#(and shaking because i have no one to talk to about sc stuff!!!!)
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croh3 ¡ 2 months ago
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the hardest part of liking the penumbra podcast is being the second citadel fan first and juno steel fan second
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hippiegoth97 ¡ 27 days ago
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Into the Fire: An Eddie Munson x Reader Story Pt. 29
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Collage by me :)
Master List
Part 28
Tag List: @keikoraven @ar-jupiter @alcielo1438 @cairro-xx @stolen-in-moonlight
@micheledawn1975 @janiejenn @rafeyscurtainbangs @melodymunson @spacedoutdaydreamer
@veemoon @sariahs-stuff @feral-pumpkin-energy @comeonatmebruh @munsoneightysixx
@morgthemagpie @josephquinnsfreckles @jenniquinn @userchai @cometzombie
@spookybabey @daggerdaggerkitten @nina6708 @sanctumdemunson @yourdailymemedelivery
@person-005 @slowandsteddie @gri959 @elegantkoalapaper @letitgoandletlive
@loserboysandlithium @costellation-hunter @leelei1980 @h-ness1944 @pretendthisnameisclever
@ohmeg @stalactitekilla @hellfirenacht @birdysaturne @oneforthemunny
@prettyboyeddiemunson @eddievanmunson @msgexymunson @rattkween86 @violetpixiedust
@bimbobaggins69 @angel-munson @eldermayfield @munsonsbtch @bimbogorewhore
@mediocredreams @xxbimbobunnyxx @taintedcigs @ali-r3n @emxxblog
Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: swearing, nightmares, crying, sexual assault/coercion, domestic violence, drug use, suicidal thoughts, vomit, angst/anxiety, swearing, smut, fluff, crying, angst, light arguing, co-dependence, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, mentions of sex toys, dirty talk, praise/degradation, squirting
Word Count: 14.1k
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Divider by @strangergraphics
Part 29.1: Nights in White Satin
Wednesday, July 26th, 1989
"Where the hell is he?" You ask in annoyance, pacing back and forth across the living room carpet. You're biting the cuticle on your thumb, anxiously waiting for Murray Bauman to show up to your house. It's a few days after Eddie's birthday, and you've been on edge about this meeting all week. It's been distracting you at work, and you've been getting very little sleep the last couple days. Mass amounts of coffee and sugary snacks have been getting you through the day, stress eating definitely runs in the family.
You've got everyone in your corner gathered inside the house today. Mom, Dustin, Eddie, Robin, Steve, Nancy, and Jamie and Mr. Biggs from the theater. Harriet and the others are holding down the fort at work, allowing you the time to prepare for the trial. They're really only here in regards to the trial involving Tommy, they don't know anything about the situation between Jason and Chrissy and how you and Eddie got tangled up within it. But Murray mentioned on the phone that you needed to gather the witnesses who would be in your favor, who know of your character and what you may have told them about Tommy and his father harassing you.
"I'm sure he'll be here soon, sugarpuff. Why don't you sit down?" Mom pipes up, as everyone has been watching you pace for a good forty-five minutes.
"No. I'm good." You reply mindlessly, biting down harder on your thumb. You pull a piece of skin off of it with your teeth, causing the layer beneath to sting and bleed. "Fuck." You mutter, sucking on the fresh wound to relieve it.
"Sweetheart, you've gotta relax a little. The trials don't start for a month or two, it's not like you're going on the stand tomorrow." Eddie says, standing up from his seat to go to you. He puts himself in your way, placing his hands gently on your shoulders. You sigh loudly at him stopping you, dropping your hand away from your mouth.
"I know that, Eddie. But I can't help feeling like once it all starts, it's going to be an absolute shitshow." Eddie's about to dissuade your concerns, but you shake your head to stop him. "Both Jason and the Hagans can afford good lawyers. They're gonna tear us and Chrissy to pieces. They'll make it seem like we're lying, or we were 'asking for it'. And I'm terrified of having to deal with that in a room full of people. I'm terrified that I'll say one wrong thing and blow it." You sigh again, bringing your other thumb between your teeth now.
"Baby, you can't assume that it's all gonna go wrong, because then it definitely will. I'm sure this Bauman guy will show us all how to answer the questions and not screw it up. 'Kay?" Eddie speaks calmly to you, but his words provide little comfort. You're still catastrophizing inside your head, picturing the absolute worst case scenario. He's about to open his mouth to speak again, when the doorbell rings.
You leave his hold and go for the door. You open it to reveal a tall man with dark curly hair balding at the top, and a thick beard covering the lower half of his face. He's got silver aviator frames with brown-tinted lenses perched on his nose, and he's dressed in a tweed suit that fits a tad too large on his frame. He's holding a weather-beaten briefcase, and your nose crinkles at the bath of old cologne and strong aftershave he's drenched himself in.
"Ah, you must be Ms. Henderson! Sorry I'm late, I was looking for offensive graffiti!" Murray says with a light chuckle, pointing his thumb at the exterior of the house.
"Oh, they washed that off weeks ago." You reply awkwardly. This man is proving to be very strange right off the bat. Maybe this was a bad idea.
"Of course. Can I come in? Or would you prefer to get legal advice in your doorway?" He replies, smiling with all his teeth.
"Uh, yeah, sure." You say quickly, moving out of his way to let the man inside. He steps through the entryway, taking in the look of your home. He takes notice of the gathering of people in your living room, all of whom give him a curious once-over.
"My, my. You've certainly got a big family, Y/N." He jokes, laughing to himself again.
"Oh, no. They're一" You try to explain as you close the door, but he cuts you off.
"The witnesses. I know." He says, turning his head back to look at you. "They sure are quiet, though. That might prove to be a problem in court." He laughs yet again. What is this guy's deal? He's so serious, and yet not, all at the same time.
"Would you like a cup of coffee, Mr. Bauman?" Mom asks, getting up from her seat.
"Sure thing. You must be Y/N's....older sister." He says in a somewhat flirtatious tone.
"Oh, no. I'm her mother, Claudia." Mom replies with a bashful giggle. A light blush colors her cheeks, and you immediately feel nauseated.
"Well, I can certainly see the resemblance. And I'll take milk and sugar in that coffee, if you don't mind." Murray replies with a grin, and Mom toddles off to the kitchen to fix the man his drink. He turns to you and Eddie now, giving him an unsubtle look up and down. "I take it you're the boyfriend?" He asks.
"Yeah. Uh, Eddie. Nice to meet you." Eddie answers, sticking out his hand to shake Murray's. But Murray doesn't extend his own forward, so he quickly drops it back to his side. He awkwardly slides his hand into his pocket, attempting to mask the hurt at the rejection.
"Right. Well, I think we'd better get started. We're already cutting it pretty close for the day, and we've got a shitload of work to do. Pardon my french." Murray says, looking around for a spot to sit. The couch is taken, as are the armchairs and recliner. He notices the dining room, going there for a moment to retrieve a chair from the table. He sets it across from your friends and coworkers, sitting down and crossing one leg over the other. He sets his briefcase on his lap, clicking the locks open to prepare himself.
"Where do we start?" You ask, taking a seat in Eddie's lap once he returns to his spot on the end of the couch. Murray pulls out some papers from his case, shuffling them around messily before looking up to answer your question. His eyes narrow at your choice of seating, but you aren't really sure why. It seems Eddie hasn't made a very good impression on the man, but he hasn't done anything to put him off. You hope not, anyway, since he's representing both of you.
"We start...at the beginning. And I mean the very beginning. I'm going to need every nasty little detail of your past relationship with..." He consults his papers for the name of the defendant. "...Mr. Tommy Hagan." Just hearing Tommy's name from Murray's mouth makes you shudder. This is gonna be a nightmare, you think to yourself while contemplating where to begin.
"Oh. Well, um..." You pause, wondering if it's a good idea for everyone sitting quietly in the room to hear you recount your regrettable bout of 'Tommy Fever'. The whole thing was a steaming hot pile of shit, and you'd love nothing more than to completely forget about it.
"Today, Ms. Henderson." Murray pushes, reaching inside his briefcase again for a notepad and a pen.
"Can you relax a little, man?" Eddie retorts, going on the defensive on your behalf. Murray's eyes meet his for a moment, as if to challenge your boyfriend. But Eddie doesn't back down, he'll defend your dignity to the ends of the earth against anyone that dares to disrespect you.
"Okay!" Murray says loudly after a solid minute of the two men staring one another down. "Look, I get it. You're the bad boy with a heart of gold, right? Defending your lady's honor...the whole protective teddy bear thing? It's real cute, I'm sure Y/N digs the hell outta that." He speaks snidely, which makes Eddie scoff. "But...I am here to provide legal counsel. Highly discounted legal counsel, at that, as a favor to Chief Powell. So, I have no time for chest-puffing, or anxious apprehension. M'Kay? The defense lawyers for the little shits you've managed to piss off are fierce. And they will do everything in their power to pick apart every single claim you have against them." The man gestures wildly as he speaks, hoping to God you'll understand how dire this situation really is. "Now, I suggest we stop stalling and get some goddamn work done! Sound good?" He finishes, looking between you and Eddie to draw some gesture of agreement from you.
"Yes, sir." You reply sheepishly, allowing the man to do his job.
"Great! Now, tell me all about Tommy." He says, clicking his pen. Mom returns with his coffee, handing off the mug to him. He takes a long sip, making a satisfied 'ah' sound after he swallows. He puts the mug onto the coffee table in front of him, still waiting for you to begin.
You proceed to tell Mr. Bauman everything about your ex. How you started dating, the behavior he exhibited towards you, how it all ended so terribly. Your voice shakes often as you speak. Talking about any of this makes every moment, past and present, swirl together like a sickly stew inside your mind. Eddie rubs subtle circles on your thigh with his hand to soothe you through this ordeal. Murray's eyes flick to Eddie's fingers on you every so often, he finds your glaring co-dependence rather annoying. Not only that, it could pose a few potential challenges in court.
Everyone else in the room is very quiet, respecting your time to tell these uncomfortable stories. Murray writes down every relevant detail, and he surprisingly leads you through the questions in a relatively gentle manner. Despite his initially abrasive attitude, he does take genuine care and interest in helping you out. You eventually finish with recounting the events of the Hagans vandalizing your home, which unfortunately lets everyone in on what you were up to before Tommy threw the brick through your window.
"Jesus, Y/N. I'm so sorry." Robin says, breaking the silence once you've stopped talking. A couple of tears have fallen from your eyes during this, though you hadn't noticed them until now. The others murmur sympathetic affirmation of Robin's words. They truly feel for you, nobody should have to be subjected to what you've been through.
"As are we all. Now, unfortunately, all of this is definitely going to be twisted against you. We'll prepare for all that later on, I just need details of what everyone knows for the time being." Murray sighs, realizing just how much work he has cut out for himself. He takes another long drink of coffee, making that same satisfied noise once he swallows. "So, who's next?"
One by one, your gathered witnesses give Murray every possible detail to help your case. It takes a few hours, with Murray's coffee cup being refilled multiple times throughout the process. Nobody else bothers to ask for anything, they'd hate to have your mother running herself ragged. You snuggle further into Eddie as time passes, and by the end of it, everyone is tired and starving. You order some pizzas to thank everyone for being so helpful, and you all take a small mental rest to talk amongst yourselves and relax. The energy up until this point has been tense, mixed emotions clogging up the airflow in the room. But thankfully, you're finally able to breathe again.
"Well, I'd say we've had a very productive day." Murray says once all your friends leave. It's just the five of you now, and Bauman is putting his notes away in his briefcase.
"Yeah. I guess." You shrug, about ready to pass out in Eddie's arms. This afternoon has taken so much out of you, and this is only the beginning of a long, awful process.
"I know it's a lot, Y/N. But we've got to do the work if we're going to win this thing. We also have to do your witness work for the Carver case, but I'll leave that for another day. Right now, though, I've got a motel room and a bottle of Russian vodka waiting for me." He replies as he stands, brushing pizza crumbs off of his lap.
"I appreciate the help, Mr. Bauman." You say, getting up to walk him out. Eddie joins you on your feet, but stays by the couch.
"Please, call me Murray. Mr. Bauman is my mother!" He laughs at his own odd joke.
"Sure, Murray. We'll see you tomorrow." You reply, opening the door for him to leave. He nods, and steps out into the muggy night and walks toward his car. It's a small step above a total piece of junk, corroded paint, rusted rims and all. You close the door again, leaning against it while letting out a deep sigh.
"Well, he's...something." Eddie says with an awkward chuckle.
"I think he was very nice. I'm sure he'll be a great help." Mom chimes in, seemingly a little bit smitten with the man. Jesus, Mom. Not my fucking lawyer, you think to yourself.
"He didn’t seem to like me very much." Eddie adds, almost mumbling. He usually doesn't give a shit what others think of him, but it felt wrong to make a bad impression this time.
"He just doesn't know you like I do, love. Don't worry about him, he'll come around." You say, going to Eddie to reassure him. He nods silently, and you give him a light peck. "Ugh, I really don't wanna do this all over again tomorrow. And who knows how many more days after that. And then the trial...it all feels like too much." You try your best not to pout as you speak, but the mere thought of having Murray drill you with questions and prep you for the cross-examination makes you want to give up entirely. You know that you can't do that, but your lives would be far less difficult if you just dropped the charges.
"Sweetheart, you don't have to think about all that right now. You've done enough worrying for one day, you need to get some sleep." Eddie says softly, pulling you closer to wrap his arms around you. You lay your head on his chest, your eyes slipping closed as you enjoy his warmth.
"It'll be alright, Y/N. You've got us, and the club, and all our friends standing behind you. You're far from alone in this." Dustin says.
"We've got your back, sugarpuff." Claudia adds.
"I'm so lucky to have the best family ever." You extend one of your arms out for Mom and Dustin to join your hug, needing to feel them close to you. They don't hesitate to do so, fully covering you in a kind embrace of love and support. A few more tears escape your eyes, ones of relief as opposed to pain and fear this time. "I love you all so much. I don't know what I'd do without you." You sniffle.
"We love you too, princess. And we're always gonna be here for you. No matter what happens." Eddie coos, gently stroking your hair.
You all separate from your group hug a couple minutes later, retiring to your respective rooms for the night. You and Eddie cuddle Arwen for a little while, and he pulls out the book he's been reading to you for the last few days. Another Stephen King classic, The Dead Zone. You do your best to stay conscious for at least a chapter or two, but it's a struggle to hear a single word he says at a certain point. Eddie takes notice of this, closing the book and carefully getting out of bed to flick off the light. He returns to you, gingerly moving your body so he can spoon you. You let out a couple sleepy sounds, moments away from falling into the deep pit of sleep that's been waiting for you. He plants a tender kiss to your neck, and closes his own eyes as you drift away. As one can easily predict, nightmares plague your mind as you sleep. A constant barrage of all your fears and anxieties playing out in your subconscious.
"Mornin', sweet thing." You hear a voice rasp in your ear. You stir from your sleep, feeling a warm body snuggling up to you beneath the covers. Silk sheets slip around under you, and your bed feels far too large. You roll over, wondering where you are. You blink your eyes open, and find that you're in bed with Tommy. He's dressed only in some boxers, and you are completely naked. "There you are, babygirl. I was wondering how long I'd have to wait." He smirks, putting himself above you. 
What is this? Where's Eddie?, you think to yourself. You don't say anything, too afraid of what might happen if you start asking questions. The look on Tommy's face is odd, like he's far too happy to see you awake. He slips a hand below the covers, and he starts touching various parts of your body. You flinch at his hands on your flesh, it feels so wrong. Your hands meet his chest, and you're about to push him off. That is, until you notice the massive diamond ring sitting on your left hand. 
"No..." You murmur, examining the glistening jewel in the low morning light coming through the massive window to the right of you. This can't be happening.
"I'm afraid you don't get to use that word with me, Y/N. You're mine, and I can touch you whenever, and however, I want." Tommy says viciously, squeezing your breast harshly in his grip. He's so rough, but it doesn't feel good at all. It feels...violent, like he's taking ownership over you. You want to kick and scream and run away, but his weight is far too heavy on you. It's like you're glued to the bed, helpless to do anything to stop this. You close your eyes, trying to get yourself to wake up. You count to ten, ignoring the feeling of Tommy's fingers traveling between your legs. You're dryer than the Sahara desert, which makes him angry. "Not in the mood, babygirl? That's too bad." He says through clenched teeth. He reaches over to the ornate bedside table, pulling a bottle of lube from the drawer. "No problem, I can make you as wet as I need. I'd hate to tear you up too much." His words make you want to puke, but alas, no bile comes forth to help you this time.
"Please...no." You whimper, though he pretends he doesn't hear it. You feel the lube spill over your lower half, and he shoves his digits inside to spread it all around. You cry out in pain, wishing he'd just leave you alone. You try to will yourself somewhere else. You'll go to the goddamn moon without a spacesuit, or the middle of a swamp full of hungry alligators, anywhere but here. It appears to work when the pain of Tommy forcing himself inside you stops. You breathe a sigh of relief, realizing you're sitting upright now.
You open your eyes again, but it's far from a pretty picture. You're still in this unfamiliar house, one that Jack bought for you and Tommy. You can feel it, the room where you were before is just up a flight of lush-carpeted stairs. The place is rather lavish, the highest quality furniture and appliances throughout the place. You're sitting on the couch, with a full spread of drugs sitting before you on the coffee table. Weed, coke, heroine, even. Waiting for you like an all-you-can-eat buffet. You slump down to the floor, though it's hard to move your legs. You gaze down at your body, finding that you're squeezed into a skin-tight, golden dress that shows off as much of your body as possible. Tommy's pick, no doubt. Your arms and legs are covered in bruises, and you reach up to check your makeup-streaked face to find one on your cheek as well. It stings at your touch, and you see a flash of how you got the bruise in the first place. You refused to blow Tommy when he asked, so he punched you directly in the face. That was just a few hours ago, and then he left for work.
You pick up the little straw from the table, leaning your head down to the pre-cut lines of coke on the glass tabletop. You snort them all as quickly as you can, numbing the immense emotional turmoil you feel. The maid, Helga, comes in a little while later. She finds you half-conscious on the floor, the metal straw still in your hand. She helps you back onto the couch, but offers you no sympathy or conversation. She's been hired to keep you here, as well as take care of your home. You aren't allowed outside without Tommy's company, and you sure as shit aren't allowed to talk to your friends or family anymore. You wonder if they still care about you, or even think about you at all. But there's no way to know for sure. There's no phone to call them with, and you don't dare try to run away when you have no real idea where the house is located. You could be states away from Hawkins for all you know.
Later, Tommy comes home from work. There's a large, hulking man with him. Your dealer...you wish so badly that he was Eddie instead. Maybe then you could get out of here. But of course, Tommy can't risk a single person you come into contact with wanting to help you leave. You're his, and you're not going anywhere. Except maybe in a body bag. "It's your lucky day, Y/N. Fitz here has a special deal for you tonight." Tommy says gleefully, the two men approaching you.
"What is it?" You ask weakly, already knowing what's to come. This little 'deal' comes at least once a month.
"Same as always, little lady. Double the product...in exchange for that pretty little mouth of yours." Fitz says, licking his lips as he smiles. He's got a gold tooth, the surrounding ones yellowed from tobacco use and lack of care. He stinks of sweat, and something else you can't quite place. But it's horrible, and you know it's only going to get worse when he takes his pants off.
"O-okay..." You answer, nodding your head sluggishly. Fitz takes his usual place in the armchair beside you, and Tommy goes off to eat the dinner that Helga has prepared for him. You'll only get a Slimfast shake later on, the same thing you have for every meal.
"C'mere, sweetie. Gotta earn your treats." Fitz chuckles lowly, spreading his legs apart as he opens his belt. He pulls the zipper of his jeans down, and quickly exposes his half-hard cock. The stench hits you before you even dare to move. It's absolutely foul, like sour milk and onions. You apprehensively make your way over, crawling on your hands and knees. You repress a gag, tears stinging your eyes at the effort. You sit yourself before him, watching as he peers down at you while stroking himself. "Open wide, honey." He orders, his breath catching at the anticipation of your 'payment'.
"Alright." You reply blankly, reluctantly taking him in your hand. You choke back another gag, trying so very hard not to throw up all over the place. You got a beating from Tommy that almost put you in the hospital last time. You do everything in your power to ignore the smell, bringing your face closer to him. It only grows stronger, but you soldier on anyway. You have to, there's no backing out now. Fitz isn't one to shy away from hitting another man's woman. You force your mouth open, and take his meager three inches past your lips in entirety. The taste is even worse than the smell, the worst possible thing you've ever put inside your mouth. It's what you imagine the flavor of death is.
"That's the stuff." Fitz sighs in satisfaction, settling further into the chair as you work. Tears of anguish stream down your face, but they only seem to add to the wretched man's thrill. You wish you weren't doing this. You wish you hadn't stayed with Tommy and married him. You wish you could get out of this house, have the life you truly want. But most of all, you wish you could just die. Have Tommy beat you too hard, or take all the drugs on that table at the same time. Hell, even a kitchen knife across your wrists would be good enough. You want this to end, this is no way to live. This existence is absolute hell.
You wake up just before 'Fitz' finishes, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. You sit up in bed, looking around your room to realize none of it was real. You're safe in your bed, in your house, with Eddie snoring beside you. "Oh, thank fuck." You whisper, sighing in relief. You wipe your hands down your face, trying to shove that awful fake life away. Flashes of Tommy hitting you, you snorting a line of coke off the coffee table, and servicing the large drug dealer blink rapidly through your mind. It felt so real, like you were truly trapped in a life you never wanted. You can still see, feel, hear, smell, taste everything as you experienced it in your dream. And it makes you completely sick to your stomach.
You dash out of bed, going to the bathroom to throw up. You don't mean to make a lot of noise, but both doors you need to get through slam against their respective walls in your race against your own stomach. You fall to your knees on the tiles in front of the toilet, regurgitating your pizza into the bowl. You grip the sides of the seat until you finish, hoping that you'll feel a little better afterwards. "Y/N?" You hear Eddie say groggily in the doorway of the bathroom. You're still not quite done yet, and he flicks the light switch to see what's going on. He groans at the sudden brightness, rubbing his eyes. He blinks to adjust to the light, and he finds you crouching on the floor while you vomit. "Oh, sweetheart." He tuts, kneeling next to you.
He rubs your back gently until you're done. He hopes you're not sick, you've got to work tomorrow. But not only that, you've been through enough as it is. Your stomach mercifully empties, and you slump against the wall. "Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." You say softly, wiping your mouth. You still don't feel very well, but it could just be from the nightmare. Being up in the middle of the night like this usually makes you feel a bit sickly, too, for some strange reason.
"It's alright, princess. How are you feeling? Did something happen?" He asks, fully sitting across from you on the floor now. He's only dressed in his boxers, but he doesn't really care if Mom or Dustin see him like this. All he cares about is making sure you're okay.
"Yeah, I had a nightmare. But, what else is new?" You let out a dry laugh, rolling your eyes at yourself.
"What was it about?" He questions.
"Tommy. We were still together...and we got married." You start, which makes Eddie's eyes widen. "Believe me, it definitely wasn't a happy relationship. He was...abusive. And I started doing drugs, I essentially lived the way Chrissy was." You say softly, a couple hot tears escaping your eyes at the thought. "But you weren't there. It was a different dealer...and not a nice one, either." You let out a small sob, trying to hold it back. You're so goddamn tired of crying all the time. Just once, you'd like to be strong and keep it together. But your eyes have other plans.
"I'm so sorry, angel. C'mere." He puts his arms out for you, and you clumsily shove yourself against his chest. You bury your head in his neck, staining his flesh with salty tears and saliva as you cry into him. He holds you close, your legs tangling haphazardly with his. It's far from a comfortable position for either of you, but that doesn't really matter at the moment. Your arms cling to him, your hands spreading wide across his back to feel as much of him as possible. "It's okay, love. I'm right here, you're gonna be okay." He coos to you, rocking you back and forth in a soothing manner. You stay like this for a while, gradually feeling less sick as time passes. You still feel pretty scared, and dread getting through the day. "Let's get you back to bed, baby." Eddie says, signaling for you to get up.
"Okay." You whimper, not wanting to go back to sleep. You're so tired, and you know you need the rest. But the possibility of going back to the awful place you found yourself in, you can't risk that. You stand up, going to the sink to rinse out your mouth. You turn on the faucet, scooping the tasteless liquid to your lips. You swish it around thoroughly, and spit it out. Much better. You take Eddie's hand, letting him lead you back into bed. He lays you down as nicely as he can, his touch so loving and light. It's a stark contrast from how Tommy was touching you, and you can't help crying some more at the reminder.
"Is there anything I can do, princess?" Eddie asks sadly, wishing he could ease your troubled mind. He doesn't know what to do, it's not like he can reach inside your head and take all the bad things away.
"Just hold me, Eds. Please." You sniffle. He does as you ask, bringing you closer to lay your head on his chest. His arm keeps you close, his hand whispering up and down your back. Arwen picks up on your sadness, wriggling her way into your cuddling to put herself beside you. She purrs loudly, the sound vibrating through your torso to calm you. You stroke her fur, her eyes falling closed in kitty bliss.
"I love you, sweetheart. And I'll stay up with you all night if I need to, 'kay?" Eddie whispers, his throat stinging as he holds back his own tears. It's not fair, she shouldn't have to go through this. I feel so helpless, because I can't make it all go away. She deserves to be happy, we deserve to be happy. I know she can't take much more of this, even though she'd never say it. I only hope this stupid trial won't break her. I can't bear to see my sweet girl disappear.
"I love you too, Eddie. I just wish we could be happy, without some bullshit coming along and messing it all up every few weeks. It's like we're fuckin' cursed or something." You groan in frustration, still crying a little as sadness morphs into anger.
"I know, angel. I wish so, too." He replies, a deep sigh escaping his lungs.
"Are you okay, love?" You ask, noticing he's stiffened up a little underneath you.
"No. It breaks my heart to see you in so much pain, Y/N. And I hate that I can't really do anything about it." He answers honestly, staring up at the ceiling.
"You're doing what you can, Eds. And it means everything to me that you care so much." You reply, leaving Arwen for a moment to caress Eddie's chest.
"I know, baby. I just一...wish I could do more." He sniffs, and you look up at his face in the pale moonlight. He's biting his lip to keep it from trembling, almost drawing blood. His eyes are glassy and sad, brows drawn downwards as he fights back against his tears.
You lift yourself up slightly, putting your head above his own. "You're doing more than enough, I promise. I couldn't ask for a better man to stand with through all of this." You press your lips to his, showing him genuine appreciation for always loving and supporting you every single day. Your mouths move tenderly against one another, shuddering sighs spilling through the gaps as you cry silently together. Arwen squirms away, tired of being squished now. She curls up on the end of the bed, settling back into her slumber.
You continue to kiss for a while, just gently moving your mouths together. There's no teeth or tongues coming into play, now isn't the time to heat things up. You both only want the closeness and intimacy that comes with being so deeply in love. You eventually pull away when your lips get tired, and you return your head to his chest. You listen to his heart beating in your ear, a little faster than its usual rhythm. But as you both lie here, you hear it slowly return to its normal pace. You drift off again at some point, lulled into a dreamless sleep by the steady beat, and the radiating warmth you share with Eddie in your bed.
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Part 29.2: Chains of Love
Thursday, July 27th, 1989
You wake up again to the smell of pancakes, and you hear Mom coming down the hallway to your room. She knocks on the door. "Sugarpuff?" She asks as you rub your eyes.
"Come in." You reply, and she opens the door while holding the fold-up bed trays she keeps for special occasions. Stacks of pancakes with sides of hash browns and crispy bacon sit upon them, with a glass of orange juice beside each plate. "Wake up, Eds." You nudge Eddie with your elbow, needing him to sit up so Mom can put the food down. You're unsure how she even got the door open with her hands full.
"Hmm?" He asks, squinting his eyes as he sits up.
"I heard you crying last night. So I figured I'd make you some breakfast in bed to cheer you up." Mom says, carefully setting the trays over your laps.
"Thanks, Mom." You smile weakly, though you'll happily accept this delicious food. You're absolutely starving.
"Thank you, Claudia." Eddie adds, still waking up.
"Of course. Is there anything else I can do?" She asks, clasping her hands together expectantly. You'd woken her up last night in your rush to the toilet, and she was going to check on you until she heard Eddie speak. She laid awake in bed, hearing you tell him about your nightmare. You didn't give a lot of details, but you didn't really need to. What little information you gave made her heart ache terribly. To know that you dream of such awful things all the time, she wishes you didn't have to suffer so much. You're her sweet little girl, deserving of all the happiness in the world and more.
"No, we'll be okay." You kindly insist, wanting some time to wake up and eat before you and Eddie have to get ready for work.
"Okay. Just call if you need me." She says, closing the door when she leaves.
"How are you feeling, sweetheart?" Eddie asks as he cuts into his pancakes. The cutlery squeaks against the plate, and he loads up his fork with the syrup-soaked stack of slices.
"A lot better. I don't know how today's gonna go, though." You reply, and he gives you a look.
"You don't have to go in today if you're not up for it. I'm sure Biggs would understand." He offers, putting a hand on your thigh over the blanket.
"No, no. I've got too much work to do. And you know me, I need the distraction." You sigh, digging into the hot meal Mom's made for you.
"Do you? I feel like 'distraction' is usually code for 'ignore the issue entirely'." Eddie says seriously, still glancing at you repeatedly as you both eat.
"I'm not ignoring anything, Eddie. I can't if we're going to win this thing." You say in annoyance. He's not wrong to assume, but you really aren't trying to hide away this time. "I'm just saying that I need a break every so often, instead of fixating on Tommy and the trial 24/7." You explain, taking a large bite of hashbrowns into your mouth.
"You're right. I'm sorry, I'm not meaning to get on your case." He says apologetically, drawing your eyes to him.
"It's fine, I get it. I don't usually cope very well. But I swear, I'm not gonna put up the walls this time." You reply as you chew.
"Okay. Good." Eddie smiles, loading up his fork again. The two of you finish eating your breakfast, talking casually about anything else you can think of. You're going to be doing more than enough discussion on the tender subject with Murray later on. There's no reason to keep dwelling on it now. You return your dirty dishes to the kitchen, setting them in the sink. And then you proceed to get ready for the day. First, a nice hot shower, with Eddie tenderly licking between your legs as you claw at the steam-frosted tile. Then, the two of you dress, playfully tickling and pinching one another while you fasten your shirt buttons and tuck the tails into your slacks. And lastly, a short cuddle with Arwen for good measure. By the time you leave the house, you're both in an extraordinarily great mood.
Your shift at the theater goes swimmingly, every showing going on without a hitch. No customer complaints, no employee disagreements or call-ins. It's a perfect day, which under most circumstances means there's something waiting to come along and fuck it all up. You refuse to focus on such a thought. You've got far too much lovey-dovey bliss rushing through your veins to pay any mind to the notion.
Lunch rolls around, and you gleefully pull Eddie into the supply closet for some fun. You repay him for the glorious head he bestowed upon you in the shower, which quickly turns into him yanking your pants down and taking you from behind as you bend over a stack of heavy boxes containing imitation butter. He spends the entire time he's inside you speaking seductively in your ear. Showering you with praises, telling you how much he loves you, how you're totally perfect in every possible way. Every single syllable warms your heart, as well as makes you completely drenched for him. It doesn't take long for you both to cum, loudly and messily, four sweaty hands digging into the thick cardboard you're pressed against.
"Fuck, baby...that was so good." You pant, with Eddie still covering your body with his until you come down from your highs. You swallow thickly, letting out a tired sigh afterwards.
"Sure was, sweetheart." Eddie replies, pressing a searing kiss of admiration to your exposed neck. He got a little overeager opening up your shirt, the top button has come a little loose. Nothing a little sewing can't fix.
You check your watch, noticing you only have a couple minutes left of your break. You tap Eddie's arm, needing him to pull out. "We gotta get back, Eds." You say, though you don't necessarily want to leave this spot.
"Whatever you say, boss." He quips, lifting himself off of you. He gently puts his hands on your waist, and slowly slides his dick out of your spent cunt. You whine quietly at the loss, your mixed release running down your thigh. "Lemme clean you up, princess." He says, going over to the open case of napkins. He takes a couple from the box, quickly coming back to you to wipe the cum away before it drips onto your pants that are gathered around your ankles.
"Thank you, love." You say in appreciation. You stand upright, pulling your slacks and panties back over your lower half. Eddie puts himself away, adjusting awkwardly as he hasn't gone soft just yet. He puts his arms around your middle, giving you a few more kisses on your throat. You sigh, tilting your head to the side to give him better access. You can't resist his sweet charms whenever they come out to play. They're so addictive, sending your heart aflutter like a hummingbird. But as much as you'd like the inevitable round two that will surely come from this heated moment, you really need to get back to work. "Baby, c'mon. We gotta go." You protest breathlessly, which tells him that you don't really mean it.
"You really want me to stop, angel?" He asks, his breath fanning against your skin. He bites down on you a second later, worrying your flesh to leave a deep purple hickey in his wake. You moan at the sensation, seriously weighing your options for a second. It would be so easy to keep the good times rolling, to squeeze as much delightful pleasure out of today as you possibly can. But you have a decent amount of work to do before the day is over, and you'd hate to get caught in here after being gone so long.
"You know damn well that I don't, Eddie. But we can't stay here all day, as much as I'd love to." You say in a frustrated tone. The idea of returning to schedules and inventory sheets when you have this gorgeous man worshiping you makes you want to scream. "Pick this up later?" You offer as he stops marking your neck.
"I guess." He whines, pulling away from you. He pouts at you to hide his smile, crossing his arms.
"Ugh, you're such a brat sometimes." You laugh, rolling your eyes at his goofiness.
"Only for you, babydoll." He smirks when you turn to face him.
"You're lucky I think it's cute." You button up your blouse again, and give Eddie a brief kiss before you both leave the closet. He playfully smacks your ass when you walk past him, drawing a small yelp from you. "Don't push your luck, Eds." You warn, continuing your journey to the back office to fill out some papers.
"Sorry, princess. I'll behave." Eddie answers, fear of losing his chance to play with you later staining his voice.
"Good boy." You say with a grin, effectively dismissing him to return to concessions for the rest of the shift. Only four hours left, and then you can take him home and have your way with him. You're definitely gonna need it if you're going to sit through Murray grilling you about Tommy all night.
"Alright, that was great. Let's take a little break, and then we'll go over it again." Murray says as you finish practicing the defense cross-examination for the third time. You've been at this for a couple hours, with Bauman grilling you with semi-invasive questions. He sure knows how to lay on the sleaze, getting you to understand what you're really up against. Tommy's legal team won't pull any punches, they're gonna go right for the jugular to make you emotional, or get you to misspeak. There is no room for error, as it's unfortunately their job to get the jury to believe that you deserve everything Tommy has done to you.
"Okay." You say with a soft sigh. You feel a couple tears trickling down your face, though you've managed to keep them in until you were finished answering the practice questions.
"You okay, sweetheart?" Eddie asks, taking hold of your hand as he sits beside you on the couch. You would be seated in his lap, but Murray insisted that you need to focus. You suppose he's right, Eddie's touches can be a bit...distracting.
"Yeah." You nod, exhaling shakily. You wipe your eyes, and take a deep breath.
"Alright. Lemme get you some water, 'kay?" He offers, getting to his feet.
"Thanks, Eds." You give him a weak smile, trying to ignore the pounding pain inside your head. The loss of sleep is definitely catching up to you, despite Eddie's best efforts to make you feel better today. Things were really going well, storage closet sex and all. But the second Murray walked through your doorway for the second time, the mood quickly shifted. It's heavy, suffocating. It's like a dense fog has settled inside your chest.
"Here ya go, baby." He coos when he returns with an ice cold glass. You happily take it, and he extends his other hand. He opens his palm, revealing two Tylenol inside it. "These, too." He smiles kindly at you, he can tell your head is starting to hurt. He always knows exactly what your needs are, even when you try to hide them.
"Thanks." You take the pills from his hand, popping them into your mouth. You gulp half the glass to wash them down.
"You need anything else, Y/N?" He asks sweetly, sitting back down. He scoots himself a little closer, putting his arm around your shoulders.
"No, love. I appreciate it. You're always so sweet." You reply, setting your cup down on the coffee table and leaning closer to him.
"Only for you, princess." He says lowly, resisting the urge to kiss your neck. He's already in the doghouse with Murray from his poor impression yesterday. And he's gleaned that the man is not one for PDA from that interaction.
You can hear the subtle need in his voice, the light rasp in his tone. It's not a selfish need, either. You can definitely tell the difference between him wanting pleasure for himself, and when he just wants to please you. He's already been so giving today, you'd hate to get greedy. But the way his words brush warmth against your flesh like slick oil paint, you find yourself having a hard time protesting his want. "How long until we go through it all again, Murray?" You ask subtly, holding off on biting your lip and bobbing your knee.
"Uh, just a few minutes. Not nearly enough time for what loverboy over there is asking for." Murray answers, smashing your pretense away like a frail mirror.
"Whatever, man. I need a smoke." Eddie scoffs at the man's lack of discretion. He doesn't like being read so easily, especially by a stranger. It's honestly freaking him out, as well as pissing him off. He gets off the couch, storming off for the door and leaving you behind. He opens it, stepping out into the humid afternoon, and shuts it just a bit too hard.
"Was that really necessary, Murray?" You ask, leaning back against the couch while crossing your arms.
"Pardon me if I don't want to hear you two...canoodling while I'm within the confines of your home, Y/N. Besides, I can tell you've gotten plenty of action today already. Could see it the second I walked in the door." He answers, as if it's the most normal thing in the world to say to you.
"You're a pig." You spit back. This man may be your lawyer, but he has no right to talk to you like this.
"Oh, spare me! I've been called far worse, sweet-cheeks!" He exclaims. "Look, I get that you two love each other. It's sweet, really. To have someone always be there for you is a precious thing. But you're clinging to him, as he is to you." Murray continues in a sarcastic-sweet tone, reading your relationship like an open book. "Under normal circumstances, that wouldn't necessarily be a problem. But because you two have gone through so much, and will continue to do so for the foreseeable future, you haven't had a chance to level out yet. I take it you two barely spend a decent amount of time apart, right?" He asks, but his expression tells you he already knows what your answer is.
"I mean, I guess." You answer shyly, shrugging your shoulders. You pick at your nail beds, avoiding the man's gaze.
"Right. You go to each other for constant comfort. You both depend on the other being there one-hundred percent of the time. And I'm telling you right now, two things will happen if you keep up like this. One, you're going to royally fuck up this trial. And two, your relationship is going to fizzle out when it doesn't need to." He finishes, dipping his head down to give you a serious look. "You're a smart girl, Y/N. You know I'm not wrong." Your pupils flick to his, and you hate to admit it, but he's right. You honestly cannot think of a night in the last couple weeks where you slept in your separate beds. And you certainly can't recall a single day in your entire relationship where you went without seeing one another at all.
"I guess you could be right." You reply, which makes him smirk. But you keep talking. Regardless of how right he is, there needs to be some boundaries here. "But you don't have to be so rude to Eddie, either. He hasn't done anything to you, and he is also your client. He's sweet, and kind, and he takes care of me. I appreciate your help and everything, but I'd like it if you wouldn't make so many remarks towards him." You sit up straight, showing him that you're also quite serious.
