#MY TYPE IS PEOPLE WHO KILL AND HATE MY GUTS | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nichuuu · 7 months

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Beats Me - 5: Tamed

(Ryujin & Yeji)

Being Yeji’s neighbour was more of a nightmare than you’d imagined.

Yes. The prospect of her threats of coming to your house and killing you becoming reality scared you shitless. You knew she meant every word she said. You did what you could to avoid her in your apartment complex, taking the stairs, making sure to leave the house slightly earlier so that you didn’t see her at the lift landing… But no matter what you did, avoiding her was one hell of a sisyphean task. She was just about everywhere. You bumped into her in the lobby, saw her in the nearby convenience store, crossed her at the laundry room…

It was like she was teleporting to your location each time you left your flat. It didn’t help that the two of you were perpetually on the same bus to campus each morning. She never really said much to you, opting to shoot you with her signature glare that never failed to scare you out of your skin. You wished you could just shrink away from her gaze sometimes, cower from those sharp feline-like eyes that bore into your soul each time you looked into them. She was terrifying to say the least.

“Sounds like a shitshow for you,” Ryujin mused, staring nonchalantly at the fry in her hand. You set down your drink.

“Calling it a shitshow would be an understatement,” you corrected. “It’s more of a… Fuck, I don’t know what it is.”

Ryujin chuckled and dipped her fry into her ketchup. “So tragic for you yet so entertaining for us…”

She popped the soggy fry into her mouth and leaned back in her seat. The beeping coming from the Mcdonalds kitchen was starting to irk you more than it should’ve in the given moment. Next to Ryujin, Kwon Eunbi sighed and took a sip of her drink.

“You ought to try and get friendly with her,” she advised. “If you don’t, it’s gonna be plain awkward. I for one don’t like the idea of being glared at on a daily basis…”

“How the hell do I even approach that woman?” You asked exasperatedly, “What do I say? Oh hey Yeji, I know you hate my guts and all but can we be chill?”

Putting her legs up on the table, Ryujin replied. “I think you could try that.”

“She would cut me in half just by looking at me,” you promptly shot back. Ryujin shrugged.

“You never know… Might be worth a shot.”

Eunbi sighed and folded her arms. “Sorry Myeong-seok… You’re kinda on your own for this.”

Your lips formed a thin line as you buried your face in your hands. “I know… It makes this whole thing suck a little more than it has to.”

Karina cleared her throat next to you. “You could uh… You know… Try saying hi to her when you see her around?”

“That sounds like suicide,” you told your pianist truthfully.

“Being a decent human being doesn’t mean you’re insane,” Karina told you.

“But this is Yeji we’re talking about here,” you reminded her, “I barely even open my mouth around her and she already wants to murder me! What will happen if I say hello?”

Jimin clicked her tongue and drew in a breath. She must’ve remembered that Yeji had an unexplained vendetta against you. You felt like it was due to the fact that you showed up late on your first day. Then again… Who stays mad at someone for that long? You didn’t know Yeji well enough to know if she was the type to hold grudges against people.

“I’ll try and talk to her one of these days,” Ryujin piped, “maybe I can find a way to get her to be less of a bitch around you, but you’ll eventually have to get around to talking to her you know?”

“ Yea… I do,” you told her. Trying to talk to Yeji wasn’t exactly on your bucket list, but you knew that you’d eventually have to try and sort things out with her if the band chemistry was to improve.

Eunbi’s phone started to ring. She picked it up off the table.

“I gotta take this. If you guys have to leave, go ahead,” she told you guys. She stood up and hurriedly walked out of the Mcdonalds. You took a look at your watch and noted that it was getting pretty late.

“I think I’m gonna make a move,” you told your band members, “see you guys.”

They all waved to you as you gathered your things. You waved goodbye to Eunbi on the way out, but she was too absorbed in her phone call to see you. You decided not to disturb her and set off to the nearest bus stop. A couple minutes of waiting and a rather unpleasant ride home later, you found yourself walking down the usual path you took to get home. As you set down the footpath, thunder rumbled off in the distance. You quickened your pace, hoping to get home before the sky opened up above you.

The gate to the lobby was in sight, the faint warm glow from the lights within the apartment complex illuminating the small space before the door like a fireplace would on a cold winter night. The light was always rather comforting to you, it symbolised security and respite from a long day.

“Hehe… Eat up little fella…”

Though you were just metres away from the door, the voice that travelled from your left made you halt in your tracks. There was a soft meow, followed by an even softer giggle.

“There you go… You better lick this bowl clean.”

You refused to believe your ears. But when you turned to the source of the voice, your eyes only served to prove what your ears had made you conclude.

The voice you heard was indeed Hwang Yeji’s. It sounded foreign at first, but then you realised it was because it had taken on a softer, warmer tone. Your guitarist was squatting before a metal bowl, a rare trace of a smile on her face as she watched a cat eat cat food out of the metal bowl before her. She giggled again, a little louder this time.

“You look terribly skinny,” she muttered, tilting her head as she examined the cat closely. “You don’t have a collar… You must be a stray then…”

She gingerly stretched out a hand towards the cat. It had dark brown fur, patches of white spotting its body. Her fingers gently rested themselves atop the cat’s head, her knuckles curling and uncurling as she softly scratched the top of its head. You could only stare in shock and awe as you took in this gentler side of Yeji. You’d never thought it’d be possible for her to display affection towards anything or anyone.

You must’ve stood there longer than you should’ve, for Yeji sensed someone’s gaze on her and whipped her head towards you. Her eyes locked with yours. For a moment, you swore you saw shock behind her eyes, then curiosity… And then they reverted back to their usual coldness.

“Fuck are you looking at Squeaker?” she spat.

You snapped out of your trance. “O-Oh… I-I was just… Walking home…”

“Then keep walking home. Don’t bother me,” she replied, fixing you with her usual piercing glare. She turned back to the cat, clicking her tongue in annoyance as she continued to watch it eat. You took that as your cue to leave her with her feline friend and continued to walk back towards the gate of your apartment complex.

“Myeong-seok!”

You turned back to see Hwang Yeju waving frantically as she ran towards you. In her arm, she cradled a loaf of bread and a six pack of beer. You could also make out a tray of eggs and a pack of sausages. The items looked like they were bound to fall at any second.

“M-Ms Hwang! Be careful!” You cautioned her, brisk walking towards Yeji’s sister. To your amazement, she was able to keep all the items within the cradle of her arm and stopped right before you.

“Hello!” She greeted you bubbly, “did you just come back from school?”

“Y-Yea…” you answered. You pointed to the groceries in her hands. “Do you need me to take some of those?”

You didn’t expect her to thrust all of her groceries into your arms.

“Thanks! You’re really sweet!” Yeju beamed, “by the way, thanks for lending us salt yesterday. I think the cooking would’ve been a disaster without it!”

You didn’t know how this woman had this much energy this late in the night. Your best guess was that it was simply just her personality. Furthermore, this was her third time thanking you for letting her borrow salt. It weirded you out a little, but you figured that it was simply her nature.

“N-No problem Ms Hwang,” you assured her.

“We’ve been through this. Just call me Yeju!” she reminded you.

“R-Right… S-Sorry Yeju…”

The older girl smiled, radiating a glow brighter than the street lights. Yeji emerged from the alley.

“Unnie, let’s go,” she said.

“Aww come on Yeji, at least talk to your neighbour for a bit!” Yeju argued. Yeji fixed her elder sister with a glare.

“I would rather shove a burning hot pan up my ass,” she grunted, “let’s just go.”

Yeji walked past you. She tapped her card against the reader in the gate. “I’m not waiting for you!”

“Come back here Yeji!” Yeju called. Unfortunately, Yeji had already disappeared into the lobby. With a heavy sigh, Hwang Yeju dug for her keys in her pocket.

“She’s a lot more cranky these days… Can’t put my finger on it,” she muttered, “sorry for my sister’s behaviour… She’s a little… You know…”

You waved it off.

“I understand,” you assured the older girl. She seemed relieved.

“Great. Let’s go inside before it starts pouring.”

The two of you entered the lobby. She asked you about your day, how things were going—The usual friendly neighbour stuff. You rode the lift together with Yeji’s older sister, carrying her groceries all the way to her apartment door where she finally took them back from you. With a friendly wave and a chirpy goodbye!, she entered her apartment and left you out in the hallway. You slotted your hands into the pockets of your jeans. “What an interesting woman…”

You headed back to your own apartment just down the hall.

For the rest of the week, you didn’t see much of Yeju, but the frequency at which you bumped into Yeji seemed to increase. The campus cafeteria—once a haven where you were certain that you would not see Yeji—had become a meeting ground for the two of you. You’d bump into her as she was getting food or travelling to her next classroom, even spotting her from the corner of your eye while you ate your lunch. She was icy as always, her signature look of disdain glued onto her face with super glue, silently berating you as you scuttled by.

And then there was the cat. It appeared that Yeji would always come down at night to feed the stray in the alley near the complex, whispering to it in a hushed, tender tone. She’d be in the same spot, same position—Squatted just a few metres away from the alley entrance. You made the mistake of stopping and staring the first few times, but soon learnt to keep walking on without looking at her.

That night as the rain lashed your umbrella and the wind howled incessantly, you walked down the familiar stretch of pavement. Band practice had ended and you’d turned down Eunbi’s offer for dinner to catch up on some work. The concrete was slick with rain water, the warm glow of streetlights reflected in the stream of water that flowed down the pavement. It was chilly. Not winter chilly, but the type of cold that was unpleasant enough to make you want to huddle up at home with a nice hot drink—That type of chilly. The rain was merciless, fat droplets pelting your face as a gust of wind blew what felt like an ocean’s worth of water towards you. In hindsight, you realised that you may have been better off going to dinner with your singer. That way, you could at least wait out the rain before heading home.

You walked by the convenience store. The lobby was just a few metres away now.

“Here… This should keep you warm.”

Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t have stopped to look at Yeji. But under the assault of the storm, you couldn’t help but stop and turn to see if that truly was her talking to her feline friend in this weather.

Sure enough, she was there. In a black raincoat with her hood up, you could make out the smiling features of Hwang Yeji as she slid something into a cardboard box. The box was beneath what looked like a small makeshift shelter, made from sticks and a plastic bag. It kept the rain from attacking the cardboard beneath it, sheltering its occupant from the storm. Yeji reached in and adjusted something, her mouth moving as she whispered something to the cat. You knew that it was in your best interest to set off by now, but you found yourself walking towards your guitarist.

“There… That should do it,” she said. She’d wrapped a blanket around the cat, swaddling the shivering animal in warmth. Yeji folded the flaps of the box—by just a little—shielding her companion from the rain while giving it ample air to breathe. You stopped behind her, holding your umbrella out slightly such that it shielded the both of you from the rain. You knew that she could sense your presence from the way her shoulders tensed.

“What did I say about bothering me?” she asked.

“W-Well… You’d catch a cold if I just left you alone…”

She turned to look at you. You could only see one of her eyes under the hood of her raincoat.

Yeji pitched the wet raincoat. “Don’t you see I have this on?”

“I-I know. But the rain’s p-pretty heavy… You could catch a cold from this.”

Yeji clicked her tongue in annoyance. “What do you take me for? Some girl who’s weak and helpless?”

“N-No! I-I just…”

“Then why the fuck bother with me? Do you want something out of me?” Yeji retorted, rising from her position to look you in the eye.

The air that already felt dense because of the rain somehow grew denser. Yeji fixed you with one of her usual nasty glares. You felt something bubbling inside you—A balloon of frustration slowly growing and expanding, increasing in volume as it slowly rose up from your core to your throat. The fact that she’d taken your act of kindness for an act driven by the desire to achieve something didn’t sit well with you.

“I… I just wanted to help,” you told her sincerely.

“I don’t need your help. Go away.”

The balloon burst.

“I don’t get it Yeji,” you began, unable to withhold the frustration from flooding your voice, “from day one, you’ve been at my throat, hounding and threatening me with snarky remarks. I don’t know if you only act this way towards me, but it’s seriously putting me off. I don’t know what I did to piss you off so much, nor do I understand how I’ve been able to piss you off to the extent that you literally despise me. Please, explain it to me.”

Yeji glared silently. Then she squatted back down and faced the cat.

“It’s… Not your fault.”

Your grip on your umbrella—that you didn't know had tightened—relaxed a little. “H-Huh?”

Yeji drew in a breath. “Go away.”

The roar of pattering raindrops on your umbrella seemed to go silent.

“W-Wait… What do you mean—”

“Go away or I’ll scream.”

You stood there for a moment. Then you slowly turned and retreated from your guitarist, leaving her vulnerable to the onslaught of water droplets from the sky once more. As you stood in the elevator, your mind seemed to be incapable of handling the creation of a mere string of thought. Yeji’s ambiguous line impacted you more than it should’ve.

No work was done that night. Instead, you stared blankly at the login screen to your laptop, your fingers frozen on the keyboard. The cup of tea you’d made had gone cold long ago, the condensation on the inner walls of the cup flowing into the liquid and diluting it.

Why is this affecting me so much? I’m not even that close to her…

You could figure out why Yeji’s statement screwed with you the way it did. However, an hour’s worth of thinking made you realise that it was the desire to receive her acceptance that drove you to care about this more than you should. You frustratedly smacked your forehead with your palm repeatedly, loud smacks carrying your confusement and frustration throughout your apartment.

“Fuck. This band is messing me up…” you sighed. You took a sip of your lukewarm tea and cringed at its unnatural taste. It seems as though the tea was affected by your mood too. You felt the urge to talk to someone about what had happened, and when it came to Yeji, there was only one person that came to mind.

From Shin Ryujin’s end, you could distinctly hear the sound of her cracking open a beer as you finished the last bit of your recount.

“Hm…” your bassist mumbled, “I wonder what that could mean…”

You leaned back in your own chair and sighed. “This is bothering me more than it should. Is that weird? Am I weird?”

“Relax man. I think it’s just your nature,” she assured you, “don’t stress over this stuff, it’s alright to care sometimes.”

She belched loudly. You hurried to move the phone away from your ear.

“That’s fucking disgusting,” you muttered.

“Fuck you sideways Squeaker,” Ryujin retorted. She always had a thing for firing back with remarks that were beyond human imagination. “Anyway, thanks for telling me this. I’ll see if I can try to talk to her sister about it. Maybe she knows a thing or two.”

“Y-Yea… Maybe she does,” you echoed, “do you need help arranging a meeting? I can always just go down the hall and ask…”

“Shit. You live down the hall from Yeji?”

“Unfortunately. She moved in last week.”

There was a brief pause from Ryujin’s end.

“Go get a six pack of beer for me,” she instructed, “I think I’m gonna be paying a house-warming visit.”

She followed you home from school the next night and retrieved the beer from your place. To your surprise, she’d actually bought a house warming gift for the Hwang’s.

“The beer is simply a formality,” she told you, slinging the tote bag that contained her gift for the Hwangs over her shoulder. “It’s simply the warmer of souls, the pleaser of—”

“Just take the fucking beer and get out,” you told her. She grinned like a cheshire cat, satisfied that she’d managed to annoy you for the day. She went over to the Hwang residence without another word. You were relatively productive that night, burning through a decent amount of readings and completing two of the assignments that were due the next week.

And then at 11pm, there was a knock on your door. You were lazing on your beanbag by then, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram and liking random images of capybaras.

“Coming,” you muttered lazily. You rose and shuffled to the door. Two unexpected guests stood before you when you pulled the door open.

“Hello!” Ryujin beamed. Next to her, Yeji grumbled something incoherent.

“W-What the…” you stammered. You were more shocked by Yeji’s presence than anything.

“Yeju wasn’t home,” Ryujin explained, waltzing into your apartment, “Yeji opened the door, I entered, cracked open a few beers, Yeji tried to chase me out, I pulled her out together with me, Yeji forgot her keys, here we are!”

The list of occurrences that tumbled from Ryujin’s mouth was nothing far from confusing.

“I’m going to wait in front of my door,” Yeji muttered.

As the guitarist turned, Ryujin quickly strode over and grabbed her by the arm. “Nuh-uh.”

She dragged Yeji into your apartment and closed the door with her leg. “Let’s spend the time here! It’s so nice in Squeaker’s place!”

“She’s drunk,” Yeji told you.

“Not drunk! Tipsy!” Ryujin corrected, “if I were drunk, I would be slurring my sentences, but I’m not! Take that bitch!”

Yeji rolled her eyes. “This is ridiculous. I’m leaving.”

Ryujin blocked the door with her body.

“You ain’t going nowhere kitty,” Ryujin smiled.

“Ryujin. Move,” Yeji growled.

“Or what? What are you gonna do Yeji?”

Yeji sighed and tried to push your bassist aside. With surprising agility, Ryujin grabbed Yeji’s wrist, pinning it against the wall in a swift movement.

“W-What the hell! Let me go!” Yeji demanded. Ryujin grinned.

“Nah-ah,” she replied.

Yeji futilely attempted to wrest herself from Ryujin’s grip. The bassist stayed smirking, catching her friend’s hand as she tried to push her away—Yeji’s other hand was pinned against the wall.

“Relax kitty,” Ryujin whispered to her, “you’re being a very bad girl.”

“R-Ryujin! Don’t you dare!” Yeji warned. The panic was apparent in her voice.

That was the first…

Ryujin's smirk seemed to get even more smug . “Why not? We’ve done it before haven’t we?”

“T-That was a one off! I-I was drunk!” Yeji reasoned.

