#I’m incredibly drunk sorry y’all

[scramratz]

They need to turn alcohol into pills that don’t fuck up your liver cuz the only thing that makes me feel like a normal human is this patron fr

[wife-of-all-dilfs]

the five stages | f. odair

masterlist

summary: a journey back to a golden period of time of polaroid pictures, white knitted sweaters, and lively sea-green eyes. why? because in the present, those same pair of eyes are ruthlessly unrelenting and you have no other chance of their escape.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: heavy angst, vomiting, implied smut, depression, maggots, hallucinations, relieving fluff, mild horror. I don’t want to spoil the story too much, so I won’t be adding any more warnings, sorry y’all. this could be very triggering so please read at your own discretion. some descriptions are quite graphic!

notes: I’m super proud of this one—it’s sorta based off “little talks” by of monsters and men and “on the nature of daylight” by max richer. this fic probably won’t get many views, so I’ll be incredibly grateful for any—if any at all—type of engagement! <33

word count: 8k

The bedroom was cold; dark; empty. Empty even though I still resided in it.

My alarm had gone off two hours ago, yet I hadn’t moved an inch. When I finally turned my head to the side, I found that the space beside me was vacant. Cold; dark; empty—I reached out my hand anyway.

Thirty minutes passed before I wrestled myself out of bed and started making breakfast downstairs. The otherwise warm and flavourful plate of fruit-filled yoghurt and scrambled eggs on toast left my mouth feeling dry and my throat lodged.

It used to be one of my favourite meals. At least, when he was around.

Dishes were piled in the sink, dirty and untouched. I sat on the couch, pondering whether today was the day I would finally get to cleaning them. It wasn’t. I couldn’t. We always did that together. I wondered—if I left them in the sink long enough, would he return? Even just for five minutes to help me put them away? One month and seventeen days had passed, and yet I still entertained this thought religiously.

I wasted an hour running circles round the same contemplations before deciding fresh air, as cliché as it was, might do me some good.

Grey clouds concealed the sun’s warm golden light when I stepped outside, but that was fine—I didn’t like anything golden anymore. But he would want me to leave the house at least once a day, so that’s what I would do. I would go down to the beach beside our—my house and feel the sand collect between my toes as I walked to the water’s edge.

But wasn’t that where he was when it happened? Wasn’t he in water? Didn’t those things pile on top of him? Didn’t they sink their fangs into his neck and tear at his flesh until he was blown to…

Bits of egg, yoghurt and stomach bile sat at my feet. My legs buckled, and I collapsed to the ground in a sandy, tear-stricken heap. Since my lower body had refused to cooperate any longer, it took me until midday to crawl back up the dune and to my front doorstep.

Fuck. I needed to rest.

“I need you to rest, sweetheart.”

“I told you, I’m fine,” I whined. “I’m not sick.”

Finnick placed a bucket on the ground beside the bed. The room smelled of lemon disinfectant—a joy I often found in being sick… That is, if I were sick, which I was not. I must have drunk spoiled milk or eaten something bad during breakfast. Nevertheless, Finnick was not having it.

“You’re throwing up everything you manage to get down, and you’re shivering like it’s the middle of winter,” he said adamantly, tucking the comforter up to my chest. “It’s summer, and you’re very much not fine.”

I sat up, ready to heatedly debate the subject, but the room began swirling, and my ears were hissing like a staticky television channel without a signal. A quiet whimper buzzed in my throat as I hunched forward. Damn him, I was sick.

The mattress dipped as Finnick sat beside me. His hand was on my back, rubbing it soothingly as he used his other hand to tuck away the curtain of hair concealing my face. I huffed, half in annoyance, half in an attempt to suppress the nausea rising in my throat, and then sunk back against the pillows.

“Not sick, she says,” he jested, smiling down at me. I rolled my eyes, though unable to hide the weak, betraying smile creeping across my lips. “Close your eyes, sweetheart,” he said, a gentle command. “I’ll see you when you fall asleep.”

The wooden flooring welcomed me with hard, cold arms as I hauled my sandy body through the front door. Images of fangs, bloody flesh, and panicked sea-green eyes flooded my mind.

More breakfast, more bile. No lemon disinfectant.

My knees were folded beneath my body; my body was hunched over my knees. I was sobbing now, so hard that I threw up again (was there even anything left in my stomach at this point?), creating a thick puddle of vomit and tears beneath me. Cries and gasps for air bounced around the house. To call me a mess would be an understatement. I was a disaster. A disaster wrapped up in an unmendable tragedy with a ragged, threadbare ribbon barely holding me together.

And in case I wasn’t aware of this fact, the floorboards were so shiny that they mirrored a reflection of myself. My hair was a being of its own, all wild and unkempt, and my face was another story entirely—a red, blotchy thing I wasn’t too interested in delving into.

But the most unsettling aspect had nothing to do with me, it was that there was someone else in the reflection. Two green balls of light were glowing above my head.

Dishevelled golden hair…

Dimpled cheeks…

My forehead was pressed to the floor as I screamed.

“I don’t want to make you sick as well,” I said, contrarily enjoying the feeling of Finnick’s skin warm against mine, hot blood flowing through his veins.

A day had passed since I first became unwell, and the sickness had continued to wreak havoc inside me.

We were both under the thick covers, our limbs tangled together as he held me atop his chest. (my body didn’t register the scorching summer temperatures. I actually felt as though my core temperature was a few degrees below freezing. Meanwhile, Finnick was characteristically toasty warm. It was perfect for me, but not so much for him, evident in the beads of sweat collecting on his forehead. Nevertheless, he made no complaints).

My body rose and fell with each breath he took. I was trying to inhale whenever he exhaled in a weak attempt to prevent the festering sickness in my body from entering his, and though it was a futile gesture, I did it anyway.

“In sickness and health, remember?” he said.

I smiled. “We’re not even married.”

“Yet, you mean,” he countered. “I plan on spending the rest of my life with you, sweetheart. You know that.”

My heart fluttered at the thought of spending an entire lifetime with him—waking up in each other’s embrace each morning, the warm sunlight peeking through the blinds of our bedroom; Finnick calling me “Mrs. Odair” or “My wife” at every opportunity because doing so made us both giggle like two moronic, love-struck teenagers; and being unable to prevent the deep smile lines on both our cheeks as we age, a constant display of our perpetual happiness.

“Sixty more years of having and holding you,” he continued with a gentle musing in his tone. “For better or for worse... For richer or for poorer.” He then stroked the side of my face and brushed away the sweaty strands of hair sticking to my forehead. “In sickness and in health…”

“…Until death do us part,” I finished, my voice slow with fatigue.

Two fingers sat beneath my chin and tilted my head upward. My eyes connected with Finnick’s. They were soft. Heartfelt.

“Not even then. I’ll love you beyond the grave,” he murmured. Then his lips were slowly curving into a pensive smile. “When we’re both ghosts and haunting the next owners of this house.”

I was now smiling, too. “I’d hoped you would say something like that.”

How could he lie like that? There was no we. There were no next owners. There was only me, alive and alone in a comatose house. And mind you, I was sane enough to know that it wasn’t actually his ghost haunting me, though I wish I weren’t because having that knowledge was even worse. It meant he was truly erased from existence.

“Go away,” I whispered to the reflection on the floor.

He didn’t. His vacant green eyes kept staring down at my crumpled figure.

I shot off the floor and spun around, hot tears streaming down my face. “Go away!” His face remained expressionless. He looked like himself, only colder. “You said sixty more years! You said we’d be together!” I mindlessly picked up and flung a small picture frame at him, only for it to pass through his body and shatter on the floor behind him. “Why did you lie to me?!” My voice was frayed with fury, though underlined with grief.

He said nothing, did nothing. All he did was watch.

My legs buckled, and I was on the floor again. I was whispering, half-sobbing, the same question over and over until the words slurred together. “Why’d you lie? Why’d y’lie?” The only time I stopped was when my tongue grew too heavy to move anymore.

To my surprise, he eventually came and sat beside me, remaining cold and silent—as I too had become.

Glass fragments from the picture frame were scattered across the floorboards. The photo within had fallen out and, ironically, drifted towards me. I didn’t bother acknowledging him as I moved onto my hands and knees and began crawling forward—my palms slicing open and blood seeping out—until the photo was in my hands. My shins had granules of glass pricking into them, but I couldn’t feel the pain; all I could do was stare at the memory in my hands.

The picture had been taken in District Thirteen, a day before he signed up for… the mission.

I was drifting in and out of sleep when a sudden bright flash lit up my eyelids.

“Oops.”

Heavy eyes fluttering open, I was met with a small camera pointing down at me, which was being held up by a lengthy muscular arm, which was connected to an even more muscular and broad shoulder, which was connected to—okay, sorry, I think you get it.

“Finnick!” I shrieked, pulling the covers over my naked figure.

He laughed, the vibrations rumbling deep within his chest, beneath my ear. A soft whirring sound accompanied the polaroid sliding out of the camera, its black film hiding the doubtless embarrassing picture beneath. He placed the film on the sheets beside him, letting the photo develop in darkness.

“I was supposed to cover the flash,” he said, still chuckling.

I rubbed my eyes, which were twinkling with little sparkles of light. “I think you blinded me.”

“Lucky you,” he jested. “You’re finally free from my repulsive exterior.”

I started to reach for the picture beside him—“You’re an idiot”—but then he was rolling us over until his arms were pillared on either side of my head and he was hovering above me.

His hair was a mess, a testament to the night before (and very early hours of the morning), and he was sporting a beautiful, lazy grin. “Yeah? Well, you’re engaged to an idiot,” he said, tilting his head in an arrogant manner. “So what does that make you?”

The sea-glass ring hugging my finger gleamed in the lamp’s dull light as I reached out to touch his face, my fingertips brushing along the edges of his pronounced jawline. Tangled strands of hair and a beaming smile were reflecting back at me in his eyes. No one had ever loved anyone as much as I loved Finnick—disregarding the one exception that was staring down at me.

“Blinded by love,” I whispered.

Brief yet poignant emotion trickled through his features, his eyes. Then, like a flick of a switch, he covered it up and lowered his face into my neck, groaning the words, “So corny.”

My fingers were tangled in his hair, holding him close to me. “Liar,” I laughed. “You loved it.”

“I love you, which is why I put up with your corniness,” he murmured into my skin.

Even after all this time, my heart still leapt whenever he said those three words, even when he was being a jerk about it. I kissed the top of his head. “I love you, too.”

We laid like this for a short while longer—Finnick keeping his face buried in the warmth of my neck, his arms curled beneath my body; me playing with the golden waves of his hair that were somehow softer than my own. He was so heavy on top of me that it was starting to become difficult to breathe, but in no universe would I ever tell him to get off. It was a blissful sort of suffocation.

A sort anyone would snap a picture of just to keep as a reminder of how beautiful it feels to be smothered with love. With that being said, the picture that lay awaiting beside me was brought back to mind.

“Oh no,” I moaned, picking it up and taking a short glance at the developed photo. I covered my face with my hands, repeating the words, “Oh no.”

The photo was plucked from my fingers, and Finnick began humming contentedly to himself.

In the photo, my face had been nuzzled into his bare, muscular chest, eyes closed in sleep-drunken serenity, hair thrown over my shoulder and spilling across the pillow. My hand rested on his contoured stomach with just enough of my upper arm and low light to conceal my breasts. Finnick had a delicate hand draped over my waist. He was gazing down at me with a smile that was just… full of pure love.

I had to admit—it was a beautiful picture. Despite my initial disapproval.

“Beautiful,” I heard him echo my thoughts, his eyes still scanning the photo. Then his brows furrowed, and his head slightly inched forward as though he had just noticed something peculiar in the picture. “Oh, and you are too, I guess.”

My head tilted back against the pillow with an abrupt laugh. I shook my head, looking back at him. “I hate you.”

“Liar,” he said, leaning in closer.

His lips were on mine for what must have been the millionth time in the past few hours. The bedside clock announced that breakfast was soon approaching, though it was clear neither of us would make an appearance within the next hour (or two).

“You love me,” he whispered as he slid inside me.

And I did.

I really did.

The muscles in my cheeks were straining due to how hard I was smiling.

It wasn’t my idea to keep a picture of us half-naked in the entryway of our home. He always was a bit unusual like that. Completely unashamed of who he was and how he acted. Sometimes a little too boisterously, but that’s what I loved so much about him—how confident he was in his love for me, so much so that nothing else mattered, no one else’s opinion.

God, I love him so much.

Love…?

Wait.

That’s not right.

Shouldn’t it be “loved”?

And why was I smiling? I didn’t have anything to smile about anymore. He was gone. Our wedding never occurred. Our faces never wrinkled with smile lines. Our clasped hands never weathered with age. He was gone.

The polaroid slipped from between my fingers. My hands were covered in glass and blood, blood that had painted a dark red splotch in the middle of the shiny film. Figures.

After a short while of staring blankly at the scattered debris decorating the floor, I finally found it in myself to start climbing back onto my feet. My straightened legs wobbled and ached beneath me with the little energy I had. That’s what happens when you can barely stomach food anymore: no energy, always sleeping, always swamped by nightmares or bittersweet memories—at this point, they were one and the same.

Not a strand of gold or a fleck of green was in sight when I glanced over my shoulder. For now, at least. He liked making an appearance once or twice a day.

Pieces of glass crunched beneath my bare, stinging feet as I made for the stairwell. A mess for another day, I reasoned. Just like the dishes. Sticky red footprints stamped each wooden step I ascended, growing less prominent as I reached the second floor.

After taking a right down a short hallway, the encompassing walls littered with magnificent seashells and dried ocean flora, I turned the knob to the furthest room and entered. The floor was landscaped with mountains of clothes which drenched the room in a familiar, all-consuming smell. The scent kind of reminded me of receiving a warm hug, albeit from someone you know you should let go of in more ways than one.

His hair, golden and tousled, caught my eye as I passed the wall of string-hung polaroids in our… sorry, my bedroom. His smile was all dimpled and brilliant, and he had his tanned arms wrapped around my middle. Just moments after the picture was taken, he had tackled me into the water and rightfully earned a smack on the back of the head. In turn, he did it again.

But before that, we were both looking into the camera with the most joyful expressions—huge grins, bright eyes. Frozen in time.

I never let myself look too long at that picture anymore. And I never, ever looked into his eyes. Green used to be my favourite colour. I didn’t have a favourite colour anymore. It was safe to say I didn’t have a favourite anything anymore; everything favourable was a reminder of him.

I picked up a white knitted sweater off the ground and tugged it over my head, staining it with splotches of dark red. Knowing him, he would wear it regardless—whatever was mine, was also his, and was equally the same in reverse, even things as grotesque as blood.

Well, he would have worn it, I should have said.

The sweater had been specifically tailored for him. I remembered how the soft sleeves hugged his arms so well that every fluid curve of his biceps was visible, similar to a building wave before it crested. On me, the sleeves swallowed my arms whole, which I liked to think in their own unique way had also been unintentionally tailored for me, like someone out there knew one day I would need some way to drown in him when he was gone.

Finnick’s fingers tugged at the silk ribbons, unwrapping the opulent gift box that sat on our dining table. Capitol devotees would send extravagant parcels weekly, turning up in abundance on our doorstep. Sometimes Finnick didn’t even bother opening them; sometimes we opened them together just to get a good laugh out of whatever ridiculous item was inside.

He never, though, opened the perfume-scented letters marked with lipstick stains.

“Oh,” I said in surprise as he lifted the lid. Inside was a folded piece of fabric, knitted and cream-white and intricate, though still simple. It was soft to the touch; thick enough to retain warmth. I held it up with two hands, admiring the hand-sewed threads of cotton. Whoever’s handiwork this was, it was nothing to laugh at.

Holding it up to Finnick’s torso, I smiled and said, “Try it on.”

“What?” He shook his head and smiled quizzically. “No.”

“Yes. I think it will look good on you.” I pressed it further against him with conviction. “Try it on.”

He tilted his head and exhaled deeply through his nose, giving me a begrudging, squinty-eyed look. From that, I already knew I had won him over, and watched as he snatched the sweater from my grasp and tugged his shirt off with one hand. I averted my eyes, feeling the tips of my ears flush with heat—we’d been together for over a year now; you would think I’d have grown accustomed to seeing him shirtless.

His head slipped through the neckline and he pulled the sweater down his body. I was right. It looked really good on him. Perfect, actually. The measurements were so precise that the fabric sloped off his shoulders like a compact mountain of snow. The thick-knitted collar dipped into a deep, uneven neckline that partly revealed his chest and made his neck look like a strong, contoured pillar. He looked at me expectantly, as though to ask, “Well?”

“It makes your neck and shoulders look really nice,” I blurted out, instantly cringing inside.

His expression contorted into something of amusement and surprise as he took a slow step towards me. “My neck and shoulders, huh?” he said, grinning devilishly. Oh, now I’d done it. Leave it to me to rocket Finnick Odair’s already atmospheric ego. “Anything else?”

I began backing away, but his prowling strides were so long that the space between us only shortened. When my backside hit the edge of the dining table, I knew I was done for.

“You know,” I began, avoiding his unrelenting stare. “I think it was just a momentary lapse of judgement.” He was closing in now, placing his hands on either side of my body to trap me in place. “It—It actually looks terrible on you,” I said, feigning sincerity and adding a little nod to help further my case.

His eyelids drooped as he gazed down at me, lips curving into that seductive smirk he had mastered long ago. “No takebacks,” he purred, voice low and gravelly. Dear God, I could only pray I wasn’t going to melt into a puddle on the floor. He always did this—took every opportunity to flirt and render me a stuttering, bashful mess. It was his favourite game to play. “This is now my new favourite shirt. All thanks to you, sweetheart.”

But, given the right timing and ever-wavering amount of confidence, I liked to play too.

I inhaled deeply, hoping my voice wouldn’t betray me. “Maybe you should take it off then,” I said, cocking my head to the side. “So you don’t ruin it.”

His mischievous expression revealed his next words before he even spoke them. “Maybe I will,” he said, and then he was tugging his sweater over his head, and I was tearing off my own. As his hands slipped beneath my thighs and lifted me onto our dining table, I prayed the wooden legs wouldn’t collapse under the weight of our next actions.

My fingertips ran over the soft, rippling patterns on the knitted sleeves, my arms crossed in a self-soothing manner. After that day, the sweater had become a sort of good luck charm—or so we agreed upon as we lay panting on the tabletop. He started wearing it to a multitude of events and parties in the Capitol (basically any place in which he needed a pick-me-up, a reminder of what he had to come home to, who he had to come home to).

He even wore it the day we got engaged.

So many happy memories were associated with this one white sweater. So many times, those cloud-soft sleeves were wrapped around my body, suffocating me in the scent of him—if nothing else, at least that remained.

The last time he had worn it was the day of the Reaping for the Quarter Quell; the last time our lives were ever semi-normal. I had fought tooth and nail to reach him before he was escorted onto the train, despite being ordered, “No goodbyes,” by one of the Peacekeepers. In modest terms, I had significantly decreased his chances of reproduction.

When I reached Finnick, he had brought me into a kiss so harsh and fervent that my lips were bruised the next day. He then yanked off his sweater, leaving his upper body completely exposed to everyone around us in complete disregard for his trauma-induced fear of doing so, and shoved it into my hands.

I had just stood there frozen in bewilderment, watching as he called out, “I love you, sweetheart!” Two Peacekeepers were forcing him onto the train, but he too fought for the last word. “Don’t forget—I’m always with you!”

That statement had never been truer than it was now. For better or for worse.

My vision unblurred as I returned to reality. Dismal, grey light was peeking through the shutters that formed the balcony doors, the daylight hours seeming to tick away at a snail’s pace. I used to wish for the days to be longer, for time to move slower, so I could savour the moments I had of happiness and sunlight which used to be plentiful.

Why do wishes only come true when you grow to desire nothing but the opposite?

Slothfully, I crawled onto the unmade king-size bed, my limbs crumpling and balling to my chest as the side of my head hit the pillow. The imprint on the mattress beneath my body didn’t match my own. It was much larger and broader. How long would it take for the springs to forget his body weight and recoil back into place as though he never existed at all?

I inhaled the sweater’s scent with every breath I took (and I tried not to wonder how long it would take for his scent to disappear as well) and hugged my arms around my waist. No pain was worse than the fleeting moments I forgot the embrace was my own and not his.

Hours passed, and so did the evening. A beautiful orange sunset hadn’t slipped through the shutter’s cracks because the clouds never dissipated. Night-time brought no consolation either. Not even the stars or moon made an appearance. Everything that once gave me a shred of optimism was hidden behind a veil of gloom.

I knew tomorrow wouldn’t be any different—the weather, my mood, his absence. Because the end of autumn was closing in, and the days were becoming bleaker. Trees would start shedding their leaves; the leaves would start to die.

I hoped I would too.

I was still curled up on my side, my body aching with stiffness, when my face began scrunching into this ugly, twisted mess of despair. My tears were slow yet heavy, synonymous with the day I had incurred.

But then something strange happened.

Someone called my name.

No. That couldn’t be right. I was the only one who occupied a house in the Victor’s Village; the others had either relocated after the war or were… dead.

But there it was again—my name, distant and eerie, yet spoken with a tone people often used to beckon over and aid a frightened, injured animal. My vision blurred, both from tears and concentration on the voice.

“Hey.”

I couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment my surroundings transformed into a kitchen, just that they had and that I was no longer in my bed but standing upright.

Ahead of me, in the distance, the sun was beating down on the crystalline water, and white frothy waves were cresting on the smooth, golden sand. It was a perfect day; not a cloud was in sight. The only blemish that smeared the blue sky was the reflection staring back at me from the window I gazed out of.

In my hands was a soup bowl and a damp dishrag.

“Sweetheart?” That once distant voice, concerned and beckoning, was standing right beside me.

Blinking, I snapped out of my daze and turned away from the window.

He stood tall beside me, despite being half hunched over the kitchen sink and scrubbing the last of the few dirty dishes stacked neatly on the bench top. His head was turned towards me, his enamoured sea-green eyes peering into my own as though he was searching behind them for what troubled me.

“Hey,” he spoke softly, standing up straight. His touch was warm and gentle as he reached for my hand, leaving soapy bubbles on my palm and fingers. “Where’d you go?”

Three odd things seemed to occur at once: first, I flinched away from his touch, overwhelmed by its paradoxical unfamiliar familiarity; second, I felt an inexpressible relief from seeing him standing before me, seeing his cheeks painted with a soft pink hue as though blood-red roses were hidden just beneath his skin.

The third was an onset of disorientation. I couldn’t tell you why I felt disorientated standing in my own kitchen with the love of my life, just, simply, that I did. There was an answer—it was close by, right under my nose, yet unreachable. We did this every day, didn’t we? We would eat meals together and then wash up together. So, why did I feel so unsettled?

I shook my head, dispelling the confusion that muddled my brain. “Sorry,” I whispered. “I don’t know what happened.” I laughed uneasily, without a hint of mirth.

He laughed too, not to poke fun or because he found my obvious turmoil amusing, but rather to comfort me, so I would feel less alone in my unease. “It’s alright,” he said gently.

Neither of us addressed what had happened; we simply resumed our routine of washing and drying in domestic silence. And as seconds turned to minutes, and as the sky remained sunny, I found myself smiling. All that mattered was that he was standing beside me and that the sun was beaming in the sky. So, I kept smiling.

After I finished drying the last dish, we began placing the plates, bowls, and an abundance of cutlery in their assigned drawers and cupboards, weaving past each other and giggling anytime we got in one another’s path. I was carrying a stack of white plates, eyeing the high cupboard they needed to go in, but before I could even attempt straining onto my toes, the plates were out of my hands and taken into another much larger pair.

The smell of sea salt and expensive cologne wafted from behind me as he towered over my shorter frame and placed the plates in the cupboard.

“I could have done that,” I said, smiling as I turned around to face him.

He had a playful glint in his eye. “Yeah, right. What are you, like, four feet tall?” he joked.

It was an extreme exaggeration since I was no way near that height, but I suppose everyone was miniature in comparison to him, being over six feet tall and all. I feigned open-mouthed offence, to which he gave the side of my head a quick, playful kiss of apology.

He then leaned against the counter with crossed arms. “Plus, when was the last time you actually put these dishes away? I’m surprised you even remember where they go.” He was grinning at me in a teasing manner, but every ounce of humour had drained from my body.

My eyes drifted to the floor.

Well, that was the question, wasn’t it—when was the last time I put the dishes away?

I couldn’t remember. In fact, I couldn’t remember what had happened this morning or the day before. Hell, I couldn’t even remember what we were doing before the dishes.

To be standing in a room, in a place you call home, and have a sense that nothing is in its right place, even though that is where everything has always been, is a disconcerting feeling beyond belief. To be perplexed by your own state of being—your existence—is even worse. I could almost describe it as a nauseating bout of vertigo.

My hands found the counter’s edge behind me, and I exhaled a shaky breath.

He stepped in front of me, one large and gentle hand reaching up to cup my jaw. “Are you okay?” he asked, his forehead wrinkling with shallow worry lines as he inspected my face. I hated that. I hated that I worried him so much. Sure, partners were supposed to lean on each other for support in a relationship (as he too did with me when needed), but I always felt so guilty doing so. Hadn’t he already suffered enough… pain in his lifetime? Who was I to cause him any more?

A sunbeam suffused the room, oozing across his face. The illumination lightened his eyes into a refreshing mint green, though, in contradiction, unearthed a pain that had been previously been concealed. Pain from what, I wasn’t sure. From concern regarding my unusual behaviour? Maybe a thought that was troubling him? Or perhaps he too was enduring a spell of confusion and had an inexplicable feeling that he was out of place.

Whatever his pain regarded, seeing it had rattled the deepest structures in which held my mind together.

It was then that I suddenly realised I hadn’t answered his question, so I gave him a wan “I’m-not-too-sure-myself” smile and then began slinking back to the sink window.

He followed behind me. I could feel him staring into the back of my head, could feel his brows draw together and his lips pull into a tight line, patiently waiting for a further explanation, though I wasn’t sure I could offer him one.

I hadn’t noticed before, but on the windowsill was a small picture frame containing a polaroid picture of us in bed—I was lying on his chest, half-naked and asleep, and he was looking down at me, smiling fondly yet with a sort of mischievous knowability. Running down the middle of the protective glass was a small, jagged crack.

I plucked the frame from the windowsill, inspecting the picture in my two hands. It seemed to uncover a place in my mind—once clouded by disorientation—I’d forgotten. Whether this place was real or imaginary was beyond me, but the fear I felt upon its recollection was incandescently genuine.

“Do you think,” I spoke tentatively, “people can have nightmares while they’re wide awake?” My thumb ran over the crack.

I might have heard him inhale a quiet, sharp breath, but it also could have just been the waves breaking on the distant shore. “Like a flashback?” he asked, an unidentifiable unease in his tone.

“No, not exactly.” I searched my brain for the right words, the right way to tell him how I was feeling, but it was difficult when I could only conjure vague fragments. And it was all I could do to tell it to him elliptically, as I knew saying the words in any other manner would shatter my heart.

“I had this vision,” I began, my words apprehensively staccato, “where I was somewhere else.” My eyes flickered over the picture. “Somewhere… bad. Everything was grey and heavy, and I was alone. Sometimes you were there, but you—you weren’t really you anymore.” I paused and looked up to find him staring at me in the reflection of the window. He looked pained; it was then suddenly hard to recollect a time when he didn’t. My throat started to constrict. “You were gone and…” my voice quietened to a broken wisp of wind, “you were haunting me.”

