#historic store conversion

[hometoursandotherstuff]

The former Harps Grocery Store, built in 1890, in the lovely town of Eureka Springs, Arkansas has been converted to a cute, unique home. 1bd., 1.5ba, $735K.

The front of the store is one huge open space with a massive book shelf wall. This room consists of double-sided sofa, probably for reading, and a sleep space in back. It has an industrial loft vibe. This room has potential.

This sleeping area has access to the bathroom.

This is nice.

Behind the large storefront is the living quarters. Isn't this cute?

Kitchen island creatively made from a vintage sideboard.

An adorable country kitchen is tucked into an alcove. I love it, but for $735K, I would really expect a dishwasher, and since I've been known to set off the smoke detectors, I would really need an exhaust hood over the stove.

There's room for a nice sized table, and in back is another sleep space.

There's another sink back here, probably for doing dishes b/c it's next to the table.

In the bedroom area are stairs to the 2nd fl.

I don't know why the description says 1 bedroom, b/c this is actually the 3rd one I've seen. I guess it's because they don't have closets. This one, however, has a door to the porch out front.

This must be the only one they count b/c it has a closet.

Lovely front porch on the 2nd floor.

I didn't expect this- there's a nice porch on the back of home, too. I would put up a little picket fence to make a small yard.

https://www.redfin.com/AR/Eureka-Springs/63-N-Main-St-72632/home/118404520

[ace-of-heartstrings]

I just realized that I was speaking in a fake southern accent yesterday at the candy store I was in.

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

snapdragons mean i'm sorry

summary: you own a flower shop down the street from Wade and Althea, and now Logan's apartment. You and Logan had grown quite close, until you hear him complaining about you through the door. A week later, he shows up at the shop, groveling wc: 2.0 k a/n: sorry about the delay with this one, things have been a bit crazy! I really enjoyed writing for worst!Logan, I think I'm considering a part two for this as well. This fic is based on this request! warnings: lots of hurt and comfort, reader uses she/her pronouns, confused and groveling Logan, Wade being a meddler, slight spoilers for the end of Deadpool and Wolverine

You were two seconds away from chucking the bouquet that you were working on clear across the room. Instead, you gently set the flowers down on your workbench and tightened your pony tail. Heaving a sigh, you snatched the broom out of it’s place leaning up against the doorway and made you way to the front of store. 

Usually, being surrounded by all of your flowers and specially curated knickknacks brought you a sense of peace. But so far today you’d broken two vases and stabbed your thumb on rose thorns maybe more than you’d ever done in your entire life. 

Being friends with a superhero (singular) was much less stressful than you’d thought it would be. Wade would stop in to the shop around once a week to buy flowers for Vanessa, always with a quick joke or two before being on his way. It wasn’t until he’d saved you from an attempted mugging a few years back that you’d really become close. And you’d been there for a lot. Through his break up with Vanessa, when he was nonstop moaning about how deeply he hated selling lightly used cars, and whenever he needed a second opinion about a new hair system he was perched on a second stool that now had permanent residence behind the counter, right next to yours. 

Being friends with superheroes (plural) was bringing a new host of issues. Namely, an accelerated heart rate and trouble forming your words in front of Wade’s new roommate. Wade had warned you that his new acquisition was prickly when he’d stopped over to invite you to the Welcome Home Pizza Party Palooza, according to the hand drawn invitation he’d proudly presented you. He’d lured you in with promises of meeting his new dog before dropping the bomb that there was an introduction to his roommate included in the package deal. You’d already agreed, and Wade was too busy rambling about how you were being moved up to from side character status for you to intercede with a made up reason you could no longer attend. 

You historically didn’t do well with meeting new people, and someone who was likely to snap at you at some point throughout the evening, by Wade’s estimations, was an even bigger hurdle. Even though you had worked yourself up enough to feel slightly sick to your stomach, you’d arrived at the party, armed with flowers for the new roommate and a mini bouquet of dog treats for Mary Puppins. Wade and Al’s apartment was full of familiar faces when you’d arrived. You were caught up in a conversation with Peter and Yukio for a few minutes before they’d asked about the flowers all but forgotten in your hands. You admitted they were a welcome home present, and Peter kindly pointed out where Logan was standing across the room. You’d thanked him, and made your way across the room. 

When you reached him in the kitchen, you stood quietly behind him, working up the courage to make your presence known. Ultimately, it was unnecessary, because he quickly turned around and greeted you with a crinkly-eyed smile that made your heart flutter against your better judgement. You’d shyly handed over the flowers, stuttering through the explanation of owning the shop down the street and apologizing preemptively if he didn’t like them, expecting a strong rebuttal. He certainly looked like the type of man to rebuff the offer of flowers in fear of appearing unmanly or some other nonsense. Instead, he took the flowers from you gently, thanking you. He turned away, searching through the cabinets before pulling out a novelty beer stein decorated with My Little Pony characters with a huff. Logan made quick work of depositing the bouquet in the beer stein, but he frowned at his work, clearly unhappy with the vase options. “So you’re the florist that he’s obsessed with.” 

You smiled to yourself, glad to hear that Wade wasn’t only kind to your face. “Are you kidding me?” Speak of the devil. Wade slung an arm around your shoulders, depositing your typical drink of choice in your hand. “More like worship the ground you walk on. I may be Marvel Jesus but I’m your disciple. The things she can do with a chrysanthemum.” He moaned in a way you had never heard someone while talking about a flower, of all things.

Logan shook his head, but before either of you could respond, Wade noticed Vanessa coming through the door and was at her side in an instant. You’d stood with him in the kitchen for a few moments, silent but comfortable. It wasn’t long before Althea had called everyone to the table, where you took your usual seat next to Althea and Vanessa. The evening had been comfortable and you couldn’t help but notice how naturally Logan and his daughter Laura fit into your strange little family. 

The next day, you’d stopped by their apartment armed with another bouquet, this one beautifully arranged in one of your favorite vases you kept in stock. You couldn’t shake the image of how disappointed Logan had looked with his options the previous night. Al had ushered you inside quickly, letting you know that the rest of the roommates had left her in the name of picking up some necessities for Logan. You’d dropped the vase on the kitchen counter, ruffled Mary Puppins’ hair and saw yourself out. 

Logan had come by to thank you at the store, startling you where you were working in the back. You’d fumbled one of your vases, sending it crashing to the ground. Logan was quick to usher you onto a stool, locating a broom and making quick work of the glass. You’d insisted you could take care of it, but he’d shot your down insisting that he would heal right up if he managed to cut himself and he didn’t feel like a trip to the ER. It should have stung, but there was a lightness to his voice and a twinkle in his eyes that instead had you fighting down the hear rising to your cheeks. 

After a few weeks, it was routine for you to stop by a couple nights a week after work, armed with a fresh set of flowers for the vase and some take out. Logan very well could have taken some home with him, as often as he was stopping by, but somehow you’d always get to talking and forget to bundle some up for him. He was immensely helpful around the shop, able to reach things on high shelves and move heavy pallets you would get in much more easily than you were able to. Wade’s stool had quickly become Logan’s but you didn’t much mind. 

Your hand had settled on the doorknob to their apartment, when two familiar voices faded in through the closed door. It was instinct to pause, you hand’t really meant to snoop. But the words hurt all the same. “I really am fond of her, but she could really stand to let up on how often she’s hanging around me.” Your heart started to hammer, frozen in the hallway. 

“I hear you peanut,” Wade was quick to respond. “Cling-ville USA, population her, amiright?” 

“Fuck off, you’ve been obsessed with her as long as I’ve known you.” Your heart sunk. Isn’t that what Logan had said, the first night you met? Wade was obsessed with you? As quietly as you could, you dropped your hand from the doorknob and backed away down the hall, hoping that their conversation was loud enough to drown out the sound of your retreating footsteps. You’d retreated down the hallway, quickly shooting Wade a text that you weren’t feeling well and wouldn’t be able to make it. 

You hadn’t seen them since. You knew it shouldn’t have mattered, but it stung. You’d moved their stool into the far back corner of the shop because as silly as it sounded, it made you sad to look at him. Thankfully, there had been a steady stream of customers to keep you busy for a while. But now, you were dead and your thoughts were drifting when the bell on the front door rang. You sent a silent thank you to the universe and rushed out to the front of the store. But the customer waiting for you was the only one you were reluctant to see. 

You hated to admit it, but the image of Logan standing in the middle of your showroom, shoulders slumped and one of the most regretful looks you’d ever seen on anyone was almost enough for you to forgive him on sight. Close but no cigar, one could say.   

“Hey, sweetheart” he said sheepishly, hands shoved into this pockets. 

If this is how he was going to play it, so be it. “Hey, Lo. Where’ve you been?”

“Laura needed some help at the mansion, and they roped us into a mission. Meant to call but,” he shrugged, scratching the back of his neck. “Got a bit busy.” You nodded, doing your best to remember that you were mad at him. Stopped by for some flowers, if you have a minute.”

You nodded curtly, shocked that he wasn’t bringing up the obvious tension. He wasn’t one to beat around the bush. “What kind are you looking for?” 

“Eh, whatever you think says ‘Sorry, I fucked up’ the best” he shrugged, making his way behind the counter. 

“Who else did you piss off?” You asked, arranging a few more pieces of greenery into the bouquet he had requested. Even if you were frustrated and moody, you couldn’t bring yourself to make something you weren’t proud of. 

“Where’s my seat sweetheart?” He asked, before taking a pause. “What do you mean who else?” He asked, cocking his head to the side. 

“What do you mean ‘where’s my seat’?” You mocked, doing a poor imitation of his gruff voice. 

“Okay, you’ve gotta catch me up here, sweetheart because I clearly missed something.” 

“Wouldn’t wanna cling on too hard, are you sure you want me to do that?” You snarked, dropping the bouquet on the table and storming over to him, poking your finger into his chest. “I heard the both of you complaining about me last week.” 

Logan’s hand wrapped around yours, drawing it closer to his chest. “I was coming in here to apologize for being gone for a week. But I’m happy to double the order to make up for the confusion. If my math is right, bub, you overheard me complaining about that fucking dog insisting on sleeping on my bed. Even after I told Wade to keep her out of my room.” 

“You love her.” 

“Yeah, you know me too well sweetheart.” 

You smiled up at him, soaking in the warmth of having him this close, when something clicks in your head. “Are you telling me that you waltzed in here and asked me to make my own apology flowers?” If you hadn’t already decided he was off the hook, the way his mouth turned down into a little pout would have sealed the deal. 

He hesitates for a few moments, eyes glancing around the shop seemingly in search of an answer. “Didn’t want to give the business to someone else.” He shrugged, bashfully.  

Against your better judgement, a few giggles slipped past your lips, which had been firmly pressed together. A few more, and then you were laughing so hard you were having trouble breathing. You leaned your head against his chest, taking measured deep breaths to curve the laughter “I can’t believe this,” you gasped, wiping a few tears away that had spilled onto your cheeks.  You grinned up at him through the tears, taking in the way his eyes warmed when he smiled. 

“Could have been worse,” he shrugged, mischief making his eyes sparkle. “Could have gone with Wade’s suggestion.”

“I have to know.” 

He slipped both his arms around you, pulling you in close. “Wanted me to jump out of a cake.” 

You snuggled in close, leaning your head on his chest. “I would like to see it.” 

“Then we’ll have to see what we can do about that.” 

[brattyspence]

virginia is for lovers | s.reid

summary: model!reader accidentally exposes their relationship through a soft launch instagram post

tags: model!reader x spencer, penelope included <3, smau

a/n: this is kinda short n pointless but i wanted a reason to write reader tweeting abt spencer and its been in my drafts for weeks so

word count: 1.1k

masterlist

Spencer had worked hard to keep you a secret. 

Not because he wasn’t thrilled to be in your life, because he really, really was. Historically, things had a tendency to go south as soon as word got out, especially when it came to his personal life. 

You had met in a bookstore. It was a short interaction; you were busy debating which translation of The Stranger was most appropriate to read. You must have been standing in the aisle of the bookstore a little too long, holding two copies side by side, when he had offered his two cents on the matter.

Typically, you weren’t one to entertain conversation in public. Nine times out of ten, you’d get one word in before the inevitable “Please can I take a picture? I love your blog so much!”, but this was different. You weren’t even sure he had even seen your face before he started talking to you. He wasn’t initially trying to hit on you, either. He was genuinely excited that someone was willing to listen to him ramble about the differences between the Ward and Guilbert translations, so when you responded in such a way that asked him to continue on, he was surprised. 

That day, you’d left the store with four more books than intended, and a single bookmark where he had written his phone number after you asked for it.  He had asked you for your name; a confirmation that he actually had no idea who you were. 

The rest was history. You saw him whenever possible, spent nights on the phone together, and flew across the country often just to see him. You loved having a relationship that didn’t need to be public, but you were also excited to share bits of it with the world.

It was late at night, and he was sitting at his desk in the bullpen, trying to finish the last of the paperwork he’d been assigned, when he heard commotion from Penelope’s office. He figured it was nothing new; probably just some news about the royal family or one of the real housewives again, but she’d thrown her door open in such a way that it garnered attention from everyone in the office.

“Spencer Reid,” She gripped her phone and rushed across the room with determination. “Do you have something you want to share with me?”

He looked up from his paperwork, furrowing his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“Why are you on my Instagram feed?” She placed her phone on his desk in front of him. 

“I’m not on instagram,” he replied. 

“Oh, but you are,” she said. “You are such a little liar. I can’t wait to tell Derek about this.”

She pushed his paperwork aside, plopping her phone down in front of him. It was a slideshow on instagram. A photo of the most recent bouquet he bought for you. A few from the museum you’d visited together, including several where his hands or shoes were visible, but nothing that really pointed to him. He could almost make the argument Penelope was mistaken, until the last photo, which included just enough of his apartment to confirm her questioning.

“You said you were seeing someone and I thought… someone from a chess tournament, or maybe… oh, I don't know. Literally anyone else? But you bagged a model?” 

“I-” he sighed. “How did you find her?”

“I didn’t find her, Spencer. I’ve followed her for years! I see her posts all the time. I can’t believe you.”

He scrolled down.

liked by @jjareau and others

@yourusername: virginia is for lovers :)                                              posted 12 hours ago

↪ @randomuser1: GIRL STOP TEASING WHO IS HE

↪ @randomuser3: i’ve been trying to figure it out since that tweet last month 😞

↪ @randomuser2: this is the sweetest soft launch i’ve ever seen <3

↪ 12k comments

He clicked onto your profile. 

@yourusername 

5.2M Followers

Followed by @jjareau, @emp.sergio and more

“You’ve got to see her Twitter, lover boy. She’s been gushing about you.”

“Oh, god,” he groans. So much for privacy. He lets her take the phone back, redirecting his attention to your Twitter page. She scrolls back to June before handing it over, letting him read in chronological order.

June 10

@yourusername: hot girl summer is officially over. just asked a man for HIS number.

June 25

@yourusername: is it offensive to men if you call them pretty? bc this man is rlly pretty 

@yourusername: update: apparently it is not :)

July 30:

@yourusername: good morning text + picture of a dog that he claims reminded him of me???? gonna ask for his hand in marriage

August 15

@yourusername: up til 2 bc hes explaining quantum mechanics to me 🧚🏻

@yourusername: embarrassed to say that form of dirty talk worked on me 

August 20

@yourusername: oh btw im a girlfriend now!

↪@yourfan1: look u long enough wtf girl

↪@yourusername: dw im locking him down 🫡

↪@yourfan2: thats OUR man now 💘

“Oh, wow.”

She takes the phone back. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Or me? Oh, this is great news. You’re bringing her to Rossi’s next, week, right?”

“I- Pen, I have no idea.” He laughs. He watches her type away on the device aggressively. “Are you texting everyone?”

“Yuh-huh. I need to call JJ, like… yesterday. And this isn't the end of this conversation!” She darted back into her office quickly, letting the door fall shut behind her.

He decided his remaining paperwork could wait. He packed his things up in a hurry, and decided to head out of the office, dialing your number on the way out. 

You picked up on the first ring. 

“Hey,” you started. “How was work? Are you heading out?”

“Yeah,” He started. He pushed through the glass doors of the office, staring towards the stairwell. “It was… busy. I just had a really interesting conversation with my coworker.”

“Mhm…” You had been lounging in your hotel room waiting for his call. “About..?”

“You, actually.” He replied. “She follows you on instagram. Apparently most of the office does. She showed me your post today.”

“Oh,” you replied. “Oh god, Spence. I’m sorry. I didn’t think… anyone would be able to tell who you were.”

He laughs. “Yeah, well… I work with some… characters. It’s totally fine, though.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, anxiously.

“Yeah. It was cute,” he replied, smiling to himself as he exited the building. “Tasteful.”

“That's what I wanted,” You reply.

“I thought Twitter was much more interesting, though.”

You froze, cringing. “Oh, god. Tell me you didn't read all of it.

He chuckles. “I skimmed it.”

You groan. 

[maniculum]

One of the things I’ve noticed working in a bookstore is that a surprising number of people are completely unfamiliar with the normal way books are organized.

(I mean, in the part of the store where we keep the used books, I frequently have to assure people that the books are organized at all, but that’s because we have way more books than we have shelf space and there’s no way to handle that without it looking a bit of a mess.)

On one hand, we get customers who are apparently a completely blank slate in this area. I frequently have to walk people through, like, “Okay, it’s organized by subject / genre, then by author. Oh, ‘by author’ means in alphabetical order by the name of the author. No, their last name.” (Most of the people I give this talk to are, I think, college kids ��� it’s a bit strange to me that you can reach that age without knowing how bookstores work, but then again, I can kind of see how these days it’s possible to mostly get your books online where you just use a search function.)

One customer responded to the above explanation with “oh, it’s the Dewey Decimal System!” and I had to be like… no. Similar in broad concept, yes, but the Dewey Decimal System is a very specific thing (involving… decimals) and it’s really only used in libraries, not bookstores, because it kind of requires you to label the spines of your books, which bookstores generally don’t like to do for obvious reasons.

On the other hand, we also get customers with pre-existing incorrect assumptions, which are so often similar that I think they’re being imported from other media (though I’m not sure what).

People seem to expect the organization of Fiction to be much more granular — e.g., “where’s historical fiction?” “oh, that’s just in with general fiction.” I think some of that comes from movies (people ask where the “rom-com” section is, and that’s definitely a movie thing), but I’m not sure that’s always the reason.

(Admittedly the fiction organization is a bit more granular in the Used Books area than it is in the New Books, but that’s because there are certain genres that we get tons of from people selling us their old books, but we don’t buy enough of on purpose to justify giving them their own section in New Books.)

At the same time, people have the opposite assumption about Non-Fiction — i.e., they expect there to be one singular section labeled “Non-Fiction”, which is not the case. I’ve had multiple conversations that go like:

Customer: Where can I find non-fiction books?

Me: You’ll have to be more specific.

Customer: You know, non-fiction.

Me: [gesturing at the signs hanging from the ceiling that say things like “science”, “philosophy”, “art”, “history”, etc.] All of these are non-fiction in their own special way.

I try to be nice about it, but I don’t think I always succeed, just because I’m so often legitimately surprised and confused when someone just doesn’t know How Do You Books. I’m getting used to it now, but I’ve been working there for almost five years, so there’s been quite a long adjustment period in between.

Anyway. Just some observations.

[hancyan]

World Downloads(Added information about rabbithole rug).

Hi everyone!　First of all, I must apologize. Regarding my previous post about "Victorian Sunset Valley", I deleted it because there was a problem with the save file. There is no problem with the empty world.

I'm really sorry to all the simmers who downloaded, liked, reblogged and commented.

It seems that the problem can be solved by separating the save files, so I decided to share it again. There are no changes to the empty world, so if you have it, please try again.

❖Empty World There are just a Public Lots, a Farm District, and Goth Manor.The two hilltop mansions don't exist yet. This is Sunset Valley long before Mortimer Goth was born.If there is a historic town you have in mind, you are free to build it here.

※An empty world requires the store item "Artemis Temple Frieze (Muse Luxury)".

❖Save files You can enjoy the Victorian era right away, but there are no film careers, universities, or diving spots. There are a few empty plots, so feel free to add them.

This time, I did not build any houses. I only built some public lots, but I changed the color of the buildings I shared before and placed them. The Equestrian Center of EA is very conspicuous, so I built a small racetrack. There is a fire station of EA next to it, but it does not blend in with the scenery very well, so I am thinking of rebuilding it someday.

The address of @ri-el's Sherlock Holmes residence is 221B Baker Street. I wanted to place this residence on the main street, so I set the lot size specifically. Then I placed the lot built by @nornities to match the cafe next door and the stairs leading to the harbor across the road. The harbor is a bit of a tourist area, with trade ships, sightseeing ships, and passenger ships arriving and departing. Some Sims may come to see the steamships, so I prioritized placing it here. There are also lots of great builds by other creators included. Thank you.

Every house has some sort of vehicle (either a horse-drawn carriage or a historic bicycle), and the sight of so many carriages going around town is truly impressive!

It looks heavy, but if you can play the EA Store worlds then I don't think it will be an issue.

Basically, it is a town for enjoying historical play such as the Victorian or Edwardian, but I think it can also be enjoyed in normal play.

The decoration is minimal, so feel free to edit it however you like and have fun.

Residential 38　Community 40　Empty ８

Please download the carriage from below.

@barnacleboots

Two-Horse Carriage conversion

The new carriage is here too.(I'll advertise it)

@danjaley

Schoolbus Default and Driveable Wagon

Car Default Replacements

❖World (It remains "Sunset Valley Empty" because it has not been renamed.)

❖Save files

❖CC (Please be sure to download the "patterns" in the folder via the launcher.)

❖Store Content (You probably already have many of these. Use only what you don't have.) ⚠ If the store items you own are not reflected, try this.

※Sorry. To ensure a reliable download, they are separated.

Required

Every hilltop amusement park needs a boardwalk rollercoaster.

All EPs except ITF

Requires Sunlit Tides, Monte Vista, Midnight Hollow, Aurora Skies,Dragon Valley, and Roaring Heights.

You need a rabbithole rug.(Bookstore, Theater, Spa, Diner，Business ,Chemistry)If you don't have the same one, replace it with what you have.

Thanks

Thank you for your kind words and advice, and for downloading and playing the town.@samkat10423

Long test play@ayaka-nonno

@nornities was kind enough to answer my beginner's questions.

And, even though you're busy, @yorithesims checked the final folder.

@blamseastore for converting and providing us with store content

CC Credit notation

Mutske, Around the Sims3, LunaSimsLulamai, mammut, armiel, Lisen801, LilyOfTheValley, MARTA'S SIMSBOOK, omedapixel, Cyclonesue, Awesims, Mspoodle, douglasveiga Thank you for the wonderful CC.

And especially a huge thanks to Sookielee at Custom Sims 3 for making the Sunset Valley CAW files available.

Anyway, some simmers, including @enjoji101, were concerned and encouraged me. And they asked me to share this town. I originally created this world for myself, but if there is even one simmer who is interested in this town and wants to play, I would be very honored and grateful. And I would like to make that wish come true. Thank you very much. I love you all.

※If you have any questions, please send me a message. (I would appreciate it if you could speak simple English. )

Have a smashing time! 

@pis3update @sssvitlanz @kpccfinds

[hidden-poet]

To have and to hold.

1/1 Disclaimer: I have not watched Billy the kid. This story is based on an internet search, and a can do mentality. No cannon events or characters.

Warnings: Dark!billy-the-kid, non-con, light stalking, technical kidnapping, spit, mature, 18+ only, porn-with-little-plot, non-fandom based writing, Reader POV, reader not described but can be picked up, definitely not historically actuate but you are reading about getting railed by billy-the-kid so you can fuck off if you have a problem with it. Dead dove, do not eat.

A/N: I am so sorry that this was late, and also rushed. The tent scene felt like I was pulling teeth out. I had no idea where I was going with it.

unedited.

You always knew Billy had a crush on you.

You would catch him staring at you from across the market. He would try to talk to you every chance he got. Always trying to find out more about you. He was awkward mostly, unfitting to his position of power. Despite his eager attempts to gain an audience with you, his eyes often floated around the room, and the conversation topics only always grazed the surface. 

Nevertheless when you excused yourself from him, he always seemed disappointed but never stopped you. 

You never minded the attention. You were flattered by it. Before him, none of the town's men paid you too much mind. Your family wasn’t rich, and your face was too plain to gain attention away from the wealthy girls.

It helped too that it was handsome. Dangerous. Big broad shoulders and striking eyes. He was good at his craft. Some say the best.

He was good enough to keep the vultures away from town. For a price. Him and his gang kept the town safe for a portion of everyone’s profits. It was a small profit compared to what he could have asked but added up quickly amongst the business that bloomed with his protection.

The regulators became the law after running out the corrupt and keeping out wild gangs that would come and pillage.

There were worse men to be left in charge. Overall his reputation was good but money was to be paid, or houses were to be burned down.

He had men to look after. They had to be fed and housed with a few extra dollars in their pockets to halt their boisterous nature.

From the few times he did use a heavy hand, it left a strong reminder to the community that Billy’s word was law.

Even with his sheriff- like position, he was still considered an outlaw. Wanted in multiple counties. Wanted in yours not too long ago. Before he and his crew became the new law. So you had to keep your distance as much as you could, and avoid situations where you could be seen alone with him. The town mostly thought of you as a poor target for Billy but a few whispers about you were already causing damage to your reputation.

 Anyone connected to the regulators was treated differently. People wanted to distance themselves from the group that controlled the area. Anyone found being too friendly with the Regulators were ostracized. Your family couldn't afford to be outcast. The family business relied on steady connections and loyal customers. 

So you don’t mind the flirtatious talk in private or burning stares so long as it never proceeds from that.

To help this, you avoided him where you could but some days it felt as if he knew your schedule better than you did. 

You tried to switch it up by going to town a day earlier than you usually would, but fate had it that it was the same day as Billy’s collection. 

People hush as Billy and two of his men come into the convenience store. Some leave while others push themselves to the back of the store. You try and hide your face behind a series of hanging baskets as you watch the group walk confidently in. 

