#as with last year this is not restricted to songs that came out this year just songs that i heard this year and liked

[toji-girl]

wrapped around | villain! t. amajiki

synopsis: All you wanted to do was move on from Tamaki who took a turn from hero to villain, but why can’t you stop thinking about his indigo eyes even though he’s on the other side now?

wc: 4.6k

tags: dark content (read cw) + 18+ ONLY content + explicit smut: minors and empty blogs DNI + not beta read + he's ooc + repost from my blog + my writing style was different years ago + tentacle play+ Quirk play + bunny! reader + gagging + wound care + makeup sex + biting + rough sex + pet names + vaginal stretching + fluff in all this porn + multiple tentacles in one hole + dubcon + yandere! Tamaki + overuse of Bunny pet name + spitting + oral f! and m!+ fingering+ hentai references + porn + fem! masturbation + aphrodisiac (?) + cum play + possessive! Tamaki + nipple play + mentions of ovulating+ unprotected sex + breeding + mating press + finger sucking + dumbification + womb flooding + creampie+ tummy bulge from cum inflation.

AN: so I wrote this maybe close to four years ago, not sure how I came up with the idea to write something like this honestly, he is very OOC though! but I wanted something new with Amajiki, also please forgive my old formatting lmaoo.

Rain pattered on the roof trickling down the windows coupled with the bolt of lightning flashing in your bedroom drowning out the soft noise of the TV but it wouldn’t matter anyway with your phone propped up in your hand, moans streaming from the device.

Instantly your stomach curled thinking of the thought of the indigo-colored-haired man with eyes to match. 

The orgasm that you’ve been chasing for the last forty-five minutes finally ended with you kicking the blankets off, throwing the toy and phone down on your bed as you sat up, looking around for your shorts, flinging pillows, and everything to the floor.

It’s been weeks since you’ve thought of him and now you were wondering why you had to think about him in a time like this. You scratched the base of your soft floppy ears as you looked around and sighed seeing the pillow that Tamaki had you hump for hours overstimulating you until you were sobbing and clinging to him to stop.

Part of you missed him but not the way he acted in a relationship. It was a mystery how you stayed with him for so long.

Another sigh left your lips while swinging your legs over the bed placing them on the bare floorboard, another crack of thunder shook the house flickering the lights as you adjusted the oversized sleeping shirt you wore pulling it over your shoulder, another sound startled you.

Someone knocking hard and rapid on your door, your ears perked up when you heard him.

Calling your name like a mournful song, Tamaki’s voice wavered as he leaned against the door knocking again, “Please, bunny, let me in.”

Your heart restricted in your chest hearing your nickname. It was something that he only ever called you even though you hated your stupid Quirk. Everyone got cool ones or even none at all but nothing at all has to be better than being a bunny.

His voice came in again begging, “I-I’m hurt.”

Chewing on your bottom lip you walked to the front door barely opening it. Wind and rain hit you like needles. Tamaki sat leaning against the doorframe now holding his side. Indigo eyes met yours.

“Tamaki?”

You crouched down and moved a piece of wet hair from his face to scared to get closer to him, “Bunny.” Tamaki wrapped his fingers around your wrist pulling you closer, “I need help.”

You aren’t stupid. As soon as he asked for help you knew what happened, it was either some bar fight or he got into a scrap with a Hero which you happen to be ironically enough.

Your brows pulled together as you moved his hand from his ribs seeing a medium size cut, blood pumping from the torn flesh only darkening the fabric of Tamaki’s shirt. “What do you need help with?”

“What do you think?” He hissed covering the wound again.

“If you want to be like that Tamaki you can go fuck off. Why did you come here out of all the places? Let me guess you and Dabi got drunk and tried to fight someone.”

Tamaki winced and smirked as another clap of thunder startled you, “Still scared of storms, huh? Let me in and I’ll protect you.”

You raised an eyebrow and played with your ears catching his attention. He knows you too well, his eyes burned the side of your head. You felt way too vulnerable in front of him like this, your shirt stretched over your knees but Tamaki already got a glance at your bare cunt.

“Hello? Bunny. Let me in.”

You turned back to glare at him feeling your heart sink in your stomach seeing the pain in his eyes. His hair wet and matted covered most of his face along with his hood but you saw the flash, “Oh, damn you, Tamaki. Tell me what happened then I’ll let you in but I swear if you try anything I’ll hurt you.”

He rolled his eyes and laughed followed by a wet cough, sighing you kicked the door open and grabbed Tamaki by his elbow pulling him to his feet, “Shit,” he cursed, swaying on his feet. With your arm wrapped around his waist, you guided him to the bathroom with his hand gripping your shirt leaving bloody handprints.

“Sorry.” He looked down at your shirt pulling the sticky fabric from your torso, “Don’t worry about it.” You said not looking up to meet his heated gaze. It’s only been four months since he’s last seen your face and that was when you two were screaming at each other about how the relationship wasn’t going to work.

How could it?

A villain and a hero?

Tamaki took his shirt off, tossing it on the floor, and leaned back against the sink holding his arm up, “What the hell happened? The skin is all jagged.” You muttered looking at the wound while washing your hands.

“Dabi was sleeping with this dude’s girlfriend and they got into it. Of course, I’m going to help my friend out.”

You looked at him pulling gloves on before grabbing your first aid kit, “Have you been sleeping with anyone’s girlfriend?” You didn’t mean for your question to come across so cold but you barely trusted him in the relationship and knowing he’s been running around for months single you didn’t have any reason to believe him.

Tamaki sighed and shut his eyes hissing when you applied a bandage to the wound, “Careful bunny,” he said through gritted teeth, eyes opening to slits, “can I still call you bunny?”

You rolled your eyes despite feeling the ache between your legs or the way you were sure that at any given moment your heart was going to explode when you met his gaze, the feelings he still has glittered behind the mischievous grin that spread across his lips.

“What?”

“I’m waiting on my answer.”

You sighed,and focused on the gauze, “I do have a name that I know you know.” Came your answer, short and simple that’s all that was needed because you could feel the sexual tension building faster and faster brick by brick sitting on your chest suffocating you.

“Yeah, that’s true but I like bunny,” he replied gently flicking your left ear making you glare at him, Tamaki chuckled and winced when you pressed in. “Do try to remember that I’m treating your wound, now you answer my question.”

“What?”

“What caused this? And was this really all over Dabi and some hookup?”

You stepped closer pressing your stomach against his hips looking at the jagged flesh, your tail twitched when you felt Tamaki caress your stomach, “It was, I never lied to you no matter what you think. I might be a villain babe but I would never hurt you, I would burn the world down for you. I would do anything you want me to. You’re still my queen.”

Tentacles wrapped around your throat stilling your movements.

Tamaki leaned in ghosting his lips against yours releasing your throat, “I was serious when I said I wanted to run away and get you knocked up.”

You couldn’t help the ugly laugh that bubbled from your open mouth irritating Tamaki who leaned back and watched as you looked back at him, a serious look taking over your face.

“Runaway and get me knocked up? I’m sorry but I told you that I don’t want to live a villainous lifestyle let alone with a baby? Do you even know how to take care of a baby?”

“I took care of you, didn’t I?”

You leaned down and grabbed the alcohol squirting it on the gash, “Fucking hell you-”

“I suggest you watch how you talk to me Tamaki, you came here and interrupted my plans to help your ass now don’t be so rude.”

He kept quiet and still watched as you sewed his wound shut. You revealed the wincing in pain and hissing Tamaki let out when you tugged just a little too hard, “You’re being rough.”

“And I thought you liked that?” You asked placing the bandage over your work and glanced back up at him taking your gloves off. “Now I have to take a shower, you can let yourself out.”

Another tentacle wound itself around your wrist protruding from Tamaki’s hand, “Can I join?”

It’s not a good idea, the moment he asked you cocked your head to the side tugging your shirt down, “No, and you know why.”

He frowned and leaned back against the sink, “Can I at least take a shower after you at least?”

His voice didn’t come across confident anymore instead it wavered watching you play with the hem of your shirt again, fingers twisting in the fabric. Your ears twitched and flopped over as you avoided Tamaki’s gaze. If you looked at him it would be all over.

“You can’t take one with your bandage, let me clean you up.”

It wasn’t like he hasn’t seen you naked before but when you slid your shirt off tossing it in the hamper Tamaki cleared his throat feeling his cock throb, “Keep staring and I’ll poke your eyes out.” You growled making him laugh.

“You’re so cute when you get angry.” It was out of habit when he reached out fingers coming in contact with your ears scratching the base softly, he watched your eyes roll to the back of your head and body go lax.

It was always a different sensation when someone else rubbed your ears or stroked your tail with the occasional squeeze that left you dripping.

You hated yourself when a small whimper left your lips bringing you back to reality as you grabbed the shirt hanging from the back of the door pulling it on, “Don’t touch me again. I’m serious.”

“Got it,” he said raising his hands up slowly before taking his shirt and pants off balling them up, “can I wash my clothes then?”

“You’re being awfully needy, when your clothes are dry I want you out. You’re lucky I’m letting you stay this long.”

Tamaki nodded his head and pushed his hair and hood out of his face, a new scar coming into view. Jagged pink flesh beginning to heal and spreads from the end of his eyebrow to his jaw, somehow adding to the beauty that is the man who brings so much chaos to your life.

“What happened?” You asked, walking out of the bathroom with Tamaki behind you.

“My scar? Dabi and I got into a fight with a couple of your Hero friends. The bunny woman and that stupid bird.”

“Rumi and Keigo? I’m going to assume it was Hawks who gave you it.”

His laugh was his response as he broke off and entered the kitchen sitting on the barstool looking around brain flooding with so many memories, you and him dancing music playing in the background dinner on the stove, or the times he held your legs open fucking you hard like it was his last time over the counter.

You padded back in the kitchen grabbing your plate from the microwave handing it to him not ignoring his looks until you snapped, “God damn it Tamaki did you come here in hopes that we would get back? I told you that it can’t happen. We can never work out, we want so many different things.”

Indigo eyes looked at you hard and unforgiving before dissolving into despair and something pitiful, “No, I told you why. Your house was close and after Dabi left I had to find somewhere and I really can’t go to the hospital after what we did last week.”

“Yeah, you’re wanted for grand theft and so many more things I couldn’t even list them.”

Tamaki shrugged his shoulders and picked at the food, the image of him hunched over barely eating not acting himself tugged at your heartstrings. More than anything you wanted to wrap your arms around him letting him know that you still love him.

You still love him.

A fact you did not want to surface as he sat half-naked and dripping wet on your barstool.

It didn’t help the fact that you also wore a top that covered the tops of your thighs.

“If you really want me to stop doing all of this,” Tamaki gestured to the new wound and old battle scars, “I would do it, I’d do anything to be with you again bunny. You don’t have to believe me but I love you, and I will forever. I might be a bad guy but I want to be a good guy for you.”

His sudden confession was enough to make your head snap up to look at him feeling the pit in your stomach widen. Your heart raced in your chest making you dizzy. It was all you and Tamaki fought about the last couple of months of the relationship, the thing that finally drove a wedge between you two.

“You can’t come back and say all of that when I begged you to stop, every night I was worried you weren’t going to come home and I stayed up waiting for you to get back drunk and mean.”

You felt proud for standing up for yourself, it was something that finally needed to happen.

“I know and I can apologize for that or try to make up for it now, I screwed up my first chance and I promise I won’t do it again.”

Your bottom lip quivered listening to his words but his actions are what you needed to see.

“Don’t cry bunny,” Tamaki slid off the barstool before walking over to you wrapping you in his arms, the sudden contact broke the dam you’ve been holding in. After months of not being held or human contact, you melted against him clinging like you were scared if he let you go then you’d disappear.

He felt warm.

And familiar.

“Shh, I’m here now, I’ve missed you.”

His words were the last nail in the coffin. With your arms wrapped around his waist, you buried your head in his neck tasting the salty tears that streaked his bare skin, “I’ve missed you too Tamaki. Damn it, I haven’t been with anyone since we broke up.”

When you pulled your head up to look at him Tamaki smiled and kissed your lips softly at first barely pressing together then his hands are cupping your cheeks deepening the touch between you and him, he wanted to be greedy and grope your flesh, hungry and needy. His tongue tasting every inch of you until you were crying for him to stop.

He wants to make up for all these missed months but it was happening too fast, your hands worked on his belt trying to pull his pants down, “Hey, wait a minute. Shouldn’t we talk first?” Tamaki asked, hooking his finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Do you want this as much as I do?” Your voice came out strained and foreign, “Tamaki. Don’t make me beg, please. Only you know how to help me cum and that’s what I want, I want to cum.”

Each word only constricted his heart and dick, it wasn’t fair for him to finally have his dream but the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

“I’m trying to keep my hands off of you but you keep begging for me to touch you and I don’t want to be an asshole bunny, tell me what you want me to do to you.” Tamaki demanded, his voice and personality shifting to the Tamaki you love the most, the one who roughs you up, gives you everything you need without even having to ask. Your body was a map that he knew front to back, your sighs were different calls for things that you liked.

No one else knows you the way he does.

“I like it when you’re an asshole,” You whispered, grabbing his hand and putting it between your legs, rough calloused skin brushed against your clit.

“Do you?” Tamaki asked, grabbing the back of your neck with his free hand, “But I know what you really want.”

You felt his hands turn into tentacles sucking at your flesh, the sensation barely there but you could still feel it when one suction-cupped to your clit drawing the swollen bud in as another tentacle probed your pussy spreading your slick lips apart.

“Oh my bunny, you are so wet.” Tamaki groaned using the rest of his appendages to lift your shirt up, tentacles wrapped around your breasts squeezing and massaging, “Tamaki.” You begged, what for? You weren’t sure.

“I know, I’ll take good care of my sweet girl, have you been neglected? I know you were using one of your vibrators, let me guess were you watching hentai?”

Your eyes glassed over in embarrassment even though you and he watched countless videos of all sorts trying to bend your bodies in almost impossible ways and after bruised shins and foreheads Tamaki suggested using his tentacles which soon became an almost everyday thing.

A tiny mouth wrapped around your nipple latching on the bud drawing each pulse from your core like an echo. The tentacle that was working on your pussy finally pushed its way inside, one at first stretching you out as it flattened against your cervix, you felt incredibly full.

You groaned and rolled your head back gripping Tamaki’s arms moaning looking at him, the need for him so obvious that he took a step back wiping his forehead returning his limbs to normal, you gasped and fell forward a little catching yourself.

“Why did you stop?” You asked panting.

“Because if I keep going I won’t be able to stop myself until you’re nothing but a mess of cum, drool, and tears. I haven’t been with anyone since you bunny.”

Another confession that stunned you momentarily before you ripped your shirt off closing the gap between you and Tamaki, “Are you worried that if we do this then I’ll kick you out afterward? You would have to take care of me if you have your way with me.” You smiled and dipped your hand in his pants stroking his cock finally, he sighed softly and kissed you pressing his tongue in stroking and tasting.

It wasn’t enough, both of you wanted more, greedy and hungry for each other. Tamaki snarled when you sank to your knees yanking his boxers down to his knees letting the fabric pool. You kept your hand around the base of his dick before your mouth was sucking him in, your throat nice warm and wet.

Fireworks burst inside your stomach when he moaned your name, your toes curled as you took him in deeper using your saliva making it easier to take his length, “I forgot how cute you look with my cock in your mouth.” Tamaki grunted snapping his hips ramming his dick further down your throat.

Tears stung your eyes as you held onto his thighs and let him hold the top of your head using your mouth for his own pleasure, the wet slaps of his balls hitting your chin echoed through the kitchen. He hissed above you grabbing a chunk of your hair pulling you off with a wet pop.

“Stand up.” Tamaki helped you to your feet quickly, “Tamaki!” You squealed, surprised, “Remember your wound?” A laugh fell from you, shocking both you and Tamaki who watched you lovingly, “Don’t lose that laugh, it’s the best sound in the world, and don’t worry about my wound sweetheart, I won’t strain myself.”

With your arm around his waist you walked with him to the couch laying on your back spreading your legs, Tamaki kneeled between them, you watched again with hazy eyes as his fingers turned into tentacles that wrapped around your thighs spreading your lips apart, both you and Tamaki could hear how wet you were.

Thankfully it was dark in the living room aside from the random flashes of lighting when you saw the look in his eyes.

Tamaki was starving and the only meal that could feed the insatiable feeling sitting in his stomach was you.

“When was the last time you came?” He asked abruptly, still eying your drooling pussy watching it pool around your ass, the tight hole he’s thought about exploring but that would have to be saved for another time.

“It’s been a while, I haven’t had sex with anyone and nothing has been able to make me cum.”

Your voice came out breathy and whiny as you shifted your hips feeling the suction back on your clit.

“Oh, fuck,” You curled your fingers around the couch dropping your head back keeping your back arched trying to shut your legs but two thick strong tentacles kept them apart, “Don’t be so shy now, I’ve seen this pussy bouncing on my cock so many times I’ve lost count.”

Your flesh burned like a wildfire watching as he pulled the tentacle off your clit to drag it up your slit gathering the wetness, he pulled it back looking at how your slick dripped, “I haven’t seen you this wet in such a long time bunny, I’m sorry you haven’t been taking care of, I know just the spots,” he broke off thrusting a tentacle in your cunt suction cupping to your walls keeping still.

Your eyes went wide with your mouth going slack feeling the fat root slowly crawl deeper spreading your walls to an almost impossible width, “Tamaki- wait s’big,” you whined trying to scramble away from the pressure between your legs, “Just for a second bunny, I want to make sure I can get you pregnant.”

His words didn’t register in your blissed-out brain when he began to move the tentacle slowly in and out, he leaned down and spit on your stretched cunt. Tamaki’s eyes sparkled hearing the lewd sounds coming from something so delicate, the way you took him was impressive.

Your eyes focused enough to see him pull back putting his hands on your breasts, flesh against flesh. Thumbs rough brushing over your nipples pulling them into aching peaks, Tamaki bent down wrapping his lips around the bud circling it with his warm tongue.

“Oh, more, more,” You babbled feeling the tentacle go deeper rubbing against your cervix feeling it soften with the secretions that pumped through your now opened cunt which leaked cum from the orgasm that took you by surprise, cum frothed around the base of the tentacle as your body jerked.

“You’re ovulating aren’t you?” Tamaki asked, pulling away from your breast. You opened your eyes blinking a few times before nodding your head slowly, his words bounced in your brain a few times before you sat up, “Are you sure?” You asked wrapping your arm around his shoulder pulling him down pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, “If you really want a baby then breed me please, I want you to pump me full.”

That’s all he needed to hear before pulling the tentacle from between your legs, you gasped loudly going from feeling so full to empty in such a short amount of time, “Give me a warning-” You were cut off when Tamaki flicked his tongue against your battered pussy, your clit throbbed in his mouth as the wet muscle turned into a tentacle sliding back in your cunt probing at your cervix again.

You whined, throwing your head back curling your fingers in Tamaki’s hair, feeling the large muscle thinned at the tip pressing you open, “Tamaki!” Your voice came out hoarse so did the protests when you felt the tentacle pierce your cervix making way to your womb, the pressure in your stomach snapped sending your body into a frenzy of tingles and a hot flash, “What are you doing?” You gasped grabbing Tamaki’s hair pulling him up, “Hey,” He snapped rubbing his scalp, “calm down, first of all, my tentacles secretes this substance, let’s think of it as an aphrodisiac so that’s why when you had your first orgasm it took you by surprise and when I fuck you I can fill your womb with my seed breeding you like the dumb little cock slut that you are.”

His words were dirty and filthy but his tone came out sweet and promising.

You reached for his cock wrapping your fingers around the shaft jerking him off, “I need you now, please.” You begged him, “Wait a minute, bunny, okay? Don’t you want to make this last?” He asked, chuckling watching your pussy twitch and drool again.

“No!” You rolled your eyes.

“You asked for this, I’m going to give you what you want and you’re going to take it, do you understand me?” He asked, holding your jaw thumbing your bottom lip blindly trying to thrust in you hips snapping wildly against yours battering before he finally slid in bottoming out.

His cock slipped past your cervix easily fucking into you deep and hard feeling just how soft and wet you really are past the normal barrier of your cunt.

Tamaki growled pinning your hips down as he thrust in and out with his head buried in the crook of your neck, his arms now hooked under your armpits pressing your breasts against his chest rubbing your nipples over his rough flesh.

Your poor cunt pulsated around Tamaki’s cock hot and velvety squeezing him, he didn’t want to cum just yet but it was getting to the point where he couldn’t take it anymore so he pulled out despite both of your protests, “I can’t cum just yet.” He said thumbing your pussy apart watching your cum trickle down, he scooped it up and sucked on his fingers groaning.

Tamaki sat between your open legs pressing sweet slow kisses to your inner thighs suckling on the slick flesh from your orgasm, “I don’t want to wait anymore, I don’t care when you cum just fuck me now.”

He laughed again turning his fingers into tentacles once more shoving two of them in your gaping hole at once thinning the muscles straining against the sudden intrusion, “Fuck!” You cried feeling tears stinging your eyes as they streamed down your cheeks.

“I got to get you ready some more, just relax bunny.” He soothed, kissing away your tears shoving them deeper, spreading you open more pumping another round of aphrodisiacs in your dripping cunt, your body went into a paralyzed-like state, liquid ecstasy flowed through your veins drawing your orgasm higher and higher.

Tamaki yanked the tentacles out of you before plunging his cock in feeling you clamp around him sending you into an orgasm that curled your toes and fingers making you cry out loudly, drool dripping down your chin pooling around your neck as your pussy twitched sending Tamaki into his own orgasm losing control of his hips ramming against you chasing his climax.

Your name came out in guttural groan when he filled your womb hot and sticky with his seed over and over until your stomach swelled with his cum leaking out from your pussy.

Tamaki kept fucking you sending both of you into overstimulation, your cum creamy around his dick as you came over and over again pushing Tamaki into his last orgasm, snarling like a wild animal pinning you down ramming his cum in your womb watching your tummy bulge.

He pulled out hearing the wet squelch of your cum soaked pussy. “Are you okay bunny?” Tamaki asked, laying down, pulling you in his arms.

You were fully fucked out, “I’m fine,” You replied snuggling against his chest feeling your eyes droop shut.

Tamaki wrapped his arm around your shoulders pulling you into his chest and placing a chaste kiss on your forehead, “Now you’ll be mine forever.” He whispered.

[maeumi-jng]

hiii!! i love ur writing it’s absolutely adorable 🥹🫶 i was wondering if you could write something about riki & reader and maybe the reader is just a little older than him like a few months to a year? and they are very adamant on giving him his space especially since he has dealt with… so much from older fans. but riki rlly likes the reader and he’s frustrated because he doesn’t want her to think of him like a kid maybe 🤔 but reader likes him back she is just scared bc she feels like what if she makes him uncomfortable? but then it has a happy ending because they talk it out & jungwon helps them 😭🫶 totally understand if u don’t want to take this request! even if u don’t, it’s alright i love ur writing sm

kiss her you fool

pairing: idol!riki nishimura x idol!fem!reader, childhood bsf!yang jungwon x reader

synopsis: riki likes you. you like him. if the maths is right, you should be together. but riki left one variable unaccounted for. or in which riki must get to the bottom of why you are withholding your feelings for him if it's the last thing he does

warnings: reader is a year older, ANGST, mention of c-19, DISGUSTING OLD CREEPY FANS, mentions of sexual harassment, insecurity, problems of young debuting and discrimination, and crying, jealousy, swearing, appearance of riize's anton, riki being an absolute menace but a communication king 😤, romantic confessions, cringe but fluffy, proof-read before dinner soooo ☺️

word count: 2k+ library: enhypen bookshelf

author’s note: it's my first request 😭 i got youuuuuuu. i didn't mean for this to get so um well sappy and sad, got a bit carried away with the 'older fans' thing, but thank you so much for requesting! i hope this is up to par ♡︎ // song rec is titular but not really incorporated

You had made a mistake.

A very big mistake.

Liking Riki Nishimura.

How exactly that happened... well almost four years ago now, in 2020.

The practical shut down of all things physical in the industry. No concerts, no fan meetings, no live performances, restricted filming... the entire world had gone quiet.

Yet, as humans had done since the dawn of time, there was adaptation. Online concerts that were pre-recorded and emphasised stage performances, masked filming with very few staff, well.. masked everything...

And in the midst of all of this, was I-LAND. The survival show that would form a new boy group. The same show that your childhood best friend, Yang Jungwon, was participating in. As his friend, former label mate, and a representative of BigHit, you were very enthusiastic, promoting the show when you could on your lives and consistently voting for him, producing the theme song, even coming on the last episode with your seniors.

Jungwon did it. He got first place. With almost 1.5 million votes. To withhold all your tears that day was a heavy task. You didn't want anyone to think that the votes had been manipulated due to your influence so you had kept a bit quiet about your relation to Jungwon. But you were just so proud.

People eventually found out soon though. Months before ENHYPEN was to debut with the claims that it just made sense that you two were childhood friends.

Along with him came six other people that you would soon make lifelong friends with, Heeseung, Jay, Jake, Sunghoon, Sunoo, and Niki. You debuted quite early and despite being the youngest leader ever to debut and the maknae, friends were hard to come by (surprise surprise). So you welcomed these with open arms. Any friend of Jungwon was going to be a friend of yours.

