#glad I finally cross posted this one on here

[confiaenanaa]

Hello,how are you? I saw your post asking for fic ideas so here's one I hope you like it

Assistant reader who has worked with Eminem since the beginning of his career, the public and his kids love her, the kids always goes to her for advice and see her as part of the family . Marshall admires her and her relationship with his kids, He has always been attracted to her, but he respects her a lot and thinks she can find someone better, They are very close and know each other like no one else. They have fight a few times but she would always go to him and put some sense into his head and they would make up. Maybe she could have an accident or become very ill and end up in the hospital, he is terrified at the prospect of losing her. They get so stressed about the situation that they have a very serious fight, he says a lot of shit and she sends him away. A few days pass and they don't talk to each other, he didn't want to apologize and decided to wait until she came back and fix the things like she always did, but the things he said during the fight really hurt her and she decided to resign from her assistant position, she sent an email with the details of her contract termination.

You decide what happens next.

PS: I really loved your writing, sorry for the long request, I like to detail things, if you don't like the idea or don't feel comfortable writing this you can completely ignore it please.

Hugs and bye (⁠◠⁠‿⁠・⁠)⁠—⁠☆

my assistant - eminem

fem!y/n x Marshall Mathers

masterlist

synopsis: Y/N is Marshall's assistant. They're close and best friends until something goes wrong in her life...

A/N: hi! I know it's been a while, i've been super stressed with finals and stuff but i'm finally back on track and I wrote this. there's more to come since I have a ton of requests to have fun with! hope you enjoy this one. and i'm so glad to hear you liked my writing!

-Marsh!

-What?!

-Dre’s on the phone for you! Something about needing you to re-record something!

Marshall groaned from his office. Y/N giggled at his antics, he really could be a grump at times. She continued to put away files and work on his busy schedule, something she’d done every day for years. 

Y/N had been Marshall’s assistant since what felt like forever, and it sort of was. Ever since his career took off, she’d been by his side. She did her job well, and never gave anyone on the team any reason to doubt her abilities. Not to mention she was always the go-to for advice. Marshall was always asking for advice; situations big or small, his mind always went to call Y/N. And his kids did the same. And his friends. And his team. 

The public always wondered about their relationship, about what happened behind closed doors. “She and I are just close friends. That’s all.” And truthfully, that was all there was to it. They were friends. Though he’d often find himself wondering and daydreaming about what it’d feel like if they were more, he always stopped himself before it could get any deeper. He knew she deserved better. She was smart, kind, and hilarious. Surely, she’d find another man more attractive and muscular and smarter and funnier. Surely, she wouldn’t want a man like him. But, in actuality, they were both stuck in a cycle of feeling this way. She felt he deserved someone who related to him more. Someone prettier, someone more famous. Why would he want an accountant when he could easily have a bombshell? 

Everyone around them knew how they felt about each other, except, apparently, them. They knew each other inside and out. Marshall knew all of her nervous tics; like her lip biting, finger picking, leg bouncing, pen tapping, and arm crossing. And, in return, she knew all of his icks; loud chewing, gum popping, loud singing, loud speaking, fingernail tapping, and slurping. They could read one another like books, unless, of course, it came to romance. 

Y/N had been to enough family dinners at his house to know this. She was basically a Mathers herself. She became a Mathers when Hailie got her first period and Marshall had no clue on what to do. When she told him what to buy at the supermarket while she washed Hailie’s bed sheets and clothes. When she helped Hailie with her first breakup. And she became a Mathers when Marshall started his journey with sobriety and she was with him the whole time. Marshall admired her greatly. He admired her bravery and courage, her kindness and empathy, her ambition and perseverance, it seemed like everything life threw at her, she could easily push past it. He respected her a lot. He also respected how much a perfectionist she was. She made sure her nails were properly painted and if not they looked well groomed; cuticles always cut, nails long and strong, filed to perfection. Her hair was done meticulously, clearly also well taken care of. Her skin had a light glow to it. Marshall admired this for years. He admired and respected every aspect about her, she was like family to him. 

However, like friends and family do, there were always a few quarrels. When Y/N was on her period and already in a sour mood, and Marshall decided that would be a good day to be a brat and complain about everything. Y/N adored him, but he could be really childish at times. He whined one too many times and she’d snapped at him. It escalated into an argument that Dre had to promptly break up. Or when Marshall was upset because he had writer's block and Y/N asked if it was really that hard to write a song. He snapped at her too. But, in the end, they always made up. In all honesty, it was usually Y/N that would fix things. She’d go over to him and no matter who was right or wrong, she’d say it was silly and smack him upside the head for staying upset. 

The symptoms started mild. A bit of dizziness and fatigue. Walking up the stairs got harder, standing up suddenly quickly became a threat. Marshall and the others had noticed it, but decided not to mention anything. Health business is private business. Then, she started getting weaker. She was fatigued after just walking from the office back to her desk. She got pale. She no longer had that glow to her. Hailie asked Marshall what was wrong, but even he didn’t know. 

She was always short of breath. When she talked, she occasionally slurred her words. She’d stumble through the hallway, just trying to make it back to her desk. This went on for months. In the beginning, Marshall took the pallor and fatigue as stress and exhaustion from work. He no longer complained, instead taking on some of her duties in an attempt to alleviate her. He saw nothing changed, in fact, it only worsened. 

She started having heart palpitations. They became more frequent as the weeks flew by. When she’d hug her friends or set a hand down on someone’s arm, they’d notice that they were cold as ice. Her nails, something she once cared for, were now brittle. Her hair, once shiny and well put together, was now thinning and falling like a withering tree in the fall. 

Almost a year had passed since the symptoms started. It was a somewhat normal day in the studio. Y/N walked in with Marshall’s weekly schedule in hand. Today, the windows weren’t coated with curtains like they usually were. Today, Marshall saw Y/N in the natural light. He noticed how pale she’d become. How her hair was now messy and thinned. How she looked almost malnourished. 

He loved her the same, but he was concerned. He asked her to sit beside him on the couch, looking towards the others in the studio. Certainly the others had to have noticed her dire state. She sat carefully, moving slowly in an attempt to not exhaust herself too much. Her eyes darted around the room in confusion. Why was everyone looking at her like that? 

She sat there for a while, when she realized she needed to finish a document for Paul. 

-Shit!

-What? What’s wrong?

-I need to finish that paper for Paul. I’ll see you guys later.

Y/N stood up madly. Suddenly, she felt her body numb slightly and her eyes roll into the back of her head. She felt dizzy and everything around her felt surreal. She attempted to take a step forward, but instead, her entire body fell forward. Next thing she knew, it all went black. 

Marshall saw her stand up. She looked like she was going to hurl. She fell forward and with a thud, she hit the carpeted floor. Everyone in the room ran to her. There was a bustle of voices. Pandemonium broke out. Someone called an ambulance. Marshall couldn’t remember much, but what he did know was that now he was sitting in a hospital lobby. Awaiting any news about his best friend. 

The realization settled in. The panic came along with it. He realized that his best friend (and sort of the love of his life) was in a hospital bed right now, unsure of whether or not she’ll make it out of here. He knew he couldn’t lose her.

-It’s anemia. Her case was pretty severe, since it was left untreated for 11 months. She had an iron deficiency, most likely from not eating properly. It could’ve become deadly if she’d left it untreated for too long. 

-Anemia?

Marshall couldn’t believe it. All of the signs were there and he never did anything about it. As soon as they let him know she was conscious, he ran into the room. He saw her in the bed and felt a wave of emotions. He felt sad knowing that she was hurting, he felt happy that she was okay, and he felt rage that she let this get that bad and that he hadn’t noticed.

-Hey, Marsh. 

-Hey. Did you know you had anemia?

-Wow. Straight to the point. Um, not specifically but, like, I knew there was something wrong.

Marshall started to become upset. How was she so casual about this? If anemia is left untreated, it can result in death.

-And you didn’t do anything about it?

-Well, no. I didn’t expect anything serious?

-The doctor told me that you could’ve died if you didn’t treat it. And he said it was because you weren’t eating. Why weren’t you eating?

-Look, Marsh, I just assumed that it would go away after a while. I didn’t even notice it had gotten that bad. And I mean, I haven’t really had an appetite. I’ve been working a lot and I just think I was stressed. 

-Well, you should’ve told me you were feeling overworked! I could’ve helped you! You could’ve died Y/N! Doesn’t that go through your head!

-I’m sorry! I didn’t think it was that deep! 

-Yeah? Well it was. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. I came here thinking you got some crazy disease. I was so worried.

-I can’t control my appetite Marsh. And you didn’t have to come.

-Yeah, well, when you’re on your deathbed, alone, you’ll wish you might’ve listened to me. 

Y/N’s mouth stayed slightly ajar after that last comment. How could he say that to her? He saw the look on her face and immediately regretted it. He knew he was doing wrong. He knew that it was a terrible thing to say.

-Look, Y/N, I’m so sor-

-Get out.

-What?

-Get out, Marsh. Leave.

And leave he did. He went home that day and had a long night of processing. He concluded that he had a point, but he should’ve phrased it better; he also should have picked a better time to say it. But he didn’t want to apologize. For some unknown reason, he couldn’t find it within himself to go to her and apologize. Eventually, a week had passed. He figured that she’d come to him soon and they’d make up. However, he was proven wrong when he received an email that Paul had forwarded him that morning. The title read “My Resignation”. He began to panic, calling her and sending her countless texts.  

He then called Paul, hoping it was a mistake.

-Look, man. I don’t know what you said or did to her, but it must’ve been pretty fucked up. You better go apologize to her now. 

Marshall quickly hopped into his car and drove to her house. He parked his car in her driveway, seeing she was home. He knocked on the door furiously, hoping to get ahold of her. She opened the door only a few inches. Enough to see his face. She was about to close the door when he pushed it open. She stumbled back a bit. 

-What the hell do you want Marsh?

-Look, Y/N, I came to apologize. I can’t believe I didn’t do this sooner. I'm so sorry. I didn’t mean any of the bullshit I said. I was just scared. I never meant to hurt you or make you feel bad. Especially since you were the one in the hospital bed. When I was the one in trouble, you never did any of that shit to me. I’m so sorry Y/N.

Y/N sighed deeply. As upset as she was with him, she couldn’t stay mad. She was starting to look like her old self again, Marshall realized. She got her glow back, her hair was looking thicker; she looked like she did before. Still a little thin, but back to somewhat normal. 

Y/N smiled weakly. She knew she couldn’t be mad at him forever, and this was silly. Marshall looked at her face, smiling, and he realized just how much he loved her. He looked at every feature he’d fallen in love with; her eyes, bright and curious, her lips, pretty and cute, her cheeks, slightly indented with all the smiling she does, but still beautiful. He knew he needed her, and without thinking, he leaned down and connected his lips with hers. It was passionate and sweet. The kiss contained all the words that need not be spoken. When he pulled back, she was smiling like an idiot, wide eyed. 

He knew that from then on, he would love her a little harder.

[asexual-spongebob]

Wail Of The Siren - Chapter 3 - The Offer (originally posted: 5/4/24)

Dib didn’t want to believe what he was seeing.

“Tak?! What are you doing here?!” Dib demanded, walking towards mew with a pissed look on his face.

“Dude chill out. I only came here to grab my ship. That’s all, I swear. I want nothing else.”Tak insisted. 

Dib glanced at Gaz with clenched teeth.

“Why are you hanging out with her of all people?!” They whispered in a demanding manner “she tried to destroy the planet for goodness sake.” They add. “Dib, mew doesn’t want to harm us, mew just came here to grab mew’s ship and not much else. I’m not sure why you’re freaking out over something this small.” Gaz scolded. “Yeah but- what if she hurts you?!” Dib fretted. “I know what to do if that happens, Dib. I don’t need my older sibling to protect me.” Gaz grunted. 

Dib then walked upstairs to his room. 

“Ugh Dib is so annoying. I hate how they think I’m still a baby.” Gaz grumbled as she sat back down on the couch.  “Is it okay if I stay here for the night?” Tak asked “Yeah sure, that’s fine. I don’t think my dad would mind.” Gaz answered, then going to the linen closet to grab a blanket.

“Here, I figured you might need this.” Gaz said, handing a blanket to Tak. “Thanks Gaz.” Tak replied, Gaz just nodded sat down on the couch.

“Do you want to play a game or something?” Gaz asked, Tak nodded, Gaz then went to tv stand to look for one.

She rummaged through the shelves for a moment hm… I know that she likes cats. This is probably a good choice. Gaz decided, pulling out the game.

“Does this sound good?” Gaz asked “Yeah that sounds great!” Tak answered. 

Gaz put the disk inside the console.

“So how does this game work?” Tak asked “Ah, so basically you have a little village of cats and you can assign the cats different jobs, like gardener or hunter or baker for example. You can also have the cats interact with each other with the interactions button. You can also take the cats on adventures where they fight monsters. On adventures you can also get special items and currency.” Gaz infodumped “ah, neat. This sounds like it’ll be fun.” Tak remarked, Gaz nodded in agreement. 

It was around 2 am, Professor Membrane arrived home, ready for a good slumber.

He saw his daughter, Gaz sitting on the couch with a blue haired girl and what looked to be her pet cat.

“Hello daughter, how was your day?” He yawned “Fine Dad.” Gaz responded. “Who’s this?” He asked, glancing at Tak. 

“This is a friend of mine, her name is Tak.” Gaz introduced, Tak gave a small wave. “Pleasure to meet you!” She adds, Membrane offered her a hand shake, which was taken.

“Where’s Dib?” Membrane asked, glancing around the room. “He’s upstairs, he’s probably drawing moth man or something. Or making his moth man plushies kiss.” Gaz answered. “My poor insane son…” Membrane remarked, then heading up the stairs.

Dib laid in bed, they’d put their clothes to dry on the end of their bed and had put on their pajamas. 

They held one of their mothman plushies, Mothy, close. Trying to fall asleep. He still remembered the day the got Mothy from that gift shop, when he was only five years old.

“Hey Dad, can I get this?” 

“No daughter.”

“Pretty pretty please? With a cherry on top?”

“Alright fine- you can get it I guess.”

“Thanks Dad! You’re the best!”

“My poor insane daughter…” 

Dib had a pumpkin scented candle lit, Mothy smelled like pumpkins now. 

He wasn’t even sure where he got the candle, he had just found it in his closet one day and decided to light it.

Dib sat up and climbed down the small latter on the slide of their bed and blew out the candle. The stench of smoke filled their nose. 

Ew. Dib thought with a disgusted look on their face. They then climbed back in bed and stared at the glowing stars on their ceiling.

He then drifted off to sleep.

Dib awoke to the sound of birds singing, the sun light the room.

Dib sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his vision was blurry, he looked for his glasses which sat on the his nightstand.

There. That’s much better. Dib thought, then climbing out of bed to use the bathroom. 

Dib grabbed a towel from the linen closet and headed to the bathroom, he turned the faucet to the warm setting.

Dib fidgeted as they watched the tub fill with water. When will this tub be filled?! Dib questioned as they leaned over the tub. 

After five minutes, (which felt like an hour for Dib.) the tub was finally full. Dib poured in some bubble bath, then swishing it around with their hand, once the bubbles were to their liking, they got in. 

Dib soaked in the warm, refreshing water for about ten minutes before scrubbing himself. 

He was once again glad that it was only salt water that trigged a siren transformation. 

Once Dib was finished he rinsed himself off and dried off.

Dib had placed his coat in the garage to air dry the night before. 

Membrane was downstairs doing his laundry, however he noticed a strange stench coming from Dib’s coat.

Membrane grabbed the coat. It had the strong stench of fish and salt water.

Dib went in the garage, he was wearing a mothman shirt that was way too big for him and some pajama pants with ufo’s on them. He was also wearing some huge, ridiculous looking slippers.

“Hey son, why does your coat smell like fish?”Membrane asked. 

“Uh- no idea Dad!” Dib lied shakily. 

“Oh uh- okay?” Membrane replied awkwardly, unconvinced, then throwing the coat in the washer. 

Dib then walked to the kitchen, Tak and Gaz were eating some pancakes that Gaz had cooked. 

Dib was getting some cereal, he didn’t want to ask Gaz to make him pancakes. 

Dib poured the cereal in the bowl and added some milk and ate it. 

Gaz and Tak had went to the local convenience store near the beach, Gaz sipped on her blue raspberry and cherry suck monkey, Tak had gotten a poop cola flavored one.

The two of them stood in the parking lot. 

“I HAATEE YOOOOU DIIIIIB!!!!” Zim shouted as he chased Dib “SHUT UP ZIM! I HATE YOU MORE!” Dib shouted back.

“Ah yes, typical Zim and Dib behavior.” Gaz remarked as she rolled her eyes, then taking a dramatic sip from her suck monkey. “Mhm.” Tak hummed in agreement.

Zim and Dib then started punching and kicking each other “YEAH!!! YEEEAH!!! GET HIM!!!” Gir cheered as it obnoxiously slurped its suck monkey. 

Keef sat at the dinner table with his parents, they were having some lunch.

Keef stared down at his food, taking small bites.

I wonder that fish creature was… Keef wondered as he took a bite out of his chicken.

He wasn’t sure what kind of fish it was, it looked more human than fish, but it still was fishy enough to where it wasn’t exactly human either.

“Is something wrong Keef?” Keef’s mom asked, noticing the look on her son’s face.

Keef nodded. “I’m just thinking about that happened a few days ago.” They mumbled as they licked the chicken seasoning off their lips.

“You know how I told you about how that fish I was supposed to bring home a few days ago was stolen right out of my bucket?” Keef recalled, their parents nodded.

“Well… I’m still trying to figure out what creature it was. I don’t know of any marine animals with scaly hands like that, other than a salt water crocodile but those don’t live anywhere near here so I’ve ruled that out.” Keef adds. “Are you sure you weren’t seeing things?” Keef’s mom questioned. “I’m sure! I saw it with my own eyes!” Keef assured.

“Well. Hopefully you can figure out what stole your fish soon!” Keef’s dad said, Keef nodded in agreement.

Once Keef had finished his food he placed his dishes in the sink and grabbed a fishing pole, canoe and some fishing equipment.

After saying goodbye to his parents, he was off to the beach. 

Keef walked to the beach, wearing some sandals, a fishing hat, a button up shirt and denim shorts. 

Gaz and Tak still stood in the gas station parking lot, drinking the last of their suck monkeys, watching Zim and Dib fight.

Keef stopped in a his tracks, Zim and Dib were beating each other up.

“Hey! Guys! Please stop!” Keef pled, dropping his things and running towards Zim and Dib.

Keef pulled Zim off of Dib.

“Why can’t you two just get along? It’s like you guys always have to fight over something. Can’t you just be nice to each other for once?” Keef questioned.

Dib and Zim gave angry looks at each other, Zim let out a cat like hiss. Dib and Zim then went in different directions, Zim was going to grab a snack with Gir and Dib was heading to the beach.

“Hey I’m gonna go for a swim, see you in a bit.” Gaz said, Tak and Gaz waved to each other before Gaz ran over to the beach. 

“HEY WAIT FOR ME DIB!!!” Gaz shouted in between breathes. 

Once Gaz and Dib reached the beach, Dib took off his flip flops, the hot white sand burned beneath Dib’s bare feet. 

“Ouch!” Dib groaned “that’s why you keep your shoes on, dumbass.” Gaz jeered, then running off into the waves. 

“Hey wait up!” Dib called out, then running after his sister, the two disappeared into the waves.

Meanwhile, Zim and Keef walked to the convenience store, however Zim then noticed someone familiar.

Tak. 

Zim couldn’t believe it’s eyes. What was Tak doing there? 

Tak let out an angry hiss at the sight of Zim. 

“What do you want from ZIIIMM!!!” Zim demanded, crossing xyr arms as xe bit xyr lip. “I want nothing from you Zim.” Tak spat bluntly. “I’m only staying here because I’m not sure where to go next.” Mew adds as mew placed mew’s hands on mew’s hips.

“Yeah sure. I bet you want something from me. Don’t you? Like revenge?” Zim laughed. 

“Zim. How many times do I have to tell you that I hate you and that I want nothing to do with you.” Tak reminded him. “Zim, if Tak doesn’t like you, you should respect that. I think we should just go.” Keef advised.

Zim let out a defeated huff, “see you later Keef.” Zim said, glancing away from Tak and glancing at Keef.

Zim and Gir then started to walk back home. 

“Alright, bye Zim!” Keef replied, turning around. 

Keef went on his way to the beach. Once he arrived he pushed his canoe into water before climbing into his boat.

They began to paddle towards a good fishing spot.

Dib lurked below the surface, however, he saw the canoe again.

Keef was almost ready to cast the fish rod, until he saw someone familiar lurking below the surface. 

The creature. The creature that had stolen their fish.

They caught a glimpse of the siren’s face as it glanced over its shoulder.

Dib?! 

“Dib?” Keef gasped, not believing their eyes.

Dib froze, rolled over and looked up at Keef, with an anxious expression on his face. 

“P-please don’t tell anyone…” Dib stammered. Keef recognized something.

Wait a minute. Aren’t those the same scaly hands I saw when my fish was stolen? Keef questioned. They were.

“Hey… You stole my fish…” Keef frowned, Dib broke the surface of the water when they swam up. “Yeah… I didn’t know it was your’s… Not until I over heard you and Zim talking about it…” Dib admitted. 

Keef nodded, “I had no idea that was your’s at the time. All I saw was a bucket handle and I was hungry- “ Dib adds. “It’s okay I guess, just please don’t steal my fish again-“ Keef requested “understood.” Dib replied with a nod.

“What are you anyway? Are you merman or something?” Keef questioned. “I’m a siren, so is Gaz, we became sirens after I accidentally spilled some of our dad’s chemicals on us.” Dib explained. “Y-you’re not gonna e-eat m-my fl-flesh are you?” Keef stammered. 

“Nah of course not!” Dib assured “oh, alright, thank you.” Keef sighed of relief.

“Anyway uh- now knowing that fish was yours, I feel pretty bad about it… so you can this fish I caught if you want it..” Dib offered, pulling a salmon out of his pocket “Thanks!” Keef smiled, taking the fish out of Dib’s hand.

Mimi and Gir sat on the dock, they could see Keef and Dib in the distance.

Mimi and Gir had been talking for a few hours at this point. 

Mimi had a sad expression on her face.

She had gone quiet.

“What’s wrong?” Gir asked with a frown “I’m not sure if we can be friends Gir.” Mimi finally said, breaking the silence. “I mean- our master’s hate each other’s guts, I don’t think they’d be happy if they found out we hang out together…” Mimi adds. “Just because Tak and Zim hate each other doesn’t mean we have to! We can still be friends!” Gir assured, then hugging Mimi. 

“Thanks Gir, I needed that.” Mimi thanked, ignoring the stinky stench that reeked from Gir’s dog costume. 

“Anyway I brought cookies!” Gir cheered, whipping out the cookies, it and Mimi enjoying them. 

“What did you use in these? They taste really good!” Mimi giggled “Vanilla extract!” Gir smiled, licking the crumbs off its lips.

[acourtofquestions]

KINGDOM OF ASH (by SJM)

Chapter 48

THE FAMILY REUINION🥹😆😭🫶& MY SOULLL

But when they reached Princess Hasar's battle tent, when they had all gathered around a map of Anielle, they had only a few minutes of discussion before they were interrupted. By the person Chaol least expected to walk through the flaps.

A moment later, Chaol was glad he was sitting down.

Nesryn breathed, "Holy gods."

Chaol was inclined to agree as Aelin Galathynius, Rowan Whitethorn, and several others entered the tent.

They were mud-splattered, the Queen of Terrasen's braided hair far longer than Chaol had last seen. And her eyes ... Not the soft, yet fiery gaze. But something older. Wearier.

Chaol shot to his feet. "I thought you were in Terrasen," he blurted. All the reports had confirmed it. Yet here she stood, no army in sight.

Three Fae males-towering warriors as broad and muscled as Rowan—had entered, along with a delicate, dark-haired human woman.

But Aelin was only staring at him. Staring and staring at him.

No one spoke as tears began sliding down her face. Not at his being here, Chaol realized as he took up his cane and limped toward Aelin.

But at him. Standing. Walking.

The young queen let out a broken laugh of joy and flung her arms around his neck. Pain lanced down his spine at the impact, but Chaol held her right back, every question fading from his tongue.

Aelin was shaking as she pulled away. "I knew you would," she breathed, gazing down his body, to his feet, then up again. "I knew you'd do it."

"Not alone," he said thickly. Chaol swallowed, releasing Aelin to extend an arm behind him. To the woman he knew stood there, a hand over the locket at her neck.

Perhaps Aelin would not remember, perhaps their encounter years ago had meant nothing to her at all, but Chaol drew Yrene forward. "Aelin, allow me to introduce"

"Yrene Towers," the queen breathed as his wife stepped to his side.

The two women stared at each other.

Yrene's mouth quivered as she opened the silver locket and pulled out a piece of paper. Hands trembling, she extended it to the queen. Aelin's own hands shook as she accepted the scrap.

"Thank you," Yrene whispered.

Chaol supposed it was all that really needed to be said.

Aelin unfolded the paper, reading the note she'd written, seeing the lines from the hundreds of foldings and rereadings these past few years.

"I went to the Torre," Yrene said, her voice cracking. "I took the money you gave me, and went to the Torre. And I became the heir apparent to the Healer on High. And now I have come back, to do what I can. I taught every healer I could the lessons you showed me that night, about self-defense. I didn't waste it-not a coin you gave me, or a moment of the time, the life you bought me." Tears were rolling and rolling down Yrene's face. "I didn't waste any of it."

Aelin closed her eyes, smiling through her own tears, and when she opened them, she took Yrene's shaking hands. "Now it is my turn to thank you." But Aelin's gaze fell upon the wedding band on Yrene's finger, and when she glanced to Chaol, he grinned.

"No longer Yrene Towers," Chaol said softly, "but Yrene Westfall."

Aelin let out one of those choked, joyous laughs, and Rowan stepped up to her side.

Yrene's head tilted back to take in the warrior's full height, her eyes widening-not only at Rowan's size, but at the pointed ears, the slightly elongated canines and tattoo. Aelin said, "Then let me introduce you, Lady Westfall, to my own husband, Prince Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius."

For that was indeed a wedding band on the queen's finger, the emerald mud-splattered but bright. On Rowan's own hand, a gold-and-ruby ring gleamed.

"My mate," Aelin added, fluttering her lashes at the Fae male. Rowan rolled his eyes, yet couldn't entirely contain his smile as he inclined his head to Yrene.

Yrene bowed, but Aelin snorted. "None of that, please. It'll go right to his immortal head." Her grin softened as Yrene blushed, and Aelin held up the scrap of paper. "May I keep this?" She eyed Yrene's locket. "Or does it go in there?"

Yrene folded the queen's fingers around the paper. "It is yours, as it always was. A piece of your bravery that helped me find my own."

Aelin shook her head, as if to dismiss the claim.

But Yrene squeezed Aelin's closed hand. "It gave me courage, the words you wrote. Every mile I traveled, every long hour I studied and worked, it gave me courage. I thank you for that, too."

Aelin swallowed hard, and Chaol took that as excuse enough to sit again, his back giving a grateful tinge. He said to the queen, "There is another person responsible for this army being here." He gestured to Nesryn, the woman already smiling at the queen. "The rukhin you see, the army gathered, is as much because of Nesryn as it is because of me."

A spark lit Aelin's eyes, and both women met halfway in a tight embrace. "I want to hear the entire story," Aelin said. "Every word of it." Nesryn's subdued smile widened. "So you shall. But later." Aelin clapped her on the shoulder and turned to the two royals still by the desk. Tall and regal, but as mud-splattered as the queen.

Chaol blurted, "Dorian?"

Rowan answered, "Not with us." He glanced to the royals.

"They know everything," Nesryn said

"He's with Manon," Aelin said simply.

Chaol wasn't entirely sure whether to be relieved. "Hunting for something important."

The keys. Holy gods.

Aelin nodded. Later. He'd think on where Dorian might now be later. Aelin nodded again. The full story would come then too.

Nesryn said, "May I present Princess Hasar and Prince Sartaq."

Aelin bowed—low. "You have my eternal gratitude," Aelin said, and the voice that came out of her was indeed that of a queen. Any shock Sartaq and Hasar had shown upon the queen bowing so low was hidden as they bowed back, the portrait of courtly grace.

"My father," Sartaq said, "remained in the khaganate to oversee our lands, along with our siblings Duva and Arghun. But my brother Kashin sails with the rest of the army. He was not two weeks behind us when we left."

Aelin glanced to Chaol, and he nodded.

Something glittered in her eyes at the confirmation, but the queen jerked her chin at Hasar. "Did you get my letter?"

The letter that Aelin had sent months ago, begging for aid and promising only a better world in return. Hasar picked at her nails. "Perhaps. I get far too many letters from fellow princesses these days to possibly remember or answer all of them."

Aelin smirked, as if the two of them spoke a language no one else could understand, a special code between two equally arrogant and proud women. But she motioned to her companions, who stepped forward. "Allow me to introduce my friends. Lord Gavriel, of Doranelle." A nod toward the tawny-eyed and golden-haired warrior who bowed.

Tattoos covered his neck, his hands, but his every motion was graceful. "My uncle, of sorts," Aelin added with a smirk at Gavriel. At Chaol's narrowed brows, she explained, "He's Aedion's father."

"Well, that explains a few things," Nesryn muttered.

The hair, the broad-planed face ... yes, it was the same. But where Aedion was fire, Gavriel seemed to be stone. Indeed, his eyes were solemn as he said, "Aedion is my pride." Emotion rippled over Aelin's face, but she gestured to the dark-haired male. Not someone Chaol ever wanted to tangle with, he decided as he surveyed the granite-hewn features, the black eyes and unsmiling mouth.

"Lorcan Salvaterre, formerly of Doranelle, and now a blood-sworn member of my court." As if that weren't a shock enough, Aelin winked at the imposing male. Lorcan scowled. "We're still in the adjustment period," she loudly whispered, and Yrene chuckled.

Lorcan Salvaterre. Chaol hadn't met the male this spring in Rifthold, but he'd heard all about him. That he'd been Maeve's most trusted commander, her most loyal and fierce warrior.

That he'd wanted to kill Aelin, hated Aelin.

How this had come about, why she was not in Terrasen with her army ... "You, too, have a tale to tell," Chaol said.

"Indeed I do." Aelin's eyes guttered, and Rowan put a hand on her lower back. Bad— something terrible had occurred. Chaol scanned Aelin for any hint of it. He stopped when he noticed the smoothness of the skin at her neck. The lack of scars. The missing scars on her hands, her palms. "Later," Aelin said softly. She straightened her shoulders, and another golden-haired male came forward. Beautiful. That was the only way to describe him. "Fenrys ... You know, I don't actually know your family name."

