#i had one (1) good conversation with a stranger and this is how i act. pathetic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

whoahoney · 1 year

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Eddie from Chili’s Pt 3

Waiter!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: After weeks of talking and texting, the stars (and schedules) finally align and it’s finally date night. Buckle up, baby. 💖

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, mature language, slight angst, reader is nervous af but so is Eddie, allusions to smut, innuendos, weed smoking, lots of kissing and fluff!

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Eddie wasn’t a stranger to romance, by any means. He’d taken quite a few girls out on successful evening adventures and had done (close to) it all— dinners, movies, picnics, carnivals, festivals, concerts, rock climbing, you name it. He took pride in his creative ideas, most of them ending very well with a sleepover or quickie in the car with promises of second or third dates.

But no matter the passion and intensity that fueled their date, one of three things always happened; it would fizzle out, there’d be no real connection, or they couldn’t handle his schedule.

Eddie seemed to attract the girls that always wanted an adventure, the kind that wanted a fairy tale romance with extravagance and constant attention, which aren’t bad things to want, necessarily, he just wasn’t equipped for it.

So tonight, as he searched his closet for something to wear, he doubted his plan for the hundredth time.

You didn’t seem like one of those girls. Based off his impressions of you, you’d like to be cozy at home with a good book or a movie to watch. But if he’d asked you to spend the evening at his place to do just that, you’d probably get the wrong idea.

He sighed and dragged his hands down his face, sitting down on his unmade bed with shirts and pants thrown haphazardly around the room. “Dak!” He called through his hands. “DAAAAK” he cried until his door flew open with urgency.

“What?!” His older brother asked.

“Help me.”

“What?” He deadpanned.

“Help me.” He sat up and dropped his hands, his state somber as he help up two shirts.

“You’re not serious.” Dakota looked him over. “You’re not actually nervous right now, are you?”

“Sadly, I am deeply serious.” He shook his head at himself, in disbelief and almost disgust, “And that’s why I can’t dress myself right now.”

“Look at me, man.” Dakota crossed the room and put his hands on Eddie’s tattooed shoulders. “That girl has got it so bad for you already.” Despite his brothers assurance, Eddie rolled his eyes. “I’m serious!”

Eddie swatted away his brothers hands and walked over to the closet again, “Every time you look at your phone, you’re smiling.” Dak added.

“Not every time—“

“Every time it’s her, dumbass.” Dak rolled his eyes.

“So what?” Eddie grabbed yet another black band tee from the closet to look over.

“So! You act like you’re already in a relationship.”

Eddie scoffed, “How??”

“You haven’t been working your tables like you do!” Dak accused, and was already prepared with another reason before Eddie could roll his eyes one more time. “Those girls at brunch today! Two of them were making major eyes at you, one of them touched you and left a number and you didn’t do a thing!”

Eddie scoffed.

“—and I know you’re going out on the balcony at night to talk to her!” Dakota said with a smile, watching Eddie’s blush bloom.

“No, I just happen to be smoking when we decide to talk on the phone.” He shrugged and pulled the shirt over his head. “Thanks for nothing.” He pulled on his jacket and looked in the mirror.

Dakota rolled his dark eyes this time and sat on the bed, “Every night?”

“What? It’s not every night.”

“For the last two weeks, almost!” Dakota recalled quickly.

Eddie froze. It had been three weeks since you’d come back to the restaurant. Only three weeks had passed since he got your number and kissed you, actually kissed you. Since you’d started texting, the conversation hadn’t stopped.

You’d been great over the phone, your shyness only indicated by how long you took to type out a response, which he found very endearing, still. Your conversations ranged from the day to day of your work lives to why your favorite songs are your favorites, and who introduced you to your favorite snack and how you always have a bag in the cabinet. How certain books make you sit it down to take a breath and calm down and how you feel fictional things too viscerally sometimes.

Eddie loved that his phone was never dry anymore, finding himself lingering on every text bubble that bounced in wait for the next question you’d have for him. Girls seemed to ask the same questions, about his tastes and his history, but never why he still watches his favorite cartoon every night before bed or why he wears his moms rings on his right hand and not his left.

He hadn’t experienced this kind of infatuation before, so he tried not to count too much on it lasting—but it did.

“I like her! That’s not a secret!” Eddie says, sitting next to him to tie his shoes. Dakota smiles and looks down at Eddie’s glowing screen.

A notification from Snapchat with your name popped up, Dakota’s eyes going wide, “And you have her on snap?”

You’d added each other on snapchat before a week had passed, Eddie asking if you had one because he wanted to see your pretty face. You were thankful to not have to be the one to ask because you wondered about the same thing, he had the personality for it though, like he’d thrive on it or avoid it completely.

But Eddie liked snapchat. It wasn’t public, and his circle of friends were the only people he had on it. And now you were apart of that, too.

You loved watching his stories, the shenanigans he got up to at work and home were updated almost regularly. You’d seen him practice with his band, smoke in his car singing to music you’ve never heard, make drinks and salads at work with his hours in the caption and an invitation for his friends to “come see me, fuckers!!!!”

“My point is, little brother—

“Fuck offff—“

“—C’mon let me do my job.” Dakota looks at him pointedly. Eddie nods for him to continue. “No matter what you do tonight, she’s gonna have a great time. Cause it’s with you. And you guys already have a connection! I don’t recall you talking to anyone this much before a date.”

Eddie sighed and nodded. “You’re right.” He fought a smile by picking up his phone and opening the picture you took in a mirror.

‘Is this suitable? No scuba gear needed?’

Eddie chuckled to himself before he looked over your outfit in the frame and swallowed hard. You wore a fitted black skirt with a black knotted graphic tee, your legs covered by black sheer hose and black docs on your feet. You held a denim jacket in your hand and your hair was done the same way he’d seen it last.

He was thankful for the lack of time limit on the message, tempted to save it forever.

“My point proven.” Dakota stood and waved to the phone. Eddie groaned with a smile that Dakota returned.

“Stick to your plan, Ed, it’s a good one!” He called as he treaded down the hall, off to prepare for his own company tonight.

Eddie looked back down at the picture, at your lined eyes and glossed lips. He sighed and took a screenshot.

He flopped backwards on the bed, his arms flailed out and eyes closed before he had the idea to snap a picture of himself and draw x’s over his eyes.

‘So gorgeous you knocked me dead.’

He wanted to roll his eyes at himself, but he couldn’t because he had it on good authority it would make you smile.

And it absolutely did.

You fell into your couch, clutching your phone at the sight of him. His curls were perfect and his tattoos peeked out of the collar of his shirt. You groaned to yourself in agony—how dare he be so hot!!!

And funny!!!

He was always sending you something to make you smile—‘Avaca—don’t fuck with me” being one of your favorites he’d sent as he munched on chips and guac over his break one day.

But this one sent butterflies rushing through you, and they only multiplied when you saw he saved your picture.

You check the time, Eddie due to pick you up at 6:30.

It was 6:27, and as you get up to spritz some perfume, you hear a knock at your door. Your heart leapt, how long had you been sitting there looking at his face??

You grab your purse and shrug on your jacket as you run to open the door.

In the hallway he stood, 6’2” in boots that matched yours. “Hey, sweet girl!” His smile brightened as he greeted you, his heart quickening in delight when you threw your arms around him. He didn’t hesitate to bend down and hug you back. “I missed you.” He found himself saying into your hair.

“I missed you too.” You smile over his shoulder as his large hand rubbed your back.

He pulled back from the hug to let you lock your door and immediately offered his arm, “Right this way, milady.”

You chuckle and hook your arm through his. “So can you tell me where we’re going now?” You ask as you come to the elevator and he pushes the button. You’d brought it up a couple times in the weeks you’d been texting, determined to get a clue no matter how big or small.

But alas, Eddie was proving to be a good secret keeper.

He tsked and shook his head, “Nice try, sweetheart. But each location is highly classified and I’m not at liberty to divulge that kind of information.” The doors opened and he gestured for you to step inside first.

“But you literally are.” You say as he pushes the button for the bottom floor. He looks at you with mischief in his eye, one that sends your gaze downward and your cheeks blushing.

“Hey,” he says softly. You look up and find him closer, his hand landing on your shoulder, “No shy stuff tonight, okay?” He says gently. Not a demand, but an encouragement. “I want you to be comfortable with me.”

You nod at him.

“Yeah?” He asks in confirmation, to which you nod again. He takes your hand as the doors open and leads you outside to his car.

You should’ve known he’d drive a shiny blacked out camaro, the windows tinted darker than you thought legal. Eddie looked proud as he watched you take in his pride and joy he had detailed at his second job special for tonight.

You got to the door before he could, the man mentally scolding himself as he watched you buckle up while he climbed in and shut the door. He marked how pretty you looked sitting in his car, like that seat had been waiting for you.

Your skirt stretched deliciously over your thighs and rode up in the back as you settled, your fingers sat intertwined in your lap and picking at a hangnail absentmindedly as he starts the car, his music kicking on and the air conditioning blowing his air freshener through the vents, smelling like him.

“You sure you’re comfortable?” He asked, spying your hand and slipping his fingers between yours. Your hand relaxes into his and you give him a squeeze and nod, “Yeah!” You say, “I’m sure. Thank you.” You nod again.

Eddie narrows his eyes playfully, as do you with a poorly repressed smile. “You sure…” he says with suspicion in his tone.

You nod again with a soft smile, “Yeah.”

“…Can I have a kiss to prove it?” He asked, smiling when he saw you practically melt, your eyes dipping to his lips before you nodded and leaned toward him. “Thanks—” He mumbles before cupping your face and tilting you up to meet his lips for an innocent lingering peck. He pulled back and smiled at you when you noticed yours stayed closed for a few moments longer than his.

“Thank you.” You finally manage as he gently releases your cheek as if he didn’t want to, and chuckles at you, shifting the car into reverse and exiting the parking lot.

“Wait, locations? Plural? There’s more than one?” You ask suddenly.

“Aght! That’s all you get!” He says with warning in his tone before he takes your hand again. You giggle at his touch and he looks at you and then back at the road, “M’sorry! I just like you or something!” He says as he releases your hand and you’re quick to snatch his right back up.

“No! I think it’s cute.” You say, lacing your fingers with his and covering it with your other hand. You don’t miss how he smiles at the road, lifting your hand to his lips.

“I like affection, if you couldn’t tell.” He shrugged, his lips brushing over your skin as he spoke, and then pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

You smile at the feeling, “I thought it might be a possibility.”

“If you don’t like any of it, you’d tell me, right?” He asked.

You nod, “Yeah, I would.”

“You would?” He asks in clarification.

You nod again.

“So you like it?” He asked with a smile.

Your jaw opens and you can’t help but smile and nod again, “Yes!” You cover your eyes with your hands in embarrassment, “You just like to mess with me, don’t you?” You cross your arms and ignore your burning cheeks as you smiled at his own grin, really just taking him in after three weeks without seeing him in person.

“I wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t so fun!” He remarked and patted your knee fondly.

You shake your head but say nothing back, knowing you liked it when he picked on you.

“And here we are, stop number one.” He says as he pulls into a restaurant. The building was white stucco and had two stories. There was outdoor seating with large black umbrellas for shade, and a sign sat atop the building with red neon lining the swirled letters that read, ‘LaDonna’s’

“C’mon.” He smiled, opening his door. You unbuckle and by the time you’re reaching for the handle he’s popped the door open and reached out for you. You smile as he pulls you to your feet and leads you to the door, your hand in his the whole way.

When you’re seated, a waiter bounds over with a smile set on you, “Hey guys, can I get any drinks started for you tonight?” He looked between you.

“I’ll have a coke.” Eddie said when you nodded at him to go first.

“Uh, me too.” You agree before the server hurries away.

“So… you think he’s cute?” Eddie winks at you as he shrugs off his jacket and then slides a menu to you.

“You jealous?” You chuckle and go to flip the menu over to view the entrees when he lays his hand on it to keep it flat.

“Absolutely.” He said easily, leaning forward, “Don’t tell me you have a thing for waiters.” He rolled his eyes with a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

You blush and shake your head no.

“Good, cause we’re gonna see a few tonight, and I’m not prepared to take a loss like that just yet.” You shoot him a questioning look just as he taps the appetizers, “This is the section you need to pay attention to—I want you to pick one for us.”

You glance down to the section of options and back up at him, his gaze set on you with gentle intensity that has you smiling and nodding. “Okay.”

You try to relax as you scan the menu with his eyes on you, fighting the smile on your face and feeling like that pathetic thirteen year old you turned into when you first met, the words not having any meaning as you read each dish and the description.

Last time, it was the possibility of Eddie watching you read the menu and having to decide in a timely manner, that made your mind blank, and then it was his proximity as your waiter that drove you stupid, not to mention the circumstances surrounding your anxiety now.

Eddie’s knee bounced eagerly, his chain lightly jingling every so often. He twisted his ring and smiled when he caught your eyes flickering up from the table to his hands and back down again. His grin spreads and you notice, sinking in your seat and nonchalantly lifting the menu to form a wall between you and his face, the measure actually helping your ability to focus a bit.

“Aww, c’mon now, sweetheart,” he tapped at your menu shield and peeked over, “—you told me no shy stuff.” He chided and snickered as you lower your menu with a playful scowl.

“It’s not my fault I lose my ability to read when I’m nervous.” You weakly chuckle and shove your hands under your thighs, dipping your vision back to the menu, spotting the words ‘chips and’ and then ‘fried’ when he tapped the table next to the menu again.

“Oh, shit, I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking— do you wanna g—“

“No!” You cut him off, finding his eyes soft and full of concern for you. “No, I’m okay.” You nod assuringly.

“Well, you… want some help?” He shrugs.

You cock your head but before you can ask he explains, “I could read them off to you and you tell me what sounds best! Half of my job is helping people pick, anyway.” He said as he picked up your menu and acted like he was straightening out a newspaper.

“R-Really?” You ask.

He nods as if anyone would think to do that for you—you hadn’t even thought of it.

“So we got chips, queso, guac, wings?” He looked at you like he’d cracked the code, but you scrunched your nose and shook your head. “—that’s okay— cheese fries, fried mozzarella—“

“—Cheese fries?” You ask.

“Yeah? You like bacon on them?” He asked brightly.

You nod, “And jalapeños, too.”

“Oof, so you like it spicy.” He said observantly, another blush painting your cheeks before he nodded at the approaching waiter and gathered the menus.

“Have we decided?” The guy asked after he set down your drinks, looking at you again.

Eddie answered, “Yeah! We’ll take a large order of cheese fries with bacon and jalapeños.” He handed the menus back and smiled at you simply while the waiter went back to the kitchen.

“So, how did that assignment turn out? That summer camp booklet thing.” He asks with a sparkle of interest in his eyes.

“The brochure?” You giggle, your cheeks heating as your heart swells at the thought of him asking about it.

You’d mentioned it one night when he FaceTimed you. He was outside on his balcony, his torso bare and covered with ink you hoped to inspect sometime soon. You noted where his shoulders dimpled and the way the city lights reflected in his eyes and hoped one day you could join him on that very same balcony, having the same kinds of talks about everything and nothing.

He nodded as he sipped and replaced his drink back on the coaster, “Yeah! Did you end up liking it? Was it what you wanted it to be?” He asked.

You smile and nod and take out your phone to show him the video you took of the finished product, an actual, cohesive, design that captured the vibes you’d felt when you’d initially received the assignment. The book was beautiful, in your opinion, and Eddie seemed to think so too as you told him about when you saw it printed and stapled you felt all giddy and lame.

“That’s not lame though, you’re proud of your work! I know I am! I remember you showed me when it was just the template and the color picker— it looks so good! Y’know I used to be fine with never going to summer camp, but now I’m jealous!”

You let out a hearty laugh and set your phone to the side along with his, “Eddie it’s not a real summer camp, I just made it up.”

“Oh.” He chuckles with a blush, “Well, you convinced me! The vintage kinda look you gave it feels very… authentic.” He nodded as he decided his final word, his assessment making your heart soar.

“Thank you, I got an A, so I guess my teacher agrees.” You shrug bashfully. “But what about you? How’s that song coming?” You ask before unwrapping a straw and plunging it in your drink.

Eddie smiles the same way you had when he asked about your project, “It’s getting there!” He said humbly, in a way that made you know he made great progress on it despite his words, “—inspiration struck fairly recently, you could say.”

You nod, “That’s great! What’s it about, again?” You ask, wondering if he’ll give you the run around again like when he’d first mentioned it.

“Well, i-it’s about a lot of stuff,” he nods, fiddling with his own straw but not yet tearing the paper off. “Like, where I come from and where I’m at and where I see myself going—what I’m looking forward to the most… etcetera etcetera.” He nodded thoughtfully.

You smile with him, “That sounds beautiful. I’d love to hear it when it’s finished.”

“Oh, I plan on you being the first to hear it.” He said with wide eyes that filled you with anticipation.

“Well I must be something special.” You tease softly.

He nods, “You must be.” He bites the inside of his lip to contain his smile, feeling like an idiot when he felt his heart speed up merely at the way you looked at him. Your eyes round and set on him like he was a dream. Your shoulders wanted to curl in on yourself, your shyness was lingering but you were peeking out from behind the curtain. And he loved what he saw.

You were smart, and despite your struggles with anxiety, you had a lot to say. He was determined to hear all of it, especially if it came out of your smiling mouth. He loved that you were figuring out how to play with him, but didn’t make it feel like a game. Eddie was used to flirty banter but nothing that made him feel like the way it felt with you.

Your shy nature really topped it off for him, your tentativeness making it that much more fun to mess with you.

He’d never forget the way you sounded on the phone when he called for the first time. Your trembling sighs were full of nerves, the phone picking up soft chuckles, and a shy lilt to your voice that clenched his heart to the point it ached.

You’d come quite a ways since then, though part of him hoped you’d always be a little shy.

The waiter brought over your heaping basket, mozzarella, sharp cheddar, Colby Jack, and American cheese all melted on the top of the extra crispy fries.

Eddie’s eyes were bright as he beheld the food, and then looked up to find you unfurling your napkin and silverware, your bottom lip in your teeth as you spear your fork into a measly section to pull onto your tiny plate.

“Oh, I should’ve known you’d be one of those.” He teased as he pulled a fry from the top, the cheese stretching an impressive distance before snapping.

“What??” You ask, welcoming his banter with pink cheeks you suspected wouldn’t be leaving any time soon.

“Don’t tell me you eat fries with a fork.” He deadpanned and took a bite.

“I don’t, but when I’m sharing an appetizer with someone I try to be polite.” You jab your fork into another helping to plop onto your plate. “Thought that’s something you liked about me.” You quip before cutting into the cheese fries and sticking a bite in your mouth, your lips sliding off the fork as you hold eye contact with him.

You barely notice how his gaze dips to your mouth, how he swallows before he smiles and speaks again, “I do. There’s a lot of things I like about you.”

You shake your head as you chew and swallow, “That was an easy one.”

“What??” He asked as he grabs another clump of fries, carefully stacking a jalapeño on top and biting into it.

“You and your lines.” You roll your eyes.

He smiles though he puts a hand to his chest in offense, “You think I have lines??” He asked.

“How can you not? You always know what to say, how to… I dunno… stun me?” You shrug at your loss of words.

Eddie almost cackles and wipes his mouth with a napkin, “Stun you??”

“You know what I mean!” You take a bite, taking care to get the perfect amount of bacon and jalapeño on top before taking a large bite that made Eddie a little proud. You chew and appraise him as he does you, strong jaw working and his eyes waiting for your next sentence. “I just feel like you’re too smooth for it to be real, y’know—I keep thinking this is going to turn out to be one big joke.” You chuckle weakly and shrug.

Eddie deflated a little and reached his hand across the table, resting on top of yours that held your fork. “Sweetheart,” he sighed and you felt a pang of guilt swim around in your chest when you saw the hurt in his eyes, “I… I know what that’s like. Believe me, it’s—“ he sighed again, “—I can’t ever stop thinking about you.” He squeezes your hand. “I’m not used to a girl doing that to me, taking over my every thought.” He chuckled in disbelief, “I like you. A lot.” He assures with a nod and you mirror it, feeling bad he had to do this already.

“I’m sorry.” You drop your fork and wrap your fingers around his. He shakes his head, as if it were no bother. “I…” you take a deep inhale and slowly let it out as you talk, “—kinda have trust issues, if you couldn’t already tell.” You avoid eye contact until you hear his chuckle.

“I get it, I really do.” He nods before meeting her eye again, “But my interest in you has nothing to do with a joke and everything to do with the fact you’re interesting. And sweet. And cute. And smart— I honestly have no idea what you’re doing out with me.” He said it as if he believed it and took a bite.

You shake your head, “You’re so full of it.” You chuckle and prepare to take another bite, though the smile on your face told Eddie you were flattered and ready for more back and forth.

“It’s true! You know how many people see me coming and cross the street to avoid me?” He seemed pleased with himself and with the face you made, genuinely confused. “—Cause I look mean and scary.”

Your eyes widen, “Oh! Well, I don’t think you’re scary cause you’re mean.”

“You think I’m scary?”

“I think you’re scary cause you’re so… pretty—I mean handsome!”

Eddie lets out a laugh so hearty it turned a couple heads, but all you did was blush and smile at the reaction you were able to pull from him.

“You’re too cute—wow.” He grabs a clump of fries and takes a bite through his lingering smile. “So you wouldn’t cross the street if you saw me coming? Shy little thing like you?”

You shook your head, “Would you cross if you saw me coming?”

“If I’m across the street on 8th and caught a glimpse of you walking down 7th, I’m jay-running to come introduce myself.” He said without missing a beat, “I’d change direction just to walk with you.”

“You really can’t help it,” You laugh melodically, full and with your belly, your eyes practically closed in your amusement.

“When it comes to you? Not a bit.” He smirked as you collected yourself with a deep breath and continued eating.

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“No way. I don’t believe you!” You chuckle madly as he nods.

“Oh, but, I did, I read every bit of it— and from the sound of it, you did too.” He looked at you with his bashful grin as you nodded quickly.

“Look at me and tell me it isn’t obvious that I’m a TwiHard.” You say pointing to your face.

The conversation had turned to reading, Eddie asking about your reading goal for the year you’d set yourself and balking when you said you were on book twelve in the month of May, and then reminiscing on his days as a bookworm when people were waiting in line for the newest additions to the Twilight Saga.

“I guess there’s only one thing I need to ask.” He said as he leaned forward. “Team Edward or Jacob? You should know that there is a correct answer, and if you respond Team Jacob I’ll l have to La Push you into traffic.”

“Of course I’m Team Edward! Jacob can keep his idealized version of Bella and shove it—“

“—La Push.” Eddie teased.

“My mistake.” You chuckle and take another bite. “So did you read them or watch them first?”

“Oh, I read them.” He urged and shook his head at his past self, “I wanted to be a Cullen so bad.” He scoffed and smiled when you nodded in agreement.

“Who’s your favorite?” You ask.

“Hmm… back in the day I’d say Edward. But now I think my real favorite is Carlisle.”

You look impressed with his answer and nod for him to elaborate, “I didn’t have the finest of upbringings.” He cleared his throat, preparing to be vulnerable. To let himself be known. “My brother and I didn’t meet til we were teens—his mom and my mom didn’t get along because of the old man, but we both landed at our Uncle’s house around the same time and—“ he shook his head feeling way off topic, “I like the found family thing. You know? The people that don’t have to love you but still do anyways.” He chuckled.

When he looked up at you, he found your eyes soft and your hand reaching out for his again. The feeling of your hand in his was becoming familiar and he liked that he knew how you’d fit together.

“And you found yours?” You ask.

He nodded warmly, “Yeah. I did. I count Dak as found family since I haven’t always had him, y’know, sometimes it still doesn’t feel real that we’re brothers and not just friends. But brothers aren’t exactly supposed to show up on your doorstep one day and never leave, right?” He chuckles at himself and you give him a weak smile as you wonder what else you’ll learn about him.

“Do you have any siblings?” He asks.

You shake your head. “No. It was just me and mom, mostly.” You say almost tensely. “Things were… a lot different between us back then. It was hard living with her without my dad.“ you nod and your eyes flicker up to his, finding his gaze on yours, his lingering smile gone for the first time. “Reading helped. Still does.” You smile.

Eddie’s smile came back at the sight of yours and he nodded, “Agreed. Though I must say, I can’t find anything I wanna devour the way I consumed the hunger games trilogy—“

“Oh my god, yes!” You hastily agree and lean forward.