You cherished all the members in their own ways but you couldn't lie and say Riki wasn't special to you. He reminded you of yourself. So young yet so passionate. Furthermore, he was Japanese. Living in a foreign country by yourself at such at such as young age... it had to be tough.

So in a way, you took him in. By that you meant your mother had basically accepted him as her son and you took care of him as if you were his older sister. You helped him with his Korean, your mother invested into learning Japanese cuisine so he didn't feel too homesick, always sending you with tiffins of food to the company or to the dorm, you stayed by him during the tough times... you made sure that he never felt alone, even for a second. You promised him.

The thing about debuting so young was that it often attracted the wrong type of people. You had gone through it and were still going through it despite turning twenty soon. Older fans... they seemed to love you. Especially, older men. From shouting your name loudly and asking for cute poses at fan signs to genuinely asking to marry you and specifically positioning their cameras at a certain angle to capture under your skirt... It was beyond you.

And Riki was going through the same thing, primarily with older women. Asking to marry him, seeing him shirtless, inappropriate fan fiction... the list of crazy was endless.

But your group and especially ENHYPEN wasn't having any of it. You all tried to the best of your ability to protect Riki but it just never seemed to stop. There were just so many weird people out there. It was infuriating.

You stuck to your promise. You made sure Riki felt safe and you could tell it was working. He was always honest with you, at his most vulnerable. He could share anything with you and he'd feel comfortable. You were the one person closest to him, there was no doubt about it.

But then you had to fuck it up. You got feelings.

You didn't realise it at first. But by the end of last year, you were sure. The long hugs, the stares that lasted a second more than they should've, Riki's abrupt clinginess... all of the mundane things were suddenly making you flustered and open the opportunity to having arrhythmia with all your fluctuating heartbeats.

You weren't sure what to do. It terrified you. How were you any different from the older fans? Well, of course there was a difference. But that year difference between the both of you... it was imposing.

So you did the only thing that made any sense to you. You gave him space.

You thought the space you were giving wasn't too obvious. You just wanted Riki to feel lighter and free.

But he noticed.

Immediately.

Riki noticed your wide smiles were now brief, the fewer texts you shared, the pathetic excuses you made to not hang out as much, the way you never sat with him to eat your mom's food... that the space you gave him was also physical given that you no longer sat right next to him but opted to sit diagonal to him (that way you weren't invading him too much).

Riki wasn't the type to beat around the bush. He directly confronted you. A trait that came naturally to him but was only furthered by the ever so direct Jungwon.

When you told him that you just wanted to give him a bit of space, given that he was older now and the whole plight of dealing with his 'fans'... Riki was in turmoil.

On one hand, an ever small part of him was touched that you cared so much. Not that was a surprise. You had the biggest heart he had ever seen.

But for the most part, he was frustrated. See, the thing was... he liked you too. A lot. Maybe too much for a normal human. It wasn't that you took care of him like a sister (if anything that combination would've made him throw up), but it was just you.

You entirely made him like you. Before he debuted, Riki was a big fan of you. He admired your work and passion, especially for as someone as young as you. Not to mention, he's pretty sure that you're the prettiest person in the entire universe. Never did he think he'd actually meet you. But then you visited I-LAND, twice. Once for the theme song and second for the last episode. And Riki was in awe of you. He couldn't believe it!

But that was nothing in comparison to finding out that he was debuting with ENHYPEN, a group that so happened to have Jungwon, your childhood best friend, and would often meet you to have their songs produced and composed.

And then you took him in.

He remembered it like it was yesterday. Heck, he could never forget it even if he tried.

You found Riki head down, crying alone in the dance practice room and you were immediately by his side. He was having an internal crisis.

It had been a few months since he had debuted and everything was going so well. ENHYPEN was popular. But his Korean was barely up to par, he couldn't keep up with everything that was going on, it was fuzzy in his head, people were commenting on his ethnicity and his looks in ways that discriminated him, he missed authentic Japanese food, he missed his annoying sisters, he missed his dad, his mom... he missed home. God, in that moment, he just wanted to go home.

You sat next to him, listening to all his worries quietly. By the time he was finished, he looked up at you with puffy red eyes that made your heart ache and apologised for burdening you with his problems.

He actually apologised.

For a moment, you were speechless.

So being an experienced person (well a year by age and a few more by career), you did what anyone else would do. Well, you hoped.

You wiped the remaining tears off of his face with your thumb and held his hands with yours. You looked him directly in the eye and told him, "You having nothing to be sorry about, Riki-ah. This... this is all normal to feel. To some extent, I know how you feel. I promise you that you'll get through this. I'll be by your side the entire time, hmm? I'm won't leave you alone. I promise."

With that, you brought him into a hug that he reciprocated. And this was the very moment Riki began to have feelings for you. After all of that and with everything you had done for him, how could he not like you?

Riki's frustration was beginning to peak. Ever since you told him you were giving him space, he had decided to the complete opposite. He was going to be up in your business 24 fucking 7 (if he could).

If you were going to sit away him, Riki would make his hyungs move so he could sit right next to you.

You were too far from him? He'd drag your chair close to him.

Your poor text response rate? Unannounced, Riki would walk into the room, rest his head on your lap, and scroll through TikTok, showing you all the videos he found funny.

But he needed to up his game. They say that flirting is a mastery of sort. It takes time, skill, finesse, if you will. Riki, however, is a fast learner.

"Cute hoodie, noona. But you'd look better in mine."

Backstage, you found him waiting outside your dressing room, on his phone. You sighed, shaking your head. "You're a living nightmare, Riki. You know that?"

Riki looked up from his phone, a smirk tugging away at his lips. His eyes grinned at you with their hanging lids. "So you do dream about me? That's nice to know."

When you gave him your most miffed expression, a soft laugh fell from his lips. "You look so cute when you're mad, noona."

The other time you were at HYBE cafeteria. You had finally given into your stomach's needs after slugging away for hours at a song. You spotted a nice yellow iced cupcake... it was calling your name. Just as you went to pick it up, Riki's hand intervened. His fingers brushed against yours, making you immediately retract your fingers. "R-Riki... yah, I was going to get that."

"I know," Riki said, amused by your flustered expression. "I'm going to get it for you."

Then came RIIZE's Anton. An idol who happened to be the same age, also produced music, also spoke English, had the most softest voice known to mankind, devilishly handsome, tall without stupid vitamins... and happened to be shipped heavily with you by everyone and their mother.

Also known as: Riki's worst enemy.

You were both coming out of the studio when Riki had caught the both of you on the way. From how he saw things, he didn't like it one bit. He didn't like the eye-smile Anton had when he looked at you nor did he like the smile you had at the poor joke he had cracked.

Hands shoved in his pockets, Riki stopped in front of you, interrupting your conversation. "Oh, hey, noona."

"Hmm? Oh, hey, Riki. Anton, this is–"

Completely ignoring the Boston-born but moved to New Jersey whatever-the-fuck guy, Riki just smiled at you. "Noona, you look so pretty today. What's the occasion? Me?"

You went home and screamed in your pillow that day (and apologised profusely to Anton (he said it was okay because anyone with a single brain cell could tell you and Riki were close)).

You had had enough.

The next day you had stomped into the dance practice room with Riki and Jungwon following after you because you had met them just as you were entering. Closing the door, you turned to your childhood friend who was placing his bag down.

With one hand pointing to Riki, "Tell him to stop it."

Jungwon raised a brow, looking at you incredulously. "Stop... what exactly?"

"I– stop... stop this," You stressed when Riki shuffled closer to you.

Jungwon looked at you helplessly. He knew how you felt. But he also know how Riki felt. In fact, he was the one who suggested him to be more obvious with his feelings... resulting in this. Clearly, Riki had misunderstood being obvious with being a bit more invasive. Probably, Jungwon's fault... What you two needed to do was communication.

Just as Jungwon opened his mouth again, he watched you push Riki so he stood a metre away from you. "Stay over there."

So much for communication.

Riki pursed his lips, pretending to ponder your suggestion. He took a step closer to you. "But I want to be next to you."

Your eye twitched in frustration. "Riki!" You cried out, balling your fists around the invisible air with annoyance. "Can't you just stop? I told you... you need space. With everything that's being going on for three years... I'm worried about you."

All the humour that was sported by Riki had disappeared in the matter of seconds. He chewed down on his lip, eyes darting around the room, registering what you had just said. He sucked in a sharp breath. "I'm not a kid, noona. Not anymore. I'm older. I have thoughts. and... I have feelings too."

You blinked, letting out an exasperated sigh. "I know but... I just... I just wanted you to gave some space. Some time to think for yourself as a person. It's important for you."

Riki's tongue poked the inside of his cheek. His eyes fell to you, meeting your tired gaze directly. "You said you'd never leave me alone."

Your eyes suddenly softened at his words while your heart ached. "Riki-ah, I'm not–"

"You promised, noona," Riki whispered, a flash of hurt crossing him. He took a step closer while you took another back. "You're afraid of something."

You furrowed your brows. "W-What? I'm not afraid–" You started to defend yourself but Riki cut you off again, not heeding to the warnings Jungwon was calling out.

"No, you are. What are you so afraid of, noona? Tell me... we can fix together. This time I'll help you," Riki persuaded, still inching towards you.

"Riki," You breathed out. God, you were a mess. All you emotions were everywhere. You didn't know what to think... what to say. "Why are you making this so difficult?"

Riki's hands stretched out, encasing yours with his. "I'm not making anything difficult. I think you're just in denial. In denial that I really like you. In denial that you like me just as much."

Your heart skipped a beat at the sudden confrontation. The guard you had built for the past few weeks had come flying down after taking every hit from Riki. "I... I don't wont you to feel uncomfortable," You confessed, "I don't won't you to feel pressured because I'm older than you... because of everything we've done together."

"Noona, I–" Riki's shoulders fell at your admission. God, the fact you were even thinking of that was entirely disheartening. "I don't feel pressured at all. You could never make me feel uncomfortable. I– you're the only person in the universe who actually makes me feel comfortable. No offence, hyung."

Jungwon raised his hands, gesturing his acceptance and dismissal at the same time.

Riki kept his eyes on you, hands tightening around yours. "I'm grateful for everything you've done for me but that's not the only reason I like you. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you. You might not know it but you welcome everyone with open arms, the most beautiful woman I know, but don't tell my mom that, you're so smart, hardworking, caring... you make me want to be a better person. You make me happy, noona."

You blinked rapidly. Were you dreaming right now? Was this a prank of some sort? You removed your hands from Riki's, using the tips of your fingers to pinch your skin of your wrist. A small yelp slipped past your mouth.

Riki jumped slightly, startled. His hands immediately returned to yours, gently rubbing the affected area. "Noona," He chuckled, "This is real. All of it's real. My feelings for you are real."

"Just making sure," You laughed softly before sighing. A wave of heat washed over you and your mouth felt dry. What were you to say now? How do you respond to something so silly yet so valid?

"You can just say you like me, noona," Riki said, eyes beaming down at you in amusement.

Of course you had said that out loud.

You sucked in a sharp breath, slowly exhaling. "I... I like you, Riki," You mumbled.

Riki narrowed his eyes. "I can't hear you," He teased, grinning from ear to ear.

"Nope, nope." You retracted your hands. "I take it back. I'm taking it back... right now."

Riki laughed, reaching out for your hand, only to pull you into a hug. He lifted you gently, spinning you around with pure happiness rushing into his brain.

"Riki," You cried out, "I'm going to feel sick," You said, even though a full blown smile was on your face.

"It's okay," He retorted back, slowly coming to a stop and putting you back on the floor. "If you do..." His hand darted out to push back your hair behind your ear. "I'll take care of you. I promise."

After a brief minute, Riki turned to the empty area where Jungwon once stood. "Where did hyung go?"

"I think he left after you said I was beautiful," You cooed.

A flush of red tinted Riki's ears and cheeks. He folded his arms, getting defensive. "I... Well... it's true!"

© maeumi-jng | do not copy, post (repost is fine!) or translate anywhere else! thank you ♡︎ requests here!

[auroracalisto]

i was made for lovin' you

fem!plus size!reader, 2.4k words summary: the reader loves benedict bridgerton. when he dances the night away with her dear sister, she wonders if her love is perhaps... unrequited. a/n: my initial note for this fic was: i was the chubby unpopular insecure girl in school. i'm still the chubby girl. and i need fluff today. so that's what's gonna happen. i initially started writing this... last year. it's been over six months ago since i've touched this. the title is totally from the kiss song. tw: bodily description, vague description of anxiety, momentary insecurity, but it's brief!!

Curves adorned your body in a way that remained otherwise unknown to so many others. Thick thighs hid beneath layers of clothing. Your stomach pressed against the fabric of your top, threatening to squeeze the very essence of life out of you. But you stood there, discomfort climbing its way up your spine, threatening to call you out for being a fraud. You lived in peril, awaiting the blossoming of the flower of insecurity and fear.

No gentleman would ever look your way, even with the most expensive of clothing. Liquid gold could be dripping from your fingertips, and not one of the men in the 'ton would give you the time of day.

At least, that is what you told yourself. That is what you had believed since the time you could register the fact that you were the thicker girl.

And it's not that you hated your body. No, that was far from the truth. You had come to love yourself in your own way, trying your best to live with what the world had given you. But you knew men, and you knew the gentlemen of the 'ton. You were treated differently, just because of your size.

You were different.

But he never treated you as if there was something wrong with you. No, Benedict Bridgerton was your dearest friend, but you couldn't help but feel as if he never truly cared for you in the way that you cared for him.

The way that you loved him.

You had yet to properly talk to him, knowing his elder brother hosted the ball of the evening. It wouldn't surprise you if Benedict was busy entertaining other gentlemen—entertaining your sister, perhaps.

The clothing you wore that night was flattering, for the most part. You couldn't deny that. Your mother had chosen well for the ball, keeping your mind at bay. She had impeccable taste, regardless of the crude comments that so often left her rouge lips. But despite the clothing, despite the restricting fabric, you couldn't help but watch and feel less than others around you.

Especially when you knew the man you favored was out there, fawning over your sister (not even liquid gold would work in her favor—she merely needed to raise a finger, and men would fall to her feet, begging for a chance to be hers).

The beautiful women who danced passed you, hand in hand with a suitor or with a dear gentleman. Their dance cards were nearly filled at this point. The stunning men wore beautifully tailored suits, sending smiles and small nods to those they spoke with. Well-rounded pencils would need to be sharpened before too long.

You stuck out like a sore thumb in the corner of the ballroom, drawing imaginary attention right to your very soul.

Your dance card rested in the palm of your hand, not a single gentleman's name residing on it. Like many balls before, suitors avoided you—or perhaps, you avoided them. Staying in your safety corner seemed to be the best bet, but you knew it would catch up to you (eventually).

There wasn’t a possibility for a suitor to come to you, unless he wanted whispers to be spread. You were an outcast.

You made yourself an outcast. But perhaps our worst enemy came from our very own minds, taunting us and keeping those we love far, far away.

Had you been your elegant sister, dancing the night away with the handsome Bridgerton boy amongst many other men, maybe you would have felt more comfortable.

Her card was completely filled, and now, she milled around with her friends, looking for a gentleman to speak with. The season wouldn't last forever.

And you knew it.

The season would be over in a heartbeat, and you would be left without a single name on your dance card.

How incredibly frustrating. You knew you were beautiful. You knew you had a grand personality, fit for that of a gentleman. You were smart and intelligent and you knew how to do so many things.

But standing here, you felt as if your clothing was choking you to the point of no return. It didn't matter that you could read a book in a day, or recite your favorite poetry. It didn't matter that you learned to cook from your favorite maid, or that you could write a piece of prose so beautifully it brought tears to your delicate sister's eyes.

Warmth flooded throughout your body. You hesitantly pulled up the fabric of your skirts and made your way to the crowd, finding the cool night in an instant. The chill of the breeze cooled you down the best it could, but it could only do so much for the roaring fire in your mind.

Your mother would surely have yet another snide comment about the fact that she did all this work just for you to avoid the crowd. Your father would listen silently, but you knew he agreed. He always did.

Your sister would yet again set on a suitor, her beauty and gracefulness the only blessing upon your family. She would be set for life while you die a lowly spinster.

Maybe she would bless you with a quaint cottage of your own. She'd be able to marry the richest man in the 'ton, if she was so pleased to say yes.

You walked closer to the fountain that sat in the middle of the courtyard, eyes closing as you came to a stop. The chatter and music from the manor wafted in the air, and the smell of freshly trimmed grass plagued your nose. Goosebumps appeared on your skin as the air around you only seemed to get cooler. Perhaps outside wasn't your best decision, but anything was better than the scrutiny of roaming eyes.

Solitude found you best, creativity striking you when you were all alone—most of the time. Today, it only brought you a fraction of the comfort you sought.

Despite your indiscretion, you weren't alone for very long.

"Lady L/n?" a voice came from behind you.

Your eyes shot open and you looked over your shoulder.

Benedict Bridgerton.

He had danced with your sister nearly three dances ago—you hadn't seen him since then.

He sent you a soft smile, relaxing when he saw you.

"May I ask what you're doing out here all alone?"

"I could ask you the same thing," you said. "Sir Bridgerton."

His smile only grew.

The two of you had known each other far longer than you would ever admit, and every time you saw him reminded you of why you fell for him to begin with. But he belonged with someone else—he would be good for them, and marrying into a family of money would secure the safety of the woman's future and her family's future.

You would take what you could get, even if it meant waiting until your father made you a match… if even he could manage such a feat. He quite hated the idea of society. It was your mother who pushed him into the world, making him do good by the ‘ton and his family name.

Benedict deserved someone good—someone who would boost his status in society, and always be there to love and care for him.

Many weren't so lucky with their marriages (your mother and father, for example).

"That's no way to talk to a gentleman, now is it? Whatever would your dear mother say if she were to find out how you speak to me?" he asked, feigning offense as he placed a hand over his chest.

"Trust me," you said, turning to face him with a soft smile. "I promise she will find little problem with it when she knows you are on Katherine's card."

"Hm," he tilted his head as he watched you. "And who have you danced with, Lady Y/n? I have yet to see you out on the dance floor tonight, and now I find you all alone. It feels as if autumn is already upon us. Surely you don't want to catch a cold as well?"

"I have danced with no one," you said, looking back at the fountain. "And you surely shouldn't be here with me, alone. Quite a scandal you'd create for your sister to cover up."

"Is that not why she is the Duchess? So I can create whatever scandal I dream of?"

You could practically hear the smug smile on his face, but you didn't turn to face him. Your arms hesitantly wrapped around your torso as you continued to stare at the flowing water.

"Y/n?" he softly spoke, coming to stand beside you. "Are you alright?"

His hand touched your cold arm and you immediately pulled away.

"Should you not be back inside with Katherine?" you asked. "It will be quite a scandal if you were to be out here with me."

He furrowed his eyebrows. "What is with you and scandals? Nothing of the sort will happen. I'd much rather spend the rest of the evening with you."

You frowned. "If you must, perhaps we should return inside. You should sign my dance card to keep my mother from asking questions."

"I would do so, gladly, Y/n, but I did not think you wanted me to do so," he said, eyebrows furrowed as he spoke.

"Why wouldn't I want you to?" you began, averting your gaze. "You know me better than I know myself."

He tilted his head curiously. "I do believe there are things I've yet to acquire," he said, gently taking your hand as he spoke. This time, you didn't pull away. "Whatever is the matter?"

"You are a dear friend, Benedict," you said. "I would never want to do something to put our friendship in jeopardy."

"Perhaps you will if you continue alluding me so. I asked you a question, my Lady."

A beat passes, the music coming from inside becoming light and jovial for the newest dance. Your sister was already dancing with another, enjoying herself and smiling all the while. Not that you could see.

"Y/n, please," he said, voice barely above a whisper—defeated, one could safely say.

"I care for you," you said. "If—if my sister is what you want, if she will make you happy, then by all means, you have my blessing."

He blinked slowly at you, lips parting to speak, but you speak first.

"I understand why you care for her so. She is beautiful, and she will be an excellent wife. She is so unlike me. She... she will make you so unbelievably happy, Benedict."

"Wait."

His fingers laced with your gloved hand as he gently pressed his other to the side of your face, making you look at him.

"Where is this coming from?" he asked, allowing his hand to drop. "Who said... who said I was interested in her?"

"No one. Nothing needed to be said for me to assume. Did I assume correctly, Lord Bridgerton?"

He chuckled softly, tilting his head as he watched you. "Not at all, my dear," he said. "You are so far from the truth that it is quite... comical."

"Comical?" you blurted, looking up at him in disbelief.

"Your sister was... helping me. I had planned to ask you in such a grand manner that I needed some assistance. Perhaps her planning skills would be far superior to mine when it comes to an event such as... well..."

"An event? What—what have you been planning, Benedict?"

His eyes softened. Were you blind? Or had he been so secretive with his feelings for you that you remained oblivious to the fact that he loved you more than life itself?

"Benedict, please," you said. "We do not have all night. They will notice we have left the party, soon enough."

"I wanted to know what would be best to ask you," he said.

"Ask me what?"

"To marry me, Y/n."

Time stood still. Big eyes stared up at him in disbelief, lips parted as you swam in an ocean of words, but nothing broke the surface. Was he serious?

"Benedict—"

"—will you marry me, Y/n?"

"I—"

"—I had planned on asking you soon, with flowers and a ring, and perhaps a grand occasion so the gentlemen knew you were taken, but—"

"—Benedict..."

He looked down at you, eyebrows furrowed. You were going to say no. He could see it in your eyes.

"You want to marry me?" you asked, hand holding onto his. "You... do you... I care for you, deeply, Benedict."

"And I, you, Y/n."

You searched his eyes for a sign—for an answer, perhaps. You had dreamed of this night for so long, and here it was, front and center. He cared for you. He wanted to marry you.

"I will," you said.

He released a breath, suddenly pulling you into his arms. You said you would. Yes. The answer was yes. Benedict would marry his best friend.

Benedict fought the urge to kiss you, despite knowing you would allow him.

“Let us return,” he softly said. “Perhaps you should inform your mother of your latest rendezvous.”

Your eyes widened a bit.

“Of course, I will be with you. Wouldn’t she enjoy seeing that?”

Your lips spread into a soft smile. “Yes. She would.”

Benedict took your hand and led you back to the porch. No one else stood outside.

“I will return first,” he softly said. “I will find your sister, and then, I will come and find you.”

“Oh, you do not want a scandal, dear Benedict?” you asked, a grin forming.

His eyes hardened as he looked back at you. “Would you like a scandal, Lady Y/n?” His voice betrayed the look he gave you, and instantly, his hard look dissolved into a smile. “Allow me to return. We will have enough gossip to go around once the news has broke in the ‘ton.” He took your hand again and pressed a kiss to your gloved knuckles. “Until we meet again.”

“I will see you inside,” you said, smiling all the while.

Benedict left you, and you waited merely a few minutes before you returned. You remained blissfully ignored, and for once, you appreciated the fact. You found your mother in an instant, and only when Benedict found you again did you tell her the news.

[jinxedmuse]

best friend - lee sohee, 이소희

in which: your best friend sohee offers a "no strings attached" relief from the stress of your relationship but finds himself falling in too deep.

an: don't know if you guys have listened to sohee's playlist but he has a lot of romantic songs on there, mainly best friends to lovers centric or heartbroken ones and it made me want him even more..

warnings: cheating, accidental overstimulation, rough sub!sohee, multiple orgasms, lots of whining and begging from sohee, lowk manipulative, degradation, pet names, oral, sohee is older than reader by like 4 months, reader's bf is eunseok...

playlist: sex eden, get up newjeans, like you do joji, to. ex taeyeon, i feel it coming wknd

wc: 2.1k... been going feral over sohee the last couple of days, had to get it out my system, consider this my comeback?

movie nights at your place on friday were a mandatory tradition you've had with your best friend, lee sohee for over five years.

this year, due to a recent (almost a year) addition to your life (a boyfriend) the sense of freedom that came with this night significantly decreased. what was supposed to be a night to catch up with your best friend, free of stress from external sources had turned into check-ins with your boyfriend every hour or so and an uncomfortable amount of distance between you and sohee, physically as well.

this wasn't necessarily because your boyfriend saw sohee as a threat, i mean, he looked like a mini duck you win at a fair or something. sohee is shy but humorous, mischievous but respectful. yet your boyfriend always felt like something was (in his words) "off" about how sohee always stuck at your side sometimes s little too literally and close for comfort.

you dismissed it, insisting your close relationship had stemmed from a bond built off being relentlessly teased together since high school. that, "sohee isn't like that. we're just best friends is all. trust me" you'd say, fully believing yourself as well, because how could your relationship ever change after 5 years?

easy.

you were currently sending your boyfriend his 3rd "update" within the past hour. you hear a loud sigh coming from sohee's side of the couch. you finish sending your text before looking up.

"i know, i know. sorry, you know how he is, just overprotective is all" you say in defense, already knowing what your best friend was about to complain about.

sohee doesn't face you, instead, laser-focused on the movie you both were barely even watching. trying to ignore the heavy change in dynamic ever since you got into a relationship.

