#LIKE THE SCENE IN WHICH HE GIVES HER MEDICATION AFTER IT?? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pathologicalreid · 10 months ago

Text

the archer | S.R.

in which a trip to your hometown leads to an exposed past and a wrongful arrest, you can't help but wonder who could stay

who? spencer reid x fem!BAU!reader

category: angst

content warnings: normal cm violence/death. mentions of sexual assault and physical assault. mentions of miscarriage and dv. arson/fires. please take care of yourself while reading <3.

word count: 5.96k

a/n: if you or someone you know is a victim of domestic violence, the US hotline is 800-799-7233. be well and be safe.

can you see right through me?

Emily had called you into her office fifteen minutes before the briefing began to let you know that the case was in your hometown. “There are some things that may come to light in a small town, and I wanted to let you know that you can stay behind if you need to,” she told you, having shut the blinds to her office to give you the most privacy she could.

Giving it a moment, you thought about it before you met her eyes, “if someone tries to say something, I’d rather be there to clear things up than let them say anything.” You wiped your clammy palms on your plants before standing up, “and besides, who better to work on victimology than someone who knows the town.”

You stepped out of the office, holding the door open for Emily before the two of you made your way to the roundtable room.

The two victims had been killed a week apart, they were both women who you had gone to school with. The first was in your graduating class, Victoria Reynolds, kidnapped, sexually assaulted, and asphyxiated. The second was a year ahead of you, Melanie Baylor, kidnapped, sexually assaulted, and asphyxiated. The team had been called in by the lead detective on the case, Charlie Platten, and he had likely made the call without telling the police chief.

It had already been three days since the second body was recovered, and Emily didn’t want to waste any more time. You left the roundtable room to grab your go-bag, smiling when you felt a familiar presence next to you. “Are you alright?” Spencer asked, leaning against your desk while you reached underneath it for your bag.

Stepping in front of him, you looked up at him, “I’m okay, Spence.” You plopped your go bag on top of your desk, “it’ll be okay,” you whisper.

“And if at any point it’s not,” he prompted, placing a hand on your waist.

You simpered up at him, “You’ll be the first person I go to, love.”

He reached over and grabbed your bag off of your desk, carrying it to where the rest of the team is waiting for the elevator. “I’ll admit, I am interested in seeing your hometown,” he told you, letting you step into the elevator before him.

“Yeah, Y/N, maybe you can show us some of your old haunts once we solve the case,” Luke chimed in from the back of the elevator.

Laughing breathily, you turned your head to face Luke, “Do I really strike you as the kind of person to have ‘old haunts’, Alvez?”

A few of your team members chuckle. You faced forward, wondering how long it would be before one of them saw through you. When working with profilers, it was always a risk.

'cause all of my enemies started out friends

Emily sent you and Luke to the latest crime scene while she and Spencer set up at the precinct. JJ and Matt met with the latest victim's family while Tara and Rossi met with the medical examiner. Your stomach felt unsettled as soon as the plane landed, you had a bad feeling about this case. Spencer tried to ask you what was going on with you, but you just brushed him off.

You would tell him. After this case was over and you went home, you would tell Spencer everything. He deserved that.

“Did you know her?” Luke asked, using a gloved hand to inspect a shard of glass he found on the concrete.

Blinking rapidly, you snapped out of your stupor, “Melanie? Yeah, she was a year ahead of me in school. I graduated with Victoria though.” You used the toe of your boot to clear some dirt off of what looked like some sort of plaque. “I wasn’t all that close with either of them, but in a town this small, you kind of know everyone,” you explained.

Standing back up and walking back over to Luke, you looked at the building, it’s an abandoned factory on the edge of town. “Is there any significance to this building?”

“It was a functioning factory in the eighties,” you explained, looking at the vines growing up the side of it. “This business was the entire economy of the town, when the factory went down, so did the town.”

Luke nodded, taking a step back and eyeing the entire decrepit building. “And the church? Where the first body was found.”

You pursed your lips, “Only church in town, I was baptized there, when it burned down people had nowhere else to go, so they stopped believing.”

“How did the fire start?” He asked, turning the knob on the factory door, and looking surprised when it opened.

You shrugged, “lightning strike, I thought. I wasn’t much of a believer, especially once my mom died.”

Alvez nodded in understanding, “Would you say that both of these locations are important to the town and its history?”

Nodding, you followed Luke back to the SUV, leaning back in the passenger seat as you mentally prepared yourself for the scene your arrival at the precinct was about to cause.

When you got there, you immediately spotted the police chief ripping the lead detective, Charlie, a new one outside the front door. He saw you and did a double take, “And what the hell do you think you’re doing here?”

“Sir, we’re members of the BAU, our-“ Luke started explaining, obviously confused at the chief’s combative nature.

He held up a hand, “I wasn’t talking to you, agent.” Turning to face you, “You don’t show your face at home, leaving in the middle of the night ten years ago and now you’re what? A big bad FBI agent?”

You stiffened, pushing your shoulders back as you faced him. Stand tall, stay strong. “It wasn’t the middle of the night, and the FBI is only big and bad to the people who deserve it, Frank.”

The man in front of you scoffed, “I’m talking to your supervisor, you’re not working on this case.” He pushes past you, causing you to stumble back against the wall.

“What was that about? Who was that guy?” Luke asked, looking at you as you got your bearings back before walking into the precinct.

Bowing your head, you grumbled, “You just met my father.” At that moment, you were glad to be facing away from him, because you weren’t sure you could face any of it.

You’re still the newest member of the BAU, technically being a profiler but Emily pulled you in to help with public communications, since the old unit chief had been handling it along with Garcia, Emily did the same. When Spencer went to prison, she found she needed extra help, so you were snagged from your cozy office in sex crimes and sent to the BAU.

You fit in well with everyone, and you never really felt the need to prove yourself. Even taking the initiative to write letters to Spencer, because you didn’t want to be a stranger to him when he came back. So, when you met face-to-face last year, he thanked you. When you kissed him eight months ago, you both agreed to move slowly.

Seven months ago, he showed up at your door and told you he loved you.

Emily gave you an understanding look when she saw you walk into the police station, she, of course, knew everything about your situation.

“We don’t have enough for any sort of geographic profile yet,” Spencer said, standing in front of a whiteboard with a map over it, along with pictures of the two victims. He turned as soon as he saw you, smiling in a silent greeting. You winked in response, sitting down in the office chair next to him.

Luke stood in front of you, blocking your view of the whiteboard, “What do you mean that was your father? Why wouldn’t you say that your dad was the chief of police here?”

You shrugged, leaning back in the chair, “I may share DNA with the man, but I haven’t seen Frank Burris since I was twenty years old.”

“Doesn’t that bother you? Did she tell you?” Luke asked Spencer, who was still looking at the whiteboard, entirely unbothered.

“What did you find at the crime scene?” Emily asked, effectively ending Luke’s questioning. You had no idea if she had heard any of the previous conversation, but either way, you were grateful for the change in subject.

Taking a deep breath, you turned and faced her, “The dump sites are all places that are former symbols of the town, maybe the unsub wants to further desecrate these locations.” Emily nodded, prompting you to continue. “These kills are angry, the overkill and sexual assault definitely lean toward a male offender, I think the unsub is angry,” you said.

“Angry that his town is no longer what it once was,” Spencer suggested, taking his eyes off the whiteboard. “Are there any other locations that could fit that general description?”

Shaking your head, you crossed your arms over your chest, “Probably, I haven’t been here in ten years, it might help to talk to a local. Charlie could probably help.”

“Charlie can’t help with anything; the chief took him off the case. It belongs to me now,” a voice behind you said. Immediately, you straightened up in your chair, earning a strange look from Spencer. “Y/N, I’m looking forward to working with you,” the male voice said.

Swallowing thickly, you turned and faced him, “I wish I could say the same, Johnny.” You stood up, needing as much ground as you could get. “Do you know any places that would fit the description? Somewhere that used to be a symbol in the down, but is abandoned now?”

“The school burnt down about eight days ago, but you’d know that if you gave a damn about us,” he said indignantly, looking down at you.

You felt Spencer stand behind you, “do you have some kind of problem?”

Johnny eyed your boyfriend and you hoped he didn’t catch on to your relationship, “If I’m being totally honest, I’m not completely comfortable working with Y/N.”

“Our team was called in to help solve these murders and Agent Y/L/N is a part of that team,” Emily defended you. “If you have a problem, I suggest you suck it up until this case is solved.”

Angrily, Johnny stalked off. You turned around and grabbed a file off of the desk, glancing over at Emily and silently thanking her.

help me hold on to you

Later in your shared hotel room, Spencer looked at you curiously, “Was he an ex-boyfriend?”

You rolled your eyes and laid back on the bed, it wasn’t the worst bed you’ve slept in since joining the BAU, but it certainly wasn’t going to be winning any awards any time soon. “Don’t be jealous, Spence, it’s unbecoming," you deflected.

Spencer climbed on top of the bed and kissed your forehead, “I’m not jealous, I’m concerned.”

That made your heart clench, you sat up in the bed and cupped his face with your hands, “You don’t need to worry about me, okay?” You studied his face, the small crease in his forehead that told you he was overthinking the situation made you sigh. Gently, you leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on his forehead. “If I think you need to be concerned, I’ll tell you,” you whispered, allowing him to gather you in his arms.

“Okay, angel,” he whispered back.

You sighed and laid back against the pillows, “I have a bad feeling about this case,” you told him softly. Spencer doesn’t believe in intuition the way you do, but he’d never discredit your feelings.

He reached over and swept your hair behind your ear, “Me too.”

Pulling away from him, you looked at him curiously, “Why?”

He shrugged, “Both of them look like you. You’re the same age as them.” The victims, he was saying the victims were too similar to you for his own comfort. You hadn’t really given it much thought. If you start comparing yourself to the victims, you’d freeze up. That was a luxury you couldn’t afford.

“I’m not going anywhere, Spencer,” you comforted, curling up next to him.

i've been the archer, i've been the prey

The call came at five in the morning, only four hours after you had gone to sleep. Splitting up into two SUVs, half of you went to the precinct while the other half of you went to the crime scene.

“Katherine Meadows was dumped in front of the school,” Emily said, leading you, Tara, and Rossi into the precinct. You were still pulling your blazer on over your tank top, having been given approximately five minutes between waking up and getting out the door.

You stopped in your tracks; your mouth went dry. You knew of the other victims, but you were friends with Katherine. She helped you pay for your plane ticket out of here. You owed her your life, and now you’d never be able to repay her.

“What kind of school is it? Elementary? High school?” Rossi asked, flipping through a file that had been left on a desk.

Snapping out of your daze, you shook your head, “It’s K-12 all in the same building, that’s why it’s such a big deal that it’s gone.” You looked at the whiteboard, there weren’t any pictures of Katherine up yet, but you could imagine it. She looked more like you than the other victims, and you silently cursed Spencer for putting those thoughts in your head.

“Agent Y/L/N,” you heard Johnny call from behind you, he and your father were charging toward you at an alarming pace. “Are you armed?”

Your head snapped up, “yes,” you answered, putting your hand on your holstered weapon, watching as Johnny and Frank pulled their guns out.

“Please hand over your firearm to Detective Klein and put your hands up,” Frank commanded.

Taking a deep breath, you handed the weapon over to Johnny, facing him directly. It gave you tunnel vision, and you couldn’t even hear the protests of your team as you raised your hands level with your head.

Johnny grabbed your wrists, and you hissed as he cuffed you, the metal cutting into your skin when he made the handcuffs too tight. “Y/N Y/L/N, you’re under arrest for the murders of Victoria Reynolds, Melanie Baylor, and Katherine Meadows. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law.” He shoved you in the direction of the interrogation room, “You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.”

An officer opened the door, and he pushed you down into a metal chair, hooking your handcuffs to the table in front of you.He continued reading your rights, “If you decide to answer questions without an attorney present, you will still have the right to cease answering at any time until you are able to talk to an attorney.” Johnny said, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “Do you understand your rights?”

You glared up at him, “What the hell are you doing, Johnny?”

He slammed a palm on the table, “Do you understand your rights?”

Pursing your lips, you looked away and peered right at the glass window ahead of you, “Yes, I understand my rights.”

“With these rights in mind, do you wish to speak to me?” He asked, leaning far too close to you, you could smell the cigarette smoke on his uniform. That smell was on you for years after you left, you were convinced you’d never be able to fully wash it off. Maybe you hadn’t.

You seethed up at him, “fuck no.”

Johnny nodded assuredly, opening the door to the interrogation room, and slamming it shut.

Taking a deep breath, you tried to pull the handcuffs away from where it was pinching your skin, you winced when it tore your skin. You set your head down on the cold table and sigh, knowing you should’ve taken Emily’s offer to stay behind when you had the chance.

Another officer came in later and told you they wanted your jacket and shoes for evidence, you didn’t fight them, numbly watching as he unlocked the handcuffs and took your jacket before putting the cuffs back on, just as tight. You kicked off your shoes for the officer and sat back down. Before he left, another officer came in and dropped an evidence box on the table.

It was an FBI scare tactic to leave an empty evidence box on an interrogation room table, but your box wasn’t empty.

They wanted to humiliate you in front of your team, and it was working.

all the king's horses, all the kings men, couldn't put me together again

The next people to open the door were Charlie and Tara, they sat down across from you. “I’m really sorry about all of this Y/N,” he muttered to you, pulling some files out of the evidence box.

You shrugged and shook your head, “Nothing Johnathan Klein does to me anymore really surprises me.” You looked at the files.

Charlie was hesitant to open the files, “there’s some rough stuff in here if you’re okay with going over some of it with us.”

Swallowing thickly, you looked at the file, “I don’t really have a ton of choice, do I?”

You hated both of them for pitying you, but more than anything you hated your father and Johnny for doing this to you and wasting time while there was a serial killer on the loose. He opened the file and placed pictures of the three victims in front of you.

For a couple of minutes, he asked general questions. Do you know them? How did you know them?

Then Tara finally asked a question, “Y/N, how old were you when your mother died?” She asked you, placing a photo of you and your mom in front of you. You were probably seven in the picture.

“Ten,” you answered, looking at the picture. You wondered if you could keep it once this was all over.

“When you were ten, you started a string of hospital visits that lasted until you were twenty years old. Broken ribs, concussions, fractures, and… a miscarriage,” Tara said, your eyes snapped up to look at her.

Your mouth went dry “You had Garcia unseal my files?” You couldn’t help the hurt in your voice.

The way Tara looked at you, you could tell she understood you in a whole new light now, “we had to. She felt horrible doing it.” That you didn’t doubt, the whole team had a mostly unspoken rule on inter-team profiling. You nodded understandingly.

“Y/N, do you have an alibi for the murders? We already cleared up that you weren’t working, but can anyone account for your whereabouts?” Charlie asked impatiently, he knew you didn’t do this, and it might not be his case anymore, but you could still tell he wanted it solved.

Looking directly at Tara, you answered the question, “No, I wasn’t with anyone.”

Your coworker set her jaw as Charlie got up and left.

“How did you get those injuries, Y/N?” Tara continued her line of questioning, setting a packet of medical records in front of you. You were still cuffed, so all you could do was touch the papers with your fingertips.

The paper read of chromosomes and a D&C, you couldn’t help the tears that flooded your eyes, “I- uh. I don’t want to look at that, please.”

Quickly, Tara pulled the papers away, “who hurt you?”

You bit your lip to stifle a cry, “Tara, please.” You knew what was going on, the only person who knew everything was retaliating against the precinct. They humiliated you, so she was going to humiliate them. She repeated the question and this time you answered, “My father.”

“Was your father also the father of your baby?” She asked, looking down at the papers. Honestly, she looked just about as uncomfortable as you were.

Solemnly, you shook your head, “That was Johnny. We were together from when I was fifteen until I was twenty. My dad-“ Your voice broke off, “Frank never touched me like that.”

“Can you tell me more about Frank?” She asked softly, the way she spoke to victims. The one thing you had tried to avoid.

Blearily, you looked up at your friend, “Can we take a break?”

Nodding, Tara stood up. When she opened the door, you heard shouting. People asking if your cuffs could be taken off. You just let your tears fall for a moment. Charlie came back and unlocked your cuffs, looking at the dried blood on them and the still bleeding wounds on your wrists, “I- I think we have a first aid kit somewhere.”

You brushed him off, waiting for him to leave and for Tara to come back. She did, draping a sweater over the table, and you tentatively grabbed it. Sighing when you recognized it as Spencer’s, “Has everyone seen the paperwork?”

She nodded slowly, “are you alright to talk to me about Frank now?”

You used your newly freed hands to wipe under your eyes before pulling the cardigan on. “It was my mom, she took everything he threw at her to protect me,” you whispered. “He hit me when I was ten, I had gotten a bad grade in social studies. So, my mom and I planned to leave, but he figured it out,” you said, furrowing your brows at the memory. “He strangled her, and she died. He told everyone she hung herself. The whole town believed him because he was the chief of police.”

Tara wrote something down, “he killed her in front of you?”

You nodded, “He needed someone else to take his aggression out on after that, so he beat me.” You told her, fiddling with the hem of Spencer’s sweater. “So, when I was fifteen and I met a boy, I thought I had found the answers to all of my problems, but I really had just discovered more.”

“The boy was Johnathan Klein?”

Affirming her question again, you continued your story, “he was a horny fifteen-year-old boy, and he had sex with me even when I begged him not to. He told me he had to because he loved me, and I believed him.”

Tara leaned over and looked you in the eyes, “You know that wasn’t your fault.”

“Wasn’t it?” You asked meekly, tilting your head to the side. “He proposed to me the day we graduated from high school. I had already accepted the fact that I was never getting out of the town, but what I didn’t know was by getting engaged to him I was very nearly signing my own death certificate.” You took a deep breath and tried to ignore the ache in your chest, “I found out I was pregnant when I was nineteen, and looking back at it now, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.”

Tara didn’t speak, she just listened. You supposed that was the psychologist in her, letting you take the lead in your own story.

You furrowed your brows as you tried to bring memories that you had spent so long burying to the surface. “I knew I couldn’t make my baby go through the same thing I went through, so I tried to run, but I didn’t get far. He found me, he beat me, he brought me to the hospital, and he told me I killed our baby.” You could see the story was bothering Tara. When you told Emily, you told her in pieces over the span of a month. “The only people I was allowed to see after that were my dad, Johnny, and Katherine.” You wiped tears from your face, “the judge wouldn’t grant me a restraining order, my only option was to run. So, when Kath showed up with a plane ticket and an envelope of cash, I took the opportunity and left.”

“Y/N, do you think these murders could be somehow connected to your upbringing here?” Tara asked, flipping through another file.

You looked back at the glass that separates the observation room, having no idea who was on the other side listening. “I didn’t until Reid said the victims looked like me,” you confessed. It felt too convenient, victims looking like you, you being framed for their murders. Yet, you still made sure not to call Spencer by his first name, afraid of giving yourself away. “Do they have any evidence?”

“They found soil from the factory crime scene on your shoes, but your jacket is still being processed. Without an alibi, we can’t get them to release you,” Tara said.

Rolling your eyes, you leaned back in the chair, “Of course, they found soil from the factory crime scene on my shoes, I was at the scene yesterday.”

The door opened and Frank stepped inside, “Your alibi spoke up.” He sounded irritated, but not as irritated as he’s going to be once the BAU is through with him.

i see right through me

Spencer had settled you down on a desk in the corner of the precinct, disinfecting the cuts on your wrists made by Johnny’s handcuffs. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, watching as he cleaned the debris from your torn skin.

He didn’t respond, he just shook his head. You could tell he was thinking, as clearly as if you could see gears physically turning in his head.

“Spence, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you whispered, bending your neck to try to catch his eyes.

He shook his head again, “I’m not upset, not with you at least.”

You raised your eyebrows in suspicion, “Then stop getting so lost in thought. What’s bothering you?”

He clasped both of your hands in his own, setting them in your lap, “Does it feel like a coincidence to you that the same night Johnny told us about the school the woman who helped you escape an abusive relationship was found dead at that school?” Spencer dropped your hands, reaching into the first aid kit and pulling out bandages before gingerly wrapping your wrists. At work, you tried to keep the public displays to a minimum, but you felt like these were extenuating circumstances, which was why you had secluded yourselves in the corner.

“I need to look at the crime scene photos again,” you said, trying to get off of the desk.

Spencer firmly placed both of his hands on your hips, effectively keeping you in place. “Once I’m done,” he whispered, securing the bandages on your wrists. “Are you alright?”

You tilted your head up at him and smiled sadly, “Everyone learned a lot about me today. Some of it I had never intended on telling them. I just feel… exposed? Raw?” You searched desperately for the right word to use to describe exactly how you feel.

Hanging your head low, your eyes traced patterns in the carpet when Spencer hooked a finger gently under your chin and lifted your head, so you were looking at him. His honey-colored eyes searched your face, and you felt like he was looking right through you. “You know nothing that happened today makes any of us see you differently, right? I don’t think of you as any less of a person because of what I learned today.”

You shook your head, “You don’t learn those things about your girlfriend and look at her the same.”

“You’re right. I don’t look at you the same, I’m even more in awe of you now than I was before. The fact that you’ve been through what you’ve been through and you’re this bright, shiny person sitting in front of me is astounding, but…” His voice trailed off.

Here it was, he couldn’t want who you were. He didn’t want the heavy history that comes with you. You shut your eyes.

He cupped your face with his hands, “it makes me worry that maybe I haven’t been there for you enough. Not in the same way you’re there for me.”

“Spence,” you whispered, swallowing back your emotions, and looking up at him.

Spencer shook his head, “I love you, and I have to make sure that you know that I’m always going to be there when you need me.”

Nodding rapidly, you stood up and wrapped your arms around him, “I know.” Your voice was little more than a rasp, “I know, I love you too.”

After assuring Emily and Tara that your friendship was intact, you turned to the team. “I think I play a bigger part in this case than I realize.”

“We were just coming to a similar conclusion, once we saw what Katherine Meadows looked like, it just confirmed our suspicions,” JJ said, looking at the whiteboard, which now had Kath’s picture on it, as well as yours. “The whole town seems to have it out for you, though. How do we narrow down the suspect pool?”

You stepped up to the whiteboard, “Because it’s not about the locations and their relation to the town, it’s about the locations and their relation to me.” You pointed to the factory, “When I was fifteen, this was the first place Johnny ever assaulted me.”

“You said he proposed to you at your high school graduation, right?” Tara said, “That’s the connection to the school.”

Nodding, you continued, “And we were going to get married at the church.”

Spencer wrote this all down on the whiteboard as you fit the pieces of this puzzle together. “Is there anywhere else that would fit in with these other locations?”

Flipping through a file, you set papers down on the desk in front of your team. “That’s our house, it was set on fire not long after I left,” you pointed out. “That’s where he’s going next.”

“But who will his victim be? If we can get to her before he can, then we can stop him before he gets to her,” Matt mentioned.

Slowly, you turned around and faced your team, “I don’t intend on letting anyone else get hurt. This is between me and Johnny.”

who could stay?

You sat yourself down at the dining room table. Nothing in the house had been moved, its charred remains were left defenseless against Mother Nature. You knew this table, there was blood ground into the wood grain. It was your blood.

You wished they had torn the rest of the structure down.

Spencer didn’t like the idea of you going alone, but you were armed, and you had an earpiece in. You weren’t alone, the team was nearby in case things went wrong.

“Incoming, blue pick-up pulling into the driveway,” Luke said through the radio. “Suspect’s getting out, it doesn’t look like anyone’s with him.”

Realistically, you knew nothing was going to happen to you, but there was some small voice in the back of your head that told you something was going to go awry.

You wiped your sweaty palms on the floral-patterned chair. Part of you was grateful that the team had enough faith in you to send you to get a confession on your own, but another part of you wished someone would’ve asked you if this is really what you want to do. Sure, you wanted Johnathan Klein to be put away for a long time, but you didn’t want to be in this house. When you left, you had hoped you’d never have to set foot in this godforsaken town ever again.

Sitting up straight, the front door opened. You’re not sure why he opens the door when there’s a hole in the wall leading right to you. “I thought you might come looking for me,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I always knew you’d come back to me, baby,” Johnny spoke to you in a low voice, but you knew the team could hear.

“I didn’t come here for you, Johnny,” you whispered, keeping your voice steady. “I came for the girls who were murdered. I knew them, we both did,” you told him. That was the truth, you felt like you owed them because they died while you got to live.

He sat next to you, placing a hand on your knee. It was all you could do to not flinch away from him. “Then why did you bring that guy? If not to make me jealous, then why?”

“Johnny, if I go with you, will it stop?” You asked, turning to him, reaching out your hand, and placing it on his arm.

Humming, he reached out and brushed your hair behind your ear, luckily not the side where you had your earbud in. “I don’t know what you mean, babe. You’ll have to spell it out for me,” he said, pulling you to your feet abruptly. You didn’t see the knife when he first walked in, you didn’t even know he had it until it was to your throat.

But you weren’t twenty years old anymore. You had grown up. You had learned self-defense.

So, you caught him off guard when you hit him, causing the knife to clatter to the ground. “You bitch!” He growled, “I’ll fucking kill you!”

“You won’t kill me,” you said, planting your feet on the ground. “You had five years to kill me, Johnny.”

He stood up, “No, but I killed a part of you. Didn’t I? When I killed your baby?”

After all these years, he knew how to get under your skin. He got one hit off, across your cheek, the strike so hard that your earbud went flying across the room. “You killed the part of me that you created, that’s not who I am. I recreated myself, a version of myself without this godforsaken town.”

“But I got you here, back home. I killed all those girls for you to come back to me,” he said, running straight at you.

You hit him with your gun, you physically struck him with the butt of the gun. You could’ve shot him, it would’ve been clean, but you didn’t. That would’ve been easy for him. He dropped like a ragdoll and the rest of your team came rushing in. Someone was calling your name, but you couldn’t hear.

Matt ended up being the one who cuffed him, you slowly walked away from them. Backing yourself into a wall, you watched it all happen.

When you left your hometown, you never quite felt like it was over. He was always still going to be around. But this? This felt final.

It made your chest ache.

Gently, Spencer took your hand and led you outside. “It’s done?”

He nodded rapidly, “It’s over, angel. Emily and Luke are at the precinct taking Frank into custody. They’ll both go away for a long time.”

“Spence, I want to go home,” you whispered, looking down the road and seeing houses that you recognize from your childhood. This whole town was filled with your own ghosts. “Can we go home?”