Ryujin silenced her with a finger on her lips. “You enjoyed it last time, didn’t you?”

“R-Ryujin… Please…” Yeji pleaded, “n-not here…”

Ryujin casted a glance in your direction.

“Why? You afraid Squeaker’s gonna let the whole world know about this?” she questioned Yeji.

“Ryujin…” Yeji tried.

When Ryujin shoved her knee in between Yeji’s legs, you knew that Yeji’s fate was sealed. You had no idea that Shin Ryujin of all people would be able to tame someone as fierce as Yej—Yet there she was, making the impossible possible.

“Anything else before we go on?” Ryujin questioned. Yeji opened her mouth, then she closed it.

Yeji shook her head. Ryujin beamed.

“Neat,” your bassist mused, “we’ll have a fun time tonight.”

She was quick to drag Yeji over to the beanbag you were on just minutes ago. Then—rather boldly—Ryujin gripped Yeji’s T-shirt and ripped it right off her.

“H-Hey!” Yeji cried, arms shooting across her chest to cover her vulnerable areas. “H-He’s right there!”

“Oh relax, will you?” Ryujin scoffed, “he’s respectful. Isn’t that right Squeaky?”

You flashed an awkward smile. You hoped that Yeji couldn’t see the tent in your pyjama pants.

“Come over here and help me,” Ryujin requested.

“I-I… I really don’t think I should,” you reasoned, “I-I don’t think she wants me to touch her…”

“Does that really matter right now?” Ryujin rebutted.

When you continued to stand there awkwardly, Ryujin rolled her eyes. “Ugh… No fun.”

She tugged Yeji’s shorts down, letting them fall and pool around her ankles. Yeji quickly moved and covered up her private parts. She looked rather uncomfortable.

“Ryujin,” you cautioned your bassist, “I-I don’t think we should—”

“I don’t need you being a wet blanket right now,” she chided, “if you aren’t joining, just sit out and watch.”

Every fibre of your body was urging you to just walk over right there and then. However, your conscience told you that doing so wouldn’t be wise. When Ryujin saw that you still remained in your spot, she scoffed. “Lame…”

She pushed Yeji down onto the beanbag. Yeji yelped as she fell into it, a gasp quickly following up as Ryujin fell atop of her. Ryujin manoeuvred around Yeji’s body to remove the bra from her body. She succeeded and threw it away. In a flash, Ryujin herself was topless, her clothes adding on to the growing pile next to the beanbag. Her lips found Yeji’s, a sloppy makeout session ensuing.

Ryuin continued to assert her dominance over Yeji. Her right hand slowly made its way downward, until it reached the waistband of the simple, white panties Yeji wore. Spending not more than a second or two there, she reached further. The tips of her slim fingers quested below the thin cotton. When they reached a certain point, the gasps and soft sounds escaping Yeji’s lips cleared for a full moan of pleasure as Ryujin’s fingertips finally reached her most intimate parts. The moment that moan left Yeji’s mouth, you could see the smirk on Ryujin’s face grow wider. It was like she’d found a treasure.

From then, Ryujin refused to cease her assault on the guitarist’s body. Her left hand slid down the waistband of Yeji’s panties until the thin, tiny slip of fabric was halfway down the guitarist’s hips, giving her more than enough access to Yeji’s slick heat. You watched as Ryujin’s middle finger disappeared between Yeji’s legs. The rest of her hand covered your view—But the look on Yeji’s pleasure-stricken face told you all you needed to know regarding what that middle finger was doing.

“Look how fucking hot she is,” Ryujin said, her words dripping with lust, “she’s so fucking wet.”

Yehi let her loudest moan yet escape her lips. The sudden thrust and twist of Ryujin’s wrist tells you that she had penetrated the other girl with her fingers. Yeji’s legs close around her friend’s hand.

“Fuck… Just as tight as the last time,” Ryujin smirked.

You found yourself squirming in place as your shaft continued to strain painfully against your pants.

“I think you’ll like fucking her,” Ryujin stated, her voice taking on a softer tone, “She’ll be tight and wet for you… I bet you’d cum so quickly… A fucking shame that you’re choosing to miss out on this.”

Ryujin’s ring finger slipped between Yeji’s legs. You knew full well it had joined her middle finger inside Yeji’s body. Yeji’s legs seemed to have turned to jelly. Ryujin’s body covers Yeji’s bare skin, so you let your gaze roam up Ryujin’s toned back. And there, just to the left of Ryujin’s well shaped shoulders, you saw a pink nub rise and fall with each of Yeji’s laboured breaths.

Pink nipples—Yeji had pink nipples.

Yeji’s features—Usually fierce and full of anger—were twisted, wracked and contorted—Pleasure and lust coursed through her system, making her squirm beneath her friend. Her eyes, half-lidded with pleasure, stared up at the ceiling. Her mouth formed a perfect “O” as wordless sounds of pleasure left her lips.

“So tight… And she’s fucking drenched… Little slut,” Ryujin hissed.

It all quickly becomes too much for the guitarist to handle. The pleasure of it all… It threatened to overwhelm her senses.

“Ryujin, I… Ryujin—” Yeji said quickly, as though she was barely able to form the words, “I’m going to…”

“You like being fingered? You like how I mess up your insides, don’t you Yeji?”

The guitarist’s only response was a long, passionate moan. She was suddenly unable to form words with her mouth. Every sound that escaped her was a moan of pleasure or a noise of the sort. It was like her brain had shut off, the pleasure in her system pushing the ability to think right out of her being.

“Do you like my fingers? Do you like getting finger fucked Yeji?”

Yeji squirmed. Her eyes shut as she moaned softly. It was like she was suddenly ashamed of how quickly and completely she had allowed Yeji to dominate her body and manipulate it to her liking. Ryujin moved her left hand to cup Yeji’s left breast, the index finger and thumb capturing her exposed, hardened nipple and giving it a soft squeeze.

“Fucking cum Yeji.”

On cue, Yeji let out a scream. Her legs spasmed as an orgasm wracked her body. For several long seconds, Yeji writhes in pleasure beneath the bassist. Ryujin turned and smiled devilishly at you. It was as if she was asking you whether you liked the little show she had just given you. She rose, leaving Yeji’s sweaty, heaving body on your bean bag as she strutted over.

“I feel generous tonight,” she told you. Her hand grips your chin, tearing your gaze away from the guitarist before you can even take in her body.

“Your table should hold my weight, right?” she asked. You nodded numbly. Wordlessly, she saunters over and clears a space for her to sit. Swiftly, she undid the belt that held up her baggy jeans, letting the denim fall off her slender legs. Her panties were off even quicker.

You smiled devilishly as you undid your own pants and took your cock in one hand. You approached Ryujin, placing your shaft on Ryujin’s wanton pussy and dragging the head up and down her moist, dripping lips.

Ryujin licked her lips. “She’s watching. Let’s give her a show, shall we?”

Grasping Ryujin’s legs, you raised them so that her calves were on your shoulders. Reaching down and placing your tip at her opening, you slowly pushed inside her. Entering Ryujin elicited a deep, lustful moan from her. You hear a soft set of footsteps approaching from behind. Yeji walked up next to the two of you. She knelt down, eyes glued on your cock that was buried inside her friend.

“T-Tell me how he feels,” Yeji requested.

“Fuck…” Ryujin gasped, unable to answer as you filled her completely. Your hips now touch her soaked, hot crotch as you bottomed out inside her heat. She savoured the feeling of being filled by you once more.

“He’s so big, Yeji,” Ryujin hissed, not taking her eyes away from yours, “he’s so big and thick and he’s fucking stretching me out… I think—”

Her moan cuts through her sentence. You’d cut short Ryujin’s descriptions as you began to move. Slowly, you drew your cock out from her tightly gripping pussy for the first time, savouring the feel of her lips wrapped tightly around your hard shaft as it tried to pull you back into her. You heard Yeji gasp at the sight of your cock drenched in slick, thick pussy juices.

You drove back into Ryujin. Before long, you’ve settled into a slow but steady rhythm. You took your time, letting Yeji have a long glimpse of your cock as it appeared from between Ryujin’s glistening pussy before disappearing once more into the girl’s tight body. Ryujin was quickly reduced to a quivering, moaning mess as you fucked her. Gone was the girl that dominated Yeji just minutes before.

Her hands gripped the edge of your table with knuckle white grips, her mind and body relishing every thrust you made into her body. Words, cusses, moans… They spilled freely from her lips.

“Oh, fuck! Fuck me just like that… Fuck me slow… Make me… Feel… Every inch of you! He’s so big, Yeji! He feels so fucking good inside me!”

You tore your gaze from Ryuin’s writhing body. Yeji had begun to work her hand between her milky legs, her left hand clutching her right breast. You watched eagerly as she captured the pinkness of her nipples between her index and middle finger, delivering a small amount of pressure to the perky nubs.

With a foreign tone of lust, she drawled. “Fuck her… Fuck her harder…”

You grinned as the girl finally give into her desires. Her pleasure must’ve been heightened as she watched the erotic scene play out in front of her. You grasped Ryujin’s thighs and speared yourself deeper and deeper into the girl, using her long limbs as leverage to make each thrust harder than the last.

For long minutes, you fucked her like that. Her toned, slim body rocked back and forth helplessly on the table, her round breasts bouncing wantonly with each impact of your hips into her hot body..

“Oh, fuck! Yes! Fuck me harder… As hard as you want! O-Oh! Fuck YES!”

Ryujin is more than happy to let you have your way with her body. You knew from all the time you’d spent with her that she was more than comfortable with rough sex. Unreserved, you let loose and began o truly fuck her the way she wanted, the way she yearned, the way she loved to be fucked.

Pounded. That was it—Shin Ryujin loved getting pounded.

You let her legs fall from your shoulders. You spread her thighs, a palm on each one before forcing her onto her left side. Keeping her right leg in the air, you continued to fuck her, giving Yeji the perfect view of your cock as it slid in and out of her friend’s pussy.

The new position drives Ryujin mad. Your first few thrusts into her wet, tight pussy were your indication. Her moans and gasps continued, higher in pitch and louder in volume as you drove deeper and faster into her pussy. The wet, slick sounds of her juices and the wet flesh around your cock reverberates through the apartment as you continued to fuck the mewling, moaning girl. Between her splayed lips, you could feel the heat radiating from her core surrounding your shaft.

“Oh god, Yeji he’s… he’s so big inside me. He’s fucking me so good!”

“How… how does your pussy f-feel, Ryujin?”

“It feels… So good… So full of his cock… M-Mmmmph… I’m so fucking wet! I'm gonna... I'm gonna...”

It was all quickly becoming too much to handle—Watching Yeji be used and Yeji watching you use her friend. Your own peak was rapidly approaching.

“Fuck… I’m gonna cum soon.”

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop fucking me!” Ryujin cried. “Mmmm, I’m getting close!”

“I… I’m cumming!” you heard. The voice was not from Ryuin, but from Yeji. The guitarist was a squirming mess on her knees, her body wracked with spasms as she orgasmed. You tore your gaze from Ryujin to watch as Yeji quivered and shook in her place, her hand working busily between her thighs as the rest of her body straightened involuntarily in pleasure.

“Ohh.. oh, I’m cumming!” Ryujin exclaimed. She took your attention back once again. Her pussy pulsated, squeezing you tightly—The signal of her impending orgasm.

“Where—”

“Inside me!” she answered, cutting you off, “inside me, please! Fill me… Fill me with your cum!”

She came first. The tightening of her spasming pussy around your shaft quickly drove you to orgasm as well. Burying yourself as deep as you can within her hot, slick pussy, you erupted.

Your cock sent stream after stream of thick, hot semen into her body. She tightened around you, squeezing your cock tightly and milking you of every drop. You let yourself savour every second of it, the feel of Ryujin’s body wrapped around you, the feel of her wet walls being painted with cum, the sound of her and Yeji’s moans filling your ears. You were certain that this was paradise.

You stood there exhausted. Soon you finally slipped out of her body with a slick pop. Ryujin turned onto her back, too exhausted to do anything further. White, thick liquid oozes between the splayed lips of her freshly fucked pussy, before a thick stream began to flow from her body onto her flushed thighs and your table.

“Oh fuck…” Ryujin heaved, “that… That was fucking hot…”

She let her legs dangle off the table, keeping them spread as she looked over to her friend on her knees. “Come here and clean me up Yeji.”

The girl eagerly rose from her knees and knelt back down in front of Ryujin’s still spread legs. She doesn’t waste any time, diving in and licking the thick white cum that flowed from your bassist’s pussy like it was a delicacy. Ryujin hummed softly, basking in the pleasure at the feel of Yeji’s tongue attacking her still sensitive lips. When Ryujin had enough, she pushed Yeji’s head away. You swore you saw a hint of disappointment on Yeji’s face.

She slid off the desk. You caught her, holding her steady as she found her footing on her jelly-like legs.

“Shit… I need to sleep,” she muttered, “Squeaker, carry me to your bed, will you?”

You complied. You laid her down on your mattress as gingerly as you could, making sure to pull the covers over her nude body. Then, you went over to your cupboard and pulled out a shirt.

“Where… Are you going?” Ryujin asked as you were about to head out.

“I’m just passing this to Yeji,” you told her, “she’ll need this.”

Ryujin hummed and turned on her side. “Sleep next to me when you come back.”

You walked out. Yeji had put her bra and shorts back on and was gathering what was left of her shirt.

“H-Hey,” you called. You walked over and handed the shirt to her. “You’ll need to cover up. H-Have this.”

Yeji stared at the shirt for a moment. It was one of those old anime shirts you picked up from the thrift store. It would definitely be baggy on Yeji’s small frame, but it was all you could really offer her.

You thought that she’d smack your hand away and tell you to fuck off or something. To your surprise—and some delight—she gingerly took the shirt from you. Wordlessly, she slipped it on.

“Thanks,” she voiced, “I’ll go now.”

You walked her to the door and opened it for her. “I-Is Yeju back to open the door?”

“S-She should be,” Yeji replied.

“R-Right then… H-Have a good night,” you wished her. She looked at you for a moment. You were certain she was going to call you a slur.

“G-Good night,” she wished back, “I-I’ll see you tomorrow for practice...”

Yeji hugged herself and hurried down the hall. You figured that the embarrassment had made her act like this. Tomorrow, she’d go back to cussing you out like a sailor.

You returned to your room after locking up. Ryujin had fallen fast asleep by then, snoring rather loudly as you silently slipped into the space next to her.

***

“You think she’ll be awkward when she sees us?” Ryujin asked as the two of you got off the bus.

“She’ll be fine with you, but she’s gonna kill me,” you muttered.

Ryujin cackled. “Ah… So this whole thing is no longer my problem!”

You shot her a glare.

“You were the one that initiated things. It still is your problem,” you told her.

“Hey. You both enjoyed it didn’t you?” she smirked.

“That doesn’t negate the fact that you started the whole thing!” you argued.

“What are you guys getting so heated over?”

You turned. Kim Chaewon gazed at the both of you, a blank expression on her face.

“Oh. Hey Chaewon,” Ryujin waved, “we were just having friendly banter. We aren’t gonna kill each other if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Chaewon gazed intently at Ryujin for a moment, then transferred her gaze back to you. “So I was that forgettable huh?”

You blinked. “W-What?”

“You’ve already moved on, haven’t you?” Chaewon questioned, “getting yourself involved in a band with a bunch of girls like I was never important. You’re fucking disgusting.”

Chaewon shoulder-checked you as she walked past, making sure to let her trumpet case strike your shin as well. You winced, a sharp pain shooting up your leg.

“Fuck,” you hissed. Ryujin quickly held onto you.

“That girl is psycho,” she told you.

“Bratty is a better word,” you replied, “please don’t tell me she’s gonna join the band…”

Ryujin pursed her lips. “Well… Judging from the fact that she has her trumpet case with her on a Friday—I’d say that Eunbi managed to get through to her.”

“Christ on a fucking pike,” you sighed, “Yeji was enough for me to handle already…”

The pain was slowly fading now. You tapped Ryujin’s shoulder. “I think I can walk this off,”

Your bassist let go of you, letting you walk forward on your own for a bit before jogging up to you.

“Chin up Squeaker,” she assured you, “I’m sure that there’s a way to achieve peace in our band.”

You sure as hell hoped so. If not—you were in for one hell of a ride.

#smut #shin ryujin #hwang yeji #ryujin smut #itzy smut #yeji smut #ryeji #ryeji smut

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borzoilover69 · 1 year

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ULTIMATE JAKE: an idea and an execution

iA I Aka the post where borzoi talks to the crowd how awesome Lord Jake English is, the guy that everyones seen around, but have no idea who he is. Pull up a chair, this will get long.

If Ultimate Dirk can be summarised by the mask of tragedy in theatre, LE Jake, AKA Ultimate Jake, could be summarised by the mask of comedy. I’ve barely read HS2, but from what I can see, Dirk wants to make a serious nitty gritty tragedy of serious and epic proportions. But he tries so hard that he ends up making it almost laughable.

Jake wants to make a thighslapper huckshaw comedy where everyones having a grand old time but there is such deep and hollow tragedy hidden within the folds of all those pretty smiles.

If anything they abide a lot by aristotles theory on comedy and tragedy. While tragedy imitates men better than average, comedy parodies those who are worse.