Fenrys threw a roguish wink at the queen.

"Moonbeam."

"It is not," Aelin hissed, choking on a laugh.

Fenrys laid a hand on his heart. "I am blood-sworn to you. Would I lie?"

Another blood-sworn Fae male in her court.

Across the tent, Sartaq cursed in his own tongue. As if he'd heard of Lorcan, and Gavriel, and Fenrys.

Aelin gave Fenrys a vulgar gesture that set Hasar chuckling, and faced the royals. "They're barely housebroken. Hardly fit for your fine company." Even Sartaq smiled at that. But it was to the small, delicate woman that Aelin now gestured. "And the only civilized member of my court, Lady Elide Lochan of Perranth." Perranth. Chaol had combed through the family trees of Terrasen just this winter, had seen the lists of so many royal households crossed out, victim to the conquest ten years ago.

Elide's name had been among them.

Another Terrasen royal who had managed to evade Adarlan's butchers.

The pretty young woman took a limping step forward, and bobbed a curtsy to the royals. Her boots concealed any sign of the source of the injury, but Yrene's attention shot right to her leg. Her ankle. "It's an honor to meet all of you," Elide said, her voice low and steady. Her dark eyes swept over them, cunning and clear. Like she could see beneath their skin and bones, to the souls beneath.

Aelin wiped her hands. "Well, that's over and done with," she announced, and strode to the desk and map. "Shall we discuss where you all plan to march once we beat the living shit out of this army?"

[simpforboys]

surprise!

drew starkey x fem!singer!reader

summary: ever since the reader started blowing up, all the interviews and promotions that would ask her who her celebrity crush is, she always had the same answer. so when Jimmy Fallon invites her on his show, he might have a surprise in store…

warnings: fluff!! second hand embarrassment, reader gushes about Drew, she’s just a fangirl at heart

‘perfume’ by del water gap mentioned <3

part two

2020

“Who’s your celebrity crush?”

“Drew Starkey, he plays Rafe in Outer Banks.”

“Do you have a celebrity crush?

“Yeah, Drew Starkey from Outer Banks.”

“Are there any people you would hope to collab with or meet?”

“Definitely Drew Starkey from Outer Banks.”

2021

“Last year you said multiple times Drew Starkey is your celebrity crush, is this still true?”

“Yeah, he’s still my main one.”

“Are there any guys you’re interested in?”

“My dream guy is Drew Starkey, if that’s what you mean.”

“What’s your type in a man?”

“Umm… probably Drew Starkey.”

2022

“Update us on all the boy drama! Anyone interesting?”

“Just waiting for Drew Starkey.”

“You look stunning! Are you here with anyone tonight?”

“No, I’m not.”

“Your crush around Drew Starkey, is that still a thing?”

“It still is… have you seen his new movie ‘Hellraiser’?”

2023

“Your new EP just released, are any of the songs about Drew Starkey?”

“Not on this one, no. Maybe the next one.”

“Are you seeing anyone? Has Drew Starkey called?”

“No, not yet. Maybe next year.”

“Have you seen season three of ‘Outer Banks’ yet?”

“Yes, oh my god! Drew looked so good.”

2024

“Your new song ‘Perfume’ is an absolute hit! Is it about Drew Starkey?”

“Omg, no, but it should’ve been.”

“You’ve quickly risen to fame! Has Drew Starkey noticed you yet?”

“Unfortunately, no. He’s probably hiding.”

Ever since your career started, in every single interview you get the question regarding celebrity crushes, the answer was always the same.

Drew Starkey.

It became a known meme revolving you and your fans, along with the media. Practically every interview just loved to teased you about your known celebrity crush.

Your popularity rose more in 2023 to 2024, so, when Jimmy Fallon reached out to you to have you on his show, your agency immediately agreed.

Standing behind the curtain wearing a tight brown suit, the pants wide-leg. Black boots were your choice of footwear, your makeup done perfectly to match the outfit.

“Ladies and gentlemen, bring your hands together for Y/n L/n!”

When Jimmy announced your name, you came out from behind the curtain, a big smile on your face as you waved to the audience.

Shaking hands and hugging some of the crew members before you finally hugged Jimmy, settling down in the blue chair.

“How are you doing tonight?” Jimmy asks with a warm smile.

“I’m doing good! Pretty nervous to be honest, this is my first talkshow.” You answered sincerely.

The audience clapped and Jimmy sunk back in his seat a little more.

“Well, I’m glad to be your first one! So, your new song ‘Perfume’ recently came out, congratulations on 200 million streams.”

“Thank you so much, really.” Your hands were shaking as you fidgeted with the brown fabric on your knee, one leg crossed over the other.

“So, you’ve been singing since 2020?” Jimmy asks.

“Yeah, I started posting videos on Tik Tok but my career really took off at the end of 2023 and now here we are.” You smile, the whole experience still so surreal.

“Your voice is phenomenal, seriously. I’ll need to have you come back and sing on the show for us.” Jimmy says, causing the audience to erupt into cheers.

You laughed a little, nodding your head. “Of course, anytime.”

Jimmy continued to talk to you for a few more minutes about your career, the conversation flowing smoothly as you cracked some nervous jokes.

“So, I have to ask, Y/n. Since your career began you’ve said your celebrity crush is Drew Starkey, can you tell us more about this?”

You felt your face get a little warm as you shifted in your seat, an anxious smile on your lips.

“I dunno, I guess I’ve just always found him attractive. He’s insanely talented and just seems like a very genuine soul.” You say sheepishly, avoiding looking at the camera.

“He’s also becoming more and more popular right now, with season four of ‘Outer Banks’ that came out in October and November along with his new movie ‘Queer’.” Jimmy adds on.

“Yeah, I’m a pretty big fan so I’ve been following along with it. I’m very proud of him, in like a supportive-fan way.” You say, making the audience laugh at the last part.

You were completely oblivious to Jimmy looking behind you, motioning with his hand underneath his desk.

“So it’s not just his looks?” Jimmy teases.

“I mean, he’s a very beautiful man. He looks good with any haircut especially that mullet he had last year — and oh my god, he just looked so good in season four of ‘Outer Banks.’ Plus he has these big biceps that just bulge out of any shirt.”

You hadn’t even realized you were gushing over your celebrity crush until you finally caught yourself, hearing the audience laughing.

“Oh, gosh. You are really into him, huh?” Jimmy teases.

“What would you do if he was standing right behind you?” The host asks.

If you weren’t so nervous from being on a national talkshow you probably would’ve understood his message.

But your brain caused you to miss it, being as oblivious as ever.

“Probably pass out.” You answered, hearing the audience giggle more. Jimmy had an amused grin on his face.

“Please don’t pass out.”

Your posture immediately straightened, body tense as you stood up from the seat.

Turning around, your heart dropped to your stomach when you saw Drew fucking Starkey standing there.

The audience’s laughter grew as well as Jimmy’s, clearly satisfied with the surprise.

Your hands went to cover your mouth, face feeling hot like you had a fever. You just gushed about this man practically to his face.

“Hi, Y/n. I’m Drew.”

You couldn’t respond, just in pure shock as you stare at the tall man.

Drew also looked a little sheepish, his cheeks pink as he grinned at you.

“Did you— did you hear everything?” You finally managed to choke out.

“Maybe.” Drew chuckled, scratching the side of his neck.

“How do you feel after hearing all that, Drew?” Jimmy chuckles.

“I’m honored,” Drew replies.

You hated the way he fucking said that and the way you understood that reference.

Drew held his hand out for you to shake, but your heart was beating too fast and your brain was turning into nervous mush that you just embarrassed yourself in front of your dream man.

“Are you going to shake his hand? Hug him?” Jimmy chuckled.

“I’m… scared.” You murmured, the audience swooning and giggling over your shyness.

“Can I hug you?” Drew asked.

Stunned, your head slowly nodded. His strong arms wrapped around your body, your forehead resting against his shoulder.

You couldn’t even hug him back properly, just too much in shock. He smelt like cologne and it made your knees weak.

“I love your new song, by the way.” Drew murmured softly in your ear.

“Yeah?” You whisper, feeling like an idiot for the way you were reacting in front of him.

Drew just nods and hums, soothingly caressing your back in an effort to calm you down.

“Ladies and gentlemen, give it up one last time for Y/n L/n and Drew Starkey!” Jimmy has to end the segment.

The audience cheers as Drew continues to embrace you.

He had known about you for the last few months, having a few of your songs in his playlists.

He was just constantly busy so he never really got the chance to reach out, but when Jimmy’s team contacted him about surprising you on the show, he was excited.

And nervous.

“Sorry about surprising you like that.” Jimmy comes over, causing you and Drew to finally pull away.

“You gave me trust issues for talkshows now.” You said jokingly, finally calming down a bit.

Drew and Jimmy both laughed softly.

The film crew told you and Drew that the commercial break would be ending soon so to step off stage.

You did your signature on the wall dedicated to Jimmy’s guests, feeling familiar blue eyes gazing at you.

After thanking each crew member and shaking hands or hugging, an assistant pointed you and Drew towards where a car will take you both back to your perspective hotels.

“You ready?” Drew asked you.

You nodded, feeling nervous due to the fact that you were about to be alone in the back of a car with your celebrity crush, other than the driver in the front.

Drew opened the door for you as you climbed in, hyperaware of how he slid in behind you onto the leather seat.

It was quiet for a few moments, you nervously fidgeting with the rings on your fingers.

“So… you like my new song?”

You finally manage to choke out.

Drew smiled softly, turning his head to look at you. He was still a little flustered at everything that happened, but also very amused.

“I do, yeah. Are you going to shoot a music video for it?” Drew asked.

You nod, making eye contact with him.

“Yeah, my idea is to tell a story about these two lovers who move to like a quieter part, I was thinking either the forest or a desert, that live in poorer conditions but are completely happy and content because they have each other. I want it to be full of love, so kissing, affection, a sex scene.”

You rambled on to him, your eyes falling to your hands as you played with your rings.

“Oh, wow. That sounds cool as fuck.” Drew murmured, also watching your hands fidget. He thought it was cute.

“I’ve had the idea in my head for a few years, actually. I started writing ‘Perfume’ in like… 2021? So, I just want everything to be perfect.”

You added on, looking back at him. He had his left leg crossed over his knee, his body language towards you.

“Well… if you need a male costar, I would love to do it.” He gave you a smile.

A small grin curled onto your lips, stomach hurting at realization of what he just implied.

“Yeah?”

He nodded, licking his lips.

“Mhm. I told you, I love the song. Plus, your idea sounds amazing, and if you want me to, I would love to be apart of it.”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat when it finally hit you that Drew fucking Starkey wanted to be your on-screen lover.

“You’re not just fucking with me, right?”

You had to ask, blurting it out of your nervous mouth.

Drew just snorted, shaking his head in amusement. “No, I’m not.”

“Okay… I’ll have my manager reach out to your’s about details for when we start shooting. I appreciate it a lot.”

You were unaware the car finally came to a stop, parked outside your hotel, fans and security guards waiting for you.

“Yeah, I’ll definitely be there. Have a good night, Y/n.”

Drew smiled at you, your heart fluttering.

“You too, Drew.”

You got out of the car, letting the security guards guide you inside the hotel. You tried your best to take photos or sign autographs for your dedicated fans, something Drew admired as he watched from the back of the SUV.

By the time you finally got back into your hotel room and kicked off your boots, you started taking off your jewelry.

Flopping down onto the bed, you grabbed your phone.

It felt like your heart dropped to your stomach when one notification specifically caught your eye.

@/drewstarkey started following you back

[fastandcarlos]

George In Paris : ̗̀➛ George Russell

summary: during summer break your two paths cross, leaving the fans putting their investigative skills to the test

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by peforman, its_lucien and 793,723 others

ynusername: the ending of summer break, excited to get back on set in a few days time ☀️

68,361 comments

username1: stfu I’ve been waiting for season 4 for so long 😭😭

username2: you’ve got no idea how happy this post has made me

its_lucien: so excited to see you and have a proper british catch up soon 🍷

username3: forget filming, who tf is that guy in the window 🤔

ashleyparklady: I am gonna need all the gossip asap girlie when you get off that plane!!!

ynusername: @/ashleyparklady good because I am so ready to spill 🥺

username4: glad you’re well rested but SO ready for another season to come our way!!

username5: all I wanna know is who’s the lucky guy that gets to date yn???

emilia_clarke: you can’t just spring something on us like that yn!

username6: I can finally sleep easy at night knowing we’re gonna see the end of this damn cliffhanger ☺️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lucasnbravo, ashleyparklady and 838,067 others

ynusername: back in my favourite place on earth with some of my favourite people. season 4 is on its way 🇫🇷

72,058 comments

username7: look at them all eurgh this makes me so happy 🤩

philippineleroybeaulieu: even if sylvie isn’t happy to see you, I most definitely am ❤️

username8: my year has officially been made!!

username9: I wonder if window guy went with her to paris too 🤔

username10: @/username9 are we really calling him window guy?? 😂

username11: it makes me smile so much knowing they’re all back together again

lucasnbravo: can’t wait for the dream team to be back together again!!!

username12: those pictures of paris make me want to go so bad 😭

maddenrichard: it’s been a hot shooting with you, enjoy heading back to paris again 💕

ynusername: @/maddenrichard gutted to be going on set again without you there

username13: the countdown is on for season premiere 🎉

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, lewishamilton and 2,027,436 others

georgerussell63: a dream summer break that I never wanted to end. looking forward to getting back behind the wheel next week 🌊🐬

128,573 comments

username14: you could iron on those abs they’re so flat 🤯

landonorris: well you certainly look like you’ve been enjoying yourself my friend

alex_albon: how many sit ups did you do before posing for that photo??

georgerussell63: @/alex_albon none thank you very much 🖕🏻

username15: we can’t wait to see you back on the grid this weekend!!!

danielricciardo: could you have posted a more subtle photo to let the world know you’ve got an unidentifiable girlfriend!?

username16: wait who tf is that and where has she come from??

username17: so this is how we find out that george isn’t single anymore 😭

charles_leclerc: offended that I didn’t know about her before you posted to the world 💔

username18: reminding myself to smile and be happy for him 😩

lewishamilton: looks like someone’s had plenty of rest 😉

username19: keeping a close eye in the garage this weekend to see if we can spot someone!?

mercedesamgf1: we can’t wait to welcome you back next week george 🩵

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by georgerussell63, camillerazat and 782,057 others

ynusername: it feels unfair to call this work when the location looks this good 🔥

73,491 comments

username20: I feel like I’m living my dream through yn these days

brunogouery: it’s never work when you get to work with a legend like me 😂

ynusername: @/brunogouery you’re the main reason I enjoy going into work everyday ofc 😂

username21: this is the sort of my place I fantasise about living in one day!

its_lucien: you need to take me to that macaron place as soon as my plane lands!!

username22: why is george randomly in the likes over here??

philippineleroybeaulieu: paris really does look good on you 🔥

username23: smiling about the fact everyday we’re getting one step closer to season 4 ☺️

peforman: what isn’t photographed is you crashing mine and ash’s date in the first photo

ynusername: @/peforman no idea what you’re talking about 🤷🏻‍♀️

username24: you can see why paris is the city of love ❤️

username25: there’s no way you can ever call that work, it’s like being in a fairytale

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by its_lucien, georgerussell63 and 812,084 others

ynusername: always nice to have a little surprise visitor on set 🥰

81,080 comments

username26: a surprise visitor who for some reason doesn’t have a face 🤔

lucasnbravo: who is this person and why have I not met them??

ynusername: @/lucasnbravo they’re coming to the shoot tomorrow and I promise to introduce you ☺️

username27: why is george back in the likes, do these two know each other??

ybffusername: look at you guys, you’re already so good together 😩

username28: whoever this guy is he seems to dress pretty similar to how george does too 🤨

username29: there’s a week off from races this weekend, what if he went there to visit??

ashleyparklady: is this who I think it is?!

ynusername: @/ashleyparklady I can neither confirm nor deny 🥺

username30: there’s no way that it’s george, he could be anywhere in the world right now

username31: if it’s the two of them I think I might cry 🥹

camillerazat: drop whatever you’re doing and come and tell me all about this asap!

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

likes by landonorris, danielricciardo and 1,958,492 others

georgerussell63: turns out that it’s quite hard to hide in france too 😂 regardless it’s been the most incredible week seeing my girl in action and exploring a little bit of france too ☕️🇫🇷

139,508 comments

charles_leclerc: how on earth did you manage to bag yourself a world famous actress 🤯

georgerussell63: @/charles_leclerc I can’t help being such a charming man

username32: damn I knew it was george in that window all along!

landonorris: can’t believe you finally asked her out after pining for her for so long 🙏🏻

georgerussell63: @/landonorris shut up before I shut you up myself!

username33: explains why he’s been sneaking into the likes so often recently 😂

carlossainz55: rebecca absolutely loves the series and now she’s freaking out that she might meet yn 😭

georgerussell63: @/carlossainz55: we’ll have to organise something my friend

username34: they look so sweet, so happy for the two of you 💕

ynusername: I loved showing you around this weekend, the best time with you ❤️

username35: am I the only one who had no idea they were together??

alex_albon: mate you gotta come and catch me up cause where tf did this come from?

username36: at last window guy is no more 🙌🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by mercedesamgf1, lewishamilton and 903,723 others

ynusername: he finally managed to get me to see his world, who knew f1 was so much fun. thank you so much for hosting me mercedes 🏁

81,043 comments

username37: it’s adorable how supportive they are of each other 🥰

landonorris: even though it was brief, it was a joy to finally meet you!!

danielricciardo: such an honour to meet such a talented actress this weekend 🤩

ynusername: @/danielricciardo you can be as nice as you want I’m still not getting you a cameo 😂

username38: the crossover we’ve been waiting for for so long…

alex_albon: now I understand why george talks about you so much 😂

georgerussell63: @/alex_albon stop exposing me for being a man in love!

username39: yn you look right at home in an f1 garage too!

lewishamilton: it was an honour to finally meet you, hopefully see you again soon 🩵

username40: the way he looks at her is honestly just the sweetest!!

mercedesamgf1: you’re welcome back anytime, we loved having you with us 🩵

username41: idk who introduced these two together but thank you for blessing us with this adorable couple

georgerussell63: so glad you enjoyed it, it means the world that you came and watched the race 🥺

ynusername: @/georgerussell63 there’s nowhere else I’d have rather spent my weekend 🫶🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ashleyparklady, georgerussell63 and 1,039,361 others

ynusername: season 4 is finally here. hope you guys enjoy it as much as we enjoyed making it. au revoir for now paris 💞🇫🇷

92,043 comments

lewishamilton: congratulations on another amazing season yn, can’t wait to watch!!

username42: I’m already three episodes in and feel like I’ve been on an emotional rollercoaster 🎢

georgerussell63: I’m so proud of you, the most talented human I know 💕

ynusername: @/georgerussell63 thank you for always supporting me throughout the season 💞

username43: I’ve been dreaming of this day for so long…I can’t believe it’s finally here ☺️

ashleyparklady: I already miss you so much it’s not fair 😩

username44: I don’t think I’m ready to say goodbye to paris yn just yet…

landonorris: don’t tell anyone but I secretly watched…and I loved it 🙈

georgerussell63: @/landonorris I told you that you’d love it!!

danielricciardo: still waiting on the day for them to call me up to the cast too 😂

ynusername: @/danielricciardo you’ll be waiting for a very long time 😉

username45: it’s scary just how talented you are, every season just gets better and better!!

username46: george won the lottery the moment he met you yn 🥰

charles_leclerc: can’t wait to watch and see you do your thing yn!

iamrebeccad: the proudest best friend being able to see you do what you love 💞

username47: okay but now season 5 when!?!? 🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

[moonchild1]

park jimin fic rec list (Ⅲ)

woah it really has been a long time since i posted but i am so glad to be back and to get back into reading i saw so many of my favourite authors have updated and i am beyond excited to start this journey again but in the mean time here's jimin rec list as promised it was so exciting finishing this list cause i got so nostalgic making it and reading all the old fics i had on my reading list ughhh i just loved it so much and it got me back into the swing of things and i cant wait to make more lists, i do have another jjk list ready and i will post it the day after tomorrow so i hope you enjoy this one and don't forget to show all the love and support in the world to these amazing authors they work so hard to create these fics for us and they deserve endless praise and love for the commitment and generosity they have so please do leave them a comment, heart or reblog a small comment can go a long way here and can make someone smile even bigger so dont don't shy away from making someone happy... as usual you guys know this fics i recommend contain smut so minors don't interact you will be blocked... i really do love hearing from you guys so if you do have a little fic you are super into right now and you just want to rant about how amazing it is feel free to send me an ask 😊🖤

a- angst s- smut f- fluff

series

plot twist by @xpeachesncream f s a

↳ jimin isn’t interested in fake dating, but he’s definitely interested in getting to know someone the right way. after all, he feels like he’s ready to put himself out there and give it all he’s got. so, he takes a risk in trying something completely out of his comfort zone and hops on the new, popular dating app - only to come across and get to know someone he didn’t expect to meet.

a remedy for mondays by @dovechim s

↳ all you wanted was just one day off work. but for that to happen, you need to invent a plausible reason. and then somehow, somewhere along the way, things get out of hand, and now people think you’re having a baby with your co-worker Park Jimin after a one-night stand. confused? join the club.

it’s okay, that’s love by @/dovechim f s a deals with deep subjects

↳ People are constantly making some kind of connection with each other- be it friendship or romance. But human bonds always lead to messy complications; commitment, sharing, driving people to the airport, letting them get up close and personal with the darkest parts of ourselves. And sure- it’s scary as hell to watch them cross those boundaries you’ve so meticulously drawn, but it’s okay, because that’s love.

so it goes by @/dovechim f s

↳ Park Jimin knows a lot about humans. of course he does, he studies them for a living. he knows that they say hello by holding hands, and when they say goodbye, they put their arms around each other. but this particular human, he notes, is unlike the rest- stuck in a slump, going about your day praying for the Universe to stage an intervention in the form of an alien abduction. when he decides to finally fulfil your wishes, he finds that you have a little something to teach him about what it means to live life on Earth the way you do: ugly crying, underwear and all. in return, he shows you the possibilities that abound if you simply adopted their mantra: everything is beautiful, and nothing hurts.

love again by @taestefully-in-luv f s a

↳ A friend of yours is eager to introduce you to her new man but what happens when Park Jimin, the man who broke your heart 5 years ago walks in through the door?

the other woman: the seduction and the illusion by @namjooningelsewhere f s a

↳ No one told you being the other woman would never be easy, No one told you that his love would be two sides to a same coin. No one told you he came to you because you were his escape to his demons. No one told you he would always call you his, but he would never be yours. And most importantly no one told you, He never loved you because you dont destroy the people you love.

FUTURE HEARTS by @jungblue f s a ft. jjk

↳ It was everything, from his tattoos, to his touches, to the way sweat rolled down his neck as he strummed into his guitar on stage; everything about him completely enthralled you. So why are you now, two and a half years later, on a train to Seoul, telling a complete stranger the recollection of how you became fated to forever have scars on all of your future hearts due to the happiness, but most of all the pain, that came along with falling in love with Jeon Jungkook. 

after the applause by @foxymoxynoona

↳ Jimin doesn't know how he would have made it this far after the shattering of his world without the support of his thoughtful, generous, helpful neighbor. Hanbyul has lived next to hottie Jimin and his adorable daughter for years now, long enough to remember the wife he was so devoted to and lost far too young. With each safely ensconced on their side of the brick wall of the Parks' grief, it will take an enterprising little scientist to set the stage for a second chance at love.

saved by @to-star-lake s a

rockstar au deep subjects read warnings

midnight memories by @hobipaint f s a

↳ there's drunk habits, and then there's drunk mistakes. What do you call meeting your friend - no, ‘former friend’ - at a bar, getting drunk with him and sleeping- 'accidentally' - with him? especially when everyone already knows that you stay away from him as much as the day does from night?

Easy. You forget about it.

heartbreak chronicles by @sugaxjpg s

↳ Park Jimin had it all — good grades, a place as the soccer team’s captain and, more than that, the broken hearts of at least half the campus’ population. Though, one thing he did not have was someone willing to break his heart and, after you were dragged inside a miraculous plan to play that part, the last thing counted on was the preposterous idea that, perhaps, you could fall for him as well. 

drifting by@hongcherry f a

↳ After being assigned different partners for your midterm routine, your and Jimin’s relationship starts to deteriorate when you both begin spending more time away from each other and with your assigned partners instead.

growing pains by @taleasnewastime f s a

↳ Growing up the daughter of the boss of a gang is never easy, but normally the problems are around being given too many responsibilities, or the risk of being connected to a gang leader, or wanting to escape but not being able to. But you’ve got a different problem, you want more responsibility, want to be like your brother who’s been named heir, want a role in the family gang. Your whole life you’ve been denied what you want, being born a female seemingly your main issue; perceived as weak, naïve, trying to step above your station. But as unsupportive and dismissive as your family is, there is always the bright light that is Jimin; the boy you love but can never have.

tuqburni by @solastia f s a ft.myg

↳ You’ve spent two years building a life with Yoongi who you loved more than anything in the world. Now, his ex-boyfriend Jimin is back in the picture, and Yoongi begs you not to make him choose between the two of you, offering the choice of a polyamorous relationship. Though your heart is shattered, you agree.

stardust by @venusjeon f a

↳ struck by your beauty, Jimin begs to paint you naked behind the world's back so as not to stain your influential family—his patrons—with scandal.

drift by @snackhobi f s

↳ You used to think that there was nothing better than the sensation of coming first place. However, your rival- the talented, gorgeous, dangerous Park Jimin- is more than happy to prove you wrong.

the deli diaries by @jimlingss f

↳ Working at a grocery store deli is absolutely unbearable (and you’re also perfectly aware of how dramatic you are). But it seems like something, or rather, someone might make the job a bit more manageable.

best of me by @xotoosweet f a

↳ when he tells the story of how he met you in a few years, he'll claim that it was meant to be. you'll laugh and call it a coincidence. it was a coincidence that on the first day of summer semester, he decided to go on a run (though he claimed he always ran in the mornings). it was a coincidence that he chose a less traveled path in the university arboretum that morning. and it was definitely a coincidence that you were there, sitting on the rail of the river bridge.

the ten days of ex-mas by @kpopfanfictrash f s a

↳ Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.

strip by @yoonia f s a

↳ Summary | Everything you have done has always been about surviving life and raising your child on your own. Having someone else caring about you was the last thing you had expected. Especially when that someone is the same man you have watched performing every night on stage and secretly admired. But will he run the moment he finds out about your little secret waiting at home?

falling by @/yoonia s a

↳ For Park Jimin, you are everything he will ever need—his assistant, his housekeeper, his task runner, his fairy godmother. For you, he is more than everything. You have dedicated your life for him and, before you even realised it, your heart belongs to him alone. The only problem is that he is never yours, and you are living in a world that your love for him is nothing more than a fairytale ending. As you are suddenly given a chance to wake up and face the real world, will you be ready to embrace it? Will he be ready to deal with the world without you in it?

wrapped around by @jjkfire ft. kth f s a

↳ Freshman year was a mess and sophomore year doesn’t seem to be looking too good either. You know boys like them are no good for you but maybe they’re just your kind of type

baby, baby by @hobiwonder f s a

↳ When you’ve run out of savings to continue on to the last semester of your Bachelors - you take an unorthodox route. Helping a desperate couple have a child and getting paid for it? Heck yeah. But what do you know - it wasn’t as easy as it sounds.

love at first touch by bagelswrites (ao3)

↳ The first time you meet your soulmate, it leaves a bruise on both of you at the point of contact. From then on, your body begins rejecting any sustenance other than the touch of your soulmate. The trick is, the bruises take a few hours to appear, so you have to figure out who you've touched and find them before you starve to death. But once you do, all you ever need is them. So what happens if you're an idol and you meet your soulmate at a fan event?

our little family by @nightbts f a

↳ you were living a simple life filled with simple dreams; combining your two most loved things in life, children and teaching, you were starting out your career as a teacher at the local pre-school. but little did you know, how one child and her very special father, would change your simple life into something extraordinary

one-shot 35

brand new eyes by @missgeniality s

↳ Jimin’s eyes had potential to ruin you, and tonight you test the damage.

waves by @shina913 s

↳ It's Valentine's Day and your boyfriend decides to spice things up with a little surprise for you.

failure to communicate by @gukslut s

↳ Enemies to Lovers/ College AU

physical by @ppersonna f s

↳ you cant seem to escape the sexy fitness instructor that seemingly is everywhere you turn. it’s enough to make you irrational.

good for you by @candlewaxandp0lar0ids s

↳ Jimin can’t help the way he drowns himself in you. Why should he anyway?

ho-ho-home by @jjungkookislife s a

↳ Golden neighbor extraordinaire, Park Jimin, is (unintentionally) stealing your spotlight this holiday season. Despite your one sided rivalry with him, all Jimin wants is for you to remember him, to remember your past and hopefully create a future with you.

100km/hour by @chateautae s

↳ what exactly happens when you and your friends have to pile into one car for the ride home after an insane halloween party, and you find yourself sitting in park jimin’s lap? especially when he’s dressed as an angel, and you’re in the sluttiest devil costume ever?

what it's like by @jimilter s

↳ You’ve always heard great tales about how good the infamous fuckboy on campus, Park Jimin, is in bed, and wondered if there could be any truth behind these claims when the guy looks like an angel with his cheruby cheeks and precious smiles. So when a new gossip starts to circulate about how ‘hard he hits’, you have had enough of the suspense and decide to finally sample him yourself.

feel your touch by @/jimilter f s a

↳ You have always known yourself to be a sexual switch in bed, flipping between exercising and submitting control according to different situations and partners. And this camboy you are addicted to, one that seems to kinda reciprocate your interest, submits so beautifully that you just want to command him. But when things progress to levels you never anticipated, you end up discovering pleasant surprises that might just change your life.

the prince’s cinderella syndrome by @/jimilter f s a ft jjk

↳ He shows up at Halloween, every year, dressed the same, and leaves at midnight like some Cinderella. You would think he was a prankster if his eyes didn't look like they contained all the sadness in the world. You don't know him - no one on campus does. You don't know why he appears only once a year. You don't know why he never smiles. But you can't help falling in love with him. Even if he breaks your heart when he abandons you at midnight, again.

scream your panties by @opaljm s a

↳ As your midterms have ended and Halloween has arrived, you are looking forward to a pleasant time relaxing and enjoying the festivities at your sorority and Jimin’s frat houses. Luck is not in your favor, though, because things keep going wrong like a trail of dominoes falling – the only upside to your slowly deteriorating day being that you get to end it with your boyfriend��s delicious self between your legs.

first snow, last kiss by @taeshobipop f s a

↳ He broke your heart four years ago; the old loving memories of your time together now tainted by pure betrayal. Yet in the haze of new snow, after returning home for the first time, the moments you had once convinced yourself were nothing but a lie, reveal themselves to be otherwise.

antifreeze by @winetae s

↳ Jimin participates in the school’s adaption of The Nutcracker for extra credit but doesn’t expect his new dance partner to a) be this bad at dancing and b) be this fucking cute

what she likes by @untaemedqueen f s

idol au husband au marriage au

only you by @personasintro f s a

↳  you’ve been always there for your best friend, even when he became a single dad 

sucker by @/personasintro s a

↳ You wish you'd pay more attention to Jimin. Like, how his eyes kept changing color. How cold his skin was, too unrealistically to be natural. Or one second, he flashed you with his sharp canines and the next one he didn't have any. How much he craved for you, but not the way you thought he was.

please, lie to me by @ressjeon s a

↳ "centuries of loyalty vs. only months of fucking, how could you miscalculate?"

summer synchrony by @seokkgenie f s a

↳ childhood friends to lovers

neon seoul @readyplayerhobi f s a

↳ It the city of New Seoul, another homicide isn’t newsworthy but instead just a statistic. But when the son of the mayor is murdered in an alley in a shady part of the city? Then it’s important. You and your partner, Detective Park Jimin, are given the honour of investigating the crime. Will you find out who killed him? Or will you fail?

serendipity by @btsracket s a ao3

↳ It's serendipitous. Jimin braces for darkness but finds his light instead.

the boyfriend concept by @/kpopfanfictrash s

↳ Win a Date with a Porn Star! You saw the sign when you walked in, of course, but you had no idea your friend dropped your name into the raffle. Fast-forward to later that day, when you actually win. You are horrified, of course, with no intention of accepting and setting yourself up for embarrassment. But then you meet Jimin, and decide this might be worth a shot.

