#and upload the videos i took soon

[seventh-district]

so was anyone gonna tell me that Neil Newbon is the VA for Astarion or was i gonna have to find that out myself when he suddenly started uploading his playthrough of the game on YT

[srjlvr]

꒦꒷ enhypen ! oopsies…! fans actually caught your relationship….

in which you and your partner are really awful at keeping your relationship as a secret. || Idol-ot7!Enhypen X Idol-fem!reader … full fluff!! … no warnings!! … not proofread<3 || note. this one is very similar to the shipping scenarios, but not quite the same.

ε ї з — heeseung ; having temporary matching tattoos.

you and heeseung felt a bit childish in your last hangout at your dorm. you told him you ordered those little temporary tattoos that kids do these days and joked about doing it. one thing led to another and both of you ended up with a weird heart shape right on the back of your hand.

“i think it looks cute” you looked at it and smiled.

heeseung chuckled and kissed your cheek, “but you’re cuter”

“if i could i would get a permanent tattoo with you”

“our fans will probably notice it if we do”

you forgot the next day that both of you have a performance to do.

no one noticed it, it was as if it never happened, your staff members and manager didn’t even notice, your own group members were too oblivious to it as well.

it was only after your performance that a hashtag with both of your names became popular on every platform that ever existed. fans going crazy and posting pictures of your performance with the tattoo circled, then compared to heeseung’s picture with the tattoo as well.

not only that, you actually uploaded a photo where it was clearly seen and not even a bit hidden. your company thought they were fast enough to delete it, but fans are much quicker these days.

it was very much needless to say that you found yourself in your CEO’s office the next day.

ε ї з — jay ; performing and showing everyone your matching bracelets.

jay had recently bought the both of you matching bracelets. he knows you love bracelets and he’d do anything to make you happy.

your bracelet had a few charms he picked that perfectly completed his own charms, if you ask any other person, they’d tell you it’s the perfect matching symbol.

being too excited about the bracelet idea, you forgot to take it off before your comeback performance.

at first fans thought it was just a beautiful bracelet your stylists gave you.

that was until you decided to show it again on live, and jay decided going on live and showing his matching one five minutes after your live ended.

“is that a new bracelet? yes actually, isn’t it so pretty?” you answered your fans’ questions and showed it off.

“show us your bracelet?” jay read one comment and immediately showed it on screen, “i love this bracelet a lot, i don’t think i’ll ever take it down” he chuckled.

not even a minute passed and the whole comment section began asking about his bracelet again and why it looks so similar to yours. jay’s eyes widened and quickly came up with an excuse to end the live.

“please tell me you took it off before going on live” he told you over the phone.

“i did not, why?” you asked innocently.

“i guess i’ll see you tomorrow at the CEO’s office, i love you” he chuckled.

“oh,” you started laughing, “it’s about time we reveal it actually”

ε ї з — jake ; mindlessly hanging out in public.

life had been so stressful lately for both you and jake. him being on tour and you being too busy with your upcoming comeback just added up to the stress you’ve been already having.

you barely found time to hang out or even have video calls. the time difference was sometimes too much for you and you found yourself going days over days without texting properly.

“i miss you so much” he said in one of your very rare video calls.

“i missed you so much more” you replied quietly.

you’ve been on a call for more than four hours, either of you wanted to hang up, you don’t know when will be the next time you’ll be able to talk like that.

as soon as he came back to korea, he texted you, asking to meet up and hang out at the very late night hours.

you being so drunk in love, missed your partner and had to hold him again in your arms, you agreed instantly and made your way to the dorm as fast as the light.

after reuniting he suggested both of you will get out and get some fresh air, the inside was suffocating both of you.

you decided to have a walk in the nearest park and even go to that one arcade he told you he’d take you to when he has the chance. you ended the night with some ramen you bought from the closest seven eleven store.

this idea of publicly hanging out without your managers or even group members knowing was a mindless idea, but you missed each other too much to care.

fans went crazy the day after when dispatch revealed pictures of the both of you hanging out, and just then you realized you fucked up.

ε ї з — sunghoon ; posting the same location photos.

you and sunghoon recently went on a vacation in a very quiet yet beautiful place. no one could recognize you no matter where you went. it was the perfect place for the both of you.

sunghoon brought his cameras, and you as well brought yours. of course, the perfect couple would also have some shared interests.

“the view is so beautiful” you took in the beautiful view you were looking at, and raised your camera to take a picture of the beautiful place.

“you’re way prettier than the view” sunghoon back-hugged you with one hand and raised a camera with the other to take a picture of the view as well.

you chuckled at his remark and shook your head, “you’re the prettiest view i’ve ever seen”

a few days later and your vacation sadly ended. on your way you asked sunghoon for suggestions, he told you which ones he thinks were the prettiest and you happily agreed.

the next day you uploaded the pictures you were discussing on with sunghoon, and got lots of compliments for your little hobby.

it didn’t take that long for sunghoon to also upload a post. you being a supportive girlfriend opened your fake account to give him a like and look at the post your pretty boyfriend uploaded.

your smile quickly faded when you noticed his pictures were oddly similar to yours. you entered the comment section and fans were already discussing on whether this is all a coincidence or not.

you decided to leave the post on, and hope for the best, knowing that you and sunghoon are probably going to get an angry lecture.

ε ї з — sunoo ; uploading the wrong tiktok.

you and sunoo filmed the new comeback’s challenge after constant beggings that it would be only the two of you.

the staff members were so supportive of your relationship and hyped you up a lot.

“let’s do one for fun and a serious one” he told you and you nodded.

“wait what do you mean one for fun?” you asked.

“one that i’d keep for me only to watch” he cutely smiled and hugged you.

you wondered what he was up to but cooperated and did your best for this tiktok, on the few freestyle seconds, he kissed your cheek and winked at the camera while you were left blushing.

“that was the one for fun?” you asked and he nodded, “we can’t show that to fans, they’ll know we’re a couple the second they see it”

you filmed another one with a cute pose at the end and agreed it’d be the best one to upload. you thanked everyone as you were called back to your dressing room, you kissed goodbye your boyfriend and signaled him to text you.

a few hours passed and you noticed enhypen uploaded a new tiktok. you tapped the screen to give it a like even before watching it until the end.

you focused on your dance moves and the way your chemistry with your boyfriend was displayed over the screen, but your mouth dropped to the floor when you noticed the last seconds of the tiktok.

it was the wrong one. and it was too late to delete because fans were already reposting it and going crazy over it.

ε ї з — jungwon ; forgetting to hide your framed photobooth pictures.

due to their upcoming reality show participation, enhypen members were required to clean their rooms from any suspicious things that fans might see.

the reality show showed enhypen members’ own room and dorm in general. so the rooms had to be very cleaned and organized.

jungwon took in the request very seriously and cleaned every part and any corner of his room, or so he thought.

your framed pictures stood there right next to his bed stand, he can’t go sleep without it being right next to his head and he forgot to hide it somewhere else.

he only figured about it when they showed him his own room in the show, he tried to hide it and tried to stay unbothered as much as he can so fans won’t notice anything suspicious.

too bad fans have 6/6 vision and they’re actually specialists at finding stuff like these.

as soon as the show was aired, fans tried to find out who’s the mysterious girl in the framed picture who’s seen kissing his cheek and smiling widely with him.

luckily, the picture was very much blurred so it was hard for fans to see, it was an easy pass for the company to say that these pictures just so happened to be pictures with his sister.

the company’s plans were ruined when you decided to post a vlog in your room and there sat the same framed picture behind you. it was very far and really hard to notice, but as we all know your fans are crazy.

“you forgot to hide it too?” you giggled over the phone as he laughed as well.

“i love this picture too much i guess”

“i don’t regret not hiding it”

“me neither”

ε ї з — riki ; posting a selca with his sunglasses.

everyone knows about riki’s obsession with sunglasses. he’s like the sunglasses king.

you yourself even bought him a few sunglasses that he tends to wear very often. fans don’t notice it since they always assume it’s always him who buys them.

however, there’s one particular sunglasses that riki has been known for. it’s one of the rarest sunglasses and riki decided to draw some random things on the sides of it and showed it to his fans.

he was so proud of himself, showing his pure talent on his favorite sunglasses, it’s actually one of the sunglasses you bought him as well, but no one has to know that.

you asked for his sunglasses one day, you felt cute and your outfit matched perfectly with his sunglasses.

you also asked him to take a few photos of you with his sunglasses. he smiled through the whole process.

“wait let’s do it like that” you said as you bent down and held the sunglasses that were sitting right on the end of your nose.

“you look so cute” he complimented, “focus on taking the pictures instead of simping!” you ordered and he laughed.

“you can keep them to yourself! it looks better on you”

“i’d never do that to my very lovely boyfriend! ….but if you insist then i will”

one of the first mistakes you made was not noticing a glass window was right behind you, and so the reflection of riki was much seen behind you.

you uploaded the pictures, feeling so cute and excited about the outfit with your boyfriend’s sunglasses.

your second mistake was forgetting that those sunglasses were only unique to riki since he designed and drew on it on his own.

it didn’t take that long for fans to notice his sunglasses and his reflection behind you.

••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.

PERM TAG-LIST ; @sungwhoonz @ohdudehesflirting @unlikelysublimekryptonite @deobiis @manooffline @miumiuoi @in-somnias-world @lovelovelovebts @filmofhybe @wonbinsnovia @daegutowns @aurumiee @soobywon @dhriti-stories @ariadores @firstclassjaylee @watamotee33 @moons-v @s00buwu @hoonheepretty @jjeoni-7 @dimplewonie (bold means cannot be tagged)

[loverboybitch]

[tasteracha]

kinktober - day thirteen

kink: camcorder with minho ft. chan

warnings: smut - MINORS DNI. threesome (kind of), chan is a perv, afab!reader, teensy bit of manipulation

chan didn’t think this would happen when he asked minho to borrow his camcorder a couple days ago - all he wanted was to record some practice videos to upload to youtube. he didn’t think before he took it, didn’t think before he looked through minho’s old footage of his dancing that he keeps for memories, didn’t think before watching what he watched. 

it was a video of you. and minho. 

in his defense, the storage on the memory card was almost full and chan was just looking for something that could be deleted to free up space - and wouldn’t minho check the storage to see if there was anything he didn’t want chan seeing first? if anything, this is minho’s fault. 

sure, it’s minho’s fault that chan is one second away from jerking off to the sight of you getting fucked into oblivion by his best friend, the grainy pixels leaving little to nothing to his imagination. your moans sound tinny from the low quality speakers, minho’s grunts accenting the sounds coming from your mouth as he fucks you up against the studio mirrors. your breath is fogging up from where your face is pressed against the glass, sweaty handprints from the both of you staining the surface. minho better have cleaned those mirrors after that, chan’s delirious mind supplies as he continues watching the footage he should have turned off minutes ago. 

the video is from the same angle as their dance practices, the same walls on display and oh fuck chan doesn’t think he’s been this hard in his entire life. that’s the room that he dances in, he’s leaned up against that exact mirror, panting and overexerted, he’s been yelled at by minho for messing up the choreography in that exact place. 

he tries. he tries so hard to forget what he saw, to get the image of you shaking apart when you came out of his head. to stop thinking about the way your skin went white from where minho was gripping it. to restrain from gripping his cock in his hand under his blanket with his eyes screwed shut and the symphony of your combined noises playing in his head like a song he couldn’t get off of repeat. 

but how could he when he had to go back into that rehearsal room just a few days later to practice? what excuse could he possibly give his members about why he wanted to switch rooms from this one? the room that’s full of their most precious memories, full of laughter and tears and piles of sweaty cuddles on the floor? no, he couldn’t. what he could do was avoid that spot like it was poisonous, standing on the farthest edge of the room after practice was over, chugging water and thinking about how you both have probably fucked on the floor there, or those couches, or by the closet door. 

he doesn’t notice you at first, sliding into the room to hand minho a cold water bottle and press a kiss to his cheek. the other members were slowly trickling out, passing tired greetings to you as they shuffled past, eager to go home and shower. when only minho and him were left, you went to approach him only to find his eyes already on you, glazed over at you but not really seeing. 

he looks at you and all he can see is the way you were pressed up against the glass, your tits squished but somehow still bouncing, the screwed up features of your face when you were overwhelmed in pleasure. all he can hear are those metallic sounding moans, all he can feel is the urge to fall at your feet-

“bang chan,” minho snaps, jerking chan out of his fantasy. “where is my camera? you’ve had it for a while, i wanted to record the new choreography.”

“oh!” chan is starting to panic, he didn’t think that minho would ask after the camcorder so soon. he didn’t have time to prepare, didn’t have the energy to create an excuse. “there was too much storage on it, so i didn’t get to record what i wanted and i forgot to ask you about it.”

he’s biting his tongue now, cursing himself for saying too much. couldn’t he just have said he would give it back tomorrow?

“i didn’t think about the storage,” minho starts, not sounding like he had anything to hide. did he truly not know about what he had left on that camera for chan to find? “did you see anything interesting?”

he knows. he knows. chan is beginning to sweat, he can feel it in his hair and under his arms and he wants to bury a hole by his feet so he can jump into it and never climb out. 

“haha, no,” he says, packing up the rest of his bag so that he didn’t have to look at minho. or you, who’s been silent since you walked in, watching him carefully. for all he wasn’t scared of minho and his adorably empty threats, he was terrified of you. “i didn’t even look. just saw that the storage was full, you know?”

he sounds awkward. he is awkward, right now. 

“chan,” you trail a finger down his arm, speaking for the first time since you arrived and he’s gone, your touch leaving raised hairs in your wake. you should be angry, you should be livid, why are you touching him like that- “come over tonight to mine would you? we wanted to have you over for a while, minho wanted to cook for you. and you can give him the camera back then.”

“oh,” chan is sure that his face is flushed completely red by now, but he nods anyways. “sure! i’m free tonight. i’ll be there at seven? or whenever is good for you, i’m free. wait, i said that already-”

“perfect,” minho purrs, taking one of your hands in his and laying the other on chan’s shoulder. “seven is perfect. see you then, chan.”

--

he gets to your place early and sits in his car for 30 minutes, chewing at his fingernails and tapping his leg at an alarming pace. the more he thinks about it the more he overthinks - did they just want to yell at you in private instead of at the company building? did they really not know? what if he confessed and they didn’t know? what if they never speak to you again?

he has to take several deep breaths before leaving his car, and again before he knocks on your door. he’s ushered in by you, bright smiles on yours and minho’s faces as you take the camera out of his hands, and by the time he has a glass of wine in his hand and he’s sitting on the couch while minho puts the finishing touches on dinner he’s almost fully relaxed. he’s been here so many times, your apartment being a refuge to all the boys when they wanted to get away from the dorms for a bit. this is normal. 

“let me put something on for us to watch,” you say at the same time minho asks chan if he wanted more wine, and you sneak the camcorder towards the tv while chan was distracted, sniping at minho that no he doesn’t want a second glass he’s not even halfway through the first one. you plug it in, smiling when it connected to the right input immediately. you scroll through the files, fingers calm on the remote even though you were shaking in anticipation inside. when you get to the right file you click on it, turning up the volume. 

the image of you and minho takes over the tv, sounds coming out of the tv in a much better quality than what chan had been used to. his head whips towards the tv, wine forgotten and eyes wide as he takes in the video that you put on.

“what?” he asks, almost in a gasp as his eyes flicker back and forth between the tv, you, and minho, who had finally exited the kitchen and joined you in the living room.

“we thought since you loved it so much, we would watch it together,” minho explains, much more casually than one should be when playing a video of them fucking their girlfriend in front of their best friend. “why, is something wrong?” 

“i-”, chan cuts himself off, panic choking his voice. “i’m so sorry-”

“hey,” you move towards him, sitting against his side and taking one of his hands in both of yours. “that isn’t what this is about. we don’t mind, okay?” 

“we couldn’t let him sputter on for a bit more?” minho pouts, crossing his arms at you. “it was funny.”

“min, be nice,” you scold, smiling at chan. 

“channie, i would have beat you up when i found out if i wanted to,” minho relents, siting on chan’s other side, sandwiching him between you both. “she likes that you watched it. i like it. okay? just relax and be good for us.”

minho’s words wash over chan, leaving him in a sort of daze. be good for us, minho had said. he could do that, chan was so good at being good. he melts against the couch, the heat from both of your bodies enveloping him as he takes in the video he’s seen over and over already. 

“you planned this?” he asks, breathless and mesmerized. 

“of course i did,” minho scoffs, squeezing one of chan’s thighs in his warm hand. “you think i would just let you watch that without planning it? i’m not that stupid.”

you’re not, but maybe i am, chan thinks, and he only realizes that he said it out loud when you start giggling and lean your head into his shoulder to hide your laughter. 

he wants to retort, to somehow defend himself, but then video-minho changes his angle and starts fucking video-you even harder than before and whatever words were in his throat stayed behind the lump there.

“do you want to do that to her?” minho asks, hand trailing up chan’s thigh, leaving behind phantom pinpricks of sensation. he lets his blunt nails rake over chan’s leg, the delicate material of his workout pants providing no protection. 

“can i?” chan breathes out, looking at you like he’s never seen anything more beautiful. 

“please,” you wiggle your legs open a bit, a clear invitation. his hand comes to rest on your thigh and it’s so big, so much bigger than minho’s. he slides it up, to the hem of your oversized shorts, dipping his fingers closer to your panties and -

he stops. 

“but, i also want…” he ducks his head down, trying to hide his flush before glancing at minho through his lashes. minho’s brow furrows, confusion clear on his face before he puts it together. 

“oh, my channie,” he coos, running a hand through chan’s hair. “we can do that too, i promise. but my girl has been waiting so long for you, you don’t want to make her wait even longer, do you?”

chan shakes his head, entire body swaying with the force of it, reenergized by minho’s promise of more. he turns towards you and you feel your breath leave your body as you turn weighless for a moment, landing back on earth to find yourself straddling chan’s lap. 

“you’re strong,” you praise, feeling up his biceps as you get comfy in his lap, ignoring minho’s indignant yelp next to you. chan beams up at you, both of his hands cupping your ass and using it as leverage to pull you closer into him. his dick is hard in his pants, poking against your crotch, and you both let out lewd moans when you grind into him a bit. he glances at minho, a little insecure and still kind of uncomfortable, but minho just pulls him in and kisses him deeply. it’s a sight to see, like a movie playing out right in front of your eyes, the love of your life and his best friend making out right in front of you. chan tenses a bit but melts into the couch even faster, letting minho lead him into blissful submission as he cups his face and moves it right how he wants it. 

when they part, chan’s lips are cherry red and so wet, glistening in the light from the lamps decorating the room. you can’t help but kiss him too, licking minho’s essence off of him and reveling in the way he bucks up into you like he can’t help it. 

chan slides his lips to the right, peppering kisses to the corner of your lips, across your jaw and down your neck. he sucks at the spot right under your ear that makes you see stars, heat bursting in your lower belly. he was utterly intoxicated by your scent, your clean, floral body wash taking over his senses until he was all but panting into your neck. 

it almost hurts to pull back from him, it’s like a stab right to your heart when he makes a wounded noise at the loss of contact, but you need more from him. any thoughts that you might have had of seducing him, of wining and dining him and showing him how much you really wanted him, died out once you felt his hands on you. you’ve been crushing on this man for almost as long as you’ve been crushing on minho, and you weren’t going to give this opportunity any time to ruin itself; you knew chan, knew how his self-consciousness and second-guessing worked, and if you wanted him you needed to take him now before he changed his mind. 

you reach for the drawstring on his pants, pulling it open and sticking your hand in, rubbing him through his boxers. next time you’d have more decorum, you’d suck him off until he was right on the edge and make him sob when you refuse to let him come, you’d let him fuck you into the mattress and let him pin you down, but not right now. 

“on the couch?” chan asks, eyes wide as they flicker back and forth between you and minho. 

“you know we’ve done it in worse places,” minho says, humor lining his words as the lust takes over his eyes at the thought of what was about to happen. a burst of affection takes over you as you look at him, your perfect soulmate who understood you and your desires and shared them with you like you shared everything else. 

“never knew you were such an exhibitionist,” chan snipes back at him, gasping when you tug him out of his pants and boxers, the stretch of his waistband making it easy. you only have to stroke him a few times until he’s fully hard, his cock red and leaking where it curves into his lower belly. 

“minho, help me,” you ask, blinking at minho through your eyelashes, and he knows what you want immediately; he hooks his fingers through your shorts and panties at once, pulling them down to your knees, just far down enough for you to be able to rub your bare pussy against chan’s cock.

“god, you’re so wet,” he curses, throwing his head back and sighing in time with the movement of your hips.

“for you, channie,” your voice cracks when his cock catches on your clit, and both of them are smart enough not to say anything about it. minho moves though, ever impatient, and lines chan’s cock up against your hole with practiced ease. 

“thought about this a lot, did you?” you tease, knowing very well that both of you thought about this a little too much, sharing fantasies in hushes whispers when you were supposed to be asleep. . 

minho clicks his tongue and presses himself up behind you, still fully clothed even though his dick was rock hard in his jeans. he places his hands on your hips and pushes you into chan, driving his cock deep into you. you collapse against chan’s chest, a surprised yelp leaving you at the unexpected fullness. chan echoes you, burying his face into your neck with a shudder. 

“tease me again and see what i’ll do,” he says darkly, hands still in a death grip on your waist. you take his threat for what it is, knowing that he would follow through with his words, and you start grinding into chan in slow circles. his hands circle your waist, fingers tangled with minho as they let you set the pace. 

“please,” chan whimpers, his breath tickling your neck. you want to tease him so badly, but how could you when he asked so politely? you shift your knees further onto the couch, gaining leverage so you could lift your hips higher up. you drop back down onto him and you both moan in unison. 

you lift back up and drop down, again and again and again, finding a rhythm that fits both of you perfectly. it’s like a dance, moves that feel practiced and eased, spurred on by minho’s soft whispered praises towards the both of you. the video playing on the tv had reached its end, and every sound coming from you was heightened. 

