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jaebeomsbitch · 1 year

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Best Friend's Kisses (E.M.)

Summary: After seventeen long years of friendship Eddie decides to fulfill a ten year old promise. Something whispered in the middle of the night. He gives you the best gift of all.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem! reader, really only mentioned like two or three times

Mid-twenties Eddie and reader. Mechanic! Eddie

Warning: Slight smut at the end, talks of insecurity, making out, flirting, swearing, and melancholy reader. MINORS DNI!

AN: This is only my third fic on here. I'm still trying to understand the formatting.

Eddie Munson had been your friend since you met him on the playground in third grade. He had defended you against some asshole kid who tried to take away your toy. Pushed him to the ground and yelled at him, you’d been inseparable since then. You saw each other through the awkward phases of becoming teenagers, watched him struggle through high school, and then eventually graduate.

Now you were both in your mid twenties, still having movie nights at the Munson’s every Friday after your shift at the record shop. You had a chance to leave, to go to college in New York but you turned it down. Not that you told Eddie, you didn’t want him to feel guilty. Truthfully you did stay for him, afraid that he might break without you but, did he really need you?

Eddie was an incredible sweetheart, making friends left and right with whoever would listen to him. It seemed like anyone that had a chance to really talk to him could see beyond the rumor around him. He was surrounded by people who loved him. Sometimes you regret staying, maybe you could’ve become something. Maybe you could’ve gotten a good degree, move your parents out of this shitty town but you were afraid.

The truth being you use Eddie as a crutch, you always had. Hiding behind him, gripping onto the back of his shirt as he yelled at another person for you, cleaning him up after he fought with a guy for groping you, Eddie was your protector in a sense. So you stay, stay in the shitty down you despise, wallow in self pity for being a fucking coward like you always are, and spending your days drinking or getting high with Eddie and his friends.

Today was a special day, Eddie had gotten a job at a mechanic shop. He always said that when he got his first paycheck he’d buy you something really special. He’d jump around from job to job until he found Earl. Earl was the only person who truly gave Eddie a chance.

“Honey, I’m home,” He jokes, walking into the trailer. Already expecting you to be lying on his bed when he comes home like you always are. He walks in shoulders hunched, face covered in grease stains, and hair knotted. “Gonna take a shower, then’ll be back. Got something exciting for you sweetheart,” He smiles, grabbing the pile of clothes you left on the foot of his bed ready for him. “Toodaloo,” he wags his fingers behind him as he exits the room.

Oh god what did he get you? Eddie had a reputation for going overboard, always saying he had to spoil his ‘princess’ because you were his longest friend. Always rambling about how you deserved the world for sticking by his side. Steve and Robin like to tease him, poking fun at your friendship. Always whispering, “you’ve never thought ‘bout it?” with their questioning gazes. It didn’t matter what either of you said, they never believed you. They could see the way the tips of your ears turned red or the way Eddie silently threatened Steve.

“I feel so much better,” He sighs, throwing himself next to you. He cuddles into the pillow, throwing the sheets over himself. “You forgetting something?” You laugh.

“Oh shit, sorry. M’tired,” He mumbles, eyes open wide. “Just go to sleep, Eds. You can give me whatever it is tomorrow,” You whisper. Trying to lull him back to sleep as you massage his scalp. “No, been waiting forever,” He murmurs, eyes blinking slowly. He must’ve been really tired for him to forget dinner. Eddie was never one to skip meals, always saying they were his favorite part of his day. You watch him sleep, he looks so peaceful with his eyes closed, his lips slightly parted. It isn’t until you hear the phone ring that you move your hand from his curls.

“Hello?” You whisper trying not to wake him up. “Oh hey! I was expecting Eddie,” Steve says on the line. “He got home and fell asleep immediately, I was just about to make dinner. What’s up?” You ask.

“You sound so domestic, like a housewife,” Steve chuckles.

“Yeah, yeah. Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes leaning against the wall.

“H-has he given you the present yet?” He asks out of nowhere.

“No, he just said he had something for me then fell asleep two seconds later. I don’t know what he did today but he skipped lunch. You know how unusual that is for him,” you say slightly concerned.

“It’s just… he loves you a lot you know?” Steve says, his voice sounding a little weird.

“Yeah and I love him too,” You reply quickly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Just… keep that in mind, I’ll see you tomorrow,” He says.

“What wh-” He hangs up. What the fuck was that about? Of course you’d see Steve and the gang tomorrow, it was your weekly get together with the adults of the group but this felt weird. It almost felt like something monumental was supposed to happen today.

You try to shake away the feeling, looking through the fridge to see what they have. Cheese and tortillas, the ones you brought from home because you ‘accidentally’ bought two packs. You make quesadillas like you’ve made all your childhood, they were quick to make and easy for Eddie to eat while he’s half asleep. He had this miraculous way of waking up, eating, and forgetting that he even ate when he woke up.

“Eds… Teddie,” you whisper, gently shaking his shoulder until he groans. He gained the nickname after a long night of calling each other annoying nicknames, you saw your childhood teddy bear and instantly thought of Eddie. Just like it, he brought you comfort and he was also the person to give it to you. Claimed he won it in a claw machine for twenty five cents but you knew he had saved his money for weeks to buy it for you. You'd seen it at the store when your mom dragged you shopping for your sister's new clothes.

“I know, I know, baby. Just eat and you can go back to sleep okay,” You whisper, sitting on the ledge of the bed next to him. He slowly blinks, turning toward you as he scratches his neck languidly.

“Come on, eat,” You show him the plate but he still blinks at you not understanding. So you feed him like a sick child, watching as he takes little bites and tilting his head forward when he needs a drink. “Go back to sleep,” You whisper, kissing him on the forehead as his eyes close again.

Steve was right, it all felt entirely domestic. You’d never treat him, Robin, or any of your other friends like this but Eddie, he was special. Your heart clenches at the idea, always longing for Eddie in a way you know is not possible. Always afraid you’d ruin your seventeen years of friendship, afraid you’d lose the one person who made you feel comfortable. You’d always cuddled with him, he was overly touchy with you to the point that everyone thought you were together. You were always off limits to the other guys in Hawkins, only ever catching the eye of passersby. You fall asleep, thinking about all the should haves and could haves.

The sun filters through the small crack in the curtains hitting you straight in the face. You look around the room, remembering you fell asleep next to Eddie. His arm is around your waist, head buried in your neck, hair tickling your nose. You try to stretch as much as you can while being basically pinned down by Eddie.

“Ten more minutes,” he mumbles, pulling you closer.

“You slept for sixteen hours already,” you snort.

“Not enough,” He nuzzles into your neck.

“You gotta stop that or I’m gonna piss myself,” You say, trying to pry his arm off of you.

“Do it, you wouldn’t dare,” He challenges.

“No I wouldn’t but seriously, I gotta go!” you say more urgently.

“Fine, but you jump right back in bed the minute you finish,” He bargains.

“It’s almost one o’clock, I am not staying in bed,” You protest, still pulling at his arm.

“Either way you still owe me a present,” You say.

“Oh shit, I forgot,” He says, finally letting you go. You run to the bathroom to take care of yourself, peeing and brushing your teeth. You’d had a toothbrush right next to Eddie’s since your first sleepover, he always took charge of changing it out every couple of months.

“So what’s the plan for today?” You ask, rummaging through his closet.

“Eat, present, meet Robin and Nance and 'em,” He says, standing up from the bed to join you. He picks up a pair of black jeans, his favorite because “they fit him the best and they make his ass look good,” according to Eddie. It was warm out, you could already tell by the heat in the trailer so he picks out a cutoff tee that shows off the sides of his ribs if he moves a certain way. He didn’t know this was your favorite shirt of his. He always looked so fucking hot with it on, his tattoos peaking through the side, his midriff exposed at the corner of your eye. Well if he was going to play that game you needed a better outfit, no band tee for you.

You search through your overnight bag for the black lacy cami top that usually leaves him speechless and a pair of shorts. He looks at the outfit in your hand and gulps.

“Great, I’m starving,” You wink at him as you walk by. What the fuck were you doing? What has gotten into you? He might’ve just been thirsty or something. There was no guarantee he even noticed what you grabbed or even cared. When you come out dressed you hear Wayne’s voice to the right of you talking to Eddie about his job.

“Good…afternoon!” You greet them.

“Finally decided to wake up I see,” Wayne says, eyebrow raised. He wasn’t judging you, he liked to tease but he knew how hard Eddie and you worked. He always treated you like a dad, more than your own father. He was protective and caring in his own way.

“Blame Teddie,” You nudge Eds in the ribs.

“You know I need my beauty rest,” He says, flicking his hair.

“Maybe you need to sleep longer,” Wayne’s eyes light up, teasing Eddie.

“Some sleep would do you good,” Eddie says, tone more serious. Wayne had been picking up more shifts lately, you had hardly seen him the last three weeks.

“I’m already as pretty as I’ll get,” Wayne grumbles, not liking Eddie’s concern.

“Weren’t y’all ‘bout to get food, c’mon get,” Wayne pushes you both out, slamming the door behind you two.

“He really is overworking himself,” You sigh as you climb into Eddie’s van.

“I know, that’s why I’ve been taking longer hours at the shop. Just want to take some burden off the old man,” He says, eyes focused on the road. You both sit in silence on the drive to Benny’s, thinking about how stuck you felt.

You wanted to help Wayne in any way you could but you still weren’t making enough money. You rented out a room from your parents because according to them the second you turn eighteen they weren’t supposed to help you anymore. Even if you wanted to leave you couldn’t afford the lease. You remember all those nights with Eddie, dreaming of the day you finally became adults so you could become independent.

“We’re here,” Eddie says, snapping his finger in front of your face.

“Fuck, you scared the shit out of me,” You jump, hand clutching your chest.

“What’s got you so spaced out?” Eddie asks, during the short walk into the diner and into your “designated” booth.

“Nothin’” you say, playing with the salt and pepper shakers.

“C’mon tell me what’s on your mind,” He pushes.

“I just wish I could do something to help Wayne out,” You sigh, not looking up at him.

“Me too,” He says, taking the pepper from your hand and playing with it. You didn’t expect the heavy atmosphere but thankfully it's broken when Doris comes over with your drinks. You always ordered the same thing, every week.

“Here’s your cola’s, just put in your order,” She smiles.

“Thank you!” you beam at the sugary beverage.

“There’s something magical in these sodas I swear,” You moan, as you gulp it down.

Eddie’s looking at you through his eyelashes, tongue swiping at his bottom lip.

“Yeah tastes pretty good,” He observes, voice deeper than normal and pupil’s slightly blown out. You make conversation over your pancake breakfasts, talking about shitty customers and bonding over telling them to fuck off. The tension from earlier is gone as Eddie promises he can scarf down his food in less than ten minutes.

“I never said you couldn’t do it, I just said it wasn’t worth the upset stomach I know you’re gonna have,” You say, walking toward his van.

“Well it was worth it,” He gives you a toothy smile.

“Now for the big event,” He says, as you both get in the van.

“Big event?” You question.

“Got you a surprise, something I promised you a long time ago,” He says, staring into your eyes. There’s something there you don’t recognize, his gaze looking different. You wrack your brain trying to decipher his riddle. What did he promise you? He had made so many promises over the years, pinkies intertwining each other as Gareth made fun of your childish ways.

“Okay…” You look at him suspiciously.

“But, I’m gonna need to blindfold you,” He says, eyes full of mischief.

“Ooh kinky,” you wag your eyebrows at him. His eyes slightly widen before he snaps out of it and grabs a scrap of fabric from his door.

“Turn around for me sweetheart,” He mumbles. You can’t help but slightly shake as he places the opaque fabric over your eyes, his hand brushing the back of your head as he knots it in place. The entire act felt all too intimate, your heavy breaths in the silent van weren’t helping either.

“Can you see anything?” He asks, presumably waving a hand in your face as you turn to sit straight.

“Nothing, scouts honor,” You say, raising two fingers.

“You weren’t even in the scouts,” He laughs, turning the key in the ignition. You don’t know what direction you’re heading in.

“Oh my god are you gonna murder me? Been playing the long con? Get me comfortable so I go without protest,” You tease.

“Oh yeah, gonna chop you up in the forest in the name of satan,” He says dramatically.

“Sounds ‘bout right,” You laugh, as he pulls to a stop.

“We’re here, just give me a second” He says, opening the door and rounding the car to open yours less than a second later.

“Wrap your arms around my neck princess,” He says, carrying you out of the van and placing you on your feet.

“Woah,” You grab onto his arm as the dizziness sets in.

“You alright?” He asks, concerned laced in his voice.

“Yeah just give me a second. M’dizzy” You say, gripping harder onto his bicep.

“Take your time,” He says.

“I’m ready,” You say after a minute. “Okay, just follow my voice. It’s a trust exercise,” you can hear the smile in his voice as he leads you. “There’s like three steps, just take ‘em slow. Here’s the first one,” He says, stopping so you can get your footing. He leads you up the last two, “Before you take your blindfold off… just, I don’t know. J-just I don’t even know how to explain it,” He says, voice full of nervousness.

“Eds, I feel like I've been blindfolded for an hour. If this is another prank I will fucking kill you,” You threaten.

“Not a joke, promise,” He says, “Ready?”

“Been ready,” You answer. He takes your hand putting something cold in it and leaning over your shoulder to see the knot. You blink at the sudden light, trying to grab your bearings.

“W-what?” You asked confused. He’d placed a key in your hand, you were standing in front of a house.

“We always promised we’d move out together, it was time for me to bank it in,” He smiles.

“Wait, what?” You still couldn’t believe it. It had to be some sort of joke, he probably found this key on the floor.

“C’mon open the door,” He nods his head in the direction of the lock.

“You’re serious?” You ask, eyes wide in shock.

“As a heart attack. C’mon! I’ve been waiting for months to show you it,” He says, pressing you to open the lock. Your hands shake as you approach the door, the key surprisingly sliding in and turning. Oh no he wasn’t lying, this wasn’t an epic prank. You open the door to an empty living room, his hand guiding you inside.

“I haven’t picked out the furniture yet, thought you’d want to do it together,” He stammers, as you silently scan over the room. It was nice, the entrance opened to the living room, to the left was an open floor plan kitchen, and to the right a bedroom.

“T-together?” You stutter. You were speechless.

“I know how much you hate living at your folks home and you know we made that promise that we’d move out together when we had the money,” He says scratching the back of his neck. He was nervous at your lack of response, did you hate the house? Maybe he should have consulted you first.

“So you and me, living together?” You question, taking in every single detail.

“Yes, just you and me. Maybe Wayne but I doubt he’ll leave the trailer. He’ll finally have a bedroom again though,” He trails off.

“Holy shit, this is for real?” You ask again, walking around the living room toward the kitchen.

“Oh my god how many times do I have to say yes. Did I tie that blindfold too tight? Not enough oxygen in your brain” he chuckles at his joke. You jump into his arms, legs straddling his waist. You hold onto him like a monkey as he grabs your thighs.

“This is the best present ever! Holy shit, Eddie,” You say hugging him close.

“Least I can do for your long years of serving me loyally,” He laughs, walking deeper into the house. You slide down his body as he pulls you through, giving you the grand tour. The house had three bedrooms total, apparently he got an insane deal on the property. Someone from the shop got a huge opportunity in Indianapolis and was trying to get rid of it. They passed down the title to Eddie instead of going through a broker.

“Now this, I think may be your favorite part,” He says, pulling you toward the back door. Your hands entwined, which was not unusual for you both. He opens the door to a beautiful garden, the previous owners must’ve loved this place. It was full of flowers and fruit trees.

“There’s a perfect shady spot to read your books, we could put a table out there and have breakfast together,” He says.

“Holy shit Eddie, it’s perfect,” You say, pulling him in for another hug. He’s bent at an awkward angle to meet your height. Without thinking you peck him on the lips before letting him go and walking down the steps to the garden. You look back at him still frozen in that weird position.

“What’s wrong?” You ask oblivious to what you had just done.

“D-did you just kiss me?” He asks, running down the stairs to meet you halfway down the yard.

“T-that was-” You stutter, realizing what happened. He towers over you, hand tilting your face upward as he kisses you again.

“This okay?” he mumbles into your lips. You move your hands to his shoulders, nails digging into the skin. “Mhm,” You agree, trying to pull him closer. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip with a groan, his kisses becoming more desperate. You open your mouth inviting him in, his tongue mapping out your mouth as you moan. “F-fuck,” You breathe out as he pulls away, kissing down your neck. You’d never been touched like this by Eddie, his hands running all over you anguished for a piece of skin to grab onto. He leans his forehead against yours, as you both catch your breath, his hands under your shirt on your hips.

“W-what was that,” You stammer.

“Been wanting to do that since middle school,” His breath ghosts over your face as he leans back to look at you, skin flushed and chest rising rapidly.

“Since fourth grade,” You laugh, throwing your arms around his neck to pull him down to your level.

“That long?” He says incredulously.

“You were my first crush,” You admit, face flushing at the confession.

“You were mine!” He says, voice raising in astonishment.

“So we could’ve been doing that for fuckin’ years?” He says more to himself than you.

“Guess so,” You shrug your shoulders.

“No wonder everyone thought we were dating. You made the goo goo eyes at me I made the goo goo eyes at you,” He laughs.

“That was your fault! You always had an arm around my shoulder or were holding my hand. Anyone would’ve thought we were together!” You reply.

“As if you didn’t love it. Don’t think I didn’t see the way you look at me when I wear this shirt,” He teases.

“So you admit you did it on purpose?” You ask, smacking his chest.

“Course gotta make you all nervous,” He pecks you on the lips.

“Well don’t think I don’t notice all the times you stare at my boobs especially when I wear this,” You motion to your outfit.

“I fucking knew it! You’re a temptress y’know that?” He growls, pulling you in for another kiss.

“Anyway, I was always touching you because I didn’t want anyone hanging around my girl,” He mumbles at his admission, neck and cheeks flushed.

“Your girl?” You question, eyebrow raised.

“Always have been, always will be,” He reveals.

“You don’t know how many girls I had to fight off,” You chuckle.

“No way! I had to fight off half the town. You don’t even know how many fist fights I got into because of you,” he says.

“Girls are a lot more vicious. You know there was always a rumor going around about you,” You divulge.

“Oh yeah?” He motions for you to go on. “Always heard you had a big dick,” You reveal before hiding in his chest. You feel his chest vibrate as he laughs, “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He teases.

“Yes I would,” You say, gaining confidence. You look up at him, the way his chocolate brown eyes are swallowed by his pupils. He pulls you in for another kiss, this one faster and more aggressive, it almost felt primal.

“Finally!” Robin cheers from the door, Eddie groans at the sound. He forgot he called them while you were changing. Steve, Robin, and Nancy scramble down the stairs giving you both congratulations. Gareth, Jeff, and, Grant arriving a few minutes later. Eddie’s annoyance dies down when he sees your face loving the way you laugh around your friends. You spend the rest of the afternoon drinking and eating take out with them. Nancy had brought a board game, this felt like home. Having them all here, Eddie's arm wrapped around you as he kisses your temple. You were finally home.

Eddie was finally yours and you were finally his. All your internal struggles and insecurities paid off. You had won the big prize at the fair! You spend the night on a blow up mattress with Eddie, eventually popping it because he has no control. After years of waiting you both felt more than desperate, clawing at each other's clothes.

“Shit- shit shit! M’close,” You moan.

“Fuck me too!” his eyes roll to the back of his head, thrusting in and out at a brutal pace.

“Say you’re mine, wanna hear it,” He begs.

“M’yours, always yours,” You claw at his back. “Yes yes yes yes,” He rambles until you’re both seeing stars. He pulls out of you, pulling you to his sweaty chest.

“This has to be a dream,” He exhales, staring at the ceiling. You kiss his chest in response. It was all too real. Your dreams had become reality. You finally had Eddie in your arms. You were his and he was yours just like you both promised when you were children.

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actual-changeling · 9 months

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i have a thing with hands and the scene where aziraphale asks crowley to dance is playing on repeat in my head.

while yes, the primary purpose of the ball was to get maggie and nina together, it was ALSO for him and crowley, and you literally cannot convince me otherwise.