“I wasn’t that big of a fan of Gale.” Eddie sighed in thought as he sat back.

“What do you mean?! He kept her family alive while she was gone at both games, despite the mixed signals she was always sending him.” You explained and he shrugged.

“Mockingjay really showed their differences, though. They were each others first love, y’know? Best friends, most importantly. But he wanted her to be something she wasn’t. He became more desensitized to the violence and Katniss needed… I dunno… a softness, and m’boy Peeta knew exactly what she needed. Til he was hijacked.” He rolled his eyes and took a sip from his now empty drink.

You bite the inside of your lip as you come to realize you agree with him. “Okay. You got me. Katniss is softer than she lets on.”

“Kinda like how you’re braver than you let on.” He winks at you and you blush down at the empty basket. A waitress drops the check by the table, which Eddie quickly swipes up and places his money inside.

“C’mon, cutie,” he stands and hold out his hand, which you take without hesitance. “Time for the main course.”

You happily take his hand and follow him out the door, wondering if he would always wanna hold your hands so firmly in his. His grip reminded you of the way your mom held your hand in the stores as a child, like he’s afraid to lose you in the crowd.

You’re appraising him in the car as he fiddles with the radio, connecting his phone and playing a song you sent him a week ago. “Now you’re just trying to get brownie points.” You roll your eyes even though you blush.

“What? It’s a good song! Much like you, it’s been stuck in my head since I first heard it.”

“Have you always been like this?” You ask.

Eddie looks taken aback by your wording, “Like what?” He looks over at you incredulously, thought you can’t tell if he’s being serious or not.

“Charismatic and laid back and outgoing and, and, and!” You shrug and he scoffs. “I just wanna know if it’s a god given gift or if there’s hope for me, cause damn. You could charm the socks off anyone.” You shake your head and look out the windshield.

He chuckles and turns the wheel, getting settled in the new direction and lane of traffic before answering, “Just the socks?” He smirks over at you and you roll your eyes for the hundredth time and blush for the thousandth.

“Honestly, Eddie, I’ll la push myself out of this car if you don’t stop doing that.” You pry your eyes away from him and cross your arms though the playful smile lingered at the corners of your mouth. You loved it though it was growing immensely aggravating.

“Aw, c’mon, sweetheart, look at me.” He pleaded with a sorry tone, one you’d give a child in a sour mood. You didn’t comply, choosing to watch the traffic lights instead.

Your silence is ringing louder than a gong in Eddie’s ears as he drives, and before he knows it, he’s pulling over onto the shoulder and turning on his hazards, “What’s going on?” You ask, looking over at the gages on the dash for a check engine light or something. When you find his eyes on you, you flinch back in confusion.

“Now that I have your attention.” He smiled. You can’t help your grin as you swat at his shoulder and he turns to you. “I was the town pariah until I left at 21.” He sighed, his eyes looking more and more puppylike the longer he spoke, his eyes darting away like yours had the day you met. “You know how it is—small town America, everyone hated me for the music and stuff I liked and how I dressed, it’s dumb. Me being me caused a lot of trouble. And I had to learn to overcome their bullshit or let it get the best of me, which it didn’t.” He nodded assuringly. “I made great friends there. Most of them are here with me in the city, now. College and all. But I really found myself when I left Hawkins. When I figured out the world really was so much bigger. And that the people at home are the real weirdos, not me.” He scoffed and you nodded in agreement.

“Point is.” He sighed. “It’s a coping mechanism—my charm.” He shrugged, looking at you from behind the mask, his smile weak and eyes looking almost sad. “I’m sorry, if I come on too strong—“

“No! No.” You shake your head. “You’re great, Eddie.” You assure and your heart swells with his smile, “I’m so glad you shared that with me.” You accidentally rasp as you try to be quiet, “I know what it’s like to not belong… I wish I could’ve seen you back then.” You chuckle.

“Oh you would’ve hated me.” He rolled his eyes. “Couldn’t keep my mouth shut.” He tsked.

“Oh I can’t imagine that!” You tease and lean closer as you grab his hand and he smiles down at it.

“I’ve never been so nervous about someone.” He admitted as he flickered his gaze up to your eye just for a moment before looking back down at your intertwined hands. “No one’s ever treated me like such a big deal before. Or wanted to know me the ways you do.” He smiles up at you again before kissing your hand. “With you it’s like I wanna…. keep being the cool guy, y’know?”

“Eddie, you can’t actually be saying you’re nervous… because of me.” You shake your head, “It’s me, remember? Chicken fingers?” You shake your joined hands to jostle him like a friend getting a pep talk. “Y’know I don’t just swallow my tongue for anybody, you must really be something special! Plus have you looked at yourself lately? It’s intimidating how hot you are!”

He rolls his eyes, “Can I take my girl out to eat now? Or are you gonna ignore me again when I flirt with you?” He asks.

The term strikes somewhere eager in your chest, your eyes flying to his as he turns his blinker on to merge onto the road, “Mhm.” Is all you’re able to manage as he grins in satisfaction and takes his opportunity to join the flow of traffic, all without dropping your hand.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The walk through the parking lot was quiet but the silence was warm. Eddie had brought you to a place called ‘Black Barn Reserve’ and from the outside, it looked very rustic and cozy. The dining area was dim, candles illuminating the tables, and a large bonfire at the front of the open room, the large glass doors swung open to the outside for more areas to eat and lounge.

“You ever been here before?” He asked, his eyes taking in the scene and looking for a familiar face.

“Oh, gosh, no— I’ve heard of it though. It’s beautiful! I wanna curl up and read over there.” You point to an over stuffed armchair in the corner, adjacent to the bonfire.

Eddie smiles at the mental picture of you curled up with a book and a blanket next to a roaring fire, until he spots the familiar head of hair he’d been searching for. “Steve!” He stuck his hand up in greeting as Steve pushed through the crowd, shoving his order book into his apron as he approached.

“Its so good to see you!” The guy pulled Eddie in for a quick hug, and released him before looking over at you, “And you! Eddie has told us so much about you—“

“S’enough of that Steve,” He turns to you with a smile and introduces you by name.

“Steve Harrington— Eddie’s best friend.” The guy smiled and shook your hand before looking to Eddie, “It’s all set up for you.” He released your hand and patted Eddie on the back before darting off in the direction of a set of booths.

Eddie smiled at you bashfully and took your hand, leading you through the room to a secluded corner by a bay of windows. The booth was small and round, three candles at the center of the table smelling like warm and spicy herbs.

“I used to work here, with Steve.” He chuckled as you sat and began scooting to the other side, finding him following close by and capturing your hand under his. “That’s far enough, sweet thing, come closer.” He teased. You oblige him and scoot so close your leg almost pressed against his.

“Comfy?” He asked, placing his hand on your knee. You smile and nod, opening the menu with few options and tiny writing.

“I thought you had to have a reservation to get into this place.” You smile and look up at the ornate ceiling, the chandeliers barely glowing with light.

“Uh, usually you have to! I just got lucky that Harrington still works here and the shift manager still likes me.” He shrugged, looking down at the menu before looking over at you with a smile. “I’ve always liked this spot the most. Thought it was the best seat in the house.”

“Why is that?”

“Cause you get to enjoy every part of the place sitting right here. Bonfire,” he gestures to the fire a few feet away just outside, “People watching,” he motioned to the loaded dining room before you. “Plus the food is fantastic.”

“I’ve heard!” You chirp, trying to make out the font and find the word ‘entree’. Eddie’s finger comes into view when he points it out.

“The menu changes every night, so you can choose from the steak, pasta, or soup.” He drapes his arm on the booth behind you, looking off your menu instead of picking up his own.

You sigh in relief, nodding and automatically deciding you wanted the pasta. “You mean they don’t have chicken fingers?” You ask casually.

Eddie chuckles through his nose and leans closer. “If the pasta sucks, I’ll personally get you your chicken tenders.” He squeezes your knee before stroking the round of it with his thumb and draping his other arm around you.

“How’d you know I wanted pasta?” You ask.

Eddie freezes before his smile blooms, “Oh, uh, well, I remember your mom saying you liked that pasta—the first time you came to the restaurant.” You cover his hand with yours, brushing against his rings with careful fingers.

“I think it’s really sweet you thought of that.” You giggle, lighting up his world, “And for the record, I wanted that pasta. I just said chicken fingers because it’s all I could remember.” You put your face in your hand.

“No!” Eddie tsked, “so you don’t like chicken fingers?? Is that why you didn’t eat them??”

“No, I do! Just couldn’t eat them when my stomach was in knots.” You laugh it off and find Eddie’s smile waning.

“Is it-is it always like that?” He asked gently, “Your….?”

“Anxiety? Yeah.” You chuckle as the waitress approaches, a black dress and pearls around her neck like the rest of the female presenting employees. Her French twist was elegantly loose, and her lips were the perfect shade of mauve.

“Good evening, my name is— Eddie?” She questioned.

Eddie’s eyes fell away from yours and met hers with what seemed to be hesitance. “Monica! Hey! I didn’t know you were working here again.” He said tensely, making no move to stand like she seemed to think he would.

“I just started back about two weeks ago!” She informed him as cheerfully as she could before directing her attention to you, “I’m Monica, Eddie’s friend,”

“—old friend.” He clipped.

“Old friend.” She added, her eyes looking you over.

“This is my date, Y/n.” He put his arm around you, looking back to you, “Monica and I used to work together.”

“You could say that.�� She scoffs, looking down at her leather bound book, “Can I get you some—“

“Two cokes, please.” You cut her off to get her out of the way, feeling quite shitty about it until she walked away and Eddie relaxed. You hadn’t noticed how rigid he’d grown when Monica arrived, the hundreds of questions swirling through your mind like an endless loop-de-loop.

You swallow before you meet his weary eye, flashing a closed mouth smile that was supposed to be encouraging, but for Eddie it hit him deep in the chest, like he’d already fucked up.

“Monica and I didn’t date.” He blurted.

You nod, the sentiment settling in. “I get it.”

“If I’d known she was working here again, I wouldn’t have brought you here, I’m so sorry.” He held your hand in both of his, “It wasn’t even a thing y’know, but she wasn’t… exactly… interested in me so I made a clean break and she…” he blew out a breath, “—was not happy.”

You nod again, the tension releasing in your chest. “Do you want to leave?” You ask, ready to give him an out and continue this date somewhere else.

“No, absolutely not.” He chuckled. “I’ve been wanting to bring someone special here for a while. Not gonna let anything ruin it.”

You smile and nod, happy to be wherever he is. Your eyes close in bliss when he leans forward to plant a kiss on your forehead, as another waiter brings your drinks and asks to take your order.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“That was literally the best pasta I’ve ever had in my life.” You groan in satisfaction as you leave the restaurant under Eddie’s arm, leftovers in the other hand.

“And now my question is, are you ready for dessert?” He asked with a glimmer in his eye, “too full?”

You shake your head, “Uh-uh, desserts the best part!” You insist, ducking into the car.

“Good. Cause the next stop is my favorite place to eat, like ever.” He smiled over at you and started the car, handing you his phone and the aux cord. “Play me something good, DJ.”

You racked your brain, searching for something he’d like, something that would impress him. You decide to go to your messages and play the song he sent you the most recently. “What?” He croons in disappointment as he joins the night traffic.

“What?” You chuckle.

“I said play me something good, not play me my music I listen to every day! Put on something you like.” He urged. “Let me in that pretty little cranium of yours.”

You bite your lip and nod, “You like the Warning?” You ask tentatively as you search them up.

Eddie shook his head, “I haven’t heard of them.”

“Well we’re gonna fix that.” You smile as the beginning of ERROR fills the speakers.

Eddies face lights up, when he hears the thudding bass lead the drums in. “Oh, shit! Okay!” He bobs his head to the beat, “I like it!” He says with a look on his face that shows you he’s impressed. “You’re gonna have to play DJ more often!”

You blush at the idea of being with him often.

You hoped you would be at least. And something in your heart to you, you would be.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Eddie…”

“Mhm…”

“Why are we parked in front of Chili’s?”

“Because! I have a to-go order.” He smiled, unbuckling his seatbelt. “Sit tight, I’ll be back.”

You nod as he steps out of the car and bounds up the sidewalk to the door where he’d shown you his ‘hiding place’ the day you’d come back for him. Your heart beat madly in your chest, the first moment you’d had alone since the start of the date and you finally realize how out of breath you are.

Over nothing.

You take a few steadying breaths and press your hands to your hot face, the bitter sting of your cold skin bringing you back down to earth a little bit. He’d been practically perfect— the whole date was. You didn’t want it to end, to live in this warm, giddy feeling forever.

You check your makeup and are pleasantly surprised when you see it hasn’t budged or caked or creased, with the exception of your lipstick worn off from eating and drinking. As you spot the familiar bouncing strides turning the corner you slap the mirror shut and busy yourself queuing music on your phone.

The lights come on when he pops open the door and he smiles as he hands you a to-go bag containing a single box. “Miss me?” He asked with the playful smile you were growing fond of.

“Of course.” You chuckle and look at the bag, unsure if you should open it or not.

Eddie shuts the door and settles in his seat and turns to you with a smile, as if he were taking you in after a long trip.

“What?” You giggle.

He shakes his head, “Nothing. Just looking pretty kissable over there.” He smirks and put his hand on your knee, stroking in soft circles before glancing up at you again.

You smile and huff a gentle laugh before leaning forward and letting him kiss your lips, the energy bordering between chaste and something eager. You wanna deepen the kiss, tempted to put your hands on his face, through his hair, however you could keep him close— but he pulls away.

“Good girl.” He purrs and you stifle a gasp by clearing your throat and smiling. He nods at the bag. “Open it up for us.”

You unwrap it from the plastic bag and pop open the styrofoam shell to find a chocolate lava cake, a scoop of vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce drizzled across the top, and two silver spoons. You couldn’t help but notice the heart swirled in the chocolate on the bottom of the container and blushed madly as you look back up at him.

“You didn’t take a single bite—when you came with your mom. I even made sure you had a spoon in case you changed your mind and you didn’t! But… now that I know you a little better now… I assume you weren’t up to eating at the time. And everyone loves lava cake so…” he trails off as he purses his lips to the side.

You bite the inside of your smile and shake your head at him. “You’re—“ you try to find the words. Unbelievable? Amazing? Perfect? A dream come true?

He seems to realize your struggle and holds up a spoonful of cake and ice cream. “It’s still warm.” He whispers.

You take a bite and try to ignore the lump in your throat as you chew and swallow, or the tears prickling at your eyes at his tenderness. You loved how he made you feel and hated to think this could all be a trap. That he could give you this kind of love and take it away as soon as he grew bored.

And it made you feel so pathetic and weak and even a little naive all over again.

A tear slides down your cheek and he turns you by the chin to face him. “What’s wrong?” He says just above a whisper.

You meet his eye and wipe your face with a shaking head, “Literally.. nothing. I just—wow, I’m so sorry—“ you smile and sniffle and shake your head at yourself as you wipe your eyes, “—no one’s ever made such a big deal out of me. Not like this. Or—paid attention to me in the ways you do.” You shake your head. “I feel pathetic around so many people because my brain can’t handle life happening. I’m frazzled and scatterbrained and painfully shy, and I constantly feel like.. like a burden. Like it’s asking too much to be understood, Y’know?” You sniffle again as more tears fall.

Eddie nods and holds your hand and wills you to finish. His strong girl.

His brave girl.

“So, thank you.” You shrug. “Even if it doesn’t last I’ll always remember this.” You say candidly.

Eddie caresses your cheek and you lean into his touch, “Where have you been, sweetheart?” Is all he can ask. You scrunch your brows together in confusion and he leans in to kiss you again. Your lips are cold against his, tasting temptingly sweet, but he keeps this kiss innocent before pulling back and wiping away your tear with his thumb.

“I’m not going anywhere. Not until you tell me to fuck off.” He said with only a hint of playfulness in his soft tone. You scan his face to find a sign that he was just speaking empty words but his eyes— his deep amber irises soft with the warmth of the sentiment he spoke between you.

You sigh and nod profusely, unable to string the words fighting at the forefront of your mind to be placed together properly, to form a sentence that articulated exactly how full and wonderful he made you feel. Instead, you lean for ward and kiss him, a hand resting on his stubbled cheek.

Eddie chuckles against your lips and you feel his smile as he moves. You break the kiss and you linger so closely your noses brush. He takes it upon himself to nuzzle his nose against yours and you let out a giggle.

You pick up the other spoon and scoop a bite to hold up for him. He chuckles and takes the bite, his eyes on yours in the dim car light.

The intro to Fade Into You by Mazzy Star comes on, and your eyes dart to his to lock in an eager gaze, “I love this song!” You both say at the same time.

You can help but share a laugh before Eddie serves you another bite, “We should’ve been doing this all night, how romantic.” He teased, though he meant it.

You blush and roll your eyes before you hold up your spoonful to his lips, and as he takes a bite, you pull it away and eat it yourself with a smile.

“Ohhh! Is that how it’s gonna be, now? We were having a moment!” He chided with an amused smile. You swallow and serve him an extra big helping to make up for it, which he’s happy to accept.

“You are forgiven.” He says through a mouthful and smiles as he scoops a bite of ice cream into the spoon and holds it up, offering it just in front of his mouth.

You lean in with closed eyes and a gaping mouth, only to feel his lips slot against yours sensually. Warm and firm and languid, the heat both physical and energetic, the passion rippling between you.

You thought back to that movie Pretty in Pink, when Iona talked about Duckie’s kiss setting her thighs on fire— that’s exactly what this felt like. The fire consumed you, licking up your legs and hips, his daring little nip at your lip rendering you utterly thoughtless until he lifted the haze like a blanket, pulling back from the kiss just as you really needed it most.

“Now, we’re even.” He winks.

“Oh, no, we are not.” You say through a scoff.

Eddie’s eyes light up at the challenge, “You took a bite, so did I.” He shrugged.

You cross your legs and shift your hips slightly, your jaw clenched and your eyes narrowed at him and his antics. Luckily, Eddie knew exactly what all of those things meant. He placed his hand on your knee and stroked in an agonizingly slow circle. “Isn’t that fair?” He asks.

Your brain begins churning into mush as he looks at you in the way he did the first time you saw him, like you’re the most interesting person on the planet—the sexiest most interesting person on the planet. And you only just now realized.

You smile in a way he hadn’t seen before as you looked him over, “Absolutely not, you practically, freakin’ mouth fucked me!” You accuse with a smile of disbelief.

Eddie’s jaw drops as he laughs, “What?!”

“You heard me!” You giggle, “You’re just gonna juice my brain and pretend it was no big deal like I’m not gonna have to take two days to recover.” You push his shoulder playfully as he keeps laughing.

“Oh my god, you’re- you’re—“ he shakes his head at her, and instead of finding a word, he brings her in for one more brain juicing kiss.

It was hot and slow, it had you whimpering without any care or notice and arching your back into him despite the console between you, his tongue moving against yours and his teeth nipping at your lip every once in a while to make you moan for him, hoping he’d soon find out how to play other parts of your body to create louder sounds.

When the kiss finally broke, Eddie pushed your hair behind your ear and smiled at you. “I wanna ask you—properly— if you’d… be my girlfriend. A-And we can get together like this whenever we can, Y’know? I kinda like how we have the same crazy schedules. And you’re good at phone tag! You make it fun.” He smiles and swipes his thumb over your cheekbone. “You make my days exciting again, you know that? He admitted. “I’ve never liked phone calls—ever! But every time you call, I wanna drop my whole life to speak to you.”

You nod, but in a way that tells him you share the feeling because of him.

“Y’know other girls, they like the whole ‘bad boy thing’ I have going on and think I’m good for a fun night and a motorcycle ride, but none of them wanna deal with my hours, or my life. They’re not actually interested in me, you know? And here you are.” He nudges your nose with his. “Wanting to know my deep dark secrets and my favorite color.”

“Favorite colors aren’t deep dark secrets! And it’s not a secret if you wear it exclusively.” You give him a pointed look and he chuckles.

“Like my own pocket sized comedian, I swear.” He holds your face in both of his hands like a child having cute aggression and shakes his head with an affectionate smile.

“What do you say, chicken fingers? Feel like bein my girlfriend?” He asks.

You smirk playfully and shrug, “I may have to take a couple days to think about it, y’know? Had a great time though.” You try to stay serious, but the second he looks fearful and the gooey tenderness leaves his eyes, you’re shaking your head, “I’m just kidding! Just kidding, I’d love to be your girlfriend—are you kidding me?” You scoff.

Eddie barely has time to smile before you’re kissing him again, his laughter a mere mumble against you before it’s snuffed out by your kiss, his lips melting against yours.

As he’s running his fingers over your hair and relishing the feeling of your soft lips against his, he can’t help but wonder what date you’ll go on next, before this one’s even over.

You pull away, “Do you, uh—“ you shake your head at yourself.

Eddie nods at you, hoping he knows what you’re gonna ask him. “Go on, brave girl.” He whispers, keeping you close.

You blush and look down, “Uh, do you wanna—maybe, take me—“

“What, you want me to take you home, now?” He asked, quieter than before.

You freeze and bite your lip bashfully, “Or… home with you?” You meet his eye before darting away and chuckling at yourself, “I’m sorry, too much? It was too much—“ you don’t get a chance to ramble on before he turns your face back to his.

He’s got a cocky, pleased smile on his lips when he says, “I will happily take you to mine. Or yours if that’s what you want.” He looks you up and down for any signs of hesitation.

You nod, “Yeah, yeah, wherever you want. Just not… ready for this night to end.” You chuckle nervously.

Eddie beams at that and scoops up another spoonful, “One more bite and I’m taking my girl home. We can finish this later,” He smiles as you take a bite, “Late night snack, maybe?” He whispered in your ear as you chewed, and smiled when your eyes went wide and your skin burned pink.

“Where-where are we gonna—?” You ask, closing the container and putting it back in the bag.

“I’m taking my girl back to my apartment,” he said as he shifted the car into reverse, “—spending the rest of the night with a movie on the tv and my lips on yours.” He smiles over at you. “How’s that sound?” He takes your hand in his and kisses it as he slows to a stop at a red light.

“…Will you take me out on the balcony?” You ask shyly. His eyes widen and he balks, your brain needing a second to catch up, “Wait, no that’s not—“

“Too late, baby, it’s already out there—and the answer is yes, absolutely—anything you wanna do on my balcony, consider it done.” He says as he eases forward with the flow of traffic and you bury your face in your hands and giggle madly.

You peek open your eyes to see Eddie still smiling at the road ahead, turning into a parking garage. He held his lip between his teeth, carefully maneuvering into his reserved spot and looking over at you eagerly as he threw it in park and turned it off. “You ready? Sure you don’t want me to take you home?”

You nod, “Mhm, I’m sure.”

He nods back at you and opens his door, “Sit tight.” He says before shutting it and walking around to open your door for you.

“Oh, special treatment?” You ask as he helps you out.

“Oh, yeah, being my girl has its perks.” He pulls you up and wraps an arm around your waist before leading you to the elevator. He slides his hand across your back and grips your elbow before grazing down your arm to lace his fingers in yours.

You catch the doors going up with one of Eddie’s neighbors, an older woman named Nadine that wore an ornate silk scarf on her head, giving a warm toothy grin as she greeted you both. Eddie eagerly introduced you as his girlfriend, the woman shaking your hand with a warm pat before joking about Eddie’s appetite.

After she’d disappeared behind a red chipped door, Eddie fumbled with his keys as he explained, “Miss Nadine makes amazing dumplings and noodles, she’s always giving me leftovers since her husband passed away.” You watch her door as he unlocks his own, “He was great too.” He adds as the door opens and thuds the wall lightly.

“Home sweet home.” He says as he closes it behind you and you scan the area. “—sorry if stuffs a little…” he says as he snatches up some food wrappers and dirty cups. You giggle and spot the place on the counter where all the mail was dropped and torn open, Amazon boxes and shoes piled by the door.

Movie and band posters hung on the walls, along with some personal pictures that dotted the spaces here and there. “It’s okay, I like it. Clean houses can feel… sterile. Y’know? You live here, it’s supposed to look like it.” You chuckle as he successfully clears off the island and smiles at you.

“Well don’t you know how to make a guy feel at home.”

“In your own home?”

