. Mocking your homesickness in that loving way only he could manage.

“Must've rained last night.” He comments at the absence of your artwork, and you wish you could pinpoint at least an inch or sarcasm in his words. You nod quietly, and he draws you in closer.

Cold lips brush against your temple. 

“The only home you need is with us.”

The sand under your feet is drier than your throat.

(oh my god im sorry if i rambled too much, i hope its not annoying ^^;;)

jaw dropping. amazing. wHAT????

I love how anon made Nobara's characterization so much sweeter and innocent. Though it's probably cuz she's younger in this fic...considering she can still stay on land. And satosugu not even wanting you to THINK of your old home is so accurate. I feel the more they learn your language, the more eager they'll be to display ownership.

Anyway thx anon for making the fourth part! from now on if anyone wants an addition to the naga series turn to the anons not me.

[slasherbvnnie]

Until We Found You | Part VII

Welcome to Part VII, we’re officially nearing the end... two more parts left of this mini series! It’s been fun writing this, I hope you all come to enjoy the next mini series or my drabbles. As always, heed the tags below.

Modern Day College Scream AU, Obsessed AFAB!Reader, Eventual Poly!Ghostface x reader, Eventual NSFW, All characters 18+

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VI Part VIII Part IX

Word Count: 1685

Music bounced off the walls of the Macher’s household, Stu playing one of his infamous playlists as everyone from uni was either drinking, fucking, making out or taking hits of various substances. Your little group was gathered in front of the tv, watching Halloween. Stu and Tatum were cuddled up, Sidney was leaned back in Billy’s arms and Randy was cuddling up with one of the couch pillows. You however were sat next to Colton, aka, the dude Stu had scared off the day before. When you arrived to the party with Sidney and Tatum, you two locked eyes and he was hesitant to walk over to you. You explained to Colton that Stu was just trying to scare him off yesterday and even though you explained how things were complicated- leaving out the whole being in love with serial killers note- he took that as still having a chance.

No one in your group noticed the glares Stu and Billy were giving Colton, not even Bailey himself, but the boys continued to stare daggers right into his skull. If they had been real ones, Colton would have been done for since the second he sat down next to you. Hell, they were probably planning ways to murder him the second Stu noticed someone had invited him to the party. Tatum had moved from Stu’s hold and said she was off to get more alcohol, heading out towards the garage. Colton took the opportunity to show to your friends that he was kind and insisted on helping her. The two left, Tatum raising her brows and smiling at you, mouthing if he was your secret lover. You laughed, giving her a shrug as she rolled her eyes and continued out to the garage with him.

After some time passed and your little group participated with drinking, dancing, and the respective couples making out in the private rooms, you and Colton were left talking on the porch as most people from the party left. Randy headed out as well, having an early shift tomorrow while your other friends stayed since Stu offered for them to spend the night. Sid and Billy were upstairs, Stu and Tatum off god knows where and you were just relaxing with Colton. “So is it really that complicated?” He questioned you as you shrugged, “we just don’t know if we want to be a thing yet.” You said with a shrug, Colton nodding as he finished off his beer. “I am going to get us some refills so we can finish this conversation,” he said with a smile as you laughed and nodded. You felt a bit weird, you were falling head over heels for your two masked lovers, but deep down inside you, you wondered if they would ever reveal themselves to you. You didn’t know if you could handle the heartbreak of never being with them. As he went back inside you saw Tatum emerging with a drunk Sidney wrapped around her shoulders, “I’m going to drop Sidney off at home, she puked all in the guest room. Stu said he’s gonna kick out the stragglers soon,” she said, you patted Sidney on her back. “Feel better, maybe Billy gave you mono,” you joked as she whined and stumbled off with Tatum to her car.

After you watched them drive off you looked back inside, wondering what was taking Colton so long. You sighed, about to walk in before noticing someone in the corner of your eye. You turned towards the figure, seeing your beloved masked killer standing there. “So you are stalking me,” you said as you stood up. They tilted their head, approaching you as you looked around to see if anyone was watching. You were about to say something else before they grabbed your wrist, holding up your arm to them before they swiped the knife across your skin. “What the fuck?” You yelled out, trying to pull your arm away from them before you heard glass drop on the floor. You once again tried to pull away, only to let out a scream when you felt the knife cut your side. You looked to them with tears in your eyes, “why?” You screamed at them before you turned to see Colton there, beers dropped onto the porch as he ran and pushed you away from the killer, “Get the fuck off of her, freak!” He yelled as the killer let go of your wrist, Colton punched them but quickly stopped when he was stabbed in his side. You let out a scream, adrenaline filling your veins as you tried to act surprised, but you weren’t sure if it was an act after all, they had tried to stab you. One of your secret lovers tried to stab you, the tears that fell out began to blur your vision. “Go get help!” Colton yelled to you before the killer once again wounded him, you backed away as you saw the blood, running inside the house.

Your heart was somehow beating a thousand miles a minute despite being shattered. You didn’t know if it was one of your boys behind the mask or some wannabe killer, but you cried as you ran, wondering if they were using you all along. You saw people scattering from your screams, looking around to see who could help. You ran upstairs to find Stu, running into him as you tried to get to his room. “Stu!” You yelled, putting your hands on his chest as you tried to get him to move. “Stu, we have to go, the killer-“ you pleaded, grabbing onto him as he smiled and grabbed your wrists. “Stu?” You asked, looking up at him as he chuckled. “Don’t worry, little minx. We won’t hurt you, not any more than he did.” He said as he held up your arm that was injured. “Billy sure is mean to you, isn’t he doll,” He said as he wiped away your waterfall of tears. “Sorry about that, he was watching us,” you heard the familiar voice say from behind you. You backed away from Stu, staring back and forth at the two of them. “What?” You asked, confused on what was happening, the adrenaline from earlier making you disoriented and dizzy. “Wasn’t it obvious? I mean Oliver? Oliver’s fucking goons? Colton? Hell we haven’t gotten to Sid and Tate yet,” Stu said as you furrowed your brows and squinted at him. “We?” You asked as the killer laughed, walking closer to you and pulling off his mask. “We, us, the two standing in front of you.” Billy said as you looked to them, stepping back away once more. You were having trouble trying to understand that they were the two killers, the two you slept with, the two you unknowingly helped cheat against your best friends.

“I mean, we never intended for this to happen, Casey and Steve were just supposed to be random, but since Casey was Stu’s ex we needed someone to throw them off. You haven’t known Stu for very long, I mean, two years isn’t enough time to really know someone, right?” Billy explained, stepping closer to you. “You were supposed to be target number two, but Billy noticed all your little papers and drawings about us,” Stu said as he stood in front of you, tracing your face just like he had before. “And we couldn’t kill off our first little fan,” “No, we couldn’t have. You were too pretty,” Stu said as he stepped behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist as Billy now stood in front of you.

“Plus, with how good you made us feel, we couldn’t gut you after that,” he chuckled, tracing the bloody knife along your cheek. “But, Sid and- and Tate,” you said softly, Billy smirking. “It’s just taken a bit longer to get to them. Tatum was supposed to be next but your stupid study date got in our way. Oh, and Sidney is our big grand finale. But when you mentioned Oliver and his group, we had some other business to do,” he said as Stu laughed. “We would have brought you his heart as a little momento but you can guess how that would have been bad,” Stu said as you sniffled, “what’s wrong, little bunny?” Billy asked, you shook your head. All the information was hitting you all at once, Tatum and Sidney were going to die, Colton was bleeding out on the porch, and the boys you had known for only two years or less were the ones who planned it all.

“It’s just a lot,” you admitted, sniffling once more. “You didn’t even trust me yesterday, do you know how sad that made me? And- and you tried killing me! I mean jesus fuck I even had a crush on both of you without the mask! And all this time while you two have been sneaking in and out of my bedroom you’ve had girlfriends who you’ve been kissing and fucking and just-“ your rant was ended when Billy put his lips on yours, you pushed at his chest, backing up into Stu. “Don’t worry, you’re going to survive this with us. We’re going to move Bailey so Tatum won’t see him. After that, we take care of her and then we go get Sid. I mean, after all, it’s not us doing it. It’s all poor Mr. Prescott,” Stu said as you looked to him. “Mr. Prescott? But hes-“ “he’s in the closet. All tied up and waiting for his big debut, psycho dad.” Billy said as he looked to you. “Come on, get yourself together, it’s time for act three baby,” He said as he pat your cheek, flashing you his infamous grin. “Don’t worry, doll, you’ll be a big tv star. Gale is going to be up your ass after tonight! Up all our asses!” Stu laughed, “Who knows, maybe you’ll get the latest hottest actress to play you in the movie they’ll make about us,” he said as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you downstairs.

[spookberry]

Shadow High series 3 my new beloved

I didnt even like most of em until i saw them in person, but the knowledge that they'll probably never be in the show has my brain in a "well its free realestate" kinda mood

Random list of information cuz ive been plotting out friend dynamics and background lore

-i like to pretend Rainbow High/Shadow High are actually Rainbow University/Shadow University cuz im in art college Right Now and i think it makes more sense with the whole dorm room situation. And also major makes more sense than focus IMO

-I changed Pinkie's major from film to just undeclared. I think she eventually does land on Film. She just has a lot of interests! Her dream has always been to one day direct films, and I think she comes to love them even more while developing ideas her with the group as she winds up in a Director/Producer position for most of them. BUT also every time she takes a class in a different program she cant help but fall in love with that way of making art too. So she has a hard time picking for a while and changed her major a couple times before landing on Film.

-Pinkie and Berrie bond a lot over a shared interest in vocal synths (tho Berrie knows more about them than her).

-The two made Pinkie's vtuber model together!

-the fandom wiki says PJ is from germany?? Idk how canon that is tbh but ive decided to embrace it i guess

-Rooney's canon name is Scarlet Rose, but i thought it was kinda lame especially when Rosie Redwood is also in this line sooo I renamed her! Stuck to the color name puns tho. Mar Rooney. Maroon. Haha

-Speaking on her though i love that shes from texas and likes writing scifi mystery type stuff and that being said i just Know deep in my bones that she was a Voltron Legendary Defender fan and Keith was/is 100% her favorite. She has a continued fondness for mothman specifically cuz of this.

-PJ and Rooney actually talk about fandom and shows/movies ALL the time. They dont have a ton of overlapping interests, but where they do? The two literally never shut up.

-Rosie is such a random character, like outside of her design she feels very poorly considered. So I scrapped the cosmetology thing and made her an illustrator instead! I think it works better with her love of making art in nature. I can see her being really into illustrated guide books. I think shes a bit snooty when it comes to art too. It takes being friends with other artists to become more open minded.

-I like the idea that Rosie is mainly friends with Rooney and Berrie ontop of that. The three of them often tag team storylines and how theyd interpret them into different mediums. Rosie will draw up a bunch of concept stuff while Rooney writes up a pitch bible and Berrie will start making shit move and throwing in her own ideas on camera angles and character designs.

-as an animation major Berrie was required to take a sound design class early on, which is where she met Oliver! Hes very laid back, and likes to go with the flow, but functions a little like the "mom" of the group. Often reminding the girls to take breaks, drink water, stop looking at their screens lest they get eye strain etc. He's multi-talented tbh but Music is his one true passion and he likes how the girls are always giving him collaboration opportunities.

-Oliver and Rosie like to talk sports a lot, both having played a bunch when they were younger and throughout high school.

-Lavender Lynn is Oliver's number one "person who needs constant reminders to settle down" she is in a constant buzz of trying to get the best shots and is utterly obsessed with the process of artistic documentation. Everything must be documented.

-the whole school loves her for this actually, she has a whole side gig where other students hire her to help photograph their projects. She saves everything she earns from this for her future dream plans to visit paris. She has it set really, many of the artists who she helps photograph now will remain steadfast clients of hers forever onward.

-PJ and Lynn actually took a print media class together at one point. Which didnt at the time spark an everlasting friendship. But it did give PJ an easier in to ask for Lynn's help documenting a project the group was working on. One of Lynn's first times photographing them work happened to fall on a day where Rosie had planned to trick everyone into going on a nature walk sans devices... Lynn wound up really appreciating this outing and decided to continue hanging around the group even after that project had ended.

[vintageshanny]

Waiting for Love - Part One

He’s a Married Man

I felt inspired and started a brand new series! It’s a bit different from anything else I’ve done, and I’d love to hear your thoughts and feedback! ❤️

Content: Story starts in summer of 1970, marriage problems, infidelity, smut (lighter in this first chapter but still there), fun Elvis-y things, 18+

Read the full series here!

Early July 1970

Vivien walked slowly past the Graceland gate on her way home from work. She always told herself that if she didn’t actually stop and wait, she wasn’t one of those crazy obsessed fans. She was just a normal curious person. Who walked five blocks out of her way every day in a pathetic attempt to catch a glimpse of Elvis Presley. There were a few other fans milling about, but it was too hot for a huge crowd. Right as she was about to cross over the driveway entrance, a big black car came roaring down the street, barely slowing to turn into the drive where the gate was starting to open. Vivien’s jaw dropped open as Elvis himself leaned out of the passenger window with a big smile.

“Hey, honey, didn’t mean ta scare ya. Got a crazy driver here,” he said, pointing a thumb over at the stocky man behind the wheel. Elvis gave Vivien a quick glance up and down and smiled again. “Were ya waitin’ for me?”

Vivien smoothed out her knee-length skirt and quickly glanced down to make sure none of the buttons on her short-sleeved blouse had popped open. She was always having trouble with that third one down. The one that would reveal the most, of course. So far, so good. “Oh, um,” she stumbled over her words. “I, um, was walking home from work, but it is nice to see you though.” Her face turned red as Elvis chuckled.

“It’s nice ta see you too, honey. It’s too hot ta be sittin’ out here talkin’, but why don’t ya come to the movies with us t’night,” he said it as more of statement than a question. “A group of us are goin’ to the Memphian. Just come in the side door at 10:00 and say Joe invited you.” The driver rolled his eyes at this, but neither Vivien nor Elvis seemed to notice.

Vivien tried in vain to keep her cool as she exclaimed, “Oh, wow, okay, I’d love to.” As she pushed her glasses up on her nose, she made eye-contact with Elvis right as he was also adjusting his own tinted glasses. They both laughed, and Elvis gave her a little wink.

“Okay, honey, I’ll see ya t’night,” he called out as the car continued up the winding driveway. Vivien was pretty sure her smile was lighting up the whole city as she continued her walk home.

As soon as she got inside her apartment, she picked up the phone. “Roxanne, I need you to come over right now. It’s a fashion emergency.” Ten minutes later, her best friend arrived at the door from her apartment two buildings down, panting and out of breath.

“I got here as fast as I could! What’s going on? Hot date?” Roxanne asked as she barged in and flopped on the couch.

Vivien bobbed up and down excitedly as she squealed, “I’m going to the Memphian with Elvis Presley!”

“What?! When?!” Roxanne exclaimed, jumping up from the couch and then sinking back down onto it in shock.

“Tonight! I told you my walking by the gate every day would pay off eventually,” Vivien announced triumphantly. “And you have to go with me! I’m sure he wouldn’t mind; he said it would be a big group.”

Roxanne’s face dropped a little bit. “I can’t tonight!” she wailed. “Michael made us reservations for this fancy anniversary dinner, and he’ll kill me if I bail on him. Especially for another man. I’ll just have to live vicariously through your stories about the night,” she sighed dreamily.

“Has it been one year already? I didn’t know you had it in you,” Vivien teased.

“Oh, very funny, goody two-shoes,” Roxanne retorted. “At least I’ve had something in me.” Vivien blushed at that dig. She’d always been holding out for something really special. “Speaking of that,” Roxanne continued, “are you gonna try to hook up with him tonight?”

“Who? Elvis?” Vivien asked with shock.

“No, the pope. Of course Elvis! He invited you personally, he probably thought you looked cute in your little secretary outfit,” Roxanne said with a knowing wink.

“N-no, he-he’s a married man,” Vivien sputtered out. “I’m just excited to be around him and maybe talk to him. I bet he’s so interesting to talk to.”

“Hmm,” Roxanne tutted disapprovingly. “Well, I think you should go for it. I heard that marriage has been on the rocks since the beginning anyway,” she said as Vivien shot her a look. “I’m just saying, you could be waiting in the wings. Now let’s find you something to wear.”

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

At 9:55pm, Vivien stepped off the bus two blocks from the theater, feeling severely overdressed in a low-cut sparkly cocktail dress and red kitten heels, her wavy dark brown hair pulled back off her face with a jeweled hair clip. Well, that’s what she got for asking Roxanne’s advice. She should’ve known she’d be sent out into the world looking like a good-time girl. Roxanne also told her, in no uncertain terms, that she was not to wear her glasses. Despite the fact that she wouldn’t be able to see the movie, or probably even recognize Elvis from across the lobby, she followed the advice and tucked them in her purse before heading toward the side door of the theater as instructed.