"perhaps you can tell me while we dance?"

the look on his face is pure excitement, he is basically bubbling over with it, and if you look at the few seconds before he turns around, you can see how nervous he is, too. his eyes keep flicking back and forth and he wets his lips several times and swallows before he starts talking. this is peak "i'm asking my secret crush and prom date to a dance" behaviour.

crowley's reaction is confusion ("we don't dance) but it's not a no, and aziraphale knows that. his absolutely precious, smitten smile just KILLS me, because boy he would have grabbed him and pulled him onto the dance floor (or what passes as one anyway) no matter what he responded.

yet crowley didn't say no, just "we don't do this" and aziraphale silently says we do now. and then! and THEN! before he takes his hand he glances down at it like he is trying to make sure it's where he thinks it is and that he can grab it. he's probably also just brimming with energy and excitement and it needs to be let out somehow.

but what REALLY gets me is that absolutely adorable GIGGLE he lets out when he takes crowley's hand. he GIGGLES. it's small and breathless and he licks his lips AGAIN. tell me that isn't middle school crush behaviour, he is going through so many emotions it's incredible how well michael sheen portrays all of them at once.

just. the way he is holding his hand. his thumb probably caressed the back of it when he adjusted his grasp and pulled him along, and crowley simply goes with him, zero resistance offered.

if you look closely, you can even see crowley's fingers slightly curl as if he is starting to hold his hand back properly. aziraphale wanted to dance with him so bad, to have him close and hold his hand and look into his eyes while they participate in what he thinks is the definition of falling in love. and crowley will do whatever to make him happy, and if it means dancing and touching him for several minutes, well, he sure as hell isn't going to complain about that.

long story short i'm deceased and will never recover.

#alex talks good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #aziracrow #good omens meta #good omens season 2 #good omens 2 spoilers

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cameronspecial · 5 months

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Maybe high school/college au where rafe is in a group of bullies that always picks on reader, However he tries to tell them to stop every time but one day he sees her crying in the bathroom at a Halloween party because his friends told her costume was ugly and it made her look fat, he gets super mad and he yell at them and beat the shit out of his ex friend for calling her fat, after he brings her back home and she ask him why he cared and he says something like “I’ve liked you since first day of second grade in middle school when you came in class with your little bow in your hair” 🥰🥰

Shit Friends

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Use of Fat In Deragotory Way, and a Fight.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 0.6K

Masterlist

Y/N has been excited about Marissa’s Halloween party for weeks. Her Halloween costume is a beautiful white dress that she worked all month to sew. She is going to the party as a bride and the dress is a reflection of what she wants her wedding dress to look like one day. She is so proud of her costume. Her hand grips the solo cup and she bops her head to the music. She feels their presence behind her like an ulcer she knows is there but can’t feel. Her head doesn’t turn in their direction, trying to ignore them. “Look at this boys, this fat fuck thinks someone is going to want to marry her. Not only is her dress ugly, but her face looks like a cow,” Marshall snarls, pulling back her head by her veil. Her tears come up her tear ducts and she feels how her hair pulls back with his action. Oliver shakes his head, “Nah, Marsh. She looks like a whale. I don’t know how anyone could want to marry her.” Their insults can’t continue because someone else enters the room, allowing her to make her escape to the bathroom.

——

After one too many beers, Rafe finally has to break his bladder seal and go to the bathroom. He tries the door but is met with resistance from the lock. His hand knocks on the door yet no one answers. He knows someone is in there because he can hear movement inside. His ear presses to the door and he can make out the cries of a girl. “I know you are in there. Please, let me in. I got to pee,” Rafe calls out.

Y/N recognizes his voice. Of course, she would. Not only is Rafe one of the most popular boys at school, but he is friends with her serial tormentors. Rafe is never around when the other boys bully her, yet she still doesn’t know if she can trust him. She feels bad though that he needs to pee so she unlocks it for him. He hears the lock turn and opens the door. Even though he has to pee, he pauses when he sees Y/N. Her costume looks absolutely amazing. He can tell the dress is handmade because of how well it suits her body and some of the embroidery looks hand-stitched. It looks incredible. His mind can’t help imagining her walking down the aisle to him at the end of it. He remembers he heard the cries of the person behind the door and since she is the one in the bathroom, he knows she has been crying. His eyes find hers to see her makeup running down her face, close to ruining her dress.

He abandons his need to pee and rushes to her side. “Who made you cry?” he questions with anger at that person in his voice. She tries to keep it a secret, but he keeps prying. Finally, she snaps, “It was Marshall and Oliver. They said my dress was ugly and made me look like a fat whale.” Just like she thought he would, Rafe leaves without a care for what she said.

The yelling is what catches her attention, so she goes outside to find Rafe punching Marshall and Oliver in the face. “Never. Say. Those. Words. To. Y/N. Again. Understand?” Each word he said was punctuated by a hit to his face. He looks up at her, shaking out his hand. “Why do you care enough about what they said to hurt them like that, Rafe?” “Y/N, I’ve liked you since the first day of second grade in elementary school. You came into class with your little embroidered bows at the end of your two braids. I was mesmerized by how good you were at sewing,” he confesses and takes a step closer to her. She is still a little confused, “But they're your friends.” “Eh, I’ve got shit friends. But who needs them when I hopefully have you?” he states, rushing toward her to kiss her. She lets her lips meet his and he feels like his dreams are coming true.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia

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qierxing · 7 months

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A/N: An interpreted continuation of @shiny-jr wonderful fic. (checks calendar) Uhm, happy three month update to this series AND 1k notes on the first part! I would say sorry for the wait, but I really did need it LOL. Anyway, it's not super obvious, but the timeline is a bit all over the place in this part, because I'm jumping back and forth between past and present.

TW/CW: Immolation, violence, implied stalking+actual stalking, obsessive behavior, mild psychological and body horror, toxic relationships, Yuu uses it/its pronouns, we get a little meta in here, the boys are FIGHTINGGG I. II. | Isekai AU | Yan! Heartslabyul x Reader

“Who are you?” said the Caterpillar.

This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, “I—I hardly know, Sir, just at present—at least I know who I was when I got up this morning, but I think I must have been changed several times since then.”

“What do you mean by that?” said the Caterpillar, sternly. “Explain yourself!”

“I ca’n’t explain myself, I’m afraid, Sir,” said Alice, “because I am not myself, you see.”

— Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Caroll

vi. Mourning

It is incredibly hard to get Yuu alone.

Whether it be by the forces of fate or just because so many vie for their attention, there is rarely, if ever, any time when someone is able to spend time personally alongside them. The only exception to this rule is Grim, who was practically the player's companion from the beginning.

So when Ace Trappola manages a rare chance to snag some one on one time with Yuu, he guns for it. Course, he had to time it perfectly.

It was just another night like any other. Ace and Deuce decided to come over to hang out for a casual sleepover as usual. The four of them did initially start out studying, before the textbooks and worksheets were being abandoned in favor of more exciting things, such as the deck of cards that Ace brought with him.

Sending Deuce and Grim off to get snacks through a won bet over a card game was easy as pie.

"Hey Ace?"

He hums in response, letting Yuu know he's listening. His nimble fingers shuffle the worn cards, flipping through them with practiced ease. Stacking them up quickly, he wonders if he should try to impress Yuu with another card trick to gain their enthralled praise.

"Do you…like…being my friend?"

The question makes him blink and look up in surprise at Yuu. It feels blasphemous to hear such doubt lingering in their words.

"Why? Scared I'm gonna ditch ya?" He teases.

Yuu doesn't respond, only giving a sheepish smile back.

"I-It's not like I don't like being friends with you." He tries to keep his cool. "I just-"

Yuu's smile doesn't falter. "It's okay, Ace."

He's reminded of his previous girlfriend in middle school. It was more of a fling than a serious thing, but it's something he remembers vividly. Their breakup, after all, was rather dramatic.

"You're too much, Ace. Sometimes you just take it too far."

What was even her name? Elizabeth? He could barely even remember, but for some reason, he still recalls the intense way her face was twisted in burning resentment. He tried to bury it in the past. He swore he would never fall in love or get into another relationship, preferring friendships over any kind of romantic trysts.

Now that he looks at Yuu, he already knows he's screwed up big time.

Yuu's gaze is no longer meeting his, instead staring into the fireplace that Grim had so generously set up earlier. The crackling blue flames reflect in their irises and in that moment, dread curls inside Ace's stomach. Yuu doesn't seem right.

"Hey…you okay?" He asks hesitantly, placing a hand on their shoulder.

Yuu doesn't move, still staring at the fire intently. He opens his mouth to ask again, but then they speak.

"If I wasn't acting like myself, would you still like me?"

Another question out of left field.

"Even if you somehow grow anemones on your head, Yuu's still Yuu, right?" His heart swells in pride at the way their lips quirk at his inside joke.

"Yeah…" they murmur back.

"Wanna see somethin' cool?" he says, holding out a card. Yuu tilts their head questioningly.

"It's the ace of hearts. What about it?"

"It's not just the ace of hearts!" Ace puffs out his cheeks. "Don't you know the meaning of this card?"

Yuu shakes their head.

"It means good news for yourself or someone close. Practically a lucky charm!" Ace waggles his eyebrows suggestively. "So how can things go wrong now that you have me?"

Yuu snorts and shoves him playfully. "Yeah, yeah, okay, Mr. Lucky Charm."

But it works. The foggy clouds clear from Yuu's eyes, finally returning them to the familiar luster he's used to. For the rest of the night, there is no hint of hollowness within them. And Ace hopes he will never see that sight again.

He should've known something was up since that night.

When Headmaster Crowley personally makes an appearance at their dorm, he should've realized it then. If there was anything that the old raven hated more, it was having to do more work than usual.

"That person wasn't an imposter." Crowley says, coughing awkwardly into his fist.

The solemn words echo in his head on end. The rest of the Headmaster's words start to tune out for Ace. Automatically, his legs begin to move on their own. The calls of the others chase after him, but he ignores them, racing out of the lounge and towards the mirror portal.

Because if you didn't hurt Yuu-

-then what had he done?

When he first arrived in NRC, he didn't even know that Ramshackle dorm existed. Not until Yuu came to reside there; until he had to beg for shelter from them when he was chained with that damn collar. He knew that they didn't have to take him in. But they did, and maybe that's why Ace couldn't turn his back after that.

The building before him is no longer the broken down hovel that he remembers back then. He remembers how the roof was almost caving in and wooden beams were always in danger of collapsing. Each knock on the entrance doors would send cascades of dust upon his head. Now, the walls are painted with a fresh coat of paint, the roof has new shingles, and the place actually looks like a house you could safely live in.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Prefect! Are you there?!" He yells, desperation leaking into his voice. "Please!"

Bang! Bang!

He's gotta be out of his damn mind, acting like some crazy person. But he can't help but be blinded by his fear. So he keeps hitting the door with his fists, praying, hoping, for…well that someone would open the door.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

"Yuu!!" He screams, and his voice echoes around him, mocking his helplessness. His fists are becoming numb from slamming the wood so hard, but he can't stop himself.

"Yuu–!"

"Oi! Ace!!!" A rough hand on his shoulder shoves him back and before he could knock the souvnabit-

"Ace, look at me!"

He's stopped by Deuce's fists meeting his in an even match of strength. Like an illusion broken, Ace stills and yanks his hands back.

There's only heavy breathing in between them for a long while.

"...they're not here." Ace snaps to look at Deuce, who only closes his eyes in a painful grimace.

"What do you mean, 'not here'?" Ace asks.

Deuce doesn't say anything for a beat.

"What do you mean they're–"

"They're in the infirmary." Deuce's words flow out in a breathless rush. "The Headmaster said that after you ran."

Fuck, he just acted like an idiot then. No wonder no one was responding to his absolute earth shattering door banging and yelling. Then the meaning of Deuce's words begin to sink in. Oh Seven, no–

He turns and before he could even step in the direction of the main building, his arm is yanked back.

He snarls at Deuce. "Let me go! I have to see the prefect!"

"Housewarden is calling you back." Deuce forces out through gritted teeth and closed eyes. "The Headmaster said that…they don't want to see anyone."

And like a fire put out, Ace's anger chokes to flickering embers.

He lets Deuce guide him back, all the way from the Ramshackle dorm, to the mirror portal, and then back to Heartslabyul's lounge where the other three are grimly awaiting them.

Ace half expects to be yelled at once he passes the threshold. Or get some kind of lecture on how he should have better manners than to just run off like that. It would've been just like his housewarden to only care about weird, arbitrary rules when there were other arguably more important matters.

But his housewarden sits silently on his gilded velvet throne with glassy eyes. There's no anger burning behind them, and the freshmen are terrified to see their once proud and fearsome queen reduced to this husk. He almost would rather him back to the state where he was barking out orders for them. The silence in the lounge is deafening.

Ace swears they must be all thinking the same thing.

Please let this be a bad dream.

He tried calling you. Texting you. Hell, he even tried messaging you on Magicam! Magicam, of all things!

Anxiety claws at his heart with each unread message and dial voice tone greeting. He has so much to say, to ask for-

Deuce wasn't faring well on his side either. He had also tried calling and texting you, to no avail. Grim, that traitor, hadn't come back to visit Heartslabyul at all since the incident. Never mind the fact he had only himself to blame for that—he thought at the very least the cat direbeast would have some sense of pity for their friendship and throw them a bone.

Ace tried two more times to meet you.

First, during your infirmary stay, when you were still unconscious.

The second time was when you returned to Ramshackle dorm with Grim.

Maybe the Seven were punishing him for his hubris. Or he supposes this is just karma. Because both times, he fails spectacularly at the front door of Heartslabyul. Because of this, he's the reason why Riddle had put them all on house arrest (with the exception of academic reasons, of course).

It's a declaration that would've been met with mutiny from all of them, if it weren't for the fact that even Headmaster Crowley had explicitly forbade anyone from showing up on Ramshackle's doorstep or trying to meet you. So he understands. Really! He does. He's seen how Riddle holes up in his room, muttering to himself while carrying out boxes upon boxes of crumpled paper. When he manages to snag a stray paper that flutters out on garbage day, Ace realizes that Riddle is also just as frenzied trying to reach out to you. Even if he is going about it in an old fashioned way.

He'll chip in to help. If his housewarden is left to his own devices, they’ll all be fossils by the time he sends what he deems a satisfactory letter.

And the faster they do this, the faster they have a chance of reaching you.

vii. Embalming

The most horrifying thing is that it doesn't seem to care about dying.

That cursed pile of ceramic shards had disappeared—no, pieced itself back together—and once again, it became the smiling face of Yuu, the being they all knew and used to adore.

Riddle Rosehearts immediately smashed it to pieces again under the weight of his magic.

No one had tried to stop their housewarden. Not even the faceless mobs. Even if they were all alarmed at the erratic behavior of their housewarden, they could not deny the fear of seeing something dead come back alive. With not so much as a dent or wound in them, for that matter.

The third time it happened, Riddle ordered for the remains to be dumped into the school’s incinerator at the highest heat level. Surely, that would be enough.

He watched as the incinerator roared and shuddered, shaking as if the pits of hell had opened. After a few agonizing minutes, the rumbling stops, and before he can even breathe a sigh of relief, the iron hatches creak open, and out strolls Yuu, perfectly fine and pieced together again.

It's magic. Or some kind of century old curse. Of course it is. After all, it was at a higher power than even Draconia's comprehension. Why he didn't consider the possibility beforehand is something he berates himself now.

What might be the most damning thing is that it has no fear or suspicion in its face; even after the multiple times it’s been maimed and torn apart. Not like you, who immediately closed themselves off at being hurt so thoroughly.

The irony isn't lost on him. The temptation of letting the puppet take its place back in favor of just bringing everything back to how it was is something Riddle could not deny. But now that he's actually met you, Yuu just seems more of a shadow of what he remembers during your interactions together.

It has your face. It acts like you.

But it's not you.

When Ace asks after the commotion at the Unbirthday party on how he was able to figure out that it wasn’t [First], he had to take a moment to gather his thoughts. Ace’s face changes into something of disbelief when Riddle merely replies with: “[First] takes their tea with two sugars and a dash of milk.”

“You were so sure only because of that?”

He doesn’t want to think what Ace’s face would look like if he had explained his whole list of reasons how he realized that the puppet wasn’t you. How he soaked up as much as he could when you came over for the tea party. Your expressions, your little habits, the way you fidget…it was all filed away in Riddle's head and later, his private notebook.

But that doesn’t matter now. Now, there’s an even bigger problem than the puppet resurrecting itself.

Grim is missing again.

This alone should've been more worrying than anything for Yuu, but it merely shrugs and says it’s not sure where he scampered off to. He's more than suspicious, of course, but there is no proof, which is infuriating already.

But without Grim, they are missing the key to finding [First].

The others raise hell once they hear the news Riddle reports at the weekly housewarden meeting. A new wave of tension washes over NRC and with it, an unprecedented deep disdain for the puppet. It returns back to classes unannounced, making Ace and Deuce rant to him about how weird it is that it’s trying so hard to act like nothing had happened. It attends school events with their camera, drumming up conversations like normal between all of them; despite the fact it gets ignorance or violence in response (depending on the person it greets).

But none of them are really sure on how to interact with Yuu.

The nicer ones, like Trey or Deuce, entertain Yuu with frigidly civil responses, in hopes of boring the puppet and making it flit away to another victim. Meanwhile, he and Ace have finally come together on an agreed opinion: that they would rather die before letting the puppet even think it could take [First]’s place.

“Go away.”

Yuu merely smiles in response to Riddle’s annoyed voice. The puppet leisurely lounges in the chair across the table from him. The school library is vast but empty, his authoritative voice echoing down the long halls. Several floating books flit past above their heads and the chandeliers above flicker with bright candlelight.

“I just wanted to keep you company.” Riddle purses his mouth in disgust. It’s invasive, it’s gross, and most of all it feels wrong to hear those words coming from Yuu.

“I didn’t ask for your company,” he replies coldly. “Shouldn’t you know that it’s bad manners to bother someone who wants to be left alone?”

“I don’t think you like being left alone, Riddle.” He flinches at the way Yuu’s eyes bore into him. “Well, then again, you sure like to pretend you’re fine, don’t you?”

His hand tightens around the textbook he’s reading about cursed dolls. There would be no point if he brought out his magical pen and reduced it to rubble. But he is tempted, if only to get some peace and quiet for just a few minutes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Riddle says.

“Hmm…” Yuu hums into its hand, “...then I suppose I will just let you be. What a shame, I had something entertaining to tell.”

“What? What do you mean?”

Yuu giggles and waves him off. “No, no! You said you didn’t want my company now. Why should I tell you anything?”

He resists the urge to incinerate the book in his hands. “Fine! I would like your company. What is this ‘entertaining’ thing you want to tell me so badly?”

“Hmm…how insincere,” Yuu tilts its head coyly with a smile more akin to a smirk. “But I guess that’s the most I can get.”

“Since you’ve all been driving yourselves crazy, [First] is safe.” The floor feels like it’s been yanked underneath him. The puppet is smiling still, as if it’s all some big joke rather than the revelation it delivered. He can hear his blood roaring through his ears.

“You…” Riddle snarls, face heating into a bright red rage. “What did you do to them?”

It bursts into laughter at his face.

“Why, I only granted their wish!”

Its laughter is cut short by the sound of ceramic being crushed, and Riddle is left shakily breathing at the pile of shards that used to be Yuu. The puppet’s words churn over and over in his head.

What did you wish for?

It is currently 3:20 on a Wednesday afternoon.

In his planner, the bullet point neatly penned on the schedule shows ‘Studying for History Test’ in bold blue ink for the time slot. ‘History of the Queendom of Roses’ is laid open on his desk, to the chapter about the local mythos of the area, just as he intended. His notes from lecture are next to it, with several of his stationary needed to jot down annotations.

And yet, Riddle has yet to touch any of these items or actually adhere to his daily schedule—he’s too distracted by what he should do in order to reach the player.

Riddle's already embarrassed enough, resorting to handwritten letters with the best calligraphy he can muster. He's sent only a couple that passed his satisfaction, and they have all been met with judgemental silence. He’s hunched over another crumpled letter near ripping his hair out when someone knocks on his bedroom door. He quickly shoves the envelope under some textbooks out of frantic instinct.

“Come in.”

A familiar bob of red orange hair pops out behind his door, and Riddle raises an eyebrow at the underclassman who enters.

“Ace? What is it?” Normally, Ace would never be in his room if he could help it. If he was in Riddle’s room, it most likely meant he was either being scolded or punished. And Ace’s eyes are shifting side to side, as if he was trying to sneak his way in.

“Out with it, Ace.” He’s not in the mood for the underclassman’s shenanigans.

