#ah finally some concrete dating

[astonmartinii]

daniel x gradschool reader?? maybe they’re not officially dating but he meets her when he’s in new york and they spend the summer together??

big apple lovin' | daniel ricciardo social media au

pairing: daniel ricciardo x gradschool!reader

sparks fly when daniel visits new york on his winter break

yourusername

liked by yourbff1, yourbff2 and 203 others

yourusername: studying up a storm in the city of my dreams

view all comments

yourbff1 stop being so pretty and so smart

yourbff2 yeah leave some for the rest of us

yourusername omg stopppppp i'm blushing

yourclassmate now zoom in so i can steal some notes

yourusername at least do the stealing urself

danielricciardo

liked by landonorris, redbullracing and 602,785 others

danielricciardo: big city exploring

view all comments

username he's looking so fucking good DAMN

landonorris miss you already

danielricciardo i tend to have that effect

username i'm sad he doesn't have a seat but he seems so much better right now

maxverstappen1 so like none of the pics we took matter?

danielricciardo didn't want to hurt your feelings when everyone ignores you for my sexy ass

newyorkstreetstyle

liked by yourusername, f1wagsupdates and 20,651 others

newyorkstreetstyle: our usual warren street fashion icon has been double trouble recently, obsessed with both.

view all comments

username warren street girl having the best taste in men as well ... mother

username not daniel ricciardo on new york street style do they not know who he is?

username DANIEL CONTENT

username people in the comment section freaking out over the man but warren street girl is the real nyc celebrity here

username warren street girl i do not know you but on behalf of the f1 community thank you for taking away danny's skinny jeans !

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, yourbff1 and 1,237 others

yourusername: found this stray cat in central park, anyone recognise them?

view all comments

yourbff1 idk who he is but he looks freakishly similar to the guy who hasn't left our apartment in a week

yourusername ah yes now you say it they do look strikingly similar

danielricciardo i won't stand for the bullying here !! y/n stopppppp

username what.do.we.have.here

username i'm totally chill about this rn

yourclassmate1 if he gets us all coffee again he can stay for as long as he wants

danielricciardo finally someone on my side

danielricciardo

liked by yourusername, landonorris and 721,663 others

danielricciardo: wet dream concrete tomato or something like that

view all comments

username i am not okay

landonorris you got a gf WE GET IT

danielricciardo i'll leave you to your thirst traps

carlossainz55 low blow ricciardo

danielricciardo LET ME BE HAPPY

username bf!danny is something so personal to me

yourusername whoa what shade of lipstick is that?

danielricciardo a pretty one :)

yourusername

liked by landonorris, yourbff1 and 4,276 others

tagged: danielricciardo

yourusername: final stretch of grad school with some extra motivation

view all comments

yourbff1 believe me everyone in the apartment can hear the motivation

yourusername THERE ARE KIDS ON THIS APP ACT APPROPRIATELY

danielricciardo sorry not sorry

landonorris so this is who the honey badger is obsessed with

yourusername as he should be

username GRAD SCHOOL? educated wag incoming let's go

nyu

liked by yourusername, danielricciardo and 51,678 others

tagged: yourusername

nyu: nyu graduate y/n y/ln has had her graduate study published in the journal of english literature and cultural studies!

view all comments

username so how did danny's dumbass pull a published researcher?

yourbff1 ENGLISH LIT SLAY

yourusername thank you nyu will miss you guys :(

nyu come visit soon!

danielricciardo congratulations smarty pants xx

yourusername love you honey

username she's so mother i can't

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 12,778 others

tagged: danielricciardo

yourusername: grad school ... completed it mate ;)

view all comments

maxverstappen1 congrats y/n !!

danielricciardo love you so much, so glad i met you xx

yourusername thank you for spilling your coffee on my manuscript xx

username they're so cute oh myyyyyyyyy

yourclassmate1 but now we need jobs

danielricciardo

liked by redbullracing, yourusername and 812,673 others

tagged: yourusername

danielricciardo: finally showed the mrs my day job

view all comments

username FULL LAUNCH AT A RACE OH LORD

yourusername so you really are that famous?

danielricciardo who wouldn't be a fan of my face?

yourbff1 so where's our tickets we had to deal with you all spring term?

username she's so fucking pretty STEP ON ME

note: pls enjoyyyyyyy (p.s. there's a lando request i finished but tumblr deleted it from my drafts so i'll get that up asap) xx

#f1 #f1 x you #f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo instagram au #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine

[wandasgf]

HOME VIDEO. 18+. mdni.

pairings: kate bishop + f ! reader

summary: kate's date nights are never... quite what they seem

warnings: hide and seek !, impact play, dom!top!kate, sub!bottom!reader, groping, hair pulling, degradation, strap on

wc: 2.1k

The sound of Kate’s black combat boots against the concrete made you flinch back into the shadow you were currently hiding in. Your back against the crumbling bricks of an old building, trying to make yourself invisible to her sharp eyes. You shouldn’t have been so careless when she said she wanted to take you out, but you were just so overjoyed at the idea of her taking you on a proper date that you had forgotten who it was you were thinking about.

And now you were trapped.

You had no idea where you really were, just that Kate had been driving for about 45 minutes before pulling into an empty gravel lot and telling you to run— so you did.

You ran until you were out of breath and you were sure she was far enough behind you to find a proper place to try and hide like this was some sort of sick game of hide and seek. And it was, Kate was a predator trying to catch her prey and your only hope was to hide until she decided to take mercy on you.

She never did.

Today was no exception, but unbeknownst to you, your girlfriend did have a little surprise for you. In the form of a small video camera she was using to record your little ‘date’, a special purchase she made about a week ago. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.” Her voice rang out in a sing songy tone, she needed to highlight just how excited she was to drag you from your hiding place.

She’s been recording for a few minutes now, talking to the camera as she treks through the forest in the direction she saw you run, capturing the trees and the clearly untraveled path as she walked.

Kate turns the camera towards her now as she ducks under a branch and pushes others out of her way, holding the camera out enough to capture above her shoulders. She grins wide, “I wonder how far she’s gotten. There’s a clearing coming up soon, some abandoned buildings, used to be for an old mine, I think. Not that important anyway, what’s important is that no one ever comes around here. The place is completely abandoned except for, well, us right now.”

When she finally steps out into the clearing she pans the camera around once more to get a shot of the crumbling old buildings covered in overgrown weeds and other such plants. There's a larger main building that stands actually quite well, save for the broken windows and rotted wood precariously holding the glass in place, and what appears to be a few scattered small buildings throughout. Though she supposes it would be more accurate to call them ruins, she laughs at her own thoughts.

Grass is crushed beneath her black combat boots as she walks towards the main building, “If I were a dumb little girl, where would I hide?” She wonders aloud, listening to see if she could hear you moving about, but all she could hear was her own breathing and the snapping of twigs beneath her boots. She had already ruled out what remained of two of the smaller buildings, you weren’t one to lay down to hide, and she’d see the top of your head above the rubble. The main building, though, well that was a possibility. If you had wandered farther than this clearing she’d have to really scold you, she didn’t need you getting lost.

Kate hums idly to herself as she walks, making sure the camera is still recording before she walks through the doorway, pushing the barely attached door open. Hm, maybe you didn’t come through here. Either that or you had learned to start covering your tracks, how cute, perhaps you did have a brain inside that empty head of yours. She scans the inside of the building, the light shining through the barely existent windows and the giant hole in the roof made it much easier to see inside than she thought it would be. “Ah, that’s good, my video will turn out nice.”

She does a quick walkthrough, clicking her tongue when you’re nowhere to be found. “Tch, seems my little girl has gotten better at hiding.” She's getting impatient now, wants to get to the main event. She has half a mind to kick down the door opposite to where she came in to scare you out of your hiding spot, but she can be patient, she can wait. There's no use in rushing things, she’ll find you eventually. The door is already open anyway, how convenient, maybe you weren’t as smart as she thought you were.

Kate turns the camera to face her again, starting to speak as she walks. “My baby and I always like to go on little dates like these. She always screams and cries, but I know she likes it. I catch her admiring the marks I leave on her in the mirror. Such a silly little thing, she thinks I won't notice.”

It's as if she’s talking to an audience, like she’s making some sort of vlog to share with her nonexistent subscribers. She laughs to herself again, maybe she should upload this somewhere. Hm, she’ll think about it later. The camera pans back around.

Your breath hitches when you hear the unmistakable sound of Kate's boots colliding with the concrete floor of the building behind you. They always seemed so much louder at times like this. Your back was pressed against the crumbling brick of one of the taller ruins, backing yourself into the corner and trying to be invisible. But now you can’t hear her anymore, presumably having stepped into the grass again. You can practically hear your heart pounding out of your chest, trying to quiet your breathing and become invisible.

“I can almost taste your fear, baby. Don't you wanna be a good girl and come out for me? Won't hurt you too bad, I promise.”

Her fingers are crossed behind her back.

You can hear her laughing behind you as the sound of her voice makes you take off, quickly scrambling to get up and bolt away. She's got you now. “Here comes the fun part.” Her voice is breathy now as she speaks to the camera, she’s getting excited. She loves the chase. She's running after you quickly, she’s always been faster than you, but she seems to gain on you so much faster today. In fact, you don’t get very far before a hand on your back sends you tumbling to the ground, barely catching yourself to avoid a mouthful of grass and whatever else.

“Isn't she just lovely?” Kate stands over you, panning the camera over your body and getting down on her knees, caging you between her legs. Her breathing is ragged as she grabs your hair with her free hand, “I've got a surprise for you, princess.” And then she’s tugging your head up and forcing the camera in your face, making sure to get a nice shot of the shock on your features. What a wonderful expression, she can’t wait to capture more of your pretty face.

“K–Kate, what?”

Why does she have a camera? Is she filming? What is she going to do with the video afterwards? Your mind is racing as you think of all the possibilities.

She pulls you out of your own head with a tug on your hair, grinning at you, “Well, I just thought it would be nice to make our own little movie. Aren't I so thoughtful, baby? Wait right here.” She gets up to find somewhere to put the camera down, making sure to keep an eye on you so that you stay right where you are.

But really, where would you go? she’d kick you back down before you even got the chance to get up, push your face into the grass and dirt and tell you to stop making such stupid decisions, that you’re just a dumb little girl who doesn’t know what’s best for you.

She comes back and crouches down in front of your face, lifting your head up by your hair and caressing your cheek with her other hand. “I'm gonna turn you into my own personal filmstar, baby.” she grins, “Now stand up, let’s have some fun.” She lets go of you to stand up straight, now, what should she do first?

Almost as soon as you’re up, Kate has you doubling over in pain, a whimper falling from your lips as her fist collides with your stomach. She always thought that was such a sweet noise, hopefully the microphone on the camera can pick it up from where she’s placed it. “Stand up, I said.” She punctuates her words by pulling you back up by your hair. “Have you forgotten how to listen already? I haven’t even done anything to you, baby.”

She takes her time in brutalizing you, groping you while she’s at it, making sure to take extra time in squeezing roughly at your ass. Her harsh punches and kicks leave you crying and whimpering on the ground by the time she’s done.

The toe of her combat boot collides harshly with your side one last time and she laughs at the way you curl in on yourself. It felt like she was hitting the same spot every time, but you know she wasn’t. She hasn’t forgotten about the camera though, about the reason she was putting on such a good show. “You’re so mean, Kate..” She laughs at your pathetic whimper and leaves you to yourself for a moment as she goes to retrieve it, she can’t wait to show you the other surprise she has in store for you.

“Look at how pretty she looks like this, all bloody and bruised, beaten.” Kate zooms in on you, panning over your body so the camera can really take you in, so she can really take you in. She clicks her tongue when you try to cover your face, stepping on your thigh and pressing her weight down until you’re whimpering and moving your hands, “Sorry! S–Sorry, I won’t cover my face…” And then she’s removing the pressure and smiling down at you, “Good girl. Isn't it so easy to listen to unspoken rules?”

She kneels down over your body again, knees hitting the ground with a thud, straddling your thighs and sliding her free hand up your stomach, pushing your shirt up and over your breasts. She grins, wolf-like as she zooms in with the camera, groping your breasts, enjoying the way you squirm beneath her.

Her breathing is getting a bit more ragged as she speaks, her pupils blown as she looks down at you. “Did you wear this just for me, baby? You know how much I love this bra. Did you wear the matching panties, too?” She roughly pulls the cups down underneath your breasts and groans, oh, she’s been waiting for this.

Her questions are rhetorical, they almost always are, she never expects you to respond. She knows how empty headed you get when she’s treating you like this, how overwhelmed you get and how dizzy she makes you feel. It would be unfair of her to expect you to be able to form a coherent sentence, and she’s not that cruel.

Her rough hand runs over your skin, nails raking down your stomach before she slides her palm back up, “I have another surprise for you, princess. Are you ready?” She tugs at your nipple to prompt a response this time and you gasp, arching your back. “Y–Yes! Please, I’m ready.”

She coos at you and pulls back slightly to straighten up, one hand still holding the camera while she starts to unbutton her black jeans with her other hand, unzipping them and reaching into her boxers to pull out the thick strap on you always liked.

You don’t know how you didn’t notice the bulge in her pants earlier, it’s not exactly small or unnoticable. She strokes it as she looks down at you, “I think it’s time we change genres, don’t you? I think you make a lovely little actress, so don’t forget to scream and cry for me. you know how much i love it when you do.”

She points the camera towards your face again, making sure to capture the way your pupils are blown and your bottom lip is caught between your teeth. “Now, come here and get my cock wet, princess. I’d hate to hurt you too much.”

#alice's fics ! #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop imagine #kate bishop smut

[maliciouslove]

𝕄𝕠𝕠𝕟𝕝𝕚𝕥 𝔻𝕖𝕤𝕚𝕣𝕖𝕤

pairing // Tsukishima Kei x Reader

word count // 2.8k

tags // friends with benefits, pining, a little bit of angst, bit of dom/sub dynamic but very badly depicted, semi-public rooftop sex, use of petnames (princess), restraints (belt), edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia, unprotected sex, creampie

It’s ironic that we yearn for summer to come, yet when it finally arrives, it’s over in the blink of an eye. Perhaps good things aren’t meant to last long, perhaps that is exactly what makes them special. 

And each summer spent with him was just that: long awaited, desired, special, yet awfully short lived. 

Tsukishima works overseas, so he only ever comes back home around the end of June staying only until the end of August. It’s the only time he got off work, and he was more than happy to spend it back at home where his family and friends are. Where you are. 

You weren’t dating or anything; you had been friends since highschool, but somehow through the years you ended up in this weird friends with benefits relationship that was in force only for the duration of these two short months. It’s fun and easy: no attachment, no feelings, and the sex is so good. 

You find yourself excited and longing for him to come back home as soon as spring rolls around the corner. When the warm rays of sunshine on your skin remind you of his touch, and you count the days until he comes back. Summers with him are fun, colorful, different. Yet so short. 

And once again, it’s the end of August—the last day of sunny weather and clear, starry nights. The final hours spent with him before he’s gone again. 

You’re sitting on the rooftop, cold beer in hand, back pressed to his chest as his large hands wrap around your waist, his lips ever so gently brushing against your bare neck and shoulders. 

“What are you thinking ‘bout?” His voice is so low and husky in your ear. He trails a single finger up the length of your arm, tapping your jaw lightly with it so you could look at him. 

“About how at this time tomorrow, you won’t be here anymore…” You don’t mean to sound so needy or sad, but your voice cracks at the end and the feelings of uneasiness slip through. You avert your gaze back to the ground, quickly bringing the bottle of beer to your lips just so you can occupy yourself with something else. Just so you could play it off as not a big deal. 

But Tsukishima knows you better than that. He cups your face and brings it close to his, nose brushing against yours in the seconds before his lips find yours, thumb gently tracing down your jaw. You can’t help but smile against his lips as you realize that this is a little gesture he always does when you feel anxious. And without failure, it always calms you down. 

The taste of bitter beer mixes with the sweet taste of his tongue and you find it funny, thinking to yourself ah, how bittersweet. But the way he moves against you, the way his hands trail down your sides, sliding under your shirt… It distracts you from the fact he’s leaving soon. It fills your mind with a fog of pleasure, drowning out the tension and fear.

The night air is cool, yet his touch feels hot against your skin and before you can register it, he’s moving you to lay your back down on the concrete, his much larger body towering over yours. For a few seconds, he just looks into your eyes, and you struggle to read him. It’s funny how he can instantly tell the slightest shift in your mood apart, yet after so many years you still can’t read him, not even a little. 

He brushes a few stray hairs away from your face and smiles down at you. 

“You’re beautiful.”

It’s not the first time he’s said this, but it feels so different this time and you wonder why. His words feel like an inevitable end, like a final act of kindness of some sorts, yet his lips are trailing soft little kisses down your chest which pull you away from the thought. It takes Tsukishima no time to get you out of your tank top, hands following the shape of your hips and waist, sliding up to brush his thumb against your nipple.

His hands never leave your body, they hold you tightly as his tongue explores your breasts, eliciting a tiny whimper from you. His knee is right between your legs, so close to you, you just can’t help but lift your hips up a little so you can grind on his thigh. He’s barely started, but you’re already so needy, your fingers cradle through his blond locks and tug slightly when his hands get close to where you need him the most. 

You watch as he takes his belt off, wrapping it around your wrists. It’s not tight, but it’s enough to keep you in place as he works his way down your body, lips kissing at the hem of your shorts, thumb pressing into your clothed pussy. You still can’t help but feel as if something feels a little off tonight, but the way his every touch lights your skin on fire doesn’t allow you to ponder too long over it. 

It’s not long before all your clothes are discarded, and you’re laying completely naked under the stars while he’s still fully clothed, the only missing part of his outfit being the sweater you’re currently laying on, and the belt around your wrists. His hand runs down the middle of your chest and over your belly sliding down your core where his fingers brush against your slick folds. 

“It’s still summer, people sleep with their windows open. You better keep quiet.” He smiles as he tells you this, a single digit pushing past your entrance at an excruciatingly slow pace. It’s a single finger, but it’s enough to take your breath away and make you mewl under his touch. 

While he pumps his index finger in and out of your pussy, his thumb is softly circling your clit—not enough pressure to tighten the cord in your belly, but not soft enough to make the tension go away. Your walls pulsate against his finger, and your cunt drools, the quiet of the summer night filled with the obscene squelching noise. 

“So fucking needy, look at you, so wet over a single finger. Does it feel good, princess?” 

“Tsukki... Please, I need more…” 

He doesn’t bother responding, simply chuckles and positions himself between your thighs, eyes swallowing up the view of your slick already dripping down onto his sweater. He keeps the slow torturous pace for what feels like forever, but he’s so close you can feel his hot breath on your pussy. The tiniest change of his motion, of his breathing, affects you and it makes you clench around him. 

By the time tears of frustration start pooling in your eyes, he finally adds a second digit. It stretches you out pleasantly, and, quite frankly, two of his fingers are more than enough to drive you mad. Even with the additional finger, he doesn’t increase the pace—he keeps you right there, on the edge of insanity, marvelling at the way your body tenses, your thighs shake. Every spasm of your walls, every flutter of your eyelashes, every half-muffled moan of his name—it all belongs to him right now. 

You’ve been begging for him to change the tempo, to speed up, but when he does you regret your words. His fingers curl inside you, fingertips grazing over your sweet spot, it’s faster now and the tension inside you builds up like a tidal wave, and just when it’s about to crash over you his fingers still. 

He kisses your thighs, blowing hot puffs of air over your clit and giving it a soft kiss while he waits for you to calm down, just so he can do the same thing all over again. 

“Am I not giving you what you want, princess?” You can’t even form the words, you just shake your head, fat tears rolling down your face as you struggle to keep your eyes on his. Another devilish smile and he leans down to lick one of your tears away. 

“You know I like it when you cry for me.” And once again, even though it’s something he’s said to you before, it feels utterly different this time. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but the words leave a sour taste in your mouth and more tears well in your eyes. 

“Wanna cum?” There’s a lilt to his voice, like he’s having fun, like he doesn’t already know how badly you need a release. 

You nod frantically, please, please. His head dips between your thighs again and his mouth latches onto your clit, tongue working over your sensitive nub while his fingers finally pick up the pace. 

When your orgasm comes it is violent. You forget to be quiet, you forget where you are, everything turns dark, and your body shakes with the force of your release. It fills your lungs and brain with pleasure that courses through your body like poison, and every subsequent stroke of his tongue over your clit is a jolt of electricity travelling up your spine. 

“Stop, stop, Tsukki, too much, please,” you beg. 

You try to wiggle away from him, but he’s much larger than you, stronger. His arms wrap around your thighs, and his hands press down on your belly, and you know you won’t be able to escape. His lips and tongue move relentlessly against your pussy, it’s sloppy and the sounds are obscene, mixing with his own grunts of pleasure. You steal a glance at him and you observe how his biceps flex when you try to move away, you see his gaze burning into yours, pupils blown wide with lust, and you almost see the desperation in his eyes. The pure unadulterated excitement of what’s to come. 

A few more expert strokes of his tongue, and you’re coming undone for him again, pulling on the restraints around your wrists as the world turns black again. It’s not as violent as your first orgasm, but it lasts so much longer, like time stretches for the sole purpose of pleasure. Your chest is heaving as you try to calm yourself down, and your eyes are closed shut because everything just feels too much. 

Even without opening your eyes, you can feel him shift above you, hands once again touching you softly, with care and admiration. You can feel the cool breeze on your skin contrasting with the hotness of his every touch. He wipes away the damp hairs from your forehead and places a gentle kiss there, holding it moments longer than the usual which makes you finally open your eyes. 

There he is: on the black canvas of the night August sky, littered with stars that were the only witness of your time together. In this moment, the rest of the world fades away, and you find yourself entranced by the way the moon shines bright behind him, the light creating a halo over his head. Your eyes follow and trace the lines of his face—his sharp jawline, his neck, broad shoulders littered with tiny freckles. The scent of soap, aftershave, and sweat carries in the air, but it doesn’t repulse you. He smells like home. 

You finally match his gaze, and he’s looking back at you as if he’s seeing you for the first time in his life: golden orbs peering back at you with astonishment, with desire, and perhaps a tinge of hope. His eyes don’t leave yours as he gulps rather nervously, licking his lips. 

“I’m being relocated at work.”

It’s so quiet, you can hear the exact moment your heart stops beating. You can pinpoint to a millisecond the exact moment where your world shatters and the gears in your head go in full overdrive. What does this mean?

Is this why he’s been so weird tonight, why everything felt just slightly different? Perhaps he won’t be able to come home anymore for the summer, perhaps… this wasn’t the last time you’re with him this year. Perhaps, it’s simply the last time. 

You don’t even realize there is a fresh set of tears rolling down your cheeks until his thumb brushes them away. 

Time stands painfully still.

“I’m coming back home.”

The tiny gasp that escapes you is swallowed by his lips. He’s never kissed you like this before, with so much need and desperation. One of his hands is at the back of your head, fingers cradling through your hair as he holds you impossibly close and deepens the kiss even more, as if the tiniest gap between you will be too much. His other free hand is quickly undoing the belt around your wrists.

Finally, just as your lungs are about to collapse from the intensity of the kiss, he pulls away. You want to say something, anything, but the words get stuck in your throat and you’re left staring up at him with big doe eyes, lashes still wet from the tears. 

“I don’t have to leave anymore. I don’t have to wait for summer to see you.” 

He smiles, and his eyes shine like little suns in the dead of night. You place your hand on his cheek and trail it down his neck as if to make sure this is real, he is real. 

“Tsukki—”

“Be mine.” 

All the unspoken words, all the feelings bottled up inside you finally break free as your heart hammers against your ribcage. Now it’s your turn to hold him impossibly tight and close as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, whispering barely coherent sentences about how you’ve always been his. Most of the words get lost between sobs, but he knows, he understands and there is a blooming warmth inside his chest. 

Somewhere between sobs you find his lips again, and everything feels different, warmer somehow. Even though it’s late into the night, you can see clearly. The mess of limbs and moans, his fingers tangled in your hair as you struggle to take him out of his clothes. It’s rushed, it’s chaos, but your heart feels like it’s soaring. 

