#give him a minute to figure out that you're supposed to feel differently about a romantic partner ok

[bellabrady]

911 writers can pry gay eddie diaz from my cold, dead hands

[barcaatthemoon]

housewife || mary earps x reader ||

mary makes a comment about you not doing enough around the house, tipping you over the edge.

"mummy!" dillion cheered as mary walked into the flat. you glanced over the back of the couch to watch as your wife took in the chaotic state of things. you had spent all afternoon loading up the things that absolutely had to be shipped to france, but waited to pack up other things for mary to get home.

"good evening my little prince." mary bent down and scooped dillion into her arms. you watched her set him down again and push him towards his room, muttering for him to pick out more toys to pack up. "you know, if you're gonna be home all day, you could at least clean up a bit. i don't work myself to the bone to come back to this."

"mary, i'll give you one chance to tell me that you're joking," you told her. mary looked at you incredulously, as if she couldn't believe your audacity. you matched her look, resulting in the two of you just staring at each other for a couple of minutes.

"i don't want to fight with dillion here," mary told you. it wasn't a resolution by any means. in fact, it was your warning that this was going to sit and simmer with mary for the rest of the week.

whenever you had met mary, you had lived a very different life. you worked for a big company as a marketing advisor. the lionesses had hired you for help, and once you saw mary, it was love at first sight. the two of you hit it off immediately, and within the next year, you were married. you still worked from home sometimes on various little projects, but nothing that would have distracted you from dillion.

he was your son from a previous relationship, and for almost two years, his father had been involved. mary had been very understanding in letting you take time to yourself to figure things out. eventually, she had suggested that you stay home and focus on family. you had been skeptical for this exact reason, but you had agreed anyway. and for years, it worked until it didn't.

you could see the cracks form almost immediately. mary's frustrations with united seeped into your relationship. she was a great wife, but she had grown angry and demanding. at times, you pondered divorce, but no matter how bad it got, you never even mustered up the courage to leave.

"what's with the box?" mary asked as she watched you carry one of the boxes from the hallway closet into the bedroom. most of mary's things were packed away and set to arrive at the new place in france, but you were still sorting through your things. you'd arrive with mary, and then collect the rest of your things when you flew back to england to finish up the last couple of projects you had left.

"i'm unpacking," you told her. mary looked confused, but didn't say anything. you could still see the anger simmering beneath the surface. dillion was tucked away in his bed, fast asleep. you were glad that he could sleep through anything because you had a feeling that mary was going to blow a gasket when you told her your decision. "i don't think that i'm going to france."

mary's phone clattered to the ground. you winced at the sound and knowledge that it was definitely cracked. still, mary made no move towards it. she just stayed frozen in her spot on the bed. mary had cooled down a bit since she had gotten home, and while she wasn't at the point of an apology, she was willing to talk things out with you and try to listen.

"don't be ridiculous, it's a done deal (y/n)." mary was spiraling, and while you wanted to stop it, you knew that you couldn't just give in to her. "i've signed. we talked about this. it's a big step, but i think that we're ready. dillion is so excited."

"mary, i've been trying so hard, but i can't. things were supposed to be different when you signed to a new club, but they won't be. this rough patch, it's not getting better like i thought. maybe we should take some time apart," you told her. mary's eyebrows furrowed and she sat up on her knees to crawl to the edge of the bed. "i think i'm gonna sleep on the couch tonight."

"no, please don't," mary pleaded with you. she followed you into the living room, where you had obviously done some unpacking after putting dillion to bed. "you're serious, aren't you?"

"yes mary, i am. some days, you're exactly the woman that i fell in love with, but most of the time, i don't recognize you. you're angry, and i get that it sucks, but you can't take it out on me."

"i would never take my anger out on you, never," mary said. she tried to move towards you, but you put your hand on her chest to stop her. "(y/n), i've never laid a finger on you. i wouldn't, no matter what."

"not physically mary. i spent all day moving your things around and making sure that everything was packed up correctly. i did all of this with a hyperactive four year old who is struggling to work through his french workbooks. not to mention that i'm also trying to learn this language for you because i know that maybe if i have a head start, i can help you too. i've been doing so much for so long, but all you can ever do when you're here is lay around and complain. i'm done, i won't live like this!"

the look in mary's eyes was nothing short of regret. she crumpled down to her knees, and if it was anyone else, you would have brushed it off as a performance. because it was mary, you just watched as the guilt took over and she began sobbing. the anger turned inward, and mary donned a look that you hadn't seen in years, not since you had nearly broken up before.

"go up to bed. i'll be back," mary told you. she stood up and began to walk towards the door, pausing when she was behind you. "i love you, don't forget that. i love you, i'm sorry, and i don't know what i'd do without you and dillion in my life. if i'm out of the house when he wakes up, tell him i love him too, okay?"

"mary, where are you going?" you asked her.

"for a walk love, go up to bed," mary told you. she didn't move until you were gone, but you could hear the front door shut from the bedroom. this wasn't by any means the night you had envisioned for yourself when you woke up that morning, but you knew that your relationship needed some space. all you could do was hope that you'd see mary in the morning when you woke up.

[sxcret-garden]

Ateez Reaction ღ When you tell them you're horny in public [M]

ღ Ateez all members x gn!reader ღ genre: smut, reaction ღ warnings: mentions of semi-public sex in some parts

Hongjoong:

lil shit pt 1

is just gonna grin at you when you're at an event and you whisper in his ear that you're horny

the way he holds you close when he has his arm around you will immediately become more firm

he will be a tease about it and put more dirty thoughts into your head, either by telling you directly or by texting you paragraphs about what he wants to do to you across the room

observes your reaction closely and it brings him great amusement

until it's finally time that you can leave the event together

at this point both of you are so horny that you're not gonna make it home and you simply end up fucking in the car instead

Seonghwa:

has no idea what to do with the situation for like a solid minute

simply bluescreens because obviously if his s/o is needy he feels the need to please them but since you're in public he can't immediately do that, and that's very inconvenient

eventually figures out that a good next step could be getting you two home as soon as possible

and so he'll do anything to achieve that - even if you're out with friends or at an event he'll find a way for you two to leave early

the second you're home his lips are already on yours, and he can’t keep his hands off you as he's walking you over to the bedroom

Yunho:

you're out with friends as you whisper in his ear that you're horny

gives you that soft endearing laugh that's supposed to console you because he can't do anything about it at this exact moment

feels the need to stay glued to you afterwards, always having his arm around you and giving you small consoling touches (which do nothing to make you any less horny tbh jdhdjdjd)

that's until an opportunity arises for the two of you to sneak off without the others noticing right away

will take you by the hand and drag you off to the nearest bathroom

makes you promise to be quiet and will make it the hardest task ever by giving you the best head until he's sure you're satisfied

Yeosang:

has no idea how to react to you telling him this, but other than Seonghwa, he isn't going to recover anytime soon

he knows it's his duty as a good boyfriend to take care of your needs!! he's just too flustered to figure out how jxhddbhxbd

definitely needs a little push from you

so when you do drag him off somewhere the two of you can be alone for some time, that's when the gears up in his head finally start working again

and he WILL make sure to leave you absolutely satisfied in whatever short time you two have

is gonna give you such good head that you wish you could stay here with him all day

and needless to say, pulling yourself together afterwards is going to be the next challenge you'll face...

San:

the second you tell him that you're kinda horny, he gets horny too

will blush as he gives you a surprised look, but in his mind he's already going through all the different possibilities to get you two to the next best place to fuck

whether that's your actual home, or a public restroom, or a storage room, or wherever - he doesn't care

he knows you need him and that makes him need you too, but at the same time he knows just how inconvenient this situation is

keeps the perfect balance between consoling you and telling you to have just a bit of patience while figuring out where to take you

once he does find an opportunity, he doesn't waste a single second to take it, and he's gonna have you pinned against a wall and fucking you in no time

Mingi:

this can go one of two ways

he's either too flustered to function and doesn't really know what to do with the information

in that case he will eventually figure that getting you home asap would be favourable, so he'd try to make that happen

OR he eventually recovers and suddenly the idea of dragging you off and fucking in a semi-public space does sound kinda hot to him

needless to say, the thought gets him going as well, and so now you're just both looking for an opportunity to sneak away from the friends you're with

gets you off in a public toilet in a rush and you return the favour

however, this wasn't nearly enough for the two of you, so once you're in the comfort of your own home you can be sure there will be round 2 (or even more)

Wooyoung:

little shit pt 2

has soooo much fun teasing you about it

"Oh really? So what if I do this?" - touches you in inappropriate places without anyone seeing

and he's really good at sneakily making you even more horny without anyone noticing...

has the time of his life as he keeps riling you up with little touches and flirty looks and the occasional kiss right below your ear, disguised as just another innocent gesture between lovers

if you think he'll keep up the torture until you're finally home, you're absolutely right

isn't done with his teasing once you're home, but he'll make sure to make it up to you in ways that'll have you seeing stars in no time

however, he'd of course be just as happy if you turn the situation around on him and tease the shit out of him once you're home until he's literally begging

Jongho:

little shit pt 3

you'll wish you hadn't told him

simply reassures you that it won't be long until you get home once you tell him... only to end it with a sneaky comment meant to keep you on edge

will whisper the most subtle dirty things in your ear at the most unexpected of times throughout the day and have his hands on you more than usual

he knows exactly where the line is, and he'll make damn sure to balance on it as he messes with you

literally keeps his composure until the very end - and you’ll be surprised how quickly that changes once you’re finally alone

won't even let you be mad at him once you are finally home, he's simply gonna shut you up with a kiss and he'll be damn sure to make you think that enduring all his teasing was worth it

[darlingdreadwrites]

Omfg omfg omfg omfg ggogggiffuuk. That toby x final girl reader was too good I feel like I'm floating....could you do a Jeff x final girl reader?

i hope you enjoy this! sorry if it’s too much of a long read…

pairing: Jeff the Killer x Final Girl F!Reader

summary: you had anticipated a nice road trip with your boyfriend and some friends. when you're forced to stay at a motel for the night, you wished you had stayed home.

contains: Jeff the Killer getting a little crushy wushy on you (sorry i couldn't help it LOL), good ol' slasher shenanigans, Jeff unknowingly getting revenge for you

warnings: violence, gore, NSFW (ESPECIALLY UNDER THE RED DIVIDER), masturbation, insinuation of SA (nothing explicit, but can be read that way), a knife, character deaths, horror/slasher cliches

word count: 3.8k

masterlist

a.n: y'all i did not expect the attention i would get from the toby fics. I LOVE YOU ALL THANK YOU SO MUCH!! i know most of you followed for toby, but i got a request for jeff, so here you go!

This road trip was supposed to be fun. Your boyfriend—Tony—had promised you that. He promised that you’d have a great time. He promised that he would give you all his undivided attention. He promised he’d reign in his creepy friend’s weird comments. He’d promised he wouldn’t let his anger get to him.

“Jesus, old man. Just start the pumps back—“

But said old man interrupts him. They’d been going at this for a good few minutes now. “I cannot do that. You will have to come tomorrow. There’s a nice, luxury motel my buddy runs just up the road.”

“Listen,” Tony lets out a deep breath to try and control himself before he jumps over the counter to strangle the poor man. “We’re only trying to get out of this town, man. It is just one car.”

“If I start the oil back up, I’dun have to start it up for ev’rybody,” the man shakes his head, and I know he’s itching to keep up with the Southern Hospitality act.

You start to space out, having gotten used to Tony’s temper. You just wanted to sleep, no matter where. You spin on your heel and start walking down the candy aisle. There's a buzzing sound above you and you look up to see a flickering light. You swear you can make out the black dots of bugs that are being burnt to a crisp by the blinding lights. 

You almost scream as someone jumps next to you – seemingly out of nowhere – before you realize that it’s just your friend Stephanie. “Whachu want, girl?”

“Steph—“ You whisper-yell, and the girl only giggles. You shove her lightly and turn your attention back on the rows of different sugary confections. She looks up to see Tony still arguing with the gas station attendant. 

 “How long is he gonna keep doing that?” She asks you. You shrug in response. After a few silent moments, she walks around you. “Gonna calm him down.” 

“Mhm,” you hum and pick up a bag that is interesting to you. You squeeze it for no other reason than to hear the familiar crinkle of the plastic. From the corner of your eye, you can make out a figure walking over to you. You bristle already as Don’s cologne already starts to make your eyes sting. 

“You gonna get that?” He asks you and you want to immediately punch the cocky grin off his face. 

“No, just looking,” you answer simply. You place the candy bag back in its spot and cross your arms. 

“You’re already so hostile,” he chuckles, poking your side. You take a step to the side, putting more space between you. “Dude, come on. I’m just playing.” 

Don was never “just playing.” You almost learned that the hard way. 

“I think we're almost leaving,” mumbling, you turn to leave. He scoffs and stays in his spot as you walk toward Tony. Stephanie plays idly with her hair — not helping to calm Tony in the slightest. 

You were about to respond when a man nearly slams you to the ground. You catch yourself on your boyfriend’s back, who only noticed the interaction when you bumped into him. 

 “Watch it, asshole—” he shouts. 

You snap your head in the direction of the door, but the man was already gone. The bell hanging from the door almost flew off — you only caught a glimpse of white.

“You know what? Fine.” Tony glares at the worker. “Let’s just go to this shitty-ass motel and sleep with bed bugs, guys. Thanks for nothing, motherfucker.”

Stephanie and Don snicker, and your face burns from embarrassment.

“Luxury motel” my ass, you thought. This place was the dingiest shit hole you’d ever seen. It was a classic two-story nightmare that you would see in a horror movie. There was only one other car but yours, and you could see the grime on the walls from the car. The rust that clung to the metal railings on the upper level streaked down like old bloodstains. Half of the lights on the neon sign that perched from the roof were dead — making it read as “Mo.” But there was nothing your group could do tonight. There was only enough gas to drive back to the gas station tomorrow.

After securing the rooms — and Tony weirdly insisting that you and him have a room upstairs while your friends were downstairs — you all decided to head to the pool. That was the most normal your group had ever been in a while. You played around with them as they splashed water on each other, and Tony even got a little clingy. You missed that feeling of his body enveloping yours in his warmth – and not just for sex.

“I am so tired,” Stephanie exclaims as she climbs out of the pool. You follow behind her and grab your towel. Stephanie pauses and turns to look at you. “Hey, have you guys seen my key?”

“Didn’t you bring it?” You tilt your head to the side, wrapping your towel around you.

“I thought I did. Where the fuck—did one of you guys take it?” She looks over your shoulder to look at the two men. They only shook their heads. “Ugh. Guess I have to talk to that weirdo at the front desk. What was this name again? Miles? Mickey?”

“Micheal,” you correct her, suppressing a smile.

“Oh, yeah,” she giggled. “Micheal Myers.”

As you walk back upstairs to your room, you can’t help but walk a little closer to Tony. You felt shiver spreading like ice under your skin. An invisible force made you feel heavier, as if someone’s eyes were pressing into your back. The prickling sensation of the hairs on your body raising caused you to turn your head to look behind your shoulder.

“Scared?” The sound of your boyfriend’s voice causes you to look straight ahead. Both of you had stopped just in front of the stairs – you hadn’t realized.

“This place is so creepy,” is all you say.

The motel room was just as shitty as the outside, but at least it was warm. The lights were all a disgusting yellow color against the fake wood paneling. There was a small TV sitting on an aged drawer, a desk with a table, and a singular bed that you could already smell the dust from. You remind yourself to urge Tony not to use the thick blanket when you sleep.