“Housewarden, you’re writing letters to the prefect, aren’t ya?” The question completely takes him off-guard sputtering.

“W-What does t-that have to do with you?” He tries to maintain his composure, but Ace is already giving him a smug smirk for the one up on him. Of all people, it had to be him finding out.

"I had an idea, Housewarden. Why don't we send them something with the letter?" Riddle blinks in surprise.

“...How smart of you for once, Ace.” It was so simple, yet he marvels at the idea's brilliance. Perhaps there was merit in trying this proposal.

“Hey! What the hell does that mean?!” His underclassman snaps back in a huff. “Whatever, point being, maybe we should switch it up instead of letters all the time.”

He crosses his arms, “And what do you suggest? There’s not much we can really send that hasn't been sent already by other dorms.”

Ace winces. Clearly he didn’t think about the other dorms with more affluent people; people who had more than enough thaumarks and prestige to spend it to appeal to you. Riddle can't blame him either: although he is at the top of the school and his parents are well known mages, it's not like any of that could help him here. All of them, in a sense, were stuck in that situation.

For once, he starts to resent not having more.

"Ugh, well…maybe it doesn't need to be so fancy, you know?" Ace rubs his neck, face scrunched in frustration. "Like…uh…you know-flowers! People send flowers all the time, yeah?"

This is true. And for Queendom of Roses’ residents, it has become custom to send bouquets with subtle messages left in petals and stems. Although he is a bit loath to admit that he isn’t as well versed in the language of flowers compared to hedgehogs.

"And what do you recommend, Ace?" He asks. "What would be the best flower to send to the prefect in our circumstance?"

"We got all these roses, why not send them that?" Ace responds, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. Riddle coughs in annoyance.

"Why not just procure some from Sam's shop? Today is Wednesday. Do you not remember rule 228?" He chides. Ace groans, rolling his eyes.

"Not the weird rules again…"

"Ace."

"Yeeesss Housewarden…" The card soldier mock salutes with a deadpan expression. "I'll see if we can get some flowers at Sam's."

"You better, or else it's–"

"-off with my head, I got it, I got it." Riddle seethes as Ace cuts him off and dashes out of his room before he could get another word in. So troublesome…

Still, there's nothing to do except wait for his card soldier to report back. He turns back to his desk, bringing out the crumpled letter from its hiding place. Running a hand over the crumpled pages, he attempts to pick up his pen again, but fails as his thoughts begin to wander.

Riddle only manages to pen a couple legible sentences when his door slams open, banging against the wall. He almost falls out of his chair in shock from the loud noise. How was Ace back so quickly?

"Have you not heard of knocking?!" He scowls, turning around to see Ace panting and sweating as if he had run a marathon.

"Never mind that, Housewarden, I saw them!" Ace shouts.

“What are you jabbering…” Riddle trails off in realization. “You better not be horsing around, Ace.”

“Do you think I would lie to you about this?” Ace retorts frantically. “I saw them at Sam’s shop working the cashier!”

For a moment, his mind races with this information. If you were working at Sam’s shop, it would explain why you weren’t showing up to classes, let alone in the hallways or rooms of NRC. It’s a clever ruse—classes may be over during this time of day, but nearly all of them were participating in mandatory club activities or study labs. No wonder no one else has caught on to this. Riddle rubs his chin in thought, settling back in his chair.

“What are you going to do now, Housewarden Riddle?” Ace asks hesitantly. His eyes are filled with some kind of anticipation and hope, no doubt wondering if he could get some leeway in his own agenda. Normally, he would go right away as there was no need to hesitate about these kinds of things.

But. Crowley’s stern announcement comes back to his mind and guilt starts to creep in.

“First, we’ll go with your idea, Ace.” He responds. “The ban hasn’t been lifted, after all.” Ace opens his mouth to protest, but he holds a hand up to interrupt him.

“But if that doesn’t work, then I’m sure even Crowley can’t say anything about coincidences.”

viii. Calling Hours

“I’m not joking around, you two.”

There’s very few times that the vice housewarden of Heartslabyul gets truly mad. His patience seems boundless, honed by years of taking care of younger siblings at home and then dealing with rowdy underclassmen in NRC. But even his saint-like patience could only stretch so far.

“I told you, we didn’t do it!” Ace scowls with furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms. Meanwhile, Deuce is silent by his side, face twisted with conflicting emotions. “You don’t even have proof! You just singled us out just because!”

“Who else was around the kitchen when I left it?” Trey asks, voice starting to rise in anger. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you two lurking around before?”

The two freshmen began to speak out, voices rambling over each other and cascading into a loud shouting match that was barely intelligible.

“We just wanted to see if we could get something from the fridge, how were we supposed to know someone would-”

“Me and Ace just wanted to bring something along when we deliver the Housewarden’s invitation to-”

"You dumbass, don't just say that out loud-!"

It’s at this moment that Cater Diamond strolls in, takes one look at the mess of the situation and does a 180 back round to the door. But it’s too late, because the interruption is just enough for Ace to sink his hooks into him.

“Cater-senpai, you believe us, right?” Ace shouts after the orange head, making him flinch in place. “You saw us get the order from Housewarden Riddle!”

Cater turns around slowly like a door on rusty hinges, with an expression that screams of not wanting to be involved. "Oh Acey! Uhm, you mean the letter Riddle gave you two-"

"Yes!" Deuce interrupts in earnest, already trying to barrel his way to proving his innocence. "Housewarden Riddle entrusted us to deliver the tea party invitation ourselves personally."

Cater turns to Trey, who is rubbing the bridge of his nose, eyes closed with a tiredness that seems comically reminiscent of an old man. "Well, I'm not sure what this is all about, Trey, but maybe you should cut 'em some slack and let it go."

The other senior nods in reluctant agreement and the two freshmen all but nearly trample over each other trying to run from the tension filled room. But they're stopped in their tracks when Trey calls out again.

"Wait, you two." The duo slowly looks back with cautious eyes.

"You wanted to bring something to the prefect, didn't you?" Trey tilts his head to one of the many strange topsy turvey cabinets in the kitchen. "I have some leftover cookies that I made yesterday. Take them. I'm sorry for accusing you guys like that."

Ace and Deuce exchange confused glances, and although Ace looks away in denial, Deuce nods in gratitude. They leave the kitchen just as chaotically, this time with the aroma of lavender following them.

A brief silence follows their absence, while Cater raises an eyebrow at Trey.

"Sooo…care to spill the tea?"

"Don't even start." Trey groans.

Cater seats himself on one of the stools near the counter, waiting. Trey busies himself with cleaning the stoves and counter, trying not to meet Cater's eyes. Silence falls, but it's with none of the comfort that Cater is familiar with. Giving up, he turns to his phone, refreshing his Magicam dash mindlessly. This continues for a good while until finally—

A low sigh, then– "Somebody took my candied violets."

Cater looks up from his phone. Another beat passes, and he realizes it's not a passing statement.

"It's not like you to get this bent out of shape over your ingredients going MIA." Cater shifts his face onto the elbow meeting pristine marble while shoving his phone away. "You sure that one of the froshes didn't just end up taking them thinking they were for everyone?"

Trey lets out a rough guffaw. "You know better than I do that the others don't touch our stuff."

Cater taps his fingers on the polished white granite, hands already itching to grab his phone and check for updates, but he restrains himself. "That's…mostly true."

"That can only mean one of you guys has taken it." The hairs on Cater's neck raise at Trey's tone.

"Hey now," Cater grins, raising his hands in mock surrender, "you heard it from those two. I was with Riddle when he gave them that invitation."

"I know." Cater's fingers twitch as Trey carelessly tossed aside the rag used to clean the counter into a bucket. The soggy fabric makes a hollow sound against the wood, echoing rather loudly in contrast. "But Riddle would never do such a thing either."

Cater resists the urge to roll his eyes. It's true that their cute housewarden would hardly dare to stoop to thievery, but Trey's blind faith in him can be annoying at times. After all, didn't their little teapot tyrant threaten to kill the prefect at one point?

He supposes that was his fault, though.

"Then it's back to square one." Cater shrugs. "Besides, what were you even planning to do with them if you weren't gonna eat it?"

The baker runs a hand through his mussed forest green hair and frowns. "I was going to bake a cake with them as a peace offering to the prefect."

Cater's mouth forms an 'o' shape in realization. "That's pretty big brain."

"Yeah, but look how that turned out."

"It's fine~you were able to at least send cookies this time round." Cater finally cracks, digging into his pocket for the familiar grooves of his phone case. "All's well that ends well, right?"

Trey doesn't respond and Cater is too engrossed in his phone to look up to see his expression. He slides off the stool naturally, tapping through recent posts and comments, eyes laser focused on recent posts on his dash.

"Cater."

There it is. It's the most recent story reel by Ace(according to the time stamp, about two minutes ago). It's an inconspicuous black out picture with several cute teapot and teacup stickers decorating the screen. The banner message is short and sweet: 'Dorm tea party bout to get real this month 🤔😶'

"Cater." Cater's attention snaps back and towards his friend, who gazes at him with dark eyes.

"Please don't lie to me next time."

With that, Cater watches as his long time friend finally leaves the kitchen.

Thank the Seven he did. He might have been a decent actor, but Trey has been with him through thick and thin, and it's given him the annoying ability to see through his tells.

Really now. Trey knows that he hates sweets. Shouldn't that be enough of an alibi?

It's not fair that Trey already has everything to set him up for a good relationship with you. Even if they're all set back by their violent reaction to you arriving in this world, he's sure it would only take a couple tries with Trey offering genuine heartfelt food to get to you.

It's just not fair.

Isn't he fun to hang out with? He consistently gets compliments online for his suave looks and easy personality. So why couldn't he compare to-

He shakes his head. There's no point in overthinking it now. Cay Cay #3 had easily taken the cutely decorated jar of violets and discarded it in the dorm dumpster. Like candy from a baby.

He knows it's petty. But for once, he feels much better, knowing that he upset Trey's original plans to ensnare you.

Now, he once again checks Ace's story reel and screenshots it, while quickly pulling up the search bar. He just needs to level the playing field.

There can only be one fake bitch in this house and Cater has had enough of the competition.

“I wasn’t aware that you were going to visit me, Cater.”

The puppet tilts its head with a warm smile, but there’s a frosty undercurrent to the greeting. It’s clear that he’s not welcome, if the way it’s blocking the doorway of Ramshackle has anything to say.

“Yeah, I ended up losing something here. You mind if I look for it, Yuu-chan?” Cater asks innocently. “Promise it won’t take too long.”

“Hm, sure. But I don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for.” Yuu's grin is sharp as a razor blade. It knows what he’s here for and it’s definitely taunting him. That little–

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to look~” He responds back airily. His fist curls around his phone in his pocket tightly. The puppet shrugs and walks off, leaving him standing in the doorway.

It’s been a while since he’s personally been at Ramshackle dorm. Cater remembers how Ace complained about the house being a real fixer upper, but then again, he doesn’t remember much of that, since Yuu always spent most of the time at Heartslabyul dorm. The renovations certainly made it much more pleasing to the eye and more importantly, livable by HOA standards.

There’s nothing to write home about the living room. The coffee table is bare and there’s no wrinkles in the sofa cushions at all. It’s a little eerie—as if no one even lived in the house in the first place. The only sign of living was perhaps the fact it is clean of dust or dirt.

Nothing in the kitchen either. He gives a wayward glance to the second floor, searching for any signs of movement. Couldn’t hurt to be thorough.

Rows of tall doors pass by as Cater opens each one of them. A storage closet, a spare room, an electric cabinet, another storage area–it all blurs by after the fourth door. There really is nothing, as if the whole house has been wiped of any trace of you. He's about to toss in the towel when an old, dusty memory crops up. His little freshman, Ace. Cater swears he had been making fun of Yuu for seeing strange things at night. Something about a mouse?

Right, their room! Why didn't he think of looking there?

His feet take him rapidly from memory to the door that was the third from last in the hallway in the east wing. He manages to wrench the door open to see a regular bedroom, bed sheets barely stirred. Before he can even put one foot in, a throat clears behind him.

"It's rather rude to go into other people's bedrooms, don't you think?"

You got to be kidding me. Cater turns around with the fakest smile plastered across his face. Yuu looks unamused, tapping its foot impatiently against the wooden floorboards.

"Just wanted to make sure, y'know?" Cater replies. Yuu gives a tight smile back. It goes around him and shuts the door with a hard thunk.

"Ever heard about how curiosity killed the cat?"

Cater shakes his head in surrender, "I guess I need to look elsewhere for my lost item."

The entrance doors slam shut behind him hard enough to startle several birds out the dead trees in the yard. Cater doesn't bother giving a look back as he strides out of the yard and past the gated fence surrounding the property. That glimpse was enough and much more. Cater smirks to himself, taking his phone out and sending a quick text message to the group chat. Yes, curiosity may have killed the poor kitty cat…

But satisfaction brought it back.

viiii. Eulogy

It might surprise people to know that Trey Clover's first real friend is Che'nya Pinker.

That's not to say that Trey had trouble getting along with others as a kid, oh no. Everyone in his neighborhood agreed that he was a very sweet boy, who looked out for others around him. When he wasn’t taking care of his baby sister, he would be asked by other parents around the block to look after their own children, whether that be playing soccer games with the more energetic kids or patty cakes with the quiet ones. So it isn’t a stretch to say that he’s friends with nearly everyone. But Che’nya was a special case.

Their first meeting is still burned into Trey’s memory.

“You see it too, don’cha?” The boy had greeted him while swinging upside down on a low hanging tree branch. Trey had half a mind to scold him for the dangerous action before he actually looked at him.

The first thing that takes Trey off guard is that he has eyes. They’re a shiny yellow, just a shade lighter than his. His pupils are long and thin, not round like his at all. He supposes it must be like a cat’s pupils—for he’s never seen anything like it. Then it’s his unique colorful hair, streaks of light pink intermingling with dark purple, making a strange striped pattern across the chopped uneven hair. Trey faintly recalls a certain cat from their local legends, whose fur boasted those very same colors.

“...What are you talking about?” Trey eyes him warily. The cat boy gives a cheeky grin. He vanishes and then reappears in front of him, albeit with missing arms.

“The people around us who wear the faces of strangers.” Trey’s skin gets goosebumps at the way the boy observes him. He is not looking through Trey, but at him. Their eyes are directly making contact. “But you’re different. You have the face of a friend.”

“And what do you mean by that?” Trey furrows his eyebrows. The boy's grin stretches wider in response. (His teeth were rather blunter than expected, but his canines were pointed.)

“You’re strange. I’m stranger. Together, we can both be strange,” the cat boy chirps back lightheartedly. “The name’s Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. But you can just call me Che’nya.”

Something in his mind had clicked then. It’s hard to explain the feeling–just that it felt like a puzzle piece put into place. He hadn’t known it then, but at that point, the hands of fate had moved.

Whatever the case may be, Trey was grateful to have Che’nya. Because now he knows that he isn’t crazy; not when he couldn’t see his parent’s faces nor his baby sister’s or even his other friends'. Che’nya too, only shrugs his shoulders when Trey asks him about his grandfather.

“The old man? Yeah, they say I have his eyes, but I wouldn’t know.” The statement is so casually delivered that Trey can hardly believe he’s talking about his only living relative and guardian. “His face does not mirror mine in my mind.”

Staring down at you, shivering with cold and hunger, he feels something churn in him again, just like that fateful day.

He has his orders from Riddle: bring in the imposter alive. Trey isn’t a violent sort and nor does he enjoy boasting his strength over others like a sadist. And he cannot deny the feeling of cold rage that day when Yuu shuts down, fear inundating him that he may never, ever, get an explanation for the world he was born in. Why he and Che’nya were special, why he had to witness Riddle suffer under his mother–what was it all for?

Your face. There is no blank stretched skin—he can see your wide open eyes, bloodshot and fixated on him. Your mouth too, shaped in a pained grimace, lips bruised and bloodied from previous skirmishes. Surely, surely, there must be a reason why you were here. Why you bear the same face as Yuu. You hold all the answers, if you would just cooperate.

“Hey, I’m not gonna hurt you,” Trey tries reaching out, but you scurry back into the hedges, squinted eyes wary and untrusting. You remind him of a frightened hedgehog, prickly spines bristled and body curled in to protect yourself. “I just wanna talk.”

“Go away, please,” the imposter quietly pleads. “Just pretend you never saw me! I swear I didn’t even know how I got here…”

Trey swallows hard.

“Just come quietly. Please.” He is the one begging now. “It’ll be easier for all of us.”

“For who?” The imposter barks a sharp laugh. Trey doesn't miss the way they wince in pain from their wounds. “For me? Or for you?”

He doesn’t have an answer. The sound of running footsteps has him turning, and when he looks back, you’re already gone. The only traces that you were there at all were faint splotches of red blood and crushed grass.

Trey wonders if this, too, was meant to be fate.

—

Trey’s been lovingly dubbed as someone reliable. Some consider him to be an older brother figure due to his nagging and supportive care. It's ingrained in him at this point from the years he’s spent playing babysitter. Trey knows the students around him are not his younger siblings who need constant watching (although their actions say otherwise).

But he worries.

Just a bit. Trey knows better than anyone that you can take care of yourself just fine. He's seen how you carry yourself within those hedges.

It's just that, he doesn't know if you're okay right now. How could he know? You've been silent even in the face of Riddle's unceasing letters. So of course he's just a bit unsure if you're actually okay, or if you don't trust them enough to say so.

Trey finds himself more frustrated with the ban they're under. Not because of the inability to see you, although that is part of it. No, it's because Riddle has managed to skirt around that rule to desperately grab onto you, and that was just enough to wear you down.

He thinks if he was bold enough, he could've tried.

As if it wasn't enough, even Ace and Deuce find their own way to get to you, snatching up the chance to deliver the monthly tea party invitation. It takes everything in Trey to clench his teeth and let go—even when Cater ruins his plans. He can't get mad here because it won't get him any closer to you. He has to be the bigger person.

If there is one thing Trey knows about Cater, it's that he absolutely hates getting sweaty or dirty. If Cater wasn’t trying to get out of running those P.E laps, he would absolutely be shirking any extra work assigned. So he's more than suspicious when Cater bounces up to him with a grin saying he could help cover Trey's science club duty of watering plants.

Trey likes to think he can tell when Cater’s lying. His close friend's happy go lucky demeanor often throws off others, but he’s been with him long enough to pick out his subtle tells. His eyebrow twitches when he’s particularly anxious and the corner of his mouth tends to perk up if he’s feeling particularly daring or desperate. Trey figures this must be something that even he can’t trust Trey with, if he’s going out of his way to take on extra work.

So Trey considers this repayment for letting him take his violets. He watches as Cater dashes off in labwear, waiting for a minute, before following after him. His duty was in the tropical zone of the botanical garden, so he has no worries even if he does lose him.

He nearly does a double take when he sees you walking in the courtyard hallways by yourself. And before Trey could rethink his actions, he follows behind you, eyes not leaving your form for a minute.

You look like you haven't slept well. There's dark circles under your eyes. He hopes you're brushing your teeth. There’s no signs of bandages or wounds that he remembers you in, which he supposes is one relief. Even if he so desperately wishes to cook you a proper meal—you look like you could fall over at any minute.

The realization your path is leading to the botanical garden comes just as Trey catches sight of the glass dome. He wants to rush in after you, but he stops himself just as the door swings close behind your form.

Cater is in there. It all makes sense now. Trey has to give it to him—Cater really does know every little happening in the school. But Trey knows him well too—and if he had to guess, even if Cater manages to talk to you, it won’t end pretty. His inability to be genuine will definitely only set you on edge and less likely to reciprocate.

The waiting game he plays is nothing compared to the silence he had to endure before. Trey doesn’t have to look to know that you’re the one slamming open the doors to the botanical gardens, labwear dirtied and face twisted in a frustrated anger. He watches as you enter Professor Crewel’s office again and after some time, pop back out in completely different clothes.

His chest tightens in longing as he continues to follow after (more from an instinctual drive now, rather than deliberate), trying to keep you in sight within the stone pillars. He wants to call out after you so badly and ask you what’s the matter, if you need help with anything. If there was anything he could do to make you forgive him for watching you bleed out on dewy grass. The sun is about to set, warm golden rays flickering between pillars and casting long shadows. Trey’s so enamored with following after you that he flinches back when the sun directly shines into his eyes, blinding him momentarily.

