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cxptain-capsicle · 2 months

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Beyond the Sea | Luke Castellan | II

Pairing: Luke Castellan x Unclaimed Poseidon Daughter!Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, slow burn flashbacks, established relationship present day, Gods being terrible parents

A/N: If you are new around here I love taking suggestions and incorporating your guy's ideas and headcannons in my series so feel free to leave thoughts in my inbox!

Series Masterlist Taglist

“So all of the major 12 gods have their own cabin where their children live. Children from one cabin can’t go into another god's cabin.” Luke explained as he walked you down the aisle of houses. “This one is ours.”

“Ours?” You raised your eyebrow questionably.

“All the new arrivals stay here, in the Hermes cabin.” Luke gestured towards a cabin that was much larger than all of the others. It wasn’t nearly as elegant as the ones around it but it felt warm and welcoming. It looked like a simple log cabin with a large front porch held by tall log columns. On the front of the house was a large green banner with a Greek symbol in the center. Over the door a semi-circle stained glass window that reminded you of the ones in the Big House. The cabin looked a little run down but that wasn’t shocking considering the amount of kids running around inside. Walking inside felt like entering a circus tent. There was yelling, laughing, singing, kids running around, hanging upside down from bunk beds. Even with the chaos it still felt cozy. The inside was dimly lantern lit, the walls were paneled with dark wood, in the center was a large fire pit that made the whole room feel like a warm hug. You followed Luke further into the cabin as several heads turned to look at the new arrival.

“Here,” Luke said as he led you to a bed and dropped the few things that you had on the bed. “This one was mine, now it’s yours.”

“You’re giving me your bed?”

“Yeah, why not?” He shrugged. “I’ll move to the top bunk, it’ll be nice to have a change.” He was humble. He was willing to give you one of the only things that was his and he didn’t want any praise for it.

“Thank you.” You meant it, and you didn’t know what else to say.

“Everyone!” Chiron announced as he trotted into the cabin doors. “Your attention, please. This is Percy Jackson. I trust you will see to whatever he needs.” Everyone stared at the sandy-haired boy awkwardly. Everyone in the Hermes cabin was used to this by now. New kid comes in, new kid gets claimed, new kid leaves, and the cycle continues. Within seconds everyone went back to their conversations although many of those conversations now included the word: Minotaur.

You and Luke glanced at each other unsure if you should say anything to the boy.

“He shouldn’t be alone.” You whispered to him. “Grover said the Minotaur killed his mom.”

You followed Luke as he made his way to the boy, who sat up quickly when we approached.

“Look, if you want to give me a hard time, just do it tomorrow.” He said before either Luke or you could get a word out. “I can't do any more today.”

“Heard what happened to you on the hill.” Luke said slowly, arms crossed over his chest. “And I just... wanted to say I'm really sorry.”

“I know what you're going through.” You chimed in. “Believe me, I really do.”

“I'm Luke.” He reached out to shake the boy's hand.

“Percy.” He hesitantly grabbed Luke’s hand.

“Y/n.” You couldn’t help but smile at him. He reminded you so much of yourself when you first came to camp so many years ago.

“Rise and shine!” Luke’s voice boomed above you. You groaned and turned away from him in an attempt at protest.

“Five more minutes.” Luke chuckled at your words but he didn’t take it for an answer.

“C’mon.” He ripped the blanket off of the bed. “First day at camp, gotta make it count.”

“Luke!” You shouted, the cold air shocking your body. “Do you make it a habit to torture the new campers?” You groaned as you rolled out of bed and began to put your shoes on. Luke was already geared up and ready to go, twitching with excitement.

“Only the ones who make it easy.” He smirked.

“Screw you.” You reached to grab your pillow and threw it at his face. It caught him by surprise causing him to stumble back, making both of you laugh.

“Maybe you’re an Ares kid?” He faked injury dramatically. “We’ll find out today.”

“What?” That piqued your interest. Ever since you arrived at camp yesterday you couldn’t stop thinking about getting claimed.

“We’re gonna figure out what you’re good at. Maybe that’ll help us figure out who your parent is.” Luke explained.

“Where do we start?” You stood up with excitement.

“Breakfast.”

The two of you made your way to the mess hall, it was much more crowded this morning than it was the previous day. Each of the tables were nearly full with kids chatting over breakfast.

“So what’s your story?” You asked Luke as you sat down with your breakfast.

“What do you mean?” He chuckled slightly.

“Your story.” You repeated. “How’d you get here?”

“Well,” He sighed. “I’ve been here for 3 summers.” He pulled at the necklace around his neck with three colored beads strung on the brown cord. “I came here with Annabeth, an Athena kid.”

He gestured over to a girl a few years younger than you sitting at the Athena table. “And Thalia, she uh- she didn’t make it.”

“Oh,” Your voice trailed off. “I’m sorry Luke.”

“Thalia died getting us to camp safely.” He continued. “She died a hero.” An uncomfortable silence fell over the table. “Then I got here, got claimed by Hermes.” Even mentioning his father seemed to send chills down his back.

“What happens if I don’t get claimed?” The thought had crossed your mind more than a few times.

“Well,” Luke shifted in his seat. “It doesn’t happen too often but, you’d stay in the Hermes cabin. That’s where all the unclaimed kids stay.”

“Well if that’s the case, I’ll need to move beds because you snored above me all night.” You teased.

“Oh no way I’ll just follow you wherever you go.” He said as he took a big bite of his breakfast. “So who are we looking for, a mom or a dad?”

“I’m not sure.” You said through a bit of toast. “I was left at a firehouse as a baby so I have no idea who my mortal parent is either.”

“So where did you live?” Luke leaned onto his elbow on the table in interest.

“Foster families, group homes, things like that.” You explained. “Until monsters would trash them and I’d get blamed for it and get moved.”

“Well, we can’t rule out any god but we’ll start out with the olympians. We’ve got a lot of work to do,”

After breakfast Luke led you all around camp. He took you to Arts and Crafts and sat you down at an empty sheet of canvas and easel with a bowl of miscellaneous fruit in front of it. Luke went around to the front of the easel and knocked the bowl onto the floor.

“I have a better subject for your painting.” He stood in front of you, placed his hands on his hips and looked to the side triumphantly. The pose of a hero. You laughed at him and did your best to capture him on the canvas. You tried to take your time but Luke quickly started complaining that his arms were hurting and urged you to hurry. The top half of the painting was pretty good, you could tell it was Luke, you even captured his smug smirk which made you smile. As you went down the painting got more rushed and sloppy but you blamed Luke for that.

“Tada.” You said enthusiastically as you took the canvas off the easel and turned it around to show him. He came up quickly to grab it.

“You didn’t fully capture my good looks, but other than that it’s pretty good.” He shrugged and you laughed and smacked his shoulder with a paintbrush. “So maybe an Apollo kid.” He took the canvas from you and rolled it up, saving it for later in his bag.

Luke continued to lead you around camp trying everything he could think of. He took you to the forge and quickly decided you were likely not a Hephaestus kid after you struggled to even make a dent in the hot metal. He took you to the archery range and despite never holding a bow before, you weren’t too bad. Artemis could be a maybe. He took you to a little training obstacle course by the arena designed to test speed and agility. You did your best but got hit by multiple bags of sand that were built to resemble flying harpies. So Hermes is a no. “Well, we’re definitely not siblings.” Luke laughed as you got hit by a sandbag that toppled you over. For whatever reason that felt very relieving to you. He took you to the strawberry fields where you propagated a few berries. Possibly Demeter. Finally Luke wanted to test your swordsmanship. You were excited for this. Only being here a day and a half you had already heard of Luke’s skills with a sword. Having been on the run from monsters basically your whole life you had gotten pretty good at fighting,

“We’ll get some swords and go to the woods to practice.” Luke told you on the way to the armory.

“Why are we going to the woods?” You questioned.

“So I don’t embarrass you in front of everyone when I beat you.” He smiled widely.

“I hate you-” You laughed but were cut off by someone yelling from up the hill.

“New girl!” Another girl shouted. As you kept walking closer she became easier to see. She was dressed in full greek armor and wore a helmet with a bright red crest. When she took off the helmet her dark curly hair slipped out and gave you a better look at her face.

“Her name is Y/n,” You swore Luke was scowling. “Play nice.”

“Am I not allowed to meet the girl we almost died trying to find?” She faked offense.

“You were in the cave.” You remembered. “You thought I was dead.”

“You looked dead.” She shrugged. “So what are you two doing out here?”“Y/n’s gonna try her hand at some combat.” Luke explained.

“Perfect.” Clarisse said menacingly. She grabbed a chestplate off the rack and held it out to you. “I’ll take the first round.”

“Clarisse, I don’t think-” Luke started but you cut him off.

“Let’s do it.” You eagerly took the chestplate and a sword off of the wall. Something about Clarisse invigorated you. Luke looked at you wearily but figured he was quick enough to stop Clarisse before she killed you. You and Clarisse were stationed about 6 feet away from each other, you armed with a sword and her with a spear. Before you even realized you’d begun she stormed forward, her spear pointed towards you. You took a step to the side to avoid being impaled and she quickly redirected the tip of her spear to follow you but you went under the head of the spear with your sword blade, sending the tip of her spear towards the sky. You took a swipe at her with your sword but she quickly deflected. While you were recovering from your failed attack she slashed the head of her spear down. You stepped back to avoid the spear hitting your face but the tip of the spearhead tore into your shoulder causing you to whine in pain.

“Y/n!” Luke cried out and he began to run to your side but you held out your hand telling him to stop. Your face flushed hot with anger. You weren’t mad at Clarisse, it was a fight and people get hurt. You had always been easy to set off especially in competition.

“It’s just a cut,” You stared Clarisse down. “Let’s keep going.”

“I like this girl.” She laughed before rushing forward again with a giddy smile before taking a stab at you. You took one hand off of your sword and grabbed the shaft of the spear as tightly as you could. She pulled and pulled but couldn’t get the spear free from your grasp. You picked your foot up and landed a hard kick in her stomach sending both of you flying backwards. Despite your best efforts you lost grip on your sword but went down with the spear. You both stumbled to your feet and when you did were both met with a blade under your chins. You with her spear and her with your sword. A draw. She laughed and lowered the sword and you did the same.

“Good to know we didn’t risk our lives for someone completely useless.” You thought that was a compliment coming from Clarisse.

“Let me see your arm.” Luke panicked as he rushed over to you. He grabbed your arm and began examining the cut on your shoulder. The cloth of your Camp Half-Blood was torn and the gash was bleeding much more than you had realized. “Let’s get you to the big house.”

The entire walk to the big house Luke muttered under his breath how it was so stupid to fight Clarisse and it wasn’t until after a few of the Apollo kids treated your wound he admitted that he was impressed. Saying that of course you still couldn’t compare to his sword skills.

I would love to hear feedback! <3

Taglist: @fudosl @lenasvoid

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #pjo fandom #pjo series #luke x reader #percy jackson show #percy jackson x reader #luke pjo #pjo x reader #pjo x you #pjo

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lxgentlefolkcomic · 1 month

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First page || Previous page || Next page

Start reading Episode 1

Dialogue transcripts:

Panel 1

Van Helsing: …And another thing: Do not forget to write! At university it is oh! So lonely. And remember, I am but a boat trip away for when you shall need me.

Panel 2

Van Helsing: Meanwhile you, friend John, bear the duty to keep an eye out for new danger for the youngest.

Panel 3

Jack: Thank you, professor. But we are all equally capable, and we work best when we all stay vigilant for one another.

Panel 4

Van Helsing (offscreen): Ah, indeed friend John. The old cat goes, but her kits have learned to hunt well.

Panel 5

Arthur: Yet I cannot help but wonder… if a new evil emerges, can we face it with just the few of us?

Panel 6

Arthur (voiceover): With just one enemy, we lost Lucy… we almost lost Mina and Quincey… and he killed so many more.

Panel 7

Mina: And the reanimated king took all of us in this house to stop him. He nearly killed the Nortons… and Jonathan.

Panel 8

Irene (offscreen): Which brings us to something Mina and I discussed earlier…

Panel 9

Irene: We believe we should form a league.

#lxgf #lxgf interlude 1 #story updates #lxgf abraham van helsing #lxgf jack seward #lxgf arthur holmwood #lxgf quincey morris #lxgf mina harker #lxgf jonathan harker #lxgf irene norton #cw blood

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cielelyse · 3 months

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Favourite 5 Saezuru Scenes

I recently reread Saezuru for the umpteenth time and just needed to gush about it like a crazed person who constantly hallucinates about Yashiro being happy and soOooOOooo.................

