#anyway. not everyone wants to live in a fucking city either

[foxgloveinspace]

If you think cars don’t grant freedom you live in a city, don’t leave the city, and don’t plan on leaving the city.

I live in the middle of freaking No Where, and if I didn’t have a car it wouldn’t be ‘inconvenient’ to get to work, I wouldn’t be able to get to work, cause the walk is 3 hours to the nearest town.

You don’t think outside of your situation.

[hamburgirlbulge]

Man fucking. Having a day.

[ayyponine]

girl help im going back n forth on whether or not i should send an email to thank the beautiful man fr letting me join the drawing session last week (more info on that entire situation here and here) and letting him know i probably wont be back but appreciate having had the experience either way. great or horrible idea leave a comment or DM to lmk.

[depresssant]

NEGLECTFUL!PLATONIC!YAN!batfam x GN!reader

synopsis : growing up with a shit mom and constant step-dads and mom's boyfriends, your view on life has grown pretty bleak. you just want to die, since it doesn't seem to get better than this. things can't get any worse, can they?

so reader is very flawed ppl. i’m trying to make this as gn as possible for pls bear with me. asks and requests r open. reblogs are also much appreciated. now that i’ve gotten my e-begging out of the way, enjoy this pathetic excuse of a story

warnings : child abuse, past sexual abuse, yandere, etc

you want to die.

you always do.

staring at the wanna be thug pointing a gun at you, you sigh and roll your eyes in exasperation. perhaps pissing him off will the best way to get him to curl a finger around the trigger. or judging by his temperament, you won't have to do much.

"you? i should give my money to you?"

"who the fuck do you think you are, bitch?" the thug screams at you angrily. his grip gets tighter and clammier. he's not experienced with this. he's probably ganged up with a bunch of thugs to pull shit like this. it wouldn't take much to disarm him. "give me the fucking money before i blow your head off!"

"to a junkie like you?" you are a junkie, too, so you're not too sure about making fun of him for that. "i don't give money to hobos."

that is wrong, too. but you want to piss him off.

"that's it, you stupid bitch!" the thug's stances becomes defensive. his hateful glare is pointed at you while he musters the courage to actually press the trigger. he doesn't look like he'll do it. you've seen countless like him roaming the streets, holding you at gunpoint. he probably won't do it. then again, this is gotham. you don't expect much. either he'll shoot you dead, forcibly take your stuff, flee the scene out of fear, or be dismantled by one of the city's vigilantes. perhaps he'd shoo—

"stop right there!"

damn it.

you think too soon.

a young robin is quick to have the wanna be thug tied up and beat down. you would've questioned why a kid who seemingly looked twelve can do such a thing, but you've learned to not question most things in your life. you merely sigh in disappoint and pick up your dropped backpack before beginning the journey to hell.

"excuse me? wait! where are you headed?"

gosh, his boy-ish voice grates your nerves. makes you clench your teeth. your gaze narrows, but you know better than to react. reaction gains a reaction—one that will never be in your favor. it'll lead to a fight—one that will never be in your favor. you'll end up broken, bleeding, and bruised. now that isn't something in your favor. now you're thinking of favor too much. forcing a smile, you turn around to face the pre-teen vigilante. "yes?"

"are you alright?" he asks with practiced concern. he doesn't actually care. it's probably just protocol.

"a-okay!" the words are hollow. they lack depth. like you. "thank you for your help. i don't know what would've happened to me if you weren't there."

you do know. you wish you wouldn't.

"you're welcome," robin replies with polished words like he's not exactly convinced. "would you like for me to walk you? the city hasn't been safe for some time now."

"when is it ever safe? but that's okay. i live just around the corner, so i think i'll be fine."

"are you sure—"

"completely."

please. why won't he just leave you alone? there goes your plan spoiled by him again. every time you've been in an attempted robbing, he's been there to destroy your chances of getting shot. of escaping. he always does this. this is a repeated cycle between the two of you. he's a flying bird until you shoot him down. your name clearly wants to escape from his lips, but robin nods his head in understanding.

"this seems to happen to you all the time. my wish is for you to be safe."

"this is gotham." the grip on the straps on your backpack tighten. "everyone's gotta go through this. anyways, i gotta go, you know. thanks for savin' me."

"of course."

you don't spare him a single glance. the sky is wrapped up in black clouds heavy with the burden of rain. icy cold wind sings a melancholy tune through the stiff air. the door to your apartment looks like the gates of hell. it's all futile. no matter how many sighs you sigh, how many wishes you wish, and how many curses you curse, you'll still land up in the same fate. without escape.

that is the summary of your life.

taking a few seconds to prepare yourself for the incoming session, you open the door to be met with radio silence. silence is never good. half the time, it means something is brewing for you, and they're taking their sweet time to scare you into thinking nothing will happen. sometimes. not all the time. the other time, it just means he need to rise from his pile of misery first.

the hand of your mother's boyfriend is instantly wrapped around your neck before you can even register why the hell the apartment looks like a tornado hit it. he squeezes so tightly you feel like blood is gushing out of your ears with how loudly they ring. white spots dot along your blurry sight as you struggle to breathe. you can hear a frantic voice telling him to let you go, but you're pushed up more against the wall. this is the norm. doesn't mean it hurts any less. he'll let you go, give you some time to regain your breath, and then rain down bullets upon you.

that's exactly what happens.

your hand goes straight to your neck as your raspy and shaky coughs wreck your chest. he squeezes hard enough for it to hurt but it not show. and then the kicks and punches come. with how much your chest and ribs are struck, you're a bit surprised at how you haven't broken a bone yet. your potential step-father screams at you, but you can barely hear it over the repetition of words in your head. he grabs your bloody face and shout something incoherent before letting you go to kick you.

leaving you in your own pile of misery.

it's normal. yes, it's completely normal. you're used to this. it'll get better. it always does. but you've got the crushing idea it never will.

gotham heights high school—the school you're forced to attend.

the class division is insane to look at, because it's there even from a short and near prospective. how the richest kids got put in a school with the poorest—you'll never know. the only thing you do know is that every one of these kids are pieces of shit. even the ones that pretend to be nice.

tim drake—or shall you say tim wayne—is no different.

even as he helps up the girl who just got roughly pushed to the floor, causing all her textbooks to scatter, you can only eye him with disdain. if he really cares, then he would've beat the shit out of those athletes. but he doesn't. they're all the same—privileged and all. sympathy shouldn't be given to them. not to drake or the wealthy yet somehow bullied girl.

"but y'know what i heard?" your friend drags your attention back to him. zarian leans against a locker lazily, but excitement practically buzzes off of him. "the bruce wayne is coming to our track meet today!"

your other friend, jaylene, rolls her eyes as she applies her eyeliner using the mirror hanging up on the inside door of her locker. she speaks exactly what you're thinking. "only because his beloved son is gonna be there."

"well, still. think about the connections we can make! all the famous people that'll be there."

"keep dreaming. asshat. i put all my money on the attention being on rich the kid. i don't even know why he joined track. varsity, at that, too. there has to be some sort of bribery going on."

an incoming argument is clearly brewing up, so you take in a deep breath to say something, but a new voice beats you to it.

"excuse me?"

you and your two friends turn to face the guy standing in front of you. charismatic, intelligent,  and optimistic—he's an enigma that shines on everyone. tim drake. his black, messy yet somehow in place hair does no justice for his good looks. he's the complete package. rich, good looking, tall, and empathetic. the mere sight of him annoys you.

zarian is the first to speak up. he quirks a brow and offers tim a grin. "what's up, man?"

"you're leaning against my locker." tim rubs the back of his neck. he smiles awkwardly in the presence of the three of you, and it takes your friend a beat to understand what he's saying before moving away.

"oh yeah. my fault," he says as he moved to stand next to you.

the school's very own bruce wayne only shakes his head and tells him it's okay while opening his locker and grabbing a few things. people flock around, waiting for him to be done with whatever the hell he's doing, so they can be back to his side like leeches sucking on blood. he surely can't be this dumb, no? these people don't want to be his friend...

well, it's not as if it's your problem. you wish it is. you and your friends turn to make way to first period, but drake clearly has other plans. he sandwiches himself between you and zarian with a grin of his own plastered on an unblemished face. one carefree of any worry or pain. "so," tim begins. "first track meet of the year, huh? aren't you guys nervous?"

jaylene merely hums in amusement and shrugs. "it gets better. when you've spent four years in track—in front of all those judging people—it wears off. hopefully, you'll get used to it soon."

that is jab, though, rich the kid doesn't seem to catch on. he laughs casually, but even you can sense the anxiety like it was radioactive. ""i hope so. i've sprinted so much i feel like i'll get shin splits again."

you zone out while he has a conversation with your friends. as if drake has ever had experience with track. it took you all of freshman year to just prove that you can actually be a part of the track team, and here tim drake is, parading around about getting on varsity without a single grain of hard work. he's a naturally talented person. good at everything. that's what makes you hate him so much. people like him get everything handed to them just because they're good at it first hand and leave behind people that actually work for it. you want to tell him to buzz off—that he can't talk about how much he's practiced and how nervous he is, but you keep your mouth shut. that is, until he directly addresses you.

tim's eyes narrow at you with comedic suspicion. "you know, you look like someone i know. a lot. the resemblance is crazy."

"eight billion people out there. you never know." your tone is flat, stoic, lacking any bit of emotion.

"gosh, you even sound like him! that's really terrifying."

"well, whoever, it is, i hope i never meet him," you murmur.

your two friends leave for their classes soon, and you and drake find your seats at the back of high school economics. exhaustingly so, you sit together in one of the many desk pairs, and drake uses this opportunity to annoy you any chance he gets. you give off the vibe that you don't want to talk to him. he doesn't get the hint. you don't tell him, though. maybe that's the problems. his shit-eating grin ticks you off when you look in his direction. "what?"

"let's be friends!"

"no."

"what? come on! don't be so cold!" he whines like a petulant child being told no.

"no."

"too bad! you're my friend now."

"tim," you sigh. it's wrong to scream. it's bad to scream. screaming leads to fights. fights lead to you laying in a pool of your own blood. laying in blood leads to missing practice. missing practice leads to less skill. less skill leads to less of a chance of getting the hell out of here. just smile. forgive and forget. know your persona. know who you are. kind. happy. funny. "fine." so you smile with gritted teeth. you smile like you played a cruel joke on him. "we can be friends... i guess."

his face brightens at your fake words like he is just given the the world.

tim drake wiggles his eyebrows playfully and nudges you with his elbow. "you know, i've been trying to get you to say that since school started?"

"really now?"

"really. i'm glad we're going to be friends. oh! should we go out to eat with zarian and jaylene after the meet?"

... there's a chance your mom's boyfriend will get pissed off. he'll probably beat the shit out of you since the track meet would have happened, and you wouldn't need to have an unblemished body for meets. he'd scream, yell, and punch... like his life depended on it... fuck it.

"yeah," you reply shortly after with a firm nod of your head. "we can go to this diner near the theater. i'm sure you'll love the food."

this doesn't mean you hate him any less. he's still rich scum⏤how you're poor scum. he's stuck up, pretentious, and sickeningly sweet. exactly what you hate. you just hope you can have a good time after the track meet. the mischievous glint in his eyes told you otherwise.

"and this is my dad, bruce wayne."

what the hell are you doing?

the sun is setting along the horizon, the air is getting cooler again, and you want to sink into the floor. the plan was to head straight to the diner after this, but rich the kid somehow roped you into meeting his dad?

nausea pools in your stomach from both hunger and the feeling of thousands of eyes staring at you. cameras are flashing at gotham's billionaire as he smiles and firmly shakes your hand. confidence drips off of him disgustingly. his high-tailored suit radiates wealth and money. his stoic demeanor gives off an aura of mystery. you want to lay on a railroad track with an incoming train speeding along the way.

"it's nice to meet you. tim has ranted about his track teammates quite a lot."

there's an eleven year old standing next to him. his eyes are on you like that of an owl's but you neither glance at him or bother to acknowledge him. you just want to eat some food before meeting your doom at that apartment for not placing first like your mom's boyfriend wanted you to. like a goat getting stuffed before slaughter. it always leads down to that. no matter how many times you try to wish it was different. no matter how many times you imagine it to be different. no matter how many times you try to make it different.

"nice to meet you too." you shake his hand as well with a polite smile on your face. polite. calm. gentle. proper. "and yeah, he seems very eager to be on the team."

"of course, of course. well, it is getting late. why don't you come over for dinner some time?"

"maybe tonight?" tim suddenly adds in. at your hesitant expression, he groans in exasperation. "who do you think we are? blood-sucking bats? come on, we can go to the diner some other time!"

you have just met him... you've just accepted being his friend... you aren't the most social person. you've never had much friends, but even you can understand that dinner with the family doesn't happen until the friend and person have come close in a long period of time. jaylene and zarian have other matters to tend to, so it's going to be just you and tim at a diner. not⏤

ding!

your phone's notification's alarm chimes, and when you check who has sent you a message, you feel like getting on the ground to pray to whatever deity for letting you have a moment of peace.

mom: ⏤he's heavily drunk. don't come home.

a part of you is hit with a strong current full of guilt. this is your mother. you're supposed to be there for her through thick and thin. you're supposed to protect her and be her wall of defense against monsters like him. family look out for each other. you have to take care of her... but she doesn't take care of you. this makes you a terrible person. you know that. she'll probably get beaten to an inch of her life and hide her heavy bruises under makeup that was terribly done in a rush. and then, she'll throw whatever object is in sight at you in a fury of anger.

telling you she made too many sacrifices for you. telling you that you're ruined her life. telling you that she should've aborted you like your father had told her to. telling you exactly what you believe yourself. a curse that should've never been born... she'll be beaten within an inch of her life. but you have already lost yours.

after pretending to text her and sliding your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants, you nod with a sigh of joking resignation. "sure. i asked my mom, and she said it's okay."

"wonderful." mr. wayne nods and gestures to the limo you can see in the parking lot. a bit of overkill, perhaps.

honestly, you're still surprised that gotham's billionaire is inviting you to dinner. this man is the topic of magazines, and you're about to take a ride in his limo. how the hell have you ended up in a situation like this? fate is still fucking with you, isn't it?

you find yourself seated next to tim while mr. wayne and his youngest son, damian, sit on the seats to your right. they're talking about something, but once again, you find yourself half listening and zoning out, staring at nothing until mr. wayne's questions pulls you back to reality.

"so how has school been faring for you?" mr. wayne asks in a cool and collected tone.

you laugh lightly and smile as politely as ever. "pretty good. i hope to leave gotham after graduation to study somewhere else."

"who would want to stay in gotham?" tim rolled his eyes, rolling the first place medal between his fingers. "by the way, remember when i said you looked like someone i know? i was talking about my dad?"

your brows rise in both exasperation and annoyance at his claims. now he's just plain, out right trying to make fun of you in front of a billionaire. your shoulders tense, ready to refute his claims, but mr. wayne surprisingly chuckles and rubs his chin while taking a good look at your face. "well, i can see it, but there's eight billion people out there in the world. i'm bound to look like someone. though, i didn't expect for it to be someone as talented as [name] here."

you force a quiet laugh along at the sound of his tone. foreboding. you know tones like this. like he's hiding something that they all know except for you. it means you've made a mistake in even giving in to tim drake's constant begging. why the hell was he so eager to have you become his friend? why is he so eager to maintain a friendship with you? why the hell has mr. wayne invited you to dinner when he's rumored to be mysterious, secretive, and a literal brick wall that nobody can get past?

"you've achieved so much for a child your age." mr. wayne sets his gaze dead on you. "your father must be so proud."

and his eyes glimmer with that same shine you saw in tim's.

ewwww

this was not proofread so forgive me and uh, i will be turning this into a series

um also making a tag list if anyone wants to be a part of it

[duhnova]

Dancing Queen | Choi Seungcheol

Pairing: disco club owner!choi seungcheol x performer!reader (fem)

Genre: smut, fluff, tiny bit of angst if you squint but its almost nonexistent

Synopsis: the stage is where you felt the most comfortable, letting go and singing for everyone that would sit and listen. but it was hard making a living in America, every corner you turned there was trouble waiting for you because you were too comfortable with your sexuality for the public’s liking. so when you stepped off the ship that took you to your new life in Paris, you were surprised to collide with a disco club owner who was in a similar boat as you.

Warning(s): smut under the cut (mdni!!!), mentions of food and alcohol, joke about marriage, ambiguous sexuality, talks on sexuality and swinging any which way, cat calling, talks of sexism and a little power imbalance, mentions of religion and leaving the church, mentions of immigration, implications of a future threesome, cheol has a sir & daddy kink (big surprise), spanking, bruises (cheol has a bit of a heavy hand and thrust), office sex, a bit of praising (both ways), lowkey breeding kink (are we surprised?), i feel like the sex was a bit tame in this but please let me know if i forgot anything else! - don't mind grammatical errors and typos, i tried!

A/N: biggest shout out to @onlyseokmins & @the-boy-meets-evil for proof reading for me and offering feedback/opinions, and for also putting up with my late night bullshit these last few nights of constantly putting off finishing this - jess really saw my turmoil with this one and BLESS her heart for not telling me to go fuck myself after id message her late saying i either finished a section or i didn't end up writing like i wanted too (and then id send her an idea right after for her to read in the morning). anyways i spent the last few months struggling with this fic and i hope ya'll like it and if you don't... keep it to yourself <3

70s;teen collab masterlist | my svt masterlist

Paris was beautiful, the long voyage was more and more worth it the longer you spent in the city that bustled and thrived. America was nothing compared to France, the countrysides and the cities alike felt like they were straight out of a book. 

Life was starting to finally look up for you, even if you weren't fully able to escape the turmoils you faced in America, you were given more opportunities in the so-called city of love. Cars driven by men still honked at you and women with their children glared and covered their kin's eyes as you walked down the street, your cleavage and shoulders on display and your skirt far above the knees. 

Despite the business of the city during the day, there were plenty of shops downtown that didn’t open up until nightfall. One in particular, Club Kidult, was said to be the best nightclub in all of the country. It’s owned by a man from Korea who is a wildcard, with a knack for “adopting” foreigners - or so you’ve been told. 

“Can’t you read? We’re closed right now.” A man glares at you after knocking on the front door of Club Kidult. 

“Is the owner here?” You brushed the strange man’s hostility off. His glare turned to curiosity as he finally eyed you up and down in a manner that wasn’t unfamiliar. 

“Why? Does he owe you money, doll?” The man moves to fully stand in the doorframe, letting you get a nice view of the inside of the shop behind his tall stature. 

“No…” You huff quietly at the insinuation before giving him your sweetest smile, knowing exactly how to play with a man. “I wanted to see if I could perform here tonight.” 

“You a dancer?” 

“I can be if you want.” You couldn’t help the flirty tone, the man was attractive and so far he hasn’t treated you like an object. “But I mainly sing.”

“A singer?” He hums quietly, his grin showing off his sharp teeth. “We don’t get many of those around here, most women want to dance on our stage.” 

“I could imagine,” You cross your arms, pushing your boobs up slightly. “So… Is he in?” The man hums quietly. 

“Ah, no.” He was very blunt with his answer before he looked back over his shoulder to look at the empty building. “But…”

“But?”

“He might kill me for this but,” he looks back at you. “I’ll let you wait for him. He likes to stop by and make sure everything is ready for the night before he goes to get dolled up.” 

“Well I don’t want to get you in trouble now.” 

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll get me in a lot of trouble, doll,” He gives you a wink before he’s moving out of the way to welcome you into the club. “Too bad I’m not scared of Cheol.”

“Cheol?” You question as you hesitantly walk into the establishment. Despite it being closed still, there was music playing and you could hear a lot of voices coming from somewhere in the back - easing your nerves of possibly being alone with this stranger. 

“Choi Seungcheol is the name of the owner, but don't call him that or he might bite your head off.”

“So what do I call him then?” 

“I’m sure he’ll tell you, but you can address him as sir, I guess.” The man shrugs. “I’m Mingyu by the way, head of security at this joint.”

