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i2ycat · 2 days

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Trouble is a Band

synopsis being in a band was all you ever wanted, and so when you were able to fly across the globe to join your brother’s high school band, you jumped at the opportunity to show everyone everything that you’ve got. singing in a band? check. performing in front of a crowd? check. falling in love with your brother’s best friend, who is in a complicated relationship with one of your fellow bandmates? check?

pairing park jongseong x fem!reader genre high school!au, kind of band!au, fluff, angst, friends to lovers, brothers best friend trope, slow burn-ish? word count 7.5k warnings implied sexual relationships (there’s no smut), kind of an implied fwb situation, liking someone who is taken(??), mentions of toxic relationships, bitchy character lol, cursing, kissing, nicknames (princess, baby), semi-proofread, lmk if i missed anything else lyn speaking i’ve been writing this for like 2 months and even lost sleep over this, the real ones know ☝🏻 idk why but this was much harder to write compared to my heeseung one… and this is not my best work, wouldn’t say i’m entirely proud of this i’m ngl so i won’t be too surprised if this flops </3 also this got me thinking ab jay and guitars wayyyy too much main masterlist

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

“Are the schools here always up a damn hill?” You heave out an exasperated pant, your legs burning from the early morning cardio you definitely weren’t prepared for, or even expecting for that matter.

The summer sun is so unforgiving that in under ten minutes, you’ve become such a sweaty mess that you’re furiously sweating from every possible angle; your uniform practically drenched from your back and underarm areas. A layer of perspiration sheens the expanse of your forehead and it results in you resembling something the likes of Abby from Chicken Little as individual strands of hair stuck to it like glue.

You look over at an unbothered Jake with his hair still perfectly intact and looking as if he had just walked out of Vogue magazine. You scoff at this.

The only things you and Jake had in common were having the same last names, a slight similarity in facial structures, and maybe a shared interest in band music but that was about it. You’ve had totally different upbringings up until now, with you having lived in France while he was in Australia, and soon after, in Sokor. You were apart for most of your childhood, only seeing each other for vacations and special occasions, like that one time Aunt Jung had her outdoor wedding in Barcelona and you’d met Jake and your mother at the airport out of pure coincidence.

But despite the distance, it didn’t deter the both of you from being as close as you guys are, still making the effort to talk almost every day, even if you were drained from school. You remembered nights when you would call up Jake just to rant to him about boys — yes, multiple — you were talking to while he ate lunch on the other side of the world.

However, other than just being brought up differently, you guys were total opposites. If Jake was known to be the golden retriever with his high energy, bright smiles, and friendly dispositions, then you would be considered the chihuahua — closed-off and somewhat sarcastic. You didn’t have a social circle as expansive as Jake's because you liked to be alone. People have always told you that you had this brooding aura about you, and you could never tell if they were complimenting or insulting you.

“You get used to it,” Jake simply shrugs, adjusting the straps of his bag in a manner that did not mirror yours in any capacity. It was ridiculous how not even a single drop of sweat was in sight. “Now hurry it up! If we walk any slower, we might actually be late.” He drags you by the arm, to which you inwardly groan, already regretting the fact that you transferred to a pseudo-gym of a school in the dead of summer.

—

Transferring to an entirely different school system definitely posed itself as an inevitable challenge at first, but even then, half a day passed you by uncharacteristically fast. It might have been because you were sleeping through the majority of your morning classes, unable to totally grasp or get used to your supposed mother tongue just yet, that made time pass seemingly faster.

That, coupled with the fact you never functioned properly in the morning in the first place thanks to your night owl tendencies.

You’d spent most of your life conversing in either English or French, rendering your skills in your own mother tongue to an intermediate level at best. You could, at the very least, listen and understand it to a certain degree but not speak it as well as Jake does. You were only able to communicate with simple sentences and the few swear words and phrases your father used whenever he was lecturing you.

A day before your flight back home, you’d even attempted to touch up on your language skills with the help of your father and a facetimed version of your brother and mother, but it was already too late then. You were a lost cause. You definitely don’t blame your parents for your inability to speak the language, but rather, you blame your own lack of enthusiasm to learn it on your own in the first place.

“Y/n, right?” You rub the sleepiness from your eyes away as your gaze averts to the girl standing in front of your desk. She, with her neatly braided hair and black rims, sported a welcoming smile that gave you the impression of a class president. Maybe she was; you haven’t been paying attention to anything the teacher said since this morning.

You slowly nod, “Yeah, I am.”

“I’m Mia, the class vice president.” Okay, so your guess wasn’t entirely off the mark. You were only missing a word.

“Hi.” You purse your lips into a tight-lipped smile, unknowing of what to say next and silently wishing that your brother would come get you faster. Why did his classroom have to be so far from yours? Did the administration really think you could handle all this on your own?

In the painful silence, you were sure that this Mia girl could sense the awkwardness radiating from you with the way she’s trying so hard to keep the conversation afloat, probably thinking that you’re an introvert that doesn’t like approaching people first — which if it was any other day she would’ve be right on the money on but all you wanted right now was to be left alone to your own thoughts. You were still suffering from jet lag and time differences, and those two combined ran your social battery dry.

“Where’d you transfer from?”

“France.”

“You’re french?”

“No, I just moved there really young.”

“I see,” she said, nodding her head as if she were deep in thought. “I’ve always wanted to go to France.”

“It’s nice there.”

“So, can you speak-”

Before she can even finish her question, a blaring bang coming from the front door reverberates in your almost empty homeroom, save for yourself, Mia, and a group of friends in the back with their homemade lunches. You almost dropped to your knees to thank the heavens for hearing your prayers as you watched your brother's figure stand there, taking a moment to catch his breath as if he’d just finished running a marathon.

“Hey, Jake!” You damn near winced at Mia’s drastic change of voices in your brother’s presence. You were sure she had a deeper voice just a few seconds earlier, even having the same mezzo tone as you do. It definitely raised a few brows, but you weren’t the type to judge people too quickly, and you didn’t want to think that about such a sweet-looking girl.

Maybe she just had a crush on your brother; whatever it was, your senses were telling you that they were currently not in favour of Mia’s presence.

"Oh, hey, Mi. I see you’ve met my sister.” Jake acknowledges her before turning to you and saying, “Come on, we've got to go meet the others.” He beckons you towards him with a nod of his head, to which you happily oblige, just thankful that you don’t need to go through the rest of lunch with any more of Mia’s interrogation-style questioning.

You follow your brother after handing Mia a terse goodbye, attempting to at least have an amiable smile on your face in the process.

Even if Mia had more things she wanted to ask you, she put them aside on the backburner for a later date. Instead, opting to just wave you and Jake off with the same friendly grin she always has on.

When you’re out of earshot, making quick work to slide the door close behind you, you make your way beside Jake in quick strides. “You know her?”

“Obviously. Why?”

“Nothing.” You shrug the feelings of uncertainty off, not having the energy to try and dig anything up on the first day of school. “You said we’re meeting the others?”

“Yeah, my friends, you’ve seen them. They heard you were transferring here and really wanted to meet you.”

From the number of times you’ve called Jake during his school hours, you were bound to interact with a few of his friends, mainly the three youngest of the group: Jungwon, Sunoo, and Riki. There would even be times he’d leave you alone with his friends while he went for a toilet break, and when he’d come back, you'd already be three months into the storyline with your then-current situationship.

You were obviously excited to finally meet them after only having talked to them via Jake’s phone. Throughout the four years, you’d like to think that you’ve created a connection with some of the boys, given that they already know so much about your life and you know theirs. The older ones, not so much, despite being much closer in age ranges.

Out of the four oldest, you’ve only managed to properly talk to Sunghoon. It was when you were on call crying to your brother about the fourth boy of the month, and Sunghoon just so happened to be going home with Jake that day. He’d eavesdropped on your conversation and offered you some advice, explaining that he had a sister of his own, as if that gave him the certification needed to meddle in your affairs.

You didn’t even know he was with Jake, let alone hearing you bawl your eyes out, blowing into copious amounts of tissues included, until he started going off about how boys are scary and that you shouldn’t trust them so easily. It startled you, almost making you scream, but you were grateful for his brotherly advice either way.

When the two of you finally make it towards the other end of the sixth floor, Jake slides the door to his homeroom open, and you’re immediately greeted with the view of six boys scattered around the empty classroom, a few having acoustic guitars and drumsticks in hand. This may sound cringy, but it reminded you of that one scene from Lemonade Mouth, where everyone was in the detention room and just communicating through the music. Except you weren’t in a detention room, and instead of singing, mindless chatter filled the space.

You’ve always daydreamed about being in a band, even going as far as attempting to create one of your own, but keyword: attempt. You obviously failed at doing so in your previous school because nobody likes being in bands nowadays, and your brother, knowing this, instantly jumped at the idea of adding you as their newest member.

He’d already gone through the logistics a week before you even officially transferred, coercing everyone in the band to agree to your addition, but truth be told, it didn’t even take that much toiling since everyone was just excited to finally meet you, and they'd already heard about how talented you are thanks to Jake’s endless bragging.

“She’s here!” Jake announces, prompting everyone to halt whatever it was they were doing and immediately jump at the sight of you gracing their homeroom entryway.

“Y/n!” Jungwon, Sunoo, and Riki are the first ones to capture you in a big embrace, effectively squishing you under their hold. Is this what people feel when they finally meet an online friend?

The mixture of fulfilment and excitement bubbling inside you was hard to maintain levelled, spilling out of you in the form of a grin that extended from ear to ear. You considered these three your babies at this point, wanting to spoil and shower them with as much love and affection as an actual mother would. It didn’t matter if you were only a few months older than them, that’s wasn’t the point.

When you’re released from their embrace, you can finally see the rest standing there with a cordial expression plastered over their features. You must admit, you’ve always thought that Jake’s friends were all attractive and had a relative charm to them, but it’s even more apparent now that you’ve met them in real life. With their tall stature and undeniable talent, you could only imagine the long line of girls waiting for them.

As you start to scan the boys one by one, you catch yourself gravitating towards Jay. He’s donning the school uniform, the same exact ones that the rest are, but he makes it so uniquely his by unbuttoning it to show the black shirt underneath and cuffing the sleeves until it reaches his forearms.

From the plethora of Instagram stories you’ve seen about Jay, you knew that Jay was into fashion and occasionally designed the outfits the guys wore onto stage. And as a fashion guru yourself, you applauded his impeccable style, finding yourself in constant awe of the effortless aura and innate ability for fashion that he possessed.

It also didn’t help that he was totally up your alley in terms of physical attractiveness. The others were pretty and charming in their own way, yes, but Jay had you hooked the moment Jake posted that photo of him fresh out of the beach, with tan skin and wet hair, looking like a damn Greek god.

Did you mention that you’ve also watched an unhealthy amount of videos of Jay playing the guitar? Because you have and it made getting attracted to him so much easier. Even through the screen, you could just tell that he was in his element, like he was born to perform as the passion he had for the instrument oozed out. Everything about him was just so mesmerising; you’re sure that you’re not the only one who sees that.

The timeline is blurry but from then on, you’d developed a small, insignificant crush on him, one that you didn’t bother mentioning to your brother because you were scared he would force you to act on it, even when you weren’t sure if you liked him enough to want to date him. You haven’t even properly met the guy at that point.

To you, it was simply an attraction. One that you’d get over in about a month because it’s what you always do.

“Hey, guys.” You wave.

“You’re awfully shorter than I thought you would be.” Riki says this from beside you, silently mocking you for all the times you’ve challenged him about his height.

“Of course you would say that.” You playfully roll your eyes. “You’re obsessed with your height, Riks; we get it.”

"Okay, back off, guys. That’s my little sister you guys are hogging.” Jake shoos the younger boys away with a flick of his hand, to which they dejectedly comply, making way for you to enter further into the classroom. “What was on our agenda again? Right, Y/n’s position in the band.”

“We could use another guitarist.” Sunoo muses, with Jungwon and Sunghoon silently agreeing on the side.

“Nah, we already have Jay and you for that.” Your brother shakes his head. “Wait, speaking of Jay, where’s Jiwon? You said she’d be here when I came back.” At this, all eyes shift towards Jay, who simply shrugs.

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t tell me you guys are having a lover's quarrel again.” Heeseung sighs. Your ears immediately perk up at the mention of Jay, Jiwon, and a lover's quarrel in the same sentence. Confusion starts to pervade your stomach.

Huh? When did they start dating? You thought Jiwon was only a close friend.

You’ve only ever heard of Jiwon, not once seeing her face in Jake’s stories or any of the others. All the information you had on her was that she was the same age as you and played the keys for the band. Jungwon, Sunoo, and Riki mentioned her once or twice, but it was more of them complaining about her. Other than that, it was as if her existence evaded you completely.

“The third one this month, mind you.” Riki quips.

“It’s only the second week of the month, though.” Jake’s mouth gapes at the fact that his best friend is still willing to go through such a toxic relationship, or whatever it was, even when she limits the people around him until she’s the only one left in his life, when they constantly fight over the smallest things, or even when she encourages him to drop his best friends. He doesn’t understand what’s so good about Jiwon that’s got Jay under her spell, and he doesn’t want to know either.

“Can we just drop it?”

Your brother puts his hands up in defeat and says, “Whatever you say, bro.”

An awkward air of silence starts to permeate the air, and by now, you’re sure someone could cut through the tension with a knife.

You clear your throat before saying, “Is it okay if I’m just a singer?” in an attempt to divert the conversation back to its original agenda, which thankfully works because the others start talking, adding in their own thoughts here and there. And by the time lunch ends, you’re officially set as the band’s lead singer and lyricist.

Finding out about Jay and Jiwon’s relationship made you realise just how little you know about these guys, only having talked to them through FaceTime and watching them live their lives through snippets of Jake’s Instagram.

The warmth and familiarity you were initially met with made you completely forget that you only officially met these guys today. They were all, to some extent, still strangers to you.

—

A few hours of school turned into two weeks, and two weeks into a month. By now, you’ve gotten more than used to everyone’s dynamics and energy, though it was still a little too high for you at times. You were thankful that your brother was there whenever you couldn’t communicate your feelings and thoughts as well as you wanted to, and for the rest for being so understanding.

All of this was a dream come true for you, truly. Ever since your father introduced you to the world of music, you’ve dreamt of being in a band yourself, singing your own songs in front of people, and feeling the music course through you as you stand on the stage.

But no matter how much you wanted to saturate your mind with happier, less confusing thoughts, it always seemed to circle back to the same thing: Jay and Jiwon.

Over the course of a month, you’ve managed to interact with Jiwon on several occasions, each lasting around a minute. They consisted of mostly quick pleasantries, instructions, and the rare ‘how are you’s? She wasn’t cold but not entirely friendly either, which you totally get because it’s not like you were any different.

Throughout the majority of the breaks in between practice sessions, she stuck by Jay’s side, engaging in playful and flirtatious banter that the boys would secretly roll their eyes at. You’d asked your brother why everyone seemed to not like seeing Jay and Jiwon together, but he simply shrugged you off, leaving you with even more questions.

“Hey, Y/n.” You look up from your notebook to see Mia, who you’ve wrongly assumed was a pick-me at first, cheerfully greeting you.

Somewhere along the line, she’d bashfully admitted to you that she liked your brother. It definitely explained the change in personalities and voices whenever he was around, but it didn’t make you want to recoil any less. She was a good-natured girl who hated letting anyone down, so when she asked for a favour from you — one that involved you setting her up with your brother — there was just no way you could decline. If she wanted to date your brother, you would happily aid her in that.

Which brought you to a now-blooming friendship.

“Hi, Mi.” You managed to reciprocate her energy.

“You’re having band practice today, right?” She asks with a tilt of her head, to which you nod. A beat passes before she bites her lip in anticipation. “Is it okay if I come watch?”

From the way her eyes glowed with hope, you could immediately tell that she only had one mission in mind: to see Jake. “You’re not being very discreet with this,” you chuckle, endeared by her amateurish antics. “But, sure. Practice starts at 4.” Hearing this, she immediately clasps her hand into yours, thanking you as if you just saved her entire bloodline.

She leaves you to your own accord not soon after being called by the teacher, “I’ll be there!”

With twenty minutes to spare and no one to spend it with, seeing as your brother was busy with lunch detention and your three babies had a student council meeting to attend to, you decided to make your merry way towards the practice room with your notebook in hand.

Pushing the door open, the view of Jay playing the guitar by the window warmly greets you. You're awestruck by the way he strums the chords so effortlessly, filling your ears with the most beautiful progressions you’ve ever heard, like it was heaven’s sonata. You would’ve loved to just stand there all day and relish in the intimate moment he’s created in the dingy room, but it only takes a few seconds before Jay inevitably notices your figure by the door.

“Y/n?”

“Sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be here right now.” You take a step back, ready to shut the door close behind you, but before you could move even an inch, Jay refused, instead asking you if you could keep him company. “You want me to stay?”

“I mean, why not?” He pats the space beside him and scoots over.

Your steps are hesitant, somehow alarmed by the prospects of Pandora's box in your heart breaking open the moment you decide to sit next to him. But it was just a simple, friendly act, so what could possibly go wrong here? You push those thoughts away and plop yourself on the cushioned window seat, leaving just enough space between you and him.

“So, why are you here?” He asks you as he carefully sets the guitar back on the floor.

“Everyone else was busy,” You could feel Jay’s intense watch on you, and you couldn’t help but feel the burning sensation on your skin. Just being in his presence alone was already making you feel hot; your cheeks were heating up in the process. “How about you?” You just wanted him to stop looking at you, because you wouldn’t know what to do if he noticed just how he was making you feel.

“Me?” He hums. “I guess I just wanted some peace and quiet.”

“Oh, am I disturbing your peace and quiet? I could leave right now.”

“You don’t have to be so antsy. I’m not going to bite you, ya’know?” He chuckles, clearly amused by your response. “And besides, you’re giving me peace by just being here.”

“I see.” You nod slowly as you bite your lip in an attempt to get a better hold of your nerves. There was absolutely no need to be so nervous around your brother’s best friend.

“I just realised something,”

“What?” You shift in your seat to get a better look at him.

“This is the first time we’ve ever had a one-on-one talk.”

“Yeah, I wonder why.” You retort, and he raises an eyebrow at this.

“What do you mean by that?” His head tilts at an angle, looking at you with those deep-set eyes of his. You can try to deny it all you want, but the skip in your heartbeat is hard to mistake; it’s not a feeling you’re stranger to.

“I don’t know; you never seem to talk with anyone else other than Jiwon during practice, so it’s no wonder we’ve never actually talked before.”

“Wow, you’re sounding a little salty there.” Jay’s lips form a lopsided smirk after noticing the defensive expression that adorned your features. “Nah, I’m just toying with you.” The airy laugh he lets out does little to nothing to soothe the chaos that ensues in your heart and mind.

“For your information, I am not salty. It’s just a bummer that you never really tried forming a closer friendship with anyone else in the band.”

“It’s not that I haven’t tried." He mumbles.

“Sorry?”

He shakes his head and says, “It’s nothing.”

A comfortable silence engulfs the air between both of you before Jay continues, “Hey, since you’re so salty about me not giving you my attention, how about I buy you ice cream tomorrow?”

“First of all, I am not salty. And second of all, it wasn’t that-”

"So, is it a no?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “If you admit that I’m not salty, then maybe I’ll agree to it.”

“You’re not really in the position to be giving me a challenge, seeing as I’m the one offering you free food,” he bites down a simper. “But fine, your highness, I hereby declare you not salty.” He adds a curt bow for the dramatics, and you can’t help but roll your eyes in faux annoyance.

“You’re so annoying.” You huff out.