You had just received a text from Stephanie saying she was going to sleep when Tony stepped out of the bathroom. You sent a quick message back to your friend before putting the phone down on the bed. You smiled up at Tony as he walked over to your side. He cupped your chin – sending a wave of heat through your whole body – before he lets it fall back to his side.

“I’m going to Don’s room downstairs,” he informs you and your face falls.

“Why?” You ask before you can stop yourself.

“He brought his PS4,” he says it like it’s obvious.

Of course.

“’Kay, well,” you swallow your disappointment. “Take the key. I’m not waking up to let you back in.”

“My own girl would let me sleep outside?” He looks at you with a lopsided grin, tilting his head. You can’t help but smile back. He hadn’t called you that in a while.

“I could. Now go.”

“Bye, baby,” he chuckles and turns to leave.

Your eyes stay trained on the back of his head until it’s blocked by the closing of a door. You bite at the inside of your cheek. You close your eyes, reinviting the tiredness you had felt earlier. Lifting the blanket, you slide down beneath it, settling into a lying position. An odd, old smell wafts from the sheets, but the warmth provides a comfort that you need.

You’re woken up from your slumber by the sound of a blaring car alarm. The walls do nothing to muffle the sound of the piercing, repetitive wail. Surely any member of your group could do it, and you wouldn’t need to get up. After another minute, you toss the blankets off you and swing your legs over the edge of the mattress. Sliding your shoes on, you stand up.

The keys jingle as you pick them up and stomp over to the door. You stick half of your body out of the door and point at the keys in the general direction of the car. That didn’t work. You groan and walk outside to get closer to the railing – the door closes behind you. Oh shit. But it was too late when you turned around. Pressing down on the right key fob, the car finally shuts up. You try the door anyway. No luck. The only one with the room key is Tony.

You walk down the stairs of the motel. In the distance, you could see Don still at the pool. Funny, you thought. Wasn’t he supposed to be playing with Tony? Maybe he got bored of watching your boyfriend. Walking over to Don’s room, a noise captures your attention. It’s not talking, more like moaning and giggling – from Stephanie’s room. You realized that you could see a crack of light coming from the door – it hadn’t been fully closed. You snicker, thinking of how you’d tease her for being desperate enough to get with Don.

Wait, but… you just saw Don. Still at the pool. And there had been no sign of Tony.

Slowly, and with an anxious flutter in your chest, you step in front of the door. The door stays miraculously silent as you gently push it open. You swear that your heart stops beating. There, on Stephanie’s bed, the pair are writhing against each other. Tony mouths at the side of her throat, while your friend’s arms are snaking under his shirt. You slammed the door as your heart threatens to jump out of your throat. You walk away, dazed – ignoring the loud sounds that emit from the closed room.

The air in the room was heavy with the scent of copper and the drone of the motel lights above. Jeff is leaning over the bodies of Stephanie and Tony, his blade dripping red as he finishes the final carving of a grotesque grin on Tony’s face. He’s precise with his movements – like an artist putting the final strokes to their masterpiece. Jeff had to reposition the bitch back on top of the girl he was swapping spit with. God, he could still see the look of horror on their faces. Her skin was pale and dull, with a similar smile etched onto her features.

He straightens up and takes a step back, assessing his work, and his head tilted. He’d really outdone himself this time, he thought. Jeff smirks, reveling in his sick joke. He lazily wipes his blade on Tony’s sleeve – not that it made a difference. These two were coated in blood he had fun playing with.

The shrill scream slices through his moment of silence – it had come from outside. He freezes before his head snaps toward the door. Who was that? His pulse accelerates, not from fear, but from curiosity. He walks to the door, another wide grin on his face. He cracks it open enough to peek his head through, the sound drowned out by the lingering echoes of the scream.

Jeff can see you on the second floor, standing frozen in place and trembling. His eyes travel down to the crumpled body on the floor – it was the other guy. Don, or whatever. His body lays in an unnatural position, and he can see the man’s lifeless face. His jaw was out of place, jutting out like an extreme underbite. Jeff would’ve cackled if he wasn’t meant to be quiet. That’s what’s so boring about targeting a group of people. He had to be quiet until everyone was dead. Which they all were, eventually.

But, then, his eyes flicker to you again. You weren’t crying like he thought you would be. You were just… there – you didn’t even look down to make sure your buddy was okay. Just one peek was enough for you – got you hollering like a pig – but you weren’t crying or running for the cops. He leans out further as you mechanically walk over to the stairs. The split second of fear he had seen on your face was all but gone. Your shock had made you numb, and you would just walk around it like it was nothing. Like your friend’s mangled body was just a bug.

“Oh, you’re fucked up,” Jeff whispered, a smirk on his face.

That excited him. He would be the one to get you crying in terror soon.

Nothing seemed real anymore. You were sure this was some kind of nightmare. That’s why you didn’t care. You just walked over to the ice machine – ignoring Don’s body on the floor – and grabbed a handful of ice. You don’t waste another second and shove as many ice cubes in your mouth as you could. Some had slipped out and crackled against the concrete floor. The pieces that skittered away had flown at your feet. But you didn’t feel it. You didn’t feel anything.

As you crunch on the ice, you slide some of the remaining pieces over your skin. The stinging cold that you would usually feel was replaced by a slight buzzing under your skin. You’re not sure whether you’re glad you can’t feel anything or not. You just wanted to sleep now.

Oh, right. The room key.

Letting the remaining ice cubes fall to the floor, you spun to head in the direction of the lobby. You didn’t want to deal with seeing your boyfriend’s tongue in your best friend’s mouth. You decided that you’d deal with them tomorrow. You didn’t care anymore. And they didn’t care either, it seemed. That’s why they didn’t come out running after you, right? They didn’t care enough to even pretend like they felt guilty. Tony wasn’t groveling at your feet, and Stephanie wasn’t crying her eyes out – begging you to still be her best friend. They had to know it was you that came into the room and slammed the door.

The lights overhead were a dull, sterile white compared to the yellow of the rooms – but it still smelled like piss. You could hear some sports game being played on a tiny, clunky box TV. But there was no sign of the owner. You turned your head from side to side but saw no sign of the fat old man. When you look back at the front desk, you notice the small rack of candy. Fuck it, you shrug as you reached a hand out and grab one. The numb buzz was starting to die down, but there was still no sense of real fear. Just the same tiredness you felt all day.

Guess you’d have to speed up the reunion early, huh?

The door to the room was slightly ajar once again. You had closed it, you remembered that. Maybe they had gone looking for you. Or at least when you had screamed. You nudged the door open with your foot.

Dropping the bag of candy on the floor, you felt bile rising in your throat. Your heart stopped for what seemed like the third time tonight. You honestly wished it would stop forever.

The putrid stench of the blood – let alone the sight of it – attacks your senses and made your head spin. The bodies were positioned as if they were frozen in a perverse display of intimacy. Tony’s face was right up on Stephanie’s, her cheek was being pulled on by Tony’s teeth to make it look like he was eating her face. Your stomach churned and eyes brimmed with hot tears. Doubling over, you retched onto the already stained carpet in the room.

You staggered backward, your legs threatening to give out as they shook. But you managed to take quicks steps back in the direction of the lobby. Your blood seemed to rush to your head, and you could’ve mistaken the pumping for the sound of drums. You wanted to scream and cry and throw up all at once. You wanted out.

Rounding the corner, the motel owner stepped out of a nearby room just a few feet in front of you. You could see the sweat on his shirt as he fiddled with the key ring – he was locking a door. He raised a hand to wipe some sweat from his brow, oblivious to your approach.

Your heart pounded as you stopped dead in your tracks. His actions were so mundane compared to the horror you had just witnessed. It made your stomach do flips. This was just another night for him. Another night of fixing the rooms and watching football on his TV.

“Sir-sir,” you tried to speak, but it came out in a shaky rasp.

Micheal turned to you, his brows raising in surprise. You had startled him. He gave you a once-over before smiling. “Is there anything I can do for you, miss?”

“They’re…” Your lips trembled as you tried to get the words to come out of your mouth instead of puke. You knew you were inaudible, but you didn’t have the strength to speak properly. “They’re… all… They’re dead.”

“I’m sorry, hon,” he leaned forward and squinted. “What was that? I didn’t quite catch—”

The man’s eyes widened and a wet, gargle emitted from his mouth as it hung open. Blood poured from the side of his neck, and a hand shot out to grab his shoulder and stabilize him. There was a squelching sound as the knife was dragged just above the owner’s shoulder. He crumples forward, sending a shower of blood your way, and some of it fills your mouth before you close it tight. Your eyes follow the sight of the keys that land with a soft jingle at your feet.

You stare at the man responsible for only a second. His scarred, unnaturally pale face is framed by jet-black hair that falls wildly across his face. It casts shadows onto his skin, especially his sunken-in, hollow eyes. They’re wide as they stare at you – cold and vacant. His most defining and spine-chilling feature is the wide, carved out smile on his face. It looked like it had scabbed over months ago, but it was still glaringly present. If this man was human, he didn’t look it.

But you act faster than you or he anticipated. You dive for the keys, picking them off the ground, when, suddenly, you feel a hand grab your wrist. He pulls you back up, bringing you closer to his body.

Just when you thought it was all over, you realize that the man is just staring at you. You feel his warm breath hit your face, and you can’t tear your eyes away from him. You’re confused, and it seems that so is he. Using this to your advantage, you smash the ring of keys into the side of his head.

As he howls out in pain, you break free and take a few steps back. You turn and bolt in the direction of a beat-up truck – the only other vehicle in the parking lot. Your hands shook and you clutched at the keys held tightly in your palm. It felt like you could suffocate with the heavy, tense air that surrounded you.

You cursed under your breath as you tried – and failed – to fit the key into the car door. The sound of the jingling only heightened your sense of panic. The key finally slipped into the lock, and you let out a quiet whimper. You yanked the car open, not daring to turn around.

Jeff simply watched you with a wide grin on his face. He was amused by your desperation – elated by the thrill of hunting you down. When the car clicked open, something in him clicked. His smile faltered as the realization that you were almost getting away hit him hard. With quick movements, he sprinted toward you and rounded the car to the driver’s seat.

You practically flew into the driver’s seat and slammed the door just as Jeff’s knife made contact with the window. The loud, grating sound of metal meeting glass caused you to scream. But you continued your attempt to get away. You jam the keys into the ignition, ignoring the hand slamming into the window.

“You bitch,” he snarled, banging on the glass. “I’m gonna gut you like a pig when I get my fucking hands on you!”

The tires of the car screech as you threw it into gear, jerking it backwards. Jeff continued to try and slice through the window, the sharp blade leaving a jagged mark. He took a step back to avoid his foot getting run over by one of the tires. He watches as you manically speed out of the parking lot, his figure getting smaller in the rearview mirror.

Your breath was coming out in short bursts, and your heart pounded wildly. As you drive off, you get one final look at him. He just stands in the parking lot, his own chest rising and falling rapidly. He doesn’t chase your stolen car, but you can tell that his mind is thinking of how he can enact his revenge. For now, he’s proud that you’ve gotten away just this time.

Two Weeks Later

Jeff couldn’t stop thinking about you. He very rarely lets people get away on his sprees. Not that he was going to let you live, don’t be fucking stupid. He knew how to find you and what he’d do. The man was just biding his time. He wanted the time to be right. He wanted to make it special for you.

The thing was, that second guy – the one that was crushed on the floor – that wasn’t Jeff’s kill. And, as far as he knew, it wasn’t poor old Micheal’s either. You did that. Something had made you snap. And Jeff knew that feeling all too well. Just what had that useless motherfucker done to you? Must’ve been bad enough to cause a sweet little thing like you to break.

He… sympathized with you. In a very stupid way that he hated. But he also loved the blank look in your eyes as your brain numbed you to the act you acted on. That made him want you, oh, so badly.

He could make as many excuses as he wanted, but he wanted you. His mind replayed the whole thing like a movie. He thought about you while he trained, while he maimed, while he slept. And especially while pumping his hand along his cock. He’d stare up at the ceiling, mouth hanging open as low moans dragged out from his throat. He thought of the way your face twisted in fear, the blood that spattered on you, and oh that felt just right. That’s why he needed to see you again. He wanted you. He wanted you. He wanted you.

He hoped you were prepared.

[maxlarens]

driver!reader and engineer!george spiel:

I can just imagine if driver had a tyre blowout or smth George just becomes so apologetic and feels terrible-

“I’m so sorry I didn’t notice it in the data-“

*driver sighs* “for the a thousandth time, it wasn’t your fault.”

also when driver first moved to the team George had no idea how to comfort them after a bad race, unsure if they wanted space, or just someone to be with them. George decides to keep his distance until one race where driver just sighs and mutters “stay…please.” George’s heart melts and combusts simultaneously at this.

i love this it’s so sweet!!!! hope y'all enjoy!!! i feel so bad for not posting anything recently so i wrote this sooo quickly before i had to get ready for work lol😵‍💫😵‍💫

You know the disqualification wasn’t your fault.

You know that. How could it possibly be your fault anyway? Sure, if you twist it into something utterly unrecognisable you could make it into a personal failing. But you’re trying not to blame yourself for every little thing, and you’re trying hard not to micromanage.

You’re new at Mercedes anyway, you don’t want to come off too strong. Scare them off before they start to really trust you. It's a miracle in and of itself that you're here. A rookie driver, a woman, at Mercedes of all teams. Alongside Lewis Hamilton. You've got Susie and Toto Wolff to thank for that you suppose.

Anyway, you're trying hard not to think about the car just on the other side of the wall. Trying not to grab a tape measure and measure the chassis yourself. Like you'll find anything different than the FIA, like it'll change anything at all.

It's only P8 after all— four points— which is four points you'd have really liked to have to your name. Especially so early on in your rookie season. Toto knows that, had been apologetic on behalf of the team during the debriefing. You'd understood.

You'd tried to understand at least.

He'd said it wouldn't happen again.

Still, it hurts. There this ache in your chest that makes it feel like your hopes and dreams are slipping away through your fingers. This was the first race you felt you'd really begun to prove yourself and your position on this team and now everyone will be able to point to the disqualification and say this is why. She doesn't have the raw skill, it's because of the car—

"There's next week."

You snap your head up, startled at the noise. It's George, in the doorway. You'd not heard him come in, too busy navel-gazing, feeling sorry for yourself. God, you're pathetic.

"Hm", you question, trying not to let on that you're utterly miserable.

"There's next week," he repeats, inching into the room and closing the door gently behind him, "You'll do it again next week."

Your mouth twists involuntarily, skeptical. Even though you know it wasn't you. It was the car, it was some silly mistake from the warehouse. You couldn't have done anything. It just inexplicably feels like the world is crumbling in on you and you can't figure out why.

"You think?"

George nods, expression serious, a little harrowed. But sympathetic, like he understands, like he knows how it feels. You're inclined to believe that he does, he'd not given you a reason to think otherwise in the six odd months you've known him.

"Pretty sure," he says in such a way that you're sure he means 'unequivocally yes', like he believes in you wholeheartedly, like he'd never doubt you.

You're not sure what you've done to deserve that from him. This unwavering loyalty to you that he seems to have already. You just know you feel it too. Inexplicably.

You watch him, long-limbed and slightly out of place, shifting from foot to foot under your stare. He makes a move to leave after a long minute, giving you a cursory nod— you feel something open up in your chest at the thought of him leaving right. Some pit of yearning, some ache that you cant quite place.

"Wait," you say, feeling brave.

His hand falls from the door knob, he turns, tilting his head at you in question. His eyebrows furrowed.

"Would you stay? For a bit?"

