#guys i also have been obsessed with this series for years it means so much to me that the actors are also fans of the book

[crunchycrystals]

this makes me want to cry

[forbidden-sunlight]

yandere!holy knight with saintess!reader scenario [part one]

Warnings: obsessive behavior, religious themes, implied manipulation, brief mention of suicidal thoughts/ideation.

There may be possible triggers in this story.

If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, please hit the 'back' button on your mobile device or computer and read something much more pleasant than a possible series of unfortunate events.

You are responsible for your own

Internet consumption!

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Hey guys, before we get started, I’d like to address a couple of things.

First, the content here is a bit darker than my previous works, as stated in the warnings above. If you or someone you know is struggling, you aren’t alone. There are many support services that are here to help. I will leave a link to some of these sources in this link here. Tumblr also has their messaging system, Kokobot. I want you guys, my audience to feel safe when reading my stories. If you do not feel comfortable venturing any further, that’s okay. Please prioritize your physical and mental health, above all else.

Second, bullying is not tolerated. If I see any sign of it on here, I will have no choice but to take this story down. Finally, there will be some references in here from The Locked Tomb series by Tamsyn Muir, such as Harrowhark and Palamedes. I claim no ownership over this magnificent series as it belongs to the rightful creator.

With that being said guys, sit back, relax....and perhaps begin to pray for salvation. Because this is past the point of no return :)

Part Two

Part Three

Yandere!Holy Knight had always believed he was meant to serve a greater purpose. Not to accumulate wealth and power like his older brother, only to abuse his authority and hurt people who did not deserve a whipping for a cup of tea that was two degrees too cold to his liking. No. He wanted to help others in his own way, without expecting anything in return. Perhaps…that was why it had been so easy to leave his family and find his place here in the Holy Temple of Aesir. Or it was because he is the second son, the spare heir to the Emery viscounty, that his parents allowed him to leave without so much as a second thought. 

He had given up his name when he was baptized by the high priest, and was reborn as Sir Palamedes. Five years have passed, and he has ascended to becoming the vice commander of the Holy Temple’s paladins.He must protect the Holy Temple, its clergy, and the people of the Helux Empire. This is the oath he took, and is proud to uphold. Yandere!Holy Knight, however, wished the Reverend Sister would take better care of herself. 

The Reverend Sister is a title given to the child chosen by Aesir to deliver His message and protect His children from the wicked monsters who come forth from the swirling, black puddles of miasma. Only the Reverend Sister’s magic can purify the darkness of such an ancient evil. In his mind, there is no one more fitting to being the Reverend Sister than you. Harrowhark. 

God’s Beloved. 

The Possessor of Aesir’ All Seeing Eyes. 

The Holiest Woman in the World.

There are many monikers tied to you. All of them are true, and all of the rumors couldn’t be further from the truth when the bards sang songs of your innocence, your enchanting beauty and ‘swan like neck’. If you had ever heard these lyrics, you would promptly take off your shoe and throw it at them with a low, irritated hiss before stomping away in a huff. 

 Yandere!Holy Knight would probably try very hard to not laugh at seeing, or at least imagining, your annoyance. 

Yes, you were the Reverend Sister  but you were not a naive beauty as everyone believed you to be. You were grumpy, diligent, kind-hearted, and knew the world can be a dark, cruel place. 

The Holy Temple of Aesir had saved you in your darkest hour; instead of throwing yourself into the cold, murky river as a means to escape from the wretched place you had come from, a low-ranking priest had found you. He took you in, taught you everything there is to know about prayer, penitence, and how to embrace the worst part of yourself  even when you wanted to so badly rip it out because it is still part of you. What you had experienced, the hardships, the sorrows…that is life. And to understand that no mortal is perfect, to accept it and use the gifts Aesir had bestowed upon you to help others…that is when you will truly see how beautiful the world is through His Eyes. 

His Eyes that you now possessed. 

No one had dared to look upon them in fear of incurring Aesir’s wrath…yet Yandere!Holy Knight did when he was in the Holy Temple’s care for a year before you arrived, a young man at the age of fifteen. He saw them and thought they looked like a pair of jewels. Sapphires that glowed brightly under the sunlight, and could see everything. Past, present, and future for a brief time. Due to the physical and mental strain that these Eyes have placed on your body even when it was to create illusions or obscure the sight of magical beasts, you weren’t allowed to overuse them. That was why the High Priest insisted that you wore a veil over your face.

You opted to have the seamstress to make adjustments to your mother-of-pearl robes and add a hood to hide yourself from the world. You might have also bribed her to create a matching cloth to wear over your eyes, enchanted so that you could see through it without putting further strain on your vision. 

Rebellious. But you were perfect in Yandere!Holy Knight’s eyes. A Reverend Sister who cared for the congregation, the people, and his men far more than she lets others believe. 

He thought this peaceful life would continue as it had for the last ten years. To watch you from afar and know that you were safe so long as he still held a sword in his hands. But nothing lasts forever. 

One day, the High Priest had cloistered the clergy in the temple’s pews and announced that Aesir had shown him in a vision that the Reverend Sister who had been with them for these past ten years was not the true child of the Creator. It is in fact the young lady standing at his side. A dainty, beautiful lady with pale blue hair that fell past her back, gentle robin’s egg eyes darting from the carpeted floor to the clergy and then to the High Priest. She wore a  strapless white dress with matching gloves that stretched all the way to her elbows. Pear-shaped dangled from her ears, and black lace with a single blue rose attached to the side coiled around her swanlike throat.This stranger, this…noblewoman, is all but ready to accept her duties. From this moment forward, she would be known as Esther. 

“Let it be known, Brothers and Sisters, that the one known as Harrowhark shall be sent into exile for her sins against Aesir. That is the will of the Creator, so let it be so.” 

Yandere!Holy Knight’s heart plummeted into the pit of his stomach at the High Priest’s words. What? He thought. This cannot be true! You are the Reverend Sister, you are God’s Beloved! Why would this man (this fool a nasty voice in the back of his mind growled) deny it now? Ten years. For ten long years, you have been a faithful bride of the Holy Temple. Now, after everything you have down, the recklessness in trying to sacrifice your life for his men on missions, reaching out to the people and listening to them confess their sins in the prayer box because you did not wish to see them suffer and try to offer guidance without overstepping your boundaries….you would just be cast aside as if you were nothing to them? To the Holy Temple, to him?

No. Yandere!Holy Knight cannot and will not accept it. He knows the High Priest. He knows this man would never dare to do something so stupid lest he will incite the anger of the clergy, the people, and the Emperor himself, who is a religious man and knows the Reverend Sister. 

Something is not right. 

He was not the only one who believed it. You did too. You had told him as much later that night, when you found him at the training grounds, trying to relieve his anger by practicing his swings with his two-handed longsword. You were still here. You hadn’t left like the High Priest had ordered you to do so. Thank Aesir. 

If he were a lesser man, he would have scooped you up in his arms and laughed joyously, waking up everyone else in the barracks and gotten smacked across the face for pushing past your five-foot rule. But he didn’t.

You had not been blessed with His Eyes just to pretend that you will unconditionally obey the High Priest’s request to leave and be branded a heretic, a false Reverend Sister, for the rest of your life. No. The woman who will be baptized as Reverend Sister Esther and become God’s Beloved is not who the High Priest believes she is, regardless that this chain of events are happening because of a vision. 

All the sacred texts in the library, all the prayers you have had to learn by heart, not a single one of them contained the words Affection Level. It did not explain why those floated over this stranger’s head, why its dark-pink smoke was encircling the High Priest, a man who possessed just as much holy magic as you did, if not more due to age and experience. You had strained your sight,  vision becoming blurry just to see what was the thing under Affection Level. It was…a bar with lines? Measured in tenth percentiles, from ten to one hundred? What is this sorcery? It isn’t anything you have ever seen before, not even when you have visited monasteries across the Empire for yearly sabbaticals. How did this woman attain it? 

This magic did not possess the gentle warmth of Aesir’s touch, his love towards all creation without expecting anything in return. 

Take. Take. Take. Conquer. Move on. Take. 

That was what you could feel, and you had no doubt in your mind at that very moment, the High Priest’s words going from one ear and out the other. There is an evil presence in the Holy Temple of Aesir. This woman, Esther, is a harbinger. An anchor. She was tied to this evil and she was reveling in it as if she had finally, finally gotten what she desired without lifting a finger. And that terrified you more than anything, the possibility that this sorcery can brainwash the entire congregation and no one would be the wiser. 

Shit. What the fuck is going on? Forgive me, Aesir, for saying such vulgar words in your sacred House, but what the ever-living fuck is going on?

If the sight of seeing this Affection Level  and its abilities did not rattle your bones, it was seeing two tiny names hidden right under the meter. The High Priest…and Sir Palamedes. And inside tiny square boxes right, no, on the left side of their names were the words capture target. 

Yandere!Holy Knight stared at you in disbelief, your confession of what you had seen earlier this afternoon ringing in his ears. “You believe that this woman will bring harm to the Holy Temple, Sister Harrowhark?” He said. “If that is true, then why would the High Priest risk the safety of the congregation? Is it because of the influence of this…Affection Level? And why is my name there?” He was aghast. “How could anyone think of conquering someone if they do not consent to it or do not desire such a thing?”

Like the Brothers and Sisters of the Holy Temple, he had taken a vow of chastity alongside the oaths to protect them and the countrymen. Only clergymen or paladins who were high-ranking would be allowed to marry so long as the union was approved by both the High Priest and the Emperor. 

You blinked at him, jeweled eyes glowing in sympathy as you slowly shook your head. “I do not know, truly. But if Reverend Sister Esther is coming after you, then you must put your safety and well-being above all else. Even my own.” You put your gloved hands in your mother-of-pearls robes, digging around in the pockets before you pulled out a drop-shaped peridot on a silver chain. You placed it in his open palm, and pushed his fingers forward to clench the hand into a loose fist. 

Murky, violet orbs looked at you in confusion, astonishment, and fear. “Lady Harrowhark?” He whispered. 

“Keep this on you, Sir Palamedes. The holy magic stored in here should be able to protect you from whatever this evil is, or at least I hope so. I was able to persuade the High Priest to postpone the announcement of Reverend Sister Esther’s baptism and my exile until after the Festival of the Stars. That will give us one week, while the others are celebrating Aesir’s creation of the world, to find everything we need to know about the Affection Level and how to remove it from Sister Esther before it can corrupt anyone else in the congregation.” You then stepped away from him, turning your back towards Yandere!Holy Knight and throwing the hood of your robe over your head.

 “Recite your prayers, steady your hand, and for Aesir’s sake keep your distance from that woman.”

Then you left the training grounds, disappearing into the night and back towards the Sisters’ sleeping quarters, leaving Yandere! Holy Knight alone in his troubled thoughts. He knelt at his bedside that night, clutching the talisman you had given in his clasped hands as he dutifully murmured the prayers of Fidelity, Honor, and Strength. To protect him from evil’s temptation. 

May Aesir grant him the strength to remain pure of heart and mind before he succumbs to his unholy feelings towards the Reverend Sister Harrowhark, God’s Beloved and the woman he should not have fallen in love with.

Taglist

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@abelheilonwife

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©️do not repost or use any of the characters depicted here without the author’s permission. forbidden-sunlight, 2024

[thankskenpenders]

Help me out here: Why is there so much Ian Flynn hate going around lately? I thought everyone loved that he was contributing to the games. Now suddenly they aren't. I guess that's par for the course for this series but I don't get it. He isn't perfect but I like what he's done. Am I a weirdo?

Ian Flynn has always had a lot of fans, but any creator putting their work out there is going to have detractors as well. That's just the nature of being an artist. To some extent, it's no big deal. He's not a perfect writer. Nobody is! I consider myself a fan of his work, but I've criticized plenty of individual writing decisions from him on here.

But Ian doesn't just have critics. He has his own obsessive hatedom. And the specific nature of Ian's hatedom is... interesting.

A decade ago, Ian was only the guy writing for Archie Sonic, meaning any debates over his work were quarantined within that tiny niche of the larger Sonic fandom. Only people who kept up with the comics month to month had any real reason to have an opinion on the guy, which means we're talking about merely thousands of fans as opposed to millions.

Within that group, he had some haters. You had the people who were mad about story changes made during his run, particularly things like ancillary characters getting killed off (although over the years we've learned that most of those were editorial mandates from Mike Pellerito). You had the people mad that Ian didn't push their favorite ship, with feuding SonAmy and Sonally fans claiming that he was CLEARLY biased towards one or the other. You had the people who just really, really liked one of the previous writers way more - usually Penders, as hard as that may be to believe today. That sort of thing. Pretty normal comic fandom type stuff. Again, it comes with the territory.

Unfortunately, many of those haters only got worse over time, morphing into reactionaries who constantly try to incite Comicsgate type culture war bullshit.

There are people still mad at Ian for making Sally bi and pairing her with Nicole instead of Sonic in the later Archie comics. There have been elaborate MS Paint red string conspiracy boards explaining how people like Ian and Jon Gray have apparently been destroying the franchise from the inside for years by Making Sonic Woke. (Jon gets dragged into this because people are still mad about him drawing The Slap 20 years later. Yes, really!!) There was an unhinged change.org petition trying to get Ian fired, specifically from people who were mad that the Freedom Fighters aren't in the IDW comics. There was even a very sad little fan campaign from these people trying to get Sega to move the Sonic comic license away from IDW and over to Udon, because they thought Udon would bring Sally and Bunnie back and also make them sexy again. There's a lot of this.

(Unfortunately, Penders has also exacerbated this by gossiping about Ian on Twitter and giving these fans ammo, but that's a whole 'nother discussion.)

The thing is, for years, people who only played the games or watched the cartoons had no reason to pay attention to any of this. Now, though, Ian isn't just writing for some weird spinoff comics that only the super nerds read. Now he's writing comics that are canon to the games, and ALSO some of the games themselves, and ALSO consulting on other tie-in media like Sonic Prime, and ALSO writing the official Sonic encyclopedia, and ALSO serving as part of the new Sonic Lore Team at Sega. And on top of all this, he's got an increasingly popular podcast where he fields questions about his work on all of these things, which serves as one of the fandom's main windows into creative decisions being made behind the scenes.

As a fan of Ian's work, it's been really cool to see him rise in prominence. But the dark side of this is that his obsessive haters from the Archie days now have WAY more of a potential audience of their own. Now, every Sonic fan has to have an opinion on Ian. What this frequently means is that you'll have the Comicsgate types taking things Ian writes or says out of context, attempting to get more of the general fandom to yell at the guy.

Unfortunately, there are a wide variety of Sonic fans who take the bait:

You've got hardcore fans who disliked basically any recent piece of Sonic media and are looking for someone to blame.

You've got the people who are concerned about the sanctity of Sonic's canon, who shoot the messenger any time Ian mentions a new retcon from Sonic Team on the podcast - or any time he even mentions the THOUGHT of changing anything about the canon, as we saw recently with the Sol Dimension nonsense.

You've got people who romanticize some sort of mythical artistic vision that Sega of Japan supposedly has (or had) for the franchise. To many of these fans, American contributors like Ian just don't "get" the heart of the series and are trying to turn Sonic into something different. (This "heart of the series" tends to be some mix of Japanese instruction manual lore, the cinematics from Sonic CD, the OVA, and/or the games written by Shiro Maekawa, depending on what Sonic media the fan in question grew up with.)

You've got fans of specific characters or ships who pin the blame for how their faves are depicted entirely on Ian - most vocally fans of Shadow, even though the root problem is that Sonic Team hasn't known what to do with Shadow since 2006. At best this stops at regular old criticism, but at its worst this devolves into claims that Ian has an agenda against certain characters.

You've got fans annoyed by a perceived over-emphasis on comic-original characters in the IDW comics, ignoring the obvious facts that these characters exist because the game cast is so tightly controlled by Sega, and also, you know, that people just like the IDW characters and want more stories about them.

You've got a LOT of discourse over IDW's Sonic being a hero who tries to give his enemies second chances, as if half of Sonic's closest friends aren't already former villains and rivals. Honestly this is very transparently just reheated Steven Universe discourse lmao

You'll also see people who just think they could do Ian's job better. They can't believe that THIS GUY is the American fan working on all these Sonic projects, when clearly THEY understand the characters and lore and themes SO much better than this charlatan.

All it takes is for someone in one of these categories to be unhappy about some recent piece of Sonic media, and for them to come across an out of context quote or comic panel that rubs them the wrong way, and suddenly the leftist Zoomer Sonic fans will join the latest dogpile on Ian alongside the reactionary Comicsgate types who are mad at him for Making Sonic Woke.

In general, when fandoms get upset, they tend to want a scapegoat. A person or two to point a finger at and go "THAT's who ruined the thing I love!" This tends to be based less on reality and more on which contributors are the most visible online. You'll sometimes see teenage and adult fans of children's cartoons single out a storyboarder who's particularly vocal on Twitter, blame them for every story decision they don't like, and harass them off the platform out of a sense of retribution for their favorite ship or whatever. Failing that, fans might choose to blame every nitpick, down to individual lines of dialogue and frames of animation, on a showrunner, just because that's the name they associate with the show. And unfortunately, when it comes to Sonic, Ian is now arguably the most prolific and outspoken contributor on the English speaking internet, and therefore a common scapegoat.

Some of the things I've seen Ian blamed for are truly wild. A lot of people have claimed for YEARS that he's just lying about the existence of creative guidelines and restrictions from Sega - or, as fans call them, The Mandates - even though they're just an inherent aspect of working on a licensed property. Others claim that The Mandates are real, but somehow Ian's fault. A vocal minority of fans have convinced themselves that Ian is the sole reason the Freedom Fighters don't exist in the IDW comics, even though Ian says he's been pushing to bring them back since day one.

Sometimes you'll see people say he ruined shit he didn't even work on. A few weeks ago on Twitter I saw someone claim that Ian had written a rejected script for Sonic Forces in which Tails died. I could not find a source for this for the life of me. As far as I can tell, the rumor seems to have been born from an alleged leaked script for Forces with margin notes from Aaron Webber that criticized the way Tails was written, and also an old tweet where Aaron joked that Tails would die in an upcoming episode of Sonic Mania Adventures. These merged into "Aaron Webber criticized a draft of the Forces script in which Tails died." How'd Ian get dragged into this? Who fucking knows!

It's all just a big game of telephone. All it takes is some asshole to make something up about Ian on Twitter or YouTube or a DeviantArt journal or some forum, and at least a couple people will believe it, and then it gets repeated as fact. Again, this used to be contained by the niche nature of the Archie Sonic fandom, but now there are WAY more people who are receptive to this shit.

It's just sad to me that Ian tries to be so open and honest about his work, to try to explain the rationale for certain things, to keep fans looped in on the direction the franchise is headed, and this just gives the Flynnspiracy types more quotes to take out of context and try to paint him as the devil. If it sounds like I'm being overly defensive and dismissing his critics, man... some of the things I've seen people say directly to him are just unbelievable. People will send paragraphs-long angry screeds in to his podcast that completely tear him apart, and he has to sit there and be like "Well, that's your opinion, and you're entitled to it." People literally pay for special guest interview episodes where they just rapid fire complaints about his writing at him directly to his face. I don't know how he does it. I would snap.

All of this over Sonic the fucking Hedgehog of all things.

I don't know how to wrap this up. Engaging with fandoms online is very tiring, which is why I tend not to do it. Things like this are too common. I guess, just... remember that making art collaboratively is a complicated thing. The people involved are generally trying their best given the circumstances, but they're only human. They make mistakes. But please treat them like humans. Criticism and dogpiling are not the same thing.

[lovebugism]

i am so sorry but reader talking about robin right before making out with eddie is like absolutely the best thing i’ve ever read i’m obsessed i genuinely can’t wait for anything else in that universe that you do

THE CUSTOMER'S ALWAYS RIGHT | god help the girl

summary: in which you come to terms with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with eddie munson. pairing: virgin!eddie munson x reader word count: 13k warning: phone sex, more discussions of shitty boyfriends, j*son c*rver name drop, talks of unhealthy eating practices, smut 18+ mdni! a/n: this ask has been sitting in my inbox for ages now, but i wanted to save it until robin made an appearance in the series! thank you, anon, for being so sweet! and for the few of you who've been waiting on me to finally post <3 hope you enjoy! xoxo

( PREVIOUSLY ) | ( SERIES MASTERLIST ) | ( NEXT )

They only met once, but it changed their lives forever. 

That’s what the movie cover reads at least, but the words have long blurred into a jumbled mess at your tunnel vision. John Bender stares you in the face, but all you see is Eddie — boyish and brazen and scowling because he thinks it makes him look intimidating, but nowhere near as cruel as he seems. 

He’s certainly got the hair for it, much longer and curls far wilder than Judd Nelson’s measly set of brushed-back locks. He’s got the terribly animated personality down pat, too; the one that either makes you laugh uncontrollably or squirm in discomfort when it’s pointed your way. And the style’s a pretty fine match also, though you’d argue that no one sports a leather jacket quite like Eddie Munson does.

Wallowing in your boredom at the empty Family Video store on Main Street — where your best friends slave over mundane work with aching backs and a lingering sense of gratefulness that no customer has been in in well over an hour — you find yourself analyzing each character pictured on the front cover of The Breakfast Club.

Robin would surely be Allison, you conclude rather quickly, because their deadpanned glowers are eerily identical. They’ve also got this sort of atypical aura to them, too, like a dark storm cloud or the promise of a long night. But strangely it sparkles — strikes of lightning or a sky full of stars. It draws everyone’s attention to them; even when they’re desperately trying to hide in the very back of a room.

And Steve would be Andrew, not particularly because of his affections for this Allison-Reynolds-Robin-Buckley hybrid you’ve concocted, but because "popular guy with daddy issues" is a trope that fits him far too well. He’s way more likely to get detention for trying to look cool in front of his assholes friends than for anything actually malicious of heart. But that would’ve been years ago now. He’s not that kind of guy anymore. 

He’s soft and sweet — a Brian Johnson sort of soft and sweet, if you will. If Brian wasn’t the brains, but the sweetest dumbass anyone’s ever met.

You realize then, that Jim Hopper would make a mean Richard Vernon. He’s impatient to a fault, almost too stern at times, but never enough to make you genuinely fearful of him. You’ve found that it’s virtually impossible for you to take him seriously when he’s so cartoonishly angry. It’s a match made in heaven, you find, though Jim might take offense to the comparison.

And if Eddie is Bender, then that’d make you the Claire Standish of the bunch.

She’s dreadfully stylish, a bit stuck-up at times, and perhaps a little bit more spoiled than the average person; but it’s not like she ever claimed to be perfect. And you wouldn’t either.

You’ll take more pride in your wardrobe filled with pretty pleated skirts and flouncy dresses than your somewhat glacial disposition. And you might not be drowning in daddy’s money, but you’re certainly spoiled in other ways — if only in the employee discount at Enzo’s that got you wine for cheap and your connections at Family Video that meant free movie nights whenever you wanted.

The bad boy and the princess was a tale as old as time itself. It’s a fairytale you wouldn’t mind living in if it ended how it did in the movies — with a kiss on the cheek and an exchanged diamond earring in the calloused palm of another. A soft pink smile and a celebratory fist in the air.

But you’ve met your fair share of John Bender’s and none of them had been particularly kind to you, let alone had fallen in love with you. 

Maybe that’s because you were no Claire Standish. Never pretty enough, never mousy enough, never pure enough.  You try and dissect why you’ve never been successfully loved, and all the signs point to you, you, you.

You hope Eddie’s different. You need Eddie to be different.

“Something’s wrong with me,” you blurt out of nowhere.

Well, it’s not totally out of the blue for you. You’d been stewing over that thought since you got there — since you left the woods with damp underwear and the scent of you on Eddie’s fingers.

But to Steve and Robin, who’d stayed relatively silent and locked eyes only once after they noticed how abnormally hushed you’d gone, it catches them quite off guard.

Steve lifts his heavy head from where he mans the counter. His tired eyes leave the computerized catalog for the first time in forty minutes, and he has to rub at them with the bottom of his palms to see you properly. Meanwhile, Robin crouches at your side, taking returned tapes from the bin sitting next to her and placing them back upon the shelf you lean against. 

She blinks up at you, deep ocean eyes swimming with apprehension, like she can sense the spiral you’ve just about twisted yourself into.

“What do you mean?” she wonders, ever the supportive best friend, as she plucks Heather’s, Pretty in Pink, and Weird Science from the bin and sets them onto their assigned rows in the Teen Drama section.

“Eddie won’t fuck me.”

Neither of them is particularly stunned by the unabashed nature of your admission.

Not only have they both fucked you at one point or another, but they’re your best friends — no one’s ever going to know you quite the way they do. It leaves little left unsaid between the three of you, with secrets you’ve all sworn to take to your graves. Steve once stuck a finger in his ass to see if he liked it (he did) and Robin sometimes gets off on her childhood teddy bear (rather ironically named Mr. Snuggles). 