“So head of security, do you just let all the people that come knocking on the door looking for your boss in?”

“Only the pretty ones.” He smirks as he walks around the bar. “Our bartenders don’t show up for another hour but I can whip you up somethin' simple if you like.” He leans against the counter as he watches you take a seat at one of the bar stools. 

“Whiskey please.”

“Just whiskey?” He looks at you with raised eyebrows as you nod your head. You never felt comfortable in bars back home, the majority of them filled with only men and so the list of mixed drinks intimidated you. The only thing you were comfortable with was bourbon and whiskey as your father always had them in stock in his cabinet. “I like you.” Mingyu grins as he pulls the most expensive bottle of whiskey off the shelfs to pour over ice for you. 

“I’m wonderin'…” You mumble as you pull the glass towards you after Mingyu set it down on a napkin for you. 

“About?” The tall male leans against the counter top. 

“Is it true?” You take a sip of your whiskey and before you can reiterate what you mean, Mingyu beats you to it.

“If the rumors are true?” He shrugs at your scoff. “Most of us workin' aren’t from here… Couple of the girls are from across the pond like yourself.”

“They're American?”

“Well… A little more south. Brazil I think.”

“Are they dancers?” You take another sip of your drink. “I’m assuming that’s what Mr. Choi likes.”

“A few are but one of them is our head chef.” Mingyu hums quietly. “And dancers aren’t Cheols favorite, they're mine.” You laugh quietly at his wolfish grin. 

“Well what does Mr. Choi like?” 

“Well he doesn’t like to be called Mr. Choi, that’s for sure.” He pushes off the counter just as the door to the club opens. “And he likes singers!” He’s quick to rush out as he speed walks around the bar to stand in front of you a little. 

“Wha-” You stop midway through your word as you spin in your chair to see a man dead staring in your direction. 

“Cheol!” 

“Mingyu…” His voice was low and dangerous as he tried to scope you out from behind the tall wall of a man. 

“Hiya boss… Look.” 

“What have I told you about bringin' strays in while I’m not here.”

“C’mon man look at her, she’s smokin'!” He whips around to quickly apologize before he’s turning back towards the man you presumed was Choi Seungcheol. “She wants to sing here.” He doesn’t give anyone a chance to breathe as he steps to the side to give Seungcheol the full view of you. He falters for just a millisecond as his eyes scan you from head to toe before he’s turning to Mingyu. 

“Next time ya bring someone in here without me knowin', I’m cuttin' your pay.”

“Noted.” Mingyu nods quickly. 

“Come with me upstairs.” He doesn’t give you a second glance before he’s walking towards a set of stairs that are blocked off that lead up to the upper level where his office sits.

“So, ya wanna work here?’ Seungcheol wasted no time as he offered the seat in front of his desk for you to sit in. His accent a little different from his friend downstairs and you figured it had to do with the duration of time each had spent in the country. 

“Yes,” you take the seat with a small nod of thanks. “I wanna sing on your stage.” The look Seungcheol gave you as he sat back in his office chair, the slight glare of his eyes as they raked your body, caused shivers to run up your spine. 

“A singer?” He mumbles behind the hand that rested over his mouth as he propped his elbow on the arm of his chair. 

“Yes. I used to sing in New York an-”

“New York? You're American?”

“I... yes,” you mumble. “Is that a problem?”

“No... Not one bit.” He sat up straighter, fixing his coat as he eyed you up again. “My whole staff is foreign, as are my performers.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“My reputation carries, I see.” He smirks. 

“So... Will you let me sing here?” You lean forward a little, letting your chest pop out a little, hopefully his eyes will linger long enough for him to fold. 

“I’ll need to hear you first before I let you on my stage.” His eyes don’t waver from your face, he knew the game you were trying to play - it’s one he’s played plenty of times to get where he was. 

“Oh...” You huff quietly before sitting back in your chair. 

“Don’t sound so disappointed darlin’, I didn’t say no.” He has to bite his tongue to keep from grinning at the way your demeanor changed in seconds. “We’re closed on Sundays, come back then and show me what you got and I’ll decide if I have room for you or not.” 

“Sunday?” 

“What? Don’t tell me you’ve got plans already.” He watched the way you messed with a beat up rosary sticking out of your pocket.

“I didn’t take you for someone that got on their knees for men that were higher than them.”

“Only the rich ones.” You smile back. “But no, I don’t go to church anymore. I just have a date with the eiffel tower.”

“I see, sorry I assumed because I saw the rosary. I’ve only known church goers to carry them.”

“I abandoned the church a long time ago, it just used to be my grandma's, it’s kind of like my good luck charm now.”

“I abandoned the church a long time ago too.”

“Yeah?” Your eyes lit up in curiosity. 

“Times are changing, life’s too short to not love who and what you wanna love.”

“So you swing one way… two ways?...” Your voice trailed off as you tried to guess his preference.

“I swing anyway you want me to, darlin’.” He leans over his desk and rests his chin on the back of his interlocked hands so he can give you a cheeky grin. “We can even invite the idiot downstairs that let you in if that floats your boat…” Your legs squeeze closed at the idea and his eyes can’t help but wander this time. “And I’m sure it does.” 

“So Sunday?” You whisper, your voice getting lost in your throat at the way Seungcheol's eyes looked back up at you through his lashes. 

“Sunday, nine in the morning. Can you do that?” You nod quickly. 

“Yes!” You clear your throat as your voice cracked from the change in volume. “Yes, I can do that.” He laughs a little at your contained excitement as he sits back in his chair again. 

“Good, don’t be late. I expect you to be here the second the clock hits nine and if you’re not… My doors won’t open.”

“Got it... Sir.” You smile sweetly at him, his adam’s apple bobbing a little as he scoffs quietly. 

“Good… Girl. Now go, suns goin down and we open soon.” 

“Right. Well, I’ll see you on Sunday.” You stand up and straighten your shorts before you give him a curt nod and scurry to the door. Just as you open it you turn your head back and give him the cutest smile you could muster. “Thank you, Sir.” 

Before you could get any kind of response from him you close his office door quickly and rush down the stairs, cheering quietly to yourself. You were going to spend the rest of the week anticipating this little “audition.”

“I take it he’s lettin' you in?” Mingyu was leaning against the bar top, a shaggy brown haired male working behind him, cleaning glasses. 

“Well, not exactly.”

“What?” The unknown male stopped what he was doing to look at you wide eyed. “You’re the finest girl to walk through those doors and ask to work here and he just turned you down?” 

“Chan…” Mingyu's voice was laced with warning. 

“Sorry…” He mumbles to you before he goes back to cleaning his cups. 

“It’s alright, I’m used to it.” You shrug with a smile. “But he didn’t turn me down, he just said I have to show him what I got first before I can sing on his stage.”

“First, ya shouldn’t be used to men treatin' you like that, this world is disgusting.” Mingyu pushes off the counter so he can walk you to the door. “And second, Cheol has never allowed just any singers to sing here. You have - ”

“I have to be good, I know.” You smile up at him and pat his arm that was firm under your touch and it took everything in you to not do it again just to feel the muscles that laid under his shirt. 

“Piece of advice...” He mumbles to you as he opens the club’s doors for you. “He likes upbeat songs, things that are funky and out there.” 

“Has he heard of Abba?” 

“Honey... I don’t know who that is.”

“So I know what to play then.” You both mirrored the same grin as you stepped out into the dimming light. 

“Will you be okay walkin' home?” You nod your head as you turn to walk backwards to watch Mingyu watch you walk while he leans against the doorframe. 

“I live close enough to see your neon lights shine!” You call out over the loud roaring of a car passing by. “I’ll be fine!”

“You better be! I wanna see you perform!” He yells back, waving at you as you wave and turn to start to run down the sidewalk in joy. You laugh to yourself, twirling and jumping over the curbs - your dream was one step closer to coming true. 

Sunday couldn’t come any quicker as you spent everyday exploring Paris just to sit at your window and watch the crowd in front of Club Kidult every night. To think that that many people could be lining up next week to hear you sing - if all goes well - when you meet Seungcheol again. 

When you woke up to the sun barely peeking over the horizon, you groaned in frustration. Your little alarm was set to go off in forty more minutes but the excitement of what was going to happen in a couple hours had you jumping up to take a long hot shower. 

You let your hair air dry for a little bit before you set it up in curlers so you could finish off drying them with the fancy new hair dryer you splurged on when you moved here. You could never afford these types of luxuries back home, the prices being drastic. 

You hummed the tune of the song you were going to be performing quietly as you danced around your room getting clothes out so you could change while your hairs cooled off in the curlers - hopefully making your curls last longer. 

“I can’t believe today is the day,” you mumble as you buttoned up your high waisted pants that flared a little at the bottom. Tucking your shirt in a little, you make your way to your front door where all your shoes sat waiting for you to choose from. 

You go back to humming your song as you slip your shoes on, fixing the straps on them before standing up straight to check your makeup in the mirror by your door. You yelp quietly at the sight of your curlers still in before you are carefully rushing to take them down. 

“Can’t believe I almost walked out the house lookin' like a clown.” You laugh quietly at yourself as you go back to your bathroom to hairspray your hair, mumbling that you’ll clean your apartment floors later tonight as you trudged your outdoor shoes through your living room.

Once you were out the door, you all but skipped down the hall, taking the steps two at a time as you happily jumped down them so you could make it to the club on time - early even, which you hoped made a good first impression on the owner. 

“You’re early.” Mingyu chirps from behind you as you make your way up to the front doors of the club. 

“Jesus!” You yelp in surprise.

“Sorry darlin’, didn’t mean to scare ya.” He walks past you to unlock one of the doors. “Cheol ain’t here yet, it’s barely eight.”

“Guess I’m earlier than I thought.” You laugh nervously. 

“He’ll like that. Most of us barely run on time.”

“You’re here early too, though.”

“Actually, between me and you I’ve been here since seven.” He laughs quietly as he hangs his coat over one of the bar chairs. “We have a delivery comin soon and I was supposed to be here waitin' and cleanin'.”

“Well your secret is safe with me.” You smile at him as you watch the way he messes with the clock on some machine on the wall before he’s putting a card through it. “Don’t forget to set that clock back.” 

You watch Mingyu almost break his back as he jerks back around to make sure the punch machine clock reads the same time as the clock on the wall before he’s putting the glass cover back on it. 

“Thank you, darlin'’” He gives you a grin full of teeth. 

“No problem, handsome.” You giggle at the way he puffs his chest out a little at the comment. “If you need any help I obviously have some free time.”

“Just sit there and look cute while I restock the bar to make room for new inventory in the back.” He winks at you. “Wouldn’t want you gettin' hurt before you're supposed to perform for me and the big boss.”

“Lookin' pretty is no fun.” You huff as you sit at the bar just as the club door swings open to let in a bunch of natural light. 

“You must never have fun then.” Seungcheol doesn’t waste a beat as he locks the club door before shrugging his coat off and making his way to the staircase.

“I have plenty of fun, thank you very much.” You cross your arms and watch the way his pants accentuate his ass. 

“Do you now?” He stops in front of his office door to look back at you. “Hard to believe for a pretty face like yours.”

“You think I’m pretty?” 

“Doll… I’d be dumb to not think it.” You can’t help the little happy wiggle you do as Seungcheol turns back around to walk into his office. 

The bar doesn’t stay quiet for long as Mingyu hauls a bunch of boxes from the backrooms that are filled with supplies. 

“We had a busy week.” He drops the last box on the counter in front of you. “Had to call in this month’s shipment early.” 

Your eyebrows rose in curiosity as you peek into the box to view its contents. Packs of little drink umbrellas filled half the box, and with even more curiosity, you pull one of them out. 

“You mind pullin' those all out for me?” Mingyu sets an almost empty container on the counter next to the box that had a couple little umbrellas left. “Just put 'em in there and Chan will unwrap them later.”

A nice silence fell between the two of you as he replaced missing alcohol bottles on the shelves and put more cups under the counter. Mingyu even gave you a box full of straws and told you to wash your hands so you could fill all the straw dispensers with what was left in the box. 

“Are you makin' her work before she’s even hired, Gyu?” Seungcheol walks down the stairs to smile at the sight of you stocking straws and Mingyu stacking more receipt books under the register. 

“Hey, she wanted to help.” Mingyu shrugs as he goes about his business unbothered. 

“It’s fun stocking things.” You shrug in a similar manner as Mingyu without even looking up from the dispenser you're trying to symmetrically stuff straws into. 

“You two are strange.” He shakes his head before sitting at the bar to admire the way you floated behind the counter, moving around Mingyu's clumsy figure like he didn’t even exist. 

“Strange how?” Mingyu scoffs as he finishes his task before turning to stuff the last straw dispenser despite your whining that you were just about to do that one. “There was time to kill before her performance.” 

“There was only time to kill cause someone here is an early bird.” He smiles at the way you cross your arms. “Which is nice… It’s refreshing to see someone here before me.”

“Hey, I was here before you.” Mingyu butts in. 

“It’s a miracle.” Seungcheol raises his eyebrow at the tall male in a manner that challenged him to keep arguing. 

“Fuck face.” Mingyu mumbles under his breath in a playful manner before he starts gathering all the empty boxes to break down and toss out. 

“So.” Once Mingyu took all the trash to the backrooms Seungcheol put all his attention back on you. “Any reason why your early?”

“Gonna complain already?” You lean against the counter so you were closer to his vicinity. Mimicking you, Seungcheol leans forward too – you're so close your breath mingles together. 

“Who said I was complainin'?”

“Well you don’t seem too happy I’m here.”

“Oh darlin’, I’m over the moon.” He smirks at the way you bite your lip, your red lipstick unwavering. 

“Maybe I just wanted some alone time with your little guard back there without any distractions, like you.” You hum playfully. 

“Ouch, you’re hurtin' me doll.” He runs his tongue over his teeth.

“Aw.” You fake pout before you're grinning. “You could hurt me.”

“The only thing I’d hurt on you, doll, are your hips.” 

“Is that a promise?” You lean over the counter, a little more in excitement. Flirting came naturally to you, it was a great way to get what you wanted but you’ve never felt more genuinely attracted to someone like you are to Seungcheol. Before he could respond, Mingyu comes sauntering through the backdoors with his arms full of cleaning supplies. 

‘Great timing, Gyu” Seungcheol pulled away at the same time as you jumped back from leaning on the counter. 

“Sorry,” He looked at you, then his boss before he was dropping the supplies on the counter. “Did I interrupt somethin'?” Neither of you answered, which was enough of an answer for Mingyu as he starts to clean the bar, mumbling another apology to you as you scurried from behind the counter to stand a little awkwardly off to the side of where Seungcheol was sitting. 

“It’s almost time for you to sing for us, need me to set anything up for you?” You shake your head no, you were more than familiar with the systems that were used in clubs like this. “Everything you’ll need is either behind the stage or off to the side, yell if you need me.” 

While you were turning the system and speakers on, you realized you forgot your vinyl record that had the song on it at home. Cursing quietly under your breath you pray that they somehow have the record as you start to flip through the hundreds of vinyl records they had in the back. 

“How the hell are you not gonna have Abba in here?” You whine quietly as you made your way through the last couple of vinyls. “Mr. Choi!” You yell loud enough for him to hear you from behind the stage. You could hear what sounded like the chair hitting the counter (or floor) and Mingyu cursing as Seungcheol’s quick footsteps approach from behind you. 

“Are you okay?” His voice was filled with worry.

“I forgot my record at home and you don’t have it here for me to use in the background.” You huff quietly, a small pout on your lips. 

“Aw darlin'; you gave me a heart attack, I thought you hurt yourself.” Seungcheol sighs in relief. “Just sing without it, wow us even more without the sound.” 

“I haven’t performed for people without the music before.” You mumble, a little self conscious of your raw voice.  

“It’ll just be me and Gyu, you got nothin' to worry about.” He reassures you with a smile. “I’m gonna sit down, come out when you’re ready.” 

When Seungncheol went back out to the front room, you started to pace back and forth. You focused on the melody of the song in your head – you’ve sang this song a million times, both with and without the track, so it shouldn’t be too hard. 

After a couple minutes pass by, you finally take a deep breath and push your nerves down. Without much of a second thought, you walked out onto the stage and up to the mic that was already setup. Seungcheol was sitting at the bar with a glass of what looked like orange juice while Mingyu leaned against the counter to watch you intensely. 

“This song is supposed to be upbea.t so it might not sound as good without the music but,” you took a deep breath. “I’ll be singing Dancing Queen by Abba for you.” 

“You’ve got this!” Mingyu cheered quietly as he smiled encouragingly, while Seungcheol offered a soft smile that calmed you down instantly. 

You did a count in your head before you closed your eyes so you could feel the song deeper before you started to sing. Even without the music playing, you managed to stay on beat almost perfectly and as far as either male knew, the way you were singing the song was exactly how the song was supposed to sound. 

“That was…” Mingyu broke the silence right after you had finished singing before he started to clap and cheer loudly for you. “You’re amazing!” He flicks Seungcheol’s ear to snap him out of whatever trance he was in to give you his thoughts.

“I told you you didn’t need the music playing.”

“Wow you start off with ‘I told you so,’.” Mingyu mocks him playfully which earned him a rather harsh smack and a giggle from you. 

“Well I’m glad you both liked it since I was up here shakin' like a leaf in the wind.”

“Couldn’t even tell.” Mingyu calls after you as you go to shut the system off before joining the two in the front room again. 

“I don’t know what I was expectin' when you said you were a singer.” Seungcheol watches you take a seat. 

“Yeah he’s picky with his women, I mean singers.” Mingyu quickly excuses himself when Seungcheol glares at him hard. 

“Don’t listen to that idiot.” He sighs quietly. 

“It’s ok, I’m picky with my men.” You shrug and smile playfully at Seungcheol as you hop up onto the bar stool that was one away from where he was sitting. 

“Do you wanna sing here Friday nights?”

“Are you serious?”

“It’s just to start off with, if the people like you I’ll book you for more nights.” He takes a sip of his juice to hide his smile as he watches you practically jump in your seat out of excitement.

“I’d love to!” You bite your tongue to keep from squealing too loud. “I’ll remember my record this time.”

“You’ll have to show it to me so I can buy it for here.” You nod your head quickly.

“I can’t believe it,” You smile brightly again, your excitement hard to contain. “Thank you so so much.”

“Of course, don’t disappoint me now, okay?” His voice was playful.

“Never.” You sounded one hundred percent serious.

“Good girl.” He mumbles under his breath before he’s taking another sip of his juice. 

“I should get going now, I still have that date with the eiffel tower and a cafe to get breakfast.”

“Right.” He stands up from his chair so he can walk you out. “The view from the tower is beautiful.”

“So I’ve heard.” 

“You hear a lot of things don’t you, doll?”

“Only good things I fear.” You give him a cheeky smile as you sigh quietly at the feeling of the warm sun hitting your face as you step outside. 

“Well, have fun. I’ll see you Friday?”

“Maybe sooner if you’re lucky.” You can’t will yourself to step away yet. 

“Well I hope I’m lucky then.” He leans against the doorframe, unable to move himself. 

“We’ll see if you are.” A car horn in the distance finally broke you from whatever was keeping you glued there as you stepped backwards down the sidewalk like you did when saying bye to Mingyu the first day you were at the club. “Bye Mr. Choi, See you soon!”

“I hope.” He mumbles to himself as he waves back at you, yelling to be careful as you almost run into a lamp post.

“Bye Darlin’!” Mingyu pushes Seungcheol out the way so he can yell down the road before you were too far out of earshot. 

“Bye Mingyu!” You turn back around to yell. “By the way, my name is Y/N!” Your laugh could be heard even from that distance as you make your way towards the Eiffel tower, flipping off a man who cat-called you from his car. 

For some reason you found it hard to sleep, the birds were extra loud outside your window and the sun had barely breeched the horizon. Groaning for the umpteenth time that morning, you sit up abruptly, your hair a wild mess from all the tossing and turning you’ve been doing. 

