#i was supposed to post this last year but I'm way too slow

[marchtooctober]

Long time no fic!

This one's long overdue. Sorry 🙏 💦

But as for the fic itself, I'm not sorry and you're welcome.

▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎

For Two

"I did it for my mission. For my country and the peace of people. What you did wasn't so different from what I did." He firmly said and swallowed hard.

"I know. Maybe I did worse." Thorn Princess said in a shaky voice, stifling her sobs.

Instead of bickering, they should be escaping to a safer ground. If only there's a place to run off to. There was nowhere to run and this moment between them is the only chance for demanding answers to the questions that they've been keeping for so long. She continued.

"Did you love me at all?"

Twilight held his aching side that took a gunshot from the enemy. It reached deep and he is losing blood. Though his strength is fading, he held up his hand and reached out for her face. He wanted to do so much more. To hold her tight and say he'll set things right. But he knows that there's no turning back. So Twilight took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak.

"Do you hate me?"

Thorn Princess was taken aback. Her tears trickled down from her face to Twilight's hand.

Silence ensued between them, both unwilling to answer. Twilight wanted to tell her everything but all he could do was stare right out the window of the dangerous place they're in. An amusement park can be seen. The faint colorful lights are the only thing giving life to his eyes. It was one of the rare moments, him wishing that he was just an ordinary person with the right to live a life. As his mind continued to wander, he thought out loud.

"Perhaps, in another world, we're up high riding the ferris wheel over there." He said.

"What are you saying? You're not making sense." Thorn Princess replied, still sobbing.

Thorn Princess attempted to raise him up. But she was fairly beaten too and only left with enough strength to save herself. Twilight shook his head, stopping her.

"If I was just a plain clumsy guy, would you love me?" He asked.

"I... Why are you asking me that? You should stop talking. You're bleeding too much. We need to get out of here."

"Imagine, we're just normal people. You're still working at the city hall and... and I'm a real doctor. Who knows? We might be lovers or maybe just friends... It's fine either way."

"Please... Loid..."

"You're still calling me that despite everything?"

Twilight could not keep himself from chuckling. He could feel his time running out.

"If we ever meet again, I hope I can finally be someone worthy for you." He said as his own tears flow.

Thorn Princess held his hand close to her.

The both of them are desperately wishing for the time to stop and let them be just a little bit longer. Just when they thought they were granted that very wish, a presence draws closer until it finally comes into vision as an armed enemy. Reflexes took over Thorn Princess and threw the last dagger. Severely exhausted, she wasn't able to hit deep to kill off the enemy with a single move. In frustration, she pulled out one of her earrings. The wounded figure was quick enough to draw out a gun and aim for them.

"Yor!"

With every last of his strength, Twilight shielded Thorn Princess who finally killed the enemy with a hit to the head. Not far off, more footsteps echoed.

"Loid? Loid? No..."

She held Twilight in her arms. Tears streamed down once more. Twilight smiled softly.

"Let's ride the ferris wheel next time, okay? Now go..." He said and weakly took out a grenade from his pocket.

One dies, the other must live on.

With his other hand, he gave his WISE pin to Thorn Princess.

"I love you."

Thorn Princess knew that it's over for the both of them. There was nothing left to do but give a kiss of farewell. She took the pin and jumped over the window. Not long after came the explosion, killing Twilight and his unfulfilled dream.

Just as the sun sets on his life, it rises for another person.

*blaring alarm

Beneath the blankets emerged a man with weary eyes and aching back. He groaned at what reminded him of another tiring day ahead. His hand reached out to turn off the alarm clock by swinging his arm to throw it out. But he realized shortly the silly thing he was about to do and laughed at himself.

"Now, why would I throw this? It's not a grenade..."

But aside from the hazy state of mind, there is a weirdly exceuciating feeling in his chest. He felt like he just woke up from a nightmare he could not remember. But he shook off the absurd thoughts.

A normal guy who lives in a suburban apartment, doing the same routine before heading to his work at the hospital as a doctor. Loid Forger.

If there's anything that lets him get through his mundane life, it's the interactions with his neighbor.

It's been about three years since he moved to the complex which is conveniently near to his work. Three years since he met her.

"Good morning, Loid." Came from outside as soon as the elevator opened.

Right in front of him is Yor Briar, standing against the light, making her glow like a morning angel. The neighbor who always seem to come around whenever Loid is in some kind of pinch. At first he didn't think much of it but by and by, he started to enjoy her company. She'd chance upon him when he's late for work or when something trivial stresses him out. Loid would always ease more whenever Yor helps him.

"Looks like you're running late today."

"Well... yeah. It's the second time this month." Loid replied as he got off the elevator and approached her.

"I guess you overslept this time. Why don't you get a new alarm?" Yor suggested.

"No. Actually, I..."

Loid couldn't tell that the real reason was that he was still trying to remember the dream he just had. He spent too much time thinking that he spent almost thirty minutes eating breakfast. He changed the topic to keep it off his mind.

"Maybe... How about you? You haven't left yet. Having a day off?" He asked.

"No. Today's a half day so I'll be at the city hall in the afternoon. I just came back from the courier and dropped something for Yuri."

"Your brother must miss you very much."

"There's still a month before he takes a leave. He'll stay over for a week so I hope you'd come over and chat with him again." Yor said.

Loid isn't sure if he should accept the offer at all. Is it okay for Yor to invite an outsider like him? Besides, Loid knows that Yuri hates his guts.

"I don't think he'd be fine with that. He wants to spend time with you not me." Loid jokingly said.

"I'm sorry about my brother. He's just shy, not a bad kid at all. I'm sure he'll warm up to you." Yor replied.

"I hope he does."

Loid wondered if they are close enough for such a connection to be established.

"Well then, I'll be going up. Take care! Have a nice day!"

"You too. Bye."

Yor waved at him before lining up for the elevator. Loid smiled contentedly. Yor's words work like spell. In an instant, he felt better despite the fact that he's on the rush and late for a meeting. He thought only of her as he took the cab ride.

It's been three years but still, Loid does not know what is their relationship. Neighbors? That's given. Are they friends? More or less. He doesn't want to ask Yor about it because he thought it's rude. Weirdly enough, they get to know more of each other through odd circumstances. Like when Loid would chance upon Yor's drunk state or when they happen to be going home together. Neighbors or friends, he knows that she is much more than that.

In short, Loid Forger likes Yor Briar a great deal.

"Doctor Forger! Thanks for helping me at the meeting. I knew you're such a competent one. I'll be counting on you again next time." Said the director to him.

"Of course, Sir." Replied Loid, though he wished not to be tapped again for troublesome favors.

For the rest of the day, it was just as usual. Running consultations and diagnosis, occasional chatting with colleagues, and running menial tasks for his superiors. And as hours fly by, he's getting more and more elated and hoped to run into Yor after he's done for the day.

As soon as he stepped out the hospital, he walked hastily by the main road for a better chance on meeting Yor in front of the station. But she was not around when Loid finally passed by. Unsurprised but disappointed, he continued on his way. He was doing so mindlessly that he ended up taking a detour towards direction of town square where sparkling lights are peeking.

"Wha- How did I end up here?"

Noise of excitement and fun invaded his ears. It was unusually more crowded than usual. Taking a proper look around him, there's an ongoing bazaar, the one talked about by the nurses a while ago. Since he was already there, he decided to roam.

He saw unique items and imported products left and right. It took him a few minutes till he had his fill and headed for the exit. But suddenly, right around the corner, a familiar whiff of rosy scent alerted Loid. He hurriedly took the turn and saw Yor walking along the row of pop-up stalls.

"Yor?" He called out.

"Loid? You're shopping too?"

"No, I just stopped by. I heard from my workmates. Today's the last day, right? Then the bazaar will move again somewhere else."

"We ended early so I took my time to shop."

"What did you buy?" Loid asked.

"Oh, I bought... food and some housewares. I also bought a succulent plant. I think it will look good by the window." Yor said contentedly.

"That's nice. Are you still shopping around?" Loid asked.

"No. This is the last one. Just a bunch of kitchen knives."

The stall owner handed out the purchase. Loid carried Yor's shopped items.

"Just a second madame." Said the owner, dug his hands in a drawer and pulled out a ticket.

"Ticket for the ferris wheel."

"What is this for, Sir?" Asked Yor, a bit surprised.

"For buying my craft. Each item's got a freebie. Crocheted towels for cheap items, tickets for pricey ones. I ran out of cafe coupons so I'm giving you that."

"Oh... Thank you, sir."

"But you gotta use it right now because the ticket expires today. Actually, take this too. It's the last ticket. Ride it with your boyfriend if you're both fine with heights."

"No! He's not my..."

Yor and Loid exchanged glances, a bit warm in the cheeks despite the chilly air. They were rather speechless when they walked away. It took a while before silence was finally broken by Yor.

"So... How about we use these? It will be a waste if we don't ride the ferris wheel."

Loid laughed awkwardly and nodded.

"Good point. And besides, it's free." He added.

They walked a little bit further until the line for the ride is within sight.

"Actually, it's fine. You might want to ride with one of your friends instead." Loid suddenly said.

"What? Wait!"

"I won't go with you."

"Come now, Loid. You can't share a ride with me? Don't say you're actually afraid of heights?" Yor asked.

"N-No! It's not that. Fine. I'll ride with you."

They are getting nearer and nearer the front. Loid knows that now is not the time to chicken out. Being alone with Yor while high up above is already beyond his expectations. This is not the same as the usual elevator ride. What more could he ask for?

"Please watch your steps, thank you." Said the employee, letting them in.

The door closed and the two of them sat in silence. Although Loid told himself to calm down, his heart wouldn't. It's beating crazier than ever.

"Look! We're rising! I can almost see the main road."

"Right, just a little longer we might get to see the rest of the town."

Opposite him, Yor leaned and looked outside. But Loid could not care less about the scenic view. He tried to strain his eyes away but all he could see is the one in front of him. And as the gentle rays filled the space, it kindled warm fuzzy feelings in Loid. And in his eyes, Yor glows while everything else blurs. Time halts, that moment becomes theirs alone, as if the cabin itself confines them away from the rest of the world.

Higher they rose, taking Loid's breath away until he could no longer bear the tugging in his chest. Along with the breath of relief comes along a string of words he never knew he'd say.

"I like you."

Time flowed again. Yor slowly turned her head, giving him a confused look. Loid can never take back this sudden confession and so he continued charging head on.

"I like you since long before I can remember. When I first moved in, I thought you were just the usual... nosy neighbor and... I used to be upset when I leave a bad impression on you. But believe me, I enjoy your company. And even though you hit me when you're drunk, it's fun listening to your ramblings. I don't mind if you hit me a hundred times."

"Hey! Why would I?"

Loid took deep breaths. He was fidgety and adjusted his scarf over and over. His eyes were everywhere except on Yor.

"But how do I put it? There's nothing really great about me... That's why I'm holding back. I can't just chase after you and scare you."

Loid then casted his eyes down. He was breathing heavily.

"This is so unlikely of me, don't you think? Telling you my feelings without warning. I- I'm very sorry... This is so embarrassing."

Loid doesn't know how he was able to say those words at all. Was it courage? Confidence? No. A plain and clumsy guy like him never had those. He felt like he's suddenly possessed by something, forcing him to shoulder someone else's hope and live that person's dream.

As if words were not enough, Loid kneeled on one knee and took Yor's hand in his. He swallowed hard and stared right into Yor's eyes that reflects the past and their possible future together.

"But even so, everything I said is true."

"Loid..."

"I've never been this sure. And I know it's a selfish wish but I want to prove myself to you. I'll wait until you accept me, reject me. I want to hear it from you."

Loid looked down once again, overwhelmed by his own emotions. But judgement is yet to pass.

Acceptance or Rejection? His heart is at Yor's mercy.

He dared to look up and saw Yor smiling gently at him.

"You caught me off-guard." She said.

"I'm very sorry! I promise I'll wait! I'm not forcing you." Replied Loid in a panic.

"I like you too."

Loid was stunned.

"What?" Was all he could say.

Yor gave her an answer too strong to be doubted. Yor's hands reached out for Loid's face. She dived down and let her lips land softly on his.

"I like you for many reasons, if you only knew. We're already this far. I don't want to keep you hanging like a dying man."

"I'm not complaining."

Loid is far from dying. He is alive and drunk with blissfulness. So happy that Loid can't help but kiss Yor's hands and lips. Wanting to make sure that it's not a dream.

He felt like it's too good to be true and realized how the free tickets were actually worth so much more. As if someone paid a hefty price for them. But either way, Loid will treasure this life-changing ride for always.

▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎•▪︎

Lol obviously this is inspired by that ferris wheel scene from the movie. Ughhh i wish it comes to my country real quick huhu

[pepperyduck]

growing old with kento nanami

word count: 2.8k

warnings: post-shibuya arc, descriptions of: surgery, recovery processes, depression, insomnia, trauma, therapy, coping mechanisms; pregnancy, marriage, crying. (18+ mdni!)

notes: this WILL have a part 2 and maybe 3! it will be very long so i'm splitting it up. even though the warnings seem kind of sad i promise it's a happy story :)

part 2 | masterlist

“marry me.”

proposing to you was nanami’s first conscious thought after being in a coma for 5 days after shibuya. you were reading a book, peacefully keeping him company in his hospital room, not even noticing he was awake. your eyes fluttered up from your book, back down, and then up again.

“marry me, please,” he repeated. you stayed silent for a moment, eyes widening and mouth dropping. he wasn’t supposed to wake up.

“kento, oh my god,” you yelped, dropping your book and rushing to the hospital bed to look at him. his eyes were open, only slightly, and the weakest smile he could bear rested on his lips. you gently settled your hands on each side of his face, barely hovering over the charred skin. he looked so tired, and yet, he was asking you to marry him.

kento groaned when you hugged him, but you couldn’t stop yourself, you squeezed him gently and with care. a weak hand rested on your back, in between your shoulder blades. he was too weak to repeat his question again. but the only thing on his mind was if you would be his wife.

“yes, yes, i’ll marry you,” you cried into his chest, wetting the fabric of the hospital clothing.

neither you nor nanami himself understood why he proposed to you in that moment. after waking up, his journey to recovery began with slow but steady progress. it took several months of intense rehabilitation and support from both sorcerers and doctors for him to regain his mobility. with their help, he was able to walk and move with a surprising degree of agility, nearly returning to how he was before shibuya. he also had a few cosmetic surgeries, in an attempt to minimize the scarring from all he had been through. within a few months, he was able to see his skin smooth out and hair grow from the side of his head. he wouldn’t look the same, ever; but you didn’t care. you loved kento, as he did you, the fact you were able to celebrate his recovery made you feel like the luckiest woman on the earth.

the loss of his previous strength and abilities weighed heavily on him, casting a shadow over his spirits. yet, amidst the struggles, he found solace in small victories and the support of those around him, your support meaning the most to him. although kento was deeply troubled by the realization that he could no longer pursue his life as a sorcerer, he came to accept it as the best possible outcome given the circumstances. this acceptance marked a pivotal shift in his perspective, allowing him to focus on rebuilding his life in new ways. before he turned in his resignation, he had made sure to recommend ino for a promotion. it was his last wish as a sorcerer.

after the almost year-long recovery process, kento surprised you with a beautiful ring, one of the ones you had talked about before he went on his trip. he proposed again, in the place you first met, this time without weak hands and barely audible words. he was able to find a job, one not nearly as draining as his job from before he returned to jujutsu – and began making plans for your wedding. the planning process didn’t take long, he wanted the wedding to make you happy.

your and kento’s wedding was outright beautiful. it was a stunning venue on a beach, hundreds of guests attended, friends and family alike. kento shed a few tears when he saw you walking down the aisle, clad in the most gorgeous attire he’d ever seen you wear, as his bride. his voice shook as he said his vows – vows that he wrote, almost a good 1,000 words – and he made you a million promises. promises he wouldn’t dare to break, promises to grow old together and live the life you both deserve.

at the reception, you told kento you had a surprise for him, and ran off to go get something from one of your bridesmaids. he was confused at first, because he didn’t need any more surprises, he was the happiest he’d ever been. a newlywed, married to you. but when you came back to the table, two small pieces of paper in your hands, he didn’t think it would be possible to be more joyous.

“we’re going to malaysia, for our honeymoon, kento,” you excitedly told him, showing off the two plane tickets scheduled in a week.

nanami was speechless, a huge smile with teeth plastered across his face, and he gave you the tightest hug he’d ever given anyone.

when the two of you traveled to malaysia, kento was at peace. he had never seen a place so charming and breathtaking, he remained entranced by the culture and landscapes. the two of you spent your time hiking in nature, watching waterfalls and having lovely picnics wherever felt right. kento was so ecstatic, a smile constant on his face as he watched his surroundings with never-ending wonder. he thanked you a million times over.

you had never seen him be so alive. he promised you that one day, he was going to build a house, right on the beach, just for the two of you.

once you were back at your shared apartment, the reality of the past year and a half hit kento like a train. so much time had been spent recovering, constantly in and out of the hospital, planning for your wedding and improving both of your lives, he never had a chance to reflect on the genuine trauma he went through.

you didn’t notice for a while, but kento grew depressed, and restless at the same time. he began to spend his nights awake, insomnia brewing like piping hot tea, staying conscious until the early hours of the morning, doing any exercise or meditation to calm himself down and go to sleep. yet the visuals replayed over, and over, and over. the blood, the curses, the flames, the death. it hadn’t bothered him before, he thought, but he just never gave himself the time to soak it all in. and the depression – the depression was an all-new low for him. when kento wasn’t working, he was at his house, in the bed, while you were working or off running errands. you only noticed his new behavior when you woke up in an empty bed at 4 a.m. one night, 3 months after your honeymoon.

“mm…kento?” you called, footsteps heavily plopping down the hallway towards the bright lights of your kitchen. when you entered the room, you saw kento sprawled out on the floor, knees bent, with sweat rolling down his forehead. stepping over towards him, you kneeled down to look at him, and his head rolled to the side to look at you, too.

kento’s eyes looked so tired, the eyebags you hadn’t seen in years were full-fledged, his eyelids were droopy and exhausted. just by the emotion his eyes conveyed, you could see he was silently suffering, and he had been that way for a while.

“kento, what’s wrong?” you asked, bringing a hand to the side of his face to rub a thumb over his sweat-glistened cheek.

“i don’t…know,” he replied, defeat in his voice, “i can’t sleep. i haven’t slept. i don’t know.”

your husband always had a plan. he always knew everything; he always took care of the unknown and intimidating parts of life. for kento nanami to say “i don’t know” meant something was wrong, seriously wrong.

“sit up,” you softly demanded, gently pulling his shoulders off the floor. you sat on the ground, crossing your legs, and kento mirrored your actions, slumping when he finally sat up. “kento, honey,” you began, taking his hand in yours and resting it on his knee, “what’s going on?”

he was never one to talk about feelings, to talk about emotions felt deep down, because he wasn’t sure how to convey anything that would make him vulnerable. but as he sat in front of you, chest slightly heaving, such a burnt-out expression on his face, you knew there was something he wasn’t saying, but that something needed to be said.

“i can’t…” kento muttered, stopping himself for a second, “i can’t stop thinking.” he finally admitted, causing you to furrow your eyebrows with concern.

“about what, honey?” you sweetly asked, thumb caressing the back of his hand, tenderly rubbing back and forth.

“everything.” he stated, eyes flashing away from you to look at the floor next to him. you knew what he meant, though, but you had never seen him so pained from his work, especially from something that happened so long ago.

“tell me, baby,” you soothed him. you grabbed his other hand, causing him to look back at you pitifully. kento stayed silent for numerous moments, unsure as to what you could handle. but you were his wife, someone he was supposed to be able to confide in.

“so many people…died…” he mumbled, “i almost died. i saw what it looked like, i faced death.” his words began to come out quicker, “i’ve never seen that many people die, not even in shinjuku, and there was so much blood, and gojo almost, he almost-,” kento’s voice began to get shaky and uneven, a crack in his words as tears stung his eyes. “gojo almost died, too, and…i almost died, i saw it,” he repeated, “and yuuji – looked so upset, and takuma got hurt,” he clenched his eyes shut, words still coming out as a single string.

you moved closer, shifting onto your knees and wrapping kento in a comforting embrace. he clung to you immediately, his hands gripping the fabric of your shirt as if trying to anchor himself in reality. his body shook with the intensity of his sobs, each breath coming in ragged gasps. the rawness of his anguish was palpable; his cries were filled with a pain that seemed almost too immense to bear. the image of the carnage replayed in his mind, a relentless cycle that he couldn’t escape. kento’s tears soaked through your shirt, repeating with his incoherent murmurs of horror. his face, once so composed, now twisted in an expression of deep, unrelenting despair.

kento wailed into your chest for hours that night, unable to stop his shuttering and repetition of the same phrases. he only calmed down when the sun began to rise, slowly illuminating the insides of your home. once kento parted his head from your chest, he looked you in the eyes, asking for help without saying a word. you wiped away his tears and grabbed the sides of his face, promising him you will get him anything he needs. kento fell asleep around 7 a.m. that morning, with the help of you running your fingers through his hair, shushing him and telling him it will all be okay.

he believed you. kento nanami put all his faith in you, his wife, to help him fix his problem he hadn’t an idea on how to mend. and so, you did everything in your power to help him. you spent countless hours on research, finding therapists that specialized in helping people like him, and you came across different mechanisms to help him cope. most of all, you continued your duties as a supportive wife, constantly telling him to get up and go to the supermarket, or out to the library. little by little, these smaller things combined together to work out, and kento began to get better. it was a breath of fresh air, as well as a weight lifted off both your and his shoulders, when he began to smile again, and shifted his view of life to a more positive outlook. he was alive, he began to feel alive again.

kento nanami was finally beginning to live the life he desired and deserved, all with you by his side.

a couple of weeks after kento’s 30th birthday, you came rushing into his office, tears of joy — and anxiety — pricked in your eyes. soon as his eyes landed on your seemingly upset expression, he was concerned.

“what’s wrong, dear?” he asked, pushing his chair away from the desk to stand up. you quickly closed the door behind you, leaning against it, and you dug around in your purse to pull out a small plastic baggie. when you tossed them to kento, it only took him a few seconds to realize what you were there to tell him.

“��you’re pregnant?” kento beamed, rushing over to you to wrap his arms around your waist. he quickly lifted you up in the air, grip so tight as if he never wanted to let go, your feet kicked happily.

kento always wanted to have kids, but being a sorcerer, he always thought it was too dangerous. you had some conversations about it after shibuya, and the both of you agreed that if it happened, it happened. and your children would have the best life possible, of course; but the glimmer of hope you had for having kids slowly burnt out over time with both of you increasing in age. in that moment, though, kento had so much hope and pure happiness, just at the thought of growing a little family with you.

the first few months of your pregnancy were hectic. between doctor’s appointments, mixed with morning sickness and fatigue, you thought it would never end. although you were happy to start a family, negative emotions easily overcame you, and kento noticed. he tried his best to be there for you, but his work schedule conflicted with your lives, and he soon realized he needed a change in his life. he needed to change your life and his, because he would be damned if he was going to return to the same boring life as he had before.

using his savings and bonus money from his job, he bought you a house. a real house, with acres of land and space for your family to grow, so much bigger than the previous apartment you shared with him. a house that he owned, a house that would contain all the joy for your future. he made sure it was grand, with a huge kitchen, and multiple bedrooms – not caring if only two of them were filled, or if all of them housed someone. before kento showed you the house, he set up a nursery.

“where are we going?” you inquired for about the 50th time that day. you had been in the car for hours, and all kento would say in return is, “you’ll find out.” nonetheless, you were excited, kento had always given you the best surprises, but you had never driven so far with him.

“we’re here.” kento stated, pulling into an empty concrete driveway big enough to fit 6 cars.

“where are we? did satoru move?” you asked, the huge display of a home proving to be a bit intimidating for you. kento didn’t reply this time, he only scurried out of the car to come and open your door, helping you get out with a kind hand.

you didn’t even understand what was going on until you walked up the front steps, and a few keys jingled in kento’s hands until he found the right one to unlock the door. the door to your new home.

“wait...wait. kento,” you said, standing still as your husband strode inside, “what is this?” the familiar tears of joy rushed to your eyes, and you just stood there with a shocked expression plastered on your face.

“this is our new home, honey,” kento chimed, reaching a hand out again to welcome you inside. you took his hand, albeit a little hesitantly, and stepped inside your house.

“oh, kento,” you blubbered, throwing your arms around his neck, tears beginning to trickle down your face.

you and kento explored the house for hours, marveling at all the space and beauty he bought for you. you thanked him a million times over, crying at each new space you discovered in the house, you felt sheer gratefulness for your husband and all he did for you. and kento, well, he did all of it to thank you, to thank you for never losing hope in him, and to thank you for the joy you’d made him experience. he was so undeniably in love with you, just as he had always been, and he promised himself he was going to do everything in his power to live the life he deserved with you. he was going to live up to every word he made in his vows, every promise he made with you, each and every word he had spoken to you was going to show in your lives.

even from the moment he met you, he knew he was going to spend his life with you.

taglist: @kundere20000000 @missakward123 @cherriee-ee @starlightanyaaa @lagataprrr @hazzelle-kento

let me know if you'd like to be added!

[velvetydream]

꒰ : ☕️ [ Mercilessly ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : You're normally one who enjoys slow and romantic sex, but something deep inside changed after seeing Yunho at Coachella and on tour.

Pairing : Dom! Yunho x Fem! Sub! Reader

Word count : 2.5K Words

Genre : Smut with soft aftercare

Smut Content ➵ Size Kink (Reader is smaller than Yunho), Degradation, Dumbification, Sex Toys, Orgasm Denial, Coming multiple times, Oral (F receiving), Raw Sex (Wrap it up people), Manhandling

a/n : Yunho has me in a chokehold and istg I'll cry so hard when seeing all these hot ass man next year at baricade.

Disclaimer : This is purely fiction and in no way supposed to dispict how Yunho is in real life. Please skip and block if you don't like it.

Yunho was a sweet lover; he was always attentive to your every need. Cooking nice food, giving you a massage after a long day, cuddling you while playing games. In the sheets he was a sweet and loving man, taking care of you with soft touches and featherlight kisses. Despite loving this romantic sex, something recently switched inside of you.

Watching him at Coachella, at the tour, and all those ungodly fan cams and pictures Atiny posted over the last few weeks had you shaking. Not being able to pinpoint exactly what is bothering you, the sex was good, no question, but it left you unsatisfied, not that you didn't reach your peak, no you always did with Yunho, yet deep down, something was missing.

A sigh leaves your lips as your brain moves around ideas of what could be bothering you, not noticing Wooyoung watching you and taking a seat beside you. "What's wrong?" A little surprised, you look up; you hadn't even noticed him sit down beside you; so much in your own head right now. "O-Oh nothing! I'm fine!" It wasn't a good idea to tell Wooyoung about this; he ran his mouth too quickly by accident, but then he was the most open and helpful person for this topic out of the boys. "Oh, come on, you've been looking like a kicked puppy for days and now have been sighing for half an hour." Eyes wide, you look at Wooyoung; was it so obvious?

"Okay fine.." Taking a good look around, you two were the only ones in the dorm right now; some of the others went to shower while your boyfriend and Mingi went to get the food for tonight. "I don't know how to explain, like.. Yunho is an amazing boyfriend, he is attentive, sweet and always takes care of me.. in every aspect if you know what I mean, he is romantic and careful with me and.. since a few weeks I just feel.. unsatisfied? No.. that's the wrong wording something is missing? I don't know.." Your head falls into your hands as you try to speak the words swimming through your mind for days. "Sounds to me like you want to get pounded mercilessly." Choking on air, your head shoots up as you look at Wooyoung terrified. Why did he always have a way of speaking his mind without a second thought? "No, seriously, of course, romantic sex is nice, but a rough man that makes you forget your own name is something else. Try it; maybe it is the thing bothering you; if not, we can try and think of something else!" Wooyoung's talking about this as if that's a duo mission of you both now.

At that moment, Mingi and Yunho stepped through the door with bags of food in their hands. Wooyoung jumps up to take something while calling everyone to come eat; the others from the dorms downstairs just arrive a few minutes later. "Hope it was okay with Wooyoung; I know he can be a handful." Yunho presses a soft kiss to your temple, which makes you blush and nod. Wooyoungs words invading your mind now. Suddenly, you noticed every little filthy detail about Yunho. The way he towers over you, the way his long fingers wrap around his chopsticks, how his thick lips love, the way his pants strain against his thighs so deliciously. Shaking your head, you take a big gulp of your cold drink before shoving noodles into your mouth. Snickering made you look to your left, seeing Wooyoung smirk at you with a raised eyebrow, that fucker.

The evening continued with everyone deciding on playing a few games; Yunho sat beside you as he played Mario Kart against San, Seonghwa, and Jongho, screaming insults at them, which surprisingly made you clench your thighs under the blanket. Watching the way his fingers hit the buttons on the controller, your mind wandering off to filthy places yet again. Looking up to see Yunho bite his lip as he watches the TV intently while hitting the buttons on the controller.

"We should probably head down now, I'm getting tired." Yunho announces to the group making some whine in protest. Taking your hand, Yunho and you bid your goodbyes as he leads you out of the door and to the elevator to head down to his and Yeosangs dorm. "Hope you enjoyed the evening, my love." His hand was resting on the lower of your back now, drawing patterns with his long fingers. "Oh yes! It was fun watching you guys play, I also had a nice chat with Seonghwa and Hongjoong." Being led outside the elevator now and to the door of their dorm. "Really? I'm glad you enjoyed the evening.." He continued talking as he opened the door, letting you in first before following, quickly grabbing your waist to pull you against his chest after the door closed. "..You seemed to especially enjoy watching me, don't think I didn't see you rubbing your legs~" He whispers into your ear, placing a soft kiss against the shell.

"Are you in the mood? Wanna take this to the bedroom?" His touch was again soft, featherlight as if you'd break any second. "Please.." You whisper as you turn around throwing your arms around his neck as Yunho picks you off of the ground, moving you two to his room and locking the door. "You're so cute when you're needy baby.." His lips are attached to your neck already as he lowers you down onto your back, the softness of the bed engulfing you. "Also the dress you wore today is so pretty." Lips and kisses travel up your jaw till he meets your lips, capturing yours in a soft kiss. His hands run softly over your sides and up your thighs, pushing the hem of your dress higher and higher.

Those long sinful fingers soon meet your clothed cunt, as he starts to tease with light touches, watching your face contort in pleasure and small gasps leaving your lips. Yet it wasn't enough, it was too soft, and something was missing, yet you let him do his thing for now, maybe Wooyoung and your brain are wrong, maybe it was just the fact you weren't home the last few times, having sex in a hotel room is something else, it's weird. But as Yunho continued, slipping his fingers into your underwear, swiping his digit over your clit and down to your entrance, before entering and softly pumping it in and out. Moans leave your lips as your hands claw onto his upper arms, but you're still not satisfied; it wasn't enough; the touch was too soft, and it felt too light. "Yuyu.." You gasp out, his eyes meeting your hazed ones.

"I need more.." You whine, hands holding onto his arms tightly, his finger still inside you. "Do you want more fingers?" He asks now, not quite understanding what you're trying to tell him. Shaking your head embarrassed, your cheeky burn a bright hot red. "Do you want my dick?" He asks making you giggle slightly at the vulgar word leaving his mouth. "Yes but.. no.. I.. please fuck me so hard I forget my name, rough Yuyu please, I need you, use me.." You whine, your walls clenching around his fingers while you tell him what you need, a new wave of slickness covering his fingers. "That I didn't expect.. Are you sure? I don't want to hurt you.." Yunho looks at you worried, but you nod your head immediately. You were more than sure. "Please, Yunho, I need you." And suddenly something switched in Yunho.

Tearing down your underwear, he angles his hand differently before shoving two fingers into you, thrusting them in and out mercilessly, while his head leans down to bite your thigh and suck your clit. Moaning your head is thrown back into the soft pillow that smells like Yunho. Everything smells like him, his whole scent and being surrounding you. "F-Fuck Yunho.." Your thighs were trembling, already close to stumbling over the edge from how intense his fingers were, but before you could come, Yunho pulled his fingers away. "Strip." He orders you, making the wetness between your legs intensify; following his order, you strip out of your dress and bra before he pulls you onto his lap, Yunho still fully clothed.