"i know" he starts whining, twisting the hem of the throw cover that was over his lower half, a heavy feeling in his heart. "it's just that we hardly get to hang out together as it is, and when we do you're glued to your phone."

you weighed on his words while looking at him. his voice was soft and shaky but showed no signs of tears in his eyes. his beauty marks scattered all around his face, some trailing in his collarbones and ears. fueled by a sudden pang of guilt you toss your phone onto the table in front of you and crawl over to shoes side of the couch. earning a sly smile from the smaller-framed boy.

"this close? how scandalous" he jokes, opening up the throw cover so you can get underneath it with him. safe distance, of course. you sling an arm around him immediately earning a groaned laugh as he tries to push you off. you tussle his hair until his grip gurns into more of a pained restrict with one hand and he lands you onto your back.

sohee is now on top of you, both his legs at each of your sides, his necklace, part of the set the two of you had although you haven't been wearing yours recently hanging in front of your face. his oversized shit that was a little too big for him leaving a gap between the collar and his neck, chest slightly exposes.

you were too engulfed in his scent, clean laundry, one you've always found comforting, to realize he was full-on staring at your lips. a hard-on slowly forming and straining against his cargo pants.

"why do you keep forgetting i'm older than you, huh?" he teases. the truth is sohee is older than you by 4 months. however, when you first met (since you were already in the same grade) you were so adamant about dropping honorifics. insisting that technically you were "same-age friends."

once you realize he's staring at your lips your mouth suddenly goes dry, and you push out a forced laugh. trying to ignore the heat coming from between your legs, suddenly realizing how heavy he feels on top of you. You couldn't bring yourself to push sohee off despite how wrong it was. this was still innocent, right?

"i didn't forget," you say, your own eyes now stuck on his pink lips "i just don't care." you tease back, trying to overturn the situation but his grip remains steady, not letting you get up. just feeble squirms now and then.

do you not see me as a man? he asked, it was a whimper the way it came out so whiny. you giggle at this, not taking the boy on top of you seriously.

he tilts his head, sizing you up and down. eyes stopping right at your boobs, your nipples hard and visible through your thin shirt. he shifts his weight so that now he's sitting directly on top of you. his bulge that was now rock hard right over your heat. "don't you want things to go back to the way they were?" he asked innocently.

you feel like a spell had been cast on you, his slight pressure on your cunt caused it to flex around nothing, aching to be touched but you couldn't do that to your boyfriend. you shake your head in disagreement. "what do you mean sohee, and why are you still on me idiot" you ask jokingly, trying to lighten the tension in the room now. the movie was long forgotten.

"oh cmon' he starts again, "don't you ever get bored of" he gets interrupted by your phone ringing, a special tone you had set for only your boyfriend. it was starting to piss sohee off.

why was his precious time with you always getting interrupted by your insolent waste of a boyfriend? "of that" he grunted out, dipping so that his member was now grinding down on you. you hold back your moans, throwing your head back. ashamed at the amount of pleasure you felt.

this isn't right, you tried to reason with yourself. you have a boyfriend, sohee is your best friend, but fuck, does it feel good the way he was messily rutting himself against you. practically dry humpin' you.

"sohee." you managed to choke out through moans "this isn't right" you object, fighting your hands from going up and pulling him closer to you.

"it's not cheating if you don't do anything back, just let me make you feel good please, huh princess? don't you remember how good i was? don't you want to know how much i improved" he asks, leaving slopping kisses down your neck, his slim hands roaming all over your body, tugging at your clothes.

he was currently referring to back what happened on a hot summer day during freshmen year up in your old tree house that barely fit the growing bodies of two best friends. you can still remember how hot it was, sweat sticking to your bodies before you had even started anything.

your frames uncomfortable in the one-size-too-small tree house, it was awkward, but it felt so sexy back then, and yet as soon as he was done, the reality of what you had done hit you and you couldn't look at each other for a week once school started.

once you got over it, you vowed to never do something as reckless to your friendship as that again.

2 years later during senior year, you fucked. you were each other's first, and you both wanted to "get it out the way" as college was right at your doorsteps. the nerve-wracking idea of losing it to some stranger didn't make sense, right? i mean what better way to lose it than in the back of your first car, during the first snow of winter, with your best friend, for your first time?

you had both pushed it aside. vowing it was just to not be behind your college peers and to never speak of it again. not wanting to add to the statics of why "men and women can't be friends", whatever that meant. sohee entered and left a few relationships after that. always breaking them off because he got bored after a certain point. he was single right now, opposite to you who was in a relationship.

this was wrong. every fiber of your being knew it was wrong but it was the first time you and sohee were alone together in a while. His eyes were full of lust, everything about him currently oozed sex appeal and you wanted him badly. there was no denying that with the way your cunt kept clamming around nothing, begging for attention.

sohee takes one of his hands and brings it down to your cunt, the heat he feels coming from it is almost instant. "look at you, acting like you don’t want it but you’re so fucking turned on right now" he says as he rubs his hand onto your clothed cunt.

you bite your lip, holding back a moan at his vulgar words. "it's a normal bodily reaction if you’re practically humping me, i have a boyfriend." you beg, eyes leading yet your body betraying you every time he gently rubs your pussy.

"who do love more?" he asks getting closer, “my boyfriend" you pathetically strain out at a last attempt to redeem yourself for doing this. he licks your ear lov slowly, biting the too which earns a moan from you before trailing back down to your neck with small wet pecks. his hand was still on your cunt and you were now grinding onto it.

"who makes you feel better huh? me?" he asks when he gets to your breast, he removes his hand from your cunt earning a desperate mewl from you, immediately missing his touch on you.

"look at you, rutting your desperate little pussy to get some relief from your best friend, but you expect me to believe you love your boyfriend? huh, whore?" he growls in between sloppy kisses and sucks to your nipple, twisting them every time you shook your head to try and tried to deny his (very true) allegations.

he watches as your back arches from the sofa a bit, his aching cock begging to be freed but he isn't satisfied yet. he takes the other hand that was holding both of yours up and brings it down to your cunt, slipping into your extremely short shorts and going over your delicate panties

you were already wet, his fingers slipping against your puffy lips way too easily. “look at you~~~~" he says in a mocking tone, "all wet for me, baby? beg and i’ll make you feel good" he taunts unto your ear. you nod your head immediately "please sohee, f-fuck i need you to touch me"

"i’m sorry slut, what was that?"

you chase his fingers, eyes teary at his teasing "please, hee fuck me" you cry in desperation, nails digging into his shirt, pulling him closer.

at this point, you were too horny to care about how desperate you seemed, becoming an incoherent mess full of whining and begging.

sohee falls completely apart, drooling at your blubbering mess, he likes two of his slim digits, pointer, and middle finger, and thrust them into your throbbing cunt, curling them slightly,

your back arches almost completely off the couch, both your hands gripping his forearms in pure bliss, eyes shut in concentration on how good it all feels.

his slim digits entering and exiting you with such precision and a bit of roughness, curling up in all the right spots had you panting excessively, beads of sweat already forming on your forehead.

the faster and harsher he went, occasionally bringing his yup to play with your budded clit, you clam harder around him. suffocating his fingers, they dragged out of you in a way that made you see stars when you were dizzy.

"fuck-fuck, hee i think, nghnnn, i'm about to, fuck, come" you wring it, spit at the side of your mouth from it being slack open as you moaned underneath him, chest heaving up and down

your pathetic state doesn't take away from sohee's own though; he's as much of a whining, moaning mess as you are. his head all foggy from how pretty you looked underneath him, sweat coating your soft skin as your puffy lips were wrapped around his fingers. his member was practically budging out of his pants, beads forming on his forehead in concentration but last minute he got an idea.

he pulls out his fingers with a swiftness that makes you practically cry. your eyes snap open, a pout as you look at him. confused at this sudden action. "let me stuff myself inside you and then taste your cum, huh? what do you think about that princess~~" he asks in his usual teasing voice. moments like this when he was giving you brain fog you remembered he was your best friend.

but that didn't matter right now, you needed to be fucked dumb. so you just nod your head like a pathetic bitch in heat and he smiles, quickly unzipping his pants and pulling down his boxers.

his dick is now free and you almost faint at the sight. he was clean-shaven, with balls the perfect size for you to cup in your hand. he wasn't huge or even too thick but he was long, long, and veiny, his dick was a light hue of pink while his tip was beaming red. streams of pre cum endlessly flowing out. you moaned at the sight, looking at it with begging eyes.

he's satisfied with your reaction, knowing you hadn't seen it since that night two years ago during senior year in the back seat of your car. he suddenly felt like he was on top of the world, an ego boost surging through him as he watched how you looked at his member longingly.

he gives his dick a few pumps over your cunt, his cum leaking onto you, "you want me to stuff you baby? all bare while you have a man waiting for your call?"

his questions bring heat to your cheeks, God you were such an asshole for this but you needed sohee so desperately you felt like you were going to cry if you didn't have him inside you. you watch the way his cum leaks into you as he's pumping himself above you and you find yourself subconsciously bringing up your lower body so your cunt could meet up.

he pushes you back down, a smirk on his face

"be patient, it's the least a whore could do" with one last painful squeeze he takes both your legs and put them onto his shoulders, he aligns himself with your core and spit on his hand, slapping your cunt one last time before inserting his tip into.

you let out an animalistic mewl at how much pleasure that simple act gave you but you barely have any time to adjust yourself before he slams himself fully into you

you try to pull back away, but the pressure was too much, you looked down and felt like you could see his cock slamming in and out of you. it was so slim and long that it hit all the right places on the first try. your chest was heaving up and down the same way it did after you ran a marathon or chased after your bus. the amount of pleasure you were experiencing was driving you crazy, he pulled you back in by your waist, eyebrows furrowed.

you felt so full like you were about to pee. "I can't; fuck i'm-close can't take it" you cry out trying out again to back up but he takes both his hands and cozily and pushes himself deeper into you, he hit the spot that makes you cum and as if on the command you do exactly that. a mix of squirting and creamy come going all over his balls and coating his base, even getting on his toned stomach. fuck he was in love

the sight of you coming and moaning all because of him has him doing the same, he holds your waist in position and cums in you, not pulling out until you were full of every last drop of his seed. you felt yourself practically getting filled up as if you had just eaten. the feeling was pure ecstasy, your boyfriend always pulled out even when you begged.

you stare at each other for a moment, what was once lust got replaced by something else which stirred a desire in the pits of your stomach. you get interrupted by the rining if that special tone once more, you start to reach f for it but sohee grabs your hand and slams it down next to you.

"don't," he says sternly. it was supposed to sound like a command but it almost sounded like he was begging, pleading for your attention to stay on him. you nodded with starry eyes, still coming down from the incredible high he had just given you.

he crouches down and you sit up halfway on your elbows sorta confused, suddenly he pulls your in and hurridly barries his face into your cunt. it started a lot romantic as if he were making out with your cunt. delicate kisses to your inter thigh, slower pulling on your lips, and tender licks on your clit. you sigh in bliss, but you lose your balance when he strikes his tongue into your core, a finger at your clit playing with it in a circular motion that has you moaning profanities.

his tongue would occasionally go flat to slurp up the combination of both your juices, your cum mixed was now coated on his tongue and around his offy pink lips, he ate you out like he was a starved animal. his grip on your hip grew firmer the more you moaned his name. his dick was now slightly hard again and he found himself pathetically rutting against the couch as he ate you out to offer himself some form of relief.

you come again, this time in his mouth and he doesn't waste a second licking up all your wetness, moaning at how good you taste, drowning you in praises for coming for him twice. your leg was shaking, toes curled at the overstimulation when suddenly siri starts reading out loud a recent message sent 1 minute ago:

"eunseokie says: 'why haven't you been answering? i'm outside, i'm coming up now.' one minute ago. Would you like to reply?"

"NO", you yell out in a rush, sitting up and suddenly too aware of your current state sohee lifts his head, he sees the look on your face and knows his fun with you is over.

sohee purposely drags his tongue out of you at a slow, painful pace that ears one last moan out from you before he sits up, throwing his head back onto the couch while pulling up his boxers and pants, stuffing his still aching cos into them.

you get off the couch and look around for your panties but they are still in sohee's pants, you bend down and reach for them from his pocket but even with his eyes closed he gets a grip on your wrist and shakes his head. "don't even bother"

you let out an exasperated huff, legs still far too weak to be arguing right now. you calculated in your head and realized your boyfriend, eunseok should be coming up in approximately two minutes. you take a crumbled-up napkin from your table and use it to wipe anything off yourself before moving sohee out of the way you were down the couch before tossing it in the bin.

you then grab the throw blanket you were wearing and throw it into the washer, tossing in a random detergent before starting it.

"c'mon, sohee don't do this to me you have to go before he gets her-" your sentence is cut off by the sound of keys jiggling.

sohee gets up, and he looks at you in a way that makes your heart hurt. he runs a hand through his hair before he leans in to kiss you, catching you completely off guard. you don't let yourself enjoy the kiss, backing up before wiping your lips with the back of your hand, eyes almost popping out of your sockets.

you hear the door open and sohee smirks, smiling as he makes his way to the from. you follow loosely behind him.

sohee and eunseok met right at the door as sohee was bending down to finish tying up his shoes.

"ah, hyung nice to see you again," sohee says as he pulls together his most polite smile, even sticking out his hand for a handshake. eunseok looks down at it and shakes it, giving a curt smile as he enters.

"are we close enough for you to call me hyung" he asked, you'd be lying if you said he didn't look good. jet black hair parted to the side, a cocky and passive-aggressive smile plastered on his face. sohee noticed the way you looked at eunseok and felt bitterness grow in his heart, and that was the one thing he had never been.

you clear your throat and approach your boyfriend, slightly limping before wrapping your arms around his neck, eunseok drops sohee's hands and pulls you into an embrace by your waist. it hurts slightly because sohee was just gripping them but you plaster your fake smile, holding back a whimper of pain. sohee looks at you both before he heads out the door.

with you still at his side, eunseok holds the door handle, watching the younger boy in front of him with daggers.

"ah, there's something on your lip, over here" eunseok points out to the younger boy, pointing a finger to his top lip to point out where the "thing" is.

soheee brings his finger up to where it is and looks at his hand after, it was your wetness, still on his face, in front of your fucking boyfriend. you mentally face-palm yourself and pray to the universe your boyfriend is too fired to guess what that is.

sohee drags it into his mouth, strategically sucking on his finger with an innocent smile. "thanks hyung, reader gave me a nice, warm, toaster struddle earlier. i'm a bit of a messy eater tho" he says with a slightly narcissistic laugh as he shoves his hands into his pocket, you can see in one pocket he's fumbling with something, your panties to be exact.

yeah, time to wrap this up, you thought to yourself before tugging in eunseok's long-sleeved leather jacket, you pulled him back before giving sohee a curt nod and apologetic smile that only the two of you knew.

sohee's heart felt heavy, and you couldn't put it into words but yours did too. he gave a nod back as if all was fine as if he understood but you could tell by the look on his face that his heart was breaking right in front of you and you were the cause, you slowly shut the door but your boyfriend locks it before you could even register the situation you almost got caught in and the heavy feeling in your chest.

eunseok pulls you away from the door, sighing as he walks and leads you to your living room, the living room where you just came twice.

you look up once you hear eunseok cough a bit and let go of your hand, plopping down on your couch.

"by the way, why is the washing machine on so late?'

--

an: hey! muse here, how'd you enjoy this short nonsense i whipped up after almost 6 months(?) of ghosting you all, haha.. but really, if i told you guys everything that happened to me since what i last dropped, you wouldn't even believe me. i'm still quite busy but i missed you guys, and i missed writing. i'm not going to make any promises on how frequently i'll update but for now, fuck it, why not say i'm back lol. i hope you guys enjoyed :)

[vroomvroomcircuit]

The World did not end

(A/N): 'ello and welcome to my first F1 fic. I'm quite new here (not to fanfic or tumblr, I mean F1), but I want to give back to the F1 community, since you all helped me out tons during a really rough period these last couple of months.

Pairing: Lando Norris x platonic!reader

Warnings: mentions eating food, death of a loved family member, grief, it sounds sad, but it's actually pretty sweet and hopeful (it's based on a tiktok trend), English is not my first language btw

Wordcount: .7k (she is a shorty)

Masterlist ______________

Finding Mclaren’s reserve driver crying in the cafeteria wasn’t what Lando expected to stumble upon, when I went to check out where the repeating music came from. It sounded like a sad song that could land a high spot on his next Spotify wrapped.

“Uhm, (Y/N), what’s wrong?” he asks gently as he approaches the table. After a startle she turns off her phone, which has been playing the music. Frantically, she wipes her tears. It still does nothing against the fact that she has been crying and that her blood shot eyes are very visible.

Lando shakes his head. When people think Oscar is an introverted person, she is the masterclass of introvertedness. Like, the last stage of a pokémon evolution. That’s why seeing (Y/N) cry in a semi public place like the cafeteria calls for concern.

“There has to be something. The food here is not that bad. I mean, I have the same reaction when I see fish being served, too. But today I felt like the meals were rather good. So do tell. What’s bothering you?”

First she shrugs, the twenty year old not being able to find her voice immediately. “The- the world didn’t end when I was 13.” The tears are coming back again, restricting her voice once again.

Lando gathers her into his arms. even though he doesn’t understand what is happening at all. Does that matter right now, though?

The girl needs another minute or two until she is composed enough to explain the reason behind her crying. “There is this Tiktok trend going viral right now. It’s about people saying what mundane things they are able to do, or-or which things they have achieved, and all that because the world did not end when they were a certain age. They mean they got through some heavy event in their life. And because they got through this, they are able to do said things or achieve this.”

He nods, understanding the bittersweet and hopeful outlook this kind of videos can bring. “And something heavy happened to you at 13?” He probes while trying to keep a cautious tone, not wanting to overstep any boundary he doesn’t see.

“My, you see, when I was 13, my grandmother died. This was the first time I felt real grief. I wished for the world to end, because nothingness would have felt better than this immense amount of grief. And this led me to thinking of how many times I wished for the world to end. Because there were important and life changing events approaching me so quickly. When the world ends, I wouldn’t have to go through them, right?

And suddenly I’m 18, writing my final exams in school and it felt like the biggest task in my life. it felt like make or break. But the world did not end. I was able to graduate.

Then I got into the drivers academy, I am training, studying, and meeting people. I’m doing everything and anything. Because the world did not end when I was 13.

And it didn’t end when I was 16, overwhelmed with studying for school. It also did not happen when I was 19 and put under contract to be a reserve driver for Mclaren.

The world never ended. I begged and cried for all of this to stop. To have peace. Because I thought that I would only feel at peace, when nothing happens anymore. And the world didn’t end and now I sit here with you, talking about a tiktok trend.”

Lando understands her train of thought and sentiment immediately. “You know, I’m happy it didn’t end. These past couple of months with you here were pretty fun. Even Oscar admits it! With that true little smile, not in that monotone tone of his. These interviews and the media stuff is much more fun with these silly remarks of yours. And you are an amazing human being. I’m really glad that your world did not end, because meeting you made mine better.”

(Y/N) laughs, the tears being gone and cheeks heating up at that confession. “I’m glad too. Otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to ravish my way through the mountain of pasta minutes before you came in.” They giggle, knowing they share similar food preferences and have the culinary plate of a four year old toddler.

And all that, because the world did not end.

[bluehoodiewoozi]

DRABBLE MARATHON #15:

WEN JUNHUI + first love

1.5k words // warnings: alcohol consumption.

This party would be fun – at least so you had been told. It would just be a cute little celebration of a year well-spent, complete with only the best drinks and culinary goods. Dress code: ugly Christmas sweaters recommended but not mandatory.

And yet, you felt like you were trapped, stuck in a vast ocean of Christmas decorations, gingerbread cookies and Vernon’s holiday remixes of all the best songs. 

It’s not that you didn’t like socialising or meeting people. Minghao’s house was full of your friends and acquaintances and you were having the time of your life until he drunkenly told you a secret: Junhui would be coming to the party too, right as soon as his plane landed.

Junhui – the first man to ever make your heart pound, the first man to kiss your lips,  the first boyfriend you had had in college, the first everything. And while he wasn’t the last, no one else compared. 

You hadn’t seen him in two years. Your last memory of him was the day he left for his hometown a week after graduation. 

“I’ll come and find you again one day,” he had sworn that day as the two of you shared tearful goodbyes, giving the other a piece of your shattered hearts to keep. 

For reasons unknown to the both of you, you had decided to not continue your relationship at a distance. Long distance being painful was the excuse you gave when someone asked. 

But now, after two years, the distance would be no more. No more excuses, no more longing – in just a short time, he would be in the same room as you again. 

“How much have you had to drink?” Mingyu wondered and plucked the glass from your hands. “You’re all pale.”

“Jun’s coming,” you whispered, panic restricting your chest while butterflies fluttered their wings in excitement just the same. “He’s coming to the party.”

Mingyu hummed in thought. “Yeah, I think Hao mentioned something about that.”

“Do you think he remembers me?” 

“He promised he would, didn’t he?`” He nudged your side gently before offering a reassuring smile. “Junhui doesn't break his promises. Besides,” he sighed, “he always asked about you when we called.”

The butterflies won, for now. “He did?”

“Every single time. You’ll be fine.”

Just as you were about to come to terms with the words — or fight them, perhaps –, Soonyoung’s voice broke your little illusion of there being more time. “JUN! OH MY GOD, YOU ACTUALLY CAME?!”

He squealed and and jumped around and screamed like a little kid receiving his favourite toy for Christmas before dashing through the lines of guests and tackling a tall figure in a hug. 

“I missed you, man!” he cried, now sobbing into the man’s shoulder – no doubt drunk out of his mind. “Don’t ever leave again, Junhui!”

Junhui laughed – god, had you missed his laugh. “I missed you too, Soonyoung.”

“It’s Tiger,” he was promptly corrected by the crying  man. 

Junhui blinked and patted his back. “I– Sure. I missed you, Tiger.”

‘Tiger’ sobbed louder at that and hugged him even tighter, causing his poor victim to groan under the pressure. “I missed you and so did Hao and Mingyu and Jihoon and– Oh! And (Y/n) missed you the moist–” he hiccuped while you tried your hardest to hide behind Mingyu, “most!”

You were going to be sick from nervousness and it only got worse when Junhui’s eyes immediately began searching for something – someone – in the crowds upon hearing your name.

His gaze caught yours before you could hide away properly. Your breath caught in your throat and your heart stopped for a moment before fluttering at the speed of a hummingbird’s wings. He offered you a smile.

Before you could find the strength to return the gesture, he was pulled away by Seungkwan. As they disappeared into the kitchen, you finally found your breath again.

“You should talk to him,” Mingyu told you but he didn’t sound as playful as he usually did when he told you things like this. He sounded almost… Sad? Disappointed? Mournful, perhaps? The smile he put on hardly looked genuine. “I bet he’s missed you as much as you missed him, you know?”

“I–” you gasped and the room seemed to be spinning as reality slowly set in, “I’m going to go get some fresh air.”

“Here,” he sighed and shrugged off his blazer, “at least put this on. I don’t want you catching a cold before New Year’s.”

You thanked him, shrugged on the blazer and headed out to the balcony. The chill of the air was a welcoming change – it lulled the butterflies back to sleep, just like you preferred them. 

He was really here, in the same building, breathing the same air, and he was as handsome as always – if not even more. The years had been kind to him and you didn’t doubt he must have a wife by now.  She was probably pretty and kind and a little aloof like he was – the perfect pair, his ideal other half like you never could be.

And you? You were alone still, holding onto a silly little hope that he’d still love you as much as he told you he did when you had a breakdown in the middle of your last finals’ season. To the moon and back and all around the world, as bright as the stars in the sky – that’s how he had described his feelings for you and you doubt he even remembered. 

The door creaked open and you tense up in anticipation of what was about to come. You didn’t dare turn to see who it was – perhaps it was Mingyu urging you to come back inside, or maybe Soonyoung coming to beg you to join him in karaoke, or maybe–

“I figured I’d find you here,” you heard him speak and your whole world shook. Junhui shuffled to stand next to you, leaning against the railing to look out at the city. “It was a little loud inside, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you agreed quietly but really it had been your own heart that had been so loud.

He chuckled. “I had forgotten how loud the guys were. I missed them though.” 

You nodded, unable to form sentences now that he was so close. You were staring at your hands – just a few centimetres and you could hold hands with him again. 

“I missed you,” you then heard him breathe out and the butterflies came to life again. “I missed you so much, every day. I guess it’s true what they say: you never forget your first.”

“But you can always move on,” you replied solemnly.

He hummed. “Have you? Moved on?” He seemed to regret the question as soon as he said it.  He cleared his throat. “I mean, I’m sure you did. Mingyu seems nice. He always did like you.”

Your heart dropped in shock. “Mingyu?”

“You’re wearing his jacket right now,” he laughed wistfully. “I always figured if it wouldn’t be me, it would be Gyu.”

“Oh!” You rushed to correct him now that you knew what he meant. “No, no, Mingyu and I– We aren’t– We never– I never. I haven’t moved on.”

“Really?” He seemed genuinely surprised. “You haven’t?”

“Well,” you started with a gulp of air, “I tried, but… no one compared.”