“If you’re going to be in our band, you’re going to need more tolerance and patience than that.”

You could feel yourself slowly letting your guard down in Jay’s presence. The playful and witty banter he offered you made you feel like you’ve known him longer than you actually do, and it felt nice.

It felt almost too nice to be around him. But like everything else in your life, this feeling too shall pass. He has a girlfriend, for Christ's sake. So you better make sure that it will.

—

With your head resting on your hand, you silently watched the busy street beside you. When you first came to Korea, it was summer, but now that the leaves were starting to turn orange little by little, you could tell that it was nearing your favourite season of the year — autumn. To you, everything felt just a little more romantic under the autumn leaves and the cool breeze that hangs in the air.

“Were you waiting long?” Jay’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you quickly shake your head. “Sorry, Ji wanted me to teach her this riff on the guitar.” He pulls the seat out in front of you to sit, and you take the opportunity to sneak a longing glance at him: tousled hair, swollen lips, an untucked collar. It definitely looked like he did more than just teach her chords, but you bite your tongue.

It was none of your business.

“Did you order already?” He flips through the menu of desserts.

“No, I was going to, but I realised I didn’t know what flavours you liked.”

“Sorry,” He passes you a sheepish smile. “I’m going to go on a whim here and guess that you like Rocky Road.”

You raise an impressed brow. “How’d you know?”

“I just know you like that.”

“We’ve known each other for 3 weeks, Jay.”

“Okay, damn. You really do wound me,” a hand raises to his chest, feigning hurt. “Okay, now you guess what flavour I like.”

You ponder over for a while but decide to just settle on the most basic flavour of all, “Vanilla?” His face visibly falters at your answer; you could almost make out a pout forming on his kiss-bitten lips.

“Wow, I could tell the amount of thought you put into that.” His sarcastic claps boom throughout the modest ice cream parlour, earning him dirty looks from the few customers at the neighbouring tables.

“So you don’t like vanilla?”

He crosses his arms and asks, “What do you think?”

“Ugh, this conversation is going nowhere; go order it yourself.” You groan out, rising on your feet to order on your own.

“Calm down, princess; I’ll go order it.” Before you could protest, he'd already made a beeline for the cashier.

Princess? That was new. Oh, who were you kidding? All of this was fucking new.

A feeling of internal turmoil starts to bubble violently, like a seething kettle waiting to be opened. You hated how he was so nonchalant about everything. And you hated how he unknowingly made you feel things you shouldn’t feel. It felt awfully wrong on so many levels, but this thing was just a friendly gesture, a payback, if you will. There was nothing wrong with hanging out with your brother’s best friend on a Thursday evening, even if you held an underlying attraction for said friend, right?

“Here, one Rocky Road for your highness, and one good ol’ vanilla ice cream for her loyal servant.”

“So you do like vanilla ice cream,” you scoff.

“I never said I didn’t.” He shrugged. “Woah, this might actually be the best vanilla I’ve ever tasted. Try it!” He scoops a chunk out for you to taste, which you politely decline. There was a certain line you didn’t want to cross, no matter how insignificant and innocent the gesture might’ve been. Maybe you were thinking too hard, but it would’ve been weird for you to share an indirect kiss with a taken man, even if he was your brother’s best friend. “Hm, your loss then.”

The both of you remained in silence with the dulcet melodies of Wave to Earth playing in the background, and it served as a pleasant companion to the overly complicated noise in your head, all caused by the boy sitting a few feet from you.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Jay’s voice pulls you out of your own mind, causing you to look up at him expectantly. “You have a really beautiful voice.” His warm smile shoots you in the heart, right where you know it shouldn’t. It was just a simple compliment, one that you’ve heard plenty of times before, yet it sounded so good coming from him. It almost made you want to keep proving yourself to him so you could keep hearing him praise you like that.

“Thank you,” You bite the insides of your cheek as a way to chide yourself. Just why were you so easily affected by everything he says and does?

“I really want you to sing this song I’m writing. I mean, I’m not totally done yet, but I wrote it with your voice in mind. It’s for the upcoming music festival.” He pulls out his phone and earphones from his pocket, sliding his chair closer to yours and offering an earpiece, which you cautiously take.

You straighten your back in an effort to keep yourself focused, not wanting to mind the way his shoulders are pushed up against yours, or the way you could practically make out every single feature on his face, or the fact that you would’ve felt his breath fan against your face if he turned even just a bit to the left. You needed to physically force yourself to focus solely on the music.

Don’t mind the confusion.

The sense of focusing.

The only sure thing is you.

So now, put it all behind.

I’m just going to walk according to how my heart beats.

Fatal trouble.

Jay’s voice fills your ears, alongside Jungwon and Sunghoon’s. You could appreciate their heavenly voices all day, but the striking lyrics seemed to be the main reason for taking your breath away. It sounded as if they were speaking to your troubled thoughts right in the face, slithering around you to tempt you into falling deeper. Deeper into what? You didn’t want to even think about it.

"So, what do you think?”

“It's... it’s good.”

“That’s it?”

“What did you want me to say?”

“No need to get so feisty, princess.” He ruffles your hair, and you sigh, feeling the overwhelming defeat take over you because, no matter how much you wanted to fight the feeling, you knew that all your efforts would come crashing down anyway.

You were a weak woman with many faults, and being attracted to someone who is so painfully taken is the biggest one of them all.

—

With only a few weeks left until the school’s music festival, it’s no surprise that everyone has been on edge, but particularly so with Jay and Jiwon. Anyone with a pair of eyes could tell they were going through a rough patch in their relationship right now, made apparent by the abnormal amount of distance between them and the lack of flirtatious banter filling the room.

Every practice session was filled with the suffocating tension that made practicing so much more exhausting, and Jake had had enough of it.

“I know you guys are having yet another lover's quarrel, but can you guys quit it? We have a festival coming up, and we can’t afford to have both of your immature asses fucking this up for us.” Your brother’s stern voice shakes the entire room. He was usually never the one to get mad at people, so it felt unusual to see this side of Jake.

“We’re not lovers,” Jiwon retorts as her fingers mindlessly hover over the keys on the keyboard. She tilts her head at Jay and says, “He made very sure of that.”

“Look, it doesn’t matter what the fuck you guys are or not; I just need you guys to keep it civil for the sake of our performance, if not our team.”

“Oh, fuck off. As if you guys have ever even tried keeping it civil with me,” Jiwon seethes, the dark chuckle of complete disbelief she lets out hanging heavy in the air. “Yeah, I see the way you guys roll your eyes at me, and I hear the way you guys bitch about me behind my back too. I’m not fucking blind, Jake.”

You could see the way everyone shifts uncomfortably in their spots, and you can’t help but do so too.

“Quit it, Ji.” Jay’s attempts at getting Jiwon’s rampage to stop proved futile, as it only spurred her on.

“Shut up, Jay. I know the only reason you refuse to make it official is because you started liking your best friend’s little sister over me.” As soon as she dropped the bomb, all eyes darted towards Jay, who only stared at Jiwon. His jaw ticks in what you could only surmise as vexation, with the evidence of it starting to sprawl across his features. “What, baby? Cat got your tongue?” Jiwon sneers.

“Jiwon, if you’re not going to contribute anything to the band, you can just go home.” Sunghoon speaks as he points to the exit.

“I was planning to anyway,” she says, picking up her bag from the floor. “I am so fucking done with this, and you guys are all fucked.” With that, the door behind Jiwon shuts with a deafening bang.

The eight of you remain frozen in your spots with the shock of it all coursing through your veins like a hot iron. You needed a minute or two to even begin to assimilate whatever the fuck just went down.

When she said that Jay liked you over her, she meant it as a friend, right? There’s no way it meant anything more than that, right? Why does he keep confusing you? Why did he have to have your heart right in the palm of his hand? You felt your head start to pound the more you thought about it, and you just wanted to escape from it all.

—

Life since you joined your brother’s band has been everything you’ve ever imagined and more. You were finally able to meet people you called your family; you were able to sing your heart away on stages the way you always wanted to; and you were able to feel alive in a way you couldn’t when you were in France. But it didn’t stop there. You fell in love — a little too hard at that — and now you were suffering the consequences of that.

You had a track record for falling in love way too easily with people, as evident by your long list of situationships turned relationships, so when you found yourself staring at Jay for a bit too long, you weren’t entirely alarmed because you knew you’d be able to get over it in a few weeks. It was no biggie, or so you thought.

After Jiwon’s official departure from the band, the overall atmosphere had lifted and everyone was back to their normal selves; Sunoo and Sunghoon were back to bickering, and Jungwon and Riki were back to hogging you. Heeseung occasionally joined in sessions despite the senior duties that called for his presence. Jake and Jay, on the other hand, were preparing diligently for the festival, working on the song non-stop. It’s because of that that you haven’t been seeing either of them lately, which you were thankful for because it gave you time to really think. Think about whether Jay liked you as a friend or in a romantic sense.

“You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?” Mia nudges you in the arm. She knows you like the back of her hand at this point, given the amount of time she’s spent at your practices. It’s thanks to your cupid skills that your brother and her have been spending much more time together inside and out of the practice room, and despite either of them telling you that they’re just friends, you know better than that.

You sigh, knowing that it’s no use lying to her. “Is it that obvious?”

"Oh, baby, it’s written all over your face.” Her neatly manicured fingers push loose strands of hair out of your face just before squishing your cheeks in an endearing manner. “Talk to me about it.”

“Ugh, I don’t know.” She gives you a knowing look. “It’s just... that I liked him for so long, thinking that he was taken, and I felt so fucking guilty for it. Then the whole ‘Jiwon leaving’ thing happened, and now I’m all confused. Honestly, there hasn’t been a moment where Jay hasn’t confused me. Everything he says and does just makes me want to scream, ‘What the fuck are we!’ but I know he’s just doing it because we’re friends or whatever.

I mean, he literally calls me princess. How does he not expect me to not feel things? It’s so damn frustrating. I thought I would be able to get over these feelings before winter started, but here we are in the dead of winter, and I’m still helplessly pining over my brother’s best friend, like a damn loser.”

Everything you’ve been holding since you transferred here finally threatens to spill out, and by now, you just couldn’t help the tears from lining your eyes and your throat from constricting.

“Oh, my Y/n.” She embraces you in a hug and connects her forehead with yours; it only eggs you on to fully succumb to your emotions, and so tears become full-fledged sobs. “It’s okay, let it all out.” Her voice, along with her hand ministering to gently soothe your back, lulls you.

Until you’re left only as a sniffling mess, she continues to caress your back. “Thank you, Mi. I really appreciate it.”

“I’m always here for you,” She squeezes you one last time for good measure before letting go of you. “Now, we need a plan for you to get your man.”

“No, we do not.”

“You did it for me, so it’s only fair if I return the favour.”

“I don’t even know if he likes me like that,” you exhale for what seems like the nth time this month.

“Then we’ll make sure he does. Simple as that,” she claps her hand. “Boys fall for anything, so if he doesn’t already like you, he will anyway, because just look at you! You’re stunning, funny, kind, talented, and so so so much more. Believe me when I say that, Y/n.” Her features soften even further as she shares a look of sympathy with you.

Her words melt right through you, and you’d like to believe that you do hold the ability to make Jay fall for you.

—

Endless weeks of toiling had brought you all to this exact moment — d-day. You fidgeted with the microphone stand to try getting a better hold of your emotions because there was no way you would mess things up, not when you’ve all worked so hard for this.

The seats in front of you are filled to the brim, yet out of the hundreds of faces, you could only recognise a select few: your mom, Mia, and a few of the others’s family members.

Jay, who stood not too far behind you, could see the trembling in your legs. “You’ll do perfect; I know that because you were made for this.” He whispers in your ear, squeezing your hands in the process. You’ve never wanted anything more than to just kiss the boy for being so damn near perfect — everything you could’ve asked for and more — but he wasn’t yours to kiss, so you heed those thoughts away, instead simply nodding your head.

“Hello, we are ENHYPEN, and we’ll be performing an original song called ‘Fatal Trouble.’” Jake’s voice echoes throughout the school hall, with claps following shortly after, just before it falls back to a silent abyss.

Sunghoon’s keys fill the empty air before you start, “Can’t believe. You, in front of my eyes, everything is the same. But your smile is one I don’t know. Your pupils are like an abyss.” You shut your eyes, letting your emotions lace through each and every word you sing.

As soon as Sunoo and Jay’s electric guitars and Riki’s drums joined in on the melody, you could physically feel the shift in the air. It brought goosebumps to your skin watching people gape at you in awe and watching their eyes twinkle against the stage lights.

“Fatal trouble. It’s getting blurry. The memory of you is crumbling down.” Heeseung and Jungwon’s lower voice harmonises with your higher one, creating the most heavenly of harmonies to echo across the expanse of the hall. It felt so electrifying to finally be able to see the fruits of all your hard work. You’re happy you got to perform with these boys side by side.

By the time the instrumentals fade to complete silence, your heart roars against your chest like a lion so hard you can practically hear them in your ears. You all take time to thank the audience before heading backstage, where you all instantly huddle together.

“We did so well!” Sunoo beams.

“For all our hard work, I say we go drinking after this,” Heeseung suggests with a motion of his hand, to which the others instantly agree.

“Drinks are on me!” You chuckle as you watch your overly excited brother raise his arm like a puppy. You of all people know just how hard he exerted himself just for this performance, if the dark circles under his eyes were anything to go by, so you’re just happy to finally see him be himself again.

Cheers and hoots are heard throughout the backstage area until the staff politely asks you to leave. Before you could even follow the rest past the door, Jay’s call to you stopped you in your tracks.

“You did well out there,” he compliments with a sheepish smile, and it does the same thing it always does to you — make you fall even harder. You were so damn weak for him. “I knew you would kill it.”

“You did too, considering it is your song.” He steps a foot closer to you, and despite the hitch in your throat, you don’t do much to shy away. Jay takes this as a sign to be more forthright with you. He takes your hand in his, tracing circles with his thumb along the backside of your hand.

“I wrote this song for you. It wasn’t just your voice that inspired me to write this song; it was your smile, the way you made me feel, and the warmth you gave. So, technically, it’s our song.” The boyishness in his tone is obvious, almost like he was scared to admit this to you in the first place.

“I-…” You’re rendered speechless at his insinuation, feeling the familiar giddiness starting to spread across your body. “Are you confessing to me right now?” His deep eyes hold yours, staring at you with such admiration and intensity that you feel like you could cry.

“Yes, I am, princess.” His voice was nothing short of a whisper. You could see the way he eyes your lips, and so without much contemplation, or even hesitation for that matter, you take the first step in your newfound relationship by trapping him in a kiss. Further closing in the distance between you, your arms travel around his neck while his hands find purchase in your waist.

As breathless as you felt, you couldn’t let him go — not when this is all you’ve ever wanted for so long. Months of seeing him with Jiwon and hopelessly pining over him brought you to this moment, and you were going to let yourself relish the fuck out of it.

taglist @enhaslay @channiesdarling @kim2005bomi @letwiiparkjay

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xoxochb · 2 days

Text

˗ˋ where’s the trophy? he just comes running over to me ˊ˗

warnings: literally none, this is tooth-rotting fluff

pairing: luke castellan x daughter of demeter

summary: the three times luke knew he was in love with you and the one time he told you

1. your beautiful eyes stare right into my eyes

trying to pretend your best friend (aka your crush) wasn’t staring at you was almost impossible. it was even more difficult when he was sitting directly next to you, and you couldn’t help the pink hue making its way to your cheeks

you thought he wouldn’t notice because the sun had set and the only lights were the moon and the fire in front of you

but he did.

“what’re you thinking about?” luke asks, nudging your shoulder with his own

“nothing, just watching the stars” you quickly pull you gaze down from the sky to the boy beside you

“are you in love with them?” he teases

“shut up” you laugh

“well why are you blushing? do you have a crush?” he pokes your cheeks, but you slap his hand away

“I’m not blushing, it’s just hot” you make up an excuse

“it’s cold outside” he stated

“I have a sweatshirt on, einstein” you roll your eyes

“then why are you still wearing it?” he inquired, giving you a confused look

“It smells like you, I like it” you bite your bottom lip

and know it’s lukes turn to blush

“are you in love?” you joked

but he knew the answer to it. the real answer, he was in love, so so deep, and he wanted to tell you since the first day your gaze met his but he didn’t want to risk a perfect friendship, so he stayed silent, hoping one day you would realize how much he truly loved you

“possibly”

2. so make the friendship bracelets

you had spent the past hour trying to make this bracelet perfect. you wanted to make it for luke for no specific reason, at first you were doing it because you were bored, but as more time passed you thought you should make it for someone else

and who’s better to make it for than your best friend?

“hey flower, what’re you up to? I haven’t seen you all day”

speaking of

he takes a seat beside you on the grass

“I’ve been busy” you say, not taking your eyes off the bracelet as you finish tying it up

“did you eat today? you weren’t at breakfast” he questions

“no, skipped. wanted to make a bracelet,” you take his arm and slid the bracelet around his wrist, “for you”

you look up at him only to find him already looking at you with the most lovestruck expression ever, and you blush madly at this

“It’s beautiful” he whispers, not once looking down at the bracelet

and oh gods you could have passed out right there

and as for luke, he couldn’t take his eyes off of you, no matter how hard he tried (which wasn’t very hard, he wishes he could stare at you for the rest of eternity) his eyes were permanently glued to yours

3. I’m sinking, our fingers entwined

counselor duties had been called off for the day and you thanked the gods for that, these kids are absolutely exhausting

you walk over to the nearest tree and lean against it for a moment, taking a moment to breath

“hey stranger”

oh that voice

“hi luke” you beam

“what’re you doing here? you don’t want the harpies to get you, do you?” he teases

“you’re out here too” you point out

he shrugs, “c’mon I’ll walk you back to your cabin”

he holds out his hand for you and you take it without hesitation.