"Fair enough. I'll quit disparaging your little Casanova, and you two are gonna learn to live separated from the hip. Deal?"
"Deal. I'll go talk to him." You say, giving him an agreeable nod. You go outside to find Eddie leaned against the house with a smoke between his lips. "You okay, Eds?" You ask, going over to him. He fishes out a cig for you, and you gratefully accept it.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He sighs, flicking the lighter for you. You lean into the flame to start the burn, inhaling a large dose of nicotine. "He just...bugs the hell outta me. Ya know?" He says in annoyance, scrunching his face slightly.
"I know, baby. But we had a little talk, and we've come to an agreement. He said he'll stop being so rude, if we...distance ourselves a little bit." You end slowly, knowing Eddie's going to have a hard time accepting this idea.
"What?" He asks accusingly. He's ready to fight that bald fucker at this point. Who does he think he is, putting that kind of idea in your head?
"He said that we cling to each other too much. Mostly because we've been through so much together. And I think he's right." You speak cautiously, trying not to start a fight.
"So, what does that mean?" He questions in a bratty tone. He doesn't like this one bit. He loves you, he needs you. Does this mean you don't feel the same?
"It just means that we need to breathe. Like, sleep in our own beds half the time. And be comfortable being apart for a day, or more." His eyes widen at your words, it feels like his entire world is ending. You take his free hand with your own, gazing into his eyes. "Eddie, I love you more than anything in the world, okay? But Murray is right. We're holding on to each other so tight, we'll eventually suffocate ourselves. This doesn't mean we're over, far from it. We need to do this to keep us together, and in order to win the trial." You put yourself directly in front of him, bringing your lips to his to give him a loving kiss.
He resists at first, wanting to reject this idea, to tell Murray he's full of shit. But hearing the way you've put it, he knows you're right. He doesn't want to lose you, or jeopardize a victory in court. So, he'll do everything he can to keep those things from happening. Even if he hates it. He melts into you, moving his mouth languidly against yours. You slip your tongue into his mouth, and he quickly picks up the pace. He lets go of your hand to cradle your head, keeping you close. "Mmm." He hums against you.
"Are we all set to go?" Murray says as he comes outside to retrieve you. He realizes what you two are doing, loudly clearing his throat. You freeze up for a moment, before pulling away.
"Uh, yeah. Sorry." You blush, backing further away from Eddie to distance yourself.
"It's alright. I didn't expect an immediate change." Murray replies kindly, heading back into the house. You follow behind him, with Eddie trailing along as well after tossing your cigs away. You take your seats on the couch again, and Murray sits in his chair and picks up his papers. "Okay. Let's start again."
"Alright." You sigh, not really wanting to do this again. But you aren't ready yet, far from it. You need to run these questions like drills, repeating them over and over until you know them all by heart. It's like studying for a test, and Murray is your flashcards. You know you can do this, and it'll all be worth it in the end. Eventually, you'll be able to answer these questions succinctly, and without feeling like you want to cry every five seconds. You've got this.
You cycle through the questions, not missing a beat when you answer them. One after another, you knock them down like pins at the end of a bowling lane. There's no more tears this time, during this round or afterwards. You're getting the hang of it, though the questions themselves still infuriate you on the inside. But that's to be expected. "That was great. I think we've made a lot of progress today. We should have it nailed down tomorrow, and then we can start on you, Eddie." Murray says, packing up for the night.
"Cool." Eddie replies flatly, still somewhat sulking from your little talk earlier.
"I hope you'll have a better attitude than that, kid. Acting like a jackass will get you nowhere in a courtroom." Murray warns while looking down at his papers.
You can see Eddie's about to blow up at him, so you put a hand on his arm to calm him down. His gaze snaps to you, anger flashing in his eyes. "Eddie, please. You can't be so quick to get mad like this. How do you expect to get on the stand and answer Tommy's lawyer's questions, if you're already so bothered by our own lawyer trying to help you?" You find yourself conflicted in your feelings. You understand why Eddie's so resistant to all of this. But he's going to fuck it up for both of you if he doesn't cool off. You take his hands in yours now, scooting closer to him. "Baby, I love you. But I need you to try to calm down, and think rationally about this." You give him the kindest look imaginable, hoping your gentleness will put out the flames of rage he's stoking.
"I'll try." He says with a sigh, unable to defy you. He’s aware how important this is, especially to you. You need him on his best behavior. Better than his best behavior, if one's being honest. It's going to be a challenge for him, he's always been a bit of a hot-head. But he'll put in the work, for you.
"I appreciate it, love." You give him a small smile, and he attempts to return it. But it falls away as quickly as it came.
"Well, I'm gonna head out for the night. I'll see you both tomorrow." Murray says, promptly getting up to leave. He lets himself out the front door, taking some of the negative energy with him. Things are still a bit tense, though. And you're not really sure how to diffuse it, as it's mainly radiating out of your boyfriend now.
"So, what should we do now?" You ask. There's still a couple hours left of the night before you should get to bed. You could watch a movie, or go for a short drive...or just simmer in silence.
"I think I'm gonna go home." Eddie answers, standing up from the couch. The loss of his weight on the cushion beside you sends an anxious pang through your chest. You somehow feel like you've done something wrong. Or that he's mad at you. You can't tell, you can't exactly read him as he walks down the hall to your room. Probably to retrieve his things. You apprehensively get up to follow him, walking on eggshells until you reach your bedroom.
"I'm sorry." You say weakly as you lean in the doorway. Eddie's packing his things in his bag, ignoring Arwen as she weaves between his legs. She meows at him for love and attention, but none comes.
"For what?" He asks flatly, tossing his pajamas into his duffle bag. He doesn't look at you, zipping the bag closed after his question.
"I...I don't know. I feel like you're mad at me." You answer honestly.
"I'm not." He says, putting his bag over his shoulder. He finally looks at you, and he forces his expression to soften. He sighs when he sees you nervously biting your lip, coming over to you. "Sweetheart, I promise I'm not mad at you, alright? I just...this is all a pretty big adjustment. I don't want to sleep in my bed without you. I don't want to answer Murray's stupid questions over and over. I honestly don't want to do any of this shit. I will still do all of these things anyway, because I love you. But it isn't exactly easy for me." He doesn't hold back, telling you precisely how he feels about all of this. You appreciate the honesty, but you hate to see him so upset about it. Maybe you're asking too much.
"Okay." You nod, heat building behind your eyes. Your mouth twitches to the side, the little thing you do to stop yourself from crying. Eddie notices it immediately, and drops his bag down for a second.
"Angel, c'mere." He pulls you into him, wrapping his arms around you. You nuzzle into his neck while grabbing onto him, and the tears come flooding down.
"I don't want you to go." You weep, though it's a bit muffled.
"I don't want to either, Y/N. But you're right, we have to be able to do this. We're not kids anymore, we haven't been for a while. It's just one night. But it's gonna be fine, we'll see each other tomorrow." He replies, giving you a warm squeeze. He clamps his eyes shut, not wanting to let you go. This is too hard. How is he supposed to sleep without you by his side?
"It just sucks." You say through a hiccuping breath.
"I know it does, princess." He keeps holding you close, delaying the inevitable. At some point here you're going to have to say goodbye. It seems so silly, this shouldn't be so hard for you. When you're so used to seeing one another almost every second of every day, it's difficult to change habits. It's hard to let go a little, to spend time away. But it's what's needed, and probably has been needed for a long time. Because now you're so dependent on being together all the time, that it's painful to do such a normal, adult thing. It'll be quite a challenge for you, but you know your love will be even stronger for it. "It's time for me to go, babydoll." He says after a long period of silence.
"I know." You reply, still trying to tame your tears. You slowly pull away, and your arms cross over yourself as an odd way to still feel like you're being held. Eddie picks up his bag, and you quietly walk him to the door. Your throat and chest ache, and more trickles of salty water flow down your cheeks. He opens the door, and you both stand between it and the outside for a second.
"I love you, Y/N. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" He says softly, his eyes glassy and red.
"I love you too, Eddie." You stutter out the words, fighting with yourself to keep from breaking down again. Why is this so hard? It's not like he's going away forever. He leans in to give you a kiss goodnight, and you hungrily take it. He even slips his tongue in your mouth, in an attempt to leave a piece of himself with you. He backs away far too soon, and you can feel the hesitation in him removing his lips from yours.
"It'll be okay." He cups your cheek, planting another quick kiss on your forehead. Your eyes fall closed at his warmth, forcing more tears out. "Goodnight, sweetheart." He whispers, turning to head out to his van.
"'Night." You say as a lump forms in your throat, closing the door quickly before he can hear you lose control. You lean against the barrier between you, sobbing as you hear the driver's side door open and shut, and the engine turning over. You listen to him pull out of the driveway, and roll down the road. You slide downward to the floor, curling up into yourself. You hate this, you can feel him getting further and further away by the second. Your body is acting like the entire world is crumbling, falling into the abyss and taking you with it.
"Y/N, what's wrong?" Mom asks when she comes out to the living room. She finds you on the floor, crying loud and hard as you hold your knees into your chest. You don't say anything, she'll just think you're being childish. Hell, you know that's how you're acting right now. But you can't help it. Eddie is your everything, the first real man in your life that makes you not so lost in this big crazy world. "Sugarpuff? What is it? Is it Eddie?" She asks in concern, coming over to sit on the floor with you. You nod against your knees, still unable to speak. "Did you have a fight? Or break up?" She continues. You shake your head no, but you don't want to have to explain your immature feelings to her. "Then what's wrong? You can tell me, sweetie. You know I'm here for you." She puts a hand on your back, stroking you gently over your shirt.
"It's stupid." You mumble, shaking your head again. You just want to be left alone until you pry yourself off the floor and crawl into your cold bed.
"Y/N, I'm sure it's not. You're no dummy. So, come on. Tell mama what's wrong." She carefully pulls your cocooned body open, bringing your upper half towards her. She leans you against her chest, allowing you to tell her everything without meeting her eyes.
"It's just...Murray said me and Eddie cling to each other too much. He said it could mess up the trial, and hurt our relationship. And I know he's right. So we're going to try sleeping in our own beds alone for a while, and not spend every single day together." You pause to gather yourself. "And I know it shouldn't be so hard. But I hate being without him, Mom. I just love him so much, it hurts to be apart." You explain tearfully, hiccuping through your words.
"I understand, sugarpuff. Your father and I were like that in the beginning. We couldn't go without seeing each other for more than an hour!" She says with a nostalgic laugh. "It's just what young people in love go through. You fall for someone, you want to be with them every second of every day. But at a certain point, there comes a time where you both need space every once in a while. Being together all the time makes you sick of each other after so long. That's what happened to us, I'm afraid." She says solemnly.
"I know. I just hate this. I get that it's the normal, healthy thing to do. But it's gonna take a while to stop hurting so much." You sniffle, wiping your eyes as the tears finally start to dry up.
"And that's okay, sugarpuff. It's an adjustment, and I wouldn't expect either of you to be happy about it. It'll be better for your relationship in the long run. I promise." She speaks comfortingly, placing a kiss on top of your head. "I love you, kiddo."
"I love you too, Mom. Thanks for not making me feel stupid." A smile forms on your face, you're so lucky to have your mom. She's always here for you no matter what, and you're eternally grateful for that. "I should get to bed, I've got work in the morning." You say, and the two of you get off the floor together.
"That sounds like a good idea. Goodnight, sugarpuff." She gives you a brief hug, not wanting to suffocate you with her love.
"’Night, Mom." You go back down the hall to your room, swallowing another lump that pops up at Eddie’s absence. "It's gonna be fine." You reassure yourself, closing the door and removing your clothes. You put on Eddie's Hellfire shirt, a pitiful substitute for the real thing. You flick off the light switch and crawl under the covers. Arwen hops up and pads over to you, before curling up at your side. "Hey, little one. I'm sorry daddy didn't say goodbye to you. But I'm sure he'll give you extra cuddles tomorrow to make up for it." You say sweetly to her, but all it does is remind you that Eddie isn't here right now. You let the tears fall, but you keep your body still and calm. It's the only way you're going to be able to truly rest.
You stroke Arwen's soft fur, soothing yourself with her warm purrs. You wonder if she feels the emptiness too. She's a smart cat, so she probably does. She moves closer towards your face, even going so far as to lick a couple of your tears away. Her sandpaper tongue scrapes against your cheek, making you giggle. She's such a sweet little thing, and so in tune with you and Eddie. You slowly cease your petting, and slip your hand beneath the blanket. You close your eyes, and wait for sleep to take you into its welcoming embrace.
Unfortunately for you, your worst fear about this new arrangement is coming to fruition. You cannot sleep. You don't feel even remotely tired. Your safety net is gone, your comfort, your love. He's miles away, no doubt laying restless in his own bed. You gaze out of the window, finding the big bright moon staring back at you. Its face appears rather downturned tonight, sharing in your sorrow. You're about to squeeze your eyes shut and force yourself to sleep, when you hear the phone ringing in the living room. Eddie.
You dash out of bed, running as quietly down the hall as you can. You don't want to disturb Mom or Dustin, but you long to hear Eddie's voice more than anything in the world. You snatch the phone up on the final ring, breathing heavily into the headset. "Y/N?" You hear Eddie ask oddly.
"Yeah. Sorry...out of breath." You pant, begging your heart to stop pounding.
"That desperate to hear my voice, huh?" He asks with a chuckle.
"Hey! You're the one that called me in the middle of the night!" You retort, unable to hold back a giggle.
"Oh, it's hardly 'the middle of the night', Y/N. It's what, eleven-thirty?" He pauses, before speaking again. "I miss you." He says softly.
"I miss you too, my prince." You reply, sitting down in the chair by the phone.
"It's taking everything in me not to drive over there right now." He admits, feeling rather silly for wanting such a thing.
"I know, Eds. We're probably still feeding the habit by having this call." You observe, wondering if you should've just let the phone ring.
"Yeah...I just couldn't help myself. And I can't sleep. I had to hear your beautiful voice." He says, somewhat ashamed for giving in to his need for you so easily.
"I can't sleep either. Tomorrow is gonna be hell." You whine. You just know you're gonna be kicking yourself for staying up so late.
"You can say that again, sweetheart. But I should let you go, or else I'll talk to you until the sun comes up." He jokes, drawing a small laugh from both of you.
"Okay. Goodnight, my love." You say, feeling a lot better after this small conversation. It's a reminder that you aren't alone in this, that everything is going to be fine. Eddie loves you, and cares for you, and you're both on the same page as always. You're even starting to feel a little sleepy, having found some comfort from hearing his voice again.
"Goodnight, princess. Sleep well." He says, fighting off a yawn afterwards. You hang up the phone, and go back to your bed. Your steps feel heavy, and you're actually happy to be snuggled up under your covers. You give Arwen one last little pat, and take the trip to dreamland shortly afterwards.
You spend the entire night dreaming about Eddie, doing all the things you love to do together. Driving around town, cigarettes in hand as you sing along to the blasting stereo. Cuddling on your couch, watching one of your favorite movies. Making out halfway through said movie since you can't keep your hands off each other. But most of all, you find your dream self in bed with him. Kissing, touching, fucking...with a symphony of moans and whimpers to really bring it to life. It feels so real, and pleasurable sensations roll over your body while you sleep.
Dream Eddie clings to you while he grinds his hips against yours, digging his cock deeper and deeper into your pussy. You're dripping with sweat, letting out beautifully vulgar noises between starving kisses. Your nails claw into his back, needing to keep him as close to you as possible. You beg him not to stop, telling him just how good he feels inside you. He promises to never stop fucking you, to make you cum again and again until you can't take it anymore. He nibbles on your neck, and grips your thighs firmly to keep you in place. He uses the perfect speed and rhythm, and full range of motion to hit your g-spot at all the right angles. You cry out his name as your high takes you over, the pleasure so lifelike that your panties become soaked as you lay unconscious in your bed.
Friday, July 28th, 1989
You go into work the next morning, hoping to find Eddie in the breakroom before you start your shift. You put your purse inside your shared locker, and feel two large hands slipping over your waist from behind you. "Happy five month anniversary, angel." Eddie hums as he presses a smoldering kiss to your neck. You instantly melt at his touch, tilting your head to the side to let him in further.
"Mmm, you remembered." You smirk. His lips on your throat remind you of your dream last night, and the evidence of arousal you found between your legs this morning.
"Of course, baby. How could I forget?" He rasps, nipping your neck a little harder than usual. You moan quietly at the sting, pressing yourself backwards into him. He groans against you, his hands squeezing your hips hungrily. "You wanna meet me in the storage room at lunch to get your present?" He asks, unable to hide his excitement. His pants appear to be doing a poor job of that as well.
"It's a date, Eds. I was dreaming about you...all night. I woke up absolutely soaked." You tease him with your words, pulling away once you hear Mr. Biggs' heavy footsteps approaching. Eddie's breath hitches at your filthy admission, which he quickly disguises as a cough once your boss walks in.
"Morning, you two. How's the preparation for the trial going?" Biggs asks cordially.
"Oh, um...it's g-going great!" You struggle to string the words together, Eddie's hand has managed to slip behind your back to grab a hearty handful of your ass. You try to pass off your yelp of surprise as enthusiasm about your preparedness for the trial. Biggs curls an eyebrow at you curiously, before dismissing your somewhat odd behavior as stress-related.
"Wonderful. I look forward to testifying for your side. Do you have the inventory finished for me?" He asks, moving the subject to work now.
"Almost, I just need a recount on the popcorn buckets." You reply, going to the desk in the office to retrieve your clipboard.
"Excellent. I'll be here when you're finished. I've got some special tasks for you today." Biggs says, effectively dismissing you until later.
"Sounds great." You smile, leaving the room with Eddie close behind.
"Well, looks like you've got a long day ahead of you, boss. I'll see you at lunch?" Eddie says, leaning in to give you a quick peck on the lips.
"I'm looking forward to it, love." You give him a ravenous look, biting your lip slightly to let him know you'll be counting down the minutes until noon. His eyes bug a little at your expression, and he realizes that he's gonna be hard all goddamn day because of you.
You both go your separate ways, doing your damndest to stay on task until the time is right. It is a little difficult, as you catch one another's eye many times throughout your shift. Every time your pupils meet, it sends a flare of lust through your bodies. It takes everything in you not to run to each other and rip your clothes off in the middle of the lobby. You get a short reprieve when Eddie goes to the ticket booth, able to half-focus now. You fill out some paperwork in the office, working overtime to resist rubbing your thighs together in your chair. You just can't stop picturing Eddie in all your favorite positions, his face buried between your thighs, in particular.
You check your watch, finding that the time has finally come. You put your work aside for now, practically hopping out of your chair to go meet your boyfriend in the closet. You check to make sure no one is watching once you reach the door, and carefully slip inside. The light is off, which you assume means Eddie hasn't shown up yet. You suddenly hear the lock on the door click closed, and Eddie's lips attacking your neck from behind again. "You ready for your present, angel?" He asks darkly, his hand reaching around to undo the buttons on your blouse.
"Mm, yes. Do you mind turning the light on? I wanna see your gorgeous face while you fuck my brains out." You suggest, though this groping in the dark is pretty sexy.
"Anything for you, baby." He reaches back with one hand to flick the switch, and the dim overhead light comes on. He then reaches in his back pocket, retrieving a slender, rectangular box. He brings it into your view, presenting it on his palm. "For you." He says simply, waiting for you to open it.
"Oh, Eddie. You shouldn't have! I didn't get you anything." You say, half guilty, half excited. You'd previously agreed to no gifts besides sex, five months isn't exactly the most exciting milestone in a relationship.
"Being with you is more than enough for me, Y/N. Besides, I love to spoil my favorite girl." He coos, giving your throat another sizzling kiss. You decide to stop wasting time and open your present. You pull the black ribbon loose, and lift the lid to reveal what's inside. You gingerly pull open the red tissue paper, finding a stiff, silver vibrator nestled in it. "What do you think?" He asks.
"You're a dirty little fucker sometimes." You say with a laugh. You turn around to face him. "But I love it, Eds." You give him a warm kiss, which quickly turns into your tongues battling for dominance. He resumes his task of opening your shirt, leaving the last couple buttons fastened once your tits are exposed. He grabs the mounds of them roughly, massaging them in his huge hands.
"I'm glad you like it, baby. I figure you can use it whenever you miss me...or I can use it on you when we're together." He says as you break away.
"I'll definitely put it to good use, love. But right now, I just want you." You set the box down to pull his head closer to kiss him hard, and you clumsily reach for his belt to unbuckle it. You pull the leather through the loops in his slacks, unfastening the metal piece in the middle of the buckle from its set notch. The ends of the belt hang slack, letting you slide his zipper down its track. Your mouths work furiously against each other, desperate moans slipping through the cracks. You ferociously yank his pants and boxers down his thighs. His stiff cock slaps against his stomach, and you quickly take hold of it as he continues to kiss you and grope your chest.
"Fuck, baby." He groans, enamored by your hollowed fist stroking him.
"Mmm, yes, please." You joke. Eddie reaches for your own pants now, undoing the button and zipper just as easily. He pulls them down for you, along with your panties. He slips a hand between your legs, smearing the slick that's already gathered around your pussy. "Eddie." You whine as he rubs his middle finger around your clit. He pushes two digits inside of you, and proceeds to rapidly curl them. "I need you, baby. Right now...I-I can't wait." Intense need stains your voice, an orgasm growing alarmingly fast inside your belly.
"Don't have to tell me twice, angel. How do you want me?" He asks through groans and gasps. He wants you just as badly, anxious to feel your hot, wet cunt hugging him so damn tight.
"C'mere." You lead him backwards, both of you still riling each other up. You almost knock a stack of boxes along the way, but you have a set destination in mind. You stroke faster on Eddie's dick once your back meets the wall. He takes his fingers out of you, bringing them to his lips to suck them dry.
"Mmm, so sweet." He moans at the taste, gazing deep into your eyes. It distracts you both for a moment, but you quickly return to the task at hand.  "Put your pants around your ankles, baby." He instructs. You do as he asks, and he gently nudges your feet apart with his foot. He then ducks down underneath you, looping himself between your legs before standing upright. He picks you up, grasping your thighs. You take the hint and put your bound ankles against his back to keep him close. You both gaze between your bodies to watch as Eddie takes hold of his dick, giving it a couple needy strokes. He groans, and a drip of his precum falls from his cockhead to the floor. He brings his tip to your slick folds, teasing your both for a moment by dragging it back and forth. "God, you're drenched baby. You been thinkin' about me all day?" He asks, looking up to meet your eyes. He slips inside you as he waits for your answer.
"Oh, god." You gasp, gripping his shoulders tightly as he fills you up. You gulp in a breath, before answering his question. "Yes, I kept seeing you inside my head. You were doing all my favorite things." You say dizzily. He's barely done anything yet, and you're already falling apart.
"And what things would those be?" He questions lowly, smirking at you. He slowly pulls his length back, almost falling out, then slams back into your soaked pussy. You both groan loudly at the sensation, your eyes rolling back into your skulls for a moment.
"Kissing me...everywhere." You reply as Eddie sets a steady pace. His eyes are locked onto yours, enjoying the retelling of your vulgar daydreaming. "My lips, my tits, my pussy. Your mouth is so soft...and warm. I love the way it feels against my skin." You consistently moan as you speak, turning the pleasure dial to an eleven with every syllable.
"What else?" He wants you to continue, to tell him all the nasty things that cross your mind about him. He continues to thrust into you, taking his time to build you up.
"I thought about your hands, particularly your fingers, rubbing my clit, or pushing inside me. They're so long, and big...and they always make me so wet, love." You continue to give him all the dirty details, drawing aroused groans from him as you talk. "Mm, I love your noises, too. I can't get enough of knowing just how crazy I make you." He picks up the pace a little, increasing your pleasure even more. His pelvis slaps upwards against your ass, the sound reverberating in your ears. "Fuck." You mutter under your breath.
"Tell me more, Y/N. Please, I wanna hear all the slutty little things inside your head." He insists, almost begging. His hands grip harder on your thighs, and he's steadily pounding you into the wall.
"More than anything else, I was thinking about this...having your dick inside of me. You're the fuckin' perfect size, you always reach all the right places." You moan, growing closer to your high. You're sweating through your shirt, and you and Eddie are breathing so heavily in each other's faces. It's boiling hot in here, setting your bodies on fire.
"More, sweetheart." He huffs, shoving his face into your chest. He nips and sucks your cleavage, wanting to mark you with as many love bites as possible. He wants you to have something to look at when you're not with him, and remember that you belong to each other. But how could you ever possibly forget?
"I-I thought about riding you, with you clinging to me as you sit against the headboard...fuck." You describe the scene inside your mind for him.
"More." He commands desperately, the single word coming out muffled.
"I thought about you fucking me from behind, laying your body over mine...w-with your hand squeezing my throat." It takes everything in you to get the words out, watching Eddie ravenously devour your chest is certainly a sight to see. His dampened hair flicking about in its ponytail, the glimpses you catch of his plush lips and nibbling teeth coming into contact with your tits. It's like he's trying to worship and consume you all at the same time. And it's so fucking hot.
"I need more, angel...please." He begs with a whimper, letting you know he's getting close. And your rapid gasping and endless stream of expletives and moans tells him you're on the same path to bliss.
"Fuck me harder, Eds. And I'll tell you everything." You answer, your final syllable extending into a whine. He thrusts his hips faster, throwing as much of his weight upwards into you as he possibly can. "Oh, god! That's perfect, baby...such a good boy for me..." You praise, drawing his lust-blown eyes to you. He stops attacking your chest, focusing on listening to everything you say. He wants to hear it all, every possible thing you think and feel about him. And the loving, intense look in his eyes leaves you unable to hide a single bit of it from him. It reminds you of the first time you said 'I love you'. The daring stare into one another's pupils, challenging the other to chicken out. But you've got your claws dug so deep into each other, there's no conceivable way that will ever come to pass.
"C'mon, baby...j-just a little more. Tell me how much you love me." He pleads, shaky, sweaty breaths escaping him between words. He's an absolute mess for you, and you gladly reciprocate the carnal chaos.
"Someone's a needy little slut today." You tease, which only makes him drill faster into you. "Fuck! You're lucky I love it when you're rough with me." You smile as your orgasm quickly approaches. You cup his cheek in your hand, stroking his slightly stubbled flesh. "I love you more than anything in the world, baby. You're my first thought in the morning, and my last thought before I fall asleep. You're my everything, and I want to have you for the rest of my life. I want to marry you, and live with you, and build a home with you. I want it all, Eddie. Forever." You speak so emphatically, overwhelmed with emotion. He seems to feel it too, because he quickly presses his lips to yours. He forces his mouth to slow down, to show you just how much he understands and mutually reflects your devotion.
He continues to thrust with full force, his hips beginning the stutter. Your insides waver around him, and you sense your release threatening to roll over you any second now. You're so full of unyielding love and affection, practically bursting at the seams. You wrap your arms fully around his shoulders, pulling him even closer to you as you tenderly kiss. Your tongues dance passionately in a delicate tango, and your hearts ba-thump at meteoric speed. Eddie breaks away mere moments from reaching the end, needing to mirror your sentiment. "You took the words right outta my mouth, princess. I want forever with you, too. I love you...so much, Y/N." He gives you another hasty kiss, sealing your fates. Both in the sexual sense, as well as the life path you're traveling down together.
"Oh, god! Eddie!" You cry out, throwing your head back against the wall as your high takes you over. Your insides spasm around Eddie's dick, and you let out a long moan that must be loud enough to be heard in the lobby.
"Fuck." He manages to gasp out, his brow furrowing and mouth falling open as he falls over the edge himself. His hips buck clumsily, making you want to scream. You soak his cock like you always do, your juices spilling over him. His sticky load shoots into you to join the mix, and you both let out one final groan to signal the end of your little celebration. He keeps thrusting, but at a much slower speed now. Lazy, comfortable strokes that keep you close as you come back down to earth. "Happy anniversary, my love." He gives you an exhausted smile, still panting from all his effort.
"Happy anniversary, Eds. That was so perfect...we were perfect." You coo, giving him a peck of appreciation.
"Mm, I agree, sweetheart. I swear, we only get better every time." He swipes a damp strand of hair from your forehead, still making those sweet, gentle movements inside you. You really don't want to stop this, you two could stay in this position forever and ever. But you're no doubt over time for your break as it is, and Mr. Biggs will surely fire you if he catches you fucking on the job.
"We'd better get back, baby." You say regrettably. He nods, slowly pulling his still stiff length out of your cunt. A collective whine at the loss rings in the air, but this is far from the last time you'll have mind-blowing sex. You might even be able to get another round in after working with Murray tonight. You clean yourselves up a little, and put your clothes back on in their rightful places. "I'll see you later, okay? We can have dinner, and hang out for a bit after Murray leaves. How's that sound?" You offer, knowing he's still not keen on this whole 'separation' thing. Neither are you, far from it. But for both your sakes, you're going to make sure your relationship stands the test of time.
"Sounds perfect, Y/N. I'll see you in a bit." You exchange one last chaste kiss, and slip out of the closet individually to avoid being seen. You put your little present into your locker, and resume working like nothing happened. One thing is for sure, you absolutely cannot wait for round two.
To be continued...
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weirdestcornelius ¡ 4 months ago
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Okay, this is a serious topic
TW// CSA mentions
the first time i saw this eve drawing i thought of the worst
https(:)//f2(.)toyhou(.)se/file/f2-toyhou-se/images/66721462_7IZvNRJ16Dg3jmO.png
the tall adult-like shadowy figure, the now-saturated colors when eve is left crying alone terrified and shaking just made me thought if that shadow did something "cruel" to her. I even remember fans being truly confused and afraid when the piece was posted
for the first time i was afraid, even if i disliked eve. i was just thinking: what the hell is happening??
turns out it was just child sly abandoning her, and rn that kc posted about being a sa victim i just feel kinda relaxed. i dont think kc would EVER make this an issue in cc / sc, but holy fuck
i cannot think of the fandom taking a sa trauma seriously
Yeah, I saw that picture when I was rereading the toyhouse profiles and. I can see where the confusion came from.
I don't think the fandom would take SA that seriously either, even with a child. I mean, just look at the main ships; Barry is constantly harassing Uni over her beliefs and interests but it's okay because "She's into it". Barry is always ogling over Polly despite Polly very obviously being uncomfortable. Not saying that either of those are on the same level as SA, but they are very concerning and unhealthy dynamics otherwise, and the fandom treats them like they're the epitome of a cute healthy relationship.
I feel like the biggest issue Kc would have if kit tried to introduce that kind of trauma in the comic is that a lot of this fandom are younger minors (like 12-13. . .) who probably wouldn't completely understand the weight of that sort of trauma. I'm not trying to talk down on minors, I'm one myself, but I don't think younger people would be able to understand that sort of trauma well. This comic was never meant for younger kids, maybe older or more mature teens at the youngest; buuuuut they're still here and we can't really do anything about it.
Of course Kc isn't in charge of keeping these kids away from certain stuff, but I feel like it is a barrier in the way if she ever decides to introduce that sort of trauma in the comic.
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cedar-glade ¡ 2 years ago
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Denizens of the Marl,
My main focus was to introduce an early blooming species that I don’t know if I talked about ever. I usually miss my window to see this plant and for some reason I’ve never gotten close enough to photograph it properly, you can kinda see a gleam of light on the glandular hairs but not well enough to show structure.
Triantha glutinosa, blooms in early June in Ohio but can last till late June and in other states occurs in bogs in warm water conditions and blooms much later which is strange to me. I think this must be an adaptive phenotypical thing but you would expect it to be opposite and light blooming also seems to not be the culprit so I don’t know.  False Asphodel is another common name but I honestly prefer calling it sticky or glutinous false ashpodel. As a plant living in these nutrient poor super leached marl flats this plant is a carnivor, protease excretor glandular hair trap specifically, but strangely only on it’s flowering stem and not on it’s minute basal rosette. Opposite of most species that are carnivores most species try to keep traps as far from the flowers as possible which makes sense evolutionary. Glandular traps near an inflorescence seems strange for successful pollination. As it turns out this may be a seldomly pollinated species where most individuals in populations are ancient clones that have formed from rhizome spread overtime in these glacial refugium. The other thing that seems notable is many people studying these false ashpodels (Triantha spp.) run into the same morphology and phenology problems that I have, and have even come to contempt and discourse over specific populations and are evaluating them as part of a biological species complex. I agree on the T. occidentalis western split on all accounts but some of the minor disjunct probable splits seem more complex overall (Central Appalachian mountain populations (TN, VA, SC, GA)
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I feel like I can’t stress the importance of this limestone marl and the unique opportunity of getting this close to these plants without any special camera. Though I do wish I had one to display the features properly. Most of the time if you are traversing a fen you have to find and identify petrified marl shelfs or surface travertines, or you are walking on old and ancient tussock clumps from what is usually Carex stricta. Im walking on a displaced gravel shelf with petrified marl and wouldn’t dare to walk off of it and disturb the easily motile banks of loose marl or the suspended marl sediment floating like quick sand. The plants here are fragile and the habitat is equally fragile with many state listed species that cant take damage. Everywhere in the high exposure areas of marl flats are these Drosera rotundifolia and the smooth rounded/heartshaped leaves of grass of parnassas, which is in bloom as I type. Parnassia glauca is so beautiful with it’s unique floral venation and Ill post more pics once again when I get to it. The farther you get from the flats the less exposure and with it comes the sedge meadow with Arnoglossum plantagineum, also known as fen plantain leaved indian plantain. The last few shots are associated with the fully scabrid moderate sized var. ,not species, Silphium terebinthinaceum var. pinnatifidum, which we only see in fens in Ohio and the Ice scoured dwarf willow, Salix myricoides, in all of it’s new leaf glory. Still not looking blue with white pubescent undersides just yet.
Personal note:
Its been really weird doing this lagged posting because these are not matched to the time I was there. Right now, I feel like I should be posting about white bottle gentian, prairie gentian ,fringed gentian or ,andrews bottle gentian and here I am mid June posts. Heck it’s also Spiranthes spp. season and paw paw shaking season rn, most people are smelling sulfur shelves and foraging chicken of the woods(same thing). Trying to catch up and doing documentation and having a place to post personal thoughts on this stuff.
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jessikahathaway ¡ 3 years ago
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Baby Talk - Part II
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Pairing: Jikook X Reader (Jimin X Reader X Jungkook)
Genre: Surrogacy!AU, Polyamorous!AU, Romance. (Future Smut)
Warnings: Profanity, medical procedures, pining (Like a stupid amount but what can ya do), Joon and Jin get protective, mentions of pregnancy symptoms. (If I forgot anything please let me know!)
Words: 10.5k (I guess I'm committing to long chapters lol)
You’d hit the four week mark, and not much had happened yet.
Despite you feeling like your hormones were on a swing.
Jimin was bewildered when he came into the bathroom to find you crying on the floor. Trying to comfort you went downhill quickly because soon you were mad that he was joking around. Then you were crying again, apologizing for being so harsh.
Up and down and up and down.
But they never got mad at you. Never yelled at you and never ignored you. But you forced your emotions down deep into your heart. A place that would be locked and the key thrown away. Because you knew what was happening, and it simply couldn’t happen.
It was late and you could feel your stomach begging for something to eat. You’d gotten really hungry lately, no doubt your body trying to accommodate for the new life you were growing inside of you.
So, you hurried to the kitchen under the guise of night and made some rice and a little bit of stir fry. You put together everything, making sure not to make too much, and started cooking.
It was around three in the morning when you sat down at the table and ate your food, looking through your phone with a bored expression. Nothing interesting on social media and YouTube videos were only entertaining for so long. So, you ate your food and cleaned up before starting to head back towards your room.
Then, a large flash went off in the sky, causing you to jolt and look out into the city. Rain was pelting against the window, sounding sharp to your ears. It was a little intimidating.
Then the loud crash of thunder rang through the house.
You yelped at the noise, covering your ears in fear. You’d never particularly liked thunderstorms, but this one was coming in hot and aggressive. You pulled your hands away from your ears, just trying to focus on getting back to your room when another flash lit up the room. Your heart was hammering in your chest and you started to sweat.
Before you could think too much about it you were knocking on Jungkook and Jimin’s door. Another crash of thunder roared through the house and you swear you felt the floor shake. You whimpered in fear and fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. Did they hear you? Or was the storm too loud? Should you go in? What if they weren’t decent?
Jimin had said you could go in if something was wrong...
But did being scared of a thunderstorm count?
FLASH.
BANG.
You couldn’t take it anymore and you burst through the door with tears in your eyes. Fear causing you to shake violently.
Jimin and Jungkook both bolted up in bed at the sound of the door slamming open, and were out of bed instantly at the sight of you shaking on the floor.
“Y/N? What’s going on? Are you alright? Are you hurt?” Jungkook’s worried voice echoed in your ear.
“She’s trembling,” Jimin said, rubbing your back.
“I-I I’m sc-”
FLASH.
BANG.
You cried and flung your arms around Jungkook’s neck, burying your face in his chest, tears streaming down your face as you shook violently. Jungkook looked at Jimin in shock and a little bit of his own fear, but Jimin just took his hand and placed it on your head.
‘Comfort her,’ Jimin mouthed.
Jungkook nodded before rubbing your hip soothingly.
“What’s wrong Y/N? Is it the storm?” He asked, bringing his other hand to your shoulder.
“Y-Yes,” you whimpered, keeping your face buried in Jungkook’s neck.
“It’s alright, Jimin and I got you. You’ll be safe,” Jungkook promised.
Jimin rubbed soothing circles onto your back as the two of them tried to ease your frantic heart. Both of them knowing it can’t be good for the baby. But, also, on you. The stress of carrying a baby was already a lot, the fear of this thunderstorm wasn’t a good addition.
Soon, you had cried yourself to sleep.
Jimin took you in his arms, picking you up and Jungkook followed after him as they headed for your room.
The couple laid you down in bed, brushing your face tenderly. Jungkook watched as Jimin covered you up, bringing the sheets right up under your chin. He smiled at the soft pout on your lips, he wondered if the baby would have your cute pout.
Jimin, moved your hair away from your eyes, tucking it behind your ear gently. When he was certain you were settled he took Jungkook’s hand and headed back to their bedroom.
“God, that scared the fuck out of me,” Jungkook said, sitting down on the side of the bed.
“Me too,” Jimin agreed, rubbing his face in exhaustion.
“Didn’t know she was that scared of storms, makes me want to beat up the sky for scaring her like that,” Jungkook said, frowning.
Jimin laughed lightly, but kissed his boyfriend lovingly. “I know you would if you could, or at the very least, sue it,” he snorted.
“Ooh, yeah, that could work,” Jungkook said.
“I’d never seen her like that, so vulnerable. She always puts up such a tough exterior,” Jimin said, biting his lip.
“Yeah, maybe it shows that she’s starting to trust us. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to live with two people who are kinda strangers to her,” Jungkook said, feeling awkward.
“Well, maybe we can fix that,” Jimin reasoned.
“What do you have in mind my stunningly attractive boyfriend?” Jungkook asked, leaning forward.
“Mmm, let’s take her shopping. Spoil her a bit, you’ve got more zeros in your bank account than I can count on all of my fingers. She’s gonna need maternity clothes anyways. Imagine her all dressed in Gucci and Prada while walking around pregnant with our baby,” Jimin said, appearing to be day dreaming himself.