Aristotle stated that those of a more serious type that may have once been inclined to celebrate the actions of great heroes in poetry and prose turn to tragedy, while those who’ve been dishonourable, humbled, turn to comedy. It comes down to duality, tragedy viewing duality as a fatal contradiction forever a fault in things, while comedy views it as natural, but something that everyone must live with the best they can, enjoy. Do you see where I’m going here? Dirk, who praised Aristotle and read the epics turned to tragedy. Jake, dishonourable and hiding from those who he care about, turning to comedy. They line up well with the cognitive psychology of the tragedy and comedy visions, which you should totally look into when you can.

Tragedy is idealistic, stubborn and serious. They long for something higher and greater than common existence. They value heroism, hierarchy, and finality.

Comedy is pragmatic, adaptable, and playful. They consider the self, comfortable in their own skin. They’re anti-heroes, valuing situation-based ethics and reversal.

With that out of the way, lets keep to philosophy like it’s a boat in the atlantic. If Dirks look in life upon going ult is one of pessimistic realism, Jake is an absurdist.

If life is a cruel joke to jake, and it has been, then in his ultimate form hes acknowledged it, and given the cruel void, hes decided to seek out his own meaning. And it just so happens to be his best friend.

Misc details

- Capitalist

- He wears old 3D movie glasses because he’s that idiot.

- He collects a lot of things. He has plenty of things hes shot killed and stuffed in his collection.

You could say he’s rather past oriented, taking care to document it all out of interest and perhaps a subconcious pursuit to figure out the future.

- Very apathetic. He may be charming, but he’s still a jackass. He thinks existence itself is funny, he’s an absurdist; but he’s also a guy who realises he’s been kicked to the curb too many times and started shooting people. - His crew consists of John/June, (in place of rose. They have a lot of movie nights!), Karkat, and one (1) dead dave.

And finally some thoughts about ult Dirkjake: Maybe Dirk wants Jake to just kill him. It’s a game of cat and mouse, and perhaps it’s love for someone who deems himself unworthy, no, incapable of doing so. What better love than to kill someone? To trust and know they will kill you. Feeling safe in the knowledge they’ve known you in every universe and are here to kill you. Not that Jake would let him. I like them.. I think it’s my fave brand of dirkjake besides the original.. they’re dysfunctional, intolerable, and they hate each other, but it’s just interesting. For better or for worse, they’re stuck, and they’re not afraid of the fact they suck. If anything, it’d spur them to be worse.

“Oh yeah. I find the other guy fucking annoying and I’d gladly take a moment to rip his guts out and walk him around a tree until they’re all out and he's calling me every bad name he can think of, but if anyone tries doing this shit with him without my consent, I’m going to be hells of more pissed off.”

Look. It’s funny in the way that realistically, they could probably do a lot of damage to everyone else but due to the fact they know the other guy exists, they’re too busy trying to kick the others ankles out and then beating each other up to become dangerous.

Oh you bet your nanny it’s the gayest most fucked up kismesis known to man. Ultimate Dirk hates LE Jake, because he doesn’t give a damn. Because Jake makes him feel things he denies feeling. And that ridiculously, somewhere in paradox space, Jake went ultimate and decided he was going to man up and pursue Dirk to the ends of the universe. Ultimately: “My soul is bound to you in explicable ways. Our bonds cross the multiverse and wherever you are, somewhere I am by your side. Even in a hundred universes, maybe even a million. I will still find you.”

Perhaps the greatest thing and a closing note is that given they are the ascended versions of themselves, they’re aware of the fact that they’re aware of every time the other guy screwed them over, kicked them in the balls, etc. But they’re also able to see everything else. So what’s with a little hatelove eh?

#homestuck meta #dirkjake #ultimate dirk #ultimate jake #homestuck #ultimate rose: ive seen the light and you two either need to get laid or die #jake english #dirk strider #a lot of philosophy/#borzoi talks #borzoi meta

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igotanidea · 10 months

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Let's fuck up the friendship : J.T x fem!reader

how cute is that picture? UwU

request by @parkjammys (once again, thank you for making my day by posting pics of Outlaws!Jason today)

based on the prompt: "sometimes i look at people and think.. really? that’s the sperm that won?” With best friend Jason feeling really jealous seeing his best friend that he has a major crush on, talk to some guy (guy is Kyle Rayner) and he's mumbling "he's not even her type"

***

„Why is he here again?” Jason scoffed, carefully observing his best friend Y/N, talking to that stupid prick of a green lantern, Kyle Rayner.

“Dunno.” Dick, still in his Nightwing suit shrugged casually, while stuffing his mouth with cereals ‘probably something to do with the newest mission on Earth or something like that.”

“It doesn’t bother you at all?” Jason hissed, involuntarily clenching his fist. “that he just drops by whenever he wants?”

“No, not really.” Dick swallowed particularly huge piece of his meal and focused on his brother’s face. “does it bother you?”

It wasn’t a secret that Jason and Kyle weren’t exactly friends, but the former never reacted with such…. intensity. All right, most of the times the green lantern showed himself around Jason was throwing offences left and right, showing his teeth and acting like he was marking territory. Kyle, however did exactly the same thing. It was sort of tradition at this point. But all that teasing, fake fighting and extreme emotions never escalated so quickly to the point where Jason was all red (and not because of the helmet or the gear), grinding his teeth and subconsciously reaching for his gun while his eyes were fixed on one place in space. Or rather, one person.

Y/N.

She was talking to Kyle, laughing at whatever he just said, her eyes sparkling, looking happy like never before. And what was even worse she just hit his chest playfully. SHE TOUCHED HIM for fuck’s sake and that fucker really seemed to enjoy that. On the other side, Jay did not like it at all. How could he? He had a massive crush on her since he could remember and yet, despite all his cool demeanor, harsh behavior and bad boy outlook, he was too self-conscious to ever confront her about it. Stupid, longing idiot, afraid of his own feelings. To tell the truth, he himself wasn’t sure if he was more afraid of the possibility of her pushing him away or rather the fact that by some miracle she might want him. He was not good in relationships, any of them, and that made his mind create crazy scenarios in which she was hurt or killed or sad or crying because of him.

But sure as hell he was not going to let Rayner get to her first!

She was just …. something different.

The girl who knew what she wanted and wouldn’t settle for anything else. The girl who would stand by you, listening to every rant and problem you may have, but also the one who would turn and run the second she got vulnerable. It was so damn hard, to get her to open up, since on 9 out of 10 cases she would just jump into helping someone else or dig into work.

And she was his best friend.

What kind of fool falls for his best friend?

It was stupid and childish and naïve and yet, all he wanted and needed was to just approach her that very second, interrupt her happy conversation and use one sentence that would either make her hate him and disappear for good or get them both to a whole new level of relationship.

“Let’s fuck up the friendship.” God, how he wished he had the guts to just get it out of his system.

Instead he settled on watching her from the distance, not rushing to make a fool out of himself in front of both Dickhead and that freaking Rayner.

“Jace?” Dick interrupted his train of thought, smirking under his nose.

“What?!”

“Is this about her?”

“What? NO. Fuck no. She’s just my friend. My best friend.”

“Yeah, right, friends don’t look at friends that way.”

“Whatever!” Jason scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest sulking for a moment and sighing deeply. ‘I hate the way she’s smiling at him.” He mumbled “and she’s not even trying to hide it….” He pouted like a completely immature 5 year old.

“She’s an astrophysicist, Jason.” Dick patted his arm reassuringly “ You can’t blame her for being enthralled by all that crazy space-shit stuff he’s saying.”

“I don’t blame her.” Jason hissed “I blame him, you know? Do you ever just look at people and think: really? That’s the sperm that won?”

“No…..” Dick made a face in confusion. Damn it, if that were the thoughts coming into Jason’s mindthan it really was bad.

“Well, I do. And he’s the living proof of that.”

“Jason…..”

“He’s not even her type…” Todd muttered under his breath.

“And what exactly is her type?” Dick smirked again “Tall, dark haired, well-build douche? If you care about her …..”

“I don’t fucking care about her!” he yelled.

Too loud.

Whoopsy.

Not a chance she didn’t hear that, and the sudden outburst made her turn her head towards him. Shit, if he was red before, now he was simply crimson. Jason found himself between the devil and the deep blue see. Should he clear this little misunderstanding? Should he come clean? Or should he just run away leaving the ground burning?

“Jace?” she stuttered, her eyes growing wide, while Kyle took the chance and wrapped and arm around her shoulders protectively to give her some grounding “Is this about me?”

“Good luck, clearing that out, Jaybrid” Dick laughed, but hid it by pretending to sneeze.

“Shut up, Grayson!” Jason hissed through clenched teeth and slowly approached the girl and Kyle. “It was not about you. It was about some girl Grayson met and about whom he couldn’t shut up. You are my best friend, you know it, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, right, best friend’ she mumbled looking down, moving slightly closer to Rayner and away from Jason. Oh, that was like a slap on the cheek. Like a sting right through his heart. Like a….

Was it disappointment in her eyes?

No, it couldn’t be…. Why would she be disappointed?

“Anyway, if you don’t mind, Rayner” Jason used the unimaginable amount of power to control himself “I would love to rescue my best friend from your hand. I bet whatever you say about space must be out of this world, but there are people who actually need her on Earth. On daily basis. Not just while dropping from time to time and leaving her hanging.”

“Oh, Todd.” Kyle cooed “aren’t you just so cute while trying to act like a knight in shining armor. But guess what, she doesn’t need your protection.”

“Right. The only one who’s going to need protection is you. From me.” Jason leaned forward eyeing the other boy with predatory gaze ‘I know what you are plotting, Rayner. And if you think I’m going to let you use her….”

“Is someone jealous?” Kyle scoffed “cause sure it seems you treat me like a threat.”

“Why don’t we take it outside so I can show you how much I am not scared of you. Maybe this time you will deal with someone equal to you rather than seducing girls with your fake charm!” Jason jumped to his feet, Kyle following right after and the tension was so palpable that most likely they wouldn’t even wait to go outside, just beat the shit of each other right inside.

“ENOUGH!” sudden scream coming from Y/N made them both gasp in surprise. Neither Jason nor Kyle has even seen her this angry. She was practically fuming and it was terrifying to see this normally calm, communicative and focused-on-peaceful-solutions-to-problems girl in such state. And it was them who pushed her to this point. She was not a meta or any other kind of superhero but at that moment she held the power of the hurricane and was about to throw it at them.

Shit.

“Y/N…” Jason raised his hands and tried to calm her down.

“Shut up, Jason!”

“ You heard the girl, shut up, Jason” Kyle laughed viciously

“THE SAME GOES FOR YOU RAYNER!”

“I’m sorry….” He whimpered and it was Jason’s turn to laugh.

“I am TIRED of being your toy. Exhausted to be precise. I’ve been making doe eyes at you, Todd for months now. Doe eyes that you chose to ignore every. single. fucking. time. And yet, the moment I move on from this silly, stupid, fucking, one-sided crush you decide to step it and ruin everything. Just because you wanted to? Just because you what? You get jealous now? Fuck, Jason, do you really think you can just do whatever you want, whenever you want, not caring about the others? Not caring what I have to say? Oh, hell no. You don’t hold such power over me. Not anymore.”

“Y/N….” Jason took a step forward, but she jumped away, almost like he was a disease she didn’t want to catch.

“Get away from me!” she hissed “We were just talking, you idiot! I was being nice, not that you know what it means! I’m done with both of you!”

“Wait, what did I do?” Kyle asked, now a bit confused

“Oh, nothing, sweetie.” Y/N mocked “just telling me the shit of improbable stories to make Jason angry while watching me laugh with you. Yeah, I noticed that.” She cut Jason off the moment he opened his mouth to say a thing in his defense “Well, genius, I was laughing at you, wondering when will you finally realize that I did my research and don’t believe a word you say. Are you familiar with the word sarcasm?”

“Haha! Burn!” Jason couldn’t help but let out a laugh

“And you, Todd, should learn the meaning of the word honest. You are both losers. I want nothing to do with you. I’m out.”

And so she left. The only sound they heard after that was slamming of the door to her room. She had one at the Manor since her expert knowledge was sometimes needed and she was helping the bats while patrolling at night.

And then chewing on the cereals.

“Well that was quite the show….”

“SHUT UP GRAYSON!”

***

“Y/N? Please, open the door. I just wanna talk.” Jason was knocking at her door for like 10 minutes now and yet, she didn’t bother answering and he started losing all hope. Did he fuck up? Was all the chances he had with her gone just because he was a stupid idiot In love and therefore acting like crazy?

“She’s not there, you know.” Tim emerged from his room, bothered by all the knocking and begging.

“What? then where is she?”

“Hm…. Not sure if I should tell you after everything that just went down…..”

“How do you….? Fuck, whatever. I swear if you don’t tell me where she hid I would burn all the coffee shops in the tristate area!”

“I equipped them all with the fireproof furniture and equipment a while ago. Had a feeling that sooner or later you will threaten me with the lack of coffee….Listen to me carefully, replacement…” Jason took a step forward, towering over Tim’s figure but before he could take any action, another voice joined the conversation.

“Boys. Why do you always have to act like savages? Y/N escaped to the roof. Guess she was in need of some air after that little outburst.”

“Thanks, Steph.”

“Always a pleasure. “ she winked “Oh, and Todd? Make sure to fix it. I really don’t like this Rayner guy, either.”

***

“Was it Steph? I know it was her.” Jason could only do as much as step into the rooftop when Y/N felt his presence. Apparently the time with bats sharpened her senses.

“Y/n. I just want to talk.”

“Ok. Sit. Talk. I’m listening.” She patted the spot next to her and Jason took it without any hesitation. She was willing to listen, maybe not everything was lost.

“I’m sorry” he sighed deeply and that made her turn her head and look straight into his eyes just to confirm if he actually did say the words she heard coming from him

“Wow! That would be the first time I ever heard you say a thing like that!” she laughed

“I mean it. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was playing around with you or anything like this. It’s just…. just…..”

“What, Jace? Come on, just say it. Just be honest with me. I won’t laugh or judge you, I promise.”

“I had a crush on you.”

“Had?”

“All right, I still do!” he threw his hands in the air “Are you trying to humiliate me now?”

“For how long?” she asked looking at the space in front of her, not meeting his eyes and missing the fact that he was eyeing her with love sick puppy eyes, begging whatever deity was there that she would let him love her. Despite everything. He would put all the work in proving to her that he could be better. For her. For them. And if that required honesty – so be it.

“A year.” He muttered, almost inaudibly.

“A year?!” she cried “seriously, Jason! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“How was I supposed to tell you?! I didn’t know if you were feeling the same way! I couldn’t risk scaring you off. I couldn’t risk…. Losing you. ”

“You didn’t notice all those times when I was making a fool out of myself just to get your attention? I mean really, doe eyes?”

“I’m…. I’m not good with all that flirting and teasing and relationship stuff. I … I don’t recognize it well. Besides, you are my best friend and ….”

“And what?” she moved her whole body, so now she was not only facing him, but her whole figure was turned towards him “Just say it. Please.” She begged, looking straight into his eyes, not faltering for even a second. “Say it, cause I don’t think I can.”

“I wanna fuck up the friendship.” He gasped, not really believing the words coming out of his mouth. But once he started he just couldn’t stop the flow “I want to love you. I want to have you to myself. I want to be yours. I want to be able to hold you, touch you, kiss you. I don’t want to be just friends anymore. I want to make you mine. If you let a fool like me…..“

“And it’s not just because of Kyle?”

“Fuck no! I don’t give a single damn about him! I care about you, Y/N. In a more-than-friends way. I’m done pretending. ” he whispered looking down, his cheeks a bit reddened. Not a long though since she cupped his cheek and made him look at her. “Please, be mine”he whimpered

“Jason, can you promise me you won’t act like a male ego embodied again?”

“I can’t.” he shook his head in resignation “I can’t cause I care too much and can’t help getting possessive sometimes and…..” She didn’t let him finish leaning forward and pressing her lips to his. This took him a bit by surprise, since he thought she was going to ditch him for not being able to promise her what she needed. And instead, she was kissing him?

Damn it, not just kissing, that was clearly an understatement. She was laying all her love on him. Those sweet, soft lips he was dreaming about for so long were on his, brushing over his gently and yet with so much passion he was practically melting. He wanted more and yet, all that tenderness and intimacy of sharing first kiss in the privacy of nighted rooftop was something to enjoy rather than to destroy by any urgency.

And so, even if still confused, he followed her lead, choosing delicacy and softness. Maybe it was what they both needed and enough to get him high and drunk on the feeling of her. He could feel her with every cell in his body. Her touches, her smell, her affection for him. All of it combined.

He barely held back a whine when she pulled back.

“Does this mean you forgive me?” he whispered, his hands aching to touch her and hold her to his chest, but holding back because he needed her direct answer. “For acting like a dumbass?”

“You had me at I wanna fuck up the friendship” she laughed lightly, changing position and settling between his legs, not fighting or running away.

“You have no idea how long I wanted to say it.” He answered, wrapping arms around her waist, pulling her closer and kissing her neck softly, inhaling the fresh scent of her shampoo “So long, baby… so fucking long…..”

“Glad you choose the moment when I was forgiving and merciful” she chuckled “’because you know, it could have backfired on you.”

“But you’re not leaving?” his grip on her tightened in a sudden fright this was all just a crazy dream and in a minute he would wake up in his own bed, alone and cold, still yearning for her, none of those words from before said in real life.

“No.” she put her soft hands on his biceps, caressing his skin and all those scars reassuringly “I made up my mind, Jason. It’s you. It’s always been you. I’m done pretending too.“ she turned her head and hid face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling her nose over his skin. “I love you.”