Spencer didn't answer, he just pulled you into him and held you tightly. You let him inspect the wound on your cheek before you went back to the hotel and put everyone’s belongings in an SUV.

On the jet, the two of you sequestered yourselves in the back where it’s darker. He offered to let you lie down, so you rested your head in his lap. He used one hand to hold his book and the other to smooth your hair back. Your eyes were shut, but you were vaguely aware of the rest of the team as they took turns peeking back at the both of you.

you could stay

please remember to like, reblog, and comment

#written by margot #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid angst #spencer reid hurt/comfort #spencer reid x you #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds angst #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fic #criminal minds imagine

2K notes · View notes

adventuringblind · 6 months ago

Text

The Thrill of It (1.8K Words)

LandOscar x Reader

Genre: Street Racer AU, Smut

Summary: Sometimes the boys come back from races a little riled up, it doesn't help tonight that they get a bit possessive when someone lays a hand on what's theirs.

Warnings: PinV sex, unprotected sex, public sex, exhibitionist Lando, Sub reader, Dom Oscar, Oral, face-fucking, Hair pulling (?), minor degradation, Oscar being stressed after because AFTERCARE IS IMPORTANT OKAY

Notes: I'm back! Did you miss me? I think this is the most lewd smut I've ever done... But reminder that comments and filling my inbox with nice things motivates me to write!!

Side Note: MINORS AVERT YOUR EYES!! ADULT CONTENT AHEAD!!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

The lights amongst the crowd flitted about in shades of neon. The people are rowdy tonight on the sides of the street. All of them handing off their cash to each other to bet on which driver they think will win.

It’s a dangerous game with no medic on scene. She supposes that’s the thrill of it. Knowing there may be no return once they put their foot on the pedal.

Lando and Oscar are practically swimming in the cash now. While she isn’t in the spotlight, they certainly are. These are their streets. They know Woking like the back of their hands now.

Lando says he drives by feeling where Oscar has a map of the turns memorized. It speaks volumes about their character.

You’d think these idiots would stop betting so much on other drivers. She’s been here enough times to know they never learn. Always lured into a false sense of hope. She doesn’t mind it, simply finds it funny.

She finds herself entranced by the sounds of the engines, the people chanting their names. She sees other people oggle the two, hands becoming a bit more than friendly as the night progresses and alcohol is consumed.

A car pulls below her hiding spot. The second car driven, a truck she can sit in the bed of when things get overwhelming and the people too much.

Those friendly hands tend to slip when they see a pretty stranger. Boundary lines are crossed. Another thing they should know by now: Oscar and Lando are the kings of these streets and it’s best not to mess with their queen.

The bed of the truck shakes as they climb in with her. Their faces are half hidden in the dark. The other is illuminated by intermittent flashing lights.

Lando looks all too happy about the stunt he just pulled. A dangerous thing that could have killed him if not done right. The adrenaline has his pupils dilated. “Don’t think he’ll be coming back again. Gave him a run for his money… Liturgy!”

“Literally-”

“Yes, that’s what I meant - Literally!”

She tilts her head back and laughs. Drunk off the atmosphere of the night and maybe the fumes of whatever people have been smoking all night. “Scared him off then?”

“You know it baby!” Lando latches right onto her exposed neck with his teeth for all of two seconds before Oscar is dragging him off. It leaves them both whining. “Osc! I’m doing things!”

“You’re doing our things.” The dehumanizing language should not have her this hot and bothered, in Woking, in October. She’s wearing a skirt with nothing aside from panties underneath and one of Oscar’s zip-ups with a tank top. Not the best choice of clothing all things considered, but she could care less. Not when it gives them easy access when they are all riled up like this.

Oscar drags her into his lap. The feeling of strong thighs underneath her in almost the right spot has her whimpering. “Didn’t realize you’re already so needy for us darling. Forgot how much seeing us drive turns you on.”

She nearly cries when Oscar pulls her underwear to the side and slips a finger through her slit. “Look at this Lan! She’s a mess already!” Oscar’s free hand grips Lando by the collar and pulls him closer; nearly choking him out in the process. When his fingers are pulling obscene sounds from her, he brings them away. Up towards Lando’s mouth which unlatches to suck on them eagerly.

The Brits eyes roll back as Oscar jams four fingers down the back of his throat just for the sake of it. “S’pose you’ve earned it tonight, Lan. You’re already a mess anyhow and I think you’ve been leaking since you got out of the car.”

Lando mumbles something around Oscar’s fingers. It’s unintelligible - or she’s too lost in her haze to comprehend anything. Having slotted down on Oscar’s thigh to get some kind of friction.

The sound of Lando’s belt buckle coming undone becomes louder than the engines. Then the wet sound of lips clashing together. The hand Oscar previously had in Lando’s mouth is now around his neck.

The same story time and time again. Lando goes by feel where Oscar exudes superiority in how he has them memorized.

She clocks the hand on her waist moving to the back of her head. Oscar switches to kiss her instead. The filthy kind - all tongue and teeth. It keeps her occupied long enough for Lando to shimmy his boxers just far enough down.

“I knew you were leaking.” Lando makes a weak noise at that. Oscar’s words seem to have that effect on him. Both of them - really. “I bet you like showing off for all these people, huh? The possibility of us being caught like this. You get off on the thrill.”

The boys help her reposition her boy. Oscar gets two of his fingers in her, hovering just above Lando’s cock. Which - to Oscar’s credit - He’s not wrong. Lando is leaking like a faucet that has a consistent drip. It is mesmerizing and should be illegal.

Oscar gets a third in her, dutifully stretching her open despite having to support her weight. Lando thrusts into the air out of impatience which earns a lovely smack to the side of his ass. “You should know better, Love, that all good things come with time.”

She feels empty for all of two seconds before her body is plunging down onto Lando’s cock. She can feel him twitching behind her - trying to remain still until given the go-ahead to move. His hands paw at the slope of her back and curve of her ass.

In front of her, Oscar is undoing his own belt. She should’ve realized sooner how he had positioned them. How the truck bed is conveniently long enough to let Lando work out his residual energy by thrusting into her while Oscar makes use of her mouth.

He’s always three moves ahead of them.

She leans down, ready for him without him even having to ask. “Spit,” He commands. She does it without hesitation.

Oscar makes use of the makeshift lube and gives himself a few strokes before motioning her forward. She unhinges her jaw and relaxes her throat and still - she gags.

“See Lando, patience works wonders.”

“Please Osc, please - I’m dying over here-”

“Go ahead baby, you’ve earned it.” Oscar chuckles.

They find a rhythm. When one is going in, the other is going out. She’s drooling all down the exposed skin Oscar is showing.

“Best. Fucking. Reward. Ever~” Lando punctuates each word with a particularly hard thrust. The sounds are ridiculous and they are lucky that the sound of engines revving is drowning them out. If anyone is watching - well - they are certainly getting a show.

Oscar’s voice cracks. “Fucking hell, you two look so good.” She concludes the walls of his resolve are starting to crumble. That the grip she has on his waist to ground herself is enough to make him snap and throw him over the edge.

“You like the show, Osc.”

“You could say that.”

Lando likes to be seen and Oscar likes to watch. She likes everything in-between that. To be the object of their affections and an element of desire. Something they covet enough to lose themselves like this.

Everything gets messier - if that was even possible. Oscar snaps his head back and grips the back of her head so he can hold her stead and fuck her throat. Lando grips her hips and sets an unrelenting pace. Each movement is sloppier than the last. Each moan is more pitched.

She swallows. Her throat constricts enough for Oscar to growl from somewhere deep and sum without any warning. The tears are streaming down her face as she gags on the new and sudden change of consistency.

He drags her off and gives her no time to recover. Simply lunging forward and nearly sending her crashing backwards onto Lando. His hand goes back to the Brits throat while his tongue goes so deep into her mouth that there is no way he can’t taste himself.

Lando is a mess of high pitched whines. “Please - please I’m close-”

She inhales desperately as Oscar unlatches from her mouth only to find the sensitive spot on her exposed collarbone. “Osc-”

“I could keep you two like this forever. Desperate and whiny. Leaking with the thought of how good it would feel to cum.” They are both letting out desperate sounds. “I bet that guy from earlier would have stayed away then. So consumed by us that he could smell it on you.”

“Yesyesyes - please-” She’s going to lose her mind. Lando might be closer than she is and yet he won’t slow down. There is nothing but this until Oscar tells them yes. Because it feels better waiting for it.

And Lando will always go by feel.

“You’ve earned it Lando, fill our girl up yeah? Make her cry harder.”

Oscar has to cover her mouth as everything goes white. Her ears are ringing - swimming in the sounds of their voices and nothing else. It’s white hot blissful nothing. No thoughts or anxieties, no worries about some guy making passes at her.

Here she knows the two men who want nothing but to see her smile and cry for their cocks. Which is a stark contrast considering - but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Oscar recovers the quickest. Swiftly jumping out of the truck bed to grab their extra blanket and hoodies. “I can’t really clean you two up yet, but will this do for now?” He shifts his weight between feet. Normally more prepared, ready to meet the needs of physical pains and emotional needs that come with the aftermath.

They both nod and excitedly wait for him to climb back up. “That… was amazing,” she laughs. Her voice broken and hoarse from her throat being used.

Oscar winces. “I need to get you some water.”

“Osc-”

“Yeah.”

“Relax! It felt good! It was great and we’re okay.” Lando gestures to the two who can barely move. Bodies still twitching from the overwhelming sensations. “Now we shall bask in the glory that is the ridiculous amount of cash we made tonight!”

“What are you gonna spend it on?”

“You, of course!” Oscar leans her into his side as Lando throws an arm around her shoulders for good measure.

Cars begin to drive past. Leaving for the night either to wherever they are staying or another race. They wave off some of the familiar faces and flip off the annoying ones. Yeah - she wouldn’t have it any other way.

562 notes · View notes

nhaaauyen · 2 months ago

Text

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨ The Ghost of You ୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

"This thou perceiv'st, which makes thy love more strong // To love that well which thou must leave ere long." -William Shakespeare (Sonnet 73)

PART IV: TONIGHT, I WALK AWAY

zombie apocalypse sevika x reader au!: sevika was the super soldier; a killing machine driven solely by survival. you were nomadic, constantly searching for something in whatever was left of the world—till you met her.

series masterpost: part I // part II // part III // part V

wc: 7.8k cw: violence, angst, major character death author's note: Honestly I'm starting to get why TWD writers do what they do after writing this chapter... I also apologize for taking so long for this chapter, my classes are starting now so updates will be a bit a slower </3 **also some eastereggs but the sonnet 73 quote I have is mentioned in the scene where Grayson talks about love. It's pretty much the translated modern English definition of the quote! The make a wish dialogue is also from the movie Dangerously Yours (1937), that scene always gets me so I had to include it haha

You drift in and out of consciousness, the world around you a hazy blur of pain and disjointed voices. Through the fog, you catch glimpses of three figures engaged in intense discussion.

Sevika's there, her face etched with worry. Beside her stands a tall, bald gaunt man and a mask covering the lower half of his face. His eyes are sunken, giving him an almost skeletal appearance. The third figure is shorter, with slicked-back dark hair and a prominent scar running down one side of his face, his right eye a striking shade of green.

Their voices filter through your muddled thoughts:

"...low on medical supplies for a procedure like this," the masked man says, his voice muffled and clinical. "There's no sure chance she can make it."

"I'll go to the hospital."

"It’s too dangerous." The scarred man's voice is sharp and skeptical.

"We've been low on supplies for too long," Sevika argues. "It's time we do it now. We cannot lose any more people."

Their words fade as you slip back into darkness, only to resurface again as you're being moved. You have no idea how much time has passed, but you're on some kind of gurney, the ceiling passing by overhead. You try to move, but your limbs feel heavy and unresponsive. Glancing down, you see your wrists are handcuffed to the sides of the bed.

Panic surges through you as you realize you're being rolled into what looks like a makeshift operating room. The masked man and the scarred one are there, now wearing blood-stained surgical gowns. You try to fight, to call out, but your body won't cooperate.

The scarred man leans over you, his mismatched eyes boring into yours. "It will be over soon," he says, his voice oddly soothing despite the circumstances. Then he's lowering a gas mask over your face, and the world fades to black.

When you wake again, your mind is clearer, though your body feels like it's been run over by a truck. The scarred man is sitting in a chair beside your bed, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"Ah, you're awake," he says, leaning forward. "Good. I was beginning to wonder if we'd miscalculated."

You try to speak, but your throat is dry, raw. He holds up a hand, silencing you.

"No need to strain yourself. I just wanted to... observe you.” He pauses. "It's been a long time since I've had to perform a procedure like that. It’s quite a reminder of what still lurks beyond these walls. How we’ve grown complacent."

Your eyes drift to his face, lingering on the scar that runs down the right side, bisecting his eye. The eye itself is a startling shade of green, almost luminescent against his pale skin. You must have been staring, because the man chuckles, a dry, humorless sound.

"Curious, aren’t you?" A sardonic smile twists his features. "It’s only natural - people always wonder. But few ever ask. It’s a souvenir from when Zaun was still crawling out of the muck. When men I called brothers tried to drag me back down for a piece of land."

His finger traces the scar slowly, almost lovingly. "This... this was their parting gift." He trails off, then continues in a near-whisper. "Have you ever felt pain so exquisite it becomes transcendent? For days, I danced on the knife's edge between genius and madness."

His gaze refocuses on you, sharp and penetrating. "But pain, you see, can be transformative. It stripped away my naivety, my weakness. It forged me into something stronger, something capable of truly leading Zaun."

“I think I understand why Sevika is so fond of you." His lips curl into something that might be a smile but doesn't reach his eyes. "There's something in you, just like her. That part that's willing to sacrifice."

You furrow your brow, confusion, and wariness warring inside you.

"Some sacrifices are necessary to be made. But they're also weaknesses," He stands, smoothing down his shirt. "Something to consider."

With those cryptic words, he turns and leaves, the door clicking shut behind him. You're left alone, your mind racing with questions. Who were those men? What exactly happened to you? And how much time had gone by?

The weight of uncertainty presses down on you, and exhaustion soon follows. Despite your churning thoughts, your eyelids grow heavy, and you drift into an uneasy sleep.

When you wake again, its by the sound of shuffling feet and the creak of a door opening. The haze of sleep still clings to your mind as you slowly become aware of your surroundings.

Sevika enters, holding a plate of food. Her eyes meet yours, and for a moment, neither of you speaks.

"Hey," she says finally, her voice softer than you've ever heard it.

"Hey yourself," you reply, unable to keep a slight tremor from your voice.

Sevika sets the plate on your bedside table, then stands awkwardly, as if unsure what to do with her hands. "Thought you might be hungry," she mumbles.

You nod, a thousand questions bubbling up inside you. Where has she been? Why didn't she visit sooner? What happened after the surgery? But looking at her now, seeing the dark circles under her eyes and the way she holds herself - tense, guarded - you decide those questions can wait.

Instead, you pat the bed beside you. "Sit with me?"

Sevika hesitates for a moment, then complies. As she settles beside you, you feel the warmth of her presence, so familiar yet somehow changed.

"I missed you," you say simply.

Sevika's eyes widen slightly, a flicker of emotion crossing her face before she schools it back to neutrality. "I... I'm glad you're okay," she replies, her voice gruff but sincere.

As you and Sevika sit together, you try to maintain a casual conversation, but there's an undercurrent of tension you can't ignore. Sevika's responses are clipped, her gaze never quite meeting yours. It's like she's looking through you, not at you.

"Hey," you say softly, reaching out to touch her arm. "What's going on?"

She turns slowly, her eyes finally meeting yours. But there’s something different in them, something that makes your heart clench. It’s infuriating, this distance she’s putting between you, this wall she’s building brick by brick.

“Sevika,” you say, trying to break through that wall. “Talk to me.”

She crosses her arms over her chest. “Nothing can happen between us again,” she says, the words falling heavy between you like a death sentence.

You stare at her, disbelief mingling with hurt. “What?”

Her gaze flickers, something like pain flashing in her eyes before she steels herself again. “We can’t do this,” she says, her voice low and strained. “We can’t keep pretending this… whatever this is… can last.”

You feel the ground shift beneath you like the world is falling away, leaving you teetering on the edge of a precipice. “You’re really going to say that after everything?” Your voice cracks, the hurt seeping through despite your best efforts to keep it at bay. “How do you kiss someone, make them believe there’s something real, and then just—throw it away?”

Sevika’s jaw clenches, and she looks away, as if unable to bear the sight of your pain. “You can be mad at me, hate me if you want,” she says. “But it has to be this way.”

“I’m not mad,” you reply, your heart breaking with every word. “I’m hurt, Sevika. I’m hurt because I care about you, and you’re pushing me away like none of it matters.”

“I know,” she whispers, her voice so soft it’s almost lost in the hum of the machines.

“Then why?” you demand, your voice wavering as you struggle to understand. “Why are you doing this?”

She finally looks at you, really looks at you, and the anguish in her eyes is like a punch to the gut. “Because if I let myself love you,” she says, her voice breaking on the word, “I know we’d never have enough time. ”

Her words hit you like a tidal wave, drowning you in the despair that’s been brewing in your chest. “But isn't some time better than none at all? I'd rather have a handful of precious moments with you than spend the rest of my life wondering 'what if.'” The tears you’ve been holding back now streaming down your face.

“Even if it hurts, even if it's brief – at least it would be real.”

Sevika shakes her head, her expression a storm of anger and fear. Her words come out in a rush, like she can't hold them back any longer.

"You don't understand. I was okay before you. I was okay with the idea of dying, of existing day after day without purpose until my time ran out. But now?" Her voice hardens. "Now I'm terrified. I'm not okay with losing you. I'm not okay with the thought that you could walk out that door and never come back."

“I didn't need this. I didn't need you to come along and give me a reason to call this godforsaken place home. I didn't need you to make me want to survive instead of just exist.” She’s practically pleading now. “Don't you see what you've done to me? Needing you means I have something to lose."

The weight of her confession crushes you, the finality of it sinking in. She’s not just pushing you away—she’s tearing herself apart to do it, ripping out the very thing that might make her feel alive, all because she’s so afraid of the pain it could bring.

“I’d shatter every bone in my body again if it meant keeping you safe,” you say, your voice trembling. “I’d do anything for you, Sevika, and it hurts so bad that you won’t let me.”

She turns her head away. “You’re too stubborn,” she whispers, her voice resigned. “You won’t stop, and neither will I, and it’ll kill us both in the end.”

“You look at me like I’m already dead,” you say, your voice cracking with the weight of your grief. “Like I’m a ghost you’ve been carrying around, waiting for the right moment to bury me.”

She flinches, the words cutting deep. “Because that’s what it feels like,” she confesses. “I feel like I’ve already lost you, and it’s killing me. I’d rather lose you now when we still have a chance to walk away than lose you out there, where I can’t protect you.”

The following silence is deafening, the air thick with everything neither of you can bring yourselves to say. You reach out, your hand trembling as you gently caress her cheek, trying to offer comfort in the only way you know how. She leans into your touch for a moment, her eyes closing as if she’s trying to savor it, to hold onto it before it’s gone.

“Are you doing this to protect me, or are you protecting yourself?” you ask softly, the question hanging in the air like a lifeline, offering her one last chance to admit the truth.

She opens her eyes, and the pain you see there nearly undoes you. “Both,” she admits. “I’m protecting both of us. I’ll never survive the day I lose you. And I can’t—” Her voice breaks, and she swallows hard, her eyes pleading with you to understand. “I can’t live.”

Your heart shatters as the reality of her words sinks in. She’s already decided, already convinced herself that this is the only way to keep you both safe, even if it means tearing herself apart in the process.

“Can I be alone?” you ask, your voice small and broken, the words barely escaping your lips.

Sevika nods, her expression tightening as she takes a step back. “Yeah,” she says. “I’ll go.”

She turns to leave, but before she can take another step, you reach out. “Sevika, wait,” you say, your voice filled with desperation. “Can you hand me my bag?”

She hesitates, her gaze flickering to the bag and then back to you. After a moment, she nods and hands it to you, her fingers brushing yours for the briefest of moments, sending a jolt of longing through you. You rummage through the bag, your heart pounding as you pull out the familiar fabric of her shawl.

You hold it out to her. “This belongs to you.”

Sevika stares at the shawl, her eyes widening as she realizes what it means. For a moment, she just stands there, looking at it like it’s a lifeline she’s too afraid to grasp. Then, she takes it from you.

She looks at you, and in her eyes, you see all the things she wants to say, all the things she’s too scared to admit. And then, without another word, she turns and walks out of the room, the door closing quietly behind her, leaving you alone with nothing but the ghost of her touch and the scent of her shawl lingering in the air.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

You didn’t accept any visitors for days, under the guise that you were too tired and needed the rest to recover. But as tempting as curling in bed and crying over a woman that you never even had a proper relationship with was, you knew you couldn’t hide away forever.

Blinking, you see a group of people piling into your room.

Vander's deep voice rumbles, "Easy now, let's not overwhelm her."

Caitlyn is standing over you. "How are you feeling? Any pain?"

Before you can answer, Powder chimes in, "Bet you feel like you've been hit by a truck. Am I right?"

"Something like that," you croak.

Your attention is drawn to the doorway where Grayson stands, little Ren in her arms. The child is clutching Grayson's yellow armband tightly.

Grayson sets Ren down gently. "Go on, little one," she says softly.

Ren doesn't need to be told twice. She rushes to your bedside, her small hands gripping the edge of the mattress. "Miss, are you okay?" she asks, her voice shakes slightly. "Will you be like Sevika?"

The innocence in her question tugs at your heart. You reach out, ignoring the twinge of pain from the movement and the mention of Sevika, to pat her hand. "No, darling," you reply softly. "Sevika is unique. I'll be just fine."

Grayson moves closer, her stern expression softening slightly. "That was brave," she says. "But also very idiotic of you."

You frown at the comment, the words too similar to Sevika’s at the prison.

Vander's voice pulls you from your thoughts. "You gave us quite a scare," he says. "But you're tough. You'll pull through."

Caitlyn nods in agreement. "We've managed to replenish some of our medical supplies thanks to the hospital mission." she informs you.

Vi adds with a smirk, "And don't even think about trying to get up and be a hero again anytime soon."

“Yeah… I wouldn’t dream of it,” you respond hoarsely.

Over the next week, your family comes and goes, their visits being the highlight of your monotonous days. Grayson usually stopped by with Ren, the two were closer than you expected but Marcus had flitted in and out of Ren’s life so often that Grayson stepped up as a parental figure. You offered to take care of the kid while you were still bed-bound, and Grayson only reluctantly agreed when you assured her it wouldn’t obstruct your healing process.

You find yourself sitting up in bed, Ren cross-legged beside you. Math worksheets are spread out between you.

"If an apple cost three dollars and you needed to buy five apples, how much would that cost?"

Ren's brow furrows in concentration. "Um... fifteen dollars?"

You beam at her. "That's right! You're getting good at this."

A knock at the door interrupts your math lesson and Vi pokes her head in, her red hair slightly disheveled.

"Hey, time to get moving," she says with a grin.

You turn to Ren, giving her a warm smile. "Let's do this again tomorrow, sweetie?"

Ren nods enthusiastically, gathering her papers. "Alright! Bye-bye, miss! I hope you feel better!"

As Ren scampers out, Vi approaches, offering her arm for support. You wince as you stand, your body still protesting the movement.

“Easy,” she murmurs, her tone softening as she watches your struggle. “Take it slow.”

You grit your teeth, focusing on her voice, on the feel of her arm supporting you. Slowly, you manage a few steps, each one a little less painful than the last.

“How’s it feel?” Vi asks, keeping pace with you, her gaze never leaving your face.

“Like hell,” you admit with a shaky laugh, though there’s a small sense of victory in the simple act of standing on your own two feet again. “But better than yesterday.”

Vi nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Progress,” she says. “You’re getting stronger.”

As you slowly make your way down the hallway, Vi starts chatting about her day. "You wouldn't believe the shit from yesterday. We were chasing some survivors that tried to steal our shit through an alley, and then Sevika shows up out of nowhere and--"

The moment the words are out, Vi winces, realizing her mistake too late. You feel a sharp pang in your chest at the mention of Sevika's name.

"Uh, anyway, we got the guy in the end.” she says.

“She… was?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady.

Vi looks away, guilt flashing in her eyes. “Yeah,” she says softly. “Didn’t mean to bring it up.”

“It’s good,” you say, though the words feel like a lie even as they leave your lips. “It’s good that she caught them.”

Vi nods. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, forcing a small smile. “It’s okay. It’s just… I miss her. It’s stupid, we weren’t anything.”

“I know,” she says. “But it’s not stupid.”

There’s a long silence, the kind that’s filled with all the words neither of you know how to say. “If you didn’t have Caitlyn, would you be okay with all of this? Would you be able to live with everything we do?”

She’s quiet for a moment as she considers your words. “Do I have a choice?” she finally says, her voice tinged with a sadness you’ve rarely heard from her. “I have Powder. I have you, Vander… my family. I’d feel incomplete, sure, but I don’t have a choice. I have to keep going.”

“We’ll keep going, together.” She adds.

“Thanks, Vi.” Despite your gratefulness, her words feel like they’re coming from a distance, muffled by the grief you’re still trying to process.

Your family helps you through it all, they talk to you about everything and nothing, filling the silence with stories. The days pass, and slowly, you begin to reclaim small pieces of yourself. You walk more, the physical therapy sessions become less of a struggle and more of a routine.

And each night, when the room is quiet and you’re alone with your thoughts, you think of Sevika. It’s not easy. Some days, the weight of it all feels unbearable, like you’re drowning in a sea of what-ifs and lost chances. But you keep going, step by step, knowing that it’s all you can do.

One evening, after a particularly exhausting session, you lie in bed, staring up at the ceiling as your thoughts drift. You think about Sevika, about the last time you saw her, the pain in her eyes as she walked away. And you wonder if she feels the same weight, if she’s struggling just as much to move on.

You close your eyes, and for a moment, you imagine her here, standing by your side. And as you drift off to sleep, you could swear you hear her voice, soft and broken, whispering in the dark.

“I failed you.”

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

The pantry is filled with the scent of canned goods and the faint rustle of paper bags. You’re focused on stacking cans of beans when your grip falters, and one slips from your fingers.