“Yeah!” He said as if it were simple. “Y’know… you aren’t the first girl I’ve brought back here…” he takes your jacket off your shoulders, you swallow thickly, wondering just how much he was used to in the bedroom, if you could deliver the kind of intensity he’s used to, “—but I was always really nervous about… I dunno, their judgement? Y’know they’d make comments sometimes and I wanted it be nice the first time you came and I dunno, just hearing that from you…” he shrugs with an easy smile, “C’mon. My rooms over here.”

You follow him, your heart thumping it’s way deeper into your chest. He pushes open the black door and you’re hit with the smell of him. His cologne, his detergent, the stale cigarette smoke, and a hint of skunk wafting over from the open grinder on his desk. “Fuck!” He mutters before shutting it and shoving the tray it rested on into the drawer.

You giggle and look around his room, at his messy bed covered with shirts and pants and jackets, several pairs of shoes strung about the floor. “Don’t worry, I kinda figured it came with the bad boy territory.” You turn to him and watch him pick up the clothes and stuff them back into their places to clear the bed.

He smiles and takes off his jacket, laying both yours and his on his desk chair.

“Ah, so.. do you…?”

You nod slowly and his face lights up, “Well… in that case..” he turns back to his desk and roots around for a minute before producing a blunt with the end barely smoked. “Care to ‘joint’ me out on the balcony?” He asks with a wink.

You practically snort, “That was awful, but yes, I would love to.” You smile and follow him to the double doors overlooking the street and horizon. He has it between his lips and lit by the time he turns to face you and leans against the rail, becoming a part of the gorgeous city view.

You tuck a leg under you as you sit in his chair, and wait patiently as he takes a hit. He looks over at you and smiles before reaching out to hand it to you, watching as you take a small hit without coughing, “Look at you, sitting all pretty in my chair, smoking my weed.” He said admiringly.

“Like what you see?”

“A little too much.” He smiles as you hand it back. “Been wanting to bring you out here since you first asked to see the view over FaceTime.” He blushed before taking a drag. “No one ever.. cared to, uh, come out here with me before.” He shrugged.

“Really?” You ask as you look into the blackness illuminated by the lights of night, stacked buildings and neon lights outlining and dotting the distance as far as the eye could see. “It’s like… a giant Christmas light show.” You mumble as he hands it back and you finally look at him.

“Think you could get used to it?” He asked.

You smile at him and his hopeful eyes, his knee bouncing with his nerves. “No.” You shake your head. He freezes for a second before you speak again, “It’s too pretty to get used to. I swear I just keep finding things to look at.” You shake your head in disbelief and then look back over at his smile set on you.

“I know exactly how that feels.” He whispered before squatting down to your level and stroking your cheekbone as you take one more hit.

“Do you?” You ask, turning the joint around and sliding it between his lips. He smiles at the intimacy and takes a drag as he nods.

“Mhm,” he says and exhales through his nose, “I thought this was beautiful, but now I got you out here and it’s just…” he shakes his head and you lean into his palm as his fingers find your hair, “You make it breathtaking.” He whispers, his eyes heavy with warmth and admiration.

You scoff and blush before looking away at the scenery, but a ringed hand turns you to face him by your chin, and he kisses you deeply, a warm palm on your cheek. It’s firm and deep as you move together, lustfully slow.

He pulls back from the kiss to whisper, “I wanna see you out here more, yeah?” He asked, kissing you once more, “—get you your own chair and everything.” He offers as he rests his head against yours.

You smile and nod the best you could, “My very own? More perks?” You say just as quiet, the street noise below barely even noticeable in this moment together.

“Not to mention the super comfy place in my bed… yours if you want it.” He whispers.

You stare at him for a minute and grab his wrist to lift the joint to your lips as he held it, your eyes on his the whole time had him gulping. “Can I… try it out?” You ask daringly.

Eddie’s eyes go moony and glazed as he nods eagerly, “Good girl.” He says before he’s bending over and flopping you over his shoulder to rush inside and drop you on the bed. He takes no hesitation in crawling over you and showering you with kisses that have you giggling the most you ever had.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Hours later, when the moon was full and high in the sky, and both of you were well sated in your desire for one another, you laid in Eddie’s arms, in his shirt, eating from the same spoon as you finished the lava cake and kissed the stray bits of chocolate and vanilla from the corners of each others mouths.

You’re nestled between his legs, against his chest, and he ducks down into your neck to inhale deeply like he’d been dreaming of since he first caught a whiff of you and your fancy perfume. You giggle when he presses a kiss there and when you turn your attention back to the Simpson’s, he checks his phone.

Despite the notifications littering his Lock Screen, he’s marking the date below the time, knowing deep in his heart this is how he’d wanna spend it every year forever.

Or until you tell him to fuck off…

Which is never happening.

My taglist hunnies💖:

If I’m unable to tag you, please check your settings so I can!! 🫶🏻

@annikin-im-panicin @am1031 @cutiecusp @ms1oftheboys @eddie-hero-munson @navs-bhat @akiratoro420 @unfocused81 @middle-of-the-earth @episcogoth @miarosso @morgthemagpie @forksloree @heavymetalbaby @theteabrush @blubearxy @sheneedsrocknroll92 @heytherehowdyworld @softyutae @parkersroses @avalon-wolf @pedroschka @mandyjo8719 @stardustmunson @777flora @rhirojo @reidsgubbler @chausetteblanche @hellfiresmaster

#honey wrote #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x shy!reader #eddie munson modern au #modern!eddie x reader #modern!eddie munson #modern au eddie

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teambyler · 9 days

Text

New Mil*ven footage: There's a reason they get interrupted (Byler analysis)

Whoever posted this new footage said they're "not breaking up" because El is smiling?

That's presumptuous of you ;)

Source

Maybe they're not breaking up in THIS scene. Or maybe they are, and making clear that things are alright between them. It's possible to be on good terms with someone you break up with. (Shocker!) And even crack a smile while you're wishing the other the best.

One really can't conclude either way. The body language does suggest honesty between them though. (Something not seen in s4.) But that honesty could be about anything.

WHAT'S MORE IMPORTANT IS THAT WE GET THE INTERRUPTION TROPE LOL:

If you ask me, this is CONFIRMATION that not everything's sunny in Mileven land. This is not a "will they or won't they?" interruption of a kiss, because they're already a canon couple. No, this is something closer to the Pineapple Pizza Interruption scene(TM) where SOMETHING the audience is WAITING to be said is NOT said:

In s4, the GA was supposed to think Mike was going to say "I love you." (Or perhaps he was going to call it off after thinking the painting was from Will? Can't say for sure.) POINT BEING: the Interruption Trope is a writing device to tease something, only to deny it. The purpose of it is to set up an IMPORTANT conflict/tension in the story that will be resolved later.

(EDIT: After writing all this I realize that there's another time interruptions happen: AFTER a scene achieves resolution. Will and Mike had one of these in 4x4 with "It looks like it'll be up to us again." "It always is, isn't it?" and Jonathan barges in. For Mike and El, the Painting Lie still needs resolution and is almost certainly related to this conversation. So everything I say here might actually not get interrupted and is actually SAID, leading to a new phase in their relationship. I just think it's less likely because any frank discussion of the Painting Lie makes a Byler conclusion too obvious. Okay, on to the likelier theory!)

Now what is this NEW unspoken thing between Mike and El? Season 4 was all about Mike being unable to say "I love you" to El. And now he has already SAID IT. On paper -- what Milevens call "canon" -- the Mileven relationship is fine and healthy.

So why prepare the audience for a NEW development in their relationship if it's not a breakup, or at least an emotional confession of some kind that threatens the last canon development that made everything "fine"?

The Painting Lie is Chekhov's gun. If this scene is indeed early in s5 (there are very few scenes with Mike and El together in the s5 teaser, perhaps she's with Mike only at the start of the season), then there's very little time for the writers to prepare something ELSE "waiting to be said" that is NOT related to the Painting Lie.

So what is being interrupted? Is it:

Mike asking if she commissioned the painting?

El saying she didn't commission it and telling Mike she thinks Will loves him?

Mike has realized the painting was from Will and is about to confess he doesn't know how he feels about him?

One of them is initiating a breakup?

WHATEVER IT IS, the Painting Lie challenges the stability of Mileven because it was core to the Pizza Freezer Confession(TM) that was supposed to tie up Mileven in a neat bow at the end of s4. The moment the Painting Lie is mentioned, this tells the GA that not everything will stay the same between Mike, El, and Will.

By the time Mike and El get interrupted, (1) the audience has already been made to expect something to come to light between them (likely related to the Painting Lie), and (2) resolution of this plot point will not happen right away and is IMPORTANT to s5.

That's because Stranger Things follows nearly 100% of all TV/movie writing in following a three-act structure. The start of each season sets up the conflicts and character motivations that drive the rest of the season. (Just as the first episodes of s4 set up El's "problem" of feeling like she's the monster and why she went on a journey of self-discovery.)

It's hard to imagine the writers setting up Round THREE of Mike struggling to say "I love you" to El. No, what's being interrupted is the next development, which has to do with the Painting Lie and its ramifications for Mike, Will, and El.

Add to this the fact that all the teasers we're getting suggest that El is separated from Mike and most of the others for some chunk of the season. What's left unsaid between them might remain unsaid. And we know that Mike and Will are side-by-side much of this season. (As promised, Mike said they will "be a team.")

Which begs the question: WHAT is interrupted between Mike and El, and what is it setting up plot-wise? Is it something whose RESOLUTION involves multiple scenes of Mike ALONE with the boy who canonically loves him and made the painting that made him feel so wonderful? Someone who Mike confessed he REALLY missed and Hawkins "isn't the same" without him?

The conflict's GOT to have something to do with Mike's feelings for Will. It FAR surpasses any other possibility, given how much set-up there has been for it.

Another plot point for season 5: on Will's end, he still hasn't come out of the closet. Doesn't part of his "emotional arc" have to include coming out to his BEST FRIEND? This is probably set up in the first episode, also.

That, together with the interruption of Mike and El, helps prime the GA to look at every scene with Mike and Will, reading every interaction and figuring out what will happen between these 2 best friends who have never lied to each other, until now. We'll even see a flashback of when they were younger. How their relationship changes after the inevitable revelations is central to s5.

The ENTIRE SEASON will be the Interruption Trope for Mike and Will, while they confront the full danger of Vecna together. It will be "the painting tucked away in Will's backpack" times a hundred.

-teambyler

(My own theory of how Byler will culminate, in case you haven't seen it!)

#anti mileven #byler #interruption #teennsiiiooon #gay tension #will they or won't they #new footage #new bts #mike wheeler #el hopper #jane hopper #will byers #painting lie #paintinggate #platonic elmike

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bookskeepers · 30 days

Text

third time's the charm ♡ chapter five

content warnings: light, awkward, both of them don't really know how to talk to people, reader makes a tiktok reference, abs, bra mentioned, no nsfw, tsukishima might be ooc sorry lol

word count: 1,646

a/n: i am running out of gifs. also sorry if my writing feels british my internal monologue is the same voice as baldur's gate 3's narrator 💔

also sorry this took so long ? it sat in my drafts for a week holy shit

taglist: @wakashudou

previous ♡ masterlist ♡ next

Tsukishima Kei has three rules he follows when he's hooking up with someone.

1. Keep all communication to Tinder.

2. No dilly dallying.

3. Do not stay the night.

Of course, rule 2 had some exceptions -- occasionally he'd watch a movie to lead up to the act, but no more than that. He views hookups as a business transaction: get the goods and dip. Luckily, both sides (usually) benefit.

♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡*•.¸♡¸.•*♡

He hadn't intended to stay the night at all after your romp together. He meant to help you back into your underwear, maybe cuddle for a few minutes, and then leave. But with the way your head rests against his chest, and with how comfortable you look, how is he supposed to say no?

Your hair is splayed out around you, strands tickling his skin. He finds himself absentmindedly tracing patterns on your near-bare back with his fingers as he scrolls through his phone with his free hand, willing exhaustion to hit. Your dorm bed, despite being the same as literally every other dorm bed, is somehow comfier than his own. Maybe it's because he's sharing it with you, although he's not sure.

More often than once, he catches himself observing your sleeping form. Your head is on his chest, your torso turned so that your boobs are pressed against his own torso. He can feel the silky material of your bra against him, and he wonders if you're uncomfortable. It looks like the wire's digging into your skin from his vantage point. One leg overlaps his own while the other remains straight on the mattress, and the arm he can see is splayed out on his ribs. He watches as your chest rises and falls slowly, the pattern of your breathing steady in your sleep.

"You fell asleep so quickly," he mumbles out loud, impressed. Part of him thinks you're a little stupid; who would let someone they just met stay the night? And why would you fall asleep so quickly on a stranger?

Another part of him finds it endearing, though. To be instantly trusted by someone in such a vulnerable state... it's not a feeling he's used to.

None of what just happened was what he was used to.

Sex is a fickle thing, he thinks. He has his own experience with it, most of it involving smooth R&B playing in the background, the music intermingling with the sound of skin-on-skin and feminine -- and occasionally masculine -- moans. It's never been without music, and there's never been conversation when the act's actually started.

He enjoyed the conversation, though. Listening to you try to form sentences while he went down on you was erotic in its own way. Maybe it was the teasing nature of it, or the way you'd gasp and fall silent, head thrown back in pleasure, before struggling to gather your thoughts and continue.

He finds that his eyes are drifting shut despite trying to keep them open, that he's playing with something very dangerous. After all, he thinks it wouldn't be too hard to get addicted to this: laying in a twin XL-sized bed that's too small for two people with you using him as a mattress more than you're using the actual mattress. The weight of you on his body is more comfortable than he'd ever admit to anyone, and your mannerisms and personality have already been etched into his brain. You're different.

The thought snaps him out of his reverie and he physically cringes. He doesn't think you're the kind of person who'd enjoy being told, "You're not like other people." In fact, he thinks you'd probably smack him, although he doesn't know you nearly well enough to be confident in this assumption (but he's right. You would smack him, only because you take comfort in knowing there are other people who are as weird as you, if not weirder).

When his eyes open again, sunlight is streaming through the window on the far side of the room. At some point during the night, you must've gotten up to put on a shirt -- his shirt, he realizes with a jolt -- because you're no longer laying against him bare-chested, instead now clad in a loose, black tee. He fumbles around for his phone, discovering it underneath his ass. He taps on the screen a few times, watching as it lights up with a photo of him and his volleyball club from high school. The time reads 10:32am, and you're out like a light. No one ever said sex wasn't tiring, though.

His movements must be disturbing your slumber, because you shift in your sleep. One of your legs ends up fully over him while his free arm ends up trapped between your body and his. You sure know how to make yourself comfortable, he thinks.

Slowly, delicately, he extricates himself from your hold, each move calculated as not to disturb your slumber. After all, he hadn't intended to stay the night -- vague memories of the mild shock on your face after you asked makes him think you hadn't originally intended to ask, either.

He pulls his pants on before remembering that there's a bit of a dilemma. You're wearing the shirt he came with, and he half-heartedly wonders if anyone's out and about on campus on a Saturday mid-morning. It's not that he's embarrassed of how he looks, he would just much rather be able to blend into the crowd with ease. Being shirtless would prevent that, probably.

If he was wearing athletic shorts, on the other hand, he could pretend he was going on a run. Alas, he wore jeans to your dorm. It seems his options were either leave and demand you return his shirt via Tinder, or--

"Where're you going?"

Your sleep-tinged voice cuts through his thought process, and he snaps his head up to look at you. It seems his movements were not calculated enough, since you're now awake. He watches as you blink sleep from your eyes, turning onto your back to stretch your limbs out in all directions with a quiet groan. You sit up in the bed, glancing from him to the shirt you're wearing. "This isn't mine," you say at last.

He lets out a slight chuckle. "No, that's mine. You must've put it on during the night. And I was just heading out, actually."

You let out a gasp, clapping your hands over your heart. "Without even saying goodbye? How cold. How cruel, Tsukishima. I'm heartbroken." Your tone is light, teasing; he can't help but smile in response.

"You were sound asleep. I didn't wanna disturb you." His eyes trail over your body, hidden by a combination of his tee and the blanket that's draped haphazardly over your form.

You raise one eyebrow at him, a devious look in your eyes. "So you were just gonna leave my dorm without a shirt on?"

"Was hoping I could pass as someone going for a morning jog."

"In jeans?"

He falls silent at that, because how could he refute those words? You were just voicing his internal argument, anyways. He lets out a huff and sits on the edge of your bed, taking care to avoid squashing your feet under the blanket. "You have a good point," he finally mutters. He's not sure why he feels embarrassed, but he can feel the tips of his ears heat up as a blush begins to crawl down his features.

"I make those sometimes," you say. He glances at you and catches you looking away from his torso, your cheeks now dusted with the color of shame from being caught in the act. He lets out another chuckle.

"You can look, you know. It's not like I'm actively trying to hide it."

Your response to that is to fish out a pair of sunglasses from your nightside table and put them on before shifting your body to face him. You lean closer to his torso, remarking, "Sunglasses are so great because no one can tell where I'm looking," before straightening up and taking the accessory off. "Sorry. Got struck by divine inspiration for that one."

He just shakes his head, a look of feigned annoyance passing on his features, before he holds his hand out. "Can I have my shirt back now?"

You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes. "I guess." With swift movements, his shirt is off your body and in his hand, exposing your bra -- and upper body -- to the elements. Now it's his turn to stare, and he does so without shame.

"You literally saw all of this last night," you state after a brief period of quiet. That snaps Tsukishima out of his reverie, and he puts his shirt on.

"Yeah? You saw all of this--" he gestures to his now-clothed torso, "--last night too."

"Touché."

The silence returns as he stands and shuffles about the room, seemingly aimless in his wandering. This time, it's tinged with an undercurrent of awkwardness, as if neither of you are sure about what to say next. Finally, he relents: "I'm gonna go now."

"Sounds good!" is your automatic reply, and he watches as you immediately facepalm. "Not good as in, you suck get out, good as in, go live your life, I swear."

"Haha, I got it, no worries."

And with that, he's out the door, the image of you shirtless in your own bed seared into his retinas.

Another round wouldn't hurt, right? is all he's thinking about as he walks back to his own dorm, trying to mathematically calculate how much time should pass before he reaches out to you again. Because you, as a person, seem to have him hooked with your charm and your appeal.

Besides, he's already broken one rule with you -- what's the harm in breaking the other two?

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melliiaahh · 1 year

Text

⚝Blue Lock Boys being jealous over you⚝

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How they act when someone it hitting on you!

Word count:1.8k

Warning: Swearing, mentions of sexual interactions and feminine descriptions

Featuring : Bachira, Kunigami, Chigiri, Isagi, Sae, Nagi and Reo

Genre : fluff, Jealousy

Notes: more of a short story/HC. If you ever want more characters feel free to ask !

if you like my stuff here is my masterlist for more!

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Yoichi Isagi

He was probably walking towards you from behind with the food he bought for the both of you and notice a guy he didn’t recognise trying to ask for you number. When he realised what was happening, jealousy quickly built up in him.

He didn’t want you to see him this way so he stood behind you and DEATH GLARED the shit out of the other guy until he got really uncomfortable.

You obviously told the stranger than you have a boyfriend so the guy put 1+1 together that Yoichi who looked like death itself was your boyfriend and quickly ran away.

Once the guy left Isagi revealed himself from behind you and gave you your drink with a grin, trying to hide the fact that he was right behind you the whole time witnessing the conversation.

Of course you being oblivious to it, you explained to him what just happened even though he already knew. He grabbed your hand and brought it close to his face before giving your hand a quick kiss on your knuckles before replying to you “ well too bad to that guy, you’re already taken” <3

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Meguru Bachira

Although feeling a bit jealous and possessive he would let his ego get in the way a little and make it into a game or just straight out embarrass you to get the other guy uncomfortable-_-.

He would say stuff like “ oh? You want y/n? Sorry~ she is taken. You can have a look at the marks on my back or neck she left on me last night? She’s really good at-“ he got pushed away by you from embarrassment of him mentioning the festivities from the night before…

but he quickly wraps his arms around you before turning back to the guy and stating “ so back off. She’s mine”

You both walk away before smacking his arm “ Megggg, you didn’t have to mention all of that! I was just about to tell him I was taken you know?” You said still flustered at what just happened. “ yeah I know but I like showing you off to people who wish to be me you know? Plus I love telling people that you’re my girl<3”

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Hyoma Chigiri

Chigiri would be a little jealous but not as bad as the others , He would have been coming to pick you up from the store when he saw you getting hit on and CLEARLY looking uncomfortable, just trying to ignore the guy.

He hated the smug look the stranger had on his face while trying to talk to you, because of that he didn’t felt jealous at all, more so irritated at the thought of the guy even thinking he had a chance.

Stepping out of the car, Chigiri walks up towards you till he’s able to put his arm around your shoulder before kissing you on the head.

Chigiri would then just look at the guy with a DISGUSTED glare and would not stop until the guy walks away.

He wouldn’t even have to say anything he would just stare… when the guy FINALLY left he would go up to you and just pull your face into a deep kiss.

After the man nearly SUCKS THE SOUL OUTTA YOU he would grin at you puzzled and flustered face before saying “ I’m yours and you’re mine, no one would ever be able to change that my love. Especially not that ugly guy”

(power couple fr, y’all don’t even say anything to the guy. Y’all’s faces were enough to scare him away)

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Rin Itoshi

Would be a mix of Chigiri and Isagi tbh. Rin isn’t jealous per say he is more disgusted/angry at the thought of another guy trying to win you over

He would be walking towards your normal meeting spot when he noticed you were there with an unfamiliar face. Immediately displeased at the sight he listens in and realised the stranger was asking for your number.

Becoming even more agitated at him trying to get your number by cornering you into the wall he quickly grabs the back of the guys collar and flings him away (obviously because he’s strong as shit)

When the guy turns around to see why he was flinged away from you, he’s met with the dark presence of RIN ITOSHI. Rin then glares at him before saying through gritted teeth “ Piss. Off. People like you who are lukewarm disgust me, She’s with me”.

Immediately realising that he fucked with the wrong person (because of course Rin would be very popular in town both for his looks, soccer skills and his mean demeanour) the stranger quickly runs away.

Rin would then turn to you “ Are you okay?”. He would make sure you’re okay and that the guy didn’t touch or hurt you before speaking again “Stop associating with people who are lukewarm. No one can have what is mine. Got it?” Then taking your hand and walking to your favourite shop<3

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Sae Itoshi

Like Bachira, he would turn it into a game of course. He isn’t the least bit jealous cause he knows that you’re loyal to him however he would 100% but the other guy in his place.

Sae would see you getting hit on by a stranger and immediately walk over towards you. Sae spins you around to look at him instead of the other guy and he would hold your chin before saying “ Hello sweetheart, who’s this lump of shit talking to you? Should I get rid of him, Hm” Sae would proceed to look him up and down while you explain to him that the stinger was asking for you number.

Sae then responds by saying whilst looking into your eyes with a huge grin on his face “ so love the man wants your number huh?… are you gonna give it to him?” You obviously shake your head no saying “ Sorry I’m already in a relationship with Sae..”

Sae then smirks before going towards the guy who is obviously scared out of his mind for trying to get THE SAE ITOSHI’S partner

“You heard the lady, She’s mine and no small minded lukewarm piece of shit like you is gonna take her away. We clear?” Sae says in a low voice with the clear venom in his words, showing off his dark demeanour similar to his younger brother (just with a lot more words lol).

After the guy literally runs with his tail between his legs he turns to you to make sure you’re okay before grabbing your hand to walk back to the car. “ to think that guy thought he had a chance with you is astonishing. I would never let anyone as lukewarm as him to get between us” <3

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Seishiro Nagi

I feel Nagi wouldn’t notice it at first until it was blatantly obvious (or if someone straight out tells him that someone else is flirting with you) he would be more so annoyed that someone was taking your attention away rather than jealousy. He would also just scare the guy cause mans is BIG

“ Y/nnnnnn what are you doing?… lets go.. we are gonna be late to the release of (video game title)” Nagi grumbles while walking towards you, not realising the other person there

“Sorry my love ill be just a second okay?” You say before turning towards the stranger who had the AUDACITY to ask for your number “yeah sorry I really don’t want to give out my number, I already have a boyfriend” you say before pointing at the literal titan that is standing behind you.

Nagi glares at the stranger and he is JUST NOW realising what is happening then puts his arm around you shoulder then clicks his tongue before saying “how bothersome… y/n is my partner, so can you get lost? We have places to be you know…”

He then grabs your hand, spins you around so you’re facing him and gives it a quick kiss on your knuckles before walks away before the stranger could even say anything.

