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rustedhearts · 1 year

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Got It Bad (Boxer!Steve x Librarian!Fem!reader)

summary: steve's sudden rise to pro-boxing fame comes with a change of scenery, and new (old) friends

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

♡ the steve collection ♡

♡ the rockstar!eddie setlist by @carolmunson ♡

warnings: a dash of angst, the return of our lovable rockstar (actually our first time meeting him in this au though), a smidge of smut, mention of alcohol, mention of drugs/addiction.

a/n: for reference, libby is 19, steve is 23, eddie is 25

february, 1990

Steve's rise to fame came faster than either of you could imagine.

The man himself seemed unprepared for how quickly endorsements flocked to him, willing to make up contracts and pay him a large chunk of change to promote them on his his first hop around the country. Steve signed a ten month contract at the end of December that went into affect New Year's day: his legal agreement to professionally beat the shit out of people on camera and make money doing it. His first televised fight was at the end of January, and he was a nervous wreck the whole month leading up to it.

When he inevitably won, he spent a little too much money on celebratory champagne and a hotel room, where you spent an entire weekend living a life you just couldn't get used to. Chocolate-covered strawberries, room service, sex all day, rose-petal baths, and everyone willing to make your stay as comfortable as possible. It didn't seem real, all this attention.

Now that he was making a name for himself—and making money he didn't know what to do with—he needed a manager. Big, his coach, made some calls and found Mikey Santorini, an LA based manager willing to take Steve on.

And for the promise you made to each other? Well, you didn't break it. Maybe that was the problem.

You told the library you'd be back soon, but you knew that was a lie. They made you a "bon voyage" basket, full of special edition covers of your favorite books and handmade bookmarks. You cried when your coworker, Lisa, presented it to you. The library wasn't just a job—it was your safe haven. You'd memorized every aisle, knew where every author lied. You had no idea when you'd see it again.

"We can visit a library in every city, I promise, baby," Steve told you when you came to his apartment sniffling.

You tried not to dwell on how easily he brushed aside the fact that you were putting your career on hold for him. You tried not to stop and think about that for too long, either. You loved Steve, didn't that matter more?

On the first of February, you said goodbye to your family.

Steve carried your luggage down the stairs from your bedroom. Your parents and younger brother, Nick, lined up near the front door, watching silently as he came in and out. Every time he hurried down the snow-coated front steps, your bedroom looked a little emptier.

When the last of it was in Steve's hands, you trudged down after him, heart tugging at the sight of your family all huddled together. Your mother wasn't doing much to conceal her tears, though your father seemed to be doing his best to console her. Nick looked unimpressed, a bored expression plastered across his chubby cheeks—but you knew him better than that, and those big eyes said it all. He was just as sad as you were to say goodbye.

Steve stopped near the front door, turning to flash you a small smile. "I'll give you a minute, okay?"

You nodded, accepting his gentle peck on the mouth. You watched him go, pulling the screen door closed behind him to bring warmth back to the house. A black SUV sat on the curb, supervised by Big in the driver seat. You only had a few hours before you had to be on the road. It would take all day to drive to California from here.

Rubbing your slick palms on your denim thighs, you turned to face your family.

"Um, so...this is it, I guess."

Your mother sniffled, wiping at her glistening cheeks. Her wedding ring glistened in the morning light. When she lunged forward and wrapped her arms around you, your heart burst. She smelled just how she always did, her perfume sweet and soothing, her hair drenched in the same hairspray she'd been using since you were a girl. Her sweater was soft, her skin warm, and you could feel the cool metal of the necklace she never took off pressing against your neck.

"I can't believe my baby girl is leaving," she hiccuped.

Your father reached forward and pinched the back of your mother's sweater, gently guiding her away from you. Tears pooled in your eyes and lodged in your throat, but you swallowed them down as your father opened his arms. You knew if you cried, so would your father, and then they'd never let you leave. But it suddenly felt so real, this departure.

"Call us every day, okay, pumpkin?" Your father muttered against the top of your hair.

You nodded, pressing your cheek to his chest, squeezing your arms tight around his stomach. He rubbed your back for a moment before letting go with a kiss to the head. You knew it was for his own good that he didn't hold on for too long.

You turned to Nick with a grin, punching his arm as hard as you could. He scowled, rubbing at it with a yelp.

"Gonna miss me, squirt?"

Nick rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure. Whatever."

You swallowed hard, chest growing tighter by the second. He was only a freshman in high school, and you grew up looking forward to helping him through it. Now, you wouldn't be here to see what sort of shit he got into, or bail him out of any trouble he'd inevitably get roped into. You'd miss his first homecoming, his first football game, his first girlfriend.

"I'll miss you," you admitted.

Nick's eyes cast down at his socked feet, arms dropping to his sides. He balled his hands into fists, and you knew he was inches away from tears.

"Whatever. Don't die, I guess."

You giggled. "Okay."

"Hey." Steve came rushing back into the house, cheeks pink from the wind, your luggage shoved into the trunk of the SUV. "Ready to go?"

You nodded, flashing your family another smile. "I guess I'll see you guys soon. I'll call the minute we get there. Steve's fight is on channel three, you can watch it!"

Steve cocked a sheepish grin, crossing his arms over his chest. Your mother barely glanced at him, reaching out to give you one last firm squeeze and a kiss on the cheek. You didn't even mind the glossy lip print she left in her wake.

Your father reached out and clasped Steve on the shoulder.

"You take good care of my girl, you hear me? If I find out anything happened to her, I swear to fucking god—"

"—Dad!"

Steve remained steadily stoic under your father's disapproving frown and sharp glare. "I understand, sir. I'd never let anything happen to her, I swear."

Your father nodded curtly before releasing Steve. Steve's hand instantly sought the small of your back, pulling you into him gently. You waved at your family, blowing your mother a kiss.

"Bye, I love you guys."

On your way down the street, you watched your mother cry in the front window, and your father wrap his arms around her.

♡ ♡

You had three days before the fight, though they all seemed jam-packed with events and training. You barely had a second to unpack your clothes at the hotel before you were being hauled off to another sweaty, humid gym.

But on the second day, Steve woke up early and rolled toward your side of the bed, smacking kisses all over your bare neck. You squirmed in your sleep, waking with a gasp when his teeth sank into your throat.

"Steve," you squeaked, sighing contentedly when he tugged you flush against his bare chest.

"Morning, my angel," he murmured into your bare skin.

Half-asleep and bleary, a hum rumbled through your throat, hand rising to bat around for Steve's fluffy hair. When you found it, you pushed your fingers through the heap of it, stroking for your own comfort. Steve nuzzled further into your neck, unable to control himself from pressing another eager kiss to the underside of the jaw. You smelled so good in the morning, and you skin was always so warm and soft.

"Morning, Stevie."

Your voice sent a jolt through his chest. He smiled to himself, tightening his arms around your waist. He couldn't believe this was his life.

"Got a call from an old buddy ," he announced, playing with the satin of your sleep tank. "He lives in California now, said he wants to get together and catch up. Invited us to his band practice today."

You hummed, rubbing at your eyes. You still weren't used to sleeping anywhere other than Steve's lumpy mattress at his old apartment, or the same bed you'd been sleeping in since you were young. Sleep didn't come easy away from home.

"He's in a band?" A yawn split your mouth open. You tossed around a moment, still caged in Steve's arms, until you were on your back.

You pried your eyes open and smiled at Steve, reaching up to scratch at the stubble on his jaw with your nails. He eased into it like a cat. He forced his eyes open, propping himself up on one elbow to gaze down at you. Fondness drenched his features, eyes twinkling with a look only you were lucky enough to see. He swept two fingers across your forehead to brush your hair out of your eyes, letting them drag down your cheek gently.

"Yep, ever since Hawkins days."

Your brows jumped. "Oh, he's from Hawkins, too?"

Steve pinched your chin between his thumb and knuckle, tipping your head up to bare your mouth to him.

"Yep." He bent and pressed your mouths together. "Went..." Another kiss, head tipping to explore different angles of your mouth. "...to high school..." He flicked his tongue along your bottom lip and nipped at it. "...together."

You squirmed on the mattress below him, cheeks warming and thighs squeezing together. Your fingers dug into his bulging biceps with need as he situated himself over you. Your thighs stung with the stretch needed to accommodate him.

"Can't wait to meet him."

Steve lowered his pelvis to press flush against yours, snatching a sharp gasp from your throat. His erection throbbed against your panties, satin sleep shorts abandoned on the floor from last night. He smirked at the little sound, running the tip of his nose along your collarbones, blowing hot air across your tender morning skin. He had you shivering like the cold and he'd barely even touched you.

"Mhm, later. Right now, I gotta take care a' my girl."

He disappeared beneath the covers, wedged between your legs thrown over his shoulders. He spent thirty minutes suffocating between them just to hear you whine and cry, and didn't let up until your face was burning red.

♡ ♡

After three hours in the gym and a quick shower, you climbed into the SUV with Steve to meet his friend. It was much warmer here in California—you weren't used to having bare shoulders and exposed legs in February. You wore one of Steve's favorite dresses, a piece from your mother's closet that she gifted to you when she could no longer fit into it. Steve said it made you look like "one of those disco girls, but in a really hot way."

You expected to arrive at a shabby house with a garage full of instruments, so all you could do was frown in confusion when Steve pulled against the curb of The Troubadour.

"Um...Steve?"

Steve popped the glovebox, rifling through the mess of papers and cassettes before pulling out his sunglasses. He shoved them over his eyes and slammed it closed. "Huh?"

You were slow to take your seatbelt off, still glancing through the window with a pout. "What band did you say your friend was in?"

Steve hopped out of the car, and you instantly pulled the visor down to check your lipstick and the state of your hair before he reached your side. When he helped you out of the car, he was quick to wrap his arm around your shoulders and guide you toward the door, though he hadn't answered your question.

Inside, any glimpse of the California sunlight disappeared into darkness. The stage was massive, much too big for a small time band, and you found your eyes bouncing around frantically toward each band poster on the wall for some sort of hint. Steve seemed to know exactly where he was going, though, and guided you toward a door just off the stage.

The plucky twang of guitar strings and the rowdy chorus of male laughter echoed from a room down the hall. Your nerves suddenly felt cold. This was a big time band, and you were just some small town girl.

Sunglasses and brown bomber jacket on, Steve stomped down the hall with you under his arm like he'd been here all his life. You admired that air of confidence and ease.

Steve shoved the door at the end of the hall open, revealing a small cinderblock room with a sectional, tables of alcohol and food wrappers, and a gaggle of men in black leather.

Corroded Coffin.

"Holy shi—"

"Harrington! You made it, man."

Eddie Munson, frontman for Corroded Coffin, came staggering toward Steve with his arms out. Steve kept one around you as he clasped Eddie on the back; two large, leather-padded smacks rang through the room. Your cheeks suddenly felt very warm and swollen. You glanced past Eddie toward the rest of the band, talking amongst themselves and nursing beer. They all glistened with a sheen of sweat, and the room reeked with a haze of alcohol and cigarettes.

You never thought you'd see them outside of the poster on your closet door or the album on your bookshelf.

"And who's this cutie?"

You turned, feeling the heat of the sun gather in your face at the sight of two black eyes steadied on you. Eddie's hair was as large and wild as ever, eyes rimmed with smudged eyeliner, a heavy silver chain around his neck, another one clinking on the low belt loop of his jeans when he crossed his arms and smirked at you. You swallowed, pressing closer to Steve.

"This is my girl, Libby. Libby, this is—"

"—I know who you are," you squeaked. You seemed to be growing hotter by the second, though that seemed out of the realm of possibility.

Eddie's brows shot up, and he tossed a quick glance toward Steve. "That so? Harrington, you didn't tell me you caught yourself a little metalhead."

Steve pushed his glasses to the top of his head, sliding his hand down to your waist. "News to me, Munson."

To ease the sudden stiffness between the two hulking men, you shot your hand out toward Eddie with a saccharine smile. "Nice to meet you."

Eddie's laughter made you start to pull back, but he suddenly bent at the waist and accepted your hand, shaking it with a gentle bow. "And you, sweetheart. C'mon, take a seat. I wanna hear all about this fight, Harrington."

Steve pulled you onto his lap when he sank down on the leather sectional, and you were slightly grateful for it after seeing the sight of those sticky cushions. His big hands splayed across your bare thighs, pulling the hem of your dress down a little further.

Eddie sat across from you, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, ringed hands reaching toward a bottle of Jack Daniels on the floor. He pulled the top and poured a stream into his mouth. You inwardly winced when he gulped it down like water, wiping his shiny mouth with the back of his palm.

Eddie held the bottle out, but Steve waved his hand dismissively. Eddie angled the top of the bottle toward you, brows raised. Steve's hand tightened on your thigh, and you smiled sheepishly.

"Oh, no thank you."

If Eddie thought you were lame for denying the alcohol, he didn't show it. Instead, he took another swig and set the bottle on the floor.

"So," he mused, easing back on the sofa, "how'd you two meet?"

Steve drummed his fingers on your thigh, making small tapping sounds, and you slid your fingers through his to interlock them.

"At a party," Steve replied.

Eddie stretched his arm along the back of the sofa. The band lingered in the corner, chatting amongst themselves, though curiously glancing at the pair of you on the sofa. You averted your gaze when the one with shaggy hair dropped his eye in a wink, cheeks burning. If Steve had seen, you knew he would've tossed you aside and gotten his knuckles bloody in a heartbeat.

"Oh! Still the life of the party, Harrington?" Eddie snickered.

You giggled, but Steve only mustered a combination of a smirk and a scowl. "She's from Hawkins, too."

Eddie's eyes rounded with delight, plump lips parting with genuine surprise. He turned to you, and you squished a little closer to Steve, who tapped the side of your thigh with his open palm. "Get my lighter for me, baby?"

You nodded, dipping your hand into the inner pocket of his jacket to fish out the silver zippo. In that time, he'd swiped a cigarette from the table in a random pack, and you brought the lighter to his mouth where the cigarette waited.

"If you're from Hawkins, how come I don't remember you?" Eddie inquired, watching the interaction with amusement.

You snapped the lighter shut and dropped it back into Steve's pocket, watching him inhale a deep drag before blowing it away toward the door. The stench of tobacco used to make you sick, but now it smelled like Steve.

You turned to Eddie and grinned, full-cheeked and sweet. "Oh, you were already in the band by the time I got to high school, and Steve had graduated."

Eddie's smile slipped, eyes sliding to Steve beside you with a slow cock of his head. You tried not to let your smile mimic Eddie's—of disappointment and dismay—and tapped Steve's shoulder.

"I'll be right back."

You placed your heels on the floor to push off and stand up, but Steve tugged you back gently by the arm, cigarette propped in the corner of his mouth. Brows furrowed and lips pulled into a frown, he shook his head.

"Where y' goin', angel?"

You giggled nervously, the back of your neck gathering sweat. "Just to the bathroom, Stevie."

Eddie snickered, sliding a cigarette out of the pack on the table. He brought it to his mouth with his eyes trained solely on the two of you. Steve released your arm and you stood to your feet, bending to press a quick kiss to his cheek.

"Be right back, promise," you cooed.

You were a few steps from the door when you heard Eddie chuckle. "Yeah, Stevie, she promises."

You skittered down the hall toward the ladies' room, closing the door and sliding the lock over.

While you were gone, Eddie lit his cigarette and leaned forward again, hunched over his lap toward Steve.

"Harrington, how the fuck old is this girl?" His voice was low and grumbly.

Steve rolled his eyes, plucking his sunglasses from the crown of his head to tuck them into his jacket. "She's nineteen, Munson, lay the fuck off."

Eddie chuckled, spluttering clouds of smoke into the air.

"Harrington, be honest with me, did you 'nap her?"

Steve shook his head, tonguing away a sideways grin. It'd been a long time since he'd seen Eddie. Though they went to high school together, they never ran in the same crowds. It wasn't until Steve graduated that he met Eddie at a party, woozy out on coke and Jack with a girl under each arm. At first, they just nodded to each other at parties. But when they got to talking, they realized they could make each other laugh, and bonded over their mutual love for women. That was all it took for a friendship to form.

It seemed Eddie had fallen drunk to the rock and roll life. Steve eyed the end of a tied baggie hanging out of Eddie's jacket wearily. He'd been here with his friend before.

"Nah, man, she uh...she's really great," Steve admitted, trying not to let it show just how much he truly ached for you.

"God, she must be. Callin' you Stevie, laying all over your lap. You got it bad, Harrington," Eddie teased in a musical tone.

Steve tapped his ashes toward the floor, shooting Eddie a glare.

"Not bad enough to stop me kickin' your ass."

Eddie's hands flew up with a giggle. "Oh-ho-ho. C'mon, lemme see those jabs, King Steve. I heard you're taking bodies in the ring."

Eddie leaned over the table, a quick fist appearing to shoot out and punch Steve's arm. Steve quickly retaliated, smacking Eddie upside the head in a much more humiliating act that had Eddie's cheeks burning pink.

The door chittered on its hinges, and all heads turned to watch you quietly tiptoe in. You kept your eyes on the floor the whole brisk journey toward Steve, taking tiny but quick steps. You instantly slid back into his lap, comforted by the weight of his arm around your waist, the callused feel of his hand on your thigh.

Eddie leaned back into the sofa again, all wide shoulders and black hair. He hollowed his cheeks around his cigarette and pulled at his jacket until his arms were free of it, revealing two ivory biceps cut with lean muscle. You instantly burned at the sight of them, scrawled with tattoos, and placed your eyes on your lap.

"So, what d' you do, sweet thing? You in college?" Eddie asked, words escaping him with a coil of smoke.

You glanced at Steve, shaking your head in response. Steve was as stoically blank as ever, and you weren't sure if Eddie's use of pet names bothered him or not.

"Um, no, I'm a librarian—"

"—ooh," Eddie interrupted the moment your occupation left your mouth, lips pouted in an 'o' shape, brows furrowed and eyes scrunched, "sexy."

Steve's fingers dug into your thigh, his spare hand ripping the cigarette from his mouth. You barely had a moment to turn your head and clock the angled position of his brows, the crease in his forehead, before he was pointing his cigarette at Eddie.

"Munson." The single utterance was sharp with warning.

The room went quiet for a split second. You brought your hand to the back of Steve's neck, playing with the ends of his hair, and Eddie's face slowly relaxed into another wide, dimpled smile. His hands rose again, though this time in surrender.

The men shared a look of understanding that went unseen by you. But Steve could see it, the appreciative cock of Eddie's head, the small 'I'm happy for you' coded in the way he nodded. They both knew, deep down, that all Steve ever wanted was to know he could be loved.

"So," Eddie cleared his throat, clasping his hands together with a sharp smack, "you guys stickin' around for the show tonight?"

You visibly perked up, grin returning with a twitch of your lips. Before Steve could even dismiss the idea, you pushed your fingers through his hair and turned to Eddie.

"I'd love to!"

Eddie mirrored your grin, his all dimples and charm, and turned his attention to your scowling boyfriend. Only Steve could see through his friendly joy, and note the mocking amusement that lingered beneath.

"She'd love to, Harrington," Eddie cooed.

Cheeks burning, you peered down at Steve with big, round eyes. "It'll be fun, Steve. Beats being cooped up in that hotel room all night."

You stroked the back of his head languidly, feathering his satin locks between your fingers. You could see the gears turning in his head, thinking over your request. His fingers drummed on your thigh again, arm pressing into your spine. Steve hated saying no to you, but he wasn't sure he could handle a crowded club full of screeching guitars and girls too young to be throwing bras and panties at Eddie.

"Ah, nobody wants that! Come on, Harrington, your girl wants to rock!" Eddie reached out and slapped Steve's knee with the back of his hand.

Steve made a "psh" sound, pinching the bridge of his nose. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, sweet and scented of vanilla flavored lipgloss, and Steve's resolve fizzled into nothing.

"Fuck—fine, whatever," he grumbled.

That earned him a soft squeal of excitement from you, and his face scrunched when you grabbed it with both hands to plant a sticky kiss on his mouth. Eddie grinned at it, the way you could squish Steve's cheeks together and smear pink glitter across his face without being reprimanded for it. It was the clear the hulking athlete had it bad for you.

As Steve gently pulled your hands away, the trill of a phone broke through the muffled chatter and low strum of guitars in the dressing room. Before either of you could stop to wonder where it was coming from, Eddie leapt from the couch. He toppled over bottles on the floor, half tripping on the end of the coffee table on his way to the phone hanging on the wall.

"Hey gorgeous," he gasped into the receiver, slamming himself against the wall, out of breath and eager.

The rest of the band assumed Eddie's side of the sectional, and it was the shaggy blond, Gareth, that leaned forward and grinned. "That's gotta be Rink."

You pulled your brows together. "Rink?"

"Stella? Stella Rink? His girlfriend," Gareth explained.

Your head snapped over to Steve, eyes blown wide. "Stella Rink? Eddie's dating Stella Rink?"

Steve shrugged, pulling the hem of your dress down again. He glared toward the band, whose eyes were skimming over the shape of you.

"Dunno who that is, angel."

You cocked your head at Steve, eyes rolling. "We just saw one of her movies last week. She was the main character, Steve, the really pretty one."

Steve let his head fall back against the leather couch cushions, fixing you with an unamused look.

"Now, why would I be lookin' at another girl when I got you, hmm?"

Your eyes rolled again on their own, though your cheeks grew sore from your giddy smile. Steve ate it up, wrapping a hand around the underside of your jaw to pull you down and attach your mouths together. The band of men on the other couch became forgotten at the taste of foreign cigarettes on his mouth, the stiffness of his lap beneath you.

"You're so full of shit," you giggled against the swipe of his tongue.

Steve nipped at your bottom lip and shrugged. "S' the truth. Can't deny the truth, baby."

The phone returned to the cradle on the wall with a bell's chime, and you pulled away from Steve just in time to see Eddie trudging back. Steve brought his arm up to rest around your shoulders, yanking you down until your head knocked into his.

"How's America's sweetheart, Munson?" Gareth snickered, watching Eddie pout.

"Too busy," the rockstar huffed.

You gnawed on your lip a moment, cheeks warm again. "So, you're really dating Stella Rink?"

Eddie spun to face you with such fervor that you recoiled into Steve, and his hand tightened on your thigh to pull you closer.

"Dating her? Honey, that's my wife."

Confusion twisted on your face, but the band just snickered at Eddie's whole-hearted declaration.

"They've been dating for, like, three months," Jeff, the bassist, chuckled.

Eddie waved his hands, brushing off the band's dismissal. He perched on the arm of the couch on the other side of Steve, all pale limbs and black attire. He placed one foot on the cushion next to Steve and bent over his knee, speaking to the pair of you like telling a secret.

"Well, when you know, you know. Right, Harrington?"

At this angle, Steve got a better look at the baggie in Eddie's pocket—a familiar white powder coated the plastic. Steve tore his eyes slowly away from the baggie and met Eddie's gaze, making sure the shaggy-haired man knew what Steve had been looking at.

Eddie swallowed, smile slipping, but Steve's eyes were steadily narrowed with suspicious warning.

"Right," Steve agreed.

They continued to stare at each other—Steve unnervingly calm and Eddie a little squirmy—while you murmured amongst the band members about Stella and Eddie, and how bloody Steve's fights usually got. They were surprisingly curious about how violent boxing could get.

But Steve put an end to the conversation with a gentle tap to your thigh, pushing off the back of the couch to sit up and guide you with him.

"C'mon, baby, you wanna go eat?"

The question seemed rhetorical, the both of you already on your feet and your hand grasped tightly in Steve's before you could even excuse yourself from the band conversation. You waved goodbye to them, pairing it with a cute, rosy-cheeked smile that made them swoon.

"See you guys tonight, right?" Eddie asked, following the pair of you toward the door. "And we should get together again sometime, Harrington. It's been a while."

A big, ringed hand clasped down on Steve's shoulder, and the boxer stopped short in the doorway to turn to his friend. You stopped with him, leaning into his side. For a moment, you were certain they'd have another vague and ominous staring match. But then Steve leaned forward, jerked his chin toward Eddie's legs, and blinked blankly at Eddie.

"You watchin' that?"

Eddie blinked back, his scoff a secondary, delayed reaction yanked from him by disbelief. He glanced at you for a moment, uncertain how much he wanted to say in front of you, and placed his hand on the door.

"I got it covered, Harrington, but thanks."

His tone was sharp but not cruel, and it took you a moment to even pick up on the underlying stiffness between the two men. Clearly, there was something wrong, but you just couldn't figure out what. Did Eddie have an accident, were his legs okay? The dimpled grin he flashed Steve seemed irritated.

Steve clapped Eddie on the arm: a friendly, smidge-too-hard pat. "Alright, man. Catch you guys tonight, gotta go get some earplugs."

The irritation was slow to melt from Eddie's smile, but he chuckled all the same. You cleared your throat, raising your hand in a tiny wave toward Eddie.

"Bye, Eddie, it was nice to meet you."

Eddie bent at the waist again in another bow, and you couldn't help but giggle dazedly. "And you. See you tonight, sweetheart."

♡ ♡

At dinner, Steve smoked another cigarette on the patio of a Mexican restaurant, sunglasses shielding him from the evening sun. He hadn't said much since you left Troubadour, and you could only sip your lemonade for so long in silence before you huffed.

"Baby, what's wrong? Are you mad we're going to the concert tonight, because we don't have to if you really don't want to."

Steve tapped his cigarette over the pavement, head shaking. "Nah, angel, s' not it."

You frowned, reaching over to grab his hand on the table. His watch knocked on the white cloth, and you traced your finger over the leather band.

"Then what is it?"

Steve took a drag of the cigarette and blew a thin stream of smoke toward the street.

"Nothin', baby. Just a headache."

You nodded, flashing a tight-lipped smile. You dipped into your purse on the chair beside you, fishing out the metal pill container you always carried on hand. You swiped two pain pills for him and placed them beside his Coke. Steve followed your movements, a huff of laughter shooting through his nose. He placed his cigarette in his mouth, refusing to drop your hand, and collected them in his hand.

"Thanks, angel."

You beamed. "Of course, Stevie. Now come on, I wanna go to the hotel and get ready. I can't believe I'm finally seeing Corroded Coffin live."

Steve stamped out his cigarette and plopped the pills in his mouth. He watched you, unable to contain your ecstatic smile, though you tried by pursing your lips and gazing down at your plate. He'd been watching you since you sat down—he watched you gaze around Sunset Strip like you were in another world, wide-eyed and curious.

He said nothing of Eddie's drug habit, or his mother's when he was a child that made him weary around Eddie because of it. Steve said nothing about hearing you sniffle in the bathroom at one a.m because you tried calling your parents and they didn't answer, and you missed them so bad that you seemed off in your own world ever since you got here.

Because right now, you were happy. And that's all that mattered to Steve.

"Let's go, baby."