“what a pretty show, all for me,” minho moves away and finally takes his cock out of his jeans, fisting it and immediately starting to stroke himself off at a fast pace. you can’t see him, you miss the warmth of him against your back, but chan can’t take his eyes off of him, transfixed by the sight of his best friend jerking himself off to him and you as you’re bouncing on top of him. 

you’re shaking apart on top of chan before you realize it, orgasm taking over you as you continue to ride him. you clench around him hard, and he’s spilling into you a second later, jerky little thrusts shaking your body on top of his. minho curses as he comes a moment later, too keyed up to extend his pleasure for long. this wasn’t about him anyways; at least, not this time. 

you lift off of chan with a hiss, sending him a look of sympathy when he shivers in overstimulation. you don’t make it far, pulling him down to lay against you, your back pressed up against his front. both of your pants are still halfway off, but you can’t be bothered to care right now - you’re utterly exhausted, even from just one orgasm. 

the both of you barely register minho draping a blanket over you before settling on the floor in front of you, leaning his head on the couch right by where chan’s hands were around your stomach. it’s so domestic, the three of you drifting towards one another so naturally that it just feels right. later, you’d get up and eat the now-cold dinner minho had painstakingly prepared, but for now you were content to lay in comfortable quiet.

“wait,” chan breaks the silence, and you have to resist the urge to groan at him. “how did you know that i watched it? what if the storage really was just full?”

“please, you’re too obvious,” minho teases, voice soft and drowsy, and you can hear the smile in it. “plus, you were watching it in the dorms, idiot. you’re lucky it wasn’t jeongin that caught you.”

--

kinktober masterlist

[amsznn]

Please I’m begging u could you write Chris x reader when reader gets wisdom teeth out. Pet names only baby

WISDOM TEETH - c.sturniolo

-

“todays video is gonna be a bit different guys.” chris spoke into the camera before turning it to you, revealing you leaning on the kitchen counter. “y/n’s gonna get her wisdom teeth out!” your head quickly shifted towards the mention of ‘wisdom teeth’, unfortunately being reminded of what will be your reality in a matter of moments.

“chris stop, she’s literally fearing for her life right now.” nick said while laughing. “don’t worry y/n, its not that bad.” he said while patting your shoulder.

“i dont think i wanna go anymore.” you said quickly as you remembered how much pain nick was in while he was recovering.

“it’s gonna be alright baby, we’ll be right there.” chris reassures as he wrapped his shoulder around you, still holding the camera.

it took some convincing, and maybe some bribery from your boyfriend to get you food after the procedure, to finally convince you to get in the car and go through with getting your teeth pulled out. you had been in pain for a long time, complaining about the pain the teeth were causing you.

chris knew this and knew the best thing for you was to get them out. now you all were packed in the car with matt and chris in the front, while you and nick were in the back.

occasionally chris would reach behind his chair and allow you to hold his hand for some time. he knew as you were trying to appear calm and collected, your mind was actually racing.

but that feeling would only intensify as matt pulled into the parking lot of the dentist office. you did all the regulations upon entering the building, signing in, and waiting.

before you knew it you were in the chair, about to get those teeth pulled out.

“promise, you’ll stay?” you turned over to chris, watching him with pleading eyes as he grasped your hand in his.

“promise.”

timeskip

a couple of hours passed and you were finally off of the operating table. drowsy and unaware of where you were.

“where..where am i?” you spoke. you realized there was a strange feeling in your mouth. “waths in my mouf?!” you quickly tried to take out whatever it was from your mouth before chris stopped you.

“y/n, you need those in there baby.”

confusion took over for the rest of the day as your boyfriend completed the rest of the paper work and walked you out to the car where matt and nick were waiting.

“sooo..how’d it go?” nick asked amused as he saw your state. “nick, sit in the front i wanna sit with y/n.” chris said as he opened your side of the car door. you almost face planted as you got in but nick was quick to balance you before moving to the front seat.

chris didn’t feel like filming on the way back home since he’s sure you would kill him if he ever uploaded a video of you in this state. blabbering on and on about nothing that made sense while also questioning everything and anything.

“chrissy…why are there three of you.” you pouted before poking your boyfriend’s face, the reaching to poke matt and nick’s face as well. matt swatted your hand away and scolded you since he’s driving.

“why are you yelling at me?” you frowned at matt who you thought was chris before saying, “im breaking up with you!”

chris could only laugh at your antics causing his brothers to join in as well.

“y/n that’s matt.” he softly said while caressing your shoulder.

you made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth in realization, and muttered and apology to matt for threatening him.

you all made it back home, with chris carrying you to your shared room. as soon as he set you down on the bed it was lights out for you. immediately falling asleep in your boyfriend’s bed. he smiled as he moved his face in front of yours, softly giving you a kiss on the forehead, trying not to wake you up.

“i love you, y/n.” chris whispered, to which he got a snore in response. but thats all he needed. he knew you loved him just as much.

-

a/n: sorry i didnt know how to end it but i hope you enjoyed!

[abbyshands]

THE LAST OF US, and the israeli themes surrounding it

i'm very glad that people were able to see one of the previous things i published, where i complied a series of links that you can use to learn more of what's going on in gaza, how you can help, places you need to boycott, etc. however, at the end of the post, there is a large part of it that is DIRECTLY meant for people who play or watch the last of us, or play the last of us 2.

the last of us 2 in specific is not at all elusive in displaying the chilling themes we are seeing before us today. what boggles my mind, is that a select few individuals are choosing to keep publishing fics, reblogging them, uploading content that has NOTHING to do with what's going on, etc. also, you can't reblog one thing about palestine and claim that you care, then flood your account or people's home pages in fanfiction, especially during a media blackout. it just doesn't work like that.

i took the time to make a post discussing all of the israeli/palestinian themes that the games as a whole, but mainly the second one, display. if you are my mutual, a friend, a fan of my work, or a fan of the game or show, then i 100% demand you read this. if you can read fics for hours, you can spend time to read a post discussing the universe those very fics came from.

a lot of us are now aware of the last of us's nature in regards to the ongoing genocide, but not many people know the specifics of it. after seeing this post last night (the person who made this, you are an angel), i decided to take the time to dive into the specifics of the last of us 2's israeli nature, on a logical level, but also a moral level, using a list of sources to help me along, which will be linked at the end of this post. i will link the sources along the way so you know which sources i got my information from.

regardless of if this changes anyone's mind about ignoring the media blackout, or not giving a fuck about what's going on period, know this: regardless of how you feel, regardless of what you believe, from the river to the see, palestine will be free. at this fucking point, the people who are on the right side will keep speaking out and spreading awareness, regardless if you are here to do it with us. that's it. now, let's get into this.

UPCOMING DISCUSSIONS: neil druckmann, the last of us 1, the last of us 2, the last of us show and zionism in the show's cast, boycotting the game and show, and conclusion

NEIL DRUCKMANN

45-year-old neil druckmann, who was the co-director and co-writer for the last of us 2, was born in tel aviv, israel in 1978. according to the above source, druckmann was raised in a settlement in the west bank, where he was surrounded by violence on a daily basis. comics, movies, and most of all, video games, became an escape for him as a child, before he and his family moved to miami, floridawhen he was 10 years old.

to water down the full story that you can, again, read here, druckmann went to college to major in criminology. however, when he was in college, druckmann took a compsci course, that later lead to his major becoming coding as opposed to criminology. soon after, he knew he wanted a career that related to one thing: video games.

in the summer of 2013, the last of us part 1 was released, and it was renowned as one of best video games to have ever been made. in 2020, druckmann and nd released the last of us part 2, followed by the 2022 release of HBO's show based on the first video game. druckmann played a huge part on set, being not only the co-creator and co-writer of the show, but also having directed an episode himself. druckmann will remain involved in the second season of the show.

bringing up neil druckmann’s background is a crucial aspect of what’s upcoming in this post, hence why i wanted to discuss it at all. druckmann growing up in israel is one of the sole reasons the last of us was ever made at all, and not only that: it is the reason why the second game is the way it is, because neil druckmann planted his israeli ideologies right into it.

so, let’s speak on it.

THE LAST OF US 1

on the official the last of us podcast, neil druckmann himself discussed the last of us' link to the israeli-palestinian conflict, and now, genocide. the general consensus was that people will go ridiculously far for the people that they love. this idea of druckmann's was revealed when he discussed the first time the main character of the first game, joel miller, kills somebody to keep his daughter, sarah, safe from harm. this is one of the first scenes in the game prior to the time jump, where the pair's neighbor becomes infected, and attacks them. joel uses a gun to kill him so that the neighbor doesn't harm sarah.

the following is a quote i would like to copy from this link word for word: "Druckmann said he follows "a lot of Israeli politics" and compared the incident to Israel's release of hundreds of Palestinians prisoners in exchange for the captured Israeli soldier Gilad Shalit in 2011."

the plot of the first game, as neil druckmann explained, is based around a moral dilemma. he discusses how if joel had to kill a man to save a random kid, would he have done it? druckmann himself says, "but when it was his tribe, his daughter, there was no question about what he was going to do."

while the first game, in my opinion, isn't as heavily centered around israeli themes as the second game is, regardless, it is heavily crucial to note that the basis of the first game derived from a real-life incident involving israel and palestine, where hundreds of palestinian people (edit: i believe it is more than 1,000) were released from imprisonment, all in exchange for one israeli soldier. in the second game, the israeli-palestinian themes, if you look closely enough, scream out at you.

let's talk about it.

THE LAST OF US 2

"There is a common saying that if you seek revenge, you should dig two graves. Playing The Last of Us Part II is like being made to dig those graves with your teeth (Zacny)."

nd's 2022 the last of us part II is described down to the last letter in the above quote, albeit the game's utterly obvious israeli nature. in this post, the creator, rob zacny, goes on to discuss the game's theme of a "cycle of violence," and how the game reminds you in each grotesque encounter of the cruel ideology behind that. due to what occurs in the last of us 1, joel, basically, reaps what he sows when he is murdered for killing a surgeon who, along with the group said surgeon was a member of, the fireflies, was planning to perform surgery on ellie, who joel had since grown close to, in search of a cure for the infection that has plagued their world for decades. four years later, the second playable character in the game, who is introduced in the first half hour or so, abby anderson, kills joel to avenge the surgeon who was murdered, who happened to be her father. from then on, the game follows what, again, can only be described as a "cycle of violence." joel kills abby's dad, abby kills joel, ellie kills all of abby's friends, aims to kill abby in the final battle of the game, but spares abby when ellie's conscious morally attacks her for her decisions.

throughout the 24 odd hour gameplay, the player is allowed to play as ellie and abby, abby's parts of the game being arguably longer than ellie's. the idea this, i believe, is meant to introduce, is one of perspective: the player is meant to be loyal to joel miller once the first game has been finished, so when he is killed, they are inclined to make abby pay for it. however, abby's perspective, both in the past and as the present course of the game goes on, is meant to make the player understand why she did what she did. thus, the moral: there are no good guys in this game. every person is as equally bad as the following, and no one is innocent. however, when we consider the israeli-palestinian nature of this ideology and how it is presented in the last of us part 2, it simply doesn't work like this.

“I suspect that some players, if they consciously clock the parallels at all, will think The Last of Us Part II is taking a balanced and fair perspective on that conflict, humanizing and exposing flaws in both sides of its in-game analogues. But as someone who grew up in Israel, I recognized a familiar, firmly Israeli way of seeing and explaining the conflict which tries to appear evenhanded and even enlightened, but in practice marginalizes Palestinian experience in a manner that perpetuates a horrific status quo (Maiberg).”

when discussing the last of us part 2’s plot, one could 100% argue that there really aren’t good guys on the dual sides of the game. if you compare ellie and abby, you know that ellie went on a murder frenzy to get revenge on abby for killing joel. on abby’s side of it all, you know that abby wasn’t all that great before coming across lev and yara, and even then, she killed people to do what everyone in said world aims to do: survive. prior to finding lev and yara, abby had killed numerous people before, and did, as the player sees, handle joel very cruelly before she ended up killing him. here’s one more example, one that’s more random (but it’s simply to compare abby vs. ellie’s people, if you will): joel and manny. joel went on a cross country murder spree to keep ellie safe, and killed a building full of people at the end of the game to save her life. in regards to manny, if you recall a discussion that manny and mel had in the beginning of abby’s parts of the game, the pair are discussing a happening where a group aside from the wlf, the seraphites (which we will discuss later) attacked them because the wlf killed children who were a part of their (the seraphite’s) group. manny voiced how he would prefer to keep their people (the wlf) safe, and challenges mel, implying that those “kids” weren’t really kids, because they were the ones who attacked their guys (the wlf) in the first place. as a general consensus, manny kills several people throughout the course of the game, which can be inferred or seen by the player, making him, for the sake of what i’m getting at, a bad guy.

we see in the game how ellie and abby’s people are unanimously bad. the last of us is set in a world where laws and morals are thrown out the window for the sake of survival, so this is no surprise. however, this dual perspective, “no bad guy,” ideology simply doesn’t apply in the world today. you may compare ellie vs. abby, or joel vs. manny, or bring in more characters in the game, such as tommy, nora, etc, claiming that all parties are bad. that makes perfect sense. but think about it like this: if this is meant to represent the israeli-palestinian perspective, and i give you the scenario of a five-year-old child versus a full-grown IDF soldier, what would you say? isn’t there an obvious answer as to who is in the wrong and who’s not? maiberg is 100% right in claiming that the game marginalizes the real-life palestinian experience. abby, ellie, joel, manny, etc, are not real people. but the thousands of innocent children who have been killed for the ridiculousness and inhumane israeli regime are. you can’t say each side is equal in awfulness, not when one side is full of innocent men, women, and children, some of which could never make it into a year of their lives. not when if one side pauses their battle, there would be a ceasefire, but if the converse pauses their battle, they would all be dead.

“And then they cheered afterward,” Druckmann, who grew up in Israel, recalls. “It was the cheering that was really chilling to me. … In my mind, I thought, ‘Oh, man, if I could just push a button and kill all these people that committed this horrible act, I would make them feel the same pain that they inflicted on these people.’"

remember how i said discussing neil druckmann's background was crucial? it is. druckmann, who, again, was born in israel, told the Washington Post that the game's cynical themes of revenge and suffering is linked to the 2000 killing of two israeli soldiers (tw, lynching), who were killed by a mob (maiberg). allegedly, some of the incident was remembered in film, that druckmann watched, and in his interview, he explained his angry nature that came about in response to the video, and how he desired vengeance.

the last of us part 2 is mainly set in seattle, washington, where secondary main character, abby anderson, resides in with a militia group named the wlf (which we will also delve into later, alongside the seraphites). maiberg brings out how seattle, on a visual and mechanical level, is based around "a series of checkpoints, security walls, and barriers (Maiberg)." he notes: "[seattle] looks almost exactly like the tall, precast concrete barriers and watch towers Israel started building through the West Bank in 2000." here are side by side images for comparison:

now that we’ve discussed this, let us discuss one of most prevalent aspects of abby’s part of the story: the wlf, and the seraphites. the seraphites are a religious group, nicknamed “the scars” due to the scars the members of said group carve into their faces to display their membership, who the wlf, a makeshift militia group, runs into conflict with following the fall of FEDRA, the country’s former military. in a note in the game, a fedra commander explains that the city of seattle has been lost to the wolves (the wlf), who he names as terrorists. maiberg brings out the following: “Here, there are parallels to early Zionist organisations that fought British rule in the region. These organizations were also described as terrorists, and leaders of those organizations later became leaders in Israel, much like how Isaac, the leader of the Wolves, came to control Seattle. Other in-game notes, scenes of urban ambushes, and the bodies of executed FEDRA officers laboriously walk the player through the cliche "one man's terrorist is another man's freedom fighter (Maiberg).”

maiberg also discusses a series of manners in which the fictional seraphites resemble real-life palestinians. here are the three ways he specifically discusses in his original post, but there are much more:

“The same note from the Seattle FEDRA commander that bitterly says the Wolves are in charge explains that it's now their responsibility to not only feed and shelter the people of Seattle, but deal with the "religious fanatics," referring to the Scars.

Later in the game, Ellie finds a location called "Martyr Gate," where the Scars' spiritual leader apparently died, indicating a religious significance of a specific and disputed location, and emphasizing the notion of martyrdom as central to their culture.

The Scars are able to get around Wolf patrols and various barriers around the city via an elaborate, secret system of bridges between skyscrapers. These function as a kind of flipped version of the underground tunnels Palestinians use to bypass Israeli blockades and other means of limiting free movement in order to get supplies and carry out attacks on Israel.”

one more post i would like to link is this one, the very reason i decided to make this in the first place. it captures the zionism in the last of us 2, along with the wlf vs. seraphite conflict, perfectly. i very much recommend you read it, as it explains it much better than i can.

the general consensus is this: the idea that the seraphites are equally as bad as the wlf, which implies that palestinians are equally as bad as israelis, simply doesn’t apply in 2024. as i said before: what is so vile and cruel about a newborn baby? a pregnant woman? an innocent man? NOTHING. part of the reason the last of us captures this so poorly is due to the apocalyptic nature of the world the game is set in. obviously, people would go rogue if their lives were put in peril by not only animalistic infected beings, but also humans. however, we live in a real world where laws and morals do, in fact, apply. this isn’t a video game where those are simply discarded. what the wlf and the seraphites did to each other in the last of us 2 could be any other day for them: but what israel is doing to palestine right now is a war crime, a genocide, and plainly vile.

THE LAST OF US SHOW, and zionism in the show’s cast

i don’t think i need to spend a lot of time here, because if you have made it this far, you are well aware of the real nature of the last of us and the last of us 2 already, so you must understand that the show is HBO’s take on the game’s story (which, need i remind you show-wise and game-wise, neil druckmann played a huge part in). i simply bring it up so that people are aware of the fact that the 2022 show is ALSO linked to the ongoing genocide, and the cast is a major part of that (however, if anyone would like me to delve deeper into the show, let me know, and i 100% will).

for the following season which is a sequel to the last, theorized to center around the happenings of the last of us 2, members who are set to play a few crucial characters in the game have been announced. this includes isabela merced, who will play dina woodward, ellie’s romantic partner for most of the game, alongside kaitlyn dever, who will play abby anderson.

many people freaked out when they realized kaitlyn dever will be playing abby, but not for the reason they should have been. if you are a last of us fan, you are well aware that abby’s muscles are a central aspect of her persona. yet, kaitlyn dever is on the skinnier side, and according to some, does not resemble abby.

but this is not the issue that is most crucial to discuss.

kaitlyn dever is a zionist, and so is isabela merced (i am under the impression that both of these claims are true, but i had trouble finding a source i deemed reliable enough to link here. if i do, however, i will). now, while i’m not here to riddle you with conspiracy theories, people believe this (zionism) is the reason kaitlyn dever in specific got the role of abby anderson (there is a separate actress, shannon berry, who more closely resembles abby, but made a post in solidarity with palestine. this is theorized to be the reason why she didn’t get the part, and why kaitlyn dever was announced shortly after this particular actress made said post). let us not also forget that ellie’s actor, bella ramsey, is also in support of israel, which can be seen here.

(edit: i was informed since making this that bella has a story on one of their social medias, showing their alleged support of palestine and calling for a ceasefire. i’m going to link this post where i spoke on it, so you aware of what i think on that front).

all of the previously provided information brings me to my final part of this post: boycotting the games, and boycotting the show.

BOYCOTTING THE GAME AND SHOW

i could go on and on about why this is so crucial, but we would be here forever. however, i’m going to paste in what i wrote in this post surrounding the topic of boycotting, as i personally believe i got it down quite well in regards to the last of us (the show and game). it reads:

"DO NOT BUY TLOU, TLOU REMASTERED, TLOU2, TLOU2 REMASTERED, OR ANY GAME FROM ND! neil druckmann has donated money to the IDF in the past. & where do you think he’s getting his money from? yeah, you got that. watch gameplays, pirate these games, or buy them secondhand. several shops sell used games. & for those of you who went and purchased the game anyway, knowing about all of this? fuck you.

if you think your $10 doesn’t matter, then think about this: okay, one person spends $10 on the game. whatever. but when 100,000 people do it? that’s a million dollars, going into the hands of a zionist, who is using YOUR money to help kill innocent men, women, and children. put that in your pipe and smoke it.

it is not just the games you need to boycott. HBO’S show also needs to be. follow this link to learn of more movies and shows you need to boycott, & the reasons why, including the last of us. let’s also not forget that dina & abby’s actresses are in support of israel, and BELLA RAMSEY, ellie’s actress, has also shown support.

boycott. the fucking. show. there are a million websites where you can pirate it, so you are not giving any of your support to it. resist."

what it comes down to is this: purchasing the game or watching the show directly from nd or HBO is not a must. spreading awareness and speaking out about palestine is. you are more than capable of not purchasing the game, or watching playthroughs, or buying the game secondhand, etc. you are more than capable of pirating the hbo show so that money is not made off of your engagement. it's not that difficult. i have said it once, and i will say it again: boycotting is a form of resistance, and that is the least we can do for those suffering in gaza as you read this. resist. people openly admitting that they went and purchased the game anyway simply make me sick. i hope you know what an awful thing to brag about that is, and how despicable of a human it makes you.

CONCLUSION

there's so much to discuss when it comes down to this topic, and it's possible that in the future, i will make a second part to this. however, for now, i really hope this does suffice. i believe knowing of the game's israeli nature is a step. but knowing the specifics is a leap, one that i need everyone engaged in this fandom to take, hence why i wanted to make this post at all.

i'm not saying anyone needs to quit liking the games or the show or whatever. i'm not saying you need to delete or throw away a game you spent $60 on. i've seen so many people who are way too dense to understand that. what i'm saying is that it's crucial you are at least AWARE of the content you are consuming. aware of why it even came about at all.

in my opinion, you can't separate the game from the roots. but you can remain aware of the inner workings of this world you've grown to love. you can keep spreading awareness about it, and you can do right by the people in gaza by discussing the ongoing genocide, and using your voice as much as you can.

i'm so lucky to have been able to gain a following on here in such a short amount of time, even if that following has gone up and down because i've chosen to post more about palestine as opposed to my previous content (granted, that fact won't deter me at all). i will keep using said following to keep speaking out for the people in gaza, and i encourage you to do the same. keep reblogging. keep speaking up. keep using your voices. the people in gaza need us. be there for them.

FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA, PALESTINE WILL BE FREE 🇵🇸🍉.

LINKS AND RESOURCES:

neil druckmann | the official the last of us podcast | the not so hidden israeli politics of the last of us 2, by emanuel maiberg (i highly recommend you read the full post. it discusses several crucial details i didn't discuss in this post) | galid shalit prisoner exchange | Neil Druckmann Speaking on the Washington Post | 2000 killing of two israeli soldiers (TW: LYNCHING) | 'The Last of Us Part II' Is a Grim and Bloody Spectacle, but a Poor Sequel | Veiling Colonial Violence: The Last of Us Part II, Israel and the Erasure of Power (full disclosure, i did not read the full post. i merely needed the quote in the very beginning of it) | zionism in tlou2 | isabela merced | kaitlyn dever | bella ramsey's support of israel

PALESTINE LINKS

—

[ikissjude]

funny bunny?¿ nrk.

in which bf!riki plays a prank on you for tiktok | tiktok series

riki x reader, fluff, crack-ish, warnings: cursing, pet names, riki is a little shit (when is he never)

riki giggled to himself as he set up the camera. one day, while mindlessly scrolling through tiktok on his phone, a particular video piqued his interest. a couple had gotten into a big argument over the boyfriend having a lot more knowledge on nails than his girlfriend expected. he immediately knew he had to make it with you. 

you weren’t too interested in tiktok, but you also loved to get your nails done. riki would often pay for your nails, even though you told him countless times he didn’t have to. he loved paying for your nails, and seeing what you got whenever you came back home. this seemed like the perfect prank to play on you.

it took riki two days to research more information about nails. he memorized the different shapes, some of the common polish colors, he even asked sunoo the difference between gel x and acrylic nails a couple times. today, riki offered to take you to get your nails done after having such a busy week, saying he wanted to “treat you as usual”. but this time, he wanted to give a suggestion.

riki pressed record and straightened his face after seeing you approach the car.  “hey baby,” he greets you as you settle into the car. “you ready to go?”

“yes, thank you for taking me ki.” he grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles. “are you gonna get your nails done with me this time?”

“aha, absolutely not.” he laughs off your request. you’ve practically begged him endlessly to get your nails done together, but there’s no way he would budge anytime soon. “i was actually thinking though, you should get something different this time.”

“really? what should i get?” you smile at your boyfriend. the sparkle in your eyes almost caused him to falter in the moment. he took your hand and spread your fingers apart, pretending to get a good look at them.

“i know you like simple styles, maybe try a short tapered square with a french tip?” he could see your head twitch slightly in his peripheral vision, and it took everything in him to not smile and blow his cover.

“or you could get that funny bunny and bubble bath combo? i saw that and it was really cute, it would suit you well.” this time you snatched your hand away from his grasp. 

“riki, what the fuck are you talking about?” you shrieked. he looked up at your wide eyes, which were astonished at his recommendations. he let a giggle slip, just before pulling it together and feigning innocence.

“what? i’m giving you recommendations.”

“and where exactly have you seen these nails? and how do you know what they are?” you said in shock. riki was right, you liked simpler nail styles; however you didn’t expect him to know anything about nail shapes and designs. “who have you been hanging around?” you asked, squinting your eyes at him.

“baby this is, like, common knowledge.”

“no it’s not? are you seriously trying to gaslight me right now?” you laughed incredulously. 

almost comically, you looked around the vehicle to check for cameras when you caught a red light peeking from your boyfriend’s side. riki knew he had been caught when you turned to him with a smile and flushed cheeks from embarrassment. 

riki couldn’t help himself and busted out laughing, pointing at your sheepish face, and back to his phone. he stopped recording and saved the video to edit and upload later.

“i got you so good, y/n, you gotta admit i did pretty good with this one.”

“i can’t believe you did, i’ve seen this trend on tiktok too!” you groaned, hiding your face behind your hands. “still, how’d you even know about any of that?”

“tons of research, and sunoo helped me a bit.”

“can’t believe you got sunoo to help swindle me as well.” you said as you leaned back in the seat and crossed your arms, a pout present on your lips.

“aw, it’s just a tiny prank, baby. besides, i’m still taking you to get your nails done.” riki said, leaving a peck on your cheek and pulling out of the driveway.

© ikissjude 2024

[babygorewhore]

I’ll follow you until you love me.

The moment Eddie Munson saw you, he thought you were perfect and once he finds your social media, it gives him insight into your world. But he can’t get enough of you. Eddie can’t stop himself from acting on his desire to follow you. Eddie is determined to make you his. But maybe he’s not as subtle as he thinks.

This is my installment of a shared universe with a mutual. Who will be writing her installment of this universe soon.

Warnings! Smut! 18plus only! Stalker! Eddie. Obsession. Oral! Fem recieving! Unprotected PnV! Fem reader is alternative/goth in this. Eddie is a Bartender. I’m sick and I edited once so if you saw mistakes ignore them.

Eddie knew he was breaking some sort of code. But he couldn’t find it in himself to stop. He was…addicted. You weren’t even friends. Friendly at best. He knew you for only a couple of weeks. Your parents owned his favorite music store and he was sorting through the collection of Black Sabbath CDs when he saw you for the first time in the same aisle.

He immediately fell for you. Everything about you was perfect. Your body. Your face. Your clothes. Your voice. Eddie was completely mesmerized when you both had a conversation about why CDs were essential to the music listening experience. It took everything in him not to kiss you and ruin your pretty lipstick.

As soon as he was alone in his van, he yanked out his phone. Typed in your name and hunted for any sign of accounts you had. He didn’t even use his social media but you would be the exception. You were everything. After several minutes, he finally found your pretty picture. He sighed and leaned back in the seat.

It was your instagram. And in your bio you listed your tik tok, twitter and even your Facebook. Jackpot. Eddie’s eyes scanned over your uploads, his breathing getting heavier. It was almost as if he had a taste of your life. Your world.

The whole week in between his shift at work and when he came home, he devoured everything you posted. He watched every video you reposted, he needed to know your humor, your likes, your dislikes. He couldn’t tear himself away from looking at you.

One night, you posted your work schedule for the next week at the music store. And that’s when he decided he needed to see you again.

His shift ended at the Hawkins bar two hours after he originally planned because some fuckwad didn’t know how to show up on time. The music store would only be open for another hour so he raced to his van and probably broke three laws speeding to the building.

He speedily parked, exited and practiced in his head what he would say. He needs a copy of the band you liked Bad Omens. You posted about them all the time. Eddie needed the physical copy. Something you both talked about so it wouldn’t be weird if he asked for a disc. He inhaled and pushed open the door, glancing around as the bell rung. A collection of people were here, he tried to keep his cool. The CDS. His hair was tied into a bun and he wore all black just like you always did. He shook his head and confidently strides to the shelves.

It was different. More organized. All the decades were correct. Everything was straightened. You had the magic touch. Eddie smiled when his fingers grazed over the plastic, you had touched these. He saw Bad omens right away, but he came here for help. He purposely took a step back and wore a confused expression.

“Eddie?” There. There you were. His cock twitched. Goosebumps rose on his skin. He didn’t turn right away, no. You wouldn’t get it that easy. As badly as he wanted to turn around and-

Your hand gently grazed his shoulder. He wanted to rip off his leather jacket to feel your fingers on his bare skin and his breath shuddered. Finally, he shifted in your direction. Eddie almost kissed you. He had to plant his feet heavily on the floor to prevent himself. Your eyes were soft, searching his brown irises. Small crinkles around your brows showed hours of work but your mouth was curved into a polite, curious smile. You wore all black, a bad omens shirt, leggings and boots. A small name tag was right above your heart. You looked perfect. But he focused on your lipstick, the same you wore that first day. He wanted to smear your makeup. Make it run down your face while you were on your knees. He wanted to grip your hair and guide you through-

“It is Eddie, right? Don’t tell me I forgot.” He jerked his head.

“Yes. It’s Eddie. I’m glad you’re here. I’m in serious need of a music recommendation,” Eddie internally melted when you flashed him a grin.

“Well, I’m happy to assist you. I’m assuming you want this in the form of a CD?” You gave him a knowing look.

He clapped his hands. “ You remembered that. Yes. Always.” You giggled and you extended your hand towards the collection of CDs on the shelves.

“What sound are you looking for? I know you like metal. But do you want a classic recommendation, something underrated or unknown?” You sounded so considerate. You were doing your job, he knew that. But he clung to whatever interest you gave him.

“Honestly, what are you listening too? I want something different. You can only listen to so much Metallica and Black Sabbath,” Eddie dramatically pressed a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell anyone I said that.”

You nodded in kind. “Your secret is safe with me. But I can’t believe you’re actually asking for my opinion.”

“Why? I mean, I’d assume someone who shares my appreciation for metal has great taste.” He saw you from the corner of his eye, you dip your head down for a second. He needed to pace this conversation, withhold what he knows. He just needs to keep hearing your voice. He was almost trembling from the way you were accepting his attempts at charm.

“I mean-If I’m being honest. My favorite band is Bad Omens.” Eddie raised his eyebrows and nodded towards your shirt. His shoulders relaxed. Finally. This was how it went in his head.

“I haven’t listened to them. I’ve seen them on tik tok, but I just haven’t dived in.” He hoped you believed his lie.

“Excuse me?” You both turned and a older man stood at the entrance. Wearing a guns and roses shirt and light blue jeans. “I need help.”

Eddie’s chest burned. No, no, no. He just got you talking. You face him with a shadow of disappointment dancing across your features. He wanted to scream at the man but he had to stay calm. He couldn’t risk you seeing him differently. You didn’t hardly know him.

Yet.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. Gotta help him. But the CD is right there, and if you ring the bell someone will check you out. It was nice seeing you! I hope you like it!”

He was struggling to bury his anger even long after he paid for the album and made his way home. Eddie paced his room. You. You were so beautiful. So sweet. He wanted to keep listening to you talk. He wanted to know every single band you loved. He wanted-no, he needed more of you. He dug his phone out of his pocket.

Settling on his bed, knees spread apart, his thump quickly found your profile. You had so many followers. So many people watching, commenting and sharing with you online. He clenched his jaw when he looked at your story. Eddie blinked at the loud music attached. You had a closed lipped smile and your eyes were shut. And the caption talked about how much you hated rude customers. But then he recognized the song. It was Bad Omens.

He chewed his bottom lip. Was that because of him? Were you thinking about him? The same way he thought of you? He turned up the volume. Listened carefully. Was this song on the album he bought? He picked up the bag and yanked out the plastic, reading the song list on the back . Yes. It was. Eddie pressed the CD against his chest. You touched it. He brought it higher, over his chin until his lips pressed against it. He held it against his mouth, while he stared at your photo.

Eddie had memorized your work schedule. Maybe he could stop by again tomorrow. Fuck, he couldn’t. He had to work and It was too soon. You would be confused.

He couldn’t fit anymore CDs on his shelf but he would fucking build a new one if that meant he could buy more from you.

The next day he was in his car. Parked across the street with a few cars giving distance from the music store. He didn’t plan it. He was going into work in a hour. But He just needed to see you. Just look at you. That’s it. A death of Peace of mind album was playing in his van and his jaw was clenching so hard from waiting for you to step out. He had fell asleep with his phone on his chest from frantically scrolling on your profile last night.

He didn’t know how his resolution disappeared so quickly. But he couldn’t stop thinking about how sweet you were. How quickly his conversation with you ended. He couldn’t stand it. He needed more. Eddie’s breathing shortened when the entrance opened and you stepped out. You adjusted your bag, shuffled to close the door behind you and cast your search around the direction of the street.

He gripped the steering wheel, so hard his hands trembled as you moved aside for a stranger. You smiled brightly then you started to walk in the opposite direction. His eyes trailed down your body. Black jeans, black hoodie and converse. They lingered on the curve of your thighs in those pants. But he frowned. Were you walking home? You didn’t have a car?

Without a second thought, he turned the keys. In the back of his mind, he knew he was going overboard. He had work. He needed to leave. Soon. But god damn he just needed to make sure you got home safe. His van came alive and he maneuvered onto the street. There was a stop light coming, and he sped up to try and beat it before it turned red. He didn’t know how he would remain invisible as he followed you, but he had to try.

Eddie wasn’t sure how he managed, but you didn’t turn to see his van. Your apartment wasn’t far from the store thank fuck. He settled across the street, behind two cars. The same tactic he used earlier. You jogged up the driveway, where there wasnt a car. His suspicions confirmed. The complex wasn’t big, it looked similar to his own.

He glanced at the clock. He needed to get going. He hated being late. But your address was seared into his mind. He would never forget it. Eddie pulled out his phone, frantically clicking on your instagram. You had a new story. You were smiling, an adorable grin and your fingers were held in a peace sign. The caption said you were finally home. He wanted to help you relax. Spread your legs and make you see stars and never think about a stressful day again.

His dick was growing hard as he imagined your sweet face. Covered in his cum. Your eyeliner running down your cheeks. His hand ghosted the center of his pants before he stopped.

No. No he wouldn’t touch himself. He needed you. He needed to cum inside you. You deserved better than him jerking off in his car before he had the privilege of being with you. Eddie exhaled, forcing himself to drive.

The night shift was always packed. Plus as the manager, he was responsible for training and handling reckless drinkers. His hair was tied up, his usual style for his shift and his sleeves were rolled up, muscles flexing as he slid a glass to a guest. But his mind was a whirlwind. He hadn’t been able to check his phone. What were you doing? Were you relaxing? He was buzzing with energy. He hadn’t even told Steve about you yet, who apparently was busy with his own infatuation. Eddie kept looking at the clock. He had to stay over again but closing was coming soon. Halloween was in just a few days. What were you going to do? Dress up? Go to a party? Fuck, he needed to know.

He had fucking fell asleep before he had a chance to look at your instagram when he got home well after 3am. He crashed on his couch, still wearing his work clothes with his phone in his pocket where it died. Eddie practically shoved the end of the charger into his phone, his leg bouncing from waiting for it to turn back on. He knew he should have charged it. Now, it would take longer to see you.

He wanted to touch himself as he imagined your lips wrapped around him, choking on his dick as his hand is gripping your hair. His hand even drifted to his crotch until he stopped himself. No, he promised himself he wouldn’t cum until it was inside you. You were his. He checked his phone again as it finally came back to life. His fingers were frantic as they clicked on your name.

You uploaded a new story. Eddie sighed in relief. As it came up, your face looked tired. You weren’t smiling, instead you were holding up a glass, clinking it with another glass belonging to your best friend. His chest tightened. He wanted to be there. He wanted to drink with you, hold you and take care of you. You had to walk home. And he had to fucking work. He swiped to the next story.

It was this morning, he knew only because of the time included. Just an hour ago. You were smiling this time. It was your day off and you were thrilled to to go the Halloween store today. Eddie couldn’t stop looking at your bright eyes, the excitement and he needed to see it again. In person.

He had to try. He would go the store. Pretend he was looking for a Halloween costume. But when? You didn’t give a time. It didn’t matter. He would stay all day and wait. It was his day off too.

Eddie threw himself in the shower, got dressed and drove to the store. It didn’t matter if it was an hour away. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t planned dressing up, or that he would have to swap schedules. You were on his mind. Whatever you were doing, he wanted to be a part of it.

Bad omens played loudly in his van as he came into the parking lot. Eddie’s heart started to hammer as he unbuckled and stepped out. His neck was warm at the thought of hearing your voice again so he tied his hair up.

Opening the door, he was greeted with gruesome decor, rows of costumes and several people shopping. Fuck, how was he supposed to find you? If you were even here yet? His shoe tapped impatiently as he was torn on where to go. Costumes. That’s where he’d start. But what kind? Sexy? Scary? in between?

As he walked down the section, he pretended to search. His rings occasionally getting caught in the fabrics and plastic. He wasn’t interested in this. He didn’t want to participate without you. Oh god, who drove you here? Were you going to be alone? He didn’t think about that. He just moved. Eddie dug out his phone from his pocket.

“Hey, Eddie! Is that you?”

He froze.

Eddie turned around and there you were.

This time, you were wearing a dress. A black one. With a matching sweater and combat boots. But his eyes fell to the tattoo on your chest. He hadn’t seen it because you always wore higher neck tops. Eddie almost salivated. Your makeup was dark again with your apparent favorite lipstick. He wanted to touch your skin, run his tongue along the art. He knew you would taste sweet. So sweet.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Eddie dropped into a serious expression. “Are you following me?”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head. “No, I just saw you-“ Then he grinned. He knew he was such a tease.

“I’m joking, sweets. I’m just here for my Halloween costume.” Such a fucking lie. But he needed to establish a common ground.

You sighed in relief.

“Me too. We had the same idea.” You didn’t protest at the nickname. Eddie tried not to smirk. You were happy to see him. He had to ball his fists to keep from touching you.

“What are you going as? I haven’t decided.” Eddie forced himself to sound light hearted but he truly needed an idea. You set the stage on his actions.

You gestured, “Follow me and I’ll show you.”

And then you stuck out your hand. Eddie thought he would bust in his pants. He accepted as you gently guided him to the other side of the store, where a large amount of costumes were hanging on the wall. Your grip was firm, warm and steady. You were confident in taking his hand. Eddie’s eyes were glued to your lower half, covered by the fitted dress. Your calves peeked out from the slits on the side. He saw more ink. How many tattoos did you have? He wanted to explore them. Compare them to his. You came to a stop and released him. Eddie wanted to stop you, grab your hand again.

“I’m going with this,” You pointed to the hanging plastic bag and Eddie followed direction.

The picture was a Sweeney Todd costume. Fake blood included and wig. It would be hot. You could pull off anything. But the wig he wanted to protest against. Covering your perfect hair? The hair he wanted to dig his fingers in and pull? Caress? Both? “That’s a great one. I think you’ll stand out. Not everyone knows that reference.”

You smiled again. Eddie felt like he won the lottery. “I like to stand out from the crowd, I guess. My best friend is throwing a Halloween party this year. And I finally had the day off to come here.” Eddie nodded, swallowing the urge to reveal he already knew that.

“I hope you’re not working too hard but I can’t stop listening to the CD. You knew exactly what I needed.” Your hands reached up, pressing against your chest. “You really like it? I’m not used to someone actually agreeing with me.” Eddie couldn’t believe that. Who could resist you? Who wouldn’t give your favorite band a try? He would fix that problem.

“Why wouldn’t I like it, sweets? I’ll have to get more recommendations soon, it makes my driving more exciting.” You opened your mouth to respond but something caught your eye and you excitedly beamed.

Eddie turned, desperate to find what caught your attention other than him.

“That’s my favorite slasher movie! If I hadn’t already decided on this, I would wear that.” Eddie’s eyes widened. It was a Ghostface costume. Why didn’t he know that? He ground his teeth. He should have looked closer at your posts. Maybe he would have seen it. You had amazing taste in movies.

“An amazing movie. That would have also been a perfect choice. But I’m not sure anyone could be scared of you, pretty girl. You’re way too sweet.” The names slipped out his mouth before he could catch himself. But you dipped your head and bashfully peeked at him through your lashes.

He couldn’t believe this was happening. He itched to say more, compliment you more but he didn’t want to freak you out. Especially considering he watched your instagram everyday to know exactly what you were doing but he needed you. He would do whatever he needed to make you feel the same way.

Your phone started to ring. Eddie wanted to beg you not to answer. No, stay here in the moment. You sighed, holding the device up. “It’s my dad. I need to take this. But I hope I’ll see you at the store again! And maybe we can talk more. You really get me.” And then you turned away, quietly speaking to your father.

Each time he managed to speak to you, get somewhere, it was interrupted. But this wouldn’t be wasted. No. Eddie moved away from you, as painful as it was and quickly picked up the Ghostface costume. He didn’t know how he would make this work but god damn it he would.

Eddies emotions went beyond his limit when he was hunched over, phone glued to his hand as he poured over your story on his bed when he got home. Your stories consisted of showing off the costume you bought and then several memes about Halloween being everyday for you. And then you posted your old looks. Most of them were edgy, skulls, prosthetics and some were even masks. Except one. You were wearing a short, thigh high black dress. Fishnets and heels. Your face painted with the Crow makeup. Your chest ink and your leg tattoos were on display.

The intricate thorns that wrapped around both thighs but on the left center was a large showing of multiple flowers. On the right was a skull, jaw slightly open to allow a dark snake to wrap around.

His cock felt like it was going to burst but he would not give in. He just didn’t know what to do. How would he get into the party? Sneak in? He was going insane.

And that’s when Steve hit him up. When Eddie answered the phone, Steve proceeded to explain that there was a Halloween party at a penthouse. And the owner just so happened to be your best friend.

Eddie thanked whatever universe, energy or even a God if he even bothered to look at him considering what he was doing. It was Halloween night. He wore the long, black gown. A black shirt and jeans underneath. Heavy boots. Most importantly, the Mask. Steve charmed the security, getting them both inside. The lights were off only to be be replaced with LED strips covering the edges of the wall and even the ceiling.

The living room was spacious, modern furniture and sleek tables covered in red cups, beer bottles and liquor bottles. He squinted his eyes, his vision obscured by the mask. No one paid much attention to him, most people had some sort of horror film costume, he wasn’t the only Ghostface. Fuck. How would you tell it was him? He did all of this for you. Music blared, he could feel it in his chest as he walked around the penthouse. Stepping on decorations fallen to the wood floor.

Steve left his side but Eddie knew he was looking for the hostess of this party. Where were you?

There.