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Kunigami Rensuke

Kunigami would be a lot nicer than everyone else ( unless after the wildcard then he would be like Rin or Chigiri) He also wouldn’t be the type to be jealous unless the guy was making like MADDD advances towards you, He’s more so protective <3.

In this case he wouldn’t have noticed what was happening HAHAH. He walked up to you and the stranger and quickly put his hands around your waist, He’d quickly introduce himself as your man but then realise the guy looked shocked when he mentioned that.

Kunigami then realised after you explained to him that the stranger is hitting on you and trying to get your number so he says “well its nice and all that you have the guts to ask for someones number but I’m afraid y/n is with me so if you can refrain from hitting on her id appreciate that buddy”

then he’d grab your chin to make you look at him and gave you a deep kiss while low-key glaring at the guy till he got uncomfortable and walked away, He then smirked and continue to give you a long and heart-warming kiss just to remind you that he would protect you and love you forever and no guy could compete with that <3

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Mikage Reo

Mans has some jealousy ISSUES FR. When he notices what’s going on Reo would step in-between you and the guy, glare at him and say “ you’re a ballsy guy aren’t you? Trying to hit on them? Well you see I have an issue with that one since they’re with me. So hands and eyes off buddy or we are gonna have a serious problem.”

Once he finished speaking he’s in the mans face ready to punch his square in the eyes. But was quickly pulled away by you since you didn’t want to cause any problems at your boyfriends fathers company party.

“ You don’t have to do that you know? I’m not going anywhere Reo” you hold his face to look at you and not at the guy who was probably shitting his pants from pissing off the CEOS son .

“ Maybe I should get you a necklace or something that has my name on its so people can take their eyes and hands off what’s mine.. you’re my love and I would never want to lose you to any of these low lives” He will then grin at you, before quickly going on his phone to order you that necklace

If getting you a necklace with his name or jersey number on it, is what it takes to tell people that you’re in a relationship then he would gladly do it for you in a heart beat, because to him you’re all that matters to him<3

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lostheretics · 8 months

Text

PLOT TWIST (6)

▸ chapter 6; bonnie, clyde, and the others on the side

pt. 1 || pt. 2 || pt. 3 || pt. 4 || pt. 5 || pt. 6

✵ cast : jung wooyoung x fem!reader, kim hongjoong, lee juyeon, kim younghoon, ateez, mentioned oc and many kpop artists name or group

✵ genre : romance, marriage life, eventual angst, smut, mafia!au, non idol!au

✵ summary : there's you, and me, and us, and oh wait. perhaps there's more.

in which marriage is not always a paradise, honeymoon avenue somehow is far behind as you look through the rearview mirror. and beware of the road ahead, for accidents might happen. road work, traffic jam,

or some stranger trying to get a lift, perhaps for a permanent front seat.

✵ notes : 6k-ish. thanks for waiting, to those whoever awaits i guess. PLS REBLOG (i will appreciate this sm) AND GIVE SOME THOUGHTS IF U HAVE THEM. ENJOY

WARNINGS BELOW CUT

☒ warnings: bad words here and there (it's life, but still minors dni) but do remind me if i missed something.

☒ i do not condone mafia acts nor any acts that goes against the law at all. everything mentioned are just purely fiction, made to entertain myself and fellow readers in this particular platforms.

☒ do not repost this on any other platform without my permission!

✓ reblogging, liking, and commenting this post in tumblr (through comment or askbox) are very much appreciated.

i don’t know how exactly to start this one.

but it’s about younghoon, the crown prince of seoul, the heir of the seoul kim family and the huge problem he’s facing right now. he’s in a deep shit. the shit being the problem that could swallow him whole. the huge problem being falling in love.

how is it a problem? one might ask.

well, he fell in love with a woman he’s not supposed to fall in love with. for god’s sake, it was supposed to be just a one night job. a good friendship, a good business partner if it goes for more. but he overstepped. he couldn’t help it. not to mention the woman he fell in love with is already tied down to another man.

simply put, he somehow fell in love with jung y/n.

and most of all, over a single fucking ice cream night.

as he laid on his bed, his mind could only go back on repeating the moment, on and on again.

you were such a good dancer.

you’re a really good dancer.

younghoon’s brain kept on saying so as each of his hand held your waist and hand, guiding you through a dance in one of mrs. han’s party that you got yourself into.

he still couldn’t believe how easy it is for you to get an invitation over a single lunch and conversation with mrs. han.

safe to say you had charmed the lady.

and not long into the party, you had once again charmed your way into her heart. and her daughter’s heart more importantly, with the talk of younghoon’s brother, the main target of the whole operation. you charmed them so much to the point that mrs. han had set a formal date to meet both the families up. of course, with the thoughts of marital proposal and possible mergers of the two powers.

the outcome of it might still change, but you still got the two families to meet up with each other and that alone is impressive enough to him.

that’s why you and younghoon spend the rest of the evening dancing and chatting. the job is practically finished, and what’s left was easing up to each other.

“i owe you for this one. a promise and more, i think. you’ve landed my whole family a new ally, and my brother a possible wife. in less than a month, i might add.” he had said while leading you on a dance.

you’ve found that younghoon, more than just a charming man, is also a good and down earthed one.

you smiled at him, “it’s a possible outcome, but not yet certain, mr. kim.”

“younghoon.”

“huh?”

“younghoon. it’s kinda too fast, but we’ve come this far and i think it’s safe to say we can certainly be on first name basis now, y/n.” he said, “only if you’re comfortable with it, of course.”

“…if you say so, younghoon.”

younghoon smiled back. it might sound awkward still, but for that, time can be the cure. not everything can be done instantly anyways.

the dance stopped after a while. younghoon and you had several rounds of conversations around the room, keeping the couple act up. his hand would be guiding you by your back, fixing your dress or holding your drink or handbag whenever you need the help, including you in every conversation.

he truly is a gentleman.

mrs. han, as the socialite she is, invited many important guests. though filled with other socialite wives, there are some prominent figures like deputy chief of the police, in which younghoon is close to, several high ranked people from ministry of health, or even other well-known and successful businessmen and businesswomen from all around the country. everything fell like a domino effect to you, just by knowing younghoon alone.

after a while, you and younghoon came to the realization that you both were not a fan of the crowd. hence, you both decided to shy away from the crowd and opting to sit by the empty gardens, a bowl of ice cream in on one hand and your champagne glasses on the other.

quietness filled you both as you enjoy the way the star shone that night, while munching on the vanilla ice cream you got from the ice cream bar inside.

“this reminds me of the first time i met you, you know.” younghoon broke the silence. you turned to him with a raised eyebrow, telling him to elaborate.

“i was getting away from the crowd in juyeon’s party so i went to the gardens. instead of watching the sky, i had to watch this lady fainting in the middle of the garden in a party—“

“ugh.” you groaned.

“—and i had no choice but to help her, because i’m such a gentleman.” he jested.

you closed your eyes. “that’s the most embarrassing thing to ever happen in my entire life.”

“imagine the shock when i learned this lady who fainted would soon become my business partner? and great one at that?”

“great one? i’m flattered, younghoon.”

“and you should be. with the amount of achievement? so many in so little time.” younghoon said.

you chuckled lightly. you looked at the hem of your dress, playing with it to satisfy your fidgety urge.

“i had to. you know, for the family. for my husband, given the state we were in.” you murmured, “i only want stability, if not with peace.”

it wasn’t the first time you mentioned your husband’s name to him. some people in the mafia know that you are jung wooyoung’s wife, and he your husband. younghoon knew that too. but most of the times you were with younghoon, you never failed to mention your husband’s name. him being a great caporegime, good strategist, good husband who took you to meetings, et cetera. and always with a smile on your face. it never failed to amaze younghoon just how much love you have for him.

“how does it feel like?” he blurted out suddenly.

“huh?”

“to be married. to be in love in this… society of ours.” he said. “you seemed to be in love with your husband, which isn’t an everyday thing that happen here, you know? ‘cause most relationships are… benefit based. arranged marriage, forced ones… so how?”

“oh, that.” you smiled. “because there isn’t any benefit. we’re just… in love with each other. i didn’t came from any mafia group or family, it just happen that i worked for one without knowing they’re one, and i just met wooyoung. just like that. it’s unlikely in the mafia world, and the ways are also unlikely to happen in a normal world. but we dated, we fell harder, and decided to settle down.”

“and to me, at least, it feels great. i don’t think i’ll ever feel this way again. not before him, not after him.” you had mouthed in the end, unconsciously pouring up some of you heart contents.

younghood sighed. “must be beautiful.”

“you could’ve got all of it, you know. just now.”

“how so?”

“the arrangement with the han’s daughter. might be an arrangement, but a good and stable one at that. i mean, you’re the crown prince of your family. you have power. just treat her right, and tell her to treat you right, then you wait for the love to bloom. might take time, might not be the same as mine, but a win win solution still.” you expressed. “why giving it all away for your brother? no offense, he looks like a great guy like you, but why?”

younghoon chuckled. the usual question. after all, who in their right mind would give away all powers like just that?

“hm, where do i start?” he murmured to himself, then continued.

“to put it easily, i’m here, but i don’t wanna be here. my heart isn’t fully in this. despite my rank, birth and responsibilities, my brother is more suited for this job. that's why he's always around me, i might hand him this job. hence, the arrangement and all."

“what is it then, the thing you want to do the most?”

he leaned back a bit. eyes looking up, seemingly thinking and lost in his thoughts. you stared at him, stared at the way his eyes mirror the twinkling of the stars, and the way he tugged his lips up.

“a doctor.” he quietly said, after a while. “a real one. not for my family’s business. going all around the world as a volunteer, and actually helping actual people in need.”

“when i was in uni, i wanted to pursue a med career. but my dad didn’t really approve of it— of my future career choices in med as a volunteer. and med field are most held by my uncle and his children. so my dad offered me a chance for a med career, just not in the actual med field, but more on the business site. so i took law as my major and business as my minor and took over one of our hospitals.” he explained, before continuing, “but, i still make the best out of it. i volunteered a lot in uni, and my hospital is one of the best hospital in seoul in its practices, and we have a lot charity events to help people.”

you stared at him, awed. there was no words that could describe how amazed you are.

“wow.” was all you could say.

silence filled the both of you for quite some time. each of you let the conversation sink in deep, trying to understand each character, though perhaps in a light that’s slightly different from the usual one in the underworld. there were no hostility, no walls kept up too high, no tactics.

just two people in a mellow moment, enjoying each other’s company and in harmony.

following your own question, he then asked.

“what about you, y/n? what kind of life do you want to live?”

now, it was your time to be the one deep in thoughts. the one who stare at the stars, humming to yourself, thinking of the right answer.

“not a mafia one, to be honest.” you murmured, “but… ever since i met wooyoung, i feel like… i’ve lived my life. that i’m living in the life that i want,”

”with the one that i love most.”

somehow your words seemed so sincere to younghoon’s ears. so pure, so innocent, and so dreamy. something that he once dreamed of, something, or dare he say, someone that he wished for.

and somehow, you left younghoon star struck.

how will he ever move on? how will he ever find someone if he set such standard for his love life? a fairytale like love life, in this kind of environment.

he wondered about the life that you have with wooyoung, wondered if he ever will have those life. he wondered what if he was the one you met instead of wooyoung.

wishful thinking, eh?

but that’s all they are; thoughts. his gentlemanly self wouldn’t have it in his heart to steal like that. to take someone else away just for his own. no, he’s not that kind of man, and he stood by that.

yet it didn’t do anything to erase your pictures from his mind. at least for the night. it doesn’t lessen the warmth bubbling in his gut as he type his message to you in his phone; the eagerness to see you as soon as possible.

me: evening y/n. is tomorrow’s plan still up?

younghoon put his hand down, tapping his phone against his bedsheet as he anxiously wait for a reply; if any would come. the clock on his bedside table showed the time. 1:47 am. you must’ve fallen asleep, right?

right.

ding.

jung y/n: wouldn’t miss it. see u soon, hoon

younghoon think he might need to see a doctor now. his heart’s beating way too fast.

you: woo you: i dont think i can send lunch today cause im visiting the kims at their house. im sorry :(((((( you: pls dont miss lunch ok i asked the butler to send u some food. ilysm you: also idk when i’ll be home, so pls sleep early. i promise u’ll see me in ur dreams xo

you sighed, just after your thumb clicked on the send button for the last message.

sending lunch for wooyoung is one of your sacred daily routine ever since marriage, and this would be the first time for you not to do so. you sighed again, trying to get the uneasiness to subside so you can focus on your job today.

but it’s still there. prickling you slightly from the inside, initiating the thoughts and realization that you haven’t met wooyoung that much these past few days.

waking up today, you could only share a quick peck as wooyoung was in a hurry for a mission, so he said. last few days you could only drop his lunch and left as quick to continue your own job. suddenly everyone everywhere needed you.

you miss him.

last night you were together, you remember as if it was just yesterday, you recalled how you were talking about this exact problem, this exact thing. it fears you of how fast it came true to life. and you fear even more if it ever will go even further.

ding

woo: im gonna cry woo: jk but it’s ok babe i’ll be on a mission anw today, i dont know when i’ll be done. but i’ll be home tonight woo: come back fast if u can, ok? i love you too

just as you finished reading his replies, a sound of horn blasted as a black shiny car pulled up in front of you. the door to the driver side opened up, and you were gifted with the sight of younghoon emerging from the car, offering you a bright smile.

“ready?” was all he said while opening the passenger door, inviting you into his car.

you nod and said a small yes, entering his car. you stare at your screen for a little while, before typing a quick response.

wifey: i’ll try my best.

a sigh escaped through his lips after your last message to him. putting his phone back to the slot beside him, wooyoung could only stare far into the dark alleys in front of him. his mind filled with you it made his heart heavy.

it was never a problem before, when he had to go far or for a while on missions away from you. you’d miss him, he’d miss you, but right then he knew that whatever the circumstances, when he came back home you’ll always be there.

it’s not the case now.

he’s away for missions, and you’re away for business. when you’re home, he might not be home, and when he’s home, you might not be.

for that, he feels the subtle ache in his chest.

his fingers mindlessly tapped against the wheel of his car, before he was pulled back to his senses. the passenger door opened, showing jiwoo and her smile.

and her tight red dress.

“take a picture, it’ll last longer.” her snickers made him clear his throat, looking somewhere else to avoid jiwoo’s playful glint. he mentally slapped himself for even staring at jiwoo, but as a man, how could he not?

her neck is on display, as were her long legs. the dress short, but long enough to keep the gun and some knives hidden away. and with her features, anyone would be swooned by her presence.

maybe that’s why she got assigned for this mission, and again, with wooyoung.

what the fuck am i thinking? i have a wife.

“what takes you so long?”

“chill, i was getting some snacks for us. you said we’ll be spying and tailing a lot, so i figured we’ll be staying in the car quite a lot.”

“nah, change of plans.”

“what?”

“san called. seonghwa said we should go undercover into the club and get the stuff ourselves. so i’ll go as a gambler and you,” he eyed her up and down, “you, conveniently, will be enough as a distraction. did you knew we’re doing this for the mission?”

“nope, i was just feeling myself with the dress.” she shrugged. wooyoung raised a brow, but found nothing came up into his mind nor out of his mind, so he just started driving, wanting nothing more than to finish the mission.

“so what’s the stuff we’re getting?” jiwoo asked as they parked a few buildings before the club. the car came to a halt, the sight of the dimly lit club welcomed their eyes.

“san said it’s a ledger.” he got himself ready, “hongjoong needs something in there. it’s a proof, list of government officers getting involved in the human trafficking ring.”

“that’s terrible.”

“there are better words to describe how disgusting that is, but sure. now,” he turned to jiwoo, “i’ll go in, act kinda drunk and gamble some money for the ledger. you’ll be the distraction and a plan b; should i fail in getting the ledger, you should be the one getting it. okay?”

“okay.”

parting there, wooyoung got out of the car and walked to the club.

so here’s the thing about missions. they can be safe, they can be risky. zero to two means safe, something like spying or just plain investigating. on the other hand, field missions can have more risks, depending on the type of job. whether you have to stay low, or to kill as little as possible, or to not be seen yet has to be there on the spot. it depends.

and on a scale from one to ten, wooyoung is absolutely fucked.

it was supposed to be a ‘get in, get out’ type of job and without being seen. yet he managed to make a group of 10 people running after him in the club, after he tried to trick the dealer, a.k.a the owner of the club —the stupidest thing he's ever done in a mission.

“stop right there!”

a gunshot was heard, luckily not hitting wooyoung anywhere. but guns are out, which means his had to, whether he liked it or not.

he ran in between the crowd of people dancing and getting high, staying as low and as unseen as possible —which, he kinda failed in the first place, but he did his absolute best—, and he took out his glock from his hidden holster, shooting enemies in his sight. thankfully the music is loud enough to cover the sound of his gun. the ledger is safe in the bag, but if he’s not, then there’s no point in doing the mission any longer. but he had to hold on.

all while he ran and shoot, he cursed jiwoo for not holding them for long. she should’ve been a distraction, but perhaps not distracting enough.

“fuck!” he shouted.

and right after, the power went out in the whole club.

all the lights, all the music suddenly died, and the party goers could only ah-ed in unison clearly disappointed at the outcome. wooyoung couldn’t see anything in the dark, and had to stop for a while. he looked around, and found the group of men running after him starting to turn on their flashlights. he was about to run when suddenly someone grabbed his hand.

“it’s me, jiwoo!” the voice whispered loudly. wooyoung looked up and found jiwoo holding him, pulling him away from the crowd. she handed him a shirt and a new hat, rushing to cover him with it.

“let’s get out.”

jiwoo guided him out, away from the prying eyes in the darkness, before the power went back on. the backdoor was empty, leaving only wooyoung and jiwoo. jiwoo kept holding onto wooyoung, pulling him as they ran for their car a few blocks down. wooyoung almost threw himself into the car, sighed loudly when he felt the leather seat touched his back.

“what the fuck was that?” he spat out to jiwoo.

“you tell me! how’d you get chased by those guys? i thought we’re doing this quietly?” she spat back.

“that was the plan, but you failed to hold them back.”

jiwoo rolled her eyes. “no, you failed to realize that they have more security than what you think.”

“the fuck was that supposed to mean? i had mingi and san check everything before we go in. and they're doing a bidding for the ledgers anyways.” wooyoung hit back, making her sigh before explaining.

“you were already far into the club when i found out that the bidding is for tomorrow, so the ledger being there was still a top secret until tonight. reaching out would be risky, and i couldn’t explain it that fast, so i had to do plan c.”

“plan c?”

“i broke into their cctvs and jammed the whole thing so there’s no track of you, then cut out the power to get you out of there.”

he contemplated her answers for a while. sighing again, wooyoung laid back to his chair, trying to ease his breathing.

“thank you.” he said defeatedly.

“we’re partners. i protect you, and you protect me woo,” she shrugged. “now move your ass and let me drive. you’re hurt.”

“huh?”

he glanced towards his body trying to find the hurting part. he reached behind his shoulder, wincing when felt a cut wound along his upper shoulder blade. blood was evident on his fingertips when he pulled them back. it must be enemies’ knife cutting through when they fought, and didn’t realize up until jiwoo point it out.

“just a scratch.”

“yeah well that scratch probably needs a few stitches. c’mon.”

jiwoo moved into the driver’s seat, then drove the car away from the chaotic club. for a while, no one said a word, except wooyoung when he gave a call to san about the mission. the sight of endless trees and dark road made him drowsy, and soon he fell into his slumber.

“hey, wake up.”

wooyoung jolted awake, blinking his sleepiness away after jiwoo woke him up. he looked around in confusion, realizing they’re not back at their base.

“where are we?”

“other town nearby. let’s be safe and make sure they lost our tracks completely,” she pushed his seat back to create more space before shimmying herself into the tight spot. “take your shirt off.”

“w-what?”

the comical look in his eyes made jiwoo laughed as she reached for his shirt.

“yo! yes you’re hot–“

“i’m hot?” she chuckled.

“yes, no– shit– i got a wife ji–“

“’m not trying to fuck, silly. i’m trying to fix your wound. now take the damn shirt off.”

with jiwoo's determination, he had no choice but to take off his shirt hesitantly, glancing back to jiwoo, “look away.”

“shut the fuck up i've literally seen your body when we spar.”

off his shirt goes, showing his skin that glows under the yellow lights. jiwoo handed him a soju to distract him from the pain as she stitch his wound up. he winced a couple of times when the needle poked through his skin, but he held on.

jiwoo’s fingertips are cold, soothing to his hot wounded skin. despite the harsh words, she’s light with her hands. the sound of his and her quiet breathing filled the air.

“the pharmacist said there’s a motel just down the road, maybe we should crash there for the night.”

maybe it’s the soju he downed to the last drop. maybe he lost too much blood because of that wound. maybe it’s the fact that he’s half naked, tipsy, and jiwoo is wearing a red, absolutely sexy dress, but holy fuck, did jung wooyoung just glitched in the brain at the mention of a motel and staying the night out with another woman.

“why?”

“it’s almost 2 in the morning.” she murmured. “the drive to the base would take 2 to 3 hours, and honestly i’m tired. you’re wounded and no doubt tipsy, i’m not about to let us crash somewhere down the road.”

that makes sense. but he had other ideas, as he reached out to the console, trying to find his phone. maybe someone could fetch them up, wooyoung thought. he tapped on the screen a couple of times, clicking on the power button but to no avail. the screen stayed dark.

“shit, my phone’s dead.” he glanced towards jiwoo who just shrugged.

“mine’s dead too.”

and no one thought of bringing a charger with them.

he groaned, leaning back to his seat. after a few beat of silence, he just nodded. “well, i guess we have no choice.”

somewhere in him, it feels wrong. like something is poking through his chest as jiwoo drove down the road, right to the said motel and parked the car. like there’s an unseen stop sign in him, reminding him to not to do it as jiwoo pulled him to the motel room.

but what could go wrong? wooyoung doesn’t like jiwoo in that way.

not even the way she took her dress off carelessly in front of him, opting to change into a bathrobe that’s not even tied properly. not the way he clearly saw her pair of underwear.

shit.

but no, he doesn’t like her like that. and he’s sure of that. yet, the blaring sound of siren kept playing in his mind, reminding him that this isn’t right.

but perhaps it’s the soju that calmed the siren down, as he doze off into his slumber once again.

jung wooyoung woke up that morning, with a headache and pain on his shoulder. and that dull thing poking through his chest, and the same siren blasted again in his head when he saw himself; splayed on the bed half naked, with jiwoo and her loose robe, limbs tangled with each other underneath the sheets.

nothing happened last night, he's damn sure of it and remembered every single second that passed before he fell asleep.

yet, still, he doesn’t like this feeling.

“are you okay?”

younghoon nudged you, who immediately woke up from the empty daydream you had just now.

“huh?”

“you’ve been out of it for like, a solid 5 minutes. are you okay? did my father say something to offend you?”

“no. nothing important.”

yes. it was something that could change her whole life.

you sighed, “it’s just… i forgot to tell wooyoung that i’m staying out last night. he hates sleeping alone.” she lied. though, not entirely. she did forgot to tell wooyoung about the whole staying out for the night last night. wooyoung would absolutely gone batshit, but judging from the lack of his messages on your phone, he might not have known it yet. which is strange.

guilt bubbled up in younghoon, easily seen through his eyes. “i’m really sorry about last night. my father… tend to get too friendly and would sometimes step over the boundaries, like insisting for you to stay the night. i should’ve said no and took you home. god, he even made you stay up late.” he grumbled.

“it’s okay, he meant well. i just forgot to tell wooyoung, that’s all.”

“when i drop you off, i’ll explain everything to wooyoung and hongjoong, so they won’t have any weird ideas about it.” younghoon said, “you’re a married woman after all. we don’t want any trouble.”

you smiled and nodded, “thank you for the offer. i’d be thankful.”

younghoon smiled back, and continued driving towards ateez mansion, as you fall back to yet another set of daydreaming, or, more specifically contemplating your whole existence after the talk with younghoon’s father last night.

over some of his words.

01.59 am

a sigh almost left your mouth, along with a yawn, but you held back as best as you could. after all, you’re presented before kim younghoon’s father, the senior in kim’s family and not to mention one of the prominent figure in the business.

but you have no regrets, all the time passed wasn’t for nothing. and he’s a pleasant man.