“Me too,” he breathed out and you saw that sparkle in his eyes you had missed so much. “There was no one like you, so I just waited… and waited…”

“Waited for what?”

“I don’t know,” he whispered and he seemed to be closer to you all of a sudden, your noses brushing together, “but I’m done waiting.”

You didn’t need to ask him what he meant by that, nor did you have the time to. He leaned closer and closer until you felt his lips against yours. Your fingers rose to play with the hair at the nape of his neck as his arms lowered to pull you closer to his chest. You faintly noticed your – Mingyu’s – blazer falling off your shoulders as Junhui embraced you closer, and closer, and closer, until you could feel the familiar fluttering of his heart against yours.

You expected it to feel foreign – years had passed, after all – but instead, it was as if he never even left. As if he had been here with you all those years, holding your hand and laughing at your dumb jokes while fighting off Soonyoung’s attempts at playful flirtation. 

As if there was only him and you in the world and that was all you would ever need.

“I missed this,” he all but gasped out once you pulled apart again. “I missed you.”

“I can’t believe you left me here to suffer alone for all those years,” you told him with a disbelieving laugh, “and then you come back and kiss me dumb?`”

A smirk on his lips, he shrugged. “But you’re not complaining, are you?”

“Only on one condition.”

“Anything,” he whispered and pecked your lips once more as if to seal his promise.

You believed him. “Stay. Here. With me.”

“With you? Forever.”

You had spoken in a daze of hopeful delusion but here he was, replying as if it was the only truth he knew. Your eyes widened. “What about your life back home?”

“My home is where you are,” he confessed with a small smile. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realise.”

[sweetteaanddragons]

Quiet

Dust blanketed Maglor’s harp where it sat undisturbed in the corner.

Elrond had kept it clean while he looked for Maglor. Now that he had found him, he had not thought it would be necessary.

But the dust was, in the end, just dust. He was far more concerned with the man sitting on the balcony than the instrument sitting in the corner.

There was no dust on Maglor. As still as he’d been sitting, though, Elrond almost felt the need to check.

He wished the sun would come out. The clouds had been heavy since Maglor came to Rivendell, and their shadow had turned the normally cheery courtyard the balcony overlooked a muffled shade of gray.

The chairs were still comfortable, though, so he sat in the one Maglor had left free and gestured to a tree whose branches swept over the balcony railing. “Its blooms are beautiful in the spring,” he said.

Please still be here in the spring.

“It is beautiful now,” Maglor said.

He had not turned to look at it.

Elrond pressed forward as gently as he could. “I could not help but notice that none of the beauties here have yet moved you to song.”

It had not taken much to move Maglor to song, once. A small scrap of a flower in the war-torn land; the hint of an argument; a memory. Anything would do.

Even when the Oath had carved its deepest, he had sung; even when an orc’s blade had caught him in battle; even when -

He had always turned to music.

And now the harp gathered dust.

It wasn’t his hands. Elrond had checked those thoroughly. There were scars, but nothing that would restrict his movement. His voice, too, sounded fine, what little Elrond had heard of it.

Almost fine.

“I have been remiss,” Maglor said. At last, with aching slowness, he turned his head to look at Elrond. “What would you have me sing?”

“Anything,” Elrond said quietly. “Whatever your heart moves you to.”

Maglor’s mouth twitched. “My heart moves little these days.”

“Not even for song?”

“No,” he said, looking away again. “Especially not for that. It has been very quiet these past many years.”

Elrond’s heart twisted. His own past many years had not been quiet.

But they had not included all the voices he had longed to hear.

“As you say,” he agreed quietly. “Will you allow me to play for you, then?”

“You?” The surprise turned Maglor’s head quicker this time.

“I am told I had a very good teacher.”

“You had an excellent teacher,” Maglor said with just a hint of his old, fierce pride. “But if it is song you want, and you are the one doing the singing, there is not much good use in my being here.”

“Certainly there is,” Elrond said, already standing to fetch the harp. “You’re teaching. It has been a decade since I’ve had time to practice properly; I’m sure my skill has decayed abominably.”

“You know the techniques still,” Maglor said quietly. “You don’t need me here.”

“No,” Elrond admitted. “But I want you here. Is that enough?”

Maglor considered him for a moment.

“Call for another harp,” he said with a sigh. “You can teach me whatever horrible newfangled things I’ve missed.”

He still sounded like a shadow of himself.

But it was a growing shadow, and that was enough.

[slavghoul]

Interview from Upset Magazine 6/2023

Words: Steven Loftin

Like an apparition manifesting within a dense fog, it was through radio static that Swedish rockers Ghost were formed. In the kindergarten he attended as a young boy, Tobias Forge found himself enamoured with the music crackling through the little toy speakers. From this point forward, he began picking apart the notes and melodies - his journey toward the lore and canon coming into focus as he sat, trying to figure out how this black magic could be summoned.

While it would be many years before he would don his garb as Papa Emeritus, the essence of what his future would sound like was being set through his exposure to a wide variety of music. If any proof were needed, just look to the impressive list of covers Ghost have put their ghastly mark upon, including 2016's 'Popestar' EP, which included the band's takes on Echo & The Bunnymen ('Nocturnal Me') and Simian Mobile Disco ('I Believe').

Ghost's latest EP is another covers bonanza. A five-piece offering of Tobias's backstory, 'Phantomime' plays out like a Greatest Hits radio playlist - a fitting throwback to Tobias' first dalliances with music. Of course, when a group more aligned to the metal/hard rock community bust out covers, including Genesis and Tina Turner, eyebrows are raised. To this reaction, Tobias scoffs. "In 1991, Genesis was one of the biggest bands on the planet! That was a huge hit. In the mid-80s, when I had an older teenage brother who rented every VHS movie that came out, of course, we saw the fucking Thunderdome, and that was a huge hit, and it's still being played on Swedish radio. It's an evergreen; it's not an eclectic choice at all," he declares. "I grew up listening to Stranglers because my brother liked them. What else do we have, Iron Maiden - I mean, are you kidding? I'm a metalhead!"

Originally conceived during the sessions for their fifth album, last year's 'Impera', there were two folders on his computer's desktop: one named 'Impera', the other simply 'Covers'. As the ideas for 'Impera' grew, Tobias would enter his usual routine of working on a cover or two. "At any point, when you lose a little wind in writing your own things, it's quite nice to say, 'Today let's go in and work on the covers'; you can choose anything you want, you can work on absolutely anything you want. And you don't have to finish it, you don't have to release it, you don't have to do anything, but just continue working."

He likens it to the freedom of being a theatre owner who, instead of trying to pen the next greatest Broadway phenomenon, opts to have a go at something already timeless and perfected.

"Maybe you're like, 'Okay, so this fall we're just going to do a reinterpretation of Hamlet instead, that's going to be fine, and that keeps everyone working, and that keeps a project moving along! And I find a similar thing with working on covers. So as I was writing "Impera', the covers folder was also growing exponentially and at a point. I had this idea that was going to be a full-length album."

With COVID restrictions meaning the original producer for 'Impera' was stuck in the US, Tobias had to source a replacement. It would be Klas Åhlund who stepped up to the plate. But, on one condition. "He was pretty upfront. He was like. Yeah, I only want to make the record; I don't want to work on covers," Tobias remembers "Fine, fine, fine, that's fine." he shrugs. "So, after the 'Impera' recording was done, I felt as if making a completely different, whole record again: I didn't have time for that. I didn't have the energy for that. But once I trimmed down the number of songs to only these five to make a very rocky record, it loosened up the screws a little bit for me in terms of like, "Okay, so now I know what the EP is going to be - it's going to be a full, full-throttle rock one."

Ditching some rumoured softer covers, including U2, Misfits, and Motörhead. 'Phantomime is instead a delectable slice of Ghost doing what Ghost do best: creating theatrically big rock. It's Tobias's mark upon some bonafide classics, including Iron Maiden's 'Phantom of the Opera' which feels as befitting to Ghost as it does seeing Papa Emeritus kick the bucket ready for his next iteration. While the focus was on creating this small dose of Tobias's musical DNA, it also served another purpose; to simply be "not very complicated." The project began with the mindset of "we can make this recording loosely - quick but stress-free - as opposed to making a record which is your hard fifth record that needs to live up to certain standards. So it was just a very inspired, very simple recording, actually."

After the complexities of 'Impera' which wound up requiring two studios simultaneously running in parallel "to be able to work efficiently" - Ghost was morphing into a taxing experience for the band leader, "It was just a bigger thing [and] way more stressful."

Deciding to strip that covers folder down to the five tracks, by all accounts, 'Phantomime was a measured and reserved effort. "It ended up being me, an engineer, and an occasional musician coming in and doing something. It was so much looser, so much more mentally Feng Shui," he smiles, relief glowing in his voice. "And I think that that reflected a little bit on the two different records. They're meant to be related - they are definitely related - they were made roughly in the same time, but they're completely different things."

'Phantomime' plays out like a ghoulish social commentary. Starting with a searing rendition of Televison's 'See No Evil, the journey traverses the scourge of Televangelism (Genesis' Jesus He Knows Me') with a delightfully-fitting NSFW video, the instant gratification humans require to feel (The Stranglers' Hanging Around"); the pull back into cruel reality (Phantom Of The Opera"), and the resulting undying hope from a degraded society (Tina Turner's 'We Don't Need Another Hero"). Each offering is bolstered with Ghost's dramatic, theatric rock licks and Tobias's powerhouse vocals.

With 'Phantomime' in the bag and the European leg of the 'Impera' tour imminent (Tobias is currently holed up in preparation), the idea of reflecting on how he came to go from a young boy listening to the static sounds of pop hits on the radio to orchestrating not only a feverishly adored band and its lore but finding the capacity to embrace his inner music nerd, couldn't be more timely. Tobias's relationship with music has always been one of intrigue. He's a pop songwriter with the ambition and ideas of a stadium rock band, which, in essence, explains perfectly why Ghost can sit in a unique, exponentially growing and expanding space.

"My earliest inclination of wanting to transform into something else was definitely Twisted Sister," he recalls. "You know, "I Want To Rock' and 'We're Not Going To Take It' - that was a huge record in 1984, and in 1984, I was three years old," he says. "My brother was 16, so everything that was going on pop-culturally amongst teenagers was happening in my home."

It was thanks to his brother that much of Tobias's relationship with music was formed. He's introduced him to various giants of the time, like tectonic plates being pushed around, impacting and shaping his musical landscape. Translating for young Tobias the attitude of punk at the time, as well as everything else that was 'in', he remembers, "When I was a kid, and he was supposed to babysit me, as a pacifier he would put me in front of [Sex Pistols mockumentary film] 'The Great Rock 'n' Roll Swindle"," he laughs. "And then when that was over, he would just switch to [X-rated cartoon] Fritz the Cat. And I loved that stuff, of course. That was as much [about] the expression and the attitude. Of course, I loved the songs, but it was also filtered or combined with big songs for me." Those big songs ("Men At Work 'Down Under'," he initially cites, "those sort of songs still have a unique place in my in my writing") would eventually entwine with his darker side that he'd explore as he grew older. "Whilst my whole adolescence was completely in the name of extreme metal, I always had a very soft spot for Top 40 rock and pop radio always," Tobias explains. "And I've listened to that all my life. So it's almost equal portions of Venom as it is anything. that was on the radio."

Also, witnessing shock and glam-rock bands explode intrigued Tobias. He became swept away in the idea that not only could you push a boundary to its absolute limits with convictions and over-the-top grandiosity, but you could do so with songs that quantifiably bop. But, as time has gone onto prove, it wasn't pop music that enamoured Tobias enough that he wanted to become a pop star. It's the mythology and mystery that has become his calling card.

Tobias remained an enigma under the disguise of an evolving form of the iconic Papa Emeritus (now in his fourth incarnation) until 2017, after a lawsuit from a previous iteration of his backing band's rotating cast, the Nameless Ghouls. Visual and video components to releases are often hoovered up by the fandom, stripped apart for meaning and potential. Instagram posts are referred to as a '[Message From The Clergy]" (a phrase later claimed for 2022's Best Of playlist), and lest it is forgotten, the Ghost 'Grucifix' - the prominent crucifix deconstructed into Tobias's gothic 'G' logo - which ties together the vision, religious imagery and satire that would become a core part of the Ghost experience.

His musical ambition and education colliding in the middle of his Venn diagram between dark metal and pop magic is thanks to the likes of the aforementioned Twisted Sister and W.A.S.P., as well as his teen years in the black metal community. "Their first record was also a huge impact in Swedish media," Tobias remembers. "There was this big sort of Satanic panic thing going on at the time in the fall of 1984. Where you had essentially all those things happening. You had Mötley Crüe 'Shout At The Devil', which came out a year earlier, and they were there because they toured with Iron Maiden in 1984, so there was a lot of focus on these shock-rock bands. I saw that as a kid, and I was immediately blown away - it was the coolest thing I've ever seen. And I think that that was the trigger that made me identify as that is how I want to express myself."

Decoding the songs he'd hear also became an integral part of that expression. "That was the only thing I did for years before I started writing my own songs." Recalling his time in kindergarten, they had a piano and guitar, which Tobias became infatuated with. Instead of playing with the other children, he would find himself enraptured, listening to the radio or flipping over whichever cassette happened to be loaded at the time. He would then imitate the sounds he was soaking up. "A lot of those early beginnings of how to learn and how I've learned how to understand music filters through everything I do now," he explains.

The early records he'd find himself trying to unpack included KISS 'Alive' and Pink Floyd's 'Piper At The Gates Of Dawn' - disparate matches, but undoubtedly Ghost fuel with hard rock melodies and psychedelic tendencies. "I had the first and the second Pink Floyd on a double LP that was called 'A Nice Pair'. And that's the shit that I sat and listened to and played guitar to," he says proudly. "That's weird music, that's really weird chord sequences and melodies that sort of went nowhere. And, that coloured me a lot in my vision of this is how you write a pop song. Of course, I knew more conventional writing as well. But I figured that this resonates with me, and I want to write more like that."

Tobias is the first to admit that the influence his musical exposure has had on him isn't the most straightforward. "For all the years that I was in bands, up until Ghost, basically when I was in bands not doing well, I got a lot of, I wouldn't say stick, but it was always like, 'You write weird songs, there's something weird about them, and it will never really become anything because it has that sort of weirdness to it".

As he grew, the songs he'd heard reflected this inherent strangeness he'd constructed. Before the days of mass formulaic pop factories, the music emanating from the radio abided by the strictest rule of needing to at least be approachable, but within these confines, artists of the 70s and 80s would push the envelope as far as they could. Citing Nik Kershaw's 'The Riddle' as one example, "Holy shit, if you would have taken that song and taken it to a chord structure masterclass amongst pop writers now who want to write songs for Miley Cyrus or The Weeknd or any of that sort of level they would say, no, no, no, no, that this will never work. It's too strange. It's too weird. You can't do that; it doesn't have the normal chord progression.

"There are a lot of songs from the 80s that are like that," he reckons, "compared to the now, more informative way of writing, the 80s was braver actually, and it worked well. And those songs are evergreens in a way that a lot of the top radio shit from seven years ago is forgotten, and that's the stuff that I grew up with when I started playing the guitar."

Having made that inner sanctum, he would enter kindergarten a reality, one where he can explore those recesses of his mind shaken by the musical earthquakes he experienced; now, he's matured and deeply entrenched in the reality. "Throughout the modern day of pop writing, I know a few professional pop songwriters, and we continue having these conversations because in pop," he says, "where some of them work prolifically on really high releases, they're like, it's strange how the business wants everything to be so informative. Everybody wants a weird song, but still, all the big songs are usually very, very formatted [and] very, very simple."

While unpacking the songs he'd heard back in the 80s offered Tobias a chance to comprehend what makes a good song, it, more importantly, helped him to set out doing it on his own. When digging into crafting a new Ghost number, Tobias explains that "each new song is a little bit like virgin territory with its own riddle to be solved, and is always a combination of the horror of maybe not solving the puzzle, with the thrill when you do. And it's never easy because each new song needs something new. And so you constantly need to feed your ability with knowledge about how other things are."

Breaking it down into a figurative example, he likens it to being like a detective. "I'm assuming that part of being a great detective is to constantly have an open mind, but also constantly learning about human behaviour and wha people do. If you just had 100 forensic classes, but you know nothing about people and how they live their lives, it's gonna be hard to solve crimes." The same rings true for writers who have to read to improve and further understand language, while comedians pull from real-life experiences - music is no different. Tobias's early days of stripping down songs to their basic parts and then rebuilding them have remained a constant endeavour. "But that's how you write songs as well; you go and absorb new things."

The covers process, as mentioned, is a release for Tobias. When things are stuck when trying to piece together a new chapter for the Ghost bible, a cover offers up a chance for something lighter. "Working on covers can be equally euphoric," he confirms, "because it's fun to understand a song whereas, on the other hand, it can be almost demoralising because you're like, I can't believe that this song is so much better than anything that I've written! And it's so much easier. It's so simple."

"I find myself overcomplicating things often, but you might not hear the complicated detour that I took to end up at the more understandable, straighter version that ended up being the actual recording," he continues. "That's a never-ending struggle because that's how it's supposed to be. It's not like you write the one song. I don't think I know anyone or know of anyone who's content with the idea of having written one huge song. And then you know, okay, that's nirvana for you. You don't write the one song the same way that if you're a comedian, it's not like, 'Oh, I just told the funniest joke. So now I'm done".

While Tobias is one for wanting to keep the ball rolling and on a constant endeavour to continue his musical evolution, he knows there's a limit. Every release of Ghost must have a purpose. Nodding to the 60s method of firing singles out on all fronts, eventually compiling them for a full-length release, Tobias acknowledges his relationship with his fans is based on a more long-term understanding. "That's not how we do things; we make an album, and off of that album, there are singles - it's a 70s/80s thinking. And I don't want to refrain from that - I don't want too many singles to be these autonomous little creatures."

But the world is different now. It's a Wild West where being in the masses' consciousness is key, so things may have to change for him. Admitting that right now, he knows he's post-release of Ghost's last canon entry, 'Impera', which arrived back in 2022, and while 'Phantomime' is a reasonable enough bridge, sooner or later, he's going to have to play the game of ensuring Ghost ramp up. Earlier this year, Ghost collaborated with Def Leppard's Joe Elliott on a re-release of 'Impera' cut 'Spillways' which, while a fantastic addition to their arsenal, adds to the same notion Tobias is fearful of. "I'm slowly preparing for making a new record that's going to come out in 2024, which is way too long for the current contemporary music climate; you need to be ever-present," the last phrase hanging in the air ominously.

That doesn't mean he has to lower his standards, however. No Ghost release will exist just for content's sake. Everything must have its place. He even reckons a 14-track album is "a lot of music", and he still sees an album as being "22 minutes of music per side" - true to form, currently, no standard issue of any Ghost album breaches 12 tracks. He's even ready to aim for the likes of The Rolling Stones and The Beatles by swiftly lobbing a couple of spicy takes out. "Look, man, I don't even think that 'Exile on Main Street' is that good. Not even the fucking White album is that great - break it up! Both of those records would have been better if they were trimmed down to singular records."

That pop mind breaking through; Tobias is someone who knows that music is entertainment. Certainly, a medium which often leads to more bulky connotations, but it must entertain. It's why he doesn't pay any mind to those naysayers that yearn for Ghost to be more metal or to follow a different path. This is Tobias's game; we're just privy to the sermon. These days the floodgates are open and, when compared to previous decades, as Tobias remembers it, "you had to buy your own records. Whatever additional music you got, that wasn't maybe heard on the TV or the radio, when you took something from someone else, was usually a choice, so music styles could in some way be a little bit more insular back then just because you weren't subjected to as much." He mentions his beloved death metal as being a signifier of the changes happening. "Back in the day, when I was starting listening to extreme metal, that was completely embraced by a certain little subculture or group of mostly teenagers and 20-somethings. Whereas in the 2000s, when Vice started doing black metal reporting, all of a sudden you have indie personalities who were fans of Darkthrone, and so, obviously, what ended up that turned into this fusion, which was a positive and very natural thing."

This cultural shift is another reason Ghost's space is widening and its success growing. "Nowadays, people are a little bit more open," he admits. But, with this comes issues. "As time has progressed, metal and hard rock, as well as most genres that have been around for a while, [they've] gone from this youth culture to a conservative institution because so many of the fans are now aged." The passage of time waits for no one. But, more presciently for culture, it also means our understanding of what is 'good' and what should be where is moulded differently to when we were younger. "Unfortunately, that happens to most people regardless of who you were when you were 20," Tobias reckons, "or your ideals when you're like 40/50/60 years old. Your brain starts morphing into a slightly more conservative, slightly more nostalgic... You don't want things to change."

Tobias is the first to hold his hands up and admit the same has happened to him. He yearns for 1984 and even 1990-94. He would even be happy with 1987, back to those days with the crackling radio and a childlike spirit. "That would be so much cooler. I loved that way more than in this day and age. But I can't sit around and mope about that because it's not a problem that it's not 1987."

'Phantomime' is proof nostalgia can be a useful tool. It fuels with passion, and Ghost is Tobias's Neverland. "There's such a debate about what we are and why that is." Ghost are a band that, thanks to Tobias's musical education, transcend time. They exist on their own plain and with the evergreen, timeless sounds of yesteryear echoing around Tobias's head, long may Papa reign with his gloved melodic iron fist.

[seoul-bros]

A Performer's Sacrifice

Thinking again today about the Weverse live this week and the way in which Jimin spoke about enlistment. I really feel for him. Someone whose identity and whose joy is so intimately connected to the stage and performance, to be dragged away from that, when you finally feel you are finding your feet and growing, must be a cruel blow.

The last time he performed before an audience was at the final D-Day tour back in the summer and even though we know he has prepared things that we will have the pleasure of hearing and seeing when he is gone, he won't be able to share that experience directly with us. There won't be the rush of that push and pull between audience and performer which Jimin and Jungkook, in particular, crave and enjoy.

I had hoped he might get one last bite of the cherry releasing and promoting a song before he enlisted but, even though this seemed tantalising close at some points over the last couple of months, it is something that never came. No doubt these are the compromises you make when you are part of a company so heavily reliant on you and your band mates to keep them a float.

But to go nearly two years without having that direct contact with your fans, well it's enough to make any artist a little somber especially one that was previously so heavily affected by the restrictions of the COVID pandemic era.

I hope that the time goes by faster than he can imagine at this moment and that he can get some satisfaction from seeing us enjoying the music he has left behind.

Personally I plan to be vocal and energetic and I know there are many more Jimin fans out there who share that intention.

Post Date: 09/12/2023

[eleanorfenyxwrites]

Outta Time

So @littlesmartart and I discovered that we both love Orville Peck, and I decided it might be nice to write Western Cowboy shit that isn't the Brokeback Mountain AU so here's this 😂 Inspired by Orville Peck's song 'Outta Time' from the album Bronco (Jess came up with the plot, I wrote it, and she's drawn art to go along with it for the visual that's directly inspired by the song [and that was all I had in mind for this before she came up with the plot lol]!)

--//--

It was, perhaps, foolishness on Meng Yao’s part to think that Huaisang was telling him nothing but the unvarnished truth when he’d invited him to head out West with him for a luxury vacation, set to last the entirety of their summer break.

“It’ll be like one of those fancy retreats silly rich people go on!” he’d insisted (as if he isn’t mind-bogglingly ridiculous and wealthier than Meng Yao could ever hope of being [considering he’s only just recently been forced to accept he’ll never see a single iota of his father’s support, emotionally or financially]). “Trust me!”

Mistake number 1 had been saying, “Alright A-Sang, I trust you.”

Mistake number 2 : being a man of his word.

Within a month of receiving Huaisang’s invitation, summer arrives with rolling peals of thunder heralding oppressive humidity and swarms of mosquitos. Meng Yao, a man of his word as stated, dutifully packs most of his belongings into a suitcase that weighs far less than the upper limit of the airline’s luggage weight restriction and navigates the pair of them through the airport with minimal stress, mainly thanks to not allowing Huaisang to be in charge of anything at all.

He chats with Huaisang on and off throughout their flight to keep himself distracted from the fact that he’s leaving behind everything he’s ever known to spend three months in the middle of bumfuck nowhere at his only friend’s brother's ranch, which Huaisang had only told him the full truth about yesterday, after it was already far too late to gracefully back out. Meng Yao’s promised luxury vacation destination is apparently in actuality a cattle ranch that Huaisang’s brother apparently runs mostly to keep himself in shape and avoid the stress of city life that had given him a heart attack at the ripe old age of 27 a few years back. (It is, by far, the weirdest ‘so I have this older brother’ story that Meng Yao has ever heard.)

“So this brother of yours –” Meng Yao finally caves and asks about an hour before final descent.

“Uh-huh?”

“He just…up and left New York. For Montana?”

“Yep,” Huaisang pops the ‘p’ and flicks to the next page in his magazine, unbothered, “After his heart attack he said he wanted to see some mountains and get some actual fresh air if he was just going to die soon anyway, it really dramatic and maudlin, which he never is, I was so proud. Only it turns out it was exactly what he needed to not die, so after a while he decided he would just stay out there for good. He bought the house and the land and some horses to give himself something to do besides stare at the sky all day, and then he was still kind of bored so he bought some cattle.”

