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mingtinysworld · 16 days

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Don’t Hurt Me

Pairing: kang yeosang x fem!reader

Genre: smut

Word Count: 2k

Summary: The presence of a killer is made known on the news. Little did you know, you would have your own encounter with the man, experiencing a night you won’t forget.

Warnings: MDNI, mute yeosang, “psychopath killer” yeosang, mention of a knife, clothed grinding, unprotected sex (wrap it up folks), handjob, couple clit slaps

NOTE: the sign language is the italics in terms of conversation

A/n: lowkey this idea was much better written in my head💀 but I hope you like it! I tried to challenge myself with a new concept, and honestly imagining yeosang in this role got me hot and bothered so yeah. Please like, comment and reblog!! - J

It was a late Friday night and you finally got off of work, completely ready for the weekend. To celebrate, you found yourself drinking at the local pub, which is conveniently not frequented by others often. You lazily stir your drink as you lean your face in your hand, watching the tv with an detached frown.

There’s no one around at this late hour. Only the barman and you occupy the space, giving you the option of sitting wherever you’d like. The sports channel gets switched off all of a sudden, turning to the news. You lift an eyebrow in slight interest, trying to see if there’s anything worth paying attention to.

“We present tonight’s news with great urgency. There’s been a dangerous man spotted around town. His face hasn’t been revealed, but he is going around killing individuals. Stay diligent, and if you see anything suspicious, call 911 immediately.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. This little town has stayed relatively peaceful for the 7 years you’ve been living there, so imagining a killer going around shocks you. You know you should head home, but the warmth is pulling you down further in your seat.

Suddenly you can feel a cold breeze brush past your shoulder and you shiver involuntarily. You lift your head up from the counter and almost fall backwards from the shock. There’s a newcomer sitting next to you, very closely.

He has long, silky, sandy blonde hair. His nose is sharp and jaw so sculpted he looks almost statue like. His eyes are looking deeply into yours and you could spend at least an hour trying to decipher all the emotions residing in them. He’s got deep, dark eyes, that are nothing short of being sinful. It’s as if he’s silently beckoning you to fall headfirst into his gaze.

After a few moments of astonished staring at the stranger, you compose yourself and attempt to sit up as straight as possible. You straighten up your spine and make direct eye contact.

“Hey, how are you?” You ask, trying to not sound overly inquisitive. You feel alarmed for a split second when you see him lift up his hands from his lap. You involuntarily lean back, trying to put distance between you.

“Do you know sign language? I’m mute, but I can talk through writing as well.”

Your heart rate immediately goes down. The poor guy was just trying to communicate. Coincidentally enough, you actually do know sign language. Turns out the four years of ASL classes in high school paid off after all, and you feel grateful to your teachers. You instantly sign back to him.

“I do know sign language actually. What brings you here today?”

He gives you a cute, crooked smile and leans in a tiny inch closer.

“I saw a pretty girl sitting here, thought I’d keep her company.” He finishes off with a smirk.

You can’t help your surprise at his blatant flirting, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t like it. Trying to match the vibe, you flirt right back.

“Wow, I’d love the company of a very handsome man actually. Thank you.” You send a wink and immediately cringe at yourself. What is wrong with you?

He opens his mouth in a silent laugh and you can’t help but admire his perfect teeth. He really is a beautiful man, the type to catch the attention of anyone and everyone around him. You can bet that even your most straight friends would want to get in his pants, no questions asked. He notices your distracted state and waves a hand across your face.

“What are you thinking about pretty girl?” He asks.

You flush from being caught staring at him. You’re thankful that he can’t read your mind, but from the confident tilt of his head it looks like he can tell anyways. You think of an excuse but choose to tell the truth.

“I just think that you’re very pretty.” You say honestly.

His face brightens at your admission, and he scoots a little closer. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and you feel desire bubbling deep within. You can feel the soft puff of air from him against your own mouth and you dart your eyes between his eyes and lips. You close the distance between your bodies and slot your lips against his.

He moves along with you, breaths synchronizing. He slides an arm behind you, holding onto your waist with a gentle tug. His body warms you up and you melt into his touch, making you completely disregard the fact that this man is still a stranger. You cling to the edge of his shirt tighter when you feel a sharp, thin object against your ribs.

You pull back with a start and find that you’re held still by his strength. As you look into his eyes, you note with slight panic that his eyes have changed dramatically. He’s looking down at you with an excited malice, as if he’s looking forward to destroying you. You shrink down with dread, realizing that you’re utterly fucked.

You take a subtle glance at the tv which is showing the news still, and he catches the look, shooting you a toothy smile.

“Yeah, that’s right, I’m the ‘psychopath.’” He admits somewhat proudly. “I won’t hurt you though sweet thing. Not unless you want me to.” He drags a cold finger down your jaw, lightly holding you in place.

He removes the knife away from you, gazing at it fondly. “This little friend of mine has been with me through some things. Isn’t she beautiful?” A shudder goes through your body as you look at the sinister shine of the blade. He’s looking at you expectantly, wanting to hear an answer. You don’t bother using sign language anymore as he can hear perfectly fine. You only used it out of consideration, but there’s no more consideration left for him.

“I couldn’t care less about your stupid knife.” You spit with venom. You want him to be offended, to burst out in anger, but he only gives you the most irritating grin. It’s as if nothing can phase him.

“You’re so cute,” he shakes his head in what appears to be endearment. “I can’t wait to be buried in you.” Your eyes widen at that and you feel an involuntary fluttering in your core. You can’t believe that you’re getting turned on right now. The situation is absolutely absurd, a killer is sitting in front of you, and you’re getting your panties wet.

His eyes follow the movement of your thighs, trying to gain friction against each other. He splays out a hand against one thigh, keeping you still. You look at him with both shame and lust in your eyes, and he mirrors the latter. With a glance to the bartender, who appears to be heavily involved with his phone, he grabs your hand and drags you out of the bar.

You pull back slightly, making him stop in his tracks. “Wait, I want to know what your name is.” You ask him.

He looks intently into your eyes and answers. “My name’s Yeosang.”

Before you can say anything he drags you forward again. You walk for a few minutes until you reach a very shiny looking car. At a closer glance it appears to be a Ferrari. You look at Yeosang with a surprised look and his shoulders shake with a silent laugh.

“What, Princess? Were you expecting a trashy car from me?”

“I guess??” You say uncertainly with a shrug. He shakes his head again and opens the door for you. You get in and he closes the door after him. You sit there awkwardly for a second, not sure if you should do anything. Yeosang breaks you out of your thought however when he attacks your lips.

His lips are on yours in a flash, and you’re fighting with tongues. He squeezes your hip and slides his knee in between your legs, subtly rubbing against your now very wet panties. You should feel mortified, but all you feel is desire.

You grind against his clothed knee, and your clit catches it at an angle that makes you moan into his mouth. He grabs hold of your ass and moves you against him harder, eliciting pathetic mewls from you. You shockingly feel your climax approaching very quickly, and so could Yeosang apparently, and he immediately stops his movements. You whine in complaint but he shushes you with another intense kiss.

He quickly rids of his pants and your panties and pumps his cock a few times. You eye his length and your mouth salivates an embarrassing amount. You choose to give in to your temptations. You spit on your hand and slide it up and down Yeosang’s cock. He jolts in surprise but lets out a pleased hum, covering your hand in his, following the up and down motion.

If he wasn’t addicted to you already, he definitely is now. Seeing your tiny hand jerking him off sets off fireworks in his brain and he feels short of breath. He feels about ready to burst so he gently takes your hand away and has you lie down. He hovers above you and you can’t help but vibrate with anticipation.

He slides in slowly, filling every inch of space inside you. You arch your back in pleasure and throw your head back. Yeosang watches your reaction with eager eyes, needing you to feel like a goddess. He then watches your cunt sucking him in hungrily and loses all composure.

He pulls out until the tip is left, and slams back in with so much force your back bounces on the seats. He hits your sweet spot with every thrust, making you see stars, and you babbling incoherently by this point. You grab onto whatever you can find, his shirt being one of the items.

He slaps your clit harshly and you cry out at the sting. He slaps it two more times, leaving you a sobbing writhing mess. A knot tightens in your stomach and Yeosang can feel you clenching around him. He grits his teeth tightly and somehow thrusts even harder.

A few more sloppy thrusts later you’re coming undone around him. Your stomach convulses and your legs can’t seem to stop shaking. He pulls out and comes all over your stomach, ropes of cum coating your soft skin. He hangs his head and lets out a few deep breaths.

You close your eyes and bask in the afterglow. Quite literally, because the light of the lamppost is hitting your stomach and illuminating his cum brightly.

He looks around for something to clean you up with and finds one of his spare shirts. He cleans you the best he can and caresses your flushed cheek. You flutter your eyes open and find him looking at you with adoration, corners of his mouth lifting slightly.

He signs “thank you” and you let out a chuckle. “I should be the one thanking you, Yeosang.” He smiles softly and proceeds to put your clothes back on. As soon as the band of your skirt is snapped back onto you, you hear the sirens.

Yeosang stiffens in place, and looks at you with a distressed tilt of his eyebrows. He looks about ready to flee, but he hesitates. He looks around for something and you look on curiously. He finds a pen and paper and writes down some digits. He hands it to you and you see that it’s a phone number, along with an address.

“Come find me soon.”

With a mischievous wink he leaves the car and disappears into the night with the sirens fading away. You stay there for a bit, completely stunned with the turn of events. You can’t believe he just left you and the car like this, but you also can’t get over the intense passion you two shared. Slowly you get out of the car and head to your apartment where you should’ve been all along.

You do your regular nightly routine, get into pajamas and set your alarm.

You’ve got an important trip tomorrow.

#ateez #mingtinysworld #ateez smut #ateez fic #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fanfic #atz yeosang #kang yeosang smut #kang yeosang x reader #yeosang #ateez yeosang #yeosang smut

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atinylittlepain · 1 year

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Apothecary - Chapter Two

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

everyone's got something to say about her, and Joel doesn't know what to make of it. when he returns the favor he owes her, he tries to get some answers up in the mountains and away from the wagging tongues of Jackson.

warnings | 18+ angst, mentions of death, spooky-ooky vibes, people being superstitious dickheads

a/n | thank you all for the love on the first part of this series! i just got so excited i couldn't help but write the second part :) keep letting me know what you think, my inbox is always open and i love to hear from you!

.................................

“My son had a cough since he was two years old. She cured it with whatever she keeps bubbling on that stove of hers.”

“I had a rash that just wouldn’t go away. She gave me a balm that cleared it right up. A godsend, really.”

“Wouldn’t be alive today if she hadn’t nursed me back to health with all those herbs and plants she tends to.”

“She talks to animals. Calmed a bucking colt with a whisper– I saw it myself!”

“I heard that infected don’t even notice her. Just walk right past her. That ain’t human, if you ask me.”

“That cat of hers spies on people and brings all their secrets back to her. You can’t tell me that’s a normal cat, not with the way it stares at folks.”

“Some of the women say they’ve seen her out in the middle of the night, dancing naked in her backyard whenever it’s a full moon.”

“I don’t know about dancing naked, but I have seen some strange lights coming from her shop on my way home from the Tipsy Bison. Lord knows what she gets up to in there.”

“She curses men. Lures them up into the mountains and puts them under her spell. But they always end up dead.”

“Dead?”

“As a doornail. It ain’t a coincidence that any man that crosses paths with her seems to wind up with one really unlucky patrol shift. Luck’s got nothing to do with it, lemme tell you.”

Even though Tommy told him to forget about it, Joel’s been doing a bit of recon, asking people around town about her, and every new anecdote only further confuses him. It seems like everyone’s got some sort of opinion about the resident witch.

It has shocked him, really, how openly folks call her that. Even the ones that speak highly of her. He had asked Ellie about what she had heard one day after she came home from her classes at the community school. She had shrugged, a knowing grin on her face

“Well, she sure helped me out, old man. But yeah, my friends say their moms call her a lot worse names than witch. Personally, I think it’s fucking cool. D’you think she can fly around on a broom like in the movies?” Joel had not been particularly amused by that question.

He’s not sure what to make of any of it. Some people call her a saint. Others call her the devil incarnate. But there does seem to be a general consensus that any man that sets her in his sights is doomed to meet a timely demise.

It’s been two weeks since he saw her at the town market, and he hasn’t even caught a glimpse of her since. According to Maria, she’s been busy with a flare-up of some sort of stomach bug in the community, making house calls and – Joel supposes – working her magic.

He can’t figure out why he even cares. After all, he’s only met the woman once. But he can’t seem to shake her out of his thoughts, replaying their meeting over and over in his head, particularly the moment she had said Sarah’s name with such certainty.

He finds himself rolling all this over in his mind most nights, sitting out on his front porch as the summer sun turns to thick liquid over the mountains. It’s in such a position that he finally sees her again, approaching his house with a tired smile on her face.

“Hey there, stranger.” She walks up the first step to his porch, leaning against the wooden beam as she speaks. He can’t help the way his eyes trail over her, a pair of coveralls like the kind mechanics used to wear pulled distractingly taut around the swell of her hips and a cloth bag slung over her shoulder, the tops of jars and bottles peeking out of it. When his eyes finally slip back up to her face, the quirk of her eyebrows lets him know that she totally clocked him checking her out, and he has to clear his throat, swallowing his embarrassment before he responds.

“Um, hey– hi. I, uh, haven’t seen you around lately.” She tilts her head at him, smile simmering down to a crooked smirk.

“I’ve been a little busy with all the– y’know, vomiting and diarrhea around town. But I think folks are finally out of the woods now.” Joel has to wonder to himself how she can still manage to look pretty while talking about vomiting and diarrhea.

“How exactly do you help– with that?” Her smile broadens.

“For the stuff coming out the top end, peppermint oil mostly. Ginger is king, but I’ve only got so much of it cultivating at the shop. For the problem down below, you just gotta push fluids and tell them it’ll pass.”

“Can I ask– how do you know this stuff?”

“Most of what I know comes from my mom. She was a lady of the plants, knew just about everything about anything that grows.” Fondness laces through her words, a soft smile as she tells him this, and he finds himself mirroring her expression.

“Lady of the plants– that’s a new one to me.”

“Well, it’s better than witch, right?” Joel’s smile falls, but she just laughs.

“So I take it you’ve heard the rumors about me?” He’s not sure how to respond, a thickness settling in his throat and ice prickling the back of his neck. His voice comes out a bit hoarse when he does finally answer.

“Heard a lot of things about you. Not really sure what to believe though.” Her smile screws up at that, eyes crinkling as she looks at him.

“Why don’t you just ask me what you’re wondering then? Get it straight from the source.” She crosses her arms over her chest, the unbuttoned snaps of her coveralls splaying open to reveal the edge of a white tank-top, the suggestion of cleavage drawing Joel’s eyes before he can help it. He swallows hard, eyes darting back up to hers.

“Is it– I mean– are you?”

“Am I what?” She wants to hear him say it, he can tell by the ghosting curve of her lips. The word feels silly coming out of his mouth.

“Are you a– a witch?” Her smile goes practically radioactive at that, big and bright as she throws her head back in a laugh. She looks back at him, her lips pursed, eyes narrowed.

“Oh yeah, certified. Got the black cat to prove it and everything.” As if on cue, Stevie jumps up onto the railing of the porch, making Joel jump in his seat. She stifles a giggle behind her hand, Stevie nuzzling against her arm that’s wrapped around the porch beam. Joel huffs.

“Look, it seems like everyone’s got something to say about you. But I’m not the kind of guy to buy into a bunch of bullshit rumors.” She hums at that.

“Oh, no? What kind of guy are you then, Joel?”

“The kind that likes to work things out for himself.”

“Is that what this is? You working me out?”

“Sure am trying to.” She sucks her teeth, squinting at him.

“And?” Joel sighs.

“And– I’m thinking it’s gonna take me a while to reach any kind of conclusion.” She nods lightly at that, smiling at Stevie as scratches under the cat’s chin.