“you work diligently, younghoon have said this a lot. he’s not easy to get close with,” the man chuckled, “well, it’s a shame that you’re married. i would’ve offered my son to you, he seemed intrigued.”

“you flatter me, sir. and more often than not, younghoon is the one who helped me a lot since i got into the business.”

he smiled, putting down his cup of tea. “so i’ve heard. ah, didn’t you meet younghoon through the lees?”

you nodded, “yes. lee juyeon, to be precise. though, i don’t know what younghoon has told you about it…”

“he told me everything. of why juyeon gave you to us, what you want and what he wanted. that boy,” he shook his head, tsk-ing, “ruthless as his father was. the whole people in the business had to tip toe around him if they want to be alive. jiyoung would never do that.” then he proceeded to say something that made you raise a brow.

“her child would never.”

“i thought that was just a rumor?”

the man smiled knowingly. “well, sweet lady, this old man here has a reason for supporting lee jiyoung when the sibling war happened, and still is, until now. i know a secret or two, things that others don’t know.” mr. kim explained with a longing gaze. “she’s my best friend, after all.”

“like, a secret marriage?”

you shoot your shot.

“i was one of the few to witness her marriage. she loved seo rim well, despite the fast that he’s just a bodyguard. going against his elder’s wishes of marrying someone more prominent in the business to secure her safety and her throne, me being one of them.”

“and now for that, she had to lose everything. but whatever people say, it was a lawful marriage.”

“seo rim?”

mr. kim laughed, “oh, oops. the name’s out i guess.”

you pressed him again, shooting your shot one more time. “but, what about the child? was it a girl or a boy? where are they?”

but to that question, mr. kim just shrugged. he downed his tea before filling his cup again. “dunno. but if i do, i’d protect them with all i have.”

you closed your mouth, only nodding to his answer. you laid back to your chair. the new information filled your head so it all circled your mind. secret marriage, possible offspring of lee jiyoung. seo rim. the name echoed in your mind. a name you never know before,

but now you do.

mr. kim hummed, staring into the fire in front of him, seemingly in his own mind. you stared at the old man, a few white strands of hair on his head, several lines on his face, and you wonder, what does it feels like to witness a war and survived. he lived long, enough to know the lee jiyoung, to witness things that others don’t. long enough to know people, wise enough to know what to do and what not.

hence the question.

“why me?”

“hm?”

“why did you tell me this? we just met today. and even if you do know me, it’s only from younghoon and that’s not even enough.” you murmured, “so why are you telling me this?”

the man hummed again. “because i know,” he said, making you raise a brow. he continued, “i know i can trust you.”

“where have you been?!”

san’s screeching voice was the first to greet wooyoung when he stepped out of his car with jiwoo. the said man had his hands on his hips, eagle eyes staring down judgingly at the two partners.

“bed’s empty, no note, car gone! you could’ve died!”

wooyoung massaged his temples. “now’s not the time to quote some harry potter line, san.” he groaned.

san shrugged. “it was a moment. and seriously, where have you been? you two! not even a text or a call, we were about to hunt you down!” he accusingly said. “you and y/n both, woo. thankfully y/n told us her whereabouts just this morning. but you? radio silent.”

“my phone died, and so did jiwoo’s.” wooyoung lifted his head when he realized san mentioned your name. “y/n did what?”

slowly, san lowered his hands from his hips. his eyes starting to grow wide with confusion in it. “she didn’t tell you?”

“tell me what?” wooyoung pressed.

“she’s staying out last night as well. at the kim’s.”

his brain short circuited, trying to process san’s words a couple of times. when he finally processed the whole sentences, it left him utterly dumbfounded.

“what?!”

just after he screamed, a black car stopped behind them. the sight of kim younghoon getting out of the car greeted them, along with you, whose door was held open by younghoon.

“speak of the devil.” san blurted.

wooyoung ignored his remarks, opting to trot his way to you. he threw a look on younghoon, before pulling you away from him.

“you didn’t come home last night? why? why didn’t you tell me?” he pressed, his hand still circling your wrist.

you quickly felt guilty. “i’m sorry love, it was younghoon’s father sudden invitation. i couldn’t really get my phone, that was my fault.” you ran your free hand over his bicep, trying to soothe the anger away. “won’t happen again. what time did you get home last night?”

“he stayed out as well.” san replied from behind you. your eyes widened, while he freezed.

“what? you didn’t tell me anything about it. what happened? wha-“ your palm acidentally touched to his shoulder blades, feeling the rough bandage underneath it, “were you hurt?”

but wooyoung turned away, pushing your hand lightly. “just a scratch, it doesn’t matter.” he turned his gaze back to you, once again giving you a questioning look. “why didn’t you come home? why would you stay at someone else’s place? baby, you’re my wife. what would other people say?”

younghoon slotted himself between the two of you. clearing his throat, he explained, “mr. jung, that was my fault. my father can be quite pushy, he insisted that mrs. jung must stay the night because he wanted her company and to talk. i’m sorry, i should’ve insisted on taking her home.”

“damn right you should’ve.” wooyoung spat, earning a slap on his chest from you.

“wooyoung!”

younghoon bowed slightly. “i’m sorry. i’ll make sure no one knows about this, and i’ll explain everything to hongjoong. if these words ever comes out i won’t hesitate to straighten things up and i certainly won’t let this ruin your or y/n’s reputations. once again, i’m sorry.” the man doesn’t even lift his head, bowing once again. “i’m sorry. excuse me.”

“hoon–“ you tried to call him but to no avail, as the man quickly got into his car and drove away. you watched in guilt as his black car went further. throwing a side eye at wooyoung, you detached yourself from him, grumbling as you walked away. he followed right behind you.

“i can’t believe you just did that!”

wooyoung scoffed. “am i not allowed to do that? you’re my wife, and your husband is questioning why were you staying the night at some other man’s house!”

stopping in your tracks, you turned back to glare at him. “i did nothing with younghoon, heck i even stayed at a different wing in his mansion!” you point your finger, “you were staying out last night as well! with your partner who, by the way is also a woman! did you see me complaining or accusing you of anything? no text no nothing, who knows what you did out there?”

…splayed on the bed half naked, with jiwoo and her loose robe, limbs tangled with each other underneath the sheets.

“how could you accuse me of cheating?we didn't do anything!”

“i didn’t even say the word. you put those in your own mouth.”

“i got injured, she was tired, both of our phones are dead, we had no choice but to stay out!”

“that’s exactly what happened to me! younghoon’s father wanted to speak, yes he’s a fucking pushover and that’s kinda annoying so i had no choice but to do as he says because he’s that important, but i did nothing other than talking.” you half shouted. “kim younghoon is an ally, woo. an important one right now. i’m not doing this for me, this whole thing is a business, but then you shouted at him, being completely unprofessional and irrational, i—“

you bit your lip, trying to held your emotions back. “if something goes wrong, hongjoong’s gonna be mad. i’m trying my best right now to gain his trust, to gain something for us, but y—“ you choked back your tears out of frustration, trying your best not to let out a single drop of it.

seeing how you almost broke down lessen his anger.

“baby….”

“you two, enough.”

hongjoong’s voice blared through the whole hallway, making you both turned your heads. you quickly wiped a single tear, trying to compose yourself.

hongjoong had his hands on his pocket, eyes icy as he stared down at the both of you.

“how many times do i have to tell you to keep your goddamn professionalism first in the business?” he gritted through his teeth. you and wooyoung could only stare at the floor beneath you. you heard a sigh coming out of hongjoong’s mouth.

“younghoon explained everything to me, even gave me a proof of y/n’s room. i know you’re angry, but you shouldn’t have shouted at him, woo. and y/n you should’ve known better than to stay at someone else’s place. the fuck is wrong with you two? i'm not even married but i at least know this.”

you and wooyoung could only turn away from hongjoong's gaze, clearly lost your faces.

he shook his head, opting to leave the problem behind. “make up later, however it is. now, you both clean after yourselves, especially you, y/n.” he pointed at you, “you have a lunch reservation with lee juyeon. i approved it for you. i’ll pick you up after for a meeting with stray kids.”

“she just came back from younghoon, now she has to go out with another man again?”

hongjoong only stared at him. “i said stay professional.” he said, before he turned back and walked away.

there’s something sour left in his tongue.

he’s fully aware of the cause, he just couldn’t say it out loud. so he just sat there on the edge of the bed, watching as you prepare yourself.

the both of you talked and sort things out, explaining each problems while you changed his bandage for a fresher one. both of you talked about how it was unavoidable, things you’ve said before, just with cool heads.

but it still left something unpleasant.

you were stepping into a nice green dress, zipping it up. you strapped your heels, then fixed your makeup. a little blush here and there, your hand danced oh so delicately across your face, it would’ve make him all giddy if it wasn’t for the fact that you were about to go out with some other man.

you caught him staring at you from the vanity mirror, the hardness on his face was unmistakable. you sighed as you turned around, walking towards him. wooyoung turned his gaze to the floor, so you reached for his hands, cradling in it your own.

bringing his knuckles to your lips, you kissed it. “i know you’re upset.” you murmured. he stayed quiet, so you continued.

“i don’t know when will all of this stop. but remember the promise we made? hm?” you cradled his face. “i’ll do anything to keep us together and safe. because i love you, and i need you to understand that there’ll be no one other than you.” you pressed.

“others don’t matter. just you.”

you looked at his lips, crouched down to give him a soft kiss. though a little unresponsive, he gave into the kiss.

“i love you too.” he murmured into your lips.

the same words came from the both of your lips. the both of you truly are each other’s halves, in one heart, in one mind, in one act.

even when the same unpleasant feelings resides in both of your hearts, and you both refused to address it.

kim younghoon: i’m sorry about this morning. y/n: it’s alright. i’m sorry my husband shouted at you. we’ve talked abt it tho kim younghoon: it’s okay. he did the right thing. (typing…) (typing…) (typing…) kim younghoon: he’s ur husband, i understand y/n: thank you kim younghoon: y/n y/n: yes? (typing…) (typing…) kim younghoon: we’re still up for tomorrow? y/n: yes. i’ll see u soon.

“ah! if it’s not the rising star of ateez.”

juyeon gleamed as soon as he saw you, smile so wide his eyes smiled with him. and to your surprise, he quickly reached for your hand, planting a kiss on your knuckles.

your husband, who escorted you there was right behind you with hongjoong. both of them were stunned at the sight.

but before anyone could say anything, juyeon excused himself, “i’m sorry mr. jung, i don’t mean anything bad. it’s just, i’m really happy to see y/n. i’ve never been so connected in conversations other than with her.” he grinned, “though, if she was available i’d definitely try my luck.”

he laughed, forcing everyone to laugh with him.

hongjoong spoke, “well, we understand. she’s pleasant to be with, perhaps that’s why our wooyoung loves her so.” he nudged wooyoung, “isn’t that right, woo?”

“yes.” he replied dryly, earning a glare and a squeeze on his shoulder. but he couldn't care less.

“well,” juyeon clasped his hand together, “we should go in. i’m starving, and i wish to have a good conversation today with y/n. if i may?”

juyeon offered his hand to you. glancing between juyeon and wooyoung, you have no choice but to take juyeon’s hand, careful in not looking too eager. you threw a guilty look at him.

while walking inside, you typed a quick text.

y/n: i’m sorry. i had no idea he’d do that, he never does y/n: i’m so sorry baby y/n: it doesn’t mean a thing to me

ding

woo: it’s ok. (typing…) (typing…) woo: come home whenever ur done.

23.47 pm.

you glanced at your watch, sighing defeatedly. you definitely won’t be home as quick as you wanted today.

you already miss wooyoung. but you have to do this.

the alleyway was dark. the sound of your heels clicking against the pavement echoed in the air. the small restaurant was about to close, the light about to go off altogether. you lightly knocked on the door. “excuse me.” you called.

a buffed looking man came out from the kitchen, a knife on his hand. “we’re closing. what do you want?” he gruffly said.

“uhm, sorry,” you stuttered, “is mr. kim’s soju… no,” you quickly regained yourself.

“i want to talk to the soju maker himself, mr. kim. there’s this… old soju i’m looking for, which i don’t know the brand is.”

the big man stood there for a while, processing your words. he went back to the kitchen, and you heard some murmurs before he came back outside, now smiling. “mr. kim is waiting for you in the kitchen.”

the man escorted you inside, through the messy wet kitchen up until a door. he knocked on the door, announcing your arrival. “come in.” a baritone voice responded. he opened the door, ushering you to come in, before closing the door.

an old man sat on his study, his white hair tousled and a pair of glasses sat on top of his nose. his weary eyes studied your form.

“it’s been a while since someone used that code. soju maker…” he chuckled. “people usually looks for fresher soju, something done, but now you’re looking for something older. tell me, what are you looking for miss?”

he pointed the chair across him, signaling you to take a seat. putting aside your handbag, you took a seat. there’s a beat of silence, before you let your voice out.

“it’s a who, sir.” you said, before continuing.

“i’m looking for seo rim.”

(to be continued)

—

damnnnn 8 months. i have no words for myself fr😩🤚

i hope y guys still enjoy this. i feel like i should add more things, but i’m afraid it’ll make the whole thing stale ykwim

but we’re getting CLOSER and CLOSER to the main problem, aka the timeline when y/n got shot (mafia!woo y/n caught in the crossfire), which is the very first fic that started this all

anyways. TOODLES. enjoy

91 notes · View notes

skzcollision · 6 months

Text

take the breath that's true | lee felix (1/2)

pairing: non-idol!lee felix x fem!reader

content info + tw: time travel, angst, fluff, felix is called yongbok in this, wrote this when i was sleep deprived lol, violence + bullying

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

It had begun as a small lie, really. A lie so good, you believed it yourself.

"I'm taking a semester off."

You would be doing a paid internship to fill that time, so it's not like you're not doing anything because god forbid you take a break from your studies to backpack through Europe or something so useless. Your parents would have a stroke.

And then, you did the unthinkable.

You dropped out of university.

Got a full-time job at a bookstore. Began living life peacefully, all the while deceiving your parents who lived a few hours away.

The liberation you felt by doing this was nothing you had ever experienced before.

Of course, it had its drawbacks. You were practically living a lie. Because you dropped out of school, you no longer saw your friends every day. They often hung out without you, and over the years, you eventually turned into something of a social recluse.

You had one good friend from work who invited you to go out every once in a while. Each time you declined because blowing out your eardrums whilst standing in a room packed with strangers either drunk or high on something never really appealed to you.

Soon enough, you reached a place of discontentment.

Would your life have turned out any better if you pushed through with school?

That was something you wondered about every single day.

"Are you eating well?"

The line fell silent, save for the distant sounds of your mother chopping up something on her cutting board. You could hear something boiling on the stove.

You stared blankly at the bowl of instant noodles by your sink.

"Yes."

Another small lie amongst all other lies.

"You sure?" She pressed, disbelief evident in her voice. "Why don't I come over there sometime, fix you up a proper meal-"

"No. Mom, you don't have to do that. It'll just be a waste of gas, I'll be really busy these upcoming weeks."

"Well, when is your break? It's been a while since you've last visited us, you know. Your poor father has been wanting to see you, he misses you."

Your mother knew just how to pull at your heartstrings.

"I know, I miss you guys too. I'll visit on my birthday, okay? In a couple of months, I promise."

Seven years ago;

They were at it again. The three biggest pompous assholes of your grade.

This time, it was this short, lanky kid. You recognized him from homeroom.

Your eyes flitted to his so-called friends, turning away sheepishly when he looked to them for help. Just one moment ago, they were all at their table, talking and laughing.

Why was no one doing anything?

Just as you were lifting yourself from your seat to inform a teacher - someone, anyone - another boy stepped in front of the smaller one.

The bullies were blocking him from your line of sight, but you could see that he wasn't much taller than the former. They were still towering over him.

"Isn't that Yongbok?" The girl behind you whispered to her friend. "He does taekwondo, right?

"Yeah... but there are three of them. And they're double his size."

You promptly slid out of your seat, gripping onto your metal lunch tray. Your friends glanced at you in a snap, all visibly concerned. "What are you doing?"

"I'm just..." You didn't get to finish your sentence as you neared the guys. Not that you knew the answer to that anyway. You were acting on pure impulse.

Now you could fully hear what they were saying.

"Rich guy, huh?"

They were apparently laughing at the boy's choice of accessories. He wore a gold watch on his wrist. It did look quite funny on him - only because it seemed a bit too big and grown up for the boy.

Something did surprise you, though.

If he was intimidated, he was great at hiding it. It was as if they were all having a normal and friendly conversation. On the other hand, the kid behind him was close to wetting his pants.

"So, if you're done talking to my friend, we would like to have our lunch now."

This did nothing to defuse the situation.

"What did you just say?"

Sweat pooled between the palms of your hands, the utensils clattering as they shook in your tray.

Your mind flashed to the first week of school. That kid, who got beaten up so badly he was coughing up blood.

Was this just going to keep on happening?

Without much thought behind it, you drew your arms back and flung your tray at them as hard as you could.

It made an audible plunk as it collided with the back of their leader's head.

There was momentary silence before the cafeteria exploded with stunned gasps and sputters of laughter. You remained frozen at your spot, arms still above your head. Your lunch was now on his white shirt, staining it orange.

"Who the hell-"

Everyone in the room was staring at you. Your gaze fell to the boy with the gold watch. He looked afraid now.

But not for himself.

You were so, damn lucky.

One second, you were receiving the deadliest stare from the scariest guy at school, and the next, a teacher had come to break them up.

For the next few days, you went everywhere with your friends. Needed to use the restroom? Needed to grab something from your locker? The whole group was coming with you.

You had never once been so scared for your life.

One afternoon, one of your friends had overheard the bullies talking. They were teasing their leader for letting you off the hook so easily. He apparently refused to bully a girl - a cute one at that.

"Oh my god, ew. Unbelievable." You shook your head with an expression of disgust. "There's no way. You made that last part up."

"He really said that!"

Your friend next to you released a wistful sigh, pursing her lips. "I wish someone would fall in love with me right after I'd just chucked a full tray of food at them, too..."

Things weren't so easy for gold watch boy, though.

He became their target. And he made it so easy for them, too. Every time any of them had a problem with anyone, he would be there, at their rescue. Taking their place. He didn't fight back either.

You just didn't get it.

How could someone possibly endure that much? That had to have taken a physical and mental toll on him. Yet you would see him in the hallways every single day, with that same bright smile. Despite the cut on his lip.

They kept getting interrupted on school grounds, so the bullies had made it routine to take him somewhere after school. You decided to follow them one day, and you were led to an alleyway just a couple blocks away from school.

Why didn't he just run away? You had seen him on the track. He was one of the fastest in your grade.

"... just not on my face, guys."

You ran and snuck up behind some stairs, peeking over the railing.

Whatever he had said earned him some scoffs.

"Pretty boy doesn't want his face ruined."

"What a vain little shit."

Yongbok blinked widely, almost innocently - as if it was all just one little misunderstanding.

"Oh, it's not like that at all. It's just my mom... I don't want her to know about any of this."

"Alright," the biggest of them all chuckled, lip curling smugly.

Your heart twisted in anger.

"We can have that arranged for you," he ambled towards the boy.

"Sike!"

His body turned, and his foot suddenly shot up out of nowhere.

You winced with your entire self as the boy stumbled back, holding himself up against the brick wall.

"Shit..."

From your angle, you couldn't tell what exactly happened. But you knew you had to do something before the situation escalated.

You could swear your whole life flashed before your eyes as you sped towards them, yelling. "Stop!"

"The hell?"

"It's that bitch that threw the tray!"

You stopped just a few feet from them, your thoughts racing a mile a minute. A deep sense of regret - then anger, at these stupid bullies, and at yourself for not knowing what to do next and just charging at them like an idiot.

Someone then yanked on your wrist, ending your train of thought. You were forced to move on your feet again as Yongbok dragged you with him through the alleyways. Several voices followed, hollering at you - but you couldn't register anything they were saying as you were focused solely on getting away.

It felt like it had gone on forever. Fortunately, you had run into some policemen, and that managed to scare the guys away.

You now sat at a convenience store, icing Yongbok's jaw where a bruise was starting to form.

"Man, what am I going to do about this?" He clicked his tongue as he stared at his reflection. "This isn't gonna go unnoticed - and I'm running out of excuses."

You were brimming with anger once again.

"Why do you let them do that to you?"

He stared at you, dumbfounded.

"If they don't pick on me, they'll just pick on someone else."

He had said it so plainly and simply. It was mind-boggling. You genuinely could not tell if he was the bravest and most selfless person you had ever met or just an idiot. Somehow, you felt he was both.

You walked away momentarily to pick up something from the cosmetics aisle, paid for it and went to sit back down again.

"So..." You began as you gently dabbed some coverup on the bruise. "You think this makes you like some sort of hero then?"

"Hadn't thought about it that way," his eyes darted across your face absentmindedly. "I'm sorry I didn't get to thank you, for the other day. In the cafeteria."

You waved him off, cleaning your finger on a piece of napkin. "You take their hits on purpose, don't you. I can tell."

He bobbed his head, looking down at his shoes.

"And you dodge some so you don't end up seriously injured."

You sighed through your nose in exasperation. "Why haven't you reported them?"

"You don't know, do you?" He gazed out the window. "Nothing will be done about it. One of them - his father donates large sums of money to the school."

"Doesn't make him untouchable."

"It kind of does."

You hated it. That deep down, you knew he was right.

Yongbok slid a packet of ice cream towards you. "Here," he grinned. "For saving me from the bullies, twice."

Present;

On the ride home, the car passed by your old high school. It did - every time you came back.

And you were always left wondering what ever happened to that freckled boy since you last saw him.

If he was happy, and if he was doing better than you now. You hoped so.

It was comforting how much had remained the same, as if you had never left - a time machine in a way.

You longed to go back.

To the summer before you began your first year in university. The last time you were ever truly happy.

Despite it being the night before your actual birthday, your parents had thrown an event for you. So many people had shown up - neighbors, old friends from high school that stayed back.

It felt very reminiscent of the past when everyone would get together, and you slept that night content for the first time in a very long time. You dreamt of your life before, how those warm memories felt closer than ever now that you were here.

Such happiness...

"Wake up, my precious girl~"

A grin was spreading across your face before you could even fully open your eyes. You ignored the ache behind them as the sun greeted you first thing.

Your mother smiled kindly back at you, her fingers gently combing through your bedhead.

"Mom..."

"Hm?"

"Can't I stay here..." You mumbled. "Stay here forever?"

She laughed softly, and your smile grew at the sound. "Don't you want to see your friends today? They must have something planned for you."

"My friends?" You rubbed at your eyes, still disoriented from sleep.

"C'mon," she stood, patting your leg. "Let's get up. I've prepared breakfast."

With your eyes half-shut, you felt your way out of the room and sat yourself on a wooden chair.

Your mother settled a bowl of soup in front of you on the table. "Happy birthday, sweetie..."

"I have something for you." Excitement shone in your father's eyes as he pushed a dark blue box towards you.

He didn't... again?

"Dad, you don't need to get such expensive gifts."

He chuckled heartily. "Can't I get something nice for my only daughter just this once?"

You flipped the lid open and grew puzzled at what was inside. It was a simple, silver necklace with a round diamond pendant. The one you wore every single day.

The one your father gifted you a few years back. It was the first time he had spent so much on a present.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes, but dad - isn't it..."

Everything felt eerily familiar.

You shot up from your chair, and headed back to your room.

"What's wrong?"

You searched for the necklace on your nightstand where you had placed it last night, then on the floor, if it had fallen by any chance.

It wasn't there.

As you rose to your feet, your eyes caught the screen of your phone.

What? It couldn't be right. Yesterday was Friday... so shouldn't it be Saturday?

"You guys aren't... playing some sort of prank on me, are you?"

Your parents glanced at each other with momentary confusion, then back to where you stood in the hall.

"Are you that surprised with my gift?" Your father laughed, then beckoned you over. "Come on, you can put it on now. Then we can eat."

It was happening again - all of it.

The things your parents said at breakfast, you wouldn't have been able to recall it but now that it was in front of you all over again, there was no doubt about it.

Everything was the exact same.

You looked in the mirror and had bangs again.

Your phone was blowing up with the same messages from your friends in that old group chat.

This only meant one thing.

He was still here.