Lovely Demons by @/kpopfanfictrash s a

↳ As penance for a crime committed long, long ago, the Witch Council banished you to the feared Tholoss forest. Your sentence was one hundred thousand days of solitude – or death, whichever came first. Your only hope of salvation comes from the demon names routinely sent your way; creatures who escape the inner circles of Hell and pose a threat to the mortal realms. For each demon you kill, days are removed from your sentence. For years you’ve existed, biding your time, until one morning you receive a name which throws your entire world into chaos: the name of Park Jimin, High Prince of Hell himself.

blue blood by @joonbird s a

↳ “Prince Jimin was born with blue blood. His coronation is rapidly approaching, but there are two requirements he must fulfil before becoming a king. He must have the skills to fight in battle, and he must have a Queen with blood as blue as his. You, a member of the royal guard, are assigned to teach Jimin the ins and outs of combat. You are not scared of death, of blood, or of battle. What you are scared of however, is falling in love with Jimin, the one man your blood decrees you can never have.”

i want to be with you by @oddinary4bts f s a

↳ moving to Seoul has always seemed like a good idea, until the bubble bursts when you realize your new neighbor is Park Jimin, and he's not the sweet angel you've always imagined him to be. Will the reality of Park Jimin forever be a nightmare, or will he turn into a sweet dream?

locked in love by @parkmuse f s a

↳ Getting locked in the mall on Christmas eve isn’t ideal, but getting locked in the mall with your brothers best friend that you haven’t seen in a while? Well, it might have been alright if you didn’t have feelings for him.

peaches and cream by @snackhobi s

↳ you wouldn’t mind your cute neighbour being such a shameless fuckboy if a) the walls weren’t so thin and b) he didn’t seem intent on adding you as another notch in his bedpost. 

reset by @/dovechim s

↳ We are made of the pieces of what we remember, and we hold in ourselves the hopes and fears of those who love us. As long as there are memories to call our own, there can be no true loss. But Park Jimin has no such privilege. 

the dark side of the moon by @/dovechim s

↳ falling in love at first sight is cliche, not until it happens to you on a dark night in a lonely alley. but you’re only human, while Park Jimin is Alpha of his pack; it could never work out. so you resort to pining for him like a wolf howling at the moon, but when Jimin goes feral, that’s when everything changes. 

Unconditionally by @kstopping s a

↳ Jimin constantly torments you. But you love it.

Instinct by @evangelene f a

↳ A lost child appears into your life only to bring you closer Jimin–a man that you’d thought you’d hated once upon a time. Now all you want is to be there for the child, and maybe his father–but only if his mother gets the hell out of the way.

eternal sunlight by @kidguk f s a

↳ “college and soulmate au where the first words your soulmate will say to you are tattooed on your wrist. jimin thinks he met his soulmate exactly four months after he met and fell in love with you. you can’t explain your attraction or your feelings toward him, even though technically you’re meant to be with other people. taehyung and jungkook helpfully suggest that the universe might be glitching.”

foul play by @kimvtae f s a

↳ Everyone loves a good rivalry, and the students at your university are no exception. Unluckily for you, the rivalry of the decade is between yourself and a furiously irritating Park Jimin. A top gymnast and a basketball star shouldn’t cross paths, but Jimin makes his way into your heart before you can put a stop to it.

lost and found by @/kimvtae s a

↳ The only thing bigger than Park Jimin’s ass is his ego. After one too many scandals, after one too many mornings stumbling back to the dorms drunk or ruining the reputations of other idols, Jimin is given an ultimatum: complete a rehabilitation program in America or leave Bangtan.

if we were a movie by @/kimvtae f s a

↳ Friends with benefits never worked in the movies, but you and Jimin had been friends for so long, it was bound to work for you. Until, of course, Jimin gets a girlfriend, and you fear you may lose your friendship with him for good.

the pull of the tides by @goldenscript f s

↳ The expanse of the deep blue sea has always drawn you in. Each ebb and flow of the tides never ceasing to take your breath away. And now, a boy with hair as light as the morning sun and a smile just as bright does too. 

hard to say by @floralseokjin f s a

↳you've had feelings for your best friend Jimin for as long as you can remember, but you always thought they were unreciprocated. What if it turned out they weren’t...?

↬looking for pjm library or the other members check out my library

[buckets-and-trees]

hii i have a request this can be for Ransom or Andy

But imagine y/n and him are in an arranged marriage. y/n is doing everything she can for him to sign the divorce paper for examples smashing his cars, serving overly salty food, cutting his expensive clothes into pieces, disrespecting his workers, and spending his money on the most useful things (but if it ransom spending money at “low class” retail shops only bc I feel like he’ll hate that), etc.

instead of giving her a divorce, he just randomly starts acting like a romantic gentleman until the night ends he punishes her 🙊😈

I have to apologize for taking so long to answer this ask... and forgive me for not using all the inspo you dropped my way, but from the MOMENT I read this, I knew it was going to fuel something very specific for I'm Your Man Andy and his entrapped fiancé reader., and so I still needed to post it as an answer to this to give some credit where it's due. So even though it took months and months to get to here, this is the result.

Title: Don't Look Too Far

Characters/Pairings: soft!dark mafia Andy Barber x female!reader Word Count: 6.4k Summary: After jetting away with Andy for a week, you're back. The reality that this is going to be your life starts to settle in in very unsettling ways. And although Andy's taken so many liberties with you already, he finally crosses a line you didn't know was on the board.

Content/Warnings: violent behavior; spanking as punishment; emotional manipulation; explicit smut: nipple play, cock stroking, vaginal fingering, oral (female receiving), vaginal intercourse, unprotected sex; use of pet name (sweetheart), implied dacryphilia

Author Note: This is not a stand alone section! You can find the previous parts here.

Author Note 2: I've been sitting on this for a long time, and I'm excited to finally have it here to share with you. Some of you genuinely seem to love this awful Andy, and you'll like this chapter. Some of you kinda like him against your will and I think you'll like this chapter (cough @stargazingfangirl18 cough). Some of you loathe this man, and you might like at least a few things in this chapter (looking at @biteofcherry).

You are glad to get home from your whirlwind trip with Andy.

Everything had been stunning, luxurious, and beyond your wildest dreams in one of the places you’d been longing to go almost your entire life. Even Andy had been nearly wonderful and certainly subjected you to endless spoiling and copious amounts of exquisite sex.

He makes all of this so difficult.

The private jet touches down in the early afternoon, and Andy allows you to avoid him until dinner. One of the things he’d made clear was an expectation from day one was having dinner together. After dinner, he insists on taking you for a ride in his Aston Martin DBS 770 Ultimate Volante – not his only sports car in the gargantuan garage of his mansion, and not even the only Aston Martin. Though he gave you no choice in whether or not to join him, he doesn’t force conversation, merely lets you enjoy the scenic drive, occasionally holding your hand. Once home, he takes you to bed and gets you to scream out through two orgasms for him before he lets you rest in peace.

The next morning, you awake alone. Andy only invokes a little small talk in the kitchen, lets you know he’ll be taking a few meetings, places a kiss on the top of your head while you eat breakfast at the counter, and then leaves.

It is more room than you have been used to in the mornings, and you don’t question it. You are happy to have the Saturday to yourself.

Three days after Andy so decisively put his engagement ring on your finger, he put a black card in your wallet. Today you will break it in.

You start at a hair salon you have never been able to afford but that had been on the “essential” list of prenuptial rituals for some of the wealthiest brides you’d planned nuptials for. Having the long-standing relationship with the establishment to arrange appointments for your clients meant they were willing to fit you in last minute for the late morning.

You hold yourself back from doing anything drastic. You don’t want to give Andy the satisfaction of driving you to go for a new style. You leave more than a generous tip.

You get lunch at a small sandwich shop – one of your favorites. You choose a table with a view out one of the large windows. It’s nice to be in a familiar place, even with the presence of Shep watching out for the non-existent security threats.

After lunch, you ask Mark to drive you to the plant nursery you love.

You get everything you want, leaving no plant behind if it strikes your fancy. You buy lovely pots for all of them and never look at price tags. When you tap your card for the enormous bill, it’s with a self-satisfied smirk on your face.

Next you go to the nail salon. They are busy, as it’s Saturday afternoon, just as you knew they would be, but they say they can take you in an hour or less, and since you have no demands on your time, you’re more than fine waiting.

As it’s late summer, it really is too warm for the plants to stay in your car, so you insist on sending Mark home with the plants – you know better than to try to convince Shep to go with him. The man has made it clear he will not shirk his duty as the point man for the security Andy has assigned to you. He’s ever present, and you don’t give him a hard time – he’s only doing his job. Shep doesn’t like your suggestion, however, and instead calls someone from the house to come pick up your plants so neither of the men have to leave.

Once your pedicure and manicure are complete, you check your phone while you’re escorted to the SUV. Your mom has sent you a text.

MOM: Call me when you get a chance! I want to hear all about your trip!

You frown as you slide into the backseat.

How did she know?

Since being trapped and installed into the life of the mob boss, you’ve avoided getting together with any of your friends or family, phone calls, and any deep text conversations. It’s self-isolation, nothing mandated from Andy. But what would you tell them about your new circumstance? Forced into an engagement with a charming, handsome man who just happens to be a mobster with control issues you were sure you could never escape from? Not a subject you want to get anywhere close to.

You only hesitate for another moment before you hit the call button and place the phone to your ear as Mark starts your drive home.

“Hello, dear!” your mom’s voice is clear and full of excitement.

“Hi, Mom,” you reply, smiling despite yourself.

Your heart aches for the weeks it’s been since you two last spoke. You missed her voice. You’re close with both of your parents. Your job had kept you incredibly busy over the past five years, but you usually spoke with them at least once a week and made it out to their house in the suburbs once or twice a month.

“I got your text,” you say simply, not sure how else to begin.

“Yes!” she exclaims, her voice full of enthusiasm. “I want to hear everything about your trip! But first, we have to talk about Andy!”

She can’t see it, but your jaw drops. “Andy?”

“He made us promise not to say anything until after lunch today – and I’m sorry, it’s why I haven’t texted or called all week, I wasn’t sure I couldn’t NOT bring him up, but he told us everything! How you met–”

“Well, you know I planned that signature gala for him,” you interject, somehow needing to jump in to clarify that point.

“Of course, yes, but how he was so impressed by you but waited until the event was over before saying anything, how he couldn’t help moving so fast with you. When he reached out earlier this week to set up the lunch with your father and I, he said he wanted us to meet him without you there so that we could thoroughly vet him and judge for ourselves without worrying you, make up our own minds even though he was obviously hoping we would approve since you’re engaged, but he didn’t reveal that detail until today.”

“Oh,” your mind is racing. “Andy always seems to have something up his sleeve.”

She laughs. “I can only imagine! And things certainly developed quickly!”

“Yes…” your voice is thick with hesitancy, and you know you can’t hide it from her.

“But your father and I want you to know that while you don’t need our approval, you have it. We’re surprised, but we approve. He’s so clearly smitten with you, and we know you would never jump into an engagement like this unless you were sure. We trust you.”

You don’t know what to say.

“I would have told you and Dad about the engagement,” you say. You don’t know when you would have. You were still so freshly coming to terms with its reality and ramifications…

Now telling your parents about Andy is yet another thing he has stolen from you.

“We know! We were young once, too! I can only imagine how much that man must have swept you away!” she soothes and exclaims, her voice bright and beaming through the phone.

It makes your chest ache because if this had evolved without Andy’s constant control, it might have been like this, and you would have gushed and been giddy with your mom right now in this moment.

“Why don’t we get lunch tomorrow just the two of us?” you suggest, wanting nothing more than to talk to your mom, but desperately needing to get off the phone so you can regroup, clear your thoughts, and figure out what in the world you are going to be able and willing to tell her.

“I would love that! Where do you want to go?”

You quickly sort out details that you promise to confirm over text, say your goodbyes, and then you end the call. You set the phone on the seat, drop your head back, and shut your eyes, fighting back angry tears. You wouldn’t let them fall down your cheeks.

“Your mom sounds like a lovely woman,” Shep interrupts your thoughts.

The laugh that tumbles out of your mouth is short and underscores how ridiculous all of this is. “She is. She’s not perfect, but she’s the best and has the biggest heart,” you respond with a genuine smile.

“She passed it on to you,” he says, meeting your eyes briefly in the rear-view mirror.

“You two should probably meet her tomorrow,” you offer up.

“We look forward to it,” Mark chimes in.

That’s the end of the exchange, but it dawns on you that while these two men have been assigned to your personal security and transportation, and they’re work for Andy, they have been nothing but professional, and you can see now that while they’re not warm and soft, there is a degree of care from them that has developed or that you’re only now recognizing exists that does seem to go beyond being a paycheck for them. Mark is probably close to your age, and you would guess Shep is eight or ten years older. Both men wear wedding bands on their left hands.

Having to have them assigned to you, you’re grateful it’s these two seemingly good men.

You’re sure there could be much worse.

You’re quiet the rest of the ride home, but your mind doesn’t stop racing.

“Would you like to get out at the front of the house or in the garage, ma’am?” Mark asks as you near the house. He always asks because the house is so large it makes a difference.

The corner of your mouth lifts as you decide, “The garage, please.”

The garage is a drive in basement level on the southeast corner of the house and holds two dozen cars, including the black Range Rover designated for you. You wonder if you’d ever be allowed to drive a car of your own again.

More aware now of the men, you notice there is a degree of ease that settles particularly over Shep now that you’re safe in the house again. You wonder if that’s always been the norm or if there’s a higher threat potential than usual. The shift does clue you into the reality that Andy is involved in more dangerous things than you thought. Instigator or target, you don’t know which he is, but regardless he’s swimming in dangerous waters, and you’re tied to his fate now.

This is your life.

Would you have chosen it?

Would you have?

A month ago, before the gala, you had genuinely been taken with him, even thought of him as you went to bed, alone, a hand on your breast and a toy between your legs and imagined what it would be like to have him there dealing out your pleasure instead. You hadn’t thought any serious interest being reciprocated from even the faintest possibility.

You had been so wrong.

And he’s dealt more pleasure than you had ever experienced.

More pain as well.

He was mindful of your physical limits, even if he rode them mercilessly.

He failed to comprehend the gravity of the rest of the pain he caused.

And today he reached a limit you hadn’t been expecting.

You slide out of the backseat when Shep opens your door, and instead of heading for the staircase in the corner, you move to the south wall of the garage and start opening cabinets. Shep tracks your movements but gives you space.

In the second set, you find Andy’s golf clubs.

Perfect.

You test a few of the drivers, and when you’re satisfied you’ve got the heaviest in your hands, you pull it clean out of the bag and make your way directly to the car you’ve noticed Andy favors most.

His silver Aston Martin DBS 770 Ultimate Volante.

The very car he drove you around in last night.

You hold nothing back in your swings, cracking the glass with your second hit. The third doesn’t do much more damage, so you move to the metal body, and here’s where you see you will get at least some of your satisfaction, easier to create dents in the metal than breaking the windshield. You do manage to smash one of the windows. Then you round on the next car.

Neither Mark nor Shep move to stop you, but you do see Shep is on the phone briefly.

You guess that you won’t be alone for long, so you move to a third car. Andy arrives as you lay into the fourth car. You look over at him with apprehension, unsure of what his next move will be. He meets your gaze, surveys the damage you’ve done so far, looks back at you, and then takes up position leaning against the Range Rover.

You grit your teeth, then raise the club over your head and bring it down with a battle cry over the hood of the silver Porsche 911 Turbo. A fifth car bears the fire of your rage, and mid-swing on the sixth is when a someone finally grabs the other end of the iron. You scream in fury and turn to face Andy, who’s looming over you, his blue eyes dark, stormy, and his mouth a thin line.

You yank against the club, but his grip is firm. You don’t let go though, still trying to wrest it from his hands, eyes locked on his, and he uses the rod to pull you closer to him, nearly chest to heaving chest (yours, not his).

“That’s enough, sweetheart.” His fingers work yours away from the metal rod, and he clasps one of your hands in his to keep you close while - eyes on you - he tosses the club to Shep, who catches it easily.

You huff and try to pull your hand away, but he interlocks your fingers and then starts to lead you away and up the stairs. Not wanting to allow him seeing any petulance from you, you comply and follow him in silence. Adrenaline starting to taper off, you feel exhaustion seeping into your limbs, and part of you wonders if Andy knew you were reaching the end of your strength and stopped you before you would have lost steam on your own. Your stomach seethes.

Once on the main floor, you fall in step with him, not needing the staff to see anything that will make them talk. Some of them may be oblivious to why you’re here, but you know there are those who are aware at different levels that you aren’t here as the other half of a fairytale.

Your destination turns out to be the family dining room, not the formal one.

Dinner, of course.

He pulls your chair out for you, tucking it politely as you sit, and then takes his place across from you.

Sometimes you and Andy talk over dinner.

Tonight is not one of those nights.

If he’s going to be silent about today, say nothing more about your vandalism on arriving home, then you certainly are not going to stoke conversation. His eyes are on you frequently, but you ignore him.

Halfway through dinner and after taking a sip of wine, Andy finally says, “Your hair looks nice.”

You scoff. “As if you really noticed. Your men told you where we were.” You know it’s hardly changed.

Andy set his fork down. “Look at me,” he demands, tone serious, and so you comply. “They’re your men, and don’t make the mistake of thinking I will ever fail to notice a detail, especially when it comes to my wife.”

Your heart skips a beat - part fear, but part some flare in your heart that you hate reacting to his words. You raise your chin in defiance. “I’m not your wife.”

“Yet.”

Threat and promise.

As if the exquisite engagement ring whose heavy weight you were growing so used to weren’t a constant reminder.

Rather than think further on that, for the rest of the meal you consider his correction that Shep and Mark are your men when you’d said they were his. It was an interesting distinction, and you would put feelers out to ask about it later - not Andy, but maybe with the men.

When dinner is over, Andy stands and reaches for your hand. He always does. It’s unsettling because if only you had ever had a choice, the gesture would be endearing. A few nights over this month that you’ve been his, he kissed the back of your hand and left to attend to business. Some nights, he wanted to watch something with you before bedtime, or go on a drive like last night. Most often he takes you to the bedroom.

It’s the latter tonight.

You walk silently to the master suite together. Every muscle in your body is taught with tension, with the simmering rage and hurt of the day seething through your veins.

Andy closes the door and turns to face you.

“Do you want to tell me why you’re so upset before or after your punishment?”

“My - what?!” You glower and put your hands on your hips. “Why am I being punished? You let me smash two more cars before you even stopped me.”

“It’s not about the cars, it’s your refusal to talk to me about something that clearly has you worked up.”

“Worked up?” Your eyes widen and then narrow. “I’m not worked up, Andy, I’m infuriated.”

“Then tell me what crime I’ve committed.”

You scoff and turn away.

He catches you before you’ve taken two steps, gripping your upper arm. He hauls you toward the bed, takes a seat on the end of the mattress, and then lays you down over his lap. He takes both your wrists in his left hand and holds them firmly while his right hand pulls your pants down.

All of it happens so swiftly that you can’t even fight him, but you cry out when the first, harsh slap hits your bare ass. The sting is sharp and shocking. The second comes quickly after. You try to shake out of his hold, but he growls your name, tightens his grip, and the third slap comes even harder.

Four. Five. He kneads the flesh of your ass between some of the smacks. Eight. Fifteen. Twenty. Somewhere in the middle, the smacks morph into a swirl of simultaneous pain and numbness – a mirror of how you feel. You’re sobbing once he finally stops, body sagging in defeat over his lap. He lifts you carefully and lays you stomach down on the bed. You fold your arms and hide your face into the frame of them to cry and settle into softer cries, and Andy lets you have the moment of privacy.

It’s not long before you register Andy’s return though, his weight sinking onto the bed next to you. Then his hand is on your tender backside, applying a cold cream to your skin, and the relief makes you let out a shuddering sigh. He works it over you slowly, gently, methodically. By the time Andy’s finished, so are your tears. You’re still full of emotions, but they’re a swirling, complicated mess. You feel like the frustration has been spanked out of you, but you’re still hurt and angry, but now you’re also confused by this tender act. This only extends when he urges you to roll over, and sit up, and he kisses your forehead. You look up at him dolefully, he wipes away the remaining tracks of your tears. He’s shed his clothes from the day and is now bare-chested and in a pair of navy silk pajama bottoms. He proceeds to gently help you take off your shirt, your bra, and then slips you into a silk robe he’s brought from the closet.

Then Andy stands, scoops you up into his arms, and heads to the balcony of your master suite. He settles down onto the loveseat and arranges you in his lap so you’re sitting sideways over him, and he wraps his arm around you. It’s more of the confusing closeness, physical intimacy that you crave but can’t give into with him. It’s the first time you’ve been out here, and it affords a beautiful view of the darkening sky. Yet another thing you would have yearned for but don’t want like this.

“Are you ready to talk?”

“I don’t even know where to begin,” you say honestly.

He puts his hand under your chin and tilts your head up to look at him. “I’ll listen to anything you have to say.”

“But will you hear me?” You ask and turn your head away and out of his hand.

He smoothes his thumb over your jaw but - to your surprise - doesn’t force you to look at him as he had before. Instead he lets his hand drop and brings it around your waist so he’s got both arms banded around you again.

“You’ve taken so much from me, Andy. You’ve made it abundantly clear that I have no way out of this, but it’s been mounting and it came to a peak today. I had a day to myself, but I couldn’t bring myself to spend it with my friends or my parents because I can’t tell them about us! I haven’t spoken or texted any of them on more than a surface level since this all began. And I haven’t gone back to work yet, but I want to work, I need to work, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to tell them either!”

He is quiet for a moment. And then, “I knew you hadn’t told anyone, but why do you think you can’t tell them about us?”

“What am I supposed to say?” You scoff. “I can’t tell them that you threatened me with blackmail and forced me into our engagement!”

“No,” he agrees, “You can’t tell them that.”

“So, what am I supposed to tell them?”

“That you fell for my charms, that I surprised you when I declared my intentions and by how serious I was, that I made it almost impossible for you to refuse me. It’s enough of the truth.”

You frown and scrutinize his face. “Enough of the truth,” you repeat, the words tasting bitter in your mouth. “Is that how you always live your life?”

 He lifts his chin, a flash of hardness in his eyes. “I’ve done what I needed to.”

“You didn’t need to go behind my back to meet my parents!” You blurt, the hurt in your voice bleeding out despite trying to keep it in, to keep it away from him, not wanting to share something so personal.

“I want to have a good relationship with my in-laws. My mother’s dead and my father was sentenced to life in prison when I was a kid.”

“But they’re my parents,” you stress. “I should have been able to be the ones to tell them about getting married. You stole that from me.”

Andy studies your face quietly.

You drop your gaze. You won’t tell him why stealing this moment – more than anything else he’s done – was your breaking point. You doubt he would care or understand, but he also doesn’t get to know something so personal. He hasn’t earned that right.

“You love them,” he finally says.

You nod. “We’re very close.”

He falls silent again.

Finally, you give an exhausted sigh. “Why did you have to do this to us?”

“I wanted you.”

“I wanted you, too. You should have let us fall into it.”

“Fall now.”

“I can’t,” you protest, and you look up to argue further, but he’s faster, cutting you off with a kiss.

His lips are demanding, and the heat he pours into the kiss seeps into the cracks he’s been chipping away inside you, and your traitorous body leans into the moment. You’re exhausted physically and emotionally.

You don’t know how you can ever let yourself fall for him.

But as his hands soothe up and down your back, you wonder if you have to deny yourself everything for the rest of your life?

What if you fell into him for one night? Allowed yourself to let go, to forget for just a few hours? You are so tired. And your body aches. And after so much hurt, betrayal, and anger running high through your veins for so many hours now, after the shock and release from being put over his knee, maybe you just want to forget and get lost in pleasure.

Pleasure you know he was far too capable of giving.

Not only capable of giving, but master of overwhelming you with it.

After he’s stolen so much from you these last weeks, maybe you want and need to steal a night of ecstasy without any thoughts.

You shift on his lap, his arms still around you, until you’re straddling his lap. You leverage his broad shoulders to push yourself up on your knees, and you look down at him. You can’t read everything in his dark blue stormy eyes yet, but you can interpret some of what’s there. He’s intrigued and you can see the spark of hunger flaring, but there’s something else you can’t quite read.

But that doesn’t matter right now.

He doesn’t pull you in closer, but his arms hold you steady in your kneeling stance. You reach for the tie of your silk robe, and you slowly pull it loose.

“Tonight is not for you,” your voice is low, quiet, but not soft, “it’s for me.”

His eyes narrow a fraction, but as you shrug the silky garment off your shoulders, he helps let the robe fall free to the ground.

Andy’s eyes rake over your naked form, drinking in every curve and dip of your body. His hands glide up your sides, rough palms contrasting with the softness of your flesh. You shiver despite the warmth of the evening air.

You place your hands on his chest, feeling the solid muscles there. Your fingers trace the lines down to his abdomen, following the trail of dark hair that disappears beneath his waistband. You can feel the evidence of his arousal, and he groans, gripping your hips tightly, and you squeeze his length - big as the rest of him - the cock that has ruined you.

He leans in and his lips burn a trail down your neck, over your chest and find one of your breasts, nipping on the swell before licking at your aereola and taking it into his mouth. Your fingers rake into his hair, and he sucks insistently until your nipple is almost painfully hard. He releases it with a pop, then moves to give equal treatment to your other breast. You press your needy cunt down against his groin, keening for him.

You grind against him, and he can’t help but groan. In one fluid motion, he stands, lifting you with him. Your legs wrap tightly around his waist instinctively as he carries you back into the bedroom. He lays you down on the bed with surprising gentleness. He takes less than a second to push his pajama bottoms down and off before he joins you on the bed, his body covering yours.

His weight presses you into the mattress. You feel every inch of his hard body against yours, and you arch up, desperate for more contact. Andy's hand slides between your bodies, finding your slick folds. He groans when he feels how wet you are for him.

"Always so ready for me," he murmurs against your neck, nipping at the sensitive skin there.

You whimper as his fingers tease your entrance, circling but not entering. You buck your hips, trying to force him inside, but he pulls back with a dark chuckle.

"Patience, sweetheart," he admonishes.

But patience isn't what you want tonight. You want to lose yourself in sensation, to forget everything but the pleasure he can give you. You reach down and grasp his thick length, guiding him to your entrance.

He forces your hand away with a tsk, and you glare at him, but he is grinning, moving down your body already. He kisses the sensitive spot on your lower stomach, the one he discovered that always makes you gasp and arch your back for him. His shoulders force your legs open to accommodate his frame as he plants himself between your thighs.

Andy's mouth descends on your core, his tongue laving your sensitive folds. You arch into him, a moan escaping your lips. His beard scratches deliciously against your inner thighs as he works you over with his skilled tongue. He alternates between broad strokes and focused attention on your clit, building your pleasure steadily.

Your hands fist in his hair, holding him against you as you rock your hips. The coil of tension in your belly winds tighter and tighter. Just as you're about to topple over the edge, Andy pulls back, denying you release.

“Andy, please,” you beg.

Andy's breath ghosts over your sensitive flesh, making you shiver and whine. He places a soft kiss on your inner thigh, then another, slowly working his way back towards your center. You squirm, desperate for more contact, but his strong hands hold your hips firmly in place.

He chuckles, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure through you. "I thought this night was for you," he teases, his beard scraping deliciously against your thigh. "Let me take care of you."

Before you can protest, his tongue laves a long, slow stroke up your slit. You cry out, your back arching off the bed. He repeats the motion, this time circling your clit with the tip of his tongue.

Your hands fist in the sheets as Andy's talented mouth works you over. He alternates between long, languid strokes and quick flicks of his tongue, never letting you settle into a rhythm. Just when you think you can't take anymore, he slides two thick fingers inside you, curling them to hit that spot that he knows makes you see stars.

"Oh god, Andy!" you cry out, your hips bucking against his face.

He hums against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. His fingers pump in and out, matching the pace of his tongue on your clit. The dual sensations are overwhelming, and you feel yourself hurtling towards the edge.

"That's it, sweetheart," Andy murmurs against your flesh. "Let go for me."

His words are your undoing. Your orgasm crashes over you in waves, your body arching off the bed as pleasure overwhelms you. But he’s anything but finished.

Andy doesn't let up, his mouth and fingers working you through your orgasm and pushing you towards another peak. Your body trembles, oversensitive but craving more. You tug at his hair, torn between pulling him closer and pushing him away.

"Too much," you gasp, but he ignores your weak protest.

He adds a third finger, stretching you deliciously as he continues to lap at your swollen clit. The intensity builds rapidly, and before you can catch your breath, you're tumbling over the edge again. This time, Andy pulls away, allowing you a moment to recover.

He kisses his way up your body, pausing to nip roughly at your collarbone. When he reaches your mouth, he kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You moan into the kiss, your hands roaming over his broad back.

Andy positions himself between your thighs. You reach between your bodies and guide him to your entrance. You need him inside of you. He pushes in slowly, stretching you deliciously, filling you completely. You both groan as he slides in to the hilt, and you throw your head back. He stills there, kisses along your jaw, then gives a soft rock of his hips, rutting against you, but not thrusting.

