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erospandemos · 10 months

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I just can't help it

Yandere Chaewon x Reader

Part 1

“The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much, and forgetting that you are special too.”

― Ernest Hemingway, Men Without Women

What you’re about to read is a confession to you. An apology, if you prefer to call it that, as I’ve professed my love to you plenty of times—although it won’t ever be enough—and you’re at the knowledge of every crime I’ve committed since we met.

My Korean teacher repeatedly reiterated the lack of clarity in my essays and oral exams. I’m not good with words, you see. That’s why I thought that letting you know about the events in my life that shaped me and the feelings that followed me throughout these months would make you understand me better.

I know our conversations weren’t as deep as you probably expected. I’ve tried to explain myself to the best of my abilities and even if it was a mess you seemed to make out that flurry of words and comfort me. Sometimes, I truly thought you understood me more than I did.

It’s true that we always talked in riddles and puzzles but it made more sense that way. Because our—my—love was pure madness and somehow the riddles explained it better than we ever could.

The lack of sleep shouldn’t have affected my mind too much, at least in the part that’s in charge of writing.

If you’re reading this, I hope you understand. Sorry if I’m rambling a lot, and sorry if I will ramble more in the following pages. Right, sorry if I’m apologizing a lot—you told me not to do that. I just can’t help it.

I was tortured since the age of 6 when I started going to elementary school, that’s as far as I can remember. You could also say I was “bullied”, it’s what the adults like to call it, but it’s the same thing. People get defensive, almost offended when I use the other term. “Wow,” was a common reaction, “that’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?” I didn’t think it was extreme.

When I so naively asked my teacher the difference between the two words, she chuckled and looked at me as if I asked her what the difference between hot and cold was. Surprise was another clear feeling I could read from her expression. She asked me how I knew those words. I simply said I heard them from outside and she told me to forget them.

That evening, when I came home, I took the chair from my mother’s desk and put it next to the bookshelf, I climbed it and looked at the books on the top shelf. They were the books she used the least and between them, sitting all dusty and forgotten, was also the dictionary.

I blew and rubbed the dust away then I looked for the two words. I read the two definitions closely and more than one time but I still didn’t understand. They were the same.

I didn’t ask my teacher anything else. My teacher was clearly against explaining them to me.

But I was sure, I knew those two words extremely well because I felt them on my skin.

I wanted to be an idol. I told everyone in my class because I thought it was a normal dream—we all watched idols on TV in the afternoon—and being an astronaut seemed a lot harder. Apparently, it wasn’t. Because I wanted to perform on a stage, I was “pretentious”, “narcissistic”, an “attention-seeker”, and a “whore”. I didn’t know what they meant and thought they were compliments and they etched those words into my skin.

I later found their definitions in the dictionary and understood what they were saying.

I wasn’t the only girl who wanted to be an idol. Hayoon, a classmate of mine, dreamt of testing for JYP, SM, YG, and all those big companies. She took dance and singing classes, they were both in group and private. She could afford it because her family was very rich. From what I heard in the classroom, she started training when she was just a little girl because her parents saw her dancing in front of the TV during an episode of Inkigayo.

Surprisingly, Hayoon was never shamed. Because she was “humble” and had “her feet on the ground”. She was loved by everyone and was the most favored prospect for the role of an idol, everyone seemed to believe in her dream. She was confident, danced well, and was beautiful. All the girls went to her house at least twice a month to go to her huge pool, splendid garden, and majestic house. I never went, I was never invited.

She was good at everything and topped all subjects. However, I sang better than her. In music classes and festivals, I was always chosen and often took the roles instead of her. When she realized she wasn’t the best, she became embarrassed and frustrated.

She didn’t have any way of making me sing worse and neither could sing better than me, even after all those expensive lessons, so she took to poking fun at me to try and drag me down. Of course her friends joined as well. They were always calling me "ugly", "weird", and "gross" in a way that didn’t seem childish or playful, but demeaning and insulting.

The other kids constantly berated me between classes, glued my books to the desk, slapped me and then ran away. They knew all the spots where there was no CCTV in the school. They even stole my brand-new headphones and glued my shoestrings to my shoes when I didn’t see them. We wore slippers and my shoes were in my locker.

My teachers never helped me. I’ve tried telling them and they didn’t believe me, or rather, they chose not to believe me because that was easier for them.

Only a girl had the courage to help me, it only took one word and two days to have everyone against her. “Stop,” she only said that and then everyone hated her. You never go against the group, you never try to make yourself different, you never try to fight back.

In the end, I understood the difference between torture and bullying: one was for hurting and one was for fun.

During middle school, the bullying stepped up a notch. Some of my classmates went to my same middle school, they had many friends there and the rumors spread like wildfire. Many of the students liked to take their stress out by bullying other students. They were pathetic and talentless, they hated anyone who had potential unless they provided them anything, like Hayoon.

Smoking was illegal. But they didn’t care. They found all the corners of the school where the CCTV didn’t see them and studied where the professors usually walked to avoid their path. It wasn’t always perfect and sometimes they were caught but it sure helped them and the bullies.

One day, I was dragged by my hair behind the basketball court and after getting pushed to the ground, the girls started slapping, laughing, and kicking me. The smoke from their cigarettes and the kicks to my belly and back took the air out of me. I couldn’t breathe and I thought I was going to die. They were experienced—they noticed my lack of breath, gave me breaks to catch it, and started kicking me again.

They were caught by a teacher who forgot his bag. They claimed they were only giving me “birthday punches” and didn’t admit anything, nor apologized. They weren’t stupid either. The girls had a very good reputation and a good student persona, essentially they didn’t have any criminal records.

When I was asked what happened, I was ready to tell them all the atrocities that took place in school. But then, I remembered the girls’ eyes. I looked at the professor and I knew, right there and then, that he didn’t believe me, even before I said anything. They wouldn’t have done anything but the word would have been out, that I snitched on the bullies and then I wouldn’t have survived.

So I stayed silent.

The girls only got punished for smoking after they explained they only wanted to try and continued to do it anyway.

Between the end of middle school and the start of high school, the bullies got more creative. They tied me up and broke my legs with a crowbar. The older the girls got, the more of them wanted to be idols, and the first thing they had to do was to get rid of the competition. They succeeded as I stopped dancing altogether since that day.

I continued singing but nobody wants to see an idol in a wheelchair, right?

After I couldn’t walk normally anymore, they started treating me like a rag. They used me to clean the bathroom, by pushing me around on the floor, putting my face against the toilet, and mopping me with dirty water. I was like a toy to them and their friends joined the fun.

Part 2

It was no wonder that many bullied students leave the school. Sometimes, they leave on their own, because they can’t stand the torture anymore, other times, the school removes them. The bullies only bully others because they can and they know they can get away with it: they have influential parents or come from wealthy families, so the school can only quietly get rid of the problem and those are the victims that can’t stay quiet.

The class in my department didn’t have many students but it was enough: 20 students. During the year, 5 students left, and at the end of the year, 2 others were sent to another school in the province. The remaining 13 weren’t enough to be left alone in the classroom so they joined us with a class from another department that also lost many students. In total, we were 31, which was a big number but they didn’t have any other choice.

You were one of those students. I only noticed you after a week because I got used to keeping my eyes low not to anger any of my classmates. You sat beside me. People usually tend to avoid me since they could also become victims of the bullies but you knew it and it was your decision.

“Is this seat taken?” you asked me. When I heard your voice, I had a moment of hesitation. I kept staring at the wooden desk but then I thought that you might have accused me of being rude for ignoring you and that would have been a good enough reason to pick on me, so I raised my eyes.

“No, it isn’t,” I replied. Your eyes were cold. I genuinely thought you were a bully too.

“Then, can I seat here?”

“You can if you want…” I told you, unsure. “But I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What? You fart a lot?”

I was taken aback. “No! I don’t.”

“I suppose it’s fine then,” you said and took the chair out to take your desk. You started getting ready for the lesson and didn’t seem to have any intention of doing anything to me. Every time someone spoke to me, it was to make a comment, make a joke, or give me an order. Still, I was suspicious of you.

The lesson proceeded as usual. You took your notes very diligently, writing almost everything the teacher said, making graphs and small summaries to keep your memory fresh. If you were to tell me you were the top student in your class, I would have believed it and later I’d find out you really were.

Your behavior wasn’t the one of a bully. And it wasn’t the behavior of a bullied either.

At the end of the last lesson before the lunch break, the teacher gave us surveys for our future career choices. I stared at the paper with a pen in my hand. What should I write? My future, my future was stolen from me. My dream was as meaningful as an ant’s life. After everything they did and said to me, a miserable life of insignificance and sadness sounded perfectly fit for me. I kept wondering and pondering until you turned to me.

“What do you want to do when you grow up, Chaewon?” you asked me while you were lazily spinning your pen between your fingers.

“I- I don’t know, what about you?” I stuttered. I couldn’t bring myself up to pronounce those words. I felt as if I had been banished from even muttering them and thinking about it only brought me horrible memories.

“Web security,” you said. “I go around and check companies’ safety in their servers and sites. I’ve already started an internship so I’m sure it’s what I’m going to do.”

“An internship? This early?”

“Yeah, I figured the more experience I get, the better. I got nothing better to do anyways.”

“Don’t you have any hobbies? Don’t you hang out with your… friends?”

“I don’t have that many friends, to be honest,” you replied nonchalantly. “I mean, I do go out like once every three months so it isn’t a lot but I still have friends I can talk to. I’ve never been good with people, I guess.”

“Ah, is that so?”

“I was always better on my own. I tried a lot of stuff and I liked web stuff better,” then you turned to me for a second time, looking at me more intensely than before, “but you didn’t answer my question yet. What do you wanna do?”

Being put on the spot like that, I wasn’t sure about what I was allowed to say. More than that, I didn’t know what I really wanted, if the dust of my once desire was still in me if my heart wasn’t dead cold. However, after all these years, a subtle string of fate kept me going and it was still something that I liked doing.

I looked at your eyes. They didn’t scare me.

“I want to be… an idol,” I said in a single breath. After I finished the sentence, a heavy feeling of guilt dawned on me. I felt as if I just committed a crime and I was in danger.

But you didn’t judge me.

“An idol, huh?” You laid back on your chair. “That’s pretty cool. I know it’s very hard if you really want to do it, props to you. It takes some guts to train for that stuff. To dance all day, to have everyone look at you, it’s something.”

“Do- do you think I can do it?”

“I don’t know, you tell me. I don’t know how well you dance, or how good you sing, or even what you tested for.”

“But is it a possible dream?”

“You can watch idols too, right? They had the same dream as you did. They did it. I think it’s possible, yeah. And I think you can do it, Chaewon.”

When you said that, I felt so relieved. It was comforting. Finally, I found someone that didn’t hate me, that didn’t shame and believed in me.

Just as you stopped talking, the bell rang. It was the time.

“Oh, look at her, ms. Idol,” said Yejun and pushed my head away for fun. He started laughing.

“Hands off, Yejun. And go away before I sock you in the face,” you said.

“I’m so scared, oh my god,” he laughed. “What do you think you’ll do huh? Do you want to protect this filthy rag? How generous,” he said and then slapped me.

“That’s enough, fuckface,” you got up and stared into his eyes. “That’s the last warning. Leave before I do something I might regret.”

He scoffed. “Really, you talk a lot. Don’t forget that you work for my father.”

“I don’t think you get it, Yejun. I don’t just work for your father. He depends on me. One click and his whole 20 servers will blow up. Do you really think that incompetent fool of your father fixed all the problems? He doesn’t know shit about his stuff, he only knows how to count money and scam his workers. There are so many weaknesses I could just hack the whole thing and change your company to my name.”

“You aren’t funny.”

“I wasn’t trying to be. Now, that I’ve seen who this rag of yours is, tell your friends to keep their hands off her. I don’t want to see your father come back and beg at me and he’ll know it was all your fault. Everyone listens to you apparently, so spread the word. I won’t hesitate.”

Yejun stormed out of the class in anger.

I felt like I was reborn, that I finally found my savior. You were the angel I needed and you came to save me from this hell.

“I don’t like this place, let’s get out of here,” you said and I followed you.

We went to grab lunch but right behind the vending machines you got attacked. He called you a nerd, whatever he did, but I couldn’t stand it. I felt a force in me and I grabbed his neck, I squeezed until he couldn’t breathe anymore.

I’ll be honest, if it wasn’t for you trying to get me off, I would have killed him.

Just as that guy run off, you freaked out. I didn’t blame you. Still, you took my arm and pulled me to somewhere more covered to talk to me, scared that someone else might have seen it. I could see the surprise in your eyes, but you didn’t look terrified, you were concerned if anything.

Your hand was still bleeding, the red liquid dripped to the floor. I stared at the droplets, slowly coloring the grey concrete, as if it was the ticking of a clock. At each tick, I was getting more impatient, there was something inside me that wanted to jump out, run after who hurt you, and make him pay for it. But I had to calm down, you were in front of me.

“Chaewon, what the hell!” you whisper-shouted while repeatedly glancing behind your back and into the hallway. “Where did that come from?”

“I-I don’t know what happened,” I stuttered. I was saying the truth—at the time, I truly didn’t know why I reacted in the way I did. I never raised my hands, I never talked back, I never reacted.

“Shit, I’m bleeding a lot,” you cursed. You gritted your teeth and started walking towards the school clinic. I followed you.

You talked to me as we were walking. “You don’t just choke people randomly, you know?”

“I- I really swear! I pro-promise… I have no idea what happened!”

“Listen, Chaewon, I saw you pinning his neck against the wall. You raised a senior with one hand.”

When we were in front of the nurse's office, you pinched your nose and waved your hand to stop me from talking. The cuff of your white shirt was stained with red, it already spread so much in just a short time. You must have been in pain. My blood was boiling.

“You can explain yourself later,” you said and opened the door. “I have to close this wound first.”

I followed you into the room. For some reason, the room was empty, there was no trace of the nurse and it looked like she hasn’t been there for a long time as everything was very tidy and the coat hanger was empty. Often, when people can avoid work, they’ll do it. The nurse must have seen that there was no one needing her in the morning and decided to leave for some coffee.

You sat on one of the beds, keeping your arm stretched out so the blood wouldn’t stain the sheets and with another hand, you searched into the cabinet for something you could help yourself with. You took out bandaids, alcohol, gauze and cotton buds. You really made a mess, trying to pour the alcohol on your arm and spilling half of the content on the floor.

After sloppily cleaning yourself with cotton, you got the bandaids.

“Do you really think bandaids will do?” I asked you. “It’s way too deep.”

“Is there any other way?”

“Yeah, we have to put stitches on you.” I took the chairs from the desk and sat in front of you. In the cabinet beside the bed, there were also needles and thread for that procedure. Luckily there was an anesthetic as well.

I put on gloves. I cleaned your wound again, better than you did before, and applied the anesthetic gel. It took about two minutes to take effect, in the meanwhile I prepared the rest of the equipment I needed: forceps, curved needle, and new thread.

When I was sure you didn’t feel anything, I started stitching your wound.

“How did you learn this?” you asked me so curiously.

“I… I got used to taking care of myself,” I said softly. It was embarrassing. You nodded. I could feel your eyes scan me, looking at all my bruises, the bandaids on my face, and many more wounds underneath my shirt.

You sighed. “I’m sorry. I hope they won’t attack you anymore. Always stay with me, they are scared of people who have a known name.”

“Thank you, but I don’t think it will do anything.”

“Just do as I say,” you repeated. I could see how sure you were from your face. You definitely didn’t see, as my face was facing the floor, but I smiled for the first time after you said that. Your desire of protecting me was honest. I was really happy that you cared for me.

When I came home, I had the time to think through what happened that day. As I was drinking a cup of water, I looked at myself in the reflection of the window, my fingers tracing my wounds and bruises, itching the dried blood on my nails. Where did that strength come from? I could have sworn they had taken every ounce of energy from me, I knew I had no will, no ambition, no desire to even talk back until today. And yet, I hurt him.

I felt good. It didn’t feel good to hurt him per se but to know I defended you. As to him, I should have killed him. But you stopped me. You shouldn’t have done that. He hurt you. That shabby gross fool tried to hurt you, how could he?!

I was so lucky to have caught you before it was late. I couldn’t imagine what would have happened to you if he succeeded—the bruises on your face, the blood on your face—you would have looked just like me. No, I couldn’t stand that. You didn’t deserve to go through the pain that I did, not after you defended me. Oh, if only I could lay my hand on those sinners, the pain I could inflict them, all the experiences that I felt inside my skin, into my very flesh.

I want to hear them scream. To beg for forgiveness. To regret their very existence. I want them to apologize to you, to offer their life…

Crack

I looked down at my hands. What a mess. I completely shattered the cup I was holding—bits of sharp glass everywhere, even some into my skin. The veins of my hand were bulging, I could feel the blood in my body flowing so fast and forcefully. The adrenaline was high in my brain.

I didn’t realize what I did until I heard the sudden noise.

It was true, just as you said. It wasn’t me. But why? This must have happened because I was thinking of you getting hurt… yes, it was your thought, just you. It was because of you. I didn’t want to see you hurt, you were my only hope in this world, just the thought sent a shock through my spine and into my head, and I would go crazy.

You made me like this.

Completely insane.

“Chaewon! What happened?” I heard Yujin calling me and I turned around to see her rushing out the hallway. Yujin was my roommate, we shared the rent because it was cheaper that way. She wasn’t a bad person, not at all. But she couldn’t understand my life, she lived between rich girls and handsome guys.

To be kind, you need to know what misery is. She was just nice.

“Oh, Kirin-chan,” I said.

“How did you break your glass?” she asked worryingly, grabbing a towel to clean my bloody hand of the bits of glass.

“My bad, I was standing up and it just slipped out of my hand.”

“Then how did it get all over your palm?”

“I slipped and fell right onto it, you know how clumsy I am.”

“Yeah,” she commented without much belief, “just like all the time you come home with bruises on your face.”

“It isn’t my fault if they don’t put warnings after cleaning the stairs.”

“It isn’t your fault,” she repeated. “Anyways, don’t forget to clean it up, I’ll go back to studying,” she ended, turning around and leaving the lounge to return to her prettier room.

I continued to stare at my hand.

I couldn’t help but think about you again… my head got foggy… my thoughts haunting…

What if they scarred you?

What if they bullied you?

What if girls broke your heart?

What if you were friends with the wrong people?

I knew I was crossing a line when those questions took form but it was too late and I didn’t even care anymore. It was a promise I made myself, to protect who I loved, and I swore I wouldn’t fail again. I would protect you forever, no matter what.

I feared that you’d run away from me but instead, we got way closer than before. When I walked into school the day after the incident, I was genuinely scared I wouldn’t have seen you—that you had stayed at home, that you changed class or even school. What worried me the most was the fact that you could have been scared of me.

I waited for you anxiously. I kept scratching my nails, rubbing my arms, looking around for you. So many times I got up and walked around the paths outside the school where I thought you’d usually walk, even if I didn’t know well what were your habits, and not finding you, I’d sit back at the wall and wait again.

After several minutes, you arrived at school. At the sight of you, my dizziness and worries faded away. I immediately ran at you and hugged you so tight, you had to know how much I missed you.

You were surprised, of course, you were. “Huh? What has gotten into you Chaewon?” you laughed jokingly.

“I just thought you wouldn’t come to school anymore,” I told you.

“Why would I do that? Today is a school day.”

“It’s okay, that’s perfect. I’m just so glad I can see you again.”

Part 3

The door opened to the locker room and I and the other trainees entered sitting down. They changed their clothes from casual streetwear to old clothes and gym wear. I’ve been training for a bit now, I got to know all the trainees well, there were a lot before but now they only remained half. The one that finished first started stretching. "It's one minute and a half. Let's do this," she sighed.

One of them threw to the other a white sheet with a name written on it and did the same with the others. "Here. Your name tags."

"That's it? Just a minute?" the girl chuckled.

"A minute and a half. Everyone does their part and it's a difficult choreography, don't you forget. It will be enough."

"It's for evaluation. Don't forget every detail counts," another girl added.

We went out of the room and made our way toward the practice room, each one with a name tag on it. The corridor leading to it was cold, probably because they just changed from thick to thin clothes, but it got hotter towards the end where the air got denser. One at a time, they entered bowing at the line of men sitting on the right of the mirror in front of the door.

Everyone had papers and a pen and a serious look plastered on their faces. After a couple of stretches, the girls got into position and the music started. They smiled and danced with their full capability and the judges looked sharp. When the music stopped they held their ending pose and went in a line waiting for their words. The air suddenly felt cold.

"There had been improvements on what we said the first time. But we can also fix others," the first said and the men nodded. They wrote on the paper and scribbled.

"You. When the others did their move you were coordinated and that's fine but you did it wrong. You need to raise your hand higher," he said making the move himself and the girl followed.

"Can you do the move a bit before the ending?" another one asked, gesturing his intention. "Yes, that one. Please get into the position and do it."

They did and when it came to the next section he spoke again, "One more time."

"Once more."

"Five...six.. seven... eight... an-"

"Okay," he said and got up walking to the center of the room. He demonstrated the move more and more times. "Don't tense your muscles too much when you do this alright?"

"But," the oldest got up, "you were all a lot better today, good job. Specially Soojin and Gaeul."

"That's it, goodbye," they said.

"Thank you!" the girls answered together.

BLAM. The oldest almost slips as he got out and the others held him up. The girls let out a muffled laugh, their mouths covered with their hands."See girls, don't tense your muscles too much or they won't work properly," the man chuckled. The judges left fast, embarrassed by their eldest and the group laughed in relief.

"Are we really doing this? They are not saying anything anymore."

The youngest looked at them from the ground, laid down breathing hard, and said, "We're close to debuting."

When everyone was done with their stuff and cleaned themselves they left. Almost all of them ran out to catch the last bus of the day or were just in a hurry. I, on the other hand, had to walk home so I did everything slower. When I got out, in the distance, I heard a group of girls around my age shouting and laughing. When they got closer, I realized they were my classmates, there were about four of them and they were drunk.

They noticed me.

"Look at you. It's late, pretty girls like you shouldn't stay out," one of them said and I frowned.

"Don't tell me. You were practicing?" she said laughing. The other three got in a semi-circle in front of me.

"It's a really difficult life isn't it, miss idol? Everybody wants you and you're here dancing until late," she mocked me, with her fingers under her eyes faking tears, and let out a hearty laugh. The choir followed with a carol of joy.

"It's sad really," she continued, "so popular but so tired."

She pushed me down on the ground and the group stepped back making more space for the two. She forcefully pulled my hair, forcing me to get up. The girl got closer and said, "And you're so pretty. It would be a shame if anything happened to this pretty face."

She slapped me. They laughed. They kicked me. I tried to defend myself, curling into a fetus position and protecting my head. They snickered as they continued wasting the effects of the alcohol on me. When they were finally satisfied, they got up and left me there on the side of the road and went away to the opposite way of where they came from.

I remained on the ground with tears on her face and sobbed trying not to make any noise, I wanted silence. However I heard their voices again, from the distance, and they were screaming.

"What do you think you're doing?!" the same girl as before squealed."We're girls, you think you can-." The group gasped.

"You're five and I'm one and you just beat that girl up. You think I care?" It was a male voice.

The girls ran away but the guy didn't try to chase them and walked to me.

"There's a convenience store nearby, we can get something cold for your face," he said with a soft tone. I recognized the voice and looked at him, I recognized his face too. It was you. My legs trembled a little as I held myself upon your shoulder for support. "It's fine, take your time," you said dusting my back.