He barely manages to get a hold of himself. By the time his eyes blink away the blurry blots, he realizes you’re looking back at him. His breath stops. Your eyes are wide and frightened as they are that day, and his heart drops to his stomach. Both of you don’t move, merely staring at each other.

You finally break the connection, turning around and quickly walking away. Trey gasps, remembering to breathe, lungs screaming for air.

What was that?

x. Entombment

It's a nice sunny afternoon in the Heartslabyul domain. There weren't any track club activities nor dreaded remedial lessons. If anything, this free time would have been perfect for a nap. He hadn’t been up to any large shenanigans like this since the whole fiasco of [First] and Yuu.

“I don’t think this is a good idea.”

Ace scoffs, rolling his eyes. “You got a better one, loosey Deucy? If we don’t do this now, then all of us are stuck until Housewarden grows a pair of balls.”

Deuce Spade bites his lips. “I just think there might be a better way around this.”

“Yeah? And the sky is blue. Keep going, we don't have much time." Ace cranes his neck to the side of the bush, eyes warily looking out to make sure the coast is clear.

Deuce grumbles but continues plucking, some roses already tucked within his arms. They chose a bush the furthest away from the dorm, in a hidden corner where no arched windows could overlook them. It was necessary, because today was Wednesday, and the Housewarden would have their heads for plucking his beloved roses out of all the flora.

His fingers are bleeding already, finger pads torn from repetitive tugging on the thorns and stems. They couldn’t afford taking any of the gardening tools, lest they be questioned for what they were doing with them. Still, even he had his limits.

“Why is it that you aren’t helping at all?” Deuce snipes at Ace, who scowls back.

“You want to be caught by someone, genius?” Ace replies snarkily. “Someone has to keep look out.”

“Doesn’t explain why I have to do all the work.”

Ace rolls his eyes, deigning not to bother engaging in another futile argument that would lead to nowhere. Deuce is about to cut off a particularly stubborn rose when Ace pipes up again.

“...Did they ever respond to your texts?” Deuce only deflates in response. Ace’s mouth slants crookedly in an annoyed grimace. The two of them know full well what the answer to that was.

“Damn that cat…” Ace mutters bitterly under his breath. Deuce doesn’t say anything. He too, is finding it hard to not feel petty towards Grim right now. Weren’t they friends? He could’ve afforded to help them out somehow. But it’s no use. Their texts went unanswered. Headmaster had banned them from stepping foot onto Ramshackle grounds. It’s like you had closed everything off from them.

It’s why he doesn’t protest this plan, as reckless as it is. He’s not any better than Ace—he needs to see you. He and Ace were your closest friends, your first friends! He loved you. That had to mean something. If it didn’t, then…

“I think this is enough.” Deuce adjusts the messy bouquet in his hands, attempting to hold them without crushing the delicate petals. Ace looks over and nods in approval. He takes out crimson ribbons and a silk handkerchief and begins tying it around the stems in a very artful way that has Deuce’s eyebrows raising.

“Where did you get that?” Ace smirks in response at the interrogative question.

“Don’t worry about it.” Ace snatches the bouquet from his hands and slips in an envelope with the housewarden’s seal. Deuce silences the questions on the tip of his tongue. For whatever Ace has planned, he’s rather not know anything more troublesome than necesscary.

What he failed to account for was getting caught. Housewarden Riddle was beyond furious for what they did. It was only by Trey and Cater's gentle reminders that what they did was for all of them, that he only calmed down.

Deuce supposes three days with the collar is better than a week. Even if it is a heavy thing that weighs on his very soul.

He only hopes that you don't notice the thorns they forgot to trim.

—

It’s a given that although Trey is the right hand of Heartslabyul, Cater is considered the left hand of Housewarden Riddle. It’s been that way since Deuce himself enrolled in NRC, and possibly even further back. He hadn’t understood it quite then, but after some time, he realized something that he should’ve realized a long time ago.

To never get on Cater’s bad side.

There are events where the five of them gather outside of Yuu’s influence. Administrative meetings, monthly tea parties, and the occasional casual hang out. When you’re aware of how much of your life is affected from being not like the others, it’s common to side with those who are like you.

Cater had called the meeting this time. It was a bit out of the blue, at least for him and Ace. It’s only when they’re all gathered around the playing table in the lounge, not another soul in sight, when Deuce realizes Cater has that gleam in his eye. One that screams that he got a viral lead on a hot topic. His upperclassman must have been investigating.

"Remember how mirrors are considered to be portals?"

Deuce's neck prickles.

"Your point, Cater?" Their housewarden is impatient, not aware of what the question poses. His arms are crossed with his eyebrows furrowed in a frustrated glare. Deuce realizes that he must have been the one to send out Cater.

"There's a mirror in the prefect's bedroom." Deuce blurts out, and Riddle’s steely eyes snap over in surprise. Cater nods in affirmation.

"Yeah. I only managed a glimpse, but Yuu covered their mirror." Cater says.

“Hold on, you went into the prefect’s bedroom? Scratch that, to Ramshackle?” Ace asks. “Why are we just getting this now?”

“Because I just came back Acey,” Cater flicks his forehead, causing Ace to exclaim in pain. Trey smiles faintly at the action. “Also Riddle told me to keep it confidential—you two would have ran straight out if we had told you.”

Deuce sheepishly rubs his neck at Cater’s pointed sentence. Riddle rubs his chin in thoughtfulness, eyebrows still furrowed.

“But there isn’t anything magical about that mirror, is there?” Riddle asks, skepticism coating his tone. “The puppet could have simply covered that mirror out of an odd preference.”

“Acey, didn’t you mention that Yuu always mentioned seeing things in that mirror?” Cater responds, deflecting the question upon his underclassmen. Ace straightens as he and Deuce both exchange a glance.

“Yeah…something about a mouse in their mirror,” Ace answers slowly, face scrunched in an effort to recall memories. “I always thought it was just crazy dreams but…”

“Yuu was always insisting about it,” Deuce chimes in. “Said the mouse speaks to them and everything—that there was another world it was in.”

Trey and Cater share a furtive glance together before looking at Riddle. Their housewarden seems to be taking in the new information, closing his eyes in thought. For a while, no one dares to speak.

“What do you think, Riddle?” Trey finally breaks the heavy silence, and Deuce breathlessly releases a sigh. Leave it to Trey to speak for all of them.

“If the mirror in the bedroom is magical, then that changes things.” Riddle pronounces with conviction. “If that mirror potentially holds a dimension, then that would be the perfect place to trap someone.”

“Cater.” The orange head straightens to attention at the stern command. “Find a way to get the puppet out of the dorm for a while. We’ll need to look into this ourselves.”

Cater smirks and a chill runs down Deuce’s spine. While Cater still has an easy going look, his jade green eyes have darkened with a sadistic gleam.

“Roger that, housewarden!” His upperclassman chirps, already taking out his phone.

Riddle is already barking orders that each of them are to take up within this mission of theirs. But Deuce nearly misses his task, eyes stuck on Cater’s face as he scrolls his phone.

He catches a glimpse of a photo before it’s quickly clicked away. Deuce snaps back to Riddle just in time for Cater to shoot him a wary glare, checking to make sure no one else was looking.

Deuce is very glad he is working together with Cater.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #my works #damn this is the most ive ever written.....insane

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livinginshambles · 7 months

Text

Preview: But what about me? | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: Established relationship - James is whipped for you, and so it doesn't seem to occur to him that spending that much time with a new girl would be uncool. You try your best to be unbothered, but when he forgets about your birthday, which aligns with your two year anniversary, and plans to take that other girl out, you decide to finally take action. He's stupid, but he's yours.

Notes: I didnt like where this was going so the full fic is taking a different course.

Masterlist

____________________

Every five years, the Triwizard Tournament is held, and you were utterly thrilled at the prospect of getting to experience it twice, after having experienced it during your first year at Hogwarts. You were already looking forward to it and chatted away on the Hogwarts Express.

Remus wasn’t really listening while you gushed about meeting the people from different schools. He was rather busy going through the material of DADA. You wished you had his determination and self-discipline.

Sirius was scribbling away on a piece of paper, and you would almost think that he was following Remus’ example of being a model student, if you hadn’t already seen that he was meticulously planning out a few pranks.

Well, it didn’t really matter who listened to you anyway, because you were just so excited that you rambled on to get it out of your system and didn’t require much beside the occasional hum or nod.

This was exactly what James was doing right now. He was way too caught up in admiring the glitters that you had sprayed on your hair this morning and was unconsciously drawing circular patterns on your hip with the arm that was slung around you.

“Do you think we’ll have a Yule ball this year?” You continued. “Well, they only hold the Yule ball every 4 years, but it’s been a while since the Triwizard Tournament and the Yule ball lined up together, isn’t it?” You looked up at James whose attention had moved to focus on your face and were met with a soft kiss to the corner of your lips. You smiled in the kiss when James’ lips travelled to meet yours properly.

“Really Prongs?” Sirius snorted. “You’re really doing it in front of all of us?”

James pointedly ignored him and instead tried to pull you a little bit closer. Not that that was possible because you were already joined to the hip and leaning into him.

“Oh, now you’re just doing it on purpose,” Sirius complained, and you would imagine the grimace on his face if you weren’t too preoccupied with James, who was leaving small pecks against your lips.

“Don’t like what you see, look away,” James murmured against you, but loud enough for Sirius to hear.

“Sod off Potter, I would look away from you getting all chummy with our Y/N, but you’re kind of right in my sight,” Sirius huffed dramatically, and he slumped against Remus. You softly pushed James away and offered Sirius a sheepish look.

“Sorry,” you grinned unapologetically.

Sirius waved you off. “Yeah, yeah, how would you feel if I start snogging with someone, right in front of you,” he sarcastically retorted. Remus gave him an unimpressed look.

“Well, what if it was our mutually best friend?” Sirius tried to correct himself. Remus shook his head amusedly. “Go sleep, Padfoot,” he sighed.

You sniffed and nudged James. “You have any tissues?”

“Why did you forget to bring any?” He clicked his tongue. “I vaguely remember to tell you not to forget them when you’re in the middle of a cold?” He teased. You stuck your tongue out. “I’m only sick because of your kisses in the first place.”

“And I’m making up for it by giving you this incredibly soft and sweet scented tissue,” James winked. You snorted and accepted the tissue, snatching it away.

“Ah. What a great boyfriend I am,” James mused out loud to himself. “Lucky for you that I don’t forget things when it comes to you,” he flirted, and you playfully kicked his foot.

Full fic

#james potter x reader #james potter fic #james potter x fem!reader #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #james potter angst #james potter fluff #james potter imagine #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #marauders x reader #marauders fic

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stars4gojo · 6 months

Text

Paper rings

I’m with you even if it makes you blue

Gojo x Fem! Reader // progression of their relationship, fluff, maybe some angst? Gojo and reader parent Megumi & Tsumiki together // 1.6k words

3 times you asked Gojo to marry you and the one time he asked you.

More of my work🩷

Gojo Satoru, an incredibly familiar name to you ever since you were a child. He was the notorious loud boy who ran around in the park as if he owned it when you were 6. Growing up in the same neighbourhood as him was not easy, he was boisterous, loud and selfish; always acting as if he owned the slide demanding a password for anyone who wanted to play on it. You deemed yourself to be brave when you first approached the boy, being persistent about forming a friendship with him despite his efforts to avoid you, claiming that girls have ‘cooties.’ Unfortunately for him you weren’t one to give up, you had taken a liking towards the spoiled boy others in the neighbourhood feared, taking even Gojo himself by surprise.

The first time you had asked Gojo to marry you was a subtle evening in summer. It was the last week before summer break started, you would be leaving to visit your grandparents throughout the summer like usual.

“Will you miss me Toru?” You questioned him while sucking on the bright blue popsicle which was dripping everywhere due to the unendurable heat.

“Huh? I won’t miss you and what’s with the nickname I told you to not call me that..” He replied, almost mumbling the last part as his rosy cheeks lit up in embarrassment due to the nickname.

“Well I’m going to miss you. You know I won’t be here for all three months Toru.” You added ignoring his wishes to not use that nickname.

“But you’re coming back right?” He questioned with the rosy tint not leaving his cheeks.

“Of course! I would never leave you, I’m going to marry you so I can’t leave just yet.” You replied while little giggles escaped your mouth.

“You’re going to marry me…?” He questioned back.

“Yes I will.” You spoke with utter certainty as if he had no say in who he would marry.

“I’d like to see you try…Race you back to the park!” He added while suddenly getting up on his feet and running away.

“Hey! No fair!” You called back as your tiny legs chased after him.

—

The second time it happened was when you two were in middle school, now too old to play pirates in the local park. You got into the habit of taking walks around the area and watching the younger children play.

It was the night before the first day of middle school, all sorts of emotions of anxiety and excitement going through your mind.

“Middle school huh?” Gojo started.

No response from you.

“You don’t look too excited.” He added while scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

And to no surprise there was no response from you causing him to snap his fingers infront of your face waking you up.

“What are you thinking about?” He questioned softly unlike his usual character.

“Just wondering about what you said…” you replied silently.

“We’re gonna be in different classes this year.” You added while sighing in disappointment.

“Oh cmon we don’t know that yet I can’t believe you’re so upset over that, I thought something serious happened!” Gojo shouted back almost in relief.

“It is serious!!” You fought back, “Being in different classes means that we won’t ever be paired up for like anything and then you won’t ever have the time for me and then we won’t spend any time together which means I can’t marry you!” You huffed in frustration crossing your arms around your chest while a pout formed on your lips.

You couldn’t dare to turn around to look at Gojo after your daring confession.

“WHAT!” He shouted back after a moment of silence and you finally turned towards him.

“Yo- you’re crazy! No way in hell I’m going to marry you.” He stuttered back while the familiar red tint covered his face.

“Whatever…” you huffed out.

“Let’s just go home…you need food! Right that’s what you need to stop saying such nonsense.” He spoke quickly in embarrassment as he held your hand and started dragging you to the corner shop with him to buy you that same blue popsicle you’ve been having since you were 6.

You two ended up being in the same classes for the next three years still being known as the most inseparable duo that walked in your small town.

—

The final time you had to asked Gojo to marry you was right before high school. You always knew Gojo’s little secret about him being a jujutsu sorcerer, truth is you were from a family of them as well. But you never had any passion of continuing practicing jujutsu unlike Gojo who was destined to grow up to be the strongest sorcerer to exist.

You had refused to go to your grandparents this summer so you and Gojo could spend your first and last summer together.

It was 2:43 AM and the two of you were sprawled over your bed.

High school was starting in a week but Gojo was leaving early to go to his special jujutsu high school.

“Can’t believe summer is already over.” You started while munching on the leftover pizza from a few hours ago as Gojo hummed in acknowledgment.

“Can’t believe you’re leaving too.” You sighed as you sat up, trying to bring up the topic the two of you have been desperately avoiding.

“I’m just going to Tokyo won’t forget you or anything.” He mumbled back.

“You won’t know that unless you actually go there.” You harshly grumbled under your breath causing Gojo erupt in a small fit of laughter.

“You think I’ll find better friends or what?” He asked in between laughing as you smacked him on his chest.

“You’re all I have here Toru this isn’t funny.” You rolled your eyes at how unserious he was being.

“You have Hana from across the street.” He replied back purposely naming the girl who you hated the most as you whined in disapproval.

“You know Toru?” You started as he hummed again, “you should marry me.”

“What?” He replied in surprise.

“If you marry me you won’t have to go to that stupid high school and I’m from a family of jujutsu sorcerers and your mom definitely loves me so then there’s nothing to worry about.” You spoke but had no actual confidence in your words.

“I can’t just marry you like that.” He spoke in slight disbelief as his eyebrows raised.

“So this is it then?” You sighed in disappointment.

“No it isn’t I told you I’m not dying I’m just moving to another city! You can come visit anytime!” Gojo spoke in slight frustration.

“Okay! Okay! I got it!” You shouted back defeatedly as you raised your hands in the air.

“Promise you won’t forget me?” You added as you put your pinky out.

“You’re gonna make me make a pinky promise?” He deadpanned.

“Yes I will now quick do it!” You giggled back.

“So bossy…” he mumbled under his breath but nonetheless he stuck out his pinky, promising you that he would always remember you.

—

Now it’s been 5 years since that interaction, Gojo had not broken that promise only because you took it upon yourself to not let him go - moving with him to Tokyo and joining jujutsu high.

He thought you were crazy when you jumped on the same train as him the next morning but now he thanks you everyday for making such a spontaneous decision.

You two now share a home with two children who walk around like they own the place.

The two of you are currently on a walk home after another dinner date. Gojo has been insisting on taking you on dates to fancy restaurants for the past couple of weeks but whenever you two actually sit down for the date he seems distracted as if he’s hiding secrets that he desperately wants to say but can’t.

“I liked the restaurant from last week better.” You mumbled breaking the exhausting silence that has taken over you two for the entire night.

And to no surprise there was no reply from him.

“Toru!!” You shouted as he snapped back in to reality.

“W-what? Why are you screaming?” He questions in surprise.

“Nothing…” you spoke defeatedly.

“I’m cold Toru.” You started again as the winter breeze became stronger.

“I told you to bring your jacket you can’t have mine tonight.” He replied as he continued walking.

You knew it was silly to get upset over this, it’s only just a jacket. But it’s not just that, the mumbles under his breath and just how lost he is with you now is just making you question the relationship.

So you stop walking, waiting for him to notice you are no longer with him but he still keeps walking without turning back.

“Toru!!” You called out as he turned around in shock.

“What are you doing so far back?” He spoke softly slowly walking towards you taking your hand into his, to which you slyly took advantage of as you put your hand in his pocket where you felt a small velvet box, taking it out of his pocket in surprise.

“What’s this Toru?” You questioned as your eyebrows furrowed.

The way he turned around to see you was almost comical.

“Give that back!” He shouted while snatching it from your hand and shoving it back in the pocket as a big smile rolled across your lips.

“Oh my god Toru I can’t believe you! Is this what all the fancy dates were about?” You hummed out.

“It was supposed to be a surprise.” He mumbled as he looked down.

“Can you believe I thought you were gonna break up with me?” You added as a little laugh slipped.

“Let’s go home Toru”

Only to your surprise your boyfriend was no longer walking next to you, turning around only to see him on his knee.

—

Honestly really proud of this one hope you guys enjoy it🤍

Requests are open btw feel free to send anything through but keep it all appropriate.

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spooky-holtz · 4 months

Text

I'll Be Home For Christmas

Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Genre: fluff (possibly alludes to smut at one point? If you squint?)

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: I know Christmas was almost two weeks ago but this has been sitting in my drafts for weeks. So enjoy, even if my timing is a little off :)

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December. Quite easily the best and worst month of the school year. As another calendar year winds down, so do rigorous lesson plans, with most teachers at Abbott choosing to give in to the growing excitement among the students as the holidays draw nearer.

Less time is spent actually teaching and a lot of allocated lesson time is spent watching movies on huge, outdated TV screens, students gathered around the devices on Eagles rugs that were so generously ‘donated’ by Melissa earlier that year.

As the month goes on you find yourself spending more time inside your classroom, herding the group of preteens that make up the school choir as successfully as you would herd cats. Needless to say, it’s been a stressful few weeks of carol singing and rehearsals, trying to convince a group of kids that it’s not ‘lame’ or ‘cringe’ to appreciate music the way you do.

As the resident music teacher at Abbott Elementary, you find it incredibly difficult to get young people inspired in the way you so desperately want them to be, often having to let go of the talent you see among some aspiring young musicians for reasons outside of your control. Though the budget doesn’t stretch to allow much in the way of extracurricular activities, choir practice is the one activity where you have your greatest tool already at your disposal; your voice.

As much as you adore these kids, getting them to concentrate after a full day of learning is no easy feat, with them often choosing to sit around in groups gossiping or scrolling on Tik Tok rather than join you around the old piano that stands in place of a desk in your classroom, where you sit on your creaky stool, waiting for them to join in with you.

After a particularly difficult lunchtime choir practice in the middle of December, you find your feet carrying you to the sanctuary you often retreat to during your breaks: the teachers’ lounge. You trudge along the hallway, the heels of your sneakers squeaking slightly against the polished concrete floor as you struggle to find the motivation to get you there, dragging your feet along the floor.

As your hand wraps around the handle and you pull the door toward you, you’re instantly engulfed with the scent of burnt coffee and the sound of chatter as the little groups that sit around the room carry on their conversations, entirely too distracted to notice the door opening.