Billy greets the shopkeeper respectfully but the men he is with are arrogant and begin playing with the objects on display. You knew them as Jim Greathouse, and Tom O’Folliard. Both long-standing members of the Regulators. 

“Good evening, Mr O’Conoly. How are you today?”

“Good, Billy. Thank you”. The shopkeeper places a pouch of money on top of the counter for the men to take. 

Billy takes it first and places the small pouch in his pocket, thanking the man, and asking about his family. 

You try to make your escape moving from behind the baskets towards the door. Your face heated with just the thought of talking to Billy in a room full of people. In passing or at a public event was unavoidable, your townspeople knew that, but talking so friendly in a shop. It would bring your family shame if it came across too familiar.

But you were too hasty in your exit, your feet too hard against the floor. The shuffling caught his attention. Worried that he might be offended with your behavior, you pretend to look at the pears on display as if contemplating. 

The sound of his feet against the floorboards matched the beating of your heart. 

You pretend to look busy as you inspect the pears but could feel his searing stare as he approached you.

“Miss y/n”’ he took off his hat as he spoke as a sign of respect.

You nodded your head towards him as a sign of respect back, “Mr Bonney”.

“Billy. You can call me Billy”.

You nod back with a tight smile, keeping your eyes focused on the produce in front of you. To encourage Billy by calling him by familiar terms may give him the wrong impression.

"You look awful pretty today"

"You say that every day, Mr Bonney".

“I mean it every day”. He stands close to you, leaning his frame over yours. With his height it could have been intimidating but you knew he meant no harm.

“Did you need help shopping today? I could carry your basket for you” His fingers reach out to your basket but you tug it back against you. 

“Thank you, Mr Bonney, but I will not be buying anything today. I must get home. I suddenly don’t feel well”. 

“Wait” He reaches out and gently captures your arm to stop you from turning. It was the first time he had ever touched you. It felt like you had been zapped with electricity. 

You pull quickly out of his grasp and look around the shop. People were staring at the scene. One wrong step and it could be the end of your family's good name. You step further back from him, solidifying that he was the same person to them as he was to you. 

Billy holds his hands flat out in surrender, telling you he had no further plans of touching you. 

“I was just wondering if you planned to be at Maria's wedding?”. 

Maria was a friend of yours, of course you would be at her wedding. You wondered why he was asking, he knew this too. 

She was often with you when he approached. More than that her soon-to-be husband was friendly with Billy, and borrowed from the Regulators to finance a farm. 

Because of that, would he now be invited to the wedding? Would you be stuck avoiding him the whole night?

“I do,” you respond. If you lied and he was invited it would be an uncomfortable evening, but has telling the truth now placed you in a difficult spot?

“I was wondering if you might fancy a dance or two with me?”

A sudden loud clanking noise stole the spotlight from you. Jim had knocked a table of grain and spilled it over the floor along with the serving cup. Tom bellowed at his friend's mistake, kneeling over from laughter. 

“I am sorry, sir” Billy said to the shopkeeper, “He will pay for that”. 

Tom laughs louder, earning a shove from Jim. 

“Clean it up” Billy demands with a click of his fingers. Jim snatched a nearby rag and kneeled upon the floor under Billy’s stare. You make a quick exist while he is distracted but he follows you across the floor. 

The shopkeepers goes to help clean up the mess by bringing a broom but he is insulated by Jim as he nears. He throws the dirty rag at the man and questions why he didn’t bring a broom sooner. 

Billy’s attention is once again caught. He looks at you as you pass through the door but Jim continues to hurl insults at the undeserving shopkeep. Billy turns direction away from you to deal with the situation. 

“Hey. He’s paid his dues. Leave him alone” was the last thing you heard as you raced down the steps and to the path back home. 

You bash your hand against your forehead as you take the dirt path back to your home. It felt good to release some of the tension you felt. You had kept your composure through your walk through the back of town but could feel it bubbling under the surface. 

You should have left as soon as he entered the store. Now you were left in difficult position and only the feeling of dread around your friends wedding. 

How would you be able to avoid him for the entire time? Your only hope is that he will avoid you while you are with your family. 

You swing your empty basket. The trip to town and back was a 40 minute walk across a hard pebble road. You’d have to make it again tomorrow. 

You wondered if you would see him again. Billy normally placed himself in town to correspond with your schedule. 

Would he ask for a dance again or had you wounded his pride? What is the right answer? 

Yes would leave the town talking for weeks. Might even affect your fathers business.

 No might make you an enemy of the Regulators.  Which is the last thing you wanted to be. 

Perhaps if you took more chores, your sister would take your trip to town. 

She was stubborn though. Would want more than her fair share to swap tasks. You begin your negotiations in your head. 

Preparing for when you get home, when the sound of galloping horse upon the gravel approaches you. You move from the path to let the horseman pass, but it slows next to you. 

You look up at the rider, just making out his face under the sun. 

“Mr Bonney. What are you doing?”. 

You eye the area to see no one else. A blessing and a curse. 

He swings off his horse next to you.  

“You said you felt ill. I thought it was best to see you home alright”.

“I’ll be fine. Thank you, Mr Bonney”.

“Please, I insist. Riding would be faster than walking”.

“How would that look, sir? Sharing a horse?”.

“You could sit, and I’ll walk him along,” he suggests. His hat covers his face in shadows. It made it hard to see how he was processing your words.

“No, thank you, sir. The walk would be good for me. You go on now”. 

“I’ll walk alongside you”. He readies the reins of his horse between his hand for a walking pace.

“There’s really no need” you try. 

“There’s also nothing stopping me” he returns. 

It puts you back on one foot. He had never spoken to you like that before. Conversations about the weather, and upcoming community events were the only things really talked about. Sometimes he would ask after your family, and your health. But he found that broader, more unfamiliar topics worked best to elicit a conversation. 

You once helped him pick out a ripe watermelon when he asked you but he had never refused to stop bothering you. 

He walked beside you with his shoulder almost touching yours. You try to create distance by walking on the edge of the road. The rocks slip off the edge of the road under your feet. It makes for an uncomfortable walk, in which your ankle twists from the uneven ground. 

“It looks like rain” he looks up to the sky and its dark forming clouds, “I sure hope it clears before the wedding”. 

You tense as he brings up the wedding. It was surely a ploy to reintroduce his offer. In an attempt to discourage him, you only offer him a nod. 

One wrong step and you tumble of balance towards the surrounding dirt. 

“Careful” he hand latches on to your arm, pulling you back on the path. He moves himself and his horse over to the center of the road, pulling you along with his hold, “Don’t want you breaking an ankle before our dance”. 

You paused to consider a broken ankle as your way of escaping the dance, but it would immobilise you and Billy was sure to sit by your side the entire night. 

“I don’t dance, Mr Bonney. Two left feet I am afraid”. 

“We’ll get along fine”

“I might not be well enough to attend anyway”. 

“Oh” he looks ahead at the road, “That would be a shame”.

The horse kicks, impatient with her pace. 

“Settle” he commanded with a pat to its nose. 

“She’s used to going fast,” he tells you. 

“Please, Mr Bonney. I would hate to upset your horse”. You gesture for him to go forward and leave you.

He laughs at you. A sweet, airy laugh. 

“She'll be fine”.

You knew he meant you no harm. Even as you walk with him miles from anyone you felt no fear. So you walk in a comfortable silence next to him, your feet falling into step with his own. 

“If you need a break, let me know,” he spoke. 

You wondered why he said such a thing, forgetting your own lie. Quick in your recoup you bring your hand to your forehead 

“I will be fine. Home is not too far off”. 

He offers you a drink from his water flask which you decline. He had reached for it although from his saddle and you still him with a hand on his shoulder. It freezes him.

In return his eyes freeze you as he peers back over his shoulder.

You’re not sure why but an apology falls from your lips. 

“No” he assures, “No-I”. 

Neither of you were sure where to go.

He puts the flask back, turning to you with empty hands. 

You didn't notice that you had stopped walking until his horse kicked impatiently.

“I have to get home” you state. 

You pick up speed and return to the silence as you walk alongside him. 

Out of nowhere and somewhat timidly he reaches a hand out and places it on your shoulder. 

You jump back at the unexpected contact. Half expecting the hand to claw and punch you down to the ground. But it releases. 

He squints his eyes at you, surprised at your reaction. 

“You don’t think I would hurt you. Do you?”

You weren’t sure. He’s never been aggressive towards you. But stories of him being a dangerous man made their way around the community. 

“No, Mr Bonney”. 

With home so close it urges you to pick up the pace. He keeps it easily. 

“Is that why you didn’t want me to walk you home? Because you thought I would hurt you? Y/N, I would never”.

His hand once again goes up to touch you but you knock it away. 

“Mr Bonney, may I remind you that you are a stranger to me. That I am an unmarried woman, and you are an unmarried man. If some one were to mistake this situation, it could cause great damage to my reputation. My family's reputation, and livelihood".

He looked hurt that you had spoken to him like that. He stopped his fast pace beside you, and you took the opportunity to continue on without him. 

“Well we ain't strangers” he says as he nestles up beside you again. 

The walk turned silent again and it remained that way as you passed through the wide field to your home. 

Your small family home comes into view, and thought perhaps you could shake him. But he doesn’t leave you as you open your gate. 

“Thank you for seeing me home, Mr Bonney”, You try.

“Anytime Miss Y/N. Maybe one day you could invite me around, and we could have tea”.

You slam the gate shut between you. By allowing him to walk you home, does he think that you were opening up to him? 

“I am not sure my father would approve”. 

Billy’s eyes fall to the ground. He doesn’t look up as he speaks. 

“I see”, he states, “Well, rest up and I’ll see you at the wedding”.

You hear the talking of your mother and sister as they bring the washing back up to the house. If they came too close, he would try to start a friendly conversation with them. The risk of your father seeing, and shooting is already high. You needn’t add to it. 

“Goodbye, Mr Bonney”, you bid. 

You leave him at the gate, scoping your mother and sister into your arms and back into the house. 

—

The day of the wedding came. The whole house woke up in excitement but you felt more heavy than you should have. 

You tried to strike a balance between dressing nice and dressing too nice that Billy would think you dressed up for him.

Luckily, Miara relied on you the whole day to complete last minute things. While the others were gathered in front of the church, you were in the field gathering flowers for her bouquet. After that you helped her dress and do her hair. It all kept you away from the guests right up to the wedding. 

You dash inside the small church to find your seat before the bride was ready to come in. 

You saw not only him but the entire group of the Regulators sitting at that back corner out of the way. They were all clean and dressed nicely to Billy’s request. Their hats were taken off their heads in respect, and not one of them spoke. 

Billy’s body shifted as he saw you. It straightened, slightly turning towards you as you walked up the aisle to your family. You could feel his eyes on you as you walked. You couldn’t help looking back at him. 

You took your seat next to your sister in time for the band to start the wedding march. Maria slowly walks down the aisle, you try to keep you focused on her during all of the service but his stare burns a hole in the back of your head. 

All too soon the ceremony was over. Maria and her new husband stop to greet Billy as they pass. Maria’s husband gets a firm handshake as Billy says something to him and Maria is brought in for a kiss on the cheek. 

They acted like old friends despite their true relationship as debtor and debtee. 

Once the newlyweds make it to the door signaling for the rest to follow, you form a barrier of your family to keep you away from Billy as you pass him. The Regulators go to move out before the rest of the guests but Billy blocks the path by putting his hand on the front pew. Manners were important to Billy but less so to his group.

Billy and the Regulators walked behind the guests to the reception held in the field of the newlyweds' new farmstead. The couple had hired a live band, and borrowed tables and chairs.  Candles and a large fire was lit as it darkened. People danced and laughed amongst the Regulators, but you found yourself trying to keep busy to avoid any conversation. 

If you remained for too long in one spot, you could feel Billy closing in. Only the request from your friend on her big day made you pause. She needed help dishing up the punch as the speeches would begin soon. 

All your efforts of the night were wasted as you distributed the drink into the many cups. You were a sitting duck, and you could see Billy closing in. You rush, half spilling the punch on the table. People distracted him as he made his way over. It gave you hope you could finish before he reached you. 

“Whoa, slow down” Maria jeered. 

“Sorry. Can you find someone else to do this? Mr Bonney is coming over and if I get trapped talking to him it will ruin my night”. 

Maria slaps your arm hard causing you to spill a whole cup of punch. 

“I won’t hear that talk about Billy. Not after what he did”. 

Your friend goes back to pouring but she has now peaked your interest. 

“What did he do?” you ask. 

Maria places her cup down and leans closer to you as if it was a secret. 

“Our wedding present was the farm. We own it. Debt free. He let us off”.

An expensive wedding present from a man who barely knows the couple. It was also a dangerous thing to do. How many people will now be expecting debt to be wiped free after every major life event. 

Billy made his way over. You don’t turn from Maria but she ecstatically greets him. 

“Can I lend a hand, Maria?”. He stands too close, your shoulder almost touching him. 

Maria declined his offer of help but he picks up the empty cups and holds them out for you to fill. 

You don’t speak to him as you work but he continues to swap the cups under you. 

“Let's start passing these out” Maria spoke to you, picking up a tray and disappearing into the party. You follow suit, picking up your tray without a word, but Billy takes it from you, placing it back on the table. 

“I was wondering if you were ready for the dance you promised me?”.

“There are many girls here, Mr Bonney, who are dying for a dance”. You hint at him. You look to your father who is watching you from his group of friends. 

“That may be so”. He is resolved to his position. Although you knew it was unintentional his hand went to his gun holster light resting on the leather belt. 

 It was best not to make a scene so you give him a curt nod and head towards the crowd of people dancing. A dance at a wedding is hardly anything scandalous. He follows close and when he feels like you are far enough into the dance floor he takes your wrist into his hand and spins you towards him. 

“Are you having a good time?’’ he asks as you move together to the festive music.

“Yes”. You wish you could have said more but your brain felt muddled with him so close. You could feel his strong shoulders as you rest your arm around his neck, and his strong fingers squeezed around yours.

“It didn’t rain” he comments. 

“No” you agree. 

“You look beautiful in that dress”

“Thank you. I borrowed it from my sister”.

A man calls out to Billy, taking the attention off you for the second that it took Billy to give an acknowledging nod. 

You spin out from his arms in sync with the other girls. It reached the part of the song where partners were swapped but Billy held tight to your hand and spun you back into him, leaving the next man looking for his new dance partner. 

Billy jerks his head in the direction of the girl who was supposed to take your place.

“Over there” he suggests. 

The dance continues and you resume your position as Billy’s dance partner. 

“That’s not how that dance goes” you scold. 

“Not going to let you go that easy”.

He spins you out and back in again, “You told me you were two left feet. You seem to be doing alright to me”, he says as he holds you close. 

You push yourself out of his hold and back  into dancing formation. Cozy in the arms of the judge, jury and executor is not a good look. 

“That may be because you are two right feet”.  

He laughs causing you to giggle with him but you were acutely aware of your fathers protective stare. 

“See we make the perfect pair” he boasts. 

His remark silences you. Too many flirtatious exchanges could leave the wrong impression. 

“How are you feeling?” Billy asks softly, “I ain’t spinning you too much, am I? Did you want to sit with me for a bit?” 

“No” better to get the dancing out of the way for the night, “no, I feel fine”. 

He doesn’t spin you again. Instead keeping you close in a gently swaying motion. You follow his lead around the floor. A few stared but most were too consumed with themselves to notice. Only your father paid true attention. 

“Maria told me that you forgave the debt on the land” you said after a moment of nothing but dancing. 

He nods back, a small smile on his lips as he looks out to the other dancers. He was pleased that you knew.

“I did. We want to see prosperity in this land. Farmers are important in that”.

Suddenly his jaw became hard, and his hold loosened. 

“Wouldn’t that be right, Harold?”. 

His change confused you. Instead of dancing with you, he had pushed your body behind his, gripping the fabric of your dress around your waist to keep you still, and had his gun pointed straight. 

You move as much as you could to see Harold Fern, the baker in your community. He looked disheveled as he held out a shotgun.  His hair was a mess, his clothes half done up and wrinkled His cheeks and nose burned red with intoxication. 

“You son of a bitch” slurred Harold, “You took everything from me”. 

“I don’t know what you mean, but you better get that gun out of my face before I put you down”.

You shrink yourself as small as you could against Billy back. His hold tightens as he feels you move. 

Harold scoffs, “You ain’t that quick”. 

“Yes, I am” he threatens. 

Harold sways as he thinks about Billy’s statement giving Billy the time to try and talk so sense into the man. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, Harold. Don’t make me. Whatever you think I have done, I am sure we can fix it”. 

“Your taxes put me out of business. My fathers business, my fathers’ fathers business. You and your gang come in demanding a share from the work you don’t do”. 

 ‘I am sorry, Harold, Truely. But your business would have been gone long ago if it weren’t for us. You think the Casa gang would have left anything if they were successful in their attack? We stopped them. What do you think would have been left of this town if we didn’t?”. 

With the man subdued, you move from where you pressed up against Billy’s back to move from the line of fire. But Billy’s hold on your dress would not loosen. You resumed your spot against his back, hoping that the bullet would not go straight through. 

“If it’s a loan you need I can give it to you, but I can also send you to the grave after your father if your finger itches towards that trigger anymore”.

“Billy!” you hear a voice of one of the regulators. The surrounding people gasp as another gun is brought out. 

“It’s alright. Harolds here just had too much to drink. Why don’t you take him back to his house and i’ll be by tomorrow to see if we can figure out a solution to his problem”. 

Harold must have chosen to drop the gun because you heard the shoving and shouting from Billy’s man and not the ricochet of a gun. 

The grip on your dress is released and Billy turns towards you placing his hands on your shoulders. 

“Are you okay?”. 

You shake him off, aware of the audience still staring at you. Billy follows your gaze around the crowd. 

“It’s alright everyone. Let’s get the music going again’’ 

Billy raises his hand to your arm once more but you are pushed away before it lands. Your father had come to your rescue quickly pushing you through the crowd. You look back at Billy. He doesn’t move. Just stares until you are out of sight. 

You don’t see Billy for the next week. His men did his collections. You only saw them around town, never him. You figure he was laying low after the wedding incident. 

Your days became dull again without the excitement of Billy. Your chores became chores again without the added threat of Billy laying in wait. 

Miss may be a strong word, but something felt off when he wasn’t around. You figure you had gotten so used to a state of anxiety that normalcy felt strange. 

He would return, you ensured yourself, just enjoy it while it lasts.  

On the tenth night of his absence from your life you think that maybe he had skipped town, and you would never see him again. The Regulators would need a new leader and you shudder thinking who it could be. 

You sleep with the thought of him on your mind. Who would protect the town if not him? Who would fill your days with excitement and wonder? You scold yourself for the latter thought. He was an outlaw. A villain. Blood soaked his hands.  He was a bad man. The leader of bad men. You sleep with hateful thoughts of the Regulators and their leader. 

You wake with the sound of your dog scratching at your door. Begging to be let out. The night was cold. Even with a large blanket and the windows shut, you shivered. 

You sigh as you get up, quickly looking for your robe. It would do little to keep the cold away but something was better than nothing. 

It was odd for your dog to wake to pee. It only happened when he was a pup and that was long ago. 

You follow him as he races down the steps, trying your best to be quiet so as not to wake your family. The dog is energetic, scratching at the main door. 

You ‘sh’ him as you open it. You’re greeted by a wave of freezing air.  

The dog ruined your plans of staying on the porch as he disappeared into the darkness forcing you to follow down. 

The cold grass sinks into your feet, the moisture soaking your soles. You could barely see your dog in the dark with his black fur. Only the sound of him peeing told you he was still there. 

You stretch as you wait, looking up at the night sky. Slowly rolling your head in a circle. In doing so, you could see a small flame in the distance. A candle still going just outside of your father's shed.

You go to blow it out before it catches anything on fire. Another odd occurrence. Your father rarely lit candles due to their cost. He was sure to blow it out before he finished. Still he is old like your dog. They are both slipping from their good habits and you would need to learn to be more gracious. 

You bend down and with one quick blow, the flame is gone. Rising once more, you decide it is time to return to bed and go to call your dog over. 

His name never gets off your lips. It’s sealed shut by a strong gloved hand pressed over your mouth, and the feeling of a cool barrel of a gun pressed into the side of your head. 

“Sh, sh, sh, be quiet”. 

Your gut dropped, you knew the smooth voice of Billy. With faith he wouldn’t hurt you, you try screaming into his hand. He shook you a bit but no harsh hand was used to silence you. 

“I said quiet”. 

You do. You once heard that he shot a man off his horse a mile away. Now with a gun pressed into your head you didn’t need too much persuading to do as he said. 

“We’re going on a little trip, you and I” he whispers in your ear. 

Where was your dog? You wondered. Why couldn’t he sense you were in danger and come save you. You were no match for Billy. 

“Okay?” he asks.  You nod in response. 

“Okay, move”. He keeps his hand across your mouth, and his gun buried in your back, using it to move you forward. 

It’s not too far before the sight of his horse is seen only thirty feet from your house. He releases you and halters his gun so he could cup his hands to help you onto the saddle. 

You look back at your house, not too far in the distance. If you ran could you make it? If you screamed could your family hear it?

“Come on, now. Don’t keep me waiting”. 

Deciding you couldn’t make it, you slot your foot into his hands, and he hoists you up to the saddle. He got up more easily, and with a swing of his leg he saddles up behind you, bringing the reins and his hands down upon your lap. 

“Where are we going?” You ask.

“It’s not far. Just some place I go to think”. 

The horse is ridden at a leisurely pace. The cold air attacks you, and you find yourself curling into Billy’s warmth. 

He doesn’t speak to you again but you could feel him trying his best to protect you from the cold wind. His body barricaded around you, trying to keep you warm. At one point when the wind blew especially hard, he planted his large warm hand over the side of your face and pressed the other side of your face into his chest.

With the amount of shock running through your body, you weren't sure if the ride was short like he promised. It felt like an entirety by his side. 

When you arrived at the camp, the fire was already going, and a tent was set up. 

He dismounts first and then reaches back up to help you down. 

“Why have you brought me here?”. You accept his help down, his horse wouldn’t go without him. 

“To talk. Some place where you can’t run away”.

His words should have carried more weight, but you knew they were said in a non-threatening manner. 

There was a log near the fire that you used as a seat while Billy remained across from you. 

“I’ve missed you these past few days. Been real lonely without you”. He kicks the dirt under his shoe and watches as it jumps from his force. 

“We were never friends, Billy”. 

Billy. The name seemed to have just fallen off your lips. 

The sound of his name gave him courage to look up at you.

“You’re right. You’re right. We skipped that stage”. 

His eyes go back down and he is silent once more. 

“Y/N, your daddy’s never going to approve of me”.

“No” you agree, “No, he’s not”. 

His eyes flick up back to yours, his stance hardens, his shoulders square and his eyes peer down at you.

“So. Where does that leave us?” he asks. 

A large gust of wind blows through the camp, straight through you. Your body hunches from the cold

“Are you cold?” he asks in a state of shock that he could ignore the obvious. He doesn’t wait for your response, gone into his tent before the question fully parted from his lips. 

He brings out a thick wool blanket, and wraps it around your shoulders before going back to his side of the fire.

He rubs his hand across the bottom of his face, his other hand positions on his hip. You wondered what he was thinking. Why he looked so worried when he was the one in the position of power? 

“Billy?” you asked softly. His eyes flicked from the ground up to you. “Billy, take me home”. 

“You know God told me that you were the woman for me’’.

“Did he?” you ask cautiously. 

“Years ago. I saw you in town, I said ‘God, if she’s the one make her drop her bracelet’. And you did”. 

He reaches into his vest pocket pulling out his pocket watch to show you the chain. He brought it over to you. In the light you could see that he had melted the gold of your bracelet to his small gold watch and fashioned it into his pocket watch that he carried daily. The ends of the bracelet were melded but the gold that was braided together looked identical to the bracelet you had lost.

 It was your bracelet. One you lost nearly three years ago. The clasp was broken, you shouldn’t have been wearing it but it was one of your favorites. 

“It’s just a coincidence. It doesn’t mean anything” you said. A broken bracelet was hardly uncommon for a woman who had little money to fix it. 

This seemed to anger him. His face scrunched up and his movement became rough and short. 

“Coincidence? Was it a coincidence tonight? I had a burning desire to see you and you just so happen to be outside waiting for me”.

“I wasn’t waiting for you”.

“Well something brought you outside to me. You don’t call that fate?”. 

“My dog”. Your eyes slowly weep as Billy the kid turns into Billy the outlaw. 

To run a group of outlaws. To kill men, and control a town, you knew he had to have a dark streak. No matter how well he hid it, there must be something lurking underneath to be able to exert the violence needed.

His hand flys to his forehead, rubbing it as if you were causing him a headache. 

“You ain't listening. Me and you. We’re connected. Meant to be”. 

“Okay” you agree. Unsure on what else to do. “Billy, I am really cold and would like to go home now”.

“Here” he comes closer to you, bending down and helping you to your feet. 

He picks up a lit lamp by the fire, and tries to lead you forward. 

“It’s warmer in the tent”.

Your heart jumps. Alone in a tent is the last place you want to be. 

Your arm jerks from his touch as you speak, “Take me home now”. 

His hands grip your arms too tight.

“Home? What if I gave you a new home? One where we could be together”.

The cold air no longer bothered you. Billy was the law. Whatever he did would be met with no consequences. 

“I’ve been thinking, if your daddy won’t approve no matter what. Maybe we shouldn’t ask him” he continued. 

You struggle against Billy. How quickly after all this time that his touch became hurtful.

“I need my father's blessing,” you state. 

“I was worried you would say that” he remarks. 

The force on your arms changed from holding you still to pushing you forward. 

“Billy get off” you shout. 

“You won’t listen to reason” he retaliates. 

The door of the tent wasn’t tied so you were easily pushed through the fabric. You fall onto the laid mattress with no strength to raise yourself while Billy does ties up the door to keep the cold air out.

“Billy” you cry. 

He lays down next to you, wrapping his arm around your back and up your neck. 

“Everything is fine. I’ll take care of you”.