At the shop, you bought a bag of frozen peas so I could put it on my face where it still hurts. "I ate those for dinner, they're great. I can use them for everything, look, you're using them too now," you said and I laughed. I calmed down a little and your face got more serious and worried.

"I told you. Starting from tomorrow I'll bring you home," you said.

"But it was only this time," I said.

"And the other four before."

"Kind of."

"Being there by 11:30 should be good."

"But you should sleep."

"I would just be studying, and either way, it's way better to have your company," you insisted, leaning down on the chair. A small smile formed on my face. Ever since that day, the two always walked home late at night even when it was freezing or when it was raining. We got way closer.

You grew up so well. Unfortunately, many girls seemed to notice you and fall for you. I don’t blame them, you were very charming, so attractive for such a young student but I couldn’t let them near you. They were fools, too stupid to realize they were nowhere close to your level, you were levels above and they were just insects. I had to make sure no one bothered you, to avoid you crying because some worthless bitch broke your heart.

I was surprised when you told me you got asked out. But then I felt my chest burn.

There’s only one thing that I can’t stand in this world and that’s people who think they can take what’s mine. I don’t care about gossip, jealousy or envy, I don’t have anyone to compete with, I just want what’s mine. And you are mine.

It was so easy to scare them away. All it took was a quick talk behind the school, a very convincing speech, a cutter to their throats…

They were scared of me. Good. You didn’t suspect anything—they’d still smile at me as if nothing happened, I made sure to tell them. I couldn’t let you know, to worry more than you already were.

The bullying had completely stopped towards me because you were always by my side defending me and eventually they all got the message. If you were just a crush before, now I love you. If I loved you, now I worship you. You’re my religion, my god, my purpose. I’ll kill for you, live for you, and I’ll love you forever. Wherever you go, I’ll follow you. Whether that’s heaven, hell, or any other world. My very existence is embroidered into your name, I can’t exist without you.

Things were going great, so great. You only had eyes for me. Those two beautiful pupils could only look at me, at my face, at my body, only at me. I loved when you stared at me, I was yours after all, you could watch how much you wanted.

That was until those two eyes became one. You got a big bruise on your left eye, it was swollen, black, and horrible.

You were waiting for me near the big tree behind the school like you always did, and you talked to me like you always did, without worry or pain. “Hey, Chaewon,” you greeted me.

“What happened?!”

“Nothing, I just hurt myself,” you lied. How naive you were, you were too kind, too nice. I didn’t believe you one single bit. I wonder why you did that? Why did you lie to me? Was it to protect whoever did that to you? To protect who hurt you?

“Tell me. Tell me, who hurt you?” I asked you calmly.

“It’s really nothing Chae… I’m serious, I only hurt myself—”

“TELL ME WHO THE HELL HURT YOU RIGHT FUCKING NOW!!!” I asked again, the sudden increase in volume startled you and you backed away into the tree. I didn’t know at the time, and you’d tell me later, but my eyes were empty. You got scared, I apologize, I just couldn’t help it.

“Ch-Chaewon?” you stuttered.

When I realized you were terrified, I calmed down. “Huh? Oh, my bad, sorry… I was just really worried, but now, please tell me.” I shook my head and took a couple of steps back.

“Okay, I will tell you… it was Seojun,” you finally confessed. “I bumped into him and spilled his drink on his uniform. I apologized, but since I was alone and his ‘friends’ were with him, they thought they could get their revenge on me.”

“I see… let’s get you some ice for that eye for now,” I told you and we started to walk into the infirmary for the second time. I hated walking into that place, especially with you. I tried my best to hold it inside me, not to scare you again, but I was going to snap anytime soon.

“Chae, are you alright?” you asked me.

“Oh, don’t worry about me, dear… and it will okay from now on. You don’t have to worry about Seojun anymore.”

You know, people say that the first time is special, you never forget it. The first time I bathed my hands in the warm liquid that is human blood, my body was cold. I felt hesitation at first, but I knew I was doing it for you, and thinking about you, all that fear was gone. And I killed him.

Yes, it was me that killed Seojun. I don’t regret one bit what I’ve done to him. I made sure he suffered as much as he made you suffer. An eye for an eye, as they say.

That day was special, it was like I confessed to you and instead of a ring, I gave you a life. It was only fair you’d give me your life in return.

The murder of Seojun made headlines in the news and when asked about it, the students never said anything nor praised or acted sad at his death. No one missed him. It’s quite sad that life can be so insignificant that not a single person will care about how gruesome your death was and forget you the next day. To be quite honest, he deserved it. We die in the same way we live.

You were a bit suspicious of me at first. You didn’t really doubt me—you were curious. The news of his death was delivered by our professor during the first period with a sigh before continuing the lesson. The reactions were mixed but mostly towards one extreme: relief.

When a bad person dies, two things will happen: if you’re a good person or a victim, you will be happy; if you’re equally bad then you’ll be scared, because you know he already got what he deserved and nothing prevented you from having the same fate as nothing is stronger than luck.

You were both worried and glad. I’ve always noticed how you tend to care about other people, it’s something that I really love about you, you just have to direct toward the people who deserve it. “Hey, Chae, do you know anything about Seojun’s murder?” you asked me during the break. You were hesitant at first but I was sure you’ve thought about it long enough to decide to spill it.

You must have thought about what I said the other day: You don’t have to worry about Seojun anymore.

“Huh?” I raised my eyebrow at you. “Why would I have anything to do with his death?”

“W-well… you see… you said that I didn’t have to worry about him anymore and the next day… he dies.” Your shoulders were so tight almost as if you were trying to keep the words inside of you. Your gaze flitted around the room, never settling on one person or object for long.

“It must have been a coincidence,” I told you. “And karma.”

“Right,” you muttered. Then you relaxed your shoulders.

“By the way,” I changed the topic, “there is going to be the last test before the debut at Hybe.”

Your eyes changed completely, they brightened. Every time I talked about my dream, you always seemed too excited for me. You fully believed in my ambition and constantly encouraged me to keep trying. Whenever I practiced, I always thought of you.

I always think of you.

“That’s awesome, Chae. It’s your opportunity, you wanted to become an idol all this time.”

“I will start practicing right away then,” I said. “I want to be with you that day. Can you come with me?”

“What day will it be?”

“Next Saturday, 4:00 pm.”

“Next Saturday… 4:00 pm,” you repeated. “I’ll make sure to be there—I will be there, I will.”

“Thank you,” I smiled and hugged you. You were still a bit against the idea of hugging but slowly you were getting used to it. I trusted that you’ll eventually come to love it.

I had prepared about four songs for the test: two for my singing and two for my dancing, one of them was good for both. I decided to be very broad with my songs because if they asked for more, I’d be prepared. You never know. I didn’t want to go there and have them ask for a random song and fail horribly.

You were waiting for me in front of the building with a little bag of snacks. I mentioned all of them before to you and you remembered. Some of them were for when I’d finish the whole thing and some as a snack to calm my nerves.

Honestly, I felt like you were my boyfriend already. If anyone saw us together, they’d say the same thing. Every little thing you did was so full of attention, I knew you cared for me, and I loved you so much.

Anyways, the time came. I bid you goodbye and entered.

The test went terribly wrong.

You waited two hours for me, only for me to blow it all up. When I came out, I was so embarrassed, I didn’t want you to see me at all.

“So Chae, how was it?” you asked but I didn’t reply. It was hard to come up with any word at all. I couldn’t even look at you in the eyes.

“Chae?”

“Chaewon?”

You finally got enough at the third time and you grabbed my shoulder to shake and direct my gaze at you. “Chaewon, answer me please!” you said with an upset tone.

“Do you… do you think I’m a failure?”

“What are you talking about?” you asked back.

“Hey, am I a failure? Tell me. Were the guys right? I am not meant to be an idol after all, should I give up after all? Tell me, please!” I hiccuped and cried. I was truly heartbroken. It was the test per se but the fact that I disappointed you, that I wasted all your determination and belief you had in me.

“Chaewon, no…” you whispered and went for a hug. It was awkward, you didn’t know how to hug. You tried to put a hand on my shoulder and one on my hip, but it didn’t work. Then you tried to put both of them on my shoulder but you looked like you wanted to headbut me. On the third try, you succeeded and properly hugged me very tightly.

I buried my head into your chest, it was where I could really feel safe.

“Chaewon, what happened in there? How did it go?”

“I FAILED! I BLEW IT ALL UP! IT’S ALL GONE!” I yelled and gripped you harder.

“How is that possible? You’re perfect, I mean, you sing so beautifully and you’re beautiful,” you said. “You’ve been practicing… why? How?”

“I’m sorry it’s that I was so worried. I got distracted. I continued to ask myself if I’d fail and so on… I knew the lyrics but I got jittery and…”

“No, Chaewon! I told you to believe in yourself. You can do it. You can do it.”

“But—”

“You have talent, Chae,” you repeated, “and I’ve seen it since day one. You will not fail. You just have to try again.”

I was embarrassed to see if I could try again but you weren’t and you stormed inside the building, dragging me by arm to ask the staff if I could try again. You explained everything and even pleaded with them until they gave in.

This time, you were waiting for me outside the door. I knew I wouldn’t fail again.

Don’t think about anything else. Focus.

I sang the first song. Just like I practiced. Then I danced. It was perfect.

I passed. I was so happy and I just had to tell you. I ran outside but you weren’t there.

I searched everywhere until I understood you weren’t in the building and had to search for you outside. I found you in an alley, bloody and bruised.

I immediately called the ambulance and they rushed you to the hospital. Your condition was so bad they had to x-ray your whole body and do a small surgery.

When I found you, you could barely talk or even breathe. You were laying in a pool of blood, that came from the numerous cuts all over your body—they weren’t clean but all rough and jacked, meaning they came from brute force and not blades. Your clothes were also messed up and ripped. Together, I could count on 19 injuries at least. I couldn’t understand at all. Why would someone do that to you? And how did it happen?

Together with you was a bag with two drinks and a couple of sandwiches. I suppose you went outside to a convenience store to buy something, maybe for me, and then… you were attacked. This may have been premeditated, it’s impossible a group of people randomly hurt you that bad.

I couldn’t stop crying, you know?

To see you in those conditions, I could only think of the worse.

What if you’d never wake up again?

What if you’d be miserable for the rest of your life?

What if you died?

It was my fault. I’m sorry, it was totally my fault. It was because I took way too long in the test, chatting with the staff, seeing the other girls so happily, while you were being jumped… I could have protected you, we could have gone home together and this would have never happened.

The doctor called me. “Kim Chaewon?”

“Yes?” I raised my eyes. I saw him and wiped my tears before standing up and walking to him.

“Is he okay…?” I asked.

“He’s not in danger is what I can tell you. Some of his bones are broken and he has received a concussion, he may be asleep for a while, you see,” he said.

“Can I see him?”

“Yes, you can,” the doctor agreed, “this way…”

He guided me toward another floor of the hospital. You have been transferred from the emergency room to the patient’s rooms. You were in the section where more care was needed—the hallway was quieter, everyone walked slower, and everything was more gentle.

I entered your room slowly, holding myself up with a hand on the door frame and then I saw you. Your eyes were closed. Your whole body was covered in bandages and you were hooked to all sorts of machines with cables and cords everywhere. It was almost like seeing a puppet tied up in strings and they were keeping you alive.

I was scared to come close to you. I feared that any of my movements could have damaged you even more. You were so fragile at that moment.

I gently lowered myself to the chair next to your bed and held your hand. I cried. I cried again, so much. I couldn’t help but keep thinking it was my fault. If only I was quicker…

Some of your items were put in the drawer. I noticed your phone together with your wallet and backpack. The screen was cracked and some of the blood crusted into the cracks. I don’t know why I felt curious but I unlocked the screen—you trusted me enough to let me know your password months ago to check some messages while you were busy cooking—and it opened KakaoTalk. You were texting me and the phone memorized it.

Chae be careful the bullies might be after you

Don’t go in the shortcut at the

Oh, dear. You were on the brink of death and all you could think was to warn me, to protect me. You didn’t even think of calling for help. I understood everything. It was those bullies again… they didn’t forget, did they? It’s because their life turned to hell after they didn’t have anyone to bully anymore and they got revenge but attacking you.

I was angry. I was furious. I was so pissed that I unconsciously cracked your phone even more. It was that feeling again, all over—the fire in my chest.

I will kill them. Each one of the. I will make them suffer. I will tear them to shreds. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them. I will kill them.

I will make them pay for everything they have done for you.

They were so stupid. It was so easy to trick them: I attacked their leader when he was coming home late and forced him to send a message to everyone who was involved in your attack—he confessed right away when I showed him my knife.

The guys came on point the next day. It was all so easy. They always hung out at the abandoned warehouse where they could make all the mess they wanted and dragged their victims to torture them properly and in private. Now they were dragging themselves to their death.

I dressed in black that day. You never liked seeing me in black. People used to tell me I tried to stand out too much so they forced me to use torn, old, ugly clothes, but when they stopped tormenting me, you brought me to buy more clothes for me.

But that day I wasn’t dressing as the victim. I was in the guise of the Grim Reaper.

I prepared my knives, axes, clamps, nails, and staplers and waited for them in the building.

Humans are so easy to kill. They are so frail and mortal—I had to be extremely careful not to let them die immediately to cause them all the pain they deserved. I’ll spare you the details. You don’t have to know of the gruesome parts of their murder. I’ll just tell you everything they did to you and in their years of bullying, I did to them. From crowbars to knives, to fire and stabbing.

When the last one stopped screaming, I felt at peace. The silence was absolute. I couldn’t even hear the wind, the cars, or the noises of the city. It was completely quiet.

I finally avenged you.

Part 4

Disposing of the bodies was quite simple but extremely tiring. I had to chop their bodies to bits, bury them and hide all the evidence. I cleaned with bleach all my weapons, the floor, and the walls of the warehouse. I had to soil the floor since it was dirty before and I couldn’t leave a clean patch in there, it would have been a dead giveaway.

Of course, I had to get rid of all their phones. I broke them into little pieces before grinding them up to a bag of dust and flushing them down the toilet.

I got most of my weapons from around the city. I stole the knives from the school kitchen and returned them to them. I did the crime on a Friday night and finished in the evening of Saturday so they wouldn’t have noticed the disappearance of their tools. I bought the rest of the tools from a hardware store so I could have just put it in someone else’s garage.

I couldn’t burn my clothes or rags because that would have caught the attention of my neighbors or anyone nearby so I colored it with all sorts of paints so the blood would have been unrecognizable. If anyone analyzed them, it would look like they were of an artist. And then I disposed of them.

Burying the bodies was the most laborious part and I could only do it during the night. It took me both Saturday and sunday to get rid of all the evidence.

The next days were all marked by nightmares. I didn’t dream of what I did. What haunted me was you leaving me. I was afraid that my crime could have separated us.

Chaewon, you’re a monster.

I can’t be friends with a murderer.

I can’t love a killer.

I hate you.

I wish you died.

I was distressed and jittery during the day and couldn’t sleep at night. Many times I would get distracted in those thoughts, imagining all the things you could say to me, and not realize people calling me. I would often zone out and not hear anything else.

“Chaewon? Are you okay?” my classmates would tell me. I would snap out of my daze and realize most of them were looking at me then I’d realize I actually chipped a corner of the table off with my grip.

“Oh, I’m sorry, it’s nothing,” I could only say. They would continue with the day forgetting about it or just tell their friends excitedly about a classmate with a freakish strength.

It was especially hard when I was training with the other trainees but I told myself you wouldn’t be proud of me if I wasn’t doing my best and forced myself to dance.

On Monday, their disappearance was announced but nobody could find anything. Not a single trace. The secret was safe with me.

They also announced your attack but they didn’t connect the two events together, assuming you were also a victim. The attacks in this Korea were common anyways. Bullying was so widespread you could say it was part of our culture.

After a week. you were still asleep. The doctor concluded that they must have stomped your head too for you to be concussed that badly. They damaged the nerves.

Unfortunately, I knew only after I killed them. If I knew I would have done the same to them so they could feel the pain you felt but I guess cutting their limbs counts as nerve damage as well.

I was getting extremely impatient waiting for your awakening. The doctor couldn’t help me but it wasn’t their fault. I’ve only realized now how much I relied on you and those days without you were as sad as Halloween without candies.

When I woke up, I couldn’t tell if the Sun rose already or if it was still sunrise, it was timid, and the light cast a somber hue in the room. It was gray and pale. The soundscape was eerily quiet, the usual chirping birds seemed to have disappeared, as if even nature was mourning alongside me.

Walking through the corridors of the school, I felt like a solitary figure amidst a sea of faces. Conversations echoed around me, yet they seemed distant. The classrooms, usually alive with energy, felt suffocatingly silent.

I couldn’t help but notice how happy the other students went on with their days, completely ignoring what happened to you. Worst of all, some students even mocked you, saying you were a loser and you deserved it. My bloodthirst was beyond the roof. I had to hold myself back a lot not to commit other killings, reminding myself that I could have raised a case of a serial killer if I wasn’t careful enough.

I thought I had been sneaky enough not to raise any suspicion but I didn’t know the only person to find out would have been you.

I was in an alley near the hospital when I met one of those mean girls. They were badmouthing you and I had to make sure they wouldn’t do it again. I didn’t kill them, you don’t have to worry about that. I merely sent a message, a little punishment. I got one nail for each insult they said toward you. Poor them, they won’t have nails for months—I hope it hurts.

They ran away but when I turned around, I saw you. You were looking at me so horrified and disgusted.

“I had my suspicions, Chae…” you said. “The coincidence was too perfect. I woke up and saw the news, I knew it was you. And now, I’m sure.”

“You’re mistaken, dear,” I tried to say foolishly.

“Chae, I saw everything.” Your face morphed into an extreme melancholy, of disappointment and sadness. My face instead contorted into a horrified frown. You… my best and only friend, my love. You discovered my worse secret—I knew what the consequences were and I knew what the risks were.

“I mean, what are you even doing here? Weren’t you still sleeping?”

“I woke up this morning—I got discharged—and the doctor let me take a walk… and then I saw you.”

“Do you know what I did all of this, darling?” I asked, my nerves were so tense and my blood was pumping like crazy. I was getting more and more scared. There was a thread inside me that was being pulled and pulled…

“W-what is it?” you asked with hesitation.

“It’s because… I… I love you.”

I saw the shock on your face but I couldn’t stop myself anymore. I did it. I snapped. You found out and there was no turning back. You didn’t have a choice either.

“W-what? What are you saying?”

“Darling, don’t you get it? I love you so so so so so much. I love you so much—to the point I killed for you. Yes, I did kill them. I murdered them. I slaughtered them. I made them suffer, love, the way they made you suffer… Please! Please understand—I’m doing this because I love you.”

“Chae, you’re scaring me. Stop…”

“Oh, don’t be scared, my love. I would never harm you or kill you… I would only cherish you—in fact, I did all of this to protect you from those bastards! I love you with all of my heart.”

That fire inside of me took over again and this time I was already glued to you, my knee under your thigh, pinning you to the wall, a hand on your cheek and one near your waist. You couldn’t move at all, I wouldn’t let you. I was finally this close to you… your skin was so smooth and soft—just like you, my precious baby.

Maybe I was smiling a bit too much. You’d describe to me later that I looked psychotic, yes, I was crazy.

You didn’t know how to react. I admit, you were so cute—so vulnerable and fragile, just at my mercy. Yet, you dared to take and push my hand away from your face.

“Chae, I’m sorry,” you said and it almost broke my heart, “but I just… I-I- I don’t know…” you said.

“What aren’t you sure about? Is it my love? Is it not clear enough?” I asked. “I’ll do anything for you, just ask me.”

“Please stay away from me,” you replied, “for a while.”

“What are you saying, darling?”

“Chae… you’re my best friend and I understand why you did all of that. I do. But I need to think about it. Don’t worry, I won’t say this to anyone, no one at all, but I need to stay alone for a bit,” you pleaded, “I just recovered too.”

“Okay, fine,” I agreed. You were right. It was a bit too much for you, especially after you just woke up from that concrete hospital bed. Also, I knew I could trust you. You never betrayed me so that did not scare me.

You slowly backed away and left me, alone in the alley.

I don’t know why but I started laughing hysterically.

I thought I messed up a lot. That isn’t the way your lover should look at you, right? Terrified and pleading on the verge of tears. You should have looked at me lovingly. I was so scared you’d leave me and I couldn’t let you do that. I needed you too much.

But then you left me waiting for almost a month. I respected your choice and didn’t contact you at all but it’s been too long. I figured that knowing I killed tormented you so I didn’t touch anyone else but rather I kept it to simply threatening them verbally and that seemed to work.

You have to understand I couldn’t take it anymore. Looking at your pictures every night wasn’t enough. Listening to your voice from the vocal messages wasn’t enough. Smelling the shirts I stole from you wasn’t enough, and the smell was fading away. My imagination wasn’t enough, especially when I knew I could have you and I was just waiting for the right moment.

Then the right moment came. I sent you a message just to let you know, you couldn’t say no. I went right to your house, which I came over to many times already, and even your mother knew me. She let me inside with a smile, she was so kind. I knew where you got that virtue from.

I heard you running frantically around your room. You must have been dressing up, so I waited until you were done, knocked, and opened the door. Your room smelled just like I remembered it, it was so good, it was just you.

“It’s been a while, Chae,” you said, clearly nervous. “How are you doing?”

“I’m doing terrible, honey,” I answered honestly and you gulped. “You know, I’ve been good to you. I waited and did nothing else. I did not kill or hurt anyone. I let you have your space, then why did you disappear for an entire month?”

“I kept thinking and reflecting on what happened…”

“For a month?” I was furious. “Did you try to make me forget you? Did you try to forget me?”

“It’s that… It has been a tough month,” you said. “My best friend murdered 6 people, or more… How could I go back to what we were before? You killed… humans.”

“So? They didn’t deserve to live anyways. I did it for you.”

“No, Chae—”

“They beat you up so badly you couldn’t even walk!” I snapped. “They badmouthed you, they laughed at you and… why are you defending them?!”

“Yes, but you took their lives.”

“They were going to take your life too! Don’t you get it?”

“Chae, please—”

“No! Shut up! I can’t take this anymore! I can’t forgive them. They’re always making fun of you, beating you up, torturing you—just because you’re my friend! But you keep shoving it away and get hurt for me… I- I…”

I hugged you. I had to hold onto something and you were the only one that could have helped me stand up. All those years… I was so pent up, I was so tired of it. I know you told me many times to let it be but I can’t. Sorry, I just can’t help it. I can’t let anyone walk away after they hurt you, even if it’s something as little as pinching you, because you mean too much to me.

“Darling, I love you!” I sobbed and pleaded onto your chest, bathed by my tears, “I missed you so much. If I don’t see you even for a day, it starts to hurt, you know? I’ll do anything to stay with you, anything! Just tell me! I want to see you every day, I can’t let you leave like this…”

“If it’s like this,” you started, “we can make a deal.”

“A-a deal? Really?”

“Yes, a deal. You can see me how much you want but absolutely no killing. No physical assault and no insults to anyone.”

“Is that it?”

“Yes, you just have to restrain yourself.”

“Very well. Then, I promise, I will never kill again, I swear. Does that mean I can see you every day?” I asked. My tears finally stopped pouring out, the hiccup was still there, but I could focus and talk to you properly now. I took a deep breath and spoke, “Then you have to be my boyfriend from now on.”

“What did you just say?” you asked with confusion.

“You can’t say no. You are my boyfriend now. You know already, I told you so many times. I love you with all of myself.”

I knew you liked me a little already. I wasn’t sure if it was as strong as my love for you was, although I doubt it can, I knew you were interested in me. No one would stick with me for that long and no one would defend me from all those bullies. I knew you loved me, of course you did, you always took care of me since our first day and I couldn’t help but fall for you too.