When you’re both finally naked under the moon, he places you in his lap, cock slipping between your slick folds as you rock your hips against his in a rhythm only you two could hear. The cicadas in the distance serenade you. 

You’ve been together for years, you’ve had sex many times, yet it feels much more intense now. Every touch ignites a fire on your skin, every time his fat cock rubs against your clit you can practically see the gates of heaven. 

He looks into your eyes as you finally begin to sink down on his cock, now wet and covered in your arousal, and you hold onto his shoulders for support. He’s big and thick and every vein and ripple on his cock makes your mind reel, until the tip of his cock finally bumps against your cervix and your mind stills. 

He takes it slow, moving your hips to his desired rhythm, hands burning hot on your sides as he guides you and whispers in your ear how long he’s wanted this. How long he’s waited for this not to be just a summer fling, no strings attached. He praises you and repeats over and over again how fucking beautiful you are, how perfect. And while his face is hidden in your neck you can tell by the strain in his voice how much emotion and vulnerability he’s actually showing you right now. 

You cup his face and force him to look at you as your hips pick up the speed, angling themselves as you bounce up and down on his cock. Tears are welling up in your eyes again but you smile at him. 

“I love you, Tsukki.” And you can see it, the shift in his eyes, the way they mellow out and turn to golden honey, the way his feelings shine behind his irises, so vivid and beautiful, so intense. 

You can feel the tension building up inside you, and it’s the next words he whispers to you that finally make it snap. 

“I love you too.” 

His hips move up urgently against yours, meeting you halfway as he thrusts inside you, completely losing himself to the feeling. The silence of the night is filled with the sound of skin on skin, the wet squelching of your cunt as he slams his cock inside you, pressing you close to himself but never breaking eye contact. There’s so much feeling in his eyes, so much promise. 

You both cross the edge almost at the same time, your velvety walls spasming and pulsating around his cock which immediately sends him over the edge too, balls tightening and emptying themselves deep inside you. You can feel every twitch of his dick inside you and you close your eyes blissfully, pressing your forehead against his. 

You listen to the sounds of your ragged breathing slowly coming back into rhythm as the cicadas continue their song, and you know…  

Love like this is a promise for eternal summer. 

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑! I do not own any of the characters or people mentioned in my work. these are works of pure fiction that do not reflect the views, opinions, or actions of any person, real or fictional. Furthermore, all characters I write for [thirsts, drabbles, fics, etc.] are aged up to 21 or older – they are adults with adult characteristics presented and written in adult contexts.

all rights reserved © by maliciouslove. my work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License. all fanfics belong to me, please do not copy, translate nor repost the fics or files seen above as this is strictly prohibited.

#unholytext.exe #tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima smut #tsukishima kei smut #haikyuu smut #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima kei x reader #cw.edging #cw.orgasm denial #cw.dacryphilia #cw.creampie #tsukishima angst #tsukishima hurt #tsukishima comfort #tsukishima hurt/comfort

[0x1lovebot]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐞; they better not be fucking‼️

2.3k words. [2,391]

not proofread!!

warnings; mentions of injury/blood. (lemme know if I missed any)

a/n; THIS TOOK WAY LONGER THAN IT WAS SUPPOSED GUYS I AM SO SO SORRY!! I left y’all on a cliffhanger and everything 😭😭 School really got serious and life got really busy and then prom happened so I haven’t had time to finish writing this part but we back now!!! Enjoy 🫶🏾🫶🏾 also the ending feels rushed to me but I truly don’t know how to fix it

y/n sighed as she pulled on a hoodie and sweatpants over her t-shirt and pajama shorts. it was 2 am and she had just finished studying for the night. to say that she was exhausted would be a severe understatement. hell, when riki texted her, she almost didn’t answer, thinking that whatever he needed could be dealt with in the morning. all she wanted to do was turn off her lamp, crawl under the covers and finally get some sleep but, something in her gut told her to look at the message. it was a good thing that she did.

of all things y/n expected to hear from riki, finding out that he was at a police station, was at the very bottom of the list. she knew that parties could sometimes get out of hand but to hear that jake and baekhyun got arrested was insane. all she could do was hope that they were okay and neither would press charges against the other.

with one last look over her living room, y/n grabbed her keys and shut the door to her apartment. y/n left her building quickly and started her walk to the police station. if jay found out she was walking alone in the dead of night, he would probably scold her for being so stupid and lecture her about how unsafe it was, which she already knew but desperate times called for desperate measures. there was no time to call an uber or get a taxi or something. plus her apartment building was only a few blocks away so y/n thought if she walked fast enough, she would be fine.

it only took a few minutes before y/n arrived at the police station. she jogged up the concrete steps and pulled open the glass double doors of the building.

the bright lights of the lobby were a huge contrast to the dark night sky, making y/n squint her eyes to adjust. when she could actually see clearly, y/n scanned the lobby hoping to find someone that could help her find her friends. y/n didn't expect anyone to be there at this hour so a wave of relief washed over her when she spotted a receptionist sitting at a desk on the far right of the lobby.

“um excuse me?”

"how can I help you dear?" the receptionist at the desk asked.

"hi i'm here for someone named 'jake sim'. he was arrested tonight." y/n said politely.

the receptionist gave a light smile as she looked up from her computer. "ah, you must be the girl mr.nishimura told me to look out for. y/n l/n right?"

y/n scratched her neck awkwardly. "yeah, that's me."

"well he and your friends are right in there with officer bang." the receptionist pointed to another set of double doors across from the desk.

y/n thanked the woman with a smile and made her way toward the doors.

"oh and y/n?” the receptionist called. “i hope you have a first aid kit. your boyfriend really did a number on that other guy."

y/n stopped in her tracks and turned to face the woman. "my boyfriend?"

"yes, mr. sim. he made that other guy all black and blue.” the receptionist raised an eyebrow at y/n’s shocked expression. “mr. nishimura told me you two are dating.”

y/n raised her eyebrows at the statement. “oh. well thanks for the heads up.”

and with that y/n turned back around and continued her walk to the double doors. she couldn't understand why riki would straight up lie to the poor woman about that, but she also couldn’t deny the warm sensation she felt at the thought of jake being her boyfriend. y/n mentally cursed herself for thinking about that at a time like this but she couldn’t help it.

y/n grasped the handles of the double doors and pulled them open slowly. her eyes widened at the sight in front of her. the room was buzzing with officers working on paperwork and going through evidence. she hadn’t expected it to be so busy.

the officer sitting at the desk closest to the door stood up and walked over to y/n. he was a bit on the short side but the way he carried himself made it seem like he was taller. he was quite muscular as well.

“hello ma’am." the police officer greeted with a charming smile. “how can i help you?”

he had an accent similar to jake's but his voice was a little deeper.

"hi, i'm looking for officer bang. i think he may have arrested one of my friends tonight."

“ah! officer bang is too formal, call me chan.” the officer said. “you must be the one riki told us about. y/n right?"

y/n pinched the bridge of her nose in annoyance. "at this point, who hasn't he told about me." she grumbled.

officer bang let out a light laugh. "you're funny. come on, your friends are this way."

officer bang led y/n across the room in silence, weaving through desks and chairs to the door to the holding cells.

“so are they going to prison?” she asked quietly.

“no. it was just a fight and neither of them have a record so we’re letting them off with a warning.”

y/n sighed in relief. “thank goodness.”

“we’re just keeping them here until they sober up. that way they don’t endanger themselves or other people,” he continued. “that’s when they would end up in prison.”

after a few more steps, the two stopped in front of a large metal door. the officer pushed the door open and walked into the room with y/n behind him.

when y/n entered the room she was almost immediately tackled to the ground by riki, who buried his head in her shoulder.

"finally!" he cheered. "we've been going insane without you."

y/n’s eyes widened as she scanned the room. jay, who was usually very put together, was laid out on the concrete floor, asleep. heeseung was giggling to himself in a corner with sunghoon laying his head on his shoulder. and jungwon, the most responsible of them all, was pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself. y/n had never seen her friends so disoriented before.

“how long have you guys been here?” she asked riki.

“like an hour i think. my phone died a few minutes after i texted you.”

y/n eyes drifted over to the holding cells and her jaw almost dropped.

“holy shit!” she gasped

behind the bars of the first cell stood y/n’s ex-boyfriend. and he looked terrible. both his eyes were swollen shut and bruised black and blue, his lip was busted and his nose was bent at a painfully awkward angle. if y/n hadn’t known any better she would’ve thought that he got jumped in an alley. now she knew what the receptionist meant earlier, jake really did do a number in baekhyun.

“y/n? is that you?” baekhyun called. y/n stayed silent. “i recognize your voice. you’re here to bail me out right?”

silence again. sure she felt bad that he was stuck here, but she wasn't there for him. she didn't owe him anything. they were broken up and that was that. and after what happened between them she didn't want to interact with him ever again. all she could hope was that one of his friends would come and get him in the morning. y/n gave baekhyun one last look before turning to face officer bang.

"so what’s the verdict y/n?” the officer asked.

“can you let jake out please? i promise he won't get into any more trouble.”

“if you're with him, i'm sure he won't.”

the officer let jake out of his cell, much to baekhyun’s shouts and protests, and helped gather y/n’s friends out of the room. he led them out into the lobby, ensuring they were all together.

“thank you so much officer ba- i mean chan.” y/n said gratefully, once they reached the lobby.

“no problem. do you think you can handle all of them or do you need some help?”

y/n looked back at the boys behind her. “i think i can handle them.”

“well if you ever do need help, you know where to find me.”

y/n said goodbye to officer bang with a smile, and with riki’s help, she ushered her drunken friends out of the building.

“so what are we gonna do now? ” riki asked once they reached the bottom of the steps.

y/n paused. now that she was out of the police precinct, she had a chance to really stop and think. what was she going to do with them? what could she do with them? it was too late to drive all of them home and she didn’t really trust them to be alone in the state they were in. the only viable option they had was to take them all to her apartment.

“we’ll take them to my place.” she said. “and then tomorrow morning we’ll take them back home.”

“is your apartment big enough for 4 drunk adult men?” jungwon asked. he had calmed down significantly since they left the precinct.

“not really, but i don’t think these 4 can be left unsupervised right now.”

riki and jungwon nodded.

“how are we gonna get there though? walking at this time is not a good idea.” jungwon said.

“you c- you can use my car.” jay slurred from behind them.

y/n looked at jungwon and riki with wild eyes. “did you guys let him drive here?! drunk?!”

“no! of course not! i drove them, jay just let me use his car.” jungwon pulled jay’s car keys out of his pocket and handed them to y/n.

y/n let out a sigh of relief. “ok good. now let’s get these guys out of here.”

with riki and jungwon’s help, y/n herded the 4 boys into jay’s backseat, and did one final headcount before hopping into the drivers seat and starting the car.

the drive back to y/n’s building was short and quiet except for the incoherent mumbles coming from the back seat. when they arrived at y/n’s building, riki and jungwon, who were squeezed into the passenger’s seat, got out of the car first. riki helped jake and sunghoon out of the back while jungwon took jay and heeseung. y/n locked the car door and made sure everyone had everything before leading the boys up to her apartment.

while riki and jungwon situated the other 3 guys in the living room, y/n led jake to her bathroom so that she could patch him up. after sitting him down on the toilet seat, y/n pulled the first aid kit out from under the sink and got to work. the two sat in awkward silence as she wiped the blood off his face. neither of them knew what to say. jake looked up at y/n as she lightly dabbed the cut on his brow with an alcohol swab. her eyebrows were furrowed with concentration. he could see exhaustion written all over her face and it made him feel guilty. she should’ve been asleep hours ago but instead, she was stuck dealing with him and his drunk friends.

“y/n, i’m sorry.” y/n stopped dabbing the cut on jake’s left cheekbone.

“you’re sorry?” she asked.

“yes. i’m sorry you got dragged into all of this. you must be tired from studying all night and then you had to get us from the police station and now you're stuck patching me up and it just isn’t fair to you.” jake rambled. “and i know you must be mad at me for beating up your boyfriend and i get if you don’t want to speak to me anymore because of that, but i couldn’t just let him get away with what he did.”

“jake,” y/n called gently. “it’s okay. i’m not mad at you.”

“you’re not?”

“of course not. i know you were defending me and it was very sweet of you. i don't think beating up my ex-boyfriend was really necessary, but i still appreciate it.” she said as she started cleaning the other cut on his lip.

“wait,” jake held y/n’s hand gently, halting her dabbing motions. “what do you mean ‘ex-boyfriend’?”

“we broke up a couple of weeks ago. we got into this huge argument and we just ended it there. it was a long time coming though.”

“oh.” jake paused. “what was the argument about? if you don’t mind me asking.”

“it was mostly about you.”

jake’s eyes widened. “me?”

“yeah. baekhyun was telling me to stay away from you, he thought the way you were so nice to me was weird and that you were only doing it because you were into me.” y/n sighed. “i knew that couldn’t be true because you’re always so sweet to everyone. that’s just who you are.”

the bathroom fell silent for a second.

“he was kind of right you know. about the ‘me being into you’ thing.” jake mumbled.

“what?”

“i‘ve had feelings for you ever since we were partnered up in high school. and then when we got to college i wanted to make a move but you got together with baekhyun so i tried to move on but i just couldnt. i fell too hard. you have no idea how hard it was to see you with him knowing that he got to hold you, and be with you and i couldn't.”

y/n shifted slightly under jake’s intense gaze. “i don’t- i don’t know what to say.”

“you don't have to say anything. i just wanted to get that off my chest. i probably ruined any chance i had with you anyway.” jake sighed, looking down at his lap.

y/n placed her hand under his chin and tilted his head up to meet her eyes. “well i wouldn’t go that far.”

jake’s eyes twinkled with hope. “really? you mean i still have a chance?”

y/n smiled lightly. “yes. just give me some time ok?”

“ok.”

⏮️ previous | masterlist | next ⏭️

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🏷️; @quokkasunggie @lilactangerine @ckline35 @theskzvibe @ily-cuz-i @iloveoceaneyesss @gongiz @jakewife @yenqa @kaislinging-slasher01 @bangchan-fairy @enhy4me2 @neozon3nha @viagumi @wondering-out-loud @liliansun @woneulz @cha0thicpisces @ahnneyong @octubreuno @curly-fr13s @alywalysenpai @mimimovv @calumsfringe @homelycat @thia-aep @enhastolemyheart @redm4ri @xiaoderrrr @ddenoudepression @wonniestars @apsrk2040 @ja4hyvn @shinsou-rii @cherryunie @jinsfavoritedoll @beomsbeanie @primroselover @hoonieluv @bluxjun @herefornamu @taylvvrr @iaaah @soonyoungblr @jakemyluv @koeuh @silquids @sumarchived @sserafimez @lomzy5 @jjakery

taglist is open. send an ask or message me if you want to be tagged. bold urls couldn’t be tagged.

© 2023 copyright. all rights reserved. @0x1lovebot.

#enhypen jake x reader #enhypen jake #enhypen #enhypen x reader #jake sim #jake sim x reader #jake sim imagines #jake sim smau #jake sim scenarios #jake sim fluff #jake sim fanfic #sim jaeyun #sim jaeyun x reader #sim jaeyun imagines #sim jaeyun fluff #enhypen social media au #enhypen smau #enhypen fluff #enhypen crack #enhypen angst #enhypen heeseung #enhypen jay #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen sunoo #enhypen jungwon #enhypen niki #faithwrites🌱

[eddies-ashtray]

When The Rain Starts To Pour ⌂ Chapter 1: The One Where Eddie Hates Paul

 ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

Pairing: Eddie x Fem!Reader

Chapter Preview: 

“You smoke?” You ask, pointing at the cigarette held delicately between his index and middle fingers. You’re feeling a little awkward for some reason. Maybe because you’re not used to Eddie being silent. 

Eddie sniffs, says, “Yeah. Trying to quit.” Then snuffs out the half-smoked stick by crushing it against the concrete. He knows the habit might bother you. It bothers the others as well; Nancy has called it a ‘cancer stick’, Steve has often taken to flushing his cigs in protest, and Robin simply informs him that it stinks. He also knows that you have your date with Paul tonight, and as much as he dislikes the guy, he doesn’t want you smelling of smoke for your date. 

“Hm,” You hum, coming up beside him and leaning over the wall, a blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders. You shiver and he has the urge to remove his leather jacket and wrap it around you. 

There’s a lull then, in which Eddie wonders why you might have come out here. From the sounds of your prior conversation with Robin, you need to start getting ready for your date soon. Why come out here just to stand around with him in the cold? 

CW: Brief discussion of financial struggles, vague talk of poor parental relationship (not necessarily abusive though), jealousy, loneliness, reader talks of being unhappy in her previous life circumstances, probably lots of bad jokes, poorly concealed Friends references, age gap (between reader and Paul), lots of tropes, non-canon compliant (duh—but also the upside-down does not exist), kinda pervy/douchey behaviour from Paul (nothing crazy though, just generally douchey).

 WC: 17.4k

 A/N: Ah! It’s finally here! I am so so so excited to share this first chapter with you after so long. I really hope it lives up to expectations. I just wanna note that while writing, I imagined the coffee shop and the apartments from Friends, so the decor and layout of each of those places are pretty much the exact same in my descriptions of them. Here’s a link to the apartments and coffee shop layouts if you’re interested. Also, I am going to do the best I can to make this era- and setting-appropriate, but keep in mind that I was not born in the 90s, nor am I from New York City (or the US in general), so there may be some inaccuracies. Anyway, enough of my rambling, happy reading!!

Series Masterlist

Read it on ao3

Next Chapter [coming soon]

 ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

“I’m so broke it’s not even funny! Like, seriously, look,” Robin exclaims before placing her mug of tea on the coffee table and proceeding to lean back awkwardly on the couch so she can turn her pockets out. They are indeed empty–a metaphorical sign of her poverty. 

Nancy clicks her tongue from her spot on a sage green chair next to the couch, reaching over to place a coaster under Robin’s steaming mug. 

It’s a relatively quiet Saturday afternoon at The Ugly Mug, only a couple other patrons milling about and occupying the various other seats around the small establishment. There’s a short woman with long, thin braids seated by the large front window and a stout man in a purple beanie sitting on one of the stools near the coffee bar. There’s also been the occasional patron coming in to pick up a to-go order–bringing in with them a rush of chilly November air–before rushing back out the dark wooden doors. 

“I’m fucking screwed. I can’t afford that big, stupid place alone,” Robin complains, retrieving her tea from the table after she’s tucked her pockets back into her jeans. 

“You could always get a second job,” Eddie offers from the opposite end of the couch, an oversized red mug half-full of very sugary coffee in hand. “Ya know, moonlight as a rockstar like some of the rest of us?” 

Robin rolls her eyes at his over-exaggeration and looks over at him as she replies, “Don’t you guys get, like, one gig per month?” 

“No…We get two gigs per month,” Eddie corrects like the disparity between her answer and his had been larger than it was. 

When he realizes that his correction wasn’t much of a correction, he adds, slightly more helpful this time, “But it’s better than just working in the restaurant. At least I get a little extra every month.” 

Robin sighs. “I guess…But it’d suck to double my exhaustion just to take another job I hate. At least your second job is something you love...I wish I could get, like, a raise or something,” She complains, head falling back against the couch in frustration. 

From beside her, Steve’s hand lands on her shoulder, placing his own mug of coffee on the table before doing so. “Why don’t you-”

“No,” She replies before he can finish. 

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!” Steve defends and Robin lolls her head to the side to shoot him a deadpan stare. 

“I am not putting an ad in the newspaper,” She states plainly. 

“It’s a strategy! How else would you find a roommate?” 

“I agree with Robin,” Nancy pipes up from Robin’s other side. “It’s not safe, Steve. There’s so many freaks out there; you don’t know who you’re inviting into your home.”

“I live with a freak and I’m fine,” Steve jokes. 

“Hey!” Eddie exclaims, mildly offended, and slaps Steve on the arm halfheartedly. “It’s been six years, Harrington, when are you gonna stop calling me that?”

“How about never!” Steve bites back childishly. All too quickly their civilized conversation about Robin’s living situation devolves into an immature argument between two grown men. It’s almost surprising how they manage to live together and not tear each other’s heads off. Despite their silly arguments though, they surprisingly get along quite well–most of the time. 

“Hey! Can we get back on topic, please?” Nancy interrupts, mildly anxious about the eyes of the other patrons on them. Normally, she wouldn’t let others’ judgment get to her; she’s aware that she hangs around a pretty rowdy group of adults, but it’s so quiet in here today and she’d like to keep it that way. 

“Actually, I’m perfectly content right in the middle of this. I could use a distraction,” Robin says, settling into the couch beside the two bickering men.

Sighing contentedly, Robin gets comfortable and shuts her eyes, the soft light of the café causing the back of her eyelids to glow a soft orange. The boys’ bickering continues to her right as Nancy reaches over from her left to squeeze her hand in reassurance. Robin opens her eyes again to turn to her and gives her a tight-lipped smile. 

“I need a roommate,” she concludes, tone solemn. Nancy’s lips part, about to impart some advice when-

The small golden bell above the door tinkles its charming chime as it opens, and in rushes the late November bite, and a frazzled-looking young woman. As she enters the space, she makes such a commotion that Robin startles and turns to take a look at who’s causing the ruckus. The others turn to the door as well (including Steve and Eddie whose bickering has now ceased altogether due to the interruption). 

In her tow is one large suitcase, in her hand is a large black trash bag (the plastic material stretching into a grey colour in some areas), and on her back is a large backpack (stuffed so full that the biggest pocket isn’t even zipped all the way). 

It must have begun to rain at some point during their hours’ long stay at the coffee shop because the woman appears to be quite damp without an umbrella or hood on her jacket. 

Finally, Robin's eyes land on the woman’s face. In a shock, she realizes that she recognizes her. However, seeing as none of her friends are acquainted with the woman, they’re rather occupied by the seemingly magical appearance of this person who looks to be in need of a place to stay at the exact moment that Robin expressed her need for a roommate. The four of them gawk at the woman with the luggage for a moment until someone can’t help himself and must break the silence to acknowledge the absurdity of the situation. 

“And I want to be rich and famous!” Eddie exclaims, gesturing widely to the door. Unfortunately, his wish does not manifest as Robin’s had. 

Robin passes her tea to Steve, who takes it without question as she stands from her spot on the couch, passing Nancy as she rounds it. The woman is at the counter now, though as Robin nears her, the woman is not ordering a coffee or any other warm beverage. 

“Excuse me? Do you know-” You begin, but before you can finish asking the café employee about your friend's whereabouts, you feel a soft tap on your shoulder. 

 “Y/N?” 

Immediately, you recognize her voice and turn around. Many summers and phone calls throughout your childhood and teen years had familiarized you with it. 

Once you’re face-to-face, relief releases the tension you’d been holding in your shoulders. After over 12 hours of driving across the country (maybe more, you stopped keeping track at some point), countless times getting lost (your sense of direction completely failing you, even with the aid of a map and any living soul you came across), many pit stops at dank, shady rest stops, and a lot of fast food later, you’re just happy to see a familiar face. 

“Robin! Thank God! I went to your apartment-” you begin, eager to recount the story of your travels. 

“My apartment?” Robin asks, confused that you’d known her address. 

“-but you weren’t there! And I almost left to look for you myself, but then your neighbour saw me knocking and told me I could probably find you here-”

“My neighbour?”

“-and I thought, ‘It’s worth a shot,’, so I dragged all my shit back down the stairs and through the stupid rain and you’re here! But, come to think of it, I don’t even know why I brought all this stuff up with me instead of just leaving it in the car. Like, that was sort of presumptuous of me to show up at your door with a bunch of luggage, but I guess it probably wouldn’t have been a great idea to leave it in that parking garage anyway,” You finish your rambling, out of breath now and slightly lightheaded. 

That was likely an inappropriate way to greet her after all this time, but you find that you’re exhausted from your travels and electrified with adrenaline from your impulsive decision to come to New York. 

At first, it was nice to get out and stretch your legs after spending half a day in your car, and walk around this new city in search of Robin’s apartment, but now you could just collapse right here on this scuffed hardwood floor. 

Robin’s brows furrow as she tries to process your word vomit, but still cannot find an answer for her biggest question. Though she’s concerned that one of her neighbour’s so easily gave away her location to a stranger who was banging on her door and curious to know how you’d found her apartment, she’s more interested in your story for now. In learning what got you here after all this time.