1. Why now? (Chapter 25)

These 3 panels kill me always... although it's the entire chapter 25 actually, and not just these panels. This broke me when I first read it nearly a decade ago, and it breaks me every time I reread it. I recently just listened to the drama CD for the first time and wanted to hear how this scene played out (a.k.a. wanted to hear Yashiro moan wkegh;ghwle) and I did not expect to start bawling and sobbing uncontrollably when his flashback appeared. WITH THE MUSIC AND EVERYTHING. THEY DID NOT SPARE ME. FUCK. What was supposed to be a tender and gentle and loving and intimate scene between them turned into Yashiro facing the effects of his childhood trauma -- that will never cease to hurt me. Doumeki saying "kashira, kashira, kirei" right before that broke me in a way reading that scene in English couldn't. I WILL NEVER GET OVER THIS and if I keep writing about it I'm gonna cry again so:

2. Car ride back from Kageyama's clinic (Chapter 4)

This is mostly for nostalgic reasons, really. I first read Saezuru in 2013, and I wasn't used to Yashiro at first. I didn't know what to make of him.

So what happened was that I read "Don't Stay Gold" first and was like... there's a manga about this mildly threatening and unreadable yakuza dude who's Kage's friend…? Who played cupid for him in a weird way? HMMMMM dubious, dubious. Would I even like him? It took me a while, but I finally gave Saezuru a shot anyway, and I remember feeling uncertain about Yashiro up until those panels. I remember it so starkly, because this was the instant I fell in love with him. I think it was because this was the first time I understood the depth of his loneliness (since I hadn't read his high school oneshot yet at this point).

There's just something about how Yoneda Kou-sensei draws these kinds of pages that just resonates with me so well. I CAN'T EVEN DESCRIBE IT. It just connects with me the way Yashiro connects with me, and that was pretty much it for me. Obsession sealed. Life signed away. For the next 10 years I would follow the story closely and routinely check every few months for updates. Yashiro became one of my only 3 comfort characters, and rereading Saezuru always gives me a catharsis and sense of peace that I didn't know how to find elsewhere.

3. "To go on living this strained existence... no longer holds any meaning to me." (Chapter 34)

This scene is one that I come back to every time I'm down. AM I A MASOCHIST? I really like the June translation too: "To go on living this strained existence no longer holds any meaning to me." I think the way the panels divided up those thoughts were brilliant!

This especially hurt me because for the entire manga up to this point, Yashiro has stated that he completely accepts himself and he's happy with who he is. It wasn't until his realization during the sex scene with Doumeki and how much he's said/done hurtful things to Doumeki afterwards -- who he considers pure and sweet and good -- that he thinks this.

4. "Falling in love feels like this" (Chapter 33)

The first time I read this, I had to set my PC down, go out to my apartment balcony, and just silently stare out into the night and resist the urge to smoke (that was half a joke) (I did feel a pang in my chest though) (and I did have to fight very hard not to smoke lwkehg;hge). I love the dialogue right after these panels too, when Yashiro said, "Your sister was lucky that you were there." That, along with Doumeki's reaction, hurt.

This was such an intimate scene between them. Yashiro was so vulnerable. So was Doumeki. I hadn't realized this until I reread Saezuru this year, but these two have always had such intimate scenes right from the start. It was a slow burn, yes, but they had always been instantly drawn to each other: Doumeki thinking Yashiro was beautiful and captivating, and Yashiro doing something he doesn't normally do with his subordinates the first time he met Doumeki. And it didn't clue in for me back in 2013, but their conversations with each other were much more intimate than the conversations they'd have with anyone else, right from chapter 1. I find that so precious.

5. Dream (Chapter 40)

I couldn't not include a scene from post-timeskip, BECAUSE I LOVE POST-TIMESKIP. I love Darkmeki and I love Yashiro and I love that the theme of post-timeskip centers around "change". Wish I could include that conversation Yashiro had with Tsunakawa about it, because I thought that drive-home was brilliant. I really appreciate that Yoneda Kou didn't have Yashiro and Doumeki get together right away after they have sex, and I really appreciate that the question was raised of: Do people change? Can people change on their own, or would you have to force them? Or are we always the same at our core? And I think the answer is of course a mixture of all of it, and that it's very much circumstantial and subjective, but I love how we're able to see the shifts in both Yashiro and Doumeki. How both men aren't quite the same people we knew pre-timeskip. Ten years ago I didn't think I would meet a version of Yashiro that wouldn't talk about sex 24/7, but here we are.

(Not to say that they're completely different now. They're still our Yashiro and Doumeki of course; I just wanted to gush about how well Yoneda Kou were able to flesh out her characters in such a complex, multidimensional way.)

ANYWAYS, I went on a rant without even mentioning these panels of Yashiro's dream. I love everything about it: Doumeki's face not showing, Yashiro running away and turning back to see Doumeki not there anymore, and that last panel of him standing in the middle of nowhere, lost and empty and lonely -- all of that was so incredibly told in pages of no words. UGH YONEDA KOU IS A GENIUS. It reminds me of that page of Yashiro looking at a mother and child in the rain; it's one of my favourite scenes too.

Honourary Mention (Chapter 4):

I should end with a more light-hearted one. THIS WAS CUTEEEE. I remember reading this for the first time and thinking Yashiro was just salty that his roleplay got ruined. But upon second reread (and maybe I'm delusional here), I thought he might've been happy to hear Doumeki say that.

We know Yashiro gets angry and irritated whenever he's happy to hear something sweet from Doumeki (like that extra when they ate together LOL), and that he had the same reaction of kicking the chair when Doumeki said he can't touch Yashiro's hair anymore. Which was cute to say. So I thought Yashiro might've lashed out in annoyance because he was glad that Doumeki doesn't mind. (I tried putting myself in Yashiro's shoes so many times trying to imagine how I would feel if Doumeki had said this............. and somehow came up with "happy" xD)

...........or maybe this was obvious to everyone and I've just been clueless. AAAAAAAA THIS IS WHY I LOVE ABOUT SAEZURU SO MUCH. It never spoon-feeds you information and lets its readers interpret :")

#saezuru tori wa habatakanai #yashiro #doumeki chikara #囀る鳥は羽ばたかない #twittering birds never fly

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dpr-stay · 10 months

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Through the years | D.K

Doh Kyungsoo x f1driver!Reader

Warnings: Swears, a lot of crack

WC: 9.1k (ik, kill me now)

Howdy Cowpeople! This one is... hefty. This wasn’t supposed to be as long as it was but when I get in a groove... I think I made it obvious but I just wanted it to be over L O L. This one is pretty niche, but hopefully it can be enjoyed by both sides as it is a driver!reader.

(I didn't edit this, whoops)

2015

“Can you explain this picture?” The reporter asks, hovering in front of you with a phone in hand. The crappy quality is amplified as they have zoomed into the point where the picture is unrecognizable. You squint your eyes to see it and can’t make out quite what they’re trying to show.

“Sorry, w-what is that?” You ask, drawing back and squinting your eyes, resisting the urge to close them from exhaustion. Whoever decided it would be a good idea to do interviews after nearly 100 continuous laps in some barely held together race car with no break was a sadist. No other explanation.

“Oh! It’s a picture of you in a car with a guy.” The reporter said eagerly and shoved the phone your way. You briefly looked at the camera, an unimpressed look on your face, before turning back to the phone and squinting again.

You paused for a minute and drew back, your face still scrunched up, and exhaled.

“Nahhhhhh.” The drew out word left your mouth.

The reporter’s head tilted and they frowned.

“But it is! It’s you in Seoul after the Japanese Grand Prix!” He continued, looking very determined. You plastered a confused expression on your face.

“I’ve never been to Seoul before.” His face dropped and he turned back to his phone, as though trying to rationalize what he was hearing.

“Have you just taken a picture of… two random people in a car? To me it honestly doesn’t even look like anything cause it’s so zoomed in but to each their own.” You finished your words with a shrug.

“No, my source told me that that was 100% you! They said they saw you get in the car at the airport.” He continued on, undeterred by your flat disregard.

“I hate to say it, your contact’s wrong. I’ve never even set foot in the country.” You shrugged before turning to your PR manager who was gesturing for you to leave, with rather forceful movements. That was to clue you in that you were in trouble. With her personally or with the boss man, you didn’t know.

“Lovely to see you again, though.” You smiled and held your hand over. The interviewer tentatively took it and you exchanged good-byes before you turned around and left to go onto more interviews. The glance you exchanged with your PR manager told you that you were lucky you had not been caught out on your multiple lies and you heaved a sigh of relief to yourself.

Being the only female driver in a heavily male dominated sport was incredibly stressful. Add to that the eyes of reporters trying to find you doing anything remotely weird to spin it into a scandal and you had a lot of things to worry about. Especially since you had just started a relationship with a highly coveted Kpop singer which you were determined to keep under wraps.

You both had a bet running with each other. The first person to reveal the relationship would lose. There was no consequence but your pride, something which both of you had a bit too much of.

And so, a game was born. It simultaneously made you more careful of revealing your relationship while also making it a fun game.

This also meant that you had to start constantly lying to reporters to get out of tricky situations. Surely nothing bad could ever come from this.

2016:

“How does it feel to be a key contender for the championship?” Asked a reporter, directing it to, of course, Lewis Hamilton, who was sat beside Daniel in a panel of drivers. You were sat on the other side of Daniel, the small desk in front of you reaching for miles on either side.

As Lewis gave the carbon copy response that he had given to every interviewer so far, Daniel leaned over to whisper in your ear.

“I’m surprised they haven’t called him out on that yet.” He then reached for his plastic water bottle and took a sip. You considered this for a second before leaning to his side and answered, not turning your face from the crowd of reporters.

“I’m surprised they haven’t called you out on your disgusting trim.” He jolted forward at this unprompted attack on his hair and the choking sound he emanated drew attention from all in the room, all watching him with curious eyes as he tried to regain his breath.

“You alright mate?” Lewis asked, one of his eyebrows arching.

“Y-yeah I’m fine.” Daniel replied, waving his hand, eager to have attention off of his spluttering. It took a while but eventually all the cameras were aimed back at Lewis, so Daniel took the opportunity to elbow you hard in the side, your reaction being to topple off your chair dramatically. Usually one for the dramatics, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen Daniel want the cameras off him so much.

Hidden behind a small desk, you could only hear the questioning tones calling out your name and see Daniel’s slightly panicked face urging you to get up and back on your chair. With one single hand, you reached for the desk and slowly pulled yourself up.

You released a deep breath as you hauled yourself into your seat and turned to face the crowd of reporters who were looking at you. With a grand hand gesture, you motioned for them to continue with their interviews and turned slightly to Daniel with a smile. He shot you back an exasperated glance before your name was called from the crowd of reporters. You looked towards the reporter and he began speaking.

“So, as you’re the only female on the grid I feel the need to ask, if you could date any of the drivers, who would it be?” The eager face he had contrasted with your entirely unimpressed face. You could hear Daniel begin to start speaking and you could feel the defensive energy emanating from the rest of the drivers on the panel, but before any of them could interrupt with scathing criticism about the misogyny that permeated the question, you replied to the reporter.

“Literally none of them, I’d rather die.” Your response was met with general silence before Daniel started laughing as usual.

“Really? You wouldn’t fancy any of them?” The reporter asked, almost in disbelief.

“No!” You said almost equally in disbelief.

“I’m fine with what I have at home!” You added on after a second.

“Are you saying you’re in a relationship???” The reporter was on the edge of his seat, others shoving their microphones and cameras trying to get a good shot. You dramatically pondered that for a second before replying.

“I wouldn’t say that, I just have other things at home.” You said that and then leaned back, shrugged, and didn’t say anything else into the mic even at the reporters continual uproar as they took in the implications of that statement.

You, luckily, were able to avoid the increasingly weird questions by just not answering and smiling. You weren’t as lucky to miss the smirks thrown your way by the other drivers.

2017:

“It doesn’t count!” You said in disbelief, aiming it at the microphone of your phone.

“Mmm I’d say it counts.” Kyungsoo replied back teasingly, his voice echoing into your AirPods.

“You can’t go back on your word!! You said it was fine last year!” You were sitting at a table in your company's hospitality, having a conversation with Kyungsoo on the phone, blissfully unaware of the interviews going on outside the building which had a clear view into the small area.

“Yeah but it’s been two years, one of us has to call it quits soon.” Your face contorted before Kyungsoo quickly amended his statement.

“The bet! The bet! Sorry, that came out the wrong way.”

You just shook your head, a small smile growing on your lips.

“You bastard, you had me a little worried.” He scoffed in response. He had been speaking quietly into the phone as he was hiding in a closet in the SM building, taking a break from practice to talk to you. A true charmer.

“As if.” He replied shortly, a loud scuffling heard on his side.

“One second.” He said, as a banging sound came through into your headphones.

“Come on Hyung! Get off the phone and come back before someone else finds you!” Kai’s voice could be heard through the door. A pause before the banging started again.

“Also tell her I said hello!” You giggled at the younger man’s words and Kyungsoo’s sigh in response.

“I’ll call you after the race, do your best, I love you.” Kyungsoo muttered into his phone before shouting back to Kai something about respect and to shut up. It just made you laugh more.

“I love you too, practice well and I’ll call you soon.” You finally said in response after the yelling died down.

“Bye.” He said before quickly tacking on another “love you” and then he hung up.