He's nodding before you've got the words out, crossing the room to sit next to you on the couch. Not too close, but enough that you can feel the body heat radiating off him, smell him, a little sweaty from being out on the pit-lane, but mostly the smell of his cologne.

"Yeah," he says gently, "Of course, I can."

You nod in thanks, feeling a little exposed, a little vulnerable from your shame, from begging for a friend in him.

"Thank you, George. I just—" don't have anyone else, you don't say, feeling like that might be too far. Instead you let you sentence taper off and sigh, letting some tension leech out of you, "Yeah."

George moves closer, fractionally. Feeling brave again, you lean your head onto his shoulder, hoping he doesn't mind too much. You decide he doesn't when his arm comes around so he can rub little comforting circles into the top of your shoulder.

Slowly but surely, you feel all the anger and the sadness make way for some warm fuzzy feeling in your stomach. From then on, George becomes a regular fixture in your driver's room, especially post-race, especially when you feel like your heart has been stomped on. It's hard to feel like shit when George acts like you're capable of anything.

headcanon: george is a former driver turned engineer!

[starrystevie]

eddie figures out that he likes steve all because of nancy fucking wheeler.

it isn't often that they find themselves hanging out just the two of them, quite the opposite. this is the first time they've ever done it and the only reason nancy is even stepping foot inside the munson's new government-provided trailer is because she's having a crisis.

"but what does it mean," she asks, voice muffled as her lips wrap around the opening of her beer bottle before taking a swig. her cheeks hollow and her eyes shut against the feeling of the carbonation bubbling up before she fixes eddie with a glare that he doesn't think is for him. "it didn't... feel this way with barb."

and eddie's just sitting there on the couch, rolling a much needed joint for both of them, trying to follow along with what nancy is saying. she's pacing a hole in the carpet and her hands are flying around in a way that eddie himself does when the wheels in his brain are spinning too fast.

"... what didn't feel what way?"

nancy glares at him again and he gets the feeling that it's directed at him this time. he feels himself shrink under her eyes and wants to raise his hands up in surrender (he gives in and does indeed raise his hands in surrender).

"i think i'm in love with robin, please try and keep up."

eddie stills, his hands in the air and mouth open in shock. nancy's still muttering about something but his brain is stuck on the being-in-love-with-robin part of her tirade. it's not an issue, not in the slightest, and sure he's heard of people who... but he's never met someone who actually-

"are you even listening?" nancy asks, her tone firm. she has a hand on her hip while the other is clenched tightly around the neck of her beer. "what am i supposed to do?! am i just supposed to kiss her and tell her that her eyes are my favorite color and that i miss her when she leaves a room even for just a minute?"

"how should i know?! i'm not in love with robin!" eddie responds and he knows it's the wrong answer by how nancy's whole face falls in the span of .02 seconds. she looks like she's on the brink of tears, frustrated or hopeless or sad, and eddie doesn't know what to do with that either.

"but... you know. what about steve?" nancy's voice is soft now, and paired with her puppy dog eyes, eddie almost doesn't process what she says. "how'd you know with him?"

and if eddie thought he was stunned before, this takes the cake. a nervous laugh bubbles out of him, his face hot and heart pounding. his arms feel a bit like liquid and he doesn't know if he's even breathing anymore.

"nancy, i'm sorry but i think we're on two different wave lengths here." he needs to do something with his hands so he starts to fiddle with his lighter, flicking the zippo open and shut until the clink of the metal sounds too loud in the quiet room. "i don't.... love steve."

tears start to roll down her cheeks and yeah, eddie definitely messed up somewhere. she's wiping the drops away furiously like she's surprised they even dared to show up and she's biting her lip in a way that looks like it hurts.

"what are you talking about? of course you do." her eyebrows furrow which makes her look even angrier or disgusted and eddie feels like they're on a tightrope in his living room that's about to snap away from underneath them.

"well yeah, i... love him," he stutters over the words, "like i love you and rob and everyone. but not like... love love."

nancy's laugh sounds way too harsh for it to have come out of her. "are you sure? you stare at his ass more than i stare at robin's." she takes a deep breath, ignores the gasp of indignation that her statement gets out of eddie, and tilts her chin up like she's taking the high ground.

"i do not!"

"do too! and you're always looking for him when you walk into a room, like it doesn't matter if we're there, you only look for him. and you sit right next to him even if there's an open seat that's more comfortable. and you have this little, i don't know, tic when he smiles that makes you wiggle your fingers and you-"

"wheeler, you gotta stop."

"-always listen to him and he does all of that back for you and it's so obvious. i can't believe you didn't know you were in love with steve! you do everything that i do for robin and i'm in love with her so it must mean you're in love with steve and- holy shit i'm in love with robin."

the silence after nancy stops rings loud in his ears. honestly, he hadn't really given it any thought before but it makes sense.

the very idea of steve has his heart feeling a way it hasn't since he was nine and tracy nichols gave him a shiny rock on valentine's day. he does always look for steve when he enters a room, his very presence calming and dependable. he does sit next to him no matter what, their sides pressed together, heat radiating between them like a blanket. and god, when steve smiles, he does have to move his fingers, something to get out these jolts of energy that he feels licking through his veins.

steve is good and steve is a bit of an asshole but eddie likes that and suddenly the line between platonic and romantic seems to have vanished because holy shit, how did he live for the past year without spending every day loving steve harrington?

eddie reaches for the half rolled joint, licks at the paper to close it and lights up quickly. he holds the smoke in his lungs for probably too long but couldn't care less because he's now having a crisis of his own thanks to nancy.

"goddamnit," eddie hisses out as he exhales. "i'm in love with steve."

nancy looks smug, her arm extended as she waits for eddie to pass the joint to her before taking a hit. "that's what i'm saying."

"but i'm not... you know."

nancy rolls her eyes. "it's not going to bite you if you say it, eddie."

"i'm not gay."

the silence seems louder now as the paper on the joint sizzles. there's a dog somewhere in the park barking and he can hear his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

"neither am i." nancy responds quietly with a shrug of her shoulders. "but i am for robin. and you are for steve."

she passes the joint back over to eddie and stands up from the couch, wipes off imaginary crumbs from her pants like she didn't just turn eddie's world upside down.

"i think i'm gonna go. i have a lady to woo." nancy looks happy. it's a good look on her, one he doesn't see all that often what with everything that's happened to them in the past year. she deserves it, he thinks, happiness.

"let me know how it goes," he calls to her as she stops at the trailer door.

"i will." with a tilt of her head and a with a gleam in her eye, she gives eddie yet another look that he doesn't know if he wants to try and decipher. "you should call him."

eddie snorts and takes a hit, rolling his eyes as he stares up at the ceiling so he doesn't have to look at nancy's all knowing eyes. it isn't that he's scared to call steve, it's that he's terrified. petrified. what would he say? what would steve say? he just figured out that he loves him, he hasn't had time to prepare a whole speech to declare it and-

"eddie." nancy's voice is sharp but certain and part of him thinks that robin is a lucky woman to have nancy wheeler falling in love with her. "trust me. call him."

after she's gone, he finishes the joint. he sits in the silence of his trailer and pulls hit after hit of sticky smoke until it's down the end and burning his fingertips. he stares at the ceiling some more, contemplates what to say, how to say it, how to do anything without throwing up.

he wonders if wayne knows, if he saw what nancy saw, what he thinks of eddie falling in with a guy. he wonders if this will change everything. wonders if it'll change for better or worse. wonders if he'll have to skip town and change his name like he imagined doing after he was cleared of murder.

picking up the phone is easy, dialing is easier when he has steve's number memorized like the back of his hand.

"hello?" steve mutters like he's been roused out of sleep. his voice is scruffy and somehow soft and eddie knows he's going to throw up.

"steve."

"hey, man. is everything okay?"

and it makes eddie's heart flutter in a way that a generic question shouldn't but damn it, he's in love. he's allowed.

"yeah, yeah. everything's good i just-" eddie sighs, scrubs a hand down his face to stop from twirling the phone cord in his fingers. "do you wanna maybe come over? watch a movie or something?"

eddie can almost hear the smile in his voice when he breathes out a yes, thanking whatever higher powers there may be for nancy wheeler.

[httpkaulitz]

kiss me again

PAIRINGS: Tom 2010 x Female reader

CONTENT: Smut

SYNOPSIS: Tom isn't ready to give up on you.

WARNINGS: kissing, fingering (f reciving), public

A/N: I wrote this in the morning while waiting at the hospital so it's kind of shit

You regretted getting so dressed up as soon as you discovered that the bonfire party was actually a cheap imitation of your old school party.

Young drunks were scattered throughout the forest. Even though the place isn't exciting, the music isn't that good and you aren't excited at all. Peter was good company, you had managed to talk about all kinds of topics with him.

And to your surprise, you found yourself genuinely interested in getting to know him better. And he was being a good distraction after the fight you had with Tom.

You knew from the beginning that you two would never be more than friends, that was evident, he never wanted a relationship. He wasn't that kind of guy.

But you chose to delude yourself, you chose to believe that he could be different from what the media showed. Your mistake.

After a while of sitting just talking, he leaned over and kissed you. Soft lips enveloped you in a calm yet passionate rhythm and you couldn't help but compare it to Tom's kiss but still you walked away smiling.

"Wanna Dance?" He asked looking at the people moving to the rhythm of the music.

You laughed, realizing that he didn't like the party either, but that he was trying to enjoy it. "Sure." You responded, getting up and walking with him closer to the other people.

Within minutes, what was supposed to be just a dance turned into a fervent make-out session. Peter's lips seemed to travel all over your neck, returning to your mouth every now and then. Everything seemed wonderful, but it was as if something was missing. And as horrible as it was to admit, you knew that something was actually someone.

You were so caught up in your desires that you could feel his energy nearby. You could feel it. Damn it! You thought, opening your eyes. You watched the figure standing in a far corner on the other side of the fire. Even from afar, the imposing and intimidating posture could be seen. No matter how far away he was, you knew he was watching you.

Peter's hands still pass over your body, leaving gentle squeezes in strategic points. It was almost shameful that Tom's presence could make you more excited than Peter's caresses. You noticed him walking towards you.

"Would you get me a drink?" You asked in the most normal voice you could muster and slowly walked away from Peter.

"Of course, baby." He responded by kissing you before pulling away.

Walking away from people wasn't a good option, but it was better than risk being caught with Tom.

"You shouldn't be here." You said, still facing away. You didn't need to turn around to know that Tom was behind you.

Despite the soft, almost silent footsteps, you could feel him approaching. His presence was like a wave of energy that caressed your skin, leaving you hot and uncomfortable.

"Lately you've been telling me what I should or shouldn't do so many times, it seems a little possessive, don't you think?" He said, sounding confident again, unlike two days ago when you two had fought and you had left him alone.

You turned to look at him and felt your heart skip a beat. Black was definitely his color. He was almost mesmerizing using the coat and the black jeans.

"I thought I made it clear that we were done." You pointed at the two of you with discomfort written all over your face.

It wasn't like you two were ever together. You were never really in a relationship with Tom.

He smiled looking at his feet for a moment before looking back at you. "Don't act like you're not happy to see me." He said slowly walking closer to you.

You watched him expectantly, he was like a panther with soft steps and an engaging rhythm.

"Are you insinuating that I want everything that's happening?" You asked, letting out a giggle clearly mocking Tom.

"I'm not implying anything, I'm stating it." Pinning you against a nearby tree. You let out a squeak of surprise when you felt your back hit the rough surface.

"Admit it to yourself." He said, smiling mischievously when he noticed the panic in your eyes.

"Not here, Tom." You asked, knowing full well what his true intention was. It was like an engaging dance he used to seduce you, but you wouldn’t let it happen again.

"Then admit it." His hands went to your lower body, he gently caressed your skin just below your navel.

You bit back a moan and felt shivers run down your spine. It was shameful how quickly your body responded to Tom's touches.

"I wanted it when I thought we could have something serious, but now it's over!" You responded, trying hard not to let the doubtful tone show in your voice.

"Liar." He whispered hoarsely looking into your eyes.

His fingertips dug into your dark blue jeans and lightly rubbed the lacy material of your panties. You felt your hips jerk and heat instantly pooled between your legs. The suppressed moan finally came out muffled by the lips you insisted on keeping closed.

"That's right, silent. We don't want anyone to hear how loud you moan." Tom's hot breath hit your face. A mixture of alcohol and mint that was almost mesmerizing.

Unfastening the rest of the missing buttons, Tom skillfully moved the pink panties to the side. The moment he moved his fingers between your soaked folds, pressing two digits into your entrance, you gasped and began to move your hips forward to get every inch of his fingers inside you.

Tom smiled pressing his fingers even deeper and slowly moved his thumb to stroke your clit. You sighed audibly, your legs shaking and your head spinning. He continued to explore every inch of you, felt the walls around his fingers tighten in your orgasm.

You bit your lower lip to stop yourself from moaning and held Tom's shoulders tightly, seeking balance.

"It's hard when you really want to do something and you can't, isn't it?" He asked smiling, watching you closely, your mouth open and your eyebrows furrowed. "That's how I feel when you keep denying me what I want."

He sped up the movements of his fingers, holding your waist against the tree so you couldn't move.

"Tom... stop." You whispered in a moan, feeling your body burn with desire.

You wanted to be able to grab him, kiss him, even if it was wrong. Damn, this was all more than wrong, you were in a damn forest letting Tom touch you like that, even after saying he would never touch you again. None of this should be happening.

The skillful and insistent touch on your pussy made your legs increasingly tremble. You were ready to scream when you felt Tom lean in and silence you with a rough kiss that was quickly returned.

You sighed in frustration when he walked away, removing his hands from your pants and taking two steps back. Still dizzy, you wanted to scream at him for stopping you from reaching your second orgasm.

"What is it? You asked me to stop." Tom asked, smiling as he brought his fingers to his mouth. Your flavor was surprisingly delicious with a hint of citrus. Better than anything he's ever tasted before.

You heard Peter's voice next to you and saw him walking towards you.

Tom approached you again. "I hope your little friend makes you feel as good as I do." He whispered leaving a kiss on the back of your neck before pulling away.

You took a deep breath watching Tom walk away while Peter approached with a confused expression. You knew you had nowhere to run cause Tom wouldn’t let you go that easily and deep down you didn't want him to let you go.

[achilles-rage]

Oblivious

summary: you're a part of 50 squad, but with street being your best friend, you spend more time with 20 squad. after a rough day at work, street invites you out with the rest of the team. when tan and luca notice you talking to a man at the bar, they take matters into their own hands, knowing that you're both too dense to realize the other's feelings.

word count: 3.1k

request: @heypeople2 - hi! i’d love a friends to lovers fic with street where the reader is on mumford’s swat team, but is friends with all of street’s team and hangs out with them often. maybe two oblivious lovers? if that makes sense!

A/N: i had no idea where i was going with this at first, but i like how it turned out! enjoy<33

TW: none, allusion to smut, no use of y/n, plus size!reader, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

You still remember every single thing that happened on your first day with 50 squad; it was a stressful day, and you weren’t even supposed to go into the field that day because you had suffered a shoulder injury and were still a few days from being cleared for going out into the field. The universe had different plans, however, and both 50 squad and 20 squad were called to the same place. They needed all the people they could get, so you were quick to tell Rocker you could step in. He wasn’t going to let you, not wanting to go against protocol, but the situation was extremely important, so he finally agreed.

You had a group of hostages with you, trying to take them down to the main floor of the building and to safety, when you saw another SWAT agent fall into the hallway a few feet in front of you, who you now know was Street. It was almost a blur how fast you moved, quickly ushering the hostages into the room you were in front of and moving to cover him, taking down the two suspects that had managed to get the upper hand on him.