So this? This was nothing. Especially in comparison to all the other shit you’ve confessed to them because god knows the whore of Hawkins has a plethora of stories to tell.

Steve is more shocked by the name that leaves your mouth than anything else. “Eddie Munson?” he repeats with furrowed brows, like he had to have heard you wrong.

You bring your chin to your right shoulder to look at him, then nod.

“Eddie… The Freak… Munson?”

You nod again, slower for him this time.

“You wanna fuck… Eddie Munson?” Steve reiterates once more, as though the idea was too appalling to be true. “Eddie Munson — The Freak?”

“Yes, Steve,” you huff in irritation.

His face contorts into a puppy-like confusion. A frown settles between his bushy brows and he cocks his head to the side, nose scrunching and his lip quirking slightly. He couldn’t look more disgusted if he tried.

“…Why?”

You groan and tilt your head back dramatically. “That’s not what’s important here, Steve. The better question is why won’t he fuck me?”

The boy’s lack of any actual assistance doesn’t surprise Robin in the slightest — his dumbfounded gaze and innate confusion are actually pretty on brand. It just puts all the burden on her, to help you wriggle out of the mess you’d tangled yourself into. 

It’s not like she isn’t used to it, though, nor does she mind doing it for you. She walks you through your emotions like a professional, squashing out all the burning orange embers for you before they have the chance to burst into flames.

“Well, what do you mean he won’t fuck you? Like… did he actually say that or does he just wanna, you know, take things slow?”

The latter would’ve been way too easy. Eddie’s always been nice enough to you. It’d make sense for him to want to stay unhurried and gentle with you, but those words weren’t exactly in your vocabulary. 

The first time you were alone with him, you were getting yourself off on his thigh after making him come in his jeans. The next time you saw him, after four days of him clinging to your consciousness, there wasn’t as much small talk so much as there were two of his fingers stuffed knuckle-deep inside of you.

You don’t know Eddie’s birthday, but you know how he likes to be touched — squeezed and not rubbed. You don’t know his middle name or how he likes his eggs in the morning or what his relationship with his mother is like, but he’s already made you come. Twice.

You are completely, utterly, and totally incapable of taking things slow. So it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be. So it had to be the other thing. The very scary, terrifying, boogeyman of a thing.

“I mean, I offered to give him a blowjob and he completely turned me down,” you lament in reply.

Robin and Steve wince. Like, physically wince. Their faces scrunch and their heads flinch from something invisible. Audible ooh’s fall from their mouths without them even realizing it, because you don’t get rejected. Ever. Especially not after offering to pleasure someone without much of anything in return.

They don’t mean to react the way they do. The visible shock that coats their features is involuntary more than it is anything, and it only adds to your fears.

“Exactly!” you exclaim.

“I hate to say it, but I think hell might be freezing over as we speak,” Steve half-jokes.

“Well, he was working, right?” Robin asks with raised brows. “Maybe he was just busy.”

“Sorry, Rob, but no guy’s too busy for a blowjob.”

“Real charming, Stevie.”

“Maybe he just has a small dick,” the boy concludes with a shrug.

“I felt his dick,” you shake your head almost immediately. The feeling of Eddie’s hard cock through his denim jeans, all rough and warm against your palm, hasn’t yet left you. “It’s not small.”

“Well, maybe he can’t get it up—”

“Yeah, that’s not a problem either.”

Eddie was rock hard when you left him, throbbing and aching and obviously needing some kind of relief. That’s partly why you’d been so ardent to return the favor, though the other half of it was purely selfish — you haven’t seen a more beautiful sight than Eddie Munson getting off. To deprive yourself of that masterpiece made you feel like you were starving.

You have a hard time imagining the raging hard-on just… dissipating after you’d left him. That means he probably jerked off in the back of his van and you missed it. And if he came, right after he promised everything was okay, that means he just didn’t want you to do it… right?

Steve seems to be caught in the same inner turmoil you’re currently stuck in; and for good reason. In all the years he’s known you, he can count on one hand how many times he’s had to turn you down. And every time, it was because he’d gotten back together with Nancy. It was never because of you. Not once. And sometimes he felt like it hurt him as much as it did you. 

As far as Steve’s concerned, you’re so out of Eddie Munson’s league that you’re not even in his fucking orbit — so the freak show, turning you down, doesn’t make whole lot of sense to him.

“Huh…”

“It’s me. It’s definitely me,” you conclude with the shake of your head. A bitter, almost hysterical laugh spills from your lips. “He thinks I’m fucking ugly or disgusting or something. It’s totally fucking me—”  

Robin completely abandons her basket of tapes then. She rises to stand in front of you, looking timid as she does so. Her raised brows form wrinkles on her freckled forehead and her blue eyes widen to reveal more of the whites of them. She looks like she’s approaching a wild animal. A bomb that’s about to explode.

“Okay… You’re starting to spiral, alright? So let’s just try and take a few deep breaths—”

You don’t listen to her. 

Actually, you do quite the opposite, as you begin to blurt every fleeting thought that crosses your mind.

“I’ve made out with nearly everyone in this stupid town— I’m pretty sure I’ve fucked almost half— and you’d think Eddie would wanna take advantage of that, the way everyone makes him out to be some sort of freak, right? But he hasn’t and at this rate, he won’t, and I just don’t understand why,” you ramble without taking in a single breath. “Usually being a slut is a huge turn-on for guys, you know? But what if Eddie thinks it’s gross? I mean, it is gross— I’m gross—”

You only stop for air when Robin takes your shoulders in both hands. She looks less apprehensive and more stern, as she forces you to look at her.

“Look. I love you, but you need to get a hold of yourself, alright? I know you’re not used to being told no, and I know how much it sucks, but shit happens. I’m willing to bet all the money I’ve ever seen that whatever is going on with Eddie has nothing to do with you, okay? And if it’s making you this upset, maybe you should just talk to him.”

“But I don’t wanna seem like I’m too eager, that’s gross—”

“Then find someone else to fuck,” she offers with her signature Robin Buckley half-smile. “I’m sure it would take you less than five minutes to find a willing participant.”

“Yeah, right here,” Steve jokes from the counter with the pathetic wave of his hand and a dumb grin on his lips. 

You don’t hear him over the voices in your head — half calling you crazy for letting a boy drive you this mad over nothing, and the other half bitterly affirming each of your deep-rooted insecurities.

Your face screws up, like the thought of being with anyone other than Eddie upsets you — it does upset you.

“I don’t want anyone else.”

“Then what do you want?” Robin yells in your face, shaking you by your shoulders.

“I want Eddie!” you shout back without thinking. The words seem to spill out of nowhere. It takes you of all people by surprise. No one in this rat trap town would ever expect the whore of Hawkins to want to settle down, least of all the harlot herself. It’s strange; it’s riveting; it’s really fucking scary. “…Fuck.”

The brunette smirks, proud of herself. “Well. There’s your answer.”

“I hate when you’re right,” you mumble to yourself, pouting as she crouches back down again.

“I know.”

It was a terrifying thought, to know that you were head over heels for someone else. You try to come to terms with what that means. 

Sometimes you think you fall in love with a new person every day. A cute guy holds the door open for you, a pretty girl compliments your outfit — they never think about you again, but they’re on your mind for days. It was so easy to develop such meaningless infatuations, especially when you were bored.

But Eddie was different.

He was a nice guy. A nice guy that was sweet to you just for the sake of being sweet to you; not because he secretly wanted something in return. That made you fall for him at first, but then you just… kept on falling. Eddie Munson was an infinite void you couldn’t crawl your way out of even if you wanted to, even if you tried.

And that’s what frightened you the most.

Because if you really thought about it, you’ve only truly been in love a handful of times. And, sure, it didn’t work out — that was normal — but some of them fucking ruined you. 

You’re still trying to figure out who you are without all of the people that have broken your heart. You’re still fighting like hell every day to recognize the person you see in the mirror, while Billy Hargrove fucks off with a new girl every other week like he didn’t totally destroy you.

But, even still, Eddie was completely different. No one’s ever made you feel the way he makes you feel. And it’s more than the stupid heavy petting — it’s more than anything. It’s never been like this before; not even with the blonde mulleted asshole who ripped your heart to shreds. 

And you’re scared that if you get hurt again, you’ll never be able to come back from it.

“Steve, do you have another copy of Fast Times in the back?” you suddenly ask the boy, tossing him a look over your shoulder.

It’s your last ditch effort to rid yourself of the ponderous, gray doom and gloom surrounding you like some storm cloud. Your comfort movie solves all of your problems — or, at the very least, Phoebe Cates does — but it seems everyone else in town has developed a similar fondness for minute fifty-three of the film and got all the tapes off the shelf before you could get your hands on one.

“You know I keep on in stock for you,” he answers quietly.

He reaches below the counter to pull out a spare copy for you, and your heart swells with the rays of a thousand rising suns and the songs of every morning bird.

Steve told you some time ago that he could change. And back then, all it did was piss you off, because he didn’t want to change for the town slut — for the girl he put through the goddamn ringer. He wanted to change for Nancy. The princess bruised his brittle ego a little, and then he realized what an asshole he’d been to everyone, to you.

But as angry as it made you, you never believed him. “Once the King of Hawkins High, always the King of Hawkins High,” you remarked bitterly.

You wouldn’t say it to his face, for the sake of keeping his ego from inflating all over again, but you could tell he was really changing.

He was kinder, he was softer. He stopped caring about what everyone thought about him, about what not caring would do to his reputation, and started giving a fuck about the people worth giving a fuck about. 

Apparently, you were one of them.

“…Really?”

He nods with a subtle shrug. Like it was no big deal. Like it wasn’t one of the sweetest things he’d ever done for you — keeping your favorite movie on hand so you’ll always have a spare, knowing that it’s the only thing that gets you out of a deep, dark funk sometimes.

“Stevie… You’re gonna make me blush,” you lilt with a grin as you saunter over to him, hands innocently laced behind your back. “You need to be careful, Harrington. I’m gonna start to think you actually like me.”

He scoffs. “I do like you.”

“Yeah, when it’s convenient.”

It’s obvious your joke hits him where it hurts. It serves as a bitter reminder of the asshole he used to be, the douchebag he’s trying like hell to grow out of. He looks up at you with a sheepish, honey-tinted gaze before ducking away again.

A year or more ago it would’ve made you feel good, to know that you hurt him just a fraction of the way he hurt you. But you know that that isn’t the same man standing in front of you now, that he’d rather die than make hurt your feelings, and it makes you feel like shit for saying it in the first place. 

“Sorry,” you apologize with a scrunched nose. The palms of your hands dig into the edges of the counter as you lean against it. Your shrug. “It just kinda came out…”

The barcode scanner in his hand beeps as he passes the thing over the back of the tape — never charging you, just getting the movie out of the database.

“So, uh…” he starts before clearing his throat. He focuses his gaze on the computer and types on the bulky keyboard with the tip of his pointer finger. “You really like this Eddie guy, huh?”

“Maybe. I think so.”

“And he’s not, like… a total freak or anything?”

You can’t tell if he’s trying to look out for you or if he just wants intel on what it’s like trying (and failing) to bang the local weirdo. Either way, it makes a smile tug slow at your lips as you joke: “Not in the way everyone thinks.”

“Jesus,” he winces at the obscenity of your words.

“Sorry,” you apologize again, though the laugh that bubbles from your lips after cancels out any hint of actual sincerity. “You don’t need to give me the talk or anything, Steve. I can take care of myself.”

“…Can you?” he half-jokes.

It makes you falter. “Well… With you and Robin and Hopper constantly on my ass, then yeah.”

“Just don’t want you to get hurt,” Steve finally admits, soft and suddenly shy as he hands the VHS over to you.

“That’s rich coming from you—”

He jerks back the tape before you can take it from him, leaving your hand reaching for thin air. His cinnamon eyes glimmer with a foreign seriousness, not completely unkind, but lacking their usual blithe. “That’s why I’m saying it. I just… I want you to be okay.”

Steve is one of the rare ones, you conclude right then in there — in the liminal emptiness of Family Video, beneath fluorescent lights that cast sharp shadows upon his already chiseled features. He was a mythical creature of a man, one who breaks your heart and does everything in his power to mend it again.

He hasn’t forgotten about what he did to you, not like Billy did, and he won’t. Not ever. He saw what he did to you and he never moved on from it, just matured enough to make sure it never happened again. And he won’t let another unworthy douchebag hurt you like he did. Not if he can help it, at least.

And he did try to warn you about Hargrove, to be fair. You were just the dumbass that didn’t listen.

“Well, me and my Phoebe Cates wet dream are golden, Pony Boy,” you promise. He hands you the tape again and lets you snatch it from his grip this time. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Stevie.”

Steve Harrington was right. 

The fleeting thought flashes across your mind for half a second, and you quickly realize that those words have never been uttered in the same sentence before now. But he wasn’t wrong in what he’d said about you, just before you left — you were completely, totally, absolutely, and implicitly unable to take care of yourself.

You nearly passed out in the bathroom after taking the hottest shower of your life, feeling too woozy to slap on anything other than moisturizer because you failed to remember to actually eat something that day. It wasn’t totally your fault, though; if anything, it was because of Eddie and all the butterflies he’d given you that made food the very last thing on your mind.

You half-heartedly dry yourself off, keeping your hair in a towel, while you slip on a cotton set of underwear you’ve had for way longer than what's likely acceptable. Damp and half-naked, you prance into the kitchen to fix Bowie her bowl of dinner before you feed yourself.

You fork a can of wet food onto a flower-shaped plate and let her eat on the counter — because you’re an adult now, and you can do that sort of thing.

The calico purrs while she feasts, but your stomach thunders with negligence. You peek into your mostly bare refrigerator and make a mental note to go grocery shopping when you get paid next week. 

With a lack of food and an even lesser will to cook something, you settle for the half-eaten chocolate bar you keep stashed in the very back of the fridge; kept only for the most special of occasions — when you’re reveling in your loneliness and trying to convince yourself that you can make it on your own.

It was practically the size of your forearm when you first bought the thing at some too expensive candy store in the city. Now it’s no bigger than your hand.

You eat the thing in bed, even though you know you’ll get crumbs everywhere and that it’ll make sleep agonizing for you — if you get any, that is. You’re bound to feel like a total zombie by the time the sun rises and the late-night sweet will likely make its appearance on your skin by then, in a red and raging blemish of a consequence.

You’ll feel empty and starved and surly, a snapping grouch instead of an actual person, until you get some actual food in your system.

And you’re more than aware of all of these things, but you don’t do a single damn thing about them.

You’re nothing but a sulking lump upon an unmade bed, lying in a pitch-black darkness that’s evaded only by the static-y television across your room, trying your best to pretend like you aren’t waiting for Eddie’s phone call. It’s hard to remember to forget him, though, when the movie you’re watching is practically a feature film of him and all the ways he makes you feel.

Spicoli and his terribly inebriated friends slur as they chorus “No shoes, no shirt, no diiiice” and you swear you can feel Eddie’s shoulder bump softly against yours as he laughs, hear every sound of his melodic chuckle in your ear that made you giggle right along with him. The low bass of Moving in Stereo plays in the otherwise empty silence of your bedroom, and every beat feels like the rhythm of your thrusts against his thigh.

Eddie Munson is all-consuming.

Even the thought of him feels physical.

Phoebe Cates all but undresses herself in front of you, but you’re stuck thinking about some guy who lives in a trailer park across town, deals drugs for a living, and can’t graduate high school. You’re a total fucking goner.

Your eyes flutter shut, and instead of the backs of your eyelids, you see Eddie’s trailer. Your lips start to tingle as they kiss his for the first time — hungry, yearning, needing. His thigh is pressed snugly into your cunt, denim jeans rough against your soft cotton panties, and you have to bite back a moan when he tenses every time you squeeze his hard, covered cock.

You can feel it, all of him, like he were here with you now. 

You wish that he were.

His fingers would feel far better, leave far more sparks of electricity in your belly, than the ones as you sneak through the hem of your underwear.

You try and take things slow with yourself, to be as gentle as he had been with you earlier in the woods, but it feels strange to treat yourself with so much tenderness. To touch your pussy like it’s the first time it’s ever been touched. Like it’s a beautiful thing you need to be sweet to.

Maybe you find it so foreign to be careful with yourself because no one has ever been careful with you.

No one, except for Eddie.

Your touch doesn’t rival his. It doesn’t even come close.

No matter how tightly you squeeze your eyes shut or how hard you try to pretend that they’re his fingers inside of you, you can’t make yourself feel as good as he did.

Your fingers aren’t as rough as his guitar-string-scarred ones and they don’t caress your clit with the same methodical care. They don’t fill you quite the same either, nowhere near as satisfying as his much thicker ones.

And you’re no stranger to masturbation, not by any means. Sometimes it’s the only way you can guarantee an orgasm for yourself when you’ve got a partner who cares so little about your own pleasure. But Eddie was different. Eddie cared — so much so, that he’s gotten more orgasms out of you than you’ve gotten from him, which is something you’ve never said about anyone else you’ve been with.

It’s rare and unfamiliar, a bouquet of all things refreshing and terrifying and strange, tied together with a pretty little ribbon.

You know that you can make yourself come. It’ll just take way too long to actually be worthwhile and won’t be nearly as mind-blowing as you need it to be. You won’t be left with trembling thighs and nearly numb legs — just a pitiful excuse for an orgasm that you could get from any one of your exes with half as much work.

What you need is Eddie. 

And you hate that. You hate how much you need him and you’re terrified of what that means.

As far as precedent goes, right when you start needing someone is usually when they start to leave. It’s like fucking clockwork most of the time — like everyone knows that you’re a ticking time bomb and eventually it gets too risky to stand too close to you. 

You’ll just have to keep Eddie at arm's distance. So he won’t see the grenade that you are.

You pull your fingers out of your wanting cunt, still slick and throbbing with a need that you can’t give it, when the phone rings.

The high-pitched shrill in the quiet makes you tense like it’s the first time you’ve ever heard the damn thing. Your breath catches in your throat, first out of fright and then at the inclination of who waits for you on the other line.

Suddenly, you’re scrambling to collect yourself. As though there was any possibility that Eddie might be able to see you through the phone line.

You wipe your wet fingers haphazardly on the cotton of your underwear and sit up straighter from your ungracefully lazed position. Then you count to five — one mississippi… two mississippi… three — so Eddie won’t think you’re some kind of crazy person who doesn’t have anything better to do than wait for his call. 

So he won’t know that’s exactly what you are.

You lift the ruby red rotary from its hook at your bedside table and stretch the corkscrew cord to press it to your ear. “…Hello?”

“Yeah, hi. I’d like to order a pizza. Half pepperoni, half hawaiian.”

You roll your eyes at his dumb joke, even though the familiarity of his voice makes you smile. It warms you like a home-cooked meal, like you were high-pitched and starving before and now you’re on the soothing comedown of finally being satiated.

“Yeah, sorry, we’re closed.”

“Then why’d you pick up the phone, huh?” he teases back. You swear you can hear the grin in his voice. You didn’t know a smile could be so audible. It makes you wonder if he can hear yours — if you’re doing a real shit job at pretending. You anxiously twirl the cord with the pointer finger of your free hand.

“Because I’ve been waiting for you to call me all night, dummy.” 

Your answer is more honest than either of you were expecting. 

Eddie’s sigh crackles through the shoddy reception. “Yeah. Sorry ‘bout that, sweetheart. I’ve been working all night. I only got home, like, five minutes ago.”

You can hear the heavy exhaustion in his voice. “Rough day?”

“Kinda,” he answers with a shrug. You can hear the grating squeak of his mattress as he plops down onto his bed. “I dealt to one of Jason’s goons today… They always give me a hard time.”

“I’m sorry,” is all you can think to answer. 

Eddie’s been the brunt of every joke since seventh grade — people made fun of too big clothes, his too wild hair, his too loud music. But he took it all in stride, laughing with everyone else before volleying a harsher joke back in response. You almost started to think that he liked it. That, somewhere deep down, he was fond of all the attention he got from people who supposedly couldn’t stand him.

But it hurts to know that it hurts him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s not like you did anything,” he assures with a soft laugh. He makes the bold decision to be honest then, too. “You, uh… You made my day a whole lot better, actually.”

You don’t know if he’s talking about the brief fling in the woods or the phone call you’re sharing now or if you particularly care either way. Your heart flutters like it’s been kissed by the wings of a butterfly.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I mean… I don’t know— I couldn’t stop thinking about you, you know. And, knowing that I was gonna get to talk to you again kinda got me through the day, I guess… And, yes, I am fully aware of how lame that sounds, but—”

You don’t get to hear the rest of his excuse, of why what he just told you totally isn’t lame, because you’re covering the receiver with your palm and turning to squeal into your pillow. A far more pathetic sight, in your humble opinion.

There hasn’t been a more fulfilling feeling than this one, to know that he’s been feeling the same way you’ve been feeling about him this whole time. It’s better than all the orgasms he could give you combined, to be loved so wholly.

“…You okay?” you hear his muffled voice ask after you’ve gone suddenly AWOL.

You press the phone back to your ear and nod like he can see you. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good. The phone… fell— you said you just got home?”

“Uh, yeah. I met with Hellfire for a bit at school. We’re almost at the end of the Cult of Vecna, so they’re kinda on my ass about it. The little shits are obsessed.”

“Well, they should be. It’s a really good campaign, Eds.”

“Thanks to you,” he mutters. You can almost picture the glimmer in his button eyes and the shaky half-smirk he always looks at you with when he gets all shy.

“That was all you, Eddie Spaghetti,” you retort. “I still have no idea how you did it.”

“Did what?” he wonders, chuckling a bit at the nickname.

“Make something so beautiful out of thin air.”

Lying in the depths of his bedroom, blanketed by the darkness and bathing in streams of moonlight, Eddie feels his breath catch in his throat. 

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t have a joke to spew out on the spot. He’s speechless, just for a moment, a quick blink of a second, with nothing to say. Because, if he really thinks about it, that’s sort of what happened with you.

You were just his customer and he was just your dealer.

You were a loyal client and then a girl way out of his league that he developed a too big a crush on. Then you made him come in his underwear and washed the sticky stains out of the denim for him. Now you’re on the phone with him. You let him tell you all about his shitty day and apologize like you weren’t the only good thing about it — like you aren’t the only good thing, period.

It’s not the most cliche love story, nor is it the most beautiful, but it has his cynical little heart beating like the wings of a hummingbird.

Then, when all the mushy mess fades like fog, he finally thinks of something to say.

“It’s the witchcraft, sweetheart,” he shrugs to himself. “Didn’t you hear? I’m a devil-worshipping freak.”

“You know that’s not it, Eds,” you retort with the roll of your eyes.

You know that it’s hard, to be a metalhead from the wrong side of the tracks in the eighties — at the height of the Satanic Panic and all the delusional craze. That shit’s followed him since freshman year. Even still, it nips at his ankles like rabid dogs.

Maybe you were never naive or bored enough to believe all the rumors, but Eddie Munson was always more than that to you.

“No?”

“You can blame it on being a freak show all you want, but I know it’s because you’re one of the funniest, smartest, most creative guys I’ve ever met—”

“You must not know a ton of guys then, sweetheart,” he interjects playfully, like he couldn’t stand to hear you compliment him any longer. You’d give anything to see his blushing cheeks just now.

“…You’re kidding right?” you giggle in response.

“Sorry— that’s— I didn’t mean it like— It was— I was joking,” he stammers, frightened that he might’ve offended you in some way. 

It only makes you laugh harder. Both of you know you lost count of all the guys you ‘know’ a long, long time ago. You do imagine it’s somewhere near ‘a ton’, though.

“I know, Eds,” you assure with a contented sigh. “I was just teasing.”

“Oh.”

“The slut and the freak… Who would’ve thought?” you wonder all dreamily, like it’s a fairytale as old as time itself. That’s what it feels like, sometimes.

Eddie isn’t sure what you mean — who would’ve thought you’d be friends? Two people caught in that in-between stage of platonic and romance that’s complete agony and total, total bliss? A couple of kids falling in love—

“It’s sort of kismet, huh?” he answers.

“I think so.”

“So, uh… What are you up to?” Eddie wonders then, equal parts curious and eager to keep the discussion going. He’s frightened any lapse in conversation is going to lead to saying goodbye. 

He wants to stay on for hours, until both of you are fighting to stay awake, and then listen to the sound of your heavy breathing when you inevitably lose — like that isn’t the creepiest thing anyone’s ever wanted. He’ll fight Wayne about the bill if it comes to that, he doesn’t care, he just never wants to stop being this close to you.

“Do you want the real answer or the fake one?”

“Uh… Both?”