“Billy, don’t do this,” you pleaded. 

“If I can’t make you see my love, I can make you feel it”. 

He rises to rid himself of his suspenders. You sit up on your legs in front of you, with no harsh hand pushing you back down.

You capture his head between your hands, only talking when there was no attempt to shake you off. 

“Billy, think about what this will mean for me”. 

His eyes feel cold as they graze upon you, “I am thinking about you. About us. He can’t deny the marriage if what is done is done”. 

Feeling his head push forward under your hold, you go to make one last plea before his lips meet yours. 

“Bil-”. His kiss is hard and possessive. 

His body soon follows, and the weight of him presses you to the floor. 

Shoving at his shoulders doesn’t do much to deter him. After a handful of hard kisses, he changes positions, straddling your waist so he could sit up and unbutton his shirt. 

His movements are quick and rugged like having to get rid of the clothes was an annoying chore. 

Despite his dangerous line of work, and the odds, his body is free from scars and bullet holes. His tone chest and strong shoulders flex as he moves to throw the shirt to the corner of the tent. 

You’re memorized by his beauty until his hands reach for his belt. Your hands spring up to stop him, only this does he resist. 

“It’s alright. It ain’t going to hurt” he places a hand on your chest to keep you down while he undid his holster’s belt buckle, “I told you I would never hurt you”.

With the leather belt free, he slides the gun in the holster up along the ground. 

The button of his pants only takes a twist of his wrist and he is left in his underwear on top of you. 

“Get off” you yell at him but he continues by dragging you up to where the pillows are laid. 

He positions one of the pillows directly under your head for your comfort as you kick, your head rises and falls into it. 

His hand loosening the front tie of your nightgown stills the fight you had. 

“Billy, wait” you request. 

“I have waited. Nearly three years”. The nightgown is pushed off from your shoulders, and pulled down the rest of your body. 

The shake of your body is attributed to many things, the cold air that swarmed you, the shame and fear of it all, the fact that it was your first time being bare to a man. Billy took it to mean the cold and adjusted the blankets so they were pressed up against the sides of your body. 

The hand on your chest left as you stopped moving and both hands were moved to unbutton your underpants. 

“I’ll take care of you. Don’t worry’’. 

He leans down to kiss you again as a distraction to get between your legs. He is there before you know it.

He brings his fingers up to his mouth, sucking on them. You wondered what he was doing before he brought them down to your sex. 

You try to tell him to stop but your brain couldn’t muster it. Only a gasp escapes your lips as you feel him enter you. 

Its uncomfortable at first and you squirm away from him

“Stay still. It’ll get better” he promises. 

In an attempt to aid the friction, he leans his head down, spitting into cunt.

The extra moisture does help your arousal. Soon you are wet enough for his fingers to sink into you. 

He takes them out, not wanting you to finish too early, and brings his fingers to his lips to suck off the moisture. 

His hand comes down next to your head as lifts himself up to take off his underwear. 

“Is it going to hurt?” you ask. There was no point in begging. You had reached the point of no return. 

“Maybe. For a little bit, but it will feel good too. I promise”. 

He lines himself up with you, and with a final kiss he plunges himself into you. 

It feels as if he hits a wall inside of you. You were certain it was as far as he could go but his hips hammered into you determined to break through. 

You were about to tell him that you had taken as much of him as you could take when he does break the wall. It was a searing pain as if he had cut you. You let out a tisk of pain, reaching up and clawing at the back of his neck with the hand that wasn’t intertwined with Billys’. 

‘Sorry. Sorry. I know” he says, but the rhythm of his hips remains the same. 

The pain subsided after a couple of thrusts that felt terribly uncomfortable and sore. It was replaced with the pleasure he promised you that built in your stomach, and tingles between your legs. 

Still, this was not how it was supposed to go. Not in a tent in the middle of the night. Not outside of marriage and not without your father permission.

You throw your head up from a particularly hard thrust, and notice his gun still in the holster just beyond your fingertips. Your head was too scattered to form any thoughts. Otherwise, you never would have reached for it. Even if Billy had been a stranger from the saloon, you could never kill a man. 

You had no intention of killing him. You had just wanted to touch it. The gun of Billy-the-kid. 

“What? What do you want my gun for?” As he leans up to reach for it and you feel his cock push up into your stomach. 

He brings it out of his holster with the barrel pointed at your head, but his finger is far from the trigger. 

“Don’t you know a man’s gun is part of him? You should ask a man before you touch it”.

The gun pushes further and down to your lips. Billy’s eyes were dark. The awkward boy that used to court you was buried in the furthest part of him.

“Open your mouth” he commands. 

With the taste of metal at your teeth, you do part your lips enough for the tip of the gun. A struggle could lead to an accidental misfire. 

His thrusts in time with the movement of the gun. His eyes focus on your lips, the way they curl around his barrel. 

The metallic taste overwhelmed your tongue and your nose. It felt as if you could still taste the smoke on it. You are slow in your movements so not to startle him as you pull your head back.  

His stomach flutters and he loses his composure as you do.  

“Fuck” he sputters, his eyes close and he picks up pace, “That was hot”. 

You shake your head, pushing the hand that held the gun away from you. 

He drops his wrist down from your face, and slides the gun back over to his holster in the corner. 

“It’s gone. It’s alright, it’s gone”. 

The hand is repurposed against the side of your face, and his rhythmic pace is returned. 

“I wouldn’t hurt you” he tells you once more. 

“You’re hurting me now” you groan. 

His face scrunches up, and his thrusts come to rest.

“No,” he says, offended. 

“No. That aint what I am doing”. 

His hands on the back of your shoulders lift you up against his chest, as he hoists your bodies together into an upright position. 

Your hands grip on top of his shoulders, and you rest your forehead against his collarbone from the pressure of him inside of you as you sit on his lap. 

“Look at me” he orders, but your position suited you just fine. 

You rock your head against his shoulder blade in response, which satisfied him. 

“The only way I would hurt you now is by leaving you. No man but those desperate or widowed would have you after I am done. Your family would never recover their name. Now I’ve made it clear that we are to get married, so no hurting is being done”. 

His fingers dig into your hips so hard that there was sure to be bruises littering the skin tomorrow. 

“Ain’t no sin for a husband and wife to become one”.

“We are not married,” you remind him. 

“What’s marriage but a commitment to God to have and to hold the other? I’ve made that commitment. You have too. I know you have. If it wasn’t for your daddy we’d be married a long time ago”.

“Billy” you groan. The lack of movement frustrated you. He had started an itch that now needed to be scratched. 

To ease your discomfort, he brought his hand down between your bodies and began to gently swirl his finger around your pearl. 

“I built you a house, you know. Told myself I couldn’t touch you until I drove the final nail in, and the day I do, you appear at the market a day earlier than you usually would. We’re connected. Every bad thing has led me here to you”.

Your nails dig into his flesh as the pressure builds in knots within your stomach. 

A frustrated sound makes its way from your throat when he suddenly stops, moving his hands around the back of your neck and around your waist so he could lay you down and finish. 

His pace is faster and harder. It cuts off his ability to talk any longer. Only groan and grunt. 

As you tighten around him and pulse as you come, it invites him to join you.

As soon as he is off you, you turn to your side away from him. What would happen now? Would Billy leave you here? Would he kick you out into the forest? You worried that he spoke of marriage out of lust that had now been fulfilled. 

He seemed content with your presence, as he reached out to gently scratch the back of your neck. 

You can hear animals outside the tent as they scurry around.  Billy regains his stamina beside you and the silence between you both stretches into the night. 

You focus on the sounds of the frogs and crickets as they perform in perfect harmony. The sounds and sex lull you to a tired state, but Billy wasn’t through with the night. 

With a small kiss to the back of your neck, he was pushing back on your shoulder to lay you flat again. 

“No” you protest, too tired for much more than a simple plea, “Not again”. 

It was late. Possibility early morning. Your body wanted nothing more than to shut down, now that the adrenaline has faded. 

“Yes. again. We gotta make sure we put a baby in you”, he states, positioning his body once again over yours. 

—--

You woke up alone in the tent. Two blankets were laid on top of you keeping off the cold, but the dull ache between your legs told you to get up and go back home. You found your clothes on the floor, noticing that Billy had taken all his.

The sight of Billy eating on a log relieves you as you exit the tent. You had no way of getting home without him. 

He gets up from his seat as he sees you push back the fabric of the tent. 

“Good morning” he greets, “How are you feeling?”

“I want to go home. Now”, you demand. 

He looked like a spoiled child getting told off by a parent. His head lowers, and he clasps his hands together in front of himself. 

“Yeah. We should be getting back” he agrees. 

His head rises again and he beckons your forward with his hand.

“You need to eat something before we do. I made porridge”. 

You take his place on the log in front of the fire and his jacket. Without a word, he takes his warm jacket off himself and helps you put it on. 

A bowl of warm porridge is placed in your hands, and then he leaves you be. Giving you space to process your emotions. 

He packs up the tent and gear while you sit, unable to eat what was given to you.

Even in all the time it took him to pack away the tent and all the camping equipment, you had yet to take a single bite.

You watch as Billy kicks dirt into the fire, smothering your warmth.  

The bowl is gently taken from your hands where Billy flicks the food away, and rinses it with his water bottle before packing it away.

You follow him to the horse and he helps you up on the saddle the same way as the night before. 

The swing of your leg as you try to hook it over the saddle is executing. 

You shout from the pain, feeling the mussels as they pull to extend your leg.

“Easy” he soothes, helping you back steady on your feet. 

You shove him off. It was his fault. Your body was in pain and your life was over because of him.

He stubbles back from the sudden shove but he comes back without reproach. 

“Here” he says. 

He swings up to the saddle, leaning his body down to pull you up. You sit across the horse’s saddle, legs together to ease the pain.

Billy rides slowly for you. The day was sunny but a chill still hung in the air. You wondered how Billy went on without his jacket. 

The ride took you through trees and along a stream of water. It was not far from your home but you had never been there.

With a twenty minute ride your home came into view. While distant you could see your family as they gathered on the porch. 

The galloping of the hoofs stopped their discussion with a loud relief. 

“She’s here!” your sister yelled back into the house, “She’s back”.

Your father runs outside to the porch watching with hard eyes as you and Billy ride. 

Billy halts his horse a meter away and slides you down the saddle onto the ground. He is quick to get off behind you, holding your reluctant hand in his. 

You saw your father disappear into the house as you crossed the distance. He wasn’t a fool. He knew what Billy had done. The shame must have been too overbearing for him. 

The rest of your family were all still in their robes as they stood on the path waiting for you to come near. Your mother held out her arms but Billy stopped ten feet away under the shade of the large oak tree. 

“Ma’am” he greets your mother, “I am sorry for the distress I have caused your family, but as you can see she was safe with me”. 

The stickiness between your thighs became apparent as he spoke the words. 

You tug your hand back but he keeps it in his tight hold. 

The front door is kicked open and your father appears holding out his shotgun. 

Billy is quick to act, pulling you back behind him but he doesn’t draw his gun. 

“You get off my land” your father demands. 

Billy nods, “I will. We just came to collect a couple of things”. 

Your breath hitched in your throat. Your father was not a very good shot. He was old and aim was crooked. Billy was a far better shot. He wouldn’t miss. 

“Ain’t no we, boy. You get your filthy hands off my daughter, and you get out of town, or I'll kill you”.

Your mother growls her husband's name as she moves the rest of her children to the side. Only your father was under the illusion that he could take Billy on and live. 

“Now I plan to do right by her” Billy states with authority, “I’ll marry her”.

“The hell you will” your father roared. 

“It doesn’t have to end like this. You could live. See your daughters married with children. Die of old age like God intended”. 

“Draw” your father commands. To kill an unarmed man was murder, but your father was worried about the courts and not the Regulators who were sure to come seeking vengeance. 

You latch onto Billy's arm to stop him drawing his gun, or at least delay his aim so your father could have a chance. 

“You won’t mind if I get your daughter out from under me, now?” Billy asks, “Your aim has been off since you first pointed the gun at me. You could hit her instead”. 

With the agreeance of your father, Billy brings you back from behind him with a tight hold on your arm. 

“Go to the tree” Billy nods in its direction but you could hear your father calling for you to come to him. 

As soon as he releases you, the direction you go is not to the tree but to your family. 

You arm is caught and shoved to the right,

 ‘I said the tree” Billy reiterates. 

You follow his command this time, hugging yourself to the large oak tree. 

Billy takes his gun but holds his hands outwards in a surrendered position. 

“Just let me show you something” The crowd follows Billy’s eyes over to the work yard,  “You see that paint tin over there?”

A small paint tin rested on the lank of wood that was going to become the new fence. If you weren’t looking for it you would hardly see it from the distance. 

“What about it?” your father asks. The gun is unstable in his hands. It slightly bopped as he pointed it.  He was scared, and you wished you could do something that would deescalate the situation. 

“Just watch”. Billy turns to the tins direction and aims his gun with a steady hold. 

The first bullet sprayed the white paint as it went flying in the air. The second bullet hit it before it landed, flinging it further away and higher from the force. The third bullet shot it down with a hole in the center.

“Now we can continue if you want, and I can take her away without a father, or we can be joined together by marriage. That means no taxes”. 

Your father contemplates his options. He wanted to kill Billy, you could see that plain on his face, but could he?. 

The answer was no. The gun was lowered and your mother let out a sigh of relief. 

Billy beckons you back over, taking your arm back in his grip once you get close enough. 

“Pack your things, and get changed” he commands, “If you think about holding up in there, I’ll bring Jesse back and we’ll burn the house down”. 

You nod spitefully. His eyes looked over you once before turning back to the house. 

“Go” he orders, letting you go. 

Your family is quick to squabble around you as you trek into the house. There were too many words flown at you.Too many hands touching you as you moved. 

Only your father stayed away, Slumping into a foyer chair with his gun still in his hand. 

You were determined to do your tasks quickly and lead Billy away. The ache between your legs was ignored as you fling open your wardrobe and shove what you can into your travel case. It filled quickly, you only had two more dresses in your wardrobe but you left them favoring to take your make-up and hair accessories. 

It hardly zips, and lands on the ground with a heavy thud. 

You weren’t sure how long it had taken you, but the less time keeping Billy waiting the better. You grab one of the last dresses you owed out of your wardrobe, side stepping people as they went to hold you. 

“Help me with my dress” you call on your sister. 

“You aren’t honestly leaving with him?” your mother took a seat on your bed as if you had punched her. 

Stepping into the green dress and waiting to be laced up, gave them the answer that they ignored. 

“Billy is the law,” you remind them. 

Your sister silently agreed by stepping forwarding and lacing you into your dress. You put Billy’s coat back on to show him you still had it, and take the time to hug and kiss them all. Billy was not the kind to keep you from your family but it would be the last time you would see them as their daughter and sister. 

Your father was still sitting in the chair as you came down. He doesn't move as you bend down and kiss his forehead. 

Billy was waiting outside, his gun resting on his thigh was holsted once more in his belt so he had hands to take your bag. 

He straps it to his horse in no time, turning to wait for you. 

You took one more look back at your family on the porch before you were ready. 

You raise your arms up to Billy on the horse and he pulls you up to the saddle once more. 

The ride to the Regulators camp was silent and quite a distance. Billy had taken his hat off as the sun went higher in the sky, and placed it upon your head. 

It felt strange to wear Billy’s coat and hat. Less than 24 hours ago he was little more than a stranger. Now he was your self-proclaimed fiance. You could very well be carrying his child. It all happened so fast. Your head spun trying to piece together the facts.

The noise of the Regulators as Billy’s horse approached did not help your scrambled mind. They whooped and hollered. 

You could hear Billy’s smile as he greeted them but his horse never slowed. Moving past the building where the men sat drinking, to the furthest field where a wooden house stood tall. 

Across from the house was a horse corral where they trained the horses. In between your house and the first house of one of the Regulators was the stable where the horses were housed. 

In addition to the tax, you assumed the men also traded horses to earn a wage. 

It was a decent size of land and well kept. The house in front of you looked strong. It was two stories of wooden panels, and a large porch was wrapped around the entire estate. If you were to take Billy at his word, it must have taken him a long time to complete such a house.

He stops the horse in front of the house, swinging off first to tie the reins to the railings of the porch. 

He assures you that he will take your things inside when he comes back out to tend to his horse, but he was eager for you to see your new home. 

With help down, Billy leads you into the house. It was furnished. Nothing decorative but tables and chairs. The entertaining lounge had a large fireplace, and the kitchen had a large stove and a large window above the sink that pointed out to a field of flowers. 

It grew a distaste in your mouth. He had designed this home with you in mind. He always knew this day was coming and expected you to swallow the news joyfully and quickly. 

‘And this” he opens a door just beside the living room to show a smaller version. A dark red armchair and matching leg rest faced a small fireplace. An arched window that Billy had built in a reading nook and decorated with mismatched pillows, provided light into the room. 

“This is your room for when you need your space. I won’t step foot into it”. He looks at you expecting you to be overjoyed but finds you glaring back at him. 

“Do you like it?” he asks. 

‘I have your cum dried between my legs, and you are asking me if I care about a room?” you bit. 

He closes the door quickly and takes you by the arm to lead you up stairs, 

“I’ll get you hot water for your bath”. 

Billy boils the water over the stove as you sit in the chair and wait. A hip bath was placed against the wall in the kitchen. You go and expect it. Your family was too poor for one. A basin did the job fine. But you always wanted one. 

He doesn’t let the water get too hot, only luke warm before joining you. 

“Do you mind if I stay?” he questions as he gently places the water and rag cloths on the floor by your foot.

You don’t look at him as you talk. Your fingers reach for the laces of your dress but they touch his as he unlaces the dress for you. 

“What does it matter? The sin has already been committed”.

Your dress falls to the floor around you. You’re quick to leave your undergarments alongside it so you could climb into the tub. 

“You need to know I won’t ever do that again”. He squats next to you in the tub, bringing the warm rags up to your skin. You take one and focus on scrubbing the seaman off your thighs while he focuses on your shoulders and neck. 

“I’ll take care of you. Respect you like a good husband should. I won-”. 

“Your words mean nothing to me” you cut him off. 

He shifts as you lean back into the tub.

‘I’ll prove it to you”, he resolves. 

—-

The wedding was small with only your family and the Regulators in attendance. The priest married you quickly and you were placed on Billy’s saddle once more. No big party predeceased it. Your family went home, and the Regulators went back to their camp where bottles were opened. 

You could hear the Regulators as they used your marriage as an excuse to play from the comfort of the house Billy built you. 

He remained with you despite the protests from his gang. 

He remained quiet as you figured out the swell of emotions inside you. Anger. Sadness. Confusion. A quiet relief lingered in the back only causing more distress.  

When he bought you the dinner he had made for you an emotion finally stuck. 

Acceptance. 

William. H Bonney was your husband now. 

He kept true to his words. Patiently waiting for your permission. You slept next to him every night, but besides a gentle kiss goodnight, he never touched you. His patience granted him two willfully-born sons. 

He was a good husband and father. 

You and your children were never left without. 

You watch him from the window as he shows the boys how to ride. They were too small for the lesson to be anything more than a pony ride but it gave you time to put dinner on the table without them under your feet. 

He winks at you when he catches you staring. Unconsciously your hand goes to your belly. 

‘A little girl would be nice’, you think.

[devildomwriter]

Obey Me As Tumblr #29

MC: I love bears they’re so fucking big and dumb

Leviathan: I thought you were a lesbian?

MC: I am talking about the animal!!!!!!!!!!!!

Satan: This is kind of the opposite of straight people forgetting gays exist

•

Beelzebub: *me inhaling pure Neon into my body by sucking it out of an ‘open’ sign at a store: Hhhhhhhhh

Satan: Wtf

Beelzebub: I felt I was pretty clear

•

Mammon: Guy about to invent mayonnaise: damn I wish this sandwich tasted bad :/

Solomon: Op’s never had pizza with mayonnaise

Mammon: OP’s never throttled someone to death with their bare hands either but unlike what you said, that can change any second

•

Asmodeus: When in doubt slap His ass

Simeon: His is capitalized….are you talking about god’s ass?

Mammon: Are you in doubt? Just slap His ass

•

Mammon: Not to sound like a dr*gon but I do want your gold and I am going to lay on top of it in a pile inside a cave

Diavolo: Why did you censor dragon?

Mammon: Townsfolk may find it scary

•

MC: Killed a spider n now I feel bad :/

Mammon: Give birth to a spider to make up for it

Mammon: Why did I say that?

MC: Why did you say that

•

Luke: Hey everyone it’s 5:30 pm

Solomon: It’s 8:24 where I am

Luke: I decide the rules

Mammon: Rules are more like guidelines, fool

•

Asmodeus: How sharp is your knife (flirting)

Solomon: Come find out (flirting intensifies)

•

Diavolo: When people start having long random conversations on my posts, my initial thought is “I’m glad these two are having a nice talk” but then I investigate further and almost 100% of the time they’re both horny and role playing historical figures

Diavolo: You all wish I was joking

•

Solomon: 2025 bullies be like “give me your lunch coins or I’ll unsub from your dad’s onlyfans”

Leviathan: Posts that can cause physic damage

•

Satan: I am sending pain vibes your way. You will feel a lil discomfort on your leg

Mammon: Ouch

Satan: Yeah

•

Luke: What happens when you become tumblr famous?

Leviathan: So much happens

Simeon: Like what?

Solomon: So much??? God did you even read the post

Leviathan: Get his ass

•

Simeon: The best fruits are hardest to open

Beelzebub: This fucking bowling ball is gonna be delicious I know it

•

Solomon: YMCA but instead of young man they say comrade and YMCA is USSR

MC: Comrade, steel production is down

Solomon: I said comrade, you must sleep on the ground

•

Diavolo: You think I have a choice? I have to be real

Mammon: This isolated message makes me feel like I’m about to be shot and killed

MC: This reminds me of grandma

Mammon: Hi! What does this mean?

•

Thirteen: God I wish there was a wasteland I could banish people to

Mammon: It’s the afterlife, sis

Thirteen: You’re right! I could simply murder and kill the people I don’t like! Why didn’t I think of this?

•

Mammon: Want a gf but I ain’t prepared… I’ve not land to give, no cattle…

Last • Next

[alltoomaples]

Speed of Science🧬💻💌

I'm dating a STEM girlie and you're not (F1 Edition)

a/n: and im baaaaaacccckkkkk (like anyone even missed me lmao) with the long overdue request! life of a postgrad StEm girlie here and the struggle is really realll af. but besides that, I'm writing this down as a headcanon for the drivers requested on this poll i had posted long back here. I've always wondered how there's soo minimal povs/ocs where they are a scientific researcher, analyst, etc. sooo i dedicate this one to all the STEM F1 girlies out theree <33

alsoo quick shoutout to my girlieee @smoooothoperator for inspiring and motivating me to get back at writing!🥹🫶🏼 check out her lastest ongoing work 'What Was I Made For? ' its amazing and thats a FACT!! do check her works! its absolutely amazing❤️

check out my works: until i found you masterlist | other works

Scientific Art Illustrator - Charles Leclerc

As a Scientific Art Illustrator, you specialize in creating visually captivating and scientifically accurate illustrations that depict complex biological, astronomical, or technological subjects.

Charles first discovered you through your works at an exhibition where their stunning illustrations of Formula 1 cars caught his eye. Impressed by their attention to detail and artistic talent, they struck up a conversation about their mutual love for precision and creativity.

During a peaceful weekend afternoon, Charles suggests a spontaneous visit to a local art supply store. Excitedly exploring aisles stocked with vibrant paints, fine brushes, and specialized papers, the two of you engage in discussions about artistic techniques and innovative tools. Amidst laughter and shared enthusiasm for creativity, you bond over your mutual appreciation for the intricacies of art and science, making the afternoon a cherished memory of their shared passions.

After being away from home during race season, Charles always finds a framed series of sketches by you for the races you couldn't make it, capturing his most memorable racing moments. Each sketch is intricately detailed, depicting not only the speed and intensity of the races but also the emotions and determination etched on Charles' face. Touched by the thoughtful gesture, Charles hangs the sketches in his study, a constant reminder of your support and admiration for his passion.

...

Data Scientist - Lando Norris

A Data Scientist specializes in analyzing large volumes of data using statistical methods and machine learning techniques to extract insights and make data-driven decisions.

You and Lando first connected through a mutual fascination with racing data at a technology symposium focused on sports analytics. Your presentation on advanced predictive modelling in motorsports caught Lando's attention for its innovative approach to enhancing race strategies.

During a cosy evening at home, Lando playfully challenges you to a friendly data analysis competition using real-time telemetry from previous races. Their banter and shared excitement over dissecting racing data create a lighthearted and memorable bonding experience.

You two would watch old races and analyze historical racing data together, playfully debating optimal pit stop strategies and analyzing driver performance trends, their shared passion for racing and data fostering a deep connection and mutual admiration.

...

Oceanographer/Marine Biologist - Oscar Piastri

An Oceanographer or Marine Biologist studies marine life, ecosystems, and ocean processes to understand and protect marine environments and resources.

You and Oscar crossed paths during a research expedition to study coral reefs in a remote location. Your expertise in marine biology and passion for conservation impressed Oscar, sparking their connection.

Amidst the hectic F1 season, Oscar surprises you with a weekend getaway to a coastal retreat, where they explore tide pools and participate in a beach cleanup together, reaffirming their commitment to environmental stewardship.

You gave Oscar a custom-made charm bracelet featuring miniature charms of marine animals they've discussed during their beach walks and conservation talks. Each charm represents a meaningful moment in their relationship, from their first discussion about oceanography to their shared admiration for marine life. Oscar wears the bracelet during race weekends as a reminder of you and all the love and support you give, both on and off the track.

...

Mechanical Engineer - Daniel Riccardo

You are a passionate Mechanical Engineer, specializing in advanced automotive design and performance optimization.

Daniel first encountered you at a technical conference organized by one of the team sponsors where you presented groundbreaking research on aerodynamic innovations that caught his attention.

Often, while you meticulously draft engineering schematics at their home office, he makes sure that you have your "engineering emergency kit" beside your workstation, which is a tray of snacks and their favourite coffee – ensuring they're fueled for their late-night brainstorming sessions. For when he's away for races, he stacks them up with small cute notes.