♡ ♡

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hymnism · 16 days

Note

release the list

(i feel like i should mention these are all games ive personally played so if any of these make you go "why isn't [GAME] on here it's probably cuz i haven't played it. anyway)

(obligatory mention to hades/disco elysium/omori since they're some of my favorite games but im sure everyone already knows about them. they are lovely games and you should play them 👍)

darkest dungeon ($25) - turn based roguelike where you recruit mercenaries and send them on dungeon explorations and make sure they don't die of stress or starvation alongside the regular monster attacks. notoriously difficult. imagine bloodborne but turn based

ftl: faster than light ($10)- real time roguelike where you control a small crew and pilot a spaceship on the run from a rebel fleet. manage power and weapons on your own ship while targeting critical systems on the enemy

loop hero ($15)- a roguelike where your character will automatically walk in a loop while you use cards to add terrain with different effects such as spawning monsters to give you loot or increasing your healing. very unique with a beautiful pixel artstyle and banger soundtrack

moonlighter ($20)- a roguelike rpg where you go dungeon diving and try to bring back as much loot as you can so that you can sell it in your shop

shadows of doubt ($20)- early access. a first person sandbox detective simulator where each case is procedurally generated. randomly generates a town with npcs that all have names and addresses and relationships. put together clues from a crime scene and try to catch a killer before they strike again. work odd jobs between cases to keep yourself fed and housed

ultrakill ($25) fast paced first person shooter with a style system ala devil may cry. you play as a robot fighting through the layers of hell. mankind is dead. blood is fuel. hell is full

crypt of the necrodancer ($15)- a rhythm based roguelike dungeon crawler where you and your enemies are only allowed to move on beat. banger soundtrack goes without saying

everhood ($10)- a rhythm based rpg where you play as a red doll who had their arm stolen and is trying to get it back. battles involve moving between 5 lanes to avoid enemy attacks. if you like undertale you'll like this

spiritfarer ($30)- management and adventure game where you play as a spiritfarer who needs to care for spirits on her boat before leading them into the afterlife. incredibly charming and touching game. you will cry

let's school ($20)- management sim where you build and manage a school and help students graduate by setting up different courses. addicting and has a very cute artstyle

let's build a zoo ($20)- management sim where you. well where you build a zoo. a very silly game that includes a morality system where you can choose to be eco friendly and help repopulate endangered species or you can exploit your animals for their meat and produce. also has an animal splicing mechanic. haven't you ever wanted to make a giraffe with a duck head

the wandering village ($25)- early access. a city builder with the twist that you live on the back of a giant wandering beast named onbu. you help care for onbu as he wanders though different biomes that force you to adjust your resource production as some things become unavailable (such as water in a desert)

frostpunk ($30) a survival city builder where you build around a central core and try to prevent everyone from freezing to death in progressively colder temperatures

monster sanctuary ($20)- a metroidvania style creature collector with a unique combo meter that will continue to build and increase your damage based on the number of "hits" you can perform (healing buffs and shields also count as hits) and each monster has different skill trees that you can upgrade and customize

coral island ($30)- farming life sim with a unique underwater area. you work to help restore the island after and oil spill ruined the surrounding ocean. i should mention that although this game is technically not in early access it is still unfinished and missing large chunks of gameplay/interactions/story. however there is still a healthy amount of content and is still a fun game as it is

apico ($20)- a beekeeping sim where you keep bees to make and sell honey while also breeding and releasing them to help restore their numbers in the wild

spirittea ($20)- a management and life sim where you manage a bathhouse for ghosts and help the townsfolk who think they're haunted (they're right). basically a cross between stardew valley and spirited away

cloud meadow ($20)- early access. this is a porn game ⚠️ a farming sim where instead of regular animals you have anthro characters and you can breed them either yourself or with each other and have them help in combat or on your farm. very cute artstyle and amazing animation work

#looking for a new game ask sunny if their recommendation is a roguelike or management sim i laugh and say it's a good game sir look inside #it's a roguelike #asks

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thepastisalreadywritten · 8 months

Text

By Parissa DJangi

August 18, 2023

Some say he was a surgeon. Others, a deranged madman — or perhaps a butcher, prince, artist, or specter.

The murderer known to history as Jack the Ripper terrorized London 135 years ago this fall.

In the subsequent century, he has been everything to everyone, a dark shadow on which we pin our fears and attitudes.

But to five women, Jack the Ripper was not a legendary phantom or a character from a detective novel — he was the person who horrifically ended their lives.

“Jack the Ripper was a real person who killed real people,” reiterates historian Hallie Rubenhold, whose book, The Five, chronicles the lives of his victims. “He wasn’t a legend.”

Who were these women? They had names: Mary Ann “Polly” Nichols, Annie Chapman, Elizabeth Stride, Catherine Eddowes, and Mary Jane Kelly.

They also had hopes, loved ones, friends, and, in some cases, children.

Their lives, each one unique, tell the story of 19th-century London, a city that pushed them to its margins and paid more attention to them dead than alive.

Terror in Whitechapel

Their stories did not all begin in London, but they ended there, in and around the crowded corner of the metropolis known as Whitechapel, a district in London’s East End.

“Probably there is no such spectacle in the whole world as that of this immense, neglected, forgotten great city of East London,” Walter Bessant wrote in his novel All Sorts and Conditions of Men in 1882.

“It is even neglected by its own citizens, who had never yet perceived their abandoned condition.”

The “abandoned” citizens of Whitechapel included some of the city’s poorest residents.

Immigrants, transient laborers, families, single women, thieves — they all crushed together in overflowing tenements, slums, and workhouses.

According to historian Judith Walkowitz:

“By the 1880s, Whitechapel had come to epitomize the social ills of ‘Outcast London,’ a place where sin and poverty comingled in the Victorian imagination, shocking the middle classes."

Whitechapel transformed into a scene of horror when the lifeless, mutilated body of Polly Nichols was discovered on a dark street in the early morning hours of August 31, 1888.

She became the first of Jack the Ripper’s five canonical victims, the core group of women whose murders appeared to be related and occurred over a short span of time.

Over the next month, three more murdered women would be found on the streets of the East End.

They had been killed in a similar way: their throats slashed, and, in most cases, their abdomens disemboweled.

Some victims’ organs had been removed. The fifth murder occurred on November 9, when the Ripper butchered Mary Jane Kelly with such barbarity that she was nearly unrecognizable.

This so-called “Autumn of Terror” pushed Whitechapel and the entire city into a panic, and the serial killer’s mysterious identity only heightened the drama.

The press sensationalized the astonishingly grisly murders — and the lives of the murdered women.

Polly, Annie, Elizabeth, Catherine, and Mary Jane

Though forever linked by the manner of their death, the five women murdered by Jack the Ripper shared something else in common:

They were among London’s most vulnerable residents, living on the margins of Victorian society.

They eked out a life in the East End, drifting in and out of workhouses, piecing together casual jobs, and pawning their few possessions to afford a bed for a night in a lodging house.

If they could not scrape together the coins, they simply slept on the street.

“Nobody cared about who these women were at all,” Rubenhold says. “Their lives were incredibly precarious.”

Polly Nichols knew precarity well. Born in 1845, she fulfilled the Victorian ideal of proper womanhood when she became a wife at the age of 18.

But after bearing five children, she ultimately left her husband under suspicions of his infidelity.

Alcohol became both a crutch and curse for her in the final years of her life.

Alcohol also hastened Annie Chapman’s estrangement from what was considered a respectable life.

Annie Chapman was born in 1840 and spent most of her life in London and Berkshire.

With her marriage to John Chapman, a coachman, in 1869, Annie positioned herself in the top tier of the working class.

But her taste for alcohol and the loss of her children unraveled her family life, and Annie ended up in the East End.

Swedish-born Elizabeth Stride was an immigrant, like thousands of others who lived in the East End.

Born in 1843, she came to England when she was 22. In London, Stride reinvented herself time and time again, becoming a wife and coffeehouse owner.

Catherine Eddowes, who was born in Wolverhampton in 1842 and moved to London as a child, lost both of her parents by the time she was 15.

She spent most of her adulthood with one man, who fathered her children. Before her murder, she had just returned to London after picking hops in Kent, a popular summer ritual for working-class Londoners.

At 25, Mary Jane Kelly was the youngest, and most mysterious, of the Ripper’s victims.

Kelly reportedly claimed she came from Ireland and Wales before settling in London.

She had a small luxury that the others did not: She rented a room with a bed. It would become the scene of her murder.

Yet the longstanding belief that all of these women were sex workers is a myth, as Rubenhold demonstrates in The Five.

Only two of the women — Stride and Kelly — were known to have engaged in sex work during their lives.

The fact that all of them have been labeled sex workers highlights how Victorians saw poor, unhoused women.

“They have been systematically ‘othered’ from society,” Rubenhold says,"even though this is how the majority lived.”

These women were human beings with a strong sense of personhood. According to biographer Robert Hume, their friends and neighbors described them as “industrious,” “jolly,” and “very clean.”

They lived, they loved, they existed — until, very suddenly on a dark night in 1888, they did not.

A long shadow

The discovery of Annie Chapman’s body on September 8 heightened panic in London, since her wounds echoed the shocking brutality of Polly Nichols’ murder days earlier.

Investigators realized that the same killer had likely committed both crimes — and he was still on the loose. Who would he strike next?

In late September, London’s Central News Office received a red-inked letter that claimed to be from the murderer. It was signed “Jack the Ripper.”

Papers across the city took the name and ran with it. Press coverage of the Whitechapel Murders crescendoed to a fever pitch.

Newspapers danced the line between fact and fiction, breathlessly recounting every gruesome detail of the crimes and speculating with wild abandon about the killer’s identity.

Today, that impulse endures, and armchair detectives and professional investigators alike have proposed an endless parade of suspects, including artist Walter Sickert, writer Lewis Carroll, sailor Carl Feigenbaum, and Aaron Kosminski, an East End barber.

"The continued fascination with unmasking the murderer perpetuates this idea that Jack the Ripper is a game,” Rubenhold says.

She sees parallels between the gamification of the Whitechapel Murders and the modern-day obsession with true crime.

“When we approach true crime, most of the time we approach as if it was legend, as if it wasn’t real, as if it didn’t happen to real people.”

“These crimes still happen today, and we are still not interested in the victims,” Rubenhold laments.

The Whitechapel Murders remain unsolved after 135 years, and Rubenhold believes that will never change:

“We’re not going to find anything that categorically tells us who Jack the Ripper is.”

Instead, the murders tell us about the values of the 19th century — and the 21st.

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mayathescientist · 10 months

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hey tumblr! may I interest you in a guy who

1) lived with manfred von karma and kinda took care of the von karma kids

2) was a medical professional, a prosecutor, a criminal and a postman at different points in his life, some of it simultaneously

3) is a huge failure of a person and willingly a walking comic relief

WARNING: this post is about 2k words long so like Buckle Up. also this a followup to the post I made about him on this blog before! because a lot of people seemed to like it huh ( @aceoflilies) (drawing by @nebravsky I have my own drawings of him but hers is the best)

his name is umaru keigo (first name second name), I don't establish his exact age for my own comfort, but let's just say his backstory involves around fifteen years with mvk and he was already in his twenties when it started.

so, what happened exactly?

manfred didn’t actually want to take him in – at first. imagine, if a witness from your trial came to you on a recess, fell down on their knees and begged you for protection – protection from a criminal organization they _knowingly_ betrayed by testifying against. they are right in from of you, crying and shaking, saying they have nowhere to go, saying they'll be murdered, asking for your help – any help you can give. you don't have to let them stay with you – but they'll be useful if you do. but you are _manfred von karma_, just back from your vacation of shame you had to take after dl-6, your shoulder pain is still eating you alive, it's the first case you take after a vacation and you don't want it turning into a disaster and bring the entire mob into this – you've got enough on your plate already and enough reasons to refuse. the most obvious one is – it's only their responsibility they'll be eaten alive after trial, and court is not a place where things like this are resolved. but then this pathetic mess on the floor repeats they'll be of help and can repay you – they have skills – they're a doctor. then you stop for a second and consider. you don't need medical intervention – in fact, you actively avoid it – but your children might, and it would be pretty handy if you didn't have to send them to a public clinic each time. every time you stayed in a public hospital since the start of your career, a thousand eyes were glued to you. what if your children just recover quietly each time and don't have to show their imperfection? what if you had a _private medic_?

it didn't sound so bad, so manfred von karma decided to let him stay for a while – for as long as he would need to get back on his feet, which theoretically shouldn't be that much time. but if he has to stay for longer, he'd have to prove his worth and usefullness.

umaru didn't really have much of a choice, let's be real. either you get stomped to death by sharks with baseball bats or stay with this man and work for him. move to germany with him. spend years upon years slowly growing your roots into him.

the truth is, umaru wouldn't get back on his feet on his own. he got into crime in the first place, because he couldn't get employed after getting a diploma and now had to find something else to do and adjust to everyday life in the city he studied in – which wasn't his native city, but he couldn't go back to his hometown having failed his family. they had no place for an adult jobless man. they were raising new young kids and barely making it for themselves. he had nowhere to go back to and no considerably better option, than working for manfred von karma.

he had others things to do except working, – cleaning the house, even though it wasn't formally his responsibility, doing laundry, dishes, sometimes even cooking for von karma's children, if they were hungry and mvk himself wasn't home; chatting with the other housekeeper, a german lady, frau iren, making out time for his hobbies – for example, his herbarium, bowling and his favorite books; secretly steal books from von karma's shelves. but pretty soon he realized, that he was trapped.

pretty soon he found, that he was irrevocably losing parts of himself. was fading away.

the past without von karma, not even that distant yet, began to seem like a life that he never lived, felt like a fever dream. if it weren't for the von karma kids, he would have felt his life is absolutely pointless.

after all, the entire point of it was to help people. and manfred doesn't need help. (says he doesn't need help.) working in a public hospital is not an option after all his problems with law and a previous failure. and he just isn't good for anything else, really – just healing, jestering and bowing to kings.

manfred was his new king. umaru was grateful for his help, looked up to how manfred did his job and immensely respected him as a prosecutor, feared him and knew that manfred is the biggest person in his life right now. but there was one thing he couldn't overlook despite all of that. just like the previous king, manfred von karma was evil. keigo saw how he treats his children, setting them up to be rivals on a race to perfection, and couldn't interfere – could only be there for the kids and subtly let them know _he_ doesn't need them to be perfect, knowing its not enough – knowing that he is forever cemented as complicit.

that's why he did the best he could by putting on a clown face and just being their little jester to lighten up the mood. miles always just sort of tried to stay away from him, his offerings of help and silly jokes, but on the inside grew to really appreciate the fact that this person is always around; franziska kinda made him a scapegoat for all her anger as a child, since he was in a vulnerable position and the house and was such a person to just laugh it off anyway, but even though she would always give him the "foolish fool" treatment, she'd sometimes leave her pride at the door and come to him for help (mostly for medical issues).

he depended on their well-being to be okay and loved them too much for someone who was not really supposed to even speak with them unless they were sick. he watched them grow up and smiled at their victories.

and eventually, they Grew Up. eventually, everything came to turnabout goodbyes. and in one day, in a blink of an eye, without knowing or fully understanding why, umaru lost his job, his wall of protection from those who sought to revenge him, his normal everyday life and his illusion that he ever really knew manfred von karma.

shortly after aa1-4, miles told him to leave and, ideally, forget all the years he was forced to spend in this house. (miles didn't want him to know what he's going to do. thats partially why.) franziska has almost convinced herself she didn't need anyone's help by that time, so she acted like she didn't care. (it actually just wasn't The straw that broke the camel's back. it actually did hurt.)

and so, he really left!

in truth, when he was sneaking away books from von karma's shelves, he ended up reading a lot of law books – first on accident, then on purpose. he watched manfred von karma fight crime and deep inside himself, harbored an unachievable dream of one day becoming a prosecutor just like manfred to finally get his previous kings behind bars. he thought that maybe, if he would eventually be able to do this, he would redeem himself even a little. he held back for years, convinced by von karma he would most definitely just die on the streets if he ever left. but now he was ready to give it a shot, since he had nothing left to do. he went to a country with flexible politics regarding student age (its probably germany in that universe, considering how both franziska who became a prosecutor at 13 and klavier gavin, who had in 17, studied there). he took the law major.

when he comes back from studying, (phoenix is not disbarred and he won't be, this is my au I do what I want), and the events of a fancase unfold. this is the first case in court umaru ever takes, and his actions are controled by another person. miles was hurt during the investigation of it, and so keigo takes the case instead of him and takes care of him while he's not in court or investigating. but here's the thing – miles edgeworth still wanted to factually run the case. so all the facts discovered in the investigation umaru just reported to him without really making a case of his own, and then miles would make a theory for umaru to go to court with and after trials umaru would come to him with updates so that he could build a new theory. you can all imagine what his performance in court using someone else's theory you cant easily make changes to would be like; he tried to compensate by being funny about it and getting the defense to talk about unrelated (usually medical) things, but that didn't help hide the fact that he didn't do a single bit of thinking of his own. phoenix didn't even know he can be That annoyed by a prosecutor and just met him after a trial and said can you please go back to being a doctor. I call it umaru's puppet prosecutor era and I didn't really have to include it but I just! like it a lot

then the events of another fancase (like four of them actually?) unfold and it's too long and complicated to fully explain, especially in this already very long post, its just an au ive been doing with my brother who is absolutely wonderful, – what I wanted to say is, then the events of another fancase unfold, and umaru helps expose a part of the truth about that crime organization he betrayed while also publicly revealing his connection to them, blowing the minds of miles and franziska in the gallery. after that trial, he's not a prosecutor anymore; for his less than pleasant past and connections he really swiftly gets his badge taking away and is assigned correctional labor as punishment. he can't reveal any more truth about them in court, even if he wanted to, but he hands it over to miles and phoenix, knowing they can do this. and so, losing his badge and his entire reputation, umaru starts his life anew for the third or fourth time now – as a postman.

theres so much more I didn't get to tell here, like that story about how he came to love bowling, his emotions behavior jokes breakdowns throughout all of that, the fact that he's a trans man and his transition process, all of the personal relationships he developed outside the von karma kids, with gumshoe with phoenix with lana skye, I didn't even get to tell you more about how the von karma kids reacted to their childhood caretaker and also kinda actually a friend being freshly from the criminal world when he first found himself on their doorstep, how von karma helped him fake his documents, this is all just a really basic outline of the story he has but it has so much more! I just hope that with this long abomination of a post I got you to care about this guy even half as much as I do!!

#maya posts #maya writing #Kinda #maya's aa oc tag #I really do hope someone will read this whole thing but you don't really have to #dont know if I should tag this w the general aa tag. I think I shouldn't so im not going to

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stickystarspectrumtroll-ocs · 2 years

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🎂📰😨😄🎱

🎂 - Do they celebrate their birthday?

Yep! For C.C. all her family and friends are jumping on that and there's a small-to-medium party at her house with cake and party games and whatnot. For Jasper, servants give him a cake and some presents from his parents, maybe some birthdays his parents visit to do something together, take him to a circus or a movie or a play or a musical or something. And each of them will generally take the day to treat themselves to whatever they want to treat themselves to.

📰 - An obituary for your character was found in the local paper this morning. What did it say?

I imagine for either of them, the most likely cause of death would've been dying in battle. Either from a typical superhero-vs-supervillain battle where they just got knocked around a little too much and/or had some real bad luck or just didn't end up quite being up for the task after all, or from a giant entire-world-at-stake movie-level conflict.

I'm sure that kind of thing, for a superhero, would be all over the news, or at least warrant one full article. I wonder, when that happens, do they reveal the superhero's secret identity in it? To more wholly mourn the loss of them? I can imagine that. I can imagine that after saying how Mitochondria died and some words about her being such a great superhero and all, they reveal her civilian name was Carol-Caitlyn Fletcher, she was a student at Superhero Academy (or whatever the school was called), she liked sports and art and aimed to be a professional artist in her civilian life, her friends described her as funny and kind and a go-getter and always wanting to help people, and she's survived by her mom and dad and older sister and younger brother, and then maybe they have her family members say a few words about her.

I thought also about there being an article or obituary for her death as a superhero and a separate, less-looked-at one for her as a civilian, but what would they report for her civilian self's cause of death? Would they just have to make something up? I'm not sure what they would come up with. And it would make me sad, tbh, to think about that. It would feel unfair, for somecreature to have to say she died in a car crash or something, when really she died fighting to save a city or a planet. And for the whole public to mourn her death as a superhero while few people know to mourn the death of her as a person outside of that.

Jasper, well. He's a rather complicated case for this.

No one mourns the wicked, they say.

And he is a villain, after all. He's the one who once drenched half the city in slime, who once turned half the city into cats, who stole priceless artifacts from museums just to juggle them live on TV, who wreaked havoc with robots and ray guns and dastardly inventions of all kinds, who took pleasure in causing mass pandemonium for only his own amusement. I can imagine there being full articles about the deaths of supervillains too, but those would likely be in celebration of them, not to mourn but to rejoice in never having to be subject to their schemes again.

Though I bet they also spend a fair amount of words on Just How Evil those villains were. I hope they make him out to plenty black-hearted and sick-minded, despicable and dastardly. I hope they use plenty of dramatic language to emphasize how much chaos he caused and how he did it purely for his own twisted sense of fun. Jasper would like that, to be remembered that way.

Something else occurs to me too, though.

Dying in a giant movie-level fate-of-the-world-at-stake conflict is almost as much a possibility for him as it is for C.C. But in a situation like that, he'd have temporarily teamed up with the heroes.

Imagine. The public hearing from the press that this dastardly supervillain died helping a team of superheroes save the world. What would that be like?

I imagine C.C. would speak to the press about this. Because the first assumption from everycreature would've been that Count Jokester had had a change of heart and turned around to become a hero, and that wouldn't be the truth, and he wouldn't want to be remembered that way. She'd have to explain to people that he was always exactly the supervillain they all knew him to be, and he never stopped being that, but at the same time, this goodness was always part of him. She knew him as a civilian and he always had human decency about him, however much of troublemaker he was even in civilian life. If he ran into somecreature crying, he'd sit down with them and attempt to comfort them. And he really was instrumental in saving the world. At the same time, the papers quote her saying, "He always intended to go right back to his supervillain schemes once the world was saved. He just needed it to be saved so he could keep having his own kind of fun with it. I did tell him, at one point, that he was great help in this fight, and he wasn't even that bad of a person really, and he could very well turn around and be a good guy full time. He just threw his head back and laughed, and told me, 'Of course I could. But where's the fun in that?'"

Why am I having all these emotions thinking about all this.

Answering this questions for C.C. and Jasper is actually super different than for Maddie T. Like, they're a superhero and supervillain. They're in the public eye. If their deaths were mentioned in the local papers, they'd be something for the whole public to know about. They'd leave a serious mark what with the things that they did with their lives. Something of a legacy. Gosh dang is that something to think about.

😨 - Your character just broke wind in public. Do they try to hide it or own up to it?

C.C. does this pressing-mouth-shut-with-cheeks-puffing-out face, suppressing laughter.

Jasper lets slip a somewhat-reigned-in chuckle/snicker/whatever, then says "Oh, excuse me!" in a very dignified but clearly amused tone.

😄 - What has ever made your character laugh so hard that they almost passed out?

Jasper I feel like has a handful of movie scenes and theater scenes that made him lose his absolute cupcakes when he first saw them and will always hold a special place in his heart and live rent-free in his head. I think also some prank(s) he played at some earlier point in his life went particularly hilariously and made him dang near asphyxiate from laughter and will always be among his fondest memories.

C.C., maybe some joke her dad made once that's now a recurring inside joke within her family? Maybe some ridiculous slapstick-ish incident that happened when she was messing around with her friends?

🎱 - Your character and a talking raccoon walk into a bar…

I mean, C.C. might be concerned about the legality of that considering she's underage. We could just ignore that though, or we could say they just go to like a diner or something instead. In any case in that scenario I imagine the talking raccoon is a fellow superhero I guess. Maybe they want her help with some mission or other, maybe they just. Happened to meet and start talking, I dunno. Oh! Or, alternatively, they're a random person who got turned into a raccoon by somecreature and want her help figuring out a way to turn back and/or stop whoever did that to them and is doing the same to others. Or something. I dunno. Might come back to this.

Jasper I imagine it being a fellow villain. Maybe their backstory is that they were human and got turned raccoon by some chemical spill or failed experiment or something? I dunno. Jasper tries not to tease them too much about it as they seem rather bitter and broody about it. I guess they discuss thir respective villainous plans and junk. Somehow I imagine this raccoon villain is more serious about it and more "today X city tomorrow the world" ish. Maybe the raccoon suggests teaming up at some point. And Jasper does think that sounds like a blast, though he only intends it to be another battle-of-the-day and the raccoon might be thinking bigger than that. If it's explicitly only a take-over-the-world kinda thing, he says he'll pass, and that he respects villains with those sorts of plans but he himself has no intention of doing anything beyond causing some mass chaos and panic to entertain himself. If it's NOT explicitly only a take-over-the-world thing, if it can potentially lead into that if not stopped by anycreature but will start off as just causing a lot of within-city trouble, Jasper happily agrees and they shake hands and get on it.

#oc asks!!#thank you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#c.c.#jasper

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hockeyshitandstuff · 3 years

Text

Are you in town? - Matthew Tkachuk (part 1)

part two here

part three here

word count: 1860 words

TW: language, angst (?)

let me know if you want part two, I’m somehow still not sure

...

It was so hot that day. The movers were already gone, the place feeling empty without all the furniture. In a few hours, you'd be long gone, flying far away from Chesterfield.

Some small part of you felt sorry for selling your parents' house - the house you spent your whole childhood living in. But they moved out a few years ago and told you many times they didn't mind at all selling it.

Wiping the sweat off of your eyebrows you made your way through the blooming garden, trying to memorize every little detail. You remembered climbing this tree, you remembered the hole in the fence you made so the neighbour's dog could come play with you, you remembered the time capsule you and Matt buried here when you were fifteen.

Until now, you completely forgot about that. Even though you two didn't talk after he got drafted, it'd be a good idea to meet again since you might never see him again. You might be moving to Calgary but that city was so big it'd be a miracle to meet Matthew somewhere.

So you scrolled through your phone, praying he didn't change his number after all those years as you dialed it.

The phone rang twice before someone picked it up.

"Yes?"

Matthew's voice was so different since the last time you talked.

"Hey Matt, this is Y/N, I'm moving out today and I thought we could dig up the time capsule we buried at my place as kids before I leave. Are you in town?" It was off-season so you might get lucky.

"You are moving out already? But yeah, I can meet you in an hour if you have the time."

"Yes, I'll still be here, don't worry."

"Okay..." There was a moment of awkward silence, neither of you knew how to break it. Was it a bad idea? Of course you wouldn't be as good friends as you once were. But you didn't know it would be this... weird. He didn't say goodbye back when he left to Calgary and didn't answer to any of your calls or messages. What were you thinking? That he wanted to see you?

"So, where are you moving to?" Matt finally continued, making the conversation more bareable.

"Calgary, they offered me an amazing job there."

"Really? I've been there for a few years."

"I heard." Not from you, was what you didn't say. It seemed like he'd heard it nonetheless.

Silence. You hated how distant you've grown - once, a long time ago, you were best friends. You went together to kindergarden and since then you've been the best of best friends. But even after all you went through, you didn't know what to say.

"Nevermind, I have to get going. I'll be at your place at three, okay?"

"Okay. I'll meet you there."

As you hung up, sadness enveloped you. Maybe you shouldn't have called. Maybe it'd be better to never meet Matt again, to remember only the good old times.

But he might be already on his way and you wanted to say a proper goodbye before going far, far away.

You loved him once, you recalled. It broke your heart when he left without looking back.

It irritated you that you couldn't do the same as easily.

...

"Y/N?" a now familiar voice called, the sound of closing car doors echoing through the silent street.

Matt looked same as he did four years ago and still totally different. It was like staring at a stranger you could swear you've already seen before. The curly, those pretty grey-blue eyes and the crooked smile you remembered and thought about too often. He got taller and more mascular over the time he played hockey professionally.

"Hey," you said nervously, tucking your slightly trembling hands into the pockets of your shorts.

Again, that uncomfortable silence took place.

"How long is it?" Since you've last seen each other. Since he'd ignored your calls and messages. Since he'd left you crying as he left this town - as he left you.

"Five years," you said.

Regret flashed in those pretty eyes as he took you in. Did you look to him the same as you did the last time he saw you?

"I'm sorry I didn't call." That was it? After five fucking years of silence, this was his apology for everything. This was a mistake. You didn't think it through when you called him today. Just now you started remembering all the things he's done to you.

"That doesn't make it hurt less, does it?" You whipped around, going to the line of fruit trees where you left the two shovels you borrowed from the neighbour.

Matt's hand slightly gripped your elbow, stopping you in your tracks.

"I know that I made a bunch of wrong decisions before I left."

"I've been trying for 6 months to reach you before giving up completely. And you? You've been living the best version of your life anyone could ever imagine."

"That's not true and you know it." Matthew said and you wanted to leave right then, forget this stupid meeting.

"I do not." you hissed, trying to calm down your rising temper.

Matt sighed, not wanting to argue over this. So he made his way to the tree line, picked one shovel from the ground and started digging where he remembered the time capsule was.

You didn't help him dig it up. You were too lost in memories, clinging to the past as you thought of younger version of Matt.

The clang of metal on metal attracted your attention back to him. He grunted as he pulled up the metal box and laid it on the grass.

You ducked low next to him, dusting off the dirt of the box. It was an old, weirdly dented thing. Your eyes laid on the lock and you nearly sighed in annoyance just when Matt grabbed at his necklace, the key dangling from it. When you two buried the capsule, each of you got a key made for it. You had yours somewhere in the boxes that had already been shipped to your new apartment and Matt's... he didn't forget. He kept it through the years, guarding it and not losing it as you expected.

You didn't say anything, just patiently waited for him to open the box.

