#but then again probably a lot of these kids are recording on their phones???

[faintlyof]

Oh ew, I just noticed that the the -whole- bar that has a persons url in it in reblogs now takes you to their page. and also the whole thing highlights on hover.

was clicking/tapping the letters too difficult? like now im going to accidentally be opening randos blogs up constantly. which also, yeah, if im clicking on the persons blog from within the reblog, i want to see the POST on THEIR blog, im not here to fuck around and scroll back for 20 years trying to find it just because i need to cut someone out of the reblog chain before i send it to a friend???

and if i get to the post and then want to see their blog, easy. click home or whatever theyve called their main page or whatever

but like ive already accidentally opened like 5 different blogs and its been like 2 minutes,im tired

[ode2rin]

1 | ANYONE BUT YOU .ೃ

summary. as lines get blurred, hearts get flustered, and a scheme ensues, your brother's best friend suddenly seems way more interesting than he used to be.

content/warnings. 5k+ wc (part 1/3) reader has little to no college friends | reader hates kaiser's guts | PROTECTIVE kaiser lol | | pet names (dollface) & a lot of profanity (it's kaiser) | minimal proofread

💭 masterlist | next part

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can go with you anymore.”

Your ears were ringing.

After the words hung over the line, a heavy silence descended, punctuated only by the dull thud of your heartbeat echoing in your ears. The phone line seemed to distort, and the world beyond reduced to a distant murmur as a disorienting ringing filled your ears. Yet, despite the shock rippling through, you managed to maintain a facade.

“Ah, I see. It’s no problem. See you around!” Your chirped voice made you cringe internally, but it was a better front than sounding like a defeated kid whose mom said no over a piece of candy at a grocery store.

Before he could say anything else, you clicked the end button faster than he could spew some tacky excuse. Throwing your phone to the side, you settled onto your bed, lying on your back, staring at the uninteresting ceiling of your room.

Sure, it was no problem at all— the music festival was just six hours away, and your date had just canceled on you over the phone. It’s no big deal facing your college blockmates without a companion as initially planned, and it’s totally not a problem that you will most likely be a third– hell, a seventh wheel, actually, and have them talk behind your back – speculating about why you're going alone or if you were just making it up that you had someone to bring.

Yes, it’s not a fucking problem at all.

You don’t even like the artist lineup, anyway (maybe you’re mildly interested with one band that’s attending).  You wouldn’t bother if you weren’t just a sophomore still trying to find a group of friends you can call your own. It's embarrassing enough that freshmen even had it better than you. It’s not a race, for sure, but in college– the truth lies blatant that support systems help. A lesson you learned the hardest way.

“Y/N? Are you in there?” Three soft knocks on your door and a muffled voice, surely coming from your older brother, interrupted your pity party.

“Yes. Come in,” you confirmed. The door creaked open, revealing a mop of magenta hair leaning over your door frame.

“There’s food downstairs. We ordered your favorite.”

“We?”

“Kaiser is downstairs.”

Of course, he is. 

Your brother’s best friend must have really taken it to heart when your mom told him he can treat your family as his own. Too deep into his heart, if you could comment. You see him around the house more than you see your parents, and if that wasn’t tiresome enough, he’s literally a damn superstar in your university. Every corner, every room, in halls and library, everyone can’t seem to be over his name like a broken record.

You wouldn’t be this annoyed, hostile even, if said man was just as nice as your brother. But instead, he was far by the most obnoxious, foul-mouthed, arrogant prick you’ve ever known. Alexis should have never kicked some ball with that conceited oaf a decade ago. Life would have been so much better. But no— reality is, the bane of your existence in the form of blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, is in your house’s kitchen, probably gulping down your favorite drinks in the fridge. 

If you can’t seem to have friends, your older brother seems to be goddamn bad at picking his.

“Hey, dollface. Missed me?” Speak of the damn devil and he shall appear.

The first thing you’re met with after coming down is a sight of Michael Kaiser, sitting high and comfortably on one of the counter’s bar stools. Your gaze trails down to his hand where you see a peek of his crown tattoo— and would you look at that? He’s holding a can of your Coke Zero.

“Oh, so that’s why my life was going sideways again,” you feigned a sigh in disappointment, making sure it was loud enough for him to hear, “because you’re back.”

In your unwanted years of knowing this guy, you’ve soon realized that none of your words, no matter how sharp or snarky they get, would ever faze him. Evidence would be how he just openly chuckled at your remark. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. I missed you and your smart mouth, too. Don’t worry.”

“Trust me, worry is not in the list of emotions I would ever feel for you.”

“Well, does attraction make it to the list?”

Years ago, perhaps it would have. Not that he needs to know—no chance. Your silly childhood crush on him was your deepest, darkest mistake. You might be overdramatic, but this was Michael Kaiser, and god, you would rather get caught having feelings for anyone but him.

Rolling your eyes at him, you sneer, “You wish.”

“Oh, trust me, I do wish,” he mocks your tone.

“Fuck off.” 

“That won’t get rid of me, I’m afraid,” he shrugs before winking at you. You shook your head in annoyance.

You took the seat across from him and settled. You were about to lean to reach the box of pizza at the other end of the countertop, when Kaiser reached for it first and placed it in front of you.

You turned to look at him, half expecting a smirk or yet another wink from the blonde, but instead, he was preoccupied browsing on his phone as if his body moved on its own to attend to you.

You shrugged off the weird occurrence and turned all attention to the pizza and its heavenly scent sipping through the gaps of its box, just in time for Alexis to take the seat next to his best friend. You drowned the noise of their conversation as they started talking about last away games.

Your brother and Kaiser had been the most valuable players of your university’s soccer team for as long as you’ve remembered. They were two years older, so by the time you entered university, they were already making big names in the field. Rumors had it that there were already offers lining up at their feet.

If you come to think of it, it wouldn’t be this hard making friends if you would just be vocal about being Alexis Ness’ younger sibling, but the limelight and pretentious popularity it came with was something you wouldn’t wish upon yourself. You wanted real and genuine friends, not people who wanted to be around you because it was a step closer to your brother and his best friend.

Like earlier, Alexis’ voice came reaching your eardrums, snapping you out of your thoughts. After hearing what he had to ask, though, you wished you had a way to physically block out his words.

“Are you not going to get ready for the festival?” your brother asked, meanwhile, his dear friend seemed to take great interest in what you’re about to say as both of them peered over you.

“Not going anymore,” you said, as nonchalant as you could to play pretend.

“Why? You’ve been looking forward to it the whole week.”

Heat crept into your ears and cheeks as embarrassment filled you. Sure, you might not be prancing around being all excited about it, but if your brother was able to notice it, your enthusiasm must have been evident then. God, you felt like an utter fool now.

“It got canceled,” you looked away from them.

Alexis looked at you with furrowed brows, “What do you mean? It’s not–”

“My date canceled on me. I’m not going anymore to save face and not make a fool out of myself. There, happy?” you snapped.

Before you could even feel the guilt from bursting out unprovoked to your brother, you swiftly got up from the stool heading back to your room, leaving the two of them in the kitchen looking concerned contrarily. One with worried eyes glancing at your room hesitantly, and the other one with a clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.

It seemed everyone was testing your patience today, as for the second time, your ears rang—not from a last-minute cancellation this time, but from the persistent sound of your ringing phone.

Your heavy eyes fluttered open, weighed down by the sleep from your ignoring-the-world nap after the exchange with your supposed date and your brother. Disoriented and groggy, you reached out, fingers fumbling to check the caller deserving of your unrelenting fury.

Kaiser, the screen read, and suddenly, the urge to throw your phone at the nearest wall almost overwhelmed your senses.

But you answered the call anyway, because logic says that he was still your brother’s closest, and sometimes, that warranted a call that might be about him.

��I swear to god this better be important–”

“Get ready,” he interrupted.

“What?”

“Look out your window.”

Groaning, you rose to your feet, moving your drapes aside to see what awaited outside.

Outside your house’s gates, a midnight blue sports car, all too familiar, was parked across the driveway. Its owner leaned lazily over its door, one hand in his pocket while the other held his phone pressed to his ear, looking right back at you with that shit-eating grin.

“What the hell are you on?” you muttered into the phone.

You instantly closed the drapes after meeting eyes with him.

It’s infuriating—He’s infuriating. But damn, does he look good when he smiles like that. And it’s not helping your case that he was clad in loose-fitting denim pants and a black shirt, sufficiently showcasing both his tattoo and his lean yet toned build.

It’s sorcery how he makes simple and ordinary clothing look like it was screaming high-end and luxury. Only he can do that, you admit.

“As I said, get ready,” he repeated over the phone, “We only have less than two hours before your music festival or something starts.”

He’s taking me to it? “Why?”

Only one word in response, yet the two of you understood what you’re pertaining to. Silence filled the line for a moment before you heard a subtle click of his tongue.

“Because you look ugly when you sulk,” and he hung up.

You should be irritated at him hanging up abruptly and calling you ugly, but for some reason you don’t know, it puts a smile on your face. 

The first one today.

Kaiser wishes he had a bigger car— which one would deem ridiculous, given that his car could easily match the price of two or even three minivans.

But if it meant having you sit not so close that your scent infiltrates his senses beyond his sound judgment, he’d gladly trade his lambo for a minivan any day.

You were intoxicating— not akin to the grip of liquor, because it would be inadequate in comparison. But rather intoxicating in the same way as the irresistible magnetism that beckons a madman to its vices.

And he must be really mad because you weren’t even sitting shoulder-to-shoulder close to him. You’re sitting comfortably at the passenger seat, a good distance in between, and yet he acts like a raging teenager who got locked up with his crush in the utility room. It is absolutely embarrassing, even for someone like him.

“Did Alexis ask you to do this?” you suddenly inquired, your gaze fixed on your side of the car.

Thank heavens you broke the silence first, because who knows what ungodly phrases he would come up with in an attempt of small talk with you?

“No. Though I bet he would have taken you himself,” he snorted, of course your brother would, “If our coach weren’t so pissed at him these days.”

Ah, so that explained why you hadn't seen Alexis around the house before hopping into Kaiser's car.

Momentarily, you turned to him. It was so swift that he might have missed it if he wasn’t so hyper aware of your every move in this damn confined space. “Is he in trouble?” you inquired to the blonde, your voice concerned and hesitant.

“Nothing you have to worry about, doll.”

“Stop with the nicknames,” you hissed, attempting to intimidate. 

Unfazed, he countered with a cheeky “Make me,” under his breath. His smirk practically audible, even without you glancing his way.

Silence overtook between the two of you once more. You fixated on the road ahead, noting the nearing destination as the glow of the festival stage lights peeked into view.

It’s your chance— your chance to release the words that have lingered at the edge of your tongue since he urged you to get ready almost an hour ago. You stole a glance at the man driving beside you. His eyes focused on the road, his left hand steady on the steering wheel while his timepiece-adorned hand rested comfortably on the gearshift. In another frame of mind, you might have found yourself lost in the rhythm of his long, slender fingers tapping against it. You snapped out of it before he could point it out.

You stole one last glance before turning away to whisper, “Thank you… Kaiser.”

Instead of saying welcome like a polite person would, your companion would of course, choose to say something as, “You owe me something now.”

Of course, you thought. Mentally rolling your eyes, you ask, resigning to his antics, “What do you want?” 

“Call me by my name.”

“Did you not hear? I said, thank you Kai–”

“The one you used to call me.”

Mikka.

It was a silly nickname you gave him– back when Alexis first brought him home for snacks nearly ten years ago. He and Alexis were eleven, and you were barely nine.

You remembered the blonde kid, all sweaty in his mud-stained clothes, clutching a worn-out ball by his hip, his gaze fixed on you with curiosity. “This is Kaiser,” your brother introduced, but the blonde stranger approached you, extending his hand.

“I’m Michael.”

“That’s… long.”

“What?”

“Your name– it’s long,” you echoed, looking up at him, “can I call you ‘Mikka’?”

“What?” Kaiser’s deep voice sliced through your reminiscence. “You had no problem calling me that before,” he pointed out.

“That’s before you beat up the boy you knew I like,” you scoffed at him, a familiar pettiness clouding your mind.

He chuckled at your retort, seemingly lost in his own memories. “Beat him up on the soccer field, you mean,” he corrected, though he wouldn’t particularly mind if it were an actual fight.

“Same thing.”

“Oh, come on! It was highschool!”

“Your point?” you countered.

“He was a snotface, anyway.” he rationalized.

“He was nice to me!”

“I suggest you rather get a dog instead— if nice is all you need. I heard dogs are fun to be around,” he sneered, “What do you think of pomeranians?”

You brushed off his question, preferring the depths of silence over the hypothetical responsibility of tending to a pup that bore more than a passing resemblance to him, both in appearance and, perhaps, in demeanor.

“I knew agreeing to come here with you was a mistake,” you sighed, exasperation lacing your words.

Surprisingly, Kaiser offered no retort. Taking his silence as a cue for your own, you settled into quietness, hoping for a peaceful remainder of the drive. Minutes drifted by until Kaiser broke the stillness with a whisper loud enough for you to catch.

“He was a slimy jerk,” he began, pausing as if hinting his careful choice of words, “and he was nice to you because he was trying to get into your pants.”

“How did you know?” you asked, meek and shy, fumbling with your fingers in your lap.  Seeking love advice and opinions from none other than the mighty Kaiser seemed absurd, but maybe, wisdom might sometimes fare well with age.

“Trust me when I say I know how boys can be,” he scoffed, a displeased furrow settling in his brows. “He wasn't the gentleman you thought he was.”

“And you? Are you a gentleman?”

Before you could stop your thoughts from escaping your rebellious mouth, the words spilled out like water through a breached dam. The lack of response from him compelled you to chew on your lip and fix your gaze on the road, refusing to spare even a glance his way, despite feeling his stare burning into the side of your face.

Meanwhile, Kaiser was aware he might be staring too long at your side for someone controlling a vehicle, but he couldn't help it. Not when you caught him off guard with a simple question, and especially not when you were trying so hard to avoid looking at him, your discomfort palpable in the air. You looked so cute—it made his mouth twitch.

Staring ahead at the road, he contemplated your question, needing no more than a minute to reach his conclusion.

When a man looks at his best friend's younger sibling in a way he shouldn’t, he’s not deserving of the title “gentleman.”

He was far from it, he concluded. With one last glance thrown your way before bringing the car to a full stop, he muttered in an uncharacteristically soft tone.

“Especially not one, doll.”

“Y/N! Over here!” a familiar voice cut through the cacophony, prompting you to scan the crowd until you finally spotted them.

Relief flooded over you at the sight of a familiar face amidst the crowd. Checking your phone had proven to be a wise decision; otherwise, you might have spent the night searching aimlessly through the vast expanse of the venue.

The venue stretched out before you was a kaleidoscope of sights and sounds that danced upon the senses. Laughter and chatter mingled with applause and the occasional roar of approval as performers graced the stage. 

Everywhere you looked there was movement and so much life. Yet amidst the bustling crowd and pulsating music, one figure occupied your thoughts more than anything else.

Kaiser's towering 6-foot frame loomed behind you, his broad shoulders carving a path of confidence through the crowd. He stood behind you like an immovable rock amidst a rushing river. And if your senses weren't deceiving you, you swore you felt the occasional brush of his hand against the small of your back, gently guiding you forward.

He was so close behind you that his breath on your nape soaked into your skin like ointment— warm to the touch, yet icy on your spine.

“Where's your date?” one of your blockmates inquired after the initial pleasantries were exchanged.

The question lingered, and suddenly, all eyes were on you. Mentally counting heads, you realized you were really on track to be the seventh wheel if you attended without a companion. Speaking of companions— you turned behind you with the intention of introducing Kaiser (not that they didn’t know him already), but your intention faltered when you noticed the scowl on his face.

“I’m the date, if you couldn’t tell,” he interjected. 

From his vantage point, he observed the widening of your eyes at his declaration. Yet, when he didn’t hear any immediate retaliation from you, he flashed you— and everyone else watching— a lopsided smirk. He sensed your blockmates’ curiosity lingering, some perhaps wondering if he was truly dating you. But none of them dared to probe further—maybe because he wasn't exactly the approachable type.

After a few murmurs of ‘oh’ and ‘really’ from your blockmates, they returned their attention to the stage, where the next performer was beginning their pre-performance monologue.

You, on the other hand, look like you were out for his blood from how you’re glaring at him. “Are you out of your mind?” you hissed under your breath, just loud enough for him to hear.

Yes. Perhaps he was. Irrationality had seized him upon hearing the question. After all, he was there with you, visible for all to see. Did they not see him? Did he look like a fucking chair to those people? Common sense must be a luxury these days, given its absence in this situation.

Yet, a small voice of reason within him attempted to intervene, suggesting that the question might have stemmed from genuine curiosity.

As his best friend's younger sibling, seeing the two of you together wasn't an unusual occurrence for those who attend the same university. They likely concluded that your presence with him at the music festival was simply a matter of normal friendship (which it was, but they don’t have to know that, nor does he desire for these extras to reduce it to just that).

“I’m helping you save face like you said earlier,” he tells you, still wearing that annoying smirk.

“How does telling them you’re my date help me save face?” If anything, you'd be hiding on campus after his stunt. You could only hope words won’t travel fast.

“Would you rather I tell them I'm chaperoning you because some jerk canceled on you?”

Your words stalled at the base of your throat, unable to counter his remark. That shut you up, much to your chagrin. He was right.

“Yeah. That’s what I thought,” he quipped, grinning at your silence. “Come closer, there’s a lot of people.”

You huffed in irritation and decided to ignore him behind you, determined to make the most of your experience here. You’d let this slide for now. After all, he was here because of you.

But it wasn’t too long before you realized that ignoring him would be as futile as trying to pluck roses without being pricked by the thorns. You knew very well that this man thrives in getting under people’s skin.

“You should be flattered.”

Genuinely appalled, you ask, “I’m sorry?”

“Accepted.”

If it wasn’t night time and the blaring lights were replaced by the sun, he could have seen the twitch that your eye did at his retort.

At this point, murder is a tempting option. Sure, he’s taller and much bigger in physique terms, but you have the rage for it. Just one more insufferable antic—one more word— from this man and the whole university will be mourning their star player’s demise first thing tomorrow morning. 

You took a deep breath to calm your murderous nerves, “Is that so? What part of telling people— oh wait, our schoolmates who are probably whispering behind our backs— that you’re my date, is flattering to you?”

The asshole had the audacity to shrug, “Calling me yours was.”

“Well then, you should be flattered. Not me.”

“You don’t know how flattered I am to be yours,” he mused.

If you didn’t know any better, his attempt at flirting might have sent warmth to your cheeks. But this was Kaiser— no one can tell when he’s being serious or just being his usual menace self talking shit like he’s employed to do so. Good thing you had better plans than spend it on his guessing games.

Just when you’re about to berate him once more, words halted on your throat because of a sight you least expected to see.

Han— the guy you’ve been talking to for almost a month now. The same guy who was your supposed date, to be more specific.

“What? Cat got your tongue, doll?”

If cats come in the form of a familiar man who’s a few good meters away, clearly having the time of his life dancing with someone, and clearly showing no signs of unavailability to go to a music festival he asked you to, then yes, it got your tongue.

You stayed silent far too long for Kaiser’s patience. Your lack of snarky clapbacks were starting to unsettle him more than he would allow. Shifting closer to you, he followed your line of sight to see what got you stunned in silence.

Recognizing what, or rather who, got your attention, he turns to you, his voice coming out too indignant, “Do you know that guy?”

“Do you?” you counter, picking up on his tone being all too casual as if they’re acquainted. 

“He’s last week’s opposing team’s goalkeeper,” or was it ‘striker’? He couldn’t recall, so he’s more or less incompetent to him. One thing he remembers, however, “and he hates me.”

You threw him a glance, “Not surprised.”

“And do I give a fuck,” he shook his head, “Why do you keep looking at him?” Don’t fucking tell me.

Your answer wasn’t any better to what he was starting to imagine, “He was… supposed to be my date to this music festival,” you mumbled, looking down at your feet.

You didn’t want to see the look on Kaiser’s face, fearing you might see pity, and so you nailed your gaze to the ground. Totally oblivious of the man peering over you rather softly.

“Why can’t he then?” he asks, voice an octave lower.

“He said they had late notice training, so he can’t come.” 

“Well, that better be his fucking ghost yapping with a brunette then,” he scoffs, looking straight to the lying man who canceled on you.

Sick of his face and sloppy dance moves, Kaiser turned his gaze back at you, only to be filled with rage because of it.

You look sad— and it made his blood boil. Not towards you, but for you.

“Y’know what? Let’s go there,” he urged, head pointing at where Han was.

Is he fucking crazy? You immediately shook your head at his scandalous suggestion. You might be feeling a little betrayed and angry, but rationality still had its hold on you— and it’s saying to not let Kaiser go with his idea. 

Instead, you tug on his forearm, eyes still on the floor before looking up at him, “Can we leave, please?” 

Kaiser was taken aback by your sudden meekness. He wasn’t used to this— to you, being all deflated and zoned out. He was used to your deadpan expressions and your eyes that seem to roll every time he utters a single word. He was used to you being, dare he say, feisty. 

And he would rather have you stay like that all day long, even when he’s the receiving end of it.

But this? You, saying please to him, of all people? He doesn’t like it. 

If this is how he gets to make you say please, then he doesn’t want it. Fuck that, and fuck that guy. How dare he.

Kaiser didn’t say anything back at your request, but you felt big calloused hands grasp on your hand still resting on his forearm. The next thing you knew, you were walking with him, shoulder-to-shoulder while his other hand was on yours guiding you to walk out of the scene.

“If I see one—just one drop of tear, I swear I am turning this damn car around.” 

Your thoughts abruptly halted at the sound of Kaiser’s threat—his ultimatum, rather. It sounded more like a promise than a threat, and you knew this man well enough to understand that he never ate his words.

You shot him a glance and snickered. There was no way in high hell you’d ever cry in the same space where he was. It was the last thing you’d ever do, even if it meant convincing yourself that what you saw earlier was just a mere look-alike of Han.

“It's nothing. We aren’t even a thing,” you dismissed, your voice flat.

“But you thought you could be,” he countered, and damn if he wasn't right. “How do you even know him?”

“We're kind of talking, well, sort of—”

“Kind of? Sort of?” he scoffed.

“God—it's like a talking stage or something casual, Kaiser! There, got it?”

“That's not exclusive,” he remarked, adding insult to injury.

Irritation bubbled in your throat as his interrogation continued. But even before you could unleash your venom, you caught yourself. He was right. And while this man had never brought you good, it wasn't fair to make him the target of your bad.

“Yeah, it's not,” you admitted, a dry, humorless laugh escaping you. You recalled the brunette he danced with earlier. “I wasn't exclusive material for his reputation, I guess.”

What reputation? “That’s bullshit.” He gritted his teeth, his hand itching towards the steering wheel, clearly tempted to turn back to the festival.

“You said it yourself, he’s an athlete,” you pointed out, “You people never like to go exclusive with someone.”

“You people? Oh, please. Do not insult me by comparing me to the likes of him.”

The sass in his voice drew a chuckle from you. It was amusing how he said it with genuine horror, as if the mere idea of being associated with Han was an insult. “Why? Are you telling me you can commit to someone exclusively?”

“Someone like who? You?” He met your gaze briefly, “Absolutely.”

What the hell. “Stop messing around,” you snorted, effectively ending the conversation.

He was playing a dangerous game, saying that to you. Did he even realize what it did? Did he hear your stupid heart hammering in your chest? It was too loud, too obvious, a frantic drum solo against your ribs. 

And the realization settled— he made your heart flutter. 

His words, so simple, so casually tossed out, had landed like a bomb, sending shrapnel through your carefully constructed walls.

Michael Kaiser, of all people, made your heart flutter.

Suddenly, the air felt thin, the car an echo chamber amplifying the frantic rhythm of your traitorous heart. You knew you should scoff, dismiss it as another one of his infuriating jabs, but the truth was like a hot coal lodged in your throat.

“I’m not though,” he countered, eyes steady on the familiar road ahead. He sounded serious– too serious. 

As you were about to retort back, the car lurched to a stop, announcing your arrival. You glanced out the window, the familiar sight of your house doing little to ease the tension that had coiled tight in your stomach.

“We’re here,” Kaiser announced, his voice a low rumble.

Hurried and flustered by the unexpected shift in the conversation, your clammy hands fumbled with the buckle, the metal cold and unyielding against your sweaty palms. You tugged, then tugged again, frustration building with each failed attempt.

“Easy, doll.” 

Before you could protest, a large hand swooped in, effortlessly unlatching the buckle with a practiced flick. The sudden proximity sent a jolt through you, making your breath hitch. You met his gaze, his eyes a blazing blue as he held your stare for a beat too long before turning away.

Taking a deep breath, you composed yourself. You reached for the door handle, pushing it open and stepping out onto the familiar pavement. Before slamming the door shut, you paused, turning back to Kaiser with a newfound resolve.

Crouching down to meet his gaze, you surprised yourself with the words that tumbled out. “Be careful on your way home and,” you paused, “Thank you... Mikka.”

The nickname slipped out before you could stop it, leaving a blush blooming across your cheeks.

Before Kaiser could react, you slammed the door shut, the sound echoing in the quiet street. 

Mikka. He repeats your words in his mind.

He watched you disappear into your house, a slow grin spreading across his face. Only when you were safely inside did he start the car, the image of your flustered face lingering in his mind.

Damn it, doll.

Meanwhile, you hurried to your room, clutching your chest where your heart still hammered a frantic rhythm.

Why did I call him that? you asked yourself.

The use of his nickname, a name you rarely uttered now, was a stark reminder that the two of you weren’t as close as you were younger.

It’s not a big deal, you tried to reason with yourself. He literally said you owed it to him, and calling it quits would be in the form of a stupid nickname. It doesn’t mean anything. Right— you were just returning a favor.

Your obvious self-deception was interrupted by the incessant buzzing of your phone, tossed carelessly on the bed. Picking up your phone, you opened one of the notifications, your breath catching in your throat.

It was a post on your university's gossip page, and there, plastered on the screen, was a picture of you and Kaiser. 

The image froze a moment in time, capturing him standing protectively behind you, his arms caging you against a barricade. Panic clawed at your throat. This picture, out in the open, could be misconstrued in so many ways. 

What were people going to think? Who took this photo, anyway?

Your eyes darted down the comment section, scrolling through a sea of unimaginable speculations, desperately searching for clues about the culprit.

Just then, a knock on the door startled you.

“Y/N? Can I talk to you?”

It was your brother— and his voice suggested he needed answers too.

Shit.

note. first mini series lmao xD will add cw as i go!

[blushweddinggowns]

Now with Part 2!

Steve didn’t have the best track-record when it came to relationships. It’s not that he had a problem getting into them, he just had an issue staying in them. Or more accurately, getting someone to want to stay with him.

Nancy was the worst example of that by far, but even before her, there was a trend in Steve’s life. People broke up with him, not the other way around. And he knew why. Steve wasn’t stupid, or at least, not as stupid as people thought he was. He knew he was clingy, he knew he fell in love too fast, got intense too fast, he was painfully aware of the fact.

And he wasn’t going to go through it again. Robin had been the last straw, in both a good and a bad way. The romance aspect was obviously shot to shit immediately, but at the same time, she was the one person in his life, who wasn’t a literal child, that didn’t think he was too much. She was the one person who loved him back unconditionally, all of his clinginess and care one hundred percent accepted.

And Steve would take it. He got lucky enough to get someone to want to be in his life while knowing the real him, why push? A platonic soulmate was probably more than he deserved anyway. So Steve accepted the fact that this was it. Maybe down the line, he’d do what his parents did, get married for convenience instead of love. Have kids, the whole normal life shebang. But for now, he was happy to keep all that crap away from him.

But then came Eddie Munson.

Stupid, reckless, annoying, adorable Eddie Munson. Eddie Munson who almost died protecting Steve’s favorite child, Eddie Munson who had the prettiest eyes in the state of Indiana, Eddie Munson who ended up being the sweetest, funniest person Steve had ever met. Eddie Munson, who latched onto Steve with lightning fast speed, and made him feel like his life had fucking color again.

They became fast friends, half because experiencing hell together was a really great bonding experience, and half because Dustin refused to hang out with them separately now that their weird jealous feud was over. The little shit was obviously trying to play as a friend matchmaker, and it worked to Dustin’s delight.

Despite all their differences, Steve and Eddie just clicked. On the surface, they couldn’t be more different, but underneath it all, they were eerily similar. Both had shitty parents who hated them, both were fucking terrible at academics and would side-eye each other when one of their genius friends went on a smart person rant. They were both snarky shitheads who could make the other laugh like no tomorrow. They both wanted out of this shitty town, but were too afraid to leave their friends behind. And they just…liked each other. A lot.

Steve could, and had, spent hours talking to him on the phone, about anything and nothing. And as embarrassing as it was, falling asleep on there together was not a rare thing for either of them. Soon enough, they were almost attached at the hip. Even at work they couldn’t stay away from each other, either Eddie was loitering on the Family Video floor chatting up Steve, or Steve was impatiently waiting in Eddie’s passenger seat as he did a drug deal. And it was all so fun, just being with him. Steve kind of felt like he was on top of the world. 