The room was silent.

He said nothing in response

The transparency of his reflection in the glass was so familiar—so haunting—and it was like another forgotten matter had been dredged from the depths of my mind. Stinging tears brimmed my waterline, and, due to my inability to bear the sight of his translucent appearance, I forced myself to turn around.

I glanced up at him, smiling weakly as I whispered, “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head as if my need to apologise was nonsensical (even I was unsure of what I was apologising for), and he then pulled me into a tight embrace. His chin rested atop my head; my face was buried in his chest, and his arms held me like I was some dilapidated structure that relied on his support to remain upright. Part of me knew this sentiment was correct.

I expected his next words to be ones of consolation or reassurance, maybe an “I’m right here, sweetheart” or an “I’ll never leave you”. Instead, I felt his head turn and heard him say, “Think it’s going to storm?”

With a sniffle, I turned my head towards the window. The arms wrapped around my body tightened as if he somehow knew I would need the extra support. Because when I saw the wall of dark, opaque clouds rolling through the sky towards us, an unshakeable dread zapped through my heart.

My hands clung to the fabric of his cream-white sweater, which then brought to my attention that an inexplicable tingling sensation was spreading down the fingers of my right hand, numbing them.

Lightning flashed on the horizon, and the once serene waves began cresting violently on the shoreline. The dread grew.

Before my attention could drift too far, my name was called again.

I looked up to find those green eyes gazing down at me, swelling with tears. He was crying. Why was he crying? And why was his hair wet? His usually golden strands had darkened to a deep brown and were drenched with cold water that dripped onto my cheeks, and his hair was swept haphazardly across his forehead, a reflection of someone who had just endured an intense storm or had just been fighting for his life against a swarm of—of—

No.

My own eyes began to burn.

“It’s killing me to see you this way,” he spoke, every second word breaking and wavering in volume.

The world seemed to tilt on an axis. Return did the disorientation, ravaging my mind more violently now. “What do you”—My chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths—“What? What do you mean?” My lower lip was quivering, and my eyebrows were scrunched together in confusion. His words replayed in my head: It’s killing me to see you this way.

It’s killing me.

His hair was dripping—no longer with water, but with a thick, red substance that both dripped down and clotted on his skin. He didn’t look pained anymore; he looked like he was in pain.

It’s killing me.

But that can’t be right, can it?

It’s killing me.

Why?

It’s killing me.

Becausemy Finnickwas already dead.

I staggered backwards and out of his, no, this imposter’s arms. He stared at me as blood streamed down his forehead, pouring over his eyelashes and down his cheeks. I was going to be sick. This had to be some sort of cruel joke, a newly invented punishment from Snow. But that wasn’t right either: Snow was dead too.

“F…Fi…” I tried saying his name, my top teeth prodding the inside of my bottom lip, but I couldn’t make a sound.

He took a step towards me, and I almost stumbled onto the floor. “Remember what I told you?” he asked, though it sounded more like an urge.

I frantically shook my head. No, I didn’t remember. I didn’t want to remember anything.

Something dark and mountainous appeared in my peripheral vision, and an odious smell singed my nostrils. My head snapped to the left. Stacks upon stacks of plates and bowls mounded the kitchen sink, each crawling with maggots that were falling to the floor in white, wriggling heaps.

Nausea boiled in my stomach; horror brimmed my eyes.

I quickly turned away, my eyes meeting green again. His face was no longer stained with blood, and his hair was dry, shiny, and golden with life. I was as speechless as my face was drained of blood.

He took one more step toward me, but this time I didn’t back away, either frozen with fear or desperation for one last experience of closeness with him. My heart thrummed as he reached out to cup my face. It isn’t him, it isn’t him, it isn’t him, I repeated madly in my head. Oh, but it felt so much like him when his warm hand met my skin.

“I told you I’m always with you, sweetheart,” he murmured. And I knew engaging with him, in whatever form he took, affirmed my mental unwellness, but I couldn’t stop from leaning into his touch anyway. “Remember that.”

My cheeks were wet with tears. “I love—”

A bolt of lightning flashed, and thunder boomed throughout the house.

I was back in my bed.

My eyelids were heavy with sleep as they fluttered open. I felt detached, destabilised, and unsure of my existence in the world for I wasn’t sure which of the twoI was currently in. Real or fake?

A few minutes went by before I managed to get a grip on reality, which, in fact, was the real one. The Somewhere Bad. I pinched the corners of my eyes, not only finding them damp with fresh tears but also realising that my right hand—previously tucked beneath my head—was numb.

None of it had been real…

The entire time, my body was trying to alert me, to save me from the inescapable heartache I would feel upon waking. He hadn’t held me in his arms. He hadn’t cupped my cheek nor helped me wash the dishes. He wasn’t here. He wasn’t anywhere (not even in his own marked grave because there was nothing left of him to be buried).

Even despite seeing the familiar tall outline standing in the doorway, his features illuminated with each flash of lightning, I knew it wasn’t really him.

Rain was pummelling the roof, almost loud enough to subdue the perpetual rumbling of thunder (apart from the one sky-splitting thunderclap that had woken me). In another time, I would’ve been scared—of the raging storm, of my phantom lover who was watching from the shadows of our bedroom. But not now.

In recent months, I had found that no emotion, not even fear, surpassed the soul-crushing realisation that you have irretrievably lost the one thing you lived for.

On a defeated whim, and for the first time since his death, I let the singular, weighted word breeze past my lips.

“Finnick.”

It was a trembling plea, a desperate beckon.

And he indulged.

His footsteps were silent as he walked towards the bed. I couldn’t see his legs from my position, prompting me to wonder if he even had legs at all. Or did he only have legs when I could see them? That would then insinuate that if I couldn’t see him at all, he didn’t exist.

If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound? In my case, the answer was simple: no, it didn’t.

It wasn’t really Finnick. It wasn’t even his ghost. It was my mind.

He reached the bed’s edge, and I scooted over to my side of the mattress, allowing him enough space to lie down on his. His weight neither dipped nor shook the bed as he laid down and turned on his side to face me. His eyes were sad, and I’m sure mine were too. We stared at each other for a long, long time, long enough for my fatigued body to start playing tricks on me.

If I focused hard enough, I thought I could hear the sound of his breathing (the wind was picking up outside), feel the warmth of his skin spreading onto the sheets (the remnants of my own body heat were left behind each time I moved), and smell the musky scent of cologne and sea-salted hair (the sleeves of his sweater were tucked beneath my nose).

Maybe for a moment—just one sickly, self-indulgent moment—I could pretend it was really him.

I inhaled deeply through my nose. “You really weren’t kidding when you said you would haunt the next owner of this house,” I whispered as light-heartedly as I could, my voice obscured by the heavy rain pouring onto the roof.

He smiled, and it was one of the most heart-wrenchingly beautiful things I had ever seen. I think I might have given him one in return, though I couldn’t be too sure because the concept of smiling had become so foreign. The last time I was truly happy was… the last night we spent together. In each other’s arms, safe and warm and together.

And then he was gone. Just like that.

Cressida, whom I had only spoken to once in Thirteen when the war ended, was the one to tell me how it happened. Katniss was too personal, too close to him; Peeta’s instability rendered conversation futile. So, I had asked Cressida to tell me every detail—every expression on his face, every word he screamed. I don’t know why. Maybe it was so I could cling onto those last few minutes where he was still alive and breathing, despite dying and bleeding; or so I could replay the moment over and over in my head, as if somehow, someway, I could change his fate.

“He talked about you all the time,” she had told me. “Actually, I don’t think he ever spoke of anything but you. No one minded, though. While we were out there, no one ever really smiled, but every time your name was mentioned, Finnick would get this great big grin on his face, and it was impossible not to look at him and start smiling as well.

So, we all started asking questions about you: ‘What colour is her hair? Her eyes? Where did you meet? What are her hobbies?’—just to see him smile… A week passed, and it was like we all knew you inside out. It was all we could do to hang on to some shred of happiness, even if it meant talking about a girl who, to all of us, was a stranger.”

I was inconsolable after that.

She kept talking, but my sobs had drowned out most of her words, so much that I had asked her to retell me everything later in the day, despite inducing the same outcome. So, she told it to me again, just as she did the day after that and the day after that and so on until I returned home to District Four.

“He also spoke about how you never felt comfortable living in the Victors Village. He had this idea that the two of you would move somewhere far away, outside the borders of District Four­, though he emphasised remaining by the sea was very important—something about how you looked while swimming during sunset and the water was all sparkly around you.”

At this point, she had been holding my hand, knowing full well how debilitating it was for me to hear. Then she had spoken with a quiet incredulity and a facial expression to match, as though she’d never encountered a love like ours before. “He wanted to build a house for you…”

He wanted to build a house for you.

And now he never would. Our love was too ephemeral for that to happen; destined to remain history; to be a memory.

Finnick's eyes stared into mine, the green hue now a dark grey from the overshadowing dimness of the room.

“I would’ve gone anywhere with you,” I whispered to him, placing my hand on the sheets between us. “I would’ve travelled thousands of miles away from this place. Would’ve lived in solitary, just the two of us, for the rest of our lives.” A warm tear tickled the bridge of my nose. His eyebrows scrunched together in shared anguish. “God, Finn, I miss you,” my voice broke. “I miss you so much.”

I contemplated crying, sobbing, screaming, or begging for him to come back, but I was just too tired. All my energy had been spent on grievance throughout the following day, and my eyes were growing heavier by the second as my body was sinking further into a state of relaxation.

Between slow blinks, I watched Finnick’s large hand move to rest atop my own, and at that point, I knew sleep would soon catch me because I swear I could feel his warm touch.

Images flashed through my mind—incomprehensible and melting together, yet somehow still graspable.

Sky blue water rippling with calm waves, the surface glittering in the setting sun. A white stonewall cottage fronted by soft, white sand and tall palm trees. Two plates of fruit-filled yoghurt and scrambled eggs on toast. Three pairs of footprints in the sand, one larger, one smaller, and another between them so delicately tiny I could fit them into the palm of my hand.

Sea-green eyes above me. Golden hair tangled between my fingers. Finnick standing in the wooden doorway of our white stonewall cottage wearing a cream-white sweater and rolled-up slacks. Finnick grinning deeply and then throwing his head back with laughter. Finnick standing in front of our bed, taking my hand in his and guiding me towards him. Finnick. Finnick. Finnick. Finnick. Finnick.

Finnick holding our child.

I was between worlds now, both indistinguishable from the other. My eyelids were drooping, and I was quickly growing insensate. Just before my eyes closed completely, I saw Finnick’s—he who wasn’t really my Finnick—lips move. It wasn’t in my bleak reality in which I heard him speak, but rather in my mind, and God, did his words offer the sweetest relief.

“I’ll see you when you fall asleep.”

[number1mingyustan]

Today, Tomorrow, and Forever ☾ ♡

husband!seungchol x fem!reader, newlyweds au

Warnings: cursing, explicit smut, unprotected sex (missionary), soft sex, oral (f.), multiple orgasms, body worship, creampie, soft!dom cheol, they are so in love

Summary: You mean everything to him and more

Word Count: 2.3k

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(a/n: school started again and i’ve been so inactive i’m sorry y’all 💔)

You feel like a teenager again. The two of you are giggly and stumbling all over yourselves, drunk off of your love and the little bit of champagne you shared earlier.

Seungchol pushes the elevator button once for the sixth floor, and when it doesn’t immediately light up he starts aggressively pressing it over and over again. You giggle, placing your hand on top of his.

“Calm down baby… there’s no need to rush,” You grin.

“I finally got you all to myself… don’t wanna waste another moment.” He says.

The elevator door is about to close and Seungchol is already plotting all the things he’s gonna do to you when you get upstairs. Matter of fact, what he’s planning to do to you right here in the elevator even.

But before he can act on any of his desires, a hand stops the elevator from closing and a woman steps inside. She’s a little breathless, making it obvious she was in a bit of a rush to get here.

Seungchol has to hold himself back from groaning out loud. He finally got a moment alone with you and it’s been ruined again.

You nudge him when you notice the way he’s blatantly rolling his eyes.

“Thank you, I thought I wasn’t going to make it,” The woman says as she fully steps into the elevator.

“Mhm. What floor?” Seungchol asks with the least bit of interest in his voice.

You nudge him again and he sighs.

“The fifth please,” the woman says with a smile. “And might I just say…. you are gorgeous. Congratulations to the two of you I’m assuming.”

She takes notice of your attire.

Seungchol is holding the bottom of your white dress with the utmost care so it doesn’t drag.

It’s your wedding day, well wedding night really now. It’s the whole reason Seungchol has been so antsy and handsy.

As much as he loves all your family and friends, the reception was meant to be over hours ago. He didn’t want it to end, considering it was still your special day, but he wanted some alone time with his beautiful wife.

Conversation started to get exhausting, hearing the constant congratulations and saying ‘thank you’ and smiling for hours on end.

He truly couldn’t have been happier, but he wanted to spend some time with his beautiful wife.

Nonetheless, today was the best day of your entire life. You can’t help but look down at the gorgeous ring decorating your finger.

“Oh! Thank you,” you smile. “Yeah… it’s our big day.”

“I wish the two of you the best.” She smiles.

“Thank you,” Seunchol smiles. “We appreciate it.”

She gives another genuine smile. “I know you probably know this, but marriage isn’t easy by any means. But just know that no matter what happens, she’s always right.” The woman jokes.

Seungchol chuckles and looks at you with a genuine look in his eyes. “I didn’t have to marry her to know that.”

The woman laughs and the elevator sings when it reaches the fifth floor. “Well this is my stop. It was nice meeting you too and I wish you the best.”

“Thank you,” you smile.

She steps out and waves before the doors shut again.

“She was sweet,” You comment.

“Mhm,” He pulls your body closer to his protectively. “But now it’s just you and me for the rest of the night.”

He starts leaving kisses along your neck. But before it can escalate, the elevator reaches the sixth floor and the door opens in front of you.

He holds the key in his pocket and begins pulling you out the elevator and toward your room for the night. He doesn’t let your dress touch the ground, even as he scrambles for the key and opens the door.

When he does, your eyes go wide at the sight before you.

The hotel room is incredible. It’s spacious and the bed is huge, decorated with rose petals and a bottle of champagne. The pillows are heart shaped and there are balloons touching the ceiling.

“Do you like it?” Seungchol asks.

You turn back at him with glossy eyes. “I love it. I can’t believe you did all this.”

“You put so much into planning the wedding… I figured I could do a little special something for you.”

You’re quick you wrap your arms around him. He nearly drops the train of your dress with how much force you use to embrace him. He holds you in his arms, rubbing your back lightly.

“I know I’ve said it a million times… but you look so beautiful.”

The love in his eyes is pure and genuine. There’s a slight glimmer every time he stares at you and he couldn’t hide it even if he wanted to.

You don't hesitate to place your lips on his. It's a sweet kiss but it escalates quickly. He holds you by the waist gently as he kisses you back. Your lips mold together perfectly as he holds you close to him.

The kiss grows passionate quickly, and he's soon lifting you up and placing you on the large bed gently. He kneels down in front of you and helps you to take off your heels. He rubs your feet soothingly, allowing his head to disappear under your dress momentarily to leave loving kisses along your legs.

He places your shoes upright on the floor before standing to his feet and leaning over to capture your lips in another kiss. Your hands undo the buttons of his tux and the white button up he has on underneath.

He stands shirtless in front of you with a grin plastered on his face. "You're so beautiful," he mumbles. He plants a kiss on your shoulder before his hands find their way to the zipper on the back of your dress. He slides it down with care and helps you step out of the dress.

He takes your wedding dress and hangs it up before returning to you on the bed. He pushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear softly. "Can I take this down?" he asks.

You look up at him with soft eyes and nod.

Carefully, he takes out all the pins holding up your hair and allows it to fall down onto your shoulders. His hand cups your cheek and he kisses you again.

He crawls on top of you without breaking the kiss. He plants his body between your thighs and runs his fingers along your exposed skin.

"Wait! I bought a new set just for tonight!" You break the kiss and sit up on the bed quickly.

He pushes you back down onto the bed gently. "Baby don't worry about it. Save it for this weekend when we go on honeymoon. Don't wanna waste another minute."

Singlehandedly, he removes his belt and tosses it onto the floor before doing the same with his pants. He begins kissing down your neck, trailing down to your collarbone and the curve of your breasts. His hand undoes the back of your bra before he tosses it and continues trailing down your body with kisses.

"Cheol..." you whine when his puckered lips reach the hem of your panties.

"Don't tell me you're being impatient now... you were ready to do an outfit change a few minutes ago," he chuckles.

"That's only because I suddenly remembered. It's what most couples do on their wedding night, no?"

He grins. "When have we ever been like most couples?" He slides your panties down and tosses them before he spreads your legs and dips his head between your thighs.

He doesn't warn you before attaching his lips to your clit and sucking on the sensitive bud. You hiss and arch your back off the bed at the sudden jolt of pleasure pulsing through your body. Your hands fly to his hair, gripping his strands tightly.

He licks a stripe between your folds before reattaching his lips to your clit and sucking. You squirm beneath him, but he doesn't mind. It actually boosts his ego, knowing he can make you squirm so much and so quickly.

"Shit," you breathe out as you tug at his hair.

He grins when he feels your arousal starting to coat his face. He's determined to make his new wife feel good and he's relentless in his movements. His tongue is everywhere, darting inside of you and latching along your clit.

You're still writhing beneath him, struggling as he pleasures you to the max.

Your husband has always been a giver.

"Cheol-ah! I'm close," you warn him.

You can feel him grin against your skin. He wraps his arms around you thighs and pins your body down. His tongue is moving quickly, heart set on making you cum on his tongue.

You're whining above him, unable to stay still even as he holds you in place. He can't help but go faster, nose nudging against your clit as his tongue laps your folds, moaning against your skin and sending vibrations coursing through your sensitive body. He's bringing you closer to the euphoric feeling he's wanted to give you since the words "I do" slipped out of your mouth earlier today.

Your back is arching off the bed when you cum and your hands press his head down against your cunt. You're grinding against his face, hips pushing against him and nearly suffocating him.

Not that he minds. If he ever were to die, he could only hope it was between your thighs like this.

Your body is completely overcome with pleasure. He doesn't stop, simply tilting his head up to watch the way your body trembles and how your chest rises and falls quickly as you come back into your senses.

He crawls back up on top of you, pushing your messy hair out of your face. His face is just a few inches away from yours, you can still the the glisten on his lips from your arousal.

"You're always so good at that.... I don't know how I got so lucky," you breathe out.

He grins. "I'm the lucky one baby."

"Cheol... want you inside of me," you look up a him with lust in your eyes, nudging your nose against his.

He's quick to pull his underwear off and toss them onto the floor. The two of you are tangled beneath the sheets in a matter of seconds. His body hovers over yours once again. He strokes his length slowly, eyes admiring and scanning over your body.

He tip teases your folds before he pushes in to fulfill your needs. He tried going in slow, but you were so wet that his length slipped all the way into you. You both breathe out at the sudden feeling.

Your walls are hot and wet and sucking him in. He holds himself up on his hands with his mouth hanging agape. It feels like your first time with him all over again.

It may be your first time together as husband and wife, but it feels foreign despite the many times you've done this. The intimacy is on an entirely new level. There is so much love and adoration radiating from both your bodies, it makes your heart feel full.

"Good?" he asks.

You nod. "Yeah."

He kisses your cheek before allowing his head to fall into the crook of your neck. He draws his hips back before thrusting back into you. His thrusts re slow, but deep. He pushes into you with full force, filling your cunt every time he moves.

He's in no rush, he simply wants to make you feel good. You feel hims groaning and moaning against your collarbone each time he bottoms out.

Your wrap your legs around his torso, pulling him closer and forcing his length deeper inside of you. Your head sinks into the pillow and your eyes fall shut.

"Ah-shit," you breathe out.

The bed shifts beneath you every time he fills you up. "Feel so good Angel," he coos. "My pretty wife."

You can only moan out in response. It feels so fucking good.

"You're taking me so well baby... really were made for me," he moans.

He begins sucking on your neck, leaving dark hickies along your skin. You really are his, his everything. His wife, wearing his ring while marked up with his love bites.

He never thought he'd see this day. He's been thinking about it since the day he met you and now he can't believe you're really his for the rest of eternity.

His love for you is pure and unlike anything you've ever experienced before. He understands you and is willing to do anything to ensure your happiness.

"I'm cumming... fuck," you warn him.

He groans against your skin, indicating that is orgasm is approaching too. He thrusts deep inside of you a few more times before you both fall apart. You cum at the same time, moaning out in unison as he fills you up and you experience another euphoric high.

He pulls out, licking his lips as he sees his cum drip out of you, mixing with your own arousal. He rolls onto the bed next to you, laying on his side so he can still look at you. His fingers move your hair out of your face again, this time playing with the strands gently.

"I love you so much," he says.

You breathe heavily. "I love you more."

"Impossible," he says before placing a sweet kiss on your lips.

He pulls you closer to him, not caring how sweaty you are or how messy your hair is now. He holds you in his arms, fingers tracing over your skin lovingly.

He'll clean you up later, for sure. But right now, he just wants to lay in bed and hold his pretty wife for a little bit longer.

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© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[lovecla]

TAKE YOUR PAIN AWAY | quinn hughes.

chapter three:

<last chapter> <next chapter>

➴ chapter warnings: drinking.

➴ word count: 4.2k

💌 from me to you: another chapter? clara, don’t you have better things to do with your life? yes guys i do but i spent my entire shift today thinking about publishing this chapter and just when i thought i shouldn’t because i don’t want you guys to get tired of me, tumblr sends me a notification that i’ve reached 250 reblogs today. so yes im taking this as a sign from the universe and im posting this today. also, angst? not here! we want madison and quinn to love each other and we want it NOW! (p.s sorry abt the word count. i got carried away)

౨ৎ

2024, MARCH

CLUBBING IN Vancouver felt like a fever dream, especially with Jack Hughes.

It was already one a.m. and you and Jack were incredibly drunk, dancing around with Luke and laughing. All of you minus Quinn, who had ordered just one beer and was sitting at your table like he was fifty years old.

Fortunately, not many people had recognised you or the brothers, which was good. But if you were to be honest, getting recognised was the least of your problems. Getting extremely shit-faced was your ultimate goal that night.

“These songs are all so fucking lame,” you yelled over some country music, making Jack— who was apparently the biggest country music supporter ever— give you the finger. Luke laughed, sipping on his non-alcoholic drink. Getting Luke inside the club with a fake ID was already enough of a mess so there was no need for any more scandals.

You and Jack on the other hand were drinking for both of them.

“Go complain to them, then!” He yelled, probably kidding, but drunk you wasn’t exactly the sanest person ever.

So you walked until you were side by side with the DJ, tapping her on the shoulder to get her attention. “Hey! Play some fucking good music!”

“What?” She shouted, looking at you with her headphones still on. There were so many people dancing around you both that you had no choice but to glue your body to hers.

“Play something like Rihanna,” you yelled, grabbing her microphone and shouting. “Are y’all tired of this lame ass music too?”

People shouted, apparently agreeing with you.

You looked at her, raising your eyebrow and silently asking for her to change it. She shrugged, not really caring about the fact that you had just called her playlist “lame”, and changed into some other song.

Rihanna’s voice and the customers screams filled the place, making you scream too. You were really out of your mind because not drunk you would never want this much attention.

You walked until you were on top of someone’s table, climbing on it with the help of a random guy, dancing and singing along to Rihanna’s song, Only Girl.

You could faintly see Jack, Quinn and Luke at your table, Jack shouting your name while Luke used his phone to record it. Quinn looked like he was having the worst time of his life, but you were probably just seeing things.

“I want you to love me,” you sang, grabbing someone’s spoon to use as your mic. “Like I’m a hot ride,”

Some girls were singing along with you, and you smiled at them. The club was ringing with the heavy bass of the song, casting vibrant hues of pink and purple through the air.

Even if you were drunk, all of your moves were smooth and effortless, like you’d been born for this. You were having fun and for the first time not thinking of the consequences of your actions— which was probably a bad move.

You looked down, noticing that Luke stood in front of you, offering you his hand so you could get off the table, making sure you didn’t hurt yourself in the process.

“Hey,” he greeted, while you hugged his neck.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much, Lukey,” you shouted over the music. “You’re so grown up now!”

“You’re so gone.” he laughed, putting his hands on your waist. “We need to go.”

He was absolutely right, you were very much gone. And you were a little tired, but it’d been so long since the last time you went out to dance that you didn’t really care about sleeping or going back to your hotel.

“Dance with me, Lukey,” you smirked. “We can go home after this song.”

He only nodded, moving his body with yours awkwardly, making you laugh really hard. You still loved them a lot, and they’d forever be in your heart, no matter how much time passed.

Someone grabbed your arm midway through going down to the floor, pulling you up. You frowned, looking up and watching Mr. No Fun scowling at you and Luke.

“I told you to come get her and you’re now dancing with her? Let’s go,” he hissed, pulling you with him, so close you could feel the warmth of his body against yours.

“I would love to know what the hell happened to you, because why are you an ass all the time?” You yelled, the need of making him as upset as you was bigger than your common sense. “Or maybe it’s just with me.”

“Be quiet, Madison,” he growled before handing Luke his card and asking him to pay the bill and fetch Jack on his way back, while he dragged you out of the club. “We’re leaving.”

“I can see that,” you scoffed, waving to some of the girls who were dancing with you earlier. “Of course it’d be you to ruin my night.”

“Ruin your night?” He stopped, turning around and staring at you. “You’re drunk, dancing in the middle of people you don’t even know, when you’re well known and when you know anyone could do anything to you.”

“You said know thrice,” you giggled, stopping yourself when you saw that his angry face was still there. “And I was dancing with Luke.”

“Yeah, after you danced on top of a fucking table with I don’t even know how many men around.” He snorted, resuming his walk and dragging you with him again.

“Why are you so angry?” You rolled your eyes. “Is it because you still see me as your little sister? Is that what’s happening here?”

He stares at you, gray-ish eyes making you shiver. Locking his jaw, he only shook his head and didn’t say anything else, making you angrier.

But before you could properly lash out on him, Luke and Jack were standing by Quinn’s side, ready to say their goodbyes.

“I would’ve stayed for way longer but you know, duty calls,” Jack smiled, words coming out of his mouth slurred and slow, hugging you weirdly because he was really drunk too.

“Come see us in Jersey. We miss you.” Luke said, hugging you sideways.

“Yeah,” Jack agreed. “I’ll give you my jersey.”

You nodded, kissing them both on the cheek. “Be safe. You guys keep doing your great work. I’ll miss you.”

“Bye, bro,” they hugged Quinn and you were confused for two seconds before remembering that Quinn lived in Vancouver. “See you soon.”

Quinn hugged them back, asking Luke to drive safely and text when they got to their hotel. As you watched them go, you resumed walking too, removing your heels and reaching for your phone to call an Uber.

“Where are you going?” Quinn shouted behind you, and you didn’t look back when you answered “hotel!”. “You’re barefoot, it’s almost three a.m. and you’re alone in a city you don’t even know.”

“First of all, I was born here. And second of all, I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you replied, trying to see one phone at a time. “Why do I have two phones?” You mumbled.

“Madison, come on,” his steps were getting closer. “Let me drive you to your hotel.”

“I thought you were a hockey player, not a chauffeur,” you snorted, pretty sure that you spelled the French word wrongly. “Go home, Quinn.”

You felt a hand on your wrist, holding you. You stopped, staring at it before looking up and looking at Quinn’s angry face. “Madison. You’re drunk, and Vancouver isn’t as safe as they made it out to be.”