His fingers soon found your hole again and pounded into it; this time, he added another one, the burn just the right mixture of pain and pleasure. Your head was thrown back as Yunho attaches his mouth to your mounds, licking and sucking the stiff nipples. "F-Fuck..!" Your moans were getting louder, and your hole clenched around his fingers, just to get the orgasm ripped away from you again, whining loudly. "Shut up, you wanted to get pounded roughly, make you forget your own name like a cock drunk little slut, like you're only made for my cock as a toy, the perfect hole to satisfy me." Yunho throws your body onto the bed, before turning you around and pulling your ass up. Before you could ask what he was doing, you could hear a familiar buzz coming from behind you, your whole body jerks as you feel the vibrator being placed against your clit, before it moved to your whole and is pushed in, yet it's your favorite one with two spots so your clit and g spot is being stimulated. "Better keep that in and not come until I'm ready."

You could hear him slowly open his belt which soon hit the ground before he moved to his other clothes, he was taking his painfully sweet time, while your body was being pleasured in two spots soon to make you see stars, biting down on your lip, you hoped Yunho would soon be finished and take the vibrator out before you come. And just as you were close to the edge again, he took it out and turned it off. "Good girl you listened so well~" His hand softly rubs over your back in a praising way. "Now you get what a slut deserves. You'll come so many times on my cock till you can only say my name, till the only thought in that dumb little head of yours is my cock pounding this tight little pussy." Grabbing your ass with one hand, he aligns himself and pushes in slowly, letting out a low groan. Moaning loudly as you arch your back, Yunho feels so deep inside of you. Instead of letting you adjust and start slowly, he grabs your hips with both hands and starts thrusting forcefully while pulling your ass against him in sync. This was what you wanted.

Moans leave your lips as your hands grab onto the sheets nothing else close to grab onto. "Look at that tiny cunt taking my cook so well; you're such a good cocksleeve for me, baby." Yunhos low groans pushed you closer to the edge; of course, he felt how close you were to coming. "Come slut, we're far from over." He groans as he snaps his hips against yours harder as you come on his cock, your walls pulsing around him, but he doesn't stop. Instead, his pace gets quicker and harder, your whole body shaking from the thrusts, and soon another orgasm is building up; this time, Yunho comes along with you. Pulling out for a second, you thought he was finished, but he turned you onto your back before entering your cunt again, making your back arch and tears swell in your eyes.

"Aw baby, no need to cry, I'll just make your wish come true." He whispers into your ear before snapping his hips against yours, his dick moving deep inside of your cunt; your head is thrown back as Yunho is back to attach his mouth to your mounds. He seems to be enjoying this just as much. Thrusting into you ruthlessly, his hips not slowing down once, that must be all the stamina from practice; that man could go for hours without a problem. "Y-Yunho.." Mouth slack as your eyes stare at the ceiling; another high is approaching; your body is already so sensitive from coming two times, already feeling your high; he moves his hand down your body and circles your clit quickly, and your eyes are blown wide from that as your orgasm washes over you that instant. Clutching onto his shoulders now, panting as you're coming down again, but Yunho still wasn't finished.

His big hands quickly grab your knees as he pushes your legs up, sliding into your cunt even deeper than before. "F-Fuck! To deep! Oh, holy shit.." Tears were now streaming down your face from the immense pleasure your body was feeling. "You're doing so great; you're so close to being finished." Yunho encourages you. Of course,, you knew the safeword for any case, but you wanted this so badly, so you nod at him. It takes him a second before pounding into you again, his strong hands holding your legs up into a mating press as he hammers his dick into your cunt. You were so close to seeing stars now from this position; he was so deep, sure he almost reached your cervix; his thrusts weren't letting up but rather getting even more intense. "You're doing so great, come on one more, baby~" His voice was low in your ears as his hips only grew in pace, making your eyes roll to the back; this was heaven. Quickly your last high was approaching, and with another thrust, he spilled in you as your fourth orgasm washed over you, your whole body trembling from overstimulation as his lips softly met yours in a kiss.

"Look at you, love, you did so well~" He slowly lets go of your legs before pulling out, mewling at the empty feeling now. "So pretty~" Kissing the tear streaks softly and rubbing them away with his fingers, your head was in the clouds, feeling his cum flow out of your used hole, eyes staring half-lidded at the ceiling. "Let's wash up." Picking you up softly, Yunho carries your bridal style to the bathroom, sitting you down on the toilette to pee before helping you clean up and putting on some fresh underwear and a shirt of his own. "Was it okay? Not too much?" Your mind was slowly calming down again, looking at him with starry eyes full of love. "It was perfect." Hugging his neck as he carries you back to the room, quickly changing the sheets before cuddling close to you on the bed.

"Why didn't you say anything earlier? If you didn't like it how we normally did it." His head looks down at you laying on his chest. Shaking your head in denial now. "I love the way you usually make love to me, but since Coachella and watching you at the tour, I just felt a bigger need; that doesn't mean I didn't like the other times." Smiling up at him, as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. "Glad to hear that; let's sleep now; you must be tired.. and probably not able to walk tomorrow." He giggles as you softly slap his naked chest, shaking your head before lying down again. Arms around each other, as you're lulled to sleep by his calm heartbeat. You definitely have to thank Wooyoung for his input.

[viennakarma]

Something you paid for

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: Two years into the best relationship of your life, you find out that Fernando thinks you don't love him. But it get worse and you realize the whole world think of you as gold digger.

Word count: 5.7k

Tags: female!reader, established relationship, slut shaming, reader is confused, fernando is even more confused, miscommunication, cursing, a bit angsty, hurt/comfort, soft smut (almost not there), happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: I'm honestly not 100% sure about this story, a had another ending planned but I wanted it to be HEA. I don't know. :(

I'm sorry if it's rushed or full of mistakes. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

Find me on Twitter!

It was supposed to be just a pause in your studies. Something quick since your brain was already mushy from studying and writing your research for too long.

So when you picked up your phone, to aimlessly scroll through social media, you didn’t expect to see a new, sudden rush of comments on your instagram page. There were thousands of comments in your last post, calling you a gold digger, and much, much worse. Ever since you started dating Fernando, you had been getting these comments, and in the beginning they were worse but slowed down with time. Now they were on a new high again. Confused more than anything, you went on to try and find out what happened for this to happen all of a sudden. You and Fernando hadn’t gone out together for more than two weeks and you hadn’t been to a race week for a month.

After digging you eventually found out what happened. Deuxmoi posted something that made everyone quickly think it was you.

A lady who’s 12 years younger than her famous Spanish Formula One driver boyfriend, is known for being with him for his money. Many tried to warn him, but it seems like he doesn’t believe or doesn’t care.

Confused, you stared at the post, scrolling through hundreds of nasty, poisonous comments. That wasn’t true. Fernando did give you lots of presents and spoiled you a lot but he did this out of his own want, not because you asked for or demanded it. He was constantly giving you things, especially clothes, shoes and bags, and loved seeing you wearing them. He also gave you an Aston Martin car on your last birthday. He even went as far as getting you a credit card attached to his, for whenever you needed to buy books or go on a shopping spree. You never minded it because you knew he liked it, instead of refusing you were just grateful for his generosity.

You wondered if you should talk about it with him, but deep down you knew Fernando was never one to care for gossip of any kind. And this probably wasn’t even true to begin with, just someone trying to stir the pot. So you just limited the comments in your posts and went on about your day.

A week later you went to the race, it was Silverstone, and the last before summer break. You decided to dress your best, wearing clothes that were pretty and elegant and had been given to you by Fernando.

He always treated you like a princess, he was kind and patient, and always found a way to align your schedules to spend time together. He liked taking you on trips during summer break and to ski trips during winter break. Fernando adored having you around in race weeks, you could see in his face that he was radiant with your presence. And you loved all the gifts and the trips but you especially loved staying home with him, lazing around, making love on the sofa and taking walks hand in hand in his hometown. You loved helping him cook, trying your best to follow his orders and not mess up his recipes. 

You walked into the paddock hand in hand, and you kept him company whenever you could. He would keep you around the most, only letting you go when he had meetings or media duties. During that time, you would go back to his room and do a little more of your research, writing your thesis.

You left his room so you could grab a snack and a coffee at the hospitality, but as you passed by a hallway, you heard someone saying your name in conversation. You stopped, leaning against the wall to hear, with a glance, you saw two mechanics talking.

“Seems like everyone tried to warn him, man. But it’s like he doesn’t mind dating a gold digger.”

“Is she a gold digger, really?”

“Man, she doesn’t do anything! She doesn't even work.”

“Has anyone warned Fernando?”

“Everyone.”

You went back inside his driver’s room, sitting down, completely shocked. So that’s what people thought of you? You knew people on the internet talked about it, but they were strangers so you wouldn’t allow yourself to mind because those people didn’t know you. But the people in the garage? They’ve known you for almost two years now, you were always kind and polite to them, even going as far as bringing them cookies and donuts as thank you for welcoming you so well.

You avoided crying, it would ruin your makeup, and Fernando would notice it very quickly. So you just sat there, numb. Thinking about how everyone believed you were with Fernando because of his money and nothing else.

When Fernando found you again, before he had to go get ready for the race, he noticed you were a little down.

“You should not study so hard on the weekends, princesa.” He muttered, hugging you from behind and leaving a gentle kiss to your neck. Of course, he would think you were just tired.

“You are absolutely right, mi amor,” you smiled a little, turning around so you could hug him properly, “do you have time for a little kiss?”

“Even two,” he joked.

You ended up sitting on his lap, making out like two teenagers, until someone knocked on the door, calling Fernando to go get ready.

“Hey, good luck, yeah?” You said, kissing him one more time then kissing the back of his hand, “I love you.”

You watched the race from the garage, feeling self conscious now that it seemed like everyone thought you were leeching off of Fernando.

In the end, Fernando got P3 which was a great result and you celebrated wildly, proudly watching him get on the podium.

After his post race meetings, you met him in his room.

“Let’s go out to celebrate! Dinner is on me!” You hugged him, mood better now than before.

You and him ended up going out for dinner, at a high end restaurant, dressed to the nines. It was fun, you listened to Fernando talking about the race, then he asked you what you thought about the race.

Before dessert, you went into the bathroom to retouch your makeup and freshen up. When you came back, your tiramisu was already there. You and Fernando shared the dessert, laughing to each other.

When the waitress came, you picked the opportunity.

“Dear, can we get the tab please?”

“It’s already taken care of, Madam.”

Your smile faltered, and you looked at Fernando as she left. He was smiling like he couldn’t hold it in.

“Fernando! I said dinner was on me!”

“Why would I let you pay, princesa?”

“Because you got a podium today! As a celebration!” You whined, upset. Fernando pulled your chair, until you were right beside him and he kissed your cheek.

“I like paying for you, Hermosa,” Fernando stood up, offering you a hand, “come on, you can treat me right in our hotel room, what about that?”

You smiled as he pulled you away, but something still nagged at your brain.

You and Fernando took the private plane back to Madrid after the date, because he had sponsor meetings over the week, and you honestly wanted to sleep in your bed. The trip was quick, and while Fernando took a nap, you tried studying, but your mind kept going back to being called a gold digger.

Deep down, you really wanted to talk to Fernando about it, but you were unsure if he could fix this in any way. What could he do? Make a post on instagram saying hey, my girlfriend isn’t leeching off of me as most you think!? You did live with Fernando, for six months now, and he paid all the bills and the house was his. But he also gave you many many gifts.

When you got home, putting your bags inside the closet, you two just changed into sleepwear, ready to doze off.

Then Fernando opened his bag and grabbed a small box.

“Oh, I had forgotten! Got you a present last week in Austria!”

He handed you the box, and with your heart beating fast, you opened it to a beautiful vintage watch. It was gold, delicate with a beautiful bracelet. There was a lump in your throat as you stared at the piece.

“You didn’t like it? It’s ok, princesa, I’ll get you another one,” he said, with a gentle smile.

“I don’t need another watch, Nando. You gave me this one not even a month ago,” you raised your wrist, showing him the brand new one he gave you.

“I want to give it to you. It doesn’t matter,” he shrugged.

“And I don’t want it,” god, you didn’t want to sound so ungrateful, but how could you tell him that his presents felt like something else now? “You have to stop giving me so many presents,” you said, trying to put into words what you were feeling.

“But that’s how I won you over, why would you refuse my presents now?”

Something about the nonchalance in his voice made you stop, stomach dropping. That’s how I won you over? That’s how he believed your relationship came to be? That’s why he thought you were together?

“What did you say?” You paused, suddenly turning to him, it felt like a punch to the throat, “You- you believe I’m a gold digger? You believe it?”

Fernando walked up to you, putting both hands on your waist, a soft smile gracing his face.

“Amor, you know I don’t mind spending my money on you. Quite the opposite, I love to spoil you.”

You stood there, speechless for a couple of seconds. Then you snapped out of it, pushing his hands off you.

“That’s not what I asked!” Your voice sounded louder, you tried to regain your composure, “people talk a lot, the press too, but you know the truth, right?!”

“I’m a rich man, I like providing you with the luxurious lifestyle you lead. I don’t care that you enjoy my money.”

His words made it so much worse. It made you nauseous, the idea that all this time, he’s been thinking of you as a gold digger, as someone who’s only with him for his money and for what he could provide for you.

“No, Fernando- no!” Your voice wavered, “that’s not true! I love you, you know that right?”

“Why are you so caught up in some silly rumor?

“You know right? You know I love you.” You pressed further waiting for an answer. Hoping against hope that he knew it deep down, that he could acknowledge that you harbored love for him.

“Amor, we have such a great dynamic like this. I don’t need your love, just your loyalty and for you to be my pretty girl.”

He was so calm and reassuring, like he had made peace with the fact that you didn’t love him. Like he wasn’t bothered at all by the fact that you were supposedly a gold digger. His dismissal broke something inside you.

“So you don’t- you don’t believe I love you?”

You felt pathetic and helpless, repeating the same words again and again, hoping and praying for a different answer from Fernando.

“Come on, I’m really tired, can we go to sleep?

“Fernando.”

“I’m going to wait for you in bed,” was all he said, dismissing you completely.

You walked out of the room at the same time he went into the bathroom, you held your head up until you softly closed the door behind you, then finally the tears spilled. You went to the bathroom downstairs, the farthest you could go away from him as the sobs broke from your throat violently.

Sliding down on the floor you wondered if everything was lie. You knew it wasn’t but the fact that he thought you were only there for the money was completely wrong. How long had he been thinking that? How many times had he heard you say “I love you” and thought it wasn’t true? You didn’t even know what to do or what to feel. How could you feel if this whole time while you were pouring your heart into this relationship he thought you were just leeching off of him? How can you love someone so deeply and still live with the fact they think of you as a freeloader? Did he joke with his friends like yeah, she’s a gold digger but at least she’s loyal and fucks me well? 

Your chest hurt and you felt repulsive, making your way to the living room, opening a bottle of his whiskey, not bothering with a glass, just sipping it straight from the bottle.

What could you do now? Talk to him? Tell him you’re not with him for his money? After two whole years accepting his every gift with open arms? After getting a fortune worth of presents? After letting him pay for your books, textbooks, new laptop? After letting him pay for dates, trips, clothes, accessories, shoes and jewelry?

You hated yourself for it now. For taking it just because you thought it was his love language, not because deep down he was trying to keep you, buying your affection.

After spending the whole night awake, nursing a bottle and with only your repulsive thoughts as company, you watched as the sun rose from the big living room window.

It was time to fix it.

Fernando was an early riser almost every morning, so after the sun fully rose in the sky, you went in the kitchen and prepared coffee, to cut the effect of the alcohol. You weren’t drunk, really.

“Morning, bebé! You woke up earlier than me today?” He said, passing you with a kiss to your cheek, then going to the cabinet for a mug. He was so unbothered by your argument last night it was pissing you off.

“I didn’t sleep.”

He paused, looking at your face.

“We should talk.” You readied yourself. Fernando stopped in front of you, attentive. “I’ve been hearing a lot this past week that I’m a gold digger, this has been making me feel some kind of way, and I wanted to address this with you. Last night you were tired and we probably misunderstood each other…”

“Where are you going with this, corazón?” He asked, confused.

“I’m not with you for your money, Fernando. Do you understand that?”

He stood silent, which only made you feel worse.

“I want you to stop giving me presents without a proper occasion. And I want you to stop paying stuff for me. And we’re going to share house bills.” You laid it all out, after thinking hard all throughout the night.

“What are you talking about? No, I don’t accept it.” He frowned, “that wasn’t the deal when we moved in together.”

“Because I didn’t know everything back then. I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you, and I don’t live at your cost like this.”

“No, Y/N.” He took a step back, shaking his head as if you had said the most stupid thing he had ever heard.

“I’m serious, Fernando.”

“No, I’m not negotiating this. I pay for everything. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it will be.”

“I just want to show you that I’m not with you for the money! I’m not what they’re calling me! No more presents, Fernando.”

“You took them.”

“Because I thought you wanted me to have them!”

“I wanted you to have them so you would want to stay with me!”

You gasped, hearing it from his mouth finally. The tears finally started flowing, and you swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady even with the tempest happening inside your chest, staining the beautiful story of your relationship. Well, what you thought was a beautiful relationship.

“You’re just like them, right?” You said, defeated, “you think of me as a gold digging whore. You probably never defended me when they called me that.”

“I gave you all this stuff because I didn’t want you to leave!”

“It was never about the fucking money! And guess what? You lost me anyway!” You marched to the bedroom, Fernando hot on your heels.

“Don’t. Don’t leave.” He said, following you. “I did everything for you to never leave!”

“Everything but loving me! I don’t fucking care!” You unlatched your necklace, putting it on the table, “I don’t care about your money and the jewelry and the clothes and the bags!” You put down your watch and earrings too. Everything he had given you not because he wanted you or loved you, but because he thought they were the price to pay to keep you around.

“Fuck, I love you!” You shouted, feeling desperate and lost, “And all you see me as is something you paid for. A toy you can parade around and look pretty in your arm! You don’t even love me, Fernando. I could write a list about everything I love about you, and none of it would be your stupid money!”

In the closet, you picked a bag, and started putting your clothes inside. Then you noticed how most of them were gifts from him. So you put it back, taking only what you had bought yourself. Fernando stood there, helpless as you packed, putting clothes and a few shoes in a couple of baggage. You also took your study material and laptop, which he had gifted you, but you knew you’d refund him.

“Stop, no,” Fernando tried to stop you as went into the garage, “I do, I love you.”

“You don’t, Fernando. You’re not even sure of that.” You shook your head, putting the bags inside the car. The Aston Martin he had given you, “you have to think. If you really love me as you say, then why do you love me? Because I’m eye candy you can take to galas? Because I’m a good fuck? Because I stand there and look pretty when you have to kiss those old men’s asses?”

You didn’t give him a second, getting in the car and starting the engine.

“This is so messed up, oh my god, how could I let myself believe this for two entire years?” You whispered to yourself, accelerating the car and driving off. 

Through the rear view, you could see Fernando standing there, doing nothing.

You drove and wiped the tears away, breathing in. When you moved in with Fernando, you hadn’t been able to get out of the lease of your flat because you still had a few months on your renting contract. Now it felt like luck that you had a place to stay. Despite getting your doctorate degree, you didn’t have any friends in the city, only a few acquaintances here and there.

You got to the apartament, not bothering to unpack your bags, only leaving it on the bedroom floor. You took your study material and with your phone in hand, you sent Fernando via transfer a total 4000 euros, for what you hoped covered the “laptop and books expenses” as you wrote in the little note.

Then you laid on the bed, crying yourself to sleep.

You woke up and it was getting dark, the sun setting outside. Checking your phone, there were fourteen missed calls from Fernando, and a notification, showing that he had returned the money to you, with additional 30000 euros and only “no” written on the little note. Huffing, you sent the whole amount back and blocked him, so he couldn’t transfer any more money to you.

He still had not realized what was wrong, he was still thinking money was your motivation.

The next few days felt like a haze, you were barely getting any sleep, only eating and writing your research, which ultimately reminded you of Fernando, since it was a study on aerodynamics. You couldn’t lie to yourself, thinking of how many times you stared at the door, waiting and hoping he would understand and come after you.

-

Fernando had work commitments in England, and going back to Madrid, he ended up giving George and his girlfriend a lift. Fernando was visibly not himself as soon as George saw him.

“How’s Y/N doing?” George asked, casually. But from the way Fernando’s face dropped, he could tell something was wrong, “trouble with the missus?” He joked, tried to lighten the mood.

“She- uh, she left.” Fernando muttered.

“What do you mean, she left?” Carmen joined the conversation, “She’s traveling?”

“No- no- I guess we broke up.”

“You guess?!” George’s voice went a little high pitched out of nervousness.

“Fernando, what happened?” Carmen tried to understand. 

Despite not being exactly best friends, you and her were pretty close, always spending time together whenever both of you were on race weekends. The fact that you’re both engaged academics was also a common topic between you.

“You know about the rumors, right?” Fernando started, hesitating.

“What rumors?” George paused.

“That she’s only with me for the money,” Fernando muttered.

“All girlfriends of drivers are accused of that at some point, what’s new?” George pushed.

“I might have implied that I agree with that.”

“Oh, my god,” Carmen covered her mouth, absolutely shocked, “What?”

“Fernando, respectfully- Are you fucking insane?!” George exclaimed, jaw slack, “she looks at you all lovey-dovey, like- like- you’re the only person in the entire earth and you think she’s with you for the money?”

“She would never be like that! She’s so smart and kind,” Carmen added.

“I know- I just- I don’t know! Maybe I let the rumors get to my head!” he ran both hands over his face, exasperated, “And she always lets me pay, and she always takes the presents, I don’t know!”

Then, Fernando explained about how you tried to pay for dinner, and you refused his gift, he told them about the argument and how you wanted to set boundaries about money and gifts.

“She was trying to prove to you that she’s not a freeloader. She was trying to show that the money didn’t matter, and what did you do? You pushed more money on her!” George practically spat the words in Fernando’s face.

“Eres muy estúpido, Fernando. Te lo digo como tu amiga.” Carmen muttered.

“I don’t know what she said but I heard the word stupid, and I agree.” George backed her up, “Go talk to her, apologize and fix it.”

“That is,” Carmen interrupted, face serious, “If you really love her. Otherwise, better let her go find someone who can really love her, it’s what she deserves. Love and happiness.”

Fernando swallowed, his chest constricting with the mere thought of you moving on, of someone else having you in their arms.

Getting back home without you there felt like a thick fog day, cold and empty and he missed you, he missed his sun. He missed you jumping into his arms as soon as he opened the door. He missed the smell of the candles you always lit while studying. He even missed the little mess of textbooks, colorful highlighters and notes scattered around.

Home didn’t feel like home without you.

In the middle of the living room, there were big cardboard boxes, as he opened, he noticed they were full of clothes, shoes and bags he had gifted you throughout your relationship. In a smaller box, all the jewelry he had given you, even anniversary gifts. Even the beauty products he had given you like perfumes, makeup products, and face creams.

You had returned every single thing.

And on the coffee table, your keys to the house and the keys of your Aston Martin DB12.

It seemed like you had returned everything that could tie you to him, everything that made him wrongly call you a gold digger. And it felt painfully like a goodbye.

-

While mixing your homemade coffee, your eyes flicked to the door, then to your phone on the table, facing up. Despite the searing pain in your chest, and the sorrowful hole in your heart, maybe it was time to start to move on. It had been more than a week, if he wanted to come back to you, he would’ve come by now.

You got ready to meet with your advisor, and she brought up a topic that had been common now, about you taking a position as a professor for a couple of Engineering subjects. She said it’d be good for you to work in your area while on the last few months before getting your doctorate degree. You had mostly denied the other times she offered the position, because you wanted more time with Fernando, because you wanted the freedom to fly around the world following him to his races.

Now- now you had more bills to pay and no boyfriend to follow. You also had more free time, a broken heart and a vacant mind. 

“I’m considering the position. I believe it could do me good right now.” You said to her, thoughtful, “can I confirm with you tomorrow?”

After going through the meeting and getting a review on your thesis, you went back to your flat, taking a long shower. You had just dressed in pajamas when the doorbell rang. With long strides, you were faced with Carmen, and not Fernando as you expected.

“From your face I take it he hasn’t spoken to you, yes?” Carmen muttered, seeing the visible disappointment in your face.

“I’m sorry, please come in,” you opened the door wider, forcing a smile. Carmen had a couple of bags that she set on a nearby table.

“He told us what happened, I’m so sorry,” Carmen hugged you and you immediately started crying, since you had no one to talk about the past few days, “I brought chocolates and wine, so we can talk.”

Over chocolates and a bottle of Merlot, you told her everything, starting at the deuxmoi rumor. She looked horrified when you said word for word what had transpired the last time you spoke with him.

“I just don’t understand why he didn’t come talk to you yet,” Carmen added, at some point.

“Because he won’t, at all.” You say with your voice shaky from crying so much the past hour.

“Don’t say that. He loves you.” Carmen said.

“I’m not entirely sure about that,” you shrugged, pretending it didn’t hurt as much as it did, “He’ll find another one, someone who can enjoy his money since it seems like it’s all that matters to him.”

Carmen didn’t say anything to that and you knew she couldn’t argue with the facts. Later, George dropped by to get her, going up to your flat so he could hug you quickly and mutter “I’m sorry”.

With a heavy heart, you slowly rebuild a healthy routine again, doing grocery shopping, cooking meals, going to the gym, studying and everything.

One day, you went back home after going on a shopping spree, and as you got into the hall, Fernando was there, standing in your hall, waiting by the door. You stopped, almost losing the timing to leave the elevator. When you walked closer, he noticed you. Meeting his eyes was different this time, uncertain and a little distant.

“What do you want?” You asked, you hoped your voice would come out harsh, but it only sounded defeated.

“Can we talk?” He asked, and you nodded, opening the door and letting him in.

There was a moment of awkward silence as you put the shopping bags down. After doing that, you crossed your arms and stood against a side table, waiting quietly.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, for not fully believing your love, I guess I was so focused in protecting myself, that I ended up hurting you, and it was never my intention,” Fernando stood just two steps away from you, his eyes holding such pain and fear, that it made you crumble, he didn’t look like he’d been sleeping well, “I love you, I really do. For who you are and nothing else.”

You wanted to give in so bad, you wanted to run into his arms and never let go, but you also didn’t want to suffer again.

“How do you know? You never knew that for two years, how would you know it now?” You shook your head, tears starting to fill your eyes again.

“Because it is hard being without you,” he said, like he was trying to find the right words, “I can’t sleep without you. My life is miserable without you around.”

You only nodded, covering your lips with a hand. You wanted to tell him that you had not gotten proper sleep without him, that your life feels empty, that not knowing about him everyday was painful. But you needed more. You needed something you could hold onto, and maybe, just maybe take another chance at the two of you.

“I- I made a list. Like you said,” his voice failed, and you noticed his hand was shaking a little as he held the paper, “I love you. I love coming home to you every time and feel our house so lived in. I love how you always hug me first thing after I’m back home. I love the silly texts you send me randomly throughout the day talking about your day. I love the selfies with your tongue out too,” that made you two chuckle, and the movement made your tears fall, so you wiped them, staring at him intently, “I love that you’re always the smartest person in any room we’re in. I love that you’re humble, never showing off or being a smartass. I love how cheeky and witty you are. I love that you talk in your sleep. I love that scar in your knee, because it shows you were always a little naughty, even as a kid. I love that there’s always fresh flowers at home. I love that you love kids. I love that you get along well with my family. I love that you-”

He didn’t finish, as you closed the distance and launched yourself at him, hugging him tight. Fernando held you close, pressing you into him, inhaling your perfume, feeling like he was at home again.

“I’m so sorry, princesa. So so sorry. I missed you so much,” he whispered against your cheek, kissing it softly.

“I missed you too, Nando” you said, eyes closed and allowing yourself to just feel him again, “I love you so much.”

You let go, holding his face with both hands, looking into his eyes before kissing him softly. He, on the other hand, held the back of your neck firmly, licking your mouth open, until he had tasted your mouth, leaving you breathless.

“Come back home with me, princesa.”

At that, you took a step back.

“I- I can’t, Nando. I got a new job at the university.”

“What?”

“I thought you weren’t coming back to me,” you muttered, and your words made him wince, “I needed something to hold on to.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he ran a hand over his face, looking embarrassed for taking so long to come after you.

“I believe we should- we should take a step back, rethink a bit about our dynamic,” you told him, hesitant of his reaction.

“Are you unsure about us?” He asked, visibly worried.

“No, no- I love you- I do-” You started, taking his hand, holding it firmly against yours, “I just think we should rewind a bit. Have my own place and pay my own bills, I just don’t want to feel like that again, I need to regain my dignity in this.”

He kept quiet, because he knew deep down you were right. He felt awful about all the misunderstandings, but he knew you probably felt much, much worse. He should just get on his knees and be thankful you still loved him and still wanted him. He’d take all your conditions to get back with him.

And deep down both of you knew it was for the best. Moving out and living alone, working and seeing him occasionally as a boyfriend. 

Holding your face, he kissed you, leaving little pecks on your lips, your cheeks, your chin, your forehead. You closed your eyes, letting him kiss you, and he muttered how much loved you and how much he missed you, kissing down the side of your neck. He walked you inside and let him, feeling his hands quickly peeling your clothes off, leaving a trail of clothes from the living room to your bedroom.

You parted so you could undress him, pulling at his jacket and the t-shirt.

“I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbled into a kiss, laying you down in bed.

You laid on the bed and he hugged him, making space for him between your legs. He held you, touching your nose with his gently.

“I missed you, princesa,” he kissed your cheek, “I promise I’ll do better from now on.”

“I know you will, baby.” You kissed him again, running your hand down his back, “make love to me now.”

He filled you up at once, and you groaned into his mouth, scratching your nails down his back as you cunt welcomed him. As he fucked into you, slowly at first then picking up pace, he muttered how much he loved you and how sorry he was, over and over.

As you cuddled after, quietly enjoying each other’s company. 

“What do we do about all your gifts?”

“Give them away,” you shrugged.

“Can I convince you to take it back?”

“Not if you still want me in your life,” you muttered. He nodded, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

“You know how I know I love you?” Fernando asked, drawing invisible patterns on your back, “there’s an engagement ring in the third drawer of my bedside table.”

You hesitated for a second, but he knew you well. Better than anyone else.

“I know what you said, I just wanted to let you know. I bought it a week after you moved in with me. I know we’re rewinding a little bit for now, but you’ll be my wife one day.”

“And what if I refuse when you propose?” You smirked, and he pulled your leg over his waist.

“You won’t.”

Note: UGH IDK GUYS :(

[vivwritesfics]

Hi vivi it's me👹

(Aka lando's wife ofc)

first of all, CONGRATULATIONS ON 6K !! gosh it feels like somedays ago you had 5k 😭

Anywaysss

Can i please request a lando fic where the reader is going feral with his wins, achievements, posts and what not and it's just slow burn to a point where they both (and us, the ones reading) can't take it anymore?

(It can be smut, fluff, angsty, humorous idm! All upto youu)

Congratulations on 6k once againnn !!!!

HELLO MY DARLING! I'm so sorry this has been in my inbox for so long but I've decided to combine these requests bc... it felt like a good idea I suppose

The first win was Miami. She was there. Of course she was there; Lando took her everywhere.

Her nails had been between her teeth since lap one. And then the safety car came out. An engineer had to hold her to keep her calm.

And then max was just behind him. But that gap kept building. And building. Every time it changed her heart was in her mouth and she wanted to throw up.

She hadn't meant to drop to her knees when Lando crossed the finish line on the last lap. But hearing the words "LANDO NORRIS WINS THE MIAMI GRAND PRIX" had simply been too much for her.

She was squashed against the barrier with the rest of the McLaren team, watching lando on the top step of the podium for the first fucking time.

She wanted to kiss him. When he jumped out of the car, when he pulled off the helmet, just before he jumped into the arms of his team. She would have kissed him then.

His next win was Silverstone, his home Grand Prix. It was a different story on track, a closer fight between him and Max, but Lando ultimately finished first.

It was the same story for her. Being crushed against the barriers by the team as he celebrated. This time Lando ran to her, pulled her into his arms quickly over the barrier. But he didn't kiss her.

She was so fucking happy as she watched him spray the champagne over Max and Catlos, don't get me wrong. But there was a little bit of disappointment settling in her heart.

Fuck, she wanted to kiss him. What an asshole (but, of course, she meant it affectionately).

His final win of the season came in Vegas. The race he'd crashed out of last year. It was rather cathartic, winning a race he'd never even finished before.

She was going to kiss him. Fuck everything else.