But then it happened. He didn’t know how it happened, but it happened.

One second, they were on their way to the movie theater, arguing about what they were going to see, and the next Steve realized it. He stared at Eddie, still in the middle of his rant on how The Fly was going to be so much more memorable than Stand by Me.

An uncomfortably familiar feeling was building up inside him. Familiar but different, more intense than anything he could remember. But he still knew what it was. It was that horrible, fluttery feeling he had with Nancy, but worse. Because with Nancy, Steve had been trying, he had worked to impress her, had opened himself up on purpose to get his heart broken.

But with Eddie? It felt like he was taking a piece of Steve without permission. He hadn’t even thought about it when he opened up to him, he just did it. He never pretended with him, he was just his bitchy, overly attached self, and Eddie had never had a problem, if anything he encouraged it.

In hindsight, Steve had never had a chance.

He was in love with him. He was in love with him and he wanted to puke. He had Eddie take him straight home after that, with a half truth about feeling like shit. And then he had to wave him off from trying to take care of him, the ass. Like making Steve fall in love with him wasn’t enough, he had to genuinely care about him too? It just made him feel worse.

He had called Robin immediately, because what else could he do? He told her the whole shitty story, and like the angel she was, she talked him through it, sexuality crisis included. She made the argument that if he could fight demons with his bare hands, than he could more than handle being gay for one dude. Which...maybe wasn’t the most sound reasoning, but it worked.

They developed a system, Steve could whine and cry to Robin about his hopeless infatuation, and hang out with Eddie like nothing was wrong. And when Eddie eventually moved on with a girlfriend, Steve would just lock himself in his room for two weeks and cry like a loser until he got over it. It was a good plan, and he felt like he had everything under control.

Until he didn’t.

It was another Friday night, and Steve was always over at Eddie’s on Fridays. And Saturdays. And Sundays. And occasionally on Wednesday and Thursday. Almost always on Mondays and Tuesdays.

Okay, so he borderline just lived there when he wasn’t working, but so what? Eddie always seemed happy to see him, and Wayne didn’t mind. He was reading a comic on Eddie’s bed, while Eddie was fiddling with his guitar, staring into space.

“Hey Steve?”

“Hm?”

Eddie was quiet for a second, pausing before asking, “Why don’t you date girls anymore?”

Steve was only half-listening, still engrossed in what he was reading, “Don’t really have the time.”

“But you do have the time. Like…now is the time. You can tell me if I’m the one getting in the way of that.”

Steve shrugged, flipping the page, “You’re never in the way. I just like spending time with you more than random girls, y’know?”

He could hear Eddie put down his guitar to join Steve on the bed, his voice a little shaky, “Steve, if I ask you something that’s, uh, kinda out there, will you promise you won’t be mad?”

Steve rolled his eyes, impatient as he re-read the same part over again, "If it’s quick, I’m getting to the good part here dude.”

Eddie took a deep breath, voice soft as he asked, "Are you in love with me?”

Steve could feel his heart stop in his chest, and for a brief second, he couldn’t help but wonder if this is what a heart attack felt like. His head shot up, comic forgotten, eyes wide as he stared at Eddie’s questioning face. His mind was racing too fast to form a coherent thought. How did he figure it out? Was Steve that obvious? Was…was he mad? Would he be mad? Would he hate him? Call him a queer and kick him out of the trailer? By the time he thought of the simple answer to just deny it, he had already been staring at Eddie with his mouth hanging open for a full minute.

The window for believability was definitely closed on that front.

The whole thing felt unfair. He…he had tried this time. Really, really tried to not let his stupid feelings come into play, but here he was again, caught and about to get his heart smashed to a thousand pieces.

Eddie was still waiting for an answer, tense as he searched Steve’s face. Steve licked his lips, opening and closing his mouth like an idiot before managing to squeak out, “I’m sorry.”

Eddie was still staring at him, expression unreadable as he asked again, “So…you are?”

Steve looked away, staring back at his stupid comic book as he nodded, vision blurring. Christ, he was going to cry. Eddie was going to scream at him, or never talk to him again, or god forbid try to be understanding while shutting it down. He’d have to watch their relationship slowly dissolve while Eddie kept a healthy distance away, probably take the time to fall for some pretty girl who wasn’t a clingy and annoying fuck like Steve was.

He froze when he felt Eddie’s hand on his chin, forcing his head up to meet his eyes. This was it, the end of everything. He could barely fucking see with all the tears in his eyes, but then Eddie was wiping them away and he was…smiling at him?

“Thank God,” Eddie breathed, leaning in until their lips touched. They were kissing. Eddie Munson was kissing him. And even through his shock, Steve was damn sure kissing him back.

Eddie was trying to talk to him, pulling away to get a few words out before going right back in to press their mouths together, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

Steve was the one who had to pull away, as reluctant as he was he had to make sure he wasn’t dreaming here, “Y-you’re not mad?”

Eddie seemed to vaguely understand that they still needed to talk, but that wasn’t stopping him from kissing every other part of Steve’s face, “Why would I be mad?”

“Because…” Because I’m a guy? Because you could do better? Because I’m a suffocating freak who already takes up most of your time? “Because I’m me?”

Eddie rolled his eyes, “Oh no, the man I’m in love with is himself. Whatever will I do?”

Steve froze for the second time at that, a smile slowly spreading over his face, “You love me?”

“I love you, you love me, and I would really appreciate it if we could just make-out on my bed now that-”

Eddie didn’t even get the full sentence out before Steve was on him, tackling him on the bed to smash their lips back together.

And sure, Steve was still scared shitless about the possibility that Eddie would wake up one day and realize he could do better, but for now? He’d take it.

[beforeimdeceased]

IM SO HOOKED ON CRYBABY I NEED MORE OMG

CRYBABY! - (E.W) PT6

pairing: mean/cruel ellie x sensitive/emotional reader.

synopsis: you’ve had enough at this point.

a/n: the next chapter is already in the works and guys…things get so… like there’s no going back i think this is the end point 😭

i don’t care if it hurts

masterlist.

no one can get a word in before jesse breaks up the fight. “we go on in two minutes. get it together. fucking get cleaned up.” he pulls at ellie.

you’re baffled, really. such a silly word but it’s the only one you can use. abby never really got into fights, that you’d known of. she was one of your best friends. and you never had the heart to tell her about what ellie had done, so how did she figure everything out? why are you spiraling? ellie probably said or did something to get herself punched. maybe this has nothing to do with you?

“and i’m very excited to introduce our next performers. watching them go from garages, to performing on stages, to signing record deals has been a beautiful journey. i’m happy to say i’ve been here since the beginning. now please make some noise for, seattle revival!”

you and abby are sat backstage as you dress her wounds. you wait to hear a familiar string of notes from jesse as he starts their first song, but you’re surprised by ellie’s voice on the mic.

“guys i just want to start the show off by apologizing to someone very near a dear to me. a very special person in my life who i’ve hurt—“

“we love you ellie!”

“aww i love you too. i want to say i’m sorry to her because i did some really fucked up shit in the past and i hope that she can forgive me and that we can move past it.”

the crowd cheers.

“and go back to being lovey dovey girlfriends. please forgive me babe. it’ll never happen again.”

abby’s mouth falls so far to the ground you could stick your fist in it. her face has never turned red faster. “what the fuck is she talking about? you guys were—are dating?”

you frantically shake your head. “no abby she’s lying. i don’t know what she’s gaining from it either. i think we should go now.”

“and this next song is dedicated to her—“ she points to you, an employee tugs at you to make you more visible, pulling you to the stage. a spotlight falls on you. everybody’s phone is up. everybody’s flash is on. here come the waterworks, fuck. didn’t you say you weren’t gonna cry today?

and then a familiar string of notes plays. jesse and dina catch on quickly, and your heart seeps. there was no way she was playing this song right now.

“when you were here before.”

you’re taken back to that first rehearsal. stuffed in jesse’s parents garage on a gloomy day. you were sitting on a scratched up couch, petting his cat. ellie looked over to you with a smile on her face. “you listen to a lot of music?”

you nod. “i love music. i was honestly so excited to hear you guys are starting a band. i’ll be your first groupie! handmade merch and everything.”

she laughs before whispering something to jesse and dina, then returning to the mic. “we’re gonna dedicate this one to our first groupie.”

“couldn’t look you in the eyes.”

dina and jesse slipped off after that practice and you knew they’d gone to go fuck somewhere, so you stayed with ellie. “they have no idea how to be discreet about it.” you laugh. she shrugs. “good on them, atleast i’m not alone dealing with it anymore.”

she’d convinced you to grab icecream with her. nestled in the booth of the old restaurant over an icecream sundae. soft music playing from its speakers. it was nearly empty, and it had started to rain outside.

“so how long have you known jesse and dina?” you ask, dipping a spoon in your side of the sweet treat. she grabs a cherry from the top, popping it into her mouth. “since we were kids in highschool. those are my best friends. i’m excited to be starting a band with them, and i’m glad i got to meet you.”

you blush.

you’re crying now. onstage, you’re crying. you can feel the tears slipping down your cheeks and underneath your chin. you wipe at them but they just won’t go away. she was so sweet to you a couple years ago. she was the sweetest person you’d ever met. how could you even compare the person singing to you now, and the person you’d met back then?

then you get a glimpse of her. it’s in her eyes. you’re flashing back between that memory and now. her hand in yours, running through the rain. catching the bus back to jesse’s. staying up and watching movies all night. waking up the next day to the lovebirds apologizing, while you and ellie laugh about it so hard your stomachs started to ache.

and you’re conflicted because this is the same ellie that got drunk at a party and threw up all over you. twice. then the next day said, “atleast it was better than what you’d been wearing.” jesus, she was addicting. she’d hooked you in and completely destroyed you. your self esteem. and now she was trying to play nice?

out of the corner of your eye, before you can catch it, abby is walking onstage. she takes a moment to look at you, tears streaming down your face, and decides to turn around. she walks away and it takes you a minute to follow behind. calling for her. begging her to come back.

“abby stop. where are you going?”

“no, just stop. you’re pathetic. why do you take the shit she does? don’t you have any respect for yourself?”

you’ve never heard her speaking to you this way. between your head rushing from the crying and the whiplash you’re getting from her harsh words, you feel like you’re going to pass out. “i don’t just take it abby. how do you even know about that stuff—“

“because jesse and dina told me! i’m supposed to be your best fucking friend but you can’t even communicate the simplest of things. the things i know are hurting you inside. i was gonna— never mind. fucking forget it.”

and then she walks away, disappearing into a hallway. fading away slowly like a ghost. body blurred from your tears. you feel your feet get weak first, then you drop to your knees and onto the ground. huddling within yourself. letting all your tears fall.

the “seattle revival’s last show after party” is one you refused to miss. with everything happening between abby and ellie, you were more than prepared to let it all go. to get drunk or high or whatever the fuck, and stop feeling. this very thought picked you up off that floor, and led you to the dressing rooms. you enjoyed the rest of the show from there, wiping at your face so hard you felt like it would bruise.

when the band found their way into the dressing room, dina and jesse rushed over to comfort you. “i swear i’d bash her head in if it didn’t interfere with the tour. i’m sorry, i shouldn’t be apologizing for her but it’s the only way you’ll get a real one. i’m sorry.”

you had sat with the pain for long enough. you’d cried enough. you didn’t know where abby was or why she said what she did but it was your breaking point. if you were a house, she had pulled a loose brick. making everything collapse within itself. and tumble over everyone else in its path. you felt like…ellie. the world had darkened. the small light, the tiny bits of happiness in you, had melted away. you didn’t care anymore.

you get up to face ellie, her smile fading when her eyes meet yours. everything had left them. all that purity. all that love, was gone.

“honestly i’m over it. let’s go to the after party.”

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Hell House | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual)

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, unwanted sexual advances toward reader (nothing crazy, just uncomfortable flirtation)

Word Count: 6125

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

After leaving John and the Daevas behind, you and the boys began heading to Texas to investigate a potential case.

Sam slept in the front seat of the car as Dean cruised down Interstate 35. He looked at you suspiciously, smirking in the rearview mirror.

“What?” you whispered.

“Watch this,” Dean told you, grabbing a plastic spoon from the backseat next to you and put it in Sam’s mouth. Snickering, he took a picture with his phone before turning the music up loud. You rolled your eyes and laughed as Sam jerked up waving his arms and trying to spit the spoon out.

“Ha ha, very funny,” the younger Winchester said un-amusedly.

Dean gave what you could only describe as a giggle. You thought it was adorable. “Sorry, not a lot of scenery here in East Texas; kinda gotta make your own.”

“Man, we're not kids anymore, Dean. We're not going to start that crap up again,” Sam stated.

“Start what up?” you asked.

“Prank stuff. It's stupid, and it always escalates,” Sam explained to you.

Dean mocked, “Aw, what's the matter Sammy, scared you're going to get a little Nair in your shampoo again, huh?” replied Dean.

“Alright, just remember you started it.”

“Ah ha, bring it on baldy.”

“Guys, I am not going to mediate or participate in a prank war,” you jumped in.

“Nobody asked you to, sweetheart,” Dean flippantly responded. “But don’t be surprised if you get caught in the crossfire.”

“Dean—!”

“Where are we anyway?” Sam cut you off.

“A few hours outside of Richardson. Gimme the lowdown again?” Dean asked.

“About a month or two ago, this group of kids goes poking around in this local haunted house.”

“Haunted by what?” you asked.

“Apparently, a pretty misogynistic spirit,” he answered.

“Oh, great,” you grumbled.

Sam laughed. “Legend goes, it takes girls and strings them up in the rafters. Anyway, this group of kids see this dead girl hanging in the cellar.”

You scoffed. “Oh, even better.”

“Anybody ID the corpse?” asked Dean.

“Well, that's the thing. By the time the cops got there the body was gone. So cops are saying the kids were just yanking chains.”

“Maybe the cops are right,” the older brother suggested.

“Maybe, but I read a couple of the kids' firsthand accounts. They seemed pretty sincere,” Sam shrugged.

“Where’d you find those?” you asked.

The brunet hesitated, seeming a little embarrassed. “Well, I knew we were going to be passing through Texas. So, um, last night, I surfed some local… paranormal websites. And I found one.”

“And what's it called?” Dean prompted.

“HellHoundsLair.com.”

“Lemme guess, streaming live out of Mom's basement.”

Sam grinned. “Yeah, probably."

“Yeah. Most of those websites wouldn't know a ghost if it bit 'em in the persqueeter,” Dean quipped.

“Look, we let Dad take off. Which was a mistake, by the way. And now we don't know where the hell he is, so in the meantime, we gotta find ourselves something to hunt. There's no harm checking this thing out.”

“Agreed. But not on the mistake part— I’m not getting involved in that argument,” you said.

“Good call,” Dean responded. “So where do we find these kids?”

“Same place you always find kids in a town like this,” Sam said. He directed his brother to a fast food outlet called “Rodeo Drive.”

You interviewed all of the kids who had been involved in the incident, and the only detail they could agree on in their story was that a teen named Craig had been the one to introduce them to the house.

***

The next day, you went to the record stop Craig worked at and posed as interviewers trying to get his side of the story on a paranormal feature you were writing. Sam had asked him about the house he’d taken his friends to. 

“You mean the Hell House?” the teen answered.

“That’s the one,” answered Dean.

“I didn't think there was anything to the story,” Craig shrugged.

“Why don't you tell us the story,” Sam told him.

Craig quieted his voice and looked around for eavesdroppers. “Well, supposedly back in the '30s this farmer, Mordechai Murdoch, used to live in this house with his six daughters. It was during the Depression, his crops were failing, he didn't have enough money to feed his own children. So I guess that's when he went off the deep end.”

“How?” you questioned.

“Well, he figured it was best if his girls died quick, rather than starve to death. So he attacked them. They screamed, begged for him to stop but he just strung 'em up, one after the other. And when he was all finished, he just turned around and hung himself. Now they say that his spirit is trapped in the house forever, stringing up any other girl that goes inside.”

‘Oh, that’s just great.’

“Where'd you hear all this?” Dean questioned.

“My cousin Dana told me. I don't know where she heard it from. Ya gotta realize, I— I didn't believe this for a second.”

“But now you do,” the younger brother finished for him.

“I don't know what the hell to think, man. You guys, I— I'll tell you exactly what I told the police, ok? That girl was real. And she was dead. This was not a prank. I swear to God, I don't wanna go anywhere near that house ever again, okay?”

***

You and the boys headed to the Hell House. It was more like a dilapidated shack at this point; it looked like it had been made with wooden boards that were probably rotting and hollowed out by termites. The path up to the house was muddy, and the house itself was in the middle of nowhere surrounded by woods. Add “woods” on top of “misogynistic ghost,” and you were thoroughly worried about this hunt.

“Can't say I blame the kid,” Sam commented, taking in the appearance of the house.

“Yeah, so much for curb appeal,” quipped Dean. “You gonna be okay, sweetheart? You look like you’re gonna hurl.”

You looked up at Dean. “Well, misogynistic ghosts that kill any girl who goes inside don’t exactly tickle my fancy.”

Dean’s tone became a little more sincere, but still filled with his typical sarcastic charm. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m fine. I’m a big girl; I can handle myself. Just uneasy, that’s all.”

“Hey, (Y/N)?” Sam asked. “I realized something back in Chicago.”

“What’s that?” you asked while you ducked under the police tape blocking the door. 

“You never told us where you’re from. You know we’re from Lawrence, so, what’s your story?”

“Honestly, Sammy, I have no idea,” you responded. “My parents never told me. I don’t have a copy of my birth certificate either. If it weren’t for my mom using my middle name when she was mad at me, I wouldn’t even know what it was. Don’t know my social security number, either. I’m not even confident the government has record of my existence.”

“Huh,” replied Sam. “How’d your mom even have time for a kid if she’s been hunting since you were born?”

You took out your flashlight and continued looking around while you talked to Sam. “That’s the thing, she didn’t. My mom was never really a mom to me, and she certainly wasn’t to my little brother. Even though he was only two years younger than me, I kind of had to fill the role of ‘mom’,” you explained.

Sam looked at you sadly. “I’m sorry.”

“Meh, it’s whatever,” you shrugged. “You got something?”

Dean was looking around with his EMF meter. It was beeping, but not making sounds indicative of a usual reading. “Ye-ah,” he sounded unsure. “The EMF’s no good.”

“Why?” Sam questioned.

Dean looked at the power lines just outside the house. “I think that thing's still got a little juice in it. It's screwing with all the readings.”

“Yeah that'd do it,” Sam sighed.

“Looks like old man Murdock was a bit of a tagger here in his time, though,” Dean stated, looking at the symbols covering the walls.

“And after his time too. That reverse cross has been used by Satanists for centuries, but this sigil of sulfur didn't show up in San Francisco until the '60s,” Sam informed.

You and Dean stared at Sam for a moment before the older brother quipped, “That is exactly why you never get laid.”

You patted Sam’s shoulder. “I think it’s cool,” you assured him. 

He returned your smile. “Thanks, (Y/N).”

Dean moved to another wall with a cross with a dot in the middle. The bottom piece of the cross looked almost like a fishhook. “Hey, what about this one? You guys seen this one before?”

Sam shook his head, but you felt a sense of vague recognition, too. “Somewhere, I think.”

“Yeah, me too,” Dean said.

Sam rubbed the symbol. “It's paint. Seems pretty fresh too.”

Dean sighed. “I don't know, Sam. You know I hate to agree with authority figures of any kind, but... the cops may be right about this one.”

A sudden noise had you on high alert. You and Dean flanked one side of the door, guns drawn, and Sam took the other. Dean nodded, and the three of you burst through only to be met with blinding lights in your eyes.

“Oh, cut. It's just a coupla humans,” a nasally male voice said. 

The two men before you both donned backpacks and baggy cargo pants. They were around your height and seemed like complete involuntarily-celibate nerds to you.

“What are you guys doing here?” the same guy asked. He held an electrical device in one hand while the other man held a video camera.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Dean’s gruff reply came.

“Uh, we belong here; we're professionals?” the man said matter-of-factly.

You scoffed. “Professional what?”

The man eyed you up and down before answering, and you fought the cringe crawling up your spine. “Paranormal Investigators.” He handed you a business card. “There you go, take a look at that, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me that,” you gritted through your teeth.

Dean took the card from you, saying, “Easy, tiger.” He read it and muttered, “Oh, you gotta be kidding me.”

“Ed Zeddmore and Harry Spengler? Hellhoundslair.com. You guys run that website,” Sam noted.

The man who had been looking you up and down who’d identified himself as Ed nodded proudly.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, we're huge fans,” Dean grinned.

“And ahh, we know who you guys are too,” Ed said confidently.

You shot a sideways glance to Dean. “Oh yeah?”

“Amateurs.”

You and Dean immediately lost interest.

Ed continued, “Looking for ghosts and cheap thrills.”

“Yep. So if you guys don't mind, we're trying to conduct a serious scientific investigation here,” Harry finished.

“Really? What have you got so far?” you asked.

“Harry, why dontcha tell 'em about EMF?”

Sam played dumb, too. “EMF?” You could tell he was fighting a smile.

“Electromagnetic field? Spectral entities can cause energy fluctuations that can be read with an EMF detector. Like this bad boy right here.” Harry gestured to the machine Ed was holding, who turned it on.

“Whoa. Whoa. It's 2.8mg,” Harry noted.

“2.8. It's hot in here,” Ed grinned.

Dean whistled in mock admiration. “So you guys ever really seen a ghost before, or…?”

“Once. We were, uh— We were investigating this old house and we saw a vase fall right off the table—” 

“By itself,” Harry finished.

“Well, we, we we we didn't actually see it, we heard it. And something like that… it, uh… it changes you,” Ed said solemnly.

“Yeah. I think I get the picture. We should go, let them get back to work,” Dean broke their stupor. “C’mon, (Y/N).”

He led you and his brother out of the room with the two guys in it. Dean stood behind you protectively.

“What?” you asked him as he led you out of the house.

“Didn’t like how he was looking at you,” he grumbled before seeming to realize what he had just admitted. “And… uh, misogynistic ghosts, and all.”

A smile spread across your face. “Thanks.”

***

You and the boys headed to a diner for some cheap burgers and beer before you decided to hit the road. You couldn’t find any missing persons matching the description of the Jane Doe that had been in the house, nor could Sam find anything on a Mordechai Murdoch. The real man had existed under a different name. You ruled the case a bust, and just wanted to relax a little before leaving town. 

“How’s that thing on your leg healing?” Dean asked you, referencing the deep gashes you’d received in Chicago.

“Meh, it’s okay,” you shrugged, taking a sip of your beer. “It’s way better than it was a few days ago.”

“Good,” he nodded before clearing his throat. “So? Sammy, you got anything?” 

His brother was scrolling the internet in search of a new case when something caught his attention. “Dude.”

“What?” you and Dean asked in unison.

“The Hell House.”

***

Emergency vehicles and officials hurried about, interviewing witnesses and wheeling out a stretcher with a body bag on it. The sinking feeling you got from the Hell House returned to your stomach as you and the boys approached it.

“What happened?” Dean asked a bystander.

“A couple of cops say a girl hung herself in the house,” explained the bystander. “She was a straight A student with a full ride to UT, too. It just don't make sense.” He walked away from the two of you.

“I don’t understand,” you started. “How could we’ve missed something?”

“I don’t know,” Sam shook his head. 

“Back to the drawing board, I guess,” Dean sighed.

You waited for the emergency vehicles to clear out and allow you and the boys the ability to get another look at the house. Two cops remained guarding it, though, to which Sam commented, “I guess the cops don't want anyone else screwing around in there.”

You and the brothers were crouched in the bushes, trying to plan how to get in the house. You then heard whispers that caught your attention, and turned to see Ed and Harry clunkily approaching with cumbersome backpacks and gadgets covering them from head to toe.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean grumbled. “I got an idea.” 

You shot him a confused look while he stood a little taller and cupped a hand to his mouth. “Who ya gonna call!”

You almost burst out in giggles at his stupid reference. 

“Hey, you!” one of the cops called and took off running in the direction of Ed and Harry. The two guys turned and sprinted away. Well, sprinted as much as they could with their heavy packs.

You and the boys rushed into the abandoned house, passing each other weapons from the duffel bag. Dean was transfixed by the symbol on the wall. “Where have I seen that symbol before? It's killing me!”

“Yeah, me too, but we don’t have much time,” you urged him, slapping a shotgun in his hand and pulling him further into the home. You headed down to the basement and took in your dust-covered surroundings. You could feel your allergy beginning to get aggravated while you looked around.

“Hey, Sam. I dare you to take a swig of this,” Dean grinned, holding up a jar he found on one of the shelves.

“What the hell would I do that for?” scoffed the younger brother.

“...I double dare you.”

Sam just shook his head and continued walking.

You flinched and grabbed Dean’s arm at a sound coming from within a cabinet. Dean looked to you and back at the cabinet before the two of you took either side of the cabinet’s doors. At Dean’s nod, you threw the door open. Rats inside it squeaked and scurried away from the light of Sam’s flashlight. 

“Arghh!” Dean yelped. “I hate rats.”

Sam scoffed. “You'd rather it was a ghost?”

Dean considered, but nodded. “Yes!” Dean suddenly looked up at something above your head, and you shrieked at the sight of an ax nearly hitting you squarely on your forehead. Dean yanked you away just in time and shielded you with his body protectively. He shot at the ghost of the tall farmer wearing a colorless straw hat that wasn’t at all deterred by the rocksalt. He shot once more, but it was still there. And then the final time, Mordechai disappeared.

“What the hell kind of spirit is immune to rock salt?” Sam questioned frantically.

“I don’t know! Come on, come on!” Dean urged you and his brother. 

You ran toward the stairs, and Mordechai smashed his ax down through the shelves right next to your head. You raised your gun at him and shot multiple times, praying it would work. Nothing worked, and you narrowly missed another swing of the ghost’s ax before you fled.

“(Y/N), let’s go!” Sam called, running ahead of you. You and the boys sprinted out of the door of the house, only to be met with flashlights and a camera in your face.

“Get that damn thing outta my face,” Dean commanded before hurrying away again. You and the boys left the Hell House in the dust. 

“You okay?” Dean asked you when you returned to the car.

You tried to catch your breath, slumping into the backseat. “Holy shit,” you muttered. “I think so. You?”

He nodded. “Fine.”

“But Dean.”

“Hm.”

“You’re sweet, but I don’t need you to protect me. I can hold my own,” you told him.

Dean scoffed. “It’s a misogynistic ghost, (Y/N). I’m obviously gonna be a little concerned.”

You smiled fondly, but held your position. “I know. Just… I can handle it. You don’t have to worry about me.”

He just grunted in response.

***

The next day, you and the boys were hanging out in their motel room. You and Sam were at your laptops researching while Dean sat on his bed scribbling in a notepad.

“What the hell is this symbol? It's buggin' the hell outta me. This whole damn job's buggin' me. What was with those slit wrists? I thought the legend says he hung himself.”

“That’s what you’ve been scribbling all this time?” You looked up from your laptop. “That symbol?”

“Yeah,” Dean answered. “But seriously, what the hell is going on here?”

Sam jumped in, saying, “And the ax too. I mean, ghosts are usually pretty strict, right? Following the same patterns over and over?”

“But this mook keeps changing,” Dean added.

“Exactly. I'm telling ya, the way the story goes... wait a minute.”

“What?”

“Someone added a new post to the Hell Hound site. Listen to this. 'They say Mordechai Murdock was really a Satanist who chopped up his victims with an ax before slitting his own wrists. Now he's imprisoned in the house for eternity.”

“What the fuck?” you questioned, sliding Sam’s laptop over to yourself. “How the hell is he changing?”

“I don't know,” Dean broke in, “but I think I might have just figured out where it all started.”

***

Your next stop was the music store Craig worked at.

“Hey Craig? Remember us?” Dean asked the teen who was organizing records.

“Guys, look I'm really not in the mood to answer any of your questions ok?” Craig answered.

“Oh, don't worry. We're just here to buy an album, that's all.” Dean flipped through a stack of records, and you looked over his shoulder. You suddenly realized where he was going with this. He picked up a Blue Oyster Cult album, and you nodded in acknowledgment as you put together the symbol had been the logo for the band.

“You know, I couldn't figure out what that symbol was, and then, I realized that it doesn't mean anything. It's the logo for the Blue Oyster Cult,” Dean said, putting the album on the counter across from Craig. “Tell me Craig, you, uh, you into BOC? Or just scaring the hell outta people? Now why 'n't you tell us about that house. Without lying through your ass this time.”

Craig sighed. “Alright, um. My cousin Dana was on break from TCU. Ah, I guess we were just bored, looking for something to do. So I showed her this abandoned dump I found. We thought it would be funny if we made it look like it was haunted. So we painted symbols on the walls; some from some albums, some from some of Dana's theology textbooks. Then, we found out this guy Murdock used to live there so we— we made up some story to go along with that. So they told people, who told other people. And then these two guys put it on their stupid website. Everything just took on a life of its own. I mean I, I thought it was funny at first but... now that girl's dead! It was just a joke, you know. I mean, none of it was real, we made the whole thing up. I swear!”