“That would be... nice... To spoil her, show her we care about her well being and everything,” Jungkook nodded in agreement.
“Let’s do it,” Jimin said, gripping Jungkook’s hands.
“Okay, yeah!”
Unfortunately for the couple, you appeared to be hating every second of this shopping excursion.
“Y/N! Come on,” Jungkook said, walking with Jimin’s hand interlocked with his.
“Coming, coming,” you sighed, following after them.
“Y/N? Are you alright? Do you need a break?” Jimin asked, stopping to take a look at you.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just, sleepy,” you grumbled.
The boys had effectively cut off your caffeine intake as of late, and it was showing. You were more exhausted than ever, just wanting to sleep the day away, but the two men wanting to hear nothing of it today. Normally they would’ve just let you sleep, but, today was a different story.
Jimin bit his lip and looked at Jungkook with concern.
You didn’t seem to be having fun at all.
What was the point in spoiling you if you were just gonna wind up pissed off at the end of it? But maybe you just hadn’t found something you wanted yet. Jimin didn’t want to lose faith so early on, but you really were in a grumpy mood today.
Jungkook pointed out several different kinds of stores, suggesting different ones and you merely told them that whatever they wanted was fine. Feeling defeated already, Jimin told Jungkook to pick a store and maybe you’d find something you wanted in there.
Soon, you were in some high end designer store, looking around with a bored expression on your face. Most girls loved when you spoiled them, wanting nothing more than to have free reign with a credit card and a whole shopping mall. But you looked so fragile and out of place in this big store.
Jungkook looked around and found some things he wanted, Jimin too, but you were still sitting on the bench, head in your hand and looking tired.
The couple looked at each other, wondering what in the world they could do to make you smile. All they wanted to do was spoil you, make you feel better...
“Are you two with the young lady over there,” the store attendant asked, pointing at you with genuine curiosity.
“Ah, yes, she’s with us,” Jimin confirmed.
“I take it she’s not really into the whole shopping experience,” the attendant said, and the couple nodded sadly.
“We just wanted to spoil her, take her out and get her stuff she wanted. But it looks like she’d rather die than be here right now,” Jungkook said, frowning.
“Well, what are some things that she likes?” The shop attendant asked.
“Books,” both of them said quickly.
The attendant laughed at them softly, nodding.
“My wife is a fan of books too, sometimes I wonder if she likes them more than me. But, you said you want to spoil her right? Tell her that, explain what you’re doing, sometimes that helps,” he offered.
Jimin nodded, looking over at your sleepy figure in the corner of the store.
“It’s worth a shot,” he said.
The pair thanked the shop attendant for his time and headed towards you.
You looked up and tried to give the couple a smile, but it looked awkward and forced, making them frown even more. Jungkook sat down next to you, and Jimin kneeled in front of you.
“Y/N, do you know why we forced you out of your blankety cocoon today?” Jimin asked, looking at you with curiosity.
“You said you wanted to take me shopping,” you said, gazing back at him.
“Exactly, we wanted to take you shopping. Not just shop for ourselves and drag you around. We want to spoil you, give you whatever you want. All you have to do is ask and you can have it, Y/N, money isn’t an issue here,” Jimin said.
Biting your lip you felt yourself get uncomfortable. “I-I don’t really like being spoiled, you know? I um... It makes me feel weird,” you said, rubbing your neck.
“The last thing we wanted to do was make you upset,” Jungkook said, biting his lip.
“No I’m not upset I just feel awkward,” you explained.
“Oh, there’s no need to feel awkward Y/N, it’s just us,” Jimin reassured.
“People keep staring at us, like I’m some lame friend third wheeling on a date,” you sighed, rubbing your face.
Jimin and Jungkook both swallowed hard.
They hadn’t realized people were staring. But it would make sense, Jimin and Jungkook were known in the city and suddenly a girl is walking around with them? That did seem a bit odd. They were also regulars in this mall and no doubt the staff were looking too.
God, they had messed this whole day up.
“Oh Y/N, we’re sorry,” Jungkook said, pressing his hands to his face.
“Sorry? Sorry for what?” You asked, turning to look at him with confusion.
“Not including you,” Jimin explained.
“There’s no need to include me-” you started when Jungkook cut you off quickly.
“Yes there is, you’re carrying our baby, we want you to feel comfortable and safe. Not ignored and shut out, that’s not fair to you,” he said, brushing his hair away from his face.
“Yeah, we want you to have whatever you want. As long as it isn’t unhealthy for you or the baby,” Jimin said.
“This isn’t about flexing or whatever on other people, this is about you. And what you want,” Jungkook said.
“Well,” you said, worrying your lip with your teeth.
“Yes?” Jimin said, leaning forward.
“It’s, well, I guess some new clothes wouldn’t be bad. I’ll need maternity stuff,” you told them.
“Yes! Absolutely! We can do that!” Jimin said, standing up and pulling you with him.
However, it was a little too fast for you, causing your head to spin. Jungkook was steadying you with his warm palms on your waist, Jimin keeping you upright with his hands around your wrists.
“Sorry Y/N! I-I wasn’t thinking and I got so excited, sorry,” Jimin frowned at himself.
“It’s alright,” you said, not wanting him to be upset over something that didn’t really matter.
“I need to be more gentle with you, you’re carrying our baby for Christ sakes,” Jimin huffed.
You nodded, noticing the stern look on Jimin’s face. Licking your dry lips, you looked down at your feet. You were only a month along so you couldn’t really see anything yet. But knowing there was a life inside of you made you feel a little flutter in your chest every time you thought about it.
However, you needed to get that under control.
This wasn’t your baby.
And that’s just how it was going to be.
Jimin and Jungkook had managed to drag you into a designer store for mothers apparently, because everything in here looked like it was worth a fortune. How were you supposed to pick something and wear it when you were afraid it was gonna get dirty? For fucksake you were almost certain they would be ruined by the end of this pregnancy.
“Ooh! Y/N, pink is your color,” Jimin smiled, holding up a rose colored blouse at you.
Looking down you saw small daisies printed on the shirt as well. It was cute, you had to give him that. You agreed to try it on, but only if he promised not to show you the price tag. Jimin nodded quickly.
Jungkook came around the corner, carrying a couple different articles of clothing. Mainly dresses, as they would be a comfortable and easy choice. But there were some skirts and blouses in his arms too. After finding the ones you liked the three of you were sent to the dressing rooms.
Jimin and Jungkook waited outside on the bench, demanding a fashion show from you. You rolled your eyes, but didn’t say no before you headed in and tried on a couple of outfits.
You walked out and did a little spin every time, Jungkook and Jimin giving their opinions. Which were always small claps with whistles accompanying them.
Then you walked out in a shorter green sundress that you had managed to grab on the shelf without looking at the tag, thank God. It was green with splashes of turquoise and white that made your eyes pop beautifully. There was a cutout at the top that showed a little bit of cleavage but it wasn’t an insane amount. Nothing you thought anything of anyways.
It came to your knees, and it was generous with the room in it. No doubt when you were showing it would come up to your mid thigh. Fluffing your hair you walked out and smiled at the boys. Jungkook’s eyes trailed down your body. This was the first non maxi dress you’d tried on, even the skirts had been considerably modest. So, they were getting the first glimpse at your skin.
Jimin was stunned.
You were absolutely gorgeous. A vision.
Legs looking gorgeous and long, skirt fluttering around your knees but Jimin couldn’t help imagine you when you were showing a little more. Would it ride up higher? Clearing his throat he smiles at you.
“It looks really good, Y/N, I didn’t pick this one. Did you Kook?” Jimin said, turning to his boyfriend, who seemed to still be in a stupor.
“Jungkook?” You said, looking at the doe eyed man with a little bit of worry pinching your features.
“Yes? No, it-you look amazing Y/N, did you pick this out?” He asked you.
“I did, yeah,” you answered.
“Little sneak, do you really want to stop our hearts?” Jimin teased.
Blushing you brushed your hair behind your ear and stared at your shoes. Jungkook looked at you with so much longing it made Jimin’s heart stammer. Not out of jealousy, but something else. Jimin shook the thought from his head.
Soon you were all settled back in the car, several shopping bags in the back. Jimin and Jungkook had requested a driver today, wanting to just enjoy the experience. So, the driver dutifully drove while the three of you sat in the back.
You looked out the window and watched scenery pass you by. Jimin and Jungkook looked at you, each with a similar look on their face and similar feelings in their chest. But neither of them were brave enough to admit it to themselves. Not when they almost had everything they’ve ever wanted, or what they thought they wanted...
Getting out of the car, Jimin asked the driver to have the bags delivered up to their apartment. The driver nodded before disappearing.
The three of you made your way up to the apartment, but not before Jimin and Jungkook spilled that they had a surprise for you. Looking at them with a menacing glare, Jungkook broke first as you three made it into the entryway of the apartment.
“It’s nothing crazy, just... We didn’t want you feeling like the third wheel or, you know, not a part of this. You are just as important to us as the baby you are carrying, and while you’re with us we want you happy and... so we got you this,” Jungkook said, holding out the signature blue box that made your stomach churn with how much it must’ve cost.
“Please, don’t ask how much it cost. It doesn’t matter as long as it makes you happy,” Jimin whispered.
Slowly, you opened the box and a beautiful moon pendant sparkling in diamonds and white gold stared at you. You damn near dropped the thing because of how gorgeous it was. Jungkook and Jimin froze on the spot when they saw tears starting to fall down your face.
“Do you not like it?” Jimin asked.
“Is it too much? Did we go overboard?” Jungkook worried.
“N-No, it’s beautiful,” you said, touching the pendant with a delicate finger.
“Do you want to put it on?” Jungkook asked, hoping to God that you didn’t throw this pendant back in their faces.
“Yes, please,” you said, handing Jungkook the back and brushing your hair out of the way so he had access.
Slowly, you watched as the beautiful moon swung just above your cleavage, kissing your chest lightly. It was fastened behind your neck and you turned around, looking at the two men with a bright smile on your face.
Then, they held up their wrists.
A sun and a star.
You looked and saw it was all a matching set.
“You guys, you really,” you said, smiling softly.
“Honestly, Y/N, you’re our equal in this. You aren’t just a womb we’re renting,” Jimin said. “You’re a person, with wants and feelings and we want you to feel that. More than anything, we want you happy and safe.”
“We’re so thrilled you chose us, seriously. If there’s anything you want, anything you need, name it, we’ll get it for you. Scouts honor,” Jungkook said, holding up his hand.
Feeling an overwhelming sense of emotion, more tears ran down your cheeks, making you sniffle and wipe at them with irritation. You didn’t want to cry right now, you were happy! Now, you just looked like a snotty red mess.
“Aw, don’t cry Y/N!” Jungkook said, coming forward to wipe your tears.
“God you guys are such turds, making me cry all the time,” you sniffled.
“It’s not our fault!” Jimin said.
“It is very much your fault,” you said, holding your stomach gently.
A rush of air left the two of them at you doing something so maternal. It made Jungkook’s blood burst into flames, and Jimin had to swallow a moan at the knowledge of you being pregnant with his baby. You cocked your head to the side and looked at the two silent men.
“Okay, well... Thanks for today you two... I’m glad I got to be spoiled a little bit. I’m gonna go take a shower, are we ordering out for dinner tonight?” You asked. They were still silent and you wondered what the fuck broke them when Jimin blinked rapidly a few times before clearing his throat.
“Y-You’re welcome, if you want to go again just tell us and we can,” he said, fighting to keep his calm exterior.
“Okay, I’m gonna go take a shower then,” you said again, taking off towards the stairs.
Jungkook damn near collapsed on the floor when you were finally gone.
“Jesus,” he said, panting hard.
“Do you, do you feel it too?” Jimin asked, gazing at the area where you had been standing.
“Yeah,” Jungkook croaked.
“Fuck what’s wrong with us? She’s here for us to care for her, to nurture her, not use her like some object,” Jimin said, running his hands through his hair in frustration.
Jungkook rubbed his shoulders, trying to soothe his boyfriend’s frantic thoughts. He agreed. You weren’t someone for them to use and abuse... You were the mother of their child and you deserved to be respected. But God if the thought of you didn’t send their minds spiraling.
“I know... We just gotta tough it out I guess. What else can we do?” Jungkook reasoned.
“I don’t know Kook, I don’t know,” Jimin said, gripping his boyfriend’s hand tightly.
—
The six week mark came and so did the morning sickness. To start, it was just waves of nausea, but soon it turned into full blown vomiting.
It was around seven in the morning and you had barely slept a wink. You felt jittery and restless, unable to relax. But when you sat up to head to the kitchen for something to eat, your stomach flipped. Soon, you were in the bathroom getting sick in the toilet.
Shortly you heard a knocking at the door.
“Y/N? Sweetie are you alright?” Jimin’s worried voice echoed through the door.
“Yeah,” you wheezed, trying to keep yourself from hurling again.
“Can I come in?” His light tone echoed through the room.
“Yeah,” you said, feeling another rush of nausea washing over you as he comes in. You looked and saw his worried face come into focus.
“Oh sweetheart,” Jimin said, rubbing your back as you got sick once more.
“Jimin? Y/N?” Jungkook’s voice echoed in the apartment.
“We’re in the bathroom Kook!” Jimin yelled.
Shortly Jungkook’s footsteps came into the bathroom. He was frowning, knowing you must be uncomfortable and there wasn’t much he could do for you. Watching Jimin rub your back gave him a sense of comfort however.
You were struggling with your chest being tender also. Every time you moved against the toilet you felt a jolt of pain go down your spine. Wincing when you came back up, Jimin had gotten you a little cup of water. You swished the cool liquid around before spitting it out and standing up slowly, per Jimin’s instructions.
You brushed your teeth and told the boys you were alright. They left and you did the rest of your morning routine. Jimin came back into your room and asked if you were ready for breakfast. You nodded and let Jimin lead you to the kitchen table. Jimin, taking note of your poor start to the day, asked if you wanted anything in particular for breakfast. Thinking back you really enjoyed the Nutella and banana toast he made for you a while back.
He nodded and started the toaster quickly. Jungkook had been working overtime recently and had to leave shortly after your bathroom incident. Soon, two pieces of Nutella toast with bananas were placed in front of you.
But the second the smell of banana hit your nose, you were scrunching up your face in disgust. Jimin looked at you with confusion. Then it dawned on him: food sensitivity.
Quickly removing the plate he asked if anything else sounded good, and you came up with the weird combination that was scrambled eggs with cream cheese.
Jimin looked on with a light smile on his face as you scarfed down the eggs and cream cheese without a single nose scrunch. It always made him happy to see you eating. Keeping up your health for the sake of the baby and you made him happy.
Soon, you were done and Jimin had gone into the living room to watch some TV when you noticed him sitting there. Lounging on the couch was a normal thing, but, looking at him now you-you couldn’t put your finger on it. He just looked so good, sitting there. He’d recently redid his hair so it was a beautiful blond color. His eyes wandered from the television to you, standing there in your loose t-shirt and pajama shorts.
He licked his lips for a moment, but that was all it took for you.
The flash of his tongue made you slightly weak in the knees, causing you to grip the edge of the table for support. Jimin seemed to mistake this for a more serious problem as he was up in a matter of seconds to come to your side.
“Y/N? What’s the matter?” He asked, looking at you with concern.
“I-I’m good,” you said, giving him a thumbs up. “I think I just ate too fast.”
Jimin mulled this over in his head for a moment before nodding and stepping back.
“As long as you’re okay,” he said, heading back towards the couch.
But your symptoms weren’t just limited to food sensitivity, morning sickness and random bouts of arousal, oh no... The best one was the nightmares that had taken over your sleep schedule.
Normally they were just vague things that you forgot about when you woke up. But they were becoming more vivid. More, unsettling.
You were dreaming being in pools of blood, sometimes it was yours, sometimes it belonged to the boys. Sometimes you didn’t know where it came from, but it was always there. Never to be washed away, only to drown in...
You were caught up in the throes of a particularly bad nightmare...
You’d miscarried and lost the baby, Jimin and Jungkook were heartbroken and left you bleeding out on the floor as you stared up into the ceiling, dying.
The room was tilted and everything was wobbly.
You tried to go after them, to ask for another chance. But it was too late, they were gone.
Screaming, you bolted up in your bed. Tears flowing down your cheeks at a rapid rate. Your heart was hammering in your chest so loud you swore you could feel it in your throat.
You heard the slamming of a door and soon Jimin and Jungkook barged into your room, looking around frantically until they found you on your bed, shaking and crying into your hands.
“Y/N!” They yelled, going to your sides and trying to get you to talk to them.
“Sweetie, what happened? Why did you scream?” Jimin asked, petting your hair trying to soothe you.
“I-I had a nightmare, I-I lost the baby and, then lost you two,” you whimpered, covering your face again.
Jungkook swallowed thickly, the image of you crying being burned into his memory. He hated seeing you like this. It hurt him to see you so distraught. Jimin, too, was struggling with your emotions. He just wanted you happy and healthy, free from any worry and troubles of the real world. But of course, he couldn’t protect you from everything and everyone. No matter how much he wanted to.
“Y/N, it’s okay. We’re right here, we aren’t going anywhere,” said Jungkook. You were crying violently, looking at the bed spread with blurred vision. Jimin looked at Jungkook with worry written all over his features, your smaller frame sat shaking in the bed as the two males tried to comfort you.
Jungkook hesitantly reached out to wipe the tears from your face. You looked up at the man with puffy cheeks and swollen eyes, before glancing back down at your lap.
“You aren’t going to lose us, Y/N,” Jimin reassured.
“I’m scared,” you whispered, so broken that it had both of their eyes tearing up at the sound.
“It’s alright, we’re scared too,” Jimin said, patting your hair gently. “But we’ll get through this.”
“There was so much blood,” you whimpered, biting your lip trying to keep the sobs from coming out.
“Y/N,” Jungkook said, feeling his eyes burning with unshed tears of his own.
“I was dying and you just... left me there,” you confessed.
“We could never leave you just like that Y/N, ever,” Jimin said, sounding shocked.
“We’d never forgive ourselves if something happened to you,” Jungkook whispered.
Jimin grabbed his hand, rubbing his fingers over the knuckles. He knew seeing you like this was hard on both of them, and knowing how much you truly didn’t think they cared was also hurtful. Because all they wanted was to tell you you didn’t have to leave... But it couldn’t work like that.
Jimin’s work as a high end therapist was already wobbly because of his relationship with Jungkook. As unfortunate as it is, people didn’t want his help if he was dating a fellow man.
And Jungkook had already been shamed for his love publicly, the gossip forums on the newspaper and websites having a hay day with his image. He’d worked so hard to show he wasn’t any different than a straight man when it came to his work. But, the world is a cruel place, and social norms often reared their ugly heads with Jungkook.
They couldn’t drag you into that cesspool of nasty comments and uncomfortable encounters. It was a harsh reality, but it was the one you were all living in. And there wasn’t anything they could do about it.
Jungkook wanted to scream about how it was unfair. How you sitting here with them wasn’t wrong, as long as you all cared about one another, how could it be? But they both knew how this would end.
With you walking out of their lives and your child’s life, forever.
“I’m sorry for waking you up,” you hiccuped, swallowing down the rest of your tears.
“No, don’t be sorry,” Jimin said, rubbing your shoulder.
“If something’s wrong we want you to tell us,” Jungkook said, looking at you with misty eyes.
“I-I will,” you said, wiping your face.
“Are you going to be able to go back to sleep?” Jimin asked, looking at your state with concern.
“I should be able to,” you said, trying to convince yourself of the same thing.
“We can stay with you, until you’re asleep,” Jungkook offered before even thinking. Jimin’s head snapped to the younger male, who was already shrinking.
“W-Would you?” Your soft voice spoke up.
Jimin nodded finally, crawling into the bed with you and Jungkook following suit. They each took a hand and held it tightly. Jimin drew different shapes and patterns on your palm, making you giggle when it tickled. Jungkook interlocked your fingers together, running his thumb over your soft skin like Jimin did with him when he was nervous or scared.
Sooner, rather than later, you were passed out once more, hands clutching Jimin and Jungkook’s.
The men managed to untangle themselves from you as they went back to their room, hearts heavy. When the door shut, Jungkook burst into tears.
“Oh my sweet boy, don’t cry,” Jimin said, wiping his boyfriend’s cheeks carefully.
“Jimin,” he said, forehead resting on the older man’s shoulder.
“I know, it hurts me too,” Jimin whispered.
“I just want her to know that she’s not just a convenience, she’s so much more than that,” Jungkook whimpered.
“Yeah,” Jimin said, thinking of your body curled up on the couch with a good book and a warm drink next to you. Your smile when your favorite song comes on in the car. The way you’re already so protective over the baby.
“I don’t know if it’s because she’s carrying our baby or what, but, I want to be closer to her. I want to know everything about her... God I don’t know what to do with myself Jimin,” Jungkook complained, wiping at his tears in frustration.
“We just gotta keep it in our mind that she had a life before this, and she’ll have a life after it too. S-She’s doing this because we’re paying her Jungkook. Of course that isn’t the only reason but, it is the main one,” Jimin reminded his boyfriend, and himself.
Even though the words felt hollow in the air.
“I guess,” Jungkook said.
“You’ve got work early, we need to go back to bed,” Jimin said, motioning for Jungkook to get into bed as well. The two men cuddled up to each other, each feeling like something, or someone, was missing...
--
Faster than you thought possible, the ten week mark had come.
It was time to get your first ultrasound of the pregnancy.
The boys were over the moon about the whole thing. Excitedly chatting in the car.
“I hope we can see the baby well,” Jungkook said, driving carefully through the street.
Jimin hummed in agreement. “Me too, the baby is still super small right now. About the size of a prune but, we’ll still be able to see them on the screen. And, we can hear their heartbeat!”
You smiled at their excitement. Bringing your fingers up you brushed the pendant they gave you, a nervous habit you’d picked up shortly after their gifting it to you. Jungkook looked at you in the rearview, playing with the sparkling jewelry piece. It made his chest feel tight, looking at you. Jimin placed a hand on his, making Jungkook focus on him for a moment.
Jimin shook his head and Jungkook swallowed thickly, knowing exactly what he meant.
Soon, you were all at the clinic.
Jimin helped you out of the backseat, getting your bag and whatnot so you didn’t have to fuss with it. Jungkook placed a protective hand on your lower back, guiding you into the building.
You felt your heart flutter in your chest at the action, having to cover up your blushing with a cough. Jimin urged you to sit down while he got the paperwork, something you didn’t fight him on. You were exhausted as of late.
The boys reassured you it was normal to be tired. You knew, however, that you were a little more tired than normal. Briefly you wondered if it was because it was your first time and you’d never felt something like this. However, that didn’t sit right. You knew there was something going on, but you didn’t want to worry the boys. Especially since you were getting an ultrasound today.
Sitting next to Jungkook in the waiting room, he made small talk. Asking how you were feeling and if the morning sickness had gotten any better.
“It’s gotten worse,” you complained, leaning your head back in the seat.
“Really? Maybe we can ask the doctor to prescribe something for you,” he said.
“It should be going away soon, I’ll be alright,” you reassured, patting his knee.
“Sometimes it doesn’t go away until the baby is born, I just don’t want you to suffer if we can do something about it,” Jungkook said softly.
“If it gets too bad, I’ll say something. Okay?” You said, keeping a gentle smile on your face.
“Yeah, okay,” he agreed.
Jimin came back and took Jungkook’s hand, intertwining their fingers together. Jimin had a habit of tracing the tattoos on Jungkook’s hands when he was nervous, it made you smile.
Eventually a nurse called your name and led you back to the ultrasound room. Jungkook smiled and sat down in the chair provided. Jimin helped you up onto the table and the ultrasound tech went over what they would be looking for and opened it up for questions.
When no one had any, she proceeded.
“Okay, I just need you to pull the front of your pants down a little bit,” the tech asked, prepping the machine.
You immediately turned and looked at Jungkook and Jimin, then down at your stomach. It wasn’t a big deal, it was just a little bit anyways.
Without much more thought you pulled your pants so just the top of your panties were showing. Jungkook’s eyes widened at your actions, but he tried to keep a calm exterior. Jimin kept his eyes trained on the screen, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable.
The ultrasound gel was cold, making you jump when it came in contact with your skin. But soon it was warming to your skin and you all looked at the screen with rapt attention.
“Alright so we should see the head and curvature of the body, but other than that this is just to make sure that everything is looking good in the uterus and to see if there are any abnormalities with the baby-oh! Babies it appears,” the tech said, a big smile on her face.
“What?” Jimin said.
“There’s another head there, if you look right here,” she pointed at the screen. “Looks like you’ve got a set of twins in there!”
Jungkook’s eyes teared up, looking down at your stomach with his heart in his throat.
You were stunned.
Twins?
The first try?
Wow, you really did win the lottery.
“Oh my God,” Jimin said, hiding his face in Jungkook’s shoulder.
“Way to go, got those twins first try,” you said, trying to keep your nerves under control.
“It’s all thanks to you Y/N, we couldn’t do it without you,” Jungkook reminded.
“Are you guys going to want the pictures?” The tech asked. Jimin and Jungkook of course said yes.
“Wow, look at their heads babe!” Jimin yelped as you all walked out of the clinic together. Jimin was still cooing over the pictures of the twins from the ultrasound.
“I need to put it in my wallet,” he said, bringing out the accessory shortly after.
You smiled at their excitement. You were beyond happy, you’d done it. Gave them the twins they desperately wanted. First try too. You knew that meant a few more complications, but, you didn’t want that to hold too much weight over you.
“We should call Namjoon and Jin! Tell them the news about the twins!”
You nodded quickly, wanting to tell your friends the update.
Namjoon and Jin were thrilled, obviously. Insisting that they’ll give Annie to Jin’s parents for the night so you could all get together and have a meal. Agreeing, the boys set it up for around seven thirty.
“Dress nice! I also expect to see those ultrasound pictures!” Jin said through the phone.
You snorted and shook your head, gently touching your stomach. You felt a fluttering in your chest, like you were standing on the edge of a tall building or something. It made you gasp lightly, moving your hand away from your belly to your chest. Jimin seemed to notice your movement because he was turning around in his seat.
“Everything alright there?” He asked, looking at you with his beautiful brown eyes.
“Y-yeah, I’m good. We’re-good,” you said, pointing to your tummy. Jimin’s eyes lit up at the mention of the babies.
“Okay, tell me if you need anything,” he said, turning around and facing the front once more.
You all walked back into the apartment, Jungkook still gushing about everything. You simply smiled and went to go get ready for dinner.
Jin did say to look nice, so you picked out a few things from your shopping excursion a while back. Putting on a dress that looked skin tight but it was super stretchy, so no doubt you could wear it late into the pregnancy. The zipper on the back would be an issue but, it made you feel a little sexy. You hadn’t really done a lot in regards to your appearance around the boys, you didn’t see the need.
But, it wouldn’t hurt to do your hair and dress nicely...
You had the perfect shoes to pair with the dress. You grabbed some stockings and a few other small pieces of jewelry, placing them on the bed while you assembled everything together the way you wanted it.
Eventually, you were all set.
Except for the zipper on the back.
You didn’t understand why there was a zipper on such a stretchy dress, but fashion has its ways you guess. Reaching behind you proved unsuccessful. Quickly growing frustrated, you did the following without thinking.
“Jimin? Jungkook? Can one of you come here for a second please?”
Once the words were out, you immediately wished you could eat them.
But the damage had been done.
Both men walked in your room.
Jimin’s jaw dropped open, looking at you in awe.
You were in knee high stockings, low heels and a slinky black dress that hugged your body so perfectly it made him want to drop to his knees. Jungkook fared no better. Seeing your hair styled and a little bit of makeup on your features really enhanced your natural beauty. They both were staring, making you shrink in embarrassment.
“O-Okay, you can blink any time now,” you said, chuckling to ease the tension in the room.
“You look... wow,” Jimin breathed.
“Incredible. You look incredible,” Jungkook said, eyes trailing down your legs.
“Thank you, but, um... Could one of you please come zip me up? I can’t reach the zipper,” you said, turning your back to them fully.
Jungkook stared at his boyfriend with an almost agonized look on his face. Jimin nodded and walked forward, brushing your hair out of the way. Placing a gentle hand on your hip Jimin pulled the zipper up to the top, covering each inch of your beautiful skin.
Jungkook swallowed his noise of protest, trying to remember what Jimin had said. You weren’t an object for them to use, you were their surrogate. The woman who would be birthing their twins. And then leaving...
Jimin knew if Jungkook had walked forward to zip up your dress he wouldn’t be able to keep it together. Jimin wasn’t doing that hot either to be honest. Your hips flared out. Looking so beautiful hugged in the dress, and the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips was... alarming.
“Thank you,” you said, turning around with a smile on your face.
Jimin couldn’t help but mirror your grin.
“Absolutely, are you ready to go now?” He asked, trying to keep from getting distracted any more.
“Yeah, let’s go! I want Jin to feed me so much I burst,” you said, heading towards the door. Once you were gone, Jungkook looked at Jimin.
“This is only getting harder,” Jungkook said, biting his lip.
“Are you going to be alright?” Jimin questioned, placing his hand on Jungkook’s shoulder.
“Yeah, just... This feels wrong,” Jungkook whispered.
“What feels wrong?” Jimin asked.
“Keeping her at arm's length, I just feel awkward. Pushing her away when she’s doing something so big for us, it’s really emotionally charged and... I feel like a jerk for treating her like just another person. Like she isn’t special,” Jungkook explained, brushing his hair out of his face.
“I understand,” Jimin said, trying to smooth the frown lines from Jungkook’s face.
“Boys? Are you coming?” Your voice echoed through the house.
“Coming!” Jimin said. “We’ll talk about this later, okay? We’ll figure this out.”
—
The dinner at Jin and Namjoon’s was beyond anything you’d expected.
There was so much food and honestly, you ate a lot. Lying back in your chair, tilting your head back you sighed. Rubbing your stomach unconsciously. But the boys noticed everything. Especially how amazing you looked in that outfit.
It was just about all they could do to keep their hands off of you. Jungkook was fidgeting the whole night, being the one who sat next to you. He really tried to keep his cool, but a man could only take so much.
“So, Y/N, how does it feel to be pregnant with twins?” Namjoon asked, taking a small bite of rice.
“Honestly? It’s not been a cake walk, let me tell you. My mood swings are everywhere, my chest is killing me, food is either a hit or miss and don’t get me started on how arou-ahem,” you froze at your brazen attitude. Jimin and Jungkook’s heads snapped at your statement, looking at you with masked emotions. “Sorry, got carried away. Anyways, it’s been wild. But, I’m really glad to be doing it, you know? The boys take good care of me,” you praised, smiling at the two of them now.
Namjoon noticed it first.
The twinkle in Jungkook’s eyes at your words. How genuinely happy he seemed listening to you talk. Jimin’s body language was always engaged with you, never closing off or making it appear like he wasn’t interested.
Namjoon’s eyes widened.
This would need to be discussed...
Soon, everyone was sitting in the living room, just digesting. When you got up and said you had to use the restroom.
When the men were alone, Namjoon attacked.
“What are you guys doing?” He asked, looking at the two younger men with worry in his features.
“What do you mean?” Jimin quizzed right back.
“Listen, I’ve been friends with Y/N for a long time. I really care about her and want only the best for her. I also want you guys to be happy and healthy and have your own family, so please don’t take what I’m about to say personally but-what the fuck?” He asked.
“What do you mean what the fuck?” Jungkook asked.
“Why are you looking at her like that?” Namjoon asked, feeling his frustration rise.
“Like what?!” Jimin argued.
“Like you-Like you, are all, like... a couple?” Namjoon said, feeling the awkward tension rising in the room.
“What?” Jungkook coughed.
“We aren’t together,” Jimin said slowly.
“But do you want to be?” Namjoon asked.
Jungkook broke first.
“I don’t know,” he whispered, placing his head in his hands. Jimin was quick to comfort the younger male, rubbing his back in big, soothing circles.
“It’s a new experience for us. We just want her to be happy and healthy and safe. You know, take care of her,” Jimin explained, skirting around the question.
“Of course, but, there’s a difference between appreciation and affection,” Jin said, speaking up.
“Y-Yeah, we know that,” Jimin answered. “I’m a therapist, I know what emotions are.”
Namjoon rolled his eyes.
“If you know what emotions are then why are you denying your own?” he asked.
“I’m not!”
“Bullshit,” Namjoon challenged.
“This is fucking ridiculous,” Jimin growled.
“What’s all the angry whispering out here for?” You asked, walking back into the room. The energy snapped within an instant.
“It’s alright, just a heated debate about politics,” Namjoon joked, giving you a tender smile.
“Oookay?” You said, coming back in to sit down next to Jungkook, who was trying his best to not squirm when your thigh brushed his.
The rest of the night moved rather calmly, but not without a fierce monopoly game that almost caused a few table flips. Jungkook wound up losing and threw a mini tantrum. But it was quickly smoothed over when you promised you’d bake him some cookies the next time he had a day off.
While Namjoon and Jin were cleaning up, Jungkook and Jimin discovered your sleeping frame on the couch once more. Breaths coming in even and slow, they smiled at you. Your lips were pouting lightly, something they’d discovered was a habit when you were sleeping.
And Jungkook adored it.
He came over to your side and tried to wake you up, but when you whined and fussed he decided it would just be easier to carry you to the car. Carefully, the strong young man lifted you into his arms and towards the door. Jimin got the rest of your things all together and they thanked Jin and Namjoon for the meal and night.
But before they left, Namjoon grabbed Jimin by the shoulder. Jungkook waited, looking back in worry. Jimin waved him on, saying he’d be there in a minute. Jungkook nodded before heading out the door.
“What?” Jimin asked.
“I’m sorry about earlier, I overstepped. I didn’t mean to offend you or Jungkook. It’s just, Y/N is very inexperienced when it comes to love and emotions and having that connection. I’m worried about what’s happening to her. I don’t want her to get her hopes up and be crushed later on,” he explained.
Jimin nodded his head.
“I accept your apology. I didn’t mean to fly off the handle either, Jungkook and I have been... Discussing it. But it’s not an easy thing to come to terms with, we aren’t sure what we feel for her... We know we care about her, but is it because she’s our surrogate and we want to care for her? Or is it something deeper? We don’t know,” Jimin sighed, running his fingers through his hair.
“Y/N is so special. She gives without thinking, she is so dedicated to those she cares about... she’d give the shirt off her back to someone she didn’t even know. It’s hard not to love her, but... she doesn’t deserve to be pulled in a million different directions either. But you all deserve to be happy, I’m always here if you need to talk,” Namjoon offered.
Jimin smiled lightly. “That’s normally my line.”
“You guys are good people, I wouldn’t have recommended Y/N do this if I didn’t trust you. But, just... please don’t take advantage of her heart. And don’t lie to yourselves either.”
Jimin nodded, looking down at the floor with a resolute nod.
“Thanks, both of you,” Jimin said, giving a small wave before heading out towards the car. Jungkook already had you buckled and settled in.
“What was that about?” Jungkook asked, getting into the front seat.
“He wanted to apologize for earlier, he felt like he overstepped. And, he wanted to explain why he was so defensive over Y/N,” Jimin said.
Jungkook nodded and started the car, taking off down the road.
“Why is he so protective? Did they like, date in the past or something?” Jungkook asked. Jimin shook his head.
“N-No, Y/N hasn’t ever had a boyfriend or girlfriend,” Jimin said, resting his head in his hand.
“What? Really?” Jungkook balked. Trying to think of how someone like you hadn’t ever been snatched up before. You were a total catch! But, you did tend to keep to yourself.
“Yeah, she told me about it the day she had her IUI done,” Jimin explained.
“Oh, so-wait. She’s having a baby when she’s never, like, had sex?” Jungkook said. “Is that safe?”
“I mean I’m sure it’s safe but, she’s not... Um, she told me she’s had sex before,” Jimin said.
“Wow, how did this all come up?” Jungkook asked.
“Well, she mentioned something about wanting someone who looked at her the way we look at each other,” Jimin blushed.
“She’s so cute,” Jungkook groaned. “Well, at least she’s been with someone before. You know, had that kind of pleasure.”
Jimin coughed, rubbing his neck. Jungkook looked at him weirdly.
“What?”
“She may have off-handedly mentioned that she’s never, uh... You know, finished,” Jimin flushed. Jungkook looked floored at the information.
“You mean to tell me, that some jerk took her virginity and didn’t fucking make it special? What a fucking tool bag,” Jungkook growled.
“I don’t know the story, she didn’t divulge that kind of information. I was the one who guessed she’s never finished, and she was pretty embarrassed about it all to be honest,” Jimin said.
“That is so frustrating,” Jungkook said.
“Yeah.”
The car was quiet, save for your soft little snores coming from the back seat.
“Did you hear what she said during dinner?” Jimin asked. “When she was talking about her pregnancy symptoms.”
“Yeah...” Jungkook trailed off.
“I wish we could do something for her, I feel so bad,” Jimin whispered.
“We can be there to support her but we can’t over step either,” Jungkook said.
“I know, normally I’m the one reminding you of that,” Jimin huffed.
“I understand it’s not easy for either of us,” Jungkook said softly.
“Maybe we just need a god romp in the sheets to get it out of our system hmm?” Jimin teased, running a hand up Jungkook’s thigh. Jungkook couldn’t help the hiss that came out of his mouth at the touch. They hadn’t really been active in that way since you’d come into the house.
“Y-You know how loud I get,” Jungkook said, swallowing hard.
“Oh I’m very aware how loud I can make you scream,” Jimin winked.
“Stop, I’m already hard,” Jungkook whined.
“I bet you are baby,” Jimin said, squeezing his boyfriend’s thigh tight.
“Stop, please,” Jungkook whined.
“Mmm,” Jimin said, not sensing that Jungkook really wanted him to stop. “And what if I keep going baby? What if I snuck my hand into your pants and tugged your pathetic little cock until you came huh? Make you come all over your expensive pants and make you lick it up?”
“Jimin,” Jungkook said, cock straining against his pants.
“Yes baby? What does my baby want, huh?” Jimin asked, so sweet... Almost dangerous.
“I-I want-”
“Mmm, are we home yet?” You voice perked up from the back seat.
“Y/N?” Jimin asked, turning to look at you. Your eyes were bleary from sleep and it was obvious you must’ve just woken up. Jungkook adjusted himself in the seat, trying to hide his throbbing erection from your sight.
“Yeah?” You said, blinking slow.
“Sweetie,” Jimin cooed, brushing a few strands of your hair back from your face, even though it was an awkward angle for him.
“Jungkook are you okay?” You asked, noticing how tense the young man’s posture was.
“I-I’m good,” he said, trying to hide his arousal.
“Okay,” you said, laying your head back down.
Jungkook pulled the car into the front slot of the building, handing the keys over to the valet. The two of them brought you out of the car and Jimin decided it was his turn to carry you up to the apartment. So, the three of you all made it to the apartment in silence.
You were awake, but you weren’t feeling too terribly chatty. Sleep still at the forefront of your mind. Jungkook and Jimin hadn’t spoken since you got out of the car, and you can’t help but feel like you were in the middle of something kinda intense. The charged feeling in the room making you shift against Jimin’s chest.
He looked down at you, trying to keep himself from jostling you too much. You were exhausted. But soon, you felt bile rising in your throat...