“Well, I’d say I was doing something super productive with my night, you know, catching up on all the boring adult shit, but then I’d be lying. And I don’t wanna lie to you, Eds,” you tell him with a teasing lilt playing at the edge of your voice.

Eddie swallows thickly, fearing he’d somehow been caught in his own lie — or rather, his half-truth. He moves on quickly, though not exactly full of grace. “Right. Yeah. Totally.”

“Honest answer is, that the only productive thing I’ve done tonight is shower, and now I’m in bed watching Fast Times and eating all the chocolate in my house, because I can’t cook for shit and I have nothing else better to do with my night,” you admit to him, picking at the thread of your comforter.

“Oh, don’t tell me I missed the ‘Moving in Stereo’ bit,” he agonizes.

“Just.”

“Well, correct me if I’m wrong, sweetheart, but it sounds like you’re having loads of fun tonight.”

“I’m having a lot more fun now,” you assure him.

“Glad I can be around to make you laugh,” he retorts like he’s not all too happy to do it.

“You’re a total comedian, Eddie Spaghetti.”

“If I’m the jester, you’re the queen, sweetheart,” he promises, a grin evident in his voice.

Your breath catches in your throat something fierce; you’re almost worried that he’s heard it. His words pierce your heart, a stroke of lightning or a blade of steel. He’s joking, but it’s so strangely profound, the kindest thing anyone’s ever said to you and it’s dripping in sarcasm. 

It’s sort of Eddie’s love language, you’ve come to understand, to say something so sweet but coated in venom to make it sour again. It makes you feel special, loved, almost.

A fire builds behind your rib cage, sharp and distant and all-consuming.

“Are you alone, Eds?” you ask him suddenly.

The sudden curve ball in the conversation takes him by surprise. “Uh, yeah, Wayne’s at work right now… Why?”

“Because I want you to talk to me…”

“Oh?” is all he can say because isn’t that what he’s been doing this whole time?

“And I want you to say things that… maybe other people shouldn’t hear,” you explain slowly to him.

“…Oh.”

He’s heard about this only once before, the whole phone sex thing. 

It was from Andy in the back of Ms. O’Donnell’s class a year or more ago, though Eddie never called him by that name. Andy, in all actuality, was Jason Carver’s right-hand man, and he meant that in every sense of the phrase. Eddie was more than convinced that the guy was so obsessed with the blonde haired, blue eyed douchebag that he was giving him handjobs on the regular.

But it seemed the dick brigade couldn’t function properly without their leader and Eddie had the misfortune of hearing all the mindless bullshit they were spewing behind him — basketball, parties, girls; in true white bread fashion.

His friends gathered around him like he was telling some sort of secret, though it was loud enough for anyone in a three foot radius to hear. Eddie, caught directly in the line of fire, heard all about Chrissy’s older sister, Wendy, who was two years older and off at college. 

He’d gotten her number from some party he’d crashed. At least that’s how he told it, right before telling everyone that she swore like a sailor when she came and that she told him all the dirty things she wanted to do to him while she did.

“It was like her hand was on my dick, dude, I’m serious. That shit was crazy, bro,” he’d laughed after retelling the whole conversation in excruciating detail.

Eddie rolled his eyes to himself then, inwardly jealous that he’d never get to meet Wendy — or any other girl that would be willing to have phone sex with him, for that matter. His phone only ever rang for telemarketers or a rogue Dustin Henderson calling to annoy him.

But, here you are now, the most wanted girl in Hawkins, offering it to him on a silver platter. He wonders if you’ve done this before, surely you have — oh god, he thinks to himself, what if you’ve done this with Andy?

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you assure him after his unusually long silence. “I know you’re probably busy and tired and everything—”

“No! No, yeah, I— I want to. I totally want to.”

“Okay,” you nod. Petals of a flower begin to bloom in your chest as you lie back in bed, settling further into the mattress. The movie, already long forgotten, serves only as light and background noise. “So… What are you wearing, Eds?”

“I feel like I should be asking you that,” he laughs. 

On the other side of Hawkins, in a trailer in the middle of nowhere, Eddie rises from where he’d originally flopped back onto his bed with the notion that it was going to be a semi-normal night. He props himself against his headboard. His fingers twitch at his thigh.

“Beat ya to it, Munson.”

“Well, I’ll have you know that it is very sexy, sweetheart. I’m wearing the same Hellfire shirt you saw me in, I don’t know, five hours ago — except now it’s got a rip in it because I totally ate ass on the way back to the van.”

He tells you this to make you laugh — it works — but he prays you don’t ask any questions. Because he got it while hurrying back to his van mere minutes after you’d left him, so hard he thought he was going to burst, with no more than seven minutes until his next client arrived.

 Thankfully, he only needed three.

“I love that shirt,” you respond in place of saying what you really want to — ‘I love how that shirt looks on you’ — how it clings to his lean torso and reveals his midriff whenever he stretches his arms over his head.

“She’s a lit-tle worse for wear now, sweetheart,” he lilts.

“I’ll stitch it up for you.”

“And I’ve got on a pair of boxers that are so old they’re practically see through because I’m pretty sure they used to be Wayne’s back in… I don’t know… the eighteen-hundreds.”

Eddie was right. It was sexy, though, for the exact reason they weren’t supposed to be. 

There was something so domestic about it all. You can picture him lying in his bed, in the most comfortable clothes he owns, in the one place he can feel at peace. Like a renaissance painting, something familiar and comforting and beautiful — fuck, you’d give anything to be next to him.

“…I think that means it’s your turn now, sweetheart,” he teases.

“Is it?” you mock in return.

“C’mon. Don’t leave me hangin’ over here.”

“It’s nothing, special,” you assure. Your eye flits down to peer at your own body — nothing special, indeed, you think to yourself. The lilac cotton set came from the grocery store downtown on the clearance rack you so often frequent. “I just have my underwear on. It’s very boring, I’m afraid.”

It’s not boring. Not to Eddie — the boy who prides himself on his insanely active imagination. He might not be able to pass english with his brain, but he can certainly create worlds with it, and it’s too easy for him to picture you. He imagines you, freshly showered, and smelling of the warm lavender-vanilla scent you always smell like, mostly bare and lazing upon a fluffy comforter.

He swallows thickly. “Oh, that’s— that’s really, uh— that’s really sexy.”

His thankful that you don’t seem to mind his poor excuse for dirty talk.

“It’s only because I was too lazy to get into actual pajamas.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

“Yeah?” you press, smiling to yourself and caging your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Yeah.”

“Can I tell you a secret, Eds?” you wonder, made brave enough by his own admission.

“‘Course you can.”

“Before you called…”

“…Uh-huh?” he eggs on, intrigued at the way you trailed off, sounding suddenly shy.

“I was…” The thought of telling him what you were doing mere seconds before he called makes you nervous. It wasn’t like you were ashamed of touching yourself or anything, nor is the art of dirty talking lost on you, but something about Eddie makes you timid.

“You were… what, sweetheart?” he wonders gently, with a too audible grin.

“I was touching myself.”

That’s all you tell him. The words linger and hang in the air of your separate bedrooms and you cling to the silence — almost mortified and anticipating his reply. Eddie, meanwhile, feels like his tongue has swelled in his mouth and all the air has been punched out of his lungs.

“Oh...” he tries to respond without the breath to accurately do so. “…Yeah?”

“You know what Phoebe Cates does to me,” you try to joke.

His laughter crackles through the receiver. “Yeah. I kinda have her to thank for the other night, don’t I?”

“Give yourself some credit, Eds. The hottest guy in Hawkins was sitting right next to me, what was I supposed to do?”

“No way you think I’m the hottest guy in town,” he scoffs. “Everyone knows you’ve got a thing for pretty boys.”

“Pretty boys?” you echo with a giggle.

“Uh-huh. The Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington type, you know?”

“Well, I think you’re a hundred times prettier than he is.”

“Really?” he scoffs cynically, obviously not believing you.

“He wasn’t the one I was thinking about with my hand shoved down my panties,” you admit, immediately quelling his self-doubt. “That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Eddie clears his throat and then stammers, “I— I guess so— yeah.”

“Are you hard, Eds?” you ask in a breathy whisper.

And he just nods to himself at first, too stupid to answer audibly. He can feel himself stiffening in his boxers, only halfway hard now, but getting firmer by the second. Soon, he’ll be aching. 

“Yeah…”

“Can you touch yourself for me?”

Eddie would rather take a bullet to the chest than say no to you — at least, he figures that’d probably hurt less — so he slips his fidgeting fingers through the band of his boxers and takes his warm, stiffening cock in his hand. He squeezes himself just enough to make his stomach tighten.

“Want you to touch yourself, too,” he admits, neither asking or demanding it, just telling you.

“Yeah?” you tease.

“Well, I think it’s only fair, sweetheart.”

You can’t help but notice how breathy he’s gotten — how it shakes on the inhale and hitches on the out. He’s got his hand shoved down his underwear and you’re jealous of the fingers that get to wrap themselves around his cock. You wish they were yours. Both of you will have to settle, it seems.

“Whatever you want, Eds,” you answer playfully. 

You obediently slide your hand back into the warmth of your panties. Your fingers slot between your lips and collect the slick that had gathered there since before you’d even answered the phone. You bring it up to your clit, circling the pads of your fingers there until you twitch, then dragging them down to press into your opening. They slip in with ease. 

Both of you have turned into lovesick idiots, separated by so many miles, and missing the other most ardently. Lying in the depths of your bedrooms, basking in a velvet loneliness, building with a mutual pleasure with nothing but yearning hands and longing sighs.

Eddie’s eyes flutter shut at the sounds of your low moans and fragile whimpers that crackle through the static — beautiful still, but certainly no match to the ones you were breathing in his ear just hours ago. 

His lashes dance across his cheeks as he tries to remember how you’d felt against his fingers, soft like velvet and delicate like silk, weeping and pulsating with need. 

He drags his hand from his boxers and lets the band snap against his pelvis. He spits into his palm and wets his cock with it, sighing as he tugs at himself without much friction.

“Are you wet, sweetheart?” he asks, though the words threaten to get stuck in his throat.

“Yeah,” you whisper back like it’s some kind of secret. 

You work yourself open with your middle finger and slip your pointer in next to it without much trouble. Your walls flutter around them while you fight to find the spot the makes you keen. You’re only able to tease it, fingers not quite long enough to caress it completely. Your thumb keeps working at your clit, though, to make up for the lost pleasure. 

“I’ve been wet since I left you,” you admit through labored breaths. “Haven’t been able to… to stop thinking about you, Eds.”

“Glad I’m not the only one whipped over here, sweetheart,” he manages a laugh.

“No one’s ever made me come that hard before. Not just with their fingers,” you tell him mindlessly, dumb on pleasure, as you feel yourself climbing that peak.

“Really?”

“Never,” you promise, then whine. “Doesn’t even feel as good now… Can’t get as deep as you can—”

Eddie hangs on your every word as he works his palm up and down his stiff cock, squeezing at the base and swiping his thumb over the head with an expert hand. His face scrunches as his stomach starts to tighten, he’s close to coming — too close for his liking. He doesn’t want this to be over so quickly.

“You’ve ruined every other guy for me, Eddie Munson,” you confess, more than pleased to hear how it makes him whine. It sounds like it comes from the depths of his chest, the way it crackles low and needy through the receiver.

“Good,” he grumbles through his pants after he’s gathered himself all over again. “Don’t want anyone else to have you, sweetheart.”

This time you’re the one letting out the most pathetic of whines. It makes a smile flicker at the corners of his lips.

“You like that?”

It sounds so dirty, but you can tell by the sincerity of his tone that it’s genuine. So you answer with a longing truthfulness, a delicate “yes”entwined with a yearning moan.

“You just wanna belong to me, don’t ya?” 

Now, this is dirty talk. The teasing lilt of his tone — it’s almost degrading —  and makes you clench around your fingers. “Yes, please,” you whine, all but pleading for him now.

Eddie’s close, so dreadfully close, with a pleasure so tangible he could taste it. Your words make his cock twitch in his hold as the fire builds in his belly. 

Through your whole-hearted promises and wanting moans, he can hear the sound of your slick through the receiver. The static reception doesn’t do it justice, but the wet click of your fingers working you open was unmistakable.

A moan grumbles in his throat as he digs the crown of his head back into his pillow. “Holy fuck— I can hear you, baby.”

“I’m so wet for you, Eds,” you tell him through fragile slurs, like it wasn’t inherently obvious. 

You were wrong before, about wanting to hide from him. You couldn’t conceal your need for Eddie if you tried. The honey you drip, all sweet and just for him, wouldn’t let you keep it a secret.

“I know, baby, I know,” he nearly coos. “Are you— fuck, please tell me you’re close?”

“Yes,” you promise in a whine. Your thumb presses harder into your clit. It makes your thighs tense until they’re shaking.

“You rubbing your clit for me, sweetheart?” he asks like he knows. “I know that’s what you like.”

You whimper, working at the spongy spot within you as your hips buck off the bed. “Yeah.”

“Keep rubbing yourself like that for me, okay? Want you to keep going until you come for me.”

If he keeps talking to you like that, it’ll come a lot quicker than he’s prepared for. 

It’s too soft to be much of a demand, but you listen obediently anyway, rubbing at yourself though your sensitivity keeps building. It grows like a morning tide, rising and flowing like white waves on an ocean, stirring something fierce in the depths of your stomach.

“Eddie,” you sigh out his name, broken through staggered pants.

You hear his stuttering breaths, too. “Y—Yeah?”

“I’m about to come,” you promise through a whine when the familiar crescendo sends a shock through your body.

“O… Okay,” he responds, pathetically, then whines, even more so.

“Want you to come with me… Please…”

“Fuck— okay. Shit, sweetheart, I’m almost there.”

“What are you thinking about?” you ask him.

“Your pussy,” he answers without thinking — he’s not doing a whole lot of that anymore. “Wish I’d gotten to taste you earlier. Wanna feel you… fuck… Wanna feel you come on my tongue.”

“Holy shit, Eds,” you moan at his words, at the vivid picture they paint in your head.

“And you get so… God, you get so fucking wet. Just want you to drench me, baby.”

It feels good, to be complimented for something boys used to make fun of you for, to realize for the first time that’s it’s sexy — that you’re sexy — and that Eddie is more than happy to drown in you. The feeling almost rivals the impending orgasm that’s bound to hit you like a tidal wave.

“I’m thinking about how I coulda took you on that bench… Just, fucking, get on my knees for you. Shove my head between your legs. Hold your— shit, baby— hold your thighs open, keep you exactly where I want you,” he rambles but then cuts himself off to moan at his own words. “Goddamn, sweetheart. Wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

The moan you let out is pitiful. It leaves your mouth in the most delicate cry. 

No picture has ever been clearer than the one of Eddie between your thighs, your hands knotted in his hair to move him to exactly where you need him most and forcing him there. You can feel his fingers digging into your hips, his rings pressed against your burning skin, and the way your legs tremble on either side of his head.

“Yeah. Keep— Keep doing that. Keep moaning for me,” Eddie tells you. “I’m about to… holy fuck, I’m about to come.”

“Wanna feel your tongue in me so bad, Eds,” you whimper, egged on by the moan he lets out. “Want your cock even more.”

That’s what does him in, the assurance — the promise — that you want him just as bad as he wants you. 

He tightens his fist around his cock, achingly hard and raging a crimson at the tip, trying to imitate the way you’d feel around him. It’s not all that close, not nearly as wet as the honey you’d be dripping for him, but his imagination does the rest of the work for him. 

All at once, you’re on top of him, riding him for all he’s worth, your pussy threatening to swallow him whole. You’ve drenched him, just like he’d begged for, and that wet schlick noise still echoing from the receiver is the evidence of each of your assured thrusts over top of him. 

You’re still pleading for him anyway — for more, for his tongue, for his cock — and he wants so desperately to give everything to you.

“Oh god, baby—” he sputters. He grips the phone in a white-knuckled, fist trembling. “Oh, fuck, I’m coming, baby.”

“Please, Eddie. Please come for me,” you plead over the low sounds of the forgotten film playing across the room and all the dirty wet sounds your pussy makes against your fingers. You sound like you need it, like you want his orgasm more than your own.

“Want you to come with me… Can you— Can you do that for me, sweetheart? Please?” It’s not dirty talk anymore. He’s actually fucking begging you and doesn’t feel the least bit ashamed to do so. 

He wants to hear all the pretty noises you make when you come — that initial cry that stems from the depths of your soul, the high-pitched whimpers that come when the sensitivity builds, and the whines that leave you when it ebbs.

He wants to hear it over and over and over again, like a worn cassette, and play it until the tape spins out.

“Yes…” you promise through a set of stuttering breaths.

There’s no talking when either of you come. Eddie’s long forgotten to talk you through it, but you would barely hear him if he had. The phone slips out of your hand when your grip slackens and it falls to the pillow beside your head.

You chase your orgasm full throttle, working through the crescendo and the strikes of lightning, focusing only on his muffled moaning and the pretty sounds he makes as he comes. 

The breath of your name whimpered through a tight throat is what does it for you. Your body has hardly any time to warn you before you’re gushing all over your fingers, twitching every time the pad of your thumb rubs over clit.

That cry, the one you always let out as you come — all wet and full of need — makes Eddie orgasm right alongside you. 

He swipes his thumb over his head again, collecting the pearls of precum gathering there and sliding them down the base to squeeze himself there like he’d been doing this whole time. He clutches harder this time, imagines it's your cunt locking him in a vice-like grip, and whines in his throat when he comes.

Several loads of it spill onto his cotton boxers, most of it gathering along the side of his hand and dripping down his knuckles. His breath staggers as he works himself through his high, praising you through the phone like you’re the one who brought him to it. 

“Fuck, baby… You’re so good… So fucking good.”

You’ve long settled from your own orgasm, still tingly and numb in some places, but not as gone as you had been just moments before. You still float on a cloud, getting lost as you stare through your window at the half-hidden stars sprinkling the night sky and feeling as though you could reach out and touch them.

You can feel the satin moonlight bathing you, and the jittery static of the neon of the television screen. You can feel everything and somehow nothing at all. 

“I don’t know how you do it, Eds,” you confess, hardly thinking about the words spilling from your mouth when you lazily bring the phone to your ear again.

“Do what, sweetheart?”

“I don’t know… You always make me feel good. Even when you’re not here… Even when we’re not getting each other off.”

“I feel the same way,” he promises you, all mushy, even though he feels like a slob for wiping his hand off on his discarded jeans on his bed. “Just… wish you were here.”

“I wish I was there, too… Wish I could clean you up.”

Eddie’s eyes shut tight as his head tilts back to his pillow at the thought. “Fuck… You’re gonna make me hard again, sweetheart.”

You perk up suddenly as an idea sprouts like a flower in your head. A smile blooms on your lips, and you rise up onto your elbows, glowing with an unanticipated excitement. “How long would it take you to get ready?”

“…Get ready?” he echoes.

“Yeah,” is all you say.

“I mean, I— I don’t know. I figure if I put on some new underwear and a fresh pair of pants, I’ll be good as new... Why?”

“You wanna do something?” 

“Yeah. Sure. Anything,” he answers clumsily in place of saying, ‘Anything to not have to be without you.’

“I wanna go to Skull Rock.”

“Skull Rock?” he repeats. 

Legend has it, you and Steve made that place a local landmark. People have always said that Hopper caught the both of you one too many times up at Lover’s Lake and the Quarry, that you needed a more hidden place to fuck. So you’d stumbled around in the middle of the woods until you found a place the chief wouldn’t think to look for you.

You’d certainly found it. Then every other horny high schooler did too.

It’s the place you go to fuck, the most private place in all of Hawkins — hell, maybe even Indiana entirely for teenagers who can’t get the house to themselves. And as appealing as it sounds, to take you beneath a sky of twinkling stars, Eddie doesn’t want his first time with you to be on dirt or in the middle of the woods. That’s how all the horror movies start, don’t they?

So, needless to say, your answer takes him by surprise.

“Yeah! You can see all the stars really good from there. It’s too hard to see them so close to town.”

Eddie’s heart swells all at once at how sweet you are, like sugar poured directly onto his tongue. You’re not eager to be without him either, it seems, and that thought is as gratifying as it is thrilling. 

You’re an adventure he’s about to go on, without a map or a way out, a journey he’s happy to go into blind as long as you’re holding his hand the entire way through it.

It breaks his heart to hang up the phone. He practically begs you to do it for him, and it makes you laugh — a kind giggle entwined with a tease ‘you’re such a baby.’ It rings in his ears long after the receiver clicks.

Most of all, he hates all the stoplights that separate your place from his. He hadn’t known where you lived before now, not until you uttered it over the phone. He makes a mental note to figure out a quicker way, somewhere through the winding back roads that his old van can speed through to make the distance less daunting.

He pulls into your apartment complex, a quaint two-story thing on the quieter side of town, where the woods are plentiful and the street lamps far fewer. He turns his radio down out of respect for all your neighbors that he’s sure he’ll never meet and spies you through the neon orange porch lights. You shut and lock your door in quick succession, then scurry across the way to meet him.

Eddie leans over to unlock the passenger side door for you, already beaming, and finds you’re smiling too when you climb in next to him. The grin you shoot his way outshines the night sky and makes a bright yellow sun of the girl sitting in his passenger seat.

“Hi,” you’d greeted him, all shy like you didn’t just make him come all over his hand thirty minutes ago.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he volleys back like he always does, with that big ol’ smirk and teasing lilt as he cock his head to the side — using his playfulness to cover up the bashful mess you so easily reduce him too.

Neither of you had gotten particularly dressed up to see each other. All he did was put on fresh under and pajama pants. You succumbed to a smilier laziness it seems, haphazardly brushing through your half-damp hair, throwing on a too big t-shirt, and calling it a day. 

The cotton hangs low at your chest, stretched out and obviously well-loved. It falls well past your thigh, though you spend much of the drive anxiously tugging it down. 

It makes him wonder what you’re wearing beneath it. If you’ve tugged on a pair of shorts or if you’re in the bra and (undoubtedly wet) underwear you’d told him you were wearing over the phone. 

Eddie winds himself up all over again while you sift through the flimsy case of endless cassettes he keeps tucked in the glove compartment that never quite shuts all the way.

“How do you now have any ABBA tapes?” you wonder like it’s baffling, with an Iron Maiden tape in one hand and Cinderella in the other. Metallica plays lowly, nearly inaudibly, from the stereo.

Eddie laughs and darts his eyes from the darkened back roads to look at you, all smiley and bathed in moonlight, before turning back to the road again. “Uh, because I’m not a thirty-year-old woman. That’s the shit moms listen to.”

“Moms and hot girls,” you retort jokingly.

“Right, moms and hot girls listen to ABBA — of which, I am neither, sweetheart. Sorry to be the one to break it to you… Besides, it’s not like you walk around listening to, fucking, I don’t know— Van Halen or whatever.”

“Hey. I listen to Van Halen,” you shoot back.

He scoffs. “Yeah, right.”

“It’s got what it takes!” you sing suddenly, not quite catching the rhythm of the song, but smiling anyway as you reach for his forearm resting on the center console. “So tell me why can’t this be love!”

“Oh, my god— that’s literally their worst song,” Eddie chuckles through the widest grin you’ve ever seen from him. 

It makes you smile big too, looking like an idiot who’s totally head over heels for the boy next to her. And of that, you’re happily guilty of.

“Not true,” you shake your head defiantly. “I love that song.”

“So that means it has to be good, right?” he retorts playfully, shooting you a teasing look, though his beam is more than sincere.

“Obviously,” you answer with a scoff that makes Eddie roll his eyes.

He knows he’s going to start to love it, though, if only because it’s the only Van Halen song you halfway know.

He’s going to hear that song on the radio and he’s going to want to turn it, but he’s going to remember this moment now — the one with you reaching for him while you sing the lyrics to a song he can’t stand, sitting pretty in his passenger seat, while the moonlight blanches your smile and the bare skin of your thighs.

Eddie Munson is going to love that goddamn song for the rest of his life.

He parks as close as he can to Skull Rock, knowing his van can’t work its way that far into the woods. The two of you are forced to walk the rest of the way, not exactly minding it, though Eddie’s incessantly worried you’re going to get cold. 

He’s already forced his jacket upon you, which you took with little fight. It warmed you almost immediately — with his cozy heat and musky cologne.

You make mindless conversation the entire way there, about music and then about his band and then what animal you’d want to be in your band if that were the least bit possible. Eddie chooses a sheep without any hesitation, though you’re confident that a penguin would be far cooler. 

You keep a careful distance between you, at first, like both of you are too scared to initiate the first move. That is, until you trip over a raised branch and nearly eat ass on the forest floor. Then Eddie’s holding your hand the entire way, keeping you close.

“If you wanted me to hold your hand, you coulda just said so, you know?” he jokes. “Didn’t have to go through all the dramatics, sweetheart.”