After he hung up you just stared at your screen for a second with a smile you would 100% not call radiant on your face. It was quickly wiped off when your PR manager popped up out of nowhere and started talking about interviews, causing you to switch to English as you stood up and followed him.

However, the interview still captured your little moment and the conversation preluding it. You knew this because, when you went back to your phone after the race, Baekhyun had sent you a picture of your smile through the tinted glass with a smirking emoji as well as a picture of Kyungsoo on the floor in the closet in the dark talking to you on the phone, not to mention the hounding you got at the next press conference.

2018:

You knew it was risky to do a live in your own apartment, especially since you were in a completely different country than where you were claiming you were.

But your PR team wanted you to do it, and you couldn’t exactly tell them no, even if you were currently lying to them about your circumstances. You were a bit worried that something unexplainable might happen like the South Korean national anthem suddenly blaring but what you weren’t worried about was the person who you were living with coming back and interrupting your live.

Kyungsoo was at practice and, while you were ok with him skipping it to talk to you on the phone, you didn’t want him to skip it now, as you had been promised a few days without any interruption if he went to every practice. So he was at practice and you were fulfilling all your expected PR duties for the next couple of days, which included the live.

Regardless of your hesitations, you set up your phone on your coffee table facing the entrance to your home and sat on the couch before turning on the live. Immediately people joined, flooding the chat and making your phone vibrate.

“Uhhh hello everyone.” You awkwardly greeted as you tried to think of things to say. Kyungsoo would be fantastic at this, you couldn’t help but think, always having to do live’s with his members.

“How’s everyone’s days been?” You settled on and watched the responses roll into the chat. You noticed a few drivers had joined your live and even a few of the boys from F2 and F3 were watching, which you thought was pretty nice of them considering it was mainly you rambling for around 30 minutes.

Your manager wanted you to do an hour minimum for the live and the time seemed to stretch for years, you continuously making small talk and occasionally replying to comments. You even snuck in a few jokes for the other drivers before, around the 55 minute mark, a sound came from your end.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you wondered where the noise was coming from, looking around the apartment. Quickly standing up, you looked around the apartment, making a lighthearted joke about ghosts as you nervously tried to find the origin of the sound.

You realised that sound was the wrong key being put in the lock as soon as you registered the sound of the correct key being put in.

As Kyungsoo opened the door, you made the biggest leap you think you have ever made. It would’ve had to have been around 4 meters surely. Somehow you had leapt onto the coffee table, knocking your phone down. Kyungsoo was staring at you weirdly as you violently gestured at him to shush. He raised an eyebrow.

“Are you ok?” He asked, his deep voice sounding as lovely as ever. You took a second, contemplating your options in this circumstance before coming to a logical conclusion.

You started to scream.

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!!” Kyungsoo’s face shifted to one of confusion as yours was full of desperation.

“YOU CRAZY PSYCHO! GET OUT!!” You continued to yell in perfect English, a contrast from his peaceful question, and gestured for Kyungsoo to close the door, which he did, albeit very confused.

As soon as he closed the door, you maneuvered yourself so that you weren’t facing him and quickly picked up your phone from underneath you.

“Oh my god, what just happened.” You said, showing the camera your roof. You picked up the phone and started fidgeting with it.

“‘Are you ok?’ Yeah I’m fine, I just gotta figure out how to change the locks. I’ll uh.. I’ll get back to you guys. See you later.” You said absentmindedly, as you ended the live.

You paused for a second, sat back on your heels, and sighed, staring up at the roof. The sound of footfalls reached your ears and you didn’t react when Kyungsoo placed a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m not losing this bet.” You mumbled, staring at the ground. An incredulous laugh left him at that as he reached his hand further and brought your face to look at him. A smile that there was no other way to describe but goofy was spread across his face.

“You’re still thinking of that?” He asked and you nodded.

“I take our bet very seriously.” You said before he slightly shook his head, gave you a kiss on the forehead, and moved towards the kitchen.

You picked yourself up and moved to the dining table as he started work in the kitchen. And, as he made a delicious dinner that you both enjoyed, you started to field off your PR team asking who was in your house and ignoring the comments wondering why the guy was speaking Korean in the middle of England.

2019:

It was approximately ten minutes before you had to be in the car and ready to go, and you were half-way there. You had your fireproofs and race suit on and you were being herded towards your car by a crowd of engineers. Strategies and specifics were being directed at you and you could only nod and act as though you were absorbing what they were saying.

Even after four years on the job some people felt they just couldn’t rely on you. Honestly, they should just let you do your thing, you knew what you were doing.

No! God, ever since Kyungsoo had joined the military you’d been irritable and quick to anger on the track. Your poor engineers were trying their best to get through to you, likely because they wanted to keep their jobs, but you’d been incredibly closed off since after you got back from the honeymoon.

Oh yeah, you got married. During a break and right before Kyungsoo was scheduled to start his enlistment, you got married down in a small courthouse with only a few people from either side. You had your family, a few close friends, and a few drivers while Kyungsoo had his family, a few close friends, and the whole of EXO.

It was very emotional and intimate, but that was how you’d describe your relationship so you were very happy with it. You were also extremely happy with the week get-away in the middle of nowhere in New Zealand that followed after, a week of people not recognising both you, farmers markets, and sheep. Lot’s of sheep.

But ever since he’d flown off to do his duty to his country (and shaved his head, no one should look that good with a shaved head) and you’d flown to your next race, you’d been incredibly… angry.

You didn’t know if it had to do with not seeing Kyungsoo for the better part of two years or having that split immediately after the wedding, but what you did know was that it was affecting your racing so you had to snap out of it.

Being dragged back to the present you quickly hopped in the car and performed all of your checks on the steering wheel and adjusted things while people flitted around outside the car, adjusting things and making sure the car was in proper state.

After a quick radio check, the call to start up for the formation lap (you were in P11 after a pretty dodgy qualifying) was relayed and all around you could hear car’s engines coming to life. You glanced at your engineers and snapped down your visor at their nod, starting the car.

Before you pressed the throttle something quickly came to mind. You rapidly gestured for one of your engineers to come close to you, incredibly conscious of all the cars revving around you. The poor engineer almost sprinted to you as you started to fiddle with the zip of your racesuit, the gloves you were wearing prohibiting you from unzipping it.

The engineer's face was comically concerned and he slowly reached forwards before you looked up and grabbed his outreached hand. His face immediately went to one of shock as you made his hand grab the zip and unzip the front part of the suit.

Choosing to ignore the cameras capturing this interaction you continued unzipping it till it lay around your collarbones, hoping the cameras don’t catch any of your naked shoulders. The engineer's face then relaxed as he saw the necklace around your neck and he quickly reached in, almost leaning over the car, to move your necklace around your neck till the latch was in front of him.

He cautiously unlatched the necklace before zipping up your race suit. You immediately relaxed as the pressure around your neck was relieved. Before he could retreat back to the crowd of engineers, you grabbed the hand that wasn’t holding your necklace and slapped it appreciatively with your other hand.

He retreated as you powered up the car and started to move it forwards, letting all the cars that needed to go before go before you started to move.

Your team radio started up as you were leaving the pit lane.

“You all had us very confused there.” Your race engineer said as you started your cruise around the track.

“Yeah, sorry I completely forgot about it. But I thought it was better to take it off.” You said, pressing down on the throttle.

“He better not lose that though. I want that back at the end of the race.” You subtly threatened, suddenly thinking of the rings that were attached to the necklace. You hoped that maybe the cameras hadn’t seen your wedding and engagement rings but you knew there was no chance they hadn’t not captured it. Oh well.

“I don’t know if you’ll get it back by the end of the race.” Your engineer said, her tone almost sarcastic.

“What’s that mean?” You asked, letting the car cruise.

“You’ll probably be killed by your PR team first.” She said bluntly. So bluntly it made you laugh.

“I’ve got a race to focus on.” You reminded her, leaving out the part that you had a race to think of an excuse as to why you have two rings attached to a necklace around your neck.

And you did think of an excuse, wearing the necklace proudly during post-race interviews and saying it was a family heirloom that had been passed on to you by your grandma whenever you were questioned about it.

The moment still went viral though, people questioning the relationship between you and the engineer. It went viral enough to that you had to suffer through teasing by Daniel and his accomplice Max Verstappen (you didn’t know how the kid knew you were married but you suspected it had something to do with an annoying Australian) not to mention the shit being talked in the EXO group chat you were in.

I mean seriously, all of those guys are millionaires, does Chen have nothing else to do with his time than bully the wife of his bandmate?

2020: (sorry Alex)

Somehow you got signed to RedBull on a year contract. Not to say you weren’t grateful for the opportunity but you were definitely a bit confused. But anyway, you let bygones be bygones and now you had a 22 year-old dutch nuisance under your wing.

He was a great kid but god, was he traumatized. You were convinced he’d never seen a healthy family dynamic, so you were more than happy to let him see how you and Kyungsoo functioned. Or at least how you functioned when he was not in the military.

You kind of felt like a life coach for the kid, telling him when he was being taken advantage of or when he should continue with something. You’d been woken up plenty of times in the middle of the night by him drunkenly whining into the phone about wanting to go “home”, something neither of you commented on when he woke up on your couch the next day.

So, safe to say, you’d practically adopted a child without the permission of your husband.

This extended to on the track as well, you’d gotten into a few mild disagreements with Jos Verstappen after his cruel comments which often involved you looking at him angrily and him shit-talking you in interviews about you being a woman. You’d often have to refrain from saying that you’d always be more of a man than him, but alas, you didn’t want to get kicked from your seat.

You knew that Max was extremely appreciative of your dynamic, even commenting on it a few times during interviews, saying that he was very happy to have you as a teammate. After that interview you almost felt like you and his lover, Daniel, were able to give him some sort of an idea of what a normal family relationship should look like.

This sentiment was definitely reinforced when a loud knocking on your Monaco apartment door happened in the early afternoon. It was a weekend with no race, so you were soaking in relaxation. You were having a nice bubble bath after having read for the whole morning, so you were hesitant to hop out of the bath.

The knocking persisted however, and with a sigh, you got out of the bath and wrapped a bathrobe around you before loudly yelling you’d be a minute. You tugged on some sweats which weren’t yours and put your hair in a towel before eventually making your way to the door.

You might’ve taken more than a minute, but it didn’t matter when you opened the door and were greeted with the image of Max Verstappen on his knees, face pressed into the expensive hallway carpet. What a sight to see, the prodigy and most highly anticipated driver of his time, lying face-first on the floor.

“What the fuck?” You asked, immediately crouching down to his level after a quick glance to see that none of your neighbors had left their apartments to check on the banging (pretentious, self-concerned people).

You rolled him over, your confusion doubling as you took in the remorseful look etched across the young man's face, almost tripling as you took in the barely concealed tears in his eyes. Your heart ached though and you pulled him up so that he was sitting on his knees.

“I’m so sorry.” He muttered as your face contorted in confusion. What had happened? “Come inside Max.” You said quietly, helping him up from his spot on the floor and leading him inside, locking the door after you both. Leading him to the couch, you left him after putting the throw blanket over his shoulders, and went to make both of you a tea.

You noticed your phone constantly vibrating on your kitchen counter and quickly chucked it on do not disturb, not checking the notifications because you were more concerned with your teary teammate.

After grabbing the teas you made your way to the couch, setting them down on coasters on the coffee table, before sitting on the edge of the ‘L’ piece of the couch, so you were facing Max. You grabbed his hand from his lap where he had been nervously picking at his nail beds.

“What’s wrong Max?” You asked calmly, bringing his hand to your lap to stop him from hurting himself. He looked up at you, a few tears having rolled down his cheeks.

Whatever had happened had fucked him up. You didn’t think it was a fight with his dad, he’d sadly become pretty unresponsive to those. You briefly considered him losing his seat but shook that off, he was doing exceptionally well.

Maybe you’d lost your seat and he was sent to deliver the news. That would make more sense, especially as your phone was blowing up. You hadn’t been performing very well, but you didn’t think they’d drop you from your seat midway through the season, especially during a season as turbulent as this one.

It was the only reason that made sense though, so you prepared yourself for the news that you would be unemployed. Maybe you’d go back to F2 or maybe IndyCar? Or you could just move to South Korea and live there permanently, letting Kyungsoo fulfill his passion for acting and singing while you did a few kart races to occasionally quench your thirst for adrenaline.

That actually didn’t sound too bad, though you’d definitely have to discuss it with Kyungsoo when he got back from enlistment, which meant around 5 months of unemployment. But hey, you had the money and so did Kyungsoo.

Max snapped you from your thoughts of the future by clearing his throat.

“You don’t know?” He asked, curiously glancing up at you. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“No…” You said, conveying your confusion. “Should I?”

“Have you checked your phone recently?” Yep, you were definitely getting fired. You should probably start packing now. Maybe Daniel could get his seat back? You shook your head in response to his quiet question.

“I’ve just been reading all morning.” Max nodded, a small ‘ah’ leaving his mouth as he stared at the floor. He reached for his tea, his hand leaving your lap. You narrowed your eyes at that, following his movements as he sipped, a gasp immediately leaving his throat as he burnt it.