“Why are you so worried now, H-Hughes?” You raised your brow. “You were just fine ignoring me for the entire night. I don’t understand what changed.”

He sighed, running his hands through his beautiful, perfect hair. “I’m sorry, okay? I know I’ve been an asshole this entire night but— it’s complicated. Just let me take you home, alright?”

You stared at him for a long time, watching as his frame sometimes doubled in quantity and two Quinn’s stood in front of you. Two Quinn Hughes would be a very pleasant sight, indeed.

“Why is it complicated?” You finally said.

“Madison, we’re not having this conversation tonight with you three sheets to the wind. Come on.” He said before pulling you again.

“I’m not leaving with you, and stop using hard words!” You shouted, removing yourself from his grip. “Good night.”

Turning around, you started walking again, one step at a time because apparently you had four left feet.

Only to feel your body being pulled and suddenly your feet were off the ground and you were in Quinn’s arms, with him carrying you bridal style, making you yelp.

“What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Last time I saw you, you weren’t so dirty-mouthed.” he mumbled, his stubble scratching your temple.

“Last time you saw me I was fifteen. I am twenty-two now and very much allowed to say things like fuck.” You squirmed in his arms, tiring yourself even more. Quinn’s arms felt like they were made of iron. “I also fuck now.”

Oh you were so going to regret this.

He frowned. “I don’t want to know about that, Madison.”

“‘Course you don’t,” you mumbled, giving up and resting your head on his shoulder.

“We’re going to talk later.” He said, suddenly stopping and putting you down in front of a fancy black car. Probably his.

“About what? Me having sex?” You chuckled.

“No, God. Not that,” he dropped his key, bending over to pick it up. He opened the door for you and ordered: “Get in.”

“You’re actually pretty annoying.” You mumbled, but did what he said anyway. You were starting to feel sleepy and bickering with Quinn seemed uninteresting now.

Even though it was funny to watch him scowl.

His car’s seat was cold but he turned the heat on as soon as he started the car. He got out of the parking spot and started driving around Vancouver’s almost deserted streets.

You sighed, resting your head against the window and getting comfortable. Even though you were still upset with Quinn and even though you were pretty sure he also was upset with you, there was just something comforting about being around him. You loved it a lot, and hadn’t realized you’d missed it this much.

“Which hotel are you in?” He asked after a while, and you didn’t even open your eyes to answer.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “Fancy and big, looks like a shoe b-box, but I don’t know the name of i-it.”

“How do you not know the name of the hotel you’re staying at?” You could hear the amusement in his voice, making you smile sleepily. “How were you even going to call an Uber, then?”

“You ask too many questions, Quinn,” you answered, before lulling yourself into a deep sleep.

You didn’t get to sleep for a long time, because soon you had Quinn opening the door and almost making you fall out of the car. “Oh, sorry. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

You were amazed by the fact that he’d manage to find out in which hotel you were staying in even without you saying anything, and you found yourself smiling, remembering how you admired him as a kid, when he’d always have the answers to your questions.

“What are you smiling about?” He asked you, placing his hands on your lower back.

“Nothing.” You answered but you weren’t exactly sure if the word had come out right.

Either way you heard his quiet laugh, before taking your heels and purse— that you didn’t even remember you had�� out of his car and locking it. He guided you through the small path, stopping in front of the big door and unlocking it.

Funny, this hotel looks a lot different than the one you’d checked in but maybe they’d finally upgraded your room.

“How did you get them to give me a better room?” You asked, looking around.

The room looked a lot like a house to be honest, it even had an open kitchen and a living room.

“What do you mean?” He asked, turning around and looking at you, apparently confused.

“When I checked-in earlier they— they,” you hiccupped, wanting nothing more than a bed. “They gave me a very shitty bedroom and I had to take a cold s-shower because the heater was broken.”

“We’re not at your hotel,” he rolled his eyes. “We’re at my house. I don’t know where your hotel is and I don’t have time to drive around until you remember its name so you’ll sleep here tonight.”

If you weren’t so drunk and ready to sleep for the next century, you might’ve put on a fight. But all you managed to do was walk around the living room and say “Okay, sleep well.” Before laying down on his big, fluffy couch.

“What— Jesus,” he echoed, grabbing your hand. “You’re not sleeping on the couch. I have a spare room.”

He walked you to another spacious room, gently helping you sit on the bed.

“Can you wait here for a second? I’ll go and grab something for you to wear. You’re probably uncomfortable with that… thing,” he said, pointing to your dress and leaving the room, not waiting for your answer.

Not that you would’ve given him one anyway, you were too distracted trying not to sleep. It was a hard job.

He didn’t take long, coming back with a plaid shirt and some blue shorts that looked ginormous. “This probably won’t fit you but it’s fine, it’s just for tonight.”

He placed them on the bed, helping you get up and stand on your feet. He turned you around, unzipping your dress and helping you get out of it. Then, he made you face him again, only that he wasn’t really looking at you. His head was down, his eyes on the floor, and you caught yourself smiling with how cute and respectful Quinn’s always been.

You changed into his clothes taking ten minutes more than you usually would, especially with how you are so used to changing fast during runways, but your limbs were heavy and you were on your final straw.

“This doesn’t fit,” you mumbled, watching as you tried to tie the shorts’ lace around your waist and failing miserably, just for it to fall at your feet, leaving you with just his shirt and your panties. “Quinn. It doesn’t fit.”

“I can see that, Madison,” he chuckled, finally looking you in the eye again. “Go to bed. Tomorrow we will find something else.”

You shrugged, getting on the tip of your toes and giving him a light kiss on the cheek. “Night, Quinny.”

You didn’t watch his reaction, heading to bed immediately and passing out before you even got to hear his answer.

౨ৎ

maddiecarter_updates

liked by cherylwilliams, lucaspotter, melanieg_12 and 12,013 others

maddiecarter_updates Looong night for our girl Mads! She was seen by fans in Vancouver at a night club with Jack, Quinn and Luke Hughes, and some locals said they saw her leaving the club with Quinn Hughes (@_quinnhughes)! We hoped she enjoyed herself! 😊

View all 129 comments

user1 who r these fine men lmfao

maddiecarter_updates user1 They’re NHL players, Quinn plays for the Vancouver Canucks and both Luke and Jack play for the NJ Devils. 🙂

user2 lowkey wish she’d grab my ass too :/

user3 Aren’t they the guys she grew up with? I might be wrong though..

maddiecarter_updates user3 Madison never confirmed nor denied these rumours. The nature of her relationship with the Hughes is still unknown and we must respect that :)

user4 SHE’s SO FINEEEEEE

user5 HUGGY BEAR LOOKING SO DAMN FINE THATS MY CAPTAIN

user6 watch puck bunnies start dragging her in 3. 2. 1….

౨ৎ

WAKING UP the next morning felt like running an entire marathon barefoot and naked, after eating a whole bunch of junk food and drinking two gallons of milk.

In other words, it’d been hard.

It felt like you were emerging from a foggy, oppressive haze. Your eyelids were heavy, struggling to open, and when you finally managed to open them, the light from the window felt painfully bright, stabbing your temple.

Your mouth feels like sandpaper and the lingering taste of alcohol sits on your tongue. Every sound, even the gentle rustle of sheets, seems amplified, reverberating in your throbbing head. A dull, relentless ache pulses behind your eyes, making it hard to focus on anything.

“Holy fuck,” you mumbled, trying to wet your lips with your tongue. “What the hell…”

Your body feels heavy, sluggish, and as you slowly sit up the whole room starts spinning slightly. A wave of nausea hits you, a queasy reminder of the night before. Your stomach churns, and there's an unsettling sensation in your gut, as if everything is on the edge of tipping over. You rub your face, feeling the sweat and the grogginess, struggling to remember what happened, but the memories come in disjointed flashes.

“Oh my God.”

You were mortified with your own actions. Dancing on top of a table? Grabbing the DJ’s ass? Talking with Quinn about your sex life?

“Oh my God,” you cover your mouth with your hand, trying not to throw up.

You got up, looking around, trying to recognise the room you were in. It didn’t have much decoration in it, just a plain wallpaper and a big bed with two nightstands. There was a door to the left which you opened, finding a small bathroom with a shower, a sink and a toilet.

Looking at yourself in the mirror, you actually gasped. Your hair was all over the place, your makeup smudged and Quinn’s shirt had fallen off and your boobs were almost out.

“I need a shower,” you mumbled, getting out of your panties and Quinn’s shirt, turning the shower on. Your head was still pounding and it only got worse when you remembered that you were away from Bella and that you’d have to move to Vancouver in less than two weeks.

Even if you wanted to say no to La Vie en Rose’s deal so bad, you didn’t want to do that with Nicholas. He was a great person, and a great friend too, and you knew he had the purest of intentions. And it would only be for six months.

You scrubbed your body with the liquid soap, feeling the hot water worsening your headache but you weren’t the type of person who enjoyed cold showers.

Ten minutes later, the quickest shower of your life, you stood naked in the middle of the bathroom, looking for a towel inside the cabinets. After you found one, you wrapped your body around it and dried yourself while walking back to the bedroom.

You found a new change of clothes on the bed and a new pair of boxers, chuckling with how Quinn must have looked when he placed these things on your bed.

Oh, right. Quinn. You were at his house.

Thinking of what you’d even say to him, you put on the clothes he left for you, not wearing the shorts again. The shirt covered the boxers anyway.

You left the bedroom, walking around the house until you finally found the kitchen, reading the clock before you stared at Quinn. 7:34a.m.

“How did I wake up this early?” You asked, sitting on a stool and watching as he turned around and smiled at you.

His smile was still the same, just a little bit different. He looked tired, but his eyes still held that softness you adored so much.

“Morning to you,” he says, handing you a cup of coffee. “Your body’s probably still used to your usual routine. It’s normal.”

“That’s bullshit,” you groaned. “I feel like I’m about to die.”

“Don’t say that,” he chuckled. “You’ll be fine.”

You raised your brow at him, watched as he leaned against the counter and stared right back at you. Usually, you’d feel self conscious and nervous, but Quinn looked at you with tenderness, with delicacy. He made you feel safe without even doing anything, even if you were still supposedly mad at each other.

Which reminded you of something.

“Are you still mad at me?”

He scoffed. “I wasn’t mad at you, Madison.”

“You keep calling me that,” you pointed out. “I don’t remember everything that happened last night, but I do remember how upset you were with me, and how you didn’t even look at me for too long. Only when you were frowning.”

“Madison—”

“I get that you’re mad at me because I never talked to you again, or visited you in the US or when I didn’t congratulate you when you got drafted but—” you sighed, running your hands through your hair, frustrated. “You have no right to be upset.”

You watched as he looked at you, incredulous. “I have no right to be upset?” He cocked his head, wavy hair falling freely to the side. “Wanna tell me why?”

“Well, for starters, the phone works both ways,” you pointed out. “And also, you never came back for me either. So we’re even.”

“Are you kidding?” He laughed but you could see that he wasn’t thinking that what you were saying was actually funny. “Madison, tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m not!” You raised your arms, regretting immediately because your body still hurt. “Why would I joke about that?”

“Because I went to your house.”

You stared at him, waiting for him to tell you he was the one who was joking. Only that he stayed quiet, waiting for you to realize he was being serious.

“What the hell, Quinn? What do you mean?”

“After I called you several times and you didn’t pick up, I went to your parents’ house in Toronto, back in 2018,” he gestured with his hands, eyes never leaving yours. “I told your mom I was in town and I needed to see you, but she told me you were in Los Angeles, training to be a model, whatever that means.”

“I only moved to LA when I turned eighteen,” you frowned, confused. “And I never got any of your calls, not once. So I never called you because I thought— I don’t know, I thought you had gotten tired of me.”

“Why would you even think that?” He asked, voice filled with distress. “Madison, you were my best friend.”

“You were surrounded by gorgeous, beautiful girls who were your age and in the pictures you looked like you were having fun with them, so—”

“I would trade them all for you, Maddie. And you know that.”

You didn’t know which part of his statement hurt you the most. Him calling you by the nickname he gave you for the first time in years or the fact that you knew he was telling the truth.

“I know,” you whispered, choosing to look at the cup in front of you. “Maybe that’s exactly why I didn’t call or text you. You deserved better than some stupid fifteen year old who thought love could change the world.” You laughed, humorlessly.

“Don’t talk about yourself that way,” he complained. “You weren’t stupid. And I’m sorry for all this mess.”

You looked up, frowning. “I’m the one who needs to apologize. My mom lied to you about me moving and she probably blocked your number on my phone.”

“Either way, I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way I did. I just… seeing you after all these years and listening to you talking about Los Angeles like it was heaven on Earth when you hadn’t visited me or my family in a long time made me go crazy, ” he chuckles.

“Well, now we’re both sorry,” you mumbled, drinking the rest of the lukewarm coffee in one go. “What do we do now?”

“We can try keeping in touch with each other even when you’re back in LA,” he suggests, moving his body around the kitchen. “If that’s what you want, of course.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not going back to LA. At least not any time soon.”

He cocks his head. “What do you mean?”

“Got a job with a Canadian brand and I have to stay here for the next six months.”

“Stay here as in live here?” He asked, lips curling up. You nodded. “Oh.”

“Yup.”

“You don’t seem too excited.”

“I don’t really love the idea of living in the same city as my mom,” you mumbled, drawing invisible patterns with your fingers on the marble surface. “But I’ve been looking forward to working with them for a long time now.”

You heard Quinn’s steps, and next thing you know he was beside you, resting his elbows on the counter and looking at you with fond, blue eyes. “Don’t let people ruin what’s great for you, Maddie. No one should be more important than your dreams.”

You looked at him, smiling shyly. You didn’t really know how to act around him now that you were both in peace. And you still didn’t know what to do with your heart whenever it beat faster inside of you because of Quinn.

“Thanks, Quinn,” you sighed, getting off the stool. “I’ll go back to my hotel now. I’ll sleep before I decide what I need to do with my life.”

“A good nap is a good nap,” he nods. Then, scratching the back of his neck, he softly adds: “You can nap here if you want. I’ll head to the gym with my team but you’re free to stay.”

You can feel the blush adorning your face and you let out a fake cough, trying to get it back to normal.

“Okay,” you whisper. “Thank you. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as possible.”

He chuckles and stares at you for a while, looking like he was in the middle of a battle with his thoughts. At the end, you’d have to thank whoever won inside of his head, because he walked until he was standing not even an inch away from you and kissed you on your forehead, soft lips making you shiver.

“No need to hurry. I like having you around.”

Oh, boy. This was going to be difficult.

taglist: @ru-kru @alwaysclassyeagle @hischierswhore 🤎

[daisyvisions]

A Little Motivation - (e.s) | Pt. 2

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Pairing: Baseball Player!Eric x Fem! Reader

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Summary: Now that you have Eric’s undivided attention, he is determined to study hard and claim his prize. But will he be able to handle how hot his prize is?

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Word Count: 2.1K

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI), multiple male masturbation, oral (both m! and f! receiving because… it’s a 69 🤪), handjob, face riding, groping, some dry humping, cum eating, hickies, pussy!drunk Eric, reader turns Eric into a fumbling mess, praise kink mentioned, let me know if I missed anything. Proofread once.

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. A/N: Part 2 is finally up! Sorry for the wait y’all, but at least I didn’t leave this one dusting away in the WIPs. Consider this my advanced birthday gift to our puppy boy Eric!

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Network: @deoboyznet

‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. Read Part 1 here!

Ever since the tutoring session, Eric could not stop thinking about you.

The old image of you suddenly shifting into a new one as he replayed the chain of events that had happened hours ago. It was like you were a gift slowly unraveling in front of him. And he was eager to know what kind of surprise was in store for tomorrow.

As soon as he got home, he ran to his room and plopped down. Hastily unzipping his pants and freeing his aching member from his boxers to relieve all the pent up tension you’d given him earlier.

Spitting on his palm for extra lubrication before wrapping his hand around the base of his cock, gradually pumping himself as he holds your used panties in his other hand. Shoving the damp material against his face as he inhales the scent of you, wishing it was you that was bouncing on his length instead of his hand.

The blue balls you had given him was so bad, he even came thrice in succession. Continuing to fist himself after the first high came around until his body started to convulse after the third one.

He can’t recall a time anyone has ever had an effect on him like this. Maybe it’s the fact that he’s been in a dry spell for quite sometime, or maybe because there was something with the way your eyes bore deep into his soul. Or maybe even your teasing but delicate touches that sent shivers down his spine like no one ever had.

Either way, whatever trance you’ve placed him under he swore he never wanted to get out of it.

After rounds of relieving himself Eric was motivated to study hard for your next tutoring session tomorrow, something he would never be caught doing in a million years.

He was incredibly determined to please you. Not only because of the special reward you had promised him, but because there was something with the way you praised him that gave him a newfound confidence. Not even the compliments from his coach or the screams of adoring fans during games could compare to what he felt with you.

Eric leaned back on his chair for a moment thinking about it again. His heart fluttering against his chest as he replayed your sweet words of praise.

“I’m so proud of you!”

“You’re doing sooo well…”

“A little reward for today superstar, you deserve it.”

His mind started to drift as he thought about how your alluring voice would sound as you praised him for other things aside from school work. Thinking about the way your hands would slowly comb through his hair as praises turned into moans of his name. Chanting his name like an endless prayer while he had his way with you.

Eric shook his head and immediately patted his face to get himself out of the little fantasy brewing in his mind before his cock stirs in his pants again.

‘Keep on studying and you’ll get your reward tomorrow.’ He told himself.

This was definitely going to be a long night for him.

As soon as Eric rang the doorbell to your apartment, he was immediately greeted by the image of you wearing what he thinks was the most jaw dropping sundress he’d ever seen.

The way the fabric naturally hugged your figure, accentuating every curve that he never noticed until now. Not to mention how lightheaded he felt the moment he got a whiff of your perfume, slowly permeating his lungs as he stood there frozen like an idiot.

“Well… let’s get to it shall we?” You smile, already noticing the effect you have on him.

“Y-yeah. Yeah sure let’s go.” He stutters.

It was a good thing Eric studied the night prior, otherwise nothing would've entered his brain after reviewing with you for almost two hours straight (which was a new record for both of you).

“Wow, you went through the entire session without looking at your phone!” You exclaim as you close your notebook shut.

“What can I say? I love to learn.” Eric smugly says as he leans his back on his chair, raising his arms to stretch for a moment.

“Oh yeah?” You flirtatiously reply. You visibly see Eric gulp down whatever was stuck in his throat as his cheeks started to turn slightly pink.

You let out a small giggle as you pull out the mock test from your bag and slide the stapled papers his way.

“Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Eric nibbled on his nails as he anxiously watched you grade his paper. Nervously shaking his leg as you kept on flipping to the next page with no reaction on your face whatsoever.

As soon as you finished, you flipped back to the very first page and wrote down on the top right corner his overall grade and drew many stars around it. You looked up at him with the most breathtaking smile he’d ever seen.

“Good job Eric! You got a perfect on this mock test!” You praise him as you rest your hand on top of his and give a light squeeze. The small gesture making his heart flutter inside his chest.

“Almost seems like you studied before the session, hm?” You raise your eyebrow.

“Me? Studying outside our tutoring sessions? Pfsh-” Eric replies but refusing to look you in the eye.

You laugh at his reaction and it was like he was seeing hearts floating around you and the feeling of your warm hand still holding his was enough for him to feel a sudden throb beneath his jeans.

Jesus, keep it together Eric.

“So.. Uh… About that reward…” He inserts the reminder before any awkward air entering between the conversation.

“Oh. Eager now are we?” You tease as you push your chair backwards and stand up.

You walk over to him and hold your hand out for him, grabbing it and getting up from his seat as you lead him into the living room, instantly pushing his shoulders down as he plops onto the couch.

Eric doesn't even have time to process what’s going on until you suddenly straddle his lap, both knees resting at each side of his thighs as you lower yourself onto him. His hands immediately find purchase on the soft dips of your hips.

“For doing so good today, you get to choose what kind of reward you want superstar-”

You immediately dive into his neck, placing light pecks until they start to turn into lingering kisses. Licking and sucking on his pulse as you wait for him to tell you what reward he wants to cash in.

“H-holy shit-” Eric eyes roll back as he tries to focus on the softness of your lips kissing his sensitive skin.

You hold his hands in yours as you guide them under your dress. Guiding him from the globes of your ass to your inner thighs. As Eric explores the softness of your body with his fingertips, he lets out a deep groan as he discovers the fact that you were not wearing underwear this whole time.

God, you were going to be the death of him.

You feel Eric's bulge twitch beneath you, trying to hide the smirk growing on your face as you continue to leave red and purple marks on his neck. Who would’ve known how pussy drunk he could get?

“C’mon Eric. What will it be?” You mumble against his neck.

He tries to open his mouth to speak, but all the words just end up stuck in his throat as groans escape his lips instead. You pull your head away from his neck and move your face closer to his.

“Why don’t I make the decision for you, hm?” You lean to give him a deep kiss before pulling away, grinning from ear to ear as his lips attempt to chase after yours.

“Just lie down for me okay? Let me do all the work.” You whisper in his ear.

Eric whines at the lost of your body against his as you get off his lap. His eyes are focused on you the whole time as you instruct him to lie down on the couch, waiting to see what you’ll do to him next.

You straddle him once more, but this time sitting on his stomach as you face the other way with your ass in his line of vision. Eric’s not able to see what you’re up to, but he can definitely feel and hear his belt unbuckling and your fingers pulling the zipper of his jeans down as you free his aching cock.

He feels your hands slide into his jeans, his length throbbing in your hands as you continue to palm him sensually. You could feel your own core throbbing simultaneously as you play with him, hooking your fingers to the waistband of his briefs before completely freeing his member.

Your mouth waters at the sight of his fully erect cock, his pink flushed tip weeping with pre cum as it twitches on its own. Veins protruding on his length indicating how hard he is for you. You adjust your position, moving backwards to sit on his chest as you lower your head to give his mushroom head a few kisses and kitten licks.

The act alone already has Eric moaning like an untouched virgin. The way he could feel you kissing his member all over and lapping at his length slowly. But his eyes roll back as soon as he feels his cock suddenly enter the warm and wet cavern of your mouth.

“Fuck, just like that-” Eric mumbles as his eyes flutter shut. The way your mouth expertly moves up and down, almost as if his cock was actually inside your cunt. This was probably the best head he’s ever had in his life. His head completely in the clouds as you kept on working your mouth on him.

Eric instinctively places his hands to your ass, pushing the hem of your dress to your waist and exposing your naked bottom. The moment he opens his eyes, he’s greeted by the image of your glistening cunt inches away from his face. The sweet smell of your essence makes his cock twitch inside your mouth.

He wastes no time by pulling your ass closer to his face and immediately darts his tongue between your folds, lapping and sucking at your core as much as he can.

The feeling of his mouth practically making out with your pussy lips makes you suck him even harder than before. Muffled moans shared between you as you both busy yourselves with tasting one another.

You release his length from your mouth with a pop, continuing to pleasure him as your hand fists him up and down. Soft whines escape your lips as the tip of his tongue flicks your sensitive clit.

You’re so desperate to chase after your high, you don't even realize you’re starting to grind your core onto his face. The vibrations of his groans against your cunt making your walls clench at nothing.

Eric feels like he’s entered a different dimension. He’s never had a girl aggressively ride his face like this before. The way he’s starting to lose oxygen and taste nothing but you drives him closer to the edge of his own high.

You already know he’s close with the way his moans begin to stutter. So you take his length inside your mouth once more as you suck the life out of him and continue riding his face like there’s no tomorrow.

You both reach your highs together, his warm load exploding inside your mouth as Eric laps and sucks whatever essence comes out of you as if he’d been dying of thirst. You immediately get off his chest and adjust your position to face him, slightly giggling at his obvious fucked out face.

His senses come back to him as he starts feeling you grind your bare pussy on his strained cock, whining as soon as you stop rolling your hips and lean down to kiss him again. You smile into the kiss as you feel him throb beneath you. Tasting yourselves as your tongues intertwine for a moment.

As you break from the kiss, Eric looks at you with stars in his eyes. The way you seem to be glowing in front of him as you gently caress cheek. You give him a small kiss on his forehead as you smile at him before leaning close to his lips to whisper,

“See? All you needed was a little motivation…”

[0cta9on]

Unlikely Duet - 4

length: +7k words

Genre: Fluff

NewJeans Minji x Male Reader (OC)

(Author's Note: Kinda went crazy with this one, don't know if it's a good crazy or a bad crazy yet. Also, TW: Blood and violence.)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Yuno’s POV

The English teacher, Mr. Fillips, was droning on about Shakespeare or some other dead writer, but my mind was too preoccupied to pay attention. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about earlier this morning.

______________________________________________________________

I randomly awoke in the dead of night, finding myself with my arm wrapped around Minji’s waist. Panic surged through me as I attempted to disentangle myself, but she suddenly tightened her grip, anchoring us together. Sweat beaded on my forehead as the warmth from her body was becoming unbearable.

“Minji?” I whispered. “You awake?” I waited for what felt like an eternity, but silence was the only response I received. Any efforts to remove my arm from her grasp proved futile as it only strengthened with each attempt. I had fought members of the school’s wrestling team before, but all of them paled in comparison to sleeping Minji’s anaconda-like grip on my arm. I silently cursed my predicament, praying to whatever god out there that Minji never found out about this.

She began to quietly murmur in her sleep. Most of it was incomprehensible, but I managed to make out some of it: “Yuno… stay with me… please…”

My face turned warm as she uttered words I probably wasn’t supposed to hear. I tried one last time to free myself, but my body gave out from exhaustion and I surrendered myself to my unfortunate fate. My heart was beating too hard for me to fall asleep, so I had no choice but to lay there in silence, Minji’s sleeping body pressed against mine. I couldn’t help but stare at the peaceful expression on her face, illuminated by the moonlight peeking through the window. Her soft lips curved slightly into a grin and the faint scent of roses emanated from her silky black hair. Even when she was wearing a simple oversized tee shirt, she still somehow managed to look so…

“Mr. Lin!”

I jumped in my seat as I was forcefully torn from my daydreams. Mr. Fillips loomed beside me, a disapproving glare in his eyes. The entire class watched, looks of confusion and fear etched into their faces as they anticipated my reaction. In the corner of my eye, I notice Tyler McGraw and his band of goons snickering to themselves.

“That’s the third time I’ve asked you to read the passage, Mr. Lin. Are you paying attention now?” he asks in a stern tone. 

“Y-yeah, I am. Sorry.” I awkwardly clear my throat, trying my best to focus on the class while images of Minji flash through my mind.

______________________________________________________________

“A-are you alright, Yuno?”

I turn to see Winter appear next to me as I make my way towards the cafeteria for lunch. Truthfully, all three of my classes were incredibly difficult to focus on. No matter what, I couldn’t get Minji out of my head and I didn’t know why.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied. 

“Are you sure? You seem distracted. Is this about what happened yesterday?”

I panicked for a moment before realizing that she was talking about the attack and not the “sleepover” incident. My train of thought is interrupted as Yujin spots us from the end of the hall and waves.

“Hey, you guys!” He exclaims, causing a scene. Yujin runs up to us with a goofy smile on his face, attracting looks of disdain as he bumps into upperclassmen in the process. “What are y’all talking about?”

I quickly go through the lunch line and grab my food, the two of them in tow like baby ducks following their mother. My body shivers at the unpleasant thought, only for it to be swiftly replaced by Minji yet again. I faceplant into my usual lunch table and groan, my own mind becoming my worst enemy.