You try and yank your hand out of his grip in protest then, but he doesn’t let you. In fact, he pulls you closer and twirls you into a bear hug that you happily relax into.

He feels your sigh fan against his collarbone as you rest your head at the nape of his neck, his arms wrap around your shoulders as yours settle at his waist. He rocks you back in forth, in a moment that’s too almost sweet to make fun of.

Eddie finds a way, of course, “See?” he singsongs. “I’ll hug you like this all the time, if you want. You don’t have to almost kill yourself to get my attention, babe.”

“All I did was trip,” you laugh at his theatrics.

“Death by tree root… What a gnarly way to go.”

He holds your hand the entire way to Skull Rock. 

He doesn’t let you go once, not until you’re ascending the large boulders to plant yourselves at the very peak of them. He’s grabbing you again once you settle, though, and the two of you just sit there, for several long moments, just gaping at the stars that dance with life above you. They sprinkle an infinite void with enough light that manages to touch you, trillions of miles away.

There’s a subtle beauty in that Eddie never would’ve appreciated before now.

“Shit, babe,” he breathes through a whimsical existential dread. “You were right. The stars are really fucking pretty out here.” 

You love how much he loves this, to come to Skull Rock with you and count the stars. Any other guy would’ve had their tongue down your throat by now, stuffing your hand down their unbuttoned jeans.

But not Eddie.

He just holds your hand because he likes the feeling of his fingers entwined with yours, grasping tightly onto you while he gazes at an infinite universe — like you might float off right along with it.

His neck is stretched to gape at the night sky. You catch his adam’s apple bobbing every time he swallows. You want so desperately to kiss his milky white skin and sprinkle blotchy red bruises there.

His curly locks fall over his shoulders. He shakes his head to get his bangs out of his eyes while the chocolate buttons of them dart around the endless void.

He’s more beautiful than every star in the sky combined. You can’t be sure of how many that is, of course, but it’s a whole bunch if you had to guess. It makes sense, though, for the prettiest boy in the whole damn galaxy.

“Told ya,” you answer with a smile, leaning over to nudge his shoulder with yours. “You come out here often?”

You’re asking if he takes girls here and he knows it, but it’s not like you’re being inconspicuous about the whole thing. Eddie gauges it almost immediately, the subtle jealousy hinting at your tone — something no one else would’ve caught — and he squeezes your hand in reassurance.

He shakes his head. “No… Never.”

“Never?” you press with raised brows, like his answer shocks you.

“Ever. It’s not really my scene, I guess… But what about you, sweetheart? Never seen you around these parts before.”

You knock his shoulder again, harder this time.  “Shut up. You already know the answer to that.”

“Yeah…” he nods to himself, eyes darting back and forth as he reminisces on something. “You and Harrington, you and Hargrove. Hell, I think I heard about you and Jason one time—”

“That was a long time ago,” you argue. “Before I even knew you, okay?”

“I’m just saying,” he shrugs in defense. “You totally have a thing for pretty boys, sweetheart.”

“I never said I didn’t, Eds. Just that you were pretty, too.”

“Whatever,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes like he isn’t glowing red beneath the moonlight.

“You’re better than all three of them, Eds,” you confess with a sudden softness that catches his attention almost immediately. He turns his attention from the sky to look at you properly again. His breath catches at you sad you look — all beautiful and coated in shades of blue.

“…Yeah?”

You nod and drag his hand into your lap to fidget with his fingers. You trace the skeleton heart on his middle finger, subverting all your attention there because it’s easier than having to look at him now. “Better than all of them combined— not even just them, you know? Out of everyone. No one’s ever been this nice to be before.”

“Me neither, sweetheart,” he confesses with a morose grin. “The freak of Hawkins High attracts a lot of assholes, believe it or not.”

“Is it bad?” you wonder cautiously, like you’re scared to hear the answer. In some ways, you are. 

You hadn’t known him in high school, not really. For obvious reasons, you ran in very different circles. You never even had classes together. There was never any excuse to be close to each other before now, never a reason to become friends. So you didn’t.

You grew to know him as a freak, and he knew you as the town slut. Then somewhere down the line, he became your dealer and now… here you were. 

But you’ve graduated now and he’s still army crawling towards a diploma. You couldn’t save him from the hell of Hawkins High even if you wanted to.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” he shrugs. “Jason and the dick brigade just wanna make my life hell, that’s all.”

“I hope they aren’t,” you respond shyly.

Eddie scoffs then shoots you a smile. “Oh, of course not. Look at me. I’m at Skull Rock with the most wanted girl in Hawkins. I’m living the dream, sweetheart.”

“So you don’t care?” you wonder, peering at him through your lashes, as you twist the silver cross around his finger.

“Care about what?” 

“That I’m a slut,” you laugh like it’s obvious.

Eddie doesn’t think it’s all that funny. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s not like it isn’t true, Eds,” you retort with a trembling smile. “I mean, that’s literally what people call me — most people don’t even care to call me by my real name anymore.”

“I don’t care,” Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t care about that. I don’t give a shit about what people say about you. If everyone cared about what everyone said about everyone, neither of us would be here right now… Because you’d think I was some devil-worshipping freak and I’d think you were too busy getting it on with Chief Hopper.”

You screw your face up immediately at the thought. The mere idea was repulsive. The asshole was practically your father these days. Jim Hopper was in that small bunch of available people you would never fuck, and happily so. 

“I’d never stoop that low,” you joke.

“I like you, how you are, right now,” Eddie promises. “Don’t want you to change a damn thing.” 

His brown eyes twinkle with a sincerity that rivals the stars above you. All of a sudden, you don’t care about a bunch of heavenly bodies light years away from you — you care about this man, the one sitting beside you now, holding your hand even though your palms have gone all sweaty.

It’s too good to be true — the way you looks at you, the way he talks to you, the way he treats you. You’re scared that it’s a dream, that you’ll wake up and find that none of this was ever real. Or worse, that he was, and that he just didn’t care about you the way you cared about him.

It’s almost irrational. Almost. 

But it’s happened before. 

And it’s left you a scarred and mangled mess.

You shake your head to yourself and scrunch your face as you turn to look him. “Have you ever done this before, Eddie?”

“Don’t what?” he wonders with furrowed brows.

“I don’t know…” you shrug. “Any of this? With anyone else?”

He’s grateful he doesn’t have to lie. Or tell some clumsy half-truth for the sake of saving his own skin. He realizes tonight is perhaps the most honest he’s ever been with you, baring his pale soul beneath a silver moonlight. 

“Never,” he answers, unwavering, with a firm shake of his head.

“Really?”

“Really,” he nods, then swallows thickly at a gut-wrenching realization. “I’ve never felt his way about anyone else before.’

“Me neither,” you promise. 

It’s a tad more meaningful coming from you than from a boy who’s never had someone to love and to love him back.

You’re experienced, you’ve found what you like and what you don’t like. You’ve been with guys who have given you the world and guys that have ended yours altogether. And out of all of them — all of the assholes in Hawkins you could’ve picked — you’ve chosen the freak. 

You want him. 

You want Eddie.

The revelation makes him grin. “Promise?”

“Cross my heart, Eddie Spaghetti.”

[gyuwoncheol]

Vantage Point | Meet the Characters & Series Masterlist

Status: Begins tomorrow (January 20)!

Pair: Mingyu × f.reader

Summary: Pulling off the "No Strings Attached" arrangement with his best-friend-turned-best-friend-with-benefits was easy, but when a new condition is added onto the mix, Mingyu didn't realise just how much he held onto you when you finally let go.

Genre: College au. BFFs to FWB trope. Fluff, Humor, Angst, Smut [chapters with smut will be indicated and will contain the necessary warnings]

Author’s Note: Please take time to read this before starting the series ☺️

Hello, my darlings! Finally getting round to posting this after missing the commited date last time due to covid. But welcome!!! 🥳 This is the first story to my Snap Shoot universe! Before you get into it, let me just point a few things. This is the first time I'm ever creating a universe with interwoven stories, and while I've done SMAUs before, this is the first one I've done for SVT and the first time I'm also this adventurous about it. It's definitely very different from what I post on here but I'm having lots of fun putting it together. I know it goes without saying, but I'll say it anyway, this is very much a work of fiction. This is an AU. While Korea may be the assumed setting for this series, it is not explicitly defined. I'm also trying to avoid using lots of Korean cultural references (maybe except for food) such as use of honorifics like "hyung". While many of my other works refrain from over-describing oc's physical features, you may find that in this series (and universe), oc's features will inevitably be defined. You'll find that the visuals of the characters and the aesthetic of the photos/social media posts will be Korean/ Asian. It's a SMAU, so i'll have to place photos and these photos must maintain consistent. I absolutely do not mean any ill intention of being non-inclusive (I don't even fit the same aesthetic as oc).

Again, it's a work of fiction, while I want you to relate to oc, kindly also allow me breathing space to build the character. If you feel uncomfortable at any point in the series, you are very much welcome to stop/unfollow. As mentioned, this is a SMAU, but it contains several chapters which are purely written narrations. All edits (texts, social media posts, etc.) were done by me, however some photos (esp those of Y/N) are from the web, if they are yours, please let me know so that I may credit you or remove the photo. The texts are all done on light mode. Deal with it. This follows a FWB trope, expect lots of smut and suggestive content— specific smut warnings will be available in chapters where they are present, along with other necessary warnings. This series will have lots of fluff and lots of crackhead nonsense humor. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Biggest shoutout to my dearest friend @wongyuseokie who has been nothing but supportive through all of this and through all my dramatic Mingy-induced meltdowns. I love you more than you’ll ever know ♥️

Meet the Characters

Mingyu: Sophomore, studying Film & Photography, yn/Camie's best friend since childhood

Yn: Sophomore, studying Film & Photography with Mingyu, Mingyu's best friend since childhood. Nicknamed "Camie" by her group of friends for her highly concerning camera collection/obsession.

Seokmin: Sophomore, studying Film & Photography, same friend group as mingyu and yn, Mingyu & Wonwoo's housemate

Soonyoung: technically a year older than the 3, but currently a Sophomore with Gyu, Cam and Seokmin after shifting into their major

Wonwoo: Junior, studying Film & Photography as well, Mingyu's guy best friend and housemate in The Man Cave, a brotherly figure to OC, Soonyoung's former classmate in highschool

The Man Cave: shared house near their university where Mingyu, Wonwoo and Seokmin live, and Soonyoung often crashes.

✨Other characters/members will come as the series progresses.

Series Masterlist

To be populated as each chapter is posted. There is no posting schedule. Chapters will just get uploaded as they come.

Teaser

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five 🔞

Chapter Six 🔞

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Tag List!

@strawberryya @idyllic-ghost @septemberskies @ladyblablabla

If you want to be tagged as each chapter comes out, do send me an ask or reply to this post so I could include you in the tag list 😊

[inbarfink]

Okay, I’ve been considering it for quite a bit and I think that if Tumblr existed in Japanifornia… most of us would probably not be aware of the series’ main characters.

Like, lawyers just don’t tend to be high-profile publicly-known figures. Even within True Crime communities or the coverage of high-public-interest cases, people don’t tend to focus on the lawyers as much more than a representative of the defendant and the legal system as a whole. And yeah, you can say this is just because real-life lawyers are Boring and if they did the kind of Bonkers Shit AA Lawyers do we would pay attention to them… but we do actually have textual evidence that Japanifornia treats lawyers not-too-differently than real life.

Mia’s murder, and probably the uncovering of all of Bluecorp’s dirty dealing, was highly talked about, but Phoenix’s actions in court went kinda ignored. And note that this is the case where Phoenix literally defended himself and broke the Demon Prosecutor’s five years winning streak, and that wasn’t enough to draw eyes to his part in this whole case. 

And that’s also generally consistent with how characters treat Phoenix throughout the rest of the games. By the AJ Trilogy era, it’s clear that Phoenix has made quite a name for himself… in the legal world. If you are yourself a lawyer or another sort of legal professional or just unusually interested in court proceeding, you know the name ‘Phoenix Wright’ 

But if you’re just a regular person who cares about the law the Regular Amount, you probably have no idea who this is.

So I’d guess most of Japanifornian Tumblr would probably be aware of a lot of the cases in the games, especially considering how many of them concern, like, corporate corruption and organized crime and legal corruption and international politics and the entertainment industry and other such stuff that makes it likely to get national/international news coverage. And also so many of them are so bizarre and wacky and are thus prime meme fodder…

But most people wouldn’t necessarily know the name of the lawyer the Nickel Samurai blackmailed to defend him after he ordered an assassin to kill the Jammin’ Ninja, or even how involved that lawyer actually was in Matt Engarde’s downfall.

But there would probably be a small mini-fandom of Tumblrina Lawyers and other legal nerds who are ABSOLUTELY obsessed with the WAA, and trying to collect any piece of info they can find about their adventures. 

(That’s also another aspect to consider, the general public in Japanifornia does not have full knowledge of everything we get to see in the game. News coverage of the smaller cases would be extremely minimal and very regional - and even the bigger cases probably won’t give you a full line-by-line record of everything that happened in Court. Apollo Justice was, like, the Biggest Phoenix Wright Stan in the Universe and he had very choppy and partial knowledge of the Gramarye Trial. We have to consider that even folks who are trying to keep track of the AA Lawyers in-universe would not get the full picture from the media. And that’s before we get into fake news and rumors.)

And meanwhile, the rest of Tumblr would probably treat that Fandom the same sort of bemused delight we give to, like, the extremely dedicated gimmick blogs. Like, you’d probably see less posts about Phoenix and Co. as you’d see posts memeing about the fact there’s a Tumblr Fandom for ‘some random law agency in Japanifornia’, they’d be like five thousands people in the notes going “There’s a Tumblr Fandom for WHAT? WHY IS THIS THE FIRST TIME I’M HEARING ABOUT THIS??” and then one person from the WAA fandom going “NO YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND THIS IS THE GUY WHO UNCOVERED THE PHANTOM HE’S JUMPED OFF A BURNING BRIDGE ONCE YOU LITERALLY TALKED ABOUT A TRIAL HE DID YESTERDAY YOU JUST DON’T KNOW HE WAS INVOLVED”. 

Now, that’s all for the Defense Attorneys. The Prosecutors have a bit more publicity. I mean, Phoenix literally heard about Prosecutor Edgeworth on the news.

But also… I do think this publicity is highly regional. Like, Phoenix ended up stumbling on newspaper coverage of Miles because he lives in the same city as him. I’m guessing that most of the series’ Prosecutors are at least casually known not just to Legal Folks, but also generally to people within Los Angetokyo and people involved in Japanifornian Politics… but also not much outside of that sphere either. Again, the series does establish that they are not that well-known amongst laypeople even when they are famous amongst other lawyers

And are generally recognized by fellow legal professionals and journalists and people involved in criminal activity. So the situation with them won’t be that different than with the WAA, they might be a tad more high-profile, depending on how many Tumblr users are specifically from Japaniforina and wanna make memes about the local politics… but those who will get really invested in their misadventures won’t be that different from the kind of people who’d get really into Phoenix Wright. 

Klavier is the obvious exception. Like most Famous Lawyers, he’s actually primarily famous for something other than law. It’s just that in his case, instead of politics, it’s being a world-famous rock star. There’s plenty of textual evidence that the Gavinners are an actual household name and they’d probably have a pretty sizable Tumblr Fandom, but… well… while I assume any casual Gavinner fan knows that Klavier is also a Prosecutor, I’d guess only the insanely dedicated fans and the Haters looking for something problematic would actually start digging into the records of the cases he worked on. But then again, Tumblr does have a lot of insanely dedicated fans and Haters, so maybe Legal Misadventures Involving Klavier would be kinda mainstream on Japanifornia Tumblr.

[daughterofcain-67]

𝒞𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝒟𝒾𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃: 𝓅𝓉 1

(Dean Winchester x Artist/Bartender!Female Reader)

(𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 2) (𝓅𝒶𝓇𝓉 3)

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You’re an artist that fell in love with a mysterious boy right before college. Then he left without any way to contact him. Decades later you’re an artist/bartender and you’re surprised to see who comes walking through the door.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: none that I can think of.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: I have no idea who actually did the cover art for The Prince of Thorns, King of Thorns and Emperor of Thorns by Mark Lawrence, the comic illustrations of the Maximum Ride series by James Patterson, or Cinder by Marissa Meyer. But I loved the artwork for the cover art and illustrations, so they deserve all the credit for their creativity. ((The artwork and references to the books is just to use to build Y/N’s portfolio, I do not own any of the artworks.))

It wasn’t easy being an artist. And it didn’t help that you seemed to be a starving artist at that. Everything seemed to have been done already. You supposed that your creative mind wasn’t as unique as you originally thought it would be.

You had countless sketchbooks in your home, just on one of your many bookshelves, purely dedicated to the sketchbooks you’ve had over the years. You’ve been sketching and drawing for as long as you can remember. You picked up on using water color and oil pastels sometime in high school when you were being experimental with your styles. But over the years you found that your luck expanding on your career was sort of a fifty fifty shot.

When someone hadn’t commissioned you to paint a wall of theirs, or if you weren’t working on a cover for some author - which was also another rare opportunity - You spent your time working at a bar in Wisconsin. It was some way to make some money after all, plus you did get to meet some pretty interesting people.

As for tonight, it was just another Thursday night for you and you were on your break. With that being said, you had your sketchbook out and you were sketching yet again.

Lately, in your personal sketchbook, you would draw the familiar face of a man you used to know. One that probably didn’t even remember your name, but you’d always remember his. You’d always remember his beautiful eyes that reminded you of the green forest, or the way his smile would light up any room he’d step into. You could remember the smell of his leather jacket, or the way that unusual pendant looked a little too good around his neck. You could still remember the sound of his laugh, or the flirtatious little tone and his mischievous smirk. He was a man you knew you could never forget, even after all these years.

“Drawing that mystery man of yours again, Y/N?” A work friend of yours named Danielle asked.

You glanced up at her while she adjusted her glasses and sat in front of you, “He’s no mystery.. just a memory.”

“You know, if you really can’t forget about him then maybe you should look for him.” She suggested and you shook your head.

“That’s not possible. Even when we first met during the summer before my freshman year of college, he was always traveling around with his father. It was a part of his career. And if anything, the guy’s still going it. They always traveled around the country.” You explained and Danielle pouted a little.

“You mean you can’t even track down what business it was? Not even by phone number or anything? Some company they ran.” She said and you rubbed the back of your neck.

“Did he even tell you what kind of business he was a part of?” You shook your head.

“No… he was really secretive and he always told me he didn’t want to freak me out. A part of me wonders if he didn’t trust me. Then after like two weeks together he ghosted me.” You admitted.

“And you’re still obsessing over him? Come on, you’ve really got to let it go. If he was that much of a douche to ghost you and if he didn’t even leave you a way to contact him, then you have got to move on.” Danielle told you and you knew deep down she was right.

You looked down at the picture again of your ‘mystery man’ as Danielle liked to call him. Just as you were about to put the pencil to your paper once more, Danielle’s hand got in the way and she dragged the book across the table and rotated it so she could take a look at your work.

“Okay, this guy can’t actually be real. No one is that attractive.” She said with a chuckle before she looked up at you once more.

“So what did you say his name was again?” She asked as she handed you the sketchbook again.

“Dean… Dean Winchester.”

“Dean… Not a bad name I guess. Better than like Brad or something.” She laughed.

“Any chance that he’s a reader? Maybe he’s seen your cover art on some books.” You shook your head.

“No, he’s not much of a reader. His brother is a reader though so.. maybe? Although who knows if Sam would read any of the books I’ve done the artwork for.” You shrugged, unsure if Sam read any fantasy novels or science fiction.

“His brother’s name is Sam? That’s a little anticlimactic isn’t it? Is it short for something?”

“I don’t think it’s anticlimactic. Simplistic. And no, I don’t think it’s short for anything, but I never really asked Dean about it. Never met Sam.”

“Hey! Y/N! Danielle! Y’all can’t leave me by myself, I just got here!” A second voice said and that was your other friend, Callie. She had a bit of a southern twang in her voice that was definitely different compared to your other coworkers.

You and Danielle both laughed and you got up from your seat. You closed your sketchbook and went back to the back of the bar to put your sketchbook in your backpack. Then you began to resume your shift. The sooner the night was over with, the sooner you could go home and maybe check your emails and see if anyone has reached out to you for any projects.

The next several hours went by and it was closing time at the bar. You walked out of the bar with the two coworkers.

“Have you two heard the news yet about the Nelson’s wife?” Callie asked and you glanced over at her, brow arched upward.

“No. I didn’t even know something happened.” You said.

“Well apparently when Mr. Nelson came home last night, his door was opened up and there were some kind of freaky claw marks on the door. When the boss went inside he saw that his wife’s guts were literally outside of her body. But you wanna know the weird thing of it all?”

“There’s a weird part? Just when I thought things couldn’t get any better!” You asked.

“Ha ha, very funny.” Callie replied, not finding your sarcasm amusing at the moment.

“The weirdest part was that her heart was missing. No weapon was found, no evidence of some kind of fur if it really was an animal attack. The police have searched the place top to bottom to find any clues or evidence of an animal attack. But honestly I’m surprised the bar was even opened tonight.” Callie continued.

“That explains why I hadn’t seen the boss tonight. He must be going through a lot. I couldn’t imagine losing my boyfriend in such a horrific way… and to actually see his wife like that? I can’t imagine.” Danielle said and you frowned a little.

As difficult as it was to learn about the loss of your boss’ wife, you didn’t think that your boss would be missing that much. The Mrs. didn’t exactly have a great reputation after all. She was a bit of the town harlot to put it lightly. It was common knowledge that she had been cheating on her husband for the past three years with several men.

“How is Mr. Nelson taking it?” You asked.

“Well as far as I know he’s been at the sheriff’s office all day for an interrogation. You know how it is, always suspecting the spouse first. I don’t know if he’s actually had the time to really mourn.” Callie replied.

“Well… surely it’s just some freakish accident. It couldn’t possibly happen again. The same animal wouldn’t strike the same town twice, right?” You said.

“I wouldn’t think so.” Callie said.

“Well just incase that animal is still around… make sure you get home safe! Why don’t we create a group text now just to make sure we all get home okay.” Danielle suggested.

“Honestly… that doesn’t sound like a bad idea.” You said and pulled out your phone.

Once the three of you were on the group chat, you split off into your different vehicles to go home. You made it to your apartment and shut the door behind you. You tossed your bag on the couch before you plopped on the furniture, then you reached for the remote and turned on the television.

There wasn’t anything good on TV so you changed the channel to Boomerang and watched some cartoons. They were playing the old episodes of Scooby-Doo and you smiled to yourself. You hadn’t watched this show in years and you felt nostalgic watching it. Then your mind wandered off to the old days. You started to think about the summer with Dean.

You shook your head, deciding that Danielle was right and you really should forget about Dean. It’s been years and you never saw Dean again after the best two weeks of your life. It wasn’t worth thinking about. So you grabbed your computer and checked some emails to see if anyone’s reached out.

Evidently there was an email for some author named Marissa Meyer. She was emailing you to compliment your illustrations for James Patterson’s Maximum Ride comics and for the cover art of some other books. Honestly you were surprised. She was writing to see if you’d be willing to do some cover art for one of her books. She emailed you the plot of whatever story this would be and she said the title she planned was Cinder. It seemed to be an interesting plot so you started typing out the response, letting the author know you’d be willing to make the cover art and that you just needed a deadline for it.

Shortly after you sent the email, you started looking at some inspiration photos on Google and Pinterest and that was when your phone started ringing. When you glanced down, you saw that it was a group call with Danielle and Callie. You smiled and you answered the phone before you lifted the phone to your ear.

“Hello?” You answered.

“Oh good, you answered!” Danielle exclaimed on the other line and you chuckled.

“Don’t worry, no animals have broken in to attack me yet.” You clarified and Callie laughed.

“See, I told you there was nothing for you to worry about. She’s probably getting ready to draw something and you broke her concentration.” Callie said and you hummed a little.

“Haven’t started just yet. Though about water coloring though.” You admitted since it had been a while since you’d used that medium.

“Well next time send a text! That was the whole reason why we made the group chat, remember?” Danielle continued and you grinned.

“Sorry for worrying you. I’m alright, and I’m glad both of you are alright too.” You insisted.

“Are both of you working tomorrow night?” You asked.

“I know I am.” Danielle replied with a little bit of an exasperated sigh.

“I’m not. I’ve got the rest of the week off.” Callie spoke up.

“The whole week? So we’ll see you when, Monday?” You asked.

“Yep. Needed a little me time and what perfect time would that be than having the weekend all to yourself?” She said.

“What about Dylan?” Danielle asked, referring to Callie’s boyfriend.

“He said he was… busy with something.” Callie said.