His breath hitched and he froze in the doorway of the kitchen. You were pouring a drink in a solo cup. Your costume was perfect. The white puffed sleeves, black vest and striped pants. Fake blood coated your hands, darkening your fingernails. You weren’t wearing a wig, instead you had the signature white streak in your hair. Good. You didn’t need the wig. He opened his mouth to talk but you turned and started walking into the next room.

No. No. Why did he take so fucking long? He was here right now. He used so much effort to be close to you. Eddie took a steadying breath. And he walked directly behind you, he kept trying to tap your shoulder but you were quick. Nearly jogging. His boots hit against the floor, growing louder from speed. You maneuvered through the crowd. Where you going? He almost lost you but you started climbing the stairs where more cobwebs and pumpkins sat.

Were you running from him? From someone else? Was your best friend up here? His mind raced with endless options as he continued prowling behind you. No one was here. He almost slammed into you as you abruptly halted.

You spun around.

“Eddie, why are you following me?” Oh, fuck.

Up close, your makeup was messy. Eyeliner smudged heavily, your lips were dark and glossy. You looked up at him through lashes. But you didn’t sound angry. Or fearful.

You sounded…playful.

He tilted his head. “I was-“

“It’s okay, Eddie. I know you’ve been following me. I know every time you look at my pictures. I knew that you followed me home. And it wasn’t an accident at the store the other day. I was hoping you would buy this.” You reached over, grasping the material of the cloak between your fingers.

Eddie grew hot. He thought he could be subtle but apparently not. You knew the whole time. But why weren’t you upset? He didn’t want you to be. But that would have been naive.

He clutched your hand. “I couldn’t help it. You’re perfect. The moment I saw you, I knew I needed you. I needed to see you, make sure you were safe. I can’t get you out of my mind. Fuck. And I just wanted to be here tonight to finally talk to you without being interrupted. All I’ve done is listen to the album you love. I know you said you weren’t mad but please, god I need you. I need to feel you. I need to-“

“Fuck me?” You finished. “Did you touch yourself while looking at me, Eddie?”

He was buzzing, ignited from the way your lips were in a smirk. You stepped closer and with your free hand, you removed his mask. His hair was even messier and his nostrils flared as he took in your perfume.

He was almost against the wall but he couldn’t take it. Eddie’s hands gripped your hips and he smashed his lips to yours. You tasted better than he imagined. And you met his intensity. Eddie flipped so you were the one pinned against the wall, diving his tongue inside your mouth. His cock was so hard it hurt and he pressed his pelvis against yours, grinding into you. A moan escaped your mouth and he reached down, grasping your knee and pulling it around his hip. He could feel how wet you were through your pants.

Eddie ripped away from your mouth, moving to concentrate to the soft skin of your neck when you grabbed him by his arm and burst through a door he didn’t notice was there. He only had time to register a bed in the center of the room before you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled his bottom lip with your teeth. “I wanted you the first day you came in,” You murmured. Eddie pushed your back against the bed, landing him on top of you and he straddled your lap.

“I-can I-can I fuck you?” He had to ask, as frenzied as he felt, he needed you to want it as much as he did.

“Fuck, Eddie. Yes, I want it so bad.” You whined, arching your back into him as he buried his face in your neck, peppering kisses against your jaw before sucking the spot above your collar bone.

You tore off the cloak, before taking off his black shirt with it and running your hands down his chest, stomach before tugging his belt. Eddie lifted his head, helping you as he kicked off his jeans. But he wanted to taste you. He slid down, peeling off your tight pants and your underwear. Eddie got impossibly harder as you mewled as he separated your legs.

Your cunt dripped with arousal and he spread it apart, coating his thick fingers. He dove in, flattening his tongue against your clit. Eddie moaned at your sweet taste as he licked down your slit before slipping his tongue inside you. You were jerking your hips to hump his face, his nose continually hitting the sensitive nerves in the center.

“I’m gonna cum.” Eddie didn’t speed up, he stayed hungrily lapping your pussy and your movement locked, your thighs squeezing his head. The entire lower half of his face was glistening as he pulled away.

Eddie crawled over you and captured your lips in a bruising kiss. Smearing cum all over your mouth, messing your lipstick even further. Just like he imagined.

“Please, fuck me.” You whimpered and he clumsily took off his boxers, releasing his heavy cock leaking with precum.

Eddie lined his dick against you before pressing inside, stretching your pussy as you clenched around him. He groaned from deep in his chest and shuddered. Your nails dug into his skin as he started thrusting, deep and hard. The bed was slamming against the wall.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking perfect, baby.”

He couldn’t even speak anymore, you felt so good he saw stars and he loved the pain from you scratching him. “I’m-I’m close.”

He wanted to hold off for you but the way you cried out, burying your face on his shoulder, Eddie spilled into you. Fuck condoms, he thought. His breath came in choked pants as he pulled out and scooped you into his arms. He was completely naked and you only had a shirt on, that he planned on removing once he caught his breath.

“I can’t believe you knew the whole time. And I can’t believe you liked me back.”

Your head turned as he held you close to him, his arms tight around you. He never wanted to let you go. Now that he’s tasted you, he could never stop.

“Eddie, why do you think I let you follow my account? Why do you think I told you to listen to bad omens? I wanted you to think about me. Besides, your friend Steve pulling the same move on my best friend.”

Holy shit. My first Eddie fic. I’m back with fics! Huge thanks to my tumblr wife @xxhellfirebunnyxx for helping me with this, encouraging me and beta reading. And my little sister @scene-and-dandylover for always supporting me.

Taglist for this!

@reidsbtch @battymunson @take-everything-you-can @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @taintandviolent @hyperharlz @elaine-in-the-membrane @onegirlmanytales @randominstake

If I forgot about have mercy I am tired

[scottishaccentsareawesome]

A couple months after Kate joins the Tornado Wranglers, Tyler uploads a video to their YouTube channel. But instead of it being him and Boone in the truck, it's just Tyler sitting in a motel room by himself, and addressing the camera full-on.

"Kate Carter is one of the smartest people I have ever met," he says. "She figured out a way to disintegrate tornadoes, do you guys know how huge that is? Do you know how important that is? It's amazing. She's amazing. And yes, you have the right to your own opinions, but a lot of those opinions that I see - that we all see - in the comments seem to be based on very face-value judgments. Because if you really knew her, if you took the time to learn how awesome she is and what she's done - and is continuing to do - for this world then you would not be making comments like that. You think we don't really know what being a "Kater" means? We know you're not fans, we know you're literally "Kate Haters" so let me just say this - it will not be tolerated. Myself and the Wranglers LOVE our fans, and we love that you help spread awareness for our causes and you share our videos to help teach people about tornadoes and tornado safety, and that's awesome. But Kate Carter is one of the Tornado Wranglers now, and that is not going to change any time soon...not unless she ever wants it to. And I hope she never does, because she is a great asset to our team. So if you care about the Wranglers, you will recognize that Kate is one of us, and if you don't like her, or don't like somebody else on our team, that's fine. You're entitled to your opinion, but don't go filling up our socials with hateful comments when all we are trying to do is make this country and the world a better and safer place to live in. Yes, Kate and I are dating, but that is nobody's business. She doesn't like her private life to be made public on social media and neither do I, which is why this YouTube page is about chasing tornadoes and not a video diary about what we do on the weekends when we're not driving in those trucks."

"...Growing up in Arkansas, my mama always raised me on the rule that if you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all." he said. "Show us your support by showing respect, or just leave the comment box blank. If you feel it, you should chase it - but you don't always have to say it. Stay safe out there and we'll see you on the next ride."

This video became one of the Wranglers most shared videos and in the weeks that followed Kate got such a huge outpouring of love from the fans (including a few fan pages dedicated personally to her) that she was brought to tears (happy tears) more than once.

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

For a request:

Maybe a rescue fic with ghost, price, or soap? One where they rescue their non military fem s/o? I know you’ve written some already and they are so good but I EAT THEM UP EVERY TIME and love that trope so much!!!!!!

Hurt/comfort is my drug I swear

I know that’s pretty vague so maybe I’ll think of more eventually but that’s what I’ve got for now.

I love your writing!

- 🧚🏻‍♀️🧚🏻‍♀️

None Lacking Sins

Pairing: Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader

Synopsis: It started with the incident at the grocery store and then built to the hidden gun in the nightstand and a quick, frantic, call to your boyfriend.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings: Implied stalking, violence & blood, angst, protective Soap, suggestive language and conversations, implications of wanting a kid, vulgar language, fluffy banter, hurt/comfort, canon typical actions, edited in the middle of the night

A/N: I've been in a Soap mood lately, tbh. I think I'm going to flip-flop uploads for my Gaz series and Requests too...anyways. Enjoy, anon! You can never go wrong with a rescue fic!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*  

You called him for the first time when you were at the store, picking out dinner and asking what he wanted for a welcome home meal.

“Well,” his sly voice made you roll your eyes, but a smile still blossomed over your lips. “If you want me to be rash, Bonnie, I’d say that I wouldn't mind a good bite out of your–”

“Johnny, you finish that sentence, you’re not going to get anything besides butter on toast. Give me a recipe before it gets dark out.” Veiled glee was obvious from your tone, and the heat on your face could all but be heard over the line. Two months apart had made you both eager to be in each other's presence. 

Picking up a box of pasta, you flip it over and check the price, sticking to your budget and tilting the phone parallel to your chin. A deep chuckle meets your ears, and your chest feels light as it pierces your lungs. 

Your boyfriend was off in Australia this deployment—he’d been complaining about the heat nonstop on those few and far between video calls the two of you shared. While it was a step-up to know where exactly Johnny was this go around, the prospect of his job still made you incredibly nervous. There was never a time you could remember when he came home without a new cut or scar; bruises were all but guaranteed. 

Sucking down a soothing breath, you place the pasta into your cart and fix the phone’s position. The Scot was coming home in a day or so, you wanted to make him feel at home again. Destress.

You’ll see him before you know it. There’s no need to worry.

“Bit snappy, then, eh? Oh, alright.” The man huffs good-heartedly, and you hear the springs of those thin barracks-bed mattresses as his large frame shifts. Johnny lets off a soft sigh before continuing. You listen intently, leaning onto the handlebar ahead of you. “What about a nice plate ‘O that one you always make—hell—the…the one with the Pollock and cabbage.”

You blink through a laugh, shaking your head and pushing yourself off to go find the needed ingredients. The dish wasn’t easy to make, in fact, it took a helluva lot of time, but you didn’t mind in the slightest when it came to cooking for Johnny. He deserved it. 

“Hey, now,” He teases, smirking to himself, “What’s so funny over there, Dearie? You makin’ fun of me?”

“I would never dream of it, oh great and wondrous, Mr. MacTavish!” You huff, fake serious, as you place a box of cookies into the cart and pass a few strangers who raise an eyebrow at your conversation. A man passes by with a blue cap on, and you swerve the cart to move around him while tossing back a frown. You soon continue on like nothing happened, pulling back the sense of security from the man over the line. “Do you want mashed potatoes with that as well? Wine?”

Johnny groans, “Hey, you’re the one that asked me!” 

Divulging into giggles, you make your way around the store and stock up, holding a light conversation about how he and the rest of the boys were doing. 

“Ghost told me to let you know he appreciated the book you lent him, said he’d get it back to ya as soon as he’s able.” The Scot comments, and a hum makes its way from you as you head to the self-checkout. 

“Well, that’s good. I said he would like it – the bastard’s so tight-lipped about what he enjoys it was hard to nail-down a genre.” A chortle sounds off when you gather the chilled pollock and scan it; the phone was held against your shoulder to your ear. “High Fantasy for the win, I guess.” 

“I should get the man to read ‘The Way of Kings’ next time—form a little book club, y’know? Get all the boys in on it like some old ladies.” It was adorable how cute Johnny sounded, like a kid on Christmas. “Stemin’ Jesus, could you picture that, Bonnie?”

“I’d pay to see you pitch that, Dear.” A cheeky tone leaks through. “Price would laugh straight into your face.” 

“Please, the old man doesn’t know how to laugh….He’d just puff cigar smoke in my face and tell me to fuck off.” 

“As I said—I’d pay to see it.” Your boyfriend grumbles under his breath as you place the paper bags into your cart, the contents heavy, and grab your receipt with quick fingers. “Gaz would definitely be in for it, though.”

“I don’t doubt that. Anything beats playing cards for weeks straight, aye?” Your hand can finally grip the phone once more, and you sigh contently as the strained position of your neck finally rights itself. 

You’re about to answer but slow your pace with a scrunched look of confusion as you exit. 

Passing through the front doors, you suddenly get a strange sensation in the back of your mind to turn around. The hairs along your arms stand up as a breeze passes the steadily chilling dark sky, but the way the shiver ran down your spine wasn’t due to cold. Lips thinning, you spare a glance over your shoulder and look along the brightly lit grocery store as its windows leave cascading rays of light over the sun-bleached concrete. The black asphalt of the parking lot is hard under your feet.

There are a handful of other patrons at the checkouts—mothers with children and others buying quick meals for dinner—but none are out of the ordinary. 

You huff and roll your shoulders.

Maybe the day’s just getting to me.

“Bonnie,” Johnny’s slightly concerned voice brings you blinking back, turning your head back to the sparsely lit parking lot and realizing you had stopped walking completely. Your hand was sweaty like you’d just run somewhere. Fixing your hold on the device, your boyfriend continues, “...Everything alright? You’ve gone all quiet over there.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you laugh dismissively, trudging forward to your car, “I just got the weirdest feeling right outside the grocery store.” 

The cart makes a loud rumbling sound as it goes over loose rocks and the bumpy texture of the asphalt, the metal rattling loudly so you have to strain your ears to hear Johnny’s next words. 

“What kind of feeling?” His drowned-out voice was so serious that it shocked you—you’d only ever heard him use a tone like this when he had briefly talked about nightmares that had woken him up in your shared bed. 

The Scot’s words were monotone, slow, and even if the sound of the cart’s wheels was raging all around you and making your skull rattle, you’d still swear you would identify that tone over a hurricane. It made your gut churn. 

“Really, it’s probably nothing,” you play off with a tense shrug he can’t see, coming to a stop at your car and reaching into your pocket for your keys. “I just got a chill.” 

Your eyes look around before you open the trunk, biting into your lip at the long shadows that the tall street lamps give off. Licking over your teeth, you bink dismissively and shake your head, unlocking the vehicle and huffing as you begin loading in your purchases. 

“Anyways,” you try to ignore the hard build of your spine or the way your eyes travel back to the brightly lit store. There wasn’t anyone out here but you and the dead forms of cars, trees off in the distance, and far-off lights of other buildings. You swallow and clear your throat. “I was thinking about getting us a dog.” 

“You’re not gettin’ out of this that—wait, did you say dog?” Across the world in a shitty bed, Johnny’s once concerned eyes widen, jaw going slack. “No way in Christ’s Hell, Dearie.”

“Oh, come on!” You groan, placing the second to last bag into the car and tuning your back to the street, throwing out your hand. “It doesn’t have to be a big dog—just one I can go on walks with and keep me company. I know you have a bad past with them, Love, but I just want someone to help not make the house so empty when you’re gone.” 

Your voice slides off near the end of the sentence, and you try not to sound so sullen. Johnny frowns as he stares into the far wall of the barracks over the heads of sleeping men, itching at the back of his neck. It was no secret that the Scot wasn’t particularly fond of canines—his encounters with them were almost never pleasant unless he knew the handler. 

But…

“I’ll think it over, eh, Bonnie?” He relents, sighing, and he thinks he hears snickers from a dark form in the distant corner. The Sergeant glares over at it and continues with a pang of internal guilt about how lonely you must feel most of the time. “Promise…but you’re more likely to get a cat dressed in a suit than a mangy mutt anytime soon.” 

You laugh at the attempt of a lighthearted joke, closing the trunk with a roll of your eyes. A breeze goes by and your arms erupt into shivers, clothes not enough to keep out the chill. 

“I’ll take it.” 

“Hm, you know,” Johnny smirks, rubbing at the sleep in his eyes and grunting out huskily, “there’s another way to make sure the house won’t be all quiet when I’m gone.”

“Keep it in your pants, MacTavish. You’re not even here yet.” Smiling through the heat of your cheeks, the skin of your cheeks glows; your body rolls with heat. “Save it for tomorrow.”

“What, am I gettin’ you all worked up over there?” He hums, and you grab your cart, pushing it into one of the specific areas where someone would grab it in the morning. “‘Cause I have no problem with waitin’, Dearie, all the more perfect when I get to be with ya.’”

“You wish, handsome.” Walking back to the slight rumbling of your car, you speak through tilted lips and completely miss the form walking up beside you. “I think that—”

“Excuse me?” 

Yelping, you nearly drop your phone to the floor as it slips out of your startled grip; heart jerking at the sudden intrusion into an intimate conversation. Swiftly turning around you spot the same man as before—the one with the blue cap that had passed by quite rudely in the store. His strong face looks sheepish.

Johnny quickly calls your name through the line, and you let off a reassurance before tilting the device down.

“Holy hell, man, give a girl a warning next time, yeah?” Chuckling weakly to push back tension and the twisting of your intestines, you notice the stranger’s tall frame is covered in a heavy jacket. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Yeah, actually,” He’s not outwardly alarming to look at, the man, with his loose body gestures and controlled tone. “Sorry, but I was just wondering if you could lend me a hand. I found a kitten under a van back there,” he points, and you look over to the far corner of the parking lot. Sure enough, there was a large van surrounded by two black cars. Your eyes narrow on the scene, already getting a prickly feeling. “Do you have any food that might bring it out? Or maybe you’d be willing to reach under and grab the little bastard?” 

The stranger laughs and continues with a jerking of his shoulders. You watch every movement with an upticking pulse, fingers tight over the phone as Johnny listens with growing worry. 

The Sergeant's dark eyebrows pull tight, and he stands like he could run out the door to you; jaw tight and muscles wound.

“Put me on speaker.” You decline silently. Better not to get a hotheaded and protective Scot involved when he was thousands of miles away.

“Sorry,” Clearing your throat, you take a step back, attempting a friendly smile. “I have to get home to my husband.” It wasn’t the first time you’d had to use the spouse card to get away from creeps, and it won't be the last. Worked better than just the boyfriend title, honestly. And there was something about this man’s eyes that didn’t sit right with you. “Work night and all, you understand?”

“He left yet?” Johnny asks, gruff as his accent gets stronger. “Else I’m callin’ the store and sending security out to you.” 

“It shouldn’t take a long time,” the man begs and you take another slow step back to the car door, pupils going tiny. Breaths shallow. “You’ll be back to your…husband, in a few minutes. I’d hate to leave the poor guy all alone.” 

“Sorry.” You say again, firmer. “No.” 

Not wasting any time, you open the car and jump inside, wrenching it closed once more and pressing the lock. Breathing heavily, you stick the keys into the ignition, missing a couple of times, and look into the side mirrors to spy on the tall shadow that hovers like a plague. 

“Sweetheart? Hey?” Johnny calls out your name as you force the car to start driving away, face tight and limbs shaking. “Hey, are you alright?” 

The man has half the sense to wake up Price, but with the stirring bodies around him, there’s half a chance the Captain already knows something’s off. Johnny hadn’t bothered to check his noise level when the uncomfortableness seeped from you over to him. What kind of a man approaches a woman near dark and asks a question like that? The action didn’t sit right with the Scot. 

Johnny’s body hums with energy—volatile rage keeps his heart in a tight fist with a deep seething hatred of not being with you to help force back the freaks in person. He wasn’t above getting into someone's face if the situation called for it; after a couple of outings to less-than-nice pubs, all it took was a few nervous glances from you nowadays for him to create a barrier out of his own flesh.

“I’m okay,” you whisper to him, biting at your lips and peeling back flesh. “It’s all good. I-I’m on the road already.” 

A great weight falls from the man in the form of a sigh. He slowly sits back down on the mattress, lips thinning and slightly shaking his head. His free hand comes up to rub over his cheek. 

“Good. That’s good…” He snaps out of his concerned stupor quickly, but the fast beating of his heart does anything but slow. “You’re okay.” 

It wasn’t worded as a question, maybe more of a reassurance, but it helped you immensely. Your tension lessened at the comforting sound of Scottish drawl and deep, silver, voice. But you wanted him to wrap his arms around you; gaze into those cerulean orbs.

Tomorrow.

“Keep on the line until I get home?” You ask feebly, not able to resist looking in the mirrors as you turn out of the parking lot. 

The blue-capped stranger was still standing there, and one of the black cars in the far corner had turned its headlights on. A deep dread overtakes your ribs like you’d just gotten out of something very, very, bad. A sense of a lingering morality stays in between your ribs.

“‘Course. Wouldn’t be doin’ anything else, Bonnie.” Johnny utters, glaring at the floor. “I’ll be ‘ere the whole time.”

It wasn’t fair that he was unable to be there with you—never before had the constraints from his job hit him full strength in the chest like this. If he can’t protect the ones he loves back on the home field, then what was the point of the Task Force in the first place? 

By the time you get home after taking the fastest route, you quickly gather everything from the back and shuffle inside, pulse still racing. You lock the door behind you and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. 

Johnny’s soft breath over the call was like a lullaby, right in your ear as if he was beside you in bed. Oh, you missed his soft snores more than anything. Your gaze goes glossy, but the tears are held back stubbornly. 

As if sensing your turmoil, your boyfriend speaks lowly. 

“Y’know, I bet the rest of the boys would really love it if we kept ‘em over for a drink and a bite when we all get back. I can whip up something quick on the grill and you can take a breather, eh?” He speaks so softly it almost makes the tears worse, heart palpitating. 

You wetly laugh and place a hand to your mouth, standing in the dark foyer with groceries on the floor and a primal fear slowly leaving you. The familiar scents of charcoal and birch wood from the Scots hair product are stuck into the very walls of this shared dwelling, along with the scuffs on the floor from play-wrestling during movies; a light that needed to be replaced due to Johnny accidentally running straight into it at two am. He had thought an intruder had broken in, but it was just a bird that had snuck in through an open window.

The signs of a well-lived and loved home. 

“But you wanted pollock,” you grumble with a hidden smile and burning ears, pushing the tip of your shoe into the front rug.