“S-some drunk creep attacked the student council president last night and Yuno jumped in to save her. I think he’s a little shaken up over it,” Winter explains. I was too busy suffering in mental anguish to correct her.

“Wow, Super Yuno swoops in to save the day again!” Yujin beamed.

I snapped my head up and glared at him. “Don’t. Call me that. Please,” I muttered before lowering my head back onto the table. 

“Okay, we can workshop the name a little, but…” Yujin rummages through his backpack and pulls out a notebook. He flips through the pages before revealing a pencil drawing of me wearing a Superman-esque outfit. “What do you think about the suit? Pretty sick, right?”

“Oh w-wow, that’s really well drawn, Yujin,” Winter compliments. I nodded in agreement, both impressed and slightly repulsed by the lifelike drawing of me in a cape and tighty whities. “D-did you really draw that?

“Yup, spent all night on it. Here,” Yujin says, ripping the drawing out of his notebook and handing it to me. “Consider it a token of my appreciation for saving my life.”

I reluctantly accept the drawing, placing it into my backpack. “Thanks. It’s… nice.” 

“So, what exactly happened yesterday? Tell me everything and don’t spare a single detail.” Yujin gazes at the two of us expectantly, an excited glint in his eyes.

“W-well,” Winter begins. “I was working the night shift at the convenience store and-”

“You work at the convenience store? So cool,” Yujin interrupts. Winter giggles at his innocent reaction before continuing the story.

“Y-Yuno came in and bought some things, but he forgot his change, so I followed him outside and saw him protecting the student council president from a drunk man.”

“Who’s the student council president?” Yujin asked.

“Minji Kim,” I mumble in response, staring blankly at my tray of food. “And I didn’t do anything; it was Winter who pepper sprayed him.”

She shakes her head in disagreement. “Y-you stepped in front of Minji. I just happened to be there.”

Yujin was too busy excitedly jotting something down to listen to her protest, mumbling to himself about “pepper superpowers”. Before I knew it, the end-of-lunch bell rang without me taking a single bite of food, my appetite lost from my mind being plagued with visions of Minji. I toss out the contents of my tray and leave for my next class.

“See you guys later!” Yujin says before running through the crowd of students trying to exit the cafeteria.

Winter waves at him as he leaves. “B-bye, Yujin,” she called out to him, but her quiet voice was drowned out by the surrounding chatter. “Bye, Yuno.”

I give her a nod as I take my leave. A sudden shiver runs down my spine as I sense a familiar set of cat eyes glaring at me from the edges of my vision but the presence disappears as soon as I turn to look at it.

______________________________________________________________

Minji’s POV

The calm silence of the library usually offered me solace, but I couldn’t help but feel helpless as I stared at my phone, the source of my distress. My parents hadn’t texted me since this morning, yet the suspense of waiting for their next message crushed me like a bug underneath a heavy boot.

“Minj, are you alright, girl?” Hanni asks me, her expression filled with concern. She accompanied me to the library while I worked on prom preparations, but it was impossible to work under these conditions.

“I’m fine,” I lied unconvincingly. Despite knowing for the past week that my parents would be flying in today, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of dread. They were hardly ever home due to constantly having to go on business trips, but when they were home, my mental health went down the drain. Even the thought of having to be face-to-face with them made me dizzy.

Hanni gently rubs my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me. “I can go home with you if you want. Your parents looooooove me,” she jokes.

My lips curl into a faint grin. “I don’t know if ‘love’ is the word I would use,” I shoot back, prompting her to playfully punch me in the arm. “Anyways, I think I’ll be okay. I’ll have to face them alone eventually.”

“It’s your funeral. The offer is always on the table if you need it, Minj.” Hanni flashes me a reassuring smile, momentarily easing my nerves. 

“Thanks, Hanni.” I return her smile with one of my own before looking back at the pile of work I need to do for prom. Picking a prom theme, finding a venue within the school’s budget, setting up events for the week leading up to prom - each responsibility felt like a massive weight on my shoulders. It was already super stressful with the entire senior class depending on me to host a successful prom, I didn’t need my home life to add to that stress.

Hanni shakes me from my thoughts. “Girl, you’re making that face again.”

“What face?” I ask, my head tilted in confusion.

“That face you make when you're stressed and stuff. Like, you scrunch up your eyebrows and your face gets all serious,” she explains while making the expression. I opened my mouth to protest, only to realize that, indeed, my eyebrows were scrunched. 

My attention is diverted to the library entrance as Yuno walks through the doors. Hanni laughs at me as I instinctively hide my face with a stack of papers. The memories of accidentally spending the entire night in his arms flood my mind, and a warm blush creeps onto my face.

“Oooooh, are you all nervous with your little boyfriend around?” she teases, her words making me squirm.

“He’s not my- Shut up, Hanni!” I retort, my face growing warmer with each passing second. Yuno briefly exchanges words with the librarian before turning around, our eyes locking inadvertently. His cheeks tint with a faint pink and his eyes grow slightly wider, almost as if he’s surprised to see me. Hanni, sensing an opportunity for mischief, beckons him over.

“W-what are you doing, Hanni!?” I panic, smacking her arm. She chuckles, undeterred, as Yuno makes his way towards our table. I bury my face in my hands, wanting to disappear from this moment.

“Heyyyyyy, Yunooooo,” she calls out, earning a shush from the librarian which she promptly ignores. “What are you doing around here?” Her signature impish grin is etched onto her face, a sign that she’s up to no good.

“Just need to print something out.” Despite his gruff tone, his eyes shift nervously back and forth. I had never seen him look so anxious before.

“That’s coollllll. Minji’s here too, you got anything to say to her?” Hanni gestures toward me, and I offer a shy smile, trying my best to act composed despite the unmistakable blush on my face.

Yuno stutters for a moment before managing, “U-um… Hi.” He nods awkwardly before hastily retreating behind a bookshelf, tripping slightly on the shelf’s edge. A chuckle escapes my lips as he disappears from view.

“That’s the guy that everyone’s so afraid of? The one that beat up Bryce?” Hanni asks, her eyebrow raised in disbelief. “He looks like he wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

I shook my head, a flashback of my first encounter with Yuno in the detention room vividly playing in my mind. His face had been marked with fresh cuts from his fight with Bryce just moments before. At first, I thought he was just another brute who liked causing trouble, but the past few days with him have proved me wrong.

“I mean, he did beat up Bryce, but he had his reasons. I don’t necessarily agree with him getting into a fight, but he’s not a bad guy. Maybe people should try to get to know him better instead of just assuming he’s just another delinquent. He’s kind, and thoughtful, and he has a good heart, a-and…” I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, realizing I had been unintentionally rambling about Yuno. Hanni stared at me in awe, the corners of her lips curling upward.

“OMG, Minj… You have a crush on him!!” she squeals. Panicking, I clamped my hand over her mouth. 

“N-no I do not! Can you please shut up, Hanni!?” I struggled to silence her as her whole body shook with laughter.

“You totally do, Minji!! Just look at yo-”

“SHHHH!!!! Ladies, this is a library!” Both of us freeze as the librarian glares at us with contempt.

“S-sorry…” I mutter before gathering up all my papers. Ignoring the sounds of Hanni giggling behind me, I quickly exited the library, eager to escape the embarrassment. My mind, already burdened with student council responsibilities and the impending meeting with parents, is suddenly occupied with a third weight - Yuno. Images of him fill my thoughts as I think about what Hanni said.

“I-I don’t have a crush on him. I can’t. My parents would never approve… I-I mean, he’s nice and all, and he did help me a lot yesterday. B-but we’re just friends… I guess? Friends can cuddle after a traumatic experience, right?? Omg, Minji, you are doomed…”

The stress that had gripped me earlier increased tenfold as I made my way towards my next class, uncertainty plaguing my mind with each step.

______________________________________________________________

Yuno’s POV

As the school’s printer whirs to life, I mentally facepalm myself for acting like an idiot in front of Minji. It didn’t help that I tripped on the shelf like a moron. 

“Hey, Yuno!” A voice from behind calls out to me while I wait for my papers. I turn and see Minji’s friend - Hanni, I think it was? - approaching me with a phone in her hand. “Minji forgot her phone on the table before she left, do you think you could give it to her later?” She punctuates her question with a mischievous smile. 

“Why can’t you do it? You’re her friend,” I ask, questioning her intentions. 

“Because, I have, uhh… stuff to do.” My skepticism only grew as she flashed me another offputting smile that made it obvious she was up to something. Before I could decline, she shoved the phone into my hands and skipped away without another word. Regretfully, I placed the phone into my pocket and grabbed my papers from the printer, leaving the library with more questions than I entered.

Walking through the halls back to class, I hear a commotion coming from the boys’ bathroom. I try to ignore it and keep walking, but something in my gut stops me from moving on. I push open the door, and the voices from within become much clearer.

“You little shit.” *THUD* “Not so tough without your little friend, huh?” *THUD*

I round the corner and my heart instantly drops. Yujin’s normally cheerful face was painted with cuts and bruises, blood dripping from his mouth and nose like a leaky faucet. His limp body was being held up by one of the football players while Tyler took free shots at him. 

“Get the fuck out of here before I-” Tyler turns around, noticing my presence. His eyes go wide with fear, but he keeps up his tough guy act, scoffing at me. “What the fuck do you want, Yuno?”

My heart pounds in my chest with anger. It’s taking every fiber of my being to stop me from smashing his skull against the porcelain sink. “Let him go. Please.”

Tyler laughs defiantly in my face. His friend, on the other hand, loosens his grip on Yujin, dropping him to the floor. 

“What the fuck are you doing!?” Tyler yells, glaring at his friend. “Pick him back up, you idiot!”

He looks back and forth between me and Tyler, his hands fluttering nervously. “S-sorry, Ty, b-but I’d rather live,” he stutters before running out of the bathroom. 

I pushed past Tyler and kneeled beside Yujin, examining his condition. His chest rose with shaky breaths while his droopy eyelids glanced up at me. A faint grin appears on his face.

“H-hey… S-super Y-Yuno… C-coming to the rescue…” He mutters, wheezing with every word. Enraged, I stand up and turn towards Tyler, dropping my backpack on the ground. His tough guy act completely melts away, revealing a terrified boy underneath.

“M-my dad w-will sue y-you if y-'' His words hang in the air, cut short as my hand clamps onto the back of his head. With a swift, forceful motion, I slam his face onto the tiles of the bathroom walls, the sickening sound of bones breaking echoes between the walls. 

A guttural wail escapes Tyler’s lips, muffled by his hands clutching his broken nose. Thick, crimson liquid seeps through his fingers, coating his hands and face. The metallic scent of blood permeates through the air, a scent that I’m all too familiar with. I shove my foot into the side of his ribs, the impact punctuated by the wrath filling my veins. Tyler crumples to the ground, writhing in pain. The sound of my heart thundered in my ears, drowning out the world around me. Hovering over Tyler, I draw back my elbow, ready to deliver the final blow. With all my power, I drive my elbow into his already battered face. The impact sends a shockwave throughout his body, knocking him out cold.

I stand over his unconscious body, the acrid taste of adrenaline lingering on my tongue, and slowly unclench my fists. I swallowed hard, attempting to steady my breathing while the ringing in my ears faded away. The anger I once felt is now replaced with a slight guilt as my mind travels back to Minji, her unapproving expression from my fight with Bryce echoing in my mind. I shake my head and turn my attention back to Yujin.

Kneeling beside him, I carefully sit him up against the wall. “Can you stand?” I ask, my throat feeling dry from the sight of his battered-up form. Yujin tries to stand up on his own but groans in pain from the slightest movements. 

I turn around, offering him my back. “Get on. I’ll carry you to the nurse.” Carefully, he wraps his arms around my neck while I carry him in a piggyback. Grabbing my bag, I step over Tyler’s unconscious form right as a freshman boy enters the bathroom. A look of shock paints his face as he scans the blood on the wall and the body on the floor. His body shivers in fear as I loom over him, his legs frozen in place, preventing him from escaping.

I try my best to look less threatening and give him what I hope is a reassuring smile. “He slipped and fell. I’m sure he’ll be fine.” I pat his shoulder and exit the bathroom, Yujin resting on my back.

______________________________________________________________

My already sullied faith in the education system manages to go even lower as I find the nurse’s office completely empty, with no nurse in sight. I sign in frustration, opting to find help off campus instead of waiting for someone who might never come.

As I round the corner on my way to the exit, I inadvertently bump into a girl, jostling the glasses from her face. “Oh, I’m so sorry about that,” she apologizes, hastily retrieving her glasses from the ground. “Are you alr-” She freezes as she secures her glasses, undoubtedly shocked at the sight of Yujin’s unconscious body. “What did you do to him!?” she exclaims, hurriedly checking on Yujin.

Confused, I took a defensive step back, shielding Yujin from her. “I didn’t do this. It was Tyler McGraw.”

“As if I would believe someone like you. Why didn’t you take him to the nurse!?” She slaps my arm in exasperation. I scoff, slowly becoming more and more irritated.

“The nurse wasn’t there, so unless you’re a doctor or something, get out of my way, or else he might die,” I snapped, glaring at her. Her irate look melts into one of sympathy, a look I’m not used to receiving. 

I clear my throat, attempting to ease the tension. “S-sorry,” I stutter awkwardly. “I just need help. Please.” 

She studies my expression for a moment before sighing, relenting to the urgency of the situation. “There’s a first aid kit in the student council room. Follow me, it’s closer.” I followed her silently, wondering why her face looked so familiar. 

The student council room exuded an air of organized chaos, with papers sprawled out all over the table in the center of the room. The floor was littered with various colored paper scraps, a by-product from the posters advertising prom that line the hallways. A whiteboard on the far end of the room was covered with notes, important due dates, and random drawings. On the opposite side of the room, a well-worn green couch sat, its fading color a testament to years of use by both former and current student council members.

The student council girl grabbed a first aid kit from a cabinet while I gently lay Yujin down on the couch. His chest slowly rises and falls with each shaky breath. 

“Th-thank… Thank you… Y-Yuno…” he wheezes in a strained voice. Yujin reaches out with a trembling hand, finding mine in a weak grasp. An unfamiliar tenderness wells up within me as I squeeze his hand reassuringly. The girl sits beside Yujin and begins delicately cleaning the dried blood from Yujin’s face. She meticulously applies antiseptic to his cuts, the clinical scent stinging my nose.

As she worked, her eyes briefly flickered toward me. “So,” she starts, her tone measured. “What happened to him?”

A heavy sigh escapes my lips as I relive the past hour in my head. “Tyler and one of the other guys on the football team were beating him up in the bathroom, so I stepped in and…” My words trail off as I catch the unmistakable glare she’s directing at me. I gulp, suddenly feeling sheepish in front of her. Shaking her head, she diverts her attention back to aiding Yujin.

“I don’t know what Minji sees in you,” she mutters under her breath. My ears burn at the mention of Minji, and then it hits me - this girl is one of her friends I saw two days ago (Danielle, I think). Despite not talking to her at the time, I remember the distinct icy stare she gave me that day.

“H-how is Minji?” I stutter awkwardly. I didn’t get a chance to talk to her this morning after the incident last night, except in the library where I… My body shivers at the embarrassing memory.

Danielle abruptly stands up, staring daggers at me from behind her frames. Despite being much shorter, I suddenly felt like an insignificant bug as she loomed over me. “I don’t know what you're planning here, but you better stay away from Minji. She has enough going on already and she doesn’t need a troublemaker like you to add to that,” she snapped, fire in her eyes. We stood there in tense silence for what felt like years before she went back to tending Yujin’s wounds. 

I open my mouth to argue, but stop, considering her words. What was I planning with Minji? We’re not exactly friends, but we’re not strangers either. I mean, I slept over at her house. Hell, we slept in the same bed together. What could she even gain from being close to me? My head begins to ache as I get more and more confused.

Danielle gets up from the couch, breaking me from my thoughts. “I did all I could with the first aid kit. I think it’s best to alert his parents,” she states.

Yujin, with the very little energy he has left, shakes his head. “N-no… Don’t… D-don’t tell… m-my parents…” he grunts. 

Danielle frowns. “Why not?”

“I-I live w-with… M-my grandma… D-don’t… Worry her… P-please…” A single tear rolls down from his swollen eye. Danielle holds his hand reassuringly, her expression full of sympathy.

“Okay. I won’t,” she assures before turning to me, her expression hardening instantly. “He can rest here for the rest of the day. I’ll let his teachers know to excuse him from their classes. You, on the other hand, need to go back to class. I’ll watch over him.”

I nod, surrendering Yujin to her care. Despite her intense distrust toward me, I acknowledge that she can do a better job of taking care of him than I ever could. Grabbing my bag, I leave the student council room, stealing one last glance at Yujin. He grins and gives me a small wave right as I close the door.

A splotch of red stains my sleeve, a symbol of the violence I committed. Feeling disgusted at my lack of self control, I roll it up to hide the part of me others are scared of.

______________________________________________________________

The bell rings, signaling the end of the school day. I quickly grab my things and make my way towards the student council room, the crowd parting as I walk by. Upon barging in, I find the room empty aside from a folded-up note on the couch with my name on it. Curious, I unfolded it and it read:

Hey Yuno, thanks for saving me again. I owe you one, big time! Danielle said her mom is a nurse and she offered to check me out for free so I don’t burden my grandma with any hospital bills. Her mom is giving me a ride home from school early, but I didn’t want to leave without saying anything, so I’m writing this note to you. Danielle and I talked a lot after you left and she’s really nice! I tried to convince her that you’re a cool guy, but she still seems skeptical. Don’t worry though, I’ll change her mind eventually :) Anyway, my hand is starting to hurt now, so I’ll end the note here. See ya tomorrow! - Yujin

I smirk to myself and fold the note, placing it in my pocket. As I place the note inside, I feel something strange and smooth, and I suddenly remember - Minji’s phone. With everything that went on with Yujin, I completely forgot to return her phone. Rushing out of the building, I scan the courtyard, looking for Minji, but she’s nowhere in sight. I flinch at a tap on my shoulder and turn to see two more of Minji’s friends - the tall one and the one that looks like a cat.

“Hello!” the taller one greets with a bright smile. “Your Minji’s friend, right? Haerin told me to get your attention. I’m Hyein by the way, it’s nice to meet you again!” She sticks out her hand, which I clumsily shake. The shorter girl, Haerin, steps in front of her and stares at me with an odd, unreadable expression that sends a shiver down my spine.

“You are looking for Minji,” she states matter-of-factly.

I stagger backward, taken aback by her accuracy. “How did y- never mind. Do you know where she is?”

“She went home early,” Hyein says. “Her parents are flying from their business trip today, so she rushed home to go see them.”

I nod and turn to leave before Haerin stops me. “What’s your relationship with Minji?” she interrogates.

“We’re uhh…” I hesitate, uncertain about my answer. Shaking my head, I decide to change the subject. “Minji left her phone in the library. I’m just trying to return it.”

Haerin’s eyes narrow, studying my expression for a moment. The hair on the back of my neck stands on end as her feline eyes stare into my soul. Minji’s friends always find a way to make me feel uncomfortable.

Hyein steps in, smacking Haerin on the shoulder. “We’ll let you go on then. Tell Minji we said hi!” She tugs Haerin away, nodding apologetically. It looks like she’s the only normal out of Minji’s friends.

As I walk along the familiar path towards her house, the once serene blue sky suddenly fills with gray clouds, reminding me of my first meeting with Ms. Student Council President. If I had just left the detention room instead of offering to walk her home, would fate still have pushed us together? Would she have gotten hurt last night if I hadn’t bumped into her by chance? In the grand scheme of things, what does meeting Minji Kim mean? Droplets of rain start to fall as I ponder these questions, the weight of uncertainty bearing down on me like the rain clouds above. The thread of my life has changed directions after meeting Minji, now woven with hers, for better or for worse. 

Before I knew it, I found myself in front of her house, an unfamiliar and expensive-looking car in her driveway that must belong to her parents. I gawk at it for a moment, wondering how loaded her family is, before knocking on the front door. 

The door swings open, revealing a tall and impeccably groomed man, donning a perfectly tailored suit that I’ve only seen in movies. His eyes, sharp and calculating, seem to dissect me with every glance. “Hello there, can I help you?” he greets, his deep voice as polished as his appearance.

I gulp, my confidence dwindling in the face of his stature. Everything about him reminds me of a world of privilege and opulence that I could never hope to be a part of. “U-uh, hi, I-I’m Yumo- I mean Yuno,” I stammer, my throat suddenly becoming dry.

He raises an eyebrow in concern. “Okay… Can I help you, Yuno?”

I shake my head, mentally facepalming. “R-right, sorry, uh Minji forgot her phone in the library, I’m just here to return it.” I take the phone out of my pocket and show it to him, my hand trembling slightly, betraying my nerves.

He squints, scrutinizing my expression with an intensity that could rival Medusa’s. A woman - Minji’s mother - glides into view from behind him, adorned in fabrics that are equally as elegant and intimidating as Mr. Kim’s. 

“Who’s at the door, honey?” she asks him, her voice exuding authority and lavishness. I suddenly felt self-conscious in front of the pair, crossing my arms to cover my shabby-looking school uniform.

“He’s a classmate of Minji’s. He says he’s returning her phone which she forgot in the library,” Mr. Kim says, his eyes still nitpicking my every move. 

“A friend of Minji’s, how wonderful!” Ms. Kim exclaims. “Come in dear, let’s have a little chat.” She gave me a warm welcoming smile, yet lingering underneath the surface, there was a subtle glint of concealed intentions that sent a shiver up my spine.

“U-um, okay…” I reluctantly accepted, fearing the consequences if I declined. Ms. Kim ushered me inside her home, unaware that this was the third time I’d been here in a row. At this point, I’ve seen more of Minji’s house than I have my own.

“Minji dear, your friend is here,” Ms. Kim calls out. 

“Is it Hanni? I told her she didn’t have to-” Minji rounds the corner, and our eyes lock in a moment suspended in time. She’s dressed in an elegant white blouse that amplifies the innocence of her natural beauty, paired with a simple black skirt that accentuates the grace in her every movement. Minji exuded a completely different aura compared to when she’s wearing her school uniform or the oversized T-shirts she wears as pajamas. It was almost as if she was a different person entirely.

“Y-Yuno! What are you doing here?” She asks, a hint of anxiety in her voice.

I snap out of my trance and hand her the phone. “You forgot your phone in the library. Hanni asked me to hand it to you.”

“Oh my god, thank you so much! I’ve been looking everywhere for it!” Her face lights up in a grateful smile that makes my heart skip a beat. My cheeks flare up with warmth and the corners of my lips instinctively curl upwards, which I try to hide with my hands.

“Yeah no problem, I should probably get going now-” As I turn to leave, Ms. Kim places a hand on my shoulder, stopping me

“Yuno dear, why don’t you stay for some tea? Sanghoon and I would love to get to know another one of Minji’s friends.” Despite her cheery tone, there was something in her voice that let me know she wasn’t just asking - she was commanding. I reluctantly comply, taking a seat on the couch.

“Minji, come help me in the kitchen,” Ms. Kim commands, pulling Minji with her. Minji gives me a sympathetic look before she disappears, leaving me alone with her father. Mr. Kim sits on a reclining chair, leaning forward as he stares me down. I fought guys that were triple my size before, yet none of them intimidated me as much as he did.

“So,” he begins, his expression unreadable. I gulp as I await the inevitable onslaught of questions. “What are your grades like, Yumo?

“U-uh, it’s Yuno. Sir,” I stammer. He grins at me with amusement, like a predator playing with his food.

“My apologies, Yuno.” Mr. Kim leans back in his chair, a sign that he doesn’t view me as a threat. Even with his relaxed demeanor, I couldn’t let my guard down.

“R-right, u-uh my grades are alright.” I clasp my hands together in an attempt to hide my trembling. He raises an eyebrow at my answer, unconvinced. My gut is telling me that I said something wrong.

“What are your goals for the future?” He continues.

“I-I’m not really sure yet. Still thinking about it,” I lie. Up until recently, I’d always assume I would die young from getting mixed in with the wrong crowd, so I never even humored the thought of actually having a future.

“That’s normal for kids your age,” Mr. Kim says, nodding in understanding. “You might wanna hurry up though; it’s best to get a headstart on college.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, his genuine advice easing my nerves a bit. However, I could still feel alarms going off in my head, the tension in the room at dangerously high levels. Something was hiding underneath their kind facade that made the hair on the back of my head stand up on end.

“I’m sure you were expecting me to ask you this, but what is your relationship with my daughter?” He folds his arms, expectantly awaiting my answer. 

I open my mouth to respond, but nothing comes out. The answer to the question has evaded me the entire day, my mind clouded with uncertainty like the rain clouds outside. It would have been easier for me to lie and make up an answer, but my gut was stopping me. I needed an answer, right here and right now.

I take a deep breath to clear my mind, hoping the answer will come to me at the last second. “Minji and I are-”

“The tea is ready!” Minji swoops in, briskly placing a tray of mugs on the coffee table. “Actually, I forgot to tell you this, but Yuno and I are working on a project for science class.” My eyes widen with confusion, but before I can react, Minji grabs me by the sleeve and pulls me up the stairs. “We’ll be in my room if you need us!” she announces. I catch a glimpse of her parents’ bewildered look right before we turn the corner. She pushes me into her room, shutting the door behind her. 

The walls of her bedroom were covered in posters of various singers and groups with odd names, like “Red Velvet” and “Twice”. Various stuffed animals were neatly arranged on top of her bed, a testament to her meticulous nature as student council president. A desk sat in front of the window, its surface covered with random stickers, polaroids with her friends, and sticky notes containing due dates and reminders. I would’ve been impressed with how cozy the room was, if it weren’t for the fact that I was inside MINJI’S BEDROOM, alone with MINJI.

A thousand- No, a million questions fill my head as I glance at Minji, who’s begun pacing nervously around the room. “U-uh, Minji?”

“I’M SORRY, I PANICKED!” She covers her mouth almost immediately after her outburst, offering an apologetic look. Taking a breath, she sits on her bed, fiddling with her fingers. “I’m sorry about my parents, they can be a bit much, even for me. Especially my dad. I’m sure he means well, but he has a tendency to push his ideologies onto others. I suppose he is a businessman after all.” Minji grabs a stuffed bear toy, holding it for comfort. I bite my lip in an attempt to stifle a grin at how… “cute” she looked.

“It’s cool, I didn’t even notice,” I lied, feeling the sudden urge to look impressive in front of her. Instead of looking impressed, however, she giggles in my face.

“No offense, Yuno, but I could hear you stuttering from the kitchen.” My entire face burns red from her words. I pretend to inspect one of her posters in an attempt to hide my embarrassed expression. 

“Sooo… Why did you tell them we had a science project together?” I ask, changing the subject. “I’m not even taking a science class this year.”

Minji sighs, squeezing her bear toy. “My parents are always hypercritical of my friends, they have been since I was born. If they find even a single flaw, they’ll tell me I can’t be friends with them anymore. Hanni is the exception, of course, they couldn’t get rid of her no matter how hard they tried,” she explains, chuckling at her own joke. “I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable, so I lied to get you out of there.”

There’s that word again - “Friend”. This whole time, I had been thinking about whether or not I thought of Minji as a friend. But… Did Minji see me as a friend? The thought was unfathomable, but I needed to know the answer.

“Minji,” I say, getting her attention. She looks up at me expectantly, her dark brown eyes making my heart flutter. “A-are we… friends?” I avert my gaze, awaiting the rejection. To my surprise, the rejection never comes.