Before it can hit the ground, a hand darts out and catches it. You look up to see a man with a cocky grin. He’s tall and lean, with slicked-back hair and piercing teal eyes. You don’t know why, but he looked oddly familiar.

“Well, well,” he drawls. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing down here? Are we that understaffed that we’re making the injured work now?”

You snatch the can back from him. “Not that it’s any of your business,” you reply curtly, setting the can back on the shelf, “but I wanted to do this.”

He chuckles, leaning against the shelf with a casual arrogance. “Looks like supplies are running a bit thin,” he comments slyly, his eyes flicking to the half-empty shelves. “Maybe you should take it easy before you use up what little energy we have left.”

You narrow your eyes at him, your patience wearing thin. “I’m not interested in your opinion.”

Before he can retort, the door to the pantry swings open with a loud creak, and Sevika steps inside. The air changes instantly when her gaze zeroes in on the man.

“Finn,” she growls. “What are you doing here?”

Finn straightens up and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Just making sure our friend here isn’t overworking herself,” he says innocently.

“Get lost,” Sevika snaps. “Now.”

With a lazy shrug, Finn backs off, giving you a final, lingering look before sauntering out of the pantry. The door closes behind him, leaving you alone with Sevika.

Sevika turns to you. “I was told you’re working here again,” she says, her voice sharp with disapproval. “Are you stupid? You’re barely healed.”

You bristle at her tone. "I needed to do something."

"Yeah, like babysitting Ren," she snaps. “Not this.”

"Why does it matter what I do?" you challenge, your voice rising.

For a moment, Sevika doesn’t answer, but then her eyes widen.

“You’re bleeding.”

You blink, confused. “What?”

You look down and see a trickle of blood seeping through the bandages on your side. The pain hits you a second later, sharp and burning, but you grit your teeth, refusing to show weakness in front of her.

“It’s nothing,” you say quickly, trying to downplay it. “I can bandage it myself.”

But Sevika is already moving toward you, her expression darkening with worry. “You’re not going back to your place like this,” she mutters. “Come on. My place is closer.”

Before you can protest, she’s already scooping you up into her arms. The world blurs around you as she carries you through the streets and you’re too shocked to resist.

When you reach her place, she sets you down on the edge of her bed, her touch lingering for just a moment longer than necessary before she pulls away.

“Just sit,” she instructs as she moves to grab a first aid kit from a nearby drawer.

“I can do it.”

Sevika shakes her head, her expression set in a way that leaves no room for argument. “I have experience with this,” she says quietly. “Let me.”

You watch in silence as she works. Her hands, usually so strong and rough, are gentle as they press a fresh bandage against your skin. There’s a tenderness in the way she handles you, in the way she refuses to meet your gaze as she focuses on the wound, that makes your chest ache.

Finally, Sevika finishes. She stands, the distance between you growing once more as she busies herself with putting away the first aid kit, her movements stiff and mechanical.

“Thanks.” You want to leave, not to be any more inconvenient than you already were but Sevika replies before you can say anything.

“You should rest,” she says, her voice flat, devoid of the warmth that was there just moments ago. “Don’t push yourself like that again.”

You reluctantly agree to stay and the tension in Sevika's shoulders eases slightly. She mumbles something about bringing dinner later and leaves you to rest.

Left alone, you take in your surroundings. The room is sparse, almost impersonal. Unlike the chaos in the other rooms, this space feels hollow. There are no personal belongings, no knick-knacks, nothing to suggest that she even uses this bed. It's as if the room itself is holding its breath, existing in a state of perpetual temporariness.

Exhaustion soon overtakes you, and you drift off to sleep. But you soon wake again at the sound of muffled voices. Through the haze of half-consciousness, you hear one of Sevika's people inviting her to a party, but she declines.

"Nah, I'm staying in today," you hear her say.

The voices fade, and you slowly wake up, disoriented. You stumble to the doorway of the living room, blinking sleep from your eyes. Sevika is there, dressed in casual clothes – a grey tank top and worn jeans with her hair down, falling in messy waves around her face. She's cleaning up, a pile of bottles in her arms when she notices you.

"You're awake," she says, startled. "Shit, did I wake you up?"

You shake your head, your voice still rough with sleep. "No, you're good... Do you need help with that?"

"No. Fuck, sit down. What are you doing walking around?"

Still groggy, you comply without argument, sinking into the couch. Sevika dumps the bottles in a bag and turns back to you.

"I'm making dinner," she says, washing her hands at the sink. "You're okay with instant noodles and spam?"

The domesticity of the moment catches you off guard. "Sounds delicious," you manage to say.

Sevika nods and turns to the small kitchenette. You watch her move around the space. It's surreal, seeing her like this – relaxed, casual, making dinner for you both. For a moment, you can almost pretend things are different between you.

Sevika settles on the far arm of the couch next to you, the small distance between you both feeling more like a chasm.

"Chopsticks or fork?" she asks, holding out both options.

"Chopsticks," you reply, and a ghost of a smile flickers across her face.

"Good choice," she murmurs, handing them to you.

You eat in comfortable silence, stealing glances at her when you think she's not looking. When you finish, Sevika collects the empty bowls.

"Want dessert?"

"Sure," you nod, watching as she retrieves an apple from the kitchen.

She settles back on the arm of the couch, peeling the apple with a small knife. "How's the physical therapy going?" Sevika asks, breaking the silence.

You shrug. "It's... going. Slow progress, but progress nonetheless."

She nods, placing slices onto a plate. "That's good. Don't push yourself too hard."

"Says the woman who never knows when to quit," you tease gently.

A wry smile tugs at her lips. "Do as I say, not as I do."

As you reach for the last slice, Sevika’s hand brushes your cheek. You freeze, the touch unexpected, and you look up at her, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest.

“There’s an eyelash,” she says softly, her voice gentle as she carefully removes it from your face. She holds it up for you to see, the tiny, delicate lash resting on her fingertip. “Make a wish.”

You stare at the eyelash, your mind racing with all the things you could wish for, should wish for. But the words stick in your throat, and you find yourself frozen, unable to think of anything that could possibly fix what’s been broken.

“Did you wish?”

You shake your head slightly, the corners of your mouth turning up in a sad smile. “I... I didn't get the chance.”

She raises an eyebrow, her gaze piercing as she studies you. “And there’s something you wish for?”

“Yes,” You hesitate, the words coming slowly, painfully, like pulling them from some deep, hidden place inside you. “I was wishing… that we were two other people. Two people who didn’t have to say goodbye.”

The silence that follows is thick, charged with the tension of emotions neither of you can afford to express. Sevika’s expression tightens, her jaw clenching as she absorbs your words.

“You know, if you say it out loud, it doesn’t come true,” she says, her voice rough, like she’s fighting against the vulnerability of the moment.

“Do you believe that?”

She looks down at the eyelash, still resting on her finger, before blowing it away into the air. Her gaze follows it for a moment before she looks back at you. “I don’t know what I believe anymore.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and unmovable, like a finality neither of you can escape.

“We should sleep,” Sevika says finally. “It’s late.”

You nod, knowing she’s right. There’s nothing more to be said, nothing that can change the way things are.

“Thank you,” you say softly.

Sevika looks at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable. Then she nods, just once, and steps back, letting you go. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” you echo, your heart heavy as you turn and walk away.

As you reach the end of the hallway, you glance back, just once. Sevika is still standing in the doorway, watching you, her figure framed by the dim light. There’s something in her posture, something in the way she’s holding herself that makes you think she might be wishing too—wishing for something that neither of you can have.

But then she steps back, closing the door behind her, and you’re left standing in the cold, empty hallway, the echoes of what could have been ringing in your ears.

⁺˚⋆｡°✩

The sun hangs low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the makeshift shooting range. You and Grayson stand side by side, both of you facing a row of targets at the far end of the field. You’ve been practicing your aim for a while now, but your focus has been off, your shots missing the mark more often than not.

“You haven’t said anything about my shit shot,” you mutter, glancing sideways at Grayson, expecting some form of criticism.

She shrugs, her eyes on the distant targets. "You're injured. Why would I?"

You snort. "Liar. Weeks ago, you'd have torn me apart. What's different now?"

Grayson doesn't answer, instead gesturing to a nearby bench overlooking the community below. You follow her, settling onto the worn wood with a sigh.The elevated view makes the world seem vast and small all at once.

Grayson passes you a canteen, and you take a long drink before speaking again. "You snitched to Sevika about me working."

Grayson raises an eyebrow. "Snitching? Are we ten?"

"She didn't need to know," you mutter, avoiding her gaze.

"You were going hurt yourself," Grayson says softly. "And you needed to see her. For closure, at least."

You fall silent, not wanting to delve into the complicated mess of emotions surrounding Sevika. Instead, you change the subject. "How's Ren?"

“Ren’s sleeping in today. She’s been up late these past few nights, working on that puzzle I gave her.” Grayson’s face immediately brightens at the mention of Ren.

“She’s got that stubborn streak. Wonder where she gets it.”

“Must be the company she keeps,” Grayson replies, her voice laced with affection. “Marcus is at the walls today, keeping an eye on things. It’s been quiet, for the most part.”

You nod, your gaze drifting back to the field. “It’s strange, isn’t it?” you muse. “Every day is the same. We do the same things, see the same faces… What makes it worth living?”

Grayson leans back on the bench, her eyes scanning the horizon as she considers her answer. “You make your own reasons,” she says finally, her tone thoughtful. “For me, it’s taking care of Ren. Making sure she has something to hold onto, something good in this world.”

There’s a pause, and you can tell Grayson is choosing her words carefully. “I never thought of myself as the maternal type,” she continues, sounding almost wistful. “But with Ren… It’s different. She’s taught me more about love than I ever knew. In whatever time I got left here, I want to continue it with her, to see her grow up and prove there’s still something more for us here.”

You feel a pang in your chest, suddenly remembering Sevika and her belief that there would never be enough time for the two of you. But where Grayson found strength in loving deeply despite that, Sevika chose to close herself off, to protect herself from the inevitable pain.

Grayson looks at you, her eyes filled with a quiet understanding. “Sometimes, the hardest thing is to keep loving, even when you know it won’t last. But that’s what makes it worth it. Knowing that you made the most of the time you had, that you loved fully, even if it hurts in the end.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut, the truth of them resonating with a painful clarity.

“It’s hard,” you admit, your voice barely audible. “When you know it’s not going to last.”

Grayson nods, her expression gentle. “It is. But that doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth it. You have to find your own reason to keep going, to keep loving, even when it seems like everything is falling apart.”

The conversation settles into a quiet lull, the words lingering between you as the sun dips lower in the sky. You take another sip from the flask, the burn of the alcohol doing little to numb the ache in your chest.

“You’re always looking out for us, making sure we’re okay.” you say after a moment, your voice tinged with admiration.

“I’m satisfied – knowing that I’ve done what I can to make this place a little better, to take care of the people who matter.”

“Thank you,” you say softly, the words carrying more weight than you intended. “For everything.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” she replies gently. “We’re all in this together. And besides,” she adds with a small, teasing smile, “someone has to keep you in line.”

You chuckle, the sound lightening the heavy atmosphere just a bit.

But the peaceful moment on the hill was brief, the tranquility shattered by the sound of rapid footsteps and panicked crying. You and Grayson turn to see Ren running towards you, her face streaked with tears and her small body shaking with sobs.

Grayson immediately drops to her knees, catching Ren in her arms. "What happened, sweetheart?" she asks, her voice calm but laced with urgency.

Ren tries to speak through her tears, her words coming out in broken gasps. "Daddy said... we were going on a trip... but the monsters... they blocked us and he couldn’t close the gate... now they're coming to get us!"

As if on cue, screams erupt from the direction of the community. You and Grayson exchange a quick glance, both reaching for your weapons without hesitation.

Ren clings to Grayson's yellow armband, her eyes wide with terror. "I want to go with you!" she cries.

Grayson cups Ren's face gently, her voice soft but firm. "Darling, listen to me. I will come back, I promise. But right now, you need to get to safety. Can you be brave for me?"

Ren nods, her lower lip trembling. You know without words what needs to be done - get everyone to safety.

You both sprint down the hill, Grayson carrying Ren. As you near the community, the chaos becomes more apparent. Gunshots ring out, mixing with screams of panic and pain. People are running in all directions, fear etched on their faces.

Vi appears beside you, her red hair wild and her eyes blazing. "We're seriously underarmed right now!" she shouts over the noise. "Sevika's crew is out!"

"We have to make do," you yell back, scanning the area. You spot Caitlyn and a few others on the walls, their snipers picking off threats in the distance.

You, Vi, and the handful of armed residents form a protective line, herding panicked civilians towards their homes. "Get inside! Lock your doors!" you shout, your voice hoarse from the effort.

Children cry for their parents, the elderly struggle to move quickly enough. You see a young mother stumble, her baby wailing in her arms. You rush to her side, helping her to her feet and guiding her to safety.

Everywhere you look, there's movement – people running, fighting, falling.

The air is thick with the stench of death and the deafening cacophony of gunfire. You're shoulder to shoulder with VI, both of you firing relentlessly at the endless wave of walkers. Sweat stings your eyes as you shout, "Vi! On your left!"

She pivots, taking down three walkers in quick succession. But for every one you drop, two more seem to take its place. The situation is rapidly spiraling out of control, and a sinking feeling in your gut tells you you're fighting a losing battle.

But suddenly, powerful headlights cut through the darkness as a convoy of trucks roars onto the scene. Your heart leaps – you'd recognize that cavalry anywhere.

As if materializing from thin air, more trucks appear, effortlessly mowing down walkers and clearing streets. One screeches to a halt in front of you, and then there she is.

A familiar figure vaults from the truck bed – Sevika, her red shawl billowing behind her. She swiftly unslings a shotgun from her back and starts blasting walkers left and right. Her face is composed, every feature carefully controlled, but when her eyes find yours, a fleeting shadow passes over them—a trace of fear and concern.

"You okay?" she shouts over the din, closing the distance between you.

You nod, breathless. "A lot are injured. I don't know, there's too many – I think they're coming from the west gate. Ren said something about Marcus not being able to close it."

Sevika's jaw tightens. She yanks out a radio, barking orders to dispatch teams to the west gate. In seconds, she's handing out weapons, her voice ringing with authority. "Split up! I want a team grabbing as many injured as possible. Anyone bitten, take them out."

As you move to join the fray, Sevika's hand clamps on your arm. "No," she growls. "What the hell are you doing? Get to safety with the others. You're still injured."

"Fine," you concede. "But I'm finding Grayson first."

Sevika gives a curt nod before sprinting back into action. You catch a glimpse of Vi, her red hair unmistakable as she leaps into a truck bed.

You weave through the chaos, dodging walkers and searching for Grayson. Gunfire echoes off buildings, punctuated by the revving of engines and the sounds of walkers being dispatched.

A scream to your left – you spin, firing instinctively. A walker drops, inches from a couple. You quickly wave to them to follow and you sprint to the safe house together. Your leg protests, but adrenaline keeps you moving.

Your heart pounds as you finally spot Grayson, but she's going the opposite direction.

"Grayson!" you shout. "Sevika and her team are here. We need to get everyone to safety!"

She doesn't slow down. "There's someone stuck in a car!"

That's when you see it - a vehicle surrounded by a writhing mass of walkers, their decaying hands clawing at the windows. Inside, you catch a glimpse of a terrified face.

Without hesitation, you sprint after Grayson. The two of you work in tandem, picking off walkers. When you reach the car, Grayson covers you as you wrench the door open. A young boy, no older than seven, practically leaps into her arms.

"We've got to move!" Grayson shouts.

You guys run, the child clinging to her as you lead the way. You’re clearing the path, and you’re halfway to the safehouse when you hear the dreaded click of an empty chamber.

"I'm out!" you yell.

Grayson turns, her eyes flashing with a decision you can see forming before she even speaks. "Take the kid. Go!"

"Wait, we can make it together!"

She shakes her head, placing the boy into your arms. "Sevika's crew is here, remember? I'll be okay. Get everyone to safety!"

Before you can protest, she's shoving you toward safety, using her body as a shield for the child. You run, every step feeling like a betrayal, but knowing you have to trust her.

You make it to a house, handing off the child to waiting arms. Your lungs burn as you gasp for air, eyes scanning the chaos for any sign of Grayson.

Suddenly, Sevika's there, her face smeared with grime and blood but her eyes alight with fierce triumph. "We closed the gate. Got them all."

Relief floods you for a moment, but then reality crashes back. "Wait, where's Grayson?"

Confusion flickers across Sevika's face, but before she can respond, a heart-wrenching wail cuts through the air. You both rush outside, joining a growing crowd.

The scene that greets you turns your blood to ice. Caitlyn is on the ground, her body wracked with sobs. Vi kneels beside her, arms wrapped around her shaking form. "I couldn't save her," Caitlyn chokes out between gasps. "I couldn't shoot them fast enough."

Her sniper lies discarded in the dirt, and that's when you see her. Grayson.

The world seems to tilt on its axis. You stumble forward, unable to process what you're seeing. Grayson, who was just beside you moments ago. Grayson, who sacrificed herself to save a child. Grayson, whose quiet strength held your community together.

She now lies on the ground, her body wracked with violent coughs, blood staining her lips. Her breaths had grown shallow, each one more of a struggle than the last, and when she reached for Sevika’s hand, you knew what she was asking for. Sevika’s fingers trembled as she grasped Grayson’s hand, and when Grayson whispered, “Do it,” you saw a flash of something break inside Sevika.

She obeyed.

The gunshot echoed in your ears, louder than the chaos around you, but it was the sight of Sevika gently closing Grayson’s eyes that broke you. Sevika had always been unbreakable, she seemed immune to the horrors of this world. But as she knelt beside Grayson, you saw the cracks forming. She closed Grayson’s eyes, her hand trembling just for a second before she stood up, towering over the body like a stone sentinel.

You could barely breathe, the grief suffocating you, making it impossible to think about anything other than how many bodies that needs burying tomorrow. How many families would be broken by the news? How many children would cry for family and friends who would never come home?

“Grayson?” Ren’s voice was barely a whisper, filled with innocence and confusion. The kid was supposed to be inside the safe house but instead, she stood there, eyes wide and uncomprehending, staring at the lifeless form on the ground. “Why is Grayson sleeping? Tell her to wake up… We won, didn’t we?”

You wanted to tell her something—anything—but the words choked in your throat. Ren dropped to her knees beside Grayson, her tiny hands shaking as they touched the cold, lifeless body.

Sevika finally moved, her expression unreadable, her walls up higher than ever. Without a word, she reached into her pocket and pulled out Grayson’s yellow band. She knelt down, her massive frame suddenly so small beside Ren, and gently placed the band in the child’s trembling hands.

Ren looked up at Sevika, eyes full of questions. But before anything could be said, Silco emerged from the shadows, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous intensity. He was flanked by his men, their faces grim and cold, and at the center of it all was Marcus.

He was barely recognizable—his face a mangled mess of bruises and blood. He was dragged forward, forced to his knees in the dirt where Grayson had fallen. The sight of him brought Sevika to her feet, her fists clenched tight. You could see the battle raging inside her, the desire to end him right then and there, but she held back.

"Look at him," he began, his tone soft, almost conversational, as if he were discussing something trivial. "A man who betrayed the very community that kept him protected him fed and protected. Who left nothing but the ashes of his own cowardice."

He walked slowly around Marcus, like a predator circling its prey. "This is the price of betrayal, the cost of thinking you can stand in the way of what must be done. You all know him," Silco continued, addressing the crowd that had gathered, their eyes fixed on the broken man at his feet. "You know his face, his uniform, his lies. But you must also know this: in a world where there are no second chances, there are no second thoughts."

Silco’s voice grew harder, colder, as he leaned down close to Marcus’s ear. "Your cowardice, your betrayal, a mistake that cost how many lives today? And now, you will pay the price for that."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final, and Marcus’s body shuddered, knowing what was coming. Silco straightened, his eyes scanning the crowd. "Let this be a lesson to all who would think to cross us, to cross me. There is no forgiveness in this world, only retribution."

You don’t know what happened next, because you’re taking Ren into your arms and you’re moving – away from the crowd, away from the punishment that you know her father will face.

Ren clings to you, burying her face in your chest, and you hold her close, wishing you could shield her from all of this. "What’s happening to Daddy?" she asks, her voice muffled by your shirt. "And Grayson?"

You didn’t have an answer. The only thing you could do was hold her tighter, trying to block out the screams, the fire, the blood.

Time passes, the night dragging on in a blur of grief. Inside the house, the silence was deafening. You had scrubbed the blood from Ren’s skin, but it still lingered in the air, the scent of death refusing to leave. Grayson’s face kept flashing before your eyes, her last breath, her last words, the way her body crumpled in Sevika’s arms.

And now, as you stared out the window, you saw them—Silco’s men, forming a straight, omnious line as they marched out into the night. At the center of it all was a giant wooden cross, and tied to it was Marcus. His head hung low, his body limp, but he was still alive.

Your breath caught in your throat when Sevika looked up at the window. For a moment, your eyes locked, and you saw nothing in her gaze but a cold, empty challenge. The Sevika you knew wasn’t there, but replaced by someone who had buried whatever was left of her soul beneath layers of survival and duty. She turns away, breaking the gaze as she climbed into the backseat of a vehicle. You watch as the trucks disappeared into the night until the only thing you could see was the small form of the cross.

The night presses in around you, heavy with loss, and you wonder if anything would ever feel whole again.

taglist:

@mirconreadzztuff22 @lils-1979 @veoomvroom @schmoni

@poxismind @kittykatz1227 @archangeldyke-all @abbyssgf @ivorydevil

@lez-zuha @iamastar @jellyfishrnice @anemoxlys @l0vel3tterl0ver

@lavendersgirl @h0pe-scotch @lia-winther @kittykatz1227 @dontknowwhenispawned

@sevikitty @sarahduke @raphaellearp @cewl-casper @crying-lighting443

@sodavrr @sweet-lover-girl @love-sevikalove @pinkyykisses @glass-apothecary

@mulan-but-gay @lesbnrock @hyuckiesoftie

#arcane sevika #sevika #sevika imagine #arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #grayson arcane #wlw fanfic #zombie apocolypse au #sevika x female reader

281 notes · View notes

chocosvt · 3 months ago

Text

HER | part six (m).

✧✎ synopsis: wonwoo, a heartbroken and burnt out writer nearing the end of his math degree, wants nothing to do with the seemingly perfect, intimidating girl who has everyone under her thumb. you. unfortunately, his literary talent has got him shoved him between a rock and a hard place when you want to write a book and require his expertise. you two are the furthest from compatible. wonwoo can’t see this going well. at all.

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader word count: 22.6k genres/tropes: writer!wonwoo, university!au, plug!vernon + boyfriend!mingyu as prominent side characters, SLOWBURN (i am not fucking around this is my slowest burn yet), relationship drama, soul searching, strong angst/hurt (i’m coming for the jugular), comfort, romance, smut, a smoothie of every emotion on earth.

(!) warnings: drug use (weed, cocaine, ecstasy), wonwoo has anxiety + anxiety attacks + fairly dark thoughts, prescribed medication, gambling, intense language, infidelity, throwing up.

✧✎ a/n: just some quick things i want to make apparent!

the fic is told from wonwoo’s pov, not the reader’s!

all major timeline events are organized through chronological dates

any smut or potentially triggering scenes are NOT MARKED bc the content is already quite mature, so just plz be aware of that!

bolded and italicized text implies the characters are conversing in korean, tho it doesn’t happen often!

the fic in its entirety is 140k, so it has been split into 6 parts.

here it is... the FINAL part 😭 it seemed that a number of you were quite worried as to how i'd wrap this up, and i can finally give you the answer! :3 this has been an epic journey. thank yew for ur time 💕

more rambling continues at the very end. as per usual. again, a little bit more of an early upload! as a treat <3

⇢ part one | part two | part three | part four | part five ⇢ soundtrack for those curious! ⇢ read at ur own pace! :)

—SEPTEMBER 30TH.

The morning after was strange.

Early sunlight permeated through the living room’s white cloth curtains, dappling in water-like speckles against the glasses still held on his nose. For a moment, Wonwoo was frozen, as his mind made the shift from deep sleep to consciousness, though when he finally did awaken to find his blanket half-pushed off the recliner and the remnants of Chinese takeout left scattered across the coffee table, his lethargy started fading.

Vernon was gone.

Judging from the text on Wonwoo’s phone, the boy had quietly made his way out at around seven in the morning. It surprised Wonwoo to no end that Vernon could manage to sleep so little yet remain fully functional all the time. He seemed magic—or maybe it was something else that Wonwoo would be concerned to know about.

He spent some time cleaning off the coffee table.

Down the hall, his bedroom door remained closed.

When you finally did emerge, it was with the olive-green dress draped over your arm and the ivory heels in hand, which you proceeded to arrange on the small dining table by the kitchen.

Notably, however, there was something off about you, something that Wonwoo interpreted as nerves with an underlying awkwardness you didn’t typically, if at all, demonstrate. When he asked if you wanted breakfast and tea, your response was a tiny head shake and a poorly fit smile. Though, Wonwoo wasn’t going to paw at you.

He found that mornings always tended to be quite sobering, even if he hadn’t exactly drunk enough to make the room spin or swallowed some colourfully disguised pill on his tongue. Just the air was enough to rewire his head—that cooler, crisp air that he either loved or hated.

Undoubtedly, you had much to think about.

Wonwoo helped you get a hold of Princess using his phone, and the two of you watched television in silence while waiting for her to pick you up. He escorted you down through the pottery shop when it was time, and you sported very little shame, walking out onto the bright city sidewalk in just his t-shirt, clothes and shoes wrapped in your arms. Princess had this awfully perplexed look slapped onto her face while leaning over to nudge the car door open for you, and in that moment, Wonwoo was scared of how it all appeared and what might transpire now that the giddiness and frivolity from the night before had ebbed away. He didn’t regret anything, though. Not at all.

But, in truth, what the fuck even were you two?

And what was supposed to happen now?

—OCTOBER 3RD.

Since you had left his apartment in a daze that Saturday morning, Wonwoo hadn’t seen or heard from you. It was concerning him as time passed, he couldn’t deny it, but he also trusted you and wanted not to make you feel pressured into explaining yourself.

He was caught in a brisk walk along campus after leaving his early lecture, a warm coffee cup pressed against his lip that he had grabbed from the ground floor of SRX—they had been giving hot drinks away for free, and, consequently, it tasted like it. Nonetheless, the air was chillier by the day as autumn pushed its way in and decorated the walkway with dry leaves that rustled and crunched under his shoes. It was nice to have something hot in his hand.