“This is stupid.” You mumble before tossing your blankets off your body so you could go to the bathroom to take a shower, hoping it’ll wake you up more.

The market down the street was going to open soon and you were in desperate need of more milk and coffee for your apartment. So when you got out of your shower you didn’t waste too much time in doing your hair, choosing to put it up in a messy ponytail with a red ribbon you recycled from an old christmas present. You didn’t bother with makeup before walking out of the house in a skirt that you cut to sit in the middle of your thighs along with a tank top. 

Strolling down the street slowly, you reminisced a little with what’s happened the last couple of weeks, from you leaving New York and being stuck on a ship for weeks only to land in France where your dreams came true quicker then they ever would in America, the so called place where dreams come true. In the middle of your thoughts, an obnoxious whistle broke you from your trance and an even more obnoxious voice followed. 

“Hi there, sweets.” The thick French -ccented English was slurred by alcohol and you weren’t surprised as you gave him the fakest and sweetest smile you could muster. 

“Don’t fall on your way home.” You wiggled your fingers as you waved him goodbye. Sometimes it was better to hold your tongue and be nice, especially in a foreign setting that you weren’t too familiar with. 

Luckily that was the only thing you had to deal with before making it to your destination. The market was just barely opened, the cashiers and a couple other customers joined you in the rather spacious store for it being so close to downtown. 

“Well hey there, darlin'.’” The grin in the voice made you know instantly who it was. 

“Hi Mingyu.” You put a jar of strawberry preserves into your little wicker basket that you brought with you as a bag. 

“How’dja know it was me?” You looked up at the six-foot-something male with a raised eyebrow. 

“Kiddin' me? I could hear the shameless grin in your voice from a mile away.”

“Touched you can recognize me without even lookin', I must be that good lookin'.” 

“Hardly.” You grin playfully as you move on to look at the selection of bread they had on display today. 

“Ouch, you hurt me darlin’.” He whines and it reminds you of Seungcheol, and a chill ran up your spine at the mere thought of said male. 

“What brings you to the store so early? Thought you weren’t a mornin' person.” You put a loaf of sourdough bread in your basket and look back to see Mingyu's brown mop of hair peeking over the top of the shelf as he moved to the aisle over. Either he’s tall as fuck or the shelves are short, both could be true. 

“Cheol’s been cooped up in his office all mornin stressin', an' being his right hand, it’s my job to stress with him I guess.” He sighs quietly but you still heard it as you moved further away from him to grab some bagels. 

“Stressed?”

“Yeah, immigration is on his ass 'bout papers for all the workers, himself included, so he’s tryin to get his shit straight before someone gets in trouble.” Mingyu pops up next to you to grab himself some bagels. “So bring your papers with you on Friday, darlin’.” 

“I will.” You hum quietly before looking down at the weird assortment of things in his store basket. “Whatcha makin’?” 

“Whatever Cheol is in the mood for later, I love cookin' and it helps him get the stick out his ass.” He shrugs as he moves towards the refrigerated section. 

“You cook?”

“And clean so if yer lookin’ for a husband I’m takin' applications.” He looks at you over his shoulder. “But only for you, darlin’.”

“In your dreams lover boy.”

“I could always dream ‘bout you.” He laughs quietly when you scoff. “Guessin' I’m not your type?” All you can do is shrug.

“Don’t gotta type.”

“Oh?” 

“All they gotta be able to do is make me orgasm I guess.”

“Scandalous.” He checks through a couple packs of eggs before finding one he’s content with. “You and Cheol are similar in that way - as long as they’re kind he doesn’t care much who or what they are.”

“Do you care?” 

“All I care is that they like my cookin’.” You knew you had found your people as you continue to shop with Mingyu trailing behind, picking up items he wasn’t even planning on until he saw you shopping in the section. 

“Are you going back to the club now?” You walk out the store after you argued with Mingyu over him paying for your groceries, him arguing that it was a “welcome to the neighborhood” gift. 

“Only to drop this stuff off.” He holds up his bag of groceries. “Then I gotta go pick up Cheol’s suit from the tailor and pick up some more food that I can’t get at a regular market.”’

“Imports?”

“Fresh fish straight from the ports of Japan and I’m picking up an order I had put in a while back for fresh Gochugaru.” 

“Chili flakes?” You looked at him curiously.

“Yeah... You know Korean?”

“A little, my neighbor was a little old Korean lady and her kids moved across country and didn’t visit anymore, so I’d hang out with her often and she’d teach me Korean.”

“Cute,” Mingyu smiles gently, a huge contrast from the grin he always had. “Me and Cheol were forced to learn English when we had moved here because it was either that or French and one was significantly easier than the other for us.” 

“You speak really well.” 

“Thank you, I try.” You couldn’t help but giggle at the way he puffed his chest out. 

A comforting silence fell over the two of you as you continued to walk down the street in the general direction of where you lived. Reaching a certain intersection you two stop - one way led you the rest of the way to your apartment and the other way led in the direction of the club. 

“Need me to walk you the rest of the way home?” 

“I got it from here Gyu.” You start to walk again in the direction of home, leaving Mingyu to stand there on his own. 

“Gyu...” He smiled happily at you using his nickname. “Be safe! And I’ll be out of the club for at least an hour if you wanted to go visit the stress ball in his office, he could use the distraction!” 

“I’ll consider gracing him!” You call back over your shoulder before waving goodbye to the golden retriever of a man who all but scurried across the street, narrowly missing a car who he quickly cursed at loud enough for you to hear him from down the road. 

It didn’t take you long to get all your groceries put away, the thought of going to see Seungcheol had you moving on auto pilot. Taking a second to freshen up your appearance, you make sure your hair isn’t frizzy before you make your way out of your apartment to walk to the club. 

The streets were unnaturally quiet as you walked in the direction that has become all too familiar to you in the short amount of time you’ve been here. Finally seeing the doors come into view, you realize that Mingyu said he was going to be out, so you had no idea on how you were going to get in. 

“Oh!” Mingyu jumps a little as he opens the door to leave to see you standing there with a look of contemplation on your face. “You came darlin’. ”

“I hope I will be later,” The look of confused curiosity Mingyu gave you made you shake your head with a fond smile, opting to not explain your innuendo. “You said I’d be a good distraction for Mr. Choi so of course I came.”

“Well he’s up in his office, like he has been for hours.” Mingyu sighs quietly as he looks up at Seungcheol’s office in worry before he’s turning to give you a smile. “Like I said, I’ll be out for a couple hours so whole place is to yourselves.”

“Thank you.” You wave him goodbye, wishing him to be safe. 

“Mr. Choi?” You mumble quietly as you knock on his door. It takes a long few seconds for you to get any acknowledgement that he heard you. “I’m comin’ in.” You didn’t give him the option to let you in or not as you open the door slowly to see tired eyes framed by fluffy and tousled hair looking at you. 

“Whatcha doin’ here, honey?” The new nickname sent butterflies a flight in your tummy as you close the door behind you and make your way to stand in front of his desk. 

“Gyu said you were stressin’,” you mumble as you look at all the paperwork spread across his desk. “Maybe you need a break from all this.” 

“I can’t just ignore this all…” He sighs quietly as he runs his hand through his hair for what looks like the millionth time that morning. 

“I’m not saying to forget ‘bout it, just saying you need to relax.” You start to gently and carefully stack the papers into a neat pile before setting it on the corner of his desk. Seungcheol just watches your hands move, even as you slowly move around his desk to stand behind him. “Let me help you, Mr. Choi.”

You hum quietly as you rest your hands on his shoulders and gently pull him to sit back in his chair. Sighing again, Seungcheol lets you do whatever you want as you start to massage at his shoulders - something you picked up from the men that you’d visit that worked on Wall Street. 

“That feels nice.” He mumbles, his eyes fluttering closed as he relaxes into the back of his chair more. 

“Yeah?” You mumble with a smile, a little sultry tone to your voice as you knead a little harder, the knot under your fingertips melting away. Seungcheol groans, satisfied at the tension leaving his body as he curses quietly in Korean causing you to giggle quietly. The words were familiar, your old neighbor having said them a time or two but in an angrier tone. 

“What’s so funny doll?” He opens his mouth, his eyebrow raised in curiosity as he looked up at you. 

“Nothin’ Mr. Choi.” You move your thumbs to rub as the back of his neck, gentler than you treated his shoulders. 

“Y’know, if you keep callin' me Mr. Choi, I might just have to marry you.” He grins a little at the way you squeak in shock. 

“You haven’t even taken me out to dinner yet and yer already proposin’?” You watch as Seungcheol sits up straight and rolls his head and shoulders, sighing in content at the relief he feels. 

“My mother calls my father Mr. Choi, they’ve been married forty years now.” You couldn’t tell if he was joking anymore about the marriage thing as he spun around in his office chair to look up at you. 

“What?” You look down at your outfit to see if there was anything he was staring at as a minute of silence passed by with him just looking at you. 

“You should be on the cover of Vogue instead of in some place like this.” His fingers twitch on his lap as he finally lets his eyes wander farther than your face, but not for long as he’s looking back up into your eyes. Something about the way he held eye contact had your knees feeling weak.  He didn’t look at you like you were a piece of meat but rather that you were the finest chocolates from À la Mère de Famille. 

“I’m not a model sir.” You shrug as you begin to feel shy, something you haven’t felt around a man in a long time. “Besides, I like it here. The workers are hot and the atmosphere is calmin’.”

“The workers?” He raises his eyebrow in a pouting manner. “What ‘bout the owner?”

“Oh, he’s more than hot but you didn’t hear that from me.” You wink, giggling quietly at the way his pout turns to a smirk. 

“Is that so? 'Nother rumor, I suppose.”

“Starting to think it’s not a rumor.” You hum quietly, rocking on your heels a little. 

“Are there any other rumors you wanna prove to be true, darlin’?” He leans back in his chair and manspreads as he props his chin on his hand that’s resting on the armrest. 

“Mm, not rumors per say.” You take an experimental step forward. “More of personal speculation.” 

“Speculation?” He watches you like a hawk, his eyes darkening the closer you get. 

“Can I touch you?” You whisper when you finally stand between his open knees. 

“Fuck…” He groans quietly at the idea. “Thought you’d never ask, darlin’.” He nods his head, giving you approval to touch him. 

Seungcheols adam’s apple bobs a little as he swallows, your fingers lighting a fire under his skin everywhere they ghost. You trailed your fingers up his knees and over his thighs before your palms begin to lay flat against his stomach. When you dig your fingers into the fabric of his dress shirt, Seungcheol flexed, the feeling of you tugging on it gently causes his resolve to crumble. 

“Can I touch you?” It’s his turn to ask as his hands moved to grip at his armrests tightly. 

“‘Course sir,” you whisper as you lean in closer, the scent of your soap filling his senses as his hands move to grab the back of your thighs so he can yank you to sit in his lap in one solid movement. 

“Tell me to stop.” He mumbles as his hands travel up your back so he can pull you closer to his body. 

“Don’t want you to stop.” You mumble as you lean closer to him, your hands leaving his stomach so you can drape your arms over his shoulders. 

“Tell me when then.” He lets you lean in first to kiss and once your lips are on his, he’s spinning his chair around so he can press you against the edge of his desk. Smiling into the kiss you begin to rock and roll your hips in a way that has him hissing and groaning as he pulls away from the kiss.

“You got the hips of a dancer.” He groans at how expertly you moved your lower body against his as he kisses down your cheek and to your neck, something no one has really done before. The time he took kissing and mapping out every inch of your neck until he found your sweet spot had you whining. 

“Told Gyu I was one,” You moan for the first time and it takes everything in Seungcheol to not slam you down on his desk to hear more of your pretty sounds. “Could show you what I got.”

“'Nother day.” He groans as he nips at the sensitive skin behind your ear before pulling away to look you in the eyes. Again the eye contact had your stomach flipping as you swallow the moan in your throat. “God…” He groans, his eyes closing as his hands on your back grip your shirt tightly. 

“Am I a god now  baby?”

“I’ll fuckin' worship you like one.” He growls when you push your hips down harder, the desire growing in every inch of your body as you bite your lip and watch him through hooded eyes. 

“Mmm~” You lean your head back and close your eyes in pleasure when Seungcheol finally grips your hips and grinds up into you. “Fuck daddy.” The name slips off your tongue like the old habit it was, men in America would fall to their knees when the word left your plush lips. 

In the blink of an eye, Seungcheol hoists you up to lay you flat on top of his desk so he can stand between your legs. His pupils were completely blown now, but you were sure yours were too as your thighs squeeze around his hips and he loosens the tie he had on and unbuttons the top buttons of his dress shirt. 

“I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t walk outta here, darlin’.”

“You did say you could bruise my hips daddy, hope you weren’t lyin’.” He haphazardly rolls his sleeves up past his elbows before he’s diving down to kiss you again, this time a lot harsher than the first. 

Moaning into his mouth, you tangle your fingers in his dark hair and tug it when he nips your tongue. All he does is smirk into the kiss and without letting up for much air ,he makes work on undoing his pants in the little room that’s between your bodies. 

You tug his hair hard enough for him to pull away, his eyes half open as he groans at the delicious sting on his scalp. When you let go of his dark locks he stands up straight again so he can push his dress pants down his thighs and make work on tugging your panties off from under the skirt you had on. 

“Tell me where you want me to finish.” He mumbles as he lets his hands travel up your thighs to slowly push your skirt up until it was resting on your stomach. His eyes stared you down like you were an art piece in the Louvre as his hands continued up your body till they were squeezing your boobs through the tanktop you were wearing. 

“Inside.” You could see his cock twitch behind his boxer briefs as his eyes snap up to look at you. 

“You sure darlin’? What ‘bout a kid?” He didn’t seem too nervous about having a kid with you but he was nervous that you might regret it. 

“I’m on the pill.”

“The pill?”

“Yeah, it’s what some of the girls back home would call their birth control.” Your hands reach out to grab the ends of Sungcheol’s dress shirt to try and tug him towards you again, the cold air hitting your exposed pussy making the desire grow even more in you. “Not too sure ‘bout it yet though, haven't had unprotected sex since startin' it but I guess we’ll see if ya knock me up tonight.” 

Seungcheol just smirks at your words and he opens his mouth to make some cheeky little comment but you sit up enough to grab his hair and yank him down to kiss him - shutting him up effectively and kickstarting his gears again as he pushes his hips against yours. The heat of your bare cunt makes his cock twitch more as he groans into the kiss that’s turned a little sloppy but that's just the way you like it as you grind your hips up against his, urging him to finally fuck you. 

“You’re so warm.” He almost whines when he pulls away from the kiss to breathe as he pushes his boxers down enough for his cock to smack up against his stomach. Your mouth waters at the sight and your core pulses at the thought of being filled up more than you’ve ever been. 

“'Nd your big.” You breathe out as he runs the tip of his cock through your folds, letting it nudge against your clit a couple times as he gets all nice and coated in your juices before he’s slipping further down where your entrance greedily sucks him in without much work from him. 

“Fuck.” His hands grip the edge of the desk by your head as his eyes roll a little at how you squeeze around him. It was a familiar feeling but one he hasn’t felt in a long time and he can say with ease that it’s never felt this good before and he’s barely bottomed out. 

“Move please.” You beg, the feeling of being split open made your brain go fuzzy and your mouth fill with drool as you choke on a moan when he slowly slides out till just the tip sits in your entrance. Just when you went to complain about him leaving you empty, he’s slamming back into you, jostling his desk and knocking the papers down that you had stacked up. “Fuck!” Your voice was high pitched and whiny as he definitely set a bruising pace early on. 

“That’s it, take it doll,” He groans into your ear as he kisses and nips at your cheek and ear. “So good.” He moves one of his hands to trail down your side where it rests on your hip. 

Your voice got lost in your throat as all you could do was moan and whimper a pathetic “Yes daddy,” every few seconds and every time you said it Seungcheol would find a new angle to make you say it louder and he’d accompany it with a smack to the side of your ass cheek - and when he felt like that side had enough attention hed switch to the other side. 

“You’re getting tighter baby.” He moans instead of groans this time which causes you to squeeze around his cock tighter, the sound sending shockwaves through your body. 

“So good~” You moan as you claw at his shoulders and scalp which draws more moans from him as he feels his orgasm approaching like a freight train. 

“Oh fuck.” His hips stutter a little as he digs his nails into your hip to keep a grip on you as he quite literally fucks you into his desk. 

“Right there daddy, fuck.” You gasp and lean your head back and bite your lip, your orgasm right there. “Daddy!” You squeal when he angles his hips up a little and hits your g-spot with precision, which finally draws you over the edge. 

The force of your orgasm pulls Seungcheol over the edge with you as he groans your name lowly into your ear followed by gentle kisses to the side of your head as he continues to fuck his cum into you until both of your orgasms have been ridden out. Slowly he manages to pull himself from your grasp as he hisses at the loss of your warmth wrapping around him. 

Pride swelled in Seungcheol’s chest as he looked down at your worn out state, your hair was a mess and little love bites adorn your neck like a necklace. The cherry on top of everything though was the way his cum seeped out of your weeping cunt and it has his cock twitching again. 

“Still think I belong on Vogue?”  You mumble a little shyly as you looked at the way he was just staring at you as you slowly sit up. When you hissed quietly he was quick to jump forward and help you. 

“I’ll always think that,” He smiles as he picks your panties up from where he dropped them and helped you slip them on while you were still sitting on his desk. “You’re gorgeous, doll.”

“Well I feel like I belong on Playboy,” You roll your eyes playfully at your own little joke towards yourself before you're smiling up at Seungcheol as you reach forward to fix his shirt as he tucks himself back into his boxers and pants. “And thank you, you're not too bad yourself sir.” He makes a little noise at the title. 

“What’s Playboy?” He mumbles as he rubs soothingly at your hips while slowly helping you off his desk where you stand on wobbly legs. 

“I’ll explain it later.” You giggle quietly before your stomach interrupts by rumbling. “I’m hungry now.” 

“Sure it’s not a baby in there?” You laugh at him while smacking his side. 

“Don’t jinx it or I’ll never get to have that threesome you promised me.” You joked playfully. 

“Oh we’ll still have that threesome, darlin’.” He grabs his coat to drape it over your shoulders as he helps you walk to the door of his office. “But I don’t take too kind to sharin’ what’s mine.”

“Does that mean I’m yours?” He shrugs as he looks down at you. 

“Are ya?” You try to hide your smile by biting your lip as you walk ahead of him down the stairs. 

“Maybe I am.” You finally hum as you turn to look at him once you made it to the bottom of the stairs. “Does that mean you’re mine?”

“Maybe it does.” He smiles at you as he stops directly in front of you and grabs your hips to pull you against his body. “Never felt like this for someone so quick, like hell I’d let you go.” He mumbles before he’s kissing you gently, one of his hands moving up to cup the side of your face as your hands cup the sides of his neck gently. 

“Well,” Mingyu’s voice was laced in a pout as he opened the door of the club, his arms full of bags. “Havin’ fun without me? I’m hurt.”

“Great timing, Gyu.” Seungcheol mumbles against your lips with a huff. You giggle quietly and pull away from Seungcheol completely to go and try and help Mingyu with what he was carrying. If it wasn’t for the look Seungcheol gave him he would’ve fought you harder to do it all himself. 

“Did you get all your ingredients for lunch?” You hum as you follow the tall male into the kitchen, where he directs where to put the stuff you were holding. 

“Yeah, the market wasn’t that packed yet thankfully, but it also meant I wasn’t as gone as long as I thought.” He turns his head to look at you over his shoulder with a sheepish grin. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be, we had plenty of time.” You snort at the way he almost fell when he whipped around to face you fully. “I’m hungry though so I’ll tell you the details later.”

“Deal, guess I gotta make a heavier lunch to make up for all the energy you two burnt.” He goes back to putting the groceries away, leaving you to wander back into the main room of the club where you expected Seungcheol to be but it was empty. Huffing quietly you sit at the bar and squeak a little at the feeling of your thighs becoming wet from the mess Seunghceol left in your panties. 

“Sorry, I had to go grab somethin' from my office.” Seungcheol joins you in sitting down not even a minute after you had sat down. 