“Jimin put me down,” you said, holding your hand to the mouth. Just as he set you down you scrambled to the bathroom and threw up the massive dinner you’d eaten. Jimin and Jungkook were rushing right after you. Jungkook brought your hair away from your face. Jimin sat down next to him to rub your back.
You got to the point where you were just dry heaving into the toilet, but it didn’t seem to end.
“Oh fuck,” you croaked, coughing hard.
“You want some water?” Jimin asked.
“No, I’m scared I’ll just throw that up too,” you whined.
“It might be better than just dry heaving,” Jimin said.
“You got a point,” you huffed, trying to keep your head from spinning.
“I’ll get you some,” he said, moving off the floor to head towards the kitchen. Jungkook shuffled forward, kind of molding his front to your back. When you pushed a little too hard against him you felt it. Wondering what it could be for a moment you pushed back against him again, when he groaned in surprise.
“U-Um, Jungkook?” You squeaked.
“S-Sorry!” He said, moving away faster than the speed of light.
“I-It’s okay, just, you know,” you flushed.
“It’s not because of you! It’s not uh, I wasn’t um,” he stuttered.
“I-I didn’t think it was?” You said, more of a question.
“It’s not that you’re not pretty or anything it’s-”
“No, I get it,” you said, smiling weakly.
“Y/N-”
“Here’s your water,” Jimin said, bringing in a glass for you to drink.
You sipped it slowly. Not paying attention. Jungkook looked like he was going to die in the corner, which made Jimin shoot him a weird look. He just shook his head as he covered his face. Jimin made a mental note to question him about it later, but his concern was on you right now.
“Have you been getting sick a lot?” Jimin asked, placing a soft hand on your shoulder.
“I mean, it’s mainly in the morning. I think I just ate too much at dinner,” you said, pouting lightly.
“Gotcha, do you feel like you’re going to get sick again? Or do you think you’re done?” He asked.
“I-I think I’m good,” you said, putting the empty glass down.
“Are you sure?” Jimin asked, making you look at him.
“Mhmm,” you confirmed, eyes getting droopy again.
“Alright sleepyhead, brush your teeth and go to bed. Need help getting up?” Jimin worried, fussing over you like any father to be would.
You stood up slowly, mindful of your dizzy head. But, when you stood at the sink you felt everything kinda snap into focus. Jimin dragged Jungkook out of the bathroom to let you do your thing, but told you to come get them if you needed anything.
Hurrying into the bedroom, Jimin narrowed his eyes at his boyfriend.
“Why did you look like you’d rather crawl into an overflowing storm drain than be in that bathroom? What happened when I was getting water?”
Jungkook looked up at Jimin could see the embarrassment on his face. Sighing, Jimin sat down, placing his hand on his boyfriend’s back.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have teased you in the car. It’s just, been a while you know? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable or anything,” Jimin apologized.
“Y/N felt it, my... When you moved me so you could get out of the bathroom to get her the water, she was pushed up against me. And, she pushed back against me and felt my dick against her,” Jungkook said, rubbing her face.
“Oh, that is... uh, awkward,” Jimin agreed.
“It gets worse,” Jungkook said.
“What do you mean?” Jimin asked.
“I-I told her it wasn’t because of her and then I tried to tell her it’s not that she wasn’t pretty and I just threw up a bunch of words that didn’t make sense and then you were back,” Jungkook whimpered.
Jimin sighed. Jungkook had never been a genius with words, but normally he was better than that. He knows that Jungkook is mortified, Jungkook wasn’t good at mingling or recovering from blunders of the social variety. So, Jimin just sighed and gave his boyfriend a gentle kiss.
“It’s okay Jungkook, Y/N isn’t gonna hold this against you,” Jimin soothed.
“I just feel terrible,” Jungkook said softly.
“Why? It was an accident,” Jimin reasoned.
“Because I-I didn’t want her to stop,” he swallowed. Jimin bit his lip and tried to keep his anger from spilling over.
“I don’t know how many times we have to talk about this Jungkook,” Jimin said.
“We were talking about it in the car! But we’ve never talked about what we want, what we’re doing now, it's not sustainable. I’m going crazy!” Jungkook yelled.
“Jungkook keep your voice down!” Jimin reminded.
“Jimin I’m so fucking confused, I don’t know what we’re doing. What I’m doing. I-I do know one thing for certain. I love those kids, so much, and they aren’t even here yet. I love them so much, because they’re ours... But... I can’t keep doing this. Getting closer only to rip myself away, it’s killing me Jimin. If you want me to walk away, I will but, I just can’t keep giving myself hope when there isn’t any,” Jungkook cried, tears falling down his cheeks.
“I-I didn’t know you were so broken up over this,” Jimin whispered.
“I’m so confused,” Jungkook whispered.
“I am too, I love you so much but... I feel this connection to her. I know it’s normal to be grateful, but, I know it’s more than that with her,” Jimin said, moving to give Jungkook a back hug.
“Then we need to make a decision,” Jungkook said.
“You want to pursue her as a part of our couple? Like, make her our girlfriend?” Jimin asked.
“Do you?” Jungkook asked back.
“I mean... I wouldn’t be opposed,” Jimin said softly.
“I don’t want this if you don’t,” Jungkook said, turning to look at Jimin with sparkling eyes.
“I want this... I want her, but, we need to give her some time, as well as ourselves to come to terms with this,” Jimin reasoned.
“Okay,” Jungkook agreed.
“But, when we’re both ready, we can approach her,” Jimin said.
“Would this be healthy to do? I mean, mentally,” Jungkook asked.
“Polygamous couples generally tend to have better communication than the average two person couples. And with one of us being a therapist I think we could manage. I-I want to work towards that,” Jimin confessed.
“I want this too,” Jungkook said excitedly.
“Then that’s what we’ll do...”
You laid in bed late into the night. You heard Jungkook and Jimin having a disagreement. You couldn’t make out the words but, the walls were thin... You prayed to God that it wasn’t about you, or anything related to the children.
Slowly, your hand trailed down to your stomach. You didn’t think you could see a bump yet, but maybe a little something? You weren’t sure, maybe it was just wishful thinking.
You moved slightly, and you felt something in your underwear. Adjusting lightly, you pulled them down to look, and you saw a decent amount of arousal soaking into the cotton fabric. Blushing bright red you reached down to touch your hot center, to find that you were, in fact, dripping wet.
Biting your lip you thought back on the bathroom incident. Jungkook’s firm body pressed against yours, his hardened cock pressed against your ass, the hot groan he let out. Running your fingers over your slit, you gathered your slick and pushed against your clit gently.
Shockwaves of pleasure ripped through you at the sensation.
“Oh!” You gasped, hand coming up to cover your mouth in fear of waking the boys.
You did it again, causing your body to jump slightly, making more of your arousal drip from your center. Licking your lips you thought about what Jungkook’s hands would feel like instead of yours. What his body would feel like pressed up against yours naked... Jimin’s plump lips flashed through your mind for a second, making you wonder what his blond head would look like between-
No!
No no no no no!
Ripping your hand away from your weeping core you turned over and placed your hands on your head.
How could you? Those two weren’t something to fuel your lonely fantasies! They are in love with each other, and are going to have a family... Albeit you had to help with that part but, still. Jimin and Jungkook weren’t yours... They were each other’s...
But as much as you tried to tell yourself that it would never happen...
You couldn’t help but dream of the two men’s hands running over your body...
Hot breaths touching your ears...
Taglist: @kittkat44, @giadalin, @kookachuwu
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astroboots ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Kill me softly
A Dave York x F!Reader one-shot
Rating: Explicit for strong smut
Wordcount: 8.5k (please don’t judge me)
Summary: Your husband is not the same man you married and that scares you sometimes. 
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Photo by Majid Rangraz on Unsplash  
Dedication: To my one and only amazing @yespolkadotkitty​ for beta reading and holding my hand like a baby chicken when I was too scared to post this. I love you so much. Read her far superior, soft and amazing Dave York here
Also to the two circus ringleaders @frannyzooey​ and @filthybookworm​ for their deranged masterpieces for Dave York. I am not the woman I used to be because of them. Go read it NOW. Here and Here.
@ourmotherofyearning and all our late night talks about scary thrillers that got me into this misguided mindset in the first place.
Note: If you want to skip the boring stuff - the smut starts halfway through. Don’t look at me please. 
[Masterlist] | {Playlist} | [Tag Sign-Up] [Read on Ao3]
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This man in front of you, is not your husband. 
He has all the physical characteristics of the man you married ten years ago. A gorgeously deep brown gaze that roots your feet to the spot whenever your eyes meet across any room. The very same, large bumpy nose, the tip always a bit cold when he presses his face into the nook of your neck from behind on chilly mornings before either of you have had the chance to have your caffeine. Still has the softest hair that seems to melt at your touch when you slip your fingers into the brown locks. Locks that quickly curl at the edges if he misses a hair appointment by more than a week. 
Except he rarely looks you in the eyes anymore, and he never spontaneously wraps his arms around you; and you can’t remember the last time you were curled up in his lap, hands nesting into those thick messy strands. 
Where there once was softness, it’s been replaced with a calm and oppressive hardness that speaks of an unfamiliar distance that cannot be breached. 
Somehow you seem to be the only one who notices. In this suburban neighbourhood with McMansions that scream middle-class american, the residents all welcome Dave amongst their midst. Always remarking, as you happen to run into them on their group power walks (despite your best attempts to avoid them) that you are so lucky to have Dave for a husband. 
Objectively, you know they are right. From the outside looking in, he is the perfect husband, always has been. A good-looking man with an impeccable work ethic that pays for the mortgage on your beautiful home. White picket fences, and a garden that can house that big Bernese Mountain dog he got for the girls on Christmas. He remembers all your anniversaries, and is always on time to pick up your daughters from ballet rehearsals when he’s home, and he even helps out with house chores. Always insisting on doing his own laundry and never letting you touch the dishes. 
But this is not David that you fell in love with, a man that playfully whispers te amo in your ear, as he cheekily pinches your waist, just because. This is some guy who calls himself Dave, the guy who comes around to the neighbourhood bbq cookout. Wears flashy ties and bespoke suits, with the white Colgate smile of a divorced car salesman. Your husband is not there, replaced by a bodysnatcher. 
Sometimes you’ll lie in bed together, about to go to sleep and you just look at him, brown eyes glued to the screen of his phone as he’s replying to a work email past midnight, and you want to grab him by the breadth of his shoulders, shake and rattle him back and forth, just to see if even a morsel of sincerity and something akin to genuine will accidentally fall out when he’s not looking and paying attention. 
You want to scream at him, inches from his face, so close you’d fog up his reading glasses, to ask him the questions that are so loud and constant in your brain it’s an echoing tinnitus, Who are you and what have you done to my husband? 
Entering the kitchen, you’re greeted by what should be the most idyllic scene. There’s an array of glitter pens and crafts supplies spilled across the farmhouse-style kitchen table. Dave is hunching over the table, as he’s teaching your daughter, Camille, how to spell Wisconsin with bright yellow crayons while Marianne, your oldest is on her phone playing Pokemon Go. 
By habit, your heart skips a beat at the sight of rolled up sleeves tucked to his forearm. The way the muscles underneath flexes as he leans across the table to pick up a pink pen for your baby daughter to draw a heart over her ‘i’. The morning sun is spilling in from the small kitchen window, and as Camille wipes her nose with the back of her hand, Dave chuckles, before he grabs a tissue to clean up the running snot. All that is missing is a catchy jingle, and this would be straight out of a cereal commercial. 
He hears you before he sees you, even though your feet are bare and make no noise as you enter. It’s an uncanny skill he has, picking up on signs of intrusion, always prepared to defend himself from an unseen enemy. There's a smile there to greet you, but nothing behind the eyes. 
Dave York smiles a lot, it just never quite reaches his eyes. The kind of practised smile you’d plaster on in front of the mirror while rehearsing for a presentation at work. It’s unnerving to look at and whenever he thinks you’re not looking, it blends into an ugly sneer of a smile, blank in its coldness that sends fine tremors up your spine. 
Helping Camille color in the wings of the unicorn in her drawing with a scorching pink, Dave tucks a loose lock of hair behind her chubby little ear. “I was called in at the last minute to attend a seminar in Brussels,” he tells you and you hum in acknowledgment as you brush past him towards the coffee machine. 
“I’ll drop off the kids at school before I head to the airport, so you might not see me before I leave for the flight.” 
“That’s a bit sudden. Something wrong?”
The corner of his lips curl upwards, still that fake unsettling smile. 
“No, Susan just wants me to attend a seminar with her, slated for early tomorrow, so I figured I’d take the flight this afternoon, schmooze with a few industry people to catch up, and I’ll be back by Friday night.” 
The coffee machine whirs in response as you drag the small cup to your lips. “Is everything alright?”
“Yes; of course.”
The back of his thumb drags across his lower lip, eyes flickering away from you to settle on the purple pony drawing. A tell tale sign that you know means he’s angry and frustrated. 
“Yes of course, as in everything’s fine? Or yes of course, let’s not talk about it because I want to avoid the subject?”
Shaking his head, there’s a small chuckle of, don’t be silly. 
“Everything’s fine, hon, you have to stop worrying so much.” 
Frustration pools in your throat, and you swallow the thick cloying resentment, teeth sinking into your lower lip. Why do you even bother?
Perhaps sensing your irritation, Dave looks up from the table and sets aside the crayon as he walks over to you, his hands, settling on top of your shoulder as he draws you in closer. “You don’t have to worry about anything. I’ll take care of everything. Always.” 
It’s what he always tells you. And you trust him when he says he’ll take care of everything, you’re just not sure you can push down that gut instinct that tells you, you don’t want to know how he takes care of it, and that makes you worry. 
His fingers curl gently under your jaw, tilting you upwards for a kiss. It’s pure instinct when you retreat from him, the slightest turn of your head, away from his lips. You don’t mean to be cruel. Just a knee-jerk reflex that you are unable to stop until it was too late. But you do feel cruel, when you see that he winces, eyes downcast with hurt surprise at the rejection. 
To your disappointment, he doesn’t press you on what’s wrong. Merely press his lips to your forehead instead. Chaste and cordial. A kiss you would greet an acquaintance with. 
“I’ll bring you back those Belgian chocolates you love,” he says, his facial expression schooled with an unreadable calm. 
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The alarm clock reads 01:08am when you jolt awake from the aggressive slam of the car door on your driveway, from the upstairs bedroom. You nudge the slatted blinds until only a splinter of the front porch light peeks through, allowing you to see the monstrous Chevrolet parked in front of the garage.
Bleary and slightly sleep-concussed, it takes you more than a minute to recognize the familiar gait of your husband as he marches up to the front door of your porch. There’s a struggle with the keys, hands trembling so jarringly, you think you can see it from the second floor. When you can hear him angrily curse at the door, you toss the heavy duvet from your legs and make your way downstairs to let him inside. 
Reaching the dark unlit hallway, there is a metallic rattle of keys scratching and angry pawing against the door. The sound akin to an angry animal trying to break its way into your home. Your hand linger on the handle of the door, the low feral growl on the other side gripping your spine in warning, followed by an angry, fuck, and a thump that makes you recoil in alarm at the menacing tone of it. Then there’s a hard kick, loud and forceful enough that you’re surprised it didn’t buckle the front of the door. 
It is enough to make you stand on the other side, as you steady your breath, with hesitation that stretches from one second then to several longer ones, willing it to stop. You’re scared of what it is you’re letting in, until you remind yourself that it’s only your husband and you unlock the door. 
The moment the lock clicks, the door opens with a force that throws you off the balance of your heel, and you step back further into the hallway, to the flimsy safety it offers. There’s a feverish pitch in his eyes as he pushes in through the door past you, without so much as a greeting or a kiss and slams the door behind him in a huffed hurry upstairs. 
“Dave,” you ask, “is everythi—”
“Everything’s fine” he bites out, cutting you off. Yanking the noose-tight tie off of his neck, with thunderous stomping upstairs, still wearing his shoes, his coat, not gracing you with so much as a glance as his looming figure retreats into the darkness of the stairs.
When you enter your bedroom, it is dimly lit only by the nightlight you had left on from before. He’s not in the room. But the sound of the running shower, and light spilling from the threshold of the ensuite bathroom alerts you of his whereabouts as you survey the disquieting state that he’s left your bedroom in. 
Dave is an A-type neat freak. Always have been. A leftover habit from his early military days, that used to endear you to him, because who doesn’t like being married to a man who never leaves his laundry in a pile on the floor, and always makes the bed to a hotel standard. 
It speaks to the mental state of his mind that the contents of his weekender bag have been dumped haphazardly over the bed. His clothes, strewn across the floor, muddy shoes on different ends of the room, one by the bathroom door, the other close to the foot of the bed. 
You knew better than to knock on the bathroom door and ask if he’s ok, you would never get any answer other than, everything’s fine, don’t worry about anything. 
Instead, you pick up one of the wrinkly shirts discarded on top of the bed, folding it neatly. Your fingers trace the soft cotton of the fabric when you notice it, a smudge of dark almost coppery red under the yellow light of your bedroom. 
Oh. 
A thick layer of red lipstick stark against the crisp whiteness of the perfectly pressed stiff collar. Right near that spot on his neck, under his jaw, that makes his toes curl when you kiss it. 
A surge of jealousy, that you didn’t even think yourself capable of anymore prickles your face. You swear you can taste the sickening smell of another woman’s perfume on his shirt. It makes your mouth water with anger.
Your thumb rubs at the smudge, and you don’t know what you’re doing. Maybe you’re trying to erase the evidence of your husband’s infidelity. The proof in plain red on a white unblemished surface that he no longer loves you. 
You keep rubbing, images of him with his fingers tightly gripping onto the hair of some young nubile little blonde with velvety red lips, wrapped around the thickness of his cock as she swallows him down. 
It’s not coming off. You spit on the fabric in a confused attempt to dilute the waxy oily pigment as the questions start flooding your mind in rapt succession. Is she better than you? Prettier and younger? Perkier and sweeter?
Listing all the cliches that you have ever learnt about why men cheat on their wives in your head, you realize that you have become one of them. You feel stupid and humiliated and you hate him for it. 
The red won’t come out, can’t be contained, it only spreads and forms an even larger blot of red in its wake. A wound that’s bleeding out in front of you. It takes you much too long to realize that lipstick doesn’t bleed into fabric in this way, and wine is much too thin to eat into cotton with such a thick substance in its wake.
Not lipstick. Not winestain. Blood. 
Thick, viscous, blood. 
You’re so caught up, you don’t hear that the sound of running water has stopped, the lightswitch flicking, and the bathroom door creaking open. Don’t feel the dark set of eyes that are cautiously studying you, until the menacing cold voice sounds out to you, ripping you from your daze. 
“What are you doing?” 
Looking up from the crumpled up shirt, you see him, a towel wrapped around his lower body, slung low around his waist. The shape of his hipbone peeks out from the grey towel, where it dips into that V-shape that makes your eyes linger far too long before you even take in the rest of him and it makes you remember for a brief moment in all the emotional turmoil you’re trapped in, that sometimes, your husband is a very handsome man. 
“I was trying to get the stain out.” 
His hand covers yours, and the warmth of his large palm, sends a tingling sensation that burns along your fingertips, straight to the tip of your ears, enough to make you lightheaded even as you’re sitting down. 
His tanned skin is still damp, with a sheen of wetness that almost glistens against his taut chest under the dim amber light of the bedroom. It makes him look softer somehow, edges less sharp. Your mouth hangs low, gaping dumbly at the sight of him. 
He takes the shirt from you, pausing with widened eyes, as his eyes are drawn to the red incriminating stain, smudged deeper with your frantic attempts to rub it out, and his eyes turn to you. 
If the rusty red of the stain hadn’t convinced you before, that split second panic in his eyes that he quickly tries to smother lets you know, it’s blood. 
“Why is there blood on your shirt?” 
There’s no answer from him at first, he merely throws it to the side, as it lands with a soft, soundless thud, only heard by your frantic anxiety, as it pools on the lush carpeted floor. 
“I don’t know maybe I got scratched or something.” He tilts his jaw up ever so slightly, exposing his long neck. It bulges and flexes as he does so, revealing that hollow dent that you loved to nuzzle your cheek into, dragging your nose to inhale the scent of him that on good days smells of warmth and just cleanliness. Despite yourself, you almost marvel at the beauty of it, and there’s a familiar heavy ache that pools in your belly, as you watch him rub at the back of his neck. 
“On your neck?” 
A very unlikely story, but there’s no point in telling him that. It’ll only get him defensive. 
There’s a casual smile and a shrug of, it’s no big deal, but there is a partition lurking behind his eyes. A demarcator meant to tell you that you are not to ask him.
“Something must’ve happened, or you wouldn’t be kicking down the door like a Trojan war horse in the middle of the night.”  
His thumb trails against his lip, as he opens his mouth to lie with one of his well rehearsed lines, but you cut him off before he does. 
“Do not keep telling me everything’s fine. I want you to answer my question. You come home in the middle of the night, with blood on your clothes—”
“It wasn’t—” he starts.
“Blood,” you repeat, standing firm. “That was blood. You might treat me like an idiot, and god knows maybe sometimes I am one, but do not tell me that wasn’t blood.” 
He’s carding through his wet darkened hair, tugging at it in irritation, “Honey it’s late, let’s go to bed, we can talk about this in the morning.” 
You are sick of this. So sick of the condescension and avoidant attitude. The way he’s locked you into the gilded cage of this suburbian home. Treats you like some stupid and dumb little thing, too weak to handle the realities of the outside world. 
“Stop bullshitting me. Tell me something real right now. Or I will grab the kids, get in the car, and you will never see us again.”  
There’s a silence between you so loud in its tension, it makes you want to clamp your hands tightly to your ears. 
You can see the internal fight playing out in his eyes, assessing you with a penetrating glare, as if he’s deciding whether he’s going to categorize you as an enemy or something that can be begrudgingly negotiated with. As angry as you are, you wonder if you’ve committed a fatal mistake in threatening to leave with the kids. Whether he’ll take it as a threat to his family, if he’ll determine that you have now become such a threat. 
If you’re an obstacle. How much effort would it take on his part to get rid of you? Probably not much, the man doesn’t look it, but you know how strong he is. The ease with which he used to pick you up from your night shifts and carried you the remaining distance home as you’d laughed; heels chafed and bruised from being on your feet all day. Would it be as easy to carry you over his back when your limp body is rolled up in a carpet?  
Your eyes flicker to the door behind him. If you wanted to leave, you would have to leave through him to get to the door. Looking into his eyes, your heart squeezes tight at the darkened glower you find there. 
Adrenaline kicks in and that classic fight or flight instinct springs to life. You try to estimate the distance between you and the reach of Dave’s arm. Try to calculate if there’s enough time for you to reach for the gun you keep in your nightstand. The one he gave to you to keep you safe when he’s not at home. That he taught you to use at a gun range, 2 miles out of town, when you first moved here. 
The memory of it is still clear in your head. The way he’d caged you in between his arms in that small little booth. Strong, steady hands resting on your hips as he corrected your stance and the height of the gun in your hand, and then he’d given you a demonstration with his own gun. Cradling the weapon with an earned familiarity. Three shots in quick succession, without hesitation and perfect precision. Three holes perforated in the middle of the head of the human silhouette. Like it was the easiest thing for him to do. 
No, you realize, not even close to enough time. Had the gun already been in your hand, that still wouldn’t have given you enough of an advantage over him. So you stay rooted on the bed, trying to pretend that you are still cooly possessed and not terrified. The silence of this moment stretches over the unbearable stillness. A rubber band waiting to snap from the tension of being stretched too far. 
He’s the first to blink, closing his half-hooded eyes with a sigh, hips cocked to the side as he rests a hand there. 
“I’m not lying when I say that all I want is for you not to worry. I want you to be happy here,” he finally says, with measured terseness. “Which, I know you aren’t. I know you haven’t been for a long time and I don’t know what i can do to make things better.” 
He comes to stand by the bed, sliding down to kneel in front of you as he puts his hands in yours folded over your lap. “Tell me what I can do to make things good for you, and I will.”
If you’re honest with yourself, there’s something very appealing to have a man like David York kneeling before you. That he lets himself be at your mercy, and despite your sense of preservation you can’t help the maternal instinct that kicks in. To care for him when he looks at you like some wounded, injured little thing. Let his head rest in your lap and tell him that everything’s going to be ok. But you fight the instinct, because you know perfectly well that the man knows how to push every single one of your buttons to evoke that easy bleeding empathy of yours. 
“Are you saying that because that’s what you think I want to hear?” 
There’s a wry humourless smile that curls twistedly on his cheeks at your question. Not a fake one. Just seeped in sadness that makes your heart ache for the man in a way that it hasn’t in years. His gaze falls on you, eyes lingering on the entwined hands, yours and his, in your lap until he finally draws up to your eyes and holds it there. 
“I wanted this to be a new start for us. The big house. You and the kids would be safe here. Things got really rough after Mac passed. I just… I don’t want us to go back to that. Don’t want you to have to see me like that again. I don’t want you to ever have to worry about being able to pay the rent, or worry that the kids are going to be lacking in anything in their childhood.” 
You think you see it now, the hardness in him, fossilised in the course of half a decade. The toll that the death of his mentor and friend had taken on him, and as if the world couldn’t wait to gloat, it took the found family he gained from his work and his sense of purpose in the world with him as well. Chiselled and chipped away at, until only the hardest enamel was left in place, and for the first time in years, you think you see him. 
Bringing one of your entwined hands to rest on his hollowed cheek, he turns his face until he’s able to brush his full lips over your fingertips, kissing them with a meekness that have you overcome, the anger subsiding, and any fight you had left in you is gone and you capitulate. 
“I’m not bullshitting you,” he whispers cajolingly as he tilts his head up until it rests against your forehead, still on his knees in front of you in a praying position. Like you’re a saint and he can only beg your forgiveness to absolve him. His face is too close, lips hovering above yours, close enough that you can feel his breath, and you can almost taste the mint of his toothpaste. 
So achingly close that even the slightest movement would push your lips to his. But he stays put as if waiting for your permission. Then you give it to him, reaching up to touch your lip with his. Small successive kisses that eat up the loneliness you’ve carried within you for months. Kisses that turn into bites and something immediately more urgent and desperate as his hand cups the back of your neck, pulling you closer, licking into your mouth, until you’re breathless and needy. 
There’s still a gnawing unresolved question. The fretting reminder that he hasn’t actually answered you, why was there blood on his shirt. 
“David,” you whisper against his lips, and you feel the pleased smile against your lips when he hears his full name, entirely too boyish and almost endearing. 
“I miss it when you say my name like that,” he tells you, mouth pressed hot over the line of your neck.  “Say it again.” An ask, not an order. Almost a plea and it’s heady and intoxicating. You like the idea that you can make a man like him beg for you. If that was true. 
His teeth graze against the shell of your ear, biting down on the hard curve, and you whine at the sensation. “Fuck... David.” 
“Again.” This time an order. You like that, too. His voice is gruff and demanding, chapped lips and open mouth dragging down your neck, to your sternum and bare stomach as he pushes up the worn t-shirt to your chest; hands splayed over your stomach until you lie flat on your back against the bed in the process.
You whimper his name, as your eyes roll back in your head, back arching towards him. There’s a tiny, barely audible voice in your head that warns you this is just a distraction on his part. Fuck you into complacency. 
But the other part of you thinks it’s unfair to treat his every action with suspicion, every attempt to make you happy as manipulation. Then there’s that voice you’ve suppressed for far too long in this house, the one that admits you’re starved for touch and affection from him, and why do you have to keep depriving yourself and make yourself miserable? Would it be so bad to let yourself accept a morsel of affection from a man that so clearly loves you and wants you? So you succumb. 
You shiver pleasantly at the open mouthed feel of him against the cotton of your panties, nose bumping into your clit separated only by thin fabric, as his tongue is licking your soaked panties, with a low groan at the taste, hands gripping tighter around your hips, as your toes curl into the sheets, hot anticipation settling in your stomach. Your fingers tightly curl into his dishevelled hair, wishing he’d grown it longer for a better grip. 
“I don’t want you to worry about anything ever again,” he says, slipping two fingers past his full lips, and when he pulls them out they’re slick with his saliva, a string of glistening silver bridging his fingers. “Because I’m going to take care of everything. Going to take care of you.” 
His hands, dry and warm, slide across your inner thigh, as they’re parting your legs, tugging at your panties to the side, until there’s a loud rip and the cold air of the bedroom exposes your sensitive folds. Then he presses two thick fingers inside of you in a smooth single movement, eased by how wet you already were and you let out a quakey moan as you feel the full girth of them stretch you deliciously. 
“I keep telling you this,” he rasps, fingers curled as they brush right against that soft spot inside you that makes your legs go numb with white sparks of pleasure. “And you never seem to learn. So I’m going to show you thoroughly this time, until you learn it properly.” 
David moves his hot mouth over your clit, the warm wetness of his tongue pressing down on you and all of a sudden your lungs are crackling and sizzling from it.
You hear your own voice chanting the word ‘fuck’ in the form of a litany and prayer, and as David sucks on your clit, your brain shortcircuits and you don’t know if you want more or to get away from the sensation entirely. Vaguely, you register that your foot is on his shoulder as you're trying to push away but David coils his arm, sturdy and firm, around your thigh to keep you in place, until you feel your thighs pressed tightly against the side of his ears, his tongue licking a long broad stripe through your folds that you can feel to the curl of your toes. 
“David, so good— please don’t—”
“Don’t what sweetheart?” he mocks, and without looking you know there’s a shit-eating smirk on his face. “You’re going to have to speak up.”
“Don’t stop—fuck, please don’t stop.” 
“I’m not going to stop honey,” he murmurs, in a rasped cajoling tone that vibrates alongside the inside of your thighs, lips chapped and scalding on your skin. “I’m going to give you—” he grabs at the flesh of your thighs, dragging you lower on the bed, closer to his face from where he’s kneeling, until you’re right where he wants you, “—exactly what you need.” 
His mouth, hot and wet, settles back against your clit, tongue lapping up the taste of you, with a focused intent and hunger that has you reeling. Your ears pick up the sound of David’s groans, the hum of the vibration against your pussy. You scream his name, begging him not to stop, while pleading you can’t take anymore. Because you’re sure from the tight sensation boiling inside you, right beneath your skin that you are about to burst from want and neediness. 
The firmness of the mattress disappears from under you as the pressure builds and builds. A tightly coiled knot in your abdomen waiting to unfurl and crack open inside of you. Your orgasm pulses out of you, trickling down your fingertips and all of a sudden you're weightless and lost in it. 
You don't know how long you stay like that, eyes fixed to the blank whiteness, before you become aware that you're on your bed staring up at the ceiling and that the static white noise you're hearing in your ears is your own harsh breath. 
Your eyes shift downwards and you see David gazing intently on you, eyes darkened with a hunger that wants to consume you. Staying rooted to his position, knees on the floor, until your eyes meet and you reach an outstretched hand for him, inviting him into your bed. 
Planting his knee on the mattress, the bed shifts as he joins you, his cock jutting against his stomach and your eyes are drawn to the glistening smear of precum on the flushed tip of his cock that makes saliva pool in your mouth, and all you can think of is how you want a taste of him. 
His right hand fists his cock with a few lazy strokes, the other grabbing your waist to pull you further up against the bed. 
“Spread your legs for me honey,” he orders before his thigh pushes against the insides of your  legs and nudges them apart. “You want to feel my cock inside you, no?’
You whine keenly at his words. When his voice goes in that deep register, the one that speaks of authority, and an expectation to be obeyed, it makes your  brain go fuzzy with arousal. It makes you  go absolutely cock-dumb for him and David knows it. 
His cock slides against your folds, the rigid shape of him maddening, until it slides wetly against your clit. The tip of him prodding and teasing against your opening, purposely not entering you. All you want is more. For him to fuck you already. You plant your heels on the mattress for a firmer hold to grind up against him, in some desperate attempt to slip him inside of you that only makes him push you back down against the mattress with a dark chuckle. 
“You’re such a needy little thing for me aren’t you?” he teases. Intuitively you try to rub your  thighs together for relief from the ache that builds when you hear his voice, low and rasping in your ear, but as soon as you do, David clasps at your knee keeping them spread open, the colder air of the bedroom against the inside of your thighs as you hear him hum in that low predatory tone. “But that’s okay, I need you too.” 
He settles your legs over his shoulder, pulling you closer, until the reassuring heat of his firm chest is pressed up against the back of your thighs. “Need your legs wrapped around me,” he murmurs, pinning you with a hungry look in his eyes. “Need you to scream my name when I fuck my cum inside you.” 
Pushing  the thick tip of his cock into you, a convulsing breath tears from your lips as you break open for him. David takes his damn time when he eases into you, going agonizingly slow, and you are sure that it’s pure sadism on his part to torture you that makes you both love and hate him a little bit more, all wrapped in a confusing cocoon of want. 
The warm amber of your night light illuminates half of his face, the other hidden in the darkness of the room, half of him lost to you. His face is a work of art, a Rembrandt painting, sharp strong curves, and the most lovely expressive eyes when he feels something and actually shows it. It’s all you can do but to reach out for him, fingers tangling into his hair, pulling his lips to yours and when you do, it’s like the last bit of his finely controlled restraint snaps. David thrusts his hips fully into you, with a low content moan as he finally bottoms out inside of you. 
“You feel so fucking good, every single time. So fucking perfect for me.” 
His words surges through your spine until it is left searing against the back of the cool bed sheet, and then you can feel him move again, his pace rough and hard as he keeps pushing himself into you in long and hard strokes and you are willing to let yourself completely fall apart in front of him. To let him be completely in control of everything. His cock hits somewhere deep inside you and you dig your  heels against his strong back to keep him there. David’s pace falters for a calculated second as he holds himself in place for you as if he knows exactly what you need, and then somehow he circles his hips and snaps upwards, shoving himself a few inches deeper and it’s so good it has you twitching and convulsing against him. 
You moan wantonly in a voice that you barely recognised anymore, it sounds crazed and needy, your hips lifting off the bed trying to meet every one of his thrust inside of you, but your  pace is far sloppier compared to his. 
All your brain functions are being distilled to the raw aching need of being fucked by him, being filled by David, until there’s so much of him that you can’t fit anymore of him in you and still you want more.
“Deeper,” you plead and David’s hand shoots out to wrap both your wrists in a menacingly strong grip to pin them down above your  head, holding you down. 
“Deeper?” he growls roughly with a harsh snap of his hips, “Don’t worry honey, I’ll fuck you as deep as you need me to.” 
“When I’m done, you’re going to feel me. Every time you sit down. Each time you move,” he tells you, voice sounding almost a threat. 
Forceful thrusts punctuating each word that grits through his teeth, “In every” thrust “fucking” and another “breath.”
Thick fingers wrap themselves securely around the front of your throat, and it’s entirely depraved how a tendril of thrill sparks through your entire back with his hands around you this way. How you feel the rush of wetness coat your thighs slickly, spilling down the entire base of his cock. 
If he wanted to, this man could crush your windpipe with little ease, just a hard squeeze that doesn’t let up. Until your vision darkens and the world around you fades away, and maybe it’s naivety, maybe it’s pure idiocy. But you tell yourself that whatever happens, whoever this man becomes, you are the one person he would never harm. 
“Fuck, honey, you like that?” he rasps, pulling all the way out of you and the emptiness has you fluttering and clenching unsatisfactorily, until David slams all of himself back inside you with a deep, consuming stretch. 
You hear yourself scream into the bedroom as you feel the thick satisfying length of him strike that sweet spot that you're never able to reach on your  own. It makes your lungs cave in and you swear he’s so deep you can feel him everywhere. He leans down, crashing his lips in a bruisingly rough kiss, as he continues to rut into you. 
He watches you, as you try to moan and cry at the pleasure overtaking you but nothing is coming out. Instead, your whole body is trembling and quaking in response to him. Unable to stop the tremor as you try to cling onto his shoulders. He grins at the sight of you, pinning down your wrists harder against the mattress, and you have no choice but to take it. Take each and every one of David’s pounding thrusts into you that are almost punishing in its force. 
Deep and hard, just like you had wanted him. 
“Fuck, baby. Do you see how you’re fucking leaking for me?” He says it like a praise and you look down between you, to the obscene sight of your cunt wrapped around the thick girth of his cock, glistening slick with your wetness and for a moment you worry that you're going to ruin the sheets. Then the intimidating length of his cock disappears inside of you, and you groan like you're in heat at the sight and feel of it. “See that? Isn’t that pretty?” 
His thumb presses down on your clit before it slips further down, swathing your folds in your own liquid arousal, before you feel the tip of his finger press down to where he’s already filling you up so fully. 
Panic bubbles up in you, because you can’t possibly take more of him. “David, David,” you try to grab for his wrist, to pull him back up, but he won’t budge. His thrusts slow, a feral grin on his lips, with a hand firmly set between your thighs, as two fingers press inside you, alongside his cock. 
“It’s okay, you’re doing so fucking well.” 
You almost scream at the sensation of being stretched to your limits, and you would have if not for the strong hold of his other hand covering your mouth while he hushes you. “I just want to give you a taste baby.” 
His fingers slide out, coated in your arousal, and bring them to your mouth, feeding you the slick pads of his fingers, not satisfied until he feels your tongue swirl against them. And when you do, when your mouth is filled with your own taste, sweet and tart on his fingers, there’s a proud smile on his face. 
“See how fucking good you taste?” he tells you. “I can’t ever get enough of it.” 
His hips resume their movement, ending the short reprieve he afforded you as he slowly rocks into you and picks up his pace again. You feel  the weight of his body pressed against your  own. The scent of him, linen and soap, distinctly clean. It’s like your world is filled with him and you don't want it to stop. Your jaw tilts upwards, vision filled with luminous brown eyes, and for a moment, you see him, the man you had married and love. 
There’s a low, rough grunt in your ear, “I want you to come for me again honey. Want to feel you tight and wet as you come all over my cock. Can you do that for me?”
His voice is a coiling smoke, wrapping around your abdomen, and it builds and builds and builds, until the tension becomes too large to be contained inside of you.
It’s too much. You are on the precipice of falling from the edge of the world and every instinct in your  body tells you that you will shatter into a million pieces when the end comes. And still your  brain has gone truly stupid because instead of trying to escape, it tells you to yield and let yourself succumb to it. 
Then everything crashes down, you panic at the sensation that pulls you under and you try to clutch to any part of David you can for comfort. Your nails dig sharp into the firm muscles of his broad back, until you feel his hips jerking raggedly against you with a razored inhale of pained breath. The warmth of his skin and flesh under the palm of your hands, and you hear his voice in your ear with a feral murmur, “te amo, te amo, te amo,” over and over again, a desperation to be believed, because if he repeats it enough, maybe you will. 
Then finally, you let go. 
Everything else falls away, bursts of pleasure filling every corner of your veins. It trickles over your  legs, wrapping you in the warm and overwhelming comfort of it. You don’t remember how to breathe anymore, but you don’t think you need to because your lungs are so filled and everything feels so good that you're sure that you will never need for anything else in your life but this sensation. 
You lay there spent, and you don't know how long it takes before your  senses flicker alive again until you hear the sound of David’s harsh breathing coming somewhere above you. Brown tendrils fall across his brow, and there’s a light sheen of sweat across his forehead. He’s looking at you with a crazed expression in his eyes and you are mesmerised by how beautiful he looks like this. You want to feel him come apart inside of you. Because of you. Feel him spill himself inside of you warm and thick. 