Lando climbed out of the car and did his usual celebration to the cheering crowd. And then he made his way over to the team, all of them celebrating together.

And then he made his way to her.

Fuck everything else.

As lando pulled her close, she grabbed his sweaty curls. He didn't have much of a choice as she kissed him. But Lando didn't let his surprise shock him into stillness. No, seconds later, he was kissing her back.

Letting go of his curls, she pulled away. "I've always wanted to do that," she said, just loud enough for him to hear.

"Do it again."

She did it again.

[hypnagogics]

how soon is now? | part one

READ THIS FIRST 🇵🇸

teasers: one. two. series masterlist. next part here!!

♡: hallway crush!ellie x uni student!reader

☆: listen, i know this timeline is kind of ridiculous, but i’ve organized it all best as i can! this is the expanded story based on those first little blurbs introducing the au (reads fine on its own though), and this part specifically was originally going to be one huge fic, but i've ultimately decided to split it up and drop the first part now, because i feel like it ends in a convenient enough space where i can make a separation not so jarring. so that means this will have a direct continuation (how soon is now? 2 ? lol this is so stupid-), and that will be posted soon enough once i finish it! but yes that means after so much waiting, it's finally here for y’all. i literally thought up this silly idea right before i passed out on new years, and never expected y’all to love it so much…but i keep my promises, so here. also love the smiths and felt the title sort of fit. i feel like not too much happens but eh anyway, thank you for waiting, thank you for reading, and please enjoy!

♧:4.6k word count

◇:suggestive but not explicit - horny descriptions and tension, however no smut (for now?….BUT DON'T HOLD ME TO THAT.) no descriptions of reader’s physical appearance, no use of “y/n”, slow-burn construction and loooooads of pining, a lot of build up but stay with me, attempts at occasional foreshadowing, smau elements(text messages lmao), savage starlight is a plot point lol, hallwaycrush!ellie is sort of a mix of loser/modern/university au/dorky-ish ellie I DON'T EVEN KNOW. abby is your bestie, girl what else do i put here- this is just kinda plot, plot, and more plot progression about the whole ordeal, and me indulging my obsession with modern!ellie. (lmk if there's anything to be added!)

“Abbyyyyyyyyyy.” 

You rolled around your lifelong best friend’s bed, babbling her ear off while she studied away at her desk, or tried to at least. This situation has been a daily occurrence for weeks at this point.

Laying on your stomach facing away from her, you could hear her scoff in annoyance. “What?” “Please give me some advice..I don't know what I'm even supposed to do. She's driving me up the wall." This crush was the sole thing occupying your poor mind, so naturally, you had to drown your bestie with your troubles as well. That's what friends do. Abby spun around on her chair to face you, with a clearly fed up expression on her face, and leaning forward, resting her elbows on her knees. 

“Well I don’t fucking know man, I’ve already given you my best advice, and that's either introduce yourself, or suffer.” She said coolly. You sat up and groaned. Wasn't there an easier way? One that didn't involve actually taking initiative and doing something? Maybe, hypothetically, you ace a test, and the professor announces it in front of everyone as he emotionally congratulates his star student, and she bounds over, beaming. Then tearfully confesses her love and admiration for you- hold on, where the fuck is this going?

“Oh come on, you know I can’t do that..” You gulped a burning bundle of anxiety down as you replayed the scenarios with your obsession for the thousandth time that day, the mere crumbs you were forced to fixate on until you saw her next, the first sighting that started this whole fiasco,  and shook your head to clear it and listen to what your best friend had to say. She sighed and rubbed her eyes, slamming her textbook shut and making her way over to sit next to you.

“Listen babe, I love you, but you really gotta get ahold of yourself, alright?” She spoke sternly, looking you straight in the eyes to make sure you understood and absorbed every last word she said. “Listen, here's what you're gonna do. when you pass her in the hall, smile, it's simple but it's a classic, okay? And then you listen to the lecturer as normal, right? I have no idea what you nerds do in astrophysics, but that's besides my point. Make sure to pay attention and not stare only at her like a stalker or something, I cannot stress enough how normal you gotta be. But here's where it gets good, you still with me?” 

You're listening to her for sure, and nod vigorously. Crystal clear. She continues, “Okay you said you sit as far as possible from her? Sheesh, why'd you do that? When the class is over I want you to go over to her, and introduce yourself. Catch her on her way out, tap her on the shoulder if you're feeling bold. Ask for some of her contact details, play it cool. Just don't shit yourself, got it? All you gotta do." 

Abby finishes her speech, smirking and looking smug. She's positive she got through to you this time. On the surface you're totally chill, confident even, ready to snatch this ethereal being for yourself, however underneath all that you knew you didn't have an ounce of the courage that was required for this seemingly impossible task. 

Breathing deeply to calm yourself and try to take in her helpful words as best as possible, you give Abby a hug. “Thank you Abs, really. I'll do my best. Oh, but what if I freak out and start stuttering- or what if I trip and fall on her…I can't do this what the hell.” Swarmed with worry, you start doubting yourself yet again. Burying your face in your palms, you feel two strong hands on either side of your upper arms and you look back at Abby, who's really not playing around anymore. 

She was so serious about this it almost scared you. Either she cared about you more than anything, or she wanted to hear the end of these pathetic, lovestruck rambles. You prayed it was the former. 

“Suck it up. You can do this. You've had crushes before haven't you? This should be a piece of cake c’mon, I believe in you. Make sure to keep me updated every step of the way! I need to hear every last detail.” She lightens up at the end and releases you from her grip once she sees you've relaxed. 

Unsurprisingly, your best friend always knew what to say to snap you out of your spirals. Maybe most would disagree with her methods, say she was being rough, but they worked for you. Heart rate returning to a normal pace, you reply genuinely. 

“Okay, okay I got this. Yeah, it'll be fine.” She was getting through to you, this time you felt sure of it. “Good, good. Now will you let me finish this stupid assignment? Then we can watch something or do whatever." Abby chatted as she got up and sat back at her desk, resuming her studious endeavor as she left you with your thoughts. 

Immediately you heard her mutter, “All this and you don't even know her goddamn name…good grief.” For the sake of preserving the peace you chose to graciously ignore that one. She said she wanted some quiet, didn't she? 

Drifting away into a sea of daydreams, your thoughts inevitably returned to being clouded by this cryptic figure. It was like she'd cast a love spell on you. Did she even know who you were? Or did she shoot everyone those insufferably charming looks of hers. Was she even aware of how fucking cool she was? 

Dressed in that deliciously grungy style, you yearned to know what floated behind her greener-than-grass eyes. Her hair looked so smooth and soft, the wispy auburnette strands framing her refined features, intriguing fern tattoo decorating her lean forearm…. You felt your cheeks begin to heat up as a portrait of her materialized in your mind's eye. Nestling into the comfortable atmosphere of your best friend's room, you sunk deeper into your thoughts.

Like Abby had mentioned, it certainly wasn't as if you've never had crushes before, you've certainly had your fair share of them, like most people. But that was a sort of flaky, surface level interest, whether it be for their looks, their little quirks, or ways they treated you. Maybe it has been a while since you'd had a proper crush, but you couldn't recall a time when the infatuation, the pure limerence, had hit you this hard before. You almost felt helpless, just besotted by her.

You simply needed to act on this. Right then and there you steeled yourself, and decided you were going to follow Abby's advice after all, and go after this hallway crush. Worst comes to worst, she turns you down, you get over it eventually, bla bla end of story. It wasn't going to be too complicated, right?

You and Abby had stayed up all night, dusk till dawn, gossiping about things other than your hallway crush, shocking, and you were greatly regretting that decision the very moment it was time to gather your books and get to class.

You really did not feel like stunning everyone around you with a gorgeous outfit today, you were just trying to make it through the day in one piece to be honest with yourself. 

With a pounding headache you threw on some mismatched sweats, and ran out the door to be on time. Your bag felt unreasonably heavy as you made your way down your apartment stairs, and you cursed your past self for choosing a building without an elevator. Sure, exercise is healthy, but it can’t be when you’re feeling like a zombie, and wish for nothing more than a good, long nap.

Luckily the lecture hall was a comfortable distance away from your place, not far enough to make it a pain, but enough so you could get a much needed breath of fresh air. The tiredness had pushed all plans of action you and Abby had discussed the previous night to the back of your head, and you weren't thinking of your crush at all. At least for now. 

Walking slowly with your gaze pointed downward, you eventually made it to the hall. Completely dazed and zoned out, you made a mental note to never pull an all nighter again, gross, who’s idea was that- thump. 

Out of nowhere you're rudely jolted from your silent sulking by colliding with something, or someone? It takes a moment to register what happened, and you quickly look up from staring at the ground to sort the situation out. “Oh my gosh I am so sorry..” 

Profusely apologizing while simultaneously being smacked across the face with the realization of who this was. Her. Your words trail off as you’re suddenly winded, and you feel your blood run cold. You’re transfixed by the intense eye contact, and it feels like time has stopped. Goodness, this is dramatic. 

In the time it takes for you to briefly die and come back to life, the young woman has lowered her chunky headphones so they rest around her neck, Morissey’s vocals faintly floating out of them, and is looking at your stunned state with an indiscernible sneer playing on her face. Was this actually happening? Holy shit you and Abby did not discuss this scenario…you weren’t looking where you were going and had collided with an actual Earth angel. Great.

Still gawking at her like an absolute buffoon, akin to a deer in headlights, she breaks the tension first, with a smooth voice that you would obey virtually any command for. 

“Nah, you’re good.” And a wink. Your heart skipped a beat, or four, when you witnessed her wink at you. Did you imagine it? Was she being suave on purpose or did she have an eyelash in her eye…Was your life a literal rom-com or what? 

“Um..” Your mouth opens and closes in an attempt to form a coherent sentence, but your brain is much too fried to do so because, well, you had just made physical contact with the literal girl of your dreams. And gods did she smell good…while you’re unable to tear your eyes away from hers, she keeps talking as if nothing happened.

“I think the prof had an emergency or fuckin’, I dunno.” She stops to gesture around the two of you at the crowd that had formed in front of the auditorium’s double doors with elegant, ring adorned fingers..holy fuck you needed those inside you right fucking now- WHAT. 

Briskly shoving those thoughts down to the deepest depths of your subconscious back to where they belong, you turned your attention back to her, and put on a brave front. Hyper aware of how searing hot your face felt, her pretty self didn't show a hint of caring that you were making a fool of yourself. They say that any situation is always worse in your head than it was in actuality, well you hoped so. 

“So, what are we supposed to do now?” Clearing your throat you managed a sentence back, hooray. You were doing this. Good job. Although, of course, before the gorgeous nymph before you had a chance to respond with her own assumptions, a substitute lecturer you had never seen before pushes his way through the crowd and unlocks the door while people file in, separating you from her. You felt like Rose, viciously torn away from Jack from Titanic, what a cruel, cruel world this was.

And once again you didn't get to ask her name. Re-slinging her bag with one arm, she looks back at you one final time and throws you a “cya around.” Before disappearing into the auditorium with everyone else. You meekly nod at her and force a lopsided smile, before leaning against the wall to steady yourself after that fiasco in the now empty hallway.

Wasting virtually not a moment of time, you pulled your phone out and began furiously texting Abby with a recount of the events at a speed faster than the speed of light. 

Once that excruciatingly torturous class was over, you applauded yourself for containing the stares in her direction and keeping your eyes fixated on the professor. Whether you actually retained any information, now that was a different story. Picking up your bags and laptop, you stay behind for a moment as everyone else files out, no need to crowd and suffocate amongst the other students, and you had nowhere to be except catch up on your favorite shows and relax all by yourself. 

Filing out the auditorium with everyone else, you see a familiar face pass by you, and vaguely hear Abby’s voice in your head urging you to seize the moment. Now’s your chance, go! And so you gather every little bit of strength you possess to do just that. 

After a couple deep breaths you jog up to her. “Uh, hey.” She turns around and gives you a warm smile, making your legs instantly turn to jelly. You subtly checked her out and took in her outfit, another bulky jacket and lightly distressed jeans. Fingers studded with layered silver rings, and those big ole headphones seemed to be magnetically attached to her, she always had them on her. Note to self: ask for some music recommendations.

She was even hotter up close…with a beautiful galaxy of freckles scattered across her fair skin, you wanted to place a kiss on every single of them. “I, um, never caught your name.” “It's Ellie.” She sticks out her hand for a handshake and you accepted it, you finally had a name to the face you've been pining over so intensely for so long. Abby was going to lose it once you tell her about this. You steady your voice and hide the glee that was likely evident from this interaction going so smoothly, and introduce yourself to her as well.

After some time of idle chit chat and standing there, neither one of you knowing really what to say, Ellie pipes up, facepalming, tsking, and furrowing her brows. “Oh yeah, I don’t mean to spring this on you outta nowhere, but would you wanna study sometime?” She flushes a dusty pink, “I don't know anyone else taking this course and am having kind of a hard time with it...when I chose it, I expected it to be more about space and the planets, and less about numbers and math, my head hurts.”

Her demeanor was making you feel rather comfortable with her, even though the two of you had just formally met a few minutes prior. “I would love to, yeah!” Maybe you were being a little too enthusiastic, but at this point you were operating on pure instinct and not thinking critically of what was coming out of your mouth. “I actually don't have any plans now, or today at all, so if you want to, we can get a head start before the next class?” Well that just slipped out. Go you, blurting things out. 

You had no idea why you'd said that because your place was an absolute mess, clothes strewn everywhere, trash can still full, you'd been too preoccupied with your studies, and well her, to do much about it. To your horror, Ellie exclaims, “Hey, that's perfect! I don't have anything to do right now either, and it would be good to act on it while it's still fresh in my mind, y’know?” Her face morphs into an adorable toothy grin as she taps on her skull comically, you were becoming more obsessed by the second, if that was even possible.

Every little sliver of her personality you got to see under the stoic one you had assumed she had just grasped at your heartstrings. You smiled back at her so hard you almost pulled a muscle in your cheeks, “Awesome! Follow me, then, my dorm isn't far.”

The walk there was mostly fine as the two of you made it to your place, Ellie occasionally making comments about how she hates the class even though she adores outer space and learning about it on her own time, and you were nodding and acting as if you're listening, agreeing with her robotically while she rambled away and you daydreamed about what her lush lips would feel like on yours. You wondered if she was gentle with it, or if she’d kiss you hungrily, devour you like her very last meal….gulp.

Leading her to your place was an automatic task, not much navigation needed, and when the journey was done you had to legitimately stop short for a moment in an attempt to soothe the pounding in your chest. 

The crush that has plagued your mind for ages, who you've just met formally today, was about to be in your room. The two of you were about to be alone. That was totally fine, yeah, she can't be a murderer…..right?

“You good?” She asked sweetly, why did she have to be so nice, “Those stairs were killer, I totally get it, phew.” “Oh for sure, gets me every time.” Covering up your panic smoothly, you unlocked the door and went inside with her. When she walked inside, Ellie took a glance around your room and set herself down at the edge of your bed, immediately making herself comfortable, while you still lingered in the doorway, awkwardly swaying and staring at her, unsure of what to do with yourself. 

Suddenly you had completely forgotten why she was here in the first place. “No way, you read Savage Starlight too???” She spotted the figurine on your desk and snatched it up in her hands to inspect it thoroughly, with a childlike wonder in her eyes. “Wow, this one was a limited edition and it sold out in like an hour, I'm so jealous you got this!! How much you want for it, I'm serious.” She was so excited, and you couldn't believe it. Savage Starlight has always been one of your favorite comics ever, you've loved it since you were a young teen, and now this seemingly perfect human before you, who you're hopelessly obsessed with says she loves it too? Could she get any more flawless, is all you could wonder.

Her happiness because of this little thing you two bonded over was infectious, and some of your nerves slowly began to go away.  Grinning genuinely, you sheepishly said, “I've never met anyone else who likes it, that story has helped me through lots of phases in my life, and Daniela was my gay awakening.” Ellie gaped at you for a beat, making you almost doubt revealing that information.

“No. Fuckin’. Way. Mine too! Her suit was just- damn. And those action scenes in the third volume had my thirteen year old self’s brain just mush for, I don't even know for how long. This is crazy, I can already see we’re gonna get along so well.”

You wanted to talk to her about everything and anything forever, and her glee made you want to squish her, but there was unfortunately work to be done first. “There’s so much we have to discuss, but we gotta get some studying done first if we wanna make it out of this course alive.”

You were sitting at your desk, hunched over the sprawled out textbooks and messy notes, as you drew the graphs and talked to her about the concepts she was struggling with. Your desk was so small and you only had one chair, and you were the one using it, so Ellie was forced to hover over you to see all you were doing.

Focusing solely on the subject before you was proving to be more difficult as studying time went by, because you were a little too aware of the way she had caged you in against the desk to watch, her oversized shirt grazing your upper back. You gripped your pen ever so tightly to minimize any trembling, and kept a steady voice as best you could while explaining it all.

She was so, so close, the tension in the tiny room was palpable, she didn't seem to notice your nervous tremors or the proximity she’d created, and the low murmurs of, “ohhh, mhm, yeah,” as you embarrassingly stammered over your explanations made you flushed and to be frank, needy. You could feel her warmth radiating off of her, could faintly hear her breathing just above you. You didn't dare move a muscle. Was she feeling this too?

At this point you swore the delicious gravelly vibrations from her voice this close to you would be plenty enough to make you cream your pants. The air in the enclosed space was getting hotter and thicker by every passing moment, it took everything you had to keep yourself from losing your mind right now. If you moved back a petty few inches, you’d be pressed flush with her front. What would that be like, you wondered. Oh, no. Your throat felt drier than the desert when you swallowed, the thought of that making you weak.

Since your focus on the work was lapsing, you were beginning to make some little mistakes and blunders, compelling her to take the pen right from your hand and fix them herself. “No, no, this one’s supposed to be like this instead, see? Then you're able to get the right answer which is…” She stretches over you further, you nearly whined, someone save you, and grabs the textbook to review the solution. “Like this, yeah, I was right. Honest mistake though, don’t worry about it.”

You nod your head and make a pathetic murmur of approval, ignoring the fiery tingles spreading all the way up your arm when her hand bumps yours to return the writing utensil, and the blistering coil of want forming in your stomach. This all had to be deliberate, right? She couldn't lack that much spatial awareness, could she? Well, it wasn’t that you minded, she could get as close as she damn wanted to, you'd let her throw you around like a ragdoll even- you were just afraid your heart was going to give out if she kept it up. “Could you show me this work you guys did? Of course the one day I'm late, the prof talks about something new and I miss it.” 

What feels like an eternity later, you hear her groan above you and she returns to her earlier spot on your bed. You can finally breathe properly. Glancing at the clock, your own headache begins to set in. Crap it was late, how time flies. 

“We’ve been studying for so long, it’s getting late.” “Shit, you’re right, I’ve definitely overstayed my welcome. Sorry about that, and hey, thanks for this. I understand it all a lot better now, see you tomorrow.”

She stands up abruptly and ushers herself out of your door in a flash, to which you clumsily stand up, knock your chair over, and hastily run after her, not wanting her to go just yet. “Wait, Ellie!” “What's up, did I forget something?”

She pats her pockets and looks at you with concern. Round puppy dog eyes, and lips in a miniscule pout, so cute. You were in front of her now, but did not process what you actually wanted to say. Just ran after her like the smitten nincompoop you are. Upon feeling your face go hot, you look at the ground to mutter, “Uh- nothing. See you later.” Realistically, what were you planning on saying, or doing?

After stumbling over your words you two finally part ways and you slump down against your door, missing her presence already. You simultaneously wanted to jump around or open your bedside table drawer to release the energy you'd accumulated, and wanted to fall into the deepest sleep of your life to recuperate from the experience. This was just, a lot. You wanted to scream and screech like there's no tomorrow, but did not want to deal with noise complaints from the others living on your floor. Gosh she was so close, she shares your niche interest, your hands touched, albeit accidentally, lo and behold you were in love with her.

Maybe it was early to call it that, but you were going to plan out your future together. Preferably a quaint, peaceful farmhouse, the one you two lovebirds renovated together exactly how you envisioned, where you could ogle her doing the farmwork. Ugh. Cook all her favorite meals, make sweet, sweet love under the moonlight. Take strolls through the flower gardens you two planted, receive her curated bouquets as gifts, you two are going to have such a tender, domestic life. 

You had to mull it over some more, and didn’t dare wish to forget how close she was to you, you were still buzzing from her essence. You were pointlessly pacing around your room now, unable to stop looping the study session's events in your head. The simplicity, the eroticism of the encounter. One-sided or not, you had yet to find out more about her, the impatience was going to take over. The day almost seemed too good to be true, but for now you had to force yourself to relax and think about something other than her. Time to browse Pinterest with striking kitchen ideas for your beautiful future. 

What were you going to say to her the next time you see her? You were eager to know how, or if at all, this new friendship was going to progress. Part of you was dying of impatience, but the rest of you wanted to take it all as slow as possible, savoring every little moment and making the most of it. 

You sighed, this was going to be a long, long, year.

lovely taggies: @amiorca @mostlyhornyandsad @lasting-lover @radioheadfan699 @sophie-thefrog8 @machetegirl109 @ellieschair @aouiaa @wavesgocrash @tangerinngi @elliesbitchvenus @dinaissoprettyoml @rxreaqia @camicocom1a @elliesexual @ellslvr @boobdrug @writing-on-a-bathroom-stall @bready101 @yourelliewillms

.......really hoping this doesn't flop because it isn't smutty, yall wanted more fics that are plot soooo

[lady-ace]

Injustice Ghost

(Putting out an Halloween post because why not? By the way, there will be mentions of blood and death, since this will talk about Injustice Billy, and what happened to him.)

Captain Marvel was missing.

Of course, the superhero comunnity was after the answers to what happened, and only got to know some things.

1-This was probably Circe's doing, going by the way the runes they found.

2-It could be undone.

3-The captain switched places with someone- and that someone could have come from anywhere in the multiverse. So, alternative universes were not out of the table.

It was going to be a long week, but it will be worth it.

/ / /

After a long mission and even longer meeting about said mission, Barry was hungry, (Well, running for a long time with no food and super fast metabolism does that to someone) and so decided to eat something in the Watchtower's kitchen.

As it was night and some people decided to go straight to bed after mission, some lights were off. When Barry opened the door leading to the kitchen, he headed for the light switch.

..That is, until he saw something in the dark. The only thing lightning up the room being the faint lights the window provided.

The thing he saw looked.. small. Where it eyes should be, Barry could see right through.

“Hello?”

Barry asked, and received no answer. As the silence dragged on, he decided to flip the light switch he was reaching for earlier. Maybe it was nothing after all?

As the lights came to life, Barry saw the figure. No, the boy.

He was indeed small, maybe 8 to 9 years old. Skinny, too. The weirdest thing about him was that he simply didn't have eyes. Where his eyes should be, there were simply nothing, the borders of where the eyes were supposed to be were caked in blood. In fact, the boy himself seemed see-through, transparent.

The child, who was looking at the window previously, startled when the lights came on, looking at Barry directly before vanishing into thin air.

“Oookay. That happened. Good to know the watchtower's haunted.”

/ / /

Barry: “Did i tell you guys what i saw in the kitchen last night?”

GL (Hal): “No? What did you see?”

Barry: “I think i saw a spirit. No, i'm sure i saw a spirit. Or a ghost.”

GL, in a disbelieving tone: “Dude, what? Are you serious?”

Barry: “I swear. It was a child, and when i flipped the light on, it just looked up at me and vanished! Gone!”

Clark, who was more believing: “So, you're saying the watchtower's haunted? How would this ghost even get here?”

[Barry shrugs]

/ / /

Clark thinks he finally understands what Barry means when he comes face to face with the ghost himself.

This time, it was in the watchtower's recreation room.

Since a meeting was to start soon enough, Clark decided to be extra early, and waited patiently in the recreation room. Currently, he was the only one here, as Bruce was in the meeting room already, probably planning how it will go.

According to the jornal Clark was reading, today was a slow day, with only Central and Gotham being attacked by major villains today, what most likely will be brought up in the meeting.

A shuffling sound besides Clark had him looking up from the jornal, looking directly at something that he had heard about before.

“..You're the ghost Flash told me about, aren't you?”

He asked the spirit, who looked at him blankly.

“You.”

It said. It's voice had an echo quality to it, and was so impossibly quiet, almost a whisper.

“Me? What about me?”

Clark asked the boy, confused.

“Why?”

It questioned, instead of answering.

“Huh?”

The boy stepped closer, as if analyzing Clark's very being.

“Why?”

It repeated, louder and clearer this time. Clark was sure if this.. person (?) had eyebrows, he would be frowning.

“I'm sorry, i don't understand what you mean.”

Clark told the spirit, with an apologetic tone in his voice. It was more than clear this ghost was trying to tell him something, ask him something. And yet, it wasn't able to, or rather, couldn't bring itself to.

The ghost got even closer, one hand pointing to it's eyes.

“This. Why?”

It asked, it's voice filled with hurt, betrayal. Like Clark himself had done something unforgivable.

“..You're asking me why are your.. uh.. eyes that way?”

The ghost shook it's head 'no', and then used the finger that was pointing to it's 'eyes' to get some of the blood in it's face, and proceeded to walked even closer to Clark, now directly in front of him.

As Clark was about to ask something, the boy began floating. The spirit floated up, until it was eye level with him, and put the finger on the jornal Clark was holding, the bloody fingerprint being fixated on a specific news title.

“Multiple innocent lives unfortunately lost in sudden villain attack!”

These words now stood out against the other news coming from Gotham. Clark just read about this- Joker had escaped Arkham yet again, but this time, without anyone knowing, and had planted a bomb on park. Hidden from anyone's view, it went off, killing some people who were just enjoying the afternoon in the park that day.

“Were you one of Joker's victims, little one?”

Clark questioned in the soft tone he uses with scared children- since others in the league don't talk much with civillians after savings, the responsibility almost always falls either on his, Diana's or (surprisingly) Bruce's shoulders.

If this was the spirit of a child who's life was lost in a tragic accident like this, Clark would stop at nothing to give it rest. No one deserved to be stuck, especially since this ghost didn't seem all that happy.

..is what he thought, until the ghost shook it's head no, and then paused.

“Joker? But..”

It's voice was quieter again. It- no, he, looked like he realized something.

"..joker's dead. You..”

Before any questions could be asked, the ghost spoke up again.

“You aren't him, are you? I don't belong here. i don't want to be here. Go away!”

Was the last thing Clark heard the boy say, before he pushed him (or tried to, really, he phased right through him) and disappeared into nothingness, just like Barry had told him he had done before.

This isn't just a silly little fact told by friends to scare each other. The watchtower truly is haunted.

/ / /

(this will have a part 2, i just don't know when)

[potatoplace]

Mastermind

Dark!Feysand x Reader Modern AU

Part 2 | Poly!ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist

Story Summary: Your friend of a few months, Feyre, invited you out for a celebratory drink over your new job, and of course her husband Rhys joins you. The night doesn't go quite as planned, and you end up back at their place with very few wits about you.

Warnings: Drugging, dub-con / non-con, abduction, smut

Words: ~3.8k

Author's Note: so uhmmmm. This idea. Got me to write. Uhhh. Yeah. Enjoy. I sure did hehe 🤭 the chokehold feysand has on me recently is. Very strong. Near irresistible. There might be future parts to this, I'm not sure yet. Read the warnings please!!

18+ only pls

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

Tonight was supposed to be fun.

Your friends Feyre and Rhys had offered to take you out for a drink at Rita’s when she heard about your new job, doing remote work as a graphic designer for a marketing firm.

Feyre’s had suggested the job after all, knowing that your dream lay beyond the coffee shop that you currently work in- well, used to work in, you had quit earlier that day.

That, plus your new, upscale apartment that you rent at an amazing price had made your year considerably better than the last few.

And tonight was supposed to be fun, you had worn your smallest black dress, with tiny straps just barely holding it onto your body.

Yet here you were, being driven home after only two drinks, sitting in the backseat of Rhys and Feyre’s car in Feyre’s arm. You felt dizzy, and heated all over.

It was the type of drunk you rarely felt- overwhelmingly needy and aroused.

You just needed to make it home, and thankfully Rhys and Feyre live in the same building, so there’d be no problems with getting you into your apartment.

This building has way more security than your last apartment, there you were lucky to have never been broken into, with how many times your previous neighbors had been stolen from.

The car came to a slow, smooth stop, and you heard a car door open and shut. Then, one of Feyre’s arms moved from your body, causing you to whine as she opened the door on her side.

The door on your end of the car opened, and you were quickly pulled into the arms of someone warm and solid.

Keeping your eyes open was a struggle, but you managed to tilt your head up, gaze passing over a strong jaw, high cheekbones, and finally locking briefly with intense violet eyes. Rhys smiled down at you, eyes darkened with-

Something.

You were just tired and dizzy and you- oh, you need a shower. The water could drown out your noises, just in case the state you’re in makes you louder than usual. Your thighs rubbed together slightly as your mind wandered, already set on having the feeling of warm water hitting your skin and your hand between your thighs.

Your eyes closed as the three of you passed through a doorway, and a few dings of the elevator later Rhys is walking once more, gentle movements only making you sleepier.

He sets you on the floor gently once you’re in your apartment only-

It’s not your apartment.

“We didn’t think you should be alone right now, darling, with how you’re feeling,” Feyre explained softly, one of her hands already wrapping around yours. “Did you need anything?”

“A shower,” you blurted out, more than ready to have the smell of the club, however faint it was, off of your skin.

“That we can provide, darling,” Rhys said, smacking your ass as he walked away from the both of you. You turned to say something to him, but Feyre was already moving, leading you by the hand.

You passed though a luxurious bedroom, with a California king bed draped in black silk standing out most to you. You could see chains attached to the posts-

“Here we are, Y/N. Did you need help with anything?” Feyre asked, waving her hand to the large bathroom she had taken you too. The shower was open, no curtain or door to close it off from the rest of the room.

You simply shook your head. You could manage a shower on your own, surely, you were already feeling a little better than in the club. “Thank you, Fey,” you said softly, taking her in for a hug.

“Oh, it’s nothing sweetheart. Absolutely nothing,” Feyre replied, pushing the hair away from your face and gathering it into a bun for you, securing it with the scrunchie she’d gotten while you weren’t paying attention. She started the water for you before leaving the room, shutting the door behind her.

You used a makeup wipe to rid yourself of your makeup, feeling far too greasy to not wash your face, then quickly stripped off your dress and your panties and slipped into the stream of water, sighing when the warm water hit your skin. It felt just as good as you imagined- and then your thoughts went back to what you’d thought of on the way up the elevator.

Your hand slipped down, landing between your thighs as water poured over you. Your fingers dipped between your folds, your cunt already thoroughly drenched even without the water running between your legs. You swirled your fingers around your clit slowly, letting out soft sighs every now and then. The pleasure in your gut grew as you moved them faster-

“Y/N? Did you need help with anything?” Feyre asked through the door, and you quickly moved your hands from between your thighs.

“No, Fey, I’m alright,” you said, cheeks blazing with heat.

“Rhys had a nice idea, would you like to go swimming?” Feyre offered, and you turned to your right to see that she’s in the room with you. You covered your chest, keeping as much of yourself hidden as you could.

Swimming could be nice. And you’d seen their pool, it had such a pretty view, and you’d never gone in it before. You nodded your head, eyes taking note of the bikini in Feyre’s hands.

“Good, you can wear this, darling. I’ll be waiting for you outside, don’t take too long,” Feyre said, blowing you a kiss before she closed the door behind her.

Your cheeks heated even further, you’d never had such a nice and friendly female friend before, let alone such a pretty one. Your thoughts strayed to what Feyre would look like in a bikini- absolutely perfect, you were sure. Fingers dipped back between your thighs, rubbing quick circles over your clit, you just needed to cum once, once then you could go enjoy the rest of your night with your friends-

A knock at the door, right as you were about to finish.

Feyre entered without waiting for you to respond, this time without the stunning black dress she’d been wearing before. Instead, she was completely naked.

You blushed profusely, turning your eyes away from her.

“Oh, darling, you can look all you like. I just thought, since you’re taking so long and I need to shower, I’d come in and just get mine done at the same time.” Feyre paused. “I could leave, if you’d like,”

Your brain was short circuiting, being so close to your incredibly beautiful, incredibly sexy friend of a few months. “Oh, that’s, uhm… that’s fine, Fey.”

