#I'm writing a play for a class. I had nothing earlier today and in the past few hours i got so much

[gerardwaygirlmoments]

I forgot how much fun writing is

[afewproblems]

50. "I need you to forgive me."

You know why...

But please!!!

I know this took forever so I hope you will forgive me! (Also when I originally received this ask I had just posted part one and mentioned in the tags that prompt 50 could be a good 'fix-it' prompt for a follow up, and well, here we are! Also when I received it, I laughed for a solid minute, like evil laughed so thank you @happymediummm )

Part Three of Prompt 53. 'I'm flirting with you!'

Part One, Part Two

It's on Friday that the cavalry arrives.

Dustin bangs on Eddie's bedroom door, with a mace by the sounds of it.

He's about to snark that Dustin doesn't play a class that uses martial weapons when he hears the kid yell--

"Eddie! You have five seconds before I come in there and get you myself, I got your uncle's permission and everything!"

Eddie groans and detaches himself from the bed  flipping the pillow he had been wallowing in away from himself.

He stomps towards the door and flings it open, leveling an unimpressed glare at Dustin who barrels past him into the bedroom.

Dustin crosses to the desk, his head on a swivel as he looks around the small space, Eddie scoffs as he steps towards Dustin, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"What the hell are you doing Henderson?" Eddie spits out as Dustin shrugs his hand off, he seems to spy what he's looking for as he crows a single, 'Aha,' and makes his way to the dresser.

"Seriously, Dustin, what are you doing here?"

"Saving you from yourself dude," Dustin scoffs as he takes a tape out of his pants pocket, the familiar writing on the label makes Eddie's stomach fall into his feet.

It's Steve's tape.

"No, nope, absolutely not," Eddie snaps. 

He reaches for the cassette in Dustin's hand, only for the little shit to spin away from him and toss the tape from his right to his left hand in a move that seems so much like the teen's babysitter that Eddie wants to scream.

Dustin manages to pop the tape into the player and hit play before Eddie can get close again.

A few notes of a bass guitar reach Eddie's ear and his hands drop from Dustin's shoulders as he perks up…he knows this song.

"What the fuck Henderson?" He breathes out with wide eyes that flick back and forth between him and the cassette player.

'Oh yeah!

Some people say my love cannot be true

Please believe me, my love, and i'll show you

I will give you those things you thought unreal

The sun, the moon, the stars all bear my seal--'

"You are being an idiot," Dustin says matter of factly, crossing his arms in front of his chest as he frowns at Eddie, "I don't exactly know what you said, but I think I got the gist out of Steve earlier today when Robin wasn't acting like a guard dog". 

His dark blue eyes scan Eddie as he shakes his head, "you thought it was a joke, do you know Steve?"

Eddie rolls his eyes before crossing to the cassette player and slapping the stop button. All at once the sounds of Black Sabbath halt, leaving the room in tense silence. 

"Look," Eddie snarls, "I've known people like Steve over the years, it's all the same bullshit--"

"Stop it!" Dustin snaps, he steps closer to Eddie and jabs a finger into his chest, "you don't know what the hell you're talking about!"

Dustin's cheeks are flushed with anger as he shakes his head again, "he's nothing like that Eddie, you're being an asshole!"

"What is all the yellin' about?" Wayne's voice trickles through the door, a hint of concern running through it as he leans against the frame, eyeing both Eddie and Dustin warily. 

"When I gave you permission to barge in here I don't remember agreeing to participate in a screamin' match son,” Wayne says, biting back a smile at the indignant expression on Dustin's face.

"Sorry Mr. Munson, but Eddie's being an idiot!" Dustin crosses his arms once more as he looks from Eddie to Wayne challengingly.

"That so?" Wayne laughs, "care to argue the charge," he directs at Eddie who rolls his eyes.

"It's nothing Wayne, Dustin is leaving now--" 

"Steve made that tape for you," Dustin yells, pointing at the cassette player, "and you threw it in his face!" 

"That true Ed?"

"It was a stupid joke," Eddie growls as Dustin throws his hands up in the air, "it doesn't mean anything". 

Wayne looks at Eddie for a long moment, his face unreadable.

"Steve Harrington?" He asks softly. 

Dustin nods nervously at Wayne before shooting another glare at Eddie.

"The one that came by your hospital room every day till you woke up Ed? The one they couldn't get to leave on the day you opened your eyes, that Steve Harrington?" 

"So?" Eddie huffs, wrapping his own arms around his chest tightly, incredibly aware of the two pairs of eyes trained on him.

 "Wayne, you told me I had to be careful of who I opened myself up to, I'm just following your advice!" 

Wayne sighs, lifting his hand to pinch into his eyes.

"You'd be lucky to have a friend like Steve," Dustin grumbles as he moves to the bed to sit down. He pulls up his legs up to his chest and glares at the back of Eddie's head.

"Kid, I think Ed and I need to have a conversation, alone," Wayne says quietly to Dustin.

Eddie watches in fascination as Dustin opens his mouth to argue, but after whatever silent conversation takes place between the teen and his uncle, Dustin merely huffs and slips off the bed. 

"Listen to the damn tape and get your head out of your ass," Dustin bites out as he passes Eddie, he levels one last impressive glare at the metal-head before leaving the room.

Wayne sighs as he makes his way over to the bed to sit, taking over Dustin's vacated spot.

"So, Harrington, huh?"

Eddie scowls and says nothing, leaning against the dresser. He winces as the sudden weight of his shoulder jostles everything, causing his loose D&D dice to fall off the edge and plink and plunk across the floor of his room.

The D4 will be a bitch to accidentally find with his feet later on, but Eddie ignores the mess and continues brooding against the dresser.

Wayne scratches his face, tapping an unsteady rhythm against his jean clad knee with his other hand, "okay," Wayne says gruffly from the bed as he shifts to stand. 

"I don't know what ya did or said, but it was enough to make that kid beg his way in here," Wayne huffs, hooking a thumb over his shoulder at the open door. 

Eddie shrugs, refusing to lift his gaze from the floor. He hears Wayne sigh and the shift of fabric as he steps closer. 

"You were so small," Wayne mutters suddenly. 

Eddie looks up in confusion, but Wayne isn't looking at him, his eyes are trained just over Eddie's shoulder.

"When you came home that day, all black and blue," he shrugs and scratches his face again, "I didn't know how to help ya, and you wouldn't explain". 

Eddie swallows roughly, horrified at the sudden brightness of his uncle's eyes. A man he has only seen cry twice since he's known him, the first time was at Eddie's mothers funeral, the other was the day Eddie woke up at the hospital all those months ago. 

"I don't think I could stand it if anything happened to you Ed," Wayne breathes out wetly now as he roughly scrubs at his face, "and you being in the hospital, you were suddenly that small kid again, standing on my porch all black and blue". 

Eddie feels his own eyes sting as his uncle turns slightly to wipe his face again, "What are you saying?"

"You weren't alone this time, Ed," Wayne says softly as he steps towards his nephew and grasps him gently by the shoulders, "you have so many more people looking out for you, hell --one of em' carried you home". 

"I think a person like that deserves at least a chance to know you, and to see what I see".

It's Eddie's turn to swipe at his misty eyes, "What's that?" He asks with an unconvincing cough to hide the wobble in his voice.

Wayne smiles, giving Eddie's shoulders a soft squeeze, "a damn good kid with a big heart, who I hope knows how to apologize when it's needed".

"But what if you're wrong?"

"Then I'm wrong, and we'll get through it," Wayne tugs Eddie towards him without warning into a tight hug and reaches behind Eddie to press play on the cassette player; the sound of guitar and drums begin again as Ozzy's voice fills the room. 

'Your love for me has just got to be real

Before you know the way I'm going to feel--'

"But for the record kid, I don't think I am".

***

Eddie listens to the tape. 

He listens to it again and again, both sides. Steve filled both sides with music for him…

He lays on his bed while it plays, staring a hole into the ceiling as the last few piano notes ring out before the tape stops, filling the room with silence.

The songs don't all go with one another and out of a dozen there's about eight he knows. The other four seem to be a mixture of songs he's heard Steve play in the beemer with the kids, or while dancing in his kitchen with Robin.

it's not an expert mix by any means, but Steve did manage to collect a decent amount of metal songs just for Eddie and even a one he's never heard before --since when did Scorpions write love songs? 

After hours alone in his room, sitting on his bed, listening to Steve's tape over and over again, there is one thing he can't deny.

Steve Harrington has feelings for him…had feelings for him, and Eddie ruined it. 

He wants to take the version of himself that pushed Steve away and shake him. 

Eddie winces as he pictures the devastated expression on Steve's face when he left. His normally bright hazel eyes and wide goofy grin were left pinched with hurt.

Eddie had done that, taken six months of tentative friendship, of lingering glances and soft teasing smiles -how had he missed those, and tossed this delicate thing away from himself like it was nothing. 

He looks over at the glowing green hands of the clock by his bed. It’s nearly midnight; Dustin left a few hours ago now and Wayne is now at work. 

Eddie breathes out a sigh through his nose as a sudden wave of determination flows through him.

He looks towards the far wall by the door, his Sweetheart hanging up on her hooks. 

Dustin had apparently insisted on grabbing it, doubling back on a severely sprained ankle while Nancy tore a verbal strip off his back for wasting time as an unconscious Eddie slowly continued to bleed out in Steve's arms.

Eddie shivers, it had been so strange to consider everything that happened, or what he was told happened during the gap in his memory. 

Steve had been the one to carry him out while Robin and Nancy helped compress the worst of his wounds with torn fabric and left over gauze from the patch job they had done for Steve.

He vaguely remembers a string of words, a whispered sentence that made no sense as Eddie drifted in and out of consciousness but now…

'You can't do this, come on Munson, open those stupid beautiful eyes of yours, who's going to yell at us about the corruption of youth in America huh? We need you man, I-I….'

Eddie had really been so fucking clueless. 

He gets up from the bed and crosses to the wall, taking the guitar off the hooks. 

At least now, he has a plan.

***

It was a shit plan.

Cutting down the road the kids had taken to calling Mirkwood and through the woods by Loch Nora seemed pretty sound in theory, giving Eddie the element of surprise and hiding him from any watchful neighborhood eyes. 

What he had not taken into account, however, was the pitch darkness, the unfamiliar maze of trees he now found himself in, and how fucking heavy his portable amp was going to be.

Perfect.

Eddie stumbles over a fallen log, nearly careening into the mulch and rotting leaves of the forest floor. The half moon above him, not nearly enough to light his path through the thicket.

At least this version of the woods feels alive, Eddie thinks to himself; the smell of damp dirt and the sound of frogs and crickets singing in the darkness is infinitely more appealing than the strange forest they had found themselves in a mere six months prior. And with the gates finally sealed, the most dangerous thing he could come across would probably be a rattler or a coyote. 

Eddie peers around at the thought, he's not quite sure he's entirely comfortable even running into those animals anytime soon…especially the snake.

Finally, after another ten minutes of walking, warm yellow light begins to sift through the trees ahead of him as he brushes away low branches from his field of vision. 

Eddie hikes up the guitar strap higher up his shoulder and steps fully into the light that illuminates the Harrington backyard lawn and pool.

Eddie scans the back of the house, flipping the mental map of the Harrington home around to visualize which window was most likely to be for Steve's bedroom.

He steps further into the yard, setting down the heavy amp onto the concrete patio before leaning down to grab a handful of wood chips from the shrubs next to the house.

Here goes nothing.

Eddie tosses one of the pieces of wood at the window above him. 

It barely connects with the windowsill before dropping back down onto the patio with a muted clack. 

Oh this is humiliating.

He tries again and again to hit Steve's window with the wood chips in his hand, each one completely misses the target. One bounces into the eavestrough, another careens off the siding and back into the pool behind Eddie. 

"Fuck this," Eddie growls, throwing the rest of the wood chips back into the shrubs as he snatches the cord for his amp and shoves the plug into the nearest outdoor outlet. 

He turns the volume down slightly, the plan won't work if the cops get called on him immediately. 

Eddie takes the guitar off his back and plucks a few notes, adjusting one of the tuning keys until the sound is just right.

"Here goes nothing, come on Stevie," Eddie whispers as he begins to play. 

"I hear the ticking' of the clock, I'm lying here the room's pitch dark," he sings softly, strumming out the cords, it's slightly harsher than the piano but sue him, Eddie only managed to play it once through by ear at home before he left the house.

This was Steve's last track on the tape, and Eddie's sure he put it there for a reason.

He listened to the song again and again, slowly picking up the cords as he did so. 

He could do this, he picked up Master of Puppets in just a few weeks, Eddie could handle Heart.

Eddie keeps going, his voice carries over the yard, growing in volume; so much so that he misses the patio door slowly slide open and the sound of a pair of feet padding onto the patio. 

"What are you doing here?" Steve's voice calls out to Eddie from the door, he jumps, nearly dropping the guitar. His hand jolts on the strings as Eddie attempts to keep his hold on the instrument, letting the guitar scream for him.

Steve stares at him as Eddie unplugs the amp cord and swings the guitar around his back once more with shaking hands, his thoughts spinning, trying to figure out how to start.

"I listened to the tape," Eddie says softly, Steve cocks his head slightly to better hear him, his face shuttering as the words register.  

Eddie's heart races as he watches Steve begin to turn towards the patio door once more, he needs to act fast.

"And I need you to forgive me," he blurts out, louder than he intends, but Steve does pause with his hands on the door handle.

"Why's that?" He says sharply, dropping his hand away from the door, turning to fully face Eddie once more.

Eddie chews his lip nervously as Steve's gaze hardens the longer they stand in silence, his arms come up to wrap around his chest tightly.

"I thought you were playing a prank," Eddie sighs, saying it aloud makes him want to deflate, to walk right into the pool and sink to the bottom. 

If the look Steve gives him is any indication, Steve would be more than happy to watch him go.

"That's a lot of effort to put into a fucking prank Munson," Steve bites out, there is no heat to the words though. He just sounds tired, resigned.

Shit.

"It wouldn't be the first time," Eddie mumbles, he reaches up to scrub his hand over his face, missing the way Steve's face softens ever so slightly and his arms drop from the way they seem to be holding him together. 

"But I'm not going to make excuses," Eddie takes a step closer to Steve, his heart threatening to break through his ribcage the closer he gets, "I'm sorry for how I reacted and for thinking you could do something like that".

"I know you aren't like that, you're honest, and kind," Eddie reaches out and takes the tape from his back pocket and gestures towards Steve with it, "and so fucking thoughtful it makes me ache to think I ruined everything". 

He puts the tape back in his pocket, Steve’s eyes watch him curiously now as he does, it fills him with wary hope, enough to keep talking. 

"So, I need you to forgive me Steve, because I hope you'll let me make it up to you sweetheart".

Steve's face tips down suddenly towards his socked feet and the cold concrete patio, making it impossible for Eddie to make out his expression. He holds his breath as the silence stretches between them.

"Robin was right, you can be such an asshole," Steve says quietly, Eddie's chest tightens painfully at the words.

Eddie nods once,doing everything in his power to keep his face neutral but the downward curl of his lip is unstoppable as he reaches down to pick up the amp.

"But," Steve says, taking a step away from the door behind him, "as someone who was an asshole for a long time," Steve says quietly, pressing the palm of his hand into his chest, "I think it would be pretty hypocritical to not let you make it up to me".

He's grinning now. It’s small, barely stretching across Steve's freckled face, but it's warm and just for Eddie. 

"What did you have in mind, Sweetheart?" 

Steve is quiet for a moment, his eyes dart over Eddie's face before he finally whispers, "can you finish the song Eds?" 

"I think that can be arranged, " Eddie hums with a bright grin of his own. 

He swings the guitar off his back again, quickly plugging it into the amp. 

Eddie looks up to find Steve smiling softly at him as he takes a seat on one of the pool loungers. He pulls his legs up to rest his arms on his knees, basking in his own private concert. 

As the first pink and orange rays of sunrise begin to bloom on the horizon behind him, slowly painting Steve's face gold, Eddie can't help the relief that flows through him. 

He looks down at the shy grin Steve gives him, his hazel eyes bright in the new day's light, and thinks, 'holy shit, I almost missed this'.

"You don't know how long I have wanted, to touch your lips and hold you tight," he picks up where he left off, his voice mixing with the slow rhythm of the guitar, “you don't know how long I have waited, and I was going to tell you tonight--”

Eddie watches, surprised as Steve swiftly gets up from the lounger and walks towards him, his expression determined.

"I think that's my line," Steve whispers as he leans in to cup Eddie's face in his hands and kisses him.

Eddie short-circuits.

The kiss is chaste, short, not much more than the brief press of warm chapped lips against Eddie's own, but the way Steve lets his hands move from Eddie's face to his hair and neck, holding him in place. The way Steve steps into Eddie's space so all he can taste, smell, and feel is Steve.

It’s exhilarating.  

Steve pulls back slightly before placing a second kiss on Eddie's lips, his eyes half lidded and a deep red flush staines his cheeks and ears a bright red. Steve looks much more debauched than necessary and Eddie suddenly wishes they weren't outside, that he could take Steve into the house and show him exactly how sorry he is. 

"I’m sorry, I couldn’t wait, did you learn all of them or just that one?" Steve asks, his voice slightly breathy, he still hasn't let go of Eddie or stepped away.

"Just that one," Eddie repeats dumbly, feeling the urge to walk into the pool again as Steve laughs.

Oh Eddie loves that laugh.

“You sure,” Steve asks again, his eyes crinkle at the sides as he smiles widely, “I thought maybe you could show me some of the other songs you know, inside?”

Either he’s dreaming or Steve is a mind reader because holy shit.