There was a letter inside, along with a bunch of things you thought of as long forgotten. Your bracelets of friendship, the colors faded already; a puck with which you and Matthew played your first hockey game together when you were six; so many polaroid photos with your faces on them; USB with a playlist you two always danced to.

Your eyes watered - how were you supposed to say goodbye to all of this?

Silently, you looked over all of the photos - you and Matt in the rink with small hockey sticks and skates, you and Matt sticking out your tongues colored blue with slushies, you and Matt, you and Matt, you and Matt...

Then Matthew's hand found yours, your fingers automatically intertwining with his. You started crying, first silently but then the sobs shook with your whole body.

"Come here," he murmured, hugging you. His body was so soft and warm, as if begging you to lean into his touch.

"How- how could you leave this all behind?" you mumbled between the sobs.

"It's not leaving if you don't say goodbye." Matt said, his fingers playing with yours.

"Then you are a fucking coward, Matthew."

Silence. He didn't argue with you on that, so you must have been right.

You stopped crying after a while, checking your watch while wiping your nose.

Shit. It was so late already - you had to call an uber to get you to the airport in the next hour or you'd be super late.

"I'll have to go," you said quietly, but Matt interrupted you.

"You are right," he tucked on the edge of his shirt, clearly nervous. He was nervous. "I was a coward. I thought that if I didn't say goodbye to you as I left, it'd hurt less. I was wrong and I was a fucking coward for not picking up your calls or replying to your messages because it would make it so real - that I was leaving and probably never coming back. But I want to make it all right again, I want to be a part of your life - if you will let me."

You thought about his offer and still, you couldn't answer. You weren't sure about letting him into your heart just for him to storm out again without a goodbye, leaving you behind, broken.

"Can I at least take you to the airport?" To that, you nodded, picking up the time capsule, putting all the items back in. Then you gave back the lent shovels to your neighbour and with a last glance at your house, you got into Matt's car.

...

On the way to the airport Matt played the playlist from the USB that was in the time capsule and the nostalgy hit you hard.

You remembered the lyrics, the melody; you remembered everything.

The drive was too short and you started panicking as the engine stopped.

Matthew helped you with your suitcase and went inside with you. The two of you stopped at the first gate.

"Here," he said, giving you a piece of paper. "It's my adress. Hopefully, you won't live so far away, so we could meet there if you wanted to."

You tucked it in your pocket without a word.

"Also, take this. I wrote it in ninth grade so don't think much of it. But I want you to read it, Y/N."

It was the letter from the time capsule, with your name on the blank envelope.

"I will." you promised.

The silence that followed wasn't awkward this time.

"I'll let you know my decision about what you said earlier. I just... I need some time."

Matt noded, giving you the space you so desperately needed.

"So, until we meet again - goodbye, Y/N."

"Goodbye, Matt."

...

The plane took off and you finally had the time to read the letter he gave you.

You immediately recognised his scrambled handwriting and you smiled at how messy it was before you started reading.

Dear Y/N,

I'm writing this in case I leave. Dad has been telling me for some time already that if I'll get drafted, I'll have to leave. He also said that if I'll be smart, I will never look back at my past.

I don't want you to be my past. I want you to be my present and my future.

He said I'll meet a lot of girls but I know that none of them is going to be like you.

So, I promise you, I will never say goodbye to you.

I love you,

Matt

With trembling fingers, you pulled out your phone, the tears already staining the screen.

That's why he never said goodbye. Because of this stupid letter and his stupid promise.

The phone rang once before he picked it up.

"Y/N? What is it?"

A ragged breath escaped you and you laughed and cried at the same time.

"I don't want you to be my past. I want you to be my present and my future."

"Oh, that was cheesy, wasn't it-"

"No, you dumbass. That's my answer."

220 notes · View notes

red-writes · 3 years

Text

Career oriented

Escort! Bakugou x Reader

Your entire life you've been focused solely on your career, you've sacrificed a lot of things, people and time to get where you are and it’s paid off, now you're a millionaire who is also a virgin and never had a boyfriend in their life. Your friend recommends you a male escort service. At first you hire him to go on dates and do other things couples do but the relationship develops far beyond what you could've imagined, now you're laying under him begging him to be your first.

cw: smut, fluff, unprotected sex, reader is a capitalist lmao, I mean reader is a virgin but its not rlly virginity loss bc its not focused around that but reader does lose her virginity, unedited (but what's new)

a/n: I mean we always hear abt sugar daddies, I need rich reader pls also- monoma is a rich bitch y'all can't fight me on this he got that rich bitch mentality.

The words ‘hard worker’ were understatements when it came to describing you. Pretty much all of your life was spent working, growing your small business with your own two hands. Now money was never an issue. A huge house with several bathrooms, fancy bags and cars, all the things you've ever wanted were now in your possession except maybe one thing. Seeing happy couples holding hands as they walked around in the park, kissing and calling each other pet names, seeing them stirred a feeling of longing inside of you.

While it’s true that now you'd never want for anything else in your life, you still wanted something money couldn't buy you, love.

A small tap to your shoulder brought you out of your daze.

“Your eggs are going to get cold..” Todoroki mentioned and you gave him a small smile before prodding your fork in the perfectly scrambled egg.

“Hey, don't tell me you're thinking about that shareholders meeting this week” Monoma groans and you shake your head.

“Then what is it?” Momo wondered as she wiped her mouth with her napkin.

“It’s just- you guys all have someone you know romantically” you say as you rest your fork on the plate, deciding that you weren't really in the mood to eat anymore.

Monoma scoffs, “Yeah barely...I almost broke up with shinso after that last stunt he pulled in the club”

Momo giggles, “You're still with him?”

His face dusts pink in embarrassment as he looks away, “A-anyway, why don't you try getting an escort” Monoma recommends and it was your turn for your face to warm.

“An e-escort?! You do realize who we are right? If someone in here were to hear us talk about such a thing..” Momo whisper-yells and Todoroki’s eyebrow quirks up

“We all know I met Izuku through a sugar daddy website though-”

You clear your throat, “I’m not necessarily looking for you know..sex...just maybe someone to spend time with Monoma” You clarify and he's rummaging through his pockets to find his phone, he fiddles with it before showing you what the site looks like.

“Duh, escorts just get paid for their time not necessarily sex, I’ll send you the link to the website” He tells you and you sigh thoughtfully, if that was really the case then it wouldn't be so wrong to hire some cute eye candy right?

Momo waves over the waiter, “We’ll have the check please”

“Certainly ma'am”

You sat at your office’s desk with the website pulled up. You'd triple checked to make sure your door was locked, you still had a reputation to uphold as the CEO of your company, you'd be traumatized if one of your employees saw you hiring an escort.

You scrolled through the many many options of guys. Each profile consisted of a headshot of the escort along with a bio that consisted of maybe a paragraph and . You really couldn't find anyone that suited your tastes personally, until your mouse hovered over a blonde guy.

His bio was notably shorter than everyone else’s and in his picture he looked mean, eyebrows furrowed and red eyes staring menacingly at you and yet you found yourself clicking the ‘hire!’ button next to his name. Even though he looked like his favorite hobby was stealing candy from a baby, but his looks (as shallow as that may seem) were really speaking to you and the you between your legs if you were honest.

Bakugou Katsuki huh..well he seemed worth a try.

You had been through countless scenarios were you were rightfully terrified.

Being on a date had to be the scariest out of all of them.

Bakugou was sitting in front of you, he stirred his straw around in his coffee and looked at you while you struggled to contain the rabid beating of your heart in your chest.

“S-So..What- um..-”

“Just relax” He interrupts, his voice sounded so nice, deep and smooth like a rich dark chocolate. It only manages to make you more nervous.

“I’m sorry- I haven't actually done this before” you confess with a nervous chuckle, hands gripping your tea cup brutally.

He gives you this half smile and you're unsure of wether he's actually human or a demi-god at this point. “I can tell, but don't worry there's no reason to be”

You feel slightly comforted by his words and feel yourself let loose a little, “Okay, Bakugou, what do you like to do?” you ask.

“I like going to the gym” he shrugs, “I’m not really Interesting, I’m more curious about you” he says, he places his elbow on the table and rests his chin in the palm of his hand and leans in to you. His skin is so clear- not a blemish in sight and his eyes are practically burning a hole into your soul.

“M-me? I do nothing too important..I like to sew” you respond, taking a sip of your jasmine tea. You didn't necessarily want to tell him about who you were or what you did just yet, money and status only complicate things. For now, you just wanted to be a normal young woman going out on a date.

“Come on, don't be shy, I know there's more to you than sewing” He says, removing the straw from his coffee and placing it on a neighboring napkin.

You bite into your bottom lip, “Well, I honestly don't do much besides work, it’s taken up so much time in my life I can't say I do much else” you admit and Bakugou hums thoughtfully. He doesn't respond for a bit, the sounds of the coffee shop fill the silence instead.

“Okay, I have an idea”

You cock your head to the side curiously.

“Let’s ditch the formalities and go have some real fun, I think its about time you lived your life” he proposes and your mouth hands open. Was he serious? He looked it. You couldn't help the giddy feeling that bubbled up within you, a feeling you hadn't felt in a long time, excitement. It made you feel young again.

“What do you say?”

“Alright!”

The two of you spent all day together, visiting various hidden places around the city, you did shopping and even some sightseeing. For the first time in a while you felt alive, like you were actually a person and not just a unfeeling robot who simply lived to work.

Your last stop was a park. With a large lake in the center Bakugou suggested you guys feed the birds before heading home. With a handful of birdseed you gently sprinkled some into the water and watched the geese gobble it up.

“When I was five, I had a huge fear of geese..” Bakugou admits and you're chuckling.

“No way, really?” you turned to face him and when you do he’s already looking at you, smiling fondly, eyes filled with an emotion that you really couldn't seem to put your finger on.

“What? Do I have something on my face that you're not telling me about?” You pout and he shakes his head before turning his attention back to the birds as he sprinkles more of the food into the lake.

“No, just realized somethin’”

The sun’s beginning to set now, the sky is illuminated by hues of orange and pink. You nudge him with your arm, “Realized what?”

He turns back to face you, there's an adoring look on his face.

“You look pretty when you're having fun”

A look of surprise crosses your features before your ears burn in embarrassment at the sudden compliment, the butterflies in your stomach flutter around more and more the longer you two stare at each other.

“Thanks” You mumble before looking down at your palm full of birdseed.

Dates with Bakugou become more and more frequent after that. The two of you often meeting up more than you meet up with your regular friends. Bakugou doesn't even charge you anymore, even though you've tried to tell him it was fine he still insisted otherwise. The two of you even exchanged numbers and spoke quite often on the phone. Texts like,

‘this song reminded me of you’ and ‘don't work too hard, idiot’ were often exchanged.

After maybe a month of this happening you realized that the warm feeling you got in your chest whenever Bakugou brushed your hair into place or stopped to tie your shoe for you or even when he texted you good morning wasn't because you appreciated him being a good friend, you liked him. It took a month to finally decipher your feelings for him but once you did..what the heck were you supposed to do now?

Never once in your life had you confessed to someone let alone dated them, what would happen to your friendship with Bakugou if things didn't work out? You didn't want to stop being friends with him, you loved being with him, he was the reason you finally started taking breaks and learned to relax.

You had a ton of questions to answer for yourself but you couldn't do it right now, you had a date with Bakugou. He told you to dress up and you weren't sure where you were going but you trusted him to take you somewhere you'd enjoy. Around 8pm like promised, he was there to pick you up. His car was fairly nice, you assumed his high pay rates were being used for something but now you know what. He was wearing a black three piece suit, it was crisp and you could clearly tell it was expensive, his hair was slicked back and he had a single diamond stud in his left ear. He looked damn good. It was making you a little nervous about how fancy this place actually was.

The drive to dinner was unusually quiet. Bakugou typically did most of the conversations with you seeing as you were mostly an awkward sausage but tonight was different, he had a stern look on his face and you felt a little worried. Bakugou noticed your nervous look in the rearview mirror and without skipping a beat placed his hand gently upon your thigh and gave it a small squeeze, this thumb moved back and forth in a soothing manner. All without taking his eyes off the road.

You felt a shiver run up your spine and you bit your lip from potentially making any noise, you turned your head to face the window to prevent him from seeing the look on your face.

Bakugou was right about the restaurant being fancy. The place was full of people you could recognize, everyone from business moguls to celebrities, it was almost a little intimidating but you knew probably how tough it was for Bakugou to even get a table reserved at this place so you decided to instead choke down any kindlings of anxiety and replace it with a gratefulness for his hard work.

You swirled the champagne around in your glass while Bakugou took a bite out of his steak, the atmosphere between you two was a little awkward and it hadn't been like this since the two of you met it was a little alarming.

“Is something wrong..?” you ask after gently resting the glass back on the table, he wipes his mouth with his napkin and sighs.

“I’m sorry that- I seem so weird tonight” he apologizes and you shake your head.

“No no don't worry about it, I’m just worried something bad happened” you tell him, you lean forward and place your hand on his. His fingers lace themselves with yours and for a moment it feels like its just the two of you in the restaurant together.

“Nothing bad, actually something good” he explains and you're giving him a small smile

“Something good?” you question and he leans in even closer to you.

“I mean, ever since I started hanging out with you I feel like my life's changed, I’m not one to be super cheesy but I just- fuck..I like you” his face is turning a light pink and in a moment of courage you close the small distance between the two of you and press your lips against his. He immediately reciprocates the kiss, his hand sneaks up your forearm and settles on your elbow using it to pull you in closer.

When the kiss finally breaks the two of you are a panting mess, then you hear the waiter clear his throat and Bakugou uses his thumb to wipe the lipstick from the corner of his lips.

“Check, please”

Upon entering your home, there wasn't much speaking. Your arms were wrapped around his neck as his hands fumbled with the zipper on the back of your dress. The two of you blindly walked backwards until you tripped backwards onto the couch. Bakugou completely stripped you of your dress and laid it across the back of the couch, your hands made quick work of his pants unbuttoning and unzipping them, he kicked them off eagerly uncaring of where the fabric was strewn. He cupped your cheek and continued to kiss you as he helped you wiggle out of your underwear. He sucked in a breath at feeling how wet you already were. He ran a finger up and down your slit before gently nudging a finger inside.

The sensation was foreign, it felt odd at first but the more he kept twisting and thrusting the finger inside of you the better it began to feel. He slid in another one and began making a scissor motion inside of you. Your hips raised off the cushions of the couch, you moaned into the kiss and eventually he pulled away from it, instead opting to kiss the skin of your neck. Your moans along with the wet sounds of his fingers fingering you open filled the space. It felt good, you could feel the knots in your stomach threaten to untangle the harder his fingers fucked themselves into you.

His movements slowly came to a halt and he slid his fingers out. Your eyes clouded with tears and your legs were shaking, disappointed that he stopped when you were so close. He pulled his cock from his underwear and began stroking it over you.

“Ready?” He asks as he grinds his cock against your twitching entrance and you're gripping his shoulder before he makes another move.

“A-actually..please just be gentle its-i’ve never done this before” you confess and his eyes widen for once, taken aback by your sudden profession. He gives you a small nod, “Promise.”

With one smooth stroke he bottoms out within you. Your back is arching off the couch as your mouth hangs open in a silent cry. The feeling is an addicting mix of pain and pleasure that has the tears you were holding in begin to roll down your cheeks, Bakugou gently kisses them away and uses his fingers to wipe away the stray tears. For a while, you're simply holding each other, bakugou whispers words of comfort in your ears while you slowly familiarize yourself with having him inside of you.

When Bakugou feels your hips begin to move against his, he takes that as his sign to begin moving. His thrusts start shallow, hips just barely touching yours as he doesn't want to hurt you and you quickly become frustrated with his kindness. Your legs wrap around his waist and pull him closer to you, forcing him to bottom out inside you again. You whine his name and he shakes his head.

“And here I was trying to be considerate” he huffs out, you grip his tie and pull him down and press a gentle kiss against his lips.

“I didn't ask you to take it easy on me” you remind him and he scoffs

“You asked for this”

You're suddenly flipped onto your stomach and he raises your hips in the air, he pulls himself all the way out of you until the head of his cock is the only thing you can still feel inside of you, he rams his cock back into you and you're gripping the couch for dear life. His hips are ruthless, lewd slapping noises fill the room as the head of his cock kisses your cervix with every thrust. His heavy balls greet your clit with an unceremonious slap. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, you can't think of anything else except Bakugou. You'd been completely fucked dumb on your first time.

You feel Bakugou’s fingers lace into your hair and grip the roots before pulling at them and forcing your head back. A jolt of pleasure flows through your body as his cock pushes up against your g-spot, your legs and kicking around behind you.

“No! cum-cumming kats I-” you can hardly finish your own sentence due to how hard your orgasm hits you, your body his shaking as bakugou releases your hair and uses his free hand to grip your waist as he desperately humps you, chasing his own release. Your cunt spasms around him in overstimulation, Katsuki only curses under his breath as you squeeze down on him, your cunt clamps down on his cock as you're brought to your second orgasm and his movements finally begin to slow and an unfamiliar warm fills your tummy.

He doesn't pull out right away. Instead he gently lays you backwards onto his chest and you snuggle into his chest.

He whistles, “Nice place”

“Pfft- don't try to make small talk with me after you just finished banging me” you giggle sleepily.

“Fair enough, still, I’m curious about how you can even afford this place” he wonders, hand rubbing up and down your back, only easing you closer to falling asleep.

“Hard work” you reply he takes your hand in his and kisses the back of it.

“That’s my hard working girl”

you feel the butterflies swarm around your stomach all over again at his small comment.

“Does this mean we're dating now?” you ask and he gives you a little chuckle.

“Yes, if you want”

“Good then you're my boyfriend” your eyes are fluttering closed at this point, you merely nuzzle into his chest and he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“Goodnight love”

“Night Kats..”

323 notes · View notes

xoxo-teddybear · 3 years

Text

Just Stay - Bakugou Katsuki - pt.2

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, cursing

Summary: it’s been almost 2 years since the breakup and Bakugou refuses to move. No matter how many times people tell him it’s time, he ignores them because he knows he’ll run into you again. And he was right all along.

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Pt.1 Pt.2

Almost 2 years. About 24 months. Around 104 weeks, 730 days, 17520 hours, or 63,072,000 seconds. And every second of everyday, you run through Bakugou’s mind.

Memories of the two of you always pass through him and he always smile at the good ones. But as time went on, he realized he really wasn’t the same person anymore. Especially not to Y/N. In the beginning, he was hopelessly devoted to you and he craved to be around you. He always wanted what was best for you until he realized in the end he grew selfish. He stopped caring about your needs, neglecting you, and just assumed you’d stay because you still loved him the same way he did you. He was wrong though, and the horrible day of your split arrived.

After you left his house that day, Bakugou remained in the same place for hours. He stood there and cried with his back facing the front door, and when his legs grew tired, he fell to the ground and continued to cry.

Everybody thought he would move on but he didn’t. He still held onto hope. So for 2 years, Bakugou worked to fix himself just for you. He went to therapy to work on his excessive anger, he stopped going out as much with his friends and worked around the house to improve his home skills to help you out when you would return, and he even went as far as to get a lil dog for himself to learn to be a little more loving and compassionate.

His name was Bomber. He was a Pomeranian.

During those 2 years..it’s like you disappeared. Bakugou, and none of your friends, saw sight or heard word of you. Some people thought you moved, some thought the worst had possibly happened. But Bakugou was still going strong. If something was wrong, he would’ve felt it in his heart, but his hope was still going strong. He knew you were out there.

And he was right. For the past 2 years you’ve lived...everywhere! You never stayed in one place for too long in fear of someone from your life may get word of you being around. You’ve lived in the beautiful islands of the Caribbean all the way to the blissful cities in Paris. You’ve been all around the world and you’ve enjoyed all the sights, but you were getting tired of not really having friends and spending so much money. You missed Japan. The food, the culture, the songs, the celebration. The people. And so you decided it was time for you to head back.

You moved back home about a month ago and you made sure none of your old friends would hear about you. You wanted to settle for a little bit before interacting with the people who were a huge part of your old life and you enjoyed the quite peaceful nature. After some time, you decided it was okay to meet up with your old friends, but instead of going out and looking for them, you waited to see what destiny brought you, and now the moment has come.

You sat in the old park you used to love being in when you lived in Japan. It was spring time and the cherry blossoms were out as they covered the trail you made for yourself when you came here. In the past, you found a hidden area of the park forest that seemed...magical. There was a crystal blue lake that were filled with Lilly pads, lotuses, and koi fish. The sunlight hit perfectly on the patch of land, and dusted it with a golden honey scheme. The cherry blossom trees surrounded the place along with tall pines that reached the clouds. The cute little creatures that lived in the secluded area included bunnies, fawns, beautiful birds, and adorable foxes.

It’s been so long since you’ve been here. The last time you even stepped foot into this park was when you were with..Bakugou. But even then, the last time you went with him was about 4 months before your breakup. He was the only person you ever told about this spot and you both had so many memories here. You weren’t gonna lie, you missed him, but you didn’t know who he was now. As the 2 years past, Bakugou has gone through your mind a couple times, and you smiled towards the sky as you wondered what he’s like nowadays. If he’s any different than the last time you saw him. You really wished nothing but the best for the man you love.

Every once in awhile, Bakugou would step into the hidden sanctuary that Y/N showed him. He enjoyed going there to get away from his reality and thoughts of Y/N always came to him when he entered that special place. This time, his imagination seemed really strong because he felt like he was staring at the real deal.

He looked ahead and leaning against the tallest cherry tree was the beautiful goddess herself, Y/N L/N. She held her cool expression as she held a cute little bunny and her golden jewelry sparkled in the sunlight that hit her body perfectly. She truly did look like a goddess.

Bakugou smiled as he saw you, but he quickly shook it off as he realized there was no way it was possible. He then chose to walk to the spot, hoping that the image of you would just disappear, but he also hoped that you were real. He snuck up on you from behind but you were smarter than that. Once he got close enough you walked to the other side of the tree, out of his line of vision and went into stealth mode as you quickly used your quirk to be seated on a high branch. Bakugou saw you walk and disappear so he sighed as he “realized” you were just his imagination. However, when he finally settled and looked out beyond the valley, you jumped down to surprise him. You hopped off the branch, grabbed Bakugou and spun you both around so that you were laying against the tree and he was facing you.

“Long time no see, Bakugou,” you said with a little break in your voice as you spoke with such a “cool girl tone.” You held a sassy smile as you stared at him with all the confidence radiating off your body. Bakugou just looked at you in shock. His mouth hung open as his wide eyes traveled all around you to make sure you were real. He shook a little as he stared at you and soon his tears began to pool at his eyes.

“Hey, hey, hey. You don’t gotta cry, it’s okay,” you said with a concerned smile. You wiped a stray tear that fell from his ruby eyes with your thumb and you felt heat rise to his cheeks as he leaned into your palm. “....Bakugou?....Are you- woah!”

Without warning, he quickly grabbed you and pulled you in by the waist to give you a hug. He held you tight as you were shocked but you smiled against his chest and held him too. He cried on your shoulder and after some time he finally spoke.

“I’ve missed you so much Y/N.”

“.....I’ve missed you too Katsuki.”

—

“Where have you been?” He asked as you both were seated on the grass. You and Bakugou both held onto each other for awhile as Bakugou cried his heart out like a big baby. You finally settled him and you both were sitting next to each other laying against the tree as you both sat on the grass.

“I’ve been everywhere!” You laughed out, “I’ve went to the states and hung out in L.A and Hawaii, took some time in New York and hung out in Florida. I then went to the Caribbean and partied in the Dominican Republic, and I even traveled to Europe and stayed in Paris for a bit. I’ve been all over the world traveling and finding me again.”

“You seem happy about that,” Bakugou said as he looked at you with loving eyes and a small smile that only you could ever bring out.

“I am. Ever since...um...you know...I’ve been a little lost. I lost myself and I missed the old me. My trips and alone time brought out the old me again and I’ve been feeling so much more alive,” you sighed as you settled, “but I’ve missed my roots. I’ve missed Japan and the people.....I’ve missed you too Katsuki.” You said with kind eyes as you smiled at him causing him to blush immensely.

You both remained silent as you guys enjoyed the sounds of spring. You felt the breeze blow in your hair as the warm sun comforted you. Soon, you felt Bakugou’s hand slowly touch yours. You knew he was scared to go and do anything else, but you openly welcomed his touch and he clearly became less tense.

“So...what have you been up to while I was away?” You calmly asked. You noticed Bakugou’s hesitation and deep breath before he spoke.

“I’ve been....I’ve been trying to better myself for you.” Your brows raised and eyes opened up a little wider. For the past 2 years, he’s been trying to better himself...just for you. “I’ve gone to therapy for my anger, stop going out as much, learned to do more around the house...even got a little dog to learn to be a little more compassionate.”

“Ouu! What kind?” You excitedly asked. He chuckled at your cute aura and answered your question.

“Cute little Pomeranian named bomber,” he admitted.

“No way! Cuteeee!” You squealed and Bakugou just laughed at you once again. How cute. As you thought about everything he said, your smile dropped a little into a little lip curl. A silence came over the two of you before you spoke again.

“You...you did all that for me?”

“Mhm. I wanna prove to you that I can change. That I have changed. ....I’m not telling you this to get you to come back to me..I want you to come on your own choice but I want you to know if you do decide to come back, that I’ve become better.” He explained.

You smiled and hummed to yourself in happiness. Your cheeks dusted with warmth as you smiled so much it hurt.

“Why don’t you show me how much you’ve changed Katsuki?” You offered.

“What?”

“Hehe, let’s start over. I don’t know if you’re still down for anything...but I’ve missed you over the past 2 years and I remember you saying that if a certain ‘goddess’ wanted to come back..you’d be waiting with open arms...” you looked at him and he gave an open smile that held more disbelief and happiness than excitement.

“Can we try again Suki?” You quietly asked, but Bakugou stood and picked you up. He pulled you up by your arms and pulled you even higher which caused you to jump and wrap your legs around him. You laughed out in excitement as he held you like that and rested his head in the crook of your neck.

“I should be on my hands and knees asking you that, princess.” He softly said with a broken voice but it was clear he was letting out tears of joy. You wrapped your arms around his neck even tighter as his hold on you never faltered. He started sniffling and you pulled him out of your neck as you wiped his tears.

“Suki! Stop crying,” you giggled, “this is supposed to be a happen moment.”

“Shut up! I don’t cry!” He said with a flushed face as he looked to the side but still holding you. You raised your brow at him and he only nervously laughed as he placed you down. He stuck out his hand for you to grab onto but you placed it down and wrapped your arms around his. You pecked his cheek and leaned on him as he smiled down at you. This was the moment he’s been waiting for. His princess finally came back to him. Everyone told him to move on but he knew better. If he did, he would’ve never been here right now with you again. And this time, he would make sure you’d stay.

“Suki?”

“Yes princess?”

“.......Can we go see Bomber?”

“Heh...whatever your heart desires.”

A/N: STAWWWPPP YALL THIS WAS SO BAD BUT IT WAS SO RUSHED! IM TRYNA HURRY CUZ I HAVE ANOTHER PART 2 TO WORK ON, I HAVE TO START ON THE NEXT PART OF MY SERIES AND I HAVE SO MUCH WORK TO DOOOOO😭😭😭 IM SO PISSED AT MYSELF BRO THIS COULDVE BEEN SO MUCH BETTER!!! BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOYED WHATEVER U COULD CUBS! See u next time! 😭💗🧸

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yee-fxcking-haw · 3 years

Text

•Porcelain Obsession•

Summary: Tamaki has a problem, a bad problem. He's obsessed, he's desperate, and he'll do whatever it takes to have you the way he wants you.

Pairing: Pro Hero Yandere Tamaki Amajiki x Reader (both 18+)

Warnings: Yandere, stalking, noncon voyeurism, mild manipulation and sabotage, mild coercive behavior, male masturbation, panty theft, male ejaculation, cum eating. It's just real graphic, strap in.

A/N: I am hopeless, this will have a second part that will be so much more sinful with gratuitous tentacle content. Just tagged those that interacted with the posted about this fic as usual. This little series was inspire by a tiktok I saw, and I'm literally writing it for the sake of putting one zinger of line in it lol.

Playlist

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMJbubhQN/

Word Count: 4,184

Part Two: Love Me Tender

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Stunning, astounding, enchanting. You're an angel, you have to be. That's the only explanation for the way you shine, surrounded by some ethereal glow.