A red-headed man was acting as some sort of security guard right outside the door. Vivien told him she was invited by Joe and he held the door open for her to go in. She was surprised to find that the side door led directly into the darkened theater. Patton was just starting. She squinted down the aisle looking for any familiar faces but found nothing, so she nervously sat down in an empty seat, wondering if she would even see Elvis at all. Her nerves, plus the fact that everything on the screen looked fuzzy, made it hard to even focus on what was happening in the movie. She decided to sneak out to the lobby and see if the concession stand had anything that might settle her stomach, which had been doing flip-flops since she stepped off the bus. She rose and quickly scurried down the aisle, trying not to block anyone’s view of the movie.

Vivien pulled her wallet out of her purse to pay for her 7-Up and noticed she had brought a copy of Khalil Gibran’s The Prophet, one of her favorite books. She decided maybe she’d just find a spot to sit and read until the movie was over. Maybe she could catch Elvis’ attention on his way out. She wandered the little lobby looking for a spot to sit and ran right into Elvis coming out of the bathroom. His driver from earlier was standing next to the door. Vivien thought maybe she imagined it, but it looked like Elvis’ face lit up when he saw her.

“She is here!” Elvis turned to Joe and glared at him. “I told ya ta bring her ta sit with me when she got here.”

“I told Red to let me know when she got here! I said she had long dark hair and glasses…” Joe’s voice trailed off as he realized Vivien no longer matched his description.

Elvis started laughing as he realized what the problem was. “Why’d ya take your cute glasses off, honey? How’s anyone supposed ta find ya?”

Vivien smiled shyly. “Bad advice from a friend, I guess,” she said, fishing in her purse for her glasses. “Plus I didn’t know you’d be looking for me.”

“Hey, whatcha got there? The Prophet?” Elvis asked excitedly, noticing the book peeking out of her purse.

“Oh, yeah, I never go anywhere without a book,” Vivian admitted, feeling silly. Elvis looked at her, his eyes literally twinkling with delight.

“That’s one of my favorite books! You should come visit me tomorrow, I’d love ta talk to ya about it.” Elvis had now moved so close that their arms were touching. Vivien could hardly breath, so intoxicating was his presence.

“Are-are you sure?” she asked. “I mean, I’d love to talk to you more, but I don’t want to impose.”

“It’s no imposition, honey, I’m always up for some good conversation. Plus the guys’ll be busy tomorrow, right, Joe?” Elvis gave him a pointed look, letting him know they should make themselves busy. “I’ll be wantin’ some company. You don’t want me sittin’ there all lonely, do ya?” Vivien felt goosebumps raise on her skin as Elvis ran the backs of his fingers down her upper arm.

“No, of course not,” she whispered, suddenly unsure of exactly what he was asking. “I’d love to keep you company.” She felt embarassed at how flirty she was being with this married man, but she also couldn’t seem to stop smiling at him. It was all so surreal. Elvis pulled her in a for a tight hug, his arms wrapped all the way around her so that his fingers were brushing along the sides of her breasts. The affection he displayed had her weak in the knees.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow, honey. Come by around three. After breakfast,” he smiled and gave her a peck on the cheek. He started to walk away and then quickly turned back, asking, “What’s your name, dear? In case ya try ta go incognito again.”

“Vivien,” she said with a smile. “What’s yours?” Elvis tilted his head back and let out a loud burst of laughter before walking away. Vivien was floating so high that she almost didn’t wonder why he no longer wanted her to come sit with him. She supposed he’d found a new seat mate when he thought she wasn’t there. Maybe his wife?, she wondered. But then why would he be looking for me?

After the movies were over, Vivien hoped to say goodbye to Elvis again, but he was surrounded by fans, and she felt silly interrupting. She observed that he was affectionate with almost everyone, and worried she had read way too much into their conversation. Does he even really want me to come over? Since he had insisted, she decided it would be rude to not show up, but she tried to get her expectations in check. Plus, he’s a married man, she reminded herself.

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

The next day was Saturday, thank goodness, because Vivien had given no thought to her work schedule when agreeing to these outings. She wondered if Elvis even kept track of the days of the week like normal people had to. She had already decided not to call Roxanne until she got back from Graceland later. She didn’t want anyone else’s thoughts getting in her head; she was confused enough on her own. Unsure of what to wear or how fancy she should look, she decided to just be comfortable in some black capri pants and a red and white striped shirt that hugged her body in the way she liked. She slipped on some sandals, grabbed her book and purse, and headed out the door.

It was much more pleasant outside than it had been the day before, which was a relief. Vivien thought how awkward it would be to show up with sweat dripping down her face. Whoever was at the gate must have been expecting her, because they opened it right away and told her to just knock on the front door. Elvis answered the door himself, wearing crisp white pants and a satin-y red shirt with arm garters. His feet were bare, which made her heart flutter for some reason.

“Vivien! Perfect timing! I just finished gettin’ dressed,” he smiled. “Come on in.” He led her into a beautiful living room with a massively long couch. She noticed a framed photo on the coffee table of him, Priscilla, and their cute little daughter.

“You have a beautiful family, Elvis,” she commented when he noticed her staring at the picture.

“Oh, thanks,” he said, sounding a little dismissive of the compliment. “‘Cilla’s out of town right now. She went to visit her parents with Lisa.” He seemed to be answering a question that had been hanging in the air, unasked. Vivien just nodded and tried to look like this fact didn’t both excite and worry her.

“I brought my book. Is there any particular chapter you wanted to talk about?” she asked, hoping to guide the conversation away from absent spouses.

“All of it!” he said excitedly. She noticed he had a copy sitting on the coffee table as well. “Sit down and make yourself comfortable, honey. You can take your sandals off and just set your feet here.” He indicated the space on the couch next to him. Feeling a little self-conscious, Vivien curled up so that she was leaning slightly away from him but her bare feet were next to him. While they talked, Elvis would occasionaly rest his hand on her ankle or rub his fingers absent-mindedly over the top of her foot. It was very soothing. He didn’t seem to be aiming for anything more, just a soft, gentle affection. When the phone rang, he excused himself and said he’d be right back. He seemed slightly agitated when he returned.

“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Vivien questioned, noticing his tense demeanor.

“Yeah, honey, ever’thing’s fine,” he drawled. The butterflies in Vivien’s stomach flew into overdrive at the way the word “honey” always dripped off his tongue like the sweet sticky substance itself. Elvis sighed and continued on without any prompting, unable to keep his frustration to himself. “It’s jus’ ‘Cilla, she’s always got-got-gotta be so suspicious of me,” he vented, his irritation clearly growing. “She c-c-can’t believe I’d jus’ be talkin’ ta someone about books and stuff that she’s not even interested in. It’s always gotta be somethin’...nefarious with her,” he emphasized each syllable of “nefarious” and rubbed the back of his neck as he leaned back next to Vivien on the couch.

She swallowed nervously and nodded, trying not to be distracted by the way his chubby penis flopped loosely against his thigh when he leaned back, clearly uncontrained by any underwear. She actually wasn’t sure if it was chubby, but it looked like it would be, and she’d been sneaking enough glances at it to feel like she had an idea of what it would look like if he exposed it to her…Vivien was pulled out of her less-than-wholesome thoughts by the realization that Elvis had followed her eyes down to his lap and seemed to be reading her thoughts as if they were comic strip bubbles showing next to her head. Instead of the bravado he sometimes exuded, Vivien was surprised to see him blush and rest his hand on his lap in a way that blocked her view.

“W-w-where were we?” he stuttered, thumbing through the well-loved pages of The Prophet, pretending not to notice the way Vivien’s racing heartbeat seemed to make the whole couch shudder with desire.

“Don’t be too hard on her,” Vivien blurted out against her better judgment, causing Elvis to look up in surprise, his mouth slightly agape. “I mean,” Vivien began to ramble nervously, “if I were, um, if you and I, I mean,” she fought back at the tears of embarassment that were welling up in her eyes and started again. “If I had you, I wouldn’t probably like you talking to another woman much either,” Vivien cringed at her awkward wording. “I’d want you all to myself all the time, especially to talk about things you’re so passionate about,” she finished with a whisper, looking down nervously at her red-painted fingernails.

Elvis nodded his head slowly, considering her words. “W-w-well, ‘Cilla ain’t like that though. She ain’t interested in these things. Sometimes I feel we have nothin’ in common…” his voice trailed off sadly as he seemed to be contemplating all his life decisions in this moment. Then his soft lips tugged up into a crooked smirk and he looked over at Vivien slyly. “How often do ya think about havin’ me?” The bravado was back.

Sneaking just the tiniest peek back down at his crotch, Vivien racked her brain for a witty answer that wouldn’t sound ridiculous and came up with nothing. “It sure looks nice out,” she quickly changed the subject with a glance out the window.

“It sure does, honey,” Elvis chuckled. “We should take a break from the book and go for a swim.” Vivien flushed at the thought of seeing Elvis’ body in just some swim trunks.

“Oh, um, I don’t have a swimsuit with me,” she explained as he sized her up appraisingly.

“That’s okay, dear, I think I have somethin’ for ya,” he said, jumping up and hurrying upstairs. He came back five minutes later with a beaming grin and a little red and white polka dot bikini. “I bet this’ll fit ya okay.” Something in his cheeky grin told Vivien that he wouldn’t be too upset if it didn’t fit quite right. It looked very tiny.

“Oh, Elvis, I can’t wear your wife’s swimsuit,” Vivien protested, but he had clearly already made his mind up.

“It-it’s fine, honey, she ain’t gonna miss it. She had ten of ‘em up there, brand new, I jus’ cut the tags off.” Elvis grabbed her hand and pulled her along to the room leading out to the pool area. He nodded to the changing area and told her to just meet him out at the pool when she was ready. Vivien wriggled herself into the little suit and nervously eyed her reflection in the full-length mirror. Everything essential was covered, but a soft little roll of skin was squeezing out from the suit bottom, her butt felt too exposed, and her breasts were spilling out slightly from the molded cups on top. She bit down on her lip, trying to make a quick decision. If she got right in the water, the ill-fitting suit wouldn’t be too noticeable. She decided it would be much more embarassing to have to get dressed again and go tell him that the suit was too small.

Elvis let out a low whistle from his lawn chair as soon as she stepped outside. So much for sneaking right into the water, Vivien thought as Elvis jumped up and circled around her. Her heart started racing at the sight of him in little red swim shorts and a striped shirt. She sinfully wondered if there was any chance of something flopping out the bottom of the shorts.

“Damn, baby, I like the way you fill that suit out,” Elvis murmured as his eyes stayed a second too long on her overflowing bikini top.

“It’s a little too small,” Vivien couldn’t stop herself from pointing out.

“Nah, honey, it looks perfect.” That crooked smile sent the butterflies on another flight. “Now the rule is, to enter the pool, ya have ta go off the diving board,” Elvis announced with a mischievous smile.

“Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Vivien responded, thinking of all the body parts that could come flying out of her suit upon impact with the water.

“C’mon, Vivien,” he teased, giving her bare sides a little tickle with his long warm fingers. Her skin felt on fire from his touch. “Don’t be a party pooper. I’ll even go first!” He peeled off his t-shirt, causing a strange tingle to shoot through Vivien’s core, tossed it aside, and sprang into a messy dive, his long legs flailing a bit in the air. He surfaced, spitting water in the air like a fountain and beckoning her to come in. Vivien set her glasses on a little table by the chair, walked gingerly until her toes were at the edge of the diving board, took a deep breath, and plunged in, hoping for the best.

As she came up for air and pushed her dripping wet hair out of her face, she caught the flustered look on Elvis’ face that made her realize that her fear had come true. She glanced down to where his eyes were fixated on her chest, his lips hanging open slightly as his tongue subconciously slipped out and licked them. Vivien let out a little yelp when she saw that one of her nipples had escaped out of the bikini top and she quickly moved to tuck it back where it belonged. She covered her face in embarassment as Elvis swam closer to her. He pulled her hands down from her face and drew her into a gentle hug.

“Hey now, honey, ‘s okay. I wasn’t even lookin’...too much,” he said, trying to stifle a laugh as Vivien swatted at him.

“It’s not funny, Elvis, I’m embarassed,” she whispered, unable to look him in the eye.

“Aw, honey, you ain’t never gotta be embarassed around me. And it’s jus’ us here, okay? Good thing all the guys had errands to run today, ‘cuz I want ya ta save that show only for me, okay?” Vivien finally smiled a little at that and nodded. “Would it make ya feel any better ta see my nipples?” Elvis joked, pushing his chest out in an exaggerated fashion. Vivien laughed and blushed as she eyed his torso, willing her eyes not to keep going down further, but that little trail of hair leading down past his belly button was just so enticing. “Hey, my nipples are up here,” Elvis teased, catching her under the chin with his tanned fingers. Vivien’s head was swimming at how flirtatious things had gotten since she’d admitted that she had thought of… “having him.” He’s a married man…hold it together, Vivien, she whispered inside her head. As if sensing her nervousness, Elvis quickly changed the subject, pulling her over to lean against the wall of the pool. “I’ve been talkin’ your ear off all day about my problems. Tell me somethin’ about you, honey.”

“Um, well, I’m 21, I work as a secretary at a law firm, I was named after Vivien Leigh,” she started out tentatively, wondering how much Elvis was really interested in anything about her life.

“Really? Vivien Leigh?” he exclaimed, his rapt attention giving her the confidence to continue.

“Yeah, my mom really loved Gone With the Wind,” she said with a laugh. As she talked about her family, Vivien took note of how Elvis’ eyes and nose crinkled up so cutely when he laughed, how the drying hair of his sideburns curled up and tucked into his ears, how the hint of gray at his temples sparkled in the sunlight. As he reached over and brushed a stray hair out of her face, a little shiver ran through her body.

“Is the wa-wa too cold, honey?” he asked, looking concerned. “Lemme help ya onto the ledge here so you can warm up in the sun.” He lifted Vivien onto the ledge and leaned in between her legs as he sat her down. “That better?” She nodded and her breath caught in her throat as she stared down into his sparkly blue eyes. “Vivien, you are beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned in and pressed his pillowly lips to hers, slipping his tongue gently into her mouth. As he moved his lips down to the soft skin of her breast that was spilling out of the bikini top, her brain was screaming at her to stop him, but she couldn’t stop her body from responding to his every touch. He pulled the cup down a little bit, popping her nipple back out into the warm sunshine. Vivien let out an involuntary little gasp as he touched his tongue to her nipple and then sucked it into his mouth. As he rubbed his thumb over the saliva he left on it, he whispered, “See you ain’t gotta feel bad around me at all, honey. I ain’t gonna hurt ya.” He tucked it back into her top before leaning his head down and kissing her thigh. “Mmm, honey, you are drivin’ me crazy in this little suit. I see your cute little beaver wants ta come out and visit me,” he murmured as his fingers traced up Vivien’s inner thighs and rubbed gently at the dark wiry hairs escaping from the elastic of the bikini bottoms. Elvis hooked his long index finger into the elastic and tugged it to the side. He let out a groan as he slipped his fingers through the wetness. “You’re glistenin’ for me, Vivien,” he said with a smile.

“Elvis, I, um, ohhhh,” Vivien let out a load moan as Elvis slipped a finger inside of her. He tried to pump it, but her whole body seemed to tense up and his finger was meeting too much resistance. “Elvis, I’m sorry, um, I’m,” she started to explain her embarassing lack of experience, but Elvis shushed her gently. He straightened her suit out and pulled her back into the water, into his arms.

“Shh, ‘s okay, honey. You’re a good girl ain’t cha? I can feel it,” he whispered as he rubbed her back soothingly. “We ain’t gotta do anything you don’t wanna do.”

“It’s, it’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just, um, I care about you Elvis. I don’t want to be something nefarious for you. I want to be something good.” Elvis looked a little shocked and - delighted maybe? - that someone would care enough about him to reject him, in a way. There was a warm glow on his face as he looked at Vivien tenderly.

“Can we jus’ be friends for now then? I really love talkin to ya, honey,” he said softly. “And, like I said, we ain’t gotta do anything you ain’t ready for. I jus’ want your company.”

Vivien nodded and looked up into his eyes. “I’d love to be friends. I think you’re a really special person,” she added, causing Elvis to blush.