He took a second to glance down at his phone.

Still, no messages from you, Wonwoo realized with a suckling sip of the very watery coffee, nearly tempted to text you himself—not anything pushy—just a simple reassurance that he was there for you if things weren’t going well.

Suddenly, however, Wonwoo had smacked into someone.

“Fuck—sorry,” he muttered, readjusting the computer bag slung over his shoulder and pushing up his circled glasses.

To Wonwoo’s complete and utter misery, he was unfortunately acquainted with the person he’d bumped shoulders, and now he was wishing that he had just kept walking like an impatient asshole.

Seokmin was standing before him, dressed in a similar-style woolen trench coat that his hands were stuffed into, the sun turning certain threads of his chocolate brown hair all shimmery. He hadn’t gotten back to Seokmin’s numerous texts ever since Wonwoo sent a brief, very purposefully vague message to the boy that night he ran out with you at the dinner party.

Now he was wondering if the shoulder bump was intentional.

“Wonwoo… uh, hey,” Seokmin stumbled.

Sniffling, Wonwoo let a second or two pass before answering.

He was still debating whether or not to walk away.

“What’s up?”

“You just get out of class, or?”

Wonwoo nodded. “Yeah—advanced stats.”

Seokmin flitted a barely-there smile, staring at his coffee cup.

“Is that the free stuff from SRX?”

“Indeed.”

“How does it taste?”

“Uh, watery… like shit, basically.”

Wonwoo knew—he fucking knew—that there was something buzzing on the tip of Seokmin’s tongue that he just couldn’t spit out. His absentminded expression and clear not-giving-a-damness about whether Wonwoo’s free coffee was actually good completely betrayed him. Not wanting to dawdle and get stuck in the mud of conversation, Wonwoo swallowed the lump in his throat, flashed his friend a tight-lipped smile, and pitched a goodbye, blandly wording it as, “I won’t keep you. Later.”

But Seokmin didn’t seem prepared to let that happen.

And Wonwoo’s eyes nearly rolled backward into his skull when the boy turned around and attempted to catch his attention again.

For some stupid, incomprehensible reason, Wonwoo stopped.

Maybe he knew the conversation needed to happen.

It only made him loathe the situation more.

“Yeah?”

Seokmin dragged a hand through his hair, brushing it up and down against the back of his head while he squinted at Wonwoo.

“I think… uh… if you’re not busy… I think there’s maybe some stuff we need to talk about. I don’t mean to like, catch you at a bad time or anything… do you wanna go sit at the picnic table over there?”

At Seokmin’s carefully suggested inquiry, Wonwoo followed the boy’s pointing finger toward the empty table placed on the large grass circle that the walkway wove around. With his grip hardening into the coffee cup, Wonwoo stopped to think despite knowing his answer.

“Okay… yeah.”

Wonwoo realized it had never felt this weird and stilted to sit down with Seokmin despite him being quite a reliable friend over the months, though Wonwoo was developing the sneaking feeling that his study buddy was about to deal an irreparable blow to their relationship. Seokmin’s folded hands were sitting atop the flecked, aged wood of the table, thumbs nervously twiddling, meanwhile Wonwoo remained silent to sip from his coffee that only became more and more tasteless.

Eventually, his friend seemed to find the words he needed.

“So, I don’t know if you’ve heard… but… Her and Mingyu are taking a break. They’re officially pressing the big pause button. I wasn’t there to witness the conversation, although I get the gist it was a pretty… uh, unpleasant talk,” Seokmin winced, bracing his teeth, “and… well, naturally, I learned that you were a big part of that talk, seeing how it looked and all—you and Her running out at the dinner party…”

He left what seemed like a purposeful pause, and Wonwoo assumed that he was supposed to feel pressured and jump to make a correction or provide an explanation, but he kept silent and rather expressionless. Ironically, Seokmin was the one to continue his spiel.

“Well, basically, there were some accusations thrown around as you can imagine. And I’m not sitting here to point a finger and question you to death about everything, but I just thought I’d give you the table—uh, literally—to explain what’s been happening.”

Wonwoo finally set aside his drink, then shifting off the strap to his computer bag, letting it fall down his shoulder. He didn’t make a huge, overwhelmed sigh even though his body was screaming for it, nor did he ponder abandoning the conversation despite the magnitude of everything Seokmin laid out for him.

Fuck—he hated being matured.

“I can’t speak on her feelings. But I like her.”

“Oh—you do?” Seokmin was astonishingly surprised.

Wonwoo shrugged. “Yeah.”

“So, then, does that mean—”

“Actually, sorry, I’m downplaying it like a coward,” Wonwoo interrupted, shaking his head, “I don’t just like her. I’m in love with her.”

It was then that Seokmin simply didn’t speak at all. His mouth had formed a hollowed shape, resembling something like a gulping fish, and Wonwoo capitalized on the silence to keep his thoughts fluent.

“I understand, okay? I understand why Mingyu is pissed. It takes two to tango, I get all that. And I know you probably want me to state my regret and all that so I don’t seem like such an asshole, but, honestly, I don’t really regret anything. Mingyu doesn’t care about her.”

Seokmin chuffed, rubbing at his chin. “Okay… I don’t know if I would go as far as to say that in particular. But you are admitting to it? I don’t know what it is you’ve done but you’ve done things with Her.”

“We’ve never had sex if that’s what you’re asking.”

“And—”

“We’ve never kissed, either… the only thing I was supposed to do was help her write that little love story. Which you set up, by the way. I didn’t know it would turn into this. I tried to get out of it.”

“I never thought she would stick it out.”

“I know.” Wonwoo sucked in his bottom lip, staring across the weathered wood at Seokmin. “You probably wanted her to drop it the second she mentioned it. I bet Mingyu thought the same.”

Seokmin scrunched up his face in disagreement. “That’s not necessarily true. She just fixates on stuff and then burns out after. She's always been like that, ever since I've known her. I figured the book would be no different. I thought it was something she needed to get out of her system, I didn’t think it would start rolling and—” he leaned forward into his palms for a moment, swallowing audibly. “Sorry, I just—I don’t get it, that’s all. I don’t get her fixations.”

“I think you’re just uncomfortable with her self-expression.”

“She—it’s not self-expression, though. Look, I know a pinch of what her story is about. It’s not about herself. It’s about Mingyu.”

“You think that just because she’s writing about someone else, there’s no pieces of herself in it? Her own feelings? Her own perspective? C’mon, Seokmin. You’re fucking smarter than that. You know what it's actually about.”

His friend’s eyes drifted away from him.

Wonwoo then cleared his throat. “Look, you don’t really need all the details, Seokmin. Like I said, I don’t know exactly how she feels about me. I can surmise. I can say we’ve had moments that we shouldn’t. But—genuinely—you probably know more than I do and you’re lying to yourself if you can’t realize that Mingyu is just some advantageous prick who makes her miserable.”

“Well, I think that—I don’t know if it’s really—”

“He walked into an opportunity with her and he knew it. His whole fucking life and career was basically set up for him the second he met her family. He’s beyond lucky Her ever looked his way.”

“Jeez, Wonwoo. Honestly, it’s not like that.”

“How is it not?”

Seokmin ran a hand through his hair, appearing flustered and without a tongue to make sense. “Just—okay—I’ve been around them a lot. I know how it seems from an outsider’s view. They can argue and push buttons. Their relationship isn’t perfect, but whose is? Mingyu didn’t just walk into the family asking for this and that—he’s never asked for anything, no handouts. Everything that’s been ‘set up’ for him was because Her’s family wanted it. They know he’s a good guy.”

The scoff shot from Wonwoo’s mouth like an arrow. “I’m sorry but, what do they want for Her? Were we at the same dinner party? Did you see her nearly burst into tears? She has to live life in this rigid box, trying to conform to everyone else around her. Don’t you think she wants to live her own life? Be her own person?”

“Of course, but—”

“No—why is there even a ‘but’?”

“I don’t think you understand. Her has everything she needs.”

“You mean, what everyone thinks she needs.” Wonwoo tossed his hand up in the air, laughing, while also getting the strong impulse to ring out his friend’s neck. “It doesn’t make any sense to me. How can you be so close to her, but you don’t realize how unhappy she is? You know what I think? You’re part of it, Seokmin. You're always in her business, hovering, watching, sewing seeds of doubt, shooting down her interests—and you disguise it as help. No one in that house listens to her. They’ve told her who she should be instead of letting her figure it out for herself. How can you be so complicit in that? She gets no support from any of you, about the decisions in her life that actually matter. And Mingyu—honestly, he can go fuck himself. He’s just as complicit as you. He’s soul-sucking.”

“God—sh-she’s an adult.” Seokmin was exasperated, his cheeks reddening like two ripe apples. “She doesn’t have to visit her parents. She doesn’t have to date Mingyu. Nothing is forced on her. No one is dragging her there. I help because I know what she's capable of. I know the perfect life she can have. Her parents know, too. But she just gets sidetracked! She gets wrapped up in stuff that doesn't matter! If she hates everything, she can easily walk away.”

“But you guys have made that so impossible for her.”

“How?”

Wonwoo proceeded to clench his fist up so tight he thought his skin might bleed, the edge of his knuckles pressing down on the table.

“She doesn’t know who the fuck she is.”

Seokmin instantly paled. He looked whiter than a snowflake.

“That’s like clipping a bird’s wings and then asking why it can’t fly away. Knowing who you are is such a big part of life. It’s arguably the foundation. What the fuck do you want her to do? I don’t even—I honestly don’t even want to look at you, Seokmin. Let Mingyu beat me up if he wants to—let it happen a thousand times—” slinging the computer bag back over his shoulder, Wonwoo was rising from the picnic table while glaring down at the stiff, empty-faced Seokmin, who had suddenly morphed from a friend to a bitter stranger, “—I don’t care what he thinks. It’s not going to change how I feel about her, or make me stay away. I’ve seen who she can be and what she actually wants from life, and it's not some snotty, vapid, copy-and-paste hell that her parents are forcing on her. But neither of you seem to give a shit. You’re both completely undeserving.”

Stepping away from the bench, Wonwoo tensed his jaw as the sunlight splashed over him, breaking in between the skeletal trees and their resilient orange leaves. “Got everything you wanted to know? Go run it back to Mingyu. I’m sure that’s what you were gonna do anyway.”

The anger in his chest felt like it was going to crawl out from his mouth and squeeze Seokmin into a ball, therefore Wonwoo exercised his breathing while on a strict path back down the walkway.

Abandoning Seokmin did hurt him more than he had thought, knowing he just lost a friend from his already very limited circle, someone whom he clicked with so readily. At the same time, however, there was a lightness about it. As Wonwoo’s frustration seeped out during the walk back to his apartment, some of the weight pressed into his shoulders released itself like water evaporating from a blacktop.

He just wished he could be at your side more than anything.

There was obviously a reason for your silence.

[ Wonwoo | 11:28 am ]: I heard about the break.

[ Wonwoo | 11:28 am ]: I’m here if you need anything at all.

…

[ Her | 4:05 pm ]: you talked to seokmin?

[ Wonwoo | 4:07 pm ]: Yeah. Never again.

[ Her | 4:07 pm ]: mingyu is so mad

[ Wonwoo | 4:07 pm ]: I figure.

[ Her | 4:08 pm ]: please avoid him if you can. i’m worried

[ Wonwoo | 4:08 pm ]: I’m not.

[ Her | 4:08 pm ]: wonwoo he’s seriously pissed

[ Her | 4:08 pm ]: can’t you hang out with vernon some more

[ Wonwoo | 4:09 pm ]: Seriously?

[ Her | 4:09 pm ]: yes

[ Her | 4:09 pm ]: mingyu got into trouble with dots and had a real big scare. so he doesn’t like to mess much with him or his friends. he'll showboat but that's about it

[ Her | 4:09 pm ]: well ik dots died but u get the point

[ Wonwoo | 4:10 pm ]: Fair.

[ Wonwoo | 4:10 pm ]: But I can’t just pull Vernon around as my Mingyu repellent lol. Honestly, if he wants to rock me, idc.

[ Her | 4:10 pm ]: well I do care

[ Her | 4:10 pm ]: ugh

[ Her | 4:11 pm ]: life has been sucking so hard lately

[ Wonwoo | 4:11 pm ]: I want to come see you.

[ Her | 4:11 pm ]: I want that too. but I need more time, k?

[ Wonwoo | 4:12 pm ]: I know.

[ Wonwoo | 4:12 pm ]: Here if you need me.

—OCTOBER 18TH.

For the past two weeks, Wonwoo had been walking around with the looming possibility of getting jumped by your six-foot tall, rather muscley boyfriend, and he was thus very relieved to have made it this far without eating a fist to the face. Well, now Mingyu was an ex.

Maybe.

The pause in your relationship read like a gray area that Wonwoo had been treading the thinnest eggshells on, prompting him to wait and hear the truth from you directly whenever you felt steady enough to tell him. He wondered if today might be that day.

Placing another strawberry onto the cutting board, Wonwoo chopped his knife through the leafy green bit, removing the stem. The cleaned-up strawberry was then dropped into a bowl of fresh ones that you had been picking away at for the past few minutes or so.

Wonwoo smiled while grabbing another berry to cut.

“I feel like this bowl hasn’t gotten any fuller, for some reason.”

Your legs were swinging as you sat atop the small kitchen island while looking down at his every movement with the knife. Once he dropped another cut strawberry into the bowl, you scooped it out.

“Just making sure they don’t go bad,” you responded, shrugging.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “The fruit you buy usually goes bad within the minute? Are you getting into a fist fight with it?”

You poked at his hip with your socked foot. “Well, you said you were cutting it for me. So can I eat it or not? I’m getting mixed signals.”

“No, of course you can eat it. I’m just teasing.”

“I don’t do too well with delayed gratification.”

Wonwoo smiled at you, proceeding to remove the last few strawberries from the basket to cleanly dissect their stems. He then turned around, tossing the cutting board and knife into the stainless-steel sink with a clatter. After washing his hands, he was back at the island, noticing that the bowl was now seated in your lap like a bag of movie theatre popcorn with just the perfect amount of butter and salt. For a moment, Wonwoo didn’t say anything—that focused look to your face as you ate the fruit he prepared was much too captivating. He wanted to catch one of your swinging legs, pull you right to the counter’s very edge and have you wrap yourself around him. He wanted everything with you.

In your earlier days together, Wonwoo used to be a lot more evasive about his staring (at least, that’s what he wanted to believe), but now he didn’t feel as required to be so painfully subtle and imperceptible about things. He let you snack until you were satisfied, the empty bowl then being exchanged with a damp rag to clean your fingers.

“So,” clearing his throat, Wonwoo braced his hands against the granite island and glanced at you from behind his glasses, scanning down the unbothered, relatively straight face you had, “everything going okay?”

Pressing your lips together, you nodded, making only an “mhm” sound that didn’t leave much to be interpreted.

Wonwoo saw the hands that plunged swiftly between your thighs, how you were quick to squeeze around them, like there existed something weighted and hidden.

He wanted to leave it up to your discretion—he really did.

“Okay, that’s good… just—uh, he’s not giving you a hard time, right? He’s not bothering you at all?” Wonwoo asked, adjusting the rim of the black beanie he’d thrown on to keep his messy hair tucked back. “I don’t mean to disinter anything. I’m only asking because I—”

“Because you care,” you finished his sentence quietly with a trusting and faint smile, “I know. Thank you. It is hard for me, though… I don’t know why this particular thing is so hard but it is.”

Wonwoo slid his hands together, moving them slow along the cold granite. “No… that’s understandable. I get it plenty.” Hell—he didn’t just get it—Wonwoo had miserably and insufferably lived it for damn near a year at that point. In fact, tomorrow would mark the day that he came home to this same apartment only to discover the interior stripped of all the traces, sentiments, and artifacts that breathed miraculous life into the girl he once thought to be his other half.

A whole fucking year without Jeanie.

How flipped things were. How oddly coincidental that he was now in the same space but with a new person to create everlasting memories. You had the most opposite personality and spark.

Wonwoo sighed. He got close to you, settling his hand atop your knee before gliding it underneath your thigh, gripping at you firmly and pulling you forward until he was bracketed in between your legs. Your response was smitten, and he couldn’t deny that he loved to practically see your heart beating under your chest in addition to sensing the warmth that flourished off your skin like you were sizzling in a pan.

Wonwoo set one hand down on the counter, right next to your hip, while the other tended to the side of your face, his fingers running behind your ear and down the slender path to your silk-smooth neck.

“Look…” he breathed out, finding your eyes that were now a bit watery and tinged with stinging emotion, “I know it’s hard. And I would never rush you into figuring things out… but I like you…” Wonwoo swallowed, letting his thumb play with your earring meanwhile his deep voice triggered the sharp, raised hairs spreading down your arms like an electric current, “I love spending time with you—even just being in the same room as you, getting to stare at you—but I just—when I don’t know what you are to Mingyu, I don’t know what to do with us.”

You drew in an immediate breath, then releasing a quiet laugh mixed with a runny sniffle. “I-It seems like you know…”

He pushed both his hands into the countertop, smiling at you.

“Well, I know what I want to do…” Wonwoo murmured, gazing so intimately into your eyes as the oceans he urged to drown in, “but you have to understand my reservations about it. That’s all.”

Bringing a pinky finger to your mouth to nibble on, you nodded.

Softly, he pinched the bare expanse of your waist. You gasped.

“Because I do, in fact, want you.”

You didn’t say anything, although Wonwoo noted that you were staring back into his gaze with so many hues of simple human emotion pulsating behind your eyes—there was frustration, possibly at yourself and everything you couldn’t yet communicate, and twinkles of impulse that matched rhythm with your heart. Then, employing unforeseen abruptness, your fingers were running down the back of his neck all ticklish and he felt the warmth from your breath feather his lips as you moved in closer, smirking at him, hazy like a sunrise pouring its light through a thick cover of morning fog.

“If you can be patient for just a little longer, you'll have all of me.”

Thankfully (or maybe not so thankfully judging from the pure adrenaline coursing through his veins in a hedonistic, addictive sort of way) there were a few knocks at his door.

Your eyes rolled. “Is that your landlord or something?”

Wonwoo took a step back, letting you slide off the countertop while he adjusted his glasses and brushed down his t-shirt. How were you suddenly so casual? One second you were chewing nervously on your finger with the timidness of a newborn doe and the next—back to your typical self. He watched you approach the door, tilting his head.

“Uh, maybe? She usually texts me, though.”

“Or Seokmin with a batch of chocolate apology brownies.”

He chuckled, folding his arms. “Doubt it.”

Really, Wonwoo had no idea who it could be. It possibly was his landlord who had perhaps forgotten her usual warning text, or maybe his younger, sometimes irresponsible neighbour across the hall who would specifically ask to borrow his scent-free laundry detergent every now and then. As long as it wasn’t Lady Liberty on the other side (in Vernon’s tried and true nicknaming spirit) then Wonwoo had no reason to care.

“Welp,” you made a balmy, popping sound with your lips, “only one way to find out. I think I can smell the chocolate.” But once the door was pulled open, that little joking smile fell from your face concerningly fast, as though someone had plucked it right off.

Fuck—Wonwoo thought right off the cuff—it was Lady Liberty.

Your head quirked ever so slightly. “Uh, hello…”

Whoever the person was, they were just outside the threshold of what Wonwoo could see from his spot in the kitchen—except, now he didn’t think it was Mingyu at all, since your tone seemed more confused than anything else.

For a moment, Wonwoo just stood where he was, not particularly understanding why he couldn’t even twitch a measly finger.

“Hi—I’m sorry, is this the—is this—does Wonwoo still live here?”

From across the room, you shifted him a glance.

There was a heavy pause before you answered.

“… Yeah.”

“O-Oh, well… um… I’m so sorry, but are you living here as well? Is he home? I don’t mean to bother or anything. I guess I came by on a whim. It’s a little hard to explain… I can always come back later.”

At that point, Wonwoo was making his way beside you.

That voice—that delicate wispy voice, lighter than a tuft of cotton adrift through the breeze under a salt blue sky—there was such a familiarity about it that he was getting dizzier by the second. Your jaw was distinctly clenched as Wonwoo stopped at your side.

He took one look into the hallway and damn near fainted.

“What the fuck…” Wonwoo whispered, his mouth suddenly stark of moisture as he lifted a hand to grab the door’s edge, “Jeanie?”

“Uh, hey, Wonwoo.”

Wait—never mind, never mind—he panicked. Maybe he did want it to be Mingyu. In fact, Wonwoo would have anticipated Bohyuk showing up outside his door, or his parents, or his girlfriend of two weeks back in sixth grade who broke up with him over a juice box before he could guess that his ex who disappeared without a trace would be there.

It sounded borderline insane, but Wonwoo almost wanted to poke her just to test if she was even real. She looked real. She sounded real. You didn’t seem to be staring into empty space while side-eyeing him worriedly, rather you had very much acknowledged her. Wonwoo’s grip fastened to the door, then realizing he was using it as a personal crutch to keep him upright as his legs slowly regained their rigidity and strength. He also realized that you likely had no idea who she was until her name had been distantly tugged from his lips by his instincts.

Jeanie splayed out her hands in a demonstration of submission.

“If it’s a bad time, I can come back later…”

Wonwoo noted that you had taken a step away from the door, although you continued to stare at Jeanie with a countenance that refused to spoil much—it seemed inquisitive and curious but still hardened—the moment was probably overwhelming you, too.

He gulped dryly, flicking his eyes back to her. “Uh, well, I wasn’t even—you’re like, the last person I would expect to see and—”

“It’s okay. I’ll leave.”

Jerking back to you, Wonwoo nearly gave himself whiplash.

“Her—you don’t need to—”

But you shook your head.

Grabbing the cream purse off the couch and slipping back into your comfortable, clean white tennis shoes, you seemed eager to go while simultaneously jaded at the circumstances.

“No, don’t worry about it,” you stopped in front of Wonwoo, adjusting the strap wove around your shoulder, “this seems important, so… I don’t want to stand in the way of anything… I’ll see you later, ‘kay?”

Then, you turned to Jeanie, sticking out your hand. “Nice to meet you.”

She looked to Wonwoo for a split second.

“Um, yeah, you as well…” Jeanie eventually accepted the handshake, sounding breathy with nerves, “sorry about all this.”

While making your way to the staircase, Wonwoo quickly stepped into the corridor and waved at you, feeling his chest tighten.

“I’ll call you, okay?”

You flashed a transient smile. He hated watching you leave.

Jeanie was watching you, too, hands politely folded at her abdomen, bunny rabbit teeth digging at the skin of her ruby-stained and calloused lips. She had always been a chronic lip-biter—anxiety, thrill, or stress, Wonwoo vividly remembered the blisters she absentmindedly inflicted unto herself from the bad habit, similar to the scars marking the cuticle of his thumb. After a year Jeanie looked different no doubt, but she also reflected an unchanged image through her conserved, fidgety behaviours. She was shy like a budding flower kept just short of the sun.

“Are you okay if I come in?” Jeanie mumbled, hardly able to maintain eye contact with Wonwoo for no more than a second or two.

He stepped back, beckoning indoors.

“Yeah… that’s fine, I guess.”

“Looks pretty nice in here…” she remarked soft-spokenly, taking a moment to marvel the space she once came home to every day, although she couldn’t seem more like a stranger to the apartment even if she tried—like a magazine cutout slapped onto a novel.

Wonwoo rubbed under his nose. “Well… I make due.”

Her hair used to be a symmetric, blunt length with her chin, but she had clearly grown it out over the months. The black tresses thrived in long and loose ribbons down her back, shinier than sea glass polished by rough waves. She was never one to wear much makeup either—trimming her eyebrows, glossing her lips, and flicking on some mascara was all she really ever cared to do, and Wonwoo remembered being in love with her simplicity.

Jeanie proceeded to walk behind the couch, squeezing the back in her hands. She was so tiny. That hadn’t changed much. He could only stand in one place, keeping still, examining her every movement and fighting against the trillions of voices clawing to his mind’s surface.

“Feels strange to be in here,” she laughed, running her fingers along the couch’s fabric, staring around the space, “I think it definitely has more of your touch now… it was nice to see Saskia again, too.”

“Yeah.”

She stopped on him. “You look well. Healthy.”

Wonwoo squinted at her. “Why are you here?”

He didn’t say it in a rude, impatient way. Genuinely, Wonwoo wasn’t angry with her, not like he might have been a few months ago.

But he was confused and feeling increasingly anxious. You were gone, probably on your way back home, though Wonwoo wished you hadn’t left at all, even if it were to make things sticky and awkward. Your presence in a room was the comfort he badly, painfully missed.

“Sure,” Jeanie cleared her throat, “I’ll explain. Care to sit?”

Together, they nestled onto the couch.

Wonwoo was kept to one end while Jeanie sat more in the middle, pulling at the long, flowy hem of her fern-patterned blue dress.

He tugged at the rim to his beanie, waiting for her to speak.

The girl gripped onto her knees, poised a soft, gentle look in his direction while taking in a breath. Their nerves seemed to be coalescing like different colours bleeding from freshly soaked paintbrushes. If anxiety were personified into butterflies, the room would start fluttering.

“I guess I thought it was time. Taking a shot in the dark, I know. I didn’t know if you would still be here, but I got lucky…” she clutched at her dress, fingers pulling into the airy material. “Wonwoo, it’s not like I don’t think about you, or wonder about you. I know what I did, how much it hurt… then I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to come back to here, with you. But I processed it all and it became an itch I had to scratch.”

Puffing out through his nose, Wonwoo almost laughed.

“Yeah—you wanted to see if I, what? Threw myself off the building or persevered, becoming some big money writer?”

Jeanie blinked at him a few times, furrowing her neat, straight brow, with every hair gelled down perfectly in place.

Wonwoo shook his head, lifting out his hand.

“Okay, my bad. That sounded like such an asshole thing to say.”

“No, it’s okay. I get it.” Her cheeks flooded with a tide of rosy pink as she chuckled. “I-I just… well, you seem different now.”

He pushed up his glasses. “You think?”

“Yeah.”

“In a good or bad way?”

Jeanie clasped her hands together, thumbs tapping.

“Well, I guess you seem more... upfront, not as prevaricating. Maybe that’s how you’ve always been and I just never really saw it or you picked it up from someone else.”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Probably a bit of both.”