“Hmm, alright. You let me know when you reach your conclusion then.” A thick blink of silence falls between them, and Joel finds himself unable to tear his eyes away from hers, only breaking when she lets out a sigh.

“I didn’t just come over here to give you a hard time. Was actually hoping to cash in on that favor you owe me.” He sits up a little straighter at that, nodding.

“Alright, when did you wanna go out– I mean– not– go out– like– not like a–” She laughs, silencing his floundering.

“I know what you meant. And I was thinking the end of this week? Do you have time on Friday?”

“Uh-huh, yep. That’s my day off.” Her face falls.

“Oh, I don’t wanna take up your day off, I’m–”

“Don’t worry about that. I’m happy to help, really.” Her frown softens into a suggestion of a smile, and she nods.

“Well, alright. Thank you, Joel. You good to meet at the gates that morning?”

“I’ll be there, darlin. Sounds like a plan.” She grins.

“Until then, Joel.” She turns, hopping down from the porch step, before glancing over her shoulder to look at him.

“Oh, and don’t worry. I’m not gonna curse you. Not yet at least.” It’s so unexpected, he ends up choking on an inhale, but his coughing doesn’t drown out the sound of her laugh as she slinks away from his house. He’s so busy watching her saunter off that he doesn’t notice the cat jumping down from the railing, startling him when she starts twining between his legs. Stevie looks up at him, yellow eyes unblinking, as if she’s expecting something from him. He tentatively leans forward, holding out his open hand which the cat sniffs at before nudging her head into his palm, a low purr vibrating through her body.

“You gonna go tell her all my secrets, Stevie?” The cat looks up at him, head tilted. A little too human-like for Joel’s taste. She lets out a small mrrp, before going back to twining between his legs, sleek spine arching up into Joel’s hand. Then, just as quickly as she had appeared, she pads off down the steps of his porch and out into the night.

…

“Rumor has it you’re helping a certain lady out with some work up in the mountains tomorrow.” Joel huffs at his brother’s cocked eyebrow and crooked smirk. He takes a sharp swig of his drink before responding.

“Owe her a favor, that's all. And before you tell me I’m not gonna come back alive, I’ve already heard that from four other people this week.” That gets a laugh out of Tommy, his eyes glancing around the bar before focusing back on Joel.

“Nah, you’ll come back alive. It’s the days after when they always end up dead.”

“You serious?” Tommy shrugs.

“There’s been a couple of guys, sure. But if you ask me, that has more to do with the stories people believe than it does with her. What we believe, we create, brother. The mind is a powerful thing.” He punctuates his words with a tap of his fingers to his temple. Joel grumbles.

“Yeah, yeah, alright, wise ass. But you’re telling me there really have been men who’ve–”

“It’s all coincidence, Joel. Like I said, there have been a few guys who started chasing after her. Went up into the mountains with her, y’know, all romantic and shit. And then, well, it seems like every time, only a few days later, they wound up dead. But in every instance, it was a bad patrol shift that got them. S’just coincidence that it happened after they got with her.”

“How many coincidences?” Tommy sighs.

“Four. In the last four years or so.” Joel feels his brows lift at that.

“That’s a lot of fucking coincidences, Tommy.” Tommy shrugs.

“Look, folks always talk about how horrible it is that all these men died. And it is. But no one thinks to mention what that must have done to her. To like someone? Hell, maybe even love someone? And then not only have them taken away from you, but to then be blamed for it too? It’s fucking atrocious, man.” When Tommy finishes speaking, silence falls between them, Joel a bit stunned by the clear compassion Tommy speaks with about her.

“Why d’you even care? Why not join the crowd, huh?” Tommy frowns at that, twirling his liquor in his glass rather than looking at his brother.

“I didn’t tell you this– I mean, why would I? But, Maria had a pretty difficult pregnancy.” He takes a sharp inhale before continuing to speak.

“We weren’t sure if– if the baby– if we were gonna be ok. And she was there for us, through it all.” Joel can see the tears pooling in his brother’s eyes, glinting in the low light of the bar when he finally looks at him.

“I don’t know if we’d have our boy today if it hadn’t been for her. So yeah, I care about her. And I’ll side with her every time. And most folks will too, when push comes to shove. She’s done a lot for this community. But it’s easy to spread poison behind people’s backs. So that’s what they do.” Tommy sits back on his stool, sighing deeply.

“Suppose a lot of the men see her as a challenge, y’know? Steal a cursed kiss and live to tell the tale, or some bullshit like that. And the women see the men pining after her, and they don’t like that one bit. Either way, they talk, way more than they should.” Tommy throws back the last of his drink, wincing at the burn. Joel, meanwhile, is still trying to process everything his brother just told him.

“So should I tell the kid to start planning my funeral, or what?” Tommy laughs, shaking his head.

“Nah, I think you’re too much of a stubborn ass to let a rinky-dink curse sway you. Besides, I think you’re getting ahead of yourself.” Joel squints at his brother.

“Why’s that?”

“You said you’re just doing a favor for her. She might not even like you enough to curse you, brother.”

…

Joel doesn’t sleep at all that night. His mind works over what Tommy told him again and again, trying to reach some sort of conclusion about everything he’s learned, and coming up short every time. He shuffles out in the early morning light, eyes bleary as he nears the gate. She, however, is chipper as anything, smiling broadly when she sees him.

“Hey there, you ready to go?” He nods, grumbling out a quiet affirmation, and then they’re off.

Most of the morning is spent in silence, hiking up into the mountains. Joel knows that it’s not infected they have to worry about, not out here. But raiders are a whole other story, so he keeps a steady hand on his rifle slung over his shoulder, letting her lead them a few paces ahead of him.

“You’re quiet this morning.” She glances at him over her shoulder as she speaks, eyebrow lifted.

“I’m thinking.”

“About?” He huffs, stopping where he stands in the underbrush of the woods. When she realizes he’s no longer following, she turns back around, hands on her hips as she looks at him.

“I just– I wish you’d give me some straight answers here. I’ve heard something different about you from just about everyone in town– and I’m not sure if I believe any of it. Just– please.” Her brow is furrowed, eyes squinted at him as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth.

“What do you want from me, Joel?” He swallows hard, eyes glancing around the thick trees before looking back at her.

“The truth– I want the truth.” She sighs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific than that.” He has to laugh out of frustration at this little game they’re playing, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting out a low curse before focusing back on her.

“Alright, I’ll be specific. All those men that died. A lot of folks around town are convinced that you had something to do with it. S’that true?” When she speaks, Joel’s taken aback by her tone, her usual lightness replaced by a steeled stoicism.

“I had nothing to do with that. Any of it. The only curse that was on those men was their own goddamn minds buying into the town bullshit.” He’s inclined to believe her, judging by her unwavering gaze and the sure tilt of her chin as she speaks, but there’s still more that he needs to know.

“But you are– different. Aren’t you?” That coaxes a smile out of her, and she steps a bit closer to him.

“Different.” She says the word like a challenge, and he nods, taking his own steps closer to her.

“Is that your conclusion, Joel?” Both of them have their arms crossed over their chests, and they now stand so close that their forearms lightly brush.

“Starting to think I ain’t ever gonna reach a conclusion about you, darlin.” Her eyes crinkle, smile threatening to crook into a full-blown grin.

“Would that be such a bad thing? No conclusion?” It’s like magnets, the way their faces tilt, subtle shifts toward one another until he can feel the light air of her exhale across his mouth. He hums, a low sound in his chest.

“I think I’ll live.” He can practically feel the stretch of her grin at his words.

“I think you will too.” It happens as easily as a tide rolling in, languid in the way their lips slip together. His hands find the sweep of her jaw, pulling her in deeper, her palms splaying over his chest. He’s a little surprised when she swipes her tongue over the curve of his bottom lip, coaxing him open and tangling even closer with him. A woman has never taken charge like this with him, and it’s making his head spin. When she does pull away, he’s only a little embarrassed by the way he chases after her lips, stuttering into some sort of composure when she grins at him.

“For the record, you’re not wrong.” Not entirely sure what she means, he frowns at her, shaking his head. She laughs.

“I am different, Joel.”

“That wasn’t just a lucky guess, was it? About– about Sarah?” Her eyes soften, features dropping into a sad understanding. She slides her palms up from his chest to twine behind his neck.

“No, it wasn’t.”

…

“This is lemon balm.” She glances over her shoulder at him from where she’s crouched down, thumbing at a cropping of large, waxy leaves. He’s learned the names of more plants today than he could ever remember, though he still nods when she shows him a new one like he has any clue what it is.

“What do you use that for?”

“You dry it, and then you can brew tea with it. It’s calming– helps with sleep and stress. Or you can mix it into salve to treat cold sores. Though not many people in Jackson come to me with that problem.” She clips several leaves from the plant, carefully tucking them into her pack and slinging it over her shoulder as she stands back up.

They’ve been out all day, moving through the woods as she collects various plant snippings, explaining each one to him, how to use it and what its use is. And between them, a silent understanding has settled, even though Joel hasn’t asked anymore questions about her. But he knows that Tommy was right. Whatever she is, she’s a good one.

“We oughta head back soon. Sun’s starting to set.” She nods, wiping her hands off on the front of her jeans, and they easily step into stride with one another. They spend most of the hike back in a comfortable silence. Joel finds himself wanting to say something, ask something more, but always hesitating, mind hazy from the heat of the day, and from the stamped memory of the kiss they shared. Even if it was cursed, he reckons that he wouldn’t mind that.

“Joel? I want to say thank you.” He glances at her walking alongside him, the quick-fading light casting syrupy shadows across her features. He has to blink a few times to keep himself from staring.

“No need for thanks. I was happy to repay the favor.”

“No, that’s– that’s not what I meant. I mean– thank you for coming out today with me, I appreciate it. But– I wanted to thank you for– thinking for yourself– about me.” That makes him stop in his stride, turning to fully look at her as she does the same. They’ve just crested a hill, the gates of Jackson coming into view, and her eyes keep glancing back toward it, a nervous crease between her brows.

“It’s just– you’re right– I know everyone has something to say about me. And I guess I don’t have too many friends because of it. Most folks make up their minds about me before they even talk to me. So, thank you– for not doing that.” His chest twists at her words, the worried look scrunched across her face. He’d like to take the pain away that’s clear in her expression. And then, that tightness in his chest grows for a different reason, as he realizes that he’s already in far too deep with her. He has to clear his throat to shake away the thickening feeling, tentatively reaching his hand out to her, his fingers skating over the faint dip of her collarbone. He can see her breath catch at his touch, and he revels in it, letting his hand trail down her arm until their fingers are tangling together.

“You shouldn’t have to thank me for that. Whatever may or may not be true about you– no one deserves that. I just– why do you help them– when they treat you the way they do?” She sighs, squeezing his hand in hers, and giving a weak shrug of her shoulders.

“Because it’s what I’m good at. I always wanted to help people– and that’s what I get to do. Even if some of them are fucking dicks about it.” Her crassness catches him off guard, pulling a stuttering laugh from his chest as she grins. But she’s all seriousness again, clearing her throat, her brow pulling down.

“Suppose I should warn you now that they’ll talk about you too– if you stick around me. And I don’t blame you if you don’t want–” He’s heard enough, and does something entirely too bold by closing the distance between them to steal another kiss, her wide eyes meeting his when he pulls away.

“Don’t care what any of ‘em have to say about me, or about you. They can talk all they want, darlin.” He can feel the relief in her sigh. She nods, giving his hand one final squeeze before breaking away, continuing the walk back to town.

When they get back inside the gates, she offers him a small smile, her hands fidgeting with the straps of her pack.

“Thank you again. I really appreciated your help.”

“Like I said, it was no–”

“Well, well, well– what do we have here? Looks like she’s got Miller under her spell, boys!” The change in her demeanor is instant, face scrunching up as they both turn to see where the commentary is coming from. Joel recognizes the man, Mason, if he remembers right, and a small group of other guys he knows from past patrol meetings. They’ve all got a similar sneer across their faces, eyes zeroed in on her, and he has to fight the urge to step in front of her to get them to stop looking at her like that.

“Guess we better get another coffin ready, huh? Hate to break it to you, Miller. She may be pretty, but she ain’t nothing but bad news.” Joel’s fists clench at his sides, and as the men break into another howl of laughter, his feet start moving toward them before his brain can catch up. But she’s quick to step in front of him, hands pressing into his chest and eyes fierce.

“Don’t– it’s not worth it.” It’s immediate, the calm that washes over him with her words, though he still glares over her shoulder at the men, whose laughter has only escalated.

“Awww, she got you good, man! Hey, witchy-poo! What kinda magic you got working on Miller to have him so whipped?” And with that, Joel is ready to bash their heads in all over again, though she holds him back with her palms firm against the front of his shirt.

“Joel, it’s fine. They’re harmless, really.” He glances at the men one more time before finally focusing back on her, huffing as he nods. She gives him what she can of a smile, worry still pressed between her brows.

“I’ll see you soon, ok?” His hands flex at his sides, wanting more than anything to tuck her under his arm and walk off together, but he settles for another nod, and a whispered acquiescence. She’s gone in a blink, walking off to the hollering of the men behind her. Before he can do something stupid, Joel heads off in the opposite direction toward the Tipsy Bison. He needs a fucking drink.

…

Joel is nursing his second tumbler of whiskey when just about the last person he’d like to see sidles up next to him at the bar.

“Miller.” Mason sits down on the stool next to him, but Joel keeps his eyes on his swirling glass.

“Look, man, I’m sorry for giving you a hard time out there. But I’m trying to help you out.” Joel rests his elbows on the bar, glancing briefly at Mason.

“Don’t remember asking for your help, man.” Mason laughs, turning on his stool to fully face Joel, a stupid grin across his face.

“Well then you don’t know her as well as we all do. I meant what I said, y’know. She’s bad news.” Joel’s starting to feel that anger creeping up his throat, angling himself just slightly in Mason’s direction to get a good look at him.

“Son, I’ve heard enough stories this week to have a pretty good idea of just how full of shit you all are. I thought this was a community of decent people, really. But after being told one too many times about some ridiculous curse, I realize you’re nothing but fools and cowards.” Mason laughs again, and Joel’s a blink away from slapping the sound right out of his mouth.

“I’m not talking about that bullshit curse.” Joel squints at him.

“Come again?”

“That curse you’re referring to? I agree with you that it’s town nonsense. But that’s not what I’m talking about.” When Joel stays silent, Mason’s mouth stretches into a smile.

“She may not be sending men to their graves, but she ain’t so innocent either. See, she likes to meddle.”

“Meddle?” Mason nods.

“In other people’s business. Sure, she helps folks all the time. But that’s not all she’s doing in that shop of hers.” Joel huffs, getting tired of the way this man seems to be stringing him along.

“Talk plainly, son. It’s getting late.” Mason barks out a laugh, sliding off his stool before laying a hand on Joel’s shoulder, a squinted smile on his face.

“Why don’t you go see what she’s got cooking up in that kitchen of hers in the middle of the night. Because I can tell you right now, it ain’t fucking tea.”

#joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller au #joel miller series #the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou

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twinklelilstarkey · 4 months

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Tutor: Dress Picking

Words: 2.4k Type: Angst? Warnings: This is literally a chapter just to announce that I'm back, so, yeah, settle in folks :) because shit is about to hit the fan, but not yet.

Tutor Masterlist

I do NOT give you permission to repost my work. If you’d like to read my stories on other platforms, you can find them on my Wattpad and AO3.

Hours later, when stepping into school, you are more than in a good mood. You must admit, you almost got to school late due to oversleeping with Rafe after having conversations that led until 5AM. Your headache has gone away with a simple aspirin, and most of your worrisome thoughts are in the back of your mind, safely tucked away.