“Why are you here? I mean-it-it’s great to see you, but, um-why don’t you sit down and tell me what happened?” Robin suggests, leading you gently towards the couch. 

“Okay. Yeah, that sounds great,” You agree, navigating carefully around velvet-upholstered stools with your bags in hand. 

A man with long hair and tattoos stands from the couch to take a seat on a chair to his right in order to accommodate you as Robin helps you place your bags on the floor next to the woman with the curly hair and high cheekbones. 

Finally, you sit down on the plush orange couch next to a happy looking guy with gorgeous, voluminous hair. He smiles at you kindly once you’re settled in and you breathe out, willing yourself to relax so you can attempt to coherently explain your situation to your friend and, apparently, these strangers. 

Their eyes on you make you nervous, but once Robin takes her seat next to you, you feel more at ease. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” Robin reassures as she tucks her legs underneath herself on the couch. You nod, taking one more deep breath and collecting your thoughts before beginning. 

“So-I know this is, like, totally crazy that I just kinda showed up here out of the blue after, what? 5, 6 years?” You begin nervously, looking to Robin for confirmation on how long it’s been since you last saw each other. She nods after turning her body to face you. 

“But I just–I don’t know if you’ve ever felt like this but–I felt like I was on autopilot or something, just kind of drifting through my days: going to work at a boring job with boring people, coming home to my shitty apartment, going to sleep, and doing it all over again and again and again.”

In your periphery, you notice a few of them nodding in agreement and feel relieved at their earnest validation. It gives you the strength to continue your story. 

“And one day I guess I woke up? I realized that I hated where I was, who I was with, what I was doing, what I wasn’t doing. I just sort of…panicked. I knew I couldn’t stay there–in that life and that apartment cause it was, like, a total shithole-”

“Why was it a shithole?” A voice interrupts from your right; The One With The Tattoos. You’d been so into your story for those 30-some-odd seconds that you nearly forgot that it was more than just Robin you were venting to. He seems genuinely curious and well-meaning, so you’re not perturbed by his interruption, only surprised, which is what causes you to pause before answering his question. 

In the moment you take before you respond, you clock the bat tattoo on his forearm (though you’d recognized his inked skin earlier, you hadn’t examined the art close enough to discern what the tattoos were of), among a smattering of many other patchwork tattoos, and hope you remember to ask him about it later (if there is a later with these people–there’s all the chance that Robin could send you packing). 

Finally, you shake off your surprise and respond, “Well, aside from the fact that my apartment was definitely mold-infested and my building had a serious rat problem, my landlord was a total creep.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” He agrees, brows furrowing.

“Yeah. So, I just couldn’t live there anymore, or go back to work, and I definitely was not about to go back home to live with my mother–phone calls once a week are already more than I can handle, I don’t think I could take her constant scrutiny for more than 30 minute increments,” You explain, scoffing lightly. “But, um-” You stutter, looking down at your lap and pulling at the skin of your hand absentmindedly. 

“Anyway…I panicked and I decided that I needed to get out of there as soon as possible, so two weeks ago, I put in my two weeks at work and pretty much packed up my whole life into my car and started driving without a destination…And then I remembered hearing that you’d moved to New York a few years back,” You recall, gesturing to Robin, who smiles warmly back at you.

“So I looked you up in the phone book and when I found your name I just felt like it was the right thing? Which I know sounds kinda kooky, but it was the first good feeling I’d had about something in a long time, so I just decided that I needed to trust it,” You conclude, squeezing your hands in your lap. “And I know it’s a lot to ask of you, especially since it’s been so long, but…is there any chance at all that you might need a roommate?” 

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

When you step inside the apartment, you immediately love the place. For one, it’s bigger than your old apartment and even has a pretty sizable balcony (that can only be accessed through a window). To your left is the kitchen with exposed brick, a simple small table with four mismatched chairs surrounding it in the middle. 

Just past the modest kitchen is the living area, which is just as eclectically decorated as the kitchen with a sofa, a fluffy looking armchair and an armless chair adjacent to each other, a coffee table, and a television set sitting atop a sideboard. Two doors are on either side of the living room. To the left of the living room is a large window (complete with a cozy looking window seat) which looks out onto the balcony. 

You marvel at the place as Robin leads through the apartment, the rest of the crew following in behind you two before the door slams shut and you enter what appears to be a bedroom slash storage space. Despite the bed in the middle, there are things strewn about on the floor, seemingly haphazardly tossed in here and forgotten about. 

After introductions to the group (you now know their names and the fact that Eddie and Steve live across the hall, while Nancy lives a few blocks away), Robin had informed you the available room at her place might be a bit of a mess since she’s been using it as storage space for a while. The only guests she has live close by enough that sleepovers were a rarity. 

“So, this’ll be your room,” Robin explains, rolling your bursting suitcase inside it. Steve enters last, dropping your trash bag full of clothes to the yellow-ish hardwood floor and you do the same with your backpack. 

It’s a fairly nice room; a simple square spacious enough to fit the queen size bed and a side table, while also allowing extra room still for a chest of drawers and vanity (which you will eventually add to the room). 

Though anything without rats, mold, and a creepy landlord would be an improvement, this place is a definite upgrade from your last and you find yourself containing a joyous squeal as you take it all in. You’ve never been a fan of change–enjoying the comfort of familiarity instead–and have always agonized over every decision you’ve made, but for once, you have no doubts about your decision to come here. This actually feels like the first real decision you have ever made. 

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

When Steve opens the building's front door, the smell of fresh rain and pavement hangs in the air, an oddly nostalgic scent. It reminds you of childhood, of early mornings at summer camp with Robin. 

The sun hangs low and bright orange in the sky–it’s getting late so you’ll probably only be able to make one trip to your car and back before the sun goes down, and then have to collect the rest of your things tomorrow. 

Though you grabbed as much as you could carry from your car (which remains parked in a garage about three blocks away) before going in search of Robin’s apartment, you obviously couldn’t take everything with you, so the bags you just dropped off at your new place were only a fraction of the things packed away in your vehicle. 

Robin’s friends kindly offered to help you drag the rest of your belongings back to her apartment. Since none of them have a car, and it is apparently nearly impossible to find parking in this city, you have no choice but to carry everything back by hand. 

You lead the way to the parking garage, Robin at your side and the rest of the gang following behind you. 

As you walk through the city, past storefronts, HELP WANTED signs in windows, and people with briefcases in long coats and giant scarves walking briskly like they have someplace important to be, you’re reminded of an imperative piece of information.

“Robin?” You say as you cross the street. 

“Hm?”

“I don’t have a job here.” 

The whole reason Robin was looking for a new roommate in the first place was because she can no longer afford her place on her own. And you, as her new roommate, have been recruited to help solve that problem for her. But without a job, and a bank account that is less than impressive, you’re on the clock to find a new job–and fast. 

“You can work at Hannigan’s with Eddie and I!” She offers excitedly, her hand smacking your arm in her enthusiasm. Sorry! She apologizes quickly before continuing: “We’ve been working there forever, I can put in a good word for you with the owner.” 

“That sounds great…But what’s ‘Hannigan’s’?” You ask, because in her haste to offer a solution to your little problem, she had left out vital information. Eddie pipes up from the rear and steps forward so he can walk in step with you and Robin as he answers your question. 

The way the sun hits him from behind outlines his body in a soft orange halo, causing his long hair to shine in the early evening light. This lighting softens his features, making him look angelic and pretty as his pale skin glows. You find yourself content watching him as he speaks.  

“It’s one of those fancy upscale restaurants. The tips are usually pretty good, but sometimes you gotta endure some light harassment to get them,” Eddie explains, and when he sees the apprehensive look on your face, he jumps to reassure you: “Sometimes we get to take home leftovers though.”

“By ‘get to take’, he means steal,” Steve corrects and you look to Robin for confirmation.

She just shrugs. “They’d go to waste anyway.” 

“I guess I’ll just have to invest in some armour, then,” You say, implying that physical armour could somehow protect you from rude customers. Eddie smiles at that, a dimple carving into his cheek. Briefly, you note how charming his smile is, but before you can stare too long, Robin grabs your attention by lightly elbowing you. 

“Don’t worry, snooty rich people can’t be as bad as Harrington's snotty children,” She says. 

“Oh! You have kids?” You wonder, turning to Steve as he strides along casually a few steps behind you, hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. 

“No, not yet. I work at one of the preschools in the area,” Steve supplies. 

“Oh, nice. You like working with kids?” You wonder. 

His answer is apparent on his face which lights up instantly at the question. “Love it. The kids are really great, and so much more capable than people give them credit for! People are quick to dismiss kids, especially four and five year olds, but they understand more than you think.” Steve rambles, his passion clear. 

“Hey, is this the garage?” Robin asks, bringing your attention back to the task at hand. 

It is. The place you left your car a mere two hours ago, nervous and unsure of what came next. But now you have a new place, something akin to a job offer, and three kind strangers and one old friend by your side. 

Once you reach your car–which is parked all the way on the top floor–you unlock the back seat doors. 

“Okay, so, let’s try to grab all the stuff from the front and maybe a few things from the back?” You suggest, then move to unlock the trunk of your car where the boys stand. 

“Jesus. How did you pack all this shit in here?” Eddie asks, marvelling at the trunk of your car which is stuffed full of most of your belongings. 

“Are we about to find your kitchen sink packed away in here, or what?” Steve adds. 

“Uh, I don’t know, really,” You say, answering Eddie’s question. “I packed it all up so quickly I didn’t really notice how much stuff it actually was, but it’s like my entire apartment is stuffed into this trunk.” You say, and it kind of is. You’re surprised your trunk could even shut with how crowded it is. 

Robin and Nancy grab the remaining bags from the back seat, while you and the guys grab a couple boxes from the trunk. Then you lock up and start back to your new apartment. 

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

Your first thought when you gain consciousness in your bed is a thought that no one would ever want to have—especially not before eight in the morning. Someone has broken into my apartment. 

Your eyes shoot open, staring up at the ceiling–your new ceiling! In your new apartment! That you’ve lived in now for a solid 48 hours. But your time here may be cut short if the intruder has plans that involve you and a knife.

You know for a fact that it is not Robin because you share a wall with her and can hear her shuffling around her room getting ready for the day, and the person out in your living room right now definitely opened your front door and is now shuffling around out there.

Thud. 

What the fuck was that?

Most people in your situation might freeze in fear and simply lie in wait for the intruder to come to them, accepting their fate. Others might run and hide. But you, on this random Tuesday in November at 7:43AM were apparently a force to be reckoned with. The Old You might have chosen one of the two above options, but New York You–the new, and hopefully improved, you–has a job interview today and are not going to let some intruder stop you from making it. 

You are not about to have your fresh start end so soon. So, you carefully pull the covers off of your body and as quietly as possible get out of bed.

Inching slowly towards the door, you decide you first need a weapon to defend yourself. There’s no use going out there and meeting the intruder if you can’t protect yourself against them. However, since you’re not in the kitchen, you don’t have access to a knife or any other kitchen utensil that could be wielded as a weapon. And since many of your belongings are still packed away in bags and boxes scattered around the room, you don’t exactly have many options. 

Quickly, you grab the first object you see that could potentially be used to incapacitate the intruder. Then, you very slowly reach for the handle of your door. 

Twisting the handle as gently as you can manage so as not to draw attention to yourself, you begin to open the door, revealing an inch of the kitchen, then another couple inches which reveals a sliver of the living room. Heart racing wildly in your chest, you decide it’s now or never. 

Bursting from your room while brandishing your weapon of choice, you let out what some may describe as a battle cry, startling the intruder in the living room. Startling them so much that they bang their head on the coffee table when they try to get up from where they’re laying on their stomach on the floor between the couch and table. 

You don’t have a great view of the intruder from where you stand right outside your door, so you slowly step toward them where they lie. 

The intruder groans in pain, forehead falling to rest on the rug below them as they bring a hand to the back of their head. A head with long, messy curls that you vaguely recognize. 

Oh. Oh, God. 

“Eddie?” You question meekly, lowering your weapon as waves of guilt crash over you. 

“Uh-huh,” He replies weakly, voice muffled by the rug he’s practically eating. 

“Oh, God,” You moan before placing your weapon on the table and rushing to his side. He lifts his head then, and you help him up onto the couch. He groans again as he sits back into the plush cushions and all you can do is apologize. 

Taking a seat on the coffee table, you grimace at his grimace. “I am so sorry, I thought you were an intruder,” You explain, squeezing your fingers in your hand. Your heart still races in your chest. 

“It’s-It’s fine, don’t worry about it. Kinda did it to myself,” Eddie jokes, still rubbing the back of his head. You nod once, biting your lip, still feeling guilty because, yeah, he technically did do it himself, but he wouldn’t have if you hadn’t stormed out of your room like a crazy person and screamed bloody murder.

As your heart slows to its normal pace, you begin to wonder what he was doing here in the first place—laying on the living room rug for that matter.

“Um, I don’t mean to be rude, but what exactly were you doing on the floor?” You ask, finally taking in his dress now that the situation has deescalated some. He wears red and black plaid pyjama bottoms and a white tank top so see-through that you catch a glimpse of dark ink beneath the material. The sight steals your breath for a moment. 

“I was, uh, looking for my rings. Thought they might have fallen under the table,” Eddie supplies, drawing your eyes back up to his face. His eyes are warm and soft. God, you don’t think you’ve ever seen eyes so large and round. He looks like a baby deer or something. A cute, injured baby deer. 

“Oh. Did Robin let you in?” You ask, because it doesn’t matter that he looks like a baby deer, what matters is that it is very possible that he simply let himself into your apartment and you’re not sure you’re comfortable with that just yet. I mean, you’ve only just met him and the others two days ago, and have only seen them one other time since then when they had come by to help clear out your new room. 

Eddie looks like the guilty one now as he replies, “Uh, no…?”

“Sorry,” He apologizes quickly. “Let me just…try this again.” 

You’re not sure exactly what he means until he stands and begins walking backwards in the direction of the front door, all the while making strange noises with his mouth that somewhat resemble the sound of rewinding a tape. He’s literally starting over, resetting, going back in time to try this again because he saw you weren’t comfortable with his uninvited presence in your apartment.

All you can do is sit and simply stare at the strange, yet comical display as Eddie awkwardly reaches behind him, opens the door, reverses out into the hallway, and shuts the door with a slam. 

Too stunned to laugh for a moment, you sit in silence for approximately five seconds, thinking that might be the end of it, before a knock sounds at the front door. 

You hesitate, staring at the door strangely. But you’re intrigued now by his strange display, wanting to know how it ends. So you stand and stroll over to the door, opening it to, of course, reveal Eddie, who smiles brightly at you. 

“Good morning,” He greets politely. “You mind if I come in?” 

Stifling a giggle, you nod. “Of course.” And open the door wider, stepping to the side to allow him space to enter. He enters swiftly and you shut the door.

Eddie saunters over to the living room once again, about to resume the search for his rings when he spots your weapon of choice sitting innocently on the coffee table where you left it. He pauses and stares at it for a moment, tilting his head, and you stare at his back as you remain in the kitchen, watching as his dark curls shift and fall to one side, cascading over his shoulders. 

The presence of the weapon is new to him since it obviously was not there when he entered the apartment the first time. He also hadn’t seen it even when he’d gotten up from the floor because you’d sat on the coffee table, and therefore blocked his view of the object. 

Now, Eddie wanders over to the coffee table, gingerly picking the weapon up like it’s some sort of precious antique, then spins around smoothly to face you. Holding it loosely at one end, he lets it dangle just above the hardwood floor.

Eddie raises his eyebrows at you. You stare back at him, unsure of what’s happening. 

“What?” You wonder. 

“What were you gonna use this for?” Eddie asks, tone humorous, and dark eyes sparkling with mirth. 

“To-to defend myself against the intruder,” You answer, suddenly feeling strangely self-conscious about your choice of weapon. 

“With a bathrobe tie?” Eddie exclaims, shaking the flimsy terry cloth material around so the long fabric wiggles in the air.  

“Y-yes!” You defend weakly.

“What were you gonna do? Spa-day me to death?” 

“No! I-I thought it could be used to, like—choke someone?” You say, cringing as the words come out of your mouth. 

Eddie barks a laugh. But you can tell he's not laughing at you. He simply finds the situation and your choice amusing. In the little time you’ve spent around Eddie, you don’t get the impression that he’s mean-spirited or judgmental. The exact opposite actually–to you, he’s only been accepting and kind. 

“It’s creative, I’ll give you that. But not very practical,” Eddie critiques.

“My robe was hanging on my door, okay? It’s not like I had a knife in there or something,” You attempt to defend, playing along. 

“Still!” He laughs incredulously. 

“Let me get this straight: first, you break into my apartment, and then I very kindly invite you back in, and you insult my choice of weapon?” 

Eddie seems to mull this over, recalling the events in his mind to confirm that, yes, that is indeed what has happened.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think so…Ya know, you should really talk to Harrington. He’s the king of wielding random objects as weapons. When we first moved here, he thought we were getting broken into all the time, and this one time he grabbed our floor lamp and-” 

Before he can finish his story though, Robin comes out from her bedroom, dressed in some jeans and a striped long-sleeve. She makes it a few steps before she notices Eddie and you standing almost ten feet apart in the living room together, both of you still dressed in your pyjamas, and one of you grasping a purple bathrobe tie. Robin stares for a moment like she’s suspicious of something, shifting her eyes from you to Eddie and back again. They land on Eddie when she slowly asks, “What’s going on?” 

“I was looking for my rings. You seen ‘em?” He explains, effectively diverting her attention from the strangeness of the situation. 

“Yeah,” She nods, walking towards the kitchen again. “In the dish by the door.” 

“Cool. Thanks,” Eddie says, walking towards you now. Before he walks past you to retrieve his rings though, he takes hold of the other end of the bathrobe tie, pulling it taught, and presenting it to you with a slight bow. “Your sword, m’lady.” 

Grabbing the tie from him, you thank him, and he continues toward the dish by the door. Eddie’s theatrical and kind of strange, but instead of weirding you out, you find that those traits endear you to him. You’re sick of boring people and to finally be around someone who is so unapologetically themselves is refreshing. Especially someone as interesting as Eddie. 

Turning around to the kitchen where Eddie is carefully rooting through the dish for his rings and Robin is grabbing a juice from the fridge, you realize something strange about what just happened. Though surprisingly, none of it has to do with Eddie. 

“Um-if you were in your room getting ready, how did you not hear my scream?” You ask, because you doubt that she just didn’t hear it. You were pretty loud. 

After taking a sip from the small plastic bottle, Robin explains, “Huh. I guess I’ve learned to sort of tune out the noise. Living across the hall from two idiots who barge into my apartment without warning has kind of become my new normal. Loud, sudden noises aren’t really surprising anymore.”

“It’s worrying how desensitized you are,” You reply, mostly joking. 

Robin takes another sip of her juice and shrugs. “Don’t worry, you’ll get there someday.” 

“Ya know, I really hope I don’t.” 

Robins snorts, approaching the counter where Eddie is still picking his rings from the mess of keys and other small trinkets in the dish, and crouches down to retrieve her tote bag from the shelf below the counter. You ball up and toss your robe tie in the general direction of your room before Robin pops back up and turns to grab her juice from the table behind her. 

“Okay, so I gotta go run some errands, but I should be back just after your interview,” She informs and you nod. Eddie goes to leave as well, opening the front door as Robin tells you, “Good luck, you’ll be great!” Then heads for the door as well. 

Gratitude swells in your chest. Robin has been more than kind to you these past two days. Before Saturday, it had been years since you last spoke.

You and Robin were best friends at the summer camp you attended as children and remained close as you entered your teen years and later became camp counsellors at the same camp. You were the first person she ever came out to and it often felt like you shared a brain; for many years she was your sister. 

Despite your living hours and hours away, you and Robin maintained your friendship during the non-summer months; talking on the phone often and mailing letters back and forth. 

Eventually, though, your individual lives got busy and neither of you had the time to maintain the long-distance friendship or attend summer camp as counsellors anymore. Phone calls decreased and letters stopped being written and mailed, until eventually, your friendship fizzled out. There was no major falling out of any sort; the end of your friendship was simply the result of poor management on both ends. 

You often thought about calling her up to see how she was, but it wasn’t until last week that you made the impulsive decision to contact her again. And you’re glad you did. She’s given you a new home and she even helped you set up your job interview at Hannigan’s. You’re grateful that she’s given you the opportunity to start fresh in this new city with new, interesting people, but much of your gratitude comes from the chance you now both have to breathe life back into your cherished friendship.

“Hey,” You call, causing Robin to pause and turn to you before she exits the apartment, brows expectantly raised. “I know I’ve already said it so many times, but I just want to say thank you one more time for everything you’ve done for me these past two days. And I know it’s been a long time since we’ve been friends…but you’re a really good friend.” 

Robin smiles softly at you. “You’re a really good friend too. You always have been.” 

It’s then you rush to her at the door where you embrace her in the biggest hug and hope the action translates the magnitude of your thankfulness and love for her. 

“I’ll see you later,” She says after you part, walking out into the hallway. 

You sigh.

It has been one hectic morning, and your interview starts at 10:30, so you should probably start getting ready now. But Eddie lingers in the hallway, just outside his front door. 

Before you can even say anything, he preemptively apologizes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, like, eavesdrop, but you have your interview at Hannigan’s today?” 

You’re not mad though. Nothing you said was a secret. And so far, you trust Eddie. He cares about the way people around him are feeling and takes action to remedy situations where people aren’t happy or comfortable. That much is clear from this morning. It’s why you don’t dismiss him and leave to get ready. He’s a good person. 

“Yeah, I do. Why?”

Eddie takes a couple steps forward so he’s standing just inside your apartment once again. 

“Would it help if I gave you some tips? I’ve been working there for a while and I kinda know what they’re looking for, so-”

“That would be great!” You exclaim, because you really need this job if you want to continue living here. 

Eddie just smiles brightly at your reaction as you say, “Just let me get dressed and then I’ll knock on your door when I’m ready?” 

“Sure,” Eddie nods, grabbing the edge of the door on his way out to close it. 

“Oh! And Eddie?” You call out just before the door shuts. 

“Yeah?” He responds, popping his head back in the apartment. 

“I really am so sorry about this morning.” 

“It’s alright. I’m sorry for breaking in…Although you seemed pretty unprepared, so, yaknow, this was probably a good learning experience for you,” He teases, that same sparkle in his eyes that had appeared when he was questioning your weapon returning. 

You bite your lip over a smile as Eddie winks at you and disappears behind the door, the heavy wood slamming softly shut. 

Getting ready in record time, you end up knocking on Eddie’s door across the hall approximately one hour later, leaving more than enough time for Eddie to give you interview tips and for you to walk over to Hannigan’s to arrive early. 

As you stand in the hall awaiting his answer, you feel oddly giddy, a swarm of nervous butterflies fluttering rapidly in your belly. Briefly, you think your butterflies can be explained on account of Eddie making you nervous. But you bat that thought away as you hear footsteps approaching and remind yourself that it’s more likely that your upcoming job interview has caused the butterflies. 

When Eddie answers his door, you find he’s also gotten dressed in the hour since you’ve seen each other. He wears a simple black t-shirt with a band name and logo you don’t recognize on the front with a long-sleeve underneath, and some light-wash jeans. His hair is noticeably more tame, his curls flowing neatly over his shoulders. Eddie also wears the silver rings he was searching for this morning; three on one hand, and one on the other. The fluttering in your belly intensifies for a moment, but again, you bat them away. 

“You wanna come in or are we gonna do this out in the hall?” Eddie jokes when you make no move to enter his apartment, unaware of this strange battle you’re having within yourself at his doorstep. 

Shaking yourself free of your thoughts, you mutter a quick apology and take his joke as an invitation to enter. As you do, you realize this is the first time you’ve been inside his apartment. Which isn’t a surprising fact. You’ve only been here for two full days, and haven’t really left your apartment much since then.

His apartment is smaller and you might describe it as drab, but their decor choices are vibrant in their own way. 

The kitchen is immediately to your right as you enter, a table to your left, and as you wander further into the room, a counter separates the entrance slash kitchen area from the living room. In the living room sits two black recliners and a large wood entertainment centre with a television set. On either side of this are two closed doors. 