Eddie nods, unable to even form the words as Steve reaches for the amp and gently takes it out of his hands. Steve transfers the amp to his right hand and takes Eddie’s now empty hand with his left as he leads him towards the patio door.

Eddie watches, transfixed, as Steve looks back to shoot him another warm smile as they step over the threshold of the back door, and the words his uncle said earlier in the evening come back to him as Steve leads him towards the living room. 

‘I think a person like that deserves at least a chance to know you, and to see what I see’.

Eddie halts his movement, grabbing Steve’s hand firmly in his own, pulling him backwards until Steve turns, his eyebrows furrowed in wary confusion.

“Thank you, for giving me another chance,” Eddie says softly. He lets the hand holding Steve's own move to trail up and down his arm, eliciting a shiver from Steve. 

“I mean, you gave me one, you came back right?” Steve says softly. 

Eddie's heart twists at the words, he feels his face fall slightly at the thought that Steve could ever think he was somehow at fault for this, “I was an idiot, that wasn’t your fault at all sweetheart”.

Steve looks at him again, his eyes scanning Eddie’s own for what feels like ages, his expression unreadable. 

“Co’mere,” he murmurs eventually, letting go of Eddie to sit on the couch. He pats the cushion beside him, with the same soft smile from earlier, “play some music for me”.

There’s more to unpack here, more to talk about, other apologies to whisper in this beautiful man's ear. 

But for now, he swings his guitar in front of him and slowly walks over to Steve.

Steve asked for music, and who is Eddie not to oblige?

@ihavekidneys @superchellerific @zerokrox-blog @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @croatoan-like-its-hot @messrs-weasley @samcoxramblings @warlordess @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @lostonceandneverfound @shunna @fairytalesreality @estrellami-1 @rlpersephone3259 @zaphodkilledthespeedforce @newtstabber @grtwdsmwhr @uwujinniee @anica-d @imzadidragonfly @orangeandthefairroadkill @starman-jpg @nabatute @goodolefashionedloverboi @wheatnoodle @novacorpsrecruit @lolawonsstuff @redlegumes @paintsplatteredandimperfect @scheodingers-muppet @thephantomhood @0o-queendean-o0 @blackholegladiator @nerdfighteratheart @hallucinatedjosten

(I hope I haven't forgotten anyone, thank you very much for following along with this little story everyone!)

[ch3rryc4ndy]

Teachers Pet

Relationship - Professor Hyuck X Fem Reader

Genre - Smut

Summary - After being forced to transfer university’s, you realize you won’t be missing the last one as much as you though once you meet your math professor

Warnings - teacher and student, choking, impact play, semi dubcon? (includes a scene that may be aggressive towards reader but all is consensual), degrading, language, pet names

"Y/N WAKE UPP" my roommate calls out from the living room. I sigh in irritation realizing my alarm probably didn't go off. I get out of bed and walk out to the kitchen and see the clock barely says 7 am thinking it was already almost 9 "why did you wake me up so early nayeon?"

"It's not early you just need to wake up earlier and be more productive!" she squeals, I sigh and come to the conclusion that she is right, I do need to start getting up earlier. "fine I'll go take a shower" I say walking towards my room to get my things.

[Time skip ]

I'm almost done getting ready when nayeon comes into my room "also since you are new here, we have a new professor. I know it sucks you had to transfer colleges but you'll enjoy it here!" I smile and say  "I'm just lucky to have a roommate as amazing as you" nayeon chuckles and hugs me from the back "now hurry up we are almost late"

Me and nayeon walk into our math class a few minutes early seeing a few people scattered across the room. We both sit next to each other and I look around scanning the room and looking at the fresh faces I've never seen before.

I hear anyone talking to one of her friends and can tell they are flirting once I turn around noticing both of them practically almost making out due to how close they were.

She turns around and introduces me to the girl she was talking to and says "Y/N this is Irene she's amazing, she's one of my closest friends here" I smile and greet Irene with a wave. She is stunning, I guess gorgeous gorgeous girls attract one another.

I hear the chattering in the class quiet down once I hear the door open. "Today's lesson will be on statistics and the way it affects us in the real world." I freeze realizing how good-looking the professor is. I was looking at him in awe when I feel nayeon hit me saying "I think you're drooling" and giggling.

I roll my eyes and ask "so what's his name?" she gets closer and whispers "we don't know his name he just makes us call him Mr. Lee, he's a total ass sometimes I mean that's just how Geminis are right" I laugh and whisper back " how do you know he's a Gemini?" I ask "it was his birthday a few weeks ago and some of the students brought him some presents" I nod and look back at him.

"girls in the back can we cut the conversations to a zero" we freeze and realize our laughing was too loud. "you on the left what's your name, are you new here?" I gulp knowing he was talking to me "my name is Y/N I just transferred here yesterday" I say holding eye contact.

"I didn't ask for your life story I asked you for your name, I'll let you off this time but I don't appreciate talking during my lectures" I nod and say "I'm sorry sir it won't happen again" he stiffens from what I said confused if I said something wrong. Nayeon chuckles at this for some reason. "no worries" he clears his throat "please stay after class so I can explain the rules I have in my class since you weren't here for the run down" I nod and say "yes sir".

I turned to nayeon and write "what was so funny?" on a piece of paper handing it to her. She opens it and writes "nothing he'll explain it after class ;)" I look up at her confused but forget about it getting lost in my thoughts and not paying attention to the lecture.

The bell rang for class and I began to pack up my things slowly when I hear nayeon say "good luck with Mr. Lee" and hugs me winking at me as she left. I roll my eyes in annoyance feeling a wave of dread wash over me as I make my way down to his desk.

He was leaning back on his desk watching me walk down as I fix my shorts. Once in front of him, I look up and realize how attractive he is, his features up close are insane, and he is super handsome. "I'm sorry that I made you stop your lesson because of me, I should've asked my friend if there were any rules" I mutter, he looks down at me and says "why are you blaming yourself when your friend knew them before you and continued to talk?"

I freeze at his words and say "well it was my fault I'm not going to blame her for it, I should've known and I'm sorry it won't happen again sir" he stiffens again and turns around.

Now sitting at his desk I walk towards him as he motions me with his finger to come to him. "first things first don't call me sir, it does sound good coming from that pretty little mouth of yours but don't say it in class"

I stand in shock processing what he just said, I feel a rush of heat rise to my cheeks and I say "Ok"

"what do I call you then" he looks down at my legs and back up at me and says "Mr. Lee is fine, while in front of the class, but out of it you can call me hyuck, or anything you'd like"

I see from his tone what he meant in those last words. I smile snapping myself back into a serious face. "is that all?" I say, he stands up and leans on his desk "yes Ms. Y/L/N"

I smile and say "yes sir- I mean Mr. Le-" I jump at his sudden movement, he stands up and grabs me by the face covering my mouth. "you're making it hard for me you know that? I have no idea why I'm acting like this with you" he sighs, letting go as he watching me closely studying me and my next move.

I drop my phone on the floor and look up at him while I get on my knees and get it. His chest starts to rise as he's holding his breath "I'm sorry sir I dropped my phone" I say looking him in the eyes with a smirk on my face. He moves his hand down to my face pulling me up from the floor as I drag my hands on his legs up to his chest.

He pulls me towards him, lifting me to his desk and pulling my face to his. I was going to say something but before I could he cuts me off putting a finger to my lips and says  "save the pretty little voice of yours for later"

I crash my lips onto him as I start to take off my jacket, I let out a moan, moaning into his mouth causing him to smile. He pulls my shirt up and says "no bra? You were just waiting for me to fuck you huh?" throwing it behind him not breaking the kiss. I eagerly unbutton his white shirt as he takes off his belt.

"shorts off now" he says breaking the kiss as he watches me undress. He turns me around and pushes me onto the chair "play with yourself" I look up at him and smile. He leans back on his desk watching me take off my underwear. He stares in awe while I rub my clit while not breaking eye contact.

"Hyuck" I pant out tilting my head back taking him by surprise. He groans softly as I pushes two fingers into my pussy pumping in and out of me "stop" he demands as I look up at him and slow down my pace. I look him in the eyes as I lick my fingers clean.

He pulls me towards him pulling me back up onto his desk as he makes his way down to my pussy and kitten licks, getting more aggressive with each lick. I let out a loud moan as he circles my clit with his tongue, looking up at me he muffles "you taste so good you know that" I smile and tug his hair as he starts to lick faster making my back arch.

He pulls his head back making me whine "be a good girl and keep quiet ok" I nod as he makes his way up to me unzipping his pants.

I kiss his neck and look back at him realizing how toned his body is, he has an amazing body I think to myself. He noticed me looking at his body and smirks thrusting himself into me.

I let out a moan as his thrust got harder, causing him to cover my mouth. He groans as I bite his hand making his hand tightly grip my throat "you're such a whore, first day here and you already let your professor fill you up with his cock? wasn't this supposed to be me explaining my rules? " he hissed as I give a weak smile due to the overwhelming pleasure "only for you" I whine as I grip onto his wrists.

This caused him to fasten his pace, smacking me, and causing me to almost fall off the desk "what's so fucken funny? Let me wipe that smile off your face" he says turning me around and laying me flat on his desk.

He lifts my ass teasing me with his dick and thrusts hard into me. We both moan, filling the room with clapping and moans. He grabs a fist full of my hair and pulls me up to his chest while pounding into me "I wish I had a mirror so you could see how pathetic you look right now, I'd fuck you in front of it just so you can see how pretty you look" he chuckles, I say nothing as he laughs and continues to fuck me hard on his desk.

I knock down his papers by accident as I try to grip onto anything I can. I hold onto the table as he pounds into me. Incoherent words start to come out of my mouth as I try and form a sentence "I said save that pretty little voice of yours" hyuck coos as his other hand covers my mouth.

I feel myself starting to orgasm as he hits my G spot. "H- hyuck I'm-" I try and make out the few words I could. " be a good girl and cum on my cock doll, please you can do it, I know you can" he purrs as he grips my jaw, and chuckles.

He lifts my head eagerly "I'm not done with you yet" he groans as he turns me around letting my hips go and leaving me on the desk. I hear his voice from behind me "get up now" he demands, I weakly lift myself from the desk and turn around holding onto the edge trying to balance myself.

"sit" he says as he's sitting down on his chair. I walk over to him and sit down on his lap "you look so weak already, did I already ware you out?" he says smiling at me. I fall on his shoulders out of exhaustion as I shake my head.

He laughs and thrusts into me again while he holds me down by my shoulders hitting a new spot and causing me to wince. Tears start to form in my eyes due to the mix of pain and overwhelming pleasure.

Hyuck lifts my head to look up at my face and sees the mix of emotions on it as his thrusts get harder. "shit" he says as his thrusts get messier, I feel myself reaching my 2nd orgasm as I drop my head down to his neck "I'm cum-"

He thrusts one more time, filling me up with his warm cum, causing us to both moans from pleasure. Hyuck lifts me onto the table and cleans himself up as his lap was covered in a mixture of cum and sweat. I lay there looking at the ceiling with my mouth slightly open trying to process everything that happened in an hour while catching my breath.

As he's zipping his pants he chuckles at the sight of me. He pulls me by my legs making me slide towards him and pulls my arms up to face him, " let me help you get dressed" he grabs some tissues he had on his desk and cleans my inner thighs up, pushing 2 fingers in me causing me to groan as I grip onto his back.

He pulls them out for the last time and licks them clean, "I had to get the last taste for today" he smirks. As we finished dressing it was hard for me to stand up due to how weak my legs were at the moment "do you need help" he says chuckling.

I nod my head as he pulls me towards him, kissing me "this is our little secret ok, give me your phone" he hums as he taps his finger onto my lips, I'm a bit taken back by him wanting my phone but I comply and give it to him.

He types his number in and names himself "HC ", he takes a picture of us while he kisses me on the cheek and puts it as his contact photo "what if someone sees this" I say with my arms wrapped around his waist. 

"well aren't you just going to have to hide it" he coos with a smile. I gather my things and make my way out of the door as he stops me "I had a great time today Y/N if you ever need a follow-up on the lecture don't mind calling me" he says with a smirk on his face.

"I noticed you weren't even paying attention to my lecture during class so I think you'll have to come over to my place for a punishment, don't you think? Maybe you need it to be fucked into you" he adds

"I think that's the only way I'll listen" I purr.

[dtmacgxstorys]

Frederick Kreiburg X Reader!

This is a Frederick Kreiburg/Conposer x Gender Neutral Reader! (I never have a solid plan, I just write whatever comes to mind!)

You haven't been at the Oletus Manor long, not even a week as passed yet. It took almost 3 days just to introduce them ether because they were shy or you were getting tired. From the moment Eli Clark, Victor Grantz & Luca Balsa introduced themselves, you knew that they would be good friends, but one guy caught your attention, Frederick Kreiburg! You have never interacted with the upper class before coming to the Oletus Manor, but you heard nothing good about them, but then again, you didn't look like you're in a low class. You couldn't help the blush on your face he took your hand & kissed your knuckles as he introduced himself.

The next day, you decided to explore some of the rooms you haven't seen yet. After some time walking, you find a room with a piano in it. You never had lessons on how to play, but every time you see a piano, you always sit down & start playing. You almost always play something huntingly beautiful. You play the piano for a while, you don't even notice that shortly after you started playing, some walked into the room & was slowly approaching. When you stop playing, he says: "...So how long have you been practicing." You nearly fall off the bench as you spin around. "So sorry, I didn't mean to startle you." "P-pract, I haven't eaten had any lessons. A-also don't sneak up on people like that." "... sorry." Is all he said, looking at you with an undeternal look. "Breakfast should be starting soon, do you mind if I sit with you?"

At breakfast, he ask: "have any other talents?" "I like to draw, but i don't like painting, what about you?" You ask. "...piano is all I know!" Is all he said. You both stay quiet for some time before he brakes it & ask: "Do you mind spending today with me?" "No, I don't mind." After breakfast, you walk with him & ask: "So, what are we doing?" "I want you to listen to me pract." "Oh,Ok." Is the last thing you say while heading back to the room. Back in the room, he ask: "can you please sit next to me?" "Ok." You say, doing as he asked as he sits down. He plays a somber but aggressive melody, he also plays much faster than you. He stopped mind key. "You ok?" You ask. "... you really never had lessons?" "Frederick, don't get hung up on that. You play so much better than me." ".... you don't even know how well you actually played?" He ask, looking at you. You can't fully see if he's angry or upset. "I know I play good enough to touch or move some people, but I can't compare to you." He looks away from you & starts to play something similar to what you played earlier. When he stops, you can't help but look at him in awe. He turned away from the piano & says: "You do." With that, he gets up & leaves.

As he leaves, you shoot up & cell out to he. "F-Frederick, Wait!" You exit the room & you see him looking back at you. "Frederick, I'm so sorry if I upset you, I didn't even think anyone was awake to hear me, I just started playing because it was there and-" "I don't know what I feeling, but I'm not upset because you can play as well as I do even though you never had lessons." "Oh" is all you can say. It's been 6 & a half months after that incident, but he did start taking with you shortly afterward, but your friends couldn't help but how much of your time Frederick is taking. One day at lunch, there is an open seat across from you, & Luca jumped at the opportunity. "Luca, No!" Victor & Eli tried to grab him, but he's too fast. Luca sits across from you & ask: "Sooo~ what are you two doing?" "Oh, hi Luca, just taking." You replie. "Luca, don't do this." Eli said. "You know Frederick, I didn't think you were the type to want to be friends just anyone?" Frederick just glares at Luca.

"Luca, enough! Let them eat in place." Victor said. "Why are you spending so much time with Y/N, Frederick?" "Luca, it's ok, Frederick isn't-" Luca cuts you off saying: "I Want To Hear Frederick Speak." Luca words made you jumb a little. "We both can play piano." Frederick replies. "Do you think I'm stupid, Frederick? That can't be all!" Victor & Eli on stand by if Luca becomes too violent. "... sorry Y/N, I think I should go." Frederick says as he gets up. "Frederick, please say & eat. Luca, what the fuck is your problem?" You ask. "I don't believe that this rich asshole gives a shit about you." Luca said, glaring as Frederick. Frederick finally spoke up: "even if I tell you the truth, you wouldn't believe me, Luca." With that, Frederick left. "Frederick!" You cell out but he continued out of the dining room. "Why do you even want to spen time with Him anyway Y/N?" You quickly replie: "Because I like him!" Luca looks at you, surprised. "Really?" All three of them say at the same time.

"Yes." Is all you said before leaving to find Frederick. You finally catch up to him. "Frederick, wait, are you ok?" He just stands there, not turning to face you. "... I'm fine." "Frederick please, please don't lie to me." He turns to face you, placing his hand on your cheek. "... Y/N,... i.... i can't right now." "Please Frederick, don't leave me in the dark." You said, putting your hands on his face. He looked surprised. "...Y/N..." He leans a little closer to you. "....I'm good now. Thank you, Y/N." He removes his hand & backs up. ".... I'm going to my room to relax." "Can I come?" You ask. "...ok." He held out his hand toward you. You take it & follow him.

He opens the door & lets you in first, closing the door behind him. He walks over to his bed & lies down. "You can lie next to me." You do exactly that & ask: "Do you want to talk or no?" "Not really." He replies. The two of you lie in silence for a long time before he suddenly sits up. "You ok Frederick?" He just sits there, quiet for a moment. "...why do you want to be here, with me right now?" You pause, unsure how to answer. You decide to confess. "Because... because I love you Frederick." He turns to you, surprised from the words. "...Me, you like me?" "Yes Frederick, You, I love you so much!" He turns away from you & looks at the floor.