Feyre smiled, getting a bit closer to you. “Good. Did you need help getting clean, sweetness?” Feyre asked, her chest nearly touching yours, still covered by your arms. She already had a cloth filled with soap in her hands and began running it across your shoulders soothingly. Your arms slowly feel from your chest, and Feyre took the opportunity to step closer, arms practically wrapped around you as she used the cloth to clean your back, her breasts pressed against yours.

You could hardly breathe, this woman, your friend was so perfect and naked and-

The cloth slipped over your cunt, Feyre’s deft fingers quickly rubbing it over your clit, and a quiet moan escaped you. The cloth was gone a second later, two of Feyre’s fingers sinking into your cunt as the other hand came to rub circles on your clit. You came shamefully quickly, already having worked yourself up so high before your friend entered the room.

“Good girl,” Feyre whispered against your ear before pressing hot kisses down your neck, only pulling away to grab the cloth off the floor of the shower and begin washing you once more. Once she was finished, she pushed you back into the stream of water, rinsing the suds off of your body. “Help me out?” Feyre asked, hands already pushing the cloth into yours. When you hesitated, she made puppy dog eyes at you. “I helped you, pleeease Y/N?”

That was all you needed, body moving of its own accord as your hands used the cloth to clean her body, trying not to linger too long on her breasts, ass, and her sweet looking pussy that at the moment you knew you wanted nothing more than to bury your face in. Feyre rinsed herself off, her hands lingering over the spots you’d wanted to touch longer. You were on the verge of getting on your knees and begging when Rhys’s voice came from the doorway.

“You ladies are so gorgeous,” he said, walking further into the room, and it was then that you noticed- he’s naked, his long, thick cock bobbing invitingly at you, already hard and waiting. You managed to snap your eyes away from him, only to land on Feyre’s chest.

Fuck, it should be illegal for these two to be this hot, you thought to yourself, thighs pressing together as you tried to look anywhere but at your two friends.

“Thank you, Rhys,” Feyre said, walking out of the shower and pulling him with her into it. “You can shower, the two of us will get in the pool. Right Y/N?”

You nodded, letting her grab your hand and lead you over to the towels. She dried you off, lingering over your sensitive areas longer than necessary, then helped dress you in the bikini she was lending you- if you could even call it that. It was practically strings, with small stars of fabric to cover your nipples and a slightly thicker strip of fabric to cover your cunt.

But, if your friends had already seen you naked… what’s the harm?

Feyre was dressed similarly, her bikini in black instead of your silver set. She pulled you out of the bathroom, through their bedroom and out onto the patio. Feyre sat at the edge of the pool, patting the ground next to her, and you joined her a moment later.

You sighed, then leaned your head onto Feyre’s shoulder.

“Feeling better yet, darling?” She asked, her right arm coming up to circle around your shoulders. You nodded against her shoulder, kicking your legs gently in the water. “I’m glad to hear it.”

“Would either of you ladies like another drink?” Rhys asked from behind you.

“Yes please, Rhysie,” Feyre responded. “She’ll have a soda, I think. Hmm, baby? Does that sound good?” You nodded your head in confirmation. In no world do you need another drink at this point, for gods sake your friend already made you-

“Let’s get in the water, darling.” Feyre slipped in the pool, water coming to just under her barely covered breasts. “Join me?” She asked coyly, and you couldn’t help but follow her in, making your way to her immediately. The water came up to your collarbones, your height difference feeling so pronounced as you looked up at her, half expecting her to make another move.

“Here we are.” Rhys’s voice cut through the bubble you and Feyre had been in for a moment. You turned to look at him and saw that he was already sitting at the edge of the pool the two of you had entered at, two drinks in hand.

You and Feyre made your way to him, happily taking the drinks from his hand and watching as he slipped into the pool. The height difference between the two of you took your breath away slightly, you felt so small next to him. You took a few greedy sips of your soda to cover up how flustered you are around the couple tonight, every little thing about them seems to be turning you on more and more.

Feyre had taken a sip of her drink and set it back down, choosing to follow Rhys a bit deeper into the water.

You could see as he cupped her ass in his hands, her legs wrapping around his waist as they kissed passionately in front of you-

And you wanted, no, needed to be a part of that, your body already moving towards them before you were able to stop yourself. You turned back to the edge of the pool, feeling hot and dizzy with need like you had been earlier at Rita’s. Quickly, you set your drink on the smooth stone at the edge of the pool and took a few deep breaths.

These are your friends. They’re married. Stop being a whore-

Arms wrapped around you, and Feyre’s soft chest met your back. “Hi darling, not getting too lonely, are you?” She asked lowly in your ear, then pressed a soft trail of kisses from behind your ear all the way down your neck and onto your shoulder. You were leaning back against her by the time she came back up to your ear, lightly tugging on it with her teeth. “Turn around for me, sweetness,” she told you, hands helping move you where she wanted. “Perfect,” Feyre said breathily, before leaning down and pressing her lips against yours softly. The feel of her plush lips on yours was perfect, so gentle and warm. After a few seconds her tongue darted out, and you let her take control of the kiss, dominating your mouth with hers as she pushed you back against the wall of the pool.

When the two of you came up for air, you were filled with need so great you thought you might burst. You noticed a strong, tan pair of arms caging the two of you against the pool wall, and looked up to meet Rhys’s gaze. His violet eyes were filled with lust, matching the grey blue eyes of his wife that were also locked on yours. “What do you say darling? Be ours?” He asked, eyes darting down to your lips.

You tried to think about it, really think about it, but one of Feyre’s hands was between your thighs again, pushing past the tiny bikini and playing with your clit. Your eyes fell shut at her touch, a moan already making its way past your lips.

“Please,” you whined, not fully sure what you were begging for, you just knew that you needed more.

One thick finger slid into you, nearly as big as both of Feyre’s were earlier, and another moan fell from your lips, this one going into Feyre’s shoulder where you’d collapsed into her, unable to hold yourself up any longer.

“Oh, sweetness, I think it’s time,” Feyre said, disconnecting herself from you. “Get her into the bathroom, Rhys,” she ordered, already pulling herself out of the pool.

You were barely keeping yourself up, but Rhys moved closer to you, pulling you in to his chest. His kissed you gently, drawing a sweet sigh from your lips before he stopped and pushed you up onto the ledge of the pool, then followed you up. He helped you stand, and picked you up after you nearly fell after three steps.

“Silly girl, don’t worry, we’ll have you all nice and comfy in bed soon,” Rhys said, carrying you into the bathroom, where Feyre was already naked and rinsing off. “You got to dress her, I get to undress her,” Rhys snapped at Feyre when she tried to come over to you. She rolled her eyes, but stayed under the stream of water, waiting for both of you.

Rhys slowly peeled the bikini off of you, taking his time to squeeze your breasts and pinch your nipples hard enough to make you gasp, and grazing his fingers over your sensitive clit teasingly a few times. As soon as you were bare Feyre came over and pulled you back into the shower while Rhys rid himself of his swim trunks.

The warm spray felt nice on your skin again, especially paired with the gentle touches of the couple surrounding your senses. One of them gently guided your face under the spray of water, and the other cleaned your face with a familiar smelling soap. They rinsed your face carefully, then shut the water off and four hands began drying you off. Once your face was dry you opened your eyes to see Feyre’s pretty ones staring back at you.

“Let’s get your skincare done, sweetness,” she suggested, leading you over to the counter after Rhys had finished drying your body. Feyre applied a toner, moisturizer and eye cream, all of them the same ones that you used daily.

“That’s funny…” you said, trailing off.

“What is, darling?” Rhys asked from where he was stood behind you, arms encircling your torso. You stared at his thick arms, how muscular they are… then you realized that you could feel him- hard and pressed against your lower back. “What’s funny?” He whispered in your ear, and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what he was talking about.

You didn’t respond. More like couldn’t, when his lips started sucking a deep, purple mark onto your neck and Feyre’s lips covered your own hungrily.

You were nothing but a quivering, needy mess when they pulled away, but luckily for you it was just to move you into the bedroom, onto their massive bed.

“Finally,” Feyre groaned at the sight of you spread out in the middle of their bed, your legs kept apart by their hands. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to taste this sweet pussy?” She asked you, looking expectantly down at your face. “Hmm?” She tapped her thumb on your clit twice, making your hips twitch. You shook your head. “Since the moment I met you. I knew that I needed to have you, that I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if you weren’t mine and Rhys’s,” Feyre explained, now rubbing small, even circles on your clit. “And luckily for me, well, Rhys has a pretty big breeding kink and once he saw you…” Feyre grinned down at you, eyes soft.

“I knew I had to have you as well,” Rhys finished for her, his head already dipping down to capture one of your nipples in his mouth. Your back arched as he teased it with his tongue, and between that and Feyre’s fingers you came quickly, breathy moans escaping your lips until Rhys’s mouth was over yours again. “Fuck, you are absolutely perfect,” he groaned.

Feyre fingers had moved away from you, and you were about to whine at the lack of stimulation before her mouth, warm and wet, began devouring you. She lapped up the slick that had leaked from you greedily before moving up to your clit. Feyre slowly licked at your sensitive bud, building up your pleasure once more as Rhys kissed you and played with your breasts, swallowing up the endless moan leaving you. When you were finally able to lift your head an look down at Feyre, you saw that she was grinding her thighs together as she ate you out with her eyes closed, and the sight of her so focused on your pleasure bringing you to the brink once more. You could hardly think when she climbed over you and kissed you, before moving up your body again and seating herself over your face.

Without a thought you flicked your tongue out, moaning at how wet she already was- for you.

Your arms came up to hold onto her thighs as licked at her center hungrily, sure that you had that same expression on your face that she had worn just moments before. You were happily sucking on your clit when you felt your legs being parted by-

Rhys was pushing in to you, the movement of his cock eased by how slick you were, and you moaned into Feyre’s cunt.

“Fuck, Y/N, don’t stop,” Feyre ordered breathlessly as she ground her hips down onto your face, forcing you to give she needs. She came on your face right as Rhys fully seated himself inside of you, all of the breath leaving your lungs as he did.

“Fey, she feels amazing. So tight and hot, I don’t know that I’ll ever leave the house again,” Rhys remarked as he began moving in and out of you slowly, letting your cunt adjust to his size as much as it could.

“Good thing we don’t have to for the next week,” Feyre said, still working her hips over your mouth, keeping your senses entirely filled by herself and her husband. Rhys started picking up the pace soon, letting one of his thumb graze over your clit every few seconds, your walls gripping him tighter in response. “Mm, fuck,” Feyre moaned, cumming on your face again, letting her hips twitch over you a few times before climbing off of you and sliding down so she could kiss your swollen lips. “We have plenty of time to train our new little pet.

“Train-?” You started to ask, but Feyre covered your mouth with hers once more, using her fingers to take over for Rhys’s thumb on your clit.

Moans were spilling out of you again whenever your mouth was unoccupied, which wasn’t often. Rhys has figured out just the angle to hit to make you see stars, barely even needing Feyre’s fingers to topple over the edge before Rhys followed you, slotting his hips tightly against yours as he emptied his cum into you.

After he pulled out he kissed you tenderly, fingers pushing as much of his cum back into you as possible as he did so. Your cunt fluttered around the tips of his fingers, so sensitive to every little touch now.

Feyre had disappeared, but came back into the room from the bathroom, a wet wash cloth in hand, and she carefully cleaned off your face.

“I guess we could have waited to do the skincare, hmm?” Feyre asked amusedly, taking in how wrecked you looked already.

“It was just a different kind of facial, darling,” Rhys said, humor in his voice. “Besides, her face is bound to get dirty again before the morning.”

“I suppose that’s true, her mouth is like magic Rhys, I’m sure with a little training she’ll be just as perfect at it as you are,” Feyre said, her thoughts already drifting to riding your face once more.

You were nearly asleep by the time Feyre was done cleaning your face, barely registering the feeling of something being wrapped around your throat and a gentle snick of something latching shut, but you were too tired to think about anything as Feyre and Rhys settled in around you, keeping you secure between their arms.

Lemme know if you guys want a part 2 🫣

[alphabetboyluvr]

PALLADIUM - MYG

title credit: palladium- greyson chance

pairing: dilf!yoongi x reader // friends to lovers, slowburn, eventual smut

synopsis:

min yoongi is urgent.  in the way he bites his nails down to the bed, and the way his sore fingers type out desperate sentences just minutes before deadlines, he is urgent. how he prepares jaehyun’s day bag before grandma comes by, and how he double checks everything is packed, he is urgent.  the requests for you to watch over jaehyun each and every deadline day are, always, predictably, urgent. but the way min yoongi falls in love with you is slow. gradual. tepid. until, like everything with min yoongi, it becomes urgent.  

wordcount: 3.2K

note from holly: this was a prompt from a winner of one of my kofi quizzes! was supposed to be a drabble but now we are looking at a lil three parter. no smut in this part, just setting up our dynamics <3 yoongi is a boy dad! idc! argue with the wall!!!!

PART TWO // PART THREE

minors dni // cross posted to wattpad

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't urgent," Yoongi pleads across the bakery counter. Nails bitten down to the bed, he's got bags underneath his eyes. Hasn't been sleeping well these days. Hasn't really been sleeping at all.

"I told you last time—"

"I know, I know," he sighs, pushing off of the countertop and pacing a few steps away, raking a stressed palm through his long, dark hair. Dishevelled, he hasn't had it cut in a while. You'll never tell him, but you think it looks better this way. "Look, it's the last time. I promise. I just really fucked it this time."

With a raised brow, you fold your arms over your chest. The apron beneath you bunches a little awkwardly, but you've never cared much for composure around Yoongi. Have simply known him too long and seen him through too many clumsy stages of life to be bothered. 

Tipping your head back, you exhale a sharp breath from the very depths of your lungs. 

"You are so lucky Jaehyun is an angel baby," you eventually say, shaking your head as you reluctantly agree. "What time do you need me?"

"Deadline is at midnight," Yoongi says, "So whenever you can get to mine, really. Mum has him till seven, but then she's got Bitch'n'Stitch—"

"Hey," you scold. "My mum goes to that knitting group, too."

"I'm not calling her a bitch—but I've heard their conversations," Yoongi reminds you. He swears they don't actually do any knitting (as if they haven't handmade half of Jaehyun's closet). Thinks they spend the entire time gossiping. And while yes, they do do a lot of gossiping, they can multitask. Unlike him, apparently. "But fine. She has her knitting group at seven."

Yoongi will never simply call it a knitting group, if he can help it. 

Bitch'n'Stitch is his go-to, but he's also partial to Stitching Hour. 

Last week, you'd just gone on a rant about how it's inappropriate to insinuate that all women of a certain age from your small town are witches—"Women used to get burned at the stake, Yoongi. Burned!"—so he knows better than to say it out loud today, even if it makes him laugh whenever he thinks about them knitting on broomsticks.

"I'll probably be outta here at just gone six," you tell him. 

It's the late shift, so you're responsible for closing and cleaning up, but after two years of part-time work alongside your studies, you're a dab hand. Can action off every item on the to-do list in record time, and to a standard even your boss can't achieve. 

You're wasted on a small town like this, but someone's gotta do it. 

"That's fine," Yoongi nods. "I just need to straighten this essay out and get my citations done. You can go as soon as I'm finished—and hey, you can order takeout. I'll pay."

Knowing Yoongi, he's probably surviving on instant noodles, and spending all of his money on Red Bull and Jaehyun's meticulously planned diet. 

Jaehyun's been off formula for about two months, now, and Yoongi is terrified of feeding him the wrong thing. By the looks of his slightly skinnier-than-usual frame, he's the one in need of a good meal.

And so, as you're doing your final tasks of the day, you don't bin the breads that need to be chucked. Instead, you bag them up. All of them. The pastries, too. Will just have to hope Yoongi has freezer space.

By the time you make it home, you've only got ten minutes to spare for a quick shower before you need to rush to Yoongi's. You'll be a little after seven, but it's fine. You've resigned yourself to staying at Yoongi's until midnight, now. 

It's how it usually goes. 

He'll work up until his deadline, rewriting and revising paragraphs that are perfectly fine and need no alterations. His own worst critic, you know that he really doesn't need to stress himself out like this.

Still, he does. You think he'll always be this way���at least, he was in high school, and he remains to be this way, even in university. Too much of a habit has been formed. It's ingrained in the ridges of his brain. Pink and permanent—just like the pout on his lips as he opens his apartment door for you later that evening.

Forearm tucked under Jaehyun's pudgy thighs, Yoongi cradles his son into his side, as a look of relief relaxes onto his face. It's a stark reminder of why Yoongi stresses himself out so much. 

You can afford to make mistakes. The only person you have to answer to is yourself.

Yoongi doesn't have that luxury anymore. Hasn't done for a while, now. Won't ever get it again—or at least, not for another seventeen years.

"Hey," he whispers, then casts his eyes down to Jaehyun's sleepy head. Nestling into Yoongi's shoulder, Jaehyun's dark hair now has a little length to it. Much like his own, Yoongi is refusing to cut it. Another thing he's scared of getting wrong. 

The subtle nod Yoongi gestures towards Jaehyun is a request for you to be quiet. 

You're familiar with his paternal habits by now; the behaviours he exhibits only when he's wearing his invisible 'Dad' hat.

He tucks back against the door, letting you walk on through and into his apartment.

Shoes off by the door, Yoongi locks up as you shake off your jacket, and hook it on the empty peg in the middle of the rack.

Small and a little dark, Yoongi hates his home. Is strapped for cash, so turned the open plan kitchen and sitting room into a studio-type set-up. Has his bed where a sofa should be, and manages to cram everything somewhere. His desk, his small keyboard, his clothing rail that he really needs to reorganise. A bunch of his things are in storage. 

Jaehyun's room is what once was Yoongi's. It's got the most natural light, thanks to the window placement, not that it matters at this time of night. The curtains are drawn, playmat full of yellows and oranges scattered across the floor. Beside it, is Yoongi's laptop. The screensaver is running, and it's pretty obvious he'd been playing with the little toy octopus sprawled across the keyboard instead, when you had arrived.

"Bit late for nap time?" You question quietly as you pop your phone on the charging pad Yoongi keeps on the dresser.

Nodding, Yoongi gently rests his son down in his crib. These past couple of days, everything has been a little out of sync. He feels guilty—like he's failing—but the pressures he's been putting on himself are just getting far too great. He's doing the best he can, but it always feels like it's not enough.

But Jaehyun is loved, and sheltered, and provided for. Yoongi is doing all he can. He just still isn't sure he knows how to be a dad.

Which is silly, because as you watch him stroke across the dark hair that sits flat to Jaehyun's scalp, quietly monitoring his condition, you think that Yoongi was made for this. Is far more paternal than you are maternal.

Truth be told, you don't like kids all that much.

Your idea of a fun evening doesn't typically involve hanging out with an infant, and yet you'll do it for Yoongi. Of course, you will. Have known him for too long and have been through too much with him to not help him.

Plus, you really do adore Jaehyun. Sweet as can be when he sleeps, he really does look just like Yoongi at that age—or so you gather from the baby pictures you've seen a dozen times over at his parents' place. It's easier to count which features they don't share. Saves ever needing to do a paternity test, not that Yoongi would do one anyway.

Jaehyun is his kid. A little bit of DNA wouldn't change this fact, not in his eyes.

It worries you. Not because you think Yoongi isn't his father—again, they're too alike to not be related—but in case his mother decides she wants to play an active role in Jaehyun's life. You fear that the 1% of doubt could come true and tear any legal right away from Yoongi. You're not really sure how the courts would work it all out, but you doubt they'd side with him. 

Yoongi was never meant to be a father. Not now, at least. The outcome of a one-night-stand, Jaehyun's biological mother didn't realise she was pregnant until it was too late. Had no real choice in the matter. Was also nearing the end of her tenure in law school. A kid was not—and remains to not be—a part of her plan. 

You know the documents were signed. Legal rights, shit like that. Know that she must have an understanding of the law far greater than Yoongi. Just hope she hasn't done anything that will fuck him over in the future.

Still, it's not a topic of conversation Yoongi likes indulging in, and so you don't push, no matter how much you'd like to know the details. 

"Let him sleep," Yoongi eventually sighs, before sinking down to lie on the rug. "Better he rests while I'm working—and plus, he slept through till five-thirty this morning."

"Till sunrise?" You chirp, a little surprised but conscious of keeping your voice down. 

Yoongi nods, face rubbing against the carpet. "He's basically a teenager."

Rolling your eyes, you reach down for his wrist to drag him to his feet. He's got an essay to finish. 

"Shut up," you smile. "You've barely stopped being a teenager."

Sometimes, it makes you a little sad to think that Yoongi is missing out on his early twenties—but then you glance across to Jaehyun and know that he's not missing anything. Just experiencing different things. That's all. 

"Don't remind me," he grunts, lamely getting to his feet, letting you pull him down the hallway as you swipe the baby monitor that lives next to the charging pad. You'll come back for your phone later. 

"C'mon, gotta finish your essay. Can't be a DILF unless you get this degree."

"Untrue."

"You'll just be a D without a good job," you tell him. "DILF's are always suited up."

"That's simply not true," he doubles down. "I've been told I'm a DILF at least, like, six times. Maybe more."

Definitely more. If he knew the way girls on campus spoke about him? God, his head would be so big he wouldn't be able to walk through doors.

But for now, you shoo him back through Jaehyun's bedroom door and to his sitting room-come-bedroom. The apartment isn't large. A baby monitor isn't needed, yet one is set up by Yoongi's bed, regardless. 

And so, as Yoongi knuckles down with his work, you flop onto his bed, and take prime babysitting position—though you're pretty sure you'd get fired if you ever got under anyone else's sheets on the job.

But it's late, and you've worked a long shift. You're only gonna rest your eyes for a moment. A second. A fraction of one, even. Just to hydrate them a little. Replenish your—

You're out like a light.

The curse of Min Yoongi's bedsheets. You really should have known better. It happens every damn time. You know this. He knows this. 

Yet when he eventually wakes you, neither of you mention it.

"Hey," Yoongi mumbles as he gently nudges your sleepy body. Flopping down beside you on top of the duvet, his exhausted eyes close instantaneously. 

"I'm going, I'm going," you grumble into his duvet, half asleep but knowing that you should go and check on Jaehyun. 

The baby monitor hasn't made any noise to wake you, and Yoongi's just been with him for the last twenty minutes, quietly watching on as he slept. Is pretty confident he's gonna sleep through again tonight. 

Reaching out to pat you down, Yoongi doesn't really acknowledge the way he accidentally taps your ass. Nor do you. Just sort of pretend that he didn't. Pretend that it didn't make your heart race a little.

"S'fine," he says, voice muffled by his need for rest. "He's still sleeping. Just checked on him."

"Sure?"

"Mhm," Yoongi nods, the sound of his hair smooth against his sheets. "You gonna crash here?"

"You all done?" You question right back. Shuffle, and his hand lazily moves with you. His wrist now rests on your hip, and you both pretend like it's normal.

"All done," he confirms. "Was late, so I've lost ten percent, but whatever."

For someone who stresses himself out as much as Yoongi does over his grades, as soon as he's hit the submission button, he just ceases to care. Has a 'what'll be, will be' attitude towards it all. Part of you wishes he would adopt that mentality when he's actually writing his essays.

What you don't realise is that it manifests from the same fear. 

He panics and panics and panics before a deadline—and then is so worried about his grade that he just pretends like they don't exist.

Too sleepy to care at this moment in time, Yoongi's placement of his wrist on your hip becomes more intentional. Deliberate. 

It's not like you're a stranger to the weight of Yoongi's arms draped over your body. Not like it's the first time—it's just every time it does happen, you swear it'll be the last.

It never is.

And it's not like it's anything illicit. Not anything you shouldn't be doing. Nothing that takes you beyond the realms of friendship—but it does threaten the integrity of your oldest connection to another human outside of familial ties. 

So every time Yoongi gets a little too close, or you find yourself lingering a little long on his words, you tell yourself to stop. That this is just a symptom of the dry spell you've been going through.

"Are you staying here tonight?" He asks.

Again, it wouldn't be the first time. Have been having sleepovers with him since you were kids. Ghost stories, midnight feasts. Sneaking out to the park to find UFOs and stopping by the corner shop for snacks. 

Once high school hit, it was deemed unwise by your parents. Open door policy. 

You'd been furious. Outraged that your privacy was being taken from you, and being told it was for your own good.

And so sneaking out the park became sneaking in windows; films watched with headphones on, dinner eaten in your bedroom under the guise of a melodramatic teenage strop, but actually shared with the boy from two doors down who knew better than to deceive your parents.

All innocent. Nothing that required a closed door. Those escapades were saved for—or wasted on—other people. Either, or. Neither you nor Yoongi gave it much thought. Why would you?

Friends, is what you were. What you are. What you always have been.

Which begs the question: why the fuck is Yoongi looking at you like that?

But then the wrist of Yoongi's resting on your hip becomes his hand. The grip becomes intentional. The stillness of your body comes not from tiredness, but from trepidation. 

"Do you want me to?" 

"It's late," he husks, thumb stroking against your hip as if that's what friends do. "You're off tomorrow, right? Don't need to go home?"

"Right."

"Well, then stay," he shrugs, loosening his grip to roll onto his back. The ceiling is far less interesting than you are, but he has to stop looking at your lips and wondering if they taste like the strawberry lip balm you'd tossed on the side cabinet earlier. "Makes sense."

"Stay?" You question as if he still needs to clearly outline that, yes, he'd like you to stay. "And do what?"

"Sleep," he dryly replies, because it's the obvious answer. Because it's what you should do. You're tired. He's tired. Jaehyun is asleep in the next room over.

"Sleep," you nod. "Sounds good."

Domestication becomes you in times like these. A toothbrush sits in an old glass on the top shelf of Yoongi's mirrored bathroom cabinet. The rest of the shelves are pretty much empty, but he always puts it up there. Says it annoys him anywhere else.

"Surely it's more annoying having to get it down for me every time I crash here?" You banter with him as you lean against the back wall of his bathroom, waiting for him to retrieve it. 

Plucking it from the glass, Yoongi is swift with his movements, and the way he wets the brush, puts a pearl of toothpaste on the bristles, then hands it back over to you.

"Doesn't bother me," he shrugs, turning back around to shut the cabinet. When he does, he's greeted with your eyes in the mirror, and a feeling in his stomach that should bother him. 

See, the D in Yoongi's DILF actually stands for dependable (although occasionally dickhead also fits). He likes being asked to do things. Likes being helpful. Useful. Knows that he depends on you far more than you do him, and so he does this to settle the score. 

You help him pass his exams, and he helps you keep good dental hygiene habits. A win-win situation. 

Leaving you to finish washing up, Yoongi does the final checks of his apartment. Bolts the door. Turns out the lights. Makes sure Jaehyun's day bag is packed for tomorrow with his Grandma. Adds the day's clothes to the laundry pile. Stands in the doorframe of Jaehyun's room to just simply watch his son exist for a little while longer. 

He loses track of time doing this. It's a nightly routine, so you think he'd get used to it, but he never does. Still can't fully comprehend that a living, breathing creature relies on him for basic survival. 

Sure, he hides your toothbrush away, and puts things out of reach for you just to get you asking him for help, but this is different. He cares about nothing more than making sure Jaehyun is surrounded by abundance: love, shelter, food. Everything the world has to offer, Yoongi wants for his son—and that's why he's working so damn hard to make sure it happens.

There's a tenderness to how Yoongi strokes your back when you stand beside him. He's far gentler than he used to be. Benevolent with age. Isn't the same kid who used to chase you around his parent's yard with a worm in one hand, and a pile of mud in the other. 

"C'mon," you whisper, walking away because you know you need to break the contact. "Let's rest."

Yoongi nods. Is slow as he tears his gaze from his son, but just as stoic as he watches you saunter down the hallway and into your bedroom for the night. His bedroom.

You slip out of sight, just in time for Yoongi to exhale the air in his lungs. His sigh is full of unspoken words. Uncertain terms—and as he follows you down, he wonders how many more secrets will bloat his lungs throughout the night.

[queenimmadolla]

𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀

(eddie munson x secret admirer!reader)

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 Summary: After four long years of pining, it's high time you tell your crush you like him and quite possibly your last chance to, luckily there's no better time for love confessions than Valentine's Day. If only you hadn't chosen to do so anonymously, because you're pretty sure he's hoping his secret admirer is someone else.

Warnings: pining, angst, misunderstandings, very brief (blink and you miss it) descriptions of oncoming panic attack (doesn't happen), Heather Holloway being a sweetie, and a whole lot of fluff a/n: I did way too much for something that was supposed to be 2.k word count wise, and is definitely going to flop because of how late I'm posting it but I don't care because it is still technically Valentine's Day. A HUGE thank you to @kitmon for being my incredible beta-half (get it?) and if you like slow burns (and I mean the best ‘GET TOGETHER ALREADY but also please take your time really finding and understanding each other’ fics), go devour their masterlist. Happy reading and Happy Valentine's day ♡ word count: 10k

You stood posted by a row of lockers, peaking around the corner of the hall to watch as the longtime object of your affections laughed at something one of his friends said.

  “Are you stalking him again?”

  You jumped, clutching your biology book to your chest as you swiveled around to face Heather, your best friend.

  “Geez!” You hissed out, voice low as you checked to make sure you hadn’t attracted his attention.

  But it’s you, so of course you hadn’t. Eddie was still leaning up against his locker and chatting away, face framed by the mane he called his hair. His curls were defined much more than usual—clearly he’d washed his hair before school which meant he must have been up early. Why did you know that????

  “I’m not stalking him,” you grumbled and Heather giggled. “I’m just observing him.”

  “Well, stop observing him and go talk to him.” She nudged your shoulder, giving you a reassuring smile. 

  “I’m gonna—,” You answered with false bravado that soon wavered, “. . . eventually. Look, I have a plan. Okay, today is a new day, Valentine’s Day and the perfect day for romance. No more watching from the sidelines─”

  Heather coughed out a stalking, followed by another cough, all of which you ignored.

  “No more quietly pining, I’m telling him how I feel.”

  Heather raised her eyebrows, tongue clicking. 

  “Let me get this straight, you’re not only going to actually exchange words with him, you’re actually going to tell Eddie Munson about your feelings?”

  Your heart fluttered just at the mention of him.

  Edward Wayne Munson. Eddie.

You’d had a crush on him since your freshman year of high school, and contrary to your best friend’s earlier statement, you had exchanged words with him already. Sorta. Basically.

Freshman year you’d ate shit in the hallway, tripping over literally nothing and all your belongings had scattered, he’d stopped walking to help you pick your things up before he was off again. It wasn’t much conversation, but he did say something about those invisible rocks people left lying around.

  Then your sophomore year, he’d sat behind you with his club at the school’s mandatory pep rally. One of his friends had accidentally jostled you and Heather a little too roughly when he was finding his seat and Eddie had apologized on his behalf.

  Then last year he’d held the cafeteria door open for you and your friends when you slipped in. That time, you’d been the one to thank him and he had said you’re welcome. Almost unprompted!

  So, yeah. Maybe you were a little delusional, it didn’t matter though. What mattered was you were running out of time. 

  Somehow, Eddie had managed to fail the past two years, allowing you to catch up to him but that meant you were now a senior as well. You’d let the other chances to approach him pass you by because you were too scared of rejection, this was your last chance.

  The college acceptance letter you’d received at the start of the week also spurred your bravery, if he rejected you, you only had a few months left until you were on your way to California, there’d be all those states between the two of you. 

  You had nothing to lose, so today was gonna be the day.

  “Yes,” you took a deep breath, slowly exhaling as the determination sank deep into your bones. “I’m gonna tell him.”

  “How are you gonna do that?” She cocked her head, the curls of her side ponytail bouncing.

  “I’m glad you asked, my friend.” You grabbed her hand, dragging her down the hall to your partially opened locker. You pulled the door open fully to reveal a bouquet of roses, set on top of your books.

  Her face wrinkled up in confusion, “You bought yourself flowers again?”

  “No.” You glared at her, a hand scratching your head as you hissed out through gritted teeth, “And we promised not to bring that up anymore—these are for Eddie.”

  Heather perked up at that, a hand resting over her chest as she fawned, “Dude, that is so cute! When are you gonna give them to him?”

  “That’s the thing, I’m not actually going to give them to him directly. I need your help. You’ve got history with him, yeah?”

  You already knew she did so it didn’t surprise you when she nodded. You slipped one rose from the bouquet and handed it to her. 

  “Can you leave this on his desk?” 

  “Sure! Wow, I can’t believe I get to be part of your love story,” she marveled, twirling the stem between her fingertips.

  God, you hoped it’d be a love story and not a tragedy.