“What is it?” You question curiously as he sets a small box in front of you. 

“A welcome gift, was gonna give it to you Friday, but guess you were right about seein' you sooner.” He smiles as you happily open the box only to close the lid quickly and slid it back towards him.

“No.”

“No?” He tried to not sound hurt.

“That looks too expensive.” He seemed to be a little relieved at this answer. 

“Don’t worry 'bout my money doll, besides you’re worth it.” He opens the box himself and pulls the little bottle of Chanel N°5 perfume. He opens the cap and gently grabs your wrist so he can spray a little bit onto it. 

“I’ve never heard of Chanel.” You mumble as you bring your wrist up to smell the perfume and you almost sigh at how good it smells. 

“Everyone is gonna know Chanel after they meet you.” He mumbles as he carefully puts the cap back on and puts it back in the box for you. 

“Thank you, Sir.”

“Cheol.” You look at him with raised eyebrows.

“You can call me Cheol when it’s just us and Gyu, and maybe Chan but he might tease me for it so try to refrain if you can.” He sighs quietly at the younger male’s antics. 

“Ok Cheol.” You smile, loving the taste of his nickname on your tongue and Seungcheol seemed to like it just as much as his adam’s apple bobs. 

“Ok love birds, try to not fuck on the bar please, don’t have time to disinfect it all.” Mingyu barges through the back door just as Seungcheol had leaned in to kiss you. 

“It’s my bar, Gyu.” Seungcheol glares at him as he sits up straight. 

“Not while I’m here, friend.” He laughs as he grabs three glasses so he could pour you all drinks. 

“Was thinking of making gochujang garlic noodles with some bulgogi and kimchi on the side.” Mingyu hands you your glass.

“That sounds amazing, I haven’t had kimchi and bulgogi since the night before I left.” You take a small sip of your whiskey, the warmth filling your body.

“You’ve had those things before?” Seunghceol looks at you curiously while he takes a sip of his alcohol. 

“Yeah, my neighbor was Korean and she’d cook all the time for me.” You give him a smile as you take another sip. 

“She even knows a little Korean!” Mingyu chirps up as he goes back to the kitchen with his glass of plain cranberry juice. 

“You do!?” He looks ecstatic as he jumps in to quizzing you on all the words you know while also teaching you a couple of his own favorite words while you two wait for Mingyu to finish cooking you lunch.

feedback + reblogs greatly appreciated, especially if you enjoyed the fic!

[ivystoryweaver]

3 Times Jake Lockley Tried to Kill You and 1 Time He Saved Your Life

Part 1 of 5 - Knife

Miniseries Masterlist || Main Masterlist || next

Pairing: Jake Lockley x f!reader

Summary: Jake has been hired to assassinate you - the daughter of Chicago's most powerful and corrupt man

Or: If at first you don't succeed, try, try again.

Word Count: 2.5k

Content: nsfw, mdni, more below the cut, READ the warnings. Dead dove - you will get what is warned!

There is no non-con in this fic, but it's dark in the sense that the reader IS in real danger from Jake. Violence, language, stalking, blood, knife play, also actual knife use - like for its intent - stabbing, danger, sexy dreams, glove kink, masturbation, not beta'd

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

The second time Jake saw you up close, he darkly chuckled to himself at how easy of a mark you were.

Everyone in his line of work knew who you were - the beautiful daughter of the most powerful man in the city. And your father had endless enemies.

Including the one who hired Jake to take you out. Jake's boss was a lot of things, but he wasn't stupid. To assassinate the most powerful mob boss' only daughter required someone removed from the situation. Someone professional. Invisible.

Jake wasn't stupid either. There wasn't enough money in this city to lure him into crossing your father.

No, this was plain, old fashioned revenge. So maybe Jake's boss was stupid - this was personal, for Jake anyway.

So tonight, as he saw you walking out of a club with your girlfriends, your inept bodyguards flanking you, he sneered.

You had style - that, Jake had to admit. Your dress fit you like a glove, but landed an inch or so longer than your obvious minions’ skirts. The girls around you were trying too hard. You didn’t have to.

They flocked to your power and your money (or your father's), but the attempt was desperate, at best.

But you held yourself with a self-assurance and something Jake had no idea he was interested in until he'd started tailing you: class.

Your eyes shone as your laughter rang out into the night. You must’ve been a little tipsy, if the glow of your cheeks was any indication.

The bodyguards - who Jake mentally referred to as Dumb and Dumber - ushered the small group of you into a waiting car.

Jake thought about it: driving you. Using his day (or night) job to get close to you. Too complicated. You had a faithful driver, well paid, who had shuttled you around the city practically all your life. Then, of course there were Dumb and Dumber and the other girls to...dispose of.

So no driving. Not this time.

You rarely ventured out alone, but Jake had discovered your quietest moments. You lived in a hotel, actually - one of your father's - in a penthouse, with, at least, adequate security.

So, no home invasion. That made Jake feel like a creep anyway, and he wasn't a creep. He was a professional.

He found the easiest access to you would likely come during one of your early morning jogs in the park, or while you liked to shop or run errands during the day.

In fact, he walked right by you just yesterday.

That was the first time he saw you up close.

You were even more beautiful up close.

Yesterday, he simply wanted to see if Dumb and Dumber would notice how close he got. He was also checking out the lack of security cameras in the park.

He had to do this right. And even then, he would flee afterward. He hated this city anyway.

Fucking Chicago. Every horrible thing in his life went wrong in this city. New York never treated him so poorly. And besides, the alter in his head preferred life across the pond. So, finishing this job would be the perfect excuse to never return.

So the next morning, he arrived in the park before sunrise. Sure enough, you came jogging round the corner, an unsafe number of strides ahead of Dumb and Dumber. Or...it was only Dumber this time. One bodyguard? Seriously, this was too easy.

All it took was a gloved hand around your mouth and a knife to your ribs to get you where he wanted you, into the dense thicket, away from prying eyes.

You struggled, but Jake’s experience won out. He used the tip of his knife to inflict the slightest twinge of pain.

"I can make this almost painless," he breathed on your ear.

You whimpered, angry with yourself for going limp in his arms as you felt the pinch of pain in your ribs.

However, you're weren't stupid either. If he wanted to kill you, he would have dragged that blade across your jugular with your mouth still covered. You would bleed out silently and he would have plenty of time to escape before your bodyguard found you.

His annoying poke to your ribs and striking up a conversation meant he wanted something else and that's why you shuddered. This was a kidnapping or an assault. Or he was a sick freak who wanted to play with his food first.

He whirled you around and pushed you up against a tree, crowding in front of you, with your mouth still covered.

The tree's bark scraped against your bare legs, but cold, dark eyes which - under different circumstances, might have captivated you - momentarily distracted you.

Distinguished nose - mouth set in a thin line, strong, square jaw with a beard - well kempt. Dark brown curls peeked out of a flat cap. He almost looked like something out of the 1930's when you really thought about it.

Which...given the circumstances, why in the hell were you thinking about his looks?

Finding your courage, you tried to speak against his gloved hand. He positioned the knife at your throat - finally a more useful spot - and breathed against your cheek. "Scream and it'll be your last word, doll."

You nodded quickly, trying to blink back the moisture in your eyes. Your father was going to end this asshole, but you might suffer mightily first.

Slowly, Jake removed his hand, keeping it close to your mouth in case you got any ideas.

"Why didn't you just cut my throat?" You gasped, your chest heaving, drawing his eyes momentarily down to the fit of your sports bra and your chest, glistening with a light sheen of sweat.

"Are you offering suggestions?" One dark eyebrow shot up, almost comedically.

"It would be the quickest and quietest way," you confessed, shrugging one shoulder. "I'm just trying to see what I'm in for. You want me to beg or something? Cry? Just tell me and get it over with."

Jake chucked.

Oh. So he was a condescending asshole. Awesome.

Still, he didn't taunt you or threaten you, which probably meant ... damn it.

"Aw hell, you're a pervert then?" You scoffed. "I'm not a virgin, if that's what you're hoping."

That puzzled your captor, but only for a moment. " - no," he scoffed. "That's not something I have to...coerce."

You rolled your eyes, but made sure to keep still because that knife tip was starting to dig into your throat. "I'm sure you're a real catch. Just get this over with. My bodyguard will be here soon."

The corner of Jake's mouth curled. "Trust me, I'm not worried about him."

You shivered slightly, realizing he'd done his homework. "What do you want?" You managed, a little more desperately than you were hoping to sound.

"Revenge," he evenly responded

You locked eyes and saw honesty there.

You slightly nodded, swallowing hard as his breath ghosted your cheek.

"W-what did I do to you?"

Jake's eyes darkened as he pulled the blade from your throat and positioned it right over your heart.

"Your father killed my brother."

Wetting your lips, you whispered, "I'm sorry. I-I don't know anything about that."

"'Course you don't," Jake sneered. "But your father does."

"So I have to pay for your brother's life with my own?" You hurriedly reasoned. "You think that will make my father suffer the way you have? There's no way. I don't even think he loves me." Your voice was now dripping with panic, but Jake started to admire the way you fired off protests.

"Nice try," Jake scoffed. "Everyone knows you're daddy's pride and joy. You're the only way to his heart."

"Then do it," you spat. "I hate all this Criminal Minds villain discourse bullshit. Just put us both out of our misery."

"Villain?" Jake huffed. "I'm the villain? Your father has corrupted this entire city! And you benefit from every cent and every life he takes. You're the villain - both of you."

"Then what are you fucking waiting for?" You hissed, jerking against him, causing the knife to slip and slice your chest.

"Shit!" You cried out, your hands flying to cover your wound, which was only superficial, but still hurt like hell.

The gloved hand clamped back over your mouth as the knife tip dragged down your sternum to just under your ribs once more. Without hesitation, he pushed the blade into your abdomen.

You screamed into his hand, tears streaming down your face. Your body flamed with searing pain as you went limp in his arms.

"Shhh, shh, sweetheart. It's only enough to slow you down. You'll live. Promise."

And he fucking left you there.

With his knife inside you.

Oh your father was going to crucify this asshole.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

You spent hardly any time at all in the hospital - the wound was so insignificant. Still, you were stabbed so it warranted medical attention and your father was furious. He attempted to double security around you and forbade you from leaving your penthouse.

You indulged him for a day or so but you weren't one to be caged. He'd made your life enough of a living hell. You felt scared all the time, always a pressure point for him - a bargaining chip for his enemies.

You didn't tell him about the bouquet of tulips you received from your attacker, with a note that read, 'Did you keep what I left inside you?'

The next day, gardenias arrived with another note. 'I'll show you how to use it sometime.'

Okay, so maybe you were stupid. Because instead of turning the notes over to your father, or even the police (not likely), you kept them to yourself.

The most intriguing thing about this mystery man was how he was managing to get these flowers and notes past your (obviously shit) security.

You dreamed.

He's pinned you up against the tree. His gloved hand applies pressure to your throat. The tip of his knife blade traces lightly over your bottom lip, before he drags it down the smooth column of your throat. He trails down your chest, raking it between your breasts before slicing right through your sports bra. Your breasts spring free and his eyes darken. He grazes your nipple with the blade - the cool metal electrifying your peak, making it go stiff.

His grip on your throat loosens as he pushes gloved fingers up over your jaw and slips his leather clad digits into your mouth. His eyes find yours again as you obediently suck without being asked.

He pushes his fingers to the back of your throat, gagging you, which makes him smirk.

Then he surprises you by taking his hand out of your mouth and pushing the hilt of the knife into your palm.

"Hold this for me, baby," he instructs, roughly shoving his sopping wet glove - wet with your spit - into your tight leggings, slipping them between your already soaked folds.

Your hand shakes as you realize you have the power - you have the knife and you can get away. You can hurt him back, like he hurt you.

Without another thought, you jab the knife into his side, even as his gloved thumb circles your clit.

"That's my girl," he pants as blood pools and spills through his crisp, white dress shirt. You yank the knife back out, puzzled, but your brain is starting to short-circuit from the wildest fingerfucking you've ever experienced.

You try to whisper his name, wondering if he'll be okay, but you realize - you don't even know his name. You have no inkling whose fingers are stuffed inside your cunt, even as you grind down on his palm, riding his glove like a toy.

You woke up covered in sweat, slick heat pooled between your legs even as your belly filled with shame.

Without another thought, you reached into your nightstand drawer for the knife he left inside you.

You yanked your nightgown aside, gently running the cool metal over your nipples, just the way he'd done in your dream.

You shoved your fingers into your mouth, just like he had, and once they were sopping you slid them into your silky panties and rubbed your clit furiously.

"Oh god," you moaned, writhing, carefully scraping the knife across your other nipple before a nasty idea formed. You used the knife handle and pushed it down over your clit with two fingers of the opposite hand stuffed inside you.

You felt wrong - disgusted with yourself. The man wasn't being sexy - this wasn't some fantasy of a dangerous man in the woods. He had no interest in you. He threatened you - stabbed you, for fuck's sake. Who knew what else he was capable of? He could've taken advantage of your body or sliced your throat.

And now he'd sent the flowers and messages. So he was probably a stalker. This would escalate and be dragged out, just like you'd wanted to avoid.

He was probably watching you right now.

...which, to your utter shame made you feral.

You moaned so loudly, you were sure your bodyguards would rush in.

"Can you see me?" You panted, repulsed with yourself, but so close, rubbing the blunt end of the knife faster and faster over your clit as you shoved your fingers as deep as they would go.

One more thought of that horrible man plunging his knife in you and your back arched euphorically as a powerful orgasm wracked your body - as good as any with your array of top-of-the-line toys.

As you lay there panting, wondering how you would rid yourself of this shameful new obsession - masturbating to a man who wanted revenge against your father - who attacked you and honestly, showed no real interest in you - you decided you needed a way to reach him.

He was able to get to you somehow, by sending you flowers and notes.

So the next day, you instructed your staff to return a wrapped, sealed box to whomever delivered flowers, and you paid handsomely to make sure the box got back to the sender.

It may never make it to the mystery man, but you had to try.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

"I told you - you can't come back here," Jake scolded the young delivery boy.

"Sorry, mister. That lady gave me a ton of money to bring this to you."

Fortunately, Jake had met up with this little idiot on a street corner and not near where he lived, nor near his car. He also used a false name.

It was risky enough sending things to you, but you got under his skin.

He knew this was all a bad idea. His boss wanted you dead and Jake wanted his revenge for Randall.

But here he was, behaving like a pathetic stalker, sending you flowers and creepy notes, bypassing your security.

And now you sent something back?

Jake pulled the lid from the box and almost choked. It was his knife. Something had...dried on the handle, along with what he could only assume was still your blood on the blade. And there was a handwritten note.

'I came on it.'

next

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Jake Lockley-Centric stories

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[wakkoroni]

I want y’all to imagine Nico, after the battle of manhattan, all alone, roaming around and being homeless pretty much. He probably did some stuff to stay alive/ did some stupid stuff cause he was a) young and alone and innocent and b) IN THE WRONG CENTURY

Imagine like Nico revealing the shit he’s done to like the seven (plus Will but I feel like Will would already know)

Nico: yeah so like I learned the “don’t take candy from strangers” the hard way

Percy; what the fuck does that mean

Nico: um so after the battle of manhattan went down and I left, things have changed in society that I didn’t know about. And the fact that I was in a whole different continent didn’t help either. So uh in the 1930s, it was all talk about how the future was going to be great and how everyone’s problems will be solved

Percy: yeah?

Nico: right so uh I’m walking down the New York, being my little depressed self-

Jason: *trying not to laugh*

Nico: -and this guy walks up to me and he said “you look like your having a tough times” and pulls out this baggy with like a pill inside, and says “here this should take all your sorrows away, for a just a few hours and if you need more you just have to find me”

Annabeth: you didn’t-

Nico: looking back at this I should’ve known, but then again how would I have known? No one taught me this shit. And he phrased it like this really cool invention and in my head I’m like oh wow times really has changed

Will: babe you are a idiot and I’m surprised you even still alive

Nico, laughing: me too actually- I should not have lived past a lot of stuff but anyway I took it and thanked him and ummmmm one minute I was in the streets of New York and the next I was in the back of a cop car in Jersey with a headache.

Jason: YOU GOT ARRESTED?

Nico: yup. But legally I don’t exist and I still don’t cause I managed to run away before they could get my DNA or smth idk the process and then went back to New York and tried to find the guy again

Percy: why would you try and find him?

Nico: so I could get more? But either I just have a horrible sense of direction or he vanished cause I couldn’t find him anymore

Jason: the city’s confusing streets saved you from an addiction

Nico: no actually-

Percy, still trying to wrap his head around this: wait so no one warned you about taking drugs?

Nico: I didn’t even know what they were, well that’s kind of a lie I knew that they existed but I didn’t know what they looked like?

Percy: and the baggy didn’t seem suspicious?

Nico: it was a free sample

Percy: I- I don’t even know what to say

Nico: to be fair they treated the common cold with like cocaine back in my day so-

Percy: dude- *turns to Will* you don’t seemed surprised by this

Will, shrugging: wait til you hear about the “friend” he made

Nico, clapping his hands together: that’s a story for another time, hopefully never

Annabeth: I want to know-

Will: you really don’t-

Nico: if you thought this was bad the other was way worse

[al-of-the-stars]

poly vees! poly vees! where everyone loves eachother

anyways, the vee's find themselves attracted to an imp!reader (maybe only one or two at first). i love the upper class x lower class dynamic ajhs

the imp was originally just trying to be a thief in peace and rob them, but they get caught in the process.

gn! reader is more desirable but you can go for a fem or male reader if you want!!

-🍋 anon

"Stole our hearts. (and our money lol)"

A/n: Hi, 🍋! This reminded me a bit of Blitzo and Stolas from Helluva Boss lol Ik I said this before but I'm not too familiar with poly relationships so I'm so sorry if I got anything wrong! I did gn reader but I did mention reader wearing one of Velvette's dresses so I hope it doesn't make anyone uncomfortable! Hope you enjoy!!

Imps were never respected in the hell hierarchy. How ironic that the ones who fucked up enough to get sent here are treated better than the innocent demons who never even got a chance at life in the first place. This was the reason you decided to become a thief. If no one was willing to hire the lowlife so that you could make an honest living, you would steal to live a comfortable life. You weren't a Saint by any means but you weren't evil enough to steal from your own kind, only people who either deserved it or people who could afford to be stolen from. That includes overlords, and more specifically, your latest victims, the Vees. They were known for their social influence on the residents of hell, but you didn't really care much since overlords only live in the pride ring and imps usually residents in Imp City in the wrath ring. That, however, doesn't mean you won't travel there and take their shit. You were currently at Vee Tower late at night. Everyone was asleep so you had the perfect chance to do your job and quickly scurry off, or at least that's what you thought, You usually work fast but that doesn’t take into account the time constraint of Vox’s new security system. The moment you touched the vase, a loud alarm rang and a few seconds later, Vox and his tired partners came up to you. 

“What do you think you're doing,” Vox said, his business smile faltering. Shit. You underestimated this guy's inventions. “Oh.. uhhh..” you were at a loss for words. What were you even supposed to say? ‘Hey I was about to steal this vase that you own’? Absolutely not. Luckily for you, they didn't seem to mind as much as you thought they would. Little did you know that every time you had stolen from the Overlords, they had known you were there. Although they didn't exactly appreciate you stealing their belongings, they had taken a bit of a liking towards you. Even when being mischievous little shit, you still had a sort of charm. Like when you were stealing one of Vox's newest prototypes and spent 10 whole minutes trying to figure out what it did before giving up and furiously putting it in the bag. Or that time you stole one of Velvette's dresses and before putting it in the bag you put it on, just for funsies. She had to admit, you didn't look half bad in her designs, maybe when you finally date them, she can ask you to model for her. And the time you tried to steal one of the blankets from one of Val's studios, which surprisingly sell for a lot. You hurriedly put it in the bag, trying to touch it as little as possible, who knows what things people had done in those blankets. They slowly fell for you one by one, maybe next time, they can finally ask you out. Once they give you the world, you finally won't have to steal their things.