Johnny beams and goes to lie back down, putting a hand behind his head against the pillow.

“Well, now I’m makin’ burgers. Guess you’re just going to have to sit back and watch my fabulous arse from the porch, yeah, Dearie? Don’t burn a hole into them, now, they’re the only pair I’ve got, and I know how much you like ‘em.”

“Shut up.” 

“I’ll even wear that apron you got me—what was it you said it did,” the cheeky Scot smirks, all teeth and crinkled eyelids, and hears your complaints get louder as your mind flies away from what had happened almost immediately. “Made me look like I should be in a porno? Hell, if you were in it with me, I’d not complain ‘bout it. Steamin’ Jesus, I’d let you do horrible things to me, Dearie.”

From somewhere in the barracks a low groan echoes out and Johnny snaps his hand down to stifle his loud laughter as you bark at him. 

“MacTavish!” 

Great bouts of laughter leave everyone glaring from atop pillows and from over fingers stuffed into ears; some even get up and gather blankets, leaving the barracks room entirely.

In your foyer, your body blazes with heat like you’d been set on fire, a hand placed over your eyes and a treacherous grin on your mouth. 

“Keep your voice down, you absolute arsepiece!”

“Aye—! That’s what I’m tryin’ to tell ya!” 

“Johnny!”

—

The second time you called him was out of pure curiosity, only a few hours before your lover was scheduled to come home and cook for you and his Task Force. Around six o'clock. 

“When was our postbox all scratched up?” Your thumb runs over the black numbers of the sequence, blinking with wrinkled skin as you take a glance at the neighbors’ and frown. No one else's was like that. “I thought you said you compromised with the local kids and would give them money for sweets so they would stop messing with our stuff?” 

“Little fiends were sucking me dry!” Johnny huffs, “No way the devils would pass up more sugar and do something like that. What’s it look like, then? A few stray rocks manage to dent it?”

Your lips release a sigh and you pick up your mail with an annoyed grunt, closing and locking the cubby as you reply. “No way, it looks like someone took a knife to it.” Clicking your tongue, you shake your head. “God, things have just been going wrong lately.”

Shuffling his feet over the tarmac and hearing the plane engines die down behind him, Johnny takes a glance back. Price was standing at the top of the C17 arms crossed and head tilted—the Scot could imagine the raised eyebrow almost immediately. 

He grimaces and holds up a finger, walking a few more steps away as Gaz leaves the hull with his bags slung over his shoulders. 

“I can’t talk any longer, Bonnie, Price’ll wring me for not helpin’ unload the gear. He’s damn near skinnin’ me already.”

You chuckle, “Tell him I said ‘hello’ and not to damage the face.” 

“Oh, you’re a horror, you are, Dearie.” 

Quick declarations of love and see you soons were exchanged before the connection was cut, and your feet carried you back into the house. Your phone and the mail went to sit on the tiny hallways table, shoes tossed onto the plastic mat sitting on the floor with a small thump. 

Sighing, you rub over your eyes, thinking over if it was worth calling the post office or just trying to fix the scratches yourself. 

“I think we have some paint in the garage…” You trail off. 

Ultimately, you just pushed that to the back burner. Johnny was coming home. Your lips peeled into a large smile, and you’re rushing off to get into a nice outfit for the rest of Task Force who was coming a bit later than your boyfriend. Thoughts of finally being able to be picked up by your boyfriend's strong arms were all-consuming, being held into a broad chest and digging your nails to the dip of his spine. 

Just being able to be around the mohawked-man was a blessing that you’d never take for granted. 

You settled on a nice top and casual pants—you’d met the others before, so there was no need to go overboard. Smoothing your clothes down, you enter the living room and go to open the curtains, letting the light of the interior spread to the small lawn and the street. Humming under your breath, the vehicle outside doesn’t catch your attention immediately; the black metal is just another parked entity sitting still. 

When you do pause, your curtains half-opened, the delayed shock makes you lose precious time as you stare slack-jawed at one of the twin cars from yesterday at the parking lot. Your fingers clench into the fabric in a sudden moment of frozen shock. As if a mythical creature had just run past your field of view, the parting of your lips is instinctual before the widening of your eyes. 

A still second passes before you’re sprinting to the front door—locking it and snatching your phone. Heart pounding, you make a dash to the bedroom, dialing Johnny with fear-tight pupils. 

He had told you if there was ever an emergency to call him right away, he’d get there faster than any police officer; for the record, you believed that wholeheartedly. Johnny was more loyal than a dog in a pack, once someone raised the alarm the Sergeant was locked in. 

Rushing into the bedroom, you trip over the tossed covers but right yourself as the dialing tone sounds out, heavy breathing making your lungs hurt. You open the nightstand table and dig under a collection of books, hand meeting the smooth metal of an M9 pistol. 

Putting the phone on speaker, you throw it onto the mattress.

Legally, you shouldn’t even have this—while Johnny had been teaching you to shoot, you didn’t have a license for it yet. But he’d insisted on leaving you behind with something to defend yourself with.

The confused voice of your lover sounds over the open space. “Jesus, Bonnie, you miss me that much? It cannae ‘ave been more than ten minutes—”

“The car from yesterday is outside the house.” You throw the books to the floor and hear them make a clatter just as you pull out a box of ammunition. Taking out the gun’s magazine, you load bullets with a violently shaking hand. Some hit the ground with a metallic ping, but you pay little attention, just blinking back anxious tears and a harsh focus on the sounds of the front door handle being jimmied.

“I…what?” Johnny’s voice gets heavier, demanding with a snarl trapped in the back of his throat. 

Standing stationary in the doorway Base—about a twenty-minute drive from home, the man’s heart suddenly jumps in his breast. Did he hear you right? Behind him, Ghost slows to a stop at the now blocked opening, watching with narrowed eyes; a large rifle slung over his shoulder and a carry bag in his arm. Johnny’s shoulders wind tight, feet parted as he suddenly turns on his heels and takes off back the way he came in, the phone still at his ear where the Lieutenant knew you were on the call.

“What the fuck?!” Ghost’s skeletal head follows after and pointedly notices the Scots lack of care for how his bags hit the ground but keeps the pistol holstered at his thigh and the combat knife strapped to his upper shoulder. 

“Johnny?” He calls out, but only the wind answers him. “The hell are you off to?!” The gargantuan man sends a glance over to Price who was watching just as intently, lids narrowed. Gaz cleared his throat.

“....Shouldn’t we follow him? Sounds pretty serious.” 

Price sighs, taking a moment to watch Soap sprint to the main building and shove past other soldiers and staff. He grunts.

“Move light.” 

The phone call was filled with heavy breathing and hurried orders. 

Your boyfriend was running you down the basics of firing at a moving target as the sound of pounding at the front door became more hurried.

“It’s not like a stationary target—when someone’s runnin’ at ya, they're gonna be moving quick and you’re not going to be able to fire if you don’t mean it!” 

“Okay, okay,” you mutter with a shaky inhalation, loading the M9’s magazine and clicking off the safety. “What the hell do they want with me?” The whispered question is more for you than it is for anyone else, but the answer from the sprinting Scot startles you. 

At that exact moment, the pounding of a fist stops completely.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re gonna fire at the first bastard that comes down that hallway. We’ll ask the questions later.” You hear a car door opening and a yell from Johnny’s side, soon the clammer of grunting breaths an exclamation of ‘hurry the fuck up!’

“I—”

“If you need to, leave through the window and go to the neighbors. Take cover in the foliage and slip away to the back alley.” Johnny never spoke like this to you—clipped and deathly serious. But now that you think about it, as you stay frozen and barricaded in the bedroom, if he spoke any differently you’d probably break down. “Do you copy?”

This was Sergeant MacTavish, and damn him if anything came between that man and the people he cared about. 

He barks your name, “Do you copy?!” 

“Yeah,” the gun shakes in your grip, but nonetheless you hold it at your hip and turn your eyes to the window. It would be easier to leave, you think. You’re not trained for this! “I–I think I’m going to—”

The front door’s window is broken with a shattering of glass. You rush to the phone and turn off the speaker, afraid that the sound would immediately tell these people where you were. Loud shouts flow into the foyer and spread like venom under the crack of the thin barrier separating you and the intruders. 

“Spread out and find her!”

“Yes, Sir!” 

Sir? You ask, eyes snapping this way and that as Johnny is dead silent on the other side. You think you hear the slam of a foot to the pedal, but you can’t be sure. Fuck, there was so much going on, you didn’t know what to do.

“Screw this, I’m going out the fucking window.” You gasp out, lungs tight and skin sweaty, you turn on the safety on the gun and stuff it into your belt. 

One-handed, you unlatch the lock and strain your ears, hearing feet getting closer. Grunting, you shove the heavy frame up and try to stop the ringing in your ears. Whoever these people in your house were—they were professionals. They had patience; studied your intellect with the trick in the parking lot and followed you home so they could mark your postbox number as a reminder of your address. What the hell was happening? 

Just as you’re about to make the small drop into the flower bed, a creak echoes from behind the bedroom door. You freeze in place, one foot dangling into the backyard. 

Breathing slowly, your eyes lock to the deep shadow that spreads like two distorted poles as the large feet face the very place you’d holed up. As delicately as you’re able with an award-setting tremor in your gut, you place the phone down onto the window sill; Johnny’s loud and worried voice dims as all attention moves to self-preservation. You’re just about to reach for your gun when the door busts off its hinges. 

Starling, and before your hands can find purchase, you’re tumbling backward—out of the house entirely with a stifled shout of alarm. Slamming to the ground and crushing flowers in the process, you have no time to think about the pain going up your spine or at the base of your skull before you’re scrambling for the M9. 

Just as someone peeks out from the window, face covered and holding an assault rifle, you’re firing three shots in rapid succession as you don’t even remember flicking off the safety. 

Two shots miss entirely, but on the last and final press of the trigger, as your arms catch the recoil, it connects. 

A comment is cut short as blood explodes in a great wave of velocity, coating the house upwards almost to the shingled roof. The body slumps, weight bringing it down to hang limp over the frame.

Wide-eyed, you still hold the shaking gun in the air, muzzle smoking, breathing fast through your mouth. Had you just…

Your stomach bunched, acid traveling up your throat to pool under your tongue. Perhaps you would have thrown up at that moment, the setting reality that you’d just shot someone in the head like an anvil in your pounding skull. But the barking voices from inside the house snap you back. 

Gasping down the breaths you realized you hadn’t been taking, your wobbly feet dart to shove you up like a newborn deer as sprinting bodies close in on the porch’s sliding door. God, you could only imagine what Johnny was thinking. 

Bolting out of your backyard fence, you remember your lover’s orders and run as fast as you’re able to the neighbor's open yard, using the darkening sky to help cover you. Cursing under your breath and thinking over all of the ways this should have already gone wrong, you wipe at the tears cascading down your cheeks. 

Don’t think about it—just get away.

It wasn’t long before you were down the alleyway, feet weak and lungs burning. There was a stickiness to the back of your scalp, blood, undoubtedly, from an injury caused by the fall.

It’s a damn miracle I didn’t break anything. 

What would you have done then? Just let those people take or kill you? You shiver at the idea and force yourself to go faster. Darting around a corner, your feet skid to a quick halt. 

The barrel of a gun was pointed directly at your face. 

“Had a feeling you’d be slippery.” It was the voice of the man from the parking lot—the man with the blue cap. Your face jerks to an imitation of confined horror and unease at the same eyes boring into you. He was dressed in gear like the rest of the men now exiting your house to hunt you down. The stranger shifts his feet and you flinch. “Drop the gun, Sweetheart.” 

“Who the fuck are you?” You find your voice, hissing out. The pistol clatters to the floor as it slips from your grip and you hate how you flinch at the sound. 

“Your boyfriend and his buddies are hard to track down.” Blue Cap huffs, and the tall stature of the man makes you incredibly nervous. Backing up a step instinctually, he follows and smirks. “But I figured the best way to meet him was to find his little bird first—he’d come right to me. Cliche, I know, but you can’t fault me. Works every time.” 

What did this guy want with your Johnny? Gritting your teeth, your fingers shake at your sides, hips tense and ready to run.

“He’ll kill you.” You level, not keen to show this man how disgusting you felt being near him. 

He shuffles up next to you, grabbing the meat of your arm. Trying to jerk away, the barrel of his weapon is shoved into your ribs; gasping, your body goes rigid.

If your heart goes any faster, it’ll break.

“Not if I threaten to kill you first.” Forcing you forward, you glare and feel the urge to spit in the man’s face. “C’mon, hun.”

“Don’t fucking call me that, freak.” 

“Ooo…fangs. Can’t be surprised, you did shoot one of my men, after all. Not a bad trigger finger, but you do need decent work on your accuracy if you wanna make anything out of it.” Your eyebrows pull in as you’re corralled back out of the alleyway, barrel bruising your skin and blood dripping down your neck. The man’s grip hurts as a strangled whimper falls from your bitten lips. 

Feet scraping over concrete, you’re brought out into the street as neighbors peak out of windows with drawn curtains; phones to their faces. Did these intruders not care about the police? If anything, that made you sweat more. 

“Ride’s waiting.” 

“I’m not getting into that.” Grunting, your eyes are stuck on the black void of the car parked in the street. A menagerie of other armed men stands all over. “Hell no—you can just shoot me now if that’s the case.”

“Don’t tempt me, I can still go after the Sergeant’s dear old mom,” your lungs chill as the man chuckles to himself, looking down at you through dark lashes. “He has a cousin, too, am I right?” 

Rageful tears spark behind your lids as you blink. 

No way it was going to go like this. Where’s Johnny? 

The gun was taken from your ribs as you’re shoved forward. 

“Get in. Now. We’re already behind schedule.” You stare into the interior and clench your fists, lips quivering but jaw clenched. Your Lover’s voice comes to you, sure of himself and laced with stubbornness. 

If you’re ever in trouble, you wait for me, Dearie. I’ll be there ‘fore you know it, ready to defend your honor like the knight in shinin’ armor I am, eh? Why are you laughing…?

Turning back around with every ounce of courage you can muster, you splay your feet and cross your arms.

“No.” The gun is raised to your head, and you want to flinch back in terror but restrain yourself. 

“Get in.” 

“No.” How your voice wasn’t breaking was a question in and of itself, but Johnny had always said you were stubborn like him. Best time to prove him right was with a barrel to your face, apparently.

The stranger’s eyes light with anger, hands clenching over the body of the weapon as the rest of his men stare on in shock. A growl meets air.

“I’m not asking for a third time, Sweetheart—” One loud boom later and you’re ducking down with your hands over your head, ears ringing and body unsteady; a great weight hits the ground right next to you.

The sound of gunfire rattles the world all around the once quiet street, and you think that you and your Lover will have to move after this. No way the neighbors could let all this slide. Looking up, your eyes jump from the corpse spasming near you to the running men, chaos breeding in the lines between shouts and dropping bodies. 

A hand latches into your waist, and you’re being lifted into strong arms moments later. Squealing, your head snaps to the size and meets cerulean blue inlaid in a strong brow line. 

“I’ve got ya.” Your body loses all tension at the accent that you would know anywhere, even in death, a strong grip picking you up and keeping you close to his broad chest. 

Johnny carries you away in the midst of battle as the rest of the 141 get involved, making quick work of the remaining men. Breathing in his scent, you force your face under his chin, feeling the stubble scrape as your fingers dig into flesh. 

He’s here. He’s—he’s right here.

“Don’t worry, Dearie, I’m right here. It’s nearly over, now.” You try to bring him closer as he takes cover behind a wall, pressing his shoulders against the grating stone as he shields you closer to him. Sliding down to the ground.

His eyes snap back and forth, heart rapid. God, he was nearly too late. Johnny presses his nose into your hair as he breathes deeply, watching bodies fall and feeling you shake. Feeling you shiver; now finally able to let everything sink in. 

“Shh,” the Scot mutters, pressing you closer as you whisper his name in a hoarse breath. “You’re alright. I’m ‘ere, Bonnie, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” His hands filter over your skin, checking for injuries and feeling over growing bumps from under-the-skin abrasions.

His teeth clench together in hate, hotheadedness taking over for a moment as part of him wants to rush out and pick a few of these bastards off himself. But it’s just not that simple. 

Looking out into the street with serious eyes, the radio attached to his vest sounds off as the last of the firefight ends almost as quickly as it began. 

“Clear.” It was Price. “How is she?” 

Johnny sighs, looking down at you in his hold as he whispers comforting words in quick succession.

“Shaken, but alright…” The reply is muttered as you sniffle, your fingers going to wipe away tears. “She’s—she’s alright.”

Johnny beats you to it as he tries to calm down, large digits tilting your head to the side and studying intently as he swipes them away with a firm thumb and a careful frown. 

“Johnny—” Your eyes stay locked on him as the Scot gets rid of any trace of fear or sadness, calluses burning your skin just as they always did. His gaze flickers to you; lips pulling tight. None of you choose to move, too content with being this close to one another and safe, even if the situation was serious. “I…”

You trail, not even knowing what to say as the wetness of your eyes blurs your vision, body hot, and the back of your skull aching. Your hands go to cup his cheeks. It’s all the words he needs. 

Eyes soft, the Sergeant attempts a weak and worried smile. “I’m so proud of you, Dearie, y’know that? So damn proud.” Your lips quirk, a strained laugh echoing out. A finger pokes the side of your nose. “Hey, I’m serious now. Stop your foolin'.” 

Johnny’s fingers run deep circles into your temples as you trace the lines of his cheeks. 

“Shut up.” You huff, straining against a wide smile. It was easy to push all of this behind you when you were looking at him. He made everything better.

“Hm,” He moves forward and presses his lips to your forehead, quickly going to lay kisses all over your face until giggles spill out from the alleyway to the waiting three. 

Gaz smiles to himself, Price grunts lightly, and Ghost gazes off. 

“I’ll just have to prove to my Bonnie Little Lady that she’s a prime piece of work, then, eh? Smarter; more quick than a fuckin’ recon team,” he leans close and you have to try and shove him away playfully when he starts to squish you against him. Your laughter grows as his scratchy chin nuzzles your neck. “And don’t mind me sayin’ now, but a proper fine pair of tits and arse to go along with the brains of ya, Dearie.”

“MacTavish!” you squeal, “I should call your mother up and explain how you speak to me—that’s vulgar! I know for a fact she didn’t teach you that.”

“Teach me? Oh, now, then, no one could teach me a thing when you’re around. Cannae think a bit; better off talkin’ to a pile of stone.” You punch his solid chest and laugh so hard your face hurts, breath fanning against his neck as his roaming praise continues as if his mind was a bag of water punctured by a knife. “I’m always thinkin’ ‘bout you, my Little Bonnie.” 

The last sentence is quietly muttered into your temple, a kiss pressed tight. He pulls back slightly and feels at the dried blood on your locks, fingers separating to find the scalp. Johnny’s chest rattles in a sigh, hand shaking slightly when he sees it. 

He’d also seen the body on the window sill, though he knows not to mention it.

Christ, you’d had to kill someone. 

The prospect of taking a life was easy to the Scot—some days he felt like he had been born and bred to do just that. It became simple. Elementary. Like his mother could memorize a recipe, he could memorize the position of arteries; what shot to take at that instant, and which to wait on based only on past missions that resonated like past lives.

But for you…

Oh, it was never supposed to happen to you.

“Are you alright?” Johnny breaths, humor gone and left with guilt. 

He feels your lips on his raging pulse and lets his eyes close, content to feel you move against him as your head remains in his neck. Shifting his body into a more comfortable position, he cages you in protectively. Never again would he allow this to happen.

“I shot someone.” The man’s lips quivered, heart hurting at the blatant shock in your voice. It hadn’t hit you yet, and, hell, Johnny still remembered his first kill like it was yesterday. It wouldn’t be good when all this calmed down. He’d thrown up for two days straight, himself.

“Aye.” He breathes.

“His blood’s all over the house.”

“It is.”

“Is…is that,” you’re shivering, so he massages your spine soothingly until you find the words. “Is that a good thing?” 

He should say no, tell you that the situation that you’d been put in was never supposed to happen and it was just an unfortunate reality. Death wasn’t a good thing, per se. But the man had broken into your shared home—busted down the bedroom door with the intent of using you as a bargaining chip to get to him. So, to the Scot, the answer is clear.

No one messed with his family and lived.

“Yes.” Taking down the air of a dusty alleyway as sirens wail a street over, you weren't surprised that your boyfriend had managed to get to your home far faster than the police could. He said he always would, didn’t he? 

The bills for the speeding tickets and the running of red lights were going to be atrocious.

“Okay.” Your answer is muttered as you peel back, pressing a kiss to the corner of Johnny’s lips. You believed him. Always would. “Thank you.” 

“Don’t thank me.” His bright teeth show off a smile as your mirror. He kisses you heavily on the lips. Whispers against your lips, a promise. A vow. “As long as you put up with me, I’ll always keep you safe.”

“Soap,” Price yells, snapping the two of you out of it. “Get on with it!” 

The Scot raises a shocked brow and smirks down at you as you tilt your head and listen in happy confusion. 

“Y’know, those shots weren't half bad back there. ‘Specially after takin’ a tumble into the flowers.” Your expression freezes in denial as you’re lifted bridal style into the air. Speaking over the calls of police and firemen as they come to the scene, your voice monotones as your legs swing.

“...I missed two out of the three, you dork. That’s failing.” Johnny gapes in mock surprise and you refrain from snorting at the boyish glint in his eyes.

“Jesus, is it really? Hell, you’ll be comin’ for my job in no time, won’t ya? That’s one better than me!” 

You kiss him and feel the grunt through your lips.