It’s so warm is the first thing you think. it’s comforting, and you wish his hand could always be intertwined with yours

and of course, luke thinks the same. he could die happy if his last moments were spent holding your hand.

the walk back to your cabin was silent, but not awkward, you both enjoyed just being in each other’s presences, even if that mean you weren’t talking

this was enough

“here we are” he remarked

“yep… I’ll see you in the morning?” you ask

“always” luke smiles and gives you that same lovesick expression he always does

and you can’t fight the large grin making its way to your face, “goodnight luke” you whisper

“goodnight flower”

and he doesn’t untangle his fingers from yours until he’s to far from you to touch them

4. the sign on your heart said it’s still reserved for me

you weren’t the biggest fan of capture the flag, but you knew it always made luke happy when you did

so you played

the majority of the game you sat and watched, looking out for anyone on the opposing team until you heard horns, signaling that the game was over

you quickly sit up, running to wear you hear cheers, hoping it’s from your team

and it is.

you reach the crowd, eyes meeting the chocolate brown ones you loved

you reach luke, swiftly throwing your arms around his neck, and he wastes no time in dropping the flag, putting his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer

“I’m proud of you” you say pulling away, arms still around each other

luke is wishes he knew where this confidence came from, but seeing you so close to him, a large smile on your face, and the save lovesick expression he always gives you in your eyes this time, he can’t wait any longer

“I’m in love with you” he blurts out

your eyes widen at those words, and you stay like that for a moment, but you knew this, didn’t you? you always saw it in his eyes

and you pull him in for a sweet, long-awaited kiss

it was as perfect as you imagined, the kiss, the boy, the moment, everything

#percy jackon and the olympians #pjo series #pjo tv show #pjo fandom #percy jackson #pjo #pjo spoilers #percy series #pjo disney+#luke castellan #pjo fanfic #pjo x reader #pjo hoo toa #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fic #luke castellan x reader

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dilrmma · 19 hours

Text

soccer!captain boyfriend ━━━ nrk. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ nishimura riki as your boyfriend

wc 702 (0.7k) ✶ masterlist

nishimura riki who leaves a drink he got at the cafeteria on your desk every morning before you come in

“they didn’t have the on you liked, so i got you chocolate instead.” riki stands beside your desk with his hands in his pockets as he watches you grab the drink. “you really didn’t have to riki.” “i wanted to.”

nishimura riki who likes to tease you by hiding your pencil case or work book so he can have an excuse to talk to you

nishimura riki who does anything he can to get you both in trouble so you can be in detention together and he has more time to spend with you

nishimura riki who shares his earbuds with you in class and has a specifically curated playlist for you with songs you said you like

nishimura riki who stares at you shamelessly just to watch you blush under his gaze

nishimura riki who flirts with you because he knows about the tiny crush you have on him

“so, what’s your type?” he asks one day while he soplays with your hair. “is it me?” he raises his eyebrows, teasing you but in reality he hopes you say yes.

nishimura riki who invites you to his soccer game with plans on asking you out after + he makes you wear his jersey so everyone knows you’re his

soccer captain!riki who asks you out with an entire poster board held up by his teammates and a bouquet of your favorite flowers

soccer!captain riki who leaves his team zip up at your place so you can wear it to school (also because he loves when it smells like you)

soccer!captain riki who walks you home everyday without fail even though he’s always late to his practice

soccer!captain riki who won’t shut up about you in the locker room and everyone knows who you are despite not meeting you properly

soccer!captain riki who tries hard every game and practice to impress you knowing you’re in the stands watching him

“put your shirt down!” heeseung yells as riki wipes his sweat off—showing his abs and smirking.

soccer!captain riki who introduces himself as your boyfriend to all your friends

soccer!captain riki who thinks your kisses are his lucky charm and cannot go to the field without one of your pecks

“why aren’t you playing?” you run your hands through his hair as he pouts. “you didn’t give me my kiss.” his arms are crosses and he huffs until you give in.

soccer!captain riki who has a shrine of you in his locker and occasionally has conversations with you before his practice (he’s insane)

soccer!captain riki who goes all out for valentine’s day and sends a flower to you every class period until you have a full bouquet

“did you like my surprise?” his arm is around your shoulder as he walks through the halls. “it was nice riki, thank you.” “there’s still more.”

soccer!captain riki who gets jealous easily and doesn’t like it when you give someone else *his* undivided attention, so he gives you the cold shoulder

however, he doesn’t last long until he’s spamming your phone and showing up at your house for late night cuddles

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to ignore you.” he mutters while he hides in the crook of your neck feeling nervous but also accomplished.

soccer!captain riki who buys you matching jewelry and clothes because he feels connected even when you both are away from one another

soccer!captain riki who teaches you how to play soccer so he can brag to all his teammates

“so, i’ve been thinking that jake should be replaced by my girlfriend.” “stop it!”

soccer!captain riki who claims that the reason he exists is to be your boyfriend

soccer!captain riki who isn’t shy to say he loves you with all his heart

“i think you’re the coolest person ever, i love you.” he randomly says one night as you both go for a walk, but ultimately you feel the same

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everybodyhatesmiddleschool · 5 hours

Text

It has been six excruciating days since I was plunged into the Bridgerton fandom against my will.

I was minding my own business, watching YouTube compilations of the best kisses in TV history, when I unwittingly clicked on a video about Colin and Penelope, and I was immediately down so bad for them.

Let me be clear: Bridgerton was not part of my life before I clicked on that video. I wanted nothing to do with it; I had no intention of ever watching or reading that smut. And then, without warning, it swept in and took me in the night, much like Colin Bridgerton in the back of a carriage.

To say I have been lost in the sauce these past six days would be a gross understatement. The carriage scene is literally ruining my life. I haven’t gone to sleep before 1 a.m. since Sunday, and I have been over an hour late to work every day. Why? Because I cannot stop consuming that godforsaken scene — watching gifs of it over and over, reading y’all’s hilarious takes and memes about it, watching it with the audio descriptions turned on (🥵), watching it with the music removed (🥵🥵), watching Luke and Nicola on their press tour, watching, watching, watching.

Have I started actually watching season 1 of the show? Of course. Did I check out the large-print version of the first book from the library since it was the only copy available? You bet. But I do not care about these other characters and storylines. I want it to be Colin and Penelope on the screen and the page in every sentence and every scene.

And either fortunately or unfortunately, I don’t even have to be looking at a screen to be distracted by them — my daydreaming has never been as maladaptive in my life as it has been this week. I can hardly think of one ten-minute stretch in the past six days in which some imaginary scenario has not been taking over my brain. I want to be part of their world so bad — not just Bridgerton, but Shondaland. As is the case for 90% of all of my daydreams, I want these actors to know I exist. I want them to look at me with just as much awe and love as I look at them. So I might be staring at my computer screen in my cubicle, but in my mind, I’m on a press tour of my own that intersects with theirs. (I’m never the desperate fan with no life in my dreams; my idols always see me as their equal). I might be driving my commute in my car, but in my mind, they’re congratulating me about my own novel being optioned by Netflix. I might be brushing my teeth in my bathroom, but in my mind, we’re laughing together on Graham Norton’s couch.

But Lord, here comes that freaking carriage scene once again, inserting itself into my mind (pun unavoidable). I cannot get over it. I’m so stuck there that I’ve found myself wearing shoes I don’t remember putting on, carrying coffee mugs I don’t remember putting in my bag, driving a speed limit I don’t remember agreeing to as acceptable. There is laundry that needs to be folded. Bills need to be paid. Emails need to be deleted en masse without reading. But I can’t find the door that will let me out of this damn carriage.

I had a conversation with myself two days ago about how we might be able to adapt to this new living situation. After a few temper tantrums, I finally said, “Girl, if you’re going to watch this scene 1,000 times, you have got to find a way to make it a constructive part of your life.” So I did what any rational adult would do: I started writing a scholarly paper about why it’s so powerful — not just for me but, according to the internet, for a lot of women. And I have every intention of writing an entire paper about this … if I can find the time. I’m just so busy right now with consuming this damn scene.

Was starting to write that article enough to satiate my obsession with this scene, with this show and these actors? Of course not. So this morning, I started writing a spicy scene of my own, featuring not Colin and Penelope but two other vaguely outlined characters who I’m sure I’ll give names and personalities to later. I was literally sitting in my cubicle, hunched over my planner, writing down snippets of sexiness in as small a print as possible in case someone walked up on me and looked over my shoulder without me noticing. And I’m not gonna lie: this shit’s good. I’ve never written smut before, because I’ve never had enough spice in my own life to feel like I’d be able to do it justice on paper. But that imagination of mine — she’s a freak. And my mind? My mind has moved way past the gutter. It is now in the outhouse. It’s in the slop with the pigs.

It should have come as no surprise, but as usual, the act of actually writing down the jumble of mess in my brain has had the effect of breaking some of the spell. I was also forced to focus on work because of looming deadlines, and I currently feel calmer than I have since Sunday. But I am truly living in fear of June 13. I cannot go through this again, and I know that I’m bound to, because I know that what’s been shown so far won’t hold a candle to what’s coming. And if I get down bad any further, I will be deep enough in the ground for this to become my final resting place. I’m not ready to be buried, but it feels inevitable.

But somehow, despite my own wants and fears, and despite the fact that we haven’t even been introduced yet to the bedroom where Colin and Penelope are sure to end up, I am somehow already lurking from behind the window curtains in the corner, peeking out at them doing the deed. I know what I hope I’ll see: based on the excerpt I’ve seen from the book, they will be in front of a mirror — expressly because Colin wants Penelope to see herself in full for the glorious goddess she is, and she will look at her sexy, bare self with just as much pride and love as we viewers behind the screen will (but probably with slightly less lust than Colin, who I pray will be very loud about how hot she is).

I am dreaming about this scene, but I dread it. Because if it’s as good as the carriage scene, I will immediately be re-enscripted and sent right back to the trenches where I spent the last six days. I’m excited, but I’m scared. And I’m afraid of getting lost in the woods again, because I know that if I do, I won’t want to be found.

#bridgerton #polin #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #colin x penelope #bridgerton season 3 #maladaptive daydreaming #creative writing #send help #nicola coughlan #luke newton

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redriots0 · 2 days

Text

A Literal Snack

Summary: “Close your eyes,” he requested. Adding with a raise of his eyebrows, “and open your mouth.” One-shot where Rick finds chocolate after you’ve offhandedly requested it.

Word count: 782

CW: fluff/suggestive

Rick Grimes x Original Character (Female, Male or Non-Binary)

Cross-posted on AO3.

---

“Hey, Y/N, there ya are. I’ve been looking for you. Found something this morning that I think you’ll like.”

You whirled around, startled by the deep voice of Rick, the resident sheriff’s deputy turned farmer turned all round bad ass. You had been contributing to your daily tasks in a quieter section of the community, content to work at your own pace and under your own direction.

“Close your eyes,” he requested. Adding with a raise of his eyebrows, “and open your mouth.”

Your eyebrows raised in response at his command, the corner of your mouth turning up slightly at the innuendo. Your eyes flickered between his, gauging whether to trust him. After the moment’s hesitation, you nodded slightly, allowing your eyes to close. Your lower lip parted from the top, tongue covering your lower teeth.

At that point, you can feel and hear rather than see Rick stepping closer to you. One hand clasps your chin, his thumb and index fingers angling your chin upward. The other hand parts your lips slightly as something is placed ever so gently on your tongue. His hands linger before withdrawing.

Eyes shut, the sensation of what had hit your tongue began to hit you. A wave of sweetness began to dance along your taste buds, enveloping them in a velvety embrace. Your eyes flutter open with the excitement that takes its hold, twisting your face in delight as you lock eyes with Rick.

Careful to not waste any, you cover your mouth as you exclaim. “Where the heck did you get chocolate?” You ask, Rick’s grin showing how pleased he was with himself and your reaction. He shrugs nonchalantly. “Found it on the run this morning. Whaddya think?” Smooth bastard, he must have heard your whining to Maggie earlier that week about ‘missing chocolate the most in this apocalypse thing’. Mind you, if you remembered correctly, you also said you missed ‘mind-blowing sex and a decent but smutty novel.’

Your eyes flutter close briefly again to enjoy the sensation on your tongue. “Jesus Christ, Rick. This is practically orgasmic!” As they reopen, you catch the faint blush tinging his cheeks and the tips of his ears. “It’s been sooo long since I’ve had chocolate. Have you tried it?” He shook his head, proffering the remaining pieces of chocolate bar to you. “Nah. I was gonna save it for Carl to have.”

“Fuck that, some things should be saved for the adults,” you giggle, grabbing the bar. “Your turn,” you murmur, stepping closer to him once again, “to close your eyes and open your mouth.” Once again, you don’t miss the slight tinge to his cheeks, but you definitely don’t miss the darkness that flashes across his features before he obeys.

You take the remaining piece, placing it into his open mouth upon his tongue, thumb brushing his lips as you withdraw. You watch as his features too change as the flavours hit him of a decadence that had been too long since last tasted. You’re hyper aware of your breathing in this close to him, but you are mesmerised as his eyebrows knit together, tongue swirling the chocolate around his mouth with a slight.. was that a grunt or a moan?

Catching himself by surprise with that, he began to grin sheepishly, eyes opening to find you in his space watching him with thinly veiled delight. Absentmindedly, his hand raised to brush a lock that had fallen in front of your face. The touch wasn’t out of place for Rick- he always found a way to touch you in this absentminded way, whether a hand on the small of your back to guide you, or a touch on the arm to get your attention.

This felt different. And as his eyes once again locked with yours, you could tell he felt it too. Here you both were, within a foot of the other, having shared some sweet treats. Rick inclined his head downwards, one hand falling to rest on your waist, eyes trailing the small gap between your bodies.

He leaned down further, his warmth radiating through your body. You almost started when he spoke- you forgot that you were both capable of speech at this point.

“Well, Y/N… with a reaction like that, I’m going to make it my own personal mission to find you a ‘smutty book’… whatever that means.

He winked a blue eye at you, and you smiled coyly in response.

“And then, together, we can maybe look at working on the whole ‘mind-blowing sex’ thing.”

Your reply was simple, but with confidence. “Get me that novel, and we’ll see just how we go with the mind-blowing sex.”

#redriots0 #rick grimes #my masterlist #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x you #twd oneshot #rick grimes fanfiction #rick grimes x y/n fanfiction #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes oneshot #grimeystuff #smut #Alexandria #Alexandria master era #suggestive #mmm...chocolate

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hannahssimblr · 1 day

Text

I’m on my bed, fully clothed, and I cannot remember how I got here. I don’t know if I’m sitting up or lying down, or what is wall and what is ceiling. When I try to turn to my side, the room twists like a funhouse around me, the bed tilting like it's intent to slide me right off it. Am I alone? I think so.

That's my phone, the bright square of light. It lays on the sheets beside my face, and I grab it. Her name is right there. It's intuitive, too easy to find.

It rings three, four times, and she picks up. “Jude?” She's sleepy. I woke her.

“I’m sorry Michelle,” I slur, and I mean to be sorry for disturbing her, but she seems to assume that I’m apologising for much more than that.

She sighs, “I know you are, and I’m sorry too.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yeah. Are you drunk?”

“Uh huh.” I should likely be sorry for that too.

“Where are you? Why are you drunk dialling me?” She doesn’t seem annoyed with me, concerned, hopeful, maybe, so I tell her the truth, “I miss you.”

I assume maybe I’ve passed out or somehow hallucinated this entire exchange because she's not responding, but then she sucks in a lungful of air and her voice trembles, “I miss you too, I wish you were here right now.”

“No, I was a bad boyfriend.”

“You weren’t.”

“I was the worst.”

“Not always.”

“...It's hard being on my own.”

“Yeah, for me too. Every single day has been horrible.”

I feel the kind of crushing, exaggerated sadness that I only ever do when I’ve had too much to drink, like I’m tumbling into a pit of despair so deep that the sun will never warm my face again. I can't think of a good reason why I have done this. “Sometimes I don’t want to go to Berlin,” I tell her hoarsely.

“Yeah,” she says, then hesitating like she wants to choose her words carefully, “You know that you don’t have to go, though.”

“I dunno.”

“You could stay in Dublin if you wanted to, It’s not too late. If the thought of leaving makes you too sad.”

That sounds deeply depressing, but being on my own is depressing too, and then I’m so frustrated that I fear I will start crying or something, “I can’t think.”

“You’re just drunk, but I think you’re saying this because it’s what you really mean.”

“Maybe.”

“I love you,” she says, and I hear her sitting up in bed, struck with urgency, “I haven't stopped feeling the same way about you, I still love you, and I want you to stay, if you're even considering it at all then that means-”

“Alright,” A group of guys pass by on the road outside, boisterously chanting some tuneless song and I’m conscious that I, or whoever brought me in here, never closed the curtains. I don't want other men to see me like this, and yet I'm unable to move.

“‘Alright’, as in, you’ll stay?” She says hopefully.

“No, like, that I heard you.”

“I think we’re supposed to be together.”

I wonder if she really believes that. Do I believe that? Maybe. “Mm. Maybe I’ll stay,” Sleep pulls at my eyes, which now rest unfocussed on a shimmery patch of sand outside the window. In the distance the waves roar against the shore, a lullaby. Sleep encroaches the corners of my vision and begins to suck me under.

“Please,” she says, really crying now, “I don’t want to be on my own. I’ve been imagining you finding someone else and falling in love with them and it makes me feel sick.”

“I wouldn’t do that.”

A sniffle, “No?”

“No, I don’t ever think about other people, just you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Never ever ever. You're my girl.”

She sobs gently.

“Shell, I think I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not, you just made a selfish decision. You can still fix it and make it okay.”

My eyes are too heavy and the world is too weird and dizzy looking to keep them open, “Will you forgive me?” I manage with the last of my energy, but I’m too sleepy to listen to her answer. I pass out in three seconds, the phone warm in my palm, the speakers buzzing gently with the sound of her voice.

In the blinding light of the morning, though my head pounds and every colour and pattern is an assault on my senses, before doing another thing, I grab my phone from my pillow to see new messages from Michelle. I don't read any of them.

Hey.

I type.

I was really drunk. Disregard anything I said, I don't even remember what we talked about.

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#lucky boy 2010 #A MESS #get a grip Jude #embarrassing #tw: alcohol #tw: drinking #tw: drunk

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sentientcave · 2 days

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Heavy Weighs the Crown

Chapter 4 - Left Hand Woman

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Contains: Generic fantasy setting, Princess Reader, No Y/N, Gryphon time, A spot of magic, No one knows how to communicate, I've given up on any semblance of reader neutrality, sorry, Sweetpea is her own woman and you are just along for the ride, Farah is here now! We love Farah

~7.2k words - MDNI

Someone sends a young woman from the staff to help you dress the next morning. She’s shy and mousy-haired, and you have to ask her what her name is twice before she haltingly tells you that it’s Tiphanie. She goes entirely pink when you tell her that you think it’s a very pretty name, and that you hope you’re not pulling her away from anything more important.

“I’ve been tidyin’ your room, highness,” she says turning even pinker. “Or, um, tryin’ to. You leave things so neat there’s been nothin’ for me to be doin’.”

“I’m used to living on my own,” you explain. “I’ve been in charge of keeping my own space tidy for years now.”

“On your own?” Tiphanie asks, aghast. “But your wicked father sold you away to the giants in the mountains so they’d help him in the war, and they kept you in a cage and made you sing to them like a songbird, until Sir Ghost came flyin’ in on his gryphon and rescued you.”

Is that how they’ve explained your absence? You unwrap your hair, laughing. “Oh goodness, no. I was living in a town not all that far from here. Out in the country. Not sold off or captured by anyone.”

“Well, then what was sir Ghost gone so long for, if he wasn’t travellin’ through the wastes and fightin’ monsters lookin’ for you?” she asks, blinking at the cloud of tightly curled hair you’ve let down, like she’s not entirely sure if she should be doing something about it. “He’s been gone three years, and then he came back with you— If you’re tryin’ to put on a brave face about it, I understand, highness, but what you’re sayin’ don’t make any sense. You wouldn’t’ve stayed away so long if you was just a few towns away.”

It’s a bit funny that she’s so insistent that it makes more sense that you’d been held captive in the distant mountains than simply living your life peacefully close by, but you have to admit, it’s certainly the more compelling story. “Well, the giants made me keep my own room tidy,” you say, splitting your hair into three segments so you can braid it down your back in one thick plait. “I only had to sit in the birdcage when they were entertaining guests.”

“I knew—” she cuts herself off with a little yelp, catching sight of movement at the window.

You glance over, and it’s just Nox, landed on the balcony, shaking her wings out. “Thank you for your help, Tiphanie,” you say, smiling at her reassuringly. “I should say hello to Nox.”

She nods, wide-eyed, and gives you a wobbly curtsy as you step out to the balcony.

“Hello, my darling,” you croon to Nox, holding your arms out. She presses herself against your chest, making a strange, warbling purr as you scratch behind her tufted ears. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you yesterday, pretty girl.”

If she's offended by your negligence, she doesn’t hold a grudge. She hops backward and gently tugs at one of the loose curls around your face, cawing happily at the way it bounces back into shape when she lets go, wiggling her wings a little playfully.