"... you're not trying to just get sex out of me, you mean it?" "No, absolutely not. I love you, I love being here with you." He turns back to you. "Then come here." You crawl over to him and sit on your knees. He pulls a hand on your cheek & leans closer to you, kissing you on the lips. You wrap your arms around his neck, leaning into him. After a long, passionate kiss , he finally pulled away, looking at you with a loving look. "Do you wanna cuddle for a while, I'm big spon if so?" "Sounds good to me!"

End!

It's 3:01 am & Don't care if this is in character!

[mybworlds]

CHAPTER 11

status: ongoing

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: your life is full of 'must'. You live with your overprotective mother who controls every aspect of your life. You have a dream, to write romance novels, but love - real love - you haven't found yet. Your mother has even decided what you must do in your free time: play music. One day, however, when you go to your music teacher's house, you will have an unexpected encounter and from that day on things change…

Masterlist

rating: 18+ explicit (minors, DNI)

Before to start... Thank you for your support, for your likes and reblog, thank you, thank you, thank you ❤️If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging and leaving comments 🫶 if you don't like it don't be rude and keep going. 😉 Please remember English is not my first language, so please be merciful! 🙏

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner.

Taglist: @harriedandharassed

The next day you wake up against the door of your room, you don't know what time it is or what day it is, you don't have your cell phone, you feel dazed, your eyes are swollen which you open with difficulty, you only see that it is daytime because the sunlight illuminates your room, you barely get up and go to the window.

People walk quietly down the street, there are small groups of kids walking here and there, a couple of couples holding hands, a father and daughter walking hand in hand. You rest your hands on the window feeling miserable and burdened, you place your forehead against the window and close your eyes, you think of Joel, who knows if he called, if he wrote to you!

“You don't want to fly away? Then fly away,” you think back to Joel's words.

You hope your mother didn't read or see his calls!

Luckily you have the block on your phone.

You open your eyes again, walk to the door, and make to open it, but it's still closed.

“Mom? Mom open it.”

“I don't deserve this,” you tell her, wanting to use a firm tone of voice, but your tone of voice is shaky.

You hear her footsteps, and this time after a few seconds the door opens, your mother is wearing a red coat, her hair is combed back, she is lightly made up, and she is still peering at you coldly.

She doesn't speak; she waits for you to do so.

“I don't know what to do with you anymore.” she says in a defeated tone of voice “I thought making you attend my prayer group, making you take music lessons would make you better than your father, and instead…” she leaves the sentence hanging.

“Excuse me if I'm not the daughter you wish,” you tell her.

When she wants to hurt you, she compares you to your father.

You don't know exactly what he did, but it is certainly something very serious. Or so you have always guessed from her words and the tone she uses when she mentions about him.

Usually when she compare you to the other parent, you always told her what can I do to change your mind, she told you that you should study and try harder, be more obedient, and after a few weeks, serenity returned between the two of you because you got back in line, in her lines. Today, you don't want to say that statement anymore. It is not fair that everything you want is constantly repressed and belittled. It is not fair that she prevents you from seeing someone. You cannot allow that.

You don't want to get Joel in trouble, you can't.

Your mother sighs, then shakes her head.

“So who was the man Mrs. Bixby saw?” she asks again.

“His name is Jack.” you answer her “I met him when I was waiting for you at the end of my music class, I had finished a few minutes earlier and went into a bar to have a glass of water.” you tell her.

“We're getting somewhere.” she says hearing you confess “How long have you been seeing him? Have you seen him again? What does he do?” she begins with her many questions.

“Since a couple of months, Jack studies psychology. We've always seen each other in public places like the library, restaurant, diner, never here or at his home. Nothing has ever happened, if that's what you care to know,” you say finding a firmer tone of voice.

If she knew what you do with Joel.

“I'd like to meet him,” she says.

“Mom it's a little early, we don't know each other yet to have him come here to the house,” you try to dissuade her.

“I insist!”

You lower your head, you don't have a choice. By now you have to do this or your mother would start again and forbid you any kind of outing.

“All right,” you reply not at all enthusiastically.

Instead, she seems to visibly calm down, “Fine,” she says.

“Where are you going?” you ask her.

“I go to church.” she replies and then she turns her back on you, “Ah, your damn cell phone has been ringing nonstop!” she exclaims.

You leave and make to go to the kitchen to get it back, but your mother once again stops you with her words “I saw there are messages from your friends and at least two from Joel Miller. None from Jack. It's kind of strange that he's not looking for you, isn't it?” she says making you freeze.

“We had a fight two nights ago,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders.

“Well, I'm going then.”

“Joel, when are you coming?” you ask him not answering his question using an alarmed tone.

You nod, when you hear the door close you resume breathing normally and run to unlock your cell phone. You call Joel immediately.

“Baby, finally!” he exclaims in an alarmed tone “I was scared for you. You okay?” he asks you.

“I'm home. D' ya wanna me to pick you up?” he asks you in the same tone.

“No. Um, listen,” you check the door, “my mother suspects something. I can't make you come down here to me anymore, I'll come to you. I'll wait for her to go to the hospital tonight and then I'll sneak out. Okay?”

The door opens and you immediately close the phone pretending you are going to get some cookies for breakfast. Your mother is back, she forgot something she tells you and then goes out again. You breathe a huge sigh of relief, then go back to look at your phone and text Joel “Sorry I ended the call, I couldn't talk. I wish I didn't have to force you to go through this… “

Joel calls you back, you answer.

“You're going to tell me everythin' tonight. 7 o'clock 's okay for you?” he tells you.

If you could, you'd run straight to him.

“Yes. See you tonight,” you tell him, “Bye.”

“Miller careful with that or you'll end up without something very dear to you!” exclaims his colleague, the only female presence on the site, the only friend Joel has and who knows all about you and who has eagerly seen your presence in his friend's life.

Her name is Tess, she pats Joel's shoulders to call him to attention, he looks up and she smiles at him.

“Hey.” Joel greets her thoughtfully, the man is splitting bricks, but the cuts are inaccurate.

Tess stays behind him, “What?” asks Joel.

“Those bricks need to be split four inches farther apart, and then the angle is wrong.” Joel snorts, “What's the matter, Miller?”

“If you want to talk, I'm here,” Tess says again, lighting a cigarette.

“Nothin'.” his tone does not convince Tess, who grabs a rickety chair and sits down. She says nothing, just observes Joel continuing that wrong slanted cut.

Joel snorts, actually you are his fixed thought, at first he was attracted to you because of your sweetness and great insecurity towards the world, towards everything that was unknown to you and he couldn't help but think of your eyes and its endless expressions of astonishment, joy, fear, but also desire and love as you you know each other. When you met, he would have thought anything but to think so much about someone after what had happened to his daughter Sarah and then with his partner! Indeed, when his brother Tommy had asked him to tell his pupil that there would be no more meetings, he never thought he would meet a sweet, pure and fragile girl like you, never thought he would find himself captivated by you, never.

Joel gives her a sidelong glance, “There's not much to say.” Joel picks up the hammer breaking another block.

“Is it about her, isn't it?” she asks.

Joel nods pronouncing your name in a whisper with such delicacy and sweetness as if you were the most precious gem in the world to him.

“I would like to be strong for both of us,” Joel says, throwing the hammer just farther, “but the truth is that knowin' her in danger, in this state of duress, hurts me. What I want is to hold her in my arms and tell her that I will always keep her safe with me.”

Joel quickly realizes, however, that this is not possible. You might have been thrilled about it, but while he himself would have been very happy about it, he still has a lot of doubts about how right it is to bond you with someone like him.

“Did you tell her about Jess?” Tess asks him, taking a puff of her cigarette.

“Yes.” Joel replies immediately, moving away from there and toward the scaffold. Tess follows him in a half-step, “I told her in a nutshell that it didn't end in the best way between us.”

“Did you also tell her she's around and from time to time you see her?” she asks him, resting her forearms on the scaffold's balustrade. Joel gives her a long, penetrating look that counts as an answer, which is no.

Joel still cannot talk about her unfiltered because to do so would mean talking about Sarah, and Sarah is a chapter of his life that he does not want to share with anyone. Unless he has to.

“I know you were really bad first about Sarah and then about Jess, but maybe with her you could-”

“Tess, do you mind if we don't talk about those years of my life at all,” the tone of his voice does not allow for different replies.

“All right.” Tess says “I had felt that you cared particularly for her.”

Joel sighs heavily. He is trying to remember why he still addresses the woman. At that moment it escapes him.

“Yes.”

“If it was a sex thing, I wouldn't have told you to talk to her about who-you-know.” she adds “But from what I understand it's more than that.” the man looks at her with an enigmatic gaze and Tess's eyes go wide “You haven't yet-- oh my God, then this is a serious thing!” she exclaims with a half-smile “And who would have expected old Miller to fall in love again!” she exclaims again patting the man's shoulder who rolls his eyes shaking his head.

Joel looks toward the buildings still under construction, he doesn't like to talk about his feelings, he was never good at expressing them if the situation was clear. Let alone today with you who are so much younger than him, you are absolutely inexperienced and naive! Nonetheless, Joel can't do without you or think about you.

Evening comes and Joel is in great apprehension about you: your voice, your tone were strongly cracked, your words had put him in a state of great agitation.

He has tidied up the house at the least, ordered Italian food, and he's waiting for you with great impatience.

When you knock on the door, he immediately runs to open it. Joel does not even have time to greet you, that you pounce on him, encircling his neck with your arms and burying your head in the crook of his neck. Joel wraps both arms around you and holds you tightly to him, closing his eyes.

“Baby.” he whispers in your ear then kissing one forehead “You're safe.” he tells you increasing his grip even more and then sinking a hand into your hair “My poor baby.” he repeats, you can't speak, you feel overwhelmed, you just stay in that position and inhale his strong scent.

You have, the two of you have, chills.

You can't separate yourself from that embrace, you don't know what to say to each other, but maybe that embrace is worth more than many words.

You eat in silence and only afterwards, when you are on the couch, you lying with your head on his thighs and him gently stroking your hair, you tell him what happened with your mother, you tell him that you are afraid to be there, that you would like to get out of there, to run away. You've always felt this state of oppression, but never as tightly as the night before.

“Please go away. You can come to me,” he tells you.

You look at him with a surprised look, you had thought about your friends, but certainly not him.

“Joel, I…”

“Think about it, but I don't want to know you're in danger. If something happened to you--” you raise your head and stand beside him "I could never forgive myself."

“Sssh,” you say as you sit on his lap, resting a finger on his lips, “I'm here now.”

He gently kisses your fingertip making your skin crawl, you smile at him and then pounce on his lips.

“I would stay like this all day,” you confess to him, afraid to put your foot out the door of his house because you know that once you are out everything will go back to the way it was before and you will go back to being the one forced to act a certain way, to be a certain way. You don't want to, you don't want to. But you have to.

Spending the night in his bed gave you back an ounce of courage that your mother had previously deprived you of, breathing in his strong scent relaxes you, being hugged by him all night long makes you feel good and peaceful all of a sudden. In the morning you wake up like this still hugging each other: you have your back to him, he still holds you tightly to him, you open your eyes, your eyes still pinch a little from the loud crying of the night before, but you feel better already. You feel him moving just behind you, mumbling some unintelligible words, and you find yourself smiling and turning slowly toward him with your face and then your torso. You watch, thanks to the first light of dawn filtering through his bedroom window, his face still stretched out, his lips parted, his beard growing.

You find him wonderful.

You don't want to disturb him, but you can't help the urge to caress him. You gently stroke with your fingertip the contour of his face, his angular nose, the barely noticeable wrinkle between his eyebrows, his forehead, his beard, then his lips.

Joel begins to wake up, smiling and muttering “Gmrning.” you find yourself smiling back before returning his greeting only to find your eyes in each other's. Those sweet chocolate eyes settle on you, he smiles at you and then holds you tightly to him again, you find yourself smiling at each other and exchanging sweet kisses, gently caressing each other.

“I'm here for you. If that's what you wish…” he smiles at you, caressing your face this time with a finger "you will be granted." he says placing a finger on your lips, you gently press your lips against his fingertip without looking away from his eyes. You love to see how the expression in his eyes changes when you do something especially good for him, how his eyes seem to get bigger and darker. Which happens even now.

“Joel…” you say without finish your sentence.

He whispers your name, he pronounce it with desire.

You bridge that very short distance that separates you at once, your lips rest against each other, they open in unison, and your tongues dance at first softly then almost wildly, it is a kiss that takes your breath away.

You wish he would touch you, you wish he would do more-- but you feel it, Joel is like he is always holding back with you. Maybe it's you who has to help him.

You take his hand and bring it to your breast, you know you will drive him crazy. Indeed, his breathing becomes shorter and you find yourself smiling into the kiss. Glad to have provoked a reaction in him.

“Little girl…” he says to your lips, his tone of voice should be a sort of a warning or do you imagine that's what he means using that tone, but you deliberately ignore his tone and instead you look him in the eyes for a long time before saying, “Will you teach me to make you feel as good as you did with me?”

His eyes become if possible even darker, “No.” he answers you dryly “Not yet. You're not ready.” he adds, swallowing.

“You're afraid.” you say moving away from him, he turns supine “You're afraid to cross the line with me, aren't you?” you insist, he looks at you “Well, we've already crossed it. I touch myself because of you, if I have to say it!” you add feeling the heat on your cheeks "You make me feel so good, why can't I do it with you too?" he doesn't answer you, he looks at the ceiling.

You also turn in a supine position, you look away. You don't say anything, you don't know what to say. If he doesn't want to, you cannot make him.

“You don't trust me.” you say after what to you seems like hours of silence, you turn completely away “All right.” you add feeling a knot in your throat, you first feel him move to the other side of the bed then you feel a hand caressing your side and finally you feel a strand of hair move and a kiss behind your ear. You shiver, wanting to hold the point, but you already know you won't last much longer, not with him kissing that sensitive portion of your skin and then moving down to kiss along your neck.

More shivers run down your spine as his unshaven beard brushes against your neck, you turn toward him finding yourself lost in a kiss again. He almost pulls you toward him, you groan from surprise and also from the arousal that is spreading inside you and spreads even more as he towers over you completely. He breaks the kiss and you find your eyes meeting. His hot breath breaks against you and you find yourself closing your eyes.

Like other times, anything could happen out there, but if you are with him you really don't care.

He places a kiss on the tip of your nose and you smile. You smile again.

“D' you wanna try somethin' new?” he asks.

You open your eyes nodding.

He sits in the middle of the bed, you also make to sit, but he shakes his head saying, “Stay down and lemme do it. Honey, if you feel uncomfortable, if you have any pain, stop me right now, okay?”

“What is this about?” you ask him leaning on your forearms.

He looks at you, “I want to touch that your tight little hole with my fingers.”

You flush more at his dirty tone of voice than at what he said, “Haven't you already done that?” you ask him uncertainly.

“Not exactly.” you look at him questioningly “I've only touched a small part of you, I'd like to go deeper.” you swallow “If you don't wanna to-”

“No, no!” you quickly interrupt him “All right. What should I do?” you ask him.

He leans toward you caging you in his arms, he lays a quick kiss on your lips and then returns to sit in the middle of the bed, “Can I take 'em off?”

You nod as he lays his hands on the elastic of your shorts, looks you once more in the eyes as if seeking your consent once more, consent which comes immediately by just raising your pelvis allowing him to remove your shorts and briefs in one move, remaining completely naked from the waist down.

It's not the first time he touches you, but this time you are completely exposed to his sight and it sends more discharges of arousal all along your body especially noticing his equally lust-filled gaze.

“Are you aroused yet?” he asks you.

He pounces on your lips almost sucking your lips and tongue together, you groan in surprise at that kiss so different from the others, “You are beautiful.” you tell him through your lips feeling him smile and looking into your eyes.

He grazes your nose with the tip of his nose, “You are perfect, baby.” he comments leaving a trail of moist kisses along the line of your jaw and then down your neck.

You drop your head back, blissfully surrendering to his lips and then to his hands gently resting on your breasts, moaning softly as you close your eyes.

You nod, “Yes.”

“Lemme see.” he says and then caresses with his left hand your thigh, then your inner thigh and finally there, your intimacy, you squeeze your eyes shut, he hasn't touched you yet and you already feel those familiar tremors inside you.

“You're already soaked.” he says, you open your eyes and look at him questioningly, “Is that wrong?” you ask him puzzled.

“Absolutely not.” he replies running a finger along your intimacy causing you to hold your breath “It means you're already ready.” he explains repeating the same motion back and forth, you find yourself biting your lower lip and clenching your toes feeling an ever-increasing heat spreading to your lower abdomen.

“R - ready for what?” you ask tremblingly, but curious.

“For me.” he answers you with lust-filled eyes as he continues that precise, slow movement “Relax, don't be afraid.” he tells you noticing your tense expression.

“I am not afraid.” you reply looking into his eyes, and it's true you know that whatever he will do, it won't hurt you. You know that you are safe with him and that you would do anything with him.

“Now I'm going to insert my finger inside your cunt,” you swallow “I'm going to do it very slowly, if you have pain or feel uncomfortable, tell me and I'll stop.” he says scrutinizing your face carefully, his gaze tense, focused, full of desire. You nod barely trembling with desire.

Slowly he slides inside you first just the calloused fingertip as you almost jerk to feel part of his finger inside your taut and tender flesh, you tremble with desire, a boiling desire that reverberates in every cell of your body; he stays like this for a while then slides the phalanx inside you, you drop your head on the pillow feeling you are in a world out of the ordinary, you find yourself spreading your lips wide as if searching for oxygen, moaning softly.

“Jus' a lil more.” he warns you before inserting the phalanx inside you. You clench the blankets in the fist of your hands and moan softly, “You're so excited, my baby.” you feel him kiss you on the lips, but you can't kiss him back, you're seeing stars behind your eyelids, it's indescribable.