You also were able to leave the house with Rafe without his family noticing, and the same thing goes for your parents. You made it home safely, put on new clothes as you had already showered at Rafe’s house, and he dropped you off at school. Your parents would never know of such a thing as they weren’t home when you got there, and you, supposedly, were with a friend of yours the whole night – one they know very well, but have no idea you don’t even speak to anymore.

Almost late or not, every minute of this morning was better than any other. You wish you were still in bed and that today was a Saturday, not a Wednesday. A day where you could just lie in bed with Rafe, talk about life, and get affection. Gosh, you would sell a kidney for that. Your poor kidneys.

You still got a few minutes in the car with him, even though different, it was still minutes that you had for yourselves. A lot of kisses and reassuring words were exchanged. As well as promises that everything will go well and nothing bad will happen. And if it does, he’ll be parked outside as soon as you call, ready to get you home.

Because of this, when the bell rings to tell you to get to class, your mind is still cloudy and warm.

You sit on your chair and stare at the empty page of a notebook while remembering the dumb ways Rafe made you laugh this morning, from the time in bed to the shower. The way his kisses were always soft and warm, and his arms would always hug you tightly and close enough for all your worries to fly away. Ugh, that kidney is about to go.

The classroom's door closes as the teacher walks inside, and the class begins. You lift your eyes off your notebook and notice a bit of movement beside you. You don’t have to look to know. Kristy wasn’t missing school again. She’s in class. In her usual seat, beside you. Her eyes are currently drilling a hole into the side of your head with all that staring, kind of hard to ignore.

Overall, the class itself is very uneventful since school is about to end, and there isn’t much the teacher can do to make everyone still find it in their will to study or work further. Due to this, the hour is slow, and there aren’t many notes that you can take from what is taught and discussed between the teacher and the other students.

In the corner of your eye, you see a small piece of paper being slid over to your side of the table, but you look away as soon as you can. You’re sure that Kristy is better than sliding small pieces of paper asking for an apology or time to talk, but maybe after the stunt that she was able to pull on you in that car... You probably need to draw new conclusions about this girl.

Throughout this one class, you continuously saw how Kristy tried to get your attention by sliding the piece of paper closer and closer or even trying to write a completely new one. You ignored all of her attempts. But also hesitated to check your vibrating phone as the possibility of it being her was just as large as the piece of paper she last tried to slide into your field of view.

The bell rang, and the teacher screamed the small assignment over the loud chatter that quickly erupted. You took a quick note of it in case you forgot it and got up to put your things away. Five different pieces of paper are just by your notebook now, and you almost want to scoff at the stupidity. Curiosity is also biting at your skin for wanting to know what is written in all of them, but you are better than that. Kristy sits there as you put your things away, almost as if waiting for you to address her or pick up her papers.

You slide your bag over your shoulder and take a step to the side to begin walking to the door. You ignore the hand that stretches in your direction to get a hold of your arm (but fails) and walk out of the room. Once outside, your phone begins to vibrate in your pocket, and you pull it out, knowing for a fact that Kristy isn't that ridiculous. The caller: Mom.

“Hello?” You say as soon as you accept the call and put your phone by your ear.

“Guess who just got invited to a party?” Your mom asks excitingly.

“You?”

“All of us!” She corrects excitingly. “Rose Cameron just called, saying that there will be a small get-together with the few families close to the Camerons at the country club. We’re all invited to celebrate your and many others' graduation. Isn't this amazing?”

You open your locker while an expression of surprise is more than obvious on your face. She continues to talk to you all about the details of the party, like how many people, what to wear and what will be there for decoration. You move your books around in the locker to switch classes, and not once do you need to speak because your mother speaks for the both of you.

The call drags out until the next bell calls you into class, yet not a new word has been said by you during the whole thing. You smile at your mom’s rare excitement for a party because, sincerely, it's hard to forget how any event organized by Rose has left your socialite of a mom more than pleased with the range of guests, food, or conversations. You’re in for a hell of a night.

“When is it, exactly?” You ask right as you get near the classroom.

“At the end of this week. Rose said something about it being a great way to celebrate the end of classes for all the graduating students invited.” She explains, leaving you to nod to yourself, “When are you free to go dress shopping?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Well, we won’t need more than an hour,” a lie, “to find a good dress for you, so as soon as you know a day we can go, call me back.”

“Will do.”

“Now, go to class. Your bell must have rung almost 5 minutes ago.”

You chuckle at her exactness and say your goodbyes before ending the call. Inside the classroom, you find everyone already seated, but the teacher is still absent. You walk towards the back of the class and ignore the same pair of eyes as before - since it seems the person has failed to gain something more interesting to look at lately.

You take your usual seat and think back on the conversation with your mother. The party doesn’t seem bad, but you can only wish for good company during it. Usually, your company in parties such as this is not exactly talking with you, much to their disappointment. And standing by your parents the entire evening doesn’t seem exactly exciting, as the conversations will be quite… uninteresting for your ears, surely.

While you occupy your free time on your phone, ignoring the constant whispering and glaring from all directions of the room, the teacher continues to take his sweet time to appear. Long enough for the guy in front of you to turn around and hand you yet another piece of paper. At this point, trees cry with all the attempts at communication Kristy happens to do.

Maybe it was how annoyed you felt. Maybe it was the fact that all their attention left you as soon as the teacher decided to walk in with a mug of hot coffee in hand. But you opened this last piece of paper. Truthfully, you did it so quick the unfolding and folding back up wasn't noticed by a single soul, and you read it.

Are you going to Cameron’s party? – Kristy

(…)

“Definitely not my color, mom.” You say for the thousandth time while looking at yourself in the mirror of the boutique.

“Are you sure? I like it on you.” She says while tilting her head to take another good look at you.

“I like the style, just not the color.” You admit to her, in a calm tone, nothing to start fights over - as you usually tend to do when picking a dress for a party your mom is so excited about. “The red looks better on me.”

Your mom gives you her usual look, ‘Well, but I hate red’, which only lets you know that this discussion about a dress will lead you to another hour of dress shopping. Nothing ever made you feel as grateful for yourself for clearing your schedule the way you did for this entire evening. As always, your mom is against any color that isn’t light and sweet or any cleavage that isn’t conservative enough. While you happen to like a lot of different styles of dresses and have dealt with your mother’s antics for years, your tastes still tend to clash.

“Red is too much, I think,” she comments, turning to look at the large number of dresses she has asked the worker to get for her. “What about blue?”

“Depends on the shade.” You try to ignore the look she sends you over her shoulder but fail miserably while looking down at the ground to chuckle.

“This one is too dark, I think.” She says while holding a silk dark blue dress with thin straps, “What about this one?”

“It almost looks white, mom. I’m not getting married.”

“Okay, Miss Picky. You pick one, then.”

It went on for hours, but soon you two came to an agreement after much begging on your part and almost on the store’s worker's part as well. You settled on a blue, not too light or too dark, dress with straps (your mother insisted). It has a straight neckline, but due to it being silk, it sits well on your chest. It tightens at your waist (again, due to your mother’s request: not too much), and its length rests gracefully at your feet – leaving you enough room to walk, but not much.

The moment you dramatically took in the fresh air outside, your mom wasn’t shy to pinch the back of your arm for the drama you decided to drag throughout the day. This also helped keep her distracted as your phone continuously received texts from a certain group of people who still are desperate to know if you were going to the party. They made it impossible for you to show her anything on your phone, like dress ideas, without her seeing the messages constantly being sent.

You take your seat on your mom’s car seat and set the bag with the dress inside by your legs, beginning to block the entirety of the group of girls on your phone. They have been asking you for, you assume, the same thing that Kristy had written in those papers yesterday in class: another conversation among all of you.

In all the messages you’ve received from them, you’ve read the ridiculous words of ‘unfair’ and ‘selfish’ all directed at you for either not answering the messages or not speaking to them in school, though all they did was stare at you once they saw you. You’re not sure you heard a single word come out of their mouths the day before or this morning. They all stayed silent while their eyes scanned your every move. It was obsessive, and they were driving you insane for it.

You’re just thankful that you were able to spend the evening with your mom, away from their gazes, as well as for the recent silence coming from your phone now that all contacts are blocked. Now you can finally relax and stop thinking about them and your conversation. But maybe you spoke too soon.

“Is everything alright between you and the girls?” Your mom suddenly asks while driving you both home. Her tone is calm and sweet, with nothing hidden behind it.

“Why do you ask?” You try to sound as calm as possible.

“I just feel like they haven’t been hanging out in our house that much lately. You’re always the one going out to see them,” She explains, not knowing that all the times you’ve gone out to see ‘them’ lately have been to see Rafe or Patty instead. “I sort of miss having the house full of girls.”

You two sit in silence while you simply look out of the window into the night, trying not to make any faces or sounds that could lead you into a lie that will snowball into the avalanche that is your current situation.

“We’ve just been busy, you know? With finals and all.”

“Will they be at the party?” She asks, still unphased by anything you’ve said.

“Yeah,” You assume, yet still make sure your tone makes you sound sure of your words.

“Well, good. I’ve missed talking to them. Maybe we can plan something.”

You almost zone out as soon as she begins to talk about the possibilities of having something cute like an afternoon tea party, or anything along those lines. How will you even be able to tell her the truth? You'll break her heart.

“Yeah…” You look out of your window again, “We could do that.”

As you continuously look away, your mother takes a look at you when stopped at a red light, with her smile still bright and sweet, ready to get one in return. But your eyes and mind are elsewhere - far away from the conversation you’ve just had. She noticed how your tone had just dipped from dramatic and happy to something so different it was hard to pick apart with such a short answer.

Your mother opens her mouth to say something, maybe even question your sudden change of mood directly, but the light turning green was enough to take her attention away. Some other time, she’ll be able to make you talk to her, confide in her about what could’ve happened to make you so moody. She’ll be there to hear it no matter what, right?

Am I back 100%? I have no idea. Did I write this while having no plans to do it? Also yes. I hope it was good!

Hope you enjoyed it!! AND HAPPY NEW YEAR!

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe smut #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fluff #drew starkey #outer banks #outer banks season 2 #outer banks season 3 #obx

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junhui-png · 3 months

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puppy love ⌦ .｡.:*♡

mingyu x reader x scoups? (Still figuring it out LOL)

pt. 2

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summary: first year of college, you literally knew no one and you planned for it to stay that way but damn were you wrong

notes: part 2!!! I hope y’all like this, I read back on pt 1 and realized I made some grammar errors and it was lowkey just ass in general…So I hope part 2 is a lot more enjoyable as I put a little more thought into it ! 💕

genre: seventeen college au, love triangle between scoups and Mingyu, Mingyu being on a football team, financial major scoups, angst??, fluff, cute friend ships, Hoshi, Joshua, Seungkwan, Minghao, and Wonwoo r your besties, Also besties with Yunjin (Le Sserafim) and Minnie (G-IDLE), other seventeen members are mentioned?? Childhood friends, cursing, drinking

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"its been awhile" the man chuckles. Choi Seungcheol. You're first every friend. You had met him on the first day of 2nd grade and had stayed friends till middle school until he moved away. You tried looking up his name on insta but nothing every came up, So you just gave up in finding him. "This is crazy" you let out an airy laugh "its been like what, 10 years?" Seungcheol asks, taking a seat next to you "Yea maybe" you felt awkward but so relieved at the same time, it really was nice seeing him after so long "sooo how do you to know each other again? Soonyoung ask "Childhood friends" Seungcheol responds, taking a bite from one of appetizers that were brought up "Wahh~ what a coincidence" Seungkwan says in awe and you both nod "Are you folks ready to order?" the waitress comes around "Yeah I think so?" Wonwoo tells the waiter.

Everyone's food had arrived and we were all eating peacfully, talking about school drama and whatever. But you were defiantly talking to Seungcheol the most, I mean how couldn't you? You had just met your childhood best friend after 10 years. Your phone lights up on your lap and you see a text message from Joshua "Don't you think Mingyu's been awfully quiet" read the text from Joshua. You shot your head up from your phone to look up at Mingyu, who was across from you. He was in fact a lot quieter than he normally is and he even looked a little pissed? You look over at Joshua and he simply gives you a shrug "He looks mad, right?" you whisper to Joshua "He does..." Joshua whispers back. "Can i get these plates out of your way?" the waiter asks and Soonyoung and Wonwoo help collect the plates to hand them over to the waiter "I'll be back with the bill" the waiter smiles before vanishing into the swarm of people.

"That was good, right nini?" Seungcheol pats his stomach a bit and you giggle. Nini was a random nickname Seungcheol had given you when you were both about 7. The whole backstory behind it was that, Seungcheol could never get your name right, but he did remember you by one of you favorite snacks, called "NINI" and eventually, even after he learned and memorized your name, he still preferred calling you nini “Nicknames? Really?” Mingyu scoffs, stuffing in hands into the pockets of this jeans “What’s up with him today?” Seungcheol asks but no one has the answer “maybe he didn’t like his food” Soonyoung suggests. You all stop once you’ve reached the parking lot of the restaurant “We’ll go first, see you guys tomorrow” Soonyoung and Seungkwan both bid there goodbyes, then shortly after Wonwoo and Joshua also left for there dorms, leaving you, Seungcheol, and Mingyu by yourselves. “Do you have a ride nini?” Seungcheol asks you and you shake your head “There’s probably no Ubers around at this time, it’s like a 10 minute walk anyways” you state “I can-“ before Seungcheol can finish his sentence he’s interrupted by Mingyu “I can walk her back to her dorm, you can go home it’s late anyways” Mingyu finishes Seungcheol’s sentence. “Alright if you say so, I’ll text you later y/n” The man scoffs before turning his attention to you “get home safely” he waves goodbye and both you and Mingyu begin to walk towards your dorm.

“I didn’t know you were so close to coups” Mingyu says, so quietly you can barley hear him “I mean I guess we’re good friends” you shrug “ just good friends?” Mingyu says, he’s tone filled with sarcasm. “Yes, just good friends” you say, returning the sarcastic tone. There’s awkward silence but the silence doesn’t last very long “ let’s play 20 questions” Mingyu says suddenly, breaking the silence “So suddenly?” You chuckle but he ignores you “I’ll go first. Favorite artist right now?” He asks “Wave to Earth” “ok ok, now you go” “uhm I don’t know.. favoritee~ video game?” “Call of duty” “cool cool” “Why does coups call you nini?”. You were taken aback just a bit by his question, you thought it was just some stupid Q&A game Mingyu wanted to play to pass the time “he also had trouble memorizing my name, so he started calling me “Nini” because I was always eating those Nini snacks at school” you still answer his question. Mingyu nods but doesn’t seem very satisfied by your question “how long have you been playing football?” “5 years” “dam ok” “What do you like about coups?. Once again, Mingyu brings up Seungcheol and you just didn’t understand why, I mean you didn’t really mind but it was just werid. “Uhm he’s nice??? And he really thoughtful and pays attention when I talk and is just really sweet” you answer Mingyu’s werid question anyways and yet he still looks unsatisfied “Favorite class your taking?” “Photography.” “I didn’t expect that from you” you mumble and Mingyu nods “ a lot of people say that”. “Do you not think I’m nice?” Mingyu suddenly stops in his track and turns to you “what??” You turn and stop to face him “I mean you said you liked coups because he’s nice right?? So am I not nice??” You couldn’t tell if this kid was pulling at your leg or was being dead serious “I mean I barley know you” you stutter out “I mean you said you hadn’t seen him in 10 years! How do you know he hasn’t changed?” Mingyu lowers his head slightly, watching his feet as he kicks a few tiny pebbles lying on the floor “Mingyu. You realized YOU are the one that invited him, I think you would know if he wasn’t a good person” you continue walking up the side walk and Mingyu follows you “so what do you think of me?” Mingyu asks “not your turn, it’s my turn to ask questions” you correct him “why are you asking so many questions about Seungcheol?” You ask “I’m just curious” he shrugs “about what?” You try and ask but Mingyu stops you “Not your turn” he smirks and you just scoff at him. At this point you were both in front of your dorm building complex “Do you think I’m hot?” Oh my god this kid and his fucking questions were gonna be the end of you “I mean.. yeah” you simply state, slowly going up the stairs with Mingyu trailing behind you “Your skincare routine?” “Don’t got one” he shrugs. You give him a dirty look because you know dam well there ain’t not way his skin that clear without at least a cleanser. You know we’re standing in front of your door “go out with me.” Your mind went completely blank “what.” “You heard me”. You did in fact hear him but the words definitely were not processing “you said it yourself, you said I’m nice and hot so why don’t we go on a date?” You were trying your best to avoid eye contact but that man was making it basically impossible, staring right at you without even blinking “well I mean I don’t know” you try and push him away, realizing he was basically pining you up against the wall because of how close you two were “text me then.” He said, backing up just the slightest so you would breathe “ok. I’m going now. Goodnight get back safely” you quickly enter your apartment before even letting the poor boy respond “what the actual fuck..” you mumbled to yourself. “DING” you phone screen lights up and you see a text message from the one and only Mingyu “postist art museum, 3:30 tomorrow” reads the text he sent you with a wink emoji “this kid” you sigh. Though you though he was ridiculous you caught yourself smiling at his text message.