Jim Gardner addresses the room from the small TV that sits on the opposite end, his newscast largely going unnoticed by the audience as they munch on leftovers or pore over today's newspaper. Much like Jim, your entry into the room goes unnoticed save for a pair of emerald eyes that you can’t help but glance toward.

Melissa is already looking back at you over the rim of her glasses, phone in hand, the slight frown on her features already telling you that she’s noticed the lack of energy you carry. You can’t help but be drawn toward her, almost as if being pulled in by an imaginary force. She’s already pulled the empty chair by her side out by the time you reach her, and you collapse down on to it, sighing heavily, leaning your elbows forward onto the cold surface of the table in front of you for support.

“Choir practice really that bad today, huh?” she asks, sympathy laced across her face.

“I swear, these kids are turning me grey even faster,” you groan, bringing your hands up to cradle your forehead, “I mean, seriously, how hard is it to get through ‘Silent Night’ without laughing at the word ‘virgin’?”

The silence that comes from the redhead is deafening as you turn your head slightly in your hands to catch a glimpse of her expression. Her lips are pursed slightly, and her eyes are a little too focused on your hair, doing everything she can to avoid eye contact; a telltale sign that she’s fighting back a laugh. When she finally reaches enough composure to meet your eye line, she can’t help but snicker.

The sound makes you take your head out of your hands and throw her the most unimpressed look you can muster, though it’s a halfhearted glare.

“I’m sorry,” she begins to apologize, “but that word was probably the funniest thing ever when I was that age too. Cut them a little bit of slack.”

Great, so not only do your students think you’re a ‘nerd’ for making them sing carols but Melissa does too. Because having the woman you have an enormous crush on think that is exactly what you needed to round out your year. Almost as if she can sense your descent into overthinking, Melissa breaks the silence.

“Hey, I’m just messing with ya,” she says. She reaches forward, pulling you out of your spiral, and rests her hand on the thigh that sits closest to you, patting gently. “Besides, you’re cute when you’re grumpy.”

Your eyes dart to hers at the comment and you’re met with a wink. The simple move turns you into putty, melting you to bend to her will. Her hand burns through the material of your slacks where it still lays against your thigh, her thumb rubbing gentle circles in an effort to soothe you. You’re sure your face is matching that same level of heat that radiates from it.

She smiles back softly before turning back to her phone, leaving her hand resting against the patterned material you wear. The contact grounds you and helps you to think a little more rationally. While she’s distracted on her phone, you reach forward onto the table to grab Melissa’s worn Stanley Tucci mug and steal a swig of the steaming black coffee that sits within. The harsh flavor makes you wince, with you preferring your coffee with milk and an obscene amount of sugar to make it even barely drinkable. The expression you wear causes Melissa to giggle, the redhead having looked up almost knowing that your face would be a picture of extreme disgust.

As she laughs the hand on your thigh squeezes and she leans into you, the lines around her eyes accentuated by the deep laugh that’s taken over her being. You decide that this is the most beautiful version of Melissa you’ve ever seen. Carefree, happy, and relaxed.

The moment comes to an abrupt end as Barbara enters the room, both you and Melissa turning to the creaking door as it opens. Her eyes naturally fall to your table, much as your own do when you enter the teachers’ lounge, and her gaze lingers on you before she speaks up, barely giving herself a chance to sit down.

“Oh sweetheart, you look terrible,” she says, concern laced across her features. She’s not wrong. You know the bags under your eyes are worse than ever, having forgone sleep to choose which Christmas carols are least likely to make a room full of elementary schoolers insult you. You wish you had just chosen to sleep instead because every option you threw at your group of angels ended with nicknames being thrown right back at you.

“See, I told you that you looked bad,” Melissa says, the playful glint in her eye accompanied with the squeeze of your thigh letting you know she’s kidding.

“You look like you need this Christmas break,” Barbara adds, “Actually, why don’t you come to the little shindig Melissa and I have here on the last day? Get that break started early for you.”

It’s worrying how quickly you accept the invitation but Melissa’s hand on your thigh paired with the musky smell of her perfume makes it impossible to decline.

“Of course, I’ll come! Do I need to bring anything?” You ask.

“Nothing at all, we’ve got it all covered,” the older teacher replies. “Just bring your dancing shoes.”

You’ve visibly relaxed at the prospect, which doesn’t go unnoticed by your company. While you’re distracted taking another, albeit smug, sip of Melissa’s coffee, Barbara shoots the redhead a knowing look, quirking her eyebrow as she does so. For a split second, Melissa turns the same shade of red as her hair, caught out by Barb and the confession of a pretty obvious crush she gave a few weeks ago. She quickly manages to regain her composure, hand still resting on your thigh and phone still in hand.

You would think that a full week later, after hours of Christmas songs later, that you would be sick of carols. But you still find yourself sitting in the teachers’ lounge long after the rest of the faculty has left the building on the final day of school before winter break, with your usual duo and the addition of Mr Johnson. The room is filled with a warmth that doesn’t just come from the school’s subpar heating system, but instead from the situation you find yourself in.

You feel a slight buzz from the copious amounts of wine you’ve consumed since the end of the school day, your stomach lined with Melissa’s incredible cooking and sweet treats brought in by Barbara. You feel that Mr Johnson is in the same boat as you as he mills around the room, plastic cup filled with what you can only assume is even more wine, swaying by himself to the record that plays from the relic of a radio that sits on one of the many cabinets in the room.

Your attention is immediately drawn elsewhere when Melissa’s cackle fills the room, her and Barb sharing stories that they’ve no doubt already told each other a few dozen times over the years. You completely miss the anecdote, but you still can’t help a smile from breaking out on your face at the sound of laughter, the noise acting like music to your ears – it’s far better than anything that could possibly be played on that radio right now.

Almost as if by cue, the pair finish their story and the older of the two decides to rise from her chair, beckoning to you as she does so.

“Come on, I wanna start to shake my groove thing,” says Barbara, already swaying slightly from the few glasses of wine she’s consumed herself. You raise your eyebrows, incredulous, matching her action and standing from your chair yourself, moving further from the security of the table as a swing version of “Jingle Bell Rock” continues playing. “I need a dance partner and you’re the perfect height so get yourself over here.”

She doesn’t give you a chance to respond before her hands quickly mold you into shape, moving one of your own to her hip whilst the other grips your open palm.

“Wow Barb, at least buy a girl a drink first,” you grin as she swats at your shoulder, giggling along herself. The bells on the front of her extremely festive bright red sweater jingle as she does so. The swaying of your ‘dance’ lasts for a mere few seconds before Barbara interrupts it herself.

“Melissa, I think we may need to swap places,” she says as she glances at where Mr Johnson stands, eyes still closed and nursing his plastic cup of wine. “I have a feeling Mr Johnson may need some assistance.”

Melissa mumbles her response as she comes nearer to you, seamlessly swapping places with the elder woman. You completely miss the wink that is thrown her way from Barb, eyes still focused on Mr Johnson’s one-man party.

When you turn your head back to face in front of you, you’re naturally drawn to the bright green eyes that sit slightly below your eyeline. You feel your heart stutter in your chest at the sight, rarely getting to see them this close. It always baffles you how many shades of green, blue and brown come together to create a colour that can only be described as ‘Melissa’. You realize you’ve been staring a little too long when a change of song and her words break you from your thoughts.

“Come a little closer, you can’t dance properly if you leave enough room for Jesus and the 12 disciples,” she says, her tone playful and smile wide. You can’t help but throw your head back in laughter as her hand snakes from your hip to the small of your back to bring you in closer. There's no mistaking who is leading who.

When you bring your head back Melissa is considerably closer than before. She’s so close that you can see each individual eyelash under her thick layer of mascara and eyeliner, along with the slightly smudged edge of her lipstick, the deep red of the wine making the colour even richer. The smell of her musky yet floral perfume invades your senses as she looks up toward you. You move your hands from her shoulders to link together behind her neck, her red curls tickling your wrists.

You can feel every slight movement she makes as Frank Sinatra croons at you both as you sway slightly in place, too scared to move too quickly in case you scare each other. Her thighs almost touch yours and your chests are almost entirely pressed together. You hope she can’t feel your heartbeat; the speed and intensity of it would almost instantly give away your feelings toward her. Her body this close to yours makes your head spin, your mind racing with possibilities of other situations you may find yourself this close to her in.

You can feel every breath she lets out against your lips, making you aware of how little it would take to connect them with her own. You’re pretty sure she’s noticed too because of the way her eyes keep flicking down to look at them every few seconds. You can feel her hands burning a hole through the material of the shirt against your back. As if she can hear your thoughts, she moves them slightly lower, coming to rest against the waistband of your trousers and dangerously close to your backside. What you wouldn’t give for her to just bite the bullet and slide them into your back pockets to pull you impossibly closer to her.

“You know, I, uh, never wished you a happy Christmas,” she breaks the tense silence, almost whispering as if anything too loud might startle you. “So Happy Christmas, Hun.”

She wears a slight smile on her lips, suddenly dropping the hard exterior she always carries to become the softer, more vulnerable version of herself you’ve come to fall madly in love with.

You can’t help but melt at the sight, your head dropping forward to lean your forehead against hers. She welcomes the move with ease, closing her eyes as you both sway slightly to the music, never moving from your position.

“Happy Christmas, Mel.”

#abbott elementary #lisa ann walter #reader fanfic #self insert #fluff #writing #wlw #reader fic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti fanfic #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti self insert #melissa schemmenti x y/n #melissa schemmenti fluff #lisa ann walter fanfic #lisa ann walter x reader

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haddonfieldwhore · 7 months

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lowkey - damian priest

damian priest x gn!reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: langauge, drinking, implied nsfw, readers age isn’t specified but i wrote this as if they’re around rheas age so age gap warning just in case, scripted violence

after it being teased for the last few weeks on raw, you were finally going to be moving from nxt to the main roster and joining the judgment day, arguably the most powerful group in the wwe today. you were more than excited, considering that you would be in a group with your best friend rhea, as well as just some really cool, talented people. you had been friends with rhea since middle school, and had only met the guys in the group a handful of times, but you could already tell you were going to fit in well. however that didn’t mean you weren’t nervous to be making your main roster debut, tugging awkwardly at your ring gear as you stood with rhea in gorilla.

“you’re gonna do great, salem,” rhea smiled, using your ring name. your gear matched the judgment day colour scheme, black and purple with lots of chains and studs on your ring jacket. the judgement day would be going out first, and then kevin, sami, and jey would pick off the boys, and raquel would attack rhea. all you had to do was run out there and help rhea; easy enough right?

things were going smoothly, rhea and the boys wishing you luck as they passed by you on the way to the ring. damian patted you on the shoulder, and you looked up at the man who towered over you, like you were sure he did most people, standing at six foot five. you had to admit, he was incredibly handsome, his long hair and dark eyes suiting his features perfectly.

“you’re gonna do great,” he smiled, and you nodded, thankful that they all seemed to accept you into the group already.

“thanks. i’ll see you out there,” you smiled, and he gave you a fist bump with his massive hand, and headed out with the others. even though you were on opposite teams in the ring, even kevin, sami, and jey wished you luck as they passed through gorilla, as did raquel.

it felt like only 3 seconds had gone by, when in reality it had been about 2 minutes before your music kicked in, “the witching hour” by in this moment blared through the arena as one of the backstage crew members gave you your que to head down the ramp. you ran out, your anxiety not letting you look at the amount of people in the crowd as you got to the ring and slid under the bottoms rope, pulling raquel off of rhea. the two of you attacked her and chased her out of the ring, leaving just you and rhea standing there. you looked at eachother, and rhea made it seem for a second that she was going to attack you, but instead extended a hand for you to shake. you took her hand in yours, and the rest of the judgment day, who had also scared off their opponents, joined you in the ring. the moment finally sank in, and you looked at the thousands of people in the crowd, and your heart pounded in your chest, the judgment day music loud in your ears as you all exited the ring and headed up the ramp, damian and finn on either side of you with their arms over your shoulders.

once you had made it backstage, rhea stole you out of their grip, wrapping her arms around you in a hug and spinning you around, causing both of you to laugh.

“you killed it! that was great!” she yelled, and the guys agreed.

“how do you feel?” finn asked, and you took a deep breath as rhea set you back on your feet.

“i feel great! i would have been a lot more nervous if you guys weren’t out there with me, so thank you,” you admitted.

“no problem. we’re like a family, and now you’re a part of it too,” dominik said, and appreciated it more than you could say.

“priest, i think you know what time it is,” rhea smirked evilly. “it’s time to show salem how the judgment day parties.”

“say less,” damian laughed, throwing an arm over your shoulder again as they all led you out through backstage, a handful of superstars congratulating you on your debut, before you got to your cars and left the venue. you and rhea were in her car together while the guys were in another, and as much as you already loved them, you were happy to have a moment with your best friend.

rhea passed you the aux chord and you turned on ‘cyberhex’ by motionless in white, and she nodded in approval.

“so now that it’s just us, how are you feeling after your main roster debut?”

“it was amazing. i have to admit, i am a little overwhelmed, since you and the guys are such an established group, but i’m also so grateful to be joining the judgment day. i just hope they like me,” you answered.

“you mean the fans or the boys?”

“both, but i meant the boys. they all seem really cool, i don’t want to intrude on the group, you know?”

“i get it. but they love you already. if they didn’t you would know,” she laughed, and you felt slightly relieved.

“thanks rhea.”

“no problem. you have your ‘initiation’ match next week, right? against raquel?”

“yeah. i can’t believe my first solos match on raw is against her,” you said; raquel wasn’t someone that would go down without a fight.

“you can do this. i know you can, and the rest of the judgment day knows you can too,” she said, parking her car as you had arrived at the hotel.

•••

one thing was for sure; the judgment day knew how to throw a party. it had been non stop celebrations for about 4 hours when you all calmed down and decided to put on a movie. there was only a small couch and an arm chair in the hotel room you were currently in, which was finn’s room. he was in the chair, you, damian, and rhea sat on the couch, and dom was sitting on the floor in front of rhea, who occasionally played with his hair. you knew the romance between them was just a storyline, but their real life friendship was adorable. you were starting to get sleepy as it was nearing three am, and you were cuddled under a blanket from your suitcase, since the a/c in the hotel room was giving you goosebumps, and you could feel your eyes getting heavy.

as damian shifted next to you, his hand bumped against your thigh, and he muttered a soft apology under his breath. the small amount of alcohol in your system gave you some extra confidence, you took his hand in yours under the blanket and placed it back on your thigh without saying anything, your hand over his to keep it there. he shifted again so his leg was against yours, and you cuddled into his side, resting your head on his shoulder as you let yourself fall asleep.

damian shook you awake gently a little while later, and pointed to rhea and dominik asleep in the one bed, and finn passed out in the other.

“i’ll walk you to your room, unless you wanna sleep on the couch,” damian offered quietly, as not to wake anyone up. he stood up first, pulling you up off the couch by your hand, and you grabbed your bag. it wasn’t until you got into the hallway and the door locked behind you that you realized rhea had the key card to your room.

“fuck,” you mumbled, and damian turned around.

“what’s wrong?”

“rhea has the key to our room,” you replied, feeling like an idiot.

“c’mon, you can stay in my room,” he laughed at you pouting, and started walking down the hallway. when he noticed you weren’t following him, he looked back. “no funny business i promise.” you rolled your eyes playfully, but hurried after him as he led you to his room.

“what if i want there to be?” you asked quietly, as you’d caught up to him. damian looked down at you, a little surprised, before placing his hand on your lower back and pushing you gently.

“then walk faster,” he mumbled, and you smiled as you finally reached his room. he unlocked the door and let you go in first, and you noticed that there was two beds. “did you enjoy your welcome party?” damian asked, and you smiled.

“definitely. rhea wasn’t kidding when she said you guys knew how to party,” you smiled, turning towards him.

“party doesn’t have to be over, if you don’t want it to be,” he said, his voice low as he stepped closer.

“what did you have in mind?” you asked, smiling as you felt his hands rest on your waist, pulling you against him. he leaned down to kiss you deeply, and your hands rested on his chest, his arms circling around you. damian backed you up until your legs hit the end of the bed and you sat down. he backed away, staring down at you.

“are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, and you nodded, your head surprisingly clear after the few drinks you’d had; the nap had sobered you up a surprising amount. you slid off the bed and dropped to your knees in front of him, your hands resting on his thighs.

“i want to,” you assured him, and his head fell backwards as your hand slid over the front of his jeans.

“fuck,” his voice was deep as your hands fought over the buckle of his belt, damian eventually letting you undo it as his hands cradled either side of your head. “this has to stay a secret for now, okay?”

“i know,” you smiled. “it’s kinda more fun that way, isn’t it?” you asked.

“you keep surprising me,” he shook his head.

“is that a bad thing?” you asked, undoing the button on his jeans after successfully undoing his belt, and sliding the zipper down.

“definitely not.”

•••

you woke up to the feeling of someone trailing gentle kisses over your shoulder and up the side of your neck, and you murmured softly at the sensation, tickling slightly.

“good morning,” damian’s deep voice mumbled next to your ear, somehow even deeper than usual after just waking up. your legs were tangled beneath the covers, the white hotel duvet the only thing covering your bodies other than the purple love bites that were scattered across your skin.

“good morning,” you smiled, your eyes fluttering open as you rolled over to look at him.

“it’s only nine so i don’t think the others will be awake yet if we want to sneak downstairs before they wonder where we are,” he offered.

“rhea’s gonna figure out that i didn’t sleep in our room eventually. i’ll just tell her i slept in the extra bed. i have to say - this was kind of out of character for me; i don’t think she’ll expect anything as long as you cover those,” you smiled, poking one of the bite marks you had left on his shoulder.

“can do. as long as you hide those,” he pointed to the hickeys on your neck, and you laughed.

“deal. i do want breakfast though, so yes; we can head downstairs.”

“sounds good. you can shower first if you want,” he offered, and you smirked.

“you could join me.” you had no idea where your sudden boost of confidence was coming from, but you felt comfortable with him considering you barely knew him.

“i don’t know how productive that’s gonna be…” he trailed off, kissing your lips.

“is that a no?”

“that’s not what i said,” he smirked, and pulled the covers off of your bodies, dragging you towards the shower.

#damian priest #damian priest fic #damian priest x reader #damian priest imagine #wwe #wwe fic #the judgement day x reader #rhea ripley

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bizarre-blorbo-bracket · 4 months

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FINAL for real this time: Davis (Juror 8) from Twelve Angry Men vs the Bimodal Distribution from statistics

Propaganda under the cut, and it's REALLY worth it:

Davis (Juror 8) (these are all from the single submitter)

a quick lil list babes, and I apologise for all of this in advance:

He's from the fucking film 12 angry men. like, aside from letterbox bootlickers and middle school hass students NO ONE has watched this film let alone care about it, it was made in 1957, is shot almost exclusively in one room and the entire film is just middle aged white men yelling at each other over whether some not white poor kid should be sent to the electric chair. what the fuck.

Henry Fonda, the actor, was 52 years old at the time of filming

Henry Fonda is the father of Jane Fonda, the woman who would revolutionise the 80's with her home workouts and her blindingly neon leg warmers.

His name wasn't revealed until the very end of the film and even then it's just "Davis."

I could honestly give him a lil smooch

He's absolutely not girlypop but he's the ally-iest ally who's ever allied

He's categorised as a "Benevolent Leader" on the Heroes Wiki

instead of the overwhelming urge for me to coddle him like most all other blorbos, i would appreciate it switched

I have a photo of him inside my saxophone case and sometimes i forget he's in there, then he creeps into my saxophone bell and when I play it he shoots out like a ballistic missile

Dude, on ao3 there's more fanfiction about the real life 80's British punk band The Clash than the entire film of 12 angry men, let alone Davis (80 fics come up under the clash, while 10 come up for 12 angry men)

I have a counter, and I've watched 12 Angry men a total of 145 times. The figure is up on my wall in tallies. whenever the number goes up, I like to watch it in 5's so then I can put another full group of tallies on my wall.

I have incredibly detailed stories about how Davis would boogie down to ringo starr's solo career, and they're written within the margins of a book called Tobruk written by Peter Fitzsimons. The only reason I reread that book is to wonder at my elaborate works of fiction

My HASS teacher was the one to introduce me to 12 Angry Men as he played it for the entire class. He gave us a set of questions to complete on the film and a few Law based questions as a little treat, and he expected it to be handed in the next day. What he didn't expect was an 11 page monster of a response that included social commentary, 4 paragraphs dissecting the character of Davis alone, deeply discussed comparisons between the landscapes of politics and law in the 50's to the present, and basically an entire point-for-point summarisation of the film, completed with obscure quotes from Truman, Eisenhower, Nixon and Presley (Elvis). He presented the printed masterpiece in front of the entire class to shame me.