You immediately cussed and sprung up from your couch to grab a glass of cold water, running back to the couch and giving it to Max, watching as he gulped down the glass. When he finished he turned back to you and thanked you, before pausing for a second and bursting into another round of tears. You placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re really freaking me out Max. Can you please tell me what’s wrong?” You asked gently, trying to make him catch your eye.

“Promise you won't hate me?” His small voice asked and you internally crumpled at his vulnerable question. Honestly you never thought you’d end up gentle-parenting a teammate like he was a child of yours, especially since you were only like 5 years older than him, but here you were, caring for him like family.

“Yes, I won’t hate you Max.” You repeated as he finally caught your eye. He took a deep breath before starting to speak.

“I was doing an interview for the press and they started asking questions about other drivers and my relationship to them. They then asked about you and I said that I’m really close to you and etcetera.” Ok, seems pretty normal so far. At least you weren’t getting fired, hopefully.

“And they asked if I see you more as a mother figure or a romantic interest.” He said before quickly turning his eyes away. This confused you before you clued in.

“Oh Max.” You said quietly and he turned back to you. “I’m flattered you feel that way but I am married and I am loyal-”

“No, no, no!” He said, louder than he’d ever spoken in the time since he was on the floor. His cheeks had turned bright red as he looked in your eyes.

“No, I didn’t say that I saw you romantically!” He quickly amended and you breathed a sigh of relief, smiling.

“Ok, that’s good! I didn’t want our friendship to be awkward.” You said, looking at him for a response. He just grimaced and averted his gaze. You gestured for him to go on confusedly and he began speaking again.

“And I said more like a mother-figure.” A statement which made you feel positive things you don’t want to address. “Then I may have accidentally said that, even though I haven’t met him, I see your husband as more of a father-figure as well.” He quickly rushed the last part out and you sat, stunned.

The room went silent while you processed what he told you. Fuuuuckkk. How much trouble were you going to be in? I mean the team knew, but this wasn’t something you could pass off as your grandmother's rings. This was undeniable proof that you had a husband. God press days were going to suck after this unless you could somehow make an excuse.

As time went on he seemed to collapse in on himself, the energy quickly switching to something you didn’t like.

“To be honest I thought you were going to tell me I’d lost my seat.” You said and Max’s head snapped up. “What?” He asked, disbelieving.

“Yeah I know, crazy.” You laughed, dragging out the last word, trying to establish a more relaxed aura in the room.

“No, why haven’t you kicked me out yet?” It was at times like this you really wanted to punch Jos Verstappen in the face. You made an over exaggerated confused face, hoping the fact that that had never gone through your mind was on display in your face.

“Max, why would I do that?” You asked, your voice very quickly becoming soothing.

“Why aren’t you mad at me? You’ve spent years hiding this! You should be yelling at me!” He said, standing up. You tried, in vain, to get him to sit down by gently calling him, but he started pacing.

“I’ve just ruined your chances at revealing this yourself, at ever having another peaceful day in your marriage, and all you can do is make a joke?!” He almost started yelling, clenching his fists. You got fed-up and yelled his name, calling his attention to you.

“You’re in my house as my guest. You will not tell me what to do or how to handle situations. Sit your ass down.” You yelled, your voice incredibly commanding. He followed your instructions and sat smally in front of you.

“Max. It was eventually going to come out. I don’t mind. I’d much rather it come off handedly from you than maliciously leaked by a random instagram page.” You said and he looked up, almost looking close to tears. You frowned before bringing the boy up into a hug. You stayed like that for a few minutes before you had to ask a question.

“You didn’t reveal who he was though, no?” You asked, still in the hug. You felt Max shake his head and you silently fistpumped behind his back. It wasn’t your fault, so it technically didn’t count and you hadn’t lost the bet.

You were right, by the way, press days were soon filled with questions about your mystery husband instead of your racing. But it was fine, you were somehow able to twist it as though you’d made a joke about having a husband and Max took it seriously.

Phew.

2021: (sorry latifi)

“And so today you will be reacting to fan edits of yourselves!” The lady behind the camera finished, prompting you and George to look at eachother. It was early in the season and, even though you’d raced together for a few years, you weren’t exactly close, being that before pre-season meetings, you hadn’t ever talked. At all.

This meant he didn’t know much about your personal life or the whole ‘husband’ thing. Which was fine, you’d tell him in your own time, when you felt your friendship was strong enough. He seemed to be a great kid, though you were determined to not adopt another grown child, especially after the look you got from Kyungsoo when you mentioned the fact you may have ‘accidentally’ had Christmas with Max Verstappen.

But hey, they had finally met during February and it was almost like a Dad saying that his daughter can’t adopt a cat while simultaneously cuddling with the cat. Kyungsoo, against his better judgment, had instantly attached to Max and now you were battling for the position of being his favourite driver. Which you were totally not bitter about (you said your favourite EXO member was Sehun in retaliation and he changed your mind very quickly).

Back to the present, the people behind the camera placed a tablet on the table in front of you. It was open on the photo gallery and you could already see some very flattering videos saved to the device.

“You wanna go first?” You asked, and George nodded before picking up the tablet and scrolling through the photo library. He closed his eyes and landed on one. Loud music immediately began playing from the device, you think ‘London Boy’ by Taylor Swift, and you both watched in varying states of horror as photos and clips of him flashed on the screen.

As the video ended you both accidentally made eye-contact. Now, as an almost 28 year old woman, the simple gesture of looking into your teammate's stricken eyes should not have made burst out laughing as hard as you did. But, god, George’s eyes were expressive. In fairness he also did laugh, though he probably was confused as to why you were laughing so much.

After you caught your breath you could only utter out,

“Your face...” Before peeling back into giggles again. He started laughing again as well before putting the tablet down. In doing so, he accidentally swiped the tablet and the Backstreet Boys started playing, an edit of the 2019 rookies playing as the video.

This chain event caused you to start gasping, the sheer ridiculousness of the videos catching up to you. George only took one look at the tears forming in your eyes before he was also wheezing out harsh breaths from laughing.

It took around 2 minutes for you to look at each other without laughing and, for you both to be able to pick up the tablet without giggling, it took another minute or so. You eventually began scrolling through the tablet, laughing at some and ‘aww’-ing at some of the sad ones.

Eventually a video came up with the background music to ‘Give it to me’ by Sistar, an edit of you that was hot but had you gasping at the lyrics.

“What?” George looked over to you, curious as to why there was another noise that came out of your mouth than laughing or a strained ‘why?’.

“The audacity!” You said, as the music continued playing.

“What..?” George asked, more confused than previously.

“Do you want to know the lyrics they’ve just edited me to?” You asked, looking over at him, your voice pretending to be offended.

“What?” He said, his tone changing again to have a sort of goading lilt.

“Will I even get married before I turn thirty.” You said with an air of finality, turning to glare at the camera, your jaw dramatically hung open. George gasped mockingly.

“How dare they!” He said sarcastically and you nodded eagerly.

“I know right!” You responded beginning a stereotypical mean girl impression. “How dare they!” After that little fiasco, you both kept scrolling and laughing (a notable example of this being when an edit of George crying came up, him pushing your shoulders as you continued to laugh).

Eventually the video was being wrapped up and George was preparing to do a sort of sign off when he paused and turned to you.

“I know we aren’t incredibly close…” He started and you prepared for a multitude of questions. You didn’t know him well enough to predict what he might say, so you went over your predisposed answers to questions in your head.

You knew he wouldn’t ask anything uncomfortable, like about your relationship status, or anything really weird, like how many socks do you wash at once. But that left a gaping probability for mildly-weird or mildly-uncomfortable questions. You hoped he wouldn’t ask that, but you were still prepared to be asked if you threw out your receipts or kept them.

“But I didn’t know you knew Korean. How did you learn?”

Oh. Fuck.

You did not have an answer for that. How the fuck did you not have an answer for that? You definitely should have had an answer for that. Oh wait, you didn’t have an answer because you promised yourself not to tell anyone that you could speak Korean so that you didn’t get that question!

The real, close-friends answer was that Kyungsoo had taught you over a range of years and that you’d taken courses so that you’d be able to talk to his friends and family. However you didn’t have a PR approved answer because you’d never thought that you’d need one. Time to put your problem solving skills to the test.

“Uhhhhh…” You said, staring confusedly at George, aware of the seconds that had passed while you were internally monologuing. You hoped your expression didn’t convey the level of gob-smacked that you felt but you think it did because George’s face contorted to be one of worry.

“If that’s a sensitive topic or something you don’t have to answer!” He quickly said as though he was trying to fix the situation. You’d later learn the George thought before your video that you were kind of ‘fucking terrifying’ (his words) and that he was scared he’d screwed up by asking you this and one of his ‘hero’s’ (his words) wouldn’t ever want to talk to him again.

“Nah, nah. It’s ok.” You waved him off, desperately trying to think of something. Oh! You knew exactly what to say.

“Basically I just have this really good friend who is Korean and I asked him to teach me for fun.” You said simply, before realising that wasn’t good enough considering your reaction.

“I was trying to hide how good I’ve gotten to try and surprise him but I guess it’s ok.” You said, a small smile on your face. George relaxed from his tense state and nodded, a small smile playing onto his lips as well.

“Ah that’s cool. Sorry to spoil the surprise.” You waved him off again and he continued the video’s outro.

Another good save, you really oughta be hired to problem-solve. And by problem-solving you mean lying to the media. And George. Poor George.

2022: (yeah the timelines don’t match, don’t call me out pls)

A loud banging sounded against your hotel door. You groaned, dropping the book onto your chest from where you held it up. Glancing angrily at the door, you rolled out of bed and stomped over to the entrance. You ripped open the door and prepared to start reaming the person on the other side before letting out a high-pitched scream.

You were in Japan for the Suzuka GP. You always didn’t like the Japanese GP because, even though you were incredibly close to Kyungsoo, your schedules never lined up so you could never see him.

That fact really grinded your gears, but it’s what you get when you try to schedule something with SM Entertainment. A decisive ‘No.’ What a great company. To be honest, was Willaims really any better?

No. No they weren’t. That mere fact infuriated you enough to make you scream. However, it wasn’t the reason you were currently screaming. That was because, standing in your doorway in the middle of the team hotel, was Kai.

You hadn’t seen him in a few months, you both had busy schedules, so the man appearing on your doorstep was miraculous. You didn’t think of why he was there, or how he got there. You just threw your arms around him and gave him a hug.

“Oh my god!” You screamed, before immediately regretting it and quickly pulling him into your hotel room before someone came out of their rooms and wondered why he was in front of yours.

“Hi!” He said, laughing as he let himself be pushed into your room despite the fact he could pick you up and throw you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked changing your pulling into a hug, squeezing the younger man as though he was your child. You had a serious problem with that, treating men almost your age as children. But Kai was more of a brother than a child, to be quite frank. That distinction just meant that he really really bugged you.

“I have a concert tomorrow and I thought I might just stop in.” He said, a smile on his face. “Though it is only me, sorry.”

“That’s ok!” You said, still in disbelief one of your closest friends was on your doorstep.

“Does Kyungsoo know?” Kai smirked in response to your question. That was answer enough in itself and you slapped Kai on the shoulder.

“You should’ve told him! He might’ve come.” Kai gasped in mock offense.

“What am I not good enough? Would you really prefer your husband that much?” He continued in mock offense and you dead-panned him. He just laughed in response.

“I did have to tell the company I was coming though, and they asked me to film a TikTok with you.” He quickly rushed out and you groaned, staring at the sky. What was up with all of these people wanting you to do TikTok’s?! You had all of your team's PR people constantly chasing you with a camera and now you had Kai asking for a video.

“Fine.” You ground out and Kai grinned, purposely ignoring your annoyance.

“Fantastic!” He said and quickly whipped out his phone, launching into his plans of what to film. Your only artistic input was that he had to cool it on the filters or else you wouldn’t film.

The video started with the familiar sound of Peaches by Kai and a hand knocking on your hotel door, you opening the door curiously. As the chorus sounded, you recorded Kai dancing in your doorway, incredibly aware of the chance of any of your colleagues walking into the hallway and wondering what the fuck was going on.

The video continued after the chorus, Kai recording you slamming the door in his face with a confused expression. The video then ended with a still image of the both of you doing a heart together with your hands and you let Kai go rampant on the filters, hearts and sparkles flying around on the screen.

When you watched it back, Kai waiting at your side eagerly to see your reaction, you did your best to hide the laughing fit you had in reaction to the monstrosity. You couldn’t quite hide the gasps that were leaving you though and Kai frowned.

“It’s perfect. I love it.” You said, through your giggles and he smiled.

“I know. It’s fantastic.” You only nodded because you couldn’t trust yourself to talk, a small whine escaping through your lips at the struggle of not laughing.

“Do you want to see the caption?” He asked and you violently nodded your head.

“Please.”

“P15 but still P1 EXO-L.” He read out and you just hung your jaw open. “You bastard!” You laughed out.