In the darkness of the roof, with almost no stars on the sky and with her eyes closed, she didn’t notice few tears that gathered in Jason’s eyes and flowing down his cheeks.

He had her.

He finally had her.

And he was not going to let go.

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victimsofyaoipoll · 7 months

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Semifinals

Sakura Haruno

Her husband is gay and her author doesn't know how to write women. So many people say she's the worst but she. DESERVES. BETTER!!! Save her from this franchise.

My baby girl my bestie my best friend. She committed the crime of um being written by kishimoto who both doesn’t know how to write women and somehow writes men in the gayest way possible specifically naruto and sasuke. Like the thing is naruto and sasuke ARE gay and also she gets so much hate for the crime of kishimoto writing her one dimensionally in love with sasuke. I know her personally she is a butch lesbian to me just trust me she’s in love with Ino and has a lesbian thing going on with Karin okay just trust me. My everything. She needs to divorce the loveless lavender marriage she’s in

What is there to say, even? The OG Threat to my 90s anime brain, the only woman I've ever hated with such a passion she made me turn away from the color pink. I used to write fics with my friend where she got left behind on purpose so our OCs could join the Naruto and Sasuke team instead. I loathed this bitch until I was 16 and realized the author simply couldnt write women and decided it was time to make peace with Sakura. It is not her fault she's vaguely written and obsessive over Sasuke. She deserves better. Sasuke and Naruto still should be together and Sakura shouldnt be with Sasuke but I no longer believe this because I hate Sakura, it is because I love her. She deserves a spouse who will actually put in the time to treat her like the hero she is.

Casca

She is part of a weird fucked up love triangle with two dudes. All three of them are honestly kind of terrible for each other but she gets shoved aside in favor of the two dudes in most fics and is not allowed to grow past the toxic relationships of her past. Also she’s a cis woman who dresses pretty masculinely (because she’s in a mercenary band) so she gets type casted as the mean lesbian friend, when she’s straight in canon

I've seen more than one Yaoi Shipper say that Casca should have died during this one big canon event as opposed to being assaulted by one of the people in the Yaoi Ship, which of course conveniently would remove her from the narrative and as an obstacle to said Yaoi Ship. Aside from that specifically, though, I think it's particularly cruel to imply that being killed is a better outcome than being a victim of SA, and is an example of the contempt fandom on the whole has for female characters who act traumatized - particularly when both male characters in the ship have similar trauma and its never implied they should have died rather than be assaulted.

She's an incredibly interesting character in her own right with really good dynamics and parallels to Griffith and Guts, and the way those three play off of each other is integral to the story, but most of what I've seen completely ignores her in favor of focusing on only Griffith and Guts

#poll #round 5 #sakura haruno #naruto #casca berserk #casca #berserk

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klarolinexluv · 4 months

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Y’all I had another fanfic idea.

Jegulus acquaintances (like oh yeah he exists type shit)

to enemies (regulus is a death eater, James is in the order. But it’s like proper enemies. Regulus has it out for James and James kinda just likes the attention but doesn’t know why)

to hate fuckers (where Regulus has James pinned to the wall of an alleyway at wand point where James went to apparate away. He doesn’t get to obviously and James just smiles and flirts and riles Regulus up so much that he just snaps and kisses the ever loving shit out of James. They don’t fuck here, no no, Regulus runs away and leaves James with a lot to think about. The hate fucking comes a lot later when the two find themselves locked in a duel. They are probably in the middle of the woods somewhere and their back up is no where in sight. Regulus eventually finds himself pressed against a tree, his wand held at James throat ready to use it, but James just smiles and leans closer to whisper in his ear, “I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” And if that doesn’t send Regulus spiralling… anyway so they kiss again and this the hate fucking begins.)

to “I still hate you but I don’t” (sort of push and pull. They keep ‘accidentally’ being in the same place at the same time. In public, Regulus hates James’ guts, he is also in denial and so far gone for James but James is in a similar position, he hates that Regulus is a death eater but gods if Regulus isn’t the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on…)

to reluctant friends who fuck (after Regulus discovers Voldemorts secret. The horcruxes and is so disgusted not only with Voldemort but also himself that he seeks out James willingly. Sending him an owl to meet and if he doesn’t come alone Regulus will do indescribable things to the people he cares about. So James goes and finds Regulus pacing manically and James does what he does best and helps him calm down. Regulus doesn’t want to talk about it, not yet but he has realised that James isn’t so bad and then they fuck because Regulus is only a man.)

to “I would kill for you” “I’d let you” (Its a war, James morally grey is my love idc. James would just tell Regulus that there is a spy in the order and Regulus would say that and James would be like, “yeah okay, fair enough, do it.” So not only does Regulus have his super secret mission about finding these fucking horcruxes without Voldemort knowing, he also has to find and kill the spy - which he is all too happy to do. He also doesn’t question why he feels so strongly about keeping James safe and still remains in denial.)

to “I’d do anything for you” (they’d do anything for the other. James is sort of pulling away from the order because he misses Regulus so much and just can’t do the slipping away and the excuses and hiding things from his parents, his best friends, etc etc. He just wants Regulus, so he ends up buying an apartment that his friends don’t know about and asks Regulus to move in with him. Regulus says yes, for some reason that he doesn’t name but he does because he can’t stand to be in his mothers presence ((she’s probably going insane or something???)) so Regulus reasons that he said yes because he wants away from her but “not because I like James”.)

to lovers (where James just says I love you one day, sending Regulus into a crisis and a little panic when he all of a sudden names that feeling that he feels for James which is most definitely love. So he fucks James about it because “how dare you make me love you” and James just ahhhh he melts because angry Regulus who loves him??? Ahhh yes.)

Anyway, at some point Regulus would tell James about the horcruxes and how he has been hunting them and James helps him. James would drop all contact with his friends and family and just throw himself completely into loving Regulus (which is has come to realise he is insane about. Like he would also kill for Regulus.) he wouldn’t take the mark just because I think that’s a line he wouldn’t cross (or he could take it for Regulus because he is possessive and wants to share how crazy he is for him. Regulus ofc is the very same. Slightly more insane and Voldemort would live for it. Regulus and James, his right hand men. Bellatrix and other high ranking death eaters are like soooo jealous but Jegulus is untouchable basically.)

So yeah, James would take the mark for Regulus and they’d be the worst of the worst together all while tearing apart Voldemort’s empire from the inside.

They’d kill the death eaters off bit by bit. Dwindling their numbers but Voldemort already has the ministry under his control so he isn’t at all worried.

They also find all the horcruxes together, using the invisibility cloak when necessary. And destroy all of them.

That’s when he becomes worried.

The inner circle has a meeting. Regulus and James didn’t kill off any of the members apart of it. However, this particular meeting is being held at Grimmauld Place, unaware of the wards protecting Regulus and James (because Regulus added him to the protection wards whilst also removing everyone else so it’s just the two of them).

It’s at this meeting that Regulus and James reveal what they did. And they formally duel Voldemort. The rest of the death eaters stay out of it because their master told them to (much to Bella’s annoyance) and eventually, Regulus or James casts the final spell and kill the dark lord. Then ofc they kill of the inner circle. Bathing themselves in blood because who doesn’t love a bloody Jegulus.

Anyway, the two take Tom Riddles corpse and apparate to Potter Manor. Now since James is still the heir, they get past the wards.

“I’m home!” James would shout, walking into the living room finding his parents, wolfstar, pandamarylily, dorlene, with their wands out ready to defend themselves. That is until Regulus drops the dead body in the middle of the room.

Chaos, immediately. James and Regulus look at eachother and Regulus just laughs hysterically while James looks at Regulus like he wants to devour him.

So he does, once Regulus finishes laughing, the make out right over the corpse whilst people around them panic.

Regulus then takes James and they disappear into the night, never to be heard from again (or are they??)

So yeah, Dark Jegulus AU, enemies to lovers.

Yay I have another WIP ☹️✌️

#regulus black #marauders #james potter #jegulus #sirius black #starchaser #sunseeker #black brothers #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #dark jegulus #dark regulus black #dark james potter #both of them are insane but they’re in love

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coentinim · 2 months

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Kai's manipulation techniques up until he got addicted to meth and started hating women big time. These are also all cult leader strategies in general so good job on research to the writers of the season!

This is strictly for educational purposes! Watch out for those behaviors in ANY group. Cults are dangerous and don't have to be religious at all. Stay safe and avoid groups and people displaying even the tiniest bit of those behaviors! Trust your gut and don't disclose personal info to strangers! <3

Cult trchniques obvi, mentions of suicide, mind control, killing, spoilers obvi

@fear-is-truth this is the most I could come up with rn, the brainworms are all-consuming!

So, how does Kai control people?

- Observing someone and analysing their deepest insecurities, then promising to erase/fulfill them (most visible with Meadow)

- Forcing his followers to partake in crime together and not hide their identities from one another to create additional fear of going out of the group - they will be found guilty by the authorities

- Using people's sexuality against them (Meadow, Bob, Ivy, Winter, Harrison...)

- Constantly speaking about and hyping up an agenda, a movement, a change... but never saying what it involves. His cult is focused on recruiting people who can benefit his rise to power and feed his ego. He doesn't have any agenda except for personal gain but people believe he brings some great change.

- The fearmongering. It does require media and an extensive wave of concerning shit happening, but he did achieve this. Especially insidious technique to watch out for irl.

- One-on-one meetings with the members, the "pinky power". It's supposed to seem silly, unserious, but it makes him hold incredible power over them. The eye contact, the physical contact, the demanding tone and the isolation from others and their own self.

- He uses the BITE model of authoritarian control, a type of cult mind control tactic categorized by Steven Hassan (his book is an incredible read btw!). So basically behavior, information, thought and emotion control. Kai started using this mostly after recruiting his boycult.

- Mock executions - first with Meadow, this is how he convinced her to commit suicide for him. Then, he made his men drink the kool aid to "strengthen their bond" and weed out disloyalty.

- Torture - this one doesn't work, obvi, but it did work temporarily on Beverley (putting her in isolation she described as a "dark hole"). We all know how this ended though, so it wasn't rly that successful?

And more. But it's all I can think of off the top of my head.

- Physical and verbal violence against members that makes them want to get on his better side and gets them to work twice as hard.

- Putting people against one another!

#do not think about doing this shit to other people im so fucking serious rn #another episode of me adding long ass disclaimers because i have ocd #not tagging as cults since there are actual cult survivors there #ahs cult #american horror story #american horror story cult #ahs #kai anderson

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crownmemes · 6 months

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Criminal Sentences, Vol. 8

(Sentences from various sources for criminals and/or dangerous muses. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"If you want to kill someone, just choose your victims carefully."

"Have I pissed you off in a way that's more than normal?"

"I find a dash of danger titillating."

"I sincerely hope you are not suggesting that I have something to do with this."

"I never fathomed a moment would come when I would need to end your life."

"All I did was what no one else had the guts to do!"

"How many peoeple have you killed?"

"I'm the one that kept you alive!"

"What are you going to do? Shoot me?"

"What do you know about fair or right? You're a coward."

"I want you to do me a favour. It's not negotiable. Either you do it or I kill you. You understand?"

"You've become awfully trusting for a man wanted by the FBI."

"He would make a lovely corpse."

"How long are you going to refuse to trust me?"

"So, do you want in on this opportunity or not?"

"We're all capable of evil."

"You question my sincerity. You think I'm heartless."

"I don't care what you do, or who you do, or who you have to grease - I need that information, and I need it now. Are we clear on that?"

"You didn't strike me as the serial killer type."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Have you forgotten how this works between us?"

"You can corrupt men, but you cannot corrupt innocence."

"You may want to leave the room. What I'm doing isn't exactly legal."

"So I'm the bad guy because I'm trying to do what's right?"

"You can't hurt a man when he's got nothing left."

"You're going to Hell, just like I am."

"Would it soften your opinion of me if I confessed that I've always had a particular affection for you?"

"I don't get any satisfaction from seeing you hurt."

"I've endured my hatred than you'll ever know. My enemies are legion."

"He can't tell you anything if he's dead."

"I have seen my share of the hideous, of the disgusting, and the repellent, but you are the most perfect expression I will ever see of all that is vile and hateful in life."

"You can kill a man but you can't kill what he stands for... Not unless you first break his spirit."

"I took care of it myself. I can do that, you know."

"You want to see me snap?"

"I've destroyed a lot of things in my life, including the people most precious to me."

"I killed him, and I would do it again."

#rp meme #rp memes #roleplay meme #roleplay memes #rp prompts #roleplay prompts #sentence starters #assorted;#criminal;

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eddiessluttywaist · 1 year

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as if (part 4 based on angst ending)

AGELESS/BLANK/UNDER 18 BLOGS ARE NOT WELCOME TO INTERACT. PLEASE RESPECT MY RULES AND BOUNDARIES

summary: continuation of the angst ending of as if, moves away from how eddie has been acting just so you know 👀

pairing: ex-bully!mean!perv!soft!eddie munson x fem reader

word count: 10,964 words

content/warnings: swearing, mentions of smutty content MDNI (y/n is 18/19), bully!eddie, mean!eddie, perv!eddie, brief threats and violence, rejection, angsttt, depression, very brief mention of unhealthy eating habits, heartbreak, yearning, anxiety, arguing, crying, near death experience, regret, isolation and loneliness. i think that’s all pls tell me if i miss anything!

a/n: i’m sorry this took me so long skbvdjkk enjoy the suffering. credit to whoever owns/posted that picture ^ it’s not mine :)

part one - part two - start of part three - angst ending to part three

Eddie Munson is an asshole.

He’s a cruel heartbreaker, that’s for sure. He’s selfish. He’s mean. He’s smug. He’s ruined love for you.

As much as that sentiment reeked of teenage melodrama, it’s still true. He’s ruined mean guys for you cause you know what to expect from them, and he’s ruined sweet guys for you cause you know better than to know what to expect. Eddie is someone who finds a way to be so sweet and charming for that subtle kind of control, just to turn out to be an asshole through and through. Every nicety and moment of tenderness was only to keep you on the hook for a good fuck; and if things hadn’t spiraled into an apocalyptic shitshow, he would’ve been the one and only reason for your aching misery.

He’s a lot of things. You could go through a list of adjectives that would make your mother gasp and cross herself.

He’s a life ruiner in so many ways—but he isn’t a killer.

Despite how he treated you, you liked to think you still had a good sense of his heart—even if he refused to give it to you the way you would’ve so readily given him yours. He’s smug and rotten, but murder is not something he’s capable of. Some violence? Probably. Maybe. Given the right circumstances. But he wouldn’t kill someone. So you were one of the few who weren’t surprised when news came out that he wasn’t to blame for everything that happened. Sure, there were still plenty of kooks who remained certain that he used his “ties with Satan” to open up a portal to Hell, but as more and more came out about that lab near the quarry—the rarer those types became.

By now nearly everyone’s forgotten about him, or at least that’s how it felt to you. No one talked about him—they didn’t even seem to think about him—but not you. Despite everything, his memory seemed to live on in your head. On repeat some days.

Just to clarify: he didn’t die. His memory didn’t need to be kept alive because he wasn’t—he was pretty damn close when he was found (at least from what you’ve heard), but he wasn’t dead. However, that didn’t change the fact that the people of Hawkins liked to act like he was. He was nowhere to be found for starters, and everyone left in town seemed to appreciate things that way so they didn’t have to address him.

The turnaround was baffling to you. How his name never even came up, and when it did people grew uncomfortable and tried to turn the conversation elsewhere. Even you—someone who decidedly hated his guts months before the day Chrissy Cunningham was found dead—thought he deserved something better than becoming a banned topic after what this town put him through.

You could remember the day he appeared on the news like it was yesterday.

You had been curled up on one corner of the couch of the living room, your mother on the other end, and your father in his La-Z-Boy. It was pitch black in the room with the only light source being the colorful and fuzzy glow of the television. It was unfortunately your mom’s night to watch her program so of course you and your dad were already half asleep by the time her show was suddenly interrupted.

“What the-!” your mom had gasped. “I wanna know what happens! Oh those darn news… people…”

She had trailed off as the reality of the emergency newscast sunk in, no longer reaching for the remote but settling back into her spot instead.

You didn’t really know Chrissy. She was popular and well-loved, and had hundreds of friends. You definitely weren’t one of them, though. Whether it was secretly too beneath her deep down in her innocent demeanor, or if you simply weren’t interested in gravitating around her enough for her to truly take notice of you. She was a sweet girl though. She was a senior like you and the few times you two interacted, she was nothing but kind. And even if she hadn’t been, she still wouldn’t have deserved what happened to her.

You remember your mother nervously toying that necklace she always wore as she watched the news with big eyes. The way your dad sat up more and gave the screen his full attention. The tension and anxiety that made the air in the living room feel heavy; and when you thought your throat couldn’t get any drier and your heart couldn’t race any faster—Eddie’s picture was plastered on the television.

You remember the way your hearing seemed to turn into a faint buzz as the newscaster spoke of the victim’s body being found in his trailer.

“I always knew that boy was trouble.” your dad grumbled out, and you had to fight the urge to huff out a laugh and tell him he had no idea.

Neither of them knew what happened between you two or that there was even a “you two” to begin with. And you certainly wouldn’t have said anything that night because then they’d know in the worst way possible. Admitting it back then at the start of Spring Break would’ve been admitting how deeply you had fallen for someone who was possibly wanted for murder.

Even if it was never explicitly stated that Eddie Munson had shattered your heart (when you were completely falling apart just a couple months before your hometown did the same) your mom had been quick to notice something was wrong. Motherly instincts or something like that—or, y’know, just the fact that you were visibly a mess.