Then, he sinks inside you again and you open your eyes suddenly, you look down and seeing his finger fully sinked inside you is an even more arousing sensation, feeling his long, thick finger reach such intimate parts of you makes you wet even more “How's it goin'?” he asks you.

Your vision is almost blurred, you are at a loss for words, you just nod.

He leans over to you and kisses you gently on the lips, slowly lets his finger out inside you and this hollow feeling makes you moan into his mouth, then slowly slips his finger back into you making you moan again. He repeats this movement with a slow rhythm that makes the desire inside you grow faster and faster. You moan surrendering to the pleasure he is giving you with that relentless rhythm of his, lips parted and completely exposed to him. Then, with a confident movement, Joel also touches your throbbing center sending you more discharges of pure lust, you no longer know what to focus on, whether on his finger touching hitherto unexplored areas of you or on the palm of his hand caressing your clit.

Hearing you moan against him makes him instinctively close his eyes and breathe deeply, he feels the contractions of your next climax squeeze his finger and the lust spreads strong inside him, he would have liked to make you cum in his mouth or around his cock, but he still has to restrain himself.

“How d' ya feel?” he asks after a couple of minutes of silence, giving you a cloud-light kiss on your neck as the waves of climax slowly leave you.

Your climax explodes violently causing you to gasp and clench the blankets even more tightly in your fist. The room suddenly becomes silent.

There is only your shortness of breath.

“Fine.” you reply, still nodding with your eyes closed.

He slowly kisses your forehead, then your cheek and finally your lips. You open your eyes and exchange a sweet smile.

“Would you like some breakfast?” you ask him after a while.

“Pancakes?” he offers.

You smile, “That'd be perfect.”

He nods chewing, “And that is?”

You slip back into your briefs and shorts and go downstairs to make breakfast.

You found out one more thing about him: Joel is a disaster in the kitchen, first he forgot to add milk to the mixture, then he dropped an egg on the floor in short you did nothing but laugh during this rocambolic breakfast preparation.

You manage after almost an hour to sit at his kitchen worktop eating your pancakes, you add some honey, raspberries and blueberries. You eat in silence, only exchanging long glances, then after you bite into the last piece, you tell him, “I've been thinking about the title of my story.”

“Bittersweet.” you reply, smiling at him.

You see him swallow, “What's it about?” he asks you.

“It's the story of a young woman and her music teacher, a man who is apparently an asshole, actually very sweet and who will help his student to become more and more confident,” you tell him in outline, turning to face him.

He smiles conspiratorially, “That reminds me of somethin'.”

“Huh, yeah!” you exclaim, returning that look and his smile.

“D' you wanna start writing now?” he asks you.

“Do you mind?” you ask him.

He turns to you, then gently taking your chin between his fingers he says, “If you ask me with these sweet eyes, I can't say no.” you lower your gaze for a moment, “Well, I'll take the opportunity to take a shower and then put up a couple of shelves in the living room. You set up wherever you like, here, in the study above, in the bedroom, wherever you like.”

What did you do to deserve such a man?

“Do you mind if I sit on the couch in the living room?” you ask him, this is his house and it seems more than fair to ask his permission before moving anywhere you want.

He leans toward you giving you a sweet kiss on the lips, “Wherever you want.” you smile, then lays his forehead against yours and takes his leave. He sees you turn on the computer, cross your legs and lay the laptop on your lap. He sees you open the program to write, Joel has never understood much about computers and stuff like that, he has always been an analog guy, always loved manual work.

Joel goes into his bedroom and lies down on the bed, feeling alive. He is feeling good for the first time in a long time, living the little moments of everyday life with you makes him feel good, alive and special. He didn't believe that someone like him after all he has experienced could again hold someone in his arms who makes him feel welcomed, loved, who tries to make him feel good, it is a wonderful feeling.

He breath deeply, the scent of you is still strong in his room.

Joel was about to give in earlier when you had asked him to pleasure him, was about to say okay, but that wouldn't have been right. Joel becomes more and more aware that yours is not just a physical attraction, yes of course there is that too. Yet when you are apart he cannot help but think of your scent, your eyes, your smile, your sweetness, your need to be welcomed, cuddled, loved.

“Fuck…” he says, resting his forehead against the shower wall.

He feels his cock throbbing at the thought of your narrowed eyes and wide-open mouth, as he was pleasuring you with his fingers for the first time, the memory of you so tight and wet causes him another jolt. He undresses completely and goes to the shower, he opens the water jet and finds himself thinking that he would love to have you here with him, he imagines what he would do if you were there together. He'd press you against the shower wall and you'd look at him with those wide eyes of yours in surprise, he'd kiss your neck and you'd close your eyes, he'd press himself against you and kiss every inch of your body, he'd feel you tense up and beg for more.

How he would love to have and give more!

He wraps his taut erection in his fist, the roar of the water covers his moans, his heavy breathing, the image of you clinging to him, your arms encircling his neck, he imagines you giving him pleasure. He grits his teeth to disguise the long moan that comes out of his mouth as streams of his hot seed fall partly into his fist and partly against the shower wall.

He washes himself thoroughly, then gets out of the shower. He dries off, puts on old jeans and a black T-shirt he usually uses to do chores around the house, and comes downstairs. He sees you drinking a glass of water in the kitchen, he reaches you out and he wraps his arms around you, and you smile sweetly at him, “How's the writing of your masterpiece goin'?” he asks.

“Don't tease me now,” you reply to him, setting the glass down in the sink.

“I'm not teasing you.” he says giving you a kiss under your ear “If 's something of yours, it's certainly unique. Beautiful. To me, a masterpiece.” you turn to him finding eyes in each other's eyes, he places a kiss on the tip of your nose, you chuckle "I hope everyone gets it, that you can work up the courage to sign up for some classes and they'll notice you, that they can read you sooner or later." he confides.

“Then I wouldn't be here with you anymore,” you say in a huff that makes the two of you feel sick.

Joel lays his hands on your forearms, he strokes you gently, then slides his hands behind your back, “I don't wanna you to be confined here. In this small town. You deserve places like Seattle, Los Angeles, New York, or even Europe. You deserve the world. I wish you could see all the wonders there are,” he tells you.

“You are all the wonder I want in my life,” you tell him.

“Oh, baby.” he says holding you in his arms and placing kisses on your cheek and forehead “You're so sweet, so…” he dips his nose into your hair and you close your eyes, you don't care what he wanted to add, the important thing is what you told him. At the moment you like to write, but you don't want to get away from him, you couldn't stand a world where he is not there. For you it would be intolerable.

[tryingtodotheright-thing]

Hello, Sunset - 9

AN: It ended up being a long wait so thank you to everyone who waited patiently. I think I'll be slowing my posting to one chapter a month. It was a lot of pressure to get a chapter written for every week (I put it on myself). I think this is more realistic and hopefully I'll enjoy the process more. I'm still trying to get into the flow of writing and none of this is proof read so please excuse mistakes. PAIRING: Seungcheol x fem!reader GENRE: exes to lovers, idol verse, angst WORD COUNT: 3,697 WARNINGS: reader has anxiety and depression, swearing, mentions of alcohol Text in blue is spoken/written in Korean. PREVIOUS / NEXT

The next three weeks in Japan fly by in the blink of an eye. Y/N made the most of her week’s rest in Kyoto before she moved to Tokyo for rehearsals. To her relief, the six nights of concerts across Japan went well. In fact, she was still buzzing from the last performance in Japan, when Fuji Kaze joined her as a surprise guest. She’s been rotating her discography, reworking songs to be duets based on who was joining her on stage as well as singing songs of the guest artist as a duet as well. She was enjoying learning from the experienced and talented musicians around her, not just the ones joining as guests but also the band who were playing live for her concerts. Y/N sometimes regretted not studying music as a subject in university. There was so much she didn’t know about music theory and often felt like she was making things up as she was going. The reassurance she received from the world-class musicians she worked with for the concerts boosted her confidence as an artist tremendously.

Y/N had just finished rehearsals for her first concert in Seoul tomorrow night. Out of all the famous celebrities she’s met since fame came into her life, the special guest for Seoul had been the person she had been most nervous yet desperate to meet. Y/N had been introduced to Kpop as a genre in 2007 when she was 11 years old by Eun Ji and one of the first bands she’d fallen in love with was BIGBANG. Everything about them had been cool to put it simply. The fact that she would be standing on stage and singing with Taeyang, the singer she’d admired for so long, is something Y/N still couldn’t get her head around.

The man was humble. Meeting him for the first time in person earlier today, Y/N couldn’t immediately connect that the person in front of her was the same one who’d put on a fearless performance in front of thousands. He’d walked in quietly in simple clothes and bowed politely to everyone in greeting and shook hands with all those who were involved in the production of the concert. He had asked if Y/N would be more comfortable speaking in English and foregoing honorifics but Y/N was too uncomfortable to refer to him as just Taeyang or Youngbae, remembering how he ruled the music scene in South Korea. 

“Taeyang sunbaenim, it’s such an honour to meet you! I can’t believe this is real,” Y/N had gushed.

“I really enjoyed listening to your latest album. I think it embodies why people say music feeds the soul.” 

He had blushed and thanked her before returning the compliments. The rehearsal that had followed still brought goosebumps to Y/N as she reminisced. Taeyang is Taeyang for a reason. 

Hearing a knock on her hotel room, Y/N got up from the sofa in her hotel suite. The boys were here. Knowing she’d be exhausted and would be flying out immediately after the second concert night, she had arranged to meet Joshua, Vernon and Seungkwan tonight for a meal instead. It was nothing elaborate, she’d ordered some food for them all to enjoy in her hotel suite. The boys had initially invited her to their dorm but she’d declined using rehearsal timings as an excuse. In reality, she’d said that as she didn’t want to take any chances. An article had been released when she was in Japan that Seungcheol would be using his outstanding holiday days and as a result, he would be discharged on 16 March 2026. The date was 19 March 2026 and whilst it was extremely unlikely Seungcheol would be anywhere near the dorms and was most definitely catching up with family in Daegu, Y/N was not going to try her luck. 

Opening the door, she was greeted with a blonde haired Joshua who immediately wrapped his arms around Y/N whilst Seungkwan and Vernon waved at her with occupied hands that carried more food. She ushered them in whilst Joshua still clung onto her like a koala and closed the door behind Vernon once they were all in.

“Hyung, get off. It’s our turn to hug, Noona.” 

Seungkwan pried Joshua’s claws off Y/N and was successful only because Joshua relented. Y/N was able to take a breath of freedom before she was engulfed in Seungkwan’s arms. She rubbed his back as he murmured his complaints of not seeing her for so long. Vernon peered over them hesitantly before shrugging and hugging her from the side. 

“Group hug!” 

Y/N groaned at the extra weight as Joshua joined in. Y/N took it all in, grateful that despite her disappearing act, they still cared for her and missed her. They eventually let go one by one, with Seungkwan the last to let go. She ruffled his fluffy brown hair in affection before patting his cheek as if to say she understood. If Joshua was the annoying elder brother, Seungkwan and Vernon were the adorable younger brothers she doted on. Y/N slung an arm around the shoulders of each 98 liner and guided them to the table where a delectable spread of Korean street food had been laid out for them to gorge on. Seungkwan and Vernon added to the feast some fried chicken and pizza as well as some soft drinks. Y/N was surprised the table didn’t give out under the weight of all of this food. She gestured for the boys to start eating and that she’d be right back. She ran to her room to grab the birthday presents she’d purchased for the three boys. When she returned to the living room of the suite, the boys stopped their conversation and turned to her. Deciding it was better off not knowing, Y/N ignored their suspicious act and passed each parcel to the correct member. She told them to open it later when they got home and they agreed, thanking her.

Slowly, the lingering awkwardness dissipated as the dynamics of their relationship came into play naturally. The target of their jokes was Joshua most of the time. Y/N would side with Seungkwan whilst Vernon would judge their antics as always. However, when Vernon joined in on the banter, the teasing was almost always aimed at Y/N. They joked about Y/N falling for Vernon’s tricks yet again as they munched on the food on offer. Y/N threw a rolled up tissue at the laughing men only to miss all three men, making them laugh harder. She caught up on what they’ve been up to, making sure they knew she’d done her best to keep up as she referenced Seungkwan’s latest appearance on a variety show. They updated her on their upcoming activities, from the maknae line’s album release to Joshua’s front page on the next Vogue issue. They spoke about Y/N’s tour, how this time was so different to her last tour due to its scale and how she envied the boys getting to tour together since it got lonely for her at times. She’d be flying to Hong Kong the morning after the second concert night. Joshua commented that it was a shame she won’t be spending much time in Seoul. Y/N suggested that they all come to her final show at the end of May in London and she promised to host them and play tour guide. 

“Yes, yes! I want to go to London! I can’t believe we still haven’t completed a Europe tour.” Seungkwan voiced with excitement.

“I always thought Seungcheol hyung would beat us to visiting you in London though.” 

Joshua slapped the back of Seungkwan’s head but it was too late; the words had already been spoken. It was as if someone had taken a big, sharp needle to a balloon. The safe space their camaraderie had built burst immediately. Joshua hesitated whether to acknowledge He Who Must Be Not Named. As much as Seungkwan had brought the male up with no warning and definitely no tact, Joshua had wanted to broach the subject. He’d spoken to Coups upon his discharge and as soon as the pleasantries had been spoken, his friend had brought up Y/N. Joshua had just told him she’s doing well and moved the conversation along but he knew Coups wasn’t satisfied.  

“Actually, Y/N-yah, a couple of days ago, I got a call from Cou-”

“Oh, look at the time! I really need to go to bed so I can make it to rehearsals in the morning.”

Joshua sighed at the avoidance and accepted that his friends would need to figure things out themselves. They said their goodbyes not long after wishing Y/N good luck for her performance the next day. Y/N refused to linger in the remorseful atmosphere and went straight to bed.

The moon gave way to the sunrise quickly. Y/N ate a light breakfast after freshening up, whilst pulling together a mental checklist of everything she would need to complete that day before the concert kicked off at 6pm. Soon, she was back at the concert venue for soundcheck. The next few hours passed in a flash as Y/N completed soundcheck, freshened up before putting herself under the care of her make up artist. The KSPO Dome was vast but cold, with spring not quite blooming in Seoul as the frost of winter still lingered in the air. Once Y/N was dressed in her first outfit for the concert, she’d sent a quick message of thanks to Joshua and the others with a picture of the flowers that rested in a tall vase of water in front of her. Cute, she’d called them. She hadn’t expected and was pleasantly surprised. 

When the trio had confirmed their attendance for her Seoul stop, Y/N had asked if they were sure. It had only been six months since the fiasco during the summer. She didn’t want to stir the pot again or start new fires. They had reassured her that there would be no problems; in fact, they’d encouraged her to recognise and mention during the concert if she felt comfortable to do so. The secrecy sometimes just blew things out of proportions. Maybe if they’d been open about their friendship from the beginning, it wouldn’t have been so easy for the narrative to turn against her. Y/N shook her head, as if the action would shake the thoughts out of her mind. She needed to focus on the present.

The next 30 minutes was a blur as she greeted Taeyang who had just arrived, got her mic set up and completed her last set of vocal warm ups. Then, she was on stage, almost blasted on to it actually. She loved it. Every second of it. Y/N had been content enough with her life before, satisfied enough to get by with a few loyal fans (most of whom were friends) and some comments on her YouTube channel. Now that she had experienced the adrenaline, the exhilaration of performing on stage, she knew that she could not give it up. It was like a drug. When others had explained it as such, she’d scoffed at them. She knew better now. It was pure ecstasy. The thrill that washes her from head to toe as she performed to thousands, who were all there to listen to her sing - there was nothing like it. She was sure that if pharma companies could come up with a way to bottle it up and sell it, they would make millions. Humans were greedy and she was human after all. Y/N wanted to be adored. She wanted to be treasured. She wanted to be needed. Being on stage filled gapes within her that she didn’t know existed. 

Soon, Y/N was singing her song ‘Honey’ and watched in amusement as she saw the jaws drop and the silent gasps from her audience as the stage door opened to reveal Taeyang as he sang along with her. It was the first time she’d rearranged this song as a duet and it came across much more playful as a duet. It was also fitting to sing a song called ‘Honey’ with the man whose voice melted hearts. After introducing Taeyang, Y/N had run off for an outfit change whilst he sang his latest release. People who had ever experienced performing would know that time flows differently during a show, of any kind. The moments on stage slowed down almost to the point as if you were watching a recording on your old VCR player, with the video rolling on 0.5 speed. As soon as your part was done and you moved backstage into the darkness, time sped up as if someone was pressing the control buttons, pressing the fast forward button again and again until you were back on stage. It’s how it felt to Y/N as she walked back on stage cheering Taeyang after he’d finished singing two songs on his own. After a small chat between them on stage, they’d moved to sing one last song together. 

“Please raise your hands together for the one and only Taeyang everyone!” 

Taeyang waved to the audience before walking off stage with a salute. Then, it was back to the program. Three songs later, Y/N was giving her final thanks to the audience before she sang the last song. She thanked the live band, the tour production team, the W Music staff and of course, the audience who had made the effort to come and see her perform. Emma had asked if she wanted to recognise any celebrities in the audience and Y/N had said no. She didn’t want to make a faux pas or miss anyone. She’d not done it before at her shows and she didn’t want it to seem as if she was deliberately calling attention to the SEVENTEEN members in the audience to validate her friendship. However, as she was finishing thanking her two best friends, Rachel and Eun Ji, who were in the audience, the spotlight and camera flicked to land on Joshua, Seungkwan and Vernon. The audience began to scream in excitement, and that’s when Y/N turned to face the screen and saw the trio on the screen. Y/N was grateful her back was to the audience and hoped people were distracted enough to not notice the panic on her face. 