Which is exactly what you tell him. You tell him how good he feels inside of you, how much you’ve missed him inside you. That you never want him to stop, and his eyes snap to yours, pace faltering, his leg shaking as he drags himself away from you before slamming back inside. 
“I want to feel you come inside me, fill me up with it. Please… Want you...”
The brown in his irises flashes, and he lets out a strained tortured grunt. Fingers curling into the plump flesh of your hips with an efficient grip as he lifts you up into a sitting position in his lap, pressed flush against his chest. He’s close, so incredibly close, arms encasing your torso, face buried deep into your neck, not an inch of your skin not covered by him. Another sharp thrust drags across your insides and it’s like you can feel the shape of him trying to imprint himself inside of you. Like he’s trying to permanently bury himself there and never leave, and you kind of hope he never does. 
There’s a tick in his jaw that almost looks painful, and you want to brush over it with your fingertips to soothe it, and as you do, his mouth collides over yours, taking your sounds from you, palms gripping your ass, forcing you down on him, rough and unhinged, leaving not a single inch of your insides unfilled by him. Once, twice, and then you feel it, the harsh twitches of his cock inside you as he growls against you. Pulses that have you both falling apart.
David’s chest is heaving heavily through harsh breaths with a dazed unguarded expression in his face that has you threading your finger through his hair and he shivers at the fine contact with a quiet, almost vulnerable, whimper that is so unlike him. 
His lips are on yours, through heavy pants of his breathing as he tries to recover, a series of brief unbroken kisses before he shifts both of you back down on the mattress. You can feel the pace of his breaths slow against your lips with each kiss until eventually it’s just a sedate undemanding pace of tiny licks against your  tongue. 
If it was always like this between you, things would have been easy. The man lying next to you with soft eyes and a content, sleepy smile is incredibly easy to love. 
“I love you, David.”
For the longest moment, he doesn’t say anything, face unreadable. Then his arms reach for you, pulling you into his chest, until you settle on top of him as he nestles into your neck, into that familiar position, where he buries his nose into the clavicle of your collarbone, the fit of a locksmith’s cut key to a home. 
“I love you, too.” 
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In the morning, you wake to an empty bed on your right side. Cold sheets that tell you, you’ve been alone in the bed for a long time. The alarm clock shines an alarming red 7:23am, that almost burns your sleep-blurred eyes. 
Knowing him, disciplined as he is, he’s already been up for hours by this time. Gone for a run, answered emails, paid bills and taken care of every big and small detail of his life before you’ve even set foot out of the bed. Part of you almost doesn’t want to leave the bed, and wants to linger in the safe bubble of yesterday. You wonder if he’s going to be his other self again, distant and moody when he thinks you’re not looking, or if there was a hint of truth in last night that will, maybe, lead to a better change. 
With a weariness that lingers in the marrow of your bones, you finally muster up the energy to leave the bed, and make your way downstairs to the kitchen, where David is already sitting by the kitchen island, impeccably dressed in an ironed suit, even though it’s a Saturday. You find yourself lingering by the door, trying to figure out who it is that you’re going to be facing today, your husband, or, the bodysnatcher Dave York. 
“Morning, honey,” he says with a smile, a soft one that starts in his eyes before it even reaches his lips and as he does, you let out a long relieved breath you didn’t know you were holding. “You want coffee?”
Busying yourself with the small metal tin, scooping out the grounded coffee beans, his arms wrap around you from behind, and there’s a slow warmth that blooms from your stomach upwards until it crowds your chest. That large hawk nose of his, digging into the hollow of your neck, with a deep-sated sigh as he takes you in, the nub of his nose, a little bit cold, as it rubs against you.  
“Sleep well?” 
You smile, humming in approval, as you feel his fingers slip under your shirt to curl at the bare skin he finds there, dragging you flush against his front, and for the first time in years you feel genuinely happy and safe. 
The rest of the day goes by in a busy flurry. There’s breakfasts, and laundry, and errands to run, but everytime you look back David is there, and everytime you look his eyes are still soft and present, and you’re reminded that everything is fine now. Camille wakes, cranky and sourly at 11, until Sam, one of David’s friends from the office, comes over with his daughter for their playdate. For two five year old girls, the two have the lung capacity of 60’s rock stars as they scream up a storm in your living room, and you only shake your head as you hand over a cup of coffee to Sam with a chocolate truffle that David had brought home for you from Brussels. 
Sam accepts it, with a sheepish smile, saying, “Thanks doll, sorry to turn up like this. I know you probably would have wanted to cancel after what happened with Susan, but the little one just wouldn’t take no for an answer.”
Your head turns to Sam in confusion, as you bring the second cup you’d prepared over to David from where he was sitting by the counter. “What happened to Susan?”
Sam looks at you, surprise clouding his expression for a brief moment, before he quickly turns to David with a wordless question in his eyes, the question of, you didn’t tell her? 
“Sam?” You repeat. “What happened to Susan…?”
His hand fiddles awkwardly in his lap, deliberating his next words. “Maybe it’s best if I didn’t tell you. It might be better if you heard it from Dave.”
There’s stiff tension set to David’s jaw, at the man’s word. The tightness of his lower jaw grinding down with a hardness in his shoulders that feels chilling even from where you were standing. 
“Sam,” you snap, the third time now. “What happened?”
“Susan was attacked in her hotel room in Brussels and killed. We don’t have details yet, but we think it might have been a robbery.”
Blood stains of copper brown, red against white cotton, burn behind your eyelids. 
Your eyes flicker to David’s, hoping something in there will tell you otherwise, but his eyes refuse to meet yours, thumb pressed against his lower lip, avoidantly, and you know. 
There’s a cacophony of white noise ripping through your ears, knees buckling from under you as the tiled floor below your feet seem to sink and warp into soft unsteady sand. You stand there looking at the man in front of you, cold and distant, and there’s a sickening bloat in your stomach, feels dizzying. Your mouth tastes sour with bile and you are convinced that you are going to vomit. 
Last night’s performance, because that is what it was, a sham. The vulnerability you thought you’d been privy to, a ruse he’d specifically tailored, just for you. Some of his finest work, and you, in your desperation to justify your need to love and be loved by this man, had swallowed it, hook line and sinker, eating it up. 
A pathetic goldfish in a small fishbowl starving for affection. 
You had been so thoroughly played. 
The man in front of you right now may be your husband. The father of your children. The love of your life. But he’s also a murderer. 
Fin.
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goatsenpaiultimate ¡ 3 years ago
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You are different (Xiao x Manga Author! Reader) College AU- CH.1
Manga Author Reader x Xiao
Summary: You are a young manga author in your last year of college and you befriend a sophomore named Xiao who’s lonely and touch starved who takes a liking to you and he really loves your Manga. Question is, will you tell him that you wrote the Manga he loves so much? Will it break the trust he has in you?
----------------------------
After your fated encounter in class, Xiao began to start following you around. At first at a distance, watching you from afar, whether it was in the hallways, just walking across campus, or even in the cafeteria, he'd sit a few tables away from you and watch you scribble away in your journal, that is, until you finally caught him and waved him over to sit at your table.
With a flustered face, he grabs his stuff and shyly makes his way to your table, taking a seat across from you, looking down into his lap.
You smile and close your journal and rest your hands on top of it.
"Xiao? You know you can just come up to me and talk to me, right? You don't have to keep your distance." You say, tilting your head
You see him slowly look up at you with a beat red face.
"I'm....glad to hear you say that, I don't have many friends..."He said, looking everywhere but at you.
That made your heart clench just a bit. Xiao seemed like a nice enough guy, sure his resting face was a bit off putting, but once you talked to him, he was really sweet and adorable.
"Well, now you do, so, no more of following me around anymore okay? I want us to be able to walk beside each other and talk to each other, okay?" You say, quirking an eyebrow.
He nodded vigorously. content with just that. ----------------------
Over the next couple of weeks, you and Xiao only got closer to each other, you started hanging out more off of campus and outside of your classes. Shared many laughs, you gave him lots of hugs (the first time you did, it took several minutes for you to convince him to let go) and lots of head pats as well. You noticed Xiao responded especially well to physical touches and praise. It made you wonder about how his home life was growing up. What his parents must've been like. You of course didn't ask, because you don't want to step on any boundaries or make him uncomfortable.
You set your pencil down, letting that thought linger in your mind. You weren't going to get much writing done tonight worrying about Xiao, so you hop on your bed face first into the pillow and let yourself relax. Being in college while having a successful manga sure took a toll on you, not to mention making free time to spend with Xiao.
Speaking of, you're phone vibrated and you groaned and lazily reach for your phone on your nightstand and lifted your head to see what was on the screen. It was from Xiao and....he'd been kicked out of his apartment by his roommates!
You quickly sit up and call his number, hoping this was a joke.
He picked up and from the way he said hello, you can tell he was trying not to cry.
"Xiao, what happened?!"You ask frantically, worried he was on the street already. "My...My roommates kicked me out. They told me they want to move their friend in and I was bullied into breaking my lease. It happened earlier today..."He said, sniffling.
You were practically shaking with rage as you stood up and went out into the living room to put your shoes on.
"Xiao, where the fuck are you right now?" You asked, grabbing your car keys and your coat.
"Y/n, you really don't have to-"
"Tell me. Now."
".....I'm sitting under one of the pavilions in the middle of campus. "He said, almost so quiet, you didn't hear it.
"Stay right there, I'm gonna come and get you. "You say, and hang up before he can protest. ------------ Once you arrive, you see Xiao sitting under a pavilion with his head in his hands and two suitcases.
You march up to him and he looks up in time to see you grab his suitcases and start dragging them to your car.
"Come on Xiao, let's go." You say, loud enough for him to hear.
He slowly got up and quietly trailed behind him.
He felt sad and ashamed. He was scared you were upset with him. Disappointed in him that he didn't stand up for himself, which was the exact opposite. You were livid...at his roommates. How could they do that to someone like Xiao. He kept to himself, he was neat and he was sweet.
You put his bags in the trunk and slammed it shut, before hopping in the driver's seat.  Xiao got in the passenger's seat and quietly buckled up as you began to drive off.
The ride was very quiet for the first several minutes, until Xiao spoke up.
"....where are we going?" He asked/
"To my apartment, silly goose. No way are you gonna live on the streets on my watch. I've got a spare bedroom I use for when my Mom comes to visit, but I'm gonna let you use it instead. We can pick the rest of your stuff up tomorrow, okay? "You say, glancing over at him before turning your attention back to the road.
Xiao, once again flustered, just nodded. You really were something different. Something special. You cared about him. You hadn't even known him that long and you were offering your home to him. Xiao felt like the luckiest guy on the planet. A chance to get closer to you was greatly welcome ------------------------- Sorry this is kind of long! Hope I didn't ramble or anything. It's late and my brain is dead tonight T-T
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cosmicjoke ¡ 3 years ago
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Okay, so here we go!  Chapter 1 of “No Regrets”!  
There’s a few things I want to point out about this chapter, because both visually and textually, we get a lot of information about the Underground and Levi, and his relationship with Isabel and Furlan.  So I’ll just go through it.
The first thing that really caught my attention for this chapter was the opening page, which is a retrospective shot of Levi after he’s joined the SC, thinking about how he can’t ever know what the results of his choices are going to be.  He says here “I trusted in my own strength... I trusted in the decisions of comrades who had earned my faith...”  And this quote from Levi is really important in later understanding why he makes the choice he does, at the end.  He says he trusted in the decisions of comrades who had earned his faith, and that tells us that Levi believes in Furlan and Isabel, that he believes in their strength and their capability, that he believes in them enough to let them choose for themselves and trust in their judgement.  We’ll obviously delve more into this as it becomes more relevant to the story.  But moving on...
The next thing to catch my attention is the panels of the Underground we see.  These are probably the best shots of this place we get in the whole series, as it really depicts a place that is totally run down and dilapidated, with buildings falling apart and crumbling in disrepair, filth ridden streets with literal sewage water coming out of drain pipes, and a actual cave cover overhead, complete with stalactites, blocking out all sunlight except for few and far between pockets which break through holes in the rock ceiling.  The most telling panels though are the ones which depict the violence and poverty of the place.  We see a panel of a homeless man passed out on the street, painfully thin looking, and under him, two men in a fight, one beating the other violently.  And the next panel shows us a little girl, sitting barefoot on the ground between two men who have just blown each other’s brains out with guns.  Truly, this is a violent, dark, poverty-stricken place that breeds crime and depravation.  The pages before this say that BECAUSE of the splendor of the Capital city above the Underground, this place exists, and that’s accurate.  Because of the excesses and decadence of the rich and well off above these people rejected by society, that means fewer resources for the less fortunate.  It’s truly tragic.  
Alright, now I just want to move on to some small, but telling moments here while Levi and the others are being chased by Erwin and his crew.  
When Isabel is bragging about how the MP’s never learn, referring to how they’ll never be able to catch their gang, she asks Levi if what she said was cool.  Levi tells her “Don’t be stupid.”  This might seem like Levi just blowing her off, but the way I read it, it seems more to me like Levi is warning her not to be cocky, not to be over confident, because that’s the kind of thing that can get you killed, or caught.  Big Bro indeed!   We also see how mindful Levi is here as a leader, when he tells them they can’t afford to lead the soldiers following them straight to their hideout, and clearly they have a plan in place for just this sort of thing.
More importantly, Levi is fast to realize these aren’t ordinary soldiers after them, which shows his great instincts, but what’s really interesting is his internal thoughts here.  His logic is telling him regular MP’s wouldn’t work this hard to catch them, and that their skill with the ODM means they must be SC.  But Levi doesn’t really believe it which, given what we later find out about the deal with Lobov, and Lobov warning them of Erwin’s plans, tells us that Levi never really believed the SC would come after them.  He’s clearly surprised here.
Further, after informing Isabel and Furlan and confirming his suspicions, he tells Furlan that he’s got no intention of getting mixed up with “these guys”.  This tells us Levi never wanted to go through with Furlan’s plans, never wanted to join the SC, never wanted anything to do with any of it.  There’s further evidenced in this very chapter, which I’ll get to in a moment.  But it tells us a lot about the dubious feelings Levi had from the start, and how he probably would have simply been happiest to stay in the Underground with his friends, even though it was a hard life.  
Alright, so, this next part is a big deal, and it’s an overlooked detail which speaks volumes about the kind of person Levi is.  I didn’t even notice this the first time I read it, so I want to talk about it.  Levi separates from Isabel and Furlan, and takes Erwin and Mike on a wild chase through the back alley’s and narrow passages of the slums.  He really tries to give them the run around here, until he flips over a door, into another area.  What’s really important here is Levi’s dialog.  He says first “... Lost ‘em, huh?”  And then he says, “That got a little crazy...  I hope... none of them crashed.”  This is kind of amazing.  Levi is showing actual concern for the two soldiers who’d just attempted to catch him and his friends, who were doggedly pursuing them with obviously bad intentions of some kind.  And Levi, after having to resort to some serious ODM skills to shake them, says he hopes that none of them crashed.  He doesn’t want Erwin or Mike to get hurt, he just wants to get away from them.  Considering he doesn’t know either of them at this point, they’re just nameless, faceless military dogs trying to mess things up for him, that shows remarkable character.  
Of course, things go downhill from there, when Mike crashes through the door and tackles him.  All bets are off then, because Levi’s life is now in danger, and when that happens, he’ll resort to physical force.  Still, he only throws Mike off of him and once again attempts to get away, only for it to be Erwin who swoops down and cuts Levi’s cables.  This was actually really dangerous.  Given Levi’s momentum and position, he crashes hard into a nearby wall before falling to the ground.  So we already see some of that ruthlessness from Erwin here.  Of course, that spurs Levi into violence himself.  I have no doubt that when Levi lunges for Erwin and knocks his blade away, bringing his knife to his neck, he truly intended to kill him in that moment.  Levi’s compassion for these soldiers can only go so far, considering the desperation of his own circumstances.  If Mike hadn’t been there to stop it, I think Levi probably would have ripped Erwin’s jugular right out, and that would have been that, lol.  And then, it’s important to note too WHY Levi stops.  Not because Mike was able to physically restrain him, but because he tells Levi to look around himself, directing his attention to the fact that Furlan and Isabel have been caught.  That immediately stays Levi’s hand, and once again, we’re shown how Levi puts the wellbeing of his friends above himself.  He could have ditched Furlan and Isabel right then and there and escaped on his own.  Instead, he allows himself to be restrained and cuffed.  He refuses to abandon them.
Now the next scene is hugely important to a lot of stuff.
Erwin’s got Levi and his friends down on their knees, in the sewage, questioning them about their ODM skills, and the three of them stay silent, obviously defiant.  We really get a good look at Erwin’s abilities as a manipulator here.
He’s pulling the whole good cop/bad cop routine on Levi, when he tells him “I’d like to avoid any rough treatment if I can” before looking to Mike in a clear signal for Mike to pretty damn violently tear Levi’s head back by his hair before smashing his face into the sewage on the ground.  And this really IS sewage.  It’s not mud.  If you look at the panels, we see this brown muck coming out of drain pips attached to the surrounding buildings.  This water is probably, literally, dirty with feces, and Erwin has Mike put Levi’s face in this and hold it there.  Now let’s remember something important about Levi.  He’s a clean freak.  He obviously cares deeply about keeping both himself and his environment clean.  Erwin couldn’t know this about him at the time, but nobody of course would be happy about having their face shoved into literal shit.  But for Levi, I can only imagine this had to be tantamount to a kind of torture.  Erwin keeps questioning him, looking down at him without any kind of emotion, and Levi remains stubbornly silent, despite how awful this must truly be for him.  We get a close up of Levi’s eye in one of the panels, paralleled with Erwin’s own, and Levi’s expression really strikes me as one of awful humiliation.  He goes from looking up at Erwin in rage, to looking away, staring straight ahead, while Erwin keeps looking down at him.
Still, Levi says nothing, and it’s Isabel who finally cracks, telling Erwin that they didn’t learn to use ODM from anyone, with Furlan further explaining that they taught themselves as a means of survival.  He remarks that “anyone who doesn’t know what sewage tastes like couldn’t understand!”.  Clearly, both of them are really upset to see this being done to Levi, and I have to imagine it’s at least in part because they know how awful an experience this has to be for him, given that they know how much he desires to stay clean.  Their shocked expressions when Mike first pushes Levi’s face into the sewage says as much too.
But still, Levi remains silent as Erwin then demands to know Levi’s name.  What Mike does to Levi in the next panel is even worse.  He pushes his face into the sewage and holds him there until Levi literally starts to choke in it, for long enough that, when he finally does pull him up, Levi is gasping for breath.  I really don’t see people talk enough about this scene, but, well...
It’s a torture scene.  Erwin is ordering Mike to torture Levi here.  It may not be the most extreme form of torture, it isn’t the type of physical violence we typically think of when we think of torture, but that’s what it is.  It’s causing Levi both physical and mental degradation, as well as physical distress.  
Even with this though, Levi’s still silent and refuses to answer Erwin at all.  
It’s only when Erwin literally threatens the lives of Furlan and Isabel that he finally talks.  This is such an important detail.  Levi was willing to take what to him must have been truly horrific treatment, but as soon as Erwin gives the signal to the other two Scouts who have hold of his friends, we see Levi’s expression shift from defiant rage to wide eyed fear as they put their blades to Furlan’s and Isabel’s throats.  
Finally Levi talks, calling Erwin a “bastard”, to which Erwin simply asks him again what his name is, and after a slight hesitation, Levi finally gives it.  
I think this entire scene is vital in understanding WHY Levi was so violently pissed at Erwin, to the point of wanting to kill him.
I think it’s a combination of both the humiliation and torture he puts Levi through here, and, worse still, the fact that he threatens Isabel and Furlan’s lives.  Levi already feels looked down upon by Erwin here, he already feels humiliated and embarrassed and as though he’s being treated like he’s worthless, because Erwin IS treating him like that here.  All while Erwin stands there, expressionless, making statements like he doesn’t want to have to use any rough treatment, etc... while at the same time ordering Mike to do just that.  Already, Erwin is sending Levi the message that he’s a liar and a manipulator who thinks nothing of putting another human being’s face in shit.  And then, to top that off, he shows Levi that he’s willing to hurt, maybe even kill, his two friends to get what he wants.
Is it any wonder Levi hated Erwin as much as he did at the beginning?  After a lifetime in the Underground where, from the time of his birth, he had to deal with him and those he cares about being treated like worthless trash.  It would be a miracle if Levi DIDN’T want to kill Erwin at this point.  To have to then submit to him willingly, after all of that, must have been beyond humiliating for him.
Erwin continues to be manipulative here too, when after Levi gives his name, Erwin’s attitude suddenly shifts, and he smiles at Levi and gets down on one knee with him, in the filth, his entire demeanor seeming to shift into an abruptly friendly one as he offers his deal to Levi.  Again, that whole good cop/bad cop thing.  At the same time, he continues to threaten Levi by telling him if he refuses his offer, he’ll hand them all over to the MP’s and that, given their crimes, they shouldn’t expect to be treated with any kind of decency.  What’s kind of funny about this statement from Erwin is that up until now, Erwin and Mike have done anything but treat Levi decently. 
Okay, one more important point to make about this chapter, and it goes back to what I said earlier about Levi not wanting anything to do with the SC, and how that tells us Levi really didn’t want to go through with Furlan’s plans.
After Erwin makes his offer, we see Levi look over at Furlan, who’s giving him an intent look, and in the next panel, we see an almost surprised, or astonished look on Levi’s face, like he can’t believe Furlan is asking him to do this, before he grits his teeth in obvious frustration, and then accepts Erwin’s offer to join the SC.  What this tells us is that Levi only takes Erwin’s offer because Furlan wanted him to.  Because this was all part of Furlan’s plan, to go through with Lobov’s commission, to get caught by the SC, etc...  It’s clear Levi never wanted this, and he’s upset at having to do it.  But the fact he agrees after looking over at Furlan and seeing him implore Levi with his eyes tells us, once again, that Levi is willing to sacrifice his own desires for the desires of others.  That being his two friends.
For them, he’ll join the Survey Corps, even as every one of his instincts is probably screaming at him that this is a bad idea.
Anyway, those are my thoughts for the first chapter of “No Regrets”.  There’s a lot more to unpack in this manga than I think people realize.  I hope whoever took the time to read my long ass post found it at least a little worth while.  I’ll be moving on to chapter two next!
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606writings ¡ 4 years ago
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SC: Depression [Lucien]
A/N: This was definitely not the best I could do but I wanted to finish this one no matter what! This is slightly based on an experience I had with an anxiety attack and depression, so I’m not sure if it will be relatable for you all, but I really hope you enjoy❤
Genre: Little bit of angst and kind of fluffy.
Word count: 2,672.
It was a wonderful and sunny day, perfect for a walk and eating something refreshing and sweet, so you thought it would be a good idea to pay your boyfriend a visit to his office and drag him out of there to walk with you, since you were sure he probably has been stuck for a long time in his laboratory working his ass off, as always.
I should’ve brought something less sweet for Lucien, maybe he hasn’t eaten yet…
You were wondering if it was better to go back and get him a salad or something healthy and fresh to eat first, but quickly brushed off the idea as you were entering the building, too late to go back to home.
I hope I won’t be getting on his way by coming here without a notice.
You started fidgeting with the bag of ice creams in your hands, walking up the stairs directly to his office, but you were frozen by the sight of a beautiful, tall, and well-dressed woman walking down the hallway at the same time as Lucien opened his office’s door and stepped out with a graceful smile to welcome the woman, without noticing your presence just a few meters behind him.
“Professor Lucien! I’m so excited to work with you today!” The woman curved her red velvet lips forming a wide smile, placing her left hand on your boyfriend’s shoulder with a delicate movement.
You only stood there for a few seconds as they greeted each other, but you could only notice how she batted her lashes with hints of nervousness, and she wouldn’t stop smiling and leaning her body towards Lucien, in a clear sign of attraction.
Lucien was acting just as eloquent and professional as ever, but he was obviously smart enough to notice the woman’s behavior.
“Should we continue talking inside? There’s a lot of work waiting for us.” The calm and sophisticated voice of your boyfriend interrupted your analysis over her, and you could react just after the door was shut behind them, leaving you expectant at the last stair step.
Slightly confused you looked around you not knowing what to do, when you spotted one of Lucien’s coworkers you sometimes talked to, and approached him.
“Excuse me, sir.” You smiled lightly as a polite salute, as he turned around and smiled back at you. “I’m sorry, is professor Lucien busy right now? I came by surprise and wanted to say hi to him.”
“Oh, dear, what a sweet girlfriend you must be.” The man chuckled, making you blush slightly. “But unfortunately, yes. Professor Lucien just received an important guest today! We were all in the building so eager to meet her, she is Maria Irwin!”
The old man in front of you seemed pretty excited just by telling you her name, as if you obviously knew who she was. But looking at your confused expression, he laughed and shook his hand in the air.
“Ah, sorry, sorry! I suppose you’re not well aware of the scientific community!” He kept explaining. “She is just as known and respected as professor Lucien in our community, as smart as she is beautiful, if I dare to say. Maria came here to work in an important project with him, so this was a long-awaited visit; they will probably be busy for a while.”
You sighed and nodded slowly, understanding how important that meeting must be, so it was better for you not to interrupt them.
You thanked the man and started walking back home again with the bag in your hands still full of all the ice creams and sweets you brought, which you probably would have to eat alone back at home.
It was sort of a long walk from Lucien’s office to your apartment, and since it was a sunny and warm day you would better hurry up and get home fast. But you were too busy immerse in your thoughts to force the pace.
She was definitely the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen… And she must be pretty smart if she was compared to Lucien…
Those were innocent thoughts about how a beautiful woman walked into your boyfriend’s office, but then you remembered the way she looked at him and the way she clearly was flirting with him.
You weren’t the jealous type of girlfriend, but you surely knew how to recognize when a beautiful and smart woman was on another whole level from you.
They kind of looked good together, actually…
You stopped in your tracks suddenly overwhelmed by the thought that just crossed your mind. You knew you shouldn’t be saying -or thinking- that kind of stuff. Lucien was your boyfriend, for the love of God! You knew he loved you and he was such a gentleman and a decent person, of course he would never look at another woman.
But the unwelcomed feeling that was growing in your chest was not because you were afraid of him cheating on you, it was because you knew that Maria Irwin -whoever she was- was much better than you and that maybe she would be a better partner for Lucien.
A smart woman for a smart man; a beautiful woman for a handsome man; an elegant and sophisticated woman for an equally elegant and sophisticated man. They were the perfect match, without a doubt.
Why would Lucien be with me, when he can be with any other woman…? What does he even see in me…?
You could feel the anxiety and insecurities crawling out from the darkest places of your mind, leaving negative thoughts on their way. All the horrible feelings you had not encountered in a long time were coming back at once; you were feeling so overwhelmed by them you could not hear anything outside from your breathing, and your eyes were focused on the ground.
I’m not even that pretty, and I’m nowhere near as smart as them…
Heavy panting replaced your soft breathing as your chest tightened and you felt your eyes getting filled with tears.
He should be with someone at his level, why would he be with me…? Am I even worth it…?
Your trembling hands wouldn’t stop until you felt something dripping in your right shoe. Your eyes moved only a little to then be placed over the bag you were carrying in your hands, now soaked in colorful liquids; the ice cream was almost completely melted by now.
As if something switched in your mind out of nowhere, your tears suddenly stopped falling from your eyes, and your hands were no more shaking.
Now you were just an empty shell.
You stood there quiet for a moment, just assimilating what was happening with you. You could not feel anything else other than the heaviness trapped in your chest, but all the physical symptoms of your anxiety attack were gone, and that was better than nothing because now at least you could get home as quick as possible.
A few hours later you were now in sitting in your couch with your head thrown back, and your eyes stuck on the ceiling. You weren’t thinking any more of what happened before with Lucien and that other woman, your mind was almost completely blank, but every now and then small thoughts invaded you:
Should I just break up with him…?
He is just wasting his time with me; he could be with someone else…
Look at me pitying myself… If Lucien saw me like this, he would know how pathetic I am…
Your train of thought was interrupted by a familiar sound, letting you know you received a text from your boyfriend. Without even noticing it, your hand was already slowly reaching your phone, in an almost automated movement.
“I heard that you were here earlier, did you need something?” The shinning screen in your hands was showing a text waiting for your response, which you weren’t sure to give; you didn’t intend to ignore him but at the same time you wanted to avoid any contact with him because that would only make you feel worse.
“Yeah, I dropped by just to say hi.” You forced yourself to write.
“Sorry for not receiving you. I’ll get you dinner tonight.”
“No need to. I’m about to sleep anyway.”
After that last message you didn’t even bother to check if there was any response from him. You said that just as an excuse but you actually thought it was better to sleep and try to forget everything that happened today.
Unfortunately, you couldn’t even do that. After two hours of laying in your bed looking at the ceiling you weren’t able to fall asleep; the emptiness inside you would not let you relax at all, it started to get annoying at this point, you could feel how your temperament was getting worse with any second that passed by.
The next morning, after you only slept 2 hours, when your alarm rang your automated movements came back and you started getting ready for work without even paying any attention whatsoever. The rest of the day was just like that: a memorized daily routine effected with the least possible effort just to get through the day without getting to think too much.
You made an effort to ignore any message in your phone that was left from Lucien; more than trying to ignore him, it was a defense mechanism to try and forget those previous feelings that had put you in that state in the first place. It was not fair for Lucien but you just weren´t ready to confront him, not when all these negative things were swirling around your mind. You wanted to get better so he would never get to see that side of you.
Later that day, you were arriving home later than usual because you tried to keep yourself busy until the very end. Maybe it was an unconscious decision so you would not bump into Lucien that night, since you two usually got home at the same time.
Apparently, destiny was working against you, because just as you were walking out of the elevator you saw a tall man standing in front of your door looking at something in his phone, distracted.
Then your phone started ringing, causing the tall man to turn around and see you. You looked down to your home screen and the name Lucien was shining.
“Aren’t you picking up?” The man’s voice brought you out of your auto-pilot mode, and only then you noticed that man -Lucien- standing there with his phone dialing you in his left hand while looking at you with expectation.
“Oh, sorry…” You blinked slowly still not completely out of trance, and you passed by him walking to your door to enter your home.
“Are you okay, Y/N?” His soft voice showing hints of worry pierced your ears, causing you to slowly process what the situation was, throwing reality at your face.
Instead of answering his question, you accidentally dropped your keys when your hands started trembling. All the feelings your unconscious was trying to avoid since the previous day, piling up inside you, came out at once.
“You weren’t answering my texts since last night. I got worried and decided to…” Your ears stopped working in that moment; you body could not take anything more.
You stepped back stunned, your mind was completely blank for a second and you felt yourself trapped in a little cage inside your mind. You were there, but at the same time you weren’t in charge of your body any more.
You only felt a strong grip holding your arms from behind you, stopping you from crashing into the floor. The dizziness stopped for a second only to hear your boyfriend’s voice:
“Y/N! Can you hear me? Are you okay?”
Tears started streaming down your face, with loud cries bursting from your mouth without you even intending to. At that moment, his voice full of love and worry had already broken whatever that was containing all your feelings.
Everything was getting blurry at that point; you only heard yourself crying out loud with Lucien speaking slowly in your ear trying to comfort you. And then you noticed you were being carried in his arms into his apartment, and placing you in the couch.
By now, you regained conscience of what was happing again, but you didn’t care and kept crying and getting everything out of you; maybe that would make you feel better.
“Whenever you feel ready to talk, darling…” Lucien’s calm voice as ever, worked as a sedative and helped you quiet your loud sobs.
He hugged you tightly and held you against him with gentleness, not caring how your tears were ruining his white shirt, just showing you how much he cared and that he would be patient with you until you wanted to open up to him.
It took you almost an hour to completely calm down; an hour in which he held you close, whispered sweet nothings in your ear, and placed small kisses on your forehead.
“Lucien…” You suddenly spoke with a scratchy voice, from your tired throat.
“Mmm?” He mumbled gently.
“Why…? Why are you with me…?” You pushed yourself to ask him what was bothering you.
He stayed quiet for a few seconds, with obvious confusion about your question, but then he sighed in relief that you were talking again to him.
“Haven’t I mentioned you already why I love you so much?” He grinned.
You shook your head slowly in response.
“You are the sweetest person I know. You are what kids these days would call a young and cheerful soul.” Lucien laughed.
You blushed and hid your face in his chest, not sure how to absorb his words.
“Because I’m more of a science man, I love how you can see the magic in the world and how you always manage to make everything brighter, Y/N.” He continued talking.
“I love everything about you; the way you speak about things you like or dislike, the way you react when I bring you your favorite food, I love how you’re so curious about my work and projects even though you’re not even a science major.” Lucien’s chuckles caused you to shake into his arms surrounding you.
You bit you lip while hearing all the things he had to say about you, slowly cheering up and forgetting the heaviness in your chest.
“Y/N… I’m not sure what caused you to feel like this but… Let me remind you just how much I love you and how much you mean to me… I know I’m not able to solve all the things happening inside that little head of yours,” he bumped lightly your forehead with his index finger in a playful tone. “but I want to be beside you through all the process, from the beginning and until the very end, I want to be with you.”
You raised your face from his chest with shyness, getting your eyes up until they were on his. You could not ignore all the love his eyes were spilling, you felt almost hypnotized by looking at them.
“…So… Will you let me love you until the very end…?”
His face leaned closer to yours as he spoke, waiting for a response from you -either physical or verbal-, so he could finally give in and close the space between you two.
You nodded, not sure if your voice would be ready to talk again, but you knew it was better if you externalized your feelings with words:
“Yes… I want to love you too until the very end… Lucien. Thank you.”
The black-haired man with his face still just a few inches away from yours, smiled with relief and love as he leaned forward and, instead of placing the kiss in your lips you were expecting, he landed his lips softly on your cheek.
“I love you, Y/N.” He whispered in your ears, tightening his embrace.
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dearcupidcandy ¡ 4 years ago
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♡Yandere Ushijima x Mute Reader ♡
─⊹⊱☆⊰⊹─**Enjoy a mute reader who has caught the eyes of Ushijima and he thinks your adorable. But doesn’t realize how intimidating he can be** ─⊹⊱☆⊰⊹─
Also Stalker’s Tango is great for this ❤️
Warning: NSFW, yandere tendencies,etc
✧ He never thought you would ever even come close enough to him without shaking.
✧ Well you did. But you weren’t shaking. Since you weren’t aware of him besides the thousand of Fangirl’s wanting to date him.
✧As you tapped his shoulder. He turned around to you holding his water bottle. Tendou was goofing off and knocked it over. He had forgotten about it. But you didn’t know that. As he got up from the bench in the gym. You tapped him and handed him the water bottle.
✧Did you know what you where doing to his heart? He heard a faint d o k i ~ come from his heart as he made eye contact with you. You where forced in the volley club ball by Kiyoko. Giving Ushijima his water bottle was the most entertainment you where going to get
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✧He stalked you for a while after that. Not even realizing he was. As his fangirls screamed “k y aaaaa~.” Every time he walked through the halls. All you did was put on earbuds and walk awkwardly. Not realizing he was following you until his fan club stopped him. Though he didn’t care about them. He wanted you to be his fan girl too. What expression would you make if he made a move on you? He didn’t really care. As long as you became his.
✧Kiyoko let you listen to music while Karasuno went against Shiratorizawa. After the game. Which he obviously won because he wanted to impress you. He surprised you as he loomed over. Mouthing your name. “Y/n.” He spoke. You looked at him wide eyed. He just sat with you on the bench. Wiping the sweat from forehead. **que confused y/n** “What are you listening to?” He said as he went a little closer. You didn’t see the point in refusing. You showed him your favorite song before offering him an earbud. His eyes went into shock before his face turned red. Which it never did. He loved how kind you are to him. He’s never once seen your (e/c) turn sorrow as others talked to you. He would make sure you never showed it to anyone else again.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-A FEW MONTHS INTO YOUR RELATIONSHIP -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
✧ Ushijima used how scared you where of him to show you his ‘love’. Ushijima wasn’t only extremely tall. He was also packing. This didn’t change the fact that you never spoke. He loved hearing you silently moan.
✧ When he was in the mood. He made it clear. “Y/n....come here.” He says in a voice lower than his usual. You reluctantly come forward before he glares at you. He placed you in his lap. Gently stroking your body, and making you shiver in pleasure. As soon as he saw you shake in pleasure when his fingertips where on your back. He loomed over you in his lap. Making it clear what was rubbing up against you.
✧You where lucky if you even walked tomorrow
✧Pants and moans where heard from both your mouths. His a little more aggressive as he rubbed his tip in front of you. Looking at your exposed body on his legs . “Mine....mine forever...” He gasped between moans. He was scary. As soon as tears started to come out of your eyes. That’s when he went feral.
✧After one round. He would randomly push you against a wall and whisper sweet nothings in your ear as he rubbed against you. Trying not to be too harsh of course. But as soon as your moans turned into squeaks. That pace didn’t last long. And soon your body was filled with so much pleasure than you fell to the floor as he panted above you. His thing even harder than before.
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✧One day. You woke up with bite marks all over your neck. The pain was too much. You woke up in the middle of the night. Ushijima still fast asleep. You went downstairs for some ointment from the closet. When you turned back around. You saw Ushijima. With a more pissed off expression than usual. “What do you think your doing princess?” He knew you couldn’t talk. All you did was shake with the ointment in your hands.
✧He loomed over you. Gripping your hands tighter. Realizing why you came downstairs. “Oh.. you should have told me...” He sighed. Picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder. “Your fine for tonight.” So don’t go downstairs again.” He firmly noted. He could feel you nodding and pushed you back onto the bed. You where fully exposed after a few minutes. Panting in fear as he sat above you. He zipped down his pants and began to jerk off to you. If only you could talk. You would warn him that it wasn’t going to fit. But as you struggled to speak. It only turned him on more. A loud grunt was heard as he placed it on your entrance. His eyes of his once neutral expression left and was replaced by lust.
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✧”Your so.... cute... Y/n.” He said stroking his fingers through your (h/c) hair. He went faster and soon you where just as wet as he was. Something in you broke. You where scared of it entering you once more. You needed this man to know. Whether or not you got punished for it or not. “I-I-I-I’m sc-scare-scared Toshi.” You said through quivered lips. He froze. He stopped and looked down at you. Instead of anger. He slammed against you. Making you shake. He looked at you happily. “You spoke Y/n!” He said. Almost proud. “Don’t be worried. I love you.” You blushed at his words. His speed went faster until you where covered. “Don’t ever show this side to anyone else... understand?” You flinched. Unable to open your eyes. But you could tell he was serious. His eyes never leaving yours. He used your fear to his advantage. You thought this was love. But your fear for this man was unrelenting. “Ugggh- Y/n.... your all mine~ f o r e v e r.” He said. Eyes rolling back. His moans roared through the whole house as you tried to squirm away. His grip pulling you back in even tighter. On one of the few days you did escape mid way. He always grabbed you back and went even harder than before. Trying to get you to scream his name. “Now... now.. Y/n....” He said through soft moans. “Where not done yet... stay a little longer...” You felt dizzy as he went for your neck. Falling asleep as he collapsed next to you. “Good...” He kissed your cheek. Wanting to see your (e/c) orbs. “Goodnight...” The man wasn’t good at expressing feelings. But he was damn sure to be when you weren’t trying to escape him.