“You know, Danielle, you and Chris may like this one restaurant on South drive.” Callie said, talking about Danielle’s boyfriend and you felt like the odd one out, not having gone on a date in about three years.

“I’ll let the two of you talk about your boyfriends and your little date ideas.” You said and you were about to hang up before the both of them started talking to you to not hang up.

“Woah woah woah! Why don’t we get you hooked up with someone?” Callie asked.

“Yeah, that would be fun! I mean it’s been a while so what’s the harm in it? We can take you to the bar after work this Saturday night.”

You arched a brow before you looked at your bag that still had the sketchbook with the pictures of Dean in it. You supposed maybe going out this weekend maybe help you get over the memory. Dean was more of a phantom of that summer anyway.

“I suppose that could work. I get off at six. I can get home and get ready by seven or something.” You replied.

“Oh good! Maybe on break tomorrow you and I can go looking for some cute dresses for you to wear!” You cringed at Danielle’s words and you used your free hand to rub the back of your neck.

“Great.” You muttered with nervous laughter.

“Hang on, guys. I have to go. Dylan is calling me.” Callie groaned with some sort of annoyance in her tone and you wondered if everything was alright. However before you asked, she hung up.

“Wonder if she’s alright.” You said since Danielle was on the other line.

“Honestly I think she and Dylan have been in a bit of a rough patch recently. I wouldn’t be surprised if they break up by the end of the month.” She sighed.

“Rough patch? What’s been going on?”

“Well from what Callie’s ranted about, Dylan is developing some trust issues ever since she told him she didn’t want to live together.”

“What? They’ve only been dating for like a month and he wanted to move in?”

“Something like that…”

“Well you’re being awfully gracious for giving them the end of the month to end things. I’ll give them a week and a half if that.” You chuckled.

“You never know. Anyway, it’s getting late. See you tomorrow?” Danielle said.

“I’ll be there.”

Dean rubbed the back of his head as he walked down the stairs. Then he tied the strap of his robe around his waist as he made his way into the library just to see Sam reading a book. Not much of a surprise there. But this time it didn’t seem like it was a research book in his hands.

“Whatcha got there?” Dean asked, hearing his brother hum in response.

“It’s a fantasy series by Mark Lawrence. I’m reading the second one called King of Thorns.” Sam spoke.

“I didn’t exactly take you to be a fantasy ready. Always thought of you as more of a realist.” Dean admitted as he sat down across from his brother before he moved the laptop across the table. Then Dean opened it up so he could see if there was any new cases that sounded like his and Sam’s thing.

“Charlie recommended the book to me. Said that it was pretty good. Like it’s not Lord of the Rings good or Harry Potter good, but she thought it was worth the read nonetheless.” Sam said.

Dean hummed as he looked over at the book again and he caught a glimpse of the front cover, “Cover art’s pretty good.”

“Yeah… Charlie said the artist has done quite a little bit. She’d done the cover art of this trilogy and the illustrations for some sort of comic series based off some YA science fiction books. I think her name is.. oh hang on I think her name might be in the book.” Sam said as he flipped to the back.

“Oh here it is. Cover artist, Y/N L/N.”

Dean’s gaze shot from the book in Sam’s hand to Sam right after he read the name. That was a name he hadn’t heard in years. Felt like centuries really.

“Let me see that. I want to get a better look at the cover.” Dean said and Sam put his bookmark between the pages and handed the book to him.

As Dean looked at the cover, he admired the work. He suddenly began to recall that summer when he was a couple decades younger. Still fresh and when John was still around. He remembered meeting this beautiful girl in Wisconsin. You, in fact.

That was the best two weeks of his entire life. He remembered how great of an artist you were, how much he loved looking through the sketchbooks you showed him. He remembered you telling him way back when that you wanted to be an artist. Seems like you’ve come quite a ways if you’ve done some illustrations and some book covers.

“Has this artist done anything else?” Dean asked curiously.

“Since when were you interested in art?” Sam asked with a smirk as he leaned in, his arms folded in front of him on the table. Then the look of realization went across his face.

“Wait… Y/N. Isn’t that the girl from-“

“Wisconsin? Yeah.” Dean said and he chuckled.

“Honestly the best summer I’ve ever had.” Dean admitted.

“Why didn’t you ever go back to visit her? Is she a hunter? Maybe she could help us on some hunt sometime.” Sam said, trying to be encouraging but Dean shook his head a little.

“No, she wasn’t a hunter. In fact she was far from it. When I met her, she hadn’t even started college yet. Just graduated high school. She had no idea of the darkness in the world that we deal with and well… I wanted to spare her from it.” He said.

“Sounds like you had it bad. Dad wondered why it took you two weeks to end the case. He said it was awful long for you.” Sam smirked.

“Honestly, yeah. I did. if I wasn’t a hunter, I might have stayed. Maybe even go to summer school or work as a mechanic there to make a living just to stick around while she was on her campus. She was a sweet girl but I knew if I stayed, monsters would come and I didn’t want her exposed to that kind of shit just because I stayed around. I finished the case in a week but I stayed the extra week before I had to decide to move on.” Dean continued.

“Do you ever regret it?” Sam asked.

“Honestly, I don’t think she would even remember me.” Dean replied and handed the book to Sam yet again. Sam took it and set it down on the table beside him.

“I think she’d remember… anyway, as far as I know she’s just illustrated for that series and the covers for this series.” Sam said but he pulled out his phone to search your name.

“Here’s something… She’s painted some walls in the local elementary school building as well as a pediatrician’s office. But honestly I think that’s the only commissions she’s had. Other than that, based off her social media she’s just working in a bar.”

“A bartender? A girl of her talent should be working for some comic company. Maybe even character designing for some animation studio.” Dean said with a bit of surprise.

“Well, sometimes people aren’t always that lucky in life. But I agree with you, she is good.” Sam sighed as he closed out his phone before putting it back in his pocket. Then he turned his attention back to Dean who was looking back at the computer screen in front of him.

“Find anything worth while?” He asked his older brother.

“Well speaking of Wisconsin…. Turns out some bar owner’s wife was found dead. Police are calling it an animal attack but there wasn’t any evidence of an animal left behind. Then again there wasn’t exactly any evidence of humans either because apparently, intestines were outside the poor woman’s body and her heart was missing.” He said.

“So… werewolf maybe?” Sam suggested.

“That’s my first thought. We might as well head that way and check it out for ourselves.” Dean said and Sam nodded before Dean decided to get up so he could take a shower and get dressed before going on the hunt.

When Dean made it into his room, he decided that’s before he’d get dressed he’d look for something.

Honestly he wasn’t even sure if he still had this amongst his memorabilia. He didn’t exactly carry ugh outside of his pictures of his parents, Bobby and Sam and himself when they were younger. But when Dean opened up the auto man at the end of his bed and started looking through old pictures and papers, he moved his father’s journal to the side and then he found a black folder.

Dean let out a breath of relief as he pulled the black folder out and he sat down on the bed. The field was made of paper and it was a bit worn with the years of being moved around since they went from motel to motel a lot. Then Dean opened up the folder and he was pleasantly surprised to find that what he was looking for was still inside.

Inside of the folder there was a sheet of sketch paper with a drawing of both you and him on it. It was an old picture, Dean’s hair was longer and he didn’t quite have bags under his yees from the years of losing sleep because of a hunt. Then there was you, and you were even more gorgeous in person. Your talented hand didn’t give you justice on paper.

In the picture, you were wrapped up in his arms while the two of you sat down on a blanket in the grass. Both of you had a peaceful expression as you looked out at the lake. Dean could still remember the way you felt in his arms, remembering the moment you had drawn in the picture. It was the second to the last night that he spent in Wisconsin.

Dean smiled at the memory, knowing that even after so many years you still had a piece of his heart. But then reality started to get to him and he wondered if you had been married after college graduation. Did you have a family of your own? Dean calculated and by this time you had to be in your mid thirties like he was, right? Most people were arrived by then if they were lucky, and any man would be lucky to have someone so special like you.

Honestly Dean couldn’t help but wonder if maybe you still thought about him once in a while. Maybe late at night when you were watching a movie drinking some wine and drawing one of those covers Sam showed him, he wondered if you thought about him.

Dean put the picture back into the folder and placed it on the night table beside his bed before he grabbed his bag and some clothes to pack up. Then he got his other pair of jeans and a shirt to wear before he headed off to the shower.

Two days had gone by and that was the night you were supposed to go out with Danielle and Callie to some sort of club or whatever. Honestly you weren’t sure if dancing was your thing. You weren’t in your twenties anymore after all but when you were texting Danielle about it all she told you was that it was something to put you out there, give you something fun to look forward to this weekend.

At the moment you weren’t really focused on your little outing that night. You were a little more concerned about the fact that you hadn’t heard from Callie in the last couple of days.

It wasn’t like Callie. She typically texted you and Danielle at least once daily whether she texted some sort of joke or sent a picture of some silly picture first thing in the morning before going about her day and living her life on her days off. But it had been two days and you found it odd that she hadn’t sent any memes, jokes, or even talked about going out that night.

When the door opened you happened to glance up and you saw Danielle running in with a frantic expression across her features. When Danielle made eye contact with you, you realized she was rushing over to the bar to meet you.

“Y/N, have you heard from Callie lately? I saw her boyfriend this morning and he was out at some diner and he acted like he was just fine while he was sitting beside some girl.” She rambled, catching you off guard with how fast she was talking.

“What? No I haven’t, wait he was with another girl?” You asked.

“Yeah and you wanna know what else? I heard Nelson was visited by two guys in suits. I think the FBI is looking into it. Maybe they caught a glimpse of something with Nelson’s wife and they’re looking into it.”

“But the cops already talked to Nelson. That was the whole point of him not stopping by the bar at all like two days ago. Why would the FBI need to talk to him again? Poor guy’s already been through enough.” You said.

“Well, honestly I don’t think Nelson minds. I bet he’s a little glad he doesn’t have to deal with the constant heartbreak of his wife bumping ugliest with different men every other night.”

“Oh come on, that’s a little bit of an exaggeration.” You tried to give the former Mrs. Nelson the benefit of the doubt.

“Would you really be surprised if it was that often though?” Danielle smirked, you rolled your eyes a little before you started putting some of the clean glasses away to prepare for customers.

“Do you think the FBI will come here to see if we know anything? You know the manager’s out of town this week. What do we tell them if they happen to come in?” Danielle asked, starting to get a little worried, not much to your surprise.

“Danielle, breathe. If they come in and you spot them, just send them to me. I’ve got it covered. Not that they’ll ask anything we have any knowledge about anyway.” You said and Danielle took a deep breath before exhaling and nodding.

“I’m still worried about Callie.” She said.

“Well think about it… if you and your boyfriend broke up, are you going to want to spend a lot of time on your phone for the first couple of days? Or are you going to want to sleep and isolate for a while before you start making public appearances again.” You reasoned.

“I don’t know…”

“I’ll tell you what. After we clock out tonight, we can go over to Callie’s house and check up on her and make sure she’s alright.” You insisted.

“Okay… yeah that sounds like a plan.”

“Now… why don’t you go ahead and clock in and we can get the show on the road. They may not even come at all, and Callie will more than definitely be alright.” You insisted and Danielle nodded.

With that being said the two of you got to work. You were busily serving different customers at the bar with different drinks. Some you were used to making but apparently there were some visitors and they wanted something fancy. Two preppy looking guys had just walked through the door and made themselves comfortable at the bar. They looked like they were the country club type of guys.

“Hey, Miss! Can I get a Boulevardier cocktail over here?” One of them said. He had waved ginger hair and he was wearing a blue golf shirt.

“Yeah and I’ll have Vieux Carre cocktail, Darlin.” The other said. He was blond, hair parted to the side and he wore an orange golf shirt with white stripes.

These people must’ve had the worst taste in clothing, and an even worse taste in drinks. You couldn’t even try and pronounce these things and you weren’t even sure if you had the right ingredients for these stupid sounding drinks.

“Sure. I’ll get right on that for you fellas.” You replied and went to the back to get the glasses. Then you pulled out the phone to see what the heck those drinks were. Luckily for you, you had some similar ingredients, but you weren’t working in a fancy bar so you had some pretty basic drinks, they’ll just have to deal with generic.

You grabbed what you needed and started to make the drinks and you thought you heard Danielle’s voice followed by two gruff sounding voices. Yay, more customers.

You were too focused on making the drinks but that was when Danielle started walking towards the bar with the two men she was talking to.

“Y/N? I’ve got a couple of agents that would like to speak with you.” Danielle called.

When you glanced over you saw a familiar green pair of eyes, the ones that you’ve drawn numerous times. They’ve changed though, like they’ve seen so much more. But seeing Dean there… it was like everything in your world stopped and you accidentally dropped the glasses you needed.

The sound of the glass shattering on the floor snapped you out of it.

You immediately started looking for a broom but Danielle started rushing over to help you, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll get it for you. What did these guys order?”

“Thank you… Some cocktails with fancy names. I’ll send you the recipes.” You said as you wiped your hands on the apron.

“You okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.” She said and you nodded a little.

“Yeah, I’m okay… I’ll tell you later.” You told her, not wanting to be wrong if your suspicions are correct.

You nibbled on your bottom lip softly before letting it go and you walked over to the two federal agents.

Dean was straightening up his tie uncomfortably. All these years later and he still hated these damned monkey suits but then he felt Sam nudge his arm and when Dean looked up, he could feel his breath taken away.

No, it couldn’t be you could it?

You looked so beautiful, time seemed to have done wonders for you and Dean almost found it hard to breathe at the sight of you.

Of all the towns this case had to take place in, it just had to be the one you lived in. Have you heard anything about the case? You didn’t know about all the ugliness out there yet, did you?

“My friend said you wanted to speak with me? How can I help you?”

God your voice brought back so many memories, but Dean couldn’t dwell on them. Besides, you probably forgot about him so what was the point? Still… it was eating at his mind.

“Um… yeah… Agent Peart, could you get us a couple of drinks and maybe talk to one of the other bartenders?” Dean said.

Sam looked over and raised a brow skeptically. Dean was lucky Sam didn’t really question it and the younger Winchester walked off, giving Dean the time to be alone with you.

“So Ms… L/N, right?” Dean asked, almost hesitant.

But he watched the corner of your lips turn upward into a smile, “Yes, Agent Winchester.”

Dean couldn’t help but smile at the fact that you did remember him after all.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d recall…”

“Dean, it may have been a few years since that summer but I’m not old enough for dementia.” You joked.

Dean couldn’t help but laugh a little and the two of you found a place to sit at the bar table. It’s been so long since he’s been this close to you and it felt just like it did before.

“So how’ve you been? How’s your father and the business?” You asked, Dean remembered that he never told you the exact truth. You had a lot to catch up on he supposed.

“Dad um… well he passed several years ago. About five years after that summer, actually.” Dean said and he watched the way you began to frown.

“I’m sorry to hear that… I remember how you used to talk about him and how close you were.” You told him and he gave a bittersweet smile.

“Things well.. they changed in the five years after. A lot did actually. But my brother and I actually take care of the family business.” He told you and you lifted a brow.

“If you’re an agent now, how do you have the time for a traveling business?” You asked and he felt his palms get clammy, knowing that might be a difficult thing to answer.

“Um… well… Agents like me and Peart aren’t always in one place, so I still travel a lot anyway and when I’m off duty I handle the business as much as I can.” He tried to explain in the most believable way possible.

“You never did tell me what kind of business your dad started. I was always so curious.” You said and Dean wished he could tell you the truth.

“Actually… I need to ask you a few questions. I’m sort of on a case and I don’t really have a whole lot of time to catch up this time around.” He admitted softly.

Dean felt his heart sank at the way your shoulders seemed to slump a little before you looked down at your glass of brandy. He wished he could spend as much time with you as possible, but he couldn’t afford to lose anymore people. People have already lost their lives because of him and he couldn’t afford to do that to you too. He couldn’t handle it.

“What is it you want to know, Agent?”

The switch to the professionalism in your tone pierced Dean through the heart. Maybe he should have asked Sam to keep him some company after all, but from the looks of it he was busy interviewing someone else and writing notes down like the nerd he was.

“The owner… did you have many interactions with his wife?” He asked and he watched you shake your head.

“No. Too busy working. Plus she seldom came here anyway. She was more of a promiscuous woman than anything else. Nelson knew that better than anyone else.” You sighed.

“Nelson.. do you think he’d ever want to take revenge on his wife or pay someone to do it?” Dean asked, making this seem like routine questions - in a way they were still important for a hunter’s case. Who knows, maybe Nelson could he the werewolf he was looking for.

“And risk losing the bar because he’s in jail? No. He was hurt by his wife’s actions, yeah. But for a while they tried to work on it, but then they separated for a month. After that they started living together again before the affairs started up again. And from the looks of it he didn’t have the time to deal with his adulterous wife if she wasn’t willing to change. But there were rumors of a divorce.”

“Do you think Nelson had any enemies? Someone that wanted to get to him through the Mrs?” Dean asked.

“Look, Dean. I don’t keep tabs on my boss and his wife. I don’t care about that kind of thing. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have customers to serve and you have a murder to solve. Don’t let me keep you.” You said and abruptly stood up and walked away to get back to work.

Dean rubbed his face before pinching the bridge of his nose, “Well that looks like it was a disaster.”

Dean heard the sound of his brother’s voice and he rolled his eyes a little before he got up.

“Let’s get out of here and compare notes…”

“You okay, Man?”

“I’m fine, Sam. Let’s just go.” Dean stated and he pushed his chair in before they walked out of the door after putting some cash on the table top for the drinks.

Once the two of them got into the car, Dean started the Impala and when he was pulling out he started to drive to the hotel, then Sam started to talk again.

“So why were you so in a rush to leave? What the hell happened back there?” Sam asked, causing Dean to grimace a little but he knew his brother wouldn’t let it go until he knew what was going on.

“You remember the girl we were talking about? The cover artist?” He said and Sam nodded.

“Wait, that was Y/N? Why don’t we go back? You two can catch up! It’s just a werewolf case, a milk run. I can handle this and give you time with her.” Sam said; and as much as Dean appreciated the willingness, he knew his chances were probably gone.

“Oh no… what did you do?” Sam asked when Dean went quiet.

“Why is it always something that I did?” Dean asked and Sam scoffed.

“Because, Dean. As smooth as you are with women you’ll never see again, you always screw up with the ones that matter and you let them go. Why are you trying to let this one go?”

“Because I can’t have what happened to Jo and Lisa happen to her. Even though Jo was a hunter, she still got killed! Lisa didn’t have experience with hunting, never wanted anything to do with it, and she just got in trouble just by knowing me.” Dean said sternly, beginning to speed because he wasn’t exactly focused on the road.

“Dean! Slow down! We aren’t on a roller coaster!”

Dean heard his brother’s panicky voice and he eased on the gas and tried to focus on what he was doing and eventually they made it to the hotel. Luckily there weren’t any cops on the road so he didn’t get pulled over or anything on the way. But he turned off the car and Sam cleared his throat a little.

“Sam, I don’t want advice on this one. It’s better to just let this one go.”

“Dean, come on. I know for a fact you still have that picture she drew for you. And you said it yourself, that was the best summer of your life! You deserve to experience that kind of happiness again. Especially since things seem to be so calm right now. No angelic wars, no apocalypses, things are quiet and you deserve a break.”

Dean was still quiet.

“And you still aren’t going to tell me what down at the bar, are you?”

With a grunt, Dean stepped out of the car and started making his way up the stairs to get to their designated room.

Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @roseblue373 @nancymcl @jackles010378 @hobby27 @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @blackcherrywhiskey @prettyinplaid94 @globetrotter28 @suckitands33

[xoxoamyas]

it started with a kiss

rating : mentions of alcohol, obsessive / stalkerish implications / references, slight suggestive comments [ 2 ]

simpbur x gn!reader

☆ you attend another party like you would any other, you didn't expect to meet him. <3

note : new years special !! i'm so sorry this was posted so late. it was meant to be out the first or second, but stuff happened :( i hope you enjoy it at least a bit <3

masterlist [ ☆ ]

⋆˙⟡

You were usually one to be out and about, never truly home for longer than a good night's rest or an off chance of rare downtime. Always the one work friend to get invited out by friends for social gatherings or even a party.

Currently, you were at one of your best friends' New Years party. Something that you had been invited to weeks ago and had contemplated showing face at because you knew there would be drunk lunatics out and about that didn’t care for others safety, let alone their own.

You had expected to see and meet people you didn’t know. It just hadn’t been counted for that you’d meet someone who seemed to take genuine interest in you.

He had walked up to you some odd minutes after your friend left to go use the bathroom. Introduced himself as Wilbur, shaking your hand in the process.

The man hadn’t seemed interesting at first, just someone you thought would be casual conversation. The thing that had piqued your attention most was when he mentioned that he was practising to become a musician.

Conversation took off from there, and it seemed like he knew every point to keep you into talking with him. He wasn’t charming by any means. He seemed off in a way that made your stomach nearly start churning. You’d put the feeling off for the time being since you didn’t think you would talk with him ever again.

What you didn’t know was just how excited Wilbur had been to finally talk with you. On one hand, he wanted to pat himself on the back because you hadn’t recognized him. On the other hand, he wanted to break something over you not knowing who he was.

Wilbur had been watching you for some time, having first spotted you at another party much like the one you were both currently at. A lot of alcohol, people who couldn’t shut their mouths, loud music. He knew the date down to a capital T.

He had taken a particular eye to you after some guy had spilt his drink on you, having gone as far as to follow you to the bathroom. At the time, Wilbur had fully intended to ask if you were okay, but seeing you in a vulnerable position made his heart nearly palpitate, something that hadn’t happened to him in a long time.

It was at that moment he knew what you were. You were his. His unknowing angel and saviour.

He started taking time out of his day to learn about you after that, thinking he just wanted to get to know you at first. Now, he knows everything about you. He knows your favourite colour, snack, and comfort foods. He knows your parents' and grandparents' names as well as their places of residence. He knows that you organize your books on your favoured bookshelf in your living room by author and series. Wilbur is also fully aware of what’s kept in your bedside dressers.

In other words, he knows you intimately. Even if you didn't know it.

Wilbur smiles a bit, looking at you in awestruck as he managed to get you to laugh at a joke he had made. You were hardly tipsy, so he wanted to think you found something genuine.

“Would you like to dance with me? I think the countdown is about to start.” He asks you, having leaned a fraction closer so you could hear him over the music. The look you give him makes his heart flutter in his chest, but he manages to force down every surfacing urge he had in the moment.

“I don't see why not! Do you have a partner?” You're so shameless when you ask, not a lick of hesitance or embarrassment. A thing he loved so dearly about you. He shakes his head no in response, though, having thought long ahead to not have a partner to begin with.

“No, I don't. I was just going to share a glass of wine with my friend.” He smiles sheepishly, and you're none the wiser. You strongly believed no one should be alone on New Years, and sure, Wilbur says he has someone to share a glass with, but that was it?

“Let’s go and dance, then! What are we waiting for!” Your words are rhetorical as you move, taking the solo cup Wilbur had from his hand and finding the nearest spot to set down both of your drinks.

You were quick to find both your hands in both of his own, pulling Wilbur out to the dance space everybody was in. It was crowded, but it wasn't bad.

Time is lost in the moment. Nobody keeps up with it until the music suddenly cuts. There's some cheering before the countdown starts.

You lean against Wilbur without hesitation, your shoulder pressing against his arm as you count down. Wilbur couldn't be bothered to pay mind to anything or anyone other than you. Sparing him a glance when you feel his hand move to your lower back when you nearly fell backwards.

When one is reached, everybody cheers. Some people instantly go in for their partners.

Wilbur hesitates, really wanting you to like- to want him the way he wants you. He gives in to the major urge on top, leaning in and kissing your cheek. The action makes you turn to him in near surprise before it melts.

“If you're gonna take a New Years kiss, take it right.” He could barely hear your words over the loud sounds. Wilburs eyes widen a fraction when your hands find his face and pull him in for a full kiss, your soft lips pressed against his chapped ones.

He feels light, like he's soaring through the clouds. One of his hands moving to the nape of your neck to keep the kiss just a bit longer, having been waiting for this moment for so long.

It feels too soon when the kiss is broken, and he instantly craves more. Wilbur knew better than anyone, though, that you never brought anybody from a party home with you.

That didn't mean he'd break his habit of following you after the party ends regardless.

“You're not too bad of a kisser.” You indirectly compliment with a smile that sends blood rushing, his face tinting a slight red from becoming flustered.

Suddenly, all he wants to do is hide you away from the world and claim you as his, even if he already had.

“You're not too bad yourself,” He comments with faux confidence. “Hope you don't mind if I ask you for your number?” He asks, that nervous tone slipping in. Wilbur doesn't miss the small and brief frown before the oh-so-soft smile.