  “And these are for you.” You pulled out a smaller bouquet of pink roses, and Heather just about burst into tears.

  The two of you had been best friends since middle school, and often spent your free time watching corny teen movies, usually living through the main characters of the romance ones. You’d had a couple of almost-boyfriends, in the end you hadn’t been interested in them enough to accept when they’d try to make it official. And Heather simply hadn’t caught the eye of anyone, which was ridiculous to you considering how pretty and nice she was, so you were usually her valentine on Valentine’s Day. This was the first time you actually got her flowers instead of a bunch of chocolates to eat the night away, you’d figured she deserved them. 

  She’d had a crush on Steve Harrington, but he hadn’t noticed her and ended up dating and getting dumped by Nancy Wheeler. Then he’d dated every other girl except her. You feared your non-existent relationship with Eddie might go the same way.

  “Dude,” Heather yanked you in for a hug, squeezing you to the point you thought your ribs might be bruised.

  “Uhm. Heather. Ow.”

  “Oh, sorry.” She released you, holding you by your shoulders, “Okay, so I just give it to him?”

  “No, no, no, no, no. There will be no interactions. Just leave it on his desk.”

  “Whatever you say, boss.”

  You were about to reply when the first bell cut you off and threw you into a panic, nudging Heather in the direction of the classroom so she could beat Eddie there. Heather took off running once she realized the reason for your worry, only you both failed to remember Eddie was late to everything. 

  You reluctantly made your way to your first period, plagued by thoughts of Eddie’s reaction to the first rose.

  Would he like it? Oh, you hoped he liked it.

  What if he thought it was some prank? What if he threw it away? Would he do the same to the rest?

  Oh, well. There was no backing out now.

  Your carefully thought out plan was put into action. You’d made sure to play sick the last 15 minutes of every class to get an excuse note to the nurse, only you didn’t go to the nurse. Instead, you ran around leaving a rose in Eddie’s various hang outs. One at the creepy old bench you knew he did business at. Two roses with the stems placed through the slits of his locker, three on his windshield wipers, one of the younger students in your art class was in Hellfire with him and after swearing him to secrecy, Will had promised to deliver three to Eddie personally, without revealing your identity.  

  During lunch, you found yourself behind the stage of the cafeteria, in part of the drama department. It’s where Hellfire took place. 

  You’d been there a handful of times, only when your curiosity for the metalhead got a little too overwhelming for you and you wanted to feel closer to him without having to face him. It was only ever set up on Fridays, the day Eddie got to school early enough to do so. 

  You made your way over to sit in the chair closest to his throne, casting it a couple of nervous glances.

  This would be where you left the last rose, so of course, everything about the set up, the throne had to look daunting to you now; a representation of how you were seeing Eddie as your confession grew nearer. If things didn’t go as planned, it’d be the last time you could come here.

  The thought made your stomach hurt, a large void beginning to form there. 

  The last rose was much too personal to leave just anywhere, where someone without a key to the room would find it. No one but the Hellfire club would occupy this area today. Attached to the rose with a ribbon was a note with a simple message that meant more to you than you cared to admit. You’d written it when you first came up with your plan at the start of the week and had been debating on whether or not to sign your name since then. 

  The answer should’ve been obvious, right? This whole thing was to let Eddie know how you felt about him, and your romantic intentions were clear with the red roses. This note would finish implying the rest. And if you wanted Eddie to know it was you who admired him, you just had to write your name.

  Yeah, simple as that.

  You clicked the pen in your grasp, placing it just over the paper. 

  You wavered, licking your lips as you tried to convince yourself to just own your goddamn name. That’s all you had to do. Write on the paper.

  Just write on the paper.

  Your hand was beginning to shake, and with a heavy heart, you realized your name wouldn’t be going on this note.

  You weren’t brave enough for that. You set your purple pen down, staring down at the words written in pink ink before you rolled the paper up, making sure the ribbon was secured (you’d used a hole puncher to slip the ribbon through) and left it on the seat of the throne before scurrying out of the room as fast as you could.

  —

  Eddie was at a loss, completely stupefied.

  When he’d arrived at his history class, after having mentally prepared himself for the onslaught of boredom he’d face, he was surprised to find a single rose on his desk. By surprised, he meant incredibly suspicious. A glance around the room confirmed he wasn’t being watched, everyone was gossiping about Emmy Switcher’s upcoming party, so he’d settled into his seat and marveled at it.

  Eddie wasn’t one to ever really get things on Valentine’s Day, not counting the mandatory valentine’s cards in elementary and middle school. The last time he’d gotten a card was his first senior year, and it had been a prank by a couple of girls on the softball team and their boyfriends. Embarrassed the shit out of him. The following Valentine’s Day he’d faked being sick to avoid falling victim again—god, he craved affection so much it made him pathetic enough to still hope for something gross and cheesy to happen to him. 

A rose was harmless though, right? Unless it was poisoned or something. Eddie lifted it to his nose, but all he could pick up was the seductive floral scent and when he didn’t immediately pass out from chloroform, he figured it was just a rose.

  He glanced around again in vain, hoping someone would somehow stick out and when no one did, he held it in his grasp, rough fingertips stroking over the soft petals for the duration of the class.

  He’d been stunned when he arrived at his locker to find two roses hanging out of it. A few people were staring at him as he carefully pulled them from their place, but they looked more curious rather than shy or mischievous.  He had a feeling whoever was leaving the roses for him wasn’t around. 

  He refused to leave them in his locker, the stems clutched in his hand as he went about his day and found more. Eddie was more than proud to display them, somewhat smug at the attention they were garnishing him.

  Yeah, fuckers. Someone finally liked him. Eat shit.

  He’d spent his English class convincing himself he’d never find out exactly who this someone was. He was pretty fucking stressed after that. He tried to come up with a roster of sorts, girls he thought might be interested in him enough to maybe leave him pretty flowers and woo him right out of his Reeboks.

  He’d only been able to come up with four—impressive—but his first pick he was quick to scribble out. He hadn’t had a decent interaction with her and he figured it was creepy of him to put her at the top of the list all because of his wishful thinking. 

  The second girl listed was possible, maybe. Chrissy Cunningham. He’d had a crush on her for as long as he could remember since she was always nice to him. She’d dumped Jason a couple of months ago and he’d been dealing to her for a short amount of time, but she seemed pretty flirty to him. Although, flattery did work on him.

  The third name made him nervous, and not in a good way. Tina Sawyer. They’d both got pretty drunk at her Halloween party and hooked up in her bathroom but she avoided him like the plague afterwards, obviously embarrassed about interacting with him, which was typical for the lot of Hawkins.

  He’d been sure it was a drunken mistake but sometimes, he’d catch her staring at him, and she didn’t look all that disgusted with him.

  The last name on the short list was that of Tammy Thompson. She had made her interest in Eddie pretty clear his junior year, always trying to sit behind him in classes so she could play with his hair. Unfortunately, Tammy was very, for the lack of better words, aggressive with her affections. He’d made out with her once and it had been sloppy and messy in the most unattractive of ways. It was like tonguing a dog.. Then he remembered she’d actually been able to graduate, unlike him, so he was spared. 

  By lunch, Eddie was ready to try to figure out who his secret admirer was. Out of the two remaining girls on his list, he was leaning more towards Chrissy, who he felt wouldn’t be ashamed to hold his hand in public. 

  He and his lunchbox full of drugs—and some snacks—made their way to the Hellfire lunch table where he spent a significant amount of time studying the two girls.

  “Uh, are you okay, Eddie?”

  Eddie glanced up at the concerned face of Will Byers, who’d arrived much later than the rest of the guys and Stephanie, one of the two girls in Hellfire. The question drew the attention of the rest of the table and Eddie internally sighed.

  “Yeah, I’m fine—what are those?” Eddie asked, eyes honed in on the roses resting on Will’s tray.

  The younger teen handed them over, “A girl told me to give you these.”

  Eddie felt his heart skip a beat, “You know who she is?”

  Will nodded and before Eddie could demand a name, he rushed, “I’ve been sworn to secrecy!”

  Eddie scowled, carefully setting aside his roses so they wouldn’t be involved in his annoyance. 

  “Byers, I’m gonna level with you. I’ve been in this miserable prison for six long years. While I’ve had my fair share of hookups, I have not ever had a girl like me enough to leave me roses and do cute shit before. And I fear I never will again. That’s why I���m actually gonna need you to tell me who it is so I can have a girlfriend by the end of what is supposed to be the most god awful romantic day of the year. ‘Kay?”

  Eddie’s eyebrows dart up, face set in an intimidating glower but Will remembers how scared you looked when you trusted him with this task. He also knows, very well, how it feels to love someone without them ever knowing because you fear what their response will be. He’d also seen Eddie eyeing both Chrissy and Tina.

  Will knew what it was like to have that special person interested in someone else, too. So, he’d protect your secret.

  “I swore.”

  Eddie groaned, head dipping forward in a brief moment of defeat before he slammed his fist on the table, making the other occupants jump. 

  “Whatever, I’ll find her myself.” Just as Eddie stands, an idea occurs to him. Will said he wouldn’t tell him who it was, but the youngest Byers hadn’t said he wouldn’t tell him who it wasn’t, “Is it Tina?”

  Will shakes his head, nose wrinkling. Nothing against her, she just wasn’t the nicest to him or his friends. Not the meanest, still.

  Eddie breathes out a sigh, mumbling an oh, thank god as he makes his way to the cafeteria doors. That only left one possibility, and he was due to meet up with her in just five minutes. He couldn’t fight the grin off his face.

  ── 

  Your heart was racing a mile a minute, having witnessed everything transpire at the Hellfire table.

  You’d selected your lunch table four years ago because of the perfect view of Eddie it provided you, but right then it was killing you. You’d ruined your manicure, picking aggressively at the polish as you watched Will and Eddie, breathing out a sigh of relief when it looked like Will hadn’t revealed your identity.

  Eddie hadn’t seemed too happy about that.

  Then he stormed out and you fought very hard with yourself to not follow after him because then Heather would be right and you’d be a stalker.

  “Regret it yet?” Heather asked after she’d swallowed a bite of her sandwich. 

  “No.” You sorta lied. Yeah, you kind of regretted it but at the same time, knowing Eddie wouldn’t have to let you down gently made you less anxious. Besides, it wasn’t like you could just climb up the stage and duck past the curtain leading to the hellfire room without one of it’s members spotting you from their table. They’d tell Eddie in a heartbeat, especially if they found out the last rose and that damn note was there.

  “Sure,” Heather drawled, glancing over her shoulder as you picked at your food, appetite suddenly gone. 

  Maybe you really should have written your name on that love note. 

  “Well, I hope you mean it, because Dream Girl is on her way to meet Ice Cream.” Your head snapped up at the mention of Chrissy Cunningham and Eddie’s code names you’d given them so both you and Heather were free to talk without either of them suspecting anything. You referred to Chrissy as Dream Girl because you’d known all about Eddie’s crush on her (while Heather had been depressed about Steve and Nancy, you’d eaten your weight in ice cream over Eddie and Chrissy’s more than friendly interactions with each other, which had nothing to do with Eddie’s code name—he was ‘ice cream’ because you wanted to lick him all over).

  Sure enough, you looked over Heather’s shoulder, following her gaze to see Chrissy bidding her friends goodbye before she walked right out of the doors Eddie had pushed past minutes ago and as you watched her exit through the double doors, something inside you withers and dies a bit.

  You knew Eddie sold to her (gave her a discount because she was pretty and because of their flirting, hearing him say that made you want to drive a knife right through your chest), you and Heather had followed them out a couple of times which is how you were both aware of the flirtationship.

  After the first time you’d spied on them, the two of you had gone back to your home where Heather held a mock funeral for you. Now, you wished it had been a real one because you were sure Eddie had not only loved your roses, he also assumed they were from Chrissy. They would send him right into her arms at that shitty ass bench. And when he’d get a hold of the love note, well, you’d be the reason why Eddie and Chrissy would be hand in hand come Monday, canoodling by their lockers and kissing like no one else was watching. All the things Eddie should have been doing with you.

  You should have signed your name on the fucking note.

  ─

  Eddie had paced a pathway, disturbing the mounds of fallen leaves surrounding the picnic table. 

  His stuff, another rose he’d found waiting for him included, were on the table and he’d taken off his jacket, despite the chill of the February air. He was working himself up in his head, overheating in the process.

  “Eddie?”

  His head shot around, grinning as Chrissy—who apparently left him roses—approached him, face broken out in a smile.

  “Hey, Chris.” Eddie’s heart was racing a mile a minute, palms sweaty as he rested them over his hips, then quickly realized he looked stupid so he crossed them instead.

  She laughed at his nerves with absolutely no malice and they sat down at the bench, getting down to business. She’d been about to hand him a twenty dollar bill after he slid her the ziploc bag of nugs, but he held up his hand.

  “On the house.”

  “Eddie, it’s always on the house. I feel bad.”

  “Then stop.” He emphasized the demand with bulging eyes, smirking when she giggled. She had to like him, right?

  Eddie tried to be discreet about it, plucking one of the roses from his growing pile. He played with the stem, even sniffed the petals again in hopes she’d comment about it, maybe look a little excited about it or just give him any sort of reaction to indicate it had been her.

  Chrissy was too busy moving things aside in her backpack to make room for the baggy. When she finally did look back up, she smiled, but gave no hint she was even familiar with them.

  “Ooh, pretty flowers. Where’d you get those?”

  Was she playing coy?

  “Uh, someone’s been leaving them for me all around school.” Was it you?

  Chrissy’s face lit up and Eddie thought it was finally the moment of truth.

  “That’s so sweet! Do you know who it is? Or is it like a secret admirer sort of deal?”

  Evidently, not the moment of truth. She had to be toying with him, trying to prolong the reveal. Because if it wasn’t her, he was out of ideas. And he really, really didn’t want to be out of ideas. Not when there was someone out there, maybe thinking about him.

  “I actually have no idea who it is,” he sighed out, hoping if it was her, she’d just put him out of his damn misery already.

  Chrissy, glanced down at the table and Eddie perked up. Nerves? Was she finally gonna come out with it?

  “It wasn’t me, Eddie…but, I wish it had been.”

  Eddie didn’t know what to say, mouth dropped open a little as his eyebrows quirked up in surprise.

  Okay. Hadn’t been expecting that. He was expecting a yes it was me or a no it wasn’t me but not Chrissy confirming it hadn’t been her while also telling him she liked him. 

  “So, you haven’t been leaving them for me?”

  Chrissy shook her head and reached across the table to place her smaller hand over his, palm warm against his skin. Eddie’s eyes squeezed shut as he groaned, head falling forward to rest against the table.

  “Eddie?” Chrissy asked, concern lacing her voice.

  He let out a very long sigh, a little miffed at how messy this whole thing had gotten. Now, there was his, Chrissy’s and someone else’s feelings in the mix. Christ.

  “‘M’sorry, Chrissy.” Eddie sat up straight, face grim as he slowly pulled his hand out from underneath hers. “You’re great, fantastic, actually. You’re really nice and really pretty, but… I’ve been going crazy all day, trying to figure out who’s behind these.”

  He gestures to the roses at his side, the sight of them filling him with an intense wave of longing.

  “It’s been like years since I’ve gotten anything with real meaning behind it for any occasion—” he wasn’t counting the hellfire club or Wayne, referring to romantic intentions—“let alone Valentine’s Day, and someone in this school seems to be thinking about me.” 

  Eddie thought about what it must have taken to do something like this, it may have seemed like a trivial thought, something simple to others. He knew it wasn’t. He had no idea who it was, but he put himself in their position. They had to know enough about him to know his schedule, where he spent time, and then make the time to leave them in those spots just before he got there. 

  He’d spent the time waiting for Chrissy considering the anonymity of it. On the chance it wasn’t her, there was someone else in the school who was too afraid to approach him directly. He’d thought it might be out of fear of being seen with him, seen doing anything remotely romantic with him. Then, why even bother? They had to be afraid of his reaction, it’s what he would be nervous about if the positions were flipped.

  And god, he’d never felt more alive before, more seen and all it took was a couple of roses. He felt like those fawning girls in John Hughes movies. 

  “Before today, I never would have approached you about this, you know? I know we flirt, but I never would have been brave enough to cross that line.” He admitted, looking into her shiny blue eyes. Aw, man. Eddie hated making girls cry but it was true, he would have been waiting for her to make a move, or for Tina to make a move. Any of his past hookups, really. He’d have been with any of them—having craved affection and everything that came with it so bad—if they had just been the ones to initiate things on a more permanent basis. 

  He would have. Past tense. They could all form a conga line and confess their undying love for him but, unless they were the one who left him the roses—the one who made him brave enough to actually go around confronting people in an attempt to seek her out—he’d let them down. 

  “She made me brave, makes me feel really wanted and I don't even know who she is. It’s not you, it’s just─”

  “I’m not her.” Chrissy finished for him, wiping under one of her eyes. “It’s alright, Eddie. I mean, I’m obviously a little sad, but it’s not your fault or hers. I do hope you find her, though. She’d be lucky to have you.”

  She gave Eddie a sad smile, making him feel even guiltier but it’d be pretty shitty of him to try to be with her when he’d be thinking of someone else.

  “Thanks, Chrissy.” Eddie stood up and gathered his things. It was clear she was upset and would probably need some time to gather herself, he didn’t want to force her to leave first or linger around and make it awkward.

  He left her with a small, parting smile, relieved that he hadn’t charged her. Would have felt like a douchebag to make her pay for weed and turn her down in the span of five minutes when she’d been nothing but pleasant to him.

  Eddie shook it off, determination setting in once more. Sure, he was back to the drawing board, but if all else failed, he could corner young Byers again until he finally gave him a name.

  He’d come up with a pretty good list of ways he could force Will to give up the name by the time school let out and he got to the Hellfire room.

  It wasn’t until he set his little bouquet and the lunchbox down (he didn’t bother with backpacks, just shoved whatever he needed in his pants pockets or the box), walking around the throne in a circle like some fucking animal because he was so restless, that he saw the rose.

  The flash of white had caught his eyes and he dove down to grab it, trying to be as careful with pulling the piece of paper away from the stem of the rose, only he realized whoever left it had hole punched the thing together so he ripped the ribbon with his teeth rather than rip the note.

  The ribbon was stuffed into his back pocket as he eagerly sat himself down, rose clutched in one hand and the note in his other.

  Eddie,

  Please excuse my lack of eloquence in this note and also in our real life encounters.

  Eddie felt a shiver of excitement wash over his skin, cheeks a bright shade of pink at the confirmation he’d indeed interacted with his secret admirer before. Fuck, she’d talked to him! It made her feel even more real. 

  She was a real person, someone he could probably hold hands with and kiss. Unless, this was done in a purely platonic way which would be a little fucked up. Red roses to be friends? C’mon. He read on.

  I hoped you liked the flowers. I was actually debating on getting you different ones, something a little more personalized to you, but I ended up going with roses because, well, they convey romance better.

  Eddie leaned over the arm of the throne, sagging back as he allowed himself to completely collapse with relief. Just for a few seconds, then his eyes were glued to the pink penmanship.

  I’m trying really hard not to sound creepy because I’m totally not creepy and I know what you're thinking, ‘that’s what a creep would say’ but I swear I’m not, I just. I admire you. A lot. I have for so, so long. I admire the way you keep going, even when things are absolute shit for you, I like how you watch out for the younger classmen that come in and don’t really have anywhere to go. I like the way you dress, how pretty your hair is (even when it’s frizzy which is so unfair), how passionate you get with your rants (even though sometimes you’re an asshole about it). 

  And I like your laugh I LOVE your laugh. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve had what feels like the worst fucking day of my life and I’m ready to breakdown and cry and scream, but I don’t. Because I can hear you laugh your ass off at something one of your friends said in the cafeteria, by your locker or even when you’re just walking past me. And I wish I was there, laughing alongside you or making you laugh. I don’t know how your laughter makes me feel better, it just does. I get all smiley and I feel warm inside and I want to give you a hug for it, for making me feel better without even trying. 

  But I can’t. You kind of scare me. Not in the mean, scary way, I’m just not sure you’ll like me. Or that it’ll go anywhere, or even if it should. 

  You’re so confident, Eddie. And you’re stupid attractive (you are, and I’m sure you’re aware but I’ll go ahead and tell you I’m also physically attracted to you) and it’s so overwhelming that I can’t contain it anymore and I don’t really want to. We only have a couple of months before we’re out of here (I have a feeling this is gonna be your year, you’ll be free of this sentence, too), and I don’t want to have any regrets. The only way I’d ever regret you is by not telling you how I feel. 

  So, here I am, Eddie Munson. Never thought I’d ever be confessing like this, but for the first time in my life, I feel brave. And it’s all because of you. Thank you, Eddie. I’ll be running around— dodging teachers and detention write ups— like Rocky in his training montages to get these roses to you because you deserve your flowers and I’d be delighted to give them to you today, and every single Valentine’s Day after. Actually, I want to give you even more than that. If you’ll have me.

  Love,

  What the fuck?

  Eddie hastily searched the bottom portion of the back side of the paper, where the note ended for a signature, a name, initials, something but that’s where it ended.

   There was no name.

  “NO! FUCK! NO! No, no, no, no, NO! I’ll have you, take me, just tell me who you are!” Eddie groaned out, note dropped into his lap so he could clench the roots of his hair with both fists as he doubled over.

  This had to be a nightmare. It was the only reasonable explanation for someone to say all those wonderfuckingful things, just for them to disappear. 

  His heart hurt and he blinked frantically to ward off the onslaught of water and sniffed to deter the tingle in his nose. 

  The unmistakable sound of his own little rat pack making their way towards the room wasn’t enough to get him to pull himself together.

  “Eddie, dude, are you okay?”

  Eddie recalled his final option, head shooting to glance around at their faces in search of one in particular. 

  “Byers. Where’s Byers?”

  “His mom picked him up after lunch, wasn’t feeling good,” Mike informed him, completely unaware his grand Valentine’s gesture for Jane had been the cause of his sudden illness. 

  It was the final straw for Eddie, he snatched the lunchbox and flowers and grumbled out, “Sessions canceled.”

  He must have looked pissed as none of them protested, probably having something to do with most of them having dates afterwards. 

  He almost made it out of the room when Gareth called him back, holding up a purple pen he’d found on the table and figured Eddie was about to forget.

  “Is this yours?”

  Eddie scoffed and rolled his eyes. 

  “No.” Then he walked out.

  Before promptly storming back in, swiping the pen out of Gareth’s meaty hands. Eddie clicked the pen and scribbled furiously over the side of his fist until the ink finally ran. It wasn’t purple. The ink filler was pink.

  His secret admirer’s pen.

  “What a cruel parting gift,” he sighed, shoving the pen in his pocket before making his exit. Again.

  The really sad thing was Eddie couldn’t even sink into depression in the peace of his room. Emmy Switcher had approached Rick about wanting some herbal refreshments at her party and since he was still under house arrest (how Rick managed to deal and supply in his circumstances baffled him) the job fell upon Eddie. He’d driven to Rick’s restocked, then hit the party. 

  It was a horn fest, couples everywhere he looked. All heart-eyed and attached at the tongue. It was disgusting.

  Eddie was pouting, quietly fuming that it wasn’t him and his secret admirer making out or cuddling or doing something equally romantic but noooooo. Just had to take the ‘secret’ aspect to its extreme. 

  He banished himself to a dark corner, only interacting with people when approached for drugs or weed. He’d caught sight of Chrissy and it had looked like she wanted to come over but he’d purposely shifted his gaze. Despite the gaping hole left where his heart was, it wasn’t Chrissy or Tina, or the girl in the upstairs restroom, who’d thrown herself at him when he’d been searching for a free bathroom to piss in, that he wanted. Eddie wasn’t in the mood to rebound.

  Which was kind of crazy considering he hadn’t even been in a relationship, hadn’t been dumped. He wanted everything in that note, especially the promise of more and only with its author. 

  Now, Eddie hadn’t been in love before. Some serious lust and want, yeah, however, reading that note made him feel like he was falling a little bit in love and he wanted, very badly, to dive headfirst the rest of the way. Clearly, that wasn’t going to happen.

  Once he’d sold out the rest of Rick’s inventory, he stole a beer and headed for the front door. 

  Once outside, Eddie took a minute to breathe. He hadn’t realized how stuffy it had been in there until he was no longer engulfed by the claustrophobic displays of affection. 

  He trudged down the pathway and paused when he saw the figure of a girl sitting on the lawn. Her head was directed down towards the ground and she was most definitely not wearing the right clothes for the outside weather.

  Eddie cursed under his breath, plans to immediately drive home and get crossed put on hold as he walked over, noting the dew already coating the grass.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  ─

  Drinking your sorrows away probably wasn’t the best idea, considering how much of a lightweight you were. 

  Originally, you’d wanted to lock yourself away in your room for the night—and probably the rest of the weekend as well as maybe the next school week; nothing wrong with playing sick to avoid facing reality and your problems─to cry and pass out. Heather, on the other hand, had plans for you. She’d dolled you up, having to force you to wash your face and re-do your makeup once when you had started crying—put you in a cute outfit and dragged you to Emmy Switcher’s party. 

  You knew her intentions were pure—as pure as underage drinking could be—but she knew her mistake when the party started to couple up. You’d been approached multiple times and she’d try to encourage you to go for the decent acting ones, you just hadn’t wanted to. When Chrissy Cunningham showed up, you’d gone for shots of the hard liquor (over the sink of course in case you gagged it up, which you did a decent amount of), sure that Eddie would soon follow and you’d be forced to witness their affection.

  Obviously, you ended up shitfaced and somehow lost track of Heather. Or maybe she lost track of you. You’d very briefly attempted to find her, accidentally spotted Chrissy, now making eyes at Eddie who’d shown up, and you’d promptly headed outside, eager for some fresh air and an escape from the madhouse. The high alcohol level in your blood kept you from feeling how chilly it really was and you settled into the grass, twirling strands of it around your fingers.

  You weren’t sure how long you were out there when someone approached you.

  “Hey, you okay?”

  You looked up, ready to ask them to just leave you when you locked eyes with Eddie Munson. Most of the liquid courage coursing through your veins evaporated, you couldn’t look at him for long, gaze moving back to the grass. What a way to start sobering up.

  “I’m fine.”

  “You sure? ‘Cause,” Eddie sat down next to you, one leg crossed and his other, knee up with his arm resting over it. His unopened beer was at his side, “You’re outside, alone, in the cold and you look pretty fucking sad.”

  You scoffed, fingers still playing with the strands of grass as you tried to think of something to say that wouldn’t make you seem pathetic. In that time, Eddie took you in.

  He knew you, he’d seen you around school and you were nice enough to greet him. Pleasantries in passing. Pretty Hallway Girl, as you’d been dubbed—though never referred to as—until he knew your name. It had been the first one he had jotted down on his list for his secret admirer’s identity, of course he realized with your lack of interactions, it wasn’t likely. He entertained the idea of dating you often, you’d just never shown any real interest in him. Eddie thought about it a lot. Anytime he caught sight of you, really. Your pretty face didn’t make it easy for him to stop. He was a really, really big sucker for your eyes and that smile you’d give him during those brief interactions; like the two of you had some sort of secret between each other. Warmed him up inside.

  And here you were, all sad at a party. He didn’t really mind not getting crossed if it meant he got to comfort you, keep you company.

  “I’m just drunk,” you finally blurted out, unable to come up with anything else, “And bummed.” 

  Try devastated.

  “You look it,” he joked, nudging his shoulder against yours.

  “You don’t look that much better.” You shot back.

  “That’s fair,” he sighed, breath visible in the night air as he tilted his head back. “I’m pretty bummed, myself.”

  You really didn’t want to ask, figuring he’d already had some sort of lover’s quarrel with Chrissy and you didn’t want to get in the middle of it. 

  But you were an idiot, so you asked, “Why are you bummed?”

  You watched him dig around the pockets of his leather jacket, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. He pulled one out of the pack, clenching it in between his teeth as he shoved the pack back into the pocket before he shrugged off the jacket entirely—denim vest included—putting it around your shoulders.

  It caught you off guard but you were grateful, your body having decided to become once more susceptible to the chill of the air and dewy grass. Eddie must have been a freaking space heater because the lining inside was blissfully warm.

  “Thank you,” you mumbled, shimmying around in it until you could slip your arms into the long sleeves of it, your fingers barely poking past the hem.

  “You’re welcome,” he shrugged, flicking the lighter to life as he lit the cigarette. After he’d taken a drag, he answered you. 

  “Love,” Eddie blew out along with a wispy plume of smoke, “Didn’t expect it to be so complicated.”

  You wanted to mime the action of staking yourself in the heart. Of course he was in love with her. She was wonderful! And on top of that, he thought she’d been the one leaving him roses! Had he read the note? Assumed it was her, too? DUH! You were definitely playing sick next week.

  “Yeah, well. Join the club,” you grumbled, hugging his jacket around you. It was as close as you were ever gonna get to actually hugging him. 

  Eddie raised an eyebrow, hoping to school his disappointment. While he wasn’t looking for anyone else tonight, it was still displeasing to hear you were taken but of course you were. He couldn’t imagine you dating sporadically, you seemed much too wonderful for someone to even consider giving you up. No, he was gonna hurt himself with ideas involving you and a high school sweetheart stemming back to your freshman days, probably.

  “Ah, I see. Is he here?”

  You froze for a moment, “Uhm, yeah. He is.”

  “Then why come? Or did it happen in there?” He jabbed a thumb behind him, gesturing to the party inside.

  “No, it didn’t happen tonight, it was earlier. In the day. I didn’t really want to come but my best friend dragged me out here. I thought I was doing good, apparently not ‘cause here I am. I’m mostly bummed because of myself, though. I didn’t follow through on something I sort of promised myself and I messed everything up. For me. Not for him. I think he’s pretty happy, so I don’t want to ruin that. He deserves to be happy.”

  Eddie could tell you meant it, you were vague as hell but whatever you’d done, however it ended, you genuinely seemed to want your boyfriend (ex-boyfriend?) to be happy. He hoped it wasn’t something you had to cave into for one of those meatheads. You deserved better than those jerks.

  “That’s pretty selfless of you if you ask me,” Eddie raised the cigarette to his lips, admiring you.

  “Eh, I guess. I fully plan on punishing myself for it, though. Really make sure to rub the salt in there, you know?” You finally turned to grin at him, despite the sinking feeling in your stomach.

  Eddie thought about how he couldn’t just stop going to school so he could avoid having to look at all the faces in the crowds and wonder if his admirer is one of them.

  “Oh, sweetheart, I’m right there with you.”

  Sweetheart. He really was trying to kill you.

  “Eddie, get your ass in there and make up with her.” You lightly slapped his arm and jabbed your finger in the direction of the house. You were not about to let your sacrifice be in vain and he’d better stop unknowingly torturing you like this.

  “I can’t!” He laughed, amused with your sudden bossy attitude.

  “Why not?” You whined, eager to just get him away from you. It wasn’t fair, he wasn’t being fair.

  “Because I have no idea who she is.”

  Once again you froze, eyes widening. Luckily for you, Eddie didn’t look too much into your reaction. He figured most people would be surprised over him nursing a heartbreak from someone he didn’t quite actually know, or was aware that he knew.

  “What?” You asked, trying to seem as uninterested as possible as you played with the ends of his jacket sleeves.

  “Fuck it. Someone left me roses all around the school and this really amazing love note.” For a moment, Eddie entertained the idea of trying to convey exactly what it meant to him, then he thought better of it. He’d either seem crazy, desperate or like some pathetic guy in love (which, he kind of was on the cusp of), “Pretty sure it was a girl.”

  Not a single dude in the high school was romantic enough to pull it off, maybe leave him an entire bouquet, but not expand upon it like she had.

  Eddie licked his lips, raising the cigarette to them once more and ready to admit that he had no fucking clue who she was, but he figured he might as well make one last rally.

  “Wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”

  “Not me,” you lied flawlessly, with a gentle shake of your head. “Sorry, Eddie.”

  Sorry I’m a big liar because HOLY FUCKING SHIT, wasn’t expecting that. 

  “I figured. Still had to try, your boyfriend probably would have kicked my ass, though.” Yeah, Eddie hated Valentine’s Day.

  He stubbed the cigarette out into the wet grass, and laid the rest of the way down, hands covering his eyes as the back of his head met the ground.

  You frowned down at him. 

  “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

  Hello. 

  Eddie peaked at you through his fingers, “No?”

  You shook your head and as Eddie moved to push himself back up, he yelped.

  He shifted onto his side, digging around his pocket for whatever it was that stabbed him.