TAGS ||

@blueoorchid, @jxvipike, @revrse, @shuttlelauncher81, @bruhhvv, @kittiowolf210, @aerangi, @spikespiegell, @ghost-with-a-teacup, @1234ilikecowsthanyoumore, @uberraschungg, @neelehksttr, @shoe1412,@jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet​, @pukbadger, @omeganixtra, @nanialis, @gills-lounge, @voidinfernal, @sukunas-left-nut-sack, @untoldshortsofthefandoms, @batmanunicorns523, @icepancakes, @copiasratscheese, @besas-stuff, @marytvirgin, @misfne, @halfmoth-halfman, @lothiriel9, @anna-banana27, @jade-jax, @cl0wncxre, @emerald-valkyrie, @michirulol, @330bpm-whiplash, @lora21, @bespectacledhuman, @wolfyland07, @dilfsaremyfavourite, @astronaunt2009, @shmaptin, @levietc, @kk19pls, @semieitabby, @thriving-n-jiving, @cringe-kats, @n1choles, @gaychaosgremlin, @johnpricesprincess, @haleypearce,

[smuthospital]

⭐️Degrees of lewdly: Eden⭐️

Premise: You're a spooky place youtube explorer, and you get lost in a big scary forest! Eden voorhees lol. Reader is fem. Enjoy!

Art by Minagami

Re-upload because tumblr took it down last time.

Content Warning: Non-con, kidnapping, tummy bulge, blood, Eden is Jason, Voorhees

Miners DNI

You've never really gone hiking before and it's proven itself to be a lot more difficult than you originally thought it would be. You like to explore places you've never been, spooky places. more for the thrill. you started filming it and posting your videos on youtube. You usually take some friends along, but all of your friends decided to be little babies this time since the place you're exploring is extra creepy this time. It's a large forest 20 miles away from your city. You borrowed your mom's car to get here. you always tell them you're at a friend's house because they'd kill you if they ever found out you're putting yourself in possibly harmful situations. This forest is known for creepy sightings, disappearances, ghosts, and lots of other things your viewers would love to watch. You've been to abandoned hospitals, cemeteries, tunnels, all that good stuff. You don't think you'll actually see anything, but you brought a can of pepper spray just in case.

The wind howls, making the trees dance above you. The shapes that were once branches in the day have turned into long gangly fingers that desperately reach for you and the bushes now house entities with red eyes and fangs that you imagine want to tear you to pieces! "Wow, guys. This might just be the scariest one yet, haha. There's probably some sort of scp in here with me haha!" You try to keep yourself company by talking to your soon-to-be viewers when you post this, but it's really just to keep you calm.

"I'm a bit lost. The trail kinda disappeared somewhere around here, I think. there's just so much long grass and it's more of a footpath than an actual trail." you complain as you try to spot any familiar landmarks. It's almost impossible. It might be easier in the day for sure, but the night masks everything. You step over decayed logs and large roots, feeling worry set in. What if you're really lost!? Your thoughts come to an abrupt stop when you hear a strange sound not too far from where you're standing. Your blood freezes as you feel a cold sweat coming on. Maybe...maybe it's a person? And maybe they can help you?..or..a monster!? No, (Y/n), this is no time to be silly! That could be a person willing to help you before you get yourself completely lost!

Little did you know you were already a mile deep, walking in the wrong direction.

“I heard a sound. It could be someone who could help me get back on track.” You whisper. You turn off your video camera's flash light and carefully make your way to where you heard the sound, being careful not to step on anything that could alert whatever it is of your presence. You don’t want to startle it, just in case it's an animal willing to protect its territory from invaders like yourself. The sound came from below you. There's a rocky slope leading down to a river. You get down on your knees and peer between the long grass. You can't make out much in the dim moonlight... until you spot a giant of a man dragging a sack through the shallow water. His size alone sends shivers down your spine. Even from where you're crouching, you could tell he would dwarf you the way a cat would to a mouse. You examine him a bit more.The sack is stained in a dark colour that is seeping through the fabric and into the water. You don't dare move a muscle or even breathe. You can't believe your eyes. This can't be real. Are you in a horror movie?

You make sure he disappears behind the tree line with the mysterious sack before letting out a breath. You didn't want to accidentally alert him of your presence in any shape or form. He was probably just a hunter. Yeah, he could have helped you, but he also could have added you to the wet sack and you were not risking that.

You stand up and turn around, ready to get as far away from here as possible, only to bump your nose into a tree. The collision causes you to drop your camera. That's strange. You don't remember walking around a tree to look over the cliff. You rub your nose in annoyance. Wait a minute... This tree didn't have rough bark like the rest of them...Your brain blanks out. You've been in denial this entire time, your brain working extra hard to rationalize what's happening. Before you is a large torso. You can't even see their shoulders from how close you're standing, just a wide, firm chest. You crane your neck up and it takes you a good three seconds before your brain registers that you're looking at the man from before..and he's wearing a mask!

He looks down at you with a focused gaze. You let out a short scream and try to run away, but being within arm's reach of the giant makes it too easy for him to simply reach out and grab the back of your top. He lifts you off your feet with one arm and brings you to his eye level. He cocks his head to the side, observing you slowly. He looks down at the camera you dropped and places his large boot on it, pressing down and crushing it. You start to hyperventilate. He's gonna chop you up and wear your skin, he's gonna keep you in a dark hole and shout "It rubs the lotion on its skin or else it gets the hose again!" You thrash in his iron grip, pushing at his large hand and sobbing untellable pleas for mercy, but your begging falls on deaf ears. "I-I'm sorry. I-I'll leave, I promise! Please let me go! I-I didn't mean to bother you, I'm sorry!" You cry. Your little struggle seems to have made your shirt ride up a bit, showcasing your supple flesh to his thirsty eyes. His eyes laser focus on your bare skin.

To your confusion, his hand reaches to caress your skin, feeling the smooth texture before slowly moving up. You wiggle more, scared of where this is going. His hand soon finds your breast and cups it before giving it a squeeze. He shudders. His breathing becomes heavier as he continues to mess with your body, his thumb rolling over your nipple. All you can do is whimper and wiggle in his hold. his hand begins sliding down and you scream. You suddenly remember you brought a can of pepper spray, whipping it out of your back pocket and pointing it at his face. Then as you were about to press down and unleash the fire juice, it was gone. In his hand that was previously molesting you lies the remains of your poor pepper spray, crushed and bubbling pathetically. He was so fast you hadn't even realized he snatched it. You just stare at him in horror. To your surprise, he's not even mad, too preoccupied with the need to explore your privates. You hold his wrist and look into his eyes. He looks back into yours as if telling you to stop. You hesitantly let go, and he nods as if to tell you that you've made the right decision. His hand cups your pussy through your jeans, pressing in a bit at the entrance. He seems eager.

He lifts you higher and uncomfortably sets you on his shoulder, his hand on your ass to keep you in place. You don't even bother struggling. You'll wait for an opportunity. If this man wanted you dead, you'd be dead. You don't want to provoke him. From your spot on his shoulder, You notice that he's got a hunting rifle strapped to his back along with a machete. He has an assortment of things attached to his hips among them being a hunting knife and bullet pocket. You shiver. One more off-putting thing that's just about forcing bile up your throat is that he's also covered in a dark wet liquid. You haven't noticed till now, but you haven't been breathing so his smell has now come to your attention. He smells strongly of iron. To that, you're not very surprised.

He starts marching down the hill you were previously watching him from. You have no idea how you saw him disappear through the treeline and he still managed to sneak up on you. He picks up the large stained sack where he left it in favor of locating his little spying mouse. It smells awful, the meaty smell assaulting your senses every second. It's been 15 minutes and an opportunity to escape has not shown itself. This is it. This is how you die. Your body will never be found. Maybe in a few years in a shallow grave by some hiker if you're lucky. This inhuman mass of muscle is going to cut you up and eat you. Maybe even skip cutting you up. He could probably eat you whole as pre-workout. He lifts his leg to step over a large log, his grip on your ass slightly loosening just enough for you to catch him off guard and slip off his shoulder. You grunt as you fall into the dirt and leaves behind him. You scramble up before the giant can scoop you up. You run in a random direction. You just needed to get away from him, getting out of the forest was a problem for later. You didn't even think about how fast he'd be. How could someone be so big and fast!? He took off after you and suddenly, he was on your ass. You've never felt such a primal fear as he chased you like a hungry animal.

A large hand grabs your shoulder and rips you backwards. You fall on your back and stare up at the man now on his knees in front of you, his body completely casting a shadow before yours. He gets down on his hands, caging you too the ground, his body inches above yours. You stare into the holes of his mask and into his rabid eyes. He leans in by your neck. You stop breathing once again, you think your heart stopped. You feel something large and hard pressing roughly into your crotch. You hear him take a deep breath and smell you..."Smells nice." His voice is deep and rough, but it sounds like he rarely uses it. You scream and begin to cry again, not being able to take it anymore. You fight him with all your might. He grabs your wrists with one hand. You hear him chuckle a bit before his hand comes up to cup your check. He suddenly squeezes it and twists your face around to get a better look at your features. He grinds his hips against yours, teasing you of what's to come. He roughly releases your face, before standing to his full height and dragging you up with him. He tosses you back over his shoulder, this time with an almost bone-crushing grip. “Name.” His tone is commanding. When you fail to answer right away, his fingers press into the area on your crotch. Threatening to rip right through. “(Y/n)! My name is (Y/n)!” He hums in response.

Hot tears run down your cheeks as he walks back over to where he left his murder mystery sack. He navigates through the forest as he knows it like the back of his hand until he comes upon a clearing where his home stands. A lonely wooden cabin. He drops the gooey meat bag on the ground. You cringe at the wet sound it makes on impact. You peer over at the sack to see a human hand flop out. Before you could react, he slams his hand over your mouth painfully. "Shut up." He waits for you to nod before removing his hand. He opens his front door and steps inside. It smells musty, like old wood and man smell. Not bad, but not amazing either. He walks up his stairs and sets you on a very large bed. You take a deep breath in, your stomach sore from being jabbed by his shoulder for the entirety of the long walk.

He doesn't let you get comfortable though. His hands are on you in an instant, grabbing your clothes and ripping them to shreds like tissue paper, you're naked before you could even hold any of your clothes together. Hungry eyes leer over you through his mask. You feel his hot breath fan you through the bottom of his mask. "S-stop it, please! Don't hurt me!" You beg. As if to mock your plea, his rough hand grips your plush thigh a little too close to your cunt and squeezes it tightly before shoving it against your chest, making room for himself between them.

He releases you for a moment, only to unzip his uncomfortably tight pants. You shut your eyes and look away, only to feel the soul-crushing weight of his cock slam against your lower stomach. You writhe underneath him, small sobs and hiccups coming from your mouth every few seconds. He pauses for a moment but ultimately decides to continue. You peer up between your wet palms and see him rubbing the tree trunk between his thighs while looking down at your pathetic form.

"W-wait! I-I'm not rea-" He grabs your thighs and forces you closer to him and lines his cock up with your entrance, he slides it up and down your folds, causing you to shudder. He doesn't care if you're ready or not. You shut your eyes as he presses forth. You scream in pain. It won't go in. You're too tight, he's too big and you're dry. The tip can't even get through. You whimper in pain. It burns. You need moisture. He lifts his mask a bit and you get a peek of his jaw. It's noticeably sharp and covered in stubble. You feel his saliva plap against your poor dry cunt before he puts his mask back into place. He tries to enter you again. You yelp. He gets a bit through before he can't anymore. He sighs. He was trying to be gentle. He didn't want to break you so quickly...

He grips your thighs tightly. You feel his nails dig in. You barely have time to register the pain before you feel like you're being ripped in two. He's forcing his way in. You immediately let out a scream and begin spazzing. He just continues until he reaches his base, more than snug against your insides. Drool leaks past the corner of your lip as you stare off into space. He breathes heavily and stares at the bulge he created in your lower stomach. He brushes his hand over it and watches as you whimper and twitch. He pulls his hips back and watches it disappear before ramming himself in again and seeing it jab through your insides. He chuckles.

You lay there, unable to do anything but feel what he's doing to you. You lift your arm and place it on his lower stomach, hoping to stop him that way. You feel his rock-hard abs through his shirt and push. "You're...adorable...fuck.. you're tight." He groans before he slams himself deep inside and you clench around him. He hisses and struggles to pull out halfway, your insides trying to pull him back in. He slams in again and presses himself as deeply as he can, firmly hugging your cervix with his cock. Your eyes cross as he thrusts in and out, keeping a proper pace. Moans spill from your lips along with jumbled-up words he can't make out, all of which sound like music to his ears.

He leans over you, forcing himself snugly against you again, his mask right next to your cheek. He groans as he feels you twitch around him. "Feel..so good... was worried you'd rip... you're only bleeding a little." You can hear the smug grin in his tone.

It feels so good. You're so ashamed, feeling good when you're being raped by a maniac. You clench your tear-filled eyes as he pounds into your aching cunt. The knot in your lower stomach bursts as you cum. He moans as you tighten around him. He stills for a second, just enjoying how you feel before he pounds into you like a feral beast. You're surprised your pelvis is holding up. He grips your waist tight and grunts as he empties his balls deep inside you. You can almost feel yourself getting pregnant. You feel too full. Your stomach bloats with cum. You feel hot and fuzzy. Your pussy is so very sore and your legs are numb. He pants above you. "I've been thinking of getting myself a little wife like you." He says as he slowly pulls his still throbbing cock out with a wet 'pop'. "You're a pretty little thing and you take my cock well. Be grateful I'm letting you live as my cock sleeve." He stands up, towering over your crumpled body once again. "My name is Eden. Your duties from now on are cooking, cleaning, mending my clothes and taking my seed. Do not make me repeat these orders. Object and I won't hesitate to remind you of your place. I was gentle this time." His giant cock is still dripping your juices. You can't stop looking at it. Ge takes notice and climbs over you before grabbing your head and forcing you close to his groin. "I see you love cock. Lick it clean then like a good wife. go on."

You look up at him and hesitate a bit too long. You see anger flash in his eyes and you quickly envelop his tip in your mouth. He groans as you lick your mixed juices off, going as deep as you can without choking. He moans and grabs the back of your head. He stares down at you with such intensity that you can feel him burning holes into you. You suddenly feel your throat being invaded and your nose pressing into his pubic hair, nose pressing into his crotch. He moves you back and forth, face fucking you. You struggle to breathe properly through your nose. You let out muffled whimpers and cries, sending vibrations through his cock. He grunts in pleasure before you feel a load of hot thick liquid being shot into your mouth and down your throat. You're so tired. He slowly pulls his cock back and laughs at your exhausted state. Your head flops back onto the bed, your jaw and lips so incredibly sore and raw feeling. "Good girl." He says before your sight fades to black. You explored a bit too much.

[jayflrt]

𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝟕𝟖𝟔 19. attention seeker

welcome to the second act. warnings for this chapter include depictions of alcoholism and family issues

'BEING AN INFLUENCER WAS A REAL JOB THAT REQUIRED A TREMENDOUS AMOUNT OF WORK.'

Yeah, right.

Shin Yuna heard phrases along those lines all the time. Whenever she watched other people's content, a good majority of the influencers would rant about how difficult their life was, or how stressful their workload was when it came to recording and editing.

Sure, it took some effort to edit and upload new content. Yuna allocated several hours a week to do so, but all she had to do was set up a livestream for the cash to start rolling in. Wear something skimpy. Bat her lashes at the camera. Pout a little. Play up the damsel in distress act. It was simply too easy.

princessval***: omg girl pls stop drinking 😭 onlyyuna03: she's so messy i love her luvyuna***: you're back already? i thought you were taking a break onlyyuna03: @luvyuna*** you must be new LOL she always does this

But this—the flood of comments that poisoned her screen—was the curse of putting herself on the internet.

It wasn't like this during her first year of streaming. Back in high school, Yuna's parents were fighting every day, and since she didn't have any friends to talk to, she turned to the internet. She would stay up all night in random Discord servers, chatting with strangers and confiding in them about her family issues.

Naturally, these chats turned into voice calls, which later turned into video calls. Initiated by her, of course. No one else had their cameras on, though; Yuna quickly grew comfortable being in the spotlight, basking in the glow of praise from strangers. Comments like 'you're so gorgeous' and 'you should be a model' made her forget all about her family issues for a split second. Like that, it became like a drug for her.

Yuna, who was starved of attention, relished in the validation she got from online strangers. Strangers who wouldn't even share any personal information about themselves, going by fake names and hiding how old they were.

Soon after, she made her own Discord server, inviting everyone who wanted to see her get in front of her camera and talk about her day. She knew how to play her angles well, acting as if she was everyone's girlfriend while using them to satisfy her need for attention. It was a classic marketing strategy: Yuna knew her asset was her beauty, so she used it to her advantage.

All she had to do was send a picture of herself or talk in a cute voice, and everyone would fawn over her in seconds. In a life where Yuna's own parents neglected her, she found people who cared. Maybe their intentions weren't in the right place, but they were present and ready to listen to whatever she had to say.

She got ambitious, deciding to start live-streaming to a wider audience. Yuna started on Twitch, playing various games like Overwatch and League of Legends. She didn't have to be very good as long as people liked her face and stayed for her reactions.

As she grew a following, she moved to YouTube and TikTok, doubling her follower count in only months. Before, she would be talking to an audience of around 20 people, but now she was racking in thousands as soon as she went live.

Of course, there came drama, too. And Yuna found it exhilarating.

If someone called her out on something, all she had to do was come up with some sob story about how she didn't deserve to hear that, and everyone would come with pitchforks to defend her. She was very calculative in that way, knowing exactly when and how to turn the tide if it wasn't in her favor.

For some reason, that never seemed to work with her parents.

"You're a disappointment," her father spat at her the day she showed him her Yale acceptance letter. She had sparkles in her eyes and a bright smile all day, only for her to feel completely crushed. She couldn't understand why; it was her father's dream for her to get into Yale, after all. "This is the only acceptance letter you've got, huh?"

Yuna hesitated. The competition for all of the Ivy League schools was rough this year; she had been getting rejections left and right, but she thought her family would be satisfied with Yale. After all, it was her father's alma mater.

"Yeah," she answered in a small voice. She looked down at her acrylic-damaged nails, neglected from years of biting the skin until they bled. "I thought you'd be happy with Yale."

"Happy?" Mr. Shin barked out a laugh. "You didn't actually get into Yale on your own, you know that, right?" He scoffed when Yuna gave him a confused look. Then, Mr. Shin slammed his phone against the dinner table, causing his wife and daughter to flinch. "Five hundred thousand. I paid five hundred thousand to get you in. Mr. Nakamura only paid two to get Kazuha in, but I had to pay five. That's how useless you are."

"Sunoo? You know my old boss's son?" he would provoke her for the rest of dinner. "He got in all by himself. You know Hyejin's son—Anton—he got into Yale and Brown on his own, too."

"You need to work hard, Yuna," Mrs. Shin said before stabbing at her salad. "Your dad could only get you in as an undeclared major. You need to get into pre-med on your own."

Tears prickled her eyes, but she stayed silent. Even her college acceptance was a fraud; she had done nothing out of her own hard work.

Except her skyrocketing career as an influencer.

The high of her fame only lasted a short while, though. During the summer before her freshman year of college, Yuna's parents discovered what she had been getting up to on the internet.

Shameful, they called it, as if Yuna was committing a crime.

Yuna's parents were surgeons, and rather good ones at that. They both got their undergraduate degrees at Stanford, and then their doctorates at Harvard. The two of them became neurosurgeons after their residency and board exams, and then transferred to Mercy Health where Mr. Shin became the Chair of Neurological Surgery, which set the bar a little high for Yuna.

She was never spectacular. She was always more interested in makeup and clothes instead of science and medicine. Yuna would've rather worked toward a career as a fashion designer, often dreaming about fashion shows she could design for. She knew she would make it far, too—even Donatella Versace told her backstage during Paris Fashion Week that she had an eye for fashion, and that she could go far.

The few times she visited your house, she remembered meeting your mom, a well-known fashion designer herself, and showing off her sketches. Yuna distinctly recalled her words of approval, and she had to bite her tongue whenever your mom would offer to take Yuna on a tour of her studio, only for her parents to turn down the offer.

Her parents were so adamant about Yuna following their path to becoming a surgeon that they threw away all of her sketchbooks and colored pencils when she showed them her work. Even when she got the opportunity of a lifetime to be taken under Vivienne Westwood's wing, her parents crushed her dreams under their heels.

From a young age, she knew that hard work was only determined by her parents. Her true efforts were simply considered a waste of time.

Naturally, Yuna let out all her emotions when she live-streamed. It just so happened that her parents found out through the families of people who knew her. First, she would be grounded. When that wouldn't work, she would get all of her devices taken away. When she found a loophole around that, she would have to endure her father's rage.

Halfway through her first year at Yale, her parents disowned her.

She was on academic probation after her first semester. While she was trying to file a restraining order against someone who was stalking her (who claimed to be a fan), her grades managed to slip until she failed most of her classes. The worst part was, she had been expecting her parents to worry about the stalking incident, but they only cared about her GPA. Casting Yuna away was just protecting the Shin family's shiny status.

Everything was gone. Yuna was no longer part of the world you and Sunoo lived in. All her connections to the medical field, all her connections to the fashion industry—all out of her grasp. Still, maybe it was her flickering hope to somehow please her parents that kept her on the path to become a doctor. Not that it something she was genuinely interested in, but she knew it was the only way her parents would take her back.

Now she had to keep up her influencer career to support herself financially. There was no way she would be able to pay off tuition, even if Sunoo had generously paid the deposit for her small apartment. She had to keep up with bills, rent, and utilities all at once, and it was all too much for an eighteen-year-old to handle.

She got used to accepting help because of that. You helped foot some of her bills, Sunoo helped with tuition, Anton helped make sure she was eating, and the money she got from streaming and posting videos was enough to cover the rest of her expenses.

Even with an outlet to express her concerns to her fans, though, Yuna was struggling with barely making friends. You, Sunoo, and Anton were the only ones who lent a shoulder and an ear for her to dump all her pain and worries to. But she still had to hold them at arm's length. After all, all of their upper-crust families were in close contact with each other.

And then there was Lee Heeseung.