From that day on, he was smitten. He was impressed by your skill, of course, especially after he learned that you were still injured, but he also thought you were gorgeous. If it wasn’t an active shooter situation, he would’ve had the time to watch your plush body maneuver through the doorway and take down two targets, how strong your thick thighs looked, how your gear clung to your soft belly and chest. Instead, he noticed after all the shooters were taken into custody, when you came over to ask if he was okay in the sweetest voice he’s ever heard.

You had noticed how attractive he was too, his broad shoulders, his lean torso. When you went to make sure he was okay, you were asking out of concern, but also because you were curious about him. He immediately continued the conversation when he told you he was alright, wanting to know everything that he could about you, and the rest is history. The rest of 20 squad quickly picked up on this new friendship, noticing the way your eyes would find each other in a room when the other person isn’t looking, and the way you talk to each other. They also quickly realized how truly oblivious you two were, as it seemed that neither of you knew the other person’s feelings.

Now, over a year later, you and Street are best friends, and it’s because of this that you find yourself hanging out with 20 squad more often than 50 squad outside of work, although you still love everyone on your own team.

“Rough day, killer?” you hear from across the parking lot as you step out of the armoured vehicle, groaning softly as you feel the pain in your shoulder. It may have been over a year ago, but after an especially hard day of work, your shoulder still gives you some trouble. It’s nothing some painkillers and a heating pad can’t fix, but until you get home and get them, the dull ache remains.

“You have no idea.” Street chuckles at your response, taking in your figure. He notices the way you’re holding yourself, he’s seen it before, he knows your shoulder is giving you trouble.

“We just got back a few minutes ago, we’re all going to get drinks. A drink or two might help with that.” he tells you, a smirk on his face as you walk over to him, starting to take off your gear.

“Yeah, alright. But it’ll be an early night. Want to share an uber over there? I don’t want to leave my car there overnight.” You want nothing more than to go home and lay on the couch with a heating pad over your injury, but as soon as the option of spending more time with Street appears, you can’t help but say yes. He shakes his head at your words, scoffing.

“I can just take you on my bike. I’m not drinking tonight.” he tells you nonchalantly, trying to ignore the feeling in his chest as he imagines you pressed against him on the back of his bike. He imagines your thick thighs wrapped around him, your torso against his back, even though he knows he shouldn’t be thinking about his best friend like that.

You tense at his words, your breath catching in your throat. You’re imagining the exact same scenario as him, but you can’t help the slight insecurities that race through your brain at the image. Your soft body pressed against his. He’d be able to feel every curve of your body, even the ones you usually keep hidden, knowing that although you’ve grown used to them, and are beginning to like your body again, not everyone likes to see them. You also think of having to sit on the tiny seat of his motorcycle, him having to hold up the bike along with your added weight, and you can’t help the nerves twisting at your insides. Imagining how you’d look squeezed onto the back of his bike is something you really don’t want to have to think about, so you’re quick to respond.

“No, that’s okay. I don’t want to-” He cuts you off, shaking his head as he speaks.

“Don’t worry about it. You don’t need to be spending money on an uber when you can just ride with me.” he tells you, but a hopefulness breaks through his features, lighting up his eyes ever so slightly. You pick up on this, and let out a sigh, knowing he won’t let this go. Maybe you can do it just this once, and then tell him it was too scary and you never want to do it again, you think. Maybe then, he won’t ask again.

“Alright, fine. I’m just gonna take a quick shower and change. I’ll meet you out here in 15?” you tell him, smiling softly as he nods. You turn and quickly walk into the building, making your way to the locker room.

The nerves are taking over every inch of your body as you rinse off quickly, your brain going into overdrive as you think about having to ride on Street’s motorcycle. It’s a short distance to the bar you guys usually go to, but it’s still a decent amount of time to be pressed up against Street.

Once you’re showered and changed, you go out to the parking lot, letting out a shaky breath before you get close enough to Street for him to hear it. He notices the way you’re still holding your arm a little awkwardly, and he feels a little bad for inviting you out.

“You take some painkillers already?” he asks softly, worry spreading across his face as you shake your head.

“I ran out. I’ll have to get some on my way home.” He turns and reaches into his bag, taking out a bottle of the same meds he’s seen you use. He never told you, but he went out and bought some when he found out which ones you prefer. He knows how much your shoulder bothers you after rough days, and he wanted to make sure you never have to go without them should you run out.

Your eyes soften as he pulls them out, and you take them from his hands. You take one quickly, then hand them back to him, thanking him softly.

He hands you his spare helmet once he puts the pills back in his bag and gets on, holding a hand out for you to get on behind him.

Your ascent is a little awkward, but you finally manage to get on with his help, your cheeks hot as embarrassment fills your stomach.

He finally starts to drive and you put your arms around his waist tightly, feeling your breath pick up as he turns onto the road. You know he can sometimes be a crazy driver, but he seems to hold back today, perhaps picking up on your nerves.

Street has a hard time focusing on the road as he makes his way to the bar; having you pressed up against him so tight has him fighting every urge to drive right from work to his house and dragging you upstairs to bed. The way your arms are tightly wound around him also gets him a little riled up; how you’re putting so much trust into him. He makes sure to take it easy. If anything were to happen to you because of his driving, he doesn’t think he would ever recover.

When you finally make it to the bar and walk in, Tan and Luca are quick to look over at you two, their eyes immediately going to each other with raised eyebrows as they see the way Street’s hand is on your lower back, and the way you’re looking over at him with twinkling eyes. They’ve been trying to get you two together for months; and they feel like tonight is finally the night they can make it happen. You catch up with the rest of the squad for a few minutes, before you lean to whisper in Street’s ear that you’re going to go get a drink.

“You want me to come with you?” he asks over the music and chatter of the bar, but you shake your head, giving him a soft smile. You tell him you’ll just be a minute before you turn and walk over to the bar, waiting for the bartender to finish with another customer.

“That’s a nice bike you rode in on. What year is it?” you hear a voice beside you speak. You turn with a raised brow, looking up at a man who came into the bar just after you, seeing you getting off of Street’s motorcycle.

“Oh, um, I have no idea.” you tell him, giving him a small smile.

“It’s a nice one, your boyfriend hasn’t told you anything about it?” Your breath catches in your throat at the word boyfriend. You feel embarrassed, but also a sense of pride that he thinks you’re dating him. You shake your head, letting out a soft laugh.

“He’s not my boyfriend, and he doesn’t talk much about it to me.” you admit sheepishly. The man gives you an awkward smile, shrugging his shoulders.

“Oh, shit. I’m sorry, I just assumed-” he trails off, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. You give him an earnest smile, putting your hand on his arm as you tell him that it’s alright. You can sense he’s a little embarrassed, and that wasn’t your intention. It was an honest mistake.

You’re so focused on the man that you don’t notice that Luca and Tan’s eyes are glued on you the moment the man walks up to you. Smirks break out onto both of their faces as they watch, both of them having the same idea.

“Hey, Street. I think that guy’s trying to steal your girl away from you.” Luca teases Street as he motions over to you at the bar. Street turns in the direction Luca’s pointing at, about to tell him that he doesn’t have a girl, but his words fall short. He looks over just in time for you to give the man a smile as you place your hand on his arm, and he can feel the jealousy bubbling up inside him.

“Yeah, man. You should go get her, before he tries to take her home.” Tan chimes in, smirking as he sees Street’s fists clench at his sides and his jaw clenched. Street is seeing red at this point, imagining you going home with that man instead of him.

He marches over to you quickly, unaware that the rest of the squad’s conversations have died down, and they’re all now looking at the situation unfolding with smirks.

“Hey babe.” he purrs, wrapping his arms around your plush waist and resting his chin on your shoulder. He smirks at the man as he sees his brows furrow, feeling like he’s already won, but wanting to take it further.

“Uh, hey, Street. What’s up?” you ask, confusion laced in your voice as you turn your head to look at the side of his face. You’re used to his flirty tendencies, but this is definitely different than you’re used to.

“Just wanted to see if you were ready to go home.” he says in a low tone, kissing your neck softly. His eyes are trained on you, but he watches the man from the corner of his eye, his smirk widening as he sees the confused expression on the man's face and the way he takes a step back from you two.

“What are you talking abou-” You’re cut off by Street’s lips on yours, his hand coming up and using two fingers to tilt your head towards his. Your eyes widen in shock for a moment before you finally return the kiss, closing your eyes. He’s not sure what came over him at that moment. He’s wanted to do that since he met you, and watching you with another guy at a bar finally sent him over the edge. You pull back after a moment, turning back to the man, but realize he’s already walked away. You turn in Street’s arms, your eyebrows raised.

“What was that for?” you ask, your whole body feeling like it’s on fire, still reeling from the short kiss.

“He was flirting with you.” he states, as if that’s the only reason he needs. You laugh softly, shaking your head.

“He wasn’t flirting with me. He was asking about your bike.” It’s his turn to be confused. He stays silent for a moment, starting to think more clearly about what he just did. He kissed you, and you kissed him back, and you weren’t flirting with the man at the bar.

“Oh.” he says softly after a moment, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment. You giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck, his own still wrapped firmly around your waist despite his racing thoughts.

“Yeah, ‘oh.’ Why did you do that?” you ask, tilting your head to the side as you look up at him. You think you saw jealousy in his eyes as he approached, but you’re afraid that you’re just seeing what you want to see.

“I don’t know. I had to. I don’t want to see you with someone else.” he says, just loud enough for you to hear over the music. Your drink is long forgotten now as your heart seems to beat louder. Is he saying what you think he’s saying?

“Why not?” You match his volume, and he almost has to bend down to hear you. He can see the glimmer of hope in your eyes, and he thinks that since he’s already gotten this far, he should just tell you the truth.

“I want you all to myself.” he states, smirking as he sees your eyes widen. Your lips part slightly as you try to think of what to say. He’s your best friend, and as deep as your feelings are for him, you’ve never had trouble speaking to him until now.

His eyes search yours as he waits for your response, and he sees the way your lips are beginning to twitch up into a smile and the way your eyes flicker down to his lips for half a second, so he takes his chance.

His lips meet yours again in a soft kiss, and it takes everything in him not to push you against the bar and take you right there. One of his hands reaches up to your jaw, tilting your head up into the kiss, deepening it. He smiles against your lips as you let out a soft whimper, and his other hand moves to squeeze your hip softly.

Your mind is reeling as you kiss him, and you’re not even worried about the way his body is pressed against yours as you get lost in the kiss. It’s not until you hear a loud clinking of a group cheersing their drinks that you pull back, breathing heavily. You have matching grins on your face as you stare into each other's eyes. Street’s eyes dart around the room before they land back on you. He leans in and whispers in your ear.

“You want to get out of here?” You bite your lip as you nod, neither of you even bothering to say goodbye to the squad as you make your way to the door.

The team have been watching the whole time, and they all fight back cheers as they finally see you two give in to one another. Chris chuckles as she watches you two leave, nudging Tan’s shoulder as she speaks.

“Finally. I was beginning to think your ideas were trash.” she teases him, which makes him shrug with a smile.

“They’re both idiots, but they’re perfect for each other, I guess.” The rest of the team agrees with Tan, and their conversations slowly move away from you two to other things, but none of them can wait to tease you two tomorrow.

When you get back to Street’s apartment, he immediately pushes you against the wall, his hands moving to your face as his lips meet yours in a searing kiss. You put your hands on his chest as he slots his knee between your legs, making your whimper softly.

“God, you’re gorgeous.” he murmurs against your lips, hands going down and clawing at the hem of your shirt, desperate to see all of you.

You smile against his lips, raising your arms as he pulls your shirt over your head. His lips are back on your in an instant, trailing down your neck to your chest. He nips and sucks at the exposed parts of your chest, and you tilt your head back to give him more access, one hand traveling to the back of his head.

“Please.” you manage to get out through pants, and that’s all he needs to haphazardly guide you down the hall to his bedroom. You bump into a few things on the way, but as soon as he has you sprawled out on his bed, everything else in the world is forgotten.

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[dean-a-mean-tae]

Take A Rest

Request

PAIRINGS: Poly SKZ x Gender Neutral Reader WARNINGS: Shitty managers and fans. Mention of a creepy band member. Lack of communication which leads to last minute solutions. Male reader requested but I don't think there's any reference to the reader's gender. I think that's it.

Everything had gone to shit. The venue, missing band members, last-minute replacements, and a ton of other issues. All of them were swept under the rug by your manager, Tony, until the day of the concert.

The venue didn't have enough seats. The replacements for your missing band members didn't know the songs. Your lead guitarist and drummer weren't there. Tony decided he didn't want to tell you that the props were broken.

Your drummer got sick after being overwhelmed with stress from practice and her finals. Your lead guitarist said something about having a baby, but you knew that was a lie. That man has been a creepy virgin since you've known him.

Some fans didn't understand the stress you were under. With a recent flux in fans, the demand for a full album instead of songs was higher than ever. And with love comes hate. 

No matter what you did. More music, less music, or different genres of music. Everyone still felt the need to put their 2¢ in where it wasn't needed.

Fortunately, those who attended the concert were understanding of the current situation. None of the issues happening were under your control.

"Remember when I told you all that communication is the key to almost everything?" 

The crowd's screams of agreement echoed in your ears. Every outro on a video, a concert, a fan sign, or other event you exit with a similar speech and farewell; a signature in your fanbase. 

"It appears my manager didn't listen and failed to communicate," You sighed in disappointment. The crowd's mummers of irritation quiet down when you raise your hand to continue. "Nothing is prepared. And I know you paid money to see me and the guys perform."

"This time the concert will be a bit like a fan event-" You wave at those sitting closer to the stage and they scream greetings back. "When we reschedule a concert for you guys, and I'll make sure they do, you can see me perform." 

"How's that sound?" Your grin is showcased on the big screens behind you. Everyone cheers and the impromptu fan event begins.

With a sigh of relief, you walked off stage with the sound of people laughing and cheering ringing in your ears. Your manager was talking with one of the staff, waving his arm around as he shouted at them. With a tearful nod, the staff member left and disappeared into one of the rooms.

Tony followed the girl with his eyes before turning to look at your approaching figure. He glared at you from behind his iPad. "What's wrong?"

"What isn't wrong?" You scoffed, moving past him and into your dressing room. 

You're greeted by your boyfriends scattered around the room. Hyunjin, Felix, and Changbin sit on the couch watching edits of you in your recent music video. Jisung chases Jeongin around the room, narrowly avoiding Seungmin and Minho from their spots on the floor.

Chris is the only one who stands from his spot in your chair to greet you. He catches you as you flop into his arms. Before Chris can speak, your manager busts in and calls you back out.

"Since you want to give away free tickets, you can help schedule them into another concert," Tony grins, a malicious glint in his eyes. 

You need to nap and then find a new manager.

Even in bed, your shoulders were tense and your brain was in overdrive. Thinking of the damage last night's not-concert has, and will, cause. Helping your team to comb through each person who attended the event so you could squeeze them into another concert at a later date. The scolding your manager gave you wasn't helpful.

Tangled in the sheets and limbs belonging to your lovers, their scents pressed into the covers. You were warm and so very, very tired with a sprinkle of guilt seeping in. This was supposed to feel nice. It was supposed to help ease you. 

But why couldn't you relax?

"When are you going to let someone take care of you?" Chris asked, wrapping the curls on Y/N's head in a scarf and bonnet. "It doesn't have to be one of us or someone we know."

"Just let someone in." Hyunjin's hands were warm against Y/N's cold face. His plump lips press butterfly kisses against your eyelids, forehead, and temples.