“So SEVENTEEN is in the house today!”

Y/N remained standing with her back to the audience as if she was admiring them on the screen but in reality was avoiding hundreds of fancams of her reaction being filmed and uploaded to Twitter (nobody calls it X) and Instagram. She watched as they waved to the camera before Seungkwan raised his finger to the camera, gesturing to ask for a second. Confused, she turned back to look at them directly as if she could figure out what was going on better that way. She kept turning her head between the giant screen and there friends who were now standing up from their seats, even Vernon, who was in the middle. Joshua unravelled something in his hands and Seungkwan seemed to be helping him and then they were holding up a banner between the three of them that read, “Our Y/N is so cool!” 

Y/N giggled at their antics as Vernon threw his hands up in the air in jazz hands as Joshua and Seungkwan looked pleased that they could show off their banner. 

“Ah yes, thank you! Thank you!”

Joshua and Seungkwan rustled the banner as if they weren’t quite convinced they had gotten the message across. 

“Thank you, SEVENTEEN. SEVENTEEN is also cool!”

Joshua and Seungkwan looked to be relaxing and Y/N laughed at the relief on Vernon’s face at the thought of being able to lower his arms that must now be aching but then Joshua and Seungkwan nodded at each other and held up the banner higher with a flourish and Vernon tipped his head back and sighed before putting up his jazz hands again.

“I get it. I’m cool. Now stop it. Stop it!”

Joshua gestured as if to ask her if she saw the sign. 

“Yes, I saw it and I appreciate it. Now sit down and let me continue with the show. This isn’t GOING SEVENTEEN.”

Seungkwan showed the okay sign and the trio sat back down. The audience’s laughter slowly teetered to an end. 

“I promise I didn’t bribe them to do that.”

The audience gave a short chuckle at that. The tour producer told her to wrap up and move to the last song in her in-ear. Y/N walked to the chair and the stand mic that was set up in the middle of the stage. She picked up the acoustic guitar that was seated on the chair and sat down. 

“Thank you for joining the Shining tour in Seoul and this is Stripes.” 

Y/N strummed the guitar to play the instrumental opening of the song that started it all. A costume change and a 20-minute encore later, Y/N was in the green room of Taeyang, who’d stayed to watch the rest of the show. She was bowing and thanking him for the nth time for his guest appearance. He wouldn’t be joining her tomorrow as he could only commit to tonight’s show. Y/N gave her final thanks and asked him to let her know if he ever needed her to return the favour and of course if he would like tickets for any of her upcoming shows. 

“I’ll definitely take you up on that offer!”

“Please do, sunbaenim! Just let me know when and where, I would be happy to -”

“Noona! Noona! Where are you?”

Seungkwan’s calls from the corridor caught their ears. Taeyang chuckled and said he would leave her with her guests. Y/N followed Taeyang and his team out of the room and saw Seungkwan a few yards away peeking into her own dressing room. Y/N rushed towards Seungkwan and saw Joshua and Vernon had now also arrived backstage. The boys greeted Taeyang and they spoke briefly before he left to go home. Then, it was just the four of them if you ignored all the staff who were rushing to finish the last of tidying up for the next night so they could get back for some sleep. 

“Wow, you were so cool! So amazing! How do you sing like that?!” 

All three of them said a variation of compliments, exclaiming how much they had enjoyed the show and were blown by the performance. They didn’t linger for long as they could see Y/N was scared. They promised they’ll be back for tomorrow’s performance as well and hugged her goodbye. Joshua hesitated to follow the others and leave. He asked the 98 line to head back first and that he would be there soon. 

“Y/N?” 

She was busy packing up her personal items into her tote bag and looked up briefly to acknowledge she was listening before returning to the task.

“Coups messaged me tonight. He saw that we were at the concert.”

Y/N stilled for a second before forcing herself to keep moving, and continued packing. She knew Joshua had more to say. 

“He knows you’ve got the concert tomorrow night and that you’re flying straight after.”

Y/N put the now packed bag to the side and gave her full attention to Joshua. He looked nervous and uncomfortable. Whatever message he was passing on, Y/N could tell he was worried about her reaction. She could tell where this was going.

“I tried to mention this last night but you … anyways, uhmm, he asked me again if I could pass on a message for him.” Joshua paused when he saw Y/N take a deep breath. She nodded for him to carry on.

“I know it might be too late but I wonder if you too are hoping if we can talk. I know I’m being selfish but whether it’s new beginnings or goodbyes, I think you deserve an apology and I deserve to share my side too … uhm that’s what he said.”

As if to prove it, Joshua held up his KakaoTalk messages for Y/N to read. Y/N saw that he had also asked if he could come to tomorrow night’s concert instead of one of the others, which Joshua hadn’t mentioned, probably assuming she wouldn’t agree to that idea. 

“It’s getting late, you should go home, Josh.”

Joshua nodded but didn’t make a move. He didn’t know whether to push for an answer so he could update his bandmate or leave his friend so she can gather her thoughts and sleep on it. Deciding he had already pushed his luck and it was unfair to ask for more right now, Joshua nodded to himself that leaving now was the right decision. He hugged Y/N from the side since she was facing the mirror and taking off her makeup.

“I’m sorry for springing this on you. I just didn’t want either of you to regret missing the chance. I won’t say anything more on this, okay? Goodnight Y/N, make sure you get home soon, okay.”

He let go of her and walked away. Vernon had closed the door to her dressing room earlier so Joshua twisted the handle and pulled the door open. He saw Vernon and Seungkwan hovering just in the periphery, waiting for him. They were probably guessing about their discussion and most likely had been correct on the topic. 

“Bye, Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Josh?” 

He pivoted to face her again with the door still open. 

“I’ll ask for an extra ticket to be left at the door. Good night.” 

Joshua wished his friend goodnight and closed the door behind him. He really hoped that tomorrow would bring a happier outcome for all of them. 

[okwritingandpain]

Penny Lane's Getting Better (The Beatles x Reader)

Chapter 5: All My Loving

You hate school. You hate it a lot more than you expected you would. Now it wasn't because of your classes, but rather the absolute trash fire that John and Paul's relationship was.

They fought at every hour of every day and you couldn't avoid it. It didn't help that you had recently become John's girlfriend, which made you an easy target for Paul to vent his frustrations. You wanted to rip out his vocal chords, but decided not to as he was a good singer.

"..and then he just walked away!" Paul was blabbering about some sort of argument he had with John earlier that day. It was lunch time, but none of the other guys were around except for Paul. You silently play with your fork, pretending to listen to Paul's lengthy story. When did he become so annoying?

"Are you even listening to me?" Paul suddenly asks. You snap out of your daze and stare at him. He sighs, already knowing the answer. You rub your eyes, hoping Ringo or George would show up already.

"Where are the rest of the guys?" You finally ask Paul. He raises and eyebrow, chomping down on some salad he stole off some girls tray.

"Ringo is sick, remember? George and John dipped today," Paul explains. You groan at the fact you're stuck with Paul for the rest of the day.

"Are you serious? Why'd they dip?" You question, slamming your tray on the table next to him.

You both sat outside in the gray weather. The white lillies bloomed in bushes near the small outdoor area. Usually you and the guys ate lunch together under the nearby oak tree, but recently the group had become pretty divided.

"I heard that John got a solo gig at a local place and he invited George to play bass instead of me," Paul mutters. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette.

"I'm sure that's not true, Paul," you say with a frown. He shakes his head, muttering under his breath. The cigarette hangs from his mouth as he searches for his lighter.

"I wish you were right." He lights the cigarette and takes a long drag. You cough which makes him snort.

"So what now? Are you just going to follow me around all the time now?" You ask, almost jokingly.

"Pretty much," he replies instantly. You frown. Of course he was serious about it.

"I have a life outside of you and the boys, you know."

"I don't see you doing anything else besides hanging out with us,"

"At this point, I'd rather be on my own than with you guys,"

"Is it that bad?"

"It's worse," you say, poking around your food.

Paul sits on the table, looking down at you. He takes another drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke surround him like a darkening fog.

"You really like John, huh?" he asks, looking up into the distance where the school sits. The gray building is bustling with students heading in from lunch. Class must be starting soon.

"I do," you reply. You're not sure what Paul is getting at, but you can tell he's holding something in.

"I get that." His comment is confusing, but he doesn't look at you. He mutters something to himself and then shakes his head, standing up from the table. He extends his hand to take you back to the school. You roll your eyes and take his hand.

John hasn't walked you home from school in days. You feel a little disappointed, like he didn't want to be around you anymore. Of course, since he hasn't been around, Paul's been following you everywhere.

"If you could be any musical instrument, what would you be?" Paul asks, following behind you. You're passing the fire station which is where Paul throws his cigarette on the ground.

"That's a stupid question," you reply. You were growing tired of Paul, and you honestly wanted nothing more to do with John or the others. Ringo might be the only one who had a pass from her because he was sick.

"It's not stupid, it's a question," he says. He's humming some song that he was writing. The band hadn't met up in awhile though.

"I would want to be any instrument you can't play," you mutter. Paul hears this and smirks a little.

"Than you must be pretty obscure." He grabs your arm, pulling you towards him. His hand lets you go almost immediately as he points at a small bakery across the street. He gives you a quick smile before pulling you towards the bakery.

"Paul, I need to get home," you say, fighting his every move. He doesn't seem to care as you enter the shop. The smell of freshly baked bread wafts through the air, making your mouth water. You try to hide how much you love the smell, so Paul didn't notice.

He stares at rolls, croissants, donuts, and more. It's like a paradise of bread and sweets that you could devour within an instant. Except you didn't have money and you did actually need to get home.

"I'll take two croissants please," Paul tells the clerk.

"Paul, I don't need one--"

"Yes, you do," he cuts in. You roll your eyes, sifting through your pockets for some cash of any kind to give him. You know he would refuse it anyhow, but you couldn't help it. He hands the clerk some money and in return he gains croissants. He walks back over to you with a dorky smile, handing you one of them. You reluctantly take it from him.

"Thank you," you whisper, admiring the golden bread in your hand. He smiles at you, taking a big bite of his own. You can't help but notice the way he is staring at you.

Originally you may have thought he liked you, but this stare feels different. It feels more genuine, more friendly than it ever had been. He almost seems to be holding something back, but you can't quite place what that is. 

"Y/N," Paul whispers, staring at the floor. He looks like he's on the verge of tears. Her heart begins to swell with sadness, what happened between him and John? What happened...

"Paul--"

"There's my girlfriend," John walks into the bakery. He grabs her shoulders and leans in for a kiss. She reluctantly kisses him back. "Hanging out with Paul I see," he mutters. Paul looks up at his once best friend and quickly backs away.

"He was just walking me home since you've wanted nothing to do with me for the last few days!" you snap at him. He glares at you and steps away to the counter. He orders something for himself, while you recollect yourself.

"I'm sorry," Paul says.

"It's not your fault," you reply.

"It might actually be," he replies before John ushers you out of the bakery. You look back at Paul one more time before following John down the street towards your houses.

You both don't say anything, the air is tense and prickly. You want nothing more than to leave his side. You hadn't expected him to act so cruel after you started dating.

"I want to take you out tomorrow," he says. You frown, stopping your pace. He keeps walking but stops to look behind at you.

"I'm not going out with you until you tell me what's going on between you and Paul," you hissed. You were done with all this nonsense.

"What is there to say? Me and Paul aren't that close right now okay!?" he shouts back at you.

"Why?" you ask, quietly. He pauses unsure what to tell you, the truth or the partial truth.

"He likes you," he replies.

"Like you do?"

"Not exactly," John shakes his head, muttering to himself.

"Then what does he feel, John?" You urge. What could they possibly be beating around the bush so much? What was so important?

"I don't know if I can tell you, if I can trust you," John replies. He looks defeated as he collapses onto the street. He sits cross legged with his head in his hands.

"Trust me?" You say, kneeling beside him. You look into his eyes which look back at you with more love than you could imagine.

"It will come with time," he whispers back.

"Then you will go out with me another time," you reply back. Standing up, you walk back to your house without John. You can feel his eyes watching you leave.

"I'm sorry, John," you whisper to yourself before you walk into your house where your family is waiting.

"Where's John?" Your mother asks, but she sounds more urgent than usual.

"He's down the street, what's going on?" you ask, suddenly feeling your heart drop in your chest. Something happened. What happened? WHAT HAPPENED?

"Mimi found Paul a couple miles from here," she says, her hands shaking.

"What the hell's going on, mom?"

"He was trying to catch a train out of the city..."

You feel your heart return. You thought the worst had happened, but it looks like everything is alright.

"Thank god," you whisper.

"John was supposed to take him and the band to a city nearby, but I heard about the fighting...I guess Paul was going to talk to John," Your mother explains.

You glance at your father whose face is stoic, he rubs your sister's back trying to reassure her. She's crying into his side which makes you want to rush over and hug her.

Your mother still seems worried which you don't quite understand. Paul was okay, right?

Paul was okay.

"Honey, he got hit by a car."

@sabrielka-133

[twsted-kinks]

Ok hear me out! Idk why but I feel like Riddle has a collar kink or like sm with bdsm. He's literally always putting people in collars and GOD I wish it was me!

Can I get reader (w/ praise kink) /Riddle (who likes bdsm) I feel like it'd be really fun!

.

.

Also! Thank you for taking time out of your day (or night) to look at my horny thoughts! I appreciate it! Have a fabulous rest of your day!

>ageless and minors dni<

I usually see Riddle as submissive but the few times I can see him being dominant it's him role-playing and using his collars djsjdhd. I'm gonna include some other bdsm stuff I'm into mostly because I think spankings can be a reward as much as it can be a punishment but you never see it. So I'm gonna write it. Cause I like it.

Riddle x Reader/MC: Collared Rose (NSFW)

Established relationship, Dom Riddle Sub Reader, gender neutral reader (they/them), reader is Yuu

Content Warning: submissive reader/reader in subspace, spanking, praise, ambiguous oral sex, if I missed something let me know

The day is finally over. Two large exams, a mile run, putting out a fire started by Grim, all of it. Finally over. All Yuu wanted in this moment is to be with their boyfriend and just relax, no thinking. When Yuu enter their boyfriend's bedroom, Riddle greets them with a small smile that quickly turns into a worried expression when they flop onto his bed, not even bothering to take off their bag.

"Are you alright, my rose?" Riddle asks as he sets down his book.

"Yeah, just tired." Yuu grumbles into the bed sheets and then flips over. "Had a lot of big things today, but hey, I got it done. Thanks again for helpingme study. I don't think I got a 100, but I think I did decent enough to not bring my current grades down in those classes."

"And you should feel proud of that. For someone who knew nothing about this world earlier this year, you've made a lot of progress." Riddle stands, walks over to Yuu, and sits on the bed next to them.

Yuu sits up and leans against Riddle, resting their head on his shoulder. "I've been good today, right?"

"Yes." Riddle kisses the top of their hair. "You've done well."

"Can I... Can I get a reward?"

Riddle smiles. "Yes, you may. You've been very good, so you can choose. What would you like, my love?"

Yuu mumbles into his shoulder.

"Can you repeat that? I didn't hear you."

"I want the collar and riding crop."

"Alright, you go ahead and get undressed while I get the crop." Riddle kisses Yuu's head again before getting up.

Yuu quickly undresses, folding all of their clothes and setting them to the side, and crawls onto Riddle's bed. They sit on their knees and wait. After some time, Riddle walks back, crop in hand, and stands in front of Yuu.

"We'll be using the light system for safe words. Do you remember what each color means?" Riddle asks.

Yuu answers readily. "Green means all good. Yellow means caution and we need to check in. Red means stop everything."

"Good." Riddle reaches out and cups Yuu's face. "Are you ready, my rose?"

"Yes, my queen. Please, I- I've been good. Will you please reward me?"

"Of course." Riddle leans down, lips gently meeting Yuu's. He pulls away and whispers, "Off with her head."

In a short flash, a cold metal collar hangs on Yuu's neck. They bite their lip, trying to soften their moan, as their thighs press together.

"You've been so good. A wonderful example." Riddle kisses Yuu again. "Lean over the bed. I'll give you your reward."

Yuu eagerly shifts, moving their hips off the side of the bed with their feet to the floor. Riddle moves off of the bed and pauses, admiring the view in front of him. He reaches down and caresses the flesh of Yuu's ass, squeezing the soft fat.

"You're so beautiful." Riddle steps back and slaps the crop into his hand, making Yuu jump a bit at the sound. Slowly, Riddle runs the edge of the riding crop up along Yuu's thigh. "Perfect in your own imperfection." Riddle pauses as the end of the crop near's Yuu's core. Yuu's thighs squeeze together.

"Open your legs. I want to see all of you, all of my beautiful rose." Riddle commands.

Yuu does as they're told and is rewarded with a hard smack across their ass. They moan as their knees buckle.

"Was that hard enough?" Riddle asks.

"Yes- Fuck yes." Yuu begins to pant. "Green. So fucking green."

"Alright then. Count each one for me."

Riddle spanks Yuu again and again with the crop. Each time they moan, they squirm, as they try to count each hit. Their ass gets redder and redder, more and marks being added.

"R-Riddle, please."

"Ah? What are you meant to call me."

"My Queen."

"Good." Riddle carasses Yuu's ass again. "Now tell me what you want, my rose."

"May I cum, My Queen?"