Even at that start of it all you didn’t want to talk about that one particularly miserable day. You would wait until it was late at night to cry into your pillow. You had briefly lost some weight since the whole situation had left you with a solid knot in your stomach, leaving you horribly nauseous and deadening your appetite. The fact that you were constantly lying about being sick to avoid school was what truly confirmed your mom’s concerns.

Sure, you could’ve had a stomach bug. Maybe that’s why you had been picking at your food at dinner. Maybe that’s why you looked so pale and tired all the time. But then throughout the school week you would keep saying you were sick, and with the state you were in she didn’t have the heart to tell you your temperature was perfectly normal. Besides, you never skipped so she wasn’t all that suspicious at first so she let you stay home. You kept lying, though, and she finally felt she had to ask if something was going on at school.

You remember that time when boy problems still mattered so vividly. When Eddie Munson was still a mentionable name, even if you didn’t act like it. When your mom was checking in on you because of him and because her main concern was still little nuances in your behavior.

“Is something going on at school?” your mom had murmured softly as she sat on the edge of your bed.

It was nighttime and the only light in your room was the faint and warm glow of your bedside table, giving a false sense of comfort to the room that was filled with memories of him. Some spots of your room still smelled like him—especially by the window where he would sneak in, and sit on to smoke. It felt like cold spots in a haunted house to you.

“Is someone not treating you right?”

“No, mom, really. I just don’t feel well.” you murmured, and she can’t help but notice how dry your lips look. That little scab where you had been anxiously biting and picking at the skin there—a bad habit that only ever flared up when you were distraught, even as a child. You certainly looked ill, but her instincts were pointing elsewhere. She insisted you drink some of the water on your bedside table before she continued.

“Well…” she had sighed, smoothing out the blanket resting over you. “Is… is it a boy?”

You remember feeling your heart temporarily stop before lodging itself in your throat. You tried to ignore that burning feeling as you avoided breaking down and confirming her worries. But fighting it off didn’t mean that lump wasn’t in your throat. It didn’t mean your face didn’t get all warm as tears began to prick at your eyes. You were oddly silent as you kept your gaze down and shook your head. You were sure you could’ve held those tears in too, but then she got you to crack with a couple simple words.

“Oh honey…” She murmured and pulled you into her for a hug.

You didn’t want to tell anyone. It was embarrassing. It wasn’t even embarrassing—it was humiliating, mortifying. So you weren’t expecting how relieving it was to sob and finally let someone know, even if you didn’t go into detail.

“I thought he really cared about me d-deep down-“ you had wailed as your mom shushed you in a caring manner and rubbed your back.

You still appreciate the fact that she didn’t push. She didn’t urge you to tell her everything, she just let you cry until you were spent and she left to soak a face towel in cool water so she could press it to your flushed cheeks. She held you and murmured reassuringly, especially when you spoke up again—your voice horribly broken.

“I-It’s not fair because he’s perfectly fine and I… I’m…” you choked up after your tone got high with emotion before crumbling again.

“I know, honey, I know… it’s never fair…” she whispered. “But you’re gonna be okay. It feels like the end of the world now, but before you know it it’ll be a little bit better, okay?”

She had pulled back to look at you and wiped the tears off of your cheeks. “And then it’ll be better after that, and even more after that. You’re going to keep healing, I promise.”

In hindsight she wasn’t wrong, but there had still been so many days where you wished Eddie Munson would turn up dead for what he did to you. And now you felt horribly guilty for those thoughts after he had been so close. Even though you still despise him deep down, you hate yourself a little bit too. For letting him in, in the first place. For falling in love and for admitting it. For falling apart because he didn’t feel the same. For wishing he would drop dead.

And there was another thing that burned away at you. Right next to the fact that no one mentioned Eddie, was the frustrating fact that Jason was still talked about and practically canonized. There were portraits of him and Chrissy in local churches and in Hawkins High and sure maybe he didn’t deserve to die, but why wasn’t anyone talking about how he put fire under that ridiculous manhunt? To urge everyone to find Eddie and do who knows what to him?

Steadily approaching a year since Hawkins broke open, you’re scowling as you walk past that portrait of him in school. Having to repeat your senior year after the disaster threw everyone’s educational progress off the rails, you had to deal with that picture a lot. You turn your gaze elsewhere as you head to your last class of the day, and even that little glimpse of his image sparks up memories of his crazed state.

Jason had an inexhaustible vengeance, and refused to let anything—or anyone—get in his way. He had to find Eddie. He had to make him pay.

You didn’t know it at the time, but he had been hunting down Eddie’s closest friends and band mates to get information out of them. That’s how he found you.

“Where is he?” Jason shouted in Gareth’s face as he gripped him by the lapels of his cut up flannel.

“I don’t know!”

“Where is he!?”

“I don’t know!” Gareth insisted before Jason hit him again.

While a restrained Jeff shouted at him to leave his friend alone, Jason tossed him into his drums. A cymbal crashed while the set dispersed in different directions and Gareth was left lying on the floor of his garage.

“It’s gonna be hard to play those drums with a broken hand!” Jason rose his voice again, holding Gareth down by his back and crushed his hand between his sneaker and the concrete floor. There was an audible crunch as Gareth cried out in pain.

“Dustin!”

“What?”

“Dustin Henderson!”

“What?” Jason repeated, urging him to clarify.

“Dustin Henderson!” Gareth shouted again, face twisting in pain. “Man h-he was- he was calling around looking for Eddie! Maybe he found him! Maybe he found him!”

“See that wasn’t that hard, was it?” Jason taunted, but kept pressing his foot onto Gareth’s hand before finally stepping away.

“O-or y/n maybe, I don’t know.” Gareth cried out, cradling his hand that was pulsing with pain.

“Who?” Jason’s brow furrowed as he looked back at him.

Jeff spoke up for him, repeating your name in a panic.

“Y-yeah maybe. I don’t know, I haven’t seen her around him in a while, b-but I caught them fooling around in Eddie’s van once,” Jeff rambled on “And he was constantly messing with her. He… he might be with her. Or she might know.”

The more he thought about it, the more Jason remembered the occasional moment where he would see Eddie tossing things at you in class or pushing up against you in gym. Back in the car, Andy and Patrick chimed in with other things they witnessed. Eddie feeling you up. Eddie shoving you or knocking your books out of your hands. Eddie harassed you constantly. Maybe even being tutored by you (according to Andy). If you couldn’t join them through a mutual hatred for the metalhead, maybe you could at least be forced to give more information—especially if you had some fucked up relationship.

You were home alone despite your mother’s insistence to join her or your father at work. With two deaths and a possible killer still on the loose, she wasn’t wild about you being by yourself. You convinced her you could take care of yourself, especially with all the baseball bats and heavy golf clubs she kept around just in case.

Considering everything, you shouldn’t have opened the front door when someone rang, but you were so shocked to spot Jason Carver through your peephole to think about it. You weren’t impressed, even when he flashed you his best smile. You were just curious why he was here.

“Well, I’ll be quick. I’m sure you have better things to do.” he said with a soft laugh which you were sure he thought was charming. You just kept scowling.

“Yeah. I do,” you said bluntly and there was a flash of anger across his face for a moment before he filtered it through a weaker smile. “What do you want?”

“I just want to know if you have any idea where Eddie Munson is.”

You can’t help but scoff at this.

“No, and I really don’t care about where he could be.”

You’re about to close the door, but he was quick to speak up again and keep your attention.

“I heard you tutor him-“

“Not anymore. Too difficult.” You interrupted, and he faltered for a moment before continuing.

“I’m sure. I know how he treated you. It… it’s horrible really.” He spoke softly and you hesitated for a moment, hand still on the edge of your door.

But then you realized something.

If he knew, then where had he been? Why didn’t he do anything? Even if you didn’t want anyone to interfere—not really. Not to mention after he broke your heart and all ties were cut, Eddie surprisingly let up on the constant harassment. It wasn’t fun anymore. Soon enough he had been avoiding you in the halls as much as you had been avoiding him, but that didn’t mean everything before that never happened. If Jason really took notice of your interactions, where had he been?

“I could tell even then just from how he acted with you that he wasn’t a good person. He’s not a good person. He’s a killer, and he can’t be out here loose in Hawkins ready to claim another victim.”

You stare at him in silence. Your lack of response is clearly testing his patience and he’s parting his lips to speak up again, but you cut him off.

“Why now?”

“What?” Jason laughed this off casually.

“Why now are you suddenly so interested in how he used to treat me?”

“Oh, well I-”

“No,” you interrupted bluntly at your swift decision and with no room for fluff. No matter how much you hated Eddie. “I’m not here for your senseless propaganda. Thanks.”

You went to slam the door, but he kept it open. It touches on a memory of Eddie doing something similar once upon a time to get to you while you were all alone in your bedroom. The only difference is this isn’t Eddie, and Jason is really starting to scare you.

You glance over to see the concern on Lucas Sinclair’s face—you recognized him from the occasional interactions he had with Eddie and then from all the excitement of that recent basketball game he won for the high school team. He was behind Jason, a little off to the side and you spotted the car in the driveway with a few others inside. The fact that he had others with him didn’t exactly comfort you.

“I just want to know where that freak is, okay?” Jason clarified with a smile as if it covered the fact that he was clearly unstable. You could see it in his eyes.

“It’s dangerous with him out there. I’m just trying to help my community.”

“Whatever, Jason. Like I said: I’m not interested in any of this. I don’t talk to Eddie anymore. I don’t know where he fucked off to.”

“I know you’re screwing him. Just tell me where your creep boyfriend is.”

This sudden flash of anger and the contents of his accusation shocked you, but you didn’t let it force your guard down.

“I’m not with him like that. Like I said: I don’t fucking talk to him. I don’t know where he is.”

Jason still wasn’t budging, and you’re suddenly grateful for your mom’s incessant worrying when he took a step forward. You grabbed the metal bat your parents kept by the door right as he’s parting his lips to continue speaking.

“Get off my doorstep. Get away from me. Or I’m using this, Carver, I swear to god.”

This made him hold his hands up in defense and start to back off again, especially as Lucas murmured a swift “C’mon, man, maybe we should just leave her alone.” A sad excuse for a kind smile curved up the corners of the blond’s mouth. It made you sick.

“Just trying to take care of my community. No need to get violent… I’m one of the good guys. If you’re sure you don’t know anything—I’ll leave you be.”

“Well I don’t. How many times do I have to say it?” You snap, gripping the handle of the bat a bit tighter.

He finally started to walk off with an okay okay, but then he turned to look at you one more time.

“Be smart about which side you’re choosing.”

At that, you slammed your front door and locked it. One of the good guys, you think with a scoff. Yeah, sure.

Currently on your walk home, your mind is still swirling with memories of last year. You understood the need to commemorate and show respect, but the constant reminders didn’t help to move on. You hated being here. You couldn’t wait to graduate and move as far away as possible. You wanted to forget about Hawkins. You wanted to forget about Eddie Munson. You wanted to forget how close the world had been to ending.

You happen to glance up as you walk towards your house when your steps become hesitant at the sight of someone sitting on your doorstep. It was no jock ready to berate you. It certainly wasn’t Eddie.

It was none other than Nancy Wheeler.

Eddie was miserable.

Actually, it was beyond just misery. He couldn’t even think of a word to describe everything he had been through and everything he was actively going through—whether that was because he always failed vocab tests due to lazy disinterest or because such a word just didn’t exist. The whole experience took a lot out of him—quite literal chunks out of his body, not just emotionally.

Besides those who had become closest to him, once everyone was focused on the next suspect no one bothered to check back in with him. No one apologized for literally hunting him down with plans of… god, he didn’t even want to think about what they would’ve done if they caught him.

After being resuscitated, he had to be holed up in some secure room of a nearby hospital while he recovered since Hawkins Memorial Hospital was too risky for him. As the days in the hospital went by painfully and with more and more news on Hawkins turning up on the small TV of his room, he wondered if karma was a real thing. He narrowly escaped death and an arrest for a murder he didn’t commit (really the only thing saving his ass coming from the insistence of his uncle and Chief Hopper when he randomly appeared back in Hawkins). It certainly made a guy think about what he’s done.

In fact, all the isolation gave him far too much time to think. Watching the news; constantly pressing the morphine button even though he knew it wouldn’t give him more; falling into pits of depression where sometimes he wished they never brought him back—those thoughts of karma came up. He would eventually brush them off as hippie garbage, but memories of you were sounding off like an alarm in his head. It wasn’t hippie garbage. The concept held some real truth to it, and he knew he deserved everything that happened after he had been so cruel to you because of some stupid, childish need for distance from any sort of vulnerability.

After realizing that, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. He was stuck in Hell on earth with aching wounds he wished would heal faster and memories of a girl he should’ve treated better. He regretted how things ended, and wondered what it would be like right now if he hadn’t ended things with such brutal carelessness. You’d probably be right by his side and making it easier to get through. And when he thought about how much better it would be to heal with you here, something ached deep inside him that even morphine couldn’t touch. He missed something he never let himself have, and certainly didn’t deserve by this point. He knew what kinds of things mattered now, and it didn’t even make a difference because as much as it changed things for him that didn’t mean it changed things for you.

Then one night, it dawned on him that you might not even be alive.

He was sweating from all the pain and the drugs and the heat of mid September of ‘86, when it occurred to him that you could be gone. Having already established a constant pattern of thoughts that revolved around you, it wasn’t surprising that he was up at 2 AM with you on his mind but that intrusion to his pleasant memories or self-loathing put him into a panic. You could be dead quickly turned into you are dead, and he couldn’t handle it. How could he deserve to live, but you didn’t? Maybe because you deserved mercy and he didn’t. Either way, he ignored his crying nerves and scrambled for the walky talky on his bedside table.

He tried just about every channel he was allowed to use, but no one was picking up. Maybe they were sleeping, but he knew he wasn’t the only one in the group suffering from insomnia after everything that happened. Still, he wasn’t granted the peace of a response and he had to lay there just hoping for a chance to make things better—and worry that he wouldn’t get to.

The group that helped him through that horrific Spring break came to visit him when they were able to. It was typically at random, with the occasional stop at his request for certain food or begging for a distraction before he went insane. Lucas was the first one to answer when he tried the radio again early that morning, and he soothed Eddie’s anxiety with the promise of stopping by.

With Max in the hospital and still no signs of coming back, Lucas had his own need for a distraction. He trudged into the dull room Eddie was stuck in, and settled into the chair kept by the bed.

“Is she alive?”

Lucas blinked, wondering if maybe he missed something in his own fog of exhaustion and despair. Really it was because Eddie blurted out in mid-thought without the courtesy of some background, but he still grew frustrated with him. His face bunched up as he briefly bared his teeth in that split second of muted rage. One of his hands made a fist before he unfurled it to rub at his face and shake his head.

“Y/n. Y/n, Sinclair—jesus christ—is she alive?”

Lucas parted his lips and then closed them again, tired eyes staring over at the metalhead as he tried to get his mind to cooperate. Eddie nearly cracked over the hesitation, taking it as a sign that Lucas was struggling to tell him that you were gone rather than trying to remember who you were and if he had seen you around.

“Yeah. Y-Yeah,” he finally murmured and a heavy sigh exhaled from Eddie’s lungs. “I’ve seen her around school. She’s alive.”

“Jesus chr—she’s okay?” Eddie was rubbing his palms over his face again, bangs partially sticking up when he pulled his hands away to gesture with energy he didn’t have to spend.

“Yeah, man, she’s okay. I think—I-I don’t really talk to her, but she isn’t injured.”

Eddie sat with that for a moment, relieved that you were alive and at least fine physically, but his eyes were still sad. Lucas joined him in this bubble of misery, the silence tugging him back to thoughts of Max until Eddie finally popped the bubble again.

“Did… did she join everyone? Y’know in the Great Hunt for the Freak?” he let out a partial laugh, but it was hollow.

“No, she didn’t buy it.” Lucas shrugged and leaned forward to rest his forearms on his thighs.

His eye stung for a moment, watered and then returned to normal. After that fight in the old Creel house, his eye was never truly the same. It healed enough that it wasn’t swollen and bruised, but it was still sensitive and it watered more often. Whenever it did, it made him think of that night and he felt as if he was being punched all over again. It made him think of Max. It made him think of Jason.

Although with the topic on you, remembering Jason made him laugh a little—a soft, amused chuckle breaking through his sorrow.

“Jason actually went to her house. I… I was still with him at that point,” Lucas flicked his gaze up at Eddie with guilt before looking back down. “He wanted to interrogate her about you. See if you were hiding with her or if she hated you enough to join him.”

Eddie swallowed, brows frowning as he waited for him to continue.

“She uh… she threatened him with a baseball bat.” Lucas laughed a bit more wholeheartedly this time.

Eddie’s head sunk back a bit in surprise, big doe eyes even wider and brows raised in disbelief. He said your first name to clarify and even though Lucas nodded, he said your full name with that same questioning tone.

“She threatened Jason Carver with a baseball bat?”

You were meek if nothing else, and as Eddie knew you—you were easy to break. Easy to bend and mold so he never considered the possibility that you were strong. That you could take care of yourself, and you weren’t as weak as you looked. But maybe it was fitting. You appeared delicate and fragile, but were tougher than you looked. Whereas he had that rough n tough, bad boy act just for it to fall apart when he found himself scrambling away from danger. He just hoped he wasn’t the reason you were surprisingly resilient—that maybe it was always there and he just never noticed.