You knew he hadn’t meant any harm. “Okay. Thank you.”

You and the boys left an emotional Craig standing at the counter. 

“If none of it was real how the hell do you explain Mordechai?” Dean asked.

“I have no idea,” you responded.

***

The next morning, you and the boys headed out to get some breakfast and coffee. Sam was shifting uncomfortably every few seconds in his seat. “What’s your deal, dude?” you asked.

His response was a grimace before he explained he thought Mordechai might be a Tulpa. “Okay, so there was this incident in Tibet in 1915. Group of monks visualized a golem in their head. They meditated on it so hard they brought the thing to life. Outta thin air.”

“So?” Dean said.

“That was twenty monks. Imagine what ten thousand web surfers could do. I mean, Craig starts the story about Mordechai, then it spreads, goes online. Now there are countless people all believing in the bastard,” Sam replied.

“Now wait a second. Are you trying to tell me that just because people believe in Mordechai, he's real?”

Sam shifted again. “I don’t know, maybe.”

“People believe in Santa Claus— how come I'm not getting hooked up every Christmas?” Dean remarked.

“ ‘Cause we’re bad people,” you remarked. Dean seemed convinced by your answer.

“And because of this.” Sam turned his phone to you and Dean to show you a photo of a symbol on one of the walls of the Hell House. “That's a Tibetan spirit sigil. On the wall of the house. Craig said they were painting symbols from a theology textbook. I bet they painted this; not even knowing what it was. Now, that sigil has been used for centuries, concentrating meditative thoughts like a magnifying glass. So people are on the HellHounds website, staring at the symbol, thinking about Mordechai… I mean I don't know, but it might be enough to bring a Tulpa to life.”

You shrugged. “That would explain why the bastard keeps changing.”

“Right, as the legend changes, people think different things, so Mordechai himself changes. Like a game of telephone. That would also explain why the rock salt didn't work.” Sam shifted at least five separate times in his chair as he spoke. 

“Yeah, because he's not a traditional spirit,” the older brother continued. “Okay. So why don't we just, uh, get this spirit sigil thingie off the wall and off the website?”

“Well, it's not that simple. You see, once Tulpas are created they take on a life of their own,” Sam explained.

“Great. So if he really is a thought form, how the hell are we supposed to kill an idea?”

“Well, it's not gonna be easy with these guys helping us. Check out their homepage.”

Sam showed you and Dean footage from two days ago. “Since they've posted the video, their number of hits have quadrupled in the last day alone.”

“Great,” you muttered. “But I have an idea. C’mon.” You got up from the table and began heading away.

“Where we going?” Dean questioned.

“To find a copy store.”

Sam got up and began to follow you. “Man, I think I'm allergic to our soap or something.”

Dean laughed and walked after you.

“You did this?!” Sam called.

The only response he got was a laugh from his brother. 

“You're a friggin jerk!”

“Oh yeah!” Dean pumped a fist in the air.

***

After you hit the copy store to carry out your idea, you and the boys found Ed and Harry’s trailer park residence and rapped against the door loudly.

“Who is it?” Harry’s voice called.

“Come on out here guys, we hear you in there,” Dean called back. When the door opened, Dean looked over the two men’s shoulders. “Ah, would you look at that! Action figures in their original packaging— what a shock.”

You snickered,but nudged him. “Be polite.”

“Guys, we need to talk,” Sam said. 

“Yeah, um, sorry guys. We're ahhh, a little bit busy right now,” Ed responded. “But pretty lady, if you’d like to stay—”

Dean cut him off, gruffly saying, “Okay, well, we'll make it quick. We need you to shut down your website.”

Ed laughed. “Man, you know, these guys got us busted the other night, spent the night in a holding cell—”

“I had to pee in that cell urinal. In front of people. And I get stage fright,” the other goon chimed in.

“Why should we trust you guys?”

“Look, guys. We all know what we saw that night; what's in the house. But now, thanks to your website, there are thousands of people hearing about Mordechai,” the brunet explained.

“That's right. Which means people are gonna keep showing up at the Hell House, running into him in person, somebody could get hurt,” Dean continued.

“Ed, maybe he's got a point, maybe—”

Ed cut his friend off. “Nope.”

“No,” Harry said despite his position moments earlier.

“We have an obligation to our fans, to the truth,” Ed stated.

“Well I have an obligation to kick both your little asses right now—” Dean’s face hardened, and you could see Ed and Harry nearly shit themselves.

You pulled his arm back. “Just forget about it,” you told him. “You could bitch slap ‘em both, I could tell them that thing about Mordechai, but they’re still not gonna listen. Let’s just go.” You turned away.

“Whoa! Whoa!” the guys called after you. “What’d you say about...?”

“Hang on a second here,” Harry said. “What thing about Mordechai, you guys?”

“Don’t tell ‘em, (Y/N),” Sam said.

“But if they agree to shut the website down, Sam—”

“They're not going to do it, you said so yourself,” Dean chimed in.

“No wait. Wait. Don't listen to him ok? We'll do it. We'll do it,” Ed said, stepping closer to you.

You sighed. “Look, it is a really big deal, alright. And it wasn't easy to dig up. So only if we have your word that you'll shut everything down.”

“Totally,” Ed nodded.

Dean handed over some paperwork you’d doctored at the copy shop reluctantly. “It's a death certificate. From the '30s. We got it at the library. Now according to the coroner, the actual cause of death was a self-inflicted gunshot wound.”

“That's right, he didn't hang or cut himself,” added Dean.

Ed’s eyebrows shot up. “He shot himself?”

“Yep. With a .45 pistol. To this day, they say he's terrified of them,” you said.

Dean continued explaining. “Matter of fact, they say if you shoot him with a .45, loaded with these special wrought-iron rounds, it'll kill the son of a bitch.”

Ed and Harry snickered gleefully. Harry spun around and bolted back to the trailer. Ed followed more slowly. 

Once they were out of earshot, you held up crossed fingers to the boys. “Here’s hoping.”

***

You and the boys were waiting for Ed and Harry to put out the bogus story you’d given them at a diner later that evening. You sat in the booth between Sam and the wall, and looked over at his laptop while he reloaded the page repeatedly. Dean sat across from you and his brother, pulling the cord of a plaque on the wall of a fisherman holding a big fish. The fisherman’s mouth moved up and down when Dean pulled the cord. 

You pulled it again to stop it. “If you pull that damn cord one more time, I’ll kill you.”

Dean sent you a challenging look and pulled the cord again. You pulled it again in response.

“Come on, sweetheart, you need more laughter in your life. You know, you're way too tense.”

“What! I do laugh!” you pouted.

“Not as much as this guy.” He pulled the cord again.

You pulled it to stop it for a final time. “Don’t try me.”

Dean sighed. “They post it yet?”

Sam turned the laptop around to Dean. “We've learned from reputable sources that Mordechai Murdock has a fatal fear of firearms. Alright. How long do we wait?”

“Long enough for the new story to spread,” replied Sam, “and the legend to change. I figure by nightfall, iron rounds will work on the sucker.” Sam lifted his beer and you and Dean lifted yours as well. The three of you tapped them together.

“Sweet,” Dean said. He took a long swig of his beer and Sam grinned. The older of the two tried to put his beer down, but it was stuck to his beer.

Sam cracked up, as did you, and Dean stared at his brother incredulous. “You didn't.”

Sam continued to laugh and held up his tube of super glue. “Oh, I did!”

Dean shook his hand trying to get the beer off and turned his aggravation to you. “You knew about this?”

You felt guilty, but said, “Hey, I told you, I’m Switzerland in this prank war.”

“Oh, it’s on, sweetheart.”

“Dean! I didn’t even do anything! I’m Switzerland! Look, I’ll even help you get it off your hand, okay? Stop pouting.”

Dean grunted, “Fine.”

***

Dean bought the laughing fisherman from the diner and brought it to the woods beyond the Hell House later that night. You wrapped the cord around a rock to weigh the pulley mechanism down to lure the cops away from the house.

You entered the house on alert with your gun drawn, Dean trailing just behind you. “I barely have any skin left on my palm,” he said snarkily.

“So you think Mordechai's home?” you asked as you entered another room.

“I don't know,” Sam answered.

“Me either,” a voice said from behind you.

You wheeled around and pointed your gun at the source of the sound. 

“Whoa! Whoa!” Ed said.

“What are you trying to do, get yourself killed?” you yelled.

“We're just trying to get a book and movie deal, ok?” Harry said.

“Motherfucker—” You were cut off by the sound of knives being sharpened coming from the basement. Your guard immediately went back up. 

“Oh crap,” Ed said. “Don’t worry (Y/N), I’ll protect you.”

“Oh, get off me, dickhead.” You shrugged his hand off your shoulders. 

He crowded way too closely behind you and followed you and the brothers to the basement door. 

“Ah guys, you wanna— you wanna open that door for us?” Ed grinned uncomfortably.

“Why don't you?” Dean turned to him, shooting daggers at him.

Mordechai burst through the door at that moment, holding an ax and screaming. You and the boys began emptying your gun chambers into his stomach, but the guns had no effect on him. You then swept the other rooms in search of Ed and Harry.

“What the fuck, didn’t you guys post that bullshit story we gave you?” you asked them when you found them.

“Of course we did,” Ed scoffed.

Sam and Dean appeared behind you.

“But then our server crashed,” Harry explained.

“So it didn't take?” Dean asked rhetorically.

The two men exchanged looks and murmured to themselves.

“So these, these guns don't work.” Dean laughed coldly and raked a hand through his hair. “Great. Sam, any ideas?”

“We are getting outta here,” Harry said. “Come on, Ed.”

Harry and Ed ran past you and Dean to the other room. You noticed Mordechai’s apparition following them before you heard two girlish screeches coming from their direction.

“Hey! Come and get it, you ugly son of a bitch,” you told the ghost.

“Gladly,” Ed said, not realizing you were talking to Mordechai.

You grabbed the hilt of the ax as he tried to take a swing at you, pushing against him with all your might. You were then pinned against the wall, the ax across your throat and constricting your airway, 

“Get out of here, now!” you told Ed and Harry. They sprinted out of the door as you struggled against Mordechai, who lifted you up in the air by the ax.

“Guys! Help!” you screamed.

Moments later, Dean appeared. He held up a spray bottle and lit it, making a plume of fire appear.

“Get out of here, now!” Dean told you. You ran past him. You met Sam in another room, clutching your throat.

“You okay?” Sam asked you. He stooped to get eye-level with you.

“Yeah,” you choked out. “Peachy.”

Dean sped into the room next to you. “Mordechai can't leave the house, we can't kill him— We improvise,” he said. He held up his lighter, flicked it, and threw it back into the room behind you. It burst into flames, and you ran after the boys outside.

“That's your solution? Burn the whole damn place to the ground?” Sam asked incredulously.

“Well, nobody will go in anymore. I mean, look, Mordechai can't haunt a house if there's no house to haunt. It's fast and dirty, but it works,” Dean replied simply.

“Well, add arsonists to our rap sheet,” you said. 

“What if the legend changes again and Mordechai is allowed to leave the house?” questioned Sam.

“Then we'll just have to come back,” Dean shrugged. 

You turned back to the house and watched it burn.

“Kinda makes you wonder. Of all the things we hunted, how many existed just cuz people believed in them,” said Sam. You looked back to him, amazed at how he could be profound in the midst of your situation.

***

You and the boys made one last pit stop by Harry and Ed’s trailer park before you were planning to head out of town. The two guys in question came over to your picnic table carrying grocery bags.

“I was thinking that Mordechai has a really super high attack bonus,” Ed said. “Man, I got the munchies right now.” He turned to the boys. “Gentlemen. And m’lady.”

You cringed. 

“Should we tell 'em.” Harry could barely contain his gloating.

“Hey, might as well, you know, they're going to read about it in the trades,” Ed smirked.

“So this morning we got a phone call from a very important Hollywood producer.”

“Oh yeah, wrong number?” Dean snorted.

“No, smart-ass. He read all about the Hell House on our website and wants to option the motion picture rights. Maybe even have us write it.”

They put grocery bags into their completely overloaded car. 

“And create the RPG,” Harry added.

“The what?” Dean asked.

“Role playing game,” came Ed’s simple reply. “A little lingo for you. Anyhoo, ah, excuse us, we're off to la-la land.”

“Well, congratulations guys. That sounds really great,” Sam nodded.

“Yeah. That's awesome, best of luck to you,” you said.

“Oh yeah, luck. That has nothing to do with it. It's about talent. Sheer unabashed talent,” Ed grinned. “And you…” he sauntered up to you. “...Call me. You could have a bright future in film.”

You forced a smile at him.

“Later, baby,” he grinned. He got in the car next to his buddy and sped away.

“I have a confession to make,” Sam said as the three of you watched them drive off.

“What's that,” prompted Dean.

“I, uh… I was the one that called them and told them I was a producer.”

You and Dean laughed. “Yeah, well, I'm the one who put the dead fish in their back seat,” the latter snickered.

“And I may have been the one to put the cops on ‘em about the Murdoch house fire. And the fact that they don’t have a license plate on that car. Or on their camper.”

Dean and Sam burst out laughing at you. You joined in with them.

“Truce?” The brunet turned to his brother.

“Yeah, truce,” he answered. “At least for the next hundred miles.”

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @more-espresso-less-depresso-og @mysticmyth

a lot of my tags are broken which makes me very sad. if you see that i've misspelled your tag, please let me know! and make sure you have my post notifs on so a broken tag doesn't stop you from seeing the next chapter!!

[lovecla]

IF YOU LOVE ME, LET ME KNOW | jack hughes.

00.1. how it happened:

➴ warnings: none!!

➴ word count: 1.2k

➴ author’s note: welcome everyone!! as i promised, here’s the start to our fuck buddies jack ‘n soph series<3 hope u love them as much as i do!

—♡

IT all started as a joke.

Not your career, no, that was very serious. Sometimes you still couldn’t believe how big you’d gotten. Seriously, it was like magic. People now paid to see your concerts, asked to take pictures with you and related to your songs, your situations.

How crazy was that?

But that isn’t the main joke.

It all started a few weeks after the release of your single, Nonsense. You were alone in your home studio, doing some writing and recording a few ad-libs for your new upcoming album— all songs dedicated to your shitty, fucking cheater of an ex, yeah— when Grace, your best friend and manager, barged in with her phone on her hands.

“Jesus,” you said, putting your hand over your heart. “Don’t you know how to knock? You literally scared the shit out of me, dumbass.”

“Knocking is for the weak. Also, I need to show you this. Ain’t no time for knocking.”

She sat on the chair beside you and showed you her phone. It was some kind of TikTok but even if you tried to understand what it was, you couldn’t.

“So?” Grace asked, a huge smile on her face.

“Hum,” you said, sounding uncertain. “Cool video! Are you leaving me for a TikTok career?”

She laughed out loud. “What?! You’re such a dumbass sometimes,” she showed you her phone again. “This, my love, is the New Jersey Devils account.”

“People who praise the devil like my songs? Didn’t see that coming…”

“Sophia, don’t you fucking tell me you don’t know who they are!” Grace furrowed her eyebrows.

“Hum… I do?” You lied.

She made a weird sound, which sounded a lot like a frustrated scream.

“They’re hockey players, they are in the NHL, National Hockey League. And this video alone has three million likes. And why, you ask me, little puppy,” Grace started using her theater kid voice and you rolled your eyes.

“Probably because they’re hot, I don’t know?”

“I thought that too. But then, I went to check the comments, and all of them were talking about your songs. So I watched the video and I realised, half of the team, grown ass men, were listening to your songs!”

Raising your eyebrows in shock, you watched the video again. And Grace was right. It was one of those “what are you listening to?” videos, but with a bunch of men wearing suits. And at least half of them said one of your songs. Mostly Nonsense, Espresso, Read Your Mind, and, shockingly, one of them even said one of your oldest songs.

Apart from that, the video’s caption said “should we make a Sophia Montenegro x NJ Devils collab??” and, to your absolute surprise, more than a half of the comments said “yes, collab, please!”

Which made you laugh. You were used to all sorts of people listening to your music. Kids, teens, adults, even old people sometimes, but hockey players? Those big ass men who liked to beat each other up during the games?

“That’s new, huh.”

“Apparently, people went crazy over the fact that they listen to your songs. And that’s not even the best part,” Grace squirmed. “Their marketing team reached out to your marketing team,” she pointed to herself. “And they asked you to perform at one of their charity dinners next month!”

You both yelled and jumped out of your seats to hug each other and jump around— being careful with her new Goddess braids. You were so grateful to have someone like Grace to help you out.

“This is, like, a huge thing for you, honey,” Grace teared up a little bit. She cried almost every time you got a new job. “They want to set up a meeting with you, nothing too fancy. They said something about the end of the hockey season and whatever that means, they want you in it.”

“That’s awesome, right?” You smiled. “I’m certain that you said yes already but I’m still going to ask you. Did you?”

“Duh, ‘course I did. You have a meeting with,” she looked at her phone again, reading something. “Shanon Anand tomorrow morning.”

“I love you, Grace Morgan.” You whispered, looking at the woman in front of you, your heart feeling full and warm.

“I love you too, Sophia Montenegro. Let’s rock some hockey boys.”

—♡

TURNS out that Shanon Anand is a very beautiful woman, with Indian features and a smile that would make any dentist proud.

“We are very pleased to have you here, Mrs. Montenegro.” She had a bit of an accent and it was so cute.

You smiled. “Thank you. It’s an honor, really. And please, call me Sophia.”

“Alright, Sophia it is,” she smiled back. “So, I don’t know if you’re familiar with the Hockey world but we’re currently walking towards the end of the seven month season.”

“I have to be honest with you, all I know about hockey is that they skate on the ice and beat each other up. That’s about it, I fear.” You felt your face getting warm.

“It’s alright, dear, no one’s going to ask you questions about Power Plays or penalties,” Shanon laughed and you sighed, thankful. Interviews were something you actually enjoyed doing but answering questions you didn’t really know the answer sucked. “We will hold a charity gala next month, and Grace told us you are available?”

“I am, yeah,” you opened your planner, looking at your summer schedule. “I do have to be in California by the second week of April to perform at Coachella but before that, I’m free.”

“You would be needed in the last week of April, on the 30th. Is that okay?”

“I think so, yes,” you nodded. “Do you have a preference for a performance or?”

Shanon grabbed a huge binder and opened it. “Actually, we do have a few requests, I hope you and your team don’t mind them,” you nodded, grabbing a pen just in case you needed to write anything. “First things first, we’d really like it if you kept it all PG,” she smiled, looking embarrassed.

You laughed, nodding with your head. “I expected it already. Don’t worry, I’ll try to keep my dirty mouth closed.”

“Perfect, thank you. Besides that, we’d request for at least three songs, and if you could maybe sing an acoustic version of them? It’s a night event and the vibes we’re going for are like, jazz club? Sorry if it sounds confusing, we’re still working on the details.”

“Acoustic? Yeah, ‘course. Do you have any songs in mind?”

“No, we thought it’d be better if you chose them. What suits your voice better and all of that.” Shanon ran her hands through her hair and blinked twice in a row. She looked stunning, but tired.

“Alright, I’ll think of a few options.” You nodded again.

“At the end of it, we’d like to take a picture of you with a Devils jersey, if you don’t mind?” She sounded hopeful.

“I don’t, really. I’m fine with it.”

“Perfect!”

The meeting didn’t last long after that and your mind was working really fast to try to have everything perfect. You still had more than a month to prepare so you knew everything was going to be fine.

At least you hoped so.

[oatmealmika]

What Are They Like On Social Media (Headcanons)?

feat. luffy, zoro, nami, sanji, usopp, robin, franky, and brook

requests open for other things like this!

Luffy

nami made him make an Instagram account and he did so... BUT NOT WITHOUT DOWNLOADING 8 VIRUSES THE MOMENT HE GOT ONTO IT

he started clinking on every ad he saw, of course, and now he's got to pay 100000 dollars by the end of the month or else world government will find him.

he took that as a challenge.

basic, but his username is kingofthepirates or strawhat69 or something

maybe even a pun or some shit bro

follows anybody he even slightly likes and comments dumb shit on all of their posts.

ex; luffy commenting on a post robin made w chopper "can you ask him if reindeers are real?"

takes weird angled photos of his friends and posts them (ex. forehead shots)

Zoro

username is bestswordsmanofficial

usually posts training videos, but also sometimes puts on his story a cry for help to his friends cuz he got lost again

also not the most tech savy guy

i get vibes he would straight up record himself coughing to death and post it

he went viral once, actually.

was dragged by nami to be a backup dancer for one of her tiktoks

stiffly dancing

on snapchat, he uses weird filters like the broccoli one and just sent it to everyone he knew.

Nami

username is nami.venmo.me

probably makes scams in order to get money

she has two accounts; a scamming account and a real account (both under similar usernames actually)

on snapchat, she and usopp have a 200+ snapscore

they both contemplated jumping ship when they messed it up..

matching pfps with usopp too! ex.;

nami is cookie monster, usopp is screaming man

Sanji

username is lovecook_sanji

other than posting the food he makes, he also posts aesthetic photos of him crying💀

ALSO posts photos of baths with rose petals that he only made cuz he wanted to be desperate in the caption like "such a beautiful place... i just wish that... someone could share it with me... :("

out here posting "i wish i was beautiful :(" posts for attention and zoro out here commenting back "i wish you were too💀"

blocked zoro after that

tags ONLY nami and robin in his posts whenever he posts the group

"the rest of them are just some guys 🙄"

Usopp

username is god..usopp

also is in charge of the strawhat official social media accounts

nami makes the aesthetically pleasing posts while usopp posts the funny hahas

like that time luffy slipped off ship with his mouth full of food (and bcuz he can't swim w his devil fruit) so he almost sank to the bottom

plugs his personal acc on the strawhat official acc too much

luffy used to be the manager of the account but that acc got banned...

so usopp was given the job to make a new one and manage it (no luffy you can't write the caption)

Robin

username is nico.robin

mostly posts about the books she's been reading, such as reviews

formats them nice and neatly

all her posts are very aesthetically pleasing

besides book reviews, she posts a lot of chopper

she's like a mom in that way making her kids pose for photos and takes photos as much as possible

overall very pretty account

Franky

username is franky_da_cyborg

when not posting inventions, he posts crewmates doing random things

doesn't have to be weird at all most of the posts are just straight up usopp making a sandwich or robin reading

all posts are very low quality tho lol

Brook

username is musician-brook

obv posts him playing music but also posts himself saying terrible dad jokes

"singing in the shower is fun until you get soap in your mouth. then it's a soap opera."

he got the phone confiscated for that one

apart of nami's backup dancers for her tiktoks

actually works it

go grandpa go!

all right reserved. do not repost or copy my work but relogging, comments or feedback is very much appreciated! Thank you.

[bananami]

Good Things Come to Those Who Wait

characters: dabi x reader (x hawks sort of)

synopsis: you've never "finished" before and apparently dabi is the first person you thought to ask to help rectify that issue. somehow hawks gets roped into all of this, and not even in the way he wishes. poor hawks. maybe next time bby. (2k)

warnings: 18+/mdni, MAJOR SPOILERS BELOW IF YOU'RE NOT CAUGHT UP ON THE LAST SEASON, anyways onto the good stuff - fingering, masturbation, a LOT of dirty talk, dabi says fuck a lot, implied threesome, recording and technically sexting, praise kink AND degradation kink, dabi is a little mean at certain points, somewhat implied yandere on hawks and dabi's end if you squint, reader is referred to with feminine pronouns and terms, reader is implied to have female anatomy

a/n: this took on a whole ass life of it's own. seriously hawks was never going to be a part of this but then I thought hmmm that could work. SERIOUSLY SPOILERS AFTER THIS. i am not responsible for what you read. you are responsible for the media that you choose to consume. i've given ample warnings on content and spoilers. if you're sticking around, HAVE FUN. and no i did not proof read this... xxx

"You want me to do what?"

"I'm not gonna say it again."

"Then I'm not gonna teach you."

"Touya!" You whined. "C'mon, I never ask you for anything- don't give me that look, I don't! I've never enjoyed it, I'm not asking you to show me, just maybe give me some pointers."

Dabi opens his phone to scroll through anything he can to distract himself from the effects of the conversation. It's bad enough hearing you talk about sex, let alone having to make eye contact with you at the same time. "Doll, I hate to break it to you, but if I'm being honest, it's probably got nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that you tend to date morons who think that if they grope around enough the clit will magically appear."

You scrunched your nose. "That was crass."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He pokes at your forehead, knocking you off kilter and falling back onto the other side of the couch, before going back to scrolling through his phone. "You want me to help you get off and you think me mentioning the clit is crass? Make it make sense."

You wished he wouldn't word it that way, even if it technically was exactly what you were asking from him. "Like I said, I'm not asking you to show me how to do anything, I just a little advice to make it better."

"It takes two to tango, baby. You being good at it doesn't mean they will be. You're putting it all on yourself and you can't do that."

"Ok..." you pause for a moment, gathering the courage to even whisper the next few words that cross your lips, "what about when I do it myself?"

That makes Dabi pause, his attention drawn immediately away from his phone and back onto you. "What do you mean when you do it yourself?"

You huff, getting slightly irritated with his line of questioning, as though it isn't obvious what you're saying. "Ok look, we've been friends for a long time and there's no one else that I trust enough to have this conversation with." Your fingers together as you attempt to keep eye contact with him while speaking. "I have a hard time...finishing."

"Why?" There it was. No judgment, no laughing, no making you feel uncomfortable or awkward. Dabi was straightforward and you knew that no matter what you asked, he would find a way to accommodate for you.

"I don't know," you admit, "it's like I get right there and think it's gonna happen and then it just doesn't."

Dabi is silent for a long time. He looks lost in his head, leaving you unsure on what to say. When he finally speaks it leaves you with a bit of relief. Because he again sounds genuinely curious. Although a little strained.

Unbeknownst to you, that may be because of the raging hard on Dabi is trying to keep from getting any worse or more noticeable.

"What are you using?"

"I've tried literally everything. I even bought one of those cute little vibrators from that place you and Keigo always talk about."

Fuck. That's the last thing he needed to hear. Wait until he told Hawks. He'd probably kick Dabi's ass for not calling him immediately. He'd probably do a lot worse after finding out what Dabi was about to offer without shooting the fucker an invite.

"Maybe you just need someone to walk you through it."

"What, like...like you do it for me."

"Like I'll tell you what to do, and if that still doesn't work then we can improvise."

You sit stock still, wondering what this would mean for your friendship with Dabi if you were to go through with it. But he was offering, he wouldn't do that if he thought it would be a bad idea. Would he?

No.

No, you trusted Dabi. That's why you came to him for this. And if he thought this was a good idea, then it had to be.

So you shook your head. You swore his eyes turned five shades darker.

"Lay down."

You do as your told almost immediately, and it doesn't go without acknowledgement.

"Good girl, I'm not gonna touch you just yet, I'm just gonna help you out of these. That alright, baby?" And you shake your head without any hesitation this time.

Dabi's finger skim the top of your jeans until they find the button to undo them. He pulls them do slowly, your panties with them, until they're completely off your legs. He drops your jeans to the floor but your eyes widen just a bit when he brings your panties to his nose and he takes a deep breathe. The embarrassment hits you full force. He slips them into his pocket, and you just know you're not getting them back.

"Open those legs and let me see you, doll." Clearly you don't move fast enough, because Dabi grabs both of your ankles to pull them apart, setting one leg up over the top of the couch, and the other bent in the opposite direction, your foot and ankle laid against his lap.

"Show me what you usually do, pretty girl. Put on a show for me."

You don't know how you can be both so embarrassed and confident at the same time, but it's something about his words that make you feel so much at once. Your fingers begin their usual dance against your skin, and it does nothing but spur him on.

"There you go, pretty baby just needs some guidance doesn't she? Fucking rub your clit for me, just how you like it, show me."

Your fingers rub against your clit, and it makes your body hot having his eyes right on your most sensitive parts. You can feel it building inside you, heightening when his eyes find yours and he smirks. "What do you want? Need me to tell you how pretty that pussy is? You want some praise, you little slut? A little degradation? You like when I call you my good little slut? I bet you fucking do. Shove two fingers into the pussy, let me see you take them."

Your head is fuzzy as you do what he says. Your fingers aren't very long, but they get enough of the job done. Dabi's words do more of the work than anything.

"Fuck, listen to the wet cunt, pull your fingers out, rub your clit again. That's right, baby, make a mess for me."

You keep at it for a while, but it's not until you get to the closest you've ever been to cumming that you realize it's not gonna work. You can feel it, and you want it so bad you're practically crying, but there's just something missing.

Dabi catches on quickly. "No go, baby?" He teases you. "You need to cum so bad, don't you?" You can't do anything but keep moving your fingers and shaking your head.

He lets you go a little longer, savoring the tears glistening in your eyes. And then he's pulling at your wrist, yanking your hand up toward his face, and wrapping his lips around your fingers. The same two that were just inside you.

The audible gasp that falls from your mouth does nothing to quell the growing excitement inside him. He's licking your fingers clean, groaning at the taste of you on his tongue. He pulls them from his mouth, his eyes heavy with lust.