“I put it in Korean as well.” Your only response was to hit him, hard, while still laughing and shaking your head.

“Should we run it by your PR team before posting?” Kai asked, taking a serious note. You looked to him and sucked in air through your teeth.

“Nahhhh.” You replied and he shrugged, and clicked post.

“I should probably tell Kyungsoo you were here before he finds out through the internet.” You said, reaching for your phone. Kai nodded vehemently.

One phone call later, an angry Kyungsoo and an apologetic Kai later, the TikTok was making its rounds and your phone was blowing up, your poor PR agent about to have a heart attack.

On that delightful note Kai left your hotel room, farewelled with a minute long hug and a well-wish for his concert, and you were left to phone your PR agent who just screamed into the phone for 10 seconds before actually speaking.

Of course, during the press releases for the rest of the season, you talked about how much of an EXO-L you were and how close of a friend you were to Kai. This didn’t come without dating rumours but, due to one poorly angled camera shot of your disgusted face when a reporter suggested dating to your face, that was shut down pretty quickly.

Still no one had shipped you with the other EXO members though, so you weren’t even close to losing the bet. (Though you had been asked which EXO member was your favourite, which you responded to with a smirk.)

2023:

It was a good race, you finishing P4 which was a huge improvement since last season. Your team was on top of the moon as were you, smiling from ear to ear. You were currently in the press area, getting asked questions left and right about the car and your performance.

You were adequately responding to each question, sometimes looking questioningly your PR agent when you weren’t sure how to respond. A loud crash sounded through the area that drew the attention of most in the area as a reporters chair fell to the ground. They had jumped up at something on their phone and, like everyone else in the pen, you were wondering what had them so fired up.

Then their eyes darted up and made eye-contact with you. Your internal monologue quickly changed from questioning to a repeated loop of ‘Oh no. Oh no.’ as they advanced your way, moving like a predator stalks their prey. They thrusted their phone under your nose, the shitty little mic attached to it capturing every breath you took and the many cameras in the area capturing your wide eyes.

The reporter addressed you by name before starting to speak.

“Do you know of a man by the name Doh Kyungsoo?” They asked and your world cracked. What on earth had happened? How did they know? All you knew was that it was time for the one acting class your mum had made you take to try and sway you from racing to come to full effect.

“I think he’s from that band Kai’s in, yeah?” You responded after a second of fake pondering. The reporter's eyes narrowed like a hawk.

“You wouldn’t say you were close? Not close enough to get married perhaps?” The reporter asked, clearly trying to stir the pot. Oh my god, was this a prank? How the fuck did they know? How were you supposed to play this off? Would this jeopardize your career?

“Uhhm no…?” You said, incredulously, fixing them a scandalized stare. They sarcastically nodded.

“Oh really? Then what’s this?” They said and shoved their phone closer to your face till you saw a picture of you and Kyungsoo on your wedding day. How did they get this? Had one of your small circle leaked something?

You tried not to let the bewilderment you felt show on your face.

“I’m sorry? Are you trying to pass this off as real? It’s obviously photoshopped! I’m so tired of people trying to fabricate a story of me dating every person I’ve interacted with!” You finally snapped, letting a few years of pent up tension out in this moment. The reporter only continued to smirk.

“Oh really!” They said and you wanted to punch them and their snooty little face. To try and display this, your face fell into one of contempt.

“Is that why this image was posted to Doh Kyungsoo’s official instagram account with the caption ‘Sorry for making you lie to the press for eight years!’?”

They got you there, dam.

Your jaw dropped open, the corners of your mouth rising at the pure hilarity of this situation.

“Excuse me?” You asked, grabbing the phone off the reporter and tapping back onto the post. They were right, Kyungsoo had posted to his official instagram that exact post. It was a carousel post with pictures taken of when you’d lied to the press about him, from the initial lying about being in Seoul to a picture of your ringed necklace to a picture of you smirking after being asked which EXO member was your favourite.

You couldn’t help but release a laugh, your hand traveling to cover your open mouth. Why did he post this?

Wait.

This meant you won the bet. Your head shot up to stare at a camera.

“I won the bet.” You said quietly. The reporter snatched their phone back and stared at you confused.

“What?” They asked and you whipped your head to them, a large smile spreading across your face.

“I won the bet!” You said eagerly, reaching out to grab their shoulders and rock them back and forth.

“I won the bet!!” You ignored how they shook you off, turning to your PR Agent instead and grabbing them and lifting them up. They hurriedly tapped your back as you lifted them, as though signaling you to drop them, but you ignored that and started spinning them around.

“I actually can’t believe it, oh my god!” You snapped out of it and dropped your PR Agent, immediately running out of the media pen and back to your driver room, pulling your necklace out of your racesuit and pulling your rings off, placing them back on their correct fingers.

You quickly packed everything up, ignoring the ringing of your phone as your team tried to get you to go to more press conferences and briefings, and you got out of there, on the first plane to Seoul you could book.

When you arrived, after a long plane trip filled with excitement and pictures being taken of you, decked out in your team's merchandise as you sat buzzing in your seat, your phone was completely blowing up, messages from everyone in your contact list and more. You turned it off (you’d deal with it later) after calling an uber to your apartment.

You were jittery the whole ride, hoping that, despite the time of night, Kyungsoo was still awake. When you arrived outside your apartment building, you felt all the tension in your body ease, and you looked up to see the light on in your window. You smiled and took your suitcase handle in hand and ventured into the building, greeting the old lady at the desk.

Riding the lift up to your apartment nearly had you pacing and you almost ran down the hallway towards your door, quickly knocking. You felt the reverberations in the floorboards as Kyungsoo walked over to the door and a sense of euphoria filled you at the familiarity.

The door was barely open before you launched yourself at Kyungsoo, his heavenly laughter filled your ears as he caught you. You quickly found yourself in a kiss before pulling back and peppering kisses all over his face, finding his giggles more lovely than his singing.

You both pulled back just to look in eachothers eyes and you smiled simultaneously.

“I love you.” You muttered, the happiness from the day finally catching up to you.

“I love you too.” He whispered, tilting his head before going in for another kiss.

“You know.” He began later that night, when you were just lying in bed cuddling together. You turned your head from its position on his chest to look at him, his eyes remaining on the roof.

“I think I won in the end.” You immediately reared your head back, prepared to object at the sheer wrongness of his answer. He anticipated this though and dropped his hand from where it was combing through your hair to your mouth. He also dropped his head as to make eye contact.

“You stuck by me through everything. Even though you had to lie almost every day and had to listen to millions of rumours about me with other people, you still stayed with me. You learned a whole other language just to know people who knew me. Nothing I will ever say will ever put into perspective how much I appreciate what you’ve done for me. The way you’ve loved me will be comparable to nothing other than how much I’ve loved you.” His heartfelt speech made your head vibrate and a few tears left your eyes at his words, him kissing each one away.

You whined deep in the back of your throat and he released a laugh at your response.

“You could’ve just said ‘I love you’.” You said quietly.

“That’s true too.” He said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

ahh it's over! dividers from this post btw, it's 11:59 pm let me sleep.

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sporesgalaxy · 7 months

Note

PLS.. share thoughts on zoro n sanji relationship........ i dont ship them but they are so. SOOOOO.

THEY MAKE ME CRAZZYYYYY. and honestly the way their dynamic make me insane doesnt even HAVE to be read as romantic. But i feel so much crazier when i see them shipped and its not even capitalizing on all the shit theyve got going on.

So anyways here's my Zoro and Sanji retrospective I spent several hours on I guess. As if it's my fault.

▪︎

When Zoro and Sanji meet, Sanji has given up on his dream to see the All-Blue in favor of supporting Zeff.

Zoro is still throwing himself at his dream to be the greatest swordsman with all his might, and nearly dies to Mihawk for it.

Initially, from Sanji's outside perspective, it seems like a waste of precious life.

Zoro promising never to disappoint Luffy when he's on death's door clearly makes Sanji reconsider, though.

•••

The next time Sanji and Zoro really interact after Zoro's defeat is when they go after Nami at Arlong Park.

And the first thing Sanji learns about Zoro is.......that he's willing to hit girls!

To Sanji, Zoro seems like he's willing to turn on someone-- and worse, willing to hurt a girl-- just because he's angry for an apparent betrayal that no one has any concrete proof of yet. What a jerk! Surely that earned him the dig Sanji makes about his loss to Mihawk.

Unbeknownst to Sanji, however, Zoro has already bet his life on Nami's friendship being genuine by almost drowning himself.

Zoro doesn't want to bother explaining this to some stupid new guy who's willing to side with a stranger purely on the basis of her gender. Clearly, Sanji doesn't understand ANYTHING about this crew, and should just stay out of things.

And so their initial mutual dislike is born!!!

They tend to bicker a lot after this, but I think the next time Sanji brings up Mihawk is in Alabasta.

Once again, Sanji is hitting below the belt because he's convinced Zoro's done something nigh-unforgivable: doubting Luffy. It's a reminder that their rivalry at this point is still built on genuinely misjudging each others' character.

Now at this point I've run out of my 100 daily shounen jump chapters so I can't find for you the PRECISE moment thet are mutually like "yeah ok fine you're a DECENT guy I GUESS" in Alabasta but I think it's the clock tower maybe? The point is that the whole crew has to work together VERY HARD to defeat Crocodile and it shows Sanji and Zoro that they can count on each other to support the crew, at least.

Their improved relationship is apparent in one of my fave downtime scenes so far: Sky Island jungle dinner :)

I...don't think we've seen Sanji ask for help cooking before this point?? Much less from Zoro. So I fucking love that. And Zoro goes along with it, even though he complains!!!!! It shows perfectly how they now trust each other to help take care of the crew.

Another one if my fave examples of them counting on each other in a kind of funny way is when they're fighting Zombie Oars.

Zoro pushes Sanji's buttons on purpose to get him to go along with it, and it works. But it also shows that Zoro was counting on him to give him a boost! The middle panel could even imply Zoro jumped before Sanji agreed to anything, which really proves how much they're willing to couny on each other now.

Which of course brings us to the conclusion of Thriller Bark and a WILD curveball in their relationship: thes self-sacrificial x2 combo.

What Sanji does here floored me. At this point not only does he trust Zoro as a part of the crew, but he considers Zoro a more irreplacable member of the crew than himself.

And Zoro refuses to let him.

Now, we know from his initial fight with Mihawk that Zoro being willing to kill himself doesn't mean he considers his life unimportant. Zoro and Luffy are both unafraid of death, because they have to be willing to die to even have a ghost of a chance of achieving their dreams.

That's why Zoro chooses to take on Luffy's pain and why he is able to survive it.

Zoro's sacrifice obviously means a lot to Sanji. When Zoro refuses to acknowledge his sacrifice, Sanji goes along with that and covers for him.

And of course he understands. The pain Sanji mentions here that Zoro is trying to spare Luffy from is the exact same pain that lead Sanji to give up on his dream of finding the All-Blue in favor of trying to repay his life debt to Zeff. Sanji wouldn't wish the guilt he feels for Zeff's leg on anybody.

Sanji shows a lot of concern for Zoro after this point up until the time skip!! He calls Zoro a hero to Brook, and tries to help Zoro deal with his excess injuries without drawing attention to them. Zoro is of course surly about it, because he's frustrated by his own limits. He got a taste of what Luffy goes through and it just made him more desperate to become strong enough to lighten Luffy's load.

I find their sort-of reset after the timeskip hilarious.

Sanji was already feeling deeply insecure when he got sent to the island of question your gender and sexuality-- things Sanji clearly considers very important to his identity. Since he can't bear to question himself, he relies on reacting combatively to things that challenge his masculinity. Kicking them, mostly. I'm sure he picked that up from Zeff.

Meanwhile, Zoro is THE most traditionally Masculine member of the crew besides Sanji by a long shot (Franky is in 3rd place as a self-professed freak with blue hair and pronouns who refuses to wear pants). Zoro is buffer than Sanji. And seemingly more stoic than Sanji. And Zoro has cool scars and uses three swords and his muscles are bigger and half the time he's not even wearing a shirt.

This masculinity contest between them was present before the timeskip too, but it's really the only good explanation for the extremeness of Sanji's sour attitude the moment he lays eyes on post-timeskip Zoro and remarks, aloud, "He's back. Like I really care..." after how much appreciation Sanji showed for Zoro's sacrifice before the timeskip.

Sanji WOULD be annoyed at his crewmate's seemingly effortless, unshakeable masculinity after two years of doggedly avoiding non-consensual crossdressing and constantly fighting for his life to outrun gay thoughts.

Zoro's side of things so far post-timeskip seems a bit less wound-up than Sanji. Zoro never takes an insult sitting down, and also just enjoys making snide remarks, so if Sanji's going to argue with him there's no reason for Zoro not to argue back.

This is why I am a gay Zoro truther, even if that gayness has nothing to do with anyone on the crew. Because its fucking hilarious if Sanji is one-sidedly trying to out-hetero-masculinity a literal gay man.