With Changbin and Hyunjin calling dibs on your sides and Chris laying you between his legs, so your head pressed against his stomach. You're pretty sure Seungmin is asleep, curled onto your legs with his hands gripping your calf. 

Jeongin is sprawled behind Hyunjin with his arm over Hyunjin, and hand on your chest, over your heart. 

Felix and Jisung were somewhere in the dorm causing chaos in the kitchen with Minho supervising. You could hear Jisung yelling at the pots for burning him, Felix's laugh, and Minho shouting about melted plastic.

You'll probably have to clean the kitchen at some point.

"For once, just relax and let someone care for you. Please," Changbin whispered with arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

"Don't hog him," Jeongin whined, pulling you back into his and Hyunjin's arms. 

Changbin grumbled as he yanked you back giving a chain reaction of Hyunjin and Jeongin pulling you and Changbin fighting for you to stay in his arms. Poor Chris with him latched onto you, he was tugged in every direction with you.

So, this is what the rope felt like in tug-of-war.

"You need to go to bed," Minho's voice comes from the doorway and everyone's heads turn in sync. He stands in the doorway with his hands on his hips, Jisung and Felix peeking around his shoulders.

"Who?" You ask.

"All of us," Minho answers, carefully curling up in an empty spot on the bed. 

Minho's attempts not to wake the sleeping boy are futile as Jisung dives onto the bed. He sandwiches himself between Changbin and your side, scaring Seungmin awake. He grumbles as he adjusts himself and falls back asleep.

Felix lingers at the end of the bed, looking for a spot to sleep. The moon shines on his milky skin and his eyes reflect the light. You turn so your back presses against Chan's chest, and Seungmin huffs as he turns away from you and tucks his face into Minho's neck. Felix was lying atop you amidst the commotion.

"Go to sleep, Y/N."

You hum, your eyes slipping close. It's warm. It's peaceful.

©��DEANAMEANTAE2024

[dragon-kazansky]

The song in our hearts

Lestat De Lioncourt x Female Reader

A musician with a heart that sings and an admirer who wishes to see his songbird thrive. Two beings in different worlds get caught up in each other when someone threatens to steal his songbird's spotlight. Loving Lestat isn't simple, and your life will never be the same again. What is eternity without chaos?

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Chapter Eight - Deep into the hole

“I can't believe this is happening. What do you think happened to him?” Amelie asks, looking more than a little worked up.

“I really don't know…” You lie. It feels awful lying to her, but telling her the truth would be far worse. Why did you ever have to cross paths with Lestat?

“I can't believe it.” She says again.

You focus on making the coffee. There was very little chance of you getting any sleep right now anyway. You pour two cups and hand one to Amelie. She takes it with a soft ‘thank you.’

“You know… you were the last person I saw him with…”

You look at her. “Please tell me you're not accusing me of anything. Amelie, I don't know where he is.” 

“I know. I was just saying…” The tone of her voice leaves you a little unconvinced. There's doubt lingering in your mind and for the first time ever you're left wondering who your real friends might be.

“I'm a lot of things, but a murderer ain't one.”

Amelie seems to realize how her words had sounded and moves closer to you. She reaches out for your hand and sighs loudly. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything. I've just been thinking too much.”

“I know. I'm sorry. Please don't let whatever is happening come between us. You're one of the few people I have.”

Amelie puts down her coffee so she can hug you. You return the gesture, but doubt is still eating away at your mind.

‘Come to me, Chéri.’

You hear him in your head. He was probably disappointed you had left. You needed time to think before you went back. There was too much going on.

You wake suddenly. Light is illuminating your room through your curtains. Amelie is fast asleep on your couch and you're curled up in a chair beside her. Two forgotten cups of coffee sit on the table.

Your head pounds as you get up out of the chair. You take a few moments to gather yourself and then start cleaning up. Amelie only stirs after you start filling the sink with water to wash up with.

“What time is it?” She asks, stretching.

“Noon.”

“Oh no! I'm supposed to be at the theater to answer questions about Noah. Damn it. I have to go.” She scrambles to get up.

“Wait a minute.” You wipe your hands and walk over to her. “What do you mean?”

“The police were going to go back to the theater today to ask questions. I promised Jack I'd be there.”

You feel an uneasy feeling in your body. “I'll take you.”

Arriving at the theater, you only see one police car parked outside. It gives you a feeling of dread as you look at it. Amelie leads the way inside.

All the performers are gathered in the lobby. They're all talking amongst each other. Through the commotion you can see Jack talking to two officers. After a few moments he turns to everyone and steps up on a chair.

“Quiet!”

Everyone falls silent. Jack turns to the officers. The tallest of the two steps forward. “We're here to enquire about Noah. It would seem his disappearance holds more questions than answers. One by one we're going to take you into the theater and ask you questions. If anyone knows anything about where he may be, dead or alive, please come forward.”

It feels like it gets harder to breathe.

The shorter officer steps forward and calls the first name. While they go inside, the rest of the crew all begin talking again. They're all trying to figure out what's happening. Jack gets bombarded with questions.

You take a seat on one of the small couches in the lobby. Amelie turns and looks at you quietly. She walks over and takes a seat beside you. “You okay?” 

“Yeah, just… can't believe this is happening. Do they really think something happened to Noah?”

“His sister certainly thinks so. She went to his place and all his stuff was still there, but the door was locked. Reckon he was taken or something before he even got home.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Was Lestat even going to do anything about all of this? He knows what's happening. He surely knows how much trouble you're in. Then again, can the police even connect you with Noah's disappearance. No one actually saw you with him alone. Lestat came in quick at the time and took him just as fast.

There's no evidence you were with him after the show.

One by one more performers were called into the theater. The ones who have been questioned already get asked to leave immediately. You watch each of them head on home.

Jack comes over to you after half the lobby is empty. He sees you with Amelie.

“I didn't realize you were. You don't need to be here.”

You look up at him. “Don't they want to question everyone?”

“Yes, but you're clear.”

You furrow your brows at him. “What do you mean I'm clear?”

“I already told the police that after the incident on stage, you left and Noah came to me. You were gone before the end of the show.”

“What?”

“Noah came to talk to me after you left the stage that night. I don't know where he went after, but when I came to your room, you were already gone.”

Jack doesn't know about the brief altercation in your dressing room. It really did happen too quickly for anyone to notice.

“Oh, I see.”

Jack places a hand on your shoulder in support. “You look tired. Go home.”

“No, let me stay.”

The short officer comes out to call for the next person when he sees you and Jack. He walks over and checks his list. “You're the pianist.”

“That's right.”

“Jack has already cleared up your whereabouts, but may we ask you some questions?”

Jack goes to interfere, but you're faster. “Of course. I'll come with you now.”

Jack looks at you with a column expression and watches you go with the officer.

Amelie looks up at him. “She'll be fine. She always is.”

“I know.”

Inside the theater you make your way to where the tall officer is. He's writing some things down. As you approach he looks up.

“This is the pianist Jack mentioned,” the other officer said.

“Oh. Wasn't expecting you here today.”

“I want to help if I can.” You tell him.

He nods. “I'm officer Michaels. That's officer Jackson. Take a seat, ma'am.”

You sit down beside him.

“Did you know Noah?” He asks.

“Not very well. He came to the theater to perform. Jack had suggested we do a duet, but I declined.”

“Yes, I heard as much. May we ask why?”

“I perform alone. I play solo.”

Michaels nods and makes a note of that. He looks at you again. “What happened that night?”

“I was performing. Same as I do every Friday. I was only just into my first song when Noah stormed the stage singing his heart out. I was furious, but only because he ruined my music. Not that he was a bad singer, just that I like my music to speak without the need for words.”

Michaels nods again. “Then what happened?”

Lestat happened. But you can't tell him that.

“I left the stage, ending my performance early. I was not in much mood to be made a fool of. I retreated to my dressing room to gather my things.”

“And then?”

“I went home. I was too embarrassed and furious to talk to anyone. I was gone before the show was over. Didn't even say bye to Jack.”

It wasn't a complete lie. It wasn't the whole truth either.

“I see. Jack said as much. He spoke to Noah briefly and then went to check on you after he had the next performer on stage. Your dressing room was empty. No sign of Noah either. You did not leave with him that night?”

“Not at all.”

Michaels makes a note. “Understood. Thank you for your time, ma'am.”

You nod and rise from the seat. However, before you get too far, you turn. “May I ask, what do you think happened to him?”

“I can't say for certain, but it is likely he disappeared after leaving the theater, but before reaching his home. Rest assured, We will find our answers.”

You nod and leave quietly.

By the time you're leaving the theater, Amelie is going in for questioning. You don't stop to talk to anyone, just like the others did before you. You're on your way home when someone comes up beside you.

“Hey there.”

You turn and see Eleanor has joined you. You had just wanted to go home.

“Hello.”

“May I join you for a moment?” She asks kindly.

“Sure.”

You walk in silence for a few moments before she talks. “My brother wrote about you in his letter to me.”

“He did?” You ask, almost worried about what he had said. You felt too involved in something you didn't actually do.

“He said he had the most beautiful piano piece he had ever heard in his life. He had said to me that he was going to sing to that piano one day.”

You look at her. “He really wanted that?”

“Yes. My brother is an admirer of the arts. Music is his passion.” She smiles. “He used to sing to me all the time.

“I see…”

“It's a shame I didn't get to see him sing with you. You'd make a good pair.”

Her comment makes you feel rather sick. You can feel your stomach turning as you walk. You just wanted to go home and disappear for a few days.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just… tired.”

She seems to fall for your lie and loops her arm around yours. “Let me walk you home.”

You decide to just let her.

As you walk you drift away with your thoughts. It's still day, so Lestat will be asleep. Should you go visit him at nightfall? Should you just leave him be? Lestat seems like more trouble than he's worth.

Yet, the way he looks at you. The way he held you in his arms and kissed you. You can't deny your attraction to him. Lestat was like a drug you couldn't get enough of. You wanted to see him again.

Though he is still the reason this whole mess has happened.

You were confused on what to do.

Before you know it you're standing on your doorstep. Eleanor lets go of your arm and smiles kindly at you.

“Take care.”

You find yourself smiling softly. “I'll try.”

She walks away slowly, clearly lost in her own thoughts. You can't help watching her go. She shouldn't have come here. Everything would have been fine had she simply not come here.

Too late to do anything about it now.

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[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Erin/Julius; cosmic vertigo

For the prompt: More Erin and Julius understanding each other on a deep level

“Have you ever thought about the universe?” Julius says.

“I get a headache whenever I do, so I mostly try to avoid it,” Erin says, then, feeling Julius’ eyes on her, “Yeah, I guess. You’ve got to narrow it down a little from ‘literally everything in existence’ for me to figure out what you're getting at, though.”

“How things — change, I guess,” Julius says. “How if something went just a little differently, your life could be completely different too.”

“So like alternate universes,” Erin says, relieved. That’s much less likely to give her a headache. Not unlikely, but thinking about what, exactly, exists past forever? What a constantly expanding universe is expanding into? The last time Erin let herself think about it too long she ended up with a migraine. Possibly a coincidence, but she’s not risking it. That thing lasted two days.

“Yes,” Julius says. “If I was drafted one pick higher, or lower, I would never have come to Edmonton.”

“And you wouldn’t have met Jared, and therefore me, and neither of us would be lying in this bed right now talking about the universe,” Erin says. “Something like that?”

“Something like that,” Julius echoes, then gazes at her for a long moment, not speaking.

“Stop measuring how good a consolation prize I am,” Erin says. Doesn’t matter how great he thinks she is: nobody’s great enough to make up for the pain and suffering of playing for the Edmonton Oilers.

Julius’ mouth quirks, like she’s said it out loud.

“You’re alright,” he says.

“Thanks,” Erin says. “I do my best.”

“Worth coming here,” Julius says.

“Let’s not get too crazy here,” Erin says.

Under the covers, Julius finds where she’s laced her hands on her stomach and prises the nearest away so he can lace his own fingers through it, that hand thief. She likes to sleep like she’s in a coffin and he knows that. Still, she supposes she can lend it to him for a little while.

“Feeling philosophical tonight, are we?” Erin asks.

She doesn’t have to ask why: he’s going back to Finland in two days. Only for a month, before he flies back to Alberta to train with Jared and his buds in Calgary. She doesn’t have to ask why for that either. Dude isn’t going to train in a city he’s never even lived in, a city that hates his guts, just because he misses her brother, though she’s sure Jared would argue otherwise. She won’t make him say it.

“I can come,” Erin says. “If you want me to. I can come.”

Julius blows out a breath. “Next time,” he says.

“Sure,” Erin says. “It’s not — it doesn’t expire or anything. Standing offer. I mean, unless I have something else going on. Then you’re shit out of luck.”

“I will make sure your schedule is clear,” Julius says.

“Thanks,” Erin says. “Thoughtful of you.”

“Would you like your hand back?” Julius says. Erin doesn’t think she’s imagining the reluctance. A month’s not really a long time if the universe is your scale, but if it isn’t, well. It’s long enough.

“That’s okay,” Erin says. “You can have it a bit longer.”

*

So the thing is, when Erin told Julius she’d go to Finland with him, well — it isn’t that she didn’t mean it, because she did, it’s just that she sort of figured that at some point between her saying that and him taking her up on it, she might just spontaneously get past her fear of flying.

Except, fear is such a strong word, isn’t it? She’s fine. She’s been on planes without dying. She even hopped on a plane to see the Canucks host the Oilers — would someone with a lifelong fear of planes do that?

And yeah, sure, it was only ninety minutes, and by the time she quit telling herself that they probably weren't all going to die — but if they did, they better not fuck up and identify her as Bryce’s girlfriend in all the death announcements — they’d pretty much already begun the descent.

Then, once she was done a new recital of how they probably weren't to die — at least they’d better not, because Bryce would feel so guilty about inviting her — they were taxiing to the gate.

And while, like, statistically, that was one of the most dangerous times, like how parking lots and the kilometre around your house are the places you’re most likely to get into an accident, it’s hard to work up the same panic when you’re like, twenty feet in the air instead of twenty thousand.

The flight back wasn’t too bad either, and by the end of the trip, she thought she might have even gotten over that whole fear of flying thing.

She was incorrect.

The thing is, she actually did okay on the flight to Toronto. It helped that it was first thing in the morning, and apparently sleepiness beats out panic, a fact she’s going to be taking advantage of in the future. She genuinely thought she'd reached the other side of it, but the flight to Amsterdam has quickly proven her wrong.

Planes aren’t supposed to shake. And dip! She swears they started to drop out of the sky at one point. Julius said that it was a normal amount of turbulence, but frankly, no turbulence is normal, is it? Sure, it can be a typical amount of turbulence, but normal? They’re in a metal tube in the sky, being thrown around by wind. Erin does not consider any of that to be normal.

“You didn’t tell me you don’t like flying,” Julius says, so quietly Erin can hardly hear him over the almost deafening plane sound nobody else seems to be bothered by. Erin thinks that’s pretty big of him, considering she’s had his hand in a death grip since the turbulence began, and she hasn’t relinquished it even now that it’s finally stopped. In his shoes, she’d probably be going with ‘you know these hands make millions, right?’.

Money that means she’s flying in comfort, if not…comfort. For some reason, Erin thought it’d be easier to deal with things in business class. She doesn’t know why — in a plane crash, the front of the plane is the least likely to survive. But hey, at least Erin got free champagne.

The champagne didn’t help. She hadn’t really thought it would, but she’d been hoping.

“Oh, I don’t know if I’d say I don’t like it,” Erin says. It comes out in a voice she's never heard in her entire life, so perky it’s almost shrill.