“Yeah. He wouldn’t back off and she said she’d do it if he didn’t leave,” Lucas snickered a bit before his mood was sobered by the other side of this memory. “She uh… she was scared. He was scaring her, and I don’t blame her. He was scaring all of us…”

He was focused on his hands now, toying with them anxiously and he could hear the sigh of Eddie’s puffy hospital pillow as he settled back against it. He was letting it all sink in, and for a moment he wished he was the one to kill Carver instead of the cracking earth. You didn’t deserve the way he treated you, and you didn’t deserve Jason’s intimidation tactics just because you had been caught up with the likes of him.

He hated that you had been scared, he hated that it was his fault, and he hated how much worse he felt now that he knew that you stood up for him even after everything he put you through. Maybe not so much stood up for him, but you didn’t let yourself get dragged into the accusations and mob mentality even if you had every reason to.

This hurt worse somehow, and he was bound to a new bout of pain and suffering.

“I just miss her, I guess…” Eddie admitted to his uncle once the topic turned to you. He felt the urge to repent and voice how badly he wished you were with him right now, and his uncle was the only one he felt safe admitting all of this to.

“The girl that you were spending time with at home?” His uncle’s gruff voice wondered, and Eddie was taken aback by the question.

All he said was there was a girl he had a thing with, which he messed up royally, and he wished he could have another chance. Nothing else, so he looked like a fish out of water now and his uncle chuckled at his reaction.

“I may not be the smartest man around, but I’m not stupid,” he grumbled out, sat in the same chair Lucas had been. “I was aware of your uh… activities.”

Wayne scratched at his stubble, embarrassed to acknowledge just exactly what his adult nephew had been up to—just as mortified as Eddie was over having to discuss sex with his uncle.

“I found her panty things stuck to the inside of the dryer,” Wayne explained further. “And I ran into her one morning when I had just come home from the plant.”

You had been leaving Eddie’s room to use the bathroom early in the morning, not realizing he would be home from a shift. You hoped that with how tired he looked that he would think it was all a weird dream or maybe that he was seeing things. After all, you were back in that room in a flash. Fast enough to be a fleeting ghost, but he saw you and he clearly remembered you. Eddie was grumbling something to himself now about you being careless enough to get him caught, but Wayne was quick to shut this down. He wasn’t known to raise his voice, and he still really didn’t, but his tone was harsher now.

“No—don’t you go blaming that girl cause you insisted on keeping her a secret. Christ, boy—you know, I thought I taught you better.”

Of all the things he could say, this was the worst. I thought I taught you better. Eddie wished he could shrink down to nothing, and he looked down at his hands in shame.

“You should’ve treated her better. That’s on you.”

“Yeah…” Eddie laughed out bitterly “You have no idea…”

Eddie sighed now, hiding his face behind his palms.

“I’m so fucking stupid. I don’t know how I thought that kind of shit was important,” He rips his hands away to jerk them outwards in an exasperated gesture and looks over at this uncle. “It was fun a-and then it was too serious and I just— I— and now I don’t know why I was thinking like that.”

“Well,” his uncle started after a pause to think it over. “you may have been a grown man in the eyes of the law, but that doesn’t mean you were thinking like one. You’re still young. I…I’d like to think you would’ve learned these kinds of thing at a regular pace as you grew up, but—shit—between your parents and especially after all this-”

Wayne gestured out into the air with little energy to his casual motion.

“You’re forced into adulthood. That’s what shit like this does…”

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do,” Eddie finally admits in a rush after a moment of considering his uncles words. He was sure they had some truth to them, but he thought maybe his uncle was giving him too much credit. “I really cared for her— I still really care for her. I was just… I was being-“

“Stupid? Childish?”

“Yeah, yeah okay- geez,” Eddie sighs and looks down at his hands to pick at his nails. “Yeah… all of that…”

“Well… maybe if she really means that much to ya, then be honest. Try again. Really put some elbow grease into it, and maybe—if you’re lucky—she’ll forgive you.”

Eddie scoffs out a miserable laugh and gestures around him in a way that’s far more animated than when his uncle did it.

“Yeah. Cause I’m clearly so lucky.”

What made all of this worse was the fact that he couldn’t even reach out for months.

Being hidden away didn’t only mean a different hospital picked out by Hopper. It also meant no calls, no letters—nothing. He couldn’t risk being found by anyone who was still convinced he was guilty. Eddie insisted it calmed down enough to come back and he had healed enough for it, but Hopper was hesitant and ultimately unyielding.

“It’s bullshit. You guys even said no one mentions me anymore, and it’s not like I’m a suspect.” Eddie ranted to Nancy during her visit, Steve somewhere else in the hospital looking for food.

“I know, but you’ll still stand out right now,” she reasoned. “If you come back, it could stir something up again.”

“What, so I never go back? I have to uproot my whole shitty life because of rumors?”

“Eddie-“ she sighed.

“No, it’s shit. It’s all shit. If I have to stay one more second in this shitty fucking room, I’m gonna start climbing the walls,” he ranted with wild eyes. “I need to leave. I need to live my crappy life. I… I need to see y/n again.”

At that, Nancy perked up. It wasn’t out of excitement, but rather something blowing through her sideways at your name. Familiarity burned at her before it all went up in flames, and she was overwhelmed with memories and guilt.

“Oh my god… y/n…” She murmured to herself with an upsetting sense of nostalgia.

She completely forgot about you in the mess of everything. At first she had been trying to keep you from learning anything that could put you in danger—doing her best to keep it between her and Jonathan. She had already lost Barb because of her own selfish carelessness, she couldn’t let something happen to you too. Then it was all a whirlwind from there and you were suddenly caught up in a past that she forgot existed. A past where a shoebox was just a shoebox.

Her eyes grow sad, her mind filling with thoughts of how she could’ve ever possibly left you in the dust. Sure, you were a newfound friend in high school—whereas her and Barb had been friends for years by that point—but that was no excuse for letting leaving you out of the loop turn into completely leaving you behind.

She’s so caught up in her own regrets that she forgets about Eddie until he’s speaking up again and waving his hand in front of her face.

“Uhh, Wheeler? Hello?”

“Oh- uh… yeah, yes.” She shakes her head, her curly hair shuffling around with the motion, her brow frowning and her lips taut. “Yes. Yes, I know her. You know her?”

“Well uh…” he lets out a nervous laugh, suddenly fearful of the rage of an old friend. “We sorta… we had a thing going…”

He risked a glance over at her, and her expression was anything but sparing. She clearly wasn’t happy with how guilty he sounded, but who was she? She abandoned you for all intents and purposes, even if she didn’t mean to. And if she had been blind enough to never notice what went on between you and Eddie, she had no right to chastise him for it even if she did have the familiar urge to get up on her high horse.

“But uh… I kinda screwed everything up,” he muttered and was back to picking at his fingers while he stared down at them. “Like you wouldn’t believe. And I just… shit, I’m so sick of this place and waiting around.”

“I’m sorry, Eddie, but you can’t go back to Hawkins yet.”

“Yeah, I think I got that,” he snaps bitterly before cooling down again. “I just… I need to talk to her or something. If she could be brought here, or if I could meet her somewhere else. I need to fix things.”

After constant complaining and threats of breaking out of the hospital, Nancy eventually found a compromise to get him to shut up.

Steve came back around the time he had started rattling on again about how he was going to go crazy. Utterly confused as always, he was off to the side and watched as Nance did her best to calm Eddie down again. He occasionally broke through all the noise with his questions, only to get a searing glare from Nancy. At some point, he finally caught on (kinda) and only made things worse.

“Munson has a crush,” he finally said with a snap of his fingers and points at them. “That’s cute. Embarrassing, but cute.”

“I don’t have a crush, you idi-”

“Will you please stop?” Nancy hissed over at him, expression begging for him to keep out of it.

“Why am I even here?” Steve wondered out loud with a sigh and kept eating his suspicious hospital jello.

“Cause I can’t leave this fucking place!” Eddie reiterated, making Nancy groan over Steve agitating the problem that she was just barely starting to settle.

“I’ll- I’ll give her a letter!” she finally offered, cutting Eddie off mid-complaint. Her arms shot up with the raise of her voice, laughing with exasperation. “Just write down what you want to say, and I’ll give it to her!”

“What are you doing here?”

It came out harsher than you intended and even you wanted to flinch at your own words, but maybe it was justified. She completed cast you aside you when you lost a friend. You both lost a friend, and it seemed to make her hate you. Or at least that’s how it felt. Why else would she have avoided you? Why else would she have stopped talking to you?

“I guess I deserve that.” Nancy replied with a soft huff of a laugh, and a sheepish smile.

More news seemed to be coming up little by little about Barb. Once upon a time you thought it all came to a close when it was revealed that she died from a chemical leak, but now there was talk of things that a chemical leak would wilt in comparison to. Things that went on in your own home town that you can’t even imagine going unseen by so many. Or maybe they all saw, but curled up into their comfortable ignorance to avoid it. You couldn’t judge them—you did too. You believed every story you got, even if—in hindsight—they were obvious cover ups every time someone started to demand for better explanations.

You eye her cautiously, hoping your eyes don’t show the sadness that came with such hesitancy around someone you used to know so well.

“I uhm…” Nancy shook her head the way she always did when she needed to clear her thoughts, brows furrowed and nose briefly scrunched up as she glanced at the ground. “I had to bring this to you…”

She was looking at you again, gauging your reaction as she extended her slim arm to offer you an envelope. You’re toying with it in your hands, wondering why there was no name on the back and if you should open it now.

“I’m… I’m sorry.”

You look up at her now, but remain silent. What was there to say?

“I should’ve never left you behind like that... Trust me, I never meant to. I thought I was protecting you and I was, but…” Nancy’s pouty lips scrunch together for a moment. “It wasn’t fair.”

“No, it wasn’t…” you concur, but your heart aches from the look on her face.

Sure, she hurt you but maybe you should’ve been grateful. Even if you wished she would’ve been honest with you, you knew how stubborn Nancy could be when it came to protecting those close to her. Instead of shutting her out, you extend an olive branch.

“Barb would be rolling her eyes at us right now, huh?”

Nancy stutters over her own disbelieving laugh as she glances at you through her lashes.

“Yeah, she would be.” Her nose scrunches again, lips bunched up a second time as her gaze grows sentimental. “She’d be telling us to stop being so stupid.”

“‘You both get perfect grades, why don’t you use your brains outside of school?’” You quote before laughing and she joins in.

“Guess we can’t say she wasn’t honest. She was always pretty straightforward with her thoughts.”

“One of us had to be.”

Nancy nods, and then let’s out a sigh as she rubs her arm and starts to move out of your way.

“Well, I should probably let you get to that-“

“Yeah, this letter that isn’t suspicious at all.” You joke, holding up the blank envelope and she laughs lightly before ducking her head down.

Figuring you were parting ways now, you turn around and open your front door, just to turn around in your doorway when you heard her suddenly chirp out your name. She hesitates again, but then finds her words.

“I… now that things seem to be going back to normal… I… I’d love to try being friends again. Maybe have a girls night.”

A smile breaks out onto your face, and you watch her defenses slowly start to melt away and smooth out the stiffness in her body.

“I’d like that.”

“What did she say? How’d she react?” Eddie asked over the radio, barely even waiting for a second to pass before continuing. “Wheeler? Hello?”

“Can I have a moment to respond?” Nancy quipped back, the crackling of the station breaking up her voice but not enough that he couldn’t hear her frustration. Not that he cared right now.

“What’d she think?”

“I don’t know, Eddie,” she sighed. “She didn’t open your letter in front of me.”

“Shit…” Eddie mutters, chewing at his thumbnail. He wanted—maybe even needed—the instant gratification that Nancy could’ve given him had she stuck around to watch you open the envelope.

Then again, maybe he was lucky.

“It— It’s whatever. I just hope it makes a difference.”

“What…what did you say to her in the letter?” Nancy asked now before shifting her focus quickly. “What did you even do in the first place?”

“Uhh, well let’s see,” Eddie looked up at the ceiling from where he was sat on the edge of his bed as his leg started to bounce. “I was a dick. Yeah… yeah, that about sums it up.”

“Don’t make me regret doing this for you, Eddie.” Nancy sighed and turned down the volume to her walky talky.

“I’m sorry, and I mean it. I’m capable given the right circumstances, remember?” the writing said, then there were a few words that had been crossed out and he followed those scratches of ink with a winky face, concluding with: “Leave that window unlocked, kay? I’ll be back for that necklace so keep it safe.”

Was the world falling apart all over again? Did you actually die and you didn’t even realize it? Everything seemed so unexpected and oddly… nice? Reassuring? Like Nancy showing up and apologizing. Or this letter you had open on top of your bedding.

It was part of a full sheet of paper, likely the bottom third of a page torn off. The handwriting and the comments throughout were enough to immediately make you think of who wrote this—even if he didn’t sign it. But what really confirmed it was the necklace with the red guitar pick hanging on it. You’re infuriated with the involuntary flush reaching your cheeks as memories rush in. All the times he was on top of you, that necklace hanging down and resting on your chest or nudging your chin and lips.

“God, you’re such a good girl for me.” you remember him groaning that one time he watched you sucking on the guitar pick, big eyes staring up at him while he fucked into you.

You had been folded into yourself on his mattress, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes from each and every thrust that fed your greed for him but was inevitably making your body ache.

The pick that was now resting in your palm was suddenly just a thin slab of plastic. The more you thought about it, that’s pretty much all it tasted like it, but you remembered the saltiness of his sweat too. What made it so special in the first place was knowing it was his. It was such an integral part of him—it laid close to his heart where you wished to be, and it was cherished by him which you wished for yourself once too. That moment in his small bedroom when you let it slip past your lips, you hadn’t been sure how he’d react, and to be completely honest you were too fucked out to think at all. But he didn’t pull it away from you, he sunk into you with that shuddering praise instead.

The memory of his words was enough to raise your body temperature, but you fought off that familiar instinct to melt just for him. He’s an asshole. A cruel heartbreaker. He’s selfish. He’s mean. He’s smug. He ruined love for you.

Your stomach bends and curls enough to make you nauseous as the butterflies kick in—then why do I still want him so badly? You were so desperate to take every single ounce of attention—good or bad—that he gave you. Hadn’t you learned your lesson? Hadn’t you been practicing your borderline religious hatred for him enough for it to be real?

You’re not sure if it’s anger towards him or yourself for slipping so easily, but your blood is starting to boil. You remind yourself of all those games he used to play with you and the sentiment of him being a heartless, sadistic fuck plays on repeat in your head so that no softer thoughts can break through. Surely he was toying with you. This was a test of some kind, probably because he got bored and wanted to brush you off like some forgotten toy he wanted to use again.

You needed to prove to yourself that you can shoot him down. Stare into those gorgeous doe eyes and tell him to go fuck himself. Look up at him when he’s giving you that beautiful half-smile and moving his hands to hold your hips, and tell him to never talk to you again.

You needed to show him how it felt to be treated the way he treated you. Maybe it was childish, but some twisted part of you felt relieved at the thought of it. He deserved to have his hopes shattered when he thinks he’s getting what he wants, just to be shut out. He deserved to be humiliated. He deserved to be broken down so thoroughly just like you had been. To be broken down into such a fine dust that even when you were sure everything had been swept back together again, there were always going to be those missing bits and pieces that fell through the cracks or blew away.

As you’re toying with the necklace in your hands, you can’t help but think you’re being too immature. What about last year? Everything that happened to him? Maybe he’s been put through enough? Your brow frowns, and you’re internally cursing yourself for being so horribly incapable of making a decision.

Your hand shot up to cover your frustrated expression, a groan leaving your lips. You wanted to let yourself hate him so badly, but you wanted to feel loved by him so much it hurt.

You think it over for the rest of the night, laying in bed with your hands still clutching that necklace. You’re up for hours, only falling asleep when your body forces you into submission around 4 AM—nodding off and snapping back up just to nod off again. Your last thought is that you had to be strong—whatever that meant. You didn’t have to be mean, but you refused to cave and immediately let him have you in whatever way he wants.

He’s won far too many times, and now it’s your turn.

“If you get caught then I had nothing to do with this—got that, Munson?” Steve whispered as he glanced over at the metalhead, one arm still outstretched as he held onto the steering wheel.

Eddie was too busy taking in the sight of your house and breathing in the fresh night air. It never occurred to him before just how much he loved the smell of chill in the wind, like it might snow soon. Ever since last year he was realizing a lot of things he never knew he loved, and he felt both relieved and crushed by the knowledge. He was sure he knew himself before everything happened. He liked fantasy games, music, and indulging in that metal rockstar lifestyle even if it was just another fantasy he was playing into. He liked having all eyes on him as he made a scene in the lunchroom. He liked being the local anarchistic leader of fellow freaks, and ignoring any other responsibilities. He liked girls he could use like he was some big shot backstage after a show.

He thought everything was about prepping himself for that kind of life. He was comfortable being the asshole who never pulled his weight anymore than he had to if he wasn’t interested enough. He was comfortable being a runner because then he could continue living the way he was used to without anything to come in and hold him back, until his whole life fell apart. Then he was afraid for his life. Then he was afraid for that kid’s life—all of their lives, actually, not just Dustin’s. Then he was suddenly the person charging into danger to give someone else a chance.

And now he was alone. He still had his new group, but they could continue their lives while he was kept hidden away and all he had to do was think about everything he never realized he would miss. Something as simple as recognizing a familiar comfort in the smell of a soft breeze felt heart wrenching. Or laying in a hospital bed wishing he still had that one girl to love him made him horribly aware of how empty he’s always been.