Naturally. As one does.

“And now he’s…a cattle rancher. From New York City.”

Huaisang laughs and finally looks up from his magazine to smile at Meng Yao like ‘oh you sweet little thing’ in the way Meng Yao kind of hates, but Huaisang does it to everyone so he can’t really take too much offense.

“Yes, Yaoyao, you’ll understand when you meet him! Da-ge’s never really been a city guy, not like us. It suits him much better to be out here, especially since his best friend moved out here to help him out. Xichen-ge treats it like a meditation retreat but with a lot more mucking out stalls. He says even that part’s therapeutic, but I’m just going to take his word on that one, ‘cause ew.”

“Uh-huh.”

Huaisang leaves him to consider just what the hell he’s gotten himself into for the rest of the flight, and then they’re navigating their way (ridiculously easily) through the rinky-dink airport hardly bigger than a parking garage, the sky beyond the terminal windows blue blue blue where it stretches on forever in every direction.

“Da-ge!”

Meng Yao barely manages to snag Huaisang’s duffel when his friend flings it off his shoulder to go sprinting across the 3-carousel baggage claim, the fastest Meng Yao has ever seen him move. It’s a distinct relief that Meng Yao can use juggling their bags as an excuse to approach at a much more respectable pace; he needs the extra time to truly digest what he’s seeing.

Huaisang, as a former-model-turned-fasion-designer who happily calls himself a fruit at every opportunity, is one of the daintiest men Meng Yao has ever met. He’d even go so far as to call him a dandy, if pressed, and fully supports his friend’s decision to call himself every ‘emasculating’ label under the sun with obvious relish. He can’t deny that at least some of his confusion as to his best friend’s mysterious older brother’s chosen lifestyle stemmed from picturing someone like Huaisang, if perhaps a little taller.

He’s not confused anymore.

The man who catches Huaisang midair and swings him in a circle before setting him back on his feet would never be asked to grace the runways of New York — not because he isn’t beautiful enough to make Meng Yao’s fingers twitch for his camera to capture the way the sun cuts across his weather-tanned face, but because no one has ever heard of a fashion model who was roughly 6’7” and perhaps 300 pounds of solid, clearly functional muscle.

Huaisang’s brother towers over everyone else in the building that Meng Yao can see (and he can see most of them, re: rinky-dink airport in the middle of bumfuck Montana), and when he looks over the heads of the few people between Meng Yao and the exit their eyes lock instantly.

“A-Sang, be nicer to your friend,” Meng Yao can hear from here, a bass rumble that Does Things to his chest. “Go get your bag, don’t make your guest carry your shit or he’ll think I never taught you decent manners. Go on.”

Huaisang flutters back over and takes his bag with an unapologetic grin. Meng Yao finishes taking the ten-odd steps necessary for the brother to stick his hand out with a wry little smirk and say, “Hey, I’m Mingjue.”

“Meng Yao,” he replies and slides his hand into Mingjue’s dry, work-calloused palm.

“Welcome to big sky country, A-Yao,” Mingjue replies with a widening smile, a flash of straight white teeth and a dimple hiding under his mustache, and Meng Yao regrets to say that he’s thoroughly fucked.

–//–

The land unfolds around them as they drive down straight roads at an almost leisurely pace through miles and miles of…nothing.

Not nothing, Meng Yao supposes, but long gone are the corridors of towering skyscrapers, the lingering miasma of so many people living together in tight quarters, everyone building up up up to stack ever-more people into the same few square miles. Meng Yao understands, suddenly, why Mingjue had come here and stayed. He doesn’t think he has it in him to eschew all the conveniences of New York City for the open country, but someone like Mingjue seems like the type to appreciate having the space to…expand. To be bigger than life and have the room to do it in. He certainly feels larger than life at the moment as he details for Huaisang all the comings and goings on the ranch since he’d last visited, as he talks about the horses and his cattle and the monsoon rains they’d apparently only just missed that had finally turned everything summer-green.

Meng Yao sits on the bench seat of Mingjue’s beat up old pickup truck and watches the sparse scattering of fluffy white clouds drift over more sky than he’s ever seen in his life and he gets it.

He hasn’t gotten nearly enough of his fill of marveling (subtly) over the view by the time they pull off the road onto a dirt road that Huaisang tells him is actually Mingjue’s driveway, but he contents himself with the knowledge that they’re here for three months, he’ll have plenty of time to appreciate the view later. They rattle over a few metal grates Mingjue explains are cattle guards to keep the animals from escaping the ranch should they manage to break out of their pastures, and Meng Yao isn’t a child so he doesn’t exclaim about how fucking huge the cattle are some distance away from the road where they’re grazing (but he certainly rethinks his half-baked desire to see them up close anytime soon).

“Home sweet home,” Mingjue announces when they reach the end of the lane after another mile or two and opens his door with a creak. Meng Yao leans forward to look up at the house through his lashes and must not be able to control his expression as much as he’d prefer as Huaisang chuckles at him a little, nudging him in the side with his pointy little elbow.

“Told you it was nice,” he chirps and slides across the seat to get out on the driver’s side. “Da-ge be careful!” he trills, his nervous fretting muffled as he scurries around to the bed of the truck. Meng Yao doesn’t pay attention to their bickering or the scuffle of hard-soled boots on dirt, though his attention is snagged at least a bit by the sound of Mingjue laughing at whatever he’s just done to make Huaisang whine at him.

The house is beautiful, is the thing. Somehow he hadn’t thought that it would be, perhaps owing to how many times he’s listened to Huaisang complain about his brother’s lack of taste for anything even remotely fashionable. He should really stop assuming things about Mingjue, he supposes, considering he’s currently scored 0 for 2, and he hates to lose.

He gets out of the car, finally, to better appreciate white-washed wood paneling just beginning to show hints of weathering, blue shutters clearly freshly painted the same shade of the sky overhead with the front door painted to match. There are rocking chairs on the wraparound porch, clearly well-loved if the flattened, sun-faded cushions on them are anything to judge by, positioned to face west. He has a sudden mental image of Mingjue sitting out here in the evenings to watch the sunset over the mountains looming in the distance and has to shake himself all over once (discreetly) to keep from sticking himself in the chair next to him in this little pastoral fantasy. That’s just making it weird.

“You want the grand tour or you wanna settle in?” Mingjue asks; Meng Yao doesn’t jump to find himself standing next to his host he hadn’t heard approaching, but he does feel suddenly…shy in a way he’s definitely not used to. He tilts his head enough to squint up at Mingjue, the sun too bright in his eyes, and finds to his dismay that he’s still just as handsome as he’d been an hour ago.

“I want you to give him the tour!” Huaisang calls from where he’s petting a horse (an actual horse, but are they supposed to be that tall??) that’s come up to the fence at the other end of the front yard, such as it is, to duck down and nose at Huaisang like an old friend.

“I don’t care what you want, you little brat,” Mingjue calls back. “And don’t you dare give that beast whatever candy you’ve got in your pockets, do you know how long it took to train him out of biting people who didn’t give him any after you left?!”

Meng Yao hides a smile behind his hand and finds himself mostly glad that there’s someone else around now to be the recipient of Huaisang’s incessant whining when he’s really putting on a performance. He clears his throat a little and schools his expression back towards pleasant neutrality when Mingjue looks down at him again, clearly unwilling to entertain his brother’s antics a moment longer than necessary.

“I think I’d like to settle in first,” he allows himself to say, and is perhaps mildly startled when Mingjue doesn’t question it, when he simply nods and lets Meng Yao be that tiny bit selfish.

“Come on in then, your room’s upstairs.”

Meng Yao follows Mingjue inside out of the sun and finds himself surrounded by an eclectic mix of antiques and modern minimalism; framed photos and bric-a-brac piled up in out-of-the-way corners of sleek monochrome shelves hemmed in on every side by enormous, dense furniture of the sort that reminds him of a time at least half a century ago, if not longer. The result is antiquated in a charming way with enough touches of modernity that he doesn’t think Mingjue is necessarily out of touch, just pragmatic about his home. If something old will still do, why replace it? It’s a mentality Meng Yao can appreciate, and he finds himself smiling a little again as he trails behind Mingjue up the stairs and down the short hallway to the room in the back corner.

“Here you go,” Mingjue says and slings both Meng Yao’s and Huaisang’s bags off his shoulder, which is precisely when Meng Yao realizes he’d been carrying their luggage in one hand like it weighs nothing. He notices it, allows himself two seconds to admire it, and promptly tucks that little tidbit away for future consideration. Later.

“I’ll be around, just holler if you need anything. I’m sure A-Sang will be in to bother you once he’s finished saying hi to the herd, I’ll let you enjoy the quiet while you’ve got it.”

“Thanks, Mingjue,” Meng Yao says with a smile, and it might be a moment of wishful thinking, or just his imagination, but he swears he sees Mingjue’s gaze drop to his mouth for a beat too long before the man nods and retreats. Meng Yao has no way to know if the flush on the back of Mingjue’s neck is from the sun or, maybe, something else.

–//–

Huaisang does come inside eventually, and though he has his own unpacking to do Meng Yao isn’t surprised at all when his friend comes to his room first to flop onto his bed and promptly make himself at home to start bugging him.

(He wouldn’t want or expect anything different.)

As Meng Yao hangs up shirts and trousers with far more care than they probably need, Huaisang regales him with stories from other trips to the ranch and a quick run-down of the personalities of the horses Mingjue keeps, both his own and some he boards for others who can’t keep their own animals for whatever reason. Meng Yao makes enough leading, noncommittal noises to keep his friend chattering as he settles in, though the chatter becomes decidedly less pleasant as far as background noise goes when Huaisang starts talking about getting Meng Yao to socialize.

Within moments it’s clear he already has a plan on how to do so, because of course he does, and of course it’s some stranger’s houseparty where Meng Yao will know absolutely no one at all.

“Absolutely not, Huaisang,” he says tartly, but of course Huaisang only takes that as an invitation to persuade him.

“This isn’t like parties back home, A-Yao, I promise!” he wheedles. Meng Yao just goes on unpacking his meager belongings into the antique dresser in the corner of his room that holds a window overlooking the equipment-littered space between the back porch and the horse barn, and he very pointedly does not rise to Huaisang’s bait. He’s still not immune to his best friend’s cajoling and they both know it, but he feels the need to deny him a little longer for the sake of his pride, if nothing else.

“Nothing here is like home, Huaisang, your argument is invalid,” he replies blithely and debates the merit of hanging his undershirts in the too-big closet with the rest of his clothes, rather than folding them up into a too-big drawer where they’ll just look sad on their own.

“Okay point taken, but seriously! You’ll have a nice time, it’ll be chill, I swear. Xichen-ge is coming, and he never goes anywhere things will get out of hand!”

A party tempting enough to interest Huaisang is typically guaranteed to be anything but ‘chill’, he doesn’t point out, but…well. Meng Yao had just said it himself — nothing here so far is like what they’ve come from, maybe Huaisang’s different here too. Maybe a party’s really not such a bad idea. And if it is, Mingjue, having already overheard Huaisang mentioning the party on his way past Meng Yao’s room with a load of clean laundry in his arms, has already made it very clear that he’s happy to either loan them his truck for the night or else drive them himself. Considering Meng Yao has no interest in drinking so much he wouldn’t be able to drive (because he, unlike his best friend, is a very functional city gay who can drive, thank you very much) it’s a guaranteed exit strategy, should he feel the need to escape.

Meng Yao ignores Huaisang’s pleading eyes for a few moments longer simply for the fun of it as he slides his undershirts onto clattering plastic hangers, and only smiles once his back is turned as Huaisang shouts his delight when Meng Yao sighs, “Well…I guess I’ve got nowhere better to go.”

–//–

This time, Huaisang did tell him the unvarnished truth.

It’s clear from the moment they pull up in the warm violet twilight that this party is nothing like the ones they frequent back home. It’s in someone’s actual house, for one, which he supposes isn’t too strange when not being hosted in a city made entirely of apartments and highrises, but the house itself is in the middle of a giant patch of…nothing. It’s just a house on a dirt lot full of pickup trucks in various stages of rusting, with lights strung everywhere possible on the wraparound porch (except that it’s not really a porch so much as it is a prefabricated metal roof over part of the patch of dirt and sparse grass ‘yard’). He’s pretty sure he even sees a barn lit up the same way some few hundred feet behind the house, but he can’t get a good look at it from here and decides to put it out of his mind.

“Let me know if you end up needing the truck,” Mingjue says over the sound of twanging guitar coming from someone’s massive speakers as they hop down (well he steps down out of the truck like he’s just crossing a threshold; Meng Yao and Huaisang are too vertically challenged to get down out of the thing without at least a little hop). “I’m gonna head in to grab a beer, you two want anything?”

“We’re good, da-ge!” Huaisang chirps, already eyeing up a cluster of guys all dressed nearly identically in tight jeans and threadbare flannels with the sleeves cut off and the resulting gaping holes fraying artlessly, with the main differentiating factor between them being if they’re wearing cowboy hats or baseball caps. Meng Yao glances between his options — Huaisang’s all-too-familiar thirsting over extremely lackluster men who don’t deserve him and Mingjue’s retreating figure carving a path through the crowd — and decides to take his chances with the latter, though he hangs back a little to give Mingjue space.

The house, when he steps inside, at least smells pretty much like what he’s used to at parties. Too many competing colognes and perfumes, the sticky sweetness of alcohol, and the haze of cigarette smoke are almost comforting like this, even as he promptly gets lost amongst the sprawling, dimly-lit rooms crowded with strangers nursing beers or chatting (read: feeling) each other up in dim corners. He finds a staircase in the middle of the house and uses it to orient himself as he wanders in several clockwise circles until he’s mapped out the living room, the den, the kitchen where he snags a beer from the 6’5” cowboy (he’s assuming he’s a cowboy based on the hat and the whole ‘house party on a farm in Montana’ thing) standing at the keg, the door to the back ‘porch’ that’s about as porch-like as the one out front, and an overcrowded room that seems to serve no purpose but to be a place to play beer pong.

He’s just circled his way back to the front door near the stairs once again when he finds his path blocked by someone turned away from him; someone broad and tall and wearing pale blue, which just seems like a mistake when any moment could end in spilled beer and flustered mopping up with a crumpled handful of napkins, perhaps even the removal of said shirt to get it in the upstairs bathroom sink to soak out the stain before it sets —

Alright so it’s been a while and a man has needs, especially when surrounded by ridiculously tall beefcakes on every side. Sue him.

Rather than spilling his shitty beer on this guy to see if he can get him to take his shirt off, Meng Yao clears his throat and taps the guy on his waist once, just the lightest touch of two fingers to body-warmed cotton, and the guy turns smoothly, an apology already on his lips.

“Oh, excuse me,” he says, hardly audible over the music jangling from the beer pong room. Meng Yao tilts his head back a bit — and then a bit more — to meet the guy’s gaze and he’s startled to find he’s also Asian. It takes him roughly three seconds to put two-and-two together when the guy smiles at him like he knows him and ducks down to talk a little closer. Meng Yao makes a conscious decision to stay very still to let him do it.

“Might you be Meng Yao?” he asks and Meng Yao can only nod dumbly. “Mingjue sent me to find you, would you like to come sit with us? Da-ge’s great for commandeering the couch at these things.”

Sitting down sounds great, Meng Yao thinks, especially when the crowd shifts enough for him to catch sight of the ratty old sofa in the living room to find Mingjue currently occupying it alone, manspread more than far enough to make it clear that no one else is sitting on that couch unless he invites them (and he doesn’t look like he’s in a particularly inviting mood).

“Are you sure?” Meng Yao asks, wary, but the man (who must be Mingjue’s best friend, Xichen) just smiles at him again and tips his head in that direction, gesturing vaguely with one of his bottles of beer as if for emphasis.

“Of course! Come on, you’ve had a long day of traveling and I wanted to apologize for not being able to meet you at the house this afternoon. Just sit with us for a while, we’ll introduce you around later if you want us to.”

Meng Yao finds it a pretty tough proposition to say no to so he just nods again and gestures with his own beer (in a stereotypical red Solo cup he’d been amused to receive) for Xichen to lead the way. It isn’t so far that Meng Yao worries about losing him in the crowd, really, but he doesn’t let that stop him from hooking an index finger through the center back belt loop on Xichen’s skin-tight jeans, ‘just in case’.  Xichen simply smiles at him over his shoulder as they pass through the nearly-black front hallway and into the scarcely-brighter living room, red Christmas lights around the ceiling and the overhead bulb in the kitchen through the other doorway the only lighting for the entire room.

“Hey, there you are,” Mingjue says as they approach, and though he swings one knee closer to straight in front of himself to manspread a little less he leaves his arm slung casually along the top of the back cushions, reaching up with his free hand to snag the beer Xichen had brought for him and taking a swig of it as Xichen joins him.

On the opposite end of the couch.

Meng Yao hides behind a sip of his own flat beer quickly warming to room temperature as he contemplates the small (small) space between them and, between one disappointing sip and the next, decides he’s feeling reckless enough after a long day of new things and the freedom of traveling so many miles from home that he’s just going to go for it, and fuck the consequences.

Xichen slings his arm over the rest of the back of the couch, fingertips brushing lightly against Mingjue’s elbow where they overlap. Meng Yao sits down right in between them, settles in, and pointedly ignores the way the tired old couch springs squeak in protest of their combined weight and how he seems to pull the other two in like a magnet. It’s like gravity, centers of balance shifting and leaning inwards into his orbit, the pair of them bracketing him on either side, parentheses made of denim and muscle and smiling mouths that he pretends not to notice creeping closer as they keep finding excuses to lean in closer over the course of the next few minutes, not at all subtle. They drift in, in, in to talk to him over the music until they’re both practically kissing him on the cheeks just to be heard as they chat about nothing much at all.

Meng Yao finishes his beer and lets Xichen take the empty cup from him to set aside, and when he leans back in even closer than a moment before, Meng Yao offers him a coy little smile of the sort that’s weakened tougher men than Xichen seems to be and drops his newly-freed hand on his knee, mirroring the caress on Mingjue’s knee with his free hand on the other side.

It would be more than accurate to say that Xichen melts like butter — melts so obviously, in fact, that Mingjue laughs at him, hides it in Meng Yao’s shoulder, and seems to need no further excuse to just set up camp there so he can start nuzzling the tip of his nose into the crook of Meng Yao’s neck until he’s shivering pleasantly and feeling very much like the cat that got the cream.

Huaisang was right — this has never happened to him in New York, but he’s perfectly happy that it’s happening to him now.

–//–

Nie Huaisang isn’t the type to say ‘I told you so’ in so many words, mostly because he doesn’t actually say what he’s really thinking in the first place.

But if he were the type, he’d be saying it right now to anyone who would listen as he sips at a beer some jumped-up bull rider pressed into his hand with enough flustered used-to-be-definitely-absolutely-straight-but-now-he’s-confused flirting that Huaisang had given him an extra kiss or three to apologize for giving him a little sexuality crisis.

Maybe it’s weird for him to be so pleased to see his brother and his brother’s live-in-something tag teaming Huaisang’s own best friend, but, well. Meng Yao works way too hard for very little in return, and Huaisang thinks he deserves nice things. He’s certainly not immune to the ample charms of his brother’s farmer/rancher neighbors at least for a hazy summer, and he’d known that Meng Yao wouldn’t be able to resist either no matter how many fuck-off-I’m-totally-independent vibes he gives off when they’re back home.

Naturally if Meng Yao weren’t interested in sex Huaisang would leave him alone about it, but since he’s not he’d known perfectly well that there would be no resisting not one but two handsome men who could throw him over their shoulders as easily as they do bales of hay or sheep that need shearing. So, to that effect — the scene in front of him. Huaisang watches just long enough to see Xichen turn Meng Yao’s face to his with a gentle finger under his chin to coax him in for a kiss where they’re snuggled up all three together on the couch and then makes his escape to find his own fun for the night.

It’s already looking like it’s going to be quite the summer, and Huaisang basks in the pleasure of a plan well-executed with no one the wiser.

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Their Song (Killshot, Part 4.)

Description: The occupation as a member of SAS came along with many restrictions and rules one had to follow to a dot. It could get even more intense for a soldier carrying a lot of trauma and not enough self-love, if any at all. Thank God, this lonely soldier meets a lonely florist one day, and as they say - animals have the best judge of character.

Part Summary: While Ghost was trying to process the new information during his military duties, Cassie had a different idea on her mind - inviting you both to join the party during the upcoming karaoke session.

A/N: Okay listen, I know we're here for our boy Ghost and his story, but come on - we can not ignore how fine of a specimen Captain John fucking Price is. Like girl, don't even pretend you wouldn't be smitten by this charmer. He's the catch, the moment, the stunner. I wanted to write a chapter that focuses on the relationship between other characters too, so expect some bonding between Johnny, Cass, Nelly, Gaz and Price. Cuz we love good friendships and happy families. The chapter's ending is heavily influenced by Saturn and Turning Page by Sleeping at Last.

Warnings: Strong mentions of anxiety, reader getting hammered, usage of alcohol, and smoking (both mentioned and active), Simon Riley secretly having the voice of an angel. A lot of '...' is used in emotionally heavy moments. Mentions of various pop songs - it's not important, you can imagine singing any song you'd like - the only song I'm adamant about is Meet Me At Our Spot (by the Anxiety) being their song because the entirety of the story is built on it.

Word count: 9.5K (i have no apology)

Tagging: @poohkie90​

Master list: H E R E | Ghost's tapes: P L A Y L I S T

Cassie did as she promised - after Simon texted her the address, she was at your flat within the next 15 minutes. The traffic was usually clogged at this hour, but she did her best. Simon couldn't appreciate it enough. "... And I've cooked some vegetable broth for when she wakes up. Think it's a bit strong, but whatever. It'll get her back on her feet.." - Simon explained to Cassie as he walked through the flat, explaining what went down that evening. The woman listened intently, nodded, and hummed when needed. - "Promised her I'd wake her up when it's done, but she looked miserable the last time I checked on her."

"That's very nice of you." - Cassie smiled, putting her coat away as she was making herself more comfortable - she packed fresh homey clothes and the most basic hygiene she could need in case your flu got even worse than that. Living alone wasn't easy and sometimes, you needed someone to rely on - Cassie, still considering you one of her closest friends, was glad she could be that someone for you. - "She's lucky someone's looking out for her like you do.

"The least I could do, really." - The man grunted, putting his jacket on. No matter how much he liked being around Cass, he wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. He was barely containing the urge to beat Billy to a pulp and he didn't want to direct these intense emotions towards Cass or, in the worst case, you. - "Bonnie's also taken care of, took her for a walk, and checked she had enough to drink and to eat. Would be wise to walk her in the morning, though." "Aye aye, captain. Stop worrying - you keep on forgetting that I live with Johnny, I know how to make shit work." - The blonde nodded, smirking at all the concern she could see in Simon's eyes. - "I'm sure both of them will be alive and well tomorrow morning if you'd like to check on them. Or, you could cancel your plans and hang around? I'm sure Y/N would be delighted to see you when she wakes up." "Can't. It's urgent." - Simon dismissed, looking around for the last time. The peaceful image of being able to put his shoes in the same shoe rack was smushed by all the anxiety and hatred he was feeling. It felt as if this image flashed in his head years ago, not a few hours ago.

Cassie was waiting for Simon to make sure everything was okay - it was hard to say what was going on inside his mind, but there had to be something. Yes, she and Johnny caught the wind that your chemistry seemed to be flowing well - especially after you disclosed to her that Ghost visits you nearly every shift, spending your lunch breaks together. She wouldn't have suspected the two of you were at this stage, though. Cassie was... Genuinely happy when she heard Simon was at your place, taking care of you when you got sick. The two of you were one of the best people she had gotten to know - and from what little Johnny told her about L.t., neither of you had the best of luck with the people who hung around you. Cassie wasn't sure who it was when it came to Simon, but in your case, Billy was the prime example. She hated his guts ever since you introduced them on one of your shifts. The guy gave her the chills even though she mostly liked everyone - that was a major red flag.

Therefore, the knowledge of the two of you... Spending time together, getting to know each other... That was something that made Cassie smile. "Hey, Si?" - She asked when Simon finally walked to the front door, ready to leave the apartment. "What is it?" "Hope you didn't forget about next Saturday?" "How could I? You and Johnny keep bugging me off about it. Price also chimed in today." - Ghost reiterated with irony, sending one of his famous wink in Cassie's direction. - "Can't wait." "Take care, big guy."

For the next few hours, Cassie and Bonnie dozed off while watching the Bake Off - the two were splayed on the couch, nuzzling together. Bon usually slept in your bed (you even bought the doggie stairs for her since she was too small to hop onto it), but since your door was shut tight and there was a new strange human friend to hang around, she gladly spent the night with Cass. It could be around four in the morning when you woke up, setting on a journey to take a piss, have some veggie broth, take some painkillers, and then, go to sleep again. As you noticed Cassie messaging her eyes (the creaking of your floorboards woke her up), you thought you'd simply made her up. The last you remembered, Ghost didn't have long blonde hair and a petite figure. She frightened you when you walked back into the living room - the girl was standing in the small kitchenette area, heating up the broth while making you both a cup of tea.