The blaring sound of you alarm pierced through the morning silence of your dorm. You let at a groan as you shifted around in your bed before grabbing your phone "2:01" read the time on your phone "SHIT" you immediately rise from your bed and rush towards the bathroom where you brush your teeth and wash your face. Even though your "Date" with Mingyu was at 3:30, you normally took 2 hours to get ready. As you rummaged through your closet, trying to settle on an outfit to wear, Minnie strolls in "You got a date?" Minnie smirks "Actually, yes I do" you dont bother to look up at Minnie but you have already pictured her shocked face "Damn really? Who?" Minnie leans on the door frame, getting comfortable as you begin to speak "Remember that guy that dropped me off when I was drunk?" You stop looking through your closet and take a seat on your bed "The super hot one?" Minnie asks and you nod "Well, last night he asked me out on a date and I dont even know what I was thinking but I said yes" You sigh, getting back up to continue looking for an outfit "When'd ya'll meet" Minnie asks "Soonyoung's party, so like almost a week ago?" You shrug "You just met this guy and your about to spend a whole day with him?" Minnie questions. I mean she was right, you'd only known this man for less than a week "He wouldn't hurt a fly, I think" You pull out a pair of washed jeans and throw them on the bed "Great! just dont let him kidnap you" Minnie says, sarcastically "Thanks for being such a protective roommate" You give her a fake smile before turning back to look for a top "When are you leaving?" Minnie asks picking up her phone "I wanna get out at 3:00 so id better hurry" you pull out a white square neckline top with a cute lace bow on the neckline "you got like 45 minutes you better hurry" Minnie taps at your door frame, signaling shes going back to her room "have funn!" she calls out "thanks!" You reply, wasting no time to quickly change, put your shoes on and run out of the house.

You do your makeup on the way there and you reach the art museum at exactly 3:30. As you walk off the bus, you almost immediately spotted Mingyu. He was sitting down on the staircase leading up to the museum with a small pink bouquet in his hands. He was wearing a button down loosely with a pair of grey washed jeans and a black leather jacket. You couldn't deny that man was fine, and looked even finer today, especially in that outfit. "Mingyu!" Mingyu shots his head up and looks around before finally locking eyes on your figure. He starts to stand up as you approach him "You look beautiful" He smiles, handing you the pink bouquet "Thank you, you looks nice as well" you take the flowers, examining them carefully "Just nice?" Mingyu cocks his eyebrow up and you scoff at his sarcasms "What did you want me to say?" you and Mingyu start to walk up the stairs, leading to the art museum "I dont know maybe, breath-taking? Ravishing? Stunning? Out of this world?" Mingyu shrugs, you roll your eyes in response "Thats too much" You chuckle.

You and Mingyu begin to walk around the art museum, admiring the art hanged along the walls. "You know, a lot of girls at campus would be jealous of you right now, Going on a date with Mr. Campus crush" Mingyu teases, his lips forming into a cheeky smirk "Dont let you ego get the best of you, Kim Mingyu" You teased back. As the two of you strolled through the museum, admiring the beautiful pieces of art on the wall, Mingyu unexpectedly shifted from his usual playful banter to a more serious note. With a curious glint in his eyes, he turned around to face you and asks "So, what exactly are you looking for in a guy?" The question catches you off guard in the mist of you admiring one of the paintings on the wall, and after a brief pause you begin to state some "Someone who's genuine, I guess? Who's nice, good sense of humor, respects himself and others, and can cook" Mingyu, with a sly smirk, retorted "So basically me?" His comment sent you into laughter, though you weren't necessarily laughing because you thought what he had said was funny, but to try and hide you face that had probably turned as bright as a tomato and heart that was going at 200 BPM. "Well," you replied, finally calming your heart beat down by the slightest bit "Maybe minus the cockiness" You chuckle.

As you and Mingyu continue to walk around, making small comments about some to the paintings on display, you had noticed that Mingyu's banter had changed once again to quite a tense one, almost like he was dying to ask you somthing "You and Coups. You two seem basically inseparable" He asks, his casual tone barely concealing an undercurrent of tension. Suprised by the sudden focus of you childhood friend once again, you nodded "Yeah, Seungcheol. We're close. Why?" Mingyu's gaze lingered on a painting, his questions become more pointed. "What makes him you like him so much? I mean, did you guys share secrets and stuff when you were little or was it just the usual camaraderie?" Mingyu's eyes glancing towards you but stay glued on the painting in front of the two of you "We had a crazy strong bond when we were little, shared a lot of memories. Why are you suddenly curious about him anyways? You were like this yesterday." Mingyu was the one who invited him, he probably knew Seungcheol better than you and longer than you, so you were confused at the mans sudden interrogation. Mingyu's respone was a vague shrug, which left you in an even more confused state "Wanna get out of here?" Mingyu slightly signals towards the door and you nod "Sure, I'm hungry anyways" You both start to walk towards the exit, Mingyu looking through his phone looking for a place to grab dinner at.

You guys walk down the street to a nearby Italian restaurant that Mingyu said he's been wanting to try "I'll trust you judgment" You laugh, walking into the restaurant. You two are seated and begin to pick up you conversation. As Mingyu took a sip from the glass of water left on the table for the two of you, he turns to you with a sudden hopeful gleam in his eyes, almost like a puppy. "You know, you should come to my football games. Its a blast, and I think I'd really love to have you there cheering for me." You chuckle, "Im not really a sports person. The only thing I'd cheer for is not spilling my popcorn all over the bleachers." He grinned, undeterred, "Come on, Its not about the game. Its about the experience. You might enjoy it, I mean who wouldnt if I'm playing in it" You raised an eyebrow "First of all, not everyone goes to watch you" "And second are you trying to recruit me for the team or something?" Mingyu grinned "Well, maybe. But mostly, I just think you'd enjoy it, Plus, you'd get to witness my incredible skill firsthand." Before you could come up with a comeback, the waitress arrived to take our orders, in which we gave and the waitress simply nodded before taking the menus from in front of us.

"Like i was saying" Mingyu begins but realizes your not fully paying attention, but the person to your left. You Ex. There he was sitting right across from you on his friend "Do you know him" Mingyu speaks up, knocking you out of your trances "Yeah, sorry what were you saying?" You tried to get back on track "Who is that?" Mingyu asks "My Ex." "Oh. sorry." "Its fine, it sure is a small world" You chuckle, trying to lighten the mood "We can go somewhere else if you want" Mingyu suggests but you turn the offer down "its fine, we already ordered, and he hasn't even noticed me anyways" Well he didnt notice you 10 seconds ago but he defiantly has now. "Y/N" The family voice sends chills down you spine. Mingyu watches you, waiting for your response but you dont move. Your ex-boyfriend, Jaemin, seized the opportunity while there was silence to approach your table. "Hey" he greeted, a unreadable look in his eyes "Its been a while. I've missed you" Before you could come up with a response, Mingyu, sensing the discomfort, stepped in "We're having a private dinner here. I think its best you leave us be," he states, a subtle intensity in his tone.

Jaemin, now growing upset "I just wanted to talk, catch up. Is that too much to ask?" You look up at him in disgust. How can you try and "catch up" after what he had done to you. he cheated. gaslight you. and now he wants to "talk?". Mingyu catches the look you gave him and returns to Jaemin, his gaze hardening. "Look, she's moved on. Maybe you should to instead of being a dick. Respect her boundaries" Mingyu spits and you can see Jaemin getting progressively angrier. The tension escalated quickly, creating an uncomfortable silence. You apperciated Mingyu stepping in, but it might have made the conflict worst. "Jaemin. Just go." You try and say sternly but you end up sounding like a 6 year old "Why? I know you miss me" you scoff "Me? Miss you? Never. Nobody wants you here so leave." You say sternly, keeping eye contact with him "Whatever, you're gonna come back crawling in a month anyways" Jaemin rushes out of the restaurant leaving you and Mingyu together once again "Sorry.." you mumble "Dont be. He's the one who should apologize for causing such a scene" Mingyu tsks, leaning back in his seat.

The waiter brings you your food, which you both enjoy while talking about all sorts of thinks, and at the end of the day you ended up agreeing to going to Mingyu's next football game "I'll save you the best seats, where you'll get to see the best view of me" Mingyu smirks "Thanks, want me to bring anything?" you walk up the stair of your dorm "Like?" Mingyu asks and you shrug "flowers? somthing to celebrate your win?" You suggest and Mingyu lets out a little laugh "What?" You turn to face him now that you've reached your door "You're so sure I'm gonna win, huh?" Mingyu teases and your face gets a little hot "What? are you not gonna win for me" You tease back "Oh trust me I'll make sure I win" You'd never truly noticed how amazing Mingyu was. Spending the whole day with him really changed how you saw him, he was caring, protective, defiantly a flirt, but you knew that even before you got to know each other, and funny. "Thanks for today, really" Mingyu smiles warmly "Me too, How about we plan something again sooner?" he asks "I'd like that" You smile up at him. "Get some sleep, i'll see you tomorrow" Mingyu backs away from the door and begins going down the stairs "Goodnight" you call out "goodnight, my love". You're left standing there, feeling all warm and fluffy on the inside because of this new nickname. You quietly enter your dorm, removing your shoes and going to get read for bed. Once you had changed into you pajama's you flopped onto the bed and opened your phone to see your lockscreen full of notifications from one person "Na Jaemin." The warmth Mingyu had left you with suddenly disappeared as you read the texts he had left you "Baby, I'm sorry I got mad." "How are you feeling? Do you want me to drop off some food for you?" "Who was that guy you were with?" "Baby??" "Honey?" "answer me" The text trail went on and on "I still have your stuff, you should come by and get it" "I miss you baby please dont be stubborn with me" This man had the audacity to text you such things and try and call you. You take a deep breath, now frustrated by the whole situation "I'll just deal with this tomorrow" You mumble, pushing away your problems like you normally do. You take one more deep sigh before turning off your lights and going to sleep. You thought you ex was just acting up. Kind of just stuck in his feels or whatever, but you had no idea the lengths this man would do to get you back.

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

previous / next

next chapter coming out 2/3/24 or 2/4/24 😸😸

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m1ssunderstanding · 4 months

Text

Get Back Rewatch 55 Years On: Day Six

Paul and Linda: walk in. Me: Panics in bisexual

He’s so weird. He’s been carrying her purse, gives it back, then tries to change his mind again and the look she gives him. ‘You’re very cute, but I can carry my shit.’

But the “Linda’s a cameraman.” Rare Paul feminism moment. Slow clap.

And then instantly, “I’d better go and put in some piano practice.” You fucking addict. Linda, what are you getting yourself into, girly?

“Actually, we’re going on a farm in Scotland.” “I’d love to find a . . . a farm.” I wonder at what point he showed it to her. So far, they’ve done the dirty weekend in LA, Christmas in Liverpool and Portugal, a stay in New York, and now London. Have they done the Mull of Kintyre at this point? Oh, boy. Today might be the Paul and Linda show for me, folks :/

Why does she look like a loving mom watching her daughter’s dance audition?

Paul taking Mal’s advice on “Standing” VS “Waiting”

“I feel the most relaxed around Ring.” Linda/Paul/Ringo threesome fic when?

Ringo again with the EXCELLENT taste in jackets. That blue is So pretty. With the black velvet collar. Immaculate.

“There’s enough obstacles without putting them in the song” is the most Paul quote ever. It’s like his artistic mission statement. The surface read of Paul’s songs is that they’re just these weightless, meaningless, pretty nothings. But the real read (part of) is that they’re meant as comforters, bolsterers, flashlights, and silver linings.

He does love a good pair of hands, doesn’t he?

He really is showing off for her, though, here. When Linda hasn’t been here, has Paul ever just sat down at the piano and run through all his new songs? Not even close. And it’s so immature and so lovely.

“It was like a comedy, when I heard it.” Proceeds to sing some of the most heavy, blue lyrics. The above comment on Paul’s music notwithstanding, I must admit there are also extreme levels of emotional repression going on.

“Castle of the King of the Birds”!!!!!!! First of all, who is the "king of the birds" if not Paul McCartney? It’s so extremely beautiful. Achingly so. When I fist heard it, I was like “where have I heard that before?” and when Peter Jackson pointed out that it’s the Top Gun theme? How many songs out there are actually Paul McCartney’s illegitimate children? Like, be Lennon/McCartney with me, for a minute here, and translate this sexual metaphor into musical terms. Paul just jerks it a bit, and before he can even finish, about ten people are pregnant from a drop of his precum and ten magical star children are born who he has no idea of. Does that make any kind of sense at all to anyone?

Honestly love the political version of get back. And clearly so does Yoko. That’s the most I’ve seen her get into a song they’ve written, like, ever. Hey, guys. I have an idea. Maybe you should ask the actual immigrant for ideas on your pro-immigration song. Just a thought.

When you’re trying to flirt with your new GF but your ex keeps making you giggle

A vignette of Lennon/McCartney’s writing process. Paul: trying to make up some lyrics. John: makes a joke lyric. Paul: puts it in and it works better than what he had. John:

John: I’ll be taking me shirt off. Paul: definitely not picturing it at all

Okay but my hot take is that the first two verses at least of “Came in through the bathroom window” are a diss track at Jane. Seriously though, it’s got to be one of my many underrated favs to come out of these sessions. Also, they’re so in love doing this one, my heart can’t take it.

“This isn’t daddy’s tea, is it?” And Yoko just, without skipping a beat, says, “No.” Girl, I know he’s the one calling you mommy in bed, don’t lie.

It’s the mutual caring of it all, you know? How he’s sitting in her lap while playing with her hair. How he makes her laugh and she buries her face in his tummy. Gosh, she’s gonna love that tummy for almost thirty years. And while the breakup is heartbreaking, isn’t that lovely to think about?

George, you should’ve made a Bob Dylan cover album. He sounds sooo pretty.

Ah, yes. The “Just Let it Be, love. He’s not going to leave you.” Dream Song. Which John does not look enthusiastic about. And then it becomes “Well, you said he wouldn’t leave me, mama. But, you know, he went and did it.”

Peter Jackson, WHERE is that Linda/Yoko dish session audio, you absolute monster! Those are Not small-talk faces. Would I rather listen to what they’ve got to say than hear one of the twentieth century’s greatest masterpieces come to be? Yes. Yes, I would.

#whew #Barely made that one in time to technically be on the same date #Taking the LSAT tomorrow afternoon send good vibes #paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #ringo starr #george harrison #get back #also why do I always call Linda and Yoko girly? I literally never say that irl

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piratefishmama · 1 year

Text

Vibe Check - Oneshot

Eddie would never claim to enjoy his job. It’d be far too strange for Eddie Munson to admit to enjoying a government based job but there was something fundamentally exciting about getting to see all the little gizmos and random shit that people tried to take onto aeroplanes with them.