“Sweetpea, we’re down ‘ere, whenever you’re ready,” Ghost calls up from the courtyard. When you look over the edge, you can see that all four of them are down there, sitting around a table you hadn’t noticed before. “Nox’ll ‘op down with you.”

“One second,” you tell Nox, giving her one last scratch under the chin before you dash back inside for the book Kyle lent you. When you return to the balcony, she kneels down enough that you can climb onto her back carefully, and straightens up once you’re settled in place. Inky black wings spread out on either side of you, and she jumps into the air, headed upwards rather than down like you expected, her strong legs landing lightly and launching off the low roof on the other side of the courtyard, wings catching the wind. Your stomach plummets on her first leap, and you grip the saddle tightly, terror closing your throat tightly against the scream that builds up inside your chest.

Wind rushes in your ears, the sound of your heartbeat the next loudest thing. You take a steadying breath and open your eyes to a picture of the castle, and the city beyond, laid out below you, towers as small as a child’s toy blocks, the river coiled around the eastern bank of the city, glittering like a serpent in the morning light. Nox’s wings are huge fully spread out, and when you twist in the saddle, you see that her back legs are stretched out behind, her big paws tilting one way or the other, adjusting her flight the way a true raven’s tail feathers would. She tips her whole body slightly to the side, starting a slow, circling descent, calling out joyfully, her rough croaks echoing eerily back to you, the sound bouncing off of the stone below. For a moment, it sounds like there’s a whole flock of gryphons, rather than just Nox.

You wonder if she’s lonely, being the only one here.

Nox settles back in the courtyard and sticks her beak in the fountain while you try to dismount. Your legs don’t fully cooperate, and you slide sideways out of the saddle, the returned grasp of gravity unkind and unrelenting. Solid arms catch you before you hit the ground, scooping you out of the air with one arm behind your back and the other under your knees.

“There you are,” John says soothingly. “You want some tea, love?”

You nod, still too frozen to insist on him putting you down. You’re not certain your legs will hold you.

“Nox, you naughty girl, you were just supposed to ‘op down! What if you’d dropped ‘er, eh? You’d be feelin’ pretty sorry about it now, wouldn’t you?” Ghost scolds the gryphon, standing next to her at the fountain, his hands on his hips. She just uses her beak to splash water at him in response, which earns her a pointed finger. “Oi! Don’t you sass me, you daft bird, she wun’t even buckled in.”

Nox deftly snatches the glove off of his hand and launches herself up to the roof, where she settles in on the tiles and pretends to gnaw on the leather, her cat’s eyes wide as saucers, tail twitching back and forth.

Kyle offers you a cup of tea and a smile that's on the shy side. You thank him, realizing a little too late that John has taken his seat with you still in his lap, his arms looped around you securely. “John,” you say sternly, twisting to look at him. “Did we not talk about this?”

“I don’t believe this was on your list of complaints, actually.” He leans in and presses a kiss to your temple, whiskers twitching as he smiles. "Besides, you're trembling. I know I behaved terribly yesterday, but all I want is to take care of you. Are you so afraid that you'll like it?"

"That's not what I'm afraid of. I think people are getting the wrong idea about what my presence here means, and cozying up to you will not help matters." You hold the cup and saucer a little bit apart, so that the rattle of dishes doesn't draw attention to the fact that you really are shaking, and would have spilled all over yourself if the cup was filled all the way up. Not that there would be any disguising the fact from John, the way he wraps around you. "You know that this will only complicate things."

“Did someone say something to you?” John asks.

You take a sip of tea, eyes tracking Ghost as he took the last seat at the table. Typical of them to invite you to a table with only four chairs. “Tiphanie, the girl that was sent to help me this morning? She didn’t say anything outright, but it certainly sounded like she expects that I’ll be staying. And something about me being held captive by giants. And that Ghost was gone for three years? What on earth were you doing all that time?”

Ghost shrugged. “Told you already. Was keepin’ an eye on you.”

“For three years?”

“Started off just droppin’ by, but figured it’d be better to stick around. Was.” He sits back in his chair and folds his hands together. “Din’t ‘ave nothin’ better to be doin’.”

“You did, actually,” John says tiredly. “You were supposed to be the commander of my knights. Had to train Keller up for it instead.”

“An’ ‘e’s a sight better at the job than I’d’ve been,” Ghost replies. “Did you a favour, din’t I?”

“Wouldn’t’ve found Sweetpea without him either,” Kyle points out. “And Alex is much better with people than Ghost has ever been. It probably was for the best.”

You glance at Johnny, uncharacteristically quiet across the the table. He meets your eyes only for a moment, and then looks down at his hands, frowning. You're not sure if this is because of yesterday, or if something else is bothering him. He sneaks another look up, and drops his eyes again immediately when he finds you still watching him.

If it is about yesterday, you're glad that at least one of them has the decency to be ashamed of themselves. Price isn't acting the least bit concerned. His fingers are dug into the top of your thigh firmly, and his thumb keeps tapping a rhythmless pattern against your hip, distracting and wholly inappropriate. Kyle won't quite meet your eyes, but he seems hopeful that you'll let it slide and forgive him if he’s careful to make no further waves.

You'll forgive all three of them from a distance once you go home. You want your life back. You’ll do a better job of seizing that freedom this time— you think you might finally work up the nerve to talk to the blacksmith's tall apprentice, with those coal dark eyes that always soften when he looks at you. You’ve thought him handsome for a long while, despite, or perhaps because of, the scars that ripple over his skin, and now that you know that he hasn't spoken to you because of Ghost's interference, you feel hopeful that he might— Oh. Of course.

It's choking, how tight a leash these men have put on you.

“Was there something that you all needed from me?” you ask stiffly. “Or can I go?”

“You need to eat something, first off,” John says, squeezing your hip lightly. “Then down to the city to have that dress fitted, and to meet with Farah.”

“When I requested a woman to accompany me, I was anticipating a longer stay,” you point out. “I’m sure I’ll be fine without a chaperone for the rest of the day, don’t you?”

“I’d allow that, if you’ll stick close to me.” John’s voice is practically a purr, his lips too close to your ear.

You imagine tossing your cooling tea into his face, which is almost as satisfying as actually doing it would be, and freer from consequence. “I will not.”

He laughs. “Then Farah it is. You’re angry with three of us, and I don’t trust Ghost alone with you.”

“What did I do?” Ghost asked, clearly offended by the notion.

You sigh, and resign yourself to being watched. Even if this Farah person answers to John, you’ll be glad for a few moments away from these unbearably pushy men.

“We can move our little lesson to this afternoon,” Kyle offers, brown eyes hopeful. “And I’d like to join you this morning too. It’s been a while since I popped down to visit Rosie.”

“Why not head there now?” John asks. “Get a visit in, make sure things are in order, and Ghost can bring Sweetpea on Nox in a bit, if she’s up for a proper flight.”

Kyle gets up without objection. “Yes sir. I’ll see you there, Sweetpea.” His eyes linger on yours for a long moment before he turns to go.

You lean forward to set your tea on the table, and push John’s arms away roughly, taking Kyle’s abandoned seat rather than remain in John’s lap for another moment. He smiles serenely when you glare at him from your new perch, as unaffected by your ire as a mountain would be by a single drop of rain.

You regret kissing him. You hate that he’s handsome and smug and insufferable. It frustrates you to end that there’s so much of you that wants to melt under his touch, that there’s a glacial, undeniable give to your resolve. Warmth spreads through you every time he puts his hands on you, every time he gives you that cheeky grin that crinkles the corners of his eyes.

He gives you one of those smiles as he picks up your abandoned tea cup and sips from it, his mouth where yours had been, watching you so that you know it’s no accident. Yet more heat curls in your belly, like the press of his lips against the rim of the cup can still reach you.

Hateful man.

You feel a little better once you’re sitting in Nox’s saddle again, pretending not to notice the way both Johns stare when you shift your dress out of the way and buckle your legs into the waiting straps. And when you wrap yourself extra securely around Ghost, pressing your whole body against his back, it’s certainly not because you want either of them to feel any kind of jealousy.

This time you’re better prepared for the leap skyward, and your stomach doesn’t remain somewhere on the ground below. With Ghost to cling to, you feel safer looking down, even if it does still send a jolt through you.

The world spreads out below, distant and beautiful, like a painting with minute brushstrokes. You can even see a glimpse of green fields beyond the spread of forest, a near glimpse of home. It seems so close from here, but still far out of reach. Nox begins her descent only a moment later, and the glimpse of the far countryside dips out of view again. She didn’t have to climb so high, but you appreciate that she did, that the gryphon is so keen to show you the world from her perspective.

Simon touches the back of your hands, where they’re clasped tight around his middle, thumb running across your knuckles. Your heart aches curiously. You want to pull his mask off and see if you’re right, if he really has been living in your town as Simon the blacksmith’s quiet apprentice, if he’s the owner of the brown eyes that sparked warmth in your belly whenever he looked at you.

Maybe, if he is (and you’re nearly certain of it), he’ll come with you, when you leave once more. You’re afraid to ask such a thing, to test the weight of his oath to protect you against his loyalty to John. And John… Well, that was never going to go anywhere, no matter how much his kiss shook you to the core. There’s no sense mourning a choice you never had. He would find a queen elsewhere, and you would all be happier for it.

Just one more day. You’ll be glad to leave this behind, won’t you? It’s not as though it feels like any kind of homecoming, to return to this cursed place.

There are a few shrieks from the street below as Nox swoops down and lands on the cobblestone, onlookers ducking behind carts and into alleyways, although all of the terrified faces relax somewhat when they recognize you and Ghost, and then fear is replaced with wide-eyed excitement, whispered conversations springing up around you as you lean down to unbuckle your straps. Ghost is faster with his, and hops down to help you with the straps on your other leg while you’re still working on the first.

He lifts you clear of Nox’s saddle, and the closest shop door opens. “Princess!” Kyle’s sister, Rosie, rushes out of the shop and embraces you. She’s as pretty as Kyle is handsome, with a beaming smile that creases her face in just the same way. “Goodness, it’s been years. How have you been?”

“Well,” you say. “Life outside the city has been good to me.”

“I see that. I was so glad to see that you’d gained weight, when Kate sent your measurements. We always worried about you when you were younger. No appetite.” She pulls back and cups your face fondly. “You really are a sight for sore eyes, my lady. It will be good for the people to see you again, to know that you’re well.”

Her enthusiasm surprises you. You had always rather liked Rosie, when she worked at the castle, but you hadn’t expected a greeting like this, after so long. “I hadn’t realized— I mean, my father—”

Rosie laughs, the movement of her head making the pile of coily curls on top of her head bounce slightly. “Did you think we counted you party to your father’s crimes? No, princess. You’ve always been loved. There isn’t a soul in this city, perhaps not even in the whole of the country, who isn’t glad to know you’re safe and hale.”

Your heart twists. You had expected indifference, that no one would care one way or the other if you were here or gone. You hadn’t even considered that the people would be disappointed that you aren’t planning to stay. It’s one thing, to say you wish to leave to Price, but another to say so to Rosie, and a heavy thought indeed, knowing you’ll make a speech over it tomorrow.

“Come on, in we go,” Ghost says firmly, motioning for you and Rosie to get inside. “Keep a look out, hey Nox?” The Gryphon makes a low, gurgling sound in response and sits on her haunches beside the door.

There's a prickle of magic in the air, but perhaps it's just Kyle, the energy that crackles around him wherever he goes. He stands next to a dress form with a beautiful dark green gown hanging off of it. It's off the shoulder, with pearly beads and clusters of embroidered leaves and flowers in a pale cream colour all around the neckline and the cuffs of the sleeves, giving way to beautiful lace. You think that maybe the colour difference is too stark— You would have chosen a more subtle accent— but you politely say nothing of it. Perhaps this is what's fashionable these days. You certainly won't ask Rosie to make a serious alteration like that with less than a day of lead time. You only have to wear the dress for a few hours anyway.

Rosie and one of her assistants shoo Kyle away, and start taking the dress off the form. Ghost joins Kyle on a bench on the other side of the room, his bulky frame taking up most of the available space. Another assistant ushers you into another room and begins helping you take off your dress and settle a few extra layers of petticoats over the ones you're already wearing.

The shop bell rings, and you hear Nox make a churring sound. "Hello," a woman says, her pretty, accented voice carrying through the space without growing too loud, like she naturally knows how to command attention. "Sir Garrick, Sir Ghost. Good to see you."

"Always good to see you, Farah," Kyle says pleasantly. “It’s been too long.”

“Hardly. We never see each other when times are good, Garrick.”

“Times are good now,” Kyle replies.

“Hm.”

You twist to look behind you, thinking about going back into the other room to introduce yourself, and Rosie accidentally stabs you with a pin. “Hold still, my lady,” she chides. “We’ll just be another moment.”

Farah pushes past the curtain and stalks into the room. She’s small, even shorter than you are, but she has a hunter’s lean to her stride, and a sword strapped to her back. She’s dressed practically, leather pauldron on her left arm pieced together with her bracer with a jack chain, nearly balanced on the other arm, but without the heavier pauldron, to keep her sword arm freer. Her leather breastplate is scarred from battle, but well-maintained, and a small hand-crossbow that glitters with magic hangs from her thick belt, along with a knife and a quiver of bolts. Her hair is braided back from her strong-boned face, and although her expression is serious, thick brows drawn into straight, unimpressed lines, her dark eyes have a curious glint in them. “Princess,” she says as you turn, earning yourself another pin-prick. “I am Farah Karim. I’ve been told you have need of me.”

“John insists that I’m not safe without a sword-wielding escort,” you say wryly. “I disagree, but his knights will hardly let me out of their sight as it is.”

“Could be assassins lurking about, my lady,” Rosie says, warm brown eyes wide and worried. “We would hate to lose you so quickly, after just getting you back.”

You glance at Farah, and spot the slightest flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “You see what I’m dealing with?” you ask. “Everyone thinks I’m in terrible danger.”

“The danger likely comes tonight. With their envoy.”

You tip your head to the side. “No love for our neighbours, Commander?”

Farah huffs, crossing her arms and widening her stance reflexively. “No. My father’s lands are close to the border. I’ve seen the worst of them. While you were locked away in the palace, I saw villages burned, people slaughtered, foul magics leeching life from the very soil. You would be wise to be wary.”

“I suppose it’s naivete to think the peace can last.”

“No. It is hopeful. But you must project strength, or they will see that hope as weakness. Your cousin has given them leverage to oust John. So it falls to you to correct the course. We cannot fight another war amongst ourselves, or the wolves will be at our throats.” The challenge in her eyes is immistakable. Her perspective is valuable, and she offers it without pretense, as both warning an a test. Are you willing to listen? Or are you like so many others of your station, in your country and without, that only hear what they wish to hear?

“You don’t see minding me as beneath you?” you ask. “You lead a company of soldiers.”

Her lips curl into a smile. “My fighters are in good hands. Besides, I’m curious about you, princess. We might have been friends, had our paths not diverged. Perhaps we still can be.”

“I’d like that,” you admit.

Farah walks back out to speak with Ghost and Kyle while Rosie finishes marking adjustments. When you’re finally freed from the dress and get dressed again, Kyle and Ghost are both gone, and Farah is inspecting some spools of ribbon idly.

"I sent them home," she explains. "I suspect Ghost will be nearby and watching, but Gaz has gone back to his tower. He says he will be there all afternoon if you still wish to learn magic tricks from him." She wiggles her fingers vaguely, eyes creased with a smile.

"I think I should. It can't hurt to try."

"No. And it will give me a chance to go over castle wards and security."

Nodding, you bid farewell to Rosie and her assistants, and step out onto the street with Farah by your side. Nox is still waiting outside, basking in a block of sunshine. She stirs, getting up and stretching like a house cat, her feather-tufted tail lashing lazily behind her. You smile when Nox settles into her stride behind you and Farah, sticking her beak over your shoulder. You hook your fingers over the smooth black beak. “Just us girls, hey Nox?” you croon.

She churrs in response.

“The beast likes you,” Farah says approvingly. “Gryphons tend to be disagreeable, unless they’re hand-reared. Nox has famously bitten more than a few fingers.”

“Yours too?” you ask.

Farah laughs, shaking her head. “I know how to keep my hands to myself.”

“At least someone around here does,” you grouse.

“Price?” she asks, raising her thick brows. “Do you want me to speak with him?”

“I don’t think there’s much point. This will all be over soon enough.”

Farah frowns at that, her dark eyes studying you sidelong. “It doesn’t give him the right, no matter who he is to you. If he cannot behave, I will gladly remove a finger or two to remind him.”

“Really? I thought you were one of John’s people.”

“He may be the king, but I am not one of his sworn knights, nor am I a member of the army. He cannot command me, he can only ask if he wants something done,” Farah says, and there’s something in her tone that tells you that she’s had to remind John of this fact more than once. “If I am to be loyal to anyone in court, it will be you, and you alone.”

“Just like that?”

“I have a good feeling about you, princess. I think your people need you, and you will need allies of your own.”

Your stomach twists again. You’re beginning to doubt your resolution to leave. Maybe you really are needed here. Maybe you bring something vital that’s been missing for too long. Maybe things aren’t going as well as you had thought— You have to admit, your perspective is still limited, for all that you were living among ordinary citizens all this time. Your town is a prosperous one, along a good trade route, too far from any borders to face any significant dangers. There has been little strife, no awful storms, no disasters. This can’t be the case for the whole kingdom.

Maybe you should stay a few extra days, and go through the accounts and reports from the last few years, at least. If there’s something that’s been missed, you might have better eyes to find it. It wouldn’t be such a bad thing, to stay on just a few days more. Especially once you’d made your speech and no one was labouring under the idea that you’d be staying forever. It would be easier to speak to people if you really were no longer a princess.

On to better things, as John had said.

Maybe there’s a place here for you. Not as a queen, but an advisor. Something to speak to John about later, perhaps. You’re sure he’d be happy for an excuse to keep you close.

But then again, maybe not. It’s a bitter thought, but his interest in you is very likely just based in your lineage, your claim to the throne. He has no need to keep you close once you’ve pledged your support to him. Better to send you away, lest you rescind that support when you have a large enough disagreement.

John is nothing if not pragmatic. You’ll be no use to him by the end of the day tomorrow.

And that’s good. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it? To go home, to be left alone, to take upon yourself a destiny of your own, that has nothing to do with where you’re from, and everything to do with where you’re going next?

“How did you become a mercenary?” you ask. Better to think about something other than yourself before you drive yourself mad with what-ifs and maybes.

“My father arranged a marriage for me, and I wanted to be a knight, like my brother Hadir was in training to be. It was an argument. In the end, I saw only two paths. I could do what was expected, but I knew even as a girl that would not be tolerable. I was too proud of my skills, eager to fight and defend people that needed me. So I took the second path, and left my home. I started off as a sell-sword, mostly caravan work until Hadir left his knight-master to come work with me, and the two of us started making a name.” She gives you a wry smile. “My parents were none too pleased with Hadir either. But they still speak to him.”

“You don’t talk to them at all?”

“Once in a while they send me a letter to remind me that the man who wished to marry me still hasn’t found another. That he’s still open to the match.” She rolls her eyes. “I think if he hasn’t been able to find a wife in all this time, there’s a reason for it.”

You laugh lightly. She has a good point.

By the time the two of you meander back to the palace, you do feel like you’re fast friends. Farah has a way of opening up without having to say much at all, her dark, pretty eyes sincere. Maybe it's something shared between you, not words exchanged, but who you both expected to become, how you both were raised to be something you wanted no part of. Farah is bolder than you, decisive and candle-quick, and you are a slow trickle of water, always taking the path of least resistance, but somehow you were both born of the same stuff. You understand each other.