After class he explained how his favourite Juror would either be 6 or 5, because 6 seems like a big dumb teddybear and he just liked 5. I explained how I liked Davis because he didn't want to send a kid to die, then he told me how Davis would make a good cowboy (at this point in time I was unaware of Henry Fonda's role in Once Upon A Time in The West) and I proceeded to go home and write a 3 part orchestral composition that I could pretend would play as the soundtrack to Juror 8: A Cowboy's Tale or something like that

I had started to make an animation meme starring Davis but only gave up when photoshop literally deleted itself from my laptop

I didn't even hear that Juror 8's name was Davis when I first watched it in class, somehow I only heard it on my 6th rewatch but when I did I literally got so excited I literally got winded and cried a little bit, I had to take a panadol because I got so lightheaded

I have learned the musical motif that plays throughout the film on saxophone, clarinet, recorder, guitar, bass, ukulele, piano and trumpet

I have visions of him

One of Davis' 3 children HAS to be gay and nothing can convince me otherwise

honest to god I'd be a home wrecker if it came to him

I quote not only Davis but the film a lot, and sometimes in the dead silence of all my friends I go on about how the old man couldn't have possibly made it to the door in such a short amount of time to see the kid running down the stairs (because the old man has a limp, and Davis proved it my limping around the room, which I have to say was incredibly attractive of him)

He's literally an architect

I once had a dream where Davis was in my bass guitar case when I opened it, and i literally just picked him up and started picking him like a bass guitar until I tried to play a full chord and he bit the hand that was meant to be on the fretboard. I dropped him and he fell on his ass, and when I said "what the hell dude what was that for" he said bass chords are lowkey ugly to listen to, and since then i don't like playing bass chords because now they're lowkey ugly to listen to. before this ordeal, i enjoyed them, but alas

i once got my romantic partner to write me a davis x reader fanfiction as a birthday present

my parents believe that Davis is my first celebrity crush, and while they're actually wrong it's still actually so embarrassing they believe that because OH MY GOD it's literally JUROR 8 FROM 12 ANGRY MEN

I've attempted slam poetry about him

I've eaten a paper printed full a4 size photo of his hand

I would also not mind him to be literally my father, but given the rest of the things I've just said about him that's really weird and I recognise that

the Bimodal Distribution

First of all, it's a math concept. that is already pretty bizarre of a thing to be blorbo-ifying. Second of all, I don't know any calculus, and I don't consider myself a math person (because I hate arithmetic), but I really like this guy for some reason. I mean this graph clearly holds the secrets of the universe. don't you just want to l o o k at it . like you could solve everything in the world with that boy

#bimodal distribution #davis #juror 8 #12 angry men #final

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blossomwritesthings · 1 year

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𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝? 𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞. | 𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬

pairing: minho x fem!reader (afab)

genre: veterinarian!minho (this includes a few of the skz members working in his clinic). client!reader. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. strangers to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining.

content & warnings: explicit & strong language. very thematic elements. minho is reader's vet. reader's childhood cat suddenly gets diagnosed with cancer, and she has to make a big decision about what to do. this fanfic includes heavy topics like: pet euthanasia, extreme loss/grief, depression, the problems with pet healthcare, and more. there will be some humor/fluff placed throughout, and also smut somewhere along the way. :))

word count: 7.1k

summary: dr. lee minho is known throughout your area as the city's hottest veterinarian, and he's also the very man that's been taking good care of your two cats for the past three years. but one day, you're thrown down a dark path of heartache when the cat that you've grown up with - nyx - is diagnosed with an acute form of bone cancer. burdened with the hardest decision of your entire life, you come at a crossroads of what to do. and throughout it all, minho is the single most person who continually stays by your side.

a/n: i decided to split this fic up into like, 3-4 separate chapters, since i felt like having 20.k+ words for a single 'long oneshot' was kindaa excessive lmao 😂 anyways, i'm excited for the future of this little series and what it's gonna look like exploring the relationship between minho and y/n~ 😉 also, for anyone that noticed, YES- i changed my entire tumblr theme after like, 4 months of having it be rainbow haha, so you might not recognize me on your dash with my new look. but yeah, this is the 'new me' for the next few months... i was feeling super inspired to do a muted levanter theme, since it's one of my fav albums/songs from skz haha so here we are!! ☺️

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

The clinic was incredibly busy as you stepped through the front doors. Looking around the medium-sized waiting room, you noticed how almost every single seat was taken up by a patient. Because apparently, the hot place to be on a Thursday morning was Starry Skies Veterinary Clinic.

You clutched on a little tighter to the carrier at your side, which held your cat Nyx just inside the bassinet. She was an American Shorthair, with a coat as black as midnight and big, ocean-blue eyes. Your parents had gifted you Nyx as a surprise for your sixth birthday, since you had been begging them for a cat all year long. And instantly, the two of you were inseparable. Nyx had been with you for almost every stage of your life - including grade/middle school, high school, and all of university. She was so incredibly affectionate towards everyone, but especially you. She loved curling up alongside you after you’d spent a long, hard day at work and would just cuddle into your skin for hours.

Nyx was your stability in everything - she was one of your only friends, even when you were surrounded by other adults your same age at work. And at the ripe age of twenty-four, you couldn’t imagine what your life would be like if she ever left your side.

But, you weren’t naive, or stupid.

And you knew that at some point, Nyx would have to move on from your world and onto a better, and brighter future.

Which is why you decided to adopt a female Bengal cat after you graduated from university. Taffy had a brilliant orange-and-brown coat with light green eyes. And because she was so much younger than Nyx, she had a lot more energy. But even still, the two cats got along quite well, despite their huge age gap. Taffy was the troublemaker out of the two and liked to get into mischief with all kinds of things.

You took great pride in both of them and the relationship that you had with your two kitties, which is why you regularly took them to the local veterinarian clinic for routine checkups. Usually, you visited every six months, just to make sure that Taffy and Nyx were in perfect health.

And it’s not like you were complaining about the visits to Starry Skies Veterinary Clinic. It was a beautiful and spacious place, with a friendly bunch of staff and an even better doctor.

Doctor Lee Minho had been the continual talk of the town since he had moved into the area three years before, and soon after he set up his practice - which was just a short walk from your quaint apartment - you started going to him for your cat’s regular check-ups. Dr. Lee was incredibly professional with all of his clients, and he had a true knack for animals… but especially, cats. That’s what he prided himself on - knowing the ins and outs of the feisty little beings... since he had three of his own. Some even said that he was a cat himself since he had similar mannerisms to the felines.

It also helped that he was insanely handsome.

Like, drop-dead gorgeous.

You weren’t a fool - you noticed how, every time you visited the clinic, most of the clients were women. And almost every time that you sat in the waiting room, you’d overhear women talking amongst themselves… about how they had dressed up for the occasion, and how Dr. Lee was way too cute for his good.

For the most part, all of the comments passed over your head.

After all, he was just a veterinarian. He wasn’t anything special…

He just took amazing care of the animals that visited his clinic.

And he seemed to adore your two cats.

And-

Perhaps he was kind of, sort of, attractive.

If a woman liked the silent, brooding, brown-haired types of guys- then yeah, he was fucking really hot.

But, you always tried to push those thoughts out of your mind each time they started to bubble up to the forefront of your mind. You didn’t want to ruin the professional doctor-client relationship that the two of you had been cultivating for over three years. He was an amazing veterinarian with a lot of skill and expertise, and you had a feeling that you taking advantage of your closeness with him, by forcing yourself onto him, would just turn him away.

After all, he was always professional and polite with you. Even if he seemed to give you a lot of smiles and laughs each time you had an appointment at the clinic. And even if he seemed overly affectionate with Nyx and Taffy. He was just doing his job, as that’s what was to be expected from a doctor like him.

And besides, a guy like him would never go for you. For starters, you had just recently found out that he was five years older than you, landing him at the mature age of twenty-nine. And older guys of that many years never went for you - never stooped that low. Plus, he was a successful doctor and a businessman with his clinic. Whereas you were a struggling woman who was fighting to make ends meet at her low-ranking corporate job. You sat in a small cubicle all day, typing away at a bright computer screen, and Dr. Lee sat in front of patients and animals, actually making a difference in others’ lives.

There was also the fact that you were borderline poor- since your job barely paid anything compared to the way that the economy was so expensive. You struggled to pay your bills monthly and lived from paycheck to paycheck. Meanwhile, Dr. Lee rolled up to the clinic in his dark-blue sports car and was always donned in all different kinds of designer dress shirts and slacks.

So, yeah, he’d never fall for you. Not in a million years.

“Y/N! Good to see you again!” You heard a bright voice call out to you, bringing you out of your daydreams of expensive cars and fancy clothes.

Your eyes flitted up to the person sitting behind the front check-in desk of the clinic. Chan, one of the two receptionists of the place, was looking up at you with a soft smile adorning his face.

“Oh- hi, Chan… I’m here for Nyx’s check-up.” You mimicked his smile, motioning with a tilt of your head to the carrier where Nyx was situated in.

You were on a first-name basis with the entire staff line of the clinic, as you had been visiting it for so many years. Everyone at the clinic was extremely nice, and all of the staff were Dr. Lee’s friends. Soon after you first visited the clinic, he told you about the story of how he had recruited some of his best friends to open the shop with him, and how the rest was history. Even still, you called everyone by their first name except for Dr. Lee - since you decided to keep it professional with him and always address him by his official title well into the beginning of your appointments at the clinic.

“Sure thing,” Chan began, tearing his gaze away from you and typing away at his computer. “I see here that Jisung jotted down your concerns for this visit’s file. Has anything changed since you called in a month ago?”

You moved your focus onto the carrier at your side, where you saw Nyx resting peacefully just inside it. She had long since gotten used to the clinic and was normally very calm whenever you visited the place. “Yeah, she’s been sleepier than usual, and like- she doesn’t want to eat the food that I’ve been giving her, even though I’ve changed the brand two times already.”

Chan’s eyes darted up to you, studying your face silently before they flitted over to the carrier that you had placed atop the counter at your side. “Okay, I’ll add all of that to the notes so that the doctor can take a look,” you noticed how his lips were pressed together in a grim line- like he didn’t like what you had just told him. “You can take a seat, and Yongbok will call you back when they’re ready for you guys.”

“Thanks, Chan,” you said, offering him a tiny, weak smile before you headed off to find one of the only available seats left in the waiting room. As soon as you got situated, you gingerly took Nyx out of her crate. She was warm and downy in your hands and purred quietly at the feel of you pressing her furry body against your chest. “It’s gonna be okay, girl, you’ll be alright…” You whispered to her, mouth nuzzling into her silky coat as you placed a gentle kiss against her head.

After you placed Nyx back in her crate, you spent the waiting time studying the people around you. Once again, it was mainly women’s faces that your eyes met as you scanned over the entire room. And there were all different types of pets everywhere, from dogs to cats to birds.

“Oh, and apparently, Jungmi’s friend saw him out on the streets late at night last week… like, all alone and stuff.” You heard the woman say beside you. She was sitting close to another woman, and their heads were bent at an angle as they gossiped together. “Some girl came out of this one cafe and was hanging all over him, but it didn't seem like he knew her that well.”

The other woman snorted lowly, “Well that bitch doesn’t matter, because I’m going to be sure to seduce him this time around. I mean, c’mon- who can resist this shirt?” At her insinuation, you realized that they were talking about Dr. Lee.

Even still, you felt the urge to peek over to your side and look at her attire, and when you did, you swallowed down the dryness in your throat. Because holy fuck- she looked like she was about to go to the club. Her shirt had a scoop neckline and was so low, more than half of her tits were hanging out of the loose fabric. It was tight and stretched over her bosom in an alluring kind of way, leaving little to the imagination.

Meanwhile, you were dressed in one of your old, baggy hoodies and a pair of loose-fitting denim jeans. Even though it was the beginning of spring, it was still quite chilly out early in the morning. And besides, you weren’t planning on going anywhere else after you visited the clinic, since you had taken the rest of the day off from work, so there was no use in dressing up. Not like you had any nice, sexy clothes like that to begin with, though.

In all actuality, you really couldn’t afford to take a day off of work. But, you felt like it was needed after the long week that you had had. After the long year you had had.

Suddenly feeling self-conscious while you sat next to Aphrodite herself, your fingers scrambled to yank down the arms of your hoodie as best as you could, trying to let the fabric swallow you up in your seat.

Just then, your name was called over the hustle and bustle of the waiting room, and you peered up to see a smiling Yongbok standing in the doorway that lead to the rest of the clinic - where the examining rooms were.

In a hurry, you scrambled to pick up your tote bag and hoisted Nyx in her carrier with one arm, following right behind the young vet tech as he lead you through the back rooms of the clinic. The hallway was buzzing with movement, as the other Tech’s, Seungmin and Hyunjin, helped vet assistant Changbin calm down a barking German Shepherd so that they could usher him onto a weighing station that was positioned in a corner of the hallway. Dr. Lee was nowhere to be found… yet.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Yongbok started, as he motioned to an examining room just off to the right side for you to walk in. You took a seat in the chair that was positioned next to the desk - where the doctor always sat. “Since Hyunjin is almost always the one who first greets you.” The younger man with light blonde hair and big, expressive eyes sighed in an exaggerated kind of way, which forced a quiet giggle out of you.

“He’s a good tech though… Taffy especially likes him, I think.” You started, your mind already trailing off to what your younger cat might be doing while being left home alone in your apartment. No doubt tearing into the bag of chips that you had accidentally left atop the kitchen counter.

“Mhm- how is she, by the way? I feel like you haven’t brought her in in a while,” Yongbok said, as he slipped on a pair of blue latex gloves. You dragged your eyes away from his form and instead concentrated on unzipping the carrier in your arms, slowly drawing out a lethargic Nyx.

“Taffy is good, just being her usual rambunctious self,” you laughed softly, shaking your head as the affection for your other cat took over your thoughts. “She’s definitely very different from my Nyx here, that’s for sure…”

Yongok wheeled his chair over to you then, gently taking your old cat from your hands and hoisting her up onto the examination table that was nearby. “I saw in the files that she’s been having problems with eating?” He started, voice growing serious as he began his study of your cat.

You nodded slowly, swallowing over the nervous lump that had begun to form in your throat as soon as he placed Nyx on the paper-lined table. You felt your heart beating wildly against your ribcage, and you watched in silence as Yongbok turned Nyx around to thoroughly examine her. “Yeah, and she hasn’t been wanting to play with Taffy either, even though she used to love to.”

“How long has this been going on?”

“About… four months now?”

Yongbok turned to you then, leveling you with a deep frown, “And you’re only bringing her in now?” His tone wasn’t accusatory, but was more on the perplexed side of things, as all of the staff at Starry Skies Veterinary Clinic knew how much you loved your cats and how you adored taking care of them.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, hating the way that he seemed to question why you hadn’t taken care of Nyx’s symptoms earlier. “I-I didn’t have the money for this appointment until just recently, so that’s why I'm only bringing her in now.”

Your gaze snagged on Yongbok’s face, and the way that it instantly melted at your confession... brows furrowing and mouth pressing into a velvety line. The entire clinic must’ve known about your financial situation by now - about how you could barely afford food for yourself, let alone the bills from the clinic - since more oftentimes than not, you’d ask for a grace period from paying for the visits.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I wasn’t trying to insinuate that you’re in the wrong here,” he began, but his slight frown only seemed to deepen as he spoke the words, “It’s just that- these symptoms shouldn’t be ignored for that long.”

At that, your heart started beating frantically inside your chest. Your focus landed on Nyx, who was now resting atop the table, with her eyes closed peacefully. “W-What? What do you mean by that? Is something wrong-”

Yongbok reached over then, giving your shoulder a delicate pat. “I can’t confirm anything myself, but I’m going to take Nyx back to the X-Ray rooms to examine her better. Then, I’ll give the data to Dr. Lee and he can examine the diagnosis.” He gingerly scooped up Nyx into his arms, pressing her against his chest.

“O-Okay, but-” You began, but were soon cut off by the way that Yongbok gave you a slight, reassuring smile.

“Don’t worry about it, Y/N. I’m sure Nyx is just fine.” Is the last thing he said, before he was quickly filing out of the room with your cat in his hold, leaving you all alone.

And as soon as he shut the door closed, you were a nervous wreck. Your knees bounced up and down, hands turning clammy and breath falling out in shaky gasps as your mind raced a mile a minute with countless thoughts.

Would Nyx be okay?

Was she sick?

What was so wrong with her?

The wait time to see the doctor usually wasn’t that long, but this time - this time, it felt different.

It felt like each minute stretched out before you in an endless cycle, sending you down a deep and deeper spiral of anguish as you tried to wrack your brain around the entire situation.

When finally, there was a gentle knock on the door.

You had been holding your head in either of your hands, but upon hearing footsteps against the linoleum floors, you peered up to see Dr. Lee closing the door behind him. He was dressed in his usual garb - dress slacks, a simple white button-down, and his white doctor's coat.

Dr. Lee was silent, as he wheeled his chair over to you. And only then did you notice that Nyx was missing. That he wasn’t carrying her in his arms- like he usually did when he brought her back from the closed examination room.

And you knew the moment that he sat down, that something was wrong.

Because usually, when his eyes caught yours as he walked through the examining room’s door, his entire face would light up with one of those brilliant smiles that women gushed over. Usually, he’d be the first one to crack a stupid joke - whether it was something lame about the weather outside, or about the crazy animal that he just had an encounter with before seeing you.

But this time?

No, this time it was very different.

His proud shoulders were slumped low, cheekbones dark with shadows, and plump, red lips pressed together in a firm line.

He clenched and unclenched his jaw once,

twice,

three times.

Then, and only then, did his eyes meet yours.

And they said all you needed to know.

Just by the way that his dark, chestnut-brown pupils danced with a myriad of emotions; apprehension, fear, compassion, but most of all… sadness.

“What is it?”

The words flowed from your lips before you even knew what you were asking, and almost immediately, you were sitting up a little straighter in your chair.

Spine going rigid, fists growing tight at your sides.

Something swam, cool and deep, inside of you.

Chilling you to the bone, with tense unease.

In the depths of your mind, you felt the pinprick of ominous heartache prodding at the fleshy part of your soul.

The part that was weak and emotional and so very tender all of the time.

“I’m so sorry.”

Was the first thing Dr. Lee said.

You already felt the tears flowing, unbidden and unchecked, warming your suddenly freezing cheeks, at the sound of ‘sorry’ leaving his mouth. Because he had never said such a thing to you before. And you never, ever, wanted to hear it come from him again.

“What’s wrong?” You prodded again, limbs growing a little shaky in your anxiety. Breath hitching in your chest agonizingly, you could physically feel your heart pushing against your ribs.

Aching,

Burning,

Already seeping with hurt, even though you didn’t quite know what was wrong just yet.

Dr. Lee ran a rough hand up and down his face, sighing into his palm, shaking his head once. Then, his fingers were running through his black locks, tugging at the roots just a tiny bit.

Almost like, this crushed him just as much as it was about to pain you.

“It’s about Nyx.”

Swallowing over the huge lump forming in your throat proved very difficult at that moment, but somehow - by some miracle - you did it.

Your tongue felt heavy inside of your mouth- like it was made of hard metal.

For a few beats, you couldn’t manage to form the right words, but when you did, you already felt the stability seeping out of you. Like you were a hot air balloon that had been poked with a sharp needle, with the scalding air and sanity flooding from you in a single breath.

“I’m sorry, Miss. Y/N, I-”

“Just fucking say it, Dr. Lee!” You suddenly exclaimed, voice straining from your quiet sobs. The fat tears rolled down either of your cheeks, leaving angry wet trails in their wake.

He was silent after that, gaze running up and down the length of you slowly. Like you were one of his animals that he assessed daily - like he was testing out your strength and resolve.

Then, his eyes snapped back up to meet yours, and they melted into two puddles of grief.

“It seems as though Nyx is suffering from an acute form of bone cancer.”

And just like, your heart completely stopped.

Each breath you took felt garbled and all wrong.

Your shaky legs and arms wobbled all around you.

The floor crumbled underneath your feet,

Breaking, cracking, shattering irrevocably.