After they were dressed and saying their goodbyes, Elvis promised to give her a call to come back and talk about the book some more. He leaned down and pressed a soft sweet kiss to her lips. “Not nefarious, just friendly,” he whispered as he pulled away with that lopsided smile. Vivien smiled and nodded, even as the gentle poke from something firm and definitely chubby below his belt told her that wasn’t quite true. And next time, she wasn’t sure she’d have the wherewithal to stop him from exploring her in any way he wanted. She walked away from the mansion feeling giddy, confused, thrilled, and terrified.

Tag List (please let me know if you want to be added or removed): @whositmcwhatsit @lookingforrainbows @arrolyn1114 @thatbanditqueen @missmaywemeetagain @ellie-24 @be-my-ally @from-memphis-with-love

[littlemissmiller]

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑒𝑟 𝐻𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑠

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟓: 𝐀 𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing: drug dealer coriolanus snow x fem!reader

Summary: (au) Coriolanus takes you to his house and you hang out in his room, after taking him up on his offer. After a little bit you can’t help it and make your feelings for him clear…

Warning: 21+ (drug use), smoking, eventually smut, fluff, kissing, heavy make out session, toxic relationship, obsession, possession, confessions of love

Word count: 3k

A/N: hi! ok so i’ll keep it simple…i working on so many stories all at once its nuts, but the ideas keep coming. this took me like no time at all, because as soon as I wrote ch 4 I got started on this. i wanted their first official moment to be its own ch because it just felt right so….enjoy ch 5 it’s like a little spicy like 🥵, but just wait y’all…ch 6 is gonna come in HOT!

Series Masterlist | Playlist

☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎☁︎︎

Coriolanus tries to keep his cool on the way to his house. A simple drive, that he knows like the back of his hand. With you in the car however, he feels lost. He can’t help but continue to look over to you. You’re looking out the window, watching the landscape pass by you. Unforgettable by Frank Ocean is playing, and he can’t help but glance over at your jaw, neck, and bare collarbone. You’re so gorgeous and he remembers the necklace in his pocket. He can’t wait to put it on you, adorn you.

He finally pulls into his driveway and parks. You look at him eyes gleaming in the moonlight and various fireworks that set off around the neighborhood.

“So you don’t live to far from me.”

“Yeah. It’s nice when I hang with Sejay, I used to bike to his house when I was a kid.”

You smile and you both exit the car. You walk to his garage and he types in the code, 7669, and the garage slowly rolls up. You and him walk into the house, closing the garage behind you, and he quickly ushers you upstairs, into his room.

“Sorry I just don’t wanna wake up grandma.”

“No worries. I’ve met her before. She’s so sweet.”

“You think so” Coriolanus smirks

“Of course! Such a sweetheart. Like you” you smile teasingly

“Why you say that”

“You’ve always been a sweet guy. I mean the amount you let me rant about Devin to you. I’m sure I’m just a mess to handle sometimes.”

“What? W-why would you say that?”

“Oh just joking to myself. Sometimes Devon would say that to me. Say I was a mess to handle…”

Coriolanus scoffs and looks at you.

“I’m sorry, but what a dick”

“I know I know. He was a fucking ass.” You sigh, huffing intensely.

There is an awkward pause before Coriolanus invites you to smoke.

“Yes please! I need to get my mind off him somehow.”

“Ok. I just want you to be sure. That your cool with this? I-I don’t wanna pressure you or anything…”

“You’re not” you chuckle softly, taking a seat on his bed. He tries not to gawk at you, but he’s truly dreamed of this moment with you. He takes a seat at his desk chair and leans back slightly. He admires you as he fishes out his dugout and a lighter from his pocket. He sets the dugout on his desk, while he wheels over to open his window and light a candle.

“You have a whole routine with this…” you smile

“Just to keep the smell to a minimum. Grandma doesn’t come up stairs much anymore because of her knees, but just in case. For her sake.”

You nod and watch him and he takes out a joint and lights it up like it’s nothing. For some reason you expect your first time getting high to be a big dramatic moment, but Coriolanus makes it feel so casual. Like it’s normal for you to do this, when that couldn’t be further from the truth. He takes a hit and blows it out the window. You anxiously scoot closer to him and the window and lean in, watching with curiosity. He taps some ash into his ashtray and takes another hit. He holds it between his thumb and forefinger, watching you watch his actions.

“So you just inhale, hold it in then blow it out.” He tells you, passing you the joint. You nod and look at it oddly. It feels so foreign on your fingertips, but nonetheless you take it from him. You hold it up against your mouth the same way he did and inhale.

“There, hold the paper to your lips more, inhale…” his voice guides you and you hold the smoke in your throat and mouth before blowing it out and past your lips. It’s followed by a harsh cough that hits your lungs and burns your throat. You keel over slightly, but recover quick.

“You okay?” Coriolanus asks with a tone of concern. You nod and laugh and he smirks back at you.

“How do you handle this stuff. Damn and I thought Bella’s vape was harsh…”

“You vape?” He questions, letting his smirk turn into a curious chuckle

“Only with her. I’m too scared to buy my own. Besides, I don’t want to get too addicted.”

“That’s good. Weed is not as bad, but I guess smoking anything isn’t great on your lungs. Yet here we are.”

“I-I just want to actually experience things in my life. For once. It just feels like the last four years because of Devon, I couldn’t have the same freedom and fun my friends were having. He thought it would be bad for my reputation, and our relationship…”

Coriolanus rolls his eyes hearing that. Meanwhile, you slowly feel a fuzzy, funny, feeling starting in your head and working your way through your body. Your vision feels like you’re in a dream and you smile at him, feeling all your hate for Devon being replaced with something else. You scoot closer to Coriolanus once again and giggle.

“What” he laughs back

“I feel…good”

“Good, that’s how’s it’s supposed to make you feel. I don’t want to get you too high, since it’s your first time.”

“I appreciate you looking out for me”

“Of course”

You feel lighter, like your body is melting into the bedsheets and you began to sway slightly, rocking your self with a sleepy smile on your face. You’re not tired though, if anything you feel more alert and look more around his room. It can only be described in one word. Cool. You look at his vinyls and posters and squeeze his bedsheets.

“You wanna watch something on Netflix?” Coriolanus asks

“Yeah, can we put on The Office?” You giggle again

He nods, setting the joint on his ash tray, and wheels over to his desk to fetch his controller.

“Can I take another hit?” You ask, readjusting to sit on your knees on his bed and lean over. Your cleavage pours over your romper slightly. Coriolanus takes a second to admire the view in front of him, then nodding enthusiastically. He turns on his PlayStation and then turns on Netflix. You take another hit, followed by another big cough. He whips his head to look at you and you give him a half-hearted thumbs up.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine” you cough

“Just take it slow, it hits you quick, then just gets more intense from there.”

“Got ya. I’ll take a break then. Don’t want to be too out of it.”

He pauses and looks at you. Feeling bold off his own high he offers his place to stay for the night.

“Just if you need it”

“I might. We’ll see.”

Coriolanus goes back to getting the show on. His heart is racing, he’s sure you can hear it beating rapidly in his chest. Fuck, this is all he could ever have wanted for you hanging out with him the first time. Alone in his room, smoking a joint, looking fine as hell. The amount of times he’s thought about this exact moment. He wonders now if his fantasies will continue to play out.

“Oh I love this episode!” You quip

“Yeah, I’ve always liked this show”

The episode plays, and Coriolanus sits back in his chair. The whole time however, you both glance at each other, waiting to see who will make the next move. Who will say what next. You shift around on his bed, trying to move closer to him once again and he notices.

“How are you feeling?”

“Still good. Light. Fuzzy. And umm” you giggle

“What?” He smiles back, leaning his head back to look at you fully. He looks so cute and goofy like this, his lips curled up into a boyish grin.

“I’m kinda hungry…”

Coriolanus lets out a small laugh and rolls over to his desk again.

“Don’t tell me you just have snacks on hand. Is it supposed to make you hungry like this?”

“It can, given it’s your first time I’m not surprised.” He pulls out a bin and it’s filled with individual chip packs, a few packs of fruit snacks, and a tub of M&Ms. You ask for a bag of Doritos and he hands them to you.

“Hold on. Imma grab something to drink, can I get you something?”

“A water would be good. Thanks”

He gets up and hastily makes his way to his kitchen downstairs. He opens the fridge, takes a Redbull and water bottle and runs back up stairs. When he returns, you’ve taken your sandals off, scooted further onto the bed and lying down, scrolling on your phone. You pop up when he steps back into the room, sit up and thank him for the water, taking it from his hand.

“No problem. You look like you’re getting relaxed.”

“I feel good. And just happy, also was this episode always this funny?” You laugh pointing at the TV. It’s the episode where Michael returns from Jamaica with his boss Jan, and accidentally sends a topless photo of her to everyone in the branch. You laugh again and he goes to sit in his chair. You speak up, taking a swig from your water bottle.

“You know you can sit with me right. It is your bed after all.”

“I wanted to give you space…” he lies

In response, you scoot over and pat the bed.

“I still have plenty of space.” You smile, tossing your empty bag of chips in the trash and capping your bottle and setting it on the nightstand. Coriolanus sets his drink on the desk and crawls onto his bed and sinks in next to you. You sit up against him, legs touching, shoulder to shoulder. It feels awkward, so Coriolanus lifts up his arm and rests it against his bed frame. You lean in and look up at him.

“I’m glad I decided to hang out with you after. Honestly Coryo, I wish we hung out more like this during school but…”

“But Devon”

“Yeah, but Devon…” you sigh. A strange feeling hits you, a feeling of need as you look up into Coriolanus’s beautiful blue eyes. You want him and you’re not sure if the weed is making you more confident, but you can’t hide your feelings any longer. You smirk to yourself and look away to the TV for a moment. Coriolanus still watches you and can feel you’re hiding something from him. He wants to push, but decides against it. Then, he remembers the necklace he bought you at the festival. He adjusts his hips to dig it out of his pocket. You look at him curiously and then he reveals it to you.

“When did you get this?” You exclaim

“When I went to the bathroom” he smiles putting his actions in air quotes

“Coryo…this is so sweet…” you sit up and turn around.

He pushes your hair to the side and he clasps the necklace around your neck. You look down at the moon shaped pendant and smile. You turn back to him, your face so close to his. Your lips look so soft, so inviting, but he doesn’t want to make a move. He’s still in amazement that he’s gotten this far with you.

“Thank you” you whisper

You look at him, his face anticipating your next move. Then, you move your face up and do something you’ve wanted to do for a long time. You kiss him. His breath hitches and he kisses you back. He cups your face, hungry for more, but he restrains himself. His mouth moves slowly with yours, savoring this moment. This moment he has craved with you. Your lips are just as soft and perfect as he imagined, your kiss so sweet, yet filled with passion and need. You pull back and gasp at him. You appear apologetic and look into his eyes.

“I-I’m sorry. I guess it just felt right to do that.” You giggle

“Yeah.” He smiles, pushing your hair behind your ear “it’s not just because of the weed is it?”

“If anything the weed is allowing me to be bold. I-I’ve realized that recently, I think I had a bit of a thing for you. That’s why he was such an ass to you…”

“Really? For how long?”

You giggle again and rest your forehead on his chest. He moves his hand to stroke your hair. Then you look back up at him.

“I’ve been aware of it for at least a few months, but if I’m honest much longer. I’ve always been scared to leave Devon.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. Fuck you have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to tear you away from him” he whispers

“I wish you would have…but he would have beat you up or done something crazy.”

“I would handle it. For you.”

You giggle again and let out a long sigh. You lean against him and you both scoot up on his bed. He holds you close and you move to kiss him again. He lets your lips find his own and he lazily kisses you. He already can’t get enough of you. You occasionally pull back to look at him and he strokes your face, but you also can’t help yourself. You haven’t felt this cared for in a while and you can feel how much he wants you through his kiss. You moan and pull back again. He smiles at you, tracing his thumb along your bottom lip.

“I think I might stay the night. If that’s ok?”

“Of course”

“Let me text my mom” you sit up, search for your phone and it shines bright in your face. You text her and turn it off. You fall back and Coriolanus readjusts so he can hold you in his arms again. You lean back against him, nuzzling your head on his shoulder.

“I like being here with you Coriolanus”

“I like you being here too” he kisses your temple

“I’ll have to take a shower in the morning, if that’s ok…”

“Of course” he kisses your head again

You and him continue to watch The Office, until the episode ends. Feeling bold again you move to kiss his jaw and shift your body on top of him. You straddle him and he clasps the back of your neck. Your mouths move, slow at first then he speeds up. He slots his tongue past your lips, causing you to moan. You reciprocate his actions and hook your arms around his neck, propping yourself up against his headboard. He moves up, readjusting you so you don’t have to hold your own weight and you move your hands to his neck. Your lips and tongue continue to move together, a moan occasionally slipping past each of your lips. You start to slowly grind against him, his hand moving to your waist. You pull back and smile.

“Am I sleeping in your bed? With you?” You ask

“Of course. I would hope you would.”

“I want to.” You smile, eyeing his lips

“I’m happy you’re staying the night. You’re always welcome to ok?” He replies, smiling back

You nod and return your lips back to his. You love the way his mouth melts against yours, molded perfectly to fit your own. You could kiss him all night, you love how perfect his mouth feels, how it encaptures your own. You greedily bite his lower lip and tug slightly. Fuck. Fuck he loved that. He moans as you pull back.

“Fuck that was so hot…” Coriolanus groans. A lustful glaze washes over his eyes and he gets an idea.

“Hey since you’re spending the night, wanna try something?”

“Okay…”

He scoots you forward with him, reaches for the joint still sitting in the ashtray and the lighter next to it. He lights up the joint in his mouth and inhales. He pushes your neck forward and your lips part slightly. He breathes the smoke into your mouth as he pushes his lips back onto your own. You inhale the smoke that passes from his lips, pull back and blow it out, fanning his face. Coriolanus smiles and sighs, and this time you don’t cough.

“You got me beat. That was way hotter than anything I could ever do.”

“Are you kidding me…do you know what seeing you doing that does to me?”

You let out a light hearted chuckle and peck his lips. You moan against him.

“Mmm you taste so good Coryo.”

“As do you, fuck, I like how you say my name like that…”

“Yeah. I like to say it.” You kiss him again, this time you let your lips linger on his and the two of you start making out again.

You can’t get enough of him, the taste of his lips, his musky, intoxicating scent, all fueled by your collective high. And he’s consumed by you as well. Your hair is so soft in his fingers as he pushes your mouth further on his. And your skin is just as soft as your lips. Coriolanus tries to contain himself, he tries not to get overwhelmed. He starts to slowly grind against you, and you moan. You pull back again and smile. You push your fingertips against his needy, parted lips.

“Hey…I like you, Coriolanus.”

“I like you too” he whispers

“I definitely want more of this with you, I just want to be sober the first time.”

Coriolanus nods vigorously, giving you a soft smile.

“Of course” he tucks your hair behind your ear again and you give him a quick kiss, sighing against him, your tension releasing.

“I can’t believe how scared I was to say that…”

Coriolanus had caught on to why you were scared. Devon seems to be the reoccurring answer.

“Because of Devon…” he asks

You nod your head and he takes your chin, and you look directly into his eyes.

“Hey…he’s not here anymore. I’m not him. I promise.” He chuckles, and you nod. Coriolanus sealing his words with another hungry kiss and you reciprocate. You and him go on and on until you eventually fall asleep on his chest, clinging to him like a baby. He strokes your hair until you both fall asleep.

꧁🝮❤︎︎🝮꧂

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[harrywavycurly]

Eternal Obsession Part 1: Evening Stroll

Masterlist: here

TW: Slight obsessive behavior

Tag List: @dream-a-little-nightmare @josephquinnsfreckles @chickenandsheep-blog @sweetmoonlove0214 @justheretoreadleavemealone @eddiesgirlforever @ali-r3n @joantje @mrsjellymunson @munsons-mayhem28 @manda-panda-monium @cherrymedicine13

A/N: I am so excited for this mini series! There’s going to only be six parts and you’ll get a new update once a week the last one being on Halloween! I hope y’all enjoy this first look at Vampire Eddie and also in this series it’s modern day and you’ll get more details on when Eddie was turned as the series goes on✨

Eddie lets out a sigh as he zips up his leather jacket before walking down his driveway towards the sidewalk. He might not be able to feel how cold it is outside but he can tell by the orange and brown leaves taking over the ground that there’s a chill in the air and he likes to do what he can to blend in with the people of Hawkins as best he can even if it means wearing a ridiculous jacket that doesn’t do anything for him besides be a source of annoyance. He returns a semi friendly smile to his neighbor Greg who’s putting his trash by the curb, he’s always enjoyed having him as a neighbor because he never actually talks to Eddie but he’s always polite and offers a wave or a smile when he sees him.