Nox flies off when you reach the castle gates, and Farah and you split at the foot of Gaz's tower, her off to meet with the knight commander, and you to see if there's anything that you can learn. The book that Gaz had lent to you had been easy reading, especially with the annotations in his neat, scratchy writing, and the first two chapters had been more reminder of what you already knew. The third was about disrupting and dispelling magic, which seemed like it would be a useful place to start your lessons. Even if you expect that greater magics will be beyond your grasp, you can protect yourself by disrupting spells used against you.

By the time you reach the workshop door, you’re a bit warm and out of breath, the countless spiraling steps more effort than you’d like to admit, especially after a walk through the city. Why Kyle liked it was apparent just from looking at him, but you have a softer physique, and you’ve become quite unused to stairs over the years away from the castle. There are very few buildings taller than two stories back in town. You halt outside the door to catch your breath, glancing out the narrow window, through the slight warping of uneven glass panes.

“Isna right, Gaz, and even ye know it!” Soap’s heated voice seeps through the door. Kyle’s response is too low to make out, but Soap’s next words are clear. “She deserves better! Been nothin’ but kind to us.”

“She’ll get over it, Soap. You know it’s for the best.”

“The best for himself, sure, but I dinnae ken if it’s best for her.”

You sigh, torn between the impulse to eavesdrop and knowing that it’s wrong to do so. It’s not difficult to surmise that they’re talking about you. It would explain the look on Johnny’s face this morning and the feeling that things are not quite right that has been worrying at you all day. Perhaps John does intend to make you stay on in some capacity, to prop up his rule, which would be contrary to everything you’ve said you want. It wouldn’t be all that difficult to get the truth of the matter out of Soap later however— He seems uncomfortable with any level of duplicity.

The knock on the door silences the low, indecipherable sound of Kyle’s response. You rub your knuckles idly as the door opens, the tingle of magic clinging to your skin like cobwebs.

“Hello, Sweetpea.” Kyle greets you with a big smile. “I’m glad you decided to come up. Did you get through the reading I gave you?” He throws a look over his shoulder at Soap that cleary says go away.

“I did. I read through the first three chapters— I was wondering if we could focus on dispelling magic? I’m familiar enough with the bare basics, and if I’m only going to have time for one lesson, this seems like a good place to focus.” You reach out to brush Soap’s shoulder as he moves past you. “Can we talk later?”

“Of course, bonnie,” Soap says. “I’m always at yer service.”

“If you go find Farah, she might appreciate any insights you have on castle security. I think she went to speak with the knight commander.”

“Aye, could be helpful there. Go’ a nose for these things.” He taps his nose, his grin tinged with relief that you don’t seem angry with him for yesterday. “We’ll talk later, then.”

You step into the workshop and he steps out, and Kyle closes the door between you. “Dispelling magic could be a good place to start… How are you at sensing magic? If you have a natural affinity for it we can breeze past the first half of the lesson.” He takes your hand and gently pulls you over to the circle of iridescent stone.

“I think I might— I get this prickle when there’s magic around. I can’t say I always notice it, but I haven’t always thought to pay attention.” You sit on the ground inside the circle, noticing the way the buzz of the workshop fades away once you’re fully inside it. “I’ve been paying more attention here. More magic to notice, I suppose.”

“And a new environment.” Kyle says. “It’s easy to get used to the ambient magic in familiar spaces. You’ll get more attuned to the castle the longer you stay.”

“I hope so. I get all tingly whenever we’re in a room together,” you say, laughing lightly.

He settles down across from you, close enough that his knees nearly touch yours. “You sure that’s just the magic?” he asks, flashing his pretty smile at you. “It could be something else.”

“Could it?” You give him a smile in return, but yours is sharp around the edges, reminding him to mind himself. You’ve gotten a little weary of the flirting— It’s more John’s fault than it is his, admittedly, but you’re just tired of all the attention. You don’t want to flirt, even if he is the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen, and even if you really do like him plenty. You just want to learn a bit of magic, and it would be nice if he could focus. “Or do you think that maybe being handsome has skewed your perspective to think that every young man and woman you meet is attracted to you?”

“Could be that,” he agrees, unperturbed. “But no matter. Lets get to work.”

He runs through some breathing exercises, half-familiar ones that you remember the old wizard making you do for hours on end. Luckily Gaz seems satisfied with your control, and moves on quickly.

He asks you to keep your eyes closed while he sketches runes in the air, asking you to identify them. “It will help you sense when someone is sending a spell your way, or using magic in your vicinity,” he explains. “Knowing what’s going on is the first step to knowing how to dispel it.”

The first rune feels warm, and tastes oddly of smoke. “Fire,” you say easily. Kyle hums with approval, and sketches a new one. It’s cool, and drips down your spine. “Water?”

“Good. This one should be a bit trickier.”

It’s not. You’re familiar with light spells, you come across them more often than almost anything else. “Light.”

He runs through a few more. Earth, ice, moon, sun, shadow, music, metal, lock, key. All components of spells, and not spells on their own, each one leaving impressions on your skin, tastes on your tongue. Kyle seems more and more impressed as he works through his list, and you’re both laughing before long, enjoying a lesson that feels more like a game. “You have a knack for this. Figures the old wizard couldn’t see your talent— I had to fight him to get him to take me seriously too.” He clicks his tongue thoughtfully. “Let’s see… We can try an actual spell now. You can open your eyes, if you like.”

You open your eyes to look at him, pleased that he thinks you’re doing well. He smiles so prettily at you that at first you don’t notice the way magic curls around you, sliding up your neck like warm hands. You’re too distracted by the way Kyle smells, cedar and spice and ink and paper, the little scar just below his cheekbone, his wide hazel eyes fringed by thick lashes, the soft curve of his lips… You’ve always thought him handsome of course, you have eyes after all, but you’ve never wanted to kiss him so badly before.

It’s a charm spell. Something harmless for you to practice shredding apart. It makes sense for him to throw something innocuous at you, but he’s misjudged how much you already like him, and the charm is throwing you well past friendly suggestibility to wanting so badly that your hands tremble.

Knowing what it is, it’s easy to see how to unravel it, but you don’t really care to. It gives you an excuse to do something you want to do anyway. You pitch onto your knees and lean forward, bracing your hands on his thighs. His sweet, forest brown eyes widen with surprise, and he catches your face between his pretty, long-fingered hands, holding you back before you can kiss him.

“Wait,” he says quickly, his voice a quiet, anxious rasp. “It’s a charm spell, Sweetpea, I didn’t mean— You don’t really want to kiss me.” His fingers curl around your neck, like he’s fighting every instinct in him to hold you away and not draw you closer.

“Yes I do,” you say. “I just want to blame it on the spell.”

“Prove it,” he says.

It’s as simple as pulling a loose thread from knitting, unraveling magic that tastes sweet as fine white sugar on your tongue. Your cheeks burn, embarrassment settling in your stomach heavily. You should probably still be angry with him, you shouldn’t be thinking about how plush his mouth looks, or about how his pretty eyes fix on yours intently, the fire that he hides so neatly behind his quick-wit and natural charm rising to the surface. But you don’t move, and neither does he.

“We probably shouldn’t,” you say softly.

“Probably not,” he agrees.

And still, neither one of you tries to move away. He wets his lips, his gaze settling on your mouth. You swallow nervously. “Kyle—”

“Hells,” he says, angling his head slightly and closing the distance, slow enough that you could pull away, but quickly enough that he won’t lose his nerve halfway. His mouth is as soft as you anticipated, lips sliding over yours slow and sweet.

You move closer, and Kyle shifts his legs to either side of your knees to give you enough room, hands sliding down to your waist. You hum against his mouth, wrapping your arms around his solid shoulders. He kisses you for a long while before his tongue slips between your lips. He licks into your mouth, moaning, and the sound is just as pretty as he is, sending honey-sweet arousal through your veins to pool deep in your belly.

It would be easy to kiss Kyle forever— He makes no demands, keeps his hands on your waist or curled around your back, toying with, but making no attempt to undo, the buttons that march up your spine. He feels safe, and you know that he won’t push you for more, the way John would. Kyle keeps himself in check, holds himself back. It makes you all the more ready to melt for him.

It’s several long moments before he pulls back, lips swollen and eyes hot and hazy like a summer afternoon. “Princess,” he murmurs, pressing a lazy kiss to your jaw. “I need to tell you something.”

There’s a soft chime from his desk, and John’s voice speaks into the workroom, as clear as if he were right there with you both. Kyle freezes, a hound caught with his nose somewhere it shouldn’t have been, hands tightening on your hips.

“Gaz? Is Sweetpea still with you?”

Kyle clears his throat. He looks at you so guiltily, you almost feel like you’re the one that’s done something wrong. “Um. Yes sir.”

“Good. The Lyudireki ambassador is here, and Kate too, if you’d like to speak with her before you join us, Sweetpea. I believe she’s gone to your room to wait for you.”John’s voice sounds amused. It makes Kyle nervous, if his grip is anything to go by. “Gaz, I’d like you to find Soap, and bring him to the green parlour. He can be a wolf, if he likes. It’s up to him.”

“Yes sir. We’ll be down in a minute.” The chime sounds a second time, and Kyle relaxes slightly. “Old man has terrible timing. Come on, Sweetpea. We’d better get to it.”

He stands and pulls you up along with him. "You didn't do anything wrong," you remind him gently. "I kissed you."

"No, I kissed you, Sweetpea. And it's my fault you wanted to. You wouldn't have if I hadn't charmed you." He sighed. "Price is going to—"

"Kyle, I can kiss anyone I want," you say stiffly. You resent the implication that a Price owns you, that he has any say in who you kiss or what you do.

"Well. I suppose so," he says doubtfully. "But we should go. You'll want to speak with Kate, yeah?"

Your stomach churns slightly. Kate has been notably absent for all this time, conveniently unavailable to explain. She knew. She knew everything, and didn't give you so much as a heads up. "Yes. I have some questions I'd like answered."

"Don't be too hard on her," Kyle said. "John didn't give her a choice."

"Everyone always has choices, Kyle. She should have told me what was going on."

"Would you have done things differently if she had?"

"What could be done differently? I'm not the foolish little girl everyone seems to think I am. I understand my position in all this better than anyone."

Kyle seems to have to response to that. He’s quiet all the way down the stairs, lost in his thoughts. You let him stay there.

It would be nice if everyone wasn't too afraid of what John might do or say to be honest with you. Although you do know that loyalty like he demands from his men isn't born from fear alone, or your father would never have been deposed. There’s love there too, and real trust.

Kyle leaves you at your door with a lingering kiss. You try not to blame him for the way his eyes dart down the hall before he does so, even if it makes you want to shove him away. You offer him a small smile instead, and step into your room.

Thanks for your patience everyone! I know it took me a hot minute to get this chapter out, but we're back, baby! And we're kissing Kyle about it.

Image credits: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 -

Divider by CafeKitsune - Flower Divider by Saradika-Graphics

#Cave writing #Heavy Weighs the Crown #Cod mw fanfiction #fantasy au #OC: Sweetpea #x reader #Poly 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #Farah baby I'm so glad you made it kick your boots off and stay a while #It's getting pretty obvious what's going on here but sadly Sweetpea believes in the good in others #So she hasn't fully clocked it herself yet #These chapters keep getting longer and longer fr

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kandlewick · 7 hours

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since its taking so long, im gonna drop a preview of my leona's ''i'll dry the villain's tears'....... this one is special because i unfortunately decided mid writing that i wanted it to be romantic but alas that means i had to scrap a lot of twst lore to fit my narrative hghfg so think of this one as an au to my usual entries. an interest check. these entries were MEANT to be strictly platonic but a few of them (leona, MAYBE azul and malleus (between lilia and the reader)), just gave me so many ideas.

SO IT IS UNFINISHED! its 4k words but still unresolved unless people like, want me to scrap twst lore as heavily as i did in this lmao

i'll dry the villain's tears pt. 3.1415926535897

you get reincarnated into a role that became the breaking point of the villain's story and you, be it an unwillingness to cause them harm or a desire to survive, must work hard to make sure they grow into a better (or at least safer) person.

all entries are USUALLY to be read as platonic however this one wouldn't go away. All are USUALLY meant to be taken place in the TWST universe accurate to the game but this one is special because I love leona and he'd be so cool as a manwha love interest.

You awaken one day with perhaps the largest bump you've ever seen placed nearly perfectly center on your forehead. You don't remember how you got it exactly but the two princes never left your side (Falena would not stop crying and despite his claims of laughter at your expense, you can tell his brother was equally worried), only being dragged away by their tutor as soon as they let their guard down.

You looked down at the hands on your lap and clutched your fists open and closed over and over again. Gone were your long fingers and wide palms, instead you looked down at the chubby hands of a child no more than six.

From what your handmaiden had told you, the three of you had been playing spelldrive together and Leona, in his eagerness to best his brother, had shot the disk perhaps a bit too strong and instead of flying in to the goal, it had changed course and struck you hard enough to knock you unconscious for the rest of the early hours of the morning.

You remembered this event. It's what led to Falena's betrothed sticking closer to him and farther from Leona. What once was a well balanced trio had become a teeter totter with Falena and her on one side and Leona alone, unable to change anything with what little weight he had to offer.

Falena's betrothed; that was you. From the story you had read, the two were deeply in love and ruled the kingdom hand in hand towards a brighter future... all while unknowingly leaving the youngest brother in the shadows, forgotten and alone and desperate. You couldn't afford for that to happen.

You don't see the two of them until late that evening. Falena looked exhausted, like the tutoring had beaten any last bit of energy he could spare and with a loud yawn, had eagerly hopped into the cot next to you on your right. Leona was slow to join the two of you but settled himself to your left, his shoulder bumping yours as you turned to give him your attention, curiously returning the gesture. Leona matched your gaze, looking you over for any signs of pain before he opened his mouth.

"You look ridiculous," he spoke aloud, glancing at your bruised forehead. Subconsciously, you reached up and checked the tender spot and gave him an unimpressed look.

“I only look like this because you can’t shoot a disk right.” You huffed, choosing to ignore his presence, instead cuddling up to Falena who was more than eager to reciprocate, easily wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulder and nudging your chin in a friendly hug. “At least your brother is being nice to me.”

However, despite your teasing voice, Falena was quick to come to his defense, “Leona’s just not good at showing he was worried about you. You should’ve seen his face when he saw you fall over, I’ve never seen him run that fast in his life.” Leona rolled his eyes but made no response as his brother laughed, choosing to settle himself in your cot while closing his eyes, his tail lazily curling up behind you. Your beastman tail - you don’t know when you would ever get used to that - sat itself besides his, curling the two into a gentle hold. Leona glanced over at you from the corner of his one opened eye but chose not to comment about it.

Even at your young age, you could tell that Leona communicated in a particular way. His words may be harsh, but his actions were tender.

“Mmm, someone had to.” Leona muttered, nuzzling himself deeper into the pillows, “Falena was too busy crying about you to be of any help.”

Falena made no effort to deny the claims and sheepishly smiled at you, “He is not wrong, haha. I was very worried for you! You should’ve seen the maid’s face when they saw you passed out in the field!” He reached out and plucked your hand into his. When you looked at him, you could still see the red dotting his eyes from how hard he had cried. It was no wonder your body’s original owner had fallen so head over heels for this boy. While he and Leona were brothers, they couldn’t have been more night and day.

“You shouldn’t have worried too much, Falena! I’m fine, really. Kifaji said that I should be fine in a few days.” You waved his worry off with your hand, gingerly pressing the tips of your fingers against the small lump, “There wasn’t a concussion or anything but he wanted to make s- Hm?”

Falena and Leona both looked up at you with wide eyes, both of their gazes making you feel small. You slumped in your seat and blinked at the both of them, silently feeling sheepish all of a sudden, “Is something wrong?”

“Why are you calling me by my name!” Falena looked almost scandalized as he let go of you, his hands floating at your sides like he was too scared to touch you, “Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?”

“Eh? Eh?”

“Looks like I hit her a little too hard.” Leona chuckled, watching in barely contained amusement as his brother’s soul practically floated out of his chest, “What happened to calling him, ‘husband’?”

This body’s former owner was a precocious little child, wasn’t she!!! You couldn’t believe the audacity, calling your ten year old fiance ‘husband’!

As required of any royal belonging to the Sunset Savannah, you were expected to build lasting relations with other tribes and honorable guests much like any other adult and as such, other than the two royal siblings, you were given many playmates. Some were older than you and some were younger, but they were many and varied and always tried to stay on your good side. And as such, they were exceedingly worried about you when you arrived late to your most recent playdate with a freshly bandaged head.

“My liege, what happened!” the youngest cried, quickly latching on to your arm, tears welling up in his shiny eyes, “Are you alright? Does it hurt?”

You waved them off with your hand, a soft but embarrassed smile on your face. Their eyes watered, their large elephant beastman ears flopping up and down wildly as they looked you over head to toe for any sign of injury. You could hear them loudly sniffling as they bit back tears. They’ve always been a bit of a crybaby from what your memories could tell you. A shy, but friendly young boy… if a little bit of a hypochondriac. One of your older playmates rolled her eyes but you could tell she was worried by the subtle way she refused to leave your side, glancing over at you from the corner of her eye.

“I can’t believe Prince Leona would do something as clumsy as hurting his brother’s fiance!” One of your newer playmates huffed loudly, her eyes narrowed in annoyance, “Really, he’s lucky his brother forgave him so fast - ah! You as well, it’s good you forgave him too!! He doesn’t deserve it if you asked me!” She huffed loudly as she played with your toys, her jaguar tail batting the floor loudly. She paid no mind to your two companions sounds of offense, instead choosing to meet your gaze from over her shoulder.

You blinked at her, your eyes wide in confusion. Your two other companions matched your expression, the two of them surprised she would dare to say anything like that outloud. Leona hadn’t meant to hit you after all! You were playing…

Your newest playmate, so new you could hardly remember her name scoffed at the three of you, obviously annoyed you didn’t join her in her thoughts. “For real, who does he think he is? He’s the second son, he should be bowing on his hands and knees at your feet! You’re the future king’s fiance, he should be grateful he’s even allowed to play with you two! W-”

You don’t know what came over you and why you did it, but you felt your body react to her words, and somehow, your fist made contact with her cheek sending her sprawling on the floor. The sound of her collapsing was loud enough to shock you out of your stupor, a dull ache throbbing around your knuckles. She looked up at you with wide eyes as she cradled her cheek, you staring down at her with equally large doe shaped eyes. You couldn’t believe you had just done that!

“Leona is my friend.” Your lips began moving before you could even think. You were firm on this even as tears began welling up in your eyes. Ah, you sighed. Even if your mind isn’t young, your body still is shaking like a leaf. The hand you had punched the child with quivered from nerves. “Dont - don’t speak that way about him!” Your voice raised in pitch, “His brother and I love him very much!”

The little girl bared her teeth at you, unwilling to take your actions lying down, “How can you say these things? He hurt you!” She hissed.

“It was an accident!” You matched her tone, the sadness quickly evaporating into anger, “Sometimes accidents happen when you’re playing! He’s good and kind and would never, ever hurt me! Ever!”

Your shouting was quick to alarm the servants stationed outside your playroom’s walls. Kifaji was the first one in, eyes sharp as he immediately separated you from the other children, stepping in the way with his back to you. “What is going on here?” He questioned. There was no room for nonsense in his expression and his words matched that as he gazed around the play area. The girl cradled her cheek as she glared at you, unwilling to speak up. She may have made the mistake of bad mouthing the second prince in the presence of other children, but she knew better than to say those words around another adult that wasn’t her own parent. Kifaji raised his brow at her silence before turning to your gorilla and elephant companions, silently questioning the two. They shrunk under his glare and made no move to open their mouths instead choosing to nervously shuffle closer to you.