✧ The next morning. You woke up in a room. It was new. But only had a bed and a desk. Along with some video games and other stuff you liked. You tried to open the door but it was locked. “Don’t bother y/n.” I made that room for you.” You frantically tried to open the door. Unable to speak you slammed on it. “This way....you can stay with me...I’ll take good care of you.” He said on the other side. “Entertain yourself until then... and also...” He opened the door and slowly made his way towards you. Cornering you to the wall. “I broke your phone.” He said in his original neutral manner. “You only need me...” He said strictly.
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He smiled and embraced you in a hug. Which you could only quietly endure. “I’ll be back later, and you’ll be here......just for me.” He leaned back up to his original height and everything rebellious in you faded in an instant. He smiled and pat you on the head. “So don’t try to run away... okay?”
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captainseaweedbrains ¡ 3 years ago
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The Hunger Games: Ch. 5
I am finally getting around to writing up thoughts. Life am I right? So I’m not only behind, but starting a bit later on my chapter thoughts. 
Here are my rambling thoughts and emotions on chapter 5: 
"Good news, though. This is the last one. Ready?" I get a grip on the edges of the table I'm seated on and nod. The final swathe of my leg hair is uprooted in a painful jerk.// Girl, I feel you. We’ve all been there. #Noshaveforever
This has included scrubbing down my body with a gritty loam that has removed not only dirt but at least three layers of skin// It’s called exfoliating, Katniss, and I promise, it is good for your skin. If they can do one thing for you, it is this. 
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Okay. Like Katniss, I have a soft spot for her prep team. I can’t help it. They feel like they mean well and I’m a sucker for it. Even if they are prepping her for death.  💀
He gives his orange corkscrew locks a shake and applies a fresh coat of purple lipstick to his mouth.// I wonder if SC thought of the most gaudiest looks and just rolled with it. Probably. But some of these outfit choices just seem so out there that I have such a hard time picturing it. Am I alone on this? My fashion sense is that of a bygone era. So maybe that’s why. What is high fashion? Not me. That’s what.
Octavia, a plump woman whose entire body has been dyed a pale shade of pea green // Why would you want to look like a Sim? Why is that in style here? 
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"Excellent! You almost look like a human being now!" says Flavius, and they all laugh.
I force my lips up into a smile to show how grateful I am. "Thank you," I say sweetly. "We don't have much cause to look nice in District Twelve."
This wins them over completely. // Katniss!! I love you. Never change. I do love how other worldly each party sees the other. Maybe it’s a comment on colonialism in that sense shut up Terri Your English degree is showing BUT how Katniss views them as strange birds rightly so because one legit probably looks like a Sim and them viewing her as NOT HUMAN even though she definitely looks the more normal in the room and I stand by that Where was I going with this? It just feels a bit Two Worlds colliding. Okay. Moving on. 
Just how filthy was Katniss? Like she definitely bathed before coming. Twice in one day. So what is their standard here? I don’t want it because it’s probably too much effort. #lazy
It's hard to hate my prep team. They're such total idiots.// My thoughts exactly. 
I cannot stress how much I love how blunt SC makes Katniss’ thoughts. It feels so human to me and I don’t always see that in writing. It’s nice. 
Am I alone on wondering if Cinna has that eyeliner tattooed on? I don’t know why that’s always my first thought with the second being “ouch.” 
I do love how Katniss is always thrown when her pre-perceptions of the Capitol are challenged by *the few* people like Cinna. 
I saw someone point out how Katniss remembers a lot of details like the stylists and past years winners and their strategies and I’m wondering if it’s more like how I know stuff on like the Kardashians that I don’t really want to know or care about knowing. Just facts living in her head rent free. But she remembers a lot of details on the Games.
He presses a button on the side of the table. The top splits and from below rises a second tabletop that holds our lunch.// The future 1950s ads promised and Disney Channel’s Smart House made those in my generation fear. That or a super fancy automat. 
Unpopular opinion, but I absolutely hate when Katniss goes on about the food and how to make dishes. I think it’s so boring to read. Even one sentence about what everyone is eating dulls me. 
What must it be like, I wonder, to live in a world where food appears at the press of a button?//Okay, I know we kind of already have this luxury to an extent, but I too want to press a button and my food is magically there, in my home, already made. #queenlazy
My heart saddens when Katniss wonders what people do in their free time. She is a CHILD. *cries*
Okay. So I know Katniss has boasted about concealing her thoughts, but is she REALLY good at it? She gets called out a lot by practical strangers. I will cling to my headcanon that she is truly an open book and just believes she’s sneaky like that and Peeta pretends she’s succeeding at later in life. Is this canon? Maybe? Don’t @ me
SC’s commentary of sexualizing young teens and kiddos is amazing and yes, please keep coming at us like this, Suzanne. 
Also those poor, naked children. Not only were they going to their deaths, but they literally were paraded around on national television buck naked. 
I'll be naked for sure, I think...Naked and covered in black dust, I think.//An example of why I just love her narration. I crack up every time at the clear doom in her “voice”
He sees my expression and grins.//A true madman because I can only assume her face is that of horror.
I am still mad at the scaly-looking outfits the movie gave us and how they made her hair look
It crosses my mind that Cinna's calm and normal demeanor masks a complete madman.//He is a madman. We accept it and move on from here
*Peeta enters* *Cue my glee* 
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*He is my favorite and that favoritism will show*
*Listen I am here for the messages on war and our consumer culture SC is providing*
*But I will not hide why I’m really here rereading these books*
*WEEPS* SHE IS RELIEVED TO SEE PEETA 
"What do you think?" I whisper to Peeta. "About the fire?"
"I'll rip off your cape if you'll rip off mine," he says through gritted teeth.//Don’t touch me. The teamwork they already share. 
Haha I just imagine Peeta has that big smile on his face all “Haha I want to die right now”
THEY’RE LAUGHING. Precious beans. 
I guess we're both so nervous about the Games and more pressingly, petrified of being turned into human torches, we're not acting sensibly.// That or you both are talking to your crushes and are feeling giddy about it. Don’t deny it Katniss. We see you
Lmao Katniss’ enthusiasm for D1 cracks me up
Cinna over here just lighting people on fire and relieved it worked properly. This man, I swear
She calls him dazzling. Be still my heart. 
Also I still don’t understand the true purpose of Cinna presenting them as united. Maybe I’ll get a refresher later on. Is it just to make them stand out more because they’re united? I don’t understand this angle at all. So #SameKatnissSame
Lmao or maybe Peeta’s the one who is all “Idk, but *sings* I wanna hold your hand...” 
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Or not. But you bet Peeta is pumped. He’s not naked on national television and he’s holding his crush’s hand. Peak day for Peeta Bram Mellark, with all things given.
I do hope they are waving correctly. 
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I'm glad now I have Peeta to clutch for balance, he is so steady, solid as a rock.//I’m FINE. Totally FINE that this will be how she views him for the rest of the series. FINE.
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Narrator: She was not fine. 
How absolutely sad that she mentions how the Capitolites took the effort to look in the program for their names. How they waste CHILDREN’S LIVES. 
But I shall focus on her gaining confidence and Katniss Everdeen legit getting caught up in the moment where she is blowing kisses at them. The power of a great outfit, amirite? 
Someone throws me a red rose. I catch it, give it a delicate sniff, and blow a kiss back in the general direction of the giver. A hundred hands reach up to catch my kiss, as if it were a real and tangible thing.//Oh my god. So Extra
Everyone wants my kisses.//Peeta wants those kisses 
"No, don't let go of me," he says. The firelight flickers off his blue eyes. "Please.// I am crying as I think about their interaction in the same square in Mockingjay, when she tries to take the nightlock pill and he stops her. “I’ll never let go, Jack”  
SC can describe Snow however she wants, I will forever see Donald Sutherland and only that. Even when Snow is a teenager I picture Donald. The power of Donald Sutherland.
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I love that she doesn’t realize she’s still holding his hand. If Portia had enough time to spray them down, she’s been holding on for awhile. Katniss, explanation?  👀 👀 👀 👀 👀
"I'm sure they didn't notice anything but you. You should wear flames more often," he says. "They suit you." And then he gives me a smile that seems so genuinely sweet with just the right touch of shyness that unexpected warmth rushes through me. // AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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SHE FEELS WARMTH RUSH THROUGH HER
THE SHY FLIRTING
PEETA, YOU SHY SLY BEAN OF A FOX
The more likable he is, the more deadly he is.//Yeah, for catching a dangerous thing called FEELINGS. 
Katniss, how does *kissing* him help matters here? You clearly caught wind he was flirting and your first thought was *le kiss* ???????
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These two, I swear
And Katniss is just so smol having to stand on her *tiptoes* to kiss his cheek. #teamsmol
Onward to the next chapter! 
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sigillaria-svt ¡ 4 years ago
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Elevator Meetings (Part Two) - Seokmin
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Pairing: Musical Actor!Lee Seokmin/DK x Academic!Reader
Word Count: 3,158
Warning: None
Genres: fluff, slice of life, neighbors, innocently heart-struck Seokmin, appearances of other Seventeen Members, Wingman!Mingyu
Part One (Reader POV): [Part One]
Part Three (Reader POV): [Part Three]
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Synopsis: After you watched his stage performance for the first time, Lee Seokmin has started to become closer to you as a neighbor. Ever since then, he has enjoyed your company. How will the rest of his members react when they realize that perhaps Seokmin may be seeing you more than just an ordinary neighbor living a few floors down?
SEOKMIN
Seokmin puts his phone down on the table as the rest of his friends order food. Everyone was there, except for Lee Jihoon who was currently working on making a new song, and Wen Junhui who had gone to China for some business schedules.
Jeonghan looks over Seokmin’s shoulder, ready to tease him as he always does. “Who are you texting with such a wide smile on your face?”
“No one, just a neighbor.” He replies, quickly picking up his chopsticks to divert Jeonghan’s attention to the food.
“When I text my neighbors, I don’t smile like that.” He says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Well, I barely even text my neighbors, to begin with. Come on, there’s really no need to be shy about it. We’re way past the age to be shy over our feelings.”
“Ah, is this the reason why you kept looking at us back at the theatre while you were on stage?” Mingyu says as he turns over a piece of meat on the grill.
“No, no, that’s not it,” Seokmin says defensively. “I swear, she’s just a neighbor. I helped her out when she was having a problem with moving her stuff and simply asked her to come to the play, that’s all.”
Yoon Jeonghan shakes his head, but smiles. He knows that this wasn’t the first time Seokmin had small unconscious crushes on people. In fact, it happens quite often, but it rarely turns into anything serious with all the hectic schedules that Seokmin has as a musical actor. Even when the other guys try to ask him about it, he always innocently says that they were nothing more than just a friend, even when everyone else sees otherwise.
“Alright, alright, whatever helps you sleep at night.” Says Boo Seungkwan, who sits right across Seokmin. They immediately move on to another topic and the rest of the story remains unmentioned for the rest of the night.
Seokmin, on the other hand, can’t help but think about it.
When they get back home to their apartment, he stares at his phone for several minutes. He looks at your contact page over and over, enjoying the sound of your name as it plays over and over in his head.
“Do I really?” He says to himself as he rolls over to his side. He tries to think it over once again. “It’s too early, right?”
“Who are you talking to?” Minghao asks, who happens to be sitting right next to him on the other couch.
Seokmin rolls over to face his friend. “Minghao, do I really?”
“Do you really what?”
“Do I really, you know?” Seokmin put his hands up, trying to express his thoughts in words. Minghao looks up at him, raising his eyebrows. “You get what I mean, right?”
“No, I absolutely don’t.”
Seokmin gets up, deciding that it would be better to sleep this off instead. He thought that perhaps he was just a bit tired; maybe his racing thoughts would be over the moment he wakes up the next morning.
And yet, when the sun rose, the thought had not left him. That’s when he started to go out at the same time of 7 AM each day, even when there wasn’t any work to do at that time to perhaps get the chance to somehow run into you again along the apartment elevators. Each day, Seokmin would return to his apartment, visibly discouraged in the eyes of his members, but not to himself. Around the next week, he tried to look for your social media accounts but found only a single account filled with pictures of plants. He wasn’t so sure if it was you, or if it was just someone who shared the same name.
Seokmin is in the living room, unconsciously shaking his leg as he waits for you to accept his friend request. Mingyu steps out of the bathroom with a towel over his wet hair. Grabbing a drink from the fridge, he leans over Seokmin.
“What are you doing this time?” He asks, used to seeing the sight of a flustered Seokmin for the past week.
“Shh, this is important,” Seokmin says, eyes still glued to the screen.
“You know that she may not be on her phone right now, right?” Mingyu says, taking a sip of his soda. “It’s not like she’s going to respond faster if you stare at your phone like that.”
“Huh? It’s not like I’m waiting for her to respond.”
“Then what are you doing?”
Seokmin puts his phone aside and drops his hands to the pillows beside him. “You’re right, what am I doing?”
Mingyu decides to take a seat next to his friend. The last time he was like this was two years ago, when he started to have a crush on one of the waitresses at a restaurant that they frequently went to. Back then, they went to the same restaurant for 10 days in a row before Seokmin realized that he was attracted to her. Unfortunately, she changed jobs and they have never met again ever since.
It wasn’t that Seokmin didn’t feel anything--it was just that he was a bit slow at realizing his feelings himself.
“What’s her name? What’s gotten you so interested in her?” Mingyu asks, putting one arm over the back of the couch.
“Well it’s not that I’m really interested, I mean, I met her just a week ago, but her name is Y/N. It has a nice ring to it right?” He says with an innocent smile. “Oh, she’s a teacher! Maybe teaches about plants? All her photos are about plants so maybe she’s into that.”
Mingyu simply nods with pursed lips as he takes another sip.
“And well, she lives on the 8th floor below us... and well, she was moving her things on her own.” Seokmin tried to check his phone again, but you hadn’t accepted his request yet. “I mean, who tries to move ten boxes by themselves up to the eighth floor? We had to move it one by one because we didn’t have those wheely things with us.”
Seokmin narrates the entire story of what happened on that day to Mingyu, who responds with the occasional nod or “Uhuh”. Although it was a series of short encounters, Seokmin manages to relay it as if it were more exciting than it actually was.
“So, what do you think?” Seokmin asks once he was finally able to end the entire narrative.
Mingyu shakes his head as he drinks the last drop of his soda. “I think you’re thinking too much and moving too less.” Mingyu lightly taps the empty can on Seokmin’s leg. “Don’t you remember the waitress two years ago? The event host from three years ago? Or even the class president back when we were in high school? What do they all have in common?”
“They were all... girls?” Seokmin tilts his head, trying to understand what Mingyu was trying to get to.
“You all fell for them at first sight but never made a move for weeks until you either forgot that you had a crush on them, or you never came across them ever again.” Mingyu sighs in frustration. “We’ve been through this, come on, give me your phone.”
“For what?” He says while handing over his phone.
“Ask her to have a meal with you. Don’t neighbors eat together every once in a while?” Mingyu replies, quickly heading over to the texting app. He types in two sentences before passing it over to Seokmin.
“Hey, y/n!!! How are you? Do you want to eat out sometime? It’s on me, think of it as a housewarming gift~ ^^ ” Seokmin reads out loud. “No, no, I definitely can’t send something like this. What if she thinks I’m feeling too close to her?”
“We’ll worry about it once we get there.” Mingyu leans over and hits send, all to Seokmin’s surprise. He hurriedly tries to keep the message from sending, but it’s too late.
“Mingyu!” Seokmin whines as he shakes his friend back and forth. He immediately stops when he hears the familiar ding of his phone at the arrival of a new message. “I don’t want to open it! I don’t want to open it!”
“We’ve taken a step forward, we can’t go back right now.” Mingyu grabs the phone and opens up the message himself. “See? She’s totally fine with it.”
Mingyu holds the phone right in front of Seokmin’s face, his eyes quickly going over your reply.
“Sure, when and where?”
▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫ 
Seokmin and Mingyu sit at a table in one of the Japanese restaurants just a few minutes away from SC University where you work at. Seokmin managed to pull Mingyu along with him despite his argument that Seokmin should go alone. After a compromise to pay for his meal in exchange for his company, Mingyu reluctantly sits next to Seokmin.
“You’ll pay for whatever I order tonight, right?” He asks, eyes glossing over the wide menu. “Just asking to make sure.”
“Yes, I will. For sure. Just don’t leave me alone, okay?” Seokmin replies, leaning in and speaking in a small voice. “I’ll even order that cooking set you’ve always wanted.”
Mingyu happily nods, satisfied at the additional offers. Moments later, you arrive at the venue, still bringing along your bag containing your laptop and another set of papers to look through.
“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late. We had a presentation that went on for a little longer than I had expected.” Y/N says. She takes a seat across the two men, raising her eyebrows as her eyes land on Mingyu.
“Hey, weren’t you at the theatre last week?” Mingyu says, earning a flustered look from Y/N.
She gives him a small wave. “Yes, hello. It’s nice to meet you, again. My name is Y/N, I live a few floors down Seokmin’s apartment.”
“Yeah, I know,” Mingyu says straightforwardly. Seokmin hits his knee slightly, making Mingyu jump a bit. “I wanted to tag along, so Seokmin told me about it. My name is Kim Mingyu, call me Mingyu.”
With an unreadable expression, she nods. “Ah, I see. By the way, Seokmin, are you sure that you’re fine with paying for me? I mean... this isn’t exactly the cheapest place in town, you know.”
Seokmin gives a wide smile. “No, no, it’s alright.” Seokmin hands Y/N a menu from the side of the table. “Really, order anything you like. We eat here a lot, their food is really good.”
Despite Seokmin’s slight awkwardness, Mingyu manages to move the conversation enough to create some small talk about work and life at the apartment. Apparently, Y/N’s roommates had just moved in, and work had gotten busier now that students are starting to pass their outputs for their final requirements. By the time the food arrives, the conversation had become natural enough for it to happen between Seokmin and Y/N without Mingyu’s need to become an emcee.
Sensing the situation, Mingyu decides to hurriedly finish his food and make a random excuse of needing to quickly head over to work. Out of their sight, Mingyu texts Minghao to call him quickly. With the acting skills acquired from years of being Seokmin’s practice partner at home, Mingyu picks up Minghao’s call.
“Hey, Mr. Jeon. What is it?” He says. Seokmin looks over to Mingyu, but his plan to ditch them hasn’t become apparent to him yet. “I’m eating right now, but I guess I could help out a bit. What’s wrong? What? Really? Right now?”
Although he says this, Minghao is completely unaware of the other side of the call. 
“Alright, I’ll be there in a bit,” Mingyu says before quickly turning off the screen of his phone. He gives Seokmin an apologetic look. “Hey, I’m sorry but I really have to go. Apparently, something is going on at work and I need to go there in a rush.”
Y/N gives a nod of understanding, while Seokmin had just understood what Mingyu was trying to do.
“Are you going to be alright? You just finished your meal.” She asks.
“It’ll be fine, my workplace is nearby.” He gets up and picks up the coat that he had laid on the back of his chair. “I’ll see you later at the apartment, Seokmin. So sorry I had to go early this time.”
Seokmin sits there with his mouth open, looking at Mingyu as he quickly moves out of the restaurant. In a few moments, Seokmin received a message from that same friend.
“Fighting :*”
“I hope they’re okay. It seemed like it was really urgent.” Y/N says, picking up a piece of sushi with her chopsticks and dipping it in soy sauce.
Seokmin gives a nervous laugh. “Yeah, I guess that’s just the kind of work that he does.” Now that Mingyu is gone, Seokmin’s thoughts are a mess. “By the way, I sent you a friend request.”
“Oh I’m sorry, did you? I wasn’t really able to check, today was a pretty hectic day. I’ll make sure to check it when I get home.” Y/N gives him a small smile. “Is Mingyu one of your roommates?”
“Yeah, I live with four other people. Well, all in all, we’re a group of thirteen friends that just live in separate apartments in one building.” Seokmin replies, trying his best to brave through the situation. “I know it’s difficult to imagine, but all thirteen of us lived in one apartment at one point.”
For the rest of the night, Seokmin and Y/N talk about anything that could possibly pop into their heads. At first, it was a mumble of random topics with the occasional awkward silence, which eventually turned into an exchange of laughter as Seokmin acts out his best scenes so far. Near the end of the night, it becomes a sentimental talk about work and living away from family members.
“I get what you mean. Throughout my career, I had to live away from my family too.” Seokmin says, taking a sip of water as he swallows his final bite. “Although my family is from the city, I had to move in with the other guys when I was in high school to prepare for my acting career.”
“That’s tough. I can’t imagine living away from my family at that age. I mean, up until now I still call my brother from time to time to ask for help in fixing things around the house.” Y/N purses her lips. “My roommates are always so busy, their workloads are literally two times heavier than mine, so I rarely get the time to go out with friends.”
Y/N looks up at Seokmin with the most genuine look.
“Thanks, for asking me to come out with you today. It helps a lot.” She says, and all of the sudden, Seokmin is completely soft.
“Woah, the mood just went... Well... I just, If it helps you, then I’m happy to help out any time.” Seokmin replies, taken aback for a second time by Y/N’s sincerity. Seokmin checks his watch, seeing that it’s already halfway past 10 PM. “We should get home. The restaurant will close in a bit, anyway.”
She nods in return and the both of you head out, taking the next bus toward your apartment building. For the duration of the ride, both of you stay silent as you sit next to each other. Both of you enter the elevator, tapping both your cards to access the higher floors. When the elevator stops on the 7th floor, Y/N gives Seokmin her final greetings for the night.
“Good night, Seokmin. See you again next time.” She says before finally turning to her apartment door at the end of the hallway.
Meanwhile, Seokmin arrives at his own apartment with an eager Mingyu waiting in the living room, managing to pull with him a tired Minghao. Seokmin stares at him, not sure whether to thank him or to get angry at him.
“So, how was it?” Mingyu asks with a glimmer in his eyes.
“You’re really crazy, Kim Mingyu,” Seokmin replies flatly. “But it was good.”
The two stare at each other before the two of them burst out in jumps of excitement. “I did it, I did it! I can’t believe I did it! Wah, I’ve been holding this in for hours.” Seokmin says, running over to hold Mingyu by the shoulders.
“See? You can do it if you actually try! I’m so proud of you, you’re finally managing to get through it.” Mingyu says, ruffling Seokmin’s hair.
“Is this the reason why you asked me to call you earlier?” Minghao asks with a judging expression on his face. “I swear--”
“Yeah, but it all went well, so it’s good, right?” Mingyu cuts him off in excitement.
“Hey, tone it down!” Boo Seungkwan shouts from his room. “Geez!”
The two men immediately zip, but not without a fit of small laughs and giggles. “Look at you, Lee Seokmin, finally getting over the unconscious crush curse,” Mingyu says quietly, albeit with the exact same excitement.
“Oh man, what am I going to do? My heart won’t stop beating fast.” Seokmin says, trying to calm himself down. “Minghao, what do I do?”
Minghao shakes his head. “So long as you’re happy, do whatever you want. I’m going to head off to bed first, I’ve got a schedule early tomorrow.”
With that, Minghao returns to his room, shortly followed by Seokmin and Mingyu after Seokmin promised to tell them about the other details the next day.
While on his bed, Seokmin receives a notification telling him that Y/N had accepted his friend request. It was then that he found out that although Y/N didn’t post much on her wall, she was rather active on her My Day’s. With a tap, many things about her day pop out, including her meal with Seokmin and Mingyu. The picture was of the two guys eating, with a small “thank you” caption at the bottom.
Seokmin takes a quick screenshot and closes his phone for the night. It was more than enough to lighten his mood, and surely a great memory for him. It was his first time ever making a move after years of never acting upon his feelings for someone.
Some people might see it as a quick rush of emotion, but to him, it was a wave of something new that he wanted to cherish. There was something different with her sincerity--although he heard people compliment him many times throughout his life, it was just then that it felt really, really real to him. At first, Seokmin merely thought of her as admirable in trying to move all her things by herself, but with her sincere words after the stage play, he was hooked. 
For that, he was greatly thankful.
That night, Seokmin slept well for the first time in a long time.
▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫▫ Part Three (Final) : [Part Three]
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Sakurai Clan Drama Track 1 - So It Goes.
Pt. 4
-- Yanaka Cemetery, Ueno Division --
[The time was approximately 6:20 P.M., meaning the sun was setting just below the city line, and night was approaching, though light was still present in the sky. The city's cemetery, Yanaka Cemetery, was peaceful during this time of day, or rather, the moment was very tranquil. The wind was blowing, scattering the cherry blossom petals along the pathway and onto some of the graves.]
[Walking through the cemetery, the figures of Kisouna and Yomi Yuzairu, who was holding her mother's hand, stopped at a not-so-small gravesite which read: 'Here lies Saito Yuzairu: A loving husband and a good father. May he R.I.P.']
[Kneeling downward, the attorney placed a small bouquet of red and white roses atop the gravesite before standing back up, still holding onto her daughter.]
Kisouna: *smiling sadly* Hello, my husband. It’s good to speak with you again. *Pats her daughter’s head* I brought our daughter with me today.
Yomi: *Waves at the gravesite* Hi daddy.
Kisouna: *Smiles at her daughter before looking back at the grave* I'm sorry we haven't come to see you in a long while. A lot of things have happened since we last spoke.
Yomi: *Excited* Yeah! Mommy's going to enter a song tournament!
Kisouna: *Laughs at her daughter* Yes, like our daughter said, I'm entering a tournament alongside two others. The three of us are...
[As the widow continued speaking to the grave (with her daughter interceding at some points), the figures of Aranai Norikoru and Shisuta Heisha were a ways away from their teammate, silently watching her. The nun had a smile on her face as she looked at her friend and daughter, whilst the former Bōsōzoku was leaning against a tree with her hands behind her head, a bored look on her face.]
Shisuta: *Notices Aranai's facial features* Something bothering you, Aranai?
Aranai: *Shrugs her shoulders, still bored* Not really. Just never been a big fan of cemeteries.
Shisuta: Ah. Do they frighten you?
Aranai: *Looks at her friend, an incredulous look on her face* What? No!
Shisuta: Ah, my apologies. Then how exactly do they bother you?
Aranai: *Shrugs her shoulders again, frowning* I don't know. I just don't really see the point in them, is all.
Shisuta: *Frowns a bit* What do you mean? Cemeteries are places to honor the dead and comfort their souls. It's a place for people who have embarked upon the 'eternal sleep'.
Aranai: *Looks at Shisuta, frowning* Okay, one: please don't say those kind of things around me. And two: I obviously know that. I just don't see the point in remembering something that's no longer here.
Shisuta: *Looks at Aranai, shocked* Aranai-chan, I cannot believe what I am hearing. You surely cannot mean that.
Aranai: *Shrugs, not bothered by what she said as she looks out in the distance* I just don't see the need or the point in dredging up things that already happened. The past is the past. People should let it stay there.
Aranai: *Looks back at Shisuta* What good does bringing up old stuff or honoring the dead do?
[Listening to her leader talk, the Catholic nun's frown deepened. Though she knew Aranai was only speaking that way because of her age and naivety, Shisuta still did not like hearing her friend speak that way.]
Shisuta: You say that honoring the dead does no good?
Aranai: *Shrugs again* Pretty much. *Looks off in the distance and spots something* Prime example...
[Shisuta looked as Aranai pointed to a young couple who were standing by a gravesite, a ways away from where Kisouna and Yomi were. The woman had both hands over her eyes as she was sobbing, whilst the man had a comforting hand on her shoulder.]
Aranai: Coming here to this place is obviously causing that woman a lot of grief. So why come?
Aranai: *Puts her hand back down and leans back against the tree* Places like these only exist to make people miserable.
Shisuta: *Shakes her head 'no'* I have to disagree. *Looks back at the mourning woman* You say that this place serves to make people miserable or has no meaning. I don't believe so.
Shisuta: I think... the meaning helps those who were left behind come to terms with reality.
Aranai: *Cocks an eye at Shisuta* Reality?
Shisuta: *Nods* Yes. *Looks back at the woman* This place helps to let people know that though their loved ones are no longer here physically, they are still with them in mind and spirit.
Shisuta: *Looks around the cemetery* This place is filled with memories. Some good, and some sad. Being here helps one to remember all those moments they had. They are a... treasure.
Aranai: *Looks around the cemetery* But this is just a place. Memories are something you have with you all the time, right?
Shisuta: *Smiles* We humans have a tendency to give meaning to places and things.
Aranai: *Looks off sideways* Not me.
Shisuta: Oh? *Still smiling* Then what about your motorbike that you seem to care so much for?
Aranai: *Looks at Shisuta, surprised before frowning* That's different!
Shisuta: *Continues smiling* Oh? And in what way?
[As she opened her mouth to speak, the former Bōsōzoku slowly closed it. Why did she keep her Yamaha around? Was it because it was just her preferred way of transportation? No, that wasn't it. If she had said that, she'd just be lying to Shisuta and herself. No, the real reason she liked, no, loved that bike was because it reminded her of the days when she and her gang were together.]
[Realizing the nun's point, the group leader groaned and just looked away, refusing to look at the nun, who was no doubt smiling as she had given Aranai something to ponder about. After several minutes, the duo looked as Kisouna and her daughter walked up to them.]
Kisouna: Sorry for the wait.
Shisuta: *Still smiling* It's no trouble. *Looks down at Yomi* And how was your talk with your daddy, Yomi-chan?
Yomi: *Beams* Good! I told Daddy all about how school is!
Shisuta: That's truly outstanding, Yomi-chan. I'm sure he's very happy to hear that.
[Aranai, who chose not to include herself in the conversation, still had her back to the tree, a bored look on her face. However, a frown soon replaced it as she suddenly started looking around, alert.]
Shisuta: *Notices her teammate's behavior* Something wrong, Aranai-chan?
Aranai: *Doesn't answer right away* ...Anyone else notice how quiet this place got all of a sudden?
[The attorney prepared to open her mouth, stating that cemeteries were supposed to be quiet. However, after carefully listening to her surroundings, she noticed that her team leader was correct: it was far too quiet.]
[A 'caw caw' was heard as a bird on a nearby tombstone flew away towards the entrance, making the four females turn their attention to it. Their eyes grew wide as suddenly surrounding them were a group of miscreants, serious looks on each of their faces. They all looked to out-of-sorts to be called a gang, but the looks on their faces made them seem too focused to be called thugs, either.]
[What drew the women's attention was what each man had in one of their hands: a microphone. It was highly unlikely that Chuohku would send a bunch of thugs a pair of Hypnosis Microphones, so there was only one explanation: they were all illegal mics.]
Aranai: *Glares at the gang* Who the hell are you losers?
[If the gang heard the team leader's question, they chose not to respond.]
Kisouna: *Also glaring at the gang* She asked you all a question. Identify yourselves at once.
Yomi: *Hiding behind her mother* M-m-mommy?
[Shushing her daughter, the attorney and the rest of SC looked as the gang parted, making way for an elderly gentleman wearing a black tuxedo with a green vest and carrying a brown and gold walking cane, though he was not using it.]
???: Would you three happen to be the Ueno Division's team, Sakurai Clan?
Aranai: *Glaring at the old man* Who the hell wants to know, Gramps?
Shisuta: *Frowns at Aranai, before looking at the old man* Forgive me, but you seem to have us at a disadvantage. May we know who you are?
???: Ah, of course. Please forgive me. *The old man bows placing his right hand over his chest* I am Akiharu Hino, head retainer of the Chōten family.
Kisouna: Chōten? *Kisouna frowns, as her brain tries to remember exactly where she's heard that name from*
Shisuta: I see. And is there something we can do for you, Hino-san?
Hino: My master, Tomi Chōten, wishes to speak with you all. Thus, he has invited you all to join him for dinner at his residence in Aoyama.
Aranai: *Scoffs* Ha! Invited? Give me a break!
Aranai: If this is just an invitation... *Aranai waves her at the thugs still staring at the Ueno team, poised and ready to attack* ...Then what the heck is up with your Goon Squad here?
Kisouna: *Nods* I have to agree with my friend. Judging from the appearance of these men, this doesn't seem to be an invitation we can refuse, is it?
Hino: *Sighs* Sadly, my lady, you are correct. My master was rather... insistent that I have you three there, and he wouldn't take anything less than a 'yes', I'm afraid.
[Both Aranai and Kisouna continued to frown at the gang and the old man, but subtly exchanged a nod with one another as their hands were in their respective pockets, feeling for their Hypnosis Microphones.]
Kisouna: *Has her hand wrapped around her mic in her pocket* Well, I am sorry to disappoint you, good sir. But I am afraid we must refuse your master's gracious invite. Perhaps another time, if possible.
Hino: *Sighs* As I stated, my lady, I am afraid I cannot refuse my master's orders, no matter what they may be.
Aranai: *Chuckles, taking out her mic* You really wanna do this, Gramps? Fine with me!
[As Aranai was about to make the first move, she looked as Shisuta placed an arm in front of her, halting her movement.]
Kisouna: *Surprised* Shisuta?
Aranai: *Shocked and upset* What the heck are you doing?
Shisuta: *Speaking out loud to everyone* I feel it would be very rude and disrespectful to disturb the slumber of those resting here.
Aranai: *Upset* Seriously, Shisuta?! Now is not the time for religious rules and stuff.
Kisouna: I have to agree, Shisuta. This isn't my ideal place for a battle either, but we have no choice.
Shisuta: *Frowns at her teammates* Do you two really want to battle in a cemetery? In front of a child?
[Pointing to Yomi, Kisouna and Aranai looked as the four-year-old was still clinging to her mother's skirt, scared.]
Shisuta: *Looks at Hino* We will accept your invitation, on the terms that you and your... friends agree not to do any of us any harm.
Hino: *Bows* Of course not. Thank you very much, milady.
20 minutes later...
-- Chōten Residence, Aoyama Division --
[After a tense, but uneventful ride in a long, black limousine, the group of SC finally arrived at their destination: a large, inconspicuous mansion that easily took up several acres of land. For the most part, the three women were impressed, though considering their current circumstance, they knew to be on their guard.]
Kisouna: *Whispers to Aranai as they step out of the car* Are you sure Yomi will be alright?
Aranai: *Whispers back* Yomi will be fine. Kaba promised to text me if anything happened... not that anything should happen.
[Before leaving, Kisouna requested that she leave her daughter behind with Aranai's friends. Though Yomi begged to come with her, Kisouna's decision was final, though she knew how upset her daughter would be.]
Kisouna: I'll have to buy her some cake to make it up to her when this is over.
[Sensing her friend's distress, Shisuta placed a comforting hand on Kisouna's shoulder, smiling at her, which prompted the attorney to smile back. Their attention was drawn to Hino, who walked in front of them.]
Hino: *Looking at the Ueno team* I thank you all again for agreeing to my master's request. I apologize greatly for the methods I used to obtain your cooperation.
Hino: *Bows to SC* I humbly beg your forgiveness.
[Sensing the sincerity in the old man's voice, Shisuta stepped forward.]
Shisuta: It is fine. Though our introduction could have been better, we thank you for doing no harm to us or my friend's daughter.
Shisuta: *Bows back* You are forgiven, Hino-san.
Aranai: Tch, speak for yourself...
Hino: *Bows again* Thank you kindly, my lady. *Raises his head* If you'll follow me, I'll introduce you to my master.
[Leading the way, the Ueno Division team followed the old butler as he walked up the stairs to the entranceway, through the front door.]
Aranai: *Rubbing her left arm* This place makes my shoulder blades itch.
Kisouna: *Follows behind Aranai* I'm in agreement. *Looks around* It feels as if I'm being scrutinized.
Shisuta: That is simply because we are all out of our comfort zones. *Looks at her teammates, smiling* Let us be done with our business here and return to Ueno quickly, shall we?
Aranai: Peh, you'll get no argument here from me.
Kisouna: Indeed.
[Still following behind the old butler, the trio was led upstairs to the second story to an outdoor patio, where a long dining table with a graceful white tablecloth was situated. The table was elegantly set to serve up to eight people. Standing in front of the table, looking out over the district of Aoyama, were three men communicating with one another.]
Hino: *Bowing with his hand over his chest* My lord, I've returned. *Turns back to the women*
Hino: Ladies Aranai, Shisuta, Kisouna, may I introduce to you, *Points to the heaviest man of the trio with muscles on him* ...Master Karada Kessaku...
Karada: *Turns to the women, putting his right hand up in the air* What's up?!
Hino: *Points to the tallest of three men* ...Master Luis Kōkyū...
Luis: *Turns to the women, nodding his head at them, a neutral expression on his face* A pleasure.
Hino: ...And lastly, my master and leader, Master Tomi Chōten.
[The last one in the group, the man in the middle, slowly turned around, revealing his features to the group, who were surprised to see that he was a young man, still in his early-to-mid 20s.]
Tomi: *A smirk appears on his face as he bows before SC* A pleasure to meet you, Sakurai Clan. *Raises back up* I thank you dearly for accepting my invitation.
Aranai: *Scowls and scoffs* 'Invitation?' Yeah right. Is that what you call sending your thugs to ambush us into getting to meet with you?
Shisuta: Aranai!
Tomi: *Places his left hand over his body, bowing* My apologies. I instructed Hino-san to use any means necessary to get you to come. I apologize if I've offended or hurt you in any way.
[Aranai and Kisouna felt their faces frown, as their disliking for this man was slowly rising. Though his apology sounded sincere, they could tell that it had a somewhat mocking tone to it.]
Tomi: *Notes the ladies' frowns, but continues smirking* Again, I sincerely apologize. If it will make you feel better, I can have the Aoyama Police Department send some units down to apprehend the men who ambushed you.
Kisouna: *Still frowning* Thank you, but there is no need. The crime happened in our city of Ueno. Therefore, we will take care of it ourselves.
Shisuta: *Looks worriedly at Kisouna* Kisouna-san...
Tomi: *Looks surprised, but shrugs it off* If that is what you desire, then I shall respect your wishes.
Aranai: Tch, don't make it seem like you're doing us a favor, pal.
Tomi: Well then... *Waves his hand over the table* ...Shall we have dinner?
Five minutes later...
[Within a few minutes, everyone present was seated at the table with a plate of food in front of them. Except for Shisuta, who had a simple plate of salad, everyone was served a cooked steak with melting butter on top and lettuce beneath it, along with a side of peas and fries. To complete it, everyone also had a glass of red wine beside them.]
[While the men of the table were talking and eating with no complaint, the three women felt a bit awkward, despite the free meal. Though the dinner didn't seem to have any ulterior motives, they could not help but feel that there was more to this than Tomi was letting on. Truthfully, the young socialite could tell the women were feeling uncomfortable, and he was enjoying every second of it.]
Tomi: *Notes the girls' expression* Is something wrong? Is the meal not to your liking?
Shisuta: *Looks up from her salad, surprised* N-no! No, we are thankful for the meal you've prepared, Tomi-san. Really, we are. *Bows her head in 'thanks'*
Shisuta: It is just... we are simply wondering... well, what exactly the purpose of all of this is...?
Kisouna: I have to agree. *Puts down her dinner fork* You can't have called the three of us out here simply for a dinner.