⭒

#lee felix #felix x reader #lee felix x reader #skz fanfic #skz felix #lee felix fluff #skz fluff #stray kids #skz x reader #skz

107 notes · View notes

quillandink333 · 6 months

Text

The Other’s Choice • Pt. 1

Credit to @winterxisxcomingx for the beautiful banner ♡︎

SPOILERS FOR HAZBIN HOTEL ~ Read ahead at your own risk!

Faced with the harsh reality of Heaven’s steadfast opposition, the angel of joy is forced to make a drastic decision with gruesome consequences, but luckily she isn’t alone for long.

WARNINGS: Abrahamic imagery (obviously), pseudocest, assault, extreme heights, hunger

Part I • Part II • Part III

An eternity seemed to have passed since Emily had taken the irreversible dive from Heaven and begun her journey through Purgatory before finally manifesting in Hell’s scarlet sky. And yet there was such a long distance left between her and the ground that she still couldn’t make out a single thing happening down below. Her stomach was achingly empty—how many days had it been? It was impossible to know without the light of the sun to let her.

Her windswept hair obscuring her vision as she fell, she reflected on the moments leading up to this. They’d done it! Now even Sera couldn’t deny the reality proven by the unrelenting efforts of the Hazbin Hotel. Yet to Emily’s fury, the old hag was still too stubborn to allow word of it to get out even among the archangels.

The newly redeemed sinner, whose name she’d learnt was Sir Pentious, had appeared suddenly in Chastity Palace, somehow becoming the first human soul in history to bypass Saint Peter and the pearly gates. While the senior seraph didn’t take well to his arrival, the younger was over the moon, wasting no time befriending him and giving him the grand tour of his new, and rightful, home above the clouds. The conversations she’d shared with him were not only groundbreaking but deeply upsetting. The upsetting part, however, wasn’t the story of his noble sacrifice nor was it Adam’s brutal and shameless acts of fascism, but the fact that she couldn’t share any of it with the rest of Heaven.

Faced with this, she’d done the only other thing she could have. If there was no way for her to serve the sinners’ worthy cause in Heaven, she would simply have to leave. And so she would, but first, she’d penned a note to her elder.

Word Count: 0.8k

“I hereby vow never to return until the right changes have been made. This is not my choice, it is my duty. Thank you for protecting me, Sera. Goodbye.”

She’d never been so cold and blunt to anyone in all her aeons of life; it had destroyed her to write it, but soon regret would serve no purpose to her anymore. With a deep breath, she steadied herself and stepped with resolve toward the edge of the rainbow bridge. She closed her eyes.

Out of nowhere, all the world came to a screeching halt, the jarring loss of momentum causing her heart to nearly leap out her throat.

“I got ya.’”

A few seconds earlier, Lucifer had looked up through the glass walls of his new suite at the hotel just in time to see what could only be likened to a falling star.

Without thinking, he’d bolted into action, racing to catch the little one right as she’d started to descend past the city skyline. She could’ve been shish-kebabbed by the spire of a skyscraper if he’d taken any longer to spot her.

His heart was pounding after his miles-long sprint through the air. “You alright?”

Emily ogled up at her saviour with wide eyes, failing to realise he’d asked her a question for a good several seconds. “Y-Yes. Uh…thank you.” He didn’t look much like a demon, dressed in white from top to bottom with strawberry blond hair and a warm red gaze. If she didn’t know better, she would think this gleaming, six-winged stranger was a seraph like herself.

“You’ve fallen,” he inferred with frantic eyes and a heavy heart. “What happened?”

But her attention was already fixated elsewhere. As the angel of joy, she possessed a divine gift that let her feel the emotions of others as if they were her own. Down below, there were people on the streets, and every last one of them was miserable. It was so much worse than she could’ve imagined. There truly wasn’t an ounce of joy to be found here. She watched as one of the wretched souls was violently defiled by another before her eyes, their cries of terror ringing in her ears clear as day. The latter’s hand clenched around the former’s neck, and suddenly she couldn’t get a breath in, a scream trapped in her throat as she could do nothing but watch. She felt sick.

Lucifer sensed her rising panic and held her closer. “Hey, look at me, you’re okay,” he urged, cradling the poor, lost princess in one arm while cupping her colourless face in his free hand. She met his gaze, her own filled with the all-consuming fear she’d had the privilege of never knowing until now. She looked like a deer in the headlights, her expression like an arrow straight to his once broken and unfeeling heart. “C’mon. Let’s get you inside where it’s safe.”

Her frail arms clung to him with a vicelike grip as she nodded and tearfully hid her face in his shoulder. At once, he set his sights on Pride Castle and took off soaring.

#my writing #applewings #pride and joy #prideandjoy #pride & joy #pride&joy #lucily #lucifer x emily #emily x lucifer #lucifer morningstar #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #emily the seraph #emily the seraphim #emily hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel emily #hazbin hotel #quillcifer 🍎🪶

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bloodiedrogue · 1 year

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FIGURE YOU OUT (1)

SUMMARY: As Spider-Man's older sister it's your responsibility to make sure he comes home no matter the state. It's also your responsibility to question strangers who claim to be versions of him from other dimensions.

PAIRING: Miguel O'Hara & Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 7,793

WARNINGS: Angst, enemies-to-lovers adjacent (if that makes sense???), minor descriptions of injury, heavy alcohol use, mention of vomiting, inappropriate language.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: OKAY SO this was originally supposed to be a hefty one shot but after much consideration I've decided it's going to read best as a series so you're getting not one but three parts! Hopefully y'all like it 'cause this is my first time writing for Miguel and I'm kind of nervous? :')))

CHAPTER LIST / NEXT CHAPTER / MASTERLIST

“May, for the millionth time I’m not—“

Before you can even finish, Aunt May’s hands are on her face, pushing on the frustrated expression that laces through her features. She’s annoyed, as per usual. Exhausted, just like the pale and veiny hands that rest beneath the dimness of your dining room light, pulling at wrinkled skin.

“I just think he’d be good for you, you know? Harry’s nice and attractive and—”

“Norman Osborn’s son?”

“Okay, but it’s not like the boy’s anything like his father.”

“That you’re aware of.”

She opens her mouth, a small huff releasing straight from her chest, knowing already you’ll never budge. You’re too stubborn like your father —like her nephew who so effortlessly had a counter for every argument he wound up tangled in. Like you, he’d fight to the death for every little thing and she knows it, causing her to merely frown.

“Fine, fine but just know you’re missing out. He’s a real catch.”

You scrunch up your face, resisting the urge to gag knowing how much May chastises you for being childish. You’re an adult now, act like it! You practically hear the words echoing through your mind as you reach for the glass of wine in front of you, gripping the stem tightly as you take a huge gulp.

“Okay then, if not Harry, are there any other men?”

You almost cough into your glass, unprepared to answer. Sure there were men. Here and there you’d had some dates and flings and almost, maybe boyfriends. You played the field like any other twenty-something woman in Brooklyn trying for their shot at love by going out to bars or hopping on dating sites. Like everyone else, you scrolled through the endless faces and bios, picking and choosing your fave ones; having moments of is this the one with far too many boys who turned out to be nothing more than just a memory.

So yes and no, you decide, telling May the latter, knowing if you choose the former she’ll get too excited and start asking questions.

“You know you’re not getting any younger, kid.”

“I know.”

You also know that you should be offended. You should be pissed off or annoyed —any sort of negative emotion but all you feel is exhaustion, considering you have this conversation at least once a week. Sometimes twice if you have to drop by May’s or the shelter.

Every time she sees you it’s as if she needs to put this pressure on you. To throw this burden on your shoulders so that she isn’t the only one thinking of it. Because if you’re thinking about it maybe you’ll do something about it, right?

“You should find someone to love —to settle down with.”

You want to. More than she knows. It’s lonely here in New York, living in your busted-up one-bedroom apartment with a brother who’s never around. Day in and day out you’re forced into a space of solitude you never asked for, moving aimlessly from bedroom to subway car to office and back again.

It’s not ideal, especially when you have to watch Peter and his double life. Sure, it’s stressful —a burden sometimes more often than not, but at least it’s exciting. At least there’s substance.

“I think I’m gonna head to bed soon. The lab needs me early for testing,” you lie, smiling tiredly, hoping that May won’t notice.

This time she doesn’t. Or at least, she feels worn down enough not to ask questions. A fact you’re thankful for as she nods her head and kisses your face, saying her usual goodbye before scurrying out the front door with a wave.

When she’s gone you let out a heavy breath, running your fingers through the roots of your hair. You’re not sure how long you can keep living this way. Flowing from place to place like an aimless ghost. It hurts too much knowing all the potentials. All the crazy things waiting for you just outside your door. More than anything you want to experience them —to live them just like Peter.

Secretly, you think you want to be like Peter. To be looked at —adored or hated, it doesn’t matter. Desperately, you want a pair of eyes to look at you as something other than you: a tired lab assistant just trying to survive. You want someone to see you, to know your worth in a way that doesn’t involve Petri dishes or DNA swabs.

You want to feel needed, you decide. Not in a life-changing way per se. More needed in the sense of being someone’s first choice like MJ is for Peter. To have that one person you can rely on and vice versa no matter the circumstance. A ride or die.

The thought makes you groan into the base of your hands as you pull at your roots, the vibrations against your skin making you pull away. It’s only eight and, embarrassingly enough, you’re ready for bed, your body weighing down in the chair you currently reside in. Already your eyes are starting close, their function slowing decreasing by the second as you reach for your glass of wine and down the rest in one gulp.

It’s disgusting but regardless you pour yourself another, already knowing you’ll need it to actually go to bed.

You don’t sleep well when Peter’s out.

Blinking tiredly you pull your phone out of your pocket and shoot him a quick text. Are you good?

You don’t expect an answer but still worry when you don’t get one, causing your body to twitch as you continue to sit, downing glass after glass until the bottle’s empty and your head starts to feel like it’s swimming through molasses.

By then it’s nearing nine. The lights of the city shine brightly through your window as you blink and rub your eyes, taking one last dizzy glance at your phone to see that Peter’s replied.

He’s fine. What’s your address?

Scrunching up your face, you stare at the words in front of you, sounding out each letter so many times that it begins to blur in your mind. He’s fine, you read, knowing for a fact that Peter would never talk about himself in the third person.

He’s not that weird.

Quickly, you disregard your rule of no phone calls in favour of answers, listening to the dial tone for a good minute before the other end crackles to life and a sigh pushes through.

“Pete, what the fuck are you talking about?”

You can feel your older sister instincts kicking in. Every worrying thought pushes itself through your brain right out of your ears to make room for a rage you haven’t felt in forever. Almost instantly it burns you from the inside out, attacking your chest with hot, heavy beats that have you standing from your chair and moving towards the front door in a rush.

As you do, the voice on the other end mumbles something you don’t quite catch, prompting you to yell.

“Excuse me? Who are you? And why do you have my brother’s phone?”

“My name doesn’t matter.”

It’s a man on the other line. An older one that sounds almost as angry as you.

“Listen here, pal, I swear to god if you don’t tell me—“

“Peter’s fine. He’s a little banged up but we’ve got it under control. Just give us your address and—“

“We? Who’s we? What the fuck are you talking about?”

Instead of listening to your demands he just groans again and asks for the address, making you groan right back and give it to him, too overwhelmed to care that some stranger and his friends have decided to take Peter into their mysterious hands.

After that he hangs up the phone without a goodbye, prompting you to respond with an angry growl that has you stomping all over the house in preparation for guests you weren’t prepared for.

“Stupid fucking piece of shit,” you mumble drunkenly, pacing back and forth through your small living room, unable to sit still knowing that something happened.

Something happened and you weren’t there to help, like usual. A thought that eats you up inside every time this happens because what can you do? You can’t fight crime like he can —you don’t have powers. You can’t heal his wounds —you’re not medically trained. So really, all you can do is offer him company when MJ isn’t around and rotate his ice packs. Make him food here and there but even that’s difficult when you spend most of your days at the lab.

Essentially you’re just another useless civilian who knows too much, leaving you distraught as you sit on the sidelines, praying to whatever god there is that he arrives home safe.

Thankfully tonight they managed to answer you in some capacity. Instead of dead, he’s just badly injured and as annoyed as you are, you’re still thankful for the outcome. Still thankful for the stranger on the phone despite the angered secrecy.

You decide when he gets here you’ll apologize for the yelling. It’s the least you can do considering he and his friends probably have to drag poor Peter’s body out of some alleyway across the city. A difficult feat you’ve done a few times over the last decade or so.

It’s not something you’d ever wish upon anyone. Not even the grumpy stranger over the phone whose gruff voice still rings through your ears as you anxiously move towards the kitchen and open the freezer, checking to see if there are any ice packs readily available. Shuffling through the frozen goods inside, you count four as well as a large bag of frozen vegetables, deciding then that you should probably wait to see the damage before even thinking of running to the pharmacy.

Out of the two of you, you’ve always been the worrier. The one whose mind constantly races at the sign of danger. Peter’s the fight and you’re the flight, and even before he became Spider-Man it had always been that way, which makes the waiting that much harder. The anticipation of what’s to come flooding you in waves of dread that leave you too unsettled to calm down.

Continually you pace throughout the apartment, moving from kitchen to bedroom to living room in an endless loop that has you swirling around in such a stupor you barely hear the window of your bedroom being tapped on.

The sound confuses you at first, knowing that it’s most likely just some bird. Peter would never make them take him up the fire escape but then it gets louder —more frantic. The tapping speed doubles as you stand disorientated in the living room, narrowing your eyes as if that’ll help your ears focus.

You realize quickly that it’s a someone tapping and not a something and immediately you spring into action, rushing to your bedroom window to see a trio of bodies all dawned in spider suits of their own.

It leaves you breathless but still active as you push up the window, breathing out heavy breaths as you watch the smallest of the three —a lithe spider with pink webs stained over white— bound into the room to help pull Peter inside.

“What took you so long?”

It’s the voice from the phone, grumbling from the fire escape. He’s taller than the others —thicker. His suit black and red with an emblem that fills his broad chest with bold lines that drape down the front of his arms.

“Give her a break man, she’s probably scared to death.”

Beside him, another Spider-Man whose suit looks more like Peter’s stands. Both of them grip your brother’s lower half, gently passing them over to the spider in your bedroom, prompting you to rush over to help.

“What the hell happened?”

He’s worse than you’d like to admit. The majority of his mask has been ripped apart. One of his eyes is completely uncovered, blooming with fresh bruises that cause it to swell almost completely shut. On his cheek, he’s got a pretty huge gash along with a few others around his chin and throat.

Immediately, tears begin to form at the corner of your eyes as they all move to lay him on the bed, making sure to be as gentle as possible.

“It doesn’t matter what happened. What matters is he’s safe. Let’s go.”

You turn to stare at him —the one who’s already caused you enough grief to last a lifetime. Angrily, you narrow your eyes, fighting the urge to yell as you watch his friends simultaneously shake their heads.

“Seriously, man?”

“Miguel, you can’t just leave her with this.”

They speak in unison, both of them matching your unimpressed response as you move in closer, pressing a finger to his chest. “I swear to god if you don’t tell me what happened I’ll kick your ass faster than you can say—“

He pinches the bridge of his nose and gives in, something that feels uncharacteristic even though you’ve just met. “He got a little beat up fighting someone he shouldn’t have, alright?”

“Alright?” you scoff, glancing between the three of them. “No, not alright. Not even a little bit. What do you mean he was fighting someone he shouldn’t have?”

“What do you mean what do you mean? Am I not being clear?”

“Not really, no.”

He huffs, loudly. A heavy plume of air pushing through his mask. You can feel it fan your face as you take a small step away, suddenly feeling overwhelmed by the newfound presence of other spider people.

You were almost certain Peter was the only one.

“Maybe one of us should take the reins on this?” The blue and red one asks, prompting the other to nod, motioning for him to take over despite Miguel’s silent protests.

“Look, we uh, we’re… we’re —how do I even start this? What do you guys usually say?”

Without missing a beat, the shortest one takes off their mask to reveal a young girl with blonde hair. She looks familiar in a way you can’t quite place, her features bold and big and full of life, giving you a weird sense of deja vu. Have you met her before, you wonder, staring at her eyes and cheeks and mouth, picking apart the details until you’ve decided you definitely have. Somewhere.

“Hi, I’m Gwen. This is also Peter and Miguel.”

She motions them to take their masks off but Miguel doesn’t budge. Instead, he crosses his arms over his chest as Peter awkwardly peels his away, revealing a face that looks almost identical to your brother’s.

Which obviously sends you into panic mode, seeing the somewhat distorted face of your brother on the body of someone else. It’s older —heavier, maybe. Unlike your Peter, this one’s eyes are filled with exhausted age and crow's feet. His lips are thinner and coated in a thick five o’clock shadow that takes up the lower half of his face. His figure is thicker, holding a bit of a gut but not enough to notice unless you’re staring.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Miguel says, but the two of them continue, moving through the conversation slowly to gauge your response.

“Your brother isn’t the only Spider-Man,” Gwen tells you. “At least in general. In this universe he is but uh, there are lots of others which is where we’re technically from.”

You look at your brother confused, wondering if he’s always known or if this is newfound information for the both of you. If it’s new, you hope he’s okay. That once he’s awake and able to process everything that this doesn’t send him over the edge of sanity.

He’s already hanging by a thread as it is. With family and friends and both of his jobs waiting in the wings at any given moment, the poor guy's constantly overworked. If he isn’t taking pictures for the Daily Bugle he’s studying at school or going on patrol as Spider-Man or laying on the floor in a heap of pain.

He doesn’t need any more stress.

“Listen, I appreciate you bringing him here but I think it’s probably best you guys go, yeah?”

You smile as warmly as you can through the fog of alcohol that has you reeling. Simultaneously, you’re angry and confused —dizzy at the amount of so many new faces. You’re overwhelmed, to say the least, and knowing Peter he’ll end up the same when he wakes up.

“Of course.”

It’s the first time Miguel speaks with any sort of sincerity, his tone dulling down to a quiet calmness that sends a chill up your spine as you watch him fiddle with a watch-like mechanism on his wrist.

In unison, both Gwen and Peter look at you with sombre expressions, their lips pushing into thin lines of almost disapproval as they watch you move towards your brother, completely forgetting that they’re even there.

“Tell him if he sees anything suspicious to reach out,” Miguel adds, looking directly at you as he says it.

Cautiously, you look back and nod your head, trying to imagine the face underneath. You bet it’s old, based on the never-ending rage that it seems to radiate. He’s got the kind of attitude an old man would have, making you imagine bushy brows and forehead lines that have developed through continuous frowns. You imagine deep scars that have sat untreated for far too long. An overlay of bruises constantly decorating his frame due to misuse of the body.

Standing next to your Peter, you imagine he’s the kind of guy who acts before he thinks. At the sign of danger, he spontaneously leaps to remedy any given situation regardless of details. He’ll do whatever it takes.

He’s a fighter just like Peter.

“It was nice to meet you,” Gwen waves before throwing on her mask. Old Peter does the same and even though you want to smile —to thank them for everything they’ve done, all you can do is nod and watch as Miguel presses the face of his watch, prompting an angular, orange portal to appear right in front of your window.

The sudden presence of it somehow stirs Peter awake, prompting him to groan next to you.

Immediately you move to his aid, kneeling near his face with concern as you press the back of your hand to his partially exposed forehead, feeling the beads of sweat that collect rubbing against your skin.

“Are you okay?”

He mumbles under his breath and moves to sit upright despite your protests. Slowly, he catches himself on the edge of the bed and swings his legs to the floor, doubling over in pain to watch as the three of them turn to face him one last time.

“You good, kid?” Old Peter asks.

“Never better,” he says back, moving to grip his stomach with his forearm, a bloodstained smile spilling across his face.

Despite the pain that’ll inevitably heal in the days to come, you know he’s being honest. Thanks to them, he’s never been better and upon hearing that you find yourself frowning, already knowing what that means.

He wants to see them again. You imagine it’s because, in some capacity or another their appearance has made the burden of his existence easier. For once, their arrival has created a light inside him you’ve only seen one other time. It was when he finally told MJ that he was Spider-Man.

As cliche as it was, he described it as this weight that had been lifted off his shoulders, and as you watch him smile at his new friends, you know that’s exactly how he feels now knowing that he isn’t the only one going through the motions. No longer is he the only one forced to navigate this life full of tangled webs. No, now he has friends. Partners that can aid him in the development of his career as Spider-Man.

People that can help him better than you can.

Before they leave Miguel repeats the statement he asked you to relay to Peter. “Call if you see anymore anomalies.” It’s phrased differently. Molded in a way you’re not meant to understand, making you all the more angry as you watch them leave through the portal.

“What does he mean by anomalies?”

Peter, now without his fellow spiders, winces as he takes off what’s left of his mask, ignoring your question in favour of repositioning himself back on the bed. Shakily, he sighs as he readjusts, trying his best not to disturb the injuries that cover his aching skin.

“Can you at least tell me what happened?”

He’s silent for a moment, his mouth half open, unable to fully close thanks to the shiner located on the lower half of his cheek. Then, he cranes his neck towards you. “Some Doc Ock from another universe showed up,” he tells you, his voice low. “I was in the middle of dealing with a robbery when he showed up out of nowhere and caught me off guard.”

You swallow hard, watching him lick his lips. They’re dry and cracked and covered in old blood that makes you want to cry because you hate seeing him like this. So tired and broken.

“He didn’t look like our Doc. He was skinnier —younger. And his tech was completely different. He kept talking about me, or I guess his version of me and I was so confused.”

“Mhm.”

“He got me a couple times. Threw me around but then they showed up and I guess sent him back home. I don’t know, by then I’d blacked out.”

His story is easy enough to follow but still leaves you with questions. How did this Doc Ock jump into your universe? Did he have one of those bracelets? Did Peter have one? And if so, has he too gone to different universes?

The urge to bombard him with every single thought that races through your mind settles as you hear his strained breath, reminding you he’s in pain. Quickly, it resets the order of important tasks in your brain, sending you flying towards the kitchen to grab every ice pack you own and start stacking them along Peter’s wounds.

Carefully you place one along the huge gash on his face, moving his hand to hold it steady before moving to his chest and placing one on either side of his ribs.

“Are you okay? Like actually, no lying.”

“Yeah, are you?”

You’re not. Not in the slightest. In fact, if it weren’t for the state he was in you’d be screaming by now, demanding more answers. Something he knows by the way you curtly nod your head instead of speaking.

“I’m sorry, Miguel can be a lot.”

Like always, it’s as if he’s read your mind, making you roll your eyes and scoff. “Are you friends with that guy?”

“Not really. I’m only really friends with Peter and Gwen. Everyone else are kind of like coworkers. They’re nice and we get along but aside from work we don’t keep much contact.”

“Aside from like, anomaly stuff?”

“Yeah.”

It’s weird to uncover such a big secret from your own brother. He’s never been the type to keep things to himself, at least with you. So why this? Why them?

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, but make it quick I’m about to fall asleep.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about them?”

If it weren’t for the pain radiating through his shoulder you’re almost certain Peter would’ve responded with a shrug. A wordless movement of uncertainty that he instead replaces with a soft I don’t know that has you imagining Miguel and his idiotic mask telling him to keep his mouth shut.

“Was it Miguel?”

It’s an uncomfortable statement to say out loud —an even more uncomfortable one to have confirmed as you watch Peter nod his head, a guilty expression plastered over his face. It makes you feel almost guilty yourself as you try your best not to explode at the thought of some asshole telling your brother what to do. At the thought of him controlling what he can and cannot tell you about his life.

You wonder if it’s illegal for regular people like you to universe hop. It probably is but that doesn’t stop you from imagining a world where it isn’t anyway. A world where you rush through a portal of your own to find Miguel on the other side.

You’d give him a piece of your mind if you could, scold him for ever thinking he could keep such a broad existence a secret. You’d push that stupidly broad chest with all your force and tell him what’s what. That no matter how important he is amongst the spiders, you’re still Spider-Man’s sister and deserve the right to know what’s going on.

“He’s not all bad, you know.”

Giving him an unimpressed look, you watch as he smiles, a small laugh pushing through his lips.

“No, I’m serious. Sure, he’s a little rough around the edges but he means well.”

“How so?”

You’re unconvinced but still curious. Who wouldn’t be after discovering the existence of other universes?

“He cares about people in his own way. Kind of like you.”

“Me?”

Should you be offended?

“What I mean is, he’s only mean because he cares like you. You guys have that same intensity.”

You scrunch up your face. “I’m not intense.”

Peter snorts as he rolls onto his side, hugging one of the ice packs as he moves to direct his back towards you, thus signalling the end of the conversation.