“I am sorry. I know it was all so… sudden. I know this is sudden. I thought about calling... my hands would just shake so much whenever I picked up the phone, getting all sweaty and stuff. It felt like something that I had to just do. And, well, once I was back in the area, I didn’t even want to lend myself time to dwell. I only came in yesterday.”

“You went back home, then?”

“I did.”

“I figured… well, I got the hint pretty clear when your mom sent me that email. It was only a sentence or two long, but it hurt like hell.”

“It’s what I asked her to send. It’s all I felt you needed to know.”

“Yeah, I get that.”

Jeanie sighed, “I feel warranted in what I did… even so, I-I think I owe you an apology. Because, well, you were and still are someone I regard highly. You were going through something pretty serious… I mean, it’s obvious you’re taking such better care of yourself.”

“It definitely hasn’t been linear.”

Tucking some hair behind her ear, the girl smiled. “Well, what in life really is? It only feels that way when you’re going straight down.”

He hmphed, thinking. “… Yeah. Really though, don’t worry about it. An apology isn’t necessary. You’ve always been too gracious.”

“I-I guess… but, I think it is, since—”

“Jeanie, c’mon. It’s really not. I was dragging you down.”

“Wonwoo, I feel like—”

“I’m telling you—”

“Well, I’m telling you and it would mean a lot if you just let me speak and get this off my chest. Please. Then you can have the floor. Tell me to package it all back up. Whatever it is you have to say. But I spent our entire relationship just listening and trying to understand you and interpret all your vague signals when I should have been trying to understand myself, and what I wanted. I’m not the verbose type, I know that. Going off on longwinded tangents about my feelings has never been something that suits me but I’m here now and I owe it to the girl who just sucked it all up, all the time, trying to be this perfect girlfriend for you.”

He managed a long, introspective breath.

Fuck—he really did owe her that. He owed her so much more.

“… Okay,” Wonwoo nodded complicity, “you’re right.”

“Leaving was the very last thing I wanted. I swear it. I agonized over the choice every day. But you didn’t even notice. That’s when I knew it was more than bad, and whatever it was you were going through was just pulling you down so deep, like a whirlpool. It’s like… I would talk to you, and there was no one inside. When I felt like you needed space, I gave you space. When I felt like you had something hard to say, I would sit with you all day, trying to ease it out, waiting for you to say it.

When you seemed so angry at yourself and everything around you—I-I don’t know—I tried to be the best thing for you. But I was hitting wall after wall. Sometimes I wonder how much of it was my fault. If I had just been upfront about my feelings then maybe things would have been… well, you know, different. I guess I never did say much because it seemed like the last thing you needed to hear, like I would be adding to your already massive collection of burdens. You have to understand, I felt trapped, Wonwoo. Like I was in a glass box or something.

I was decaying from the inside out. If I didn’t leave, if I didn’t make that split second decision to phone up my mom and tell her everything that morning you left for work—then maybe we would have gotten even worse. Maybe we would have just drowned. I don’t know. I’m… glad, relieved, happier than ever, that I don’t know what might have happened. And now that it seems we’re both… whole… I feel like an apology is just a way for me to say that if I had the steel to speak for the both of us, maybe we could have spared so much pain in between.”

Jeanie’s doe eyes twinkled with tears. “I thought that being apart might heal us both… I-I did it ‘cause—in essence—I did it because I cared, Wonwoo. About you. So deeply. But I also needed to start caring about myself, too.”

The corners of his mouth flitted in an unbridled smile toward the girl, his gaze admiring how the evening sunlight warmed up her cool-toned skin and shimmered through her strong, healthy hair.

“I know,” Wonwoo finally answered. “I’ve known for a while.”

Jeanie stayed for about an hour longer, until the sky started darkening. Together, they filled each other in on the breakages in each other’s distant lives, like a spider reweaving a gash through its cobweb. He was pleased to learn that she was doing quite well for herself—now moved out from her family house and living with her younger sister, Jeanie held true to pursuing her ambition of managing the library she had always adored coming to during her childhood (he remembered it specifically as “the one with the bean bag corner and the giant toy crate with the giraffe.”)

Wonwoo felt he didn’t have much to say regarding himself, however, he had plenty to say about you.

Rubbing at a strand of her hair, Jeanie nodded. “Yeah, I remember Her. She—like—she did scare me a bit… I don’t know—she really seemed to know what she was doing. I was a little envious of that. And she had really great style. She could pull anything off. She came in looking for a textbook one time, but I made my co-worker help her instead. I think I was too nervous to talk to her.”

Wonwoo had his legs stretched out onto the coffee table, hands settled on his stomach. Itching at his eyebrow, he smiled. “I probably would have done the same, back then. Honestly though, she’s nothing like what she seems. I can promise you that.”

Jeanie was quiet for a moment, adjusting the legs tucked up underneath herself. “So… you two are… you’re dating?”

“No… it’s weird. I wish.”

“I recognized her when she opened the door. I was pretty confused since… of all the people that you could have over… she seemed like the most unlikely candidate. I-I mean, I’m not saying that you could never—I’m not saying that it could never happen—”

He tilted his head at Jeanie, grinning slyly. “No, just say it. You didn’t imagine I’d ever even be able to talk to someone like her.”

The girl’s face flushed. “Well, you’re quite the opposites.”

“In some ways.”

“I don’t think she’d like me.”

Wonwoo pursed his lip in disagreement. “That’s not true. To be fair, you’ve ever only got to see one side of her. She’s trying to figure shit out just as much as we are. You never really stop, I suppose.”

He felt Jeanie’s gaze still on him for a few seconds, her mouth twitching into a delicate, sincere smile made brighter by her eyes. “So… you figure she’d like me? Even if she knew all the details about us? How rough it all was?”

Wonwoo crossed his arms, staring back toward her confidently. “I figure she’d probably like you more than me, actually.”

8:28 pm

“Hey, thanks for picking up.”

“Oh, no big deal. You called me at a good time. I was just about to start my skincare and I would have needed to sit for fifteen minutes doing absolutely nothing in a slimy face mask.”

“Sounds fun.”

“I’m guessing your conversation is over and done with.”

“Yeah. She only left like, five minutes ago.”

“And you didn’t want to sit alone in your bedroom contemplating the universe for an additional hour with all the blinds drawn? Woah. Wonwoo, I am impressed. Finger snaps.”

“Finger snaps.”

“So… am I allowed to know how the whole thing went or did you just call me to hear the sound of my voice?”

“Both. But mostly to hear your voice.”

“Okay. Enlighten me then.”

9:45 pm

“Anyway… yeah. The conversation went well. I still can’t believe she actually came back to see me. Like, what a mindfuck, you know?”

“That took a lot of courage from her part.”

“Yeah, it did. Makes me proud, though. To hear her actually speak her mind. She really was just trying to be the best possible person for me and the only thing that got her is heartbreak. She’s putting herself first, now. She’s spending a couple days in the city with her sister.”

“… Do you think that you’ll want to see her again?”

“I don’t know. Do I need to?”

“Do you?”

“No. I mean, don’t get me wrong, as much as it was a shock to see her again, there was great closure in it. If she had come to see me way sooner, no way would I have been open to it—I probably would have freaked the fuck out and had an anxiety attack or some shit—but I feel way better about everything now. I felt like I understood her choices, kinda like I was the one making them... but, you know, we’re evolved people at this point. We’ve veered onto two separate paths, neither one being greater than or less than the other… just different.”

“Right.”

“We just wished each other well.”

“No, that��s great. You put a bow on it. I just didn’t really know what the whole thing was gonna entail… so, yeah, I had gotten kinda worried… like—once I knew it was her—I thought she looked so perfect for you. You two just made immediate sense in my mind. She’s got such a sweet voice, and the kind, shy personality that everyone always adores. I think if you stuck her in a room with me, she’d hate my guts.”

“Ha—Jeanie hates no one’s guts. She’s got no room in her heart for that kind of stuff. You two are different for sure, but I think that’s what would make you interesting and attractive to each other.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. If it makes you feel any better, she didn’t think you’d like her either. But I told her you’d probably like her more than me.”

“What! She actually thought that? I mean, maybe I seemed a little damp when I left, but that was just my mind on overdrive.”

“Need me to arrange a date between you two?”

“Ha—she did have a great perfume on. Maybe ask about that.”

“Well, I will if I see her.”

“She doesn’t know about the book you were writing for her, does she? I can’t believe that’s been sitting on your laptop all this time.”

“No, she doesn’t. I used to sit there and stare at it every day, but I don’t think I’ve even opened the damn document in months… since I met you, my mind has gradually moved away from it, I guess. I think now it’s more of an effort thing. All the time I put into it. It’s like, if I delete it, I’m deleting that time from my life… does that even make sense?”

“Yeah, I know what you’re saying.”

“… Did you ever finish your book for Mingyu? I know you wanted it done before your anniversary in December. It seemed like you were on track to have it done quite early, with all that time you gave yourself.”

“I did finish it, actually.”

“No fucking way—that’s a big accomplishment.”

“Yeah. Now I’ve just gotta decide what to do with it.”

—NOVEMBER 3RD.

Wonwoo was fairly surprised that Princess had invited him to her birthday dinner at Terra Cotta. At one point, he wasn’t certain where he stood with your closest friend, even if his relationship with her presented itself as amicable on the surface—he always thought that maybe deep down, Princess really did despise him. Then Wonwoo wondered if you had nipped at the birthday girl into inviting him, although that didn’t seem like something in your character.

Through all his fretting, thumb-scraping, and late-night pondering in the shower, Wonwoo eventually came to the conclusion that was probably the simplest and most accurate: Princess just liked him.

A call from Vernon came through right as Wonwoo was getting into bed last week, to which the rambling boy had impetuously thrown out, “yeah, I got an invite to Her’s best friend’s birthday dinner or somethin’ like that—what was her name again? Penelope? The sexy dark skin girl with the braids? Anyway, I told her I’d love to go, but I’m gonna be out of town for a few days in November. Said I could hook her up with a couple MDMA bombs, though. Y’know, as a gift.”

Thus, that concluded the story of Wonwoo having to sit at a rather large and reserved candlelit table in an expensive, esteemed restaurant, surrounded by some friends and strangers alike, with a plastic baggie of hard drugs shoved into his pants pocket that he couldn’t stop worrying about. Vernon had wanted him to leave it with Princess when appropriate. Most people invited were going to the club later in the night—Room 319—which he figured could only be survived by going buckwild off ecstasy. As his knee continued to ricochet underneath the tablecloth, Wonwoo was soothed by your hand sliding over his thigh.

You gave him a solicitous glance, smiling with care. “Why don’t I just put it in my purse?” The offer was whispered amongst the conversation.

Wonwoo couldn’t help but flit his eyes around the table, ensuring no one was giving his general direction a lick of attention. The waiters and waitresses would pop from the blue every now and then with bottles that seemed glued to their hands, scouring for anyone who needed a top up on alcohol. His glass had been seldom touched for the past half-hour.

He sighed, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine.”

“Wonwoo,” you deadpanned at him.

“It’s fine.”

“Oh my God—just give me it. It’ll take me two seconds to dig it out from your pocket and shove it in my damn purse. Besides, I can’t enjoy myself when the anxiety is emanating off you in waves.”

His knee immediately stopped jerking. Wonwoo looked you straight in the eyes, the stiffness turning him into straw. “Is it really?”

“Yes!” You laughed quietly, your head hunkering down on his shoulder for a brief moment. “Now, give me it please. Pretty please.”

Sliding a hand into the smooth pocket on his pants, Wonwoo began fishing out the small plastic baggie while puffing, “fuck—alright.”

“Gosh,” he heard you mumble while discreetly taking the capsules from him, rustling them into your purse, “you could never be a drug dealer, could you? How are you even friends with Vernon? That dude probably walks around with sample sizes taped to his jacket.”

“It’s different.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah,” Wonwoo was finally able to roll out his shoulders and relax—even give you a humorous little smirk, “I have a way better chance of escaping the drug dogs than he does. I’ll get a nice head start.”

His thigh was met with a slap before your hand pulled away. “I’m acting like I don’t know either of you.”

To be fair, Wonwoo couldn’t picture his bad-mouthed, fairly uncouth friend in a snotty establishment like Terra Cotta, especially considering his ideal places to eat were twenty-four-hour diners and cereal pantries belonging to girls whom he’d just slept with. The restaurant was no doubt beautiful, though it was definitely for the upper echelons who could not only afford it, but also act the pleasant, opulent guise.

At least the table that Princess reserved was a bit more separated from the other tables in the restaurant—it was close to a waterfall built into the wall, encompassed by all sorts of burnish-looking smooth stones.

Neither Seokmin or Mingyu were at the dinner—two absences that no one seemed to be questioning. To Wonwoo, that was a gigantic relief—he assumed you felt the same. Clara was there, seated further down the table, but Bells wasn’t. Seungcheol was an obvious guest, and besides you, he was the person that Wonwoo had spoken to the most since arriving at the restaurant—he’d even given Wonwoo the slip on his secret gift for his girlfriend, which was a two-week vacation to the Bahamas after the winter exam season.

Wonwoo was a little jealous.

He would love for you and him to vacation somewhere.

Maybe even take you back to South Korea.

“So, you guys,” Princess had started a conversation with you and Wonwoo from across the table, hands folded underneath her chin while she smiled kindly between you, “think you’ll come to the club after?”

You pouted at her, “we’re passing, babe. A million sorries.”

“Awe, that’s okay.” She reached across the pristine tablecloth to lay her hand over top yours. “You already took me out for my birthday, anyway. And let me vomit in your washroom for two hours.”

“Mmhm. You’d do the same for me.”

Princess giggled, her grin luminous and wholly genuine. “Oh, of course. I have already done it!”

“Well, you’ll have to tell me all about Room 319. The stories I’ve heard about that place—sounds like some shit from a movie.”

“Trust me, you’ll get the entire script in a bound book. I know the club thing isn’t for everyone—that’s why I did the dinner. And I’m doing cupcakes instead of cake! Remember those red velvet cupcakes we had that one night? And then that other night? Fuck—I couldn’t stop thinking about those damn things.”

“Oh, those were fucking delicious.”

“De-licious. Have you ever got to try one, Wonwoo?”

He swallowed, a bit jarred to be welcomed into their conversation that he had been happily listening to from the sidelines.

“I tried one. I liked it.”

Princess gasped at him. “Only liked? Be serious!”

“Well, ask me again later tonight. I wasn’t having it fresh.”

“I will be asking. How’s Vernon? I’m sad he couldn’t make it.”

“Oh, he’s fine. Sometimes he just mysteriously disappears from town for a couple days—I don’t ask because I don’t want to know. But, uh, he did leave me with a gift for you… if you didn’t already know.”

“Oh… oh! Right!” Princess straightened up, nodding. “Yeah, I remember. You can give it to me when we leave. Outside.”

“I have it actually,” you clarified, flickering a transient look at the tiny purse you had moved onto the table, “when we take a girl’s trip to the washroom, you can have it. The dose is pretty high. I know I don’t have to worry about you and this stuff, but be careful, y’know?”

“Of course. Just make sure you hide the purse in your lap when the waiter comes back. They love offering to take bags and satchels and all that stuff to hang in the coat room.” After clearing her throat with a sip from her pink, frothy champagne, Princess curiously poked at you two. “So, how do you guys plan to spend the rest of your night?”

Wonwoo opted not to speak.

You grabbed your wine glass, swirling the aromatic alcohol around inside while shrugging. “Not sure. It’s chilly out. Hope you don’t freeze your tits off standing outside in the mile long line for the club.”

“That’s what this push-up is for. The padding’s so toasty warm.”

Laughing with Princess, you ended up snorting.

Seungcheol, who was sat beside his girlfriend and had been occupied in speaking to a friend Wonwoo forgot the name of, finally parted from his conversation, turning his head at the last second to hear the giggling.

“Push-up? What are you guys talking about?”

You shook your head. “Nothing—just her bra.”

“Oh,” Seungcheol mumbled, “what about her bra?”

Princess smiled. “Just that with all this padding it’s got, it’ll keep me nice and warm when I’m waiting outside. Perfectly insulated.”

Rubbing a thumb and index finger along his jaw, Seungcheol grinned all relaxed-like while Princess rolled her dark brown eyes at his comment, the gold accents in her inner corners glimmering.

“I bet my hands would be a lot more efficient. Nothing warmer than skin on skin as they say.”

She shoved his shoulder half-heartedly. “Who says that? Now, bedroom eyes away before I make you wear a bag over your head.”

“I don’t see a bag here.”

“As the birthday girl, I’m pretty sure I can request one.”

The dinner officially wrapped up around ten at night. Wonwoo was able to reaffirm with Princess that the red velvet cupcakes were indeed moist and delicious. As everyone stood right outside the restaurant in the nippy, cold November weather, giving hugs and farewells to those who weren’t clubbing, he made sure to wish Princess probably the twentieth happy birthday she’d heard that night. He waited for you to give her another speech about staying safe but still having fun, sprinkled with lots of “I love you’s” and inside jokes that Wonwoo wondered if he would ever understand, before you two left on your own.

Each time he spoke, his breath would come to life in a warm wisp from his mouth, meanwhile the streets lights reflected in the melted snow all over the sidewalk he aimlessly wandered down, with you sticking close to his side. It hadn’t been a heavy snow, at least.

“Be honest,” you said, glancing toward Wonwoo, “how relieved are you that we’re not going to the club? On a scale of one to ten.”

“Is ten the most relieved?”

“Yeah.”

He looked at you, completely unabashed. “Ten.”

Kissing your teeth, you nodded. “That’s what I expected.”

“So,” Wonwoo hummed, stopping beside you at the intersection while waiting for the crosswalk light to change, “what now?”

Your eyebrows raised. “Still want to do something?”

As the cars whipped past, throwing up brisk winds and exhaust into the twinkling city atmosphere, Wonwoo shrugged. “The night is young.”

“What's on your mind?”

“We’re not far from Centertown. It’s maybe a fifteen-minute walk or so at this point. There’s a bar there I want to try. The Honeymoon.”

He was glad you didn’t seem opposed.

“Sure. I’m down.”

Once the crosswalk was open and the floods of people started pressing forward, there was somebody who passed them—somebody who almost went completely unnoticed by Wonwoo until his memory reloaded and he suddenly found himself pausing to observe over his shoulder.

You pulled at his sleeve. “What?”

“Uh, nothing,” Wonwoo replied, wetting his dry lips while heeding your polite tug, “the woman that passed us—she’s dressed exactly like this prostitute that Vernon told me he saw last winter, hanging outside Room 319. She has the heels and everything.”

“What the fuck. Really?”

“Mmhm,” he laughed, “he called her Pink Heels Lady. To be honest, I thought he was lying… but I’m pretty sure that was her.”

“Spooky. Coincidence or fate, do you think?”

Wonwoo glanced at you, seeing the intrigued smile on your face.

“I don’t know, actually,” he responded after the question hovered around in his mind for an oddly long second, deciding to pick up your hand in is, “I assume it’s just the universe working its magic.”

Wonwoo was never particularly into bars, although he could tolerate them much more than a club despite their parallels. The seedy lighting, deafening music, and signature throw-up gutter in the street or alleyway right outside the building was crucial to both, he had realized.

The Honeymoon was a newer bar that had garnered some notable buzz. It was less like a pub, being slightly more formal with a touch of modernity that had landed it just below presumptuous, in Wonwoo’s opinion. At least the music wasn’t overbearing, nor was there intoxicated, flush-faced men hollering at sports teams on televisions that would never hear them. You decided to sit at the counter, sliding onto the heightened chairs and leaving your jackets draped over the low backs.

You bristled, shaking out your shoulders. “I’m cold.”

Wonwoo cupped his hands overtop your icy cheeks for a moment, allowing some of his warmth to seep into your skin.

“A drink will fix that right up.”

“How are your hands hotter than mine? You’re always freezing.”

He smiled at you, letting you have your face back. “I can warm them up at will to your benefit.” Wonwoo joked, bumping his knee against yours. “What do you think of the place?”

Your lip pursed as you glanced around, examining the bartenders filling up glasses with their silvery, shiny spouts, and then over your shoulder at the numerous other tables occupied by the city’s strangers. For a frigid November night, it was quite full.

“It’s nice. The lighting is pretty. Reminds me of Alley Cat.”

“Oh, yeah. Vernon took me there once to celebrate my exams being done, then he got into a fist fight with this university student over something I can’t remember—smashed a glass on the dude’s head.”

Predictably, your eyes rolled. “Only Vernon is getting into fist fights at Alley Cat.”

Wonwoo chuckled. “Well, now he can’t get into fist fights there at all—management banned him and the other guy. Apparently, they’ve got this back wall of people who’ve been kicked out and he’s on there.”

“Figures,” you sighed.

“Oh my gosh! Wonwoo? It’s you!”

At the sound of his name being excitedly called, Wonwoo was soon met with the surprised but cheerful expression coloured to Sierra’s freckled face. He hadn’t forgotten that she worked there, but he was clueless about her schedule. She looked very pretty, glowing in a halo almost, with her coarse, reddish-brown hair pulled back slick into a ponytail and a crisp, clean black uniform tailored to fit her perfectly.

Wonwoo grinned. “Hey there. I didn’t know you worked tonight.”

Sierra set one hand onto the lacquered wood counter while the other stuck to her hip. “I don’t usually. Fridays are game nights with my little sister. But there was a call-in. A little extra cash never hurt.” The girl’s big, round eyes then flitted to you. “Her, right? I don’t think we’ve ever met formally. I know you’re one smart cookie, though.”

“I’d like to think so,” you answered, smiling back at Sierra, “you were at the party, weren’t you? The one Seungcheol threw this summer?”

She nodded, “I was. I made a few drinks here and there.”

“I never got to taste one,” you frowned, pouting.

Throwing up her hands, Sierra was quick to exclaim with her typical charisma and sugar sweetness, “what! Preposterous! I think I’m pretty wicked at it. What are you thinking of having?”

“To be honest, I’m not looking for anything too fancy at the moment. In fifteen minutes from now, I won’t be able to promise the same. I’d like to start off with a rum and coke, if that’s alright. For now.”

Sierra grinned. “No, that’s perfect. What about you, Wonwoo?”

He shrugged. “I’ll have the same. For now.”

“Well, for now, I’ll start you guys off with two rum and cokes.”

Leaning his elbows onto the countertop, he threw her a question.

“How’s it going with Carmen?”

While she prepared the drinks, Sierra blossomed into a smile. “Oh, it’s going great. She’s genuinely a blast. We’re going to the movies next week—that horror one is coming out, about the swimming pool—we think it’s gonna suck but that’s what makes it fun.”

Once Sierra slid you the cold glass, you tilted your head at her while fixing your lips around the black straw. “Who’s Carmen?”

“My girlfriend.” Sierra answered. “We met here, actually.”

“Ugh, no way,” you swooned, pressing a cheek into your hand as the next drink was given to Wonwoo, “that’s so fucking adorable. Does she ever tell you how beautiful you look in that all-black uniform?”

Giggling, Sierra wiped down the countertop and flushed. “I’ve heard it many times. It’s honestly just a t-shirt and slacks!”

“Well, you’re making it work.”

“Please—my face is heating up! You’ve got quite the gorgeous dress on yourself, you know. I always wonder where you get all your clothes. Wonwoo, have you complimented her yet, tonight?”

Mixing the ice cubes together to hear the satisfying clinks using his straw, he answered easily. “It was the first thing out of my mouth.”

Sierra nodded in satisfaction. “Good! Well, I won’t hover. But if you need any refills or have any questions, you can try to flag me down—or ask Jamie! She’s just down there. She’s great at martinis. Later!”

Once Sierra had left to busy herself with tending to others waiting service at the counter, you looked to Wonwoo, lips downturned.

“Jeez, she’s so freaking nice. How come I don’t have that kind of natural charm? Not that I’m not charming. But hers is so… magnetic.”

“Everyone’s got their natural quirks.”

“Yeah, well, my natural quirk is that I’m probably going to down this in the next two minutes. And then have three more after that.”

Wonwoo rubbed a hand to your shoulder, smirking into the glass that he raised to his mouth. “Just focus on the one you have now.”

3 more rum and cokes (+ 1 martini) later.

“No, no—but then, it gets even worse! Because not only had she been lying straight to his face the entire time, so was his best friend! They were seeing each other for weeks and weeks—he had no idea. What gave it away though, was the perfume. He was always telling her not to wear heavy perfumes and stuff because it will leave a scent on the sheets, but she messed up—so they freaked it, she spends the night, and then the next day when he’s over, he goes into his friend’s room looking for a charger and smells the perfume on the sheets! He puts it together! And then, and then—”

You paused, picking up the wide-mouthed martini glass to take a sip in the midst of your long-winded and passionate adultery story that Wonwoo had been struggling to follow for the past blurred time interval, the names now completely lost on his ears. There was hardly anything left in your glass, which led to your frustrated grumble, followed by an attempt to flag down the bartender, Jamie.

However, Wonwoo swiftly caught your hand despite his own impaired state, lowering it back to the countertop.

“Okay, I think that’s enough.” He pushed forward the cup of water he requested for you. “The least you can be right now is hydrated.”

Although you weren’t happy about his thwarting, you did yield to the advice and drink some of the water. Wonwoo knew he should probably have some himself after his own splurge on the bar’s pricy concoctions, but he still felt that he was holding up quite well. Before Jamie could whisk by again, he made sure to ask for another cup.

“So, what happened next?” Wonwoo nudged your elbow while you stared off cluelessly, urging you to continue the story.

“What?”

“He smells her perfume on the bedsheets. Now what?”

However, you were suddenly slumping forward, forehead nestled into your hands. For a moment, you stayed like that without word, until Wonwoo couldn’t help his concern and touched at your bare shoulder.

“Not feeling well?”

You shook your head, whining out, “no, no. It’s not that.”

He frowned, scooting to the edge of his chair and securing his arm across your shoulders. His voice was softer and closer against your warm cheek as he attempted to gauge that sour, twisted expression past your concealing hands, wanting to understand your hiding.

“Well, am I allowed to know what’s bothering you?”

Again, you remained silent, biting your lip. There was such tenseness in your body that he could simply feel with just his arm.