“Something stronger?” Julius asks, looking about as disturbed by Stepford Erin as she is. She doesn’t know if he’s talking about the word she’d use or the next drink she should have, but either way the answer's probably yes.

“Do you want your hand back?” Erin asks. It’s not so much an offer as a genuine question, because she’s not sure her hand will unclench for long enough to release it, and she’d probably grab it again the next time the plane started rocking, though maybe she can figure something else out. Grab his thigh or something. It also makes him millions, but it can probably hold up to the abuse a little better.

“You can have it the entire flight if you need,” Julius says. “And for the others.”

Erin’s really, really been trying not to think about the fact there are more flights after this one. Plural.

“Might make it hard to eat,” Erin says. He has the window seat — no fucking way she wants to see just how high up they are, even though she already intellectually knows it — and she’s had custody of his right hand since take off.

“I can figure it out,” Julius says, stroking his thumb over her knuckles. It isn’t quite relaxing — nothing is, right now, not with that damn plane noise — but it’s, you know, not not relaxing, which makes it better than pretty much everything in the world at the moment. It makes Erin’s eyes prickle.

“I know it’s irrational,” Erin says. “I’m well aware of all the statistics, and that it’s safer than basically every kind of transportation. I know. It’s ridiculous. I'm being ridiculous.”

“We can drive,” Julius says. “When we get to Helsinki. We can drive instead. Or take the train.”

Erin tips her head back, trying to keep the tears from spilling. That still leaves Amsterdam to Helsinki, but one flight is better than two. “How long a drive is it?” Erin says.

“Does it matter?” Julius asks.

Erin shakes her head, and when they fall, she swipes at them with her free hand.

“We can drive,” Julius says, thumb tracing back and forth, and Erin focuses on it, the slow sweep of his skin against hers, until the flight attendant comes, asking if they’d like something to drink.

“Champagne,” Erin says. “Please.”

“Two,” Julius says, even though he didn’t even finish his first. “Please.”

“What are we celebrating?” the flight attendant chirps, and Erin stares up at her, unable to muster even a weak smile. Beside her, Julius must be pulling out the ‘dumb fucking question’ face he gives reporters, because the flight attendant says, bright and fake as Stepford Erin, “Two glasses of champagne,” then hurries on to the next seats.

“People,” Julius murmurs, and Erin slides down, twisting in her seat until she can put her head on his shoulder. Probably makes it harder than she needs to, since she refuses to give up Julius’ hand the entire time, but he doesn’t complain, just keeps up the slow sweep of his thumb, and when she finally makes herself comfortable — or, as comfortable as she can, considering the circumstances — he kisses her hair.

“Sorry about stealing your hand,” Erin says. She really hopes he doesn’t think it’s an offer to give it back, because he’ll be disappointed.

“That’s okay,” Julius says. “I don’t need it for my job or anything.”

Erin decides to hold on a little tighter, just for that.

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

The short adventure's of Bonten's no4: airport anarchy

Bonten x f reader

Warnings: Slight manga spoilers, suggestive content, Kakucho deserving the world

Summary: Y/N is Bonten's first female member, she's their skilled and deadly No4. So why can't she just go home!? Seriously guys it was a long trip, stop messing around!

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

Airport anarchy

"Thank you for flying with air Tokyo we hope you had a pleasant trip!"

Vaguely nodding at the flight attendant's you stretch your legs and prepare to leave the plane. Ah Tokyo, it's been a while. But working abroad and getting those international links for bonten was necessary. Not always easy but you got the job done and you know from your extensive phone calls and texts with the guys that Mikey was pleased with your work.

The guys. That was the other great thing about this trip, you got a bunch of time away from them! No crazy antics, no weird romances and definitely no conflicting feelings, a paradise. But unfortunately all good things must to come to an end and now you're back.

Yawning, you slowly shuffle through the airport, dodging and weaving through other tired travellers. You were offered a private plane for all your trips but preferred to stick with public first class for now, wanting a full break from all things bonten. And now you can't wait to just get to whatever car they sent to pick you up, get home and sleep. Dealing with seeing them again and all the work can wait for tomorrow. Glancing around you look for a driver with a sign but fail to find anything. You're about to call a taxi instead when you hear it, the worst thing you could possibly hear right now.

"Y/N WE'RE OVER HERE!!!!"

No.

No  no no no no no no. Please let that not be what you think that is. Not them, not now, don't let it be them. 

You walk faster, not turning around. Desperately trying to convince yourself that you're just tired of course they didn't come all the way out here to get you. They wouldn't do that.....right?

The next thing you know your arm is being grabbed and you're being pulled back into someone's tight embrace.

"We missed you so much".

"Ran stopping hogging her I want a turn!"

You find yourself being suddenly tugged into Rindou's grasp instead. Before Sanzu pulls you away into his waiting arms.

"Oh the fun we're going to have now you're back ♡".

Shivering lightly after hearing his words,  you don't expect to suddenly be pushed away from him. You stumble slightly before falling into Mikey's warm arms. He still smells the same, like taiyaki and treats and still hugs the same, tight and almost smothering, like he's afraid if he lets go he'll lose you. 

Nobody says anything for a few minutes, you just stand there being tightly hugged by Mikey as the three others watch. Mikey himself seems entirely unwilling to let you go, instead happy to just hold you close to him. 

"Hey Mikey....."

You trail off, not entirely sure what to say in this situation or what to do. You're about to try again when his voice interrupts your thoughts.

"You're home."

Humming, you reply "I'm home".

Maybe just maybe this isn't as bad as you previously thought, things might be different now or maybe you just imagined all the craziness from before. Things are finally looking up for you.

"What souvenirs did you bring me?"

"Huh!?"

Aaaand normal Mikey is back, nevermind those previous thoughts. Mentally panicking you wonder what to do, you didn't get any souvenirs! No one told you, you were supposed to do that! Nervously laughing it off you just reply that they're definitely in your suitcase, totally there and that you'll give them to him later.

Unfortunately for you, your boss is Sano Manjiro and when he says he wants something he gets it immediately. Mikey just stares at you and holds his hand out, clearly expecting you to hand over his souvenirs (that totally exist). You gulp, trying to figure out what to do here.

Meanwhile at the other end of the airport

"Are you sure this is the right way to her terminal?"

Koko complains for what feels like the 100th time as Takeomi firmly nods. Takeomi's been leading them in the completely wrong direction to the wrong end of the airport ever since they got here. Mochi follows along behind them dragging a gigantic banner he made saying "welcome back y/n". 

"Look i know where I'm going and this is definitely the correct way, just keep following me and we'll get to her in time to surprise her!"

"We better, i spent all of last night working on this banner, i hope she likes it".

Koko once again sighs, wondering why he had the bad luck to be stuck in the car with Takeomi driving. Surely Kakucho's car with all the others would've been the more efficient choice out of the two. He starts zoning out as they continue to walk through the crowded airport, instead choosing to think of you and how you'd look when he finally saw you again. Would you be happy to see him? Have you changed your look in any way while you've been gone? He can't wait to see you again. He won't admit it but he's been lonely without you. 

Mochi turns around, sensing something had changed and then shouts ahead to Takeomi when he realises they lost Koko. Takeomi groans but they both go back the way they had just came to find Koko just standing there, spacing out. 

"He's too slow, we'll never reach her in time. Even without the spacing out. Why did he choose to wear heels here!? Mochi, carry him"

"No way I'm carrying my banner, I'm not letting it go"

Takeomi pinches the bridge of his nose and groans again. Fuck it, if it means he can see you again faster then he'll just carry Koko himself. Throwing Koko over his shoulder and ignoring the man's complaints, they continue walking in the wrong direction throughout the airport with Mochi and his banner walking behind.

Back to the Mikey drama

You sit on an uncomfortable airport chair as you dig through your suitcase, looking for anything you could give to Mikey as a souvenir. Mikey sits next to you, just calmly watching and waiting as Sanzu, Rindou and Ran stand around the two of you, also eagerly waiting to see what you come up with.

You're starting to get desperate. A t shirt you bought for yourself? No way that would fit him. A pocket mirror? No he wouldn't be happy with that. Your hairbrush? No way. There really is nothing you can give him. You turn to Mikey, getting ready to start apologising. Instead he suddenly moves, impatiently going through your suitcase himself. He really wants his souvenir. You just watch him, unsure of what else to do.

Suddenly a grin appears on his face before it's quickly replaced with his usual neutral expression. 

"This is my souvenir"

You frown, trying to figure out what he's looking at. Mikey then happily pulls it out and holds it up for everyone to see. 

A pair of your panties. 

"Mikey!?"

He can't just take that right? That's definitely not a souvenir! And that's your favourite pair too! 

Mikey possessively holds them to his chest, repeating that they're his souvenir. He then quickly stuffs them into his pocket, completely claiming them as now belonging to him.

Damn. You're going to need to go shopping again after this.

"Heyyy y/n you brought souvenirs for us too right?" 

Ran grins down at you as Sanzu and Rindou waste no time in going through your suitcase and taking "souvenirs" of their own. There's not much you can do about it with Mikey watching but you still plan on taking revenge for this later.

Ran throws his arm around you, leaning in closer to quietly talk as the other's are preoccupied. 

"So why didn't you do the cute run and jump thing like they do in the movies huh?"

"What?"

You have no idea what Ran's going on about but whatever it is he seems lightly upset about it judging from the pout on his face.

"Come on you know it. The thing where once the lovers reunite one runs and jumps into the others arms and then gets spun around."

You look at Ran completely baffled, did he seriously want to do a movie trope with you? That's what's got him pouting? Because you didn't do it? 

"It's ok though because we can do it now"

"Huh?"

You suddenly find yourself being lifted from your seat, now being held by Ran. 

"Ran put me do-"

You don't get a chance to finish before he's spinning you around. All you can do is grip into his arms, hoping he doesn't accidentally drop you or fling you off somewhere. You're helpless as Ran happily spins you around, getting the reunion he'd been dreaming of. Ok....maybe it wasn't so bad. It was surprising at first and the fear element of being dropped is still there but in a way it is kind of fun. You don't even care when your shoe flies off and hits some guy in the head. Ran even manages to catch a glimpse of a small smile on your face before he puts you down. 

"See that wasn't so bad!"

"Never do that again".

You frown at him, trying to make your point clear but instead Ran just grins back at you, with that annoyingly charming smile. Well until Rindou practically shoves him out of the way.

"Hey did he make you sick? You feeling nauseous or something?"

Rindou sticks his hand out, feeling your forehead and then humming. He then shifts his posture slightly to look into your eyes. Staring at you deeply and making you gulp.

"Hey you're going all red, are you sure you're ok?"

Of course he doesn't seem to realise that he is the reason you're now turning red. You push him lightly to get some distance between the two of you before repeating that you're perfectly fine.

"Oh really? Hey we could check with this thermometer I found!"

Of course Sanzu picks that moment to join the conversation, proudly holding up the thermometer. You sigh and ask him where the hell he found that thing.

"Well me and Rindou got bored waiting for you to get off the plane so we went to the free bag carousel and took a bunch."

You stare at him completely baffled for a moment...

Free bag carousel? Surely he couldn't mean the baggage carousel? Surely they didn't just take a bunch of other people's stuff?

"Look these sunglasses are cool right?"

Sanzu and Rindou continue messing around with all the bags that you've only just noticed. 

Oh fuck.

You hurriedly tell the group that you all have to leave right now. You only just got back in the country, you're not going down for theft already. Urging them along, you grab Sanzu's wrist with one hand and are about to grab Rindou's with the other when Mikey snatches your hand instead, wanting to hold it. You sigh, fine it's not like you have time to argue this anyway. Hopefully Ran can make sure his brother moves along too. 

All five of you start speed walking towards the exit, just trying to get out of the airport before someone complains and security comes after you.

The door is in sight when you suddenly hear it.

"Hey you! Stop right there! Hey I'm talking to you!"

Not even glancing back, you all break into a sprint, running from security and the airport. 

"Where's the car!? Where's the car!?"

You frantically look around but can't see anything which looks like a typical bonten car. But with the security guys now right behind you all, you really don't have time for this. As you scramble around looking a shiny black car suddenly pulls up beside you all and you're suddenly being dragged into the car with the others.

"Hey y/n long time no see"

You breathe out a sigh of relief, it's just Takeomi driving, with Koko next to him and Mochi pulling everyone into the back with him.

Unfortunately theres definitely not enough seats so you end up stuck on Sanzu's lap. You try to ignore the wink he gives you. At least you're not Rindou who had to sit on his brother's lap.

Takeomi and Koko bicker for a second, something about Takeomi always being right with directions and "see i told you I'd get us to her". Before Mikey snaps at them to get going. Takeomi puts the car into gear and you all speed off, far away from the yelling security guards. Less then an hour back and you're already caught up in the chaos again. But at least you guys didn't forget anything.....

Bonus

Kakucho paces around the gift shop, eagerly looking for the right gift. It has to be perfect, something you'd adore and always think of him when looking at it. He'd already spent a long time looking at flowers, chocolates and stuffed animals before deciding against all of them. Kakucho was so caught up in his gift buying that he hadn't realised hours had already gone by. The sales people all watch him curiously as he continues picking up random items before shaking his head and putting them back. They wonder if he'll ever actually buy something. 

More time goes by before Kakucho finally lets out a triumphant shout. He found it. He settles on a bottle of perfume that he thinks you would like and makes his way to the check out.

As he leaves the store with a big grin on his face he fails to realise that you and the rest of bonten had already gone home ages ago, completely forgetting about him. 

Thanks for reading!!!!

Next chapter

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 30: Birthday

I have chosen violence with all of my promptober responses, this one is no different. That being said, hope you enjoy!

Word count: 1531

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

"Robots can't have birthdays, silly!"

You set down the box you're carrying, glancing up to Sun, "You don't think?"

"Of course not," He scolds, pulling out another strand of streamers to hang up, "We're not born, we're made!"

You pull a bag of balloons out of the box, "Yeah, but still, there was a point where you didn't exist, and now you do. I'd still consider that a birthday."

Sun seems to ponder your words for a moment, rays spinning idly.

You blow up a few balloons, watching as he puts his fingers under his chin, staring at the ground as he taps his foot in thought. It makes you giggle and lose the air in you'd built up in your balloon. 

He comes to a decision finally, nodding once as he looks back to you, "I suppose you're right! Though, I can't seem to recall when that would be, to be honest."

"Well, we could always pick a day," You get more supplies out of the box, there should be a staff bot stopping by with cake and pizza anytime now, "If you want."

You start organizing party supplies, counting out what party favors you have and may need to run and grab more of for prizes and such during games. The bot helping you has gone quiet, and you assume that the conversation is therefore over. That doesn't last, however. 

You feel Sun's presence before you see him, he bends down to your level, tone in awe, uncertain, "Really? You mean that?"

You nod. 

"Would, would today be alright? After, after the party, of course."

You smile, using both hands to cup his faceplate, "Of course," You kiss him softly, then pull away, "If that's what you'd like. Moon can pick his own day, if he wants."

Sun's rays spin rapidly, and he has to use his hand to stop them. He speaks dazed, "Today is fine, he said."

You chuckle, "Today it is, then."

You finish setting up for the party, and it goes off without a hitch. Sun, very excited at the prospect of celebrating his own 'birthday' only does the basics of cleaning up, leaving up the decorations and the likes to give them an additional use.

You order another cake from Chica's, and after some calculated thinking, manage to come up with a decent gift for him and Moon both. 

To Sun's disappointment, Moon gets to go first, as the cycle hits just right for it. 

"You know I can't eat cake, right Star?" Moon chuckles as he sits down across from you at the miniature table. You'd stuck a party hat on his head, and while it looked silly with his other hat, it simply had to be done.