"Any of those shitty little boyfriends get a taste straight from the source?" You look at him with confusion written all over your face, and he rolls his eyes. "Your pussy, any of them ever eat it? Or did they skip the foreplay? The look on your face is telling me all I need to know. Their loss, doll. Taste so fucking good, could spend hours with my tongue inside you."

It's his fingers ghosting over your clit that makes you almost choke. You have to shove your hand against your mouth to keep from being too loud.

"Don't you fucking dare," Dabi's voice is practically seething, "let me hear every fucking noise I make come from those lips. Made me wait this fucking long, you owe me that."

Your hand is forcibly removed from your hand and pinned at your side.

"Keep it there." He commands. And then two of his fingers are slipping inside of you. "Such a fucking cocktease, you know that? Have me and Keigo practically drooling over you and you wanna choose a bunch of fuckboys instead? They can't even get you off. Now you're coming to me wanting to cum. Fuck you. Beg."

"Please, please, please," you don't hesitate. And all of a sudden all you can think about is Keigo. And Dabi. And Keigo and Dabi. "Need to, please, please-"

"Fuck, you're squeezing. So fucking tight. What are you thinking about, huh? Is it because I mentioned Keigo." You can't help it. "There you go again, baby, does he make you wet too? I bet you wish he was here to help too."

It's a fleeting thought, but Dabi can't help himself. Hawks would be pissed if he missed this. He tries facetime, but no answer. Sorry fuck. The next best thing will have to do.

Dabi pulls up his camera and hits record at the same time that his fingers curl and he snaps, bordering on too much and not enough.

"That's right, want it dripping all down my hand. Cry for me, little mouse, let me see those tears." His thumb plays with your clit as he focuses the camera right on the place where you and him meet. "Can't tell you how many times him and I have had to jack each other off to the thought of your pussy."

You choke on your tears, "Touya-"

"Need you to come all over my fingers, baby. Show Keigo how good I'm making you feel. You'll let him help out next time, won't you?" You don't understand why, but your brain is so foggy, and you nod vigorously, maybe to agree, maybe to clear your head, it didn't really matter at this point. "Yeah? You'll let him eat that little pussy, right? He's been dying for a taste. Is that what you want, you want us to share you?"

The thought of them sharing you is what does it. Dabi swears he's never heard a more beautiful noise than the sounds you make when you orgasm. He doesn't let up, his fingers still relentless inside you. You almost panic when you begin to feel the next wave pass over you, similar but different from the last one.

"He can lick your pretty cunt while I pound into you, hmm. Or maybe I'll let him have your pussy first since he missed out today, so long as I get to take your ass while he does. Or you think you can squeeze the both of us inside this tight pussy? A little effort, but I bet we can make it work, doll." The chuckle that leaves him is almost sadistic, and all of a sudden, you feel your body snap.

"Look how she squirts," you hear him saying, "pussy's a fucking dream." He lands a slap against it that makes you flinch from how oversensitive you feel, and hits send on the video.

The next couple of minutes are spent in silence, except for Dabi, who is whispering things like did so good, perfect for both of us, such a good girl.

Dabi makes sure your cleaned, having to pick you up and carry you to the bathroom, where he sits you against the countertop and begins running a rag over the inside of your thighs. It's distracting enough that you don't hear the vibration of his phone against the granite counter.

His smirk only grows at the message that lights across the screen.

Hawks: dICK

Hawks: im gonna kick your ass

Hawks: i'll be right over

[lieswetell]

IFHY (Jordan Li x Alt!Reader) PT 1

Tags~ roommate au, enemies to lovers, alt reader, tattooed reader, slow burn, supe!reader, afab!fem!reader

Warnings~ angry sex, jordan might be a lil mean, porn w plot bc im freaky like that, drugs, alcohol, gay shit

Monday, August 7th

“It’s only one semester. This will be over before you know it,” Mia said.

You want to hear her out and try to be optimistic about the situation, but it’s complicated. Having your own dorm was rare in Godolkin. Students who did usually paid an ungodly amount for the extra privacy or were gifted one because of their current sponsors. For you, in your previous two years, it had been a mixture of both.

“This is bullshit.” You complain and have to force yourself not to roll your eyes at your phone.

Mia hadn’t done anything wrong. She was doing everything she could to get you what you wanted. However, it wasn’t playing out in your favor this time. You were still in your dorm, trying to cling on to that last bit of single dorm life you could, even though you were moments away from the move.

“Look. I love you, but there isn't anything else I can do. Some of these kids will probably be out in a few months.” Mia tried to help you look on the bright side of the situation.

You have yet to respond to what your assistant was telling you. Instead, you just kept looking around the now-empty dorm with a mournful gaze.

“Shetty says it’s a large roo-” Mia added.

“My room was plenty big enough,” You complained again. This time, the words came out in a sort of whine that would remind anyone else of a toddler.

 You got up from the floor and wiped your hands on your pants. After taking a deep breath, you closed the last bin in your room.

“One semester.”  You sighed.

“One semester,” Mia said, her voice a lot more positive than yours.

“When are you recording that video for-”

“Alright, look at the time the moving team is here. Can’t be late.” You cut her off and blew her a kiss before hanging up on her.

The moving team wasn’t anywhere near your room, and you knew that. If you focused, you could hear everyone in the building. There wasn’t a trace of dickheads with whistles anywhere near you.

The Godolkin University moving team usually consisted of sophomore students with too much strength to know where to put it. Many were from various clubs or programs that forced them to help incoming students. 

You started to stack your bins and luggage outside of your room on your own. Typically, the moving team would assist the students. Still, it was effortless for you to carry the items, and you thought if you looked around your dorm for any longer, you might burst into tears. That wasn’t very productive or good for your image if anyone were to see it. So you popped in your earbuds and started to lift the bins. When finished you put the label on your crate 465.

 With the headphones in your ears, you didn’t notice just how much more lively it was. Most of your floormates were in other single dorms with other upper-level students. So you would only really run into a few people if any, daily. With the influx of incoming students moving in, you would easily have trouble avoiding anyone. According to your assistant Mia, every dorm room was filled(yayyyy godolkin for not allowing students to live off campus).

After skipping an array of songs, Spotify somehow thought would suit your style, someone poked you on the shoulder.

“You’re 17#, right? Big fan, honest.”The boy said. Something you noticed everyone said after they wanted to snap a quick picture with someone. You couldn’t complain, though you had no proof this person was lying to you.

“Nice to meet you.” You said and copied the same amount of excitement. The perfect amount to seem genuine but still cool enough to feel above them in that weird way you can only get from social media. You extended your hand, and he shook it eagerly.

You didn't feel that way, of course. That’s just the game and how you needed to perform. All to get where you needed to be. Being a hero was a machine full of moving parts, and Mia has been training you since you were fourteen.

“Can I get a picture?” He asked, and you nodded before he could get the sentence out.

Always…

“Always always…” you answered happily. You quickly adjusted your hair and gave the boy a side hug.

The selfie came out nice. Cute and wholesome. You made sure he tagged you on the picture and used a few of your hashtags. You gazed around, wondering who was assisting him with the move. He just looked around at your bins before looking back up at you.

“Is there anything fragile in there?” He asked awkwardly. It seems he hadn't shaken off the nerves from meeting you. It was so silly to you. You weren’t Homelander or Queen Maeve.

“Yeah, the fragile stuff is in that box right there. Marked fragile in bold red tape…”

The boy then looked back at you with a look you couldn’t place. Before you could even realize what was about to happen, his arms stretched out to unnatural lengths as if he were made of rubber. He lifted all of your bins simultaneously. He wrapped and stacked them into the carts and secured them as if his arms were bungee cords. It was astonishing. You had never seen that power before, and although it was slightly disgusting, it was cool.

Just as you went to pat him on the back, a box on top crashed to the floor. You heard the glass shatter and knew instantly it was the fragile box he so kindly placed on top of everything to avoid it getting crushed. Just my luck. That was definitely the bong in there that you’ve had for a few years. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I've been stretched out all day. Things are starting to fall out.” he apologized genuinely.

“Lemme guess you are usually super tight?”

Your roommate was finished moving all of her things to the other side of the room. It definitely started as a struggle, but after a bit of time, Jordan started to get the hang of it. Early in the process, he was just bitching to himself about having to do this in the first place. He didn't really have anyone to complain about it to. His friends were rooming with each other, and he was the only one stuck rooming with a new person.

 His parents didn't understand his frustrations, and instead, they were just happy he would be rooming with a girl. Jordan tried explaining his irritation to Brink, but that was also a no-go. All Brink did was reframe the situation by saying it could somehow make Jordan a better hero.

“Are there seriously no fucking quads in this place?” Jordan complained to no one.

He sat on his loveseat on his couch and scrolled on his phone. He debated not being in the room when his new roommate arrived. Jordan heard that people had done that, but he was too nervous to do it himself. What if you stole something? What if you wanted to put your stuff on his side? Maybe you were a weird freshman? Or worse, a fan of him?

He sat back on the couch. His feet were planted firmly in front of him, and he scrolled on his phone. It was a position he often found himself in. In this form, his feet were actually able to reach the floor when he sat all the way back on the couch comfortably. In the other one, her feet dangled and gave off a less intimidating look than the one he was currently in.

There was a soft knock on the door. Jordan rolled his eyes and stayed in his position. Why would he open the door? If they were supposed to be moving in, they surely would have a key, right? He looked at his door open. Jordan wasn’t really sure what to expect to be standing in the doorway. 

When the ugly beast finally reared its head, Jordan finally exhaled. He hadn’t realized he was holding his breath until you waved at him.

“Hi” You said

It’s all you can offer him at the moment. The little helper you had assisting you barged in soon after you greeted Jordan. Jordan didn't even say anything to you. He just looked at you from his spot on the loveseat then his eyes trailed over to the freshman who couldn’t maintain eye contact with you.

“Looks like! Holy shit Jordan”

“Yeah.” He just nodded, confirming that he was indeed Jordan Li

The freshman stood awkwardly with your things and stared at Jordan. The interaction was just already a lot weirder than it needed to be. So you stood at the door and tried to think of a way to intervene in the impromptu staring contest.

“Thanks. You can just leave it right here. I can do the rest.” You thanked him with a big smile

With another resounding crash, he let go of the bins, and you winced. Jordan even was taken aback by the sound and rolled his eyes

“Are you sure, ma’am?” he asked 

He sounded genuine even though he treated your belongings like they were indestructible. You buffered for a moment and realized what he said

“Ma’am? How old do you think- never mind, just leave thanks.” You shooed him away and exhaled softly

“Bye”

He watched you. You unpacked your things, and he stayed put and just watched you. He was cycling through so many things in his head. Being so last minute, this situation didn't give him any time to prepare. The only thing he did was clean and move his shit to one side of the room. He was grateful that he could at least recognize you from the ranking. The unknown was scary like that. Jordan knows you have been slowly climbing your way to the top. Your reputation was squeaky clean. Your brand was sweet, innocent, and confident. 

Your brand didn't mean he trusted you, though. Anyone with more than two fucking brain cells at this school knew that your ‘brand’ or ‘online presence’ meant absolutely nothing. Just because you waltz in here with your big smile and wave doesn't mean he will let his guard down. Roommate or not, you still had the potential to be a big fucking dick.

“Yeah, just don’t touch any of my shit, and we should be fine.” Jordan said without looking up from his phone.

He sat comfortably slumped on the sofa. The uninterested appearance he’s in pissed you off. Oh, so he’s just like this? You could do this, though. You wouldn’t let him see that you were frustrated. People like him lived off of that shit, and you wouldn’t give him what he wanted. You just nodded and gave him another smile, one real enough to be convincing.

“I understand. You do have some nice things. Probably wouldn’t want anyone getting into it either.” You said in that cheerful voice that you had been trained to perfect. 

That time, Jordan did look at you. He was now thoroughly annoyed and over the roommate situation. In his eyes, he tried. In the twenty minutes you had been in the room, Jordan considered everything he had done ‘trying’. This situation wouldn’t work, though. He just wasn’t built to share rooms with a random person.

-

-

-

Wednesday, September 27th

“Jesus Christ, do you ever fucking fucking knock?!” Jordan shouted

You did knock. You dented the door to your room because you were banging on the door for about ten minutes. You even shot Jordan a few texts saying when you would return to the dorm. Of course, she hadn’t responded to any of them; she never did.

So you said fuck it and broke the lock on your door and walked into the room. Jordan was riding some junior in her bed. The sight wasn’t new to you, so you were unfazed. Seemingly to you, Jordan never really cared about you seeing her naked. It was more of the fact you were interrupting her that was the problem. In the two months you have been rooming with Jordan, you have walked in on her having sex four times.

The first time, it came as a shocker. You squealed and covered your eyes, immediately leaving the room and shooting her a few apology texts. When you left, Jordan just continued on like it was nothing. Like you were just a temporary pause. This time wasn’t like that. You walked in and closed the door behind you.

So you waved at the man who was underneath Jordan on the bed. He looked at you with a confused look, then turned to look back at Jordan, who was bewildered.

“You're not usually my type, but I think I could be down for both of you,” The man said, then looked back up at Jordan curiously.

You just walked toward your desk, sat down, and started up your laptop.

She climbed off him and huffed, “Get out”.

Then the man shuffled awkwardly around the room and tried to pick up his clothes. He slipped the condom off and didn't know what to do with it, so he tried to hand it to Jordan. She pointed towards the door, so he just nodded and held it as he left the room. His clothes were still crumpled in his other hand, covering his dick. You shook your head slightly, knowing that type of thing was far too normalized in this school.

“Do you purposely do that?” Jordan asked you sharply. It was more of an accusation. He barely spoke to you, and when he did, it was always intending to fight.

“Do what?” You asked and logged into the Godolkin portal.

“Wait until I’m using the room to appear out of thin air” She complained and stepped closer to you.

Whenever Jordan spoke to you, it was like they were a nagging little voice that you had to physically restrain yourself from losing your cool with. You didn’t want to risk an argument with Jordan, no matter how much of a bitch she was. It just wasn’t worth it. It would be optimistic to think that Jordan wouldn’t somehow get you lousy press from the situation. It was also optimistic of you to think that one day, Jordan would just stop trying to fight the fact that they would have to live with someone.

Every day you felt like you were seconds from Jordan finally saying fuck it and starting beef with you publicly just to fuck up your rank. Being ranked seventeen wasn’t the best you could be, but to most people, being in the top one hundred was quite an accomplishment. Job security was a hard thing for supes to find, and you weren’t going to fuck up your brand just because Jordan was having a bad day.

“Oh, please. I texted you, Jordan. Multiple times,” It came out with a little more emotion than you intended. Patience wasn’t your strength today.

“You didn’t,” She said flatly.

You huffed and pulled your phone out of your bag. When you pulled up the text chain to show her. You looked away awkwardly when she turned around to grab her phone. For some reason seeing her ass suddenly felt invasive, although she was so chill about it. Once again, she was more pissed about the fact she didn't cum.

“That’s not even my number.” She showed you her Apple ID and rolled your eyes.

“Who’s fault is that?” You asked her this time; your tone couldn’t have been mistaken for anything but annoyed.

Jordan realized what she did and grabbed your phone out of your hand. You scoffed at the action and tried to snatch it back, but she was faster than you. Probably in both forms, unfortunately. Jordan just updated the contact info and handed you back your phone(which you snatched out of her hands immediately).

“You could’ve knocked,” Jordan said, and you did a sharp inhale.

You looked up at her, then back down at your phone at the updated info. It was hard not for you to be pissed about the fact he lied to you. So many arguments could’ve been avoided, but of course, she couldn’t even give you her number.

“I did. For about ten minutes. Maybeyouweretoobusycreamingondicktohearaboutit” 

The words came out as a rushed whisper. The struggle of trying to hold your anger was starting to become not only a mental challenge but a physical one.

“What did you say?”Jordan asked. This time, he almost seemed kind of excited, which didn't help you calm your nerves in the slightest.

“The locks broken, by the way. You locked me out, so I had to break it open. I’ll schedule a maintenance worker to check it out around five,” You told him. The facade was back up. You were no longer spewing attitude at him.

The maintenance request was sent, and Jordan was left confused at the sudden change in demeanor. He was excited for a second that it seemed you finally had a moment of real fucking emotion with him. Jordan would much rather be alone in his dorm, but your unwavering positivity threw him off more than he intended.

Jordan could recall a few times he would complain and rant about you to his friends during smoke seshes. It had only been two months, but he felt like he wasn’t even rooming with a natural person. Something about you was too perfect, too clean, just all around, too bland. He was excited to talk to a person for that quick moment there. It's not the brand you posted for everyone to see. 

He went back to the other side of the room in defeat. He sat on top of his bed. Jordan never stopped looking at you. You slipped up, and maybe that gave him hope(he would never admit it).

“I need the room at five,” Jordan said.

You furrowed your brows and looked over at the calendar on the wall. Each day that passed, scribbled out with a blue Sharpie. You shook your head and looked over at him.

“You have class. It’s Wednesday,” You said matter of factly.

Jordan rolled his eyes and mumbled

.“No, I don’t.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. He could be so petty sometimes for no reason, and this was one of those moments.

“Did you just disagree with me just because?” You asked him.

Jordan couldn’t think of a comeback or words to say. You talked to him in that weirdly positive tone despite clearly being irritated with him again. Maybe his dick twitched a little, but he ignored that.

“Jordan, put some clothes on, okay?” 

“Fuck you”

“Your dick is out”

“Have a great day”

Maintenance fixed the door problem by 5:13 pm. It was a simple fix. A new doorknob was installed, but a couple of dents from your early frustration remained a reminder. Afterward, you were alone in your dorm, struggling to wait forty minutes to join a lecture.

  It was a struggle not to nod off in front of your computer. Online classes always felt like a good idea when you signed up for them, but you soon realized they were a trap. It is a carefully crafted trap for you to waste your time on the course because you couldn't keep your eyes open long enough to listen to your professor drone on about the importance of… You fell asleep.

You needed the relief anyway. It was a struggle to keep holding up the illusions you were. The influx of incoming students fucked you over. Having a roommate who hated you meant you were always using your powers. You couldn’t trust him not to try and ruin your brand. The only times you would have a break from having to cast an illusion was when Jordan was out doing whatever the fuck he did besides training and sulking.

Illusions fell around you—your side of the room that was once pale blue and pink warped into black and purple. Your hair, which once seemed to be tied tightly in a bun, fell around your shoulders. The pink sweater you wore was replaced with a black hoodie you had for years. The illusions you had concealing your tattoos shattered. The ink from your arm sleeve peaked out from the wrist of your hoodie.

-

-

-

“Who are you texting?”Andre asked 

It was late. Jordan sat on the couch in his friends' dorm and tried not to be bitter that there were only three bedrooms. He typed in his phone, angry you weren’t responding. Why does he have to deal with this? He’s pretty sure when he leaves that, all three of them just crash in the living room in a pile like cavepeople anyways. Andre’s room was always too fucking clean for anyone to actually stay in there.

He leaned over on the couch to try and take a peak at Jrdan’s phone. Jordan leaned away, mildly irritated with his friend. Andre just shrugged and made a face at Cate. Cate rolled her eyes, already knowing where this conversation was going to go. It was the only thing Jordan talked about the past couple of weeks.

“My hell of a roommate,” Jordan complained and rolled his eyes.

You hadn’t responded to the last ten texts he sent. He was trying to be better to you. He might've felt a bit guilty about giving you the wrong number for that long. So now he was trying to do what you would have done for him. He planned on bringing the same guy from earlier back over, but you wouldn’t respond to him.

“Oh, she cant be that bad?” Cate said, trying to be positive about the situation.

“Cute, you guys are texting,” Andre whispered.

Jordan heard him, however, and switched. Before Andre had a chance to react, Jordan slapped him in the back of the head. The touch was light but quick. Andre chuckled softly and then raised both of his hands.

“Well, I’m trying to tell her I'm on my way back to the dorm. Might need it in a few,” Jordan explained and put his phone away.

“Why do you look so stressed?” Luke asked.

To be honest, he was the only one not caught up on the whole Jordan hating her roommate thing. He thought she would get over it in a week, but clearly, that wasn’t the case. Jordan still hated you basically for existing at this point. Luke tried to lock in on the situation, but he was still pretty high from the session that just ended.

“She isn’t fucking responding,” Jordan whined.

“It’s fine. It’s only been like ten minutes,” Luke stated.

Luke’s eyes looked around the room for whatever the fuck he was missing. Cate just laughed beside him.

“Since the last text I sent. I texted her five hours ago,” Jordan added, her arms crossed in front of her.

“It’s probably nothing,” Luke assured her, although he didn't understand why the situation was that. 

Serious. Cate understood it, though. Even if, at the time, Jordan didn’t understand, she could have seen it already. Cate had a weird way of just knowing.

“Yeah, what are you so worried about?”Andre asked, raising his eyebrows in a suggestive way.

Jordan looked away and flipped him off. Cate and Andre shared another look, and Jordan wanted to flip the couch over. She didn’t though

“Fuck off, Dre.”

“Who is she again? Freshman?” Cate asked

“No, junior.” Jordan answered.

“Who is it?”Luke asked, hoping that maybe that would explain Jordan’s frustration.

When Jordan answered, none of them had much of a reaction, which wasn’t very satisfying for Jordan. Andre didn’t even know who you were talking about(he didn't pay attention to the rankings much). Cate just nodded, taking in the info. It was always funny to her how the most liked people could be some of the worst. Luke didn't run with Jordan’s opinion of her roommate. He knew how dramatic Jordan could sometimes be, and he was pretty sure she would've hated any roommate she was assigned to just because they were an inconvenience to Jordan.

Jordan didn't like the feeling of being interrogated, so the hangout was cut shorter than normal. Once she answered one question, it was like he opened Pandora’s box of bullshit, and everyone wouldn’t get the spotlight off of her. So, she gave up on reaching out to the guy from earlier and instead was banging on the door of her dorm room like a mad woman.

“Dude, open the fucking door!”Jordan shouted.

He didn't want to break the door again, but the longer he stood outside, the more appealing of an idea it became. Inside the dorm, you were still fast asleep at your desk. The exhaustion from overusing your powers took a severe toll on your body. You had been out cold the entire time. All illusions previously placed on you and your things were deactivated.

“C’mon, this is really petty. Just open up.” Jordan said again, but you couldn’t hear him.

A hard alarm sounded in your ear. You shook your head awkwardly, then scrambled to check your laptop.

Take your pill

You nodded and stood up to take your birth control. You made it three steps before you fell because of the loud bang at your door. Shit. Jordan’s voice yelled something behind the door that you couldn’t quite make out at the moment. All you knew was that you needed to hurry and get all the illusions back up. You waved your hands a bit, trying to tap into Jordan’s psyche once you were confident enough that the illusions were back up, and you dry-swallowed your birth control and made your way to the door.

Act normal

“Hey, sorry I got caught up in studying?” You answered the door with a smile.

“Fine, whatever. I texted you, though.” Jordan looked at you, partially confused

It didn't make sense to him. You went hours without answering him, and your excuse was that you got caught up studying. What the fuck? You didn’t even look tired? Jordan hated you. You closed the door behind him and sat on your bed.

[stay-tiny-ville]

Christopher Bang Chan

Summary ~ More of my delulu little ideas on paper for Bang Chan (or just dating head cannons I have for Christopher Bang Chan)

A.N. - I wouldn’t say Channie is my bias in Stray Kids but I do know I love him with my whole heart and he deserves so much love and care

A.N. 2 - this was the first of the group I wrote for and I got lost in my feels and I actually cried a bit I love him and they kind of jump from topic to topic lmao

A.N. 3 - I KNOW CHAN IS ON DELULU STAYS ABOUT FANFIC AND SHIT AND IF I EVER GET CAUGHT BEST KNOW I AM SIMPLY POOFING FROM EXISTENCE

————————————————————

Baby, Babygirl are names I know many many people agree on him calling you and I honestly hated the name until I truly thought about him

Swings your attached hands when walking and would make you do spins by lifting his hand sometimes or would swing your hands over your shoulder so he’s resting his arm on your shoulder and pulls you to his side

He would hold you by your hips a lot

Would move you by your hips too, like when he would try to scoot behind you to get something he would just lift you by your hips and place you beside him as he passes by

Overall loves to lift you

Every so often he would lift you from the bed to the car

You’re shifted so your facing him while sitting and he’s holding your hand

Would play soft music and in the soft atmosphere you two would whisper to not shatter the silence

Pulls out a blanket from the back seat and cover you while you slowly drift in and out

Parks the car at a quaint location, perfect sky view

Carries you bridal style to the trunk and sets you on the bed of pillows and blankets

He lays on his back and tucks you into his left side, head on his shoulder/neck/left side of his chest

His left arm is folded back to hold your head and runs his hands through your hair

His right arm runs along the expanse of your open skin on your arms/waist/hips and would bring it up to your cheek while staring at you

You feel lost in his voice and how comfortable you feel with him that you drift again while he whispers to you about the boys or comebacks or his day or just his love for you

As the sun rises/sets he gets photos of the beautiful view for you and some of you on his phone for himself

As you struggle to stay awake to spend more time with your boy, he smiles gently and whispers “You can sleep now, love, it’s ok”

Sobs.

He’s the type to not only make playlists for you but songs about you, for you

I think he, compared to some others in this group, would be less obvious about it being about you or direct with the lyrics

I think when he shows it to you, while you sit on his lap in the recording room, you of course love it and when he says it’s about you, you probably cry

He just casually mentions that the chord progression or the overall feel of the song is how he felt meeting you or falling in love with you and you whip around to face him and he just stares into your soul

You fall into his arms and he wraps one arm fully around your back and the other behind your head and just laughs his gorgeous, joyous laugh

Knows all the boyfriend rules ofc (sidewalk rule, holding the cart at the store, etc.)

He’s a natural

Sometimes when he has insomnia you try to stay with him for as long as possible since that’s really the only time you see him, at night, since he’s busy a lot

He really really appreciates it but one time you lay or sit on his lap and fall asleep on him while trying really hard to stay awake and once he knows you’re out he cries because he’s just so overwhelmed with emotion and love

You’re his biggest fan (personally I believe when he calls stays babygirl through the camera he’s only talking to you)

If you learned his other language be it his native australian or korean (and be it for him or not) he would probably cry

No matter what, you always end the day in his arms, angry or not and i personally believe he’s not the type to go to bed angry

If you’re the type of person to fall off your phone/social media for days/weeks on end like me I think he’d understand but would want to have your location just to know you’re ok

Would probably call you when he knows your done with school/work on those types of days

Biggest, warmest, whole body hugs where all you feel is him

Knows your smell/touch/voice by heart and smiles whenever he gets a sense of it

If you’re the chaotic, wanders off on their own a bit/ child wanderer type, he’d gain another parent instinct of grabbing on to you while continuing whatever he’s doing/ talking to without pause

I think about it a lot more recently on how he doesn’t love himself and it scratches at my heart raw and the only way I think I can ever die peacefully is by knowing someone taught him to love himself the way I love and absolutely adore him as do millions of other people.

[justmeinadaze]

I Have Nothing (If I Don't Have You) (Steddie X You)

A/N: Like I said last week, I was watching the music video for "Queen of the Night" by Whitney Houston from the soundtrack of this movie and it gave me this Steddie idea.

I have a few ideas I can take this! I seriously love protective Steddie. Probably something to do with my PTSD and need to feel safe lol Anyway... I hope you enjoy it! I dedicate this to @unfocused81 <3

Warnings: No smut (yet😈) but angst for sure. Security Steddie and Singer female reader. It is mentioned that Y/N does drink excessively and do drugs. Her boyfriend is a douchebag and assaults her (mentions of smacking and grabbing her, yelling at her, and calling her names) that results in Steddie intervening. There is also a bit of a riot at one of shows that they protect her from (kind of like that scene in the movie where people jump on stage and chaos ensues).

I wouldn't really call this dark themes but reader definitely has some things going on and is struggling a lot right now.

Work count: 5906

“What kind of security work have you guys done before?” 

Your manager leans against the outside of his desk as he continues to scan through the messages on his phone.

“Oh, um, we’ve done a lot before for the bar in our town and most recently a rock band in—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”, the manager cuts Steve off as he speaks. “That’s all well and good. Look, I’m going to level with you. This is essentially expensive babysitting. Y/N is a handful. Our last security detail quit when her last party at her house caused a riot in the streets of LA.”

“A riot?”, Eddie turned to his friend and raised an eyebrow inquisitively. 

The guy sets his phone down, sighing with impatience. “Yes. Obviously, you two don’t read or watch the news…which is good. Saves me the headache. Now, do you want the job or not?”

Both boys glance at each other before looking towards the man again. “Um, yeah sure. I mean it pays, right?”

“That’s the spirit. Ok, she’s at the studio downstairs right now recording…or at least that’s what she’s supposed to be doing. Go introduce yourselves. Glad to have you aboard.”, he rolls his eyes as he shoos them out of his office.

“Steve are you sure about this?”, Eddie asks as they head for the elevator. 

“Yeah. Come on, Munson. This is our ticket to high-rate clients and more money! We can handle one little girl.”

As soon as they get off on the right floor, they are met with extremely loud music and giggles from the studio room. A tall, lanky kid leans back in his chair extending his hand to greet both boys. 