I tried my best to change my appearance to suit your ideal type more. I dressed better, I dieted, I worked out, and I practiced so much that I wouldn’t disappoint you.

“Chae, are you sure? I’m just a regular guy and you’re an idol…”

“Don’t lie to yourself, honey. I wouldn’t give myself to just anyone. You never laughed about me, you believed in me when nobody else did, and you infected me with your kindness and humanity. You’re the best man I can ask for.”

“Thank you…”

“You’ll be my boyfriend and I’ll be your girlfriend, okay? Do you accept?”

“Uhm…”

“Do you accept?”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“Ma’am?” I laughed. “Don’t tell me you have some weird fetish going on… It’s okay. Just tell me, I won’t mind, hehe.”

Part 5

You have been very strict with me. The first thing you did was to establish a set of rules and all the punishment that would have resulted in breaking them. You’ve been very clear in defining them and made sure I understood you were very serious about it and would absolutely punish me if I dared to not respect them. They were something along the line of:

NO KILLING. The punishment is an instant break-up.

NO BODY HARM to anyone. The punishment is no contact for two weeks.

NO KIDNAPPING/STALKING/THREATENING other people. The punishment is no skin touching for a week.

RESPECT YOU. We’re together in this relationship and I have to listen to you.

TRUST YOU. You'll leave me if I don’t trust you when you tell me you aren’t cheating.

I accepted them and we started dating. Our relationship was as good as it was before but this time I got to be as clingy as I wanted, hugging you as much as I wanted, holding your hand wherever we went, and most of all you gave me a lot of head pats. You always gave me head pats to congratulate me when I did well in school or had a good performance.

It was difficult to respect those rules and you showed me how convinced you were of them when I broke the hand of a guy who shoved you against the lockers. You really ghosted me for two weeks without saying anything. When they ended I couldn’t help but jump on you and I promised to be more careful. Since then, I didn’t break any other rules and you showed me your love in so many ways, I lost count of them.

We learned a lot about each other and helped each other all the time. You helped me be more confident with my skills and get angry (but you told me I was cute when I got mad). You were always a bit discouraged with your work, giving up easily, and I made sure you knew how great you were. Just like me, school has really made you more insecure about yourself, but when we were together, we achieved a lot more.

Recently I discovered a hidden diary you used to keep under your bed, between the mattress and the frame. The last thing you wrote was months ago, way before the incident, and it was you rambling about me. ABOUT ME! And it was so adorable. “I have the biggest crush on my friend!” You wrote on the last page.

I stared at the words in a daze, it was like the words were screaming in my face. I was used to only obsessing over you and knowing you were going through the same thing warmed my heart.

You know, I’ve never believed in good endings, but with you, I think I finally found one where we are the protagonists. Our story is not like a fairy tale, it’s far from perfect, I am not a princess, nor could ever be one. However, you made me feel like one and I’m more than sure you’re my prince.

Sorry if I am always so obsessive and so imperfect, I just can’t help it.

THE END

Written, 7 June - 27 June 2023

#yandere #yanderekpop #yanderekpopgg #kpop #lesserafim #chaewon #chaewon yandere #angst

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mlm-writer · 7 months

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Home (Peter Parker x GN!Reader)

Pairing: Peter Parker (TASM) x Gender Neutral Reader Rating: General Audiences (except for one swear word) Words: 1652 POV: Second Summary: The Big Tober Day 2 - Love Confession Tags: college AU, you're both studying mechanical engineering, Peter is a genius, you're just ken, fluff, kinda cheesy and kissing

It’s always something. You can never have a normal exam week, where you just spend your days in the library surrounded by fellow students, mutually fuelled by caffeine and stress. Supervillain of the week literally burned down the public library and there was an alien spacecraft that crashed into your favourite café. It felt like you still had a million chapters to read and another five thousand words to write for an essay and not to forget that your stupid project partner still has not even opened the Google Slides link you sent them.

A long sigh, mixed with a frustrated growl left you as you once again couldn’t find a single spot on campus to sit down and study. It was always crowded like this during exam week. If you wanted a good spot, you better come to campus at 6:30am, but who had the energy for that? Fortunately for you, there was a small pebble on the road that led through the fields of yellowed grass between the main building and the main gate. You kicked it as hard as you could, letting all your woes leave you through your foot and into that little rock. It flew forward and - unexpectedly - up. “Oh shit!” You exclaimed as you followed its trajectory with your eyes. It was going straight for someone’s head, but before you could tell the brunet to watch out, he turned around and caught the pebble midair.

When he was turned around, you recognised him. Out of all people for that pebble to almost hit, it just had to be your crush. “Peter!” You called out to him as you jogged over. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to kick it your way… good catch by the way.”

Peter held the pebble in his fist and smiled at you; he was so cute when he did that. “Oh hey!” He beamed at you. When you complimented his catch, he hid his hands behind him and avoided eye contact. “Thanks, I got uh… good reflexes.” He cleared his throat and then looked at you. “Already done with studying for the day?”

You let out another frustrated sigh. “Ha! I wish. I came here to study, but it is fuller than a Blackpink concert stadium here. Guess I’ll have to settle for my tiny desk in my shoe-box dorm room.”

Peter snorted at your comparison. He seemed to want to say something, but he was hesitant about it. “Uh…” You raised your brows at him, awaiting his words. “I just uh… finished my final presentation for the thermodynamics course-”

“Oh how did that go?” “Got an A, but that’s not important-”

“Not important? Bro, you’re kidding, that's great!”

Peter was getting a little red. You liked how humble he was in spite of how smart he was. He was a little awkward, but during presentations, he often had his own flavour of charisma that made you listen instantly. He was good on the eyes too…

“Uhm, thank you… what I wanted to say is uh… I’m going home now to study. My aunt won’t be home until late and you’re free to join me at my dinner table - to study, I mean, but you’re welcome to join for dinner too of course!”

You kept forgetting Peter still doesn’t live on his own. Sometimes you envied him, sometimes you were happy with your freedom. “Are you sure? That’d be really cool. Studying together is way more fun than on my own anyway. Oh, do you maybe have notes for our material science course that I could borrow?”

A little later those notes were in front of you as you were seated at Peter’s dinner table. You had never been in his home before, but the Earthy tones and natural lights just made it feel like a home. There was love in the pictures that decorated the place, there was personality in the old books that scattered the house, one of a shelf on the wall, another one next to a vase with flowers, another on the side table by the couch…

“Here you go!” Peter put a glass of juice next to you. You thanked him with a smile. You did not realise how your warm smile fit right in that room, how it made Peter’s heart leap and his stomach flip upside down. He just sat down across from you like there was nothing going on.

You managed to concentrate for a good half hour, but after that your eyes drifted up and caught onto a sight that was way better than a schematic drawing of how tension affects different materials. Peter had this cute frown of concentration on his face, a pencil balancing between his lips as he typed something up on his laptop. He abruptly paused and looked straight at you. The change was so sudden; your eyes widened, before you forced them back onto Peter’s notes. Your face felt hot. Peter definitely caught you staring and you had no idea what he thought of it. Did he suspect you fantasised about kissing him whenever he info-dumped on you? Did he know how his smile could light up your whole day? Did he have a clue or was he just that oblivious? Most smart people were.

Suddenly, Peter let his head fall onto the dinner table. “I can’t do this anymore!” He exclaimed. You gave him a worried look, not that he saw it with his face planted in his notes.

“Wow, I didn’t know even the genius Peter Parker suffered from exam breakdown,” you commented. You genuinely thought Peter thought exams were a breeze. His grades were all exemplary, except that one time he was down with the flu so bad, you didn’t see him for three weeks.

“That’s not it! I’m-” he lifted his head. He was clearly upset, but as he rose from his seat to walk back and forth along the kitchen counters, he couldn’t put a single sentence together. He had paced the length of his kitchen at least five times, before he spoke up again. “This is so not how I envisioned this going, but I feel like I am gonna burst if I don’t say this now!” He walked over to you and, in an incredible display of strength, turned your chair with you on it to face away from the table. His arms were caging you, holding the back of the old, wooden furniture. “I’m so in love with you and…” He seemed to realise what he said and physically backed up until his back was against the wall.

You didn’t know what to say. It was hard to believe your ears. You just stared at him in shock as Peter did that thing you adored so much – rattling on like someone who did not prepare enough text to fill up their 30-minutes presentation. “And I don’t need you to feel the same, sorry, that was coming off a little strong, but I mean it. It’s like I’m in pain when I’m around you and I can’t hold you. Wait no that’s cheesy. Is it? I don’t even know, you make me wanna say cheesy stuff!” Peter was suddenly very interested in the couch in the living room, his eyes never leaving it as more words poured uncontrollably from his mouth. “When you look at me all my instincts are telling me you feel the same, but it could be wishful thinking, but I am so sure, but what if I’m wrong, I mean if I AM wrong, then that’s fine, I just…”

You stood up. Peter immediately shut up, eyes shifting to the floor. He looked like a child caught with his fingers in the cookie jar. You took a deep breath to settle your nerves and then closed the distance quickly, putting one hand on the wall behind Peter. Your classmate froze up and you wanted to relieve him of his nerves, but you had your own that clogged up your throat and wound your vocal cords tight like a scrunchie holding a very heavy ponytail. “Whenever you talk, I never want you to shut up, but when I look at your lips moving, I cannot think about anything but making you shut up with my own.”

Peter looked up, glistening eyes pulling you in. You were scanning each other’s faces, both scared this was all just some prank or a dream. “I’m going to ruin this moment by talking about material science if you don’t shut me up right now,” he almost whispered. You chuckled and put an arm around him, pulling him against you until your lips met. It was like coming home, like hot chocolate in winter, like a cosy blanket by the window on a rainy day.

Your lips touched like they were meant to do so from day one. It was your first kiss together and yet it felt like you had been doing this for ages. Your whole body felt like it was going haywire and the look in Peter’s eyes when you parted did not help. Neither of you said anything, kissing in the kitchen over and over again, as if you were memorising each other’s taste, while you should be memorising that schematic you still had open on your laptop.

When you finally found it in you to take a step back from Peter, you were both smiling giddily at each other. You broke the silence between you two, before Peter did. “All jokes aside, I actually do need you to talk to me about material science. I think I’ll be much more concentrated when you explain it.”

Peter let out a chuckle. “Ok, but when exams are over, you are buying me dinner.”

You slowly walked back to your chair. “I’ll even throw in a movie as well,” you replied, suddenly feeling a lot better about your exams.

—————

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jeridandridge · 7 months

Note

I like prompt 6!

Thank you for the request! 🩷 Prompt 6 "Why do you always look at me like that?""Like what? "Like you... Want me."

Looks

The first day you started at Abbott was a good one. Janine and Jacob were more than welcoming, Greggory was friendly, and Barbra was kind. The red headed second grade teacher was another story.

You have no idea how to read the woman. Shes reserved and uninterested any time you’re around, but sometimes she looks back at you with this look in her eye. The first time it happens you’re by the sink pouring a cup of coffee. You feel eyes on you as you do so, and when you turn around Melissa has her glasses perched on the bridge of her nose looking up at you.

Feeling self conscious you let out a fake, unbothered laugh going back to the table. “What, do I have something on my back?”

The woman shakes her head looking back down at her phone.

“Nah, you’re good, hon.”

Hon. That was a first for you.

The second time it happens you’re on recess duty. It’s the middle of October, the chilly wind mixed with the rays of the sun makes being outside tolerable, but it’s still chilly.

“Hey, Amir, come here.” You call one of your younger students over noticing he’s only in his Abbott shirt and no jacket. “Hey buddy, wheres your jacket?” You ask kneeling down in front of him.

Little did you know Barbara and Melissa were close enough.

The little boy looks at you with a shrug.

“My mama said next time she get money she get me one.”

“Oh okay.” You hum with a nod. “Well,” you start taking your own jacket off revealing a black zip up underneath. “Would you like to wear this while you play?” you ask holding it out for him.

When Amir puts the hoodie on and runs off, you slide your jacket back on catching a look from Melissa you’ve seen once before.

“That was very nice, dear.” Barbara smiles at you. “There’s a lot of that here in the winter months.”

“I’m sure it’s been done before but what about a coat drive? Not to sound too ambitious or anything like that, I’m not on Janine’s level,” you chuckle, “but that could work.”

Barbara laughs nodding along. “We could do something small like that I’m sure.”

You try to keep your eyes on the older teacher but you can’t help but glance at Melissa by her side in her black leather jacket and pink beanie. She looked incredible, and here she was looking at you like that again.

Melissa Schemmenti is a tough woman, you know that, but there was no way she was into you in any other way than a colleague. It didn’t matter if she bit her lip when she looked at you, if you caught her putting lipgloss on and she kept eye contact with you when she saw. No way.

The third time it happens you decide to say something.

While in the library grabbing new books for your classroom, Melissa comes in to do the same thing.

“Hey, Melissa.” You give her a friendly smile. In the past few weeks the red head became more friendly, warming up to you. You figured Barb had something to do with it.

As she stands with her back to you looking at the other shelf you reach up to grab another book, making your shirt ride up a bit exposing a part of your tattoo that ends on your lower back.

When you turn back around book in hand you see the same look on the red heads face, her lip between her teeth and a glint in her eye.

“Okay what is that?” You point at her, almost sounding annoyed. “This is the third time I’ve caught you looking at me like that.”

“What I can’t look at ya?” The older woman laughs.

“No, no you always look at me like THAT.” You cross your arms.

“Like what?”

You eye the woman, the wave in her hair cascading like red wine, a smirk on her glossed lips almost like she’s challenging you.

“Like you want me.”

Melissa quirks a brow, smirk still on her lips.

“So what if I did?”

It’s your turn to challenge the woman. Arms still crossed you shrug leaning back against the bookcase, your heart speeds up in your chest at the game you’re playing.

“I’d tell you to ask me out.”

Melissa gives you her best smile, eyes crinkling and all. You loved when she did that. Before she can say anything you shrug again starting to walk away throwing a look over your shoulder.

“Come by my room after the dismissal bell.”

Leaving the redhead flustered behind you walk back to your room with a proud smile on your lips.

#abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #wlw #Melissa Schemmenti x reader #Melissa Schemmenti #lgbtq+ fiction

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 4 days

Text

Never Say Never

Chapter 19

Pairing: SingleDad!StevexReader

Summary: You are a 32 year old single mother, raising your seven year old son on your own. After being widowed at 30 and going out on awful dates with disgusting men for the past month, you have decided that you're giving up. You already had your great love. One person can't possibly get lucky enough to have two in their lifetime. But then your son starts playing baseball and the coach might just change your mind about that.

No posting schedule.

18+ only for eventual smut

Word Count: 7.4K

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18

The peak of summer had hit. Humid days meant lots of time at the local pool and lake. You and Steve were enjoying every moment of the boys' break from school with them. Picnics in the woods, cookouts with friends, mini-golf, and trips to the zoo filled up your weekends. Evening bike rides had become part of your routine, often ending with ice cream cones or slushies from Scoops Ahoy. Nights spent chasing fireflies and roasting marshmallows over a fire. You and Steve had taken to enjoying evenings on the deck after the boys were in bed, glasses of wine in your hands.

Mid-July found everyone once again sitting around a large table at Sage and Salt, minus your parents, as you were all there for an entirely different reason this time.

“To Mike!” everyone cheered loudly, glasses clinking in celebration all around the table.

Mike’s cheeks blazed bright red, his lips disappearing in embarrassment at everyone making a fuss over him. He’d told you last week that he finally got an offer for his book. The book he’d been working on for years was finally going to be published, he was getting a decent advance for a new author, had signed the contract just that afternoon, and everyone had insisted on going out to celebrate.

“Thank you but this all feels a little…premature, doesn’t it?” he asked. “I mean, yeah, I got an offer and signed a contract but we have no idea how the book is going to do. Getting published doesn’t mean anything. Lots of people get published and their book just sits on a shelf collecting dust. It could still horribly flop.”

“It will not,” insisted El, looping her arm through his, a proud smile on her face. “You are going to do incredible. Michael Wheeler is going to be a household name.”

“Yeah, man. You could be the next Stephen King,” Lucas said.

Dustin snorted, “Nobody’s the next Stephen King. Stephen King is the only Stephen King there is or ever will be. Besides, his books are in a totally different genre. You can’t even compare the two.”

Max rolled her eyes, “Jesus Christ, Dustin. Can you just say yeah and be happy for your friend?”

“I am happy for my friend but it would be more appropriate to compare him to Eddings or Brookes as his book would be of the fantasy genre and they are fantasy authors. Of course, those are big shoes to fill. If his books do even half as well as theirs I will be impressed.”

“Okay, we get it,” Steve sighed, shaking his head. “Anyway, this is a huge deal and I am sure your book is going to be great. Congratulations Mike.”

“Thank you.”

“Yes, we’re so proud of you,” Karen beamed, teary, reaching over the table to pinch his cheek as he grimaced and pulled back from his mom.

“It’s about time,” Tedd grumbled, taking a long drink of his beer. “Only been working on the damn thing for five years, letting his wife pick up the slack.” Karen elbowed him and he looked over at her, completely unaware of how rude he was being.

“Well,” Joyce added, “I think it’s great. I can’t wait to read it. I will be first in line to buy it the day it comes out.”

Mike smiled at her, “Thanks.” He glanced around the table at all of his friends. “And thanks to all of you. If you wouldn’t have pushed me so hard, I’d probably still be editing it over and over again, too scared to ever actually put it out into the world.”

Nancy ruffled his hair, “No problem, kid. We all knew you had it in you even if you didn’t.”

“It’s an amazing story,” Will told them. “Mike really did his research. It’s well planned out, the plot is gripping, the characters are amazing, and the world building is on point.”

Dustin’s mouth dropped open, his fork hitting the plate with a clang, his eyebrows furrowing, “Wait. You’ve read it?”

Will shrugged, “I mean, yeah. Mike wanted me to look it over to see what I thought. I actually helped him with some of the editing.”

“How come he got to read it?” demanded Dustin, offended. “You said we couldn’t read it until it was published and perfect?”

“It’s Will,” Mike stated as if that should be enough explanation. “I trust Will to be honest with me.”

“We’re honest,” Lucas scoffed.

Max’s eyes rolled into her head, “Boys, boys…calm down. You all will have a chance to read it in a few months when it comes out. No need to bicker over who got to read it first. You’re all very important to Mike.”

“Speaking of people who are about to be famous, you will never guess who I saw at the record store today,” Robin said, turning to Steve as the boys continued to banter back and forth, her hand reaching across the table to grab a roll from the basket sitting in front of Steve.

“Who?” he asked.

“Eddie Munson.”

Steve’s eyes went wide, “For real?”

Robin nodded with a grin like she’d just spilled the juiciest news ever but being that you had no idea who she was talking about, you just munched on your bread. It didn’t appear that June had any idea who it was either as her and you shared a look of confusion. Based on the look on Steve’s face, this was very big news indeed.

“But I thought he took off,” Steve continued. “After senior year…well, his third try at senior year, anyway. He said he was getting out of this hellhole and never looking back.”

“He did get out. Hasn’t lived here for years but he came back to help Wayne pack up the trailer. Apparently, his band just got a record deal with this big label in L.A. He said they’ve been playing in clubs for years and were just thinking of packing it in and giving it up when this big record executive came to one of their shows. Anyway, they gave him this huge advance and he bought a house out there and Wayne is going to move in with him.”

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Steve remarked, his hand on your shoulder, thumb stroking the bare skin along the strap of your tank top. You had learned over the last few months that he was a very physical guy. Some part of him was almost always touching you and you weren’t complaining about it. “Good for him. You know, the way this town treated him, I always hoped he’d do well and show them all.”

“Who’s Eddie Munson?” June questioned just as you were about to ask it yourself.

“He’s this guy we went to school with. He’s Steve’s age but he had some struggles in school so he wound up graduating with my class. Honestly, I think he might have had ADD but of course they didn’t really talk about that back then. They’ve only really started talking about it in the last couple years. If you couldn’t keep your ass in the chair and learn like everyone else then you were just out of luck. Most of the teachers wrote him off as a lost cause so he lived up to it. He was sent out of the classroom so many times for being obnoxious or causing a disruption. But he was crazy talented at the guitar and he always had a book he was reading. People called him dumb but I never thought he was. Annoying, absolutely, but not dumb. I think he just couldn’t get it the way they were teaching it and no one took the time to figure out how to teach him.”

Steve shrugged, “He had it hard here. The town treated him like trash because his dad was trash. His old man went to prison for selling hot car parts and his mom took off when he was just a toddler. He wound up living with his Uncle Wayne when he was in middle school. Wayne had a trailer in Forest Hills. So on top of being a felon’s kid, on top of having trouble at school, he also lived in a trailer. It was the trifecta of judgement for the people in this town. Everyone always said he was up to no good and he was going to turn out just like his father.”

“You know,” Robin mused, tearing off little bits of her roll and stuffing them in her mouth, “one time some of the cheerleaders were being mean to me. Not that it wasn’t something that happened all the time.” She snorted, rolling her eyes. “I was a band geek so the jocks and the popular kids loved to give us shit. Anyway, they took my trumpet and were playing keepaway. Eddie stepped right in and swiped it from them, depositing it in my hands with a flourish and a bow before strolling off down the hallway. I always kind of admired him. He never let those asshats get him down. He just was who he was and he didn’t care what anyone thought of him.”

“I don’t know,” countered Steve. “I think everyone cares what other people think of them. I just think some of us are better at pretending like we don’t. I think that obnoxious, boisterous exterior was a shield he put up to protect himself once he realized he was never going to be accepted by this place. It was easier to pretend it didn’t matter than to allow himself to be vulnerable to the mockery. Dustin sure loved the guy though.”

“Loved who?” asked Dustin, catching the sound of his name.

“Eddie Munson,” Steve answered.

“Hell yeah I did. All of us did.” He gestured down the table to the other boys. “He was a Dungeons and Dragons Master. He was the head of our D&D club, Hellfire, and we all joined our freshman year of high school. Me, Lucas, Mike, and Will were never what you’d call…popular. Lucas was a bit once he started playing basketball and helped them win the championship game. But Eddie, man, he just accepted us from the first day. He gave us a place to belong. We were happy to be one of his sheep.”

Steve snorted, “It was like a damn cult. He referred to them as his sheep like he was a shepherd leading the flock. All four boys loved him but Dustin freaking worshiped the ground he walked on.”

“He passed the reins onto Dustin when he finally graduated, appointing him Dungeon Master,” Robin said, pausing to thank the waitress as she brought their food. “But he was heartbroken when he found out Eddie was going to completely skip town.”

“He was my friend. Hell, he was more like a brother, and he was a hell of a Dungeon master. I tried to fill his shoes but nobody really could,” Dustin stated. “I’ve been out there to visit him a few times, actually. He’s in town right now. Did you know that?”

“That’s what I was just telling him, doofus,” Robin said. Dustin stuck his tongue out at her and she laughed.

“And were you close to Eddie?” you asked Steve.

“Me? No. Not so much. Eddie and I…we didn’t have a lot in common. He was a metalhead who loved to play nerd games. I was an athlete who would rather do just about anything than Dungeons and Dragons. But I never had an issue with him like some people. I always thought he was a pretty good guy. Henderson’s a good judge of character. If he says you’re solid, you probably are. My few interactions with him were alright.”

One of Robin’s eyebrows lifted, her elbow dropping to the table as she leaned forward, “Oh please! You hated that Dustin and him were so close.”

“Yeah he did! He didn’t like that I had another older male friend. He wanted to be the only one.”