Wonwoo leaned back, instead tugging at your wrist. “Can I at least see your face? Please?” You didn’t budge. “Her, you’re worrying me a bit, here. Do you need me take you home—”

“Okay, I have something to tell you.” Breaking abruptly from your husk, you were now staring straight and square at Wonwoo with distinct inebriation cloudy in your eyes, although there was something else too that compelled Wonwoo to bite his tongue and listen. “Honestly, I think I’ve held onto this long enough. And, I’ve wanted to confess this to you for a while now, but there was just so much debris in my life that I needed to sort through first. But you’re beyond important to me, and I just think that it’s time you finally know… so, can I tell you?”

“Um…”

Wonwoo’s throat was suddenly bone-dry and his pulse had spiked to the point where he could feel a vein along his neck start throbbing—he even pondered waving down the bartender for another drink to pacify his growing nerves.

Ultimately, Wonwoo wouldn’t last that long. Pushing up his glasses, he nodded, noting that you hadn’t blinked once while you waited.

“Sure. Tell me.”

Your upper lip twitched.

“Mingyu’s been cheating on me, for two years.”

Wonwoo was quick to feel all his awareness become dull and drowned. He hardly registered his elbow shifting across the countertop, almost knocking over the glass of water onto the floor, nor did he realize the manner in which his mouth had subtly dropped open. You continued to stare at him with intensity, likely studying every tweak and fidget in his body language before swallowing deeply and choosing to continue the revelation.

He tightened up his jaw, trying to seem firm.

You looked ashamed of yourself as you admitted, “it’s been going on for two years, and I’ve known for about a year.”

“Really?” He answered, sounding mystified. “An entire year?”

“Give or take.”

Then, Wonwoo was shaking his head. His fist had clenched up tight, though it wasn’t the usual automated response that accompanied his anxiety—he found there was immediate distaste and anger swirling together like storm clouds in the pit of his stomach.

Your gaze was cast to the water glass on the countertop, which you moved away for no apparent reason, your expression emptied.

After a frail sigh, you continued, “do you remember that day I came into creative writing and got super upset at that guy for sitting in my seat? Remember how we talked about it at the nature museum, and I told you that I had a fight with Mingyu before going to class?”

“Yeah…”

“Well, that day, I tried bringing it up to him. And it totally didn’t go over how I thought it would. Mingyu denied it all… of course, I only had some vague but suspicious texts to go off of, which he explained his way out of pretty poorly. But I just accepted it for the sake of our relationship. And I never brought it up again until… you know.”

Wonwoo let a natural, stagnant silence fall in between you, meanwhile the encompassing atmosphere was kept flowing by the various conversations of those around you—seemingly happy—with plenty to drink as they kept warm from the bitter cold just outside.

He was biting his tongue, though he couldn’t hold the question any longer, piquing his, “do you know who he was cheating with?”

A huff shot straight through your nose.

“I know…” you mumbled, “and you know her, too.”

Suddenly, a name popped to his mouth without thought.

“Bells.”

When you didn’t confirm nor deny, opting to stare off to the side to conceal the emotion springing forth, Wonwoo knew it was solid truth.

“Fuck…” he cursed, grazing his hand across the smooth leg that was folded over your knee, “I’m so sorry… I’m at a loss for words.”

You could only sigh while a glossy film developed in your eyes.

“I mean, I’ve been through all the stages already—grief, denial, acceptance—whatever the other ones are—so I don’t know why I’m still getting so choked up about it. I obviously didn’t want to believe it… I mean, who the fuck does? Especially when you truly do have feelings for that person.” Shaking your head and sniffling, you exasperatedly flicked out a hand. “Her and her stupid sparkles. That was when I really started putting it together. Oh, I’m going out to play poker, babe! And the next day, I’m wearing his sweater, and I realize there’s these fucking little bits of glitter on it, inside it—it was like a fucking beacon that was just screaming at me—hey! Your asshole boyfriend is cheating!”

That was something Wonwoo had noticed himself, after Bells had bumped into him at the party—the girl’s adoration for sparkly clothing and makeup essentially left behind a glaring trail of glimmery breadcrumbs. Wonwoo had found them on his clothes once he took them off and could really see the fabric underneath the light. The confession suddenly painted your actions that night in a new colour.

Rubbing against your temple, you explained further despite the struggle to speak over that clogged sound coming from your throat.

“It’s not like I’m stupid, either, even if right now, in this situation, I seem like it. I know what Bells is like… she’s spoiled rotten—always has been—and is used to getting whatever the fuck she wants. But, you see, that’s the thing! That’s the fucking thing! Seokmin, Clara, Bells, even Princess—I only met them because of the webs my parents have in their business world. I was never really allowed to find my own friends. It really just shows how much they had a say in my life… don’t misconstrue, I truly do love Princess and she’s by far the most normal, grounded person amongst them. She actually listens, and cares. But I was only allowed to befriend her ‘cause my parents know her parents.

Mingyu seemed like the one person I was actually able to connect with on my own… but he’s honestly changed so much. It’s like, my parents were able to get their little fangs in him and warp him. And now… I really don’t think he loves me at all… I think he loves my image, and what I represent, and the opportunities that come with me… but, I don’t think he actually, genuinely loves me like he used to... like, back then, he was so, so sweet. He was always fumbling over himself, nervous, trying his best. I mean, you've read about it! He used to want to be an architect, Wonwoo. A freaking architect! He sketched all the time. He has a closet drawer full of sketch books from when he was younger. But everything's different now. He doesn't care. He hates when I bring it up! He hates me!

And I don’t just think—I know it, Wonwoo. He resents me, but he won’t let go. Instead, he just sucks the life out of me, like he’s trying to get me to hate myself, too. And I do. I guess, as long as I hate myself, it makes me perfect in their eyes. I’ll just keep letting them mould me until I feel complete.”

Wonwoo didn’t know what to do.

Hell, he didn’t even know what to say except for the fact that you were right—as long as you always felt subpar, or lacking, or frustrated with your drought of true identity, it would lead you back to the reliance you had on the deceptive characters in your life—it was nothing but a miserable cycle designed to bog you down and snuff you out. At least your tearful eyes had dried up.

You looked at him fondly, with a gentle smile. “That’s what I like so much about you… even if you didn’t intend to—which I know you didn’t, judging from what I’ve heard about you trying to avoid writing with me—” (he bit his inner cheek coyly, casting a somewhat anxious hand through his hair), “—you helped me realize parts of myself that were always there, but only needed some nurturing. You actually encouraged me. Supported me. And—okay—I know I said that I hate myself—but since I’ve met you, I’ve been replacing it with an understanding of my situation. I’ve been kinder. I’ve been more of myself. I like to think what we have is a sort of symbiosis.”

Wonwoo nodded. “I think you’re right.”

“Do you think that I’m… stupid… for staying?”

Immediately, Wonwoo’s face furled in disagreement. “No, no. Absolutely not. Mingyu’s been with you for so long. He has an integral quality in your life. It would be difficult to uproot yourself just like that. No one’s a better judge of that situation than you.”

“You think?”

“I know.”

As you relaxed back into the bar chair, Wonwoo could practically see this heavy, dark mist levitate from you and dissipate into the air. He knew that feeling of relief and inner freedom very well, and there was almost nothing that could compare to it.

Wonwoo then sipped from his glass of water, continuing to watch the stiffness melt off you like ebbing spring snow. "So, what was his response like? To your accusations? Was he at least honest?"

"Yeah, I got it all out of him eventually," you revealed with a very cumbersome sigh. "But he was deflecting like crazy... I'd never seen him like that before... he was fumbling his words all over, like he used to when we were first dating. But it was different. It wasn't nerves, it was just blind anger. He said I was no better. I mean, he's convinced we've had sex, and he wouldn't accept my denial, no matter what."

"It's not black and white," Wonwoo said, squeezing your arm, "it seems to me like a natural consequence. You felt trapped and alone."

For a split second, Jeanie flashed in his mind. A sear of guilt snapped through him. Mingyu would have much reflecting to do.

Nodding your head, you looked to Wonwoo and graced him with the words he may or may not have been waiting months to hear: "it's all over now—Mingyu and I—I made that extremely clear. And I honestly don't care what anyone else has to say. My mom didn't want to believe it... she's been acting strange since. I don't blame her."

In response, he merely nodded, warming you up with his gentle eyes.

But then he was shifting forward in his seat, elbows settled to the counter. Although it was quite late and he felt exhausted from drinking, his curiosity about a particular matter was still sharp.

“So… I’m wondering… what's your reason for writing the book?”

You gulped. “I wanted a way of looking back on everything. Seeing if maybe I could find myself somewhere amongst all those memories. Maybe when I started losing Mingyu was when I started losing myself. Maybe that's when I realized I was losing myself. Maybe that's when I realized I never really knew myself to begin with.”

He shrugged, his face colouring with admiration for you.

“Well... have you found something?”

Your only means of response was a twinkle-eyed grin.

The walk back to your apartment wasn’t as dreadful as Wonwoo anticipated, mostly attributed to the alcohol soaking up in your stomachs, keeping your blood warm even in the face of a tough, harsh wind. Back when it wasn’t so late in the night and his lips had yet to touch his first rum and coke, Wonwoo thought he would take himself home after seeing you off first. But now it was almost midnight, and he had this impending feeling of vertigo while he walked, and he was therefore very limp to fight the offer that involved a comfortable stay at your place until morning.

Wonwoo wasn’t exactly sure where he deposited his coat or his shoes, or even his phone—instead he found himself sitting at the end of your bed, listening to the muffled sound of a running sink behind a closed door as you were busy in the washroom.

He leaned over, removing the glasses already slid down his nose and rubbing a palm into his eye until stars traversed the length of his vision. So, Lady Liberty was a cheater. For the past two years. It did bring Wonwoo to wonder what else Mingyu had said during your argument. Did he ever give a reason for cheating? Did he feel boxed into a life that wasn't the enriching utopia he surmised it might be, but he was toughing it out for the sake of success? Was he cheating because he was mad at you or mad at himself?

Or was he honestly just an asshole?

The Mingyu he was familiar with was shifty, and hardened, and image-obsessed, and now Wonwoo knew for a fact he wasn’t delusional for feeling the tension between you and him whenever you were together. God—he could practically cut all the thickness in the air using Seokmin’s nose and serve it like pieces of cake. But Mingyu hadn't always been like that according to your allegories. Deep down there could still be traces of the man you fell in love with, flickering like shiny little minnows beneath murky, clouded water.

But it was too late now.

Fitting his glasses back on, Wonwoo rolled back the sleeves to his crisp white dress shirt, proceeding to take a gander around your bedroom that he hadn’t revisited in quite some time.

The running sink in the washroom across the hall was finally turned off, although Wonwoo had stopped paying attention to the background noise in place of reading your every detail off the walls. In minuscule ways, the room had changed. There were missing photographs from the dresser, your makeup vanity drawers no longer left ajar in your likely last-minuting rushing to ensure everything was perfect. The closet seemed cleaned-out. Emptier than it once was.

“I thought you might fall asleep.”

He jumped slightly, realizing that you were in the bedroom now, setting down your heels in the corner before making a stride toward the closet where the dress over your arm was hung back up.

Wonwoo bit his lip. “I questioned it.”

You smiled, and within that moment he noticed the long t-shirt you were draped in was the dark blue, logoed math shirt, the one you’d picked after sprinting back to his apartment amidst a rain storm. He felt something in his chest swell and ache in response to how pretty you looked wearing it. Wonwoo knew he was staring, blushing, but he didn’t care. You had two of his t-shirts now. He hoped that collection might continue growing. He hoped that you wore them until his scent was naturally replaced by the strawberry sweetness of your own.

“Thinking about anything in particular?” You asked, arms folded.

Slapping a guilty little grin on his face, Wonwoo shrugged. “No.”

But then you started striding toward Wonwoo, uttering out something half-whispered that sounded a lot like “liar”, and now he truly wasn’t thinking about a damn thing, not even his own breath, as you proceeded to slide your arms around his neck and seat yourself in his lap. He was frozen. You hadn’t been this fucking close to him since you two had cuddled during Seungcheol’s party.

But this was worse—this was full-throttle intimacy with your penetrative, fluttering eyes eating up his soul while your bare thighs squeezed the sense out of him, trapping him, testing him.

“Scared?” You whispered, moving your face in closer.

Yes—he was horrified—he couldn’t even speak with you smiling at him so innocently despite the flames you were igniting.

Though, when he felt a wriggle from your hips that seemed to push against him in all the right places, Wonwoo’s hands were immediate on your waist, tight and stilling, and he swore there was a vulnerable, pliant spark in your eyes that he had never seen before. Maybe Wonwoo could have been more polite about the approach, but after waiting so, so long, he felt like a rocket ship rife with fuel.

He kissed you.

In one decision his lips were pressed to yours, and in a kiss that was full of friction and earnest want, he could only dig deeper. Your arms curled further around his neck, to which you slipped in a quick, sharp breath before pouring yourself back into him so suddenly, mouths moulding again and again, spit slickening, noses bumping. He would have paused to take off his glasses, though Wonwoo was in no place to leave your lips for even a second—especially when your playful tongue glided with his and the world around him melted like wax.

Maybe he was biased (or maybe it was love), but Wonwoo swore it had never felt this right to kiss someone. He knew it, somewhere outside himself, far out in the ever-expanding universe and every other version that belonged, that this moment felt destined to happened. Wonwoo had never particularly believed in fate.

But then he wouldn’t know how else to describe you.

His hands itching to touch more of your skin had gravitated to the thighs clenching at his hips. Your warmth and smoothness only made him greedier. As the kissing became messy in the desperation, he couldn’t help but slide his hands to your ass, immediately kneading his cold fingers into the flesh, pulling, squeezing, pushing you closer into him because he quite literally wanted you to engulf his body.

Then, you were gripping at the back of his hair. You had opened up his throat for your wet lips to continue exploring, and Wonwoo felt every suckle and teething bite draw him further from clarity.

Each kiss slithered lower, until you were gradually lifting from his lap and placing yourself onto the carpet floor. Wonwoo had leaned back to tightly fist the bedsheets behind him, although he would never waver his lusted eyes from the sight of you between his spread legs, on your knees, palming him overtop his dress pants while biting your swollen, glistening lip. He almost wanted the camcorder to capture it.

“How does it feel?” You hummed, staying focused on each pressured movement your hand applied to his prominent erection.

Wonwoo chuckled, clearing the huskiness in his throat, “like I’m gonna die.” His head tilted back. “Holy shit.”

Flashing nothing but a conniving, pleased smile, you tended to undoing his belt buckle. Wonwoo was burning up. As you pulled down the zipper to his pants and helped him shift down the waistband to his underwear an adequate distance, he couldn’t process anything but the fact that he might burst like an explosion of confetti the second your hand would touch him.

Except, you opted to sit back on your haunches.

Tilting your head, you smirked at him.

“I would like a demonstration, please.”

He almost choked. “A what?”

“A demonstration,” you repeated, shuffling closer in between his thighs and gazing up much too seraphically through your lashes, “won’t you show me how you touch yourself, Wonwoo? Please?”

For the life of him, he couldn’t produce one stupid fragment of a sentence, or even a word. God—it didn’t fucking help that you took reign and offered to get him started—your hand carefully reaching past his underwear, gripping onto him gently to spring his erection free. A shiver surged throughout his body at the sensation. Hotness spread like molten lava across his face as the result of your lascivious, teasing actions stood leaking and stiffer than wood right before your eyes, which were agleam with thrill and haze.

You seemed as though you were going to pounce on him.

But he could visibly see you swallow the temptation.

“Aww, you have the prettiest dick I’ve ever seen,” you giggled, wrapping a hand around him that was soft and warm, “would it make you feel better if I started you off, then? Gave you some help?”

Wonwoo’s fists were tangled so intensely into the bedsheets he was surprised the fabric hadn’t disintegrated. Holding his breath, he watched you lean forward until your mouth was hovering an agonizing distance over him, only to produce a line of spit that dripped onto his head. His jaw unhinged in a groan. Then you began working the saliva along his shaft, pumping a hand up and down, occasionally flickering your thumb over the sensitive tip only to remove the contact so casually, likely knowing it would rip him apart.

“Your turn.”

He took a second to push up his glasses and shake his head.

“M’not gonna last long, you know,” Wonwoo grunted, at last heeding your request and beginning to stroke himself for your viewing pleasure, “especially after that big display. You fucking tease.”

With an arm slid over his thigh and the drool collecting in your mouth, you couldn’t have looked anymore dazzled by the thirst you were experiencing, your eyes refusing to part from every tug delivered by his own hand. It was a spell, and you were unapologetically under it.

“Mmm, a tease?” You purred, smiling. “I was just trying to help.”

“Were you?” Wonwoo scoffed, pumping faster while continuing to twist up the bedsheets using his other hand. “Rubbing your fucking spit into my cock is tt-trying to help me? Is that what you think?”

“Mmhm,” you answered, straightening up as Wonwoo felt himself become tenser, felt the pressure in his abdomen climb.

He shuddered, a groan reverberating from somewhere deep in his chest. The sound of his fist wetly slapping up and down consumed the room and Wonwoo knew it was only a matter of seconds before he lost it. You were basking in every sound and movement.

“Fuck, fuck, I-I can't—”

Suddenly, you’d pushed Wonwoo’s hand away. His stomach flipped upside down. Before he could recognize the brief loss and regain of pleasure, your suckling, wet, hot mouth was already sliding down around his erection, your grip fastening to whatever you couldn’t quite reach. Wonwoo bit his lip so hard at the sensation that something coppery-warm was tasted on his tongue, although that was the least of his concerns when you were throating him with messy desperation. His hand rested on your scalp, nervous to push your head down too firmly, but once he did, you moaned out so erotically around him that Wonwoo fragmented.

His hips bucked straight into your face while his fingers had tightened at the back of your scalp, feeling every intense throb expand against your throat, spurt after spurt filthy in your mouth. But you were diligent and zealous and Wonwoo knew you were swallowing it all despite the few tears trickling onto his pelvis. His length didn’t leave the velvet, pillowy confines of your mouth until every bit was expertly milked out from him, though had Wonwoo let his hand drift off your hair in case you wanted a breath.

With a hiccup and a wipe against your chin, you were tasting the bedroom’s heavy air and exhaling ragged as Wonwoo marvelled you.

“Trying to take my soul with you or something?” He huffed, using his thumb to remove some leftovers from the side of your lips.

You caught his hand in an instant. “No—” you piped up, quick to close your mouth around the digit and suck off whatever he politely removed, laving your tongue like you were licking a popsicle, “—I want all of it.”

He thought he might crumble, hearing you mumble such obscene words while tracks of tears dried overtop your cheeks, your voice sounding somewhat hoarse from the labour of taking him whole.

You were climbing back onto Wonwoo’s lap almost blindly, his next breath taken away by a passionate kiss you pushed so fervently onto his lips. There was another tangling of tongues, saliva mixing together, but neither attempting to take control— though at this point Wonwoo would gladly oblige to throwing you on the bed and twisting off those frustrating panties he imagined were sticking to you. He could feel your arousal dampening through the baby pink cotton as his length twitched back to hardness underneath you.

“Wonwoo,” you whined breathily into his ear while grinding your hips against him in search of friction, “I’ve got to tell you something I did.�� You bruised up his neck with more kisses. “Something bad.”

His eyes were shut, hands continuing to grope your ass. “Yeah?” He mumbled, feeling your tongue drag across a vein in his neck. “You did something bad? What could that be?”

Your hands drifted down his chest, yanking open the buttons on his dress shirt in satisfying pops. Warm, feathery breath hit his ear. “That day I stayed the night in your bedroom… alone…” you kissed him on his mouth, letting it linger and last, “I couldn’t help it.”

Wonwoo had gripped the side of your face, meanwhile he rubbed underneath the waistband to your tiny, thin underwear.

“Couldn’t help what?”

He flinched as your hand sunk down to grab his cock.

“I touched myself,” you confessed just an inch from his face, “I laid back against your pillows, spread my legs all wide… I had my fingers stuffed so deep inside myself, but it still didn’t feel like enough.” Again, you were softly stroking him. Wonwoo continued to uphold that unwavering, painfully honest gaze you were pinning him in. “Nd’ I came all over your t-shirt, Wonwoo. I played with myself until my fingers were cramping and my legs couldn’t stay open anymore.”

He gulped—heavy—like swallowing a chunk of lead. His tender thumb grazed along your cheek and rubbed over your puffy lips. “I wanted to fuck you so bad that night,” Wonwoo soothed your confession with another, which was already quite obvious, “I dreamt about it. I wanted to bury myself so fucking deep inside your gut.”

You shook your head, eyes teary. “Why didn’t you?” He felt the delicate stroking motion along his erection come to a pause.

Wonwoo cradled your cheek. “It would have fucked everything up.”

“But I wanted it,” you whimpered. “I’ve been wanting it for so long and you just left me there. I would have been quiet. You could have put me face down in the pillows and just used me all you wanted.”

“No,” Wonwoo argued, “I would never want to use you. I want us to be together in everything. I know you wanted it. But lust makes you think different. Just like it’s making you think different right now.”

He softly slotted his mouth with yours, exchanging a much slower, sweeter kiss that lit a glow in his belly. You puddled right into the contact, curling your arms back around his neck to hold him tighter.

Much lighter kisses dappled the edges of your lips.

Wonwoo could feel you start to smile.

“I figured something was off the next morning,” he said.

You chuckled, “I didn’t know how to face with you without thinking about it. I felt so dirty. But in the moment, I needed something.”

He nipped down your slender neck, letting his hot breath and reverberating, husky tone tickle your skin until your hairs stood up.

“How wet were you?” Wonwoo purred, smirking.

Immediately, your hips were pushing down on him. “Soaked,” you then whispered, “I was making such a mess. I tried so hard to be quiet. But part of me wanted you to hear.”

Wonwoo’s hands drifted up your t-shirt, gliding slow against your stomach, coming to reach the plump, sensitive breasts that he could only surmise were waiting for his attention. He cupped them in each palm, giving a tender squeeze and pull that pitched your breath into a squeak. Caressing your neck with more wet, open-mouthed kisses, he felt the absentminded grinding reignite the friction between you.

“Did you touch up here, too?”

His thumbs brushed your pert nipples. He felt you shiver.

“Y-Yes.”

Tsking his teeth, he pleasured them with slow, rubbing circles that you mewled in response to. “You’ve got the softest skin. I could touch you until I die, and it still wouldn't be enough.”

“Mmhm,” he heard you exhale shakily, “I touch myself at home, too. Put my pillow between my legs. Pretend I’m grinding against you. Then let my fingers take me again and again until it hurts.”

How dare you fucking say that to him—how dare you put such an intimate visual in his mind to haunt him like a ghost to hallowed grounds. How many times had you done it? How many times had you stood right in front of him, smiling so innocently, despite knowing damn well what you had done to yourself the night before.

Wonwoo pinched your nipples, watching you flinch.

“Does it hurt right now?”

You nodded.

“Where?” He lowered his voice, sinking his hand back down the creases in your tummy until it paused right on your mound, his eyes trained to your suddenly very desperate, misty look. “Down here?”

“Yes.”

Holding eye contact with you, Wonwoo trailed his hand further along your panties until his touch was situated right between your thighs, directly feeling the wet fabric, the radiating heat, the aroused pulsations. Your fingernails were pricks in his shoulders.

“Fuck, you are drenched, aren’t you?” Wonwoo commented, rubbing his hand against you through the cotton material, your hips soon chasing the overwhelming pleasure. “Can feel you throbbing against my hand, you know that? Bet it aches so fucking good, hm?”

He grinned hard at your eyebrows knitting together. While he massaged you with one hand, the other gripped your chin where he pushed a hot, uncoordinated kiss onto your whiny mouth.

“Lay across my lap,” Wonwoo whispered in between the hasty break for air, “let me play with you instead, make you cum. Please.”

To his delight, your compliance came easily.

It didn’t take long for you to splay yourself in the desired position, with Wonwoo pushing up the shirt to bunch at your waist while your bottom was perfectly presented in his lap. He massaged you, leaning down to mark a trail of kisses along your lower back, along your ass—spreading you wide to see the large, soaked patch glistening on those easily rippable underwear.

“Just open your thighs a bit more,” Wonwoo instructed, to which you quickly listened, “fuck—perfect—all this, only for me.” He pushed his thumb against you through the panties and you instantly squeaked.

“Right?” He urged. “Is this all just for me?”

“Mmhm—yes, yes. I fucking promise. Just for you.”

Wonwoo bit his lip to stop the size of the immediate smile from breaking across his face. Your hips wriggled up as his touch drifted away.

“I need more,” you groaned in frustration, “please.”

“More here?” Wonwoo pulled back on one side of your glute to help reveal the sensitive area, then rubbing his thumb against your clit.

Your entire body jerked, and he noticed your fingers dig into the bedsheets, clawing them up. He figured the wet friction between his thumb and your panties was frustratingly amplifying every little sensation in a dull but very cruel way. He continued his ministrations, adding some more pressure for you to squirm and moan at.

“Does it still hurt?” Wonwoo asked, letting his other hand slide up your bare waist, the skin beginning to sweat and turn even warmer.

“Please,” you groaned, attempting to adjust your hips against the stroking from his thumb, “I feel like m’gonna fucking die, Wonwoo.”

“Still need more, then?”

“Yes!”

Deciding to throw you a bone, Wonwoo grabbed those thin, pink panties in his hand and helped you slide the constricting fabric down and off your legs. Once he spread you nice and wide, let the cold air ghost the slicken, swollen skin, you had gasped. For a moment, Wonwoo didn’t speak—he only stared at you with all the stars in the universe collecting behind his eyes, glittering like a snow globe—at how beautiful and exposed and needy you looked.

He let his fingers slide ever so slowly along your clit, drawing up to your hole, then pushing back down to hear you whimper brokenly.

Wonwoo swallowed the dryness in his throat.

“Do you have any fucking idea how beautiful you are?” He complimented, his fingers soaking in your arousal. “I knew your cunt would look pretty, but this is more than that. God…” experimentally, Wonwoo shifted a finger gentle into your opening, giving the digit a wriggle and few shallow pumps. Immediately your intense warmth clenched down tight before loosening, engendering him to effortlessly press in two more long fingers. “There you go… good girl…” he mumbled his encouragement as you gripped the bedsheets and moaned a guttural sound, “taking in my fingers so fucking well—they slide in so easy… make such perfect, dirty noises whenever they fill up this gorgeous cunt.”

His thumb touched at your clit, lending it some attention that had you twisting and bucking back to receive even more pleasure.