"Mornin', sleeping beauty." - She hummed as she stretched her back, yawning as she did so. "Hi." - You muttered back, coughing right after. - "What are you doing here? When... Did you come?" "Around 8? Ghost had something going on and couldn't stay, unfortunately, so he called for backup. I'm the backup." "Figures. So sorry to bother you, but I'm good, Cass. Bet you'd rather be doing anything else than hanging around with me right now." "Shush, Y/N. I'm glad to be here." - The woman answered, sending you one of her heartfelt, genuine smiles. Damn, she was still the same sunshine you remembered. - "On a different topic, I hope you're hungry. The broth smells so damn good." "He promised to wake me up when it's done. Bet the plans came out of nowhere." - You assumed, putting on a sweater to try to fight off the chills. You were so cold that your teeth kept on clattering.

"Does sound like Ghost to me." - The girl answered, snickering. - "He checked on the flat at least four million times before he left, though, so you can be sure we're safe and sound here." "Were you cleaning up?" - You wondered, noticing the folded clothes - furrowing at the sight of your coat also being neatly folded. Whoever was cleaning up your kitchen was a damn genius. All of the appliances suddenly seemed pristine, even those that you struggled to clean for years. Everything was organized in a way that simply made sense. It was hard to explain, but the newly given order made your kitchen three times nicer. Also, all the mess laying around the flat, that you've been planning on cleaning the entire week, was neatly put on the coffee table for you to organize - along with that fucking photo... And that fucking letter. "No, me and Bon dozed off after McAvoy went on a tangent about his dough being a bit too wet." - Cassie admitted honestly, putting a mug filled with hot tea in front of you. You didn't flinch away from the sight of the photo and the letter lying on the coffee table, your expression devoid of emotion.

Ghost, you realized, your expression slowly drowning in worry and horror. Did Ghost see it? Did Ghost read it? Of course he did, you didn't bother with picking up the photo even though you knew it was lying under the fridge. Why would you? But what about about you now? You were in so much trouble, if Billy gets to know, he'll come and... You had to almost slap yourself. Billy wasn't there to do shit anymore. You were safe. As you sat there, frozen in place, you realized you weren't even mad at Ghost - it felt so freeing for someone to know. To know what you're going through, to see it all on paper. You should've been raging, you should ask Cassie to call Ghost's sorry ass so you could talk with him about who gave him the right to fucking snoop - and instead, you were so fucking grateful. A huge portion of the weight was lifted off your shoulders, realizing there was someone you could confide in regarding what Billy said... You could tell Ghost about everything Billy had done to you.

Sure, most people didn't like Billy, but none of the said people knew how bad the situation truly was. Others could see only how he treated you in public - how he talked about you as if you were a pet, something he had to take care of, something so annoying he hated it with every fiber of his being. What they didn't know? About everything that had happened in your old apartment, about what went down behind the closed doors. None of them knew about the numerous emergency visits, about all the 'stairs you've fallen off', about the holes in the walls, about the broken furniture and dishes. The people around you, except your mum, didn't know. The fact you didn't file a report against his ass was astonishing - you had plenty of chances to do so. The doctor who treated you anytime you came in asked multiple times if you'd like to share something with him - you could see it in his eyes - he knew. But you never did. You were too scared. So scared you fled one day.

You should've burnt both, the photo and the letter, just like you promised your mum. Instead, the evidence lay right there, on your coffee table, and someone whom you trusted dearly was aware of your struggle.

"You alright?" - Cassie wondered, watching your distressed expression. "Hm?" "I'm asking if you're alright, been silent for the past couple of minutes. You're looking like you've seen a ghost." "I'm pretty sure he's asleep by now, but okay." - You answered, your sass making Cassie snicker.

After you've both eaten a bowl of that delicious fucking broth (it was the best you've had in your life), chatting about everything new in your respective lives, Cassie fished out a package of butter biscuits from literally nowhere. Later, she admitted she found them in the pantry - this made you smile. While biscuits weren't your go-to snack, you could appreciate them - Ghost thought of everything. He bought utensils, medicine, actual food and even snacks. If God finally decided to answer your prayers for a guardian angel, Ghost was it. "'s the tea okay?" - Cass wondered, sitting opposite you with a croaked smile. Bonnie was lying by her feet, hoping Cassie would drop at least a crumble of cookies by 'accident'. "Best I've had in years. Poured your heart into making that cuppa, didn't you?" "You bet, love. Anywho, Johnny and I were wondering... What you're up to next Saturday?" "Nothing I can think of. I'll probably have a spa day with my mum. Hadn't taken her out in a month." "Would you like to come to a karaoke with us? It's in the evening, so you'd have plenty of time for your mum and yourself." - Cass asked excitedly, her eyes glimmering with hope. - "Everyone's wondering if you'd show up!"

"Uh-uh, they surely are." - You reiterated uncomfortably. It was hard to believe any of the people surrounding Cassie would genuinely want you around - you could say Cass was enthralled by the prospect of having you join their little crew, but the rest? "Not this again, girl. For starters, Johnny is talking my ear off regarding you, constantly asking if I've invited you yet? What did the bonnie say? You hadn't asked her? Shite, hon, pick up the phone and do it right now!" - The way she horridly imitated Johnny's accent made you genuinely laugh. - "Nelly asked countless times if you'd join our brunches and hangouts, she hadn't talked to you in years. Kylie will be there. Gaz promised he'd stop by for a drink, and Price... Girl, you'll love Capt'n Prize. He's easygoing, fun and very easy on the eyes." "Cass! Behave, you have a man at home." - You exclaimed, staring at her in disbelief. "What?! He's one handsome bloke, a high-ranking geezer in the military, too - I won't be denying he's handsome. If you think I'm wicked, you should hear what Johnny says about the guy! You have no idea how many times I've had to listen to Johnny's rambling about John's pecs." - With this, you both giggled until comfortable silence fell over the room.

"So... Are you coming?" "I... I don't think it's appropriate. You guys seem like a good party of friends, I'd be your plus one - the new weirdo on the block. Yannow what I mean?" "Except you wouldn't be, dummy. C'mon, everybody wants you to come. Ghost even said it's his only condition - you wouldn't wanna let the guy rot at home now, would you?" "He said that? You're committing emotional extortion right now, Cassandra." - You tried to circle around, but Cass' knowing smile revealed she was seeing right through your bullshit - she knew well to keep Ghost's wish under wraps until the last moment. It was nice watching you get excited, giddy up and grin a bit. She didn't answer your question, just smiled - "Well... If that's the case, I might drop for a glass or two." "I'm so happy to hear that. Wear whatever bloody hell you want, we don't care, just feel comfy and come in a good mood. The drinks are on us, we'll only need help with the rental. Also - we need to sing a song together." "No way Cass. You remember how bad I am at singing, right?" "Bull-fucking-shit. It's gonna be so epic. God, I can't wait."

Well, no matter how much you tried to resist and how you planned on shutting Cass' request down, by 9 p.m. on the following Saturday, the two were yelling some pop-song lyrics into the microphone with a drink in your hand. Holy fuck it felt wonderful to let all the worries and burdens go, even for one evening.

The week leading up to the karaoke session was a doozie for both you and Simon. He contemplated asking Cassie for your number, to call you, text, check on you - he'd been scheduled to look after rookie training in a boot camp a few miles away from London, unable to make it back even for a small chat. He vanished into thin air at the worst time - he acknowledged but couldn't do anything to let you know. The man wished to let you know he wasn't mad and that he certainly wasn't going anywhere - but opening such a sensitive topic with the victim of domestic abuse was very tricky. Of which he was aware, as he also fell into this bracket. At times, Ghost wished he'd be better at conveying emotions and more approachable to open such topics. Although everything that happened during his life, he'd considered himself a good listener - he highly doubted you'd simply spill the beans about the darkest time of your life when you meet up next time, let alone acknowledge he snooped in your private matters without your permission. Were you mad at him? How much will you tell Ghost off when he makes it back home? Will it lead to a well-deserved argument? It should, right? The thoughts about you and William consumed Simon's brain during each second of the service, turning him into an anxious ball by the end of the week.

Not that you'd be faring better than Simon. If it was possible, you were doing even worse than he was - what was wrong? Where was he? Was he okay? Did the letter make him change his mind? Did Ghost draw false conclusions from it? Each day at work, you hoped to see the man approaching in the distance, carrying two cups - this would be the first sign that everything was okay. You wished he'd drop by for a chat, even if you'd awkwardly sit around in silence. Being unable to see him was killing you - only on Thursday you learned about his minor deployment. It didn't ease the stress much, but at least you knew you weren't the cause of his disappearance.

Cassie and Johnny, thankfully, pulled through. The night Cass stayed over, watching you, rekindled the long-lost friendship and fueled it with a new flame. This one was gentler, not all-consuming - it wasn't the spontaneous friendship of two kids but rather a meaningful adult connection you felt you were missing. Your mum was over the moon hearing that Cass invited you for a karaoke - as you told her about Johnny bringing you breakfast the following morning put a gentle, knowing smile on her face. The two started texting you whenever they felt like it, ranging from 'How you doing' to 'Look what a weird strange thing I found in the store today'. Johnny even came on Friday to have lunch with you - he'd been just dismissed from the base (he had to sign some new payment estimates and take a picture for his personnel folder), sending warmest regards from Ghost. This boosted your mood immensely, turning you into a brand new person.

This led you to Saturday night. Everyone invited to the karaoke was pretty neat, you had to admit. Nelly, just as Cass solemnly swore, was over the moon when she saw you approaching the table, squealed, and immediately pulled you into one of her bear hugs. Kylie, even though you didn't remember her, was easy to be around - she had a nice aura surrounding her as she sipped on her margarita. Gaz, Kyle to you, was another member of Johnny's squad, you've learned on your way to get a drink. The gentleman got on his feet when you announced you'd like something to drink, offering to accompany you. There was something about his careful tone, gentle smirk and slightly narrowed eyes. While you perceived Johnny as an unstoppable force fuelled by sweets and coffee, Gaz seemed calmer, like cold gauze treating a burn or the soothing smell of air after rain. You loved his aura - every bit of energy Kyle offered, you took with a grateful smile.

John Price, Capt'n Prize as Cass dubbed him, was every bit like Cass painted him out to be - even more than that. It was hard to believe he was real at first - men like him usually ended up on the cover of Sears. Your eyes were there for Ghost and Ghost only, but damn, John was ridiculously easy on the eyes, charming, and attractive - a fucking stunner at his finest. When you got over his ridiculous attractiveness, there was everything else about John Price. There was something about his sharp wit, rascalous grin and devious jitters in his eyes, something about the way he insisted on joining him on his smoke breaks. The guy was a good listener, sneering and gruffing upon hearing your jokes and stories, his eyes not leaving you for a second. If you weren't smitten with your masked soldier, you'd beg Price to give you his number by the end of the night.

Ghost was running late ('Don't you worry 'bout the boy, lass, he's alright', Price informed), and after Gaz brought you your third drink, singing sounded like a good fucking idea. Not too much later, you and Cassie were jumping on the impromptu stage, dancing to some sort of British electro-pop, grinning from ear to ear - Ghost was standing in the shuffle door of your reserved lounge, watching you two enjoying the moment. He'd imagined how to explain his late arrival and the fact he was gone for a week, but the moment you sent him a smile and waved at him, already a bit tipsy, all the excuses dissipated into thin air.

You looked so beautiful when you were having fun - all the worries and everyday problems disappeared with a wave of a wand (more probably a microphone, that was), and alcohol gave you the long-lost courage and love for life. Ghost had seen you happy before, yes, but he hadn't seen you entirely carefree yet. "Thank you, Lucky Voice, thank you! We'll be here all week!" - Cass cried out drunkenly, bobbing a curtsy to the entire table of drunkards watching you. "The hell we won't, the rental price is insane here, lass!" - Johnny protested, making Cass laugh. Kylie and Gaz got up, preparing to sing Abba's 'Super Trouper' right after your tremendous performance. Even though Ghost would love nothing but listening to them, he couldn't miss how you approached him, your legs unsteady and uncertain.

"Hey there, stranger." "Hey, love." - The man whispered, growing soft upon looking at your flustered face. You were a bit sweaty from all the jumping, but you still looked so fucking good. So fucking good that Ghost had to do his best not to kiss you right off the bat in fact - it was a tough week and you were finally there, in front of him, close enough he could feel your warmth on his skin, close enough to be hugged, kissed and cherished... Your presence felt like a fever dream. He'd been sacked at the boot camp, looking over rookies, and following orders while having you and William on his mind all the fucking time. One moment, he swore he'd kill the guy the next chance he got; when he blinked, memories of you suddenly appeared, plastering yourself all over his brain, smiling sweetly at him. He's been missing your presence, the unmistakable charm you were bringing to the world... It was a week since he'd been under your spell and there was no other place in the entire world he'd rather be than at the karaoke bar, right by your side. "You're looking... Rough." "Am I now?" "Long week?" "Fuckin' tell me about it." "The boys mentioned. Wanna grab a drink and go for a smoke break? I'm fresh out of mine so I'd appreciate both - some booze and fresh air." "Would be my pleasure."

Asking him about all the details he'd been willing to share, the two of you grabbed a drink and ventured in front of the karaoke bar for a bit, lazily shuffling back into the rented lounge. Even though you tried your damnest to prolong the moment you were having with Ghost, Johnny ruined the intimacy the moment he saw you approaching - the guy jolted over to you, grabbing you by your elbow with great care. "We're gonna sign, bonnie lass, me 'n you. Price found the perfect song for us." "Did he now? That sounds menacing." "It'll be in good fun, c'mon. Be a good sport for me, eh?" "I would never turn you down, Johnny. I'm just worried about which tune Price picked out, 's all."

"Give me your drink. I'll fetch it to the table." - Ghost offered silently, melting at the sight of you and Johnny giggling like two little kids. With a sorrowful smile, your glass ended up in Ghost's palm - you wished the moment would've lasted longer, that you'd have longer for listening to him rambling about everything and nothing. You missed him. "'m sorry." - You added, stopping in your tracks. Johnny halted alongside you, watching the two of you ogling back and forth, Simon's eyes boring into you with unmatched intensity. If you'd let him, his eyes would probably devour you whole. Johnny let out a quiet whistle, waiting for you to be done with your small moment. Cassie proclaimed how she's positive Simon is into you and that you might be interested in him... But seeing it unravel in front of his eyes was adorable.

Your eyes never left Simon's face, your palm gently holding onto his forearm. You were standing inappropriately close - Simon could feel your breast bumping into his arm each time you took a breath. If you were anyone else (Nelly, for example), Ghost would've already shown you out of his personal space - but the guy did nothing, even took an almost unnoticeable step closer. The bloody bastard that reached an impressive 6'4 in height seemed to grow smaller and gentler in your presence, his eyes filled to the brim with warmth and adoration - why two you weren't dating yet was beyond Soap, truly. "Nothin' to be sorry about, love. You go and enjoy yourself now, yeah?" "I'll catch you later."

Moments later, you found yourself in a fit of laughter over Johnny's interpretation of 'California Gurls'. You loved everything about it - the false confidence he radiated despite not having any semblance of musical hearing, his inability to match his tone to the note progression and his horrible timing. The chorus, however, was something to behold - neither of you tried to sing, knowing the chorus by heart (thanks to this song being in the radio on a fucking loop), you simply yelled it into each other's faces, bouncing around and hyping each other up. Price didn't even cover the phone - he immortalized each second of your moving performance, sending it to Cassie the moment he ended recording. Cassie and Nelly were crying, losing it the moment you did your best to imitate Snoop Dog - Gaz appeared to be severely traumatized, cracking a grin when the hellish screeching finally stopped.

"Bloody hell, this was one of the best decisions of my life." - Price muttered, drying his cheeks. He meant it, none of them laughed this hard in the last few weeks. Cass was dragging him to sing their rendition of Take Me Out. - "I'm playin' this on your bloody wedding, sarge. Stellar." These two picked out Franz Ferdinand as their band of choice, dramatically portraying each lyric - alcohol and good company always made John pipe down, relax and sometimes, on extremely rare occasions, do rather silly and inappropriate things you wouldn't see a military skipped doing... Just as jumping around to the riff of 'Take Me Out'. "That's my fiancé! I taught my bonnie lass to listen to good fucken' music!" - Johnny explained, listening to the opening chords. You knew it, of course, it was well-known, but Johnny's sudden burst of pride made you stare at him with mouth agape. Thankfully, Kyle and Ghost to the rescue.

"Johnny can get a wee bit patriotic." - Kyle explained as the Scotsman jumped around in the rhythm, making you a bit terrified. "Uh-uh." - Ghost nodded, confirming. - "Hates us 'fucking lunatics', meaning Brits, according to his own words. Everyone except you and Cass according to his latest statement. Love that about the chap, though." "What does patriotism have to do with... Fucking anything?" - At that moment, Johnny started screaming the words with the same "grace" he sang California Gurls with. It looked both scary and funny at the same time. "The band is Scottish, you see?" - Kyle explained. "Heard him swearin' he'd plunk any uncultured swine who'd tarnish their rep." - Ghost added, taking a good swing of his whiskey. "Hillarious..." - Kyle added, clinking his glass with yours, kicking all the remnants in. "Scary." - You hummed, moving out of the way for Kyle to comfortably leave the table.

"On the topic of Johnny... Looked good out there. Didn't know you're such a talented singer." - Ghost murmured as you watched the trio, enchanted with how silly they acted. "You're fucking with me now, aren't you?" "I'm serious - wasn't as bad as I expected. Enjoyed every second of your brilliant performance." "If you enjoyed that, your musical hearing is fucked, buddy, sorry to inform you. Anywho, what will you sing?" "Oh, I'm just here for fun and banter. I don't do singing." "Don't be a party popper. C'mon." "And have you poking fun at me for the rest of my life? No, thank you." - Thankfully, he was saved by Nelly - she was asking for help with moving and assembling some furniture at her new place. Both Gaz and Ghost agreed to take a look at it whenever she needed them to.

His streak of not 'taking part in singing at karaoke' was challenged not even two hours later. The party had moved from drinks to shots - you were more courageous, not taking no for an answer. You, Cass and Nelly even had the first round of ugly crying of the night under your belts, crying about how you should've rekindled the friendship way sooner - at this, all the gentlemen decided to go for a smoke break, leaving Kyle behind as your nanny. As soon as Price got back, you were on his ass - sighing about him being one of the most handsome blokes you've ever met. Price could only choke out an amused: - "Why, thank you, miss." - before laughing his ass off at your drunk expression. You were standing in front of Simon now, your palm extended to him, chin risen ever so slightly. The expression you had was dangerous - determined and cocky.

"You need anythin'?" - Ghost prompted, grinning at the sight. He'd downed two glasses of whiskey by that point, the bourbon delicately burning in his chest. "Yah. You, me, the stage, now." - It wasn't a question nor a wish, it was an order. Simon's eyes narrowed as he smiled, darkening ever so slightly. He liked it when you were bossy. Cass, unbeknownst to your knowledge, bumped Johnny's shoulder, the duo now shamelessly staring at you. The rest of the table was engaged in a conversation as Price and Kyle told the ladies some of the less confidential stories. "I don't do singing, already told you when you asked." "Too bad I'm not asking. Move your ass, I spent ten fuckin' minutes looking for our song." "Our song?" - Simon whispered, all the air suddenly kicked out of his lungs. Of course, he knew what song you had in mind - the one playing when he worked on the chicken broth. Ashamedly, Simon had to admit he memorized each word, each chord because he had it playing on a loop in his headphones before going to sleep. "C'mon, mate. Make an exception, just for once - won't kill ya to sing. Poor lass barely hit the right keys." - Soap chimed in, his strong Scottish accent overwhelming the conversation - everyone's eyes were on you now, waiting for Simon to finally take your fucking hand. "Shit was kinda blurry, 's right." - You admitted, still waiting for Simon to take your hand. It wasn't a shame to admit you barely recognized a from m at this point, the alcohol kicked in big time.

His palm caught yours, slipping around it like a glove... As if your hands were moulded to be held by this, fitting like two pieces of a fucking puzzle. Getting you onto the improvised stage was a task in itself - you've stuttered on your way up and if it wasn't for Simon's hands catching your shoulders, you'd fall square on your face. "Who's singing Willow's part?" - Simon wondered as you offered him his microphone - your eyes darted next to his head as if you were trying to determine which of the Ghosts in front of you was the real one. "You, duh. Bet you're rocking luscious, beautiful curls under that mask 'f yours." "Fuckin' close 'nough, I guess." - The guy laughed, shaking his head at you - your drunk form was absolutely fucking adorable. If he'd have to describe it, you looked like a mischievous little devil. "Hit it, Jack!" - You exclaimed, pointing in Johnny's direction - Cassie was kneeling in front of the table with her phone at the ready, determined to catch every second of what was coming. Fuck, Simon realized, he'll have this on his plate for the foreseeable future. "Ma'am, yes ma'am!" - Soap answered with matching intensity, saluting as he his 'play'. The known base filled the silent lounge, having everyone staring at you with their breaths batted - you were swaying in the rhythm, your moves far from graceful but you were clearly enjoying yourself, lost in the moment.

You didn't know what you were expecting - Simon was a well-built man with 6'3 height under his belt, his voice naturally guttural and gruffly, clouded with a thick British accent. While you braced yourself to hear the most horrible hellish screeching imaginable, Simon's singing almost gave you a heart attack and swept Johnny off his drunk feet. Ghost sounded like an angel. All of you stared at the man in disbelief as he poured his fucking soul into the lyrics, hitting each fucking note perfectly. His interpretation of your favourite song was what you wanted to listen to over and over, selfishly wishing you'd record it. Simon had to poke your shoulder to make you realise it was your turn to sing - hastily, you joined him during the chorus, surprising your small audience even further.

Your singing wasn't bad, but not Grammy-worthy either - and yet, hearing you two harmonize was magical. Soon, you'd forget about your friends at the table, staring at each other while singing your hearts out. His eyes hadn't moved from yours, the man sang each line as if he meant it - it made your heart beat heavily in your chest. For Simon, it wasn't just singing - each line of the song had a meaning. It was one of his silly little wishes it could become your reality where you'd met earlier in your lives. In this universe, you'd be just two young adults falling in love, meeting up so you'd forget all about the stress and anxiety tying you down in each other's arms.

In that reality, Simon could be enough for you and you'd be enough for yourself. You wouldn't feel the need to stick around guys who weren't good for you, you wouldn't receive extortive mail, and you wouldn't be alone. He wouldn't cover his face because he couldn't stand to look himself in the eye, neither because he was protecting his identity. In this reality, William wouldn't exist. You'd have your spot in each others' arms, falling asleep feeling safe. In this reality, you could lead a happy, day-to-day life. There was a small moment when the song finished, a glimpse of a second when Simon almost kissed you. Your expression was adoring, glimmering with happiness and pure, unconditional love - the microphone dropped by your hip, and you were staring into his eyes, taking a small step closer. The whole moment was ruined by Nelly getting up, clapping and whistling cheerfully, others following suit - not bad for Si's karaoke debut, Cassie had to admit.

As you stumbled away from Simon's reach, you stumbled on your feet again, falling flat on the ground this time. - "Fuck." "Aight, missy, 's 'nough for you tonight. I'll take you home, yeah?" "Noooo, Ghoooost..." - You whined dramatically as he helped you over to the table, sitting you down. - "The party just started, man. We can't leave now." "You tell that to your toilet later. Price?" - Ghost called out, catching his skipper's attention. - "Can you look after Miss Diva for a second? Gotta go to the bog." "You got it, kid."

It couldn't have taken more than five minutes to take a piss, Simon rushed the entire process to be back as soon as possible. And yet, you were gone when he made it back - your coat disappeared from the hanger, your purse gone too. Jesus fucking Christ. You were giving him a run for his money. "Where is she?" - Simon demanded, burning a hole in Price's forehead. Five fucking minutes. He was meant to look after you for five fucking minutes. "Y/N got some sort of a text and said she has to leave immediately. Who am I to stop her? She's an adult. Can make her own bloody decisions." "I was just about to walk her home." "Then you should've said so. Hadn't caught that." "Right."- Ghost fumed out, turning to Cassie. - "Can you give me her number?" "Yeah, of course, let me text it to you. Want help with finding her?" "You go and enjoy the rest of the night." "Si!" - Cassie cried out as Simon turned on his heels, following him immediately. - "I'm sorry, but John's right. We weren't listening in and Y/N's a grown-up..." "It's fine, Cass. I'll find her."

You couldn't have made it far - in the state you were in, on your wobbly and unsteady legs? No way in hell you'd make it even around the block. What worried Simon, however, was the park to his right hand. The man hoped you had enough reason not to walk through it. The first thing he heard was a hiccup before you drunkardly mumbled your name, doing your best impression of being sober. "'s me. Where have you fuckin' disappeared to?" "Me? I know a lot of mes, sir. My mum told me not to talk to strangers. S-Stranger fuckin' danger an' all that, yannow?" "It's Ghost, Y/N, you slipped out of the karaoke bar. Where the hell are you, woman?" "Awwww, hiiiii. I didn't know *hiccup* you had my number?" "Got it from Cass. Can you spill the tea?" "'m on my way home." - You explained as if it weren't obvious. - "The mood for partying kinda dropped to zero, decided I gotta go check on my adorable little doggo. I missed my sweet little princess." "That's all sweet. What do you see around you?" - Thankfully, you were drunk enough not to catch onto his plan of finding you and started to talk about your surroundings. For once, Simon was grateful for drunk people being gullible and honest.