You flick on the lighter, lighting the candles, "True, but you still get to make a wish! So let me sing and just sit there looking pretty, alright?"

"Alright," His tone is smooth but with the quiet noise of his fans you know the comment flustered him. 

You sing, and once you're finished, Moon blows out the candles by clapping once, the resulting air extinguishing them. You cheer and after smearing a bit of cake across his faceplate, hold out his gift. You found some stars and moons themed wrapping paper lying around, making for the perfect gift, even if you'd just come up with it during the previous party.

He finishes removing the frosting from his features, "You didn't have to get us a gift, you know. This was a 'last-minute' decision as you would say."

"Well, I would also say that it's your birthday, and I got you a gift," You hold up Sun's gift in your other hand, wrapped in red and yellow paper, "And Sun! I figured you would argue otherwise."

Moon snickers, taking his present from you, "You would be correct."

He takes a moment to shake it, but doesn't seem to figure out what it is. He then methodically unwraps it revealing a sketch book.

"You always talk about wanting to draw, but with being the naptime attendant not getting to so..." You trail off.

He hums, then laughs. Then, reaches over and takes your hand, pressing it to his smile, "It's wonderful, thank you."

You cough, face hot, "There's um, a couple little sketches in there of mine, to get you started. And a message. But don't look at it until you're alone! Okay?"

"I won't," He promises.

After that, Sun becomes very impatient, insisting on opening his present before blowing out his candles. 

You laugh as he all but snatches your gift to him from you, ripping it open in a rush, "You're supposed to make a wish first!"

"Wishes can wait, this is far more important!" He says, finally disposing of the last of the packaging. 

Inside awaits a music box, which he immediately starts winding the key to. Once wound, the box pops open, a small glass couple are revealed to be dancing to Pas de Deux, from the Nutcracker. 

Sun's stare is hyper focused on the box and its occupants, hardly moving an inch as the tune plays, and the couple spin round and round. When they finish, there's a click as a small compartment opens, you put your hand over Sun's before he can reach into it and grab the paper inside. 

"Ah, ah, that's for later, please," You glance up at him, slightly nervous, "What um, what do you think?"

His words are soft and full of adoration, "Oh Sunshine, I love it. It's so thoughtful! I didn't know you'd remember how much I like the song."

"Of course I would. I introduced you to it, didn't I?" You tease.

Something clicks for him then, "This is your music box. I, I can't have this, it belongs to you."

"Sun, I gave you both something that meant a lot to me, so much so that I want you to keep it as a way to think of me, yeah?"

His hands entwines with yours, nodding once, "Yeah."

"Good. Now, how about that wish, hm?"

He nods again, "Right! The best for last!"

You light the candles for a second time, and sing once more. However, when Sun goes to clap out the candles, one stubborn candle remains lit. He claps again, and again. A final large clap makes it go out, only to lit back up again. 

Your snickering becomes audible, and he catches on to what's happened. 

Sun gasps, "Starlight! You would pull a prank on me?"

You burst out laughing then as his scolding raises in volume, having to take several minutes to calm down again. 

The memory fades out as you sit down at your kitchen table, scootching your chair in after a moment. 

There's no one sitting across from you, there's no one else in your home. It's just you, a lighter, and some unlit candles sitting on a cake. 

You stare at the cake for a moment, then grab the lighter. One by one you light the candles. You'd considered adding a joke candle this year, but you don't think you have the heart for it. Maybe next year, you always tell yourself. 

On a nearby wall is your calendar, today's date circled. It's the one from that following year, you never could bring yourself to take it down and replace it, instead utilizing your phone and a calendar in your office instead. That one was much more subtle with its markings. Just a small note scribbled in the corner of the day's square. It made you feel guilty each year you wrote it down so unceremoniously.

It's relatively dark in your apartment, a singular light on over the sink. It makes the shadows caused by the candles that much larger, and the flames seem to burn that much brighter. You've never been a fan of fire. That only got worse after what happened. 

You're stalling, you know it. You'd better start before the wax starts dripping into the frosting and wastes a perfectly good cake. Not that you were very hungry anyway. 

You lick your lips, voice unsteady, "Ha-Happy birthday to you... Happy birthday to you..."

Tears start to well up and fall soon thereafter, your throat begins to tighten, but, you continue. 

"Happy, b-birth d-day dear-" Their faces flash through your mind once, but it's more than enough. A sob wracks through you and you have to stop singing. 

Your hands come up to your face, crying openly but embarrassed, even in the comfort of your own home. 

After a minute or so, you take a deep breath, collecting yourself. The candles are still burning. You owe them this.

You pick up after the point you left, to save yourself a little grief, "H-happy birthday t-t-to you..."

You wait another moment, your sniffling being the only noise in the quiet kitchen. Then, you blow them out, and you're left in half-hearted darkness. 

You wipe your eyes and sigh, "Happy birthday, boys. I love you."

You stare at the cake like it's somehow going to make them appear. Make the last several years disappear along with your heartache and grief like some bad dream.

It doesn't.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Man I am NOT treating you all nicely with these last few huh? Bah, you can handle it I'm sure, besides, we've got one more that I think you'll really enjoy. Or at least, I'm going to :) 

Promptober list is here, and if you'd like to check in on the Spoovember schedule you can find that here. Thanks for reading!!

[jiminrings]

defense chief jay min rings!!!! happy jungkook day :D ok now that's said.. ALIEN JUNGKOOK SNEAK PEEK. Now.

if-then aka alien jungkook au sneak peek :D

you're an alien in prince jungkook's planet — both literally and figuratively.

alternatively, jungkook gives his nickname for you to someone else in a fit of anger, and you've never been more upset. 

sneak peek 01

Heartbreak is a human emotion.

The weakness of the concept is disturbingly human and vulnerable. There’s no escape from it, even if the said percentage of human in your blood is barely half and could light a candle to your more evolved, far more powerful Twellian genes. It’s a sickening emotion to feel, much more have it get you carried away from what you have to do at hand.

The grip that said heartbreakhas on you is unimaginable, far more different than what your people, not humans, tell you how it’d feel like. There had already been an uproar when it was announced that you were appointed as Prince Jungkook’s guard, the news of an impure Twellian bearing the coveted position receiving every reaction possible — from fear, to distaste, and even to genuine amazement.

All of the kingdom’s advisers had theorized that despite you of being impure heritage, youwere superior in terms of physical capabilities. With everything else you’ve been theorized to lack at, you bite at the possibility that the ache in your chest is attributed to your stunted emotions.

You feel painfully human. You feel what heartbreak is, and compared to what others have made it out to be, it’s an emotion that you can’t put into words.

“You can’t, Jungkook,” you firmly say once more with your ears ringing, not because the volume of the club makes you want to get down on your knees, but because you’ve perhaps heard something far worse; far more grating, and far more overwhelming than what your heart could even bear. "All of your brothers specifically insisted for me to bring you back before midnight."

They say that your hearing’s supposed to be better. They say that you could see far more colors than what your alien counterpart could ever do. They say that for everything else you lacked, you made up for with the way you’re more physically advanced and therefore adept to protecting the planet’s youngest prince.

No one’s ever said that you’ll be safe from Jungkook himself.

"Jungkook, let's go home. Please," you plead through your teeth, the word you’ve last spoken being the latest term you’ve taught him. Jungkook, along with everyone else, is not familiar with begging; they’re not familiar with desperation so wrung out, there’s actually a word made just for it.

Jungkook only scowls at you, eyes turning a bright red as opposed to his usual pink allotted for you. "Butt out," he murmurs, tightly crossing his arms as his nostrils flare involuntarily. ”You promised me I could be out tonight."

You’re starting to get over the heartbreak little by little, the tantrum thrown by the young prince making you indifferent. 

Maybe you just misheard a few minutes ago — maybe, it was only a fluke and you didn’t hear it correctly the first time. Maybe it’s only your faulty impureness that made you susceptible to just hearing your nickname out of nowhere. Maybe, it’s not heartbreak that you were feeling, but rather only a subdued version of it by seeing Jungkook disappointed at you doing your job.

It’s your fault, you guess. Perhaps it’s the fault of the bustle of the club and the hundreds of dialects you could hear all at once finally got to you, overwhelming you to the point that you heard Jungkook calling for your name, despite not looking at you all.

You’re about to plead even more for the both of you to go back already; to save him from a lecture from all of his brothers and for you to be spared an even harsher scolding because they think you’ve gone too soft for him — but then you hear it. Again. 

Jungkook clenches his jaw tightly, eyes glowing a bright magenta before he opens his mouth.

"Come on, princess," he calls you by his term of endearment for you, yet his hand is outstretched for the female Twellian on his side.

He’s not calling you — he’s not even paying attention to you. Jungkook isn’t giving you a shred of his focus but he wants you to hear him call someone else the endearment he had playfully made up for you, to which you grew accustomed to without fail. He wants you to see how he gives it to someone else easily, the syllables falling from his tongue easily getting into the girl’s head.

Jungkook wants you to know how angry he is over you doing your job, he hits you where it hurts. He has no idea what heartbreak is supposed to feel like, but he doubts that you’d even feel that emotion over what he’s done — and if you actually do over something seemingly simple (for him atleast), he could only think that everyone else is exaggerating what it felt like.

Your heart, whatever is human of it, skips. It tightens and it loosens alarmingly so, almost as if you have no control for the liquid hurt that compromises you.

“I’ll show you a good time tonight, princess,” Jungkook whispers to her ear loudly for good measure, eyes darting up at you, only for him to see that you’ve been watching the whole time. 

You almost can’t tear your eyes away until Jungkook crashes his lips into hers, your nickname easily falling out of his lips as if the endearment is free for everyone; as if it’s never been yours in the first place and you only borrowed it out of desperation.

Your whole flight home is quiet.

Jungkook makes it back home before midnight, but you don’t.

.

.

sneak peek 02

Jungkook’s eyesight isn’t as good as yours.

Unlike you, he’s restrained by the entirety of his Twellian blood from immediately focusing his gaze on anything. There’s a lag that registers whenever he fixes his sight on anything, just like everyone else but you, and that hadn’t been a bother to Jungkook the whole time.

He had falsely assumed that since you’re the only one who’s different here, the only exception in the planet by being impure and partially human, you’d be the one who’ll have a hard time adjusting your daily life to his — not the other way around.

Jungkook, who had not once ever felt insecurity before, suddenly feels inferior. He feels like dirt and yet he’s angry, not because of the fact that he comes second to your abilities, but because he can’t do shit when it comes to you.

The prince’s eyesight isn’t good enough to notice the tiny little expressions that litter your face whenever something remotely intriguing happens to you. His hearing isn’t on par with yours because he can’t register the laugh in your voice as quickly as you could recognize his. He’s not on the same level as you and it’s only now that it bothers him—

The realization creeps into Jungkook, slowly yet unsettingly, when he sees the cut on your cheek; the liquor of inferiority, chased down by Jungkook’s own rage, only hits him the moment he sees that a nasty bruise is blossoming by the corner of your eye.

Jungkook grips your jaw lightly out of nowhere, making you look up at him unexpectedly when you had been only preoccupied with fixing him his drink. The prince, no matter the unmistakeable rage that’s brewing in red, is the softest he’s ever been when it comes to addressing you.

“Who hurt you?” 

He has all his attention on you and it’s almost sickening with the way he doesn’t want to break off. Jungkook’s hand is still on your jaw and his eyes are still fixed on yours and yet his mind, whatever remains rational of it and not just vengeful, is going a million miles per hour.

“Get your hands off me,” you spit, suddenly overwhelmed by his presence and the vitriol that spills out of him so clearly, the air around both of you shifts.

“I asked you a question,”Jungkook repeats, putting is hand on your wrist firmly instead. He makes the grave mistake of looking down, though, because as soon as he realizes that there’s blood caked underneath your nails and that your knuckles are stained with your own blood, Jungkook can no longer hold himself back. “Who. Hurt. You.”

Jungkook’s reflexes are slow, but the moment your bottom lip trembles in vulnerability and pure bitterness, he feels as if time has caught on to the point that it’s only your anguish that sharpens his senses.

His feelings, even.

“If I tell you, would it make a difference? If I’m considered weak, Jungkook, then that means you’re even weaker,” you scoff, eyes trained on the ground with your head low so you could muffle the tremble in your voice; not that it would make your prince any less attuned to you.

Jungkook’s eyes remain narrowed at you, breathing heavily as you only state the facts not to insult him, but to remind the both of you of your place — or whatever is left clear of it because Jungkook can’t even think straight the longer that he looks at you hurting.

“What, prince? What are you gonna do about it?” you spit as the last resort, standing up abruptly to storm off and make an escape for it just once so you’ll be free of the burden of being yourself in Jungkook’s existence, yet he doesn’t let you.

The grip that the prince has on your arm is unstable yet unyielding at the same time, as if it’s taking everything in Jungkook to remain standing despite wanting to hunch over by the unexplainable tremor that roots from his chest.

(It is taking everything in him.)

“Burn,” he utters. “I’ll burn everything.”

“You’re-…”

“Weaker than you? I know that,” Jungkook interrupts, his lips set in a straight line as he lets himself be swept by the current that is you. “All the more reason to do everything for you then.”

.

.

.

EEEEE it's finally here after some of u have been asking me for Literal Years (i'm not even joking u) for an alien fic :D to get ahead of questions, YESSS this is a general fic, meaning it will be posted here on tumblr this september 7th <3 but if u wanna read it now, along with a couple hundred exclusive pieces (get to know here), then head to my patreon :D

[moodymisty]

I saw your asks are open and SPRINTED over lol

Thoughts on AlphariusOmegon with a gender neutral reader with some semi-public, possessive voice kink? The Legion feels very Voyeur loving tbh which also brings up the thought of blindfolds or threesomes and -continues to talk for ten minutes-

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author’s note: I snorted this request like crack thank you for sending

Relationships: AlphariusOmegon/GN!Reader

Warnings: The slight implication of lewdness, Voice kink, Does the implication of getting spit roasted by primarchs need a warning? Probably

You look around, taking a glance at Guilliman, at Sanguinus, before shifting slightly.

They don’t often meet in one place. Particularly more than two at a time. According to Alpharius, it often ends in little more than petty arguments and fuming tempers. When you put a bunch of men with egos and armies to protect in one room, all the sudden said room no matter how massive feels significantly tighter.

Some of them have brought others with them, but most are Astartes of their respective legions, commanders and captains; You feel a bit like the odd one out. Being the only one outside the military structure of the legions- and the only baseline human besides some high lords and members of the Militarium, and the serfs, doesn’t help.

“Nervous?”

You look up at him, eyes wide. It’s Omegon, you can tell. You don’t know how you can tell, but it’s something in him that can tell you the difference. The twins find it interesting, you suppose. They've tried to figure out what it is multiple times, and you assume it's so they can put a halt to it.

Omegon leans down closer to you to talk quietly, but not closer enough yet to be into your personal space. It's a bit difficult given the significant height difference.

“I feel a bit out of place. And lacking in usefulness.” Omegon laughs and shifts in his armor, the ceramite plates clicking against each other.

“If you’re worried about being useful, perhaps you can you speak dog to the Fenrisian?” You glance to Russ from across the massive hall and cough as Omegon cracks a smile; Though it fades as he then glances over to Guilliman and his accompanying Ultramarines.

The two of you stand close to one of the many balconies, just between being inside and out. Omegon ushers you just a bit more to the outside, under the stars, but still watches the primarchs inside. You notice his keen gaze is still on Guilliman, even after more than a few moments pass.

“What?” You ask, hands twisting each other as you watch his eyes glance between Guilliman and his captains.