And in that moment, you wished for nothing more but for it to open up completely, and swallow you whole.

Please,

Oh, fuck, please-

Just swallow me already.

Because anything,

Anything,

Would be better than this newfound hell.

“No- no, you’re lying.” You said in a low, gravelly voice. You were clutching onto the arms of your chair, holding on for dear life. Like if you squeezed hard enough, you would be able to wake up and all of this would just fade away into a bad dream.

“Miss. Y/N, I’m so sorry but-” Dr. Lee started in a calm tone, but his face read everything but calm - as his brows wrinkled with concern and his brown eyes were alight with a certain kind of sadness.

“This is a bad dream, it has to be a bad dream,” you cut him off, violently shaking your head from side to side in your disbelief. If you just pinched yourself, maybe then you’d wake up from such a hell. So that’s exactly what you did.

Grabbing one of your arms, you frantically pinched at the skin there.

Again,

And again,

And again.

The tears blurred your vision so much that it was hard to see what was in front of you - hard to notice the angry red mark that started to bloom out across your flesh at your abuse.

Just then, two warm hands took hold of either of yours, fingers sliding between fingers, calloused palms squeezing your own.

The dark-haired figure was kneeling in front of you then, still holding onto your hands. Your heart felt like it was breaking over and over just beneath your ribcage. With each breath that you took, a new piece of it shattered off to swim in the blood flowing through your veins.

“Those symptoms that Nyx has been having are all signs of an acute form of bone cancer, Miss. Y/N. And, they will get worse,” the man said, his low, familiar voice running across your ears and nudging at a tender, warm spot deep inside of you.

“B-But she’ll get better, right? You can heal her, right, doctor?” You asked, throat straining from all of the tears. Through your hazy vision, you clutched a little harder at his hands.

There was a pause of silence on his end after that, which only made you feel worse.

When he finally spoke again, it felt like your world merely crumbled further and further. “Yongbok told me about your… situation, and why you didn’t bring her in earlier. But, because of the wait time, the cancer has developed into an acute case. The only options for helping her at this stage are- amputation and chemotherapy.”

It felt like someone took a bucket of ice-cold water and doused your entire form as soon as his words registered in your mind.

Because if you hadn’t waited so long to get it checked out,

If you hadn’t put it off because you didn’t have the money,

If you didn’t have such a low-paying, shitty job,

Then Nyx never would’ve gotten the cancer in the first place.

Instinctually, you ripped your hands out of Dr. Lee’s grasp. It was the first time you had ever had physical contact with him - and the feeling left you feeling both sick to your stomach and also sent anxious butterflies to erupt throughout your system.

“Oh fuck- it’s my fault,” you said in an incredulous tone, fingers digging into your scalp and tearing at your roots there. “If I hadn’t waited so long, she never would’ve gotten this and she wouldn’t be-”

You felt a heavy hand land atop one of your shoulders, nimble fingers pressing into your skin just slightly. Enough to help ground you back to reality. “I know it’s difficult right now, but I promise it’s going to be okay. You just have to take a few deep breaths and-”

“Where is she?” You asked in a low voice, having the sudden urge to hold your baby in your arms. Maybe, if she just felt you, she’d be healed… “Where is my Nyx, Dr. Lee?”

But you didn’t even wait for him to reply, as you tore away from his hold and hurried to the door, grabbing Nyx’s carrier on the way out. Faintly, you registered Dr. Lee calling out to you from behind, but you paid no mind to it and instead ran through the hallway just outside of the examination room.

“Nyx!” You called out, tone turning desperate. You raced down the hallway, sneakers hitting the concrete at your feet. “Nyx!” The tears clouded your vision, so it was hard to see where you going. But even still, you glimpsed Hyunjin coming out from a room in the back of the clinic, with a black mass of fur laying in his arms.

You cried out in relief at the sight of her, and in an instant, you were running forward and scooping her up and into your grasp. Pressing your face into her warm body, you cuddled her close.

“Y/N-” Hyunjin began, sympathy heavy in his tone. You felt his eyes travel across your face as you looked down at your sickly cat, with fat tears falling down your cheeks and a rapidly-beating heart.

“Let’s go home, my sweet girl…” You whispered so that only Nyx could hear you. And you couldn’t help but notice how light she felt in your arms - she hadn’t had much of an appetite in the last few months, and it pained you so much to know that you hadn’t realized it until it was too late.

Then you were turning away from Hyunjin, not even giving him any attention, as you rushed through the hallway and pressed onwards to the front desk area. Faintly, you could hear people calling out your name from somewhere in the back of the clinic.

But you couldn’t concentrate on any of that. All you could think of was your beautiful cat, who was peacefully sleeping in your arms. “Just a little bit longer, Nyx, we’re almost home…”

The rest of the week passed by in a blur of heartache and tears, as you battled with yourself and your mind to try and come to terms with what was happening.

With what you were going to lose.

It was hard to focus on anything else besides the impending doom that seemed to be right on your doorstep. You were slacking off at your work, which caused your boss to ream you out the next Monday morning. But you couldn’t help it - every time you tried to think about anything else besides Nyx, and losing her, the stormy feelings just came back tenfold.

You had found yourself holed up in your office’s bathroom stalls on more than one occasion already, and by the time it hit a week since you had visited the clinic, it felt like all of the tears had been completely drained from your body.

Every time you looked at her, you wanted to cry. You wanted to, but your body just wouldn't let you. So instead, you took to staying up late into the night and researching remedies to alleviate the pain of cancer - because truly, you hadn’t gotten a solid five hours of sleep since the diagnosis.

After two weeks, you had tried all of the solutions that you could find online - that ranged from implementing natural, whole foods into Nyx’s diet to rubbing lavender oil all over her limbs to try and soothe the pain from standing. Seeing her slowly start to deteriorate in front of your very eyes was possibly the worst part about it all - and how she’d whine and cry while walking around the house. Even Taffy could sense that something was wrong when her friend no longer had the energy to play with her anymore.

Throughout all of it, you avoided the phone calls. And they could be from only one ID - since you didn’t have any friends or family members who cared enough about you to call three times a day. Starry Skies Veterinary Clinic called you without fail, and they were adamant about getting in contact. No doubt Chan was on the other line the whole time, trying to talk some sense into you.

But you just couldn’t do it - couldn’t bring yourself to walk through those doors and face the dark road ahead that most-assuredly lead to death. Because you had already extensively researched the therapy for treating Nyx’s kind of cancer, and it was looking quite bleak. The procedures were so fucking expensive, it baffled you how anyone in their right mind could be able to afford such things.

Everything changed though, when on one Saturday night, you arrived home late from running errands and found Nyx sprawled out on your living room’s small, rickety couch. You scurried over to her side and shook her awake. But she wouldn’t open her eyes. And it seemed like she was hardly breathing. You called out to her again and again, startling Taffy of your presence.

When finally, Nyx awoke. After much pleading and crying, she opened her eyes lazily and stretched.

And so it was decided right then and there, that you’d go into the clinic that night.

You couldn’t afford to put it off any longer, and frankly, you had the feeling that Nyx couldn’t either. It was getting close to eight o’clock in the evening, and the clinic closed its doors for the weekend right at eight, so you made quick haste out of your dingy hell-hole-of-an-apartment.

When you arrived at Starry Skies Veterinary Clinic, the entire place was dark. You peeked through the windows and noticed the empty waiting room. “No, no- no…” You muttered to yourself, checking the time on your phone and reading that it was a little past eight.

You quickly looked around the street, noticing how most of the shops were already closed up for the weekend. Feeling the panic rising inside of you, you began to furiously knock on the glass door of the clinic. If someone was back there, maybe you could get ahold of Dr. Lee and-

“Miss. Y/N?” You heard a friendly, faint voice say from somewhere to your side. Turning around to the sound of it, you came face-to-face with Dr. Lee himself. He had his doctor’s coat off and was dressed in his usual work clothes of slacks and a dress shirt. “What are you-”

You pressed your hands against your chest, trying to calm your heart that was painfully beating against your ribcage. “Dr. Lee- please, it’s… it’s Nyx.”

His brown eyes flashed across the length of your form, the fading sunset coloring his skin in an orange and pink kind of glow. “Come inside, it’s too cold out to be standing around like this.” He said, already moving to unlock the front door of the clinic. After all, it was early spring and the nights tended to grow on the cooler side of things once the sun dipped below the horizon.

“Okay, thanks,” you whispered, following behind him as the two of you shifted through the clinic. Dr. Lee made his way over to a cluster of chairs in the corner of the waiting room.

“Please, sit.” He pointed to the nearest chair and waited for you to get situated before taking the seat just beside you. “So, tell me what’s going on.”

And suddenly, you realized the gravity of the situation. You realized that it was just the two of you - Dr. Lee and you - sitting inside the clinic, alone. There weren’t any other clients around, there wasn’t Chan or Jeongin, or Yongbok. And all at once, it felt rather… intimate.

You squirmed in your seat, your shaking hands beginning to play with the worn hemline of your oversized hoodie. Taking a deep breath, you gathered up all of your courage and leveled your gaze on the nearby front desk that was placed in the center of the large waiting room. “Well, I-I got home today from running some errands, and I found Nyx lying on my couch. But it didn’t seem like she was napping like she normally does… and she, she wouldn’t wake up. I kept trying and trying and-” Your words came out all rushed and garbled, as the tears began to crest over your eyes and you felt your cheeks heating with the flush of emotion.

“Hey- hey, it’s okay… don’t push yourself, yeah?” Dr. Lee’s smooth voice did something to the broken part inside of you - caused something to stir and yet settle at the same time. “That must’ve been a very scary experience for you, so it’s understandable that you would be shaken up about it.”

And just like that, the guilt piled on even higher.

Because Dr. Lee had always been incredibly nice to you and your cats. He had always been there for you guys, through the ups and downs of life, and you felt so horrible for ignoring the clinic’s calls. Because you knew that the team at Starry Skies Veterinary Clinic only wanted the very best for you and your cats… and especially, Dr. Lee.

“I’m so sorry for ignoring the clinic’s calls,” you suddenly blurted out, feeling the blush rise and pool in your ears at the feeling of Dr. Lee’s gaze landing on you - assessing your nervous state. Your thumbs continued to fiddle with the fabric at your waist, pulling and pulling. “I-I just didn’t know what to do, and I didn’t want to face the issue. But, I now realize how stupid that was- how stupid I’ve been about this whole thing-”

“Don’t ever say that again, Y/N. You’re not stupid, and Nyx having cancer isn’t your fault. This was something that was inevitable and nothing you could do was going to stop it.” Dr. Lee cut through your words. You tried to comprehend what he was saying, but instead, your brain was only repeating the same phrase over and over again.

Y/N,

Y/N-

Y/N.

He had used your name, without putting ‘miss’ before it. He had never done such a thing in the past. He had always kept things professional and addressed you by your proper title - just like you had done for him.

But all at once, you realized that perhaps you didn’t mind it at all. And perhaps, his dropping the honorifics wasn’t so bad.

“Still, I’m sorry for not answering the calls,” you said, shaking your head slowly in defeat. You were desperately trying to battle the furious blush that was slinking up your neck at the way that he had said your name. It sounded so perfect and beautiful on his tongue, like-

“I was the one making all of those calls, and I can assure you that I didn’t take your silence to heart. I understand what you’re going through right now because I’ve experienced something similar in the past with one of my passed cats.”

At that, your eyes tore away from the front desk and landed on Dr. Lee. Your gazes locked, and inside his chestnut-brown eyes, you found so many different emotions there… compassion and gentleness. There was a certain kind of faded light there, as you stared at him.

“I… I didn’t know. I just assumed that it was Chan or Jisung…”

Dr. Lee shrugged his proud shoulders nonchalantly, like him calling you three times a day to try and work out a treatment plan for Nyx wasn’t that big of a deal.

When in actuality,

No one in your entire life had ever tried so frantically to get ahold of you.

And the fact that it was him- behind the phone, waiting for you to pick up, hearing your voicemail click on every time the dial failed… just made you feel even worse.

“But that’s all in the past now, so don’t worry about it anymore,” Dr. Lee began, waving a hand in the air to seemingly try and clear your thoughts away. You watched in silence, then, as his hand slid away from his lap and hovered over yours. In a single beat, his fingers were threading through yours, palm against palm. And his hand was so incredibly warm and familiar. “Now, let’s instead focus on Nyx’s treatment, yeah? The sooner we can give her the help she needs, the better.”

For a few seconds, the thoughts of your dying childhood best friend had vanished from your mind and were instead replaced with the feeling of Dr. Lee’s hand holding yours and the way that his tongue formed your name, and the way he smelled - sitting so close to you - of warm chamomile and sweet cookies.

Immediately, at the mention of Nyx, you felt the tears prick at the corners of your eyes once more. “I-I don’t have the money.”

Silence filled the space around the two of you after that, and you felt Dr. Lee’s gaze studying your form, as you squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment. “You mean for her treatment?”

“Y-Yeah… I, I don’t make that much. I can barely afford her and Taffy’s regular bills as it is. But, having to pay for the cancer treatment on top of everything else? I-I just don’t think I can manage that.”

You felt Dr. Lee shift in his seat beside you, making your eyes spring open as you watched the pained expression cast over his entire face. It darkened his cheekbones, shooting a look of pity through his eyes.

“The treatment is really expensive, I’m afraid.”

The hiccups started then, as the tears traced down your cheeks faster. Your entire body shook with the cries, “This is why I didn’t want to come here again… I didn’t want to hear the news that nothing else could be done except- except that.”

It was like the fucking jumbo-sized elephant in the room…

The fact that- the only other solution to Nyx’s cancer would be to put her down.

To euthanize her.

Gone, forever.

Just like that.

And even though you weren’t naïve enough to think that your cat would live forever, saying goodbye to her in such a way just felt downright… cruel, after everything that the two of you had been through together. But... what other choice did you have? It's not like anyone else was going to pay for the expensive treatment, and your insurance sure as hell didn't cover pet fees. And on top of all that, you couldn't expect Dr. Lee to drop his prices exponentially just for your specific case. That'd just be downright cruel to his other customers that paid the exact amount.

“I’m afraid you’re right,” Dr. Lee’s words cut through your stormy thoughts. A sharp pain coursed through your broken heart, as you were forced to come to terms with the problem at hand. “If you can’t afford the treatment, then the only other alternative is… euthanasia.”

You found yourself clutching onto his hand desperately, squeezing his fingers to death between yours, as you peered up at him through glassy eyes. “P-Please… just… just tell me you’ll do it. Because I-I don’t think I can handle it if-” Your voice seized in your chest at the thought of some stranger doing such a thing to your precious Nyx. It was already going to be extremely hard for you, but the thought of some other vet doing it just ripped your heart in two even more.

“We offer ethical euthanasia here, so, of course, I’ll do it,” Dr. Lee clutched a little harder on your hand, and the way that his warm, slender digits felt against yours did something to calm a rattling part inside of you. “Do you feel my hand? It is there, Y/N. And it will continue to be there throughout this entire process.”

The breath caught in your throat, forming a large lump there, as your eyes widened his way. Because there it was again, him calling you by your first name… with no ‘miss’ in front of it.

“T-Thank you… so much. I seriously don’t know what I’d do right now if it wasn’t for you and this wonderful clinic and all of the amazing staff here…” Your voice trailed off, as you felt the warmth of a flush creeping up into your cheeks.

“Yeah, well, that’s what we’re here for… to give as much support as we can to our clients.” Dr. Lee’s tone came out soft and quiet, it ghosted over the shell of your ear like an angel’s sweet whisper.

“I like it.”

You heard Dr. Lee take in a sharp breath at your disjointed words, but before he could ask the meaning behind them, you were talking again.

“You calling me by my first name, I mean… I like it, a lot, Dr. Lee.” Your eyes found him in the dim lighting of the room, and for a split second, you could’ve sworn that you saw… something flash deep in those chestnut-brown pupils.

But then all at once, it vanished, and he was giving you an easy smile, pearly white teeth on display. And pink, rosebud lips tugging up- wait, why were you thinking about his mouth?

“Me too,” he said in that delicate way of his, just as he squeezed your palm once more, “I really like it… Y/N.”

To be continued...

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dogboytim · 8 months

Note

ok I have a another idea can you write Thomas Hewitt with a teen daughter who is in a relationship! Also love your work ❤️❤️❤️

Ok this one may be odd but I work all the time so uh. I hope it’s good. I don’t know if you mean like the reader being the daughter or the reader being Thomas’ partner. So I’m going with the second one. If you want me to write the first one too just let me know!

Amelia. That was the name Thomas had given your daughter. She had become his whole world the day she was born. He spoiled her. Well, the entire family did. She was the first baby girl in the family since Luda Mae. So they made a really big deal out of it.

Though as Amelia grew older, Thomas began to worry. He could deny it all he wanted but you knew something was eating at him. It got worse when you insisted on sending her to school. You had a friend in a nearby city that let you use her address to enroll Amelia. See, Thomas was used to being around his daughter 24/7. He needed to know that she was ok at all times. Sending her to school was a big jump for him. Her first day of High school was even worse. Thankfully, he seemed to worry less as her time in school went on.

“Hey, question.” Amelia looked at you as she got off the bus. “Um, could I bring Sam back to the house to meet dad?” Sam? You looked behind your daughter, locking eyes with the brunette boy. Amelia had only been in high school for two months and she already had a boyfriend? Or had they been together since middle school?

“Of course.” You smiled. You knew Thomas wouldn’t hurt the boy. Especially if he was Amelia’s significant other. He wouldn’t be happy about it but he needed to accept that she was growing up. She was a freshman in high school now. Of course she was going to start dating.

The two teenagers got in the back of the car. Both were nervous. Amelia more so than Sam. She had a reason to be with her fathers’ particular line of work. You just hoped Thomas would take the news well.

Sam seemed a bit shocked when the three of you arrived at the house. Both by how far out the family lived and by the size of the house. You couldn’t help but laugh at him.

“Alright. I’ll go get your father while you introduce Sam to Luda Mae.” Amelia nodded, grabbing Sam by the wrist and leading him in to the kitchen. That left you to go down to the basement and break the news to Thomas.

Your husband was, as usual, working. His hands covered in blood. You’d have to make him clean up before he met Sam. It didn’t take long for Thomas to spot you. He gently wrapped you up in a hug, placing loving kissing all over your face.

“Amelia is in the kitchen.” You managed to get out between the kisses. “But you’ve got to clean up. She brought her boyfriend over to meet you.” His eyes nearly doubled in size. You could feel him get tense. A boyfriend meant that Amelia could get her heart broken and he didn’t want his little girl to suffer through that. Despite his worries, he did clean up to look somewhat presentable to Sam.

As the two of you entered the kitchen, you could see Sam practically shrink in his seat when he saw Thomas. Amelia seemed less nervous and more excited to see her father. She was nothing if not a daddy’s girl.

“Sam, this is my dad.” She introduced. “Dad, this is same. We’ve been together since middle school last year.” Thomas held his hand out to the boy, trying his best not to chase the boy off. No matter how much he actually wanted to. Sam took his hand, quickly shaking it.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, sir.” He smiled. “Amelia is an incredibly smart woman. If it weren’t for her help, I wouldn’t have passed science last year.” Thomas huffed. He knew the boy was trying way too hard now. As if sensing the tension between the two men, Luda Mae brought out some food. You and Amelia gave her a questioning glance before she silently confirmed that it wasn’t human meat.

Dinner passed smoothly. Sam became more confident and began to tell everyone about how he and Amelia first met. Though Thomas still tried to kill the boy with nothing more than a mere glare. It would probably take a few more visits for Thomas to actually get used to him.

The real issue was the goodbye kiss Sam gave Amelia when his parents came to pick him up. That made Thomas really upset. So upset, in fact, that he had to go down to the basement to let off steam. Amelia frowned, giving you a worried look. You assured her that you’d handle it and she needed to go to bed for school.

“Thomas.” You stopped on the bottom step, watching him rip and tear at the corpse on the table. “Can I talk to you for a moment?” He stopped, giving you enough Tim to walk over and gently grab his arm. He seemed to ease up at this.

“Thomas, I know you don’t like the fact that she has a boyfriend but she’s growing up. She’s wanting to experiment and try new things.” You smiled softly. “She’s genuinely loves that boy and I’m sure if they do break up, you’ll be the first person she runs to.” He just had to accept that killing him would be off the table.

He pulled down his mask, kissing your forehead. It was a gesture that you had come to learn meant that he understood you. Neither of you were ready for Amelia to grow up. Then again, no parent ever was.