Tamaki Amajiki has a problem. No, it's not a problem, it's completely normal to fall in love, he's under a spell. He can't be blamed for it, he never stood a chance. Although, most people would call this a problem, but only people who don't understand.

An ignorant person would have seen him watching you from around the corner for weeks, following you to your house after work under the cover of darkness, and finally, finally getting a glance into your window at night and label him as obsessed or disturbed. He should have felt dirty for that, but he didn't, not even close. He felt almost holy.

He felt like some chosen follower that was allowed to witness a sacred ritual. He watched you all evening with immeasurable reverence. He took note of the way you ate, how intently you read, but his favorite part was watching you settle into your bed and fall asleep.

As soon as he saw it the first time, it became an addiction. Watching your body curl around your pillow, clutching the fabric as you snuggled into it. How sweet you looked, so soft, so innocent. It made his chest ache, it made him feel starved. He had to have you, smell you, feel you.

That was nearly three months ago. Now, he watches you every chance he gets. The days he doesn't get to, he feels like a pitiful addict going through withdrawal. He has to at least speak with you, know your voice, see your skin up close.

During his patrol around the city he comes to the conclusion that it has to be today. He feels like he's losing breath without knowing you, captured by your existence but suffocated by the distance. He will have you, he will do whatever it takes.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

At your age, you should at least have a friend or two, maybe go out on friday, possibly even work another job. None of that ever seems worth it, not worth the time or the money or the effort to pretend you enjoy it. Here you stay, stuck somewhere in between discontent for your situation and the refusal to do anything about it.

You only have a half hour left of your shift, everyone else has gone home and you’ve been left to do dishes and lock up, as usual. You huff and puff around the shop as you complete the final closing tasks. Anybody else could have stayed and closed, they probably should have too, considering how often you shut down by yourself so they can all go home.

Naturally, you jumped at the opportunity to stay late, where else are you going to go? Certainly not on a date or out with friends. You feel slightly better about making money while you burn the hours away, so you always end up here.

The sun has set already, leaving the illumination of the shop to the awful fluorescent lights that hang from the ceiling. It’s all so mundane, so simple, so dreadfully boring.

Then the bell above the door jingles.

You roll your eyes and throw your rag into the sink, the sign says closed. Why don’t people read? You huff out of the kitchen and into the serving area.

“Hey, sorry but we’re closed right now, we open again tomorrow-” You freeze, it can’t be him, it has to be some cosplayer, some wannabe.

“I’m sorry, I just- my phone died while I was on patrol and I needed to call my boss to let them know I was finished for the day. I was hoping there would be a phone in here that I could use.” His voice is so timid, so unsteady. It doesn’t sound anything like you would imagine the voice of a pro hero to sound.

You try to stay uninvolved with any hero business, all of the flashy quirks and the gossip and the drama. The theater of it bores you to tears, and you lack respect for anyone that uses their ability to save lives as a tool for gaining popularity. You find most heroes to be so incredibly irritating. Most of them, except one.

Suneater, the emerging pro hero that has been the focus of all of your thoughts lately. You've only seen glimpses of him in the news, seen his face on the back page of a magazine, or heard his name from other people. Any evidence of his existence rapidly became precious to you. You are not some hopeless fangirl, you do not collect merchandise or follow him around and beg for autographs.

You admire him, his subtlety, how genuinely different he is from all the other heroes. He isn’t some attention whore, he isn’t some pretty boy that’s always posing for fan service. His quirk is so unique and powerful, unparalleled by any hero on the charts right now. He’s a real hero, and so much of you wanted him to be your hero.

There he stands, right in front of you, in your shop, asking you for help. He’s far more beautiful than you could have possibly anticipated. He’s all porcelain skin and inky hair, deep indigo eyes pear out from under his magnificent hood. He stands so tall, yet comes across so reserved. He’s spectacular, he’s an angel, he has to be.

“Of- of course, it’s in the back, follow me.” You say, motioning for him to come around the corner with you as you tuck back into the kitchen.

“Thank you, this is very kind of you.” He says as he follows, cape swishing behind him as he moves. You don’t know, you can’t possibly know, how badly he wants to take you into his arms and finally know what your body feels like against his, how he wants to bury his face in your hair and inhale your scent. If he could get away with it, he would, oh how he would feel every inch of you. He can’t though, not yet. He has to be careful, he has to be smart.

I will have her, and she’ll have me.

“It’s no problem, it sucks to be stuck without a phone. I’m happy to help.” You say as you round the corner to your shop’s makeshift break room.

It’s not even a room really, just a corner tucked away with a phone on the wall and a few chairs around a cheap foldable table.

You turn to him and motion to the phone awkwardly, heat settling in your chest and all over your skin. Your heart races and you can feel your palms turning wet.

“Take as much time as you need, did you uh- are you hungry?” You ask, “I’m technically closed, but I can only imagine how hungry you are after a whole day patrolling, I could throw something together for you?”

God, you’re so sweet.

“Oh no, you d-don’t need to do that, I can eat at home.” He insists, your mind fixates on the way he stutters, the way his eyes dart down and his feet shift as he talks.

“I would like to. Please? If you’ll let me?” You say softly, heart pounding even faster when he shifts towards you slightly.

How perfect you are, already asking for permission…

“Are you sure, I really don’t want to create more work for you.” He says, eyes flicking up to meet yours. His gaze makes it hard to swallow, he looks at you so intently, you almost feel like you don’t have enough clothing on.

“No! I promise you won’t be. You’d also be missing out on the best takoyaki around if you didn’t let me, and that would be a tragedy.” You say, trying to entice him with your bold claim.

“Well I g-guess, if you put it that way.” He offers you a trace of a smile.

“I’ll get started while you make your call.” You say as you move to squeeze past him in the narrow hall. As you slide by, there’s a brief, precious moment where you stand inches from each other. You don’t dare look up at him as you skate by, You know your legs will fail you if you meet his eyes while standing so close, and you can’t risk the embarrassment of dropping to your knees in front of a stranger, even if he is a hero,

He doesn’t say a word, simple stalks towards the phone as you glide down the rest of the hallway and into the kitchen.

You slip into autopilot in the kitchen, your brain is far too fixated on the fact that Suneater is down the hall, in your shop, using your phone. You clink around some pans, prepare the octopus meat and the batter and get to work. You can’t overhear him talking to anyone with all the noise you’re making, you almost want to apologize for being so noisy.

Your mind settles on thinking about how beautiful he is, how strong he looks, how easily he could overpower anyone… especially you. The thought makes you squeeze your thighs together, it shouldn’t, but holy hell it does.

Out of the corner of your eye you see him come into the kitchen, you immediately start to berate yourself for thinking that way about him. He’s a hero, he would never be interested in something like that with someone like you.

“I think the phone is down, do you maybe have a- a cell phone i could use?” He seems almost ashamed of the question, it makes your chest ache.

“Shit, that line is always being funny. I’m sorry, but I left my cell this morning.” You say, flipping the takoyaki around in their tray so they’ll cook evenly.

“I live just across the street though, I can run and grab it while you eat.” You say, desperate to help him in any way you can.

I know you’re just across the street.

He just shakes his head and bunches his cape in his fists, a very faint blush spreads across his cheeks and it makes your heart do summersaults.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, you’re already doing t-too much for me. You don’t need to make the extra t-trip, I can just call my boss when I’m home”

“Really, it’s not too much, if you’re worried about the extra trip you can just walk me home and use it when we get there. I imagine you would need to call as quickly as possible and get somebody on patrol now that you’re off.” You say, catching yourself a little when you sound too desperate.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you uncomfortable?” As he talks, he shuffles so he can press himself up into the corner of the kitchen, almost looking like he wants to melt into the wall.

“Well, considering your occupation is literally saving people, I definitely don’t feel uncomfortable, it’s not like you’re some crazy kidnapper.” You chuckle a little as you plate up the takoyaki. You try not to give attention to the twisted thoughts that enter your mind when you mention the kidnapping, pushing down the desire to be taken away from the colorless life you live.

If you only knew how badly I want to take you, to have you, keep you…

“I guess you have a p-point.” He says, taking the plate with a soft thank you. He starts stuffing his face with the spheres of breaded octopus immediately, letting a small content sigh leave his body.

“This is incredible, thank you, um, can I ask what your n-name is?” That damn stutter is going to turn your bones to jelly.

You say your name quietly, he responds by repeating it back to you, like he’s checking the pronunciation. You just nod as you open the fridge and pull out a gallon of green tea so you can pour him a glass.

“T-Tamaki, my name’s Tamaki Amajiki.” He says with his shy voice.

A warm, invasive feeling spreads through you. You have to remain calm, pretend that his real name is news to you, pretend that you haven’t spent hours searching through fanfictions listed under that name.

You chat as he finishes his food, thanking him as he mumbles compliments about you cooking in between bites. It doesn’t take long for him to take down the plate. He thanks you over and over as you clean the rest up. He stays glued to his spot in the corner until you take your apron off and hang it on the rack with the others.

“Alright, let’s get you to that phone.” You say as you grab your keys off the hook and switch the lights off.

When you turn to look at him the breath is stolen from your lungs immediately. He looks so celestial in the dark, somehow glowing in the dark. He’s stunning, he’s perfect, he’s painfully out of your league. You remind yourself of that last fact in order to still your nerves.

You turn on your heels and walk towards the door as quickly as you can without seeming rushed. He follows silently, the heavy sound of his thick cloak floating around him makes the hair on your neck stand up. He even sounds powerful.

After you exit the building, he stands with his back to you as you lock the door. His stance is protective, surveying the streets around you like a real hero. You can’t let it go to your head, it’s not for you specifically, he would do this for anyone, it’s his job.

The walk to your house isn’t really uncomfortable, but it is tense. The energy between you is painfully obvious, just not to each other. You both want to speak, ask about each other, know each other, but neither has the guts to make the first move.

While you walk, Tamaki’s head is constantly on a swivel, and he stays so very close to you. It makes your chest ache, the feeling of being so safe next to such an intimidating man. Nobody would dare approach you with him next to you. You would damn near kill to have this all the time, if not all the time at least as often as possible.

You arrive at your house after not even two minutes of tension filled strolling. Silently, cautiously, you both enter your home after you unlock the door.

"It's so cozy." Tamaki says immediately upon seeing all of the soft lights and pastels that make up your decor. He’s nearly trembling with excitement from finally being able to see inside your little world. After watching from the outside for so long, he can finally learn more about you.

"Oh, thanks, I try to keep it soft looking in here. It helps me decompress after a day at a busy restaurant." You explain, setting your keys in their dish before leading him down the hallway to the kitchen.

The house is nothing special, a simple little single bedroom, one story with a relatively open floor plan. It’s small but easy to afford and keep clean. It works for you.

“I’ll go grab the phone from my room, feel free to sit down.” You say, gesturing at the two chairs on either side of your tiny breakfast nook.

He just nods quietly, taking small glances around the rest of your house. You find his hypervigilance charming. It makes you feel incredibly secure to know he’s so aware of his surroundings.

You walk off to your bedroom then, leaving him to stand in your dimly lit kitchen.

Instantly, his eyes zero in on the laundry basket full of clothes that’s sitting on your counter. His body moves without his mind’s permission, his heart thrums in his chest once he catches something pink and lacy.

He can’t help but think you’ve done it on purpose, like you’re some spider sitting up in your web waiting for a poor little bug to stumble along and get all caught up. He’s more than willing to be that bug, and so desperate to get caught up.

He grabs the fabric quickly, as it unravels in his hands he sees what it is and his breathing stops.

It’s a pair of underwear, your underwear.

His fingers go all twitchy as he shoves his hood off to expose his pointed ears, wanting to be able to hear your footsteps.

He brings the panties and takes a deep breath in.

They’re not clean.

He has to choke back the noise that threatens to escape when he finally smells the intoxicating aroma. You smell so fucking sweet. His body reacts instantaneously, goosebumps raise on his flesh as he’s dick twitches in his pants.

God he feels dirty, but why should he? You lead him in here, after cooking for him and being so kind. You left this little gift out for him, you had to know what you were doing.

The sound of soft footsteps jolts him back to reality. He shoves the underwear deep into one of his pockets, he’ll keep them as long as he can, preferably forever.

“Sorry it took me a minute, I’m constantly misplacing everything. One of those ‘lose my head if it wasn’t attached to me’ kind of people.” You give a half hearted laugh, which he returns with a cute little chuckle as he takes your phone.

“Oh sorry about the laundry, I’m a bit of a mess today.” Hot embarrassment fills you as you grab the basket of dirty clothes off the counter and hoist it onto your hip.

“Don’t be sorry, you weren’t expecting any visitors.” He assures you, voice soft and soothing.

“I’ll run this to my room and give you some privacy.” You say, turning once again to leave him alone.

As soon as you’re out of the room his shoulders drop and he lets out a quaking breath. Having you so close after filling his mind with your smell pushed him to the very limit. He wants to grab you and lay you out on the counter, rip your pants off and shove his face between your thighs. He wants to drown in every smell and taste you can offer him. He wants to gorge himself on your sweet little cunt.

He can’t think straight. He’s fully hard, his skin is boiling and his mind is fuzzy. He has to get out of here, he has to get to somewhere hidden, Somewhere he can fuck his fist and think of playing with your soft body. Maybe, just maybe, if he stuffs your panties in his mouth he can taste a trace of you.

When you return he says a very quick goodbye, says something about stopping by your shop again so he can see you again. He doesn’t know for sure what words he uses, he’s too focused on getting out before you notice his erection, before you smell the shame wafting off of him in thick waves.

He has to go before he makes a mistake, before he ruins all of his plans.

You follow him to the door to let him out, bidding him goodnight with your gentle, enchanting voice.

You’ll never know that the phone at the restaurant worked fine, that he never even had to call Fatgum. You’ll never know that he stole from you, that he almost lost it and took you home with him. You won’t ever know that he’s not going home now that he’s left your home.

Urgently, he swoops around the corner of your house, heading straight for your bedroom window. His pants feel so tight it’s maddening, he’s frantic, he’s slipping.

As soon as he reaches the bedroom window, his favorite window, he slumps against the building with one arm as the other shoots down to his pants. He takes a quick glance around, noting that the lights in the surrounding buildings are all out given the hour.

He should be safe.

Then you walk into your room, the image of you is distorted slightly by the white sheers you have up, but only slightly, only enough to make you look like some fuzzy apparition.

She uses these curtains on purpose, she wants me to see.

You have no interest in showering tonight, now exhausted and confused. Did you say something wrong? Why did he take off like that? He did say he would see you tomorrow, though, which gives you a bubbly feeling.

You strip your clothes off, and it shreds Tamaki’s last ounce of self control.

You little fucking tease.

You undress until you’re left in your simple white underwear.

Tamaki’s hand is in his pants the second you crawl into bed. He grabs his aching length, thumbing at his head as he watches you shuffle around in the blankets. His mouth waters when he sees your collar bones, his breath hitches when he sees the way your stomach rolls when you sit. He starts to stroke himself slowly when you leave one leg out of your blankets.

His chest rises and falls rapidly as he remembers the precious gift in his pocket.

He snatches the panties out as he watches you move, as he zeroes in on the meat of your thigh. He shoves the fabric of the crotch into his mouth and bites. He bites your panties like he wants to bite your delicious looking legs.

His hand jerks more rapidly as the faintest flavor spreads across his tongue. His cheeks are pink and his eyes start to tear up as he trembles from the euphoria of knowing you this intimately. His hips thrust into his fist as he claws at the panites, pulling the fabric tight as he watches you drift off to sleep.

His mind races through every possible way he would take you. How he would ruin and claim every inch of you. The idea of you shaking beneath him, moaning his name so sweetly, begging him to keep going, maybe begging him to stop, it makes him want to break down the window.

He tongues at your panties, wishing he could swallow your slick. He feels so unbelievably envious of the fact that the fabric in his mouth has been so close to your perfect little hole. The thing he wants to taste the most, feel the most, fuck the most.

His hand tightens around his dick as he tries to imagine how tight you would feel around him. He rips your panties out for just a brief second so he can spit down into his palm, wrapping it around his cock the second the spit reaches his skin.

“Shit- fuck- shit- fucking love you.” He chokes out as his eyes stay locked on your body.

Once the panties are back in his mouth, the free hand flattens against the window.

Then you shift, hips rolling gently as you adjust your position, exposing your cute little ass to him.

“Slut- bad little slut.” He huffs out as he claws at the window. He feels his balls start to seize up as he focuses on his swollen head, fucking it as fast as he can whle he imagines you with your head buried in the pillows as you stick your ass in the air for him.

He tears the panties out of his mouth and holds the crotch of them in front of his dick, drool slips over his bottom lip as he lets out a high, broken moan while he starts to spill into them.

His body quakes and shivers as he squirts rope after rope of hot cum into his stolen prize. Tears wet his cheeks while drool soaks his chin as he strokes himself through his climax.

He chants your name over and over again, watching the way his seed ruins your pretty little panties. In his orgasmic haze, he brings the panties back to his mouth full of his own release, he laps it up as he eyes roll to the back of his head, pretending he’s made you cream yourself, pretending he’s tasting you instead.

It’s filthy, it’s depraved, but he doesn’t care, he needs it, he’d die without it. He swallows the rest of his own cum down with a greedy whine as he watches your perfect form lay there so peacefully.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there, how many more times he fucks his hand while he watches you sleep, only to leave himself covered in sweat and cum and shame. Somehow, he finds himself walking away, as much as it hurts, he knows he can't indulge himself all night.

Once he’s finally home, he collapses, body buzzing and addicted. He sleeps with your soiled panties clutched in his fist. He wakes up with one thought on his mind, he needs more.

#tamaki amajiki #tamaki smut #amajiki tamaki #mha smut #my hero smut #suneater #suneater smut #mha suneater #my hero academia smut #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #bnha suneater #tamaki x reader #tamaki headcanons #mha tamaki #tentacles #big three #fatgum

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marsbutterfly · 3 years

Note

Hey ! How are you ? Can I request an imagine for Hanji x f!reader where they both get reincarnated in modern time ? They both died side by side during the rubbling and when they get reincarnated they both have memories of their past life (they were already lovers). Reader thought she was never going to see her girlfriend again but one day she finds her by chance.

Take care and have a nice day !

Note: Thank you so much for requesting this. I had fun writing it and the prompt was *chefs kiss* so I really hope you like it.

In Another Life

Summary: Reincarnation is the doctrine or belief that the soul reappears after death in another and different bodily form.

Wattpad Version! | AO3 Version! |◁ II ▷|

Cold sweat drips down your face as you bolt awake, digging your nails into the bedsheets. The same nightmare has been waking you up in the middle of the night since you were a child.

In your dream, you are a soldier who battles to save humanity in the fight against titans. Somehow, you always manage to kill the gigantic beings and return safely to the world inside the walls.

Always by your side is a brown-haired woman with glasses, her left eye is missing in most of the dreams. In all honesty, you have never seen anyone so beautiful before and, somehow, you remember her name.

Hanji Zoe.

One day, you stood by her side as the world you’ve once known was being left behind, turned into dust. She held your face in her hands as tears streamed down her cheeks, the feeling of her lips against yours is vivid and you can even smell the apple she had earlier.

The scream of your comrades echoes through the plane and into your brain but all you can focus on is the image of Hanji’s body catching on fire as the same flames burn down your back.

She hits the ground seconds before you do and somehow you manage to land by her side, hand touching hand as her lifeless body begins to cool down. You don’t have much time to think before a titan’s massive foot squishes your bodies at the exact same time.

That’s usually when you wake up, when your lungs and heart explode inside your chest due to the pressure of the step. When every blood vessel in your body gives in to the pressure and bursts inside you.

You grab your phone, only to realize your alarm was about to go off anyway. So instead of trying to go back to sleep, you simply push the covers aside and begin to drag yourself to the bathroom in hopes of getting your day started.

Not every dream you have is a nightmare. Some of them are about a life you don’t remember living: The combination of joy and fear after joining the Survey Corps, the warmth of Hanji’s naked body against yours, the delicious smell of freshly made apple pie coming from the kitchen in the middle of the night.

At nights where you don’t dream about that life, you miss it. You miss being around your friends, being able to move around the trees as if you were flying, you miss her. Her deep, brown eyes are all you can think about and time slips away from you.

Once your morning routine is completed, you decide to go for a run in the park behind your house. Since the sun has been out for less than an hour, it shouldn’t be too busy and you’ll be able to enjoy some quiet time.

As the armband slides up your skin, a chilling sensation travels down your spine and nearly every particle of hair in your body rises, even though you can’t understand why. So you simply shake your head and push the feeling down.

Carefully, you select your favorite playlist and check to make sure your laces are tied but before you can actually look, your phone rings loudly in your ear nearly giving you a heart attack.

Without a second thought, you decline the call without even checking to see who it is and you make your way outside.

The cold breeze welcomes you and the sweet smell of the food cart in front of your house hits your nose. Usually after a run, you reward yourself with one of their delicious crepes and that is enough motivation for you to finish your jog.

At this time, the park is the most peaceful place in the city. No crying babies in their strollers or loud business men walking around on their phone, there is only you and maybe three more people.

Your favorite song comes on and you feel the energy pumping through your veins with every beat. It’s the perfect weather for a run and you silently enjoy the calm that washes over your body.

Your mind wanders back to your nightmares and you start to remember the better part of it. The times Hanji would take you to a secret picnic after she became commander or the makeout sessions in the janitors closet.

In some ways, you could even feel her warm skin against yours, her kiss-swollen lips attached to you by a string of saliva. It nearly feels as if you had lived throughout all of it, but it couldn’t be possible.

You’re so deep into your thoughts that you don’t notice the stick on the floor and, when you do, it’s too late and you’re already halfway towards the ground so all you can do is protect your face from the concrete.

The impact itself isn’t too painful but the humiliation is what stings the most. If only you hadn’t gotten that call before leaving your house, you would’ve remembered to tie your shoelaces and therefore they wouldn’t have gotten stuck on the stick on the floor.

This isn’t the first time the woman in your dreams has caused you trouble. In a few of your memories, she would make too much noise when you sneak out and the Commander would eventually catch you.

Ever since you were young and these dreams first started, you’ve been going to a therapist after the other in hopes of understanding what all of this means and why is it happening to you but all came to the same result: inconclusive.

No matter how many doctors you see, no one can understand why you have such vivid dreams about a war nobody has ever heard anything about or creatures that have never once been proven to exist.

With your ass on the ground, you notice you used the word “memories” instead of dreams and for a second you feel as if all air has been sucked out of your lungs by a massive vacuum.

You shake your head, pushing those feelings deep down inside of you and getting on your knee, preparing to tie your laces when a familiar perfume rushes by you.

It’s faint and quick, probably carried by the wind but enough for you to snap your head backwards. A comforting feeling settles in your chest, warm and fuzzy if you could describe it. That’s exactly how the woman from your dreams smelled like.

You notice a brunette in a bright yellow sports bra turning around a bush not too far away, but you can’t see if she’s wearing glasses or if she only has one eye, like Hanji did.

“Y/N don’t be ridiculous!” You say to yourself, standing up and brushing away the dirt from your clothes, “Hanji is not a real person, she’s like an imaginary friend.”

Forgetting all about your fall, you decide to resume your run. The pain in your foot forces you to go a bit slower than you are used to but nothing too serious.

Once you are done running your laps around the park and begin to make your way back home, a few drops of rain begin to fall on your skin, forcing you to rush home.

As you are eagerly awaiting for the crepe you’ve been dreaming about for hours, the owner of the small cart has a sad expression on his face.

“I’m fresh out of batter. My husband just went to grab some more, it should take a little longer than 45 minutes, I am so sorry Y/N.” He says and you sigh, a compassionate smile on your lips and you nod.

“You will save me the first one you make when he’s back right?” You ask and the man eagerly nods.

“Of course. With banana, strawberry and chocolate, right?”

And you laugh, knowing that the only reason why he knows your order so well is because his crepes have been your breakfast each morning since you first moved into this apartment.

Once you are done with the conversation, you rush up the stairs and immediately into the shower. With a washcloth you gently brush the dirt out of your bruised knee, quietly hissing as the burning sensation takes over.

Even though you know you aren’t supposed to do so, you pour hydrogen peroxide on top of the wound and a scream leaves your throat at every step of the way.

“Today really isn’t my day.” You say to yourself as you begin to wash your hair. A few specs of dirt fall to the ground and a prolonged sigh escapes your lips. Everything just seems to be going wrong: rain, no crepe, fell during a run, what’s next? Waiting in line at the coffee shop for over an hour?

As you stand in line, you realize you should have kept your mouth shut. Even though you ordered online, the amount of people surrounding the pick up area was beyond ridiculous and you were definitely getting late for work.

Once your turn finally comes, you thank silently in hopes that you will be able to actually make it in time. So with your chest out and happiness on your face, you loudly say over the many other voices, “Order for Y/N!”

The guy behind the counter looks confused as he checks every cup individually and you watch over him as he does so. He shoots you a sadden and a little annoyed look and you realize that the “Order” button never got pushed.

Your eyes fill with tears of frustration but you brush them away and take your phone out, repeating your online order to the barista on the register and they write it down perfectly.

Your eyes are glued to your phone’s screen while you wait for a message from your boss but the same comforting sensation you felt this morning is back again. Maybe it’s the smell of coffee that reminded you of the trips to Marley or the crowds of different people around, much like eldians and marleyans.

“I have to get this shit out of my brain.” You say, shaking your head and focusing on typing out a message to your friend, complaining and hoping that you won’t get fired today. You worked too hard to get this job and if they let you go over some 20 minute wait, you’ll raise hell on Earth.

“Order for Y/N?” A familiar voice says but you can’t identify from where.

So you walk to the counter, finally putting your phone away and counting the coffees. Your eyes land on the barista’s hand, who carries your regular order. You reach for it and in a split of a second, your hands touch.

The world around you seems to stop and so does your breathing. When you look at her, you realize she is the part of you that has been missing all along. She’s a real person and not a dream. You look at her nametag, just making sure you aren’t going insane and there it is. “Hanji Zoe”

In that minimal touch, you are bombarded by the emotions of a lifetime ago. The first day you met, the first titan experiment you had done together, the first kiss, the first time you’ve had to kill a titan because she would always get too damn close to being eaten alive.

But you are also reminded of the last meal you both ate, the last nose rub, the last time her lips touched yours, the last hand holding, the last breath you both took before you woke up where you are now.

And just like that, feelings you didn’t know were possible for you to have emerged from deep within your chest as if a box that has been sitting deep inside the closet has now just been opened. It even seems like the world has just gotten a bit more colorful.

Tears shine in your eyes as the coffee you just waited so long for hits the ground. With a smile on your face, you wrap your arms around her neck and pull her over the counter. It doesn’t take her more than a second to seal your lips together.

Her breath tastes like the hot chocolate she had earlier that day but it still manages to awaken butterflies that laid dormant in your stomach throughout your entire life. It’s not until your phone rings in your pocket that you are brought back to reality.

“I’m so late for work!” You smile at her and rush out of the store, the container with the other cups in your left hand.

“Wait!!” A voice screams from just outside the coffee shop and you immediately turn around to see Hanji, her hat in her hand as she comes closer to you. “I knew something was missing my entire life and….”

“And now I realize it was you.” You two say in perfect unison and she nods.

“Why don’t we start over? This time, without any titans around.” She asks and you smile.

“Hey, I’m Y/N.” You say, extending your hand.

“I’m Hanji Zoe and I would love to take you on a date sometime.” Hanji meets you in the middle, shaking your hand.

“I really have to go.” You say and a frown appears on her face, you have to fight the will to quit your job and start a nice, little life in the woods with her. Something you’ve always talked about but sadly never got to have.

“I’ll wait for you right here then.” She says, letting go of your hand slowly and you immediately touch the back of her head and bring her in for a long kiss while still managing to keep the cups in your hand still.

This time it was not a goodbye kiss. It was simply the second first kiss you’ve ever had with Hanji and hopefully, it will not be the last.

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tossawary · 3 years

Note

I need to know more about “SVSSS - Baby Brother Liu Qingge” bc I love tiny and very deadly baby LQG

I have a 3k-ish Shang Qinghua POV that was supposed to be the introduction to this fic concept! So... ah... baby Liu Qingge does not appear in this, but you can see the setup for how an 8yo-ish Liu Qingge was supposed to be introduced. My hope is that this will someday become a "Shang Qinghua and Shen Jiu go on a mission with Baby Brother Liu Qingge" one shot.