“Of course we are! It would be weird if we weren’t friends after everything we’ve been through,” she states.

My body suddenly felt lighter, as if a thousand-pound weight had lifted off of my shoulders. The question that has been stuck in my mind all day finally had an answer. My lips instinctively curl into a smile, the first one I’ve had in a long while.

Minji giggles at my reaction. “I’ve never seen you smile before, Yuno. You should smile more, it’s nice,” she compliments. The room falls silent as a warm, pink hue graces both of our faces. Minji covers her face with the bear toy while I turn towards the wall, hiding the goofy smile that continues to grow on my face. I had been called a plethora of things under the sun - son of a bitch, motherfucker, and piece of shit, to name a few. Never in the last four years of my existence has anyone complimented my smile. 

A strange and unfamiliar feeling bubbles in my chest. It wasn’t fear, anxiety, or anger; It was happiness. Minji Kim had given me a compliment, and it made me happy. I can’t help but wonder if I had knocked one of my own screws loose during my altercation with Tyler.

Minji looks up from her bear, her face still as pink as cotton candy. However, her face instantly darkens with concern as she tosses her bear on the bed and grabs my arm.

“Yuno, is that… blood?” she asks, inspecting my sleeve. Unknowingly, my sleeve had unfurled, revealing the crimson stain. The joy from Minji’s compliment sours into guilt as her worried eyes meet mine. “A-are you alright? Did you get hurt or something?”

My throat grows dry as I search for an answer, my mind devolving into chaos. The thought of her disappointed face if I told her the truth sent a pang through my chest, a pain more acute than any punch I’ve ever received. Frozen in place, I stood helpless as the weight of my actions slowly crushed me.

A knock at the door jolts me from my thoughts, and Minji’s mother peeks her head in, breaking the uneasy silence. “Hey you two, just wanted to know how the project is going. You left so abruptly that the tea got cold.”

Minji swiftly steps forward, shielding my blood-stained sleeve from her mother’s view. “Sorry about that, mom. The project is going well, we’re just brainstorming some ideas right now,” she says, her composure unbreaking.

“Alright then. Yuno dear, will you be joining us for dinner?”

I clear my throat, attempting to keep up a normal facade. “S-sorry Ms. Kim, but I should probably get going. My dad is waiting for me at home,” I lied. Truthfully, I have no idea where my dad is, but that didn’t matter at the moment. I roll up my sleeve and walk past her, beelining it towards the front door, only to be greeted with a curtain of pouring rain. To add insult to injury, a bolt of lightning rings out from the sky.

Ms. Kim places a hand on my shoulder from behind, and as I glance back, I catch a subtle tinge in her eyes that sends a shiver down my spine. She hid it well behind her warm smile, but I could tell there was something off about her.

“Oh no, looks like it’s raining,” she says, feigning concern. It was almost as if she somehow made it rain to keep me trapped here. “Why don’t you stay here until the rain dies down? It’ll give us a chance to get to know you better.”

I gulp as she shuts the door, prying me from my chance at freedom. The ominous feeling in the air intensifies as I reluctantly agree to stay, unsure of the web I’m becoming entangled in. Minji’s worried expression mirrors my own as I’m pulled towards the kitchen, the front door fading from view.

[xmasterofmunsonx]

Got Your Number

Summary: You’re Steve Harrington’s older sister and after a rough and tumultuous breakup, you’re back in Hawkins, Indiana. 🌶️

Pairing: Harrington!reader x Eddie Munson

Author’s notes: I REALLY tried hard to make this one into two, but it just started flowing and I felt like it made more sense like this. I know it’s a lot going on but I don’t know I couldn’t stop. Hope y’all like it ❤️

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI!!), language, drinking, smoking, smut, etc., anxious feelings talked about a lot

Word count: 9.5k and I am not sorry LOL

VI.

The shrill sound of the phone in your bedroom woke you up the next morning. You groaned as the light peeked through the pink curtains that had hung over the same windows for most of your life. You let it ring, and ring, and ring. Finally it stopped. Then it started again. Everyone must be gone for the day.

“Harrington residence?” You asked, sleep thick in your voice. You drank a sip of water as you waited for the caller to finally reveal themselves.

“Hey.” It was Eddie, and he sounded rough. “Good morning, I mean. Or, whatever time it is.” He chuckled, but you didn’t return the laughter.

“‘Morning.” You said, as you plopped back onto your bed, twirling the cord around your finger.

“I’m really sorry about last night. Like, incredibly sorry. Your brother laid into me last night and Hopper has already called me this morning too.”

“Oh, so you wouldn’t have apologized if Steve and Hopper wouldn’t have made you?” Your attitude was strong this morning, and you already knew you’d regret being this bitchy to him as soon as you asked the question.

“They didn’t make me, Jesus. I’m just admitting I know I was an asshole to you, I got way too drunk last night, and I can’t believe I did that instead of worrying about where you were and what was going on with you and Caleb out there. M’sorry. I really am.”

“It’s not okay, Eddie. If that’s what you want me to say.” He sighed at the same time you did. “I don't think you get how scary last night was for me. Having not only Charlie there, but all of his friends too? They could’ve all easily taken me off and something would’ve happened.”

“I said I was sorry.” He said, his voice was quick.

“And I’m saying okay, I hear you, but I don’t know what you want me to say back, Eddie. I’m pissed off that you were so irresponsible.”

“Thanks for the congratulations on being asked to sign to a label.” He scoffed out after a few moments of silence.

“Fuck, what has gotten into you? Where is this attitude coming from?” You snapped at him as you sat up in your bed. “Did you just call me to see how mad you could make me again today? This is not what I signed up for, Eddie.”

“What do you think you signed up for, then?”

“A nice boyfriend for one. One that was my best friend, and he was never mean to me, or-”

“What about all of those times in high school-”

“FUCK, Eddie. It’s too early for this bullshit. I’m hanging up, and whenever you can figure out what the hell crawled up your ass, then we can talk. Bye.”

Fuck, you didn’t know what had gotten into him. A few seconds after you hung up the phone, it rang again.

“What?!?” You answered.

“You are just like your brother with the attitude, damn.” It was Dustin, you could tell by the slight lisp in his voice.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry. Eddie just called me and he was… he was being a jerk, so I thought it was him calling me back yet again.”

“No, it’s just me. I was calling you because I think we figured something out with him.”

“Is he gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, he’ll be fine. We actually called the lab, or what’s left, and told them what was going on. He just needs to go and uh, talk to them about it. El said she can’t see where anything is like…” he laughed to himself before continuing on, “I sound crazy saying this, but there’s nothing in his head that we should worry about. Like before, Vecna kinda got in peoples heads before he’d kill them or something but she can’t see him in Eddie’s, so he’s really dead. She said she used her powers last night, and she can kind of… eavesdrop in on dreams or something basically, and she was there in his last night to check on him and uh, it was pretty fucked up.”

You stayed silent for a few moments, “so the scars hurting don’t mean anything?”

“No, they’re probably just healing still, and the dreams are so intense he’s probably re-feeling it all again too.”

Shit. You kinda, actually sorta felt really bad for him now. He was probably worked up this morning more from his dreams than anything else, and you didn’t even think about that, but he still didn’t need to be an asshole to you.

“Hey Dustin, I need to go. Thanks for calling, I’m sure I’ll see you soon!” You hung up before you had a chance to hear him get out the last few words. You dialed Eddie’s number, and he picked up on the second ring, sounding much calmer.

“Hello? Munson here.”

“Hey.” You said quietly.

“Hey.” He matched your tone of voice.

“Sorry, I forgot how bad mornings can be for you and I’m sure-”

“No, you don’t have to apologize. Please don’t. I was an asshole right after I told you I wasn’t like him. I did have a bad night but I shouldn’t have taken that out on you. Sometimes I wake up from a nightmare and because of the panic I can act completely differently. I’m sorry if that scared you.” He sounded a little somber. “I understand if you’re mad at me.”

“I’ll get over it.” You laid back on the pillows of your bed again, and stared up at the popcorn ceiling of your room, trying to count the dots. “Wanna tell me about it as practice before you go talk to them?”

“So Dustin already called you too?”

“Mhm. I think you should go.”

“I’m going to when I have the time. I’m not up for talking about it right now.”

You respected his decision but you knew he had to talk about it eventually. “Alright. So tell me about this record deal?”

He went on and on for god knows how long about everything that had transpired the previous night, about their first album being recorded in the city, about a first tour as an opening band, and about how long the contract would last for- and what quota they had to fulfill in those years.

“You know, I did do some law stuff in college, only majored in it, and I’m being forced to work at my dad’s law office starting tomorrow, right? I wouldn’t mind combing through the contract for any small print you might have missed or been upset with. Even my dad or one of his coworkers could look it over.”

“See, I was drunk last night but I wasn’t that drunk. I did remember that, and none of us technically signed anything, I told him to come back in a few weeks. So I wasn’t completely blitzed out of my mind, we didn’t really sign anything but we were likely going to.” A deep chuckle came through the phone and you felt a swirl in your belly at the noise. “So, you gonna come with me?”

“Come with you… where?”

“To the city, on tour- everywhere. I don’t wanna leave you behind.” He was as serious as a heart attack and you knew it.

“Don’t you think this might be a little soon?” Everything seemed to be going fast paced in the last week, when you were the one who wanted to take things slow to not fuck it up. “I don’t know if I can go back to the city, Eddie. It’s too much for me. I could see him anywhere-”

“Baby, it’s Indianapolis, not Chicago.”

Oh, fuck. What would you do, surely you’d get cut off from your parents. There’s absolutely no way they’d be ok with this, tarnishing the Harrington name after you already fucked it up by breaking things off with Charlie. They’d surely disown you.

“You there?” Eddie sounded concerned.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m here. I’m just, it’s a lot to ask, Eddie. I’m going to have to think about it.”

“Well, I’ve gotta run this contract over to you today so you can take it to work tomorrow, or I could pick you up in the morning and take you to work?” He had a glimmer of hope in his voice. “This kinda thing usually takes a few months he said, so it’s not like I’m going anywhere soon.”

“How about you come pick me up today, and take me to work in the morning?”

He excitedly answered, smiling through the phone “Really? You don’t hate me?”

“No I don’t, but I do want to see you before I start this boring desk 9-5 job.”

“See you in an hour?”

“See you then.” You both hung up the phone, and you made your way downstairs where there were Sunday breakfast leftovers on the counter left for you. Your parents had left a note, “running errands for the day, be back tonight.” You rolled your eyes at their absence, yet again. You knew your dad had a business trip again next week, so that’s probably why he wanted you to start this week to get trained.

“You look rough.” Steve shocked you as he came up behind you, his bed head was more wild than you’d ever seen.

“Same goes for you. Why didn’t you answer the phone ringing earlier? Thought I was home alone.”

“Not so lucky. I unplug mine when I’m sleeping, so I didn’t even hear it. Your elephant stomping down the stairs woke me up more than anything.”

You rolled your eyes as you bit into a piece of crispy bacon.

“Eddie called and apologized this morning. Said he’d come over here soon to get me and I’m gonna stay with him tonight, then he’ll take me to work in the morning.”

Steve raised his eyebrows, “Listen, I know you’re my older sister, and I know you two have been, or were friends forever, but do you think this is going too fast? Don’t you need, need some time maybe?”

You furrowed your brows at your brother, “I think that’s none of your business, but thank you for the concern. We’re just spending time together.”

“Yeah, I know. But you’re over there all the time already and it’s barely been any time at all.”

“And? You can go around on dates every weekend and sleep with a different girl and no one bats an eye? Where’s this coming from? I’m the one on my period right now, I didn’t know you and Eddie had synced up too.”

“I’m sorry. Just trying to look out for both of you.” You both picked at the breakfast quietly, avoiding each other's glares. “Gonna go shower and get ready before he gets here.”

“Mhm.” Steve said with his mouth full of pancakes.

-

“So Stevie thinks we’re going too fast?” Eddie asked in a taunting voice as he handed you the joint as you swung together on the back porch swing.

“Guess so. Because he knows so much about successful relationships.”

“You think so too though, because you said you wouldn’t-”

You playfully put your hand on his mouth to shut him up, “Please. We’re having a good afternoon. I don’t wanna talk about this yet.” He watched you through squinted eyes as you took a hit off the joint and held it in your lungs for an impressive amount of time, then passed it back to him.

“So what do you wanna talk about?” Eddie leaned in closer to your side and slipped his arm around your shoulders, and you felt cozy enough to lean into him.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? There you go again with that cute little, ‘nothing.’” He mocked your tone with a high pitched voice, which earned him a light slap on the chest. “Hey, watch it. I’m healing wounds under here- don’t make them bleed again.”

“Eddie, they’re scars, not scabs.” You rolled your eyes as he held the joint up to your lips again, and you took another hit, doing the same as you did earlier. “I’m good after that one.”

“Yeah? You feeling good?” His voice was warm in your ear, and you could feel the heat radiating from his body.

“Mhm.” You answered and closed your eyes, tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder. “Really good.”

“Really wanna make you feel good again, baby.” He was rubbing his other hand on your thigh, and with each up and down motion he was getting closer and closer to your heat.

“Eddie, I-”

“There’s other things we can do.”

“What? I’ll make a mess.”

“I don’t mind a mess, but I have an idea.” He said with a smirk in his voice. You opened your eyes and looked at him, he was already looking down at you, his hand had stopped moving and was now resting high up on your thigh. It crept to the inside, and you felt yourself squeezing your legs together to keep him from feeling anything more. “Relax.” He smashed out the joint and stood up, offering you his hand. “C’mon. My room.”

“Nu-uh.” You shook your head, and crossed your arms over your chest.

He leaned down to meet your face, his eyes were a little bloodshot from the extra hits he’d taken between your few, his tolerance being higher than yours. “Wanna be my good girl?” You felt your stomach drop, and your body turning to complete goo at his words. “Or am I gonna have to pick you up and carry you? ‘Cause I’m gonna get you there one way or another, baby.”

You took his extended hand and pulled yourself up as best as you could, your knees already feeling weak at just his words.

You’d never been much of a girl for dirty talk in the bedroom, or at all. But your experience was limited, and it was a little intimidating that Eddie was clearly somehow more experienced in this department than you. He knew the words to say, and how to say them, and it made you wonder who, how, and-

“Hey, pretty girl. Get out of that head of yours. I can hear you thinking. Anything you don’t wanna do, just say it and we’ll stop.” You’d made it to his bedroom now, and he had his hands resting gently on your shoulders.

“Okay.” You said quietly.

“Now, I asked you out there-” He took a step closer to you, and put his heavy pointer finger under your chin and lifted your gaze to meet his, “are you gonna be my good girl?” You nodded, actually stunned at the effect that his words had on you. He slung his jacket off his shoulders, and pulled his shirt off. You quietly gasped at seeing the scars all over his muscular back, shoulders, his chest and stomach as he turned around to meet you. Your fingers reached out to trace the pink lines mapped out over his abdomen, and he reached up to pull your hand away.

“Eddie, I’m sorry-”

“I figured you gotta see them soon enough. We’ll work our way there. Take off your top, baby.” His fingers danced at the hem of your ribbed black t-shirt. He slowly teased his way up your body with the shirt until he pulled it up and over your head. “No bra? Not what I expected from you, Harrington.” He started kissing your neck with excitement as his cold hands were snaking their way up your sides, and he paused, “you sure you’re okay? I know you said you hadn’t done much with him, or anyone else. Just please stop me-”

“Eddie, just shut the fuck up and kiss me.” You lunged at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and he pulled your body close to his. Your bare skin colliding with his felt so good, but it was so different than what you were used to. You felt your nipples harden at the arousal that was pooling in your belly again, and it peaked again when Eddie was already moaning into your kisses. One of his hands slid up your side, to the front of your ribcage where he finally cupped your breast in his hand.

You both moaned at the feeling, “fuck, your tits feel so good.” He kneaded at it with fervor, and moved on to pinching your nipple. You moaned out again, breaking the kiss. “You like that, baby?”

All you could get out was a nod, you’d never had your tits played with before now by someone else. “Get on the bed, and get those jeans off- just the jeans.” You scooted out of your jeans, and sat on his bed, watching him slowly prowl over to you. “Lay back.” You scooted back and rested your head on his pillows as you anxiously watched him crawl over you to meet you, he leaned in and kissed you again, this time it was hungrier, sloppier, and his hand was more rough as it groped your chest. He broke the kiss to attack your neck, then your collarbones, and then he finally put his mouth on one of your nipples. He sucked it into his warm, heated mouth and you felt his tongue rolling around your nipple, causing your back to arch. He pulled off with a smile on his face, then blew air into the wet tit and you watched as your nipple became more hard.

“Fuck, that feels good.” You moaned out softly, and you watched as he went down on the other one, still playing with the first so it wasn’t ignored. You watched him go back and forth between the two for a few minutes, and clearly Eddie could’ve spent half the day with your tits in his mouth but you were growing anxious to get off. You tugged his hair to get him to meet your face, pushing up off the pillows to kiss him deeply again.

“Want you to try something new for me, ‘kay? Since you’re on the rag and all. I’d fuck you right now no problem, but I know you’re a little shy about it, aren’t you?”

You blushed and nodded, “yeah, I’ll try something new.”

“M’gonna sit on the edge of the bed and want you to straddle my thigh. Just one.” And he scooted down to the foot of the bed, and helped you climb onto his thigh- he was still in his black jeans. “Sit down harder, baby. Remember you’re gonna be my good girl, right? Want you to use me. Use my thigh to get yourself off.”

“H-how?” You asked, feeling silly for being in your underwear, straddling your boyfriends leg.

“Shit, you never done this before? Not even with a pillow?” You shook your head, and Eddie placed his hands on your hips. “Just grind on me baby. Back and forth. Whatever feels good, I got you.”

You nodded and started moving against his thigh, feeling the thick fabric rub your cunt in the right ways.

“Fuck, why have I never done this before?” You rolled your head back with your eyes as you rode Eddie’s thigh, stabilizing yourself on his shoulders. His mouth was roaming your upper body, likely leaving hickies everywhere. Your high was making this feel so much better, and you could already feel yourself close to the edge.

“Feel good?” Eddie asked, his lips still moving over your body, kissing and tasting anywhere he could get his mouth on. You nodded and moaned, unable to say anything. “That's my good girl, use my leg to make yourself cum, baby.” You ground yourself harder against the rough fabric and squeezed your thighs closer to his leg to chase your orgasm.

“Fuck!” You yelled as you came undone on his leg, your chest heaving, and your head tucked into the side crook of his neck, where his curls were tickling your face. “How do you know so much?”

“I’ve seen a lotta porn, babe. Your brother works at-”

“Christ, Eddie. I don’t need to know that you rent porn from my brother. Why the fuck does family video have an adult only section?” You earned a chuckle from Eddie as you absentmindedly twirled your fingers through his hair. “I feel so silly about anything like this because everything I’ve ever done before was just… for him. Never about me, never what I wanted, when I wanted, and-”

“And, that’s fucking pathetic. You should have been treated better than that. Your body? I wanna worship every inch of it, your skin is so soft, you’re so beautiful, and I want you to know that.” You were blushing as his hands were still roaming your body.

“Do you want me to, you know, help you?”

“Nah, you don’t have to. I don’t ever expect anything from you.” He smiled and you could feel it as he kissed the top of your shoulder.

-

A few hours later you found yourself sitting at the Munson kitchen table, reading over the rough draft of a contract Eddie had remembered to grab and put in his pocket from the show, while he was down the hall practicing guitar. You took another sip of the cold coffee as you read through the extensive stipulations.

“Hey, Eddie?” You called out. “Eddie?” You said a little louder, and he must have heard you. He came around the corner in his holey jeans, and a loose Iron Maiden t-shirt that had seen better days.

“Yeah?” The look on his face only made you realize how hard it was going to be to break the news.

“I uh, do you mind if I take this with me tomorrow? There’s a few things that I want to get checked out by one of dad’s guys. I just don’t understand this level of l legal talk, and I don’t want you signing something away that you don’t want to.”

You watched his face fall slowly. “Yeah, I think that’s probably for the best. Does it look good to you?”

“Some of it does, but I’m not sure about some of it. You have to be really careful with these lengthy contracts. Sometimes they can really screw you over, and it seems like some statements are negating other things.”

He nodded slowly, scratching at his chin. “You don’t think we should sign it, do you?”

“I’m not saying that exactly, I’m just saying I think it needs to be read through by someone smarter than me who knows more about how this works.” You gestured to the papers in front of you. “I mean, really, this guy just came out of nowhere to find you guys. He could be a total fraud.”

“What do we have to lose though?” He walked closer, leaning against the kitchen counter closest to you.

“A lot. I mean, it says if you don’t fulfill a certain amount of record sales- which, I fully believe you’re capable of- you could owe them a lot of money. Or if you don’t sell a percentage of tickets, they can break the contract. But here, it says-”

“Okay, okay. I get it.” He put his chin in his hand and rested it there, his dark eyes looking at you. “I’m glad you’re smarter than me.”

“I’m not, I just spent years of my life studying this and figuring out how people word these to trick people who haven’t spent years of their life studying.”

“You’ve always been the smart one. Top of the class, you’re the real nerd.” He smiled, slowly walking towards you. “Your campaigns always, always were better than mine.”

“I mean, absolutely they were. But I don’t know about now.”

“Hold on.” Eddie held up a finger and ran out of the kitchen, down the hallway. You heard some rustling and pushed the contract out of your way, your eyes hurting from the small print. “Here.” He said as he plopped the book down on the table.

Your book. Your book from middle school, at that.

“Eddie, how- how do you have this? Did it not get ruined when you lost yours and Wayne’s house?” You ran your fingers over the cover, before you opened it up, immediately recognizing your own handwriting, paired with Eddie’s chicken scratch of notes. “And wait- did you use some of my campaigns?”

“Just a few. Just the good ones, I saved the best ones for when you came back.”

“What if I never did?” You looked up at him as he was beaming a smile at you.

“Somehow I always knew you would.”

-

“Scott, would you mind looking over a few things on this for me?” You walked into your dad’s employee’s office. He was always your favorite of your dad’s friends, he’d seen you and Steve grow up. Scott didn’t have a family of his own at all, so he was present at a lot of your family’s parties and events. He was like a second dad, but a cooler one.

“Sure thing, just shut the door and have a seat. I could use a break from the woes of the Hawkins community. What do we have?”

“So, Eddie, my boyfriend, has been playing in his band for a while-”

“Wait, like, Eddie Munson? Like, devil worshipping, town killer, etc?”

“Yes, that one.” This was not what you expected, or wanted when you came into his office today.

“Oh God, I know your mom loves this. I always told your dad the two of you were gonna be somethin’ one day.”

You blushed, but continued on, “So, at their show the other night this guy approached them with his record label from Chicago. He had a contract ready to go and I’ve looked over it, and some things just don’t seem right. I highlighted everything I questioned but there may be more, and I just needed another opinion about it.”

“Let me see here.” He sat back in his leather desk chair and put his glasses on. You noticed the way his hair had grayed since you’d last seen him, the way his eyes and mouth had crinkled more from the smiling faces you remember him always making. “Your brother doing good?”

“Yeah, he’s doing alright.”

“Glad to be back here?” He asked as he kept reading over the papers.

“Could be worse.”

“I hear ya.” He nodded, reading through the pages. You sat at his desk, fiddling with the hem of your skirt. “Can you give me the rest of the afternoon for this? I have the time, just don’t want you sittin’ here doing nothing. If you want, there’s some paperwork in the basement that we moved from your office down there that needs to be put into the empty file cabinets. Doris has the keys, if you just ask her for them. Your dad left a note of things for you to do today and that was one of them. By the time you get everything filed away, I should be done.”

“Yeah, I can do that. Thanks, Scott.”

“Anytime, sweetheart.” You smiled at the endearing name, coming from anyone else his age it would be creepy but you knew he didn’t mean it that way.

Doris was quite the character. She’d worked as the front desk secretary for the entire time your dad’s firm had been opened. She took her job way too seriously, and she didn’t like many people. But you and your brother just so happened to be two of her favorite people.

“Oh sure, here’s the keys! I’m just so glad you’ll be working with us. Your dad is so proud of you for coming home and working under the family name, you know that?” You shrugged and held back an eye roll. “You remember what door it is, right?”

“Of course. Thanks, Mrs. Doris.” You grabbed the keys from her and rolled your eyes as you walked away, remembering how she used to gloat over your brother anytime she got the chance to, and now she was doing it to you.

You turned the key to the door and went down the stairs, into the well lit basement. It smelled the same from when you were a kid- sometimes you’d have to come up here after school, and your dad had a desk down here for you and Steve to do homework, or color when you two were younger. It would be creepy to some, but you both loved it. You didn’t have to hear your dads boring conference meetings, or him yelling at employees. It was your hiding spot and you felt safe down here.

You easily found the piles of files that were meant to be organized by you- they were stacked on your old desk and disheveled from being moved so hastily down here. You opened up the top drawer to an empty cabinet, and you got to organizing the files alphabetically. These were all of this years cases the office had dealt with, from the beginning of the year to now, and you knew they just wanted them organized by the last name.

You recognized a few of the last names, and being nosy, of course you had to browse through some. You scoffed at the DUIs, and other small “crimes” the office either handled or probably hid from the public eye, until you saw a last name that was all too familiar.

“Munson, Edward - ‘86”

Shit. Shit! What do you do? It was one of the thickest folders you’d picked up in the last hour. You knew what you should do, what was the right thing. But what had Eddie done this year that your dads lawyers would’ve been responsible for defending him for?

You carefully opened the Manila folder, and read the first line.

“Hawkins Lab (plaintiff) vs Edward Munson (defendant) 1986”

“Holy fuck.” You whispered to yourself, carefully turning the next page. “Why would they file a lawsuit against Eddie?” You whispered out loud to no one, as you continued to get through the pages. You heard the door open up the stairs, and you shoved the folder underneath the others, not wanting to put it in a cabinet yet.

“You still busy down here?” Doris asked from the third step. “It’s lunch time and you got someone askin’ to take you out to lunch.”

“What?”

“Some guy with curly hair and a jacket on. Is he trouble? Do I need to get him out of here? Is he the one your dad told me to kick out if we saw him?”

“No, no. Doris, that's Eddie, my boyfriend. Charlie’s the one we want to kick out. I’ll be right up, let me finish tidying these.”

“Oh no, you go on up there and take your lunch. You’ve been down here for about two hours already. The mess can wait.”

“I really don’t mind tidying up a bit before I go.” You told her, trying to delay her and finding a quick, more hidden spot for the files.

“Alright, I’ll tell him you’ll be up in a minute. Don’t take a minute longer!”

“Yeah, sure.” You pretended to rummage around, then grabbed the Munson file and hid it in another file cabinet that was collecting dust. Surely no one would suspect you putting it there.

You walked up the basement stairs, shutting and locking the door behind you, as you shoved the basement key into your pocket. You felt your mind spinning as you walked towards the front, unsure of whether to bring up what you found or not.

“Hey beautiful.” Eddie greeted you with a hug, kiss on the cheek, and a small bouquet of flowers in a small vase in his hand.

“Hey.” You said, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “C’mon, I’ll put these on my desk and we can go to lunch.” You pulled on his hand to tug him with you to your minimally decorated office space that screamed “temporary”.

“Oh hey, I was just looking for you!” Scott said as he walked around a corner. “And you!” He pointed at Eddie, who then pointed at himself. “You have a free minute?”