Of course there was the usual, bottles of liquid over a certain amount, tiny scissors or nail clippers from grooming sets that they absolutely had no idea weren’t allowed on a plane. There were the fun days with the drugs, the weird days with bagged ashes for scattering purposes that looked like it could conceal drugs and thus had to be tested. Nothing like telling a family you had to test grandma for concealed cocaine cause the computer said no.

There were the shared looks between co-workers when they spotted a dipshit in line, be nice to your fellow flyers folks, the TSA might grab you for a full cavity check for funsies if you don’t!

But then, then, you’d have those people. The people who everyone would automatically judge by their cover because the cover was all they had. Eddie didn’t usually do that, he’d often stick with the vibes and let his co-workers base their hunches on looks, it worked for Eddie nine times out of ten but today..

Today he was off his game a little. The vibe check on this one guy was coming back ?????

Call a lawyer the guy looked like every suburban mothers' wet dream, the kind of guy who wore polo’s and sweater vests, and the type to have a yacht and actually go to the clubs for it on the regular, probably had a membership to his father’s golf club that he actually used. Maybe had a fancy corner office job in Indy, he looked like the corner office type. But the vibe check came back saying NAY, believing it on this particular occasion seemed like a stupid thing to do.

Like sure he was stunning, literally, just a beautiful specimen of a human being, which Eddie would quietly mourn never seeing again, but he looked so straight laced that even holding hands might be a stretch for him.

So Eddie was reduced to book cover judgements because the vibes were wonk. No big deal.

The guy was in his line, he didn’t look nervous or uncomfortable, taking his watch off, putting it into a tray, a ring not on his wedding ring finger went in, his members only jacket, his belt, and shoes, into a second went his phone and a small tablet plus their chargers. And into another went the carry on bag, he was prepared. He flew often enough to know about separating things into their own trays.

Probably some high-level business exec. He looked the type.

“Through here sir” his co-worker directed waving him through, the tray containing the guys carry-on was last, so he was through the detector clean as a whistle before Eddie had seen what was in his case.

Probably a good thing because Eddie nearly choked on his own saliva when that case rolled through.

Holy shit.

“Uhm” he squeaked. He. A grown man. Squeaked. He’d deny that later, even if his currently heated complexion was giving him away.

That... that was an entire carry on full of sex toys. What. The fuck. Was that a whip held together by handcuffs?

Maybe the vibes hadn’t let him down after all. His co-worker walked over, Mr Sex Pest in disguise cast them a raised brow.

“Holy shit...I’ll uhm ill just—”

“No the fuck you won’t” Eddie was up, scrambling around him after flagging the bag for checks. “I got this.” He had this. He was already in front of Sweater Vest before his partner could stop him from making the potentially career ending move of approaching the sneakiest sex loony ever with interest in mind. Sweater Vest could easily complain! Eddie had no real reason to flag it, they were all contained, no bottles, no concerning substances, just toys.

“Problem, sir?” Oh boy the airport was hot. Sweater Vest had moles, cute little moles, moving on.

“Just a few checks regarding the contents of your carry on.” Gloves on, he half expected the guy to try and stop him to save face, but no, he stood there with a raised brow and an amused little curl of a smile on his lips.

“Go ahead.” Zips open and holy shit. It was like Eddie had stepped into the back room of a sex shop. Floggers, a whip, plugs, vibes, clamps, shibari ropes, dildos, both fluffy and actually decent handcuffs, why have two pairs one shit and one not? They were all so neatly organised too, the man was tidy. Was that a sounding rod?!

Could be a creep, could be a creep, coooould be a creep.

“So...”

“So... sir?” Sweater vest seemed to be challenging him. Fine, he could play ball.

“Any liquids in here that I need to know about? Drinks? Lotion? Industrial sized bottle of lube?” At least Sweater Vest laughed. A surprised little giggle snort of laughter that sounded beautiful. Eddie couldn’t help but smile.

“Nope, that’d be in the checked case.” Oooh Sweater Vest had a sense of humour “sorry I know it looks a little whacky, I’m a panel runner at the BDSM convention in Illinois this weekend, i know i'm headed in early but panel runners have to get everything set up properly if they're there for the whole weekend.” Eddie’s eyes widened, holy shit the vibes WERE right, haha fuck you supervisor who called him arrogant when he claimed to just be able to tell with people. “These are for the demonstrations.”

“...Demonstrations, on...?” He had absolutely no right to ask these questions what so ever, his colleague was already probably planning on ratting him out, but while curiosity did indeed kill the cat, satisfaction brought it back!

“A friend, A willing member of the audience, a dummy, depends on the insurance the convention has, this one allows me to pick a very lucky member of the audience since my usual convention partner is in Hawaii on her honeymoon like a traitor.”

“So... you’re a uhm... a—” not okay not allowed big nope so very unprofessional he was so fired.

“Not a Dominant, no. I’m a Submissive, both professionally and personally” didn’t need to tell him the personally bit, didn’t need to tell him that at all but he did, it was there, Sweater vest seemed pretty happy about it being out there too “I co-own an adult shop in Indy, one of the best for this kind of stuff but I have plenty of recommendations if you're not interested in my shop, here,” Sweater Vest pulled a gods honest business card out of a small compartment in the case, which listed him as the managing director/owner of one of Eddie's favourite sex shops of all time, a shop he’d only ever ordered from online so he’d never seen the owners. They had an incredible BDSM range and also delivered discreetly, they were a privately owned small business run right out of Indianapolis, also on the card though, was an Only Fans account, holy shit. “That ok with you, sir?” Sweet Cheesus on toast, had his pants just shrunk?

Steve. Steve Harrington. God that was such a golf club guys name, Steve leaned forward onto his elbows at a slight bend, eyeing Eddie up like he wanted to eat him alive, any other situation, Eddie would have let him. He wanted to bend that little brat over his knee. He loved bratty subs.

“Illinois huh?” Eddie zipped the case right back up again, as if he’d actually checked anything. He hadn’t. “Was thinking of going to that one actually, more of a dominant myself though...” trying so hard to be nonchalant to the most beautiful and confident Submissive he’d ever seen in his life “this a beginners panel?”

Steve smiled, clearly not angered by this deeply unprofessional halt to his journey. “Beginner, intermediate, pro, it’s more new toy and prop range demonstrations and a Q&A mainly, a variety of folks usually attend so... no matter your experience level you should come, maybe I’ll even make you my lucky audience member.” Steve took that card back, just to make a show of slipping it into Eddies chest pocket, tapping it once for good luck. “Can I get to my gate now, sir? Or do I need to be detained? I’m sure a cavity search would be awfully entertaining for me...considering...”

He couldn’t not ask “Considering?” His throat felt so dry, where was a confiscated bottle of unopened soda when you needed it?

“There’s four plugs in there, I actually have five” he winked, he winked. “The fifth wouldn’t fit.”

“Fuck...” Eddie breathed, much to the man’s amusement. “You’re ah—you’re free to go” he couldn’t actually hold him there and his co-workers were already starting to glare at him.

Steve grinned broadly at him before moving to grab his things, calling out a cheery “see you this weekend!” before he was off, and Eddie was taking his break early to book the next flight out to Illinois.

#PirateWrites #Inspired by a funny post by ayes on twitter #Steddie #No Upside Down - Alternate Universe #Ficlet #one shot #TSA Eddie #sex shop owner Steve

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softxsuki · 1 year

Note

Hey there!!

I just discovered your blog while looking for some comfort fics and I immediately loved your newest Hawks fic and I will definitely be checking out your Yona fics now!🥹🥹

I have an urgent request too actually but pls don't feel pressured or anything if you are busy!! I'm just having a really bad BPD episode at the moment and I have the urge to cut everyone I love off because I feel unloved by them and like such a burden to everyone and I feel like I can't handle the pain anymore..

Sooo therefore I'd like to request Drabbles/Oneshots (honestly fully up to you) for Hawks, Gojo and Lucifer (only if that's okay for you ofc!!🩷) with a reader who acts all cold and becomes more and more distant in their relationship and when they confront her about it she breaks down and admits that she did it out of fear that they were going to abandon her anyway and bcs she felt like they deserved better..?

I know it's very specific and I am kind of embarrassed to ask for it but honestly my fav characters are my only source of comfort rn and I saw that you do mental health requests/comfort fics and I thought it's the sweetest and most thoughtful thing ever!!🥲

So even if you won't write this for or can't do it "immediately" I wanna thank you for doing this for the mentally ill folks who get their comfort from fictional characters. You are a lovely person! 🥹

-🩷

Hawks, Gojo, and Lucifer (Separate) with Reader Who Tries To Cut Them Out of Her Life

Pairings: Hawks x Fem!Reader, Gojo x Fem!Reader, Lucifer x Fem!MC

Warnings: mentions of feeling like a burden, wanting to cut loved ones out of your life, unedited (excuse any mistakes)

Genre: comfort

Post-Type: headcanons

Word Count: 1.07k

Summary: In which you try and distance yourself from them and they realize and try to talk it out with you (Yeah ik I'm still bad at writing these summaries, I'm sorry 😢 😂 )

[A/N: HEY! Thank you so much for your sweet words! I'm blessed that I'm able to write things for people that provide them with comfort. I'm so sorry for the long wait, life has been crazy, but I managed to find the motivation to get this done today! I hope it helps. I know you were looking for oneshots or drabbles, but I only write headcanons when someone wants a request for multiple people, so I hope that's okay! Enjoy! I hope it provides you with a little bit of comfort if anything :) <3 Take care!]

Hawks:

He gets very petty and if you decide to avoid him, he won’t make the effort to force you to be in his presence, but ofc it does sadden him, he loves you and having you push him away and not reach out to him less and less, hurts

Until one day he grows impatient with your silence

What did he do to have you shut him out? Why were you doing this?

He needed answers and he needed them now, so get ready for him banging at your door and inviting himself in as soon as you open it a crack

Hawks is gentle with the way he approaches the issue, honestly he might think that he may have accidentally done or said something without realizing it that possibly hurt your feelings

So he begins with an apology and just asks what you need him to do for you to forgive him for whatever he’s done

You mean the world to him, so having you slowly push him away from you without any kind of warning makes him nervous…he can’t lose you

“I know I’m out frequently doing hero work, and I sometimes have to leave our dates if I’m called for an emergency. I’m sorry if you’ve felt like I don’t care about you because of these things. But I want you to know right here and now that I love you so much and nothing will ever change that. So please, let me into your heart, don’t push me away anymore Y/N…”

Once you tell him that you’ve just been feeling like a burden to him, he moves quickly to wipe those thoughts out of your head

Never once has he thought you were a burden and his love for you just seems to grow as the days pass

Moving forward, he tries his best to verbally express his feelings for you more often, as well as trying to find time to see you again if he ever has to leave for a hero emergency

From now on, you’ll never doubt his love for you–and please, just mention whenever you feel this way again to him, he’d love to talk it out with you instead of just having you push him away

Gojo:

This man gets so pouty when you decide to ignore him

But it doesn’t affect how much he sees you on a daily basis

He refuses to let you avoid him and will continue to stick by your side

He’ll annoy you with his presence everyday, until you lash out in desperation because as much as you tried to slowly avoid him he was always there

But he remains unphased through it all and continues to act like this idiot he is

He does however, decide to get a little serious and hear you out as to why you are attempting to push him away, when you already know you’re stuck with him for life

Gojo isn’t stupid, as much as he tries to avoid serious conversations, once you actually open up to him, he knows that it’s time to listen to you and be there for you.

So when he hears that you’ve been feeling like a burden to him, he patiently listens to you the whole time

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that. If anything I’m probably the one who’s a burden on you. I know I can be too much sometimes, but I just want to make sure you’re always happy. I’m sorry for not realizing your feelings sooner, Y/N. I don’t know exactly what's going on in that head of yours, and even though I joke around too much you can always open up to me about all those complicated feelings in your heart.”

A rare, empathetic Gojo moment that you out of everyone else in his life gets to see, so it’s truly an honor

Be he wipes an insecurities you may be feeling away and gets to joking around again in hope that it helps lift your mood

He’d probably put his phone on silent from all the elder higher-ups trying to contact him and spend the day with you–after all you are the most important person in his life, he’d do anything for you

Lucifer:

Out of everyone else on this list, Lucifer definitely knows what’s up even by the slightest change in your mood or actions towards him

I picture him not caring that you’re pushing him away, he's still going to go see you every morning and wish you goodnight every night

Stubbornness doesn’t work on him. He’s been alive for too long to have things go over his head so he already can kinda guess what’s going on with you after avoiding him just once

Literally, he sense something is off so fast, and his pride won’t allow him to just leave you be so you hear him knocking at your bedroom door so fast; you didn’t even get a chance to properly try and avoid him NFJENAKF

So he gets down to business very quickly, asking you what’s been going on and what he can do to help you feel better

Don’t even try to play dumb and act like nothing's wrong by trying to persuade him that you’re completely fine–he will see right through all your attempts

Once he is aware of how you’ve been feeling, he’s almost offended

“Have I done anything to prove that I do not care for you anymore MC? I invite you to my room each night, I treat you with respect and as much love as I possibly can. I know I’m not always as open with my feelings in public, but we both know that if I didn’t care for you, I wouldn't give you my time of day. That would never happen though, I’m already in too deep for you and nothing can change that…not even if Diavolo himself commanded it.”

He’s a passionate man, and knowing that you felt like he didn’t love you anymore really bruised his pride.

Expect many romantic advances after this; private dinners at Ristorante Six (he’ll rent out the whole place for you), going to see plays together, late night walks in the devildom away from his chaotic brothers who won’t leave you alone, and much more

He’ll make sure you know he loves you at the end of every night, so be prepared!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN :D

Posted: 4/26/2023

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

AITA for giving a friend-of-a-friend the cold shoulder?

(First off, please note that most of this is just over Discord, because distance is homophobic)

I (26m) met the person in question - let's call them T, 24f) - about two weeks ago. The vibes have been kind of off for a while - they're really bad at socializing, worse even then the rest of the autistic folks I know and love, and they can get aggressive and pushy around misunderstandings - but nothing unforgivable. Then yesterday my beloved W (24nb) who I've known and been in love with for about two years was unlucky enough to trip T's issues. It definitely wasn't all T - W was bantering with them in a way that's definitely too harsh in hindsight - but T gave every indication that they were fine and enjoying it, right up until they snapped and pushed W into an emotional breakdown. (To be fair, W was already pretty close to a breakdown at that point, but still.) Our friends were pretty pissed at T, and even T's friends had a hard time getting her to admit that she should have communicated and that just saying "this feels bad" would've gotten W to drop it immediately. There was a lot of anger and a lot of protectiveness of W. But S (23nb), dating both W and T and a few other people, tried to mediate.

Today, T and W apologized to each other - T for not communicating, W for being too mean. They're apparently friends now, closer than they were before the event, although W has said it "feels weird" and maybe they'll end up pulling back later. S is just happy their loved ones like each other. But me and everyone else who knows W better than T are still angry to varying degrees with T, and one of W's loves is planning on leaving the server rather than risk becoming "angry controlling girlfriend" over W. I'm not planning on doing that, but...I'm sure as hell not engaging with T like W and S are. Not outright ignoring her or anything, but definitely not being any more than polite. I know T wasn't malicious, she was mid-breakdown at the time too and she didn't want to hurt W like this, but when I was talking to her at S's request later she lashed out at me pretty rough. And in anyone else, I'd justify it, but...I just don't like T. It doesn't help that I think T does want to do better, and - eventually - be a good friend.

So, AITA for not engaging with T like S, W, and T herself would like, despite W forgiving her?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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doberbutts · 10 months

Note

There’s also all the Tiger Woods stuff — as that one well circulated post put it ‘hearing about tiger woods as a child in the early 2000s you’d assume he was going to jail’ I get that in the immediate aftermath of the revelation it was like. PERFECT TMZ shit, high drama and all, but god that got dragged on and on

Yup, people get really weird when literally any black celebrity does anything wrong.