Before Daniel heads to a crucial race, you surprise him with a meticulously crafted miniature replica of his race car, complete with detailed decals and a personalized message of encouragement engraved on the base. Touched by the thoughtful gesture, Daniel proudly displays it in his motorhome, a reminder of the reader's unwavering support both on and off the track.

...

Statistician - George Russell

A Statistician specializes in collecting, analyzing, and interpreting numerical data to help organizations and individuals make informed decisions.

You and Russell first crossed paths during a university seminar on advanced statistical modeling in sports. Your insightful analysis of Formula 1 race data caught George's attention, sparking a lively discussion that led to mutual admiration for each other's analytical skills and shared passion for racing statistics.

During a particularly demanding race weekend, the reader surprises George with a meticulously prepared statistical analysis report highlighting his strengths and areas for improvement based on recent race data. This thoughtful gesture boosts George's confidence and motivation, showing the reader's support in his pursuit of excellence.

During a weekend getaway, you guys stumble upon a local go-kart track. George, always up for a challenge, suggests they have a friendly race. Knowing George's competitive spirit, you secretly calculate his optimal strategy and surprise him by winning with a perfectly executed last-minute overtaking maneuver. George is impressed by the your strategic thinking and playfulness, and they share a lighthearted and joyous moment celebrating their shared love for racing and friendly competition.

...

Astrophysicist - Logan Sargeant

An Astrophysicist studies the physical properties, behavior, and evolution of celestial objects such as stars, planets, galaxies, and the universe as a whole, using principles of physics and astronomy.

Logan and you first crossed paths during an expedition to study a rare astronomical event—a comet passing close to Earth. Both passionate about astrophysics, you found yourselves sharing a telescope at a remote observatory, marveling at the comet's beauty and discussing its celestial significance late into the night. Their shared awe and intellectual connection sparked a mutual admiration that grew into a deep bond over their shared passion for exploring the wonders of the cosmos.

During a quiet evening at home, Logan excitedly shows you a new telescope he acquired for stargazing during race weekends, expressing his eagerness to learn more about the cosmos together and sharing their enthusiasm for both racing and astrophysics in equal measure.

Before a critical race weekend, the reader surprises Logan with a personalized star chart that maps out the night sky above the upcoming race venue during the race weekend. Each star on the chart is marked with a heartfelt message of encouragement, reminding Logan of their unwavering support and belief in his abilities on and off the track. Touched by the thoughtful gesture, Logan treasures the star chart as a symbol of the reader's love and encouragement throughout his racing career.

...

Climate Scientist - Lance Stroll

A Climate Scientist studies climate patterns, environmental changes, and their impacts on Earth's ecosystems, using data analysis and modeling to understand and address global climate challenges.

Lance crossed paths with you at an eco-friendly racing event where Lance was advocating for sustainable practices in motorsport. Being a respected climate scientist, you caught Lance's attention with your insightful presentation on the environmental impact of racing and innovative solutions for reducing carbon footprints in the sport. Their shared passion for sustainability sparked an immediate connection and admiration for each other's dedication to making a positive impact on the environment.

One weekend, Lance surprises you with a homemade dinner featuring sustainably sourced ingredients, proudly showcasing his culinary skills while discussing ways to reduce your carbon footprint. His earnest commitment to sustainability and your shared vision for a healthier planet melts your heart, making this a cherished moment you both treasure.

You, being deeply involved in climate science, often spends late nights analyzing data or writing research papers. One evening, Lance bring him a cozy blanket and a mug of your favorite hot beverage, quietly sitting beside him as he works. You look up from your laptop, touched by his thoughtfulness, and pulls him into a warm embrace, grateful for his unwavering support and understanding of your demanding but vital work.

...

taglist: @lndonrris @thatgirlmj @lwstuff @dannyramirezwife-f1dump @moonypixel tysm for your suggestions! apologies on taking this long to write😅🫶🏼

a/n: hope y'all enjoyed reading this! this was my first time writing a headcanon and for f1 drivers beside charles and lando so hope i did justice to all.

i'm being wanting to read some good domestic bliss, sweet, adorable and lovey dovey blurbs, fics of lando (i talked abt it here) soo maybe i'll work on some drafts at some point cause i'm currently in the middle of project work of my masters degree soo don't know when i'll be posting soo until next time, see yaaa and going back to read mode 👋💓✨️

check out my works: until i found you masterlist | other works

[ckret2]

On chapter 30 of The Writer Uses Misleading Graphics To Trick You Into Looking At This Fic About Human Bill Being The Shack's Prisoner: Summerween part 2! Bill wheedles Mabel into helping him make a costume. Mabel wheedles Bill into spilling some of his preciously-guarded secret backstory. Ford is kind of in awe.

Also there's like 4.5 drawings in this chapter. They're all very silly drawings.

####

Bill wouldn't tell Mabel what his costume was—"I want to see who can guess it"—but all it needed was a brown bedsheet, a long red wig, cardboard (to be drawn upon), and flip-flop sandals.

The bedsheet was the easiest to acquire. Dipper's barely-worn brown sandals were just slightly too big for Bill but Mabel helped tie them on with yarn. the shack's cardboard supplies were still depleted from making Bill's triangle mask, but they could make do with paper and popsicle sticks. Mabel didn't have a red wig but she did have a blonde wig and red markers. Since Bill was, by his own reporting, terrible at drawing, Mabel offered to do the fancy artwork if Bill did the tedious task of recoloring the wig. He claimed he'd feel like a mortician putting makeup on a car wreck victim, but nevertheless accepted the deal, and they settled in around the living room table to get to work.

"So just a bunch of houses, right?" Mabel asked, starting on the first drawing.

"Ancient Greek-looking houses," Bill said. "So, marble and columns. Don't think too hard about the details—this is a 21st century American costume holiday, not a historical reenactment. You can slap columns on anything and call it 'Greek' and every human in town will buy it."

"Do ancient Greek houses have chimneys?"

"No," Bill said. "But adding one would be funny."

Mabel considered that, weighed up the value of historical accuracy against entertainment value, and decided giving one house a chimney would be funny. She gave the whole house a thick black outline in marker, and pulled out crayons in black, white, and whale blue to quickly add some light shading to the marble. 

Mabel didn't think she'd ever seen Bill focus so hard or so quietly on anything the way he did on coloring that old wig red. He was giving it more attention than he did his own hair: while his golden locks were a tangled, uncombed, soggy mass shoved dismissively over his shoulders, he was dying the cheap wig (and his fingertips) strand by plastic strand with the bright-eyed morbid fascination of a third grader studying a pack of ants as they disassembled a bird's corpse.

This was the longest she'd been around Bill without conversation—usually, you couldn't even walk into a room without him immediately chattering at you like the motion-activated animatronics at the Summerween store. It was hard to think around him. Bill didn't give you room to think.

What did Mabel think about Bill?

He was right, she was still mad about the mall. No—mad wasn't the right word—mad was his word—she was scared. She'd never really stopped being scared of him, if she was honest with herself. But everything he'd done that day, from tricking her into trapping herself to reminding her of almost dying, had just reinforced why she should fear him.

But. She thought he felt bad about it. And she didn't think she'd ever seen him feel bad about anything before.

Maybe that meant her experiment was working. Maybe he was changing. Yeah, he was still scary—but he was Bill Cipher, he had a lot of scariness to work through. He was moving in the right direction, and she wanted to encourage that.

He hadn't apologized for the mall; but, since he'd tried to make up for it at the time, and that was a sort of apologetic action, Mabel decided she could tentatively forgive him for that day—provided he continued to improve. Put him on forgiveness probation. And that meant they were on friendly speaking terms again.

Which was good, because the quiet was starting to get uncomfortable. She surveyed her art for something they could talk about.

After a couple of as-historically-accurate-as-she-could-imagine houses, Mabel had started varying up the designs by redesigning houses she could remember off the top of her head with columns and white marble. She'd made a stately marble Mystery Shack, and a columned-covered doppelgänger of the house with the terraced yard across the street at home, and then she'd decided to make a Greek-ish version of her own home. "Hey Bill. Have you ever seen my house?"

"In person? No. But it came up from time to time in you kids' dreams, so whether I've seen it depends on how accurate you think your dreams are," he said. "It has less plants and more windows in your brother's dreams than in yours."

Mildly disturbing answer, but not disturbing in the direction she'd expected. "What! You mean you haven't haunted our neighborhood or anything? I don't believe it."

"Do you think I spend all my time stalking random humans? Don't flatter yourself."

"Well, seeing it in dreams isn't good enough!" Mabel pulled over a blank paper. It was hours until trick-or-treaters showed up, they had a little time to waste. "I'll draw it!"

"Wow, really?" Bill looked up from his wig. "You're not worried about letting the big bad triangle see your house?"

"Come on! You already know where I live, right?"

Bill immediately rattled off, "1337 Fairview Drive, Piedmont, California, on the northeast side of the street where it's less hilly."

"Exactly—you creep. So who cares if you know what it looks like, too?"

A square, sky blue house with two stories and a triangular roof; a big living room window on the left, a covered door on the right, three windows on the second floor, and a chimney. Mabel had drawn her home plenty of times—but doing it for a friend (?) was different from doing it for a teacher or a librarian, and she put extra effort into the rose bushes under the living room window. She added her and Dipper's smiling faces in the upstairs windows and Waddles's face downstairs in the living room.

"Waddles sleeps in the kitchen, but he basically owns half the yard to wallow in. This is my room, and here's Dipper's—I get three windows, but Dipper has the biggest window and a bigger room, so it's fair, no matter what he says—"

"Oh, you two have separate rooms now?" Bill was leaning halfway around the table and craning his neck to see the image right side up.

"Uh, yeah? Since we were ten?"

Loftily, Bill said, "I don't know how you'd expect me to know that. You both still dream about sharing a room."

Mabel paused and tried to remember how often she dreamed about Dipper in his new room. Sometimes she woke and was still disoriented to find her bed in the middle of the room instead of against one wall with Dipper's on the other side. "Huh."

She added a few more details—the front steps, the gate, the shingles. (Bill watched nervously as she pulled out the gray crayon to color the driveway—but she didn't notice how it had been tampered with.) She talked about her home, and in turn Bill told her weird things, like that Dipper often dreamed of monsters coming out of the fridge. When she finished, she autographed her name with a star on the "i" in Pines, offered it over grandly, and said, "Here, you can keep this!"

Bill accepted it without the customary effusive gratitude with which one ought to accept a generously-gifted original artwork from a 13-year-old prodigy. "What am I gonna do with it?"

"That's your problem!"

"Fair enough!" He checked his leggings for pockets and, when he didn't find any, set the page on the table by his elbow. 

Offering accepted. As Bill resumed coloring his wig, Mabel picked up another piece of paper and got to work on the next columned house. "What does your house look like?"

Bill stopped dead, looked straight at her, and said, "My what?"

What was weird about the question? "Your house! Or whatever you lived in before you came here. You came from somewhere before you tried to invade Earth, right? You didn't just pop out of somebody's dream."

Bill laughed. "Yeah I did!"

"Bill."

"4500 years ago the construction workers of Egypt had a shared nightmare about the immense tombs they'd spent the last century building—"

"Biiiill."

"—and when they awoke they found the combined psychic energy of their terror had spawned a sleep paralysis demon more powerful than Ra! So then I ate their souls—"

"Seriously, Bill."

"I'm being so serious right now."

Mabel rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine! I get it. You're embarrassed." She shook her head and returned to coloring.

She felt the combined spiritual energy of hundreds of imaginary Egyptian construction workers beating down on her face from Bill's eye. Like a laser. "'Embarrassed'?"

"Because you don't have a house," Mabel said. "I think it's okay, you don't need to be embarrassed! I don't think you're a loser or anything. It's just kind of sad—"

Bill snatched up a blank piece of paper. "You want a house? Fine! I'll show you a house." He grabbed up an orange crayon, muttering, "It'll put your stupid overpriced shed in California to shame— Where's the ruler—?" Mabel tried not to grin.

For several minutes, he was perfectly silent. Mabel glanced over to see him coloring with three crayons at once, only for him to shove a hand in her face and snap, "No peeking."

Mabel got through two more drawings before Bill slapped down his paper over Mabel's. "There! How about that?!"

She looked at the drawing, which Bill had helpfully labeled "Party Central!" in red crayon. A great stone pyramid so dark brown it was nearly black, with bricks outlined in brilliant gold and molten orange and fiery red, and a sharp multicolored X hovering above it—

Mabel gave Bill a flat look. "This isn't your house, this is your Torture Temple."

"The what? Hey, is that really what people are calling it?! It's not the Torture Temple, it's the Fearamid!"

Despite herself, Mabel burst out laughing. "You named it the 'Fearamid'?!"

"It's a pyramid and humans fear it! It's genius. Portmanteaus make great names."

"What's a portmanteau."

"It's a word made from the unholy Frankensteinian fusion of two other words. Like getting 'electrocute' from 'electricity' and 'execute'!"

"Or 'romcom'?"

"Yeah, or that."

Mabel considered the drawing. "If you want to scare less people, you could call this your Bill-ding."

"HA! Oh, I'm saving that."

"Anyway, this isn't where you live," Mabel said. "You were there for like a week tops!"

"Yeah, before your great-uncle killed me. I'd still be living there if it weren't for you jerks." He stuck out his tongue.

"Come on, Bill. I showed you my house. Draw where you grew up or something!"

"What's wrong with the Fearamid?"

Mabel crossed her arms. "Why don't you want me to see your real house?" She raised her eyebrows at him.

Bill opened his mouth to protest, but then stopped, a thoughtful look on his face. "Eh, you know what? Why not. If you're gonna be so ridiculous about such a silly thing." He pulled over another piece of paper. "But if I don't have enough time to finish coloring this wig, you have to help me."

"Fiiine." She returned to her own drawings as Bill got back to work.

After a long silence—longer than he'd taken to draw and color the Fearamid—he said, "Okay, done. Here." And he pushed over the paper with one dismissive finger.

She eagerly accepted the drawing—and frowned. There was nothing on the page except for a straight flat black line, interrupted by three line segments of bright blue and a cluster of red and green dashes. "What is this?"

"Where I grew up," Bill said, innocently, already back to coloring the wig. Mabel could see his mischievous smirk. "As seen from the front. Just like your drawing of your house. So we're even now."

Mabel's brows furrowed as she stared at the page in confusion. "What...?"

"You do know I'm from the second dimension, right? A universe that's flat like a piece of paper. I figured Sixer would've told you all about it by now." Bill picked up the drawing and held it between his and Mabel's faces, so that, viewed from the edge, all Mabel could see of the paper was a thin flat line. "What do you think the second dimension looks like to somebody in the second dimension?"

Mabel took the paper back, looked at the underwhelming flat line representing the front of Bill's house, and said, "I hate you." 

"We had the prettiest roses in the park," Bill said, pointing at the red dashes. "Crayon really doesn't do them justice."

"Shut uppp."

Bill laughed at her; but then, to her surprise, he said, "Okay, all right, I guess a big fancy 3D creature like you can't understand the nuances of two-dimensional sight. So, here." He flipped over the page. "Top down view."

The back of the page had what looked like a floorplan. A narrow room on the left, a large L-shaped room, a tiny room nestled into the L's top right corner, and a medium room on the right. Little shapes filled the rooms—furniture of some kind?—but she didn't see anything immediately recognizable like a top-down bed or table and chairs. Green and red spirals dangled off the bottom of the floorplan.

"I'm no Edward Bishop Bishop, but it gets the idea across," Bill said.

She studied all the strange little figures in fascination, looking for anything familiar. She pointed at a few shallow bowls filled with blue sticking out of the wall between the L-shaped room and the tiny room. "Are these sinks?"

"Hey, you're pretty sharp. Sinks and the tub." 

"So the little room's the bathroom."

"Right again." Bill pointed out the rooms on the floor plan. "Master bed's on the right, kitchen and living room in the middle—and you found the bathroom—and second bed's on the left. That was my room! The one with a million books," he pointed at a wall with countless tiny multicolored lines coming off of it. "I was a big reader as a kid. I've always been an intellectual."

"Who was in the other bedroom?"

"I never really went in there, who cares." Bill made a dismissive gesture. "I think there were some desks and stuff in there too, but I didn't bother to draw them since I never used them." He picked up a yellow and a black crayon and added on to the drawing, dexterously turning the crayons in his hand to switch between colors without setting either one down. "I spent most of my time in my room." He'd drawn a little yellow triangle with an eye. He picked up a red crayon to point an arrow at the triangle and label it "Me!" "I didn't even have to leave the room to see the TV. The perks of psychic powers!"

Mabel wondered which of the weird shapes was the TV; but before she could come to a decision, she was distracted by the scale of Bill drawn in his room. Maybe he'd just drawn himself big, but he seemed cramped in that narrow space. And he'd hardly have room to turn around in the bathroom without his corner smacking something. "It looks pretty small. Is that normal on your home world?"

"Ah, I rarely spent time at home—it was just a place to sleep between speaking engagements," Bill said. "I was always on tour. Living the life of the rich and famous! Hotels, jet planes, and tour buses!"

Mabel shot him an irritated look. "You said this is where you grew up."

"This is where I grew up! I got an early start making my fortune. I was already famous by the time I was, uh..." he pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Developmentally, I think I would've been about equivalent to your age. Maybe a bit younger."

How much of all this was true? It didn't feel like a lie—and she couldn't see how he'd benefit from lying about any of it, except maybe claiming to be famous. So it probably had to be true. He'd actually made her a drawing of his house. Even after he'd complained about being so bad at art. She beamed at him. "Thanks, Bill. Your weird alien house is neat! I like the squiggly spiral flowers! Are they actually roses?"

"They were the flower that everyone mentions in poetry and that you have to bring home when your wife is mad, so, same basic function as roses," Bill said. "Fun fact, they grow in spirals so that they're pretty on the outside, but—"

####

"—but have more surface area to absorb sunlight on the inside," Mabel said, pointing at the flowers. "Alien biology! And the orange things are couches and the colorful box in front of them is his TV, and Bill says he could watch TV through the wall but he never really liked TV, he preferred live performances—maybe we should take him to a musical! And the little sideways cushions on the walls are their beds because gravity goes to the left because their house faces east—I have no idea why!—so, I guess that's their 'floor'? But if that's the 'floor,' Bill didn't explain why all his books were on the 'ceiling' without them falling off, and..." Mabel trailed off, giving Ford a concerned look. "Grunkle Ford? Are you okay?"

He was gaping at the drawing. "Wh—? Yes. Sorry. I'm just..." He shook his head in amazement. "I never even got that slippery eel to admit he has a calendar system, and you got the blueprints to his childhood home?"

Dipper said, "Yeah, this is amazing. How did you get this out of him?"

"Oh, I didn't do anything special," Mabel said casually. "Just drew our house and then suggested he was too scared to let me see his."

Dipper grimaced. "You showed him our house?"

"Don't worry about it! He already knows where we live."

"Of course," Ford said, taking a quick note in his journal. "Exploiting his ego. He's very proud; undermine that pride and he'll feel compelled to defend his honor." Ford had started goading Bill into giving away more than he meant to the same way. He wished he'd started doing it far earlier; but he'd spent so many years foolishly assuming Bill's pride was objective and justified that he sometimes forgot what an egomaniac Bill really was.

As Mabel had spoken, Ford had filled several pages with bullet-pointed half thoughts: dodges questions about the master bed—his parents' room?; no bed or bedroom for a sibling, he seems like an only child; "speaking engagements" is probably a euphemism, what was he doing to become a child celebrity; were his books his only childhood possessions or just the only thing he valued enough to draw; did he gain his "psychic powers" while amassing the power he needed to "liberate"/destroy his dimension? "Can I borrow this drawing to make a photocopy?"

"Sure! Don't forget the line on the back," Mabel said. "And you can copy the Fearamid, too! Did you know he named it the 'Fearamid'?"

"Oh yeah, I heard him call it that," Dipper said. "I think I recorded it in Journal 3?"

"I should've read that before we threw out all of Grunkle Ford's Bill stuff," Mabel sighed. She slid over the Fearamid drawing to Ford. "Bwop! He drew it tilting all weird to the left? He wasn't kidding when he said he's bad at drawing."

Ford studied the drawing and frowned. He lay his pen on the drawing to use like a makeshift ruler. "It's not 'skewed'—he drew the front face as a perfect equilateral triangle, and then extended a side on the right to turn it into a pyramid. It's poor perspective—there's no point of view from which one side would look like a perfect equilateral triangle and you could see another side, but..." He trailed off again as he made a note to himself about what this might mean about Bill's ability to perceive the third dimension and his artistic sensibilities.

"So he draws like Picasso!" Mabel concluded. "Oh! Bill mentioned a name when he gave me his house, he said he wasn't like Edward Bishop Bishop—and I remembered it because it sounds funny. Bishop-Bishop. Maybe he's another artist Bill likes? Or somebody who makes blueprints?"

"I'm sure I've heard that name. I think he was a mathematician?" Ford frowned. "I can't recall, though." He wrote down another note: Edward Bishop Bishop – mathematician/artist? Something to look up later.

Dipper glanced back and forth between Ford and Mabel as they talked, feeling his stomach sink at how excited they were and how easily they got along. First the mysterious disappearing crystal shop in Portland, now Mabel made this huge discovery about the guy Ford had spent years trying to learn about... Dipper swallowed hard and tried to tell himself he shouldn't feel jealous after he'd gotten Ford to himself for basically the past year. "I can't believe you found out all this."

Mabel immediately looked at him. "Hey, what's that supposed to mean?"

Dipper winced. He'd realized a moment too late how he must have sounded. Quickly, he said, "I mean, it's great that you did! Finding out more information about him is great. But, like... investigating the paranormal is my thing. It's what I spent all last summer doing, and it's my dream job, and... and now, the biggest paranormal mystery in human history is in our house, and you're the one getting all the info out of him?"

"Well, yeah," Mabel said. "I'm our official Bill spy, remember? I'm the one who made friends with him."

"I know, I know." He shrugged jerkily. "I'm just... kind of disappointed that I'm not prying eons-old secrets out of an alien demon. You know?"

Ford had paused in his writing to listen to Dipper thoughtfully. "I understand. When you're exceptional at something, it can be... difficult to share the limelight," he said. "Not because you don't think anyone else deserves it. You just don't know if you'll ever get it back."

Dipper's face heated up—he didn't want Ford to think he was bad at sharing, of all things—but he mumbled, "Yeah, I guess." Ford patted his shoulder understandingly. 

"Aww," Mabel said. "Didn't you say that if we're running an experiment on being nice to Bill, you want to be in the control group?" She punched his arm. "Welcome to the control, bro!"

"Ow!" Dipper rubbed his arm and laughed weakly. "Yeah, okay, you're right. This is what I get."

Mabel said, "You should try talking to Bill! Maybe he'll tell you stuff too. He's really easy to talk to as long as you don't mind him sometimes saying creepy nightmare things."

"And as long as you're prepared for his mental tricks," Ford said.

"Yeah! Grunkle Ford's got a whole class for that," Mabel said. "He'll teach you about the BITE model! It's how cults sink their teeth into you!"

Dipper chuckled. "Sure. Maybe I will. We're gonna be at home handing out candy for a few hours, maybe I'll find an opportunity to interrogate him."

"You're not going trick-or-treating?" Ford asked.

"No," Mabel said, with an exaggerated sigh of disappointment.

Dipper elbowed her for her theatrics; they'd already agreed on what they'd do tonight. "We've got plans with friends. But we do get to wear matching costumes again."

"Creepy ghost children!"

"Ah," Ford said. "That explains your..." He gestured at them. They were wearing a suit and a dress, old-fashioned and gray, with tattered hems and dusty black dress shoes.

"Barty helped us put the outfits together," Dipper said.

"We still need to do our makeup," Mabel said. "What about you, Grunkle Ford? What are you doing for Summerween?"

"Ah." He glanced toward the ceiling ruefully, as though he could see The Enemy in the shack through the many layers of dirt above. Summerween had been one of the things he'd missed most about Gravity Falls; even during his years as a reclusive scientist in the woods, he'd usually taken off Summerween and Halloween to hand out candy to the children bold enough to visit his house.

But Bill's eagerness to participate had sucked the fun out of the day. The thought of celebrating Summerween in the same house as Bill felt too much like celebrating with him. "Nothing, I suppose. I was planning to stay down here." He gestured at his desk. "Continue my research."

"What are you working on right now?" Dipper asked.

Ford quickly said, "Nothing. Just—the same research," and was immediately hit with a pang of guilt. Remember what happened last summer when you tried to keep secrets about Bill out of embarrassment? Reluctantly, he said, "I've... split some research duties with Fiddleford. While I'm waiting to hear back from him, I'm looking into—some magical knowledge Bill revealed. To determine how much of it's true."

Dipper looked puzzled. "Revealed when?"

Mabel slammed her hands on Ford's desk. "Grunkle Ford, you can take a break from gathering intel on the enemy for one day! It's Summerween! Promise me you'll do something to celebrate before the day's over."

Ford let out a huff, but smiled. He wanted to do something. Surely he could come up with something that would let him avoid Bill? "All right, I promise. I won't invoke the Trickster's wrath tonight. Could you leave your costume makeup in the bathroom when you're finished? I'll find something to do with it."

"Perfect!" Mabel hugged him; then grabbed Dipper's hand. "C'mon, let's finish getting dressed. The trick-or-treaters will be here any minute!"

"Okay, okay." Dipper waved at Ford as Mabel dragged him to the elevator.

When they were gone, Ford turned back to the papers Mabel had given him. Bill's childhood home... Assuming he wasn't lying, at least. But an entire blueprint seemed like a complicated spur-of-the-moment fabrication even for him. If Bill was lying, it was a lie close to the truth.

It was strange to imagine Bill as a child with a bedroom full of books. Strange to imagine Bill as a child at all. What did a young triangle look like? He couldn't imagine anything different from how Bill always looked.

The floorplan did look small. Smaller even than the apartment over the pawn shop had been. Ford tried to remember what the homes he'd seen in Exwhylia had looked like...