Steve’s lips came together, making a noise of disbelief, “Okay, one, gross. And please. Like I cared who you spent your time with. I was just relieved you weren’t constantly following me around anymore.”

Robin turned to you, “Don’t let him fool you. He was so jealous that Dustin was spending more time with Eddie. He got used to being the only one that the kid hero worshipped.”

“Aww,” you teased, poking him in the side, giggling when he jumped. “You didn’t like having to share your little brother?”

His eyes narrowed, “Please. Like I cared who Dustin Henderson hung out with.”

“Oh, he did,” Dustin shot back. “He can act like he didn’t want me around but he’d be lying. Steve loves me.”

“Okay, anyway, onto another topic please,” Steve begged, popping a fry into his mouth as the other guys caught wind of the conversation and started asking Dustin about Eddie.

“Alright, how about we talk about how my amazing girlfriend had some brilliant ideas about how to get more business into the coffee shop?” June offered, her hand covering Robin’s. “I was telling her how weekday evenings can be pretty dead and I wasn’t sure if I should start closing early and she had some amazing suggestions.”

“Oh yeah?” You leaned forward, arms folded on top of the table. You smiled at how red Robin’s cheeks flared at June’s compliment. “What amazing suggestions did you have?”

Robin shook her head, fingers tearing little pieces of her napkin nervously. “It wasn’t really anything spectacular…”

“Yes it was!” June huffed, rolling her eyes. “She’s just being modest. She mentioned starting a book club night. We could have specials to lure them in. I mean, what goes better with a conversation about a good book than a cup of coffee and yummy sweets?”

“Oh, I think that’s a fantastic idea!” you exclaimed, bringing your straw to your lips for a sip of Coke. “We don’t really have anywhere in town that does book clubs. I think you’d get a lot of people interested. You could even make a special dessert to go with the book they’re reading.”

June’s eyes lit up. “I love that idea! Like I could make something with orange marmalade for Bridget Jones's Diary. We think that might be the first pick. I could even come up with some fun drinks to go with it. Maybe instead of coffee, have a fun tea beverage.”

“Yes! I’m totally in for the book club.”

“Oh, did I hear you say you’re starting a book club at the cafe?” asked Nancy, making her way down the table to join them. “I’m in.”

“Really?” Robin asked. “I mean, you really think it’s a good idea?”

“I told you babe,” June sighed, “it’s an amazing idea. We’re thinking about Tuesday nights. We’ll feature one book a month. I’m partnering with Terry, who owns the bookstore. He said he’ll make sure to order extra of whatever we pick so people can buy it directly from him instead of having to drive into the city to find it.” She shrugged. “I mean, it’s a win-win for both of us, you know?”

“I also mentioned a live music night and maybe a poetry night where people could come in and perform,” Robin added, posture straightening as her confidence built seeing that everyone thought it was a good idea. “That’s why I was in the record store today. I was talking to Tom about the local bands he knew of. We want to get the word out but we need to know where to find the people to give the word.”

“Yeah. But we’re thinking of waiting on the live music for a couple months. I want to make sure we have the book club thing down before I try adding in anything else. If that all goes well, then maybe in a couple more months we can phase in poetry night.”

“The Hideout would probably be the best place to find bands,” Jonathan offered as he headed down to join them as well, his arm slipping around Nancy’s waist. “I mean, that’s where Corroded Coffin always played.”

Robin nodded, “I know but we want to host a variety of music. I think The Hideout is pretty heavy stuff. Not that we don’t want that too but it would be nice to do a variety to get more people in.”

Steve snorted, “Yeah. Not everyone wants to listen to a bunch of screaming. Makes my ears want to bleed.”

“You know, Matt works with a guy who’s in a band. They play more acoustic stuff. I could talk to him and see if his friend would want to play at your shop,” you told them.

“That would be great. Like I said, it wouldn't be for a couple months. Probably not until the end of summer but I wouldn’t mind lining up some talent so we have a schedule and are ready to go when it’s time. Plus that would give us some time to figure out logistics.”

“If you’re looking for something Monday through Friday, you could always eventually add a local artisan night too. People who make things could have small displays in your shop and in front of it. From my experience, people love that kind of stuff,” Nancy said. “There’s just something so gratifying about finding that unique something special that you can’t find anywhere else because it’s not mass marketed. You know?”

“That’s not a bad idea, either,” June agreed. “And I love getting to support artists and small business owners. Especially given that I am one.”

“Oh, I wanted to ask, would it be okay if Eli stayed over tonight?” asked Nancy, turning to you. “Jere has been bugging me all day since we were all going to be here together. We rented Space Jam and he refuses to watch it without Eli.”

Steve glanced over at you, eyebrows wiggling suggestively at the thought of the two of you having a night alone. You weren’t used to having Eli gone as much as he was these days. He usually wound up hanging out with one of the gang or having a sleepover at least once a week but you’d learned to appreciate any time you could have alone with Steve.

“Yeah. Absolutely. I’m sure he’d love that.” A soft smile lifted the corners of your mouth as you glanced down the table, watching as the boys took turns shooting straw wrappers at Dustin and Lucas, a skill that Hopper was apparently teaching them. The man was like an over-sized child sometimes.

“Thanks. We’ll bring them both back around lunchtime tomorrow if that’s good for you,” Jonathan said, him and Nancy sharing a smile. “Give you some morning time too, you know, if you need a little extra.”

A couple hours later found you strolling next to June as Steve and Robin argued ahead of you. Everyone had headed home and the four of you decided to walk off some of your food first. You were only able to catch a word here or there of Steve and Robin’s conversation and had no idea what they were arguing about. But considering it sounded playful, you weren't worried. If there was such a thing as platonic soulmates, those two were it. They bickered like siblings but their love for each other knew no bounds. That was obvious to anyone who witnessed their interactions for even a few minutes.

“So, it seems pretty serious with you and Robin,” you observed, hooking your arm through June’s as you walked along the main street.

A smile like a crescent moon curved the raven-haired beauty’s lips, “It is, I think. I’ve been crushing on her for months. I didn’t think she’d ever get the nerve to say anything. I mean, honestly, I wasn’t even sure if she liked me for a while. The girl never made eye contact with me. I knew she was into girls but I just figured maybe I wasn’t her type and she didn't want me to get the wrong impression or something.”

“Oh, she liked you,” you laughed, pausing to look in the window of the general store. Eli had been begging you for the Batcave playset that had come out a couple weeks ago. With his birthday coming up next month, you were going to need to stop in and get it. If you waited too long, it might not be there and you’d never hear the end of it. “She liked you a lot. I just think she was scared to say anything.”

“Obviously. But she’s…I mean, she’s unlike anyone I’ve ever met. She’s so kind and thoughtful. I love the way she rambles when she’s nervous. It’s just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. And those little freckles…I just want to kiss each one.” She giggled. “I often do, actually. It’s only been a few weeks but somehow I just know. I know this is going to be something amazing. I know it’s going to last, you know?”

You curved your lower lip in, nodding as your eyes instantly moved to Steve, “I do know.”

“You sure seem to. You and Steve are the freaking cutest. Anyone watching you two can see it’s something special.”

It was special. It was everything. It was more than you could have ever imagined you’d get in life. After losing it all, you’d never expected to find something this magical again, someone this amazing. You knew exactly what June meant because you just knew. You knew that Steve was it for her. You knew six months from now, six years from now, sixty years from now, the universe willing, that he would still be by your side and you would still be just as deliriously happy.

Robin shoved Steve, his hand coming to her face and shoving her back, both of them laughing. You watched the exchange with amusement. You already loved both of them so much. They had seamlessly been sewn into the fabric that was your life. What girl not only got to have the perfect guy but also the amazing people who came along with him? Sometimes it felt like too much, like you couldn’t possibly deserve this much.

“Are you two talking about us back there?” Robin questioned, walking backwards ahead of them.

“Only good things,” June promised.

“My girl's not complaining about how I don’t hang up my towel after a shower?” Steve asked, spinning around to face them. “Or how I leave little hairs in her sink when I shave? Or how she trips over my shoes because I don’t put them by the door where they belong?”

“I can accept all of those things if you can accept how I hog all the blankets at night,” you replied. “Or how I take showers so hot you feel like your skin is melting off. Or how I always take the last of the coffee and don’t make another pot.”

Steve stopped walking, waiting until you were right in front of him. His arms wrapped around you, hand locking at the small of your back, a gentle kiss pressed against your lips. Those lips, so damn soft. The man always had a ChapStick in his pocket. You knew because you’d run it through the washing machine more than once.

“I can accept every single one of those as long as it means I get to have you,” he whispered, his lips pressing softly against your nose.

“Did we just watch them exchange vows?” teased June. “Because those sure sounded like vows.”

“Seriously, when are you two just going to bite the bullet and move in together?” asked Robin.

Steve’s eyes went wide, zeroing in on you, examining you and you knew why. He was waiting. Waiting for you to sink into the dark abyss of an attack the way you had the last time moving in together had been brought up. You hated the way his body tensed, readying himself to try to pull you out of it. You hated that he assumed you would fall apart at the mention of the future with him.

Because you weren't. You weren't panicking. The two of you spent more nights together than not these days. You had toothbrushes at each other’s places. You had a drawer with a spare change of clothes for those last minute decisions to stay over. He had a thermos in your cupboard for his coffee for work when he woke up at your place.

“Robin, we’ve only been dating for a few months,” Steve urged, darting a warning glance at his friend. “We’re taking things slow.”

Robin guffawed, her head thrown back with loud laughter, “Moving slowly? You sleep at each other’s houses every single night.”

“Not every night,” Steve argued.

“Practically,” she stated. “You already act like a married couple. Aly packs your lunches for work for crying out loud.”

You shrugged, “I mean, I’m already packing Eli’s and mine so I just…”

“I don’t care that you pack his lunch. But if you’re packing lunches, taking turns picking up the kids from school, and sleeping next to each other every single night, what’s the difference if you just go from two houses to one?”

“She’s not wrong,” June agreed. “You’re basically living together in two different spaces. Just sell one. It’s definitely more economically logical. You’d only have one house payment.”

“And if you sell one, you’d have a decent chunk of change. You could use it for…oh, I don’t know…a wedding?” Robin’s eyebrows wiggled tauntingly.

“We haven’t…I mean…we’ve talked but not…” you stammered.

Steve’s hands found yours in an attempt to ground you. Oddly, you didn’t need it. This talk about weddings and living together, talk that used to make your heart run a marathon, that used to suck the air right out of your lungs, wasn’t doing anything. You just didn’t know how to respond. After the hospital incident, you hadn’t really discussed it anymore.

It wasn’t like it wasn’t there, a thought that kept jabbing at your brain every now and then. But you’d been happily just going along the way you were. If he had Jere, you would stay at his place so Jere could have his things. If he didn’t, they stayed at your place. Miles had even gotten comfortable at both houses. The dog was at home at your place, leaving dark hairs everywhere that you could never seem to fully vacuum away. Somehow you always went to work covered in him but you didn’t mind.

But did Steve want to take that step? He’d told you that he hadn’t meant it when he said he liked his space. But the man had been living on his own for a while. He didn’t have to be attached to a child seven days a week. If you moved in together, he would have Eli around all the time. Maybe he wanted to be able to head back to his own place, his sanctuary of peace and solitude.

“Okay Robin. Your suggestions and opinions are duly noted,” Steve said, putting an end to the discussion. “Thanks for the input.”

Robin shrugged, grinning, “Just wanted to get my two cents out there. Voice the idea into the world. Because we both know you two will never do it if left to your own devices.”

____________________________________________________________

Steve stroked your hair as you lay with your head on his chest, the two of you relaxed back on a blanket. A cool breeze tickled his skin, crickets creating a soundtrack for your evening as you enjoyed a moment of quiet together in his backyard. Stars twinkled like diamonds in the night sky, the half moon providing what little bit of light you had.

He felt completely at ease with you right here where you belonged, cocooned in his arms, your hearts beating rhythmically against one another, sharing each other’s warmth to ward off the chill of the early summer evening.

He’d been expecting you to go into a full blown anxiety attack earlier when Robin started talking about moving in together. He’d expected another call to 911 when you'd mentioned marriage. But he’d never been so glad to be wrong. You had taken it in stride. You'd stammered a bit, looked a little nervous, but you hadn’t lost control. It was a small step in the right direction.

Steve hadn’t broached the subject of living together since that night when he almost ruined everything. You were spending most nights and mornings together as it was. It wasn’t enough. He didn’t think it would ever be enough but you seemed to be okay with it and so it was what he would make himself okay with for now. He’d made a silent vow not to push you anymore and he’d stuck to it, waiting for you to let him know when you were ready for the next step.

Had he wondered if you never would be? Of course he had. With your past, your struggles with anxiety, it concerned him that this could be what your relationship looked like forever. You frozen in place, terrified to move even an inch in a forward direction. Him never saying anything for fear of pushing you away. The two of you at a standstill, your relationship never evolving, never changing past two people who dated and stayed over at each other’s places.

Steve had thought you'd fallen asleep until you said softly, “Maybe Robin has a point.”

“Hmm?” he questioned, pulling himself from his thoughts.

You lifted your head, placing both hands over his heart before resting your chin on the backs of them. You took his breath away. Every time you looked at him it was like he had forgotten just how beautiful you were and he was stunned all over again. Every damn time. His fingers slid a strand of hair behind your ear.

“I said maybe Robin has a point,” you repeated, turning your face into his touch, your lips pressing a kiss to the center of his palm.

Steve snorted, “Robin’s never right about anything.” At the look you gave him, he relented. “Okay. Fine. Yeah, she has some great ideas about June’s cafe. I think those things will really help bring in the business. We’ve yet to see but maybe she does have a point.”

“Steve, that’s not what I’m talking about.”

His heart stuttered in his chest. You couldn’t be saying what he thought you were saying, right? No. That was just him getting his hopes up far too high. It had only been a little over a month since that night in the hospital. There was no way you were going from barely able to breathe at the idea to suddenly saying you should move in together.

He swallowed, trying to rein in the desire that was raging in him for you to open your mouth and say those words. Because if you didn’t, the disappointment would come crashing down on him like an avalanche, his heart crushed under the weight of hundreds of tons of rock and rejection.

“So, what are you talking about?” he asked, attempting to keep the hope he was feeling out of his voice.

Your head tilted, your mouth curving into a gentle smile, “I mean, we are practically living together as it is. We’re just doing it in two different spaces. It does seem kind of silly, doesn’t it?”

Steve swallowed hard, nodding, barely trusting himself to reply with more than that. He wanted to grab onto you, pull you into him, kiss you breathless, and beg you to move in together. To choose a place. He didn’t care which. If you wanted to keep your place, that was fine with him. He just wanted you to be in his life, all of it, every day for forever.

“I understand if you’re not ready. I know you’ve probably gotten used to having your own space. I’m sure it’s nice to come home to a quiet house on the days when Jeremiah is with Nancy and Jonathan. So, I’m not pressuring you or anything. I’m just saying maybe it’s something to think about?”

He nodded. Emotion was clogging his throat. He knew he needed to say something. He needed to respond to you but he couldn’t seem to get sound past the lump in his esophagus.

You blinked quickly, burying your head against his chest again as you muttered softly, “Anyway, just a thought. No big deal. I wasn’t saying we have to do it now.”

Jesus Christ, he chastised himself. Open your mouth. Say something. His arms wound around you tighter. Those beautiful eyes, eyes he hoped he was lucky enough to look into for the rest of his life, opened wide. He traced the back of his hand over the soft skin of your cheek.

“Move in with me,” he urged. “Or I’ll move in with you. I don’t care. But let’s move in together.”

Those perfectly pink lips arced up on both sides, “Really?”

“Yes, really. Invade all of my space. I told you, I don’t want space. I don’t want quiet. I don’t want alone. I just want you. You and Eli and Jeremiah. I want you to fill up all the space until there’s none left.”

“Are you sure? You’re not just saying that?”

“Honey, I’ve never been more sure of anything than I am of you,” he said. “I know I want you forever. I know you’re it for me. I don’t need to wait and see. I don’t need time to figure anything out. I’ve known from the moment I saw your face that you were going to be something special in my life. And you are. I want you and everything that comes with you.” He cradled your face in his palms. “I want this face to be the first thing and the last thing I see every day.”

Tears sparkled in your eyes under the light of the moon. “Me too. Maybe it’s quick but I don’t care. I thought I needed to move slowly. I thought I would need time to know if this was right but I don’t. I feel it, so deeply in my bones. You’re right. This is right. I was worried about Eli but I don’t have to be because I am certain. I love you and so does he. It won’t matter if we decide today or six months from now. I will be completely certain it’s you.”

“So, your place or mine?” he asked.

“I…” You paused, inhaling sharply.

“It’s okay if you want to keep your house, honey. My house is just a house. Your house holds a lot of memories for you. I know that. I truly don’t care where I live as long as you and the boys are there.”

“No. I mean…I don’t think I want to keep the house. That house is full of memories but they’re memories from a different life. I want to start fresh. I want to build new memories with you. I don’t need the house to remember. Those memories will always be with me but I’m tired of living with a ghost and that’s what it feels like there. I mean, I should probably talk to Eli about it and see how he feels. But what would you think about buying a new house? Something we choose together? Something where we can create our own history and stories?”

“I think that sounds perfect.”

And it did. A whole new space where you could choose things together. You could slowly make it your own. A house that you would turn into a home by filling it with love and a shared history. A place where you could raise your boys together and then a space for just the two of you when the boys were grown and out creating their own futures. Four walls that would contain all the memories of your years, the happy and the sad, that you would look back on years down the road.

“I love you,” you whispered, beaming from ear to ear.

“I love you, too. God, I love you so much.”

You pushed yourself up, resting both knees on either side of his hips, straddling him under the stars in his backyard. Miles lifted his head from where he lay observing on the deck and Steve raised his hand, his command for stay. The dog released a heavy sigh but dropped his big head back down on his paws.

“You are everything I never thought I could have.” Whispered words as your mouth, hot and sweet, covered his, your tongue teasing, flicking and brushing over his lips, teeth, and tongue. “You are a damn dream, Steve Harrington and I hope I never wake up.”

Your words, transmitted on your breath from your mouth to his, traveled throughout, spreading, inhabiting every single space. His hands ran over your body, grabbing and squeezing, as he made a vow to himself to keep you feeling like that. To ensure you never woke up, never looked around and doubted your choice right here on this blanket, never was disappointed to find the dream wasn’t your reality.

You ground your hips over him and hissed at the feel of rock hard denim pressing over your clit. One hand slid up your shirt, taking your breast in his palm, while the other slid underneath your skirt, grabbing a handful of your ass. You rocked harder against him, whimpering when he sucked your bottom lip into his mouth between kisses.

Steve sunk into your mouth, taking the kiss even deeper, his tongue exploring, gliding and dancing over yours. His hand on your ass grabbed onto the lacy fabric covering your hip, his fingers wrapping around it, wanting to tear it off of you and bury himself to the hilt right now.

“Should we…?” you tried but gasped when he pinched your nipple, rolling the pert little bud between his thumb and forefinger. “Should we go inside?”

“No, honey…can’t wait…wanna fuck you right here…under the stars…” he mumbled against your skin, sucking and nibbling a path up your neck to your chin. “Wanna have you under me…take you in the moonlight…”

A squeak escaped you when his arms came around your waist, flipping you to your back beneath him. His fists came down on either side of your head, taking in the sight of your wide eyes, parted lips, flushed skin.

“Fuck, you’re so damn beautiful,” he growled, his lips crashing down over yours again as your fingers dove into his hair, your legs locking around his waist as your heat sought out the friction of him again.

“But neighbors,” you protested weakly when his fingers wrapped around the edge of your panties, yanking them down and away, tossing them carelessly somewhere in the yard. “What if someone sees?”

“No one’s gonna see,” he assured you, his lips traveling down your body, lifting your shirt to press open mouthed kisses over the soft skin of your stomach. “Maybe Miles, but he won’t tell anybody. He’s good at keeping secrets.”

You giggled at that, the sound filling his ears, delighting his senses. It was one of his favorite sounds in the world, maybe his most favorite. It was a sound he wanted to cause you to make every single day but it’s not the sound he wanted right now.

Sliding down the blanket, he slipped his head under your skirt, taking your pussy in his mouth, and that’s when he got the sound he wanted. You choked out his name when he sucked on your clit like a throat lozenge. You writhed, whimpered, when he licked you from top to bottom, swirling his tongue over you teasingly.

The taste of you made him feel drunk, his head fuzzy in that delicious way when the world just goes soft. He wrapped his arms around each of your thighs, holding you in place, as he feasted on you. Your back arched, fingers tangling in his hair, as he flicked his tongue over your clit.

“Jesus, Steve,” you groaned, your hips rocking against his face, seeking sweet release.

Fuck, he would never get enough of you. Your taste. Your scent. Your sounds. The way you felt. He could spend the rest of his life buried between your thighs happily and it still wouldn’t be enough.

You were panting softly above him, your chest rising and falling rapidly. Your thighs trembled around his head and he knew you were close to coming undone. Steve wrapped his mouth around your clit and your entire body froze as you cried out his name loudly. He gently lapped at your sweet center, not stopping until he felt you relax beneath him.

“Steve…” Your voice was raspy with lust, your fingers threading through his hair, leading him up your body. He stared down at you, the way your skin glistened under the faint light of the moon, your eyes heavy, your lips curled in a satisfied smile. “I think the neighbors might have heard me.”

He grinned, pressing his forehead to yours, “Let them. Then they all know you’re mine.”

“I am, you know? Yours. Just yours,” you whispered, bringing his mouth to yours again, kissing him deeply.

Those words did something to him, scratching an itch in his brain he hadn’t even known was there before this woman came into his life. Steve worked at his belt, undoing his jeans and kicking them down his legs, needing to be inside of you.

Nestling himself between your legs, he took his cock in his hand, sliding the tip over your clit and through your folds, teasing. You moaned, low and deep, your eyes fluttering as he slipped just the tip in before bringing it back out to run through your slick tauntingly. Your feet slid over his calves, your hands slipping under his shirt, nails running over the skin of his back.

“Steve…stop teasing…” you pleaded.

“Lift up your shirt for me, honey,” Steve told her. “I want to see all of you while I fuck you.”

You obeyed, tugging your shirt up and over your head, leaving you lying beneath him in nothing but your little black skirt and a scrap of lacy pink fabric that was so sheer he could see your nipples, dark pink and hard. He couldn’t take it anymore, his hand grabbing onto your hip as he thrust inside of you, burying himself in your heat.

“Oh fuck, yes…Steve…” you groaned, your nails digging into his flesh.

Jesus, you felt so damn good. He thrust again, sinking even deeper into you if that was possible, both of you moaning. Your legs locked around him, your bodies melding together until he could barely pull out. His hips rocked into you, small movements that kept him sheathed the whole time, his cock dragging over your walls.

“I love you…Jesus Christ, honey…I love you…so fucking good…you feel so fucking good,” he grunted, rutting against you, chasing his own high as he felt you already starting to tremble beneath him again.

“Love…you…” you panted, fingers gripping his shoulders, your mouth catching his for a moment before you broke off, head dropping back. “Don’t stop…please don’t stop…oh god…Steve…right there…I’m gonna…”

His head fell back, riding it out as your pussy clenched down around him, clinging to him as you rode out the wave. He was almost hyperventilating as he thrust into you hard, fingertips digging into the flesh of your hips, his eyes squeezing shut as his own orgasm crashed down over him with force, spilling into you.