Eddie relaxes as he starts on his now routine evening walk around his neighborhood and downtown Hawkins. He likes how peaceful and empty everything is at this time of night, when everyone is getting ready to turn in for the evening. He doesn’t ever have a route in mind for these walks he kinda just goes where he feels drawn to the most and tonight that means he’s turning left at the end of his street, leading him to a dead end at the beginning of the forest that eventually would take him all the way to Lover’s Lake if he kept his path. He raises an eyebrow as he looks around the trees as he takes a few steps into the forest, something isn’t right but he isn’t quite sure what.

“Oh fuck.” His ears twitch a bit as he hears a voice mumble from what sounds to be at least a few hundred feet away from where he’s stood. “That’s just great.” The voice adds with a bit of concern mixed in with what he can only guess is sarcasm. Eddie’s feet lead the way and within a few seconds he’s a mere few feet away from where the voice is coming from.

“Do you need-“ Eddie stops talking the moment you turn around and face him, your eyes lock with his and at that very moment Eddie swears a chill ran up his spine. Eddie notes the way your cheeks get flushed as you break eye contact with him making him smile as he thinks he quite likes the way you look when you blush.

“Do you need some help?” Eddie asks again as he looks around at what appears to be a very sad excuse for a campsite of some sort. “Bit cold for a night in the woods isn’t it?” He asks as he bends down and picks up a lantern that had been knocked over.

“I’m not spending the night out here.” You explain as you turn and watch him turn on the lantern allowing you to see his face for the first time. You have to remind yourself to breathe as Eddie’s eyes find yours as he lightly chuckles before offering you a smile. “I uhm…” you take a calming breath as you look away from him after grabbing the lantern from his hand, mentally taking a note at how cold it was when your fingers brushed with his. “I’m uh..erm..star.. stargazing.” Eddie takes a small step towards you as you struggle to form complete sentences.

Eddie takes this moment to really look at you, he doesn’t know why but he’s overcome with the urge to pull you into his arms and never let you go. He doesn’t know what’s happening as he gets hit with an emotion his hasn’t felt for decades, nervousness. He tilts his head to the side as he watches you struggle to compose yourself and he can’t help the laugh that escapes his lips as you let out a huff and turn so your back is now facing him.

“Stop doing that.” Eddie raises an eyebrow at your request as he takes another step towards you.

“Doing what?” He asks as his curiosity gets the best of him as he reaches his hand out and places it on your shoulder turning you around so he can once again look at your face that’s being illuminated by your lantern.

“Making my mind all mushy.” Eddie carefully reaches his hand that’s on your shoulder up to your face so he’s every so gently caressing your cheek. You flinch at how cold his hand is but you get over it quickly as you find yourself leaning into his touch.

“Mushy?” He questions as you reach up and place your free hand over his that’s still on your face. “I’m afraid I’m going to need you to elaborate on that sweetheart.” He smiles as he hears your heartbeat almost sound like it fluttered as the word sweetheart slipped out of his mouth.

“I know it’s a vampire thing.” You close your eyes as you speak, hoping it’ll help you get control of your thoughts enough to be able to have a normal conversation. “You can make people’s thoughts all cluttered and make them confused and disoriented.” Eddie studies your face as a small wrinkle appears between your brows as you slowly open your eyes and instead of the soft gaze he was expecting he’s met with a hard glare. “It’s rude.” You snap as you drop your hand from top of his making him frown at the slight loss of contact.

“Am I making you disoriented?” He asks as his thumb begins gently rubbing over your cheek bone. Eddie doesn’t know what’s happening as he fights the urge to grab your face with his other hand and pull you into a kiss, he hasn’t had these urges since his human days and he’s confused as to why one look from you has almost sent him back in time as his heart feels like it’s getting closer and closer to actually beating with each second he stares into your eyes.

“Just uhm a little.” You know he can tell you’re lying but you don’t really care as Eddie’s almost dazzling beauty finally hits you when you raise your lantern up allowing his jawline and smooth skin to get hit by the light.

“You’re beautiful.” You’re caught off guard at his compliment making you blush and look down at your boot clad feet. “On second thought.” Eddie’s hand slides from your cheek down to beneath your chin so he can make it to where you’re looking up at him again. “Beautiful isn’t good enough…I don’t think there’s a word that accurately describes how…you look to me.” You feel your hand that’s holding the lantern fall to your side as Eddie’s sweet breath fans across your face making your knees begin to feel weak as he slowly places his other hand on your face so you can’t look away from him.

“Who-” your voice is more like a whisper as your knees finally give out on you causing your lantern to fall to the ground with a soft thud, but before you can even think about hitting the ground Eddie’s arms wrap around your middle holding you up. “Who are you?” Eddie just laughs and shakes his head at how silly he’s been having not introduced himself to you yet.

“Please forgive me I normally have better manners.” You watch him smile as he helps you get steady on your feet again. “I’m Eddie Munson.” His name is one you feel like you’ve heard before making Eddie raise an eyebrow at your confused look.

“The mechanic?” You ask after you quickly introduce yourself making Eddie laugh and nod his head, everyone in this town knows him as just being a mechanic. “You’re friends with Steve Harrington right?” Eddie feels a sense of jealousy overtake him as he rolls his eyes and releases his hold on your waist.

“Friend is a strong word.” Eddie argues as you take a seat on the fold out chair you’d brought so you could sit comfortably and watch the stars. “Just because we are both vampires doesn’t mean we are friends.” He adds as he takes a look around your little set up, he smiles as he finds a notebook sitting on top of a backpack that says “important things” in what he can only assume is your handwriting. His mind begins to wonder what kind of things you deem important enough to be write about in the notebook but before his curiosity could get the best of him he takes a few steps so he’s standing in front of you.

“Don’t you guys sort of stick together?” You ask shyly as you look down at your hands that are in your lap, needing a minute to breathe normally before you look him in the eyes again.

“Some form little gangs.” Eddie chuckles to himself at his use of the word gang, the crowd Steve hung out with is far from a gang. In reality they’re just a bunch of misfits who think they run Hawkins but the embarrassing truth is that Hawkins is just incredibly boring so they don’t have much to do besides annoy the locals any chance they can get.

“But not you?” Eddie bends down so he’s face to face with you while you’re sat in your chair. He places a hand on your knee and you’re not sure why but you find yourself reaching for his hand so you can place your smaller one on top of his.

“No not me.” He answers as you flip his hand so it’s palm up allowing you to interlock your fingers with his. “I like to keep to myself.” You smile when he gives your hand a small squeeze.

“This doesn’t look like you keeping to yourself.” Eddie just shrugs as you look at your hand in his wondering if he’s bothered by how warm your skin is compared to the coldness of his.

“Meeting you has changed me.” You know his words should spark some sort of confusion or at least a slight sense of worry in your mind but yet you find yourself feeling the exact opposite. “You have awoken something inside of me that I thought died a long time ago.” His voice is like velvet as it brings you a sense of warmth that you can’t help but find comfort in.

“I don’t understand.” You mumble making Eddie laugh.

“Isn’t it thrilling? Not knowing?” You feel a gust of wind as Eddie quickly and effortlessly picks you up and places you in his lap as he sits in the chair you were just occupying. “I don’t know what it is about you that has me feeling like this but I’ll figure it out eventually.” You feel his arms snake around your middle pulling you closer to him so your back is flush against his hard chest.

“Feeling like what?” Eddie leans his head down as you speak so his nose is tucked in your hair allowing him to be engulfed in your scent.

“Like death would be easier than being away from you.” Eddie frowns when he feels a shiver run through your body reminding him that unlike him you can feel the chill in the air and his abnormal body temperature isn’t helping.

“You feel that way about me after meeting me not even an hour ago?” Your voice betrays you as it makes you sound like you’re in awe of what Eddie just told you instead of the alarmed tone you meant for it to have.

“Yes? Is it not like that for humans?” He asks as he wraps his jacket around your shoulders allowing there to be extra fabric between your body and his hoping it’ll help warm you up.

“Not exactly.” Eddie’s brows furrow as he begins slowly running his hands up and down your arms.

“There’s love at first sight isn’t there? I distinctively remember learning about that when I was still alive.” You roll your eyes at the idea of love at first sight because there’s no way that’s what happened between the two of you, it has to be more of a vampire thing than just a love thing.

“Well yeah but that’s for humans.” You argue as you get comfortable in Eddie’s lap. Eddie just smiles as you rest your head on his shoulder so you can look up at the sky.

“I was human once.” Eddie whispers in your ear causing your cheeks to get warm at the feeling of his breath on your neck.

“Can I ask you something?” Eddie just hums in response as you all of a sudden become aware of the situation you’ve gotten yourself into.

“I won’t let anything harm you…including myself.” Eddie promises as if he can hear your thoughts but really he can just hear the way your heartbeat began to accelerate and your pulse quickened. “Ever.” He adds in hopes it’ll help you relax and to his surprise and yours you do find his words making you feel at ease.

“How’d you find me?” Your voice is quiet as you look at the stars as Eddie tightens his hold on you ever so slightly.

“I just knew where to go.” He explains because he hasn’t really got a logical answer. “I just went for a walk and wound up here.” You just nod as you place your hands over his that are resting in your lap. “How come you didn’t scream when you saw me? I know vampires aren’t a rare sighting but still you didn’t even try to run.” You feel your face get hot as Eddie asks you a question that you know the answer to is just going to feed into the already oddly intense relationship the two of you have.

“I knew you weren’t going to hurt me.” Eddie smiles as he leans back so he can look up at the sky. “I honestly felt relieved when I first saw you.” You mumble but you know Eddie heard you loud and clear.

“Relieved?” You just nod and Eddie smirks as he looks down at you just to find you’re already looking up at him. “I thought you were feeling…what was the word? Disoriented?” He teases making you roll your eyes.

“That was afterwards.” Eddie takes in every detail of your face so he can think back on it later as you give him a small smile. “But first I felt this sense of relief as if..I’d been waiting for you my whole life I just…didn’t know it until I saw you.” Eddie swears his heart almost leaped out of his chest at your confession, a silly thought since his heart hasn’t been functional in over forty years.

“Well I’m here now.” You watch him lean down so the tip of his nose gently brushed against yours. “And I’m always going to be here.” He smiles before he ever so softly places a quick kiss to your forehead.

“Forever?” Eddie knows your version of forever and his are entirely different so he just smiles as he leans in to place a kiss to your rosy cheek.

“Didn’t you come here to stargaze? I’ve been extremely rude and distracting to you and I apologize.” You can tell he’s changing the subject but you don’t mind as you look away from him and back up at the stars. A wave of exhaustion threatens to take you under into a deep sleep as the realization of the situation hits that you’re sitting in the woods with Eddie Munson, who is a vampire that seems to be in love with you and you don’t really mind because you might possibly feel the same.

[inevitablysomber-dark]

I was wondering what happened when Steve's wife found out that he cheated or has been cheating if she does.

 Steve (Unwanted)

Mildy Dark! Reader X Cheating! Steve

(OneShot)

Go below the marker if you'd like to skip to the story.

Warnings: Mentions of Cheating, restraints. MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY. MINORS DNI.

So I would like to state that when I read darker pieces with Steve, I prefer him as the dominant aggressor (if you will). Why? Well, because in canon, he’s such a goody-two-shoes. The thought of someone so well-regarded doing such depraved things really gets me going. However, when I received this ask, I never really put much thought into what kind of person Steve would get married to in this regard. Of course, Steve is obsessed with his wife, much like Bucky is with his. Of course, Steve would do anything to keep his wife, things Bucky had already done in Unwanted. But then I thought, what if she was a Sociopath? 

Then this fic was born. Enjoy. 

Check out my series Unwanted if you haven't alread (The universe where this Steve is from)

You never thought you’d find yourself in this situation, it was expected, but you didn’t take it seriously. 

THE Steve Rogers, the Golden Boy of the US of A, was being unfaithful to his wife. Ouch! Galavanting across the city with a coworker who had a husband of her own… Double Ouch!

You weren’t usually a vengeful bitch, but this circumstance had you seething. The affair had been with Sharon Carter, a woman who’d been in your home multiple times. Someone you’d even gone on double dates with until last year when you found out that she and Steve had been exchanging extremely friendly text messages and ridiculously long phone calls at ungodly hours.  

You tried not to let it get to you, with the threat of insecurities being brought up, but eventually, you had to tell Steve to stop messaging her and to stop inviting her into your home. 

He was always bad at listening. 

When you found he was still messaging her, he insisted it had only been due to some issues with work. 

A few weeks ago, Steve had gone to ‘visit’ Bucky, and you didn’t believe him. You thought he planned on seeing Sharon and was using Bucky as an excuse. You suspected it wouldn’t have been the first time. The thing was, you had no way to prove it, and you knew you couldn’t follow Steve without getting caught. You tried.

To your surprise, he’d been back in 45 minutes and spent the entire rest of the night fucking you into the bed. The feelings, the noises, and the smell all grew to be a bit much, and frankly, you couldn’t keep up. 

‘Did Sharon not feel like fucking?’ you asked when he finally laid on his back to rest. Your own eyes closed, and your body set in fatigue from the rigorous bonking.  

Sometimes you just couldn’t keep your fucking mouth shut.

Steve just about had a fit, one would’ve thought that you questioned his manhood with the way he was berating you for your uncouth language. He left to get ready for work in a fit, and you just shrugged your shoulders. 

It wasn’t until you checked your phone that your suspicions had been confirmed.

Steve just admitted to me that he’d been cheating on you. 

The message comes in a few hours into your coital activities. It came from Bucky’s wife. You’d only met her a few times, but she seemed lovely.

 Why would she message you this? Did this mean that Steve went to go see her? Why would Steve go to visit Bucky’s wife? Why would Steve admit to cheating, to her? 

Receiving this news has been a blow to you. You loved Steve, and he loved you, at least you thought he did, and you suspected the cheating, but it didn’t feel as real as when you received that message. 

One moment, you didn’t know what to do, but then you knew exactly what to do all at once. 

Back to present day, you had Steve tied up in the buff, cock rock hard, pointing to the ceiling. He had a smirk on his face, and you had his eyes covered with a blindfold. 

You bent over the bed, giving a long lick on his frenulum, and sucked the tip into your mouth. The action causes your own pussy to dampen. You pulled him into your mouth a few more times until you felt a twitch in his shaft and removed yourself. 

“Babe,” he groaned. 

“Patience,” you say, climbing on his head and sitting on it. He engulfs your clit in no time, lapping away at your folds like a man starved as you grind your pelvis into his face, chasing your climax. When you finally release, he guzzles you down like a delicacy lost.

When you finally perch yourself on his cock, you push down a gasp escapes from your lips.  Steve groans impatiently as you stay still, basking in the stretch he gave you. 

You move your hips, grinding your clit  against his pelvis as you move him in and out of your cunt, you bend over to push your mouth against his in a sloppy kiss, resting your feet on his thighs, as you fucked yourself on his cock. The moment gets more intimate as you take charge and your juices flow. Steve braces his legs against the bed as he fucks upwards into your pussy, intensifying the sensation.

God, you were going to miss this. His penis, his mouth, his face, his body. Stevie Boy was a fine fucking specimen, and the thought that you lost him to fucking Sharon Carter, did something to you, and it wasn’t good.

Your anger, forced you down harder on his manhood, pushing both of you into a mind-blowing climax. He releases inside you, and you collapse into his restrained form. 

After a moment, you felt him twitch, indicating that he was ready for  round two. But you were done, so you got up, and started getting dressed. He seemed to sense that something was off and finally opted to speak. 

“So, What was that about?” He gave a nervous chuckle. 

You grab the TV remote and sit next to his subdued form on the bed, removing his blindfold, in the process. 

“Honey?” he asks. 

You turn on the TV, and several images of him and Sharon popped up on the screen, and that seemed to shut him up.  You had asked Nat for help in gathering evidence, and she was more than willing.

“It’s funny how brave people get when they think no one is paying attention,” you say, when gesturing at a photo of him and Sharon fucking on a beach.

He pulled on his cuffs and seems to be surprised when it doesn’t work.

“Vibranium cuffs,” you say. “I told Tony to make them, for more excitement in the bedroom.” you shrugged. That was a lie, you asked Pepper and she had Tony make them for you. You felt like he would’ve asked too many questions.

“Besides you haven’t even gotten to the best part,” you press a button on the remote, and there you are, getting railed doggy style by Sharon’s husband. “His cock isn’t as good as yours, but that hardly mattered.” you paused  “I still got to cum,”

Steve is livid, he pulls hard against the cuffs and for a moment you think the bed frame will break, but when you inspect it, you are safe, for now. 