“Yeah, okay. Whatever you say, sis.”

Peter isn’t answering your texts and it’s starting to stress you out.

Across from you, Harry and Gwen sit chatting amongst themselves, sipping on what’s most likely their fourth or fifth drinks based on the way they’re leaning in and giggling as you call your brother for the ninth time.

It’s been nearly a month since the incident —two weeks since he started patrolling again— and despite knowing he never answers his phone, you’re still worried. He told you he’d be here an hour ago to escort you home. Something he always did when you got dragged out by the rest of the Oscorp staff. Being a woman, wandering the streets of New York at night wasn’t an option and even though you were technically a geneticist for a mega-corporation you weren’t about to cough up at least fifty bucks to get home, so Peter was agreed to be the next best thing.

Or at least, he was supposed to be.

By now you’re well past drunk. Your head is heavy and you can’t stop squirming in your chair because of how restless you feel. Your skin is hot under the fluorescents of the bar lights, their weird shade of neon pink beating down on you like a synthetic sun.

“I think we’re gonna head out,” you hear Harry say.

You must’ve zoned out because both he and Gwen are already standing, grabbing their coats off the back of their chairs with grins too big to be deemed anything other than mischievous.

You know immediately they’re going back to his place to fuck. It’s what always happens when Gwen drinks too much and decides that, just this once, she’ll indulge the boss's son. Unfortunately, though, this is probably the fifth time in the last year that this has happened, leaving you certain it’s more of a common occurrence than she lets on.

“Is Pete still coming to get you?” Gwen asks.

You nod your head, unwilling to admit that he probably isn’t. That instead of flying through the air you’ll most likely be forking over way too much money to sit in some dingy car that smells like piss.

“Okay, text me tomorrow. Let’s go for brunch!”

The two of them leave hand-in-hand, a detail that doesn’t go unnoticed as you continue to stare, trying to decide how the hell all of that started. It’s not like they’re friendly to each other. At work, Gwen is constantly complaining about Harry’s silver-spoon upbringing. Talking about how privileged he is despite her dad being the police commissioner.

A detail you’re always tempted to bring up, knowing that neither of them has ever truly known what it's like to struggle. Having grown up in big houses with paid tuitions and a never-ending family to love, their lives are completely separate from yours.

It’s why you resent them so much, you think, because growing up, you and Peter never had that. When you were young your parents abandoned you with May and Ben, falling off the face of the earth soon after. Back then you always wondered why but now you know it’s because they weren’t ready. They were young and in love and despite thinking they wanted to extend that love into children, it became quickly obvious they’d made a mistake. A mistake May offered to fix.

You liked May but she wasn’t your mom. Same with Ben. As time went on, you let them think they were your real parents, listening to them when they gave you advice; following their rules so long as you lived under their roof. You didn’t call them mom or dad but you respected them as if you did. At least up until Ben died and Peter got powers and everything got sort of complicated after that.

And since then, it continued to be complicated. Each year that passed, something new and strange always happened, leaving you there to try and pick up the pieces.

Most of it always involved Peter. Peter becoming Spider-Man; Peter nearly dying to Doc Ock; Peter nearly dying to Vulture; Peter nearly getting infected by Venom. It was like clockwork year after year, tending to the needs of your brother while trying to live a normal life.

You couldn’t imagine how he felt. Sure, things were hard for you but for him? God, it must be hell.

Which is why you feel so guilty for phoning him. He’s probably busy dealing with some more important shit like stopping murders or break-ins or maybe even more anomalies.

You really hope he’s not dealing with the last one. Because if he is it means Miguel’s in town.

God, you hate that guy.

After the incident, Peter updated you on pretty much the whole anomaly thing. Apparently, in another dimension, there was this headquarters where spider people from all over the universe came to report various issues with their home worlds.

Overall, the details were a bit confusing —you remember Peter saying something about them being a secret society and that Miguel was their leader but not much else stuck because honestly after that you sort of zoned out. At least until he mentioned that he was officially a part of it all, earning himself his own little watch.

Upon hearing that, a part of you was proud. A much bigger part though, was skeptical, considering your immediate distrust of Miguel. In that one meeting alone he was rude and weird and you didn’t want Peter hanging out with him.

Not that you had any say, because Peter does what Pete does and that’s fine even though he can be a little bit too trusting —the kind of guy that always sees the good in people. Opposite to you, his trust is extended to whoever, whenever which you know is what ultimately makes him a good Spider-Man. People see that and immediately think of safety —of security in a situation that otherwise isn’t.

As a true New Yorker, you trust no one. Not even the guy that steals the seat across from you with a smile.

“You here alone?”

Your phone is still pressed to your ear as you stare him down, the line continuously ringing over and over and over again until it goes to voicemail and you lazily repeat the process. As you do, you continue to pay little mind to the man in front of you, merely watching him glance around the building, a glass of beer tucked tightly in his hand.

“You calling your boyfriend?”

“Nope”

“Girlfriend?”

You shake your head and he grins in the way that hyenas do when they’ve found fresh meat. Under the bar lights, his teeth look malicious and jagged, taunting you in a way that makes you internally nervous but externally confident.

On the outside, you do your best impression of someone brave. Someone like Peter or even Miguel. Your forehead scrunches to form unimpressed lines, your eyes narrowing to match the way your lips tightly push together.

Across from you, the man continues to grin despite this, looking you up and down and up again with a fire so fully lit inside his eyes you can already feel the oncoming burn.

You hang up and decide to call May. It’s a last resort, knowing that once that phone rings even once you’re in for an earful. You shouldn’t be out so late, kid, you know better!

Even though you’re in your mid-twenties May still chastises you about the dangers of the city. Working with those less fortunate, you assume it’s because she’s seen some shit. The city’s a fucked up place as you know from both her and Peter but it’s not like you’re unprepared to handle it. You always have a plan! A getaway or an escape route. It’s not your fault that tonight’s plan accidentally fell through.

As you go through your contacts to click on May’s number another body takes the seat next to you.

“Hey, sorry I’m late.”

The voice sounds nicer than you remember, almost pleasant despite who it’s attached to. Awkwardly, you lock your phone and turn to look, noticing the unfamiliar features of a man you’ve grown to hate.

Damn it, he’s attractive. And not nearly as old as you imagined him. He’s probably mid-thirties tops, you guess, surveying the texture of his tanned skin. It’s nice. Not as aged as Old Peter’s but you can see some of the same lines around his eyes as he glances between you and the man across.

“Can I help you?”

Miguel’s expression says it all. Fuck off. You can see it in the way his dark brows pinch towards the top of his long nose, showcasing his anger. The kind that’s almost impossible to replicate, the man quickly discovers, prompting him to merely sigh and leave the table, admitting defeat.

Once he’s gone you let out a heavy breath and sink in your seat. Never in your life did you think you’d be happy to see Miguel, and yet here you are.

“Thank you.”

Without so much as a glance, he stands from his chair and motions to the exit with his chin. Like usual, he’s got an air of arrogance you can’t quite stand, leaving you annoyed again as you roll your eyes and grab your coat off the back of your seat.

He’s halfway out the door by the time you catch up to him. Your head, still drunk off the many pints of cheap beer you’d downed throughout the night, sloshes through the crowded room until it smacks dab right into Miguel’s back, prompting him to turn with a glare.

“C’mon, let’s get you home,” he says.

Despite wanting to, you don’t protest. Instead, you just follow him out of the building and down the street where he cuts into an abandoned alleyway and stops, checking on you with concerned eyes.

“If I didn’t already know you were also Spider-Man I’d definitely be freaked out right now,” you say, trying your best not to slur as you lean against the wall of one of the buildings. The brick feels cool against your face.

“How much did you drink in there?”

“At least five but probably more?”

“Five what?”

You shrug. There’s a moment of silence after that. One where you can feel your eyes fluttering in and out of focus, watching the way Miguel places his hands on his hips and stares you down.

You can tell that he hates you now, officially. What once was merely a single conversation gone bad has turned to two which means you’re now considered a burden. A problem.

His problem.

“I’m going to assume that travelling by air is a no-go,” he says; sighing because it means he’s probably going to have to walk you home.

Which you’re sure he doesn’t want to do considering he’s in charge of all the spider people. He’s probably got better things to do than to walk home his employee’s sister.

“Where’s Peter?”

You’re on the move again before you know it, walking at Miguel’s side, watching the way he shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“He’s out with the others. Another anomaly showed up when you called. He was busy so he asked me to come get you.”

“Why’d he ask you?”

Unfortunately for both of you, your filter is absolutely obliterated. Gone with the drinks you’d downed throughout the night. Every aspect of the embarrassment you’d usually feel right now is gone, your innermost thoughts quickly bubbling to the surface like the head of your last beer.

Miguel, realizing this, shrugs it off and continues walking. Every so often he has to stop to make sure you’re alright —you are most of the time, but every third or fourth time you begin to slow he watches as you double over knowing that you’re probably going to throw up.

“You good?”

Slowly you crawl to the ground until you’re on all fours, your hands gripping the edge of the sidewalk despite knowing how dirty it is. Beneath your palms and it’s cold and damp from the rain, prompting you to gag even harder because that means there’s probably mud on your hands. Dirty, gross mud from the bottom of people’s shoes.

You feel a hand on your back. Carefully, it rubs a line back and forth along your spine, causing you to inhale and exhale and focus on the sudden calmness of his voice.

“You’ll probably feel better if you just let it out.”

“Mhm.”

“I know it’s gross but I promise it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

As if he’s blessed you with the promise of no judgement, you vomit on the ground, feeling your throat burn with the familiar acidity. As you recover, he continues to rub your back in long, slow movements, making you thankful that at this moment he doesn’t hate you.

Or at least, he chooses not to show it.

“Thank you, again,” you mumble.

This time he at least nods, acknowledging your words as he helps pull you to your feet, giving you one final pat on the back before you continue to walk in silence.

Miguel insists on staying until Peter’s back, despite your protests.

His face, heavy with exhaustion looks at you, unwilling to budge on the matter as he pushes himself through the door. “Peter told me to take care of you,” he tells you. “So I’m gonna do that, okay? End of story.”

Now that you’re somewhat sober from the long walk home, you can feel all the hatred you have for him flowing through your system. Sure, he may have walked you home —comforted you in a difficult time but he’s still a dick. Under that sympathetic Spider-Man act he’s still the man that makes you want to scream every time Peter mentions him.

“Fine, but the second you hear anything from Peter you have to tell me.” You wag your finger at him intensely as you wander to the kitchen, feeling your mouth begin to dry up from the amount of water you’ve managed to avoid all night.

“Fine!”

He sits on the couch without another word, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt. Underneath, his watch emits a warm toned glow, prompting you to look over as he presses the face revealing a small hologram lady.

“Wow, so nice of you to finally drop by! What’d you do, take her out for more drinks?”

Miguel groans and leans back into the couch, his body practically melding into the cushions. “Is there any news about the anomaly?”

The woman crosses her arms over her chest and gives him a look —one you can’t quite place as she pulls the pink-heart glasses down the bridge of her nose. “I’ll tell you but only if you tell me how your night went.”

Her voice is full of mischief, causing Miguel’s head to practically smack into the back of your couch, his eyes finding refuge in the ceiling. He’s embarrassed, you realize then. Probably because instead of being the superhero like everyone else he was demoted to babysitter.

“The night was fine. She threw up, we walked home, end of story. Update, please.”

“We walked home, huh?” She wiggles her brows and darts around, the light from the watch moving around to get what you assume is a better look at your apartment. “Is she there?”

Even though his head is still hung uncomfortably over the edge of the couch, Miguel still manages to threaten you with his eyes. A warning you reluctantly accept as you move further into the kitchen, making sure you’re out of view.

“She’s sleeping.”

“Ooh, and did you tuck her—“

“Lyla, can I please just get an update?”

You’ve never heard him so defeated. So tired. It’s like all the fire inside of him has suddenly burnt out and all that’s left is the remnants of ash. His eyes are almost closing without warning, threatening to cut him off from the outside world as Lyla tells him about someone named Hobie and how he’s with your brother.

Apparently, they’re on Earth-58163. Another universe you know nothing about and probably never will because Peter refuses to talk about it. He always tells you it’s too complicated to explain —too intricate. “If I tried, it’d probably break your brain,” he tells you, brushing off the conversation time and time again.

It’s annoying in a way that makes you feel like you’re kids again, the child-like jealousy overthrowing your desire to be a good person and just drop it. You need to know more. To understand how this all works so that you’re not just some outsider looking in like usual.

When you hear Miguel say goodbye to Lyla you practically sprint over to the couch and plop down beside him, deciding that if Peter won’t tell you, you’ll go right to the source.

“What’s your universe like?”

There’s still a buzz sitting at the back of your brain, egging you on to set aside your differences in favour of answers.

“That’s classified.”

“Classified? Are you serious?”

“Yes, that’s why I said it?”

He doesn’t understand that you’re making fun of him. Or, at least, if he does, he refuses to comment.

“Peter never tells me anything about you guys.” You sink into the couch like Miguel, your arms resting limply on either side of you. “It’s not fair.”

“Life’s not fair, niña.”

You scrunch up your face. “I’m not a kid, old man.”

“Are you under the age of thirty?” He raises his brow.

“Yes.”

“Niña.”

There’s a moment where you think about reaching over and smacking him in the face. Just a small, lightly placed tap, similar to the one you give Peter when he’s being annoying, but immediately you retract such thoughts knowing he’d probably just yell at you.

“Just because I’m younger than you doesn’t mean I’m a kid.”

“No but it means other things.”

“Like?”

His head turns to face you, his cheek half pushed into the backing of the couch. “That you’re inexperienced.”

“I’ll have you know I’m actually very experienced.”

“That’s what someone inexperienced would say.”

“Says the guy who runs a secret society of spider people and still manages to get benched for the night.”

You expect him to yell at you then. To suddenly uproot himself from the couch and give you the kind of lecture May would but instead he just snorts and shakes his head, moving to rest the back of his head on the couch again.

It confuses you if you’re honest. You don’t know Miguel in the slightest, but based on what you’ve heard you assume he’s the kind of guy who harbours a high temper and an unrealistic demand of respect. A boss in every aspect of his life. Because of this, you assume he can’t take a joke. That he doesn’t understand the concept of teasing or banter because his ego takes it too seriously.

It throws you a bit, your mind suddenly questioning all your previous opinions. You suppose then it isn’t fair to judge him so harshly. Considering the job title, he’s probably under a lot of stress. With such a high volume of people looking to him for guidance, it’s more than likely Peter’s right. He’s not that bad.

“Okay, well, if you won’t tell me about your universe because you think I’m inexperienced will you tell me about you?”

He’s silent. Or at least dormant, his breath steadily flowing as he slides further and further into the couch. You can tell then that his body is hanging by a thread of consciousness, subtly stirring in pace with his breathing. Slowly, his chest rises and falls, pushing his elbows in tandem as his mouth begins to fall open, making you yawn.

It’s probably best you go to bed too, you decide, considering the only reason you’re still awake is to get information. If your informant is out cold there’s no sense in prolonging the inevitable, so instead of delaying you quietly stand and stretch your back. Loudly, it cracks, creaking with an age you’re certain now that Miguel would chastise you for. “You’re too young to be creaking like that,” he’d probably say.

Another yawn filters through as you wander over to your bedroom and grab an extra blanket, throwing it over your shoulders like a shawl as you walk back to Miguel.

“What are you doing?”

His voice scares the shit out of you, making you jump and embarrassingly let out a shocked squeal, your heart pounding violently in your chest.

He’s still frozen in place but this time his eyes are half-opened, looking at you with interest.

“Getting you a blanket.”

“I don’t need a blanket.”

“Okay, well, I didn’t know that? I’m not a mindreader.”

“Why not?”

He may not be Peter Parker in his universe but he certainly retains the same sarcasm, leaving you annoyed as you tear the blanket off and toss it onto his head.

“Goodnight, old man.”

“Goodnight, niña.”

TAGGING: @fandxmslxt69 (if you'd like to be added fill out this form)

#miguel o'hara fan fic #miguel o'hara fic #miguel o'hara series #miguel o'hara x female reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara angst #summer writes

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the-modern-typewriter · 2 years

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If possible, can i request a second part to the thief (magpie) x detective one? It was really great and i'd love to see more, if you feel like!

I hope you are having a lovely day!!

Part 1 here

"You look stressed, detective." They heard the smile in the Magpie's voice. "My detective."

The detective's heart leapt up into their throat. They started to straighten, to turn away from the railing of the pier, only for the Magpie's hand on their back to stop them. It was a gentle enough touch. Not especially threatening. The detective still went completely still.

It seemed impossible that they didn't remember the face of the thief behind them. They had stared right at them. Part of them were sure that, despite all evidence to the contrary, if they could just get another look they would remember.

"If you turn, I'll leave," the Magpie said.

"Not so sure you'd get away free this time?"

"No," the Magpie laughed.

The detective didn't know if they meant 'no, they weren't sure they'd get away free' or 'no, that wasn't it at all, and it was funny that the detective thought for a second that it was.'

The magpie's hand was warm against the detective's back.

Slowly, the detective eased themselves back into their previous position - bent leaning their arms on the railing, cigarette in one hand like a cliché, staring at the water. They decided to name their compliance curiosity.

They wanted to ask how come they couldn't remember the details of the Magpie's face, how they couldn't remember much of the details of their last conversation at all, but even asking the question felt like giving the Magpie an advantage. It showed how much the detective didn't know.

"Good." There was no particular teasing to the Magpie's voice, only simple praise, and it made something tug in the detective's stomach. Before they had time to overthink that too much, the Magpie's hand slid up to the nape of the detective's neck.

"Don't."

The Magpie stopped.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"Why are you here?" The detective turned the cig in their hand. "What do you want?"

"Nasty habit, smoking. It will kill you."

"Everything kills you in the end."

"Ooh, broody." That was teasing. Mocking.

"What do you want?" the detective snapped.

The Magpie's thumb grazed robber-quick over the throbbing points of tension clustered at the detective's neck and shoulder, before their hand fell away entirely. The detective wondered if the thief would be gone if they glanced around. Without the touch, there was no anchor. They couldn't hear the Magpie's breathing over the roar of the waves.

"I wanted to check on you. Your coat's thin, too. I'd get you a new one, but they'd accuse you of bribery if anyone found out, wouldn't they? Even if it wasn't true."

The detective didn't know what to do with that. They didn't know what to say to that. Had the Magpie come to gloat? They weren't especially acting like they had. Yet what else could it be? It made no conceivable for a thief to care for the detective trying to catch them, no matter how odd the thief. They were strangers, besides everything else.

"It would be such a nice coat." The Magpie sounded wistful. "Softest, warmest, most beautiful thing you've ever owned. I'd love seeing you in it."

"Costs more than my year's salary too, no doubt, knowing you."

"It's no fun to spoil you with things you could get yourself."

It was a ridiculous notion to even entertain. The Magpie was probably just...being something. Then there was the whole bribery thing, given detective's really couldn't accept ludicrously expensive gifts (or gifts at all) from thieves. Yet. Maybe, just maybe, if they let the Magpie do that, let the thief get closer, they'd get close enough to catch. Maybe they'd be able to figure out where the coat came from, assuming the Magpie was even being serious. It wasn't like any of the conventional methods were working. They hadn't been in months, and no one else had made any headway on the Magpie case either.

"Sure," they said, with a huff, keeping their voice light and flippant. "If it pleases you."

They almost felt the Magpie's stare, their pinprick attention, gem bright and needle sharp.

"Dangerous promises, that."

"Hm?"

"It it pleases me." The Magpie's voice was suddenly very close by their ear, amused and not all flippant, and the detective's mouth was dry again. It took everything they had not to instinctively turn. They felt the Magpie's breath against their cheek, the proof that they were real, no phantom, no hallucination. "Would you let me do whatever I pleased with you then, detective?"

The detective's fingers tightened on the edge of the railing. They shivered, and the blamed the biting chill of Autumn starting to deepen and darken. They took a drag to avoid saying something stupid, or making a sound they might regret. They exhaled and managed to speak, fingers and soul burning up a little more.

"You take liberties, my thief."

"I take a lot of things, we've established that." But the Magpie sounded more cheerful than before.

"Memories?"

It sort of slipped out. Impossible though it was.

The Magpie's hand rested on the back of their neck again, giving the knots of tension an expert enough squeeze that the detective sort of regretted ever telling them to stop. The Magpie's hand fell away once more.

"Don't worry, detective. I won't take more from you than you can give me. I'm not that cruel."

The detective wouldn't have been able to describe how they knew the Magpie was gone soon after that, only that they knew. They turned, and scanned the half-empty pier, and found nothing remotely out of place with any of it.

Disconcerted, and...something, they stubbed out their cigarette and headed back, as ever, to work.

The coat turned up two weeks later; a perfect fit, but not ostentatious, and utterly gorgeous. Black, and white and lined with blue. A magpie's colours.

No one else even looked twice at it.

#detective x thief #thief #detective #magpie #writing #story #fic #ficlet #short story #creative writing #stories #fiction #writeblr #writing community

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oceanbug · 1 year

Text

when worlds collide

smau non!idol ningning x reader

17. anxiety.

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"Are you going to fucking stare at me all day, or are you going to start speaking?"

Ah, that’s what Aeri meant by "you’ll know."

You start to clear your throat and formulate your thoughts. While you think, Giselle starts the conversation.

"Y/n and I aren’t dating." Oh! Okay! I guess that’s how we’re starting things.

"Ugh, Obviously. You two barely know each other?"

"Don’t act like you knew already, Ning; weren’t you the one who ran away crying?" That didn’t take very long for the conversation to go south. You weren’t going to let this meeting go to waste, so you tried to regain control of the conversation.

"Okay! Let’s just calm down a bit. How about we start off with a positive conversation? I’ll start. Ningning, I’m sorry if you felt offended or betrayed in any way by me hanging out with Giselle. It wasn’t my intention. There, now, does anyone else want to give it a try?" Both parties at the table remained silent. Ningning had an angry scowl, while Giselle was smiling brightly.

"Apology accepted? Is that what you want me to say? Listen, it doesn’t matter what I think anyway; in a week we’ll go back to being strangers. Unfortunately, I’ll be stuck with this obsessive stalker for life, but you and I, Y/N, won’t stay in contact." Ouch. It was obvious that you and Ningning didn’t have the same social circle, and you definitely didn’t plan on staying close to her after the presentation, but did she have to be so rude about it?

"You know, I am curious about one thing, though. How did someone like you end up in contact with someone like you?" She meant Giselle when referring to it, and you knew that. You gave Aeri an apologetic look, and she just returned a bright smile. I guess it didn’t phase her; I mean, she has dealt with Ningning for years.

"I messaged her on Twitter. I felt like we had something in common and could be friends."

"In common? What being backstabbing bitches? Aw, the BB club, cute!"

"Nah, being framed for being buddy buddy with your boy toy."

"Okay! Things seem to be getting out of hand." Like usual, you’re cut off by Ninging.

"How dare you? You’re still lying after all these years? When are you just going to own up to being a slut? It’s getting pathetic. How many times do I have to tell you that Wonyoung told me what you did? Yeonjun even admitted to it."

"How many times do I have to tell you she’s lying?"

"Give me one good reason Wonyoung would lie about that. She’s my best friend."

"So was I. So, why didn’t you believe me?" The room was silent. Ningning's face softened, while Giselle's bright smile faded. You awkwardly cleared your throat and began to speak. Might as well get your thoughts out now before you get cut off again.

"I know you have no reason to trust Giselle or me. I get it. But what if we could prove it to you? Prove that Giselle’s innocent."

"And how do you plan on doing that?"

"Well, in this story, the only people involved are you, Giselle, Wonyoung, and Yeonjun. We’ve gotten 1/4 sides of the story. If you tell us your side of things, we'll already have half of the story together. If we can just get the other half, I’m sure we’ll be able to prove Giselle right."

"What does it matter if I tell you my perspective? It'll just be the same as Wony's since she told me about the cheating. Go ahead, chat it up with Wonyoung and Yeonjun. Why should I stop you? Why even tell me your plan in the first place?" Ningning began packing her things and signaled to her driver that she was ready to go.

Giselle rolled her eyes and responded.

"Ning, you know getting to Wonyoung isn’t going to be easy. We’ll need your help. Please. Just tell us, what did Wonyoung tell you?"