[Tomi felt himself smirking, inwardly. He heard about the intellect and intuition of the Ueno team. And it seems he was not mistaken.]
Tomi: *Takes a sip of his wine before placing it down* You are correct. There is a reason I called you here.
Tomi: As you are no doubt aware, the Division Rap Battle tournament will be commencing in just a week or so. *Places his hands in front of him* And as the bracket shows, the first match will be between the Ueno team, Sakurai Clan, and the Aoyama team, the Jet Set Trio.
Karada: That's us, yo! *Points to himself and his friends*
Luis: Yes, I think they realized that already, Karada.
Kisouna: Of course! That's why the name 'Chōten' sounded so familiar! He's the leader of the Aoyama team, Jet Set Trio! How could I forget something so important?
[As the prosecuting attorney was mentally chastising herself, she snapped out of her reverie when she heard her leader speak.]
Aranai: So... what? Is this meal supposed to be some way to wish us 'good luck' or something?
Tomi: Not exactly. *Chuckles softly to himself* I called you here because I think that we all can agree that this D.R.B. is just Chuhoku's way of trying to assert their dominance over all the divisions.
Kisouna: *Nods in agreement* True. This is actually we... *Points to herself and her teammates* ...had discussed before.
Tomi: *Nods back* Yes. And knowing them and their methods, they probably coerced you into joining like they did us, correct?
Aranai: *Looks away, upset* Tch, that's an understatement...
Tomi: Therefore, I think it behooves all of us that the least number of teams available would be for the best.
[The women of Sakurai Clan felt themselves frown in confusion, as they knew not what the young socialite was alluding to.]
Kisouna: *Still frowning* Forgive me, Tomi-san, but what exactly are you saying?
[Looking to one of his servants who was standing diligently by the entranceway, the young socialite nodded to him, which prompted the servant to walk over to the women. Taking something out of his pocket, the females looked as a red envelope was placed in front of each of them. Looking at each other, the women picked up their respective envelopes and could feel that they were filled with something. As a prosecuting attorney and a former Bōsōzoku, both Kisouna and Aranai already had a pretty good idea of what was inside.]
[Opening them up, their suspicions were confirmed as inside each of them was a large bundle of money, close to ÂĽ100,000,000.]
Tomi: *Places his hands in front of him* I'll be frank with you: my associates and I would like you to forfeit our match in the D.R.B. The amount placed in each of your envelopes is equivalent to how much you'd have received if you won the competition.
[As they heard Tomi speak, the women's eyes grew large and they knew not whether it was because of his words or the money they had in their hands. It was now plain to all what exactly this was: a bribe. And as such, Aranai could not stop herself from laughing, drawing attention to everyone present.]
Aranai: *Still chuckling* Really? So, that's what this is all about? Your attempt at getting an easy win? You don't have the balls to face us, so your option is to instead try to get us to quit so you can get off scot-free?
Karada: Woah, hold on there! *Stands up* You're making it sound like we're cowards or something!
Aranai: *Looks at Karada* Yeah, that's exactly what I'm making it sound like!
Kisouna: I have to agree. *Stands up* This attempt at bribery is in not only in poor taste, but it is also very cowardly. If you actually believed that we'd accept your proposal, then I'm sorry to say, you're gravely mistaken.
Shisuta: *Places her arms in front of Aranai and Kisouna* What my friends are trying to say is, though we are grateful for your offer, we sadly cannot accept it.
Tomi: Oh, and may I know the reason why?
Shisuta: *Sighs* Tomi-san, please try to look at this from our perspective. If you were in our place and someone had tried to bribe you, would you accept?
Tomi: *Scoffs* Of course not.
Shisuta: *Smiles* Then, surely you can see...
Tomi: *Interrupts* However... *Stands up* ...I am not you.
Shisuta: *Shocked* ...I am... sorry?
Tomi: As I stated, I am not you. I am of high class, one born above the likes of you peasants. If anything, you all should be honored to be in my presence. And now that I graciously offer you a proposal, you choose to throw in back in my face.
Tomi: *Scowls at the women* That, I cannot forgive.
[At this, all six people felt themselves scowling at one another, even Luis, who was silently eating his meal, stood along Karada and Tomi, frowning at his opponents. Shisuta, the peaceful one of the SC, also could not hold back the frown on her face. The six people stood there for over a minute staring at each other in distaste before Kisouna spoke.]
Kisouna: I feel our time here is now over. Thank you all for the meal and your time. *Turns to leave*
Shisuta: *Bows her head at JST, still frowning* May the Lord continue to bless and keep you. *Follows behind Kisouna*
[Aranai simply scoffed as she turned to follow her friends out of the house.]
Tomi: *Smirks* Yes, run back to that cesspool that you call Ueno City.
[At that, Aranai slowly stopped and turned around, glaring daggers at the JST leader. Slowly walking back to the table, she stood there silently before looking down at the red envelope that she and the others had left behind. Picking it up, she felt that the money was still inside. Holding it up, she did something that shocked and surprised everyone present. Turning it sideways, the former Bōsōzoku ripped up the envelope in half with the money still inside and proceeded to tear it up before throwing it in the air. Noting the shocked look on the young socialite's face, she smirked and again walked out, throwing JST "the bird" as she left.]
A week and a half later...
-- Division Rap Battle Coliseum, Chuohku Ward --
[The Day of the Division Rap Battle Tournament had finally arrived, as the coliseum was packed to the brim with people from all throughout Japan, ready and waiting for the show to get underway. The bracket for the tournament was still unknown, but the divisions representing would be: Ueno, Aoyama, Harajuku, Saitama, Shinagawa, Kyoto, and much more.]
[Speaking of the Ueno team, the Sakurai Clan patiently waited for their time to come in one of the rooms in the coliseum. Aranai sat in one of the lounge chairs in the room, cleaning her Hyp Mic with a white cloth. Shisuta was on the ground, sitting on her legs with her hands clasped together and her eyes closed, silently praying. And lastly, Kisouna, who was also sitting in one of the lounge chairs was silently staring at the wedding ring her husband had given her on their wedding day. She wasn't as devout as Shisuta, but she silently prayed he and her daughter, who was in the stands with Aranai's friends, would give her the strength she needed to win this day.]
[On the other side of the building in another room, the Jet Set Trio of Aoyama also waited for their time to come. Tomi, the leader, was on the phone with his mother and father, who were also in the stands, wishing him the best of luck. Karada was on the ground, grunting as he was doing sit-ups, getting himself pumped and motivated. And Luis was on his phone, looking at a picture of him and his Abuela, his face in a neutral position. She, unfortunately, could not make it to the event, but she promised that she'd be with him there in spirit.]
[Five minutes later, all of the Division teams were out center stage in front of the crowd. Different cheers and chants could be heard as they were all rooting for their respective Divisions to win. Standing in front of the teams was none other than the Deputy Prime Minister, Ichijiku Kadenokoji. A spotlight appeared from above shining down on her as she raised her right arm in the air.]
Ichijiku: The time for the final part of the Division Rap Battle Tournament will now commence!
[At her announcement, the audience began screaming and cheering in anticipation. More lights above came on, showing all of the various teams from the Divisions. Some reveled in the cheer and admiration of the crowds, while some wished they were somewhere else, and others paid no attention, just ready and eager to get started.]
Ichijiku: Before we begin, the Prime Minister and leader of the Party of Words, Ms. Otome Tohoten, would like to speak a few words. You will all give her your undivided attention!
[At this, an image of the Chairwoman's face appeared on the large TV screen in the Coliseum. Her appearance was met with mixed reactions, especially from the teams. Some kept their faces neutral, while most did not bother to hide their disdain or hatred from the woman who was responsible for their not only being there but also for directly or indirectly ruining their lives.]
Otome: The time of using profane weapons and cheap trickery to win a fight has come to an end. A new age has arrived, one where not swords or fists win the day, but the power of one's words. All of you use words to protect and conquer territories. This is undeniable proof that words will always be more powerful than weapons ever could be.
Aranai: *Scowls* This bitch sure loves to hear herself talk, doesn't she?
Kisouna: *Scowls* She reminds me of my opposition: they use a lot of words, but they're really not saying much in the end.
Tomi: *Glares* You'll pay for threatening my family one day, Otome. I promise you that.
Otome: *Holds up a Hypmic* Now, with your Hypnosis Microphone in hand, demonstrate the power of your words, and achieve unconditional victory! The Division Rap Battle Tournament will now begin!
[After her short speech, the Division teams gathered around as Ichijiku explained the rules. After a flip of the coin determining who would strike first, the other teams save for the ones from Ueno and Aoyama remained on stage. The two teams activated their Hyp Microphones before staring each down.]
Ichijiku: Now, if nothing further, it is time to start! Get ready...
BRING THE BEAT!!!
The End
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ao-anonymousobsesser ¡ 4 years ago
Text
Oops?
Hey! So! I’m not dead! Surprised? Me too!
This story was written for my good friend @comfortably-chaotic-mind -  I love them, please go follow them and read whatever they post. Some ColdFlash written just for you, buddy, since I know I haven’t written much...and this is honestly kind of garbage and not in any way explicitly ColdFlash until the end, and I might eventually continue it in a real story (probably not). But anyway! Good job with school! Here you go!
Oops? a ColdFlash Fic for @comfortably-chaotic-mind - 4700 words
“Allen.”
He glanced up, fingers pausing their furious typing but still hovering over the keys. “Yeah?”
“There’s some guy at the door, says he knows you.”
Barry’s brow scrunched. “Who?”
His roommate shrugged. “Didn’t give a name. Said he was your friend, asked me to get you.” A pause, and he looked over his shoulder almost nervously. “He’s creepy, dude—I think he might be on the run. Who the fuck you hangin’ out with?”
Realization dawned, and he laughed. “Oh, okay,” he said, still laughing. “Yeah, it’s fine. It’s just Len—you can let him in.”
“You sure?”
Barry rolled his eyes. “Yes, Hal. I promise he won’t steal your stuff.”
His roommate’s eyes narrowed at that. “Even more suspicious,” he muttered, but he disappeared back into the hall.
There were muffled voices—Hal telling Len where to find him—and then the front door shut and the TV in the living room turned on. If he listened really carefully, he could hear quiet footsteps on the creaky stairs.
The door to his bedroom-slash-office opened again, and he turned back to his computer. The data report wasn’t going to finish itself. It didn’t take long for the door to shut, and then a man’s figure came to lean against the desk beside his arm.
“No Cold-Gun today?” Barry asked, conversational. “How bold of you. You know, without that thing, I could take you to jail whenever I want.”
The man scoffed. “We have a deal, Scarlet—I don’t kill, you don’t turn me in. I haven’t killed anyone, so…”
He rolled his eyes. “What do you want, Snart?” he sighed. “And how did you even find me?”
“I asked Vibe.”
Barry waited for him to continue, but he left it at that, so Barry finally stopped talking and looked up with a raised brow and a completely nonplussed expression. “What do you want, Cold?” he snapped.
Len just frowned. “What are you doing here, Scarlet?”
“What do you mean?” He gestured pointedly around them. “I’m working.”
“You work in Central City,” the man corrected, almost…grumbling.
Barry shook his head, face scrunching in utter confusion. “No, I mean—I had to go back to school.”
“Back?”
“Yeah? Back? This is where I went to get my degree in the first place, and now I have to take an updated course. Just a few weeks. I should be back by next month. I’m even getting paid for it.” He grinned, though it almost immediately fell when Len just stared at him. “What?”
“When did you get your degree?”
“Every CSI has a college degree, Snart. It’s mandatory.”
“No. When were you in Coast City?”
He shrugged. “I moved the summer after high school. School for three years, training for one, and then I went home.” The other man was silent, and his brow scrunched in concern. “Why?”
Len shook his head. “No reason,” he said quietly, glancing around the room. The way he said it indicated that there was, in fact, a reason, but that he would not be disclosing it. “What are you doing back?”
“Refresher course,” Barry replied slowly. “They updated the curriculum for the new tech we have now, and Singh offered to send me back here instead of doing the course in Central, since Coast City is way better in the university department.”
The other man didn’t ask anything else, still looking around the room, and the speedster sighed deeply.
“Look, Snart, I have a lot of work to do, so if there’s a reason for this visit, please get to—”
“What was it like,” he interrupted, the words rough and halting, as if he were forcing them out of his throat, “for you, when you were in your coma?”
Barry blinked in surprise. “How do you know about that?”
“Humor me, Scarlet.”
“I…” He hesitated before shaking his head. “Well, it was hard, at first. Not just because I woke up with superspeed, but—when I was…asleep…I was just dreaming. About anything, everything—and it didn’t really feel like anything more than just regular dreams and stuff. And then I woke up, and it had been, like…nine, ten months without me even noticing. So I had to deal with that.” He sighed. “The world just kind of…I mean, the world doesn’t stop because a random CSI is in a coma. No one really cared—No one other than Iris and Joe, and STAR Labs kinda. So, yeah. It was rough for a while. Everything had changed, and I didn’t even get to see it.”
Len was quiet for a long moment. Barry watched him carefully, searching for any sign as to what this was all about.
Finally, the older man sighed and shook his head. “How did you know it was me at the door?”
“Hal’s description,” he replied without hesitation. “He’s pretty intuitive about stuff. Said you looked like you were on the run, and creepy, and suspicious, but if he thought you were actually dangerous, he would have come out and said it. And you’re the only one I know that could pull that off and still say, I’m a friend of Barry’s, can you get him? with a totally straight face.” He shrugged. “Anyone else who might have done that is still in Central. I got an update last night—they all went out to celebrate Caitlin’s first official catch.” He grinned.
Len rolled his eyes. “You left a bunch of newbies to protect the city,” he sighed disapprovingly.
Barry frowned. “You know, when we first met, I was a newbie,” he pointed out. “I had only been a speedster for like—a month.” He huffed. “Cisco and Iris have it under control for now. It’s fine. The city’s in good hands.”
“I don’t like it.”
The speedster paused, head tilted as his eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“I just don’t. A lot can happen without the Scarlet Speedster around.”
“There are three other speedsters in town right now. I think they’ll be fine.”
“None of them are you.”
“What’s your point, Len?” he sighed, exasperated now. “Did something happen?”
“No.”
Just then, Barry’s alarm sounded, startling him. It was noon: officially lunchtime. He huffed, shutting down his laptop and standing to stretch. Then his phone started beeping again—not his alarm, this time, but his text-tone. And then it started ringing. Like, ringing ringing, in the way it only did when Cisco’s latest installation was being put to use.
He had only let him put the app on his phone a few weeks ago, before going to Coast City, just in case. If several people called him at once, he could choose which he wanted to answer rather than hearing the busy-line beeping noise when he answered the phone.
Barry raised a brow and reached for the device.
Len grabbed his arm, pulling him back. “Don’t answer that,” he all but ordered. “Trust me.”
“Why?” His face scrunched. “What’s going on?” he demanded.
“They’re just going to tell you that I’m on my way here,” the man explained carefully. “And since I’m already here, you don’t need to know.”
“How did you get here so fast, then?” Barry retorted.
“Kara lent me her generator.” Len shrugged. “She was…strangely nice.” His brow rose. “I’m guessing you only told her the good parts, and not that I’m a criminal?”
The speedster ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe? By the time I met her, you were with the Legends.” He paused. “How did you meet her?”
“Long story.”
“Obviously, I’ve got time.” He crossed his arms and glared pointedly. “What the hell is going on, Len? What did you do in Central that has everyone trying to get ahold of me? When did you get back from the Waverider? Why are you here?”
“I didn’t know where else to go!” Len shouted, expression crumpling. “Mick won’t talk to me, Lisa’s underground, Sara thinks I’ve lost my mind, and the rest of the crew—they can barely look at me after what they did! What they let me do!”
Barry was utterly confused, now, and he took a slow step forward as if approaching a scared, wounded animal. “What are you talking about?” he asked carefully.
“I died, Barry.”
He froze—actually froze, standing stock-still like a robot shutting down. This was… “What?” he asked. “What…That…What?”
Len sighed, slumping down into the vacated office chair. “The Time Masters were—They were gonna let Vandal Savage wreck the timeline. Kill whoever he wanted. They said they had to, to ensure the world’s survival.”
“What does that mean?”
“In a couple hundred years, we’re going to be invaded by Thanagaar—an alien planet with a warlike people. And the Time Masters don’t think we’ll make it unless Savage is there to help us. So, they let him do what he wants, shape the world into what he thinks is best, and he’ll save the world.”
“It’s Vandal Savage, Len. He can’t be trusted.”
“I know,” he snapped. “We all knew that.” He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We decided to destroy their time-keeping device. The Oculus, they called it. It held the records for every timeline, every little change that would or could occur. Destroy that, and time is guided by freewill.”
“And?”
“And the only way to destroy it was to stand right next to it, holding down the button until it exploded.” He looked up, watching the horror dawn across Barry’s face, and nodded. “Ray was going to be the one, thinking his Atom suit would protect him, but we saw that it wouldn’t. And then Mick tried to step in, because Rip convinced him it was the way to repent—by saving his friend. I couldn’t—I couldn’t let him die.”
“Len…”
“I couldn’t let Mick die, Barry,” he snapped. “Not like that. Not when I—I was the one who dragged him into the whole thing. Into the Legends. He followed me, after everything, after everything I did to him, and…and I couldn’t do it.”
“I get it.”
“I knocked him out, took his place…blew up the Oculus. Took out half the Time Masters, too.”
“And then?”
“I died. Disintegrated. Became…Nothing.”
Barry reached out to set a hand on his shoulder, brow scrunched in sympathy. “How long?”
“I don’t know.” Len shook his head. “Days? Years? Centuries? I…I wasn’t sleeping, exactly, or dreaming. It was all…real. And then you were there. Every time I managed to pull myself together, every time I relaxed into the pain enough to think…You were there.”
He was confused again. “I don’t remember…”
The man was already shaking his head. “An older version of you,” he clarified. “You were…maybe thirty?” He sighed. “There were so many fragments, different timelines…It’s hard to keep track. Most of them didn’t make sense.”
“Why?”
“I’d rather not say. If you don’t mind.”
Barry shrugged. “That’s fine, I guess. It’s your trauma.” He sighed. “So this was maybe…three, four years in the future.”
“Most of it.”
“And the rest?”
Len looked away at that, silent for a minute. Then, quietly, “The last one was a few weeks ago. He brought me back to the Waverider.”
“He?”
“You…Future-You.” He chuckled softly. “I fell through a wormhole onto his kitchen floor.”
Barry laughed. “I’m sure that was surprising.”
Len shrugged. “He didn’t seem surprised. But it could have been because he was older.”
“What do you mean, he didn’t seem surprised?”
“He…” Hesitation, again. “He just leaned over and said, Finally. Then he helped me up, explained some science stuff that I couldn’t understand, and offered to take me back to my time.”
“How old was he—I?” Barry stuttered.
“Forty? Maybe forty-five?” Another shrug. “You might have been older, though—I had a feeling. Speedster aging must be slower.”
“Strange.” He shook his head. “How long did you stay with the Legends?”
“Not long. Like I said, they can barely stand to be around me.” He sighed. “It didn’t take much to get them to drop me off in 2016.”
“You still haven’t told me how you met Supergirl. She’s on another Earth, Len—the Waverider couldn’t have taken you there, and I don’t think you have any favors left with Cisco. So how did you meet?”
Len nodded, thoughtful. “That…is complicated.”
“More complicated than literally dying?”
“Yes.”
Barry huffed and sat down on his bed, crossing his arms. “Hit me with it, then.”
“First of all, I didn’t meet her this year. I met her…probably at least fifteen or twenty years from now. It’s all a little fuzzy.”
“Why?”
“She—Well, her team, really…They were the ones who pulled my threads together.” He shook his head. “They didn’t mean to, not really—they were looking for some sort of robot, or something—but they got me out first. I was unconscious for that part. Woke up in a hospital bed next to Kara’s.”
“She was hurt?”
Len shook his head again. “Not exactly…More drained. The machine they used drew power from her. She insisted it was fine, that she just needed some Vitamin D, and she’d be fine.”
“Her power comes from the Sun.”
“I know that now—I didn’t know back then.” He sighed. “She asked who I was…and when I told her, she immediately asked if I knew you and Oliver.”
“Of course she did,” he muttered. “And then?”
“I don’t remember a lot of it,” Len admitted. “She gave me one of her spare generators, and then I woke up on Older-Barry’s kitchen floor.” A scoff. “And then I get home to a crew that no longer wants anything to do with me. They dropped me off in Central. I looked for Lisa, but it looks like she’s underground—she’s not at any of her usual safehouses.”
Barry grimaced, shifting slightly in his seat. “Um…”
The former villain narrowed his eyes. “What’s that, Scarlet?”
He winced. “Lisa’s not underground, Len.”
“What are you talking about? Is she in jail?”
“No…” Barry sighed. “She’s on Earth-2.”
“Why?” Len demanded, lurching from his seat.
“Because she’s sick,” he said calmly, holding his hands up in a placating gesture. “Harry—Earth-2 Wells knew a doctor who specializes in her condition, one who’s much better than anyone we know on this Earth, and we sent her over there to get help. Cisco’s probably on his way there right now to tell her you’re back.” He paused. “Actually, she’s probably with the you who lives there, now that I think about it.”
“What?” That made him pause in his anger, at least, now confused and concerned. “Why?”
“I don’t think you want to know,” Barry hedged. “But she’s in good hands, I promise.”
“Just tell me, Barry.”
“Fine,” he sighed. “The doctor I told you about, the specialist? It’s her—Earth-2 Lisa Snart is a bio-engineer with a Medical Degree. Basically, she’s Caitlin. Minus the ice powers and with the addition of some pretty sweet inventions.” He grimaced. “Her brother is…the Mayor. Of Central City. They killed their dad when they were kids—self-defense.”
Len was quiet for a moment. Then: “You’ve met, then?”
He nodded. “Twice, actually. Once on accident…and then again when Harry introduced us to Lenny and Doc. They’re…nice. Safe. Very protective, which isn’t surprising.” He grinned. “Last I talked to Lisa, she was awake and feeling a lot better. She hasn’t had an episode in almost two months, and her brain activity is back to normal. She sounds better, too—more like herself. Even flirted with Cisco when they talked, which she hadn’t done in a while…”
“She’s okay, then?”
“Not at a hundred percent yet,” Barry warned with a shrug. “But yeah. She’s safe. Happy. Feeling better than she did when she first came to us.”
“What happened?”
“She just—Showed up at Joe’s one night, out of nowhere. I think it was maybe a month or so after you left—she had called Cisco before that, asking if we knew where you were, and we told her, and she was pissed at me for some reason.” He laughed, just a little. “Then she just shows up out of nowhere at Joe’s house, scares the hell out of me when she just walks right through the front door. Which was locked.” He shook his head. “Apparently, she stole your key?” His brow raised.
Len just smirked. “Lock-picking gets tedious after a while.”
“Where did you even—”
“Iris should be more careful about leaving her purse lying around.”
“…Whatever.” Barry huffed. “So, anyway, Lisa just walks in one night—middle of the night, out of nowhere—sits right next to me on the couch, scaring the hell out of me. She looks at me, and I could already tell something was messed up with her, because she just…she didn’t look right. She looked tired and sad and…sick.” He sighed. “She looked at me for a minute and then said, Don’t freak out. You know, like she hadn’t just appeared out of nowhere. And then she said, I need your help. And I was like, With what? And she told me she ran into an old boyfriend and he did something to her.”
“What the f—”
“Not that,” he assured quickly. “That was my first thought, but she kind of lost it when I asked her, and—yeah. So then, when she calmed down from that, she got this headache…migraine…thing, and that was when I first saw her get one of her attacks.” He grimaced. “It was…bad. Weird, and scary, and it actually kind of freaked me out.” A sigh. “So, uh, I called Caitlin first, and then Cisco and Harry, and asked them to meet us at STAR Labs. Harry had actually seen something like it before, on his Earth, and he knew a specialist—other-Lisa—who could help. So we took her there. She insisted that I had to come with her, and she wouldn’t let me leave until she was with Lenny and Doc, until she was sure she could trust them.”
Len thought this all over for a moment. “What exactly did this attack entail?”
“Hard to describe…” Barry thought about it. “She kind of…exploded? Not her body, but like…her spirit, kind of. Like an astral projection, except she couldn’t control it enough to actually appear as a person.” He sighed. “We met the ex-boyfriend a few weeks later…Roscoe?”
“Dillon.” He sneered. “He’s still around?”
“Not anymore,” the speedster said darkly. “He was a metahuman…some kind of tornado-hurricane-spinning abilities. Cisco called him Topsy-Turvy, but after he just kept coming and coming…it was an accident, but he died.”
“How did he hurt Lisa?”
“As far as we can tell…She was working on some sort of mercenary work or something, and he was robbing a bank, and they…literally ran into each other. She got thrown into a wall, got a knock on the head, and apparently the concussion triggered some kind of ability she didn’t know about.”
“She wasn’t in Central—”
“When the Particle Accelerator blew.” Barry nodded. “Yeah, we know.” He winced. “You’re not gonna like our theory on that.”
“Why not?” Len asked, very slowly.
“Because it might be my fault.”
He blinked, surprised. “What?”
“Turns out…I kind of…give off small amounts of Dark Matter because of the Speed Force…mostly when I run.”
“And?”
“And, the people that I transport, if they carry a metahuman gene, could, theoretically, absorb that Dark Matter in the same way that people affected by the Particle Accelerator did…and, theoretically, this would make them more likely to develop an ability when exposed to violent trauma.” A pause. “I transported Lisa a handful of times when we were helping you guys last year, and even before that for different reasons.”
Len didn’t say anything to this, instead looking down at his hands.
“I’m sorry, Len,” Barry said quietly. “If I’d known…”
“It’s not your fault,” he told him. “You didn’t know.”
“I…”
“Not every bad thing that happens is your fault, Scarlet,” Len said with a smirk. “It’s alright.”
Barry huffed. “Fine.” He was quiet for a minute. “If you want, I can take you to her. You know, so you can see for yourself.”
He thought about it for a bit before shaking his head. “No,” he decided. “If she’s getting what she needs, I don’t want to interrupt it. If Cisco does tell her and she wants to see me, I’ll go, but for now, she needs her rest.”
The speedster nodded in understanding. “Okay.” His phone was still ringing, and he looked at it. “I’m just gonna tell them that everything is fine.”
He picked up the device, ignoring the calls, and opened the group chat, which was full of about a hundred messages that all said pretty much the same thing. He sent out a text saying, Yeah, he’s here. Just wants to talk about some stuff. Everything is fine. Thanks, I’ll let you know later. Love you guys.
With that, Barry sighed and slipped the phone into his pocket. “So, what are you going to do now?” he asked the former villain.
Len just smiled. “Not sure. I could go back to robbing banks…but I don’t really need the money. Maybe I’ll offer your team some help in Central.”
“What do you mean, you don’t need the money?” His eyes narrowed.
“Blowing up the Oculus had a few benefits.” He shrugged. “I know all the lottery numbers for the next five years. I’ve already made four-hundred grand.”
“Len…”
“Technically not a crime.”
“Still.” Barry shook his head with a deep sigh. “Fine, whatever. Well, I’m sure STAR Labs could use the help. And I’ll be back in no time…as soon as I finish this course, which is…not what I expected.”
“Too hard?”
“Too easy,” he corrected, scoffing. “I’ve read all the material, and the projects are all…solved with very little effort. Nothing near as challenging as my actual job in Central. Science there is always complicated.”
“Because of the metas.”
“Yeah.” He shrugged. “Superpowers make regular science look way easier than it did in college.” He nodded at the computer. “Actually, after the paper I’m working on right now, I only have two more and a final exam. I could be done by next week, if I wanted. I just don’t want Singh to think I rushed through it.”
“He already trusts you more than any other CSI, Barry. I think he trusts you to do the work on your own schedule.”
“Maybe.”
“Then I’ll see you back in Central next week.”
“I—”
“Next week, Barry.”
A sigh. “Fine. Next week.” His phone buzzed, he looked at the message and laughed. “Harry says your sister is attempting a prison break to try to see you. You might want to visit her.”
Len chuckled. “Alright then. I suppose it’s time to tell her what’s happened.” He stood, holding out a hand when Barry followed suit. When their hands clasped, the villain-turned-legend pulled the speedster forward until they were almost hugging. “I’ll see you soon, Scarlet.”
“See you soon, Cold.”
And with the press of a button, Len was gone, leaving Barry to wonder exactly what just happened.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
6 Weeks Later
“Barry…”
“Iris…”
She sighed. “This is getting unprofessional.”
He laughed, a little nervous. “What are you talking about?”
“You and Len.” It had taken a while for everyone to get used to each other, but now he was just Len instead of Cold. Progress. “You guys have got to stop flirting in the field. It’s weird.”
“We do not flirt.”
“You’re literally blushing, Barry.” Her tone was amused now. “Do you have a crush?”
“Iris,” the speedster all but whined, pulling a t-shirt over his head. “This is weird.”
“Why? Because we dated?”
“Yes!”
“Barely.” Iris rolled her eyes. “Barry, it’s fine. You have a crush on Len, it’s fine…but you should probably tell him.”
“No!” he said immediately. “No, that’s—That’s a bad idea.”
“Why? I’m pretty sure he likes you.”
That made him pause. “Really?” He bit his lip, looking at her. “You think so?”
“Lisa keeps teasing him about it.” She nodded. “And you’re both clearly attracted to each other, and you’re always flirting, so…Why not just come out and say it?”
“What if you’re wrong?”
“I’m not.”
“What if it ends badly?”
“What if it doesn’t?” Iris laughed brightly. “Barry, sometimes you get in your own way. You just gotta go for it sometimes. Take a leap of faith. It’s gonna be okay.”
Barry was quiet for a long time, and Iris eventually left him to his own devices.
Ultimately, he decided to go for it; he went to find Len. Unsurprisingly, he was at “their” spot: a diner across from Jitters and CCPD, filled with leather booths and chrome and the smell of fresh homemade pie.
Barry slid into the booth across from Len, who looked up from his phone with a smile. “Hey, Scarlet. Look at this.”
He turned the device around so the speedster could see. “What’s that? Oh—Oh, that’s so cool!” He grinned. “Lisa-Squared?”
“Yeah. Lisa drew up the models, and Doc built it. It came out pretty neat, I think.”
“It did, yeah. I like the melting feature—there won’t be ice-streaks all over the city.” He laughed. “Of course they’re gold—Lisa’s choice, I’m sure.”
“Naturally.” Len shrugged. “You can’t take the Gold out of the Glider, I guess. Not completely.”
“No, I guess not.” Barry leaned his head on his palm, elbow on the table.
The newly-branded Citizen Cold raised a brow and put his phone away. “Something on your mind, Barry?”
He shrugged. “Iris came to talk to me today.”
“What about?”
“She said that we flirt a lot when we’re in the field.” He scrunched his nose. “I told her she was crazy, and she looked at me like I was an idiot…not unlike you’re looking at me right now, Len—what the hell?”
“Barry,” he said quietly, slowly, “I don’t know how to break this to you, but almost everything we say to each other is banter…which is a form of flirting.”
“But—But,” Barry sputtered. “But!”
“What’s wrong, Scarlet?” Len teased. “Can’t keep up?”
He frowned, almost pouting. “You never said anything,” he accused.
The other man shrugged. “I was told not to.”
“By who?”
“By you. Older you—The one who brought me back. He said you had to figure it out on your own.”
Barry stammered again, arms flailing. “What the hell!” he said, frustrated. “That’s stupid!”
“You’re calling yourself an idiot?” Len clarified.
“Yes! I’m an idiot, now, but like—that’s just stupid.” He sighed. “I mean, I guess it makes sense to keep the timeline the way it should be. But still.”
They were both quiet for a long minute. Long enough for a waitress to come by and take drink orders and then bring them back.
Once she disappeared, Barry took a sip of his soda and then suddenly blurted, “Will you go with me to Jesse’s party on Earth-2 this weekend?”
Len raised a brow. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? That’s a lot of pressure.”
“It’s just a party, Len,” he said with a grin. “All our friends will be there, and we can be together without doing the awkward first-date thing…I mean, we already did a lot of that without realizing. Unless you want to…”
There was a pause as he thought about it, enough to make Barry almost panic, but Len nodded slowly. “Alright. But I have two requests.”
“Shoot.”
“One: If Caitlin makes her Speedster Alcohol, you have to stop drinking at least two hours before we leave. I want you sober when we head out.”
“Why?”
“Because, two: I want to go for a walk. We’re not doing the first-date-awkward dinner thing, and movies aren’t something we have time for, but we can go for a walk and talk about things.” A pause. “It’s important, to me.”
Barry thought about this, about what it might mean, but he didn’t see a reason to say no. Besides… “That sounds nice. Okay. I won’t drink too much, and I’ll stop before we leave so we can go talk. It’s a deal.”
“It’s a date, Scarlet.”
“A date, Cold.”
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angst-king ¡ 4 years ago
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Stuck in this Static void pt 5
((TW: mention of abuse, suicidal behavior, depressed behavior, and violence)) Walking into the ER’s waiting room, she sets him down in a chair. As he’d done in the car, he curls up still shaking but now his fingers are digging into his cold, clammy skin. At the front desk Fuyumi urgently asked. “Can I get some help please?!” There were a small group of nurses who looked to her, about three of them. “What can I help you with ma’am?” One of the youngest nurses at the desk asked in return. “M-My brother he tried to drown himself in the bathtub, he’s bleeding and he’s still got suicidal thoughts.” The nurse furrows her brows. “Did you pull him out?” “n-no he came out himself and told me”  Coming out from behind the large desk area, the nurse goes over to Shouto. Stethoscope around her neck which she untangles as she gets down to the boy. “Hi there, what's your name?” She spoke gently as if she were talking to a toddler, Shouto looked at her and quietly replied. “Sh-shouto….T-t-Todoroki” “Alright Shouto, well you can call me Itsuki...now can you sit up a little I need to listen to your chest okay.” Shouto hesitantly sat up which had him coughing, finally a bit more water came up but then he gagged. He’d coughed enough to make himself feel nauseous. Itsuki noticed this and quickly grabbed one of the trash bins nearby and placed it under shouto’s chin. Then she looked at the women at the front desk. “Hey can one of you get a doctor over here like now!” For being so small she could command a room even at 4’8. Her voice boomed with authority which had the other nurses up and paging a doctor. 
Her attention was back on Shouto as she heard more liquid come up but it’s not just water. Vomit gushing from his shaking gaping lips, Fuyumi is right next to him rubbing his back. Itsuki couldn’t do much at this time but asked Fuyumi questions. “How old is Shouto?” “he’s gonna be 14 on the other side of the year.” “Does he have any medical conditions, or any diagnosis of anything?” “No nothing he’s physically healthy but...I don’t know about mentally any more.” The way Fuyumi’s last sentence came out made Itsuki frown with sympathy. It was when the vomiting stopped, it had only lasted a minute, but Shouto felt weak on his feet. Moving the trash can Fuyumi sat shouto back down, she could feel his entire body shaking in her hold. The doctor comes over “Alright what’s going on here?” Itsuki looked at the doctor and explained that Shouto had suicidal behavior and thoughts that he’d tried to drown himself. Looking at Fuyumi he asked “and who are you to this young man?” “I’m his older sister” “okay that’s what I thought, let's get him to bed. Jima can you grab a wheelchair?”Itsuki nods to the doctor and hustles off to grab a wheelchair to put shouto in and wheel him off to a bed and give him a proper check. 
When the chair is placed beside Shouto, he’s asked if he himself can get in. He nods and stands on shaky feet just barely making it to sit down. He’s wheeled off to one of the beds where the nurse points out the coloration in Shouto’s lips. “I don’t like that blue color in his lips, doctor.” “Alright we’ll see if we can fix that, I wanna see his oxygen levels and vitals in general. He may have coughed up the water but it can still cause side effects to his lungs.” All this talk was making Fuyumi anxious, what was gonna happen to her little brother. Would they focus on the fact that this was a suicide attempt, would they put him on anti depressances? Would they question them about their home life? Is it safe enough to tell them about their father’s horrible behavior? What would they do, could they even do anything about that? All these thoughts began to have Fuyumi shaking. Fear gripping her, chilling her saliva and making her feel as if she were drowning in her own cold abyss of perturbation.
 “Ma’am...Ma’am!” She’s pulled from her spiraling thoughts and she sees that they’re in a hospital bay behind the curtain. Shouto’s been lifted onto a bed and the nurse is looking at her concernedly. “O-oh s-sorry, did you need something?”Itsuki sighed in relief before replying. “No you just looked to be spacing out, I never got your name by the way.” Fuyumi blushes at the kind woman and she says to her. “Oh sorry, my name is Fuyumi Todoroki.” Then the doctor speaks. “His breathing is better than I’d thought it’d be, which is great, though Itsuki these lacerations are a bit deep, the bleeding has stopped but these need suturing. Could you grab the suture kit please while I check to see if shouto  has any mobility?” Itsuki nods at her doctor’s request, going to fetch the suture kit leaving Fuyumi and Shouto with the doctor. “Shouto I have a question for you.” He states while he places IV lines into shouto’s other arm. Looking up at him acknowledging the man and giving him his full attention. “Shouto are you still feeling suicidal? If so can you explain why?” 
Shouto frowned, he had to think before answering and he still stammered through his words. “Y-yeah I-I do. I-I um….”He then looks at Fuyumi and she recognizes this look, she knows that Shouto is scared to tell people and keeps those things a secret. She gave him a nod so he continued. “I have a-a rough h-home life. F-father b-beats and sc-screams at me….T-tonight he t-told me to d-die.” The doctor looked horrified, Fuyumi confirms this. “He’s always hurting Shouto, gas lights him into a depressive and suicidal condition. He’s hit him so hard he threw up to the point of being dehydrated. He wants Shouto to be his business successor and wants him to be perfectly like him.” The doctor couldn’t help but give a sad look to them. 
“How long has this been going on?” “the feelings or what our father does?” “your father’s behavior.” Fuyumi answered this one “It started even before Shouto was born, he tried it with one of our late siblings...his name is Touya, he died sometime ago.” “Alright” The nurse returns with the suture kit, grabbing a syringe and filling it with a numbing agent. “Alright Shouto we’re gonna numb your arm up a bit okay then we’ll get started” The doctor warns before sticking the needle into Shouto’s arm, he didn’t wince as if he couldn’t feel it. Shouto felt numb physically and emotionally. Fuyumi was a little saddened by her little brother’s lack of reaction.
Shouto’s arm was bandaged up in no time and the doctor told them that he’d like for Shouto to stay here for a little while. Fuyumi was old enough to admit her sibling through the paperwork so they didn’t have to call Enji which was a big relief. Now came the part Fuyumi dreaded, the doctor came over to her quietly while Shouto was resting, they’d put him on a nebulizer to treat any potential lung infections. She’d been lulled into tired silence by the machine until she was approached by the doctor. “Hello Fuyumi, I need to talk to you about something.”  He says, alerting the girl who’s eyes darted towards him. She sits up fully from her slouched position in the guest chair. “Yes, what is it?” “I think Shouto needs to be admitted into a psychiatric unit. You’ve said he’d been gas lit several times into such thoughts and behaviors, sure medication could work but. His home is not a safe environment for him to try medications.” Fuyumi sighed “not again” she muttered as she’d remembered her mother being admitted to a psychiatric hospital due to Enji’s behavior towards her. Shuddering at the memory she’s interrupted by the curious doctor who hears her. “Again?”  He repeats making Fuyumi blush from knowing he’d heard her. She had to tell him, so she did, not in the most vivid detail but answered him with an explanation. Explaining that Rei had been admitted to a psych ward when Shouto was younger because she’d had a mental breakdown from Enji’s abuse and poured scalding water on Shouto’s eye. 