“Tit for Tat,” you say.

“You grew cold and we stopped having sex-” he started, but you interrupted.

“Oh I’m sure you were fucking her long before then,” you state. “Don’t worry, I sent Sharon a copy of the presentation,” 

“You bitch! you’re going to fucking pay for this,” he growls. 

“Oh, look at that, the golden boy is making threats,” you say in an apathetic voice.

He pulls again, and you hear a ‘ting’ of something popping off, but he seems too angered to have noticed. 

You go into the nightstand and pull out some divorce papers, placing them on his chest and patting them twice.

“Don’t forget to sign these and send them to the office,” you say.

You pull a bag from under the bed and walk out. The last thing you hear before leaving is.

“Alexa, call Bucky,” with a loud growl. 

You laugh all the way to your car, and drive off. 

Of course, you were hurt, but it felt good, knowing that you sent the knife back.

[eddiessluttywaist]

desiderium

an eddie munson series

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES.

summary: eddie’s odd, forgotten childhood friend seeks him out when he needs her more than he realizes.

pairing: bsf!mechanic!bartender!eddie x eccentric!bsf!fem!reader

word count: 7,547 words

content/warnings: eventual smut so MDNI, unhealthy eating habits depicted (eddie accidentally forgets to eat), fluff, swearing, feeling unwanted, mentions of bullying/being publicly humiliated, low self esteem, anxiety, mentions of embarrassment, mention of an involuntary erection in adolescence lol, very brief mention of drugs, really awful & embarrassing awkwardness at the end i’m so sorry i had to. i think that’s it!

a/n: creds to whoever owns and posted those ^ photos! they’re not mine, i just made the collage!

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5

*

You reveled in the juvenile glory that was giving Eddie a hard time, especially since it had been so long since you’ve had the chance to.

You were grateful for the opportunity to settle back into one another even if it was by acting like complete children. Part of you even felt like these moments were exactly what you had hoped for, except that there was something off. Something still polite and unsure to your interactions. It made sense since it had been so long, but it was still odd. This touch of distance to all of it was incredibly foreign when you considered the way things had always been between you and him.

In that small market, you realized so much of Eddie was exactly how you remembered. And as much as you wanted to cling to him to appease your instinctive fear of losing him again, you both had to part ways so you could put away groceries.

Far less of the asshole you met on Thursday, he was more than willing to give you his phone number when you admitted you wanted to keep talking. You were embarrassed to tell him, especially since you didn’t want to scare him off with the strong attachment you still had (which you worried he wouldn’t match), but he didn’t even think about it. There was no judgmental glance or snicker under his breath. Only an “oh, yeah, of course” and then patting at his pockets to see if he had anything on him to write with.

“I feel like I still know you, but not really. It’s weird to think about everything I missed out on,” you admitted over the motel landline. “D’you think you’re the same Eddie as 11 year old Eddie?”

“Probably not,” he confessed in a sigh. “You the same as 10 year old you?”

You paused for a moment, even if it wasn’t necessary. Of course you weren’t the same. Not wholly.

“No, I suppose not…,” you trailed off before speaking up again, your finger twirling the phone cord around. “Do you think we’ll still be best friends? Or is this all too strange?”

“I don’t think I have a choice. You’re clearly obsessed.”

“Screw off,” you giggled, feeling your cheeks grow rosy.

“Well maybe…,” he exhaled, taking a moment to think before he continued to answer your question genuinely this time. You could hear him shifting in his spot, probably to be more comfortable. “Maybe a bit awkward. Why? Regretting coming here already?”

“No,” you shook your head as if he could see you and you rubbed the heel of your foot forward on the bedding to get your sock back into place after it had shifted. “Maybe we just need to catch up. Fill each other in on all the stuff we missed out on. Then it’ll be like there was no gap.”

There was some silence on his end, except for the faint sound of his breathing. Then there was suddenly movement again as his hair brushed against the phone and he yawned out his reply.

“That’s fair.”

“… Do you think I could see you tomorrow?”

“Mm, well I work until 5 tomorrow but we could do something after.”

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna bug you,” you spoke softly as if you were a teenager sneaking phone calls far too late. “I’m sure I’m annoying you, but I just… I don’t know… just wanna reconnect.”

Silence. You swallowed nervously, phone pressed between your ear and shoulder while you toyed with your hands.

“Y’know?”

Still nothing. Were you being as obnoxious as you feared? Were you being too excessive about all of this? Why wasn’t he answering you? Was he not as interested as you were in rekindling your friendship?

“Eddie?” You asked now, but it was just his breathing.

You were worried he was getting annoyed with you or maybe even trying to upset you by not responding, until you heard a light snore.

*

Eddie’s exhaustion was getting so bad that it seemed to be ingraining itself into his body. Digging into his bones, stiffening his muscles and joints, digging a void in his torso. He swore he could feel it slowly melting his brain that craved its necessary reprieve. He was starting to worry he was going to drift off while driving or something worse—if there was something worse than that.

He must’ve gone just long enough without any decent rest because he didn’t even remember dozing off. Usually with an adequate sleep schedule, he could remember approximately when he started to slip into unconsciousness, but not this time. He was on the phone one moment, and then he was suddenly waking up the next morning.

He blinked the sleep from his eyes, adjusting to the light coming in through his window, and grunting lowly over the aching in his neck. He had fallen asleep sitting up in bed with his back against the wall, and gradually slid down throughout the night. It left his back and neck at an awkward bend for far too long and he was already feeling the effects. Straightening out his posture, Eddie stretched and rubbed at the back of his neck while different pops and creaks sounded throughout his body. As he shifted in his spot, he heard something drop off of the bed and onto the floor with a clatter. Brows furrowed and lips in an interested pout, he glanced past the edge of the mattress to see his telephone hanging down from its bouncing cord.

“Fuck…,” he muttered and scooped the receiver back up.

“Hey- Hello?” he started asking until he heard the incessant beeping coming from the phone.

Shit. He completely fell asleep on you. This wasn’t exactly helping his case right now. Once the phone was back on its cradle, he let out another grumbling sound while he rubbed his hands over his face. Arms dropping back down, he let out a small puff of air and glanced at the clock. Once and then a second time in panic.

“Shit!” Eddie gasped, launching out of bed. He was supposed to be at work two hours ago. He didn’t couldn’t bother with putting together something to eat, only sparing the time he had to hop around his bedroom as he pulled on his clothes and shoved his socked feet into his boots.

*

“I’m so sorry, I slept through my alarm. I swear that this-”

“Yeah, really missing out on all the action,” Mr. Thacher grumbled with a small smirk as he gestured his hand outwards to display the empty waiting room. “Don’t worry, kid, shit happens.”

“Eloquent as ever,” Lin commented on his response, giving Eddie a toothy grin as he rushed over to punch his time card. He could see her usual neon green mint gum just barely poking out from between her teeth. Mr. Thacher quietly grunted in response to her remark, continuing to flip through an auto parts catalog.

“‘D you talk to that girl that came by? What was that bracelet about?”

Eddie had been so frazzled by waking up late, that he stumbled over the mention of you. Although to be fair, he probably would’ve still stumbled even if he wasn’t mixed up from all the rushing.

“Oh— I—” he stuttered, his mind struggling to play catch up and reply to her while simultaneously attempting to remember what he needed to get done today. The Ford was already back to that snippy woman, one car he couldn’t even work on until a part came in—he guessed he was stuck with whatever else was left in the garage. What even was there?

He rubbed at his forehead as if the contact to the spot would get his brain to work. “Yeah--”

“A girl, huh?” Thacher grinned, the topic pulling his gaze up from the catalog.

“Seemed real strange, but sweet. Very mousy,” Linda whispered as if she was being secretive. As if Eddie couldn’t hear her.

“Just a friend of mine from when I was a kid,” he explained in hopes of avoiding any teasing or toying of any sorts, then went to the garage.

“Ahh, just a friend,” Mr. Thacher murmured at the clarification, sharing a knowing smile with the receptionist as Eddie escaped to the back.

Eddie could remember how Wayne teased him when he said the same thing about Chrissy. Just a friend. Just some girl who was actually nice to him. Just this, just that. Someone older than him acting like they knew everything before he did, particularly in the world of romance—which he was horribly out of touch with—always left him flustered.

Yes, he was aware he was the undateable town freak but he didn’t need to be reminded through the excessive attention to anything that could be a shocking turn of events in his love life. It emphasized how rare it was for someone to be interested in him. It was also irritating because it was bound to leave him even more humiliated in the long run. Whenever people around him made a big deal about someone he liked, it only made it all that more disheartening to have to beg them to stop bringing it up because shocker—it didn’t work out.

Not to mention, it was turning out to be a particularly touchy subject when it came to you. You were actually just a friend for nearly the entirety of his childhood; so Thacher and Lin viewing you as someone he was crushing on made him feel like a lone ant under their magnifying glass, and they were ignorant to just how badly they were burning him up. Especially now that he’s painfully aware of your existence as a grown woman and even more painfully aware of how easily he could fall into a devastating crush for you like some teenager. Sure, in a childish diary entry you once talked about him being your first kiss on your 10th birthday, but did that mean anything? No. You were young and wanted to get a milestone out of the way. You could never feel something beyond platonic bond with him. He could tell.

Now trying to focus on work, he was distracted by how ruffled he felt from being forced to think of you romantically or... Ugh, why was that suddenly so awkward? Romance. Physical attraction: Not a big deal. He’s an adult and capable of discussing such matters, but clearly not when it comes to you. He felt his stomach flip flop and his face get all red, which he hoped was hidden well by the hood of the car he was currently inspecting. You are so grown up now. Well, of course you were and of course he was too. You were both in your mid-20s, and it wasn’t like you saw one another’s transitions from childhood to adolescence to young adulthood. You were an obnoxious young girl with pigtails one day, and now suddenly a young woman who made him anxious. If he didn’t know your heart, he would’ve been sure you were the kind of girl to avoid him. The kind to not give him a second glance—maybe not even a first glance.

When he was a kid you were just… you. Critter. That annoying little shit who he spent nearly every second with. Now you’re you, Critter, and that beautiful newcomer who showed a daunting amount of interest in him. What if you realized he wasn’t worth your time? That he didn’t hold up to any standards he may have set once upon a time? He didn’t want his worries to get in the way, but he was sure they already have in some way. It’s just that you’re here so suddenly and so… pretty (ugh, he felt like a stupid teenager thinking like this) and he could barely string a decent sentence together on a regular basis let alone with someone like you staring at him or waiting on the other end of the call.

Oh god that call. Remembering that beeping phone hanging on its curling cord made him want to kneel down and let the hood of the car slam down on his head. At what point did he fall asleep? And were you upset with him? As if he didn’t already need to prove himself after his little episode on Thursday, now he had this to make up for too.

Great. Just great.

*

“Uh… I don’t know. I usually only hire locals. They already know everyone and know how things run around here.”

Your eyes grew a little sad at the response the man behind the bar gave you as he wiped at his hands with a towel. Unlike Eddie’s work towel, this one actually looked like it did its job. This was a rejection, wasn’t it? Or maybe just an opportunity. Usually. He said usually.

“I’m staying in Hawkins. I- I’ll get to know everyone, and I promise I’ll work hard. I waited tables at a diner back home for a really long time, I promise I know what I’m doing,” You thought you sounded confident, but maybe you were just begging. The middle aged man eyed you for a moment, considering you before speaking up again.

“Well, there’s a difference between a diner and a bar. Some of these men are downright sloppy.”

“If you mean they’ll grope me because they’ve been drinking, I can assure you I’ve been grabbed at plenty by someone sipping their first coffee of the morning. I can handle it.”

He hummed in thought, and maybe he was amused by your response. Maybe he couldn’t care less, but you were hanging on every word.

“Just to be clear… that’s not to say me, my boys, and Sandra won’t back you up if someone tries to bother you,” He jerked his thumb back to drag your attention to the woman who was roughly around the same age as him. You assumed they were married, and their sons worked for them. Did he say he only hires locals or family?

“I only want to warn you in case it’s too upsettin’.“

“So does that mean I have the job?” You grinned, hand still clutching that strip of paper with contact information from their “HELP WANTED” sign.

He wanted to warn you. There was something worth warning you about, something worth possibly backing you up about. That meant you’d be here. He sighed, and tossed his towel onto his shoulder.

“It means you get a chance. And don’t get cocky on me, alright? I’ve seen enough people swear up and down about their experience and then try to show off how much they can carry or memorize. It jus’ ends up costing me an arm and a leg with all the shit they screw up.”

“No games. I promise,” You nod your head firmly with all the respect of a soldier acknowledging their commander.

“Hm. Can you start tomorrow night?“

“Absolutely! Thank you so much, Mr.Smith,” You chirped from the other side of the bar, slipping off of your seat while he huffed out a snort.

“Just call me Ron, alright? Don’t have to be so formal.”

You might’ve been too cheery about a crummy waitressing job at a crummy bar in a crummy town, but this had you feeling that maybe your luck was finally turning up. You needed a job and while driving around in hopes of a “HELP WANTED” sign, you actually got one. And you were already getting the job. Well, a chance.

You were getting a chance.

*

“I have a job!” You announced with your arms raised up in joy, returning to the motel late that afternoon.

“Alright!” Martha grinned from behind her newspaper which she was folding up now at your appearance. “Look at you. Settling in already.”

“Well, I have a chance. He said a chance. But it’s something, and I really hope I prove myself to him.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great, dear. You’re gonna wow ‘em, get that job, and find a nice place.”

“I already have a nice place,” You pout now, folding your arms on the ledge in front of her usual spot and place your chin on top of them.

“This is just some crappy motel,” Martha reassured you with an amused huff and a gesture of her hand. “You deserve better. Not to mention, you can’t stay here forever—as much as I’d love to have you.”

“Are you breaking up with me? Kicking me out?”

Martha rolled her eyes and snickered, making your lips turn up into a smile.

“I want you to have a nice apartment you can call your own.”

“Hm,” you hum in consideration. “We’ll have to set days to spend together. Hey, maybe we can have breakfast every Sunday at Benny’s!”

“I’d like that,” she grinned up at you kindly, until her eyes were suddenly glittering with mischief as she parted her lips to speak up again. “Now about that boy…”

You groan with all the dramatics of a gaggle of teenagers and abandon your place at the front desk. You briefly walk away from your spot before begrudgingly circling back.

“I’m just saying you were awfully smiley when you got back from the store.”

“Yeah, with your nasty sardines,” You deflect and follow it up with a gag.

A playful pout comes to your lips at the look she gives you—an expression that could’ve said plenty of things, but you knew translated to “stop avoiding the subject.”

“We… talked,” you shrugged, gaze flitting to the ground as you fight against every muscle in your face desperately trying for a smile. “That’s all.”

“Ah, I see…,” Martha took off her glasses to clean the lenses with the edge of her shirt. “Was he good to you?”

“Yeah. He felt bad that he didn’t know it was me ‘n all that,” You murmured and glanced over at that daddy long legs that was nestled in its respective corner, tilting your head to regard it for a moment.

“Well that’s good,” She hummed and placed her glasses back on her face. “Is he handsome?”

You rolled your eyes so hard, you probably could’ve triggered a headache. Your only verbal response is another groan as you turn on your heel and head down the hall.

“What? Oh, it’s an innocent question!” Martha laughed, and you huff out a playful scoff on your way to your room.

*

You tried to not let last night dwindle your confidence. At first, your mind shot right to its typical worst case scenarios—you’re boring. You bore him now. That’s why he fell asleep. He couldn’t be bothered. That’s why he fell asleep. You’re so annoying he was looking for an escape—that one seemed like a stretch until you thought. But what if he was just pretending so you’d hang up already and stop bothering him? You sat with that one for a while, but then decided he wouldn’t do that… right? If you were already annoying him that much then he wouldn’t have even given you his number.

Then there was your sickeningly sweet side. The part of you so ungodly saccharine that it didn’t just put the world through a rose tinted lens—it was golden like honey and saturated with radiant sunshine and men who don’t disappoint. The latter should’ve been enough to take you out of it—too fictitious—but you holed up there sometimes. Not as much as you used to because when you never left it that was always a sign of trouble, but it was a nice retreat from your constant anxieties. On this side, he fell asleep because he was comfortable. You hadn’t seen him in over ten years, and still managed to make him feel safe enough to sleep in your presence—even if it was just through a phone.

Or he was just tired enough that he knocked out, which meant he could still be indifferent to you. This jostled your inner paradise and made your brows frown when it passed through. You shake your head as if to wipe the slate clean when you finally realize just how long you had been in your own head and glance at the clock. It was a little after 5 PM. He said he would be out by now, but you hadn’t been able to secure anything before he was snoring on the other line.