Which, don't get me wrong. Vick's fighting ring was horrific. The firsthand accounts of what happened on that property were truly gruesome. It was bad.

But. But. But. He also went to prison. For nearly two years. And then he spent some additional time in and out and on house arrest due to various violations of parole. He paid the maximum fine allowed by law. He was punished. People to this day, 16 years later, post fantasies about how much they want to kill him, torture him, and continuously ruin his life. They talk about how every time he does anything new, they call up the people in charge and protest and get signatures on petitions etc until inevitably the company caves and cancels whatever contract they've got with him. There are people who still will not watch the Eagles play even though he hasn't been involved with them in over a decade.

What punishment is enough? Does one black man need to spend the rest of his life being hounded by these self-professed dog lovers in order to have proper penance for his crimes? Does he need to spend the rest of his life in prison? Should he be executed as these people are calling for? Is he never allowed to make any money ever again? Is he permanently banned from any form of media coverage? Currently he's doing a miniseries where he dives into the lives of black quarterbacks, which people have tried to get cancelled because he's going to make money off of it and they don't want a dog fighter to have any amount of spotlight. None of the dogs removed from him are even alive anymore. When is it enough? When can we say, okay he has learned his lesson, he is allowed to be just a guy again?

Never? Forever punishment is acceptable? This is really the opinion we're going to have on the prison abolition website, where we say that forever punishment is bad and teaches nothing except that everyone is one major screwup away from being worth less than dirt? Really?

The thing is. When black people say black lives matter. They mean all black lives matter. Even the lives of black people that it's hard to defend. Even the criminal matters, because he is a human, and he has life, and he can be so much more than just a man in a box for the rest of his life.

And that is especially true when other football stars have gotten off more lightly for worse. The children JoePa knew about are still alive and dealing with their trauma today as adults, and they get to live with the knowledge that he knew and he chose not to help and he is still celebrated and worshipped as a coaching god to this day. People only get this intense about it when it's black folks doing it.

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rawritzrobin · 1 year

Text

The Waynes: Chapter 2

Title: The Waynes

Pairing: Mobster!Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: A bit of a nod to violence, but nothing descriptive. Somewhat signs of stalking?

Summary: Your mundane life changed the day a certain man walked through the doors of the bakery. You now had something to look forward to everyday.

A/N: Thank you all so much for the love on the first chapter!! It was a story that really sat with me for a while. I’m still figuring things out as I go so updates wont be happening as fast as I would hope. Slowly, but surely!

Taglist (if I missed you apologies, I saw some that came through a long time ago that might not be on this list. Please comment if you want to be added and ill drop your name into this list asap!): @msghostface @khaylin27 @thequeenofbigmacs @escapism-r-us @orighami @neobreakmyback @bubbles-incorrect-yb @hypnobanditprofessorhorse-blog

Masterlist | Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Hi Stranger

The bell to the front door sounded, and your mood instantly shifted. Every day around this time, a certain tall, dark, and handsome man would come by and buy a couple of croissants. You smiled as you let your fantasies run wild for one second, imagining the handsome stranger whisking you away to a better place. You tried to push away the negative thoughts.

Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome was probably a taken man with your luck.

You weren’t really sure you would see him again after that incident with Randy. In fact, now that you thought about it, you never saw Randy again after that night. You wondered if he found another girl to harass. But it didn’t matter, he was out of your hair.

You quickly ran to the front to greet the customer, hoping it was your crush. You smiled when you saw the man with black hair and a white tuff. Jason was his name. You took a second to admire his suit. You were sure he was very well off. He always came in wearing a different suit, each of them specially tailored just for him. Probably some sort of finance man.

“Hi there.” You said cheerfully. “The usual?”

Jason looked up from his phone, where he was sending a quick message to his driver, and instantly smiled when he saw you. You still didn’t know that you were basically the only person he smiled for. You just assumed he was a nice man.

“Hey Doll. Of course. Can’t get enough of those croissants.”

Butterflies ran through your stomach as you tried your hardest not to blush when he called you Doll.

“Did you have a good day today?” You said making friendly conversation.

Jason tried his best to not flinch. He had just finished a semi intense interrogation with one of their suppliers. The team had intel that this man was feeding shipment info to the Falcones. He wasn’t exactly having the best day. But his mood always picked up when he saw the front of your shop.

“Eh, as good as can be. Can’t complain.” Jason said with a slight chuckle, he didn’t want to bring down the mood with his awful day. “And you?”

You gave a tired laugh.

“Nothing much! Just happy the day is almost over. It’s been pretty busy with the Holidays coming up soon. It will be really busy once Thanksgiving rolls around.”

“Got any plans?”

You shook your head, “No. My folks aren’t around anymore. So it’s just me.” You stopped yourself and looked down for a second. The Holidays were always a hard time, especially nowadays. Jason didn’t say another word.

You smiled, a way to distract yourself from your feelings. “It will be new years before we know it.”

Jason looked at you sadly. He kept quiet, not wanting to pry anymore today. He was secretly hoping that you would open up to him one day soon.

You finished ringing him up when you noticed a flash of red on his hand.

You gasped and pointed to his hand when you noticed it was a large cut. “Jason, you’re hurt.”

Jason’s eyes quickly shot to his hand. He chuckled nervously. There was a bit of glass that went flying when he threw the man into the mirror on the wall earlier. One of the shards must have nicked him. He couldn’t even feel the cut on his hand. His line of work tended to cause a lot of injuries to his body. Especially when they fought back. He had gotten used to the smaller wounds.

He pulled his hand away, trying to hide it. “Oh yeah, some glass broke while I was helping do some dishes at work today. Must’ve cut me and I didn’t even notice. It’s okay.”

You shook your head in disagreement. “No, it looks like it needs some medical attention. Wait here.” You said, quickly jogging into the main office. You turned on the lights and made your way into the back of the room. The red and white first aid kit sat in the corner. You picked it up with ease and made your way back to Jason.

You opened the door that allowed you into the front of the shop and ushered Jason to sit into one of the seats at the front.

“May I?” You asked, gesturing for him to give you his hand.

Jason hesitantly brought his hand up into yours. You examined it closely.

The cut wasn’t too deep. Luckily it wouldn't need any stitches. You turned away from his hand, still holding it in your left hand, and with your other hand, rifled through the first aid kit. After a few seconds you found what you were looking for.

You looked up at him. “This is going to sting a little.”

Jason nodded, merely focusing on how soft your hands were in his. He watched as you gently tore open the alcohol pad and slowly began to wipe it over his cut. He winced slightly, it hurt, but not nearly as much as his other wounds he had sustained over the years. Under his suit were more than a handful of scars from past jobs Bruce had him on. This scratch on his hand was merely another addition.

He looked up from his wound and watched you work. You were hyper focused on making sure everything was okay. After you cleaned the cut, you added some antiseptic to make sure the wound would heal fast. You finished up by gently wrapping up his hand in a fresh bandage.

“All done. It should heal within a few days. Just clean it once a day.”

Jason looked down at his hand, and then up at you. Your eyes met and you looked away once you realized he was staring, hoping you weren’t as red as you felt.

“Thank you.” He said in a gentle voice.

You quickly cleaned up the kit, and made your way back behind the counter after washing your hands. Jason watched you move around quickly, but gracefully. Jason stood up as you closed the lid to the box.

“Here you go. They were fresh when you walked in.” You said with a large grin.

Jason admired you for a second. He had come over a dozen times to see you. Yet every time he saw you, he still got butterflies in his stomach. No woman has ever done that to him before. Girls threw themselves at him constantly at the club. There was something about you he couldn’t shake.

“Thank you. And thank you for helping me with my hand.”

“Of course! Happy to help.” You said looking up at him once more. Your eyes met once again, and the world stood still for that one moment.

“Well I better get going.” Jason said, a hint of sadness in his voice. “I'll see you around.”

You smiled and waved him out the door. You looked down sadly, your favorite time of day over, when the door chime rang once again.

“Wel…” You began to say, when you noticed it was Jason. “Jason, did you forget something?”

“Uh no. There was actually something.. Something I wanted to ask you.” He said, nervously.

You didn’t notice as your heart began to beat faster and faster. Did you cross the line today? Was this him coming in to tell you that he had a girlfriend and to stay away from him? The possibilities were endless. “What is it?” You asked, nervously.

Jason couldn’t believe he was doing this. He could count the number of times on one hand he had ever asked out a girl. That number was one, when he was hitting on Babs for fun when he was younger. He wasn’t even planning on doing this until he walked out the door. Maybe he should just tell her he changed his mind.

“I uh, I was wondering if you had any plans tomorrow night?” The words managed to slip out.

Your eyes widened, you were not expecting that. “Um, no. I work early tomorrow, so I should be done by five.”

Jason’s excitement grew, with that his confidence shot up. He had one of his men follow you around for a bit. He wanted to make sure you didn’t have a boyfriend or husband of some sort. He was relieved when his spy came back and gave him the good news that you were single. It actually came from your own mouth when he overheard you telling the bakery owner that you were “Sadly, going to be single forever.”

Still, even with that information, Jason was nervous.

“Would you want to go have dinner with me? There’s a new restaurant in the diamond district. I got invited to a pre-opening, and I have a plus one.” Jason held his breath waiting for your answer. Just 30 minutes ago he had a man begging for mercy at his feet. Right now, he felt like the tables were turned.

You weren’t sure if you heard what you thought you heard. Was this really happening? Maybe you were dreaming. But if you were, you didn’t want this dream to end. Your lips turned up into a smile as you nodded excitedly. “Yes. I would love to.”

The weight of the world seemed to just disappear off Jason's shoulder all at once. He could not be smiling any harder. The butterflies in his stomach were going crazy. “Alright. Cool. Um, do you live nearby? I can pick you up around seven. That should give you some time to go home and change.” He said as he pretended to not already know where you lived.

He was a Wayne. The Waynes knew everything and everyone in their neighborhood.

“Yeah, not too far. Just a ten minute walk.” You looked around the counter for a notepad. You reached for the large one near the register. You quickly wrote down your address and phone number. “Here.” You said handing it to Jason. You were blushing quite hard now.

Jason took the piece of paper with a wide grin on his face. “Okay, I'll see you tomorrow at seven.”

“Sounds good. See you then.” You waved Jason goodbye once more. Once he was out of sight, you pinched yourself to make sure you weren’t dreaming.

“Did that really just happen?” You mutter to yourself. Your mouth twisted up into a smile.

The smile on your face never faltered. Not as a rude customer threw a tantrum at the fact that you ran out of sweet cream horns two minutes before closing. Not as you spilled the leftover whipped cream all over the floor before locking up. Not as you walked home that night.

Jason, the handsome man you had been crushing on for weeks, just asked you out on a date. Nothing could tear you down. At least, for now.

A/N: It’s not much for now. But as the story progresses things will pick up. :3

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munson-blurbs · 2 years

Note

Hello! If you’re still taking requests, could I request a “3+1” kind of fic with Eddie where it’s the 3 times he tries to woo/impress his crush and the 1 time he succeeds?

Purple Rain

Eddie's flair for the dramatic doesn't bode well when he tries to impress his crush.

Warnings: language, reference to sex but no smut, Jason Carver being a bully

WC: 2.2k

A/N: This is just basically all fluff with a little bit of angst. But there's a happy ending, don't worry! Thank you for the request <3

The First Time

If Eddie's going to graduate this year, he has to actually show up for classes. It's 7:30 AM, but it might as well be the crack of dawn. He has English first period and sluggishly meanders down the hall into the classroom.

"How nice of you to join us today, Mr. Munson," Ms. O'Donnell says with a smirk as Eddie slumps down into his seat. He hears a snicker behind him and swivels around to see you covering your mouth, as if you surprised yourself with your own reaction.

"Something funny?" he whispers. You shake your head, willing a serious expression.

"Okay, folks," O'Donnell announces, "you're going to work with a partner to discuss the symbolism behind the eyes of Dr. T.J. Eckleburg from The Great Gatsby."

Before you get a chance to scan the classroom, Eddie plops his book on your desk with a grin. "Hi, partner." He looks at the concert tee you're wearing and points. "Prince fan, huh? Very original."

You exhale and groan inwardly. "Just start," you order, fully expecting him to come up with a bullshit answer.

But Eddie's prepared; not just for class, but to work with you. You always know all the answers, seemingly before O'Donnell even poses the question. Your ex-boyfriend was the valedictorian last year, and he knew he had to step up his game to impress you.

"Wait, I took notes on this," he says, tongue poking out between his lips as he flips through his worn spiral notebook. "A-ha! Here it is." He clears his throat and begins speaking in an exaggerated drawl. "The eyes of Dr. T.J. Eckleburg are like the eyes of God, watching over the characters." He looks up at you proudly.

"Mhm," you agree, taking out a pencil and jotting down his answer. You see his confident smile falter. "What?"

"N-nothing," he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Did you expect a whole celebration for actually doing your homework?" you laugh, kind of meanly. You feel bad until you remember the last project where he was your partner. "Partner" was too strong of a word, considering you ended up doing the whole thing alone.

"Wouldn't kill you to say 'good job,'" Eddie mumbles, but you roll your eyes and keep writing.

The Second Time

A few days later, you're munching on a peanut butter sandwich and enjoying a conversation with some of your friends from drama club. The cafeteria is buzzing with excitement about the winter formal tonight, but you're not going. College isn't going to pay for itself, so you've picked up an extra shift at work

"I can't believe you're missing the dance," your friend Kate whines, pouting. "It's our senior year!"

"Just call out from work," agrees Jen, popping a potato chip into her mouth. "'S not like they'll fire their star employee."

You sigh. "Even if I wanted to, I don't have a dress, or shoes, or a date."

"What a surprise--the loser doesn't have a date." You cringe as you hear Jason Carver walking past you with his group of basketball cronies. They're all laughing and high-fiving like he said the funniest thing ever.

You want to shrink into the bench, but Jason only raises his voice.

"C'mon, sweetheart, don't be shy," he taunts. "HEY, EVERYBODY! WHO WANTS TO TAKE HAWKINS HIGH'S NUMBER ONE THEATER NERD TO THE WINTER FORMAL?" he yells, a shit-eating grin spreading across his face.

"Jason, just stop," you croak, but he either doesn't hear you or simply doesn't care. Your eyes could bore a hole into the ground when you hear the jock mutter, "oh, what the..."

You lift your gaze to see Eddie Munson walk over. Burying your head in your hands, you just pray that you evaporate.

"Hey, fuckface," Eddie snarls, "leave her alone."

Jason snorts. "Look, it's one freak defending another. A match made in loser heaven." He crosses his arms and takes a step towards Eddie, raising his voice. "You gonna take her to the dance tonight, Munson? Maybe bring her back to your dirty little trailer and take her virginity?"

The last thing you want is more eyes on you, but it seems like Eddie doesn't get memo. He stands up on the table and cups his hands around his mouth. "ATTENTION HAWKINS HIGH FACULTY AND STUDENTS! JASON CARVER HAS A TINY LITTLE PENIS AND HAS TO TAKE OUT HIS AGGRESSION ON INNOCENT WOMEN!" He looks down at you, hoping to get your approval, but you've already dashed out of the room and head for the library, leaving your lunch half-eaten. He packs it back up into the brown paper bag and sets off to find you.

The Third Time

You're at your locker, ready to swap out your math books for history, when you feel a tap on your shoulder. You see long, curly hair out of the corner of your eye. While you can't say that you're excited to see Eddie, you're relieved that it's not Jason.

"Hey," he says with a small smile, "you, uh, you're a waitress, right?"

"Yup. I work at Benny's," you reply, closing your locker and turning the dial.

"Are you working tonight?"

You shake your head. "Nope, I'm off."