The far right side of the apartment has two windows and a red sofa sitting beneath it. Beside that is another door, this one open (revealing tiled floor and a closed shower curtain). 

There isn’t much in the way of wall decoration (aside from a lone dart board hanging on the wall and a few posters), but on some of the shelves of the entertainment centre are framed photographs. Some of the photos feature what appears to be two younger versions of Steve and Eddie, presumably taken in high school. In one photo, Eddie has his arm around Steve’s shoulder and they both hold beer cans in their hands. Eddie smiles cheekily for the camera, while Steve puts on a faux grimace at his friends close proximity. 

Other photos feature boys who appear to be much younger than Steve and Eddie (possibly siblings?) and there are also photos that include Robin and Nancy, some recent and others clearly taken years ago. Another includes Steve and Eddie carrying a boy with curly hair–who wears a graduation cap and gown–on their shoulders, all of them smiling widely. You can tell it's candid as they all appear to be laughing and unaware of the camera photographing them. 

“Who’s this?” You ask curiously, pointing at the photo as you turn around, finding that Eddie hasn’t moved from his spot at the door and has likely been watching you inspect his living area this whole time. Suddenly you feel like you’re intruding. “Sorry, I-”

“No worries. You can look. That’s what they’re there for,” He shrugs, finally joining you in the living room. 

At your side now, Eddie inspects the photo you pointed to and a fond smile crosses his face. His side profile is soft, and you spy just a hint of shaven stubble on his cheeks. It distracts you for a moment. 

“Dustin,” Eddie says after a beat. 

“What?” You ask dumbly, now preoccupied with the freckles you’ve spotted that dot his pale skin lightly. 

You’ve never been this close to him before. All you’d have to do to get right into his personal space is take one short step forward. But of course you won’t do that. Why would you? 

Eddie looks from the photograph to you. “In the picture,” He explains, nodding to the framed image. “That’s Dustin. It was taken at his high school graduation, like, two years ago? He’s a good kid…Well, he’s not really a kid anymore, but I guess it still feels like that sometimes.” 

“How do you know him?” You hear yourself say. The kid looks like he’s about five years younger than Eddie and Steve, so naturally you’re curious about how they know him. 

You’re supposed to be here getting pointers for your job interview, but instead, you find that you’re more interested in the details of Eddie’s life. 

“Uh, we were in high school together and I had this club that he was a part of,” Eddie explains, hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“What kind of club?” You wonder, electing to ignore the fact that he somehow attended high school with this kid. 

He seems reluctant to provide you with an answer to your question. Up until now, he’s been a pretty open book; someone who doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him. But now all of the sudden, he’s guarded? 

“I won’t judge, yaknow,” You reassure, because you won’t, but also because his reluctance to reveal what sort of club he ran makes you all the more curious to find out. 

Eddie side eyes you, squinting. He must determine that your remark is genuine because he straightens up from where he’d bent slightly to view the photo and provides you with an answer. 

“Ever heard of DnD? Dungeons and Dragons?” 

You furrow your brows for a moment, vaguely recognizing the name, but not remembering why. 

“Oh!” You exclaim after a beat. “Yes! Was that the one that people were freaking out about years ago cause they thought it caused Satanism?”

Eddie snaps his fingers as he responds, “That’s the one.” 

Then, he glances back at the photograph, and you think you can almost make out memories behind his eyes. Fond ones. You lean forward slightly, trying to catch his eyes again.

“You still play?” 

Your question shakes him out of his momentary reverie, and he looks to you once again. “Not as much as I used to…But Dustin and the other guys and I try to organize a couple meetings throughout the year. It’s hard though because everyone’s kinda spread out now. And busy.”

His tone is wistful as he continues to glance around at the photos sitting on the shelf. Had you just upset him? First, you assist him in banging his head against your coffee table and now you’re potentially causing him some emotional pain too! Good going. 

You’re about to apologize or change the subject, but Eddie speaks before you can. “Anyway! We should probably talk about your interview now. How long do we have?”

Looking around the room to find a clock, you spot one by the door. The little hand points toward the nine and the large hand points toward the six. 

“About a half hour before I should get going,” You respond, turning back to Eddie as he takes a seat on one of the recliners behind you. You sit down as well. 

“Great. So…do you have any questions first?” Eddie asks, unsure where to start. 

“Uh,” You say, trying to remember any questions you had, but you can’t seem to recall any as you roll up the sleeves of your thick sweater, the ink on your wrist and forearms revealed as the fabric is pulled back. 

Immediately, Eddie’s eyes shoot down to the action and for the first time, he catches sight of the ink.

“I didn’t know you had tattoos,” He remarks, like it’s something he should have known. As if it’s been more than 48 hours since you met and it’s ridiculous that he didn’t know. 

“Oh. Yeah,” You say absentmindedly, glancing down at your arms. 

“Tip number one: your tattoos are sick, but at Hannigan’s, they aren’t exactly appreciated, so you should make sure you cover them up.”

“Gotcha,” You say, rolling your sleeves back down the length of your arms.

Suddenly you’re reminded of your first day when you spotted his inked arms. The seven bats decorating his forearm. “Um…Yours are really cool by the way,” You compliment. 

Then, “When did you get your first one?” You ask, veering further off topic. You can’t seem to stop yourself and you don’t know why. 

“Uh…heh,” Eddie huffs a short laugh, almost as if he’d forgotten until this very second when you’d asked him. “I think I was, like, 16, 17? I did a really shitty stick-and-poke on my leg–the initials of my band name: Corroded Coffin.”

Every new thing you learn about Eddie intrigues you. Of course this long-haired, tattoo-having, ring-wearing, Dungeons and Dragons-playing 20-something would also have been in a band. Your surprise is likely evident on your face.

“You’ll have to come to one of our gigs sometime,” Eddie invites casually, as if it’s not the most cool thing to say in the world. Eddie didn’t used to be in a band, Eddie is in a band! 

“You’re still in the band?” 

“Yeah, the other guys live out here too, and we do regular gigs a few times a week…but, um, what about you? When did you get your first tattoo?” 

Still gaping at him, you must pick your jaw up off the ground before you can respond. Cool and humble. How is he real?

“Oh, um, I was 18…I actually got it cause I knew my mom would hate it and it would probably piss her off,” You say, a little embarrassed by that fact. You don’t know why you reveal the information to him in the first place. Maybe because for some odd reason you know he won’t tell anyone. Even still—his story was way cooler. Especially since it preceded the reveal that he’s in a band. But maybe that’s also part of the reason you share it. You want him to think you’re just as interesting as he is—though you’re not sure who would be impressed by the information you just shared. 

“Did it work?” Eddie asks. To your surprise, he seems invested in your answer, leaning over the edge of the recliner's armrest. As if what you’ve said was equally as interesting as his response. 

“Did what work?” 

“Was she pissed?” 

“Oh!” You say, like a total ditz. “Um, yeah. Big time. She hates tattoos.” 

“Is that why you have all of them?”

“No, I only got the first one to make her mad. And then when I realized I really loved it, I just kept getting them,” You respond, pushing your sleeve back slightly to brush the one on your wrist with your thumb. 

When you look back up at him he’s smiling softly at you, but he quickly averts his gaze and his eyes find the clock on the wall. “Shit,” He says, a little panicked. “We only have 20 minutes.”

Whipping your head around to glance at the clock, the hands confirm that it’s 20 to 10 and you’ve barely discussed what you came here to discuss. 

“I guess we’ll just have to lightning round this shit,” Eddie says, determination set in his tone. 

And you do lightning round this shit. In just over 20 minutes, Eddie tells you as much as he can about the owner of the restaurant—Cordelia—who is going to be interviewing you. He tells you how to sit, what to say, how to say it, anything and everything he can think of to help you secure a job at this place. 

As you two stand and Eddie walks you to the door, he shoots you a few final pointers.

 “Obviously it helps that you have experience working at an upscale restaurant, so, um, she’ll probably ask you about that too,” Eddie says, and you nod.

When you reach the door, you turn to him. 

“Thank you so much for your help,” You say sincerely. “You really didn’t have to do this, so it means a lot that you did.” 

“Of course I did,” Eddie replies, like it's just that simple. Your brows furrow. “You’re a member of this party now, and as a fellow party member, it’s my duty to help other party members out when they’re in need.”

“A ‘party member’?” 

You’re sure you catch the faintest blush across his cheeks from your question.

“Sorry, uh, I guess it just means you’re one of us now…A friend,” Eddie explains. 

“A friend,” You repeat. And you find the word involuntarily pulls your lips into a soft smile. 

“Anyway, you should probably get going,” Eddie reminds with another glance at the clock. 

“Yeah, okay,” You agree, turning to open the door.  “Oh, um, where did you say the restaurant was again?” You ask when you’re out in the hallway. 

“It’s um…You know what? Why don’t I just walk you there?” Eddie offers. 

“Really? You don’t mind?” 

“Not at all,” Eddie says with a charming smile. 

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

Cordelia was an intense woman. Eddie had warned you of this, though you had wildly underestimated the level of intensity the woman embodied. She was tall, and wore her long, black hair up in a sleek ponytail, not a flyaway in sight. Her office was large and so neat that you thought it looked like some sort of staged set for a decor magazine. 

During your interview, you learned exactly one thing about Cordelia: Cordelia does not fuck around. She did not have time for exchanging pleasantries, and a simple handshake and a “take a seat” was the only introduction she provided you with before she began the interview, which mostly felt more like a police interrogation than a job interview. 

By the end, you thought you felt good about how it went, but Cordelia was hard to read. You never once saw her smile or provide you with any kind of verbal or non-verbal communication that would indicate that she was impressed with your resume or any of your answers to her questions.

It was likely one of the most strange job interviews you had ever had. It didn’t necessarily leave you full of hope as you got up from the leather upholstered chair and Cordelia informed you that you would receive a call if she decided to hire you. 

Walking through the restaurant–which was void of patrons, but had some staff preparing and setting up for opening in a few hours–, you finally come to the large glass entrance doors, and push one open. The late November chill blasts you in the face immediately and the switch from the warmth of the restaurant to this shiver-worthy weather is jarring. Had it somehow dropped five degrees from when you’d walked here? 

Turning right and beginning your trek back home, you hear a voice call out your name from behind you. 

You ignore it at first, thinking that the person can’t be calling out to you since you know a grand total of four people so far (five if you count Cordelia—but you don’t) and surely there are other people in this massively diverse city that also have your name. 

“Hey!” The voice calls again once you’ve made it no more than fifteen feet from the restaurant. 

Finally, you stop walking and spin around to locate the source, and what you find surprises you.

Eddie is currently jogging toward you. 

He’d waited this whole time? Out in the freezing cold? With that effortlessly cool leather jacket that is an extremely pathetic excuse for a winter coat and is definitely doing nothing to keep the warmth in?

“Hey,” He says again once he reaches you. 

“Hey,” You say. “You didn’t have to wait for me, Eddie.” Because he really didn’t and you don’t want to be a burden or make him think you’re taking advantage of his kindness. 

“Seeing as you’re going in the wrong direction, it’s probably a good thing I did,” Eddie tells you, nodding back in the other direction with a gentle, c’mon. You feel your face warm even as the wind whips you. 

“Thanks,” You say sheepishly, walking in step with Eddie—in the correct direction now.

“So, how’d it go? Did you crush it?” He asks hopefully, head turned to look at you, and his shoulders pushed up by his red-tipped ears as though he’s trying to conserve heat. 

The furrow in your brow and your soft stuttering must be enough for Eddie to understand exactly how it went, as he speaks before you can provide him with your best approximation of how the interview might have gone. 

“Yeah, that’s normal with Cordelia. That woman is impossible to read,” He says, shaking his head as you both stop at a crosswalk. 

“Right? Oh my God. I’m glad it wasn’t just me,” You say, relieved because that means that the interview wasn’t a total disaster. Is that what that means?

“Yeah, we call her Medusa,” Eddie remarks with a sidelong glance at you. 

You snort unattractively at the nickname and just as quickly bring your hand to your face, covering your mouth as if the action could force the sound back in. 

“Fitting,” You say, coughing as a cover for the noise when Eddie looks at you, brows raised, supposedly amused by your amusement. 

Eddie smirks to himself, barely noticeable, before asking, “Did she say she’d call?” As you look both ways before crossing the street with many other bundled-up New Yorkers. 

“Uh, yeah, why?” 

“That’s a good sign,” He answers, his shoulders shaking with a sudden shiver. That simple statement allows just a little drop of hope to blossom in your chest. 

“Are you cold?” You ask because he can’t not be freezing. He’s not exactly convincing you otherwise. 

“Yeah. I can’t feel my fingers,” Eddie states plainly.

“Wanna jog the rest of the way?” You offer, mostly joking. 

“Please,” He replies anyway.

Though you don’t exactly jog the last few blocks home, you do pick up the pace, and when you get back you make him some tea to warm him up (and hopefully bring back feeling in his fingers). 

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

Since your interview every time the phone rings you basically leap over any obstacles in your way to get to the phone, hoping it will be Cordelia calling about your waitressing position as Hannigan’s. But each time the phone rings and it’s a telemarketer, or the bank, or anyone other than Medusa herself, you lose just a little more of that small inkling of hope you allowed yourself to have. 

At present, you sit on the couch in the living room beside Robin while you eat noodles; the rest of the Chinese spread sitting on the coffee table in front of you or in the laps of Steve, Eddie, and Robin. 

On the plush chair to your left sits Steve who is currently chowing down on some dumplings while staring with rapt attention at the television, and Eddie–who announced his newfound aversion to normative seating options upon his arrival in your home–sits on the floor by your socked feet. 

Though the TV is on, you aren’t really paying attention. It’s been just over a week now since you moved in and one week to the day since your interview, and by now you’ve lost all hope. 

Privately, you decided that you would call time of death on this potential job by the end of today and start searching for a new one tomorrow. You know there’s plenty of other jobs out there, but the prospect of working with Robin and Eddie had excited you and made you a whole lot less anxious about working in this new city.  

Ring! Ring! Ring! 

Hope surges inside of you despite your intentions of abandoning it. Suddenly, you feel three sets of eyes on you. Even Steve—who had been incredibly invested in the lifeguards running in slow motion on the television screen—looks at you now. 

They all knew you’d been waiting for the call. They also knew that you hadn’t received one. Not the one, at least. You wish you had time to get up and answer the phone that sits on the side table in your bedroom because you’d really rather not admit to them that it’s simply another telemarketer. 

Since you don’t have the time to reach the phone in your bedroom though, you pull in a deep breath, reach over the sofa arm, and pick up the landline that sits on the glass end table. 

“Hello?” 

“Hello, this is Cordelia Hannigan from Hannigan’s-”

And after that you think you black out. Because you don’t hear anything after that. Because this is the happiest you’ve ever been about getting a call about a job. Which sounds ridiculous since it’s just a waitressing job. But it represents so much more. It’s the seal that cements your place in this city with these people. It represents your new beginning. 

With that realization you decide that you should probably listen to your new beginning. Trying your best to tune into Cordelia’s words, you hear her throwing words and phrases around like strict dress code and uniform and training and first shift. When she’s done, you tell her thank you, and return the phone to the base, hanging it up with a resolute click. 

Three sets of eyes remain on you and your frozen body. When you don’t say anything after one second of hanging up, they get restless. 

“So?” Steve prompts, leaning forward in his chair in anticipation. 

“Was it Medusa?” Robin asks from your side. 

You nod slowly, not believing it yourself. “Uh-huh…I got the job.” 

“You got the job!” They all shout in freaky unison. You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. You think you hear Steve mutter déjà-vu to himself as Robin and Eddie continue their cheering and congratulating. 

“I-I start training this week and my first shift next week,” You inform. 

And then Eddie’s shouting, “Speech, speech, speech!” with his hands cupped over his mouth as if you’re much further away from him. 

“Alright, alright!” You acquiesce as the others join his chant, putting your noodles down on the coffee table and getting up to stand in front of the television.

“Um, I guess I just want to thank all of you,” You begin, feeling suddenly sincere, but still maintaining a note of jest. “I couldn’t have done it without all of you. Steve, you helped me transport and unpack most of my shit. And I have a lot of shit.”

He nods in agreement. “And I couldn’t have focused on prepping for the interview if I was worried about my stuff sitting in my car in that garage, so thank you…Robin, you helped me set up the interview with Cordelia-”

“Medusa,” Robin and Eddie correct simultaneously. 

“Medusa,” You correct yourself. “And you also recommended me for the position. So, thank you…And last, but certainly not least, Eddie,” You say, smiling softly when you catch his eye. He smiles right back at you, that charming dimple appearing on his face as he does. 

“Without your pointers I probably would not have made it through the interview without being turned to stone.”–Eddie snorts–“And I also probably would have gotten completely lost and wandered into the East River if you hadn’t been there when I left. So, thank you…” You tell him sincerely, the partially joking tone you had maintained throughout your cheesy speech erased completely now since your gaze had fallen on him. 

“Good night, New York!” You finish, trying to play up the cheesiness now to divert from the seriousness that had snuck into your tone, and you bow dramatically as Robin and Eddie clap and woop. But Steve, you notice, is glancing oddly as Eddie.

You laugh as you take your seat, plucking your cardboard box of noodles off the table as you go. 

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

“Robin!” You hear Steve call from out in the living room, his voice muffled slightly through your closed bedroom door. “The door!” 

Robin’s door creaks open before you hear her exit her bedroom. 

“You couldn’t have gotten it?” She complains as she walks through the apartment to answer the door. 

“No. Baywatch is on,” Steve replies like his answer needs no further explanation. You snicker to yourself as you button up your pressed, white uniform shirt. You swear you can hear Robin’s eyes rolling. 

Baywatch was Steve’s favourite TV show; he never missed an episode—except for last week when a meeting at his school ran longer than expected and he’d called Robin to get her to tape it for him. He decided that now–while you were both getting ready to leave for work–was the perfect time to come over and watch it (instead of taking the tape back to his place since your TV is better anyway). 

The apartment's front door–which remains perpetually unlocked when you and Robin are home–opens and you listen closely to hear who it might be while you work on tucking your shirt into your formal black dress pants. 

“Oh. Hey, Eddie,” You hear Robin greet, though it sounds more like a question with the confusion lacing her tone. 

“Hey,” Eddie says, his footsteps tapping against the faux hardwood as Robin shuts the door with a loud slam. 

With a quick glance over at your alarm clock, you find that it’s almost time to leave. The realization sends nervous butterflies to flight in your belly. Tonight is your very first shift at Hannigan’s. 

Last week you had your training, which was nerve-wracking, but tonight was the real thing. Tonight you would be earning your first dollar, receiving your first tip, suggesting wine pairings, and probably dealing with rude customers. And all of it makes you nervous. 

It’s scary for so many reasons, for more reasons than just the fact that new jobs (no matter what they are) are always scary. It’s scary because it’s the next step in the process of making a new–hopefully better–life for yourself here. For that reason, you want it to go well. But you aren’t sure what ‘well’ really means in this situation. 

“Y/N!” Robin calls, shaking you from your thoughts. “Cab’s here!” 

Blowing out a quick breath, and trying your best to shake out your nerves, you grab your jacket and bag and exit your bedroom, still feeling those butterflies, but determined not to let them shake you. At least not too much. 

Leaning against the now open apartment door is Eddie who’s dressed in the same black dress pants and white button-up as you and Robin. He shoots you an easy smile as you emerge from your room, and you smile back. 

His long hair, which he usually lets flow over his shoulders in soft waves, is now tied in a low bun. He’s missing his usual chunky silver rings and all his tattoos are hidden beneath his sleeves and a highly buttoned collar. 

Though it’s strange to see him stripped of his unique accessories, you find yourself scrolling your eyes over his body. With his hair away from his face, his features are highlighted, revealing the strong line of his jaw and making his eyes appear somehow larger. 

As your eyes move down his body, you note the way his arms look in the button up, how his thighs fill out the dress pants. You find yourself missing his rings though. Something twists in your belly, though this time it’s not nerves. 

“Ready?” Robin’s voice asks, once again shaking you from your thoughts. She must notice that you weren’t entirely there, that you were lost in your thoughts because she stops shoving things into her bag to ask: “You okay?” 

Ripping your gaze away from Eddie and turning to Robin, you reply, “Yeah!” in a voice much higher than your own. You cough quickly as a cover and repeat your words, sounding much less caught out the second time. 

“Okay,” Robin drawls suspiciously. “Well, we should really get down to the cab now cause we probably have about 60 seconds before they decide to leave and force us to brave the windchill ourselves,” She informs, pulling her jacket on and shoving her tote bag over her shoulder. “Alright, you’ll lock up and we’ll see you at the coffee house afterwards?” Robin asks Steve. 

“Yeah, sure,” He replies absentmindedly from where he’s glued to the sofa. 

“Shit, I should probably get my keys then,” You mutter. If they’re going to the coffee house after your shift, then you can’t rely on Robin unlocking the door for you if you’re not together when you get home. 

Before you can walk back to your room to retrieve your keys though, Steve pipes up. You’re pretty sure it’s the first time he’s taken his eyes off the television since he got here. 

“Wait, you’re not coming?” He asks, his body twisted to look at you with his arm draped over the back of the couch. 

“Oh,” You reply dumbly because ‘we’ apparently included you. You were a part of the ‘we’ Robin meant. ‘We’, as in Robin, Eddie, Steve, and you.

It’s not like they haven’t been welcoming since you got here, but it’s only been a few weeks and they’ve been friends and neighbours for years; you thought it might take them longer to accept you into the group since they’re so solid. A part of you felt like they might still see you as an outsider; someone who doesn’t get invited to their after-work coffee shop hangouts just yet. But they’d expected you to come. Sometime within the last couple weeks you became a part of their definition of ‘we’.

“No, I’ll come,” You confirm with a nod in an attempt to appear casual about the invite. 

“Awesome,” Steve says, turning back to the television. 

“Guys!” Robin shouts and you realize then that she’s no longer in the apartment. Eddie pokes his head out into the hall as Robin says, “Come on, the cab is waiting!” 

“Yep, coming,” Eddie says and you follow right behind him, feeling so many things all at once. Nervous about your shift, excited about being invited to the coffee house, and another thing for Eddie that you can’t quite name just yet. 

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

The fast-paced environment of Hannigan’s is overwhelming, and while normally it might frazzle you, you find that you don’t mind it nearly as much as you thought you might. It’s definitely a different environment than your last job–a desk job that only promoted boredom within you–, but the new challenge of this place is stimulating.

As the night goes on, the din of the restaurant only intensifies; nearly every table and booth is filled with patrons talking and enjoying their 5-star meals, the sounds of cutlery clashing against fine china, hosts and hostesses greeting people at the entrance and making reservations for customers over the phone for months from now, the sizzling, clinking sounds roaring from the kitchen when the swinging traffic doors open, then shushing when the doors close again. 

With just over an hour left of your shift and the clearing of what feels like the thousandth table you’ve waited on tonight, you watch as yet another diner is seated in your section. He’s a tall man, his dark hair styled precisely atop his head, and has a short goatee beard, trimmed to perfection. It reminds you of Kurt Cobain’s facial hair, though nothing else about him resembles the rock icon. The man looks rich–though you suppose most people who dine here are. From what you can tell with the distance between you, he might be about ten years your senior.

Not wanting to keep him waiting, you begin to stride over to his table, though you are just as soon intercepted, a large hand gently engulfing your wrist. You turn and find that the hand is attached to Eddie, his deep brown eyes staring back at you, and suddenly the contact brings heat to your face and a zip of something unnamable down your arm. Both of you retract your hands swiftly before Eddie explains his interception: “Why don’t you let me take this table, yeah?”

Confusion muddles your features for a moment. Why on earth would Eddie want to take on another table? It’s busy enough in here as it is. Plus, taking a table that is not in your section is strictly against the rules and as it’s your very first shift here, you’re not quite comfortable enough just yet to bend any rules. Especially not when they were fiercely outlined to you by Cordelia, who you were sure that if she possessed the powers of Medusa like Eddie and Robin say, she would surely turn you to stone if she caught you breaking any of them. 

Since you’re not willing to risk getting yourself or Eddie into any sort of trouble, you tell him: “You have your own section to worry about, Eddie. Don’t worry about mine, I got this.” With an easy smile in hopes of further reassuring him, though you’re not sure of what. 