[chasingfictions]

the pink pony club -> naked in manhattan -> california -> guilty pleasure run is so fucking insane every time . like. story song about longing for the gay coast from the heartland and then you get there and you'll always miss where youre from and it will always be in you but you'll never go fully back either, the queer freedom you have in santa monica is too good and too much and everything you've ever wanted, it called you here from across thousands of miles. then meanwhile back in real life but also not real life chappell is on the other coast the other major city experiencing a different kind of first taste of queer living, only it's never happened yet, it's a dream song it lives in the almost, she had never kissed a girl yet when the song was written, she was still dating a man and dreaming about what she wanted her life to be, and even in the song, the queer desire is so close, it's in the air, but also you can't tell if it's really happening or if it's just another daydream. and then we're back in california and it's so real this time and it just hurts and the dream wasn't what you wanted it to be, and home is calling to you, home can give you things this place can't and never could and never will, and also you feel like you're letting everyone down by going back, this is supposed to go the other way, and part of that, from the context of the previous two songs is like, well were the desires not enough? is the big flashy life you were supposed to go live in a place that can give you these other things not enough? was this dream about your life being different actually just a dream did it just hurt?

and then ending on a treatise on desire itself, and like, why does the pleasure feel guilty, your home put that in you, your home made it feel like a bad thing to feel, bad thing to want, but you come back to it anyway. and this time the desire is physical in front of you. you're not telling a story about a girl from tennessee who runs away to be a drag queen at a mythical club, you're not telling a daydream about how in new york you're allowed to be gay and maybe some friendship with a girl could turn into more, you're not wistful about all the might-have-beens in california or the midwest you fled to get there. like you are still fantasizing but also you're watching someone try on jeans and their body is Right There. your body is in the room and you can't deny that you feel this. and also while all the three previous songs were so rooted in specific geography, this time you could be anywhere -- learned it on the internet. you could still be home in the midwest, you could be out at some coastline far away, you could be at a million other somewheres.

but no matter where you are, this desire will be there, you will always pursue this want, there's no version of you who wouldn't want this. you were always going to find a way here. and you want it forever. it may be bad for you and you may not be supposed to belong here but you're gonna make yourself belong because you want it forever. i want this like a cigarette can we drag it out and never quit. um!!!!

[dyns33]

The Big Nice Punisher

I never gave love to Frank and Frank only in a story so I decided to change that

Y/N should have gotten used to it, now that she was friends with Matt, Foggy and Karen.

It had happened several times that the devil of Hell's Kitchen had knocked on her window to ask for a medical kit since she knew his secret, even if the fool preferred to die in a trash rather than ask his friends for help.

It had taken everyone's intervention to force him to admit that he had a problem, and that he could count on them if he wasn't being chased by an army of ninjas.

More than stubborn, his priority was above all to ensure that he did not bring any danger into their home.

Karen wasn't Matt.

She didn't want her friends to be in danger either, but her moral compass was visibly broader, and allowed her to do more things.

Like coming to Y/N with the Punisher losing a lot of blood, asking if she could hide him for a few days and make sure he was still breathing.

Y/N had followed Frank Castle's trial on television, like the whole city. She had heard about all the people he had killed, but also the people he had saved. She had heard what happened to his wife and children. And above all, she had read in all the newspapers that he was dead.

“Can you explain to me or are you going to tell me it’s better if I know as little as possible ?” she asked as she helped Karen place him on her couch.

"Actually, I don't know. I found him like this when I came home from work. Your apartment was closer, excuse me. He doesn't want a hospital, for obvious reasons, and I was afraid he wouldn't manage to get to my place."

"Okay. Just promise me he won't jump on me when he wakes up."

“Frank is very nice, don’t worry.”

'Nice' probably wouldn't have been the first word Y/N, or anyone, would have used when talking about the Punisher, but Karen was pretty good at judging people, and that was out of the question to leave him to die anyway.

Even if she managed to see the good in him, it still seemed a bit exaggerated and even very optimistic that Karen would decide to leave Frank Castle unconscious in a stranger's house. She took the time to write a little note, telling Y/N that she could show him if he didn't trust her, but repeating that everything would be fine.

If he didn't have a reason to hurt her, he wouldn't hurt her. Really very reassuring.

Sure enough, the Punisher woke up in a panic as Y/N was making dinner, looking around with wary eyes and grimacing when he saw her. His first instinct was not to attack her but to try to flee, but his injury did not allow him to reach the door, his path ending in the middle of the living room.

“Karen warned me this would happen.” Y/N sighed, hesitating to put down her knife.

"Who are you ? Where am I ? Where is Karen ?"

“In order, I'm Y/N, you're at my house, and Karen had a job emergency so I'm babysitting for her.”

“I don’t need a fucking babysitter.” he groaned, holding his leg.

"Look, you don't want to be here, I'm not really happy about it either, but if you let me help you, you can leave quickly."

"I'm leaving now."

"Oh, no way ! I promised Karen I wouldn't let you die and I feel like you're just as stupid as Matt, so you're going to rest your ass on the couch, you're going to eat, then I'll see if you haven't reopened your wound !'

"… Yes Ma'am."

The terrible Punisher then began to look like a little lost dog, speaking little and accepting the plate that Y/N offered him, thanking her with a nod, his big black eyes following her as soon as she moved in the room.

He insisted that he could take care of his leg, but just one look made him shut up again, letting Y/N do what she wanted, since he obviously had no choice.

"I'm not a doctor, but between your broken ribs, the bullet that was in your leg, and the other marks on your body, I will say that it would be best for you to rest for a few days before you start punishing people again."

“No time to wait.”

"That wasn't a suggestion, doctor's orders."

“You just said you’re not a doctor.” he said with a smirk.

“I’ll tie you to the bed if I have to.”

“I’d love to see you try.”

In the end, his leg was causing him too much pain and Karen had forbidden him to move over the phone, it was decided that Frank Castle would stay with Y/N ​​for at least a week. He seemed to be the most annoyed by the situation.

Both women were right about him : he was nice, and he was like Matt. He didn't like asking for help, and he was afraid of putting innocent people in danger by his mere presence.

Yes, he had tried to find Karen when he was injured, but Karen knew how to defend herself, and he would have found a way to convince her to let him go. He didn’t know Y/N. He didn't like the idea of ​​intruding into her home, into her life, into her world, even if Red wasn't far away.

"I also know how to defend myself if necessary, Mr. Castle."

"Of course Miss. And it's Frank."

“I can do the dishes by myself too, Frank.”

“I have no doubt about that, but I’m squatting on your couch, it’s the least I can do.”

A week might not seem like much, but aside from her colleagues and the trio, Y/N didn't see many people. This daily proximity to Frank made the atmosphere strange.

He always spoke little, almost never about himself, hiding his wounds like a proud animal, but being interested in her, not missing an opportunity to help her around the apartment as a sign of gratitude, and listening to her talk about her days with patience and sympathy.

It was almost difficult when his condition allowed him to leave. They had gotten used to each other and the separation gave them as much pleasure as their meeting.

Still looking like a puppy who didn't know how to behave, Frank gave her his number, just in case, taking hers if he needed to check on her. He wouldn't call her for a favor, it wasn't like him.

Obviously, his style was to stop giving any news at all and to completely disappear from people's lives.

Y/N could try to understand. He was dead in the eyes of society, he had a complicated past, his main occupation was murdering criminals… But all the same, a little message from time to time wasn't complicated.

The worst part was that he was in contact with Karen. Her friend seemed surprised that he hadn't contacted her. According to her, Frank loved her very much.

"He's shy, that stupid man. I'll tell him to call you."

"No, that's not necessary. I'm glad to know he's okay."

"Don't be ridiculous, you want to talk. He also asked me about you, I should have known he would do that."

Y/N probably should have too, but because in hindsight she didn't see why someone like Frank Castle would want to keep in touch with her. She had been useful, nothing more. Next to Karen, beautiful, intelligent Karen who he had known for a long time, Y/N didn't stand a chance.

There was also his family, for whom he had sacrificed everything. If he was only "friends" with Karen, there had to be a reason and that was because he refused to betray his dead wife.

This enchanted parenthesis of a week had been nothing other than a parenthesis.

It was stupid to be so sad for a man she had only seen for a week. And yet, Y/N was sad. So sad that she didn't pay attention to the time while having a drink at Josie's.

No doubt she forgot that despite the presence of Daredevil, Hell's Kitchen remained a dangerous place. Matt couldn't be everywhere.

So it wouldn't have been a surprise when she was followed by two guys, who cornered her in an alley and threatened her with a knife so that she would give them her bag. Then one of them looked at her with a funny look and licked his lips, and she tried to run away.

Before they could touch her, the first one had his head smashed against the wall. The other screamed, trying to defend himself with his knife, but the weapon ended up in his leg, and he was knocked out with a punch.

Slowly so as not to frighten her further, Frank helped her up, checking her for injuries and returning her things.

"Are you alright ?"

"Yes. I was careless."

“Not your fault, sweetheart.”

"I guess we're even now." she tried to joke, while sobbing. Y/N hoped he would think it was because of the shock, and not because she thought she wouldn't see him again afterwards.

This didn't make him laugh. He looked at her with his sad, worried eyes, shyly rubbing her shoulder as he listened to her breathing, waiting for her to calm down.

Then still without a word, he took out his coat to put it on her shoulders before walking her home.

There, he only left her when she was sitting on the sofa, to go get her a glass of water, letting go of it when he was sure she was holding it well, and remaining kneeling on the floor right next to her.

"… Karen said you were angry. Because I didn't call." he whispered, his eyes stopping from staring at her for a second.

"Karen is talking nonsense. I'm a big girl, and you owed me nothing. Nothing at all. I was happy to help you, and stupid to think that… Thanks for saving me. You don't have to stay."

Silence returned, but Frank didn't move. He stayed until she finished her glass, then until she was done shaking and crying, his hand never leaving hers.

But he still didn't move. And in that moment, Y/N wondered if he too had been disappointed when their week together was over.

Maybe Karen was right, he was shy, and he didn't want to put her in danger by staying in contact with her. As stubborn and insufferable as Matthew. And also nice. Why else would he have been there to protect her ?

"It's not a good idea." he suddenly muttered, closing his eyes.

"What ?"

Frank sighed, seeing that she might cry again. He could have left right away, because he didn't think his presence was a good idea, and probably he was right. No doubt it was ridiculous to love the Punisher.

But continuing to mutter, he stood up slightly, pressing his forehead against hers. Now he held both hers hands, looking desperate, opening pleading eyes.

He couldn't stay, but that didn't mean he didn't want to more than anything in the world.

"It's not a good idea." he repeated, however, as if to force himself to move, to remember his course of action, and he was quickly on his feet, ready to leave.

“Frank…”

"No."

“Frank…”

The door was closed as quickly as it had been opened and in an instant Frank was there again, kissing her like a thirsty man who had just found an oasis in the middle of the desert.

But the moment was furtive, almost a mirage, because the soldier quickly shook his head, swearing and saying again that it really wasn't a good idea, before fleeing the apartment.

Y/N could have been mad at him for that. But she was too busy touching hers lips, thinking that if he had kissed her against his principles, maybe Frank Castle loved her enough to come back.

This idea stayed with her, after she received a message just before going to sleep. Simple message, which made her smile.

"I was happy too. You're not stupid. Good night."

Yes, they would probably see each other again. In secret, at times when she wouldn't expect to find him in her apartment. But she was a bit used to Matt, Foggy and Karen. This wouldn't be a problem at all.

[irrevocableloves]

violent delights

twilight rewrite! edward cullen x fem!witch!reader

chapter one: the city of forks welcomes you

masterlist ౨ৎ chapter two

summary: y/n swan has lived in forks all of her life, but when she takes her summer-long vacation to california to visit her mother, she returns to a strange new family accompanying her small town.

warnings: swearing, angst

words: 1.8k

a/n: this has been in my drafts for so so long and tbh i haven't written a fanfic since i was 12... and i'm fr 22, but i've ran out of twilight fanfics to read (i've been waiting weeks for one specific one to update and i'm going crazy)... so anyways !! hope you enjoy !!

Opening my eyes, I was greeted with the trees of Forks, Washington. After an almost four hour drive, I could sense that I was nearing my home as the city was nowhere to be found. Instead it was replaced with deep green trees, dim skies, and the small shops that swept by as my dad drove.

I liked Forks, more than I probably should. Everyone here, mostly the kids, sulked about big bright cities where the sun would actually make an appearance. They longed for the liveliness that Forks had never given them.

But me? I secretly adored the quietness of it all. But of course, I had a disadvantage. Every summer I bathed in the sun rays of California, visited the busy cities, the warm beaches, and the overall liveliness that was craved from everyone else. But I was drained. Normally, it would be the opposite from any other person, but I always loved the cold. Ever since I was a kid, my little brain was wired to believe that Forks was almost like Christmas every single day of the year. So, rain, snow, or even ice (even with the ungodly amount of times I've slipped) never had me in too big of a rut.

With my mom back in California, though I loved her to death, was an absolute headache most of the time. And unlike my dad, she hovered. But, it wasn't her fault. The summer is the only time she had me, the rest were reserved with Charlie, which had resulted in this summer's mishaps: she begged me to stay longer. One would think that school would be an easy get out, but she knew the first month was nothing but dry introductions, syllabi, and effortless assignments. It was partly my fault. I was never one to turn her down, perhaps it was guilt because maybe she and I felt deep down that I favored my father more because who could ever turn down a chance to live in the perfect bustling city of San Francisco over Forks.

So I stayed. But now, it's the beginning of October. Thankfully, I was able to get in contact with the school in order to get all of my classes in order, as well as the help of my best friend, Angela, who emailed me all of the assignments. Jessica on the other hand, filled me in on all of the gossip. Her phone calls consisted of talks about her massive crush on Mike as well as the new and "totally weird" (as Jessica put it) family. "Suuupperrr pale, but weirdly GORGEOUS. I mean this Edward guy, he's wow. I swear if Mike doesn't make a move soon... I wonder if I could make him jealous?" The conversations were mostly one-sided, always either complaining about Mike's obliviousness or never catching that new guy's attention.

Now that I knew I was caught up on everything to do with school, all I wanted was to bury myself in bed and prepare for an alarm that hasn't been set in months.

I awoke to the sound of a car honking outside my window, assuming it was nothing, I settled back into my pillows, throwing my purple duvet back over your head for hopefully another thirty minutes of sleep.

"Y/N/N!" I heard my dad's voice accompanied by one of his famously loud whistles from outside of my window. That's when I finally got up and peered over with squinting eyes to see my father coming out of a car that most definitely wasn't his squad car.

Once my vision settled, I saw a green Volkswagen beetle parked in the driveway. No fucking way. I sprinted down the stairs and flung the front door open to see my father with a wide grin, gesturing the keys in front of my face.

"For me? You're joking?" I said in complete shock.

"You want me to be joking? Cause if so I can just bring this right back to Billy and let him sell it to some other geezer."

"No! No! No! I mean... Thank you, dad. Oh my god, how did you guys even find this?"

"Well, consider it a late birthday present. Billy and Jacob found it back in May for your birthday and decided to fix it up for ya, free of charge, but I paid 'em of course."

"Thanks dad and how about we invite Billy and Jacob over sometime and I'll cook? As a thank you?"

"You bet."

Once I parked in front of the school, my group of friends welcomed me with open arms, with Angela and Jessica squealing about how much they missed you and the boys, mostly just Mike, trying to awkwardly hug me.

I knew Mike had a crush on me, since third grade to be exact, which only made it worse for my friendship with Jessica, which made it worse for Lauren, Jessica's bestest friend to have an even better reason to despise me.

The first four classes: English, Government, Trigonometry, and French were surprisingly a breeze thanks to the assignments either Angela or the teachers sent over while I was away.

While at lunch, a new, unfamiliar bunch emerged from the cafeteria doors. They were beautiful... and also extremely pale even for Forks. So, this was the family Jessica was practically drooling over?

"Who are they?" I questioned anyways.

Jessica leans in, being careful to whisper, "It's the family I was telling you about. Dr. and Mrs. Cullen's foster kids. They all moved down here from Alaska like last month."

I studied the first girl who walked in, bleached blonde hair, almost black eyes that were almost unsettling, she wore a thin grey coat and a knitted white scarf that matched her icy skin, and a necklace with a large charm that looked to be a family crest of some sort.

"The blonde girl, Rosalie, and the big dark-haired guy, Emmett..." Jessica continued.

More of the family gathered in slowly, the blonde was linking hands with a man with jet black hair, with the same family crest residing on his wrist.

"... they're a thing. I'm not even sure that's legal." Jessica grimaced.

Angela piped in, "Jess, they're not actually related."

"But they live together and all wear that weird creepy crest like some sort of cult. And the little dark haired girl, Alice, she's really weird..."

Despite Jessica's remarks, Alice was the one who caught my eye the most so far and not in a negative way. She reminded me of a fairy almost with her pixie-like hair cut, her style, and the way she carried herself, which was pretty whimsical in a way. Her arms were locked with a man beside her, bleached blonde just as Rosalie was.

"... she's with Jasper, the blonde who looks like he's in pain" Jessica continued on, "I mean, Dr. Cullen's like this foster dad slash match maker."

"Maybe he'll adopt me." Angela giggled.

The last Cullen to enter, I assumed it was Edward, the man Jessica claimed to be weirdly gorgeous and 'wow'. 'Wow' was the perfect word to explain how I felt as he strode down the cafeteria. I couldn't keep your eyes off of him, even as he went past your table, I was oddly captivated by his presence. He had a lanky body, matched with the same pale skin as his siblings, bronze hair and striking smirk. You could've sworn he heard Jessica's whispered remarks from across the cafeteria.

"He's totally gorgeous, obviously. But apparently, no one here is good enough for him. Like I care." She does. "Anyway, don't waste your time."

"I wasn't planning on it." I looked away before his eyes could find mine and once I did, I felt as if holes were practically burned at the back of my head. Was he staring?

Out of curiosity, I peered over my shoulder, quickly glancing, seeing his eyes on mine and quickly turning my eyes back, slowly hiding behind my hair.

Before I walked into Biology, I shuffled through my backpack to look for the assignments I'd done in your time away, settling them in my hands as I walked through the door.

Greeting Mr. Banner, I handed him my completed assignments that were neatly put together with a paper clip.

"Finally nice to see you Miss Y/L/N, how was your summer?" Being great at biology put you at an advantage, not only for assignments, but because Mr. Banner didn't question much about my month long disappearance, but I couldn't say the same about PE...

"It was good, thank you."

"Well that's great, I'm glad! And I appreciate your completed assignments, not even people attending have it all quite done like you have!" He rambled. "So! Your seat... There's a seating chart, but there should be an empty seat I left for you...,yes! Right there, next to Mr. Cullen." Mr. Banner pointed to the right side of the classroom to the seat next to the Cullen boy.

Edward's eyes once again felt as if they burned through my own, staring at me as if you had wronged him in some way. The hatred in his eyes was well aware, but for what reason?

With each step I took, the more disgust in his features appeared, almost as if he was holding his breath. Did I stink or something? I attempted not to smell myself to see if perhaps I had raging body odor or even a bad breath that radiated from across the classroom. No one else seemed to have an issue besides him.

Once I was sat, I heard him mutter into a cough, but I only made eye contact with his beading black eyes and said nothing at all. He only pushed the microscope towards me slowly, being careful to not come any closer to me as if he would catch something.

I sighed loudly, making my annoyance well known. He only just tensed.

Throughout the entirety of the class, the tension continued. I even considered going up to Mr. Banner and asking to switch seats with someone, but that only sparked the possibility of Mike forcing Eric to switch seats and I honestly couldn't figure out which would be worse. So, I decided to suffer through the entire hour and perhaps learn to suffer the entire year partnered with a man who could hardly even look me in the eye without being utterly disgusted.