#1pc discussion #1pc #asks #zosan #1pc lb #zs

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fractualized · 6 months

Text

Alright. Let's break down this "oh" of an ending. NEGATIVE NANCY, COMING THROUGH

Spoilers, ho!

Ending a story is hard, if they're long or short. Whether you wrap up key threads or leave them open, you want some kind of takeaway that puts a period on things. Even in comics, where we know these characters will go on and on, ideally a story will end in a way that just... fits. Even amateur fic writers have loads of WIPs just sitting there because exactly how to end this damn thing eludes them.

I don't know if Rosenberg had an ending in mind when he started The Man Who Stopped Laughing. I don't know if he decided he'd figure it out by the end of it's year-long run. I don't know if DC Editorial lets people do that; it sounds insane, but if you've been paying attention to their current level of editorial "oversight," which I imagine is supposed to make concurrent titles mesh together reasonably well, I wouldn't be shocked if they let people wing it. Or, more likely, perhaps DC Editorial swooped in and made Rosenberg change the ending he had planned and that's why the result falls flat.

In any case, after 11 issues of enjoying myself, I'm left feeling deflated.

But let's start where #12 does, with the Joker who's been told he's John Keyser, a toxin'd henchmen that the real Joker made into a doppelganger for funsies. He approaches a hotdog vendor.

I'm stuck on "Hello. I've been looking for you"?? I didn't catch that on my first read. Joker has a favorite hotdog vendor? lol

Shut up, Waffles!! All we have is your word for it!!

In any case, hey, Keyser Joker has already been Jokering this long, so yeah, why not keep going? And why not with help from poor woobie Jason, fresh from nearly getting himself killed in Gotham War?

Bruce did not fix Jason at the end of Gotham War, so his adrenaline is still triggering fear in his brain. But Keyser Joker has a solution for that!

It's a tiny dose of Joker toxin to take the edge off of Bruce's programming. Joker makes a point of saying that the effects are only temporary, though. (And like, I assume this is just the quick-fix solution Rosenberg came up with to pull off his own ending when told Bruce's plans for Jason over in the other titles.) Jason is skeptical of this "help," naturally, but Keyser Joker brings up their matching interest: getting rid of the other Joker.

Jason, why you gotta ruin Albert's good time? 🙄

Cut to Red Hood dragging a clown henchman through the streets of Gotham.

But "his" face being blacked out and some of the dialogue clue the reader in: things aren't what they seem.

DERAIL TIME: what is up with this batmobile?

Like from some other angles, it looks sportier, but in most of the panels it looks like an old Buick? lol ANYWAY.

With the flaily way this person jumps off the bike and runs, I was sure that this was Keyser Joker and we might see Batman interact with him. Alas.

It's Ravager, who survived last issue's explosion. She's helping Jason 1) distract Batman and 2) get Albert out of harm's way, far from Keyser Joker's plan.

Naturally Keyser Joker is planning something more destructive than he's led Jason to believe. Also like…

The idea that Keyser Joker really is this John guy, not the real deal, is still not sitting fucking right with me. Seeing him here in another costume, with a goofy death train with mismatched eyes just like his, it feels like a signal that he actually is Joker and Waffles is either lying or mistaken somehow. Like compared to the other Joker, who we haven't seen in a costume? Who left Gotham for weird reasons? I really thought there was going to be a reverse reveal.

And since it doesn't come, I guess it's a good time to mention that! There is no reverse reveal of who the real Joker is. Things get a little muddy later, but…. hrm. HRM.

That said, the other Joker does something pretty dang Jokery: he shows up in a dirigible with his face on it.

Killer Moth and a bunch of clown goons (that aren't supposed to be available because of Gotham War but WHATEVER) attach the dirigible to the train and it's pretty chaotic!

I love when villains are like, "Look I may kill people, but an endangered gorilla?! Get outta here!" 😂

Jason also arrives in style.

I guess he was observing Ravager's distraction?? Which feels like it defeats part of the purpose of having her do the distraction. But then he couldn't have this cool entrance in which he bludgeons people with a motorcycle. Trade offs!

Meanwhile, Real Joker makes it to the front of the train to confront Keyser Joker. One of Real's goons offers to shoot Keyser, but Real Joker wants to make this personal and kills the poor hench so he can do it himself.

Jason coming in like YEEEEEAAAAHHHHH 😎

Then he gets the bad news.

Keyser is as casually suicidal as your average Joker! Also "Real" Joker never acknowledges Red Hood's identity, afaik. It's always Keyser Joker. Details like this got me thinking that reverse reveal was coming, AND YET.

That aside, next comes a fun comedy beat.

Real Joker going right for the hair!

Jason isn't going to let this be the end of it, of course, and once again Killer Moth must suffer at his hands.

Jason shoots so many clowns. Just never the one he wants. 😞

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaait wait wait. You're telling me that Bruce knew about the imminent TWO JOKERS situation. But he decided to prioritize a report of Red Hood dragging a clown through the streets. When in the same breath he's saying there are other people coming to the scene with him, so he obviously could've sent someone else? On the same day Batman #139 is like "oooh Bruce is totally onto Joker now"? This is what you're telling me?? Augh.

Well, we can't rely on Batman right now, clearly, so it's up to Jason.

Meanwhile, Keyser Joker has told the other one that he actually does have a secret way off the runaway train safely. After they fight some more, the tune starts to change.

Alright so, this "deal," which would sort of start them back at square one, doesn't bother me because obviously it's on shaky-ass ground and one of them is definitely killing the other before this issue is over. What does bug me is the "franchising" line, for two reasons:

1) Is this supposed to imply that Real Joker is the one who was behind Joker Incorporated in the Batman Incorporated issues, not a third one?

2) I was just SO SURE it was another indication we were getting a reverse reveal. Joker absolutely does not love the franchising idea. That's kind of been the point of this whole series. The genuine Joker in Keyser Joker's hallucination/memory said that having two Jokers around is stupid. HRRRRMMM.

Anyhow, they leave the train together, though the escape plan is literally just jumping off, which has more issues than they bargained for.

So do you think, assuming the Gotham War writers actually communicated at least a little, that Zdarsky asked Rosenberg what he needed Jason for at the end of TMWSL, and Rosenberg was like, "oh I need him to heroically crash a toxic blimp and almost die?" And then Zdarsky was like, "er, I need him to heroically fly a plane into a magic meteor and almost die?" And then they just shrugged and closed the Zoom?

But yeah, the blimp crashes, and I'm sort of confused because I thought that earlier Bruce was saying that even if the toxin gets into the water, it'll still make it's way to the city. So for one thing, it's still exploding in the air and it's still gonna drift. And the parts that dissolve in water are still gonna drift. There's a part to the equation missing here.

But these two are just thrilled at the excitement.

Until the sudden yet inevitable betrayal.

BUT WHO WAS JOKE

Shortly after this, Ravager shows up with Manhunter, who also survived last issue's explosion. (It just doesn't come up at all. Like it doesn't have to, I guess, but it's just weird that there's not a word or wound about it.) Ravager dives into the water looking for Jason, because she instinctually knows he did something grand and dumb. She finds him among the clown bodies and brings him to shore.

Nothing can kill this man! He came back from the dead with nine lives! And also maybe that Lazarus resin from TFZ is still helping, I dunno.

Elsewhere along the shore, what's left of both Jokers' crews find themselves waiting in the same spot for the Joker they expect to be triumphant.

You know what. I'm soured on Waffles now. Leave him.

And then, from the water…

And that's it. That's how it ends. With a sort of snide cop-out?

Like, it's Joker's POV, so yeah, you could say the dickish tone is just him. But following this story for a year, and then seeing it end with simply the old "you'll never know which Joker prevailed," it doesn't feel clever or whatever this is going for. It just feels obnoxious.

Honestly, it feels like the same takeaway as freaking Three Jokers. 😐 That it doesn't matter who Joker is. All the lead-up to this, where maybe we get a tiny bit of depth and development, even if just in this story, eh. Doesn't matter! We're ending this with blah payoff.

On the other hand, the part of about about there being more questions, about this ending not being tidy, makes me think that this is leaving open the possibility that Keyser Joker actually was the real one. After all, we don't get a flashback to the actual events. The events we see are part of a hallucination, and Keyser never said he had clear memories of being the real or the fake one. He just went from assuming he was the real one to taking Waffles' word for it that he was the henchman.

Also, Keyser Joker was always the Joker giving narration. And the narration boxes for the Final Joker at the end remain in his style. So it seems like we actually have a huge indication of which Joker prevailed-- unless we're meant to assume that if the other Joker prevailed, he merely took over the narration.

I mean, this is what we have. So if I can just choose what I want to believe, I'm going to believe both that Keyser was actually the real guy and that he won. But it puts a real sour taste in my mouth to be super engaged with a story and wanting an ending that says something about Joker's character… and the ending is just that one murders the other and you don't know who, neener neener. It's anticlimactic. It's a predictable direction that I thought SURELY Rosenberg wouldn't go in. It feels like a dick move.

And... what else is there to say? So ends my year of consistently buying a comic, I guess. Nothing else has really grabbed me like TMWSL did, though City of Madness looks promising. After the multiverse and Gotham War stuff, I'm not about to start picking up Zdarsky's Batman. #139 had plenty I should enjoy, but it's soured by Zdarsky deciding to bring a canonical take to the three Jokers concept for some ungodly reason.

A new three Jokers take feels extra stupid after a year of a story about two Jokers. And the second Joker in TMWSL isn't even taken into account in Zdarsky's story. Based off that #135 scene, it really looks like he's going to say that Darwin Halliday accidentally copied TKJ Joker somehow. lmao Why. Why do we have to do this. Why can't this just be one of the things that gets retconned away. I just want my murderclown to be fun.

I need to get back to my list of unread older comics. Or read One Operation Joker! I didn't think I was interested, but I think a random goofy premise is actually just what I need.

#the man who stopped laughing #joker #spoilers #my jibber-jabber #sorry for being a downer

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thisapplepielife · 5 months

Text

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

A Solid Plan

Prompt Day 5: Domestic Fluff | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: Light E | CW: Sexual Content | Tags: Established Relationship, Teamwork Makes the Dream Work, If You Build It: He Will Come, Idiots in Love, Silly Sex Mishaps, First Apartment, Flat Pack Furniture

"Are you sure you don't need the instructions?" Eddie asks, and Steve shakes his head. He definitely doesn't need the directions. It's like a picture booklet, more than actual plans on how to build this thing. So, he's good without, he's pretty sure.

"No, it's not that hard," Steve says, for the tenth time.

It's a bookshelf, not rocket science.

"Because, I think-"

"Eddie! Just let me do this, okay?" Steve snaps, cutting him off.

Eddie makes the motion for zipping his lips, and throwing away the key.

Steve smiles at him, can't not. Even if he's tired of putting together all this furniture. But he'll do it, for Eddie.

Eddie dragged him into this huge store, with names he can't pronounce, picking out pieces they had to put together themselves. That's not Steve's experience with furniture. Growing up, a truck brought a new couch, or a new bed frame, and the delivery guys just carried it through the double doors. Ready to use.

This? Is not that. They don't have the money for that kind of treatment, at least not right now. So, they're stuck with this headache. This is Lego furniture, he's pretty sure. But it's made out of particle board instead of plastic.

It's okay. Right now all they can afford is furniture with vaguely shitty instructions.

So, Steve turns the Allen wrench that came with it, tightening all the pieces until he has a bookshelf. He stands it up.

"See? Done," Steve says.

"Anything look wrong?" Eddie asks, a smug look on his face.

Steve looks at it, really looks.

The back panel is on backwards. Fuck.

"Shit, I can fix it."

"You wouldn't have had to fix it if you used the instructions," Eddie taunts, but he's smiling.

"Yes, you're right. I'm wrong," Steve says, dryly.

"Damn straight," Eddie says, but he holds onto it while Steve unscrews the back panel, so he can flip it around and screw it back on, the right way.

The bed frame takes both of them to assemble, and Steve isn't sure it's going to be sturdy enough to sleep on. Let alone fuck on. He should have brought his bedroom furniture from home. It's a little ugly, and his mom's taste, not his own, but it was solid wood. But they didn't want to move it halfway across the country.

So, now, they're stuck doing this, and Steve hopes it'll hold up until they can afford something better, sturdier.

Once it's built, Eddie helps him put the sheets on, and then he sits on it delicately. Eddie is thrilled, Steve is skeptical.

He was right to be skeptical. One thrust too hard, and Steve hears it give way at the same time they're suddenly falling.

They hit the floor, the mattress falling straight through the slats, the legs giving way to total collapse. Steve is stunned. He knew it was possible, but he wasn't expecting this to happen. Not really. Okay, maybe a little. But not the very first night. He thought it'd give way under heavy use. Not just fall to pieces immediately.

Maybe he put it together wrong.

"Shit!" Eddie yells, "Are you okay?"

Steve's fine, but that was a rough ride. Eddie's somehow still in his ass, but he's gone half-hard from the unexpected scare.

It really shouldn't have been so unexpected. Steve definitely predicted this exact thing to happen.