Should you still stop by the shop? You two hadn’t decided on if you would be going there, or if you’d meet up somewhere else. Fighting your urges that could easily be considered an instinct to smother him, you stay put at the motel. Instead of thinking about Eddie, you think about your chance at a job. You hadn’t worked at that diner back home in the past year—maybe year and a half—and now you were ruminating over every little detail of working there. You were continuously reassuring yourself that you remembered how to serve people in a small town as you dug through your bags to find something to wear.

Oh crap, you forgot to ask if there was a dress code.

You tried to think of what Ron was wearing at the bar. Flannel. Definitely a flannel. You never saw what pants he was wearing, but you at least had that. Figuring you’ll play it safe, you pull out your nice jeans. They were particularly stiff and you would have to lay on the bed to button them, but you had to look your best. You’ll pair them with a clean black top and comfortable shoes, and just hope they give you an apron.

*

Despite Thacher’s insistence that he go home, Eddie stayed longer at the shop than he usually did on Wednesdays since he came in late. One would think finally sleeping would be rejuvenating, and it was to a certain degree, but it also left him incredibly groggy. His body felt drunk on the sudden abundance of rest, and he almost didn’t know what to do with himself. He just prayed he would sleep tonight too.

No one came in around close, but he could focus on fixing what was already in the back—not including the car that he was still waiting on a part for. It wasn’t until he felt like he was going to keel over from the gut pain that he realized he hadn’t eaten all day. The few cups of coffee he had felt like they were slowly eroding his stomach as it begged for a decent meal. He made his way to the small break room and scoured the cabinets to find a Chinese food menu, a tub of Folgers, a forgotten can of Sanka (cause really, who was drinking decaf at work?), filters, an array of plastic cutlery, napkins, a ramen seasoning packet and aha—a packet of instant oatmeal.

Tearing the paper with his teeth, Eddie reached for his usual mug to dump the oats into before adding water. He watched the cup turning in the buzzing microwave with a sigh of relief as the scent of cinnamon began filling the air, all while he rubbed at his neck and stretched his still aching back. He waited until the very last second to smash his knuckles against the button to successfully open the microwave door right before it could beep at him.

“Ow ow ow--” he hissed around his first bite, which was visibly steaming, but he was too hungry to care as it burned away at his mouth.

“You know I think that has been in the cabinet since ‘86,” Linda commented as he made his way towards the front, picking up on the scent of instant oatmeal before she could even turn her head to confirm that was what he was eating.

“Well right now, it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” He grinned a closed mouth smile around his boiling hot snack and then shoveled in another scoop just to keep huffing and puffing from how hot it was.

“You can let it cool, y’know. It’s not gonna run away from you,” She snickered as she organized her desk.

Eddie lifted his plastic spoon to show off the sludge that slowly slid down and plopped back into the mug.

“Sure about that? This doesn’t look like something that could come to life?”

“Don’t play with your food,” She chastised gently with a tilt of her head, making him laugh.

“Yes, mother,” He snickered and she joined in, but the sentiment wasn’t entirely a joke.

She had become somewhat of a mother figure for Eddie since he first started here at 16. She defended him whenever the opportunity arose and she kept an eye on his interactions with others, always hoping for some happiness to come around for him. Sometimes she was concerned that maybe he wouldn’t treat a girl right—take advantage like a lot of men do—but she was usually only concerned about him. He was the one that got hurt nearly every time, excluding that recent one he made cry.

“So a childhood friend, huh?” She suddenly asked, despite him not being aware of her thoughts turning from the topic of old oatmeal to you.

Eddie’s eyes were so childish and round as he glanced over at her, it was almost cartoonish in the way that they glittered. He was softer talking about you now that it was only Lin, even if he still felt somewhat irritable from being pestered about you.

“Yeah, she uh…,” Eddie swallowed, setting his mug down on that awkward half wall around her desk and started picking at his nails. “She’s from Ohio. When I still lived with my dad.”

“Ahh…,” Linda raised her brows, but backed off a little. She knew his dad was a sensitive topic. She clicked her tongue thoughtfully. “Well that’s sweet of her to come here to see you, huh?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Eddie laughed sheepishly, rubbing at the back of his neck again. “It’s a little weird.”

“Do you not want her here?”

“No—god, no, I mean yes. No I don’t… not want her here.”

“Mkay,” Linda hummed, having a hard time not smiling over his blushing cheeks.

“I just mean I haven’t seen her in so long, so it’s shocking, y’know? The last time I saw her she was 9. Well, she’d insist she was practically 10 since it was so close to her birthday-” Eddie rambled out that last part, rolling his eyes a little and flapping his hands out over the recent memory of your insistence that you had been 10. He let out a huff of air, then toyed with a strand of his hair to pull in front of his face as he shifted in his spot.

“But uh… yeah.”

Linda eyed him for a moment, until it all clicked into place for her. Oh he’s so cute.

“Aw, it’s strange for you to see her all grown and womanly,” She cooed.

Eddie’s face twisted as he dropped his hair from between his fingers, and might as well have gagged.

“Oh, god— do not call her womanly.”

“But it’s true! You knew her as a young girl and now she’s blossomed into a woman. Oh, Eddie-”

“Ugh, shit, I should’ve left at 5 when Thach offered,” Eddie grumbled, twisting around to bring the empty mug back into the break room.

“Just because she’s finally developed her breasts doesn’t mean she can’t be your friend anymore, dear!” Linda called after him in a manner that sounded sincere, but he could hear the edge of humor in her tone.

He grumbled to himself, trying to ignore how hot his face and ears felt. He was 25 years old. He shouldn’t have to feel this way. Part of him wished it was coming from a familial standpoint of Oh my gosh look at you, you’re all grown up, I can’t believe it! But no. No this was coming from the place of his inner adolescent self tripping up because the change in your appearance was so drastic. For all intents and purposes, you forever remained in a childhood time capsule while he continued to grow up. Then he blinked and you were showing up as a 24 year old woman, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t stupefied by it. And Linda had him figured out in record time.

He rinsed out his mug, shooting a playful glare at her when she walked in to place her mug from that morning in the sink.

“Oh don’t be so sour. I’m sure she’s just as surprised to see you all grown up.”

*

“Good to see you’re back in the land of the living,” you teased when Eddie called you later that night after work and dinner.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, phone cupped between the side of his face and his shoulder as he lit a cigarette. He inhaled deeply then let out a contented sigh, watching the plume of smoke dissipate the further it traveled through his room. He dropped his hand down that was holding the common vice between his middle and forefinger, ring finger picking at his pajama pants. “But uh… seriously. I’m sorry about that. I just… haven’t been sleeping well.”

“Oh,” you said rather simply, shifting to get more comfortable in your spot. “‘D you wanna talk about it?”

“Nothin’ to really talk about. Just have a hard time sleeping.”

“Like, falling asleep or staying asleep?”

“Uhh yes.”

You rolled your eyes and allowed him a breath of a pity laugh at his response.

“When did that start?”

“‘D you end up going to school to be a shrink or something?”

“Oh god no,” you all but dry heave, the mention making you think of that tool from your college. “I went for an education degree.”

“No shit?” His voice lilted up at the end and you could hear him following it up with a deep inhale and exhale of smoke. “So you want to be a teacher?”

“You’re avoiding the subject, Eddie.” Although to be fair—now you were too.

“Whatcha gonna do? Spank me with a ruler or somethin’, teach?” He tittered, and he was grateful that you couldn’t see how he immediately rolled his eyes up to the ceiling and silently asked the world why the fuck he just said that. The only relief from his debilitating misery was the way you laughed at his stupid comment.

“Screw off,” you giggled before sobering your tone. “No but really—is everything okay? I feel bad that you’re not sleeping.”

“Why? It’s not your fault.”

“No, I know…,” you murmured, toying with a loose thread in the motel comforter. “Just wish you didn’t have a hard time sleeping.”

“Yeah me too,” he laughed and smothered the glowing end of his cigarette into his ashtray when he was done with it. “But it’s not a big deal.”

“I could make you chamomile tea or something. That always helps me sleep,” you answer, your heart thrumming from the simple offer.

“You really want to come to my crappy place and make me leaf water?”

“Or just don’t sleep tonight. Wish you the best, Loogie.”

Eddie’s groan crackled through the old phone, and you could feel the eye roll that came with such a sound.

*

“So—oh careful it’s hot—” you murmured when he carelessly dragged the mug to his side of the countertop in his small kitchen, not wanting the tea to spill over onto his fingers.

It didn’t take much convincing for him to welcome you over to his trailer, and you were all giddy over seeing his place. He put a lot of emphasis on the fact that his home was shitty and didn’t understand your joy, but you were happy nonetheless.

“So it should help you get sleepy, and if you wanna you can make a wish when you stir it,” you grin over at him like a little kid, and he finds it endearing that you still enjoyed something as simple and sweet as making a wish. He remembered how as kids, you clung to just about every scenario that could incorporate making a wish. A lone eyelash on a cheek. A birthday candle. A dandelion. A friendship bracelet.

“If you stir clockwise you can wish for something into your life, or you can stir counterclockwise to wish something out of it,” he eyes you from where you’re settling your elbows on his counter and cradling your chin on your open palms.

“So I can… wish for a shit ton of cash or something and I’ll wake up a millionaire?” he questioned, still smiling even when you give him your best glare.

“Ha-ha,” you sneer. “No, jackass, but you can wish for abundance.”

“Abundance?”

“Yeah, like wishing for better opportunities to come your way.”

“Or I could start selling weed again,” he counters, watching the way you push away from where you were leaning into his counter.

“You’re being mean.” you complain and it feels more familiar to him than anything else.

“Alright, alright. I’m sorry,” he sighs out through a light laugh. He shakes out his arms theatrically like someone preparing for a daunting task—only to lean in and grasp the handle of a small spoon between his fingers.

“You sold drugs?” you suddenly ask and his gaze flits up.

“Do you mind? Trying to make a wish over here.”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, but he just kept staring at you.

“What?”

“Do you have to watch me?”

“Oh I’m sorry, can you not perform while I’m looking?” you bunch up your lips into a mocking pout, and now it’s his turn to glare. “Fine.”

Once you’re turned around, you hear the occasional clink of metal against ceramic and it makes you smile until you hear the gulping that follows.

“Oh my god— it’s a cup of calming tea, not a shot of tequila,” you gasp as you turn to find him downing the liquid that was probably still scalding hot.

“Yeah no shit,” he chokes out, putting the mug that was still half full now before sticking his tongue out and looking down to try and see if he could find any evidence of the burning he felt. Between the oatmeal and the tea, his taste buds were taking a real beating today. You giggle at the ridiculous action, and then even more when his gaze turns up to you with his tongue still out.

“I’m sorry, is this funny to you?”

“Yeah,” you admit honestly, giving him a big smile through the small titters that melts his heart.

“Keep it up. We’ll see who’s laughing when I’m ditching town with a million bucks.”

“Screw off, I told you it doesn’t work that way--” you huff, reaching over to nudge his arm and it only encourages his goofiness. Eddie’s leaning into the counter as he grins over at you.

“So when does this shit kick in?”

“It’s tea, not a downer,” you counter in a patient tone and gently move the cup closer to him. “Just keep drinking it with slow sips and try to relax.”

He hums in lighthearted disappointment at it being pointed out that the tea wasn’t a strong sedative, but he already feels somewhat calmer even in all his excitement over messing with you. The scent of the chamomile and honey, and the smell of your perfume. The softer tone of voice you took on when you focused on the fact that your task was to help him relax and sleep. The familiarity of your presence even with the distance caused by time apart. The coziness of his pajamas and your matching sweatshirt-sweatpants combo.

“Remember when we were kids? And I slept over all the time?” you murmured randomly, this moment of helping him calm down to sleep directing your thoughts to that simpler time.

“Yeah,” he grinned and leaned forward on his forearms. “And my dad always insisted you stay in a sleeping bag on the floor-”

“But you let me climb into your bed if I had a nightmare,” you finished for him, blushing at the fond memory.

“If? You were always scared of the dark. You never stayed in that sleeping bag.” he chortled and dragged his mug up to his lips.

“I never got why your dad didn’t want us sharing a bed. Even now, it’s stupid. We were kids, it’s not like we thought about stuff like… like…,” you start with a laugh before trailing off as you feel a thick fog of awkward tension suddenly settle in his trailer. You clear your throat and look down at your hands.

“Just stupid. We were too young. A-and even if we had been teenagers it’s not… it’s not like…,” you sputter, internally screaming at yourself for directing the conversation this way.

“You would not have wanted to share a bed when I was in the throes of puberty,” he snorted and displayed his hand outward as if presenting scenes from his teenage years while he dramatized those last three words. You were grateful for him saving you from this mortifying moment with his sense of humor.

“The people are right: teenage boys are disgusting.”

It’s your turn now to snort and raise your brows as you concur with a simple nod.

“Which is so unfair, by the way,” he points at you after settling his mug back down from another sip. “Why do girls just get better? And we have to suffer?”

“Oh please,” you scoff incredulously. “Have you ever had a period before? A single cramp? Bled through your jeans and everyone can see?”

“Uh, have you ever gotten a random hard-on during a presentation in school?” he countered and you flinched at the idea.

“Oh god…”

“Yeah. I wanted to drop dead.”

“…What were you doing a presentation on?” you wonder after a pause for consideration, a curious smile pulling at your lips. He eyes you from under his lashes and curly bangs before looking down at what’s left of his tea as he mutters under his breath.

“I’m sorry?”

“S’lm ‘ch ‘ls.”

“Come again?”

“The Salem Witch Trials,” he finally admitted loud enough for you to hear and you throw your head back in a cackle as he buried his face in his hands. You eventually sober up enough to speak again, eyes wild with amusement.

“You got off on people being unjustly executed in Colonial America?”

“No!” he groaned, separating his hands from his face.

“No, that’s the worst part. I wasn’t even turned on by anything. It just-“ he gestured towards his groin that was hidden behind the counter. “It just did it on its own.”

“Oh that’s so humiliating.” you whisper like it’s a secret, and he huffs.

“Yeah, no kidding— will you stop smiling about it?”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can. It’s too funny,” you admit with an apologetic scrunch of your nose.

“No, now we have to get even. Now I have to know something embarrassing about when you were a teenager,” He waved his hand, urging you to contribute so it was fair.

“Can’t think of anything. I was perfect,” you sighed sweetly with a hint of grandeur, hands pressed against the counter top and head tilting into your shoulder. He stared you down until you crack with a giggle.

“Uhh, let’s see…,” you hummed, looking off at a corner of his ceiling while you perused your memories. Your face is neutral and deep in thought until something clearly hits you sideways and makes you cringe.

“Well, I got pantsed in high school when I wasn’t wearing any underwear.”

“Ouch,” Eddie hissed at the memory as if it personally hurt him before he barked out a laugh. “Bad day to go commando.”

“I didn’t even mean to,” you whine, now the one hiding their face. “It was gym and I forgot another pair of underwear. I didn’t want to sit in sweaty underwear for the rest of the day so I just…”

“And someone pantsed you?” he cackled, hands hugging his cup.

“Yes,” you huff with a pout. “It was Zachary McKay.”

“He was always a tool,” Eddie muttered now, a small yawn escaping him. “Even when we were kids.”

“He had a crush on me after that, though, so I benefited from the sudden kindness for a while,” you let out a hollow laugh, as if that saved you from the humiliation of everyone seeing you half naked in gym.

“Oh god, you didn’t date him did you?” he asked like it personally pained him, and the torture wouldn’t let up until you shook your head.

“Ew, no. He just had a hard-on for me after seeing me half naked, and then he was right back to being an ass when I turned him down.”

“Good girl,” Eddie muttered casually over you not stooping low enough to entertain anyone as awful as McKay.

He didn’t even think about it, and the phrase wasn’t drawn out in that way someone would when they were being provocative, but it still nearly made you choke on your spit. You were grateful for him going around the corner of the counter and behind you to put his mug in the sink after downing what was left, so you had a chance to recover. You wanted to drop dead like a teenage boy getting an involuntary erection in the middle of a presentation.

“Sorry he was an ass to you just cause you didn’t wanna date him, though. Not that I’m surprised that he’d do that,” he muttered, walking up from behind you after abandoning the sink. He’s brushing against you for just a second and then back to his spot across from you.

“Yeah…,” you agreed breathlessly and forced yourself to look at him. “You look like you’re getting tired. Want me to leave so you can try to sleep?”

Or so I can throw myself into a pit?

“I feel bad kicking you out after you were nice enough to bring me stuff,” he reaches over to grab the box full of chamomile tea bags for emphasis. “And making it for me and everything.”