"Trees. Lots of 'em. 's kinda dark around but I'm pretty sure some food *hiccup* in the distance. Yep, right up the vein!" "Dearie, don't say this sort'f stuff so loud, yeah?" - Simon asked, turning on his heels towards the park. He could hear you giggle on the other end, the sweet sound making him grin. - "What's that about?" "Dearie is cute 'n all, but I like it when you call me love. Makes me weak in my knees 'n all." - You admitted, stuttering over your words as you tee-heed again as if you told Simon some well-guarded secret. As if Simon didn't already know. "'kay love, tell me more about your surroundings, I'm on my way to get you. Can call you love for the rest of the night if you'd fancy that." "Ohmygod..." - You sighed swiftly, chuckling at the prospect ahead. Ghost tenderly whispering 'love' the whole night sounded like a fucking dream come true. - "You'd *hiccup*... You'd like to do that?" "Wished to do so for the longest time, love."

"I can see a bistro and some... Fuckin' statue. Whatever the fuck that's *hiccup* supposed to be, it's scary." "Any benches in the area?" - Even though your description was far from eloquent, Simon knew the place you had in mind. It was a small takeaway coffee selling baked goods and hot drinks to go. He hadn't visited it, but Cass mentioned it here and there because it wasn't far from her workplace and she enjoyed going there on her lunch break. The statue, if he wasn't mistaken, was representing either Shakespeare or Peter Pan, but Simon was unable to recall it correctly at the moment. As he suspected, you didn't get far at all. "Quite a lot. Fuck, I think it's some sort'f a square or somethin'." "Sit down for me, love, I'll be there soon. Stay with me on the phone for now, yeah?" "But I miss Bonnie soooo much, Ghost, I just wanna..." - He could hear as you struggled to sit down and fell onto the bench beats later. It was hard to make out what you precisely wanted to do to Bonnie, but he could hear some humming and kisses here and there. - "She's home all alone, my poor baby." "Not for long now, I swear, we'll take off as soon as I find you. How you're feelin'?" "Haven't thrown up yet. 's a good sign, no?" "Look at you. Quite impressive given everything you've poured down your throat." "I can handle my *hiccup* fuckin' alcohol." "You sure can..." - Simon answered breathlessly, finally reaching the spot - he could see your silhouette splayed all over the bench, your coat undone, your purse lying right next to you. - "You sure can, love." - He said as he approached, having you sit up straight faster than lightning. Your expression started beaming with blissful happiness the second you laid your eyes on him.

"Hi, Ghost!" - You squealed, shoving the phone into your purse, not caring to end the call. - "You look good tonight. *hiccup* Have I told you that already?" "Not that I can recall, no. Lookin' beautiful yourself." "Now you're just making shit up, I'm fuckin' wasted, dude. Drunk people never look sexy, 's what I always said anyway." "You look amazing all the time, love, without a fail. C'mon now, let's get you home." "You mean that?" - You whispered, your eyes glued to his as he helped you to stand your feet. Without his arm around your waist guiding you forward, you'd be fucked. Everything was blurry and multiplied, you couldn't say which trees were real and which were just a fragment of your imagination. "Never meant anything more in my life. Even in the most worn-out sweatpants you own. Let me take you home now, you sexy beast." "Never say that again. Sexy beast? Love's so much better. Jesus." "Your wish is my command, ma'am." - Ghost muttered sweetly, leading you towards the bus stop. Both of you were laughing, you were right - 'sexy beast' was the most horrid-sounding pet name that ever graced Simon's lips.

As mentioned before, Simon hated being the centre of attention - everything about that made the hair on his arms stand in pure displeasure. He hated when people stared at him, fearing that he was a threat; he just wished to blend into the crowd and remain unseen and unnoticed. Let's just say... That being unnoticed in a packed double-decker in central London with a giggling, drunken mess in his arms was near impossible. For once, however, Simon wouldn't change for the world - it was endearing to feel you grasping his jacket, nuzzling yourself closer so you wouldn't fall on some stranger in such a confined space. Watching and feeling your head leaning to his chest with a confined smile, taking a relaxed breath - smelling him and listening to his heartbeat. He'd imagined this so many times. Even though the circumstances were far from perfect, everything about it made Simon happy. He'd come to rescue you from any party you'd go to just to feel the fuzzy warmth bubbling in his chest again.

When you finally arrived at your flat, the first thing you did was turn into a whiney mess - instantly, you were on your knees, your clothes leaving very little to Simon's imagination. You burrowed your head in Bonnie's fur, sobbing uncontrollably. As he locked the door behind you, Simon simply hoped it was happy, let it be ugly, crying. "She's... She's so perfect." - You sobbed, pulling Bonnie close to your chest as you looked up to Simon, your make-up absolutely ruined by that point. The dog was clueless and didn't know what was happening - it simply licked your chin feverishly, welcoming you home. - "She's the best thing in my life right nooooow..." - And now, you were whaling. Great. Drunk women were the most ferocious and dangerous creatures in the universe - Simon was adamant about that. - "I love her soooo fucking much." "Absolutely correct, love, she's our perfect little girl. How about we clean your face and change you to more comfortable clothes?" Simon whispered, pulling a strand of hair behind your ear.

Seriously, he needed you to change your clothes ASAP - he'd love anything else but watching your figure and curves (the current view alone was bringing Simon many indecent thoughts)... But drunk fucking wasn't something Riley would be interested in - if the two of you were going to have sex, it would be sober and with full consent. The man prayed to whatever gods up there to make you change into the baggiest sweatpants and shirt you had lying around to cool off his libido. As you crawled out of your bedroom in a Bristle Bears jersey with biker shorts under, the crisis was, thankfully, averted.

Twenty minutes later, you splattered over your sofa - the TV was playing in the background as you sat with your face turned to Simon. He gently ran at least the 20th makeup wipe over your face with the utmost gentleness he could muster, concentration knitting his eyebrows together. He even took the liberty of making you a cup of tea, God bless him.

The window was crooked open, the rest of his cig slowly burning out in an improvised ashtray you crafted for him. That was when Simon noticed yet another wave of tears in your eyes. "What is it, love? Did I poke your eye on accident?" "No, that's not it. Thank you for being so nice to me." - You sobbed, first tears rolling down your cheeks. Simon sighed, doing his best to keep his inner peace balanced - seeing you cry for the millionth time was both soul-crushing and tiring at the same time. "'s nothin', trust me. What's goin' on in that noggin of yours?"

"You." - It was just a whisper, but it made Simon straighten up - his head slightly tilted this shoulder, his eyebrows cocked in confusion. - "Ehm, I meant, your face. You're being so nice to me, take care of me even though you don't have to, spend your free time in that damn flower shop with me even though all I can offer is my company..." "But your company's enough for me, trust..." "... And I don't even know *sob* what you look like." - You whinced, wiggling away from his palm. You were doing your best to stop the childish tantrum, even bent your head backwards and tried pushing the tears back in. - "It just... Doesn't feel fair, yannow? I know you have your reasons for covering your face. I know I'm acting like an absolute asshole over something so minuscule right now. Do you realize how stupid I feel for crushing on someone whose face I hadn't seen? I'd recognize your eyes anywhere, but I'd like to see more. And no matter what, I can't stop wishing to see more, even though I know it won't ever happen. Like... You hadn't told me what your name is, I just got your number because you were pissed at me, you never talk about yourself, or share details... And me crying about it is the stupidest and most selfish thing fucking ever because I'm your friend, and I'm supposed to respect your fucking privacy..."

Simon didn't move for a few beats, tuning out whatever you were ranting about - not that he didn't want to listen, but because the simple confession stole his breath away. What did you just say? Crushing? You had a crush on him? Simon was ready to outright propose if you'd like to, right there on your sofa, to your whiney, drunk ass. Confirming you had true feelings for him was marvellous, stopping his mind from wondering whether just flirted around, making him out to be just a nice little distraction. You weren't. As he processed the information, he couldn't help but chuckle - the sound halted your crying and whining immediately. If you had asked him any other time, Simon would've most likely denied the request outright... But since you were both drunk, the liquid courage was making him less self-aware and more confident. Why not? Why shouldn't he just go for it? Take his chances with you?

"... And I even asked Cassie about you even though I knew I shouldn't... I'm such a fucking prick, bloody hell." "That's what you're cryin' your pretty eyes out about?" - Simon asked, completely detached from whatever you were going about for the last few minutes. "I mean... *sob* I know it's selfish 'n all, but I'd say... Fuck! Yannow, some guys on the telly said that non-verbal communication makes up to 70% of all human interactions." "All you gotta do is ask, pretty girl." - Simon murmured, his breath growing shallow - his heart was beating so fast as if it were to burst out of his fucking chest, pressure raising rapidly as he realized the insanity of what was he was about to do. He'd push the baklava off his face if his palms weren't a sweaty, trembling mess. "Ghost, I beg you - can I see what you look like?" "Take it off yourself, love."

Gently scooping closer to him, you pumped your fingers a few times to stop them from shaking. Your adrenaline shot through the roof, and you started dragging your fingers on his shoulders, slowly working your way to his neck - giving him time to process your touch and get used to the stimuli. His body felt scorching under your touch, his pulse fast under the tips of your fingers. His eyes were closed, breathing unsteady, muscles tensed up unnaturally. You could see Ghost's palm clinging to the back of your couch, his fingers buried in with a force that turned his knuckles white. As you finally started peeling the baklava off, his body shuttered, leaning away from you. As if it was an unconscious reaction, Simon didn't spend any time before sliding back within comfortable reach, already missing the comfort of your touch. "You sure it's okay for you?" "Mhm. Just keep goin'. Don't stop - if you stop, it'll kill me, darling." - Simon muttered, securing himself in place. His leg was lazily thrown over your waist so you'd sit puzzled together, Bonnie sleeping wedged into the small space. He wanted you to see. Simon wished to look you in the eyes without covering his face. He finally wished you to experience and feel all the love and adoration brewing within him. "Okay."

Much to his dismay, you were taking your bloody time, tearing the material off so agonizingly slow - one hand was lifting the fabric, your dominant hand gently caressing every inch of the newly discovered skin. Your eyes tried to memorise it all in case you wouldn't see it again - the dent in his chin, his fawn stubble, the sharp outline of his jaw, sharp contours of his cheeks, his plush and full lips and even the ugly scar reaching from his upper lip to his left nostril. Your caresses worshipped his hooked nose, the sweet dark spots under his eyes, and all the freckles standing out on his upper cheeks thanks to the area being exposed to the sun more than the rest of his place. He could feel your touches moulding his skin gently, dragging your fingers on the ugly scar on his temple, carefully tugging on his soft dirty blonde hair - then, suddenly, the baklava was fully off. Simon felt it coming, but it still surprised him; so much so that he squished his lips into a tight line, as if he tried to hide from your eyes for even a second longer. Your hand discarded the baklava almost carelessly. Knowing you've thrown Simon's most precious shield on the ground left him utterly defenceless in your arms, at the mercy of your words and actions. And yet, there was no other place he'd rather be in the entire world.

"Ghost..." - Your voice grew meek with adoration and emotion, your palms still kneading his face. It was then that he finally allowed himself to peek at you, to see your expression. Your lips were parted slightly, your face flushed with heat, your eyes scanning him adoringly. Tears were dropping on your cheeks again. This time, Simon knew they were the result of the happiness you felt, therefore he didn't comment on them. Fuck, he felt like the luckiest and most handsome man walking the Earth.

"Hey there, dolly." - Gently, his lips brushed over the inner side of your palm before he leaned back into the touch. "You're so fucking beautiful. Bonnie, look." - Picking the dog up, you pointed at Simon's face and giggled, making Simon smirk right back at you. The dog yawned, licking its mouth and shaking its head - it wasn't interested in Simon's face to reveal in the slightest. - "He's perfect. Isn't he perfect? Tell him how fucking flawless he is, come on." "You don't mean that. That's the alcohol talking." - Simon chuckled while looking away from you, his Adam's apple bobbing as he forced a gulp down his throat. Embarrassment painted his cheeks bright pink. You made him blush, you realized, staring at him with your mouth agape. The triumph made you cackle.

The duality of Ghost left you speechless - a confident, 6'4 guy not to be messed around with the mask, snarky humour, and his physical presence overwhelming you every time. This Ghost? Giggly, happy, slightly drunk. You loved how comfortable he looked with legs puzzled around your waist, his right arm leaning into the sofa as he looked everywhere around the room instead of you. You adored every inch of his dark pink blush and the entire universe that exploded, establishing itself behind his eyes. So this was the man you loved, the one you pinned after for the last few months? You loved every inch of him. Even if he'd look utterly different, you'd still be enchanted.

"Piss drunk people are always honest." - You admitted, caressing his upper arm. Were you staring? Probably. Was it making Ghost uncomfortable or flattered? Hard to tell. Could you be stopped? No. When will you get another chance like this, to fawn over his beauty in its full glory? He was everything you imagined... And much more than that.

"... I really like it when you blush." - It was a careful admission, but you meant it. You put Bonnie down on your lap again, leaning your elbow into the couch right next to his arm, so you could stare at him more comfortably. "... And I really like you." - Simon spilt without giving it too much thought, immediately realizing what he'd just said. Well, as Price often said, in for a penny - in for a pound. This was the night of admissions and confessions... At least it was turning out to be. And each little confession felt natural, lifting heaviness off his shoulders. You knew. You must've known by now. And yet, finally admitting to it felt uplifting. "I just want you to know that if I was bold enough, I'd kiss you right now, Ghost..." "Simon." - The man whispered, shutting you off. Hearing his government name lit your face up. An amazed sigh left your lips as you connected his name to his appearance, burning it into the back of your head. - "It's Simon Riley... My name's Simon Riley. I should've told you way sooner."

"Oh, Simon, Simon, Simon, Simon..." - You chanted as if you hadn't heard a more beautiful word before. Biting your lip, your hand has risen to his cheek again, cupping it gently. Hearing his own name falling off your lips like that was heavenly. - "A name for an angel rather than for a Ghost. I like that name. It suits you." "I'm glad to hear that, ma'am." - Simon didn't like it. The name reminded him of his old man way too much, connecting him to a troubled family tree, to the people who turned him into what he was. He wasn't willing to ruin the moment you shared, however. If you said his name's nice... It must've been. "And may I?" - You whispered, staring at his lips. Simon licked his lips expectedly, nodding to let you know it's fine, that he wants it too. He put his hand on your waist, holding you in place as he scooped you closer - you were puzzling himself into his arms as if you belonged there forever, being that one little silly puzzle piece he'd lost before he was born. Your knees wrapped around his waist as you palmed his t-shirt, steadying your position.

You were both taking your time, giggling excitedly, blissed with disbelief. Your breathing was tickling Simon's face, making Simon's smile widen. Your eyes closed as you positioned your elbow around his shoulders, your nails gently scratching his scalp. So close... He was so close. Your noses bumped together, warm skin dragging across each other, your breath finally stabilizing as you got ready for the final stretch. Simon could feel your lips brush against his... But the kiss didn't come. It never came, in fact. The moment Simon opened his eyes to deduce what was wrong, a snore cut through the comfortable silence in your apartment. At first, it shut Simon off. He was staring at you, holding his palms on your shoulder blades, playing with the ends of your hair - until he started laughing quietly.

He wasn't upset, God forbid angry with you. You were trolled, in the end, drinking way more than you should - he half expected to be holding your hair for you by this point of the night. Even though you hadn't really touched the first base, this night turned into everything Simon wished for. This was just his luck - the lady holding his heart in a headlock dozing off before anything happened. "She's knackered." - Simon whispered towards Bonnie lying on the ground. The cutesy dog had no idea what he was saying, but she was excited enough to nuzzle and nibble on his ankle. - "I know, sweet girl, I know. Let me put mommy to bed, and then we'll set out for a walkie, yeah?" - The man ushered as he started folding you into his arms bridal style. Upon the word 'walkie', Bonnie growled and whimpered excitedly, almost wiggling her tail off. - "Hush, you little furry beast."

The duo spent half an hour walking outside on a cold night, Simon taking his bloody time smoking a few cigarettes to calm down. Bonnie was doing her own thing, carrying various sticks to him so they could play fetch. As soon as the door to your flat opened and Bonnie's paws got cleaned, the dog sped into your bedroom, nuzzling to you - all you did in response was throw your hand over her, grunting displeasantly. Before leaving, Simon quickly put together a note.

'Thank you for one of the best nights of my life. Prepared some coffee and painkillers for you on the counter. Text me when you wake up. Love, - Simon'

[louisupdates]

YOUR SUPPORT IS MORE THAN ENOUGH - Louis Tomlinson

Wyss [Stefan Wyss at Gadget ABC Entertainment] adds, “He’s kept the ticket prices reasonable – and he never wants to do any gold circle or VIP tickets. I think that’s why he’s so close to his fans, because it’s not about maximising profits. Another reason for his success is that in addition to attracting a mainstream audience, he’s also getting the music lovers because he’s just a very good songwriter and has brilliant songs.”

“In terms of the show growing, our biggest challenge is keeping costs down, because we’re extremely cautious on ticket pricing,” says Vines [Matt Vines, Louis’ manager]. “We don’t do dynamic pricing, we don’t do platinum ticketing, we don’t do paid VIPs, we don’t increase ticket prices on aisle seats – all those tricks that everyone does that most fans don’t know about: we don’t do any of those.”

Rowland [Holly Rowland, Louis’ touring agent] reveals that, at the artist’s insistence, a safety team has been added to the tour to ensure everyone that attends his shows is looked after. “They manage all the safety within the shows for the fans,” she explains. “They came in for the Wembley show last year and have been with us ever since - they’ve been beneficial to the running of the tour.

Dowling [Jack Dowling at SJM] adds, “Louis really looks after his fans. On the last tour, they did a deal with Greggs to give free food to the people waiting in line, as some of them camped out for days in advance.”

With Tomlinson determined to meet a duty of care toward his fans, Vines says that the team now sends a “considerable advance package” to promoters ahead of their tour dates. “Our safety team goes into venues in the morning, and basically ensures that a number of different things are in place – making sure that water is given to the fans, where the water comes from, and at what points in the show it happens.”

- IQ 123, 8.11.2023

Louis via Twitter, 6.2.20, 14.1.20

The festival is being held in celebration of the return of live music this summer following more than 16 months of Covid 19 restrictions. As his own world tour is completely sold out, Tomlinson wanted to make tickets for this event completely free for fans via a prize draw.

Louis Tomlinson said: "I’ve been sat on this idea for the last 12 months at least and now to see it come to life makes me very excited. Personally, playing live shows is the best part of what I do and it’s been far too long since I've seen my fans, so I wanted to put this festival on to say thank you for all the support and celebrate the return of live music. I’ve got a really good feeling it’s going to be a really special night. We all deserve that!"

- Music Week, 30.7.2021

Whoa, whoa, wait. There's one last thing. Listen, arguably the most important thank you, and I do this every night, but let me do this in a special kind of way. Anyone who's been to any of these shows on this year. Anyone who's supported any of the shows online and maybe couldn't make it to a show. I feel your fucking support every single day and let me say how grateful I am. Thank you, thank you, thank you. This year has been incredibly special. I hope it's been alright for you too.

- Louis Tomlinson, FITFWT23: Birmingham [18.11.2023] video harrystyles.k on TikTok

[anothersoulless]

Seven Minutes in Hell {Breakup! Eustass Kid X Reader}

You have been treated badly one too many times. It's time to leave your Boyfriend behind

Shit hasn't been well, this song slaps and let's get this shit show started!

Ofc kinda angsty(not really though?, but on god Reader deserves freedom (Dw, my pookie will get another actual One shot soon lmao, hopefully as tasteful as the song but lbfr i'll probabky flump it again)

Anywho, let's get it started

Admittedly, your relationship with Kid was everything but healthy. He was loud and didn't really care about if you had to stand up in the morning, police called to your place more than once for loud screaming and arguments. There were his guy friends, his crew, that were obviously higher on his priority list than you — far higher. The amount of times he nearly went to jail for them, you'd thought Kid would have learned his lesson, but alas he never did. And you? Well, you seemed to only be there for one thing — stress relief. If that meant fucking you and screaming at you, something even throwing random stuff at you he found in the house, well, that was for him to decide on the whim.

If at least the sex was good, but even that was all about him. It was like the world revolved around him and only him and everyone had to do what he wanted. Well, too bad for him, you had enough. Years of misery finally snapping to a close, you decided he wasn't worth your time anymore. You were done with being treated like an old-timey housewife of the Middle Ages. You had packed your things while he was out with his friends again, ready to leave. There was no way in hell however you would want to miss his face when you confronted him, oh how you imagined he'd look. Would he be upset, would he scream at you again, only proving your point?

You put your last bag in your best friend's trunk, she had been kind enough to lend you a hand in her endeavor. If it went how she wanted to, you probably wouldn't even have started this relationship, but now she just sat ready to drive, the box of glitter she brought still sitting on the back seat as she gave you a last encouraging nod to take it. You didn't and went back inside, letting her know it could get late — she waited, of course. And you went back inside.

Kid was expecting food on the stove when he came back home, he didn't even notice your shoes missing on the shoe rack out front when he unlocked the apartment, but he did notice one thing — all that decor he had absolutely despised missing. He even smiled triumphantly before he realised the missing smell of fresh food. Kicking off his boots haphazardly, he stopped into the kitchen and saw you on your phone, sitting on a chair at the table. "Yo, what's with food?" "I won't make you food anymore."

There was a silence, a calm before the storm. You put your phone in your back pocket before he could fly off the handle, just in time. "What the fuck?! You're not even gonna make me food now, what are you even worth?!" You let him have his little temper tantrum, before you sighed. "We're done, Kid. I'm worth far more than you, and by all means... I really hope you never get another partner in your life, my god" He seethed, his face contorting in anger, but he didn't say anything, couldn't say anything, words missing on his tongue and voice dying in his throat. "Oh, and uh, I'm moving out. Like today." You shrugged.

All the tension in him seemed to snap at once, as he lunged forwards, grabbing you by your throat and pushing you against the wall. His metal fingers pressing down hard, actually restricting your airway. "You fucking bitch have the audacity to come in here, live here for years, be absolutely useless to me, then up and leave? No, no, you don't get to do that!" "Well, I was good enough to make you food. And to get you off, apparently. Also, you hurt me in any way, I won't hesitate to call the police, I only need to press one button right now." He huffed, he really seemed like a bull trapped in a ring with gladiators, just that this was no real fight. "Don't fucking pretend like you didn't like this shit, wasn't that part of the reason you even came here in the first place?"

"It was, at the start" You smiled. "You just kind of… Put me through hell, not gonna lie. Like, you've gotten so bad in bed, it's actively hell. Like I'm just there, and honestly, no. Not even a thank you, no — just no." His hands clenched into fists, and for a second you thought you had crossed the line, as he raised his hand, before he turned, smashing the table with his prosthetic. "Get out you fucking whore! Get out, or I swear I'll rip your fucking throat out!" You didn't need to get asked twice, running to your friends' car, who looked at you worriedly, but you smiled as you hoped into the passenger seat. "Drive, Drive!" And without a word, she started the car as you began laughing. Finally, you were free again.

[yourkimjaejin]

Burn Marks

They had told her to be careful. 

After a successful three days in Seoul, two days in Japan then the show two days ago in Madrid, AG had finally made it back to Paris. It had been years since the girls were in the city of love for Breakthrough’s music video shoot. This time, thankfully, no creepy guys or horrible managers were in sight. 

The members got to enjoy a day on the town before a stage rehearsal later that night. Immediately, Moxy and Aurora dragged their other members through the streets until they reached Miss Eve’s bakery. The older woman was beyond happy to see the girls again, this time all grown up. Juno and Hannah understood why the youngest member couldn’t stop talking about the pastries. They all tasted heavenly. While eating, they filled Miss Eve in on what had been going on since she saw them last. They even brought more posters and memorabilla to line the bakeries walls.

“I know you all getting big. Every year, more and more fans stop to admire my posters. I tell them ‘I meet AG before becoming famous.” Miss Eve's bragging had the girls falling out of their seats. 

Before they left, the girls invited Miss Eve to come to the concert, her eyes light up in excitement, “I bring niece! She big fan.” Miss Eve wouldn’t let them leave without bringing more food for their staff at the venue. The girls waved at Miss Eve as the car pulled off. 

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

It’s been a long rehearsal. AG would be lucky to be in bed by 3am. Being at a smaller venue meant, readjusting every single performance so they stayed safe. Fortunately, the end was in sight. The director wanted to run through five more songs, but first was Cannonball. In the Seoul stadium, Cannonball had huge balls of fire going off all around the stage. Because of the size the girls were free to run wild. In smaller stadiums, everything was shifted and restricted for the girls' safety. The director would rather be safe than sorry especially with Hannah and Aurora since they were closest to the pyro. 