“Move,” you plead, wrapping your legs around his waist to urge him on.

Andy leans down and claims your lips again, demanding the intimate kiss as his price, his tongue licking into your mouth to tangle with yours. He then sets a steady rhythm that has you moaning with each thrust. You buck your hips to draw him in with each stroke. The room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and your mingled moans of pleasure.

You drag your nails down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. He hisses, then retaliates by biting down on the juncture of your neck and shoulder. The sharp pain mixed with pleasure makes you cry out.

"Harder," you demand, needing more, needing to lose yourself completely.

Andy growls, his grip on your hips tightening as he complies with your demand. He pulls almost all the way out before slamming back in, the force of his thrust pushing you up the bed. You cry out in pleasure, your nails digging into his shoulders. He sets a punishing pace, each thrust driving you closer to the edge.

The headboard bangs against the wall with the force of his movements. Your walls clench around him, drawing a guttural groan from his throat.

"That's it, sweetheart," Andy grunts, his voice rough with exertion. "Take what you need from me."

You're climbing higher and higher, chasing that blissful peak. Andy snakes a hand between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit. He rubs tight circles over the sensitive bud, and it's too much.

You shatter, screaming his name as waves of pleasure crash over you. Your body convulses, clenching rhythmically around him. Andy fucks you through it, prolonging your orgasm until you're a trembling mess beneath him as he chases his own release.

It takes a few more strokes, and then he’s spilling his hot seed inside of you, groaning against your neck. He collapses his weight onto you for a few moments, catching his breath. Your hands roam over his back. If you had been given the chance to choose him, to choose this life, wrapped in his arms right now you would have felt blissfully content, and so since tonight was a pass on reality, you let a satisfied sigh fall from your lips.

Andy’s lips find yours again, and you kiss until you feel floaty and boneless beneath him, head empty of all thoughts.

When the fervency of the kisses finally slows into a languid calm, Andy finally rolls off of you. He reaches for the switch to turn off the soft lights that had been on, then settles on his side, facing you. He traces lazy patterns over your form with his fingers, and you close your eyes and simply feel.

You didn’t know you had fallen into sleep except that the motion of Andy pulling you into his chest so he can spoon up behind you pulls you back into consciousness. He chuckles softly at your little mewl, and then pulls you a little closer to his warm chest and plants a kiss on your neck, just below your ear. You settle against him without complaint.

You’re exhausted, and you don’t know where he finds the resilience, but his hand snakes down to cup your cunt again, and you hum as he begins to work your clit. You have no strength left in you, but if you don’t have to work for it and Andy’s going to give it to you, you’ve learned under his hand that he always knows how to coax out one more climax from you when you think you’re already spent.

Your breath speeds up again, and you can feel the promise of pleasure pulling at your muscles, tightening them for one final release.

As he works you quickly up to that point, he speaks directly into your ear. “You said tonight was for you, not for me. It’s the lie you needed to tell yourself to let go, and that’s fine, but know that your pleasure is always pleasure for me.”

And so unfairly, your body comes for him right then, exactly as he wants you to, and you cry out before going even more limp in his arms. He presses another kiss on your neck, and you can feel his satisfied smile against your skin. You desperately wish you could break out of his arms and roll away from him, but you do not have even an ounce of strength left, and so you simply let the exhaustion overtake you and escape from him in sleep.

You’re vaguely aware of how close Andy keeps you all night. Since he typically does, it’s a surprise when you wake to an empty bed. There is only a vague suggestion of sunlight beginning to come in the windows, so you know it’s still incredibly early. The sheet is down around your waist, and you splay your arm out to where Andy should have been. The bed isn’t cold, but there’s only a hint of warmth, so you know he’s been up for a while.

As if unnervingly on cue, Andy comes in from the ensuite bathroom and hums at seeing you awake. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

He strides right up to the edge of the bed, leans down, and plants a kiss on your cheek, then rubs his hand softly over your jaw.

“Morning,” you respond.

You hate how lovely this scene should be. Your heart wants it, but your brain reminds you not to accept this contrived intimacy he pretends is real and normal.

He crosses the room and retrieves his phone, starts to put on his watch, the finishing touches before he embarks on his day.

“You can sleep in,” he says softly.

“Why are you up so early? It’s Sunday.”

“Early tee time at the country club,” he answers.

You make a vague sound of acknowledgement and pull the sheet and duvet back up to burrow in for a lazy morning of more sleep and maybe some reading.

“Enjoy lunch with your mom, by the way,” he says at the door. “I’m teeing off with your father, so I’ll persuade him to have lunch with me to give you two time as just mother and daughter.”

You suck in a sharp breath and he departs, dropping this revelation, and leaving you to seethe at his making yet another bold move, seeping steadily further into the foundations of your life.

SO

YEAH

Still with me here?

Even though I figured out the plot point for this chapter a while back, when I wrote it, I had to take a break a few times because I was upset over how some things were playing out.

I was also surprised by some of the development with her security detail of Mark and Shep. I randomly made them up really quickly during Prepare for Takeoff, but then here I learned they were going to end up being even more important than I thought (including something key for two specific future plot points).

next part: Burned Off the Haze

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[kingkatsuki]

— miscommunication

Based on this silly little post I made here. With inspiration from @/oooohno💕 basically Sakura can’t fathom anyone could ever like him like that.

Pairing: Sakura Haruka x f!reader.

Warnings: none, a little angsty, Sakura is bad at feelings.

Word Count: 2.9k.

You always feared getting your heart broken someday, you just hadn’t imagined it would happen like this. Sakura had always been kind to you, ever since you’d been introduced to him through Tsubakino. It was one of the many reasons why you found yourself falling for him. It had been impossible not to, and you’d spent the majority of the time working up the courage to finally ask him out. Convinced by the fact that Tsubaki had guaranteed he would say yes.

“He’d be a fool not to like you,” He said, glancing at you through his reflection in the small compact he carried with him. Giving you a reassuring wink as he applied a fresh layer of engine red lipstick, “You won’t know unless you try.”

But maybe you were the biggest fool of all because you definitely hadn’t expected Sakura Haruka to leave you standing alone in the middle of the park wearing a pretty sundress. An excruciating pain ruminated beneath your ribcage as you tried to fight back the ache of rejection.

The first step had been the most difficult— working up the courage to ask for his number. It seemed awkward to ask for it straight up, but you also didn’t want to just get it off Tsubaki in case it crossed any unspoken boundaries. So you decided it might be easier to give him yours, writing it down onto a napkin from Kotoha’s restaurant one morning while you waited for her to pour your coffee. Before slowly sliding it across the bar to Sakura, who was shovelling omelette rice into his mouth. His pink cheeks bulged with food as he skimmed the note, looking up at you with a frown.

“If you don’t want to, it’s okay.” You smiled softly as you thanked Kotoha for the coffee, walking out through the door into the warm morning sun.

If he didn’t want to what? Sakura thought to himself as he scanned your number on the white napkin. Why did you give him your cell phone number? Sakura pondered the reasons as he continued to shovel the warm egg omelette rice into his mouth. You could want to hang out as friends, but you’d never showed any indication of wanting to do so prior. Or perhaps you were looking for protection, although that didn’t make sense when you were so close to Tsubaki who was a force to be reckoned with alone.

You didn’t need protection— so what if you’d given him your number so you could fight? It made the most sense to Sakura. It had to be why you stared at him each morning when you came in for your coffee, almost as if you were sizing him up with expectation, and today was the day you’d decided to extend the invitation. He waited until he’d finished his plate before fishing his cell phone out of his pocket to send you a text message.

Even after Kiryu had added Sakura to a Furin group chat all those years ago, Sakura was never the best at texting. He tests the words against the screen as he debates how to properly respond. Backspacing until he finally settles on a simple, yet concise answer and he hits send.

Sakura[9.49AM]: I want to.

He wasn’t entirely sure what he was agreeing to, but it had to be some sort of fight. He’d never trained with you before, so it couldn’t be that. And if you were friends with Tsubaki-chan, perhaps you enjoyed fighting too.

You[9.53AM]: hi! I’m glad you texted, I wasn’t sure if you actually wanted to go or not but I’m glad you do!!! Honestly, it’s made my day :)

Sakura reread the text twice, just to make sure he understood what you meant. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to go— so you were looking for a fight.

Sakura[9.55AM]: When?

He texts back, glancing at the screen as he notices the three little dots appear at the bottom to signal you are typing back.

You[9.57AM]: Meet me in the park by the swings at 7pm :)

Sakura read the text three times with a frown— 7pm. So you really did want to fight him? That would surely be the only reason you wanted to meet so late.

It felt like a shame to fight you, especially when your face is so pretty. Sakura feels his cheeks flush at the thought as he pictures that same sweet smile you give him each day when he sees you enter the restaurant to order your usual coffee to go, while he tries to hide his face in his omelette rice.

But you’re best friends with Tsubaki-chan so you must be strong, and maybe that’s the reason why you’ve chosen to fight him. And he’s never one to back down, and you’ve set the stage now so he has no choice but to agree. Sending back a single word as his fingers glide across his phone screen.

Sakura[10.00AM]: Yes.

Sakura isn’t sure how he’s supposed to prepare for this, or if he even needs to. He’s never seen you fight before, although he’s certainly seen you mad. Your soft hands balled into tight fists as you warned off a guy for getting a little too close, so close in fact that even Sakura was decidedly about to jump in— until you managed to get him to back off and leave.

Okay, maybe you were strong—

He doesn’t know anything about your fighting technique, or the way you hold yourself. Wondering whether you have a similar style to Tsubaki, and that’s why you’re so close? But he’s friends with Suo and Nirei and they don’t fight like him, so maybe that doesn’t make sense, he frowns. He’s known you for a while, and this is the first time you’ve shown any indication you want to fight, so now he’s started to overthink everything. Contemplating how he’ll be able to get the upper hand— or what spoils will be offered to the victor?

He makes sure he’s early, arriving at the park ten minutes before your scheduled fight with his hands bundled into fists inside his jacket pockets. But he’s surprised to see you already there and waiting, his roaring heartbeat catches in his throat at the sight of you as he almost forgets to breathe—

You’re sitting there waiting wearing the prettiest dress Sakura thinks he’s ever seen. A flowy sundress that hugs your curves in all the right places, embarrassed when his eyes are instantly drawn to the cleavage that spills out of the top. Your bare skin has a dull throb pounding at the back of his head as though he’d just been sucker punched as he wonders whether he’s still standing or how you’re this strong.

The moment he first saw you, he remembers a word that Suo had taught him to describe things like this— and he reckons that’s exactly what you are. Ethereal.

His cheeks burn a fiery red as he risks a glance further down, the soft material of the dress stops just above your knee as he follows the path of your legs to see your feet encased in pretty wedge sandals that strap around your ankles. There was no way you’d come to fight like this— in fact, he couldn’t fight you like this, could he?

“Hey.” You notice him staring as you stand up to walk towards him, and Sakura is certain that he won’t be able to land a single hit when the scent of your perfume surrounds him.

“W-what are you wearing?!” He shouts, despite the fact you’ve come to stand in front of him and it takes you aback.

The same insecurities begin to shroud you as they did when you were preparing to meet him. Standing in front of your full-length mirror as you tried on various outfits until you came to settle on this one, almost deciding against it at the last minute before you checked the time and noticed if you didn’t leave you might be late.

“Oh— you don’t like it, do you?” You fiddled with the strings at the front of the dress that were tied into a pretty, thin bow. Sakura’s eyes couldn’t look away as they followed the movement, noticing your pretty painted nails before he found himself staring at the hint of skin that peeked out of the top of the dress, “I knew I should’ve worn the other dress, it’s not quite as light as this one. God, I feel stupid.”

One of the thin straps was dangerously close to falling down your shoulder, and now Sakura wasn’t even sure he’d be able to land a single punch. This had to be some kind of distraction technique.

“You can’t fight in that!” Sakura raises his arm in an accusatory point, trying to stop himself from shaking and showing any signs of fear as he tries desperately to tame the fierce blush that streaked across the apples of his cheeks.

“I can’t fight in this?” Sakura despised how adorable you looked when you cocked your head to the side with your words, his heart banging like a marching band as he thought about his initial statement— maybe he was foolish for thinking you couldn’t fight in this.

When he’d watched Tsubaki fight, he’d always notice men that would get distracted from his short skirts and heeled boots— was this what you were trying to do to him now? Was this your plan all along?

“It’s—” He tries to get the words out, but it’s difficult when you look so cute, “It’s not— it isn’t—”

“It isn’t what?” You take a small step closer and the sudden movement had his fight or flight instinct kicking in as Sakura turned to run. Escaping in a hasty sprint as he left you standing alone in the park, the sun slowly falling over the horizon.

You try to ignore the ache in your chest when Sakura turns to run, wondering why he’d even bother to show up at all when he was going to reject you anyway. But then you suppose that’s one of the reasons why you even like him in the first place— he’s way too thoughtful and considerate of others. That’s probably why he didn’t want to reject you over text, and he’d come to tell you face to face.

Trying to stop the tears from falling as pearlescent droplets collect in your thick lashes to blur your vision, blinking them back you pull out your phone to rest Tsubaki. The first text sitting at the top of your phone is still your message chain with Sakura as you reread the “Yes” he’d sent you hours earlier. You were so stupid.

It’s the first fight Sakura has ever run from in his twenty-two years, and he hates himself for it. Hates that you managed to win on pure tactics alone as he makes his way back to the restaurant to find his friends.

His chest is heaving when he finally makes it through the door, knocking the wood so hard it almost flies off its hinges as wild eyes search for his friends. Thankful they seem to be the only people inside as he makes a beeline for them, his two-toned hair now windswept and pushed back from his forehead as it sticks up in all directions.

“You’re back quick?” Kiryu notes, his thumb pauses on his screen to take note of Sakura’s dishevelled appearance.

“Did she stand you up?” Nirei asks, concerned.

“No.” Sakura deadpans, still standing by the table despite there being a free seat in front of him as he leans his weight on the balls of his feet.

“You stood her up?” Kiryu locks his phone and places it down on the table as he raises a questioning brow, “That’s really not how to treat a girl, Sakura. I thought you—”

“I went there!” Sakura shouts, louder than necessary inside the small cafe as his hands ball into fists on either side of him.

“What happened?” Suo asks calmly, trying to diffuse the situation, but there’s a curious lilt to his tone.

“S-she was there.” Sakura tries to work out how to explain what happened, as his nose scrunches pensively.

“Okay? So that’s good, right?” Nirei smiles.

“She was wearing a dress!” Sakura is loud, immediately regretting his volume as the heat rising inside his body starts to become uncomfortable. Slouching down to sit beside Suo as he mumbles, “You can’t fight in a dress—”

“Girls can fight in anything,” Kiryu smiles, as Sakura looks across the table at him. So you did want to fight? “But I don’t think that’s what she had in mind.”

Oh. So if you didn’t want to fight him, then what else did you want?

“Well, where is she now?” Suo questioned, and Sakura answered for him with a sheepish look paired with a deep pink blush all the way down to his shoulders, “You left her in the park?”

“Wait— on her own?” Nirei continued, “Why would you do that?”

And somehow it sounded worse when his best friend put it like that. Sakura hadn’t left you alone, or at least he hadn’t meant to. You were there alone before he’d even got there, almost like he’d just stopped in passing. You were fine—

“She was wearing a dress!” Sakura repeated with an angry rasp to his tone.

“Sakura, you messed up.” Kiryu starts laughing playfully, shaking his head, “You’re gonna have her and Tsubaki-chan mad at you now. I can’t believe you did that to her— the poor girl.“

“What?!” Sakura baulks, “But she’s the one that text me!”

Sakura never wanted to fight you, why would he? You were far too pretty— too delicate to be subjected to that. He didn’t want to think about you fighting anyone, the thought alone had that same strange feeling bubbling in his tummy as he pictured you coming out of the fight hurt. That same seated desire inside him burning red hot at the thought— Sakura is certain he’d fight to the death to protect every single inch of you, to stop any harm from coming to you.

“What do you think it means when a girl gives you her number?” Sakura sat back beside Suo as he pondered the question.

The only phone number he had stored in his phone outside Bofurin friends and Togame from Shishitoren was Kotoha, and that was because she’d grabbed his phone the same day he’d given it to Kiryu. But Sakura didn’t mind so much because she always brought him food. But he didn’t think that’s why you’d given your number to him, was it?

“Iunno.” He mumbled gruffly, his lips curling into a pout, “That she wants to fight.”

Tsubaki-chan had texted him to spar all the time, it wouldn’t be weird to think you’d do the same.

Kiryu shot Suo a look as he gave his friend a soft smile, before trying a different approach. It was clear after knowing him for so many years, that Sakura was inexperienced in things outside the reemits of fighting.

“Have you never found a girl pretty before, Sakura-kun?” Suo asks,

“Shaddup!” Sakura snaps swiftly, already feeling a dangerous heat rise inside him— but it’s at that same moment where he really ponders the question.

Kotoha is pretty, he supposes. Thinking back to the first time he met her when she offered him a warm plate of food with a kind smile, remembering the heat that plumed inside him that followed her kindness as Sakura found himself coming back to her.

Sakura is certain he thinks Tsubaki is pretty too, although none of them seem to compare to how he feels about you. The incessant pounding of his heart against his rib cage at the mere thought of you, your saccharine perfume makes him feel dizzy and yet he hates when you’re not around so he has to remember the way it smells. The sound of your laughter causes more than just a subtle warmth inside him like Kotoha, it's more like a blazing inferno that courses through his veins like molten lava that’s impossible to extinguish. And the way you manage to fluster him without even being there— he’s constantly thinking about your face before he falls into a dreamless sleep, and waking up to wonder what you’re doing right now.

Tsubaki would probably think he’s foolish for thinking you couldn’t fight in a pretty sundress with sandals when he fights in a skirt and heels all the time. Maybe it would give you some kind of advantage, a way to get the upper hand. The sandals wedge gave you a slight height advantage sure, but would that be enough to beat him?

“Are you listening, Sakura?”

“Yeah.” He pushes his chair out with a harsh screech against the hardwood floor as he moves to leave, frantic in his search for you as he hopes you’re still standing where he left you.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

L&DS Boys: Suspected Smut | 18+

Eeeeeeey my first written request for this blog homies! The request was asking for a scenario with the boys where they walk in on the reader either reading or writing a smutty novel that's based off their myths. Also make it crack. So here we go. I'm going to post a small, separate one later that has a Zayne attempt (had to write his twice) since I managed to make it slightly angsty somehow and it was such a stark contrast when read with the other two boys.

♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Warnings: Erotica Novels, Teasing, Crack Treated Seriously, Suggestive Scenarios, Mentions of Monster Fucking, Dark Romance Mentions, Reader ♡(ᓀ‸ᓂ)♡ Pairings: Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Xavier x Reader

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

“What are you reading?” The voice made you scream as you slammed the book you had out shut. Your heart racing as you turned to Xavier in shock. He seemed just as surprised as you, his eyes now wide as though he had been the one caught doing something he shouldn’t.

“Words.” You said with a shrug. Now Xavier was curious, trying to see what you were reading. You hid the book behind your back and cleared your throat, “Seriously, it’s nothing important.” You tried convincing him.

He stared at you for a minute longer, then his posture relaxed. “If you really don’t wish to tell me, I won’t pressure you.” Xavier looked away dejectedly and oh goodness does it make you feel bad when you see him like that. Those pouty little eyes of his made your heart beat without fail, and they were now trained on the floor as he was prepared to leave you alone.

You let out the longest, most annoyed groan as you took the book out again. Xavier perked up, looking to see what it was. He read the title “A Luminous Lover”, his face was confused as he flipped it around to read the description. As his eyes skimmed the back recognition seemed to finally cross him.

Xavier turned to you, “Are you reading a romance novel involving Lumiere?” He said and you sighed, glad that the back of the book didn’t have anything too explicit on it. 

You sucked in your lips and nodded your head, “Ya, ya I am.” Your voice cracked a bit as you said this. Xavier seemed to be perplexed, his eyes shining in confusion and hurt. You then watched in horror as he opened the book up to read a bit.

He opened it to a random page, however with the contents of the book you just knew there was a 50/50 chance he’d see it. With how his eyes widened and mouth opened slightly, you knew he had found a scene, “You’re reading an…erotic novel about Lumiere.” He corrected himself.

You let out another groan, “Fuck, fine, yes I am.” You said, going to grab the book, “You can’t blame me for wanting to be railed by Lumiere on a rooftop while he tells me how I’m being so good for him and absolutely destroying me until all I can do it moan is name several times and cry while looking at the stars because it feels so good!” You said all in one breath, panting at the end of your long sentence.

Xavier stood shocked for a moment before smirking, “Then why read a book about it?” He asked, his eyebrow going up as he looked down at you, “You have something better at home, there’s no need to read this.”

You whined a bit, “But consider some of these things are downright impossible or…not plausible I should say. Things that can only happen or are acceptable in a novel like this.” You tried explaining. You managed to finally snatch the book from him and held it to your chest.

“We won’t know if it’s impossible until we try.” Xavier said, his hand ghosting over your waist now.

“You gonna put on the Lumiere costume?” You finally asked and he seemed to be almost offended.

“You'd rather be in Lumiere’s bed?” He asked, looking away.

“Xavier, you adorable dork, you are Lumiere.” You huffed, “And it’s called roleplaying. You’d be playing the role of Lumiere, and I’d be playing the role of a whore who worships your dick. Sound good?”

Xavier took a moment and just shook his head, “You truly are something else, starlight.” He said as he pulled you closer, “I won’t put on the costume, however if you’d like to be railed on a rooftop while staring up at the stars, I’d be more than happy to make that fantasy come true.” He said, leaning closer to you. You let out a small whimper as his mouth pressed a kiss against your neck.

“Fine…but later tonight. I wanna finish this chapter.” You said and Xavier huffed. He grabbed the book out of your hand and you watched in horror as he tossed it.

“No, perhaps I should give you a preview of tonight. It’ll be far more enjoyable than a book.” Xavier grumbled. Oh you adored this man, even if he did get jealous of himself in book form.

Zayne

“Might I ask what you’re writing, my beloved?” You paused for a moment at hearing his words, your head slowly turning to him. Your laptop was on the bed while you sprawled out, typing away like you didn’t have a care in the world. Your now wide eyes stared at your boyfriend, who had clearly been reading what was on your screen.

“Well…you see.” You started before realizing something, “Okay ya I have no defense for this. You’re not allowed to judge me though. You love me.” You pointed at him sternly then looked back at your writing. You went to close your laptop, but Zayne’s hand prevented that.

“You never answered my question.” He said and you groaned, wanting to crawl into a hole and die. You looked at him with a small pout, hoping he would give up questioning you. It didn’t work this time as he waited for an explanation.

You let out an annoyed groan, “Okay so like…I had an idea about a serial killer, but like he’s a good guy who dresses in all black and like kills for a good cause. And uuuuuh…” You said, thinking about what had initially sparked this. You had seen a yandere in a show and you had thought ‘But what if Zayne?’ which led to you writing this. The main character was based on Zayne, clearly. Hopefully he didn’t catch onto that though.

“And all that led to…this scene on your screen?” Zayne said, motioning to your writing. Honestly you hadn’t even gotten to the steamiest part yet. You had only started your debauched writing.

“Okay maybe I wanna get railed by a man who’s a lil scary and not very expressive but also will kill if someone looks at me wrong. It’s just a fantasy. If it were real life no way in hell would this be fine, but the thought of a hot man breaking into my window and then fucking me into the mattress is just so…sexy…” You trailed off from your rambles, looking at Zayne then to the floor.

Your dear boyfriend, in his defense, managed to recover from your small confession pretty fast as he looked at you. “That’s truly what goes through your head?” He finally asked and you swallowed a lump in your throat.

“I mean…sometimes…” You finally said. You noticed there was a conflicted look in Zayne’s eyes, almost like he was realizing something in the deep recess of his mind. He just shook his head, shoving whatever thoughts or memories he had as he approached you.

“And this type of situation, you’d only ever want it in a fantasy setting, correct?” He asks, as though making sure there was some semblance of sanity left in you.

“Obviously. If someone actually broke through my window I’m waking you up to deal with them.” You said, crossing your arms. You could see the small, subtle twitch of a smile on Zayne’s face.

“Even if in the fantasy I’m the one breaking through the window?” He asked and you paused. You looked at him suspiciously.

“Why would you think it was…you I was writing about?” You murmured. Zayne walked over to you, pinning you in place by putting his hands on either side of your thighs as he leaned in.

“I shouldn’t have to remind you that you named the male lead after me. I can see my name on your screen.” He paused, “Along with other things.” He said and you didn’t know if you should feel bashful or turned on at the moment…perhaps both.

“Well,” You cleared your throat, “since you know.” another quick pause as you fluttered your eyelashes, “Hey Zayne, I’m having some trouble writing this scene.” You said, trying to give him a cutesy expression.

“And?” He murmured, getting closer to you.

“Think you could give me a helping hand at…testing out a few positions and kinks to see if they’d work. For inspiration of course.” You said, your hands trailing his shirt until they got to his tie. You played with it as you looked at him with needy eyes.

“Thought you said they were only good for fantasies, why would you want to play out a scene?” He teased and you chuckled.

“Well sir, perhaps some things don’t have to remain a fantasy.” You said, tilting your head. You gasped as you felt Zayne’s lips on yours, pressing closer but before he could leave you breathless, Zayne parted.

“I do apologize, I have something important I need to do.” He said and you huffed, feeling like you got doused in cold water suddenly. There was always something.

“What do you need to do?” You bitterly said, pouting at you gave him a half assed glare.

“I need to call a psychologist for you, snowflake.”

You paused, gathering your thoughts but there were none, “Um why?”

“Because I’m fairly certain you need help psychologically. You realize you shouldn’t be placing guns-” You cut Zayne off by covering his mouth.

“I hate you…” You muttered. You felt his lips kissing the palm of your hand with amusement swimming behind those hazel eyes.

“And I adore you…most of the time.”

Rafayel

You almost screamed when you felt cool, wet lips kissing the back of your neck. You clutched your phone to your chest, your cheeks warm as you looked behind you to see Rafayel. He was smirking, looking you over; he was clearly proud at having startled you.

“Raf…” You warned, but the man in question just threw his hands up in mock surrender.

“I do apologize, my dear bodyguard, but I feel like you shouldn’t be so distracted when you have a job to do. If I was able to sneak up on you, imagine what could happen to me.” He said, placing a hand over his chest.

“Rafayel, we are in your art studio. In the middle of the day, no less.” You point out, “I think you’re safe.”

“You never know, what if someone breaks in and kidnaps me while your nose is in your phone?” He was pouting as he then looked at said object being clutched to your chest, “What ended up distracting you? It wouldn’t be anything naughty, now would it? The blush on your cheeks are telling.” Now he was just teasing you.

“It’s important stuff…research if you will.” You said and now he seemed even more intrigued.

“What are you researching?” He asked and you bit back a blush, willing your body and the gods to help it go away. 

“Stuff.” You murmured. This wasn’t doing it for Rafayel as he looked down at you with a frown.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll just assume you were up to no good.” He said, leaning closer to you, “The only way to prove your innocence is to tell me, my pearl.”

You let out a groan and averted your eyes; you didn’t want this man to see the guilty admission in them. After all, your fish boy was right. You were up to no good, reading ‘naughty things’ as he so eloquently put it. Apparently you were silent for a moment too long though, because you felt his hands trailing up your sides and under your shirt.

Before you could ask him what he was doing, he pinched your hips hard. You let out a yelp, and at the moment the grip on your phone loosened enough for Rafayel to steal it from you. When you saw it, you flushed and tried to swipe it back, “Rafayel, you bastard man, give that back!” You hissed.

Sadly the man knew your password and he was soon looking at exactly what you were reading. A small story about a sea god…that happened to be extremely explicit with some monster elements to it. Rafayel’s face went from curiosity to burning red in an instant.

“You were reading naughty things!” He accused; you let out a groan, trying again to swipe your phone back. He wasn’t done though as he continued, “Wait…is that even possible? And he only has one? Now this certainly isn’t lore accurate.” He teased with a large, toothy grin.

“Rafayel, stop teasing me. Am I not mortified enough?” You said before pausing, “Wait…what do you mean he only has one?” You said and Rafayel seemed to realize his mistake. His eyes widened and he sucked in his lips for a moment as he tried to think of a way out of this.

“Raffie, do you have two dicks in your other form?” You said, your eyes twinkling. You guys hadn’t slept together while he was like that since it was such a rare treat for you to even view his other form. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

“Wait, you’re into that?” Rafayel finally asked after realizing what you said.

“Babes, if I knew I could be a double stuffed oreo with you, I would’ve been begging you to take me in your fish form more so than I already do.” You said, not bothering to stop your language. Rafayel choked on air at your confession and tried to regain himself.

“Double stuffed oreo?” He echoed, “I don’t think I have ever heard someone say that in such an unsexy way.” 

“Is that a challenge?”

“No, it absolutely isn’t…wait, so were you researching…” He began but you were already willing to give him an answer.

“Wanted to figure out what positions might work best, so I was researching. Plus the male lead described in this book sounds like you so it was pretty easy to put myself in the place of the main character…which by the way do you think you could fuck me in the ocean while doing the little mermaid rock pose and calling me a-”

“That’s enough.” He said, and noticed you attempted to speak once more, “Ah ah ah.” He chided, “Not. A. Single.” He leaned closer, “Word.”

To which you replied with a moan.

I hope you guys enjoyed this! It's dumb and fun! I enjoyed writing it (tbh I've been wanting to write it but gah so many things to write, so little time)

[bengiyo]

Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo: We Are So Fucking Back

I am glad that we are all having a normal one in reaction to Hwang Da Seul's latest project (@chicademartinica, @dropthedemiurge, @shortpplfedup, @lurkingshan). I'm still meditating on the whole affair, but for now want to get into how Hwang Da Seul feels so compassionate to closeted men, and how I also am stuck on the removal of the cross (@my-rose-tinted-glasses).

Shan already linked back to The Knowing, and I keep thinking about how rare it is to see two boys who've already come to an understanding of themselves meeting each other, and also including a bully who knows himself. What stands out for me with Hwang Da Seul is how old the pains weighing on her characters feel each time.

Dohee has suffered the abuse of his father, abandonment of his mother, and dissolution of his closest friendship, and he's just pushing through to leave all of this. His pain is obvious and lived in. He doesn't have to sit around moping exclusively about how he feels, because it's ever present. Like anyone else living with chronic pain, you just have to do stuff while hurting a lot of the time.

Juyeong is so fascinating to me because his exuberance and passion makes it almost impossible to hide who he is, and I will always be a sucker for the characters who love so loudly that you can't turn it off. I also keep thinking about how he has been communicating his attraction through his eyes so often, and how he's made desire known through all of his careful flirting.