“It’s okay, really. I know you have a busy day tomorrow… I do too, actually. Not until a bit later, but…,” you trailed off as you collected your thoughts and toy with your hands. “Really. I don’t mind leaving so you can sleep.”

“Okay… but if you get any nightmares don’t call me cryin’ cause you can’t climb into my bed,” he teased while he stretched, the bottom of his band tee lifting to show a sliver of tummy.

“Oh, please,” you scoffed and he huffs out a laugh, letting his arms drop back down to his sides.

There’s a moment where that distance comes back. You forgot it still existed until it got to you leaving. Do you just say goodbye and head out? Do you hug? He doesn’t seem sure either and just kind of scratches the back of his neck while jutting his thumb towards his bedroom.

“I should probably go to my room if I wanna sleep.”

“That’s a good choice.” you snickered, placing the strap of your purse over your shoulder and starting to gravitate towards the door. “Let me know if the chamomile helps.”

“I will,” he offered you a small, charming smile as he picked at the skin of his thumb. “I uh—shit, right-”

He goes over to you now, extending an arm.

A hug. Okay. You’re gonna hug.

You wrap an arm around his torso in a half hug just as his hand lands on the screen door’s handle. The creak of old springs is too late and you already hugged him. Fuck.

“Oh I was- no. Yeah,” he stumbled over his words.

“I’m sorry I thought-”

“No, no. I-”

He briefly wrapped you up in his arms and somehow being scooped up into him was worse than if he had backed away from you. He was keeping you hostage in your own humiliation, even if he was trying to be kind. You desperately wanted to savor his body heat and his smell of tobacco, leather and cinnamon, but you can’t even do that. Not while your fight or flight is setting off alarms all throughout your body.

“Thank you for stopping by,” he rubbed your back before parting from his gesture that he felt he should’ve already been offering. “Really.”

“Any time,” you squeak out, trying to laugh off the awkward moment to seem cool and casual, but you’re probably just making it worse.

“Night, Looddie- Loog- Ed- I…Wow, I started to say one and then went with the other… and I just said Looddie… that’s great.”

You laugh again with one foot out the door, and he seemed genuine when he joined you but it didn’t stop you from wishing you could disappear in a magnificent feat of spontaneous combustion.

Once you were outside of the trailer, you felt paralyzed by your own embarrassment and deafened by the unrelenting silence of night. If it weren’t for the fact that he would hear you, you’d be smacking your head off the side of his trailer and screaming.

This was so much worse than being pantsed by Zach McKay.

*

taglist: @mystars123 @h-ness1944 @ohmeg @milkymil-k @eddiesprincess86 @stopbeingcurious @corrodedcoffincumslut @sidthedollface2 @spoonflix @madaboutjoe @fckyeahlames

[eeunoia]

ENHYPEN Series

sinag — psh.

prelude

synopsis: waiting for a great plot twist in your life, the ruthless and powerful mafia boss park sunghoon forced his way in to it.

pairings: park sunghoon x oc

word count: 2k

warnings: a contains violence, guns, killings, abuse, obsessive love & other stuff. if you can't take this stuff, feel free to scroll away. let me know if i missed some.

note: leave some messages on my ask! thank you so much for reading.

© 2023 eeunoia — all rights reserved.

here ‹ teaser | chapter one › here

You screamed as you sat yourself up from your bed awoken from sleep by a terrible nightmare. Shaking a bit, hair messy and drenched with cold sweat, your eyes wanders around the dimly lit room anxiously. One of your hands slowly trailed towards your chest and clasped your frantically pounding heart. Being acutely aware of what happened in the dream made you so upset.

Tears formed at the corner of your eyes, unable to even think properly. These are just one of those days when you dream or more like relive what happened to you that horrifying night. Memories you wish to entomed at the back of your mind and eventually forget about it. If you can only get rid of it like magic, you would trade anything. You stood up and head towards your bathroom, bowing to your fate to go on your day like nothing’s wrong.

After taking a shower and dressed up to fully freshen yourself up before going to the office, you stopped by your kitchen for a coffee. While waiting for the beans to be ready, your mind went blank and to feel frazzled without even starting your day is unbelievable for you. The nightmare sure worked and sucked all of your energy for today.

The ride on the way to the company you work at was surprisingly short, probably because you are still out of it. When you arrived at your floor, Laurie, one of your team members, looked in distress. She was leaning over her table, hands resting over her head while staring blankly at nowhere. At the sight of you, a hint of irritation flashes through her face.

“Finally!” she exclaimed, jumping off from her seat then start dragging you towards the pantry of the office. Taking advantage of the early time and having the whole room for yourselves.

“What happened? You don’t look okay.” it was funny coming from you when you aren’t too.

She sighs and rolls her eyes, “What happened last night on your date?” her way of saying it was like an interogation. The bitterness through her tone was clear. Your brows folds and draws together, causing a crease to your forehead. It was hard for you to put the puzzle together right away.

“Huh? Last night?” your words stall at the attempt of remembering of what you did the past night.

Your brows arched after a couple of seconds, “Ah! You mean with Mr. Kang? It’s not a date, Laurie. Its a work dinner.”

The unpleasant look on her face shows off her frustrations about something. “Well something obviously happened and you did something that upsets Mr. Kang! Maybe he thought it was a date! Did he confess? Did you reject him?” she sounded worked up, trying to make you throw up answers she’s been deprived off. It was too many for you to even process it one by one.

“He invited me to go on a trip outside of the country and I declined it saying I have a boyfriend—”

“He did what?!” her eyes were big and even held both of your arms, shaking you a little. You blinked a couple of times, confused and started to feel uneasy of her behavior. You two aren’t the closest friends and she’s very vocal of her totally not liking you. She often tries to make malicious comments about how Mr. Kang has always too kind with you, envying.

“He likes you, Ae!” she says. “And now that you rejected him, he’s punishing all of us. Thank you very much!” the sarcasm was too much that it hurts your ears.

You are still confused, but you shift your weight on your other leg before trying to catch on what’s happening. She lets go of you and leaned over the counter before staring blankly at the wall like a new found habit. She looks like she’s about to go crazy any minute now.

“Why? What did he do?” the eagerment now passed on you, worried of what he possibly did that upsets Laurie this much.

She glanced at your direction, eyes shooting glares, “He wants us to start again with our campaign advertisement.”

Now that made you utterly shock. You refuse to believe what you heard from her. Closing your distance with her, you stepped once and gently grabs her arm to make her look at you.

“He can’t do that! He just approved it yesterday.”

She pursed her lips and shoved your hold off. ”He just did, Ae. He calls me a while ago and he looked so pissed.” she then lets out a strained sigh. Even without saying it straightly, you are being blamed. She’s blaming you.

“I can’t believe you flirts with him and then rejects him! Now all of us have to suffer because of you!” the veins over her neck pops out in frustration.

“I neve did that, Laurie.” you tried telling her, but she just rolls her eyes as she cross her arms.

“Whatever! Everyone here knew you’re suspicious.” she mumbles the last line. You heard it, tho and you aren’t surprised.

Your shoulder fell too as you leaned over the counter beside her. Eyes shut for a while you throw your head back and silently wished all of this are not happening. The exhaustion you were feeling before going here just got worst. This day isn’t going well for you already.

“There you are,” the two of you snaps your head at one of your workmate when she talked.

“Mr. Kang is looking for you, Ms. Lee.”

You stood up straight as you glanced at Laurie for a while. She showed an unpleasant expression before rolling her eyes in defeat. You told the girl that you will go in a bit and so she left. Laurie turns and face you.

“Go and try to change his mind! Do something, Aelia! Fix the mess you created!” her requests came out arrogantly and gave a short nod.

You feel bad that she’s making up stuff and that she’s blaming you, but you admit you felt bad for the whole team. Maybe you are at fault at some way and so you should really do something about it. You can’t just let it all put into waste.

Determined to stood your ground, you walks towards the office of your boss. His secretary’s restless expression on her face indicates that he’s probably in a foul mood. It somehow made you feel anxious.

“He’s waiting for you.” she stood up and opted to open the door for you, “He’s in a very bad mood, Ae.” she whispers under her breath as a warning that made your knees almost wobble on your way inside.

He was at his swivel chair, a folder on his hand, forehead creased while reading whatever document it is. He didn’t spare you a glance at all. Its starting to make you wonder if the guy from last night’s dinner and him are the same person. Thinking that you made someone upset pinches something in you. You hate that feeling at all.

“Good morning, Mr. Kang.” you tried to sound enthusiastic to somehow lift the mood, but to your dismay he was unresponsive.

“I want you to prepare your passport.” he stated that made you blink twice. His words didn’t sink in, totally not processing for you. Did he mention passport? Your passport?

“Sir?” you calls, baffled on the spot.

He finally lifts his gaze and eyes you with a placid look on his face. “Are you deaf? I said prepare your passport. I will send you in another country for a business meeting and a seminar.”

You have no idea if he’s just talking too fast or his words are just nonsense that’s why you cannot understand any of it. Pretty sure it was the latter as you can’t help but to start feeling irritated. He can be upset about last night, yes. But this is terribly unrighteous.

“I’m sorry Sir, but I can’t—”

“You can’t?” he cuts you off then lets out a scoff, “Are you saying I promoted the wrong person to be the team leader?” his tone taunting, sounding more like a challenge.

“N-No, Sir. It’s just I can’t go on a seminar and leave my team with all the works due.” your reason definitely makes a point, but your boss sure is determined on making you suffer.

“I don’t care. This is an order from your boss. Are you seriously reasoning out to me? I didn’t know you are this arrogant.”

You pursed your lips and tried hard not to say anything that can upset him even more. He closed the folder he was holding and tilts his head to the side.

“Its either you go to that seminar or you put your resignation letter on my table tomorrow morning.”

Your shoulder fell at what you heard. He held you at gun point. You worked hard to earn the position you have right now, you did everything you could to be here and so you surely didn’t want lose this. If you think about it, there’s a lot of benefits if you go to this seminar. You’ll learn from it and it will be good to your work records, all in all you’ll gain from it. It’s just that after what happened from your last trip which is years passed already, you developed fear of going on out of the country trips. The mental trauma it caused you left a deep scar that just by thinking of being in a place you barely know cause you panic attacks. It was terrible.

Laurie was hopeful when you walked inside your office. She peeks through the cubicle like a meer cat and gaze at you with full curiosity.

“What? What did he said?” she asked.

You sighed heavily and crashed yourself over your swivel chair. The frustration, annoyance and stress slowly spoiling your mood you couldn’t even make yourself into saying it to her. Some of your team members were there as well, looking and waiting for an update. They already assumed that it didn’t go well based on how you’re looking right now.

“He tasked me to attend a business meeting and seminar outside of the country.” you mumbles that made Laurie even more confused.

“What? Why is he sending you there on a trip while we suffer here to revise everything?” she exclaimed, she’s so upset yet again.

The glares on her eyes didn’t slipped off of you. Its not surprising anymore. It often happen whenever the boss favors you, she always thinks that you are charming your way to success and that you’re being unfair. That was totally untrue. You know to yourself how much you worked hard for this. Some people just couldn’t keep their thoughts to themselves, judging you wrongly out of envy.

“It’s not a trip, Laurie. Its for business.” you tried to tell her, but she rolls her eyes and arrogantly sat back down.

“Whatever! This is all your fault in the first place! You’re making us re-do all of it while you go on a trip!” she started blabbering that made some of your workmates to stare.

You wanted to tell her that she’s wrong and that it would be more traumatic for you, but you refrained yourself. Instead, you stood up and went out to go to the bathroom. Thankfully, nobody was there so you can breath and calm down. Your mind are on a mess as of the moment. There’s just so much going on. You wanted to let it all out and to tell someone about it.

“Mom,” you calls out after she picks up the call.

“What is it? I’m playing poker with my friends! Why are you calling, Ae?!” obviously, she wasn’t interested. When did she ever took interest about your life or to you in general? Despite of it, you tried to still open up to her.

“D-Do you think I should quit my job? I’m really having a hard time.” your voice cracked while saying it and just by hearing you, a normal person will feel sympathy. It was clear as a water that you are having a hard time.

“What do you mean quit your work?! Are you crazy?! How will we pay our debts after sending you to college? What about our rent, our food? You are so selfish! You only think of yourself!” she was outrageous.

You felt your heart ache at her words. Not only that your Mom didn’t listen to your words, but she only thinks of herself. You are thankful for them for sending you to college despite pursuing the degree you don’t really like. But after graduating and working, your parents started depending on you like you’re their bank or something. They stopped working and just left everything under your care.

“I’m s-sorry, Mom.”

You have a lot of things you wanted to tell your Mother. None of it came out from your mouth. As always, you kept it to yourself. This is one of the things you hate. Your best friend always tells you that sometimes, you’re being too selfless. That you’re such a people pleaser.

A tear left your eye as you try to get your shit together.

“Stop being ungrateful and be a good daughter to your parents! Don’t give me headaches!” and with that she ended the call.

Your parents are not very fond of you. Ever since you were a child, you are by yourself. You learned things alone. Before, you tried to convince yourself that its because your parents are busy working to support your needs. Later on, it slowly dawned in you that maybe they don’t really love you. They just did what they need to do in order for them to have someone they can depend on. And they did. They raised someone with a soft heart, someone who values family so much that she will turn blind-eye to everything they do.

It was tiring, but you have no other choice. They are your family and even if they’re cold, they are all you have. Sometimes, you just wished you will find someone who will love you the way you love them.

“Park Sunghoon.” the young man lifts his eyes from the papers he was reading over to the old man who entered his office. The frown on his face tells Sunghoon that he’s clearly upset.

“You have no business in being here, Mr. Kwon.” he tried to sound casual.

“I will not tolerate this behavior anymore! My daughter doesn’t deserve this humiliation!”

Sunghoon sighs and settles the folder down to his table. “You’re the one who kept on putting her in that place. I already told you, I will never marry her.” his strict blank eyes watches him carefully, unfazed.

“You are a disgrace to your family! What kind of man will turn back to a promise? And you are calling yourself a leader?!”

Sunghoon tilts his head over to the side, “As far as I remember I never promised anything. It was my father who proposed about that engagement. I had nothing to do with it.”

“You are to follow your Father’s order! And that is to marry Luna!”

He scoffed, an unamused grin crept over his face. “I am not under him, Mr. Kwon. I don’t bow to him and follow his orders.”

Sunghoon stood up, his aura intimidating the older one. “I created my name on my own, without any help from him. Do you think I will let him control me? Nobody will ever make me follow their orders.”

“And yet you are a slave to your own emotions.” Mr. Kwon stated.

Sunghoon didn’t speak.

“This obsession you have with this girl,” he starts. “soon it will be all a waste of time. Once you realized it was just one of your rebellious stunts to prove something, you will know that marrying Luna is your best option to widen your influence and power.”

“I will do everything so you end up with my daughter.”

Sunghoon clenched his jaw and silently stared at the old mafia boss' eyes. Slowly, he grins.

“There’s only one girl that I will marry.” he says in calm yet cold tone. “And I’ll do everything as well to have her.”

here ‹ teaser | chapter one › here

main master-list

sinag main master-list

permanent tag-list:

@rubyanne @map-of-border @hwangjangmi @crjwon @love13tter @edensgardenn @simpforniki @classicroyalty @bridgebridgebirdiebridge @hime98 @moonsclassyslore @ddeonubaby @yeoungie @acciomylove @mymeloem19 @jvngw0n @dreamjerky @minamoons @clar-iii @herasalvatore @nyfwyeonjun @rcveribin @yizhoutv @one16core @soobin-chois @kyutiepeachy @chareadingpurposes @hwalllllllelujah @solelyenha @90sni-ki @nourhan-8 @nikipedia07 @yangbreads @drunkjazed @kimmchijjajang @hoonbrry @axartia @all4haru @sta-rie @hiqhkey @purplepuppychild @iceeee @wtfhyuck @tobiosbbyghorl @nikililmj @moonlightisland @ayayiiie @aeyeree @bitchychildmiracle

tag-list:

@heeseung-min

[enrosadiraanisaaa]

Within Session .Part Four.

Hey there cuties, glad to finally post another part of Within Session! This fanfic consist of Yandere!Leon Kennedy. I intend for this fic to progressively become disturbing and fucked up with each chapter. While the first few chapters will be tamed, expect the following in this series:

~Stalking, Kidnapping, Forced Breeding, Degradation, NonCon, Gang Banging, Forced Pregnancy, Somnophilia, Blackmail, Manipulation, Abuse, Pet Names, Obsessive Behavior (Duh), Torture, Constraints, Mentions of Blood & Gore, Mental Degradation, Toxic Relationship, Sexual Abuse, Masturbation, Drugged & Drunk Sex, Loss of Virginity, Forced Penetration…

Also you will be retconned (Too bad 😏): Female Reader, 24 Years old and from Texas 💝

This story was purely written with RE 4 (Remake) Leon in mind. So no puppy dog Leon from RE2 or DILF Leon from later games & movies. The story takes place several months after the events of RE4. Yay, you’re in 2004!