He was a new face in the socialite scene. No one had heard of him or his family before. Heeseung was probably Yuna's ideal type—handsome, intelligent, popular, and someone who hadn't been sucked into her world yet. Although he was alledgedly close to you and Park Sunghoon, no one else had any idea of what his family did.

Over the years, Yuna was terrified that she had built a reputation among the rich families that were in her circle. She could feel the disdain in their eyes when she was at social events, steering clear of every adult that looked as though they wanted to probe her for information about her college admissions.

Heeseung, however, was like a breath of fresh air. There was no judgment in his eyes when Yuna spoke to him, and that might have been the very moment she fell for him.

He was different. He didn't have any expectations of her nor did he feel uncomfortable when he found out she was a streamer. She liked that he came from a humble background, and he never judged her from where she came from. Even when Yuna confessed that she had been disowned, Heeseung never looked at her with pity in his eyes. He simply told her that he would be there if she ever needed him, and he left it at that.

She tried her best to get close to him, but the closer Yuna got, the more she saw under the surface—the more she realized she was heading toward heartbreak. It was clear as day that Heeseung was deeply in love with you, and it seemed as though he had no intention of considering any other woman. Even Yuna could tell he would give up everything in a heartbeat for your sake.

Yuna did her best to avoid conversations about Heeseung with you. She figured that if they never brought him up, then you wouldn't start to feel differently about him.

To her relief, you started dating Park Sunghoon.

Yuna used Heeseung's vulnerability to her advantage. As much as she liked him, he was a coward when it came to his own feelings; Heeseung could only bring himself to come clean about how he felt for you after you started dating another man. Of course, he was turned down—ignored, even. In your mind, you just wanted to keep up the fantasy of having a close childhood friend to the point where you had Heeseung bottle up everything he felt.

Yuna thought you were cruel back then, but she was even more so.

She knew that Heeseung couldn't do anything about his feelings no matter how much it ate at him, so Yuna pretended she wanted to listen to him go on and on about how miserable he was. It was all because of you, and, for a period of time, Yuna despised you for it.

Months rolled by, and Yuna found herself going over to Heeseung's dorm room nearly every day. They talked about anything and everything, and then the conversation would eventually shift to you. Yuna felt something chip at her heart every time he mentioned your name, but she braved through it all.

"Thanks for coming over," Heeseung murmured, running a hand through his already-messy hair. Yuna could smell the alcohol on his breath when she sat down next to him on the floor. Heeseung laughed. "One-month anniversary. Y/N always told me she found those stupid."

Yuna pressed her lips into a thin line. She remembered walking to class with you last week and hearing you gush about everything you bought Sunghoon for your one-month anniversary as a couple. She thought it was sweet back then, but hearing it come from Heeseung made Yuna feel sick.

"You don't have to thank me," she said, hugging her knees to her chest. "I just wanted to be here for you."

The first time she tried to kiss Heeseung was that night.

The first time Heeseung rejected her was right after he stopped her.

"I can't," he said at the time, drawing away from her. "I'm sorry, it's just—"

"You're not over Y/N," she finished for him with a twinge of bitterness.

He shook his head, saying nothing. Yuna felt a surge of misdirected anger.

Yuna knew from the moment she met you that people like you were the shiny gold coins that everyone wanted to have, and people like her were rusted-over pennies on the sidewalk to be stepped on and forgotten. She was a fool to think that Heeseung would see past that.

"I know that." Her tone was sharp as she got to her feet, and Heeseung followed suit right after. "But I suggest you get over her soon because it's not gonna happen."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what I said. Y/N would never go out with you. She already turned you down, anyway."

"Is that so?"

When Yuna turned around to look at Heeseung, his expression was like stone. Something ugly was twisting its way around her heart, squeezing out every semblance of affection she ever had for you.

"Yeah," she replied with a simpering smile, "because she's just too nice to choose the guy who broke her friend's heart."

"Broke—?"

"And," she said louder, cutting him off, "Sunghoon doesn't know, does he? Wouldn't he feel really betrayed if he found out?"

Heeseung kept his face impassive, but Yuna could tell he was seething. She cornered him quite well.

She kept that farce up for years. It was easy keeping Heeseung in line when you only had eyes for Sunghoon, and Heeseung was just so easily discouraged by Yuna's words. It was almost like he had no hope that you would take his word over hers, and that sent Yuna on some sort of power trip.

Her relationship with you was strange. Maybe it was at that moment when she realized that she was someone important to you, and that made her feel invincible somehow. She could do anything as long as you were on her side.

She liked drinking. Not because she particularly liked the taste of alcohol, but she loved the feeling of forgetting all her responsibilities. Every rotten memory of her parents would bury itself under the sand for the time being, and all she could feel was adrenaline pumping through her blood.

But she was never exactly in control. It only took a year to slip up in front of her friend group (thankfully when you weren't around), so she begged Karina, Yeonjun, and Giselle to keep quiet about her crush on Heeseung. They weren't even extremely close at the time, but they knew better than to tread on a situation between you and Sunghoon, whose parents were far more influential than theirs.

"It's only gonna cause more problems if she finds out," Yuna told them through choked sobs. "If Y/N finds out, things will never be the same between us, and Sunghoon doesn't even know that Heeseung has feelings for Y/N." As Giselle stroked her hair gently, Yuna said, "I can get over him on my own. Just please keep this from Y/N."

Karina and Yeonjun exchanged nervous looks before they reluctantly agreed. She had always been wary about Karina. Giselle was overly-empathetic to her situation, Yeonjun was a good listener because he thrived off of drama, but Karina had always seemed more skeptical.

And, as Heeseung knew, Yuna always found a way to silence people who she felt she couldn't trust, so she played dumb when she outed Karina on live.

It was a stupid move on her part, to be fair. Yuna deeply regretted it as soon as she realized what she said. Karina iced her out for months, and everyone else was on the colder side—even Sunoo, who had been her close friend for so long. She always felt strangely jealous of Sunoo, who got the approval of her father when she couldn't, but seeing him give her the cold shoulder nearly sent her over the edge.

"I apologized so many times!" she cried to him. Sunoo kept his guard up, but he always heard her out when she needed him. "I just don't know what else to do. I keep fucking up."

Sunoo frowned. "Do you even feel bad about what you did, or do you feel bad because you were caught?"

Yuna didn't respond to his question, but she knew exactly what the answer was. Was she pathetic? Probably.

She ruined everything. She always ruined everything.

Maybe it was just easier that way. Yuna knew that if she tried her best to please everyone, it would still never be enough. Hurting them before she cared too much was just a defense mechanism, as selfish as it sounded. If you chopped down the tree before it grew too tall, it wouldn't hinder the plants under its shade from growing.

The thing was, Yuna received blow after blow all her life without any acts of mercy. She was struck over and over again, and no one delivered the final coup de grâce.

Naturally, Karina came around and forgave her. Another missed blow. It was like Yuna was drunk off the drama itself because if she kept acting out and causing all these problems, then she could keep everyone's attention on her.

And then she wouldn't have to be so alone.

But the cycle went on and on, so when Yuna found herself texting Jay and Sunghoon in her drunken stupor, she hardly considered the consequences when she mentioned the long-kept secret of Heeseung's first love. You trusted her to keep your conversation with Jay about breaking up with Sunghoon to herself, but she violated that as soon as she could, too. She wasn't sure what it was, but whenever she looked in the mirror, all she saw was that she was as bad as her parents.

Yuna was fated to fall into the same destructive cycle over and over again until it stabbed her in the back for good. Until she bled out, though, everything was fair game.

prev | masterlist | next

SUMMARY ▸ private investigator jay park just wants to complete his mission quietly and move on with his life. you, his new assignment who keeps consuming his thoughts, don't make that very easy for him.

TAG LIST ▸ @zdgx1 @smouches @heesdazed @teawithbucky @leep0ems @peachpie4you @niniissus @kgneptun @jaeyunluvr @hooniesuniverse @zerasari @enhalov @sophiko22 @iselltulips @hoondiors @baekhyunstruly @jays-property @woninluv @heerinnie @fakeuwus @yizhoutv @en-happiness @theothernads @y4wnjunz @dammit-jjk @en-happiness @mari-oclock @enhypens-baby @soonyoungblr @jakeslvt @taetaenic @jebetwo @fairysungx @hsgwrld @shmooooo @ineedsomezzz @mrowwww @enha-stars @isawritesss @seongclb @lockburn-castle @alyssajavenss @enczen @calumsfringe @w3bqrl @luvyev @uhsakusa @luvnicho @wildflowermooon @navsnct

[alotofpockets]

Holiday break | Mary Earps x Reader

Where you enjoy a Barbados holiday with your wife

Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

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“Welcome back to another edition of Mazza’s hotel tours!” Mary says as she opens the hotel room door and urges her fans inside, and by her fans she means you holding the phone to upload the video to her TikTok later. 

“A lot of you wonder who films these hotel tour videos and today I would like you to meet the lovely videographer.” She takes the phone from your hands and turns the camera around. “It’s my lovely wife!” You wave at the camera. “Alright love, give that back now please. The people aren’t here to see me, they are here for the legendary Mazza.” The camera captures the way you lovingly look at your wife before she hands you back the phone. 

“And now onto the tour! Welcome to our beautiful room in Barbados.” You follow Mary around as she shows off your hotel room, in each room she mentions something about the decor, and makes it show like she always does. Your wife was known for her TikTok’s and even on holidays the woman did not disappoint. 

On the balcony overlooking the beach Mary finished the video, “Thank you for coming along, and I am sure I will see you again soon!” 

Mary made quick work on editing the video, while she was laying in your arms. A couple minutes of editing and the video was posted. “Alright, do you want to go to the pool or the beach first?” She asked, turning in your arms so she could peck your lips a couple of times after her question. “Wanna go check out the beach first?” 

After a short walk you arrive on the white sand and see the turquoise water up close for the first time. “It’s so beautiful.” Mary smiles at you, “Yeah it is, just like you.” It didn’t matter how many years you had been married to the goalkeeper, she would never stop flirting with you. “Alright flirt, let’s find a spot and enjoy this holiday.”

It didn’t take long before Mary ran into the ocean and dived in instantly. “Baby, come on! It’s so nice.” Who were you to say no to her? You approached the water at a slower pace, but once your feet touched the water, you got to the same level of excitement of your wife. “I can’t believe this place is real.” 

Mary took hold of your hand and pulled you closer to her, “Well believe it baby, and it's our home for the next week.” You grabbed her face with both your hands and kissed her. “This holiday is going to be perfect.”

In her hotel tour video she had said they would see more of her soon, and when Mary saw you peacefully sunbathing on your towel, she had the perfect idea of what to do next. She grabbed her phone and an empty bottle before walking to the water's edge.

“I’ve got probably the worst idea of my life, so I am documenting this in case it will be my final TikTok ever. So, my wife is over there napping in the sun.” She zoomed in on you laying on the beach. “And I have this bottle that I just filled with water from the ocean. I think you all know where my head is at right now. Anyways, if you don’t hear from me again, this is proof that I deserve what’s coming to me.” Mary laughs at the camera before she turns the camera around and approaches you slowly.

The moment the cold water hit your back you shot up, “Oh my god that’s so cold!” You jump up to shake off the cold water and see Mary laughing with the camera on your face. “You’re dead, Earps.” You say before you start chasing after her. The video ends when you tackle your wife to the ground and the two of you roll onto the sand. Mary ended up posting it like that, with your permission of course. You made her think you were even, but you had already thought of your revenge plan, you just had to wait until you were at the pool. 

A plan that came into action the next morning. “Oh baby, I saw this fun trend where people put their phone down and then step over it in one location, and then again in a new location so it looks like they travelled through the phone. Here, let me show you some examples.” You grab your phone and open your saved TikTok’s to show your wife the trend.

Mary loved the trend and asked what you had in mind for the location. “So, I was thinking we start it here, like fully dressed and then we end it at the pool in our swimsuits.” Mary was on board and you set up the shot at the hotel. 

She stepped over the phone first, and you followed. Then you changed into your swimsuits and headed down to the pool. It was still quiet, so you had the pool to yourselves. You set up the phone so the background showed the pool and the beautiful surroundings. Mary jumped over first again and then turned around, waving for you to come too. You jump over and run to hug her, but instead of hugging her, you push her into the pool. “And that is how it’s done.” You say to the camera as you pick it up to walk over to the pool’s edge. 

“What do you have to say to the fans, baby?” You smirk wide at your girlfriend leaning up on the pool’s edge. “If you mess with your wife, she messed with you back?” You nod, “Yeah, remember that people!”

You set the phone away and join Mary in the pool. “How about no more pranks for the rest of the week?” Mary swims towards you, “Hmm, what’s the fun in that?” You roll your eyes, Mary knew you loved pranks just as much as she did.

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[pedropascallme]

Celebrity Crushes

Pairing: Damien Haas x gn!Reader

Summary: "He had never said it was for a video, though maybe at this point you should’ve been able to guess that being asked for a list of three top choices was for this series."

Warnings: Brief mention of being drunk but otherwise none :)

AN: Hi guys!! I wrote this in 20 minutes so it’s…rough around the edges….but you’ve been so sweet and patient with me while I get my shit together now that I’m back from school!! I have many many WIPs that I plan on publishing soon that will have much more substance than this, but I still hope this helps hold you over for another week or so <3

You delayed your own emergence from sleep. Your bed was comfortable, warmer than usual, maybe thanks to the open blinds that let sunlight dapple the room. It was so easy to fall back into the snug embrace of slumber as you stretched against your sheets. You rolled over, eyes still heavily lidded and blinking to avoid the light as you felt around for your phone on the nightstand.

You yawned, stretching again; you let your back arch off the bed, feet poking out from beneath your blanket as you let your ankles crack—a quiet, congenial noise, and an even more satisfying feeling.

There were several messages waiting for you when you unlocked your phone.

Ang: UM??

Ang: New games vid????

Ang: 😵‍💫😵‍💫

You: What?

Ang: Dude🫠

You: What??

You: Isn’t it a Shayne guesses

You: I just woke up

Ang: Hold on

They were not the messages you’d been anticipating on a peaceful morning off from work. Angela’s texts woke you up immediately, her words burying themselves in your head as adrenaline took hold, muscles tensing, and you felt something pull at your stomach.

Had someone said something? Had you said something? Had you been somewhere you weren’t meant to be? Did it even involve you? Was she simply acknowledging something fucked up or funny that you had played no part in?

You held your phone in a vice grip, white-knuckling it and waiting to hear how exactly the new upload pertained to you—if it pertained to you—and whether you’d still have a job or any friends by the end of the day.

You felt a soft buzz on your fingers and snapped your attention to the screen, hoping to see Angela’s name.

Court: Was the new video planned or…

You: What is happening

You: Angela texted me too

You: I literally just woke up

Court: omg🥹

You felt hot. Not in the cozy way you had been when you woke up, but in a burnt cheeks and stomachache way. This was not something you had ever woken up to before, it was not at all routine, and you worried that your time at Smosh was up based solely on the manner in which your friends were texting you.

Another buzz. Kiana this time.

Kiana: I told Spencer not to keep it in the final cut

Kiana: But it’s really cute actually

You wanted to throw up. Shakily leaning back in bed, you tried to type out a response to Kiana that would help you wrap your mind around what exactly it was that you should be worried about.

Another buzz alerted you to Angela’s late reply, and you abandoned the message you had been drafting for Kiana.

Ang: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vzUs87BMpsc

Ang: 26 minute mark & then watch to the end

Ang: 🥴🥴🫶🏻

You had been right. It was another installment of Shayne Guesses, but you had no recollection of sending in a formal submission of…

“Can I identify someone, based on their top three celebrity crushes?”

Your heart jumped to your throat.

If this was going where you thought it was, you’d send in your letter of resignation by tonight.

You found the timestamp Angela had sent you, and immediately grimaced, folding your body into itself. You wiped a hand over your face, as if rubbing your eyes hard enough would make this all go away, leaving you to wake up fresh and unabashed.

“Ok—ok, I can work with this,” Shayne’s eyes darted over the screen, shouting a laugh when he took in the options given to him. “So Pedro Pascal—expected—Cillian Murphy, and he looks younger there. Is that what he looks like now? No…”

“No, that’s from like, 2000-something,” Spencer responded off camera, “I did not choose that picture.”

“Ok, 2000s Cillian Murphy, Pedro Pascal, and Damien Haas.” Shayne paused to stifle a chuckle. “This is the second time you’ve broken your own rule!” He stared pointedly at Spencer.

“Bro, that’s Shez from Fire Emblem!” Spencer argued, still out of frame, and Shayne bit the inside of his cheek.

“I mean,” Shayne looked at the list of names in front of him, “I feel like, you know, maybe it’s not…maybe it isn’t super obvious to people watching, but I think it’s a pretty easy guess for anybody in the office.”

“So what’s your answer?” Spencer asked.

“Oh, come on, like you need to ask,” Shayne crossed his arms before triumphantly declaring your name. “Final answer, look—” He clicked to the next page, and there was your headshot.

Your headshot.

Because Damien was one of your celebrity crushes.

One whom you worked with, and were friends with, and hung out with, and ate lunch with.

You felt your eye twitch.

You paused the video in a huff, too mortified to follow Angela’s instructions and watch it to the end.

You might’ve laughed if you weren’t so besides yourself with embarrassment. You were deeply confused as to how that list had even made it into the upload when you hadn’t sent it in.

You racked your brain, trying to remember if you’d drunkenly sent an email, or given an ok when you were only half awake.

You could recall, vaguely, a text exchange with Spencer a few weeks ago, where he had asked, out of the blue, about your top three celebrity crushes. And you gave your answers, sent a few googled pictures, all in good fun, to your friend.

He had never said it was for a video, though maybe at this point you should’ve been able to guess that being asked for a list of three top choices was for this series.

You: Charles.

You: What happened to confidentiality.

Spence: I CNA EXPLIAN

Spence: CAN

Spence: EXPLAIN

You: 🤨

Spence: LISTEN

Spence: I THOUGTH YOU KNWE

Spence: I THOIGHT IT WASSON PURPOSE

Spence: I THOUGHT HE KNEW??

Spence: BECAUSE HIS??

Spence: Please don’t kill me I have a family.

Spence: And I’ll buy you lunch.

You: You’ll buy me lunch for a month.

Spence: A week

You: Two weeks

Spence: Deal🤑

Spence: I love you❤️❤️

Spence: And I’m sorry I went over y’all’s heads

You weren’t mad.

Honestly, you couldn’t bring yourself to be genuinely angry; it was hard to be mad at one of your dearest friends over something that was so clearly a misunderstanding. Especially when it had no real bearing on your career or public image.

This just meant that people would now be fully aware that you had the hots for a coworker.

And said coworker would also be fully aware of it. You tried to push down the shame.

You: Accepted

You: I love you too❤️

You: I want Thai tomorrow

Spence: Would you settle for shirt?

You: I'll kill you.

Spence: Don’t you have another smosh man to bother🧐

You smiled at your own reassuring words, and Spencer’s acknowledgement of his fuckup was equally as helpful in improving your mood, as was his casual banter. For a moment that was enough to make you forget why your stomach was still in knots.

It could be argued that it was an open secret, it certainly seemed as though your friends were more shocked to see your list make it into the final cut of the video than they were to see the list itself. You counted on your fingers: who had you told, who figured it out like a child's simple jigsaw puzzle, who had asked point-blank after seeing you interact with Damien.

You ran out of fingers.

Still, you felt that you’d been cautious enough about it, to the point that Damien himself, at least, hadn’t seemed to figure it out, despite the amount of time you spent together, and the large portion of that time that you spent with a dopey grin on your face and a blush creeping up your cheeks.

Maybe he hadn’t seen the video. Maybe he’d never see the video. Maybe he wasn’t even planning on being online today at all.

Or maybe you could change your name and disappear for a while.

Maybe you’d be in the clear.

You took deep breaths, trying to settle your brain and your heart and the shakiness of your hands.

And then Damien’s name lit up your phone screen, and the results of your impromptu meditation were immediately gone, thrown out the window with your composure.

Damimen: Very interesting list

You: I’m so sorry

Damimen: What?

Damimen: Why?

You: I didn’t mean for you to find out this way

You: Very publicly on a Wednesday morning

Damimen: Who said I was just finding out?

You: Shut up

You: I’m good at keeping secrets

Damimen: I know

Damimen: Angela and Chanse aren’t tho

You: Oh god dammit

Damimen: Which is why I knew not to tell them anything about my list

Damimen: And I mean

Damimen: Stuff that I'd generally like to be kept under wraps

You: So the launch codes are safe?

Damimen: Are they safe if they're with me?

Damimen: 🤯

You: MR PRESIDENT!!

You: Wait

You: Joking aside

You: What are you talking about

You: Wdym “not telling them about your list”

Damimen: Did you not watch the whole video?

You: Got kinda distracted

You: Needed to make Spencer fear for his life a little

Damimen: ???

Damimen: Watch til the end

Damimen: And then come over?

Damimen: If you want?

You furrowed your brow, questions still unanswered, but pleased that he wasn’t upset with you.

You found your way back to the video, clicking forward again until you saw Damien’s headshot and then rewinding to see his list.

Pictures of you.

Three pictures of you. Pictures he had taken when you were together; at the ren faire, getting coffee, in the office.

And now the texts from everybody remarking on how cute the video was made sense. They hadn’t been referring to your list, they’d been referring to Damien’s more than forward response that worked in tandem with yours.

“Not a lot of variety to this one,” Shayne laughed into his hands, “I don’t really have to guess cause there’s only one name left on this list, but even if there wasn’t…This is Damien. Yeah, no, this is Damien. Final answer.”

“How do you know?” Spencer pushed.

“Well I mean, I, y’know, I received these pictures from Damien when they were taken,” Shayne spoke as if it should’ve been apparent, “But also. Come on. I know. See,” he clicked to the next page, where Damien’s name and picture appeared. Shayne raised his arms in triumph.

Your mouth fell open and your lips curved up into a subtle smile.

If you hadn’t been obvious, you’d certainly been oblivious.