“We were about to go to lunch.” You said as you set your flowers down on your desk and picked up your purse. “Eddie, this is Scott- he’s worked with dad for forever, and I had him read over the contract from the label for you this morning. Scott, this is Eddie.” You observed the two exchanging glances at each other, then they introduced themselves. You could tell by Eddie’s faltering voice he was putting on a front- they had definitely met before. Maybe it had been a long time ago that they’d crossed paths, but you had a feeling you needed to get to that file.

“Won’t take but a minute. Have a seat.” He gestured towards the seats in your office, and you took a seat behind your desk, wanting to be able to watch the two interact.

“So uh, seems here we’ve got an entirely too controlling contract. I’ve gone through everything Harrington already combed through, added more comments, and even found a few more things. It seems to me like this guys label is pretty scummy, I don’t know that I’d take them up on this one.” You watched Eddie’s shoulders deflate as the contract was placed into his hands. “The choice is ultimately yours, but once you read through you’ll see what I’m talking about. I don’t think it’s the right one, I don’t trust that they’re not trying to take everything you guys have.” Scott eyed Eddie, waiting for him to look up at him from the paperwork.

“Well, I appreciate the time you took going through it. I’ll take it to the guys at practice tonight and we’ll talk it over to see how everyone’s feeling.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Scott stood up and patted Eddie on the shoulder, “Good to see you.”

“Yeah, nice to meet you too!” Eddie yelled back as Scott exited your office. “Pizza for lunch?”

“Sounds delicious to me.” You followed Eddie out of the office and to his van. He chucked the contract into the back of it, and you watched it fall to the floor.

“Hey, you okay?” You asked, patting his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.” He backed out of his parking spot and started to drive away. “How’s your first day?” Here’s your chance. Perfect time to bring it up.

“Pretty… boring.” You can’t do it. “Scott and Doris had me in the basement organizing some things that were in my office that hastily got thrown down there at some point to make my office look unoccupied. He’s got a whole list of things for me to do if I’m bored. Seems like I’m going to be doing busy work and getting paid for it.”

“That’s some shit. You’re smarter than that.” He said, resting his elbow on the window sill of his door.

“Yeah, I mean I’m sure it’ll get more interesting later. I didn’t expect to get put on any actual cases or anything, but I did expect to be doing more than coffee runs or something like that.”

“They have you running coffee?”

“Absolutely not. It’s just my first day, so I’m not really expecting much. Dad said he’d be in tomorrow morning to get me set up. I think today is just a day of busy work since I wasn’t expected to start working so soon. Or at all, even.”

“I’ve got an appointment after lunch.” Eddie blurted out.

“Yeah? Where?” You looked over at him, and he looked nervous as he bit his nails.

“You know where.”

“Oh. You’re actually going? Do you need me to go with you?”

“Steve is. He’s meeting us at lunch.” He quickly replied.

“Oh.” You said as you looked out the window. Eddie was clearly a nervous wreck, and there wasn’t much you had to say to the dull conversation. You two pulled up at the pizza place beside Steve’s car, and he hopped out at the same time you did. A fourth car door shut on the other side of you, and you were met with Jim Hopper.

“What’s going on?” You asked, suddenly confused about this lunch meeting.

“He’s coming too.” Steve spoke up, placing a comforting hand on Eddie’s shoulder as you guys walked into the restaurant.

The four of you sat down at a back booth, you sat across from your brother and Hopper, and Eddie sat beside you.

“So is this like, an intervention? What’s going on?” You felt even more clueless.

“They need to speak to Eddie and have questions about you, so they need you too.” Hopper said.

“What?” You said bluntly as the waitress came up to take your orders- you added on a beer to yours for your nerves.

“Yeah, apparently you’re going to have to answer a few questions since you’ve observed Eddie’s behavior with the nightmares. I’ve gotta go since he’s always calling me, and-”

“How do they know?” You interrupted your brother.

“I told them, when I called to ask them what I needed to do. Then they gave me 20 questions and I panic answered them, not knowing they’d drag you into it. Hopper is going just to make sure no funny business happens. I’m really sorry.” Eddie looked at you with puppy dog eyes.

“Hey, it’s okay. I wanted to go with you if you needed me anyway. You need to talk to someone about this. Maybe they can help you.”

Hopper scoffed. “He needs a real therapist. I’m afraid this is just going to stir some more shit up. I don’t trust these guys, even though the lab is gone. How did just enough of them just survive to stick around to make sure you kids didn’t need anything?”

You four all looked at each other, you being the most clueless of all.

“I suggest being brief. Don’t tell them anymore than they ask. Don’t tell them who you hang out with, who you see, or where you work. Especially you, Harrington.” Hopper pointed at me. “They already know your family, but they’re gonna be hounding you for all they can.”

“Why me? Why not Steve? He’s the one who went down there into their whole, alternate universe world… thing.”

“Because of your j-” Hopper started.

“Because they didn’t know he had a sister, and they thought it was weird you came back to Hawkins. They want to know what you know about it all.” Eddie cut Hopper off immediately, and you didn’t miss the look on Steve’s face. He knew something too.

You looked at Eddie, who was trying so hard to lie to you.

“Would it have to do with the huge file at my dad’s law firm labeled Hawkins Lab vs Munson? The one from, I dunno- 1986?” You shrugged, looking at the men at the table.

“Fuck, we don’t have enough time for this.” Steve ran his hands through his hair.

“So you were just going to casually leave out that dad fucking defended Eddie against the LAB?! What were they trying to say happened? Both of you- you both lied to me!” You tried not to raise your voice, and thankfully the kitchen sounds were loud enough as the lunch crowd picked up. “You could’ve told me that when you dropped the whole Hawkins-has-a-creepy-second-life-going-on-underneath-it bomb, and it would’ve been fine? But now I’m working there and these scary lab people are going to ask about it?”

“See, you don’t work there. You work at Family Video with Steve.” Hopper corrected you.

“That would’ve been nice to know!” You raised your voice again. “So what case did they bring out against Eddie?”

“I told you, I almost died down there. I did. But I came back through, and no one that ever died down there came back up to Hawkins and they created this huge case trying to make it look like I was the one who created the gates- because of the whole town freak thing, right? Believable.” He took a deep sigh, “Scott defended me. Your dad couldn’t, because it was considered a conflict of interest because they knew we used to be friends.”

“What, how did they know that?”

“They know everything. Well, they used to, they’d been watching our town and listening to everything for years before we discovered what they were really doing with their experiments. With a lot less people they’ve become a small organization, and they’re basically sticking around to see if any other activity starts to happen, and observe and be ‘helpful’ if anyone affected by the ‘earthquake’ needs help.” Steve answered.

“How can you trust them?” You asked.

“Your dad’s firm won against them in Eddie’s favor, so they’re at the mercy of him.” Jim spoke, and you looked between the three guys again, completely baffled, yet again, at how much had happened in the short time of you being back.

“I need to get some fresh air.” You pushed your way out of the booth and fled outside, forgetting your jacket at the booth. You felt yourself warming up out of rage as you walked over to the alley beside the restaurant. You grounded yourself against the cold brick wall and closed your eyes, taking a few deep breaths to avoid an anxiety attack.

“You good?” Eddie appeared out of nowhere and you jumped out of your skin.

“No, I’m not good.” You answered him as you opened your eyes. “Eddie, what the fuck?!”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“Sorry for leaving out a huge, major detail, and everyone’s just been pretending since I’ve been home?! This is not okay. This is not why I came home. I came home for some normalcy, for LESS drama than I had in the city. And it’s been non-fucking-stop since I got back. I don’t know that I even had this much happen in high school.” You ran a hand through your hair nervously, “what am I supposed to do?! I can’t keep finding things out, Eddie. I can’t do this. I can’t keep on walking around on eggshells whether is your short temper, or my parents, or avoiding running into anyone from high school, or the fucking upside down bullshit!? Why is all of this happening as soon as I come home?!” You cried out to him as he stared at you with a blank face and no answers. You put your hands on his shoulders and felt yourself pushing against him. “Someone give me some fucking answers!” Eddie grabbed your hands, and you felt your body freeze. What was he about to do? He placed them gently around his neck, before he wrapped one arm, then another, around your body and slowly pulled you into him, hugging your shaking form.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, baby. I should’ve died down there. I didn’t want you dragged into this, but I let it slip on the phone this morning when I called them because I thought it was the right thing to do to get help. If I call a normal shrink, they’re gonna commit me for thinking I’m fucking insane for what I’d tell them. I can’t call anyone else. Only your family, the kids, Robin, and a few others really know what happened during the so-called earthquake, okay? We have to be so careful about this. I’m sorry.” He hugged you as he let out a cry.

“Don’t you ever say you should’ve died down there.” You muttered into his chest.

“No, I should have. I quite frankly should not have made it. They thought I was dead for the longest time, til we all started having nightmares. Then when they realized I was alive, their case was brought against me, in case the truth got out, they thought that their asses would be covered by shifting the blame to me.”

You paused. Eddie had been carrying this around too, and it didn’t excuse his actions but you could see why he’d been a little more quick tempered and anxious than usual.

“After today, can we just start over and see if things can be normal? I’m really fucking tired.”

“I’d love nothing more than that.” You wiped your tears at his response, and hugged him tighter to you. “We better get in there and eat, they’re expecting us at 1:30.” You nodded as you broke your embrace and followed him back into the restaurant.

-

Another surprise, Scott was at the Hawkins Lab offices. He gave you a sympathetic smile as your eyes met, and you all walked in together to the meeting. Turns out that it wasn’t quite as scary looking as you expected it to be inside, it looked like a normal, plain office space.

“Munson, Harrington?” A lady’s voice called from the desk. “Separate rooms, 103, 104-”

“No, they're all going to be interviewed together in the same room. I’m their lawyer, and I have to be present as well.” Scott slammed his business card down on the desk and slid it towards the lady. She eyed it, and put it back down.

“Follow me.” Okay, maybe it was a little scary. You felt a timid, clammy hand grab yours, and you looked at it to see it was your brother beside you.

“You’re good, okay?” He whispered, knowing you were the anxious one of the two of you. “Let Scott do most of the talking, only answer if you absolutely have to. If you don’t know if you should, just look at him and he’ll give you the go ahead or not.” Clearly your brother had been there before, and knew what to do with these guys.

You nodded and squeezed his hand back before dropping it to your side.

You all entered what looked like a conference room, and took your seats at a long table. Paperwork was everywhere, and you tried to see what some of it was as you walked to your seat beside Eddie, but you couldn’t make anything out.

“They’ll be in shortly.” The lady said before she walked out.

Eddie leaned in and whispered, “the whole room is mic’d up, and security cameras in every corner. Stay quiet.” You nodded and looked at him, his eyes were wide with a look in them you had never seen before.

“Hi, I’m sorry it took us a minute to get back here. I hear you’re having some nightmares, Mr. Munson?” The man quickly shut the door and sat down across the table from you.

“Yeah, they’re back.”

“Would you say they ever went away with the medications, or did they just lessen?” He flipped through some papers before looking up at Eddie.

“They never went away.” His leg was practically jumping up and down as he answered this man in a white coat.

“You didn’t check in with us for the last few months, so we’d assumed your medication dose didn’t need adjusting. You are the only one of the group who uh, experienced what you did in the lab, but we really thought the dose you were prescribed would be enough. Now, you also said you’d noticed some personality changes?”

“Yeah.” He answered, looking straight at the man.

“Like, what?”

“Been gettin’ madder a lot quicker lately. But I’d assume that’s from the lack of sleep and the dreams. Anytime I fall asleep, I get the dreams.”

“So, on average how many hours of sleep are you getting each night? Because that could greatly impact the effectiveness of the program we have you on too.”

“N-not many. Maybe four?” You looked at Eddie again, you’d been sleeping over with him a lot and never realized that he wasn’t getting a full night's rest.

“We’ll have to change those meds for you then, how does that sound?”

“Not like I’m gonna take ‘em.” He muttered.

“Oh, you haven’t been taking them?” The doctor put the files down. “And this is, your girlfriend?”

Eddie nodded, and sat up straighter. “Have you noticed a change in him?”

You went to open your mouth, but Scott spoke up.

“She’s the one who’s been around him with the nightmares. She says he wakes up unsettled, upset.”

“Mr. Munson, are you experiencing any physical pain from these dreams?”

He looked at Scott, who gave him a small nod.

“Sometimes my scars hurt after I’ve had a bad dream. Like, they feel fresh again.”

“But no pain during the day, when you’re awake?” Eddie shook his head no as the doctor sighed and shuffled through some papers. “I honestly think it’s fine. We know that everything is closed off, there should be zero chance of this happening again.”

“I just wanna get some sleep.” Eddie said as he yawned.

“Then take the meds.” The doctor slid over a handwritten prescription for what looked like 3 different medications. “It’s helped everyone you know, and it’s not a permanent thing. You just experienced major trauma.” The doctor had a seat, making him look a little less scary. “Is there a reason you’re so against this?”

You watched as Eddie visibly squirmed in his seat. You reached out a hand and held his, squeezing it lightly.

“My dad had a substance problem. Pills, alcohol, anything he could get his hands on. I’m afraid I’ll turn into that.” He wouldn’t look anywhere but the doctor as he spoke.

“All of these are controlled, and you are only allowed a certain number a month. If you’d prefer you could ask the pharmacy to dispense it to you weekly, or have a friend keep hold of them just in case. One is for sleep, one is for any panic attacks, and another is a daily medication to keep your mood more at ease.” He looked more kind than he did before, and everyone was glancing at Eddie to respond, but he just had a deer in the headlights look on his face.

“Hey, Harrington- let’s give him some privacy.” Hopper nodded at you, and you squeezed Eddie’s hand again, but he quickly withdrew it from your grip. You swallowed hard as you walked out behind Jim, feeling a lump in your throat form.

The second you reached outside of the office space, and the wind caught your breath, you felt the tears stream down your face. Everything had felt like so much for the past few weeks since you’d been back in Hawkins, but you had no idea the extent of what Eddie had been dealing with. You felt a hand rubbing your shoulder, and Jim guided you back to his vehicle where you climbed into the passenger seat, still crying.

“I shouldn’t have come back here. I should’ve just gone somewhere else.” You said as you wiped your eyes.

“God, Harrington, you’re so dramatic. Don’t go saying that. I think he needs you here.”

“Bullshit, Hopper. Why did he pull away from me when I just tried to hold his hand?!”

He slowly looked at you before speaking calmly. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, okay? You can’t get mad at me.” He paused, “Alright?”

“Yeah. I won’t.” You sniffled and dried your eyes.

“The people closest to you in your life- your brother, Eddie, me, Joyce, Robin, all those kids. All of us have experienced some of the absolute worst things you could imagine seeing. None of it was fake, it’s been hell here for years. We saw people we loved die, Dustin held Eddie as he died and somehow he managed to escape and live to tell the story, except we were all told we can’t tell it to anyone. I know the trauma you had back in the city was bad too, I’m not saying it wasn’t, but this was a different type of haunting experience for us all involved. We’ve all had to seek help to stay here and attempt to heal, everyone except Eddie. And until you got here, he wouldn’t talk to anyone about going to get help. That, in there, was actually the best he’s ever reacted to the doctor giving him advice. And the only thing that has changed at all, is you being by his side. I knew his dad, I know his uncle. That boy has nothing but stubborn Munson blood running through his veins. But he’s got his moms heart, and you bring that out in him. He’s gonna get help, you just gotta be patient with him and let him know you’re gonna be with him. He’s terrified to lose anyone.” You watched as Hopper smoothed his hand over his mouth, “So I need you to do something that you Harrington’s have a real hard time doing- I need you to get that stick out of your ass that you all have, and you can’t react to his feelings this way, don’t make this about you right now. I’m telling you, you don’t want to know what we saw. Did they tell you I was in a Russian prison being held captive? I got tortured, could’ve and almost died, but I couldn’t give up. Those kids and this town were depending on me. I couldn’t lose El, and she couldn’t lose me.”

You took a deep breath in and out, taking in all of Hopper’s words as he put his hand on top of yours.

“You need to be here for him, he needs you. You can’t give up on him.”

“I do kinda have a stick up my ass sometimes, don’t I?” You joked, making light of the situation.

“All you Harrington’s do. You’re born with it. But you’ve all got good hair, so I guess that’s the trade off.”

“Any hair is good compared to yours.” You quipped at him as he lit a cigarette and rolled his window down. You reached for one and he handed you his lighter.

“Didn't know you smoked?”

“Not usually this, but after that conversation I’ll take anything.” You scoffed.

“Something else is you two siblings can be really dumb. You do realize you’re in a cop’s car right now, don’t you?”

“And you do realize who my boyfriend is, don’t you?”

“Touché.” Jim said to you as you both took a drag of your cigarette and waited for the other three to come out.

About fifteen minutes later, and two more cigarettes each, you saw Steve and Eddie walk out behind Scott, Steve’s arm was around Eddie’s shoulder. You didn’t know if you should get out of the truck, or if you should wait to approach them.

“Go hug ‘em.” Hopper hit the unlock button as if he read your mind, and you jumped out and quickly approached both boys. You first hugged Steve, who had dropped his arm quickly to return the hug to you.

“Thanks.” He muttered in your ear. “I’ll see you later.” You told him bye as you watched him walk to his car.

You turned to Eddie who was standing there, watching Steve drive away, avoiding eye contact.

“Hey, I’m proud of you.” You broke the silence, and tested the waters as you gently placed your hand on his arm.

“Thanks for being there with me.” He wrapped his arms around you slowly, and pulled you into his body. “I should’ve told you about everything, but I didn’t know how you’d react. Everything’s out now. I promise.”

“I believe you. I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through and I just walked in expecting that you owed me a thorough explanation reliving your trauma when it’s still probably too fresh for you to even process. I’m really fucking proud of you for going today, Eddie.” You pulled back and kissed him on the cheek. Hopper honked his horn, and put his car in reverse as you and Eddie both shot him the bird at the same time, causing you both to giggle.

“I think that was enough for you today, Harrington. I’ll clock you out at 5, and tell Doris you had some offsite work to get done with me so you’ll be in the clear.” You thought about giving him the basement key in your pocket, but something told you not to.

“Thanks, Scott.” You told him with a smile, and watched as Eddie gave him a hug too before he walked off to his car.

“So, you think you could ride with me to get these filled, or-” Eddie nervously asked you, “I can go later if you just wanna go home, I can take you.”

“No, I’ll go with you. And if you need me to like, I dunno, keep you accountable for anything I can. Or if you don’t want me to, just say that.”

“Steve’s gonna do that for me, but I appreciate the offer. For now, I just want you to be my girl.”

Your heart swooned at the use of the phrase, as he kissed you on the side of your head.

“I can do that.” You smiled at him before heading to his van.

[skzeuphoria-blog]

Okay okay okay so what about like pussy drunk Jisung who absolutely w r e c k s you when you’re too incoherent to do anything, or he’s the first person to ever finger/eat you out and it’s in his studio (the fingering/eating you out) bc you’re just the tiniest bit needy and too tempting for him to focus on his work. Or the most dominant lee know with a pain kink that becomes a problem bc like a paper cut is bad news and the two of you try to keep it a secret from the members as to why you go missing for a bit after he stubs his toe or hits his hand on smt, until he ends up somehow cutting his hand while chopping vegetables (which isn’t supposed to happen bc it’s Minho), and it’s a HUGE problem bc he gets so incredibly horny that you’ve barely pulled out the Bandai’s before he’s fingering the hell out of you and the members find out bc they hear y’all banging I’m sorry this is so long😭

omg first of all tysm for requesting this!! you're legit the first person to do so and im so sorry if i'm late to answering this. i deleted the app and i had stuff going on and completely forgot to check tumblr... also fair warning this is my second time EVER writing something like this so i have ZERO experience but keep the ideas coming tyty!! this is very rushed because I wanted to get something out to you and i had no idea in what style to write so i just put something together quickly and you can always request something else anyway....

I absolutely love the idea of going over to Jisung's apartment to "study" (you had a wet dream the night before and was kind of needy) and to get some "help" (you want to get touched sexually) by Jisung.

You'd open up your textbooks and computer but within 10 minutes you were already staring at Jisung, imagining your dirty fantasies that you didn't even know you had before.

You weren't a prude but you've never had the opportunity to act out any fantasies even small ones due to a lack of boyfriends.

You noticed your cheeks burning up and looked away quickly trying to open another textbook but as you were doing that you knocked a glass full of water over, causing it to spill all over the floor. You'd gasped and say, "Oh my god! I'm so sorry! It was an accident I swear" Jisung would laugh in response saying that it was okay and he knew you were clumsy. You'd hurry to the kitchen to get paper towels and run back. As you would bend over, wiping the floor dry Jisung could catch a glimpse of your ass (and the wet spot that was starting to form).

He'd soon, too, would start to imagine you bending over and him fucking you raw, telling you to focus on your task but the feeling of Jisung being in you raw would be too much and you'd start telling me to go faster and harder.

Jisung would inevitably get uncomfortable by the growing tent in his pants and trying to cover it up with a pillow from the couch.

You'd look over at him and wondered why he looked so flustered and red.

Jisung would groan, throwing his head back "Ah Y/N, I can't take it anymore, this is too much." Jisung would definitely be cocky towards you and very straightforward. No beating around the bus with Jisung. Direct is the way to go.

He'd reveal his bulge he's been hiding under a pillow and you'll look at him with the most innocent angel eyes that always drove him crazy.

He'd tell you to come over and sit next to him. At that point, you were like putty, willing to do anything for Jisung. He had you (and your pussy soon) wrapped around his finger.

He would tell you to remove your clothes and in less than 5 seconds they would be off of you and on his floor.

He'd maintain eye contact as he would tease the entrance to your pussy, making you gasp. You'd quietly ask for more but he'd tell you to speak up like a good girl. Saying it louder, he'd oblige and put his whole finger in slowly, making you gasp even louder.

He'd look at you intensely, his finger going in out, exploring every inch of your insides making you moan.

To Jisung, your moans were the prettiest music he's ever heard. He'd love to hear them on repeat.

Begging him to go faster, gripping his body, he would oblige and go faster. You'd moan and say a curse of strings that Jisung would get turned on by. He loves it when your pretty mouth curses.

You'd finally cum on finger, shaking all over.

THERE IDK WHAT I WROTE SORRY ALSO IT WASNT TOO LONG IT'S JUST LATE AND IM TIRED BUT I WANTED TO ANSWER THIS ASAP

[shion-yu]

Day 13: Mononucleosis

A younger (early 20s)  Shu story for @sicktember! Ft his roommate and best friend, Mathias. I’m really excited to post this one because I’m very pleased with it and I think y’all will like it. 3,680 words and no real TWs/CWs but angst and unrequited love. (This piece also works for Day 14, clean sheets, but I had already written a drabble for that one so you get both.)

Shu’s mom told him many, many times that there was no point in moving out. “You stay here, not paying landlord,” she said. “Until you get married.” But after college, and at 22-years-old, Shu felt as if it were high time to get his own place. He’d lived just him and his mom for his entire life, and she’d never let him contribute to the rent. Of course, he loved his mother. She took good care of him and was an incredible cook. But he also felt he would never really be more than a boy in her eyes, and it was difficult not to feel like one himself when he was with her.

And so, he moved into an apartment with his best friend Mathias. It was small, dingy, and not on the best side of town. The furnace went out constantly, and the elevator didn’t work up to their sixth floor apartment. And yet, it was home. Shu’s first home besides the safety of his mother’s place.

He met Mathias in college. Both were studying business administration and found they had similar interests in television and books. It was easy to study together when they had such similar schedules, and soon their studying became a full friendship. A friendship and, for Shu, maybe something a bit more.

It was junior year when they got a little too drunk at a new year’s party and Shu leaned over, kissing Mathias without thinking. The world stopped; everybody around them went silent. At least, that’s what it felt like to Shu before Mathias stepped back, eyes wide with shock. 

“Why’d you do that?” He asked. 

“I’m sorry,” Shu said. “I don’t know.” 

Mathias came closer and kissed him again.

They made out in the back of the host’s pickup truck that night, drunken wandering hands and sloppy tongued kisses that made Shu feel as if he’d never wanted anything more. At some point Mathias said, “I don’t think I’m gay.”

“That’s okay,” Shu said. They kept kissing until the sound of fireworks exploding all around them startled them back to reality. It was 1996. Shu looked up in awe at the cold winter sky bursting into color; Mathias leaned over the edge of the pickup bed and vomited. 

They caught a taxi back to Mathias’s small off-campus bedroom and Shu took care of him that night. There was no more kissing, not that it would have been particularly romantic with all the puking Mathias was doing. He kept apologizing, saying he never drank too much like this. Shu just rubbed his back and cleaned up the bathroom, wondering if the kiss was a one time thing.

It was. 

The next morning, a very hungover and apologetic Mathias told Shu that last night had been a mistake. “I’m not gay,” Mathias repeated, although this time Shu just nodded silently, looking down at his lap. He was embarrassed and felt so foolish for hoping it was more than a drunken accident.

“Are you?” Mathias asked.

“What?” Shu asked, confused.

“Gay,” Mathias said.

“Oh.” Shu wasn’t sure what to say, although he was sure of the answer. If he said yes, what would happen? He didn’t want to lose Mathias as a friend, even if he couldn’t have more. Still, he decided it was better to rip off the bandaid. “Yes.”

“I thought so,” Mathias said, letting out a breath of relief that confused Shu. “I’m glad. I was afraid you might be offended that I thought you are.” 

Shu laughed, although it was mostly to keep from crying. “And you don’t care? That we’re friends.”

Mathias shook his head. “No. As long as you understand that I made a mistake.”

Shu didn’t correct Mathias that Shu was the one who’d leaned in for the kiss first. He just agreed, brushed it off, and from that moment on they went back to just friends. Best friends, but nothing more than that. Shu thought about admitting his true feelings many times, but to what end? Mathias had been clear: as long as you understand that I made a mistake. Meaning if Shu didn’t, he wouldn’t have a friend anymore either. That was worse than unrequited feelings, he decided, and he kept quiet.

It was after graduation that Shu told Mathias he was looking to move out. “Your mom’s not going to be too happy,” Mathias said knowingly. She wasn’t, but Shu needed to know what life was like on his own now. 

They had gotten their first job at the same marketing firm. Rather, Shu had gotten the job and then talked them into hiring Mathias as well. Every morning they would have a quick breakfast together, then carpooled in their shared, beat down 1982 Toyota to work. On the days it refused to start, they caught a cab. Sometimes there wasn’t enough spare change for a cab though, and on those days they ran to the bus stop and barely made it on time. 

Mathias complained about the money. He said someday they’d get better jobs and move into a nicer apartment and have a car that didn’t need more repairs than it was worth. But for Shu, it was fun. He was living adult life without his mom’s watchful eye for the first time, and growing up with his best friend and the person he loved. So what if Mathias didn’t feel the same way? If this was how it was forever, Shu thought naively to himself, he’d be okay with that. 

Shu got a raise first, that February. It was twenty cents more an hour, and they celebrated with beer and pizza from the gas station. It was a raise for making the most sales of any newbie that quarter, and Shu thrived on the praise he got for it. To most people on the outside, it would have seemed like such a measly starter job. For Shu, he felt on top of the world. Nothing could stop him, he thought. He worked harder, longer hours, even staying overnight sometimes. He thrived on being told he was a great employee. Mathias told him he was going to burn himself out, but Shu didn’t care. All the overtime turned into more praise and more money that he was thrilled with.