"I'm pulling out," Eddie says, and Steve laughs.

"Sounds like a solid plan," Steve answers, bracing for it.

Eddie laughs with him as he eases out of his body.

"You sure you're okay?" Eddie asks, rubbing his hand against Steve’s back.

"I'm fine," Steve assures. "The bed? Uh, I think we killed it."

Eddie laughs, then accuses, "Why would you pick this bed?! You nearly killed us!"

Steve just laughs. Eddie picked the bed, but he'll take the blame. He doesn't mind.

"Are you really okay?" Eddie asks, laying his cheek on Steve's back.

"I'm fine. You didn't break your dick, did you?"

"No. Just scared it," Eddie teases, pressing his lips to Steve's shoulder. Again. And again.

Steve knows Eddie's kissing his moles. It's not an unusual occurrence.

Once they've caught their breath, and stopped laughing, they get dressed and clean up the broken pieces, throwing them in a pile, then shoving their mattress on the floor.

"This'll do," Eddie says.

And Steve nods. It will, for now. He knows Eddie's bed at home didn't have a bed frame, so it's definitely not a necessity to him.

While Steve doesn't want to crawl up off the ground forever, they can do it for a while until they find something. They're still young.

Steve looks in the phonebook the next day for thrift stores in the area. He's gonna find something heavy. It can be ugly as sin, as long as it's made of actual solid wood. He writes down five places that advertise furniture, not just clothes, and they get in the truck and go.

The first place has nothing, but the second has something that's perfect. It's a little scratched up, but it looks like it'd stay exactly where they put it. And it's a bargain, with two nightstands included in the price.

Steve watches as the employee takes the tag to the front, and organizes for the pieces to be taken to the truck.

He pays, and outside, in the daylight, it's uglier than he thought. The lamp that Eddie has in his hand is absolutely hideous. It has fringe. Together, it feels like it weighs a combined thousand pounds, but Eddie helps him load them into the back of the pickup.

The new frame is not easy to put back together with no instructions, but he finally gets it done. And Eddie flips the switch on the lamp that's now on his nightstand.

"Let there be light," Eddie says, and Steve flops on the bed.

It doesn't give an inch.

But maybe later, if he's lucky, Eddie will give him seven.

Notes: IKEA was in the US by the late 80s, just not near Hawkins. So, if this stuff came from IKEA, they moved far, far away for this one to happen, lol.

And here's a little piece on how IKEA utilized the power of the Allen wrench for their flat pack furniture.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun! 🛏️

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

#steddieholidaydrabbles #domestic fluff #steddie au #silly fluff #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles

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plutoswritingplanet · 2 years

Text

White Rabbit pt.2 (Peter Ballard x Female!Reader)

PART 1

a/n: first of all, i am so fucking sorry it took so long. life kept kicking me over the head, like i was a damn football. but, i’m here now. Started writing it....had a breakdown... bon appetit

Warnings: NON-CON, a lot of threatening, Possessive Behavior, Explicit Sexual Content (oh, you know guys, the usual)

Summary: As you keep getting stalked by the visions sent by Vecna, one moment of peace gets cruelly interrupted.

One pill makes you larger.

There is no way in hell you'll be able to listen to this song again, after this whole ordeal is over. It's already becoming quite annoying, your brain seeking other means of stimulation every time you are forced to rewind the tape. It was your favorite song, of course, but you had so many different ones. You missed Jimi Hendrix, you were not going to lie.

The base continues to repetitively resound throughout your brain, mixing with the ever-present ticking of a grandfather's clock. Sometimes, you can almost make out the familiar shape, the white face with beautiful, ornate numbers. It emerges between the paneling of Max's camper, resurfaces from the drying patches of grass, when you look out the window. Every single sighting, a reminder of your shameful encounter from days before.

Arguably, Max went through her curse in a much more agreeable state than you. The little ginger kept her headphones on dutifully, giving you an annoyed glance, when you took a bit too long to put on yours. Guilt squeezed the insides of your stomach in vice-like grip, whenever she looked at you with this unreadable expression of hers. Like she could read your scrunched eyebrows, deduce the whole story from the way you bit your lip whenever the monster's name was mentioned. She knew something was wrong, of that you were certain. And despite all that, despite the shame consuming your insides, you still wanted nothing more, than to hold the child's hand, to tell her everything was going to turn out fine. Even if you didn't believe a word from that sentiment.

There was a plan forming. A very half-assed plan, that had nearly as many holes, as Swiss cheese. But it was the best you lot had, and after hearing Nancy's prophetic visions, you knew, there was little time for thinking. When you first heard that Vecna, One, Henry, whatever his name was, had imprisoned Nancy in the Upside Down, had shown her nightmares beyond comprehension, your blood ran cold. What did she see, what did he show her? Did she know about your little altercation in her bathroom? Hopefully not. You couldn't stand the thought of your friend knowing about your momentary lapse of strong will.

- He only has one kill left - Dustin says gravely, his hand squeezing your wrist.

You can't look at him. Can't stand seeing your brother worry so much, especially since you are supposed to be the one looking after him. Perhaps Vecna was right, perhaps you really did fail him. You shudder under the oppressing thought, squeezing your eyes shut, so no one can see your pained expression. Despite all that, the feeling of his eyes burning holes into your face makes you twist your palm. You give his smaller hand a hard squeeze, one, that hopefully conveyed just how much he doesn't have to worry about you. Even if you can always hear the sound of the clock just below the music. Even if Vecna keeps sending you visions of spiders crawling over your friends shoulders, little reminders, that after all, you are completely and utterly alone.

Your eyes drift towards Max. She stands straight as an arrow, staring with unseeing eyes, a deep scowl on her face. Your heart nearly wrenches itself out of your chest. This poor fucking kid.

You'd never tell this to Dustin, or anyone else, to be frank. But when Vecna inevitably attacks again, you wish he'd go after you. Max doesn't deserve this, any of this, and despite knowing that you're not ready to die, you'd give yourself over in the blink of an eye, to save her. To save any of the kids. You've watched them grow, alongside your brother, and you'd be damned if you didn't consider every single one of them family.

You've taught Dustin how to ride a bike, your daily lessons quickly gaining an audience of his three friends. Not only that, but you made them sandwiches, when they started hanging out for hours on end, becoming the cool sister. One, that smuggled them sweets and soda, when their parents worried about potential rotten teeth.

Which is why you raise your hand immediately, when the subject of a trap entered the room. You needed to keep Vecna occupied, keep him in one place while others got to his lair. So, the most logical answer would be, to give yourself over. Serving yourself on a silver platter, and praying it gives everyone enough time.

Max leaves the camper, the moment the decision is made. She can't look at you. To be quite honest, not one person from the group can hold your gaze. The pity painted on their faces is making you squirm. It's a small price to pay for stopping the end of the world, and there were quite a few ideas already brewing in your mind.

You wonder how much you can really push your luck.

He did say, he wanted to keep you, savor the guilt or whatever the fuck he enjoys tasting these days. You'd be lying, if the prospect of using this newfound connection to the monster didn't fill you with a sense of anticipation. The memory of his tormenting touches both painful and arousing. What do the people call it? The Call of The Void? You've read about it sometime ago, during one of your weekly raids conducted on the local library. It is a phrase used to describe an unexplainable impulse to hurl yourself into the void, be it height, or, in your case, the life-ending embrace of a monster.

The hot summer air hits your face, as you exit Max's camper. The whole team wearing determined expressions on their faces, the plan slowly rolling into action. You fell behind the group, lost in thought, a deep scowl painting your features as you mulled over all the possible outcomes. None of them were without gigantic risks, and you dreaded for the safety of your friends. Max had explained to you her idea, how to keep Vecna at bay, how to hide from him inside your own mind. Since then, you kept mulling over any happy memories you could find. Prom night, your sixteenth birthday, the day the group first introduced you to Eleven. Images flash behind your eyes, as White Rabbit slowly comes to an end. The grass under your feet is starting to become yellow from the unreleting sun.

That's when a gentle hand on your wrist catches your attention, snapping you back to reality from the confines of your daydreaming. Gentle, brown eyes peer at you from under a cheap rendition of a Michael Myers mask. One of his slender hands drags the rubber up, so the man can look at you properly. Curse him and his dimples, you think, as Eddie Munson smiles at you. There's worry painted across his face, as his eyes swipe all over you, taking in your expression like this is the first time you've seen each other.

- Hey - he says in a hushed whisper, and you can't help but smile at his casual tone.

You can feel his rings drag the material of your shirt, when he rubs his hand on your shoulder in a comforting gesture. Never, not once in all the years you knew about, or heard about Eddie Munson, did you notice the way his eyes reflected rays of sunshine. It is truly a shame your brother didn't bother to introduce you before all hell broke loose. At the same time, maybe it was for the better. Your mother would surely develop a heart disease from all the stress, after seeing her children hang around a man such as Eddie. Light catches on one of his rings, and you are cruelly reminded, that time does not, in fact, stay still, no matter how much you wish it to.

- Hey - you answer, cheeks already forming a blush, to your inner despair.

- You okay? You look kind of... not...here - his hands move, when he speaks, even when he tries to be subtle.

To that, you smile, a shaky one, but a smile nonetheless. A chuckle escapes you, one, that startles you in its sincerity. Eddie smiles as well, cheeks coming up to frame his beautiful, dark eyes.

- Yeah, well, being the bait will do that to you - you attempt to joke, even if the words leave a bitter taste on your tongue.

You can clearly see a shadow of concern flash across his face, as his hand squeezes your shoulder a bit tighter. He's one of those people, who wear their emotions clear as day. There's no guessing about what he's feeling, and you appreciate that. From all the new and terrifying things barging into your life, Eddie proves to be the least confusing.

- I wish I could tell you everything will be alright - he sighs, eyes leaving your face in favor of dancing across the space between the two of you.

- You don't have to, really - you assure him, one hand coming up to rest atop his, giving his slender fingers a soft squeeze, hopefully conveying everything your words cannot.

His face stretches out in a smile, eyes sparkling with that gentle expression you've come to anticipate. And then, you blink.

And when you open your eyes, there's no Eddie.

Instead of his familiar frame, your eyes fall onto a stained-glass rose, floating into the red sky, right in front of your face. You scream, stumble back, until your foot catches onto some sort of root, and you fall backwards. Your body collides with the wet surface underneath, something rotten immediately seeping into the fabric of your clothes, red substance splashing across your shoes. The sight wrenches a gag from your throat. The air is thick and unpleasant, residue clings to your skin, invading your eyes and nose. You cough into a balled fist, and shudder at the unpleasant, tearing feeling in your larynx. Then, just as you're about to take a shaky breath, something wraps itself around your throat.

Before you can even think of screaming, your oxygen gets cut off, and you are forcibly yanked up, to your feet. As much as you struggle and wail, you cannot contort your head back enough, to see, what is holding you captive. It feels raw and fleshy on your skin, and if you focus hard enough, you can almost distinguish four, sharp fingers along with a thumb, squeezing down. Your legs kick out, as you begin to feel lightheaded, and just as the corners of your vision begin to fade to black, the hold loosens. The gasping breath you take feels like razors going down your throat. You take it anyway, despite the pain, tears springing in your eyes.

- So troublesome - you hear a terrifyingly familiar voice, words muttered into the crown of your head, lips moving in your hair.

Fear, like living ice, climbs up your entire body, when the realization as to where exactly you ended up in, falls on you like an avalanche. There's various debris flying around you. Pieces of wooden structures, gigantic, warped remains of cement, smaller rubble falling from the sky. Pieces of a home, you realize, as you begin to recognize wooden columns, a set of ornate stairs, windows. Out in the red space, a familiar grandfather's clock begins to spin, slowly, like it has all the time in the world.

- Let me go - you mutter, brain beginning to slow down, some sort of confounding fog coming over your senses, one, which you refuse to associate with desire.

There's a chuckle, clawed fingers flex around your neck, sharp nails retracting. Soon, there's no memory of a monster holding you captive, and if you look down, you can see a blurred image of a familiar white shirt. He's back to playing pretend, or so it seemed. You'd be lying, if you said you weren't grateful for that small change. It helped to keep your mind from breaking, well, from breaking completely. You want to scream, to tear your body away from this creature, which has caused nothing except blood and suffering. But as you boil on the inside, there's a pressure at your back. A warmth of a body being pressed against yours.

Another hand finds its purchase around your waist, fingers dragging across your shirt, toying with the hem, but never quite catching your skin.

- You know - he starts in a light voice, goosebumps erupting all across your skin from the feeling of his breath fanning over the back of your neck - I never liked sharing.

There's an edge to his deep rumble, one, that makes you open your eyes and hold your body taunt as a string. But he's breathing. My God, he really is breathing. Which means, either he learned how to pretend to be human, even more convincingly... Or he was real, tangible, not some figment of your corrupted mind.

- My mother, my stupid, pathetic mother, used to make me share all my toys with my sister. All my childhood I've never had anything, that was truly mine.