The doctor seemed to understand and knew of the concerns yet he held patience and replied back. “Well he’s gonna need to take a few tests and that will decide on whether he needs to be admitted so it's not definite but. It's a better option.” “So when will the test be done?” “Well it can be as soon as tomorrow, or sometime during the week or so.” Fuyumi looks down into her lap with a small nod of acknowledgement of the reality she’d be facing. Her little brother potentially being placed in a psychiatric ward. It worried her yet, she also knew that he’d be away from their abusive father.
 This would give her time to try and figure out living situations. Shouto didn’t have any friends and lacked good social skills due to his upbringing. So he couldn’t stay with someone for the time being even if he weren’t to be admitted to a mental hospital. Still she didn’t know if she could support shouto, or if she could even get him away from Enji permanently. She’d need adult help and most likely a lawyer but. Fear came in, what if Enji had the power to bribe those deterring them from helping Fuyumi setting her back further to keep shouto under his rule. She needed to figure out something. It didn't matter if Shouto would be admitted or not, she had to do something for her little brother. “I’ll leave you to rest, miss, you seem to be tired and it's almost 3 am and you’ve had a long night.” The doctor says politely bowing and giving Fuyumi the time to thank him before he leaves.
The next day, Shouto didn’t wake up till sometime in the afternoon and boy did he hurt. His body was aching, and he still had a slight cough yet he couldn’t care any less. He just curled up wanting to go back to sleep but right as he was about to shut his eyes to block the bright light of the hospital and the sunshine. The doctor knocks on the door, not only startling shouto and making him grumble but. Waking up Fuyumi who had fallen asleep in the small chair. Letting himself in the doctor smiles seeing his patient and sibling are awake. “Hello there Shouto, nice to see you’re awake. I’m gonna check your vitals, then we’ll talk about the important stuff.” Shouto just sighed with a dull tired look on his face. His breathing and oxygen are checked, his heart was great, everything was great except for the fatigue and emotional numbness. 
Putting his stethoscope back around his neck, the doctor took a seat in the spare seat opposite Fuyumi. “Alright Shouto, lets talk.” Nodding the doctor started his talk. “You’re going to be psychologically tested to see how we can treat this. Whether you just need medication or you need to be admitted to a psych ward, you need to be honest while answering okay.” Shouto nods remaining silent, “You’ll be taking a test or two soon, a nurse will come in and will help you if need be but all answers will be on you.” When the doctor had finished, Shouto then asked. “Can I go back to sleep now?” Huffing the doctor shakes his head. “Sorry kiddo, you have to eat something. Can’t let you starve yourself.” Shouto frowns as the doctor gets up but he knows that it's for his own good.
Eating was a challenge, he didn’t have the motivation or strength, or even the appetite, but. He tried and got some of it down by the time the nurse came in the tests and a pencil. The test wasn’t long and took no time yet it was still a draining process, then adding them having to take blood from him afterwards he really wanted to sleep now. Some of the questions  stayed on his mind and whether he answered correctly or not. ‘Are you still considering suicide?’ Well Shouto hated living, sure he wanted to be happy for once in his lap but, he felt that he could only be happy if he were dead. ‘Do you starve yourself?’ Well he didn’t starve himself more like the rigorous beatings made him sick enough to not want to eat. Or he didn’t have the motivation to feed himself. ‘Do you cut?’ Yes he does, he had for a while now and it was his only way of feeling something, it let him cry which meant expressing emotions that felt forbidden when he wasn’t cutting. Then one last question rang through his head ‘Would you like to get help?’ Well that would depend, would his father have to consent to this? Could he willingly get help himself? Would he get away from Enji? He didn’t like feeling suicidal, or feeling empty inside, he wanted to feel normal but he never got to feel that so. How could he tell what normal was? Maybe they’d help him figure that out? Would they shove pills down his throat? Would the strap him down to a bed or put him in a straight jacket or even a padded room? Were those types of places real or were those just movie’s over dramatic depictions of a psych ward?
These thoughts surprisingly put Shouto to sleep, or those were the drugs.
Meanwhile Fuyumi was with Natsuo, she’d stopped by to tell him what happened and maybe get some advice? “So let me get this straight, father gaslights Shouto to the point of him trying to commit suicide, he stopped himself and asked for you to take him to the hospital. They’re saying that his best option would be to be admitted to a psychiatric facility so we can figure out how to get him away from father?” Natsuo reiterated taking in the information. Fuyumi nods “I-I just I don’t know if it really is a good idea, and I don’t know if either of us could financially support shouto on our own. We’re adults but we’re not as stable as our father is and most adults but. I think him going to the ward will give us some time to figure something out.”
 Natsuo rubs his temples, “I couldn’t agree more, I mean we’re both in school and so is shouto, not that it would be the worst thing to try and take him but. It's sudden and we need time.” he hated to hear about what happened to Shouto, it reminded him of their mother but this time he didn’t want things to get any worse with Shouto and. From how much better their mother has been doing, they both knew the doctor’s suggestion would be the best option for their little brother. “I’ll come with you next time to see shouto, when are you going back?” Fuyumi thought for a moment before answering. “Most likely tonight” “Okay then call me and I’ll meet you there.” With that promise Fuyumi grabbed her bag and slipped on her shoes but right before she left Natsuo called out. “Hey, I love you and...good luck with him okay” Fuyumi gave a small smile to her brother “I love you too” She waved him goodbye and left the dorm complex.
Time went by and Fuyumi found herself calling Natsuo to tell him it was time to meet up at the hospital. She soon stood in the parking lot, the street lights were turning on as the sun was setting. She smiles a little as she sees Natsuo walking towards her after hopping off of the bus. “Hey there, you ready?” He asked, Fuyumi nods “yeah, let's go in.” she says and leads him inside, she strolls towards the elevator till they’ve reached the ICU. She follows the placards till she reaches Shouto’s room. Knocking softly there isn’t an answer but she opens the door anyway.
Opening the door, Shouto is laying in bed, he’d seemed to have eaten a small dinner not long before the siblings had arrived. “Shouto?” Fuyumi’s voice calls out softly, heterochromic eyes flutter open with slight bags underneath them. Despite him resting most of the time, his eyes still held a tired look to them. “Hm?” He hummed quietly, walking further into the room Natsuo announced his presence. “Hello Shouto” Recognizing his voice, Shouto looked at them both seeing Natsuo he frowned. “Y-you dragged Nats into this Fuyumi?” Fuyumi knew what he meant but shook her head. “No Shouto, I didn’t drag him. I needed him to know so he could help us, help me, and help you.” Natsuo came over to his youngest sibling’s bedside, then brought him into a hug. Shouto tensed and flinched in Natsuo’s hold until he spoke. “Shh, I’m sorry about him and what he’d made you do and how you’ve been feeling...I’m here because I want to be able to help you get better. I know you may not want to go to the psych ward but. We’ve talked it over and it's the best option for you.” Shouto nods his head “I-I know it is….I thought about it actually”  Natsuo stands up letting him go so as to not squeeze the life out of him. Both the older ones seemed curious and asked for Shouto to elaborate. So he shared his thoughts, he knew he’d be better off in a hospital, he’d get away from his father and he hated these feelings even when he indulged himself in them. 
Shouto’s explanation pleased them, it made them happy that Shouto wanted to get better and was willing to do it. During this conversation the doctor came in as did another person. A woman who was sharply dressed like the man next to her. “Hello guys ah, another family member. Are you his brother?” Natsuo faces the man and shakes hands with him as he introduces himself. “Yes I’m Todoroki Natsuo” “nice to meet you, I have another person for you all to meet.” He gestures to the woman who’s holding a clipboard of paper and a pen in her chest pocket. She smiles sweetly to them all “hello I’m doctor Fumiya, I’m a pediatric psychologist.” She looked down to her patient in the hospital bed and approached him. “You must be Todoroki Shouto, yes?” The half and half colored male nods “Well I’m here to go over your test results with you and your siblings.” With a nod of approval the woman starts.
“You seem to obviously have depression but this seems to be chronic, seeing as you’ve stated that you’ve been having these feelings for so long. You do have anxiety which is traumatic induced. You don’t exactly have an eating disorder, it's more of the depression and anxiety making it hard and I’m going to guess that you’ve been beaten to the point of vomiting?” Hearing Dr Fumiya’s prediction, Shouto had to sadly confirm it. “Okay and with all of those things in consideration you’ve also stated that you’ve still considered suicide…. But you said you’re willing to get help. Is that still true?” “Still having thoughts of suicide or willing to get help?” “both.” “Yes to both of them” "Now how willing would you be to be admitted to a psych ward?"
 Shouto shrugged, his tone held exhaustion but also a small hint of desperation which could faintly be detected when he said "I'm just so tired of this life, and if I could be helped then I'll try it I guess." With that Dr Fumiya wrote down some things before replying. “That’s good, first we’re going to admit you to a ward where you will be given medications and such to try to see what will work for you. You will have a doctor who you will talk to as well as a therapist but it won't be everyday seeing as they obviously have other patients. You will also have group therapy and other types of ways to develop better coping mechanisms and life skills.”
 With this information Natsuo asked “Now from what I’ve heard about psych wards, there are certain things Shouto can’t take with him right?” “yes most of the rules apply to just about all psychwards. Though certain things can be gained or permitted if he’s under super vision. Like. He can’t have drawn strings in his clothes or have shoe laces. No razor shavers, no staples, anything that he could hurt himself with. He also can’t take his phone in with him and he may have 1-1 supervision, so someone may come in and check on him or be with him outside the door while he’s showering or in the bathroom. His door will never be locked and will most likely be open through the day time and unlocked during the night time.” She continued to explain more things and general rules most psychwards have. 
It was a little overwhelming but what did they expect? They were young adults who were admitting their abused, depressed and suicidal little brother to a mental health hospital. “So when will he be going and where?” “Well there’s one not too far from here and he can go as soon as tomorrow afternoon actually or as soon as the doctor is willing to release you here. Though his release date from the psych ward will be unknown for a while it depends on how cooperative you are, how well you’re handling things and as well as if it's safe for you to go back considering your living situations.” “O-oh so it all has its determining factors? How much should I pack for him?” Questioned Fuyumi “I’d say pack two weeks worth of clothes, they all have laundry days and schedules so he’ll be able to wash his clothes.” “Oh that's great” Natsuo joined, then Fuyumi’s phone rang, she looked to see who it was before frowning. It was Enji.
“What is it sis?” Asked Natsuo, he leaned over and saw who was calling and paled. “Shit, I take it you didn’t tell him?” “Right, and I don’t know what to tell him.” Then Dr Fumiya suggested, “let me talk to him, I’ll see what I can do.” hesitantly Fuyumi hands the woman her phone, she soon leaves the room. Sitting anxiously, Shouto's room is silently waiting for the psychologist to come back. They’re watching the door which soon opens after a minute and she hands the phone back to the eldest todoroki in the room. “He will be here soon, so doctor I suggest you alert security right away to keep an eye out for him.” The doctor nods and leaves the room after confirming Enji’s name, Fuyumi twiddled his thumbs a little thinking about what she was gonna do. She still lived with her father but that was to keep shouto as safe as she could. “Hey, you can probably live in one of the safety lots for people who escape abusive partners or family.” Suggested the psychologist, fuyumi listened with a quizzical look on her face. “You just explain your situation to them and they’ll let you stay. Though if you feel scared going to pack you and your brother’s bags you could always ask them to have an officer or two escort you to protect you.” With this option displayed to her, Fuyumi knew it would be safer for her to live in a safe home and be escorted by officers than try and go alone. “Alright thank you Dr Fumiya” Shouto then spoke up “Fuyumi….I-I don’t want him to c-come here” everyone could hear the anxiety in his voice and then they saw him. Shouto was shaking like the previous night he’d come into Fuyumi’s room. 
Eyes melting with sympathy and warmth for the teen who’s eyes welled with tears and fear. “Oh shouto sweetie” She cooed gently standing up, she goes over to him and pulls him so he’s facing into her midsection, Fuyumi is gently rubbing his back as he cries. “Shhh we’re not gonna let him near you, I promise.” Shouto’s still trembling body relaxes a little, still his hands lightly grip her sweatshirt he sobs. Natsuo added himself to the group and came to comfort his little brother, gently running his fingers through his hair. “We promise you shouto, you’re gonna be safe.”
 It took a minute for the teen to calm down enough to let go of his older siblings just in time the doctor came back. “Alright I’d told them about your father, and if he somehow gets in, don't hesitate to hit the emergency call button that’s on the side of shouto’s bed and on the wall next to the door” Advised the doctor who smiles at the sigh of relief of the small family. “See shouto we’re safe, the doctor has taken precaution and knows not to let him in.” Shouto just started to play with his fingers as a way to distract himself. “Well guys if you’ll excuse me I will be taking my leave to check on other patients, have a nice night.” “Thank you so much Dr Fumiya”  Just as she leaves the nurse comes in to take Shouto’s blood, which Shouto willingly gives. Not like he has much of a choice though.
Fuyumi had been there for a while and hadn’t eaten much so she’d gotten out of her chair to get something to eat. “Hey boys I’m gonna get something from the vending machine, you guys want anything?” “hm could you see if they have any instant ramen?” Fuyumi giggles at Natsuo’s request but she nods “Will do lil bro, you want anything Shou?” “u-um c-can I have milk please...strawberry?” “sure thing, I’ll be back.” She leaves the room and searches for the vending machines around the hall.
It wasn’t a long walk to find some vending machines in a small room, she found the instant ramen one and got Natsuo the spicy ramen he liked, she got herself the shrimp ramen. Next, getting a carton of milk, it took some figuring out since it ate her dollar but as she waited for her milk to be dispensed she heard a loud scream from down the hall. It made her jump but she still kept a hold on her food. 
Then a crash came and she had a horrible feeling that made her run to see what was going on. ‘What’s going on, where is it coming from’ the white haired woman thought then she saw it. The door to Shouto’s room was open and one nurse was shaking on the floor while the other was protecting shouto. And right in the center of it all was him, Todoroki Enji. The red head was yelling and trying to get to shouto with force but the small woman who Fuyumi could tell was Itsuki from the night before. She wasn’t backing down, her stance was defensive but ready to throw a punch at any moment. Eyes widened as she watched Itsuki, she then noticed why her stance was defensive, she was holding a needle full of something in her back hand as she warned Enji. “Look Mr Todoroki either calm down or I won't hesitate to inject you with this!” She says in a serious but calm manor, Enji on the other hand growled at her with a sneer on his face, “Oh and was it, probably just saline, not enough to put me out even if it was a sedative.” He shoved her but, her stance allowed for her to easily maintain her balance, “Leave now sir.” Her voice is low “Why the hell should I, you’ve got my stupid son here? I want him back!” “you’re a threat to his safety and you’re abusive to those around you. I won't let you take him” Itsuki doesn’t notice Fuyumi but seeing the other nurse who had some sort of head injury Fuyumi quickly dropped her food and ran with adrenaline down to get more staff members and hopeful security. 
She didn’t want to leave Itsuki to be the only barrier between Enji and Shouto but. What else could Fuyumi do! She can hear more of Enji’s yelling, more things crashing and clattering to the cold chemical tile floor. She flinches even as she’s doors and doors down. Getting to the front desk she frantically yells “please help! One of your nurses is injured and my father somehow got up here and he shouldn’t be. Please the only one protecting my brother is a nurse!” Crash! Then another scream but this sounded lower in pitch. “Shouto!” Fuyumi cried and almost ran back but grabbed someone who held her as staff members arose and went to help. It is the doctor looking after Shouto. “Hey hey he’s gonna be okay, Itsuki can take care of this I promise.” Fear paralyzed her into remaining still the doctor lets her go and it isn’t long before security shows up rushing past them to deal with the situation. 
Natsuo came down the hall and security came down not long after them. He sees Fuyumi’s worried look, and becomes concerned. “Hey Fuyumi what’s going on? You okay, why aren’t you with shouto?” Fuyumi explained what had happened and as she spoke she began to shake a little. Tears raining down as she’d remembered her promise to shouto. “W-we broke our pro-promise Nats.” At first Natsuo couldn’t remember but one look of seeing Enji being dragged away in restraints by security frowned and hugged her. “I know Fuyu, I’m sorry, he won't be mad at us though. Knowing Shouto he’ll be scared but not mad, if we can get to him now he should be okay.” “o-okay, let's see if we can go th-then.” She says as Natsuo holds onto her hand protectively after letting her out of his loving hold.
Hurrying down the hall they get to shouto’s room which is a mess with shattered medical supplies and Itsuki is right there calming a disquieted Shouto who was pale, otherwise unharmed thankfully. Sighing in relief Fuyumi came over and bowed to the nurse with lots of admiration and vederanation. “Thank you so much Ms Itsuki, I’m sorry you had to deal with our father though.” Huffing a little, the small nurse shrugged her shoulders. “I did what I had to do, but it's okay, it's not your fault that man is so horrible he doesn’t deserve to be called a father.” Fuyumi then looked at Shouto “I’m sorry he tried to get to you Shouto, are you okay?” Talking through shaking lips Shouto replies “H-he didn’t hurt me...ju-just sc-scared.” Fuyumi smiles a little, kissing his forehead gently. “I’m also S=sorry I dropped your food running to get help.” Shouto and Natsuo rolled their eyes “hey don’t apologize, it was the sleeze bag’s fault. I’ll go get it this time, you stay with Shou okay.” Natsuo offered with a small chuckle before looking at Itsuki who went back to checking Shouto over. “Ms Itsuki, would you like me to get you anything...kinda a way of thanking you for protecting our little brother.” Itsuki peers over at the tall white haired teen who’s giving her a genuine smile. “Dear I’m just glad you all are safe, that is enough thanks for me..” Her voice trails a little as she focuses her mind once more. Natsuo just nods, he heads to the vending machine area and gets the milk, ramen, and a bottle of water for Itsuki. Even if she hadn’t asked for anything, he couldn’t not repay her back.
When everyone was given their respective things. Sitting down they had time to each other again in silence. At this point silence meant peace no heart ache but silence also meant suffering and they knew that Shouto would be going to the psych ward soon. Hoping to rid of his suffering whether for good or temporarily enough to find time to find even better help in a healthier. All they could do was try.
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aliceslantern ¡ 4 years ago
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Give/Take, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 4
Ienzo has been too busy since the war to be overwhelmed by the past. But with little progress to be made in his work with Kairi, old nightmares start to invade.
Riku is a glorified housesitter. Lonely and faced with no choice but to wait for a way to find his friends, he eagerly accepts when Ienzo asks him to help do repairs around the castle. Before long, the two strike up an unlikely friendship, united by their dark pasts and their attempts to be better people.
But just as they begin to consider something more... Kairi wakes up.
Ienzoku (Ienzo/Riku), post-Melody of Memory, slow burn. Updates Thursdays until it's done.
Chapter summary:  Ienzo tells Riku about what happened after their fight at Castle Oblivion. With nothing else to do, Riku helps with castle repairs, and has a conversation with Aeleus.
Read it on FF.net/on AO3
---
For a while after he ran out of Riku’s room like a coward, Ienzo struggled to breathe. He remained sitting against the wall, curled up, adrenaline shocking him in little waves. He hated this sensation, how it robbed him of his self-control--
Breathe in. Breathe out. Riku hadn’t even gone for his throat, but rather his wrist, and only because Ienzo had touched him while he was dead asleep--
Redheaded demon and a puppet and the dark corner sharp hurt burning--
I am okay. I am okay. I am okay. He traced the soft scarred flesh with one hand, loosened the ascot at his throat. I can breathe. That was a memory. It wasn’t real. A flush of embarrassment came to his face when he thought of the strangled, animal sound he’d made. Pathetic.
Ienzo forced himself to his feet. He pulled back the sleeve of his jacket. There was a red mark where Riku had gripped him, and likely later a bruise; but he wasn’t significantly injured. Both of his hands were trembling uncontrollably. Get it together. Riku hadn’t meant to hurt him-- he’d probably taken that whole interaction to heart--
But the thought of going back to him right now and explaining, patiently, why he’d had that reaction, only made him feel nauseous. He tried to turn his mind back to the work, but he kept getting pulled and pulled into the basement, into an itchy achy helplessness.
Ienzo started walking, and walking, as if he could physically get away from the memory. He was so tense his teeth hurt, and his chest was hot and tight from his shallow breathing. He pulled the ascot from around his throat and undid the top buttons of his shirt, but it didn’t help ease the sensation much.
Breathe.
He found himself in the main library, which had once been beautiful but was now in serious disrepair. The collections were disorganized, the recessed lighting cracked and in need of new bulbs. Heartless had shattered several of the shadowboxes, and some of the paintings on the walls were torn. Ienzo reached up and brushed his fingers along the canvas of one. This portrait had evidently been of his adoptive great-grandmother, but anything resembling a face was ribbons of cloth and oil paint. He moved around a bit shamblingly, his body feeling heavy and strange now that the adrenaline was fading. He sank wearily into his favorite armchair, picked up his abandoned novel, and started to read.
It took hours for his heart to stop pounding.
A few weeks passed, tremulously. Perhaps a month, maybe longer; Ienzo’s concept of time was hazy at best. The winter got deeper, colder; they kept working with Kairi. While the light of her heart sustained her physical form, kept her warm and nourished and prevented atrophy, he still felt a stab of guilt that they were not finishing their examination faster. Sixteen years was a lot of memory, a lot to unpack and try to understand, and of course there was the curveball that she was a princess of heart. They all worked as long and as hard as they physically could, but it was still taking much, much too long.
Riku didn’t drop by as much, and Ienzo realized one day that he hadn’t been here since he’d gotten sick. Was this because of the way he’d acted? He knew he should apologize--
For what? An involuntary reaction?
Ienzo considered how he might feel if the opposite were true, if someone had woken him in the grips of a feverish nightmare. He should be glad he’d had little more than bruises, than a panic attack. He would’ve probably done much worse to his own attacker. (He kept a kitchen knife in his bedside table. It was the only thing that helped him feel safe with the nightmares.) He almost wrote Riku several times, but each time managed to find an excuse not to complete the note. A phone call, an urgent task to be completed. This shouldn’t bother him so much; he wasn’t the one at fault. Neither of them really were.
Finally, one snowy day, Riku came back. “I’m sorry for dropping by,” he said, his usual greeting. Ienzo noted with relief that he at least seemed to have adequate winter clothing. “Any… news?”
Ienzo cleared his throat a little. “Not much, I’m afraid. We’re making as much progress as we can.”
He took a few steps closer to Kairi. Ienzo recognized that glint in his eye; loneliness, and to a degree longing. It was the very same sort of look that his Nobody had preyed on.
He wondered if Riku spoke to his other friends.
“Do you…” Ienzo almost stopped himself. “Do you have a moment? To discuss something?” Even gave him an odd look, but Ienzo just glared at him.
“Uh--sure. Yeah. I’ve got a little time.”
“Excellent. I was wanting some tea anyway. Right then.” There was a kettle in the office; Ienzo switched it on. “What kind of tea would you like?”
“Uh--whatever you’re having, I guess. I don’t care.”
They sat down at Ansem’s old desk. Riku’s hair had gotten still longer, just barely brushing his shoulders, and he kept swatting it out of his eyes. It was more white than silver in this light, Ienzo thought, and looked fresh and fluffy, like it had just been washed. He thought of his own dirty, dry hair. For just a breath, he wondered what that hair might feel like under his fingertips.
What an odd thing to think about. He shook his head to brush away this thought.
“So what’s up?” Riku asked.
“I wanted to… talk about what happened, the last time we saw one another.”
He winced. “I tried to find you--”
“...But I avoided you.” He admitted this to his mug. “Truthfully, I must apolo--”
“I’m sorry,” Riku said at the same time. “I’m so sorry.”
Ienzo furrowed his brows. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You had a fever and I startled you when you were dead asleep.”
“I still hurt you. And--” He squinted. “Something just felt really… off.”
“...Which is what I wanted to talk about, because it’s clear that if we’re to have any functioning rapport…” He drummed his fingers on the table, trying to come up with a tactful way of saying this. You look like my murderer. He took a breath. “At Castle Oblivion, after we fought--”
Riku visibly tensed.
“It was, perhaps, only a few moments later that I--”
He dropped his eyes. “I know. Bad blood. Bad memories.”
“But you weren’t the one who… ultimately made it happen.”
Riku bit his lip. “I figured you might’ve… bled out. I don’t like thinking about it.”
“Of course you don’t,” he said softly. “But you recall… the replica?”
“Of me?” He frowned. “Um, yeah.”
“I’m going to say it very bluntly.” His heart was beating hard. “Axel had him kill me. I’d learned too much about the Organization’s coup.” The memory stabbed him, especially seated right across from him. But between the new hairstyle, and the few years’ of aging, Riku did not look much like the puppet anymore.
“Of course you panicked,” Riku said. “Of course. I’m sorry.”
“It is wholly embarrassing. I…” He cleared his throat. “For some reason that felt… necessary, in order to move on.”
“...Especially with me randomly poking my ugly mug in,” he said, shaking his head.
Not ugly, Ienzo thought, feeling a different flash of nerves. Perhaps that was part of why this was so unsettling.
“I’ll try to avoid cornering you,” he continued. “And, uh, grabbing.”
“It seems what happened was neither of our faults,” Ienzo said. “But I don’t want us to have to walk on eggshells around each other. I do enough of that as it is.”
A nervous smile flickered on his face. “You guys don’t get along?”
“It’s… a bit complicated.” Ienzo didn’t feel much like going into all that .
“Sounds like you could use a friend.”
Ienzo looked up. His expression was genuine, and if Ienzo was understanding correctly, pleading. Ienzo wondered again if Riku actually spent time with anyone. “...Perhaps I could.”
This smile was less hesitant.
“...And you could stop making up excuses to drop by.” He tried to say this kindly. “I imagine… it’s not easy, doing all this work by yourself.”
Riku’s grip on his mug loosened a bit. “To be completely honest…” He chuckled. “I… am bored out of my mind. When I said I was housesitting? I wasn’t being modest. That’s literally what I was asked to do.” Something honest crept into his tone.
Ienzo blinked. “...I see. Why don’t you go home, then? Spend time with your family?”
Evidently, this was the wrong question to ask: what little humor in Riku’s expression fell. “It feels… wrong, to go back without them,” he said softly. “When we were last home a few months ago… I… made a promise to myself that I would bring them home. I can’t… look their parents in the eye. It feels like my fault somehow.”
“I’m sure it isn’t.” He exhaled. “We will do our best to try and help you get back together.”
“I know. I know you’re all working hard, I didn’t mean to imply--”
“I know.” Ienzo smiled. “But let me do this for you. As friends.”
He nodded.
“Moreover… if you’re bored.” He cocked his head. “Aeleus and Dilan have their hands full doing repairs around the castle. How good are you with your hands?”
His eyebrows shot up, and Ienzo saw the almost desperate glimmer in his eye. “Actually pretty good,” he said. “I used to build stuff on the play island all the time.”
“Great. Then perhaps you’d be willing to help? Say, a day or so a week, or whatever would work best with your schedule? I know traveling back and forth must be annoying.”
“I’d hate to… be an inconvenience,” he said slowly.
“You’d be helping us ,” Ienzo said. “And that way, you don’t need to travel goodness-knows-how-far to pester me about Kairi.”
Riku flushed. “Ha… yeah, I guess so. Ah. I’ll check up on things in the castle and come back.”
“Great. So it’s a date.”
There was a long, pronounced silence,  Ienzo wondered if this was the wrong thing to say. His heart was fluttering hard again, the same way it had before, and he swallowed it down. This was… strange, and he wasn’t sure he liked how it felt.
Riku seemed nervous too. “Awesome. So. It’s a date.”
Ienzo cleared his throat. “I won’t hold you up any longer.”
“No, I should… go, so I can come back.” He stood.
“Safe travels,” Ienzo said, hearing the artificiality in his own voice. When Riku was gone, his heart was still pounding, beating hard in an insistent way he didn’t know how to read. He thought, involuntarily, of that hair again, of how it might feel.
Ienzo had a feeling he didn’t want to know.
---
On his way back to the Land of Departure, Riku felt... fuzzy. Nervous, jumpy. This was only amplified by the utter silence of the place. He paced, restlessly, trying to understand what it was he might be feeling. There seemed to be a lot to unpack.
He thought he’d killed Zexion the same way he’d killed Lexeaus. A blow to the spine, some internal damage. Zexion had been a mighty opponent, but not physically that strong. From the moment he’d first struck down Lexeaus, he’d tried not to think of the truth, the brutality, of what he’d done, that he’d essentially just killed a person. Knowing it had led to their direct humanity seemed… both a comfort, and an insult.
Also… the fact that Axel was capable of such brutality… having fought alongside Lea in the war, and seeing the awkward and charming way he acted with Kairi… it made him feel slightly ill.
But you did awful things under the influence of darkness too, the ever-present guilt reminded him. All the Heartless you summoned, and the things Maleficent told you to do with them. You probably killed people and didn’t even realize.
He sat down on his bed and looked out the window. Snow was falling in the Land of Departure. As a Nobody… hadn’t Zexion done the same? And Riku had done this all in the sake of… what… gathering power? Mining his “true potential”? Which was--?
Sitting here overthinking, apparently. The sooner he finished up these loose ends, the sooner he could return and do what Ienzo had asked. Maybe he could even talk to him more about this conundrum, and see if the Somebodies there felt the same way about the things they’d done in the past. Just because both of them had turned over a new leaf didn’t mean the past was forgiven, or forgotten.
He should probably try to get some sleep, too.
After tending to his few chores, Riku lay in bed, trying to switch off. At some point in the past he’d been able to fall asleep practically on command, but now the action seemed something of a labor, and his mind would spin and spin in any direction and on any memory until it was late enough to be considered early. Fighting Heartless, and training himself to physical exhaustion, made it easier , but not easy. He parsed that interaction out in his mind, thinking back to the expression on Ienzo’s face when Riku accidentally grabbed him. Ienzo must have thought of the moment when the puppet… did whatever the puppet did.
(And, Riku thought, if the puppet was a likeness of him, down to his personality at the time, was Riku capable of that kind of violence as well?)
He took a deep breath and let it out, trying to stop thinking about that. Instead, he found himself thinking about the way their conversation had ended. So it’s a date. He didn’t mean-- no, he just meant a place and a time, a date on a calendar. Why would he--
But Ienzo was so eloquent, it couldn’t just be a slip of the tongue. Right? Or perhaps it had? And if so, what did that mean?
The last thing Riku needed was for things to get more complicated. He needed Ienzo and the others to be able to help Kairi help Sora.
Still, the way his heart was beating… was new. And odd. And he thought of that moment during the Mark of Mastery exam, when Shiki had most likely been flirting with him. How he hadn’t felt anything at the time, wasn’t sure if he was supposed to--there was a lot of things going on that were far more important.
But now? When nothing was going on?
There was banter right before he got sick, too. And he’d felt the same jump, the same uncertainty. But he also bantered with Sora and Kairi all the time, and then he sometimes got nervous thinking of witty replies on the fly. But did it make him feel like this? And was this something Riku wanted to feel?
You’re putting way more into this than was there, he thought, shaking his head. What reason would he even have for doing something like that?
He shut his eyes, but the thoughts didn’t stop.
---
Riku was used to the flight between Radiant Garden and Land of Departure by now. He’d started calling it his “commute”, in moments of deeper loneliness. Commuting to see Kairi. He wondered what his life would look like if none of this had happened. He’d be wrapping up his last year of high school, he knew, getting ready for university or the greater world. Riku tried to imagine himself working a job: at a coffee shop, or as a waiter, or bagging groceries. Typing and typing at an office job. Much like when he was fifteen, the notion made him feel vaguely nauseous. But equally, he wasn’t sure of what would become his future now . His eighteenth birthday was some months away. Theoretical adulthood.
Well, he was a Keyblade master now, not that that seemed to mean much of anything. Would he… take on apprentices? Teach them? Would that be satisfying?
Sora and Kairi aren’t even home yet. Don’t get ahead of yourself. Maybe they would help him make sense of this mess. Yes, that was it. He thought of Kairi, her laugh. Riku, you’re such a downer sometimes, you know? And Sora, as long as it’s the three of us, we’ll be okay.
He wondered how pathetic it was to be having imaginary conversations with his best friends.
Riku landed in the outer recesses of Radiant Garden and started the now-familiar walk to the castle. It was always so cold here, so gloomy, now that winter had come over the city. Thankfully he’d actually been able to get a coat. He tugged his collar up a bit higher. He’d experienced a lot over the past two years or so, but he was still, at heart, an islander.
He wasn’t sure where exactly to go or what he had to do, so he went down to the lab. He couldn’t help but smile a little when he saw Kairi, even if she was completely unaware of his presence. He wondered for the millionth time what she was doing in there, what she was experiencing. How they all made numbers about it was beyond him.
“Ah--Riku. Back so soon, I see?” Even asked, his tone brisk and cool as usual.
“Uh--yeah, actually. Ienzo said you guys needed help with the… repairs, so I figured… I have some time--”
“We mustn’t take you from your duties,” Ansem said.
“No, you’re really not.” He forced a laugh. “This is helpful, actually.” He looked around. “So… uh… where is he?”
“He had some questions about some code and thought Cid might be able to help,” Even said.
“...Questions?”
“There are some anomalies in her heart, recently. We’re fairly certain it’s the differences in structure due to her nature as princess of heart, but it’s always good to… seek a second opinion.” Ansem smiled; Even scowled.
Riku frowned. “Is she okay?”
“As far as we can tell, yes,” Even said. “The sleep isn’t physically affecting her in the slightest--other than the obvious.”
He walked over to her and adjusted the blanket draped over her. “It’s a little cold over here. Can you turn down the AC?”
“We need it to keep the machines--” Even began, but Ansem patted Riku’s shoulder gently.
“I’ll bring in a space heater for her,” he said.
“Thank you.” He watched her breathe for a moment. “So… what should I--”
“I believe Aeleus is painting near the library. Do you know where that is?”
Riku swallowed, suddenly finding his mouth very dry. “Yes. I remember.”
He very nearly left then. He’d only seen Aeleus briefly in passing a few times coming and going, and the man never said much other than to curtly nod at him. While he now knew he hadn’t felled Zexion… well. He was certain he’d finished the job with Lexeaus.
What do you say to someone you’ve killed?
Maybe start with sorry, he imagined Kairi telling him.
Right. It would be… a good idea to not be on tenterhooks here. Especially if he were going to be helping out. If it weren’t for this, he would still be sitting in that castle, bored out of his mind. This was something good, constructive. It was good.
He took a deep breath.
Seeing the deterioration in this castle, Riku felt another stab of guilt. Some of this destruction had been here when he’d arrived, but some of it had come from his own practice trying to get the Heartless to do his bidding. He brushed his fingers across a torn painting, wondering what had happened to the person who made it.
Well. At least he could quite literally undo some of the damage.
He saw Aeleus on a ladder towards the end of the hallway, very carefully trying to paint over a new patch in the ceiling. Riku took a deep breath. He didn’t want to startle Aeleus either. “Hi there,” he called.
He looked over.
“So, uh.” He cleared his throat. “I’m here to… help? If I can?”
“Ienzo told me you were interested in helping do some repairs, yes.”
“Well. Uh. Could I do anything?”
He considered Riku. His expression was nearly impossible to read. “That can of green. If you want to start going over where I whitewashed. You can use the roller. Prime it first.”
“...Thanks.” He went over to the area that Aeleus had gestured to. There had once been wallpaper here, but it had been removed, and the holes and cracks beneath repaired with plaster. Riku poured some of the primer into a pan and got to it. He was glad that his braces couldn’t get stained; he saw that very quickly this could get messy.
For what felt like an eternity, but was maybe only an hour or two, he and Aeleus painted in silence, and the only audible sound was the dipping and rolling of the brush and roller. Riku wasn’t sure if he was imagining the tension in the air or not. He reached up to swat the hair out of his eyes and inadvertently smeared paint on his face. “...Ugh.”
“...You might want to do something about that,” Aeleus said. He took a clean bandanna out of his pocket and handed it to him.
“Thanks.” His hair was at that awkward in-between length that was too short to tie up but too long to feel manageable loose. He could cut it, he knew, and go back to the way he’d looked before, but the spikes reminded him too much of Sora. Riku looked down at the smear of paint on the cloth. Just say sorry. “Listen,” he began. “I just… wanted to say sorry. For everything.”
Aeleus set his brush down on top of the can and turned to face Riku more fully. “What do you have to apologize for?”
He blinked. He didn’t want to have to say it. “...You know. Castle Oblivion. Everything… that happened.”
Aeleus looked into the middle distance for a moment. “You don’t owe me an apology,” he said, in a low voice. “Rather… the other way around. Don’t you think?”
Riku shook his head slowly. “Ienzo said something similar.”
“We… treated you terribly. Tried to use you. Am I supposed to be mad that you fought back?”
“But I…” He couldn’t bring himself to say “killed you.”
“...Which is part of the reason I am here, and working to be better, instead of continuing to do evil in that Organization’s name.” He seemed to be smiling just the slightest.
“It’s not like any of us knew about the reformation at the time--”
“We needed to be stopped,” Aeleus said shortly. “Neither of us blame you, Riku.”
“Do you think you… still would be with the Organization, if your Nobody had survived?”
Aeleus thought about it. “That depends entirely on whether or not Vexen and Zexion survived as well.”
Riku cocked his head. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not sure that “friends” is the right term to use,” he said. “But the three of us… well. Even and I raised Ienzo from when he was a boy. Even with our true bonds severed by the lack of a heart, there was enough of a relationship there for me to… make their wellbeing my priority. If they had survived and turned back to the Organization, I would’ve too. But if they’d have passed on, and I survived, I might have… left. But either way…” He spread his large hands. “We all perished, but we are all human now.”
“What does that… feel like?”
Aeleus’s eyebrows shot up.
“Sorry. I just… I’m curious.”
He thought for another long moment. “It is both so strange and so natural,” he said. “The rush of emotion… feels as if it is so strong. There is a lot of guilt. But I feel more… me, than I thought I would, in those rare moments I considered Xemnas’s fake goal of giving us hearts.”
“More like Lexeaus, you mean?”
“We were Nobodies for just under ten years. I was not much older than Ienzo is now when it happened. As the years passed… my human self seemed soft, weak, and what he felt… unnecessary and boorish. But to have those feelings back… well. I realize that humanity is different than what I thought. There is strength to it that the darkness and the nothing couldn’t provide.”
“I think I understand,” Riku said. My friends are my power! He remembered. “Thanks for that.” He breathed the taste of paint. “Do you still feel the darkness?” He didn’t expect an answer.
Aeleus held his chin up, just a little. “I do,” he admitted, “but I know its price. And I intend to keep it at bay.”
Riku nodded. “Yeah. I know how that is.”
“...I think all of us here do.” He climbed back up the ladder and picked up his brush. “Might I suggest bobby pins? Ienzo finds them useful.”
“...You’re probably right.”
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