He raised his head as something the kids had said registered. "Barty? Who's Barty?"

####

While Mabel was downstairs, Bill inspected her box of crayons.

The wrapper around the gray crayon was coming loose.

He took the glue stick they'd been using to reinforce the paper houses with popsicle sticks and carefully stuck the wrapper back on.

The house was too quiet without anyone around to talk to. He hated the quiet.

From the corner of the living room behind the table, when Bill leaned on the wall, shut his eyes, and listened closely, he could faintly hear the hidden elevator. He headed upstairs to stow the drawing of Mabel's house somewhere safe, and then went to the downstairs bathroom to finish dressing for Summerween.

####

(Y'all I worked hard on those fake crayon drawings. Anyway I know we're all collectively going insane today over the book news but if you took time out of your day to read this, I'd love to hear what y'all think!)

[marzipanandminutiae]

Notable reactions I've gotten as a museum docent who wears full-on Victorian clothing every day, but not as a work thing; that's just how I dress

(museums in my area being pretty lenient on aesthetics as long as you're decent for public activities)

"Are you in period attire?" This is probably the most common; I always wonder what they think about seeing one (1) staff member in historical clothing and Literally Nobody Else, but I get the assumption. normally I say "not for work; this is just my clothing" and steer the conversation back towards the history at hand

"Reeeeeally?" [disbelieving and slightly smug look]

"So like, at the grocery store?" "Yep!" [two full rooms of guided tour pass] "Wait, like, running errands, too?" "Yes." [remainder of the tour passes] "Oh come on, that has to be a costume! Let me take your picture!"

"So what do you normally? Like what's your normal job?" This one confused me- even the actually costumed Freedom Trail tour guides are paid professionals. I don't know if he assumed everyone Dressed Funny was a volunteer or what

[a man has his camera pointed in my direction while I'm talking. thinking he's trying to photograph the object next to me, I move aside to give him a clearer shot] [he follows me with his camera, takes my picture, and I see it on social media the next day. the object is not in it; it's just me. no permission was asked- he doesn't legally have to, but come on, man]

"Yo, I love you guys' tours!" This was shouted to me on the street while I wandered over to get Tatte on my break, so not technically at work. I WAS a bit surprised still- none of the costumed tour guides around do Victorian that I've seen, and it just looks so monumentally different from 18th century that I struggle to see how they could get mixed up. but that's just me being like those XKCD scientists, I guess

[hannie-dul-set]

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE [3].

SYNOPSIS. the saying “never meet your idols” exists for a reason. you just didn’t expect the reason to be because said idols would end up declaring that you’re their alleged lover from a past life (past lives, rather). now you have three big celebrities vying for your attention, and it’s not as dreamlike as you imagined it to be.

PAIRINGS. choi yeonjun, choi soobin, choi beomgyu x female! reader. GENRES. reincarnation! au, celebrity! au (soloist! yeonjun, actor! soobin, rock band member! beomgyu), slight college! au, slight historical! au, rom-com, angst, reverse harem woohoo. WARNINGS. swearing, talks about stalking, talks about death, data privacy violations, so much emotional whiplash yummy, a very long conversation, google dependent historical information. WORD COUNT. 6.3k.

NOTE. this chapter finally made its way out hell 😭😭😭 per usual, please let me know your thoughts on the chapter! a single comment on ao3 inspired me to finish this, so ur feedback really means a lot! enjoy<3

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 3 — can we go back to being parasocial?

IF SOMEONE HEARS YOUR SUMMARY OF THE EVENTS THAT UNFOLDED WITHIN THE PAST FEW DAYS, they may accuse you of lying. Delusional, even. You’d think the same had you not been the center of it all— yet the proof is in your pockets. Your phone. In the album Choi Yeonjun failed to sign, stuffed inside your bag at the last minute before you left your apartment earlier.

The summary. Right. Yes.

“Can they stop sharing that video of Yeonjun excessively flirting with a fan?! I’m going to kill myself if I see it one more time.”

You were lucky enough to nab a fansign slot. But instead of getting Choi Yeonjun’s signature, you ended up getting a kiss of a hand instead, along with a scrawl of numbers on your album that you’re far too terrified to try to dial.

“Hey, send me our photo with Soobin the other day,” nudges Huening from beside you. “I’m gonna print it out and put it in a locket and use it as a family heirloom.”

You bumped into one of your favorite actors, Choi Soobin, in the middle of a late night convenience store run with your friends to fuel your group all nighter, stained his shirt with your ice cream, and got a photo with him in the process.

“By the way, have you called the business card yet? What are you gonna do with your broken phone screen?”

And Choi Beomgyu may or may not have professed his undying love for you, asked for your hand in marriage, and started crying in front of you in less than ten fucking minutes.

“She’s zoned out.”

The problem is, you can’t even bask in the delightful absurdity of it all because one common thread from all those three separate instances has been keeping you up for nights. It’s clawing at your brain, lingering in the back of your mind like an incessant stalker— which, mind you, is not a pleasant feeling when the very causes of such disturbance were once the bringers of joy and all things good in your otherwise meaningless life as a cog in the capitalist machinery that is society.

“Hello? Are you awake?”

Said problem being the fact that you’re pretty sure they all called you by your name at one point.

How the fuck do they know your name?

“I deleted Twitter. I Airdropped it to you. No, I have not called it yet. Now please let me think in peace.”

Crazy. This is all too crazy. In the first place, what are the odds that you bump into three celebrities within one week’s time? Is this some sort of prank, or something? Are those three filming a hidden camera show together? No, no. That couldn’t be because there’s no fucking way a company is sane enough to stage a risky hidden camera prank during a fansign knowing full well how obsessive and insane fans can get. You’re lucky your face wasn’t caught in any of the videos circulating online— video of you and Choi Yeonjun, mostly him, acting out a fucking sageuk. You’re lucky you haven’t been doxxed yet.

“Finish your sandwich,” Taehyun clicks his tongue, nudging your food closer to you, and you sigh heavily. Maybe you’re just wrong, you think, taking a bite from the bread. Maybe this is just a misunderstanding. Maybe you’re just overthinking.

You eat your lunch and steal some wet wipes from Gaeul in between. Right. It’s not like you’re ever gonna bump into them again. You live in, as cliche as it sounds, two different worlds after all. You’re just gonna watch their dramas, listen to their music, enjoy their performances, and that’s it that’s it that’s it.

“Prof Jang sent a message. Class is canceled.”

But still—

“Woohoo! Let’s go to the new dessert shop that opened downtown.”

Choi Beomgyu’s voice saying I love you, Choi Soobin’s cologne wafting in the air you were breathing in, and Choi Yeonjun’s lips pressed against your skin.

How can a sane person just forget about all of that?!

“Why do you look like you’re fantasizing about perverted shit?” Woohyun slaps you in the face with a reality check. This is fucking stupid.

“I’m not fantasizing,” you grunt, because they were events that actually fucking happened— they weren’t birthed from your brain’s insanity. “Anyway, dessert? Where is it?” You ignore your burning face, hoping that your friends decide to ignore it too, but Gaeul has her eyes narrowed at you. Crap. She didn’t recognize that it’s you in the videos right? Holy fucking hell, you’d rather die.

“Aren’t you gonna answer that?”

Oh. Well. That’s— that’s something. A good something because she hasn’t suspected you yet, moitioning instead to your cracked phone that has been buzzing under your notice because you’ve been thinking way too fucking much.

You check the caller ID, but it’s an unknown number, and it doesn’t match the business card you got from your run in with the alleged Choi Beomgyu. “Hello?” you answer, and a voice you don’t recognize says your name and asks if it’s you. “Yes, this is her. Who’s this?”

Another item added to the weird as fuck things that happened to your this week. You excuse yourself from your friends, and with knitted brows, you listen to the stranger at the other end of the line. “You met Choi Soobin the other day at a 7-Eleven in Gangnam, right?” The fuck? Did someone see you that day? Is this a stalker? “This is his manager. Lee Byeongho. I would like to speak with you regarding a certain matter.”

Now, hold the fucking phone.

“Is everything alright?”

You respond to Huening’s concern with a stiff smile before turning away from them. “Did I do something wrong?” you fuss into the call. “I didn’t post any of the photos from that day. I never talked about it online either, and I’m pretty sure my friends haven’t either. Wait. Wait a minute. How did you get my number?”

“Yes, it was difficult to obtain knowing only your first name and university.” That doesn’t answer your question. That just gave you more questions. “But, no. You aren’t in trouble. Actually...I called because you’re the only one who can help us— help Soobin— get out of trouble.”

Your face scrunches up.

“I’m at your campus right now. Parking lot. Do you mind meeting me for a moment?”

Just what did you get yourself into?

“You haven’t finished your food. Where are you going?”

“Somewhere,” you reply, quickly snatching your half-eaten sandwich from the table as your friends follow your swift movements with matching looks of confusion. “I’ll be right back. It’s nothing, don’t worry.” However, you are quite worried. You’re pretty sure Lee Manager, or whatever, is committing some data privacy crimes against you, but the one thing you want at the moment is answers. Your brain is about to explode from all the fucking questions and confusion. There’s a sliver of hope that meeting up with this sketchy guy can answer a few of them. You’d take that chance to air out your head.

There’s a black van in the parking lot. It’s the first thing you noticed because one of its doors are open, and there’s a familiar looking guy waiting just in front of the exposed seats. 

He notices you approaching. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” he says. What’s with men you’re meeting for the first time treating you with familiarity? You’re going to rip your hair out and throw yourself into moving traffic.

“Sure, but can you get to the point?” you stiffly say. “I’m a little busy. I still have classes in a bit.”

“Of course, I’m sorry. This whole situation must’ve come off as a shock to you.” Great, now you’re feeling bad. Soobin’s manager (allegedly) looks like he’s been through a whole lot as well. “Anyway. You are a fan of Choi Soobin, correct?”

“Well,” you blink. “Yes.”

“How about the dramas Kang Jaehee has written and directed?” he follows up. “Are you a fan of those as well?”

Your brows furrow. “I guess?” Peach Tree. That Summer. Mogi. Those are the titles that come right at the top of your head. “What does that have to do anything with me?” Manager Lee spares you a look of pity. You feel like this meet-up is just set out to making you even more fucking confused.

“I sincerely apologize. I didn’t want to drag you into this either, but I’m afraid you’re the only option I have,” says Manager Lee despondently. “Since...since you are a fan of Soobin, and I assume that means you also care about his career, so—”

He pauses. Like he’s practicing the next set of words he’s about to say inside his head.

“—do you mind meeting up with him to convince him to take the lead role for Kang Jaehee’s upcoming drama?”

But nothing could’ve prepared you for that.

What.

What the fuck?

“Mr Manager. Sir,” you start, appalled beyond comprehension. “I’d appreciate it if you start making a bit more sense.” 

“Trust me, I can’t believe I’m doing this either.”

You’re speechless. Your mouth is hanging open with no words coming out because, again, what the fuck? Manager Lee looks just as defeated as you, as if he weren’t the one who had just presented that ridiculous proposal. You are, quite frankly, at a discernible loss. 

Manager Lee lets out a sigh and digs a hand into his pocket. “I’m afraid this is all the time I have today. But please contact me once you’ve made a decision.” Another business card acquired. This is just dandy. “I am really hoping for your cooperation, miss. I’m sure you’re aware of Soobin’s inactivity lately, and my intention of approaching you today is simply in order to help my star’s career. Please consider the favor positively, and we will compensate you as much as my authority can allow.”

With that, you’re left with another laminated piece of paper in your hands. Gosh. This is a headache. When you get back to your friends, they notice the distress you’re in, further justifying a visit to the new dessert store, and seeing how your soul has completely left your body, you’re dragged along with them with ease.

“Hey, pick one. My treat,” says Woohyun. You let out a grunt and point at a random pastry on display. Next thing you know, you’re seated in between Huening and Gaeul at the store you don’t even know the name of. 

Huening is force feeding you an eclair. “Eat.” Your scowl disappears when you allow the eclair entry into your mouth. “Seriously, what’s going on with you? Who did you meet earlier?” 

Seeing as you show absolutely no intentions of telling them, they refuse to question you about it further. Good on them, because there’s no way in hell you’re spilling your predicament. Not until you find out exactly what kind of situation you’re in, at the very least. The two business cards feel like they’re weighing your pockets down, a constant reminder of their existence along with the scrawl Yeonjun left behind.  

“I know exactly how to make you feel better.”

The declaration comes from Gaeul, who slides her phone over to you, and when you look down to see what exactly her miracle medicine is to make you feel less manic, you hack out a cough upon seeing Choi Yeonjun’s face on her phone screen. “The hell is wrong with you?” asks Taehyun from across, giving you some water to push down the eclair lodged in your throat. “I know you like him, but even that is an overreaction.”

Jesus, you’re close to losing it. When you’ve avoided choking to death, Gaeul puts an airpod into your ear, and you hear Yeonjun reading out some comments. “Choi Yeonjun, you look really happy lately, did something good happen? someone asked,” he says while having snacks of his own. “First of all, why are you calling me Choi Yeonjun? It’s like you’re putting a wall between us. I don’t like it.”

Gaeul makes a noise of some sort and had you not been subjected to this week’s insanities, you might have reacted the same way too. Instead, you simply listen to his live in caution, feigning disinterest as you watch him nibble on some pretzels and churros through the screen, continuing to answer the slew of questions in the comments.

“Anyway, you’re right! Something good did happen.” Yeonjun hums while picking out a pretzel from the paper bag, rustling noise and a lively tune filling the audio for a moment— a short moment, right before he continues speaking. “That’s because I finally met the love of my life.”

Taehyun has to give you his water again.

“Oh? Oho, what’s with the exclamation points?” he laughs. “Did I meet them the other day? Hmm...that’s a secret. You’re curious? You think it might be you? Well, let’s see. Should I describe her?”

“God, he’s so fucking messy,” says Gaeul from beside you. “This is why I like him. How many calls is he getting for his manager and company this time?”

“What’s going on? Why is she so startled?”

“Yeonjun’s talking about his apparent soulmate, I don’t know. Wanna listen?”

“Didn’t he get in trouble for doing the same thing last time too?”

Now, you’re not one to give a shit about his love life, and you like to stay out of that side of celebrity gossip as much as you can, but Choi Yeonjun himself is droning on about the love of his life right now. You can’t not hear about it even if you want to. However, as much as you want to let things come into one ear and out through the other, you can’t. Because— wait. Wait. His description is eerily familiar. His description is making you double take and second guess what you’re fucking hearing.

“Sounds a lot like you,” Taehyun remarks without much thought, right after Choi Yeonjun says that the girl he likes has a bit of an attitude, but he likes that about her.

Huening lets out a snort. “Yeah, that’s definitely you. Why don’t you go in a wedding dress the next time you attend a fansign? Who knows, you might have a shot.”

You snap them a dirty look. Fuck. This is making your head spin. For the second time, Choi Yeonjun’s tendency of putting himself into headlines and the trending searches for doing something insane is giving you nothing but stress.

“I did give her my number, but she hasn’t messaged me yet, so I’m quite hurt.”

Number. Hold on a fucking second.

“The comments are going crazy.”

You grab your bag from underneath you, dropping it down to your lap.

“Hey, if you’re watching this, pl—eeeeease contact me. Kim Noona thinks I have a phone addiction now because I’ve been dying waiting for your call.”

You quickly get up from your seat.

“Yo, where are you going this time?”

“I need a minute,” you announce, eyes scanning the store for a quiet place alone while hugging your bag to your chest. There’s nowhere. Looks like you have to get out. 

“Damn, we were just joking. As if you have a chance with a celebrity like him.”

Huening’s joke is ignored and you quickly leave outside the doors, making a sharp turn around the corner, slipping through the passersby downtown until you find an empty alley. Your heart is racing. Your heart is racing like crazy and you may be reaching right now. You may be acting crazy, but what Choi Beomgyu said during the interview with Yeong-Il the other day is echoing in your mind, and— in conjunction with everything else that had happened— you’re starting to think that maybe he wasn’t joking.

Your cracked phone screen greets you when you take it out of your pocket. On your other hand is the first business card you got this week.

“Who’s this?”

“Hello. Good day.” You tell them your name, the events that led up to you receiving this number, with the hope that maybe you’re finally on to something. “I’d like to talk about the compensation for my broken phone.”

Whatever that something is, you’re gonna get to the bottom of it.

*

It’s already beyond closing time at Kwiyeomdongmoim Cafe (a mouthful, you know), yet your pink apron is still neatly tied around your waist as you pace back and forth, to and fro, in circles inside the breakroom. The time is half-past nine in the evening. You should’ve clocked out thirty minutes ago, but you’re still waiting. 

The knock on the door signified the end of your wait. You turn to see your boss’s head popping in through the half-open crack. 

“Three guys are waiting for you,” informs Seokmin. “They all seem handsome. Are they your suitors?”

When you ditched your friends at the still unnamed dessert store the other day, you did it to make a few calls. Three, to be exact. Today is the culmination of those calls, which is why you’ve been erratically nervous the entire freaking day. Choi Soobin, Choi Beomyu, and Choi Yeonjun’s managers all answered respectively when you called all the sketchy numbers you got and made some negotiations (apparently, the mess on your album is Yeonjun’s number, but he got his phone confiscated after that livestream). 

“As if,” you say, walking up to the door leading back into the cafe. Suitors, more like stalkers. Fans stalking their idols is common, but the other way around is a pretty fresh idea. “Anyway, thanks, Kyeom. Thank you for letting me use the store for a while.” Because this is the only private place you can think of outside of your own home— and there’s no way in hell you’re letting them in there when you don’t even know how they managed to get hold of your personal information.

“We’re closed anyway.” Seokmin smiles and makes way for you to pass by. “Go ahead and do your thing. Do you want me to stay inside or keep watch?” 

“You can stay inside, it’s alright.” 

He nods. “Call me when you’re done. Scream if you need backup. I can handle all of them.”

You laugh and thank him once more, a pat on his arm before you decide to peek out the door first as a precautionary measure. From your spot, you can see three thoroughly covered men in windbreakers, caps, and masks sitting on three separate tables in the store. The blinds have already been rolled down, so you can’t see anything outside, but there doesn’t appear to be any cameras around, so you take it as a safe sign to finally leave your hiding spot.

The moment you do, the break room door creaks, and all three pairs of eyes immediately fall on you. 

They stand up. They call out your name in unison.

Holy shit.

And when they do, they all look at each other with a sudden flash of hostility in the air.

Um. Well. How are you supposed to do this? “H—hello,” you manage to squeak out, prompting their attention once more. Soobin takes off his cap and removes his mask, the other two following suit, and oh my god. Oh my god. You suck in a deep breath. Today, you are not a fan. You are an interrogator. This is not a fansign. This is an interrogation. 

“I— uh, I asked your managers if I can meet you all to—today for a specific reason.” Wow. Good job. Your hands are shaking and you can’t look up from the floor or else you’d start losing your mind. “But—but, before that— would...would you like some drinks…?”

Interrogation paused. You need to get your shit together first.

“Please enjoy.”

With the help of your boss (because your hands wouldn’t stop shaking and you dropped the first one you made), you managed to whip up four iced teas and settle all three of them into one table at the very back of the store. You send a stiff smile at Seokmin after he placed all the drinks on the table.

God, you owe him so much— especially when he’s being unreasonably glared at by the three men sitting with you right now. Choi Beomgyu to your left, Choi Soobin to your right, Choi Yeonjun directly across from you and holy fuck, you have yet to look at them properly yet for your own safety. They haven’t been talking to each other either, simply sitting and waiting for you to speak. You’re pretty sure they know each other though, at least by name, being in the same industry and all. 

To say that the tension in the air is suffocation would be an understatement. How...how do you start this? The fuck should you say first?

“You know, I was really happy when Kim Noona told me you called.”

Apparently you don’t have to start it. Choi Yeonjun does it for you.

“But why are these two crashing our date?”

And that’s when things also start to get messy.

“Date?” Choi Soobin interjects. He sounds offended. Why does he sound offended. “What are you talking about?”

Choi Yeonjun doesn’t get a chance to make his case. Because Choi Beomgyu from your left suddenly snatches one of your hands from the table, prompting you to look at one of them for the first time tonight, and your eyes fly wide open. “I’d...like to apologize for the other day. I was just overtaken by my emotions. I hope you weren’t too freaked out.”

You are quite freaked out because holy shit, this is too much maybe. Not maybe. Yes. This is too much. Too. Much.“Hey, why are you holding her hand?!” you hear Choi Soobin exclaim from your other side. Choi Beomgyu’s soft expression suddenly disappears into a glare and a sneer the moment he shifts his gaze.

“You’re holding her hand too!”

“Why can’t I?!”

“Hey, this isn’t fair! One of you switch with me—”

Dizzy. You’re feeling dizzy. Your head is spinning and you’re suffocating from the heat emanating from your very face. Whatever they’re arguing about isn’t even reaching your ears anymore. You’re getting lightheaded and your sweaty hands start slipping out from the two’s weirdly tender hold on your hands because your body is physically breaking down.

“Shut up! Oh my god, my head—”

Your vision actually starts spinning for a second so you quickly bring the bottom of your palms to your temples, elbows on the table to balance yourself, only to be wobbled and shaken because the three suddenly jolted off their seats in panic.

“Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine, just please—for the love of god— sit down and shut up.”

They sit down and shut up. You massage your temples in silence. You remove your hands from your face and, after sucking in a deep breath and releasing it thereafter, feel your heartbeat settling into a normal rate. As normal as it can get in this situation.

“Whew. Okay. I think I’m ready. Let’s get down to business.” Finally, you’re the one steering the conversation. You give each of them a once over as quickly as possible because now you know that prolonged eye contact will only hurt you. You settle with looking at the gaps between each of them. That’s fine. You’re fine. “Choi Soobin, Choi Yeonjun, Choi Beomgyu.”

It’s like three bulbs just lit up in succession. Your brain is starting to hurt.

“A—as I was saying, you three are some of South Korea’s biggest celebrities and although I am, in fact, a big fan of all three of you—” Why is Choi Soobin growing pink. Why the fuck is he blushing. “—that— that does not make me fail to recognize the amount of weird shit that’s been happening lately, and I think I need answers.”

They are still sitting down and shutting up. They listen to instructions well, at the very least.

“First, how the fuck did all three of you know my name without any prior introduction. Second—”

The words get clamped in your throat. It’s lodged in there very tightly because you make the mistake of looking one of them in the eye, only to notice that all three of them are looking at you with the same expression. An expression you can only describe as longing.

And your face starts burning.

“Se— second, why…why do you all keep looking at me like I’m an ex you want to get back together with…?”

Maybe you asked the wrong question.

Because for some reason they all look sad now. Really sad. Really fucking sad and it’s making your stomach clench and nerves all numb and funky because making three big celebrities all sad simultaneously is a bragging right at one end of the spectrum, and a national crime at the other.

It’s Choi Soobin who cracks the silence. “I…I had a feeling when I saw you again for the first time at the store.” Again? “Do you not remember me?”

Your face furrows. “No…? Did we ever meet before you became an actor?”

Hurt. The look of sadness has now spiraled into hurt and one might think you just stabbed and twisted a knife into his fucking gut.  “How—how about me?” Your attention turns to Choi Yeonjun who isn’t looking any better. It’s like his entire world view was just proven to be wrong and why does it feel like you’re the one to blame. 

What else can you do but shake your head in denial? Now he looks like he’d just been told he’s adopted!

“You’re…you’re joking,” he tries to laugh it off, but it only comes off as strained and shaky, then, in one fell swoop— desperate. “R—right…?”

“Great!”

Before you start feeling even shittier, Choi Beomgyu finally decides to join in. 

“And here I thought her forgetting about me was the worst case scenario.” His tone is bitter. There’s a snap in his words. “I didn’t think there’d be other bastards in the same situation as me. God fucking damn it.”

There’s a moment of silence. You watch as realization hits the other while you’re still left in the dark. Choi Yeonjun juts his seat closer. Choi Soobin tries to reach a hesitant arm to your direction, but you’re  tugged to the other side by Choi Beomgyu, who’s suddenly a little too, too close.

“Hey.”

Your hands are clamped together. 

“I meant it when I said I love you. I do. I have loved you four hundred years ago and I still love you now, and if whatever god or deity decides to make you meet you for the third time, I’ll still love you then.”

Beomgyu’s holding both of them in between his in a firm grip.

“Second life is about you. Blue Spring is about you. You’re the person I’ve been waiting for from the beginning of this life until the last.”

Now, if this situation wasn’t crazy, your heart would be skipping a beat right now.

But it is crazy. This is fucking insane. And you look around to see that there’s a weird look of sympathy and understanding in the other Choi’s eyes, clearly not recognizing the visceral insanity of this situation, which fills you with a swallowing lump of existential dread. You pry your hands out of Beomgyu’s grasp (you swear you can hear glass breaking), and slowly turn to Choi Yeonjun and say, with a very hesitant, very cautious, “Y...you too…?”

The look on his face says it all. And then you swivel over to Choi Soobin.

“And you?” 

“I’ve lo—”

“No!” you snap. “Don’t finish that sentence. Please. Oh my god.”

You see Seokmin popping his head out from the corner, mouthing an are you okay? and you shakily bring up a weak thumbs up. “Well, isn’t this interesting,” you hear Choi Yeonjun say, which feels like a slap in the face because what exactly is interesting about this. “Here I thought I was special.”

“Get off your high horse,” retorts Choi Soobin, a sneer in his voice. You double take. Choi Soobin is supposed to be sweet and gentle and kind. Who is this man? “Whatever kind of past you had with her doesn’t mean anything. I met her first. I met her at the end of King Danjong’s rule.”

“Ha!” Choi Yeonjun starts. “We got married under King Taejong. I’ve loved her before any of you did.”

Now, what the fuck?

Choi Soobin’s face pales and he chokes over his words. “M—married?”

There’s a smug grin on Choi Yeonjun’s face. He leans back against the chair with his arms crossed in victory. “You heard that correctly. Married. Pack up your bags. Unless you want me to tell you everything we did on our we—”

“Shut up, shut up, I don’t want to hear it!”