At the word "mine" his head dips down behind you, nose burying deep into the juncture between your shoulder and your neck. You shudder yet again, as he takes a long whiff of air, before letting out a nearly sinful groan. It shakes the very bones inside of you, and your body immediately reacts, a familiar pressure of arousal seizing your lower stomach.

- Which is why - he continues after composing himself, voice still slightly rough - I do not enjoy my things being taken away from me, even for a second.

There's a pregnant pause between the two of you, and you realize, he's waiting for you to say something.

Your brain scrambles for any response to this vague sentiment he has presented you with. Taken away? You weren't taken away in any way, shape or form. He let you go, quite literally. So, you stand, eyes still searching for any means of escape, as you feel him move against your back, like a restless snake. His head comes to rest upon your shoulder, and you know he's looking at your face. His eyes bear into you, drilling holes into your cheek, as if he's trying to see your teeth through your skin. He probably can. This is his domain after all.

- I don't know what you're talking about - you seethe through your teeth, testing your strength against his grip.

Another chuckle, but this one sounds too cold, too humorless, and with a gasp, you feel his hand leave your throat, fingers immediately digging into your hair and grabbing a handful. Then, he spins you around, like a ragdoll, until you are forced to look him in the eye. The beautiful, blue eyes, ones, which holds a cruel glint of sinister pleasure at the sight of your contorted face.

- Do you think I'm stupid? - he asks, all gentleness leaving his voice, and for a split second, you can see his image flicker, giving you a glimpse of the monster he truly was.

The gasp you let out is drowned by a wet, disgusting sound, as his hands throw you back, causing you to land on your backside. The floor welcomes you just like it did moments before, with this weird, unnatural substance coating your clothes, your skin, your hair. Before you can even think of finding your bearings, the man bends down. His movements elegant and effortless, as he climbs over your body. One hand on your knee pushes your legs apart, until he can sit between them comfortably.

Your breath gets stuck in your throat, when he drags his eyes through the length of your body, before captivating you in that cold gaze of his. There's no escape from his eyes, and the pure evil lurking within. Evil, and something else. Something, he can read from your own face as easily, as one would read the alphabet.

- Please - you breath out, although you're not sure what you're begging for.

His delicate lips stretch out into a knowing smile. But there's no kindness in his expression, and before you can register this familiar, sinister glint in his baby-blue eyes, his hand grips your throat yet again. This time, his muscles twitch, and you gasp, as your head gets pushed to the ground. Liquid seeps into your hair, dyeing it the color of rust. The force of the impact shakes the very brain inside of your skull, and as specs of white dance around your vision, you try your best to focus on his features.

He leans in, keeping his gaze fixed on your disoriented face, until you can feel the illusion of a breath tickle your temple. Then, you fight to surpress a moan, when he drags his teeth over your earlobe.

- I told you, I will destroy all your friends, everyone you love - he whispers cruel words in the most tender of tones.

Your blood runs cold, and he pins you to the ground, as your body tenses up.

- And, because you force my hand, I will make sure Edward Munson suffers the most.

Panic, bloodcurdling and sudden like a shockwave, ripples through your entire body. Suddenly, you realize why you're here. Because you smiled at him, because you entertained the notion of exploring further relationship... Because you knew you were chosen by the monster, and you still wanted the hero.

- No - your voice is weak, and so is your body, as you start to struggle under his lithe form.

- Oh yes - the monster leans back, to look at your face, a beautiful, radiant smile painting his features - Yes, because it will hurt you. Yes, because I want to see your heartbreak. I want you to understand, without a doubt, that there is only one person in all of the universe you belong to.

Tears start to pool at the corners of your eyes, pain and regret twisting your features. Eddie's face worms itself into your mind, beautiful, brown eyes hollowed and bloody, jaw unnaturally bent.

- And that person - Vecna's image shifts, as rage shakes his stature atop yours - Is me.

Nothing could prepare you for the kiss he has wrenched out of you. His lips soft and unrelenting, as they descended upon yours, like a thunder from the sky. Teeth clink against yours, when he demands access to your mouth, one, you're determined to withhold. That's when his free hand grips your jaw in a vice grip, fingers pressing into your gums, until you are forced to open your mouth. He's quick to fill it, wet tongue immediately searching every crevice it can reach.

Despite it's cruelty, your back arches into the kiss, body writhing underneath him. Your eyes remain tightly screwed shut, as you let the monster take it's fill of you. Hand twists your hair, adding even more pressure at your scalp, and soon you start to worry he'll rip out a chunk of your locks. His other hand is restless as well, traveling the expanse of your stomach, worming itself under the cotton fabric of your shirt.

The feeling of his fingers digging into the flesh of your breast is familiar. Reminiscent of your previous encounter in the bathroom, although much more terrifying.

Because now, you know this isn't just a game you're playing with the monster on your own.You've dragged another, innocent person along with you, straight into the void. Tears preak the corners of your eyes at the mere thought, of what Vecna has in store for your hero.

- Tell me... - his melodic voice brings you back to reality, eyes snapping open, as you gasp for air.

He looks as unaffected as ever, his illusion of a face just a breath away from yours. You marvel at how realistic it looks, at the way you can see the texture of his skin. The way his flawless cheeks now carry a shade of pink so pretty, you almost forget what he is.

- Tell me... - he repeats, softer this time, his palm sliding from under your shirt, in favor of finding one of your hands.

He brings your arm closer to him, leaning away so he can press a kiss right at your wrist. Your eyes flutter at the gesture, and shame mixes with desire in your gut. He has no right, being what he is, and still doing what he does to you.

- Tell me... - a whisper, lips ghosting over the underside of your forearm.

- When he touches you - your body goes rigid, but he doesn't deter, a ghost of a kiss in the hook of your elbow - Do you feel safe from me?

Your eyes lock, blue encasing yours like the deepest parts of the ocean, dragging you down, and down, towards the darkest of hells. You feel so stupid now. Just another idiot girl, thinking she can outrun unstoppable evil. Thinking, she can find a safehaven in some oblivious boy she barely knew.

But there's still some fight left in your bones, and as his head dips below to bite at your shoulder, you strike. Bending your arm at a speed you're quite surprised you possess. Your fingers find purchase against some fleshy vine creation. It twists in your grasp, a living organism of it's own, despite coming out of his body. Without much of a thought, you pull, fast and ruthless, until the vine pops free. Hot, dark liquid covers your hand, sticking to your skin in a disgusting coat.

The reaction is instantaneous.

Vecna snarls, his body flinging itself off of yours, as he grips the side of his neck. The illusion is gone. What once was a beautiful, angelic man, now is an aglamation of vines and leathery skin. You don't wait any longer, scrambling to your feet. Sneakers you've picked up at a garage sale years ago nearly fall off of your feet, as you throw yourself into a sprint. Muscles scream at you, from under your skin. They've never been used quite as intensely as this, and you know full-well, you won't be able to keep this tempo up for long.

There isn't really any place to run, your mind being completely infected by this vision of a red wasteland. Staying here would be a death sentence however, so, you choose an unfamiliar line of trees, somewhere in the distance. Perhaps, you could hide inside the forest. Wait out, until your friends find a way to help you. Because they will find a way. They aways do.

All your hopes are snuffed away in an instant. You make marely a couple of steps towards your supposed freedom, when a hand grabs at the back of your shirt. Stitches tear, as your body is flung in the air, landing with a sickening splatter right at the bottom of the lonesome, wooden stairs. Every bone in your body hurts, adrenaline making your muscles shake so much, you can't support your weight enough, to push yourself up.

Vecna descends upon you, a wicked snarl twisting his monstrous features. Your head starts to pound, images of the monster and the angelic boy flicker, mixing together right in front of your eyes. You don't know, what you're looking at. You don't know, which face you punch with all your might.

Henry Creel falls onto the floor, as your foot kicks out, hitting him right in the stomach. Vecna gathers himself up, and pounces on you again, as you try to crawl up the stairs. Then, it's Henry again, putting his hand around your neck in a gesture so familiar, it doesn't shock you anymore. Vecna glitches through, as you show your teeth, like a wild animal, that fights as hard as it can, before being put into a cage.

- Get the fuck off me - your voice is raw, breathless, as Henry's human form finally stabilizes for good.

Blonde locks fall in front of his eyes, framing his face in a way you've never seen before. There is wildness and rage in his gaze, one, you mirror with a feverish look of your own. Then, time stops, for only a second. Your breaths mix together, lips so close, you can almost feel them biting into your skin. There's anger brewing under your skin, a writhing, ugly feeling, much like his true form. But there is also desire, newly awakened by this short chase.

- Remember this - he whispers into the space between the two of you, and your eyebrows shoot up in confusion - I am going to ruin you completely.

He doesn't kiss you on the lips this time. Instead, his head dives down, immediatelly attacking your neck, teeth scraping that one place, where he can see your pulse run rampant. With a loud moan, you let go, finally giving yourself up. Jumping into the Void with arms wide open, ready to embrace the nothingness. Henry doesn't waste time, his hands drag your shirt upwards, your arms nearly dislocating, as he forcefully tears the fabric from your body. And you let him, your skin growing hungry for his touch with every second.

Then, comes the time for your pants. You slide down two steps, when this monster of a man fights with the damp fabric. Finally, he frees your legs, throwing the offending piece of garment somewhere into the red void.

The wooden steps dig painfully into your legs and your back. Your head bumps into the edge of the railing, and you pray your injuries don't transfer to the real world. If you ever make it out of here. Henry's body writhes between your open legs, as he unbuttons his white pants. Somehow, his attire remains unaffected by the grime of the surroundings. Your brain is too focused on him, on his fingers tearing into your flesh, to remember, that his current form is an illusion.

It certainly doesn't feel like an illusion, when he yanks your underwear to the side, and enters you in a swift movement of his hips. Your back arches from the steps, legs flailing, as you struggle to accommodate his size. While your first encounter in Nancy Wheeler's bathroom was all about teasing you, this feels more urgent, like there's truly some grand shadow of a time running out, hanging over you both.

Nails dig into the wood of the stairs, scraping the laquered coating. You don't know what to do with your hands, with any of your limbs for the matter. Because no matter where you put them, Henry immediately pistons into your with such force, your body shakes. And, what is perhaps the most terrifying thought of all, it feels good.

The way he pounds into you with reckless abandon, the way his hand comes up to grip your hair. His other hand holds tightly onto the wooden railing, muscles working overtime under the white fabric of his shirt. His head burries itself into the crook of your neck, where he pants, groans and whimpers, every sound sending delicious shivers all across your insides. This is you, this is all your doing. Your head falls back at the realization.

The pressure building at a fast pace in your lower stomach makes you buck your hips up, to meet Henry halfway, to take him in deeper.

- Tell me, who do you belong to? - he seethes into your ear, twisting your hair. - Say it's me, only me, who can make you feel this way.

You hate him so much, it shakes you to your very core. But, his thrusts slow down just enough, to make you whine at the loss of stimulation. You were so close, climbing towards your release with each bruising move of his hips.

- Say you're mine - he grits out, looking at you with those baby-blue eyes of his, so cruel and animalistic.

It's just words, after all. Just words, and you were so close.

- I'm yours - you don't recognize your voice, it sounds so far away - I'm your and it's only you, who can make me feel this way.

He seems satisfied, capturing your lips in a biting kiss.

One move is all it takes, a single, brutal thrust of his hips, and you're unraveling. Muscles spasm all at once, and the sound that wrenches itself out of your raw throat can only be described as a howl of a wild animal. He finishes not far behind, his hips stuttering, before finally, he lets out a strangled groan. His arm gives out, falling from the railing to the floor, and the weight of his body feels surprisingly grounding, as you try not to pass out from all the feelings overtaking you.

- Damn you - he whispers, hand grazing your cheek in a manner that could be considered romantic.

"No, damn you" you want to say, but can't find the strength to.

And as you both lay there, squeezed into the corner of the wooden steps, you blink again.

And when your eyes open, all you can see, are beautiful, brown eyes, looking at you with such concern and kindness, your heart breaks.

- Guys, she woke up! - Eddie screams, not once looking away from your face. - You completely lost conciousness back there. Gone! Poof!

His hands are warm on your shoulders, so gentle, so caring. And in that moment, as you look at him with pained expression, painted with guilt and fear of what will befall him, all you can do is break down and start crying.

...

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@justtryingtobecreative @shellbeerocks @potato-dragons @sad-innit @lhsthinkr @z4hr4inhere @m1ndbrand @guyinachair27 @7minutes-tomidnight @rand0m--fangirl @universallycloudkid @fate-huntress @queenofthehellfireclub @ulilililiu @sam28637 @thedoubleexposurephotography @hercherrysong @cc13723things @queenofshinigamis @lokistyxx @darkened-writer @alexiaryder @lauftivy @axxochiisstuff @gayqueen420 @angelicadiabolus @julietsecretdiary @miliewayne @4ud13nc3

#peter ballard x reader #henry creel x reader #my writing #stranger things #vecna x reader #001 x reader #peter ballard #henry creel #tw:dark fic

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