-cut-

Shang Qinghua didn't really have the words to describe what it was like having Proud Immortal Demon Way's characters finally come into his second life.

He didn't have the words to describe a lot of his transmigration experience, honestly! His words had described a lot of this world already, haha, hadn't they? Sometimes a person just had to put up with it and keep going.

And then excuse himself later to go scream into a pillow! Many times!

At first, life was just him in a body that didn't fit and strange memories that slipped between his fingers like sand. His memories of a past life had settled eventually, the System finally came fully online, and his relationship with his second family was fully fucked forever. That was fine, though! That was fine! With some unsolicited prodding from his System, he left to go seek his fortune soon enough and he never had to talk to his character's birth parents or siblings again.

But Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had never said much of anything about Shang Qinghua’s family or home village, besides saying that the man had dreamed of more than his mediocre origins, so everything had been unfamiliar and original and real. Getting to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, which he had described in great detail, was a real headfuck. There were no words for the experience of recognizing things that he’d written in another life.

He saw the glistening rainbow bridge and the intimidating sect entrance and the majestic meeting hall on Qiong Ding, and he nearly screamed. He definitely squawked. His vision got really fuzzy for a minute there and he had to sit down on the ground before he fell over. What the fuck?! What the fuck?! He’d made a world! The System had really made a world out of his web-novel! He was really stuck in Proud Immortal Demon Way!

There were upsides and downsides to joining Cang Qiong Mountain Sect. Downsides included: the hard training, the harder workload, the dangerous missions, the disrespect towards An Ding Peak, and being surrounded by arrogant and foolish teenagers looking to look down on someone. It was really something else to look some of them in the eye and think, "Bro, I don’t know your name, but you kind of owe your existence to me. Could you stop being such a fucking asshole about leaving your chores for me to do?! Respect your father!"

Upsides included: actually becoming a cultivator (pretty cool, even though the work of cultivation sucked more often than not), better living accommodations and food, and actually getting to see some of the cooler places, plants, monsters, and magic that were a part of his world. Sure, carting a monster corpse brought in by Bai Zhan Peak to Xi Jiao Peak for butchering was smelly and heavy and altogether miserable, but seeing an impossible animal was still kind of incredible. If this unwilling Shang Qinghua could stop being pushed around and stepped on long enough to appreciate the upsides, he’d really appreciate it!

It was interesting and infuriating to log the differences between what he’d imagined, what he’d written, and what the System had created. What sort of author described every single object in every single room? Who had time for that? Who wanted to read that? The System had filled in all the living details of An Ding Peak - the Leisure Houses, the training grounds, the storehouses, the warehouses, the kitchens, the lesson halls, the leisure gardens, the farming fields, the livestock fields, the stables, the cart lot, the water supply, the sewage systems, and so on - so that people could actually live here. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky as an author had done many things worthy of complaint and criticism, but wasting his readers’ time with sewage systems was not one of them!

The System had also filled in all the little details and decorations - the paintings on the walls of sect history, the detailing on the rooftops supposedly offering protections from dream demons, the chipped and faded paint of old storehouses that disciples would be tasked with replacing, the statues in the fields to scare off scavengers, the carvings on the doors meant to reduce resentful energy, the childish etchings of bored students the surface of the lesson hall desks, the old bench where the An Ding Peak Lord liked to sit and eat flatcakes - so that it really seemed like people had built this place and maintained it and added to it for generations.

Shang Qinghua had his quibbles here and there. Sometimes the System had made choices that he objected to! He would have done it differently if it had asked him, the author, to contribute. He really felt as though the System should have asked him to clarify the plot holes and the gaps in detail, instead of choosing precedence randomly or building off random implications taken way too literally.

Sometimes he found out that the System had built things out of throwaway lines that Shang Qinghua himself had completely forgotten about. It turned out that Ku Xing Peak made a lot of purification tools and containment vessels because Airplane had offhandedly mentioned that this was their specialty, and now Shang Qinghua had to cart around delicate ceramics to be sold to city merchants or other cultivation sects. He never would have dared to write that if he’d known that it would one day in another life be his job to do things like take inventory and chase down signatures for successful deliveries.

Places, items, and creatures were one thing, but logging the differences between the people he met and the characters he’d created was something else. At first it was okay, because he was surrounded by nameless An Ding Peak nobodies - his fellow disciples, their teachers, the hardworking managers and merchants, even the peak lord - none of them had ever mattered in Proud Immortal Demon Way. If Airplane had been the one to name any of them, he didn’t recognize the names or remember them.

Then he met Yue Qingyuan.

Wow, it was a worse headfuck than first arriving at Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, when Shang Qinghua finally realized that this was the young version of one of his actual characters. It took him a minute. As a lowly outer disciple, Shang Qinghua hadn’t received “Qinghua” as a name yet (his name was Houhua, not that anyone ever used it) and the future Yue Qingyuan was still called Yue Qi.

Shang Qinghua was fourteen at the time. Yue Qingyuan must have been around the same age, so he didn’t strike the tall and handsome figure of the sect leader Airplane had described. The boy was broad, but actually a little short. He had freckles. He had acne.

But he also had a warm smile that seemed to go all the way to his eyes when he offered to give Shang Qinghua directions to the right office on Qiong Ding. He had a steady hand when he helped Shang Qinghua up, after the An Ding disciple had suddenly tripped over nothing upon being introduced. Yue Qingyuan - Yue Qi - walked him to the right office and did his best to make small talk, friendly and kind even though Shang Qinghua was having difficulty stringing more than a few words together in his shock.

Even then, it was obvious that the boy was developing the calm surety and the social charm that would make him a greatly admired sect leader someday! It was all Shang Qinghua could do not to blurt out: “Holy shit, you’re REAL?!” Which would be closely followed by: “Hey, is Shen Qingqiu really real too?!” And then maybe closely followed by: “FUCK!!!”

As the years went by, Shang Qinghua met more of Proud Immortal Demon Way’s characters, and it was weird every time. None of them were exactly like he was expecting. He kept expecting… well… he kept expecting them to look like the fanart, like flawless character models, more or less. Instead, he kept getting… people.

Wei Qingwei, head disciple of the sword-focused Wan Jian Peak, was also shorter than he was expecting, kind of stout, with a wide face and a wider smile. Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky had apparently had the man crack a few jokes upon his rare appearances in the web-novel, usually during tense situations, as he was reminded by the System upon thinking to himself: “Why is this guy LIKE THIS?!” So, because of just a few lines, the real Wei Qingwei had a relentless sense of humor and loved telling jokes.

Upon their first meeting, when Shang Qinghua was fifteen and had been sent over to help renovate some Wan Jian dormitories, fifteen-year-old Wei Qingwei had pretended to fumble a sword and, using a packet of dye and a sleight of hand, made it look like he’d accidentally cut off his own hand at the wrist. Of course Shang Qinghua had screamed and panicked! Anyone would panic! But Wei Qingwei had laughed at him and said, “Got you! Shang-Shidi, the sword wasn’t even unsheathed!” Asshole!

Qi Qingqi, the head disciple of Xian Shu Peak, was much taller than he was expecting. Apparently Airplane had once described a group of some of the peak lords by saying something like: “Each one of them was like a giant to young Luo Binghe.” That group had included Qi Qingqi. The System apparently had taken that to mean that Qi Qingqi was of a height with the likes of Yue Qingyuan and Shen Qingqiu. Shang Qinghua discovered this adaptational choice when he was almost sixteen, when this giraffe-like girl came to An Ding Peak to complain about an order someone along the pipeline had dropped completely, and he accidentally found himself (still waiting on a really good growth spurt) eye-level with Qi Qingqi’s chest.

Airplane had apparently once said in Proud Immortal Demon Way that Qian Cao Peak Lord Mu Qingfang appeared a little older than his colleagues, by which he’d probably meant that the man was just tired or something, but this head disciple Mu Qingfang appeared to have ten years on all the other head disciples. Which was good! Shang Qinghua approved of their future head healer not being a teenager and having more training!

On the bad side of things, Airplane had also once said in Proud Immortal Demon Way that the Zui Xian Peak Lord Zhang Qingyan liked his drink too much. This was the peak specializing in alcohol, so it had seemed to make sense! It was supposed to be funny, if anything! Well, at sixteen, Shang Qinghua found out that the System had focused too much on the “too much” part of that statement and now the head disciple of Zui Xian Peak was pretty clearly a budding alcoholic. (Sometimes a cultivator’s constitution and ability to “cure” themselves just… made a person drink more. A lot more.) Which was… not good.

At seventeen, Shang Qinghua met Mobei-Jun.

He didn’t know where to get started with Mobei-Jun.

Somehow he’d… forgotten that Mobei-Jun had been originally based on Airplane’s idea of “the perfect man” and not the super pretty, muscular but slim-waisted protagonist type? The real Mobei-Jun was… tall… and big… and thick. Mobei-Jun’s intimidating features were… more striking than pretty. The first time Shang Qinghua had come back to his Leisure House and found this spoiled brat of an ice demon napping shirtless on his bed, and gotten an eyeful of all that heavy muscle and chest hair, he’d nearly knocked himself out on the doorframe trying to turn away before he had a heart attack.

Mobei-Jun really was going to be the death of him, holy shit.

Especially because this ice demon really was a spoiled brat! Airplane had described this character as being arrogant and apathetic, so now Shang Qinghua had to deal with a Mobei-Jun who took long baths and then carelessly dripped water all over the floor and all over fresh sheets! Who ate all of Shang Qinghua’s cooking and ungratefully only demanded more food, sprawled over furniture not really fit for someone of his size, and then watched Shang Qinghua like a fat tiger! Ahhh, this demon really was lucky he was handsome!

Mobei-Jun was also kind of violent, and mean, which was… well, it sucked.

Back to the sect that Shang Qinghua was now actively betraying, however, as far as he could see, there was still one future peak lord missing.

It wasn’t Shen Qingqiu, who Shang Qinghua had thought would be the last one to show up. Shen Qingqiu had shown up and had been advancing through the ranks of Qing Jing Peak before Shang Qinghua had even met Mobei-Jun, which meant that Yue Qingyuan had finally stopped looking like someone had torn out his soul. (Shang Qinghua had been forced to grit his teeth every time that someone mentioned how privileged that Yue Qingyuan was to have been granted that year of secluded cultivation in the Lingxi Caves at such a young age.)

No, of all the peak lords, it was Liu Qingge who Shang Qinghua had yet to meet.

After meeting Mobei-Jun and becoming an inner disciple, the System had given Shang Qinghua three years to make it to head disciple, probably because the deadline for a new generation of peak lords to ascend was fast approaching. He was working hard to achieve that! Not only did he have to sabotage the current favorite, but he had to make sure all his own training, missions, work, and research were as close to flawless as he could get it! All while keeping an intruding ice demon happy! He wasn’t totally sure that he was going to make it at this rate, even though he’d been here for years.

So it was a little concerning that Liu Qingge hadn't shown up yet. There was so much left to do. A world-state that had yet to be established. Liu Qingge had work to do here!

Liu Qingge and Shen Qingqiu still had to develop a hatred for each other as disciples that would extend to everyone believing that Shen Qingqiu had murdered Liu Qingge as peak lords, after all. Granted, all Liu Qingge really had to do was beat everyone else on Bai Zhan Peak up to obtain the position, and it wasn’t exactly hard to get Shen Qingqiu to develop a lifelong grudge, but the guy was still cutting it pretty close.

It was possible that Liu Qingge was already on Bai Zhan Peak and making good progress, but that he was just so solitary and focused on searching out the next big battle that Shang Qinghua had just never had the opportunity to meet him. Shang Qinghua did his best to avoid Bai Zhan Peak most of the time, honestly! He was curious about where Liu Qingge was, about what the man looked like, but he didn’t let himself sweat at not seeing the future war god, when he already had so many things to sweat about. The System had taken care of bringing in everyone else, so Shang Qinghua was sure that Liu Qingge would follow sooner or later.

Shang Qinghua’s first sign that something was wrong was that, on the day that Liu Qingge finally announced his existence by beating up everyone on Bai Zhan Peak, everyone was saying things like, “I can’t believe some kid managed to topple all of Bai Zhan like that!”

He… may or may not have ignored this sign.

To be fair to this poor writer-turned-disciple, though, he’d been up all night finishing some paperwork catastrophe the An Ding Peak Lord had thrown at him to fix, as some kind of “test” of his logistics skills. Upon hearing the latest gossip, Shang Qinghua thought, “Oh, finally?” And then his overtired brain collapsed from the effort of thinking two words together in a sentence, and all he could manage from there was to feel the intense need to go to bed at a maximum, static-y volume. No words. No more thinky thoughts. Just the need for speedy sleep.

He stumbled through the rest of his day and then passed out for 18 hours straight. In hindsight, this would have been the time when the gossip was at its hottest. He missed all of it.

When he woke up, everyone was still dealing with the aftermath of what had happened on Bai Zhan Peak, but the conversation had shifted more towards replacing Qian Cao Peak’s depleted supplies and the repairs to Bai Zhan’s training grounds. Liu Qingge was the name on everyone’s lips, still, but everyone knew the basic information now. Now, everyone was just exclaiming over and over again how unbelievably young (and pretty) he was to have bested every other disciple on the sect battle-focused peak. This didn't seem too strange.

The System probably would have based the War God's appearance on his sister, Liu Mingyan, a strong contender for the most beautiful woman in all of Proud Immortal Demon Way. Liu Qingge apparently being a very pretty boy fell neatly into line with all the other character design surprises that Shang Qinghua had gotten smacked with so far.

If Airplane had known that he'd be transmigrating into his novel, maybe there would have been even more handsome men! And everyone would have lived happily ever after and nothing bad would have happened ever, probably, but also there might be more sexy guys too.

TBC

#timetomakeanewwish #tossawary updates #tossawary svsss #shang qinghua #unrealistically young prodigy liu qingge au #ask tossawary

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thephantomessoftheopera · 3 years

Text

Notes on Gaston Leroux‘s „The Phantom of the Opera“ - Epilogue

<< Previous chapter “It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known”

-Charles Dickens, “A Tale of Two Cities”

As we are coming to the end of the story, Leroux ties up a few more loose ends in the epilogue.

As for Raoul and Christine, their possible happy ending is only implied by what Erik told the Persian - that they had “taken a northbound train” and were planning to get married in secret. They have disappeared from the world, and Christine never appeared again on stage anywhere. According to Leroux, they might have finally settled in Norway together with Mama Valerius. At first, I thought Leroux might have been confusing Sweden and Norway, but when I did a little research on the name „Daae“, it turns out that the name is actually most prevalent in Norway, with almost no occurrences in Sweden. It is also implied that even if they took that “northbound” train before, Christine took a train back to Paris a few weeks later to return to Erik, because she had the wedding ring on her when she left, and it was finally found on Erik‘s finger.

As Philippe‘s death was deemed to be the consequence of the fight between the two brothers over Raoul’s supposed engagement to Christine, Raoul was a murder suspect - but as his previous testimony had already made him appear a lunatic in the eyes of the Commissary, Philippe‘s death was ultimately pronounced accidental. However, as Parisian society had taken less than kindly to the news of the engagement, I think that the couple would have had a very difficult standing if they had officially married and assumed the now vacant titles of the Count and Countess de Chagny. It is therefore likely that Raoul, having officially disappeared, never claimed his titles and inheritance, and chose the more simple lifestyle that Christine was accustomed to. Leroux concludes the story of Raoul and Christine with the statement that one day, he too might „hear the solitary echoes of the Northland repeat the singing of the woman who knew the Angel of Music''. In the epilogue, the boundaries between the „false“ and the „real“ Angel of Music become blurred, as Leroux repeatedly speaks of Erik as the “Angel of Music” - indicating that maybe, just maybe, Erik truly was the Angel of Music.

After following up on Raoul and Christine, Leroux relates how he obtained proof of Erik‘s existence from the Persian, mostly through the letters written by Christine that Erik had sent to him, but also through the testimonies of Meg Giry and La Sorelli. He supposedly placed all the proof he had gathered in the archives of the Paris Opera.

He also obtained the testimony of M. Poligny, the previous manager of the Opera. The „Opera Ghost“ affair was the final straw that made him resign his post, which again indicates that Erik‘s reign as „O.G.“ was rather short and caused by Erik falling in love (since he had been living in the Opera House presumably since the early 1870s). He also quotes from the fictional „Memoirs of a Manager“ by Armand Moncharmin, where Moncharmin relates that a few days after Christine‘s abduction, Erik returned all of the forty thousand francs he had extracted to the managers, no longer having any need for the money as he had given up his plan to marry Christine. The mystery of the safety-pin is also finally resolved, as Leroux was supposedly able to locate a small trapdoor in the floor of the managers’ office, through which a dexterous magician like Erik could easily have reached up and retrieved the envelope from Richard‘s coattail pocket as it was hanging down from his chair.

Leroux also notes that the marble pillar next to Box 5 sounds hollow and would offer ample space for Erik to hide inside it. According to Gérard Fontaine’s research, the pillars being hollow applies to all the pillars in the auditorium of the Palais Garnier. Whether that proves or disproves anything is up to you... Leroux’s plan of having the lake drained in order to obtain the ultimate proof of Erik‘s existence - finding the entrance to the house by the lake - did not go through, but Leroux still sustains his hope of one day finding the score of „Don Juan Triumphant“ there (that is, if Christine had not taken it with her when she came to bury him).

Leroux then gives a summary of Erik’s life according to the Persian. Erik was born near Rouen in France and ran away from his parents as a young boy, as they were afraid and horrified by how he looked. After being exhibited as a “living corpse” at fairs, he became a singing sensation and garnered a reputation that reached as far as Persia. The daroga of Mazenderan was sent to bring Erik to Persia as entertainment for the “little sultana”. Erik, who also worked there as an assassin, is described here as amoral, “not knowing the difference between right and wrong”. Even though he does not have an evil heart, his life up until this point has left him completely without a moral compass of any kind.

After building an ingenious palace for the shah, Erik’s execution was ordered so that he could not divulge its secrets to anyone. The daroga was supposed to carry it out, but as he owed Erik favours (and was the one who brough Erik to Persia in the first place), he helped him escape instead. He was punished for this and went into exile to Paris. Erik took a detour to Asia Minor and Constantinople before he ended up in Paris as well. It is also mentioned that Erik could make lifelike automata, which is reflected in the musical in the form of the monkey music box and also the “mirror bride”, a physical representation of Erik’s dream of a loving wife.

Once in Paris, Erik decided that he finally wanted to live a normal life, and placed a successful bid to work as a contractor on the Opera House. Wishing to hide his face from the world forever, he built his comfortable home into the foundations of the Opera. Erik’s plan to live out the rest of his life in peaceful tranquillity went well - until he crossed paths with Christine Daae and lost his heart to her completely. And the rest is history…

Leroux here gives his own view of Erik: “He had a heart great enough to hold the empire of the world, and in the end he had to be content with a cellar.” With a normal face, Erik, with his brilliant mind and extraordinary talents, could have had the world at his feet. And even though no one had ever loved him, he still had a heart capable of feeling deep, pure love, which is pretty remarkable. His beautiful voice is a reflection of the beauty he carries inside his soul - which was sadly eclipsed by his ugliness, which did not allow him to live “like everyone else”. The great tragedy of his life was his face, which kept others from treating him as a human being and recognizing his full potential. He is therefore clearly worthy of pity, instead of being cursed and condemned as evil.

Leroux had already mentioned in the Prologue that he believed the skeleton found in the cellars of the Opera was Erik’s. Now he finally reveals why he was so certain of that: because Erik’s skeleton wore the gold wedding ring on his finger, which Leroux believes Christine had placed there. Even though Erik had set her free and given her the ring, she later came back to him, and this time it was certainly not out of terror. With Erik dead, none of his threats would hold any more sway over her - and yet, she still returned to him to keep her promise. She not only buried him with the wedding ring, but she slipped it onto his finger, ultimately fulfilling her promise to accept him as her husband. In a sense, she buried him with her love, and that is truly a bittersweet and beautiful ending. After everything he had to endure, Erik’s life ends with a kiss and a ring on his finger, put there by the woman he loved more than his own life, and with Leroux praying for his salvation. That may not be a traditional happy ending, but it‘s very powerful. And it’s definitely not a villain’s ending.

As „Faust“ is the most strongly referenced work in „Phantom“, it is also worth comparing how the endings are different. In the final act of Gounod‘s opera, Faust and Marguerite first swear their love to each other, but when Marguerite sees Mephistopheles and realizes who Faust really is, she turns away from him and chooses death instead, while Faust is dragged into the fires of hell. Her famous last words to him are „You horrify me!“ In „Phantom“, the progression is almost the other way round - Christine is horrified at first, but then accepts Erik and chooses life instead of death.

It should also be noted that the ending in the novel is so vague that it also allows a lot of room for the reader’s imagination. Was Erik really dead when Christine returned? He himself was announcing his death, so it would not even be so very unlikely. But as this is Leroux’s story, the official reading would of course be how he himself imagined the ending: Erik dying and Christine coming back to bury him. This might be my favourite line from the novel:

“The skeleton lay near the little fountain, where the Angel of Music first held the unconscious Christine Daae in his trembling arms after taking her into the cellars of the Opera.”

As if the return of the ring was not enough poetic closure, he also asked to be buried in the very spot where he held the love of his life for the first time...

Symbolism and Metaphors

Now that we have concluded the epilogue, I would like to add a few more notes on the general themes which are present throughout the novel and still influence how we feel about it today.

To understand the extent of symbolism employed in „The Phantom of the Opera“, it is necessary to understand the cultural mindset and environment in which it was written. At the turn of the century, the arts (and sciences, as evidenced by the slowly emerging works of Sigmund Freud) were rather obsessed with the fateful connection between Eros and Thanatos - love as the life-bringing force, and death as the destructive force. Both were often seen as intertwined and mirrored in the other.

Erik is the personification of Eros and Thanatos. He unites both forces in him to a degree unparalleled by any other character in the story. The death symbolism that is also clearly reflected in how he is described, would be both perceived as horrifying - and yet not without a strangely seductive fascination inherent in it. Death is intricately tied to darker feelings of passion and desire.The “Eros” and the “Thanatos” part of his character are intertwined, but his character also oscillates between the two sides in the course of the story.

Music in „Phantom“ also serves as a metaphor for romantic love, not only in the spiritual but also in the physical sense, as it is connotated with “passion”, “fire”, “ecstasy” and “rapture” throughout the story. Erik’s teaching awakens “an ardent, voracious and sublime life” in Christine, symbolizing the burgeoning romantic feelings in the young woman. She is terrified with the changes going on in her, which is also in line with how „Eros“ was originally viewed: as a frightening loss of control. Erik says in “Apollo’s Lyre” that “some music is so formidable that it consumes everyone who approaches it”, and Christine states that “Music has the power to abolish everything in the outside world except its sounds, which go straight to the heart”. In both sentences, the word “music” can easily be replaced with “love” - especially in Christine’s example, it would be the musical equivalent of “love is blind”.

Like in other (gothic) romances - “Wuthering Heights” being perhaps the prime example - the two rivals in the principal love triangle represent two very different types of love: one is intense and passionate, but also consuming, terrifying and potentially destructive, and the other is safer, but also somewhat chaste and lifeless. Erik and Raoul each represent one of the two extremes. This contrast is exemplified in the scene at the Masked Ball: Raoul wears white, the colour of innocence, while Erik wears red, the colour of passion, but also of danger and blood.

It is suggested in the novel that Erik and Christine were chained together by fate (“La destinée m’enchaîne à toi sans retour”), and I believe they were destined to save each other. Erik saved Christine from her grief in the wake of her father’s death and brought her back to life, and Christine saved his soul by being the first person in his life to accept him and grant him true happiness. „Phantom“ may be a tragic love story, but it is also a hopeful one, as love proves stronger than death. Christine’s choice, Erik‘s sacrifice and the skeleton’s wedding ring are all symbols of love triumphing over death.

#phantom of the opera #lerouxreadingguide #leroux phantom #gaston leroux #leroux erik #christine daae #erik x christine #le fantôme de l'opéra #the phantom of the opera #erik the phantom #raoul de chagny #opera ghost #classic literature #gothic romance

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 3 years

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too soon to tell, chapter t w o

You dropped your bag in the foyer of Harry’s house after work on a Thursday. It was quiet--he wasn’t home yet and you’d keyed in knowing that you’d have some time to yourself.

You felt a vibrating in your pocket when you shrugged off your coat, your visible reflection told you it was a FaceTime call, Alyssa’s name danced across the screen until you slid your thumb to answer.

“Hello, hello,” you greeted, walking to find a seat on the couch.

“Where are you?” She furrowed her brows as she took in your surroundings.

“At Harry’s--he’s out, though.”

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I will never get sick of you lounging in his house when he’s not there.”

You rolled your eyes at your old roommate’s antics--she’d always been the number one supporter of your relationship and when you texted her earlier saying you needed advice, she promised to call on her lunch break.

“I’m not lounging,” you informed with a shake of your head. “I just got out of work, we’re having dinner tonight.”

“Mr. Popstar isn’t too busy?” She teased, aware of the tension both of your schedules had been causing.

“Apparently not.”

She forked a bite of food into her mouth, the sun was shining through the window behind her, the walls of your old apartment were redecorated now with the art of your replacement. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“Sort of,” you leaned back and let out a breath. “I mean, it’s all connected--”

“What is?”

“I’m getting to it,” you made a face at her through the phone. “So--don’t freak out, okay? Cause I don’t even know if anything will come from it and Harry doesn’t know yet.”

She nodded and gestured with her hand for you to get on with it.

Knowing Alyssa, she was already jumping to conclusions in her head. You were pregnant, you were engaged, you quit your job, you had a huge fight with your sister. No, no, no.

“I interviewed for a job in LA...and I haven’t told Harry because all our friends have been so excited about us being in the same spot again but--”

Her eyes went wide at the mention of a US city, she did her best to hold back her smile until it faded when you said: “I don’t know. Something feels off between us.”

“Off between you and Harry? More than just being busy?”

“I’m probably overthinking it but,” you looked around his living room. Pictures of his mum, his sister, his cousins--even his manager--were tucked in frames and placed on shelves. There wasn’t a trace of you in his house except for the toothbrush upstairs and the key on your keyring.

“It feels like we’re not moving forward. And we’ve both been busy, like I’ve told you, but since we don’t live together sometimes we go days without seeing each other and it’s fine, I get that he’s busy, obviously, but--”

“But you want to move in with him.”

“Well, I don’t know--I did, sort of, I think--but then I heard about this job in LA and it sounds amazing but Jessie just moved here and no one will shut up about how great London is.”

Alyssa offered a sympathetic frown and repositioned the bowl in front of her to get another bite. “What’s the job?”

You almost didn’t want to tell her, sure she’d get excited and eager to have you back in the same country. You winced a little, bracing for her reaction. “S’with E! News,” you shrugged. “It’d be on-air.”

“Shut up! Are you serious?!”

“Yes m’serious,” you rolled your eyes. “But I haven’t told any of them because you know how they are.”

She nodded, “Jessie will not want you to take it.”

“God love her, but of course not. And Harry spends time out there, so it might be okay, but it’s not like I could ask him to go with me.”

“Why not? He’s famous, Y/N--he belongs there.”

“It’s too soon,” you whined. “He’s not my fiancé and we don’t live together, so--I don’t want to make it weird.”

“But you love him,” she reasoned.

“Yeah, but s’been weird lately!" You tried to drive home the point. "He’s made no mention of moving in and we’ve been dating for a year and a half, I’ve been in London for over a year now. He’s not even mentioned it, Alyssa, I swear. He’ll say things like ‘one day we can go on vacation,’ and ‘what should we do for Christmas?’ But he’s made no concrete plans to actually have a future with me.”

“Maybe he doesn’t think you’re ready.”

“Maybe he’s not ready,” you volleyed.

“Maybe,” Alyssa shrugged. “But you won’t know if you don’t ask him.”

“But if I ask him and he’s not on the same page I’ll look like an idiot and he’s busy with the album and now I’m thinking about moving to LA and--”

She watched you, waited for you to say more, but you were out of words. You changed gears.

“Maybe we’re just not meant to be long term.”

“Oh come on,” she groaned. “Not this again.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Your whole ‘we should have left it in New York’ shit.”

You lifted your eyebrows to demand further details.

“You were freaked out in the beginning that you’d move back there and it would be weird.”

“And?”

“Was it weird?”

“Not at first, I guess. But I mean, come on---don’t you think we should have taken some kind of step forward by now? Even just mentioning the idea of moving in together?”