“Hello?” Steve urged with an impatient tone.

Eddie glanced over at him and despite his frustration at the lack of response, Steve felt taken aback by the sight of him. Something about finally seeing him back out of the hospital made him realize just how miserable Eddie really was. Maybe it was because sadness made sense in a hospital, or maybe it was the way the moonlight hit his features the right way and he could see the deeper shadows of his face and his sullen eyes.

“Just… be quick alright? And I was never here.”

“Yeah, Hopper’ll have your head.” Eddie snickered quietly.

“I’m less concerned about Hopper…” Steve muttered as thoughts of a certain young woman being upset with him flashed through his head.

“Women, am I right?” Eddie asked playfully in a mocking manner to anyone who ever seriously shared that sentiment, leaning his body towards Steve before laughing as the brunet nudged him back.

“Will you just go?” Steve laughed it off, shaking his head and watched him finally clamber out of the car.

Eddie snuck to the side of the house where he could spot your window. It had been a solid couple of weeks since Nancy brought his letter to you, and he just wished you would let him back in. He huffed before forcing himself up to make his way towards the window, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his lips in concentration. He was understandably weaker since the last time he was doing this on a weekly basis, but he pushed through and squeezed his eyes shut in frustration when it wouldn’t open. You kept it locked.

Your whole body tensed at the sound of someone rapping on your window, hand clutching your blanket. It had been long enough that you thought he was never going to come and retrieve his necklace, and you were irritated with your own disappointment. Now you were struggling with the sudden surge of excitement lighting up your nerves, which was making a sour combination with all that built up anger towards him.

When you finally forced yourself to look over your shoulder, you weren’t expecting how badly you wanted to cry. You wanted to let him in and just kiss him. Kiss him until you could pass out from the lack of oxygen. Hold him to you and refuse to let him leave. He wasn’t allowed to make a visit like this and leave you again—physically or emotionally. You couldn’t handle it, and you were surprised at how all these feelings presented themselves.

“What is your problem?” Is the first thing to leave your lips when he’s climbing into your room, and you might’ve been more surprised by your words than he was.

“W… what?” he laughs off your question, shocked by you starting the interaction this way; although realistically he shouldn’t have been.

“Why are you here?”

“Well I…” he rubbed his arm once he was back to his full height, scratching a bit at his elbow. “I wanted to apologize-”

“Why does it matter to you now?” you interrupt, your anger surprisingly not faltering even when his big eyes flit up to look at you sadly like a dejected puppy. You felt so broken when you finally saw him again, you didn’t know where this was coming from. Why—when you wanted him back so badly—you were being so… mean.

“What? Did you develop a conscience all of a sudden? Get hunted for months and suddenly have an opportunity to stop and think ‘hm it really sucks to be treated like garbage, gee I wonder if this is how I made her feel’”?”

Eddie’s expression hardens for a moment, and it’s more familiar to you than any bit of softness he was showing you.

“Y’know, I wasn’t exactly treated all that great in school either. I can assure you, I already knew what it’s like to be treated like shit.”

“Oh so that excuses it then.”

“I-” Eddie huffs, letting out an incredulous laugh before trying again. “That’s not what I said. Shit— I just… I’m sorry, okay? I’m not trying to make any excuses. I should’ve been better to you.”

You stay silent for a moment, arms crossed as you watch how honest he looks when he’s all soft like this—with those puppy eyes hopeful and glossy.

“Why did you do it? If you really cared all this time why were you so hell bent on hurting me so thoroughly?”

“I never wanted to hurt you…” he mutters as he looks at the floor, glancing up when you scoff out a disbelieving laugh of your own. For once this kind of attitude doesn’t fuel his fire, but tamps it down. He felt awful, and what made it worse is he couldn’t blame you if you didn’t believe it.

“I… I thought you were cute before. Just in passing, y’know, cause you were still an underclassmen back then, but…” he glances down at his shoes. “I overheard you with your friends talking about me, and when the possibility of me liking you came up you jus’ laughed about it. Like taking an interest in me was that bad.”

His brow furrows at the memory, and just when you’re about to respond he continues to explain himself the best he can.

“I just… I don’t know, alright? It was stupid but it made me feel like shit. Like as if you would ever give me the time of day. And then it was like you were obsessed with me, and I just…”

“Wanted to make me hurt?” you question and he glances up at you briefly before nodding.

There’s a beat of silence, and he’s hopeful this is you letting everything sink in and understand where he was coming from. That you’d see his sincerity, and take him back because fuck he couldn’t stand being alone again.

“You took my heart and ripped it into shreds because of that?” you finally ask, tone sharp enough to make him cringe. “Because of something I said as a nervous sophomore who couldn’t fathom being liked? Or being seen as interesting? That’s what this is all from?”

“Well- I- but you liked the teasing-” Eddie attempted, and immediately regretted when he saw the fire in your eyes.

“That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it!”

“I… you… you do it too! Sometimes we overreact! It happens!” Eddie finally snapped back, but tried to keep his frustration within a whisper the same way you were. “Sometimes you overhear a conversation and you make the wrong conclusion! Sometimes you don’t get kissed and you get upset! Sometimes you try to sell a girl drugs and end up on the wrong fucking side of hell opening up! Shit happens in fucked up ways! Things get messed up! I’m trying to fix how I messed up!”

He’s visibly distraught, and even though he knew this wouldn’t be easy, deep down he wished you’d melt into him like always.

“You don’t get to pull that with me, Eddie. I’m sorry about what happened last year. I really, truly am because you don’t deserve it—no matter how much I hate your fucking guts. But you don’t get to use it to distract me with it.”

“I’m not—fuck— I’m not trying to distract you with it! I’m just saying things get mixed up because of assumptions n shit like that. And I’m… I’m sorry I…” he trails off, letting out panting breaths. “You… do you really hate me?”

You hesitate, that broken look on his face almost getting to you, but you’re so sure you know better. You know how he can manipulate things.

“Yeah, Eddie. I hate you.”

He’s surprisingly quiet as he looks at you, an unfamiliar glittering to his eyes.

“And by the way, there’s a huge difference between you spending years hell bent on my misery and leaving me beyond devastated; and me giving you the silent treatment after you fucked me in the middle of the night and didn’t stick around or kiss me or make me actually feel cared for in any way.”

Eddie murmured your name, taking a step forward in a quiet plead for forgiveness. Mercy. Anything but this.

“No. I’m talking right now. Not you. So shut up and listen for once,” you choked out as tears filled your eyes, which felt oddly dissonant to your anger.

“I don’t like you. I don’t trust you. And I don’t want you back in my life,” You listed off with an attitude that surprised him, even if he deserved it. “I’m sorry that Hawkins has ruined your life, but that doesn’t mean you get me back just cause all of this has given you a fucking backbone and a conscience.”

Eddie’s lips part and then close again, feeling like a fish out of water. He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what to do with that aching in parts of his body he didn’t even know could ache.

“Doll, please… I really…” he breathes in deep enough that it turns shaky and burns deep in his chest. “I need a chance. I need a chance to show you I mean it. That I did love you back. That I still love you. That I can make it all up to you.”

You dig your nails into your crossed arms, looking away. You know if you keep looking into those big brown eyes that look so desperate right now that you just might cave.

“Well… I don’t love you anymore. So don’t call me doll, and just leave me alone.”

Eddie rubs his hands over his face, reaching back to temporarily grip his hair to use up some of that rage on himself before he lets go again.

“What do I have to do? What do I have to do to get even one chance? Just one, that’s all I’m asking. It’s all I need cause I swear I won’t hurt you ever again,” Eddie pleads and he’s shocked by his own words, but he doesn’t regret them for even a second. “I-I’ll check in more on how you’re feeling. I’ll ask if there’s anything I can do better. I’ll meet your fucking parents. I’ll be gross and romantic and honest. Please. Just give me one last chance, and I won’t take it lightly. Just don’t lie to me if you still love me. Trust me, I know what’s it’s like to be scared shitless about letting someone in so you’d rather just lie. It’s not worth it.”

He notices that last remark sparks up your frustration and he clarifies speedily.

“And I know that me being like that is the reason you’re hesitant to let me in now. I know that’s my fault, I just… shit, I need another chance.”

The fact that he was so insistent and willing to grovel gave you some comfort, but you’ve learned to not get your hopes up. You stick to your guns, but not as confidently as before. And Eddie sees that.

“Please just leave…” you murmur, even if it’s burning away at you to insist that he go.

He groans, rubbing at his face again but goes to straddle your windowsill anyway.

“I really do care about you. I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner.”

You started chewing at the skin around your thumbnail—a nasty stress-related habit you picked up from someone. You didn’t respond, just waited for him to actually go. You were too busy fighting your urge to crumble at his words that actually felt so sincere.

“I’m glad you’re alive.” You finally offer in a voice so soft you might as well have never spoken up, but it’s enough to ease some of that aching he felt.

“I’m glad you’re alive, too… I was worried you wouldn’t be. Bugged the shit out of Sinclair so he’d let me know.” he admitted with a soft laugh.

“You asked about me…?”

“Yeah… you’re all I’ve been thinking about.”

You bite your lip, swallowing when you realized just how tight your throat felt. You’re unsure of how to respond without giving into him, until you catch a glimpse of his necklace on your bedside table.

“Oh uhm… you came here to get this back.” you murmur, padding over to the nightstand to grab it and bring it over to him. Eddie stares at the pick in your palm before looking at you with sad amusement.

“The necklace wasn’t really what I was interested in coming back for…” he admits with a soft chuckle, eyeing you as his smile falters. “Keep it.”

“But it’s your-”

“Keep it. Please.”

The moment is bittersweet, and you’re thinking about what it would be like if you really gave him a chance to prove he’s being honest with you tonight, but you’re too fearful to take that chance. You do hold onto the necklace though.

“Good night, Eddie.”

taglist: @mynameismothra @angelina16torres-blog @tlclick73 @elvendria @psychospore @daisyridleyyyy @sidthedollface2 @kelsiegrin @swiss-cheeze @darknesseddiem @magnificantmermaid @hazydespair @bonehead-playz @stephanie-nicks76 @madaboutjoe @homiesexual-or-homosexual @neobanguniverse @prestinalove @galaxyfxcs @canyonmooncreations @hereforshmut @ediewentmissing @sadest-bookshelf @harlowsgirl @damon-loves-pie @stardustmunson @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @bitchyseawitch @littlered0000

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #as if eddie munson #bully!eddie munson #mean!eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader #as if angst #as if part 4 #as if eddiessluttywaist #eddie munson x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson angst

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sl33py-day · 1 year

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SAGAU But they got the gender wrong Part 2

I don’t remember if people wanted this, or be tagged sorry about that! If you want to be tagged you can ask me. Yes, another Drabble I am very tired.

Anyways, Akashi. Kinda the main subject of this whole post. We know that everyone thought you were a girl, didn’t know you were in Tevyat, and didn’t know you had a boyfriend. Then people found out blah blah blah, everyone loved you blah blah blah.

In the first part, I tried to make it somewhat seem that Akashi was a yandere. The more stable type, the one that got their lover and just get overly jealous at times. I intended a lot of things, for one him and Aether.

The two have fought, physically and verbally, behind M/n’s back. He could be gone for a run to the store while Akashi and Aether are fighting in M/n’s room. The two males hate each other’s guts, even before learning that M/n was the god of Teyvat.

Before I continue, yes both of them have killed people just in different ways. Aether stabs people without a care for the blood that would spill over him. Akashi poisons people with different poisons, he’s not one for messes and likes to cause pain from the inside.

Now, Archons. Venti, the god of freedom, is so close to taking the black haired man’s freedom by locking him in a cage made out of wind. How dare you even think of dating a mortal they will die sooner or later. I mean, they could one day show up covered in irreversible damage. You never know :)

Akashi, once again gonna be my favorite oc I have ever made. He has somewhat fluffy and curly black hair that gets tangled a lot. His eyes are dark red, and he’s tall. He’s the kind of yandere to be very clingy and wants Hugs as much as possible. If he could he would hold your hand everywhere, even the bathroom. He may or may not have stalked you before officially talking to you, he just wanted to know what you liked and disliked so he would sound more confident!

When the genshin yanderes find out what Akashi has done. They will to absolutely anything to make you break up with him. They tell you he killed the guy who seemed a bit of a creep. They tell you that he was to obsessed with you that he doesn’t even love you. The same goes for Akashi, he tell you everything the Archons, Aether, even your best friend Xiao did for you.

Who do you believe more? Your boyfriend of course!

Does anyone want to know more About the red eyed yandere? Cause I know a few people that seem to like him.

#Yandere Genshin #Yandere oc #Yandere x reader #Yandere male #male x male #Male reader #Genshin x reader #SAGAU #Yandere SAGAU #Yandere genshin impact

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its-the-sa · 5 months

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it is serious. the ship just comes off as nasty to me and i dont understand it

oh, then I'm sorry for being dismissive. I thought you were just a hater lol.

but in all seriousness, if a ship seems nasty to you, then a logical explanation of it is probably not going to change your mind. squicks are just gut reactions, so it doesn't really matter whether or not you understand the thing that squicks you. and that's ok! if the ship makes you uncomfortable, you should just block the rw regicide tag (or in my case you should probably just block me entirely lol )

but since you did ask sincerely, I'll at least try to explain why I ship it:

basically, I'm just a sucker for the 'enemies to lovers' trope and the 'villain redemption' trope. show me any two characters who fit both of those, and I'll probably ship it lol

I like villain redemption, because I like tragic villains. I like villains whose actions are inexcusable, but understandable. villains who lash out due to grief and end up doing horrible things in the throes of rage. and I like making them feel bad about it. I like villains who know they are monsters, who know they have done despicably evil things and truly hate themselves for it. and I like giving them a second chance. I like to see them feel remorse and turn away from evil and try to become better people.

and I like enemies to lovers because... well, for a lot of reasons that would probably take several thesis papers to unpack, lmao. but basically there's just something really intimate about two characters who can handle each other at their absolute worst, when no one else can. arti is like an unstoppable force of rage until she meets scav king, who is like an immovable object to her. he's willing to fight her and kill her as many times as he needs to, but he never strikes first, and he always gives her the chance to back down. and since he does have min aggression and max sympathy, I see him as the type of person who would easily forgive someone who is genuinely remorseful. he doesn't want to keep the cycle of violence and hatred going; whenever arti is ready to let go of her rage and stop the bloodshed, so is he. when she's ready to face the consequences of her actions and try to become a better person, he would rather support her than condemn her. he doesn't necessarily expect his people to forgive her, and he doesn't try to make excuses for her or downplay any of the harm she caused. i just think he could personally look at arti and find someone worth caring about underneath all the rage and hate, and in turn she could look at him and find someone she can trust enough to let all that hate go and admit she was wrong.

obviously, this type of relationship could never happen in real life (or if it did, it would be a fucking toxic disaster). but they're just characters, so their relationship doesnt have to be realistic, and I just want their story to have a happy ending I guess.

idk if any of this makes sense to you, but it's fine if not. you don't always have to understand why people like things that you don't like, it's ok to just block them for your own peace of mind. so if this ship still makes you uncomfortable, feel free to block me, I wouldn't take offense. stay safe and remember that fandom is for having fun , so dont stress out about it too much!

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kindlingkeen · 17 days

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Hi! I absolutely adore your Asymmetrical Warfare series on AO3 (it’s got me back on a competent Jason Todd kick, which, there’s honestly too little of so if you have any recs pls fire away)!

I did have a curiosity that I hope you don’t mind answering though: are there specific reason why you’re not a Tim fan? And does that extend to other members of the batfam as well?

Hi, anon! I’m so glad you’re enjoying Asymmetrical Warfare (competent Jason ftw!). 🙌

Re: Tim. I should probably be more conscientious with my wording around Tim. A lot of what I say in ao3 comments or here tends toward facetious, and tone doesn’t really come across well online.

Which is not to say there aren’t things about Tim that bug me. For example—canon Tim, there are more than few instances of him being downright shitty to Jay’s memory. Case in point, from Batman #456, Tim imagines Jason’s ghost giving him a pep talk about becoming a hero and Jason says he killed himself because he didn’t listen to Batman.

Ah, no sir, the responsible party was the psychopathic clown with a crowbar and some explosives, not the 15 year old trying to save his newly discovered biological mother.

But is this really Tim the character’s fault? Or is it dc’s fault for creating a narrative that brutally murdered a child and then spent decades trashing his memory and blatantly victim-blaming him for it?

It’s really more fanon depictions of Tim that I have a problem with. In particular, the tendency to project Jason’s trauma onto Tim. Trying to spin the white boy who came from an affluent two-parent household as somehow more neglected than the kid whose parents are dead/incarcerated and was literally homeless is just ??? Jason’s backstory touches on so many important societal issues (the gutting of the social safety net, the industrial prison complex, the opioid epidemic, the criminalization of poverty, the stigmatization of sex work), and this approach sweeps all of that under the rug.

It also really gets my goat how many fics masquerade as being about Jason, but are actually just a vehicle for Tim time. These stories tend to dramatize Tim’s character, whether it’s woobie, touch-starved little Timmy who needs constant reassurance and protection, or smarter than everyone ever, can not be out thought or out fought, is actually a CEO while he should be in high school Tim. My problem with this type of narrative is usually two-fold. 1) It dumbs down Jason’s characterization (which should be so rich and complex) to ridiculously oversimplified motivations and actions. And 2) it turns Tim into a caricature of himself, instead of a compelling character with a balance of strengths and weaknesses and a normal amount of teenaged self-esteem.