That was, until the summer of ‘97 swung around and just like Mathias had said, Shu found himself worn out one year into his career. Up until then, he’d never taken a sick day. He’d been sent home with the flu on a Friday afternoon that past winter, and was back to work on Monday. But this morning when Shu woke up, he found himself so tired he couldn’t get out of bed. He kept hitting snooze on his alarm - 5 minutes, 10, then 15 past his usual time. He needed to get up, but his limbs felt like they were made of lead. The fifth time his alarm went off, Mathias knocked on the door and poked his head inside in confusion.

“Aren’t you getting up?” He asked. Shu occasionally had to drag Mathias from bed, but never the other way around.

“I’m getting up,” Shu confirmed, but when he forced himself to sit up a wave of dizziness washed over him. It had been happening a lot recently, these little dizzy spells. Mostly at the end of the day when he stood up after several hours of terrible posture slouched over at his desk. This time felt stronger than usual, though.

Mathias entered the room, his face drawn in concern. “You don’t look too good,” he said. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Just tired,” Shu croaked. His fingers moved to his throat, which was painful. Come to think of it, he’d had a sore throat the past week too, but he’d been able to dismiss it. Now, though, he felt as if he’d gargled rocks.

Mathias sat on the end of the bed, forward as always, and peered at him closely. Shu shivered. “What?” He asked.

“You look like you’ve got a fever,” Mathias said, pressing the back of his hand to Shu’s cheek without warning. “Yikes. You definitely have a fever.”

Shu shook his head. “I can’t, it’s a work day.”

“I don’t think whatever cold you’ve caught knows that,” Mathias said. “You need to call in.”

“No, no,” Shu dismissed him. “I’m getting up. I’m up. Let’s go.”

Mathias sighed but stopped arguing. Shu was stubborn as hell when it came to work, and he knew a fever was not going to change Shu’s mind. “Fine. We’ve gotta go in ten, hurry up.”

Ten minutes was all it took for Shu to throw on his work clothes, brush his hair and teeth, and splash some water on his face to become semi-presentable. He downed a handful of Tylenol in front of the mirror, wincing as the chalky pills scraped going down his swollen throat. He looked rough, but he was confident he could make it through the day. And to his credit, he did make it through: coughing and feeling absolutely wretched. He’d lost his voice by the time their shift ended, and his supervisor approached him when he was punching out.

“Shu, don’t come in tomorrow,” she said. Shu opened his mouth to complain but she held a hand up to stop him. “You’re going to get this entire office sick. Go to the doctor and get some antibiotics.” 

Shu was mortified, feeling like he’d been told off for doing something wrong, and nodded dejectedly. Mathias asked him why he looked like a kicked dog on the drive home and Shu told him. “Um, aren’t you glad she wants you to stay home?” Mathias asked, clearly not understanding Shu’s thought process. “She literally excused you from work.”

“Yeah, and what if she fires me because I take too many sick days?” Shu managed to say hoarsely. “And I go broke?” 

“That’s not gonna happen,” Mathias snorted. “You need to calm down.”

But Shu couldn’t calm down. He just kept going down anxious paths of worst case scenario what-ifs until he got home and lay down in bed without changing out of his work clothes. He was out practically the second his head hit the pillow, and the next thing he knew Mathias was waking him up the following morning.

“Drop me off at work so you can get to the doctors,” Mathias was saying. Shu’s head was pulsing, splitting, and he just groaned. “Shu? Shit, you’re really burning up. Look, they know we live together, I’ll just bring you myself. Come on.” 

Shu didn’t really remember Mathias helping him get dressed, nor did he remember the car ride over. What he did remember was them swabbing him for a few respiratory illnesses at the doctors office, and then the doctor coming in shaking his head and saying, “Well, your test for mono came back positive faster than anyone I’ve seen in a long time.”

Shu was sure he’d heard the doctor incorrectly. “The kissing disease? I thought only teenagers get mono,” he said, dumbfounded. He remembered a classmate getting mono in high school. Specifically, her being out of school for an entire month. 

“Well, it’s common in teens and young adults, so you’re in the average age range,” the doctor said casually. “So I’ll write you a note for work and you’ll have to stay in bed until you’re feeling better. Take Tylenol for pain and fever, cough medicine if you need it, and-“

“Wait, how long are we talking?” Shu asked, alarmed. “I came here for antibiotics, I can’t be out of work.”

The doctor shook his head. “Mono is a viral illness, so unfortunately antibiotics won’t do much,” he said. “And I’d expect to be out of work for a few weeks, at least until the fever’s gone. Maybe more.”

“Like months?!” Shu asked, horrified. “How am I supposed to pay for rent?”

“Shu, we’ll figure it out,” Mathias said, “Just listen to the doctor.” 

But Shu was beyond listening, and he had some hope that the blood test they did to confirm the diagnosis would still come back negative. Maybe it was just the flu, he thought. An unusual strain that didn’t test positive for some reason. Or a terrible sinus infection. He couldn’t be out of work for two weeks, let alone a month or even longer. He’d fall behind. All his hard work would be disregarded. They’d fire him, he was sure they would.

Mathias drove Shu home in silence, apparently knowing that letting Shu spiral at the moment was about all he could do. He dropped Shu off in front of their building and said, “I’ll tell work for you, if you want.” 

“Please don’t tell them,” Shu begged. “I’m sure I’ll feel better tomorrow. I can’t have mono, I don’t even go out or kiss anybody.” 

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” Mathias said pityingly. “Just go to sleep, it’s all going to work out. I won’t tell them you have mono but you’re at least gonna need a few days. And the doctor said if you push yourself, it’ll just make you sicker.”

Shu stumbled into the house, flopping onto bed still in disbelief. He felt awful - sick, but also like his life was self-imploding and there was nothing he could do about it. For the next few days he stayed in bed, physically miserable but still hopeful that it was just a bad cold, until the office called that Thursday and said the blood test had confirmed a diagnosis of mono. They asked Shu if he wanted them to fax paperwork over to his work and Shu, although it nearly killed him, finally said yes.

By now he was sure that he’d get a call any day - a call not to come back to work ever again. Mathias tried to convince Shu that he was being dramatic. Their supervisor had even sent her well wishes and nobody at work was talking smack about him like Shu was so convinced was happening. Shu didn’t quite believe Mathias' good tidings only, but he felt too awful and drained to argue.

The exhaustion was the worst part, followed or perhaps hand in hand with a fever that refused to break for the first week. Shu wasn’t sure he’d ever felt so drained, like he’d run a marathon he most certainly had not signed up for. Mathias tried to coax drinks and food into Shu, but his throat hurt so much that he barely wanted anything. “You have to eat if you want to get better faster,” Mathias said, and usually Shu would have listened. But his head felt so full of cotton that he kept falling asleep even with a bowl of soup in his hands.

On the worst day of the fevers, Shu tried to get to the bathroom in the middle of the night and ended up face first on the carpet in the hallway. Mathias had heard the thump and woke up, running out of his room and turning the hall light off. “Oh my god!” He exclaimed, horrified. “Shu? Hey, buddy, talk to me.”

He turned Shu over, and Shu made a sound that was like a moan mixed with an awkward laugh. “I tripped,” he said. “Sorry.”

“You scared the shit outta me,” Mathias groaned, shaking his head in disbelief. “C’mon, let’s get you back in bed.”

He helped Shu to his feet and wrestled him under the covers. “These are soaked,” Mathias said. “Let’s change them.”

“You have work in the morning,” Shu croaked. “I’m okay.” It was just the fever making him emotional, he told himself. It was making him want to cry, because Mathias was so gentle and patient and handsome with a wreck of a guy like him with no attractive features and yet, he would never be anything more than a friend. 

“You’re not okay. Sit on the floor, I’ll change them really fast,” Mathias said. He helped Shu to the floor and draped Shu’s duvet around his shoulders. Shu held it close and shivered, his whole body aching. He watched Mathias quickly change the sheets and then let himself get put back to bed. “Take your temperature,” Mathias said, handing him the thermometer while he got out Tylenol. “You - Shu, are you crying? Are you feeling that bad?” 

Shu lifted his hand to his eyes to find he was, in fact, crying. “I don’t know why,” Shu said, sniffling. “It’s just the fever, probably.”

“Probably,” Mathias said, but he still looked worried. He checked that the thermometer was correctly under Shu’s armpit and shook his head. “God, you’re really going through it. Sorry, pal.” 

Shu couldn’t help it - he let out another little sob. This was so embarrassing, he thought as he covered his face with his hands. Mortifying. He was going to lose his job and now his best friend too, because he couldn’t just be happy with what he had. He always wanted more. At work mostly, but maybe from Mathias too, and that just wasn’t fair to his best friend who had never pretended to be anything but himself. 

“Shu? What hurts? You’re scaring me,” Mathias said.

“I’m sorry,” Shu said, trying to get his tears under control. “I’m just - my head hurts,” he said. It did hurt, but it definitely wasn’t making him cry. There was no way he could really tell Mathias why, though.

“Take the Tylenol,” Mathias instructed him worriedly. Shu did, and when it was time they looked at the thermometer which even given the shoddy lines on the glass, read about 103 degrees. ”Do you think you should take a cold bath?” Mathias asked.

Shu shook his head. He didn’t want to take a bath. He was sure he couldn’t do it without help, and there was no way he was letting Mathias see him like that - even more vulnerable and pathetic than he already was. Mathias got him cold washcloths instead and draped them over Shu’s forehead and neck, which made him shiver.

“The clean sheets,” Shu said, teeth chattering. “They’re getting wet.”

“It’s just water,” Mathias said. He glanced at the clock on Shu’s bedside table. It was two in the morning, and Mathias had work soon.

“You should go back to sleep,” Shu said, his voice choked but the washcloth at least hiding his watering eyes.

He felt Mathias rest a hand on his chest, and the small sob he let escape was unavoidably noticeable when they were making such contact. “I’ll be fine,” Mathias said. “I’m just worried about you.”

It wasn’t fair, Shu thought as he cried, completely unable to hide it any longer. Why did he have to get sick right when life was going so well? Why did he have to love someone who would never love him back, at least not in the same way that he did? Why was he such a selfish person to even hope otherwise?

Mathias was shushing him, telling him it was going to be okay. For a moment, Shu wished he’d never moved out and stayed with his mom, a bachelor for an indeterminable forever but at least he wouldn't know how badly this hurt. Eventually, though, he wore himself out and the sobbing subsided along with the peak of his fever. He felt overheated and kicked his blankets off, hot air escaping him in labored panting. “S’hot,” he muttered to Mathias, “Too hot.”

“Your fever’s just going down,” Mathias reassured him. “Just relax. You’re going to be fine.”

“How do you know?” Shu asked desperately.

Mathias hesitated. “It just will be. Lie back down.”

Shu listened, but he was still muttering about the heat. Mathias felt his cheek with one hand and it felt blissfully cool. “Keep it there,” Shu muttered. “Please.” Just give me this and I’ll be happy, he told himself. It’s enough, just make it enough forever. Mathias put his other hand on Shu’s opposite cheek, and eventually Shu fell asleep with Mathias’ cool palms cupping his tear-streaked face on both sides.

The next day, Shu downplayed what he remembered about that night. The fever made an easy excuse, and he forced himself to make jokes when Mathias laughed about the method with which he’d finally calmed Shu down, holding Shu's face in his hands. For the next several nights, as Shu tossed and turned with fevers that kept him up, he would try putting his own hands on his cheeks to comfort himself. It wasn’t the same, though.

It took three weeks before Shu was able to get back to the office, and even then he had lost weight and was exhausted quickly. His boss was wary of him being there, his pallor alarming her, and she banned him from staying overtime for another week. Despite Shu’s fears, the bills were paid and things went back to normal, slowly but surely. The fevers and cough were gone, only leaving a lingering exhaustion that Shu had to be careful not to push lest he wind up with a blinding headache as a result. It was difficult for Shu not to do as much as he wanted, but it was more difficult to continue pretending that his feelings for Mathias weren’t more painful than before, too. 

Focusing on work was his only and best distraction, and so once he was able to get through the day without crashing, Shu threw himself back into the same cycle of overtime and blind dedication to his career. It was better than pining, he thought. Just like it was better to keep Mathias as a friend than to lose him completely. Shu told himself that settling for a life of good enough, and not perfect, was all he could hope for. It was all he deserved. Wanting for more was just too painful.

[wannab-urs]

Faulty System

Graphic: Old Friends by James R. Eads

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!reader (i don’t really specify gender here, but the reader is afab in prior installments)

Summary: It’s easy to let all the bad parts of being with Dieter obscure the beauty of who he was. You try not to.  WC: ~900

Warnings: // in order // drug and alcohol use, Major Character Death (in the past), talking to your toxic mother, excessive cursing bc that’s how I talk sorry, discussion of mental illness, discussions of like idk… physical deterioration due to mental health and drug abuse, implied sex dream turned nightmare, no happy ending, trauma dumping (not in the fic, that’s just what I’m doing)

A/N: Thanks to @theywhowriteandknowthings and @atinylittlepain for reading and discussing with me <3 eternally fucking grateful to y’all. This fic is based somewhat loosely on the song Your Needs, My Needs by Noah Kahan, which is about watching someone you love become a ghost of themselves due to addiction. I know very few people want to read a pairing//x reader fic where the other half is dead, and I really appreciate all of you who read and love my Dieter fics. I don’t know how I can ever describe how it feels to have someone tell you they read the darkest parts of your soul and found something good in it. Love y’all. also i should probably wait to post this but i have no self control :)

Series Masterlist | Dieter Bravo Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

You asked me why I wasn't sayin' a word I'm namin' the stars in the sky after you

A late night walk, something you do to get him out of the apartment. Giggling as you slip the hastily rolled joint from his teeth. You press it to your lips and draw acrid smoke into your lungs, push it back out into the humid air and walk through a haze of your own creation. You’re drunk, maybe. High, definitely. Dieter wraps his arms around you from behind and you awkwardly waddle-walk down the sidewalk, tangled up. 

He presses a kiss to the space behind your ear and you scrunch your shoulder up, shrugging him away. “Fuckin tickles!” You squirm away from him and break into a run, tossing the joint behind you, laughing and squealing as he chases you. You skid to a stop behind your usual tree in the park. Press your back into the bark. “I see you, baby. Can’t hide from me.” 

You make a break for it. A stumbling, stuttering start and his arms are around you in a flash, pulling you to his chest as he hits the ground on his back. Howling hyena laughter ringing in the quiet midnight air. He kisses you, sucking all the air right out of your lungs, breathing it back into you. You separate only to turn in his arms and crash back into him, hands fisting in his curls, bodies pressed together down to your toes. He makes you dizzy, a little sick, disoriented. 

You flop onto your back next to him, staring at the night sky awash with stars as you fight to catch your breath. You get quiet, gazing at the stars. He asks why. “Just thinking.” He waits for you to continue, knows to let you work it out first. 

“You burn so fucking bright, Dee. It lights up the whole sky.” He smiles and brings your hand to his chapped lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 

You don’t tell him he’s like the stars you learned about from that space documentary you like to fall asleep to. They burn incredibly hot and bright. More than any other star. And then they burn out. They’re quick about it. They light up the night sky for this infinitesimal amount of time compared to something like a red dwarf. And then they’re gone, collapsing in on themselves and taking anything unlucky enough to be caught in their orbit with them.

“Only for you.”

You were a work of art That's the hardest part

A meeting with your mom, a year and change after. She’s sitting in his seat, probably doesn’t even realize. You can’t look at her, your eyes flicking between your untouched tea and the window. So many days spent lying under that tree, just across the street. Tugging each other by the hand into this coffee shop. Curling up in the booth and talking for hours. 

“I honestly don’t get why you’re still so upset. You were together for less time than it’s been since…” She trails off, not wanting to actually say the words. Since he died. “He hurt you. He’s still hurting you. He wasn’t good for you.” She says it matter of factly, like it’s common knowledge. 

“Don’t fucking tell me he wasn’t good for me. You don’t know that. No one fucking knew him like I did. No one even gave him a chance. I had to watch this brilliant man turn into a goddamn ghost in front of me and no one else even gave a shit.”

“He turned you into a ghost too.” 

You drag your palm across your face, smearing tears into your hairline. 

“The sad part is – we were fucking gorgeous together. It wasn’t always bad, you know? He made me feel alive and beautiful and fucking… real. Like no one ever had before. He was incredible. He was so fucking smart. Kind, talented. Wonderful. He was wonderful.” 

Trace the outlines of your dreams You'll always be a flower on my skin

A dream, a memory maybe. A blur of white sheets, dark curls tinged with blue paint. Gasps and sighs. Lips and tongue and teeth everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Eyes you never quite catch a glimpse of. Every feeling fleeting and just out of reach. Indents of fingers on your skin, dragging rough down your legs. These you feel. Hooking into you and nearly pulling you with him as he slips away. You swear you wake up with bloody streaks down to your calves. God it fucking hurts. 

Watching him slowly kill himself, knowing it was happening, and not being able to do a damn thing about it, that was the hardest part. Towards the… the end... Fuck. When lucidity completely escaped him, he was scared. Terrified of himself and everyone around him. In his rare moments of clarity he was always so bitter, so angry at himself for not being what you needed. He punished himself. Didn’t eat, didn’t sleep, didn’t speak. You think you hated him a little, by the end. 

Still. You don’t think you’re ever getting him out of your system. There was too much good in him to not forgive him for the bad. The rotten, broken, crumbling part at the center of him that took him from you. You watched him fall in on himself and you did nothing about it. Could do nothing about it. Helpless. 

You cross that county line I promise to be there this time, alright?

–-------------------

Series Masterlist

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Thanks for reading <3

I don't really do tag lists anymore usually but:

@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @mandoisapunk @amanitacowboy @pamasaur @cool-iguana (and I'll just drop a link to the rest of ya <3)

[bengiyo]

Step By Step Ep 9 Stray Thoughts

Last week on HR Violations, Pat broke up with Put in a mature-but-devastating scene, and spent the bulk of the episode processing his grief about that. Put immediately went on the offensive against Jeng, and threatened to out Jeng if he pursued pat. Pat went on a not-date with Jeng to check out multiple restaurants before learning that Jeng is gay at a queer speakeasy. Jeng spent the entire episode working himself up to express his feelings to Pat, confessed them to a drunk Pat in an incredibly adorable way, and ran into his ex at the aforementioned speakeasy. Jaab and Jen are a hot mess, and are also at the speakeasy. Chot, amazing as ever, is not at the speakeasy, and this feels like a missed opportunity. Also, Ae went to the doctor with Pat and Beam.

Pat woke up holding a plushy with his handbag and phone nearby on striped sheets. He’s probably okay.

Oh, he’s definitely fine. He’s in his own house and his mom is here.

I like that Pat doesn’t lie to his mom. He just refuses to answer the questions.

Jeng is doing pushups shirtless. 743 dead, 2689 wounded.

Chot said, “My name is Paul and this between y’all.”

It’s just Pat and his instant noodles against the world.

Pat is a gay with a good relationship with his parents. You love to see it.

I love the way Chot checks in with Pat. He shares a little bit of his own queer insecurities to commiserate a bit.

Jeng’s friend is hot.

Who organized this awkward as hell gay movie event? Is this to watch the commercial they made?

Did Pat really pass Jeng’s jacket on to Chot? Oh, Jeng, I’m so sorry for your loss.

I kinda wish Pat was talking to Ae or Chot about what was going on, because I’d like to confirm what the core of his rejection of Jeng is about. Is it about his own self-worth? Is he feeling gun shy coming off of the relationship with Put? Is it about Jeng as a superior at work?

Jeng’s breakdown is honestly so fantastic. Absolutely incredible from Man. Jeng is such a self-controlled character. You can feel how long he’s been desperately trying to hold it together and how aware he is of his own fragile psyche with regard to Pat. We also got to see gay man get consoled by his gay brother.

I feel like a significant amount of time has passed without us realizing it because Ae is so much more pregnant than I remember.

Didn’t Jen leave the company last episode? What’s his status?

I feel like Jen and Pat are being really unfair to Jaab and Jeng.

“What is he doing?” Consoling his heartbroken brother!

Personally, I think it’s responsible of Jeng to leave his position when he knows he cannot maintain a healthy professional distance from a subordinate.

Jeng's cake is cute, but does not look large enough for the office.

Another cake scene immediately??

I'm not sure we got a good read on the crying scene with Pat's parents. When he mentions memories everywhere, is he talking about just Put or Put and Jeng? I'm a bit hazy on Pat this episode.

What's the deal with the parents bringing up their divorce. Is this about Pat being friends with his exes?

Ae is about to deliver this baby. Quick! Cut to Kanoon so we know where he is and can do an Oishii ad spot.

We should dramatically throw keys to Poppy more often.

Since I am a man, I'm going to refrain from commenting on this birth scene. I will leave only this gif as commentary on the writing.

Wait, why the hell is this girl filming this???

Oh good. Pat said something about the cameras.

These people are way too online.

Did Jeng really send Pat a box full of a snack he said he liked once as a birthday gift? My goodness, sir.

I never get tired of watching people type and delete messages on these dramas.

This episode and previews for next week feel like a Brian Jordan Alvarez bit.

I feel like we were over the place this week. This was kinda rough. I don't know that any of the plot threads really worked together this week well. Jen and Pat had a decent conversation, but I don't think I'm with Jen on this one.

[kithtaehyung]

Hello writer it is I 📖 again. It 's been a while.

It’s a little late at night.. 😂 yes 10:00 pm it’s late at night for me ok? I’m a 32 year old man.. Emphasis in OLD!

And also I might be a bit tipsy.. Fine, I’m drunk but in my defense we are childless in this household right now (thanks to my mother who took the child on a little vacation) And let me tell you dear writer your new chapter couldn’t come at a better time 😏 yup I’m implying something 😂

What can I say about this chapter? It was.. quite something.

First.. I was a bit nervous by the reaction of reader to the whole dinner situation, and I was nervous because she was jealous? My man has never given her a reason to be! Tangerine man is wiped, gone, finished, K.Oed. She had no reason to be. Ok I get it she has some insecurities about herself from her previous experiences, and maybe yeah she still has some lingering concerns about how Yoongi was in the past, but it’s that THE PAST. I’m glad they talked, I’m glad she spoke and told him what was going through her head because Yoongi had no fucking clue what was going on, and there’s a reason for that.. not only because he is so incredibly wiped, but also because he is a MAN! And dear.. we (members of the masculine gender) are stupid, dumb, obtuse, and many other words that my mind can’t think of right now. Much more stupid than what you girls think we are, we don’t understand shit. So I’m glad she explained to him with pears and apples why was she upset, they are learning to be in a relationship with each other and that was very nice to see?.. read? (For a second there I was very worried I don’t do good with angsty shit)

Second. The.. (I had to ask how to refer to these parts 😂) Smut, it was fun.. I bet there’s a lot more that my man wanted to do. I get you Yoongi, I do also have a bit of a possessive trait.. which is not bad right? Right? 😂 I bet that when they are alone and able to explore this a bit farther it will get even more.. risqué 😂 (love that word) and I have to say.. his reaction? The things he did..? The things he said..? 👍🏻 And.. The things he didn’t do..Hehe..

He has more under his sleeve.. I just know it Because.. yeah 😏😎

Now, I have to mention the infamous chains, and I might be projecting here but I want to say that those chains have more meaning to Yoongi than to reader. isn’t Yoongi in his own way.. claiming reader? And I mean claiming her in the way of.. he is telling the world that that woman right there is his to love and to care for, that she has a person that will go to the depths of hell for her? I think it’s not only hot as fuck for him to see her wearing his shit, I think it goes beyond that.. am I wrong? I don’t think so.. because If it is.. I get it. There’s no feeling like it.

Sorry for the long ass message.. again 😂

If this doesn’t make sense blame it on the Macallan. And to Ki, she started with the drinking on fucking Sunday, because “B.. The last of Us first episode is tonight! We can’t be sober.. that shit it’s gonna be epic!”😂 I don’t get her logic.

Anyways, I hope you had fun during the holidays.

Great work as always. Have a wonderful evening.

Kind regards ✌🏻

-📖

P.S. I think brother knows.. 👀 I just have this feeling that he might notice more than what we all think, something about his behavior makes me think..

I’m a bit too invested on this story 😂 ✌🏻

BOOK!! HELLO! It’s been awhile I’m so happy to hear from you (with a side of Ki!😂) You two are just so cool I swear. How did you enjoy TLOU? I’m caught up and it’s so dang gOOD. Pass the Macallan!! Which one did y’all have?👀 we’re going under a cut bc I have lots to say again!

I definitely understand being apprehensive about reader’s attitude and overall demeanor! It’s quite different from all the times before and leads to some head scratching and possible nail biting. But once we come to find out exactly why there’s a whole war inside their head, it makes sense (without excusing actions.)

Also, there is a reason I had Yoongi act like this too because I know for a fact what you say about Men needing things to be spelled out🤣 it truly was that whole “I have no idea what you’re talking about so please say exactly what it is” type thing for him. Because on his end, we all know how he feels about reader! He could never do anything to hurt our beloved overthinker, not intentionally🥺 I’m glad reader was able to actually voice everything because this could’ve been a lot messier.

FUUUUUU I’m so stoked to know you liked the spice!! (Lmfao it is smut but we can use anything to describe it here I’m pretty loose with the terms. Spice is my go-to word for it in asks.) And it was quite interesting to see Yoongi like this, huh.. God, I want them to explore more so bad but alas. I shall exercise patience💀 he certainly has a lot more up his rolled-up sleeves..👁️

As for the chains commentary: I WANNA CRY😭 you have a pretty good take on them is all I’ll say for now but I won’t lie this part of your message made me tear up😭😭 we know from Dal Segno that his protectiveness went up exponentially during the time bro was gone, so maybe what you say has a ton of merit.. just imagining him seeing them on reader makes me all too mushy inside :’))

Suuuuper intriguing take on bro🫣 and I love the fact that you’re invested in this story! Makes me happy to know, and thank you for all of this amazing insight from your perspective!!

[lou-lj]

always there for you

theodor nott x fem reader

(fluff/ hurt comfort)

summary: Theo invites you to a slithering party but it doesn’t go as planned (also y’all not a couple but the crush is incredibly visible) (maybe i should write more about how this crush develops?)

warnings: anxiety attack

“Hey Y/n, i’ve searched the whole castle for you! How long have you been in here?” The tall brown haired boy stood before you with his green tie hanging loose around his neck. “Theo maybe you forgot, but we have to write our transfiguration essay to next week, which makes half of our grade.“ A small smile flys over his features as he closes the books lying in front of you. “That answered my question, let’s go eat dinner, pansy is saving your favorite pie.” You stretched while a yawn escaped your mouth “Oh that does sound nice.” Theo collected your pullover, books and bag as you shoved your writing utensils in said bag. Which he draped over his shoulder lightly shoving you out the library.

Together you arrived at the great hall where some people were already eating, while others just arrived or left. You went over to his friend group sitting down next to Blaise, “Hey you look as if you just woke up, here.” He handed you something that looked like juice but when you tried it the strong alcohol was definitely noticeable. “Y’all partying tonight or what’s that for?” you asked as you gave the cup back to the grinning boy. “Yeah, well actually the Stytherins are throwing a party for our quidditch team tonight. I wanted to ask if you maybe would come, just if you want to i know partys aren’t your thing, but i thought maybe youd be down to celebrate my win… I mean not my win just you know i part of the team and-" Pansy came to his rescue as he began to loose the topic in his ramble. “I’ll be there too, we’ll all be and we’d like you to come!“ You gave it a thought but decided to agree, if you didn’t like it you could just leave. It wouldn’t be a big deal “Sure i come to celebrate you Theo.“ you said while shooting him a wink. “Here you are y/n! We need you, Mandy cut her own hair and is now having a mental breakdown.“ Sue Li one of your roommates stood behind you, smiling apologetic. “Oh man ok sure, see y’all later!“ With that you vanished out the hall.“She forgot to eat, i’ll save her some for later right? Yes she should eat before drinking.“ Pansy laughed at Theo, while Draco shook his head “God you’re so crushing on this girl!“ “What? No way.”