"Of course, my rose." Riddle kneels down. "Spread yourself for me." Yuu does as they're told, reaching behind them and revealing their core even more. Riddle sees their hold pulse in anticipation, his breath already making them moan. Riddle leans in and kisses their hole before running his tongue along it. He groans as he dips his tongue into Yuu as his hand moves to Yuu's clit/cock and slowly begins to stroke it.

"Fuck, Riddle- My Queen. Faster, please!" Yuu moans as they push their hips back. Riddle complies, quickening his tongue and hand, as Yuu's breathing becomes more and more ragged. Yuu is practically humping his face as their legs shake below them. Finally, with a loud moan, Yuu's hole squeezes around Riddle's tongue as their clit/cock pulses in his fingers. Their fluids drench the bedding below them.

"Such a beautiful rose." Riddle pulls his face away before giving Yuu's hole another kiss. "My beautiful rose."

[grandhotelabyss]

Thoughts on Trump picking a writer as VP?

I haven't read Vance's book, so I don't know if he's a good writer, but I've heard it's a reasonably effective memoir, written mostly before he had this level of political ambition.

I just read his personal essay about his conversion to Catholicism today. I am cautious around writing that proclaims its humility and thereby forces me to search for its will to power; this is why I proclaim my will to power and allow you, but only if you want, to discover my humility, my debility, my "male vulnerability." Other than that, the essay is most moving and persuasive where it refutes the simplistic materialism of the likes of analytic philosophers and Sam Harris, and where he details his real spiritual experiences (I believe him). His critique of the left's superficially compassionate but actually cruel attitude toward the poor ("like sympathy for a zoo animal") is also exactly right. But I find it overly solemn, anxious, barely concealing the abandonment of his natal Protestantism for its plebeian or peasant quality—no less part of his desire for acceptance by an elite than was his earlier atheism. I was raised in plebeian or peasant Catholicism myself, on the other hand, which has nothing at all to do with the authorities he cites, like René Girard and St. Augustine. I look slightly askance on adult converts drawn in by the theology and morality. It has always seemed to me that the point of Catholicism—and I mean this much more religiously and much less blasphemously than it sounds—is the architecture and the incense, the barely sublimated sex and the eros of death. But I also love, as an outsider, the reckless, almost doom-seeking individualism of certain strains of Protestantism, some of them laundered as atheism. Since these seem to me to be the point of America, I am wary of overly intellectual Catholics and social democrats, their philosophies literally reeking of the over-crowded warrens of 19th-century Europe, moralistically tut-tutting about it. His second long quotation from Augustine gives me a chill, not in a good way. "[I]n his own affairs let everyone with impunity do what he will in company with his own family, and with those who willingly join him," our theologian jeers. Yes, Bishop, that's the American dream. Why not be a climate-doomer de-growther flinging soup in a museum with an attitude like that? The solution to poverty is abundance.

Possibly more significant for practical purposes, however, is Vance's tie to the literary-philosophical network around the Silicon Valley dissidents: Yarvin, BAP, and their associated publications and social media presences. (This is a good time to revisit James Pogue's Vanity Fair piece on the new right from 2022.) As Walter Kirn observed yesterday, that makes this election different from the last two. The last two were organized around the force of Trump's personality as he tried to hold together a fraying and fracturing Republican coalition of "provincial capital" (the proverbial boat dealer), the (mostly but not entirely) white working class, and the old Reagan Republican business constituencies of defense and energy, even as finance defected to the Democrats, while entertainment, academia, and intelligence pursued total war against their almost undefended reactionary enemy. The belligerent entrance of Musk and Andreessen into this election on Trump's side as representatives of big tech, with Vance as the political figurehead of big tech's literary and philosophical vanguard wing, makes it a much more even and generally significant contest: a true class war between incumbent and emergent elites. Literature has played no small part in this class war, as so many now widely-read writers and thinkers, love them or hate them, have resigned from the old left-liberal consensus. I don't mean to sound excessively neutral on the subject, but I belong to neither of the contending classes, and neither is at all democratic. I'm still not totally sure how the emergent elites' values are connected to a downbeat puritanical Augustinian Catholicism either, but since it seems to have everything to do with the aforesaid René Girard, we are still in the realm of literary theory if not literature.

In any case, the service of literature to any political faction or project should be the taming of its worser tendencies and the opening of its members to dialogue, irony, sympathy, and fresh perspectives. I will be told this is too idealistic.

[it-happened-one-fic]

Rumba - That Unfamiliar Side - Strictly NRC Dancing

Author Notes: I'm posting early because I don't trust myself to remember to do so later. Today has been a little busy. But anyway, this fic was nerve-wracking because it is always nerve-wracking to write this character. I really want to do him justice but that is easier said than done. The dance in this fic was heavily inspired by Courtney and Gev’s Rumba to “Wishing on a Star” by Rose Royce from Season 4 of So You Think You Can Dance. Just like the rest of this AU/series the reader is female for this fic. I hope you enjoy!

If you would like to read more this AU/series, the fics can be found here: Strictly NRC Dancing AU Master-List

Type: Dance AU/fluff/kind of romantic/female reader

Word count: 1419 words

We genuinely seemed to be unable to get out of the Latin/rhythm dances since we were doing the second one in a row for this class. But this one was, according to both Trein and Crewel, different from the others. It wasn’t as aggressive, fast-paced, or energetic as the samba or the paso doble. 

No, this one was a slower, slinkier dance that was sometimes referred to as the Dance of Love. This time, I was dancing the rumba.

A dance that required a heavy amount of intimate, non-verbal communication between partners. The results could be both beautiful and steamy depending on who performed it. But my first partner of the day was Floyd, so steamy was definitely not to be expected.

Not that Floyd was a bad partner. In fact, he already knew how to perform several different dances and, according to him, swing was best.

I wasn’t surprised by that statement though, since this wasn’t the first time I’d danced with Floyd. There had been numerous times when I would enter the Monstro Lounge and be swept into some sort of dance. Be it swing, disco, or something else entirely.

Floyd was definitely well-versed in dancing, and I could not deny that the rather chaotic young man was also elegant in his own strange sort of way. Though he didn’t necessarily show it through his everyday motions like his twin, Floyd did have a certain innate grace, which often came out to play at the strangest of times.

My only concern was whether or not he would get bored and ditch part of the way through the performance. After all, since the rumba was a slow dance, even with Floyd’s innate love for dancing, he could grow bored. But choreography practice had wiped that fear from my mind. 

During practice, it quickly became evident that Floyd was not going to abandon our performance. If only for the choreography Crewel had devised for us, with Floyd allowed to make his own contributions. 

So I was, if anything, excited when it came time to perform. 

The room was dark as the music started, and I sat on Floyd’s shoulder with one arm outstretched towards the ceiling and the sky beyond it. I smiled to myself as I recalled Floyd’s earlier teasing about whether or not I was afraid of heights. 

I couldn’t deny that this was indeed incredibly high in the air considering I was just sitting on a man’s shoulder. But then Floyd was incredibly tall. Either way, I wouldn’t be up here for long.

I leaned back with my arms reaching back over my head as I arched my back and began to slowly slide back and over Floyd’s shoulder as I grasped his leg. His arm wrapped around me, supporting me as he helped me along and down to the floor, where I was then lying on my back, looking up at the young man who now towered over me.

I held his gaze as he leaned over, a slight grin appearing on his face as he reached down and pulled me back up to my feet like I weighed absolutely nothing. I smiled back briefly, but we didn’t stay still long before we started across the floor. 

My hand was still in his as I sashayed along the floor, exchanging glances with the young man as I followed his lead.

He pulled me along in front of him, and I twisted, almost like I was trying to keep him in my field of vision, only for him to rapidly twirl me. But such rapid motions were a big part of what made the rumba such an interesting dance. 

While it was a mostly slow dance, it was interspersed with sudden rapid motions that, if done incorrectly, made for a jarring effect. But, when they were done correctly, they created interest and a sense of intensity that was found in many of the Latin/rhythm dances.

But that rapid pacing didn’t last long as we slinked across the floor with our hands interlocked but our bodies a fairly wide distance apart. Then I spun once more, put my back to Floyd, and leaned against him. Allowing him to lean backwards with me before I knelt in a low spin and was pulled back up into a dip in yet another surprisingly fast transition of positions.

That didn’t last long either though, since I was soon back upright and entering a closed hold for the briefest of moments. I let my gaze flick up and meet his just before we separated and I danced across the floor and away from him.

The song built as I rejoined him though, twirling across the floor and kneeling as he grasped my arms and spun freely with me in a low hold. 

It was then that the song truly began to pick up in tempo as we raced towards the climax of both the dance and the song. I leaned back, relying wholly on him to support me as we spun, before I straightened and locked my arms around his neck in a close embrace while he pulled me backwards across the dancefloor.

It was here that we stayed our closest. In a dance where we had been largely separate, our bodies were now plastered together and our breaths mingled in the minimal space that was between us as we moved our hips in the manner that rumba was so well known for.

 Those figure eight patterns that added the sensuality to our dance as we both dipped closer to the ground.

But then the song relaxed once more and I spun out before Floyd whipped me back around. My leg wrapped around his waist as my arms wrapped, almost instinctively, back around his neck. 

 We stared at each other for a beat and I realized that this was a Floyd I was less experienced with. This one retained a certain seriousness even as his mismatched eyes sparkled at me. 

And then that brief moment of realization came to an end as he slowly, and with incredible gentleness that I hadn’t known he was capable of, lowered me to the ground with me still looking up at him. He followed me down though, lowering himself into a kneeling position as he looked down at me with an indefinable expression.

The crowd erupted in applause, and I blinked, briefly startled at the sudden, loud noise that surrounded us. But in truth, I had somehow managed to forget about our audience’s presence.

 At some point I’d become so totally wrapped up in the dance that it had just been  me and that unfamiliar side of Floyd which now disappeared as he tugged me to my feet with a wide grin on his face. 

Floyd had, to me, always been a fairly free being who was unpredictable, but ever true to himself. And I suppose in that way he was like the rumba itself. A technically slow dance that would suddenly have a fast motion to accent its overall mood. Ever true to itself and, when executed properly, mesmerizing to see.

As I glanced over at the now grinning merman on legs, who was once more his usual happy self that moved to his own rhythm, I found myself smiling. Who knew Floyd was capable of such delicacy and intentness?

It truly had felt like I was the only thing in his world while we danced. And, embarrassingly enough, I could say the same was true for me. During our performance, it had just been me and Floyd, with nobody else in the world.

I couldn’t deny that, in an odd way, I was still slightly dazed as we received our scores. I didn’t even realize that we’d passed until Floyd had picked me up and was hugging me while he spun, laughing all the while.

Startled laughter bubbled out of me while Trein scolded us both, telling Floyd to put me down so the rest of rumba class could be graded.

There was a pout on Floyd’s face as he complied, mumbling something about how everyone else may as well call it quits since ours was bound to be the best performance of the evening.

But then he glanced my way, a distinct sparkle in his mismatched eyes as he gave me one final squeeze of a hug and wink before releasing me and walking away. Assuring me all the while that he would watch the rest of my performances before he ditched.

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[rsedits9420]

A little angsty bur getting into a fight with Estapa

I’m leaving

Word count: 1.8k

Mark Estapa blurb

Masterlist

Y/n

“Hey! Have you guys seen Mark recently? He was supposed to meet me at this Italian restaurant for our 6 months, but he never showed up.” I ask my boyfriend’s roommates. They all look at me puzzled. “I haven’t seen him since he left for class this morning. It’s weird that he didn’t show. Definitely not like him.” Ethan responds. Well I guess they aren’t going to be much help. “Oh ok. Well, I’m probably going to just go home then. If you see him, tell him to call me please. I'm worried.” “Hey y/n I’m sure he’s fine. Don’t worry.” Luke says. They all say their goodbyes, and I leave.

Mark has never done this. It was definitely not something he would do. I mean we have been talking about it for weeks. The worst part is I got all dressed up, to just sit and eat alone. I sit by my phone hoping that he will call. I mean I have been calling him for hours, but I’m met with no response. But for some reason, I can't help but assume the worst. Maybe he’ll call me back.

Mark

A few hours earlier

I hate sitting in this business lecture. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t dislike the subject, but it’s the instructor I can’t stand. He’s always yapping about something other than the actual lesson. And because of that I have a 74 as my grade. I need to get it up to at least a B, or my parents will have my neck. Even when I’m 21, they still cares about my grades. That’s the life of someone who has teachers as parents. Right now I’m zoned out thinking about the upcoming game this weekend. We play Ohio State, and it’s going to be rough.

I’m brought back to reality, when Mr. Davis announces we are doing a partnership project. Damn it. The one class I have nobody I enjoy talking to, we get a project with a partner. All of a sudden a beautiful blonde girl walks up to me and asks,” Hey Marky! Do you want to work with me? I heard you are super smart, and I might need some help?” It’s Tori. I’ve heard of her from y/n. She seems okay, she's gorgeous that’s for sure. “What class are you?” I ask. “Oh Mark, I'm a sophomore, you silly!” What the hell. How does she even know I’m a sophomore? I’m pretty sure I’m making a face, when she says,” Oh don’t worry. I’m not a stalker or anything, I just watch you on the hockey team a lot. You are really good by the way! You're super hot too, so that gives me another reason to watch” She says the last part while twirling her hair. “Uh thanks.” I responded. “Well, do you want to go work on it at my dorm? My roommate should be gone anyways.” She asked. “Uh okay. I’ll meet you there, just write down your address.” I say back. This all reminds me of y/n. I haven’t heard from her today. I wonder why? Eh it’s probably nothing big.

I get to her dorm at around 5. I stopped by the rink to talk to the coach real quick. He had talked about my penalties. Always the penalties. Tori had said she stopped to get coffee, and she picked me up a coffee with 3 sugars and 2 creams. I have no clue how she knew that, but I’m not going to waste my time and find out. She asked me to sit on her bed with her and I complied. Her dorm is pretty small with just a bed and a desk on her side. My 6 '2 self doesn’t fit in those tiny desks so, the bed it is. I can’t help but to wonder about y/n again. She still hasn’t texted, so maybe she’s busy. I look at my phone to check when I get the 5% battery notification. Dammit I should have brought a charger. I turn down the brightness and put my phone on low power mode. Hopefully that will help.

After about 20 minutes of her talking my head off, we finally started. She also can’t stay still. She keeps moving from the desk to right next to me. She’s been sitting next to me on the bed for almost 15 minutes so maybe she made up her mind. We are both slightly laying while also sitting up propped up by the head board. She gets her laptop so we can start the project. We have to make a slideshow on how partnership can positively and negatively affect a business. We have to provide a famous example for each. I’m probably going to end up doing it all judge on how Tori can’t stop talking about random things. “Did you know you have pretty eyes?” What the fuck? Random. “Uh no.” I say. She bats her eyelashes at me and says,” Well you do, pretty boy.” I ignore her and continue on the project. I go to look at my phone and it turns out I died. You’ve got to be kidding. “Marky!! Her look!” She quickly pulls out her phone to snaps a picture.” I try to see what it looks like but I can’t fully see it. Eh, who cares. I go back to working on the project for the next hour.

Y/n

I’ve been trying to distract myself. I’ve tried watching movies, cleaning my apartment, and now listening to music in my bed. He still hasn’t called or even gone home. It’s currently 9:24 and he’s yet to be seen by anyone. I’m borderline paranoid. I can’t help but feel like something happened to him. I grab my phone to check again when I’m met with a text from Dylan.

Duker: hey y/n. Um I don’t know how to tell you this but I know that I should. This is what some girl posted on her snap story an hour ago. All the boys have tried to get in touch with him and they haven’t gotten any responses. We are sorry. If you want to come over we will all be here for you.

He sent an image of Mark next to this blonde in a bed. It’s fucking Tori! The one who will flirt with him right in front of me and doesn’t even care that I'm there. They are sitting awfully close too. She’s practically laying on him. My stomach drops. He has his hand on her thigh. She even captioned it “study dates with this hottie”. We’re they on a date?!? He skipped out on our 6 month anniversary dinner to go hang out with some girl in her dorm?!?! I feel betrayed. I’m trying my hardest to choke back sobs but it’s no use. I’m bawling. I thought I had it. He treated me so well too. He had me fooled. I’m stupid for believing that this wouldn’t happen. I should have known. I quickly grab my keys and head to the boys house. Who cares, it doesn’t look like he’ll be coming home anytime soon anyways. I get in my car and go.

Mark

I finally left 20 minutes ago. I’m rushing home so I can get to bed at a decent hour, when my phone finally turns back on after being in the charger. I look at it and see 45 missed calls and 67 texts. What the hell?!? I went back to call the last person who called me and it was Mackie. The call connects when he says,” Man. You need to get your ass home now. You’ve got a shit ton of explaining to do. She’s pissed at you, Mark. And honestly we all agree with her.” Then he hangs up without letting me get a word in. Who’s pissed? Is it y/n? What did I do?