  “Ouch,” He hissed, yanking the purple pen out. “Damn, that hurt like a bitch.” 

  Your eyes squinted at it in suspicion.

  “Is that my pen?”

  “Huh?”

  “My favorite—and pricey—pen. I lost it at school today.” In fact, you were sure you had and you were sure that was your pen. You’d broken off the clip of it by accident and you recognized the large crack in the body of it, having once given into an intrusive thought regarding whether or not you had the strength to break it while you were bored in class. You did have the strength and luckily for you, it still worked. 

  When Eddie made no move to give your pen back, you figured he didn’t believe you so you added, “The ink is pink, right?”

  Eddie continued to stare at you, mouth slightly parted in awe, and you suddenly felt very nervous, glancing behind you to see if there was something that caught his attention but all you could see were the empty lawns.

  “What?” 

  He finally blinked, licking his lips again. 

  “You’re a really good liar.”

  “What?” You repeated, this time your question was laced more so with confusion than panic. He was right, but why was he saying that?

  His lips slowly parted up at the corners until he was grinning at you so wide, his dimples were showing and you could feel your heart beating wildly against your rib cage, as if it was trying to break free to fly right over to him.

  “This is your pen?”

  “Yes!” Is that what his happiness was about? That he was holding your prized pen hostage?

  “This is your pen?” You could tell he was having fun at your expense now, getting more giddy by the minute.

  “Yes!” You laughed out, his joy contagious even if he was teasing you with your own belongings. “That is my pen. Give me my pen!”

  He clicked it closed with his thumb, “I found it where we hold Hellfire sessions, same pen that was used to write my love note.”

  And just like that, your heartbeat seemed to stop all together, smile dropping instantly as you wished a giant hole could form in the ground below you and swallow you up.

  “That’s not my pen,” you denied, shrugging off his jacket as you quickly rose to your feet. “I gotta go, bye, Eddie.”

  When you saw him starting to hastily rise, you bolted, literally running back into the house to try to find Heather and get the hell out of there.

  You heard Eddie frantically calling your name but you didn’t stop, forcing your way through the bodies as you desperately searched for your best friend.

  Luck was finally on your side because you were soon smashed into her back by a passing group.

  “Whoa,” she laughed, turning to steady you, “There you are, I’ve been searching for you everywh—hey, what’s wrong?”

  You were sure she must have noticed the panic on your face, eyes shiny with tears you refused to let fall in public. 

  “I wanna go home, we have to leave.” You grabbed her hand, pulling her into a secluded corner as your head darted in the direction of the front door. You wanted to make a run for it but you feared running into Eddie on the way.

  “What happened?” Heather asked, voice initially soft before hardening as her protective nature came out, “Did someone do something?” 

  You shook your head, chest heaving with your breaths. You were so close to having a panic attack. 

  “Eddie. He knows. He knows, Heather.” And because she was your best friend, she understood, mouth and eyes going wide.

  “Holy crap. Wait—isn’t this what you wanted?” 

  “No—yes—I don’t know! I can’t face him!” There was a reason you hadn’t written your name down on the note, regardless of how badly you wanted to. You were just scared.

  “Why not?” She bent down, leaned in closer to hear you. This girl and her twenty questions.

  “It doesn’t matter, he didn’t want it to be me, anyways. He would’ve asked earlier, and he only did it now because of that stupid pen!” You should have kept your mouth shut and just gone to buy another over the weekend, “Can we just please get out of here? We can try the side gate in the backyard.”

  “Is Eddie looking for you?”

  “Yes, that’s why we have to leave!” Whatever Eddie had to say, you didn’t want to hear it. Yeah, maybe he could want you but if he didn’t, was searching for you to let you down gently you’d be heartbroken. 

  “He knows and you don’t think he wanted it to be you?”

  “Yes!”

  “Then why would he be looking for you?”

  You refused to answer her, pushing her towards the back door instead. She went willingly for a few steps, then Heather stopped and you bumped into her back again as she craned her neck to look over her shoulder. 

  “I think it's too late for that.” She pointed at something behind you and you followed her finger. 

  Eddie was standing on top of the kitchen table a bunch of guys had carried into the living room to play beer pong on, eyes searching the room with his lips set in a frown.

  He was attracting attention, a multitude of heads turning to peer up at him in curiosity.

  Oh, god. He was looking for you, you were probably going to get rejected at a fucking Valentine’s Day party in some stranger’s living room.

  Eddie must have caught the attention of someone near the sound system because the volume of the music was lowered and you could hear everyone muttering amongst themselves, asking what had happened to the music before they noticed Eddie.

  He glanced around, not even a little nervous at the amount of people staring at him. He hadn’t planned on making a huge show of it, figured they were all too drunk to pay him any attention, luckily he was used to being a spectacle. 

  Eddie used it to his advantage, calling out your full name.

  The crowd muttered, everyone looking at each other in confusion or maybe trying to catch sight of you. 

  It wasn’t long before someone recognized you, head turning in your direction, followed by many more—a domino effect—until just about everyone was staring at you, including Eddie.

  He hopped off the table and made his way towards you, crowd parting to allow him. Heather slipped her hand into yours at your side, giving you a reassuring squeeze before she too stepped away, leaving you to finally face Eddie.

  Eddie didn’t look at anyone else, gaze trained solely on you.

  “Hi, again.”

  You blinked, unable to keep yourself from glancing at the crowd around you, curious—nosey—to see what would happen next.

  Guess you were going to have to finally face reality, no more running. You didn’t think you could break through the crowd, anyways.

  “Hi,” you whispered but you knew Eddie had heard you, his lips pursed into a smile, eyes lighting up when you didn’t shut down.

  “You ran away before I could tell you how I feel.” Eddie took another step, pretty much invading your personal space but he was desperate to be close to you and maybe body block you in case you tried to flee. He didn’t want you to run away again, to disappear like he feared you had when you hadn’t left your name on the note.

  “It’s only fair right? Since I know?”

  You nodded again, the drum of your heartbeat loud in your ears. You were surprised you could hear Eddie over it.

  Eddie stared down at you, lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t look upset or frustrated. It looked like he was thinking about something.

  Little did you know he was reciting the note in his head to give him some courage, he’d memorized it.

  He didn’t leave you waiting for long. 

  “I admire you. A lot.” Your breath hitched as the words you’d jotted down were repeated to you, “So much that I want to stand on expensive looking, antique tables and crash parties for you. I like the way you get animated when you talk, the way you give into your intrusive thoughts at the most random of times—yeah, I saw you trying to see if your finger fit in the pencil sharpener in the library once—I like how kind you are, even when people don’t deserve it. 

  “I like how you’ve never made me feel ostracized, never made anybody feel like that and I like how dramatic you are—storming off, making an exit, falling flat on your face in hallways then staying there like a dead body before you decide to reanimate again once you’re done being embarrassed. I like how you beat up your locker when it won’t open and then you give it a couple of pats to apologize once it finally does.”

  Eddie chuckled at those particular memories, having been thoroughly amused when watching you and you feel your face get hot at being the cause of his cute laugh.

  “And I really like your face, your pretty eyes, all of this,” Eddie gestured to you, to all of you from head to toe, “… you’re beautiful. Although, I gotta say, you drove me really fucking crazy today. Made me feel emotions I didn’t know I was capable of feeling and you scared the shit out of me when I thought I’d never get to know who the person I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with is.”

  Okay, maybe you didn’t want the ground to swallow you whole.

  “I know we only have a couple of months left of school and you’re probably going off to continue being amazing at some college in some big city a million miles away—‘cause that’s my luck—but I’m willing to work with that. I want to drive those million miles to give you flowers and hold your hand, kiss you, listen to you complain about your bad days, hear you brag about your good ones, kill all the bugs you’re afraid of—even though some of them freak me out, you make me feel brave, too—and just be all around disgustingly domestic with you. 

  “And yes, that includes all the not so fun domestic stuff like fights—which we’ll get over, I’ll do just about anything, even cave first, if you give me those big, coy eyes of yours—and taxes. I want to do it all with you. If you’ll have me.” Eddie ended, eyes wide and just a little out of breath. 

  There it was. He’d thrown it all out there, everything he wanted to offer (because he wanted to give you everything, even though it kind of terrified him).

  And you—you were just staring at him, left to gape at him since you’d expected… well, you hadn’t really known what to expect since you usually ran from the consequences—be they good or bad—of your actions. 

  He wanted to be with you. Holy crap, Eddie Munson wanted to be your boyfriend. Wanted to do boyfriend things like visit you at college and hold your hand. You’d thought, the whole time, it had just been you observing him. You never thought he’d be observing you, too. It all sounded too good to be true, you couldn’t really think, couldn’t really form words.

  You didn’t have to, Eddie grew anxious, maybe even a little impatient despite having decided the moment you’d run away from him in the front yard that he’d chase after you for as long as it took him to get you to give him a chance.

  He found himself blurting out his strongest desire, “Can I kiss you?”

  This was it, you were faced with another opportunity, and this one was the actual last opportunity you had to tell him how you feel, without any anonymity. No more hiding, no more running.

  “Yeah,” you breathed out and he was on you before you’d even finished saying that singular word, his surprisingly soft lips pressing desperately against yours as his hands moved to frame your face, one of his thumbs stroking along your cheek.

  Your eyelids fluttered shut as you returned the kiss and just like that, what he intended to be a simple but firm kiss, turned into your lips moving against each other, a little wet and enough to have Eddie want to pop his leg up like in the fucking movies.

  The only reason he kept himself from introducing his tongue to yours like he so badly wanted to was the sounds of encouragement around him; cheering and hollering. You broke away, having also heard your peers whooping and wolf whistling, to hide your face in his chest, bashfulness returning full force.

  Eddie laughed and kissed the top of your head, unable to contain his grin and joy. He definitely wasn’t used to this, more accustomed to jeering, not cheering. A couple of people even clapped him on the shoulder.

  “You know what, I think they’re rooting for us, sweetheart.”

  You pulled away just enough to look up at him, offering a small, pleased smile of your own.

  “They’re not the only ones.”

  Well, he had to give you some tongue for that one. The cheering and sounds of excitement got louder as he did.

— 

You hadn’t walked into school hand in hand with Eddie when Monday came around—though you’d spent pretty much the entire weekend with him, driving around town, lounging around your room (he’d come in through your window) and making out—he hadn’t mentioned anything about meeting up in the parking lot and you weren’t offended in the slightest. While you wanted to see him, you appreciated the extra time to calm your excited nerves before you did. 

  Heather ran up to you the second you made it to your locker, grin stretching from ear to ear. 

  “I still can’t believe it. It didn’t even happen to me and I’m pinching myself because of how romantic it was!”

  “Imagine how I feel,” You were all smiles as you turned the combination for your locker. But of course, since it was openly known as one of, if not, the shittiest of lockers in the school—having belonged to several wrestlers and football players before you, who’d evidently cared for it on the rough side—it didn't budge when you tugged at it.

  You wouldn’t miss it when you graduated. 

  With a sigh, you pulled the straps of your backpack off of your shoulders and handed it to Heather. Then, you yanked aggressively at the small locker handle. It was your routine though, so you knew it wouldn’t open then, either. It was only when you slammed your fist against it, after all the yanking, that it opened.

  Roses immediately flooded out of it, piling onto the ground at your feet. You and Heather watched with open mouths, glancing at passersby, who also looked on in surprise, until your stuffed locker finally finished its floral avalanche.

  “Like ‘em?”

  You jumped up, and then internally scolded yourself for almost trampling a couple of your flowers. You carefully twisted around to face Eddie, who was leaning back against the row of lockers behind you, smug smirk on his handsome face.

  “Yeah, what are all of these for?” You asked, still marveling at them as he pushed himself off the lockers to wrap his arms around your middle and press a kiss to the side of your head.

  “I realized I never got to ask you to be my Valentine or give you flowers. So, I bought some Saturday morning,” They were on sale so he’d gone purposely overboard, “used my uncle’s collection of mugs as vases to keep them alive, then woke up at the asscrack of dawn this morning to get here before you did. I probably broke your locker even more, by the way. So, be my Valentine?”

“I’m pretty sure it was part of the terms and agreements of our relationship, but yes. I’ll be your Valentine.”

Eddie closed your locker for you, pressing his weight against it to make sure it was secure and no more roses would escape before he scooped up the ones that had fallen out, arranging them into a large bouquet which he handed to you, leaning in to give you a kiss.

  You hummed happily against his lips, nose wrinkling in glee when you felt him smile.

  Eddie let out a content sigh when you parted before glancing to his side at your gawking best friend.

  “Hey, Heather.” Eddie wasn’t at all bothered by the audience. “Nice shoes.”

  “Thanks! They’re new. You done sucking face?”

  “For now,” he promised, then turned his attention back to you. “I’ll see you later, beautiful. I’ve got a test to barely pass. Gotta make sure I walk that stage with you.”

  Eddie pinched your cheek, pressed another kiss to your forehead and rushed off down the hall. You’d barely locked eyes with Heather when Eddie came running back, taking your face in his hands as he muttered something about one more and gave you a kiss that had you a little shaky on your feet.

  ‘One more’ actually turned out to mean a couple more pecks before he really forced himself away, blowing you a kiss just as he disappeared around the corner.

  “He’s whipped,” Heather stated.

  “Pretty sure I’m falling in love with him.”

  “That’s appropriate.” You both nodded before you turned to face your closed locker, arms full of sweet smelling roses. 

  “. . .  You still need to get your books, don’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  Heather slid her arms through the straps of your backpack, over her front, so she could hold your flowers for you as you prepared to battle your locker again. It was totally worth it.

—

  Eddie never ended up giving you your pen back, it’s the one he used to write love letters to you while you were away at college.  

[allthelovehes]

Easter Egg Hunt

Summary: Just a little blurb about Harry and Y/N having an easter egg hunt with their little niece.

Pairing: Harry x reader

Word count: 1.3K

Warnings: Pure fluff

Taglist: @justmystyles @bitchybabyharry @harrysslut7 @swiftmendeshoran @lucasandharold @harrysbabycherry @htaylor18 @rose-garden-dreamz @myalovesharry @mellamolayla @hsonlyangelxo @yousunshineyoutempter @heartateasee @blueheisenbergtragedy Let me know if you want to be added to my taglist! 🤗

Support my work by joining my Patreon!

A/N: My plan is to post content every weekday for the next four weeks so bear with me lol. We are starting off slow ;)

Masterlist

“Let's get these.” Harry says as he picks up a bag of small Easter eggs. He is so excited for this year's Easter as Gemma's daughter, Hailey, is finally old enough to go hunting for Easter eggs.

“Those are way too small for her.” Y/N says and points at the package he has in hand. “Here, try these. They're just the right size.” She then hands him another bag that has bigger chocolate eggs.

“These will look huge in her tiny hands.” He laughs and puts pack in their cart. “What else do we need?”

“Baskets.” Y/N says and starts to push the cart towards the next aisle.

“I'll grab a few. Do you want the wicker ones or plastic?”

“I think we should go with plastic they last longer.” She looks over at him. “And then we can still use them when we have kids.”

Harry's head snaps up to meet her eyes. “Really?” His voice cracks as he asks.

“Well yeah, I mean one day. We talked about this and I thought that was the plan.”

“We are, but I didn't know if you were ready to talk about having kids.” He says as he picks up some of the plastic baskets.

“It's not like we have to do it right away. But we should be thinking about it. We should probably start looking for a new house before we start a family.”

“Y/N.” Harry says, stopping her from grabbing any more candy and pulling her into his chest. “Are you serious? Are we really going to start looking for houses and have a family?”

“If that's what you want.” She smiles up at him and then looks back over at their cart. “Do you think that's enough candy?”

“Oh god, Hailey is going to eat all of these and then throw up all night.” He laughs and wraps his arm around her shoulders as they make their way back towards the cashier.

“I'm sure Gemma will have enough common sense to not let her eat them all at once.”

“She is her mother's daughter, so I wouldn't be so sure.”

Y/N giggles and shakes her head. “Maybe you're right, but she's a kid, they're supposed to have candy.”

***

It's Easter morning and they are on their way to Gemma's house for the big hunt. Y/N is holding the basket in her lap and playing with the ribbon while Harry drives. He's been watching her out of the corner of his eye and is smiling the entire time.

“What's on your mind, love?”

“How cute our kids are going to be. Hailey is such a cutie and I can't wait until we have one.”

“Yeah.” Harry sighs. “Me too.”

“Have you thought anymore about moving?”

“I have. I'm not sure if I want to live in London anymore. I was thinking we could find a house near Gemma, so our little one can grow up with their cousin.”

“Harry, that would be so sweet. I bet Gemma would love that.”

“Me too.”

“Okay, so after Easter we should start looking.”

“Deal.” Harry smiles and pulls the car to a stop.

Gemma is standing in the driveway with a smile and waves to them. Little Hailey is standing beside her, excited to welcome her favourite uncle and aunt.

“Uncle Harry!” Hailey yells as she comes running towards them. Harry jumps out of the car and kneels down with his arms wide open for her. She runs straight into his arms and wraps her little ones around his neck.

“Happy Easter, Bunny.” Harry says and hugs her tightly.

“Where's my hug, sweet girl?” Y/N says with her arms outstretched.

“Aunt Y/N!” Hailey smiles and lets go of Harry. She walks over to her and gives her a quick hug. Y/N wraps her arms around her and picks her up to carry her inside.

“Wow, you're getting big, aren't you?”

“My mummy said I'll be as tall as you soon.”

“Oh, did she?” Y/N laughs and nods her head.

“I can't wait. I can't wait for the egg hunt, and then the chocolate.”

“Are you sure you're not excited about the chocolate?” Y/N laughs and sets her back down when they get into the living room.

Harry goes into the backyard after he greets Michal. Anne and Darren are supposed to arrive any second now and knowing how excited Hailey is, he wants to have the hunt set up so they're ready to go. He scatters the eggs and hides a few little stuffed bunnies for Hailey to find.

“Look at my pretty girl.” Anne says as she enters the living room. Hailey's face lights up when she sees her grandma and she rushes over to her. 

“Granny!”

“Hey, baby. How's my beautiful girl doing?” Anne picks her up and kisses her cheek.

“She's excited for the egg hunt.” Gemma says. “You're the last ones here, so let's get it started.”

“Where's Uncle Harry?”

“He's setting up outside. Are you ready?” Y/N explains and Hailey nods her head as she squirms in her grandmother's arms. Anne carries her outside and Harry greets his family. Most of the treasures are hidden in plain sight as Hailey is only three, so he didn't want to make it too difficult for her.

“Ready, Bunny?” Harry says as Anne puts her with both feet on the ground.

“Yes!” She beams before her little feet start running towards the first egg she sees. Everyone takes a seat and watches Hailey scurry around the yard, picking up every egg she can find. Harry makes sure to stick close to her, in case she trips he is right there to pick her up. Every time she finds an egg she runs over to show someone. When she finds a small bunny she squeals and runs over to Y/N to show her.

“Oh wow! That's a really good find.”

“Thank you.” Hailey smiles and then takes off again.

When all the eggs are found, Harry brings the basket full of candy inside and Hailey sits down on the floor. All the adults gather around her and watch as she digs through her basket. She picks up each egg, inspects it, and then sets it back down. Her little tongue is sticking out as she concentrates. She does the same thing with each and every egg. She's so focused on finding the biggest one, not even the chocolate is tempting her.

“Hailey, what are you doing?” Gemma asks as she sits down beside her.

“Trying to find the bestest egg.”

Y/N is helping Anne in the kitchen to prepare the Easter brunch. They are keeping an eye on the ham in the oven while the rest of the food is on the stove. Darren is sitting at the island drinking his coffee while Harry and Michal are setting the table.

“Mummy, it's hard!” Hailey whines and pouts her lips.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?”

“I can't open it.”

“Let's save it for after we have some proper food.” Gemma tells her, taking the chocolate from her hand and putting it back in the basket. She sets the entire basket aside and helps her up off the floor. “Go wash your hands and then we can eat.”

After a big brunch and a lot of candy, Hailey is getting tired. She's lying down on the sofa with her head in Y/N's lap, nearly falling asleep. Harry sits down next to her with his arm draped across her shoulders.

“I can't wait for us to have a little one like her someday.” He whispers into her ear.

“Me either.” She smiles and leans her head against his shoulder. “You'd be the best daddy.”

“And you'll be the best mummy.”

“We'll be great together.”

“Yes, we will.” Harry says and kisses her cheek.

[alxndryngs]

So I saw your post about taking some RE8 requests. Can I please have our favorite lady, Alcina Dimitrescu walking in to find her maiden crying/upset about being made fun of by the other maids for being chubby? I need the assurance that only a 9'6" woman is capable of.

Absolutely! I'm a chubby gal myself and boy don't we need that 9"6 Lady hahaha

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

Aphrodite's Batch of Roses

Alcinas day had gone smoothly so far. For once, her daughters were behaving, the newest wine shipment had just been made that she had spent weeks preparing for, and lunch had been one of her favourite dishes.

The past week had been quite chaotic. Her girls never let her get off her feet and eventually Alcina did have enough. Once they were all sat at the dinner table yesterday, Alcina told them how truly exhausted she was and explained that them misbehaving did not contribute to that in any way.

The girls felt bad at an instant for their behaviour and promised their mother at least one day without them causing trouble.

And that day was today.

With a glass of wine, not Sanguis Virginis, but wine, she made her way to her atelier. She had been feeling quite artistic as of late and with todays silence she decided it would be a good time to start another project.

But what size canvas would she use? Oil or acrylic paint? Which brushes? Hard or soft? What would she even paint? Surely all the naked women paintings were nice to look at, but there were a few too many scattered across the castles walls.

Her peace of mind, however, was destroyed once she entered the sacred room and heard the heartbeat lingering about.

An annoyed scowl settled on her face as she groaned, looking around the room to find the culprit who had entered her atelier.

Every maiden in the castle knew that the atelier was off limits. The only one allowed inside, even if that, was Lady Dimitrescu's former personal maiden who had passed a few years ago. Ever since then its been only her inside the room. Last time she found an intruder inside, she cut off her hands and said.

"So you can not open doors you're not supposed to."

It was a particularly bad day for her at that, but oh well. Whats done is done.

"Show yourself, and I might spare you your hands, you little pest"

She hissed, all the calmness like washed away and replaced by pure annoyance. Her day had started so good! Why ruin it now!

The stutter in the persons heartbeat and voice caused her to nearly drop her glass once she noticed who it was. And once they stepped out, in what state they were in.

"I'm- My Lady I'm so sorry. I will l-eave right away."

She said, choking on her own tears as she began to fix her clothes from sitting on the floor.

Alcina stared at the little woman so hard she thought lasers might shoot out of her own eyes and through the woman's face.

Y/n muttered another stuttered apology while trying to not again burst into tears and make her situation with her lady even worse. Alcinas body turned as the maid passed her and walked to the door, but before she had a chance to leave, Alcinas hand wrapped around the young woman's arm and gently pulled her back.

Alcina cursed herself for not recognising that little heartbeat when she came in. She had listened to it quite a few times whilst she read or worked, finding this particular rhythm to be quite comforting. There was no fear when y/n worked, no worry to do something wrong. She was just focused on her task, and she was confident at that too.

The matriarch found herself reading at the same time you were a couple times. At first she had been worried when your heartbeat began slowing and just to check, she rushed to where she heard it coming from just to find you wrapped and surrounded in a pile of pillows and blankets in the library, so absorbed into the book you were reading that you didn't even hear your Lady come in.

After that, she reminded herself that whenever your heartbeat slowed, you were reading. And whenever it picked up for a few minutes, she couldn't help but quietly chuckle at the fact that you had probably gotten to a good part in the book.

She had gotten fond of you.

"Tell me," She said, placing her glass down on a small table before leaning down to your height. "Why are you crying in my atelier? You know no one is allowed to enter without my permission. And did you ask me if you may enter this room? No, I don't believe you did."

The leather of her glove was cold against your skin, your eyes eventually finding hers after Lady Dimitrescu wiped your tears for you.

"I know, my lady. That's why I'm here.. no one dares to bothers me in here."

You muttered quietly, embarrassed about the fact that this hadn't been your first trip to your lady's atelier.

Alcina felt a longer conversation come on, and she could definitely not bend down this entire time. She ordered for her maiden to sit on the ground, and to y/n's shock, the lady joined her on the floor.

"Why would someone bother you, y/n?"

You didn't hear your name come from your Lady often. But when you did, the sound burned itself into your ears for at least a few days.

Yet you didnt know where to start to answer her question. Sitting in silence, you tried to make up a start in your head. Alcina practically heard the wheels in your head turning as you thought. She sighed, cupping your tiny face in her large hands and making you look up at her properly.

"Y/n. Talk to me, that is an order."

Her voice was a lot firmer now. She originally did it as an attempt to show you that she was serious about this, but when she saw the new bunch of tears well up in your eyes, instant regret washed over her. Her stern expression dropped as she shook her head quickly.

"No no no, don't cry. Just tell me whats wrong, dulce servitoare"

You couldn't help but to start crying, looking up at your lady as she held your face in her hands. Leaning into her touch, she ended up pulling you into her lap and embrace.

Alcina didn't know what came over her in that moment, hugging a maid. But it felt like the right thing to do. She can curse herself for building a liking to you another time, but for now she had to find out what was going on.

Y/n sat in her lap and cried, cried her poor little human heart out on her lady's chest. And Alcina let her. Even caressed her back when she did, patiently waiting for her little maid to begin explaining.

"A few of the other maiden.." She began after a while, sniffling and rubbing her eye. "Well, they make fun of me from time to time and today it just bothered me a lot."

Alcinas head shot down to look at the woman in her arms, rage painted once across her face. Bullying?! In her castle?!

"They bully you?"

You nodded sheepishly, trying your best to just sink into her and disappear.

"Why."

The tone alone let you know it wasn't a question she was asking, you didn't have to look at her face to know that.

For as long as y/n had worked at the castle, which would be three years in a few months, there hadn't been a single case of someone being bullied. And now it was Alcinas new favourite maid?! She couldn't believe what she was hearing, but decided to get all the information she could get first before she went and cut out some tongues.

"Because I'm on.. well, the heavier side let's say. Dresses and gowns don't look too flattering on me my lady, they make fun of it."

Alcinas eyebrows knit together, so tight you could've thought it was a single one.

"They bully you because you weigh more? Because it makes you look different than them?"

Again, you nodded against her chest, able to hear the low growl rumbling in it somewhere as she kept it in.

Bullying because of someones appearance! She couldn't believe it. At once, she stood up with the maiden in her arms bridal style and carried her out of her atelier and down the hallway. No painting for today.

Y/n yelped when they suddenly stood up, holding onto her lady as good as she could.

"You know Y/n," She began, ducking under a few doorways as she walked through the castle. "I think you are the most beautiful maiden in this castle. Your looks are absolutely to die for, sometimes I find myself envying you even."

Your cheeks burned bright red as you laid in her arms. She envied you?

"Mmm, yes. You have a beautiful body and soul, draga. None of them can compare."

She set you down once you both had reached her garden, smiling down at you.

"Do you think Aphrodite looked like them? Thin and scrawny? No. She was a woman. She had strong thighs, belly rolls and maybe even a double chin." She chuckled, her heart making a small flip as she edged out a small chuckle out of you as well.

"You, my dear," She said softly, squatting down to your height and placing her hands on your shoulders. "Are my castles Aphrodite."

Your lip began trembling as tears once again burned in your eyes. No one had ever talked to you this way, and out of all people it was your own lady? You knew she spoke the truth, she hated liars.

Before you knew it, she had kneeled down and pulled you into another hug once again. Her large hand rubbed your back as you nuzzled into her shoulder, inhaling her scent and god she smelled lovely.

"You are absolutely magnificent y/n, don't let them tell you otherwise. I know what it's like. People back in my time, when I was still human, they never liked my looks. Not because I was heavy, no, but because of how I am proportioned. I was called countless names, some made me cry the way you have been crying. But I learned to love and embrace what they didn't like and how to make myself look good."

She pulled away, gently pushing you infront of her to take a good look at you.

"I will call my sister later today and we will get you some dresses that you feel comfortable in. Hm? How does that sound?"

She smiled, and so did you. Smiling from one ear to the other in fact. You quickly nodded at her words.

"It sounds fantastic, my lady."

Alcina pointed to a batch of black roses.

"Do you see that one rose that looks different than the others? It has more of a purplish hue.. the petals are bigger, more voluminous.." She drifted off, her eyes finding yours again as you nodded once more.

"Sometimes looking different and being bigger isn't a bad thing, draga mea. That rose is my favourite in the whole batch."

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

Word count: 1,850

[so-long-soldier-writes]

Dog Days Are Over

kai parker x reader

summary: the post-wedding heartbreak never ceases. without him, life seems to lose its meaning. but despite your best efforts to depart and chase the void that seems to call to you, somehow you're held back. someone refuses to let you go.

tags: tw: su1c1de attempt & thoughts, blood, blood drinking, vampirism / transition, heretics / siphoning, emotional hurt / comfort, light angst, heartache, anger / mild violence, slow recovery, domesticity, friendships, found family, canon divergence, loosely follows plot of seasons 7 & 8

word count: 8.2k

a/n: I'm obsessed with found family x heretics, if you can't tell. I've had this idea for months and finally was able to execute it! (and by execute, i mean write the whole thing in 10 hours & edit for 2 days)

A subtle weight rests on your body; a heaviness in your chest makes it hard to breathe. You don’t fight it. In a couple of minutes, it won’t matter anyway. The wound in your stomach bleeds, soiling your bright blue shirt with a dark red tint. Your heart rate slows, and your eyes flutter. The world around you is getting darker by the second. The end is near, and you swear you can taste it. To whether it’s heaven or hell you are headed, you don’t mind. Or maybe, it’s nothingness. A void. Either way, anything is better than here. 

Your short gasps for breath begin to even out as your heart fails. Pumping no longer seems necessary, so the organ quits. It succumbs to the state that your brain has been in for weeks: numb. Cold. Dead. 

A glimpse of life flashes before your wilting eyes. A figure running towards you, putting their hands on your cheek. Your lover, maybe, greeting you for an eternity of peaceful nothingness together. Your lips part in the joy of seeing him. Blood trickles from your mouth; the wound finally shutting down your body. Your eyes close and you welcome the darkness. 

<•>

The next time you wake up, it’s still dark, and you automatically assume it’s the void that called you home. The Other Side collapsed over a year ago, but supernatural creatures have died since, and nobody ever knows where they go. Here, presumably. To the dark. 

After a moment, your eyes begin to adjust and you move to sit up on your knees. The ground beneath you is hard and cold, like cement. It is not at all welcoming or comforting, but maybe that’s how death is supposed to feel. You shrug, not caring yet. Soon, you won’t feel anymore. Soon, you’ll enter the void, or cross the Styx, or whatever is the last necessary step of dying. Soon, you’ll be free. 

You stand, then stumble. One minute, your mind and soul feel empty, but in the next, an insatiable hunger takes over your body. It knocks you back to your knees. A whine escapes your throat. Death should not feel this way. Death is supposed to be empty. Something’s wrong. 

“Hello?” You call into the void, not expecting an answer. 

Instead, you hear a far-off voice, talking not to you, but someone else. “She’s awake.”

Fear thumbs in your heart. You put a hand over it, only to realize after a couple seconds that it’s not beating. The hunger increases as the sound of footsteps approaches. This isn’t happening. You can’t be alive; shouldn’t be. You chose death. Wanted it. Sought it. 

But someone had other plans. 

<•>

“Hello?” A girl calls out, maybe to you. She waits, then pulls back a small window, letting a little light in your supposed void. “Where are you?”

“What do you want?” You ask, straining. Your voice comes out weaker than you like it to be.

“I brought you something.” 

“Nora, turn on the light,” another girl says.

“Would you like a light?”

No, you think. You’d like to be dead. But… you’d also like to identify your captors. “Okay.”

An overhead light comes on a moment later. You shut your eyes tight as it floods your senses, then open it once you start to adjust. 

“Too much?”

“Was there a lamp option?” You sass. 

“I could find a lamp,” the second girl suggests.

“We’ll find her one in a moment,” the first turns back to you, “can you see us alright?”

Finally, you can. Two girls peek through a window, one brunette and one blonde. They seem sweet, not like the high school mean girls’ type, but you’re still cautious. “I can see you.”

“Good. We have something for you.”

The smell of blood attacks your senses. Your hunger grows. 

You make two big strides to the pair, before realizing something. You weren’t a vampire before, so why should the smell of blood excite you now? You stop, shaking your head. “No.”