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “Maybe it’s different with someone like him.”

You rolled your eyes--what if that’s what you were sick of?

People always said that: it’s different because of his job, it’s different because he’s on the road, it’s different because he’s famous.

Of course it was, and that was fine, for a while. But what if Harry’s job always got in the way of feeling normal? What if you couldn’t have a real wedding because of it? What if you could never send your children to summer camp because of it?

Were you willing to sacrifice your own future to live an unconventional life with someone just because you loved him?

“When will you hear back about the job?”

“Dunno--talked to them last week on Monday and they said this week at some point. S'been a while, so hopefully soon.”

You’d been keeping busy, trying to avoid your personal email at all costs and also making sure that Harry had limited visibility of your screen at all times.

“Do you want it?”

You thought on it for a second. Being offered a job at a company like E! would certainly be an ego boost, but the mere thought of having to explain to all of your friends that yes, you’d been back in London for 18 months and now you were packing up and moving even farther away than before wouldn’t be easy. That seemed to be the one certainty in the whole situation: no one would take it well.

“I don’t want to leave everyone here, especially Harry--but I also don’t want to be stupid and think that this relationship is going somewhere if it’s not.”

Alyssa nodded and let out a sigh. “I get that, I mean, of course you have to do what’s best for you. But I’d hate to see you not be with him just because things are hard right now.”

You leaned your head back on the couch and sighed. You didn’t want to break up with Harry. If anything, you wanted to move forward and move in with him and do what you’d always imagined: have a good job, have a few kids, try to be happy.

But what if you’d been naive enough to think you could have all of that with Harry and what if this is how you were finding out that you couldn’t?

Were you still stuck in your teenage fantasy of marrying the boy you'd long been crushing on?

She watched you for a second before she reassured: “you’ll figure it out.”

You smiled, glad you’d called Alyssa if only to have someone talk you off the edge a little bit. You missed waking up one room over and her love for basketball games and New York 99 cent pizza.

“Well it’s not like I have to make a decision right now,” you said. “I haven’t even heard back from them. For all I know they could never reach out again because I bombed my interview.”

She rolled her eyes at your self-deprecation and offered a few final words of encouragement before you hung up and promised to catch up soon.

Ever since you’d left, Alyssa had taken it upon herself to keep you up to date on the ins and outs of New York. New restaurant? She’d send you pictures and a 200 word review. Crazy subway rats making the news again? Articles and video proof would be sent your way in a matter of hours.

She’d gotten a new roommate to fill your bedroom and apparently things weren’t always peachy between them. Peyton was quiet and shy--according to Alyssa. She was up every morning at 6am and in the shower at 6:30. She did yoga in the living room and hated it when Alyssa left empty beer bottles on the coffee table.

Alyssa was starting to lose her shit, swearing up and down that she needed to either pull the trigger and move in with Owen or find a new place altogether. It was my apartment first, she’d say. She should leave, not me.

It had been hard that year to leave the city you’d grown to love but harder to leave Alyssa and Carly and the things that made New York feel like home. It was also, in hindsight, hard to leave the place where you and Harry reconnected and built the foundation of your current relationship.

You heard commotion from the front door only a few minutes later when you rummaged through Harry’s kitchen for a snack.

“Hi,” he called from the other room, a close-lipped smile when you stuck your head around the corner to greet him.

“Hi! How was the photoshoot?”

“Good,” he nodded, watching as you stuck your hand into a box of crackers. “What time are we meeting everyone?”

Right--Thursday also meant dinner somewhere downtown with everyone in tow.

“7pm--but Jessie said we should try to get there early since it’s a new place and no one’s ever been.”

He nodded in acknowledgement of your words but seemed distracted, like his mind was somewhere else and his body was the only thing tying him to the room.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking back up at you. “Just a busy day and a busy week.”

You nodded, unsure if he wanted to say more or if you were supposed to have more of a reply than a simple nod of your head.

You’d both been stammering out awkward sentences and trying to dance around the elephant in the room for a few weeks, but now, under his gaze, you felt more uncertain than before.

“Are you okay?” He turned the question around and watched you closely.

“Yeah,” you shrugged, moving to sit on the couch.

“You seem--off.”

You didn’t know what it was. Could he possibly sense the tension in your shoulders as you waited for an email either way? You got the job! We regret to inform you…

Or was he just aware that you felt awkward since it had been almost two weeks since you had any considerable amount of alone time and even longer since you were able to have a date night that wasn’t interrupted by Jeff or Erica or someone who needed something from him.

He took a few steps closer towards you, a look of concern etched on his features. “What’s wrong?”

The words were on the tip of your tongue when he looked at you, eyebrows lifted as he waited for you to spit it out.

“I guess I feel like we’ve been distant.”

He pushed his head forward, almost like he hadn’t expected that to be the issue. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, caught off guard by his pushiness. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought it up.

“You don’t know?” He pressed.

You broke eye contact with him for a minute, wondering why you had to state the obvious. “Well, you’re busy all the time, Harry.”

He let his shoulders rise and fall in defeat, looking around the room in frustration. “I told you that finishing the album would be busy.”

“Yeah, but you forgot to mention that you’d also be busy when the album is done once promo starts and then tour,” your voice was quiet, not so much angry as you were upset.

You were tired. You wanted nothing more than to spend a night on the couch with him and only him, tell him about LA and about the sudden itch you felt to see more of the world than just London.

But with Jake and Adam always around and Bryn and Jessie, too, paired with interruptions from Jeff and Erica--it felt as if there was no hope for a private or honest conversation.

He came to sit closer to you on the couch now, took your hands in his. “I know my job is a lot, okay? I know it’s annoying that I don’t necessarily get weekends off or have a typical schedule, but once the album is out and the promo is done I’ll have a bit of a break before the tour. We can go on vacation somewhere, just us.”

It sounded nice, maybe a tropical island or a cabin in the woods. But before you could nod in agreement the thought of Los Angeles popped into your head.

His album was due out in December, promo from now through the New Year, some time off in February and March for both of your birthdays and then tour. You had no clue where you’d be by then.

Would you be in LA? Would you be in London? Would you be stuck in this same spot on his couch with decision paralysis and a crushing sense of uncertainty about the future?

He knew you were over-thinking and tilted his head. “What?”

You blew out a slow breath of air, twisted a ring on your finger and then looked up at him again.

You didn’t even have a chance to be more honest, a buzz on your phone on the coffee table in front of you both broke the room in half, the name of the woman you’d spoken to was in bold next to your email icon. You reached for it quickly, Harry’s brows furrowed when you pulled it close to your chest so he wouldn’t see.

“What’s that?”

Hi Y/N, thank you so much for your patience over the last few days. We would love to offer you a position with NBC Universal - E! News as an on-air correspondent in our Los Angeles headquarters.

You looked up at him quickly, cheeks red and heart racing.

“What’s happening, are you okay?”

“I got a job offer,” you said quickly, still holding the phone close to you.

“What?” He smiled, “why didn’t you tell me you were looking? I didn’t even know--”

“It’s in Los Angeles.”

His smile faded instantly, he blinked a few times like he must have misheard you. The leather of his couch felt cool beneath your legs, a clock on the wall ticked and for a second, you wondered if he could hear your pulse as loudly as you could.

He pulled his eyes away from you but then quickly scanned over your face. “Are you taking it?”

“I don’t know,” you said honestly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Silence, words filled your brain and crawled up the back of your throat, desperate to be said out loud, in real life, instead of just circling in your head.

Because I don’t know what we’re doing or if we’re moving forward. I don’t know where I want to live. I don’t know if I can stay in London forever. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

Only the last part made it out between your lips. “I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” he stood up, more angry now as he looked around the room and scratched at the base of his neck. “This kind of feels like a bombshell to drop on someone.”

“I was going to tell you--but we haven’t had a second alone, I just didn’t want to have to tell everyone before I knew what was happening.”

“You didn’t even tell me you interviewed,” he said.

“The last time I saw you alone we got interrupted by Erica three times in one conversation.”

“Probably for a good reason--”

“But you seriously can’t even put your phone down lately when we have dinner, even when everyone else is there!”

“I can’t help it that my work is insanely busy right now!”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” you said this quickly, voice higher than usual and a heat on your skin that he normally didn’t provoke, at least not in a bad way. You stood from the couch and put your hands on your hips. “I don’t know what I’m going to do and I don’t even know if this job is right for me and under no circumstances are you allowed to tell anyone. Especially Jessie.”

He rolled his eyes at that.

“What’s the eye roll for?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Everyone just got back and now you might leave and--”

“I said I don’t know if I’m going to take it.”

He was quiet at that, clucked his tongue in thought but then disappeared upstairs to shower and change.

The car ride over was awkward, he asked how your day had been and you told him you talked to Alyssa, he bristled when you admitted you told her about it.

It wouldn’t be the end of the conversation, you were sure of that. You’d likely end up at his for the night and he’d apologize for being busy, you’d apologize for not telling him and maybe, you hoped, he’d ask you to stay over.

When you greeted Adam with a hug, you ignored Harry’s sour mood and opened the menu in front of you.

“My first dinner as a Londoner,” Jessie smiled, shimming her shoulders in excitement when Bryn looked over the specials across the table from you.

“This is on you, right? New job, new salary?” Jake teased.

“Maybe if I hadn’t just bought a whole new bedroom set,” she rolled her eyes.

“How’s everything with you?” Adam eyed Harry, his question veiled to avoid too many details in public.

Luckily, Harry’s ability to go out in public in London was similar to that in New York. As long as a private room or a table in the back was requested, he could typically get away unscathed if dinner was less than 2 hours and if he had his back to the dining room.

“Fine,” he shrugged, eyes still down at the drink menu.

“Fine?” Jessie leaned forward, her tone insinuating that she didn’t believe him. “You’ve been working really hard all summer and now all you say is ‘fine?’”

He glanced up at her, lips in a forced smile. “S’all good, Jess--just tired.”

Bryn gave you a look, one that asked what stick is up his ass?, before she changed the topic.

“Let’s not tell our server how fit she is tonight, yeah?”

Jake let out a snort of a laugh and sipped at the water that had already been brought to your table. “Alright, you thought the one last week was just as hot as I did.”

“I did,” Bryn agreed seriously, “but I didn’t offer my number unsolicited. How do you know she’s even straight?”

“She’s got a point,” Jessie chimed in. “Remember when you asked that girl to dance in the club when her girlfriend was right there with her arm around her?”

“I thought they were just mates!” Jake defended.

“You also have the worst radar for gay women ever,” Bryn nodded.

“When was this?” Harry asked, the hint of a smile on his face when he watched Jake adjust his napkin on his lap.

The words came out of your mouth without thought. “You weren’t here--you were in LA.”

He met your eyes when you replied, nodded, and then leaned back in his chair, effectively bowing out of the conversation without saying another word.

You weren’t trying to be short with him. You looked over to Jessie, who undoubtedly sensed the tension, and offered a smile. “How’s the flat?”

“Good,” she nodded. “Glad that all my furniture got put together without any scratches,” she reached over and patted Adam on the shoulder.

“We’re not children, Jessie, we can handle some furniture.”

“You broke my dresser when I asked you guys to move it into another room,” Bryn reminded, a look of confusion on her face at Adam’s retort.

“Only because it was already half broken and a piece of shit,” Jake said. “I love you, Brynnie, but that dresser was already knocking on Heaven’s door.”

Harry let out a laugh at that, another memory that he had missed while on a trip to a studio somewhere north of London. He excused himself to the bathroom after you placed your orders, and once he was out of earshot, Jake leaned down and looked at you.

“What’s going on with him?”

You forced a cheesy grin and blinked a few times. “He’s just grumpy.”

“‘Bout what?” Bryn asked.

“Guys,” you leaned back in your chair, hoping you didn’t have to say too much. “I can’t tell you every single thing that happens in our relationship.”

“Well, when it affects us I think we have the right to know,” Jessie shrugged, playing the typical we don’t like when our parents fight card.

“It’s not affecting you,” you shook your head, eyed her seriously over your glass of Pinot Noir.

Adam shrugged, a smirk on his face let you know he was trying to rile you up. “He’s grumpy at dinner and we’re all here and we’re all aware of it. We don’t like tension between you two.”

“Alright, leave the woman alone,” Jake waved them off. “As long as everything’s alright.”

“It’s totally alright,” you nodded, wondering when you’d gotten so comfortable lying to them. “He’s just busy with the next phase of work.”

With Harry’s album yet to be announced, you couldn’t sit around in a London restaurant and divulge details--even if you were all acutely aware of the work he’d put in and the upcoming announcements and events.

Adam let it go. “How’s work for you, Smalls?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “s’good--I told you all about my November cover story, right?”

“Yeah,” Jessie sipped a glass of Cabernet. “But you said you didn’t know who it was going to be with.”

“Well, s’cause I had to drop the bomb on him first,” you nodded in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll be sitting down in a few days with Ms. Gigi Hadid,” you lowered your voice and leaned forward to say her name.

Bryn’s eyes went wide, Jake grimaced.

“How’d he take that?” Adam asked.

“He’s not thrilled,” you admitted. “But I’ll talk with his team about what to avoid specifically, I guess. Her team will probably have a list of off-limits items too.”

Bryn let her elbows rest on the white tablecloth. “Yeah, but, you can’t just ignore the fact that she’s dating Zayn.”

“I also can’t just barge in and stir shit up,” you said.

Harry pulled his chair out next to you and sat back down. “Who are you stirring shit up with?”

Everyone chose to be quiet now--Adam looked down at his phone and Jessie reached for her wine again.

“Just telling them about my cover story,” you admitted, watching his face for a reaction.

He nodded, a tiny smirk in your direction. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t stir shit up,” he said, reaching to put a hand on your thigh beneath the table.

Those were the moments that made you feel less panicky--the realization that he was still choosing you and even when the tension was high and the mood was low, he’d reach over and remind you that yes, he cared. Even if he was late to dinner or distracted.

Which is why, when you got back in his car that night and headed for his house, you were surprised when his mood shifted again.

“I’ll just drop you at yours?”

“Oh--yeah, sure.”

“Did you want to come to mine?” He looked over at you like he hadn’t expected any resistance to sleeping separately.

You were quiet for a second--not if he didn’t want you there. “No, it’s fine.”

“I can’t read your mind, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to,” you said quickly, a prickly tone to your words when he made an unreadable face.

He drove in silence for a few minutes, closing in on your neighborhood when the street lamps disappeared for the sake of suburbia.

Eventually he cleared his throat and that sent you over the edge.

“What do you want me to say, Harry? Do you want me to apologize for interviewing for this job?”

“No,” he said simply. “I just don’t know why you thought you didn’t need to tell me about a huge decision like that.”

“It wasn’t a decision until today when they offered it to me.”

“Just seems like something you talk to your boyfriend about.”

You looked over at him in the dark of night, the glow from the dashboard didn’t help you see his features as he turned left onto your street.

“Well, sorry that we didn’t have the opportunity to talk about it between your work schedule and Jessie moving in and group dates--”

He slowed down on your street, put his flashers on when he stopped in front of your building. “I don’t want to keep secrets from each other,” his voice was softer now. “I don’t want to not know what’s going on in your life. I did enough of that for two years when we weren't talking.”

You sighed at this, the sentiment broke whatever anger was lurking inside you and when you looked up to see him, you wondered if you should ask him.

Are we ever going to move in together? Are we ever going to get engaged?

You figured the lead up to his sophomore album wasn’t the best time for that conversation. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you climbed the stairs to your flat alone.

A few days later you sat nervously in a conference room and watched as beads of sweat formed on the water glass in front of you. Tyler had brought you in, offered you a breath mint, and promised you’d be fine. When you asked him if the whole room was hot he said it was just you and your nerves--but the droplets of water that raced towards the wooden conference table begged to differ.

You’d gotten email after email this morning: one from Jeff with the rules he and Harry had come up with and eight from Gigi’s team with requests for snacks, topics to discuss, topics to avoid, lunch request, arrival and departure time, and a few extra regarding booking her photoshoot the next day.

A text lit up your screen when you tried to smooth your your hair in the reflection of your screen.

Jake Newcomb (10:42am): In case you’re wondering what to get me for my birthday, a video of Gigi Hadid saying she loves me would be perfect!

You ignored his text and felt a pang of disappointment in your gut, you thought it would have been Harry with words of encouragement.

He was fine with you doing the interview, he seemed to come around to the idea when he met with Jeff and had a chance to mark some things as off limits.

So far, his list was as follows:

Don’t publish anything too negative about anyone in the band (if she says anything negative about anyone in the band)

Harry and Jeff got to listen to the taped interview

Harry and Jeff got to read the article before you sent it off to your editor and could make suggestions to cut things if they felt it necessary.

It seemed silly, but you’d long been used to the lingo of contracts and riders and ground rules for things like these. You knew both Harry and Jeff trusted you, in fact, Jeff was now choosing to see this as a good opportunity for press before the announcement of Harry’s album.

Your biggest concern, truly, was not looking/sounding/acting like an idiot in a room alone with Gigi Hadid. Your second biggest concern was conducting a unique interview and writing a unique article.

You knew that Naomi and Tyler were nearby for support if needed, Tyler had already walked by the conference room three times to see if your subject had arrived and likely to make sure you hadn’t sweat through your blouse. You thought the commotion in the hallway was him until you saw a group of busy-looking people with cellphones and sunglasses.

“Hi,” you stood from your chair, extended a hand in her direction and offered your best professional smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Gigi, thanks for doing this interview.”

She seemed hesitant at first, smiled a little and shook your hand. “Happy to,” she said. She turned over her shoulder and locked eyes with the woman who seemed to be the most in-charge of the group. “I’m good,” she nodded.

They hustled out quickly, you stood frozen in place and watched as she took off her coat before sitting in the chair you’d pulled out for her. Once the door was shut behind her posse, she let out a sigh that bled into a frustrated laugh.

“I could never do an interview with all of them just loitering around--wouldn’t that be so weird?”

You nodded, mirrored her smile and had to remind your body how to move. Left foot, right, breathe, sit in the chair.

You weren’t really one to get star struck, but then again, you didn’t spend too much time with celebrities that weren’t Harry or his close friends. You certainly never sat down with a model like Gigi to have a conversation that could be as awkward as this one.

She checked her phone quickly but then put it face down on the table. “I am happy to do this, I know it might feel weird for us to be hanging out--but boys are stupid anyway.”

You smiled at this, immediately relaxed when she leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs.

“Did you also get a whole list of things to not talk to me about?”

She stifled a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Zayn can be a man of few words but,” she looked down at your phone on the table. “Off the record--he had quite a bit to say when I told him you were doing the interview.”

“Off the record,” you laughed, “Harry did too. But how is Zayn?”

“He’s good--thinking about getting back in the studio at some point to start working on a new album, he’s been writing a bunch. Harry’s doing the same I assume?”

“Yes, yeah, he’s been really busy.”

“I know things might not have gone great between all of them at the end, but I don’t want this to be awkward for us.”

“Me neither. You can say as much or as little about the band as you’d like.”

She nodded, you figured it was time to give your pre-interview spiel.

“So, I’ll record us in a few seconds, you can obviously say ‘off the record’ if there’s something you don’t want me to include, but I like my interviews to be like conversations, basically. I’ll send someone on your team the recording when we’re done and a typed transcript. You’ll have 48-hours to look over it and revoke any statements that you don’t want me publishing or to clarify anything. After that I’ll write the story, send a final copy to your team before it gets finalized here, again, 48-hours to look it over and request any changes but at that time we don’t have to approve the requests. This is all in a document somewhere that someone probably signed for you--I’m sure your team is used to it, they know what they’re doing.”

You reached forward and pressed a few buttons on your phone, she watched until you looked up and told her: “It’s on now, so we’re recording and today is September 10th, 2019.”

She smiled like you were old friends. “Where do we start?”

“Is there somewhere you want to start?”

She leaned her head to the side. “We can jump right to it--”

“To what?”

“Oh come on,” she laughed. “Us talking about One Direction will make headlines for weeks.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “It’s funny that us just sitting down together will be a big deal, right? As if we’ve got nothing better to talk about than them.”

“Sexism at it’s finest,” she admitted.

“Do you find that a lot in your industry?”

She thought on this for a second, looked out the window but nodded. “It’s unavoidable, in a lot of ways. I think there have been a lot of changes over the last few years to at least move us in the right direction, but we’ve got a long way to go.”

“How would you want to see it change for the better?”

“Well, I’d love to have more privacy about my love life, for one,” she caught herself, looked to you quickly as if she felt bad. “Off the record, we can talk about it here, it’s fine. It’s different to talk about it with a woman, number one. And you’re you, you get it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you offered.

“No, I don’t mind. Unless you plan on asking me stupid things like how amazing is it to be dating someone as handsome as him or do I find that his job overshadows mine, we’re good. We can be back on the record, too,” she looked down at the numbers on your phone, eyeing the ticking of the recording clock.

“But do you know what I mean? No one asks guys questions like that--or they’re different, at least. People just want to know everything about your relationship when you’re a woman and they view you in the context of who you’re sleeping with.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I get that.”

She smiled, “it’s hard to date someone famous, isn’t it? Lots of rules around it.”

You were surprised by the genuine look in her eyes, despite her own status and contracts and income, she seemed to be acknowledging that the two of you shared a unique experience and were now brought together under strange circumstances.

“It’s definitely hard for me--but, isn’t it easier seeing as you also have an assistant and a manager and people to, I don’t know, facilitate things? Not to invalidate how hard it still is.”

She laughed at that, “Yeah, in some ways, probably. He’s really private though, which is good for us. We focus on ourselves and do our own thing most of the time.”

“Right--you seem pretty private about it for the most part.”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, reflecting on your words for a second. “I think to me it feels weird that my relationship status can make so much news, you know? Modeling is my job and obviously that’s not your typical nine-to-five but--I like to focus on my work and when male journalists are continuously obsessed with my love life, I find that weird. I mean, you get that, right? I’m sure it’s no different with Harry.”

You bit your lip, embarrassed at how she’d managed to turn it around. She was right--you’d been getting more and more annoyed with how much your relationship with Harry was dictating your life--and for some reason, you admitted this to her.

“People are much more interested in me because I’m dating him--but they’d be just as interested in you even if you weren’t.”

“Would they?” She tilted her head to the side, another rise and fall of her shoulders as she looked around the room. “I get what you’re saying, but sometimes it feels like dating him gave my career a huge boost. I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, I totally get it. I feel the same way. I was building my career in New York and it was going well and I was writing fun stuff and making a name for myself and then I started hanging out with him and--”

“Everyone started to care more about you?”

“Exactly.”

You thought about the headlines, the articles, the pictures in tabloids that undoubtedly helped your name spread like wildfire through London and New York. You had to ignore it, most of the time, reassure yourself that you were a good journalist and a good employee and the good things in your career were not just a byproduct of the boy who slept in your bed.

She smiled knowingly, her lips in a thin line when she looked down to the tape recorder, almost like she felt guilty for steering the conversation in a different direction.

“Sorry,” you cleared your throat, sitting up straight. “Back to business.”

The conversation bled into more normal things: the upcoming fall fashion week, how she manages self-care when she’s busy jetting from city to city, and, try as you might, the two of you wound your way back to your commonalities a few times: sexism in your industries, life as young women dating famous men.

You thanked her profusely at the end and promised that Tyler would be in touch to confirm the date and time for her corresponding photoshoot later that week. She draped a Versace leather tote over her shoulder and seemed to float out of the office with a posse of beautiful people behind her.

You stood--still awestruck--in the hallway and watched as the elevator doors slid shut.

“She’s prettier in person,” Tyler said from beside you, a notebook in hand as he stared at the air she’d once occupied. “I didn’t know if that type of thing was possible but she’s definitely one of the prettiest humans I’ve ever seen.”

“She was nice,” you turned around to see Naomi behind him, also eager for more details. You headed back for your office in a trance, they scurried behind you as you thought aloud. “I mean, I didn’t think she’d be rude--but I didn’t know what to expect with the whole band history stuff.”

“Did you talk about that?”

“Less about the band and more about--” you blinked a few times and sat down at your desk, “sexism, what it’s like to be a woman dating a famous man and how that affects your career.”

Both of their eyes went wide, a smile tugged at Naomi’s lips when Tyler put a hand over his heart in shock.

“I’m sorry, so you’re telling me that you just had a heart to heart with Gigi Hadid about sexism and your boyfriends and--”

“I guess so,” you shrugged, just as surprised as they were.

You gave Harry fewer details that night over FaceTime as you brushed your teeth. He was somewhere in New York, disappointed that he’d miss Jake’s birthday dinner and celebration, but he promised to make it up to him when he got back.

He lifted a cup of tea to take a sip, light shone through the window behind him on your screen and he scrolled through emails on his laptop.

You spit into the sink, an ocean between you.

“Have you thought at all about the offer? You have to tell them by tomorrow, yeah?”

You nodded, wiped at your mouth with a towel and then crossed your arms. “I can stay, I mean--if you want me to.”

He made a face at that, leaned forward and furrowed his brows together. “Of course I want you to stay, Y/N, but I don’t want to be the reason you pass on something important."

You were quiet for a second, uncapped lotion before spreading some across your forehead.

"I'm sorry I didn't react well when you told me. I'm proud of you and it sounds like a phenomenal opportunity...I don't know, it's just the timing of it--"

You cut him off, “well none of this is ideal timing, Harry.”

“Do you mean with my album?”

“I mean with any of it,” you said truthfully. “The album, the job offer--”

“Well the album existed before the job offer,” he trailed off.

Only a matter of seconds and a handful of words had managed to get you elevated and angry and ready to fight. That was happening more easily, these days.

“So what am I supposed to do? Always come second? Make every decision in my life based off of your career and your music?”

“S’not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that--I dunno--I thought you knew what you were getting into.”

Quiet, your hands gripped the counter in your bathroom. Your bare feet were on the floor and you wondered why you were trying so hard to make everything work if things were only getting harder.

“That came out wrong,” he shook his head, the look on his face let you know he wanted to take it back.

“No, it didn’t." You let out a sharp laugh. "I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Take the job,” he said quickly, like he saw you reaching for the button to end the FaceTime call.

“What?”

“Take it. If it’ll make you happy, take it.”

“And what about us?”

“We figure it out,” he shrugged. “We try.”

You sighed, unsure what to say.

"It's Los Angeles," he said. "Not Antarctica."

You blew air between your lips, looked up at him for a second. The curl of hair that dipped onto his forehead, the way his mouth pulled up in the corner like it always had.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

His words didn’t offer any relief and you spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, tossing and turning and wondering how on earth you were supposed to make a decision.

Leaving him in London felt stupid. A few bumps in the road and you were ready to jump ship?

But staying and hoping for a ring or a shared address felt even stupider, somehow. You couldn’t pass up a dream job and hope that things would go well for your career if you weren’t going to work for it.

A few hours of rest came after 3am, your morning coffee was a tad bitter and the clouds in the sky seemed to match your mood. Maybe you should have spent more time thinking it over, talking it out, even calling your mum or Katie for advice.

But you couldn’t have told everyone about the job offer without a certain answer, and unfortunately, the person you wanted to talk to the most didn’t seem like he could be impartial.

You’d been upset, you’d been feeling disconnected from him, but that didn’t erase all of the good times and the happy memories you’d made, right?

Naomi and Tyler locked themselves in your office for lunch on Friday, they promised that they’d never tell your boss and they swore they supported you either way. Tyler used an expo marker to make a pros and cons list of staying in London and Naomi came up with a points system for each bullet on the list.

You stared at it, looked at the names of all of your friends, your family, your favorite cafes and restaurants in London. At the very bottom of what had become a long list of reasons to stay was his name.

And on the other side, Tyler’s poor drawing of an engagement ring sat beside a big question mark.

You didn’t know what the future held for you and Harry, and maybe that was okay. You didn’t know what would happen when you packed your life into a suitcase and moved to New York, but you’d survived to tell the tale.

They were quiet, eyes darting from the board back to you as they waited for you to say something.

You sighed, Tyler shifted on the couch in your office and Naomi smoothed out her blouse.

“I can’t take it,” you said.

Tyler’s eyes went wide, “really? You’re staying?”

“I can’t leave,” you shrugged. “I can’t leave him behind and leave my friends and start all over in a new city right as I’m really finding my groove here again.”

“Okay, I know we said we’d support you either way but I would have been fucking pissed if you went,” Tyler admitted, moving closer to wrap his arms around you.