At first I was hurt, but the hurt swiftly turned into annoyance once the partner sessions began. He didn't even consult with me, rather he just scribbled as fast as he could, only of what he was able to see through the microscope, only handing it to me after to check his answers. All correct, surprisingly.

Staring at the clock, I was counting down the time until the bell. Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Edward had gotten up, practically running out of the classroom before the bell had officially rung.

next chapter

taglist ₊˚⊹♡

[taedsyh]

✼ ҉ Fighting with your alcoholic husband! Re6 Leon Kennedy

All I can think about Re6!Leon is fight fight and fight 🥺

His words broke your heart, and you were tired of feeling worthless.

You gave him a disappointed look.

"You're drunk."

“I’m not drunk,” Leon said, though it was obvious to anyone with two eyes in their head that he most certainly was.

“You always say the meanest things when you’re drunk.”

“I don’t say anything I don’t mean,” he said.

That was the end for you, your heart was so broken you felt tears in your eyes.

You used to dismiss everything he said as drunk, but not anymore.

You sigh in disappointment.

"So you want to finish?"

“I don’t know. I can give you a hundred reasons to stay, and you can give me a thousand reasons to leave. I’m just tired of trying to please you, and that’s why I drink.”

“I drink to cope.”

“I drink because I don’t know how to do anything else.”

“I drink myself to sleep at night.”

“I drink myself drugged when I’m awake.”

“I drink because I'm me. Because I'm Leon.”

You shake your head in disappointment

"I thought you were strong."

“I’m broken.” Said Leon at the moment you said that. He took a sip of his beer.

“I’m nothing but broken.”

“I’m a goddamn broken hero, and you don’t want me because I’m too much for you.”

You frown in frustration as you see he's still drinking

"You're not the only one who's had bad experiences. You're not the only one who's been through these fucking traumas!"

“I was a secret agent. I dealt with death and destruction every day. I killed people because it was my job.”

“You can’t compare that to your shitty college experience!”

“You think I had it easy? I was dealing with monsters and creatures and bioweapons that could kill a village and destroy a city!” He started screaming.

You sigh to stay calm, because you would scream right away too if you didn't help yourself

"We live in the same world."

“But I’ve had it worse!” Leon shouted. “You’ve never had it worse in your life! You don’t understand one damn thing I’ve been through!”

“You’ve had a perfect life compared to me! You don’t know what true suffering is!”

You sigh in disappointment and had to try harder to hold back your tears.

"I won't argue with you anymore."

He sat in his chair and was pissed off.

“Good.” Said Leon, his tone turning cold. “I don’t want to argue either. Why do you care so much about me anyway?” He shouted, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“I’m a drunken, useless piece of shit who has nothing but alcohol and a job that drives me to drink.” He took another sip.

“You’re always so mad at me, what's wrong?”

"Fine, keep feeling sorry for yourself."

You walked to the door to leave the room, you didn't want to argue anymore.

The sound of a bottle breaking on the wall made you turn around. Leon had thrown another bottle against the wall.

“You’re all the same!” He yelled. “Everyone is the same!”

“Everyone just leaves like everything is fine.”

It was a tantrum you had dealt with before, and you couldn’t do it again. But you couldn’t leave it either.

You turned back to him, your gaze falling on the broken bottle, and you frowned.

"Because you push everyone away."

"What do you care?!" Said Leon, and his voice began to crack. "Why do you keep trying to make it work? I'm just a drunk pushing you away!"

He rose from his chair and began pacing.

"What do you care?"

"WHY DO YOU WANT TO FIX ME?!"

When he yelled at me, you couldn't hold back my tears

"Because I love you!"

“But why?!” Leon cried out, his eyes beginning to water. “Why do you love me?”

“Why are you always trying to make things work?”

“Why are you trying to fix me?”

“Why do you just love me?”

“I’m not worth your love.”

You took a deep breath to stop your tears, you felt too bad to speak

“Just tell me why you love me, damn it!” Leon shouted, breaking down and finally showing his vulnerability. His lips were trembling and his eyes were full of tears.

“Why do you love me so much when no one else does?”

“That's exactly why.”

His words broke your heart, you wanted to hug him, but you didn't dare

"Because I love you… I don't have any long explanations or reasons. I just love who you're. I love that despite everything you've been through, you're able to move on…"

“I can’t move on!” He said and his voice cracked. He wiped the tears from his eyes and sighed. “I’m stuck in a rut that I can’t get out of. I’m not the same man you knew. I’m worse off, I just don’t want to admit it.”

“I’m just a broken man with a broken heart, with broken dreams.”

You have lowered your gaze as you wipe away the tears that continue to flow

"You won't let me help you. You prefer fucking drinks to me."

“Because the bottle never judges me! The bottle never yells at me! The bottle is always there for me when I need it!!!”

“The bottle never says it hates me!”

“The bottle never leaves me!”

“The damn bottle cares more about me than you do!”

What he said only broke your heart more. With a sigh, you continue to wipe away your tears.

"If you prefer the damn bottle… okay."

“Then just go ahead and leave me! Just like everyone else!”

He wiped the tears from his eyes and sighed, his tone turning cold again.

“Don’t try to pretend you care.”

“You’ll leave, just like everyone else always does.”

All you wanted to do was hug him and help him and be by his side, but he wouldn't let you.

"I'm tired of trying."

“You’re tired of trying?” Leon asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“What did you actually do?"

“What have you done to help me and not yourself?”

The moment you said that, something broke inside him. He threw the beer bottle against the wall. It shattered into a million tiny pieces, one of which cut into his cheek as he screamed.

“Don’t pretend you tried, don’t pretend you know how I feel, damn it!”

"I've been trying! I'm trying!"

Your voice was hoarse as you saw the cut on his cheek.

"Your cheek is bleeding."

Leon touched his cheek with his hands, pulled them away and showed blood on his hands.

“Great, now I’m bleeding.”

He turned away and wiped his hands on his black shirt. Then he sighed and put a hand to his chin.

“I don’t need any help.”

“I’m fine.”

"Wait, I'll get a Band-Aid."

You ran through the house, found the band-aid you were looking for, and came back.

He sighed and shook his head.

“I don’t need your damn help.”

But when he saw the patch, he decided to swallow it.

“Gimme.”

You gave to him.

He took it and stuck it on his cheek.

“I don’t need your help, damn it…"

But his tone was a little softer and maybe even a little grateful.

You stopped looking at him and looked around the room. You were tired and just wanted to sleep. But staying here didn't seem like such a good idea. You think it would be better to stay with a friend.

"I'm going to go. We'll talk more later when you're sober."

Leon's facial expression changed instantly. The emotions now visible on his face were regret and despair.

"Don't go..."

"This isn't working, Leon."

"It is working," He said, his tone a bit harsh. "It's working because… we just need communication. Communication and compromise. Do not pretend that me being a drunk bastard is the only thing that's wrong with us."

"There was an issue with me before I started drinking. You just refuse to acknowledge that."

"At least we used to be able to talk properly."

"But we never did!" He said, more harsh than he wanted it to be. "You refuse to tell me anything because you think I can't handle it! You pretend everything is fine when it's not!"

"I hate how this is turning into a damn game, where you won't tell me what's wrong to save yourself pain! We both know there's an issue that you won't tell me, you won't give me a chance to prove myself, to fix it!"

You kept staring at him in disappointment.

"I don't know if I can do it anymore."

"What to do?" He asked, his voice breaking slightly with sadness and frustration. "Is that it? Are you just going to give up on me? Is that what you want?!"

"It's always a damn fight! Always acting like you don't care!"

"What do you want from us anymore?"

Your whole heart aching. Was this really how it was going to end?

"I guess there's nothing left to do now."

“So… that’s it? You’re just going to leave me?”

His tone was soft, almost a whisper.

“It’s over? You're just going to walk away?”

He put the bottle down and looked away with tears in his eyes.

He already knew the answer. He was just hoping he could change your mind.

“Please… please don’t go…"

You sighed in frustration.

"Do you realize that we are repeating the same thing over and over again?"

“So what?!?” He said, his tone loud and aggressive. “So what if it’s repetitive doesn’t mean we can’t fix it!”

“We can compromise… We can work through it together…"

“But you don’t compromise at all… … you don’t even give me a chance to solve the problem. You just walk away.”

He looked away, searching for the bottle, but it was out of reach. He wanted so much to take a sip of alcohol.

“Please... don’t go…"

"Will it always be like this? The argument, the breakup, and the reconciliation. That's all we do."

Leon tried to argue against it, but he knew you were right. You were always fighting about something, whether it was his drinking or his attitude. And you always broke up and came back within a couple of hours or so.

“It doesn’t have to be that way. We can work through this. You refuse to see that I can be better.”

“I’m trying to change, you refuse to see that I can be better.”

“I’m trying to change, you just refuse to see that too.”

“What if I promise to stop drinking?”

"You don't keep your promises, we've tried that before."

“I can do it this time.”

It sounded pathetic, and he knew it. But he had to stop drinking if it was going to work, and he was willing to try.

“I’m sorry I broke my promises. I know I have a problem. It’s hard. But for you, I can make it work.”

“I’ll… i’m going to stop and never do it again. I swear on my life.”

You avert your gaze, uncertainly

"I don't know, Leon."

“Please… please give me another chance.”

He was desperate enough to get down on his knees, but he refused. This was too pathetic, even for him.

“I swear on everything in my life.”

“I'll change, just… please, give me another chance to make it up to you. I hate to see you suffer.”

“Please… don’t leave me. Don’t leave me. I love you.” He said. He really did love you, deep down, he just couldn’t show it.

"Do you really want to stop drinking? "

“I promise. I promise I won’t let you down again. I… it’s one of my problems, I know, so I’ll do better for you.”

“I want more than anything to make it work.”

He put his hands on your knees.

“Please… please give me another chance.”

Slowly, you put your arms around him. You were too much in love with him to leave him

His eyes widened as he slowly let his guard down.

You didn’t go, so you were going to fix it. Or at least you weren’t done with him yet, and he wasn’t going to be done with you yet. The only thing he wanted at the moment was you.

He put his arms around you and pulled you into a tight hug. His eyes closed immediately as he breathed in your scent and tried to enjoy your closeness again.

He was relieved. No more screaming, no more anger, no more fighting. Just two lovers embracing and happy.

His nose pressed against your neck and he sniffed softly. He could smell your scent, he could hear your heartbeat and even your breath. He knew you were real, and that gave him a feeling he had not experienced in a long time.

After a few moments, he let go of you so he could look at you.

“I love you.” He said. “I… can’t lose you.”

・❥・English is not my native language, sorry if I made mistakes.

[artificial-transmutations]

Big Dick

Richard hated moving. That meant both the concept of living in a new place as well as the process itself. Still, it was a necessity sometimes, such as this.

His employer had been hit hard by the different crises of his time and was forced to shut down the place where Richard worked. Thankfully, rather than just firing everyone there, they offered their employees another job at another office.

The downside? That other office was half way across the country. Many of his colleagues had naturally turned down the offer, but Richard had had a hard time to decide. Sure, he would lose his social circle, but there wasn't too much of that anyway. It did however beat looking for a new job, which was a nightmare in the current economy.

So, Richard accepted. His company helped him find a place to live in the new city, but didn't pay for a moving company, which was understandable considering the distance. Sadly, that was the same reason, Richard couldn't afford one either, which left him with the both sides of moving that he hated.

Luckily, his new apartment already had furniture, so all he had to do was pack his belongings into boxes and drive over there.

The first part of his moving project went surprisingly smoothly. He managed to pack everything he wanted to take into one van that he rented for the occasion and drove over to his new home. He arrived at the apartment in the early evening after a long but uneventful drive.

However, once he opened the door to his new place, he almost dropped the box he was holding. Did he get lost on the way here? No, impossible, the key fit and the address was right. This was his new apartment.

Richard carefully set down his box and went into the place, rubbing his eyes. This had to be some kind of a joke!

Inside, the apartment was stuffed full of furniture. However, it wasn't modern, concrete-look or faux wood stuff he would have expected. It was old and wooden: Lots of cabinets, wardrobes, a wardrobe, chests, bed frames, tables, chairs and so forth. The place looked like a set from some seventies movies. All rooms had a beige carpet in them, and furniture that looked like it belonged to his grandmother. Even the lights were old-fashioned stained glass lamps that produced a dim light.

Richard was a modern man. He loved a minimalistic style when it came to his own apartment, and he always chose modern furniture for it. Now, this place looked like a dump. He couldn't imagine what kind of weirdo would choose to live in such an awful place, especially since he knew the rent would be higher than it was for the simple fact that his new landlord must have made the place look so hideous. He looked at the colorful curtains with disgust.

Richard let out a long sigh. Great. He would either need to redecorate the whole place or look for another apartment first thing tomorrow. There was no way he was going to live like this. However, as it was already quite late, he had no choice but to sleep in this nightmare of a home and do his research in the morning. He picked up the box from the entrance and went to his new bedroom.

It was already late when he finished moving in boxes and sat down in a dusty armchair, immediately coughing from the dust it produced. Just. Great.

However, when the dust settled, he had to take a double look. At first, he thought his plain and white t-shirt was all dusty now, but in fact, he found it changed! In place of the modern style clothing, he was wearing a colorful shirt now, something that went well with the hideous pictures on the wall. What the fuck was happening?

He needed to get out of this right away. He went to the bedroom at once, where he put box with his clothes earlier and got out of the shirt on the way. Before he could search for a replacement however, he noticed his chest.

It looked like it was supposed to look like - mostly. However, instead of being cleanly shaven, as Richard always was, it was covered in curly hair!

Richard's head was swimming. He was sure he had shaved this morning, as he did every morning. However, the chest hair was here, and without a doubt the product of more than one day without shaving his chest.

Shaking his head, he opened the box, only to be surprised once more. Instead of his Jeans and t-shirts, he was looking at colorful shirts and corduroy pants. This wasn't his stuff!

There had to be a rational explanation for all of this. Perhaps he had somehow taken someone else’s box. The next one would surely contain his stuff.

With shaking hands, he opened the next box, only to find it full of... magazines. Colorful printed magazines. Porn magazines from the look of it. But that wasn't all! When he opened a random one, he found a nearly naked man, in a seductive pose. Another magazine, another man in another pose, with an impressive moustache.

Richard went through a few more magazines, just to be sure, but there was no doubt: It weren't only old-fashioned porn magazines, it was old-fashioned gay porn magazines.

Richard was feeling dizzy. What was going on? Just then he noticed a stirring in his pants. When he looked down, he saw that his cock had reacted to all the pictures of men he just looked at and had grown stiff in the confines of his pants. Why?! Richard wasn't gay!

However, when he looked back at the printed men, his cock twitched in need, as if to prove him wrong.

Absentmindedly, he touched his member through the fabric and let out a moan.

Something very weird was going on, and he needed to think clearly. However, he couldn't do so with an erection like that. He would need to do something about it first, before figuring this out.

Richard carefully reached into his pants and grabbed his member, stroking it slowly. His moans grew louder. With one hand, he started playing with his nuts, squeezing the testes carefully before massaging them with his fingers.

Meanwhile, he couldn't stop looking at the men in the pictures, which caused his dick to swell even more. It quickly became bigger and harder as even more blood rushed into it, making it look obscene.

However, even the full hardness of his cock wasn't enough to distract him from the pictures he looked at. He needed more and stroked his member faster and rougher while he watched the men on the pages.

Just as his mind drifted off to images of kissing the men and feeling their bodies, he felt a powerful orgasm wash over him, causing him to tense up and moan loudly, pumping his seed into his hand while watching the magazines.

After it was all done, he let out a sigh and wiped the remaining sperm off his hand and pants with a dirty looking towel before flopping to his bed and drifting to sleep eventually.

The birds were singing, and the sun was shining when Richard woke up the next morning. He yawned and stretched before scratching his hairy chest. Apparently, he had fallen asleep after jerking off last night. He wiped off his tight black leather pants that accentuated his bulge nicely and went into the bathroom.

As he urinated into the toilet and watched the busy life and newspaper vendors on the streets through the window, Richard smiled. Life really was good for him. Being one of the most prolific gay porn stars of the seventies certainly had its perks. For example, he was able to afford this great place to live.

He finished up and washed his hands while smiling for his reflection and twirled his thick moustache. He was really looking for today's shoot; his co-star was positively hot, and he would show him why he was called "Big Dick". As Dick left his apartment, Richard was screaming internally, unable to escape this new reality as a seventies gay porn star.

[zivazivc]

I'm gonna take some time to digest and think about that comic before I come to a decision. The decision being whether to continue to support you or just leave you be.

If I decide to leave you be, just know that there are no hard feelings, okay?

You are on anon so I don't know if this is someone who I've talked to before, but either way, yes, no hard feelings. I completely understand. It's the internet, anyone can unfollow anyone for any reason, but also I know this is an uncomfortable topic and even triggering to some, and some people are just not here for that. I was contemplating posting it for a while for this reason.

I do kinda want to point out that the purpose was/is not to fetishize a relationship with a minor and I will never fetishize or glorify that ever. It's wrong and unhealthy even if there's no malicious intent present. (am pointing it out because I got a bunch of asks about it and I'm 🧍) But this is fiction, and I portrayed the scenes the way that I did mainly because I made the comic from Floyd's perspective and I wanted to get in his head and show what exactly he was feeling in that moment. If the end result makes you feel uncomfortable or "flustered" (I don't think I'm using the right English word) in a certain icky way, that was kind of the point and I believe should be a normal reaction from an adult.

I spent my high school years (normally 15-19yo, but it was more like 14-22+) living in a dorm in the country's capitol and I attended a vocational school for visual arts that is pretty notorious for having a drug problem (I'm talking about mostly weed) and being full of weirdos (students free and comfortable expressing themselves and experimenting with expressing themselves but weirdos is the used term lol). The dorm is also located very near the city's subcultural center (look up Ljubljana Metelkova if you want, it's kind of what I imagine the underground scenes the bandmates visit looking like) which is like a hangout place for subcultures like punks and metalheads and the lgbtq. Anyway coming from living my whole life in a rural village where I still played with toys to somewhere like that was an insane shock to me. I sometimes felt like a toddler around young adults in a big city. And it was whiplash for many other teens too, some of whom quickly fell into bad crowds and spiraled, often those who came from bad home situations or controlling parents (heck some even came from elementary schools already doing problematic things). The amount of rumors of things happening in that dorm and school (drugs, sex, messing around with older teens/adults, whatever)... (I'm not saying it was like a concerning percentage of students but it was happening) Some of these people who made some bad choices were and some still are my friends, some of whom still struggle with some things today and it's heartbreaking.

Anyway where I was going with this is that in high school I was always kind of the anti all of that (to the point it had the opposite effect on me where I didn't even try out the normal teenage things) and just thinking "what the fuck is wrong with these people?" And recently, when my headcanons for Floyd started going in the direction that they have, I started wondering the same thing. Just not in a judgemental way this time. More like I want to dissect this situation carefully and understand it from everyone's perspective and see what lead up to it. I've always been very fascinated by morally gray and dark fiction for this reason and this is right up that alley.

So yeah, this isn't for everyone, and I can't hold a grudge if anyone unfollows me for it. But what I'm doing here is inspired a lot by real life situations and my weird deep dives into articles about trauma and its effects (also pretty sure I'm also processing some of my own personal emotions through these blorbos but I am not going into that), and I feel like I'm taking a pretty realistic approach to it (if you ignore the fact that this is fucking Trolls). I'm just slowly exploring how a relationship between a teen who comes from a sheltered almost cultish upbringing (pop trolls live in a concentration camp and are dealing with the horrors by singing and enjoying every minute of their every day like life is a ticking time bomb) and a young adult who never got a chance to grow up because he never experienced a childhood and is suddenly being liked by someone for the first time in his life (I'll talk more about Les some other time), would develop into hopefully something okay for both of them. Because I do want them to both be okay in the end. And I'm sharing some of my brainworms online for anyone who's interested. I just can't share ALL of my brain worms and sometimes I forget that people don't have a view of what's going on in my head. Yeah... This answer became long for no other reason except that I can't sleep because I posted that comic, damn. That's what I get for dropping that bombshell on top of what was mostly fun "comedic" posts about the AU so far.