“You have to drink,” the blonde urges. You have to complete the transition, she doesn’t say, despite it on her mind. 

“No, I wanted to die. I tried to die.” You lock eyes with the brunette. “One of you turned me.”

“Y/N, you can’t die. You-”

“How do you know my name?! Who are you?!”

“That doesn’t matter right now, what matters is that you drink.”

“No!”

“Y/N, please!” She holds the bag further out to you. 

Your weak body begs for you to drink, but your mournful heart refuses. “No!” You shout again. “I’m not drinking your blood; I’m not transitioning!”

“You have to!” The blonde agrees with her friend. “You’re getting paler by the second.”

“Good. Then I’ll have lived and died a witch.”

“You’re too young to die, Y/N. You can’t give up. He wouldn’t want you to give up.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Please, drink, and then we can talk.”

“No. You can’t make me.”

“I can,” she argues.

“You won’t come in here with me. With me so close to transitioning. That would be suicide.”

“Well we can’t let you die, either.”

You stand off with the two girls. They seem to communicate telepathically between themselves. It’s quite frightening to not know what they’re thinking. You stare at them, wondering who they are and why they care that you live. 

“You’ll thank us later, Y/N, just drink.”

“I don’t want to live. If I wanted to, I wouldn’t have stabbed myself.”

“You won’t feel this heartbreak forever,” the blonde speaks, like a Hallmark card you didn’t ask to receive. You roll your eyes. 

“I think we have to,” the first girl says, hand undoing the bag.

“I agree.”

Before you can ask about their apparent plan, they’re opening the door and swarming to you. 

“Get out!” You cry. The blonde holds your left arm, while the brunette backs you up to the wall. “I don’t want it.”

“You’ll be grateful one day,” she sticks her promise to you again. 

“If it’s not today, there’s no point. I can’t take this anymore.”

“Take it from someone who spent a hundred years in solitary confinement, I know loneliness. It hurts. It’s worse than a knife to the stomach,” she references your attempt. It’s still apparent on your clothes. “But life isn’t all sad. Sometimes it can be beautiful.”

“I’ve seen it beautiful,” you argue, tears forming in your eyes, “I've seen it, yet I’ll never see it again.”

“You have to trust us. Trust yourself. You can be happy again.”

“No.”

“Yes, Y/N, come on. Drink the blood.” The brunette holds the bag to your face, pinning you against the wall.

“No.” In a last ditch effort, you raise your free arm and smack the bag out of her hand. It flies, then hits the stone wall across from you and splatters. Her eyes go wide, and when she looks back at you, a triumphant look shines in your eyes. 

“What did you do that for?!” The blonde shouts. “Waste a perfectly good bag!”

“It’s okay, Mary Louise, just means she’ll get a taste of the real stuff.” Before you can ask, the vampire before you is biting her wrist and shoving it between your lips. You fight, kicking and swinging, but the girls are much stronger. “Keep her still,” she nods to her friend, “just a little more.”

Your wrist starts to burn. You glance down for a second and see an orange glow emitting from the point of connection on your skin. “What-”

The brunette takes advantage of your parted lips and shoves her wrist further into your mouth. “Okay, stop,” she says, and the girl siphoning stops. 

Your body is weak, but your heart feels strong. It doesn’t beat, but the blood filling your stomach powers it. The siphoning, however, tolls on your body. The girls let go of you, watch you daze, then gently help your body to the floor. You’re out like a light, asleep. 

<•>

You’re much stronger the second time awake. Stronger, with a vengeance. First, you need to find out who those girls were, how they were able to siphon you, and why they wanted to keep you alive. Then, you need to find the nearest piece of wood and send your soul to the void like you had planned. 

You look around, searching for anything sharp and anything wooden. You realize now that you’re in a cellar with absolutely nothing that could be used as a weapon, and the only thing in there with you is another blood bag. Angrily, you kick it and it splatters. The smell reaches your nose and you curse yourself for wasting it, now hungry. On the bright side, the violent act seems to let your captors know you’re awake. They walk gingerly down the stairs only a moment later, then switch on a lamp before opening the window. 

“Y/N?” The brunette starts, tone cautious. 

Your reply is bitter. “What?”

“I’m sorry we had to hold you down. We didn’t want it to come to that.”

“But you had to drink. We couldn’t let you die.”

“What do you care? And who are you?” Then, “and why could you siphon me?”

“If we let you out, will you run?”

“We can’t let her out, Mary. I don’t trust she won’t hurt herself.” You scoff. She turns back to you. “I’m Nora, this is Mary Louise.”

“And? How do you know me?”

“Well, we don’t, but we recognized you from pictures.”

“Pictures? What pictures?”

The girls hesitate. A name rests on their tongues, but they don’t utter it. Unbeknownst to you, they fear saying it out loud will drive you mad. Names have power, and in this case, a lot of it. 

“Doesn’t matter right now,” the brunette, Nora, says instead. “What matters is that you get better.”

You laugh dryly. “I would’ve been better off dead.”

Mary Louise seems to get agitated at that. “Stop saying that! You have to live! He’d-”

“Mary, don’t say anything.” The girl quiets immediately. 

“Why do you care so much if I live? Who’s he? Where am I?”

“Technically, you’re in the Salvatore house. The basement. We’d give you a room if we could trust you, but it’s too great a risk that you’d hurt yourself still.”

“Why the boarding house? Where’s Damon? Stefan? Do they know I’m here?”

The girls share glances but confess nothing. “You’re safe here. We are not going to hurt you.”

“That’s what people often say before hurting said captive.”

“You’re at more risk by your own hand than ours,” Mary retorts. “You stabbed yourself in an alley behind a dumpster. You’re lucky Nora and I sensed the blood.”

“Luck is not the term I’d use. If you couldn’t tell, I did it on purpose.”

They sigh as if they knew it was on purpose, but for some reason they’re not telling you, they still felt the need to save you. 

You ask again, “why did you turn me? Why not just let me die?”

Nora hands you a new blood bag. “Drink this.”

Rolling your eyes more, you refuse. “No.”

“Drink, and we’ll give you answers.”

“C’mon, you’ve already transitioned,” Mary argues, “you might as well not dessicate.”

You know she’s right. Angrily, you snatch the bag and drink it down quickly. When you toss the bag back at Nora, she sighs. 

“You’re a friend of a friend of ours,” she says vaguely. “He would want you to live. He’d want you to live your life and die naturally, rather than die young and heartbroken.”

“That ‘naturally’ part is no longer happening-”

“-which is not our fault,” Mary snaps, interrupting you.

“Mary,” the other calms, “patience. Yes, when you die, it will no longer be natural, but at least as a vampire, you have a shot at life again. In a sense, maybe, it’s a gift. You can leave if you want to leave. You can go where you want. You’re not bound by human laws or rules. You can be free.”

“I don’t want to be free. I don’t want anything if I can’t-” you stop yourself. “I didn’t ask for this.”

“I know. But someday, you’ll realize life is worth living, and you’ll be glad that you got a second chance. Take it from someone - both of us - who were given one.”

“Easy for you to say, you have each other. I have no one.”

“Maybe we can be someone for you, if you trust us.”

“Yeah, not likely.”

“Give it time, Y/N. We’ll bring you another bag later.”

As she shuts the window, you shout. “You didn’t even answer all my questions!” But they’re gone. The lamp remains on, but you’re left to your thoughts, alone. 

<•>

The same cycle repeats for days. Weeks, even. The longer the mystery girls keep you locked up, the angrier you get. They arrive, open the window, practically force you a bag, spew bullshit about how you’ll get better, then leave. Two, sometimes three times a day. No one else ever visits, although one time, they had a third girl - Valerie - join them. She didn’t talk much, but she sure did seem to study you. 

That day, after realizing there were more people in the house than just the two of them, you grow restless. Your mind is understimulated and bored. Your heart is broken and sore. You haven’t seen daylight in god knows how long. The next time Nora and Mary Louise come down, you’re ready to pick a fight. 

You drink the bag without complaints, then send it flying back through the barred window along with a string of shouts and cuss words. They’ve given you the bare minimum of information, despite promising an explanation, and saving you from death just to lock you in a cellar seems cruel and unfair. They want you to live, yet treat you like a wild animal. They swear they’re protecting you, but you can’t see them as anything but kidnappers. 

Nora remains calm throughout your rants, though Mary Louise looks on the verge of tears. It hurts, a little, to see her so upset, but if she could feel the agony you feel day-after-day, maybe she’d understand your pain. 

After every last word on your mind is spat out to the girls, Nora gives you a look that you hate. It reads that she sympathizes; she cares, in her own way, but she keeps you confined for your own good. You hate to admit it, but she’s right. If they had even given you a pillow, you’d find a way to hurt yourself. Even if you kill yourself daily just to be unconscious most of the time. Still, you scream at them. How you didn’t ask to live; how you were ready to die; how you can’t live without him, and he’s gone. You think Nora doesn’t understand, but she does. They both do. 

She doesn’t tell you she does until you settle. And when you do, she finally tells you all of it.

<•>

“Your silencing spells are weakening with her anger. She’s literally breaking them down, there’s so much pain in her screams,” Valerie tells the girls. “You better get her under control quickly, or Lily will have something to say about it.”

“She’s just facing the worst part of her transition. All the pain is hitting her at once, coupled with the fact that her lover is dead. Give her a break.”

“You shouldn’t have turned her at all, Nora.”

“Well I couldn’t very well let Kai’s girlfriend kill herself out of heartbreak. We owe it to him to save her.”

“Some people don’t want to be saved.”

“She doesn’t want to die,” Nora counters, “she just doesn’t want to live without him.”

“And now she’ll live forever without him.”

“I’m going to help her find happiness in this life. Even if he’s not here, she needs to know life is worth it to hold on and find something that makes you happy again.”

“A heartbroken vampire in love with a murdered sociopath can be a very dangerous thing.”

“So can a previously dessicated heretic still in love with her ex-lover from the eighteen hundreds,” Nora sasses. “She’ll be okay, she just needs time.”

“I bet Mary Louise won’t like you devoting so much time to a girl that’s not her.”

Mary enters the conversation from the kitchen. She leans against the doorframe, a small smirk on her lips. “Mary quite likes the girl, actually. She’s grateful to Kai for feeding us and busting us out of that god-awful prison world, and she knows how much Y/N meant to him. And, she likes seeing her girlfriend put so much effort into healing someone else’s broken heart.”

Valerie rolls her eyes, defeated. “Whatever. Just put up new silencing spells, because the neighbors will start to complain.”

<•> 

That afternoon, the girls visit you and prepare themselves for a new string of cuss words. The modern day tongue seems to have many at the ready, and the pair are always surprised to hear the variations you spew at them. Although, when they open the window this time, they’re shocked to find you sitting criss-cross, in the middle of the floor, sobbing heavily. Your hands cover your face, and you seem to neglect to notice their presence. Nora’s heart breaks. In the moment, you remind her of Alice in Wonderland in her sea of tears. She recalls reading that book over a century ago and relating to lost little Alice. Now, she’s transported back in time as she looks at you.

“Y/N?” She asks cautiously. You look up, glance at her, but then dart your eyes back to the ground. “Are you okay?” 

“How is life supposed to get better? How do I live after all this tragedy? Where do I go from here?”

“That’s something we’d like to help you find out, if you’d let us.”

“That’s why we turned you,” Mary adds, “so that you could find it, and have friends along the way. We want to help you.”

You raise your head back up to them. “I can’t do it. I’m not strong enough for it.”

“You are perfectly capable of living a life you can be proud of. You just need a little push to get there.”

“And how am I supposed to get there, living in here? In this cellar?”

“This is only temporary. This is for your safety, until you find it in yourself to want to live. ‘Til the desire to hurt yourself is gone, okay?”

“We have another bag for you,” Mary says, tossing it to you.

You drink it unquestioningly, and they prepare for the shouting. This time, however, it never comes. You only nod to the girls, then lie on your back and continue to cry. 

<•>

A month after your transition, you finally settle. Most of the anger and tears have subsided, and the boundary and silencing spells hold without wavering. Nora and Mary Louise want nothing more than to tell you their full story, and they think you’re finally ready to hear it. 

For the first time ever, you smile at them. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Nora says calmly. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I want to die,” you blurt out, but then sigh. “But okay. A bit numb.”

“You haven’t turned off your humanity, have you?” Mary jokes lightly.

“And be even more bored out of my skull? No.”

“Good. Bag?” 

You shrug. 

“Can we come in?”

Your eyes narrow at Nora’s request. The question is new to you. Usually, they stay beyond the cellar door. The last time they had come in with you, she force fed you her blood. But despite that memory, you don’t feel threatened by the girls anymore. They give you a strange sense of peace, like you could trust them, for reasons you don’t understand. “Sure,” you reply. 

They join you on the ground, the three of you all sitting criss-crossed. Mary hands you the bag, which you accept and drink quietly. 

“Y/N…” Nora starts, “we know you have a lot of questions. And while we didn’t want to give you any responses before, we think you’re ready to hear some answers now.”

You pause sipping your bag. “Really?”

“Well the hard part of your transition is over,” Mary says, “we’d really like you to trust us, and we’d like to have trust in you, too, so that we can let you out. But in order for that to happen, we have to know you’ll be safe in the world. No pointy objects, no wood.”

You turn to Nora. “Is that one of the questions you’ll answer? The real reason you want me alive?”

“It is.”

You nod. “I’m listening. And I promise, I’m okay right now. I’m not going to hurt you, or myself, unless I have reason. Truth be told, I don’t really have the mental strength for it.”

Nora nods, too, then, “why?”

“What?”

“Why is it that you don’t have the strength? What’s plaguing you? Why did you attempt to take your own life?”

“I…” your eyes already start to water again, “I can’t live without him. I don’t want to live without him.”

“And who is him?”

“I- I can’t say.”

“Can’t say because you fear our judgment, or can’t say his name out loud?”

“Both, I guess.”

“Might I say it, then?”

“I guess. If you know…”

“Y/N… we know it’s Kai. And we know because his… passing affects us, too.” Hearing his name out loud shatters your heart, but Nora saying she knew him catches your attention. You tilt your head at her. “The reason we were able to siphon you earlier is because we’re like him. We’re heretics.” You straighten. “We were trapped in the 1903 prison world. Kai fed us and let us out. We owe our survival to him.”

“He became a brother to us,” Mary adds, “was a brother to us. We’re all of the same family, with the same rejected gene, although a century apart. Besides each other, we’ve never had anyone understand us, and aside from Lily, no one’s ever cared to listen.”

“But how do you know me? You know,” your voice wavers, his name coming off your tongue weakly, “Kai. How do you know me?”

“Because, silly, he loved you,” Nora rolls her eyes gently, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Mary nods. “Once he knew we were trustworthy, he talked to us nonstop. Some of it was about the modern world or his own past, but he mostly talked about you. He had the strangest device, a phone, he called it, and would look at pictures of you until it died, and after that, he had one in his wallet.”

“And he’d tell stories. How kind you always were, how he came to trust you, and how you had started a relationship together.”

“The longer he spent there, the more worked up he was getting. He told us about 1994 and what had happened, and that he’d spent eighteen years in another prison world, just to end up in a colder, darker one. I think that’s where the wedding went wrong.”

You agree. “He told me his biggest fear was getting sent to one of those again. Being alone.”

“Not only being alone, but being without you,” Nora says. “We were there, but he still needed you.”

“And although we kept him company, it wasn’t the same.”

“Valerie didn’t help much,” Nora mutters.

“Valerie… the other one? Upstairs?”

“She didn’t approve of his crime to get locked in 1994. She seemed to have forgotten her own childhood, judging his like that. We all grew up similarly. Told we were abominations and cast away.”

You’re about to make a comment on that, but Mary beats you to speaking first,

“You didn’t flinch when I siphoned you.”

“Yeah, um,” you smile, a memory surfacing, “I used to let Kai siphon whenever he wanted.”

“It didn’t hurt?”

“I liked it.” You shrug. “Hurt a little, sometimes. Like a burn, but… I liked the feeling.”

“You say ‘whenever he wanted,’ so like, not only for spells?”

“Sometimes he just wanted to feel magic in his blood. I didn’t use my magic a lot, and knew he had been deprived of it, so regardless if he was performing a spell or not, yes, I’d let him siphon.”

“So…” Nora starts, “you said you didn’t use your magic a lot?”

“Not really.”

“So you won’t be too upset at losing it now that you’re a vampire?”

You give her a playful glare. “I’ll miss it, but I can live without it.” Her face lights up at your choice of words. “What?”

“‘You can live without it’. That’s exactly what I want to hear from you; that you know you can live, despite the tragedy, just like you said you fear.”

“Nora-”

“Sh, sh, sh, let me relish this moment.” Mary giggles at her girlfriend. “You want to fight the war inside your mind. You want to live.”

“I wanted to live with Kai,” you remind. “Alone…”

“You won’t be alone. We know what it’s like to be lonely. We won’t let you feel that way.”

“I just… it’s going to take some time for me to heal. I can’t promise it’ll be easy.”

“We’ve got your back, Y/N. Kai would have wanted you to live. We want that for you, too.”

You nod, still a bit unsure, but now aware that these girls aren’t going to let you out of their sight, so you might as well comply. “Can I stay here, then?”

“In the cellar or upstairs?”

“I don’t know.”

Mary rolls her eyes playfully. “C’mon, we have a room ready for you.”

<•>

Adjusting to your new life is hard. Living without Kai is hard. Living with the heretics, though, is surprisingly easy. They’ve taken you in as one of their own, filling in the void that Kai left, and treating you like family. Valerie is a little weary around you, perhaps wondering how you could love the man that killed his entire family, but Nora and Mary Louise don’t ever let her get far. She, too, deep down, is grateful for the escape that your lover brought them; she doesn’t let her disapproval of his crimes cloud that too much.

Beau is more similar to Valerie than the girls. He’s older than them and Kai, and has never been one to seek revenge, as told to you by Valerie. While Kai had a penchant for violence, and Nora had a heart craving retribution, the other heretics were much more level-headed. They wanted to distance themselves from their family more so than to make them pay. And although Mary Louise was one of these, she strongly supported her girlfriend’s needs, understanding how their coven’s treatment could make them turn cold. 

Once awoken in 1903, Nora quickly admires Kai for his actions. Granted, he may have not gone about his revenge in the best way, but he refused to let his father win, and won himself. Nora wasn’t a twin, just a sibling in her particular line, but she had suffered as much isolation as Kai did. For him to break free from his father’s prison world, then complete the merge he was denied and become their leader, it didn’t take much convincing to get her involved in the break-free from 1903 plan. Mary, again, went along with her girlfriend. She was passive but had a similar childhood, and couldn’t help but see Kai as the brother she always wanted. She had one, but wasn’t allowed to speak to him, and so when Kai spoke nonstop to her, she felt adored by him. And it’s true, Kai loved them all like family, because they were. 

Despite knowing most of the heretics, you never meet Malcomb, who was killed by Damon while you were still transitioning. Nor have you met Oscar, who is out running vague errands for Lily. Though you remain in the boarding house with the four until tensions start to rise between Lily and her sons. 

Lily, rarely at the house, is nonetheless welcoming to you. She offers you a simple condolence when you thank her for giving Kai her blood. She says she wishes things turned out better, and regrets not being able to save his life. In a way, you tell her, she did, but that Damon took him away from both of you. All of you, rather, as Nora strokes your hair as you speak.

The warming party between Mystic Falls’ residents and the heretics is the day your new status as a vampire is revealed. The wistful shock in Damon’s eyes and the concerned delight in Bonnie’s is something you’ll never forget, although by this time, you’re too disheartened by either of them to address it. When Mary Louise whisks you away with a bottle of bourbon, you don’t fight. Enzo sends Bonnie a confused glance that you miss, but neither comment. 

<•>

A lot happens in a short time following that night. Jo’s twins are confirmed to be alive with Caroline carrying them, something about which you’re still unsure. Valerie had a rendezvous with Stefan a century ago, and Julian’s confirmed a monster when his atrocious response slips from between her lips. For a moment, Mary Louise is hesitant to trust her, and Nora finds solace with Bonnie, but you, now permanently bonded to the two youngest heretics, pull them back together. Oscar is lost along the way, caught by the Salvatores who had just put down their own mother. Four funerals are held in a mere couple of months: Kai, Malcomb, Oscar, and Lily. One month after that, a fifth is held for Beau. 

Caroline’s twins - well, Jo’s, ish - are born, with the help of the heretics. You watch from a distance, concerned way more for Caroline birthing two refusing siphons from her vampire womb, than for the twins themselves. In the end, only Beau is the one to not make it out. A previously estranged vampire hunter released from Alaric’s armory interrupts the introduction of life with a promise of death. Bonnie was the one to let her out, it’s revealed, so it’s only fair that she’s the one to get tangled in the mess and take her down. After that, Enzo and Damon are captured by sirens and made to perform the dirty work of the two ancient beings. Bonnie’s trapped in the middle of it, as is Caroline, and incidentally, as is everyone else in the town. Eventually, what’s left of the old Mystic Falls’ gang manages to rid themselves of the sirens, only to be faced with Cade, the Devil himself. 

Though most of these details are blurry to you. Parts of the story are missing, like holes in a blanket. You’ve kept up with the general plot, but lost a lot of the story’s structure along the way. 

That’s because seven years ago, right after the twins’ birth and Beau’s funeral, the heretics ran. Valerie escaped to Europe, and you, Nora, and Mary Louise headed south. You didn’t want to get mixed up in the turmoil, especially not with Rayna Cruz, then a vengeful Bonnie, on the loose, so the three of you disappeared with barely a trace. You’re still in contact with Caroline, and Valerie remembers to charge and connect her phone, she still talks to Nora and Mary Louise, but for the most part, you’re set far apart from your old life. 

And surprisingly, you’re happy. 

Life in the boarding house with the heretics was easy. Living with Nora and Mary Louise is even easier. You’ve taught them to adapt to the modern age, despite their unfamiliarity, but as it turns out, they blend in quite well. You have a thing for take-out; the girls love catching up on all the movies they’ve missed, so many nights are spent as movie nights, eating large amounts of take-out and binging movies all night. Of course, you also rotate cooking. Mary’s the worst. Nora’s the best. You’re in the middle, no talent of your own, for it’s Kai that taught you all you know about it. 

Speaking of Kai… over time, you’ve been able to talk more about him. You open up your relationship to the heretics, sharing stories you’ve never told anyone, telling them things that most might consider TMI, but by this point in your friendship, there’s no such thing as secrets. They love it. They love laughing at the funny parts, and crying over sadder ones. They share memories and tragedies from their own pasts, sometimes relating to Kai, but sometimes, also, relating to you. 

You share blankets on the couch and straws with drinks. You braid each other’s hair and rotate chores. You dance together in the kitchen, singing along to music both old and modern, with no neighbors to hear how undeniably loud you are. You’re happy. 

<•>

It’s been a while since you’ve heard from Caroline, but when you finally do, she sends you a cryptic message that immediately pulls you to your feet. 

Caroline: I need a favor. Call me when you get a chance. 

Your eyes narrow at the text. Rarely does Caroline text with such seriousness, especially with such a long period of not speaking. 

“What is it?” Nora asks, seeing tension on your face. 

“Caroline… asking for a favor.”

“You don’t have to go back to Mystic Falls, do you? It’s dangerous there,” Mary worries. Talk of the Devil filled the last phone call you’ve had with the other blonde. Specifically, Kelly Donovan returned for one more dramatic entrance, a bell was rung, and the Devil got out. A second protection spell was put around the house, just in case, after that news. 

“I’m not sure. One moment.” You dial her number, and only wait a second before she picks up. “Caroline?”

“Y/N? Hi.”

“Hi. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Kind of. I need you to come back to Mystic Falls as soon as possible.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“It’s… it’s about the twins.”

You shoot the girls an anxious glance as they overhear the call. 

“Is everything okay with them?”

Caroline hesitates. “How soon can you get here?”

“Caroline? Are they okay?”

“Y/N-”

“Overnight. I’ll be there by morning.”

“Okay. Come to the armory.”

You pack a quick bag and hug your friends, then leave immediately. 

“Be careful,” they wish you. “Let us know if you need help.”

“I will. I’ll be back shortly.”

<•>

You burst into the armory quite loudly, calling for Caroline. She races to your side a moment later, a finger over her lips. 

“What’s wrong? Where’s the twins?”

“The twins are fine. They’re-”

“What?! Caroline, what the fuck?! I drove all night. I-”

“Come with me. Please. And be quiet.”

Still worried, but now a little pissed, you follow her down the narrow, dark hallway to the cells. You’re about to ask more questions, but then you notice a person occupying one of the rooms. “Who-?”

She spins you around by the shoulders, forcing you to look at her. “Take him and go. Wherever you are with the heretics, bring him with you. I can’t let him hurt my girls, but if he’s with you, he’ll stay away from them.”

“Caroline, what-”

“Cade is looking for him, and Stefan and Damon want to send him back in exchange for Elena’s coffin, but I know how much he means to you and if I were in your shoes, I’d intervene, too. Hell, I’ve spent the last three days compelling Stefan’s victims that they’ve been seeing things. We’ve all done questionable things for the people we love, and so I’m telling you to do the same. Get him out of Mystic Falls, now.”

When you turn the corner, Kai Parker is on the other side of the glass. His hand is raised as he siphons the magic from the walls. 

“Caroline, will-” he pauses, noticing you. “Y/N?”

Your breath hitches in your throat. “Kai?” You turn to Caroline, searching for answers.

“He escaped when the Maxwell bell rang.”

“That bell rang days ago, you said. He’s been here ever since?”

“Damon told me you were dead,” Kai says. The glass begins to crack under his hand. 

“We don’t have time for this,” Caroline interrupts hurriedly, “Y/N, you need to go.” She waves in Kai’s direction. “Break the glass, make it look like you’ve escaped, and get out of here. Just don’t think about coming after my kids, or I’ll make you regret it.”

Kai sets his jaw, then shatters the glass. Caroline blocks the both of you from the shards, and in the next moment, you’re standing face to face with the man you’ve missed for years. 

“Hi, princess,” he greets.

You waste no time jumping into his arms, legs around his waist, burying your face in his neck. You cling to him tightly, wrapped in an embrace, until he sets you down gently. 

“Caroline,” you start, “thank you.”

She smiles sweetly. “I love you. Now, go!”

“I love you, too. I’ll call you when everything settles.”

“You better.”

You take Kai’s hand and drag him out of the armory. A series of turns leads you to a side exit; an emergency door, but with the sirens already blaring overhead, you’re not worried about it. 

“Y/N,” he pauses the moment you get outside. 

“My car’s over here, c’mon.” 

He doesn’t budge. “But-”

“Kai!”

“You’re a vampire,” he says, clearly confused. “What happened? When’d you turn?”

“What? You don’t think I could look this young seven years later?” You joke, tugging more.

“No! I didn’t mean that-”

“I…” your grip weakens with the look he gives you. “Can we please get in the car? Alaric’s going to notice you’re gone, and-”

“When? When did you turn?”

“After you died,” you confess, face falling to the ground. You can’t look at him; can’t stand to see the sadness on your face. 

“How? Did Damon-?”

“No, Damon didn’t do it. I… I couldn’t live without you. It was too hard. I didn’t want to. I tried… someone had other plans.”

“Princess…” his voice trails off as he realizes what you mean. Strong arms reach for yours to pull you into his chest. “You didn’t… oh. Oh my god.” He tilts your head up to face him, but you avoid his eyes. “Who turned you? Dam-”

“Again, not Damon. I, um, can we go? Ric’s gonna come any second, and-”

“Who turned you, Y/N?”

“Nora.” 

“Nora? From-”

“1903? Yeah. “

“Is she-? Are the heretics-?” Kai’s interrupted by shouting coming from the armory. You grab his hand once more and drag him to your car. He climbs in the passenger seat without question, and you speed out of Mystic Falls as fast as you can. 

Not until you’re fifteen minutes from the armory, do you finally answer the questions swarming his head. You lower your speed to follow the limit, then take a deep breath. 

“Nora,” he beats you to it. 

“I killed myself,” you confess, “attempted, I guess. She found me, fed me her blood right before I died. She and Mary Louise took me to the boarding house, where they had been staying.”

“Both of them?”

You nod. “I wasn’t an easy project. First I refused to transition, then I refused bags. She had to pin me to the wall to get me to drink; I still fought, and Mary had to siphon me to weaken me enough that Nora could complete the transition. After that, I’d scream and cuss at them for keeping me alive. Nora would give me this cold stare, and Mary would cry, but neither gave up on me. Then, I flipped a complete one-eighty and cried for weeks. Nora said I resembled Alice in Wonderland in her sea of tears.” You chuckle now, but Kai has a feeling you weren’t laughing then. He sure isn’t laughing at all as you retell the story. “But finally, after about a month, I settled. I realized I couldn’t die, and they wouldn’t let me die, and I had to figure out how to live, now, as a vampire. I let them give me bags without a fight, and with time, talked to them.” 

“Why did they save you, do you know?”

“That’s something I begged them to tell me for weeks, but they refused to say until I was ready to hear it. They loved you,” you say, stealing a glimpse at him, “like a hero, like a brother. They loved you, and heard so many stories in the prison world about how you loved me, and when Nora found me in the alley, she knew she had to save me because you would’ve wanted me to live. She did it for you. She didn’t want me - your girl - to die ‘young and heartbroken’.” You sniffle, tears forming. “She wanted me to learn to live a life I could be proud of, and she wanted to honor her admiration for you by keeping me here.”

It’s a lot for Kai to take in; he’s quiet for a few minutes. As he thinks, though, his hand creeps towards yours and takes a hold of it. He squeezes gently, then kisses your knuckles. 

“The heretics,” he says, “where are they now?”

“Val’s in Europe, traveling. She didn’t want to be near Mystic Falls; turns out she has history with Stefan. Damon and Bonnie killed Malcomb before I could meet him, and Damon and Stefan killed Oscar, also before I met him. Beau was killed by an ancient hunter, whilst protecting the twins after Caroline gave birth to them, and-”

“Mary Louise and Nora?”

“I live with them.”

“What?”

“We have a little house on the border. Just out of Virginia, but barely considered North Carolina. They’re still together; had some bumps in their relationship, but they’re happy now.”

“And you, are you happy?”

“It took me a long time, but I found happiness within myself and from them. So I would consider myself happy, I guess. As weird as it is to say.”

“And me… if I were to join you, would you still be happy, after all these years?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve learned to live without me. You’ve found your place in this world, and friends. You’ve built a life for yourself.”

Slowly, you pull over to give him your full attention. Kai watches carefully, curious at what you’ll say. “Not a day has gone by that I haven’t missed you. I think about you every day. I miss the feeling of holding your hand, and hugging you. Kissing you. Hell, I miss the feeling of you siphoning me. No matter how happy I’ve become, there’s always been a piece of me missing. I figured it would always be missing, but as I sit here and look at you, I realize it’s not anymore. I love you, Kai, and I want you in my life, with me. I always have. I’ve learned to live without you, yes, and I’ve found people and things within myself that contribute to my happiness, but I will never be as good as when I’m with you.”

“Y/N…”

“And if your next question is about Nora and Mary, just know that they adore you way more than you might ever know. Nora admires you, and to Mary, you’re the brother she never got to know. They saved my life because they were mourning you, and knew I was, too. We all saved each other, in a way, and we’re all brought together because of you.”

It takes another minute of focused staring to process your words. You follow his line of sight to the steering wheel, but the moment you catch his eye, he stutters a response. “I-I love you. I’ve missed you, too, every day, and the thought of you is what kept me strong when I was in Hell. I need you.”

“You have me.”

“I won’t be easy, either. I can’t promise I won’t have nightmares from all the shit that happened there, but I promise I won’t ever leave you again.”

“I’ll help you through them. It’ll be okay.”

“You sure you want me in your life?”

“I need you just as much as you say you need me. Don’t ever doubt that.”

He nods. “Take me home, then.” He smiles. “Wait, after a kiss first.” Kai moves towards you as you turn twice, once to the wheel, then back to him, and takes your face in his hands. He kisses you with a passion equally sweet and rough, fingers grazing your skin and tangling in your hair. Your own hands find his shoulders, pulling him closer. After a moment, he pulls back, needing to catch his breath after such a long time of not kissing you. “Good? You need any more convincing to keep me around?”

“Shut up,” you joke, lighting hitting his chest. “Convincing? No. But I am gonna need you to make up later for seven years apart.”

“Well that I can certainly do.”