Marriage. King Danjong. King Taejong. Second life. The gears are churning inside your head. You don’t like the direction where the gears are pointing.

“What about you?”

Choi Yeonjun raises the question and the attention is now on Choi Beomgyu. He’s been quiet. The other two wait for him to say his piece— a feigned air of disdain and arrogance but there’s an unconcealable undertone of nervousness underneath it all. Your iced teas have been left untouched. Choi Beomgyu simply scoffs and presses his crossed arms against his chest.

“I have no reason to tell you any of that. This is between me and her.”

And at your mention, you receive the undivided attention of three pairs of eyes once more. Your heart rattles. God fucking damn it. Listen, you’re an avid consumer of the entertainment industry. You’ve watched a good amount of dramas and have read a good amount of manhwas to surmise a conclusion with the bits and pieces of stray information being tossed back and forth between the three. And it’s all ridiculous. But you have nothing else to work with unless they come spilling their guts themselves.

“So,” you clear your throat. “Are you three, like…a couple…hundred years old…?”

They all look offended. 

“No!”

Well, maybe you’re wrong about that part. But after a very long, convoluted discussion, the “facts” (if you can even call it that), are finally laid down on your feet.

They say you’ve all met before. Separately, in three separate lifetimes, with this one allegedly being your fourth unless there were lives in between that they can’t remember. One thing for certain is that the three of them remember the life they had while loving you— and they loved you very much apparently because those feelings and memories got carried over even after they got reborn into the present day.

The problem is, you don’t have the same symptoms. You don’t remember anything about your past lives. Hell, you can’t even remember anything in this life before you hit two years old. 

You slump in your seat. The table rattles. They get up from their chairs and come circling around you in concern.

“Are— are you okay, do you need to lie down? You could rest in my van for a while and—”

You swat Choi Yeonjun’s hand away before it could land on your shoulder. You’ve now got your hands on your face in stress, and peeking through you see Choi Soobin on your right, crouching down and looking up at you with furrowed brows and big, sad eyes. On your left is Choi Beomgyu, half-seated on the chair. You let out a very long, very anguished and muffled groan. This is too much. “If— if what you guys are saying is true,” you say. “What does it matter?”

There’s a tense pause in the air. 

“What do you mean…?”

You spring up from your seat and turn around, Choi Yeonjun in front of you. 

“I mean what does it all matter? King Sejeong, Joseon era, or whatever— I don’t care about all of that. We’re in the twenty-first century right now. I’m neither your lover nor your wife. I’m just a fan of your dramas and music and performances and that's it.”

You squeeze your eyes shut. You don’t really want to see their faces right now. You let a huff of air slip past your lips, turning back around to collect the untouched glasses of drinks on the table.

“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet me and explain. I hope it’s all settled. Thanks for clearing everything up today. You can now all leave.”

It’s Choi Yeonjun who races after you when you make your firm and quick strides to the counter. He cuts off your path. “I—I don’t understand,” he chokes out. You make the mistake of meeting his gaze and see the threat of tears glazing his eyes. “What—what do you mean?”

Admittedly, that hurled a giant pang against your ribcage, knocking the air out of your chest, but you move forward. You brush past him, setting the glasses back on the counter, and— after a moment’s pause— you turn around, a heavy weight on your shoulders. It’s like gravity is trying to suck you deep into the mantle. “What I’m trying to say is we should all just get over what happened all those hundreds of years ago and live our lives in the present. I mean, I don’t know any of you. Don’t you think it’s unhealthy to keep clinging onto the past, especially when you guys are nothing but strangers to me in this life?”

Dead silence. You don’t dare look at any of them in the face. You try and retreat to the break room as quickly as you can, hands fumbling to untie your apron along the way, but you stumble over your steps, screeching to a halt the moment you hear someone say—

“Do you think it’s that easy?”

You could hear your heart in your eardrums. 

It takes all the strength in your body for you to look back, to see the pained expression on Choi Beomgyu’s face standing the farthest away from you out of the three. “Do you think I put my name out there so that it’d be easier for you to find me, wrote all those songs about you in the hopes that I could see you again if you’re someone I can just easily forget?”

Your throat tightens. It’s like you’re swallowing a boulder.

“If you wanted me to forget about you, you shouldn’t have died right in front of me then. You shouldn’t have told me you loved me right before you went cold in my arms if you wanted me to fucking forget.”

Oh.

Oh, god.

Choi Yeonjun and Choi Soobin don’t look any better. It hits you that you might have been more than a little bit unfair.

“I’m sorry.”

You don’t know your history. You don’t know what the fuck happened between you and them throughout those years that made them feel so strongly about you. But it must be harder for those who remember than for those who forgot.

It’s not like they chose to live in the present with half of their souls stuck in the past, either. You’ve been acting awfully unfair.

“I was being insensitive. I’m so sorry,” you exhale. Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle. Your head is spinning in circles. “But to be honest, this is all still very overwhelming, and I’m having a hard time comprehending and making sense of everything. It doesn’t feel real.” You try to take a step closer, but your legs give in. Choi Yeonjun quickly rushes to balance you back on your feet.

“Don’t push yourself,” he says, softly. You can’t look at him. God, these guys really know how to bring your guilt all the way home.

“Thanks, um, anyway—” You breathe in. Shit, you can’t believe you’re considering this. “Again, I really can’t and won’t be able to understand the magnitude of your— well, uh— feelings, since I really don’t remember anything. But how about…I spend some time with each of you individually, and maybe…maybe it can help in jogging back my memories?”

The atmosphere shifts. Ah. This feels like a fucking trap.

“You— you mean it?”

To be honest, you’d much rather just not deal with any of this, just stay at home and continue living your life with these three men as persons you only know behind the screen. But those looks in their eyes— hopeful and melancholic— make you feel your organs are being rearranged every five seconds, and you’d feel bad leaving them with the pain of this conversation especially after they poured out their hearts to you.

You can’t deny the joy and escape they’ve given you for the past couple of years you’ve spent as their fan. Maybe entertaining this unreality is the least you can do.

“I mean, well,” you start, clearing your throat. “Choi Beomgyu, you still need to pay for my phone. Choi Soobin, your manager wanted me to talk to you about something, and Choi Yeonjun—”

You look at the guy who still has one arm pressed against your back, two hands in a firm grip on your shoulders. He’s looking at you and batting his eyes expectantly. You let out a sigh and set yourself loose.

“I need to discuss something with you soon, too.” As in, please stop vaguely mentioning me in your live streams because I fear I might find an angry mob in front of my house. “I think I have all your contact information anyway.”

There aren’t any more reactions coming from them. This seems like the best possible solution for all of you. You sigh again. This has been an emotionally draining evening. You can’t wait to get some fucking rest.

“I’ll be in touch with you or your managers soon. For now, let’s call it a day.”

STAR STUDDED BAGGAGE. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[agirlwholovesrockstars]

°𝄞 𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 °𝄞

☆ 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝙾𝚗𝚎 ☆

"March 21 1986"

♬♪ 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 ♬♪

ᯓ★ next chapter ★ᯓ

✶࿐ Summary : your heart was heavy and you just wanted to disappear in the world, you stumbled a peculiar old record store and jumped back into 1986

✶࿐ Word Count : help, I'm making a new series again lol

✶࿐ Warnings : 18+ Eddie Munson x Future!FEM!reader, cursing, use of y/n, time travel, comedy, sci-fic, drama, slight family arguments, slight toxic!household, invalidating mental health, slight misogyny, slight physical abuse, I added a character named "Veronica", reader and Eddie are both (20), reader is very defensive when it comes to Hawkins history, a description of reader wearing "Nirvana" long sleeve, ripped jeans, black classic converse, no mention of reader's race/eye color/hair color, reader lives in 2024, that's about it!

✶࿐ What to Expect : it's all the same characters from "Stranger Things" but I wrote them as if they "exist" in real life, I made them as if they were "historical heroes" in Hawkins!

✶࿐ Note To Reader : this is inspired from my tv shows that I loved, I'll be just getting some of the ideas but I promise this will be good and original! very fast paced and hopefully my writing has some improvements! 💗

✶࿐ Author Note : I just hope that you'll love this another world that I created! I've been wanting to do this for so long, please, don't forget to support me! your simple likes, reblogs and comments will always be highly appreciated! 🥺🫶🏻✨

𓆩♱𓆪 𝙚𝙙𝙙𝙞𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩 𓆩♱𓆪

❦ 𝙖𝙜𝙖𝙩𝙝𝙖'𝙨 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙖𝙜𝙚 ❦

"Y/N, get up"

"But, I don't want to-"

"I said- get up now" your mom's voice is firm as she sighs as she walks out of your room

You groaned on the other side of your bed as you tried to shut your eyes but it seems like you're not so sleepy anymore, so, you begrudgingly sit up from your bed

"Your father is waiting downstairs, I prepared breakfast" she says when she passed by your doorframe again

You scoff at that as you tied your hair back and you stand up and went into the bathroom to wash your face

You don't want to eat with him, all he ever does is to spoil everything with his hot tempered behavior

Eating with your family was fun sometimes but you just can't ignore your dad's attitude

You love him but also the same time you hate him

It's so mentally draining that you wanted him to change, you always rooted for him to change but he never does and it drives you mad that you and you mom has to endure

You saw him as you went down by the stairs, he's now scarfing down eggs and bacon

You manage to restrain an eye roll to his presence as you headed towards at the kitchen to grab a glass and pour yourself a water

"It's a miracle that you get outside of your room" he says as he takes a sip of his coffee

Your mom clocked you and gave you a look that says "don't make a scene" , you squeezed your eyes shut as you take a deep breath and you drink your glass of water

It's literally 7am in the goddamn morning

You decided not to join him over at the table as you prepared your plate with the food that your mom make and you grab your mug for your coffee

You overheard the conversation of your mom and dad as you stirred your coffee the fact that it's still a bit hot but it didn't let you stop by drinking the half of it as you chew down aggressively on eggs and bacon

"She's having a hard time, go easy on her"

"Does she have depression? If she does that's bullshit"

Your ears are ringing and the voices from your parents are blurred out from the feeling that you're having, you're heavily breathing

You take the empty mug and plate as you let it clatter on the sink making their attention snap at you

You looked over to them and your dad as fucking as always looks at you like you've done something wrong

It's always been like that, everytime you tried your best, everytime you won a trophy or had an achievement, it is never enough for him

It is ironic that he's complaining about your condition when he's the cause of it, that's why you have this

You hate that he's always comparing you to other students saying that you're not smart and pretty enough

And your mom was always the one who never fails to make you smile most of the time

What the fuck happened? Back then when you're a kid, you like your father until you realized that's why when in family reunions you always caught those looks like "oh, god, he is going to ruin the party"

Yeah, he's maybe caring and do all of the stuff that a father needs to do, he filled his shoes with that

You just despise his generational trauma qualities

All you wanted was a understanding father, if he only just be like your mom it would be so great

"You're the one who is bullshit" you say as your mom winced and releases a deep sigh as she holds your dad's shoulders

"What a disrespectful child! You have no right to talk to me like that!" He shouts out loud as you went to the stairs to your room as you slam your door

You're still panting as you swallow the lump in your throat as you walk through your closet taking out your "Nirvana" long sleeve, denim ripped jeans and socks for your black converse

You tried to avoid the thoughts running through your head as you still heard the muffled sounds from the voices of your parents downstairs

You take a shower as you let the warm water hits your skin as you open the cap from your shampoo as you massage it through your scalp this somehow soothes you

You pour the body wash on your loofah as you scrubbed your entire body

You wrapped a towel on your hair and your body as you brushed your teeth and mouthwashed

You placed your palms on each side of your sink as you turn off the faucet as you look yourself on the mirror

You know you're not proud of what you're going through, you can't even feel anything, you can't do anything to cheer you up, nothing else makes you feel any better

That's why you always try to distract yourself like lathering a lotion to your body, putting on some minimal makeup and spritz a perfume on your pulse points

You still feel....horrible

You feel like the worst daughter on earth

You put all of your stuff inside of your knapsack as you put it over your shoulder

You click your tongue that you almost forgot your charger for your phone and powerbank as you finally take the leave out of your room

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ

You carefully took down the steps as you looked around at the place for your dad

It's just his voice that make your bones jitter

"He left" your mom spoke beside you as she hangs her head slightly low

You saw the red patch on your mom's arm that it looks swollen as she dismissively wave her hand in front of you

Your jaw clenched as she hugs you and place a kiss on your cheek, you sigh in defeat, you know for sure she doesn't want to talk about it

"I'll see you later, Mom" you gave her a small smile as she nods

You looked over at your smart watch and it says 8:30am, you're going to be late because class starts at 9am as you huff in annoyance

You start walking as you begin to fish inside of your pockets and take out your wired earphones as you plug it in your phone

*Mike + The Mechanics - The Living Years starts playing*

You associate this song with your dad, if he only took down his pride and start willingly without judgement ask you about how you feel, you would do it in a heartbeat

A car slowly following you as you heard the non-stop beeping, you take off one of your earphones as you turn around

"Hey! Why are you walking? Hop in!" Veronica shouts as she lifts herself to talk over the car window

You chuckle as you shake your head as you jog over at the passenger's seat

Right, you forgot she'll come over and give you a lift to school

Her smile fades when she sees your lost expression on your eyes as you forced a smile on her

"I'm here" she says and you got taken aback from her side hug as she pats your back

You smile fondly as you pulled back, "Come on, Vee, we're going to be late for class!"

"Can I just hug my bestfriend for a minute?"

You chuckle, "I appreciate it, now, step on it!" you point at her as she laughs

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ

"I don't blame Jason Carver for reacting that way, if I were him on his position, I would've done the same"

You scoff at that, this debate in your history class is taking forever, Veronica can feel your patient is hitting on its limit

"It's 2024 and Hawkins is still a shitshow"

"Goddamn right"

"Oh- what was that Y/N L/N? care for you to join us?" One of the students called you out as you can feel your eyes are going to stuck behind due to over rolling your eyes too much

You mock him a smile, "Yes, I do think I have something to share" as you stand up and went in front

"Oh shit" Veronica smirks as you slightly hit her shoulder

"You know it is never right to kill someone who is innocent"

"Well, how do you know Eddie Munson is innocent? Were you there? You don't know what is like finding out about your girlfriend killed in a freaky way"

"For starters, Jason didn't have any proof, he doesn't have evidence that Eddie Munson did this"

"Have you completely forgotten that his girlfriend was found on his trailer?"

"No, I didn't, just because it happened there doesn't mean he was the one who did it"

"Jason still remains the only right-"

"I won't support a madman who is willingly to kill someone who is innocent and always claiming that Eddie was the main suspect without proper evidence, Jason showed every disturbing behavior towards the people of Hawkins, many people admitted that he brainwashed and twisted every word that happened while looking for Eddie, he turned everyone against him who obviously wasn't supposed to be the one being pressed on and also let's not forget the fact that he punched Lucas Sinclair almost bludgeoning killing him and what for? Why would he do that to Lucas? Was he desperate? Is he frustrated for not having the chance to punch Eddie in the face like he always desired to do, so, instead he poured his anger everything to Lucas? and he wasn't even Eddie, Eddie was the one he was looking for right? Why hitting him the face to a pulp? that just goes to show that he is in fact the one who is dangerous, You missed out that his sister, Erica Sinclair spoken about it publicly on a TV program back in 2001 interviewing him about how his brother almost died because of Jason Carver."

Before your debater speak again, you didn't let it this time

"Have you completely forgotten, the massive earthquake that happened back in 1986? that's where the locals find out that Eddie wasn't the one who is doing those curses all along"

You looked around over your classmates and you saw one of them nodding along to your words

"Henderson, Dustin Henderson, he published a book in 1994 writing about his interaction with his dear friend Eddie Munson and he still keeps saying the same thing until now that he will always be innocent"

"Are you saying that Jason Carver is a villain?"

"No, he is just blinded by the wrong belief's and he needs a guidance for anything else"

Your teacher applauded you and the rest of class did too, your debater slumped both of his shoulders

"A+ for you, Miss Y/N" she smiles at you

"Thanks a lot, freak" he hits your shoulder aggressively making you wince at it as you shook your head sideways

"So much for not accepting losses, does he know sport?" You throw your hands up

The bell rings as it now time for lunch and everyone is leaving out of the room as you watch your bestfriend, Veronica, coming at you and hooking a hand around your forearm

"It's a delight to see him butthurt because he was defeated by a woman and he can't accept it because he has LDS"

"What's LDS?"

"Little Dick Syndrome"

You bursted out laughing as it echoes in the hallway, both of you didn't care as you went inside of the cafeteria

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ

Veronica dropped you off in your house after school

You stand in front of your house as you caught the screen door hitting back and forth as if someone break in, you immediately went alerted mode

Once you carefully walked inside, you saw every furniture is broken and every picture is torn into shreds as you looked for your mom, the moment she's in your sight, you kneel down and took off the bag from your shoulder

"Why are you here?" She's still shaking as you placed your palms over your her shoulders

"What-" you knitted your brows together as you went confused about her remark

"Why are you like this?" She saids when she ripped out from your hold as she stands up

"Mom- are you okay-" you stood up as you went to follow her

"I'm trying to fix this family and why do you always have to spoil it?"

You know what happened while you're away, they both had another heated argument

"I know- you're upset, mom-" you sigh as you picked up your bag

"Why are you like this?" She glares at you and you perplexed why she's blaming this on you

"Excuse me?" You tilt your head

"Why the fuck are you like this?" She gave you an outburst, you didn't have to let this thing get into you but you can't help since you're only a human being

You can't help to have feelings, so, you went defensive

"Mom, I didn't ask for to be like this-" you tried to steady your voice but it cracked the time your eyes went glossy

"Why don't you just suck it up!" She yelled those words as you flinched by the tone of her voice

Your eyes widen but then again it fades when there's a darker cloud is going over to your head overthinking

Your mom had a bad day and you know it's not your fault but you just had enough of it

"You want me to disappear, then so be it" you voice is stern as you turn you back and walk away

You forgot to look back at your mother's eyes, it flickered with regret as it welled up in tears when she realizes what she has done

She didn't had the chance to keep up to you when you're already running miles away

"Oh no- wait- please! Y/N!" Your mom called out to you but you kept running and running

You put your palms over your knees as you pant and step aside from the road

You started walking as you hang your head low

Your try not to think about it, you hate your family, you hate this town and the people in it

"God- I hate this place" you murmured as you kick the tiny pebbles on the ground

When you reached at the abandoned Starcourt Mall, you've never talked or spoken about to anyone else that you feel like you're been there before but you can't place it

Your brows are pulled together as you try to understand it, you also have these weird dreams that keep flashing whenever you're in a deep sleep

Was that a dream? Or is it a memory?

It feels so real, you glanced over the chain leather bracelet on your wrist

You can't recall when did you get that or you didn't even know if you bought it for yourself

It just so happens that it's there

You can't even explain how you got the same cap that Dustin wore, but for some reason, you hide it your closet

Also the faint scars on your neck, it's not gnarly but when you look closer there's something in there

Sometimes, you don't even feel like this world that you woke up to isn't real, it's like you're walking inside of a made up world or a like projector

You started to walk slowly when you only can recollect of the memories that you had with your "family"

But what about the questionable stuff that you have on you?

You might be sounded delusional but why did you have things from the heroes of Hawkins?

You looked over to your right and saw their monumental statue filled with their names on the bottom

"The Fearless Hawkins Indiana Heroes"

You don't know why but you always lingered your stare at a one specific person's name that is engraved on the marbled stone

Why does it feel like you knew him? not only knew him but you feel like you've been with him and it grows something bigger and much more deeper

But then again, you get a hold of yourself because if he's still alive today he would've been 60+ years old by now

This was supposed to make you feel even more sad if you walked around these monuments of them but you feel comfortable and close to them

This place was your sanctuary whenever you feel you don't like to get home early

There's a group photo that is displayed in the front center

You step forward as you tried to inspect the picture

Your eyes goes big as you can recognize the person beside.....Eddie? The Eddie Munson?

You can't see your face clearer that much because you're hiding from the camera and someone definitely captured your photo together all of the sudden

It's the same shirt and jeans that you're wearing right now

"No- that's impossible" you feel boneless and your cheeks lost its color as you try to blink more than once

You might think your mind is just playing with you but it doesn't even goes away

You're still in the picture, it doesn't have to be creepy but you feel alarmed by all of this

This is all becoming too much for you to let it all sink in

So, you left the historical place as you walked faster and faster

You ignore that you crossed the abandoned Family Video

You halt your tracks when you pass by a building that you never seen before

You move your head side to side as you swallow the bile in your throat as you walked closer to it

You don't know why but something else is pulling you inside and to your senses, it feels safe for some reason?

From all of the buildings that you went to, this looks new and it's looked nice inside

It's a record store, it's filled with vinyls, tapes, CD's

You got jumped by the presence of a older man but he looks familiar to you the moment he appeared in the front desk

You will never ever understand why that he looked at you like that

He got this knowing look in his eyes, this was supposed to make you feel weird, you can just turn your heel and walk away but you didn't

"I believe you will like this one"

He slides a "Journey - Separate Ways (Worlds Apart)" tape in front of you

Now, this is even got more odd to you, is that even a coincidence that he knew your favorite song?

"I'm sorry- wait- how did you"

"Oh shoot, I forgot to wear my name tag"

There he goes in the backroom as you frustratedly sigh

This is a very a bad idea but a stranger? gave you a tape?

But, you still took it nonetheless as you looked for your vintage walkman as you placed the tape inside

You put on the headset and the moment you start to press play

Your hands begin to swirled in the air, you panicked as it goes everywhere

There's like a lazer boom sound and it all happens too fast and now you're standing in the same place but you're in the middle of the woods as the peculiar building is now long gone and from what you know

The morning has already passed and from where you were earlier is already noon

You stopped the tape as you remove the headset and put it all to your bag as you try to walk around the area

"That....was....very....trippy" you said as you try to brush it off what just happened

The time you stepped in the road, you saw a lot of retro cars and you didn't even noticed the people inside of it, of what they look like but the moment all you can see is from the 1980's cars on the road you started to feel strange

You shake your head and you made up your mind that you're only just hungry that's why you're seeing things as you headed to home but then you remember that you had a homework for English class and you forgot to bring home your book, so, you groaned in annoyance as you walked to school

When you reached your destination, you gasped

Why does everyone looked like from those pictures you saw in your school library?

When you looked some of the students, you've been getting these eccentric looks from them, it's not offending, they don't even looked disgusted

It's just that it looks like you're in....No- no- no- absolutely not we're not going down there

You've noticed they tried to read what's in your shirt and you try to stealth your moves as you walked forward

Oh my god, it gets even more bizarre when you stepped inside

This doesn't looked like your school, you know that your school got renovated so there's a lot of changes in it

You're so crazy for thinking like this, you're crazy for asking it

"Um- I'm sorry, can I ask what date and year is it?" You asked one of the students in the locker

"Oh, sure, no problem, it's March 21 1986"

You need to restrain the shock from your face from what she just said "March 21 1986?" You say it again

"Yes, that's right! Wait- I'm gonna get to class now, bye!" She saids as she picked up her stuff from the locker and jogs away

"Oh my god.....oh my god- I'm in the past?" You whisper-shout as you try to calm down

You're so bamboozled as you looked at the tape again, now, you know why you're here

It's because of the tape that you played not an hour ago

You pinch yourself, you try to slap your cheek but no to avail, you're not dreaming

This is real and you're here

How will you ever get the fuck out of here?

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ

"I'll talk to you later, okay?" He ruffles his hair as the boy winces from his action, no way, that's Mike Wheeler

You're still walking around inside trying to figure how to escape this and then you heard his voice

You try to find him until your eyes landed on him

Jesus Christ, the few pictures that you saw from him in the books don't even do justice

He looks even better in person, he looks so handsome, you admiring Edward Munson from afar

You rolled your eyes to yourself when you find yourself harboring a crush over some dead guy, not even just some dead guy

He's a hero, if only the Hawkins knew what he is like

He has always been described in the real authentic books that you read that he is kind, gentle, playful, full of wonder, very caring to those people who is exactly like him, an outcast

Now, you're seeing it for yourself right between your very eyes, it feels so different in person, you always had been so defensive when it comes to his personal life, out of all the history in Hawkins, he's the only one that you ever truly cared for as if you knew him in real life, you've never even met him until now whatever this is, even if it's real or not, you're so honored to come by this close to him you became even more empathetic to him when you saw how he truly behaves while he was still alive

Your smile slowly drops when you realized that he doesn't even know, no one else in the group knows what will happen to him

All of the nasty things that people talked about him in the past and even in the future

You will never forget when in 2022, you saw the news that they lifted the case that he was truthfully innocent

When they should've done it years ago

Is this the reason why you're in here? To help them? To help him?

The bell rings that made you snap out of your thoughts and everyone is walking towards to the cafeteria as you follow suit

Oh shit, are you witnessing the moment of history that just happened here?

You shudder when you saw Jason Carver, god- his great grandson looks like just like him and acts like him too, you try not to barf thinking about it, his stupid descendants still spreading lies until now, you can't believe they have the privilege to do that

Enough of about the Carvers, holy shit- he got a fat ass point on his speech as you watch him strut his way in the table

You know D&D, but you never played it, now, seeing it unfold, god- he is so serious about it

Dustin was right, it is a sadistic campaign

The fact that you take a step back because you know damn well they wouldn't believe you if you told them what will happen to Eddie later

But, there's a force that is pulling you here and whatever you try to hesitate, you will still go for it

Especially you can't even stand by it for your conscience even though is already written in the books

What is done, is done, what happened, happened

Can you somehow change the past? Can you undo the events that happened back then?

will Hawkins, can be peaceful when you manage to remove the curse in the town?