“Hey, are ya’ll the security? I’m Devon. She’s in there ‘getting inspired’.” Their eyes follow his finger as he points behind the glass where you and some of your friends were strewn around the floor. “Good luck, gentlemen.”, he sings. 

Both men carefully tip toe around arms and legs to find you with your eyes closed, a half smirk painted across your lips. 

“Uh, Miss Y/L/N? I’m Steve Harrington and this is Eddie Munson. We’re your new personal security guards.”

“Hmm…sounds sexy.”, you slur. Your glassy, drug fueled eyes look up to meet theirs. “At least Jack hired some good-looking ones this time. Who is who?”

“Maybe, if you stood up and actually greeted us, you would have heard who is who the first time.”, Eddie chided. 

Your eyes fully open as your head tilts in his direction. No one ever had the balls to scold you like that since you became famous. It was usually “Yes ma’am” this or “Anything you want, ma’am. We’ll make it happen.”. Rising to your feet, you fully take them in through your haze. 

They both were attractive especially with that air of confidence you hadn’t seen in a long time. Your current boyfriend was cocky but definitely not confident. Everyone else around you seemed so fucking timid and you hated it. 

“Eddie. Steve.”, Steve repeated, pointed to his friend then himself. 

He was dressed head to toe in what you would call “conventional” clothes; nothing designer or anything to make him stand out. You could tell under the button up white, short sleeve shirt that he did have muscles that could protect you physically if need be. The jeans and sneakers he donned didn’t give you any new information that could tell you something about him except he probably didn’t make a whole lot of money. 

Eddie was more or less the same with a much more grunge fashion sense that, to you, he pulled off well. You pointed to his Metallica t-shirt with your finger. 

“My music isn’t like theirs. It might make your ears bleed.”

“As long as I can still see you and see you’re safe, I think I’ll survive.”

He’s quick witted. I like that…

“Ok. We’ll give it a try. Tomorrow, you’ll meet me at my house and I can tell you more about what you’ll be doing.”

***

“Steven Harrington, have you read half this stuff?”, Eddie sighs as he leans forward and places his elbows on his knees as he points at things on his laptop.

“She’s been arrested twice; once for possession and another for disorderly conduct where she was found having sex with someone while she was drunk in public. The cops have been called to her house multiple times due to, honestly, take your fucking pick. Her boyfriend was arrested just last week for sucker punching one of her fans for ‘getting too close’. How are we supposed to protect someone who invites all this chaos into her life.”

“I don’t know, Ed. The same way you protect anyone I guess.”, Steve leans back on the couch as he takes a sip from his bottle of beer. “Again, this is just a steppingstone. I’m sure after a few months of handling her, any number of high value agencies will want to hire us. WHICH MEANS…”, he glances towards Eddie. “…you need to control your Dom voice.”

The metalhead chuckles as he leans back as well. “It’s going to be hard with a fucking brat like her. Dude, she didn’t even have the common courtesy to say hello.”

“I know… I know… but just, try. For me?”

#########

It takes you awhile to open the door when they knock but when you finally do, you look completely hung over. 

“Yeah, come…come in. Do you want something to drink? Jack? Vodka? I have them all.”

“It’s 10am.”, Steve responds as he looks at his watch. 

You raise an eyebrow at him before heading for the kitchen and grabbing the whole bottle of Jack Daniels. “If you’re boring, Eddie. Just say that.”

“Steve. I’m Steve.”

“Right now, I don’t care—”

“We can tell.”, Eddie growls.

You blink as you look up at him. You’ve never wanted to toy with a man so bad in your life. He wasn’t even trying to hide that your disrespect was bothering him and honestly you couldn’t get enough. 

“I’m sorry, gentlemen. I don’t do mornings. Unfortunately, my manager insists on scheduling interviews for me that require me to up at this ungodly hour.” They watch you as you slump onto the couch and throw your arm over your eyes. “So, how much did Jack tell you?”

“Uh, just the basics. We watch out for you.”

“Good. It’s just following me around and making sure I don’t get swarmed or murdered. I’ll give you guys a key to my house before you leave today and when I stay at hotels I’ll do the same. You’ll most likely be staying in the same room as me anyway so…”

The sound of banging on your front door makes you cringe. “I guess I’ll get it.”, Eddie sighs as Steve’s eyes follow him. “Your makeup people are here, your highness.”

A big grin spreads across your face as you turn your head to look over at them. “I like him. Steven, you need to start stepping it up or he’ll become my favorite.”

The metalhead lazily glances towards his friend with playful wide eyes. “Well, lucky me.”

***

As snotty as your attitude was, they couldn’t deny how beautiful you were especially after your prep team was done putting you together. The makeup hid all damage you had done to yourself the night before and the outfit they had you in sexily showed off all your curves. Your eyes shifted to them, watching them as they looked around.

“No one is going to shoot me in here, boys.”

“Hm. You never know.”, Eddie exhales as he points to things. “Someone could come in through that back door behind you or because no one checks any of these people’s IDs, someone could sneak in pretending to be a hair stylist and take you out like that.”, he snaps his fingers. 

“Bags that hold all the beauty and camera equipment are big enough to hold even a rifle let alone a handgun. That’s implying someone would want to shoot you instead of stabbing or blowing you up.”, Steve followed. 

“Wow. Just charming.”

“It’s our job, Miss Y/L/N.”

“I think due to the circumstances you can call me Y/N.”, you grin. 

The producer gets your attention, walking you through the questions that would be asked and how the interview would go. The boys watched you in amazement as your personality practically changed when the camera went live. No one would ever be able to tell what you did behind the scenes or any other narrative then the one you provided. 

An hour later and after many questions, the interview ended and your face fell. 

“God, I need a drink.”

“Can we at least go over the tour first?”, your manager whined. 

“Baby!”

You excitedly got up and ran to your boyfriend’s arms. “Simon!”

Everyone in the room cringed at the heavy smacking sounds that left you two as he continued to sloppily kiss your lips. 

“Who are the new guys?”

“Babe, these are the new security guys. This is Eddie and Steve.”

They stand up to shake his hand but as Steve extends his palm the man looks down at it like the gesture was beneath him. “Yeah, listen boys, hands off, okay? She’s mine.”, you giggle as he slaps your ass.

“Come on, baby. I got a surprise for you.” You squeal as he lifts you over his shoulder and carries you towards your bedroom. 

“Y/N! We still have things to go over!”, Jack shouts as the door closes loudly. 

#########

“I want to go home, Steven. It’s 2am and they’ve been fucking in there all god damn day. At this point we shouldn’t have a client anymore because he killed her by not giving her any food or fucking water. It definitely won’t be due to her climaxing because I haven’t heard that happen yet.”

“We can’t leave until he does.”, Steve sighs. “Or she dismisses us for the evening.”

As if on cue, Simon saunters past them into the kitchen, casually opening your fridge, and begins chugging from a jug of orange juice. “Um, I’m pretty sure you two can leave. She’s not even here.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I’m assuming she climbed out the window after I crashed. She does that to escape the security teams. It’s kind of a rite of passage honestly.”

“Where would she go?”, Eddie growls. 

“Um, there’s a bar about a mile up the road. She likes to walk there for some reason.”

***

“So, pretty lady. Do you want to come back to my place tonight?”

“Ugh, no. Get off me. I just want to drink in peace.”

“Oh, come on, honey.”, the man slurred. 

“Hey! The lady said no.”, Steve’s voice echoed through the bar as he starred the man down. “Leave. Now.”

The patron held up his hands defensively, staggering back towards his table. 

“Come on, Y/N. Time for you to go home.”, Eddie motioned for the bartender to stop serving you as the other boy reached into your purse to pay him. 

“You’re my security. Not my fucking dad. I can stay here and drink if I want.”

“You’re at a bar in a nightie, shorts, and flip flops at 2 in the morning. It’s a safety concern.”

“Oh shit.”, you giggle. “I am in my nightie.” Steve roughly grips your arm and tugs you out the door towards his car. “Let me go, you fucking dick.”

A switch flips in the man’s brain; he can’t help it. For the past couple of days, he’s tolerated your disrespect but like Eddie, he hated it. They both could handle a lot but you were pushing them too far. Still holding onto your wrist, he twirls you towards the vehicle till your back hits the door. 

“Now, listen here because I’m only going to say this once. We’ve handled the tone and the blatant disregard for what we do but it ends now. Our job is to keep you safe not fucking babysit some spoiled, rich washed-up singer. This is the last time you pull a stunt like this; do you understand me?” 

Steve’s body was so close to yours you could feel his angry breath fanning your face. It had been ages since someone put you in your place like this and you’d be lying if you didn’t say you were a bit turned on. A new feeling washed over you though as your eyes scanned his face. For the first time since you entered this industry, you actually felt safe. 

They weren’t afraid to be blunt with you which compared to everyone else in your life was a nice reprieve. You knew 90% of the people in your life, given the chance, would sell you out in a heartbeat but would still stand there and tell you how perfect you were. 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?” Eddie’s voice startled you, completely unaware he was standing beside you with his hands in his pockets, glaring down at you with those same angry eyes. 

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good. Now get in the car.” 

#############

That following morning, they half expected to be fired but were surprised when you opened the front door as soon as they knocked. 

“We have to go to the studio first and then I have to get ready for the gig tonight.”, you mumbled as you swished around them, trying to get in the backseat of his car to no avail. “Can you open the door…please?”

Eddie caught it in your tone first…something wasn’t right and it had nothing to do with them. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Can we just…”, you gesture towards the car.

“HEY! When you get back tonight make sure it’s with a better fucking attitude!”, Simon yells from your front door. 

“Well maybe I won’t come back, you free loading mama’s boy!”

“Stupid bitch should learn how to talk to a man.”, he muttered under his breath as he slammed the door shut.

Steve and Eddie exchange a look before the metalhead speaks to you. “Is that something we need to handle?”

“No. He’s just being a fucking prick.”

He opens your door and you slowly slide in before both men do the same. As the car begins to move, Steve keeps checking on you in his rearview mirror. Your sunglass covered eyes remain focused on the window as you stare out into the California streets. 

“I’m sorry about yesterday. About leaving and keeping you guys out late when you didn’t have to. Simon just pissed me off and…”

“Does he talk to you like that often?”

“No. Sometimes he’s an asshole.” You flash them a sassy smirk that grows when you see Eddie try and hide his own at your sarcasm. “He’s just…hot headed, you know? He’s been through a lot.”

“And you haven’t?”

Your eyes swivel to Steve before glancing down at your hands. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

“He shouldn’t be talking to you like that, Y/N.”

“Yeah, well, neither should I so…”

“Just because you have an attitude doesn’t mean you deserve to be treated like trash. Maybe you just need someone stronger who can handle it and not take it personally.”

“Oh? And who would that be, Steve? You?”

“Aw, Munson, that’s cute. She thinks we can’t handle her.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, we’ve dealt with worse than you.”, he smiles as he turns around in his seat. “It’s you that can’t handle us. Thankfully though we aren’t in a relationship so we’ll never get to find out.”

“I never say never, gentlemen.”

****

After going over the tour dates, everything you would be doing, and everything you need, your next stop was the venue you would be performing at tonight. 

Eddie cringed as the feedback of the mic echoed around the building.

“Hey! Try plugging it into the correct port!” The young man shrugged his shoulders causing the metalhead to go over and show the boy what he was doing wrong.

“Let me guess? Rock and Roll drummer in a Metallica cover band?”, you grin at him as the mic starts picking up your voice perfectly. 

“Guitarist and our own band, not a cover band.”

“What about you, Steve? Are you musically inclined?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“What are you good at?”

“Babysitting.”, he raised his eyebrow in your direction making your smile grow. 

As the additional security from the venue finally arrived, you watched with fascination as the guys took on a more authoritative tone, telling each person where they would need to be. Time slowly dwindled till it was about twenty minutes before the show. You began pacing as you shook out your preshow jitters.

“Hey, they say they are ready for you to head towards the stage.”

You jumped at the sound of Steve’s voice. “Goddamn it! Okay, fucking thank you!” His eyes narrowed in your direction as he came in and closed the door behind him. “Can I help you with anything else?!”

“Are you alright?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re not my father, Steven, or my friend. Get the fuck out! I’ll be right out!”

The boy bites his bottom lip as he nods his head. “Yes ma’am.” As he starts to open the door, he pauses turning to face you again. “You look really beautiful, by the way. Your voice is amazing. Eddie and I have actually never heard any of your songs before today. This will be our first concert. I’m excited to see it.” 

Your wide, glassy eyes turn to look at him as he slowly begins to close the door again. 

“Steve! Thank you…”

##########

That night you gave it your all and then some. Occasionally, you would glance down at the bottom of the stage watching as Steve and Eddie’s demeanor remained focused on the task at hand. Sometimes, however, you would notice a foot tap to the beat or a head would bob to your lyrics. If this was the first time they were attending a Y/N concert, you wanted them to enjoy it and show them what you bring to the entertainment table. 

So many people when you were starting out told you that you would never make it. That your dream of becoming a singer was a pipe dream for people with “actual talent”. Since day one you always felt like you had to prove yourself, hell, even before you started singing. In your house growing up you felt like you had to fight to be seen. 

Once you crossed that threshold, everything came easier but you never stopped fighting. Fighting the fear of being nothing again, the knowledge that everyone in your circle just wanted a piece of you and what you earned. Fighting to keep everyone happy including yourself. The alcohol and drugs helped immensely or at least that’s what you believed. You thought it helped numb your brain and the pain so you could just get through every day. 

When Eddie sassed you in the studio, you knew he was different. For a while you couldn’t get a read on Steve until that night outside of the bar. The fact that neither of them had asked you to hear their demo tape or hit on you was already a point in their favor but they genuinely seemed to want to protect you so you wanted to return the favor in some way, your voice.

When the concert ended, they snuck a peak at you. Eddie was never a fan of the type of music you sang but he couldn’t deny that what you did sing went straight to his heart. Steve noticed that while you sang, it was like you transported to a different place. You seemed calmer and more in tune with yourself, making you seem more confident than when you weren’t. 

This was the first time since they met you that you genuinely seemed happy. 

Something in the atmosphere changed. Maybe it was too many booze served at the bar or just the energy of the evening but people in the crowd started chanting for an encore. You were exhausted having gone longer on your set then you were supposed to already. You gave the crowd your best smile, thanking them for coming out, and telling them how much you loved their support. 

A fan jumped on to the stage and Eddie was quick to pull him back down. Panic set in as you watched the crowd start to fight with each other and the security team jump into action. The metalhead was in front of you and you hastily gripped his arm as he scanned the area trying to find Steve. 

“Harrington?!”

After tapping his shoulder, you pointed to the corner near a wall where you saw the boy in a fist fight of his own. Eddie pushed you towards the side of the stage behind a curtain.

“Don’t move! I’ll be right back, ok?!”, he shouted over the chaos as you gave him a firm nod. 

You watched as he jumped off the platform, running to pull the man off his friend and shoving him to where you were hiding. Steve didn’t even hesitate as he lifted you into his arms and they both ran down the hallway. They didn’t stop until they reached their car and placed you in the back seat, him climbing in with you as Eddie sped away. 

“Wait…what about Jack…and everyone else?”

“No. We have to get you out and away from the building especially during a scene like that.” Steve searched through his jacket pocket for a tissue, placing it against his nose when he finally finds one. 

“Are-are you okay?”

“Yeah. Fucking asshole got me good.”

About a mile down the road, Eddie parked the car into a gas station and got out to check you both over. “What happened, Harrington? Let someone get the best of you?”, Eddie chuckled. 

“Dude, they cornered me so fast especially after I pulled him off of the venue’s security guy.”

“Did I do that? Did I do something wrong?” Their head swivel around to look at your frightened frame. “Th-that’s never happened before…I-I-I…”

“Hey, hey, hey Y/N. It’s ok. You didn’t do anything wrong. I seriously think it was just…”, Eddie shrugs. “Beer and a packed in place. People just being…too rowdy. It happens but that’s what we’re here for.”

The man throws his arms up in surprise when you suddenly tackle him, wrapping your arms around his waist as you press your head into his chest. 

“Thank you…so much.” You let him go as you turn to give Steve a hug as well. “I’m so sorry you got hurt.”

When you started to pull back, his arms came down to hold you to him. “Hey, better me than you.”, he gently sighs, “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

#######

“Oh my god! What the fuck happened?! Baby, are you okay?” Simon ran to you from his place on your couch as you and the guys entered your house. 

“The concert ended a bit roughly but I’m ok. Really…”

“Isn’t it your job to fucking protect her!?”

“Yes and we did that.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! Look at her! She’s a mess and she’s shaking!” Your boyfriend charged up to Steve who glared down at him as he continued to yell in his face.”

“Simon, leave them alone. Please, I just want to get this crap off and go to bed.”

Eddie gripped his friend’s arm as he spoke to you. “Is there anything else you need, Y/N? Do you feel safe enough for us to leave and let you rest?”

“Of course, she fucking does. I can take care of her.”

Your eyes met theirs as you nodded. “Thank you.”

“We’ll talk to Jack and everyone in the morning.” The metalhead tugs at Steve forcing him to back down from your boyfriend. He flashes you one more cursory glance before turning around and leaving you for the night. 

###########

“You boys did good last night. I don’t know what happened but you knew what to do.” Jack gave them a smile as he nodded his head in approval. “Please keep up that vigilance next week when we go on tour. I think—”

“Wait. You’re still doing the tour next week?”

Your manager looked at Eddie in confusion. “Yes? Why wouldn’t we?”

“I mean…she just went through a pretty traumatic event. I couldn’t imagine getting back up on a stage immediately after something like that.”

“Yeah, well, your security not a musician so—”

“I actually am but whatever.”

Jack sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as speaks to you. “Do you feel like you need more time?”

You didn’t even hear the man’s question. Since they picked you up and brought you to your managers office, you had been uncharacteristically quiet. You were thinking about everything including what transpired last night. It WAS incredibly scary but they did pull through and keep you safe. Not only did they look after you but each other; you appreciated that loyalty. 

Now as Eddie defended you, thinking of your well-being, you felt yourself spiraling at the action. No one cared about you this much and they barely even knew you. What was their end game? What made them tick? What made them this way? Was it genuine or was it just their jobs?

“Y/N!”

“Huh? Oh, um, I mean…a week would be fine…especially if I can just rest…”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.”, Jack responded in a nonchalant tone. “Go ahead and take the week but be back here on Thursday so we can go over everything.”

You nod as you head out of the office with your protectors in tow. “Hey, um, did you guys want to go get some lunch or something?”

***

“So, why security?”, you ask as you bite into your burger.

“Like Steve said, I mean, we’re good at it.”

“Well, good at protecting people. Security work just allows us to get paid for it.”, the man smiles as he takes a sip from his drink. 

“And you two have been friends for a while?”

“Since high school.”

“And where was that exactly?”

“You’re asking a lot of questions, sweetheart. Can I ask why?”, Eddie playfully narrows his eyes in your direction making you smile. 

“I just…you two are very different then people we usually hire. I just want to know more about you.”

“Different how?”, Steve asks.

“I don’t know. You just seem to genuinely care.”

“If the people around you don’t genuinely care then you need to hire some new people.”

“Yeah, well, that’s hard to find in this industry.” You reach in your purse and raise a flask in their direction as you pour a bit into your coffee.

“Is that why you do things like that?”, Eddie gestures towards you drink. 

“No, baby. I do things like this to keep me from going insane.”

“How about you do the healthy thing and stand up for yourself?”

You angerly turn your attention to Steve. “I can stand up for myself.”

“Oh? Is that why you let your manager, boyfriend, and entourage talk down to you the way they do?”

“Go fuck yourself, alright?! Look, I can stick up for myself and say what’s on my mind. For example, you two are complete fucking assholes.”, you growl. “I’m done eating. I want to go home.”

Eddie smirks as the other boy sighs. “Such a whiney, spoiled brat. I swear.” The metalhead pulls out his wallet, throwing money on the table as they both get to their feet. “Your highness.”, he gestures towards the front door. 

“I’m not whiney or spoiled. I worked hard to get here and I’m not going to let you or anyone talk to me like that.”

“Yet you do.”, Steve retorts as he opens the back door to his car. You roughly reach across, slamming it shut. “I thought you wanted to go home.”

“Apologize to me.”

“For what? Pointing out the obvious? Frankly, I don’t get why you have such a low opinion of yourself. You’re beautiful, talented, and you have such a gorgeous voice yet you pump yourself with poison and let these people take advantage of you. Why?”

You exhale as you look towards the ground. “I can handle it.”

“You say that a lot.” Eddie folds his arms on top of the car as he leans onto his hands. 

“Because I can.”

“By getting wasted?”

“My personal life is none of your fucking concern.”, you growl. 

“You’re right.” Steve opens the back door again and this time you climb in. “You just seem like you deserve better.”

##########

“I swear, man, that girl is going to get us killed. Or put in prison after WE kill her.”, Eddie chuckles from his place on the sofa. 

“I kind of like her.” The metalhead coyly raises his eyebrow at his friend. “Oh, come on, like you don’t?”, Steve sighs as he leans back against the couch. “There’s something hidden under all that sass and alcohol…I saw it when she was singing. I’d love to get to know that part of her better.”

Eddie grinned as he reached for his phone, smile fading when he saw the ID. 

“Hello. This is Eddie Munson.”

“E-Eddie? I, um, I think—FUCK YOU! —I need help.”

“You stupid bitch! Open this fucking door right fucking now!”

Eddie ross to his feet, tugging at Steve’s arm as he searched for his keys. “Where are you?”

“I-I’m in my bedroom. Simon and I got into a fight and-and he’s wasted. Pl-please…I’m scared. He’s never been this angry.”

Steve had already started the car, speeding towards your house. “Hey, it’s ok, sweetheart. We’re on the way, alright? Just stay on the phone with me, ok?”

“I’m sorry I was so mean to you guys today. Fuck… you two seem s-so different. I-I just…”

“Y/N don’t even worry about that right now. Everything’s going to be alright. We’re almost there.”

“You think you’re so high and mighty! Think you can talk to me anyway you want to! Fuck you, you fucking slut! Open the door, Y/N!”

“Oh, sure! You fuck all the groupies and fans that show up to my concerts but I’m the fucking slut!”

“Y/N, stop engaging. Talk to me.” There’s a loud crash and a squeak from your side as the line cuts off. “Steve…hurry.”

Five minutes later, they are bursting through your front door, running towards your bedroom where they hear your boyfriend shouting. Steve tackles him to the floor subduing him with his knee in his back. 

“Get the fuck off me!”

“Stop moving. You’re lucky I don’t fucking shoot you, asshole.”

“Y/N?”, Eddie softly called your name as you continued to cower in the corner with your head tucked into your arms. “Princess, everything is ok. I’m going to touch your arm.” You jump when his fingers graze your skin but you allow him to guide you to your feet. “There we go. Good girl. You’re doing so good. Can you look at me so I can check you out here?”

Your lips trembled as you faced him, his eyes slowly growing dark with fury as he scanned you over. Your face was red from your tears but he could also see where Simon had smacked your cheek. You had bruises that were starting to form on your arms where he must have grabbed you. 

“I’ll call the police and EMS.”, he grumbled trying to contain his anger. 

“No! No EMS. Please…I don’t need those pictures or attention.”

“But I do of me being pushed into a fucking cop car.”, Simon spat. 

Steve grabbed his hair and hit his head into the carpet. “Shut. Up.” His eyes meet yours as he speaks in a much gentler tone. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, um, I have a first aid kit here and all that so I’m fine.”

*** 

The police came by and took Simon away after taking everyone’s statements. Eddie and Steve took care of almost everything which you immensely appreciated. After everyone left, you expected them to as well but as your front door closed, you found you weren’t the only one on the other side. 

“I’m going to see if I can get your bedroom door back on its hinges.”, Eddie turned the corner to head down your hallway as Steve followed. 

You tiptoe after them, watching them with bewilderment as the metalhead got to work and Steve began straightening up the things Simon had damaged.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” They both froze, straightening up to look at you. “Why…why are you so nice to me? I’m such a fucking bitch to you. According to you, I’m a bratty, spoiled, washed up singer. WHY are you doing this?!”, you gesture around the room. 

They glanced at each other and after a few minutes it was Steve who finally spoke. “How should we be? Hm? Should we be like him? Do you think you deserve to be treated like this, Y/N?”

Their voices and demeanor completely changed in the moment; talking to you like a little girl who had just run into your parent’s room crying about a monster under her bed. 

“Sweetheart, NO ONE deserve to be treated like this. You didn’t trigger this. What he just did…isn’t your fault. You did the right thing calling us here. Now what kind of protectors would we be if we left you here alone with your house like this?”

You broke, sobbing almost uncontrollably as your hands covered your face. Strong hands tenderly grabbed your biceps, pulling you into a chest as you wrapped your arms around his back. Another palm delicately petted your head and for the first time in your life, you had never felt safer.

Stepping back, you wipe your eyes, glancing up to see Eddie’s kind, worry filled orbs running over your face as Steve stood beside him doing the same.

“Can, um, can we worry about this tomorrow and you stay here with me tonight?” 

“Yeah, we can stay here, honey. Do you have another room you can sleep in? I don’t think tomorrow morning you should open your eyes and this is the first thing you see.”

“I have a guest bedroom down the hall here.”

“Good because I agree with Steve. We can sleep on the couches out here and—”

“Can you sleep with me?”, you interrupt, your question startling both men. “I-I-I mean, you don’t have to. I just… I’m still a bit scared. I’m…forget about it.”

Eddie grabbed your hand as you started to walk away. 

“We can do that for you. If that’s what you want.” You nod your head to his statement, watching him closely as his eyes shift from security Eddie to something you had never seen before in any man. Whatever it was it made you feel weak in the knees. His fingers reached out to brush a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Can you say it?”

“I-I want you two to sleep…in my bed…with me. Please.” That last word comes out almost in a whisper, pleading with them to stay. 

Steve’s fingers softly caress your cheek before gliding under your chin, turning you to face him. He had that same look Eddie had, that air of confidence you remembered seeing when you first met them but more dominate. 

“Good girl.”

[rosewaterandivy]

hit the lot and skate

summary: so, noted. eddie and first impressions do not mix.

a/n: for your consideration, enforcer and all around brawler, eddie “the reaper” munson. he’s my disgusting lil meow meow and i love him! big up to @jo-harrington for entertaining this headcanon and letting me spiral. 🥹

Eddie is late, again, like always, and shuffled unceremoniously to the press room by Hop, the team manager. He’s got one hand splayed against Eddie’s back, all but frog marching him through the double doors, grumbling all the while.

“You’ll be late to your own damn funeral, kid.” He mutters, shoving Eddie toward the single chair at the table. “Just, play nice, okay? It’s pre-season and I’d rather not have to pay a fine. Think you can swing that?”

“Aye, aye, Chief,” Eddie says with a wink and sarcastic two finger salute.

He leans back in the chair, idly sipping from his gatorade bottle every so often while barely answering the reporters questions. It’s mostly just shrugs and raised eyebrows from The Reaper, as they’ve come to expect.

“Munson, why are you here if you’re not gonna answer any of our questions?”

“Wow, wonderful delivery as always, Ace!” He cracks his knuckles and rests his elbows against he table, leaning forward toward the assembled mics, “And it’s simple, really. I’m just here so I don’t get fined again.”

The gathered press sigh and throw up their hands in dismay— couldn’t even get him to bite by mentioning Carver and the brawl last season. What was the fucking use?

Eddie, pleased with himself, sits back in the chair and takes a long pull from the bottle. Most people just assume it’s water or Gatorade. Maybe, on occasion, a nip of whiskey.

But the reality is so much worse than that.

The press begin to pack up, and Hop feels a migraine coming on already. He’s pinching between his brows and completely misses someone approaching Eddie.

The Reaper watches in interest. A mystery woman with a murder-strut beelining right for him. Probably one of the newer reporters in the rotation. Thinking she can corner him and get a quote— amateur.

But instead, she ignores him completely and grabs his bottle and squirts a stream of liquid into her mouth. Eddie’s eyes nearly fall out of his skull. Hop, looking up, is too late to warn her of the mistake she’s just unknowingly made.

His water bottle concoction is an open secret among the team— a lotta Mountain Dew cut with a bit of milk. Mountain Dilk, if you will.

The press, now wise to the situation, has already pulled out their phones to record the interaction. Voices murmuring under their breath, not loud enough for Eddie to make out what’s being said.

People seem to recognize her, whoever she is.

And the woman in question, simply sets the bottle back on the table and pauses to gargle that shit before spitting it right back into Eddie’s face.

“That is fucking vile.”

All he can do is cock his head and blink, milky green droplets clumping on his eye lashes.

“Not a swallower, huh?” He asks, wiping his upper lip. “Gotta say, not a good look for a WAG, sweetheart.”

A slow smile creeps across her face. She huffs a soft laugh, and then: “Y’know Munson, sense has chased you your entire life, but you’re faster.”

She crosses her arms casually beneath her breasts, inadvertently pushing them up and sending Eddie’s blood due south. Her mouth twists as she eyes him up and down, assessing.

“Uh, thanks?”