#horror #horror movies #slashers #slasher imagines #slasher fanfiction #texas chainsaw massacre #tcm 2003 #tcm 2006 #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x reader

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lynzishell · 1 month

Text

Prev // Next

Transcript and Bonus below the cut:

Phoenix: It’s been ten years, almost to the day, since I lost my mom. I’ve been thinking about her a lot since we had Aspen. Something about knowing that she’ll never get to know her granddaughter. That Aspen will never get to know her. It’s a different kind of grief that I wasn’t prepared for.

Phoenix: [wipes a stray tear from his eye] After I moved in with Julian, I would come out here sometimes. I’d sit on this bench and look out at the water, and I’d talk to her. I’d tell her about my life, that I loved her and missed her, that I was sorry for being such a pain in the ass. I even told her about Malcolm. I don’t know why this spot. Maybe just because it’s pretty here, and away from everything and quiet, but I could almost convince myself that she could hear me.

Phoenix: I guess I hoped that by bringing you both here… well, it’s the closest I could get to introducing you. Dawn: If your mom was here right now, would she prefer it if I called her Leanne? Or Miss Realta? Phoenix: [breathes a laugh through his nose] Definitely Leanne. She’d give me hell if I let you call her Miss Realta. Dawn: Okay. Well, Leanne, my name is Dawn, and I am madly in love with your son. We’re getting married in a couple of months, and I’m so excited. You’re invited, of course, if you can make it to Brindleton Bay.

Dawn: Most importantly, though, this is Aspen. She’s your granddaughter. Her middle name is Leanne, after you, of course. And, um, you should know that Phoenix is an incredible father. I wish I could’ve gotten to know you. And I wish you were here to give me some parenting advice because you clearly did something right, and I feel so lost all of the time. But I promise we’ll come back to visit, at least every Winterfest, so you can see Aspen as she gets older.

Phoenix: Thank you. Dawn: Thank you for sharing this place with us. I can see why you were drawn to it. It does kinda feel like she’s here, like she’s listening. Phoenix: [nods but doesn’t speak for fear that his voice will betray him] Aspen: [coos] Phoenix: [clears his throat] Did I ever tell you that she wanted to write children’s books? Dawn: I remember you saying she used to make up stories a lot when you were little.

Phoenix: Yeah [smiles at the memory] She was never able to pursue writing seriously because she was always working two or three jobs to take care of us, to take care of me. I always hoped she’d be able to one day, and that she’d publish her own books. I can probably tell Aspen a few of them from memory, but how cool would it have been to be able to give her an actual book?

Dawn: That would’ve been amazing. Out of all the stories she told you, did you have a favorite?

Phoenix: Oh, god, um… if I had to pick, it would probably be this one about a polar bear name JuJu that dreamed of going to Jupiter. [laughs] I remember, we were learning about the solar system in school, and we all had to do a report on a planet. I chose Jupiter. But I had a really hard time writing the report, I’d never done one before. So, she made up this story about my favorite animal, a polar bear, going to Jupiter. It was really funny and full of facts about the planet. Not only did I get an A on my report, but I made her retell the story about a hundred times.

Dawn: Aw, that’s so cute. I wanna hear it. Will you tell us the story? Phoenix: Right now? Dawn: Yeah. Phoenix: Okay, sure…

✨Bonus✨

And, of course, Aspen got to meet her Great Uncle Julian while they were in Copperdale. She was a little unsure at first, but she warmed up to him pretty quick. 🥰

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starryeyedjanai · 9 months

Note

helloo, for the writing prompt thing 9. “Don’t ask me that.” ☺️💕

thanks for the prompts #9. "Don't ask me that." and #30. “Can I sit here? The other tables are full.” @delta-piscium and @atmilliways 🥰

to be known

steddie | rated: teen | 3.7k | angst with a happy ending :)

read on AO3

When the words settle onto his skin on his 18th birthday - Can I sit here? The other tables are full. - Steve is immediately taken back to the first week of middle school.

The day he met Eddie. When his hair was buzzed short and he was brand new to the school and knew no one.

He remembers those words.

He remembers looking up from his lunch and seeing this kid that looked nothing like Steve or any of his friends - dressed in all black, some kind of band logo on his t-shirt. He remembers seeing how timid he was to be asking, remembers saying yes or something to that accord.

He looks at the words and he's sure, he's certain, that the words etched onto his skin are the first words Eddie spoke to him.

Steve can't remember exactly what he said to Eddie in response to these words, just that he let Eddie sit with him and they've been best friends ever since, however unlikely a pair they made.

If Steve's words are on Eddie's skin, however unmemorable they are to Steve, he's sure Eddie would know they're soulmates - he would remember the first words Steve said to him all those years ago just like Steve remembers.

But.

Eddie turned 18 a while ago and he's never once mentioned the words on his skin to Steve.

Steve asked once, a few days after Eddie's birthday and Eddie changed the subject. Steve thought that might mean that he didn't have any words on his skin, because not everyone does.

He's thought about it since then too. If Eddie had gotten his words on his birthday, why would he not mention them? If it was something incredibly generic or even if it was a phrase that made no sense to him, he probably wouldn't have hidden it.

So then Steve had the thought that maybe it was something personal or maybe something embarrassing that Eddie just didn't want to say out loud.

And yeah, they're best friends, but that doesn't mean they have to share everything with each other. If it was something Eddie wanted to keep to himself, who was Steve to try and pry the information out of him? If Eddie wanted him to know, he'd tell him.

But now, looking at the words on his skin, he thinks that maybe there's another reason he never said anything. That maybe it's because he has Steve's words on his skin, but he doesn't want Steve as a soulmate. That maybe he was hoping it was a mistake, that if he ignored it, Steve might not get Eddie's words when he turned 18.

If Eddie has something written on him, he's hidden it from Steve for months. If he has a soul mark, he's hidden it for a reason.

The thoughts running through his head make Steve spiral a little, looking at the words on his skin.

It makes something ache in his chest, thinking about Eddie not wanting him. They've been friends for over five years now. They do everything together. They know each other better than anyone else.

If Eddie has his words on him somewhere and didn't tell Steve because he was that horrified at the thought of being tied to Steve forever, he doesn't know how his heart is going to take it.

As it stands, just thinking about it is making his heart beat a mile a minute, the hurt spreading with every heartbeat.

Steve looks at the words on his skin for a long time.

Eddie's handwriting is normally neat and measured, so unlike every facet of Eddie's actual existence.

He thinks about Eddie's room, always messy and cluttered. He thinks of Eddie's hyperactive personality, always needing to fidget, always needing to be doing something.

He thinks about seeing Eddie so focused on writing new lyrics for his band, thinks about looking at Eddie's notebook when he shows him a clever turn of words he came up with, the way his handwriting starts off small and contained, but gets bigger and sloppier the more excited he is.

The words on his skin are sloppy, excited.

But there's a lump in his throat thinking about how if Eddie has his words, he wasn't excited about it.

He doesn't know what he's going to do if Eddie tells him that he has his words on his skin and he doesn't want to be with him.

He woke up this morning with hope blossoming in his chest at the thought of seeing his soulmate's writing, their first words to him, on his body.

And now, he's getting ready for school, going through the motions, dreading what might happen.

It's not like he can miss school - Eddie would just skip school and come find him, regardless of the fact that his many unexcused absences are what got him held back last year. He'd skip anyway, and he'd find Steve no matter where he went.

He knows all of Steve's hideouts, all the places Steve goes when his parents are home and on his case.

He knows everywhere Steve might think to go if he's skipping school on his birthday because he knows Steve. He knows him better than Steve thinks he knows himself most days.

At school, he heads to his locker and doesn't look for Eddie. Sometimes, Eddie hitches a ride with Steve, but on Mondays, Eddie has Hellfire after school, so he drives himself.

Steve's never been as grateful for a Monday as he is now. He doesn't think he could have handled being in a car with Eddie this morning, trapped and with nowhere to go, the big question hanging between them, probably.

Did your mark come? (and maybe in this case, is it me?)

It's what everyone wants to know on someone's 18th birthday.

By the time he makes it to his locker, he's been asked if he got his mark a handful of times.

He makes it to third period before he realizes he hasn't seen Eddie all day.

The feeling of dread is sitting heavy in his stomach. Did Eddie skip school today because he didn't want to deal with Steve's mark at all? If he knows that Steve is his soulmate, this just further cements the fact that Eddie doesn't want him, that Eddie is doing everything he can to get away from Steve.

At lunch, he heads out to his car and sits in the quiet for a while.

He's not going back in there, he realizes, after a while as the clock keeps ticking forward, closer to the end of lunch.

He starts his car and heads up to Lover's Lake.

Because he knows Eddie just as well as Eddie knows him, and he knows exactly where he'd be if he didn't want Steve to find him.

Because as much as it might hurt to know Eddie doesn't want him, he has to hear him say the words. He has to know for sure that Eddie never said anything because he doesn't want Steve.

He has to hear it because anything his mind can make up is probably worse than anything the Eddie he knows would actually say. He'd let him down easy, if it's true that he just doesn't want Steve.

Steve thinks it would hurt the same even if Eddie was cruel about it - if he scoffed at him and said of course he didn't want him versus him gently sitting Steve down and saying as much as he likes being his friend, he just doesn't want him like that.

He parks next to the curb in front of Rick's house, behind Eddie's van, and steels himself. He's going to walk in that house and he might not come out of it the same. He might leave with one less friend. One less best friend.

He doesn't bother knocking because he knows the door will be unlocked. He can hear Eddie and Rick talking in the living room so he follows the voices.

The conversation dies immediately when Eddie catches sight of him. He blanches, like he wasn't expecting Steve to come find him, like he was expecting Steve to just let this go untalked about the way Eddie has for so many months now.

"Steve," Eddie whispers into the painfully awkward silence.

"Eddie," Steve says back. "I think we need to talk, don't you?"

He sees Eddie swallow and glance at the doorway behind him, like he's thinking about making a break for it.

He knows for certain that Eddie's his soulmate now.

Steve tries not to let it show how much that affects him, the thought of Eddie being so fucking unwilling to talk to him about this that he'd rather run from him. He's never run from Steve like this before.

"Please," Steve says softly, his voice desperate and shot.

Eddie nods slowly. He says, "Rick, um. Can you, uh, give us a minute?"

Rick looks between them and says to Eddie, "You know this is my house, right?" but he gets up all the same and heads to the sliding glass door to step outside.

"Steve," Eddie says again.

"You've been hiding from me," he says, stepping closer to the couch.

"It's not that I was, was hiding, per se," Eddie stammers out.

"No?" Steve asks. "So you just skipped school to hang out on Rick's couch today?"

He sits on the opposite end of the couch, a good distance from Eddie. His heart is in his throat and he realizes all of a sudden that he's not going to be okay if Eddie doesn't want him. He thought maybe he could power through this, hear Eddie say he'd rather never see Steve again than be stuck with him as a soulmate or something equally as devastating, but there are tears stinging at the corners of his eyes at the thought.

He doesn't want Eddie to not want him.

He looks away from Eddie, blinks rapidly a couple times to stubbornly keep the tears at bay.

"I don't. I don't know what you want me to say," Eddie says softly.

Steve clears his throat and says, "I want you to tell me why you didn't tell me."

Eddie scoffs and says, "Don't ask me that."

And Steve sits there, feeling defeated, feeling like his heart is splintering because his best friend is shutting him out. Eddie doesn't want him, doesn't want to even talk to him about it.

He can't do anything but stare at him for a moment, the sinking feeling in his chest settling like it's made a home there.

So that's it then.

He won't even talk to him about it.

He gets up, ready to leave because what else is there to say if Eddie can't even bear to say it out loud? If he can't even acknowledge that they're soulmates, can't say out loud why he never told him, it has to be because he realizes anything he says is going to hurt Steve.

Eddie's not malicious. Even if he doesn't want Steve like that, he still probably wouldn't want to hurt him.

Eddie rushes to stand up when Steve turns to leave, the stinging in his eyes getting worse than before.

"Steve, don't- we can just-" Eddie lets out a frustrated breath. "Can't we just go back to how it was before? This doesn't have to change anything."

And those are words that make the tears that Steve's been trying to keep in tip over. He wipes at his eyes, frustrated with himself. He told himself he wouldn't cry about this in front of Eddie, but here he is, tears falling down his face anyway.

Eddie looks panicked all of a sudden, like he didn't expect Steve's tears. Like he thought Steve would just say yes, say sure, we can just pretend we aren't fucking soulmates.

"Steve?" He says his name hesitantly, like he's a startled horse or something, and Steve wants to turn and run, wants to hide from the hurt feeling that's gripping his heart.

But he came here for a reason.

He came here to get the answers that he needs and he doesn't know that he has them yet.

Eddie won't talk about it, but Steve needs him to. Eddie still wants to be his friend and Steve needs to hear him say that there isn't a chance, needs to know that there isn't a hope of a chance that things might change for Eddie one day. Because Steve will wait, is the thing.

Steve would wait forever for him.

If Eddie wants things to go back to normal, to how they were before they knew they were soulmates, Steve would keep being his friend and keep waiting for things to change forever if Eddie doesn't tell him now that he can never feel that way about him.

So he says through his tears, "I need you to tell me the truth. I don't care if you think it'll hurt me. I just need to hear it."

Eddie looks confused. "Why would me telling you how I feel hurt you? That's- Why are you crying? What did I say to make you cry?"

"You don't want to talk about it! You want to pretend this doesn't exist," he says, pulling the hem of his shirt up to expose the writing on his rib cage. "You want us to pretend we aren't soulmates and you didn't think that would hurt me?"

Eddie shakes his head. "You- you don't want this," he insists. He hasn't even asked what Steve wants.

"How could you possibly know what I want when we haven't even talked about it? You hid this from me for months, Eddie! And now you're gonna stand here and act like you know what I want?" Steve scoffs, the tears in his eyes now coming from a place of anger instead of hurt.

"You're not into guys, Steve. And you're certainly not into me. I know that much," Eddie says, still looking at the words etched on Steve's skin.

Steve lowers his shirt. "You didn't even ask me," he says again. He wipes the tears from his eyes and steps forward, closer to Eddie.

Because Eddie said Steve wasn't into him, wasn't into guys. He never said that he wasn't into Steve. He's hanging onto a fucking thread of hope, but Eddie didn't say he didn't want him.

He doesn't know if Eddie's deflecting from the real issue of him not wanting Steve by turning it around on him, but he has to try. He's his soulmate. Of course he has to try.

He stands in front of Eddie, the tips of their shoes touching.

"Show me," he says softly, the words a whisper into the quiet of the room.

He looks at Eddie and sees the fear in his eyes, sees how scared he is. He didn't notice it before, being so far away from him. But up close, he can tell that Eddie is scared.

Scared like Steve is scared.

He just hopes he's getting this right.

Eddie pulls the collar of his shirt down to show the script sitting right on his collarbone.

Oh, yeah, of course! I like your hair!

"You've been hiding this from me," Steve says, running his fingertips over the curve of the letters on Eddie's skin. Eddie shivers under the light touch.

"I thought it might be you, but I wasn't sure," Eddie says back.

"But you wanted it to be," he says, taking the leap. He thinks Eddie wanted it to be him. He hopes he wanted it to be him.

Eddie looks him in the eyes, that fear still gripping him. "I wanted it to be you so fucking bad, Stevie. I thought, when I got my words- I thought that I had wished it true, that I wanted you so badly that I made the universe make it you. And I've been feeling so fucking guilty this entire time because of it."

"Guilty?" he asks, confused.

Eddie nods. "Like I forced it into existence because I wanted it too much."

"I don't think that's how the universe works, Eddie."

"I think it's a special case because you don't even like guys and somehow you got one as a soulmate. Got me as a soulmate." Eddie looks so dejected, so guilty about it that Steve has to set him straight.

"Eddie, we've been soulmates since the moment we met," he says, tearing his eyes away from writing on his chest, the writing that's in Steve's handwriting, tolook into Eddie's eyes. "Even if we never got the mark, you would still be it for me."

Eddie bites his lip, glancing down at Steve's mouth quickly. "Do you mean that?" he asks, still hesitant.

"I mean it. I- we've never really talked about who we're into, and maybe that was a mistake. Because I do like guys. Or- well, I like you. I've liked you for so long," he says, glancing down at Eddie mouth too.

He thinks getting to kiss him would either calm his rapidly beating heart down or send him straight into orbit. Either way, he's going to find out.

"You like me? Me?" Eddie asks, surprised, and Steve swoops in to kiss the incredulity off his tongue.

He presses his mouth to the plush lips in front of him, just a gentle press at first and he feels more than hears Eddie gasp against his lips.

It's-

People talk all the time about how kissing your soulmate is different from kissing just anyone. That it's somehow astronomically different. But Steve's never understood it until now.

Because how can kissing your soulmate feel any different from kissing someone else? Sure, maybe there's different feelings involved, but if you love someone who isn't your soulmate, does that mean kissing them wouldn't be as good?

These were the questions Steve used to think about when he would think about who his future soulmate might be. Back in middle school and early high school.

How could kissing anyone feel that much different?

It's what all the magazines say, all the romance novels and the tv shows and movies too. They all say that it's different, that you'll know for sure, as if there could be any doubt with the first thing they say to you marked on your skin forever.

Steve never thought they could be right, that it was a dramatization of what it really is. That even through the woo-woo soulmate magic or whatever, kissing would still feel like kissing, no matter who you were kissing.

He's never been more glad to be wrong about something.

Because it is different. Somehow, it is.

It's different from kissing Nancy, who Steve was very much in love with.

It's different from kissing any of the girls he's kissed in the past, different from the one very confusing kiss he shared with Tommy Hagan back in sixth grade for "practice".

It's like there's an energy between them, the force that's been trying to pull them together for years finally snapping into place.

Something inside him feels settled. Like for the first time in his life, he feels content. All the background noise - the leaky kitchen faucet Steve has heard since stepping inside the house, the birds outside, the buzz of electricity that Steve can always hear - it all just fades away.

All he's left with is Eddie, right in front of him.

He's the only thing he can feel right now, the only thing he can hear and taste and smell, and see when he pulls back from the kiss.

Eddie had his eyes closed, so Steve gets to see him blink them open slowly, like his whole world has been shifted too. Like something is finally settled inside him too.

It kind of makes Steve want to cry again, embarrassingly enough.

He cups Eddie's jaw and leans in to kiss him again, this time swiping his tongue across his lower lip. Eddie opens his mouth and Steve tilts his head to the side and presses his tongue inside his mouth.

Their tongues tangle together for the first time and it's so heady, Steve feels dizzy with it. He kisses him harder, licking into his mouth, both hands now on either side of his head, not trapping him or keeping him there, just holding him so he can be kissed by Steve for as long as they both want it.

Eddie's hands find Steve's waist, and one slips up under his shirt. He touches the words written onto Steve's rib cage and Steve trembles, the skin contact making him shivery with want.

And god, does he want.

He wants everything. He wants to keep kissing Eddie until the room around them darkens as the sun goes down. He wants to stand here kissing him for hours, wants to bite his lips until they're swollen and tender and then keep on kissing his bruised mouth. He wants to touch him, wants to put his hands everywhere, wants Eddie's hands on him.

He's snapped out of the trance Eddie's mouth has put him in by a tap-tap-tap on the glass door.

They pull apart slowly, their mouths separating with a slick sound that Steve's going to be replaying in his head for hours.

They both look at the back door where Rick is standing.

"Can I come back in now? It's chilly," he asks, his voice muffled through the glass.

Steve rolls his eyes and steps back from Eddie.

Eddie grins at him and says, "Yeah, man. Come on in."

Rick slides the door open, steps back inside, and says, "Glad you two finally worked this all out then. Maybe now Eddie will stop complaining about it all the time."

Eddie looks at Rick, betrayed, then looks at Steve and says, "I don't- I do not complain. I was just, I do probably talk about it a lot, but I wasn't complaining, exactly-"

"Eddie, you complain more than anyone I know, about everything," Steve says, voice playful.

Eddie lets out an exaggerated gasp. "You're going to say that to me, your soulmate?"

Steve just rolls his eyes.

He's got the rest of their life to get Eddie to admit that he's the most dramatic person he knows.

---

tagging people who voted for this in the wip game or asked to be tagged: @legitcookie @sidekick-hero + @patchworkgargoyle 💕💕💕

#asks #steddie #stranger things #st fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #janai.doc

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