It probably doesn’t sound like it from this blog post, but I do really try hard in life not to yuck other people’s yum. Just because I don’t care for how Tim is portrayed, it doesn’t make it inherently bad or wrong. And all of this aside, I’ve read plenty of fics where I enjoyed Tim just fine. For example, I love how @bonerot19 writes Tim in their Something in the Static series. And Tim and Jay’s dynamic in WFA is often amusing.

So, yeah, bottom line. Tim is … fine. I’m just not a fan, per se. I try to at least write him fairly in Asymmetrical Warfare, with both the realistic shortcoming of a teenage boy and the awesomeness of Robin. He’s never going to get the same amount of page time as the rest of the crew is, though.

Re: the rest of the batfam. I mean, I often want to bop Bruce on the nose. Especially canon Bruce who beats up his kids and is completely unrepentant about it. But, honestly, that’s not my Bruce. My Bruce, who I love and love to hate in turn, would never do that. (Compartmentalization, the key to happy fic reading and writing.)

I love Babs and Dick. I want to be besties with Steph, but in reality she’s way too cool for me. Duke and Cass I’m less familiar with, but have no problems with. Damian is growing on me, and if dc would just give up the game and admit that Dami and Jay met in the LoA and are actually super special murder brothers at heart, that would be great. Selina is a queen and someday I will write that Selina + Jay and Dami meet in the LoA fic I’ve been dreaming about.

Re: competent Jason fic recs. One of my favorites is butcherbird, fly away home by e_va @e-vasong. Bonus rec, the same author put out a new fic recently, another way to make it to ten, and it not only features competent Jason, it’s Jason & Tim, and I like Tim in it.

Thanks so much for the ask, anon! Really great questions. Kudos if you made it through the whole post. 💙

#keen converses #fic rec #tim drake #jason todd #my fic #asymmetrical warfare #batfam thoughts #character thoughts

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givemea-dam-break · 1 year

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a/n: this is part 4 for the enemies to lovers lockwood x reader (out the window) that has been requested by quite a few people! thank you all for your continuing support i love you all <;3 @simrah1012 @wordsarelife @aislinrayne @helpmelmao @superpositvecloudshipper -> since you all were waiting so patiently :)

warnings: descriptions of blood and injury gn reader

full series collection: here

"Five jobs in the past week alone. I think you're starting to make all of these up to spend more time with me."

Lockwood grins at you from across the room. If not for the box of doughnuts he'd showed up with as bribery, you wouldn't have let him into your flat again. You're exhausted.

"I can promise you, they aren't being made up. Every case you help us with gets us more and more business. Which, speaking of, have you thought any more on my offer?"

You take a bite out of a particularly yummy-looking doughnut, taking a minute to reply. "And have this amount of work almost every day? Are you trying to kill me?" Another bite as he laughs. "But, yes, I've thought about it."

"And?" He looks eager, excited even.

"Let's see how this case goes today, then I'll make my final decision."

Despite not getting a straight answer, he grins. "You don't even know what it is you're being hired for."

"And?" You shrug. "Might as well. You'll only muck it up without me."

Leaning back against your kitchen counter, you watch Lockwood carefully. In the past few weeks, something about the dynamic between you two has changed wildly, though it's perhaps not the worst thing ever. Within a month alone, you've gone from hating his guts to being able to joke about with him, which is progress, but there's something else hidden beneath it all, a greater motive your soul is striving for.

It's easier to understand his mannerisms now, too, which makes working together a little easier.

Like, now, for example: he's tapping his fingers against the handle of the mug that has now been designated his, which is the only inclination of his anxiousness. It's not as strong as it would be if he were donning that big grin of his while shaking his foot with his legs crossed.

"So?" you say. "What's it this time?"

"Haunted school."

"Ooh, exciting. Haunted by who?"

Lockwood smiles. "A bunch of angry Catholic nuns."

"How many are we talking?"

"Well, the local kids - this is just out of London, by the way - can't seem to agree on a number, but we're thinking at least half a dozen. Some seem to be Type Ones, so easy enough to handle, but there might be a couple of Twos."

Nodding, you take a sip of tea. "Sounds like fun. George at the Archives?"

"He and Lucy," Lockwood says. "They'll meet us at the train, so, if you wouldn't mind coming back to Portland Row with me to get their gear, too, that would be great."

"Oh, so it was already assumed I'd be joining on this case?"

His smile only widens. "Would you really have turned it down?"

"No," you say with a grin.

You grab another doughnut, holding it between your teeth as you grab your duffle bag, and fasten your belt with your rapier and mix of salt bombs and magnesium flares around your waist. The entire time, you can feel Lockwood watching, but, strangely enough, it doesn't leave your skin prickling with unease. Slinging your duffle bag over your shoulder, you turn to him, taking a bite out of the new doughnut.

"Want one before we go?"

"I'd never turn a doughnut down."

The train is cool, and you believe the air conditioning deserves a raise. Outside, it's sweltering, and you were sweating by the time you reached Portland Row with Lockwood, never mind the station.

George, within minutes of sitting down, has his notebook and some newspaper clippings sprawled out on the table. Lucy sits beside him, setting things out in a way that makes it make a little more sense - at least to her - and sips on a milkshake you're both sharing.

"The nuns were murdered a hundred or so years ago," George starts. "They had been killed upon finishing the day teaching the schoolkids, but the killers were never identified. Brutal murders: some slashed at the throat, some stabbed, some were even -"

"We get the idea, George," Lockwood says. "What else do we know?"

He barely looks at his notes. "The school is relatively unchanged. Since the start of the problem, they've hung up a few iron and silver crucifixes and crosses, decked the place out with lavender. All the seats and tables have been replaced with iron ones, but the layout is essentially the same. The nuns were killed in the classroom, and that's where they've appeared, according to the locals. A few kids have been hospitalised or killed by ghost touch, along with one of the few teachers."

You frown, looking down at one of the newspaper clippings. "Says here that there were eight that died. That's a lot of Visitors to go up against."

Lockwood waves a hand nonchalantly. "We've dealt with worse, Haven't we, guys? The three of us once took down fourteen Wraiths."

"Kipps' team saved our asses, you mean," Lucy says, taking an angry sip of the milkshake. "Are we sure this isn't more than what we can handle?"

"A few of them sound to be Type Ones," George says, confirming what Lockwood said earlier. "My thinking is that the one in charge, Sister Something-or-Other, will definitely be a Type Two. She has the most reason to want revenge - it was her that was in charge, and it was her fellow nuns killed."

"This is why we've brought extra chains," Lockwood says, and you don't miss how his knee brushes against yours. "Plus a stockpile of spare salt bombs, and we have magnesium flares if we end up needing a last resort. I wouldn't have agreed to this case unless I knew we were capable."

You take the milkshake from Lucy, sipping from your straw. "I don't know... I mean, do we have any clue what the source could be? It's not like there will be anything left of them if it was a century ago."

"Could be an old floorboard left from back then," George suggests. "Or a Bible. That seems likely."

"I still don't feel good about this," Lucy says.

"We'll be fine," Lockwood insists. "Just a few harmless nuns."

Spoiler: it is not just a few harmless nuns.

Upon reaching the town, a crowd of locals rushes up to meet you and the members of Lockwood and Co, showing you the way to the school while recounting stories of what has happened so far. It's a lot of noise, and someone shouts in your ear at one point or another, but it takes only a short amount of time to reach the school.

It looks like the kind of Catholic school you'd see in the movies: almost like a church, made out of dark stone, a cross embedded in the large front door. A fence - this one modern and made from iron - surrounds the playground, which has been deserted for a short while.

A woman stands at the foot of the stairs leading to the school. She's maybe in her forties, dressed in a knee-length skirt and a pretty blouse, but the look on her face is enough to make you even more uneasy than you already were. Horror.

"Lockwood and Co!" she says brightly, but her voice trembles. "Thank you so much for coming."

Lockwood flashes her that ridiculous grin of his and, sure enough, she relaxes a little. "It's our pleasure, Mrs Garrett."

She tries for a grateful smile, but it looks more like a twitch. "The school has been closed for the past week since the last incident of ghost touch. No one has been inside lest the ghosts kill us all."

"That won't be happening, I assure you," Lockwood says. It's infuriating how confident he is. "We'll be rid of these ghosts in no time. For now, I suggest you all start making your way back home; curfew will be soon, and we work best when we're not worrying about your safety, too."

"Thank you, Mr Lockwood," Mrs Garrett says. She can't get off the steps quickly enough.

Soon enough, the playground is emptied of locals until it's just the four of you. The sun is making its slow descent in the sky. Even though it's still bright, ghost lamps begin flickering on. Four are posted at each corner of the playground and, distantly, you can see some on the street of houses, barely working.

Lockwood claps his hands together, startling you. "Right! Shall we get started?"

You want to say absolutely not, but you follow him up the steps regardless.

The inside of the school is chilly, but you don't think it's because of ghosts yet. The entrance hall is small, with pegs on the two side walls with little nametags above each for jackets. Silver crosses hang at random intervals, between boards full of poems and drawings that are too hard to see in the growing darkness.

"Sixteen degrees," George says. "Steady temperature, no malaise or miasma. Who has the gum this time?"

"Me," you say, and your voice echoes slightly.

The classroom itself is moderately sized, packed with tables and chairs, but it's the only one, judging from the only other rooms around being a staff room, a small canteen area, and toilets. Small town, small school.

Lucy calls from one corner of the room, "Fourteen degrees."

"Sixteen," Lockwood says from over near the entrance to the classroom.

"Sixteen," George says parallel.

"Ten," you shout in the final corner, close to the staff room door and the teacher's desk. "Little bit of miasma."

You chew on a piece of gum to keep the bitter taste out of your mouth and wish, despite the summer heat, that you'd brought a coat with you.

"Death glows near where you're standing, (name)," Lockwood says. "At least eight."

An iron circle is set up close to your corner after pushing tables and chairs out of the way, and George places a dim lantern inside it, along with the duffle bags. For extra precaution, another layer of iron chains surrounds the circle.

"Hear anything, you two?" Lockwood asks, glancing between you and Lucy.

"Nothing yet," Lucy says, and you shake your head in agreement.

The silence makes you uneasy as you slowly patrol the area, flashing your torchlight over everything, trying to find out what the source could be.

For a while, the four of you sit in the iron circle, drinking your melted milkshakes and tea, munching away on the snacks you made sure to pack. The room grows darker and darker until there's only a small circle of light from the lantern, kept low to encourage the appearance of the Visitors.

Suddenly, Lucy's head snaps to the left. "Do you hear that?"

You stop eating, focusing on using your Talents and, sure enough, a faint sound creeps into your ears.

"- Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven -"

"Prayers," you murmur. "It's the nuns. They're here."

"Apparition appearing," Lockwood says.

A faint glow appears on the other side of the room. You all stand, turning to look at it. A nun, only a few years older than you, hovers between the desks, careful not to touch them, praying softly as she cries. She pays no attention to the four of you, focused solely on her prayer.

George points. "Another one."

Over to the left of the first, another nun appears, looped in the same situation as her sister, praying and crying. Slowly, the voices become louder, and their crying becomes clearer as more and more appear all across the room.

"Six of them," Lucy says. "But, where are the -"

A scream only Lucy and you can hear deafens you, and you stumble backwards. Your foot catches on one of the chains, and you trip over it, falling out of the circle. Before Lockwood is able to grab you and hoist you back inside, the sounds increase by tenfold, even more horrific than before. You can hear their sobs, their screams of agony, their desperate prayers to be saved that go unheard and then, finally, one more death loop.

"Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive others," an ominous, scratchy voice says, soon joined by a second.

You latch onto Lockwood when you regain your footing, unable to let go as you stare at the two apparitions slowly approaching the iron circle.

Two more nuns, their robes rustling in a non-existent breeze. One wears a cross around her neck. Her face would've been beautiful, once, but it's hard to tell with the blood covering it. With a start, you realise that one of her eyes is missing, and a number of scars cover her face. The other nun is free of blood, but her neck is bent at an awkward angle, and her head lolls slightly as if her neck has been broken. Her eyes are unseeing, but you can still feel her gaze.

"Wraiths," you say. "You said you fought of fourteen once, right?"

"Well, sort of," Lockwood says. "Lucy was right. Fittes may have come along and held them off."

"It shouldn't be too bad," George says, but he doesn't sound too confident. "Only two of them. The rest are Type Ones."

Lucy swears. "Type Ones who have the room surrounded."

It's a struggle to quench your fear, but you manage, slowly letting go of Lockwood's arm. "Plan? And don't say improvise."

He smiles. "You know me too well, (name)."

"Plan?" Lucy repeats, a little more urgently. The Wraiths have come even closer, a mere foot or two away from the iron circle.

"George and (name), you find the source. Lucy, you think you can communicate with these things?"

She scowls. "I'll try."

"It was nice knowing you guys," George grumbles.

You look at Lockwood, clutching his hand without even meaning to. "Don't be reckless."

He grins, squeezing your hand softly, and it gives you confidence. "When am I ever reckless?"

Before you can say always, he leaps out of the circle, drawing the attention of the Wraiths. Lucy follows shortly after, and they make their way over to the other side of the room, shouting and throwing salt bombs to keep them distracted.

"See if you can hear anything," George says. "We might have a better chance if you can get any clues from that."

Eyeing the Type Ones nearby, you drown out the sounds around you. The screaming arises again, but you force your way through it, searching for anything else. You're vaguely aware of the sound of fighting a little bit away, and the quiet crying and prayers still continue. And, then, there it is. Someone speaking, her voice filled with confidence and vigour.

"Sounds like... like a Bible verse. Lamentations - that's a verse, right?"

The sound of George's feet scuffling brings you back to reality, and you see that he has darted over to the teacher's desk. He flings papers off the table's surface, throws drawers open and scavenges through them.

Meanwhile, you draw your rapier. The Type Ones are drawing ever nearer, curious. Over at the other side of the room, Lockwood and Lucy are holding off the Wraiths, but it seems to be proving hard - the Type Twos' attention is wavering, flickering over to George.

"You might want to hurry up," you say over your shoulder. "You're starting to draw a lot of attention."

"I'm trying!"

With a grumble, you rush around the desk, crouching down to help the search.

Not even a minute before Lockwood yells, "(name)! George!"

All of a sudden, the table flies backwards, slamming you both into the wall. You can't help but cry out in pain, stuck underneath the weight of the wood. What business does a teacher have needing such a heavy desk?

But, then, there it is.

"The net!" you shout, more winded than you realised. "We need the net! Throw it!"

George's eyes catch where you're looking, and he starts trying to push the desk off you both. With it on top of your legs, it means you can't get into the last drawer - the one holding an aged copy of the Bible.

The sound of metal links hitting the wall sounds above you and, as dual screeches of rage fill the room, you grasp the net tightly, using all your strength to push the desk up, and shove the net into the drawer.

All sounds fade away, and the room becomes dark once more.

Shoes squeak on the floor, and then Lockwood's and Lucy's faces appear, dusted in salt. Together, the four of you manage to stand the desk back up.

With help from Lockwood, you stand on shaky legs, breathing hard. George is not better.

"What took so long?" Lucy asks, but there's no anger in her voice, just relief.

"You know when you're looking for something and it shows up in the last place you check?" you say. "That."

Lockwood still hasn't let go of you, and the warmth of his hands is a welcome feeling. "Well, they're gone now. Are you both alright?"

"Sore," George grumbles. "Stupid ghosts."

Unsure of whether it was George's words or the relief of being alive, you all laugh, the sound reverberating off the walls. You find yourself leaning into Lockwood's side, either for his warmth or the comfort of a living body, but you don't mind. Actually, you quite like it.

"So, have you made your decision?"

You open your eyes, trying to make it look like you weren't just falling asleep on Lockwood's sofa. The fire is just so warm, and the tea you drank in seconds was awfully calming.

"I have."

"And?"

Looking at him, you have to suppress your smile. Something about his smile, the subdued excitement of it, and this unpolished look of his - his tied loosened, the top few buttons of his shirt undone, and his hair slightly ruffled - has your stomach doing flips.

"I'll join Lockwood and Co."

The grin that splits his face lights up something inside of you. In the year or so you knew him before 'The Incident', as you call it, and then the past month spent working with him, you've never seen such pure elation on his face.

"Really?" he says.

You nod. "Really. Figure I might as well. Business is slow otherwise and, I have to admit, cases with you lot are quite fun, even if I'm getting accosted by tables or thrown out of windows."

As you sit up, he moves so that he's sitting beside you. You can feel the warmth and happiness radiating off of him, and it makes you happy, seeing him that way. His hand closes around yours, calloused and strong, but his grip is gentle. It sends sparks coursing up your veins. No one but him has ever touched you so carefully, so intimately.

"You won't regret this," he promises. He's awfully close.

You grin. "I better not. I don't really fancy becoming a freelancer again. Terrible pay."

He laughs, and your heart skips a beat, strangely enough. "I'll make sure you're awarded the correct pay for someone of your high status."

Now you're laughing, too.

Slowly, you turn your hand in his until your palms are facing, and you feed your fingers between his. The touch is enough to have your heart hammering in your chest. His eyes, so dark as they look into yours, sparkle, and it's something you don't think you'll ever tire of seeing.

Well, in all reality, you don't think you'll ever tire of seeing him.

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