He exhales softly. "Could I ask you for a favor?" He doesn't wait for your response before plunging in, "My band plays The Hideout tonight, but two of the waitstaff called out sick. The manager is gonna close tonight and cancel our gig if he can't find someone."

You look up at him, noting a hopeful gleam in his eyes. You could use the money, so you nod. "What time?"

He beams at you, and you notice how warm his smile is. "Um, he would need you there at 8. The shift would end at midnight, but I can convince him to let you out early, after our set."

"Yeah, sounds good."

"Cool," he shoves his hands in his pockets. "I can pick you up at 7:30, if you want."

"It's okay; I have a car." You refuse to climb into his deathtrap of a van that you can hear rumbling down the street from a mile away.

"Oh, yeah, right," he says sheepishly, blushing, "then I'll see you there."

The Hideout is a hole-in-the-wall dive bar. As you as you enter, you feel the stickiness of old spilled beer tack onto your shoes. The manager is a middle-aged, stout balding man named Cal.

"All right, girly, just take the orders and smile. Maybe show a little cleavage. Y'get bigger tips," Cal instructs. You roll your eyes as he walks away.

Eddie's band, Corroded Coffin, is setting up onstage. It's basically just the Hellfire Club, plus instruments and sans freshmen. You listen to them warm up as you serve watered-down drinks to creepy old men who watch you intently as you walk away. Eddie's keeping an eye on you the whole time, making sure no one tries anything.

When the show begins, you have to admit that Eddie's stage presence is electrifying. He makes playing guitar look easy, though you're sure he spends nearly every waking moment practicing. You offer him a small smile, and he returns it with a wink.

After an hour, they're wrapping up when Eddie takes the mic. "Gonna switch things up a bit here; do a song we haven't performed before. So, uh, take it easy on us." You raise your eyebrows quizzically and he makes direct eye contact with you while playing a familiar tune.

"I never meant to cause you any sorrow I never meant to cause you any pain I only wanted one time to see you laughing I only wanted to see you Laughing in the purple rain"

His voice is sultry, sending chills down your spine. You forget that you're technically on the clock, setting your tray down on the bar and allowing the music to envelop you. That's when you see another waitress walk by, serving a greasy plate of nachos to a wasted customer. And you realize the real reason Eddie wanted you here.

You listen to the rest of the song with a gigantic smile on your face. The other waitress is also watching, practically eye-fucking Eddie. She bounds over to the makeshift stage as soon as their set is over, running a polishing fingernail down his exposed chest and hooking a finger into his belt loop. You tear your eyes away immediately, tears forming in your eyes. How could you be so stupid? Why would Eddie Munson go for you when he has hot groupie waitresses at his beck and call?

You speed-walk over to Cal. "I'm, um, not feeling great," you mumble, and when he cocks an eyebrow, you pull out your secret weapon: "That time of the month." He squirms uncomfortably, which was your goal.

"All right, let me pay you and tip you out," he says, opening the register.

You shake your head. "I'll come back tomorrow," you promise, and push open the door to the parking lot, deeply breathing in the cold winter air.

Eddie, meanwhile, is trying to politely get away from the flirtatious waitress while keeping an eye on you. It seems like he just looks away for a second before you're gone.

"Fuck," he hisses under his breath.

The Fourth Time

You've been going out of your way to avoid talking to Eddie. You even moved your seat in O'Donnell's class, which you played off by telling her you needed to sit closer to the board to see better. To invite you to watch him play one of your favorite songs and then flirt with someone else in front of you? Your heart pangs every time you think about it.

Eddie's all but given up on impressing you. He doesn't understand why you wouldn't hear him out, let him explain that there was nothing going on between him and the waitress. His friends see the change in his demeanor; he's quiet and sullen while he eats his lunch.

"I just don't know what else I can do!" he laments. "I confront Jason for her in front of the whole damn school, I serenade her at my show..." He throws his hands up in defeat.

"Dude," Lucas Sinclair pipes up from his seat, "have you actually tried doing something for her that's, I don't know, not a public spectacle?"

Dustin Henderson nods. "Yeah, I mean, everything doesn't have to be a production. Just...tell her how you feel. Privately," he emphasizes.

Eddie's eyes widen, a plan formulating in his head. "Who has paper and a pen? C'mon, one of you little sheep has to!"

A carefully folded slip of paper falls to the ground when you open your locker after lunch. You open it and read:

Meet me in the drama/Hellfire room right after school. Just you + me, I promise. -E

Your stomach flips. What could he possibly have to say to you? You stuff the note into your pocket; you have three more classes to make up your mind. Hopefully you can figure it out by then.

Eddie's already waiting for you when you walk in the room. It's chilly, and you pull your arms to your chest as you make your way towards him.

"You came," he says, smiling softly. It melts your icy exterior enough for you to drop your hands to your sides.

"I did," you confirm. "What did you want to talk about? Your hook-up with that waitress after the show?" It comes out snarkier than you intended, but you can't take it back now.

For the second time today, Eddie is caught off-guard. "Hook-up with...is that why you've been acting like I'm invisible? Because you think I slept with..." He pushes his hair out of his eyes. "No, I definitely didn't get with her."

A sour taste fills your mouth. "Oh," you manage, feeling both stupid and relieved. "I-I'm sorry. I thought..."

"Did you really think I'd invite you to watch me sing a song I learned just for you and then have sex with some waitress that I barely know?" He laughs gently. "Geez, sweetheart, I'd hoped you thought more of me."

He paces as he talks to you. "The real reason is not because I'm some slimy douchebag, contrary to your opinion," his eyes narrow, but they're still playful, "but because I wanted to impress you."

It's your turn to be stunned. "Why?" you ask dumbly, garnering another chuckle from Eddie.

"Why?" he echoes. "Because you're smart, and sweet, and cute, and call me out on my bullshit, and I wanted to take you on a date."

"You could've just asked me, y'know," you say, toying with the hem of your jacket. "Didn't have to go to all those lengths. You made me work on my day off!" you tease, poking his chest with your finger.

Eddie shrugs. "Okay. Do you want to go on a date with me this Friday? Nothing crazy. Just the two of us, dinner at Enzo's, actually getting to talk to each other?"

You look up at him and smile. "Looks like you finally figured me out. Color me impressed, Munson."

#eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #requests

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vukovich · 2 years

Note

HI THIS IS PRIMA

I formally request: “One Last Time” by Ariana Grande ❤️

The Wrong Sort

Draco half-rolled, half-fell onto his back, his skin sweaty against Harry’s sheets. He licked his dry lips and exalted the plaster ceiling with, “Jesus fucking Christ.”

Harry’s head settled onto Draco’s chest, and Draco ran fingers through his sweaty curls. Harry let out a self-congratulatory “mm hm."

“We’re entirely too good at that.” Draco’s thundering heartbeat came to a canter, and he relaxed into the pillows. “We should co-author a book.”

Harry hummed again, drowsily, but his breathing didn’t slow. His jaw muscle pulsed against Draco’s chest.

“Pen names,” Draco said curtly, the solution to the unspoken problem. “Just two unknown blokes, writing the book on fucking,” he said, confidence waning at the end. “Just… some… blokes.”

Harry didn’t reply, but he didn’t pretend to fall asleep. Normally, he fell asleep on Draco’s chest afterward. But maybe Draco didn’t know what ‘normal’ was yet. He only had a sample size of a dozen nights, or maybe fifty, but probably closer to a hundred. Not that he’d been counting.

But tonight was different.

He wiggled down in bed until Harry’s forehead was against his chin. He kissed Harry’s scar, then spoke against his skin. “I got your wedding invitation in the post today.”

At that, Harry deigned fit to speak, but not until he’d drawn a full breath from against Draco’s skin. “I still have yours in my vault.”

Draco scoffed. “You do not.”

“Mm hm,” Harry hummed again, wrapping an arm and leg over Draco. “Between the gilding and the misprint, it might be worth something.”

Draco scoffed again and laced his fingers with Harry’s, then pulled until Harry’s arm was tucked fully around his chest. “Between the gifts, the refunded deposits, and the travel insurance, that wedding was quite valuable. Even split two ways.”

“How is Astoria, anyway?” Harry mouthed at Draco’s chest hair.

Draco slapped him lightly on the shoulder. “Changing the subject.” Harry went still, but was too tense to be sleeping. Draco let out a sigh that was all but relaxed. “You told me.”

Harry barely moved air when he whispered, “I know.”

“You specifically said you wouldn’t let it get to invitations.”

“I know.”

“Because invitations means expenses, and they can’t afford it.”

“I know.” Harry’s arm and leg were dead weight.

“But you said you’d call it off before she picked a date, too, so why did I believe you about the invitations? Why did I believe you when you said you wouldn’t buy her a ring?” Draco’s chest and face ran hot, and the tips of his ears burned. “Why do I always fucking believe you, Harry?”

Harry had the decency to sniffle and hold Draco tighter. “I don’t know.”

Harry’s tears dropped and smeared against Draco’s shoulder. Draco wrapped his arm around the back of Harry’s head and pulled him close. He buried his face in soft curls and whispered, halfway to a smile, “I’ll come, you know.”

Harry said nothing, but his cheek crinkled in a grin, and he rolled his weight against Draco.

“Don’t think I won’t.” Draco stroked the curls from Harry’s forehead and kissed him again. “I’ll show up at your wedding on a Thestral.” Harry tried to hide his smile against Draco’s shoulder. “I’ll show up stark naked on a bloody Thestral and announce that you, Mister Potter,” Draco tugged his curls with his lips, “are no marriageable maiden.”

“I know,” Harry snort-laughed into Draco’s armpit.

“No blushing bridegroom here, folks!” Draco hoisted himself up on one elbow and shoved Harry onto his back. “Go home, everyone, this man has been sullied! He is unfit for the marriage bed!”

Harry grinned up at him, his hands clasped behind Draco’s neck, and in a split-second Draco saw his future and his doom written in curls against cotton.

Draco let himself be pulled down, onto Harry, between his thighs, inside him again that night.

After Harry came, and Draco admitted ejaculatory defeat, they lay together again, this time with Harry’s back against Draco’s side. Draco rolled over, curling himself around Harry.

Draco hated begging, and this felt like begging. “Owl me as soon as you call it off?”

Harry wrapped Draco’s hand around his, then brought their knuckles to his lips. “I will.”

He didn’t.

Months ticked by, and no Owl message came. Harry came. Plenty. His house became off limits, so he came to Draco’s. He came to Draco’s bed more than he stayed in his own.

He came with flowers, with candy, and once with a set of cufflinks.

Draco accepted them out of politeness. “You’re buying me jewelry?”

“I… yeah.”

He also came with excuses.

“I’ll call it off by the end of the month,” he’d say. “Before we pick a venue.” And then, “Next week.”

Last night, he’d said, “Tomorrow.”

Tonight, he says, “I”ll just not show up tomorrow.”

Draco is on his side, running one hand up and down Harry’s back. “Leave her at the altar, hm?”

Harry turns his face towards Draco, a smirk already on it. “That’s an old joke.”

“What is?” Draco pinches the bridge of Harry’s glasses and pulls.

Harry lifts his head and lets Draco remove his glasses. “How could anyone leave a woman like that at the altar?” he says from an old script.

“How?” Draco folds Harry’s glasses and puts them on the nightstand.

Harry smirks again. “Fuckin’ fast, is how ya leave her.”

“That’s terrible.” Draco gives him a courtesy chuckle, then turns out the bedside lamp. “What time do you think you’ll be at the cottage?”

In the moonlight, Draco catches a twitch in Harry’s jaw muscle that wipes his schedule tomorrow clean. “Depends,” Harry mutters. “Whether she Avada Kedavra’s me immediately, or gets the whole family to join in.”

Draco’s smile is fake, but he tightens his lips to make his words come out convincingly. “So, six-ish, then?”

Harry’s face is placid, but he huffs a laugh. “Eight, at the latest.”

There are too many people here for a cancelled wedding. It’s standing room only on the south lawn of the Burrow.

The invitations said 11 AM, so Draco had shown up at 11:30. It couldn’t take more than a half hour for a crowd to clear out after Ginevra Weasley’s public embarrassment.

But there are hundreds of people.

Draco lingers at the edge of the field, where it meets the orchard. He can’t see anything in front of the crowd apart from a sliver of a rose-covered arch.

He stands on tip-toe to no avail, wishing he could elbow someone and casually ask, “Did Potter show up?” and then when they say he didn’t, Draco would reply, “Oh, you don’t say? And what’s that? He yelled that he’s bent as a tin nail and that he’s met the love of his life? Oh, how shocking!”

And then he would exit quietly, stealing himself a piece of cake on the way. No, two pieces of cake. And he’d meet Harry at the cottage, and they’d stay in bed and feed each other cake between goes.

But Draco can’t ask that, and he can’t see past the crowd or why they’re all still gathered. Maybe everyone is still waiting for Harry to show up. The Weasley groomsmen would be getting restless. Ginny’s bridesmaids would be cooing platitudes to her. Granger would be screaming into a Howler and sending it.

Draco bounces on his tip-toes, but still can’t see.

He glances around, into the orchard behind him. How fun would it be to wait for Harry’s ‘bent as a tin nail’ speech on the bough of a tree, then holler down at him while eating an apple? For the nostalgia.

Draco hoists himself onto a low branch, the bark rough against his wool trousers. The apples are still green, but he picks a large one and shines it on his shirt.

Just as he’s about to take a bite, he looks down, into the crowd.

Harry is on the dais. Not giving a speech.

He’s holding a ring. But only briefly. The ring slides home on Ginny’s finger, and Draco’s apple tumbles to the ground.

Draco stares, unbreathing, as Ginny accepts a ring from a frizzy-haired girl. His brain goes blanks as Ginny takes Harry’s hand, holding it between them, above her belly.

She’s pregnant.

Draco’s feet hit the ground, eyes shut, because he cannot, in his life, see another second of that. It’s like getting a lifetime dose of radiation. A single particle more, and it would mean his deathbed.

He has to force his eyes open as enters the orchard at a quick march. It’s as fast as he can walk without running, and he’ll be damned if Potter ever made him run from anything.

Harry God damned Potter. And his shit promises. And his flimsy lies.

Draco passes another tree with hard, green apples, and he rips one off, cracking the branch. He slows to a walk as the orchard gives way to the west lawn. A catering team is setting up a buffet under a tent.

Fuck Potter and his lies, and his wife, and his ugly fucking baby.

On his way past the steam trays, Draco casts a wandless Extinguo along the tray warmers. His shoes crunch against gravel. He avoids eye contact with all the people in aprons, his path a straight line toward the gate.

Fuck Potter and his whole fucking life, right down to the Draco-shaped hole in it.

The apple in his hand swings like the morningstar of a mace.

A levitating wedding cake rounds the bend. Lofty white icing. Five layers. One for every knuckle.

Draco rears back and punches the apple into the heart of the cake, leaves it there, and hopes it’s rotten.

#drarry #sad ending #implied infidelity #peculiar prompts #peculiar prompt

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dude-why-3 · 9 days

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Happiest of birthdays, @annawayne ♡

Thank you for existing, and always being so kind. May you have the happiest birthday of them all 🎉

This one is for you, especially. I hope you enjoy it :))

Under the Willow Tree, part three of the Star-Crossed Lovers Series

The boy wipes the sweat off his forehead, swipes blond locks of hair out of his face, the torrid sun burning his skin. He slams the scythe into the ground, takes a deep breath in before continuing with his work. Ever since his grandfather has fallen sick, he’s had to do all the work on the mayor’s land– the wretched man didn’t care who did it as long as they got it done and didn’t ask for anything more than he’d offer. Which was barely enough for the two of them to get by, but more than nothing. Any help was good enough, and maybe, with some luck, he’d afford to buy his grandfather’s medicine this month. Maybe he’d even afford a bucket of milk, he thinks. Maybe if he does some extra work around the mayor’s property, he’d agree to pay him a little more– his folks have been working for the man for decades already, he could spare them that much.