“God, Wonwoo…” you gasped, sounding lost to the ecstasy while letting him take his time with mapping out your inner walls with curious strokes, “that feels so fucking good. You have no idea. Feels like m’gonna pour all over you.”

He grinned, further stimulating your swollen clit, maintaining the pattern as you propped up on your elbows, tugged at the bedspread, and released a mellifluous, shuddering moan from your throat.

“F-fuck ye-yess…” you whined as his fingers squelched deeper and his thumb continued its circles, “yes, yes, yes, keep doing that—oh-oh, fuck! M’gonna cum all over your fingers—m’gonna make a mess!”

“That’s all I want,” he breathed, his chest tightening at how much arousal was pooling sticky around his digits, “that’s all I’ve ever fucking wanted—make a mess all over me, like the pretty, desperate girl you are. Let me see it. Let me feel everything. Cum just for me.”

Your entire body proceeded to seize, Wonwoo’s fingers now struggling to pump, as this striking wave seemingly coursed through you and resulted in heavy fluids wetting his dress pants. It took a moment for you to power through the pleasure, though Wonwoo was at least able to maintain his stroking gestures against your clit until he noted the sharp, almost spastic twitches in your muscles.

“That’s a good girl,” Wonwoo hummed in satisfaction while he gingerly eased his fingers out and left your poor, throbbing bud alone.

He smoothed his hand down your back, offering you a moment to relax, breathe, and ride out the electricity.

“Fuck,” you wiped at the sweat on the back of your neck, chuckling at the discomfort, “I can feel it all between my legs.”

Wonwoo smirked. Hard. He bent forward to peck your temple, then brushed his lips against your stinging hot ear. "How about I clean that all up for you?" The velvety whisper caused your body to jitter.

"Clean me up how?" You turned your head, catching his eye.

There was a swap of positions. Wonwoo lowered himself to the bedroom floor, the carpet spongey against his knees, while you lay down on your back and draped your legs off the edge of the bed. But he was hungry for you, and greedier than a treasure hunter, and you went limp as he hitched your knees over his broad shoulders.

Being face to face with your intimate heat was like the kiss of life—new energy was taking over him—giving him desire unlike any other.

He didn't know if he wanted to keep staring at you, your soft skin messy with slick and twitching anticipatorly at his closeness, or if he should stop prolonging the moment and just bury everything into you. Adjusting his glasses, Wonwoo licked his bitten lips. You were in the midst of shuffling up to your elbows, likely wondering what the hell he doing, staring between your thighs for so long.

But as quickly as you squeaked his name, it was interrupted by an intense gasp a second later. You leaned all your weight onto a single elbow, tossing your head back, panting for dear life as Wonwoo striped his tongue long and flat against your heat. His hands gripped your hips, sculpting them over your bone while he tasted your arousal, all sticky and musky and delicious to the point of addiction.

"O-Oh my god, Wonwoo," you cried, letting your body collapse onto the bedsheets, limbs becoming jelly, "that feels fucking amazing."

He licked into you like he were trying to reach the centre of a sweet, colourful jawbreaker. Every pass from his tongue was firm, encompassing, smothering you in pleasure and painting you with spit. But you reacted best when he toyed his ministrations around your sensitive clit—your back would jolt off the bed, arched, as your thighs hugged him tight—Wonwoo heard your begging akin to a distant echo. He would even smile into you, glasses all foggy, chin running in wetness, as you preached his name dumbly, losing your mind. Wonwoo pressed his mouth hot against you, flicking his tongue to your overstimulated clit, focusing hard on his pattern.

"Fuck, fuck!" You shouted, writhing into the sheets. "Please, Wonwoo. Please, please, please—I'm—I'm gonna cum! Please, just—k-keep—"

There was a surge of something warm and liquid that Wonwoo wanted to drink like a peach's nectar. You were throbbing right under his tongue and he loved it to a point that felt utterly insane. He didn't want to stop even if the world was ending. His face plunged in deeper, his hands grafting into your hips harsher, completely ignorant to your fingers pulling at his hectic locks of hair. Wonwoo only wanted you and nothing else and he was going to drown in it.

But you were attempting to sit up, your sweaty body becoming better at escaping his eager, hungry licks that dug into your slit, and once he heard you wince particularly sharp, he knew he had to stop.

He sat back, removing his glasses and wiping off his chin. You slid a leg from his shoulder, using a foot to gently prod against his chest—a light scolding for perhaps enjoying you a little too much.

"Are you starved?" You laughed heavily, gulping down a breath.

Wonwoo fit the glasses back to his face. "For you? Yes." He then licked at his teeth and lips, still yearning to find traces of your arousal, only to realize you were shaking. "Shit—I'm sorry if I hurt you." Standing up, he cupped your face, bending down to kiss you gentle on the lips over and over. "I'm so fucking sorry. You taste amazing, that's all. And you're so beautiful. I couldn't fucking help it."

With a giggle, you tousled his hair. "No, I'm fine. I like a little pain." Your eyes were back to shining. Then, you caught his mouth, stealing another kiss. "But I’m even greedier than you—," pushing yourself up, you nipped at his lips, “—and I want that pretty, long cock inside me to hit all the right spots.” The exchange had you seated back in Wonwoo’s lap, where your bare, soaked pussy was free to brush against his straining and achingly hard length.

“Yeah?” Wonwoo smirked, welcoming your spit-smeared mouth.

Feeling your hips grind against him, you purred, “yeah.”

“I’ve got no protection,” Wonwoo admitted in between the make-out session, hardly able to pry your lips from one another as you slid backward on the bed with Wonwoo climbing over top.

Helping to shove off his dress shirt and slacks, discarding them to the floor, you shook your head. “Don’t need it.”

Returning the gesture, Wonwoo had you fully undressed. The entirety of your bare body on full display felt like something sacred—an artwork that had been crafted with unimaginable attentiveness to every single detail, no matter how miniscule. He couldn't liken it to anything else in his life but a distant memory from childhood—a grand mausoleum that he found himself inside with his older brother, the ceiling intricately chiselled with angelic, satin-like bodies.

Your words seemed distant. It took a second for him to remember.

“Don't need protection? Why?"

As your hands locked behind his neck, pulling him down close, you dug into his eyes with an emotional gaze. “Finish inside me.”

He stuttered, furrowing his brow, “seriously? You won’t—”

“No. I’m taking precautions, you know.” Brushing at his dampened, thick hair, you asked, “have you ever had unprotected sex?”

Wonwoo scoffed, surprised at the inquiry, “yeah. But—is that—you really want that? With me?” He stared down at you intensely.

“I only want it if you want it, too.”

He nodded, biting his lip, taking a moment to examine your perspiring face alongside the the rising and dipping of your chest.

“I want it,” Wonwoo reaffirmed, “I definitely want it.”

Truth be told, a splinter of nerves had lodged into his chest at the thought of having to perform to your anticipation—Wonwoo was never really sure if he would ever get intimate with you—and as his gaze again streamed your body, he felt overwhelmed. But then your fingertips were stroking down his bicep, seemingly drawing out the forthcoming anxiety from him like you were pulling out a thread of energy, and the easygoing smile he was met with tamed his heart.

Wonwoo eased closer toward you, allowing your expert touches to be the guide. Your hand had returned to his length for a few more thorough and especially lentamente tugs, prompting him to hiss into your neck while very flushed shades of pink crawled up his face.

He felt himself throb, wanting to simply collapse against you and climax at your hand for the second time. To make matters even more complicated, Wonwoo felt you shift slightly, and then the tip of his impatient cock was suddenly gliding all slippery like butter along your folds. Wonwoo’s arms started to shake.

You laid your palm gentle against his neck.

“How’s that feel?” You whispered in a trembling breath, meanwhile continuing the heavenly ministrations of tracing your clit with his length. “I-I think it feels quite nice—getting you all wet.”

“Amazing,” he answered, pressing his forehead to yours and pecking at your lips, “you want me to take it from here?”

Keeping silent, your grip drifted from his erection and you seemed satisfied to let the control sway now that Wonwoo was adjusted. Just before he aligned himself, however, he looked at you and laughed.

“Can you push up my glasses real quick?”

You chuckled, “seriously?”

“What’s wrong with wanting to be see you properly?”

“Nothing,” you flashed a tender smile, then using your finger to help position the glasses back up his nose, “there you go.”

Wonwoo proceeded to slide himself inside you at a slower pace that allowed him to bask in the intimate sensation—he made damn sure every little squeeze, flutter, and convulsion your heat cushioned him with was felt—though that made it considerably hard for him not to release in pathetic fashion, before he had even made a good, swift thrust. You were soaking up the moment just as much.

He didn’t want to advert his eyes from the pleasure cascading like ripples across your face for even a second. Once he was buried in still and deep, completely stuffing you to the hilt, your breath had fogged up his glasses.

“Fuck—s-sorry—” you squirmed through the apology, your hips occasionally canting against his in unbridled twitches, “—I can hardly fucking think right now. Do you know how much you’re throbbing?”

He choked out a hoarse laugh, “do you know how insanely good you feel to me? Feels like m’gonna fucking break into a million pieces. ”

“I want you to break me into a million pieces,” you whined so needily, looping your arms around his neck, “fuck me, Wonwoo. Please.”

He was positive you had told him that in a dream once.

As euphoric as you felt clenching around him, Wonwoo truly did want the sex to last. His thrusts into your heat weren’t frantically impatient, rather they grooved incredibly, purposefully deep—each stroke was thoughtful but hard, slow but timely, and judging from your high-pitched keens and the nails scraping against his shoulder blades, he knew you were appreciating the moment just the same.

Wonwoo grasped your sweaty hands in his, your fingers interlocking tight, in order to hold them against the sea of silky pillows above your head. With another especially daggering thrust that made his teeth clench and his abdomen flutter, you had jerked and cried out his name, followed by a breathless, “rr-right there!”

A leg wrapped around his hips, your ankle digging uncomfortably into his side while he continued to push his length into the spot that was making you howl. But it was getting increasingly difficult to continue the tempo—your leg was tightening around him like a boa constrictor and your warmth was clamping down with plain strength, almost as though your body was attempting to lock him inside.

He merely squeezed your hands harder, losing his breath. “You’re almost there, aren’t you?” Taking advantage of another thorough stroke, Wonwoo had the bedframe thudding the wall, his words hotly pressing into your ear. “You’re trying to keep me suctioned in.”

Your whimpers were falling apart like crumbling clay. Wonwoo tried to understand what it was you were mewling at him, something involving his name, how good it felt, that he should keep going, meanwhile tears were springing to your eyes and wetting your glimmery cheeks. Wonwoo bit his lip. He was throbbing wildly inside your heat, knowing you were only getting dumber and turning incoherent as he speared you so intimately on his cock.

Wonwoo wasn’t going to last much longer and neither were you. He was already feeling himself burst and break—the convulsion ripped through him like a landslide and now your leg was fully hooked around his hips, pinning him against you while he emptied himself disgustingly deep inside your warmth.

The sensation must have triggered your own orgasm, because his cock felt like it was practically being suffocated as you squeezed down on him. Wonwoo thought he might blackout when you whined his name into the dim bedroom humidity, strung in a loud, trembling lilt that cracked beautifully in the middle.

Your arms were winding back around his neck, pulling his face to yours, a kiss crushed onto his awaiting mouth.

“I need more,” you panted in between the kisses, “don’t feel full enough yet. Cum inside me again, Wonwoo. Please, take me again.”

“Again?” He smiled, his glasses bumping your nose. You were completely uncaring, only nipping at him harder. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted, “I’ve never been surer of anything in my fucking life.” Suddenly, you were wriggling underneath him, rolling onto your stomach, and repositioning yourself such that you were face-down-ass-up. With eyes twinkling bright in pure, carnal lust, you threw him a a yearning glance from over your shoulder. “Fuck me again, nice and deep like before." His heart shot into his throat. When you begged, it was like his world was shrinking into a bubble where only you and him existed. "Please—I need it before your cum starts leaking out. I need to be filled by you, Wonwoo. Please.” You looked like you might cry if he didn't oblige the plead.

And so he did, his fingers planting a firm grip on your strong hips.

As much as you were willing to take, he was willing to give, finding himself submerge further and further into the intoxicating nature of it all until he started to lose his mind—all he knew is that it was concerningly late at night, your bedsheets were sticky and ruined, and you had gone from being thrust into the pillows to slapping yourself down on his cock while Wonwoo hazily watched. He loved the sight of your sweat, your glowing light, your bouncing breasts and pleasure-drunk face far too much. At some point, you had slumped forward into him, spent to fucking hell.

With your chests were pressed together, his cock still throbbing and stuffed inside you, there was a moment of nothing but thick, laboured breathing and heartbeats synchronizing. He kissed your temple and wrapped his arms around you, proceeding to mumble something sweet and half-asleep that contained your name.

You had squeezed his length unforgivingly in response.

“Fuck—don’t get me hard again. I’m fucking exhausted.”

“I like when you use my name.”

He smiled into your cheek. “I can tell.”

Wonwoo had woken before you.

Mostly because the bedsheets had been gradually wrapped up and tugged away and progressively stolen from him during the night, letting the cool, morning air dust over him like spray from an ocean. You were a fidgety sleeper, he had realized, sometimes even a mumbler, although Wonwoo had never been able to discern what it was you were sluggishly declaring in your dreams.

He turned his head to you, saw the bare groove of your back, shapely like a flower petal, and your arm dug underneath the silk pillow, observing every breath your unconscious body took.

Then, Wonwoo was leaning over you, feeling his fingers sink into your fleshy waist while his lips touched a kiss against your warm cheek. He hoped you wouldn’t mind him using your washroom for a shower.

Afterward, Wonwoo retraced the apartment, finding his shoes a questionable distance apart—one stood square at the front door while the other was left in the hallway leading to your room. His winter jacket was tossed over the arm to the couch, meanwhile his phone involved a more in-depth search. For some reason, he’d left it atop a shelf beside the television, hidden by a clumsy stack of textbooks.

When he tapped the screen, it illuminated some text messages from Vernon that had been sent at around two in the morning—mostly inquiries about the birthday dinner and whether or not Wonwoo had bothered going to the famed and mysterious Room 319.

Though, he opted not to respond, realizing the details he wanted to share with his friend would likely require a sit-down discussion over burgers, fries, and sodas at Solar Pop. Making his way back to the bedroom, Wonwoo carefully creaked open the door to find you half-shoved onto an arm, making tired circles against your eye.

He smiled, coming to sit beside you, handing off the glass of water he poured for himself.

“Are you leaving?” Was the first question you blearily pieced together after accepting the water but not drinking anything from it.

Wonwoo shook his head. “No.”

You managed to sit up properly, the sheets settling around your hips while you continued holding onto the glass. For a moment, you seemed to just observe Wonwoo, your eyes still swollen from sleep.

“Where are you going, then?”

He furrowed his brow. “Nowhere,” Wonwoo laughed, pulling one leg up onto the bed. “I got up to shower. Went and found my things. Got a glass of water, which you’re now holding, by the way.”

You swallowed, looking down at your lap.

“Oh…” after a recollecting pause, you took a sip from it.

Wonwoo smiled, his eyes softening like fresh brown sugar, as he proceeded to unstick some matted hairs from the edge of your face.

“You’re a pretty big sheet stealer,” he said, continuing to spread his fingers about your features, removing fluffs and rubbing off bits of dried spit, “and you seem to like talking, even in your sleep.”

“Oh, yeah… I should have told you that.”

He shrugged. “It’s fine. I liked not knowing.”

“Did you?” With a laugh and smile, you drank some more water.

“Yeah. Because it’s you, it makes me adore it even more.”

“I don’t always mumble. I swear. Only sometimes.”

Wonwoo didn’t care. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I guess I should shower, too. Then I’ll change the sheets and get new ones on.” You abruptly raised the blankets at your lap, lifting up a leg to examine something Wonwoo couldn’t see. “Yeah, I definitely need to change the sheets… oh! And take my pill. Fuck. I can’t forget.”

“I can help with the sheets.”

“Okay,” you said while leaning forward to pull open a drawer on your nightstand, revealing a thin, silver cartridge of pills, “thanks.”

After you had showered and gotten dressed in a clean spare t-shirt, you changed the dirtied sheets to your bed together.

Then you and Wonwoo spent some time together in the open, bright living room, lounging on the couch. Maybe you had kissed a few more times, and maybe his naturally cold hands had found their way underneath your loose t-shirt to curiously massage and press along your pretty chest, and maybe you had kissed a little more after that while the sun rays slid up your sensitive skin.

You twisted away from Wonwoo’s lips with a giggle.

“M’kay, that’s enough, or else I’ll need another shower.” You grabbed at Wonwoo’s hands that had been squeezing your breasts.

Although he didn’t want to stop, he listened, relaxing against the pillow he had stuffed between his spine and the arm of the couch, now throwing an elbow behind his head. You were leaning back against him, getting comfy between his legs, and for a few minutes or so, the two of you gazed out those large, floor-length glass windows into the awakening, snow-capped city.

He felt you stir against him.

“You know… sometimes you don’t always speak English.”

Wonwoo itched his eyebrow, chuckling, “what?”

“Last night, like, when I was riding you—” your head tilted back onto his shoulder, beaming him a smile, “—you would start switching languages. In between English and Korean. It was so cute.”

“Oh, yeah.” He adjusted his glasses, staring down at you while his cheeks became rosy. “I don’t know, it’s just something my brain does automatically. I don’t always realize I’m doing it.”

You grinned; eyes sparkling. “When it feels too good?”

Ruffling a hand through his hair, he simply smirked at you.

“Having a front seat view to the most beautiful girl in the world riding me just happens to be something that makes me feel really good.”

You pushed your head up to kiss him, followed by a sweet and brief whisper that he smiled at, “compliment appreciated.”

A few more quiet minutes passed. Wonwoo thought he could spend the entire day just sitting on the couch with you warm in his arms, watching the snow tumble down like wisps of tender willows.

“Wonwoo?”

“Mm?”

You got quiet.

Then, your weight against his chest was gone, and you had half-turned yourself around to look at him, seeming nervous.

He tilted his head. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you answered, glancing down briefly before soaking him back into your agleam eyes. “I just want to apologize, actually.”

At that, Wonwoo stiffened. “Yeah? What for?”

With a sigh and another anxious moment to fiddle with the rolled-up cuff belonging to his wrinkled dress shirt, you were reserved.

“Ever since we fought, I can't help thinking about it. I mean, I’ve thought about what you said, and the fact you apologized, and explained yourself, and how you gave me time to process it all. You gave me so much grace, even when I felt like I hated you… but… I also said some hurtful things about you… I mean, back then I felt like you deserved it. And, I don’t know… maybe you did? Like, maybe we both needed to just be there, screaming at each other, digging our guts out, throwing up all this stuff to the surface because no one else has ever given us that freedom or made us feel like we could before. Anyway, I just feel like it’s only right that I say sorry, too.”

Scratching at his neck, Wonwoo swallowed. He never thought of it like that. “Uh, sure. If that’s what you feel you need to do. ”

“I’m sorry, Wonwoo. I really, truly am.”

He smiled, grasping at your hand and threading his fingers with yours. Pangs of regret were flooding your eyes, filling them up until they were undoubtedly teary and Wonwoo had to wipe it all away.

“It’s fine, I swear,” he whispered, moving in closer to you, brushing at your cheek as you sniffled. “Nothing has ever truly changed how I feel about you. You’re incredibly firm but sensitive, and have such fiery passion, and you’re curious about everything, and I know that it hurts so much to live without really knowing yourself. But I see you, and I feel like I know you. I never want to stop knowing you, alright?”

“Wonwoo?”

“Yeah?”

Your mouth pressed against his, and he tasted the salt from the tears that beaded down the slopes of your cheeks, warm with life.

“I love you.” He felt the whisper touch at his lips. “I really do.”

Wonwoo held onto your face like he was cradling a big pearl. “I love you, too.” Another kiss sealed the expression into felt, tangible emotion. “But honestly, you already knew that.”

Later in the day, you came up to Wonwoo as he ate lunch at the table, only after having disappeared into a distant office space further down the hallway. You dropped before him a clear, plastic duotang, which held a notably thick stack of papers that had quite a weight to it upon picking up. It only took a few flips into the papers for Wonwoo to realize that it was the completed book he used to proofread for you—a series of chronological memories between yourself and the boyfriend you had gradually drifted apart from.

True to your word, you had forged ahead and finished the book alone.

He was proud to hold the evidence.

Wonwoo asked what you planned to do with the book now that it was done. He even wondered if you might let him read some parts he never got to work on, though he understood if you preferred to keep the contents private. As he was in the middle of lifting a hot spoon to his mouth, Wonwoo suddenly paused at hearing your response.

“I think I’ll just shred it.”

You didn’t seem to care.

The decision came easier than pressing a button. There was only one copy of the book, apparently, and you had plans to turn all its pages into literary confetti. But that was a very you thing to do, Wonwoo had come to accept. Writing served many purposes, and it seemed that the purpose you had sought out was met. Somewhere, in all those paragraphs, sentences, letters, and ink, you found the fulfillment you had always ached for. At last, you struck a glimmer of promising gold after digging through all the haze and confusion.

“Sure,” he answered, “shred away.”

—8 MONTHS LATER. END OF JUNE.

“It looks so pathetic!”

“What?! No it doesn’t!”

Peeking up from the mason jar of earthy blue water he’d been swirling together using some dirtied paintbrushes, Wonwoo saw you seated across from him, talking to a very dismayed, upset twelve-year-old girl. Sierra’s little sister, Cora, had enrolled in his landlord’s ceramics class over the summer, and thus every Saturday evening she spent her time moulding unwilling chunks of grey clay alongside other similarly aged students. It was only Cora in the shop since she had been the last to get her teapot in the kiln, taking extra time with every minute detail.

Though, despite her care and attentive pace, Cora was still not pleased with the teapot, leading her to grumble and shake her head.

You were sitting beside her, a hand rubbing along the little girl’s back while she continued scrutinizing her creation. Ever since you moved into Wonwoo’s apartment back in May, Saskia had quite liked you more than her average tenant, and that somehow transformed into an offer to help her teach the summer ceramics class (with pay).

Wonwoo was always there to assist in the clean-up afterward—his favourite part was submerging all the greasy, bristly paintbrushes into a clean jar of water so that he could watch how their colours bled out in thin, swirling hues.

“No, no, no—it’s just bad.”

“I’m telling you. It’s not.”

Cora picked up the lid to the pot, then placed it back down. “There—look—it doesn’t even close properly. And the spout is not spouty enough… it’s too thick, I think. Hardly any tea will go through!”

“Well, I really like it.”

Tucking a tuft of poofy, rust-brown hair behind her ear, Cora gave you a suspecting and funny sort of look that made Wonwoo smile to himself. She was a very shy student, but she talked to you the most.

“You say that about everything I make,” Cora sighed.

“So what?”

“So…” she nibbled on her small lip, looking off to the side, “you have to say that, because you're nice. You’re like my mom. She says she loves everything I make. But then why don’t I ever love it?”

“She loves it because you made it, obviously. And she loves you. I think love changes how we look at things. Even the impractical.” Then, you picked up her teapot and moved it closer. “You know why I like this teapot? Because it shows you’re determined. I mean, look at all those bowls on the newspaper over there—you’re the only one who did the teapot! And you did it mostly by yourself. You wouldn’t even let me help you roll out the clay. So, that’s why I like it. Because I see you in it. And when you tackle it again, you’ll know what to do differently. Plus, you know you can ask me for help, right? You know I’ll always help you.”

The little girl’s freckled face suddenly became less twisted with judgement and frustration. She set her elbows onto the table, scratching at a Hello Kitty bandaid along the back of her hand, while you gave her hair a quick ruffle. Wonwoo started drying off the paintbrushes using paper towel before moving them into the cup labelled “clean” with a piece of tape.

“What should I do with this, then? If it won’t work,” Cora asked.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. But for now, just leave it with the other stuff. We’ll give it a nice glaze next time around. Make it even prettier. Then you can decide what to do with it—whether or not you want to keep it or smash it on the ground. It’s up to you, Cora.”

Wonwoo tilted his head. “Why don’t you turn it into a miniature flower pot or something? Fill it with soil and plant something in it?”

Cora raised her eyebrows. “I like that idea, actually.”

“Me too,” you said, shooting Wonwoo a sly wink that he smiled very stupidly at, “look at this guy over here. Lurking with his good ideas.”

By the time Sierra was available to pick up her sister, Wonwoo had officially finished cleaning all the paintbrushes and whittling tools, as well as replacing the tablecloth with a fresh one. The three of you stood at the base to the shop’s very small stoop, exchanging some general conversation while a sleepy Cora held onto her sister’s hand and leaned her seemingly heavy head against her side.

The sky was a tame yellow shade, not as bright as a buttercup, but something delicate of the like.

“Hey—I heard you guys are planning a vacation!” Sierra chirped, adjusting the car keys in her hand, “is that all true?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, flashing Wonwoo a soft smile, “uh, we decided that we’re gonna spend some time in South Korea. I haven’t visited his family at all. But, yeah. Gonna leave start of August and come back right before October. So, a pretty good chunk of time.”

“No way!” She exclaimed.

“We’ll see how it pans out,” Wonwoo commented, sliding his arm around your waist and digging his fingers into your hip. “But my brother won’t shut his mouth about meeting her. And my parents are obviously curious. Besides, there are some great places I want to show off.”

Sierra shook her head. “I’m jealous. And totally sure you guys will have a great experience together. We’ll miss you here, though.”

“Please do,” you laughed, and Sierra pinched your cheek.

She then looked down at her sister, who had her eyes shut.

“Okay, I’m gonna get this little dove home. Thank you so much for helping her at ceramics by the way. She talks about you all the time.”

“Really?” You touched at your face, seeming flustered. “Well, I love helping her out. She’s a sweet girl with a lot of will on her shoulders.” Lowering your voice, you moved in closer to Sierra. “I’ll keep my eyes peeled for a cute gift she can have while we’re gone.”

After parting ways with Sierra and Cora, you and Wonwoo returned upstairs, back into the apartment to prepare for supper.

Both of you were feeling particularly lazy, and the shiny red tomato he was supposed to chop ended up being ignored in place of eating ice cream straight from its tub.

You were the one who grabbed it—Wonwoo was only following suit as he picked up a spoon and curved some out.