A scoff and roll of her eyes, “Coach.”

“What?”

She steps toward him, slow and steady. Her head grazing just beneath his chin, Eddie has to glance down to maintain eye contact.

“That’s Coach to you, Munson.” She pokes him in the chest, a filed nail directly to his sternum, nods to Hop and turns to leave. “On the rink in five,” She tosses over her shoulder, “Lace your skates and grab a bucket.”

[soundspeachytome]

dusty and fraulein (shohei ohtani au)

summary: your asshole cat falls in love with your new next-door neighbor and takes shelter in his front porch while displacing his poor dog, dusty, and a whole lot of chaos in between ensues.

tropes: enemies to lovers, next door neighbor dynamics, dog parent x cat parent, fake dating, small town romance, pure, pure fluff and romance only.

word count: 11.2k

this is far from my original writing style but i hope you have fun reading as much as i had writing this! (if there are any inconsistencies, sorry in advance!)

other notes: i had patterned the two characters loosely after lorelai and luke and stars hollow as the town. *swoon!*

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

=================================

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You squint through the harsh back light of your phone and see the time: 8:47 AM. It is barely brunch and you hear loud music and conversation from outside your bedroom window. You pull the covers over your head and try to go back to sleep but the sound of a hammer being pounded on wood disrupts your journey back to dreamland. 

It also doesn’t help that your head also feels like someone is drilling it into concrete. For a split second, you wonder why you even let that much alcohol enter your system on a Friday night, and why no one stopped you when you were such a lightweight. You try to remember the events from the night before and then it hits you: you caught your boyfriend–now ex!--sexting with an intern at his office through the messages on his phone. You were not the type to scour through your boyfriends’ phones but it was supposed to be dinner date night with pasta and Sauvignon Blanc when Jack’s phone lit up from the kitchen counter. You were busy preparing cutlery when the phone dinged again. You thought it was important from work and since you had been very open and comfortable with each after a year of dating, taking a peek would not hurt. 

Nothing could have prepared you for what you saw. 

Jack, despite being a successful finance analyst, the smart, bookish type, the one who can compute numbers in his head in about 5 seconds or less, apparently was not smart enough to keep his notifications hidden or at least try and cover them up like a serial cheater would. Not that you  wanted him hiding anything from you, but at that moment, seeing the thirst traps and the disgusting follow-up sexts from his notifications bar were enough for you to hurl his precious PS5 from the fifth floor of his apartment building and leave the crime scene with the wine and pasta in tow. 

You don’t know what happened after because you left while he was still in the shower, his apartment thrashed, with a note which you left that says, “For the record, I faked all my orgasms during our sexy time. Veronica ❤️ seems to love your *mini* performance though! PS. If you’re looking for your PS5, try looking down from the balcony, asshole.”

Love is a lie, you scoffed. You let the remnants of last night’s hurt consume you for a little bit more and cry under the covers. You cried until your eyes tired, until the weight of your head felt heavier than a bowling ball. You thought about staying in bed for a few more minutes when a boisterous laughter interrupted your thoughts. The laugh was followed by incomprehensible sentences. The voice came from a man probably in his late twenties, deep, jovial and friendly. You couldn’t make out the words from this distance but he sounded like he was giving instructions, volume fading in and out every now and then. Then more manly laughter. You didn’t know why but this person had a distinct laugh that you found very pleasant. You wonder somberly if you could laugh like that again. 

You jolted upright and went for the door. You will definitely be happy again soon but first, coffee. 

The best hangover fix is a steaming cup of coffee with a plate of bacon and pancakes. You poured yourself a hot mug of coffee and suddenly felt unstoppable, like you’re actually happy, at least temporarily. The pounding in your head has subsided but the drilling from nextdoor hasn’t. You must have new neighbors, the way you’re seeing movers coming in and out of the moving truck parked outside. You tried to catch a glimpse of this neighbor causing all the ruckus but were unsuccessful as the trees lined beside your porch were covering your line of vision. From behind you, you felt your cat, Fraulein, bump her head on your ankles, purring audibly.

“Looks like the new neighbors woke you up too, huh?” She yawned and continued looking up at you. 

Fraulein, a female American shorthair of three years, stood around nine pounds with her stocky legs and long, proportioned tail. Her fur was a thick orange coat with faint white stripes covering most of her body. She was nameless when you picked her up from the animal shelter. She was barely five months old at that time and despite being smaller than the other cats, she had snuggled up to you when you reached for a pet. When you scratched her head and heard her purr loudly, you knew right then and there that she was the one for you. She was the friendliest, clingiest and most loveable thing you have in your life, and despite her “orange cat personality” as most people had dubbed, you wouldn’t replace her with anything in the world, not even for your hound dog-looking ex, Jack. 

She did a big stretch as you picked her up while you stood idly by the window. As you stared outside, Fraulein’s purring sending you in a trance, you suddenly notice a pair of eyes looking up at you from the front lawn. Those eyes should not be there, and more importantly, the pair of eyes belonged to a dog standing just mere inches from your flowering shrubs, tail wagging. If this dog takes another step, they could ruin the gardenias you’ve been trying to grow. 

You step outside and try to shoo the dog away when it suddenly jumps and barks. 

“Hey! Get away from my garden!” You try to stay calm as the dog continues to bark and come playfully near the shrubs. Your heart sinks when his paw accidentally steps on the stems of your peonies. You’ve been meaning to pluck them this week so you can replace the wilted ones from your vase. 

“Oh my god… Please go away! Shoo!” You desperately waved the dog away but it continued to jump excitedly and roll around, probably thinking you were out there to play. Fraulein, who was still in your arms the entire time, started getting restless and was hissing at the dog’s direction, her untucked claws boring into your skin. That’s when you saw a man, probably over six feet tall, rushing towards the dog. He had thick black hair and the widest shoulders you’ve ever seen. 

“Oh my god, Dusty! What are you doing here…” He put a leash on the dog, whose name was probably Dusty, as you have heard, and carried him with one arm. 

“I’m so so sorry! I was inside the house and I didn’t realize Dusty escaped from his leash.” His big brown eyes complemented well against his slightly tanned skin. With your obvious height difference, you had to look up at him from a distance without hurting your neck. 

“He almost ruined my flowers,” You started to say, eyes still locked in his. If you hadn’t forced yourself to look towards your garden, you would have been sucked into his creamy brown orbs. 

You assessed the garden from the mini scuffle. There was a bit of overturned soil from some of the shrubs, especially from the peonies getting the most damage. The stems have been slightly bent, almost breaking from where it stood. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m sosososorry! I didn’t mean to–I mean, Dusty’s still young, he’s very playful and…” 

“I was planning on cutting them this week, anyway. Your dog has to stay away from my garden, though.” I pointed at the lopsided peonies, almost looking like they have their hands up in the air, waving sideways.

He looked so apologetic that he almost looked like it was his fault. He tightened his grip on his dog, Dusty, who looked so small and well-behaved being cradled by a big-bodied man. Meanwhile, Fraulein has not relaxed one bit after that quick garden mess and had her claws out, clinging to my threadbare sweater.

“Yes ma’am, I’ll keep a tight leash on her. I’m Shohei Ohtani, by the way. We just moved next door, so I guess we’re neighbors now. I’d offer my hand right now, but I’m afraid Dusty would jump out of my grip. ”

Now that you are able to look at his face carefully, you realize that he was fairly handsome. Correctly proportioned face, dreamy brown eyes, and a smile that invited first love butterflies kind of vibe. He was also tall and definitely bulky over that black long-sleeved sweater that was folded up to his elbows. You could tell he dedicates a good amount of time to his body.

“So that explains all this noise so early in the morning.” You say with an almost sarcastic tone of voice. You didn’t mean it and you were willing to forgive them for the morning ruckus but the garden mishap and the mini-heart attack you had for your plants had somehow added to the list of how-to-piss-your-neighbor-on-the-first-day. And you’re really bad at moving past your first impressions of other people. 

“Are all cat people always this cranky in the morning?” He commented cheekily, displaying a playful expression in his eyes. This man named Shohei is trying to get to you and it’s definitely working. For a first conversation, it surely is getting on your nerves to be read so openly, and in your own premises, at that. 

“Excuse me?”

“It’s just an observation. Cat people seemed to be more emotionally charged than dog people.” He said matter-of-factly and continued to smile. He’s handsome but he’s also starting to be annoying as hell. What does he mean by that? Does he want to show off that dog people are better than cat people? 

“Well. If we’re going to talk about stereotypes here then I must say dog people are careless people-pleasers who hogs the attention and only cares about being liked and do not give a rat’s ass on taking up other people’s space and boundaries. I’d also offer to shake my hand but I’m afraid my cat right here might scratch your dog’s face for ruining our morning.” You stared hard at him and slowly backed away, returning to your porch steps.

“Nice to meet you, too, I guess! I would suggest chamomile tea and tone down on coffee!” He waved cheerfully, as he exited the lawn and walked towards his home. You turned your heel and slammed the door shut loud enough for him to hear. Fraulein jumped out of your grip and mewed almost as angrily. She darted toward the kitchen and went out of sight. 

“What a weirdo… If Fraulein doesn’t like him then I don’t have to like him, too.” You muttered to yourself and moved to the bathroom to take a shower. 

You spent your afternoon in the garden, watering and cutting the flowers in full bloom. You wore your oldest t-shirts with a print that says “I Wet My Plants” under your pink square overalls and a sun hat to protect you from the sun. You were listening to your beloved Birdy mix on your headphones as you tended the prettiest flowers in your garden, muting the noise of the world.

I know I was stupid to let what we had go to waste

Why does everything I love always get taken away?

Ghost in the wind calling you to take me home

Ghost in the wind crying, where do I belong?

Can anyone hear me now?

Can anyone hear me now?

“Can you hear me, Y/N?”

“Agh!”

You almost jumped out of your skin when a hand touched you lightly in the arm. It was Patrick Sandoval, your high school best friend, and sometimes main supplier of Fraulein’s flea medicine. You forgot that he was visiting today.

“Whoa! Extra jumpy today?” he smiled his Colgate-white smile and cocked his head to the side. “Coffee overload, again?”

Suddenly you remembered what your new neighbor had said during your first encounter this morning. Naturally cranky… Tone down on the coffee… He had no idea to be assuming things like that, not when you had just literally met.

“Jack cheated on me and I was hungover, okay?” You grit your teeth through the mention of your ex. Like the stench of his name made the bile climb up your throat. “I decimated his PS5 into tiny cracked pieces.”

“Oh, shit, man.. I’m proud of you.” He put you in a half-embrace and patted your head. “Do you need me to break his legs for you?”

You giggled, arm still locked around his waist. “No, but I took one of his expensive wines so that evens that out for me, I think. I don’t care.”

Patrick looks at you and wonders if he arrived too late today. He notices the dark bags under your eyes and your puffy face, probably a result of crying all night. He wondered if you had been crying all morning, too. He couldn’t help but lean in and give you a full, bear hug.

“Just let me know if you need us to file a restraining order, babygirl.” You snorted and buried your face under his embrace, thankful for the assurance. Patrick has always been your rock since high school. When your first boyfriend ditched you in prom, Patrick was there to rescue you when he wasn’t initially supposed to go; you ended the night with stomachs full of pizza, sparkling soda and belly laughter.

You and Patrick had been for each other’s rarest moments throughout adulthood: gushing about your first times, your first heartbreaks, getting into college, graduation… you even wondered if both of you are just teetering from the sidelines, waiting for each other to do the first move. You always brush the thought away because to do that means risking your friendship with him. You don’t want to lose him, not even as a friend.

“By the way, I’m just here to drop these medicines for dear ol’ Frau that you asked.” He lifted a paper bag with a cute animal picture and his pet shop name printed across it. Paw and Order.

 “Thanks, Patrick. I could’ve picked them up if you called.” Patrick has been the sole pet doctor in town which contributed solely to his success. Seeing how much people nowadays prefer taking pets instead of bearing children, he took the opportunity to put up his own pet shop and clinic; you and Fraulein have been number one customers ever since.

“It’s my pleasure, milady.” He did an elegant bow, to which I returned a curtsy, and giggled. “I’m also here to let you know that I’ll be on a business trip for two weeks. So this will be sort of my goodbye.”

“What kind of business trip takes two weeks long?” You don’t really want him to leave, especially with the holidays approaching, you had planned to spend it all with him.

“The kind where your father wants you to venture to a new business spot and spend the holidays with him and his new family.” He shrugged and looked at you, hoping you’d stop him from the impending family mess he’s about to go to, but you only scrunched your nose.

“That sucks, man. You’ll miss all the fruitcakes.” 

“I know, dude.” He pouted. “How are Frau's fleas, by the way? Did the medicine work last time?” 

“Sure did, she’s better now. Speaking of which, where is that old hag?” You haven’t seen her since early morning’s commotion. The last time you saw her she was napping by the window of your bedroom.

“Just call me if you notice anything weird. The medicines should be enough while I’m gone.” 

“Leaving already?”

“First thing in the morning, bub.” He said. “I’ll miss you.”

“Frau and I will miss you, too!” And the two of you embraced in another warm hug. When you both pulled back, he helped you pick up the basket of freshly bloomed flowers you had collected for the day and went back inside the house. You had given him the extra jar of lemon iced tea you’ve been saving for a particularly warm day like this. 

~~~

It’s been a whole day that you haven’t seen Fraulein. She usually wanders off hours in a day but she always returns by dinner time. You were starting to worry as the sky slowly turned pitch black. The lampposts turn on, illuminating the streets. You turn the porch lights on, too, and leave her bowl of food and water by the doorstep, in case she decides to come home late into the night. 

~~~~

You wake up to a high-pitched yowling outside. You’re not exactly sure where but you know that sound from anywhere. You bolted down the stairs with your sleeping robe undone and ran towards the lawn. You can’t see anything until you hear it again.

“Nyreooow!”

Soon, a dog howls and you run towards Shohei Ohtani’s house.

You see Fraulein perched on top of Shohei’s porch, her entire back arched defensively, ears twitching backwards. She was hissing at Dusty, who was whimpering loudly below the porch steps and looking terrified. In your panic, you run to the lawn to pick Fraulein up.

“Fraulein! What are you doing here?” 

Dusty continued to bark loudly, trying to come near the door where Fraulein stood. She hissed menacingly at him.

At that exact moment, Shohei Ohtani emerged from the front door, yawning and trying to get sleep out of his eyes. 

“Whazhapeninhere?” He yawned, looking clearly disoriented from suddenly waking up.

“Your dog is trying to attack my cat!” I yelled, trying to go near Fraulein but stepped back as Dusty blocked your way. 

Shohei popped awake as soon as he heard Fraulein hiss at Dusty once more; Fraulein arched her back more and raised her claws in defense.

“Whoa, hey!” Shohei ran up to Dusty and cradled him in his arms like a baby. Poor dog was shaking and whimpering.

“Are you sure it’s not your cat trying to attack my baby?” He raised his voice. He was standing a few feet away from you and looked you up and down, noticing your loose sleeping robe and looking away. 

“Poor baby getting scared by a cat,” He cooed silently, helping Dusty relax.

You walked up the porch when Fraulein hissed and scratched your arms when you picked her up. She wriggled from your grasp but conceded defeat when you scruffed her by the neck, immobilizing her. 

“I don’t know what’s happening here, but please stay away from my cat.” You looked at both Shohei and Dusty sternly. He noticed the scratches on your hands.

“You’re bleeding.” He started.

You looked down on your hands and saw visible red scratch marks. They started from the middle of your arm all the way to the back of your hand.

“I’m fine.” You huffed, trying to walk away as fast as possible. You don’t know what time it was, but it could easily be past midnight. 

“No, wait. Please, I have antiseptic soap inside…” He rushed towards the house, when he looked back and saw you frozen on the steps, he beckoned you and disappeared inside. “Come on.”

You stood there for a moment and contemplated if you should follow Shohei inside. You barely know the guy and every encounter you’ve had with him always ended in a screaming match or a passive-aggressive exchange. He might even be an ax murderer for all you know. A very handsome one, at that. 

“Frau, if something happens to me, please know that I love you.” You held her near your face. “Third drawer by the sink is where I kept all your catnip”. You whispered to her ear and walked towards Shohei Ohtani’s home.

~~~

Shohei Ohtani’s home was, first of all, very clean. It did not reek of anything a dog owner normally would smell like. It had the occasional puppy toys around the living room, but much to your surprise, it was spotless. It also smelled like sweet rose and laundry detergent. You also discovered that just like you, he lives alone. 

Shohei had put Dusty inside a retractable gate to keep him safe from Fraulein as you put her down on the floor. He busied himself looking for his first aid kit. You don’t notice any other pictures on display except him and Dusty and one with his complete family on the refrigerator door. 

His tall frame reappears and he pulls you towards the kitchen sink. You soak your arms under the water and he hands you the antiseptic soap.

“Thanks,” You mumbled. He never left your side and waited until you finished rinsing off, then took your arm and put cream on the scratch marks. He was standing unbelievably close, you could almost see his long eyelashes as he had his head down, concentrating on his self-appointed task. 

He also had his other hand holding you tight, as if to make sure you won’t run off suddenly. 

“I have these at home, you know.” You trained your eyes on his fingers dabbing cream. Don’t look at his arm veins, Y/N. Don’t look at them. Don’t look. Don’t.

“Oh, gee. Why didn’t I think of that?” He mused to which you rolled your eyes. Once again, the magic had worn off. 

“Do you really have to sound sarcastic all the time?”

“C’mon, lighten up.  Besides, it happened on my property so I feel partially responsible–even if it was your cat’s fault.” He shrugged.

You coughed at his accusation. “Fraulein does not instigate fights. She is well-mannered and prim all the time, thank you very much.” You pulled your cream-covered arm away from him. Just then, you notice Fraulein bumping her head on Shohei’s legs, mewling softly.

“How would you then explain the fact where your cat steals Dusty’s bed from the front porch?” He said, crossing his arm, Fraulein on the other hand, was still headbutting Shohei on the legs.

“Oh, she did not.” You retorted. Why would she steal someone’s fray-looking bed when she has her beautiful beige 2-condo tree tower with a capsule nest and dangling balls and a charming basket-weave style oval bed at home? It didn’t make sense. “She only sleeps in the beds I bought her.”

Shohei gives you a funny look and fishes his phone from his pocket. “Well, you’re in for quite a shock, I guess.”

He shoves the phone to you after tinkering with it for a while. “That’s your cat at 30:56 right?”

You look closely, a bit disoriented at what he was trying to show you. CCTV recorded footage of his porch outside where his dog, Dusty, was sitting in his dog bed, playing with his puppy chew ball, when suddenly, you saw Fraulein enter the frame from the left. 

“It doesn’t show anything.” You impatiently looked on, disbelief and denial dripping from you. 

“Oh just you wait.” 

Fraulein was moving slowly, watching Dusty and his toy. A few minutes pass by, the video captures Shohei exiting the front door and Dusty follows him playfully, at which, the dog bed was obviously vacated, and Fraulein took the opportunity to lay on it. 

Shohei cops the phone away and crosses his arms across his chest. “The court finds the defendant guilty.”

It took you a moment but gasped dramatically at the realization. “Was she here the entire day yesterday? Napping on your dog’s bed?” You looked at Fraulein with sheer disapproval. “Fraulein von Hammersmark, that is not how female felines behave.”

Shohei stifled a laugh. He was leaning over his stomach and ears red. “Relax. I don’t mind at all. I think Dusty does, though.” He picks up Fraulein calmly and gives her  scratches on her head. Fraulein purrs loudly. 

“She has been napping here all day since morning and seems to enjoy watching her new neighbor work out in the front lawn.” 

You grimaced, making sure you showed him your disgust. “Ew, weird flex but okay.”

Dusty whimpers as he looks at the scene from outside his gate. You walk over and give him a light pat on the head. “Dusty, blink once if you need help.” 

“Oh, please.” He giggles. “I’m not the weird one for naming my cat Fraulein von Hammersomething.” Shohei returns Fraulein to you, your arms touching, his head closer to yours momentarily. 

“Y/N. I wonder what the weather is on your side. You want to wear something warmer than that?” He pointed at your loose sleeping gown, your legs showing a little bit of your thigh. A little more movement and the knots would dangerously slip out of your waist and reveal your lingerie. 

“Pervert.” You instinctively covered your chest and ran back home, arms carrying Fraulein and the weight of shame for being almost half-naked inside a strange man’s house. 

~~~~

The next few days after that incident were spent with writing articles for an obscure lifestyle website and your part-time work at the bookstore in town, Novel Nook. You ride a 30 minute bus ride to the town square everyday for work and wait 15 minutes in line to grab a cup of coffee from the coffee shop beside it. It doesn’t feel like work at all because you are always surrounded by the books that you love. It took you a long time to realize that working 9-5 in an office cubicle with ugly fluorescent lighting was deteriorating your mental headspace and when your mom passed, you jumped the gun and submitted your intent to resign.

You removed all the baggage you kept from the city and only brought the ones that mattered to you: your cat, your big books, some pretty clothes you never wore in the city but are wearing freely and confidently now, and your memories of your mom. You flew seven thousand miles back home to the place you were meant to be all this time, and you couldn’t be happier and more content. 

You were walking sluggishly back home from a tiring day at work at Novel Nook where two teenagers fought for the last copy of The Hurricane Wars and it took all your energy to de-escalate before they could start pulling each other’s hair. You can’t wait to kick your boots back, hug Fraulein and maybe continue reading a book. 

Your house is on the opposite side of the bus stop so you always (almost begrudgingly) have to pass by Shohei’s house every time. Sometimes it would be quiet with Dusty playing alone on the porch, or Shohei having a barbecue and would always cheerfully waving at you while you just give him a brief nod. Recently, you’ve grown accustomed to seeing Fraulein hanging out in his place more often than you have imagined. She’s like a teenage girl rebelling against her overbearing mother, hanging out with the wrong crowd. After that incident with Dusty, she has claimed dominance on his bed, Shohei had no choice but to buy a new one for his poor dog, while Fraulein smugly walks around in her new territory. 

You had developed some sort of weird neighbor-dynamic with Shohei after that. On days Fraulein had to take her medicine shots that Patrick had given you, you’d walk towards his house and pick her up like some sort of pet daycare. Shohei likes to call it “daddy daycare” as if you’re two divorced parents and he is the cool dad that all the kids love hanging with while you’re the uptight, overbearing mother with full custody and all, that the kids hate. 

“Fraulein, your mom’s here.” Shohei said one day, looking up from his laptop which was perched on the table he had set up on his porch, sitting adjacent to Fraulein. Dusty was chewing on his toy, as usual, and perked up a welcome upon seeing you. 

Fraulein stands and stretches her back and sits back again resting on Shohei’s foot, to which Shohei smirks almost smugly. “She loves her dad more, it seems.”

You roll your eyes and pick up Fraulein. “Stop calling yourself her dad before I burn your house down.”

“Ooh, an arsonist for a neighbor. That’s so sexy, Y/N.” He looked you up and down and wiggled his eyebrows. “You’re too cute to go to jail, though. How about going out with me instead?”

“Piss off. C’mon, Fraulein, time for medicine.” You turned and walked back to your home, trying to keep a straight face at the being called cute with Shohei. You’re too cute. You made the mistake of looking back as you turned to your corner and saw Shohei grinning at you.

This day would be no different as you passed by Shohei’s house today and saw Fraulein napping at the exact same place on his porch. He was working out doing ab crunches on the ground. You decided today, you wouldn’t dare to go on another episode of sarcasm battle with Shohei and go straight home. He was wearing workout clothes of course, with his gym shorts and sleeveless shirt, for all the temptations in the world, this one, you had proudly resisted and warded off like the devil. 

You found Dusty on your lawn, sitting by the patch of grass far from your flowers, thankfully, and staring far ahead into the direction of your home. You patted him and tried to get his attention. Ever since being displaced by Fraulein, he had been giving you frequent visits and play in your yard and you’d give him treats from your secret stash.

“Hey, bud. Were you waiting for me?” He ignored you and continued to look on.

By the door, you can see a tall black figure standing, unmoving. It was a man in a black suit with hands in his pockets. When he turns around, you see a familiar face.  

“No,” You whispered. Jack smiles at you and waves, as if nothing had happened almost a month ago. As if he was just returning from a business trip. Like cheating on you was nothing.

You started panicking and heaving heavily. Dusty senses your fear and barks at Jack when he slowly walks over to you. 

Dusty continued to growl and bark at Jack while you tried to move backward, feet heavy like lead. 

“Stop, don’t come near me, Jack.” you struggled.

“Y/N, I’m here to apologize, for whatever happened, for whatever it made you feel.” He was still slowly walking towards you, eyeing Dusty carefully.

“We have nothing to talk about anymore, Jack. It’s over, in case you forgot.”

“I said come here, you bitch.” He growled. 

At this point, you only realized you were shaking terribly when a hand wrapped on your shoulder, calming you down.

“Are you okay?” It was Shohei’s voice and you have never felt so relieved to hear his voice. You weakly put your arm around his waist and leaned on him. You were still shaking badly, from the exhaustion, or the fear, you couldn’t tell. 

“Is everything okay?” Shohei acknowledges Jack who stopped at around five feet from where you were. 

“We were just discussing something… private.” Jack shifts his eyes between you and Shohei, who was sizing him up and down. Between Shohei, who stood over six feet tall, bulky, and ripped, and Jack, just around five foot nine, body somewhat lean and lanky, Jack didn’t stand a chance. 

Realizing this, you found more comfort and confidence in your plan. You looked up to see Shohei still trying to converse with Jack while keeping a firm arm around you. 

“Shohei.” He looked at you cautiously and tightened his grip on your shoulder. 

Please promise me that you won’t get mad at what I’m about to do.

“What is it, Y/N? Who is this guy?” he said.

“He’s my ex who I want nothing to do with.” He straightened his back but you pulled him by the neck so you could whisper in his ear.

“I’m so sorry, Shohei.” 

“I’m not sure I understand–” He tilted his head in confusion. Jack starts moving forward again, looking almost pissed by just looking at you and Shohei. 

With Shohei still leaning forward, you desperately grabbed his cheeks and pecked him square on the lips. 

Shock induces both Shohei’s and Jack’s faces when you pull back, eyes focused on Jack and hoping to God he’d get the message. Wild red alarms blared and rang loudly in your head, you just kissed Shohei, your hot and annoying neighbor! You just kissed him! You ignored this and focused on the problem at hand. 

“He’s my boyfriend, Jack. Please leave now–” 

Shohei recovers from his shock and kisses you back in bigger, wider and longer strokes of his tongue. The tremors in your body shook harder and you felt your limbs melt into a puddle of water. Shohei’s big warm hands were there to catch you as your knees unbuckled. 

You kissed back and forgot everything that was happening in the background. Dusty barking, Jack’s shell-shocked face, the vehicles passing by the street witnessing your spectacle. You ignored all of this and focused on the way Shohei holds on to your body from your neck, to your back until it rests to the back of your waist, gripping tight, his firm and taut body pressing hard onto you, and his lips sliding over yours so smoothly, stimulating all the senses in your tongue and mouth. 

You don’t know how many seconds passed when you stayed inside that bubble but when you both pulled back for air, Jack was no longer there and Dusty had stopped barking. Instead, he just sat quietly on the ground, waiting for you to finish. 

You stared at Shohei and you stared back at him. Your hand was still on his neck, half-gripping the nape. You slowly let go and pull away. It’s always after the sin that you feel the shame and guilt. 

He doesn’t let go and instead takes you by the shoulder. “Come inside first and we’ll talk.”

You nod wordlessly and follow his lead. You couldn’t walk properly anyway, so you didn’t want to fight back. Your knees felt like jelly and your brain full of fog. That was hot, you thought, but also very wrong.

You sat at Shohei’s dining table chugging a glass of water. By the time you finished, he sat there in front of you and continued looking at you intensely.

In your post-kiss and post-Jack clarity, you’re now too embarrassed to admit the way you handled that situation. But Shohei, being Shohei, seemed unfazed. For the most part, he found it amusing to be part of your ex-boyfriend escape plan, of all the people. 

“A man never listens to a no,” You were too focused on the rim of the glass. You want to look anywhere but Shohei’s mouth. “And I was desperate for him to get away… so I did.. That.”

“Y/N, you were trembling out there. What exactly has he done to you?” He removed the glass from your grip and made you focus on him.

“He… I… He’s an asshole when he gets angry. And I was just scared I wouldn't be able to refuse him. I don’t want him anymore.”

“For someone as arrogant and snappish as you, that’s pretty hard to believe.” You rolled your eyes at him and smirked, lips looking luscious and fuller than the last time. 

“Look, I was probably having a panic attack back there, and I’m okay now, see?” You spread your arms widely, faking a smile at him. You’d like this conversation to end so you could run back to your house and ram your head to the wall. The more you stay in Shohei’s presence, the more embarrassed you feel about wanting and enjoying that kiss. You did. You do. And you want more. 

“I wanted an easy way out, you happened to be there and I grabbed the moment.” You rambled on. “And that kiss, it was just a one-time thing.”

“A one-time thing?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, it was a mistake. We don’t even like each other to kiss, so we can forget about it.”

“Is that right?” His lips curled into a smirk.