“They’re talking about you.”

You hold in your surprise, lest you get reprimanded by Omegon for giving anything away. Omegon is either reading their lips or can hear them somehow through the various chatter, and you notice one of his captains glance at you for a moment. You avoid locking eyes with him, and back slightly more onto the balcony and out of sight.

“They’ve never seen you before. They’re suspicious,” Omegon trails off, before continuing. “They’ve agreed you’re too well kempt and demure to be a militarium commissar or commander.” You suppose they aren't wrong, but it still feels a bit stifling to know you're the current topic of conversation for another Primarch.

Stepping closer to you Omegon takes a hand and brushes the side of your cheek, before pulling your chin up slightly to look more upward at him. His touch is gentle even in his armor, and you notice his eyes have softened as he looks down at you.

“I’m sure he’ll be upset he didn’t get to see you dressed like this.”

He’s referring to Alpharius; And to the beautiful teal accented clothing you currently have on. It matches The Twins armor near perfectly, as designed.

As while Omegon is hear playing the front-facing Alpharius, the actual one is off with their legion, working with their legion to establish more pockets of control outside of the knowing of the other primarchs. The twins don't trust any of them, and they want to make sure they have footholds that any of them can't kick out from under the Alpha Legion. You don't entirely blame them for such a mindset, given recent squabblings between multiple of the legions as of late.

Omegon leans closer to you, but given his height he quickly realizes he won't be able to get as close as he wants without kneeling. So instead, he simply picks you up at the waist and sits you on the railing of the golden balcony, just out of view of the other primarchs. Your legs dangle, knees just pressing against Omegon's waist armor. Shortly after he treads well into your personal space, his hands on either side of your hips; One grasping you to make absolutely sure you can't fall.

You watch him lean inward, his eyes gentle and hooded as his breath brushes over your skin, and he kisses your cheekbone. His lips feel surprisingly cool and once he pulls away, you can feel the ghost of the feeling left behind.

“Once he returns, we can both have our way with you.” He feels the way you instantly tense under his hand.

“Omegon…”

You say, reprimanding him in surprise at his sudden change in attitude as your face blooms hotter. His brow furrows in displeasure at you saying his name despite him currently playing as Alpharius, but he doesn't scold you for it.

The various other primarchs are still chatting among themselves, speaking with either each other or militarium commanders and high lords. Meanwhile Omegon and you stay alone. He spoke to Horus shortly a bit ago, Lorgar a bit too, but not much more after that.

His hand moves to your lower back, feeling the way you shiver under the sensitive feeling of him pressing on it. He forces your to lean forward closer to him, back straighter.

“They can look at you all they want, but you’re ours.”

Your lower stomach feels tight, neck hot, as you can swear you feel their hands on your body. It's a ghost of a feeling, an imagining of previous experiences, but it still feels so real. You swear he knows it's happening, that you're mind is half lost in a memory, as Omegon smirks at you knowingly.

"You seem lost in thought, did I remind you of something?"

You wonder how he knows you so well, to catch you like that.

Before he has a chance to take things any further, to seduce you further with implication and the deep, smooth tone of his voice, heavy footsteps approach your private balcony.

"Alpharius?"

Lorgar raises his eyebrows slightly as he takes sight of you both, mostly of you sitting on the balcony railing. Omegon stands close to you, but he pulled back to maintain a somewhat respectable distance before Lorgar caught sight of anything he shouldn't have.

"Ahh, Lorgar," Omegon steps away from you further, and you dangle precariously close to the edge, but Omegon's hand still stays close. "Forgive the unfortunate seeming position, I just find it easier to have a conversation without bending over so harshly to look them in the eye." Lorgar smiles and laughs, waving his hand to usher away any doubt.

"Oh no worries, I understand." His smile stays, as he continues. "But may I borrow you from your companion for a moment? I have something I wish to give you in private." Omegon has no reason to refuse, but raises one hand for a moment.

"Yes, just give me a moment and I'll with meet you shortly. Then I can promise you my full attention." Lorgar nods and walks off, his hands behind his back. Omegon turns back to you, and his gauntlet cups your jaw once more with that same gentle touch.

"I will be back once I finish with him." His large armored thumb brushes across your lips and pulls your bottom lip slightly, barely exposing your waterline.

"And once I am, we will return to the Alpha, and we will have our way with you."

Omegon sees the way your eyes widen and pupils dilate, and smirks before assisting you in putting your feet back on the ground, and then leaving you alone on the balcony.

[archivequinn]

MADNESS (Eddie Munson × AHS Asylum) Part I

Summary: Three years after his disappearance, Eddie Munson is arrested for the murder of Chrissy Cunningham, Fred Benson, Patrick McKinney and others, but the truth is very different. When he can't convince people that Vecna exists and that he is innocent, he is committed to a mental hospital. But the only way out is to prove to the psychiatrist that he is not crazy. If he cannot convince the psychiatrist, he will be executed as a murderer. And he must hurry to do so because Vecna has come to finish the job he left unfinished. As Eddie fights for his life, what is the most his psychiatrist can do to save him when she learns he is innocent? Perhaps the only reason his psychiatrist wants to save him is not because Eddie is innocent, but because the two of them have developed feelings for each other over time.

Warnings: It's inspired by the horror series American Horror Story, so it has a lot of horror elements. Mention of blood, hospital, electric chair, execution, injury, sex, nudity, (+18 please, MDNI) extremely depressive thoughts, depression, drugs, self-harm, suicidal thoughts and attempts, violence, smut, claustrophobic, dark moods. (please tell me if I have forgotten anything.) please DO NOT READ if at least one of these is a trigger for you.

1989, Eddie Munson's Perspective.

The police officer punched me once more in the face. I swallowed the blood that filled my mouth. My eyes were so swollen that I could only squint. The police officer took a handkerchief out of his pocket and started walking around the room. He wiped the blood off his hands in disgust. But it was my blood, not his.

"Do you hear that sound, Munson?" he said through clenched teeth. Then he continued, "That's the voice of the Hawkins people who would destroy you in two minutes if I gave you to them. They want justice. We will give them the justice they want.''

I swallowed the blood that filled my mouth again. "I didn't do anything," I said, barely breathing. He walked quickly towards me and kicked the chair I was sitting on. I groaned in pain as I hit the floor, the sound of the iron chair hitting the floor echoed around the room, like a banshee screaming. My hands and feet were handcuffed. That's why I couldn't move, the police officer was already kicking me from where I was lying. I heard the door creak open and a familiar voice came running towards us.

Hopper: "Stop it! For God's sake stop! What are you gonna do?! Are you going to kill him?! He's just a child!''

The police officer who stopped kicking me spat on me. He was pointing at me. "He's not a child. He's the devil himself.''

Hopper grabbed the police officer by the collar and threw him out. Then he helped me up off the floor. When he uncuffed me, I looked at my wrists, bruised. I could no longer figure out where it hurt the most.

I could hear chants and shouts from outside, "Die, Munson! You murderer! Give us the murderer! His punishment should be execution!"

Hopper: We're getting you out of here. In an hour.

I didn't look up. "Who reported me? Who told them where I was? God, how can they find me after all these years?''

Hopper shook his head in a negative way. "I don't know. This is beyond Hawkins now. The FBI is on the case. You're all over the national news. Newspaper stories are being printed about you from all over the world. There's a caravan of reporters and news stations outside the front door. You're going on trial for killing four people and putting one in a coma.''

I said loudly, "Four?! Jesus Christ! Vecna only killed three people and put Max in a coma. Who's the fourth?''

Hopper didn't seem to know what to do. He was as bewildered as I was. He rubbed his forehead with his hand. "Jason. They say it was you who killed him.''

I punched the table. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? All the deaths in this town are blamed on me?''

Hopper: They're looking for someone to pin it on so they can get rid of the backlog of cases they can't explain. There's no one to defend you right now. The lawyers are dropping the case. And that suits these filthy pigs.

I asked the question that had been on my mind all along, afraid of his response. "So what's going to happen to me now?

Hopper looked at the clock on his wrist and headed for the door. When he opened it, I was relieved to see it was Dustin, Steve, and Robin. For a second I thought it was that asshole again. My bones ached when Dustin ran up and hugged me. I probably had more than one fracture.

Dustin: Dude… They're sending you away. They're sending you to Bloomfield.

Eddie: Bloomfield? What, I'm going to Michigan? Do you guys know how far that is?!

Steve sat down at the table in front of me.

Steve: If you stay here, they'll kill you. Prosecutor Robert wants to execute you on this case and become a national hero. That's why he won't let the crowd kill you. You're going to a safe place.

I laughed sarcastically. "When I get to the prison there, they're going to put me in the electric chair and make me Eddie double cheese toast anyway.''

Robin smiled nervously, biting her lips. I knew that smile.

Robin: Yeah, about that… You're not going to prison.

I raised one eyebrow and looked at her to continue, but it was Steve who spoke.

Steve: You're going to a mental hospital, man. You're going to Chassell mental hospital.

I grabbed my face with both hands, i was laughing hysterically.

Hopper: We somehow convinced them that you committed these murders, but that you were mentally unstable. We told them that you kept saying it was some creature you made up in your head.

Eddie: Well, that's already true!

Hopper: Of course it's true, you shithead, but they don't know that, and when they do, that's what they'll tell you! We're saving your life! If they are not convinced you are crazy, they will execute you.

Again I asked a question I was afraid of the response, "What if they are convinced I'm crazy? Then what happens next?''

Everyone looked at each other.

Hopper: This time there will be a discussion about you staying there for life. They will appoint a highly skilled and experienced doctor to determine that. Don't make a mistake. Prove to the court that you are crazy. After the court receives the psychiatrist's report and orders you to stay in the hospital for life, we will come to get you. We will also find the asshole who reported you.

There was silence for a while.

Eddie: What about Vecna?

Robin: Nothing's happened in three years. I don't think it will happen after this time, but if it does, we'll be prepared.

Steve took something out of his pocket. It was a walkman. I took the tape out and looked at it and I saw the name Eddie Mix on it. Steve explained it before I asked.

Steve: I put your favorite metal songs on it, you know you might need it. You should guard this better than your life and keep it safe. Your life may depend on it. So if he comes hunting you…

Silence again. When I stood up, everyone straightened up.

Eddie: Okay, one last question. How do I pretend to be crazy when I'm not?

Hopper shrugged. I felt like I had just asked the easiest question in the world and I didn't even know it.

Hopper: Just tell them the truth. No need to lie.

I nodded my head in agreement. I handed my hands to Hopper to cuff them. That's what the people wanted. They wanted to see the murderer caught.

The camera flashes...

Chains wrapped around my feet...

The people booing and throwing things...

I got into the police car amid curses I didn't know which one to listen to. A long journey awaited me. I never thought that one day I would leave this town where I was born and raised like this. But one day I would come back here, exonerated, they would come to get me. I knew it.

I walked through the door of the hospital, whose gloomy atmosphere could be seen for miles around. The hospital was old and decrepit, with peeling paint and flickering fluorescent lights that cast an eerie glow on everything. The air smelled of antiseptic and decay, like something had died there a long time ago but never been properly disposed of. And in the distance, I could hear faint whispers and moans from the patients who were trapped inside.

It smelled disgusting inside. It was black and white, maybe gray. It was as if they were living in a movie from the fifties. There was no sign of life in their eyes, if there was a smell of despair, it would smell like this place. I wondered what to do in such a dull and boring place.

The people in blue clothes were patients. I could tell right away. The ones in white were nurses and the ones in white coats were doctors. I had been to enough churches to know that those in black were nuns. Of course, that was a long time ago. And then there were the guards. I noticed that they all had tasers in their pockets. None of them carried real guns.

The big hall was a vast, cavernous space with high ceilings and also peeling wallpaper. There were rows of metal chairs bolted to the floor, like something out of an old-fashioned movie theater. And in the center of the room stood a massive statue of some long-dead saint or martyr, its face twisted into an expression of agony.

A male nurse was accompanying me as I walked towards the guards. Since I was the only one dressed differently, even the patients noticed me. One of them pointed a pointing finger at me and laughed. You turn around and laugh at yourself, you jerk.

For a moment it occurred to me that if I stayed here I might actually go crazy. I turned to the nurse next to me.

Eddie. Eddie: Where are we going?

The corridors… well, they were narrow and dimly lit, with flickering fluorescent lights that cast strange shadows on the walls. I could hear footsteps echoing down them at odd hours - sometimes from other patients shuffling along in their slippers, but other times from things that didn't quite seem human.

Nurse: To get you a ward to sleep in and to get your patient clothes.

I laughed like I was teasing.

Eddie: Will I have a roommate?

The nurse gave a laugh that made it clear he was mocking me.

Nurse: Satan-worshipping assholes like you should be left alone.

As I walked through the dirty and narrow corridors, I wondered which doctor was my doctor. Meanwhile, the nurse continued to complain.

Nurse: I don't understand why they put you in ward A. You assholes belong in C ward.

I hadn't lost my cynical smile. "They must love me very much. They didn't want me to die.''

There were guards bringing a stretcher from across the hall. A white sheet was draped over the person lying on the stretcher. They carried the dying patient past me, emotionless and sullen.

The smile on my face was gone and the nurse was enjoying it.

Nurse: See, Munson? This is your only way out of here once you're in here.

We went into a big laundry room and there were big baskets of the same color blue clothes. Blue dresses for women and blue suits for men. They looked like pajamas. An orderly woman was sitting in front of the door, chewing gum and flipping through magazines.

I noticed that it hadn't stopped raining since the moment I arrived here. All the windows were barred. I wasn't supposed to be in jail, for fuck's sake.

The male nurse left me there. I went over to the person at the door.

Eddie: I was wondering if I could get a L size, I'd like to wear a little looser.

She didn't even look up. "Do you want a personal chauffeur or a cook? Go and get one of those clean ones over there that fits you. Don't bother me.''

I rolled my eyes.

Eddie: Is there a bag or a closet or something I can put my stuff in?

The woman looked at me and lowered her pointy secretary glasses down to the tip of her nose.

"You think this is a hotel, son? The only thing you take with you when you come in here is your body. We even take the wedding rings of the married people who stay here. Because even with that, they somehow find a way to commit suicide or kill someone else.''

I frowned, "How is this allowed? Don't the police do anything?"

The woman thought I was joking and laughed, but when she realized I was serious, she nodded carelessly.

"Most of the people who sleep here have no family or acquaintances. No one comes after them. We are happy to have another empty bed because there are too many patients and too few employees. Now a new psychiatrist will come for you. As if it wasn't enough that we took you."

She was waving a pen in my direction.

I put on the blue hospital gown and put my hair up.

The cell was small and cramped, a musty smell that made my nose wrinkle. There was a single metal bed frame in one corner of the room, with a thin mattress covered in stains and tears. A rusted toilet sat against one wall, barely functional and caked with grime. And next to it was a sink - more like a metal basin than an actual sink - where patients could wash their hands if they were lucky enough to have access to water.

The whole place felt suffocatingly claustrophobic, like there wasn't enough air to breathe properly. And when i looked closely at the walls or floorboards, i could see faint scratches or gouges from previous patients who had tried desperately to escape.

I lay down on the bed and looked out of the window with the bars. Then I stood up quickly. I made a few laps around the room, which was already three steps long. They had taken everything. They had taken my walkman too.

I heard the guard shouting from outside.

"It's almost nine o'clock! Lights out soon!''

anyone who wants a tag list for part 2 please let me know 🩶

my first language is not English so I apologize if I made any translation mistakes, please share with me my mistakes and your thoughts about the fic, I would be very happy. 🫶🏻