I plan to make this series long and fleshed out, but I promise what you want will hit you like a train~🚂

This chapter does not contain any 🔞 material. This story will contain +18 content (NSFW) in the near future 🔞 If you’re a minor, please go read a real book or something, don’t cry to me when your mom finds your shit.  This story will eventually hit that point so don’t set yourself up.

Summary

As an on sight therapist for STRATCOM in Nebraska, you’re tasked with providing quality therapy for US military personnel and government agents. After working at the headquarters for 6 months, Hunnigan recommends you to a notable government agent, Leon Kennedy, who is in need of therapy. After a number of sessions with you, Leon notices a substantial stability in his sanity yet is threatened when you are offered a position back home, closer to your family and friends. Your choice doesn’t sit well with one particular client, who can’t fathom you out of your role as his therapist. Leon has found a means of keeping his precious therapist and realizes you are the key to his permanent solace. You were obviously destined to be his in some form. Why dream of him letting you go?

A\N: I was heavily inspired by Satoshi Kon’s Perfect Blue 💙, ExploreVenus’s Something Permanent and Guardian Angel by NexysWorld. We're getting closer to the nitty gritty of the story. Hope y'all like this bit slice of life before shit gets fucked up. Expect the next part to be out around in two weeks.

Hope y'all enjoy the forth part! More to come 💝~ Anisssa أنيسة

Here is Part One , Part Two, and Part Three of Within Session

Cherish These Moments

Silence soon settled into the office when Leon departed out of the room after the conclusion of his session. Typically, the end of the day consists of reflecting on each session into notes. These notes along with legal documentations and insurance sheets are submitted to your supervisor every day. Now alone in the office, you were seated at your desk, hastily typing on the keyboard while staring at the computer screen to complete these synopsis to turn in so you can leave for home. It was tedious work after consulting a number of clients throughout the day, which compelled you to finish these tasks immediately following the last client. As much as you loved your job, required work tasks such as these were mundane and annoying.  

       At this time, you were well aware the sky was already night outside due to it being the middle of winter. The drive home was always more extensive than you would like to admit due to the snow that has accumulated over the roads, and as a Texan, you were not well versed in driving in these conditions. People back home would swear up and down hell froze over if an inch of snow touched Texas soil, but snow was an ordinary occurrence in the Midwest, especially in Omaha, Nebraska. 

Eventually, you complete all the necessary notes after 40 minutes and send them through an encrypted email to your supervisor. A groan escapes your lips as you stretch up from your desk chair, standing after being seated for most of the day. With the documents and signature sheets in one hand, you turn to your chair to pull off your oversized coat from the back of your chair.

      “Fucking finally, I’m out this bitch,”You mutter in a whisper to yourself, stepping out the office and turning to lock the door. In tip-toed steps to quiet the clacks of your heels in the hallway, you reach a few doors down to slide in the documents and signature sheets in a plastic wall file holder. Now, walking in the opposite direction, you head towards the entrance of the building. While the steps of your heels echoed, you swung the oversized wool trench coat around the back of your body to stuff your arms in the sleeves. At the sight of your own red blazer and form fitting skirt, an involuntary huff resonates from within as you recall Leon’s stare upon your outfit, his sly remark and odd begrudging attitude when he first notices your attire.

     “Dude’s weird…”

          You simply shrug, tightening the sash to keep your oversize coat wrapped around your body as you brace to trudge cautiously in this godforsaken weather. Upon opening the entrance door of the building, the penetrating cold immediately stings your skin. Among the rows of cars in the parking lot of the building, you instantly locate your car that was slightly covered in flurries. Your baby- a cherry colored 1986 Nissan 300zx with turbo and T-tops that was bestowed to you as a parting gift from your father. This car was a part of your life since childhood, the memories of riding in the passenger seat while the t-tops were off impeded as staple moments you cherished. 

         Around the parked cars of the parking lot, you scurry towards your car, nearly slipping the process. Once inside your car, you turn the ignition on with the turn of your key, allowing the car to warm up. Thoughts of Leon invade your mind once more as you rest back on the driver's seat. During the session, you notice his attempted subtle glances and him anatomizing your figure. While Leon was fairly attractive, you hope this was not a recurring thing in future sessions, or he might have to be referred to another therapist. Violating boundaries and etiquette as a therapist could cost your career, and all the endeavors you endured in the past would be in vain for a man. ‘Not fucking worth it.’

      With that last thought, you shift the gear into drive, steering the car cautiously out the parking lot of the USSTRATCOM headquarters to proceed home. Through desolate roads, you navigate in ceaseless fall of sleet during nighttime, ultimately arriving an hour later in front of an old Victorian house. Once your car is parked on the side of the street, you venture towards the entrance of the house from your car. 

     The Victorian house was renovated into two apartments, the upstairs and downstairs into their own sections. Along with a roommate, you rented the upstairs section of the house that consisted of two bedrooms, one bathroom, a small living room and kitchen. 

      With your belongings in hand, you unlock the door to your upstairs apartment, making your entrance known to your roommate. 

       “Daddy’s home!”You holler upon opening the front door in amusement. 

     From the kitchen, a head peeped out to reveal your roommate, a 19 year old Mexican kid from California, Mateo. At this point of living six months with him, he became like a little brother to you, although you never understood why a profound kid like him lived in this city. 

      His caramel colored eyes peered from behind the wall, narrowing at you across the room before he visibly rolled his eyes. Mateo steps from the kitchen, clearly shaking his head at you as he glances disappointedly at your attire,”Ay pendeja, there you again, wearing a skirt in the middle of winter…” he exhales, walking towards you at the entrance. 

      In response to him, you shut the front door with a sly grin, loosening the sash of your wool trench coat to further reveal your attire. “Hey! I already had a new client today ogle at my outfit today! I don’t need you to say something…” You protest, walking past Mateo to set your belongings down on the couch in the living room. 

     A snicker can be heard from Mateo as he strides by your side,”Oh, they assigned you a new client today? And they were looking at your outfit?”He questions, crossing his arms.

     You nod, sighing in the process,”Yeah, they assigned a new client today on short notice, but I don't mind having new cases. Just this new client… he kept glancing at me during the session with this certain gaze. I don’t want to already form an impression based on the first intake session of a client, but I don’t know. And my friend who is a colleague of his recommended me…”

       While Mateo was intrigued by this revelation, he raised his eyebrows at you,”Oh, well is he cute?”He asks with a grin on his face, obviously to fuck with you.

       There was a momentary pause from you as you huff in annoyance,”Well yes, he is extremely cute…but I don’t want to think about a client in that way,” You continue, providing a playful glare to the brunet beside you. 

        “What’s his name?” Mateo inquires again, resulting in your eyes to narrow at him in suspicion. 

         “Leon,”You simply answer, unsure where he was going with this conversation. 

         “Oh shit, his name sounds hot. What does he look like?” He chuckles with a cunning smile. 

           A perplexed expression forms on your face, shaking your head to his inquiry about your attractive client. At this moment, you kick off your heels before you plunge onto the couch despite wearing your work attire, allowing the cushions of the couch to engulf your body into a state of ease. “Mateo… I was trying to describe my day at work to you, not for you to devise a plan to fuck my client. I know you, Mateo. The dude seems broken enough,”You relent, peering at Mateo from the couch. 

      From Mateo, an audible gasp escapes his mouth followed by a guilty grin,”Me? I would never… Anyways… I have something you might like but you wanna come home all snarky.”

      You instantly prop yourself on your elbows while laying back on the couch,”Aww, you got me something? Show me!” You demand, watching Mateo briefly leave the side of the couch before returning by your side to gently smack your face with a plastic cover. As stunned as you were, your eyesight instantly unblurs to reveal the hard case cover for Halo 2, directly in your face.

       With a drop of your mouth, you direct your attention up to Mateo as he stands beside you while you lay the couch,”No fucking way, you bought me the new Halo?”

     Mateo retracts the game case from your face while he smiles proudly at your reaction,”Yes! I was thinking we would invite the guys over after work on Friday for a little party… Do you have anything planned for Friday night?” He asks curiously. 

      A seething sound emits from your mouth as you recall plans for Friday night,”Damn, I promised Hunnigan I’d join her for some late night bingo,” You inform Mateo, forming a pout on your lips.

To your answer, Mateo merely shrugs while waving the game case with his hand as if he was enticing you,”It’s your call, or you can get your little bingo dauber and bet money you will no doubt lose,” He expresses with smugness. 

       You pout, contemplating how you will spend your Friday night,”But I want to spend time with my girl, Hunnigan… Fine, I will reschedule with her for a dinner date or something…Only because I want to beat ass in that game!”You huff, raising yourself from the cushions of the couch to sit up.

        By leaning over the other side of the couch, your hand reaches inside your purse to pull out a pink Motorola flip phone. Upon flipping the phone open, you immediately press buttons to dial the phone number of Hunnigan. Several rings pass until you hear a familiar feminine voice,”Hey, are you okay?” Her voice responds. A guilty sensation blooms in your chest, you were timid to cancel plans with her. Seconds pass by, you seem to have paused longer than you should.

       “Are you calling about Leon? Did the session go okay with him?” Hunnigan then asks on her end, her voice consisting of a slight concern.

        “Ah no, it’s not about that. Something actually came up on Friday… I was wondering if I can join you for bingo another time…” You finally answer in a nervous tone.

       A light giggle can be heard through the phone,”It’s fine, we can schedule another bingo date some other time.”

        You sigh in relief, clutching the cell phone to your ear,”Sweet, maybe a dinner date in the city? It’ll be my treat…”

      “Definitely…Well, I have to be at the headquarters building early in the morning. Let’s speak later about it another time,” Hunnigan then gently remarks.

       “Sounds good! Goodnight, Hunnigan!” You beamed before ending the call, clamping the flip phone shut. With a cheesy grin, you whirl your torso to Mateo, who is leaning against the couch,”She was okay with it…so party on Friday? Maybe we can make it a recurring thing on the weekends with the guys…” You suggest while nodding. 

      Mateo chuckled at your proposal,”Maybe…” he simply states.

A smile formed on your lips now that there was something to look forward to on the weekends. However, you would have to persevere through the remaining days of the week, especially with the last client on Friday.

[chaiandsage]

I was thinking about Trust Life (when am I not, I am insane and obsessed, I swear) and how it would fit into the larger canon of the life series as a whole, and two major things have always stuck out to me.

1) Limited Life, what with Jimmy being a Bad Boy and not saying I love you back to Scott (bc bad boys only love their moms) and how Scott would react to that through the lense of a post Trust Life game - I imagine him going back to visit Tango at TIES and just acting over the top about it like "How dare he not say he loves me back! Evil! Jail! Jail for Jimmy for ten thousand years!"

2) What healing happened between Scott and Impuse between the end of Trust Life and the start of the Secret Life games, because Scott was so ride or die for Impuse that season, Gem and the Scotts were all so close, but like, he and Impulse had MATCHING SKINS. And I mean, I know that it's difficult to say because Secret Life was only coming out around the time you finished TL and so it wasn't exactly something to factor in while it was being planned/written, but as established I am crazy and so I'm going to be fitting the TL lense over every life series that happens for the rest of forever and it's just funny trying to fit it together.

Anyways, that is all. Just weird thoughts with me.

Omg. Okay, so I too have considered this and first of all, for the record, I'm pretty sure I did come up with the outline and story idea for the fic long before LL and SL came out. I did try my best to alter things as new stuff happened, like for example, most of the interactions between Scott, Tango, and Jimmy after Trust Life (the game) were going to take place in Rivendell rather than a mix between Chromia, Tumble Town, and the Citadel--but I'm getting off track here. My point is that while LL does still take place after TL, if a bit later than it did in cannon, whatever happens during that game is still up for interpretation. Like that whole "Say it back" interaction between Scott and Jimmy could have still happened, or it could not have because the offshoot events of TL made things happen differently later. It's completely up to you what you would like to believe happened.

That being said, assuming that interaction did still take place between Jimmy and Scott, that whole "jail for then thousand years" bit is hilarious, but my take on it would be more like: Maybe Scott takes it for the joke that it is at first, but later, it slowly starts to eat at him the more he thinks about it. Same with Jimmy. Like in the moment he probably assumed that Scott would understand that he was doing it for a bit (which he did) but then starts to question if Scott really did understand that--and oh god, it's such a small thing to worry over and Scott seemed perfectly fine when he left but what if he really did take him seriously?? Maybe the worry keeps Jimmy up one night and he snaps, deciding to run over to Scott's base at (insert crazy late hour here) in the morning, knock on his door, grab him into a hug the moment he answers, and ramble about how sorry he is and that he was only joking and how he really, truly does love him and Tango more than anything in the world, and "please don't be sad, I will always love you I promise"-- And Scott just reassures him that he understood he didn't mean it (even though it did bother him a little, but he decides he'll just mention that later). Maybe they message Tango to come over and they all just fall asleep together that night only for Martyn to wake up and find them sleeping soundly in a tangled pile, thinking to himself 'How the heck did Scott's bfs break into our base am I really that heavy of a sleeper?' In conclusion, they're all idiots in love.

Scott and Impulse... yeah, that's a tough one. I would imagine that they'd heal eventually and start being friends again, but as you said, the speed and intensity at which that happens in SL would not make much sense when applied to the TL universe. And it wouldn't make sense for someone to pressure them into being on a team together since not doing THAT again was suppose to be Grian's entire takeaway after TL. So with all that in mind, here's the best take on this I can come up with:

Tango is very understanding about Scott's dislike for Impulse. He still hangs out with him, but constantly lets his boyfriend know that he is under no obligation to hang out with them or befriend Impulse just because he's someone close to him. Scott is fine with this at first, but later, he starts to view it as a challenge. He thinks back to what Cleo said to him during TL, how back then, she suggested that he try to get along with Jimmy since even though they'd broken up at the time, they weren't leaving each other's lives completely any time soon. He thinks the same applies to Impulse and how if he and Tango's friendship was able to make it through the mess that was Trust Life, then Impulse probably isn't going anywhere either.

Impulse still feels genuinely sorry and regretful for everything he did and said to Scott. He's spent some time before SL making up with Jimmy, but has made little headway with Scott. Scott doesn't outright hate him anymore but they're still far from friends. Impulse continues to feel guilty for his actions all the way till SL and he spends the beginning of that game quietly approaching Scott and trying to make conversation with him. Scott doesn't push him away, but he is still hesitant to stick around him. Nevertheless, Impulse continues to help him out occasionally during that first day, leaves little things for him like iron or food, asks him if he needs anything or if he could get him something, maybe shoves him out of the way and takes an unexpected headbutt from a stray mountain goat for him at one point... But sometime later, Impulse gets his secret task that says he needs to "make cherrywood his entire personality." He sees that Scott and Gem have decided to build their bases in the only cherrywood biome on the server, so now he's gone and made things even more awkward by being forced to do the same through his task. He continues to hang around them in the same biome while being entirely unable to explain that he's not trying to be weird, he's just doing it for his task and Scott just happened to want to set up his base in the one biome he really needed to be surrounded by for the day. So ensues some very awkward tension that carries on throughout the day where Scott feels as though it would be too harsh of him to outright ask Impulse to leave while Impulse continues to panic internally and Gem tries her best as a mutual friend of them to lighten the atmosphere a little and defuse the tension. Surprisingly, it works and the three of them end up having a little fun.

At the end of the day, when Impulse is FINALLY able to reveal his task, Scott is the first one to burst out laughing at how ridiculous it is--"THAT was why you wanted to build in that biome? Ha! Oh my god-!"--Any lingering discomfort between them is effectively broken and Scott decides that he's alright having Impulse stick around the same biome as he and Gem for the rest of the game. He wouldn't just force the guy to build an entirely new base somewhere else, would he? That would just be overly petty. They continue to talk throughout the game, grow a little closer, Gem continues to mediate between the two of them and tries to get them to see the good in each other. Maybe she has a few one-on-one conversations with each of them about this when they're alone and the timing calls for it. Meanwhile Jimmy and Tango (Tango especially) start to wonder how the heck these two are so okay with each other now. Scott tells them about it later. But yeah, that's about the best I can do for how wild their situation is. Would love to hear some of your ideas if you have any or ever come up with some!