You laughed, let him squeeze you before Naomi joined in.

“Me too,” she confessed, a smile on her face when she pulled away. “But I would have at least faked happy for you.”

You bit back the doubt and second-guessing, used their excitement to fuel a regretful email.

Thank you so much for the opportunity, but after careful consideration I cannot accept this position due to the geographical location.

Your thumb hovered over the small blue arrow, a wave of panic flooded through you when you hit send, like somehow, something inside of you knew that everything was about to change.

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AN: apologies in advance for the cliffhanger......except I'm not sorry lmao

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whereisten · 3 years

Text

The Interview

A Doyoung fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: you’re a journalist that just booked her biggest gig, an interview with Doyoung, a vampire notorious for a series of murders in your city.

Pairing: Vampire!Doyoung x female reader

Other characters: Best friend!Johnny

Genre: horror, angst, smut, violence

Word count: 8.7 K

Warnings: blood mention, descriptions of murder and violence, cursing, smut! (Threesome (MMF), breast fondling, fingering, male masturbation, oral sex, penetration, slight overstimulation, c*eampie.), mentions of chains and knives.

A/N: I am sorry for taking so long to post this, but I hope you enjoy!! I didn’t proofread (shocker) so there may be some errors but I will fix them later. THANK YOU GUYS AGAIN FOR THE SUPPORT FOR OUR HALLOWEEN SERIES AHHHH!! It’s been so much fund and I hope you guys enjoy the last few fics we have coming up!!

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You entered the house and walked hesitantly inside, looking around to observe all of the meticulous paintings and art. The mansion was dark and gloomy, it sent a chill through your body to imagine all of the horrors and secrets it held within it. So much murder, so much blood and death. And yet, it was kept in pristine condition by a loyal maid. Not a speck of dust in sight, and no stench to even indicate a single crime having been committed.

You sat down in his office on a cushioned loveseat before you placed your recorder on the coffee table in between your seat and his.

You heard the jingles of his handcuffs and the many footsteps of police entering a few minutes after.

He sat down across from you as you cleared your throat. You noticed his irritated and burgundy red wrists being burned by the handcuffs around them made of pure silver.

He was stunning, like a painting himself. His skin looked like it was made of the most expensive marble, his eyes looked playful, but held a dark glint about them that you couldn’t shake. His arms were in front of him as his hands were held together by the handcuffs, you couldn’t ignore the obvious presence of his biceps as they strained against the thin material of his long sleeved prison uniform. His veins also bulged from his wrists all the way to his neck.

The devastatingly handsome man looked...hungry.

His tongue darts out over his bottom lip as he watches you observe his features.

“Oh, a pretty one for once, thank God.” He smirks.

You look at him sternly and press record on the mechanism in between you two.

“Good afternoon, Doyoung, my name is y/n. Today, I’ll be asking you a few questions about the crimes you’ve committed, but first, I would like for you to confirm your identity.”

You hold your iPad in your arm and start to type a description of his features and what he is wearing.

Doyoung laughs.

You stop writing and look up at him.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m chained up in my own house, and not in the sexual way for once…”

You look back to your iPad.

“Unless..you’d like to change that..” he says with a low tone that makes your body shiver.

“Doyoung..you’ve just been sentenced to a lifetime in prison for the brutal murders of 36 people. I’d appreciate it if you’d just answer a few questions so we can both go about our day.”

“Oh dear, I won’t tell you anything unless you get these barbaric things off of me, and get these useless men out of here.” He tilts his head towards the police officers behind his seat.

You shake your head. “No can do Doyoung, you’re a danger man, if they leave I’m done for.”

He chuckles lowly. “Don’t you trust me, sweetheart? My maid is no longer here, she testified against me and fled the country, so obviously I have no intention of ruining my place with anyone’s blood while she’s gone.” A smile crosses his face and it makes you uneasy.

You shouldn’t have done what you did next, but for the sake of writing a damn good article for Neo chronicles, you knew you had to. This trip would’ve been a waste of time and effort. It took you months to convince your boss to get you an interview with Doyoung, the notorious vampire that was just found guilty of capital murder.

He could tear you to shreds in moments with his hands and teeth, but something told you to ask that he be free..just for a few minutes.

He leans forward and keeps your eyes in his gaze. “You want them to release these cuffs, don’t you?”

You swallow hard then look up at the head police officer.

“He won’t cooperate unless you leave and take the handcuffs with you, please…” you beg, but the officer immediately shakes his head.

“Under strict orders from the judge, we cannot do that. It’s a miracle that we were even allowed to bring him back here.”

The tall man says without budging.

Doyoung turns to look at him. “Officer...these cuffs really hurt..it’ll only be for a few minutes..please.”

The officer furrows his eyebrows.

“Officer..I promise it’ll only take 15 minutes.” You continue.

“Fine...we’ll be right outside the door.”

You’re surprised to see that the officer agrees. He takes his key and opens up the cuffs. He then places them beside you on your chair.

“Slap these on the son of a bitch if he tries anything.”

You nod. A part of you felt so uneasy now that you were alone with him, but you had to make the most of it and get some information out of him while you could. No one could do what you were about to do, for Doyoung would be put away for life in a few days.

The door clicks and the room falls silent.

Doyoung turns to you and already starts to heal his wrists. “Well, then...should we get started?”

“Where are you from?” You ask.

He raises an eyebrow and throws an arm over the head of his seat.

“I’m from this city, dear.. I was just raised in a very different one...a few hundred years ago, without the cars, without the noise..”

“You’re the first of your kind that society has come across. Are there any more like you?”

He chuckles then looks at you and tilts his head. “There’s no one like me..”

You lick your lips quickly and lean forward. “Are there any more vampires, Doyoung?”

“Of course there are, some lurk in the shadows, some live boldly as the very doctors that take care of you. No one from my bloodline is alive however.” His gaze shifts downward as if he’s reminiscing.

“How do the vampires survive without being caught?”

He looks back up at you. “We just feed on animals to get by.”

Your heart began to race, you were finally getting information that no one else knew about, for Doyoung never spoke a word to investigators looking for answers about vampires.

“So why did you feed on humans and kill them instead of changing them?”

“For survival, sweetheart. I’m a man with very expensive taste..I’ve been killing humans for years, but I got lazy and decided to not run from city to city..I’d take out anyone that was evil or treated others like shit..some of my victims deserved it, but I’m sure you already knew that.”

You looked to the side. You did notice that he mainly killed other murderers or robbers.

“Furthermore, humans have polluted the earth so badly, the taste of animals that feed off of diseased grass is just disgusting. I couldn’t take it anymore.” His face winces.

“And human blood..is it good?”

Doyoung smirks. “Oh, my love, you have no idea. It’s sweet and savory, there’s nothing like it..and if I may say, it’s even better when the subject surrenders willingly.”

“Did your subjects surrender willingly?”

He looks up and tries to think. He taps his chin. “No..I don’t think any of those bastards surrendered, they were quick fixes to my thirst. There was one woman though..Hmm what was her name?...Was it Diamond or Daisy?”

You closed your eyes as you listened to him struggle to remember the names of his victim.

“Darlene..her real name was Darlene, but she went by Tiffany at the strip club she worked at.”

“Ahhh! Yes! Darlene..she was sweet, magnificent. I remember taking her in the back of my car, she was ecstatic. She felt amazing around me, so warm. Her body shook as I stretched her out and played with her beautiful womanhood..such a shame.. she was so willing.”

You swallowed hard as tears filled your eyes. Doyoung was making light of a dark situation that ended in the murder of a young woman just trying to live her life.

He leans forward to get your attention. “First..I tasted her lips, then I placed my tongue around her hard nubs. I traced my tongue down her abdomen and all the way...down, before letting it rest on her folds. I licked up her essence and listened to her moan and breathe heavily. I can still hear the rush of her blood in her veins. I can still taste her trembling core on the tip of my tongue, and feel her velvety walls around my fingers.”

You cross your legs as his voice lowers more and more with each sentence.

His dark eyes hold onto yours as his smile grows. He can smell the pool building in your underwear.

“In and out, I moved in and out, circling around her bud before she came hard all over my mouth. But I licked it up and kissed her thigh as she begged for more. She tasted delicious and brain became flooded with thoughts of just how wonderful her blood would taste too. So I wrapped her legs around my waist and pushed into her, sliding in between her delicious and wet folds and hitting her sweet spot over and over.”

“Doyoung..” you turn away and gulp, but he grabs your chin within a split second of standing up in front of you.

He tilts your head upwards and gazes down at your lips.

“I placed two fingers into her mouth...just like this.”

On instinct, your mouth falls open, allowing him to place two fingers onto your tongue. Your mind went crazy, half of it screaming for you to look away from the dangerous man, the other half saying “yes, God, yes.”

You sat with your mouth agape, waiting for him to continue.

“If only you could taste her...nonetheless, when she came again, her eyes rolled in the back of her head and the veins of her neck stuck out to me, begging to be punctured into. I sucked her dry even as she clenched around me from the overwhelming pleasure.”

He withdrew his fingers, licking them as his eyes held onto yours.

“Your lips must be delicious too.”

You snapped yourself out of your daze and shook your head.

“Doyoung, what the hell?”

He sits back into his chair. “Any more questions, love?”

You clear your throat again and look at your iPad.

“Uhh..what are your abilities?”

He smirks. “Well, I’m sure you can imagine one of them. But in addition to that, we are fast, strong, powerful beings. Some can read minds, some can hypnotize..we are what humans aim to be, perfect beings.”

Your face grows into one of disgust. “With the exception of having the burning need to murder, right?”

He chuckles once more and rolls his eyes. “Humans kill all the time, what makes us so different if we do it for survival? Murders are done out of rage against those that are simply different in terms of religion, ethnicity, or sexual orientation all the time, why aren’t you interviewing those bastards?”

You hesitate.

He leans towards you and crosses his arms.

“What if you could make this world a better place by getting rid of those that commit crimes against the helpless? I can see that you’re one that believes in justice.. you can be like me, but use your abilities for good..”

You shake your head. “Absolutely not, you’re a monster. Just because you killed for survival does not negate the fact that you still took many lives.”

He leans back and nods. “Oh, pity then. I thought I’d have a partner for my getaway. I would’ve loved to keep such a pretty face by my side..”

Your eyes widen, you lean back and reach for the handcuffs..but they’re not there.

He jumps up from his seat.

You stand up as well. “What are you doing?”

But within seconds, your arms are behind your back and locked in the handcuffs that he stole from beside you.

“Doyoung!”

He pushes your body so that it lays back down on the love seat. You stare in horror as he crawls over you while looking up your scared face through his lashes.

He licks his lips.

“Thank you for giving me this chance to get away..”

“Help!!” You call out and soon the police break through the double doors.

Doyoung flicks his head towards them and holds out his hand. “Halt!”

He yells and they stop in their tracks.

You cry out. “Doyoung!!” But he’s already dug into each and every one’s necks and ripped into their throats.

Blood platters across the room and the bodies fall down dead almost unanimously as Doyoung moves incredibly fast. He appears as a blur one moment and the next moment, he is over you again, but this time with the lower half of his face covered in crimson liquid and his eyes intense.

He licks your collarbone, slowly trailing his tongue up your neck then to your chin. You tremble and cry as your heart races.

“Mmmmm...sweetheart, I’d take you right here, but you’ll taste so much better when you give in to me completely, I’ll see you soon.”

He disappears, you only hear the breaking of a window behind you.

You close your eyes tightly and sob.

The police officers that were outside in their cars immediately run into the house when they see that Doyoung has flown away.

They open your handcuffs and console you as you turn away from all of the dead bodies on the floor.

When things finally settled, you noticed that Doyoung had taken your recorder, leaving you without proof that this interview even happened.

———

[3 Months Later]

A national manhunt for Doyoung had been going on for months, no one saw the man or..creature. The good part about his absence was that there were no more killings. You tried your best to explain what happened that day, but you couldn’t. Everything felt blurry, all you could feel was this longing to be with him again. He had you under his grasp in just a few minutes, but that partially wasn’t your fault. You were hypnotized, just as the police officer taking him out of handcuffs was.

But you couldn’t help but feel guilty when you thought about the lives lost that day, the families that weren’t with their loved ones anymore because of your weakness. You swore it would never happen again.

You were released from your job at the Neo Chronicles, your boss was embarrassed and dealt with the harshest treatment from not only the legal system, but from the media as well. No one understood how such a huge mistake could be made. They had him and were ready to punish him for his crimes, but in just a few minutes, they lost him, the only vampire known to man.

You worked from home now, uploading conspiracy theories to your own website where people could submit photos, videos or written accounts of their experiences with the supernatural. They could do this anonymously if they wished. You wrote about Doyoung and the vampire community, you even went out at night at farms or in the woods to try to catch vampires in the act of taking blood from them, but you had no luck.

You would set your life to finding Doyoung, you’d make him pay for what he did to you. Even if you were intrigued by him, you’d make him suffer. However, you couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t kill you as well.

———

[One Month Later]

You were about to do some research on cult practices that involved sacrifices, when you heard a knock at your door. You jumped up in your chair at your desk and turned to the door.

You swallowed hard. Had you done too much digging? Was someone tracking you? Were you being watched all this time?

Maybe you shouldn’t have visited the dark web.

You stand up slowly and walk to the door. You hear another knock.

You grab a tennis racket you placed by your door after playing tennis earlier that day. You then look through the peephole and see him.

Your heart started to race. Should you call the authorities? Should you scream for help? No. They would just be too slow, they’d be gone by the time a shriek escaped your throat.

You quickly opened it and held up your racket.

“Ah!!!” You yelled as you swung it, but he grabbed it with one hand and broke in two effortlessly.

Your eyes widened as he stood there with one corner of his mouth tilted upwards. His eyes sparkled in the darkness.

Your jaw fell open while the rackets ripped to your doorstep in two separate pieces.

“Invite me in...I have the recorder.” He demands through a husky tone.

You breathe heavily. “I-I..”

“May I come in...sweetheart?” He pouts.

You sigh and nod. “Yes.”

You didn’t want to but he had the evidence that you needed. Maybe you could just take it from him and he’d leave. With that piece of evidence, you could get your job back or make money online with your testimony.

Doyoung speeds past you and sits at your desk.

“Ooooo..satanic cults...interesting!” He searches through your computer.

“Hey!” You lock your door and walk towards him.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“How have you been doing, my love? Have you been well? Probably not...seeing that you’re stuck at home now, researching this nonsense.” He ignores your question and stands up from the desk.

You walk after him into the dining room.

“Answer me! Why are you here?”

“Have you thought about my proposal? You’ve had a lot of time..”

“Why didn’t you turn yourself in?!” You grab a knife from your kitchen counter and hold it behind your back.

He takes a look at your 4 day old pizza on your stove top and gags. “You and I both know I wouldn’t dare out well in prison.”

“So why the hell are you here?!” You say a little louder.

He turns to you suddenly and flips you around. In just a few seconds, he pins you against the wall with your cheek pressed against it and your hands behind your back.

You grunt as he presses in your back with your elbow.

“Did you know that you’ve been on my mind every night since that day?” He forces the knife out of your hand and trails the tip down the side of your face.

You wince as you anticipate it breaking your skin, but he only drags it down your neck delicately and watches goosebumps decorate your skin.

He flips you back around so you face him now, he looks down at your chest and breathes heavily over it. He still holds both of your wrists in his hand, clenching his fist around them tightly as you squeal.

“The way you smell, the way you feel, the way you taste...it’s all haunted me..I want you so badly..”

You blink rapidly. “If you want to kill me, why don’t you just do it already.”

Doyoung chuckles and hangs his head low.

“I’m here to ask you again...join me..live as I live and give up this boring life..” he licks long your neck as you struggle in his grasp.

You shake your head.

“No..I don’t want you..I don’t want to be a monster like you.”

He laughs as he smirks while watching your lips. His closeness to you makes you dizzy, but you try to remain firm.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m too old to be fooled, I know you have a recording of our little interview on your ipad..I know you don’t really need that recorder..so why did you invite me in?”

Your face falls. How did he know that you had a second audio recording saved to your iPad.

“Okay...fine, I wanted a reason to let you in..” you search his eyes.

He smiles and watches your lips.

“Oh? And now that I’m in, what else do you want?”

You pant and lick your lips. “I want..to feel what that woman felt..”

He kisses your neck. “Like this?” He whispers against your heated skin.

Your eyes close as your head falls back. “Yes..take me to my room..” you beg breathily.

He wraps his arms around you and by the time you open your eyes, you’re on your bed with your legs around his waist.

He grinds his covered member into you and listens to you moan.

He continues to kiss your neck and bite teasingly.

He licks over the warm area and moans. The cold touch of his fingertips makes you yearn for him more.

“This is what I missed, the taste of your beautiful skin..”

He looks down at you through wide eyes, he adores your lips and eyes, watching as you finally give in to him like he’s longed for.

He leans down and kisses your lips.

You reach above your head and place your hands under your pillow. You grab a specialized collar.

“Look at me, Doyoung.” You whisper in between kisses.

He releases your lips and looks up. You suddenly lock the collar around his throat.

He hisses, flying to the ceiling and grabbing at it in an attempt to take it off, but he has no luck.

The collar made of pure silver sends violent and painful shockwaves through his body whenever he touches it.

It tightens slowly to stop him from breathing.

His eyes grow. “What..what have you done to me?” He says as he dangles from the ceiling and looks down at you on the bed with a smile on your face.

“Oh Doyoung, you’re old but you still didn’t see this coming..” you chuckle, everything went as planned.

“Please...please stop this...” he reaches out for you as he gasps for air.

You stand up from the bed and look up at him.

“I’ll explain this quickly since you’ll be unconscious in about three minutes..”

He loses his grip from the ceiling, falling onto the bed limply.

“Do you remember a tall fellow that you bit one evening as he walked home from work?”

Doyoung groans in pain.

“I’ll take that as a no..” you continue. “Well, this victim’s name was Johnny, he owns Johnny’s Café and locked up kinda late that night when you found him. He became your prey and in the blink of an eye, was left to die in a dirty alleyway. No one was there to help him, no one…” your eyes start to water.

“He was my best friend..and you killed him. Or so I thought..you see, you made a grave mistake with this “murder.” You didn’t ensure his death by sucking until you heard the very last beat of his pulse. You got what you wanted and left him there with a faint pulse. He was able to pull his phone out and call me..I found him through Find My iPhone, and when I inspected his injuries..I realized that he had been attacked by a vampire.”

Doyoung’s eyes roll in the back of his head as he takes his final breaths.

“It was my first time seeing such a wound since I was young. Guess what, Doyoung? My family has hunted vampires since the beginning of time..my grandparents were sure that they had killed all of you in this city...but it seems we hadn’t, and Johnny’s attack is what brought this issue to my attention. Lucky for me, you fell right into my hands, making it easy for me to gain more information about your kind and the actual status of vampires in our city. I was ill-prepared for your hypnosis, however. That’s why I couldn’t lock you down the first time.”

You walk up to him and caress his pale face. You then yank his arm and drag him through your house and down to your basement.

You throw him down the stairs and walk down.

You both hear yelling and crying.

That’s when Doyoung sees him. That night starts to come back to him, the night when he attacked Johnny.

Johnny is chained to a wall in your basement. His hair is long and disheveled. He yells as he begs for food. His fangs stick out, he looks weak and terrified.

Doyoung gasps. “I didn’t mean for this to happen..”

“This is where he will have to stay, I can’t turn him in because he’s my best friend, but I also can’t kill him or set him free to murder innocent people like a maniac..I will fix him, I swear I will.”

You flip the lid off of a coffin and throw Doyoung into it after much effort. Luckily, he was quite weak from the collar already.

“Even though you turned my best friend into a monster, I am thankful to you for bringing all of your kind’s secrets to light. I will find each one, and I will kill them.” You smirk.

“Enjoy prison, you monster.”

Doyoung only smiles. “I’ll be back, sweetheart. Hunting you will make for a lifetime of joy.”

You shut the lid over the coffin and nail it shut.

You drag the coffin upstairs using a pulley system then call the police to retrieve him.

—————

[2 Years Later]

You enjoy your life as a journalist once again. You gained wealth and notoriety for your interview with Doyoung. You also hunt and kill vampires that killed animals, you finally had used the training from your family to do so.

“I never thought you’d have to do this..” your mom said one day when you visited her for tea.

“I thought..we killed them all and kept you and the rest of our world safe.”

“They’re like roaches..they never die.” Your dad yelled from the living room.

“It is what it is..” you took a sip from your cup.

“But tell me, once one has changed...is there any way to turn them back?”

You thought of Johnny and how you had to watch him suffer now for the past two years. You loved him dearly and spent hours on the dark web searching for clues as to what to do, but nothing worked.

You didn’t tell your parents, for fear that they would tell you to kill him immediately or they’d do it themselves.

You wouldn’t give up on you, you just couldn’t.

The two of you were friends for her 10 years, how could you even think of killing him?

Your mother laughed. “Honey..we’ve tried everything, there’s no way…once they change, the hunger roars through them, making them impossible to tame.”

You nodded.

“What is it you're not telling me?” She tilted her head when she saw the look of worry in your eyes.

“Nothing, it’s just...some of these people are good people..I just wish we didn’t have to kill them..”

“People? They’re not people! They’re savages and self-centered barbarians! Don’t fall for it, all they do is lure in victims for their own gain. They have no conscience.” Your father walked into the dining room with a freshly carved stake.

“Here.” He hands it to you. “You kill those bastards without any thought in your head, they’re meant to seduce you, make you think that they’re innocent humans with beating and good hearts, but they’re not! Kill them before they kill us.”

You nod and take it from him.

—————

[1 Year Later]

You receive news that Doyoung has broken free from prison. No one knows of his whereabouts so all eyes turn to you.

“We can set up police around your place to keep watch if you’d like..” your boss tells you.“There’s a chance that he’ll come after you first.”

“Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.”

You weren’t scared at all, and having police around would only draw more attention to you than you needed. What if they heard Johnny in your basement? What if they saw you bringing in live rabbits in the middle of the night?

And if something were wrong, they’d eventually go into your basement only to find a series of hunting weapons and digging gear, for you always buried the vampires you killed deep in the woods.

You headed home and walked in slowly.

The air felt crisp and cool, the night sky peered in through your windows. You looked around and that’s when you noticed that one of them were open, the wind blowing the curtain that should’ve been drawn over it.

You hold your stake close to you and quickly walk over to it.

You slam it down shut and turn the lock, but by the time you turn back around to head to your room, you see Doyoung.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

He stands just a few feet away from you with blood dripping down his mouth and neck in a steady pool.

You step back and walk around in a circle.

Doyoung smirks and walks in a circle towards you too.

“You knew I would be here, and yet, you came home on time..are you not afraid of me?”

He chuckles and holds his arms out.

You raise your stake in front of you.

“Do I look like I’m afraid of you?”

Doyoung tilts his head and pouts. “I’m not sure, your heart is racing, the sweat on your forehead is building, your grip on the stake is weak..”

“I didn’t give you permission to come in..”

He shakes his head. “No no, you didn’t..but someone in this house did.”

Your steps falter for a moment and you swallow hard.

When you listen closely, you hear something happening in your kitchen.

Then your eyes widen when you realize.

“Johnny..”

You gasp and run into the kitchen.

Doyoung laughs loudly.

You scream when you see Johnny sucking blood from a woman’s neck in the middle of your kitchen.

“No!!!”

“I’ve missed you, my love...but I see you kept him around, locked up in the basement for fun..I used my senses to contact him and tell him to give me permission. You see, he doesn’t enjoy being locked up in your basement.”

Doyoung stands behind you and crosses his arms while leaning against the doorway.

“Johnny!! Stop this please, this isn’t you!” You try to shake him off of the woman but all Johnny sees is red. He has never had human blood before and now his eyes have been opened. You start to cry, your stake drops out of your hand.

“He can’t hear you, he’s enjoying what will now be his favorite meal in the kitchen.”

Doyoung grabs you by the neck and slams you against the wall. You yell out in pain.

“And here we are again, but this time we have some unfinished business, you and I...what should I do with you?”

You shake your head as he lifts your body nearly four feet off the ground while choking you.

“Please Doyoung, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have turned you in..please, just let me go, I’ll run far from here and leave the two of you alone to kill as you please.” Seeing Johnny like this leaves you broken. You can’t believe he’s free to live as a monster after all of your efforts to protect him.

“But running will only make me want you more, I enjoy this game that we play..”

“Doyoung…” you tap his wrist as it becomes difficult to breathe.

“Being choked isn't so nice, is it?”

“What..what do you want from me?”

“I want you, but I like that you’re a challenge, you make my life exciting, and now that I have you here, I want to let you go again just so I can watch you run.” He grins.

“You can shoot some arrows or throw a few stakes, how about it, y/n?”

“Fuck you! I’m not some toy!”

You try to wiggle out of his grasp.

“Then take my offer..I’ll only ask one more time..will you give in to me?”

You start to shake your head, but Johnny rises up from the body on the floor. He runs his hands through his long black hair and licks his lips while panting.

“Y/n..I feel...amazing.” He smiles at you. Even after all these years of you feeding him small animals and keeping him locked up, he still looked at you with love.

You cry harder. “No..Johnny..please don’t give in, I can fix you, I’ll find a way to turn you back.”

He chuckles then steps closer to you. He already looks healthier with the heavy dose of human blood he just consumed. “And you’ve been searching relentlessly for this cure for how long now?”

Doyoung lets your body slide back down the wall as he loosens his grip.

“I’m so close, just trust me.”

“Y/n..Look at how happy he is, don’t you want to be happy too?”

“yes..join us..” Johnny traces his finger down the side of your face.

“No!” You suddenly push Doyoung off of you and dive to the floor for your stake.

You jump back up but Doyoung takes you into his arms.

“Is this what you want?! To die instead of being with your best friend forever?!”

You press the tip of the stake into his chest, you’re so close, but your mind doesn’t allow you to push harder.

“Do it! Kill me!” He doesn’t put you under hypnosis because he wants to see what your true desire is.

Doyoung watches your sad eyes as you struggle to stab him.

Him being so close to you makes you weak, you don’t know why, but you fall into him more.

You second guess everything and your will weakens more and more each second.

You lean forward and kiss Doyoung’s lips finally.

You relax into his arms as his tongue traces over your lips to enter.

You swallow back your disgust from the taste of blood on his lips and close your eyes. A rush runs through your body, it’s like you’re being commanded by waves at the beach, your body just enjoying the feeling of floating in his arms.

The stake falls out of your weak hands. Johnny comes up behind you, kissing your neck from behind while circling his arms around your waist.

If you could just distract them for a few more moments..you could catch them off guard, take them to your room and grab the stake under your pillow..just a few more minutes..

Then..a sharp pain makes you jolt. Your eyes fly open. Johnny’s fangs dig into your neck. He sucks hard while you groan.

“Johnny!” You cry out, but then you moan as a feeling of euphoria washes over your body. You feel amazing, your mind goes blank, a soft, tingly sensation makes you weak as blood rushed from your veins and to his mouth. You’re drunk from their love and you want more.

Doyoung continues to kiss your lips and smiles when he feels you finally giving in to him.

Your heartbeat drives him crazy, he just can’t stop thinking about how good you must taste, so he takes the two of you to your room and lays down beside you on your bed.

Your neck is bent backwards towards Johnny behind you still, your hard nipples covered by your dress are just begging for his mouth.

“Do you give in to me, dear?” His lustful voice echoes in your ear.

“Yes..” you whimper.

In one swift move, Doyoung tears your dress off and throws it to the floor. He licks your hard nubs passionately, darting his tongue out and playing around with them with the tip.

Johnny continues to suck slowly, his hand reaching to your front side. He placed two fingers in between your legs, swatting away your thighs so your legs open more.

You are enraptured by them, completely forgetting your plan. But it didn’t matter anyway, your fate was sealed the moment Johnny bit you. He would either suck you dry or leave you alive to turn into one of them.

A part of you feels regret, but another part has come to terms with your situation. Right now you were focused on the yearning in your chest that made you tremble and the building heat between your legs that needed to be tended to.

Without warning, Doyoung bites your breast and sucks hard after latching his lips around the nipple.

He groans as he listens to you yelp.

You run your hand through his hair. “Yes..that feels so good.” You felt like you were already climaxing with both men sucking your blood at the same time.

Johnny’s fingers push past the waistband of your underwear and presses against your folds.

Doyoung sucks harder, the taste of your blood is sweet and intoxicating, he never wants to stop.