You barely make it a few steps in the direction of your table before he’s stopping you again, this time with a gentle hand at your elbow. 

“It’s just that…I’ve had that guy in my section before and he’s…difficult,” Eddie explains, struggling to come up with a word to describe him and seemingly being displeased with the one he chose as his brows furrowed together. 

Oh. 

His explanation causes heat to rise to your face, warming your entire chest with a strange fuzzy feeling. Was Eddie trying to protect you? If he was, that was very sweet of him, but still, you can’t allow him to take this table for you–even though you feel like you could melt to mush in his grasp right now. 

“I’ve dealt with difficult people all evening,” You say. “I’ve got this.” 

Before he can protest anymore or continue to convince you not to take the table, you’re walking away from him, your soft skin slipping from his gentle grip. 

Eddie watches you walk away, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth as you greet Paul and hand him the menu. The second Eddie sees that trademark salacious smirk creep across Paul’s face, Eddie’s jaw clenches involuntarily, but it’s not like he can do anything about it now.

Had he had any right to try to do anything about it before? To try to take your table? He hasn’t known you very long, so who is he to step in and attempt to protect you from that creep? He shouldn’t even feel this protective of you, this jealous. What the fuck is going on with him lately? 

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

Collapsing onto the big fluffy couch at The Ugly Mug, you feel yourself instantly sink into the soft cushions. Have they always felt like literal clouds molding perfectly to your body or does it just seem that way after being on your feet for hours? 

Now that your first shift is over you can appreciate how truly tiring it was. Adrenaline must have helped you stay on your feet all night, helped you acclimate to the job, but now that you’re seated in the calm, quiet atmosphere of the coffee shop, all that energy has left you entirely. 

“Ugh, is it always this exhausting?” You sigh, slumped between Robin and Eddie. Steve sits on a plush chair next to the couch. 

“I-” Robin begins, but Eddie interrupts before she can finish. 

“Don’t lie to her, Rob,” Eddie says, sensing that Robin was likely about to lie in order to comfort you. 

“Fine,” She replies, sighing, exhaustion weighing heavy in her bones as well. “It is. It’s always this exhausting…” 

“But,” Robin drawls teasingly, pushing herself up so she’s no longer slumped down on the couch. “It’s not every shift you get hit on,” She says, wiggling her brows suggestively at you. 

“What? Who got hit on?” Steve pipes up curiously, placing his pastry down on the round table beside him. 

“Y/N,” Robin confirms teasingly, and you cover your face with your hands. 

Eddie huffs from beside you as Steve says, “What? No way! By who?” 

“One of the rich guys. I think he’s a new regular–Paul,” Robin answers, a childish tone to her voice when she says his name that makes you think she might start singing Sitting In A Tree with yours and Paul’s names any second now. 

Steve’s eyes widen comically and Eddie grumbles something incoherent from your side, but you don’t get the chance to ask him what he said before Steve is hurriedly asking: “So? What happened?”

“Well, he asked me out,” You reply, a little embarrassed from their excitement as you adjust so your legs are crossed under you. Paul was charming from the moment you handed him his menu, all smiles and classic handsomeness. 

“And you said?” 

“I said yes,” You reply quietly at the same time as Robin exclaims, She said yes! She’d cackled when you’d told her about it at your lockers after your shift ended, joking that you could quit Hannigan’s and Paul could become your sugar daddy instead. 

Normally, you might have declined such an offer from someone you’d just met–especially if that someone was 10 years older than you–, but the whole point of this move was change. Change required doing things you might not normally do, it required some spontaneity and courage. Both of which were not necessarily your strong suits, but you were trying. The first step was simply saying yes to things. 

Steve smiles, impressed. “Alright, Y/L/N!” 

And then, realization dawns over his features and he quickly turns his attention to Robin. 

“Speaking of dates…” Steve begins, using the same salacious tone Robin had used earlier. “Robin, how are things going with Alicia?” 

Looking at Robin, her eyes widen as she replies, “Oh my God, I totally spaced and forgot to tell you!” 

Leaning in closer to Eddie on your other side, you whisper, “Who’s Alicia?” 

“This girl Robin’s been seeing for a bit,” He answers easily. 

You tune back into the conversation just in time to hear Robin inform, “I asked her to be my girlfriend.” Even if you weren’t looking at her right now you’d be able to hear the smile in her voice. 

“That’s great, what’d she say?” Steve asks, jumping in even as Robin opens her mouth to continue, clearly not finished speaking.

“She said yes!” Robin exclaims, not even pausing to tease him about his over-eagerness to hear the rest of the story or give him a playful roll of her eyes like she usually might. This Alicia woman must mean a lot to Robin if she’s obliged to censor her usual sarcastic quips. 

“Fuck yeah!” Says Steve as he high fives Robin and you chuckle at their odd celebration. 

“Robin, that’s great. I’m so happy for you,” You congratulate, hand on her shoulder, remembering when you were teens and she never thought she’d get to have a girlfriend. Robin smiles sheepishly now. 

What a satisfying end to the day. You’re exhausted, but at the same time exhilarated. It feels like things are finally falling into place, like you’d been putting together a puzzle and some of the pieces had gone missing. But you’ve found some of them, and now you’re sliding them into their places. And they fit. For the first time, you feel like you fit, and that makes you believe that everything is going to be okay–that you’re going to be okay. 

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

“So,” Robin drawls as she places two juices on the kitchen table in front of you, one for her and one for you. “Where’s he taking you?” 

“I don’t know yet, actually. All I know is that it’s ‘somewhere nice’ and he’s going to be picking me up at 7:30-ish,” You reply as you twist the cap off your drink. 

“Mysterious,” Robin comments after taking a sip of her juice.

“Your date’s tonight?” Steve asks as he wanders into the kitchen and sticks his head into the fridge, likely scouring the shelves for a snack. 

“Yeah, why?”

Steve stands from his bent position inside the fridge and turns to you and Robin, a slice of cold pizza in hand. “Mine too! Gonna bring her her favourite flowers, take her to her favourite restaurant, go see the tree at Rockefeller–the whole shebang.” 

Steve takes a giant bite out of his pizza slice, then slides over to the table and steals Robin’s drink. She makes a disgusted face at him in protest and pushes the drink away from her when he places it back on the table after taking a healthy swig.

“That’s really sweet, Steve. I’m sure she’ll have a great time,” You tell him genuinely. 

“Ugh!” Robin groans, drawing your attention away from Steve as her head falls back on her shoulders dramatically. “Stop talking about dates! I haven’t seen Alicia in three days and I have a shift tonight,” She complains, pouting. 

“You’re the one who brought it up,” Steve mutters, taking his slice with him into the living room where he joins Eddie and Nancy–who sit on the armchair and couch, reading and writing, respectively. 

“Whatever,” Robin replies, slumping down in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest. 

“Aren’t you seeing her tomorrow?” You ask though you know the answer because it’s all that she’s talked about since she last saw Alicia. You’re sure you could pick the girl out of a crowd without ever having seen her just from everything Robin has spewed to you about her. It’s nice to see her happy. 

“Yeah,” Robin says, tone solemn. 

“Why do you sound disappointed?” You wonder with a chuckle.

“Because tomorrow is not right now,” Robin explains and you snort at her impatience to see her girlfriend again. 

God, you don’t remember the last time you felt that way about someone; wanting to be around them all the time, missing them the second they left your side. Maybe it was college the last time you’d felt that way? You haven’t really dated since then. That one disastrous blind date your previous co-workers set you up on does not count. You’d actually prefer to block it out of your memory. 

Robin sighs. “Anyway, I should hop in the shower before my shift,” She says as she stands and heads to the bathroom. She’s genuinely bummed that she won’t get to see Alicia until tomorrow 

“Have fun,” You joke, head falling back on your shoulders as you watch her walk into the bathroom upside-down. You think you hear a sarcastic ha-ha from her before the door shuts. 

Also upside-down from your current perspective is Eddie who you see sliding the window to the balcony open before ducking under it and going out onto the balcony.

He’s been off all night. While usually he would be cracking jokes and being his usual over-dramatic, loud self, tonight he was uncharacteristically quiet, keeping to himself. You’ve spent enough time around him by now to tell when something might be up with him. 

Standing and grabbing the large throw blanket tossed over one end of the couch, you wrap it around yourself before going to the window, sliding it open again and carefully ducking under it as you step out into the chilly night. 

The remnants of winter's early sunset remains on the horizon, lining the city in a dark blue hue while the sky above and beyond that is blanketed by blackness and a dull smattering of stars. That’s the one thing you miss about living in a small town; the lack of light pollution allowed for the stars in the sky to burn bright. Here, it’s impossible to make out a constellation from the street. You suppose the city lights are as close to stars as you’ll get out here.

Eddie leans against the brick and concrete balcony wall, his forearms perched on the cold surface, watching the city as plumes of cigarette smoke swirl around his head. He turns to look at you when he hears you approaching, tucking his chin to his shoulder. 

“You smoke?” You ask, pointing at the cigarette held delicately between his index and middle fingers. You’re feeling a little awkward for some reason. Maybe because you’re not used to Eddie being silent. 

Eddie sniffs, says, “Yeah. Trying to quit.” Then snuffs out the half-smoked stick by crushing it against the concrete. He knows the habit might bother you. It bothers the others as well; Nancy has called it a ‘cancer stick’, Steve has often taken to flushing his cigs in protest, and Robin simply informs him that it stinks. He also knows that you have your date with Paul tonight, and as much as he dislikes the guy, he doesn’t want you smelling of smoke for your date. 

“Hm,” You hum, coming up beside him and leaning over the wall, a blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders. You shiver and he has the urge to remove his leather jacket and wrap it around you. 

There’s a lull then, in which Eddie wonders why you might have come out here. From the sounds of your prior conversation with Robin, you need to start getting ready for your date soon. Why come out here just to stand around with him in the cold? 

“Um,” Eddie begins, unsure of how to phrase this so it doesn’t sound like he’s shooing you off. Just because he doesn’t understand why you’re out here with him doesn’t mean he wants you to leave. He enjoys your company, wants to be around you more. As much as possible, actually. “Did-did you need something?” 

You hesitate for a moment, before saying, “No. No, I just wanted to come check on you.” Though it sounds more like a question. Like you’re prompting him gently. 

“Oh. Okay,” Eddie replies, surprised and not sure what else to say to that. You’re so thoughtful and observant it makes his chest hurt. 

Eddie can feel you examining his face closely and he lets you, continuing to stare out at the city below. 

“I can leave if you-” 

“No,” Eddie replies suddenly before you can even finish your sentence, his eyes finding yours as he says it. Your eyes are wide, expectant. “I mean-no. You’re good.” 

“Okay,” You say, settling in beside him.  

The conversation tapers off again and you’re left with the sounds of honking cars, the muffled racket of people talking in the street below, the robust sound of a public bus stopping down at the corner. A harsh wind kisses your cheeks, likely staining Eddie’s pink. 

He feels awkward. He’s never felt awkward around you before. Not even when you almost strangled him that one morning and he smashed his head against the coffee table. Maybe it’s because of everything going on in his head right now. 

An odd tension sizzles between you. He can feel its strength, more fierce than the wind. But it’s elusive, an enigma he can’t quite grasp. He wants not to think about it and tries not to since he can’t do anything about it anyway. 

“How are you adjusting?” 

“Are you okay?” 

You both break the silence at the same time. A smile breaks across your face and Eddie blows a harsh breath out through his nose. 

“Sorry, you go first,” Eddie offers. 

“I just-are you alright?” You rush out after a brief pause, seemingly self-conscious of the question, though Eddie could never imagine why. “I just thought you maybe seemed a bit off in there…And, like, usually when people separate from the pack, it might mean something’s up,” You explain slowly, that almost inquisitive tone appearing in your voice again. 

Eddie side eyes you, your perceptiveness surprising.

You must take the glance to mean that he’s annoyed because you say, wanting to lighten the mood, “...Or they just want to be left the hell alone.”

Eddie snorts, turning his body to face yours now, his right hip pressed into the cold concrete wall with his elbow resting atop it. You mirror his stance, adjusting the fluffy blanket around you as you go. 

“But I find it usually means the first thing….And-and a lot of the time I don’t think that people really want to be left alone, even if they say they do.”

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie teases lightly, wanting to shift the focus away from himself. He can’t tell you what’s wrong.

“Mhm,” You nod, playing along with his teasing by holding your head high as if you have all the wisdom in the world to offer. But then your expression changes. Just slightly, but Eddie sees it. What you say next isn’t teasing, what you say next is from your soul. 

“I think what they really want—more than anything—is to not have to be alone ever again,” You say, and it’s like a shadow passes over your face. He notes the change in your eyes; like you’re living a past feeling. 

“Yeah,” Eddie agrees after a beat, tone the furthest from teasing it’s ever been. Both because he knows the feeling, but also because he doesn’t want you to feel alone in it. Because he can tell you’ve been really lonely before. And he hates that his evasion of your question made you recall that loneliness. 

That look in your eyes disappears, and you seem to shake out of it easily as you look him in the face and ask, “What are you thinking?” 

It’s a pretty innocuous question. But right now, at this moment, it holds more weight. 

“I’m thinking that…you’re right. I guess I’ve just been in my head.” 

He wasn’t planning on revealing that. He doesn’t even know why he said anything. It’s like you pulled it out of him. It’s like he can’t resist. 

“Yeah? About what?” You ask, eyes searching his. 

He can’t tell you. He wishes he could, but he can’t. It would be such a jerk move to tell you before your date. And it’s not like he could have told you earlier either. Not after the promise he’d made. He already feels like he’s said too much. 

“We don’t have to talk about it. I get it,” You say after he doesn’t reply. 

But you don’t sound hurt. Instead, you sound sincere in your acceptance of the fact that he doesn’t want to say anything. It makes him want to tell you even more. Your sincere kindness, your thoughtfulness, it makes him ache. How can he not be honest with you? Especially when you’ve been so honest with him. 

In order to honour his previous promise, Eddie layers the truth in a sheer veil of lies, concealing parts of the truth, while revealing others. 

“There’s-there’s this girl,” Eddie begins, working out how he’s going to weave lies in with the truth. “But one of the guys from my band–Jeff–asked her out recently…And I-” 

“You like her too?” You guess. You’d known from the secret smile that crept onto his face; fond but sad. 

Eddie nods slowly, relieved that he didn’t have to say the words aloud himself. Like saying them would make it more real, would confirm what he already knows. 

“But Jeff asked her out first. So I don’t have a right to…to feel the way I do about it,” Eddie explains, navigating his way around the truth. He’s lying to you almost as much as he’s lying to himself. “And it would be wrong to tell her now. I’d be betraying Jeff’s trust.” It’s not Jeff’s trust he’d be betraying. 

You sigh, stumped. “I’m sorry, that’s hard…tell me about her?” You ask, though your voice sounds strained. 

God, you’re so nice. It’s killing him. He feels so guilty. How can he lie to you about you? He can’t. Not when you’re looking at him like you are. Like every word out of his mouth is the most important thing that has ever been said. 

“Um…Well. She’s-she’s open-minded and accepting, a little weird,” Eddie describes with a chuckle, remembering the morning you greeted him with your bathrobe tie. 

When your eyes connect, he can’t help but soften, impassioned as he looks into them. Wanting so badly to let you know he’s talking about you, he toes the line. 

“She’s genuine. Honest. What you see is what you get with her,” Eddie says. The city noise fades away and your breaths become the wind, your eyes the city lights. 

“She cares about her friends. It feels like she always knows the right thing to say, even if she feels like she doesn’t…And she’s the kindest person I’ve ever met.” 

Something changes in your expression. Your eyes burn, searching his intently, looking back and forth between the left and the right. His eyes can’t lie, he can’t force them to. They reveal everything. They can’t conceal or contain his feelings. 

Eddie yearns to hold your face gently in his hands, to feel your lips against his, to feel your smile as he kisses you. 

Your chest rises and falls with heavy breaths as if sudden emotion overwhelms you, your eyes aflame. You wait in anticipation for his next words as wind whistles around you, ruffling your blanket.  

“Anyway,” Eddie coughs, dispelling the tension, and glances down at his wristwatch. “It’s getting late, you should probably start getting ready for your date.” 

Recognition flashes in your eyes, like you’d forgotten entirely about your upcoming commitment. 

The spell is broken. He hadn’t even realized there’d been a spell until it was broken. 

You take a step back and it’s then Eddie realizes you were so close your toes were nearly touching. Shit. Why had he done that? That was almost worse than telling you everything he’d said was actually about you. 

“Yeah. Right,” You agree, walking back towards the window.

Eddie turns and leans against the balcony wall, looks back over the city. The wind is the wind, and the lights are just lights. 

“Oh, and Eddie?” You call. Eddie swivels his head to look back at you, one foot inside the apartment and one out on the balcony with him, straddling the window sill. “I hope it works out with her.” 

Eddie gives you a good-natured smile. “Yeah. Me too,” He replies as you duck under the window and return to the apartment. You close it shut softly, leaving him with the wind and the lights. 

Eventually, Eddie goes back inside too, locking every intense emotion that had built up inside of him out in the cold. 

As he wanders back into the apartment, he finds your bedroom door is now closed and Nancy’s spot on the couch is vacant. Robin is rushing out of her room in her work uniform while she roots through her bag, mumbling about her keys. And Steve, who’s snacking on some grapes from the fruit bowl on the counter, has Robin’s keys casually swinging from his index finger. Though Robin doesn’t notice until Steve ahem’s, and she snatches them from his hand before reaching the door. 

“Oh!” She says as her hand twists the handle, and spins around on her heel to face Eddie and Steve. “If either one of you is still here before Y/N leaves, tell her to have a good night with Paul. She deserves it.” 

And the door slams shut behind her as Eddie takes his seat on the couch. 

He has every intention of picking his book back up where he left off. Though it remains open in his hands as he stares at your door. He can’t stop staring at your door. Which should be infinitely less captivating than the words between the pages in his hands. And yet it is not. It is far more captivating than any book he has ever or will ever read. The thought strikes him like a bolt of lightning zapping a tree and setting it on fire.

“Hey, man, are you okay?” Steve asks, noticing Eddie’s prolonged staring at your door. 

Pulling his eyes very slowly away from your door, Eddie replies, “Yeah, I…Yeah.” 

When his gaze finds Steve’s, he’s looking at Eddie like he’s trying to do long division in his head. 

“...Okay,” Steve drawls, retrieving his jacket from the counter in the kitchen. “We’re definitely gonna talk about that later. But for now, I gotta pick up Joselyn. Later, man!” He calls as he exits the apartment, leaving just Eddie and your door, alone. 

He’s not necessarily looking forward to whatever conversation Steve wants to have with him later, but he’s hoping this Joselyn woman will keep Steve busy long enough for Eddie to avoid the conversation entirely–at least for the night. 

It’s been 23 minutes and your bedroom door still has not opened. Eddie knows the exact amount of time it remains closed because although he had tried to focus on the words in his book after Steve left, he simply could not stop looking at your door. And wondering when it would open. Hoping it would open. Estimating when it would open by calculating how long it might take you to get ready. For a solid three seconds, Eddie debates knocking on it, before deciding that’s crazy because-

The door opens. 

“How do I-” 

Eddie stares. Suddenly your door becomes the least captivating thing in the room–in the entire universe–and he can’t believe he ever thought it was captivating to begin with. 

Your black dress—which reaches your ankles—is simple, though it hugs your body wonderfully. The straps are thin and the neck is square-shaped. 

Eddie could equate your beauty to a thousand other beautiful things. He could equate it to paintings and sunsets and flowers. He could equate it to the most beautiful poetry and the most profound stories. But the truth is that none of his comparisons would ever be enough. None of them could express how he feels when he looks at you; like his heart stops and speeds up in his chest at the same time. Like he’s never seen anything beautiful in his life until this moment or even knew what the word beauty meant until he saw you. 

“Oh-Everyone left already?” You question when you realize Eddie is alone. You and Eddie are alone. 

“Y-yeah,” Eddie stutters, mouth suddenly dry. 

“Oh…alright.”

Eddie swallows hard, trying his very best not to watch you like he’d watched your door. But that task proves impossible. And now it’s quiet. And it’s been quiet for far too long as you stand there fidgeting with your shawl looking like that with no one to tell you that you look like that. No one except Eddie. 

“Um,” Eddie begins. Great start. He can’t say what he wants to, so instead he explains his presence: “I didn’t wanna leave without letting you know, since everyone else left...But, uh, what-what were you gonna say…before?” God, he was the worst! If he can’t say the word to himself, how is he supposed to repeat it out loud to you? 

“Oh,” You say, looking down at yourself bashfully. “I was just gonna ask how I looked,” You explain, waving your hand in dismissal.

Eddie wants to not be the worst. Eddie wants you to think that he’s not the worst. Eddie wants you to know that you look like that. 

“You look great,” He says, slightly breathless. ‘Great’ is a safe word, it’s a friendly word. It’s not the word he wanted to use. 

You smile softly, averting your eyes from him and to the floor as you say a meek, but sincere, “Thank you.” 

Eddie really shouldn’t say anymore. But he loves the way it feels when you get all shy from his compliments. He loves the way you thank him. Like you know his compliment is true, but to hear him say it means something different, something special.

So he can’t keep it in. But he wills himself to reign in his emotions; to freeze the butterflies in his belly before they take flight. 

“You-” look really pretty. “Your dress is really pretty.” 

“Thank you, Eddie,” You say, swaying nervously on the spot. 

Fuck. Shit. Jesus Christ! There wasn’t a net big enough in the world to contain the swarm of butterflies fluttering in his belly right now. It’s downright embarrassing. 

You seek out his eyes. And Eddie knows. And you part your lips, about to speak. 

“I-”

Knock, knock, knock. 

All too soon, your gaze shifts to the front door. But Eddie’s eyes remain on you. 

“Oh, that’s Paul,” You inform, pulling your shawl more tightly around your body before you begin walking towards the door. You make it about three paces before you realize, “Shoot, I forgot my purse in my room, would you mind getting the door?” 

“Sure,” Eddie says, minding a whole awful lot. But he stands from the couch anyway and makes his way to the door as you head back into your bedroom. 

The door swings open, revealing a sharply dressed Paul leaning against the doorframe. His suit is pressed to perfection, not a wrinkle in sight. It’s too pristine, like he’s not moved in it, not sat down. 

When Paul lifts his head from where it’s bent on his neck, his salacious smirk disappears the moment he sees Eddie. He’s far less handsome with that ugly frown on his face. He looks like a petulant child. 

“What are you doing here?” 

Eddie bites his tongue. Then forces a fake smile as he greets politely, “Good to see you too, Paul.” 

He expected nothing less from the guy, but that didn’t make it any easier to hold back. Sure, he wasn’t serving him in the restaurant–so there weren’t any clearly defined rules here–but you were about to go out on a date with the guy. So he held back. 

“Y/N will be right out, she’s-” 

The click of your heels against the wood floors sound behind him. Paul’s smirk spreads across his face like molasses as he eyes you. Though Eddie’s sure they don’t roam further than your chest. 

A surge of unrightful possessiveness swells within him at Paul’s obvious ogling. 

“Hey!” You greet him cheerily and Eddie steps aside, fading into the background. 

“Hey, babe,” Paul says as you reach him and Eddie cringes at the territorial nickname. It takes everything in him not to shudder like he’s just seen a child pick their nose and wipe it on a pole in the subway. 

You hug and Eddie watches as one of Paul's long arms stretches around your waist, though his hand hovers dangerously low before you pull away and Paul remarks, “Ready to go?”

“Yup,” You confirm, with a sweet smile. With that, Paul guides you out of the apartment with a hand on your middle back and just before you exit the apartment, you request: “Lock up on your way out?” 

It shouldn’t feel this good to have your attention on him again. Shouldn’t make his heart skip in his chest. 

Eddie just nods, sure that if he tried to speak, he would emit some embarrassing sound instead of a casual sure thing.

You smile at him widely, “Bye, Eddie.” Has his name always sounded that lovely? 

“Bye, Y/N.” Has your name ever felt that lovely rolling off his tongue? 

The door slams shut behind you. 

“Shit.” 