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masterlist ~ next

(Synopsis) Y/N had never been the type to take life for granted. You grew up with the mindset that if you wanted something, you had to work for it; So getting paired up with the university’s “Rich Bitch” Ning Yi Zhuo for your midterm was the last thing you wanted. Are you willing to step into the world of fame for an A+?

taglist (open): @azraism ; @kimsgayness ; @sewiouslyz ; @winieter ; @llluvbluy ; @i06kkura ; @everydayiloveyves ; @edamboon ; @rdfgfv

#kpop x y/n #kpop x reader #ningning x reader #non idol au #aespa x reader #kpop smau #kpopsmau #ning yizhuo #ningning

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blindrapture · 4 months

Text

OH GOD THE RAPTURE IS BURNING (Table of Contents)

While this book has many names and many people in it, all the events and opinions portrayed are fictitious. Some real names were used, with permission, but only for aesthetics’s sake. People often express confusion over some of the emoticons in the story. Most are self-explanatory, but just bear in mind that every one has eyes and a mouth. .w. has the periods as the eyes and the w is related to the "kittyface" of :3, with the former emoticon intended as an expression of humble happiness (something like "Aw, shucks!"). The < in <:D is intended as eyebrows, not a party hat, no matter who tells you otherwise. This story is long. The first draft was started in 2011 and continued until 2013, the second draft finished the story in 2013, the third and fourth drafts were refinements of the whole and came around 2014. The fifth draft added a lot more content, introducing an element you'll see as the "Attacheds," and this came in 2015. This formed the basis for the sixth draft in 2016, which was published on Amazon as the First Edition. That draft saw refinement and tweaking for several years (the seventh draft). What you are looking at now is the Second Edition, the eighth and final draft. The point of all this is: I have had many opportunities to change this story. I have taken many things out. The content and how it is treated will make you uneasy, somewhere, somewhen. It is best to read this story by yourself, where you can feel your emotions rawly and give them space. Privacy is a theme here. There are many more themes for you to discover. Good luck.

OVERTURE May 20 (Modern Invocation) May 21 (Title Drop From Red Sky)

ACT I May 23 (Donnie) May 24 (The Pillar) May 25 ("world with empty eye sockets") May 26 (Aubade feat. Mistress Dread) May 27 (In Blackpool) May 28 (Cipher for a Million Years) May 29 (Everyone's Benefit) May 30 ("Cakes mean the party funds") May 31 (Tropes) June 1 (Kissing a Corpse) June 2 ("le bouffon blanc") June 3 (Great Dodongo of the Congo) June 4 (SLCEM) June 5 (Womp Womp) June 6 ("Doppelganger") June 7 (The Minotaur of Lloret de Mar) June 8 (Vorke, the Face Stealer) June 9 (Systematic Chaos) June 10 (Clearly Exaggerated) June 11 ("Promise you'll never?") June 12 (Donnie Goes to London) June 13 (missing) June 14 (There Were Strangers at the Birth of the Earth) June 15 ("How are human minds biggest") June 16 ("I'll kneel.") June 17 (Going Brazilian) June 18 (In the Name of Comcast...) June 19 ("ENGLAND'S THEIRS NOW") June 20 (Tally Marks) June 21 (Bad Jokes) June 22 (Classic Jokes) June 23 (Ten Years in Jail) June 24 (Tell Us Yourself) June 25 (Liverpool) June 26 ("Fears. There's the rub.") June 27 (Secret Friend) June 28 (The Fourth Rake of the Apocalypse) June 29 (Rael's Exodus, I: Start with the Pronouns) June 30 (Rael's Exodus, II: Indisen) July 1 (Rael's Exodus, III: Fear the Day) July 2 (Rael's Exodus, IV: EAT) July 3 (Rael's Exodus, V: The Anatomy of Everything) July 4 (Rael's Exodus, VI: Wishful Thinking)

ACT II July 5 (Duck and Cover) July 6 (American Anxiety) July 7 (Ciphers of the Blind Man's Book) July 8 (The God Machine) July 9 (School Bus) July 10 (Family Expression) July 11 (Sempiternity) July 12 (Grimaldi's Mad Language) July 13 ("Operation: Rise Against Fear") July 14 (Guy Fawkes) July 15 ("yes, quite nice") July 16 (Infinite Series) July 17 (The Grand Gtheru) July 18 (A Conversation with Tiresias) July 19 (More Tally Marks) July 20 ("red ochre corridors") July 21 (Who Once Ruled the Streetlights) July 22 (Walking) July 23 (Goodbye, Swamp Queen) July 24 (Sanctuary Francisco) July 25 (Avoidance) July 26 (See, the Thing is...) July 27 (Maybes and Mysteries) July 28 (Synecdoche) July 29 (Crotch Museum) July 30 (King Real) July 31 (Ground and Pound) August 1 (Don't Speak Its True Name, I: Peace) August 2 (Don't Speak Its True Name, II: Mirrors) August 3 (Don't Speak Its True Name, III: Colors) August 4 (Don't Speak Its True Name, IV: Music) August 5 (Don't Speak Its True Name, V: Dominiere) August 6 (Don't Speak Its True Name, VI: The Ghost) August 7 (Don't Speak Its True Name, VII: Friend)

POST WILL BE UPDATED WITH EVERY LOG

SEE THE WEBSITE VERSION FOR THE IDEAL READ

(and for bonus rambles talking about the creation of the story, see here)

#oh god the rapture is burning #ogtrib #ogtrib table of contents #gonna pin this post so i can easily grab it and edit it.

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pruneunfair · 28 days

Text

Rashta and every other manhwa mistress/OI protagonist represents us in some ways.

In celebration of season 4 of TRE being released (dear God I'm not ready for it wish me luck) I wanted to talk about Rashta (I know, how many times have I made Rashta the center of my posts now at this point) But this time it isn't to critique the series or just unhinged ranting about things that annoy me.

Ive been reading a lot of remarried empress fanfics and of course there's are a few where a woman gets isekaied as Rashta, and usually, the isekaied woman gets on her knees and starts apologizing to Navier or showing horror everytime they get reminded that they were Sovieshus mistress, I also see a lot of comments on various videos saying "if I were Rashta, I would never steal Naviers man and become her loyal maid!" Or something along those lines. In general there's a lot of people saying that they would never be horrible and Navier would accept them as a result, but if we are being realistic.. Navier would not accept Rashta as her bestie no matter who was controlling her body, and even in an Au where she does, Rashta is her maid.. so even if Rashta hated Navier from day 1, what's she gonna do as a maid? Throw water on her cause that won't go well.

Now this isn't me saying "Oh Navier is so mean! She'd never look at a slave with compassion cause she's so classist!" It's what's realistic now that we aren't looking at it through the lense of a wish fufilment. Navier is an empress, an empress who was currently in a toxic relationship at the time, trying to warm up to her and shit talk Sovieshu to her is more then likely gonna make her feel just as uncomfortable when Rashta called her sister, because if you did do that, she'd probably respond with "why are you here then?" Or just a "alright.. please leave me alone now." Because your still her husband's mistress who she'd rather just not be around, and if we aren't considering that, she's still an empress who was raised with the kind of values youd expect: an exceptional leader and child bearer, considering that Navier too doesn't seem concerned with the slaves or even straight up poverty she wouldnt think it needs fixing because those were never values her teachers thought were necessary worries, only volunteery ones, and as empress Navier would be a little cautious and selective about her companions and ladies in waiting, this isnt just a fictional thing either, most empresses and queens in history didn't become friends with every fangirl she had. But there's tons of people today who believe otherwise.

Thats the thing, it's exactly what Rashta did, she put Navier on a pedestal and expected her to welcome her in with open arms and when Navier didn't do that, she immediately went to the conclusion that she hated her. Because a lot of readers only think of the main character as the best person, you get hit with a wave of betrayal when they do realistic human things which is another point in the AU where Rashta is sent to Navier and she somehow had the idea that Navier didn't need to go to the bathroom because she was so perfect.

And it's not just being her husbands mistress that will put her off, if you were just some stranger or even a noble who in the perspective of other nobles should know etiquette, you'd be looked at with contempt by many and yes while Navier would never do anything outright cruel to a stranger and maybe even have a conversation with one, there's a good chance she's not gonna wanna be best friends forever. So as a result, there'd be a good chunk of people who act like those super fans when their favorite celebrity won't give them an autograph: disappointment at best and down right hatred at worse. This is even a point I see in other OI when the ogfl isn't so perfect and the protagonist starts to dislike them for not being the picture perfect badass they thought.

While we all like say that we would never make the decisions of Rashta if we got isekaied as her, would we really? If you can then good for you cause you got some strong mental health there but for most of us, we'd probably be upset now that we are in another woman's perspective, a lot of people would feel angry that Navier isn't the mega goddess who would understand Rashtas situation if she spoke up, they'd be sad that Navier and Heinrey do have flaws that make them into actual people and not archetypes, and most of all, a lot of us would probably still end up on the path Rashta went on or anything similar since we would likely not know any etiquette beyond what we saw in bridgerton, there's a good chance too that the language in remarried empress isn't like any language in the world, and while you could just avoid characters like Duke Ergi (which i don't count on a lot of fans doing since hes a hot pretty boy) it'd be hard to find a happy ending as the villainess that doesn't result in your getting killed, kicked back out in the streets, or at best being kept as a breeding Mare. That's what Rashta is, she's a perfect example of what we think we would do Vs the likelihood of something more realistic and grim. Something that can bring the worst out of us if we felt wronged

Remember, this isn't me shit talking Navier or even the remarried empress in general, I just felt like I reached some sort of epiphany I wanted to share.

#the remarried empress #empress navier #webtoon #rashta #manhwa #heinrey alles lazlo #sovieshu #Sometimes it's just our insane expectations for our heroes

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urnumber1star · 24 days

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OC Deep Dive!

Thank you so much for the tag @sunset-a-story here!

I think I'll do two characters. I'll do the twins Talia and Ray because I don't talk about them enough despite them being main characters.

What uncommon/common fear do they have?

Talia: She hates deep water.

Ray: Abandonment.

Do they have any pet peeves?

Talia: Just rude people. She hates rude people with a passion.

Ray: Being interrupted while he's working on one of his bots or other inventions.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

Talia: Painting supplies scattered around, her bass, snacks

Ray: Every robot or piece of tech you can imagine, books, he and Talia's homework.

What do they notice first in a person?

Talia: Their attitude.

Ray: Their face.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?

Talia: 7/10? She also goes out as a superhero along with Micheal so she does need a high pain tolerance.

Ray: 4/10. There's a reason he acts as tech support instead of actually fighting.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

Talia: Flight. If she thinks something is dangerous she will avoid it at all costs.

Ray: Fight. He's very good under pressure. He has a very strong protective instinct.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

They're twins! It's just them and their mom and dad. And some other family members that don't live in the city.

What animal represents them best?

Talia: Dog- Loyalty, kinship, bravery, perseverance, happiness, protection, and reliability

Ray: Fox- Cunning, deceit, value to humankind, and wealth

What is a smell that they dislike?

Talia: Lemon. She just hates it. She hates anything lemon.

Ray: Oil. Which sucks for him because he works with it daily.

Have they broken any bones?

Talia: Yes. She was a really clumsy kid.

Ray: No. (Somehow)

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Talia: Very sweet and helpful.

Ray: Usually quiet unless the conversation had to do with something he's interested in.

Are they a night owl or a morning bird?

Talia: Night owl.

Ray Night owl.

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

Talia: She hates lemon but she loves watermelon.

Ray: He hates strawberries but loves chocolate.

Do they have any hobbies?

Talia: Painting, playing bass, reading

Ray: Making things, cooking (He's actually a very good cook)

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises?

Talia: Overjoyed and laughing.

Ray: Confused and suprised at first before smiling happily.

Do they like to wear jewelry?

Talia: Only rings and earrings.

Ray: Nope.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

Talia: Neat.

Ray: Neat.

Sorry this was so long haha. Gently tagging @kaylinalexanderbooks, @agirlandherquill, @melpomene-grey, @mysticstarlightduck +Anyone else who wants to!

#writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr #writing community #brs #bolt runners

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iicheeze · 2 years

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Notice Me, Senpai!

Chapter 1 : The Beginning of the End

Yandere Genshin Impact X Gender Neutral Reader YANDERE SIM AU

Notice Me, Senpai Series Masterlist

A Harsh Breeze (Mondstadt Ver. ) — Act 1

The Golden Twins were always an infamous name. They were infamous for being ‘ kind ’ and ‘ helpful ’. They have solved many problems like a breeze. And many people thanked them for that. Of course, at first, they felt good after hearing a simple thank you. After all, they're willing to help for a reason.

But as more and more ‘ helpful ’ they became, they can't help but loathe the word ‘ Thank you ’ now. Many people basically forced them to help them with their problems. Saying all kinds of stuff to make them help.

“ But you helped Amber! Do you have favoritism?! ” “ But it's an easy one for you! Do you seriously think you're that great to not help anyone anymore?! ” “ Please! I beg of you! If my problem ends up getting bigger, I'll put the blame on you!! ”

Now they just help people solely because they were forced to. The warm feeling they always get after helping them ends up cold and harsh. It's warm, bright aura they have now turned into a rejecting, insufferable one.

They can't help but feel hate. They despise people. All they do is exploit others for their own needs. Their big, accepting heart turned into a hard, small stone. They can't help but feel empty on the inside. No matter what they do. They just feel as if someone has taken what they used to feel.

That was until they met you.

They were just talking to each other, too caught up in their conversation. Until they turned to a corner and Lumine's head bumped into yours, falling back, causing Aether to fall back as well.

They both fell, their bottoms meeting the hard floor. They weren't expecting anything other than the stranger they bumped to to walk away or insult them.

Instead, two hands were offered. The two looked up and saw a bright, warm smile. It's as if looking at a sunflower, loving and beautiful. Turns out, you were caught up in your book as well, yet you put it aside to help both of them up.

“ Are you okay? I'm sorry for not paying attention! ”

Your words were simple, but kind. Your tone shows that you're worried about them and genuinely feels.. sorry.

All of the time, they'd get fake apologies. Knowing fully well that they're not gonna change their behavior when they said to do so.

Yet you didn't. You felt genuine. All of you felt genuine.

When the two took your hands, they felt so full. It's as if they had a beating heart once again. Is this what it feels like? To feel? They've forgotten how it felt as it has been so long. Too long.

They felt warm on the inside, it's as if they had just ate a home-cooked meal by a loving mother. They felt so full of life. It's as if they had an empty stomach for so long they didn't know what it feels like to have a full stomach once more.

The interaction with you had long ended, as you bowed with your book in your hands and left the two alone. Yet their attention was fixated on you, and you alone.

Is this what it feels like? To feel love? If it is, it felt so.. Innocent. So bright. So warm. It felt like they've been wrapped to a blanket filled with nothing but sweetness.

Yet their warm feelings left without saying goodbye. As they saw another woman talking to you.

“ Who is that.. Woman? ”

Lumine muttered, her tone filled with toxic venom.

Why are you talking to that woman? Why is she badmouthing you? Why are you just laughing? Why are you even with her? Is she your friend? What kind of a friend badmouths you? Why? Why? Why?

She doesn't deserve to be with you. Let alone being your friend. She doesn't deserve to stand beside you. She doesn't deserve to even think about you.

“ I'm sorry, Eula. I bumped into two people earlier! I really didn't mean to be late! ”

.. Eula?

Eula Lawrence?

“ Tch, whatever. Just don't be late next time! ”

“ Awh, alright, alright. Just don't yell at me that loud.. ”

Why is she conversing with you like that? Does she really think she has the audacity to order you around?

They can treat you way better. No, they will treat you better. Better than her.

Lumine and Aether knew themselves that taking someones life will burden you for the rest of their lives.

So why do they have the urge to get rid of that vile woman?

They've been kind and patient for so long, it's okay if they're being a little selfish.. Right, Senpai?

Bound Together (Liyue Ver. ) — Act 1

Zhongli had always been a dream man. He was kind, considering, yet also calm, and content. Many has tried to capture his heart, but they always end with the same answer.

“ I'm sorry, but.. I don't feel the same way. ”

It went to the point where he became an ‘Untouchable Dream Man’ , where his behavior is captivating, but his heart is as hard as a stone. An unbreakable, cold stone.

He was in love once. It was when he was in Junior High, he was in love with a woman named Guizhong. She was kind, sweet. But of course, a beautiful flower has to die in the end.

Guizhong had long met her end as a terminal sickness came over her. Leaving nothing but a dying memory. Zhongli himself, mourned for her. But of course, he had moved on. Accepting the fact that she was the only one who could break his stone heart. For she is no more, his heart will be locked for as long as it beats.

At this point.. Can he even call it a heart?

For long, he had moved on. But he can't shake off the feeling that he feels empty. Hollow. As if a part of himself had left without saying goodbye.

But even life finds a way, as a flower can be reborn when a seed from the very same flower had been planted.

He was just taking a stroll around his new high school, trying to find the library. Until an upperclassmen bumped his way into him without paying attention to their way. Spilling their canned soda on his uniform.

“ Oh- Oh my gosh. I'm so so sorry!! I wasn't paying attention. Here! I'll dry it up. Oh gosh, that'll stain, won't it? I'm so sorry.. ”

You kept chanting apologies as if your life depended on it. Seriously, it's just a stain. He can clean it. It's not that much of a problem, really. It's not like that's his only uniform.

Although, he can't help but feel something grow inside him. What is it? He can't tell. Delight? Relief? He doesn't know.

“ N- No, it's quite alright. I can clean it myself. It's not that big of a problem, anyways. ”

Did he just stutter? Was the impact you made that big on him?

“ Yes, but still. Here! Have my handkerchief. My class is going to start soon, and please dry yourself up! Again, I'm really sorry! See you! ”

Oh, so that's why you were in such a hurry. Your class was gonna start soon.

Yet, his heart kept beating so fast, he thought it might pop out of his chest! Did he just feel butterflies in his stomach? Was it something he ate earlier?

He never felt like this. Wait. No.

He has had these feelings before.

ls this what it feels like? To be in love?

It feels so.. nice. So heavenly. So delightful. He can't help but want to make the moment last forever. But he himself knew it's impossible.

It feels like it could last forever, until a... man. Came into the view.

A teal-haired.. boy? He was short. Yet he was so friendly with you. Well, he looked friendly with you.

He was basically screaming at you for being late for class. Surely, you can't be that late. It's not even class time yet for him.

“ Well.. Technically speaking, you're not even at the same year at me, Xiao. So you don't have the right to tell me that I'm late! ”

Xiao?

Isn't that one of his.. friends?

“ Well- still! You're still late!.. ” Hearing that made you chuckle a bit. Oh, how beautiful you sound.

Yet the conversation with you and him made him feel bitter. He can't help but tighten his grip around your handkerchief. As a vein appeared at the side of his forehead.

You can't leave. You can't leave him. Not like this. Not when he can finally feel love once more. Not with another person. You can't go.

He will have you. His stone heart has broken once more, so why are you leaving him? He will not have you leave him. Not again. Not now. Not ever. He doesn't care if he has blood on his hands. He will have you, one way or the other.

Unforgiving Beauty (Inazuma Ver. ) — Act 1

Everyone knows of the Kamisato Clan. As they have made incredible progress in the small town they're in. They were the top of the food chain. As no peers can ever look down on them.

Of course, being in such a clan could result in a harsh, cold outcome.

The youngest daughter of the Kamisato Clan, Kamisato Ayaka, was always kind, gentle, yet elegant and enchanting. Of course, they see her as nothing but that.

The Youngest Daughter of the Kamisato Clan.

The Gentle Sakura of the Kamisato Clan.

The Kind, Loving Kamisato Ayaka from the Kamisato Clan.

No one ever had the courage to actually befriend her other than seeing her as a business partner or just a simple acquaintance. Leaving her alone with her back being burdened with so many things.

All she ever wanted to do was help her older brother, Kamisato Ayato. Yet, she can't help but feel tired. Tired of her life. She has done nothing but work, work, work. Education was never any better. She had always been homeschooled.

That was until her older brother decided to build a High School from the ground up. All designed to please him and his little sister.

Yet even when he did such a thing for Ayaka, which she is very grateful for, she still felt empty. People will still see her in the same light, what's the point of going to a school? Nothing will change.

Until you appeared in her life.

You were so bright, so warm, so considering.

You were the bright, encouraging fire in her cold, snowy world.

She was simply just dancing at the empty rooftop, trying to kill time during break time in-between classes.

Yet, you were there.

And you were captivated by her beautiful, glamorous dance. You couldn't help but clap for her!

“ That was amazing! ”

You haven't had the slightest idea of who the girl might be. But you did nothing about it, as you don't have any care but to embrace the moment.

Whilst Ayaka was trying to process the moment, her face can't help but heat up. Who are you? Did you see her dance? Do you not know who she is?

For the first time in her life, someone doesn't know who she is. And she couldn't even be happier.

They didn't see her as something to use for their own benefits, they didn't see her as someone to respect, they didn't see her as someone you have to be polite around.

You just saw her as equal.

And that is what charmed her.

That interaction had ended. It was supposed to be a small one, anyways. As you left by the sudden bell, indicating that the next class had started. Leaving the girl alone at the rooftop.

But she couldn’t help but think about you. Her mind is basically infested with you. What could she do to impress you once again? What could she do to meet you again? What could she do to finally be of someone’s main attention?

She needs you. She has to have you. You were the only one who could understand her. Who could accompany her. Who could finally set your attention to her. Just her.

So just look at her again, won’t you? Just her. Don’t look at anyone else. You won’t need anyone else with her around.

Bittersweet Aftertaste (Sumeru Ver. ) — Act 1

Everyone knew of the renowned Al-Haitham. He was attractive, intelligent, yet closed off and forward.

He was always known to be the popular boy who has a quite annoying personality, as not a lot of people liked to interact with him, let alone deal with him.

Oh well, it's not like he cares.

He's always liked it alone. People only talk to him when they want something. And he knows of that.

He was just going to the library to borrow some more books, as usual. However, he heard that some new books have been shipped from another country to Teyvat High. Obviously, any normal person who has an interest in books would love to read that for the first time.

As the door slid open, revealing the very same small, yet comforting library. Perfect, just the way he likes it.

He was just about to reach the book, before another hand came into the view and reached for the same book, making both hands touch.

Surprised, he looked to where the hand is coming from. Revealing a person looking at him with the same confused expression.

“ Oh- Sorry! You can have that book. I can just wait for another time. It's not that important to me, anyways! ”

Your voice was angelic, ethereal, he might say. This interaction was so simple, yet cliche. He couldn't help but cringe a little.

Yet those feelings was eradicated with an overpowered feeling of... What is this called?

He felt so full. His hands were shivering quite a bit, he felt heat at his ears, yet he also feels so light, he swore could he fly!

He felt so alive.

But.. This is Illogical! A simple hand touch couldn't have caused all of this.

Maybe it's something he ate?

He watched you leave the library, your uniform swaying by the tiny wind. A smile plastered on your face.

Al-Haitham couldn't help but admire you. Your features. Your hairstyle, the way you style your uniform, how you walk, everything.

Yet those lovely feelings was soon to be gone as he saw another man approaching, stomping their way to you.

“ Where were you?! I was waiting at your classroom, looking like an idiot! ” The short male shouted, while you just sweat dropped.

Who is he?

Why is he so rude to you? Why is he so mean to you? Why is he so cruel to you? And why are you just laughing it off? Why are you smiling at him so lovingly? Why are you even hanging out with him? Why? Why? Why?!

He doesn’t understand. He hates feeling like this, but he can’t help but want more. He’s never felt anything like it. Why does he want you so bad? Why does he want to get rid of anyone that dares to stand next to you? He doesn’t understand.

Yet he knows one thing. He need to get rid of those who dare to stand next to you, let alone talk to you!? He has to. He has to. Only HE is allowed to stand next to you! Only HE is allowed to talk to you! Only HE is allowed to see that beautiful smile of yours. Only HE is allowed to hear your laughs. Him, him, him! Not anyone else! He won’t allow it.

He's always felt that something inside him is missing. Perhaps.. You are his only fulfillment. The only thing that makes him feel like this.

So please, look at him for some more, would you?

A/N: THIS TOOK SO LONG 😭 If there's some mistakes, please tell me!!

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x male reader #genshin impact x female reader #genshin x you #yandere genshin #genshin x male reader #genshin x reader #yandere genshin x female reader #genshin x female reader #yandere simulator #yandere genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x gender neutral reader #yandere genshin x reader

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