A sudden rustle snaps him out of his thoughts. Armin stops in his tracks, scythe frozen in hand. He listens cautiously, glances around, scanning his surroundings– the land lying before him endlessly, the tool he’s abandoned by his side, next to his discarded shirt, the dark forest standing tall to his side, the village buzzing by the feet of the valley.

For a second thinks it’s an animal, but then the sound of shoes against dirt makes him reconsider. He gazes at his bare dirty feet as he continues his work, dreading whatever interaction might follow. He can only hope it’s just a passerby.

That thought disappears when he hears a quiet, whispery voice calling his name. He doesn’t have to turn around to know it’s the mayor’s daughter, her voice is enough of a giveaway. A glance towards her is all the confirmation he needs, the sight of her leather shoes enough to give her away. He presses his lips together and keeps his head low, acknowledging her with a nod but not raising his eyes. Getting in trouble for even daring to be in her immediate proximity is not something he's willing to do today, or any other day, so he keeps doing his work, raising the scythe and slamming it back onto the ground, dragging it towards him.

The girl doesn’t move an inch, her eyes burning holes in the back of his head. Suddenly, Armin is very aware of his scrawny figure, unprotected by the shirt he's abandoned by the side of the property when the sun got too unbearable. But he tries to ignore it, minding his work, trying to ignore her gaze. But his ignorance seems to only make her gaze more intense, for she doesn’t budge, nor does she move, not giving any sign of leaving anytime soon. Eventually, he sighs, straightens his back, and raises his eyes to her level.

"Is there anything I could do to help you?" he inquiries, a slight notch of annoyance in his voice.

The girl doesn’t immediately answer, giving him time to observe her, his eyes glossing over her appearance. Her shoes are too spotless, her long white dress too clean for her to be standing there, the sleeves richly embroidered with red flowers. The same pattern adorns her waist, then the skirt flows all the way to her ankles, the hem adorned by the same red flowers. Her hair looks freshly washed, whereas his has been getting greasier by the day.

The blonde girl says nothing, her lips pressed together, her hands hidden behind her back. Her icy eyes pierce through him and he finds himself holding her glare for a brave moment.

Seeing how she wouldn’t spare him one word, Armin drops his gaze with a sigh and goes back to his work. Only when he raises the scythe above his head for a third time does the mayor's daughter speak.

"There is something you could help me with."

He slams his utensile into the ground again and, with a tired sigh, drops onto the floor himself, his legs too tired to keep him up straight. He takes a moment to catch his breath, then crosses his legs and raises his eyes to meet hers again, intrigued to find her frowning at him as if he were intimidating her. Armin raises an eyebrow.

"What can I do for you, Annie?" he asks, his voice softer when he speaks.

The girl opens and closes her mouth as if the words won’t come out. Armin tilts his head at her, looking her up and down quizzically. As if her presence here wasn’t weird enough, her behaviour is truly strange. What could it possibly be that she, the daughter of the richest man in the region, would need from a mere peasant like himself? And why can’t she just say it?

She raises on her toes then falls back on her heels, and takes a deep breath in.

"I need you to teach me how to dance," she eventually mumbles, looking away.

It takes a few seconds for the words to register. Armin blinks once, twice, looking at her quizzically. Her complexion grows pinker under her eyes, her frown deepening. A tiny smile creeps onto Armin’s lips– she’s the flustered one now. Oh how the roles reversed.

"I saw you at that wedding last week," Annie says quietly. "You danced all the folk dances as if they were in your blood. I want you to teach me how to do that."

Armin frowns slightly, recalling the event. It wasn’t that big of a deal. His neighbor married one of his daughters off to some lord on the other side of the river, one of the mayor’s close friends. His friends’ and his childhood friend, someone their age. The most they could do was send her off nicely, make her wedding night memorable. So, Eren, Mikasa and himself danced with her all night, and started most if not all dances. Most people joined in on their joy. Some clapped along to the music. Some simply watched.

"What's in for me?" he asks, amusement creeping into his voice.

Annie’s lips twitch up, as if she just regained control of the situation. She finally takes her arms out from behind her back and reveals the book she’s been hiding, holding it so he can see the cover, but not close enough for him to touch. His eyes widen at the sight, betraying his excitement. He quickly scans the cover, thick and pristine, and simple enough– a light brown cover, with golden edges and black letters spelling out its title in the middle, too small for him to read from afar.

"You get to read this," Annie says slowly, "but only when you're with me. You cannot take it home, and you cannot tell another soul about it."

Armin presses his lips together, his eyes transfixed on the book, hungry to hold it in his own hands. He's wanted to put his hands on one for so long, it almost feels surreal to have a book this close to his face. He considers her preposition for a long minute before saying, "I cannot teach you now. I'm supposed to be working."

"Well, you're not," she retorts. She crosses her arms over her chest and raises an eyebrow.

"Well, I should be."

"What about tonight then? Down to the river, after you're done with work," she suggests, as if she had all this planned.

Armin doesn’t hesitate when he agrees, earning a satisfied smile from the mayor’s daughter.

"Good luck with your work then," she says, turning around. "Don’t take too long."

And for the first time in a long time, Armin has something to look forward to.

#the star crossed lovers au #aruani #aruani fic #i know i said march and it is obviously not march. but it is here it is done it is all for you #thank you for existing really you're such a lovely lovely person

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whumping-valentine · 4 days

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🦌 Fawn and Hunter - Part 10 🦌

"Anaira"

Content: Conspiracies, noncon kissing, feisty whumpee (but if you made it all the way to part 10 you already know that lol)

1,800 Words

Hey hey, It's part 10! We're a whole 1/3 of the way done! Who's ready to meet a new character? 👀

This chapter is a big turning point for the series, which will be fully in swing by part 14! I had to fistfight my writer's block to finish this, pls appreciate my efforts 🙏

Also! I just wanted to let y'all know that Fawn's real name is revealed in this part, and while it may be traditionally masculine, they are still ambiguous and you can picture them as whatever you want. As a genderqueer person who's name is Lillian and doesn't want to change it, I'm all about erasing gendered names and turning them neutral. Just wanted to put that out there. Thanks!

Enjoy! 🦇

Going into town wasn’t something Hunter enjoyed doing. They hated being around other people, not to mention it was quite a long journey to get out of the woods. Their foot was pressed hard against the gas, the old truck’s engine roaring loud as it struggled to keep up. At least the sound somewhat distracted the thoughts in their head.

Hunter didn’t have much experience driving, and especially didn’t have a license, but they knew enough to get them by. Besides, their driving skills were the least of their worries, their heart still beating from the adrenaline of nearly being what they could only assume to be a cult sacrifice. They tried to shake the thoughts away, but something like that isn’t just easily forgotten.

The snow fell through the quickly darkening sky, hitting against the windshield, swirling around it, almost dizzying. A blur. A whirling whirlpool. Hunter pulled into the first parking lot they saw, a gas station.

Outside the building stood a group of Christians, holding signs as they yelled about the upcoming rapture, yelling at the air to repent before it was too late. Not an uncommon sight to see in a small town like this, but usually it was in front of certain buildings and protesting gay people, or something. Also it was usually much earlier in the day, not at the brink of dusk in the middle of winter so close to Christmas.

What on Earth was going on? Yelling about the upcoming rapture is usually something done by old folks on facebook, not in real life. Still, Hunter gave the group nothing more than that simple passing thought as they entered the decrepit store.

The floors were made of lazily placed tiles, some missing, or mismatched. The lighting was yellow, buzzing, and some even blinking, barely holding on. A moth flew around them, flapping its tiny wings while a cockroach skittered across the floor. A nacho station stood in the open. Ahh, yes, the best gas station nachos around. To eat those you’d have to have a death wish. The air smelt more of musty mold than it did nacho cheese.

Hunter turned their head to a corkboard full of posters. Missing people's posters that Hunter was no stranger to. They took their time reading them, until one in particular caught their eye. One with a photo of Fawn.

MISSING

Rudolph Meyer

DOB: December 18th, 2003

19 years old

Height 5 feet 3 inches

Light brown hair

Green eyes

Glasses

Freckles

Rudolph was reported missing October 12th, 2023 by their coworker after repeatedly failing to turn up for work or answer calls. They could have gone missing days or weeks prior.

If you have any details on Rudolph's whereabouts or disappearance please contact the Woodmar Police Department at 110-100-1000.

Hunter looked at Fawn's phone again. They did have many missed calls from the same number. They must've missed it when snooping through it. Though they also noticed they picked the perfect day to wander into town.

Today was their birthday.

Hunter smiled to themself as they looked at the date. Without a care in the world they took the poster from the wall and folded it up into their coat pocket. They took a quick look around the store, walking down aisles. Looking at the drinks, they took a moment of contemplation before taking a bottle of alcohol.

They noticed there was only one other person in the whole store. The only employee, a tired looking woman with dark circles under the eyes, wearing a face mask. Hunter approached her.

“Hey.” They said.

“Hello. Can I help you with anything?”

“If you can answer some questions, yeah. Do you know anything about that one missing person? Rudolph? They went missing rather recently, it seems.”

"Yeah, little Rudy, as I called them." She said, "I was the one who reported them. It was very unlike them to miss a shift, and not answer calls. I hope they're okay, I know they didn't come here from a very good place."

“Sorry to hear that. It’s pretty scary.”

"Oh, tell me about it. Scary, stressful, and saddening. I’ve been a mess ever since they disappeared. A mess with worry, overworking, I don’t think I’ve had a single peaceful day of sleep. Even worse because I'm on the night shift, and little Rudy was working daylight. It was really only us two keeping this place up and running. Our boss has had to fill in for them. Poor woman's already busy enough as it is. Oh, I’m so sorry, I’m venting.”

“Hey, I’m the one who asked.” They dismissed the apology with a shrug, “What about those crazies out front?"

"Oh, yeah, those guys have been there for a while. Ever since those crop circles were found last week, people have been going nuts. I've seen folks walking around with tinfoil hats." She laughed. "It's probably just something in the drinking water. Or maybe just the nature of humans. They lose it so easily."

“They’ve been preaching about the rapture all week?”

"Oh, they've been preaching about everything. The zombie apocalypse, an alien invasion, a plague, vampires, werewolves, demons, UFOs, government conspiracies, the second coming of Christ. It's like everyone's gone completely looney."

Hunter wanted to agree and dismiss it, but they could only think about everything else that happened. Fawn's dreams, that cult in the woods, the giant skeleton… were they going crazy, too?

"Cold gettin’ to you?" She asked.

“Yeah, I guess. I’ve had quite a day.” They sighed, looked around, and placed the bottle on the counter, “I’m just here for the drink, I guess.” They flashed their ID and paid.

“Thanks,” They said, and turned to leave.

“Oh, and, uh, hey!” She called out as the front doors dinged, “Um… Let me know if you find anything out about Rudy, will you?”

Hunter paused in the doorway, the cold wind whipping in past their face. They turned and said, “I’ll be sure to let you know.” then left.

When Hunter returned home, it was pitch dark outside, they were gone all day. There was a pile of dust in the snow on the front porch. Going inside, Fawn was curled up, asleep on the couch with the broom resting against the wall. They walked over to them, and nudged them awake, nudging their shoulder. Fawn slowly blinked their eyes open.

"So," Hunter said, "were you going to tell me today was your 20th birthday, Rudolph?"

The use of their real name made Fawn's heart drop into their stomach, jolting them wide awake. "How- how do you know that?"

"I just so happened to find this while out in town today." They said, showing off the poster. "It seems your coworker is pretty worried about you. Anaira, was it? Very nice lady."

Fawn could only stare up at the poster with wide eyes as Hunter smirked down at them. The use of Anaira's name just made their heart drop even more. They had a conversation? She had no idea she was talking to their captor…

"It's a good thing I've got this poster. Afterall, I need to start building up my collection again after you destroyed it."

“So you wanna kidnap more people? I ain’t enough? You want more after me? What're you gonna do with me then, huh? Kill me? Let me go?” They antagonized.

“I think you think too much. Don’t read into it.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Thanks! I don’t try to be liked. Especially not by people who act like bratty teenagers. Though I suppose it's no wonder why you do, you still are one!"

"Not anymore. I'm 20. I'm not a teen, I'm not a kid, and I'm not being a brat. Why would I be anything but cynical to the person who's holding me captive?"

Hunter ignored the last part, "It doesn't matter if you're 20 years old or 200 years old. Act like a teen and you might as well be one, eh?" They picked up on the fact Fawn did not appreciate being infantilized in the slightest.

"I am not that young." Fawn mumbled, bitterly.

"Well, you're certainly younger than I thought you were. Can't even drink yet, how cute is that? It's too bad we can’t share this.” Hunter said, holding up the bottle.

"Oh, great, now you can smell like cigarettes AND alcohol."

“Mmm, you’ll go nose blind, eventually. I go through a lot to steal these cigarettes, you know? Of course you don't, you're too good, despite being such an unruly badmouth."

“What the hell do you want from me? Stop mocking me. I cleaned your stupid fucking house, I should at least get a thank you but ohhhh, no, I probably don't even deserve that, right?”

“You want a thank you? I can give you a thank you.”

Alarm bells immediately started going off in Fawn's head. They way they said it and their tone didn't sound too nice, almost more of a threat. Much to their dismay and horror, Hunter kissed them on the lips.

Fawn froze up and their eyes widened, then squeezed shut as Hunter held the kiss. When they pulled away, Fawn scrunched their face in disgust, wiping their lips with the back of their hand.

"Oh, relax, it's just a kiss.”

“A gross and dirty kiss from your gross and dirty lips is what it was! What the fuck! Blahk!” They continued wiping their lips, which now tasted like cigarettes, shaking their head and shivering in disgust.

"You'll survive." Hunter said, dismissing their revulsion, "But as for me, I've had quite the unfortunate day, and I need my sleep."

"Oh no, I don't give a shit."

Hunter didn't respond, simply they just picked them up by the back of their shirt collar and pulled them through the cabin. Fawn cursed, kicked, and hit but it didn't do anything at all. They entered the bedroom and Hunter threw Fawn onto the floor, holding them down with a knee on their back as they tied their hands together.

"I'm going to sleep. You're going to lay on the floor and shut your mouth."

"Fuck you and fuck your—! Mmph!" Fawn spat, getting a cloth shoved into their mouth, with another being tied around their head to secure it.

"There. Now stay quiet." Hunter threatened, pushing Fawn's face into the floor as they stood up, hitting their nose off the hardwood. Fawn let out a growl in response.

HERE'S A THOUGHT! IF YOU WANT QUIET YOU CAN JUST LET ME GO! PEACE AND QUIET, ALL ALONE FOREVER, EVERYBODY WINS!! Fawn screamed in their head as they fought the restraints, mumbled nonsense coming from their mouth.

As Fawn calmed down and was left to their thoughts, they didn't care that they had to sleep on the floor. They didn't care that they were treated like a pet. They only cared about how everything they fought so hard for was ruined.

They were going to celebrate their 20th birthday as a way to say that they managed to survive so long. That they finally escaped their childhood home. Now they were here, held captive, and back where they started.

And to make it all worse, they would now have to forever remember that as their first kiss.

You'll be seeing a lot more of Anaira in the near future, as well as a few more new characters! Lemme tell you, once chapter 14 hits this'll be like a completely different thing than what it started as. Shit's about to get crazy and hit the fan.

Also, surprise! This part has art attached. I was originally not gonna give them designs, and just leave them to the interpretation of the reader, but I'm slowly becoming attached to them and couldn't help myself. I just had to draw them! You can still picture them however you want.

Also I'm curious how old you think Hunter is? 🤔 the answer may surprise you (and Fawn, too).

Taglist: @parasitebunny @whumpy-wyrms @fruitypinapple00

If you want added or removed, lmk in the comments !

Thanks for reading ! 💕🦌

#fawn and hunter #whump #whump blog #whump community #whumpblr #whump writing #my writing #whump series

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