His cock throbbed within you as your pussy pulsed around him. He dropped down, his elbows on either side of your head, his hands cupping your cheeks. You looked like a fucking vision glowing and flushed in the subtle light of the moon above them. Your hand came to his cheek, smiling up at him, looking as satisfied as he does after he’s power washed every damn thing outside of his house.

“You’re mine, huh? Just mine?” he teased with a smirk, thumb coasting over the curve of your cheekbone.

You turned into his touch, pulling the tip of his thumb between your lips, “For as long as you want me to be.”

“Careful what you wish for, honey because that’s a long time. I’m thinking forever.”

“Works for me,” you beamed, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, pulling his lips down to yours.

Taglist: @katethetank@roxiehorrorshow@sapphire4082@bakugouswh0r3@frostandflamesfanfic @mix-matchsocks @mushy-mushroom04 @palmtreesx3 @littlebookworm86 @eddies-trailer-babe @cheesewritings @emilyj444 @daisyhollyxox @angelbabyivy @the-fairy-anon @loritate7311 @k-k0129 @antiquecultist

Thanks so much for taking the time to read my little story! 😊 And replies and reblogs are always appreciated if you enjoy it. I love to hear what you think! ❤️❤️❤️ Only one more chapter to go and then this story will come to an end.

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callsigns-haze · 5 months

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Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Y/n 'Haze' Mitchell

Word count: 2.1k

Summary: Y/N and Jake don't hate each other as much anymore…maybe it's time for a date......

Based of the song: Lavender Haze by Taylor Swift

Warnings: Fluff, idk maybe cursing, sexual theme

Part 1 / Part 2/ Part 3

THIS IS NOT PROOF READ SO A LOT OF SPELLING MISTAKES!

I used the script for the Rookie phone call for the call!

Work.

You hated it. Especially if you've been here since 4 in the morning and it's only getting started.

The days till you have to put in the reports on the daggers were coming closer each minute.

It was torture. You didn't mind the whole flying part of your job; you loved it over the moon but the paperwork. Not just any ordinary paperwork. Jake's.

What were you supposed to write. That he's an arrogant, cocky, handsome devil that you'd let him fuck you into next month's Sunday. Yeah, that's definitely off the table.

You haven't seen him since the teasing game of pool and the watch. His watch. It lies on your nightstand. Every single morning you wake up and check the time on his watch.

You have a phone right beside you. Two centimeters away from your hand but because it's his… That's why you use it.

Days like this are slow. Probably the slowest in existence. You're buried in piles of paperwork and files.

Right now you're working on Paybacks. His abilities are top notch and his biggest priority besides the mission's aim is to get his WSO home, to him that's more important than himself.

You're about to fall asleep while there's a loud but sudden knock on the office door.

"It's open," you say waked, straightening your uniform quickly and elegantly sitting back into the chair.

"Well hello, angel," that Texan accent you could recognize from miles away. In his voice there's still some of that morning rasp. It's only quarter to 9 but for you it's like 6 in the evening.

"Hangman," you say closing over the opened file book and leaning further back into the black leather chair as Jake takes a seat in one of two empty chairs at the other side of the table.

"You say that with such disappointment and disgrace, I seen the way your eyes lit up when my presence entered," he smirks, his tone is more smooth now, more awake, happy, illuminated.

"I'd be happy if a rodent came in here at this point, but I see that one just entered," you smirk.

"Oh you little bitch, daddy thought you no manners?" He says cocking his head to the side, that smirk of his own coming onto his face.

"I'm working on your file right now, Bagman. Wanna call me a bitch again?" You say getting up, placing the file book onto a shelf and bring a stack of papers with it.

"You know I mean a bitch as a good thing, right? Like a compliment!" Ridiculous that's what he is and you can't help but smile at this. He never changed and never will. He's a Seresin after all.

"Nice try. Now what do you need?"

"You."

"What?" You squeak out, turning around from the shelf to see the crossed legged devil himself looking up at you.

He gets up which causes you to take a step back, your back hitting off the shelf making yourself cornered as he moves forward and holds out his arm onto the side of the shelf and leans into you.

"Since you're about to end our little check-in and might move to another station, I wanna take you on a date," he says, those green eyes in line with yours, height difference non existing to him.

He caught you wayyyyyyyyyyy of guard. Jakob Thomas " Hangman " Seresin the second just asked you out and you're too stunned to answer.

Wow. You weren't expecting this, today or even ever.

"Shit, sorry if I came on too strong there. I had a while entire plan and everything but I just haven't been able to spend time with you for so long and in always wanted to take you out bu-" you cut him off with placing your finger on his lip making him look down at you but all you do is smile.

He gently grabs your wrist and removes your finger if those delicate, rosy lips of his and he continues.

"It's just ever since I saw your dad at the Hard Deck, for some reason I thought you'd be with him. I know that's ridiculous, your not a child anymore but I just wanted to see you again, talk maybe, I don't know," he says which makes you beam even more.

He just told you that you were on his mind after all this time. Even before you came back to top gun. You were on his mind. Now that's just pure wow.

"If you really wanted to talk with me so bad, you could've asked my dad for my new number," you place your hand on his cheek, the heat of your palm against those calmed features feels right.

"I know but I wanted to see you in person," he admits, leaning in forward, distance barely exists anymore. You can feel his breath against you and those lips were so close. With just a lean they could be against yours.

"Well cowboy, take me out on your date then."

"Free tonight?"

"Tonight"

--------------

"So..." Javy wiggled his eyebrows. "Tonight's the big date night, right? Are you hyped?"

"Yeah." He tried to say it confidently but the crack in his voice sold him out. He sighed and slouched his shoulders. "I'm nervous."

"Why? It's not like you guys haven't gone out before."

"It's not the date I'm nervous about..." he admitted. "It's what could happen when we get back."

"Oh?" Javy responded with a suggestive tone and an eyebrow raised. "Since when is that something you worry about? I know it's been a while but we were roommates at one point. I'm well aware that you have plenty of experience. And it's not like you've never done it with her before."

"Jesus Javy"

"Well then my advice would just be to go for it and whatever happens, happens. I'm sure it's been a while for her too. She's probably just as nervous. Just enjoy each other; you guys have been waiting too long for this just to let some dumb nerves get in the way."

"I guess you're right," Jake sighed.

------------

You dug up half your wardrobe not finding anything to wear. Every outfit just doesn't seem right. With another sigh you keep digging through more clothes as your phone rings.

"Hi. I'm almost there."

"No. No... No, you're not."

"No, I'm not. Sorry. Um, are you?"

"No! Uh... Does this restaurant have a dress code?"

"Uh... no. I mean, you could wear cargo shorts if you wanted."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I mean, what does it matter, as long as you're comfortable?"

"Nice try. That was clearly a test. ( Laughs ) And you should know better than to test the master."

( Scoffs ) "What are you wearing?"

"Yeah, um, I don't know yet, but I do have a lot of outfits that I am not going to wear, so... Well, we are running low on time."

"Traffic's getting ugly."

"Yeah, totally. I... It's silly. I just need to make a decision..... Uh, yes. The green dress. It is decided."

"Great. Well, I-I'll see you soon."

"Okay. Bye."

'No. Oh, my God.' definitely not the green dress.

--------------

"You look beautiful," he says as you both are enjoying your meals. He looks handsome, with the hair slipped back and white t-shirt.

"And you look equally as handsome," you say taking a sip of the red wine you were served. The professional man is gone and instead it is the eyes of one who loves deeply. If it were anyone else you would drop your gaze, but with him you're drawn in closer, always wanting more. Then he says the words you need to hear, "We're ok, you and me. Okay?" You just nod, taking in every moment for your memory, knowing it is the medication you need to survive the next few days. In all the world there isn't another like him, or you for that matter; you are two souls who feel like once upon another reality we were soul mates, eternal flames. "Why did it take you so long to ask me out?" you ask, catching him way off guard.

"What?" He did not expect you to ask that, not now not ever. He's shocked that you did ask about it.

"Oh Jakob, from the moment I walked into the hard deck I knew that you wanted to fuck me."

"I did not." He held his hands up to his chest like a sign of fake offence.

"You sure did!"

"Haze, I did not." He says moving closer to you in the booth you sit in and the distance between the two of nearly doesn't exist. "Well I think you definitely did," you say as you feel his breath on you and still continue to annoy him.

You're trying to be indifferent. It doesn't do to let someone with an ego like his know how much power he has. You don't lean in, don't make it easy or seem too keen. Then he brushes your hair back from your shoulder and moves in so close you can feel his lean body pressed up against you. You feel his warmth and already your mind has placed your lips together.

But instead he leans in to caress your neck, slow and gentle. He's making you wait and you can hardly bare it. You want his lips now, you want his kisses. Then he cups your face in his hands and gives you what he knows you want.

His kiss is not at all the same as those movie stars, but one steeped in a passion that ignites. It is the promise of realness, of the primal desire that lives in us all. And with it he tells me that he is awake, connected within, that he embraces himself rather than hide as a copy of those romantic idols.

"That was wow," you say subconsciously as he smirks, putting a loose strand of hair behind your ear. He's such a gentleman and he's doing everything to make you fall for him more.

"It sure was," he says smirking leaning in for another kiss but your phone ringing interrupts.

"It's nothing." You say looking down at your phone as he takes his hand off your cheek.

"You sure?" he ask with a look that tells you he doesn't mind if you answer or not. He always didn't mind things like this, he always approved.

"I'm sure," you say leaning in kissing him again. You both forget the people around you, each consumed in the other. A small smile spreads over his lips and his face comes closer to yours slowly. His nose nudges yours gently making you giggle and his smile widens before he finally presses his lips to yours tenderly. His hands hold you close, your chests pressing together and keeping you warm as he kisses you slowly and tenderly, wanting to savor the moment.

"I'll get the bill and we'll leave," he says, feeling like the two of you are done in the restaurant for the night.

"Nah-ah, I'm paying," you say reaching into your wallet but he gently grabs your wrist.

"I wouldn't be a gentlemen if I let you pay," he says lifting your gaze and smirks.

"Jake, you're forgetting I know you. You're far from a gentlemen. And I never let people pay for me on the first date," you say getting up and getting out of the booth the two of you sat in.

"What about on the second date?" He asks cheekily.

"Who said anything about a second date?" You answer sheepishly.

--------------

"You know I loved tonight," you say as the two of you stand in front of your apartment.

"I loved tonight to," He says smiling down on you.

"Jake..."

"Mhhmmmm?"

"I'm so sorry for all the pain I've caused you. You probably don't want to talk about it, but...After that night with everything going on, I felt so dead in the inside because I knew already how bad I hurt you. I didn't expect for you to forgive me and I guess I felt even worse when you did. I blamed everyone and everything, but myself and for that I'm truly sorry. I wont ever in life do it again. I also know that my promises haven't been very credible, but if I ever hurt you like this again-I want you to never come back to me, okay?" you asks, he bending down to kiss your forehead. He nod his head. He couldn't help, but feel touched by this. You finally opened up to that night. He finally got a look into your head.

"Angel, whatever happens in between us, I'm never letting you go again okay."

"Okay..."

A/n: And this is the fourth post for Haze and Hangman! Please reblog this post and give them love! Please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist and follow this blog since we're only getting started!

Tagging some friends:

@callsign-magnolia

@shanimallina87

@callsign-dexter

@rosiahills22

@horseslovers2016

@djs8891

@hookslove1592

@emma8895eb

@hardballoonlove

@kmc1989

@dempy

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all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney · 3 days

Text

James (Paul McCartney x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Hello! I've decided I have to make a chapter fic for Paulie because I'm in love with him. There are gonna be at LEAST 6 chapters in this fic, so there will be plenty more coming! Stick around, like and comment, and let me know if you want to be tagged when I release more chapters of this!

I want to personally thank my editor @strawb3rri-le for helping me make these ideas come into fruition. Literally cannot do this without you <3

Summary: Paul meets a pretty girl in the library one day, and is elated to find out she is oblivious to who he actually is.

This fic is written in third person from Paul's perspective, which is kind of different to how I normally write my x readers, so it might be a little jarring to read at first, but I just wanted to try something a little different :)

WARNINGS: I'm not certain I wrote any curse words in this one, but I'll say there is just to be on the safer side. Mentions of mushrooms/ fungi; not drug-related, but I figured I'd add that because some people don't like them. I use Y/n like 4 times in here around the end it drives me nuts, but it has to happen. I don't think there's much else.

This one is pretty safe, if I could rate it lower I would, but I'll mark it at T just to be on the safe side.

Paul could have watched the heavy raindrops hit the window pane for hours and hours. the grey clouds drifting in the sky above brought nothing but heavy showers to the streets of London that dark afternoon...

But that's not what he came to the library for.

He came here for some peace and quiet.

He wanted to get some more songwriting done, but the apartment didn't seem to be the place for it that day, and everywhere else just appeared to be crawling with girls. As much as Paul liked girls, he didn't want to be noticed, because then his day would have simply consisted of him trying to escape the hoards that would have started chasing after him.

The library felt like it made the most sense. People were there to read, study, keep to themselves; not to socialize with others and be loud. As long as he found a little private area to sit, he knew he wouldn't be bothered at all. He also figured, if he couldn't come up with any song ideas, he had tens of thousands of books to refer to for inspiration.

And that was the situation Paul was in at that moment. He'd been sitting in his little study nook for a while now, just staring blankly at his notebook, or out the window next to him. Usually the words came flowing from his mind, translated by his hand and onto the paper, yet that particular day, nothing seemed to be inspiring him.

He rose to his feet after a while, notebook shoved under his arm as he wandered off into one of the aisles nearest to him. He wasn't looking for any book in particular. Sometimes he'd just pull one off the shelf, flip to a random page, and read a random sentence in the middle of the text. If it seemed to be interesting enough to inspire even a single line in a song, Paul would use it. If not, off to the next book.

He began to do just that, with older books with worn spines, and newer books with colourful covers. Unfortunately, even after the fourth or fifth book he pulled from the aisle he was in, no inspiration seemed to manifest from what he was reading. He sighed as he pushed the book he was holding back into its place on the shelf before he made his way to the next aisle over.

Paul began repeating what he was doing before, reaching for a book, and flipping through the pages. This particular book, he cut three separate times, and not one sentence seemed to draw any kind of innovation for his songwriting.

Once again, Paul shoved the book back onto the shelf. As he stared ahead at all of the different pieces of literature before him, one book in particular seemed to catch his eye. It was green, with gold accents on the bevelling as well as the raised parts of the spine. Without a second thought, he reached up for it, only for his fingers to come into contact with someone else's.

Paul drew his hand back and glanced to his right, where a young woman about his age stood. He held his breath, fully expecting an overreaction from her at his presence.

Instead, she smiled awkwardly at him, her hand also drawn back close to her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were after that one," she explained gently, and Paul blinked, raising a confused eyebrow before looking back to that specific book. After a moment, he pulled it down off the shelf and examined the cover, the golden text embossed into the front cover reading 'Europe's Most Common Mushrooms, and Fungi: A Field Guide'.

"Do you like learning about Mycology as well?" She asked curiously, and Paul's gaze shot up to her face, eyes squinting a little at her question.

He was half confused on what she was honestly asking him, but he was also kind of surprised she wasn't pointing and shouting at the fact that she found a Beatle in public.

"... Mycology?" He asked back sheepishly, and her awkward smile warmed up a little at his question. She pointed at the book cover before responding with another question. "You know, the study of mushrooms, and fungi?"

Paul's eyes dropped back down to the book before cracking it open and flipping to a random page as he was doing with all the others. A beautifully illustrated picture of a mushroom with a porous underside presented itself to the young man, and his eyebrows furrowed at the image.

"That is a Boletus Edulis," she explained quietly to him. "It's a tasty gourmet mushroom found in Europe, as well as in North America."

Paul looked back up to her briefly before returning to the book and flipping to another page, a red capped mushroom with white spots being the next image to catch his eye.

"Ooh, and that one there is an Amanita Muscaria, also known as the Fly Agaric. It received its name back in the day because grinding it up and putting it in window sills and doorways would repel flies from entering your home."

"... You sure know your mushrooms, huh?" Paul asked carefully, rather impressed with the few bits of information provided to him by this stranger.

"It's definitely a good hobby to get into. Nothing beats going out onto the trail and foraging them for dinner." She paused briefly before adding, "I mean... the boletes are fine, but perhaps not the amanitas."

Paul closed the book up again before taking a final glance at the front cover.

"I'm uh... sort of grabbing books at random, looking for something inspiring. There needn't be a reason to hang onto this if you need it," Paul explained, presenting it to her so she could take it, and her fingers accidentally brushed against his once again as she took it from him.

The graze was so gentle, yet Paul felt his cheeks warm up at the contact. She was awfully pretty, he decided to himself in silence as he watched the look of joy on her face appear when she flipped the book open herself. She stopped on a page containing a drawing of a white mushroom dripping black ink at its edges.

Paul couldn't help but double take the image. To think there was so much about the world he didn't know a thing about... it made him feel so small, and insignificant.

She must have noticed his gaze on the page, and figured she'd teach him about one more specimen. "These ones," she began, with a rather excited exhale, turning the book Paul's way so he could see, "are Shaggy Mane mushrooms. They are edible and good, as long as you haven't consumed alcohol for a few days prior to, and post consumption. Then they'd be quite toxic."

She smiled at the tidbit and looked up to Paul's face, nose crinkling a little. "Isn't that just the neatest thing?"

Paul couldn't believe what he was hearing. He never really thought about mushrooms before. Sure, he'd seen brown and white ones before in the grass, or growing on trees, but there was something about the way she relayed the information with such passion, that just made it so interesting to him. It was unlike anything he ever experienced before.

"... You have a very natural way of describing this sort of stuff," Paul expressed, nodding his head to her positively. "I honestly never realized there were so many different ones."

"Oh, what I've told you doesn't even scratch the surface of the world of Mycology," she explained, the smile only growing on her face, and Paul couldn't help but smile back at her.

"... I should really leave to let you continue on with what you were doing," she said after a moment. "I do appreciate you listening to my ramblings. I know I can sometimes get carried away with this sort of stuff," her smile fell away a little. "Not many really care about fungi, so it's nice to talk about my interests with someone who's willing to listen."

Paul's own smile began to falter, rather upset that such a pleasant conversation, with such a pleasant person, had to end so soon. He hadn't encountered such a normal discussion in so long. Not that a conversation about mushrooms and fungi was normal, but Paul felt it was just so refreshing talking about anything but him and his fame.

"... well, I rather enjoyed what you had to say," he admitted lightly, an undeniable blush flourishing from the woman's cheeks as she appeared to smile again, a little brighter than before.

"Well... thank you, again. You're very kind," she repeated, waving her hand kindly as she turned on her heel and wandered off to the next aisle.

Paul's eyes watched her round the corner, and he stood there in disbelief. There was so much for him to unpack in his thoughts in that very moment.

She had to have been one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen; minding her own business in a library by herself, and doing something she really enjoyed. Her intelligence on the subject showed through her excited rambling, which Paul could have listened to for much, much longer.

Her voice was so pleasant, happiness apparent in her words as she described every species effortlessly, as if she'd known it all since the day she was born. It left him wanting to hear more from her.

But the cherry on top of all of this, was that she didn't even acknowledge Paul as anything but another human being. Not some big musician with whom she obsessed over just because of his looks. For someone who remained so calm, and pleasant in conversation, Paul was certain she had no clue who he actually was.

And he loved that.

As much as fame brought excitement to his existence, Paul couldn't deny that the concept of a simple, normal life with someone who loved him for him, and not his popularity to the public, was something he seemed to yearn for more often as of late.

He loved the idea of being a nobody, especially to someone he wanted to be somebody to.

He looked over his shoulder to the empty space where that green and gold book once sat, deciding to reach for the one sitting next to it. It happened to be another book on mushrooms and fungi, but it had a lot more words in it than images. He flipped to the middle of the book and read the fist word he saw.

Symbiosis.

He felt dumb staring at the word. He knew there was only one person he could ask to inquire about what it meant. He glanced up through the bookshelves, eyes searching through the gaps of the works to find her.

She only happened to be in the next aisle over, scanning the book titles off the spines above her head carefully, too in her own world to notice Paul's obvious staring through the shelving units. She pulled a book down and read the summary on the back, Paul watching her eyelashes flit lower and lower as she absorbed the words like a sponge in water.

He noticed that as she read, her lips gently mouthed each word, and he soon found himself stuck in a trance. He observed how her tongue poked out between her teeth to mouth words with the letter L, and how her lips would press tightly together as she read words containing B, and M.

Who would have thought, Paul wondered, something so small could be so hypnotizing?

She made a small face of approval to the book before stacking it on top of the green one she was given by him, and she headed over to an empty table in the corner of the room. She faced towards the shelves, back to the wall so she could see the whole library from her spot.

Despite this, as soon as she made herself comfortable, she was solely focussed on the books, and her dominant hand wrote out her notes almost romantically, notebook pages filling effortlessly with information that brought her joy.

Paul was absolutely mesmerized by her movements. Screw the rain, he could have watched her for hours. He couldn't get over the little flick of her wrist when she ended a point, or the wonderful silent motion of her lips reading out the words.

She drove him mad in the best kind of way.

She flipped to the next page in her notebook, and Paul came back down to earth, realizing then just how creepy he must have appeared, standing close to the shelf, and peering through to the other side to watch the woman simply minding her own business from afar.

His shoes felt like they were filled with cement, but he worked up enough courage to slowly move towards her table, opting to stand by a nearby shelf and stare blankly at the spines as to not look so awkward.

What would I even say to her? was the only thought at the forefront of Paul's mind, the black mushroom book still in his hand, one of his fingers wedged between the pages to mark where that silly word was. He knew he was going to ask her about it, but he needed to smoothly segue into it, somehow.

This situation was rather a bother to Paul. He felt conflicted as to why he seemed so nervous about approaching her. He was a flirt, and he loved making girls feel giddy, why would this stranger be any different?

He was close enough that he could have called for her attention, but her focus was faithfully undivided, completely oblivious to Paul standing only fifteen feet away from her, trying to muster up the nerve to say something, anything.

After talking to her for only a minute and a half, and having parted ways for not even five more, Paul found himself deprived of her voice, longing to hear anything roll off her tongue, as long as it were to him. He was pining to have her attention so badly, but standing and admiring her from only a couple of steps away was only going to get him so far.

His palms were sweaty, and he wiped them on his pants haphazardly as he took a deep breath. He took one more second to nod his head positively for motivation, and he stepped out into the open, facing her completely. His heart pounded in his chest, but he pushed himself to take one more step forward. And that happened to be enough for her to notice.

The stranger raised her gaze up to Paul, the look of neutral concentration on her face softening into a pleasant smile.

Just that made Paul weak in the knees.

"Find anything inspiring yet?" She asked him in a friendly tone, eyeing the book in his hand as his thoughts flatlined. He didn't expect her to speak first. On the one hand, he was relieved that it indicated she was okay with talking to him, but on the other, it put him off-script, and now he had to actually use his brain to initiate discussion.

"I uh..." he struggled for a moment, glancing down at the book in his hand, as well.

"If I'm going to be quite honest... you talking about mushrooms so passionately was pretty inspiring. It's all I can think about."

The woman's eyebrows arched in surprise, a gentle dusting of pink spreading over her nose as she took in his words. She toyed her bottom lip between her teeth, and Paul couldn't help but drop his gaze for just a second to admire her mouth.

"You know, I'm really flattered that you said that," she expressed gently. "That means a great deal to me. Thank you."

Paul couldn't even feel his legs now, basking in her praise, as a flower would to the rays of sun on a warm spring day.

"... I couldn't help but grab another book like the one you're reading," he explained, lifting it up to show her, and the apples of her cheeks rounded as she smiled even wider. Paul hadn't ever recalled seeing such a beautiful face before.