“Yes, tomorrow, we act like it never happened, okay?” You stood up and started collecting yourself. You hang by the door and look back, Shohei had his arms crossed against his chest, staring at you. 

“I don’t know, Y/N. That seems pretty unforgettable to me.”

~~~~~

The following morning, you woke up early to visit the farmer's market to replenish your cupboard. You wore black tights over your long beige dress and a gray cardigan. You put your hair down in loose waves today and replaced your contacts with your old prescription eyeglasses. 

Sprawled in front of you were tents and tables of farmers and sellers of freshly harvested fruits and vegetables to your heart’s content. Almost everyone you knew from town was there on a bright day like this. You said your hellos and some, who were avid customers of Novel Nook, asked about the new book releases. Since it is a fairly small town, it is inevitable to spot the ones that you direly wanted to avoid. For example, your ex-boyfriend Jack. 

He was standing one tent away and seemed to just idly window-shopping. You put your head down and try not to meet his gaze or look at his direction as you busy yourself looking through a good bunch of tomatoes. 

“Hey, Y/N.” You put your guard down and suddenly he is in front of you. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Trying to… buy some tomatoes?” He sneered, holding a tomato in his hand. “I don’t see your boyfriend around.”

“I…He’s… Can you please stop following me?” Cold sweat ran through your spine as he noticed you fumble, noticing your lie. 

“Lest you forget, I live here, too.” 

“Not in this side of town, you don’t.” You walked away with the bag of tomatoes you purchased. You moved quickly and avoided the throng of people that was starting to build up. 

“I just want us to talk… Y/N. You didn’t give me a chance to explain yesterday.” He continued to follow you, hands behind his back. He was obviously not there to buy tomatoes. 

“I don’t want to see you anymore. Leave me alone or I’ll call the police.” You looked at him sternly, hand gripping tightly on the basket you were holding. One false move and you just might smash his head with a whole pineapple. 

“No boyfriend to come save you now?” Jack chuckled. 

“There you are.” A familiar voice sprung up from behind, and a hand snaked around your waist. Shohei was suddenly beside you, holding on to his own basket of shopping bags.  “I was looking all over for you. Look, I got you blueberries for the cake you were planning to bake. ”

Shohei pinched your sides and smiled, nodding at you to play along with his little act. You forced a wide smile and said, “Wow, yes. You remembered, love? Thank you.”

You both turned to Jack who had a repulsed expression on his face. He coughed up and tried to get back his composure, but it was too late as both of you were already walking away. Shohei did not let go of you even until you turned a corner. You couldn’t care less about shopping anymore as you worried about running into Jack again.

“It looks like your ex is adamant on following you around.” He whispered to your ear, looking back and seeing Jack following far behind. “Care to give him a show, love?” 

You widen your eyes as you realized what was about to happen. 

He moves his head closer to yours and locks you in a wet kiss. He pushed deeper into the kiss when you unconsciously opened your mouth and let him in, mouth and tongue. The smell of clean detergent mixed with a little bit of vanilla filled your lungs, slapping you drunk. The second kiss was just as good as the first. 

Shohei suddenly pulls back from the kiss and offers his hand, and continues walking along like he hadn’t sucked the air out of your body.

For a few more tents, you and Shohei walked around hand in hand in the cold morning, picking fruits and vegetables like your typical neighborhood couple. Many onlookers saw the two of you eating from the free taste section, or arguing about the right vegetable size to buy, or just happily chatting with his hand not letting you go. 

“Shohei, I think Jack’s no longer around.” You motion for him to let go of your hand. 

“Aw, I thought we weren’t acting anymore, the way you were kissing me back there.” He smirks and lets go of your hand, missing his warmth already. 

“I’m only letting your hand go because you look like you’re going to topple over with how heavy this basket is.” He took your groceries from you and led the way. Since you’re practically almost living together, you have no choice but to walk with him awkwardly. 

“Thank you, Shohei.” You said quietly, walking feebly behind him.

“Didn’t catch that, love. What–” He wheels around and stops himself after realizing what he said, the tips of his ears turning red. You tried to keep a straight face but failed as both of you got caught in the moment. 

“Don’t get used to it.” You giggled and skipped your steps, leaving him to carry all the shopping bags he refused to let you carry. 

~~~

You were slowly settling down for the night with a movie on and a bowl of buttered popcorn when you heard a faint knock on the door.

Shohei was standing outside with his hands in the pockets of his checkered pajama pants. On his feet seems to be a brand new pet backpack carrier.

“Special delivery for one order of queen of meowtown, clingy and fuzzball Fraulein!” He beamed and pointed at the carrier. Fraulein was sitting relaxedly inside. 

“Don’t be shocked or anything but I accidentally bought two of these.” He pointed at the carrier. “I-I thought you’d like to have one for Fraulein. You don’t have to accept it i-if you…”

You smiled as he stammered on. “This looks really cute, I love it.”

Shohei smiled widely and helped push the carrier to your living room. “Then I'll give this as a gift!”

“It would be improper to receive a gift like this...”

“I refuse to accept no, Y/N. Take it please.”

You wanted to mull over it, let it marinate in your head and see what happens but ever since the first two kisses you shared with him, Shohei has been… extra friendly recently. And you were not that kind of “friend”. Whenever you pass his house, he’d go out of his way and talk to you before you walk away. Asking you questions if you’re on the way to the farmer's market, or if you’re on your way to work, if you want to join him for a run. He’s been attentive and you’re not sure what exactly this dynamic has evolved into. You feel uncomfortable about the attention you’re receiving but at the same time, you feel it in your chest and in your stomach and at the tips of your fingers. The fluttering. The tremors and the shakiness of breaths. It’s always there when he’s there. 

“Okay, fine. I’ll take it. But no more other gifts, okay!” You opened the carrier to let Fraulein out who walked idly away and climbed into her tree tower. 

Shohei smiled, nodding. He was about to leave the door when you pulled the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Wait. Um.”

He stepped back and looked inquiringly. You held up a photo from your phone to his face: it was you and Shohei on the day you went to the farmer’s market, holding hands while looking at freshly picked flowers. Shohei’s eyes squinted with laughter, looking intently at you while you were captured trying to explain something trivial. It was quite a beautiful shot sent to you by a cousin who was good at photography. More than that, if you were a stranger looking at a random photo like this, you’d think you were happily in love, and the thought made your chest flutter. 

“It’s quite a small town so it didn’t come as a shock to me when people started noticing whatever this was.” Shohei was still looking at the photo, a small smile drawn on his lips. 

“My mom’s side of the family is setting up a brunch this weekend. I usually bring Patrick to this but they wanted to meet you so…” You trailed.

You coughed and took the phone away. “It’s just a small group of people. And we can always say we broke up after three months or something.”

He cocked his head, looking confused. “Are we still doing the pretending thing with your family?”

“Yeah, I mean. We don’t like each other like that, right? We can just say it didn’t work out after three or four months. They usually move on pretty quickly from the guys I date.”

“Let me get this straight, Y/N.” He said slowly, the Adam’s apple on his throat went up and down as he swallowed. “You want to introduce me to your family as your fake boyfriend on your family brunch.”

You affirmed. “Yes.”

“And we’re going to cook up a reason to break up.”

“Yes.”

“And you said we don’t really like each other that much.”

“Not one bit”

“When we already had two kisses.”

“Yeah.”

“And went on a date in the farmer’s market walking around while holding hands. We kissed twice.”

“It  wasn’t a date.”

“It was to me.” He muttered.

“It was because you were helping me with Jack, remember?”

Shohei sighed exasperatedly, his mood darkened. “Pssh, yeah, whatever. Text me the details. G’night.” He scooted to leave and just like that you were left all alone in a confused daze in your living room. 

~~~

You spent too much time tossing and turning on your bed that night. The voices in your head and the whispers in your heart having an ongoing debate about what had happened a few hours before. 

Shohei was extremely happy, almost beaming like a kid when he brought you his gift but his expression changed after you had the conversation about your family brunch. Maybe you can sit it out this year and make up an excuse that both you and Shohei couldn’t attend? Seasonal allergies? Car getting mauled? Someone’s pet dying? Gods, no. You internally smack yourself for even being near to the thought of either your pets dying, not when they’re the closest thing you have as your best friend and family. You believe Shohei believes that, too. 

And why would Shohei become upset when you proposed the idea of a fake relationship with your family? You started this whole mess and it’s slowly getting out of hand, you want to nip it in the bud so it won’t have to hurt that much later on. It was just a one-time thing, an escape plan until Jack gets out of your hair, then both of you can live as freely as you had before. 

Besides, Shohei doesn’t like you to be that upset. Does he? He’s just a neighbor who likes joking around and annoying you whenever he gets the chance. He also just so happens to be a neighbor that Fraulein spends a lot of time on, he’s just someone to you until recently. 

You touch your fingers on your lips. That kiss shouldn’t mean anything to you because maybe Shohei doesn’t think about it that much either. He’s probably had a good number of girls that he’s kissed with that mouth. Given how good those kisses were, his expertise was undeniably top notch. You’ve never had anything like that before. A kiss that makes your insides tremble with need, almost fairytale like. Something close to what Mia Thermopolis had fantasized before her royal engagement with Nick Devereaux, a kiss that makes your leg pop. That’s what it was. A leg-popping, heart-fluttering, soul-defining kind of a  kiss that you’ll ask for more.

But as much as you want this all for yourself like the next person, you just had your heart broken by Jack. Jack who had promised you the moon and the stars, and a beautiful, dreamy, family with your pets. He had you swooning and dreaming about forever. It was all perfect until that fateful date and the cheating. It hurts to realize that no matter how much you love and do better for a person, they will always look for ways to look at other people. The idea of getting into a relationship right away after what happened with Jack is preposterous at this point. The trust and self-confidence Jack broke is something you want to piece together yourself first. Even if it meant being alone for a couple of months, or years. Who knows.  

You tossed to your side once again, feeling the sleep finally get to you. You dozed off soaking under the thoughts of kittens and kissing a tall man with contagious laughter. 

~~~~

Shohei was filling Fraulein’s food and water bowl dutifully as you had asked, waiting for you to finish preparing for the family brunch in the living room. He had finally succumbed and agreed to go with you as your fake boyfriend, despite his initial feelings towards the arrangement. He still doesn’t understand what was going through your head but he nevertheless had stopped bringing it up. He realized that the more he asked, the more you pushed back and retreated into the dark. He decided that he’d wait for you to soften up. You always do. 

And that’s how the two of you went back to being friendly with each other. 

He was sitting on your living room couch with Fraulein, brushing her fur with his fingers. Just another territory she had claimed: Shohei’s lap. 

“Shohei, help please!” You ran down the stairs, all dolled up. You put your hair down again, this time, you kept it naturally soft and straight. You also donned a yellow sundress that hugged your body, showing off your natural curves. The hems of the skirt go loose from the thighs down. 

“Can you help me zip this up, please?” You said so casually. When you turned around and showed Shohei your bare, unzipped back, he swallowed hard. 

He held your waist lightly and zipped your back slowly, as if taking his time to gape at the bareness of your skin exposed for him. When his breath touched your neck, you felt goosebumps pop. 

“Let’s go.” You smiled too widely for him, trying to act like the oxygen in your house has not depleted. 

Shohei was a hit with your cousins during brunch. Turns out that all of them share the same interests in baseball and baseball teams. They were passionately chatting on one side of the garden area while you helped your Aunt Olivia set up the table.

“He’s quite the personality, Y/N.” She mused.

“Wherever did you find a man like that, Y/N?” Your cousin Evelyn commented, staring back. “Woot, what a view.”

You smiled and looked at Shohei socializing with your family. The moment the two of you entered Aunt Olivia’s home, everyone stared in awe. After introductions were made, Shohei made connections pretty quickly with his bubbly personality. You can also hear his occasional booming laughter from their group.

You were on your way to the kitchen when a hand on your waist suddenly pulled you from behind. Shohei led you to the empty pantry and pushed you back to the wall, his hands up on the wall and caging you.

“Hi?” 

“Hi.” He looked deep into your eyes, like he was looking for something. “Anyplace in this house, we are pretending, yes?”

“Yes, the moment we stepped out of the car. We are boyfriend and girlfriend.” You confirmed.

“Even here?” His lips shadowed lightly on yours, nose grazing yours. 

“Uhm. Yes.” You breathed and that would be your last breath for a while as Shohei kissed you full on the mouth. 

He kissed you frantically, with need and fervor. You put your hands over his shoulders and his hands reached the back of your leg, putting it over his waist. You stifled a moan as he bit your neck and peppered your chest with small kisses. You can’t help but push your hips forward and roll it against his. 

You broke apart like a deer in headlights when you heard footsteps nearby. You pushed Shohei and straightened your clothes. You wiped Shohei’s lipstick-stained mouth and ran away as fast as you could. Shohei, who was as kiss-hungry and love drunk as you were, could only smirk at your retreating form. 

During brunch, you sat with Aunt Olivia on your right and Shohei, by default, on your left side. You were trying to make conversation about the current weather news report while eating your plate of mashed potatoes, all while trying to avoid any contact with Shohei. 

He noticed you have been avoidant after the hot makeout session in the pantry. He put a hand on your thigh under the table, pinching it with reassurance.

“Are we good, Y/N?”

You nodded wordlessly and smiled at him. Something about the way Shohei’s attentiveness always hits you to your core. You’ve never felt this so cared for before that it’s almost bewitching. 

The party started getting up and divided: your aunts and uncles dancing happily on one side, your cousins taking selfies on the other. Meanwhile you and Shohei were left sitting comfortably by the dining table, enjoying the sweet ambiance of everyone around you. 

You held his arm gingerly, almost seductively when you felt his hard muscles from his shirt. A few moments ago, you had almost stripped him naked in the pantry with all of your aunt’s condiments as your audience.

“Why are you so toned? What are you working out for?” You said jokingly, pressing on his biceps in amazement.

“I’m preparing for the next man who tries to steal you.” He leaned in and whispered in your ear. You giggled. 

“No one can take me away from you!” You whispered back, resting your head on his shoulder. You were on your third glass of wine and it isn’t noon yet. You feel tipsy and giggly in the comfort of Shohei’s strong arms. 

“And this is a toast to our new couple, Y/N and Shohei, may this relationship be longer than the last one.” Uncle Ben bellowed, attracting laughter from the rest of the family. They clinked their glasses and toasted for the nth time today. 

You raised your own glass and sipped your wine. 

“Don’t mind them, they’re always like that when I bring a guy to brunch.”

He caressed your thigh and wanted to push the button. “Which guys?”

“Hm? Oh just Jack and Patrick. Although Patrick doesn’t count, because he’s my bestie.” Shohei looked at you and wondered who Patrick may be. He felt a bubbling feeling at the pit of his stomach. Is he jealous? Angry? That he wasn’t the first person you introduced to your family. He shrugged it off. This is just all an act, anyway. Get your shit together, man.

“This may be my favorite brunch ever.” You concluded, finishing the last few drops of your wine. Shohei stole the glass from your hand and replaced it with his. 

“The weather is perfect, the food is great, all of my mom’s family is here. And I don’t feel alone… thanks to you.” You traced circles on the back of Shohei’s palm with your thumb. 

“Why don’t we end this with a bang, Y/N?”

Shohei’s smile invites you to a peck on the lips. He held the back of your head and gently kissed you deeply, slowly this time. You don’t resist and he doesn’t let go. You hear cheers from the background as you kiss softly. Shohei kisses you for the last time today with the hopes that it removes the uncertainty in your mind. That when he kisses you better this time, it would change your mind. He prays to all the gods that would listen.