You will have to wait until....He'll met Chrissy

Oh shit, right, he's going to sell K to the Queen of Hawkins High

But, first, you'll have to know her favorite song, so, you can save her and Eddie won't be a wanted man

If only it was easy to plan it, you know they can't just believe you, but you will try

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ

You saw Chrissy in the woods, acting all horror-struck as she looked everywhere and when you follow her gazes, you see nothing else that you can see that is terrifying, you ran up to her

When she almost tripped herself as she goes backwards, she bumped into you as she shrieked

Instead, you're the one who got bumped behind your back to Eddie

"Woah, woah, hey- I'm sorry- I didn't mean to scare you" he smiles all dimples are shown but confusion is etched immediately to his features when he looked at you

"You okay?" He looked over to your shoulder as he asks Chrissy

She didn't respond, she's still looking at the tree with fearful eyes

Eddie looked where she is looking as he gotten more confused

You hold both of her shoulders to swing her around to face you

"Hi, sorry, I know you don't know me but you gotta believe me, I know what frightens you"

She squints her eyes a little bit but the terror is still present as she looked at Eddie who is puzzled

"I don't know what you're talking about-"

"I know why you wanted to buy drugs to Eddie"

He moved beside you as he tries to understand the situation, he wanted to cut off the scenario but something tells him that you're saying the truth

"What-"

"I know you seeing things, Chrissy"

She's trembling under your touch as her eyes starts forming tears on her waterline

"I-I don't-"

"You saw the grandfather clock"

Her eyes widen when you knew what she saw

"How did you-"

"You heard chimed 3 times"

"You're scaring her, now, back off" He clicked his tongue as he gestures you move away

You sigh in defeat as you follow to what he just said as Eddie pulls Chrissy behind his back

Chrissy who is now stunned at how accurate the things that you just said

He roams his eyes at you from top to bottom, and he got curious at the picture that looked like a band from your long sleeve

"Who are you, anyway?" He asks you as he crosses both of his arms

"That's not for you to know" my god- his eyes are so pretty, what the fuck- okay, Y/N focus!

You tried to get close to Chrissy who has this hopeful eyes at you

"Chrissy, let me help you-" you walked closer but Eddie blocks your way

"Hey, I told you to back off!" He gave you a pointed look

"I'm trying to save her life!" You exclaimed, you missed the way Chrissy has become shaken

"What?" He shakes his head in confusion

Chrissy blinks rapidly as she's the one who went in front of Eddie

You stare at her, watching her intently as you see her nod slowly, meaning that she wants you to elaborate

"I know exactly who is the person behind calling your name out of nowhere, other people can't see it when you're in a trance, but I know it is real, he got you cursed because he likes to target people who are traumatized by their life events" you explained as you pause taking deep breaths

You continue "You buy drugs to Eddie just so you can be distracted from all of the things that you're seeing, when you ran out, that's where it all comes back again"

"Who is he?" Eddie scratches the back of his neck

"Vecna" you plainly said

"I'm sorry, but how can you be so sure that she is for real?!?" Eddie chuckles lightly as he looked down to Chrissy

There is only one way to find out that you're actually saying the truth

"Do you know what he looked like?" Chrissy softly speaks as she swallowed tightly

"I can't describe the perfect word for him but he's tall, has a lot of vines going over his neck, he has powers just by using his hand he can control over you like a snap, he looked like a.....monster"

"What a fucking shit show, are you buying-" he stopped when he heard the faint sniffles and the sharp gasp that she just let out

"She's telling the truth, Eddie" She gulped as she looked up to him and she went frantic when she glanced at you

"Okaaaaaay, I don't know what the hell is going on and from what I know I was only to meet Chrissy here not you, you just spawned out of nowhere and your clothes-" Eddie starts to ramble as he wipes his face with his palm

"Wait- no, don't go- Chrissy!" You tried to chase her but it was too late, she is gone from your vision

"If I were her, I would do the same thing"

"Like what-"

"Running away from you"

You scoff, "Eddie, I am trying to save a life here and you too"

He dramatically taken aback as he mocks a gasp, "What about me?"

God, he can be such a cute nerd dork but he's also a pain in the ass

"You don't believe me right? Let's just say after your D&D campaign later will be successful with your Hellfire Club and the sub that you demanded to Dustin and Mike will be Erica Sinclair because Lucas can't be there because of the laundry baskets game" you gesture to his shirt he tries to speak but you beat him to it as you continue, "when you go home, Chrissy will be there with you because she wanted something more stronger than you just offered but since I came here first to warn her, the deal didn't happen, so, I guess this will be the only time for you to be free to walk around"

"Free? From who?"

"From the police" you walk away with that and you didn't even bother to wait for his reply

"that's such bullshit, I didn't even know her name" he shooked his head as he left the woods

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ

Eddie wanted to drop the scenario that happened with you earlier

But, his mind won't shut up if you're right all along

You we're right that Erica is the sub

The campaign went well, too well

"Hey, Henderson" he gathered all of his stuff back on his bag

"Yeah?" Dustin replies as he helps Eddie to clean up

"I met up with Chrissy earlier in the woods but someone else is there"

"Shit, was it Jason?"

"No- not him, it's another girl but-"

"But?"

"She's different, she acts different and even her clothes are out of the ordinary"

"So, what if she's so different?"

"Dustin, she spoke something about Chrissy that I can't understand like the grandfather clock and some kind of a hideous monster putting curses in all of kids in Hawkins"

That's where the boy began to straighten himself up as he looked at Eddie this time who is still perplexed

"And then what else did she say?"

"See, here's the funny thing, I don't believe that much into predictions but she already knew about what happened here"

"Oh?"

"She knew about Erica, she knew that our campaign will be fine"

"Does this girl, have a name?"

"Nah, I didn't get the chance to ask her because it all happened too fast-"

He stops abruptly as he carries his bag as Dustin placed the boxes on the shelf, "One thing that made me feel eerie is that she told me that I only have a few hours left that I was free from the police"

"What?" Dustin looked at him in confusion as he thinks Eddie's words carefully, but why does it feel there's a knowing pounding in his heart that he might know what this is all about

The secret that his metalhead friend that he didn't know about Hawkins

"Yeah, I know, it's weird" Eddie just shrugs

"Maybe, it's all just a coincidence"

"How will it be just a coincidence when she told me everything all at once without her stuttering"

"I think she's just messin' with you" he gets on with his bike as Dustin doesn't like to think too much about the information that his friend just said

"You know what, you're probably right, pal- I'll see ya, tomorrow" He sighs as he gives him a small smile and pats his back as he waved goodbye to Dustin

When he's about to unlock the driver's seat to his van

Fuck, he jumped when he felt a touch from his shoulder and my god- it is Chrissy

He wants to know who are you? Why do you know all of this?

It's so impossible that this is just a coincidence

"That girl is getting all too real for my liking, jesus christ" He muttered the words under his breath as he places his palm over his chest as he calms down first

"Sorry, Eddie- uh- I still need the-" He cuts her off as he motions to the passenger seat

"Yeah, you can hop on" He nods as he jogs over to the other side

"Eddie, do you have it?" Chrissy bops her knees up and down anxiously, she craned her neck to peek at Eddie who is looking through his stuff

"I got it- somewhere-" He stood up as he tries to think where he hid it and turns his back on her and went to his bedroom

When Eddie left her all alone, Chrissy thought she was still in the same world

A cold sweat runs through the side of her face when she realizes it as she furiously panicked as she looked everywhere for Eddie

"It's time for your suffering to end"

"Eddie!" she got goosebumps at the sound of this monstrous voice as she continues to kick and bang every wall to cry out for help

"Found it! peaceful bliss just moments away" his smile fades when he saw Chrissy standing so still and he noticed her eye color changed

It's all white with blue-ish hues on them

He starts calling her name, snaps his fingers, clapping both of his hands, he shakes her by the both of her shoulders and slapping her cheek in the same process

His heart begins to thump into his chest when he noticed all the lights on the room are flickering non-stop

It finally dawned on him that you're right yet again

"What the fu-" he steps back when Chrissy begins to levitate, he didn't even know that his hand is shaking in fear

The front door bangs open as he fells all the way down to floor in shock when he saw you standing on his doorstep

You glare at him and then you saw Chrissy is on a trance, Vecna already has her and you know if you don't move now she will be gone for good

"Chrissy, I'm here, you can escape this"

You shakily put the headset on her and put the tape on your walkman and you press play

"I know he has you, please- listen to my voice, follow my voice, if you can see any portal in there, run for it, I know you can do it"

Eddie slowly gets back up to his feet as he swallows the lump in his throat as he walks closer to the both of you, he sniffles and has clammy hands

Chrissy saw the portal fading in behind Vecna as he holds her still

She quivered from the vines that goes along to her waist as she clocked the hammer beside the small table, she was just about to be covered in vines so she has the time to discreetly get it

By your doing, this caught the attention of Vecna as he turns his head back as he felt someone else doesn't belong in this timeline

She heard your voice as it echoes in again and again in the same area

The moment he looked at her again, Chrissy hit him in the head harshly buying more time to try to make a run for it

Vecna tries to get her but Chrissy swiftly dodges his traps as he grunts in pain

"Eddie" you call his name for assistance

He's in a state of shock as he doesn't know what to do, his ears began to throb as he can't steady the beating of his heart

"Eddie!" You said it out loud this time

"Y-Yeah?" His eyes are misty as he blinks at you

"I know you're scared but I need you to get ready to catch her, she must land between the two of us so she won't get hurt, Okay?" You demonstrate it to him

He gives you a tight nod as he inhales deeply

When Chrissy reaches the portal with you and Eddie being on it, the sight became all pitch black

The moment she woke up realizing she's still floating she dropped into your arms to Eddie's and she's finally brought back into the real world

She gasps in relief and began to wail in your arms and to Eddie's, she's still looking around as if she were being tricked again, you saw the look of almost life-threatening experience on her eyes, your eyes starts to water when she recognizes you and let her embrace you as she begins to weep

You saw Eddie's hands quavering as he looks like he's about to faint from what he just witnessed

Before he hits his head first, you hold his hand tightly making him look in your eyes directly as you use your other hand to held Chrissy as you comfort her

"You're okay, we're safe.....for now"

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.₊˚ʚ

taglist <3 : @paleidiot @marsmallow433 @whothefckissofia @letsfallinlove-blog @silky-luxe @imagine-all-the-imagines @theladyasgard

(Yay, finally, I posted the first chapter of this series and I hope you enjoyed and liked it! Thank you so so so very much of your support! I greatly appreciate it, I did not expected my idea to be recognized and I feel so happy about it! take care always and stay hydrated! I hope y'all stick around for the next part! 🥺🫶🏻✨)

[she-wolf09231982]

Joe Toye

“The Bunny and The Fox”

Summary: You thought Joe Toye was too scary to even consider a friend, but he proves to be not only a great friend, but also a lover.

A/N: One shot, Mature audience, JoeToyeX!FemMedic, WW2, Female Pronouns, Cursing/Swearing, Derogatory Slurs, Womanizing Comments, Military and Medical Terminology, Inappropriate Nicknames, HBO Band of Brothers References, Mentions/Descriptions of Injuries, Weaponry, Smoking. Angst/Conflict, Smut, *John Wayne/McClintock Movie Quote*, FOREVER FLUFF

@awaterfalls 😁🪖♠️🦅❤️

These stories may not fall entirely in accordance with the TV series timeline. I do not know the real soldiers the actors portray in this series, so please understand I show no disrespect. Some or most of historical events and character interactions in my fanfics are fabricated purely for the sake of the enjoyment of fiction*

~~~~~~~

He always appeared so….serious. His face in a constant state of pissed off and disdain. If looks could kill, Joe Toye (and Johnny Martin) wouldn’t have needed weapons in the war.

You avoided him all through Toccoa. He just seemed like the type to leave the hell alone. But every now and then, you caught a glimpse of him smiling or laughing with the guys.

“Not bad.” You’d think to yourself as you admired his smile.

Since you trained with Easy as a medic, you rarely had an excuse to speak to him unless he was injured. Even then you kept your conversation short and sweet with hardly any eye contact. But with his low raspy voice came a sense of calm while you took care of him. You supposed he seemed friendly enough.

~~~~~~

June 1944 Post D-Day

Orders were given to take Carentan where German soldiers were being sheltered. Carentan was the main crossroad between Cotentin and Calvados where the ally force's tanks needed passage to attack the main objective, Cherbourg.

"Listen up!" LT Welsh shouted. "It'll be dark soon. I want light and noise discipline from here on. No talking, no smoking. And no playing grab-fanny with the man in front of you, Luz. We're taking Carentan. It's the only place where armor from Omaha and Utah Beach can link up and head inland. Until we take Carentan, they're stuck on the sand. General Taylor's sending the whole division."

Some of the men began to grumble under their breath. Everyone started to stir to gather their gear to begin the journey to Carentan.

Walking in a file formation on each side of the road to Carentan. You found yourself walking in front of Toye as Perconte proceeded you.

“Hey Toye, why you always in the middle when we convoy anywhere? Ain’t you ever in the front?” Guarnere teased.

“I go wherever the medic goes in case I get hit, Bill.” Joe responded.

You blushed and dared to sneak a glance behind you. As you did, Toye met your gaze shooting you a quick wink. You quickly look back to the front embarrassed he caught you acknowledging him.

“Awe now look what ya did. You scared her.” Guarnere teased.

You hear some of the guys laugh.

“Maintain your noise discipline.” Winters reminded.

~~~~~~~

"MEDIC!!"

You and Doc on separate ends of the streets trying to keep low to tend to the wounded.

You rush to two soldiers landing on your knees next to them, one on the ground with a trail of blood coming from his helmet, the other crouching over him.

"He's still breathing, help me carry him!" You call out. You each grab an arm of the injured soldier and drag him behind a building.

While you're working on the nameless soldier's head wound, a drug store gets blasted by German artillery not far from where you were, the force from the explosion sending you sideways into the brick wall next to you.

You shake your head to stop the ringing in your ears. Everything you could hear was distant as your vision became fuzzy and dark. You start to smack your ear trying to make it pop so you can get back to your senses.

“Y/L/N! We gotta move! Get up!” Toye’s muffled voice yelled out.

He grabbed you by the arm pulling you up to your feet. You still couldn’t barely see so you held onto his arms for dear life.

“I-I can’t see nothin’ Joe!” You called out to him.

“Ok, come on…UP we go!” You hear him grunt as he threw you over his shoulder.

You feel him trotting to safety while blast after blast erupted all around you. You feel him lower you as gently as he could to the ground against a wall.

“Hey, look at me.” Toye said as he guided your face towards his, “Can you see me now?”

You shake your head, “No, it’s all dark and blurry.” You reply as tears started to stream down your cheeks.

Were you going blind?? Is this it? You’re not going to be able to see your family’s faces? Never see your own reflection? You feel yourself slipping into shock.

“Hey! Stay with me now, ok doll? Don’t cry. Doc’s on his way.” You hear Toye’s voice break through your thoughts.

Doc ducked behind the wall with you and Toye.

“What’s the matta’ with her?” You hear Gene ask.

“She can’t see. Says everything is blurry.”

“Gene, I think I’m going blind. Am I going blind??” You asked panicked trying to reach out for him.

“What happened before she couldn’t see?”

“A shell dropped right by her and she went flying into a brick wall.”

Gene nodded, “That’ll do it. You got a concussion, Y/L/N, you ain’t goin’ blind.”

You released a sigh of relief.

“Joe, can you get her back to HQ? She ain’t no good out here if she can’t see nothin’.”

“I got her, Doc.”

~~~~~~~

Toye got you back to an aid station not long after Easy Company claimed victory over Carentan. You remained there until the following day after your vision returned. As you approached a group of the guys from Easy, you were welcomed with whoops and cheers.

“Hey! Look who it is!” Luz called out.

All the guys turned to find you walking towards them.

“Hey look what the cat dragged in!” Malarkey joked.

The chorus of laughter from the men lifted your spirits.

“Yeah, I look rough, I know. Thanks guys.” You greet.

You looked around for Toye.

“He’s over there.” Luz pointed out as he gestured with is thumb over his shoulder.

“Oh, I just, uh, wanted to thank him for-“ you began.

“-yeah, yeah we know. He’s over there.” Malarkey interjected pointing down the street.

You feel yourself get flustered so you scamper off to where they said Joe was. As you walk through the rubble that Carentan has become, you see Toye standing in a circle with a few of the other guys from Easy. He throws his cigarette butt on the ground, stomping it out with his boot before he turns and sees you.

His face lights up when he saw you walking up.

“Hey there she is!” Guarnere hailed.

Bill met you and extended his hand for you to shake, which you obliged.

“Good to see you, Bill.”

“Glad to see you up and about, doll.” He pulled you in closer, “Someone’s been real worried about you since they left you at the aid station, by the way.” He disclosed.

You pull back and met Bill’s face with confusion. He winked and motioned over to Toye with his chin.

“Go on and say hi to him.” Bill added.

You narrow your eyes at him and smile. You slowly approach Toye as he stood there with his hands in his pockets and smirking as he patiently waited for you.

“Hey, Toye.” You squeak.

“Hey, Y/L/N. Good to see you.” He replied with his signature husky voice.

“Well, if it weren’t for you, I probably wouldn’t be here. Thank you for helping me.” You say as you leaned in and kissed him on the cheek.

You hear Guarnere whistle. You turn around and shake your head at him.

Toye cleared his throat, “It was nothin’.”

You both stood there awkwardly until Bill came over.

“Hey, the guys were going to go to the bar that survived the wreck. You wanna join us later for a few night caps, Y/L/N?”

“Sure, if I can find a place to get cleaned up.”

“Ok it’s that little place over there. We’ll all be there around 1900, aight?”

You knew Bill was scheming something for you and Toye. You look at him suspiciously.

“Ok, I’ll see you guys there later.”

~~~~~~~

You breeze through the front door of the pub and begin scanning the room for the familiar faces of Easy.

“Hey! Y/F/N! Over here!” Guarnere called out waving his hand.

You push through the crowd to get to the table where most of your guys were sitting. You catch Toye playing darts with LT Compton, Luz, and Heffron.

“What can I getchya?” Bill asked.

“Oh, whatever you’re drinking, Bill.” You reply.

“Comin’ right up.” He announced as he walked to the bar.

You look back to Toye and catch his eyes looking at you too. He smiled and raised his glass to you with a wink. You smile back and give him a little wave.

“Here ya go.” Bill returned handing you a pint glass of beer.

You cheers and take a hearty gulp.

“Thanks, Bill.” You say as you squeeze his arm.

~~~~~~~

The night was filled with laughter, banter, and taunts amongst Easy. And somehow, your glass kept getting magically refilled by each of the guys. You had to refuse Malarkey’s offer to buy your next round because you felt your head starting to spin.

“Ok, we’ll slow down.” Don chuckled, “But when you’re ready, I got the next one!”

“Yessir.” You quipped.

You turn towards the dart boards and see that Toye had moved. You began to search the room for him and suddenly stop at the bar where he was talking to a local woman dressed in a tightly fit dress.

You felt a distinct sense of dread mixed with anger, but you weren’t sure why. The longer you watched Toye leaning closer to whisper in her ear while she giggled, the more your rage boiled over inside.

“What’s the matter, doll? You gotta look on ya like you’re gonna murder someone.” You hear Guarnere chime in.

You avert your eyes to the floor.

“It’s nothing.” You say quickly.

Bill looked where you were just looking.

“Well ain’t that a son of a bitch. After all the trouble I went through to set you’s guys up, he goes and finds another bird to chat up.”

You look at Bill, “What do you mean set us up?”

Bill looked at you alarmed.

“Oh, well, I thought you knew. Toye over there has got it real bad for ya. Has ever since basic but he figured he never had a chance. I told him you were a catch and that you had a thing for him too.”

“Oh do I now?” You asked astounded by his response.

“Well, don’tchya?”

“I suppose he’s handsome. Good soldier. But looks like he’s not as sweet on me as you think.” You state as you gesture to Toye by the bar getting disgustingly close to the blonde bombshell.

“Ah, he’s an idiot. He’s just trying to get laid.”

You look at him with daggers behind your eyes. Bill’s eyes widen.

“Uh, what I mean is he don’t care about her, ya know? He’s trying to not think about you because he thinks you’re outta his league.” Bill hastily explained.

“Yeah? Well, I’ll get his attention.” You declare as you storm off towards the bar.

“Ah shit.” Bill mumbled to himself rolling his eyes.

You walk up to a soldier from Fox Company standing a few feet away from where Toye was with his new little friend. You approach the bar and slightly bend over to the surface of the bar and rest your elbows on it. The soldier noticed you right away and a devilish grin appeared across his face.

You look over at him and smile.

“Hey, angel, you’re the prettiest face in here.” He said as he scanned you from head to toe.

You see Toye look over the blonde’s shoulder at you. So you inched closer to the stranger.

“At least someone noticed how hard I worked on my make up tonight.” You say loud enough for Joe to hear.

Toye’s jaw started to tighten. Your plan was working like a charm.

“What are you talkin’ about? You’re a dish!” He returned enthusiastically, “Can I get you a drink?”

“A pint is fine.”

Toye excused himself from the company of his little vixen and approached you with obvious vigor. He stopped so close to you, you can feel his breath on your face.

“You think you should have anymore?” Toye asked in a low gravelly tone.

You were almost a puddle at his feet.

“What’s one more?” You dismiss.

“Hey, buddy, this one’s mine. Get lost.” The Fox soldier warned.

Toye glared at him, a clear warning with his fierce gaze to back off. “Shut up.”

He turned back to you. “You hit your head hard yesterday. You got a concussion, remember? Drinking too much isn’t good for you right now.” He cautioned.

The soldier behind Toye huffed outloud. You bring your face closer to his.

“How about you go on back to your little blonde bunny over there and worry about her?” You say softly staring intensely into his eyes.

You snidely smile and gently push him aside to accept the beer the Fox soldier was holding for you. Toye grabbed your wrist before you could get your fingers around the glass.

“Because I’m worried about you.” He sternly replied.

“Hey, pal, I’m not gonna tell ya-“

Before the guy could finish his sentence, Toye swung and punched him across the face sending him to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

“Joe, what the hell is the matter with you?” You bark.

He turned to face you, his teeth clenched and resentment in his eyes.

“Isn’t this what you wanted? You got my attention.” He said raising his arms to the side.

Just then, another Fox Company soldier soared in and tackled Toye. When Guarnere saw Toye get sacked, him and the rest of Easy rushed in, clashing with Fox Company in a battle royalé in the middle of the dance floor.

You grab a bottle of whiskey and force your way into the horde to smash it over the head of one of the opposing soldiers when you suddenly feel your feet swiftly leave the floor, and you find yourself once again thrown over Joe Toye’s shoulder as he rushes out the front door.

You start to push off of his back to look at him.

“What are you doing?? Put me down, NOW! This is completely barbaric! Were you raised by wolves??”

“Shut your mouth.” Toye said sharply.

He wouldn’t cave no matter how hard you struggled. He continued to carry you until he got to the house where you had been staying at with the field nurses. He opened the front door and practically threw you onto the couch in the main corridor.

“You’re an absolute animal, Joe Toye.” You snarled at him.

“Yeah? You haven’t even seen the worst of it yet.” He retorted.

You stood up, only to lose your balance and fell backward on to the couch again.

“Well save it.” You spit back crossing your arms, “You can go now. I’m sure that little dish at the bar is waiting on you.”

Toye furrowed his eyebrows at you, “You’re the only one even thinking about her. I haven’t even given her a second thought since you walked through the door of that place!”

You scoff, “Sure, Joe. Didn’t seem like it when your hands were all over her like a magnet.” You pointed out as you stood up slowly.

“Yeah?” He queried as he closed the gap between the two of you, “You mean like this?”

He roughly grabbed you by the waist and kneaded your hips with his strong calloused hands as he pulled you into him. Your faces so close, you thought he was going to kiss you, but he only hovered over your mouth. You were a deer in the headlights, your words caught in your throat somewhere. You almost forgot to take breath when you started to feel faint, so you took in a deep breath through your nose to recover.

You put your hands on his chest and started to push away.

“What are you doing, Toye?” You manage to say.

He jerked you back into him, slithering his one hand across the small of your back while the other one firmly caressed the swell of your ass. You tried to protest, but your voice betrayed you only allowing a whimper to escape from your throat. This man had you a melting hot mess in his arms and it only made you angrier that he was getting you flustered.

“What? Got nothin’ snarky to say now, sweetheart?” He teased.

The fire inside you began to rise, and you weren’t sure if it was because you were turned on, or pissed off.

“I hate you.” You sneered as you slipped out of his grasp and headed for the staircase.

Before you could lift your foot to take the first step, you feel yourself twirled back around and face to face with Toye in his arms.

*“Half of the people in the world are women…Why does it have to be you that stirs me?”* He growled before grabbing the back of your head to bring your mouth to his.

You wanted to fight back and push away again, but your body fought you, leaning into his body and fisting his uniform jacket to pull him as close as possible to you. You part your lips to allow his tongue to pass and explore yours. You playfully nip at his bottom lip eliciting a deep guttural groan from him. His hands scoured your body as his hips instinctively pushed his hard on against you. You dig your nails into his shoulders as you moan into his mouth.

You pull back, “Let’s take this upstairs.”

Toye only replied with a mischievous grin, then picked you up bridal style to carry you up the stairs. When you direct him to your room, he set you down to secure the door. Right at the moment he turned around, you forced him against the door and hungrily kiss him while unraveling his tie.

He grabbed you by the shoulders swinging you around pinning you against the door with a ‘thud’ then placed his hand around your throat. He tightened his grip enough to make a point he was in charge, but not hard enough to alarm you. You instinctively grab his wrist with both hands as you clenched your thighs together, hoping to get some friction against your core and to prevent the wetness from dripping down your leg.

You hissed through your teeth as a smile stretched across your face. Toye pressed himself harder against you, the bulge in his pants grinding into your pelvis. You slide one hand away from his wrist gradually finding your way to his belt buckle. His fingers around your neck increased their grip.

You ran your tongue along your lower lip. He looks from your eyes to your mouth as a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth. He suddenly scooped you up from behind your thighs wrapping your legs around his waist and carried you over to the bed, dropping you on your back onto the mattress.

He removed his tie, then with one hand unbuckled his belt all the while staring at you like a starved wolf about to pounce on his prey. You scoot to the edge of the bed and start to unbutton your uniform top. He situated himself between your spread knees at the edge of the bed.