"I... I saw a word I don't know. I think you're the only person who can help me." The confession made Paul feel a little self-conscious; he didn't want to seem entirely stupid in front of her, but she really didn't seem the type to make fun of him over something like this, and really damage his ego.

Without a word, she pulled the chair out next to her as a silent indication for Paul to take a seat, and he took the offer graciously. He set his notebook down onto the table, and then opened the book to where his finger marked the page cut. She leaned in a little to peer down at the text, and he pointed to the word, realizing only seconds after just how close she was to him. He could smell the faintness of her body wash, and it made his head swirl.

"... This one." He mumbled, watching her in his peripheral as she read the sentence in her head, and physically mouthing the words as her eyes tracked each letter.

"Ah, symbiosis. It basically means two different organisms are benefitting off each other in some way or another. We would be a good example of this, right now," she offered, tilting her head up to look at Paul, who's ears burned hot at the eye contact, but he kept strong and held it for as long as she wanted to look at him.

"You're keeping me pleasant company, and in return, I'm helping you learn about fungi." He thought her point was going to end there, but she quickly added on, "from a natural standpoint, fungi and trees have a symbiotic relationship. If it weren't for the millions of miles of fungal network underground, connecting all the living organisms together, plants wouldn't be able to communicate to each other, or convert their energy from one to the other to achieve optimal growth."

"So... everything would die without fungi?" Paul asked slowly.

"I believe so," she nodded her head. "They play a role in every step of a plant's life. Take a tree, for example."

She slid the green and gold book over to sit between them, and she flipped through the first few pages until she found a diagram of a tree's life cycle, pointing to the images as she rambled on.

"Fungi help them establish strong roots when they're young. Some fungi actually provide nutrients in the soil for the trees to use as energy to grow tall and strong."

She turned her gaze back to Paul. "Even at the end, if a mother tree is dying, she will begin to use the fungal networks below to disperse her energy to her kin, sacrificing herself so they can grow, instead. They use the networks underground to communicate in their own special way."

The young man appeared to be in a dream-like state, head in his palm as he looked on in favour of her words. But when he noticed she stopped speaking after a while, he blinked, finding she was smiling a little awkwardly again, as if she'd asked him a question.

"Hm?" He asked, propped hand dropping to the table. He felt rather guilty his attention diverted.

"... I'm boring you, aren't I?" There was a hint of sadness in her words, a weak smile at her lips, and Paul shook his head quickly.

"No, no! Believe me, I'm listening." He thought for a beat, face going warm again as he confessed, "I just... I really love the sound of your voice. You have a way with words, and I did get a little distracted by that." The young woman's face fell expressionless, and Paul continued.

"I may be rather daft on the subject, but there's just something in the way you talk about it that makes learning about it so much more enjoyable. Please, don't stop talking."

She opened her mouth to say something, but she shut it as she pondered what to respond to Paul with. Her face was flushed, and she was holding back a grin, which ultimately made Paul a little confident considering he was the one that made her flustered.

"... You probably say that to all of the girls you talk to," she finally replied, eyes casting down to the books to hide her blush, and he couldn't help but bite back a smile of his own.

"Well, none of the other girls I know are quite like you," he stated with poise, eyes still locked in on her, hands clasping together as he noticed her blush deepen, and a smile finally breaking through.

Paul then attempted to downplay such a strong interaction. Despite talking to her the way he wanted to, he didn't want her to be uncomfortable with how forward he felt he was being.

"What does your boyfriend think about your hobbies?" He asked. "He must be so proud, and fascinated by how passionate you are about all of this stuff, surely."

She looked back up to Paul, her smile weakening a little. "Boyfriend? Oh I uh..." she cleared her throat. "I don't... I don't have one of those."

Paul's eyebrows lowered a little. "... As in you just got out of a relationship?" He tried to clarify, to which she shook her head.

"As in I've never really... had one." She had a sheepish look on her face, cheeks now red out of embarrassment rather than flattery. Her response sent Paul's eyebrows shooting up in surprise, to say the least.

"... Never?" He repeated in disbelief. She pressed her lips together in a line tightly, shaking her head once again.

"This," she gestured to the books with her hand, "is my life. It has been my life since my early teenage years. Mushrooms and fungi are... strange, and because I like them, I guess that makes me kind of strange, as well."

Her self-dejecting statement made Paul feel bad. In his mind, someone like her not being taken, though washing the feeling of relief throughout him, didn't add up at all. Not even her fascination in mushrooms made her odd, in his eyes.

"... If it means anything to you, I think you're just absolutely lovely," he said, watching as her lip pressed into a little pout as she regarded his words.

"I'm telling you... every guy out there has no idea what they're missing out on."

Paul desperately wished he could read minds; especially hers. She didn't speak, and Paul assumed that the was simply trying to grasp for some words to say. If he were in her position, he wouldn't have known what to say, either.

"For once in my life, someone has actually made me speechless," she confessed, huffing a sigh as she rubbed one of her cheeks, as if that would have made her blush disappear.

"I want to tell you thank you, but that doesn't feel like nearly enough," she explained. "Honestly, your girlfriend is very lucky to have such a charming boyfriend. You have a way with words, yourself." Her comment made Paul laugh, but only once. Inside his chest, his heart was doing somersaults, but he was trying his hardest to keep his composure.

"What girlfriend?"

The woman gasped at his response. "You lie," she accused, yet Paul knew it was all in good nature by the smile on her face. "Even if you were, with a face like that, there's no way you don't have girls chasing after you all the time."

How the tables have turned, Paul thought; a little excited he found himself in the same spot as her only moments after he made the same mistake. Part of him wanted to respond to her with something witty, like "who says I don't?", but the other part of him didn't want that to arouse any questions that would segue into a conversation regarding his job.

He couldn't risk having her know everything, and fall for the idea of him.

"I guess I just... haven't found the right bird yet." He figured that was another truth he could hold by without entirely lying to this poor woman.

"That's fair. Well, whoever has the pleasure of ending up with you is a very lucky woman, indeed." Paul's cheeks darkened again, the compliment making his fingers feel a little numb. He noticed her eyes drifting to the window above his head before she suddenly closed her books shut.

"The rain's stopped. This has been a rather lovely conversation, but I do apologize. I must be leaving now."

Paul felt his stomach drop, and his mouth fell agape, watching worriedly as she gathered her belongings and rose to her feet.

"What-- you're leaving? Right now?"

He felt the same way he did back in the aisle when she cut the conversation short, full of disappointment that it all had to come to an end again.

"I was on my way to my parents' house before the rain started," she explained with a lopsided smile. "I'm helping my mother prepare for dinner tonight, but the rain was so bad, I figured I'd spend some time in here while I waited for it to die down. And I'm very glad I made that decision."

Paul nodded his head, realizing the last part of what she said alluded to making his acquaintance. He also found he couldn't be upset at such a wonderful gesture of kindness, her going to her parents'. "That is very sweet of you to do that for her," he said gently, standing up as well before she disappeared again.

"Before you go," he started, feeling hot beneath the collar as he tried to gather a little bit more courage to speak, her expecting eyes on him making him rather anxious.

"I would like to keep in contact with you," he paused briefly, "only if you want. I just... I've had a really pleasant time talking with you, and learning about your interests, and I would very much like to do all of this again."

Her cheeks rounded out again as her smile widened a little more-- Paul couldn't get over that damned smile of hers.

"You know... I would like that a lot," she finally answered, glancing down at her notebook before flipping to the last page and ripping it out. She folded it in half, and then tore it at the line, handing Paul one of the halves while she began writing on the other one. Paul watched with a pounding heart as she scratched out her phone number, and he began to do the same.

When they exchanged the papers, Paul examined the number she provided him, and then read the name she printed above it, a smiley face drawn next to it. he tried his best to concealing his excitement within.

"Y/n..." he mumbled thoughtfully, eyes casting back up to look at her. She laughed a little as she flipped the paper in her hand to show Paul, which only contained his phone number.

"That's me, but what am I to call you, exactly?"

This is where Paul found himself in another dilemma. He wanted her to call him Paul, but he also didn't want her putting two and two together if she recognized his name. He didn't want to entirely lie to her, either.

That's when a light bulb went off in his head. He realized the greatest loophole, and solution was staring him right in the face.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Paul reached for the paper again, scribbling his name at the top. But he wasn't using 'Paul'; he decided he was going to use his real first name.

"You can call me James," he explained, handing the paper back to her. She surveyed the name at the top of the paper before looking back up to him.

"Finally, a name to a face," she hummed in content. She then offered a hand out to Paul, to which he took so they could shake and say their farewells.

"It was an absolute pleasure meeting you, James."

It was the first time in a very long time Paul had been called that by anyone. He figured he would have hated the sound of it leaving her lips, but instead, it made his heart flutter. His face felt hot again, and it was apparent y/n could see the flush of his skin, because she smirked a little.

"The pleasure is all mine, Y/n. Please be safe." He finally let go of her hand, waving good bye as she did so as well, turning on her heel once again, and heading to the counter with her books to sign them out.

She slid Paul's phone number into her notebook as she walked away, and Paul just stood there for another moment as he watched her leave. He was was still feeling so many emotions now that he was alone, unable to help himself reaching back down to the piece of paper she gave him. He ran his fingers over her name and smiled a little to himself.

"Y/n..." her name was like a breath of fresh air to him. When he looked back up to catch one more glimpse of her, she was already gone. It made him feel a little empty, but when he noticed she left the black mushroom book for him, he felt just a little warmer inside.

Paul reached for the book, sliding her number into the pages, and deciding he was going to sign it out and try to learn a little on the subject. If they ever planned to meet in the future, he could try and impress her with some of the information he learned.

He didn't end up getting what he was looking for at the library, but he felt he was leaving with something he needed.

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A/A/N: Okay, I hope yous enjoyed that! Part 2 will happen as long as I have people requesting it. I have ideas, I'm just missing supporters<3

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createserenity · 4 months

Text

Ficlet - A Time of Wanting

I've had some writer's block recently and have been making super slow progress with my wips. Then I saw these lovely kiss drawings by @mrghostrat and ended up being very inspired and writing not one but two new stories. The other is below if you're interested:

Thank you so much Bilvy for making such lovely artwork! (Also their Good Omens AUs are incredible, if you haven't read them I highly recommend them!) This is a ficlet inspired by the fifth kiss in the collage (this one). It's basically Crowley being silly and soft. (Set post an imaginary season 3 where they've saved the world and are talking again.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here on AO3 - or below

A Time of Wanting

Crowley wants.

He wants so badly and he's wanted for so long that it's a physical ache in his chest now.

He wonders how he's not broken in half with the sheer force of his wanting. He wonders how Aziraphale doesn't notice how much he wants. Surely it should be a tangible thing now, this longing that pulses through him every moment of his existence. This urge to reach out, to touch, to take.

But it seems it isn't, because Aziraphale is busy reshelving books, apparently oblivious to the demon sprawled out over the couch. He hasn't even noticed that Crowley has woken from the nap he was taking, hasn't noticed that Crowley feels as if he could shake apart with the sheer force of his emotions.

How has he survived this long without taking this silly fussy angel for his own? How has he survived without knowing his touch, his taste, the way the angel might look at him if he finally dared to do what he longed to do?

His sleep addled brain tries to imagine what those things would be like, it's nothing he hasn't imagined a million times before, again and again over thousands of years. This time though the images his mind conjures are so affecting, so very real, that they draw a whimper from Crowley's throat before he can stifle it, before he can push it down where it belongs so that he can get through another day of wanting.

Aziraphale obviously hears the noise because he turns, despite being atop the small chair ladder he uses to reach the high shelves, balancing precariously with one hand on the shelf as he looks over at Crowley and gives him a soft smile.

It's that smile that does it.

All at once Crowley's entire brain comes back online and suddenly what he thought were his own wild imaginings coalesce into memories. Actual memories. And he realises that he doesn't need to lie here and want without taking anymore. And that ache in his chest isn't his heart about to break apart, but merely where he's fallen asleep with his mobile phone jammed against his ribs.

Fuck he's an idiot.

He flails madly for a moment whilst his brain remembers how to control overly long limbs, and barely hears the clatter as the phone falls to the floor unheeded, but then he's on his feet, bounding across the bookshop.

“Angel.” The word falls from his lips almost reverently as he crosses the space and Aziraphale seems to recognise that there's something amiss, even if he probably doesn't realise just how stupid Crowley can be sometimes.

How could he have forgotten? Six thousand years of longing, and now he can have whenever he wants and his stupid brain can't seem to hold onto that fact.

By the time Crowley has closed the distance between them Aziraphale is on the lowest step of the chair ladder. Crowley slips his arms around his angel's waist, fully intending to bury his head in the softness of Aziraphale's shoulder but instead the movement is arrested by Aziraphale's hands. They come up to rest either side of his jaw, holding him gently, yet firmly in place.

“Crowley. Darling,” says Aziraphale, his tone impossibly fond and yet with that underlying hint of strength, as he searches Crowley’s face with eyes that don't even bother trying to hide their adoration.

And now there is an ache inside Crowley’s chest that's nothing to do with sleeping awkwardly smushed against his phone. This ache is his heart trying to contain too many feelings, too much love. It feels like it's bursting with it.

“Angel.” He breathes out the word softly, as if saying it again might somehow help.

Aziraphale smiles and pulls him closer, one hand slipping from his jaw to wrap around his head, whilst the fingers of the other hand press lightly, tilting his face upwards with a gentle insistence that thrills Crowley to his core.

“You silly thing,” Aziraphale says, as if he knows exactly how daft Crowley was being a minute ago. Crowley thinks he should probably object to that. Snap back a sarcastic comment to the patronising bastard of an angel that knows him far too well, that sees the vulnerability under his carefully crafted exterior.

But then Aziraphale’s lips are on his and all protests fizzle away before they've even made it to his throat.

This is what he has wanted for so long. This is his now. He can ask for this whenever he wants.

He shuffles forward, tightening his arms to mould their bodies closer together, mindful not to pull Aziraphale from his precarious perch. The kiss deepens just slightly and he feels Aziraphale's fingers dancing over his cheek as the angel tightens his hold on Crowley’s head.

There's a soft whimper and then an equally soft moan and Crowley is surprised to realise he isn't responsible for either noise. For a second he flutters his eyes open and focuses on the expression that’s crept across Aziraphale's features. It's open and vulnerable, filled with adoration and love and contentment, as if this is the one thing Aziraphale has always longed for and wants to keep forever.

The realisation, that this means as much to Aziraphale as it does to him, makes Crowley’s heart swell with emotion, even as the ache in his chest is dispelled, dissolving away into a warm fuzziness that seems to wrap around them both.

He lets his eyes drop closed again and leans a little more into the kiss. There’s a hum of contentment and this time he knows it's come from him.

He wanted for so long and now finally he’s exactly where he wants to be.

#good omens #good omens fanfic #fanart inspired fic #ineffable husbands #good omens fanart #no beta - mistakes are all my own fault #crowley loves aziraphale #aziraphale loves crowley #fluff #my writing

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cookiesuga55 · 6 months

Text

Subscription Gainer

Gainer Jungkook has a subscription to a weight-loss tips magazine... just so he can do everything they suggest in reverse. He gets so excited every month to get his new book of health tips, food trends, and learn what dietitians say you shouldn't eat... which means Jungkook tries it.

Jungkook happily flips through it across the next few weeks to pick up things that keep his gaining-lifestyle exciting.

"Oh... laying down after eating increases belly fat?" Jungkook moves from sitting to reclining on his couch after chowing down on Chinese takeout, a hand resting on his full belly as he smiles down at it. "You fatten up for me, okay?" He pats his gut and belches, rubbing in bliss.

"Dairy is one of the top foods on the list of 'what wrecks your metabolism'. They say to cut out milk... it's bad for your thighs and waistline." Jungkook puts four big gallons of whole milk in his cart at the grocery store, fully intending on having a thick glass with every meal. He gets blocks of cheese, tubs of yogurt, and a carton of heavy whipping cream just to top it off, humming contently as someone peeks over at his peculiar purchases.

"Someone who drinks 1 to 2 cans of soda a day will expand their waist line five times faster than someone who doesn't..." Jungkook pants as he reads that one. "Thankfully I've got that covered." He takes another swig from his two-liter jug of coke and flips to the next page about combating a sedentary lifestyle, and kicks up his feet.

"Using a smaller plate will make you think that you're eating more, because your plate looks fuller. Limit yourself to only one portion. Oh that'll be fun-" Jungkook piles up food on a massive platter that he serves guests with on holidays and uses it as a plate for himself. He loads it up with a mountain of mashed potatoes, fried chicken, cornbread, and creamy mac n cheese. "It's still only one portion..." He giggles as he sets the feast in his lap and begins to dig in.

"Low-fat foods are loaded with sugar and can actually make you gain weight..." Jungkook frowns as he warily picks up low-fat mayonnaise off the shelf, feeling like he's betraying himself. "I'm putting all of my faith in you, dietitians. If you deprive me of the deliciousness of full-fat mayo-" He turns over the two bottles to compare the nutrition facts and his eyebrows shoot up. Three times more sugar. Jungkook whips out his phone, googling if sugar or fat is worse for weight gain. He grins as he drops the low-fat option into his basket and happily pads away, his tummy warm with the promise of extra poundage.

"Cut out fast food." Jungkook racks up points in his delivery app. The numbers on his scale climb up just as quickly.

"Choose foods that keep you full for longer. Sugar makes you hungry. Stay away from sugary foods late at night." Jungkook drags his carton of ice cream out of the freezer at 1 am, licking his lips as he pops it open. "Sugar and cream. Delicious and so fattening. I love you, ice-cream. Marry me." He groans around his spoon.

"All it takes is a surplus of 200-500 calories a day to see quick results of gaining fat." Jungkook's mouth waters, and his hands come up to slowly squeeze and knead at his flab as he reads aloud. "If you eat an extra 500 calories a day- a few oreos or dessert- it will take 6 days to gain 1 pound of fat." Jungkook groans, greedily grabbing the heavy pooling of blubber resting in his lap that he is growing. He shakes it, wanting to drool as his entire body responds in wobbles. "And how fat will you get by overeating constantly, huh? How fat will I get from one stuffing?" He asks his magazine as his gut growls just at the thought of being stuffed and fattened. Jungkook reaches for his takeout delivery app, cashing in his hard earned reward points as he imagines the hearty feast filling his greedy gut.

Oh, how the dietitians that work so hard to research and make this health magazine would scream if they could see how Jungkook uses it like a holy bible of ways to get even fatter.

#why is this so adorable ;u;

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badsongpetey · 3 days

Text

The Water Guardian (aka Cryptid Keith AU) Part 7

Keith’s cave is, well, Lance wouldn’t call it homey, but it’s not what he was expecting, whatever that was. Set off to the side of the waterfall, still close but far enough away to avoid the spray that surrounds it, the cave is dry, and warm, and remarkably clean. The stone floor smooth and polished from what looks like decades, maybe even centuries of wear.

A simple wooden table and chairs line up against one of the walls, and an equally simple bed piled with a few old quilts stands in the back. There are no pictures on the walls, but carvings made of wood and stone fill alcoves carved out of the stone walls of the cave itself.

Keith raises his hand and a sphere of bluish white light forms over his palm and rises gracefully to hover near the ceiling, illuminating the space fully. Well, that’s convenient.

Keith walks to the back of the cave, and bends over to open a chest at the foot of the bed. “My books are here.” He says by way of invitation.

It feels odd to be in what is clearly Keith’s home, but Keith seems cool about it, so Lance tries to be nonchalant. “Nice, ah, cave.”

Keith grunts and squats next to the chest, lifting out some of the books within.

Lance leans over. The chest is old, but well cared for. A couple dozen hard cover books are stacked neatly inside, next to some smaller carved wooden boxes, some wrapped in old linens.

Lance glances at the spines of the books he can see: There’s Jane Austen, Dickens, H.G. Wells, Jules Verne, Thoreau, Conan Doyle, Mark Twain, Brontë, Lewis Carroll, Bram Stoker. Keith hands Lance a book and he looks down to see it’s an old copy of “Treasure Island”. A really old copy.

He sits down at the small table to examine it. He carefully turns the yellowed pages, not wanting to damage Keith’s prized possessions. This book looks more like an antique than something a person would keep on their nightstand. All the books Keith has look old. Doesn’t look like he has a single author from the 20th century even. Keith said they belonged to his dad, was he some kind of collector?

“Have you read it?” Keith asks him, nodding at the book in front of Lance.

“Huh? Oh yeah,” Lance answers, “I think we read it back in 6th or 7th grade. I remember thinking it would be cool to be a pirate.” He smiles.

Keith hums and returns to sorting through his stash.

Lance takes another good look around the space. Now that he’s thinking about it, everything here looks old. And not the normal “this belongs to my parents or grandparents old”, but an “I found this at an estate sale at some haunted old mansion” kind of old. The only things that don’t look like antiques are the carvings of animals and birds that fill the shelves notched into the walls.

They look hand made, which makes sense, it’s not like there’s a mall nearby. Lance picks up a small wooden rabbit from the shelf next to the table. It’s beautiful work, delicate and realistic, looking like it could hop out of his hand at any moment. Keith clearly has other hobbies besides reading.

As he carefully returns the rabbit to its place on the shelf, he notices something he hadn’t before. A small, faded, sepia toned photo of a young couple in a plain sliver frame. Lance lifts it off the shelf and takes a closer look. The couple is dressed in clothing from over a century ago, and posed formally in what looks like a nice living room. The man is handsome and well built, he looks like he’s no stranger to hard work, but has kind eyes. The woman next to him is tall and beautiful, and, fuck, a DEAD RINGER for Keith.

Is this Keith’s mom? Are these his parents? They can’t be, this photo is ancient! But then so are the books, and everything else.

“Keith? Who are these people?” Lance asks, holding out the photo.

Keith glances over, “My parents.”

His parents? But, how…

“What year was this taken?”

Keith shrugs and turns back to the chest.

“You don’t know?”

“What care would I have for human years?” Keith responds without looking up.

Bah, this idiot is FRUSTRATING. But still, if this photo and the books are as old as they look… “Keith, how long have you been here?”

Keith is idly sorting through the books in the chest, clearly avoiding having to look at Lance. “A while.”

Lance huffs in exasperation, “How much of a while?”

“It’s not important.”

“Humor me.”

Keith sighs, “Maybe, ninety turns of the seasons?”

Lance sits back. NINETY YEARS? Keith’s at least ninety years old! He looks no older than Lance. Of course, he’s not a human, and who knows how long a dragon is supposed to live. Forever?

Still it’s a long time to live in this cave all alone. Geez, has he been alone this whole time? No wonder he wanted Lance to come back.

“Has it always just been you here to guard the waterfall?” Lance asks.

“Mostly.” Keith answers softly, still speaking into the chest.

“Did your mom live here too?”

Keith drops the lid of the chest down with a crash, standing abruptly. “You’ve seen the books, so we’re done here.” He spats.

Oh crap, too far. “I, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t pry. I just wanted to get to know you.”

Keith is silent, glaring at the exit, waiting for Lance to get out he supposes.

“I could get you more books. If you want.” Lance offers, hoping Keith takes it as the olive branch it is.

Keith shifts his gaze to Lance. “More books?”

“Well, you can’t think that this is all there is?” Lance chuckles, gesturing at the chest.

Keith looks down, “I don’t think much about it. This is what I have.”

Lance is suddenly overwhelmed with compassion. Hell, poor kid, stuck out here for a century with the same handful of books to keep him entertained.

“Well, yeah!” Lance smiles, “Of course there are more. Thousands more! Look!”