You melt into the moment and hope it never ceases, because you go back to normal after it ends. After today, you and Shohei will be two separate people once again. And that hurts the deeper parts of you without you realizing it. 

~~~~

Shohei escorted you back home after the brunch. You rode in complete silence all the way. You really really didn’t want it to end but you also didn’t want to drag Shohei into a life that you’re not a hundred percent sure of yet. 

“Thank you for the ride.” You hung back at the entrance and Shohei waited, hoping you’d say something more. “Thank you for everything you’ve done.”

He sighed. “Wait, Y/N. Is that it?”

“What do you mean?” 

“Are we just gonna go back to the way it was now that you’re done pretending?” He said almost angrily. 

“Well, that’s the plan, isn’t it?”

“That’s your plan. I don’t want this to end. Did you ever wonder why I had agreed to it without asking anything in return? Because I didn’t need to pretend at all. It was all real to me.”

You stood there dumbfounded at the sudden outburst of confession from him. You thought Shohei would be more than willing to go back to his old,  uninvolved life with you. But he was right. You never once stopped to think why he was more than willing to help you get away from Jack, or to help you lie in front of your family. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking properly when I asked you this…” You blink back tears forming. 

Shohei walks up to you and rests his hands on your shoulders. “I don’t want this to end. Do you?”

“I’m not sure I’m ready for all of this, Shohei.” You squeaked, finally finding your voice. 

“You’re the most attentive, thoughtful, and sincerest man I’ve ever been blessed to meet. Even I get breathless thinking how lucky I’d be if I let you in…

“This whole fake dating thing was a mess. I shouldn’t have dragged you into my problems.”

“Y/N. Please don’t shut me out. Let me in, I’d go to the trouble of warding off your ex-boyfriend if I need to. I’ll be here for whatever.” Shohei begged. You shook your head firmly.

“I’m not ready yet, Shohei. I loved every moment I have spent with you, but I need to be with myself for now.” 

Shohei dropped his hands to his sides and stepped back, his eyes glistening with tears. 

“See you around, then.”

You watched him walk away until he disappeared into his home. You closed your door and plopped down on the floor. The tears that you were holding back came gushing out, and finally you were bawling. You didn’t cry this hard when Jack cheated on you but when you saw Shohei walking away because of your own doing, you felt like your world had collapsed. You wept until there were no tears left to cry, until the only pain you have left to bear was the hollowness of what Shohei left. You crawled into a ball by the door, clothes unchanged, makeup running down your face. Fraulein snuggles up to you minutes after, sharing her warmth.

Looks like it's just you and me again, Fraulein. 

In the next couple of weeks, you would rise early to tend to your plants, volunteer additional hours in Novel Nook so you could get home later than usual, and avoid the farmer’s market. You added wearing a baseball cap or large hats as a new fashion ensemble to steer away from eye contact at the risk of bumping into Shohei. The thing  is, your efforts to avoid him were reduced to nil as you bumped into him everywhere you went. When you throw out the trash as early as five o'clock in the morning, he’d be there, warming up or jogging on your path.  When you went to the farmer's market later than usual, he was also there doing after-rush hour shopping. Even administering Fraulein’s medicine time was an arduous task seeing that she still hangs around Shohei’s porch, not understanding your human conflict and emotions towards each other. 

There are days when you feel better and the sun is shining, but there are also moments when you catch yourself at the brink of a breakdown. It takes a while for the loneliness to settle in like an unwanted guest, creeping over your shoulder, sometimes hugging you at night. It wasn’t this hard before you met Shohei, so how was it different now?

“All good, Y/N?” You lost your train of thought at the voice of Aunt Olivia. You couldn’t bear the loneliness and the quiet of your home that you packed your stuff and stayed for a week’s worth of vacation. She joined you in the indoor kitchen table, where you were having your mid-afternoon coffee. 

“Boy problems?” she suggested. One look from you and she already knew. 

“Aunt Liv, how do you know if you’re ready to love again?” You said after a moment of silence. 

“You don’t.” She smiled and cupped your hands. “You fuck around then find out.”

She chuckled to herself. “You remind me so much of your mom. She was always scared of trivial matters, like falling in love.

“But when she had a good taste in it, she never looked back.”

Aunt Liv has always been fond of her little sister. Your mom. And hearing these words from her, reminiscent of how she had been when she was your age, twinged at your heart a little bit. 

“I’m not the one who’d pry on your relationships, Y/N. But he’s a keeper, that boy. I thought he was joking at first, but he seems to be serious about it.”

You knitted your eyebrows together. “What do you mean by that?”

“He said something when I got him alone that day. He’d said, you were tougher than a potato under hot water. But he’s willing to wait for you to soften up no matter how hot it gets.”

Leave it to Shohei to drop potato metaphors to your relatives on their first meeting. 

“When a man like that comes around, I won’t ever let him go. You’re lucky if you ever meet the same kind of man twice.”

You pondered on about Aunt Liv’s advice for the rest of the day; by nighttime, you felt an epiphany dawn upon you. The next day, you packed up and went home earlier than you had planned. 

“Go get him, bubba.” Aunt Liv wished you luck. You’ll need all the luck you can get and hope it wasn’t too late. 

It took you approximately an hour to get home by taxi, the car zigzagging across the street. 

You don’t know why you were rushing. He wasn’t going anywhere, not to your knowledge. He will always be right where you left him but something inside you was telling you that a second more that you’re away from home, and you’d lose him. 

You were trying to catch your breath as you ran on your side of the street when you bumped into Shohei leaving your front lawn, a pail and shovel over his shoulders.

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” He was covered in dirt from the knee up, his white shirt sticking to his body and full of sweat. He looked a little shocked and panicked at being caught mid-exit from your garden. 

“I should ask you the same question. What were you doing in my lawn?” You tried to take a peek but Shohei covered your path with his wide body. “Did you bury a body there?”

“I think that’s a good idea for your fertilizer, Y/N!” He seemed a little agitated and making offbeat jokes to distract you. 

“Step away. What did you do to my garden?” You pushed him with all the adrenaline coursing through you and jogged towards your front lawn, expecting a murder crime scene or worse, a decaying garden. 

Instead, you saw hundreds of tulips in different shades and colors spread all throughout your garden. Purple and yellow tulips lined up the path towards your home. Red and pink tulips danced in the background, swaying every time a soft breeze brushed through. 

“You’re not supposed to see it yet. I thought you’d be back tomorrow night.” Shohei said, rubbing the nape of his head, embarrassed at being caught.

“You remembered when I said… At the farmer’s market…” You stammered.

“Yes, you went on and on about how much you love tulips.” You suddenly remembered the photo before the brunch party. How Shohei was looking fondly at you as he listened to you rambling on about something trivial. It wasn’t trivial to him because it was important to you. And he remembered. 

You turned around and faced him. You held out a hand and wiped a bit of sweat off of his face. “Did you do all of this… on your own?”

He nodded shyly. “That’s not all, though.” He whistled and called Dusty.

“You’re the most stubborn and one hell of a fiery woman. But you’re also the sweetest, softest, clingiest woman I’ve lucked out on. You’re so beautiful sometimes it hurts. After that second kiss, I knew right away that I’d have to fight tooth and nail for you to keep needing and wanting me."

Dusty bursted out of Shohei’s garden stringing along a reluctant Fraulein scruffed by the neck. Both of them were wearing cute red bow ties on their neck each laced with individual messages. 

You pulled Dusty’s message and read, “I want to call you “mom” so will you be my dad’s girlfriend?

You squealed in delight as you unraveled the next message pinned on Fraulein’s bow tie: “I loved him first but can you keep him forever?”

You swooned and laughed at the corniness and the teeth-rotting sweetness. You can’t help but jump into Shohei’s arms and give him a big hug despite all the sweat and grime on his body. 

“Ew, you got all your sweat on me.” You playfully joked at the parting.

“Hmm, you have no choice but to shower with me now.” He lifted you by the waist and carried you on top of his shoulders, both of you laughing and shrieking like newly weds on honeymoon, Dusty and Fraulein at your tails. 

.This place, this scene, and this warmth spreading through your chest up to your fingertips, all of it and the familiarity of it, you realized, is the only thing you need to live a lifetime of love and happiness. You were wondering where it was all this time and you understand now that it had been right beside you all along.

[arzuera]

Conner isn't a clone of Luther and Superman,but Danny phantom and Superman.

Phantom looked at the monitor in the med bay dumbstruck. Several other leaguers were in the same situation. How could this have happened? WHEN did it happen? Sure during the early years of crime fighting, Danny hadn’t been the best at keeping his blood in his body but he had grown by leaps and bounds since then. With GIW and his parents trying to figure out how to take him out, it had become instinctual to make sure that he didn’t leave much of a trace wherever he went. Yet, somehow it had been leaked.

And to Lex Luthor no less.

“I don’t understand. Phantom wasn’t even a part of the league when the Cadmus project was in operation. So how could this be?!” Flash stated as his eyes scanned the results over and over but they remained the same.

“I’m… I’m just as confused as you are.” Danny admitted still feeling overwhelmed by this new information. When Cadmus was in operation he had finally appointed as the King of the Infinite Realms at the age of 21. He didn’t join the Justice League until a little over a year later when some idiotic cultists had thought it was a good idea to try and merge the death realm with the living. Now, going into his second year with the League, Danny was finding out he had been cloned.

Again.

Batman grunted as he leaned back in his chair. “The results don’t lie. I’ve run them about ten times and it has all come up the same. The records on Cadmus had stated that Superman and Lex Luthor were the donors in creating Connor. However, Phantom’s DNA is a perfect match.”

The halfa looked to the teenager who was lying on a bed in the other room unconscious. While out on a mission, Superboy had taken several nasty hits and was severely injured. He had needed a blood transfusion and the poor kid had a horrible reaction when Manhunter tried to use an IV of Luthor’s blood which was supposed to have been a match. (Superman donated his blood as needed. It's not that he didn’t want to help but it was really hard for him to give blood with his body the way it was. Most needles just bent out of shape when they tried to pierce the skin.) It was touch and go but it appeared that Danny’s was a perfect match in more ways than one. Phantom pulled out his cell phone and started texting Jazz. She was not going to believe this.

“Phantom, what are you doing?” Batman asked when he saw him pull the device out.

“Texting my sister.”

Flash, finally, peeled his eyes away from the monitor. “Why?”

“Because, apparently, I have a long lost son who I didn’t even know about and she is going to flip that Superboy is her nephew,” Danny responded with a smirk. He wished he could have delivered the news in person. Oh! He also needed to get a hold of his other sister. Dani was going to be so excited to learn that she was no longer the only clone in the family.

Thoughts were swirling inside of his head. Conner currently lived at the base of the Young Justice team. Mainly because he didn’t have anywhere to go. Would the boy mind if he took him home with him? His castle in the Ghost Zone was massive and a lot of the rooms were unoccupied. Conner could pick as many of the rooms as he wanted for all he cared. So long as he was happy. Danny’s apartment was a lot smaller but he could probably upgrade so that Conner could have his own space. Money wasn’t really an issue anymore. It would probably do wonders for the teen’s mindset if he had a proper home to come back to instead of the reminder that the one person who was supposed to care about him didn’t.

“You are taking this awfully well,” Batman said as a statement but Danny could feel the questioning gaze of the bat when he put his phone away. “I would have thought you would be mad.”

“Oh, I’m livid all right.” Phantom replied and what he said was true. “I just found out today that I have a son because the boy was put into the hospital due to the severity of his injuries and he had existed for at least two years in this world without my knowledge. Two years that were filled with an unprecedented amount of physical, emotional, and mental trauma as he tries to figure himself out and separate his identity from the man who is supposed to be his other father and mentor. Only for that man to have treated him as an abomination for existing in the first place.” The room temperature dropped to the point that the breath of the other Leaguers showed. “To be honest, I had already low-key adopted him because of that fact but now that I know I’m related there are going to be some changes.”

Flash and Batman exchanged a look seeing the green eyes of the ghost king flare for a few moments before settling into a soft pulse. Both were thankful that Superman was off-world, at the moment. Clark would have probably said something that would have set the man off if he had been there for the startling revelation. Superman cared about Conner. He did but he was having a hard time overlooking the fact that he was cloned without his consent. So Conner’s life was basically denied by the one person he wanted to be acknowledged the most.

Superman would have to be told before he came back so that he would be prepared for when Phantom was going to come at him. Hopefully, enough time will have passed so that Phantom will have calmed down and had a chance to figure out what he wanted to say. Regardless, it wasn’t going to be a fun conversation. For now, Batman nodded to the halfa and turned back to the monitor. “Why don’t you go check on Conner? He should be waking up soon and this news might be what he needs to hear.”

“Maybe he won’t see himself as a villain anymore because he shared DNA with one.” Danny nodded and flew into the teen’s room trying to think of a good way to tell him. How was he going to react? What was he going to say? Would he accept Danny as a father? It didn’t have to be a father role right away, maybe even a cousin or brother. Whatever the boy felt most comfortable with. After all, it didn’t matter what Conner picked in the end because he was family.

And he would never be fighting through things alone again.

[i-am-a-secret-ssshhh]

Actual thoughts I've had recently (none of these happened out loud):

*About an angry customer* Who pissed in your pickles?

Holy hot peppers banana man (and then I proceeded to question who banana man was)

Wow, I forget I'm legally an adult.... I should make a will

I feel a headache coming on *older brother gets home from work just moments later* there it is

When I go to hell, I hope they have therapy

*at my mom* You need therapy

If I had limitless power that could do anything, I'd probably just never work again. But, I'd also probably take over the world and fix everything, soooo

All my problems could be solved by truck-kun

*About something out of my control* Ah shoot, it's all my fault

"Does it come in black?" (My brother then told me to stop quoting batman)

Monday is the day of bullshit

There's no such thing as BEFORE AFTERNOON on a Sunday when it comes to waking up

I would probably sleep through the end of the world if I was comfy enough

Wow... I may have made a mistake....

*Waking up in IMMENSE pain* That's, not supposed to be happening. *never brings it up to anybody else*

I wonder if I have enough dexterity to knit with sewing needles and thread

I have been lied to, there was no water in the fridge of the break room. There's no water in the break room at all.

How are you both extremely nice and also a super bitch?

*About my phone* You, you, were at 100% 10 minutes ago and now you're at 96%. And I never took you off the fucking charger!

I risked it all for a picture in a video game (in baldur's gate 3)

God I hope no one records me, my resting bitch face will always betray me. And also I'm very judgemental, but that's besides the point.

I could just, not, keep my opinion to myself though, wouldn't that be much easier for everyone

I can't believe I'm going to be surviving entirely off junk food for 3 days. What bullshit.

*About a fictional older man* He could solve all my problems. (my best friend: No he could not. Me: A bitch can dream!)

I am the family disappointment. What a shocker.

Do you ever shut up?

I'm lonely, not desperate.

I feel like you shouldn't be telling me these things.

Why are you mad at me? You asked me to ask questions if I was confused! I needed clarification! I might be dumb, but I'd rather do it right after being unsure, than wrong confidently.

Don't... don't make me cry over an inanimate object in an anime. Please don't. My heart can't take it.

Like clockwork, every three months, I need a new phone charger. It's almost become a schedule.

A bitch slap would solve, all your problems, my dude. All of them.

God I hate kids. (this is a thought that happens often)

Man. If only you would schedule me. Then I could tell you, I can work more than you think I can

*Has a job* I need another job, this... this ain't it.

Wow, it's almost as if, you underestimate my ability to be responsible. Wow. Are you my mother?

I asked your opinion because I want your opinion, so give me your opinion GODDAMMIT.

How dare you forget my birthday is two weeks after yours? And how dare you insinuate I wouldn't make a cake between now and mom's birthday. That's almost insulting.

I'm just over it at this point.

You sure do talk a lot, but you don't really say much.

[skzthelomlhehe]

A lustful collab

Genre: music, fluff, smut, romance, slice of life.

Warnings: sexual descriptions (as the genre suggests)- fingering, harsh language, bleeding, first time, unprotected sex.

Description: In love with your voice he asks for a collaboration. You invite him to your studio but seeing how he was gonna be late you decide to do... Questionable things. And alas he walks in on you doing that cuz you're dumb and forgot to lock the fucking door and things get spicy hehe~

A/N: Heyy! This is my first time writing at Tumblr and also my first take on smut that isn't roleplay lmao the story itself is mostly fluff with smut in between. Hope it doesn't get too stretchy eeee- I literally came up with the plot while listening to connected fr and got even more inspiration from MOVIE by JUNNY srs! anyways~ hope this little delulu one shot can feed yalls delulu hearts~ also PS: A warning is given before the smut starts JUST IN CASE idk why I added it but I did lmao

Vibe with:

It was beautiful autumn noon. Birds chirping, people probably at home napping or at work or whatever. The street was empty and you were inside your room working on your new song at your parents' house. After a while of humming and singing, you put down your guitar and took off your headphones before looking out the window of your room.

A quiet and peaceful afternoon painted with golden hues of the pretty sunset. Perfect time to record your song. So you decided to take your things which included your guitar, phone, a big tripod and a black foldable chair.

You headed out to the yard with your hands full of stuff barely managing your balance and not accidentally tumbling over and risking every bit of fortune you spent on your set up.

Upon reaching, you successfully manage to put down your stuff in the correct position which was unusual given your extraordinarily clumsy nature. But oh well, luck was just on your side. After you were done with all the silly little labor you finally sat in your chair and started recording. The melody flew gracefully, your guitar cooperated and didn't buzz as your hands guided each note, your voice obeyed your pleas and didn't crack but escaped your lips soft and smooth. The rhymes flowed by as if it were a river devoid of any bounds and for once you didn't feel disrupted or out of breath. Everything went down smoothly which was, once again, quite unusual given your tendency of taking a thousand takes.

All this while, your eyes remained shut as if naturally. You couldn't open them and frankly, neither did you want to. You preferred the soft breeze that tickled your skin, making your hair flow just the tiniest bit. As your song came to an end, you slowly opened your eyes and switched off the recording. Just as you were about to check the video you just took, you were startled by a soft clap followed by a deep, husky yet smooth voice. One that you knew a bit too well. "That was so beautiful! You've got an amazing voice, mate!" The voice spoke out. You looked up, utterly shocked thinking your ears were playing tricks on you. But when you did look up, your heart skipped a beat. In a good way obviously!

There he stood, an averagely tall man, eyes sparkling as if millions of stars were held in them, the dimples at the end of the corner of his smile made you feel like you would drown in them and you honestly don't complain. His hair curled perfectly into a neat fuzz. These details, you knew it too well. A bit too well. Christopher, a well known musician who was the heart throb of many. He's your idol, someone you look upto a lot and also the one who inspired you to go against your family's disapproval and start a career in music. If not for him, you wouldn't be here making music right now.

you quickly put down your guitar on the chair and grabbed your phone stuffing it in your pocket while rushing to him who was standing behind the fence out on the sidewalk. "O-oh gosh thank you...! You flatter me!" You said flustered. You could feel your face getting hotter. Shy? Embarrassed? Flustered? Anything that falls into the similar synonym spectrum, you felt it.

"I'm serious! You make a great deal of a singer." He said, his smile Perking up hiding his eyes. He extended out his hand in a gesture of a shake, "I'm Chris by the way. Just moved here a few days back, nice to meet you!" And almost immediately like the silly fangirl you were, you held his hand, albeit gently unlike those psychos who don't know personal space and bowed "I-I'm Y/N!! It's very nice to meet you too sir!" And with that you just buried your self-esteem deep inside the ground. Sir? Seriously? You could do better Y/N.

Upon blurting out whatever you said, you were met with a rather charming chuckle. You looked up to see the man in front of you laughing, still holding your hand and covering a teeny bit of his smile with his other hand. "You're a funny one, Y/N!" He said, still having the after effects of the little laugh. He let go of your hand, you felt a little disappointed when he did so but you didn't bother to make an expression out of it. "So it seems you live around here? Ive heard you sing but never really saw you before." He spoke, possibly making small talks. "Ah no I used to live here. This is my parents' house, I come by every other week. I live 3 blocks away actually." You spoke quite calmly even though there was a storm raging inside your mind. But no one needs to know that except you and me right? Moving on!

"Ahh~ I see~ well! We'll still be seeing each other some time, no? Can I have your number? I don't really have many friends my age round here." He pulled out his phone and held it in front of you expecting you to type your number in. "o-oh sure..!" You took his phone rather abruptly cuz once again you're clumsy cuz why not~ and typed your number in. You made a quick call from his phone and saved your number in his. You handed him the phone before taking yours out and saving it as well. "great! So I'll text later yeah? I gotta run now, but I'll see you later?" He spoke, looking at you expectantly. You just nodded with a bright smile. "That's that then! See ya, mate!" He cheerfully bid you goodbye, turning away and looking at you one last time with a wink and waving his hands in a peace sign.

That was when you went into a faze. And the next thing you know, you're lying in bed, your stuff neatly organized. "So uhh... I was singing in the yard, someone came, said I sang great, the someone so happed to be my fucking crush and idol and he asked me for my number and he said he'll text me... He... He asked... He ASKED FOR MY FUCKING NUMBER OH MY FUCKING GOD IS THIS A DREAM?!?!?!" After taking your sweet sweet time processing whatever happened you started kicking your feet like a teeny tiny little girl in Love even though you're a fucking (your age) year old woman. (Y'all freaky minors I see you so you better get going)

And then all of a sudden amidst your delulu moment, you get jolted awake to reality by a text notification. When you open your screen your face lights up into a bright ass smile, heart in your eyes and just- delulu all over again.

And just like that you snatched yourself a date (not really) with your favourite local artist! How lucky aren't you? Anyways~ you looked at the clock and it was 4:16 pm already. You rushed up, swifting through your closet only to find nothing wearable. "Do I really not have anything here??? Why did I take everything there with me ugh!!!!" You whisper yelled cuz after your little yelling sesh earlier the last thing you want is for people (especially Chris) to think you're crazy. After failing to find anything wearable you quickly grabbed your things and drove off to your studio.

After a lot of deciding you finally found an outfit you wanted to wear and quickly headed into the shower. And after managing to shower, get dressed, put make up on and do any other finishing touches you were finally ready! You took one last look at yourself into the mirror and felt extremely self satisfied. The clock showed 5:35 pm and it takes about 15 minutes to get there by taxi and the last thing you want is to be late. So you hurried down and got yourself a ride and right to the cafe you went.

You've been to this cafe for a good long while now. It was your favourite spot to chill and the bells attached to the door was always a calming welcome for you. This time although, that same ring sent shivers down your spine. And you didn't know why. You were, as usual, greeted by a gentle young man who was pleased to see one of the regulars back again.

"a single seat again?" He asked as you entered. You shook your head, "not this time boy! I've got company" and soon a giggle left your lips followed by a confused, curious and pleased 'oh?' from the man. He smiled and led you to a comfortable seat. A perfect seat is what you considered it. A big glassed window which gave the perfect view of the lit up streets outside. The cafe was warm and coazy like its name. You took your coat off and draped it over the chair lean before taking a seat. A few minutes of waiting which seemed like hours your clock showed 5:56 pm. You were starting to get worried. Was he gonna ditch you? Were you gonna get stood up by a person you admire so much?

As you let yourself spiral into your overthinking, you were brought back to reality with a knock on the wooden table, "hello? Anyone there? Earth to Y/N!" You looked up, blood rising to your face making it warmer. "A-ah yes! S-sorry about that. I sorta uh... Lost myself there, heh." You mumbled, loud enough for him to hear albeit quite faint. "Right, it's all good!" The man took a seat in front of you, "lovely view." He said, looking out the window. "Ah... Lovely indeed." Your awestruck fangirl eyes stayed glued to this man's face, observing every little detail. His beautifully curly brown hair, big lips that stretched into a smile, that deep and gorgeous dimple that dug at the end of the corner of his smile. Lovely... He was more than just lovely.

"So... Which one of the view is lovely here, exactly?" You didn't realise he was looking at you. His right elbow rested on the table while his tilted head rested on his palm, his face painted with a shimmering smile.

You were dazed by the view in front of you, "You..." You muttered, your head falling off your palms, "N-no I mean both! I mean- no- the outside- or like no uh maybe both? Uh- ah! I don't know!" You hid your face within your hands and heard a soft chuckle. That chuckle tickled your ears turning them bright red.

After much awkward blabbering you guys finally got down to business. Having discussed a few of the details, you guys agreed to meet on the weekends in your studio since his new studio wasn't fully done yet. You both decided to discuss further details and make a contract on Saturday at your studio.

Time passed by in the blink of an eye. Before you know it, you guys have had chatted endless conversations in the meantime. Gotten much more closer. And before you knew it, your phone display showed 8:35 AM on a Saturday morning. Chris was supposed to arrive at 12:30 pm, grab lunch with you and then work on the song.

You looked around realising your room was a total mess. You had 4 hours to clean everything up, shower and get ready and you were quite determined.

You cleared everything up, every Speck of dust lying around was removed in what felt like an instant. You quickly took an everything shower. Washing your hair, shaving, skincare etc etc everything.

After all was done, you checked your phone again. The time showed 12:23 PM. You felt content, giving your chest a light pat of approval. You put on some casual clothes and put up your hair into a messy bun. You patted on some powder, a little blush, tad bit of eyeliner and some soft lip tint to tie it all together.

Just when you were done with everything, you heard your door bell ring. Anticipation grew with each step you took running to your front door. "coming!" You yelled.

Opening the door felt like opening it to a beam of light. You were greeted by a warm smile and a "Hey, pretty!" In the softest most endearing tone youve ever heard. It was like music to your ears. You replied with a "hey handsome~" as a giggle left both your lips.

You knew better than to delude yourself but right now... For a tiny bit... You wanted to think this was more than just some collaboration and something perhaps a little more special. Although getting to Collab with this man was a great deal of honor in itself.

You guys drove to the restaurant in his car. The way his veiny hands glided on the steering wheel made you feel things. The way he spoke, the way he sat there driving, the way he laughed, the way the wind ruffled his hair ever so softy, everything made butterflies rage inside your stomach.

You guys vibed to some music, both singing in tune as he drove. At the restaurant you both chatted while waiting for the food. Chris, curious of the food you were having, took a small bite and regretted immediately with how spicy it was. He coughed "good- lords! How do you eat that?" You chuckled. "or you're just too much of a baby to handle even this little bit of spice? You even have food on your face!" "Eh? Where?" He scanned through the corners of his lips trying to wipe the food away. Watching him struggle, you took a piece of tissue and leaned in to wipe it for him. It felt like time stopped, like some kind of a cliche rom com movie. You both stared at each other for a few moments before he cleared his throat. You sat back down clearing your throat as well.

After the lunch, you both came back to your place. For a second it was awkward but that tension was soon killed as he initiated a small talk that dragged into a conversation.

Getting home, you both talked about the collab. You both jotted down a small contract that his manager would review later to confirm it. But you guys were too excited to wait for any of that and decided to start working on the song.

You both presented ideas you guys had come up with in the meantime. While he took a look at the sheet of printed paperwork you switched on your computer. Time flowed like a river with clear path.

"Should we make some alterations in that part?" He spoke, pointing his pen towards the lit up computer screen. "Which one? This?" You moved your cursor towards the line and selected it. "No not that one, the one below. Here this-" without much thought, his hand trailed to the mouse and placed right about your hand. He clicked the line he had originally pointed to, "I think we could make it a little more feely here-" he paused and realised where his hand was. He looked at you, your face flushed a cute shade of pink. Seeing you, his face, too, flushed in a soft blush before he abruptly took his hand away. "R-right yeah we uh we could do that"

You looked away, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear as you bit your lower lip feeling a slight sense of disappointment having him pulled away. His hand was big on yours, the warm weight of it felt comforting. You've had your hand held by a lot of people, family, friends, exes. But this particular moment made you feel like your hand was on fire and frankly, so was your entire body.

You felt a wet slick in your lady down there. You quickly excused yourself to the restroom. You had considered that maybe it was... Something else ... But you had thought maybe it was just your period coming a day earlier. But once you had made it into the restroom, you realised, it was, in fact, what you had anticipated and that anticipation was definitely not your period.

You went back, things seemed a tad bit awkward. You didn't like it. You didn't like it at all. You hated the tension that had been created just because of a trivial matter like mistakenly putting his hand on yours while reaching for the mouse. Although the tension was there, you guys still managed to get some work done. After a while, Chris got a call from his manager asking him to get home since it was already 9:12 pm.

Time sure flew. You wished time would stop so you could spend more time with him but you knew you couldn't. So you swallowed down your disdain and walked him to the exit bidding him goodbye. It was bitter, but it is what it is.

You went back in finding yourself in a faze again. You could barely make sense of anything that was happening. You saved the progress on your computer and went straight to bed because frankly, you didn't have any energy left for anything else.

(just imagine some spicy stuff cuz idk how to write a wet dream 💀)

The next day, you woke up to your kitty feeling extra soaked. You groaned thinking it was the after effects of the wet dream you just had. But to your utter surprise and absolute agony, it was none other than that annoying cousin you despised. That's right ladies, you got your period. Periodt.

You took a quick shower before cleaning up last night's mess. You knew your cramps were about to HIT today. And you dreaded it. You could barely move around the entire day because of the excruciating pain you were in. No wonder your sex drive was so high and you felt pain in your waist for the past week.

Time ticked to 6 PM and it was about time Chris arrived. And just on time, you heard your doorbell ring. You tried your best not to look too groggy. You opened the door to his bright smile again, all the tension out the window. You smiled back, your abdomen almost on the verge of busting.

"Hey... You alright?" He asked, his eyes glistening in concern. "Y-yeah... I just got my period today and the cramps are wild." You replied. "oh... Then... Should I leave? I mean-.. I don't wanna cause you any more pain" you couldn't believe how painfully nice he was. Gosh he was just... So considerate. But you didn't want to miss this opportunity. You didn't want to wait an entire week. "No! No it's okay! I can do it! Don't worry!" You blurted. "alright then. But let me know if you're in any pain ok?" He wanted to make you feel comfortable and just him being so considerate made you feel like you could get through a thousand cramps.

You nodded before letting him in. You guys started working on the song again. But unfortunately, as optimistic as you were before, you couldn't help but feel the pain resurface ever so often. The pain felt harder each time it returned. At some point you couldn't help but groan, clenching at your tummy.

"Are you... Are you ok? You don't look too good." He held your shoulder ever so softly. "Ye-yeah I just... Need to use the restroom real quick. I'll be back." "Sure, take your time."

Just as you were about to stand up, your legs gave out and you tripped. Chris, who was right there, happened to catch you in time. Had you fell, your head wouldve went straight to the corner of the table cracking it open. Your heart raced. But, you couldn't tell if it was out of fear or the fact that you were practically groping his chest. Or maybe it was both.

You got up in a rush, your head felt fuzzy. "ah im- im so sorry! I didn't mean to!" "No- no it's alright! You were about to fall so I just... It's okay I don't mind... I mean... Uhh I would mind if it was some random person who just got all over me without permission but uhh what I mean is it's alright I didn't think anything of it..." He looked away turning his head, his ears a bright red.

You hurried off to the restroom and locked the door. "Stupid stupid! You stupid girl! Agh why did you have to fall on him??" You whisper yelled. Your hands still felt warm from the sensation. Your nipples had perked up and you felt aroused out of your mind. But you didn't want to feel it. You didn't want to be a creep and make him uncomfortable.

Time skip ...

A month had passed now. You guys got even more closer now. In the meantime you had many more physical contacts that ignited sparks within you. The sessions didn't last in tensed awkwardness anymore and you guys were having fun.

You were checking out your calender as usual to check out if you had something important in the coming days. Your period for this month had ended two days ago, you were supposed to have a doctor's appointment on Tuesday and the rent was due on Thursday. Everything was checked out. You looked at your phone that showed 10:34 am on a Saturday.

You suddenly get a text and your face brightens up when you see the sender of it.

If this was a while ago, you would find it illegal to even think of getting coffee with THE Christopher. Asking him to bring along coffee and having him treat you to pastry as an apology just would've felt illegal and a faraway day dream. But here we are.

You flopped down on your bed, scrolling through the gallery in your phone. It had endless pictures of Chris. Even more of him than you, your family and friends combined.

You squealed with every picture as you realised again and again how attractive he was and this very man was coming over every other weekend for a collab. It was just... So unreal to you.

{Warning: here the smut starts so if you're not ok with that please skip until you see a divider. Thank you.}

As you were thinking of all this, you found yourself feeling a tad bit aroused. You put your phone down as you glided your hand through your body gradually sliding in down inside your shorts.

You rubbed your clit that had been a swollen bud and your hole had been leaking ever since, thirsting for a little action. You pulled your shirt up revealing your breasts as they bounced and you pulled you pants down. Your pants hung by your ankle as you slowly rubbed your entrance gently.

It throbbed. It wanted more. You started thrusting your finger in. First your middle, then both your middle and ring finger and soon your index as well. You gradually became a moaning mess. Occassionally calling out Christopher's name under your breath as you fondled your boobs.

Oh how you wished he were here with you. As you were in your moments of pleasure laying unbeknownst of anything, a thud jolted you awake from your fantasy.

You looked towards the door of your room realising the clear view of your kitty you had put on to anyone who stood there. Horror overcame you as you realised who was standing at the door. Chris. His bag had fallen, possibly due to shock of seeing you like that.

His face was utterly surprised. You quickly closed your widely spread apart legs scrambling to hide but it just didn't work out. "h-how are you here?!" You asked, shame and guilt overcoming you. "We-well the door was unlocked and I called out to you but you didn't hear me an-and I just-" his face brightened red. You looked down unknowingly and realised he had a painful bulge that looked like it would pop out any moment now.

"y-you... Why are you..." You pointed, he looked down and quickly hid it. "I'm oh lords I'm so sorry! I didn't-"

As if your body moved on its own, you got off the bed and walked closer to him. He stumbled as you did, "wha- what are you-"

"don't you..." You shut him off, "don't you feel repulsed? You heard everything didnt you?" "I- I mean I did hear you... Calling my name but.. uh.. no no... I ... I don't feel repulsed... Not in the slightest!" He blurted out. You weren't usually the bold type but today, for some reason, you felt unstoppable. You took the bag of coffee from his hand and set it down on the shelf near the door. "So... You're turned on by what you saw?" He looked away turning his head before softly nodding. That nod in itself made you even bolder. You slowly glided your hands to his shoulders, letting your arms rest around his neck as you leaned closer making him flinch.

"Come on, Chris... Look at me..." You whispered. "N-no I..." "But... I want you to look at me." You looked at him with sparkly eyes. He looked at you clenching his fists trying his best not to lose himself.

"Do you... Want to touch me...?"

"I shouldn't..."

"it's not about should or shouldn't... Do you want to? Or not?"

He clenched his jaw, unable to speak anything. You leaned in closer to his face. "if you don't want it... Push me away right now..."

And with that, you leaned in even more. Both of your lips not even an inch away from each other. You could feel his warm breath against your skin. You felt so... So turned on. You'd have thought he would push you away. But to your utter surprise...

He grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in to a kiss. You flinched and were caught off guard but soon gave in to the passionate kiss. He was rushed, but not too much. It felt good. Your lips touched in perfect harmony. You mewled as you felt his tongue on your lips. Without any complaints you let him in.

Your tongues twirled in a beautiful rhythm. Your breaths clashed with each other. You grabbed onto him a little tighter, pulling him in towards the bed. He pushed you on the bed, kissing you again.

You broke the kiss, unbuckling his pants revealing his throbbing member. His dick was nice and long. Perfectly thick and girthy. You panted at the sight of it and your pussy throbbed. You wanted him. You want to take him.

You got up and pushed him down on the bed as you got on your knees. "Can I...?" You asked and he nodded biting his lips. You could see it in his eyes. Just how eager he was. He huffed as you blowed softly on his tip.

You rubbed it against your soft cheek making him groan. He was already overflowing with precum. You slowly glided your finger through his member. It both scared and aroused you to see his size and how veiny it was. It was throbbing and flinching every now and then.

"just... Do it alreadyy.." he begged and you couldn't wait to comply. You slowly started shoving it inside your face. Licking every bit of it. He threw his head back grasping onto your hair, pushing your head further down. You moaned again finding it incredibly hard to take it all in.

You choked as his tip hit the back of your throat and he let you go instantly. "Ah! Im sorry! Are you ok?" He asked pulling you closer to your face cupping your cheeks. "Yeah.. I'm.. I'm okay. I just don't have much experience with deep throating." You spoke still catching your breath. "it's ok if you don't want to. I don't wanna force you to do something you don't enjoy."

"no it's alright. I want to do it. So just relax." You went back to his groin. This time, taking it slow. Rubbing his member and licking the tip slowly preparing to him all in. Steadily you start putting it inside your mouth. It felt weird at first and you felt overwhelmed but you were determined. You wanted him to feel good.

It gave you immense pleasure when you heard his groans and moans. "Fuck baby you're so hot..." He moaned under his breath. That just aroused you even more. You went back up to his face, kissing him passionately. He pushed you down on the bed and took off his shirt.

Good lords that was the most sexiest and hottest thing you've ever seen. He soon made his way down between your thighs. First kissing your inner thighs along with soft bites that sent shivers down your spine. You yelped a moan when you felt his fingers circling your poor swollen bud and moaned even more when you found him licking it. You thanked your soundproof walls. You thanked yourself who worked endlessly to afford that soundproofing. It just meant you could moan as much as you wanted.

"Shit... Chris... Im... Fuck im so close...!" You mewled. He came up to your face, kissing you relentlessly again as if he was just going to devour you. "can... Can I put it in..?" He asked with these adorable puppy eyes. You felt his tip rubbing against your entrance. "yes.. god... Yes please... I need to Chris... I need you so much... Fuck just put it in already..." You moaned. You couldn't take it anymore. You needed him. You needed him so bad.

"but... There's no condom? Should I go buy some?" He said pulling away and almost getting up. You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer. "Fuck condoms just do it! Im safe." (A/N: please use condoms even if you're safe. Your partner might not be safe 💀)

And without much ado, he started shoving it in. It was your first time. You didn't expect it to hurt so much. A drop of tear trickled down your face as you gasped in shock. "agh... Ah fuck... Fuck fuck fuck that hurts ngh..." You cried. It hurt. It hurt so much. You could feel your hymen tearing apart. Blood trickled down your hole. "fuck... Im sorry... Just... A little more... I promise it'll feel better..." Chris reassured you. He pulled you into a tight hug kissing your shoulders and neck. You cried in pain. It was even more painful than you had imagined.

You wrapped both your hands and legs around him. It was painful, but you wanted to keep going. After a while, it was in. His whole dick was completely inside you, wrapped by your walls. "I'm in... Im in..." He huffed. A wave of relief flooded over you. It hurt, but it was started to feel a little better now.

He gently started moving. Each thrust started making the pain leave your body. And before you knew it, you were overcome by pleasure. Once what was a cry of pain turned to cry of pleasure.

You moaned loudly over and over again calling out his name. "Fuck angh Chris...! Aah... That... That feels so good nngh.." you moaned.

He thrusted inside you, relentlessly. "good fuck baby you feel so damn good... Oh gosh you're so pretty... You're so beautiful... Fuck I love you so much..." He moaned back. You were caught off guard. "you... You what...?" Another tear trickled down your face. Your heart raced like crazy. "I... Im sorry but... I just happened to feel it I... I don't know..." He stopped thrusting feeling hesitant. You smiled before placing a soft kiss on his lips. "Why'd you stop, silly? I love you too... I always have... It feels like a dream to be here like this with you..." You pull him closer. He sniffles, his eyes teary and he smiles before kissing you and thrusting again.

He hugged you, kissing and sucking on your nipples leaving hickeys where only he can see. You suddenly felt a knot form inside your belly. And you knew what it was. "Shit Chris... Im... Im close... Im so close..." You mewled. "I'm... Im close too... Let's... Let's cum together yeah?" He groaned. "Yeah... Yeah let's do that..." You huffed.

Before you know it, his pace fastened and so did both of your grunts and moans. The room filled with noises you made and the noises of skin slapping, kissing and sucking.

And at last, that knot loosened and you felt yourself flinching and trembling and reached your climax. He quickly pulled it out and came on your belly before falling on you. Both of your pants unsteady. He turned to lay down on the bed, your head on his arm. "Fuck... That felt so good..." He huffed. "Yeah... It did.."

.......................

{smut ends here lmao}

After a while of laying there and catching up on breathing. You both decided to take a shower together and clean up. Having done that, you both made your way to the bed and laid next to each other.

"So... You like me?" Chris asked as he caressed your head gently. In embarrassment, you hid your face in his mascular chest. "We-well... I've been a huge fan of yours for a while now and... I've always liked you but... Ever since we've met... I couldn't help but develop feelings more than that of a fan to her idol..." You replied shyly.

"that's... Quite nice to hear actually..." He smiled. You looked at him, your chin rested on his chest. "what about you?" You asked.

"hmm... I've actually seen you before. You performed in the 'Railway Bar and Restaurant' right?"

"Oh yeah... I did. Don't tell me... That was the first time you saw me?"

"I did! I was amazed by your performance. Shortly after I saw you all over my tok tik and tube-you (names are funny cuz I'm pretending to be funny hehe). I really liked the music you made and I wanted to meet your for the longest time. You caught my eye like none other. So when I met you again, I couldn't help but feel this... Attraction towards you."

Your face flushed red. You couldn't believe what you were hearing. It felt like you were dreaming. "So... What are we now...?" You asked, unsure if you should ask to begin with. "I don't know... What do you want us to be?" He asked. "I... Kinda want us to date..." You spoke hesitantly. It felt illegal to ask him that.

But surprisingly enough again, he chuckled. "Sure let's do that." You looked at him in disbelief. He was smiling. And he wasn't lying. He was kidding, he wasn't playing. He really wanted it too. You couldn't help but giggle. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead and then on your lips.

Time skip again....

Another few months later, the collab was finally done and posted. It turned out to be a super hit. Both your and his fandom went crazy over it. At first you both wanted to keep your relationship private but one day a fan saw you guys on a date in a cafe. You were scared his fan would be mad and throw a tantrum but what you didn't expect was that she would start squealing and saying how she was expecting it because of the collab.

A few weeks later you guys came out public. There were two sides of the fans. One side was toxic. They bashed you both for the choice you made. But the majority were nice and supported your decisions.

It was overwhelming, to say the least, but you guys were together and that's what mattered. Both your families loved each other as well. Although your family was a bit hesitant at first, they soon caved in to both your career and your relationship.

Things were looking up and you were happier than ever. Your face was all over different social media platforms, in a good way. Your popularity increased significantly and people loved the music you made.

Now the rest of the story? That's for you to write :3

This is the end of "The lusfut Collab" and I hope you guys enjoyed it! See you again with another oneshot! Byeee!