The building romance between them hits for me most because they're paying attention to each other. Dohee made food that he realized Juyeong would like, is careful about hurting him in their sparring matches, and went for the ice cream that Juyeong said he wanted. Juyeong heard Dohee say he wanted to see snow, and so he made snow for him!

Now, back to that cross. Rose's post and one @benkaben posted have been rattling around in my head for hours. We know that Juyeong's mom is a pastor, and that he's being sent here as essentially conversion therapy (as Shan already pointed out). It's not just that he takes the cross off before confessing, which clearly shows that he's setting everything associated with that aside. It's that he's also confessing through a wall. It's such a small detail in how you can set aside the weight of responsibility and guilt associated with your queerness, but you don't lose the cultural touchstones: for some Christians (I was raised Catholic) you confess your signs through a mild layer of anonymity by putting some sort of wall or separation between you and the priest. There's something so subversive about having Juyeong set down his cross but still confess his feelings like a Christian.

I am also curious where Hyeonho will feature in the rest of this story. It's clear that he and Dohee felt something between each other at some point, and that Hyeonho ran from it. He doesn't want Dohee to get hurt too badly, and he's observing the growing relationship between Dohee and Juyeong. I'm so happy this character exists, because it gives us three characters struggling with the pressures on them to be a certain way. If we had to have a character who will make ugly choices around that, it helps for it not to be part of the main pair, and it also shows that these boys have not been the only queers around that they knew of.

Finally, let me just thank Hwang Da Seul for not being precious about the kissing. I like that their first proper kiss was their second kiss, and I like that it was awkward. I loved them false starting multiple times, trying to make sure they weren't observed too closely (considering their history), and I like that they built back to it. I know that kissing early means we're in for much pain, but it's so nice to have a show not dance around the kissing, or have it be especially mild. I like when two boys like each other and go for it.

I'm so happy that Hwang Da Seul is back. Every time I watch her shows I feel like I'm talking to someone who understands what the inside of the closet looks and feels like. I always feel seen by her in a way that feels gentle. She lets me remember how scary and ugly all of that was without it being a triggering or jarring experience. Peak drama season is upon us, because we're also about to get Love in the Big City in just three days. See you all on the other side.

[k0juki]

heyyyy!! trying my luck here😅

imagine a smoker!joost x non smoker!reader hanging out or smth, and joost just had a cigarette and tries to kiss the reader but since they don’t like the smell or taste of it they don’t give him a kiss😭😭😭 and then he gets all sad and starts pouting and the reader just giggles and stuff😭 just a lot of cuteness and fluff💗

also ps! you’re literally my favorite author who writes for joost!!!

A/n: someone is lucky🤞🍀 and that's you anon🫵

Kisses and cigarettes

Joost Klein x fem!reader

English is not my first language, so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors! Also the picture is not mine. Credit goes to owner!

Wc: 452

---

Joost leaned against the railing, a cigarette held loosely between his fingers as he took a drag, letting the smoke curl up into the evening sky. It was a long day for him, but you were here to help him with anything, and he was glad.

The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over everything, and he couldn't help but think how perfect the moment was. His eyes flicked over to you, sitting on the porch swing, a soft smile playing on your lips as you watched him.

With a final drag, Joost stubbed out the cigarette on the railing and made his way over to you. He could see the way your nose wrinkled slightly, a sure sign you weren't a fan of the lingering smell. But he hoped maybe this time you'd let it slide.

"Hey." he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. You turned your head the last second, and his kiss landed on your cheek instead. "Joost, you know I don't like the smell." you said, trying to keep the teasing out of your voice. Just messing with him a bit.

He pulled back, eyes wide and a pout already forming on his lips. "But... I missed you." he said, his voice taking on a whiny edge that made your heart melt a little. He looked so crestfallen, like a puppy who'd just been told no.

You couldn't help but giggle at his expression, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "Oh, Joost, you're adorable when you pout." you teased, pressing a kiss to his forehead instead.

He huffed, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away, though the corners of his mouth twitched upwards. "It's not fair." he muttered. "I just wanted one little kiss."

You laughed outright then, the sound bright and musical in the evening air. "Well, you can have as many kisses as you want." you stated, "as long as you don't smell like an ashtray."

Joost's pout deepened for a moment before he finally cracked a smile, his eyes softening as he looked at you. "Fine, fine," he said, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against yours. "I guess I'll just have to brush my teeth and freshen up for you."

You giggled again, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down onto the swing beside you. "Now that sounds like a plan." you said, resting your head on his shoulder. "Besides, I love you more when you smell like you and not smoke."

He sighed contentedly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I love you too," he murmured. "Even if you are a bit of a kiss tease.”

---

A/n: sorry I wasn't here xdd I had finals, but now I'm free and ready to start writing again! Also my last post "Wolf in sheep's clothing" I spent so much time on it and I would love to if you give it try...:))🩷🩷

[shirefantasies]

Hi 🍄your work is so incredible! You’re literally keeping my hobbit/Tolkien hyper-fixation alive. I was wondering if you would want to write a first kiss situation with thorins company/hobbit characters? I hope your surgery goes well and you have a easy and speedy recovery!

Thank you what an honor omg!!! Man the surgery itself was ok but everything after was NOT IT 😭 so glad to be doing better now! This is a great idea & I sure do want to write it🫡😁 sorry it took so long because this request is apparently like 5 months old 🥲

Warning: loooooong post lololol, minor blood/injury mentions, some suggestive jokes/moments, corny at times hehe

Your First Kiss With the Hobbit Characters

Balin

“You can’t keep running off like that, you know.” Fingers closed around your wrist, but not so tightly as to provide entrapment, rather a secure anchor. Secure as the comfort of Balin’s deep brown gaze, something deep sparkling in his eyes you could never find elsewhere. Beads of sweat slid down your back as your breathing slowed, the adrenaline of battle washing away. Balin knew that feeling, saw it in you. “I know,” you answered, chest falling with a hard exhale, “But I can hardly leave everyone resigned to their fate when I can help.” It was then Balin’s turn to sigh. “I know, too,” he told you, rotating his grip around your wrist so the back of your hand was enveloped in his palm, “I suppose I am just being selfish.” Some number of seconds of you gaping passed before you managed to stutter out three words. “Does that mean…?” “Aye,” was all he said as he squeezed your hand, glancing down until you cupped his cheek, bringing his gaze back into yours before tugging him into your lips for one last adrenaline wave.

Dwalin

"You?" "Were you expecting Mahal himself?" You chirp in response, leaning on your hand and giving Dwalin a catlike smile. Unfazed, he continues. "What are you doing here?" "What do you think?" You answer with a question of your own, this one far less teasing. Softer. "You can't keep coming back. This is dangerous." Dangerous, he says as if it is not he who lies in a healer's tent with a broken arm freshly set and Valar know how many other bandages. Pain and pity cross your expression as you peer down at the warrior, rest your palm over his tattooed hand. "I can't lose you, too," he adds, gaze drifting from yours and eyelashes fluttering downward sheepishly, "You are far too precious. Too pure." Rosy glow overtakes you, shining outward through your smile and into your fingers, which spread to interlock with Dwalin's. "And too foolish, I suppose, for you, Master Dwalin, will never be rid of me. Do not let yourself be taken by such folly, for nothing is purer than you deserve, my hero." You feel his hand flex beneath you; his eyes finally flicker back upward before darting back shut as he leans up, cupping your cheek with his free hand. You taste salt and breaths of anticipation, war, relief, and love all in one. Pure indeed.

Thorin

A gasp startled you out of your dazed stare into the night, fire flickering at your back as you watched over empty hills. Turning your back to it, you returned your attention to those whom you presided over, protected for the night. The sight of Thorin bolting upright gave you pause, but soon you were at his side. “Are you alright?” “…Yes.” The king-to-be would not meet your eyes, his gaze falling into the shadows the fire cast upon his countenance. “Look at me.” Your command alone was enough to snap his head up; never had you spoken so to him or used do broken a tone. Thorin’s brows furrowed. “Worry not. It was just a dream.” “That was no dream,” you shot back, all but whispering. “No.” Thorin smiled wryly. “Sometimes it all comes back. I see it in the night when I cannot fight. I am helpless to it all. They cannot be saved. Then I wake and I wonder if it is to be so.” “No,” you laid your hand over his, “This weight is not yours alone. All of us are here with you, right? I am here with you.” A genuine smile crossed Thorin’s face, a shake of his head in wonder followed by a slow nod. “Thank you.” “Of course,” you answer. As you shifted, Thorin tightened his grip on your hand. “Stay.” “I will,” you told him, “I will.” “Good.” Not another word passed between your lips before they connected, passing over each other in moonlit words unspoken.

Oin

You hadn't even realized you were wounded at first. Shock overtaking you, you had run across the battlefield in pursuit of your comrades, only for them to gape and point at the blood seeping from your leg. You were fine, you assured them, but having none of it they hoisted you up over one shoulder each and dragged you over to a healer's tent, by which point a sharp sting had begun coursing up the expanse of your right leg. You were lowered down onto the tent's cushion-lain floor with it extended, and only when you looked up were you made aware of the familiar face before you. "Oin!" At your exclamation, the healer looked up and gave such a smile of recognition that your heart flipped. He spoke your name, too, although he did not match your enthusiasm, instead calling out with worry. "It's all right," you reassured him, "Not much more than a scratch." Rolling up your trouser leg, though, Oin winced at the blood before he began cleaning it. His bearded face fell into something much more serious than you were used to; for once he wasn't joking around as the jolly dwarf you knew and loved. That facade, the great focus, lasted the entire time he tended to you in fact. His hands were so dedicated and gentle as they worked over your torn skin. Upon completing your bandaging, he peered t you, dark eyes now intent upon yours. "You'll be fine." "Were you worried?" You couldn't help chuckling a bit. No healer were you, but the wound was nowhere near grievous or life-threatening. "Of course I was," Oin agreed without hesitation, "You know how much I care about you, don't you?" "I-" Lips parting, you stuttered for a moment. In your hesitation, Oin's hand found yours and gently brought you closer until his lips hit yours, beard tickling your cheeks. "Maybe now you do," he told you, smiling as you separated, "Now get some rest, alright?"

Gloin

“If you two do not stop acting like children," Gloin called to the princes, "We will treat you like children!” “What’ll you do,” Kili countered with crossed arms, smiling at his older brother, “Put us in the corner?” “We absolutely will,” you chimed in, mirroring the younger prince’s posture, “With pleasure, you ruffians!" "You two are like an old married couple," Fili tutted, shaking his head. "That's right," you agreed, grabbing Gloin's face with both hands and yanking him into a quick kiss that had one prince whooping and one calling out in disgust as they ran off. "What in Mahal's name was that?" Gloin asked you as you separated, auburn brows raised in distinct spite of the fact you'd felt him kiss you back. "Sorry, too much? I knew it'd scare them off. Might make them talk as well, though." "I wanted to kiss you first!" Gloin complained, pouting beneath his beard and prompting you to giggle as he took your hand, ready to make a more serious confession.

Bifur

Feet thudding against the ground, you ignored the shocks to your ankles and sprinted further. Dust clouds kicked up, but you clamped your mouth shut and ran, scanning across the black splatters of orcs’ blood and sheens of fallen blades. None of it stopped until you caught the sight of familiar braids, of black hair spilling out beneath a head trickling blood. “Bifur…” You whispered. He took your hand, gazing up at you with sad eyes. Muttered something faintly in Khuzdul…did you catch the word love? Your answer came in the way he leaned to press your forehead against his, ignoring the fresh wound and the axe still embedded in it. “I’ll take care of you,” you promised, “I love you.” Your lips met with all the passion of admission and promise and hope of recovery.

Bofur

“Come on now, won’t you have a drink?” You reached out a hand, wrapping it around the tankard over Bofur’s own gloved fingers, though you didn’t accept it straightaway. Instead, you kept your hand where it was and leaned in over the liquor. “Are you trying to get me tipsy, sir?” You teased. “Why, what’ll you do if you do get tipsy?” Bofur shot back with a playful, lopsided grin. “Use your imagination,” you replied, loosening your grip on the tankard and subsequently Bofur’s hand. The dwarf, however, was not giving up so easily. “Well, as a tipsy person myself, I suppose I would imagine something like this.” Tugging your hand back into his, Bofur ignored the tankard completely in favor of pressing his lips to yours, his mustache tickling your cheeks as you surrendered to the reverie of his lips’ sweet dominance. When you finally pull away, you both wore his playful look. “Alright, now I’m trying to get you tipsier,” you told him.

Bombur

“Wait, come back!” For a moment you thought you would finally get to thank the mysterious gifter of sweets, the one who left baskets of baked goods at the edges of your garden. Always tied with a different patterned bow, this time a gold-edged ribbon of maroon. Standing up, you’d made to follow the sound of footsteps only to see a form rounding the corner, just a wide bit of cloak trailing. “Please!” You turned around one way then whipped back the other when a skidding scraped the walls of your ears. Facing you was a very stocky, flaming-haired dwarf with his hands folded politely in front of him and rocking on his heels. "Since you said please," he said, his voice simple and sweet and a little bit scared. "I've really wanted to meet you," you told him, stepping forward, "To thank you." “Are you disappointed now?” Your gifter asked. “I promise I can do more than bake, I can fight, I will fight for-” Resting a hand on his shoulder, you shook your head. “You’re sweet enough for me just as you are. Never before have I had a secret admirer- someone who went to so much effort. That alone is amazing. Enough.” “You’re too sweet for me.” Pulling him closer by the hand upon his shoulder, you pressed a little kiss to his lips. “Just. Enough. Now, can I know my baker’s name?”

Dori

Of all the company members, only one of them supplied you with a spool of his own thread. Thick thread glittering with slivers of metallic sheen interwoven between lighter strips of the tiny cords. "So it matches the rest of my coat, you know," Dori explained, eyes flitting a bit sheepishly. "Ah," you set down your usual spool, a plainer brownish roll you'd just been using on one of Kili's pockets, "I see." You'd barely glanced up from your work, from ensuring you did not strike the thimble upon your finger, until you noticed the way Dori wouldn’t meet your eyes. “I…I know I’m a lot to deal with,” he said, “But it’s just that I know how I like things! I can’t help it.” “I do not think you’re a lot to deal with,” you replied, giving the dwarf your fully undivided attention, “I would be happy to deal with you.” The way his blue eyes widened, you could tell Dori was nowhere near expecting such a response, natural as it came to you. “Would you really?” “More than happy,” you added with a nod. “Well,” he fiddled with his hands, shifting closer to where you sat, “I would be more than happy to care for you in return.” “You already do,” you told him, eyelashes fluttering, “That is what I love about you.” Your allure got to Dori then, all glitter of threads fading in favor of your eyes, which he fell into, and your lips, which he leaned into.

Nori

“Get back here!” Chasing after Nori, you called out to the dwarf, who looked back over his shoulder with a cheeky grin. Of all things, he’d chosen to nick your undergarments, the fiend. Of course. Wheeling about, Nori ran up to a large rock and jumped up to the top of it, finally towering over you. He leaned down, your undergarments clutched triumphantly in his gloved hand as your noses nearly brushed. You could feel the warmth of his breath upon your face as you gazed upward, frown faltering and words failing at this new development. Nori, of course, still looked quite smug and had no trouble speaking. Remaining exactly where he was, he remarked, "Well, this is fun, isn't it?" "No," you answered, arms crossed, "It is not. Give those back!" "You're gonna have to make me, hm?" Fine. Two could play at that game. Frustration roiled in your chest, a fire burning as you eyes met Nori's. This whole charade had you quite ready to sacrifice whatever shred of dignity you had left to fight scoundrel with scoundrel. Taking the dwarf roughly by the collar, you yanked him into you and joined your lips. He fought back quickly, far less stunned and more passionate than you'd have expected. You were happy to escalate...at least until your hand slid down, felt his relax and drop the stolen article entirely. Jackpot. All but shoving Nori back, you mirrored his earlier smirk as you strode away, taking your turn to triumphantly brandish your undergarments. "Thank you, sir."

Ori

On the edge of your seat is the only phrase you could use to describe your position as you leaned over to watch Ori's work, the way his thick fingers slid so lightly over paper, creating shadows and the faintest of lines with subtle variations in that gentle pressure. Your eyes darted between his hand and his profile, staring as if keeping the focus in those brown eyes burning with the heat of your gaze. It is amazing that Ori can do that; you tell him as much. "Want to try?" He invites, profile swiveling to face you. "I can show you." You gave a nod, reaching out a hand in anticipation of pencil's weight. Thus it fell, but around your newly-filled palm his hand closed, coarse and warm fabric closing yours and lowering it to the paper. Several layered flushes of joy radiated through you as Ori glided you around, completing the lines of leaves upon a tree. "How's that?" An uncertain amount of time passed before he turned again to face you, this time inches from you given your shift and joined hands. "...Good?" The hitch of his breath and the quietening of his voice snapped something in you. Ori, too, for he leaned in and met you halfway through the inches, his lips connecting softly, joyously, to yours, only intensifying that soaring feeling.

Fili

"What's wrong?" "Can't sleep." "So you thought you'd bother me instead?" "Bother you?" You feigned offense. "Is that what my presence does?" "Your presence, no," Fili shook his head, "The way you keep kicking at my boots? Needless to say, yes." Grinning wickedly from your seated position, you gently darted out your foot to nudge his again, leading the dwarf to lean down to your level. "Do you want us all to get in danger? Is that it? I'm on watch, you know. You're risking the lives of all of us by distracting me." "Is that so?" "So it is." Nudge. This time, your foot slid along the length of his boot's side after you gave him your little kick. "That's it." Whirling around, mustache braids swishing with the motion, the golden-haired prince knelt down, his face inches from yours. "If you don't stop, I'll make you." Backing down was not in your vocabulary. "Make me," you commanded, voice low and expression smug and satisfied as ever. Before you could get another breath in Fili's lips were crashing onto yours, his facial hair tickling your cheeks in contrast to the hard, fast contact you made. His legs quickly wrapped around your waist, entrapping you beneath him as he cupped your cheeks in his hands, diving deeper and exploring your depths as far as he could for what felt like minutes until you finally parted for need of air. Fili's light blue eyes pierced yours intently, hungrily, as you stared back at him with much greater satisfaction than ever. "You're risking the lives of us all getting distracted," you repeated his words back to him, tracing a finger along one of his coat flaps. "I'll risk my life for you any day," Fili replied, cupping your cheek again and pulling you close, this time for a much slower, sweeter kiss that finally, finally, had you speechless.

Kili

“I’m bored,” you half-jokingly whined, eyes rolling back to look at Kili from the log you had draped yourself along. Straddling the log, he turned, leaning down to fix you with that glittering brown stare you loved. “What do you want me to do, hm?” Heart flipping, you swallowed, but painted a flippant smile across your face. “Entertain me.” “Entertain you?” He repeated, his own expression blooming with mischief. “Lot of ways I can do that.” “Well,” you crossed your arms, blood rushing to your head just as much from him as your upside-down position, “Choose one, then.” “Alright,” Kili hovered closer, his breath fanning your already-heated cheeks, “Let me know how this works, then.” The moment his lips crashed into yours, you responded, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his flowing black locks, which had a few leaves caught in them but still remained soft. As you gave them a little tug, Kili parted your lips for deeper entrance. You enjoyed your upside-down kiss right up to the moment you parted for breath, panting as he smirked down at you. “Still bored?”

Bilbo

Fog overtook the corners of your mind, dusting all your intents and purposes with a haze of questions. What were you doing in such a musty old place anyway? A voice at your side expressed a need for air. Why, you wondered as you jumped, startlement pumping pure adrenaline into your blood, were you with someone with a piece of axe blade protruding out of his head? Would the same happen to you? No, he was important, wasn't he? Think, think... Before you could get much thinking done, a hand clasped around yours. This time, the warm weight didn't have you jumping as far but it did pull you along, right along to the edges of the trees where you found yourself climbing after... Bilbo! Bilbo, the hobbit, the burglar, of course! The higher up you went, the more your lungs swelled and your head steadied with relief. How could you have been scared of sweet Bifur or not recognized Bilbo? Laughter sounded a bit above you; climbing faster, you burst from the treetops and squinted as you met the sun. Joined Bilbo's sweet mirth of relief and wonderment as light scattered over the clouds, illuminating the wings of gorgeous blue butterflies streaming out of the rustling leaves. "This is beautiful," you remarked, forgetting yourself and all the troubles of the forest as suddenly as they'd come on. "I'm glad you came with me," Bilbo told you softly. Turning away from the butterflies, you faced him only to see his grey eyes peering at you with the most utter sincerity. Had he drawn closer? A wave of emotion crashed over you, cresting as you closed the gap completely, feeling him gasp against your lips before he dove in himself. Sweet, gentlemanly, Bilbo never forced entry, his focus dedicated to a loving embrace of your lips alone. Giggling like a schoolchild as you pulled away, you grinned at the hobbit, whose expression you could only describe as starstruck. "I... am very glad you came with me," he remarked.

Thranduil

The king needed no advisors. Long had it been since he would have desired them, but concerns had grown and Thranduil did nothing if not care ruthlessly for his people. Thus, members of the nobility like yourself had come together as a council for the Woodland Realm’s ruler. Thranduil had been willing to listen, but your words grated against his like a block sharpening a blade; it seemed as though your every policy fought his in some way. Twice the meeting devolved into the two of you going back and forth across the table from your seats, which were quite unfortunately directly opposite one another. Such a scene it had felt to be that the king tarried in his room of council to speak to you at meeting’s end. “Do you take some form of issue with me?” Looking confident as you had in the meeting, you crossed your arms, smirking. “I take issue with your policies.” Thranduil must confess that in that moment he was shocked by the opposition, brows raising at your bold statement. “And you think you know what is best for our people?” “Maybe I do. They put me on your council, after all.” “You,” with great resounding taps the king crosses the room to stand before you, his face mere inches from yours, “would have us put at great risk right as we hit a point of prosperity.” “I would have us realize the threats at hand,” you replied cooly, tilting your head but balking not at all from the proximity. Thranduil moves ever so much closer, shaking his head and almost brushing his nose against yours with the motion. “Reckless warmongering.” “Hiding in fear,” you challenge back, smirking. “Do you wish to be shown your place?” “Do you need to ask?” A guard crossed briefly into the room, soft address of ‘my king’ dying upon his shortened breath at the sight of said ruler embroiled in a passionate battle for lingual dominance against one of his councilors.

Bard

You were never sure how the bowman felt about you. Certainly he was friendly and enjoyed spending time with you enough, but to what end? Perhaps you were doomed to live a life upon the edge of questioning. And yet the worst part was, you had yet to discover why you didn't entirely mind. Why, in fact, you found yourself in his barge once again, paddling out beyond the horizon of cobbled together buildings leaning into each other. Just as you could lean further into the thick brown furs of Bard's coat, perhaps even feeling it against your cheek as you lean against his shoulder. As it was, you simply stood at his invitation to take up steering, moving to the other side of the boat. Unbeknownst to you, however, Bard had left one of his fishing nets on the floor; shoe’s edge catching on the tightly connected loops of rope, you tumbled forward and made an unfortunate pitch into the cold lake. Swirling into the water and kicking back up through it did not last long, and soon Bard’s hand reached out to grab yours and pull you back into shivering safety. “Are you hurt?” He asked, hands hovering over your folded legs, the ankle you’d caught. Heart swelling over the look of concern in his dark eyes, all you could do was shake your head. Folding himself, Bard dropped to his knees at your side. “Good. I was worried about you.” “You were?” You asked dumbly, ready to blame shock over such a foolish question. You needed not, though, could not- not when his lips fell immediately upon yours.

Beorn

Neighbors minded their own business. This was a simple fact of making one's home out in the far woods, out also where more and more orcs and foul things had begun to roam. Thus you had always been left to wonder who the owner of the wonderful cottage you passed by was, never seeing a single soul beyond the great deal of livestock and pleasantly plump bees flitting about the immaculately-tended flowers. Was it a woman? A man? Some sort of trap like in the old tales where places and faces so fair were always the deadliest? But who, then, would be twisted enough to craft a trap so admittedly perfect in your mind... Such thoughts did not penetrate the desperation clouding your mind the day your beloved cow, the one you'd had from a young age, strained with the aching struggle of a birth gone wrong, your feet carrying you straight to your neighbor's door. If she died, you would lose a major source of subsistence alongside one of your few friends in the whole lonely woods. The look in her big brown eyes was all you could see as you rapped on the door, your look of pleading meeting yet another big brown stare, this time upon a man with a stern face and a great mass of brown hair. Brows furrowed in confusion and perhaps slight annoyance as they were, he had no chance to speak ill before you were begging him to come help your cow, you'd seen the shape his were in after all and you could tell they were loved, please, you needed his strength- she did. The unspoken promise that the man would see you this once, then never again, hung in the air as you led him to your home, to your pasture, to the dear friend whose life he saved. “Thank you, truly,” you told him as he made to leave, “You may not wish it, but you are welcome here anytime.” Before he could say anything, you leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. Not realizing, of course, that he was turning his head, connecting your lips for the briefest of moments before you stared at him wide-eyed. “You might see me again,” he told you with a small, wry smile.

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[lis-likes-fics]

Strung Up

Pairing(s): Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 32.8k words Warnings: NSFW, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat (violence), graphic descriptions of violence, graphic descriptions of death, murder, blood, gore, anxiety, panic attack, implications of stalking, frequent swearing, drug use, alcohol use, manipulation, degradation (not always in the sexy way), dubious consent, light praise kink, fingering, groping, oral sex, multiple orgasms, spanking, titty fucking, masturbation, vaguely masochistic tendencies… A/N: IMPORTANT, PLEASE READ: Not all of the warnings are listed above, but the full list of warnings is provided here. The only reason they're not all here is to avoid spoilers throughout the story, but none of the warnings unlisted here should be trigger warnings. If you're still unsure, please feel free to check the list. But if you want to go into this blind, go right ahead! A/N II: Okay so...I did finish the last two scenes at 3 o'clock in the morning last night, but hey! We finished! This is the last upload for my Kinktober 2024 event. I'm glad I was able to finish just in time, and I hope you all enjoy this just as much as I did (even though I almost gave up five different times but that's not important.) Thank you so much and Happy Halloween! A/N III: The story is too long so Tumblr won't let me post this. Because of this, I will ahve to split it into two parts (which is annoying bc it will really damage notes and stuff and it's harder to manage >:( )

"Sonova bitch!”

You resist the urge to kick your tire. It's midnight, you're practically in the middle of the woods, and you're alone. Your car broke down along the way home, and now you're worried you'll have to walk for God-only-knows how long just to get help.

You look around, trying to figure out what to do without a car or any telephone nearby. You curse under your breath, bracing your hands on the side of the car as you lean against it.

You hear tires in the distance, and perk your head up at the chance of some luck coming your way.

But the only thing coming your way is a large, almost creaky van. Upon seeing you, it begins to slow down to a creeping pace, and you wonder if you should just make a break for it.

Just your luck, too. You're stuff on the side of the road in the middle of the night with no way to communicate with a single living soul, and now there's a creepy van inching toward you like you're about to meet your end.

Your back is stiff, and your nerves are frayed. “Just a van driving toward you,”you mutter to yourself. “Nothing scary about that at all.”

As the blinding lights shine across you, you raise a hand and squint your eyes against the strain. It pulls into the side of the road, parking behind you as the lights continue to blare.

“Hey,” a guy says as he swings the door open and steps out. You give a wary smile at first, waving timidly back at him. “Something wrong?”

It's hard to see him. All you see is the outline of his figure against the lights. He's taller than you, with big bushy hair and wide shoulders. You try not to shrink away from this dark, shadowy thing of a man.

You bump the toe of your shoe against the tire, crossing your arms as your hand pulls nervously at the collar of your work shirt. “Stupid engine died on me.”

He gestures to the car, his voice is actually kind of nice, and a bit familiar… “A beauty like this?” He pats the back of it, wild hair shifting as he looks down at it. “That's surprising.”

You shrug. “Yeah, everyone thinks it's such a great car. It's actually a piece of shit.” You chuckle lightly, and he joins you. “Do you think you could help?”

He steps to the side, and some light finally shines on one side of his face. You start to piece together his features, squinting your eyes and realizing why his voice is so familiar. You're put at some ease now that you recognize him. Your shoulders fall, and the features of your face calm.

“Wait, you're that Eddie guy. At my school?”

He looks up at you, a smile tugging at his lips as he nods. “That's me. The Eddie guy.” He holds out his ringed-up hand. “Eddie Munson.”

You take it, the cold of his rings a slight surprise against the warmth of your palm. “I'm–”

“I'm well aware, sweetheart.”

You purse your lips, chuckling lightly at the way he says it. It's not mean in any way, but there's an undertone that you find slightly unsettling.

He squints the corners of his dark eyes, making a cringing face as he nods slowly. “Sorry, that sounds bad. Uhh–”

“No, all good,” you say quickly. You shuffle on your feet, chuckling lightly to try and ease the tension between you. “You're not gonna, like, kill me and stuff my corpse in the back of your van, right?”

He smiles, laughing as he shakes his head. “No, all good.” He raises his fingers in the air, one hand over his heart as he bows a little. “Scout's honor.”

You nod. “Cool.” You glance back at your car and pat the hood. “You think you could help me out, Eddie Munson? Maybe a hot wire?”

He cringes slightly, running a hand through his messy hair. His muscle tee rides up a little from the movement, revealing a slip of his tummy shone gently in his headlights. “Unfortunately, my old girl can't handle a hot wire. I love her, but she's a bit of a piece of shit, too.”

You hum, your shoulders falling slightly. “Oh, that sucks.”

“But…” He steps over to your open door, leaning inside to pop the hood before he walks past you to look at the engine. “I'll tell you what, I can tow it and get it fixed for you.” He seems pleased with this answer. He smiles like a dork. “I help out at an auto shop, they know me. And,” he rubs his hand over the side of the car, admiring the make, “I think they'd be thrilled to work on a nice thing like this.”

Sparks of hope shoot like fireworks in your eyes when you look at him. “”Really?” Then you backpedal as you second guess yourself. “I wouldn’t wanna bother.”

“Psh, no bother, at all.” He says it so casually, like the thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. The amount of work, money, time—it doesn’t seem to mean anything to him. “I’ll hook her up and take you home.”

You clasp your hands together, a wide smile falling on your face. “Thank you so much.” You start walking toward his van with him, watching as he opens your door for you like a true gentleman. “I’m so glad you’re not some sort of creep.”

As you sit down, his smile widens with his joke. “You never know.” He winks at you, and it makes you laugh. If he were some middle-aged man, you’d truly be worried. But he’s really just some really nice (and kind of hot) weirdo who goes to your school. He’s not threatening, at all.