Lance grabs his phone and thumbs quickly to find his book app, bringing up one of the few downloaded books he has and shoves it in Keith’s face.

Keith squints looking confused, then focuses, his eyes growing wider by the second.

“This is a book??” He points to the phone in astonishment.

Lance nods enthusiastically. “Yup!”

Keith blows out an audible breath as he looks again at the phone. “I don’t know this story.”

“There are a lot of stories you don’t know.” Lance laughs. “But I can bring you them.”

Keith’s eyes are impossibly even wider when he looks back at Lance. “You could get books? For me?”

Lance scoffs, “Yeah, no problem! I’ve got a few and I can stop by the library. Seems like you enjoy adventure and fantasy stories, me too, I’ll bring some back next time I come.”

“Next time?” Keith asks, suddenly shy.

Oh lord, this guy… “Yes, next time. I mean, I’ve been a guest in your… cave, I figure we’re friends now.”

“Friends?” Keith repeats warily.

Shit, did he read this wrong? Just when he thought that maybe he was getting the hang of it. “I mean, if you don’t want me to, I don’t have to…”

“No!” Keith practically yells, “I… I want you to. Come back… bring books…” he looks down, “be friends.”

“Friends then.” Lance confirms with a grin.

#klance #voltron #keith kogane #lance mcclain #vld #water guardian au #dragon keith #klance au

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oliversrarebooks · 9 months

Text

The Rare Bookseller Part 6: Oliver's Cell

Masterlist

September 1925

TW: Imprisonment, mind control, slavery, abuse

Oliver walked behind Cecily, glancing into the cells as he did so. They were small and many, and most had occupants. People laid on cots or stared off into the distance. Some watched him as he passed with sad or fearful or curious eyes. Two people were curled into balls, sobbing. A few seemed glassy-eyed, like the enthralled man behind him. One was even smiling.

They stopped in front of a particular empty cell. The cell on the right side was empty, but the woman in the left cell was looking at him with sharp, intelligent eyes. Cecily opened the door and motioned for him to go inside.

If he tried to make a run for it, could he get past the man standing guard next to him? Would it be worth it?

"Well?" said Cecily.

He stepped into the cell, and the door clicked behind him. There was a thin cot with sheets and a pillow, a faucet with a cup, a chamber pot, and a small wooden crate. The door had a small opening with a shelf, too small for an adult to climb through, likely meant to allow delivery of meals. Next to it was a little iron bell.

"There are a few rules and guidelines for you to know," said Cecily, as if reciting a script. "Meals are three times a night. Use the faucet water for drinking and washing, and use the chamber pot for toilet needs. If you need the chamber pot cleaned, place it on the shelf and ring the bell. You can also ring the bell for attention in case of an emergency, but if you abuse it, you will be punished."

Oliver nodded, trying not to think about the sheer indignity of having to do his business in a chamber pot in a tiny cell.

"Excessive noise is not allowed. Hurting yourself or others is not allowed. Disobeying a vampire is not allowed. When we need to remove you from the cell, you are not to resist, or you will be punished. When the lights are out, those are quiet hours, and disruptions will be punished."

"What's the punishment for breaking these rules?"

"Whatever suits us. This isn't a human prison where you might expect rights. You're our merchandise. Don't forget that," she said. "And now I have to attend to other matters. Be quiet and obedient and you won't be harmed."

Oliver couldn't help but laugh as she walked away. Claiming he wouldn't be harmed was quiet a thing to say when she was a vampire keeping him imprisoned. He walked over to the crate to see what was inside it -- a few old magazines and pulp novels and a ratty deck of cards.

He sat down on the cot and couldn't help but think of home, what he'd normally be doing late at night. The small apartment above his shop was tiny but cozy. He'd sit in his overstuffed chair with a mug of tea and read by candlelight until he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, then he'd crawl into bed and wrap himself in blankets to sleep.

He'd never see any of that again. Never go home. Never wake up and go downstairs to open the shop. Never hunt down a particularly interesting book. He might still be alive, but the life that he knew was over.

Just as he began to cry, the woman from the cell next door spoke. "Hey! Hey, you! New guy!"

"Yes?" he said, grateful to have someone to talk to. "My name's Oliver, what's yours?"

"Emily. Did you just get here?"

"Yes. I was taken from my shop earlier this evening," he said. Hard to believe how fast his life had changed...

"I've been here four days, I think. Are you okay?"

"No, of course not."

"Me neither," she said. "How'd you get caught?"

"A vampire entered my bookshop. She had some kind of power to paralyze me so that I couldn't get away. Then she drugged me and stuffed me into a car and drove me here."

"That's not very different from me," she said. "I'm an artist, and a man came into my studio, claiming he wanted to buy some art. He stabbed me with a needle, I passed out, and when I woke up, I was handcuffed to a pole in their examination room."

"That's awful," he said. "There's so many people here. I had no idea anything like this ever existed."

"I knew a little. My mom was a fortuneteller and she would tell me about the supernatural. I never really believed her. Guess I believe her now."

"I read so many vampire stories. I always imagined myself to be the hero in one. Instead, I'm just the fodder." He remembered something, something that had slipped his mind with everything else that had happened. "Alexander... he knew."

"Who?"

"One of the patrons of my shop. He tried to warn me to close up early. I didn't close up fast enough, and then this happened. He had some kind of mind control power... he must have been a vampire, too." Oliver's chest tightened as he realized that one of his most valued customers, the man who had bought so many of his rarest books and chatted amiably about interesting finds, was in league with these monsters. He had seemed so gentle, so mild mannered and sensible. True, he had tried to warn Oliver, but that didn't mean he didn't feed on humans.

"Maybe... maybe there's still a way for us to escape," said Emily. "I've been thinking about it, but they're so much stronger than us, and they're guarding the doors. When I tried to fight them... it was over pretty quick."

"You tried to fight them?"

"I tried to run, but they just caught me again." She sighed. "I'm not very large or athletic to begin with, you see, and the vampires have inhuman strength."

"I'm not large or athletic either," he said. "You said you've been here four days. What's it been like?"

"Terrifying but also incredibly dull, if that makes any sense," she said. "They haven't laid a hand on me since locking me up, but the woman in the cell next to me..." She hesitated.

"What happened to her?"

"She's a waitress. She got here a little before me and we had been chatting. She was really nice and would sing." Emily sounded like she was crying. "Then last night the vampires took her from her cell. She was gone a few hours. Now she doesn't talk or sing. I can hear her moving around in the cell, but she doesn't talk to me. I don't know what they did to her."

Oliver swallowed hard. "The vampire who captured me said that they were conditioning people here..."

"Conditioning? What do you think they mean by that?"

"Maybe what they did to your neighbor... maybe making us more obedient, like little drones."

"They're going to do that to me, aren't they?" she said. "They'll take me away and my mind will be gone. I'd rather be dead."

He wished he could reassure her and tell her it wasn't true, but he couldn't bring himself to say something he knew was false reassurance. The vampires could and probably would do the same to her, and if they did, there was nothing he could do about it. And they'd do it to him, too, and he'd lose his precious mind forever and be just like Emily's cellmate or the thrall that had escorted him to the cells. Part Five >> Masterlist >> Part Seven

Tag list - please note if you'd like to be added @d-cs

#whump #whump writing #whumpee #mind control #vampire #vampire whumper #tw kidnapping #captivity

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betterbooktitles · 3 months

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I had placed a stack of albums on the counter of a tiny strip mall record shop when my smartest writer friend called me out of the blue to tell me I should “always have a mistress.”

Relax. She meant a metaphorical mistress. That is, a writing project on the side. You have your main squeeze (a novel or a script) but then you flirt with the idea of writing a YA Romance or a Thriller or (god forbid) poetry. You need something to write that feels like a break from your “Big Project.”

I was staring at the cover of Tears for Fears’ Songs From The Big Chair, imagining the person I would be once I heard “Head Over Heels” on vinyl when my phone rang. I only had the ringer on because I was waiting for a potential call from a casting director. A certain late-night show sent out a casting notice for “shirtless man” and I, without any shame, turned on the lights in my wife’s office and had her take a few shots with my phone. I had the ringer on in case a stranger got my (half) nudes in an email, and said “That’s it! Get me that torso!” I’m sorry to say, enough time has passed without a call that you will not be seeing my chest on TV any time soon. Usually, my phone remains on silent when I’m out in the world. It also remains on silent when I’m at home because I’m staring at it all day anyway. Who needs to bring noise into that equation? If you call, I’ll see it.

Between the tone of her voice and the occasional swoosh of a car going by, I could tell my friend was driving and had me on speakerphone. She was on her way to lunch with someone on the business/agency side of Entertainment, heading to a mix of pleasurable banter over food with a friend but also a business-minded networking session with someone she hadn’t seen in 6 months. This call, pleasurable to me but in retrospect a bit of business since we talked instantly and almost entirely about work for 20 minutes, was eerily fortuitous. It was like she knew I was writing this week about work and relationships.

“You have the mistress project because it makes you feel young,” she said, telling me about her decision to write 50 pages of a Romance novel. “The problem is that you think ‘Maybe I should leave my wife for this younger project.’” She had submitted the first chunk of her frivolous manuscript to an agent, and, to her horror, the agent loved it. Now she has to live with it for a while. She has to explain to her previous project that they are either in a polyamorous marriage now or about to enter a trial separation. Plus, she had to see if the mistress project was wife material or if she’d fall into the same patterns as her previous relationship. OK. We get the metaphor.

“I’m afraid my new mistress is buying dollar records,” I said, watching the traffic go by, sipping from a lid-off paper cup full of Dunkin’ Donuts coffee that, between the time I’d spent looking at records and chatting in the parking lot, had turned cold. I felt the urge to rush back into the store and apologize to Timmy the manager for stepping out. I worried he’d already re-shelved my copy of The Go-Go’s Beauty And The Beat or that someone had seen the Tears For Fears on the top of “my” unpurchased heap and bought it for himself. This shopping trip was supposed to be an Artist Date (I guess the metaphor is still going), a weekly outing you do solo to engage with your Muse before journalling about it because a book called The Artist’s Way says it’s the only way to remain creative. You woo the Muse by engaging with art alone. Typically, I’d go to a museum or a movie by myself for my Artist Date but I’d had a record player for over 2 months and had only amassed a measly hundred-plus albums in my house so far. My next Artist Date will be a trip to IKEA to buy a shelf to hold more.

“No, Dan.” My brilliant friend said, “Replacing your main project with records or books is like saying you’re not going to have a mistress and instead get into sex dolls. You need a creative project.”

Read the rest of the essay here.

#essay #writing #amwriting #essays #substack #funny #tips #humor #personal essay #muse #art #better book titles #dan wilbur

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ilylovelyz · 10 months

Text

bags.

pair : jean x genneu!reader

warning(s) : none!, maybe a lil drama, just fluff

jean watches attentively as you gasp out of excitement when you pick up yet another book from the shelf, mumbling yet another "i've heard about this book!" he watches as your lips curl up into a sweet excited grin, wondering whether you should add it to the pile of books that you are currently carrying.

jean wonders the total cost of the current amount of books that you have in your hands (including the ones he also is carrying.) he took you out here for a simple date, knowing your love for books. he notices another couple a few feet away from you. the girl seems to be in the same boat as you, extremely happy and content with the stock of heavy books she is carrying. she's carrying more than you, maybe 3-4 more.

he wonders how her tiny arms haven't given out yet. most importantly, he wonders why her little boyfriend isn't helping her. her boyfriend looks extremely bored, just dragging his feet to wherever she goes next. jean scoffs audibly, drawing your attention.

"what? are you bored?" you ask, your head tilting to the side out of curiosity and concern. god, he loves it when you do that. he shakes his head violently, resisting the urge to chuckle when he hears you knowingly giggle at his dramatics. "never!" he almost shouts proudly.

"how could i ever be bored when im hanging out with my babe? only shitty, ungrateful losers are bored like that." he says, making eye contact with the male accompanying that girl, who was also looking over at the two of you as well. it was an attack, you facepalm.

you facepalm even harder when he just grabs random books off the shelf, "more! you need more." he boasts. after he's finished taking like 6 random books off the shelf, he leans down to combine the stack of books from your hands and leans back straight so that way he's carrying all of them.

you can almost hear the twinkling flamboyant stars around his face as he wears a twisted teasing grin. "gotta show 'em how it's done." you smile a toothy grin at his declaration. jean loves proving his love and loyalty to you, even if it comes at the expense of others.

for now, he follows you like a puppy, holding an absurd amount of books, ignoring the weird stares passerby's give when he points out even more books he knows you'll love.

he ignores the way he almost eats shit because the books he's carrying are preventing him from seeing his own two feet. he doesn't care, though. he'd fall for you any-day.

by the time you two end up at the cashier, the books take up majority of the counter. he doesn't take notice of the cashier's weird looks. he's too busy admiring your features. he's proud of himself. proud that he managed to make you happy.

he trails after you, arms carrying the multiple bags of books that he bought for you with his hard earned, slayed money. he ignores the fact that his arms have literally lost feeling because he's been carrying everything for you. he'd carry you a thousand books across the earth if it would make you happy.

his arms give out once the two of you reach your shared bedroom at headquarters, though he makes sure to not damage your books when he plops them down on his desk, covering the unfinished, soon due reports. they can wait later, he's with you after all.

he listens intently when you're sprawled over his lap, his hand caressing the small of your back as you read him one of the new books he bought you. he loves when you read so passionately. he thinks its cute when your legs swing back and forth because you're so happy.

happy because of him.

#aot x reader #attack on titan #attack on titan smut #attack on titan x reader #aot #jean kirstein x reader #jean x reader #jean kirstein smut #jean kirschtein x you #jean kirschstein x reader #jean kirschtein fluff #attack on titan fluff

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madds-is-ace-trash · 1 year

Text

Oh guys guess what this chapters got music!

OK so um the music isn't for like the whole chapter but a part where Gotham sings are little baby a lullaby so ill link it in its section. Also i’m going to try to get it on to ao3 tonight now that my laptops working but well see.

(part 1) (Part 2) (part 3) ( part 4: guess what ya here baby)

We are on ao3 need now! https://archiveofourown.org/works/43353157/chapters/108979318

Summary: Turn out the kid can read and he loves books. Duke gets to meet his new nephew. Danny gets a chance to fell at rest. And Bruce Thinks Dick got some one pregnant.

Chapter 4: Of Stories and Songs

When Damian went to go get a book from the library this is not what he expected to see. His eldest brother Dick was sitting at one of the tables in the center of the room. The table was covered with books of all different sizes, seemingly all about space? He scans the room when his eyes settle back on his brother and then the small child in his lap. The boy, no older than 5, had an encyclopedia of constellations open on the table. He was pointing at the constellations reading out their names and turning to dick excitedly telling him all about the chains of stars.

“I don't remember asking for more siblings?” of course another black hair and blue eyes child ended up at the manor. Bruce did seem to have a type.

“Don’t worry baby bat, not a new brother, not on my watch!” Not on his watch? What in the world did Richard mean by that?

“I claim him, he’s mine, look at him he's a little genius, this kid knows like every constellation known to man,” he ruffled the kid's hair, the child blushing at the praise.

“I'm not smart, I just like space, '' Danny said quietly, staring at the floor.

“Danny! You're reading an encyclopedia all by yourself. That's insane you're like what 6? Your super-smart little dude, a super- Star you could say.” Dick and his insufferable puns, Damian didn't have time for this. He stomped walked over to the section he needed and began to search for a book.

He did not flinch when the small boy suddenly appeared next to him. He was heavily trained, he was just distracted looking for his book,he did not get snuck up on by a six-year-old. “ What do you want” domain hissed wasn't dick supposed to be watching this kid.

“What ya looking for?” The kid coked his head like a confused puppy.

“ A book for my book report, why else would I be in a library,” his tone was harsh. He hoped the kid would get the hint and scram.

“What's it called,” he stepped closer looking at the books in front of where Damian was standing.

“Well if you must know” he huffed,” it's called ‘Bud not Buddy’” like this kid was going to know where a book was in his family library seriously what was the kid thinking.

“You mean that one?,”Danny said pointing to a light tan novel on the top shelf . “I can get it”

“I do that myself tha-'' Damian cut himself short as the kid FLOATED up to grab the book.

“I gots it,” the boy chirps, holding the book with a smile stretching across his face.

Not a second later Dick comes running around the corner, “ He Dami have you seen Danny i was putting the books away and– DANNY!”

The boy was startled by the sudden shout and dropped the book, Damian caching it with no trouble at all, then the boy poofed from sight.

“Richard what is the meaning of this,” Damian stared at his brother demanding answers.

“Umm right ok so the kids, a meta, didn't know he could float but the invisibility is not new” Dick walked closer to where Damian was standing. “ Hey Danny, sorry I yelled I thought you were falling or hurt, I didn't mean to scare you.”

And just like that they popped back within the blink of an eye still just floating in the air. It was different then the Kryptonians, different then Jon, it was like gravity just didn't apply to him. “ So he floats great, is there anything else I should know?” Damian said arms crossed, just what he needed.

“ No i got him Dami thanks though,” Dick smiled at him grabbing the boy gently out of the air as if he was going to float away into space.

“I wasn't asking if you needed help i want answe–,”

“ Don't you gata book report? ,” Dick was deflecting, whatever, trouble his brother was getting himself into wasn't his business. Dick was right that Damian didn't have time to mess around.

Damian stormed off leaving the library, could this day get any weirder.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Danny looked at dick with a sad expression, if the kid had been light before he weighed nothing now, his ability to float was a new development, tack it onto the power list he supposed. “ Don't worry about him Danny, he's just prickly around the edges.”

“Like a hedgehog,” the boy said in all seriousness that made dick snort.

“Yes exactly like a hedgehog” the kid seemed to lean his weight on dick no longer feeling like he was going to drift off into space.

“ So Danny, you like stars and space, but what other stuff do you like?” the boy put a thoughtful expression on his face.

Then he finally answered, “ I like to read”

“ Yeah buddy I figured that,” dick giggled, “ what type of stuff do you like to read?”

“ Do you have stories about knights!” the boy asked excitedly, bouncing in dicks arms.

“Oh you bet! Come on, let's go, the round table isn't going to fill itself.” Danny giggled, his laugh soft and light like a bell.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Alfred entered the library to deliver lunch, he had not expected to see Dick,Cass and Danny sitting in a blanket tent. Cass and Dick in pillow armor as they fought each other with sticks. Danny sitting in the tent reading a book out loud and laughing as Dick and Cass would act out the scene that was just read in dramatic fashion.

A warm smile stretched across the old man's face, “ Ahem” the Al cleared his throat causing the group to turn towards the doorway. “Sorry to interrupt your little play but it's 2:40 and you really should eat something.”

“Oh yea Al thanks a lot,” Dick looks at the pillow shield in his hand, “thanks for bringing it up we um …got distracted.”

“ It's quite alright master Dick, but i must remind you to pick up after you're done,” Al gave the mess a look over, it wasn't excessive but the older ones should set a good example for the young master.

“You got it Al,”

“Yes Alfred”, Cass called out walking over to pick up a sandwich.

“Yes sir!'' Danny shot up and closed the book he was reading, gently setting it on a table.

“Thank you, please enjoy” the butler left, stealing one last glance as he saw Danny light up at the star shaped fruit. His smile widened, he had a feeling it might stick for a bit.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“And then we snuck in and got the bad guy!” her brother explained enthusiastically. The boy stared in awe at Dick and Cass. Somehow the day had evolved from reading books about knights, to acting them out, then to telling Danny child friendly versions of their escapades.

“They didn't even see you coming!? Did you turn invisible.”

“No, we're just that good,” she chimed in.

Cass didn't mind this, sitting in the library, telling stories to a kid who just seemed eager to be interacted with. Occasionally Danny would get a little too excited and start floating and they would have to ground him. They figured out they got the best results not actually pointing out the fact that he was floating but instead placing a hand on his shoulder or ruffling his hair. It seemed to remind the boy that gravity existed and he would slowly drift back down to earth.

“You should tell him about that time you and Duke busted that hostage case '' Cass prompted. That story was pretty tame and was easy enough to water down for a kid as young as Danny.

“Whos Duke?'' Danny asked, that's right they haven't exactly done a family role call yet for the kid.

“Duke is our brother, and he's actually a meta like you,” Dick told the boy.

“Like me!?”

“Yeah but his powers are different from yours,” Danny seemed to lose a little bit of the concern on his face. That was weird, she's not sure if Dick noticed it, but the kid seemed worried about the idea of someone like him?

“Yeah he's super cool!,” Dick went into story mode gesturing wildly with his hands, “ So me and Duke had to go this building filled with bad guys–”

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Duke's head pounded his trip through the subway to get home was a mistake. He had pulled something in his arm nearing the end of his day patrol while disarming a drugged up bodybuilder trying to mug a group of teens. He didn't want to have to swing home on it, hence his tortues train ride.

He had already changed into civis so he just took the front way in. He was greeted by a weirdly giddy Alfred, the man had a wide smile stretching across his face. �� Why good evening, Master Duke, Your patrol went well I presume?”

“Actually All i think i pulled my shoulder, could you look at it, but can we keep the light dim I took the subway home and my head is killing me,” the warm slime on his face did not falter instead he just gestured toward the direction of the upstairs med bay. “ But of course master Duke, right this way.”

Alfred walked in first dimming the lights the most he could before inviting dick into the room. It was smaller than the one in the cave; it was mostly used as a first aid station for when they were in civilian situations, or couldn't get down to the cave. Duke took off his shirt and let Al examine his shoulder. He deemed it to be fine but wrapped it to help keep the pressure off.

“ I must warn you Master Duke but we do have a guest currently staying at the manor,” Damian probably brought Jon over again.

“Is it jon?”

“No, it seems that Master Dick has taken in a ward,” Al said in a cheerful tone, “ He seems to be a meta as well, but he is rather young and quite skittish it seems.”

“ No way!” Dick of all people, no wait actually he should have seen this coming.”What type of powers does he have?”

“So far we know he can turn invisible, seems to have slightly above average strength, and he can float. So far it seems he has little control over them and that they are tied to his emotions.”

Leave it to brother bird to bring home a little meta kid of his own, Bruce was either going to be pissed or extremely proud. He hoped for the latter. “ Does B know?”

“No, not yet,” the butler said but he didn't seem worried, “ I'm afraid he's been quite busy, but I'm sure he’ll like the boy just fine.”

“We’ll, where's my new nephew,” Duke hopped up and he couldn't wait to meet the little guy. It would be nice to have another meta in the family and on top of that Al said he was young so maybe he could be the cool uncle who helped the kid with his powers. Meta to meta.

“Master Dick and Master Danny are in the library, I do believe that Miss Cass is still with them as well,” hu so Cass was already in on it, “ I must warn you he's a little shy and doesn't react well to loud noises or expressions of shock.”

“Got it Al!,” He put his shirt back on and made his way up the steps to the library, screw his headache Dick brought home his very own baby bird!

“Please do tell them that dinner will be ready in half an hour,” He gave Al a thumbs up and off he went.

Duke lightly knocked on the door, if the kid seemed sensitive to loud sounds maybe it was part of his meta ability.

“Who is it?” a talk-whisper came from the other side of the door.

“It's Duke,” he answered back just loud enough to be heard. Maybe he wasn't far off, “I heard I got a new nephew?”

He could hear Cass giggle as she opened the door, gesturing for him to come in with a finger over mouth. Dick was in the middle of deconstructing what looked to be a blanket fort. A soft blue glow emanating from a point he couldn't see behind the table. He inched closer, using his stealth training to make as little noise as possible. When he got close enough to see over the table he had to squint his eye a little.