“I don't see why not.”

You had no idea what you've just gotten yourself into.

[yoonkookieluv]

This are some fics I’m obsessed with

I started reading fics just a few months ago and this are some of my favorites 🥰

I’m so glad I found these amazing stories by these incredible authors 💓 each story is a masterpiece and if you can please give them a try and don’t forget to give these authors lots of love for their hard work and creativity 🫶🏻

SERIES

Mutual help by @personasintro

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, fake dating au

Sumary: in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it a mutual help

Red by @taestefully-in-luv

Genre: FLUFF, smut, angst:(( pregnancy au

Summary: You drunkenly sleep with your ex-boyfriend, Jungkook. Can’t be that bad right? Unless he gets you pregnant.

Always you by @taestefully-in-luv

Genre: friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, roommate au, college au, SMUT (starting ch2), fluff, angst (in later chapters) slight crack

Summary: you and Jungkook have been best friends since freshmen year of college, there’s a lot of unsaid feelings and tension but neither make a move. what happens when his friend Taehyung (also your crush) needs a fake girlfriend?

Rule #5 by @taestefully-in-luv

Genre: fwb au, friends to lovers, fluff, maybe a little angst, SMUT

Summary: You strike up a fwb deal with your childhood friend Jungkook after kissing him one night after a dare. But you have rules…5 of them to be exact and it seems Jungkook doesn’t want to follow any of them.

As we were by @archivedkookie

Genre: divorce au, infidelity au, eventual smut, heavy angst, lots of pining

Summary: Your husband cheats on you and find comfort in someone else’s arms. He claims he’s happy—but is he really?

Long way home by @sparklingchim

genre: dilf!jungkook, friends to lovers, fluff, little bit of angst

summary: the one where you babysit jungkook's baby and somehow let the night end up with being a cockblock for him.

Cruel intentions by @explicit-tae

Genre: smut, Mafia!Jungkook

Summary: You adored your eldest brother - you truly did. Before his addiction got the best of him, he was amazing at caring for you and your other siblings. Now, however, it was your turn to care for him without the help of your siblings who long abandoned him, advising you to do the same. Once your brother manages to get himself imprisoned, you realize just how much trouble he got himself into. Once your family is threatened, you offer to pay off the debts your brother owes with the one thing any powerful man couldn't resist - your virginity.

Practice by @chryblossomjjk

genre: m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut, fluff, angst

summary: You usually spend Friday nights on your own. Tonight, however, your friend and campus fuckboy, Jungkook, decides to pay you a visit.

Bloodline by @jjkeverlast

genre: slow burn (sorry y’all) smut (a lot of it oop-) humor, angst and college au

summary a relationship was the last thing you wanted, but having wild and experimenting sex? now that was something, and jeon jungkook is there to give you simply that. as long as either catch feelings… but that won’t be hard for you knowing you’d never go for a guy like jungkook, although jungkook might have another opinion about you. let the (fun) begin!

Just friends by @kinktae

genre: uh best friend AU but really just an excuse for angsty smut

summary: The transition from best friends to best friends with benefits is never easy, especially when there’s a daddy kink involved.

Blackout by @jjungxkook

genre: best friends to lovers, roommate and college au, fluff, crack, smut

summary: Utility bills shooting up like this should be an international crime. Luckily, Jungkook has the perfect idea(s) to save up money and make your night sinfully unforgettable.

I loved you by @kimtaesss

Genre: angst, fluff, friends to (?)

Summary: being friends for 10 years means nothing, especially when he betrays your trust so easily.

Bad Guy by @taehoneys

Genre: Drama

Summary: A certain video circulates the school after your big mistake and you never do mistakes, but you did this time… a big one: Jeon Jungkook

Leave the door open by @here4btsfics

Genre: smut, a dash of fluff, humor

Summary: Your neighbor loves to sing karaoke in the middle of the night. You finally get fed up and confront him about it. Except when he opens the door, you realize you’re screwed. He’s gorgeous. 

THIRTY-FIVE by @bangtansmauyeondan

Genre: rivals au, social media au, frenemies to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, crack.

Summary: It has always been the battle of the best between you and your college rival, Jungkook. What happens when years later, you cross paths again working for the same broadcasting network company, and the competitive flame is rekindled? Well, a whole new drunken bet that determines your futures wasn’t in your line of vision, but here you are… and you have until 35.

Out of Time - JJK by @97erstan

Genre: angst | smut

Summary: after being invited to your ex's wedding, he invites you to visit his room for a final goodbye.

OUR TIME by @taestefully-in-luv

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader (Detective!Jk x Graphic Designer!OC) side pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: crime au, fluff, heavy angst, smut, romance, darker themes, amnesia au. Best friends to ???

Summary: After an accident and being in a coma for three months, you finally wake. But the last nine years of your life have been completely erased. You rely on none other than your best friend, Jungkook, to help regain your memories and yourself. But what happens when the truth of your missing time starts unraveling and it isn’t all it’s made out to be?

An abundance of luck & a sprinkle of fate by @borathae

(Spin-Off to I hate you I love you)

Pairing: CEO!Jungkook x Sexworker!Reader 

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, BDSM, Hurt and Comfort, Smut, Romance, Fluff, Angst

Summary: When two souls, with different reasons for why life has broken them, find together, it needs a whole lot of a luck and a little bit of fate to make them see that maybe healing together isn’t as bad as it sounds.

Love to Hate by @kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jungkook / Reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Fuck Buddies!AU

Summary: Born with a silver spoon in your mouth, you've done your best to rid yourself of the taste since you were old enough to walk. Occasionally though, your mother manages to rope you into an obligatory function – or a blind date with playboy billionaire, Jeon Jungkook. Jungkook stands for everything you loathe about the world you left behind, but you can’t deny the spark of attraction between you. Intrigued by the promise of mutual satisfaction, you agree to one night in bed… and quickly realize you’re in far, far deeper than you ever intended.

Runaway by @archivedkookie

pairing ; tattoo artist / biker!jk x reader 

genre ; best friend’s brother au, fwb (they’re not rlly friends tho), 4 years age gap, smut, angst, fluff, slow burn

summary ; When your best friend's brother, your first-ever crush, offers to help you explore your sexual desires, you just can't refuse. Especially when it's someone as irresistible as Jeon Jungkook.

Paradise by @minisugakoobies

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: smut, neighbors to lovers, slow burn, love triangle, Stripper!AU

summary: That sexy man on stage - the one currently giving your friend the lap dance of her LIFE - is your super shy neighbor, Jeon Jungkook?!

ONE SHOTS

CRAZY by @personasintro

Pairing: jungkook x reader, jungkook x f!character

Genre: angst, smut, cheating au

Summary: your boyfriend comes with an idea

THIRTEEN ROUNDS by @moni-logues

Pairing: Boxer!Jungkook x f!reader

Genre: smut smut smut smut smut! sex ban smut lmao; established relationship

Summary: JK’s boxing coach tells him he can’t come for four weeks before his title fight. Ah, four weeks isn’t that long, right? … Right?

SERIES

The island by @taestefully-in-luv

Genre: strangers to lovers, slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

if it’s not you · kth (m) by @mercurygguk

content; exes to lovers!au, smut/angst, a bit of fluff

summary; Kim Taehyung grew up watching his parents fall more in love for each day that passed and he always longed for that great, passionate love himself. But if it’s not you? Then he doesn’t want it

I HATE YOU, I LOVE YOU by @borathae

Pairing: Taehyung x f.Reader, minor Jungkook x f.Reader 

Genre: Enemies to Lovers!AU, Arranged Marriage!AU, CEO!Taehyung, CEO!Reader, Romance, Smut, Fluff, Angst 

Summary: “You are marrying Kim Taehyung, heir to Kim Enterprises, one of South Korea’s hottest bachelors and a total pain in the ass. You do not want to marry him and neither does he want to marry you. But in families likes yours’, marriage does not come with love. “

ONE SHOTS

Pick of the Patch by @taestefully-in-luv

Genre: fluff, angst, smut, enemies to lovers

Summary: You’re a struggling artist with a strong desire to escape so when your mother suddenly calls and asks you to return home to replace her in this years Harvest Festival dance, you never said yes faster. However, she informs you that you’ll be working with another dancer, Kim Taehyung and upon meeting, you decide you do not like him…but right when you think you could grow up and move past it, Taehyung makes it clear that he does not like you either.

SERIES

Love Again | PJM by @taestefully-in-luv

Genre: exes au, exes to ???, fluff, angst, smut

Summary: A friend of yours is eager to introduce you to her new man but what happens when Park Jimin, the man who broke your heart 5 years ago walks in through the door?

SERIES

monachopsis by @personasintro

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst, fluff, smut, mini series

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; after receiving unpleasant news that doesn't allow you to grow your family, your husband comes up with an idea that unfortunately involves his brother whom he despises

Away From You by @personasintro

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, smut, divorce!au

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; Trying to divorce Yoongi might be harder than you thought it’d be. Especially when you’re having a two year old toddler.

ONE SHOTS

Stay High by @personasintro

genre: fluff, angst, smut

synopsis; You’ve to stay high to keep your ex out off your mind when he comes back into your life.

Selfish Love by @personasintro

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: yoongi x reader

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: infidelity au, smut, angst (?), drabble

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; we’re all a little bit selfish sometimes

SERIES

Sanguis Alpha by @borathae

Pairing: OT7 x f.Reader with main Taehyung x f.Reader & Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: Mystery, Fantasy, Romance, Smut, University!AU, Vampire!AU

Synopsis: You change universities after moving towns. Your new university is an old, ancient building with secret tunnels and whispered ghost stories. There are two fraternities, which for some reason always seem to be in a quarrel. Alpha consisting of Kim Taehyung, Kim Namjoon, Park Jimin and Min Yoongi. Handsome, porcelain skinned men, who act as if they are out of another century and for some reason everyone on campus seems to be scared of. And Sanguis consisting of Jeon Jungkook, Kim Seokjin and Jung Hoseok. Men with skin just as pale and their faces just as beautiful, who always wear sunglasses when it is light outside and who never seem to open their curtains. And for some peculiar reason you always find yourself in the middle of them....

[pluckyredhead]

The Lost Titans in Canon: Rose and Eddie

Hello, friends! Are you ready to get your heart broken?

Rose and Eddie both joined the Titans during the 2006 One Year Later gap (when every DC book jumped one year ahead after Infinite Crisis) and first appeared on the team in #34 of the 2003 Teen Titans series. They're already buddies, at least enough to...hang out in the kitchen together, not facing each other and throwing oranges on the floor? This art is baffling:

What mind-bogglingly prudish teenager instituted that swear jar, let alone decided that "damn" was enough to qualify?

We later learn that Rose vouched for Eddie to get him on the team, apparently two seconds after having met him. Rose herself was on the team because Dick asked Tim to give her a chance.

Eddie is already protective of Rose, like when Cassie, uh...punches Rose hard enough to give her a nosebleed for the crime of being annoying.

Guys, you should...you should probably quit this team. I know it's just your first issue, but yikes.

Their second issue features a drunk Rose climbing into Tim's bed and trying to seduce him, and then Cassie showing up and everyone attacking everyone else, and then Marvin hitting on Cassie (I'm glad you're dead, Marvin), and it's pretty much just trash all around.

But it also features this moment:

Eddie has never recovered and NEITHER HAVE I.

Rose then confesses that she's afraid that the Titans will kick her off the team, since Tim doesn't really want her or Eddie around, just his real friends. (I could write a thesis on how Rose is afraid of being kicked out so she deliberately tries to provoke them into kicking her out, but this isn't the time.)

She hides it better, but Rose has never recovered from this, either.

Then Eddie gets hurt and Rose pulls they "Stay with me!" trope:

It has only been two issues! They're obsessed with each other!

But Rose warns him off:

Eddie continues to be ride or die for Rose, defending her when she's accused (falsely) of being a traitor to the team, and protecting her when his own dystopian future self shows up and tries to kill her. Also, Jaime joins the team and Eddie is wildly jealous of how much Rose seems to like him:

Rose 100% knows Eddie's right there and is doing this to make him jealous, btw. This is extremely explicit in the issue. She doesn't actually care about Jaime one way or the other (and Jaime tells her very clearly that he has a girlfriend).

Meet Rose Wilson! She has absolutely no idea how to cope with liking a sweet boy who is nice to her, so she spends an entire issue trying to make him jealous and making fun of him in a way that's genuinely mean! Oh, honey, no.

Between Rose blowing hot and cold, Tim and Cassie being just incredibly nasty to Eddie all the time for no reason, and the trauma of, you know, having sold his soul to the devil and being functionally orphaned and all, Eddie makes a very bad decision. He invites a bunch of civilian teens to Titans Tower, where they promptly run amuck. The Titans are furious, and Eddie is left feeling completely friendless and about an inch from being kicked off the team completely.

That's when he's approached by the Terror Titans, a team of teenage edgelords led by the Clock King, who DC was trying to make into a cool scary villain by having him *checks notes* fuck teenage girls and constantly murder people on-page as gorily as possible. This whole storyline is trying so, so hard to be cool and edgy but it's just incredibly tiresome.

Anyway Eddie recognizes that actually all these people suck, and refuses to join them and betray the Titans. So they kidnap him and Clock King proceeds to torture him.

Meanwhile, the Terror Titans attack Titans Tower. The only people there are Wendy and Marvin, who are non-combatants, and Rose. Rose defeats every member of the Terror Titans, gets Wendy and Marvin to safety, and then, beat to hell, walks back into Titans Tower to fight the Terror Titans again. Why?

THEY'VE GOT EDDIE.

Rose drags herself back into the Tower, hurt and bleeding, to beat Eddie's location out of the Terror Titans. It's such a good gender reversal of this trope, where the damsel in distress is an eldritch horror and the grizzled warrior coming to his rescue is a teenage girl. The execution of every single bit of this story is absolutely awful and unreadably stupid, but the idea in there is so good! Theoretically!

The Terror Titans manage to escape Rose's wrath, but Rose follows them to where Eddie is being kept: an underground cage fighting ring for captured teenage metas. The Teen Titans also realize what's happening and show up to rescue Eddie as well.

Rose saves Cassie's life and defeats Clock King, but Cassie is still like "Rose is crazy and dangerous and shouldn't be on the team" and Tim's like "Hm maybe you're right"...and Rose overhears.

Meanwhile, Eddie learns that Rose went apeshit when he was kidnapped, and is thrilled because maybe this means he has a chance! He shows up with flowers...

...and Rose is already gone. She's quit the team.

Rose is gone for about ten issues (she temporarily joins the Terror Titans, which is as unbearably stupid as you might imagine), and during that time, Eddie loses his powers and becomes just a regular guy. And then Rose makes her glorious return:

AND EDDIE LITERALLY SWOONS.

But Rose is not okay. She's becoming addicted to huffing adrenaline to enhance her precognitive abilities [insert eyeroll here]. Eddie, of course, is the one who notices:

I love that first panel in the last row. They've moved past the point where Rose can pretend she doesn't care about Eddie and Eddie can't tell the difference. The intimacy of that line (and that touch) - he knows her, and he's telling her so. UGH MY HEART.

Rose gets into another fight with Cassie, and it convinces her that she doesn't belong on the Titans. And, she argues, neither does Eddie, who has no powers and no training.

AND THEN THIS PAGE HAPPENS AND I HAVE NEVER RECOVERED:

Rose leaves. Eddie stays. And in the very next storyline, he dies. YOU SHOULD HAVE GONE WITH HER, EDDIE!

I'm not going to recount Eddie's death because I've done that already, but during this time, Rose had a backup solo feature in the Teen Titans book, and it included her hallucinating conversations with various characters. The last hallucination is of Eddie:

The next page is his last line: "...but that doesn't mean you'll never get another chance someday..." She doesn't know he's already dead. I WEEP. I WEEP ETERNALLY.

And that's pretty much the end of the canon Rose/Eddie story. Rose returned to the Titans in the next issue, but there's no scene of her learning or acknowledging Eddie's death - iirc she never mentions him again, which honestly I feel like is pretty in character. Her grief is private.

The comics Rose and Eddie appear in together are objectively awful. But somehow there's still a really compelling and heartbreaking little almost-romance in there, and now that Eddie's back in canon, I'd love to see someone at DC remember this couple, because they are so, so good together. (And imo much more interesting that Jason and Rose, who are functionally the same person and work better as two halves of the Eddie Bloomberg Defense Squad.)

Anyway if you also think they're neat, I wrote a sequel to The Lost Titans about them! You should read it: Five Couches Eddie (Tried to) Crash on After He Was Rescued from Hell (and One Time He Went Home).

[maximoff-forevermore]

Tumblr Wrapped: BLORBOS!!

thank you sm for the tag @healmydesires 💋🫶🫶

tumblr wrapped canva template<3

i have SO much to say, but then again, i always do

i’ll start with my top five, and then do some honourable mentions because five fics is NOT a big enough list for me

1. Red Light by @kiwisbell

you may NEVER hear me stop talking about this fic. EVER. Red Light!Joel has taken up more headspace than anything else in a good long while, and i’ve reread this fic so many times if you asked me to rewrite it from memory i probably could, but i wouldn’t, because i’d never do it the justice kiwi did. this fic basically belongs to me, because no one can love it as much as me. i could go on and on, but there’s not enough time in the world.

2. The Dress Series by @janaispunk

can i let y’all in on a secret? i got the outrageous honour of talking to jana about the third part in this series, it’s like getting a shoutout from an artist winning a grammy, only better. this series restarted my obsession with dave, and i’ve had such brainrot about him since i started. LORD HAVE MERCY ON MY SOUL it’s so good, and the taylor titles GOD.

3. Las Mañanas by @kiwisbell

i had to be very careful, or else every fic on my top five list would be one of kiwi’s and people would think i’m biased (i am, just a little). so i only chose my two favourites, and this series was one of them. it brought so much light and life to the minutes i spent reading it, and i just had the best time!! javi my beloved, you have such a special place in my cold, dead heart, you wife-loving POOKIE!!

4. The In My Hometown Series by @swiftispunk

A SERIES INSPIRED BY ‘TIS THE DAMN SEASON *buries face into pillow and screams* ‘tis the damn season is one of my all time favourite songs, and it was done SUCH JUSTICE. this fic had just the right amount of everything, and i’m so grateful i got to read it!!

5. Punishment by @joelsgreys

OOOOOH HOT DAMN. there was something about this fic that made me drool, because hELLO JOEL MILLER?? gods that man is FINE AS FUCK, and this fic so perfectly captures that😫😫 i had the time of my fucking life reading it, and it was so SO worth every second. my next, pls joel🙏

those fics have such a special place in my heart, but so do many others, let’s go through them!!

Is It Over Now? by @planet-marz1 OH this one is my SHIT!!! angst is so delicious for twelve months of the year, and this one shot was me being FED. i loved every minute, and fuck joel, not in the horny way this time🙄

Sexfiles.mp3 by @beskarandblasters tim rockford, the grandma investigator, and love of my life WHERE have you been all this time?? this fic gave me that alligator-jiggling fever

the Seams series by @fuckyeahdindjarin MY BELOVED POOKIES!!!! i love lucy to the ends of the earth, and joel and pins have the CUTEST fucking relationship on the planet

A Lover’s Pinch series by @hier--soir pull me out of the dumpster and fuck me sideways GOOD MORNING TO YOU TOO??? gods the sex is just so BXKANDIWNSKW clawing at my fucking WALLS!!!! i haven’t finished this series yet but when i do you may NEVER hear the fucking end of me🗣️🗣️

the Pretty Little Wife series by @beardedjoel OH MAMA, i need a fan because it is HOT AS HELL in here😫😫these fics give me such housewife-fever, i love them just a bit TOO much

Real Gods Require Blood, by @pr0ximamidnight you guys have no FUCKING idea how obsessed i am with this fic. the minute it’s possible to make fics into physical things, i will turn this fic into cocaine and snort it faster than you can scream “he’s evil!”, and even if you did scream it, i wouldn’t care, because WOW is he hot as hell

Feelings on Fire by @joelscruff CAN WE TALK ABOUT IT. CAN WE TALK ABOUT IT. CAN WE—im so obsessed. and i don’t mean that lightly. this series has CHANGED ME. i am moved. i am reborn. i am SOMETHING ELSE. i can’t get over this series i’m not sorry, it’s just so so SO good

and last, but definitely NOT least, Truth or Dare, ALSO by @joelscruff I’M SO UNWELL. I NEED HIM. I NEED THIS. I AM IN DIRE, DESPERATE NEED OF THIS FIC. it’s so so close to my heart, i actually physically cannot get over it. like, guys, GUYS. this fic is such a go-to of mine, and so close to my heart.

and that was my long, long, LONG list, but honestly, i’m not even halfway done. so many fics and so many fic writers have changed my life, and if i was less tired and had more energy to type, i’d list them all<3

all the love to every single fic writer out there, you are doing the most, and if you need someone to read something you’ve written or you think i’ll enjoy something, don’t hesitate to send it my way!!

tagging everyone who wants to participate!!!

as always, my obligatory taylor gifs:

[piggledy-higgledy]

As anyone who’s been looking at my page semi-frequently will have noticed, I am a big Richard Armitage fan. Mostly in love with his portrayal of Gisborne in BBC’s Robin Hood, but I also enjoy most of his other work and consider him a very talented actor (and a very sweet person from what we can tell.)

There has been a lot of furore lately about his latest project, “Obsession” (a series unfortunately promoted as an erotic thriller by Netflix), which is a remake of 1992 film “Damage” (with Jeremy Irons and Juliette Binoche) and based on the book by Josephine Hart. He portrays William Farrow, a married, middle aged, successful surgeon, who has an affair with his son’s fiancé, Anna (Charlie Murphy) -an affair so obsessive that it costs him everything: his career, his family, his son’s life, even his own self (more on that later.) The series features a lot of sex scenes, very light BDSM elements, and a LOT of nudity from RA on a level most fans never thought we’d see (RA being famously private and modest.) The fandom has been divided over this, with some looking forward to it and some being sure it’s not for them at all. From what I can tell (and I might be wrong) most people were put off by either the copious amounts of sex (and the trailer leaned very heavily on that) or the unsavoury morals of the main characters. Which is fair, if it’s not your cup of tea, don’t watch it.

I *did* watch it, and because opinions have been so strong, I wanted to share my thoughts. No disrespect if you prefer to pass. I hope it might be helpful for anyone on the fence and still making up their mind whether to watch or not. Happy to chat more about it if anyone likes! There WILL be spoilers.

Before watching it

I have personally felt very intrigued about this series and I was excited about watching it. Not so much because of the nudity or explicit scenes -or, rather, because of them, but not in the way you might think. Richard Armitage has played very, very few roles where he was primarily the romantic lead, and none later in his career. He tends to be cast in active roles, a lot of dark, violent characters, tense action. When there is romance it’s not the main aspect being explored. And he has NEVER (with the notable exception of Between the Sheets, which was so early in his career I doubt he necessarily had much choice to turn down work) done anything close to this level of sexual screen time. Why now? What made this different? I really wanted to know.

There was another reason I really wanted to watch Obsession. What Richard Armitage does best, in my opinion, is give characters depth (even characters that were clearly not written that way *cough* *Guy* *cough*). He is an incredibly detailed actor and uses his face and eyes to a stunning degree to convey things that go far beyond the dialogue. He has spoken about how he creates complete backstories for all his characters. This project is literally made for his type of acting. There is hardly any action, and leagues of unspoken material. RA called it “one of the most fulfilling pieces of work he’s ever done”. I needed to see why.

After watching it

I binged all 4 episodes in one night. And then again the next morning. And again today. I finished the first episode and thought “Yes, I understand why he wanted to do this.” (He also said in an interview that there was a moment in one scene that he’d never achieved before on film. Having watched this, I believe him.) Is this the kind of series I’d normally gravitate to? No. But I’m glad I watched it. Every single actor was incredible. The filming was beautiful. I just… don’t know where to start.

The story:

In my opinion “Obsession” is not about infidelity or sexual exploration -it’s about William and Anna’s experience with obsession and addiction. Anna isn’t just having an affair. She is addicted to being in control and to using sex as a means of asserting that control. (We learn that she had a brother who sexually abused her for years and committed suicide when she finally put a stop to it. And throughout the series, she reacts to strong emotions by initiating sex. Charlie Murphy described the character as a “dominant submissive” and that’s spot on, not just in the way that she sets the rules and boundaries of their sexual relationship, but in the way that, having been abused, asserts her control on the situation she had to submit to as a young girl by controlling when and how she submitted). William is not just having an affair. He is obsessed and addicted to Anna to the point that it completely deconstructs him as a person. He is the counterpoint to Anna’s character, in that he has no control. He doesn’t initiate, he doesn’t resist, he can’t or won’t control his reactions or his impulses and he completely loses control of his life as a result of his actions. In the final episode Jay, the son, discovers the affair and in shock, falls off a railing to his death. There is a scene where William faces his wife after everything is revealed and watching Richard Armitage convey all those emotions without saying a word is some of the best acting I’ve seen in my life. I don’t know what part of himself RA drew from to act the guilt and grief and absolute devastation in that scene but it was… amazing and heartbreaking. Even then, the obsession wins. When Jay dies, we see Anna walking away while William cradles the body of his son, paying her very little attention. I completely believe that he is broken in the scenes that follow. But after a few days the addiction takes over and he still seeks out Anna, convinced they can now be together (“there’s no version of this with just you,” she’d told him earlier on, but he clearly thinks otherwise). And we get the following:

W: … I let uncertainty in. (NB: What is uncertainty but lack of control?)