Once Eddie’s got your car properly fastened to the back of his van, he’s driving down the lightened road with the radio gently underscoring the otherwise silent air. He taps the wheel gently, glancing over at you every now and then when you’re looking out of the window at your side.

“So,” he mutters, “why are you out here so late?”

You chuckle lightly, scratching your neck absent-mindedly. “Leaving work.” You purse your lips. “My hours are kinda ridiculous.”

His brows raise. “Damn. Sounds like you need a new job.”

You shrug a shoulder lazily. “Eh. Pays well, good boss, one shitty coworker.” You look at him and smile. “It’s nothing.”

“At least it’s not a shitty boss.”

You nod eagerly, laughing lightly in agreement. “Got that right. I got lucky.”

His eyes keep switching between you and the road. He leans his elbow on his arm rest, still steering with one hand on the wheel. “So where do you work?” he wonders curiously.

“Retail.” There’s a crack on the passenger’s side mirror, and you briefly wonder how it got there. “This semi-expensive place, like twenty minutes from my house.”

He tilts his head to the side with a hum, as if the distance is another reason to quit. “Good pay.”

Another involuntary chuckle rises from your chest. “Good pay,” you echo. “What about you?” You turn to him, your head tilted. Then your eyes close and you purse your lips, raising a hand to brush down your face. “You totally said you help out at an auto shop, didn’t you?”

He laughs heartily. “I did, but I actually work at Radio Shack.” You nod like working at Radio Shack is this super interesting thing. “Pays kinda meh, shitty boss, couple good coworkers but the others kinda hate me.”

You lean back against the seat, sighing like it's happening to you. “That sucks. I'm sorry.”

Eddie shrugs. “S’fine, I'm used to it.” He grins a little. “That's what happens when you listen to this.”

He turns the station, turning it up a little as the rambunctious sounds of metal music almost blast through the speakers.

You've never been a fan of metal, but the popular rhetoric of it being music from the devil was annoying. Music is music.

“And when you play RPGs.” He turns the music back down.

You smirk, raising a brow at him. “So you're a nerd?”

An almost startled laugh rises from his throat, it almost sounds like a snort. “Maybe a little,” he says. His smile is so big, you wonder if his cheeks hurt. Then you wonder if he's this nice to everyone.

“That’s okay. I like a good nerd.”

He glances over his shoulder teasingly. “Oh, yeah?”

You nod, chuckling to yourself with a gentle giddy. “Mhm.”

The rest of the ride is as calm and as pleasant. Eddie's good company, and you find yourself genuinely hoping that you continue to be friends after this.

Soon enough, he's pulling into your posh neighborhood. The street lamps have been on for a long time, illuminating your relatively expensive house and the large tree in front of it in a gentle golden light. The porch lights are on, so your parents must be (obviously) asleep.

Eddie jogs across the front of his van to open the door for you. “Tada!” he exclaims quietly as he gestures dramatically toward your home. As you step out, still looking at your house with a furrowed brow, your skin prickles and the back of your neck goes cold as you begin to realize something.

“I…never gave you my address.”

You turn to look at Eddie, who's smiling really widely. His dark fringe kisses his lashes, his lips are pulled taut by the stretch of his smile, which is lingering strangely on his face. A tiny huff of breath passes from his mouth.

There's a strange silence as he stares at you, looking like someone's pressed pause on him. It's just short enough that it's easy to miss.

“I've been to one of your parties before.”

Oh.

“You have?” You think quickly, trying to remember seeing his face and falling short. “I've never seen you at one.”

“Yeah…” he says. “Not really my crowd.” Eddie closes your door after you've grabbed your things. “A friend invited me, but I left quick.” He shrugs a shoulder, “Besides, atmosphere wasn't super welcoming.”

Right. He's a social outcast.

“Oh,” you mumble. It doesn't sit well with you. You wished you would have noticed him. At least then you could have tried to make it better for him. He's a really sweet guy…

“Who’s your friend? I think I heard Steve Harrington mention you before,” you wonder. Steve is a friend of yours, and he’s been to nearly all of your parties.

“Yeah, he invited me.” He shrugs. “But I went with Jonathan Byers.” You know the name, another social outcast. He and his brother are very kindly looked upon, especially after the incident where his little brother was lost in the woods. That’s the only time you ever spoke to him, to offer your sympathies. If you’re thinking correctly, he’s a pothead now.

You give him a smile. “Well, I'd like to formally invite you to my next one—whenever that is, then I can properly welcome you and your friend.”

He laughs lightly, doing a grand flourish with his hand as he bows to you. “Well, thank you very much.”

You gesture toward the back of his van. “And my car?”

He nods dutifully. “I'll get that fixed up for you in no time.” Then he thinks for a moment. “Well, a little bit of time, but not too long.”

“Oh.” You nod, smiling still. You glance off down the street like you're looking for something. “I’ll just have to figure out a ride to school then… My boyfriend kind of lives out of the way and both my parents work.”

You miss the way his shoulders sink, his smile easing just a bit. He brings a hand to scratch the back of his neck. “Well…” he speaks slowly, slower than he means to. “I can come pick you up.”

You clasp your hand again in a slightly pleading manner, but there's so much kindness in your eyes. “You're already helping out so much.”

A small sense of pride swells in his chest. “It's not a problem, really. I'm happy to.”

You set a hand on his shoulder, and you feel it tense a little through the thickness of his leather jacket. “I'd really appreciate it.” It's sincere, and you hope he knows. “Thank you.”

He puts his hand over yours. “No problem.” Then he clears his throat and lets go of your hand so you can have it back.

You start walking backwards. “Goodnight, Eddie.”

He raises an open palm, doesn't wave it or anything. “Night…”

You turn around and head inside. He watches you put the key in your door and walk inside.

Eddie stands there still, sighing gently as he wonders what he's going to do with himself. You're just so sweet and so pretty. You're perfect.

You're everything he was hoping for.

~

You've been trying to speak to him for the past ten minutes.

The lunch table isn't as full today. A couple buddies from the team are gone, their girlfriends included—which also means Brynn isn't here to resort to either.

You sigh, rolling your eyes as Jake's lips suck on your neck still. He hasn't moved from this spot unless it's to go to the other side of your neck in ten minutes. His hands are all over your waist, and when he nips at you, you huff.

“Hey, can you chill?”

He hums, not letting up as he continues to suck on you like a goddamn vampire. “What's wrong, baby?” he mumbles against your neck.

You push him off of you so that he'll look at your face. His lips are a little swollen from the attention, and his eyes are hooded like you've just been going down on him or something.

“I'm trying to talk to you, and you’re trying to fuck me in the middle of the cafeteria.

“I'm sorry,” he says, kissing your lips gently. He sighs lightly and smiles. “What were you saying?”

So he wasn't paying attention? You thought as much.

You turn to him. “I was saying that I might get fired.”

He furrows his brows. “Why?”

You brush a hand down your face to calm yourself before you yell at him for being so inattentive. You lick your lips, centering yourself with a sigh as you pull a sarcastic grin over your face.

“Because Cassidy found us making out in the storage closet during my lunch break—which you suggested after I said it was a bad idea.” There's a small grin on his face, and you have a feeling he isn't listening again.

He shrugs, “Cassidy’s a bitch who's been trying to get you fired for months. She's not doing it now.”

Your stress is getting to you now. You reach out to grab his face in the hopes that it'll make him pay a little more attention. “Except this time, she's got me for indecency in the workplace. Which could be filed under sexual harassment. That can get me fired.”

He furrows his brows a little in confusion. He grabs your wrists and pulls them off his face, down to his lap. “I think you're being ridiculous,” he shrugs a shoulder like what he's said isn't a ridiculous statement. “Aren't you training to be like…a crew lead or something?”

His hands fall to your waist, and you ignore him as he leans in again to keep sucking on your neck. He tilts your head up, holding your chin still as he has at it.

You let out a frustrated sigh. “Which is why I'm stressed out. She's going to tell my boss, and she's going to fire me.”

He pulls away from your neck. You watch his face twist in more confusion. He stares at you for a second, then glances away, and then looks back at you. “Why would you get fired?”

You stare at him with an astonished glare in your eyes. “You don't…” you huff unbelievingly and swat his hands away from you, “...fucking listen.”

You stand up and start gathering your things, wiping absent-mindedly at your neck as you throw your bag over your shoulder. He watches you, ever-confused as you storm away from him. “Where are you going?”

When you plop down next to Eddie, he seems unsurprised. He looks over at you and smiles. The rest of his table isn't fazed by your entrance—you come over a lot and you're nice, so they don't care.

“Hey! How's it goin’?” Eddie's happy to see you, and it's already making you feel better. He notices the way your face is screwed up, and he's come to know the look well by now. His face falls a little, concern lining his forehead as it does. “What's wrong?”

His warm hand comes to rest at your face, rubbing lightly between your shoulder blades. It's a soothing thing that actually helps to calm you down a bit. “Jake's pissing me off.”

“How?” He sounds almost as exasperated as you.

You sigh gently, getting ready to recount the story for a listening ear. “A couple days ago, I was on my lunch break at work and he convinced me to…” it's a little awkward telling Eddie about your semi-sexual habits, but you know he won't judge you, “...to make out with him in the storage closet, and my goddamn coworker saw us and is going to tattle.” You drop your face into your hands. “I could get fired for this.”

Eddie thinks for a moment. “This is…Cassidy, right? Cassidy Franklin?”

“Yeah.” You sit up again, probably looking as hopeless as you feel.

He brings his foot up to prop against his chair, tilting his head to one side to let his hair fall off his shoulder. “Isn't she that same girl who started the rumor about Betty Carter and Richard Vance making porn tapes for money?” He raises a brow, “And that one about Steve being in a relationship with Jonathan?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah.”

“Huh?” Jonathan asks, looking up from his food at the mention of his name. Eddie waves him off, rolling his eyes before he looks back over to you. He smiles, opening his hands. “She's a rumormonger. No one's gonna believe her. Especially not your manager. Your manager loves you and everyone hates Cassidy Franklin.”

You think about that, and it's making you feel better. You nod again. “You might be right.”

He wraps a hand around his knee, smiling to himself like he's so pleased to hear that he's right. “Besides, it'll probably end up coming back to her anyway.” He tilts his head, leaning in fondly as he flutters his lashes at you. ”People like that don't always get away with being assholes.”

“Yeah.” You chuckle, nodding. “Okay. You're right, yeah. She's a bitch.”

“Who’s a bitch?” Robin’s head pops up. She looks between the two of you, curiosity all over her face.

You shrug. “My coworker.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes and nodding. “Yeah, my coworker’s a bitch, too.”

You chuckle lightly, glancing at Eddie. “Don’t you work with Steve?” You’ve checked out movies at Family Video from them before. They seemed to mostly be getting along.

“Yeah, why?” She smirks slyly, returning to her conversation with Argyle. You don’t know what they’re talking about, but you’re not sure it’s going to make a lot of sense with the way his eyes look right now.

Eddie’s smiling when you look back at him. “Anyway, don't sweat it. Everything's gonna be fine…’kay?” He holds out his pinky, squeezing with a funny kind of harshness when you wrap yours around it.

You nod. “Okay.” You sigh, and this time it actually feels like you're letting go of the stress. Eddie always knows how to make you feel better. “Thanks. My boyfriend's an idiot, and it feels like you're the only person who listens to me sometimes.”

He furrows his brow curiously, turning toward his bag of pretzels sitting almost forgotten on the table. He pulls a couple from the bag, picking them individually from his palm. “What about your friend? What's her name—Brooklyn?”

“Brittany.” Your smile sours. “And, yeah, Brynn spends a lot more time with her boyfriend now than she does with me, so I might have to remind her that I exist first.”

He scoffs, shaking his hand as he looks down at his pretzels. “Shitty friend,” he mumbles under his breath. He seems genuinely and deeply upset. His brow furrows maybe a little more than it should.

You look over his expression, briefly wondering why he cares so much. “Just a bit,” you mutter absent-mindedly. You look at the time. Lunch is almost over. “Anyway, thanks, Eddie.”

He seems to snap out of it then, a large grin returning to his face. “No problem.”

You set a hand on his arm, smiling hopefully. “Hey, are you free tonight?” Something glints in his eyes. “Jake's hanging out with his boys and, like I said, Brynn's with her boy. I wanted to watch that new movie.”

It's a horror movie, Annihilator. You know Eddie likes horror movies, and you don't want to watch it alone. Or, rather, you'd prefer to watch it with him.

Eddie does this weird thing sometimes where he pauses. It's like his brain suddenly freezes and he just stops moving. He stares at you. His smile intact and his face just as Eddie-ish as usual, but just a little…off.

It only ever lasts a moment though.

“Raincheck?” he asks regrettably. “I'm hanging with my uncle tonight. We've been planning it for a while now.”

“Oh, sure,” you chirp. You know how much his uncle means to him. They don't usually get time together since he always works so late. “No problem. Tomorrow night?”

He smiles that proud grin again. He does it a lot. You think it's sweet.

“Absolutely.”

“See you then.” You steal a pretzel as you move to stand.

He waves you off with wiggling fingers and a cheeky grin. “See you.” He winks on your way out.

~

Dragging yourself out of the bed the next morning was hard. You don’t know why. You just woke up and felt like maybe tonight was the type of day not to go to school.

And, technically, you could if you wanted to. Both your parents are gone on a business trip—they left before you even woke up that morning. They won’t be back for at least a week. You could ditch and the worst that would happen is a phone call that you could delete if it was really necessary enough to do so in the first place.

But anyway, you don’t. You drag yourself out of bed, get ready for school, and head downstairs for breakfast. You're stirring sugar into your tea when you turn on the TV, switching through the channels to find the cartoons.

Something catches your eyes when a news channel flashes on the screen. You flip back to it quickly, and you stop mid-stir at what you find.

“–about a gruesome murder is tearing through Hawkins like a wildfire.” You drop the spoon in your mug, turning the volume up loud. “The life of a student at Hawkins High School, known as the basketball captain Jason Carver, was taken last night by a suspect police have yet to identify. Hawkins PD is still–”

You rush to the phone, dialing Brynn’s number faster than you ever have before. It rings only a couple times before the dial tone ends. You give her no time to speak.

“Are you watching the news right now?”

“Yeah. Jason fucking Carver? Who the fuck would do this?” She sounds distraught, as distraught as you feel.

You swallow thickly, pacing as much as you can with the short cord keeping you tethered to the phone. You start to worry. What if this isn’t a one time thing? What if people are actually in danger—your boyfriend, your friends. “Don’t ask me.” You start to feel sick.

“This is insane.” She sighs heavily through the line.

“You’re telling me.”

“How’s your car?” she asks, your words running a mile a minute. “Do I need to take you to school?”

It takes you a moment to respond. Your eyes had gotten stuck to the screen. There are police lights and caution tape and people everywhere. It feels so unreal. “Uh—It’s fine.” You clear your throat, wiping a hand over your face. “Especially after Eddie worked on it.”

You can almost hear the scowl in her voice. “You still hang out with him?”

Here we go. “You don’t hang out with me.”

“He’s probably the one who killed Jason.”

Her comment is a slap in the face. You can’t describe the anger and disgust that rises in your throat at what she’d just said. It’s corrosive, and you wish you could show her how upset it actually makes you, but you can’t. So instead, you say, “Why the fuck would you say that?”

Your tone makes her back off. Not by a lot, but enough for her to second guess. “He’s like…a satanist or something.”

“Or something.” You shake your head. “He’s just a nerd, and he’s kind.” You mean it in a nice way. “He’s got nothing to do with this.”

She scoffs. “Whatever.” She takes a moment, calms down, and then says with more sincerity than annoyance. “Don’t get fucking killed.”

“You, too.”

“I’ll see you in class.”

“Bye.” You hang up. You stare at the screen again, staring for a while as you try to process this. You knew Jason. He was your friend—or, he was relatively your friend. You were dating one of the members on his team, so you’ve known him for a while. Now that he’s gone… It’s just such a bizarre concept to digest.

You don’t know what you’re supposed to do. You dial Jake’s house phone, waiting and waiting for it to pick up, only for it to flatline. With a huff, you try again. When it still doesn’t go through, you start to go for a third time when you catch the time. You’re gonna be late. You’ll see him there anyway.

You try to ignore the gnawing feeling that you might not.

~

You lean against your locker next to Eddie, holding onto your bag as your hands worry away at the strap. “I just can’t believe this happened.”

“Yeah, it’s crazy,” Eddie says. He shrugs a shoulder, “I mean, this place has been kinda cursed for a while but something like this?”

You shake your head, imagining the scenes you’ve been told by the amount of people you’ve walked past or talked to since you left the house. “It was so brutal. They said he was gutted and then hung from a fucking tree.” Your gut twists with the image. “I keep looking over my shoulder like this killer’s gonna be there.”

Eddie's hand comes to cup your elbow. He rubs it soothingly with a reassuring glint in his eyes. “Hey, don’t worry about that kinda stuff. Everything’s gonna be fine, okay?” His thumb strokes the meat of your arm. He offers you a smile.

You nod. “I hope so.” You glance behind Eddie, catching sight of Chrissy. It’s a wonder she even showed up today. She’s walking through the halls with her eyes down at the floor, moving so sluggishly that you wonder briefly if she’s really just some zombie roaming the halls. You speak quietly. “I can’t imagine how Chrissy must be feeling. She’s such a sweet person, she doesn’t deserve this kinda thing.”

Eddie’s eyes linger on her as she continues walking down the hall. He swallows thickly. “Yeah…”

His brows suddenly furrow. A crease wedges itself between them as he sees something, and he lets out a sigh as he glances away, straightening his posture as he goes. His thumb rubs your elbow one more time before letting you go. “Hey, I’ll see you later, okay?” You nod. “Stay safe.” He says it with an intensity that honestly warms your heart.

“You, too.” He gives you a quick smile and then leaves. You turn around to watch him go just as you see Jake walking toward you. That makes sense. The two eye each other as they pass, and Jake looks at you like he’s annoyed by something.

The sight of him had initially brought you some relief. You were worried that something happened to him when he didn’t answer the phone this morning. The more you look at him though, the more that feeling sours and becomes something more exasperated than anything else.

You turn around with a sigh, leaning against the locker again on your other elbow. He comes up to you, a partial scowl set upon his face. “Was that Eddie Munson?”

You hate the way he says his name. It pisses you off every time you hear it. “Yeah.”

“Why are you hanging out with him?” He looks genuinely pissed out. You roll your eyes, ready to leave this conversation because it’s such a petty thing to be arguing about right now. Someone just fucking died—one of Jake’s closest friends just fucking died—and he’s upset that you’re hanging out with some guy who plays DND? You were worried he was dead, and this is how he greets you.

“Why does everyone keep asking me that question?” You seethe the question, trying not to bring any attention to yourself as you lean in to talk to him, your own scowl set to combat his own. He huffs and shakes his head, but decides it’s probably just best to drop it.

“You didn’t call me this morning.” Your quiet anger is biting at your fingertips. You try to remind him of the situation because it doesn’t seem to be registering for him. “A student at Hawkins High was killed, and you didn’t call me this morning.”

Jake sighs, running a hand down his face as he thinks about it. You finally start to see the grief threatening to peek through as he looks away from you. “I was on the team with Jason. My parents were bitching about being safe.” His voice is quieter now, not as firm.

You start to feel bad now. You’ve been bitching about him lately about his bad behavior. You’re doing it right now, when what he really needs is your support. You sigh, looking down at your feet as you offer a truce in the way of cradling his arm in your palm. He looks at you, his eyes softening with your own. You just look at him for a moment and take a breath.

“I just don’t understand.” Your voice would be a whisper if there weren’t so many people crowding the halls. You have no doubt that every single one of them is talking about Jason Carver, former captain of the basketball team. “It’s all so surreal. This kind of thing doesn’t happen in real life.”

He lifts his hand to your cheek, offering his comfort. “Hey,” he says gently, “everything’s gonna be fine. I’ll make sure you’re good. You can stay at my place until this all clears up.” Sometimes you wonder why you’re even with him. But then he does stuff like this, and you start to feel a little better about the struggle. “We can also have Brynn and Andrew over to make it fun. How does that sound?”

Better than you thought it would. You haven’t been around them in a while. You feel like maybe you shouldn’t delay that any longer.

“Yeah.” You nod, hyping yourself up a bit as you offer a little smile. “Yeah, that’ll be nice. Thanks.”

His smile widens a bit. He leans in. “Anything for my girl.” He kisses you. It’s a gentle kiss, and it makes you feel better because it feels like he means it. His thumb strokes your cheek, and you can’t help but to smile against his lips.

~

You take a nap as soon as you get home. The whole day has been so exhausting, weighed down by all the grief and confusion. There’s a team meeting after school, so you have to wait for that to finish before Jake comes to get you.

When you wake up, it’s almost eight o’clock. It’s weird. The meeting should’ve been over by now.

It’s too quiet. The silence is making your skin crawl, and you reach for the remote in a desperate need to fix it. When it’s on, you immediately regret making that so.

“A second murder shakes the grounds of Hawkins as another student by the name of Cassidy Franklin is killed only an hour ago at–”

Your shock is interrupted by a tiny clattering sound. You nearly jump out of your skin as your gaze is immediately drawn upstairs. You feel yourself begin to shake, and you don’t think you can move after you’ve turned off the TV just as quickly as you turned it on.

Everything is so still now. Even the air refuses to move as you wait for anything—another sound, more silence. Anything.

You will yourself to move as you go to the kitchen, pulling the biggest knife from its sheath and ignoring the way it trembles with your fear. The tension is the air so palpable, you genuinely believe you could cut it with the knife you have clenched in your tight fists.

You feel dumb walking upstairs, toward the noise you just heard. You feel like you might die if you go any further, but you also feel like if the killer is actually in your house, then you’ll probably die if you stay downstairs, too.

You turn every knob like it’s searing hot. Every time a door opens, you feel like your heart has jumped out of your throat and then forced its way back down once you’ve confirmed there’s no one there (or rather, once you don’t see anyone because you refuse to investigate any further).

When you reach your bedroom, you think you might die. Maybe not from the killer, but from the heart attack you feel creeping up your chest.

On your bed is a single letter and a strange doll thing. You don’t feel like your heart is beating when you walk into the room. You almost slip multiple times over your own feet just trying to get to your bed. When you’re standing there, you’re frightened by something moving beside you, and you genuinely do jump this time.

Your window is open. The curtains swayed gently with a light gust of wind coming through.

Yes. You think you might die.

You swallow thickly, trying to keep your tears choked down as you pick up the doll. It looks handmade. The arms are thin and pillowy, so are the legs. Neither of them have hands or feet, and it has a stitch mouth and buttons for eyes. In a weird, abstract way, you think it sort of looks like you. The skin tone is the same and the buttons match your eye color, at least.

It falls from your hands more than you set it down. They’re shaking so badly, you don’t think you’d have been capable of putting it down yourself.

When you look at the letter, the paper also looks like it’s been folded and glued by hand. Your name is written across the front in handwriting you’ve never seen before. You force yourself to open it to see what’s inside.

When you pull out the note, you cover your mouth as you throw it back down, stumbling away. Tears spring to your eyes, despite your best effort to keep them away. There’s a smudge of blood on the paper. It doesn’t look old.

You squeeze your eyes shut, holding your breath like it’ll wake you up from some terrible dream. But when you open your eyes again and find yourself in the same room, you try not to choke on your tears.

As your entire body trembles, you find your way back to the bed. You pick up the note and do your best to keep your hands still (miserably) so you can read it.

I’ll pull all the loose strings for you, my little puppet. And once they’re all gone, we will be together.

A startled cry rips its way from your throat. You collapse to the floor as your chest heaves uncontrollably. This is too much stress. You can’t take all of this.

You don’t know how long you spend on the floor like this—sobbing and losing a lot of water—but once you’ve wracked up the strength, you crumple the letter into a ball and grab the doll by its torso, squeezing with all the fear and anger in your chest. You open your closet door, throwing them both at the wall with all your strength and forcing the door shut.

You calm your breath enough to stop your tears and wipe at your face, rushing down the stairs with the bag you’d already packed. You’re out of the door in barely any time, getting in the car as quickly as possible and you tear a path straight to Jake’s house.

Once you’re there, you don’t see his father’s car, so you assume he’s working overtime at the department to catch this killer. The way your fists pound on the front door is insistent. You almost sock Jake right in the face as soon as it’s open.

“Fuck,” he says quickly, his words rushing from his mouth. “I’m so sorry, babe. I lost track of time and–”

You don’t listen to him. You throw your arms around him and bury your face in his chest. He smells vaguely of your perfume. You try not to cry again. It’s not too hard, seeing as you already cried a ton of tears earlier onto your bedroom floor.

“Can I stay with you tonight?” You sound pathetic, but you don’t care enough to try to fix it.

“Yeah. Come on.” He opens the door wider, pulling his arm tightly around you as he tucks the both of you into the house. He closes the door behind you, still holding onto you as you pull him tight. He eases your face back into his chest. “What’s got you so freaked out?”

You don’t know what to tell him. You tell him the truth, he might believe you, he might not. If he does, he might decide to go on a killing spree to deal with whoever he thinks could have done it (you have a suspicious feeling that Eddie will be at the top of the list, simply because he doesn’t like him). There are just too many variables, and you’re too tired and too scared to deal with any of them.

“I…” you sigh shakily, “I’m just surprised by…Cassidy’s death.” Cassidy’s fucking dead. You almost forgot about that with all the insanity swarming through your head.

As his hand strokes down the back of your head, you feel his chest rumble against your cheek as he speaks. “You worked with her, didn’t you?” He sounds genuinely curious. He really wasn’t listening…

“Yeah.”

He shakes his head. “That’s crazy.” He sets his chin on top of your head and keeps rubbing your back.

“Jake.” You pull away from him just enough to look at his face. His hands cradle your elbows as your own clutch desperately at his sides. You need to know. “Do you love me?”

He stares at you and nods, bringing a hand to your cheek. His thumb strokes it, just like before. His hand is hot. “Yeah.”

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, searching his eyes for something to hold onto it. “Would you…” You try to steady your breath, swallowing thickly. “Would you let anything bad happen to me?”

You don’t expect him to say yes, but you need to hear it all the same. “‘Course not,” he says. “You’re my girl.”

You lift yourself onto your toes to kiss him. He cranes his neck down to meet you, and his hands fall down to your waist. You bring your arms up to wrap around his shoulders, trying to bring him down further. You need to forget about all of this. Just for a moment. You want to forget.

“Make me feel better,” you mutter against his lips.

He smiles a little, bringing his hands down further to pick you up, wrapping your legs around his wait. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

~

“Welcome, students.”

The gym is packed full of students. All the students and faculty are sitting in the bleachers or standing around the gym floor, watching the principal and the police officers giving an announcement front and center. You sit so close to Jake that your hips are practically glued together. Brynn’s on your other side with Andrew next to her. You keep wanting to glance over your shoulder where Eddie is sitting with his group, but you decide it’s probably best not to for the sake of not dealing with your friends and boyfriend’s bad attitudes.

“I know we are all aware of the recent losses in our community. Many of us are grieving the beloved memory of these fallen students. In an effort to avoid losing any more of them, our chief of police is going to set a few rules in place to keep our community safe from this unidentified individual.”

Principal Higgins steps back to offer Chief Hopper the floor. He steps forward, already looking tired as he directs his attention to the giant crowd staring at him.

He doesn’t bother with pleasantries. He gets straight to business. “From now on and until the killer is found, a town-wide curfew will be implemented.” People start murmuring in protest. “No one is to be out of their homes past nine o’clock. All doors will be locked and-”

Everyone is talking now. There are murmurs and shouts and boo’s and all kinds of protest as they respond frustratedly to these new rules. You personally don’t oppose them too much…

“You gotta be fucking kidding me,” Jake groans.

“This fucking sucks!” “What the hell, man?” “Seriously?” “We didn’t do anything!”

Chief Hopper isn’t having it. He cares little for the commotion, and it’s really just pissing him off.

“Hey!”

Everyone is immediately silenced. His voice is even harder now as he yells over the silence. He makes sure to enunciate every word. “All doors and windows will be locked. You are advised to come to school and then go straight home to reduce the risk of being hurt. Police will be patrolling the streets to ensure these rules are being followed. We advise you to stay in groups and be vigilant of your surroundings. Anyone caught breaking curfew will be brought in for questioning, which could lead to a possible arrest.” There’s more silence. No one wants to interrupt him again. “Am I understood?”

Everyone murmurs their reluctant agreement.

“Thank you.”

He stands back again. Principal Higgins steps forward. “Thank you, Chief Hopper.” He clasps his hands together. “Now let us all close our eyes and bow our heads for…”

You’ve tuned him out by now. You don’t have the strength to listen to him right now. You keep replaying that note in your head over and over again.

Once they’re all gone, we will be together…

“They’re calling him Ghostface,” Jake mumbles, keeping his voice low to avoid being called out. “‘Cause of the mask they found at Cassidy’s crime scene.”

You try not to flinch. “Why are we calling him anything but a murderer?”

He shrugs. “I mean, there are a lot of murderers.”

You glance at him, but you ultimately keep your gaze fixated on your hands as you rub at your palms. “I don’t think we should be villainizing him. I mean, people actually like villains.” I’ll pull all the loose strings for you, my little puppet…

He sighs lightly. “I think it’s a pretty sick name.”

“Jake.”

“Just saying.”

There’s a weird feeling burning into your back, like someone’s watching you. It spreads like a wave, and you fight the urge to shudder as you glance behind you to see what it is.

You see Eddie, and your worries are set aside. He offers a tiny grin and a thumbs up. He wants to know if you’re okay. You return the smile as best you can and give him your own thumb. You turn back around, feeling a little better about everything.

As soon as the assembly is dismissed, everyone is making their way back to class or wherever they intend to go. Jake kisses your temple and runs off with his buddies. Brynn and Andrew go with him.

Walking by yourself, you rub a hand over your arm to self-soothe. You’re at school. Nothing is going to happen while you’re at school. You go to your locker just to be there. You don’t want to go to class yet, and you don’t want to stand in the middle of the gym or the hall like some loser.

You’re there for barely a minute before someone’s standing next to you. You flinch when you realize it, quickly calming when you recognize Eddie and his sweet face. He gives you an apologetic look. “You okay? Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

You nod, grabbing his arm and sighing with a small smile. “All good.” You grab your stuff and start down the hall with him at your side. You assume he’s walking you to class because his is at the other side of the school.

“How are you…?”

Both of you pause at the sound of Eddie’s name, pausing by the hall as you hear the familiar voices of some of Jake’s team members.

“Your girlfriend hangs out with that Munson guy?”

“I keep telling her.” Jake seems as displeased as Tommy H.

“Your girl’s a fucking freak for that, man.” That’s Andrew, Brynn’s boyfriend. You’ve learned to tune him out at this point.

“Hey, cut it out, Andy.” Chance is probably the most sane of the group, but he’s still an asshole. “That’s his fucking girlfriend.”