Everything was going smoothly until they spread out for the second verse of the song. Everyone was tired. The lethargy creeping into their bones had everyone acting silly in an attempt to make it through the song Aurora was jumping along with her group of dancers near the left of the stage. None of them paid attention to how close they had gotten the pyro until it was too late. The maknae flung her arm out just as her previously recorded voice screams “Let’s Go!” into the empty arena. 

Aurora smelt it first. She couldn’t place the exact smell nor could Aurora describe it. Can one really explain the smell of burning. 

Then the pain set in. 

Aurora's terrified scream halted everyone. Her three older members all flinched at the sound, taking a moment to realize that sound came from Aurora before they surrounded her. Encircling her between them. 

“What happened?”

“Aurora what hurts?”

“Do you need a doctor?” 

Somebody's finger grazed the burn spot on her arms causing another shrill scream to echo around the venue. “It hurts unnie, it hurts.” Aurora whimpered, clutching her arm close to her chest. Hannah catches the eye of their leader nodding her head toward backstage. Nodding, Moxy takes off to find the doctor. Without prompt, Juno turns her attention to the dancers.

“Did you see what happened?” Juno asked. One of them, a female dancer that has been with AG for years, nodded. 

“I guess we got too close to the pyro. Aurora-ssi flung her arm out just as the fire went off. Her arm was only in it for a second, Could that much damage happen that fast?” The dancer asked. 

“I’ll be able to tell you in a moment.” The voice of the on-site doctor answered as Moxy followed behind him. He walked onto the stage with his first aid kit toward the two girls and kneeled down in front of them. 

“Hi Aurora-ssi. It’s nice to meet you. I had hoped it wouldn’t be this soon but that's neither here nor there. I’m Doctor Choi and I’ll be traveling with you for the duration of your tour.” Doctor Choi placed his first aid kit in front of the quartet, opening it so they all could see inside. 

“Now Aurora, Moxy-ssi has informed me that you’ve burned yourself on the pyro. Could I see your arm? I won’t even touch it. I just need to see how serious the burn is to determine if you need to go to hospital..” Aurora looked to her unnies first. At Moxy’s nod, she held her forearm out in front of them for Doctor Choi to examine. Compared to her complexion, the burn mark stood out. The skin had turned red, some places puffed up and bumpy. 

“Good news, Aurora-ssi doesn’t need a hospital but we do need to move her backstage for me to treat her.” Doctor Choi closed his case and stood up. Worry grew between all four girls.

“Why backstage?” Hannah asked while helping Aurora stand without putting pressure on the younger arm. The doc was already walking to the back, the members forced to follow. 

“Because she has second degree burns. They need to be treated properly and I don’t have all the supplies in need in my bag..” At the doctor’s answer, four pairs of footsteps sped up. Doctor Choi led them to his makeshift treatment room and enlisted the girls' help in patching up Aurora's arm. 

Through each step he explained what he was doing and why. First, they rinsed the burn under cool water. “This’ll get the pain to stop.” Next, Doctor Choi had Hannah gently wash the area to disinfect it. Pangs of hurt ripple thru the older girls every time their maknae hissed in pain. 

Then, as carefully as he could, the doctor spread petroleum jelly across the entire burn. “This is to keep the area hydrated while it heals. I’ll also get some gauze with petroleum jelly already on it.” Lastly, Doctor Choi wrapped the burn snug enough not to move while Aurora dances but not tight enough to hurt. 

“Now, as long as you wash it every day and keep the wound hydrated with an ointment or more petroleum jelly, the burn should heal in three to four weeks. You’ll have to wear the gauze during performances though. If that’s all, I’d suggest Aurora-ssi sit out the rest of the rehearsal." Before she could argue, Moxy agreed. 

“Actually, we're all heading back to the hotel until closer to showtime.” 

Aurora shook her head, “Unnie we had four more songs to run through.” 

“Four song rehearsals don’t take priority over your health. Thank you for your help Doctor Choi.” Moxy bowed while Hannah pushed the group out the door, through the stadium  and to the parking lot where a car was already waiting for them. 

The ride back was quiet, all the girls were rocked physically and emotionally from what happened to Aurora but nobody felt that more than the maknae herself. Now that the painkillers were kicking in, the pain was ebbing away. But the sight of her bandaged forearm was an ugly reminder of what happened. Finally the familiar front of their hotel greeted their eyes. Slowly, all four women dragged their bodies through the ornate lobby to the elevators. The maknae knew after everything that had happened, there was no way her unnies would leave her alone. But she just wanted a second to process. Aurora tugged on her leader’s sleeve. She mouthed the words, Code: Alone Time. Migyeong pursed her lips but nodded, everyone in NCT respected the codes. When the elevator opened, Moxy herded Juno and Hannah to her room leaving Aurora to enter hers. There was a bit of push back but one look silenced them. Aurora closed the door and flopped onto her bed finally able to breathe. 

With nothing else to do, Aurora took a nap, taking care not to lay on her bandaged arm.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\ 

Aurora didn’t know how long she was asleep until she felt fingers running through her hair, gently undoing the slight tangles. Aurora could tell it was Hannah. Her other members weren’t ones for gentle wake up calls. 

“Eunji-ah? You awake?” Hannah murmured. Her fingers were pulling away but the maknae pushed her head back into her unnie’s palm. A soft smile grew on Hannah’s face, fingers continuing their mission. It was rare for Aurora to let her maknae tendencies loose. 

“You gotta get up. It’s time to head to the venue.” The elder got a hum in response but neither moved to get up. Hannah wasn’t in a hurry to rush the younger singer. Aurora was strong but that didn’t mean she was immune to shock or pain. If she wasn’t ready then they’d postpone until Aurora was. 

“I wanna inform the fans…about what happened.” she sat up, stroking her arm softly, “I don’t want them to worry when they see this bandage tonight.” 

Hannah reached over ruffling Aurora hair, “I think we can make that happen. But first we gotta visit the doc and get that gauze changed.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello this is SM Entertainment, We’re here to inform the fans of a minor injury update. At the rehearsal for NCT AG’s concert in Paris tonight, Aurora sustained a minor burn on her arm. She is okay and has been treated already. Aurora has also chosen to perform tonight and will keep her arm wrapped until the injury heals completely.  Aurora is okay and urges fans to ease their worries and enjoy the show. We wish Aurora a speedy recovery and good luck for the concert tonight. 

Comments:

Not Aurora!!! Glad they said she chose to perform Omo!! I hope she’s okay How the heck did she get burned during rehearsal Paris czennies!! Cheer extra loud for our maknae tonight.

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

First part of the Tour!Angst is in the books!!!! I hope you all liked it. I've been writing these since last year so I hope they live up to the work I've put in. Next up is Moxy so until then have a great day!! ~ Author Izzy

Taglist: @alixnsuperstxr / @1-800-call-ria / @sophrodite / @sunflower-0180

[king-krisu]

I hope K. will not only produce partybangers in the future. I understand that songs like kovis/morgan are not commercial enough as a single, but icip is just not mine cup of tea. I think he will keep his core fans, but I don't see songs like icip being successful in the charts, but maybe I'm wrong

I understand your concern, and personally I also don't think ICIP will be a commercial hit unless Kääryleet *really* stream the fuck out of it. Idk if you're finnish or not, but here CCC wasn't even the most played radio single of this year, it came in second with Kuumaa's Ylivoimainen being nr 1. Probably because it's more paletable for mainstream audiences. I think the whole point of the ICIP MV is to show that Jere doesn't give a fuck about being commercially successful, if it means he has to censor himself and restrict his creative expression (like for example, being the family friendly "koko kansan Käärijä" that he so desperately wants to shed in the mv).

I don't wish to assume, and please correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't really understand your point of diminishing songs just because they're "partybangers". Yes, Jere has a lot of them, but Kovis isn't even about parties? It's actually quite a personal song to him about realising how bad you must feel about yourself to comment something negative online. And Morgan is about how dumb it is to drink so much you don't remember anything from last night, and on top of that having an awful hangover to deal with.

Further than that, Jere had a very interesting conversation on Urheilucast about his biggest source of inspiration, Rammstein. While their songs are maybe a bit more complex than your usual "partybangers", Esko brought up a good point: even if their music might not be revolutionary or even that hard to play/recreate, it's the show around it that makes it worthwhile. Jere himself said that no matter what you think of their music, the live performance is something everyone should see atleast once in their lives because it's so unique. I'd like to think the same about Jere's music in a way: even if a song like Paidaton Riehuja is just about taking your shirt off and going bananas, the way Jere performs it has so much energy packed into it that you can't help but love it. Same with ICIP, the lyrics might be incredibly basic, but the mv around it has such an insane story and visual side to it that you forget he's singing about parties 24/7. Sometimes music can just be fun and simple and pack a punch in the way it's performed either live or in a music video, it doesn't have to be the most profound thing at first listen.

Would I love some songs like Z, Alaks Olee or Online on the album? Absolutely. I think Jere is not only a good performer but also an incredible storyteller, and he can easily make a song like Alaks Olee again. Do I think his "partybangers" are any less cool just because they might lack in lyrical creativity? No I don't.

[heyiwrotesomethings]

OMFG I OPENED TUMBLR IN THE RIGHT TIME

can i ask a bit of slow burn with shinobu x they/them reader that is a musician as a lil side job when being a slayer is off for a day?

reader arrives in the butterfly mansion wounded and was disappointed that they have to rest their whole arms for months so no music for that, due to having a giant passion for music they offered to teach the 3 girls how to play an instrument with shinobu's consent

in months of recovery a lot of improvements are noticed in the 3 girls music abilities, reader offers some little lesson sessions on shinobu if she's free, somehow like a routine of them is hangout in the morning and check their arms if it's okay to use them atleast to play an instrument

in the night where shinobu decided to rest in her roof she spots reader playing a song that she mentioned she liked to listen to, and so there's a bit of serenading moment

soon after the recovery of the arms and before leaving, reader confessed their feelings and gave shinobu an instrument they always use to remind her of them

your choice if you want to have a goodbye kiss THANK YOUUUUUUU HAVE A GREAT DAYYYY

Virtuoso

Shinobu Kochou x They/Them Reader

A/N: It was fun to look up different instruments for this. Sorry there isn’t a lot of in depth teaching. The most music experience I have is fumbling my way around an alto saxophone throughout middle school. Hope you like it! Word Count: 3,226

(Y/n) regained consciousness slowly, finding it difficult to do more than open their eyes for but a moment before falling back to sleep. When they were finally able to stay awake long enough to wonder where they were, their eyes roved aimlessly around the room, but they couldn’t see very much while laying almost completely flat on their back.

They went to hike themself upward on their elbows, but quickly found their arms were restrained. Angling their chin towards their chest, they saw that their arms were heavily bandaged and secured by a large sling across their stomach.

That’s right, they remembered, that demon had really gotten the better of them before the other slayers they had been traveling with stepped in. They remembered that the demon had gotten behind them, booted them to the ground, and bent their elbows in a way that elbows definitely should not be bent. The pain and the sound of it had been enough to blow them out like a candle.

They had the unfortunate suspicion that they wouldn’t be playing any instruments for awhile. Which was a shame, because they had just splurged on a beautifully crafted koto. Well, at least they survived somehow. They’d get to play it eventually, hopefully. Maybe they could use their feet? That could be an interesting challenge.

“Someone appears to finally be awake and very deep in thought.”

(Y/n)’s eyes snapped to the person casting a shadow over them that they had only just noticed. Though they had never personally had the honor of meeting before, (Y/n) knew exactly who it was based on the tales of other slayers.

“Oh, Kochou-sama, hello!” (Y/n) greeted, surprisingly chipper given their current state, “Sorry, I was just wondering if I could comfortably wear finger picks on my toes… You probably didn’t need to know that.”

Shinobu hummed a sound like a muted giggle and (Y/n) bit the inside of their cheek. She was every bit a ethereal in person as the stories described. (Y/n) could probably write a billion compositions about her and have not one be the same. Their fingers itched to pick at their koto or shamisen or biwa or… they could go on for awhile.

Their collection was quite extensive. It was a good thing demon slaying paid well or they would have probably starved. The closest they came to being in trouble financially was probably when they procured their prized piano from Italy last year. Money was tight for a while after that purchase. So again, it was a shame that their arms were in such a state when there were so many instruments to play and maintain.

“Exactly how long will I be restricted like this?” They asked.

Shinobu gave a sympathetic smile as she opened the drawer beside (Y/n)’s cot, “It will take months of healing and physical therapy, unfortunately. However, since we were able to operate on you quickly and successfully, your recovery will go much smoother.”

“That’s a relief to hear, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Shinobu smiled, she did so appreciate polite patients, and since they would be spending so much time together for the foreseeable future, it made her appreciate it all the more.

She turned to look over to Sumi, Kiyo and Naho who were busying themselves with changing the sheets on newly vacated cots, “Girls, help (L/n)-san sit up while I prepare their prescriptions.”

“Okay.”

“Right away!”

“Be right there, Shinobu-sama!”

Soon (Y/n) found themself surrounded by the three young girls. Carefully they brought up the cot and sat (Y/n) up.

“Thank you, that feels a lot better.” (Y/n) smiled sincerely, pleasing the young girls with their kindness.

“These girls are Sumi, Kiyo and Naho,” Shinobu shared, gently laying a hand on each girl’s head as she went down the line, “They will take care of most of your day to day regimens that don’t require my presence. They are very good at their jobs so do not hesitate to share any concerns with them.”

“Okay,” (Y/n) promised, tipping their head to the younger girls, “Thank you for your hard work.”

The girls glowed under the praise then scattered in a flurry of cheerful giggles to continue their tasks.

Shinobu chuckled quietly, turning her eyes back on (Y/n),

“This purple bottle contains sleeping pills, the green bottle is pain medication. You may take one of each as you need, but there is a mandatory six hour waiting period between dosages. I can give you both or one now if you’d like, otherwise I’ll just turn them over to Kiyo to store until you need them.”

“The pain medication would be helpful I think. Thank you.” (Y/n) figured they had slept plenty for the time being.

“Ever so polite,” Shinobu lightly teased, readying a pill and a cup of water. She poked (Y/n)’s lip with the pill, willing them to open their mouth so she could slip it in and quickly press the cup to their lips before the pill’s casing could dissolve on their tongue.

“Thank… you,” (Y/n) sighed, knowing they were probably being excessively thankful, but they couldn’t help it. Shinobu was so nice. They let Shinobu’s amused chuckle wash over them.

“Well, I must be going now. Take care (L/n)-san, many slayers tend to get antsy when they’re on leave for so long, but it is in your best interest to stay put, alright?”

“I will be on my best behavior, promise.” (Y/n) swore.

“Good.” Shinobu straightened the blanket that laid across their waist, gave their knee a swift pat, then went on her way.

(Y/n) sunk further back into the raised cot. Shinobu really was awesome, wasn’t she? Their fingers twitched beneath their bindings. What they wouldn’t give to play around with any number of their instruments right now. Practically everything they owned required use of arms and fingers. Even if they had only one arm at their disposal, they could have probably managed.

They did invest a stupid amount of money to ship in a kazoo to add to their collection, but something told them that if they were going to play it for the next several weeks, injuries be damned one of their fellow patients would leap into their cot and choke them with the noisy piece of plastic.

“(L/n)-san?”

“Hm?” (Y/n) blinked, Naho coming into focus beside their cot.

“Are you hungry?”

(Y/n) lit up. They could definitely eat something and they told Naho as much, excitement evident.

As they ate, Sumi went over what their daily exercises would consist of for the next couple weeks before they could allow more arm freedom and movement. Mostly it would be a lot of leg work and back stretches to keep them strong and malleable.

(Y/n) listened and asked questions as needed. It seemed like they would have a lot to do, hopefully it would keep them busy enough to keep their mind off of music for at least until they had arms to play with again.

***

It was just too painful.

(Y/n) sighed for the millionth time that morning, tapping their toes rhythmically against the metal bar at the ends of the bed.

It had only been a week and they were dying to play something. That kazoo was looking very good right now, choking hazard be damned.

The girls seemed to notice their discontent, but they assured them there was no issue. Just a little restlessness was all. A restlessness that had them envisioning every pluck of a string, strike of a drum, and current of air that went in to composing their favorite pieces.

It was maddening, almost torturous. Even Shinobu noticed how fidgety they seemed to be when she next came by to check in, slowly, yet firmly, pressed a hand to (Y/n)’s incessantly tapping feet, making them stop.

“Have the ants started taking over already?” She had teased once she finally caught their attention.

“Yeah,” (Y/n) answered sheepishly, “I’m really wishing I had gotten my legs broken instead.”

“You would be stuck here longer if that were the case. Leg bones take longer to heal, usually.” Shinobu informed, taking the chair beside (Y/n)’s cot, “Though I suppose there are more things that could keep your hands busy than your feet.”

They had a nice conversation about hobbies as Shinobu checked (Y/n)’s progress. Once (Y/n) mentioned their affinity for music, they couldn’t stop taking about it. They had just finished sharing their top five favorite wind instruments when they realized Shinobu hadn’t said anything in awhile and they got a little self-conscious, apologizing for their overzealous sharing.

Shinobu assured them there was no problem. She was thoroughly entertained and charmed by their passion. She also quite enjoyed music and the arts in general, but rarely had the time to enjoy such pursuits. That was when (Y/n) got an idea.

“Kochou-san,” they asked, “if it is alright with you, perhaps I could teach Naho, Sumi and Kiyo to play an instrument? I promise I won’t let it interfere with their duties, just something to work on in their leisure if they’d like.”

Shinobu hummed in thought. It would be nice to hear music softly playing throughout the halls from time to time. Patients also benefited from such gentle stimulation. On another note, far be it from her to deny the young girls a well-rounded education.

“If any of the girls want to play, you have my blessing to teach them. Though we don’t exactly have any instruments on hand. What we do have are so old they are strictly display only.”

“I’d love to see them sometime.” (Y/n) glowed.

“Perhaps when you’re more mobile, that can be arranged.” Shinobu smiled.

“Wonderful! Now, don’t worry about the instruments. I have a bunch at my house, depending on what they want to play, I could supply them each one of their own so they can practice at the same time.”

“How convenient,” Shinobu marveled cheerfully, “what instruments do you have exactly?”

“Um,” (Y/n) let out a nervous laugh, “it might be easier to ask me what instruments I don’t have.”

***

Shinobu had provided (Y/n) with a small group of Kakushi at their disposal to collect an array of instruments from their house. When they came back, (Y/n) was almost worried they had gone overboard with their requests as instrument upon instrument was brought in. They made sure to thank the group copiously for their patience and care.

When Sumi, Kiyo and Naho came in, their faces lit up. (Y/n) eagerly motioned for them to browse the collection and try whatever caught their eye. They shared all they knew about each instrument the girls’ hands touched. After much deliberation, they made their choices with the assurance that they could change their mind whenever they wished.

(Y/n) felt a familiar twitch in their fingers. They wished they could pick something up as well, but for now they would live vicariously through their new pupils as they taught them all they knew.

They started out with teaching them how to read music. It was cute how the girls seemed to pout. They wanted to begin playing right away. (Y/n) could understand the impatience. They were much the same when they first started. Then came the scales, finding out what button or chord corresponded with what note. Then simple songs that gradually grew in complexity as weeks became months.

“They’re so bright and talented and very hardworking.” (Y/n) had told Shinobu when she had come by to observe one day.

“It helps that they have such a good teacher.” Shinobu praised, making (Y/n)’s face feel warm, “I find myself a little envious, actually. Perhaps I should have carved out some time to join in on a few lessons.”

“I’d still be happy to teach you if you’d like. Even when I’m gone, I’m sure the girls could help pick up where I left off.”

“Oh I don’t know… careful, (L/n)-san,” Shinobu warned.

Though Shinobu had allowed the removal of (Y/n)’s casts, their arms were still tender and weak from disuse. Any heavy lifting was very ill advised.

“I’m careful, I’m careful,” They assured, picking up a small, rectangular device. Carved wood endowed with an array of keys and a couple thin strings visible towards the end, “This is a Taishogoto. It may look a little complicated, but I’m sure you’ll pick it up right away.”

“So much faith,” Shinobu chuckled, “We haven’t even started yet.”

“No time like the present!” (Y/n) grinned, presenting the instrument to Shinobu.

Shinobu smiled softly, taking the Taishogoto into her hands with great care and joining (Y/n) on the edge of their cot, she listened contently as they rambled on about the instrument’s short history.

“Will you play something for me first? I’d rather hear how it’s supposed to sound before I poison my perception with my own ineptitude.”

“I’m sure you won’t be that bad,” (Y/n) scoffed, “but I’m always happy to play for you.”

It was true, as soon as Shinobu allowed them to move more freely, they picked up a nearby biwa to play a quick tune as thanks. Their movements were a little less refined, and the callouses on their finger tips had unfortunately smoothed out a bit, but they promised they’d practice to make up for lost time and play for Shinobu when they were back at their best before they left. One song became two, three and so on until Shinobu had to go, but she did often stop by when she found herself with some free time.

(Y/n) enjoyed playing for Shinobu, but it was so exciting to teach her as well, and they had the added benefit to actually use their hands to show Shinobu how everything worked, a luxury they had not had when teaching the younger girls. Their hands happened to bump and brush a lot though, and it made (Y/n)’s heart stutter every time.

***

(Y/n) knew their time was nearly up. They would be officially discharged from the infirmary the next morning and there was much to get in order before then. The Kakushi had been gracious enough to take all of their instruments back home for them earlier that morning, with the exception of four, of course.

Sumi, Kiyo and Naho had been easy enough to find. When (Y/n) presented them with the instruments to keep, they had swarmed them and hugged them tightly, thanking them repeatedly and with enthusiasm. They gave their teacher an impromptu concert of all their favorite songs that they had learned over the last few months. It was a sweet sentiment, one that (Y/n) would not soon forget. If nothing else they had made a favorable impression on the girls as much as they had left an impression on them.

Now if only they could find Shinobu.

They had asked the girls about where she was, if it would be okay to see her for a few minutes if she wasn’t too busy, but the girls informed them that Shinobu was out on Hashira business and probably wouldn’t be home until late in the night or early morning.

But that was okay, they could wait, and so they did. They went about their day as normal and when the sun began to set, they staked their claim on a stretch of the engawa and waited for Shinobu to appear in the distance.

The sun sank lower and lower out of sight, soon replaced by a vivid waxing moon. The stars were dampened a bit from the warm light flooding out of the mansion, but it was still quite visibly a beautifully clear night sky. The weather was comfortable too, but even if it wasn’t, (Y/n) wouldn’t have minded the wait.

Though as portions of the mansion went dark and most sound seemed to cease, they began absently tapping the keys of the Taishogoto.

“Well, a little more practice wouldn’t hurt.” They murmured.

They took the pick between their fingers, plucking the string and tapping the keys to make sure it was all still in tune from when they last checked only hours ago. Then, they began playing a song, an almost haunting melody that Shinobu had once mentioned in passing to be her favorite. They would happily learn to play the song on every instrument the world had to offer if Shinobu asked for it.

They were beginning a fourth go at it when the air shifted around them. Looking to their side, Shinobu was there as if she’d been there all along, startlingly close.

“Ah!” (Y/n) flinched from the surprise, “When did you get home?”

“Were you waiting for me by chance, (L/n)-san?” Shinobu chuckled, not letting (Y/n) squirm for too long before continuing on, “I rarely come in through the front. Often times when I come back I don’t have a moment to breathe before I return to my duties here,” she leaned in and began to whisper, “don’t tell a soul, but I usually hop up on the roof for an hour or two to have some time to myself and reflect or just think of nothing at all. Do you think that’s wrong of me?”

“Of course not,” (Y/n) swore, “you do a lot of demanding and important work. You deserve time to yourself. I haven’t been disturbing you have I? Is that why you came down?”

“It is a welcome distraction. I wanted to get closer so I could hear it better. Do you mind?”

“Not at all.” (Y/n) smiled, busying themself with the keys, but not yet playing.

“I uh, I was actually waiting for you to come back so I could play this for you so this is perfect. I hope you like it.”

“I’m sure I will.”

(Y/n) picked up the song from the beginning and Shinobu closed her eyes to listen along, resting her cheek over her interwoven fingers.

When the final note disappeared on the breeze, it was peacefully quiet for a long moment. (Y/n) took in a lungful of the flowery sweet air, and turned to face Shinobu, holding out the Taishogoto to her.

“I have really enjoyed getting to know you over the last few months, Kochou-san. So much so, that I’m afraid I’ve fallen for you. If it will not burden you, even if you don’t return my feelings, I would like you keep this to remember me by and as one last show of gratitude for all that you did for me.”

Shinobu seemed to be frozen for a few moments. Starting to get cold feet, (Y/n) began to pull away, apologies already in the tip of their tongue, but then Shinobu put her hands over theirs, keeping them in place between their bodies.

“I will treasure it always,” she promised sincerely.

That would have been enough for (Y/n), but then Shinobu leaned closer still until her lips pressed tenderly into the side of (Y/n)’s face. They were almost too buzzed from the affectionate gesture to comprehend what Shinobu said next as she sat upright once more.

“I expect you back at least five days out of every month. Someone will need to keep the girls sharp and their skills,” she stood up with a small, almost sly smile, “and someone will need to join me on the rooftops for another midnight serenade or two.”

(Y/n)’s heart swelled.

“I can’t imagine anything I’d rather do more.”