[penny00dreadful]

Somebody To Love - Part 6

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 AO3

Here we have it everyone! I hope you enjoy. This part includes Eddie's addict brain trying to trip him up, so if that might be a trigger for you, keep yourself safe.

Eddie was six months clean by the time Wayne flew back to Indiana. He would have flown back sooner, around the four month mark but temptation had reared its ugly head and Eddie broke the lock on his bathroom door, intentionally trapping himself inside and away when he’d found one stray pill under the rug in his studio space. 

He was alone.

No one was home. 

No one would be home for hours. 

Wayne was halfway across the city, Steve was at his own home, Chrissy was at a modelling gig, the boys were with their families.

It was a terrible, opportunistic coincidence.

The pill was tiny and white, covered in floor dirt and bits of hair, but it would go down easy enough. He’d be able to dry swallow it in less than a second. It was small enough. He could just take it and he’d probably pass for sober by the time they came back.

He had it in his hand. 

No one would know.

No one would ever know.

His hand was completely frozen, almost on another plane of existence. He couldn’t move. A part of him was banging against the cage doors telling him to just take it. He’d taken worse things before, this would be nothing. He was strong enough now to not spiral again. This was just one, not nearly the worst thing he’d ever done.

He’d promised to be good and he had been good. So why couldn’t he have this one thing?

Another part of him was firmly trying to keep the cage locked.

Think of Wayne.

Think of the boys.

Think of Chrissy.

Think of Steve.

Why should they get to judge him for making decisions about his own body, the beast cried out. He was his own person, this was his own life, who the fuck were they to try and make him do these things, take it!

They didn’t make him do anything. He made that decision on his own. They were supporting him through his own decision. Not forcing him to do anything. They were supporting him. He said he’d change. He promised.

Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Eds.

The beast repeated Steve’s words back to him, twisting and poisoning them. Steve didn’t think he could do this anyway so why was he bothering?

No.

No!

No!

Eddie bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood and the pain shocked him into action.

He threw the pill across the room. 

He didn’t know where it landed, he didn’t want to know. 

He’d run up the stairs as fast as he could, putting as much physical distance in between himself and that fucking pill as it was possible to do.

And he’d called Wayne, who’d called Steve.

It was maybe an hour later when the bathroom door was finally broken down and Wayne crawled into the empty tub with him and just held him while he wept quietly into his chest.

Steve appeared in the doorway some time later, letting him know it was gone and that Eddie would be spending a few nights with him and Robin while professionals came in to clear the house top to bottom, just in case.

Because there was a service for that apparently.

This was LA after all. 

Of course there was a service dedicated to quietly, covertly and methodically going through luxury houses to remove every last trace of temptation.

Of course there was.

It was another thing entirely to fully realise just where he’d be staying. 

Staying with Steve wasn’t an issue, they practically lived together whenever they went on tour anyway. They knew all of each other's habits, their quirks, their weird rituals. And he’d been to Steve’s house plenty of times so it wasn’t that either.

It was having to live in the space of one Robin Buckley. 

Steve’s Chrissy. 

He hadn’t met her very often, they just never tended to cross paths but whenever they did, Eddie got the distinct impression that she really, really didn’t like him. 

Though if he was in Robin’s position, watching everything he’d ever put Steve through… He probably wouldn’t like himself much either.

Steve had been running interference on them for two whole days, trying to stop Robin’s glares and snappy comments and trying to stop Eddie from retaliating too dramatically. Because if it’s one thing Eddie was terrible at, one major, major character flaw he had, it was holding his tongue around someone who did not like him.

But Steve had to leave them alone eventually. 

He was half way out the front door, begging the two of them not to murder each other while he was gone.

Robin crossed her arms and shot daggers in Eddie’s direction. “Non prometto niente.”

“Ti imploro.” Steve checked his watch again before raising his eyes back to Robin.

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Now you two are just being rude.”

“Cazzo.” She spat at him.

“Robin!” Steve rubbed at his temples before pointing at her. “Play. Nice.” Without another word he slammed the door behind him, the sound echoing around them as they stood on opposite sides of the open plan house, like it was high noon in one of Wayne’s old westerns.

“Okay. Let's get it all out, Buckley now that the parent is gone." Eddie spread his arms out in front of him. "What precisely is your fucking issue with me?”

“My fucking issue is that I don’t like you,” Robin snapped, “that’s my fucking issue.”

"I'm gonna need you to be more specific than that,” Eddie snapped right back, “plenty of people don't like me."

"Shocking." She widened her eyes in mock surprise.

He gave her the middle finger. "Is it just the Steve thing or are there other reasons?"

She scoffed. "There's no 'just' with what you did to him."

"You can't be stupid enough to think that I meant it like that."

"Jesus you're a real charmer aren't you?"

“I get it, I was a shitty person, to Steve especially, but-”

“No!” She shouted, cutting her hand through the air. “You don’t fucking get it. You really don’t fucking get it, Munson, because you weren’t there. You have no idea what all kinds of hell you put that man through for years, but I do. I was there for it all.”

“Of course I have no idea!” He threw his hands up. “How could I possibly have known?!”

“How could you possibly not have known?! Everyone knew how he felt and all you ever did was rub it in his face-”

“I didn’t rub anything! I wouldn’t have if I’d known but I didn’t! How the hell was I supposed to know?!”

“Are you blind?!” They had taken a few steps closer but the couch was still between them. Eddie guessed it was the only thing stopping her from tearing into him with her teeth. “You need something like that spelled out to you?!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, is that not a reasonable request? To be told what someone’s feeling with grown-up words and not have to navigate a minefield of guessing what’s going on in their head?” His legs bumping against the couch was the only indicator to him that he’d moved closer. “How was I supposed to know I needed to look deeper? Am I supposed to go around examining everyone’s motivations for a deeper meaning now? Try to see into their heads rather than trust the things they tell me? That makes no sense! I’m not fucking psychic, why am I expected to be? You know as well as I do that he hid this from me. He never told me!”

“Don’t you put this on him. Don’t you dare-!” She was leaning over the back of the couch now to jab him in the chest.

“I’m not!” He had his hands gripping in his hair by the scalp and he could feel the lump in his throat but he refused to cry in front of her. “But tell me I’m wrong, Buckley. Go on! Tell me I’m not making sense right now!”

Robin huffed. “You’re wrong and you’re not making sense right now.” There wasn’t much conviction behind it. She pulled her finger back from his chest and crossed her arms with a scowl. “Maybe if you weren’t so fucked up on everything all the time-”

“Oh, spare me. Don’t start on the puritan talk just because you know I’m right-”

“I am not-!”

“Okay, fine!” 

He ripped his hands out of his hair and felt like everything inside him was crumbling before he could stop it. He’d done everything he could, he’d kicked the drugs, he kicked the drink, he hadn’t had any sex since the ‘Sucker’ video, he was letting Steve decide how fast they moved, even when they moved and where to… what else was he supposed to do? He was at the end of his fucking rope. 

“Let’s examine that then, shall we? Do you think that if I knew that I had someone in my corner in that way, that I had someone I could come home to or- or be there with me in my lowest moments, that could help take the pressure off, that I felt safe with… do you think I wouldn’t have delighted in having a steady fucking thing for the hardest years of my life? People don’t do the amount of shit that I’ve done because they’re fucking happy, Robin!”

He turned his back on her to collapse down on the couch with his head in his hands, trying to force his tears to retreat. His whole body felt weak, like he’d been wrung out and he really hoped she didn’t take the opportunity to crack him over the back of the head with something.

The only thing that could be heard in the ringing silence of the house was his own heavy breathing as he tried to keep his emotions under control.

A weight settled down next to him and he thanked his lucky stars he was able to stop from flinching. He didn’t want to look up, the tears clinging to his waterline that he hadn’t managed to fight back would be undeniable, but as the quiet continued to extend around them he couldn’t ignore it.

Robin wasn’t looking at him, thank god. She was curled up as far away from him as she could get with her back to the couch arm, her knees pulled up against her and she was scowling in the direction of the tv.

It must have been nearly a full minute later when she spoke. In that time Eddie had to pull the bottom of his t-shirt up to wipe at his eyes and sniffle everything back and he was fully prepared to execute a frosty retreat to the guest room he’d been using.

“Fine.” Robin bit out. When Eddie looked over, she cut her eyes in his direction but quickly averted them again.

“Fine, what?” He cringed at the thickness in his own voice. He didn’t even have the energy to bite back, he just sounded petulant.

“Fine, you’re a miserable fuck.”

He scoffed. “Great. Thanks for your input.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“You didn’t want to finish, you left a dramatic pause in there on purpose.”

Her frown only got deeper. “Fine, you’re a miserable fuck but you’re not wrong.” She raised her hand to her mouth and started to pick at some dry skin on her lip. “It’s not on you to read minds.”

Eddie nodded. 

The tv wasn’t even on but she was still staring at it like it was. After another few moments of silence he turned, mirroring her position. “I am trying, Robin. Ever since it properly hit me I’ve been trying.”

“I know.” She sighed heavily, exasperated and slumped lower into the couch. “So he’s been telling me. And to be honest, I can see it.” She glanced back at him again. “Last time I saw you before this you looked like some strung out, coked up skeleton. Now you look,” she waved her hand around in his direction, “like you’ve got actual blood in your veins and not just Xanax and vodka. I just wish Steve didn’t need to get stepped on for you to get there.”

“I wasn’t stepping on him on purpose. If I’d have known… all of this would have happened a lot sooner.”

“Yeah.” She heaved herself up from the couch and grabbed the remote. “Put on a movie. I’d like to keep this little stalemate of ours going at least until Steve gets back. Might help him relax a little bit. Maybe not get a coronary. But pick well,” she threw herself back down and stared him dead in the eye, “don’t make me hate you again.”

Eddie didn’t end up picking a movie, he ended up picking a tv show but either way it ended up being a winner because Sense8 was always a winner. At least that was until it actually started because…

“This show is so fucking horny, man.”

Eddie just shrugged. “It’s a good show.”

“And what are you gonna do if Steve walks in while you’re watching two men fucking on tv?”

Eddie's heart stopped and his face flooded. It wasn’t that he thought Steve would judge him or it would set their progress back or whatever. It was that Steve would be standing there while very, very, super-duper, gay, gay, gay shit was happening in front of his eyes.

Robin snickered next to him just as the key sounded in the lock and a shout of “No one better be dead!” preceded Steve’s entrance.

The phone nearly flew out of Eddie’s hand as he made a frantic scramble to skipskipskip.

Steve stopped dead at the sight of the two of them sitting on the couch, not touching but also not hissing at each other like feral cats. Eddie with what was probably a red face and his phone clutched tight in his hand while Robin tried her best to hide her smile.

“What’s going on here?” Steve asked, wary eyes bouncing between them.

“Nothing!” They both answered at the same time with vastly different inflections. Robin sounded light and jovial while Eddie squeaked, trying to conceal his panic.

“Right…” Steve gave them both a final look before he turned towards the kitchen. “Whatever happened here, I don’t want to know. I’m just glad the two of you haven’t ripped each other's hair out.”

Once he had completely disappeared around the corner Eddie turned his glaring eyes to Robin who had the biggest shit-eating grin on her face.

“You were no help.”

“Yeah? Get used to it.”

That fucking song wouldn’t leave his head and he didn’t know why.

Well that was a fucking lie.

Eddie knew exactly why this fucking song wouldn’t leave him alone. 

Freddie fucking Mercury was haunting him from beyond the grave. 

He could almost hear him, see him out of the corner of his eye. Sitting cross legged, an arm across the back of the couch as Eddie strummed on his guitar. That grin on his face. Drawling out “You’ll get it soon, darling.” 

It wasn’t even like it was a hard song to cover. 

On guitar anyway. 

Vocally was a whole different story. If anyone even thought of singing Freddie Mercury's pieces, figures would materialise out of the woodwork advising it was a bad idea. People just didn’t cover Queen. It was too difficult to do.

Freddie had a vocal range almost unmatched. He could switch keys effortlessly and often. He was iconic. Still is iconic. And almost everyone who had tried wasn't able to match up to the legend.

God, why was he doing this to himself?

A weight dipped the couch cushion next to him and Eddie nearly jumped out of his skin, almost firing his guitar across the room, convinced for half a second that Freddie Fucking Mercury had actually manifested next to him.

But the arm that was now across the back of the couch wasn't Freddie's.

"Jesus, Steve." Eddie clutched at his chest. "Warn a guy."

"You seemed very far away." Steve leaned his head against his hand with a small smile on his face. He was so pretty.

"Not that far.” Eddie shrugged. “Just a dimension or two."

“Seems pretty far.”

“Freddie’s just haunting me is all.” He said as he got up to place his guitar back in her stand along the wall with her sisters, throwing himself back down on the couch with an oof.

“Oh, tell him hi from me then.” Steve reached down, grasping Eddie under the knees and pulling his legs into his lap, causing Eddie to slip down the arm of the couch as his body was pulled forward, leaving only his head propped up at what must have been an incredibly unflattering angle.

“You could’ve just asked.” Eddie wrenched himself up to a sitting position, planting his arms behind him and refusing to think about the fact that if he wiggled his way forward just a little more he’d be pressed right up against Steve, fully in his lap. 

As it was, the backs of Eddie’s thighs were pressed against Steve’s and that was enough to kick his heart up a few notches.

Steve looked down at his legs, plucking at an old cigarette burn in the knee of Eddie’s sweatpants. They were good pants despite the hole. Soft and comfy and he did really mean to stitch it up but he kept getting distracted and then suddenly it was five years later and that same burn kept looking at him.

“You’re doing really well, you know.” Steve said in a quiet voice, staring at Eddie’s knees like they contained the answers to the universe.

Eddie tipped his head back until it hung between his shoulders and he groaned at the ceiling. “The guitar part is easy. It’s the vocals that are-”

“No,” Steve squeezed his knee, “no I don’t mean that, I mean your… your self improvement. Your getting healthy. Your-”

“Oh my god.” Eddie snapped his head back up, staring at Steve with wide hopeful eyes while his breathing got shallower. Steve had a light blush across his cheeks and was continuing to keep eye contact with the knees in front of him. “Is it happening, like is it really happening? Are you giving me a chance, are you-”

“Eddie.” Steve admonished, trying to pull his mouth into a scowl but his face was getting redder and the corner of his lips were lifting up of their own volition. “How are you such a pain in the ass? I had a whole speech planned about all the hard work you’ve put in and how dedicated you’ve been and how rough it’s all been for you but you’ve still persevered-”

“Right, sorry!” Eddie wanted to wave his hands in front of him but they were the only thing keeping him upright so he just nodded like a lunatic. “Sorry! Go ahead.”

Steve rolled his eyes and scoffed but was smiling now. “I can’t just go ahead. Especially now. I was gonna come down here and act all calm and cool and suave and deliver this great speech about how much it’s meant that you did all of this for me. For me?” Steve huffed and pinched his nose, his voice coming out a little shakier than before. “People don’t do things like this for me. And you stuck it out. You’ve kept going even during the hard days and there’ve been some really hard days. I know. I’ve seen them but you kept going and I’m so proud of you. Eddie, I’m so fucking proud. So yeah. I had a whole plan.”

Steve finally looked at him, his eyes were shining and his cheeks were still red but he was managing to pull himself back into his vaguely bitchy and disapproving façade that they both knew was fake but if Steve needed it to give him some strength Eddie would give it to him. 

Eddie would give him everything.

“I had to call Robin twice to hype me up and it still took me a half an hour to get down the stairs. Then I do come down the stairs and you’re sitting there, looking like that." Eddie glanced down at himself. 

Like what? He was in ratty tatty sweatpants and an old dark henley that might have originally belonged to Steve but he honestly couldn’t remember. He was in fuzzy socks and his hair looked like a bird's nest because he just wanted it washed and couldn’t be bothered to go though the whole curly girl thing Chrissy and Robin were trying to push him into. 

He just looked like Eddie.

“And you’re playing that song, trying to sing that song, my song and I couldn’t-” Steve clenched his eyes closed again, reaching his hand out blindly and Eddie shot forward, snatching Steve’s hand up in his own, leaning towards Steve so his centre of gravity was no longer behind him and holding Steve’s hand tight to his chest.

Steve would be able to feel Eddie’s runaway heart under his ribs but he didn’t care. In fact he hoped he could. He hoped it would let Steve know he wasn’t the only one who was scared out of his mind right now.

“Do you-” Steve gulped, opening his eyes again. “Do you still-”

“Yes, I still. I very still.” Eddie squeezed his hand tighter, pulled it harder into his chest, like he wanted Steve to touch his raw and bloody heart with his bare hands.

“Really? Even now? Even though… even after…?”

“Stevie.” Eddie whispered, heart breaking. “Do you think now that I’m sober I wouldn’t want you anymore?”

When Steve just shrugged Eddie couldn’t help himself. He reached a hand out, brushing his knuckles against Steve’s cheek before thumbing a tear away.

“All of this. Everything has been for you.” Eddie kept his voice low, trying to inject as much love as he could into the tone of his voice while he kept stroking Steve’s cheek. “It’ll continue to be for you as long as I live. Now that I know what I know, I don’t think there’s any going back for me. There hasn’t been for a while. I’ve been miserable for so long, hiding underneath substances and sex and denial that I forgot what it was like to even feel… neutral. I didn't know my own heart and you… you allowed me to be able to feel it again."

“Eddie… d’you- can I- can-”

“Do you want to kiss me?”

“Yes.” Steve almost sighed, relaxing like the weight of the world had just been gently lifted from his shoulders. 

“C’mere.” 

Eddie moved his hand from Steve’s cheek, curling his fingers around the back of his neck.

He pulled Steve forward and despite the thundering of his heart in his chest he had only intended it to be a short press of lips, an assurance, a comfort.

As soon as he kissed Steve, Eddie knew for certain that this was it for him. He was done for. He never wanted to kiss anyone else as long as he lived.

He’d never been kissed with so much emotion, with so much feeling. It enveloped his entire body. Any emotions that had previously been attached to kissing, he realised with sudden clarity, were just a general feeling of wild hornyness, crushing on someone, liking someone, being attracted to someone. 

All those were there when kissing Steve but there was so much more.

There was so much love and compassion and it was just so easy. They could have been doing this for years and Eddie found himself already mourning all the time that had previously been lost. He mourned who he used to be, the previous Eddie who had just been kissed out of existence despite his slow death over the last few months. The previous Eddie who’d thought that that life was the best it could ever get.

The poor bastard.

The kiss was wet and not exactly in a sexy way, Steve’s tears mingling between their mouths. Despite how it started, chaste and innocent and assuring, it didn’t stay that way even though Eddie had the best of intentions. 

Steve’s hand was at the back of his head, holding him close, trapping him in the best way as he leaned over him. Eddie felt his knee get batted out of the way and his legs pushed open as Steve settled between them, laying Eddie back on the couch and pressing him down as his tongue bullied its way into his mouth. Steve was well and truly steering this ship and Eddie was just happy to be along for the ride.

If Eddie’s eyes had been open they’d have rolled back in his head.

“Stevie,” Eddie croaked as his neck was being attacked by little nips and sucks that were making it very hard to think, “are you in the right headspace for this?”

Steve paused for a moment before pulling back to shoot him an incredulous look, hovering over him on those strong arms. “You’re asking me if I’m in the right headspace for something maybe sexual? How often have you been in the right headspace when you’ve done sexual things in the past?”

Eddie frowned. “Not very often, which is why I’m asking now.”

The line over Steve’s brow softened and he leaned down to place a kiss against Eddie’s forehead and damn there were those butterflies again.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Eddie shook his head, a little more emphatically than he needed to. “No.”

“Do you want me?”

“I- yes. God, baby, I don’t want anyone else ever again.”

“Okay, good.” Steve leaned down again until he was a breadth away. "Can I continue then?"

So, like…

Eddie hadn't done anything in the last six months besides use his own hand. 