“Keep talking shit about her, and I’ll fuckin’ kill you.”

Tommy’s voice is obnoxious. “Shouldn’t say that, or they’ll arrest you.” A round of laughter sparks among them. Jake’s is the loudest.

“Maybe they should.”

“They should just arrest Munson,” Chance deadpans. Your grasp tightens around a textbook. You’re getting sick of hearing it. “We all know it’s him.”

“Since your girl’s suckin’ face with him, maybe she’s in on it, too… But that’d make her a slut.”

Everyone laughs, even as you hear the scuffle of shoes and ruffle of clothes as some weird play fight breaks out between them. You assume it’s between Jake and Tommy.

Eddie’s hand gently grabs your arm, crowding your space to put a barrier between you and them. His gaze is schooled on your face. He seems really upset, but he hides it well so he can comfort you. You scoff, shaking your head as you stare blankly at the floor, your face set in passionate displeasure.

“I fucking hate jocks.”

“Yeah. Me, too,” he mutters, stroking your arm. Goosebumps erupt over your skin, your entire arm gets covered in them. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

You nod, looking up at him and letting the concern in his eyes ease you. “Yeah.” You readjust your grip on your book, turning the other to walk to his class instead. He lets you, because he knows you’re trying to self-soothe and he doesn’t want to interrupt that. “I’m more upset about everyone always assuming it’s you. Like they know you or something.” You mumble the last part more to yourself, but he hears it loud and clear. It’s heartwarming, your support of him.

“That’s sweet,” he says, “but I don’t really care that much.” Like he’s said before, he’s used to it. You still don’t like it, and he loves that about you. “I don’t know too many girls who take kindly to being called a slut.” He stops you so that he can properly look at you. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nod, giving him your best smile in an attempt to convince him. He’s so sweet. You don’t want him to worry. “I’m good,” you shrug nonchalantly. “His friends are just assholes. It’s whatever.”

He doesn’t fully believe you, but he doesn’t want to press and stress you out. So he just nods and says, “Hey, you can sit with me during lunch so you don’t have to sit with them.”

You smile, and this time he believes it. “That sounds great.”

~

You’ve rustled through your bag maybe seven times now, and you still can’t find it. The amount of distress it’s causing you is a little unnerving. One thing. You just want one thing to be simple.

“Shit.” Eddie looks over at you, watches you put your head against the lunch table with a force that concerns him. He reaches a hand out and rubs circles along your back unprompted. “I left my notebook for my next class in my car.”

He raises a brow. “Are they really important?”

You turn your head to look at him. “If I miss any of these notes, I’m not passing this test.” And your teacher is a true asshole who refuses to delay the test even a single day to give you all a break.

Eddie’s already moving to stand, offering his hand to you. “I’ll go with you. You know, to keep you safe.”

You glance over at the table where Jake sits. He keeps looking over at you. When you slip your hand into Eddie’s, you know he’s pissed. You don’t mind it too much. “Thanks, Eddie.” He gives you one of those big smiles.

You walk with Eddie out of the cafeteria. There’s a cop posted at the door who checks the both of you out before letting you leave. The sun is really bright, despite the depression inside. It’s actually a bit glaring as you shield your vision from it. Eddie’s not having much luck with it either.

Eddie walks closely by you, and you appreciate the sentiment. You don’t feel as unsafe as you should—maybe it’s because it’s daytime and there are people around you. Nothing is going to happen in broad daylight.

You should really learn not to think things like that, though.

Eddie practically jumps in front of you as the loud screeching of tires alarms everyone around you. You startle, immediately looking towards the car that’s speeding through the parking lot. It’s loud and explosive. It hurts your ears, and you look away because you don’t know if you can take all this shock. You’re going to have a heart attack in your teens.

You cover your ears when it just barely crashes against the back of a car, bouncing off of it just to catapult into a giant pole.

The front is entirely caved in. There’s steam billowing from the hood as the back tires roll. One of the doors has flung open, and you stare in shock at what’s just happened. It takes you a moment to process Eddie’s protective arm over your front. You set a hand on his shoulder, and he immediately turns to examine you. “Are you okay?” he asks quickly, frantic as he looks over every part of you like you were the thing the car hit.

You start to nod when a blood curdling scream fills the air. Your head shoots to the scene of the crash, and you’re running toward it before you can even register Eddie’s protests. He chases after you.

You don’t know what you expected, but it wasn’t this.

It’s gruesome and graphic. Your hands fly to your mouth as you fight the urge to scream at the sight of two bloodied bodies lying cold in the back seat. They’ve been completely mutilated with the amount of times they’ve been stabbed all over. If you hadn’t known them so well, you probably wouldn’t have been able to make them out with all the blood and tears spread over their faces.

Telling flesh from organs (or even clothes) proved difficult. It was a mess of fabric and tissue. Some places were so abused that you could see bone sticking out of wounds, surrounded by flesh and meat. Your gut churned and churned. You wanted to look away, you’re almost begging to look away but you can’t.

That’s two jocks now, four dead bodies. First Jason, then Cassidy…and now Tommy H and Carol Perkins.

Their wide eyes are unblinking…

You can hear your breath in your ears. Everything else is so loud and muffled—the screams, the shouts, the chatter—but the heavy gasps of your lungs is a pound in your head that you can’t tune out. Everything seems to slow as you stare at the two, their bodies unmoving and broken by glinting blades. All you do is stare.

You don’t realize Eddie’s arm wrapped around your waist until he turns your head from the scene. You try to look back, but he’s shielding your gaze with his hand so that you can only look at him. “Hey, hey, hey.” His voice, though thick with breath and something you can’t place with the way your brain rushes, is grounding. “You’re okay. Let’s go. Come on.”

You just follow him because he’s the only steady thing you can focus on. He crowds you with his body, and you let him before it gives you something to focus on. The sight of them is still in your head, stuck to your brain like a dart in a dartboard. You don’t understand. You want to understand.

You don’t notice more people bursting through the doors. You don’t notice the cops following after with their guns drawn as they scream at everyone to get out of the way. You don’t notice more screams filling the air and police sirens from the cars already in the parking lot. You focus on Eddie’s warm palm against your palm as the other holds your hand tight.

You don’t know how much time has passed before you come to. Eddie’s rubbing your back and letting you rest your head on his shoulder. Everything seems calm enough to feel real. You lift your head heavily and look at him. His gaze is distant, and you take it as shock.

You tuck your arm under his to wrap it around his back. He looks down at you, blinking a couple times before continuing to just sit next to you. Everything is fine.

It takes longer than it should for you to remember Jake. When you think you can stand, you place a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and tell him insistently, “I…I’m going to find Jake. He’s probably freaking out, and…just please be safe. Please don’t get hurt. Be safe, please.”

Eddie nods, squeezing your hand gently before letting you go. “You, too. I’ll see you later, right?”

It takes a moment to process. “Yes. Yeah, I’ll try to call you.” He nods, squeezes your hand again, and then lets you go. As you turn away toward the thick crowd, you see Jonathan Byers joining Eddie. Argyle and Robin find them a moment later. At least he’s got company.

Everyone is in the cafeteria now. There’s police at every door keeping anyone from leaving. It’s very crowded, and for a moment, you think you can’t breathe, but you need to find your boyfriend.

It takes you a long time to find him. When you do, it looks like he's just now being told what's happened by his teammates. Brynn is at his side with Andrew holding her hands, speaking slowly. You finally get to them and drop to your knees to look up at him. He sits down heavily, dropping his face in his hands. He looks really tired.

“Jake?” you whisper, brushing his hair back from his face and gently holding his face to lift it up. He sees you, and his eyes dart between your own. His expression is so far away, and you begin to worry yourself sick. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as you wait for anyone to tell you anything about what’s going on.

They send you home in groups, canceling school for the rest of the week while they’re at it. You worry about Jake driving, but he’s assured you that you’re okay enough and traffic is slow already. He drives in front of you, and you busy yourself with reading and rereading his plate numbers a million times just to try to avoid thinking about the corpses in Tommy H’s car.

You go to your house first. You hate the thought of walking in there right now, but you need clothes and things if you’re staying at Jake’s house for the next couple of days. You reach through the window of his truck on the way in, sliding a hand down his face. “You okay?”

He nods. He looks like he’s coming back to himself, but he’s still (obviously) deeply upset. “I’m good.”

You kiss his forehead before you’re headed inside with hesitant steps. Once the door is unlocked and open, you move quickly in an effort to grab all the things you need. As you’re passing the kitchen, you notice something sitting on the table. There wasn’t anything there when you were last here.

You swallow thickly, closing your eyes and slowly turning on your heel. When you open your eyes again to see, you swallow the insistent lump in your throat and set your bag on the counter. You walk slowly into the kitchen, and your hands begin to tremble all over again.

The note is the same handmade paper as before. This time, the smudge is on the outside over your name. Your heart is pounding so fast, you can’t even fathom focusing on it right now. You reach a hand out to grab it.

You hear Jake’s shoes as he steps through the front door. You swipe up the note and hide it behind your back as his gaze finds you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his tone sort of lazy.

You shake your head. “Nothing. I’m just gonna get my stuff.” You start walking toward the stairs.

“I’ll come with you.”

“No,” you sound more desperate than you mean to. But he wouldn’t understand. “No, it’s fine. Please don’t.”

He stares at you for a moment before deciding it’s not that big a deal. He steps back, nodding to himself. “Okay.” He turns on his heel and walks back to his truck to wait for you.

You rush upstairs, shoving open your bedroom door and locking it behind you. You almost yelp when you turn and see a black rose sitting on your bed. You slap a hand over your mouth and close your eyes to center yourself, breathing like that will make the rose disappear—and the letter, too, for that matter.

You lean against the door, your breath shaky as you look at the envelope. You tear it open slower than you had the first, pulling out the letter inside like it will explode if you’re not careful enough.

When all our enemies are dead and buried, we will be the ones laughing together. Soon, my perfect little puppet.

Your breath shudders as memories of just earlier that day pulse in your ears, Tommy and the team laughing at you for “being a slut”. Without wasting a second, Tommy haunts you with the sight of his open eyes, wide and bloodshot—as if he’d just seen a ghost.

This letter goes with the last one. You throw it into the closet and turn to your dresser for some clothes to stuff in a bag. But the top drawer is already open. A pair of underwear is missing. The only reason you know that is because it's the only red pair you have, and it’s not glaring you down.

You shake your head, grabbing the first sets of clothes you see and stuffing them in the bag. You lock all your windows, you lock your bedroom door behind you, you run down the stairs and ignore the fact that you could trip and fall at any moment (effectively breaking your neck and ridding you of the exhaustion of the mess that is your life right now).

You keep (re-locking) every lockable door and window in your house before you finally reach the front door. Once you’re sure it’s locked tight, you rush to Jake’s car with your bag thrown over your shoulder. You toss it in the back, and Jake pulls away as soon as your seatbelt is on. You’re glad he doesn’t ask you what’s wrong, because you know you’re not subtle.

~

The night is a little better once you get to Jake’s place (at least, it is for him once he's had a few beers). Brynn is over—Andrew had to stay home, his parents were too worried to let him leave the house.

But you've got the house all to yourselves. Jake's father is working all night at the precinct. There's no way he's coming home with a killer on the loose—a killer who's already claimed two jocks so far. He's not very keen on a third, especially with such a personal risk.

There's a movie on, and it's a nice distraction for them. Your mind is a little too preoccupied with the events of today (the events of the past few days).

As you glance over at Jake, you set a hand on his knee. There was a flash of something sad in his eyes for a moment. His mood, although it has improved, is still a little sour. It isn't so low that he looks like he isn't there—no, the beer has helped with that—but there's a faintness there that concerns you.

“You okay?” It's a dumb question, but it's the only one you've got. Brynn looks over.

Jake glances at you, nodding. “Yeah,” he says. “Just can't believe he got Tommy.” He shakes his head. “It's not fucking cool, he was a good dude.”

You can admit that you never really liked him. But that wasn't a reason for him to die.

He stands, swirling his empty beer can in his hand and going to grab another. You're still sipping—you never really liked the taste of beer, and Brynn seems to be almost through with hers.

He rustles through the fridge and cracks open another can. “I don't even know why anyone would do this.” He takes a generous swig, running a hand through his hair and shutting the fridge door.

“A fucking psycho, that's who,” Brynn mutters. She drapes a hand over her face. “Who knows what else he'll do?”

Jake scoffs, rolling his eyes. “I try not to think about it.”

You swallow thickly, looking down at your hands as you twirl your thumbs around the other. Brynn glances at you when you say nothing. You're doing that thing where the crease between your brows folds and unfolds. Something’s off.

“What's wrong?” she mutters. Jake looks at you.

You don't know how to tell them. You don't even know if they'll understand. Besides, with everything going on, your problems aren't nearly as important.

You go to dismiss it, but as you glance up and see them both watching you, you realize that you cannot sit here and pretend that nothing is bothering you this time. You look away, trying to find the words and feeling like you’re grasping at straws in a simple attempt at voicing your concerns.

“I…” You take a steadying breath, remembering the notes written to you on letters stained with blood. Fear circles your throat and makes it difficult to speak. You look up at Jake and Brynn. What if saying something about this meant they would both die? What if this thing, this sick, twisted thing going on between you and the killer means that everyone you love will end up dead?

Once again, you go to deny them the truth, the ugly truth of your peril…but you’ve already made that impossible. You swallow thickly, clearing your throat and hoping it will give you some courage.

“I’ve been getting these…these letters.” You clasp your hands together in an effort to stop their trembling. Your voice is soft, so soft that you don’t think they can hear you. “I think it’s from…him.”

Jake’s hand flexes, and you think for a moment that he’ll spill beer all over the place from crushing the can in his fist. “Who?” You think it’s possession over protection.

“The killer,” you say. Then your voice gets weaker. “Ghostface.”

Brynn makes a face. One that tells you that she doesn’t quite believe you. “Why would you be getting letters from this psycho?”

They’re not understanding. They don’t hear the fear in your voice.

“I don’t know. They’re these twisted love letters. I swear to God, there was blood on one of them.” You bring your knees up to your chest, trying to find warmth where fear has made your blood cold. You don’t look at them as you shake your head. It’s an absurd thing to say, but all of what’s happening is absurd. “I think this guy is killing for me.”

Brynn shakes her head, finding logic where you’re too emotional to look. “That doesn’t make sense.”

Jake agrees, coming back to the living room to lean on the couch beside you. “It’s probably just some fuckin’ creep playing with you.” He drinks from his can.

As reasonable as they sound—at least, it’s more reasonable than the theory you have—you can’t believe it. Too much has happened, and this is all too fucked up to try to rationalize. You shake your head, turning your body to face him.

“You don’t understand. He got into my house.” Jake’s eyes aren’t clear, and he looks generally unfazed. You reach a hand out to grasp his own, squeezing it to try to get him to listen to you. “He was there today.”

He tilts his head down. The way he looks at you is nothing if not condescending, but you try not to see it that way. “Maybe you left your door unlocked.” You think, as the son of a police officer, he should be more upset about something breaking into your house. Hell, as your boyfriend, he should be more upset about a guy breaking into your house. “Ie,” he continues, “someone’s playing a trick on you.”

You tilt your head, your anxious frustration turning to something more angry. “I always lock the door. Especially when my parents aren’t home—especially when there’s a psycho killer on the loose.” He shakes his head. You take his face in your hands, making him look at you again. “Jake, Cassidy tried to get me fired. I heard Tommy talking about me today.”

“And Jason?” he nearly snaps. He steps away from you completely. “How’s he connected, huh?”

You swallow. He’s the only one who sticks out. Jason was never unkind to you—though you know he can be unkind. He was, to those that counted to him, as gentlemanly as a jock can get.

You look down. “I…” You clear your throat lightly. “I don’t know, but I know something’s wrong.”

“Yeah, four people are dead.” He almost slams his beer on the counter. His voice cracks slightly, and he runs a hand through his messy hair. He speaks quietly, though not lacking the hurt in his voice. “That’s what’s wrong.”

You know he, Jason, and Tommy were friends, you know how much they mean to him. But—damn it—you should mean just as much! He’s supposed to have your back through this, just like you’ve had his. You’ve tried to be good to him this whole time, and then when you try to tell him how afraid you are, he throws it in your face.

It’s getting to be too much. You have grown used to the flimsy support of those close to you. You parents are almost always gone, your boyfriend has his team, your best friend has her boyfriend. Things used to be so good, and they’ve just been getting so stressful. You never ask for anything from any of them, and the one time you do, you’ve served with a steaming bowl of hot shit. It’s too much.

“I feel like I’m going crazy here, and neither of you are listening to me.” You run your hands down your face, covering your eyes and trying to steady your breath, trying to ease the heat in your chest from all the anger gathering there. “I feel like-like I’m being watched all the time.”

Brynn speaks up. “You’re just paranoid.”

“He was in my house!

You couldn’t stop it once it was out. Your shout was louder than you’d anticipated, and you feel like it’s the first time your words have ever been forced straight from your chest. There’s so much there that you feel like you have to catch your breath as the silence sits thick in the space between the three of you.

You look at Brynn. She stares down at her lap, timidly picking her nails. You look at Jake. He’s got his face in his hand as he leans against the counter.

They don’t believe you.

You can’t make them.

You stand up quickly, pushing yourself off the couch so hard that you almost fall forward. “I don’t need this.” You shove past Jake on your way to the hall, “You guys are supposed to have my fucking back.” Brynn turns to Jake, her eyes unblinking. You climb the stairs and barge into his room, grabbing your bags and repacking the things you’ve set out.

Jake has followed you up the stairs. “Come on, babe. Don’t act like this.”

It makes you seethe. “I’m going home.”

“How? You live too far, and you don’t have a ride.” You glare at him. That’s his concern. “Besides, you shouldn’t be out by yourself.” He adds it on like an afterthought.

You shake your head, closing your eyes and taking a steadying breath. “Then I’ll call someone to get me.” You slam your bag shut, forcing the zipper closed with far too much strength. “I just can’t fucking look at you right now.”

Jake grabs you, stopping you from what you’re doing to make you look at him. “Hey, babe, look, I’m sorry. Okay?” He makes you face him, his hands on your elbows as he cages you in. You turn your face away. “I’m being a huge dick… I believe you, okay?”

You huff, glancing at him out of the corner of your eyes. You take in the sight of him, trying to determine if he’s lying to you. He seems upset, genuinely. It’s foolish hope, but it’s hope, and that’s all you really want right now. “Do you?” It’s more accusing than it is anything else.

His voice is low, and he cradles your face in his hand. You let yourself, reluctantly, lean into his palm. “If that’s what you want.” You don’t like his response, but you push it away. He’s never had a way with words. “I’m sorry.” He pulls you close, bringing his other hand to wrap around your waist. “Let me make it up to you.”

You sigh, allowing yourself for just a moment to think maybe…maybe he means it. His thumb brushes over your cheek, the corner of his lips curves up. He leans in.

“Are you fucking serious right now?”

You shove him hard. You clench your fists at your side and feel yourself reaching a level of anger that is generally foreign to you. You're used to pushing it away.

Jake's shock quickly turns to annoyance, which forms a deep frustration as he huffs. “I'm so fucking sorry,” he mocks. He crowds your space, his face merely inches from his own as he speaks in a low voice that feels like he's shouting. “Two of my friends are dead, and you're making it all about you.”

You want to feel bad, but you can't. You're tired of feeling bad, you're tired of letting yourself be overlooked. What kills you is that he can't even realize that you're not okay—that you're hardly ever okay.

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” You stare in shock and partially in pain, though you try to keep that hidden. It claws at your throat, and you feel like you can't speak; you push through it, despite the burning coals stuck in your throat. “I'm genuinely terrified that someone is trying to hurt me, and you're acting like this?”

He looks like he's about to rip his hair out—which is the point you're reaching as well. “Nobody is trying to hurt you! You're fucking delusional. Jesus Christ, why do you have to be such a whiny little bitch?”

A mix of emotions run through you, but all you do is stand there. You stand and you stare at him, eyes wide and welling, lips parted as your brows dip low.

It's one thing to have a stray thought that your boyfriend finds you annoying—even, perhaps, that he hates you. It's another thing entirely to have those theories confirmed, and in such a way! You look at the features of his face, all the rage and frustration peeling back into fatigue and a hint of regret. You stare even longer, longer than you were meant to, just wanting to see more regret than what he's giving.

You want him to fall to his knees and cry, to beg your forgiveness. But you know he would never beg. You know he would never fall. He never did. It was always you.

After all this time, you were always the one falling.

Ideally, you know you both need to take a step back, get some space. You need to clear your head and think about this so you can come back and figure this out. Especially with everything going on, feelings running high. You should be rational.

But you can't. 

The only thing you want to do right now is slam the door in his face, leave him standing there looking stupid. Because if you come back, if you make up and go back to normal…

You don't know how much more you can take.

Jake takes a step forward. “Babe–”

“Get the fuck away from me.”

“Babe, I'm sorry. I'm just–”

You hit his hand away when he reaches for you. “Don't fucking touch me.” You stare at him for a second longer, shaking your head before turning sharply to grab your bags. You make for the door.

“Babe–”

“Rot in Hell.”

You slam the door in his face, rushing down the stairs as quickly as you can. Brynn spots you, walking up to you quickly as she looks down at your bags. “Where are you going?”

“Fuck off.”

“You don't have your car–!” You slam the front door shut. You make sure Jake can hear it from upstairs.

No one follows you. You trek down the sidewalk, your feet heavy and your grip on your bags tight. Your heart is beating so hard, it comes with the sound of thunder in your ears. You know you're about to cry, you can feel it in the heaviness of your chest, the tightness in your throat, the hoarseness of every breath you take. You think briefly that you may die.

But the longer you walk, the longer you realize that you are outside. It's past curfew, late at night. You are alone.

And there's a killer on the loose.

It's the most inconvenient time for tears to fall. You can't see well, and you're breathing so heavily that you can't hear what's going on around you.

The streets are bare. There's no one around. The sky is drenched in darkness. Everyone is inside hiding from the killer, where they should be.

Where do you go?

You have no car. You live too far to walk. You refuse to go back and ask for a ride. You refuse to go back.

You swallow thickly, picking up the pace as you rush to the nearest payphone. There's one close by, you’ve passed by it a million times.

Once you're inside, you close the door quickly. But as soon as your hand is reaching for loose quarters in your bag, you realize they're shaking. You watch them, like leaves rattling in the window. As you bring them slowly to your face, you can't help it when your knees buckle.

You let yourself be carried to the ground, unable to hold it together long enough to find safety. It's all coming down so quickly, and you don't have the sense to allot time to cry after you've found it.

You'd hoped you were wrong, that your friends actually loved you. What a fool you were to believe such a thing. You'd grown so used to such a skewed perception of love that you don't think you'd be able to distinguish that from your twisted need to please every goddamn person you meet.

You like to believe that, at one point, it was real. It had to have been, right? It's been almost a year since you and Jake met. And Brynn has been your best friend since the beginning of high school. But that kind of distrust, those kinds of insults don't come from a place of love.

No, you don't think Jake ever truly loved you. It was simple attraction—attraction that wore off, that he probably got sick of but felt too obligated to preserve because you need someone. And there was a time for you and Brynn, but it has since passed.

You held on too tight.

It's nighttime and the sun has long since set. By the time you clear your face, you feel stupid for crying before finding safety. There are more important things than this.

You take a steadying breath. You need to be rational again.

You stuff a quarter in the slot and clear your throat as you bring the phone to your ear. It rings a few times, and you're scared he won't pick up.

“Hello?”

You recognize the voice, but it's not the one you're looking for. “Hey…” You clear your throat again. “I'm looking for Eddie? I'm one of his friends, we've actually met before.”

Eddie's Uncle Wayne pauses to think. You can imagine him scratching his head and rubbing his neck. He says your name in his low, gravelly voice.

You nod as if he can see you. “Yes, that's me.”

“Ah. Well,” he clears his own throat, “Eddie's at one of his friend's houses right now. That Harrington boy, should be. Staying in groups and all that.”

“Okay.” You hadn't anticipated that. You chew on your lip thoughtfully, trying to decide your best course of action. You know Steve, so maybe you'll be welcome. “Do you think you could give me his number?”

He makes this grunting sound, which is just the sound of him thinking. “Let's see,” he mumbles. “Should be in here somewhere.”

You've only interacted with Wayne a few times. He's very mellow, but he's kind and welcoming. And Eddie adores him.

“Harrington residence. What's up?”

“Hey. Steve? Is Eddie there?”

He says your name, double checking. It's been a little while since you've spoken, with him graduating and all.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah, he's here.”

You let out a quiet breath of relief. “Could I speak to him?”

“Yeah, hang on.”

There's a shift. Then you hear Steve shout his name.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He already sounds concerned. “What's the matter?”

You rub your face. “Got into it with…” you take a deep breath and hope you don't sound as dreadful as you felt, “with Jake and Brynn. I don't wanna be home by myself. I know it’s past curfew but…” You glance around you in the dark. “Do you think you could come get me?”

There's a pause, and you wonder if you've said something wrong. Eddie is all enthusiasm. He's loud and excited, and he's quick to respond because he's happy to respond.

The silence makes you nervous.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah!” he recovers. “Yeah, of course. Where are you right now?”

You're glad he doesn't ask how you are. “I'm on Jake's street still.”

You hear a jingle. “Stay there. I'll be there in a few minutes.” You're surprised he doesn't ask why you're outside so late, but you're grateful nonetheless.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you smile.

You can hear his own smile through the phone. He's sticky with affection, and it makes you feel safe. “No worries, sweetheart.”

Continued....

Stranger Things taglist: @activebliss @queermaxwooo @life-on-needs @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen @emmalee-01 @sw34ter-w34ther @gublur @allofmaris @redwineandnicotine @the-cryptid @katsukis1wife @chaoticcancer @papichulo120627 @emistrash @jjmaybankswifes-blog @thegr8estpuff @lover-of-books-and-tea @xxhanililoxx @quickslvxrr Eddie the Banished taglist: @iiiiluvhobie @eddiiiieeee @hb8301 @queermaxwooo @lovemegood @munsaniac @digital-charlie @eiriancrow @littleblondesoprano @alexxavicry @samz31 @sparkletash @fandomgirl17 @marjoriea13 @akiratoro420 @mewchiili @mischieftom @hiscrimsonangel

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | end up here

a/n: i'm going FERALLLLLLL over this chapter. enjoy poisoned mercury's debut album hehe.

iv. end up here by 5sos

series masterlist | previous | next

“your band name doesn’t even make any sense,” you argued, eyes narrowing at the boy in front of you. 

luke crashed your secret spot, again, and refused to let you smoke in silence until you gave him a detailed explanation of how your day went. he knew you didn’t smoke every day, only on days that were particularly hard. he noticed that your bad days always had something to do with your dad, but it didn’t feel like the right moment to bring that up. 

anyway, you got fed up with his badgering and that stupid smirk on his face because he knew you were about to crack, and decided that if he was going to act like a toddler, you would too. hence, why you were now bringing up his band name. 

luke took offense to that because he thought the band name was cool. he was the one to suggest it. he crossed his arms over his chest, trying not to let his hurt show on his face, “what do you mean? poisoned mercury is a sick name.” 

“mercury is already poisonous. your band name is like redundant or some shit.” 

“then why did so many people in history ingest it?” luke asked, recalling the one thing he remembered from his high school history class before he dropped out. he took a drag from his cigarette, turning his body a bit so the wind didn’t blow the smoke directly in your face. 

“they fucking died, castellan,” you replied, deadpan. 

“oh,” he blinked, staring off, “i didn’t know that.” 

you rolled your eyes, a habit that you’ve picked up whenever you were with him and sat back down on the bench. luke joined you, silent as he thought about what you just said. he really needed to stop zoning out during lessons, but since he was already out of high school, he guessed it didn’t matter anymore. 

as much as you hate to admit it, luke castellan was growing on you. sure, he got on your nerves like nobody else– the boy just doesn’t quit– but, he wasn’t half as bad as you originally thought. not that you’d ever tell him that though. 

when you got back to the cabin last week after helping with concert prep, the cabin was spotless. there were no empty red bull cans in sight, the table tops were free of crumbs, floor vacuumed and mopped, and there was even a candle burning on the counter. you approached your bedroom door to find a post-it on the handle. luke’s messy writing was smudged around the corners, but you could still make out what it said. 

“five star, 

i snitched on the boys and my mom will have a stern talk with them about their cleanliness. can’t promise that people will stop talking about me, but i can promise you won’t have to live in the dojo casa house mojo or whatever it was. 

ps i’m using the spot tomorrow, just thought i should let you know. maybe we can set up a calendar for reservations. 

luke :)” 

the cabin hasn’t been as messy since. whatever may castellan told the boys worked like a charm. there was still the occasional trash, but nothing crazy. it smelled better in the cabin too, still like a boy, but it smelled like expensive cologne more than anything. cedarwood and pine. 

and thankfully, the luke castellan hype train was starting to run out of steam, with many people finally realizing that he was also just a human being and the surprising revelation that luke castellan was not entertaining anyone during his time at camp helped with it as well. you still heard whispers about him here and there, but you were glad the topic of conversation was beginning to switch to something else. 

you and luke walked to the gym and back home every morning together. he and the boys sat with you and clarisse during meals. they tagged along for music lessons and spoke to the kids, which they really appreciated. they helped the older campers with writing music, luke particularly. you’d been around a few musicians in your life and many of them only kissed ass when your dad was around, but poisoned mercury was different. they were passionate about their music. that was clear.

after a conversation with clarisse, where she managed to convince you that not all musicians are like your ex, you began to let loose a little bit. you hung out with the boys more, partly as an excuse so clarisse could hang out with chris without causing too much suspicion, and found that you actually enjoyed their company. and luke castellan? well, he wasn’t half bad. that doesn’t mean he got off easy though. 

you took a hit of your vape, facing him, “are you done interrogating me?” 

“for now, yeah,” he smiled as you shook your head. “are you coming to the concert tonight?” 

“well, i did help organize it.” 

“a simple yes would’ve sufficed, five star,” luke teased, relighting his cigarette. it was burning unevenly and luke was never one to waste his cigarettes. “you gonna watch us play?” 

“don’t have a choice. dad wants me there the whole time.” 

“you can act a little excited,” luke ran a hand through his curls, “we are pretty good, you know.” 

“i know,” you hummed. the sun was beginning to set and there was a slight breeze in the air. goosebumps formed on your skin, the t-shirt and denim shorts you wore didn’t offer much comfort. you shivered, “i have listened to your music.” 

“are you cold?” 

your teeth chattered, but you shook your head, “i’m fine.” 

luke took off his hoodie, tossing it in your direction, “take it.” 

“no,” you tossed it back to him, “told you i’m good.”

always so stubborn, luke thought.  