A small boy with raven black hair, with freckles that seemed to glow like stars, and with clothes 2 sizes too big laid asleep. His soft blue glow formed a halo around his sleeping figure. And maybe just maybe as he had only seen it for a second, a small crown floating above his head.

He was a lot younger than Duke had expected, Danny was sleeping soundly with a book about comets wrapped in his arms. Duke looked at his brother, who stared at the boy with the same look Bruce gave them after a day's work. Full of love, but worry all at the same time.

Cute isn't he? Cass signed after tapping on Duke's shoulder to get his attention.

Yhea, where did Dick find him? A sad expression stretched across his brother's face.

‘In an alley: Lots of blood’ Cass looked at the boy sleeping without a care in the world, ‘left by someone he called uncle CW in desperation, doesn't look good no body but’

“Too much blood for any one to come back from” Dick spoke breaking the silence,” Where ever he came from let's just say it wasn't good.” Dick took a shaky breath in placing the last of the tent except Danny's pillow into the basket. “ Kids covered in scars, he's so thin you can see his ribs and the worst of it,” dick leans against the table like it was a life line, “ He's got a huge Y shaped wound down his chest, like someone tried to vivisect him. Cherry on top is we have reason to believe that it may have been the boy's own parents.”

Duke just stood there looking at Danny then back to his brother, his expression begging Dick to tell him it wasn't true. He couldn't even bring himself to look Duke in the eye. Cass places a hand on Duke's uninjured shoulder. “ Al siad dinner will be ready in 30,” he couldn't bring himself to say much else.

“Ok.”

“Ok”

Dick scooped up the boy, the child laying snugly into dicks arms, they made their way to the dining room, a painful dreadful silence followed them all the way there. Al seemed to sense it, his smile faded.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dick tried to wake up Danny but it seemed once again the boy had fallen into a sleep he couldn't quite shake. “ Hey buddy, aren't you hungry? Al made dinner, can you try to eat something?”

“ Don’t look so worried Master Dick, I assure you a child sleeping this much in his condition is quite normal. In fact I'd say it's probably best if we let the boy rest,” if Alfred was not worried then Danny was probably fine. But it still made Dicks chest ache. It was only 5:30 and yet the kid was out cold.

“Ok i guess i'll just take him to my room? What if he wakes up and panics?” dick said, rubbing the sleeping boys back.

“He can read pretty well,” Duke chimed in, “ we can leave him a note?”

“That could work,” Dick thinks back to the letter from this CW guy and how it had been addressed to Danny, which means he must have known the kid well enough to know he could read.

“Yes well i'll shall await your return ,” Alfred gave dick a reassuring smile, “ and Master Dick try not to freat to much it's best to let the boy sleep and recover.”

“ Thanks Al,” dick gives a weak smile and Cass cheerfully follows dick up the stairs and towards his room.

He lays the boy down on the bed, the kid sinks into the pillow, he wiggles at the loss of warmth. Cass hands him a star patterned fleece blanket, “where did you get this?”

‘Aunties secret’ Cass smirks, making a lockling motion over her mouth.

Dick rolls his eyes and tucks Danny in, making sure the boy is settled before grabbing a pen and paper from his desk and writing a note.

Hey Danny,

If you wake up and need us we are downstairs having dinner. Just open the door and call for us. We'll come and get you. :)

Hope you slept well,

Dick

Dick set the note on the bedside table and ruffled Danny's hair, Cass graped his hand and guided him out of the room knowing he would linger. He softly shut the door and made their way down stairs. Just as they made it to the bottom Bruce walked through the front door.

This was going to be so much fun, dick ground to himself.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bright so bright

A lite over head so strong it made his eyes sting

He screamed

He begged

Pleaded for them to STOP his chest stung green and red covered their sleeves.

They didnt stop, didn't hesitate, he wasn't their son any more, everyone he had ever loved was in that room.

Chained…traped and all he could do was scream

Danny shot up tears streaming down his face, the small boy pulled the blanket into his face hoping to muffle the sound. What if they heard, he couldn't let them find him.

He transformed the shift pulling at the stitching at his chest, the cool sensation soothing the pain. He looked around the room he was in. It was large, it had a desk, a wall with things Danny couldn't quite make out pinned to a tack board. The closet sat shut on the opposite side of the room by the door, another door sat off to the side, a bathroom he presumed.

The tears did not stop his core morning fuzzy memories of things he didn't quite understand. His entire being screaming at him to run so he did.

Wrapping himself in the blanket he jumped through the window, falling a few feet before he floated up and steadied. His body heaved as he sobbed into the cold night. Jazz , tucker, sam, his core weeped, at the same time a part of him hissed Betrayal, mom, dad

A cold storm blew across the manor courtyard, clouds covering the dark sky. Danny hid against an old oak tree weeped, his cries aggressive as tears rolled out of his glowing green eyes. His fangs catching on his lips, His body cold even wrapped in the blanket.

With a gentle role of thunder, Gotham touched down her expression, sad but soft, as she gazed upon the glowing child that lay before her. She picks him up, pressing the sobbing child into her embrace. The boy continues to sob his body exhausted leaning against the women who had welcomed the boy with open arms.

“Its ok to cry,” she rubs the child with 2 fingers, her hands, gentle. She holds Danny in her arms like a baby. Danny is so small in her arms, it calms something in his core. It still cries, it still mourns but the overwhelming feeling of safety washes over him. She wraps the small boy in his blanket protecting him from the cold evening breeze.

With a wave of her hand the wind slowed, a low grumble of thunder spread out across the sky, She smiled at Danny, a smile so warm that he was sure he had only ever received from jazz. Then she took a little breath, and rocked the small boy in her arms, her voice soft as it stretched out towards the city's bay.

(Link to song)

“Wandering child of the earth” a lullaby for the child in her arms.

“Do you know just how much you're worth?

You have walked this path since your birth,”she gently wipes the tears off the boys star speckled checks, “You were destined for more”

“There are those who'll tell you you're wrong

They will try to to silence your song

But right here is where you belong

So don't search anymore” She gently walked back towards the manor, swaying gently.

“You are the dawn of a new day that's waking

A masterpiece still in the making

The blue in an ocean of gray” She looked longing off into the distance, her eyes full of hope for a future yet to be seen.

“You are right where you need to be

Poised to inspire and to succeed

You'll look back and you'll realize one day” She fazed through the wall of dicks room, looking around and giving the space and approving nod.

“In your eyes there is doubt

As you try to figure it out

But that's not what life is about

So have faith there's a way” The child in her arms had drifted off to sleep, his crown floating lightly above his head.

“Though the world may try to define you

It can't take the light that's inside you

So don't you dare try to hide

Let your fears fade away” she set the boy back on the bed, tucking him gently. She knelt down, rubbing the boy's hair.

“You are the dawn of a new day that's waking

A masterpiece still in the making

The blue in an ocean of gray

You are right where you need to be

Poised to inspire and to succeed

You'll look back and you'll realize one day”

“You are the dawn of a new day that's waking

A masterpiece still in the making

The blue in an ocean of gray

You are right where you need to be

Poised to inspire and to succeed

Soon you'll finally find your own way”

“Rest now, you are wanted here, let them guide your soul oh wayward child, may your heart rest upon the stars. You have gained my blessing, may my family become your own.” Just as fast as she had come, she faded an invisible hand wiping away the last of his tears.

The clouds subsided, his core was calm, he was safe, he belonged.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dick coming over to the manor wasn't unusual, he would often stop by to spend time with his family. No that wasn’t unusual , what was unusual was all of his children were being deathly quiet.

Cass and Dick giving each other worried looks, Damian seemed more aggravated than normal,Tim stared mindlessly at his plate, and Duke was fiddling with something under the table. Not even Alfred had said much, which was strange. Normally the man would be prodding the family to start a conversation to break the tension but nothing not a word.

“So Tim, you finished that project you were working on,” Bruce attempted to break the silence.

“No but I'm close, should be done by tonight.” Tim rested his head on his hand playing with a pea with his fork

“Hm, and you duke? Any trouble on patrol today?”

“Nope all good, just mugging” Duke took a hefty bite of potatoes.

“Damian and you?”

His son responded, never looking up from his plate, “My day was fine father, just a book report that I needed to complete. It was no problem at all.”

Ok now he knew for sure something was off, he scans the table once more looking over all his children, stopping at his eldest. Dick had not looked at him once since he joined the table. Something was going on and he was going- “Bruce I know that face please,” his son interrupting his train of thought.

“Look I'm going to just rip the bandaid off because the tension in this room is so thick baby bat can slice through it,” Cass set a hand on Dicks shoulder. Whatever was going on, she was involved or at least knew about it. Judging by everyone's behavior he knew at least everyone , including Alfred, at least had an idea about what was going on. “ I um….. have… a kid now.”

The utter look of shock on Bruce's face was one the family had only seen a few times, and without the partial protection of his cowl it was even worse. Who? How? Okay he knew how but how had he not known dick was in a series enough relationship to warrant the creation of a child. Dick hasn't dated anyone long term sense Barbra and it definitely wasn't Barbra he had just seen her she would have said something.

“Who?” Bruce finally managed to blurt out, “ I didn't know you were in a serious enough relationship to get someone pregnant?” He knew his kids would move on and start families of their own one day but like this? He hadn't even met the girl.

“NO ONE'S PREGNANT,” Dick blurted out face beet red, his sibling laughing at the accusation.

“O yea, kids like 6,” Duke chuckled out. This was not reassuring to bruce at all, Dick was 22 if the child was six than that ment:

“YOU GOT SOMEONE PREGNANT AT 16!” Bruce stood up out of his chair,” Who!? When?!” his jaw locked shut staring at his son who was frantically scrambling to find words.

“I UM… It's not like that…I didn't,” Dick continued to trip over his words, not how he pictured it would go, “ I kinda just picked him up out of an alley!”

And at this the giggles turned into manic laughter even Alfred was laughing to himself. “ It seems that Master Dick had inherited some of your more…child cedric tendencies im afraid.” Placing a hand on Bruce's shoulder guiding him back into his seat.

Cass and Duke made their way over to their brother who had his face buried into his hands. A grin stretched across Casses face, “ You should be proud B, he's caring on the family legacy.”

“Yhea the kids got blue eyes with black hair and everything” Tim had chimed in.

“ Yes father i do have to agree that he seems to meet your adoption criteria” Damian stated arms crossed annoyed glances target at his giggling siblings.

“Ahem” Alfred cleared his throat from his spot behind Bruce. “Yes, well with that out of the way,” a smile caching the corners of the man's lips, “ I do believe we sound discuss the boy's condition.”

With a nod, Dick, Cass, Duke, and Alfred filled the rest of the bats present in on danny's situation . How he was found, the note, the kids' constant state of tiredness, the kids' injuries,how Danny's own parents might be involved, how he seemed to be rather intelligent despite his age, and how he was a meta.

The same look from the start of dinner returned to Bruce's face, the gears in his head turning. He was going to solve this, someone in his city had been harming a child to such a degree and had slipped under his radar. He would not stand for it, but first he had to see the kid. This boy he was hearing so much about, who his son had just met but yet had a fond look on his face when explaining the boy's love of stars. His son had taken in a ward and that meant he had a grandson. O lord, he had a grandson.

“So when am I going to get to meet him?,” and as on cue.

“Hello? Anyone” a small voice called from upstairs, causing Dick to jump up from his seat.

“Sooner than I thought.”

@fisticuffsatapplebees

@terzatheunderscorerima

@sweet-itachi-lovin

@undead-essence

@blacksea21090

@markus209

@nonbinary-disasterter

@starkcravingmad

@ashxshadow

@aikoiya

@rainbowbunny0159

Chapter 5 (most likely to be titled “ A scrambled egg” ) will be Bruce and his stubborn butt not realizing rushing a traumatize child with question was not a good idea. So stick around!

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dp #danny phantom #danny fenton #batfam #batman #i write some times #ms&sc #ghost king danny #deaged #baby danny #phandom #reveal gone wrong #hurt/comfort #music #fanfic #fanfiction #thanks for reading

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eddiemunsons80sbaby · 11 months

Text

Nobody's Fool: Chapter 1

Summary: You have bartended for years after you were forced to drop out of college due to family circumstances. You have dated your fair share of musicians, had your heart broken by one particular one, and have learned they are not be trusted. You have sworn off of them for the rest of your life. Then, one night, a new band plays at the bar, and against your better judgement, you can't help noticing the lead singer and guitar player. Could he possibly be different from the ones who came before him?

Warnings: 18+ Only due to eventual smut and language. There is also a toxic family relationship if that is triggering for you.

So, this is an EddiexOC that I have on my Wattpad and AO3. @mmunson86 recommended that I share some of my longer fics on here too. I know most people don't prefer that so I decided to edit it into a reader fic for here. I would love to know what everyone thinks and if this is something you'd be interested in reading more of. If so, I have quite a few other books I could do this with down the road. If not, I'll just stick to my one shots. 😂😂😂

MasterList

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Chapter 28

“Joey, we need more vodka from the back!” you called out from behind the bar.

“I’ll get you that vodka, sweetheart, when you finally let me have that date,” Joey countered, leaning across the bar, flashing you a smile and wiggling his eyebrows up and down.

“In your dreams,” you chortled.

“You got that right. Every single night.”

“Ugh, you’re so disgusting,” you gagged. “Just go get the damn vodka. We have three bands playing tonight and John says we’re going to have quite the crowd. We need to make sure the bar is fully stocked.”

“Okay, okay,” Joey sighed, throwing his hands up in defeat. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

“You can when it’s the 100th time and he still fails,” you called over your shoulder as you checked the rest of the liquor. John had been adamant that you be as ready as possible before those doors opened for customers tonight.

The first of the three bands had just finished sound check and the second was about to come on stage. They'd been alright but not enough to really catch your attention, just your average, mediocre local band. You came out from behind the bar to check all the condiments on the table and top them off if needed.

“Your vodka, my queen,” Joey announced, making a big show of bowing and presenting two large bottles to you, one mid shelf, one low shelf. “Do you want me to grab the expensive shit or will these work for the night?”

“Those should be fine,” you replied. “I don’t see us getting high end clientele for a bunch of townie bands. Can you fill the condiments on the tables so we don’t have people asking for ketchup all night?”

Joey saluted you before heading off. You headed back behind the bar to clear the beer lines, pouring out a few ounces from each tap. There was nothing worse than having the taps malfunction when you had a bar full of drunks demanding more beer. Things got real rowdy, real fast when that shit happened and you were not in the mood for a bunch of belligerent drunks yelling at you because they couldn't drink until they couldn't see straight.

This job was supposed to be temporary, a stepping stone to something else. It was supposed to be a job that helped pay your way through college, but that's not what happened. Life happened and college fell by the wayside and here you were, four years later, still slinging drinks in this place.

It wasn’t a bad gig. The tips were great and the regulars loved you. You got to hear some amazing bands play. Free live music was definitely a perk of your job. There was nothing that could turn your mood around faster than good, live music. You never had to rise before the sun, which worked for you because you had always been a creature of the night. Still, you felt a bit like a loser, still tending bar at twenty-five instead of moving on to a real career, as your mother always liked to remind you.

“Everything set?” John asked as he came striding out of his office.

“As ready as we’re going to be,” you answered.

The second band had just begun sound check. You weren't paying much attention, not expecting anything special, as you did a last wipe down of the bar and tables. Then you heard the voice come over the mic and you paused mid-swipe, your bar duties abandoned. That voice was incredible, excellent range and pitch. It had this sultry, raspy quality that made you think about sweaty bodies tangled up in one another amid the sheets. But it also had this soothing, pleasant tone that felt like being curled up in your bed on a cold day, the comforter cocooned around you.

Forgetting all about the tables that needed cleaning, you turned to look at the stage because you had to see who that voice belonged to. Jesus Christ, what metalhead erotica novel did this man step out of? You head tilted, your hand coming up to your chest as your eyes raked over every inch of the beautiful man holding the guitar and singing into the mic. It should be a fucking crime to be that gorgeous.

He was tall, close to six feet with shoulders that filled out his tee quite nicely. He was lean but strong looking. As he shifted, the Iron Maiden tee rose up, revealing a bit of skin along his waist, just enough for you to glimpse the happy trail just above his button on those gloriously fitted ripped jeans and you couldn't help imagining where that trail might lead. Long, beautiful brown waves cascaded past his shoulders, moving around like the choppy waves of a stormy sea as his head rocked along to the strums of his guitar.

You were completely lost in the vision that was this man. You had seen endless musicians take this stage. You couldn’t even give someone a number if you wanted to, far too many to count. You had seen some beautiful men perform, men that could knock your senses loose with a look, but you had never seen anything like him. You didn’t know who he was, but you knew you were going to have to steer clear of him if you were going to stick to your promise to yourself. That one was trouble with a capital ‘T’.

“Hey John,” you said, walking back over to the bar, forcing yourself to turn away from the vision under the stage lights. “Who is the band that’s on stage right now? I’ve never seen them before.”

“Oh, that’s Corroded Coffin,” he said with a chuckle. “I was a bit hesitant when I saw their name. It sounded a bit cheesy, you know? But damn if they aren’t pretty good.”

“Yeah they are,” you agreed. “Why haven’t they ever played here before?”

“They usually play at the Hideout, and a buddy of mine saw them there the other week. He told me I needed to get them to come here because they were being wasted over there. They only gave them the Tuesday night slot, not much of a crowd. Even with a name like that, he swore they were one of the best bands he’s seen around town. So, I figured why the hell not? I like to give people a shot, especially the young ones just trying to find their place. Judging by what I’m hearing, they’ll be invited back.”

“Yeah…” you said, thinking you couldn’t possibly want anything less. It was going to be very hard to behave and avoid him if that guy was here on the regular.

“Uh-oh,” Joey teased, finished with the condiments. “I know that look. You falling for another rockstar?”

“Shut up,” you snapped. “No, I am definitely not. In case you forgot, I have sworn off all musicians for the rest of my life. They’re all a bunch of douchebags, anyway.”

“Yeah…because I haven’t heard that song and dance before,” he snorted with a chuckle. “I’ve been trying to get you to give me a shot for years now but, sadly for me, I have not a musical bone in my body and you have a thing for musicians, particularly long haired guys who can play guitar.”

He gestured to your shirt and you looked down. You were wearing your Van Halen tee and yes, you did have a thing for Eddie Van Halen, but like, who didn’t? The man was a gorgeous rock god.

“Actually,” Joey said, looking from your shirt to the stage, “I can see a resemblance there.”

“Oh shut up, there is not,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Eddie Van Halen is rock royalty. He is a guitar prodigy. No one can compare to him.”

“If you say so,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t think I’m exactly the authority on hot rock gods.”

You tossed a rag at him, telling him to finish the tables. You hadn’t noticed that the music had stopped, so focused on trying to think of anything but the one thing you really shouldn’t be thinking about. You absolutely could not let yourself go there again, especially after the last time. You went back behind the bar and bent over to stock beer mugs on the shelf when you heard a whistle from behind you.

“Well, that’s a lovely view. Hello there sweetheart. Can I get a beer?”

Standing, you spun around to come face to face with that ridiculously gorgeous man who had you paralyzed mere moments ago. If it was possible, he was even more beautiful up close. Those eyes, fuck, they were like melted chocolate, the kind that ran down your fingers on a hot summer day as you tried to eat your s'more as fast as you could. And his lips were so full and luscious, you just wanted to come across the bar, grab onto that shirt, yank him to her and find out what they felt like against hers. Your tongue ran over your bottom lip just imagining how they would taste.

You quickly shook it off. No, you absolutely were not going there again. This guy may have the face of an angel, but you knew better. All these damn rock stars were the same. You grabbed a mug, filled it from the tap and slid it over to him before turning away to resume your job.

“Damn, that’s quite the cold shoulder,” he said, taking a sip of his beer. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. Trust me, I would remember. So, what could I possibly have done to deserve that?”

“Oh, I’m sure you have a laundry list of offenses that could warrant that. I’m guessing you can handle a little chill. I can’t imagine I’m the first lady who’s given you the same treatment,” you said, keeping your back to him.

“That’s quite an assumption,” he said, sitting down on the stool, drumming his fingers on top of the bar. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know you,” you huffed with a harsh laugh. “I have known dozens of men just like you.”

“And what kind of man is that, exactly?”

“You think you’re a rock star even though you’re only part of a small townie band that plays for the local drunks each week and it makes you think you’re untouchable. Your guitar is just a metaphor for your dick. You have a complex about it and you treat it better than you’ve ever treated any woman. It was probably the only reason you got girls in high school. Hell, it's probably the only reason you get girls now. You play shows and look for some piece of ass to play around with and then the next show you look for a new one. Love them and leave them wanting more, right? If you do keep a girl around, you probably have another already lined up or one you’re already screwing on the side. You can’t stick with just one because it’s not how you’re built. You’re always looking for something more interesting or entertaining. Am I close?”

“Sweetheart, you couldn’t be farther away if you were on the moon,” he said.

“Sure, of course,” you said, winking at him. “You’re that rare good guy musician.”

“I don’t know if I’d go that far,” he chuckled. “But how about we start with names? I’m Eddie.”

Fuck, this had to be a joke. His name could not be Eddie. You glanced down at your shirt and then back up at him and he smirked.

“Yeah, like the guy on your shirt, but not named for him,” he said. “I mean, I would be honored as he is one of the sickest guitarists to ever live but he would have been a kid when I was born.” You just stared at him so he raised his eyebrows, holding his hand out. “And this is the part where you tell me your name.”

“Y/N,” you answered flatly.

“Y/N, beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” Eddie smiled, winking at you.

Your body was having a fierce internal battle between your brain and your desire. This guy was not only beautiful, but there was something about him, something that was pulling you in like a magnetic field and you were trying hard to repel it. You were telling yourself not to be fooled, but damn if you didn’t want to take your chances and see where this went. Joey was right. You had a problem with long haired guitar players, but this one was something else entirely. What was it about him?

“So, Y/N, what do you say you let me take you out sometime?” he asked, lifting one eyebrow at you and you gripped the edge of the bar as your legs turned to jelly.

“No, I don’t think so,” you answered, determined to stay strong no matter what your body desired. And oh, it desired, you could feel it's desire pulsing between your legs.

“Why not?”

“”I already told you,” you stated. “I know your type. I’ve dated your type, and I’m not interested.”

“Well, that’s not fair. You don’t even know me. I promise you, I’m not like any guy who’s taken you out before. Sweetheart, I know for a fact you’ve never known anyone like me.”

Oh, you had no doubt of that but he was still a musician. You'd walked this path before and it only ended in heartbreak. You weren't doing it again.

“Maybe not, but my answer is still no,” you told him firmly. “I am sure you will have your pick of ladies tonight after the show. Your band is really good. Clearly, you know you’re good looking. The girls will be lining up for you boys later. You’ll have no problem finding some fun.”

“What if I don’t want just any lady? What if I want the one standing in front of me?” he asked, leaning on the bar. Did he have any idea what his gaze did to you? He probably did. Guys like him always knew what they were doing and they enjoyed it.

“Sorry, this one is not available. Now, if you don’t mind, I have to make sure we’re ready for the crowd tonight and don’t you need to get ready for your show?”

“You are going to go out with me,” Eddie said confidently as he rose from the stool.

“Points for positivity,” you teased, heading to the back. You closed the door to the stockroom, sucking in great gulps of air. Damn, that boy was going to test all your resolve.

So, I am not a fan of writing the Y/N. I had to here because they were just meeting but I am going to try to keep the pet names from here on out.

#eddie munson #eddie the banished #stranger things eddie #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fandom #corroded coffin #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson x y/n

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