And maybe some toys. 

But he hadn't had a good fuck, hadn't had a good suck in six months after having multiple of each every week for years. In hindsight it had all been frighteningly close to some kind of sex addiction.

But still, six months.

That was to say when Eddie nodded and Steve leaned back down with that smirk of his, it was like he knew. 

Knew that when he rolled his hips down like that Eddie was at risk of blowing his load in less than ten seconds.

“Don’t care,” Steve moaned into his mouth, “don’t care if it’s quick. Don’t care. I wanna see.”

And as embarrassing as it was, that’s what did it. 

Steve telling him he wanted to see him. 

Eddie came with a cry, only barely able to coherently get half the man’s name out of his mouth. It took him longer than usual to float back into his body and even then he was still a little fucked out. Six months. He scrambled to stick his hand down Steve’s pants. This he knew. This he could practically do with his eyes closed. It only took a few minutes for Steve to follow with his mouth hanging open and a beautiful little scrunch in his brow.

“Oh shit.” Eddie sunk back into the cushions. “Don’t think I’ve come in my pants since I was sixteen.”

“I’m flattered.” Steve smiled, peppering kiss over his cheeks, his nose, his forehead.

“You should be.” Eddie smiled back, leaning into the easy affection he was being showered with with so much joy.

“Um,” Steve hesitated, still pressing Eddie into the couch with his body weight but up on his elbows, fiddling nervously with his hair, “just so we’re clear on-”

“I’m with you. If you want.” He slung his arms around Steve’s neck. “We can be a thing. In a relationship. Boyfriends. Partners. All of the above. I’m yours for as long as you want me.”

“Hmm.” Steve tried to give a nonchalant shrug. “That could be a very long time.”

“I’m okay with that.” Eddie leaned up, making sure to seal it with a kiss.

Six Months Later

“So… here’s the thing.” Steve wedged himself in behind Eddie, legs on either side and pulling him back against his chest while Eddie tapped away on his game controller, swinging from building to building.

Eddie settled back, allowing his body to relax but keeping his eyes on the screen. “Mhm?”

“You remember the Sucker music video?” Steve nuzzled his nose into Eddie’s hair.

“Ugh.” Eddie couldn’t watch it. It had come out while Steve was on vacation the first time and Eddie hadn’t wanted to look at the guy who’d potentially destroyed one of the most important relationships in his life. 

Nowadays he was almost tempted to send the bitch a fruit basket. Sex with you helped me find love with someone else. Something like that.

“Right, well you know how there wasn’t enough footage for that gory online exclusive cut?”

“A tragedy, really.”

“Yeah. But the label is looking to release something small before you all start writing again, keep interest up and I was talking to the boys-”

“You were plotting with the boys.”

Steve nodded, tightening his arms for just a moment. “I was plotting with the boys and we were thinking why don’t we do some reshoots to get enough footage together and release it?”

Eddie had to pause the game and twist around. “Sweetheart, tell me you are not suggesting we contact whatever the fuck his name was and I go film with him again?”

Steve looked scandalised. “No! Jesus, no. That’s not what I’m suggesting. I’m… well we were thinking that maybe you could film it with… me.”

Eddie turned completely, planting himself over Steve’s lap and grinning down at him. “Oh yeah?” He leaned in, ghosting his lips over Steve’s cheek, coming to a stop right by his ear. “You wanna be my victim, baby?”

“I get bitten by you enough, I might as well-” Steve gasped as Eddie sunk his teeth into his neck, sucking at the skin. “-might as well get paid for it.” He rolled his hips up and any logistical talk of the video shoot completely flew out the window.

Three weeks later and the video had been released. It was filthy, it was disgusting, it was downright sexy even if that fake blood still tasted like shit. 

Though Steve didn’t really have a problem with his face being in the video, he was mostly kept anonymous. 

Quick close up flashes of his open panting mouth before a hand was clapped over it then his neck gushing blood while Eddie practically bathed in the spray. A shot of Steve’s chest as the clothes were ripped from him, a hand tugging harshly at the hair. Then red dripping handprints over his stomach and black tipped fingers pushing his knees apart and Eddie’s hand running through his hair, leaving blood streaked in its wake, were all that was seen of him.

People went fucking wild for it. It broke through to mainstream news, which Corroded Coffin hadn’t managed to do for a while. 

Christian moms were scandalised. 

Conservative men were outraged. 

Social media was thirsty.

And Steve was starting to get offers. 

Even though he wasn’t really identifiable, people in the industry who’s job it was to know these things started sending him offers for modelling jobs or acting jobs. Though Steve had originally not given them a second look, now he was starting to look.

They’d both agreed that ethically Steve couldn’t really continue on as his P.A. anymore. The thought had once scared the everloving shit out of Eddie but now… now it was okay, because Steve was Eddie’s and Eddie was Steve’s.

Two Years Later

God, he loved being on stage. It was such a rush. How had he been doing it in an altered state for so long? 

It was their first tour since all of everything with Steve had happened. 

Nearly a year and a half since he’d had to get a new personal assistant.

Nancy was like some weird mix in between Steve and the other two, Dustin and Max.  Like Steve, she knew how to handle executives and businessmen like she was speaking a second language. She was loyal to a fault. She was small and sweet looking. People didn’t keep their guard up around her. That would be their first mistake. 

There was one very memorable instance where an overly eager and quite frankly stupid paparazzo had managed to sneak onto Eddie’s property. 

It was rumoured that the new up and coming heartthrob of indie rom-coms was allegedly the live-in boyfriend of a controversial metal singer and this idiot was sure he could get the scoop.

What he hadn’t been expecting was Nancy Wheeler in her white frilly blouse and baby blue dress pants popping him on the nose and swinging her sensible heeled foot in between his legs.

It had all been caught on security footage. 

Eddie had the screenshots framed and Nancy now had them hung behind her desk in the office she had in his house. 

Like Dustin and Max, she’d worked with Steve in the past. She was an absolute wizard when it came to organisation, she didn’t treat him like a mythical entity and she could see past the big bad image to the soft squishy human underneath.

She had a bit more trouble articulating things when it came to emotion but her intentions were never bad. 

Though Eddie and Steve didn’t have an employer/employee relationship anymore, the relationship they did have had only blossomed.

Apparently they were sickening to be around, but Eddie couldn’t really find it within himself to care. He loved his boy so why would he hide it when they were amongst friends?

Robin was forced to eat her words soon enough, which Eddie found great satisfaction in, and reminded her of it often, when he’d introduced her to Chrissy.

Those two were just as bad as he and Steve.

Eddie gave his thanks to the crowd and jogged off to the wings where Steve was waiting with a bottle of water that he nearly drowned himself with, trying to swallow it all down in one go.

Steve just rolled his eyes, making sure to stay out of sight of the crowd as he did it. Neither of them really cared if they got caught red handed with each other but if they could avoid the media circus, they would.

Steve wanted to make a name for himself on his own.

“You don’t have to do this, Eds.”

Eddie nodded. “I know.”

“It’s a big risk.” Steve continued with his hands on his hips.

“I know.” He handed the bottle back to Steve. “But I said I'd do it, didn't I?”

“You did, but you can always pull out.”

“Baby, I never pull out.”

“That's a fucking lie.”

It was Eddie’s turn to roll his eyes now. “Just sit back and enjoy the show, sweetheart.”

Steve gave his ass a squeeze. “Always do.”

Eddie pinched his cheek before turning and jogging back out to centre stage amongst the cries of encore from the crowd.

“Alright, alright.” He spoke into the mic. “One more song for you all. Um,” the nerves were coming in hard and fast now as he glanced behind him towards the other members who gave him encouraging nods. 

Well of course they didn’t need to be nervous. 

They weren’t singing the damn thing. 

Eddie turned back to the crowd as a stage hand came out and handed him his guitar. “I gotta be honest with you all, I’m scared shitless of performing this song. You might be wondering what that’s been doing here all this time.”

He pointed over at the piano that had been sitting quietly in a corner, unused for the whole show.

The audience ooohed and cheered.

“Unfortunately I can’t play, but Jeff here is multi-talented.” Jeff handed his guitar off and took his seat at the piano, tapping on a few keys before giving Eddie the thumbs up.

“People get crucified for covering this band. It’s just not done.” There was chattering starting up in the crowd as they started to speculate. “No one can get close to what this man had, but god damn it, there’s someone special out there who I want to do this for. They’re his favourite band and this is his favourite song and based on your reaction I think some of you already know what I’m about to fucking do. Shit.” He sighed into the mic. “This is Her Majesty. Queen.”

Eddie had no hope of being able to improvise or vamp like Freddie once had and he would never even attempt to try. So as the first piano notes played out over the speakers he opened his mouth and started to sing.

They'd practised this song to death. The whole band was adamant that if they were going to do this they were going to do it right. They guys had practised their high backing vocals for weeks. Eddie had rehearsed the song for months.

There was no way he was going to do Freddie dirty.

By the time he’d gotten to Brian May’s guitar solo he was able to move around a little and get a good look at the crowd.

His eyes landed on a mess of long dirty blond hair and he felt his mouth drop open. 

“Holy shit.” He muttered to himself.

Julian beamed up at him, his arms wrapped around a little twink of a man with a shock of black hair wearing a battle vest that if memory served, had definitely belonged to Julian last they’d met.

“Danny?” Eddie mouthed at him.

Julian’s responding nod was elated as he squeezed Danny against him tighter. Danny himself looked completely shell shocked while something was whisper-shouted into his ear over the music.

Eddie wanted to fucking jump for joy.

With a glance back into the wings, he saw Steve muttering to Nancy, gesturing out towards them. When he looked up and caught Eddie’s eye he tilted his head in question.

You wanna bring them back?

Eddie nodded, just barely catching sight of Nancy disappearing off somewhere before he turned back to finish out the song with a bang, sending one last wink Julian’s way before the lights went down.

When he opened the door to his green room, it was to the sight of Robin trying to adjust her top and Chrissy pulling her skirt back down, both red faced and breathing heavily.

“Can’t you two go find a bathroom or a maintenance closet or something? This is my room! I’m supposed to be the one doing sexy things back here.”

“We lost track of time!” Robin said with crossed arms.

Eddie stuck his hands on his hips. “Surely the sudden lack of loud music should have tipped you off that the concert was over?”

“We were distracted.” Chrissy shrugged, looking completely unapologetic.

“Well go be distracted somewhere else, I’ve got guests coming back.”

“Who?” They asked at the same time.

“An old friend.”

Just then the door behind him was opened. 

Nancy gestured Julian through, who had a huge smile on his face, pulling Danny along by the hand who looked like he was about to faint.

Eddie surged forward, catching Julian up in a crushing hug while he laughed.

“You got your man!” He cried, practically bouncing the two of them.

“I got my man!” Julian squeezed back before extricating himself from Eddie’s arms, pulling Danny forward and tucking him in under his arm. “Eddie, this is Danny Aguilar. Danny this-”

“Hi! I- uh… yeah, I um. I know you. I mean I don’t know you. I mean I know who you are…” Danny stuttered out and before Eddie could even say anything, Nancy was at his side with a small smile and a bottle of water that he took with shaking hands.

“It’s really cool to meet you, man. I’ve heard great things.” Eddie smiled at him but that only seemed to freak him out more so he decided to give the guy a break, turning his attention back to Julian who was rubbing small circles on Danny’s back.

“So tell me, how did this happen?” Eddie asked, pointing between the two of them.

“Well,” Julian gave Danny a squeeze while he took a large drink. “It was the rumours about you actually.”

Eddie snorted. “Which ones?”

“The ones about you shacking up with some guy named Steve who may or may not be the same Steve who’s been making a name for himself.” Julian raised a brow at him. “I figured that even if they weren’t true, I’d seen you get your shit together, get sober, get healthy and it made me think I could do that too. Only one life to live, you know?”

“That’s amazing.” Eddie smiled. “I’m so happy for you, man.”

Julian blushed. “Thanks. What about you?” He asked. “If you tell me that it didn’t work out after I said all of that I’m gonna feel like a giant asshole.”

“No, I-” He felt an arm slide over his shoulders.

“I think it worked out okay.” Steve grinned at him and Eddie felt like he was falling in love all over again. “I hear you were the only one to actually say it out loud to him, so I guess I have you to thank for this.” Steve tugged on one of his curls and Eddie batted his hand away, only to grab it again and hold on tight.

“Oh shit. Really?” Julian looked between them with wide eyes. 

Danny was looking at him like he’d hung the moon.

“Yeah, really. Listen, I was thinking. We have a private space booked at a restaurant for the band and the crew and the lesbians,” Steve waved his hand in Robin and Chrissy’s direction who’d fallen into quiet conversation but now just shot him matching middle fingers, “we’d love it if you wanted to come along. Let us treat you two? As a proper thank you for helping this idiot get his shit together.”

Steve pulled him in tight and Eddie just melted.

Julian was nodding enthusiastically.

And poor Danny.

Poor Danny could only squeak in agreement.

Thank you for coming with me on this journey and I hope you've loved it as much as I have. 🖤

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 AO3

@lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring, @child-of-cthulhu, @sweetwaterangel, @anaibis, @katytheinspiredworkaholic, @littlewildflowerkitten, @hallucinatedjosten, @estrellami-1, @gregre369, @stxrcrossed186, @novelnovella, @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme, @hellowhatthehellisgoingonhere, @thesuninyaface, @messrs-weasley

[quartztwst]

Hii, sorry if this is a weird question, but it seems like you know Azul's character rlly well, so I wanted to ask - Do you think he'd be more of a tsundere in any kind of relationship (platonic or romantic) or open about his feelings? Have a nice day!

OHHH NO YOU ASKED THE WRONGGGG PERSONNNNNDKFJNAKADJSFNSNDKF i literally characterize Azul so bad i literally wrote him cooking meth and him being silly……. There’s plenty of people that do a much better way of understanding Azul’s personality and his relationships like @/pianostarinwonderland and some others nfasdfkjsk

I am the LAST PERSON TO BE ASKED THIS BC I DO TOO MUCH STUPID SHIT WITH HIM HRELPRL but I’ll give you my opinion!! Btw it’s not properly typed bc i love rambling

FIRST… AN (ATTEMPT) UNDERSTANDING OF AZUL (BECAUSE I CANNOT “ANALYZE”) IN HOW HE VIEWS RELATIONSHIPS:

From what personal stories and the game shows, Azul views relationships as transactional. YES I KNOW EVERYONE HAS SAID THAT BUT IT’S SUCH A MAJOR TRAIT IN HIS PERSONALITY. It’s just the truth.

In his stupid PE uniform R personal story, Azul sucks at flying (AS EVER) and Vargas pairs him up with Jamil to help his pathetic attempts. Jamil is obviously annoyed and proceeds to try to help Azul but Azul replies with a “what do you want?” CLEARLY THINKING THAT JAMIL WANTS SOMETHING OUT OF HIM FOR HELPING AZUL FLY ON A BROOM. Jamil doesn’t.. Like he doesn’t care he just wants to get this over with

But you get what I’m saying. Azul’s way of relationships isn’t really.. HEALTHY?? He views relationships as beneficial and transactional. You give and you take… but with friendship!!! It’s not a very healthy way to live but hey, what do you do when you’ve been bullied into nothing. He’s probably been in the “hey, my friend likes you” joke that “those” kids do.

(Okay idk why I said that its actually hurting me while thinking that I’m literally taking damage)

Anyways, what I’m saying is that he’s been treated as a joke by his peers and he probably does his contract deals to be treated seriously. I know it doesn’t sound irrelevant because I’m fucking typing what’s coming to mind but I feel like it’s connected to how he views relationships.

Also take a note on how he also views the tweels. (YES THEY ARE BEST FRIENDS THEY JUST DONT WANNA ADMIT IT). They aren’t servant and master like Jamil and Kalim but they are together like a business deal. They assist Azul and in return, it better be fun for them. (AND THEY WILL NEVER LEAVE AZUL I SWEAR THEY ARE BEST FRIENDS THEY ARE-)

We also need to take a note on how his parents are divorced. This can also affect a child’s view on relationships. (YES HE DOESN’T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT HIS BIOLOGICAL DAD JUST LET ME SPEAK)

He has never spoke of his biological father and praises his step father in which he calls “father.” It’s either Azul doesn’t give a fuck about his dad or just forgot about him which is understandable. (Why remember when he doesn’t serve a purpose in your life but your birth?)

But it seems like his mom and step father have a good relationship since he mentions that they get along well and are a good couple which probably will inspire Azul

So what i will piece here is that Azul finds relationships and friendships as transactional but if he were to find an actual SERIOUS romantic relationship, he’ll try to make it work. Also him and the tweels are besties.

SECOND… THE ACTUAL FUCKING QUESTION… TSUNDERE OR OPEN???:

(This is in a Azul Ashengrotto x Reader (Prefect) way)

Personally, I kinda like tsunderes……………… so like a tsundere Azul I would love a lot. Idk i love it when characters get flustered but I wouldn’t think Azul would be a tsundere unless it depends on the person.

In friendships, he would probably see you a business transaction. Someone that will benefit him but he would be kind of sweet??

I MEAN LIKE in a way he would gift you a small souvenir from a school trip.

You know during the City of Flowers trip, he bought the Tweels a souvenir. I would like to think you were at the level of the tweels………. But you’re not.

He gifts you a sweet souvenir and he suddenly says you owe him LMAOOOO

He offers to tutor you and you suddenly owe him

He offers to give you a SMALL discount and then you suddenly owe him

A LOT OF TRANSACTIONS but he cares about you and it benefits you.

He would probably tease you a little too

HOWEVER… ROMANTICALLY IS CONFUSING..

Let’s say he has a crush on you. He’s kind of embarrassed and probably tries his best to hide it a lot BECAUSE HIS ASS IS BY THE TWEELS ALL DAY. A SENSE OF WEAKNESS AND HE’S PROBABLY TEASED LMAO.

Floyd: “Hey, Azul, why are you staring at Shrimpy for so long?”

Azul, has no idea what the fuck is happening to him: “.. Me either.”

At the start, it’s probably so confusing for Azul.

He probably had crushes in elementary school but since he was bullied, he probably saw himself as undesirable which made him keep the feelings to himself to prevent further bullying.

So he’ll try to hide it. SO like OH HE’S FACING YOU?? He’s turning away. He was a bit too comfortable to you?? BYE YOU NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN. He brushed his hand on yours? Omg he’s like 6 feet away from you. I’M EXAGGERATING but he’s a little distant.

And it’s not like he’s visibly flustered. He’s very good at what he does.

I wouldn’t say he would be tsundere but shy and fucking scared LMAO

He’s trying his best to not show signs of affection to you because he doesn’t know how you feel about him

After accepting it, he doesn’t know what to do next. He doesn’t know if he should confess or just let it fade away because his previous crushes faded away.

Azul is a very observant mf so I feel like he would try to observe how you act around him to make his judgement on if he should make his move. (Ew that’s creepy.. but i meant it if you actually feel comfortable around his company or if you feel hostile around him)

His FIRST MOVE… is a FUCKING TRANSACTION.

Azul: “Prefect, I’ve been noticing how awful your study habits are! I’ve been wondering if you need any tips or assistance with it. I would be happy to help you study and be your tutor! … F-For a price of course!”

He’s trying ok. Take it or leave it.

He thinks as long he is beneficial to you, you might find him a bit worthy to have your attention and also it’s to up his confidence

He continues to make these small and helpful transactions and deals until he gets a little more confident.

I feel like he would think his flirting is obvious but his reputation pictures him as a sneaky guy that it doesn’t look genuine.

He is trying his best to look genuine but with his reputation… ermm.. sure buddy.

Azul probably has a plan to get you to date him idk like not in a EVIL SCARY way but in a desperate and pathetic attempt

So basically uh

HE’S TRYING HIS BEST TO BE OPEN 👍

When y’all start dating i feel like he’ll end up more open to you. Gifting you stuff and being on dates.

I adore tsundere Azul still

This is mostly just rambling and things i would think would fit Azul in MY OPINION I’m not good at writing Azul seriously