You tugged on Kifaji’s robes, the fabric soft between your trembling fingers. Glancing over at you, he leaned down and crouched to match your gaze. While his eyes were hard and strict, you could tell that he cared about you and the princes. He would listen to you. You could trust him.

“She was talking badly about Prince Leona…” You whispered to him, “so I punched her.”

Kifaji made a face, but nodded his head slowly. You hoped he understood. With a heavy sigh, he gathered up his robes and picked himself up.

“Come along,” He gestured to the girl, “Let us find your parents. I believe the playdate has come to an end.” and with a gentle hand, he helped her up as she began dabbing away at her eyes but not before shooting you a glare from over her shoulder. You stuck your tongue out at her. As soon as the adults exited the room, you quickly reached up and wiped away the tears staining your cheeks before returning to your friends, the mood sufficiently ruined for the rest of the play date.

It wasn’t until later that evening that Kifaji returned, a cross expression on his face. The guards at his sides were quick to disperse as he approached you, his robes billowing out behind him like colorful plumage. With practiced precision, he kneeled down to your eye level and reached out, bringing your small hands into his. His rough hands itched against your soft ones.

“What you did today could have ended very poorly, my liege.” He spoke softly, but his tone was firm, “You must remember, your position here in the palace is not final. If you cause too much of a ruckus…”

Was the king’s advisor really telling you to ignore this? That you should let Leona be bad mouthed by those in power? You were quick to glare at the older man, ripping your hands away from him and taking a few steps back, eager to separate the two of you.

“I’m not going to let people say whatever they want about Leona.”

Kifaji, shocked, stared for a moment before narrowing his eyes, “This is what I’m talking about, my liege. You are too quick to anger. You must calm yourself. I am not saying you must ignore the problem, but what I am trying to say is, your position in the palace as Falena’s future spouse, is not permanent.”

You hated to admit it but he had a point. You bit your lip but said nothing, cowed under his words. It was the truth. If you wanted to protect Leona, despite having the best intentions, you couldn’t exactly expect to have the sway as an adult. You were a child and easily replaceable. A glorified playmate.

“That is why, my liege,” Kifaji brought himself to his feet, dusting off his robe with a flick of a wrist, “you come to me.”

You turned and looked at him, not expecting the protective glint to his eye. He nodded his head before continuing.

“I will make sure that these things are handled correctly without repercussions. As the king’s advisor, I am not so easily replaceable.” He chuckled, fixing his glasses with a precise motion, “I will admit I am not as… in touch with the other servants in the palace and diplomats are always so careful with their words around me, it’s difficult to gauge their true intentions but with you, they will surely slip up and speak more plainly then perhaps they should.”

You stared up at the man in awe. You couldn’t believe your luck! Kifaji was taking your side and was going to actively help you in your quest to project Leona. Maybe before he was never given the opportunity, never had the time to set aside to investigate. Maybe he never knew. Now, however, he was given the chance with you to defend the prince. You very nearly teared up but were quick to wipe them away as Kifaji laughed, his hand reaching down to ruffle your hair affectionately.

And so the two of you were quick to act, swiftly cutting contact with merchants and dignitaries that shared less than favorable feelings for the second prince. You and Kifaji would have monthly meetings together with snacks courtesy of the king and his wife as you spoke of matters in the palace. You had a special role, scouting out and spying on maids and soldiers that gossiped in the servant’s quarters. Nobody expected anything when you even brought in your two playmates, Magani and Akut (the gorilla and elephant beastmen respectively) to join in on the spying. This carried on for several years as you heavily vetted all coming through the palace all without letting Leona see the work you pulled behind the curtains. All the strings and wires were yours to control and you were going to make good use of the opportunities you were given.

But, for some reason, Leona never seemed to want to leave your side. While you worked on your schooling, he would sit and while away the hours under the light of the sun from his favorite perch right beside your desk. Even in this life he was a lazy lion, preferring the quiet you brought then the loud personality of his elder brother. Sometimes you would join him on his naps, your tails quietly intertwining in a silent embrace. It was a comforting feeling. Moments like this were always a relief after the hours you and Falena had to spend together in your diplomacy lessons. A lot was expected of you as the future queen of Sunset Savanna. There were many late nights where you both stayed up till the crack of dawn together, stubbornly unwilling to give up with tears in your eyes as you studied until your vision blurred. It wasn't an uncommon sight for Kifaji to find the two of you bundled up together with books piled at your feet in the early hours of the morning.

Afternoon lunch dates with Falena and Leona were also rowdy and fun. While Falena was always quick to stay by your side and fight for your attention, Leona was seemingly content with letting your future husband monopolize your time. It wouldn’t be uncommon for Leona to doze off while Falena tried to do ‘couple-y’ things with you

It was all perfect.

Until Falena was accepted into the Royal Sword Academy.

“You’re… breaking our engagement?”

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #leona kingsholar x reader

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archiveikemen · 2 hours

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Harrison Gray 2nd Birthday Campaign: Story (2024)

Chapters 1-3

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Warnings and FAQ

1st Birthday Campaign Story

I opened my eyes to the feeling of warm sunlight hitting the back of my eyelids, and saw Harry’s sleeping face.

(We fell asleep without getting dressed. Both of us have been really busy lately and haven't spent much time together, so we got a little too carried away last night…)

We finally had some quiet time last night and spent it together, but—

Harrison: Mm…

Kate: Good morning, Harry.

Harry, who had woken up once, frowned and shut his eyes again.

Harrison: … Good night.

Kate: It’s morning already. Please wake up.

Harrison: It’s my day-off today…

Kate: Harry! Wake! Up!

Harry finally opened his eyes when I yanked the sheets off to cover my body.

Harrison: You look amazing this morning, trying to seduce me?

Kate: I-I’m not!

Harry, groggy from being woken up, planted a kiss on my cheek.

Harrison: Sure looks that way to me, though.

Kate: Mmph, Harry!

He distracted me with a kiss on my lips and reached for the sheets covering my body.

Kate: N-No!

Harrison: … Is it because I went too hard on you yesterday?

Kate: That’s not the case.

Our interactions since morning filled my heart with both joy and embarrassment, but—

Kate: We made a promise to prepare for your birthday together this year!

Today's date is the 29th of May, a day before Harry’s birthday.

I tried to secretly plan a birthday party for him last year, but…

= Flashback Start =

Harrison: You’ve been avoiding me all day because you’re planning a surprise birthday party for me, am I right?

= Flashback End =

(The cake remained a surprise, but he easily found out about the party.)

I thought about how to go about the birthday party preparations this year, and decided that we would prepare for it together.

(Avoiding Harry while preparing for the surprise party made me feel guilty, so I’m glad I don’t have to do that again this year.)

(Moreover, Victor gave us two days off. That means we can be together throughout.)

Harrison: Where do we start?

Kate: First of all—

…

Kate: We’re baking the cake together this year!

After arranging the ingredients and equipment on the counter, Harry picked up the cake mould.

Harrison: … Isn't this too small?

Kate: I think it's enough, but would you prefer to have a bigger cake?

I baked a five-tier cake with Crown’s help last year, but we’re baking a single tier cake this year.

(Harry loves sweet foods, so he probably wants more cake to eat.)

Harrison: Knowing you, you definitely put a lot of thought into choosing this size for the cake.

Kate: Huh…

Harrison: I’ve never baked a cake before, so I guess this might be the right size.

I felt a wave of affection wash over me as I watched him put the mould back and think with his hand on his chin.

(Harry is always respectful of my thoughts.)

I tried my best to keep myself from smiling while reflecting on the kindness my lover always treated me with.

Together with the rather adorable Harry whose hands were unfamiliar with baking—

Kate: It’s done!

Harrison: My arms are sore from whipping the cream.

Kate: You were the one who decided to make so much cream because you wanted more to eat…

The cake with a generous amount of fruits as toppings looked good enough to be displayed at the storefront of a bakery.

Harry scooped up a mouthful of the leftover whipped cream from the bowl with a twinkle in his eyes.

Harrison: Open your mouth, Kate.

Kate: Yes? Mmph.

He shoved the whipped cream into my mouth, some of it getting onto the tip of my nose.

Harrison: Pfft…

Kate: Goodness! Don’t just shove it in my mouth like that all of a sudden!

Harrison: Haha… my bad. Here.

Harry’s face drew closer and he licked the cream off my nose.

Harrison: Mm… sweet.

Harrison: So? What are we doing next?

…

Kate: Next, we’re picking out a present for you!

I walked briskly through the shopping street, pulling Harry along behind me by the arm.

Harrison: We don’t need to rush. It’s not as if anything’s going to run away.

Kate: But what if the item you like gets sold out?

Harrison: What do you think I’ll choose as a present?

Harrison: … You’re being especially energetic this morning.

Kate: Of course I am. Today’s the day before your birthday.

Harry stopped walking and gave me a wry smile.

Kate: … Are you going to laugh at me?

Harrison: Yeah.

Kate: It’s been a while since we last went out together like this. We rarely get the chance to spend full days together, you know?

Kate: Even though this is to celebrate your birthday, it also feels like a reward for myself…

Despite living in the same castle, I knew from before we started dating that we wouldn't always get to be together.

(Harry’s missions and his job as a proofreader have been keeping him busy…)

Moreover, we’re total opposites of each other, so we often did our own things separately even on our off days.

We had a relationship where we respected each other’s likes without restricting our actions, and it suited us perfectly.

(But, still, spending time with Harry is my ultimate favourite.)

I stole a glance at Harry next to me and saw him frozen in place with his mouth opened, but he soon snapped back to reality and sighed.

Harrison: … That’s fine, no?

My cheeks started to burn when I noticed that his ears were red although he tried to hide his face.

Harrison: What are you turning bright red for?

Kate: P-Pardon me.

Harry took my hand with his usual carefree smile, our fingers intertwined.

Harrison: … Being with you makes me happy too.

Kate: What…

Harrison: Was that a lie or the truth?

Kate: … It’d be nice if it were the truth.

Harry pulled the hand he was holding.

Harrison: Then enjoy yourself to the fullest without worries. I’ll do the same.

We spent our date looking at clothes and going to a cafe, but…

…

Kate: Are you sure that’s all you want for your present?

The book in Harry’s hand was a recently published mystery novel.

Harrison: Yeah this is what I wanted the most. Thanks.

(As expected, he chose something that doesn't cost much.)

He seemed to notice my disappointment that he chose an inexpensive present.

Harrison: Isn't it the sentiment that counts, and not the price?

Kate: That’s true, but…

Harrison: All that matters is that you bought it for me.

Harrison: Besides… I’ve already received more than enough from you.

(What does he mean by that?)

When I cocked my head in puzzlement at Harry’s words, he stroked my hair fondly.

Harrison: Give it a good thought, okay?

He took his hand off my hair and held my hand.

Harrison: Alright, what’s next?

Gazing at Harry’s profile under the light of the setting sun, I took a deep breath.

(It’s okay, he hasn't seen through my “lie”.)

(I hope this lie remains hidden from him for the rest of the remaining hours.)

…

Afterwards, we enjoyed the dishes Victor prepared for Harry’s pre-birthday celebration.

…

Harrison: We’ve been out and about all day.

Kate: Are you exhausted?

Harrison: A little, but it's not too bad.

Kate: Fufu… I feel the same.

Kate: I’m looking forward to tomorrow.

Harrison: Yeah.

Kate: Eh…

Harrison: What’s wrong?

Kate: Nothing… I was just surprised to hear you say that you’re looking forward to it…

(Harry has always been one to think that he doesn't deserve to celebrate his birthday.)

No amount of imagining how his past birthdays must’ve felt like to him would make me truly understand.

Last year, I tried my best to make his birthday special without having to lie to him,

(But he didn't say that he was looking forward to his next birthday.)

Knowing Harry now thought of his birthday as something to look forward to filled me with so much joy, I felt a twinge in my nose.

Harrison: … Sorry to interrupt your emotional moment, but can I have what I want the most?

Kate: Whoa!

Harry suddenly pulled my arm, making me lose my balance and fall onto him.

He gently caressed my waist as he held me close enough to hear his heartbeat.

Harrison: … I want you. May I?

I nearly nodded in response to Harry’s whisper in my ear,

Kate: N-Not yet!

Harrison: … You're hiding something from me, aren't you?

Right when I thought I was in trouble, there was a knock on the door.

Kate: Be right there!

Harrison: Huh…?

I swiftly got out of bed and went into the hallway where a maid handed a tea trolley to me.

I expressed my thanks to her before pushing the trolley into the room and parking in front of Harry, who stared wide-eyed at it from the bed.

Kate: Harry! Happy birthday!

Harrison: What’s with that cake?

His eyes fixed onto the six-tiered cake on the tea trolley with the cake we baked together at the very top.

Kate: … I’m sorry, Harry. I lied to you.

I raised a finger.

Kate: The truth is, I had Crown bake the other five tiers.

Kate: But I knew that if we did the same thing we did last year, you’d figure it out.

Kate: That’s why, this year, I decided to make a cake together so that you wouldn't find out about it.

While Harry remained astonished, I pulled out a refined black box I had kept hidden.

Harrison: … What’s that?

Kate: There’s one more thing I hid from you. Actually, I’ve already bought you a birthday present.

I opened the box to reveal a mint coloured fountain pen.

Kate: I knew you wouldn’t choose something expensive for your present.

Kate: … But I wanted to give you a proper present.

Kate: I thought that if I had everything prepared in advance and did the same things with you, you wouldn't realise it.

Kate: Looks like I succeeded!

Harry’s lips curled into a smile as he gazed at my triumphant expression.

Harrison: You really are something else…

He caressed my cheek with his palm.

Harrison: … You’re always surpassing my expectations.

Harrison: I did think you were hiding something from me, but…

Harrison: If you were to do the same thing again, I wouldn't be able to figure it out just by looking into your eyes.

Despite his words, Harry looked happy and I held the hand stroking my cheek.

Kate: Let’s dig in, Harry.

I fed Harry a piece of cake with a fork, and he placed a hand on the back of my head and pulled me in for a kiss.

Kate: Mm, why?

While I was distracted by his non-stop sweet kisses, I felt his hand untie the ribbons on the back of my blouse,

Kate: Are we not eating the cake—

Harrison: We’re eating it together now, aren’t we?

Kate: This isn’t eating!

Harry was being more impatient than usual and I felt like I was going to drown in the sweet moment,

(But I must say it to him.)

Kate: P-Please wait a minute!

Harrison: … What?

He wore a dissatisfied look, but I straightened up and spoke.

Kate: Happy birthday. I’m glad I could spend it together with you again this year.

Kate: … What do you think of my lie?

After blinking in silence for a brief moment, Harry pulled me into a tight hug.

Harrison: … I used to think that someone like me didn't deserve to have his birthday celebrated properly.

Harrison: The lying fox’s fated ending isn't a happy one. No matter which fairytale, the fox is always the hated one.

In fairytales, the fox was a symbol of deceit.

I was well aware that none of the tales had happy endings for the foxes.

Harrison: … But all of that changed when you came into my life.

Harrison: There’s no one who would be happier about my birthday than myself, except for you. That’s why it doesn't feel bad to have been lied to.

I felt Harry chuckle on my shoulder and narrowed my eyes.

Kate: I’ll still be here to celebrate your birthday with you next year, and every year after.

Harrison: Any birthday with you by my side is the best birthday of all.

Kate: Really…?

Harrison: You’ll find out from now on, whether that’s the truth or a lie.

Harrison: … You’ll still be by my side next year and every year after, right?

I intended to remain by his side to find that out and be the first person to celebrate every one of his birthdays from now on,

Harrison: I told you, didn’t I?

Harry removed his shirt and his lips drew close—

Harrison: — Any birthday with you by my side is the best birthday of all.

Kate: Ah…

Last year, I wasn’t able to truly believe those words.

(I wasn't confident that my presence alone would be enough to make his birthday the best one ever.)

(... But I understand it now.)

This is the truth from you, a person who always lies.

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #cybird otome #otome #ikevil translations #harrison gray #ikevil birthday

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greenlighted · 1 day

Text

like the sunshine in the lazy days of june

january gloom // all time low

❛ there you are, and there you were (and theres things id like to tell you, but ill save it for another day) ❜

AO3 WC: 463

“potter, is there a reason you're calling me at seven in the morning?” “i have an early practice today,” harry laughed. “don't act like you weren't already awake. i just wanted to see if you wanted to grab lunch after?” “i would love to,” draco started, smiled to himself, but he knew it wasn't reaching his eyes, not that harry was even around to tell. “but?” harry asked, and draco could tell by the tone of his voice that he was smiling. “i would love to,” draco started, feeling his smile melt into something a little more genuine, “but, i’ve got no one to watch scorpius today.” “bring him along,” harry said, sounding like he thought it was the most obvious thing in the world. “what?” “i could even swing by andy’s and get teddy out of her hair early today if you think scorpius would be bored,” harry went on as if he didn't notice draco actively losing his mind. “we could do a little double date.” draco felt a felt a little breathless as he willed away the fluttering feeling in his stomach. he shouldn't be this affected by harry potter. and he isn't even sure why he is, as if he's somehow surprised that harry potter wouldn't ever even consider dropping him over a child. harry potter, who loved his godson more than anyone on the planet. harry potter, who had been reintroduced to draco through scorpius when he'd met him one day at his daycare’s pickup time when his mother was picking him up and had ‘made a bit of scene’ when he'd spotted harry potter coming to pickup his best friend teddy lupin. scorpius apparently had no idea that his favorite quidditch player was the same harry that teddy always talked about. draco had thought this was just a little bit amusing, truthfully. while he'd always found scorpius’ obsession with harry potter ironic, he'd felt relieved that he'd never realized how close he actually was to his idol. he knew that as soon as scorpius connected the dots that harry potter would waltz back into his life and ruin it without even realizing it. and draco would just let it happen. and let it happen he did. harry potter, of course, was just as aware of their situation as draco was. so, once scorpius had finally stumbled upon him and fell to pieces over it, harry potter had owled him and he knew he was signing his life away by owling him back. “well, in that case…” draco mumbled, “i suppose i could spare an hour or two.” “great! practice lets out at noon, then i’ll pop home for a shower and then swing by andy’s. meet at that little sandwich by yours around one?” “it's a date.”

♡ + ⟳

masterlist

#drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #hpdm #harry x draco #hp #microfic #my writing #drarry microfic #harry potter x draco malfoy #draco malfoy x harry potter #harry potter microfic #draco malfoy microfic #hpdm microfic

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stevesjockstrap · 19 hours

Text

I Hear the Morning Calling

For Monsterfucker May better late than never

Heavily inspired by @safk-art demo!Steve art 😍

Steve/Eddie | read on ao3 | rated E | post-Vecna, demogorgon Steve, monsterfucking, blood and gore

“We’re losing. She’s not able to do it. We have to do something,” Nancy hissed next to him. Vecna had been shaking violently from his viney suspension but now he was eerily still. El’s plan seemed to be falling apart at the seams.

Steve looked around for anything he could do to save his friends. They’d already used all of the Molotov cocktails and Nancy’s shotgun shells.

Vecna’s eyes popped open and stared directly at him for a long heart stopping second before they widened and closed off again. They were running out of time.

He looked desperately around at Robin who was clutching at her bag. He would never let anything happen to them. Then he heard Dustin screaming over the walkie. Everything was going to shit.