I rush into the apartment when I’m met with Mackie, Ethan, and Nolan?!? Why’s he here? “Dude what the hell?!?” Nolan shouts. “She waited on you for 2 hours and you never showed. Instead you were on a date with some fucking puck bunny.”, “I’m your best friend, but you really fucked up Mark.” E says. “What did I do?” I question. “What do you mean? Look at this!” Dylan shows me a photo of me and Tori. She’s sitting next to me with my hand on her thigh. Wait? She had my hand on her thigh?!? “Not only this, but you fucking skipped your 6 month anniversary dinner to hang out with whoever this is! I mean Mark what the fuck?!?” Moyal says. “Where’s y/n? I need to talk to her.” I ask. “She's In my room asleep.” Luke comes around the corner to say. “She’s not taking this well, Mark. You fucked up bad.” All of a sudden I hear a door screech. “Hey. It’s alright guys. Can I just talk to him alone.” Y/n says with tear stained cheeks. The guys leave and I take her to my room. “Y/n-“ I start but then she says,” Lisen Mark. I want to hear your side of the story, I really do, but I feel like I’m going to get a shit ton of bullshit answers. You fucking forgot our anniversary. Then I find out you were with a girl, who by the way flirts with you every single time she sees you, and then I see that you're at her DORM with your hand on her thigh, and you're basically letting her lay on you! How would you feel if that were me huh?” She says. “ Not good…” I say shamefully. “I'm sorry. I forgot. As for Tori. She’s my partner for a project. She invited me to do it at her dorm and I said yes. I didn’t think she was going to take a picture. I swear we didn’t do anything. I promise.” I say back. “ It sure as hell doesn’t look like it. Mark… this is a lot. You knew I didn’t like her, yet you still basically blew off our date for her-r. Is it because she’s prettier? I knew it! I thought you’d be loyal, but I was too naïve to see it.” She says in tears. “No it’s not, it’s just-“ she cuts me off to say. “Don’t make excuses! Mark I love you but I don’t think I can do this right now. I actually know I can’t. I'm sorry but I’m leaving. Can I have my things?” She says softly. I hand her, her phone, and car keys as she turns to leave. “Bye Mark.” She says as she walks out.

I can’t move. She just left. Walked straight out the door. I don’t know what I’m going to do? What should I do? How does someone come back from this? What do I do?

Keep sending in requests!!!!

[drnightingale]

The following is a message from @frostmoon-willow / @frostmoonwillownova regarding her mother's behaviour over the past few months, which involves forcing her to continue to do a medical assistant course that she didn't want to do in the first place after it severely worsened her mental health. Details under the cut.

"Hello everyone! I love you all so much, and thank you for all the support and kindness you have given me over the years! It genuinely means so much to me! -Frostmoon"

The following is the message she sent to her mother earlier today. I have so far heard nothing, but I will keep you all updated through reblogs and further posting.

"This has gotten to the point that I feel I need to write this.

I'm sick and tired of you choosing everything for me. You keep saying that you aren't choosing everything, and that you're doing all of this for my better. You have been choosing everything for me for a long time. Choosing my classes for me, making me go into different things that I don't want to. I have not expressed one ounce of interest in medical assisting, and you put me here. I may not plan on going into EMS in the future, but you know full well that I enjoy EMS and EMR things. You say that this is to get me a good job, but I am not going to get a medical assisting job.

You say that I hate this class because I'm behind, but the reason I'm behind is because I don't care. I'm not just procrastinating this because I'm a natural procrastinator, I am because I don't feel like or care about doing any of this. I have not had any fun in this class, except for the blood stuff because I wanted to be a blood spatter analyst (which I'm thinking I might not be, I'm not interested in taking physics). 

Everyone in my year has chosen fun senior year classes. I could have been in science fiction, where they go to movies and write stories. I don't care if I would have taken a math class, that would be way better on my mental health than this medical assisting class.

You force me to do things just so I can do things I enjoy, like playing video games and hanging out with friends. I have been struggling through this class so far, but I don't want to continue. 

I don't have a fear of needles, but I dislike them. Seeing knives sticking out of skin somehow doesn't bother me, but needles do. They make me uncomfortable. Yes, I get shots, but have you noticed how I never look at them? I don't like needles.

If you hadn't put me in this class I could have been doing things that would help me on the path to a career I do want. I could be taking online courses for forensic science. I could have a lot of things done and that would help me get the job I want, not the one you want for me. I think you are projecting your wants onto me. You are into nursing and medical assisting and are making me do that. 

I do not want to do this. I am not happy, and I am struggling mentally. I've cried multiple times during this class, and you know I've gone to talk to counsellors. How has that not rung a bell? Can't you tell I hate this? I'm behind because I have no motivation to do this. I have to pretend to be characters to get stuff done, but at this point of doing injections, I am done. 

I know you've paid money to get me into this course, but I don't care. I'm struggling. I could've had an amazing senior year like everyone else, and like what I imagined. But because you always choose things, I'm stuck in this class, crying, because you won't let me out. I'm sick and tired of it. You don't listen, and you continue to tell me that I'm only struggling because I'm behind. But I'm behind because I just don't care. 

You think that it's my friends that are telling me you're a horrible person, but I've noticed some of the things you do as well. You think you're guiding me to an amazing future as a medical assistant, but that is not what I want to do. You choose everything for me. I don't get a say in things. You didn't even ask me if I wanted to do the medical assisting program, you just signed me up. I told you I didn't want to, but you still went with it. 

I don't want you to take away my video game privileges or my snails, but I'm done. I want to be able to enjoy my life without having to think about coming here every day and doing things that I don't care about. I understand that I have multiple mental issues, and I know you're trying to help me with that, but forcing me to continue this course is not helping me. I do not want to continue with this.

I've decided to try and write this to try and have you realise how much I'm struggling, but I know you'll either ignore this and force me to continue, or even if you let me drop out, take away my phone and video game privileges. And don't you see that as a problem? I'm nearly 18, and here you are, grounding me like I'm a little kid. I know I struggle with many things, but this is one thing I'm done struggling with. 

I would like to be able to not worry about forcing myself to do these things just to play video games to make myself happy. I've tried to tell you a million times but you don't listen. You blame my friends for making me think you're horrible, and blame them for making me 'gay'. All I would like is for you to accept me for being pansexual, and maybe even try to support me. It would be wonderful. But you try to squash that out of me. 

I'm tired of being controlled by you. I want to be happy, and the medical assisting program is making me stressed and depressed. I really am tired of you making huge decisions like this for me. I don't get to choose, and you force me to stay in this class just because you think it's good for me.

I don't know how things will end out after you get this, but I just hope that somehow this might make my life easier. I hope you can find it somewhere in your heart to do what's actually best for me and my mental health. I want to be accepted for who I am, and want to begin on the course I want for my future. If you get mad at me, fine. I'm actually quite used to you being mad at me for contradicting you. But I hope this can persuade you to actually take a moment. and think and realise that what you are doing is causing me stress and anxiety.

 I'm tired of you being controlling. You are even if you think you aren't. You may not be a helicopter parent, but you are forcing me to do things, and monitoring my every move. You cut off contact with my friends just because they're against what you see as right. I'm tired of it all.. What I would like is to have a supportive mother, who will help me do what I want, not what she thinks is best for me. A mother who asks what her daughter wants and tries to help with exactly what she wants to do. 

I hope you read this and take a moment to think about all of this. I haven't written a note like this yet because I was scared you'd ground me, take away my phone, video game privileges, and snails; but this is at a point where I just can't take it anymore. I'm done.

Nova"

I am hoping to hear from her soon, and I will keep you updated on the situation, however, depending on how her mother reacts, it may be a while.

I'd like to end this off on a happy note.

I don't know much about her mother, only that she is an ex-nurse and a very strict Mormon woman who controls frostmoon, not only in the ways mentioned there, but also forcing her to wear makeup, go to church and abide by Mormon doctrine when she fully knows that she doesn't care about any of it.

Frostmoon standing up to her mother like this is a huge step up for her. I have tried to convince her to stand up for herself more over the past year we have been together, but she has always been too scared or nervous, and for good reason. But today, even if it was because she hit an all time mental low, she made a huge step to communicate what she needed from her parents, concisely and clearly, and I cannot be any more proud of her.

Anyone with experience with these kinds of parents are welcome to offer advice if they wish

[mashbrainrot]

15 Questions and 15 Mutuals

I was tagged by the ever-lovely @marley-manson (my main was tagged but no one over there is interested in me. and rightly so, tbh)

er @remyfire @faggothawkeyepierce @amrv-5 @billdecker ...

I know this isn't entering into the spirit of things but I really cba tagging FIFTEEN moots so if you're a mutual or tbh even if you're not and you wanna do this, say I tagged you. Tell em Helen sent ye.

Were you named after anyone?

Yep! My great grandma, Ellen.

When was the last time you cried?

... earlier today, over a video of a little boy knocking on a neighbour's door looking for friends. (I used to be someone who Did Not Cry, but as I get older I've been allowing myself to cry at the drop of a hat cos why not?)

Do you have kids?

I'm a godparent to many, and am lucky enough to be surrounded by lots of kids that call me aunty. But sadly, none of my own.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

Never.

What's the first thing you notice about people?

If I'm close enough, their smell. If I get a chance to talk to them, it's immediately if they're good for the craic.

Scary movies or happy endings?

Love this bizarre question. These are not mutually exclusive things, and I love the implication that 'happy endings' is a genre. Anyway. I guess my answer is yes.

What is your eye colour?

Blue.

Any special talents?

Nothing exciting. I'm hypermobile, I guess.

Where were you born?

Manchester, England

What are your hobbies?

For the longest time, my stock answer was writing but my main one is now reading I guess. Generally Consuming Media??? When I had way more free time, I used to sketch and scrapbook a lot too.

Have any pets?

Never have. And unless I ever get rich and finally get to own a horse, or an assortment of farmyard animals, I never will. (I don't like animals in the house.)

What sports do you play/have you played?

None lmaooooooooo. The only sport Ive ever kinda enjoyed watching was rugby, and the only one I ever liked playing casually was baseball/rounders and badminton. I was kinda good at netball but I got bored of following the rules. Does pool count? I'm really good at pool. And bowling, inexplicably.

How tall are you?

5'9.

Favourite subject in school?

I guess I should say Literature, considering the fact I chose it as one of my main subjects at 14 and then went on to study it for... the next 13ish years of my life... oy. I did genuinely love all my subjects though, except Maths and French. They can fuck off. I still sometimes have nightmares about sitting in Maths class.

Dream job?

Honestly I've kinda wandered into my dream job, at least for now.

[nathank77]

4/1/24

10:09 p.m Updated/ Added to/Edited-10:42

So earlier today, your fb posts were as followed, you and your husband's wedding, family reunion and the house.

Now it's you and your current husbands wedding, you and your ex husband's wedding, the family reunion and your friends. The house is gone.

I still do not know if this is all wifi and data shit. I've been playing with it and refraining from posting....

Well I'm a stalker but I looked up your ex husband's name and yours on ct judicial gov site. And wow, I didn't realize it was so detailed. I learned a lot like your address which I'll NEVER AND I MEAN NEVER EVER go to unless you talk to me and give it to me yourself and ask me to come over and send a face picture so I know someone isn't fucking with me and you'll have to date it and write Nathan on it with a newspaper or a video chat would do but I'd take screen captures.

With that being said, I never looked up your ex husband's name before tonight and I found out a lot.

Forgive me for being a stalker. What I learned is divorce can be final and assets and child support can still be in the works past the dissolution date. What I learned is your divorce took a very long time to be truly finalized.

Part of me is like that's another Elise. Yet a lot of things add up. The 10 year marriage. Children in the public information about child support, and classes. Where you live city and state specifically. And of course your name matched with that and that of your ex husband's name in the fb post.

Something that made me think it couldn't be you is he seems to live out of state. I was under the impression he lived in state and your girls saw him at least every other weekend. I didn't try to gather much info on your ex husband. I did a brief search and found virtually nothing and moved on.

All I can understand is, you may have wanted me to see how complicated a divorce is. I know you own the house cause of dates. Your house looks beautiful on zillow... I saw the little window. I think the one where you sit for your job and I teared up a little.

I had no idea how complicated divorce was. That does not mean you're getting a divorce from Brendan and I refuse to believe it unless I see something judicial. You can change your profile picture and I'll assume you wanted a change of style. Although God only knows why you'd hide those beautiful eyes.

I hope your ex husband is in ct and I hope he sees his beautiful girls every weekend or more. Either way I'm not going to pretend I know anything except what I can read.

All I know is what this means to me is. If you're here, you trust me. You're exposing information about yourself that I otherwise wouldn't have looked up.

All I know is it doesn't mean you and brendan are getting a divorce.

Last night you changed something or maybe it was my fucking data, but everything was up from what I detailed last night and then you added two breath ct things........... yea I've been looking at you cause I think you're trying to tell me something but idk.

I'll stop soon. Either way I want your friendship and I had no idea your divorce despite being final in 2017 was still proceeding into 2021 for assets and what not while you are currently married.

Anyways with all this being said, I am going to stop stalking. I feel like a true stalker knowing your address. I WILL NOT EVER GO NEAR YOUR HOUSE.

But I still feel like a stalker and i feel I learned a lot about you.

It makes me wonder, is Elise here. Is she trying to inform me that divorce is really complicated and maybe she's going to get one. Or is she just trying to share information with me to let me know one day we will be friends.

I'm going with friendship and I'll say this- I want to learn everything about you and I mean everything. I want to learn these things from you, not online searches.

Although if this is your way of making sure I know you're going to know me personally I really am thankful. As I feel crazy.

I'm going to conclude this with I feel like a stalker but I WILL NEVER GO TO YOUR HOUSE. And I may check your fb a few more times to see if this post changes anything you have available publicly...

I'm always going to feel like a stalker but I hope this is what you wanted. I hope you were trying to get me to find your divorce information. I feel kinda crazy for looking you up yet part of me thinks you wanted me to.

If not I'm sorry I'm a stalker. I'm not a crazy guy I won't look for you. Minus my online searches. And eventually if nothing changes or it stays the same or I never hear from you eventually I'll stop writing about you and move on.

Deep in my heart I think you're my soulmate and you're trying to do everything you can to communicate with me.

Or maybe you're just my soul friend and you want me to know you'll be here one day.

Even if you're like Nathan's a fucking lunatic. I love you Elise and I'll stay over here in Torrington and live my life and leave you alone until you call me... and maybe I'll do the Southbury tango but I won't go there looking for you.

[johnbazley]

Summer came on way too strong and the radio played all new songs

Ten years of 'Suburbia I've Given You All And Now I'm Nothing'

The saga of The Wonder Years, as it stands, starts in earnest not with the band’s jokey, nearly-satirical debut full-length, Get Stoked On It!, but rather with Paper Boats, or Some Poems I Wrote. Vocalist Dan Campbell’s chapbook of poetry written and released between that first album and the band’s revelatory, career-altering The Upsides, Paper Boats is out of print now and hard to find online, even if you know where to look. But one scan, widely-circulated on AbsolutePunk early in the 2010s, is signed—“I got a lot off my chest in this book. I hope it makes you feel something,” writes Campbell, his initials and three Xs below the inscription.

In the first poem, “Paper Boats (Or An Introduction to Some Poems I Wrote),” Campbell starts with a pseudo-invocation in block-text: 

My life stopped lending itself to poetry a few years ago and so I’ve manufactured my sadness in these factories that rose up all over my skin and had little neighborhoods form around them only to watch the industry fail and the buildings collapse and the neighborhood give way to violence and drug addicts. Alleyways you don’t walk down even in the broadest light of day. Yes, it must have been this way because I was absolutely sadder this past year than I ever have been before and the poetry never came.

Everything that The Wonder Years would eventually realize in their music starts here: the manufacturing of sadness into art, the alignment of the self with the suburb, the urban decay of that suburb leading to self-reflection. The casual classism of a writer whose most important identity is “suburbanite” aside, it’s here in the opening words of Paper Boats that Campbell sets out on the journey eventually evolved into The Wonder Years’ third album, Suburbia I’ve Given You All And Now I’m Nothing, which turns ten years old today.

I was sixteen years old when Suburbia released on this day in 2011, but more importantly, I was sixteen years old when Suburbia leaked a few weeks earlier, in the final throes of a brutal sophomore year of high school. I was more depressed than I ever had been, starting to realize that my bad winters and weeks spent sleepless were maybe actually a problem worth investigating. I was skipping class, failing history, asking my teachers for a bathroom break and retreating to the library or a bathroom stall to have a brief, or sometimes long, panic attack, sometimes cry for a while, then move into the next act of my school day, walk to Geometry/Trigonometry, and convince myself that none of it had ever happened. On one of those days, I made it home and downloaded the leaked Suburbia, breaking a few promises to some friends that we’d all listen to it together for the first time on the way home from the music shop in my only drivers’-license-having friend’s car, and look, I don’t want to say that things got any better once that leak made its way onto my playlist, because they didn’t. 

Suburbia didn’t save me. It made my junior year of high school a hell of a lot easier, and The Greatest Generation sure made the summer between high school and my first tragic year of college much easier to miss when it was over. But the bad times always came back. The magic of Suburbia was, for a summer, convincing me that they wouldn���t, that everything was going to be okay, that no pit was too deep to climb out of with a little dedication, that if Dan Campbell could look the listener straight in the eyes and close “Came Out Swinging” with “I spent the winter writing songs about getting better / and if I’m being honest / I’m getting there,” then I could survive any number of library panic attacks.

The brilliance of the opening one-two of Suburbia is that things don’t immediately start to improve for the speaker after “Came Out Swinging” offers some little spark of hope and honesty—instead, things get worse first, as they often do. “Woke Up Older” details the night of, and more crucially, the morning after a landmark breakup. Campbell describes the image of “a Bukowski novel on a Blacklisted LP,” a callback to The Upsides’ “Everything I Own Fits In This Backpack,” which itself contains an allusion to Charles Bukowski’s “You Get So Alone At Times That It Just Makes Sense” and Philadelphia hardcore band Blacklisted’s 2008 album “Heavier Than Heaven, Lonelier Than God.” Instead of shirking the image of “how this must look,” as he does in The Upsides, Campbell acquiesces: “This time / what it looked like / was just what it proved to be.”