The pictures of you that Damien had taken lined up on the screen paired with Shayne’s assurance in his answer, the knowing chuckles from off screen, it all made your heart skip. You felt it sinking from your throat and back into your chest where it belonged, thrumming contentedly.

Damien’s handle on your heart didn’t worry you. If anything, it relaxed you, made you feel safe, collected despite the rollercoaster of a morning you’d had. The discovery of a crush requited made you feel giddy; young and in love.

You: On my way

You: Gimme 20 minutes

You: And send me those pictures

You: 😘

Damimen: 🫡🥰

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 81)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (64) / Alexia Putellas x Character (37) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson (18)

Masterlist (other parts here)

((3.9k))

Due to popular demand, I'm going to post a chapter bi-weekly, every Thursday and Sunday night until we hit Part 100!

YFN POV

“I love you, little one,” she heard Lucy whispering into her ear between soft kisses to the cheek. “I love you. I love you.”

YFN was far too tired to have woken up to it, of course. She’d had surgery the day before and now she had all of Wednesday to herself to get some well-needed rest after the chaos.

She woke around 11am, groaning due to the pain. “Luce..” she mumbled into her pillow, barely knowing where she was.

No response.

“Luce…” she said again, louder.

Again, nothing. She rolled tenderly and just far enough to see that Lucy’s side of the bed was empty.

“Lucy?” She called, louder. If she were anywhere, it would be the kitchen, surely.

Silence.

She turned back to her side and sat up, seeing a piece of paper on her bedside table with tablets and some water.

Good morning, little one,

I’m at training until 5pm today. Sarina let me have a little sleep in to be with you.

Please take your medication as soon as you wake and text me. I’ll reply when I can.

Jordan and Leah will be over later today around 3pm.

Please don’t cook or go out... just order whatever you need and rest.

I love you, my girl.

Love, Luce xx

YFN couldn’t help the little smile creeping across her face at the fact that she’d signed off with the nickname she used for her. Christ, she’d forgotten about training.

She took her painkillers and downed them with the water before texting Lucy that she was awake. She knew she wouldn’t be able to reply most of the day but would probably get permission to sneak a text or two given the circumstances.

Once she felt ready enough, she pushed herself out of bed and willed herself to move against the pain. She couldn’t go far and wasn’t allowed to put pressure on her knee just yet, and so she slid straight into the wheelchair by the bed and used that to get around. Although she wanted a shower, she knew she had to wait until later when Lucy could help her move.

She checked to see if Narla was fed first before managing to settle herself on the couch in the spot that practically had an indent of her ass and elevated her braced leg. She couldn’t even put her hair up and had to settle for it down and frustrating her. It took all of 2 minutes for her to realise just how much Lucy did for her, and how much she appreciated her.

YFN decided to use her free alone time to get some work done. She’d managed to get herself to the stage of having delegated quite a lot and organised her teams so well that they all went about their jobs, with her as an escalation point. She’d moved her original team up into supervisorial positions and they spoke directly with her the most. She replied to emails, overwhelmed with brands asking when the next event was, as they had gotten new clients and were eager to mingle amongst the football stars. Then she checked on the rosters for upcoming games and look at the progress of editing that her team had made with the videos from the Lumos event. She was excited that she’d be able to start uploading them, as the promo photos had been out for two days.

She used her spare time to create a roster of when they’d release the promos and content for each player, timing it with events or games. There was so much to publish, that it was quite difficult to not clutter too much. They had the content – now they needed to use it as effectively as possible.

She decided that the best interview to start with would be her favourite of the day – her interview with Alexia and Chiquito, paired with Lucy and Narla. She’d originally put the pair together because she knew that Alexia didn’t like speaking English and Lucy could not only speak both languages, but they were friends, and she’d help her comfort-wise and language-wise.

That had been one of the only times that day that YFN had seen Alexia actually smiling. She paused the video where Alexia and Lucy were cutely smiling at each other and it warmed her heart to see.

Her mind shifted to Ridley as she wondered on her. She was back, and it had made her so happy that she’d cried in her arms. She’d visited her and Lucy in the hospital the day before and given her a much-needed, long-lasting  hug. They hadn’t been able to speak much, as YFN had been so out of it on drugs, though she did make a promise to her to speak about it soon. That had been enough for her, and still was. She had just wanted her best friend back.

She remembered their conversation recently where she’d admitted to Ridley that she had wanted her to stay around more, because she loved and missed her. They were such a big part of each other’s lives, and always would be. Linked by history and trauma, and a bond that she’d never had with anyone else. She’d been so happy when she’d agreed to stay around.

“From now on, I’ll be here as long as you want me around, okay?” That’s what she’d said as she kissed her hair.

And then… the heartbreak. The 3am wake up to her absolutely torn. On her knees. Begging her to let her go.  “Please. I need to go, Blue.”

YFN knew why she was there. Usually, it was just a text or a call, or a brief hug and kiss before she disappeared. This time it was an apology. She said she’d be there – but she needed to go. And YFN understood that with every fibre of her being. And so, she’d let her. Because in her eyes, she wasn’t breaking a promise. She knew that Ridley would always be ‘right here’ and that one simple message would have her come running.

Because they loved each other.

She sighed, her eyes focussing back on the screen and away from where her mind had drifted to Ridley.

She’d started several segments within the ever-expanding content machine of Lumos. The first; her couch interviews which she would continue over the next few weeks as she continued to heal. The second; her pet interviews from the event. The third; her podcasts.

They would be the three largest segments that Lumos would undertake – and were presented by her, as requested by Catherine. It was the reason she hired her. For her mind, her questions, her interviewing techniques. Her ability to make players feel calm and comfortable and actually heard instead of led different directions with questions which soul purpose was to pry out information. Not at Lumos. Not in her interviews. She’d never let that happen.

The first interview from her couch segment she’d posted was Lucy’s as she immediately gained popularity from how flirty Lucy had been. The second had been Alexia’s as she rode the wave of publicity that Mark had created. The first podcast she’d released yesterday, containing her co-hosts, Jill and Alex along with their first guests, Leah and Bunny Shaw. She pondered on the pet interviews and her decision to post Alexia and Lucy’s first. Would it be too much to post them again? They were two of the most popular women in women’s football.

After consulting with her team and Catherine for a little while – she’d made the decision to post that as the first for that segment anyways, as it would come across as a strong start to Lumos content. Both segments were a completely different style, environment, and line of questioning. The couch was much more in depth and real, whereas the pet interviews were fun and enjoyable.

As soon as she posted her first of that segment, the doorbell rang and she looked at the time, smiling. Her friends were here.

JORDAN POV

Jordan wanted to stay in bed with that delicious warmth of Leah forever. She woke and shuffled her hoody off, rolling over to cuddle into her neck. Leah groaned as she woke slowly, tightening her grip, her fingers beginning to stroke unconsciously. They stayed like that a while. Slowly waking up by the feel, the sound and the warmth of each other.

Ever so naturally, things evolved. Leah’s stroking became larger, and under the back of Jordan’s shirt. Jordan wriggled into Leah as she pressed her lips to her neck and soon enough, they were moaning themselves awake as they enjoyed the feel of each other.

Jordan’s back tingled at the feel of Leah’s hands and suddenly she was horny. She found Leah’s thigh and hooked her leg over, using it as friction to move and grind against.

“Fuck,” Leah gasped as she felt her move against her. “Don’t stop, Jord. Take what you want.”

Jordan ground against her thigh harder as her body shivered at the feel of Leah everywhere. Her hand found that famous blonde hair of Leah’s and pulled her head back, just far enough that Jordan could properly bite into her neck.

She felt Leah shuddering beneath her.

“Fuck. Yes.”

Leah gripped the back of her head to keep her on her neck as her other hand made its way up the front of Jordan’s shirt to grab her breast as if it was hers. Like it used to be. Like she wanted it to be again. Her thumb found her nipple and played there as Jordan sucked the spot she’d just bitten. There would be a hickey, and usually Leah didn’t like this, but not today. She didn’t know if Jordan was testing her or not, but she didn’t care. She wanted all of her, all the time. She wasn’t ashamed to have a hickey from her. Hell, she wouldn’t even try to cover it.

A bark from below the bed had them both freeze. Jordan pulled away slightly to look down at Blu, her eyes now fully open.

She turned back to Leah who was very much excited. Horny. Her hair a mess and her pupils dilated. Regardless of her state, she was honest with her words.

“We… should be careful. Not until you’re ready, Jord.”

Jordan knew Leah would have stopped, but would she herself have gone through with it? Would she cry again?

She nodded. “I’m almost ready, Lea… almost.”

Leah smiled gently. “I know. Take all the time you need. I’m just happy to wake up next to you.”

Jordan let herself smile back as she pressed a kiss to her lips.

“Can I show you around Birmingham today?”

Of course, Leah had been to Birmingham, though the idea of a day wandering the city together was something she could never refuse.

“Only if I can buy you breakfast.”

“Deal.”

Jordan washed her excitement away with a morning shower, letting her fingers trace over her nipple where Leah had just been. Without thinking about it, her fingers kept playing while her other hand found her clit and began to tease. Thinking about Leah while touching herself was not insanity – though there was a good argument to say that it was as she was just a wall away.

Regardless, she didn’t know if she was ready, and needed to get her excitement out to avoid being a horny mess during the day.

Bracing her head against the tiled wall, she worked her clit and her nipple, eventually coming with a gaspy moan against the echoing acoustics of the room.

Jordan was in her room, staring at her closet and wondering what to wear when she hear Leah enter.

“Did you touch yourself in the shower?” Leah asked.

Jordan spun to her, barely catching her falling towel. “What?”

“You heard me,” the England captain said, stepping forwards.

“I…”

Shit, she’d heard the echoes.

“Yes.”

Leah’s eyes flashed like Jordan had never seen before, and she stepped forwards.

“Were you thinking about me?”

Jordan had to crane her neck back just to look at her.

“Y…yes.”

Leah tilted her head up slightly further with one finger on her chin. “Good.”

They spent the first half of the day in Birmingham, Jordan excitedly showing Leah all of her favourite spots around town, including her breakfast spot. Leah insisted on paying, and Jordan repaid the kindness by reaching out to entwine her fingers with Leah’s as they strode through her local park. Blu happily pranced next to them, Leah holding his leash as Jordan had agreed to. She knew how much she missed him. Missed this. And she felt the exact same.

She just wondered when she would know she was ready for sex with her again.

Lucy had called in the morning, just before she’d left for training, and had asked their activities for the day. She was worried about YFN being alone and almost immobile. Jordan felt like she hadn’t spent nearly enough time with her friend, and so around midday they had the car packed and headed off for their drive to London. A drive that they’d both done far too often as of late.

They dropped her clothes and belongings at Leah’s apartment before arriving at Lucy and YFN’s just after 3pm.

Leah knocked on the door.

A pause. “Come in!”

Blu ran in ahead of them, presumably to find his friend Narla, and the two made their way into the apartment to find YFN on the couch, looking much less tired than she had the past few days.

“Oh, I missed you!” Jordan exclaimed as she bounded over for a gentle hug. “Wow, someone needs a shower.”

“I know!” She sighed, exasperated as Leah hugged her hello also. “I can’t really do it by myself. Lucy will be home in a few hours. I’m sorry.”

“We can help?”

YFN paused. “I… uh…”

“You can be naked or have your underwear on,” Jordan shrugged to show it wasn’t a big issue. “Doesn’t bother us.”

She caught Leah’s look of happiness flash from the corner of her eye as she said ‘us’.

“I guess it would be nice to be all fresh for when Lucy comes home..”

“Exactly!”

The couple helped her into her wheelchair and towards the larger bathroom, rather than the ensuite. They gently helped her remove her clothes down to her underwear and bag her braced leg.

“Can this come off?” Leah asked, gesturing to the sling.

YFN nodded, a little embarrassed but happy to finally be able to clean herself.

Leah removed her sling as carefully as she could, looking at the new bandage and bruises on her collarbone. “How did it go?” She murmured, distracting her.

“Really well... he’s happy with it. I just need to be extra gentle so it doesn’t fail again.”

She nodded. “No more fighting people, mate.”

“Hey – that was very one-sided.”

“I know… I’m just… I’ll be happy when he’s out of the picture.”

YFN didn’t reply until Leah looked her in the eyes. She gave a small, knowing smile. “Me too.”

Once she was under the water, balancing on one leg, Leah left and Jordan stayed to make sure she didn't fall. She distracted her by talking about Leah and their heated morning, and then their day in Birmingham.

“I’m really happy for you, Dory,” she said, genuinely. That’s one of the things Jordan loved about her the most. She was always so genuine and loved when people were happy. “Do you know when you’ll be ready to…”

Jordan sighed as she turned so YFN could wash under her underwear. “I’m not sure… soon? I thought I was ready when I slept with her last time and look how that turned out.”

“You didn’t have closure, it’s completely understandable.”

“I just don’t want to make that mistake again and have us back at ground zero.”

“Oh, you won’t, trust me. You’re levels beyond that already. You just need to talk and communicate. And when you do eventually sleep with her again, go very, very slowly. Slow enough that you’re knowing how you feel at every step rather than bottling it in like last time, okay?”

Jordan nodded and turned back to turn the shower off. “How are you always right?”

“I honestly don’t know how it hasn’t annoyed Lucy just yet,” she laughed, letting Jordan help her from the shower.

“Not much annoys her, I think.”

“Except people chewing or breathing loud. If that’s around – she goes wild.”

“How come I never knew that?” Jordan wondered aloud.

“Because it’s the wonderful, wacky mind of Lucy and barely she can keep up with it?”

Jordan laughed. “Nail. Head.”

YFN POV

The couple insisted on making food seeing as YFN hadn’t eaten and Lucy was going to be hungry when she came home. YFN grimaced at the chaos and lack of coordination that was Leah and Dory in the kitchen, trying to work out how to make a roast. It was interesting to watch, though. They were patient with each other. Kind to each other. Just happy that they were together, even if it was all going to shit cooking wise.

Lucy stepped through the door just before five and immediately looked nervous at the sight of the kitchen and the pair in it. She shared a look with YFN who gave an amused, nervous grin in return.

“Oh, Lucy’s back!”

They greeted her, and then she was immediately by YFN’s side, holding her and breathing her in.

“Christ,” she groaned. “You feel so good. Wait. Did you shower?” She pulled back.

“Yes, Luce,” she chuckled. “The girls helped me.”

Lucy froze, her lips turning downwards. YFN touched them, pondering over them before leaning forwards to gently brush her lips on Lucy’s.

“I still had my underwear on,” she whispered into her lips, even though she didn’t need to. The kitchen was loud enough that they had their privacy.

Lucy made an unsure noise and YFN kissed her, dragging away that overthinking.

“It was friendly help, Luce. I promise. Now go and shower please, you’re stinky and I’m not in a position to escape..”

“Well, we can’t have that now, can we?” The footballer grinned and left for her shower.

Dinner ended up being surprisingly okay and edible. They all sat and laughed, talking about their days and what was happening over the coming ones. Lucy’s family were arriving tomorrow, and the couple seemed eager to join. They’d known Lucy her entire life, so of course they knew her family well too. They’d also both be at the game on Friday, organising to take YFN to watch.

“Oh, and in other news,” she announced spontaneously. “Riddles is back..”

“What?!”

ALEXIA POV

Ridley lowered her head and Alexia’s heart sunk at that. “Is there any hope for us?”

“Yes... Don’t run away again. Move forwards with me, together. I need you to be here for me, like I am for you. I need security. Don’t leave again. Fight for me. Fight for us.” Suddenly Ridley raised her head with almost mad determination in her eyes. And then… those dark eyes lowered to her lips. Fuck. Was she.. was she… about to….

Ridley cupped her face with one hand, drawing her down and reaching up as they met in the middle. Their lips met with passion and need.

Fuck. The way her lips moved. The way she tasted. Alexia tilted her head and her tongue began to brush her lips when… just as quickly as it started, it stopped. Ridley pulled away by sliding her head down, Alexia’s lips brushing along her cheek until Ridley pulled back. Her lips were a plusher shade of red now. That just made her even sexier.

“It’s all your choice from now on, Lex.”

Only if she knew that in her head, there was no choice to be made.

“I’ll stay…” she whispered.

“But not for long… I have to be back…”

“I know. Just a few more nights to be with Blue for her surgery. And then back to Spain.”

“And then back to Spain,” she nodded. “Okay.”

What the fuck was she doing? Alexia was usually so strong and independent. Now she was putty in her hands. And she loved it, because she knew Ridley was too.

Ridley’s fingers expertly unclasped her from her seat and collected her things.

“My bag and Chiquito…”

Alexia bolted upright, her breathing ragged. She looked around, disoriented until she realised where she was.

In her apartment, in Barcelona.

She looked at the time, 8am. To Alexia, that was a sleep in. Especially as her body was so used to waking up early for training.

A warm softness moved against her and she looked down to see Chiquito half awake, as if he’d been woken by Alexia’s dream also.

“Good morning,” she murmured as she let her fingers stroke through that soft, grey fur of his. He rolled slightly and stretched himself out in a way that had her stroking his belly. She smiled.

Alexia took her morning just to herself and Chiquito. He’d explored around last night, though he was still curiously finding new things, new smells or items of interest. She let him explore his new world as she took her shower to wake up and went to the kitchen to make her breakfast. As she did so, she felt herself feeling… a little out of place. As if her apartment wasn’t her home anymore. She hoped it was just because she’d been away for a few days, and tried to shrug it off, thinking it would go away. Instead – her mind moved to Ridley.

Ridley in her dream. Ridley on the plane. Kneeling in front of her. She’d never wanted to touch somebody so badly in her life.

She’d come back… but would she stay? Could she learn to love herself? And how would she prove that she’s not going anywh-

Alexia’s phone rang, and she’d been so in her head that she flinched. Putting the spatula down, she picked it up for the first time that day and softened at the name on the screen.

Ridley calling…

She didn’t even hesitate to answer.

“Hola,” she murmured.

“Bon dia, la Reina.” Ridley replied in Catalan. “I was hoping you’d be awake..”

“I’m making breakfast,” she hummed happily at the sound of her voice.

“Mmn. Did you make enough for me?”

Alexia laughed and gave her the same cheekiness back. “Oh, yes. More than enough. I’ll express post it straight away.”

“Or you could just invite me. Save the shipping costs.”

She rolled her eyes, very aware that she couldn’t get herself to stop smiling. “Okay then, when’s the quickest you can get here?”

“Faster than you will believe. I don’t believe that was an invite though, Lex. Use your words.”

She paused as if she were thinking about it before she spoke softly. “Ridley…”

“Yes, Alexia?”

“Would you like to join me for breakfast?”

Alexia heard a happy hum from the other end of the phone. “How unexpected. I’d love to. Now unlock the door, please.”

Alexia froze – her eyes widening as she spun towards the small hall leading to her front door. She gave a breathy laugh. “You… are very funny.”

“And very much going to prove to you that I’m here to stay, Lex.”

Part of Alexia thought it was a joke. Ridley would do something like that. The other part knew she wouldn’t mess with her promise. She began walking towards the door, the phone still to her ear as she unlocked it and hesitantly opened it.

[eu0n1a]

Pls I need more of yandere Izuku!!! I BEG OF YOU!!!! I 100% believe he is stalker material and would have that wall of pictures of you.

yandere prohero izuku breaking into your home (+more Stalking details)

your relationship seemed normal to you, he's your childhood best friend. after graduating UA and quickly rising to the top. you never escaped his mind. he misses you SO MUCH!

i mean you two have spent practically your whole lives together, and now what? nothing? he's so busy now, beating villains bloody, attending national TV interviews. if it's not the work then it's the media not giving him space to breathe. and you barely have time with all the pile of work your professors give you.

he would try his best to maintain contact with you. but everytime the messages would be hours apart. he felt you fading away and it upset him. he hasn't seen you in so long.

so he decides to visit you. issue is during his visit ...

he knows it's late at night. but something caught his eye. around the small space between the curtains and he saw YOU!

"gosh you're so cute," he thinks with heart eyes.

deciding to let himself in.

"best friends let themselves into eachother's houses, right?"

"i just want to turn off the TV, i'm doing her a favor."

taking advantage of the fact it's 3AM. passing through the white picket fence. in your backyard he opened the back door you forget to lock. Japan is one of the safest countries in the world. why lock it?

because of him. you'll learn soon.

exploring your house first, particularly your bedroom. rationalizing it by saying, "their birthday is coming up. maybe i'll find out what she likes."

of course he rationalizes every odd thing he does.

sniffing the pillows, a soft smile, whispering to himself, "mm strawberry shampoo" total lovesick idiot.

by the time, he finished learning things about you, he got to the living room. The TV radiating light on your face, everything else dark.

today was his first picture, his heart beating rapidly as he took it. gosh, how much he wanted to kiss you, hold you. you always lingered on his mind and he hates himself. hates himself for not confessing his love to you back in UA.

you could have been his. his honey, his lover. someone to dote on, someone to love, he hated how he wasn't able to caress your cheek.

but for now he had to return back home.

creating fake social media accounts. thank goodness you didn't have a private account. saving all your pictures, visiting your page whenever he could.

screenshotting pictures, making deep dives on the surroundings. who's that? he's searching up everything about the people around you in those pictures.

but he wouldn't talk to you, no. he needs to make sure he has all his facts straight about you. needs to make your reunion perfect.

instead he took pictures, videos. his phone had a whole folder dedicated to them. it was private, labeled as 'documents'. even bought a usb to upload it to his personal laptop.

pictures of you out on a walk, at a club, at home. he would dedicate his time simply staring, excusing it as "she's changed so much, i need to learn more about her".

it turned into something he couldn't help. secretly following her because 'a quirkless person must be protected. nothing will happen to them on my watch.'

familiarizing himself with you again as he opens one of his drawers. notebooks upon notebooks, all about you, from elementary to his UA years. reading through them either to give himself a good laugh or reminisce the past.

opening up a new notebook for a new era. once the pen hits the paper, he writes quickly, whispering gibberish at a rapid pace only he could understand.

(thx 4 the ask, I've literally never had one before💗)