“if you catch a cold, that’s not on me,” he placed the hoodie on the bench between the two of you. “which songs have you listened to?” 

“kilby girl, of course. it played on the radio so much when you guys first dropped it,” you said, remembering the days where you and your hometown friends would blast it in the car. it reminded you of high school, reckless decisions, life-long memories, and the thrill of knowing you were going to be playing the sport you’d worked so hard to excel in at a d1 level in the fall. you looked at him, sincerity in your eyes, “i really like family line. it might be my favorite.” 

luke’s eyebrows shot up. not many people talked about family line. it was probably their least streamed song. they never performed the song on tour because it was difficult for luke to sing it. it was a personal song to him. it was inspired by his relationship with his father, or lack thereof. 

when poisoned mercury first got signed to olympus records, luke sent a message to his dad on facebook. luke hadn’t tried to contact him since he was ten, not since his father returned his letter to him unopened, no response but a “return to sender” stamp plastered over the envelope. but after the small congratulatory party his mom set up for the band after they signed, luke felt like a little kid again, a kid who wanted to share the great news with his dad, so he found his dad on facebook, made an account, and sent him a message. 

he didn’t get a reply, which was expected, but it felt good for a second to pretend that he had a father to tell his good news to. luke thought he didn’t care about whether or not his dad was proud of him, but when his message went from “sent” to “read” a few days later, he was brought back to those moments in his life when he cried and wondered why he wasn’t enough to make his dad stay. he wrote family line in one sitting, on his bed in his bedroom in connecticut, looking at the little league medals on his wall that seemed to mock him. 

he originally didn’t want it on the album because he felt like it didn’t fit the vibe of the rest of the songs and that it was too real, too vulnerable for a debut album, but then he played it for his mom and she loved it. she cried when she first heard it and luke knew that even if people didn’t like the song, he was going to put it out for his mom. 

“huh,” he cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, “wasn’t expecting that one. thought you’d be more of a crash my car type of girl.” 

“i like that too,” you shrugged, “but family line. that song. i don’t think i have the words to describe it.” 

“thanks, five star,” luke looked down at his feet, taking a puff from his dying cigarette. “that’s my mom’s favorite, too.” 

“did you write it?” 

luke nodded, looking to face you. there was a new expression on your face, one that you’d never used with him before. it was a mix of disbelief and awe. he tried not to get offended that you didn’t think he could write something like family line, but he couldn’t blame you. he didn’t really portray the type of person who would be able to be that raw and vulnerable on a song. “me and trav write the lyrics for our songs, mostly. chris and connor help too, but the bulk of the lyrics are me.” 

“you need to stop doing that.”

he cocked his head to the side, crushing the cigarette butt on the hardware of the bench, “doing what?” 

“surprising me,” you shook your head, “i don’t like it.” 

“i don’t know what to tell you,” he chuckled, leaning back on the bench. he looked out into the lake, watching the sun disappear behind the mountains, “i have layers. you just gotta give me a chance.” 

“how do you do it?” you sat criss cross on the bench, leaning against the arm rest. “how do you write like that?” 

you’d always been curious about music, even if you weren’t good at it. your dad was never one to answer your questions, especially because you were interested in lyrics more than anything, and that wasn’t his forte. 

luke mimicked your actions, “i dunno. personal experience, i guess?”

you frowned, thinking about the lyrics of family line. luke never talked about his dad, but spoke highly of his mom. was family line based on his own life? if it was, his dad was an asshole. 

you relented to the cold, grabbing the hoodie that he left in between the two of you. you ignored the triumphant smile on his face when you draped the sweater over your bare legs, shielding them from the wind chills. 

he continued, “sometimes things happen to me that get me worked up and i have to write a song about it. sometimes, it’s based on my imagination. it depends.”

you wanted to ask him about his dad, but you didn’t know if he considered you guys friends yet. it’s not like you made it easy for him anyway. you could deal with the banters and annoyance, but you didn’t want to push him to talk about something he wasn’t ready to. you could be a dick, but you weren’t cruel. 

you changed the subject, “okay, let’s play a game.” 

“21 questions?” luke bit his bottom lip, trying not to laugh. he waggled his eyebrows, dodging your arm that reached out to smack him. 

“you’re gross,” you gagged, knowing the implications of the game, “no, i’m gonna ask about the songs on your album and you tell me if it’s real life or from your imagination.” 

“alright, go for it five star,” he beamed, propping his elbows on his crossed knees. he loved talking about music with anyone. he could go on and on for hours. 

“18.” 

“real,” luke snorted, remembering the first time travis pitched the idea for the song to the band, “but not my experience. it was trav. he met this girl at one of our gigs in new york, right after we got signed, and he was obsessed. she was a freshman at nyu and she kept telling him he was too young for her, even though she was just less than a year older. trav was hooked.” 

you could picture it. it was definitely something travis would do. “okay, another one of my favorites. only angel?” 

“not real,” luke shook his head, a slight blush creeping up on his face. “if you tell anyone, five star, i will vehemently deny it, but i had a crush on jade west from victorious and i wrote it about her.” 

there was something about jade west that made luke like a love-sick puppy. ignoring the fact that she was hot, her attitude was something that luke was attracted to. she had a tough exterior and acted like she didn’t care about people, but she had her moments where she was soft and kind to the people she cared about the most. luke liked that. the idea that someone could be sensitive but only to the people they deemed worthy. 

he’d spent so much of his life trying to be worthy, in whatever way the stage of his life defined it, and he craved it– a pat on the back, an approval, a confirmation that he was worthy of it. 

you threw your head back laughing, surprised by his ridiculous confession. the sound of your laughter rang across the woods, making luke smile. your voice echoed throughout the trees and he his senses were surrounded by you. it hit luke like a truck. 

he sucked in a breath, taking out his phone. he jolted from his seat for more than one reason. “shit, five star. we gotta go.” 

you took out your phone too, checking the time. your eyes widened as you got up from your seat. you threw his hoodie over to him, “fuck, we’re late.” 

the two of you raced out of the woods, arriving to the concert venue with flushed faces and rapid breaths. you could feel clarisse’s knowing eyes on you as you got ready for the concert. you tried your best to ignore it. you were going to deal with that later. 

–

“and for the final event, i know you guys are looking forward to this one,” your dad laughed into the mic. the sun was long gone and there were disco lights illuminating the stage. a smoke machine was on either corner, making it difficult to see the bottom half of the stage. you and clarisse stood in the front row, listening to the deafening cheers of the campers. “ladies and gents, welcome poisoned mercury!” 

the screams got louder which you didn’t even know was possible. travis entered the stage first, sticking his tongue out as he expertly twirled his drumsticks around his fingers. connor came in next, smiling and waving at the crowd as he plugged his guitar into the amp. chris walked in with his bass strapped around his neck, eyes immediately finding clarisse and sending her a shy smile. you nudged her teasingly, enjoying the way she blushed under the lights. 

then luke castellan walked in. he ditched his hoodie and t-shirt and walked in with a white tank top on, messing with the curls on his head. he tugged on the silver necklace around his neck as his eyes scanned the crowd. he threw a wink to the group of the older girls in the back, turning to travis to let out a laugh at their reaction. the lights on the boys were blinding and a thin layer of sweat already began to form on their skin despite the bite to the air. 

luke took center stage, picking up his guitar. he leaned over directly in front of you, fingers pretending to mess with the wires connecting his guitar to the speakers, “hey, five star.” 

he straightened his back before you could reply. clarisse’s eyes darted between you and the boy, now nudging you like you did to her earlier. you rolled your eyes, smiling at the rest of the boys as luke began talking on the mic. 

“what’s up, camp half blood?” luke screamed into the mic. the crowd roared. “we’re poisoned mercury and we are so happy to be with you guys here this summer. before we close out this awesome concert, i wanna introduce our lovely band.” 

“on drums, we have the one and only, travis stoll!” luke turned around to applaud travis as he did a little drum solo, head banging as he hit the drums. he turned to connor, “on lead guitar, we have the amazing connor stoll!” 

connor strummed his guitar, leaning over on the left side to soak in the applause of the crowd. the girls beside you swooned as he unleashed one of his award-winning smiles. 

luke faced chris, “and on bass, we have my very best friend in the entire world, my 4lifer, chris rodriguez!” clarisse cheered loudly for chris as he played a tune on his bass, mouthing, “love you, brother,” to luke as he played. the crowd quited for a second as luke addressed them again, “and my name is luke castellan. we’re poisoned mercury!” 

you turned around to look at the crowd. the size of the crowd tripled when the boys got on stage. everyone had a smile on their face, excited to hear them play. 

“the song we’ll be singing for you guys today is from our debut album,” luke adjusted his mic on the stand. he got closer to it, lips touching the metal, “this is only angel.” 

you couldn’t help but let out a laugh at their song choice. this was not the song they were supposed to sing. they’d been rehearsing kilby girl for the past week. luke saw your reaction, laughing along with you. 

the instrumentals began and you nearly missed the beat drop because of the cheers from the crowd. as the song progressed, the boys were one with the music. you watched luke sing, working the crowd like a pro. his skin glistened under the spotlight, beads of sweat tricking down the side of his face. he approached chris when the chorus started, dragging his mic stand with him. he swung his guitar around so it rested on his back as he sang the lyrics. his curls were sticking to his forehead, eyebrows raised in glee as he performed. 

you couldn’t take your eyes off the lead singer, not even when the rest of the band had their own solos in the song. your eyes were glued on luke; how his adam’s apple was on full display as he threw his head back, getting lost in the music, how his arms flexed as he wrapped the mic cord around his fist, how his thin tank top stuck to his body and how it raised when he lifted his arm up to bring the mic closer to his lips. you saw the outline of his abdomen and his v-line. 

but what really got you was his face. he looked at peace on stage, a wide smile on his face, full lips pink and glossy as he licked them in between verses. he looked incredible up there, like that was where he belonged. he was born to be on stage like this. 

“fuck,” you mumbled, applauding at the end of their song. luke’s eyes found yours as he sang the last bit of the song, smiling at you. you hoped clarisse couldn’t hear you talk to yourself. you looked down at your feet, tugging nervously on the collar of your shirt, “i get it now.”

[padfootagain]

Love in Verses (I)

Chapter 1 : ‘And that orange, it made me so happy, as ordinary things often do just lately’

Hi, everyone!!! I’m so glad to finally start posting this series! I know I’ve been talking about it for a while, and I thank all of you for being interested and even excited about it! I hope you won’t be disappointed!

The first chapters will set the plot into motion, of course, we need to get the story going!

I hope you like this series! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 3502

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

The Orange

At lunchtime I bought a huge orange— The size of it made us all laugh. I peeled it and shared it with Robert and Dave— They got quarters and I had a half.

And that orange, it made me so happy, As ordinary things often do Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park. This is peace and contentment. It’s new.

The rest of the day was quite easy. I did all the jobs on my list And enjoyed them and had some time over. I love you. I’m glad I exist.

Wendy Cope, The Orange and Other Poems, 2023

There was sunshine upon the Liffey that morning. A scent of new beginnings in the air, a whisk of excitement in the breeze.

You took a deep breath before entering the college grounds. This was what you had worked so hard for, for so long…

You were finally working in a university, you were a researcher, you would be teaching to younger generations about your passion. And every time you thought about that truth, that new reality, your heart made a happy jump, and a grin formed on your lips.

You were there. At long last. You had a teaching position, you had money for your research, and you had this at Trinity College, no less.

For now, there were no students, the grounds were empty, filled with nothing but old stones, bending trees and sunlight. The year had not begun yet, it was still the early days of August, filled with warm weather, summer storms and a tinge of sun here and there. It seemed that your first day was one of those sunny, warm days that felt too much like vacation time to work. A good omen, if you had ever seen one. A good omen for your life that seemed to fall perfectly into place these days. Professionally, you were achieving your goal today, with this position in the best university in Ireland. Your family was proud, and so were you. And on a personal point of view, you were engaged, to be married to a successful man. You glimpsed at the diamond on your finger. You didn’t have a date for the wedding yet, but you were aiming for spring of the coming year. Frank had proposed during the summer, while you were on a trip for your vacation in Wales. You smiled at the memory. You were lucky this year, your life was perfect, or at least, successful. You were ticking all the right boxes. What else could you ask for?

You walked between the still frames of Edmund Burke and Oliver Goldsmith, stepping finally on the grounds of Trinity College. And you took a deep breath as you stepped into the entrance hall, crossing the building to reach the first courtyard hidden inside. You gathered your thoughts, tried to slow down your beating heart that was pounding with nerves and excitement.

You were to meet one of the fellows of your department, Professor O’Connell. You had never met the woman, but she seemed kind enough on the phone, if strict in her tone. You checked your watch, but you were still seven minutes early. At least, you would not make a bad first impression because you were late…

You hurried under the archway at the centre of the yard, glancing at the forbidden green grass on both sides, and the tall buildings that surrounded it. You tried to calm yourself, thinking that you were an assistant professor already, even if this was your first stable job, that you knew what you were doing, that the papers you had already published were proof of your academic success and your worth as a researcher. You could do this. You could do this…

You walked towards the English department with hesitant steps, trying to follow directions on the various signs scattered across the grounds. A fifty-something woman waved at you from afar though, she seemed to be waiting in front of a building. You smiled, hurried towards her, hoping that you were not mistaken and that she was, indeed, the woman you were looking for…

“Y/N Y/L/N?” she asked, and you nodded your head with a grin.

“Yes! Professor O’Connell, I assume?” you answered, offering her your open hand, which she took with a smile.

“Oh, Lydia is more than enough. How are you?”

“Grand… grand…”

“Welcome to Trinity, I guess. I’ll guide you for a quick visit of our building, and then leave you in the competent hands of our HR department for you to sign off some paperwork. Come on, I’ll show you around.”

She guided you across the large stone building in which you would be working from now on. You easily got lost in the maze of corridors, staircases and halls you were crossing. Still, she showed you the cafeteria in which you were introduced to a few of your new colleagues, some of the classrooms, and finally she guided you to the HR, where a middle-aged woman gave you some paperwork to sign.

Lydia was waiting outside, ready to guide you to your office. A new maze of corridors opened before your feet, but you said nothing, figured that you would eventually get used to it. You took a turn to the right to another corridor, headed straight for the door a few steps ahead. Wooden, with two plaques fixed on its surface.

Dr. Andrew Hozier-Byrne

Dr. Y/N Y/LN

Your heart skipped a few beats at the sight of your name there, engraved in copper.

“You’ll be sharing your office with another of our assistant professors,” Lydia explained. “Andrew arrived last year, he’s working mostly on 20th century literature… but I’ll let him talk your ears off about his research.”

She knocked, didn’t wait for a response before opening the door.

The office was tiny, to say the least, but it was enough for the two desks and chairs set there, a wardrobe and a few shelves. There was a poster of Johnny Cash on one of the empty spots on the white walls, and a large window facing the door, behind one of the desks. The other desk was set on the left-side of the room, a tinier window behind it.

A man was sitting in the chair behind the desk in front of the larger window, and he looked up as the door opened and Lydia walked in, you following close behind.

“Good morning, Andrew,” Lydia greeted her colleague with a smile. “This is Y/N, our new assistant professor, who’s going to share your office this year.”

Andrew’s eyebrows arched slightly, although he still gave you a warm but shy smile, standing in a hurry. You couldn’t help your surprise as he stood up, towering you with an intimidating height. He seemed to have long hair, that he had tied in a bun. You studied his features, something kind and gentle made his hazel eyes shine, a short beard coloured his cheeks. He readjusted his glasses, as he quickly stepped around his desk. He was wearing a black turtleneck and dark jeans, there was a brown jacket thrown on the back of his chair.

You looked up at him as his smile widened just a little, still polite but with an extra-touch of kindness now. His body was intimidating though, and the fact that he was handsome wasn’t helping. He bent to avoid the lamp that was hanging from the ceiling.

“Of course! Erm… hi, nice to meet you,” he greeted you, offering you his open palm, avoiding eye-contact. You weren’t expecting how soft his voice was, how quiet his tone sounded. If his height gave something intimidating to his appearance, his voice countered that feeling, and you immediately felt more at ease.

“Hi! It’s very nice to meet you too, Andrew!”

“Alright, I’ll leave you to settle,” said Lydia, addressing you. “My office is down the corridor, if you need anything. But I’m sure Andrew can help you with the rest. The HR gave you everything you needed to access a computer?”

“Yes, I’ve got everything.”

“Good. Settle this morning, we’ll have a talk about your research this afternoon. The meeting for the upcoming year and classes is set later this week, you’ll get all the information you need for your teaching then.”

“Alright, thank you so much.”

She gave you a bright smile, before walking out of the room.

You were left alone with Andrew, who gave you another shy smile, rubbing at his palms.

“Erm… right… obviously, there is a large selection of desks you can choose from in this room,” he joked, his tone still stern, and you noticed how he was biting the inside of his cheek.

But you laughed good-heartedly at his joke, and he raised his eyebrows at your reaction.

“Hmm… I guess I’ll take this beauty over there,” you said, dropping your bag on your desk.

“Good choice,” he nodded, fleeing your gaze again. “Erm… I’ve emptied a couple of shelves over there for you too, and made some room in the wardrobe as well.”

“Thank you,” you smiled up at him and caught his eyes again, noticed their pretty hazel shade.

You turned on your computer, looked through your papers for the password that had been given to you so you could log in.

“So… what’s your research about?” he asked, a little awkward, shifting his weight while burying his hands in his pockets.

You noticed how he was bending his head and shoulders a little, as if to look smaller than he was.

“I work on feminism and the use of the female gaze in literature, as opposed to the male gaze.”

He raised an eyebrow, and you noticed how his gaze lit up with interest.

“Oh… that’s so interesting!”

You were surprised by the earnestness in his tone. The academic world was a particularly misogynistic one, after all. Most men in your field were enemies rather than allies.

“Yeah… I… I think so too,” you smiled, cursing yourself for your naïve answer. “I mean… If I chose to work on that, it means that I’m interested in it, but…”

He chuckled, the sound as quiet as his voice. You were still surprised by it, by the contrast it offered to his intimidating stature.

“Totally, yeah…”

“What about you?”

“20th century literature… mostly modernism and contemporary poetry. So… Lots of Joyce, Woolfe, Heaney and the likes.”

“Nice! That sounds interesting.”

“I mean… I teach a lot about modernism, but my research is more focused on poetry, especially poets who are currently writing.”

“That’s pretty rare, to have scholars studying contemporary art, instead of… dead people.”

You both chuckled at that.

“Yeah… but I… I mean… I value a lot the political weight of art, so… I find it more interesting to study something that talks about our current problems, rather than the problems from… four centuries ago or something...”

“Can’t argue with that,” you nodded.

You exchanged a smile, noticed that Andrew was relaxing as well by now.

“Erm… I’ll let you settle down, but… tell me if you need anything. Oh, and…”

Andrew nodded towards an empty frame tugged away against the wall, in a corner of the room.

“There’s an empty spot on the wall, feel free to hang something you like in it. As long as it’s decent enough.”

“Oh… I will refrain from a poster of my naked celebrity crush then,” you joked, making Andrew laugh again.

“Please, refrain. Although, I will accept your latest pagan ritual to summon Chtulhu or something…”

He tensed again, bit the inside of his cheek, as if he regretted his joke, but you laughed, and he seemed a little surprised by it.

“Dully noted… so, I can bring my pentagrams at work?”

His smile widened.

“Feel free to do so. I can produce the goat for the sacrificial ritual, if you need.”

You chuckled again, and Andrew bent his head, but you noticed the way his shoulders relaxed.

“Right, sorry for the weird humour,” he apologised anyway, and walked back to his desk. “Tell me if you need help with anything. I have a couple of things to take care of, but I can show you around if you need.”

“Okay, thank you! Yeah, that would be grand! And no need to apologise, I have a rather dark humour too.”

You exchanged a smile, before both of you would focus on your computers. You managed to log into almost everything, started to create documents and files for your research, downloaded a few articles that you needed to read this week.

It was almost noon when Andrew looked up from his screen again.

“Erm… is everything alright for you?” asked Andrew, his voice still as quiet.

“Yeah… erm… I just can’t log into something.”

Andrew stood up, bent to avoid the lamp again.

“Can I take a look?” he asked softly, and he walked around your desk when you nodded.

He helped you log into the software you needed, showed you a couple of things that you would need to use often.

“Would you like to get lunch?” he asked you with a timid smile.

You answered with a bright smile.

“Yeah, sure!”

“Did you bring some food?”

“Erm… no…”

“That’s fine, no worries,” he chuckled at your sudden hesitation. “We have a cafeteria in our building, for the staff. But it’s more suited for a coffee break than anything else. You can’t buy food there, except for a few snacks from a vending machine. There’s an electric kettle, a coffee machine… there’s a microwave and fridge too, if you… like… want to bring your own food. But nothing to make proper food. We can go to the cafeteria on the campus, though.”

“Okay, that would be nice! Are you waiting for anyone else for lunch?”

But Andrew shook his head.

“Most people in the department are gone to a conference in Cork for three days,” he explained.

“How come you didn’t go?”

But Andrew merely shrugged.

“I wasn’t invited to be a speaker, and to be honest, it was mostly about subjects I’m not particularly interested in. Besides, someone had to stay behind to keep the new lecturer company,” he smiled with a tinge of mischief, and you liked the sight.

He waited for you to gather your things, and you walked together out of the building. Andrew showed you around the campus a little bit, mainly the library and a couple of buildings where you could be asked to teach. You followed him to the cafeteria as well.

“Do you eat here often?” you asked, as you took a look at the food that was available that day.

“When I can. It’s not bad. But students come here too, so you should come only if you can avoid the worst of the crowd. As this year hasn’t started yet, we’re in the clear for a few more weeks.”

You ordered a sandwich, while Andrew bought a salad, and you walked together to one of the many empty tables.

“Lydia told me it was your first job as a professor?” asked Andrew, before sipping on a glass of water.

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve obviously been teaching and working in research for a while, but it’s my first year since I got that title,” you answered with a smile.

“Have you talked about your classes with Lydia yet?”

“No, not too much. I should be able to create a couple of lectures based on my research, but for the more… general stuff, nothing.”

Andrew nodded.

“Yeah, you might inherit some of the classes no one really wants to do, as you’re the newbie.”

“Did it happen that way for you?”

Andrew nodded again, but shrugged right after, swallowing a mouthful of salad.

“I mean, you’ll stay in something you’re used to, don’t worry. But a lot of people are holding the classes they enjoy teaching. You’ll have a limited choice in your field.”

“Any class that you’re hoping to drop?”

“One of them is bound to religion and religious references. I should be able to pass it to someone else this year. We’re exchanging. I’ll get a class on Yeats instead, which is much more in my area of expertise… and interests.”

“Not a religious guy, are you?”

He chuckled.

“Not really, no.”

He didn’t elaborate on the subject, and you didn’t want to push him, happy enough that your colleague and office-roommate was talking to you and acting with benevolence.

“Where did you teach before Trinity?” you asked instead, changing subject.

“Cork for a while, but my partner works in Dublin so I really wanted to move back on the west coast. And then I had the opportunity to come to Trinity last year, when I got the rank of assistant professor, so I didn’t really hesitate. What about you?”

“I taught for a while in Belfast, and they offered me a job when I became assistant professor. But I really wanted to teach at Trinity, so I applied and… got the job! My fiancé is working about halfway between Belfast and Dublin anyway, so it didn’t change much on his side.”

Andrew nodded.

“Relationships can be tricky with academic jobs, especially with how few the teaching positions can be.”

“Yeah, that’s for sure.”

You had gotten a yoghurt for dessert, and Andrew some dry fruits. He handed you the packet, a questioning rise of his eyebrow as a silent enquiry. You smiled, opened your hand and he poured some fruits in your palm.

“Anyway, I hope you’ll get interesting classes, and especially that you can teach about your research. Aside from being interesting for you, I think it’s important to develop what you’re working on in our field.”

You smiled, and he seemed to notice, giving you an awkward smile of his own in exchange.

“Thanks. I think so too.”

“But I have a more important question to tackle.”

You raised a questioning eyebrow, inviting him to go on.

“What poster are you going to put in that empty frame?”

You couldn’t refrain a laugh.

“I have no idea,” you admitted.

“Well, think about it. The decoration of our office is at stake, that’s serious business.”

“Of course, of course. Definitely my number one priority.”

“Good, it should be. My Qi is very sensitive to that kind of stuff.”

You both laughed, and you felt yourself relax again.

You had a good feeling about Andrew, about your shared office, about your new job, about this whole life that was ahead of you.

The world was smiling to you, even the weather was on your side. What could possibly go wrong?

You were so excited to go home and tell everything to your fiancé. Frank got home before you did, you lingered a little longer than anticipated because you asked Andrew questions about how the university worked, the power dynamic in the department, the people you should avoid and those who were nice to talk to. And you wanted to tell Frank about Andrew too. You were so relieved that the colleague sharing your office was nice, kind even.

When you stepped inside, Frank was watching TV. He had ordered some takeaway, and was eating in front of a stupid show that was on, more focused on his phone than on the tv anyway. He jumped when you entered, put his phone away in a hurry.

“Hey, babe!” you greeted him with a grin, bending to kiss him as he sat on the couch.

“Hi! I ordered food for tonight,” he said, nodding towards the Indian food that was scattered across the coffee table.

“Nice!”

“You’re home late.”

You grinned, nodding your head.

“It went amazing!” you jumped up and down excitedly. “First, a senior professor, Lydia, came to pick me up and showed me around. She seems very strict, but nice as well. Apparently, as long as you do your job well, she’ll be on your side. I went to the HR to sign some papers, and…”

You noticed that Frank wasn’t paying too much attention anymore, so you rushed your explanation.

“Anyway, I’ve met a few colleagues, and especially Andrew! We’re sharing an office. He’s been of great help throughout the day, and he’s very sweet! Which is surprising given that he is quite literally a giant!”

“You’re sharing your office?”

“Yes!”

“With a guy?”

“Yes. His name is Andrew! He’s been teaching at Trinity for a year.”

You noticed the way Frank refrained from making a comment, knowing you would call him out for being jealous. You refrained a sigh.

“He lives near Dublin with his partner too. He’s specialised in poetry.”

Frank seemed to relax, and you struggled not to be annoyed by his reaction.

“It’s grand that your first day went fine, babe,” Frank gave you an earnest smile.

“I’m just so relieved that the guy sharing an office with me is not some… misogynistic gobshite. I mean, I don’t know Andrew very much, but he seemed to be more on the feminist side of the spectrum, so I’m sure we’ll be able to get along.”

“That’s nice.”

He didn’t ask any further question but he was still looking at you. You sat down next to him, and he handed you some food he had ordered for you. It wasn’t your favourite, but you liked it.

He opened his arm for you to settle against his shoulder, and you happily obliged. You thought about all the details you wanted to say, but knew would bore him. You chose another question instead.

“What are you watching?”

[https-milo]

ILYILYILY YOUR MEGUMI INSTA POST WAS BEAUTIFUL I NOW NEEEEDDDDD A YUUJI ONE 🙏🙏🙏🙏

YUJI FANGIRLS RISE UP!!! indie I LUV YOU TOO!!

DATING YUJI ITADORI INSTAGRAM!

details!

instagram posts w/ comments while dating Yuji Itadori!

a/n OBVIOUSLY these are just pictures off of pinterest, reader can be however you imagine!

a/n Americanizing this one because my homecoming is next week and I think Yuji would be such a good hoco date

a/n Yuji plays football and track/cross country((idk the difference, sue me)) (GO WITH IT.)

a/n modern!no curses!AU

m. list

aoi.todo replied to your story: the friendzone is a terrible place for my brother. luvfromy/n: huh!?! No way! Yuji doesn't like me like that there's no way!! We're just super best friends! aoi.todo: oh I see. aoi.todo: Say, Y/n, whats your type? luvfromy/n: uhhh well... selfless, enthusiastic, and incredibly kind people. someone who's like the sun aoi.todo reacted "👍" to this message

yuujithetiger replied to your story: No need to thank me for hanging out with my favorite person :DD luvfromy/n: :D Being with you is my favorite part of my day yuujithetiger: same here!!

yuujithetiger · 9w

430 likes Liked by megumi.fushi, barabara, and luvfromy/n

yuujithetiger She was the first to run on the field after I got a PR!! :DD I luv my best friend!

luvfromy/n I luv you too!! I'm so proud and happy for you! yuujithetiger luvfromy/n THANK YOU!!! i think I did better because you were cheering for me... just saying! luvfromy/n yuujithetiger well I'm glad I could help then! :DD

barabara nice job loser

aoi.todo THATS MY BROTHER!! choso.kamo aoi.todo 🤨🤨🤨

luvfromy/n · 6w

1.2k likes Liked by yuujithetiger, barabara, choso.kamo, megumi.fushi, and togetalks

luvfromy/n two weeks before homecoming! Had to cheer yuji on at his practice <3

yuujithetiger i always perform better when you're in the stands luvfromy/n yuujithetiger guess I'll just have to keep coming 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ yuujithetiger luvfromy/n guess you do :/// (:DDDDDD)

barabara tell your man to put a shirt on 🤮🤮 luvfromy/n barabara HUH? MEAND YUJI ARENT DATING!?!?!??! barabara luvfromy/n oh! that's interesting...

okkatsuyuta its like hes a machine when you're cheering for him! please keep coming to our games and practices!! luvfromy/n okkatsuyuta wouldn't wanna be anywhere else! I'll always be cheering for Yuji!

luvfromy/n · 6w

1.4k likes Liked by yuujithetiger, megumi.fushi, aoi.todo, barabara, and choso.kamo

luvfromy/n I almost CRIED! I'VE LITERALLY WAITED FOR THIS FOR SO LONG!!!

yuujithetiger MY HEART WAS POUNDING SHOWING IT TO YOU. I'M SO GLAD YOU SAID YES luvfromy/n yuujithetiger WHY WOULDNT I???? yuujithetiger luvfromy/n I THOUGHT I WAS IN THE FRIENDZONE! luvfromy/n yuujithetiger I THOUGHT *I* WAS IN THE FRIENDZONE!!

megumi.fushi finally barabara megumi.fushi literally. choso.kamo barabara listening to him talk about her nonstop was giving me a headache 😭😭

aoi.todo THATS MY BROTHER.

yuujithetiger · 5w

510 likes Liked by megumi.fushi, barabara, choso.kamo, aoi.todo, and togetalks

yuujithetiger the most beautiful girl in the world <3

luvfromy/n the most handsome boy in the world <3 yuujithetiger luvfromy/n homecoming was so fun! It felt like a dream being with you luvfromy/n yuujithetiger NO REAL! I was so nervous the whole time!! but being with you made it better (as it always does) yuujithetiger luvfromy/n I'm glad I could make you feel not so nervous :D luvfromy/n yuujithetiger you really are the sun <3

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