It’s that reluctant acceptance where Suburbia really starts. Things need to get worse before they get better. You need to accept that things need to change before they ever will. I think that’s the kernel of Suburbia that resonated hard enough with audiences to launch The Wonder Years into relative punk superstardom. Simply put, as it is in “Local Man Ruins Everything,” “it’s not about forcing happiness / it’s about not letting sadness win.” Suburbia is not an album about rebuilding, but rather what happens before rebuilding, refocusing the myopia of a depressed, angry winter into something more outward, more grateful.

That gratitude is never more apparent than in the album’s interludes and finale, odes to hometown’s specific scars and folklore, which when combined restate the title of the album back to the listener. “Suburbia” calls back to the image in “Paper Boats” of an industrial small town in decay, opening with the all-timer of a first lyric: “The bowling alley burned down / They said it was a cigarette / almost believed it / there were burns in the carpet / everyone knows that / it was for the insurance, and / this is where you pick up the bus.” “I’ve Given You All” takes the tour to Memorial Park, where Campbell tells the story of a local homeless man’s unsolved murder before pivoting to the townies drinking by train tracks, “wearing starter jackets / for teams that haven’t / existed since the ‘90s,” ending in a hardly-sung “man, I’m sorry.” 

It’s local folklore like that defines the life in the suburbs. Here in New Jersey, I could take you on a similar tour. Here’s the best coffee in town. Here’s the other coffee shop that has WiFi and will let you sit around all day and write. Here’s the street where Bruce Springsteen grew up. Here’s where I went to high school. Here’s the good Dunkin Donuts. Here’s where I saw one of the Real Housewives of New Jersey once. Here’s the bad Dunkin Donuts. Here’s where I got into a car accident when I was eighteen. I’m still afraid to drive in the rain.

Maybe knowing where the worst coffee in town is doesn’t seem like a particularly useful bit of information, but I still know it. That’s what sets me apart from the tourists who descend upon my little beach town in the summer, tripling its population between Memorial Day and Labor Day. That’s what grounds me when everything else goes wrong, through break-ups, anxiety attacks, pandemics, bouts of unemployment. I know the coffee shop to avoid. To quote “All My Friends Are In Bar Bands,” "I don’t know where I am / but I know where I came from.”

It’s clear that Campbell couldn’t see the journey back to gratitude when he sat down with a pen and jotted down the opening words of Paper Boats. That much is apparent from the closing words of “Paper Boats (Or An Introduction to Some Poems I Wrote)”:

If I could go back in time to when I wrote sad little poems, I’d punch myself right in the fucking face because it gets worse man. It gets much, much worse and the sooner we realize that, the sooner we can just start dying, and I know. I know—blahblahblah nobody gives a fuck about your broken heart, but you know something? Most days, I’m not even sure what I’m upset about.

And to be fair, just over ten years ago, when Suburbia leaked, I was misled too. I would have told you that everything changed the first time I heard that album, that Ginsburg spoken-word opening to “Came Out Swinging,” those massive drum hits that open “Woke Up Older,” that I would never be sad again because I knew now that it was simply just about not letting sadness win. But I’ve let sadness win a lot since then. I’ve let it win again and again over the past year, the worst of my life. I’ve let sadness wash over me, and I’ve spent days, weeks, months inside. But last summer, when I was more broke than I’ve ever been, more broken-down than I ever hope to be again, I kept sane by driving around town. Over the bridges between towns, along each highway, past my old high school, always stopping at the good Dunkin Donuts, past the roller-rink that burned down years ago, the old Asbury Lanes that I swore off the last time it changed hands, and here’s where you pick up the bus.

[julemmaes]

Robyn

Rowaelin Month, Day Ten

A/N: I'd planned on posting them in order, but you get what you get. Idk when the other prompts will come tbf. I hope soon. Anyway, I managed to write over 6k words today and I'm pretty fucking proud.

This is just fluff over fluff, so yep enjoy!!

Word count: 3,047

Rowan was unbelievably late as he sped through the streets of Orynth.

So late that the school had called not only him, but also the front desk of the place where he worked when he hadn't answered the call on his personal phone. Sorscha, his assistant, had entered his office with an embarrassed smile on her lips, as if she didn't want to tell him that he had forgotten for the umpteenth time to pick up his daughter from school.

Lorcan had joined him, for some strange reason, but Rowan had stopped bothering when it came to his best friend. He'd been trying to figure out how he reasoned for years and had come to the conclusion that there was no logical sense in the actions of the man sitting next to him, who was currently singing at the top of his lungs to one of the songs on the Frozen CD - which much to the chagrin of both of them, had gotten stuck in his car radio months before, forcing them into hours of torture.

He would never deny that the songs were all quite catchy, but after the sixteenth time Rowan had had to listen to Let It Go at maximum volume, his positive opinion of the film had begun to waver.

As they pulled into the school parking lot, Rowan noticed with deep regret that the only cars still there were those of the teachers and school staff.

They both got out of the car, Rowan walking quickly towards the entrance while Lorcan dragged behind him.

He greeted the caretakers sitting at the entrance, who returned a big smile. A smile that grew even wider when his large, imposing friend entered a few moments later. He stopped to talk to the old ladies and Rowan walked down the corridor he knew led to Robyn's classroom.

He could hear muffled voices from inside the teachers' room on the left and the one he knew belonged to Miss Galathynius coming from the right. He looked out over the classroom, spotting the two people sitting at a desk.

As soon as his daughter saw him, her eyes widened and a huge smile flashed across her face.

No words. No "hello, daddy!" or "I missed you!" from the little girl.

Her teacher turned as she leapt out of her chair and ran towards him, hugging his legs and looking up at him. Rowan smiled at her in turn, running a hand over her hair that was shot in every direction.

"Hello, little bird," he murmured to her. The child's smile widened even more if that was possible.

The woman a few feet away from them pulled herself upright, crossing her arms over her chest and offering a sincere smile to the child, who hid behind his thighs.

Rowan was about to tell her that Robyn was shy with everyone like this, ready to defend his daughter's behaviour as he was used to doing in front of every adult, but he was beaten to the punch.

"It's good to see you, Mr Whitethorn," she said, extending a hand. Rowan shook it without hesitation. "Actually, I just wanted to write you a letter regarding Robyn," she continued, never taking her eyes off the little girl. "Nothing serious," she hastened to reassure him when Rowan grimaced, "quite the contrary. Robyn is remarkably good. One of the best in the class, though I shouldn't offer that information so bluntly."

Miss Galathynius winked at him, but he couldn't process what he'd just been told.

"Sorry, could you-"

The little hands clamped around his trousers tightened a fraction more and Rowan looked down, trying to figure out what was bothering his daughter, but then something happened that he hadn't even dared to dream about in recent times.

"You're here!"

The little girl broke off and ran away from him in less than the blink of an eye.

Rowan turned just in time to see Lorcan grab Robyn in mid-air, spinning her around as he brought her to his chest and showered her with kisses. The loud, incessant laughter that erupted from her seemed too much coming from that fragile little body, but he never tired of hearing it.

"Why hello baby!" said Lorcan laughing in turn, starting to tickle her until she begun to rebel and he was forced to let her slide to the floor. Robyn was still laughing at the top of her lungs and nearly fell to the ground as she squealed left and right, letting herself be pushed around by the closest thing to an uncle she had ever had.

When Rowan turned back to the woman, she was wide-eyed and her lips slightly parted as she watched the massive man dressed completely in black and the menacing face turn into a completely different person the second he had seen Robyn.

He chuckled, "I know, it's not every day you get to see a little girl be so comfortable with a brute like that."

Lorcan, who was listening to everything, looked him straight in the eye and without stopping smiling and playing with the little girl, mouthed to him to fuck off.

"Well, yeah. You caught me a little off guard." she confessed, still shocked to hear how Robyn was having a full conversation with Lorcan. They couldn't hear anything of what she was actually saying, but even just the fact she was talking to someone seemed to have Aelin unsettled.

She returned her attention to Rowan and let out a breath that sounded more like a giggle, "I've never heard her laugh before."

He nodded, blushing a little at the teacher's surprised but relieved tone.

"I'm sure the dean warned you about the problem she has," he said in a low voice. He grimaced at her poor choice of words, "I mean, not problem, but the difficulty she finds in interacting with people she doesn't know."

Liar, he told himself. Robyn hadn't spoken to anyone but him and Lorcan since the day Lyria had died. It wasn't a difficulty, but a response to the trauma that prevented her from speaking to anyone who wasn't part of her immediate family.

"I know, I know. We've been looking for solutions together." she informed him. "I give her a white board every morning. Come on, I'll show you." she turned to the desk they were sitting at earlier and raised the magnetic board, on which a few words were scribbled on. "I'll write here what she might need. Yes. No. I need to go to the bathroom. I'm thirsty. I'm hungry." she read, listing the various options. Rowan gaped. "We've only just started going over the alphabet for a second time, so she can't really read or write yet, as I imagine you know, but the little drawings next to each sentence help her."

She continued talking, but he couldn't quite follow.

The woman in front of him - aside from being breathtakingly beautiful - had done as much as she could to help her child with communication.

"Mr. Whitethorn-"

"Rowan. Please, call me Rowan." he said, clearing his throat once he realized how hoarse it sounded to his ears. Lorcan walked up to them at that point, still holding Robyn in his arms and positioned himself next to him, letting their shoulders touch in a comforting way.

"Call me Aelin, then," she smiled at them both. Then she made a small grimace, turning to Rowan, "I wanted to ask if it bothered you, that I sought a solution like that. Maybe I put her in distress, embarrassed her. I'm sorry if I gave you the impression that I wanted to solve this on my own. I really wanted to discuss it with you, with your husband too, to avoid misunderstandings. Maybe we could arrange a meeting."

He was about to tell her that she had given him the exact opposite of annoyance, that he had been more than pleased that she had helped Robyn this way, when her words finally registered.

Lorcan, beside him, had opened his mouth wide and his lips were slowly bending into a mischievous smile.

Rowan furrowed his brow, "I'm sorry, what?"

Aelin's smile seemed to falter. "A meeting? With you? To talk about how to handle the situation," then she shifted her gaze to Lorcan, "You're more than welcome to join as well. I didn't know Robyn had two dads, I apologise for assuming Robyn had a mum and dad. That was very rude of me-"

"I love this," Lorcan whispered, laughing in shock. He turned to Rowan with eyes that sparkled with amusement, "I would definitely be the top."

Rowan looked at him with an expression of complete shock on his face, "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Robyn gasped, opening her eyes wide and bringing a hand to her mouth, pointing then to Rowan's.

"Yeah, sorry, love. I shouldn't have said the bad word." he apologised, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. He turned back to Miss Galathynius, "I'm sorry to have to disappoint you, but we're not married."

"No need to lie, sweetie. I'm sure Aelin," he gave her a knowing look, "doesn't mind at all about our relationship status."

Aelin nodded, "Well, yes. That doesn't change anything. Mr..." she turned to Lorcan, searching for a name.

"Salvaterre."

"Mr. Salvaterre can still attend. The fact that you are not yet married is no reason why you cannot both be present at the meeting. You don't have to worry, we are a very tolerant school and if anyone bothers you, you can come directly to me."

A sound of sheer glee escaped Lorcan.

Aelin continued, "I mean it. I was pleased to see both of you today. I was also pleased to see Robyn smiling so much." she concluded, looking the little one in the face.

Rowan took a deep breath, bracing himself, "No, I meant, we're not a couple. We're not gay. He's her uncle."

The woman's blonde eyebrows shot up and a second later she turned almost as red as the dress Robyn was wearing as Lorcan shook his head muttering something very much like 'you're no fun', which made Robyn giggle.

"Why did you even get off the car?" he asked him exasperated.

Lorcan shrugged, "Because I missed my little bean, you monster." he replied, clutching Robyn to his chest. The little girl clutched Lorcan's shirt in her chubby little hands and Rowan huffed, shaking his head.

Aelin brought her hands to her face, leaning against the desk behind her. She shook her head, her face still hidden, "Oh, god. I'm so sorry."

Lorcan let out a dry laugh, "Don't worry about it. It was fun while it lasted." then he turned to Rowan again, who was still trying to recover from the idea of being involved in a relationship with his friend, "You're really no fun."

"Yeah, no fun dad." repeated Robyn.

Silence fell over the class. Rowan looked at her with wide eyes and blinked once, twice. Robyn was staring at him with a sweet scowl that mimicked so much that of the man who was still holding her, but Rowan couldn't get over the fact that his daughter had spoken while Aelin was still beside them.

He was about to talk, noticing how Robyn had started squirming in Lorcan's arms, when there was a knock at the door.

They both turned, Aelin peering over Rowan's shoulder, and saw the figure of a petite girl with black hair and eyes standing in the doorway, watching them with her head slightly bent to the side. She had a tag on her t-shirt that was too colourful to belong to someone who didn't work in a school with children, so he guessed she was a teacher herself. Besides, Rowan felt like he'd seen her elsewhere. Probably every day when he picked Robyn up from school, he said to himself.

"I know you're not supposed to eavesdrop but I stopped by earlier and heard you were a couple of dads," she said by way of introduction. "I just wanted to reassure you that the school is an extremely safe place. I'm the one who did most of the interviews with the parents," that's where they had met then, "and one of the questions that is asked is just about the tolerance of the people who will be attending the school."

Aelin watched her, remaining silent the whole time and putting on an amused smile, nodded, "That's what I was telling them. How tolerant the school is. They make such a cute couple, don't you think, Elide?"

Rowan turned to her, arching an eyebrow, silently asking her what she was doing. The woman, as if she could truly understand what he was trying to convey to her, nodded her head towards Lorcan, who Rowan only then noticed was standing weirdly, his eyes fixed on the woman in the doorway.

He grinned, deciding to take his revenge right away. "Oh, yes. Thank you so much for the reassurance," Rowan began to play along as well. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lorcan turn towards him, dropping Robyn to the floor, who made a disapproving noise at being dumped so suddenly. "We are happy to know that this school is a safe place for our daughter. And for us."

Elide offered him a blinding smile, "Good. I'm happy to hear that you are pleased so far. And I am happy that Aelin is the one who is taking your daughter's class. She's the best one here."

Rowan didn't know her yet, but he knew the thing Elide had just said could only be true.

"Well," she said again, giving them an apologetic smile, "I really must go now, but if you need anything, you can find all my contact details on the website. Have a nice day!"

Aelin and Rowan said their goodbyes, thanking her. Lorcan took a while to recover, but when he realised he was staring into empty space he ran towards the door, almost stepping on little Robyn, who was moved by Aelin.

"We are very much not gay, miss!" he shouted into the hallway. Aelin, now beside him and with a hand on Robyn's shoulder, cackled. With Lorcan's infinite luck, someone walked by just then and gave him a stern look. "Oh, shut up ma'am. I'm an ally. The best ally."

Rowan shook his head as Lorcan launched himself in pursuit of the poor teacher and burst out laughing when he heard him shout, "I'm not homophobic! I'm willing to suck someone's cock if I have to prove it to you!"

Aelin opened her mouth wide before bursting out laughing in turn.

Robyn, seeing both adults so happy, giggled too and Rowan bent down to pick her up. The little girl laid her full head of white-light hair on his shoulder and closed her eyes.

She was tired and Rowan really needed to get her home to sleep.

He glanced at Aelin and reduced his lips to a thin line, "I'm sorry about the commotion, I'll try not to bring him into the building again. Even if it means tying him to the seat."

The soft laugh she gave made something tighten in his chest. He frowned.

Aelin didn't seem to notice the effect she had on him, "Don't worry, Elide is crazy about fools like him. If he says the right things, we might start seeing each other outside of school too."

Rowan nodded, now too caught up in the thought of having to take Robyn home to focus on anything else.

They agreed on when to hold the parent-teacher meeting and then he grabbed Robyn's backpack, walking towards the exit.

He was thoughtless as he reached into his pocket for his keys and balanced everything else - including the girl - on his other arm, but when Robyn's hand brushed his cheek, he looked down and his eyes met their twins. Green against green.

"What is it?"

The little girl's voice never stopped making him smile. Each time was like the first time she had said dada.

"I really like her."

Rowan frowned, "Who?"

"Miss Aelin." she whispered, almost as if she was afraid they might hear her.

He smiled at her, "Yeah? You like her?"

"She's nice to me."

Rowan had to put her down as he opened the door and let her get into the back seats by herself.

"I'm glad she's treating you well, love," he let her know, buckling her in.

He hoped she'd tell him more about her new teacher, but like any kid her age, the topic of conversation couldn't last for more than four lines apiece, "Where's Uncle Lorcan?"

Rowan snorted, "No idea, little bird."

Robyn nodded, "Elide is pretty too."

And as if those words had summoned him, Lorcan appeared beside the car, making them both scream. He entered the car in a heartbeat and turned to his daughter, who was still settling into the seat. "Do you know Miss Lochan?"

But before she could answer him, Rowan had entered the car in turn and smacked the back of his head, which made the Robyn giggle, "You're not using my daughter as your wingman. Now stop it and buckle up."

Lorcan gave him a gentle push, before doing as he was told and for once he was happy he'd convinced him to do something.

Or at least, Rowan thought he had convinced him.

"What if I left you a note to deliver to Miss Lochan, Rob? Would you be up for it?"

Rowan knew, even without looking at her, that she was nodding emphatically.

Keeping his eyes on the road, he murmured, "Could you stop calling my daughter Rob, please? You'll give her an existential crisis."

Lorcan clicked his tongue against his palate, "Rowan, I'm not giving her a damn thing. We live in this new world, okay? Your daughter could be called Simon and still be a beautiful princess. Grow up and educate yourself before you talk shit."

"Aaaah!" shouted Robyn, "Bad word!"

Rowan sighed and shook his head, but still he was smiling.

This was his life. Had been for the past two years.

And he wouldn't change it for the world.

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