A burning hatred ran through him, sizzling through the exhaustion and lightheadedness he’d been pushing down since being attacked by the demobats. Before he realized he’d moved, he was sprinting towards the hideous hanging figure with a roar. Ignoring the girls’ cries from behind him, he leaped higher than he’d ever done during a basketball game, catching a vine in his hand before his open mouth closed over Henry Creel’s throat.

The hot thick blood shot down his throat, gagging and choking him but he held on. Taking multiple swallows of the bitter sludge automatically, he forced his jaw harder into the spasming muscle. Spindly fingers scratched across his back and legs, trying ineffectually to tear him off. The spurting of blood into his mouth slowed and he allowed himself to suck in a breath, yanking the vine in his hand.

Coming back to himself on the floor, he didn’t think he had been out very long. He could hear Dustin again on the walkie, Robin trying to get him to slow down to try to understand his loud rapid cries.

“They! Are! Coming!” Dustin’s staticky voice echoed through the empty room.

“Who?” Steve rasped. But then he felt it. In the back of his mind, a scurrying almost slippery feeling that was getting stronger. “The bats. They’re coming for us.”

“What? Steve, what the hell is going on?” Nancy’s no nonsense tone made him try to rethink what he had said.

“I don’t know. But we gotta get out of here.”

Scrambling to sit, he was pushed back down to the ground by Nancy and then Robin.

“Settle down. If the bats are really coming, we’re better off inside.” Robin made sense, but something was telling him they needed out of this house. Out of this room.

He looked around, and saw Vecna’s body. It was essentially ripped to shreds, his head barely connected to his neck and several bones poking out in cruel angles.

“Um, yeah, there’s that question, too. But I think I’m just going to erase that from my memory,” Robin winced.

Getting out of the upside down after that was a blur. The bats circled them, screaming wildly and zooming over their heads as they ran towards the trailer park, but none of them touched the group.

Eddie was a mess. Nearly grey, almost as torn to shreds as Vecna. But Steve was able to feel a very slow pulse, so he quickly slung him over his shoulder and they somehow got everyone hoisted into the correct dimension.

“Are we going to talk about it?”

Steve’s head popped up from where it had slumped into his chest. He’d not left Eddie’s bedside once he’d been released from his own hospital bed more than a week ago. Nancy was propped against the doorway with a wry grin.

“Talk about what?” But Steve couldn’t meet her eyes.

Nancy hummed and pulled a chair over next to him.

“You can’t hide it from me, Steve. I’ve been on the receiving end of your overbearing self.”

Steve groaned, looking immediately at Eddie’s face. But just like every other day he’d spent looking at him, his eyes remained closed.

“I’m not sure I have words. Even to myself. Yet. But you’ll be one of the first ones to know, I promise,” he huffed.

“After Robin,” Nancy nodded.

Steve laughed. “Yeah, I mean, probably. And, uh, hopefully someone else is ahead of both of you in line.” He rubbed at his face, then raked a hand through his disgusting hair with a grimace.

“Go home, Steve. I’ll stay. I know your number. You need to take care of yourself before you can take care of the rest of us.”

After he showered, he flopped across his bed in just his towel and was asleep before he had another thought.

He stood above Eddie, the taste of blood in his mouth again. The bitter thick sludge that had come from Vecna. When he’d killed Vecna.

Eddie was wailing below him, fighting against him. He leaned down, catching his flailing hands with his own and felt his face split into sections, opening impossibly wide as he bit hard into Eddie’s neck.

He woke up sweating in his bed, tangled in his sheets. He ran to the bathroom to look in the mirror, feeling over his perfectly human face.

“What the fuck,” he breathed.

A quick call to the hospital confirmed that Eddie was fine. He chugged a glass of water, pacing unseeingly around his kitchen, still rubbing across his face.

For the next week, he would get these quick bursts of pain in his head, and pressure like a migraine but none of his normal tricks helped. He didn’t have a fever, actually his temperature seemed to be going down.

Finally he just pulled the curtains in his room, covered his head with a pillow because still the dimmed light felt like ice picks and went to sleep.

The shrill constant noise woke him, and at first he couldn’t place it at all, pressing his pillow over his ears more forcefully, sitting up with a curse as it echoed through his house.

“What??” He groused out into the phone.

Thankfully not reacting at all to his grumpiness, Dustin cried out, “Steve! It’s Eddie. He woke up!”

The nurses were insistent they go into Eddie’s room in small groups, shaking their heads and rolling their eyes at the huge congregation of people who were adamant about seeing their friend.

Steve, Robin and Nancy stood surrounding his tiny frame in the hospital bed, somehow this sleep looking more peaceful than the last. Steve shifted on his feet, trying to ignore the pounding in his head and the nauseousness from the hospital smell.

“Eddie?” Nancy whispered, unable to help it.

Their friend twitched, his eyes flicking open quickly before closing again. “Why’s it so bright?”

Steve chuckled, thinking the exact same thing, and went to turn the lights off in the room.

“Thanks,” Eddie grumbled. The lack of use showed in his voice. Robin held out a cup with a straw and helped him take a few deep gulps. “Fuck, can you give me the Reader’s Digest version? Did I get hit by a train? A UFO? Did I eat the mystery meat in the cafeteria?”

They all snickered, Nancy sobering first. “You don’t remember at all? What’s the last thing you can think of?”

Eddie frowned, looking down. After a few moments of thinking hard, he looked up, shocked. “Chrissy, oh god. Chrissy is… and then Patrick in the lake. Fucking hell. Okay, I’m getting pieces now. The bats- is Dustin?”

Steve interjected quickly, unable to take the look on his face, “Dustin’s fine. You saved him.”

Eddie nodded, pulling in deep breaths. Steve reached out, taking his hand and breathed his own small breath of relief when Eddie held onto it.

“Everyone else?” Eddie grimaced.

“Banged up, stitched up, but alive and well. Well, uh, except for Jason.”

“No loss there,” Robin and Eddie said at the same time, grinning sardonically at each other afterwards.

The nurse came in the room and explained the teens were not waiting very patiently in the waiting room, and they agreed to swap out.

“Going straight to hand holding, huh? King Steve and his kindergarten moves,” Robin elbowed him.

Even more weeks later, Eddie was finally released from the hospital and Steve helped him up the steps to their new and improved government issued trailer. They’d offered them a house but both Eddie and Wayne had quickly declined. They were used to the trailer and the trailer park, but they could use another bedroom.

“Home sweet trailer,” Eddie laughed as he bounced on his new bed. Steve winced, worrying about his stitches still. “Don’t give me that look, mother hen. I’m fine.”

Steve sighed and waved him off, plopping his meager bag of stuff down on top of the dresser.

“Hungry?”

Eddie grinned at him. “Always.”

“Come in Eddie, helloooo? EDDIE COME IN, over.” Dustin’s loud voice echoed around his nearly empty room. Groaning, he sat on the edge of his bed for a second while the stars cleared from his vision.

“I’m here, Dustin,” he sighed.

“You’re supposed to say over. Over.”

Rolling his eyes, he laid back down with the walkie. “I’m over this conversation, Dustin. What was the voluminous emergency?”

“OH! Have you seen Steve? No one’s been able to get a hold of him for more than a week, and we just got to his house and it’s… weird. Even for us. Over.”

Eddie frowned. He actually hadn’t seen Steve in a while, which was not like him. After Eddie had been discharged from the hospital, Steve seemed to take over his watch, volunteering to get him back and forth to all of his appointments and therapies. Standing now, nerves quickening and his stomach tightening, he looked down at the walkie.

“Weird how? Over.” Ah shit, the kid had gotten to him.

“He’s built like a creepy nest, with leaves and sticks, but, uh-“

The silence hung heavy in the dark of his room, and Eddie shivered. He pulled back his curtains to peer out the window, suddenly feeling like he was being watched.

“Spit it out, Dustin,” he grumbled.

“Alright, but you asked. There’s a lot of your stuff in the mess… like a few of your shirts a-and the vest you gave him? It’s like he’s been sleeping with them. Over.”

As his eyebrows shot up at this news, something moved in the shadows outside the window. There was a flash of reflective eyes, too far off the ground to be the stray cat that he fed. Human’s eyes don’t reflect.

“O-okay Dustin, thanks for the nightmare fuel. Get home, it’s already almost dark. I’ll let you know if I hear from him. Over and out.”

He nearly dropped the walkie when the shadow moved again, closer to his window and he got a flash of jeans and brown hair. Thinking quickly but somehow not at all, he shoved the walkie into his back pocket and rushed out the front door.

Not allowing himself to call out to him, clearly he didn’t want to be found if he hadn’t spoken to anyone in a week, he tried to sneak as quietly as possible around the side of the trailer.

A noise a few feet away had him pausing, opening his eyes wider to try to see in the darkness towards the woods. It was eerily quiet, usually the trailer park was full of noise, even at night, car doors and people laughing and chatting, dogs and birds going on and on. All Eddie could hear now was his own heart beating in his ears.

His eyes jumped to follow the next quick movement, just inside the edge of the woods. Another flash of that perfect hair. Like Steve was beckoning him to follow. And Eddie was dumb enough to be lead.

Inside the tree line, Eddie couldn’t see much. But he could follow the small noises and what was surely intentionally snapped twigs under Steve’s feet.

Panting, he stopped to lean against a tree, “Fuck, where are we going, man?” He was getting irritated. Steve would know that he’d graduated from PT but he still couldn’t be walking miles through the woods.

There was a small huff that sounded close, almost sarcastic. Very like Steve. Then a cold hand was pushing his hair away from his face, resting on his sweaty forehead.

A stream of moonlight or a stray streetlight fell across the face in front of him, and he almost screamed. Steve’s eyes piercing into his own and that attractive mess of hair on his head compensated well for the rest of it, the petaled mouth and rows of teeth that appeared as he was apparently breathing in Eddie’s scent.

“Steve? Wh-what happened?” Eddie was proud of himself for not bolting away, seeming frozen to the spot at Steve continued breathing him in, the clawed hands running through his hair and grasping his hip.

One shoulder was raised and lowered, like the world’s most apathetic shrug. As if his newly transformed self wasn’t even worth discussing. But the way Steve was looking at him and touching him was sending warm buzzing down his spine, tightening his belly. And his own jeans.

Steve seemed to figure this out quickly as well. Could he smell it? Eddie groaned and then gasped when his giant wet mouth descended onto his neck, grazing those dangerously wicked teeth down his skin.

“Oh fuck,” he breathed. “Why is that so hot? I should be like running for my life. Ah!” His hips bucked forward as sharp claws ran down his chest, instantly shredding his already hole filled shirt. He could only pant and throw his head back against the tree as the assault continued down his front, then as he felt the cold hands approach his jeans he gasped out, “Hey, okay, let me do that, huh? My favorite jeans, you know.”

The salacious look he received in response could only be from one Steve Harrington. He almost laughed but instead moaned as the gaze went down to follow his hands, the shaking hands fighting against the button and zipper of his jeans. Maybe he should have let him rip them to shreds.

An inhuman growl left Steve when the jeans and his plaid boxers were kicked off his bare feet. Unable to help himself, Eddie wrapped a hand around his dripping cock as he watched the terrifying mouth open, saliva running off the petals and rows of teeth.

“God I am a freak, after all,” Eddie chuckled. “I’d apparently feed my dick to a wood chipper if it was attached to Steve Harrington.”

A vaguely appreciative noise rumbled out of the mouth in question, and Eddie couldn’t believe this was real as the monster in front of him lowered slowly to his knees, looking up under his still gorgeous eyelashes to peer at his hard length.

“If you kill me, can you make sure no one finds my body? I don’t want Uncle Wayne thinking I got myself into even weirder shit than usual.”

His train of thought quickly evaporated as a rough tongue came to slide up the underside of his cock. Trying his best to hold completely still, wary of all the teeth, he just watched as Steve wriggled closer.

“Don’t judge me if I come or pass out instantly please. I, um, I’m not the most experienced. And this is, well, this is a whole lot to take in.” He knew he was rambling, filling the uncomfortable silence between them and the woods.

The eyes staring up at him seemed unbearably patient and forgiving, however.

“How much of you is in there,” he wondered aloud.

Steve blinked at him and what could’ve been a smirk passed over his features before his cock was enveloped by the petaled mouth. His own mouth flew open, ready to scream at the pain he expected. But he only gasped as he realized the teeth were only just grazing him, creating an almost pleasant scratching tingly feeling, and the tongue was able to keep sliding under and around the head.

“Oh my god, Steve,” Eddie panted, unaware as his hands slid into the feathery locks. “Oh, oh sorry!” Yanking them away, he received the first actually scary noise and look.

The mouth left him and an indignant huff resounded from it. “Want it,” Steve growled.

Eddie nodded quickly, holding back the laugh at the petulant frown and statement. “You got it, Stevie. Just please keep going.”

With another small grumble, Steve waited for the shaking hands to return back to his hair before he allowed his mouth to wrap around his cock again.

He was glad the tree was there to hold him up, since it seemed Steve was going to give everything he had to this supernatural blowjob. Eddie didn’t direct him with his hands so much as just hold on for dear life, while moaning and gasping along.

“Please, gunna-“ Eddie almost screamed as the mouth was instantly pulled back.

“Not yet,” Steve rasped. “Turn around.”

Clawed hands assisted him pivoting to push his forearms against the rough tree, widening his stance to allow the wicked mouth behind him to — “Holy mother of Zeus!”

The rough tongue circled his hole as a wet hand wrapped around his cock, the other pulling at his thigh to encourage him to rut back and forth. He whimpered, unable to collect enough brain cells to form a sentence now.

“P- oh, please. Steve!” Everything stopped and a soft questioning noise came from behind him. “Can I come on your cock instead? Or, uh, next time? Sorry, didn’t mean to, uh-“

What could only be described as a giggle left the terrifying mouth behind him, and Eddie’s hand was pulled from the tree and licked.

“Yours.”

The hand was then pulled back towards his own hole and he tried to nod his understanding. He did not want the claws inside of him either, thank you.

“Jesus Criminy,” Eddie whispered as Steve used his own fingers to push into him, licking around the digits to encourage him to open up. The feeling of the rough clawed hands around his wrist as he fucked his own hand into himself was almost too much. Finally when he thought his brain was going to leak out of his ears, his hand was pulled back and released.

Then a blunt object was pushing against him and he saw stars. “Slow, oh my god, a little slower, baby.”

The name didn’t seem to phase him at all, but he got a soft noise and the cold hands held onto his hips as he pressed forward.

“Want it hard, but just- ah, once it’s in. God you’re big. Is that, like, a monster thing? Or just you?”

The cocky laugh he received didn’t exactly answer the question, but then he was pressing further in and he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

He wrapped his own sweaty hand around his leaking cock, whining and crying out as Steve fucked him hard yet holding him so gently with his clawed hands. As he got closer to coming, he leaned his head back onto Steve’s shoulder. He came spectacularly just as he bit into his neck.

When he could breathe and see again, jumping into his jeans, he found the walkie still shoved into his pocket. With a simpering look at demo!Steve sitting naked against their well-used tree, he pushed down the button.

“Hey, uh, Henderson. I f-found Steve. But, well, he’s a lot different now. Over.”

Title from Waiting in the Garden - Noon Shift

#stmonstermay #demo!steve #demogorgon Steve Harrington #steddie #stranger things smut #mine #monsterfucking #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fic

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The Girl Next Door: Chapter 7 (Hazel Callahan, Bottoms)

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Tag list: @avocifera, @academiareid, @fictionalgap @dynsdiary @sndixz @athenalive @lamoobsessions @eloud12

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Sorry this took so long, I just graduated college, was briefly dating a new girl that I hung out with like 5 times in one week, and this chapter is longer than usual. Def not my best work either, but I hope you guys still like it!

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The Girl Next Door

You hadn't been close with your neighbor Hazel for years. But you find her beat up in the locker room after fight club and all of that changes

Chapter 7

You have some intimate moments with Hazel when you do her makeup, and even go on your first date.

Word count: 5.3k

CW: Profanities, a little suggestive kind of? Changing clothes in front of each other and sitting on her lap to do her makeup, mentions of counting calories (nothing compared to negative body talk in the movie), not beta read

A few days after your movie night you start teasing Hazel on the car ride home. “You still haven’t given me one of your sweatshirts like you said you would.”

“Shit, you’re right. You can come over whenever and pick one out.”

“I can pick it out?” You question with curiosity.

“I’d give you everything you’ve ever wanted if I could.” She murmurs.

You tuck your hair behind your ear and clear your throat. “Well I will keep that in mind, but for now I think I’m okay with getting to steal one of your sweatshirts.”

You pause for a moment and it’s silent.

“Wait, remember you said we would dress eachother up in our clothes? We should do that, tomorrow.”

Hazel peers over, looking you up and down. “Alright, I’ll come over to your house before school tomorrow so we can get each other ready.”

“Come over at 6:30.”

“6:30?” She groans, “You seriously take that long to get ready in the morning?”

You jokingly roll your eyes. “I’m going to need extra time if I’m going to do my makeup and yours.”

“You can’t wear makeup if you are trying to fully embody Hazel Callahan.”

You gasp dramatically, purely to be dramatic. “How could you do that to me Haze? I don’t want to look like a zombie!”

Hazel punches your arm softly. “Are you saying that I look like a zombie, because I don’t wear makeup?”

“God no, the way you look, it’s literally perfect. I, on the other hand, need it to look like a normal human being.” You bite your lip when you realize what you said.

“Would you please shut up? If I’m perfect, that makes you extraordinarily flawless. There’s not a single girl at our school that could even try to compare to you. I can’t even think of any girl on this planet that is more beautiful than you are. I just wish that you could see yourself the way that I see you.” She takes a shaky breath, looking straight ahead.

“I, uh, thank you.” It’s like all the thoughts in your head have been picked up and thrown around by a tornado.

Hazel clears her throat. “I’ll still come over at 6:30, that way we can spend some extra time together.”

“You are going to wake up that early just to hang out with me?”

“I’ve already lost so much sleep thinking about… well I haven’t been sleeping well anyways. Might as well make the most of that extra time.”

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The next morning Hazel arrives at your house with your go to coffee order and favorite doughnut from Dunkin’.

“Hazel, you didn’t have to do that.” You could almost cry because she remembered this little detail and went out of her way to do something special for you.

“I wanted to,” she assures you.

“You treat me so well,” you murmur, gazing longingly at the girl you are in love with.

Hazel puts her hands on your shoulders and her blue eyes bear into your soul. “You deserve the best, never settle for anything less than princess treatment.”

Your lip quivers when you whisper, “I hope I don’t have to.”

Hazel pulls away and crosses her arms without breaking eye contact. “I would never treat you… I mean I would never let anyone treat you badly ever again. As long as I’m around no one is going to hurt you.”

Having maintained a cautious mindset for so long, your brain refuses to process what she has said. Responding is completely off the table. “Well I guess we better get started, yeah? Put on whatever music you want. My phone is already connected to the speaker. My passcode is 3900.”

Hazel picks up your phone and scrolls through your music. “You got a text from Isabel, in a group chat with her and Brittany, do you want me to check it for you?”

You are about to say yes, but remember that you were telling them about how excited you were to get to wear Hazel’s clothes today. How it almost makes you feel like you are her girlfriend.

“No!” You shout at her.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to..” she stutters, her voice sounding weak and wounded.

“No no no, that’s not it at all.” You explain more tenderly. “It’s just that- Isabel has been talking about something personal. Just want to respect her privacy.”

Hazel lets out a long breath that she must have been holding in. “Of course.”

She selects a playlist and locks your phone, placing it face down on the.