After helping your friends and changing out of your uniform your watch was already on 8:45pm so you just quickly fixed up your hair and then sprinted to the slytherin common room. As you walked in Pansy who was clearly drunk hugged you. “Guys she made it!” The others cheered, as she dragged you onto some sort of dance area. The room was incredibly crowded and a heavy smell of sweat and alcohol mixed in your nose. “Here have a drink.” Matheo shoved a beer in your hand which came very handy for you as your mouth grew dryer every second. You took a sip while trying to relax. Theo who stood next to you leaned down to talk to you “I’m glad you still made it, everything fine with Mandy?” “Yeah we made it work, sorry that i’m late.” “No worry’s.”

The party grew even more crowded and louder every minute and you didn’t feel comfortable but the others were having fun so you weren’t gonna say anything. But Theo’s eyes were constantly on you and he didn’t need you to say anything in order of sensing your anxiousness. “Hey let’s get out of here yeah?”

He took your hand and lead you to his room. “You ok?” He turned to you after closing the door. Tears were streaming down your cheeks and your hands were trembling out of no where. “I- I don’t know Theo-“ He rushed to your side patting your cheeks dry with his sleeve. “Hey y/n look at me, you’re ok, alright? Breathe with me, come on let’s sit down.” he sat down on a bed placing you on his lap. You buried your head in his chest as he soothingly caressed your back.

“Ah shit i’m sorry for all this.” you half laugh after calming down. Theo shook his head while smiling at you “Nah stop being sorry for this kinda stuff i’m glad you’re ok.” “I’ll wash my face, be right back.” He nodded while opening a window. As you came back a slight breeze was coming from the window where Theo sat. “Come here, I took some food from diner cause you left with out eating and-“ You smiled while walking towards him, “Thanks,” you sat down next to him unpacking the food while leaning onto his chest “not just for the food but for helping me and being there for me.” “I didn’t mind. I’ll always be there for you, ya know that?”

A/N: Hey guys, I’m not really happy with how this fic turned out, but I wanted to post something cause I feel like it’s been some time. I don’t even know what’s going on I just hadn’t had the time or motivation to write much lately. I hope y’all still happy with what i put on here cause i’m just confused with myself hahah….. idk what this note is, live with it or don’t i’m a mess it happens sorry, love y’all :)

[chemmerson]

smithereens

armin arlert x reader, college au

when armin, your crush from class, invites you to the bar with his friends, you have an encounter with a drunk idiot, and armin saves the day.

inspired by “smithereens” by twenty one pilots

words: 2.0k

warnings: alcohol, drunk reader and gang, slight violence, FLUFFY FLUFF

a/n: because im in love with armin and i can’t listen to this song without thinking of him

read on ao3

---

The street was lively, filled with college students milling about and making their way to whatever bar was next on the list. You were walking to a bar yourself, accompanied by the cute boy from your World History lecture who invited you and his wild group of friends.

It was cold, so you were instinctually walking closer to him for warmth. But your insides were buzzing at the contact your shoulder was making with his as you walked. Armin was incredibly kind, smart, and lovely to talk to. You could stare at his baby blues for hours, and when he asked if you wanted to tag along with his friends, you tried not to sound so excited when you said “yes.” Although when you got to your apartment, you screamed into a pillow and your roommate was rather concerned until you told her.

“Are you too cold?” He turned to look at you with those incredible eyes. “I don’t think Ackerman’s is that much further.”

“Oh no! I’m good,” you smiled to reassure him. “Promise.”

He smiled at you then, so soft and kind, and you had to turn away to fight the giddy smile that threatened to take over your face.

“Speaking of,” Armin’s friend Eren turned around in front of you and started walking backwards with his hands in his pockets. “Are you sure your cousin is cool with us going to his bar, Mikasa? He won’t try to babysit us, will he?”

“He doesn’t care,” said Mikasa, who was walking on the other side of Armin. “In fact, I’m pretty sure Levi won’t even care to say hi to us if he sees us.”

“Hey, asshole. Stop walking backward like that. You’re going to trip,” said Jean who was walking next to Eren.

“Shut up, douche,” Eren nudged Jean, and then it turned into a pushing match.

You had been introduced to all of Armin’s friends. Mikasa, Eren, Jean, Marco, Connie, and Sasha. They were all super friendly and nice, and you were glad you knew more people at your university now.

“Eren…Jean, cut it out,” Marco said, pulling Jean away from Eren.

“Sorry,” Armin spoke up quietly beside you. “They’re kind of idiots.”

“Kind of?” Mikasa mumbled.

You giggled, looking at Armin. Although you had to quickly turn back to avoid feeling too nervous. “It’s okay, they’re fun. Everyone is super nice.”

You saw Armin smile widely beside you, so you turned back. “I’m glad you came.”

“Me too,” you felt your neck flush. “I’m excited.”

“Let’s get this party started y’all!” Yelled Sasha who was walking with Connie behind you, Armin, and Mikasa. Connie agreed with a whoop.

You pressed your shoulder closer to Armin as you walked, and you hoped he noticed.

———

Two hours later, you were very drunk.

You were giggling into Armin’s shoulder, laughing at something Eren had just said. Everyone standing around the tall pub table was cracking up as well, with flushed cheeks and uncontrollable laughter. As you pressed your forehead into Armin’s shoulder while you laughed, you caught a whiff of his shirt that smelled like fresh laundry and cedarwood.

“Are you okay?” Armin leaned his head down to chuckle in your ear. His lips brushed against your hair, and it made your heart race.

You leaned back up, face so incredibly close to his you almost drowned as you looked in his ocean eyes. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Armin smiled at you, all flushed cheeks and droopy eyes. Those eyes darted down for your lips for just a second, and it made your heart stop. Was he going to…

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Mikasa piped up. She glanced at you and Sasha.

“Um,” you quickly hopped off the stool. “I’ll go with.”

You needed just a second to process this. Armin Arlert, the boy from your World History lecture, who you had an embarrassingly huge crush on was looking at you with those baby blues of his, full of desire and you needed a moment to breathe.

“Me too!” You heard Sasha slur enthusiastically. You all held hands as you made your way to the bathroom.

After you had used the restroom which was crowded and full of drunk girls chatting and complimenting each other, you squeezed your way out, not wanting to crowd the bathroom anymore.

Waiting outside for Sasha and Mikasa who you thought were still bathroom, you took a look around the huge bar full of drunk college kids. This was your first time downtown at an actual bar, and it was quite overwhelming.

As you looked around, you caught his eye. Armin noticed you across the bar, and he gave you a sweet smile. You smiled back, completely melting at the look. It was so incredibly pathetic just how easy Armin could make you a puddle of mush with just his smiles, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You hoped he would ask you out after tonight. Even if he didn’t, maybe if you got the guts…

“Are you here all alone, baby?”

The low voice that had suddenly popped up next to you made you freeze. Towering over you, a stranger looked down at you with heavy lids and slurred words.

You stepped back immediately. “N-No, I’m here with my friends.”

“Don’t seem ‘em anywhere…” he stumbled towards you in the dark, and you felt your stomach drop. “So looks like you’re all alone.”

Suddenly his hand was clawed around your bicep. You felt suffocated, trapped, and you tried to pry his hand off. “Hey, let me go!”

He was strong though, and you were having no luck at all. Where the hell was Mikasa and Sasha?

“Come on, baby,” he mumbled as he tried to pull closer to him. “Just come with—“

Someone stepped in front of you, quickly pushing the guy off you, and your arm was free of his grip. Intense relief caused you to let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding as you realized who had just stepped in front of you.

Armin.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Armin said with a tone you never expected to hear from him.

The guy who was obviously disoriented from Armin’s push tried to stand back up on his feet. “What the…did you just push me?”

“Don’t touch her,” Armin said again with that same low tone. “Ever again.”

The guy finally came to his sense and looked over Armin. He scoffed, walking up and towering over Armin so that Armin had to crane his neck to look up at the drunk. “And what are you gonna do about it, little man?”

The stranger reached around Armin to try and grab you again. Your breath hitched in your throat, fisting Armin’s t-shirt in your hand. “Armin—“

Armin snatched the guy’s wrist and pushed him back. “I said don’t fucking touch her.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Eren, Jean, Marco, and Connie all run over to see what was going down.

You barely saw it happen. One minute you were clutching Armin’s t-shirt as you stood behind him, the next moment you heard a punch, and Armin was on the floor.

“Armin!” You shrieked. “O-Oh my god, Armin!”

You quickly kneeled to the floor, your hands going to Armin’s face which he was holding with both of his hands. Panicked and shaken up and thinking about nothing except Armin, you didn’t notice the punch that Eren threw at the stranger, and suddenly there was a fight happening behind you.

“Armin…” you breathed out and stroked his face gently. “Armin, can you hear me?”

You heard Armin groan quietly, still holding his face, specifically his left eye. He was still conscious.

“Eren! Eren, cut it out!” A familiar voice sounded above you. Mikasa.

You turned around to see Mikasa holding an extremely pissed-looking Eren back from throwing another punch, and Marco was holding Jean back as well. Connie stood to the side, holding his stomach and doubled over in laughter. Sasha stood by with her mouth open in shock.

“Armin,” you turned back to him. “Armin, talk to me.”

A voice you didn’t recognize started talking, and the commotion around you didn’t stop you from holding the face of your crush you had just taken a punch for you.

———

“We have a pretty good idea of what happened, but don’t ever start a fight in my bar ever again.”

Levi, Mikasa’s cousin had escorted you all back to Eren and Armin’s apartment. He had handled the situation and got the guy kicked out of the bar, but Armin was pretty disoriented and needed to get home. Eren carried Armin on his back the whole way home, and you made sure to walk right next to him, keeping an eye on Armin the whole time.

“You hear me, brat?” Levi hissed, grabbing Eren by the ear. “Or you’re kicked out for good.”

“Okay, okay! I get it, Jesus…” Eren pushed Levi off.

You sat on a chair across from Armin who was sitting on his bed. You held a bag of frozen peas up to his extremely black eye. Everyone stood around in the doorway and listened to Levi. You were mostly focused on Armin who had his eyes closed.

“Do you think Armin will be okay?” You heard Levi mumble quietly to Mikasa.

“Yeah, he’ll be fine,” Mikasa said. “He’ll be well taken care of.”

Armin mumbled something under his breath, and you perked up. “Armin?”

He sat up slightly, finally opening his other eye slowly. “Yeah…”

You grabbed the back of his neck to steady the bag of peas that you held to his black eye. “Are you alright?”

“Let’s give them some space, guys,” Mikasa spoke up. You heard everyone shuffling away and the door closed.

Armin’s eye opened wider, bright baby blue looking right at you. “I’ve never sobered up so fast in my life.”

You let out a relieved laugh, the tension in your body leaving. He was okay.

You scooted closer to him, your hand still on his neck while you held the bag of peas to his eye. “Armin…I’m so relieved. I was so scared.”

He looked down, eyebrows drawing together. “I’m…I’m sorry.”

“Armin,” you sighed out. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

He reached up to place his hand over yours that held the frozen peas. “I wanted to protect you…and then I got punched.”

Quick to reassure him, you shook your head. “No, Armin. You did protect me. You were incredible…”

His visible eye flipped back up to meet yours, and you realized how close your faces were. You swallowed. “Armin, you are so sweet. And kind. You saved me from something that could have turned out really bad.”

Armin’s eye widened slightly as you said that, and you could feel his neck under your hand become warm. “I just…got so angry when I saw him touch you. I was walking over there before I even knew what I was doing.”

Your heart swelled, feeling so touched by Armin’s actions and sweetness. Standing up to a guy twice his size and being as brave as he was.

You and Armin locked eyes, tension building in the small space between your faces. Taking a brave step yourself, you started the close the space between with a flutter in your chest.

Stopping just in front of Armin’s lips, you whispered. “Thank you.”

You pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth, and you could feel the pulse in his neck beating rapidly under your hand as you did. “Thank you, Armin,” you whispered against his lips again.

Pulling back slightly to look into your favorite blue eyes that were wide in surprise, you smiled.

Armin’s lips parted and he paused for a moment before speaking. “Um,” he sighed out. “Would you…would you like to go on a date?”

It was your turn to feel your pulse beat out of your neck, lips parting in surprise at the question you never thought you would hear.

“Maybe…” he spoke again, a smile on his cute lips. “Maybe when I don’t have as black of an eye.”

Giggling and feeling light with happiness, you pressed your forehead to his and looked into his glittering eyes. “Absolutely.”

“Ow ow ow…”

“Oh! Sorry, Armin…”

[obesericewrites]

Ooo, the bread ask has given me an idea,

Mc comes to the Ros crying so hard you swear someone killed their cat, when the Ros ask whats wrong the Mc slowly lifts up their hands to reveal a dead leaf, they are holding it in their hands like its a bird, the cry and go on about how the leaf had such a long life ahead of itself.

How would the Ros respond?

Y’all love that bread ask so much 😭 referring to this ask here

M: “…” Gently, M would cup your hands in their own and stare down at the leaf. “Feed….worm. Worm feed.” When you make a confused noise, tears still streaming down your face. M reached into their pocket and pulled out a fist full of dirt.

They hold out their hand to you and open it slowly, bits of dirt and leafs fall from their hand. Before you see a set of worms squirming around. M would pick up your leaf and softly place it next to the worms.

You’d watch in pure drunk amazement as the worms quickly munch down the leaf.

“Leaf…help other life.” M would rumble, carefully placing the worms back into their pocket.

S: “oh you’ve got to be kidding me…” S would whisper under their breath as they take your hands in their own just to humor you. They glance back at your face, red eyed and lips wobbling and they sigh. “Darlin…how about this. You return the leaf where you found it so that it can rest in piece, then we go home.”

They drag your hunched over form to the closest tree and reason with you to put it back. When you do and if your still crying, they’ll make a faux funeral for the leaf to make you feel better.

You watch with such strong determination it amazes them, they crouch down and watch you dig six inches into the ground and bury the leaf.

“Oh…when your sober …I’m so gonna make fun of you for this.” S will grunt with a grin on their face as they stand to their full height, lifting you and placing your arm over their shoulder.

B: “I-….it’s a leaf…?” They would say, slightly unsure as they reach out and pick up the leaf. “Be careful with it!!” You screeched, snatching the leaf back only to see it has a barely visible tear in it. You practically wail like a child now. B is absolutely mortified, glancing around they’d quickly reach out for you and try to console you.

“I’m sorry, honey! Look how about we fix it, huh?” Perking up, you stare at them with a hopeful look that makes you look like a child.

Incredibly, B would spend their evening with you sewing up the leaf and trying to make the stitch not noticeable.

“Gods…your lucky I love you, MC.” They hiss, sticking their bleeding index finger in their mouth and glaring at the needle they where using.

[fandom-imagines]

Sweet little darling~

Fandom: House of Wax (2005)

Pairing: Bo Sinclair X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Canon typical violence, domestic abuse (abusive relationship; not Bo) Kind of out-of-character Bo, depends on how you headcanon him for liking someone! Also not proofread yet.

Words: 2.55k 

Summary: Kindness can get you killed, but it can also get you out of a sticky situation.

Part Two!

To anybody that saw their relationship, it was evident that the feeling wasn’t mutual. Perhaps it once had been, but it no longer was, and for good reason.

“You fucking bitch!” The scream echoed throughout the building, one body looming over a small, cowering young woman.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, doing her best to hold back the tears that were threatening to fall.  “Please don’t hurt m-“ her pleas were cut short as a tight hand grasped her arm and tugged her onto her feet, a harsh slap hitting her cheek shortly afterwards.

“Please don’t hurt me,” he cruelly laughed, mimicking her frightened and desperate tone. “How pathetic.”

“I’m sorry,”

With one final laugh, her boyfriend tossed her to the ground.

*

Laughter filled the truck the group of friends were currently seated in, music blaring through the speakers of a radio one of them had brought but their drunk selves were unable to remember who.

Four of the friends engaged in conversation about anything their clouded minds could think of, whilst the final friend lay against the side of the car, desperately avoiding the demanding gaze her boyfriend was giving her and had been giving her the entire night.

It was clear what he wanted.

Eyes fixated on the green of the grass beneath her, Y/N noticed an approaching truck. Choosing not to say anything, she silently waited for somebody else to notice the vehicle.

“Guys,” Lucy, a close friend of Y/N’s boyfriends, called. “Who is that?”

By now the headlights of the truck were focused on the gang who were circled around the campfire, narrowly avoiding Y/N’s figure.

“James, do something?” Y/N winced as she watched another of the girls grasp onto her boyfriends muscular arm, her blonde hair rubbing against his bare chest.

“Can we help you?” He yelled over the sound of the roaring engine, their music having been paused the second they had notice the driver. “Look dude, this isn’t funny. Just fuck off!”

James’s final sentence was one that made his girlfriend cringe, body remembering the way he had hurt her the night before using that exact same tone; it almost made her cry.

Deciding to stop him before this escalated any further, Y/N made her way towards James before placing a hand on his chest to signal him to back down. This seemed to only anger him further, something that was clear by the way his hands balled into fists. Nobody noticed, except one other person.

“Leave it,” she whispered into his ear, hand dropping from his body to hopefully ease his anger.

James’s hand reach out to her, grabbing his own with a bruising force and tugging her into him as he leaned down to her ear, ignoring the whistles from his friends who assumed he was saying something sexual.

“Just you wait till I get you alone,” James snarled in her ear, unaware of the way an unknown man glared at him before driving away.

*

“Are you fucking kidding me?” James spat, smashing his hand against the cars hood. “It’s busted, the fan belt is fucked.”

His anger seemed to put everybody on edge as they all fell into an uncomfortable silence, something that was uncommon for them.

“You needed a new one anyway,” Y/N mumbled, just loud enough for him to hear.

“Don’t you fucking start,” while his words were directed towards his girlfriend, the others assumed it was aimed at the car in sarcasm; ignorance is bliss after all.

“I can help y’all.” A seemingly kind voice yelled from behind them, having heard the entire conversation. “Sorry, couldn’t help but overhear ya. There’s a town not to far from here. A guy, Bo, runs a gas stop, I’m sure he’d have some.”

Before James could rudely decline this man, Y/N decided to respond. “Do you know how to get there?”

“I’ll drive ya! Truck can only fit two of you though,”

“That’d be great!” She gave the unnamed man a gentle smile, one which he gladly returned. “When are you ready?”

“Now is good,”

She simply nodded, rushing towards the car without giving James a chance to say anything, only leaving him time to follow her, but not before a “fuck sake,” left his lips.

*

“Thank you so much, Lester!” She grinned once again as she hopped from his truck.

“It was no bother, pleasure to meet you Y/N,” he smiled back at her, ruffling her hair slightly before realising the angered look on James’s face. “And you of course,” he nodded awkwardly whilst his hand dropped back to his side. “You two take care now,” and with those words, he drove away.

“Fucking slutting yourself out to weird men, typical,” James spat as he tugged Y/N’s hand so that she was following him into the town, ignoring how she almost tripped in the process.

“I’m sorry, I was just being nice. He was helping us!” She all but yelled, silently praying for him to loosen his grip so that she doesn’t have to use all of her concealer hiding, yet another, mark from him.

“Sure he was. He didn’t just want to get into your pants or anything, huh?”

Ignoring his hurtful words, Y/N began to look around the town.

It was quiet, too quiet. But when she began to think, it was Sunday and there was a Church up ahead at the end of the road which would make more sense, especially considering how early in the morning it was.

“There’s the garage,” James said, dropping her hand to instead point at the small garage not far from them. “Let’s go,”

Y/N followed him, quickly striding to keep up with his large legs.

“There’s nobody here,” she sighed, watching as James just barged his way into the unoccupied garage. “You can’t just go in there! That’s rude.”

“Do I give a fuck? Wait out there for all I care,”

So she chose to do just that.

*

“Oh, hi!” A tall man in a suit gave Y/N a bright grin, accidentally startling her slightly. “You need something?”

“O-oh, hi! Uhm, my boyfriend is in there, I’m sorry I told him not too, he needs a fan belt? I have no idea what one of them is but I-“

The man chuckled, smiling once again as he put his arm around her waist to guide her inside. “Don’t worry, darling. I got ya,” his words were somewhat calming, as though he was offering to protect her from James, despite not knowing what was going on, or perhaps he did.

“You finally grew a p-“James’s words fell short as he turned to see a man, who was significantly taller than him, stood beside his girlfriend. “Hello?”

“Hi, names Bo,” Bo’s tone was a lot blunter than the charming one he had been using previously. “You need something?” He repeated his previous words, instead this time to James and less kind. “You are in my garage after all.”

Despite knowing that Bo could easily subdue him, James chose to get angry anyway. “You got a problem with me? Don’t leave it unlocked if you don’t want people coming in,”

“James leave it,” Y/N gently pushed herself between Bo and James as James began to try get into his face. “Just ask him for what you need and let’s go.”

“Fine, we need a fan belt. Fifteen inch.”

“I might be able to do that, but you’ve already had a look so let me know what I’ve got,” Bo smirked at the angered expression on the mans face at his words.

So maybe he did have a problem with James, a problem neither of the couple knew of.

“Not a fifteen,”

“Then they’re back at the house,”

“The house? Why would they be there?”

“Deliveries are delivered there, easier for everyone really.”

Y/N watched as the two men interacted, Bo incredibly calm whilst James was boiling with anger. Part of her was scared of how he would react, his threat about ‘waiting till they’re alone’ floating around in her mind, yet some strange part of her felt safe knowing that Bo was there. Perhaps it was the fact that he could fight him with ease, or maybe that James would, most likely, never harm her in front of another person.

“Let’s just go,” She pleaded, desperation swimming in her Y/E/C orbs.

“No, I’ll stay, you go.” James seemed pleased with this idea, smirking at the way his girlfriends body tensed; he enjoyed the fear he caused her.

“That’s fine with me,” Bo chimed in, offering Y/N a smile. “That fine with you?”

“Yeah, yeah that’s fine.”

“Let me just lock up,” Bo said, leading the visitors out into the street, much to James’s dismay, before locking up. “Let’s go then.” He gave James one last sarcastic smile before leading Y/N away from him.

*

“Do you live with anyone here?”

Y/N and Bo had been talking for a while now, having chosen to take a slow walk instead. He was nice, to her anyway. She felt as though he understood her, despite not knowing a thing about her.

“Nah, I live with my brother,” Came his response, winking at the girl as he ran a hand through his dark hair, enjoying the way she blushed under his gaze.

She knew it was wrong, finding him both attractive and sweet. But he was both of those, and James was neither, not to her at least. Maybe it was because he was the first person to be this kind to her in a long time, or maybe it was the feeling of safety she felt around him, but she was enjoying his company more than anyone else’s.

“Oh, that must be fun!”

Bo chuckled at her enthusiasm, “I suppose so,”

The pair walked up to Bo’s home, guilt filling the girl’s chest each time she let Bo’s hand brush against her own. She simply enjoyed the sparks flying throughout her body, forgetting about the pain she would receive later as a punishment.

“We’re here,” Bo’s words pulled Y/N from her thoughts, almost tripping over a rock as she came back to reality. “Easy there,” Bo shook his head whilst smiling as he caught her, sneakily pulling her body into his own without her realising it was not an accident.

“Thank you,” she blushed, unknowingly allowing herself to melt into his touch, feeling the need to savour every kind and gentle touch she was getting from a stranger.

“No problem, darling,” he smirked, once again enjoying the way she blushed at the nickname he had given her.

Hand still around her waist, Bo guided her into his home.

“Take a seat, I need to get out of this horrible suit.” His words caused a giggle to leave Y/N’s lips, her head nodding as she took a seat on the faded leather couch, watching Bo leave the room to go change.

*

“Sorry to keep ya waiting, Darl.” Bo’s voice startled Y/N, her body jolting in a way that made Bo feel slightly guilty, something that he rarely felt. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay. It was my fault,” she offered him a weak smile, twiddling with the hem of her short-sleeved t-shirt when he seated himself beside her.

“That looks painful,” his hands cautiously reached out to gently take her hand, fingers lightly running across a hand-shaped bruise that had began to form. “You shouldn’t let him treat you like that,” Bo’s spare hand reached up to her face, hand cupping one cheek which made her flinch, Bo frowning at the action.

“S-sorry,”  

Bo had no idea why she was apolgoising to him. It had been him that touched her, but it all made sense in his head.

“Does he hit you?”

Her lack of response was enough for him to understand to full situation.

“I’m sorry,”

“Don’t be, darling.” He sighed, hand moving from her cheek to her neck to pull her head towards his lips, planting a soft kiss on it, something that made her almost cry along with his sweet words.

“Thank you,” her own arms wrapped around his torso, grateful to be given affection without it feeling forced.

*

“You took your time,” James spat as Y/N walked towards him, Bo having quickly headed to the gas station for something that she couldn’t remember the name of. “Were you shagging him or something?”

“N-no,” the nervousness in her voice was something that caused Y/N to cringe, knowing that he wouldn’t believe her.

“Oh, you were.” James’s hands balled into fists as he stalked towards her, ready to attack.

“No, I had to get changed,” Bo’s deep voice startled both of them, James’s fists unclenching immediately.

“Sorry, man. Can’t be too careful with girls like these, can you?” He laughed, trying to play off his previous words as a joke.

“Can’t be too careful with men like yourself either, can you?” Bo’s words seemed innocent, despite having a deeper meaning.

“What?” James snapped. “You told him about us?” He yelled as he turned to face Y/N whose breathing was becoming laboured in fear. “You little bitch!”

As James began to march towards his girlfriend, a tight hand grabbed his fist, spinning him to face the holder only to not be able to see because of a hard punch hitting him in the jaw. The only thing he could hear was a gasp from Y/N and the ringing in his ears as he dropped to the ground.

“Not so tough now, are you?” Bo sniggered. “You can hit a woman but the second a man touches you, you’re out cold. Pathetic,”

Y/N stood frozen to the spot, unsure of how to react.

She hadn’t expected Bo to attack him. In fact, she hadn’t expected him to do anything at all to him or about her situation. Those who knew didn’t care, so why would a stranger?

“You fucking dick!” James screamed, climbing back onto his feet to throw a punch at Bo, one that he barely reacted to.

“Leave him alone!” Y/N yelled, darting between James and Bo, shoving James away from him to the best of her ability.

“You fucking whore. I should’ve known this is what would’ve happened. Actually, I guess I already did.” His words were fast, but his fist moved towards her faster.

Bo was quicker however, grabbing the man’s fist and twisting it behind his back before kicking his legs from beneath him, effectively knocking him to the ground again.

“Vincent!” Bo yelled. “Got one for ya,” both Y/N and James were confused at his words, fear filling them both as a masked man came running out into the street, knife in hand.

Bo took Y/N’s hand, pushing her behind his hand so that she couldn’t see the horror that Vincent was committing to her boyfriend in full glory.

“Y-you killed him…” Her words were quiet, watching from one eye as the man, who she assumed to be Vincent, tugged away the lifeless body. “Are you going to kill me too?”

“You’re safe here, Y/N.” Bo’s words were quiet, praying nobody else heard his true self speaking. “I’ll take care of you. Nobody will ever hurt you again, my sweet little darling.”