Eddie’s belly bubbles with a feeling. Jealousy burns in his gut. He has no right to feel this way. The moment he names it, he wants to un-name it. The moment he names it, he wants to ban the word from his mind, shove it inside one of those dark spots up there, and hope it never sees the light of day again. 

He made a promise to Robin. He doesn’t get to feel this way. 

So he tries his best not to call it what it is and tells himself that it has to be a simple combination of his hatred for Paul and his knowledge that you are a ridiculously wonderful person who deserves so much better than Paul Becker. But this is all he can allow himself to acknowledge. 

What he will not acknowledge is the third part to this equation that adds up to this feeling. What he will not acknowledge is the way he feels when you look at him, when you say his name, when you stand in front of him in a black dress and he can’t tell you how pretty you look. 

So he focuses on the one thing that is the most natural to him: the fact that Eddie hates Paul. 

⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂ ⌂

Next Chapter [coming soon]

A/N: And that is chapter one, folks! I've been working on this for months now, so I really, really hope you enjoyed it. Please consider reblogging and leaving a nice comment or sending me an ask telling me what you thought!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson series #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x you #stranger things one shot #stranger things series #steve harrington #robin buckley #nancy wheeler #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #wtrstp⌂

[luminous-letters]

Hello I recently went roller skating and was wondering if you could do the first year's or thr dorm leaders go on a roller skating date with their S/O :D

i don't know much about roller skating, so i'll just base it on some old shows i saw a while back 😭

also, the character limit per request is three 😭. so i picked what i think you'd like me to write, anon 🛐

This shouldn't be that hard.

It was, in fact, very hard.

He likened it to wearing heels at first.

So far so good during the early few seconds.

He didn't expect to land hard on his butt.

"I'll get the hang of this, I assure you."

An hour and a tantrum later, he finally managed to balance himself enough to not fall.

"I did it, see?" he proudly told you, even offering you a little twirl to boast.

He offered an outstretched hand, "Shall we?" he nodded towards the rink.

"Why not?" you were gushing, lightly chuckling as Riddle slowly guided you to a flat space in the rink.

You wanted to show off yourself. Seeing Riddle move his entire body to catch up with your speed was something you got a kick out of.

You were swiftly gliding on the concrete. Riddle, meanwhile, got fed up and used magic to enchant his shoes.

"Just you wait!"

No.

He was better off sleeping.

And he doesn't want to risk embarrassing himself in front of you, moreso in front of a crowd.

He knew the basics, sure, but that doesn't mean he'll join in.

It took a lot of convincing on your part.

By convincing, you mean a hefty amount of cuddles and petting.

"Gotta balance yourself, babe, don't want to hurt that cute butt of yours."

He held both of your hands in his so you wouldn't fall.

He snaked an arm around your hip right after.

Leona pulled you closer, until his lips were less than an inch away from yours.

He said with his signature grin, "Caught your eye?"

"Want a kiss?"

Bashfully, with you blushing like a dork, you nodded.

Roller skating required a lot more...dexterity than he thought.

It was like his first time coming to land all over.

He tried not to trip and fall. He had a reputation to keep for god's sake!

In the end, he was holding onto you for his dear life.

Help him.

"Out of all the other options we could— AH!"

Curse you, land sports.

Curse you, roller blades.

Curse you and your smug face, MC.

"It could've been a restaurant, or a café."

"Come on, it's fun!"

While Azul wasn't a lost cause, it was definitely a chore to teach him how to balance himself.

Jamil's complaints were starting to make sense.

"Alright, I've finally gotten the gist of it," said Azul, who donned a complete set of safety equipment and had a first aid kit on standby.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #gender neutral reader #gn!mc #twst x reader #twst headcnaons #twst scenarios #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #fluff #twst fluff #answered ask #writing #my writing #how are my new headers? 👁️

[bizarrequazar]

GJ and ZZH Updates — July 23-29

< previous week || all posts || following week >

This is part of a weekly series collecting updates from and relating to Gong Jun and Zhang Zhehan.

This post is not wholly comprehensive and is intended as an overview, links provided lead to further details. Dates are in accordance with China Standard Time, the organization is chronological. My own biases on some things are reflected here. Anything I include that is not concretely known is indicated as such, and you’re welcome to do your own research and draw your own conclusions as you see fit. Please let me know if you have any questions, comments, concerns, or additions. :)

[Glossary of names and terms] [Masterlist of my posts about the situation with Zhang Zhehan]

07-23 → L'Oreal posted a behind the scenes video from their commercial featuring Gong Jun.

→ Gong Jun Outdoor Office posted a video of him writing "ridiculous" on a paper fan. Caption: "Wuhu! Picked up a small study video!" BGM is a qin cover of Blood Actor by HITA.

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted a behind the scenes video. Caption: "Welcome to 'Into Science', see how the three-person team on set, Ren Anle @ Dear-Dilraba Dilmurat, Han Ye @ Gong Jun Simon, Luo Mingxi @ Modern Xiongdi Liu Yuning, distinguish the wind direction based on reference objects, deduce clues, and catch the 'murderer'! There are more joyful and funny daily routines, waiting for you to watch~"

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a video of behind the scenes footage from his photoshoot on 07-13. Caption: "Courtyard Pavilion, His Royal Highness @ Gong Jun Simon broke through the barrier of dimensions, and lit a cluster of candles in a square inch." BGM is Fever by Brasstracks.

→ Gong Jun's studio posted six photos of Han Ye. Caption: "A gentleman is as good as a grinder. His Royal Highness @ Gong Jun Simon stills without watermark come 'Ye'!"

07-24 → The Legend of Anle Weibo posted a promotional poster of Han Ye and Ren Anle.

→ The Instagram posted a video of "Zhang Zhehan" playing guitar.

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted two promotional stills of Han Ye.

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a douyin of behind the scenes footage from his photoshoot on 07-13. Caption: "Shadowy, mottled light and dark, hazy mirror glimpses a moment of burning dreams" BGM is

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted a behind the scenes video. Caption: "Ren Anle @ Dear-Dilraba Dilmurat almost slipped and yelled 'ah', Han Ye @ Gong Jun Simon focused on taking photos in his own world, such a happy and peaceful person!"

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a douyin of Han Ye. Caption: "You don’t hesitate to ask questions, His Royal Highness @ Gong Jun Simon, who is full of knowledge and understanding, there is nothing that can’t be answered"

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted a behind the scenes video. Caption: "Ren Anle @ Dear-Dilraba Dilmurat 'saved' the weak prince Han Ye @ Gong Jun Simon and made everyone laugh, and even stared straight at Han Ye's abs. Han Ye's belated sense of shame is like no one else~"

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a video of clips of Han Ye. Caption: "It is a great fortune to have such a reserve. Let’s see the courageous and resourceful Prince Han Ye @ Gong Jun Simon manage both upwards and downwards!"

→ Gong Jun posted a gif of Han Ye. Caption: "Report a little bit, the bottleneck period has been ten years, and today is finally no longer stuck✌️" This was reposted by his studio, added caption: "Rest assured, His Royal Highness does not need to paint every painting for ten years!"

→ Gong Jun Outdoor Office posted two gifs of Han Ye. Caption: "What is Gong Jun's bottleneck period? Nonexistent! Repost this His Royal Highness, the inspiration comes quickly 'Ye'~"

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a video of Han Ye. Caption: "With Dajing’s special supply of brainwave translators, are you afraid that you won’t be able to share your worries for His Royal Highness @ Gong Jun Simon?"

→ Gong Jun Outdoor Office posted three photos of him filming an interview. Caption: "Today is also a day of hard work!"

07-25 → L'Oreal posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ The Instagram posted ten miscellaneous photos of "Zhang Zhehan" and full offense if you think those are all the same person you should book yourself an eye appointment.

→ Two videos were released of Gong Jun promoting Chengdu. [1] [2] [subbed 2nd video]

→ Gong Jun's studio posted thirteen photos of Gong Jun. Caption: "In the green and verdant summer, the shadows of the trees are dancing like a dream. @ Gong Jun Simon is here with the summer photos~"​​​​

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a douyin of behind the scenes footage from the photoshoot. Caption: "The warm sun is pouring down, the shadows of the trees are whirling, let’s indulge in this warm summer day with @ Gong Jun Simon~" BGM is a cover (I can't find the specific one) of Baby Don't Cry by EXO.

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted two promotional stills of Han Ye.

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted a behind the scenes video. Caption: "Ren Anle and Han Ye's tragic scene in a carriage is so heartbreaking, but when Han Ye's sadness was loaded, he was taken away by the movement on the side, and he couldn't hold back! It turns out that there is such happiness behind the sadness."

→ Guduo Xingfan posted a short video of him reacting to a fan's response to his dancing douyin from the previous week.

→ 361° posted a photo ad featuring Gong Jun.

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted a video of Gong Jun and Dilireba looking ridiculously attractive together. Caption: "Once you put on the mask, you will fall into deeply love, and your eyes will look at each other, full of love. As long as it's one Anle @ Dear-Dilraba Dilmurat selected, His Royal Highness @ Gong Jun Simon will like it~"

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a behind the scenes video from Legend of Anle. Caption: "Is the grilled fish tasteless for His Royal Highness? @ Gong Jun Simon's culinary style review was murdered, this wave must be caused by firewood! Since it's rare to be by yourself, Han Ye can enjoy the life at the bottom of the valley for now~"

→ The influencer Little Bowl posted a video of herself and Gong Jun doing a douyin dance together.

07-26 → The Legend of Anle Weibo posted fourteen photos of Gong Jun and Dilireba and taken by a child photographer. Caption: "Summer is slow, the breeze is light, the sun is scorching, not as good as you and me."

→ The photographer, Sheng Sheng, posted a vlog of the photoshoot.

→ Gong Jun's studio posted eighteen photos of him. Caption: "Wonderful nature outlines the outline of summer, and the cool breeze and shadows flow the dark fragrance. The little cutie @ Sheng Sheng and @ Gong Jun Simon are behind the lens~"

→ People found the copyright information for the ugly Baobao doll the scam has been pushing recently. The design is credited to Ren Zijun, the son of Chen Qunying's boyfriend; Zhang Zhehan's name is not connected to it anywhere.

→ Gong Jun posted six photos from the same shoot. Caption: "The photographer @Sheng Sheng and the model are very professional"

→ Gong Jun Outdoor Office posted five photos of him and the child photographer. Caption: "Shoot the cutie and shoot him!"

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted a promotional still of Han Ye.

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a video of the shoot. (14:11, 511 kadian) Caption: "Big hands hold little hands, happy today 🈶️! Recording the tacit cooperation between the special 'Ye' model @ Gong Jun Simon and the little photographer~" BGM is 5361 by Davis Chris.

→ Fox Factory posted a clip of Gong Jun teasing their interview with him they would later release.

→ Gong Jun Outdoor Office posted seven photos of Han Ye on public screens. Caption: "His Royal Highness the Crown Prince is crowned in all directions[.] Wildly organize a small face-to-face arrangement! P.S. See you after the Daping typhoon in Shenzhen, everyone must pay attention to travel safety!"

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a video of Han Ye from an emotional scene. Caption: "The farewell to the king, yesterday will never be the same. You can hear the heartbreaking voice of His Royal Highness @ Gong Jun Simon across the screen…"

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted a behind the scenes video.

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a behind the scenes video from Legend of Anle. Caption: "His Royal Highness @ Gong Jun Simon's daily itinerary sharing: Attend the banquet! The vlog for the banquet has started simultaneously~"

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a promotional image in celebration of Legend of Anle maintaining a high popularity rating. Caption: "The Prince's Mansion has great news! 'The Legend of Anle' has surpassed 10,000 popularity on Youku for 10 consecutive days, Prince Han Ye @ Gong Jun Simon has no regrets!"

07-27 → The Legend of Anle Weibo posted two promotional stills of Han Ye.

→ Gong Jun reposted a trailer for Huang Xiaoming's new drama, The Infiltrator. Added caption: "See you tonight, Fang Jiashu, let's watch together!!"

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted an interview with Gong Jun done during filming. Caption: "@ Gong Jun Simon’s exclusive interview is here~ Interpret Han Ye’s feelings for Ren Anle/Di Ziyuan online, talk about the experience of cooperating with Luo Mingxi in detail, and highlight the back and forth in the quick question and answer game. For the exciting, please click the video to watch!"

→ Gong Jun's studio posted nine gifs of Han Ye. Caption: "The secrets of the rules of 'Dajing's Storybook' are revealed! You only need to choose one of the following three lines of storybooks to know the development of the story between you and His Royal Highness @ Gong Jun Simon. Come and tell me what kind of exclusive storybook you found~"

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted a behind the scenes video. Caption: "Ziyuan sees 'flowers', Han Ye's 'flowers' bloom, Ren Anle @ Dear-Dilraba Dilmurat and Han Ye @ Gong Jun Simon study the details of each other's scenes on the set, and they can't escape the 'world of flowers', romance and reversal are even more in one thought, everyone on the shooting scene laughed so hard that they couldn't control themselves!"

→ Tiffany & Co. posted three photos of Gong Jun from the shoot released the previous day, highlighting their jewelry.

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a behind the scenes video from Legend of Anle. Caption: "Check the files, sort out the case, judge and maintain order. His Royal Highness @ Gong Jun Simon participates in the whole process of judging the case, focusing on doing it yourself!"

→ Gong Jun Outdoor Office posted a video of Gong Jun running with a collie. Caption: "What is Gong Jun doing today?"

→ Two articles of interviews with Gong Jun were released. [1] [2]

→ The Zhang Sanjian TikTok posted another cringey dancing video. Bluebird later posted a thread comparing shots from this to the real Zhang Zhehan.

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted four promotional stills of Han Ye and Ren Anle. Caption: "Protect each other for the rest of their lives, hearts moved for a lifetime, the flowers are in full bloom, and this moment is eternal."

07-28 → Fox Factory posted their interview with Gong Jun. [subbed clip]

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted a promotional poster.

→ Gong Jun Outdoor Office posted a behind the scenes photo from the the Fox Factory interview.

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted a promotional still of Han Ye.

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted a video of Dilireba, Gong Jun, and Liu Yuning.

→ Hidden Strike, the Jackie Chan movie Gong Jun has a small role in, was released on Netflix.

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted a behind the scenes video. Caption: "Ren Anle @ Dear-Dilraba Dilmurat entered the scene for a second on the set, and almost fell when she turned around? Han Ye @ Gong Jun Simon played on the walkie-talkie while silently speaking, then turned around and chatted and laughed with Wen Shuo @ Chen Tao. There are so many stories behind the famous scenes that you must not miss~"

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a behind the scenes video form Legend of Anle. Caption: "The hidden camera is back! Today we set off to visit the set, His Royal Highness @ Gong Jun Simon is serious about filming on the set, and his attitude of striving for perfection is really admirable!"

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted a promotional poster of Han Ye.

→ The photographer Sheng Sheng posted a douyin of her photoshoot with Gong Jun.

07-29 → Gong Jun posted a douyin of comparative shots of him and Han Ye. Caption: "Now it's Gong Jun who makes do"

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a picture comic about Legend of Anle's third story arc. Caption: "Following the imperial examination fraud case and the Jiangnan corruption case, His Royal Highness @ Gong Jun Simon helped push the truth of the ten-year injustice case to be revealed, and he is worthy of being the Dajing guardian of justice!"

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted two promotional stills of Han Ye.

→ The Legend of Anle Weibo posted a behind the scenes video. Caption: "Facing the enemy’s surprise attack, Di Ziyuan and Wen Shuo teamed up to confront each other head-on, drawing their swords in the same style, and the fighting scenes were chic and neat. There is no doubt that the siblings have a tacit understanding! And Han Ye quickly came to assist, and the round of competition ended perfectly."

→ Gong Jun's studio posted a behind the scenes video from Legend of Anle. Caption: "His Royal Highness with both ability and political integrity @ Gong Jun Simon is worthy of being the quality benchmark for Dajing citizens~ Humble, careful, gentlemanly and polite, the original lines are also gentle and powerful, injecting the soul in a second!"

→ The preview released for next week's Hello Saturday episode, which Gong Jun will be appearing on with Dilireba and Liu Yuning.

→ Gong Jun Outdoor Office posted a clip of behind the scenes from the douyin Gong Jun posted that morning. Caption: "Good night (from Han 'didn’t find the pillow' Ye & Gong 'long legs can’t let go' Jun)"

Additional Reading: → It's rumored that Gong Jun will be attending New York fashion week in September.

< previous week || all posts || following week >

#Zhang Zhehan #Gong Jun #woh cast #The Legend of Anle #lld timeline #I hate you new post editor that fucks with my hyperlinks #I hate you I hate you

[jenchann]

A Star, Stars Away(M) - Three

DISCLAIMER: I am by no means saying the celebrity is of this character in any way or form, we are just here for fun so take it lightly.

WARNINGS: Fingering(fem receiving), overstimulation, fluid exchange, dirty talk, fetish mention. Also Chan is topless. That's all.

ONE - TWO - FOUR

You met in a small night stall this time, he was already buying food, dressed in an all black ensemble - oversized hoodie and jeans paired with a mask but you could still tell it was him. A small smile plastered on your lips as you approached him and greeted him.

“Hi”

He handed over your food as soon as you reached and together you went over to sit on the concrete bench.

“I thought you were on a diet” you commented as he finally settled down.

“And how do you know that miss Y/N” he chided along.

“I saw a clip of you saying that when scrolling insta” you tried to reason as calmly as possible trying not to give away anything but he smirked wider.

“You’re my fan huh” he began to tease you after few seconds of observation.

You decided to play along with him as you exaggeratedly said “Chan~ah, give me your autograph!” you acted dramatically, making a puppy face.

He laughed at that, making you smile widely and when he calmed down what he asked made you blush red, all the blood rushing to your face, neck and ears and almost choking in the bite you took.

“So would you like to tell me how it was to have kissed your idol” he teased you, half expectantly waiting for a real answer. And you pretended not to hear as you faced away in the pretense of biting into your food and continued chewing, facing away.

“Was it that bad” his voice was all soft with a hint of sadness now. You looked at him for a few moments and said quietly “No” and continued to eat.

You saw him smile a genuine smile from the corner of your eyes and you both ate in silence.

“Remember when we met in the balcony for the first time?” he started.

Now all your attention was on him, said “yeah” expectantly up at him.

“I saw you that day dancing and I wanted to get to know you right away.”

“Anddd.....” he dragged “That balcony meet was unexpected, no one usually goes there. But then I saw someone there so I treaded outside and it was you there. And at the staff meeting, I just wanted to see you again but you looked fucking good in that black dress and red lips” he said as his gaze never wavered from your face.

“I would like to keep meeting you, if it’s okay with you” he asked you.

“Keep meeting…..as?” you prompted him.

“I…” he trailed off as he dipped his head down on his hands. Raising back up he spoke to the point.

“I’m not sure if this might lead to any sort of commitment or not. I…don’t think I can commit to anyone right now. But I’d like to try, so I would like to do whatever this is? I would like for it to be an exclusive one, if it gets intimate. What do you say?”

“So….you want to be friends with benefits?” you cut to the chase.

He looked torn, disarmingly agreeing “Something like that” he quietly confirmed.

“I knew it was going to be something like this” you replied to him. “I mean there isn’t any other look at this y’know? We barely know each other and to get to know some sort of dating should happen and you said you can’t do that right now”

The scene was getting heavy Chan felt, so he spoke up “That is the best I can offer now, we could see what happens if you want to. I’m also sorry if this had offended you.”

Then you two ate and continued to talk leaving the heavy topic behind, under the soft lights on the street. Refilling your food you both ate happily, being the two foodies you were. It was time to leave soon and you stood up, picking up your bag as you turned to leave.

“I’ll let you know my decision, Chan” you looked at him voicing your departure.

“Yeah. And….you really shine like a star, y'know?” he said as he edged closer to you and cupped your nape. He silently asked for permission and dipped low to meet you as you tilted up unconsciously toward him. Your lips were eager to taste that sweet sweet poison one more time, feel him caress your tongue against his. You expected this to be a hot, tongues clashing one but you did not expect a sweet one instead.

You kept gazing at his lips in a daze after you pulled apart while muttering “You shouldn’t kiss me like that Chan.” And you looked right into his eyes for the following sentence.

“Someone might end up with a broken heart, it’s dangerous y’know ”

“Just wanted you to remember me by a  little sweet thing if this was the last one” he said, voice laced with slight loss. His hands now on your waist, tightened on the fabric.

“So you think I’ll not accept the offer”

“Maybe…” he calmly responded. You pondered over what he said and you finally responded as equally as calm.

“I get to choose what I want at the end anyway” your lips rose up and you kissed on his throat, right where you could feel his pulse. Releasing yourself out of his grip and muttering a farewell, you walked away from him. Hair tresses bouncing to follow you behind with each step you took.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 You texted Chan after days of pondering within yourself, that you agree. He was starting to get busy with his upcoming schedules too, making the communication slow and finally both agreed to meet up the coming Thursday around evening.

It was decided that he would pick you up to a place he knew and you were asked to dress comfortably.

That day came too fast and you exited your dorm that fine evening and a car pulled up in front of you right on time. After at least a half-an-hour drive, far from the crowded city he pulled up to a big house structured in a very modern style but still preserving a simplicity about it.

“It's yours” You enquired not knowing what else to ask.

“Yeah, a place I got to relax when I’m stressed. Its new so I haven't decorated much. Feel free to look around if you’d like to”

You explored outside the building first, it had a pool that was closed with a wooden sheet camouflaging like a garden floor. He parked the car and guided you around the lower floor which had a kitchen, two rooms- wherein one was furnished with a big ass Bed and additionally a huge hall in the midst of the two rooms. The upper floor had another two rooms which had packed goods untouched in their casings.

“Would you like a drink? Maybe some wine?” he asked as you both descended down the stairs.

“ Later maybe? I would just like some water please”

“Alright” he said as he proceeded to fill two glasses, one with water and another with fruit juice from the fridge.

You wandered out and saw the badminton bats on the window sill of the garage left orphaned. Picking them out from the covers you looked around for the cork and there it was almost escaped to be squished by the garage shutter. Chan joined shortly, carrying your glass of water and you gulped it muttering a small thank you.

“The bat seemed to be abandoned on the window sill” you inform him.

“The window?” he asked confusedly and his face morphed into realisation and cursed Changbin under his breath making you smile.

And you both played badminton for quite awhile; well you tried. You played it a very long time ago and you were rusty and that paired With someone who was very athletic? You struggled. Then he laughed at your suffering as he soon eased to teach you patiently. You learned quick but still it was tiring enough so you both headed inside after much struggle. He headed upstairs to take a shower, he informed graciously.

“ You can take a shower too in that room if you want to freshen up. Feel free to borrow my dress alright?” he pointed to the room that had the bed.

You nodded and saw him ascend up the stairs and you moved towards the bedroom too. Locking it once inside, you contemplated whether you should take a shower or not and your mind reminded that you did need one after that small sports session. You were hesitant to wear his clothes but still browsed through them anyway. And you accidentally opened the underwear compartment and snapped it shut as fast as you opened it. Calming down, you browsed the others in hope of finding an old shirt. But this is a wardrobe of a billionaire you’re searching through, Of course you did not find anything that looked old. Hopeless, you just grabbed a black t-shirt and laid it out on the bed.

You took a shower and dressed up in his shirt which was enough to reach your knees. Taking a look in the mirror, your embarrassment returned as you discarded the shirt , pushing it above your wet hair and you re-wore your dress. Drying your hair in the towel which was so fucking soft, you opened the door to see Chan crouched over the TV searching something. You looked back at the shirt and went over to dry your hair using a lone hairdryer on the dressing table before the mirror, casting a look at his shirt again.

If things were to start today, it would be better to wear new clothes right?

You emerged to the hall after drying your hair and Chan called out, his back facing you, to ask if you were okay with a movie and which one you wanted to see. Answering him you noticed his clothes were now changed to casual and the above the knee pants made your eyes linger on his legs.

You came out clutching his shirt trying to hide it as best as possible and sat down on the sofa and he cast a confused glance as you still wore your dress but your hair was damp. The lights were dimmed down to a soft golden glow and the opening credits in the film was already playing when you both settled in comfortably.