A: And look what happened. I don’t think… we can ever separate who we are from what we’ve done.

W: But… we can’t let it all be for nothing either (NB: William’s voice breaks here. He’s lost everything he ever cared about, she’s the only thing left. Does this phrase mean he thinks there was depth in their affair? Or does it mean that he is looking for meaning and depth so that he can cope with the fact that he sacrificed everything for an obsession and an addiction?)

A: Jay died because of us.

W: Still I wouldn’t change it (TNB: THIS! This phrase upset so many viewers! And of course it did, it was supposed to. The acting is, again, amazing. This isn’t said to Anna, this is introspection. William is looking inside himself, realises he wouldn’t change it, realises how much of himself he’s lost.)

A: You don’t regret it?

W: How can I?

A: We caused so much pain

W: But it’s done now.

A: I am so sorry for what happened. But I wish we’d never met. (She walks away, leaving William sobbing. Because there. is. nothing. left.)

The sex:

I hate that this was marketed as a sexy series because it created all sorts of hype and expectations that were misplaced imo. The story was never about the sex. Morgan Lloyd Malcolm said a couple of days ago on Twitter that it’s about “sitting in the discomfort of human behaviours” and that is spot on. Like I said above, this is a story of addiction. Anna is not addicted to the sex -she is addicted to using sex for control. That’s why Anna and William never kiss (she is the one controlling their physical interactions. William leans in to kiss her in many scenes, she never lets him.) That’s why the music is so jarring in all the sex scenes. That’s why there’s no foreplay, that’s why William never lasts long. That’s why they only ever have sex on the floor or in public, never in a safe, comfortable place like a bed. They are not comfortable. This is not a comfortable situation. We, as viewers, are supposed to be uncomfortable. The infamous hotel pillow scene was meant to demonstrate the turning point in William’s addiction, the complete loss of control, I think. It was never supposed to be funny or sexy -it was meant to disturb us because this intelligent, cultured, previously collected man becomes completely animalistic. Which is why he sobs afterwards -I think this is the point when William realises that (as Ingrid puts it later) “he is lost to her”. William’s face after their first sexual encounter is the face of a man under the influence. When she gets up to leave he makes this movement with his fingers like he is trying to hold on to her, but only grabs air. It’s just a twitch -but it’s Richard Armitage and we know how detailed he is in his acting, and I am sure it was a gesture with meaning.

The intimate scenes in Obsession are sometimes sensual, sometimes uncomfortable, sometimes genuinely hard to watch but never gratuitous.

Why a fan of Richard Armitage or anyone writing for his characters should watch it:

Again, you do you, but hear me out: This series is a veritable treasure trove of body language, voice/cadence, facial expressions that you can then apply to your favourite RA character. The longing. The conflict. The loss of control. The vulnerability. The eye contact. The fact that the lover’s name is Anna, which is also my name. Also, I’m being completely serious when I say that this is some of the best acting I’ve seen him do *ever*. If you can only bring yourself to watch parts of it, do that. There were some scenes that genuinely made me tear up. Look after yourself, respect your boundaries, but sample what you can because it’s a veritable banquet.

PS: I am focusing on Richard Armitage for this review because I came to Obsession from that fandom. But every single actor gives an amazing performance. I especially adored Charlie Murphy as Anna, Indira Varma being astounding as Ingrid and the criminally underrated Marion Bailey as Anna’s mother, Elizabeth, who packs SO MUCH into so few scenes.

[the-ghost-bracket]

Noah Czerny propaganda:

"Noah has been dead for 7 years by the time the story starts, and no one knows it. Not even the two friends he literally lives with. They just assume he doesn't eat in front of people and doesn't share classes with them. He was a failed sacrifice to a magic forest and the forest keeps him alive cause his body was left to rot in the forest, and since the forest experiences time differently so does he. He knows a whole bunch of stuff like secrets that haven't been shared and events that haven't happened yet because for him everything happens at once/in a circle. He died as a teenager, so he's kinda stuck in the teenager phase, and he still does dumb stuff like building ramps to drive cars off of. He's described as "less" now that he's dead. It's talked about by people who knew him when he was alive that Noah was cheerful and full of life and joyful and a jokester, but Noah as a ghost is quiet and shy and almost a completely different person because he lost so much of himself when he died.

This next part is confusing, but I'm going to try and explain it as best as possible.

ALSO - MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE BOOKS BELOW - I'M SERIOUS

Basically, 7 years ago, when Noah died, this other guy Gansey, who is one of the main characters also died. Gansey however, was brought back to life by what he thought was a magic king who was buried underground. Gansey spent the next 7 years searching for this king. He was obsessed and he thought it was his duty and his destiny to find the king. Long story short, it turns out the king was actually dead underground and had been dead for a while.

It wasn't the king who brought Gansey back to life - it was noah.

Noah as a ghost went back in time to the moment he died - aka the moment Gansey died - and sacrificed his spirit so that Gansey could live, whispering to Gansey that he was the dead king and therefore setting Gansey on his path to find the king. Because of this, Noah's ghost technically never existed, and Gansey and the others technically never met him, meaning they don't remember him. NOAH GAVE HIS LIFE SO GANSEY COULD LIVE AND I'M NEVER GONNA BE OVER THAT."

"- Noah isn't revealed as a ghost until the end of the book/series

- Most characters are unaware that Noah is a ghost, and when he disappears, they assume that's just a Noah thing

- Noah uses this to his advantage and just fucks off whenever it's uncomfortable or people need him, though sometimes he can't control this

- Noah stays true to Ghosting and permanently disappears at the end of the series

- Got bludgeoned to death with his skateboard I think? might've made that up but i think it adds points for Tony Hawkness

- His death is linked with another character: that character SHOULD have died, but because Noah was murdered at the same time on a ley line, their fates swapped (life/death)

- Had to die in his school uniform :(

- The cast also don't notice he died in his school uniform and assumed he just wore it all the time for some reason

- When connecting with one of the characters through their energy, Noah is clearly more energised, meaning his Ghostness really kills his personality too

- Canonically a Sk8r boy"

"sometimes he relives his death and isn't really aware of that fact. he is very sweet and keeps secrets and is still a third dimensional character even if he can't really interact with many people/things"

"“Oh! Your hand is cold."" Ashley cupped her fingers against her shirt to warm them.

""I've been dead for seven years,"" Noah said. ""That's as warm as they get.” "

"he's dead The Whole Time but his friends love him so much!!! he might be a bit smudgy and confused but he's still just a sweet boy!"

"This boy!!! He is a ghost that just kinda pops up sometimes and his friends are just kinda like “oh hey Noah.” He is so lovely and also his life is tied to a sentient forest that his best friend sacrificed him to. He is always kind to his friends and is a little jokester and is basically the best I love him :)))"

"Please I named myself after him"

"The sweetest boy who was murdered by his friend in an attempted human sacrifice. Lowkey the funnies character in the series if you appreciate dark humor. Sacrifices himself in order to save his friend. All around the best boy."

"He’s been dead for 7 years but when he tells his friends that they just think he’s being #relatable (until they find his skeleton). He was murdered by his high school best friend as part of a failed sacrifice to awaken a ley line and the ley line was basically like damn what a shitty deal here why don’t you be friends with the guys who are gonna wake me up properly. At one point his spirit starts to degrade and it’s all very sad and I’m pretending it didn’t happen."

"He's just my boy. He's sometimes in a trance replaying his own death. He has a stain on his cheek where his head was bashed in. He's sometimes corporeal and sometimes not, sometimes he just communicates through vibes alone or flickerin lights (peak ghost shit). His first line in the series is how he died, but everybody thinks it's a joke. The MC sometimes acts as a living battery for him and he's her first kiss (she was prophecised that her first love will die if she kisses him, so why not kiss a dead guy?)

He kinda gets excluded a bit from the main squad because he's nonexistant from time to time, which is bullshit. Justice for Noah!!!"

"Noah’s literal first line of dialogue is “I’ve been dead for seven years”. Despite this and many other comments about being dead, his friends (two of whom he lives with) believe him to be their normal alive schoolmate right up until Gansey finds his corpse in the woods.

Anyway on a more serious note Noah’s role in the narrative is so cool. At the start he’s very bright and present but as the series continues and he fades from the living world he fades from the narrative too. Depending on where you began the story (quote that’s repeated a lot in the series), it starts with Noah Czerny. Dying on the ley line when he should not, so Gansey lives when he should not. Literally in the end he gets goes back to kickstart the whole story by setting Gansey on the path to Henrietta I love him."

[mecachrome]

Hi k! I love reading your ojp scholarship, as he has crept up on me and taken over my brain. Weird question but why do you think he picked Lando as his guy to be a bit weird about?

hi anon 🥺 first off thank u for indulging me & also that is not a weird question at all!!!

ok obviously this is just me saying Anything so i apologize in advance T__T but tbh i think a lot of it ultimately goes back to the idea of lando's ~Proximity~ and how a very specific mélange of career circumstance laid out a foundation for oscar's interest extremely early on... which. let me explain!!! more behind the cut:

not to go on too much of a tangent but if you look at the current drivers in f1 who are roughly within a few years of oscar's age and could have feasibly been someone he'd looked up to coming up the ranks, i'd say the cutoff is like, 2018? so the group is basically charles/george/alex/lando, of whom the first 3 were alr in intrepid together (albeit in diff categories) when oscar had barely started karting at all. also alex moved up to single-seaters very early and his career/road to f1 is obviously a lot more complex than the others, so in reality the only ones oscar would have properly "followed" are lando and george, and then having gone through rfm & british f4 himself it makes sense that he'd lean more toward lando.

...idk how to put this succinctly but basically it's Like: so you're a kid in australia who believes in yourself so much you're willing to move halfway across the globe and attend boarding school by yourself while all your friends and family and the World As You've Always Known It grows and changes without you, and the team you're determined to prove yourself at has semi-recently achieved victory with a guy named lando norris, who is now british f4 champion and runs three separate series the same year you move to europe and goes on to win them all, who is extremely accessible on social media and is kind of awkward but charming and uses dumb unfunny gifs that match your level of online humor exactly, and all the while you're learning to navigate a new country, learning what it really means to prioritize the endless grind of motorsport, and you wouldn't dare look too far ahead into the future but sometimes you see him and think if he can keep winning everything then why not you?

So. also i think what always krills meeee about young_814 lore is that you have to really envision what they looked like circa 2016 like they were undersized dweebs for a majority of their lives!!! anyway. but also nasdlfnagk every time oscar is like i thought you were 30 with your goatee going on haha xD it's like U knowww he's flashing back to that image of little baby lando in his mind..... ok i need to relax.

there are of course other people oscar could have been weird about but in the end it's kind of just a Skill Issue thing / matter of attrition. like from the rfm pack max and logan and guanyu never progressed the same way lando did, and you also have to remember that by the time lando was a mclaren junior he was genuinely their Golden BoyTM, and i know we often talk about lando's competency kink but oscar is also similar to that but in like a ........ he needs to respect you on some fundamental level to be obsessed with you. so the fact that he genuinely rates lando contributes (imo) massively to the fundamentals of their dynamic!!!

also tbh to me one of oscar's biggest mental strengths is specifically that he isn't a very sentimental person, as in if he left to another team i don't think he'd be torn up or anything about not having lando as a teammate lol. but i DO believe he's someone who adapts very well to unfamiliar environments and is always willing to match someone's energy/meet them where they're at (again - especially when he respects them), so he's basically the perfect person to vibe with lando's idiosyncrasies and engage in all the lighthearted push/pulling they have going on. because like he genuinely thinks lando is funny and is more than happy to follow along his meandering bantz and the weirder lando is the weirder oscar is in response and that's just how they Work ?__? so At the end of the day it's: oscar was once a teenage boy who followed (still does) at ladbible instagram and watched the same gaming streamers lando likes or whatever and has seen lando grow into the man he is today (way more confident and "visible" and successful, very much a menace, brutally honest as ever) from this Very Specific vantage point of basically the only other junior after lando to have followed the same path to f1 and been Equally as good / achieved the same stock.

*__* does any of that make sense. 

do u ever think about how lando (extensively nurtured by the team as their only junior) and oscar (basically crashlanded belatedly into his seat) are the only driver pairing in team history to have both debuted with mclaren........ do you ever think about how in a way lando's karting success indirectly influenced oscar's move to europe. do you ever think about how if alpine weren't an abject mess we would have never gotten 814 as teammates and lando would have just been Another Guy On The Grid to him........ 😮‍💨

[sunny-speaks]

Promise

Characters: Ren from @14dayswithyou x reader

lolol angst!!

If you read this post, it's basically the same guidelines!

You get stabbed in front of your resident Yandere and he has to stay by your side as you slowly leave from his life, permanently.

Trigger warnings: Death

Also i am really bad at making songs, just imagine it's a laufey type beat, i've been listening to her songs obsessively lately...

You felt a sharp, piercing stab in your abdomen as you crumpled to the ground. Your body felt paralyzed from the intial shock and pain.

Ren immediately felt his breath grow shallow as he looked down at you in horror, already feeling your body slip through his hands which were too slow to catch you.

You swayed a little before Ren set into action, quickly cursing himself internally for not catching you sooner. He looked at you with terrified eyes, as you curled in on yourself in his arms. His voice wavered, swallowing any possible noises from making their way out of his throat. He had to be strong, if not for himself, for you. He’d spent years acting like characters for you, it’d be so so so easy to do it again…

So why was he crying like a baby? “A-Angel,” His voice, usually melodic and shy, stuttered with his breath shaking and arms hesitant to cradle you in them. “A-Angel, you’re, you’re going to be alright, I promise.”

You saw that look in his eyes, you saw the hope, you saw the denial. You knew he wasn’t just lying to you, he was lying to himself.

“Angel, can you-” He forced back a wretched noise and a hoarse tone, “Can you stay concious? For… for me? For your Renren, huh?” He grit his teeth into a smile, hoping that would make it harder to spot the tears in his eyes.

It didn’t.

“My Renren?” You shakily managed, laboured breaths in between forced chuckles, “You mean the pretty guy who’s– aghkk― who’s cryin’ over me? I’d have to be so mean to do that to hi-” You gagged back the blood, iron-like taste on your tongue. It was an uphill struggle to hide your pain from anyone, even moreso from a guy who had spent his whole life studying you to be closer even for a second.

His eyes watered, his eyebrows furrowed inwards in a earnestly distraught expression, “Y-You’re not mean, angel. You could never be. ‘D-Don’t have it in you to be mean t’ anyone…” He sniffed, not wanting to get his tears on you, not wanting to desecrate you with his stupid emotions. “Even if they were a pathetic, cowardly liar. …Like I am.” [REDACTED] looked down at you in his arms.

You could never love a freak like him. Much less, while you’re dying.

You frowned, “Hey. Hey, don’t say that about yourself.” You brought your already-fragile hand up to his face, thumb gently swiping right under his eyes where tears threatened to fall from. “You’re none of those words, okay? You’re so… You’re so pretty, love. You’re so brave. You’re so awesome, alright? Don’t ever say anything like that about yourself.” You brought a second hand up to his face, gently pulling his closer to yours as your foreheads bumped together. “I -hgkk— I love you. I know you’re… hiding something from me, Ren.”

His breath hitched in his chest. You… you knew? You knew he was lying to you and you… You still loved him?

 You knew how horrible he was, lying to the person he claimed he loved most, even though he did, and you… you still wanted him after that?

Tears unabashedly dripped down his face, mouth agape at the reveal.

You let out a strained chuckle, “Yeah, I knew… But darling, if you were so scared, why didn’t you hide it better?”

He… didn’t know.

He didn’t know.

Why didn’t he hide it better? Why didn’t he try to prevent you from ever seeing what a monster he is?

You let out a series of small, breathless laughs, “Y-You wanted me to see, didn’t you?” He blinked, no, he’d never want that. He’d never want anyone to see how disgusting and horrific he was… 

Your voice breaks but your smile doesn’t. You grin through the pain, flash him a real smile that he’s seen, no lies hidden behind it, “I love you, Ren. I’ll love you, forever and ever. And I’d— hrnkk– I’d never love you any less for being any different. You never have to be anyone around me. Never.”

[REDACTEd] froze. Maybe he had wanted you to see. Wanted someone to see. And see too, that he was human and he was worth loving like how you loved him.

And this would be both the first and last time he’d hear you say it.

His heart froze over and shattered like dry ice in his chest. How could it hurt so much if he could still feel it pumping warm blood through his chest?

How could it hurt so bad if he thought he was the monster he’d been taught he was? Monsters don’t have hearts, they can’t. Humans are weak to emotion, he isn’t. He isn’t, he isn’theisn’theisn’t.

“A-Angel,” He started to cry, sobs wracking through his chest, “You-You can’t leave me like this! I-I can’t live without you, please!” Mumbled, intellgible pleas slipped through his mouth, desperate to convince someone―you, himself, anyone really -that his begging could save your life.

As his emotions swept him up, swallowed him whole, they also started making you feel as desperate, straining to keep your familiar grin on your face in favor of breaking down in his arms. You could feel the strength leaving your body, trying to even talk taking so much out of you, “Ren. Ren, my beautiful, beautiful Ren. You,” Tears were welling up in your eyes. If it was from the physical pain or the emotional, you weren’t quite sure. Your voice cracked, “You don’t have to live without me, Ren. Live for me, alright? I don’t—” You grimaced, pressing your lips and gritting your teeth so you don’t make any strained noises of pain. “I don’t care what you do with your life, Ren. But please,” Your vision is going blurry from the tears and the pain of your wound, “Please don’t die for me. You- You have to promise. Fucking promise me, Ren!”

Your breaths heave through your chest, desperate anger racking through your lungs, anguish filling your features. You didn’t know if you could die peacefully of Ren died too.

The two of you hadn’t even gotten that far in your realtionship, he had somany firsts to experience.

And you wanted him to experience them all. Even if they weren’t with you.

“Li-Live for me, live for yourself, Ren.” Your voice was croaky and hoarse from yelling at him, “But just… please live.”

You were… You were begging him. You wanted him… to live in a world without you?

Without his Angel?

He couldn’t…

He couldn’t do―

…He could.

For you.

Only for you.

But he doesn’t want to live without you. He doesn’t want to wake up and know that he’ll never, ever see you again. HE doesn’t want to go to bed knowing that there are hundreds of people who won’t ever know you. He doesn’t want to sit down at his computer every day knowing that he walks the worl;d with the heart of a monster while you are dead despite you being his Angel.

He… he can’t.

But he has to do it for you. If that’s what you want from him, dying wish or not, it’d be cruel of him to refuse.

“...A-Anything for you, angel.” His bottom lip quivered as he let the words out of his mouth, his body faintly trembling as he held yours, blood getting all over his clothes.

“C-Can I ask you somethin’, Ren?” You looked up at him through hooded eyelids, spots in your vision and everything blurring.

He let out a series of strangled sobs and chuckles before a shaky smile made its way to his face. Still trying to reassure you, even when he knows that it’s too late. “Y-Yeah, angel?”

You hummed to yourself before choking a little on your blood, “Can you… can you sing me a song, Ren?”

You can tell the way he looked at you with such sad eyes and a pained whimper leaving his throat, “Y-Yeah. I can do that, angel. I made one for you a while back… would you like that?”

“Mhm… would like it a lot.”

“O-okay.” Ren furiously dabbed his face, and tried to clear his throat before starting, even if his voice was hoarse from crying or if his eyes were red from the tears falling.

“P-past the roses and the daisies, is where the sunset meets the sea. Someday, by the water, in the sand is where we’ll be.” 

He let out a soft chuckle.

“There’s nothing I wouldn’t give to have a second of your time while you hold my heart in one hand and i’m holding yours in mine.” 

His fingers intertwined with yours as he continued with his song.

“Oh my dearest, my angel, the love of my life. I will love you until the end of both our… lives.” A small smile graced his features as he continued singing, suddenly noticing the fatigue taking over you. His breathing began to quicken as yours began to slow, fear taking over his body once again.

“W-Wait, no, no, no.” He frantically jostled your body, “Angel, angel, no.” He winced at his actions, seeing the smile on your face in your limp body in his arms.

He pulled you to his chest, sobs heaving through his body, leaving little to no room for oxygen. He shuddered, his chest recoiling from yours as he wiped any tears off of your face before bringing you close again.

You were…gone.

His angel, the light of his life, the sun to his moon… was gone.

His heart broke into pieces. He knew he had to live for you now, but… how was he supposed to?

Everything, everything he did… was for you.

So what does he do now?

[bestaez]

Strangers (Chapter Nine)

Strangers from Hell AU

Series Masterlist

pairing: ot7 x reader

genre: yandere, horror/thriller

word count: 6k

warnings (lmk if i missed anything!): unreliable narrator, murder, mature themes, minor character death, obsessive/possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, stalking, bullying, violence, blood and injuries, mc has some self-deprecating thoughts, mc is lowkey in denial.

When Nayeon offered to book you a hotel room, you weren’t expecting her to book such a lavish place. You tried to convince her to pick a cheaper motel you wouldn't feel so guilty staying in but she wouldn’t allow it, insisting that you let her take care of you. It wasn’t like she didn’t have the money - her position paid quite a generous salary. But that wasn’t the point. She had already done so much for you and you just felt like you didn’t deserve any of it. She had waved off all your attempts, fixing you with an almost exasperated look that finally made you shut up.

It reminded me of the first night you met Nayeon, in the bathroom of one of the only college parties you had ever attended. Before you had met Jihoon, there was another guy from one of your classes that you had gotten close to. You had bonded over late night studying in the library and last-minute racing to the cafeteria before it closed. Despite your best efforts, you fell for him. When he invited you to his friend’s kickback, you were excited to spend more time with him. That was until he blew you off to have sex in his car with some random girl. The two of you weren’t exclusive by any means, but you couldn’t help but be jaded over it.

Even back then, you knew you were probably being silly for feeling jealous. But you were also just hurt that he had left you alone at a house party where you didn’t know anyone. When turning to drinking only resulted in you being even more intoxicated and sad, you had ventured off to the bathroom to let your feelings out. And that was how Nayeon had found you, sitting on the closed toilet seat with your head in your hands and tears streaming down your cheeks. 

“I can promise you he isn’t worth your tears,” She had stated, giving you a look in the mirror as she checked her makeup. When you explained your pathetic situation, she only scoffed in disbelief. She grabbed your hand, pulling you up from your seat and meeting your gaze fiercely. “I’m Nayeon. See, now you know one other person here.”

Nayeon had cheered you up with words of affirmations and fixed your makeup a bit. After that, she held your hand and walked you back down to where the party was. She introduced you to her friend group, which ironically included Jihoon. The two of them took you under their wing and became your closest friends throughout their college years. And now, the two of them here taking care of you in your adult years was very funny but almost meant to be.

Nayeon and Jihoon had initially planned to leave so that you could have some space but you begged them to stay. You didn’t trust your mind enough to be alone with your thoughts in a new place. Once they saw the teary look in your eyes, it wasn’t even a question. You ended up falling asleep cuddled up next to Jihoon with Nayeon sleeping in the spare bed, her back facing you. This sleepover arrangement was so strange but you allowed yourself to enjoy the familiar company for one night.

The next morning, the two of them had left in order to grab a change of clothes - both promising to return as soon as they could. You knew it was only reasonable for them to leave eventually but you couldn’t help the heavy feeling in your chest. It had been so cozy there in your little bubble.

You don’t know how long you stayed in bed like that, staring at the wall deep in thought. The sound of your phone buzzing next to you broke you out of your daze, glancing at the screen to see an incoming call from your mom. Your heart skipped a beat, paranoid thoughts that she might know what happened sneaking in. Did Jihoon or Nayeon tell her?

Your hands shook as you brought the phone to your ear, “Mom?”

“Hi honey! I was just calling to check in,” Her comforting voice came through the speaker, causing your racing heart to slow just a bit. “How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” You paused, trying to keep the confusion lacing your tone. “How are you?”