“Which one do you want to wear?” You ask her, gesturing to the 3 different ensembles laid out on your bed. Hazel looks over the options and goes for the outfit you assumed that she would. It was the least girly of the 3, and the closest to something she would normally wear. A simple white tank top and some casual khaki shorts. Though the shorts are much shorter than anything she owns, and the tank top is rather tight, the outfit is overall within her comfort zone. You knew she would wear whatever you chose for her without complaint, but you wanted to make sure she was comfortable, while still making it clear that she isn’t in her normal clothes. That she is wearing your clothes, that she is yours.

Hazel pulls a few articles of clothing out of her backpack. “I didn’t think to bring you options, I hope that’s ok.”

You giggle, “I trust you Haze.”

You turn away and start to pull off your pajama shorts, fully aware of what you are doing.

Hazel coughs in a way that sounds like she is choking. “Do you want me to leave while you change?”

“Doesn’t matter to me. We used to change in front of each other all the time. If you want to leave though you can.”

“You’re right, I’ll just change here.” Her voice trembles.

You continue to change, but you hear nothing, which means that Hazel has not moved to start changing. Most likely because she was watching you change, just as you had intended. You allow your long t-shirt to cover up just enough while changing the clothes on your bottom half.

When you pull off your top, exposing your bare back, you hear Hazel start to shuffle around and pick up the clothes off your bed. However, you can feel her eyes on you and the thick tension in the air.

When you finish changing and turn around Hazel is already in her clothes and her eyes are glued to you.

“Haze, you look great!” You smirk at her. She looks down at the clothes she is wearing and laughs. “Yeah I do look good. But not as good as you do.”

You glance at your reflection in the mirror and sigh. A white short sleeve button down under a tan argyle cardigan, paired with some loose fitting jeans. You two wear the same size clothes, but everything Hazel wears is oversized. Your clothes are mostly tight, and you know she is only wearing them because they are yours. “I do not look good, I look like somebody’s grandpa.”

Hazel pretends to be insulted. “Do I look like a grandpa to you?”

“You look good in this stuff, it just works. But me, not so much.”

“You would look good in a paper bag,” she casually throws out and then you watch her wince at what she just said.

“You need to get your eyes checked.” You giggle, “sit down so I can do your makeup.” You gesture to your desk chair, and Hazel makes herself comfortable while you pick items out of the drawers and off the shelves.

You stand slightly bent over, hovering above her when you promise her “I am not going to go crazy.”

The first step is sculpting out Hazel’s dark eyebrows. They are already nice on their own so it wasn’t too difficult.

“For your face I’m going to use blush and highlight, is that ok?” You hum switching out the products in your hands.

Hazel’s head turns to the side and concentrates for a moment. “I have no idea what that means.”

You smile as you cup her chin in your hand and she stares back in wonder. “The pink stuff and the shiny stuff. I’ll make it look as natural as possible.”

“I trust your judgment,” she mumbles, lost in your eyes.

The brush delicately adds a sweep of color to her already perfect face. She looks unbearably adorable after dabbing a hint of pink on her nose. When switching out the blush in your hand for highlight you notice a twinge of pain in your lower back from hunching over. You stand straight up and place a hand where you feel the pain as you flex and stretch.

Hazel’s delectable lips curve into a frown. “Are you ok?”

“Bending over, it's just a little uncomfortable. I would move the chair and sit on my bed but i don't want to accidentally get something on my blanket.”

“Sitting down would be better?” Hazel inquires, looking around the room for a solution.

“Yeah but it's probably easier to just stay over here.”

“You could just sit on my lap, right? Would that help?” She bites her lip, eyes wide and expectant.

Help. Most definitely. In more ways than she knows.

You nod casually, trying to hide your excitement and play it cool. “That would actually help a lot, are you sure you don't mind?”

The way she looks you up and down hungrily makes you want to check your pulse because it can’t be at a safe level. “Mind? Of course not. It's ideal actually. I prefer to keep you as close as I can.” You nearly pass out when she says that. Scratch that, you nearly drop dead and ascend into another plane of existence. This isn’t a side of Hazel you are used to but damn, you are loving it.

You sit down on Hazel's lap facing her with one leg on each side of her and the chair. You shift a little to balance yourself properly and she puts her hands on your waist to help steady you. “Don’t worry, I’ve got ya,” she chuckles.

You bite your lip as your head spins and Hazel just smiles patiently until you tell her “I’m going to to do eyeliner now.” She nods her head along to the music.

You catch her chin in your hand to stop her from moving her head. Hazel’s eyes go soft and flicker between your eyes and lips. Or are you just imagining it?

“Close your eyes,” you tell her and she does. You needed her to do so in order to apply the eyeliner, but not having her beautiful blue eyes looking at you temporarily minimizes the urge to kiss her.

“I’m just going to do a tiny little wing. I don’t want to bother with your waterline, it’ll be uncomfortable since you’re not used to it. Your eyes don’t really need any help standing out anyways.” Before switching from one eye to the other you stop to admire her divine features. As if she knows that you are watching her, and is trying to make you squirm, she licks her alluring lips. You feel like she’s inviting you into them but that’s not a signal you can risk misreading. You are so shocked that you drop the eyeliner on the floor. Hazel’s eyes open when she hears it hit the ground. You go to reach for it, but Hazel stops you. “I got it.”

She wraps one arm around you while her other reaches to the ground. She passes you the eyeliner and you mumble a thank you. Hazel then wraps her other arm around you and holds you tight around your waist. She closes her eyes again and you draw on the other wing.

In preparation for her opening her eyes again, you take a deep breath before instructing her to do so. Hazel’s eyes flutter and they are looking right in yours, as if she knew where they were, through the power of your connection. You tell her to look up, so you can apply mascara, but she doesn’t do it right away. Her gaze lingers on your face, like she is studying your features before she has to look away.

“I know that staying still isn’t usually your thing but I’m going to need you to for about a minute, is that ok?”

She looks over your face one last time before saying, “anything for you.” Then she looks up.

“I’m going to be super careful. I promise I won’t poke your eye out.”

She runs her hand up and down your back before holding you tighter. “I know, I trust you more than anyone else.”

You carefully apply the mascara, leaving Hazel's dreamy eyes unscathed and well defined.

“Do you have a lipstick color preference?” You ask, looking over at the vast collection.

She looks over at the array of colors and she points at one. “That one that you had on that day, with the coffee cup.” Did she remember the color from looking at your lips or her own?

You are extremely familiar with the shape of Hazel’s lips, you spend enough time looking at them, though you wish to become acquainted with them in other ways. You effortlessly trace their shape with lip liner and then swipe the lipstick over top. The addition of color only draws attention to her lips and you hope that they don’t catch anyone else’s eyes.

Wishing you could ignore it, every queer girl in school notices Hazel in the tight, low cut, tank top. PJ eyes Hazel like a predator stares down its prey. Fortunately, you get the chance to pick first at that afternoon’s meeting.

“I think I’m finally ready for a rematch, princess,” you coo at PJ. And that was true, this wasn’t an impulsive decision driven by jealousy, though you aren’t above that. It’s been a long time coming.

However, your rage has you quickly taking the offense. PJ dodges your first punch but your second one hits her square in the jaw and sends her stumbling backwards. Her eyes squint and her lip curls as she regains her balance. You just smile at her and it makes her even more angry.

PJ charges at you and is met with much more force than she was expecting. Your hands are on each other's shoulders, trying to push down your opponent. You head butt her instead of continuing the power struggle. It hurts, but it’s obvious that it hurt PJ more when she looks dizzy, holding her hand to her head and says “fuck!”

You don’t show her any mercy, she’s pushed to the hard gym floor before she knows what hit her. PJ sits up on her hands like she is about to continue, but she just shakes her head in defeat. You have to bite back a smile as you pull her to her feet and she sneers at you.

PJ spends the rest of the meeting glaring in your direction and in all honesty, it makes you feel great.

At the end of the meeting Josie announced that tomorrow is going to be a bonding day.

“You looked so pissed at PJ today,” Hazel laughs on the car ride home.

You tuck your hair behind your ear. “I might have been.”

“Did she do something?” She sounds protective and ready to fight.

Yes. “No. It’s just that she… she’s just PJ.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Hazel laughs, sounding relieved.

“How do you feel about having a bonding day tomorrow?” You wonder out loud, the question for the both of you.

“It was actually my idea,” she announces confidently.

“Josie made it sound like it was her idea. Her and PJ are starting to get popular, well less unpopular, and it’s really starting to go to their heads. Like I get it, they are the ugly, untalented, gays, and never got any positive attention before now, but they need to get their egos in check.”

“I hadn’t really noticed it until you pointed it out,” Hazel mumbles.

“They also don’t appreciate you enough,” you spat, disgusted by the thought of someone mistreating Hazel.

“Maybe,” she whispers.

“You deserve better, Hazel, the best.” The reminder is stern. “You should stay away from people like them. Stay close to the ones who treat you like the special person you are.”

“Well you do,” her puppy dog eyes are looking at you like you make the world turn.

“Of course!” You put your hand on her thigh. “No one is more important to me than you are.”

“You really know how to make a girl feel like she’s the only one in the world,” Hazel laughs shyly.

“That’s because you are.”

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The members of the fight club sit in a circle. You are sitting next to Hazel, and when she isn’t looking Brittany gestures for you to get closer to her.

You slide closer to Hazel and when she notices she moves her knee so that it's touching yours. She smiles at you and you return it, but you know you must be blushing hard.

The discussion starts off a bit awkward, but it’s not too long before everyone gets comfortable and begins sharing. After Brittany vents, Hazel starts to share. She talks about what she has been going through with her mom and you are surprised, why hasn’t she talked about this with you? As sad as you are to hear about it, she is so cute when she talks about how happy she is to have made a bunch of new friends. Then PJ, being the dick she always is, cuts Hazel off. You keep your anger contained but you will not be forgetting about this. You put your hand on Hazel's leg to show her that you are listening and that you care about what she has to say.

The meeting gets cut pretty short after an interesting story from Josie about juvie, that for some reason sounded vaguely familiar. You, along with several other girls, didn’t even get to share.

When you go over to your backpack you pull out your water bottle to take a drink. You notice that PJ’s bag is right next to yours. So you ‘accidentally’ dropped the bottle, spilling out the full contents on PJ’s bag. You quickly grab your own bag and go to find Hazel. By the time you are standing next to her you hear PJ yell “What the hell! My fucking bag is all fucking wet!”

Everybody turns to look and Hazel notices the shit eating grin on your face. “Did you…” she questions and you just laugh. She starts to laugh too, but covers her mouth with her hand so that it isn’t obvious. You can still see it in her eyes though and it’s adorable.

“We should probably get out of here, right?” You ask her and she just grabs your arm to pull you away, the two of you stifling laughter.

As you walk towards your car in the parking lot you hear Isabel yell “Hazel! I have something for you!”

She tries to run after you and Hazel, but she ends up shuffling with little steps because of her high heels.

Isabel hands something small to Hazel and it’s a… Chili’s gift card?

“You mentioned craving chips and salsa the other day and I figured I would get-give this to you. Someone, um, gave it to me, but ya know, I’m watching my calories,” Isabel explains.

There is no way that anyone who has ever met Isabel would give her a gift card to a restaurant that didn’t have at least 1 Michelin star. And watching her calories? Yeah her mother was constantly pestering her about it, but she literally just had ice cream the other day.

Hazel is so endearingly gullible that she buys it all.“Thanks Isabel, that’s so nice of you.”

Isabel can hardly contain herself. “You two should go together, wouldn’t that be like, so fun?”

“That’s a great idea. I think it would be a very fun d-“ Hazel pauses for a moment, “a lot of fun.”

After thanking Isabel again, you and Hazel get into the car. She starts fidgeting with her rings. “Would you maybe want to go out to eat tonight? I know it’s Friday so you might have plans or something but if you’re free…”

Isabel had said she had something fun planned for tonight, but you know now that she must have been referring to this.

“I would love to.”

“How does 7 sound? I can drive.”

You nod with a shy smile, though bubbling with excitement.

You don’t want to assume anything, but this might actually be a date, so you are treating it like one. Preparing the way you would for any other date, you get started early to make sure everything looks perfect. You lay out a go to date outfit, one that you know you look hot in, and you do your hair and makeup the same way you always do, it looks good but also like you didn’t put too much effort into it.

You are buzzing with excitement when you walk outside to meet Hazel. She’s already sitting in her car. Her expression makes it look like she feels absolutely defeated, but it melts away into a dreamy daze as soon as she lays eyes on you.

Hazel puts on a playlist that she says she made just for the two of you, and it makes your heart flutter.

As Hazel drives you notice her glancing over at you every chance she gets. It makes you wonder if something is wrong with your hair and makeup.

“What?” You ask her nervously.

Hazel raises one eyebrow and tilts her head to one side. “What do you mean?”

“Why do you keep looking at me like that? Did I forget to brush part of my hair or something?” You anxiously bite your lip.

“No!” she yells and it makes you jump a little.

“Not at all!” She says in a softer tone, trying to recover. “You just… you just look, like, amazing.”

You play with your hair to distract from the warm blush you feel creeping across your face. “Awe, thanks Haze. I just wanted to look nice I guess.”

“It’s just Chilli’s.” God, this girl is so oblivious.

“I know, it’s just that…” you huff and decide maybe you shouldn’t say anything. “Never mind.”

“Cmon, just tell me,” Hazel groans dramatically to make you laugh. Then she pokes your arm. “You can tell me anything.”

“I just wasn’t sure if this was like, I don’t know, this is going to sound absolutely ridiculous, a date?” You cover your face with your hands because you are so embarrassed.

“Hey, hey, it’s ok.” Hazel’s comforting voice reassures you.”I was scared to call it a date, but I really really want it to be a date.” You uncover your face as your jaw drops all the way to the floor. The anticipation is killing you until she finally says “so if you want this to be… it’s definitely a date.”

“For real?” You are practically bouncing up and down in your seat.

“Yeah of course babe,” she smiles looking over at you, putting her hand on your leg. It makes you so happy that you aren’t even concerned about how that might make her bad driving even worse.

You put your hand on top of hers for a reality check, to know that this is actually happening, and not a dream. “I can’t believe this is really a date.”

“Me either. Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?” Hazel really should be looking at the road more but you are enjoying her attention too much.

“Probably not as long as I have.”

Her face is lit up by her smiling and laughing, she is shining like the sun. “I doubt it. Let’s just say it’s been a really long time. But no need to compete here, right? I know I’m winning either way.”

You nod in agreement. “Very true.”

The rest of the car ride isn't awkward per say, but you're both very nervous, in a cute way. Instead of trying to force a conversation while processing everything, you take the time to appreciate the playlist that Hazel made, and sing along to the familiar songs. The songs that you don’t know are poetically sweet.

This is actually happening. You absolutely wanted this to be a date, and you prepared by looking good. But emotionally? You never bothered to hype yourself up for this, like a FOOL. You start nervously picking at your cuticles.

When the car comes to a stop you finally have the nerve to look back over at Hazel. She’s already looking over at you, her face is excited more than anything else, but she still has a death grip on the steering wheel.

“Are- are you ready to go inside?” You ask, trying to keep your voice steady, looking at Hazel's white knuckles. She finally realizes what she’s doing and quickly places her hands in her lap and nods enthusiastically. “I’ve been ready for this for a long time.”

Hazel walks a few steps ahead so she can hold the door open for you, and when the hostess brings you to your table she pulls out your chair.

You start looking down at the menu to see what you want. When looking up at Hazel to ask if she has any ideas, she hasn’t even picked up her menu yet, she’s just watching you, starry eyed.

You giggle and point to the menu “aren’t you going to look at that?”

“I’d rather look at you,” she mumbles and leans her head on her hand.

You put down your own menu. “Oh come on Hazel, really?”

“I’m totally serious. I’m finally on a date with the most amazing, beautiful, girl in the world. How am I supposed to focus on anything else?”

You study her face, making sure that you can picture her like this from now on and forever. “You really are just the cutest human to ever exist.”

Hazel sits back up and drops both her hands to the table. “Me?”

“Yes you! Just look at you! You are so sweet and funny and compassionate and empathetic, just anything you could ever want in a...” The waitress cuts you off. “Can I get you guys anything to drink?” She asks and sets down a bowl of chips and salsa.

It’s very difficult to even think about what you want to drink. You almost called Hazel your girlfriend. No matter how bad you want her to be, you are happy that you didn’t. It’s too scary to say out loud, even though you’ve been married for years in your head. Verbalizing it would make it real, and real things hurt much worse if they don’t work out.

Hazel is looking at you, clearly hanging on to every word you say, wondering how that sentence was supposed to end.

“I’ll have a, uh, lemonade,” you tell the waitress without looking away from Hazel, your eyes wide and your lips slightly parted, dying to utter one last word that would change your life forever.

“And for you?” It doesn’t even seem like Hazel heard that.

You smile awkwardly at the waitress and tell her “sprite.” She nods at you confused, “I’ll have that right out for you.”

When she is walking away Hazel finally notices that the waitress was there at all, and she looks a little embarrassed.

She starts adjusting the collar of her shirt, even though it looks fine, so you ask, “do you uh, want an appetizer?”

You can tell she is still longing to continue your previous conversation, but you just aren’t ready for that right now. She doesn’t even bother to look at the menu. “I’m good with chips and salsa. But if you want something I’ll share it.”

“I don’t think I’m that hungry right now.” That’s because nerves are fluttering in your stomach.

“Me neither,” Hazel smiles shyly.

You shift around the way you are sitting to try and expel some of the nerves. Hazel mirrors you, moving around as well, settling with one knee tucked under her. You start to eat some chips and salsa, trying to collect your thoughts, before looking back at the menu.

“I can’t decide between the honey chipotle chicken tenders and the chicken bacon ranch quesadilla,” you sigh.

“Why don’t you just get both?”

“I’m not hungry enough for an appetizer Haze,” you giggle, “I’m definitely not hungry enough to eat two dinners.”

“I don’t know what I want so we can just get what you want and share it.”

“Hazeeeeee,” you drag out, sounding almost a bit whiny. “Don’t be silly, just order what you want, I can flip a coin or something.”

Hazel slides her menu over towards you and looks away from it. “I just want you to have what you want. Besides, we always like the same things anyways.”

You place your menu on top of hers. “Fine, but you have to pick next time so that we are even.”

“Works for me,” she hums in approval. The two of you are just staring at each other, wondering where to take the conversation from here.

Next thing you know the waitress is putting down your drinks and taking your dinner order.

Hazel finally looks like she’s gotten herself together after your earlier conversation.

“I can’t believe you dumped water on PJ’s bag,” she laughs after the waitress takes the order and walks away.

“That bitch had it coming. I hate the way her and Josie brush you off, like they are better than you. They take you for granted, who do they think they are?”

Hazel bites her lip and looks down glumly. “I guess I’m just used to being treated that way.”

You cross your arms over your chest and sneer, “Well anyone that treats you like that has to answer to me now.”

Hazel laughs, even though you are very serious. “Are you going to beat up everyone that doesn’t treat me right?”

“Yes, actually.”

“If that’s the case I will punch your ex in the face if I ever get the chance.”

“That’s a deal.”

You wouldn’t call it gossiping, it’s more like discussing, when you start talking about the unfortunate relationship circumstances of other girls in the club. Like how does Isabelle put up with Jeff? Is Brittany single because she is too attached to Isabelle?

The rest of dinner goes well, and you listen to the playlist Hazel made on the car ride home.

She walks you to your front door and gives you a hug. With her arms still wrapped around your waist she pulls the upper part of her body away from you to take a good look at your face. Hey eyes wander over you dreamily until they stop on your lips. As she leans in you close your eyes, only for her to press her soft lips to your cheek.

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