Half way through the movie you were beginning to doze and you tried to snuggle into his warmth without getting too close as you kept shivering. Noticing your  struggle he clutched your hands and laced it with his as he perched it on top of his thighs. You were fully awake by then blinking away the sleep, his thighs were warm. And you turned to talk to him about what you agreed yesterday.

"So .." and his full attention was on you.

But words refused to come out anyone and you started at him gawking there. He leaned in to place a kiss on top of your lips. You just stared at him as he then pulled you on to his lap and you settled nicely, feeling his warmth around you. Lips met again feverishly this time, hands roaming down his chest to his sides, clutching him. His hands rushed to caress your hips and your small back, making you buck against him as he slightly assisted your hips forward against him.

“Should I help you change?” he softly asked.

Receiving a confirmation, he bunches your dress from the sides and asked

“Shall I?” again as he held eye contact unwavered.

Unzipping your dress from the back, his fingers ghosted over your spine making you arch into him, right as his fingers reached the middle of your back. Your breast were aligned in front of his face, pushed out in all their glory but his eyes were never leaving yours, teasing and tempting you. Even when in your undies, he still looked at your face and you bit your lips as his intense contact that left you vulnerable and open. You thought he’d pickup up the shirt you brought but he removed the one he was wearing instead. This time, unlike him, you couldn’t help but stare at his torso and damn. The moment you saw his skin all you wanted was to lick him up like the tastiest dessert you’ve had. His shirt was soon on you, you could smell his faint cologne and leaving you wanting to moan and sigh for this motherfucker already. His hands were still on your bare hips, under the shirt.

You kissed him forcefully now, tongues clashing and lapping as you both clutched each other. Chan's hands barely moved from your hips which slightly frustrated you. Cutting off your thoughts, he clutched your nape and forced you to smooch against his lips again, fluids coating each other as his hot tongue invaded you warmth. Getting annoyed you grabbed his other hand laying static and pushed it up towards your breasts, rubbing them against your sore perky nipples covered in thin fabric. You sighed contently at the contact, some contact better than none you said to yourself.

But he pushed your hand away and moved them under the shirt and pushed your bra up, spilling your boobs out as he roughly kneaded your right breast. He continued his assault as he tweaked the red buds with occasional smacking and circling and jiggling, making you go insane. Moans spilled out shamelessly from you, you really thought you could get off just from that if he kept doing it that good, the thought in turn made your pussy gush out large amounts of arousal. By the time he was done, your buds were begging for mercy, leaving both your nipples sensitive.

“Ch-Chan p-please” you breathed out.

He lifted up the shirt on you along with the bra pushing it to your neck to suckle on the buds. Warm tongue provided momentary relief before he began to nibble and suck alternatively. Your toes began to curl, your hands clutching his shoulders as your head was thrown back. Soon your wet panties were discarded behind, his right hand already palming your bare pussy. His ridges pressed deliciously against your bud, while his left hand clutched your back holding you in place. He could smell the arousal leaking out of you much better now, your wetness drenching his shorts’ front, mixing with his own precum, staining the fabric.

His finger slipped in effortlessly first, slowly stretching you as he pumped back and forth tortuously, making you feel his finger. Another added in and your moans got louder as he started to speed up. You’d give anything to see his veiny hands between your thighs as his fingers worked magic on your lips but today was not the day it seemed, you couldn’t focus well. Fingers stimulated your labia occasionally circling the bud, as his other hand sent smack across your ass stimulating you inside out.

“Do you know how good you look right now?” he spoke lowly that you barely registered in the fucked out state.

“C-Chan” you whimpered looking into his eyes.

“Do you know how fucking delicious you look with my fingers in you, getting fucked while you fall apart by it?” he said as his pace faltered and sped up making you whine.

“You know what's even better?” her continued like you weren’t withering and moaning while his fingers drilled into you.

“You falling apart by my fingers while wearing my shirt”

You weren’t expecting him to be like this, yet this was so Chan. Soft but hard, calming but destroying you inside.

Your pussy pulsed around his fingers tight as he said that. His smirk dropping as his fingers fucked you faster now, the familiar taste of ecstasy peeking up, eyes drinking up your reactions.

“Fu-Fuck-k, don't stop” you said burying yourself into his neck, breathing his scent in, stimulating your hormones more. Your legs unconsciously opened wider, giving him ease of access and you felt something hot poking your inner thighs. Getting curious, you peaked down to see his print and damnnnn fuck he was huge.

Did he hide a fucking monster under it what? How is that gonna fit fuck. You thought to yourself as quite a worrisome task but your pussy said otherwise, leaking as it tightened around his digits, trying to lock him in.

“I- I’m Cumming” you informed him and he added another finger making you thrash around him in vain as you came strong.

“Fu-uck-Fuck-F-Fuck” swearing and chanting his name all over but he did not stop, ignoring your protests as he continued ramming inside you and your toes curled again in pleasure of your second orgasmic high. Your thighs shook with the force of the second orgasm and your nails digged into his shoulder blades, trying to ground yourself as you felt jelly in his hands.

You sinked into his figure after riding it out, falling limp as the days activities all started to show fatigue in your body. You zoned out and barely registered as he smacked his fingers out of his mouth, humming.

“Taste good” he muttered that barely registered in your mind. Few minutes passed and Chan softly kept caressing your back. After quite sometime you realised he never touched himself yet and your left hand trailed down his torso to palm him and you were right, he is big.

And hot n' stiff as a rod. You were quite impressed by his control and so you palmed him slowly, caressing what you thought as his tip as you swiveled and gripped through the shorts. He groaned lowly as he pushed your hands away, protesting that you were tired and its alright if you did not return the favor now. You raised up from his shoulders to disagree with him but the unplanned sporty session definitely did seem to tire you out, making you sink back into him as fast as you got up.

He laughed at that and leaned in for a kiss, the familiar taste of him mixing with yours as his scent of arousal lingered around with your scent fucking with your mind. Your hips buckled as you tried to grind on him in vain attempt but it seemed to work as he again lowly breathed out.

“No, no, no” he said stilling your hips as he carried you, raising above from the seat as he carried you over to the bedroom.

“You can rest up and if you’re luck enough you might hear me jack off and that’s the most you’re getting today”

You pouted but didn't protest as he left to the bathroom, clutching a towel. You fought to stay awake while you heard low groans from the bathroom but soon you were gone. After solid few minutes you were startled awake as he opened the bathroom door emerging out from it, towel hanging low from his abdomen.

And the last thing you saw was him staring at you, clutching his towel and your lips tugged a smile sleepily as you fell into slumber in bliss.

Four =>

#astarstarsaway #bangchan stray kids #bangchan smut #christopher bang #HC_ASSA #AStarStarsAway #bang chan x reader #bang chan x female reader #bang chan straykids #hyuckiechan #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #reader x bangchan #bang chris #chris bang #skz imagines #skz chan smut #skz chan x reader #kpop fic #kpop smut #fanfiction

[qfzeeph]

Wanted to share my goofy ah crossover oc x canon ship today because why not!!

excuse the slightly older art I don't have the energy or time to draw at the moment Characters: Chere Altridge [OC], Byakuya Togami Ship Name: Chergami Going to keep this mainly to fluff! But there will be mentions of both SA and extremely mild spicy talk within, so tread with caution if need be. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

So I actually have one of those "Get to Know My Ship in 5 Minutes" things I made awhile back but never posted wehhhhhh- but before that I want to share some general stuff. I haven't posted too too much of my character's backstories and lore here just yet so I probably won't go too too deep into what I have planned for these two (I actually have a whole sheet for Chere but it hasn't been updated in awhile!) Lore Related Stuff: The continuity in which Chere and Byakuya are romantically involved is entirely an AU of both plotlines respectively. This AU also crosses over both my Final Fantasy continuity and Danganronpa (obviously.) In Chere's story, Byakuya takes the place of a different character that Chere develops a relationship with (to be fair - said character is based off of him as well and pretty much exists because I like the idea of Chere being able to heal through a relationship very very much! Being able to heal without a partner is all part of my other character Zephyr's plotline.) I write Byakuya in the non-despair setting, and having just recently graduated college. During his college years, he's become significantly more mellow behind closed doors, but has to keep the rich asshole mask on in public. He's getting ready to inherit the big family business, and he's under extreme pressure from his elderly father to start producing heirs. Most of the time, he's not interested in the women being placed in his bedroom by their parents hoping their daughter will get to bear a Togami child, and will either pay her to leave and not say a word. At first, he'd indulge his suitors (safely of course) but quickly learned he wasn't enjoying having one night stands with rich girls who just want to get laid and bear the child of someone with status. Byakuya isn't opposed to being in a relationship, he just wishes he could be in one with someone who isn't following him for his money and he wants a strong partner who can hold their own.

So, How Did These Two Even Meet!? Byakuya and his father attended a high end Chocobo Racing event in Chere's home country (Grimore.) Chocobo Racing is seen as an exotic sport to those who are outside of Grimore since the birds only have a population within the country boarders. Chere and Byakuya are around the same age, Chere has some sort of status due to her respect as a high ranking Chocobo Jockey (though far lower than anything the family would settle for.) His father sees this as an opportunity to try and introduce magic-bearing Grimorian genes into the Togami family, and with the help of some of the upper management of the event a "date" was planned between the two without either party knowing. The plan was to tell both of them that the other was interested in meeting and potentially hooking up. Chere wasn't on board, but decided she'd humor her suitor and refuse him as soon as she was bought to the bedroom. Byakuya had started preparing to pay another greed driven woman to stay out of his room. When the time came, neither party cooperated. Chere cursed him out for trying to court her, and Byakuya angrily declared he'd never settle for someone that low in society. They had a pretty viscous argument, but things came to a standstill when the two reached a mutual "Oh, you actually didn't want to be here either. We were tricked." Apologies were dished out (though Byakuya's wasn't very concrete, he's Byakuya after all. Man can't apologize to save his life but boy will he learn!) and the rest of the time spent together was fairly pleasant albeit awkward because of how they had just been fighting. They left on mutual terms, but didn't intend on hanging out anytime soon because of how terribly things had begun. Fate would have other plans, however, as Byakuya would continue running into Chere throughout the duration of the event. Between playing pool in the venue's game hall, jockey meet and greets, and corporate leisure events the jockeys had been invited to, they tended to gravitate toward one another just because it had been a familiar face. Through this, they learned more and more about one another, how the other felt about the world, and general, non trauma related talks of each other's backgrounds. By the time the event had ended, they had become good friends. Byakuya even bet on Chere in her headline race and won a huge sum of money after she won!

Well, When Did They Hook Up Then? Things really began to snowball after the event, when they had to split ways and were countries apart. They stayed in contact, both having very easy ways to see the other (Zephyr makes a pretty good taxi in pegasus form and Byakuya has his rich boy means of getting to Grimore.) They realize they miss the other person and have a hard time accepting their feelings towards one another. Byakuya, still clouded by his status and upbringing is mortified of the consequences of breaking the family tradition and having a partner rather than sleeping around. Chere's discomfort with her feelings is rooted in her abuse, she doesn't want to put faith in someone despite trusting them greatly because, at least in her mind, there's still a chance she could be hurt again. She decides to be strong and confess to him, which was against her better judgement, only to find out Byakuya had also fallen for her and was having the same amount of difficulty accepting his feelings.

What's Their Relationship Like? Very much a learning experience for both parties, but in the best possible way. Chere begins to grow comfortable around someone for the first time and learns that she can trust other people with her feelings. Byakuya learns how to care for someone other than himself and that he isn't bound by the path preset for him by his family. They have their tender moments where they learn what each other likes and dislikes, and have moments where they must put their familiarity aside to truly understand one another. Byakuya also gets to experience the hardships of falling for a magical girl and that her world is very, very different from his. Many people ask Byakuya how he ended up becoming the way he was, and many people ask Chere how she puts up with someone with that much status. Both always answer with "To love is to be changed." Over time, they learn they have far more in common than they thought and it just brings them closer. Later in life, they do end up marrying and having a child on their own terms. This pisses Byakuya's father off to no end, but that's a story for another day-

Alright, Just Post The Damn Chart! There's TONS of more lore I have for these two but as I mentioned a lot of it is based on Chere's lore which I haven't really posted about hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I've also started taking certain things (hint hint) from project raincode and working it into how their relationship functions... >:) But for now, here's this thing. I made it awhile ago when the post was going around but then forgot to post it whOOPS.

Hope ya enjoyed watching me yell about this!!! Maybe I'll post more sometime weheheheheh

#byakuya #togami #togamibyakuya #byakuya x oc #oc x canon #oc x canon writing #character writing #oc #original character #chere #chere altridge #cheregami #shipping #otp #my ship in 5 minutes #this is probably more than 5 minutes lmao

[void-kissed]

maeror viventi

Following the relinquishing of the Geo Archon’s Gnosis per the terms of his ultimate contract, Signora and Alectra are set to return to Snezhnaya in order to present their acquisition to the Tsaritsa. However, Alectra is unwilling to leave without checking on someone she had somehow grown attached to in Liyue - namely, of all people, the archon himself.  Takes place shortly after the third objective of The Fond Farewell. (1389 words) This piece focuses on my familial selfship with Zhongli. Content warning for discussion of death and grief.

A piece written to commemorate this date, and make concrete the solace brought to me by this character on this day, both last year and this year. This piece of writing is of great significance to me because of what it represents, but I still wanted to share it after having written it out, if that's alright.

Comments on and reblogs of my work are always okay, and appreciated, but they are never required.

(Tag list and document transcript under the readmore:)

Tag list: @sol-rbs | @dragonsmooch | @sunlight-ships | @bugsband | @z0raprince | @detective-with-one-arm | @deepsea-loves | @thatslikesometaldude (If you would like to be on the tag list, please see this post)

Document transcript:

The silver light of the moon shone down over the harbour, reflecting a dozen times in the lazily-lapping waves of the ocean. In the city of commerce itself, however, the lights that glowed were golden, softly shining outside buildings to illuminate the work of the evening. The night was somewhat livelier than usual, owing to the aftermath of the recent troubles afflicting Liyue that still needed to be fully sorted out, and the imminent Rite of Parting that was on the horizon and in many people’s thoughts. However, there were always serene spaces of quiet to be found if you knew where to look, even at times like these.

On one of the paved paths that wound up towards Yujing Terrace, a lone man was staring out over the sea and the city, arms crossed and resting on the barrier.

“Ah, so this is where you went, Mr. Zhongli.”

The voice caused the man to turn his head, looking down at the young woman standing before him. She normally gave off a threatening aura despite her small stature, with her once-corrupting sword in her hand and the blood-red feathers adorning her shoulders and the butterfly-wing mask that covered the left side of her face in ornate gold details - but on this quiet harbourside evening, she appeared decidedly subdued despite all this. Pearlescent teal-green eyes stared up towards his amber ones with an expression that was altogether both soft and sharp; he couldn’t help but feel that she was trying to hold something back.

“Miss Alectra?” he asked her, turning his body to address her with his eyebrows raised in mild surprise. “I must say, I would have expected you to have been on your way out of Liyue already.”

“There are still a few preparations that need to be made before the ship can set sail. And, even if there aren’t- they will wait for me.” she explained.

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Most courteous of your fellows.” Then he stopped. “In that case, then.. what brings you here, to have sought me out at this moment?”

She trailed off and looked away somewhat, as if she felt her reason was too trivial. Saying it out loud did not alleviate this feeling, either.

“I just.. wanted to make sure you were alright.” she finally admitted.

“Oh?” 

“It’s just-“ She repeated herself, and then stopped, regaining some of her usual even composure to continue with. “For an archon to give up their Gnosis is.. almost inconceivable to most onlookers. After all, as the oldest of the Seven, you have borne its weight for thousands of years. Regardless of what you are, to lose anything that had been so integral would surely be felt by anyone with such an item.”

At her words, the man now known as Zhongli paused - his previous light demeanour had shifted into something more contemplative as he considered her words. Thankfully, both he and Alectra were confident that no other individual was in their vicinity, and so despite the open space, they could both speak freely of their identities; both had known neither was an ordinary human since their first few encounters, after all.

“..You are correct that it was not a decision I made lightly.” he said finally. “However, having witnessed all that has befallen Liyue in recent days.. I am confident that both the Qixing and the adepti will adroitly continue to carry the nation into its new age, in their own individual ways.”

“That.. isn’t what I was concerned for.” Alectra responded, carefully studying his expression. “Although, it is good that you can have faith in this nation’s future. What I meant was - on a personal level - how will you fare in yourself?”

“Ah, so that’s what you were trying to say.” he said with a nod. “Well, I can certainly tell you that things have felt adequate for me thus far. Although it may only have been a short while, I don’t feel as though there’s anything worrying occurring.”

“That’s a relief.” Her words came quickly and loudly, and she visibly seemed to have some tension dissolve from her at his statement. “You.. deserve to get to see what happens next, even if you’ve taken yourself out of the equation. You should get to live your life the way that you want to now.”

“Why, that’s most kind of you to say, my dear.” he replied, understanding the kindness in her words despite the words themselves perhaps not sounding too affectionate. A smile had crept its way onto his face by now, holding both tiredness and gratitude.

She smiled in thanks in return. “I mean it. Besides, if I may touch on this..”

A short silence fell, but she sensed that he was content for her to continue; when she did so, her voice was quiet once again.

“You’re twelve times older than I am, and I am already six times older than what most humans reach. I.. can only imagine the number of friends you must have lost in the time that you have spent here, although I don’t suppose that that alone makes the experience any easier each time. And yet.. well, it must be somewhat surreal for you, to see your city mourning you while you still walk through it freely.”

Then, as she turned her body away to lean over the balcony as he had been doing, he heard another admission that was even quieter still. 

“..It’s an awful feeling, being mourned.”

There was a long silence, but then a hand came down onto her shoulder, firmly yet gently.

“If mourning is the expression of one’s grief.. Surely, it would not be wrong to say that such grief is an expression of the love held for those who have passed on. Though no part of this world can truly last for all of time.. This.. is the reason we must treasure the time spent with those that we care for. Even after many years have run their course, it is normal for the feelings to retain the same intensity as they had when the event first occurred. So, for as sad as it may be.. There is nothing wrong with expresssing that sadness, whenever it should happen to rise."

Something in her softened, like a feather melting into snow - and that single feather’s fall was enough to cause a rush of bursting tears from behind the crumbling dam she had tried to maintain since before she had even approached him on this lonely evening.

For all-too-bitter words exchanged between a brother weak from battle and a sister sharp with worry..

For the blameless lives so often torn apart and thrown aside, like pieces on a game board, at the whims of the divine..

For even that original pain, not of death, but of sorrow and anguish screamed through the flames as the nightingale sang to never leave her feeling this way ever again..

Despite how many years it had been, she had never before let herself mourn her own death, and that grief was now swallowing her whole.

Everything was wailing.

And yet, despite it all, he stayed there, as steadfast as stone. In fact, he did more than be some mere unmoving statue - he brought her forwards into a hug, placing his left hand on top of her head.

“This- isn’t right,” she tried to say through her tears, turning her head so that her mask would not dig into his suit as she returned the hold. “I came out here to offer you some solace, not the other way around-“

“That doesn’t mean I cannot be here for you, young nightingale.”

Despite what status he had held as a deity, despite whatever care he may have held or never had for the humans and the smaller little creatures of his own nation - let alone any other ones - the fact remained unchanged that Zhongli was someone Alectra had come to view as something like a father figure, even through the relatively short time they had spent together. 

..She held her tongue before the words admitting such could leave it, but the sentiment carried across to him nevertheless.

His eyes glittered as he grieved, and hers flooded as she mourned, and they spent what felt even to them like an eternity holding each other.

#a call from the void #creations from the void #genshin impact selfshipping #(though this is entirely focused on a familial selfship rather than any of my romantic ones) #this post is okay for anyone to reblog as long as my DNI is respected #my writing #grandfather: stone stands steadfast (zhongli) #familial F/Os #self‑insert: ashen nightingale (alectra) #these are the main focuses but there were also allusions to #brother: abyss‑forged warrior (tartaglia) #love: my fair lady (signora) #quite subtly but still #death mention #please let me know if this should be tagged with anything else #delayed echoes #since.. I set this to be posted at what should hopefully be the actual specific time. ten past one on the 23rd of january. #to anyone curious - the title translates as something along the lines of ''grief for the living'' #which.. I suppose fits the writing itself more than why it was written. but that's alright. #of wishes and visions (genshin impact)

[hopefulstarfire]

Have a little drabble featuring the boys :^)

The keys are dumped into the tray on the console by the door. His coats shrugged off and onto the hook on the wall, his shoes kicked off and lazily nudged to a spot in the corner before Diesel hurries over to greet him.

Maddox scratches his dog's head lovingly before walking into the mostly darkened penthouse, ready to simply head off to bed once he checked on the girls.

The sound of an all too familiar cartoon and the bright light coming from the large TV in the living room were enough to let him know he wasn't sneaking by easily; God knows he was going to try though. He just had to have silent footsteps, keep Diesel from reacting too much--

"So," Max drawled out, never turning from his spot on the couch. "How did the date go?"

Damnit.

Maddox sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he begrudgingly moved for the couch himself. He pushed his best friends scrawny legs off so he could sit down next to him, arms draping over the back of the couch as he sank into the cushions.

"It went alright, I guess," he finally said, red eyes staying on the screen. Funny Bunny was currently setting up yet another scheme to ruin the day of Ruff Ruff McDogg. He was pretty sure this was a newer episode from the reboot. "Probably won't be going on a second." He shifted, finally glancing over at Max, currently with a thick blanket draped over his lap and dressed in his robe and pink bunny slippers. "Did the girls do okay tonight?"

Max waved his hand a bit, going to pick up his wine glass. "They were little angels, as always," he told him proudly. "Even went to bed without much fuss this time, though they did try to stay up to wait for you. They tuckered themselves out with their big night with Uncle Max and Auntie Kitty." So their sister did come over for the week after all. "She's in bed, too, by the way. Told her she needs to be well rested for the tournament."

"Ah. That's good."

Max pouted, letting out a sigh. "It's a shame though, I thought Christina from the office would be a good match for you," he told him. "What was wrong with her? Anything that concerns work?"

The raven haired man shook his head, reaching up to tug his hair out of its usual ponytail. "No, she's nice. It wasn't miserable or anything. There just...wasn't a spark, I guess."

There hadn't been with anyone his best friend had tried to set up with in the past few years. He'd given Maddox a solid year after Paige had abandoned him and the twins before he started setting them up, at least. But they weren't exactly Maddoxs cup of tea to have to do. He'd rather use his time away from work to focus on the girls.

Max scoffed gently, taking a long sip of his drink. "Did you even try to feel one?"

He rolled his eyes. "Max--"

"Max nothing!" The silver haired man insisted. He sat up a bit more, hair falling a bit more to one side to reveal the shine of his golden eye. "Maddsy boy, you self sabotage. Every single time you go out on a date, you never give it a proper chance. You've got some fear of commitment."

Maddox shook his head. "First off, it's not a fear," he told him, dryly. "I just have been burned really badly in the past and don't want to go through that shit again." He held up a hand. "And, secondly; it's better that I don't anyways. I don't wanna date someone, bring them into Dahlia and Dinah's lives because I think it's going well and then it blow up in both their faces and in mine. They shouldn't have to go through abandonment again; I'm not going to let them."

His best friend sighed, letting his legs fold back up on the couch as he sat the glass down. "I can't say that it's going to be concrete that it wouldn't happen again," he said, after a moment. "But, there's a very strong chance it wouldn't. You deserve to be happy, Maddsy; Cecelia wouldn't want to see you alone, either, and she'd want you to have someone that loved the girls just as much. You have to open up your heart, though."

He could argue back that Max hadn't ever done the same, but he knew their cases were far, far different. He wouldn't rub that kind of salt in the wound, either. "I just...I know you want what's best for me. But I don't think I'm ready yet, either. Maybe...maybe some day. But not yet."

Silence filled the space between them, the only noise coming from the television, and the raven haired man kept his head bowed, fidgeting with his hands.

"I'm sorry I've pushed it," Max finally said, his voice soft. "I'll try and cut back. But...you have to promise me you'll try when you're ready."

He held out his hand for the other to shake and they gave a firm one, before doing finger guns. "Fine. I promise."