You look up at him through your lashes and smile as you start to work on removing his pants. Your top partially open with your cleavage peaking through, he fisted the front with both hands and yanked the blouse off your shoulders. You wiggle out of the shirt and drop his pants and briefs as he removed his uniform top.

Now you were both ravenous for eachother just yanking off articles of clothing and throwing them carelessly onto the floor. Finally when he slid your panties off, a devilish grin graced his face when he saw how wet you were for him.

He looked at you roguishly as he glided two of his fingers up and down your drenched slit.

“Is this all from me?” His gruff honeyed voice had you melting in his hand.

You nod without breaking eye contact. He crawled over you, caging you in between his brawny arms. As his hardened dick rested on top of your center, he started to grind into you, coating the tip of his cock with your slick between your folds.

You couldn’t help but arch your back, rhythmically moving your hips with his to feel him rub against your clit. Your needy sighs spurred him on, knowing he was making you feel so good.

“Oh my God, Toye-“

“No. No more ‘Toye.’ I want to hear you say my name.” He commanded.

You stare at him.

“Fucking say it.” He ordered.

“Joe…” you breathed as you playfully nip at his lower lip, greedily locking onto his mouth.

He lifted you by the ass and pushed his length through your dripping entrance with one fleeting thrust forward.

You gasp then wrap your legs around his waist, waiting for the ride to begin. Joe unleashed over a year’s worth of pent up rage and frustration from the war onto you, railing into you in almost a deliciously painful pace. He was rough, and aggressive, yet attentive and sensual.

He sat up resting on his heels and angled you closer into him by hugging your thighs against him and driving into you, hitting that spot that had you edging to your finish.

He feels your walls constricting around his cock, and starts to slow his tempo. You look at him with a pout.

All you could manage was a strained, “Why?”

He pulled out and hastily flipped you onto your hands and knees. He reached around your front under your arms once again grabbing your throat with his perfect hand. He pulls you back until your back was flush with his chest.

He guided the back of your head to rest on his shoulder before he turned to your ear.

“You think that fucking Fox Company chump could’ve done this for you?” He hissed.

You feel his grip constricting your neck. You’re so fucked out you can’t help but laugh.

“Fucking answer me, sweetheart. You think that asshole’s got anything on me?” His voice rumbling in your ear like thunder.

You start to pant, your bare chest and peaked nipples heaving from overstimulation and restriction of oxygen.

“No, Joe. Never.” You huffed.

You feel his lips curl into a smile against your jawline. He nipped at your ear.

“That’s right, baby.” He purred before he thrusted you forward on all fours.

He lined his dick up with your slippery pussy and entered you with a sweet push forward until he bottomed out. He plummeted into you, spanking you occasionally while his hips slammed into you.

“My God, Joe.” You moaned pushing back into him so he can get inside you as deep as possible.

“Yeah, scream my name so all Fox Company can hear.”

He had a vice grip on your waist, guiding you back everytime his hips came forward. The slams of his front against your ass grew steadily louder with groans and grunts between the two of you.

His stride began to stagger, and you could feel him pulsate inside you.

“I’m getting close, sweetheart.” You hear his low rugged voice from behind you.

“Me too, Joe.”

“I know, I can feel you squeezing on me. Let go, baby.” He hummed.

He reached around finding your clit and began rubbing hard circles onto the bud.

You close your eyes and focus on the sensation of where his hands were and the throbbing of his cock inside you then hearing his voice roar,

“Come on, baby, let go for me.”

He chased your orgasm until he felt your walls fluttering around his cock. You throw your head back practically howling as ropes of Joe’s cum released over and over again inside you. A guttural grunt left Joe’s lips as he groped your ass to have something to hold onto to steady himself.

Sweat glistened on his chiseled torso while he caught his breath. He snatched the hand towel by the basin next to the bed to clean you up after he pulled out. He plopped onto the bed next to you, pulling you into him to hold you.

You each sigh, content and relaxed in eachother’s afterglow.

“Your little bunny friend is going to be heart broken.” You joke.

Joe chuckled, “Yeah, I have that effect on people.”

You giggled.

“I got my girl right here.” He added.

Joe looked down adoringly at you with your head on his shoulder, sensing his eyes were on you, you look up at him. He gently kissed your lips, then rubbed his nose on the tip of yours.

~~~~~~~

[redheadspark]

Hello! I am a creeper who LOVES your work! I have had this idea for an Az fic, but as I am not a writer, I cannot do it justic!

So its an Azriel x Reader. They both have a thing for each other but obvi neither know about it, but the whole Inner circle know . So the inner circle are having fun and some shenanigans happen, and somebody asks the reader about the person that she likes. Reader gets flustered, Az gets ✨jealous✨ and says screw it and kisses the reader. Im talking the kind of kiss that makes you forget everything and your brain melt. Lots of fluff, some angst because they are silly and maybe some smut at the end? 😎😎😎

Youre incredible!

Happy New Year!

A/N - HOORAY! I am so sorry for writing this BEYOND late, I'm battling a sinus infection and was in no mood to write when I was hurting, but I finally finished it and I hope you like it!

Intertwined

Warnings - Fluff with a some smut towards the end, so 18+ for this one!

“Okay, now that we have the presents out of the way, I think we should move onto a hot topic,”

“And what would that be?”

“A certain person’s love life,” 

You saw several pairs of eyes looking over at you as you were mid-sip with your glass of wine.  It suddenly felt like you were the topic of conversation, much to your dismay as you slowly lowered your wine glass down and stared at the others that were gazing at you.  As if you weren’t in on the joke.  Perhaps you weren’t, and clutching your wine glass a bit too tightly you looked to your right to see Nesta grinning at you.

“Nesta…..what’s going on?” You asked her tentatively as she linked arms with you.

“Nothing at all,” She replied smoothly as she gave you her signature smirk, “We are just inquiring about your personal life since you never tell us, your friends and found family, anything about your love life,”  

Of course, this was not how the night was going to go.  It was the Annual Winter Solstice Party amongst the Inner Circle in Velaris, the second one you have been a part of since you were the newest member of the Inner Circle.  Nesta became fast friends with you when she walked into your little bookstore, striking up a conversation with you about new books that caught her attention.  

You showed her a few titles, and you two have been friends ever since. 

After Nesta came her mate Cassian, the suave and yet kind Commander of the Illyrian Army.  He was dragged in by his mate, amused at the sight of Nesta almost sprinting to the New Arrivals section and he hung back and started a conversation with you.  You liked his attitude, the calm to Nesta’s storm, the sun to her moodiness, and he almost seemed like a lovable younger brother to you.  

Not too long after that, you were surprised to see Nesta again, but she was not alone.  She brought along both the High Lord and the High Lady of Night Court.  It never occurred to you that she was sisters with High Lady Feyre, to which you were beyond entranced to meet her.  Feyre was beyond kind, wishing to find art books and some other novels for her.  High Lord Rhsyand was more curious about the historical novels you had, along with adventurous fiction pieces to help him pass the time.  

You gave him a great recommendation, and your life was forever changed.

Rhysand hired you to help fill his personal library with books from the bookstore, paying you handsomely for your assistance and recommendations.  You were shocked to see the mass sum he placed in your hands, to which you were able to not only get more books for the store but to get a bigger apartment for yourself since you were living in a cramped hole in the hall.  After stocking his library with novels and volumes in every genre that he could ever want, Rhysand kept you in the Inner Circle.  Being alone for some time and having to survive with no one to lean on, it felt surreal to have a new family.  

A support system, and lifelong friends, it overwhelmed your heart tenfold. 

Nesta brought you around the first Winter Solstice party with the Inner Circle, you were wearing a modest yet captivating dress.  You were beyond nervous to meet the rest of her friends, but Nesta reassured you that you were going to mesh well with the group.  So when you and Nesta walked in together and you saw the rest of the guests, you felt so small compared to the rest of the beings there.

Especially with Azriel, the Illyrian Spymaster.

He took your breath away from the moment you saw him perched by the fireplace.  He cool demeanor contrasted with the roaring fire, the brooding stare he had on his face, and even the small licks of shadows that were hovering against his body and his wings that were tucked tight against his backside.  Nesta spoke plenty about him and his duties for Night Court, Being the Spymaster of Rhysand and seeking out information from other courts.  To anyone else, he would be intimidating and almost frightening to gaze at.

But not to you, you weren’t frightened at all.

Nesta introduced you two, walking you over to him and saying your name to him.  He simply stared at you, you seeing the bright hazel eyes he had brightening from the cracking fire as he held out his hand for you to shake.  You took it instantly, feeling the warmth of his hand and the scars that were etched along his skin as well.  

“Pleasure to see you,” He said to you, his voice deep and soothing like a balm against a fresh wound.  It felt it along your own skin, the tremor of his tone and how he was gazing at you with both intrigue and interest.  You couldn’t help but smile, something inside of you told you not to be afraid of him.  No matter that he could be a killer or someone who brings torture.  That’s not what you felt in that moment shaking his hand, and you always relied on your intuition in the past. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you too,” You said to him, and you saw him smile.  It was the most beautiful smile you have ever seen from another being in your life.

Since then, you have been taken by him.  The way he walked into a room and was cool and collected, how he would conduct himself in conversation and with the others in the Inner Circle.  Although you never saw with your own eyes how he would conduct himself in meetings or during his missions, you knew he was someone not to be trifled with.  But then again, anytime you two were in the same room, he showed none of those. 

He was introverted at best, willing to watch from a distance as the rest of the group would joke and chit-chat.  But he was also consistent in his opinions and banter with Rhysand and Cassian, showing the long relationship he has had with them.  You admired it all the more, seeing the love they shared for one another, not to mention the kindness that was laced with his stubbornness and determination.  

Something drew you to him, like a moth to a flame, wishing to discover him more and more as you two became friends over time. He never minded talking with you, wishing to know more about your knowledge of books and history and even coming to your shop every once in awhile to purchase something for himself.  He looked over very book that intrigued him, taking his time with the purchase that he wanted to do.  It showed that he was not going to waste his time in anything he did, he took precision and never jumped to chance.

Another trait that drew you in more with Azriel was his attention to detail.  He could analyze a person for a certain amount of time and get more information about them than anyone else can do.  It was a true gift, one you wish you had since his ability was more advanced.  He knew the precise information to give to Rhysand, the right paints to gift Feyre for her birthday, even the exact number of soldiers to tell Cassian in one of their Illryain training sessions.  It was his way in showing that he cared for the other person, listening to them and picking up and what they would say in passing.

He did that with you one time in the summer, hearing you talk with Mor about a broken window pane at the shop and some creaking floorboards that were on the verge of snapping.  You were mostly venting to her, knowing that you were going to have to fix it yourself since you weren’t going to overpay someone to fix it.  But the next morning, you heard Azriel knocking on your door with some tools in hand.  

“You don’t have to fix it for me, Azriel.  Honestly, I can—“

“It’s not trouble for me.  Better for you to be safe than an injury happening,”

He fixed the floorboards and the window pane within a few hours, you paying him with a homemade lunch and you two perched on the front porch of the bookstore gossiping about Cassian and Nesta’s upcoming wedding.  You hear him laugh from a comment you made, a whole-hearted laugh with his eyes crinkling and his teeth glistening in the sun, making you fall for him harder.

As the months passed, your friendship deepened and your crush on Azriel was still present, but it was placed on the back burner.  It felt like a fever dream for you to be on the same platform as him, only seeing yourself as a bookkeeper and nothing more important than that.  Azriel had power, he had a past of using that power on others to gain knowledge and intelligence.  His cool demeanor and uneasy stature would make others flee and run away, but you felt closer to him than anyone else in the Inner Circle.  Even with Nesta, who would tease you about how you two would be perfect together.  But of course, you would push those possibilities and dreams away with a wave of your hand.

“I don’t think he would be interested in someone like me,”

“Like who?!  Someone kind, intelligent, and beautiful from the inside out?  I think he would, and he would be a fool to think otherwise,”

Leave it to Nesta to build you up when you feel low.

This led you to this night, a snowstorm roaring outside the Townhouse while you were all sitting together in one of the casual sitting rooms.  With all eyes on you, you were still looking at the wine glass in hand as you were now the center of conversation.

“My love life is…..complicated to say the least,” you said aloud to the group, all of whom were simply smiling as you spoke again, “I am interested in someone, but nothing past that,”

“Oh, do tell!” Elaine said in glee as she was perched on a loveseat with her Mate, Lucien.  Feyre and Rhsyand too seemed interested, wrapped in each other’s arms while Cassian was grinning widely from his perch in an armchair.  You didn’t see Azriel, who was over on the other side of the room leaning against the wall, clutching his whiskey glass in a death grip as his hazel eyes were drilling into your own orbs.

“I doubt she wants to talk about it in a room filled with gossipers,” Cassian joked as Nesta glared at her mate.

“As if any of this will leave the Townhouse,” Feyre countered with him, though she gave you a knowing look, “You don’t need to tell us if you don’t want to.  I know how secretive you are,”

“Yes, she does!” Nesta said with a smirk as she clinked her wine glass with yours, “I know you far too well, and you are in need of some love in your life.  So tell us, what is he like?”

“Or she,” Rhysand hummed, though you rolled your eyes, “I’m only leaving it open, who are we to judge?”

“It is a male,” you corrected, seeing some smiles all around as you blushed.  Once again, without you knowing it, Azriel was standing so still as he was drinking in this information of you being smitten by someone else.  It was making his cool demeanor almost snap.  You had no idea that he was fuming inside, the thought of another capturing your heart and making you feel loved and adored, the notion that another could take you away from him and leave him high and cry.  

He was using all of his willpower to not stalk across the room to claim you as his, having months of practice in him pining over you and wishing you to be his.  

He found you infectious to his soul, whether it was your laugh or your smile that made your freckles pop and your face light up in joy.  He would find reasons to visit you at your little shop, just to talk to you for minutes at a time because it would fill up his soul with hope and love he missed out on for years.  Azriel thought of you as beautiful in both image and in heart, a shining ray of light in his dark world.  Yet he knew deep down he had to be careful, letting in people who were close to him would automatically link them to his dangerous life and his dangerous job.  The last thing he would ever want is to bring potential danger to someone he loved.  

It would kill him to bring you harm, the one person he would face danger for.

“All I will say is that this male is someone I feel will not wish to be with someone like me,” You said to the group with a shrug, Nesta rolling her eyes as Elaine looked at you almost in remorse.

“You speak so low of yourself!  You are far too beautiful and intelligent for any male to pass on,” Feyre reasoned with you as she smiled sweetly at you, “That male is a fool to pass you by,”

“You are a catch,” Cassian agreed, then throwing up his hands in defense, “And I say that as a friend!”

“And I agree with my mate,” Nesta said to you, “I find males who cannot make up their minds on what they want to be fools,”

“Babe,” Cassian sighed as she gave him a knowing look.

“You are no longer a fool, sweetheart,” She said to him as she winked at him before looking back at you, “Your heart is far too sweet and far too kind for any male, no matter how they are, to simply cast by.”

Perhaps it was the one thing that Azriel needed to hear, the one phrase that made him throw out the rational side that he was trying to hold onto.  The thought of some other male casting her side, or using her as a pawn in their game, it made his blood boil.  The affection he felt for you over the year grew day after day, and it got to the point of it coming to a head at any moment.  No matter the scenarios he played in his head in how he would ask you to dinner or to an outing in the park, nor the talks he confided in with Cassian in how he wished to talk to you about his affections for you.  All of that was out of the window.

He had to act, and he did just that.  

He moved before he could stop his feet, walking across the room with his eyes on you like you were a target for his mission.  Everyone was floored by how fast he was moving, you were almost spooked by the way he walked swiftly and his shadows were attempting to catch up to him.  He took your hand in his own, making you stand up from your spot on the loveseat and look at him with shock and worry.

“Azriel? What is—“ you were about to ask him.  But he instantly silenced you, reaching up to frame your jaw in his hand as he kissed you.

Nothing else mattered, everything ceased to exist, and you felt your heart bursting.

His lips, soft and yet firm in how he was kissing you, ingested a fire in you as you were still frozen in your spot and in his embrace.  The thoughts and daydreams of kissing Azriel were all out the window since this was real, breathing in his cologne and the scent that was etched on his skin and feeling his body temperature mingle with yours.  The way he kissed you was both gentle and possessive, maybe he was claiming you as his and at the same time wishing to show his affection to you.  Either way, you were filled with love with that simple kiss, filled to the point of almost overflowing, and then some.  

Before he could pull away, thinking he made a huge mistake in kissing you in front of all of your closest friends in such a brave declaration, you kissed him back.  He heard the others intake a short breath from the gesture, your fingers reaching up to touch the front of his shirt to feel his rapid heartbeat that was threatening to burst out of his body. His mind was on overdrive, not believing what was occurring.  You kissed him, and the gentle kiss against his lips unleashed a new sensation deep within him that he never felt for another.  Affection, protection, possession, and most importantly love.

He loved you.  Cauldron he loved you. 

It didn’t occur to either you or Azriel that the rest of the room was watching on bated breath, both in shock and in pure happiness as you two finally pulled away from one another and gazed at each other.  The realization of what happened sunk in, but in the best way possible.  There was a glow about the two of you, almost like a new shade of emotion over the pair of you like a blanket to shield you from the rest of the world.  Azriel smiled, in which you grinned in return as he laced your fingers together and gulped.

“Come with me,” he said, you nodding without you realizing it.  He then moved, having you follow him like a puppy as he led the two of you out towards the hallway.  Yet he looked over his shoulder at the rest of the group, all of whom were still looking in shock at what happened.

“Thank you for the party,” he said abruptly, and then you two walked into the darkness of the hallway before the faint sound of him winnowing was heard.  You both were gone in a second.

Silence was heard in the room, everyone looking at each other.  The only sound heard was the fireplace, but it only took a few solid seconds before Cassian gulped down the last of his whiskey and placed the glass on the mantelpiece.

“Fucking finally!” He said in a sigh of relief, the others grinning as Nesta shot up and glided over to her mate, “I swear to the Cauldron, It took too damn long for them to get together!”

“Aren’t they simply lovely together?” Elaine asked with a sweet grin to Lucien, who nodded at his mate in agreement, “They both deserve to be happy together!”

“It was getting them both to realize it that took too long,” Rhsyand snorted as Feyre slapped his arm, “What?  It’s true!  Cass and I had a running bet on how long it would take for them to get together.  Which reminds me, you owe me some money, Cassian!”

“Damnit,” Cassian groaned with a rub of his eyes with his fingers as Nesta grinned in victory.

“Well I am glad they finally realize they are meant to be together,” Nesta said with her smile, “Those two are meant to be.  I know they are.”

“To the lovebirds!” Rhsyand announced, raising his glass in the air as the others did as well, “And a life filled with happiness and love for the two souls who deserve it the most out of all of us!”

The group raised their glasses, knowing deep down, that your future together was bright and full.

“Here, for you,”

“Thank you,”  

You sat up in the bed, your bare body covered by the bedsheets as Azriel fell back into bed with you with no care of covering himself up while he handed you a plate filled with some fruits and crackers.  You were blushing like mad as he played kisses along your skin and shoulders, you giggled as he wrapped you in his arms.

“Are you going to let me eat?” You asked in a teasing tone, though he passed and stared lovingly at you.  Just being there, bare and glowing in both bliss and happiness after spending a few hours in pure pleasure and euphoria, it was all life-changing for him.  Even with his hair askew and a thin sheet of sweat on him, there was no sign of fatigue on him.  He was far too happy, too energetic even, to have another moment without you.  After a year of pinning over you and seeing you from an arms’ reach, he would never let you go from now on.  

“Are you willing to share?” He teased back, you rolling your eyes as he fed him a few grapes.  You loved seeing this side of Azriel, the playful and gentle side that you knew was buried deep down under his tough exterior.  But Hours before when he winnowed you both to the House of Wind, pressing you against the wall and kissing you deeply, you were unraveling with no sign of resistance.  If the kiss in front of the Inner Circle erased your mind, the kisses he gave you when you two alone erased your sanity.  He was possessive with his arms around you, his kisses along your neck, and your pulse racing.  

No longer were you two just friends, you both knew it.

He flipped your world upside down, it was no simple fuck.  No, with Azriel, he was precise in how he brought you pleasure and made you moan his name like a prayer.  From the way he undressed your and perched you on the edge of an ottoman at the foot of the bed, to the way he licked your folds with his wicked tongue and made you watch his lips and tongue get your beyond wet just for him.  You were on fire, chanting his name and tugging at his locks as his hands were bracing your hips to keep you still, even with your thighs perched on his shoulders and shaking in pleasure and madness.  

There was no daydream that you ever had that would compare to the real thing, even when you came in a shout and Azriel grinned against your now sensitive pussy before he ascended to stare at your blissed-out face. He kissed you softly, you trembling against his lips while your orgasm was slowly coming down, but you moaned once again as his fingers sunk into you.  It made you realize he was simply warming up, and the night was just getting started.

That night was the best night of your life.

“How long have you liked me?” You asked as he placed the now empty plate away and had you snuggle in his arms, you half on top of him as his fingers were tracing your bare back and along your spine.  He grinned at you, scanning your eyes and your messy hair.

“Since the moment Nesta introduced you to me,” He answered, you blushing like mad as he kissed the tip of your nose, “I knew then, even in that smile on yours, that there would be no one else for me in this life.”

“From a smile?” You asked.

“You can tell a lot from a person in how they smile,” Azriel explained, “Those who force a smile are not to be trusted.  But those who have a real smile, a kind smile, are those who can depend on in hard times.  Your smile entranced me, and I never wished to see another smile since it would never compare to yours,”

“Well, for me, it was when we shook hands,” You explained, reaching over to take his spare hand and lace your fingers together gently and look at the scars along his skin, “Your hands were warm, and you were gentle in shaking my hand.  I knew then, because of the warmth I sensed in you and the goodness you had in you.”

Even bathed in the moonlight, bare with no abandon, Azriel’s smile he gave to you was beyond beautiful.  Your love for him was shining bright no sign of darkness or blemish, it was making everything else in your life seem dull in comparison.  He made you feel loved, not just with the physical pleasure he gave you but the emotional too.  You knew he adored you, loved you beyond reason, and you were feeling just the same.  He would walk through fire for you, experience pain so you wouldn’t, and there would be no hesitance when It came to bringing you love.  All because you loved him for who he was and brought him pure joy.    

And as he sat up with you in his lap, guiding his cock into you to make you cling onto him and moan in bliss, you both knew there was no going back as your lives were forever intertwined.  

The End

[moviestarmartini]

Since you are open to writing about Brahim 🤭imagine Jude being a third wheel and always hanging out with you and Brahim, like the guy is never at his house 😭😭

three, that's the magic number! - brahim diaz x reader x platonic!jude bellingham

warnings: none, pure fluff. headcanon/bulleted format.

OKAY HE WOULD LOWKEY BE LIKE “i want what these bitches have” BUT LET ME NOT GET AHEAD OF MYSELF HERE 

now playing... the magic number by de la soul

you’d heard of Jude but came to meet him in a dinner Brahim had organized with him and Arda. 

you’d noticed the way Jude stared in awe at the two of you whenever you interacted, even if it was just Brahim taking short glances, his face softer than ever. 

it started off with Brahim asking if you could pick up Jude on the way to training, not wanting the younger man to take a taxi there again 

the way the three of you could start a conversation and flow felt nice, singing along to some songs that Brahim had queued.

Jude often asked what the songs said, or what a word either of you said meant. you found endearing how he was really trying with spanish

Jude then started getting dropped off at your shared place to be driven to training by you two— getting all pouty when Brahim was the one driving, not you.  

“Is this what abandonment feels like?” He would joke, but still wished you the best on your way out to work. 

then it was the fact Brahim took it upon himself to teach the englishman the do’s-and-don’ts of Madrid. 

you took Jude everywhere, all your favorite spots, doing your best to avoid large crowds to not draw attention to yourselves. 

“You’re in luck, she’s the best tour guide ever.” Brahim bragged about you to Jude, as he did to anyone who would listen.  

he was just so so proud of every you know and done, he can’t help himself. 

you knew a lot about the historic places you saw even when just passing by car, telling Jude every detail and fun fact you had in store in that brain of yours.

he listened attentively, also noticing the way Brahim would look at you with the tiniest smile behind his lips.  

“See? I’ve got myself the smartest cookie. Eres la más inteligente de todo España, mi habibati.” Brahim would coo after you were done explaining, reaching to cup your face and stroke your cheekbone with his thumb as you nodded slowly, cheeks flushed. 

soon, however, candid pictures of you hanging out were released to the public. 

the reactions varied from people adoring the pair you and Brahim made and how tall Jude was compared to the two of you but always followed behind as if he was your child. 

by that point he’d already taken your flat as his favorite hang out spot, more often than not you found Jude playing FIFA or board games with Brahim after coming home from work.

“Get a room.” Jude would complain at your cuddling and kissing, Brahim brushing the spiky facial hair against the length of your neck only to hear the giggles that made his chest swell 

“Jude, you’re the one who’s in our room.” you deadpanned with a yawn, the two men bursting down in laughter. 

but at the end of the day, he felt like another member of your family— just like abi Arda did, but that’s a story for another day. 

and you were so glad Brahim could reintegrate back into the team flawlessly. 

at one of the games you sat in the VIP balcony at the bernabeú with a good chunk of the players— all out on injuries, including Jude, who went straight to you as he noticed you walk in. 

you two commented on the game as if that was your actual job, feeling every second and emotion. 

you also noticed how Jude looked at you every time you celebrated Brahim doing things right— it could only be described as admiration.

 Jude had to leave when the game was itching its end, having to stand with the other injured players, leaving you with Denise.  

you introduced yourself quickly, and you noticed how she perked up. 

“Lovely to meet you, but can you give me my son back? Or do I need to pull out some adoption papers for you two?” she laughed, soon telling you how much he talked about both you and Brahim, and the relationship you shared. 

you couldn't help but laugh, "Really? I think I have a pen in my purse, hold on–" you joked, but feeling proud... why? because everyone could clearly see how much you loved Brahim.

and they could also see, clear as day, how much he loved you too.