<•>

Four hours later, you pull into the long driveway that is your home. It’s nestled peacefully in the woods, away from most people, yet not so much that anyone will assume it’s abandoned. It’s cute and dainty, with colored tulips in beds in the front, and a red wreath hanging on the door, all compliments of Mary Louise. A bowl of food and water rests on the porch, to which Kai makes a face, and you explain that Nora’s been feeding the stray cats. You, on the other hand, are responsible for the hammock on the wrap-around porch. It provides a perfect spot for reading, or, more often, a place to daydream what life would be like if Kai never left. 

Just like this, you’d think, but he’d be beside you, softly kissing your neck. 

You don’t knock before entering. However, Kai bumps into the doorway, and you let out a quiet giggle at his confused expression. 

“Nora?” You call into the home. “I need you to let somebody in.”

The door is open wide enough that Kai can see into the house, but he can’t see the stairs. Nora trots down the stairs a moment later, asking to whom you could be referring before she sees him for herself. 

“Just a friend Caroline wanted me to pick up. Kinda like a stray puppy, actually.”

Mary giggles, half-expecting an actual puppy. But then when Nora comes to the door and her heart begins to race, her girlfriend gets worried. “Nora?” She hurries to stand beside her. “Oh!”

“Kai?” Nora asks gently. It looks like him, but she can never be too sure. She looks to you for confirmation.

You nod. “It’s him.”

“Hi,” he greets, signature smile confirming his own identity. 

“Kai,” she says, tone full of relief. She rushes into his arms for a hug he didn’t expect. Nevertheless, he hugs her back just as tightly as she holds him. “Come in,” she invites as soon as letting him go.

Mary gawks as he crosses the threshold. “Can I-?”

He opens his arms again for her to hug him, and the two share their own embrace. 

“What happened?” Nora starts, “how’d you-? Where-?”

“As I told Damon, then Caroline told Y/N, I jumped out when the Maxwell bell was rung. Damon tried to keep me hidden from Y/N, but Caroline had other plans. She let Y/N take me as long as I didn’t hurt the twins, to which I’m happy to let those little Gemini gremlins go if it means being with her.”

“And Cade?”

“Caroline called on the way; Cade’s dead. And Kai ate on the way, so he’s feeling better.”

“Earlier I felt like I could still be slipping back into Hell, but Cade’s grip on me weakened, and her blood gave me strength, so I won and got my footing back on Earth. I am officially a live-dead man once again.”

Mary chuckles, but Nora’s attention catches on a word. “Her?” You glance at the ground, a blush rising to your cheeks. Nora smiles. “Not twelve hours, and the lovebirds are sharing blood.”

“Match made in Heaven,” Mary laughs more.

“Completely inseparable,” Nora agrees. “Well, Kai, I hope you’ve made plans to stay, because now that you’re back, we’re never letting you out of our sight again.”

“You want me to stay?”

Nora had turned, but now she whips back around to face him. “What? Of course. Did you and Y/N-”

“We talked in the car! I thought you were okay with staying.”

“But Nora’s the owner of the house, I have to ask her, too!”

“Of course you’re staying, dork!” She’d learned that word the last couple years and always said it fits Kai; now she gets to use it on him. “Now pull up a chair. I know you’re the cook around here, but I made dinner, and it’s pretty good!”

The four of you take to the table where Nora pours bowls of soup. You settle around the chairs like a family separated for too long, but finally joined back together, never to be apart again, and it’s good. Your hands connected with Kai’s underneath the table, and he squeezes. Across from you, the girls’ own hands are held in each other’s. The joy and laughter around the table is something you want to be a part of forever. 

[moodymelanist]

you look so pretty (and i love this view)

happy @sjmromanceweek everyone! I'm so excited to be doing this event for the third year running and I can't wait to see what everyone comes up with this week 🤍🤍🤍

I’m planning to post at least 3 or 4 fics this week, starting off with some good old fashioned Nemerie. Stay tuned for some Elucien, Nezriel, Nessian, and perhaps even some Azris this week if I can get to them 👀👀

Summary: Nesta's Hinge date doesn't show, so Emerie steps in.

Word Count: 1.7k

Read on AO3 here!

♡♡♡♡♡ Emerie

After a long day at work, Emerie was more than happy to stop at one of the bars on her way home for a much-needed drink. She’d had to stay much later at the office than usual because of someone else’s fuck up, and although she was more than ready to fall into bed, she’d much rather do it with some alcohol and a warm dinner in her stomach. 

Emerie signaled the bartender and ordered her usual drink, taking slow sips as she looked around the place. For a Thursday night things weren’t as busy as she’d expected, but she supposed the happy hour crew had came and left while she was still mentally cursing out her coworkers. There were more than a few empty seats at the bar, but there was a decent crowd spread out amongst the booths and tables ready to have dinner. 

Nobody really caught her eye until she noticed a gorgeous woman sitting at one of the booths near the door, and Emerie watched as she periodically kept checking her phone and looking over her shoulder every time someone came in. If Emerie had to guess, it looked like she was waiting for a date to show up, and Emerie hoped whoever it was didn’t keep the woman waiting much longer. 

You didn’t keep someone who looked like that waiting. With her golden brown hair, pretty eyes, and the way her dark dress was clinging to her, Emerie would kill for an excuse to get to know her. Dating had been pretty… uneventful for her after her last relationship had imploded, so maybe it was just wishful thinking that maybe this woman would look back, but that wouldn’t stop Emerie from wishing. 

Emerie kept her eye on the woman over the next fifteen minutes, watching as her expression grew more and more pinched. Her server came by to check on her several times, and each time the woman declined to order anything while she waited for her so-called date to show up. Emerie half hoped whoever the woman was waiting on would show up just to keep that expression off her pretty face, but the much larger part of Emerie was hoping that the date never showed so she could swoop in. 

Swoop in to do what exactly, Emerie wasn’t quite sure; clearly, her wishful thinking mentality was still in effect.

The next time the woman’s server came by, the woman heaved a heavy sigh before she started talking. She seemed more… defeated, this time, and Emerie hated to see it.

I guess they’re not coming, Emerie saw the woman say to her server. Emerie had a flash of panic — what if the woman left before she could say anything to her, or even get her name? 

Looking back on this moment later, Emerie wouldn’t be able to put her finger on what made her do it, but something made her get out of her stool. Before she could second-guess herself too strongly, she tossed back the rest of her drink, walked around the bar, and sat herself down right at the woman’s table. 

“Hi,” Emerie said, her heart pounding in her chest at all the different ways this could go wrong. The woman’s eyes were piercing this close up, and Emerie thanked her lucky stars she’d decided to take a little extra time getting ready this morning for work. “I’m really sorry I’m late. I’m Emerie.”

The woman blinked at her for several long moments before reaching out and offering her hand. “Nesta.”

Their server — a pretty, brown-skinned woman named Clare — gave Emerie some serious side eye before flipping her notepad back open and clicking her pen. “Glad you could make it. Would you like any appetizers?”

Nesta ordered some calamari for the table and waited a few seconds for Clare to be out of earshot before looking back at Emerie. “You’re not my date.”

“You can tell me to leave if you want,” Emerie said, already mentally preparing herself to get right back up again, “but I think you’re gorgeous, and gorgeous women should never be kept waiting.”

“Oh,” Nesta said back, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. Emerie half wondered how far that blush could go, given the chance, but she forced herself to stay focused on the task at hand. “Well. I suppose you’re right.”

“You suppose?” Emerie replied with a hopeful little smile. 

“Yes,” Nesta answered, raising one of her eyebrows. “But don’t get used to it. I’m the one who’s always right.”

Emerie laughed. “Maybe that’s because you haven’t met your match yet.”

“Are you saying that’s you?” Nesta fired back without missing a beat. 

“Only one way to find out, right?” Emerie replied. She couldn’t believe her luck — here she was, sitting across from a beautiful woman, and the two of them were already going back and forth effortlessly. 

“Yeah,” Nesta agreed slowly, her eyes taking their time trailing over Emerie’s top half. “I guess there is.”

As they talked over their appetizers and eventually their meals, Emerie fell a little more head over heels with every detail she learned about Nesta. She was an attorney working in intellectual property, she had a cat, and most importantly, she had indeed been stood up on a date. 

“I mean, it’s not that hard to send a text if you changed your mind,” Nesta grumbled over her eggplant Parmesan. “It only takes a couple of seconds.”

“She sounds like she sucks,” Emerie replied, pulling a huff of a laugh out of Nesta.

“Yeah,” Nesta agreed. “I never got to meet up with her, but this is a much better date than whatever excuse she would’ve pulled out of her ass if she ever showed up.”

“It definitely wouldn’t have been good enough for you,” Emerie told her, picking up a few pieces of her penne alle vodka with her fork. 

“After almost twenty minutes? Definitely not.” Nesta took a sip of her soda before fixing Emerie with a considering stare. “But that’s enough about me. Tell me about you.”

Emerie was more than happy to share details about herself, and found herself preening a little bit that Nesta seemed to like what she was hearing. Emerie was more than happy to talk about her marketing job, but the real fun started when they realized they had similar tastes in books. They easily killed another twenty minutes just talking about the newest Sellyn Drake release, and Emerie couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled and laughed so much talking to a stranger.

As much fun as they were having, though, the night eventually had to come to a close. Clare came by to drop off the check and Emerie had to hold in a sigh as she realized she and Nesta would probably be parting ways in the next ten to fifteen minutes.

“Please, it’s the least I can do,” Nesta said, grabbing the check before Emerie could even take a look at what they owed. Emerie opened her mouth to argue, but Nesta fixed her with a look that made her close her mouth almost immediately. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Fine,” Emerie said back. “But next time’s on me.”

“Mhmm,” Nesta replied, though the playful look in her eyes told a different story. Emerie couldn’t wait to tell Gwyn about all this.

Once they settled their tab, they ended up outside and walking down the street. Nesta had driven to the bar after work, but Emerie had taken the train, so she offered to walk Nesta to her car. It was the opposite direction from the closest station, but she didn’t mind a few extra minutes if it meant she could spend them with Nesta.

“Thanks for saving me, Emerie,” Nesta said once they got to her car. Her hand had brushed Emerie’s a few times during the walk and Emerie swore her skin was tingling a little bit. “I had a really good time tonight.”

“You’re very welcome,” Emerie said back, seriously distracted by the way her name sounded coming out of Nesta’s mouth. “I’m happy to rescue you anytime you want, Nesta.”

“Is that what you did?” Nesta teased. She cocked her head ever so slightly and Emerie fell a little in love with the way her hair looked brushing across her shoulders when she did. “Those are some strong words.”

“I feel strongly about it,” Emerie replied, stepping just a little closer into Nesta’s personal space. Nesta was just an inch or two shorter than Emerie, and as a woman on the taller side, it was nice to not have to look too far down when they were speaking.

Nesta’s eyes darted quickly to Emerie’s lips and back up. “Is that the only thing you feel strongly about?”

“No,” Emerie whispered, and then she was leaning down while Nesta was leaning slightly up. Nesta’s lips were soft against Emerie’s, her kiss slow and sweet and absolutely perfect. Emerie brought her hand up to gently cup the side of Nesta’s face and was immediately rewarded with one of Nesta’s hands plunging into her hair.

“Okay, okay,” Nesta said after a few minutes, smiling as she pulled back from Emerie. Her lips were a little pink from where they’d been kissing, and Emerie knew she’d never get that image out of her mind. “It’s tempting, but we can’t be out here all night.”

“Whatever you say, counselor,” Emerie teased, even though they both knew Nesta wasn’t that kind of lawyer. “Can I at least have your phone number so we can see each other again?”

“I was starting to think you’d never ask,” Nesta responded. She pulled out her phone and offered it to Emerie, waiting patiently while Emerie typed in her number. Emerie triple-checked to make sure it was right – no way was she letting Nesta get away from her over something as simple as a mixed-up phone number – before handing it back over.

“I’ll text you,” Nesta promised, leaning in for one last kiss before starting to walk toward the driver’s side of her car. “Have a good night, Emerie.”

“You too,” Emerie replied, taking a few steps back from the edge of the sidewalk. 

As Emerie started to head toward the train, she couldn’t help but touch her fingers to her still-warm lips. Whatever she’d done to get so lucky to suddenly be living out a romance novel, she certainly wasn’t complaining.

tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @charming-butt-insane | @oversizedbats | @melphss | @sv0430 | @podemechamardek | @autumnbabylon | @live-the-fangirl-life | @julemmaes | @that-little-red-head | @jmoonjones | @sayosdreams | @thewayshedreamed | @hiimheresworld | @brieq | @pearlfortears | @swankii-art-teacher | @nerdperson524 | @snickerdoodlechittybangbang | @imsointobooks | @nesquik-arccheron | @sweet-pea1 | @champanheandluxxury | @dustjacketmusings | @mrs-shadowsinger04 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @goddess-aelin | @arinbelle | @talkfantasytome | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @duskandstarlight | @letstakethedawn | @vidalinav | @c-e-d-dreamer | @dealfea | @katekatpattywack | @burningsnowleopard | @thatsowlmazing | @avidromancereader | @a-little-disguised | @kale-theteaqueen

[libraryofloveletters]

Perfect Match

Andy Robertson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: ted lasso inspired - yes I used the dating app from it and what ???, reader works for liverpool, lots of friendly teasing, it's so obvious but not to them, andy's got a crush and the boys try to help him, a few sweet comments from andy, reader thinks he's hopeless, a funny but sweet moment at the end, alcohol and the consumption of, one illusion to nsfw stuff at the end.

Word Count: 3.4k

Author's Note: it's missing robbo hours :( so I dug this out of my vault of unwritten fics

---

You had been editing the pictures from the last training session, trying to see what you can send out to the players and post on the LFC account before your office door swings open. "Where are my photos?" The man shouts, his thick accent jumbling his words a bit.

The chair spins, you're face to face with your favourite left back, Andy. You smiled at him. "Hello to you too, Andrew."

You and Andy had always been close, even though you had only joined Liverpool 2 years ago. He was the first to welcome you, make you feel at home; to this day, he still does that.

"Hello to you too, lady." He smiles back at you, leaning on the edge of your desk. "How's the editing going? My fans are waiting to see my handsome face."

You rolled your eyes, "it's going.. slow. I'm doing the people of the world a great service by not letting them see your face."

Andy scoffs, "as if, you just wanna hoard pictures of me.. for you know.. dirty purposes." He bites his lower lip, a shit eating grin on his face as he raises his eyebrows.

You laughed so hard that you snorted. "Shut your face, you're so full of it."

The left back laughs, watching as you turn your attention back to the computer in front of you, clicking away. Your phone sat on your desk, face up as always - it buzzed, a chime sound came from it that Andy's never heard before nor does he seem to recognize.

"What's that?" He reaches for your phone, you attempt to grab it before he does but Andy's reflexes are faster than yours. He unlocks your phone - that's on you for leaving your password as 0000.

"Andy, give it back." You stretched your hand out for him to give it back. He scrolls through the notifications, landing on the one he assumed the noise came from; Bantr.

"There's no pictures," he huffs, trying to refresh the page. You roll your eyes, "it's anonymous, Andrew. It's not supposed to have photos."

"You're a photographer, why would you pick a stupid app like that?"

You find yourself rolling your eyes yet again. "It's that way so you can build a connection; you get to know the person based on personality and not looks."

Andy tilts his head to the side still confused as to why you'd pick such an app. "But.. you're beautiful, any man would be stupid not to see that, y/n."

Your cheeks flushed red and suddenly, the room felt as if it was closing in on you and it was 100 degrees hotter in there. "Shut up, you're such a sweet talker," you rolled your eyes.

He laughs at your statement, shrugging as he sets your phone down. Andy gets off your desk, his arms resting over your shoulders and his chin poking into the top of your head. He watches as you click through the various pictures, storing through the good and the bad, fixing minor blemishes as you went.

"You should try it, you know." You tell him quietly and Andy hums, waiting for you to keep talking. "Bantr, you should try it. You're a funny guy, you might have luck."

"Maybe," he shrugs it off, his hand lifting to squish your face. You swat his hand away.

"Aren't you supposed to be in the gym or something?"

"Yeah," he huffs, "but Mo and Trent are trying to do some sort of crunches competition and you know-" "You hate crunches, I know, Andy."

He laughs, "why would I go on Bantr when I have you, y/n?"

Your heart skips a beat, but you figured he's just joking - he's always just joking.

"Whatever, Andy. Unlike you, some of us actually have work to do."

He gets the hint; you were politely shooing him out of your office. "Yeah, okay," he nods, kissing the top of your head before squeezing your face once more. "Send me my pictures please."

"I'll edit them last."

"Saving the best for last?" He asks, turning towards the door.

"Trying to spare myself from seeing your face, I've had my fill for now." You joke, earning a laugh from the left back as he walks out of the office.

The day rolls by and you did in fact send Andy his pictures. His phone buzzes in the cup holder as he heads home, glancing at it as he pulls up to a stoplight.

To Andy: *12 Image Attachments* Stop bothering me now, Andrew.

He smiles to himself, making a mental note to text you back when he arrive home. In typical Andy fashion, he becomes distracted by the million little tasks he does when he gets home.

It wasn't until he got into bed that he remembered your message, shooting you a thank you with a little kissy face emoji and saving the photos.

Your words from earlier ring in his head as well; bantr, you should try it. You're a funny guy, you might have luck.

Andy searches it up, his finger hovering over the button for a moment before pressing it, watching as the little circle spins and it begins downloading. He follows the steps; putting in his birthday, picking his location, adding a user name.

That took him a moment - he couldn't exactly put his name, could he?

There couldn't be that many Andy Robertsons in Liverpool.

He'd feel wrong for lying and putting a fake name so instead, after a few minutes of thinking, he comes up with a user that is still him without being him.

Andy sits up, contemplating if he should delete the profile. He's a footballer, is this even okay that he's doing this? Would he get in trouble for this?

He ignores the thoughts and his thumb presses the matches tab. He swipes through a few, reading their cheesy bios before he comes across a profile that catches his eye.

The user sounded familiar but he couldn't place it, unsure where he saw it. He decides to message them while he still has the courage.

lfc26: Hey! How are you? 

The reply came but a few seconds later.

photographer_10: Hi! I’m good, how are you? 

lfc26: Good as well, exhausted from work. 

photographer_10: I hope you get some rest. 

lfc26: I just hopped into bed. 

photographer_10: Me too, it’s been a long day. 

lfc26: Tell me about it, and the weather’s been shit.

lfc26: That’s if you’re local. You in Liverpool? 

photographer_10: Yeah, have been for a few years :) 

photographer_10: Are you a fan of Liverpool? 

The message stares at Andy, he feels like he’s been caught. 

lfc26: I am, why do you ask ? 

photographer_10: Your user lol - must be a Robertson fan, he wears 26. 

lfc26: Yeah lol, a proper lad.

photographer_10: I think so too, quite funny as well.

lfc26: So I’ve heard. 

He finds himself smiling, he would have never guessed he’d meet someone who was a fan of him. It warmed his heart in a weird way; not self centred but content. 

lfc26: I think I’m going to head to bed, I have to be up early for work. 

photographer_10: No worries at all, you take care of yourself.

lfc26: You too :) 

--

It goes like that on and off for a week, the two of them exchanging little details about their days, flirting playfully back and forth. Andy glances at his phone every few minutes, expecting a text from the mystery woman.

It's starting to become an issue.

Everyone notices that the man who is usually on their asses about being on their phones is glued to his.

He's cycling, rather lazily to be fair - awaiting a response to his scandalous question about her workplace attire.

Mo glances over at his teammate, his brows furrow as he wonders what's on his friend's mind. "Robbo," he calls for the Scotsman. "You okay?"

Andy glances up from the phone that was now in his hand. He nods, "fine, why?"

"Because you've been glued to your phone, that's why." Virgil butts in, snatching the phone from Andy's hand which caused a protest from him. "Give it back!" He groans, hand stretched out to the captain.

Virgil shakes his head, his back to Andy as he looks down to see what's been keeping Andy so busy. "What's Bantr?" He asks, turning to Andy and Mo again.

Mo shrugs, clueless before looking to Andy for an answer. "A dating app," Andy mumbles.

Virgil and Mo exchange a glance, so many things said between the two players without actually saying it. "So that's why you've been smiling at your phone, checking it all day?" Mo asks.

Trent was passing by, per usual, butting himself into the conversation between the three players. He grabs Virgil's arms swinging himself in between the defender and the cycle Andy was on. "What's that? Andy's got a crush?"

Andy rolls his eyes, his cheeks give away his stance; curse his pale Scottish skin for giving him away. "I don't."

"You're blushing!" Trent laughs, pointing a finger at Andy's flushed face.

Virgil chuckles to himself, reading the messages between his friend and his supposed crush. "Didn't think you had it in you, man; some spicy stuff." He raises his eyebrows at him.

Andy's face only flushes further red. Trent tries to get the phone from Virgil but the man lifts his arm, even with Trent's jumping, he can't get the phone from Virgil's hand.

"Shut up," he groans, wanting the world to swallow him whole right about now.

"If you like her, why don't you just ask her out?" Trent asks, scowling at Virg as he hands the phone back to Andy and not to him. Virgil flicks Trent's ear in response.

Andy makes a face, "I can't! That's.. are you insane, man?"

Trent goes to speak but stops himself when he sees you walking over. The camera hung over your neck by its strap. "What's going on over here? Any hot gossip?"

"Who says we're gossiping?" Andy asks, smiling at you sweetly.

You shrug, glancing between the four of them. "Players all huddled together, it goes silent as I walk over; I'd say that's gossip."

"We don't gossip, we're grown men." Virgil points out, causing you to laugh. You lift the camera, taking a picture of him and Trent.

"Yeah, of course not, so does that make Macca and Darwin.. little boys?" You point behind you with your thumb, the two Spanish speaking players giggling about something as they stretch.

Virgil presses his lips together, making a dopey looking face. You laughed at him, walking off to take a few more photos of the boys on the other side of the room.

--

It's Saturday, match day.

Liverpool played Wolves, 4-1 and the boys were going into the next week on a good note.

Andy, per usual, finds you and offers up his company and dinner. You take him up on it, you were finished with your editing and could use the friend time.

You sat across from the man, the two of you tucked away in the back of a little Italian restaurant Jordan used to rave about. "I feel like I haven't seen you in forever," you tell him, taking a sip of your cocktail.

Andy hums, glancing at his phone that was face up on the table. Your brows furrow, studying his face as his finger swipes over the screen.

"Waiting for something?" You asked, raised brows when he finally looked up.

"Oh, just a message from someone."

"Someone as in.. a woman friend? Like, a hot date?" You pried, you and Andy didn't have boundaries when it came to conversation; you poked around in each others' business all the time. You both liked things messy and loud and complicated - it's who you were.

Andy shook his head, his face flushed red like when Trent accused him of having a crush. "No," he huffs, washing the butterflies down with a sip of beer.

Your face lit up, grinning at your friend. "No way! You like her!" The words come out in a sing-song tone and Andy rolls his eyes playfully annoyed with you.

"Shut up," he chuckles, taking a bite of his chicken.

You mirrored his actions, chewing your food quietly. You look at him for a moment, smiling at him. "So tell me about her."

"She's kind, and funny. She likes Liverpool so it's a perfect match."

"The bar is so low, Andy." You teased and he shrugged, smiling. "But I'm glad you found someone, I hope things work out between you two."

"Me too," he nods. "What about you? Any luck?"

"Yeah," you took another sip of your drink, "he's a nice guy, but we're taking it slow. We'll see where it goes."

"Good, let me know if he gives you a hard time and you need me to beat him up." Andy says flatly, 100% serious.

You laughed, "as if you could beat up someone."

"I'll pay Virgil to rough him up."

You two chat for a bit more, finishing up dinner and Andy talked you into splitting a massive piece of cake with him - can't have dinner without dessert, just ain't right.

Finally, after what felt like forever, you made it home. You sent Andy a quick text, thanking him for dinner and telling him you got home. You received a thumbs up in response, which meant he was about to fall asleep and was too tired to answer properly - at least he knew you were fine.

You sat on your bed, opening the app you had been ignoring for the last few hours. Clicking on the profile, you send a message.

photographer_10: Hey you.

Andy, who was about to fall asleep, feels the phone buzz in his hand. He opens his eyes, blinking to get himself to focus when he sees who has messaged him.

Suddenly, he was wide awake.

lfc26: Hi, how are you? 

photographer_10: I'm good, sorry I disappeared. Had some work stuff to take care of. 

lfc26: I thought you forgot about me lol.

photographer_10: Never, you’re hard to forget.

Andy smiled at the message, the butterflies fluttering around his stomach like a 16 year old boy with a crush. 

lfc26: That’s sweet, you’ve got me blushing.

photographer_10: I'm sure you look very handsome.

lfc26: Hush you, I'm as red as a tomato right now.

The next message catches him off guard. 

photographer_10: Now are you ever gonna ask me on a date or shall I ask you? 

lfc26: Oh you beat me to it. 

photographer_10: By all means, please. 

lfc26: Would you like to go on a date with me?

Andy stares at the message, he isn’t even sure how long his thumb hovered over the send button. He finally worked up enough courage to hit it, but automatically locked his phone, tossing it on the bed as he rushed off to get a glass of water from the kitchen. 

It was a few minutes later that he came back and saw the response. 

photographer_10: I’d love to. Let me know when you’re free. 

lfc26: Next week? I’m free on Tuesday. 

photographer_10: Perfect, shall we meet somewhere? 

lfc26: Let me be a gentleman and pick you up? 

photographer_10: Sure, I’d love that :) 

--

The arms around you cause you to jump in your seat, heart stopping momentarily. It wasn't until you saw the pale skin that you connected the dots.

"Scared me half to death, Andrew." You huffed, your attention back on the emails you were answering.

He laughs, his chin poking into the top of your head again, watching as you typed nine knots an hour on your keyboard. "Soooo," he starts and your type comes to a halt. Anytime he says that, something either extremely important or stupid follows.

"So?"

"So I sorta have a date soon, like this week. I.. it's been a while." He admits and you spin in your chair, Andy now leaning on the desk as he looks at you. "You nervous?" You asked.

He nods, "a little, yeah."

"You want my advice?"

"Is there something I should do? What's proper date etiquette ?"

"I don't think there's such a thing," you smiled. "But, if it were me, I'd like flowers. It's not a must but it's a nice touch - shows that you thought about more than just meeting the person, you wanted to make a good first impression."

"Okay," he nods, as if he's making a mental note. "Anything else?"

"Smell good, don't go straight from training. Go home and shower, do your hair, wear some cologne but not too much, you don't wanna make the poor girl sneeze." You laughed, Andy smiled.

"I always smell good."

"Do you?" You raised an eyebrow, looking at him.

Andy pulls you by your chair, sitting himself on your lap so you could smell him. "Ew!" You groaned, "Andy, get off!" He had just come up from training, and it was safe to say he did not smell good right now.

"What?" He asks, making a face at you. "Not good?" He tries not to laugh at your face, nose wrinkled in disgust.

"So gross," you huffed. "Go away before you stink up my office."

"You smell like me now," he cackled, pressing his sweaty self against you. You groaned, pushing him off of you. "I hate you."

"Love you too, y/n!"

--

Your music played quietly, you hummed along as you finished up your makeup. Your wine glass sat on the vanity and as you were about to reach for it, your phone buzzed.

lfc26: on my way :)

photographer_10: okay!

You sped up a bit, pulling the rollers out of your hair and shaking it out. Just a last second check in the mirror before you head down. Perfectly on time, the doorbell rings when you get to the bottom of the stairs.

"Coming!" You shouted, walking over to open the door.

Imagine your surprise when you see Andy at your front door, all dressed up, smelling good while holding a bouquet of flowers.

"Andy?" You looked at him, confused.

He blinks, looking just as confused as you. "Y/n?"

You take a moment to connect the dots and it seems Andy's doing the same. "26," you point at him and he nods. "Photographer," he mirrors your action, the two of you bust out laughing at the front door.

"I cannot believe this," you shook your head, laughing as you stepped aside for him to come in.

"I swear I didn't know it was you. I've never come to your house!" He chuckles and to be fair, it was true. You had gone to his place and you've gone out quite a few times but he's never been over to yours.

"I brought flowers, like you suggested." He passes the bouquet over to you; 26 roses all perfectly arranged and wrapped up in Liverpool red paper with a bow.

"My favourite," you smiled, smelling them. "Thank you, Andy."

He smiles, nodding. "Do you still.. you know, wanna go out?"

"Yeah," you smiled, setting the flowers on the counter. "If you want to."

Andy nods, waiting for you to put your flowers into a vase before he opens the front door.

You two ended up going to your usual spot, the Italian place on Water Street. The conversation was flowing, the two of you laughing about how you ended up there and chatted about the upcoming games. It felt normal, it felt meant to be.

You couldn't help but wonder how you missed all the signs.

It seemed that you two were meant to be.

Andy drives you home, walking up to the front door like a gentleman.

"Thank you for tonight," you smiled at him, your hand in his. Andy smiles, nodding. "No need to thank me, my pleasure."

He watches as you unlock the front door and step in. Your hand is still in his, as you look back at him. The look on your face says it before you do. "You know.. the night doesn't have to end here."

Andy hums, smiling at you. He seems to have gotten the hint.

"Yeah?" He raises his eyebrows as you pull him into the house.

The door slams shut, your lips on his as you answer him. "Yeah."

--

add yourself to the taglist!

taglist: @thesnailus @alwaysclassyeagle @lettersfromvenus @mehrmonga @callsignvenus @kmc1989 @valentinehrts @pulpfixion @ironmaiden1313 @candacels @muglermami @leclerces @yuoluver @themandaloriansdiaries

[blazehedgehog]

Thoughts on the whole Mr. Beast situation?

None at all and even googling it doesn't really spell it out very well. I guess someone in his network was accused of grooming? Not even he himself. Just someone he employs. And people were upset it took him so long to say or do anything about it.

Listen. If there is one person on this planet I do not care about, it's MrBeast. He is incredibly rich, getting richer, and he exists in a world entirely separated from all my interests. He is way too much of a general purpose Youtuber for me to care about. He is a content factory brand to me and I am deeply suspicious of him on every level, because he feels like a fake plastic human putting out fake plastic videos.

In my entire life, I have only seen half of one MrBeast video, ever, and it was fairly recently: I was pet sitting for a cousin last week, her son watches MrBeast, and their Samsung Smart TV auto loaded to the 24/7 MrBeast channel where he was doing some kind of isolation chamber challenge.

I was surprised how earnest and personable Jimmy himself actually was, but his entourage controlling the isolation chamber were like... they reminded me of Biff Tannen's goons from Back to the Future or something.

That vibe of being like, some combination of Yes-men, nobodies, and D-list clowns. Most people probably don't even know Biff's cronies even have names (from left to right: Skinhead, 3D and Match). They are only here to crawl around in the star's shadow and laugh at all their jokes.

The dudes in that MrBeast video felt the same way. They felt like they were grown in a vat of Youtube Prank Channel parts.

So strike one: I do not care about MrBeast. Unless he gives me two million dollars. Then I'll watch every MrBeast video ever made until the day I die.

Two, I feel like pointing fingers and accusing someone of being a groomer is like, the most boy who cried wolf witch hunt of our era. I am rapidly reaching my tolerance level for finger pointing about intent because I feel like half the time I hear about it, it's nothing. Obviously it's different when it's DrDisrespect and multiple investigations have proven he was arranging a meetup with a minor and even the man himself has come right out and said "it's true but I never went through with it so technically by the strictest letter of the law I didn't do anything illegal!"

But I also feel like there are certain communities both on discord and on tumblr where accusations of grooming get thrown around a lot more casually by the younger crowd because it's an easy way to lash out at somebody you don't like.

From the perspective of a guy like MrBeast, I'm sure if he really put his ear to the ground he'd hear a hundred accusations of grooming going in all kinds of directions.

If he was a little slow launching an investigation? He's only human. His team is only human. And treating allegations like that seriously enough to do a real thorough investigation takes a lot of work. Again, if he jumped at every time somebody pointed a finger, he'd be wasting a lot of resources. I'm willing to give him slack here. It's terrible when it's real, but a lot of the time it probably isn't.

I know sometimes I say dumb things on this blog. I can think of at least two posts right now from the last year where it sometimes hits me that I said something really dumb. And that's not even counting all the stuff I'm sure some people just straight up misunderstand me about.

But this feels like busy-body stuff. The supposed groomer was already fired on the same day the investigation was started. They haven't even found anything for or against her yet. Beyond that, who cares.