(He didn't know that in just two years from that moment, almost to the date, he would lay his eyes on the man that would make him feel finally ready to open his heart once more.)

#yugioh #my writing #ygo #ygo ocs #yugioh ocs #maddox griffin #maximillion pegasus #pegasus j crawford #you painted colors in my heart i could never replace

[2bdeveloped]

i am only me when i am deep in the crowd of a show/concert/any live music event

i was banned from going to shows growing up. my parents didn't trust my friends, and me even less. but when i was sixteen, i went to my first warped tour, dragged my (then) best friend with me, and i swear it was the only time in my life that i felt a sense of belonging. you can be whatever you want to be in that scene, and the liberation that comes with that kind of freedom was addicting.

this was more.

i can't put it into words well. or maybe at all. mostly because there is simply no string of words that could accurately express the way i feel. i have seen a lot of shows in my lifetime, and some shows still manage to give me that larger-than-life feeling. like it breathes life back into me and my soul says "ah, finally". being alive takes and takes from me, but shows give it back. sometimes i feel like my spirit/sould/whatever entity is snapped back into the same plane of existence as my body. the crowd is wild, screaming the lyrics back to the artist, dancing, moshing, crowd-surfing. you wish you could suspend time.

my boyfriend is not someone who understands this. to his credit, he'll go to these shows with me, and while i appreciate this, it takes away from my experience if i am worried about him enjoying himself. i just want to want myself to have a good time without having to worry about another person. regardless, he is not someone who understands how important this is to me. how big this is. how it can render everything else irrelevant. he goes for entertainment. i go because it's the only time i want to be alive. this is ok. i stopped trying to make people understand a long time ago, and just because i am dating him, does not make him any different. i do not justify the things that bring me joy anymore, to anyone, and my boyfriend will not be the exception.

i love him, all things considered. but i do not just love shows. love, on some level, implies choice, i think. i knew, in 2011, standing on the blazing hot concrete, thrashing my body and throwing elbows, that i never had a say in the matter.

it chose me.

[saspitite]

Broken Toy Mania

this is a little story i made about my silly flight rising pixel dragons and their lore! specifically centered around some of bloodmoney's background and how they became a flesh robot thing. tw for gore, body horror, some existentialism? i think? i dunno something like that. but it's pretty edgy lol

the end starts to get a bit weird as i just kinda wanted to experiment with the way i write lol, but yeah, have fun reading about sad robots!

(and yes, i did name this after the babuchan song, it's great)

BloodMoney made their way down the stairs, joints popping. God, I’m getting old, aren’t I?

Well, “old” is an understatement. The idiotic pacts they and Mabiya would make with foreign gods had corrupted Bloody’s memory to the point where they don’t even remember the date of their birth, or if they even had parents. What happened? What happened to an innocent passion project led by two best friends? What happened that fucked Bloody up so badly that they can’t even remember the past week of their life?

That’s why I’m putting an end to this.

 They stopped before a door covered in warning signs.

The concrete tunnels of Hotel Mabiya are deadly. It’s a fact everyone knows of. What nobody actually knows is that they and Mabiya were the cause of it. Being killed by the hands of something you’ve created has to be a sick twist of irony, doesn’t it?

Where should I go from here?

Pawpads touched cold, rough cement, and Bloody’s lungs soon became choked with the tunnels’ dust. Hardly anything could live down here. Hardly anything sane and sensible, that is. They cautiously took a few steps forward, eyes frantically scanning their surroundings. It seemed their natural survival instincts knew something was wrong and kicked in. Their heart pounded and their throat grew dry, slowly pushing Bloody to the realization that this was a horrible mistake. The exit’s gone. I’m lost. 

Their skin began to blister, possibly breaking out in hives, making them buckle to the ground in pain. Adrenaline wasn’t enough to satiate the agony, and as time ticked by, it only grew worse. Their blood burned through their veins, retaliating against the supposed flesh it was trapped inside. Had they gone insane? Did their body finally break down after all these years?

Then it clicked. 

Like an answer to an unholy prayer, Bloody began to hear a faint sound. Something akin to static or snowstorms, yet much more ominous… much more dreadful. Fighting the searing pain in their body, Bloody opened their eyes. Though their vision was growing worse by the second, they could faintly see a black-red figure nearing towards them, humming a faint tune.

Blood Hysteria.

Is this how I die? Devoured by a devil of bloodlust and greed? 

I’ve always hated you. I’ve always hated every word you’ve spoken to me.

If this is how I die…

Then…

…

Mechanical whirring. Chirping appliances. Panicked voices. Rushing faces. 

Is this death?

“Heart rate is steady,” a familiar voice spoke. “The brain is still getting oxygen.”

“What are we looking at?” asked another.

BloodMoney’s vision began to clear. They could finally recognize the scenery surrounding them. They were in the infirmary, with medics carefully watching over them.

“Some broken bones,” a blue-striped Coatl replied, “possible organ damage. Lots of internal bleeding.”

“‘Internal bleeding’?” Echoed a pink Sandsurge. “Isn’t that where it should be?”

All heads slowly turned to look at them.

“…Pinky,” the Coatl sighed. “You’re the reason I can’t sleep at night.”

A door swung open and a green figure stormed inside, stopping before the bed Bloody was sprawled across. 

“A-ah, hello,” a silver-pink Gaoler smiled, nervously bowing their head. “We retrieved them as soon as we could…”

The figure turned to the Coatl. “Dianya.”

“We’re doing our best,” he carefully began, “but it’s uncertain that BloodMoney will make it. We might need to…”

“Then do it,” she growled. “I don’t care what unholy ritual you must commit in order to keep them alive. Do it.”

Dianya quickly nodded. “Then it’ll be done. Santtalgi, get the other mechanics. They’re in the charging port.”

The Gaoler quickly left.

The Coatl had an odd smile on his face, as if he learned he’d be getting an extra present for his birthday. “Senzi, the anesthesia. They’re starting to wake up.”

A silver Coatl nodded and rushed for a tubed mask propped on a rack. 

“‘Morning, sunshine,” Dianya whispered, smirking down at BloodMoney. “How was your little play-date?”

Bloody couldn’t respond. A thick liquid gurgled in their throat.

“Your throat’s all shredded up,” he smiled. “But don’t worry. We’ll make you good as new.”

BloodMoney struggled against the constraints holding them down to the bed. Panicked, they stared at the green figure, silently pleading for an explanation.

“You might wanna leave for this, Mabiya,” Dianya warned her. “It’ll be quite a… messy operation to perform.”

She silently shook her head. Even with her face hidden under a mask, Bloody could feel the seething hate radiating through it. 

“Count to ten, Bloody,” Senzi whispered, gently placing the mask over their snout. She gave them a small, empathetic smile, as if to apologize for what she was doing.

The world began to spin around them, and the last thing they heard was the opening of a door.

Something about their body felt foreign. Their joints didn’t move the same. Their heart beat was a synthetic pulse. What have I become? What did they turn me into?

Am I alive?

Technicians surrounded their bed, watching with bated breath. 

BloodMoney forced their eyes open. Everything had changed. Colors, wavelengths, frequencies, definition, sharpness, things they couldn’t understand. I’m not looking with my eyes.

Every sound could be heard with painful detail.

I’m not living in my own body.

The taste of blood and plastic stained every orifice of their being. Hyper-aware of every atom they controlled. No sensation was truly felt without a synthetic haze spreading over it.

I

am

not

myself

“Hello again,” Dianya whispered, looming over them. His voice sounded like rusted knives grating through flesh. Senzi gave them a small wave. Her body is driven with suffering

The unholy garden’s snake. The one staring directly into their wire-choked soul. Mabiya. It knows what I’ve done.

“They might need to go through a reboot soon,” Dianya explained. “That’s usually the case with newly finished… organic experiments.”

BloodMoney managed to raise one of their arms. Fingers twitched with a metallic fervor, completely unrecognizable to them. What is this? Is this supposed to be my hand?

They sat up. Cords that were supposedly holding them down snapped, which sent the mechanics into a panic. That’s strange… they recognized their faces but knew nothing about the emotions expressed by them. 

“I need to see myself,” BloodMoney stated. This voice isn’t mine, either.

“You need to rest for a bit,” Senzi explained, “we’re still unsure about how stable your… body is, right now.”

It doesn’t matter. This is not my body

BloodMoney crawled off of the bed, mechanical joints whirring and screeching. They just needed to find a mirror. Everyone began yelling at them, trying to stop them, but it all just became noise. Scratching. Bleeding. Rust.

A couple doors down led them to a check-up room with a full-sized mirror. Perfect.

They were almost afraid to see what had become of them. I have to.

Sitting in front of the mirror

showed a hideous reflection

unlike any creature on Sornieth.

Wires pulsing with blood. Patches of rusting metal over rotting skin. Elongated limbs with spindly fingers. Aluminum organs underneath thin layers of peeling steel. A perversion of their true body. A repulsive amalgamation of flesh and metal.

This is not who I am. I can't live like this. I can't live. I can't die. I can’t do anything. 

So many years of my life, thrown away, to be trapped in a metal structure!

I’ve lost so much of myself, my appearance, my flesh, my mind, my sanity!

I’ve been given so much and can’t do anything with it!

It hurts. Everything hurts. But none of it is true. None of it is living pain.

I will never truly be myself again. I will never be anything more.

I can only rot now. Rot and rust.

Rot and rust

Rot and rust

Their body was suddenly grabbed.

#sas stories #original writing #my writing #flight rising #flight rising lore #hotel mabiya

[companionwolf]

Toy Soldiers Ch 5

The sun is rising, and the Commander is back in the city.

But I’m not alone this time, they think, gingerly brushing a hand against the front pant pocket they’ve tucked Central into as they climb through a broken front window of a shop.The glass cuts at their hands; they pause to wrap them in bandages, breaths heavy beneath the gas mask.

It’s a local grocery store, autumnal leaves blown in and scattered across dirty white tiles. The Commander treads lightly down the aisles, checking dates on cans, pocketing what looks remotely edible.

Does it ever annoy you?

Central’s voice in their head makes them start. “God, don’t scare me like that.” They shake their head, but it’s affectionate. “Anyway, what do you mean, ‘annoy’?”

Having to eat, he elaborates. Drink. Bathe. Relieve yourself. All those human things.

“It can be,” they admit, pawing through long rotted vegetables.

Central is quiet again then, as the Commander shimmies they way back out the broken front window. Then: I wish I could feel those things. Hunger. Cold. Even pain. Maybe I’d feel more like a person.

“Some people have trouble feeling them, and they’re still people,” says the Commander.

Right, but they’re still--

“You might not be human, but you’re a person, regardless of what you experience,” they say. They push open the door of another shop-- a toy shop this time, and their hands run over the stuffed animals, but they don’t actually stop until they reach the dolls.

“See any clothes you like?”

Feels weird to just…take it, Central says.

“I don’t think these ones are alive,” they say. “Are they?”

A sense of a head nodding no.

“I’m gonna take…this, and these, and that,” they say, grabbing a bed sized just bigger than Central, a tiny bookshelf, and a miniature couch, tucking them away into the backpack. “Just let me know if you see anything you want.”

They’re almost out of the doll aisle when Central says-- that one.

“Hm?”

The one with the little robot, he says. She’s alive in there.

The Commander’s gaze drifts to the end of the shelf. In a neat little box is a doll in a silly sci-fi looking uniform, with a little cubic robot miniature, hand painted with the name ROV-R. Her eyes stare up at them, and they give her a little wave, “Hi, there.” They press a hand to the box, but don’t pick up anything. “You’re sure she’s awake?”

I’m positive, Central says.

“OK, she can come home with us,” they say, taking the box in their hands as they sit and pull out a pocket knife. With a few swift cuts they’ve got the box open and gently pull the engineer out, smoothing down her hair. The robot miniature comes out a moment later.

The Commander tries again: “Hello?”

Nhh -- what? Who are--

“I’m your human,” says the Commander. From their pocket, Central laughs. You can’t just declare that, he says,

“But you said that to me,” they answer.

He laughs again. Because you are! But that’s a choice the object makes, not the other way around.

“Ohhh,” says the Commander.

They pull Central from their pocket, hold the two dolls a few inches from each other, looking sort of at each other and sort of at them. “I’m the Commander, and this is Central.”

Hey, Commander, says the engineer. Hi, Central. I’m Shen. The toy pauses. There haven't been many customers here for a long time. Did something happen? I fell asleep after so long…

“Yeah, uh, a lot’s happened,” the Commander says.

Aliens, Central summarizes, and transmits a scowl.

Ah, says Shen. Aliens.

“...Do you know what an alien is?”

I think so, she answers. Space people, right?

The Commander nods. “We’re bringing you back home-- you cool with that?”

Shen considers for a moment. Yeah, she says finally, I’m cool with that.

Later, when they’re leaving a yarn shop, the Commander trips, loses their gas mask in the fall, bashes their face against the concrete. And for just a moment, they forget--

“Shit!”

The sound echoes off the empty buildings, and they realize what they;ve done only after the word has burst from their lips.

To their credit, Central and Shen also yelp, but the zombies can't hear the dolls; it doesn't matter if they scream. The human staggers to their feet, hurriedly picks up and puts the gas mask back on, swallows and tastes blood. There’s rustling in the shadows, and then--

The horde is upon them, and the Commander runs.

They run, cutting through back alleys, clambering over cars, but the swarm behind them just seems to get bigger and bigger, and faster, too. They’re panting beneath the mask, sweat in their eyes, wishing they’d brought a weapon, cursing that they didn’t.

They’ve gotten complacent, relaxed-- too much so, to stop bringing a weapon during these city runs. They have an old gun that they managed to scavenge from somewhere a while ago, but they don’t usually carry it around. They’d gotten so used to not needing one, to being so careful that the zombies never noticed them anyway.

You’re almost there!

How many of these damn things are there?

“Too many,” huffs the Commander from under the mask as they barrel around a corner. The dashers behind them don’t let up, and there's nothing but the side of an apartment ahead of them. They frantically glance up and down at the building, looking for a way out or over or--

Over the fence? offers Central.

“Fuck it, sure,” they say, and heave their way up the chain link, feels the backs of their heels kick against the head of a zombie as they throw themeleves over, landing hard on the pavement.

They lay there for a minute, catching their breath, ignoring Central’s panicked voice in their head.

“Give me a minute,” they manage to pant.

After what feels like an eternity, the Commander hefts to their feet and continues on.

#wolf barking #tailstrokes #toy soldiers fic

[petersfuentes19]

Niche Marketing On Crack - Does Niche Marketing On Crack Really The Job?

Ah, resolutions. We enjoy set them. Perhaps it's New Year's, when millions persons promise to shed pounds, to enjoy shape, to quit smoking, to remake ourselves into acceptable that we know is hiding inside us needing only some willpower to see it out. Just as winter causes extreme conditions, so does summer. Concrete baked during the summer sun will expand and subsequently drop down again as night falls. Similar to with moisture, yearly applying of an honest acrylic silicone solvent based sealer to the concrete might guard against cracks. The cracks may be repaired by epoxy injection, dry packing or routing and sealing techniques to stabilize the cracks. If acronis true image keygen is not water will enter the basement along with the cove joint, which is where the wall and floor meet. Fit pump is working properly then the next most common cause of basement water is the seeping through a crack or cracks previously wall. The common places acquire crack come in the middle of long walls or underneath windows os. If the basement is finished proof the crack can be located on the outer layer top of your foundation. Discovering it outside will reduce what amount drywall will have to be removed within the. His call schedule is often a strong tool he wants you. If he calls often figure out you and sparks a real conversation on top of the phone, then he's probably interested to let a relationship develop. If he calls infrequently as well as doesn't have much to say, you'd better search elsewhere and ignore his few calls. Many crackheads relapse after treatment basically because return to the lives we were living before entering the treatment plan. The allure of crack is too irresistible to withstand on your special. Even if the halfway house is modest, it may still allow you to stay clean. If you've got the opportunity visit one, don't make the error of thinking you don't require it. Promotion - finally a person learn easy methods to drive traffic to your niche sites. You will learn both conventional and advanced methods of driving targeted prospects such as article writing, backlinks, social bookmarking, feeder websites additional methods. There isn't really problem by using a woman setting the dates but he needs to put in his share and you out again. acronis true image crack serial number needs help to make it a genuine effort to pick a place and time with serious thought. Discover how sunlight way to hack a code to the provider he wants for a relationship is letting him make a lot of the effort. You will know quickly true want but to see what he wants, watch his habits. If you wish to crack those entrance, natural and organic to solve previous year question newspapers. It may help you realize your weaknesses are the actual your strengths are. However in my opinion, you should not do study hard for a book soft. You should gather useful information and data for learn about. You can also make notes of a person read and revise those notes time to time. If you really need to get admission in top medical colleges, you want to do more focus on practical knowledge instead of bookish stuff. acronis true image download free should face your Medical Entrance Exams with an effectively prepared your mind. In other words, you can quickly crack the medical entrance exams discover admission in best medical colleges of India, when prepare it in well manner.

#ACRONIS TRUE IMAGE

[rayshippouuchiha]

HELL YEAH I LOVE THIS SUIKAWARI MY HEART THING SHOUTA'S SO T H I R S T Y ok real talk deku absolutely knows who eraserhead is right??? hes an eraserhead fan right???????

"These seem kind of ...short," Izuku can't help but point out, hands coming down to tug futilely at the swim shorts that had somehow replaced his standard blue and yellow Mighty Swim Shorts(TM) he's had for years now. "And tight."

"As god Herself intended," Hitoshi mutters from where he's laid out on the concrete of the changing room floor. "Praise be to Yaomomo."

"Praise be," Izuku automatically echoes out of longstanding habit.

A beat of silence passes between them

"You know that floor is beyond filthy, right?" Izuku can't help but ask.

Hitoshi just peels one bleary eye open and stares up at Izuku silently.

"Fair enough," Izuku agrees as he goes back to fussing with his shorts.

"You nervous?" Hitoshi asks a few seconds later.

"Yeah," Izuku admits sheepishly. "Seems kind of dumb huh? Being so nervous over a charity event like this? But ... what if I look stupid?"

"Not possible," Hitoshi immediately denies.

Izuku loves his friend so much. Getting arrested together with Hitoshi at a rally really was the best thing to happen to him in a long time.

"Very possible," Izuku counters. "Highly probably in fact. Everyone else participating is super cool with super cool moves, with or without their quirk being involved. I'm just ... me."

"Look," Hitoshi says as he eels his way across the floor until he's laying right beside where Izuku's standing. "Just go out there and do exactly what you did at practice. Trust me, it'll go perfectly. Especially since Todoroki's not here to catch the vapors or the drapes on fire."

"Still don't know why the entire group had to come to that practice," Izuku grumbles just a bit. "Or why Momo had to host it. Or why Uraraka recorded it."

"Kirby's making mint by now," Hitoshi mumbles under his breath.

"What?" Izuku asks.

"Nothing," Hitoshi waves his question off lazily as he finally rolls over and pushes himself up onto his feet.

He throws an arm over Izuku's shoulder and rests his sharp chin on the crown of Izuku's head.

"Like I said before," Hitoshi reaches his hand up to poke at Izuku's cheek, "just go out there and be your regular sunshine broccoli self and do what you did at practice night. You've got this."

And by this point all Izuku can do is believe him.

~~~

Crate of watermelons firmly in hand, Izuku bounces just a bit on his toes and focuses on taking deep breaths of fresh ocean air.

Dagobah Beach is still as beautiful now as it was all those years ago when he cleaned it for Toshi-sensei at the start of his apprenticeship.

On the other side of the small, curtained off backstage area the crowd that's gathered is going wild.

Honestly, Izuku would rather be out there watching the Miruko crush watermelons than here waiting for his own turn to go on stage.

But, eventually, is turn does actually come.

"...the showstopper himself, the one, the only, the #1 Can Do Hero Dekiru."

Present Mic's announcement ringing in his ears, Izuku takes one last deep breath, does his best to smile, and moves out into view.

The crowd is deafening and Izuku has to admit that it always makes him feel more than a bit awestruck to have so many people cheering for him. Especially over something that's more than a bit silly even if it's for a collection of good causes.

He shoots the crowd a small wave as he sets his crate down.

"Show us what you've got!" Present Mic demands from somewhere to Izuku's right. "And let's give him some encouragement listeners!"

The crowd begins to chant "De~ki~ru!" and Izuku picks up his first watermelon, determined to follow Hitoshi's advice.

The first and second melons break easily enough, just as they had at practice, but the crowd seems happy.

So Izuku moves onto his third pose, the one that the others had made him repeat a handful of times a few nights ago.

A flex of his thighs and a twist of his hips and his lap's covered in sweet pink flesh and sticky juice.

"Oh god," a voice, low and husky, cuts across the crowd, "I wish that was me right now."

Even as the crowd goes abruptly silent Izuku's attention immediately zeroes in on the source.

He immediately feels his entire soul leave his body.

Because standing there beside Present Mic, arms crossed over his chest and face blank, is Eraserhead.

The Eraserhead.

The same Underground Hero Izuku's been a huge fan of since the moment he found out he existed. The notorious hell teacher of UA whose very name sends shivers of fear down the majority of his friend group's spine.

The same Eraserhead who was Hitoshi's mentor.

And who Izuku may or may not have a strange, second-hand sort of not-crush on.

In his defense, Hitoshi's stories about his mentor are always highly entertaining to Izuku. And what he's learned about Eraserhead through his friend just makes Izuku think the man is someone he'd really like to get to know.

Which is what makes being here, topless, covered in watermelon juice, and with an actual audience to witness the semi-sexual remark Eraserhead had just made about him, a special kind of torture.

Because Izuku's never admitted it to anyone, and especially not Hitoshi, but Eraserhead lines up pretty closely with what Izuku would consider his type.

The man understands heroics, and according to his capture and expulsion rate and Hitoshi himself, has a lot of personal dedication and drive. The stories Hitoshi tells about him show he's got a soft streak he keeps well hidden and he's intimidatingly smart.

Plus he's tall, has hair that Izuku admits he wouldn't mind getting his hands tangled in, and looks like he'd be mean in all the right circumstances.

All of that is probably why Izuku finds himself speaking without really giving himself permission to open his mouth.

"Ah," Izuku hears himself say, "maybe we could go on a date first though? If you'd like?"

For a long moment it's so quiet Izuku's pretty sure he can hear himself dying cell by mortified cell.

Eraserhead's face somehow manages to go even blanker.

And then, he smiles.

'Oh wow,' Izuku can't help but marvel as he takes in the expression he's seen palely echoed on Hitoshi's face a million times, 'that's ... unexpectedly attractive.'

He can feel even more heat rush to his face in response as he chews nervously on his lower lip.

"Hope you like coffee," Eraserhead finally says, "and cats."

And Izuku can't help but grin because yes, yes he does.

But he's pretty sure he's going to end up liking Eraserhead even more than all of those put together.

~~~

"Hell is empty," Hitoshi intones when Izuku finally manages to get free of the semi-rioting crowd so he can rush back into the changing room to clean himself up. "All the devils are right fucking here."

Izuku stalls out for a moment, unsure of what, exactly, he's supposed to say to that.

"You've got a date with Eraserhead," Hitoshi plows on.

The expression on his face is caught somewhere between gleeful and absolutely unhinged.

"Yeah," Izuku can't help the grin that steals across his face as he wipes himself down. "Or at least I hope he was serious."

"Oh he was serious," Hitoshi reassures him. "As serious as the heart-attacks basically everyone we know have probably collectively had."

"Do you think he's gonna like me?" Izuku can't help but fret just a bit.

"He's gonna marry you," Hitoshi snips back. "And we're all gonna suffer. Thank the gods you won't be breeding at least. Whatever the both of you are ends with you."

"That's kind of a quick jump to make but quirk science has come a long way," Izuku says absently as he pulls his shirt over his head. "Most couplings are genetically possible these days you know?"

"That was not a challenge," Hitoshi hisses, horror overtaking his expression. "I swear to god Izuku do not spawn with Eraserhead."

Izuku just waves him off as he trots back towards the door to the changing room.

He has an Eraserhead to track down and, hopefully, date plans to iron out.

#RayRambles #Suikawari My Heart AU #BnHA #AiDeku #EraserDeku