“Great! I wanted to thank you for sending that check.” You froze in your spot on the bed, eyes staring unblinking as she spoke. “I didn’t realize you were going to send so much. You have no idea what this will do for us.”

Whatever else she said after that went unheard by you, your mind trying to make sense of what she said. You never sent her any check. At least, you had no memory of doing so. She had only called you the other day so you hadn’t had the time to. And at this point, you weren’t sure you would even have the means to do so anymore. You didn’t know if you should tell her the truth so you just remained quiet, trying to focus on what she was saying. She was updating you on your brother’s condition, which as it seemed was improving. 

“Oh- your brother’s awake now. I’ll put him on.”

You waited and then your brother’s voice came on the line, “YN?”

“Minjun?” You hadn’t expected the tears that came flooding in at the sound of your baby brother’s voice. It was a much-needed comfort. “How are you?”

“I’m doing okay. Mom said you helped pay for my procedure. Thank you so much, sissy.”

You choked a little, not knowing if you should take credit for something you didn’t do but ultimately deciding not to let them stress over it either. “Of course, Junie. I hope you’re feeling better now.”

“Yes, I feel a lot better.” He answered, sounding strong and hopeful. “Are you liking it out there in the city? Is your job pretty cool?”

“It’s not bad and, uh, yeah my job is pretty cool.” You feel so lame lying to your brother like this but it’s not like you could tell him the truth. You didn’t know how you were even going to tell your mother.

You listened to your brother chat for a little while longer. He told you funny stories about the different roommates he had encountered during his trips to the hospital. You half-listened, half-marveled at how grown up he sounded. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it. You hadn’t left home that long ago so why did they feel so far away?

After the call ended, all you could do was stare at the phone in confusion. Was it possible you sent your mother money and completely forgot about it? No, there was so way. You weren’t that out of it. So, then who did? Your first thought was maybe Jihoon or Nayeon because they had always loved your mom when they came to visit with you during your school breaks. They claimed your mom made the best naengmyeon and always begged her to make it for them. But, you don’t remember ever telling them about your family’s money problem.

Before you could stress yourself out even more, there was a knock at the door. You got up slowly, light footsteps making your way to the door as you stared at it cautiously. For some reason, you were on edge thinking about who it could be. Jihoon and Nayeon never said when they would come back, just that it would be a little while.

Just as you were leaning up to check the peephole, a deep voice sounded behind the door. “It’s me, YN.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, unlocking it to see your boyfriend’s face waiting patiently behind it. He raised his eyebrows at you playfully, waiting for you to step aside to let him in. Once you were both inside and the door was shut behind you, you felt much calmer and safer.

Jihoon wasted no time making himself at home, settling in on the foot of the bed with a bag by his feet. You took a seat next to him, muscles tense as you tried to appear relaxed next to him. But of course, he knew you too well and saw right through your act.

“Calm down, YN.” Jihoon’s shoulder bumped yours lightly. “You look so tense.”

“Sorry.” You mumbled, falling backwards on the bed in a heap. “I don’t know why I just feel so paranoid.”

“Why? You know you’re safe here, right?” He turned to look at you fully, concern etched into his expression.

“Yes. That’s the problem, I’m too scared to leave.” You explained, biting your lip thoughtfully.

Jihoon sighed, leaning back he turned to give you a long look. He looked deep in thought about something, opening his mouth a few times before finally settling with, “Look-”

Another knock at the door interrupted him. He paused, looking at you before getting up to check the peephole. You already knew who it was by the way his shoulders sagged knowingly, going to unlock the door and let her in.

Nayeon came in, bright-eyed and rosy cheeked. She, too, had a bag with her that she dropped by your feet unceremoniously. She plopped down next to you on the bed, throwing an arm over your shoulder and squeezing you affectionately. “How’s my dongsaeng?

“Better, I think.” You answered as honestly as you could, palms rubbing the fabric of your pants idly. “I spoke to my mom earlier.”

“Yeah? Did you tell her what happened?” Jihoon asked curiously as he perched himself on the desk before you.

“No, definitely not. I don’t want to freak her out,” You shake your head, laughing humorlessly. “She’s been stressed enough these days. Actually, come to think of it, I know this sounds crazy but did either of you send her money recently?”

They both shook their heads at you curiously, frowns etched on their faces.

“It’s so weird. She thanked me for sending her a check but I don’t recall ever sending her one. She had asked me for one and I had been planning to, but I never got around to doing it.”

“Is it possible you did but just forgot?” Nayeon’s tone was light as she regarded you carefully.

“I don’t know.”

The three of you were silent after that, thoughts lingering over your heads that no one dared to speak out loud. You knew they were probably surveying your emotions, not wanting to say something that could possibly upset you. The fact that even Nayeon, your most outspoken friend, was quiet said something. You knew how this all must look and it all made you feel so helpless.

*****

It took some convincing but the two of them managed to get you out of the hotel room, insisting that it was important you didn’t grow dependent on staying inside. They also claimed they were starving and didn’t want to spend money on the expensive hotel room food, which you couldn’t argue with.

The walk to the restaurant wasn’t long and once inside, you found it was actually quite small and cozy. The three of you found a booth in the back, Jihoon pausing to let you slide in first as he came in next to you. Your mind was so jumbled you couldn’t even decipher the words on the menu, too distracted by all the other customers in the store. It wasn’t even that busy but every noise put you on edge. 

Jihoon had ordered something simple for you, sensing how difficult you were finding it to pick something to eat. You leaned into his shoulder and smiled thankfully, too absorbed in your boyfriend’s thoughtful actions to notice the jealous gaze on you both.

“So, YN,” Your eyes rose to find Nayeon staring at you with a curious look on her face, eyebrows raised. “What’s your plan?”

“I’m not sure, to be honest.” You threaded your fingers together, gaze averting to the tabletop nervously. “Have you heard anything?”

“Well, if you’re asking about your job, I don’t even know what to say. It doesn’t sound good, that’s for sure.” You nodded with a sigh, expecting that much. “But I haven’t heard anything about if she’s gonna press charges. Maybe if you apologized...”

“I don’t know if I can face her again.” Your hands trembled as you placed them on the table before you. Memories of your court case flooded back in and sent a cold shock to your system, having to deal with that girl and her family’s death glares was something you never wanted to experience again. “God, I’m such a mess.”

“We’ll help you get through this.” Jihoon placed his hand onto yours comfortingly, looking down at you with a soft smile on his face. The two of you held your gazes for a moment, feeling connected for the first time in a long time.

You didn’t notice the way Nayeon eyed your joined hands silently for a moment before she, too, placed her hand on yours, causing you both to look back at her. “Yes, we will.”

You found that despite life driving you apart in recent months, spending time in the presence of your two closest companions was much needed. Even if they hadn’t always been there for you before, they had shown up now without you even asking. You felt yourself relaxing into the warm bubble around them, almost forgetting how stressful your life had been up until now.

You open your mouth to thank them, freezing when your eyes fall on a figure in all-black entering the restaurant. You blink in shock, trying to see if it’s really him or just a hallucination. You wouldn’t be surprised if you were seeing things at this point but when the other two look at the entrance curiously, you know it’s real. You can’t explain the cold feeling that blooms in your chest at the sight of him. There’s just something about his presence that sets you off.

“Who is that, YN?” You can’t even respond, frozen in fear as he spots you, turning to approach the table.

“Hey stranger.” You can only gawk as Jihoon and Nayeon give you a questioning look. The newcomer appears unbothered by all the attention as he turns to look at Jihoon. “You must be the boyfriend.”

“And you are?” Jihoon raises an unimpressed eyebrow, trying to appear unfazed by the tense energy.

“Sorry, I’m being rude.” He chuckles, holding his hand out in introduction. “I’m Namjoon, YN’s roommate.”

The two of them shake hands, Namjoon looking almost too eager while Jihoon seemed apprehensive, sizing the former up where he stood. You risk a glance at Nayeon, who was too busy studying Namjoon curiously. You could tell she thought he was attractive with the way her eyes were raking up and down his form, unable to look away.

“Well, we were kind of in the middle of something-” Jihoon pulls his hand away finally, shaking his arm uncomfortably.

“Why don’t you join us?” Nayeon’s invitation shocks you all, but Namjoon eats it up as he slid in next to her with a grin. You are surprised to see her flip her hair to one side as she leans forward in her seat, gaze falling to her blouse that seemed to have more obvious cleavage than before. Had she unbuttoned her blouse that quickly?

“I’m Nayeon,” She clears her throat, bringing your roommate’s attention to her finally. He blinks as if just now taking her in. “I’m YN’s best friend.”

“Oh really?” Namjoon responds coolly, leaning back. “YN never mentioned a best friend.”

“Well that’s surprising because I’m the reason she’s here. I got her a job at my company. Well, what was her job.” Nayeon declares matter-of-factly, ignoring the deadpanned look Jihoon gives her. “I’m actually the chief-”

“Ah, that must be why you’re so full of yourself.” Your eyes widen at Namjoon’s bluntness, Jihoon snorting next to you.

“Excuse me?” Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Clearly, Nayeon was used to people praising her instead of judging her.

“You think you’re better than her because you’re some executive. If you’re in such a good position, why couldn’t you get her a real job instead of a stupid internship?” The tension was thick as you and Jihoon stared back and forth at the two bickering on the other side of the table. You felt like you weren’t even here, unable to believe any of this was happening. “And then you have the nerve to take all the credit for YN getting this position as if her own merit didn’t have anything to do with it. YN is a good person and you only put her down. You don’t deserve her.”

“How are you going to sit here and act like you know her in front of the two people who care about her the most?” Nayeon spits, rage filling her eyes. “She’s been my best friend for years-”

“You’re disgusting. Pretending like you care about her when you’re too busy fucking her boyfriend to answer her calls.”

At first, it was like you didn’t even hear it. It felt like you were in a dream and couldn’t get your ears to work or mouth to speak. Only when you saw Nayeon’s mouth open and close, her eyes blinking rapidly and avoiding making contact with your own did you fully register it. You looked at Jihoon, who seemed to be breaking out of his stupor as he reached across the table and grabbed Namjoon’s collar.

“Who the fuck do you think you are to say something like that?!” You don’t think you’ve ever seen your boyfriend get this angry. You could only stare in awe, meanwhile no one seemed to be brave enough to spare a look at you.

“Look at this fucking guy,” Namjoon laughed darkly, unbothered by the tight grip on his shirt. “Who are you acting all tough for, huh? Your girlfriend or your sidepiece?”

At that, Jihoon ripped Namjoon up out of his seat as they both stood and moved out into the aisle. More customers had arrived during your time here and the small crowd was watching the altercation. Somehow, you were too distracted to be embarrassed by all the attention.

“YN,” Nayeon reaches across the table to hold your arm tightly, “You know he’s lying, right? I don’t know where he got that from.”

You didn’t respond, wrenching yourself out of her grasp and finally getting out of your seat. Namjoon and Jihoon paused their staredown when you breezed past them, heading for the restaurant doors. You didn’t know what to think but you needed some air.

You had a few seconds to yourself as you stood outside the restaurant, the sky dark around you as night had fallen. There weren’t too many people in the street so at least it was peaceful for a moment. The sound of the doors flying open behind you popped that bubble.

“YN, I-”

“Is it true?” You didn’t turn around to look at Jihoon, unable to look at his face when he answered. But when he didn’t respond, you finally looked back. He could only stare at you sadly, and for a moment you thought you might have seen his eyes getting glossy behind his glasses before you rationalized it was probably just the glare from the streetlights. 

You looked at Nayeon, who stood a few feet away. She met your gaze head-on, trying to appear strong but you could tell from the way she shuffled her feet that she was nervous. There weren't many things that made your best friend uncomfortable but you knew a guilty look when you saw one.

“How could you?” Many emotions crossed her face - denial, surprise, sadness until she eventually settled with a mask of indifference.

“What do you want me to say? It’s not like you two were in the best of places. He was bored, I was lonely.” She shrugged, crossing her arms over her chest. “C’mon, we’re all adults here. Shit happens. I’m sorry.”

That last part felt like an afterthought and you knew she didn’t really mean it. You stared at your oldest friend with this new-found light and it was like suddenly, all her flaws were visible. She truly was a stone-cold bitch and you felt foolish for taking this long to realize it. Perhaps you were too close to her before to truly see it.

“It must be so lonely surrounding yourself with such narcissistic people,” Namjoon’s voice caught you off guard from where she stood a few feet away, making you tense up on the spot. “Especially in a scary new place like this. But, you know you’re not alone, YN. You always have us.”

“Oh my god,” Nayeon burst out laughing, covering her mouth. “Do you hear yourself? Fucking weirdo.”

“How the fuck did you even know, huh? Are you some kind of stalker?” Jihoon finds his voice as rage once again consumes him, turning to Namjoon as he steps closer.

“I’m just someone who cares a lot for YN, clearly more than you both do.” Namjoon answers simply, as if his revelations on your relationship are easy information for anyone to find. It was happening in your own life and you couldn’t even see it.

“Whatever. YN, I know you probably don’t want to hear it from me but if I were you, I’d get a restraining order against this guy’s ass.” You don’t look at her as Nayeon says her piece before turning to leave, walking further away down the sidewalk.

It’s silent for a while after that. You can’t get yourself to move your feet, staring at the ground as if deep in thought but nothing really sticking. You can feel the burning gazes of both men on you but you’re too zoned out to care.

“YN, let me take you back to the hotel at least.” Jihoon softly calls out to you, stepping closer. It isn’t until you feel his hand on you that you finally snap. “Honey-”

“Don’t call me that.” You spit, throwing your fists against his chest angrily. “Don’t touch me. Just.. fuck off!” 

Jihoon could only stand there and take it as you beat against him senselessly, allowing you to let your frustrations out on him. It wasn’t until you felt your energy start to lessen and tears fill your eyes that you finally gave him a good shove, turning on your heel to get away from him.

The sound of footsteps behind you caused you to hasten your steps, not wanting to deal with another confrontation and just wanting to be alone. When you felt a hand on your shoulder, you reeled back in anger only to see it was Namjoon following you.

“Namjoon, w-what?” You breathed, too absorbed in the drama of your boyfriend cheating on you to think about his part in all this. “Why are you here?”

“Are you okay?” He seemed concerned as he closed the gap between your bodies, peering down at you.

“How did you know about them? Were you following us?” All those times you had been out somewhere and thought you saw someone in the corner of your eye or heard something behind you - had it been him all along? Or any of your other roommates? Were they all in on this?

“Remember when I said your boyfriend didn’t deserve you? I knew something was off that night when he didn’t answer your calls.” Namjoon answers truthfully, looking into your eyes.

“Look, I appreciate the concern but can you just back off? It’s starting to creep me out.” You shuffled from one foot to another, looking away from him in discomfort.

“I can’t.” 

You looked back up at him, trying to conceal your gasp at his blatant disregard for your wishes. He reaches out to brush some of your hair away from your face as he sighs thoughtfully. A tense silence follows as you freeze where you stand, his words and actions making you stare at him in confusion. As much as his recent behavior had thrown you off guard, nothing could prepare you for what came out his mouth next. 

“I don’t know if I ever told you this before but once I find my target, I never let them go.” Your heart stutters in your chest as his thumb brushes across your cheek, dark eyes tracking the action casually. 

“Your target? What the fuck is wrong with you?” You pushed his hand away from your face, stepping back from him to create some distance. “You know what, I don’t care. Just stay the fuck away from me before I call the police.”

You turn your back on him as you move further down the street, which might not have been the smartest move around a seemingly dangerous person but you were eager to get out of his presence. Much to your surprise, he doesn’t follow you - or at least, you don’t hear him behind you at all. You’re almost too scared to check.

“YN.” Namjoon’s voice makes you jump, legs trembling as you turn slightly to look back at him standing in the exact spot you left him in. “I promise I’ll show you how much I care for you.”

You don’t respond, hurrying up the hill in an attempt to get to safety. He didn’t seem like he was planning on following you but that doesn’t stop you from turning around every few steps to ensure there is no one there, each time only finding the empty street. You do this the entire way until you find yourself at the hotel, so relieved to be back you could cry.

And when you finally flop down in your bed, that’s exactly what you do.

*****

An incessant buzzing sound slowly woke you from your slumber, lifting your head to blink blearily around the room in confusion. Your head was in such a fog you couldn’t remember where you were for a second. The only thing your mind could focus on was the source of the noise, pulling your phone from the nightstand and tapping at it to get it to shut up.

Once silenced, you laid your head back on the pillow in hopes to pick back up where you left off. Before you could even get close, the buzzing started up again much to your annoyance. You huffed, picking the phone back up and swiping to answer it.

“What-” Your tone is harsh, ready to lash out on your bitch of a best friend. As if sleeping with your boyfriend wasn’t enough, now she has to blow up your phone in a time like this.

“Where are you?” At Nayeon’s frantic tone, you felt yourself waking up a bit more.

“Why are you calling me?” You didn’t have time for this, moving to end the call and finally block her for good when her rushed voice stopped you.

“YN, this is serious. Tell me where you are.”

“I’m back at the hotel room,” Confused, you find yourself sitting up in the bed and running a hand through your hair. “Why?”

“Okay, stay there. I’m on my way.” She spoke quickly, the sound of metal jingling around in the background followed by a door slamming. It sounded like she was driving, which you knew was something she hated doing. This must be serious.

“Wait, what’s going on? I don’t want to see you-” You began, feeling your stomach turn at the thought of having to face your homewrecker of a friend right now. 

“Jiwan is dead.”

You don’t know how much time had passed from the moment the call ended to when Nayeon arrived at the hotel, the sound of loud knocking waking you up out of the daze you had been in. Standing up on wobbly legs, it felt as if you were floating as you made your way over to the door. The tremor in your hands made it a little difficult to unlatch the door but once it was open, your old friend breezed her way in.

You followed behind her slowly, feeling out of place despite it being your own room. Eventually, you found yourself getting back into your spot on the bed by the pillows. Being in a safe, comfortable position settled you a bit. Nayeon stood tense in front of the bed, arms crossed and her eyes looking anywhere but at you. In the back of your mind, you found her sudden change in character to be a bit ironic.

“W-what happened?” Your voice sounded far away, like it wasn’t connected to you at all. She finally looked up, her eyes meeting yours in a way that made your heart skip a beat.

“She was found dead in her apartment this morning. Someone killed her.” She answered quickly, sounding like her own mind was trying to wrap around it.

At that moment, it was like time stopped. There was no sound, not even Jiwan’s voice or your own breathing. The blood was rushing in your ears, throbbing almost painfully. You weren’t sure if you could actually hear your own heartbeat or if it was just the feeling of it pounding in your chest.

“YN?” You looked up to see her looking at you with a frown on her face. You don’t know what that look meant.

“I-I don’t understand. I just saw her the other day when I...” Almost choking on the words as it felt like your throat was closing up, you stopped yourself from continuing that sentence. “How did she die?”

“What I heard was that someone broke in sometime during the night and strangled her. Nothing appeared to be stolen, so they think it was a targeted attack.” She explains, heaving a deep troubled sigh.

You didn’t even know what to think or say. None of it made any sense to you. Sure, Jiwan wasn’t the most enjoyable person to be around but how could she be gone just like that? You were one to talk, after scalding her with a hot beverage just the other day. The thought made you gasp a little, eyes widening as the entire situation registered in your mind. God, you probably looked so guilty.

“Where were you?” Nayeon’s voice breaks you out of your train of thought, eyes snapping back up to see a cautious expression on her face.

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Like last night... after you left.” She waved her hand around in a hurried explanation.

“I came here. I’ve been here the whole night.” You explained carefully, trying to figure out where she was going with this. “Why?

“Just wondering.”

Your jaw dropped in shock, reeling back to look at her incredulously, “You think I did it.” 

“No, I mean- I don’t know what to think.” She sighs, running a hand over her face in frustration. 

“Look, you have to admit you might be considered a suspect after everything. What with the way she was harassing you for weeks and your history...”

“Are you kidding me? I know I’ve had anger problems in the past but I’m not a killer.” You huff irritably, crossing your arms over your chest like a child.

“In the past? YN, you threw boiling hot water on that woman just the other day. You clearly have some unchecked anger here.” She gives you a look and now you truly feel like a child being scolded. “Plus, I’m sure finding out about me and Jihoon didn’t help-”

“Oh my god, I can’t believe this!” You snap at her, frustration oozing from your form as you pinched your nose. She made you feel like you were crazy. Maybe you were. “No, wait- what I can’t believe is that I’m actually talking to you right now.”

“Okay, let’s just be calm. I know I’m probably the last person you wanna see but let’s face it, you’re gonna need all the help you can get. Jihoon and I were the last people who saw you last night.”

“Where is Jihoon anyway?” You don’t bother looking at her, annoyed that you are even asking her about your boyfriend’s whereabouts. 

“I don’t know.” At her simple response, you snap your gaze back up at her accusingly. She shifts uncomfortably in her spot, awkwardly avoiding your glare.

“What? You guys didn’t sleep together last night?” You laugh bitterly despite not at all finding the situation humorous. “Isn’t that why you practically forced me to stay at this hotel?”

She heaves out a sigh, as if she’s stressed over the situation. “Look, I understand you hate me right now but I actually came here to help you. I was worried about you.”

“Oh, please-” You were ready to go off on her again when the buzzing of your phone interrupted you. Picking it up, you rolled your eyes at the sight of the caller ID. Speak of the devil.

“What-” The sound of heavy breathing and pained groans made you pause, listening intently to the other line. “Jihoon?”

“YN...” You had never heard your boyfriend’s voice sound like that, so helpless and weak. Jihoon had always been calm, almost monotone. Something was definitely wrong.

“What’s wrong?” You felt the bed dip as Nayeon quickly sat next to you, her ear now pressed up to the phone as well.

The line was silent for a while, your heart pounding in your chest as you waited for a response. Just when it looked like Nayeon was about to lose her composure and grab the phone from you, the call ended. You stared down at the screen in shock, not understanding any of it.

“What the fuck, call them back!” You startled at the sound of Nayeon’s panicked voice, fingers nervously tapping at your screen to redial when a text came in.

The picture that had come in looked like something from a horror movie. Jihoon was tied to what looked like a dentist’s chair, cuts and bruises littering the exposed skin of his face and hands. His clothes were torn and dirtied with blood in some places. But the scariest part of all were his eyes - once always so bright and beautiful behind his glasses were now shut, the skin around them puffy and purple. He looked dead.

Nayeon barely had time to look at the picture before the phone started ringing again. The two of you stared at each other in shock for a moment. You felt as if you were on auto-pilot, just letting her take the reins as she answered the call with shaking hands.

“What did you do to him?” Nayeon spoke, her voice thick with emotion. You couldn’t hear their response but it clearly only served to make her more upset if her pinched facial expression proved anything. “I don’t care if you want to talk to her - put Jihoon on!”

“I’d be nice to me if I were you, seeing as your lover’s life is in my hands. Put YN on right now,” Nayeon had already done it before he said it, and you weren’t prepared for it when he suddenly addressed you. “Are you listening, YN?”

“Yes.” You cringed at how weak your voice sounded.

“Your boyfriend wants to see you. You shouldn’t have run away, YN.” 

“Don’t you dare touch him!” Strangely enough, you were glad Nayeon was here because you weren’t sure if you would have had the courage to speak on your own.

“Why not?” There was the sound of shuffling on the other end before he heaved a deep sigh. “He means nothing to me.”

“You sick bastard, I’ll kill you!” You flinched at how loud Nayeon got, her features twisted in anger. In the back of your mind, you wondered if she might break your phone from how tightly she was gripping it.

“I’m planning a special get-together for the roommates tonight, YN. I’d really love it if you came... and you can bring your friend I guess.” You could practically hear his eye-roll through the speaker. “If you try to call the police or run away again, I’ll know. Don’t make me upset or you’ll regret it.”

There was a pause as you both tried to process his words, not understanding his plan but knowing it couldn’t be good. Nayeon opened and closed her mouth a few times, clearly as stunned as you felt.

“I’ll be waiting here for you.”

taglist: @min-mingii @micheleinumaki @potaetopic @namjinieesope @mageprincess7 @minshookie29 @outro-kook @nikipedia07 @axniyx @kittykatfey @peaceout97 @kurodach @bex-tk1 @sa7kou @purpuravm @doublebunv @amylouisecullen @rossemayme @unsureofwhathappens @sleepy-time-dreamy @anushaackerman @shyloh-the-cornsnake  @toughbook @urbanbts @carpioassists @millenniumspec @maliyachan @lovely247 @croctears @uarmyhore @shadoweepingscream @inlovewiththehpcast @jcrml​

A/N: welp... a lot of shit hit the fan in this one ngl😅 lmk what u think but also pls be nice!! hehe i know some ppl didn’t want them to cheat but i had to do it for the plot lmao im sorryyy. we’re almost all the end tho only one more chapter to go and then the craziness will end woooo