You feel Johnny’s long fingers rub circles into your clit, your legs widen more as you ache for more. He lets go of your neck and nibbles your ear.

“Can I?” He asks seductively.

“Yes..” you bite your bottom lip, your body becoming more and more turned on from Doyoung’s mouth and Johnny’s touch.

You can feel Johnny’s hard member against your back as he pushes one finger into your throbbing opening, sliding it in effortlessly.

“You’re wet…” he pulls his finger out and places it into your mouth. You moan while licking his finger.

“So wet..” he then pushes two fingers in, your body flinches as he pumps in and out of your. Your head is dizzy, you felt that you’ve lost too much blood. You’re too weak and Doyoung feels it too.

He gives your breasts a few more kitten licks to clean up the blood on it, then looks into your eyes.

“How do you feel, my love?”

“I’m-I’m dizzy..” you moan shortly after as Johnny adds a third finger and presses upward while inside your pussy.

Doyoung smiles when he sees your low eyes. “It’s time for you to feed..”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

Doyoung uses his nail and digs a vertical line into his throat.

“Taste me..”

“N-no.” You shake your head.

“This is what you are now, y/n..just taste him and you’ll know..” Johnny whispers into your ear.

You stick your tongue out hesitantly and lick up the trail of blood on his neck. It tastes wonderful, amazing and different. You didn’t know what to describe it as but you felt that rush from earlier run through your body once more.

You lick again, this time, placing your mouth into the wound and actually sucking more blood out.

Doyoung groans while pushing his pants down and taking his member out. He strokes it up and down and pants as you suck hard. You can’t use your fangs yet, but the feeling is still magnificent for him as well.

You need more, a hunger builds in your body and you tilt over Doyoung more to apply pressure.

Johnny withdraws his fingers, allowing you to completely kneel over Doyoung’s lap now.

He lays flat on the bed and watches you mount him. You look beautiful naked, like a goddess. Your eyes are wide with hunger and desire and he’s happy to be at the center of it all. He aligns his cock with your opening, watching as you slide down onto it slowly while wincing.

You breathe heavily and lean forward so you can suck his neck again. You place your hands on either side of his head and move up and down slowly, your body already clenching around him as he fills you up completely.

Johnny wraps his hand around his aching cock and strokes it as you ride Doyoung.

Your body becomes cold even as you sweat from the constant movement.

Your mind is flooded with sounds of Johnny’s moans coupled with the new sound of blood rushing through Doyoung’s veins and into your mouth.

He guides you down onto him by placing both hands on your ass. You push down onto him harder and faster, moving your hips so that his cock curves into you and presses against that spot every time.

You whimper as your movements stutter.

Doyoung flips you over onto your back, he watches your mouth, covered in blood, fall open into a loud moan. “Come on, sweetheart. Tell me how badly you want to cum.” Doyoung says with an evil smirk across his face covered in your blood now.

He thrusts into you hard and places both hands on your knees. He pushes them further apart and watches as he slams himself into you.

“Johnny..she feels so good..she’s just like you imagined for all these years..”

“But how does she taste?” Johnny strokes himself faster as he aims for your breast.

“Her blood tastes sweeter than any berry, and her pussy? Well, you’ll just have to try that yourself.” He goes faster, so fast you can only feel a satisfying vibration that stimulates your clit.

You throw your head back. “Fuck..Doyoung..”

“Do you want me to stop?” He stops suddenly to tease you.

“No no no no, keep going..please!” You beg in a high pitched tone almost embarrassingly.

He resumes his speed, watching your hands grip the sheets and your eyes roll in the back of your head as you cum.

Doyoung grunts and releases inside you.

He milks himself out completely as you shake from your orgasm. You see stars and entire galaxies, a feeling washing over you like no other feeling.

You gasp and watch Doyoung pull out. He moves to the side while watching his cum leaks out of your entrance.

Johnny then flips your limp body over. He wraps and arm around your waist and pulls you against his hard cock. You’re sensitive so you cry out from suddenly being pushed into by his long member.

He grabs your hair and bends your neck backward before biting into it to suck more of your blood. Your overwhelming sensitivity soon fades away and your climax starts to build again, the feeling in the pit of your stomach becoming nearly unbearable once more.

Johnny’s nails dig into your waist, slamming your ass against his hips as he reaches your depths over and over. He goes crazy from the feeling of your silky walls tightening around his cock. He wants to bury his cum so deep inside your pussy, that it leaks for days. And your sweet blood, he could drink it forever, he could drink you dry.

But Doyoung won’t allow that. “That’s enough..she’ll pass out if we take any more.”

Johnny stops drinking but grunts as he goes harder and faster.

Your knees make an indent in the mattress, you hold onto Doyoung’s hands for support as your mouth falls open.

“Fuck…” all you can mutter are curse words as Johnny destroys you.

Doyoung kneels in front of you, his intimidating cock sticking out hard once again.

He strokes it.

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out. You had to taste him, again. You craved him.

With low eyes, you maintain eye contact as he fills your mouth and hits the back of your throat. You flatten your tongue, licking the underside of it. You press your tongue hard against every vein then kiss the tip once he pulls back out.

He pushes back in faster this time, listening to you gag and watching as tear up.

You moan to send vibrations through his body. Doyoung throws his head back and mutters “shit..”

You gag again but breathe through your nostrils.

Johnny presses into you one more time before shooting milky strings across your walls. He pants while cursing then lowers himself so that he can taste you from behind. He licks up all the slick that has escaped and sticks his tongue in as deep as possible.

The night went on for hours as you switched positions and brought each other to paradise too many times to count.

You collapsed onto the bed and fell asleep once the three of you were done.

———-

[The Next Morning]

For the first time, sunlight burnt your eyes and made you suffocate. You tried to jump up from the bed, but then you noticed that your legs and arms were tied to a bed that wasn’t yours. You looked around and saw that you were on it by yourself.

Where was Johnny? Where was Doyoung? Why did you feel a burning hunger in your chest?

You recognized the smell of an old building and looked above you. It looked like you were in some sort of castle. You were covered in a thin white sleeping gown that you didn’t recognize either.

“Doyoung!! Johnny!!”

A door in the corner of the room opens and in walks Doyoung with a smirk across his face and something in his hand.

“Good morning, sweetheart.”

“Doyoung..please, I don’t feel good.” You strain against the chains.

Your eyes widen when you realize what dangles from his grasp.

Johnny’s head..

“No!!!!” You scream loudly.

“Oh, like music to my ears..” Doyoung chuckles and dangles the head above your body.

He sees your body through the thin fabric, your breasts and perfect curves, the warmth between your legs that he missed so badly. He almost regretted his decision.

He bit his lip and watched you struggle.

“Doyoung!! Why?!” You sob.

“Because you’re mine, you can’t be his too!”

Doyoung walks back over to the door and chucks the head outside.

He walks back over to you. “Well, now that we know what happened to Johnny, we need to discuss what’ll happen to you.”

“What did you do to me?!” You say through gritted teeth.

“Actually..it was Johnny that turned you..not me, but I made sure to kill him this time.”

Your face fell. This was exactly what Doyoung wanted. He lured you in by using Johnny, then he got Johnny to change you. They both seduced you to crowd your mind and make you too filled with lust to care. And now, you turned into the very thing that you hated the most.

“Now you realize…” Doyoung nods and strokes the side of your face.

“I couldn’t just let you get away with exposing my secrets and putting me in jail..I mean, the sex was amazing, so amazing, but I still couldn’t let you get away with it.”

You shake your head. “Please..I’m yours, I’ll do anything. I always wanted to be yours but I was too stubborn.”

“And the stake under your pillow? Would you have used it against me?” He pouts.

“No! I was going to love you.”

“Love me? A monster?”

“Doyoung please!!”

“This is your prison now...and when you are free, look for me, I’ll be waiting for you, my love..” he walks out and leaves you alone still tied to the bed.

————

[3 Days Later]

You finally break your chains with your new strength. You run out of the room, but find that you are in an old castle. When you run through the destroyed halls and into the courtyard, you see nothing but ocean.

Doyoung left you on the notorious Gil-Eul Castle, a mansion on a secluded island that was hundreds of miles from the nearest coast. It was known as the meeting grounds for vampires long ago, but your family along with other hunters destroyed it, planting bombs in the form of air strikes to kill everyone inside.

You yelled into the sky and ran around rampantly, searching for anything to eat.

You felt like you were going insane without blood. You were literally burning from the inside out because of the lack of blood in your system.

————

[20 Years Later]

You survived the last 20 years off of fish and rats. You never stopped thinking about Doyoung and how you’d get your revenge. You’d kill him slowly, make him suffer like you had, and even though you didn’t look any older, you felt tired and weak from watching the years fly by in a broken castle.

Until one day..a ship approaches the building. You watch from above as several construction workers all onto the island.

You lurk in the shadows and wait until one of them has strayed away from the group.

The man turns around when he feels that he is being followed, but sees nothing.

He turns back around and continues walking.

You reach out from a hallway and grab him by the collar. You feed on him quickly then do the same with the other men. One by one, you kill each man to quench your plentiful years of undying thirst.

But you’re not dumb, you save one of the men so that he can bring you back to your country. The man tells you that they had planned to clear the island and build a resort.

You take your tattered dress off and shower in the bathroom on board. You break down in tears when you feel warm water and soap on your skin for the first time in twenty years. You were finally free.

You find a set of clothes set aside by the workers and put them on. It’s a pair of sweatpants and t-shirt that’s not the right size, but it’ll have to work for now.

Once home, you hypnotize the man that brought you back.

“Tell them your team was attacked, you were the only one that survived. It was a man with fangs and pale skin. His name is Doyoung.”

The man nods, then walks off the ship and heads for the police station.

You, on the other hand, go in the opposite direction.

You thought about visiting your parents and letting them know that you were okay, but what would they say now that you were a vampire? Would they try to kill you?

You weren’t sure, so you continued walking to his mansion.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus, you knew that all vampires were connected and that if you tried hard enough, you could sense where he was.

It didn’t take long before you heard his voice. It was coming from an apartment about 10 miles away.

Of course he stayed in a nearby city.

You knocked on his door and waited for him to answer.

With round glasses on, he opened the door and smiled widely. “I knew you’d find me..”

“Invite me in.” Your voice was stern.

Doyoung nodded. “Of course.”

“Are you here to kill me?” He walks behind you.

“Yes.”

“Then go ahead.”

You turn to him.

“Why did you do this to me?”

“Life is pretty boring for an old man like me..I wanted to do something different.” He sits on the couch, then pats his thigh. “One last time before I say goodbye. I’ve missed you..”

You scoff. “You never came back, so I couldn’t really tell.”

“You were in solitary confinement, what could I do?”

You walk over to him and sit on his lap.

He placed his hands onto your ass and brought your body down onto his pelvis.

“Did you miss me?”

“No..”

He bucks into your clothes opening, brushing his hard member against it. “Are you sure?”

You bite your bottom lip, then reach to your back and pull out your stake.

You had made it with materials from the burnt down castle. You even engraved your initials into it, knowing that you’d use it to kill him.

“Yes..”

He smirks and licks his lips. “Are you ready?”

“Why aren't you scared?” Your brows furrow.

He chuckles. “I’ve been anticipating this moment for quite some time actually.”

You shake your head. “That’s not fair, this is too easy.”

He flips you over onto your back and suddenly you’re in his room and lying on his bed with him in between your legs. “And would you rather I make it difficult for you? Are you sure you want to wait another 20 years?”

You whimper as he commands your needy body effortlessly.

He grinds down into you. “If you won’t be mine willingly, then I would rather die..so are you ready, my love?”

You pause for a moment.

“Absolutely.” You press the stake into his chest, watching as his final breath leaves his beautiful lips.

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mah-gah-lee · 3 years

Text

What a weird family reunion Reggie x Reader (xLuke)

gif originally posted by @jatpsource

Word Count: 3515 words

Summary: You’re Reggie’s little sister. You were 3 when he died. You’re now a ghost for a decade. One night, you recognize your brother and jumped into him to an unexpected family reunion. How is it going to happen? Will Reggie believe you? In a mysterious way, that’s Luke who help you to convinced Reggie.

Warnings: cuss (language), mention of death, mention of divorce, mention of drugs

A/N: This is my first fic about jatp characters. Hope you’ll enjoy! keep in mind that french is my first language, so i’m so sorry if there’s some mistakes in my fic

disclaimer: It takes place during episodes 6 and 7. I do not take into account the possibility of a Juke. The chemistry while they sing is there but no romantic feelings.

Tagged: @asdfghjkl-fanfics @standingtalllove

_______

Losing a child is the worst thing a parent could live, losing two is unimaginable. It’s seems being 17 years old was a new malediction in Peters family.

You were 3 when your older brother, Reginald, died in a weird hot dog accident. At that point, your parents were literally a fight away from a divorce but never did it because of you. You were too young to be in a divided family, according to them. But Reggie's death separated them for good. Yet they really tried to support each other, to overcome that and give you all the attention you needed. But your mother overprotected you and made you live in the shadow of your late brother. Your dad couldn't stand it. And when they finally divorce, moving out from reggie’s childhood house, you went to live with your dad.

Even though you were too young to form a strong bond with your brother, in a way you missed him. Your mother’s house was full of pictures of him, some of his clothes were still in a room, dedicated to him. When you visited your mother, you didn’t understand why you always found yourself in this room. You were drawn like a magnet to the comforting room. Reggie’s presence in this new house brought you such a sense of security that your mother had repeatedly found you asleep on a pile of your brother’s T-shirts.

And then you died in 2009. Kanye West had interrupted Taylor Swift's speech at the VMAs, Miley Cyrus hadn't gone crazy yet and One Direction didn't exist yet. What an era! You didn't know why the great light didn't come looking for you but you were there, as a ghost in 2009. And the time has passed ... You've had your best concerts, the best parties. A forever teenager who couldn't eat, drink or sleep.

And then 2020 came.

…

You were tired of always doing the same thing for over a decade, but you couldn't help but go to every open scene that came up in your beautiful city. It was as if an inexplicable force was pushing you to go there.

This evening was no exception to the rule and you were in a very hip little bar in the city center. You wore one of those sleeveless, gray crop tops with high waisted pants, your leather jacket draped over your shoulders. Your eyes were directly drawn to a group of girls in colorful costumes. You couldn't help but roll your eyes. It's been 10 years since you died and it seemed to you that these girls looked like the same plagues that ruined the lives of so many teenagers in your time. You put on an expression of disgust when they all took the stage, but when the music started you couldn't help but admit it was pretty catchy. However, you didn't expect a ghost to appear in the middle of the stage, improvising a choreography. Was that part of the show?

But looking at the audience's non-reaction, you knew it wasn't. The ghost disappeared for the first time, and your gaze sought directly the distinctive light source of another apparition in the room. Your gaze lingered on a small group of three boys - the blond boy included - and two girls. You have wrinkled your eyes to better distinguish the teenagers, and your face expressed confusion.

“Reggie? “

You wanted to go see him so badly. You were pretty sure it was your brother but it all came too fast. The moment you decided to walk towards them, the organizer announced a new band.

“Okay, looks like we're close the night out with one more group…Julie and the fat ones.”

What was that for a name? Your attention had been diverted and when you looked back at the group, the boys had disappeared as one of the young girls took the stage. Your heart was beating so fast. You couldn't go wrong; you had seen so many pictures at your mother's house that it was impossible that this boy was not your brother. But you missed your chance…

Julie started to sing and your eyes were captivated, as much as your ears were. This kid was so talented! When she sang a rather high note, the tension in the room charged into electricity. The next second, the young singer was joined by the group of boys you had seen in her company. Appearing distinctly as the ghosts did. On drums there was the blond boy you had seen dancing a few moments earlier, on the electric guitar, a boy with tousled brown hair who seemed slightly familiar to you ... and on bass, with a flannel shirt, there was your brother ... Reggie was there, identical to the photos you had admired so much.

The bar was on fire as Julie and The Phantoms performed. What a sick name for a group made up of two-thirds of ghosts! The song was so catchy that your heart beat to the sound of the music. But your eyes did not leave your brother, you were unable to move, frozen in place. What should you do ? Will you introduce yourself after the performance? And, what would you say? "Hey hi Reggie, I'm your sister, I died ten years ago and you twenty-five years ago. Unbelievable, right?! Nice to see you again" And once again, before you knew it, the song was over and the boys were gone again, leaving Julie alone on stage in the bewilderment of the many people in the facility.

“for God's sake, where are they?”

You didn't want to miss it anymore. Even though the whole situation was strange, you wanted to see your brother again.

Your eyes flew over the room before seeing the scene play out before your eyes. Julie seemed petrified in front of a man. The boys watched in amazement and as Julie left with what appeared to be her father, you rushed over to the group of three musicians before they disappeared again.

“omg please don't poof out again.” You said almost out of breath

The boys looked at you like you were crazy before the guitarist jumped off the bar counter, bursting with energy.

"Wait, you can see us?"

“as much as when mister "all eyes on me" made his performance”, you were pointing your head at the blond boy.

The group looked at each other in puzzlement and Reggie finally spoke, his blue eyes full of mischief.

“So…hi there cutie, how can we help you?”

Your face expressed disgust and you stuck your tongue out mimicking vomiting.

Luke gave Alex an amused smile, seeing Reggie flirting and your spontaneous reaction. The bassist couldn't help but charm the pretty ladies.

“Wow Reggie, that's gross ... you're my brother.”

Reggie burst out laughing at your response, not noticing that you called him by his first name when he hadn't even introduced himself to you yet.

“Yeah right, for sure. You just could tell me you weren’t interested. But I’m charming...”

It was the first time he had been given such an excuse but you looked so serious that he stopped dead in his tracks as Luke and Alex watched you. They always knew Reggie had a sister. But the scene unfolding before their eyes seemed impossible. (Y / N) was so young when they died and now must have been around 28, something like that. But the girl in front of them was a teenager, their age. How was this possible?

You didn't want to drop the information like that. It was worse than anything you could have imagined. But it had escaped you. Now he didn't take you seriously. Your eyes were wet with tears. It was scary to find you in front of your brother for the first time as a ghost teenager. Luke looked panicked when he noticed your eyes, squeezing Reggie's shoulder as you seemed to beg.

“Can I ... can I meet you in a quieter time please, Reginald?”

Your brother's eyes widened as Luke's hug on his shoulder tightened a bit. The eagerness and desperation in your voice had made both boys react, Alex was just looking at all of you like all of this wasn't real. The use of Reggie's name made him tense, surprised. Few called him Reginald. In fact, only his family, and the boys when they wanted to annoy him, called him that way. And although his nickname is obvious enough to deduce his

full first name, he deeply felt that you weren't just anyone.

He seemed a little panicked and looked around for his friends to support him. As if the solution would fall by itself just by the presence of Luke and Alex.

“Okay, but I want Luke and Alex’s there! What about tomorrow? I’ll give you the address!”

Wow, that was quick.

“hm, yeah, yeah sure, as you want”

You nodded and Reggie silently slipped a note to the drummer. Alex took a pen, write something on a paper towel and gave it to you. You weren’t surprise, you also can make some tricks. And you just had the time to thanks them before they poofted again.

…

The next day, you landed in front of Julie's garage. Lucky she's at school because you shouldn't be explaining your presence, so she managed to see you the way she saw boys.

Before entering, you peeked out the window and frowned. There seemed to be only Luke so far. He was leaning over the piano, his head in a notebook. Your body went through part of the garage door and you cleared your throat.

“hmm, hi ... i came to see Reggie ..”

Luke instantly raised his head and you caught his attention.

“oh uh, hi! He should be here soon, come in.….”

Silence felt as Luke motioned for you to sit on the couch. It was a rather pleasant studio; the plants gave a warm atmosphere to the room and the music set sent you good vibes.

"Does your girlfriend mind that I'm here? I mean, that seems to be your HQ"

"girlfriend?"

"The girl you sing with" I simply said.

"Julie? Um, yeah, she's not my girlfriend. She-sh-she’s great and we have this powerful connection but…not, not in a romantic way. Music tied us. Music and friendship "

Luke chuckled lightly as he scratched his head. You were surprised they weren't dating. Yesterday the tension was intense. He seemed authentic when he had continued his momentum. You let out a smile amused by so much overflow.

“It's okay, I don't need to know your full relationship statute or your social security number.”

The guitarist gave you a frank smile, his eyes twinkling with amusement. For a ghost, his gaze was really alive.

“ I’m Luke, by the way”

"Y / N… Re .."

"Reggie's little sister… I-I remember you a little."

"You look familiar to me. Maybe I saw you in a few pictures with Reggie."

Silence fell and you started to feel anxious. Maybe it was a bad idea? You had grown up since Reggie died ... were you still his little sister after all? Luke seemed to notice your dismay and put a comforting hand on your knee.

“hey, is something bothering you?”

“What if he doesn't believe me ... if he definitely thinks I'm not his sister.”

“Let's be honest, it's a little hard to believe. The last time I saw you, you were three years old.”

It was as if the memories flooded into your mind and let you carried away in your words.

“Yeah, you gave me this teddy bear with a guitar and told Reggie you wanted to be my favorite.”

Luke chuckled slightly before staring at you, speechless. He seemed dazed. This anecdote dates back to twenty-five years anyway. He himself had a hard time remembering it until you said it a few seconds earlier.

“what was the smell of the stuffed animal?” he asked, confused about that funny fact

“sorry, what?”

“the plush, what did it smell like?”

“hot waffle, why?”

“okay ... maybe you are his sister ... tell me more about what you remember”

You looked at him with a puzzled expression. Everything had been so natural before he stopped in all the movements. And now, it was hard to think about for the memories you had of Reggie on demand. The teddy bear given by Luke story had slipped out of your mind without you realizing it. As your brain seemed to boil, the fog of your thoughts cleared.

“can I use your guitar?”

“hell no ... why?” Luke exclaimed with far too much anticipation

“I have this lullaby stuck inside of my head ... I think Reggie sang it to me when I was a child”

Your pleading and desperate gaze fell on Luke who categorically refused to let you take his guitar. He ends up grabbing his six acoustic strings, terminated. There was something about you that made him weak.

“Maybe you can teach me but ... my guitar is my guitar, nobody touches it.”

You nodded and the lead singer moved closer to you. You were stunned by its smell, like a distant memory. Luke had definitely been a part of your life before he died, you were sure of that. You leaned over her shoulder, humming the lullaby that was left in your head. It didn't take long for him to find the right chords. Luke continued several times before you stopped singing, looking at him intently.

“that's exactly it ... this lullaby”

You both looked at each other, an indecipherable expression in your eyes. You both jumped at the sound of the garage door. Reggie appeared with Alex.

"Ready to compose hellish songs! oh did I interrupt something?”

"No, no I was there to see you. I guess you have a lot of questions."

"hell yeah, can we start from the beginning?"

You smiled to approve his request. The boys settled down on the sofa, while you sat down on one of the single armchairs. And the flow of questions began

“When are you born?”

“(your birthday date) 1992” you simply answered.

“What’s your name?”

(y/n) (y/m/n) Peters

It’s seemed to convinced a little Reggie but doubt was all over his face. It was information you could easily get on the internet nowadays.

“What’s my favorite food?”

“Pizza, mom said your favorite was the extra cheese with pepperoni”

“And what was my favorite toy?”

“I freaking don’t know, how can I suppose to known that?”

“ah ah!” he pointed the finger at you, as if that answer was proof that you were lying. It broke your heart but you didn't show it.

Instead, you rolled your eyes and Reggie kept going to ask you some question. Of course, you would have liked to have answered his questions correctly. Your mother told you some anecdotes about him but not to the point of knowing all the details.

“What’s the most terrible thing I said to my mom?”

“Omg I don’t fucking know! I was 3 when you’re died, asshole!”

Luke smiled when you exploded. Reggie was Reggie, as weird as possible. Now you were angry and desperate. Your brother didn’t believe you and he kept dragging you into this miserable feeling that you were never going to get your brother back. You had spent your short life living with a faint memory of him. Your blankie was one of his t-shirts, his voice reasoned in your head when you couldn’t sleep.

But then, in front of him, you were a stranger to him. Your heart was bruised from not being able to hug him and to finally meet this brother who had left far too soon.

“Okay, okay… So, how can you proof me you’re really my sister?! “

In the room’s corner, Luke looked at you, you looked desperate, about to cry again. He grabbed his guitar and cleared his throat. Reggie turned to him as the guitarist still had his eyes on you, a heartwarming smile hanging across his face. You had managed to convince him in a few minutes. He felt connected to you and the things you told him were disturbing. You could only be Reggie's sister; it was impossible otherwise.

"Hey…What about the song you told me earlier." he said with a soft and comfort voice

Your eyes caught his gaze, grateful for the initiative. You nodded and Luke started playing the few notes you had taught him a few minutes earlier. It was so different from all the songs the brunette could play before. It was a lullaby, such easy children's music with just a few notes. Of course, the band wasn’t supposed to play when Julie wasn’t in the room but, Luke had thought it was the best thing to do to encourage you to keep going. He didn’t know why, but he wanted Reggie to believe you. Luke believed you, hard as nails. There only had to look at your eyes to understand this reality, and Luke had noticed that. You had the same blue eyes as your brother. How could Reggie still doubt that? You started to sing

You're so sleepy

Very much sleepy

You want to go to the fairyland

You close your eyes

And jump into your dream.

When you'll wake up

I’ll still be on your team.

The instant Reggie heard the first notes, he knew. But hearing you sing the lullaby he had invented for you when you didn't want to sleep as a child, was a magical moment. You were his baby sister. He gave you that sad little puppy face, so overwhelmed. Reggie opened his arms and you jumped into a hug, so glad he finally accepted the fact that you were his sister.

You felt oddly safe again, like taking a nap in Reggie's pile of old t-shirts. You were so happy to find your brother and to be able to live your non-life by his side. Nothing would be as boring as it used to be. Reggie pushed you away with a concerned look

"but wait ... how did you die?"

"Yeah ... I don't really know ... I was at a really, really good rock concert and I bought this drink ... and I think I got drugged up there and ... I guess I'm dead? tadaa " you tried to tell him in a light tone.

He had just learned that he had a little sister. He didn't have to know that she was sneaking out at rock concerts and drinking alcohol before she was old enough. Right? Alex looked at Luke and Reggie with his half amused half confused smile. As for Luke, he fidgeted from foot to foot at the discovery. Y / N was as much rock and roll as they all were. Rebellion had to be his middle name

You loosened Reggie's embrace and lowered your head, pursing your lips so as not to show your embarrassment. He asked if you wanted snacks and you nodded. There was a slight silence. You didn't notice the urgent look Luke gave Alex but the next moment the blond jumped up to accompany the bassist, leaving you alone in the garage with the lead singer.

The silences were a little longer until Luke cautiously approached you. You could feel the awkwardness from miles away.

“ Sooo, you made this.”

“ yeah ...” you answered in a shy voice

It was the moment you had to thank him but your words seemed frozen. You mustered all the courage to plant your gaze in Luke's eyes.

“Thank you ... for helping me earlier.”

“oh it was nothing”.

“I ... yes, yes it was. You can't imagine how important seeing Reggie again is to me. Thanks for ... for helping me open his eyes.”

A slight smile caught his lips and he reached for your cheek before stopping his gesture. Instead of stroking your skin, he simply put a section of your hair back behind your ear.

“I would do anything for my best friends.”

And Reggie was definitely one of Luke’s best friend. You hardly swallowed, your stomach contorting under the effect that the guitarist made you. Time had seemed to fly at an incredible speed as the moment was interrupted by Reggie and Alex coming back to you.

“OMG LUKE DON’T FLIRT WITH MY SISTER, SHE’S 3!”

You cleared your throat and stepped aside to pull yourself away from Luke as far as possible. Your gaze fell on your brother and you raised an eyebrow at the last remark. 3 years old, really? You were 3 years old twenty-five years ago ... now you were eternally a teenager

“I’m seventeen.”

“Listen, i'm your big brother, you’re three, end of discussion.”

Your face wanted to laugh and you pursed your lips to keep from succumbing. But your eyes… Your eyes met Luke's in a complicity that slowly settled. Could you fall in love with your big brother's best friend? Definitely yes...

#jatp #jatp cast #jatp cast x reader #jatp imagines #jatp fic #julie molina #luke patterson #alex mercer #reggie peters #reggie x reader #reggie peters x reader #luke patterson x reader #charlie gillespie #jeremy shada #writing #owen patrick joyner #madison reyes

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