Something else interesting about you that Wonwoo had learned since moving in together was that you didn’t really care to ever sit on a chair, even when you were eating. It was either the sofa, the floor, or the kitchen table, in which you would be holding onto your food even though he always thought how easier it could be if you did sit down properly. The quirk was fun, nonetheless, and Wonwoo had admittedly started looking at the kitchen table in a different light after he proceeded to give you oral on it one night. Consequently, it bloomed a very dangerous habit between the two of you.

A habit that might become drastically less accessible once you two jetted off to his native country for over a month, confined between his parent’s cozy home where he grew up and the two-story apartment his wealthy brother and sister-in-law owned in the glittering heart of South Korea’s Seoul. He was nervous. You were nervous. But at least you were together.

Over the months, your parents had gradually come to accept him as your boyfriend, even if they weren't exactly warmed up to the idea at the start. Wonwoo revisited your home a few times alongside you to help in the explanations of your story and future prospects, although he partially understood that Mingyu was like a precious sapphire to your family and having him out so suddenly was hard to stomach.

He spent years nestling himself a comfortable burrow and smoothing out the bumps to make a crafty façade that, particularly your mother, couldn't help but outwardly adore. Like a son. Like Seokmin, too.

Wonwoo thought Mingyu might give him trouble.

In truth, he'd scarcely seen him, unless transient glimpses of his towering, quickly bustling figure from across a university campus or city street were noteworthy. Obviously, he wasn't inside Mingyu's head and he really had no inclination as to what the boy might be thinking on the occasion he spotted you and Wonwoo hand-in-hand at the park, or sharing breakfast at the café along Sunnyside.

But if Mingyu maintained even half the feelings that Wonwoo did for you, then he was positive it hurt like fucking hell.

Of all people, Wonwoo supposed he himself knew best.

—AUGUST 1ST.

“Wonwoo!”

He closed his dresser drawer, almost slamming his fingers inside. Your voice echoed from the living room, sounding hectic.

“Yes? What’s up!”

“The taxi’s here!”

Fuck. He immediately thought. The time was flying by.

Wonwoo had made a gigantic list of what to pack, but over time he kept adding and taking things away from it. Now, it was early morning, soft rain and cracks of bursting light coming down outside, and he was doing a final clean-sweep of the bedroom as well as his poorly scribbled list to ensure everything he needed was with him.

Quickly approaching the window, Wonwoo glanced outside to see the cab parked at the curb. Fuck. Again. Vernon always said he would happily provide you two a ride to the airport, but then the boy was unsurprisingly wrapped back into some trouble, and Wonwoo hadn’t seen his best friend in over a week.

Graciously, however, Vernon had given him a heads up and a proper goodbye beforehand. He’d even left him a voicemail to listen to, which immediately jumped into Wonwoo’s brain at random as he scrambled around the bedroom in search of his phone.

“Just give me one more minute!” Wonwoo shouted.

There was a pause on your end, and then a sigh.

“Do you need help?”

“No—all good. I promise. Can you let the cab driver know?”

“I will.”

“Thank you!” Wonwoo sang, finding the phone blended into his bedsheets, then proceeding to open his inbox. “I love you!”

“I love you, too!” You shouted back. “Just hurry the fuck up!”

He let Vernon’s message play while also tossing his suitcase onto the bed, stuffing in a few more last-minute grabs with utter clumsiness.

“Heyyy, Glasses! How are things? I’m shooting you this cute little message at arounddd—oh! Looks like it’s two in the mornin’! It’s two in the fuckin’ mornin’ and I’m pulled up outside this dude’s house all ‘cause he can’t pay me back for my good, hard services. It’s nothin’ serious, though. Don’t get all uptight like usual. You know I’m good at handlin’ stuff and keepin’ my cool. Probably my better qualities. Anyway, I’m bored as fuck. I’ve spun this Lloyd CD about four times and I just can’t listen to that dude anymore. He can sing, though.

I am pissed you’re leavin’ me. And I’m pissed she’s leavin’ me, too. You guys are what I look forward to whenever I drive down into that shithole city. Well, I think just about every city’s a shithole city. In fact, the city I’m in now is probably more of a shithole… Seokmin texted me the other day—said he wants to talk—which is vague as fuck and to be honest, I’ve been ignorin’ it ‘cause I can’t get myself to give a god damn. But maybe I’ll hear him out. That guy was a cutie, wasn’t he? I still think you’re a bit cuter. And better at mini-put.

I’ll miss you a lot when you’re down there… it got me thinkin’ about the night when we first met. The New Year’s Eve party. You remember that pretty well, don’t’chya? I saw you come in with those guys—they didn’t look like your crowd at all—but then after a while you were alone. Wanderin’ around. It didn’t even seem like you knew anyone else was there. You had the blankest look on your face. Like you were stuck in a loop and you didn’t even know it. I don’t know that I felt pity or anything… hell, maybe I felt a little. I just talked to ��ya ‘cause I wanted to know if you knew where you even were.

You knew you were at some stupid, loud, awful fuckin’ house party jammed with unfamiliar faces. You knew how much you hated bein’ there. But I don’t think you actually knew how you got there, or why, or what was supposed to happen next. It kinda drew me to you. I wanted to understand it. And you gave me the weirdest look, too, when I stopped you. But once I got you outside, away from all the bullshit, you loosened up just a bit and I realized I was talkin’ to this smart, well-rounded, thoughtful guy who was just a little lost in the weeds.

I know you didn’t really care about me like that. I was just some jumped-up weirdo who could give you mint weed at a sweet price. But I still liked you… I dunno… other people see you differently when they care a whole lot, don’t they? I guess they see things about you that others can’t, or they know exactly what you could be when others don’t. They see stuff even you can’t see. It’s like a superpower, I think… my best superpower is probably makin’ girls giggle. I’ve got a lot of charm, wouldn’t you agree? Ha—anyway—stay safe on your trip, tell Her that I’ll miss her a lot, too—oh! Oh!

Fuck! That’s it. That little fucker is comin’ outside—he can’t resist his two am darts on the porch. God bless you, nicotine! Okay, uh, guess this is me hangin’ up on you. Later, Wonwoo!”

At that point, everything Wonwoo needed was packed. But he’d taken the additional time to complete Vernon’s voicemail, now sitting on the edge of his bed while staring out into the early, glimmering rain shower and the water droplets collecting against his window.

Then, Wonwoo glanced down at the laptop he had open.

He hadn’t written in… months. Not even months—it had been over a year since Wonwoo wrote. And, somehow, it felt good not to write.

It felt necessary to step away from the craft.

Besides, writing would always be there. Just because he hadn’t filled up a document on his computer with harmoniously arranged words, or penned anything down in the journal he used to scribble poetry in, that didn’t make him not a writer. In fact, it could be crucial to know when to step away from something—when to let go of an invisible weight keeping one from progressing. While he hadn’t thought about it in months, it floated to the surface of his mind that there may be something he should let go.

The unfinished book. 01.

Wonwoo deleted it. Simple as that.

Shoving the laptop into his shoulder-sling bag, Wonwoo made sure to knab his journal from the nightstand before he left, just in case anything did excite him with a crack of inspiration as he embarked on his newest chapter with you at his side. Rolling his suitcase hurriedly behind him, Wonwoo rushed out onto the street, feeling the rain graze his hair and skin, while you were leaned against the cab, arms folded and teeth anxiously raking over your bottom lip.

He peppered the cab driver in apologies while he helped shove the suitcase into the trunk.

“Liar—” you grumbled after sliding into the cab, undoing the buttons on your coat, “—you said one minute, not one lifetime.”

“I know, I know,” Wonwoo laughed, removing his glasses to rub off the mist and dew, “but that voice mail from Vernon distracted me.”

“Let me do it,” you said, taking his glasses with a sigh, “we should be fine. I know we’ll make it on time… I guess I’m just on edge.”

He watched you massage at the lenses gently with a sleeve. The driver climbed back into the cab, now pulling away from the pottery shop and driving toward the beam of light that sliced through the dense clouds, like the sun was handling a giant blade.

“Everything’s gonna work out, I promise… and I already told you that we’ll be staying with Bohyuk first, right? Him and Nari?”

Handing the glasses back to Wonwoo, you nodded.

“Yeah… god—I hope he likes me.”

“Oh, he will. You guys are pretty similar, actually.”

The look you gave him warbled slightly.

“What if that’s a bad thing? Every time you tell me a story about your brother, it usually involves you loathing him for something.”

“Those stories took place years ago.”

“But the feelings are still there, aren’t they?”

Wonwoo settled his hand over top yours, giving your fingers a soothing squeeze. He knew you wanted to make the perfect first impression. After all, first impressions were not something that could be easily taken back or erased, unless the people you were meeting were quite forgiving. And Bohyuk was fortunately the forgiving type.

It was only time that Wonwoo exercise the quality as well.

Leaning in close to your face, Wonwoo gazed into your eyes, watching their frantic nature become still like the surface of a calm pond.

“You’ve got nothing to worry about, alright?” He murmured.

Huffing out an intense, long breath, you nodded.

“Alright… can I have a kiss, please?”

Lifting his hand to graze against the side of your cheek, he paused to admire your beauty for a moment, only to properly cup your face and push his lips to yours—which tasted sweet and balmy—before feeling you push back firm. He proceeded to give you another soft kiss for good measure, one that cured you to smile all fluttery and coy against his mouth until he was inevitably smiling, too.

In fact, Wonwoo only ever found himself smiling that hard when he was with you.

—END.

heyyyy :] ramble incoming...

first and foremost, ABOVE ALL ELSE, i just want to say thank you! i know this was a very, very long fic for me to be uploading on tumblr. this site is not the most fanfic friendly (or creation friendly for that matter) so stomaching the fact that this needed to be split up into so many parts was like a dagger to the heart! for those who decided to buckle up and lock into this journey, i honestly thank you so much <3 life was not always kind in the process of writing this (hence the fact it took me 2 years, plus some extra) but i was so dedicated to seeing this story through! a lot of the frustration i was feeling toward myself was funnelled into wonwoo's character, so this is quite personal :3

nonetheless, i hope there's something, even a single thing, someone else can take away from the story as well! both wonwoo and her as characters introduce their own unique themes--wonwoo (at the core) is more so about learning to let go in order to progress, whereas her is about using creative tools to help guide the search for identity. i think that writing has helped me learn a lot about myself (even uncomfy, icky things) so i wanted that to be represented through her.

of course, these are not the only things they stand for! but these are the elements i based their characters on, to which other concepts sprouted from. i also loved the idea of pairing someone as lost and misguided and emotionally stunted as wonwoo with this girl who seems so bossy and firm. at first he doesn't like it, but that was really what he needed to accept some of the flaws holding him back. idk if you're familiar with the EXCUSE ME! HE ASKED FOR NO PICKLES! meme but that's what comes to mind when i think of them xD

additionally: special shout out to vernon. he became a much bigger part of this story than i originally intended. he is in some ways wonwoo's foil. vernon knows he's flawed but that's sorta his strength and what makes him genuine. he witnesses wonwoo's entire journey, so at times he also feels like our role, the "reader" and gives wonwoo some wisdomy parting words without rly knowing it (but that's part of his charm <3 i don't want vernon's emotional intelligence to be underrated, which is also an ode to the conversation wonu & her have back in the museum. wonwoo knows there are different types of intelligence and emotionally he is lackinggg).

also small s/o to seokmin. SORRY! HAD TO DO IT!

this has been my slowest slowburn! i wasn't sure how late they were going to kiss. but i didn't want to force anything. i wanted to add the moment when i felt it was surely right! also, if you haven't yet listened to the playlist and you're curious, i recommend listening to the very last song, writer, by ellie goulding. i've been listening to that song for many years, and one day it hit me how coincidentally her lyrics overlap with some of the fic's storyline!

i think it adds a nice final touch <3

LASTLY!

upon contemplation, i will be uploading this fic to ao3 in the same chaptered format it's been posted here! i realize the convenience to bookmarking on that site (and it also doesn't give people's phones a heart attack when trying to read something lengthy) so i hope that appeases some of you who wish to reread with more leisure! i'll be under the username @/uglypluto!

i'll upload the final chapter (this chapter) to ao3 probably between late sunday & early monday.

THANK YOU x100! 💕

#seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen x reader #wonwoo x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo fanfic #svt scenarios #svt fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen smut #seventeen angst

334 notes · View notes

abiatackerman · 3 months ago

Text

Insecurities

Event: @levievent "Levi Month 24"

❤️‍🩹Day 14: Jealousy❤️‍🩹

Canon universe! Captain Levi Ackerman x Medic Reader! Fluffy romance! Healing words! 1.3K words

❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

"I never should've expected anything. I'm fucking stupid."

Levi Ackerman, humanity's strongest soldier, says to himself, standing on the rooftop of the survey corps hq.

He's so frustrated......

"I'm friendly to everyone, that's why I try to act friendly with you too."

Your words echo in Levi's mind as he looks up at the stars with a gloomy expression.

Right, you were just being friendly with him just like you are with everyone else. But still he hoped you liked him. How you would always smile when you noticed him, how your soft hands would stitch him up with care if he got hurt, how your face used to soften when you listened to his story without judging....

He thought maybe... Maybe you did like him. More than a friend.....

But his hopes totally got shattered today when he saw you hugging another man as intimately as you could.

It definitely wasn't his intention to sneak up and find you and your "male best friend" at the secluded corridor of the infirmary. He just accidentally spotted the scene when he went there searching for you.....

But now it's making him feel frustrated, angry and jealous.... He can't help it.... He just likes you so much.... Is it wrong for him to like someone romantically? After all he's just a human! Can't he hope for the girl he likes to like him back? Just because he's the strongest doesn't mean he's not a HUMAN!

But he knows he shouldn't feel like this. He should have known that this would eventually happen. He is a guy whose mother was a prostitute, who has no future, who's short as a midget and who can die anytime....

Why would you choose him over someone who's rich, handsome and belongs to a noble family? He was stupid to even think about the possibility.

He sighs and sits in his usual place, leaning on the wall. He takes a deep breath to calm his raging jealousy. It always helps him to calm down and to put up a stoic expression on his face. No one actually understands his actual emotions. Though he thought you knew but....

He's definitely wrong.

"Levi?"

He freezes as he hears the soft voice which never fails to make his heart beat faster. Your voice... Why are you here? The timing can't be worse.... He takes a deep breath before answering.

"What?"

He asks in a stern voice, sterner than usual. He just can't help it. He's pissed with you.

"Mood off?"

You ask, chuckling and sit beside him. You're sitting so near that he can smell your scent. As always, it's natural and sweet.

And his favourite.

"None of your business."

Levi says again, trying to ignore your presence and your scent. He should leave.... Because he will do something he'll regret later if he stays here. He was about to stand up but stops as you speak up again.

"Josh's mom died. Suicide.... His father cheated on her with a maid."

Levi freezes as he realises that you are talking about the guy he saw you earlier with. He looks at you blankly as you start to talk again.

"You know, I was so dumbfounded.... Well since we're best friends I hugged him. I don't know what else to do to comfort him. And he cried like a baby. He loved his mother."

You say as you lean on the wall and look up at the sky. Levi clicks his tongue with irritation.

Are you trying to internationally irk him up? Do you want to see how he's gonna act when he's jealous? Otherwise why are you telling him that you hugged another man when he tried to give you hints so that you'll understand he likes you?

"Why are you telling me this?"

He asks with pure annoyance and you tilt your head to look at him.

"Because I thought you deserve to know."

"And why do you think that?"

Levi's immediate question makes you sigh. You start to play with your hair and you mumble in a low tone.

"Didn't want you to think that I'm cheating with you."

Levi pauses as you say that. He doesn't understand what you meant. Does it mean that you like him too? Are you trying to imply that you two are already in a relationship? Though he doesn't mind the idea even a bit but he's feeling stupid as a brat right now. He doesn't know how to reply to your question.

"I saw you leaving when I was hugging Josh. You looked so hurt and shocked and I wanted to explain. You have to except Josh's presence in my life. He's one of my best friends and yes he may have some feelings for me but he never acted on it. Also he supports our relationship so...."

Levi stops you before you can speak any further.

"Are you trying to imply that you care more about me? Than Josh? You shouldn't. I don't deserve it. Also we're not in a relationship"

The words escapes Levi's mouth before he can realise. He immediately regrets it as soon as he notices you expression saddens. You nod.

"I know we're not but I just thought you like me. I mean I thought you gave me hints I guess I was wrong."

Levi's face softens at your answer. He looks at your face which is slightly pink now and the moonlight is highlighting your beauty more, making you look like an angel.

"Why me?"

He asks softly.

"I don't care about a prince charming Levi, I want a scarred knight for me. Who I can heal, who I can support. Who I can truly love after knowing all of his insecurities... It is my dream also...."

You say and look into Levi's eyes. Your voice turned firmer as you speak.

"You're the most incredible person I've seen. You're loyal, honest, caring and kind but you refuse to show it all. You're so beautiful and handsome and you know it too! You're strong as hell but inside you're suffering. Yet you keep fighting, for people, for humanity. Tell me, how can I stop myself from falling for you?"

Levi looks at you with a dumbfounded expression. You can't blame him because you know he may have never heard those things before. You smile and hold one of his hands, falling in love with his blue eyes which are glowing under the moonlight.

"Also about your past? I don't care. You had to do it to live. I bet your mother is so proud of you."

You smile sweetly.

"I'm jealous of her. He has an amazing son."

Levi feels tears covering his eyes so he blinks, refusing to cry.

"Shut up."

He says in a weak tone and looks away from you.

"Also look at you, what a gentleman you are! Though you were always jealous of Josh you never once behaved harshly with him. Most men would have punched him or punished me by now."

You chuckle and Levi shakes his head with amusement. You really never fail to make him smile. Or cry...

"What do you think I am? A teenager?"

You chuckle at Levi's words and shake your head.

"So you're admitting that you were jealous?"

You ask smugly and Levi looks at you and utters his words calmly.

"I don't think so there's no point in denying it since you've confessed too."

You smile widely.

"Can I take that as a yes?"

You give him your puppy eyes and he smiles a little.

"Tch yes... But never do that again. If that's not necessary."

Your face softens and you smile brightly at his words.

"You're really a gentleman, you know that? You're practically giving me the permission to hug another men. But I promise Levi, I'll never misuse the chance."

Levi makes a pissed expression and flicks your forehead.

"I trust you. I know you won't."

You rub your forehead and smile.

"I trust you too, Levi."

#levimonth24 #levi ackerman #levi #levi x you #levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi ackerman x you #levi ackerman x reader #captain levi x reader #levi x reader fluff #levi ackerman x female reader #levi ackerman x fem! reader #levi aot #captain levi #levi heichou #snk levi #levi snk

257 notes · View notes

novamariestark · 3 months ago

Text

Take My Stress Away

Summary: Jay hasn't spoken to you for a week and you feel you have lost your brother again. After a bad day at work, you find someone waiting by your car.

Warnings: fluffiness, poorly written medical scenes because I have no idea what they are saying in the show 🤣, angry-ish Jay, brief implied SA (not descriptive), proofread but there's always a mistake after posting 🤣

Word count: 3532

Fandom: Chicago P.D

Pairing: Hank Voight x halstead!reader

“I don’t know what to tell you, kid,” Herrmann said, pouring you a drink.

You scoffed, “I thought you were my friend, Hermie” you took a sip of your drink and shook your head, “You could have warned me,”

Jay was completely pissed. He stormed out of the room, without looking at you. You followed him, begging him to listen. He didn’t. You did not want this mistake to ruin your relationship with your brother.

Was it a mistake?

Of course it was, nothing is worth losing your family over.

But it was so good.

It’s not like you did it on purpose. In your defence, he said his name was Henry. Maybe you should have connected the dots, but you had two double vodkas and had just done a 12 hour shift. The only thing your brain was able to process was the hot guy sitting at the end of the bar.

Herrmann sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't think (y/n)," he said, meeting her gaze with a look that was part apology, part caution. "You seemed to like the guy. Besides, I didn’t think he was the one night stand type… or any type really."

“He wasn’t anything like Jay described,” you muttered, swirling the drink in your glass absentmindedly. Herrmann watched you closely, seeing the confusion and frustration flicker across your face. "Jay made him sound like some cold, heartless guy. But Henry... Hank,” you corrected with a sigh, “He was different. Charming, even. He made me laugh. For the first time in a long time,”

“Hey!” Herrmann exclaimed, his brows shooting up in mock offense. He placed a hand dramatically over his heart, as if you deeply wounded him, and gestured to himself with the other hand, “I make you laugh,”

You couldn't help but chuckle at his theatrics. You shook your head, still smiling, and said, "You know what I mean."

Herrmann leaned forward, resting his hands on the bar. "Give Jay some time. He'll come around. You didn't do anything wrong,”

“I don’t want to lose him over this,” you said, your voice quivering slightly. You bit your lower lip, a nervous habit you’d developed over the years, and looked down at your hands, which were tightly clasped around her glass, “I already lost 28 years,”

“You won’t,” he said, softly, placing a hand on your wrist, “families fight, they make up,”

"Thanks, Hermie,” you said, standing up from your barstool. “I have a shift tomorrow,” you added, grabbing your jacket from the back of the stool. You took the cash from your pocket and placed it on the bar for the drink.

Herrmann took the cash and put it in the register. “See you tomorrow, (Y/N),” he said, giving you a friendly smile.

The words you dreaded the most fall from Maggie’s lips, “Mass cas,” they echoed in your head and before you knew it, you were in a bay, trying to save a teenage girl’s life.

It was chaos. Everyone was stretched thin. And so were the supplies. The air smelt of sweat and blood, so potent you could almost taste it. You were alone with the girl for what felt like hours until Connor came in. He saw your face and reassured you that you had done a good job, and the girl was lucky to have you. You felt as though you weren’t. It was times like this where you question whether you are cut out for this.

But then, the machine sounded that one tone that you always dreaded. The continuous drone and despite your and Connor’s best efforts, she passed away.

Later you find from Sam that she had a bleed in the brain. Was it your fault? It felt like your fault.

Like he could read your mind, Connor came over to you, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Hey,” he said gently, “it’s not your fault.”

He glanced around at the mess the chaos had left the ER in. “In a situation like this, where there are so many patients. Even though we try our best, sometimes things don’t turn out the way we hope.”

The ER was slowly returning to order. The frantic atmosphere had calmed down, like a battlefield after the dust had settled. You moved through the now-quiet space, your mind still replaying the day’s events. You could feel the exhaustion in your limbs, but nothing was as painful as what your heart was going through. Sure you’d seen many people die before, young and old, but it doesn’t get any easier.

You worked alongside everyone, helping to tidy up the mess left behind. The day had clearly taken a toll on everyone, and it showed on their faces. Exhaustion was etched into every expression you saw. When it was finally time to leave, you were relieved.

You put your jacket on, pulling it over your shoulders and zipping it up, then, you grabbed your bag and slipped the strap onto your shoulder. You reached into the front zipper pocket and pulled out your keys, save fishing for them later in the dark car park.

On your way out of the hospital, you gave a tired wave to your colleagues, some of whom were still finishing up their tasks. Will caught your eye and walked over with a smile. "I’m going to talk to Jay," he said, "so I might be a bit late getting home." You nodded and gave him a hug. With a final wave, you stepped out into the cool evening air and just breathed it in for a second. You were ready to head home and felt you could sleep for a week. Maybe a month.

You made your way to your car, each step feeling like it took more effort than the last. Your feet dragged heavily on the pavement, scraping along the pavement as if you were being weighed down by something.

The cool evening air felt refreshing but it offered little comfort to you. As you approached your car, a shadowy figure started to form in the dim parking lot lights. Their posture was relaxed, hands shoved into their pockets, leaning casually against your car. You couldn’t quite make out who it was from a distance, but as you stepped closer the figure became clearer, and realization hit you. The familiar profile and stance matched Henry… Hank.

What is he doing here? Did something happen with Jay? No. Will would have told you. Wouldn’t he?

“Hey” he said as you reached the car, the simple greeting seeming out of place against the backdrop of everything you were feeling inside.

“Hey,” you squeaked out. You were feeling everything in the book, tiredness, sadness, nervousness you name it.

“How come you didn’t tell me you were Jay’s sister?” he asked, his head nodding slightly as he spoke, his brown eyes never leaving yours. If you weren’t so tired, those eyes and that voice would have your body begging for a repeat of last week.

You shrugged as much as your muscles would let you, “Probably the same reason you didn’t tell me you were his boss,” you retorted.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, looking for something you weren’t sure you had to give. You felt like your soul was laid bare and he was looking for a secret you didn’t even know you had.

But then the dam broke. You just couldn't hold it back any longer, and tears welled up in your eyes. Your voice cracked as you spoke, “I’m sorry,” The weight of everything—Hank, the exhaustion, your relationship with Jay, the teenage girl—finally spilled over.

“Hey,” he said, pulling his hands out of his pockets and reaching for you. He pulled you into his arms and surprisingly, you felt relaxed. Safe, He gently stroked your hair, his fingers combing through it soothingly, “Come on, I’ll take you home. You’re not driving while tired,” he said, grabbing your hand and leaving no room for arguments. Not that you had the energy to argue anyway.

You nodded and allowed Hank to lead you to his car. The doors clicked shut as you settled into the passenger seat. The steady hum of the engine filled the silence, and the city lights streaked past the windows, casting a soft glow inside the car. You glanced over at Hank a couple of times before turning to the passenger window, focusing on the passing objects. You bit your lip when you shot a glance at him. Why does he have to be so handsome?

If he wasn’t Jay’s boss, you’d definitely go for it. You wanted him. You scoffed shaking your head. You felt like Eve in the Garden of Eden and he was the apple. You wanted another taste.

The car slowed and came to a gentle stop in front of the building and your sadness reappeared. You were probably the only one here feeling this way. He’d probably gotten over it the second you walked out the district. You probably were just a one night stand to him.

“I’m not a one night kinda guy,” Hank spoke suddenly, breaking the silence. Your head snapped towards him, causing a slight jolt of whiplash.

“I’m not a one night kinda girl,” you replied, managing a small, sad smile. You glanced out the window, dreading what he might say next, “If you weren’t Jay’s boss then, I totally would,” you added, your voice trailing off.

Hank turned to face you fully, one eyebrow raised, “Would what?” he asked, you looked at him, rolling your eyes when you notice the smug smirk playing on his face, “I would too, but it wouldn’t be fair to you,” you scrunched your eyes at him. Fair to you? What did he mean? “I come with a lot of baggage and… I screwed up your relationship with your brother,” he continued, the smirk fading into something more serious. His eyes flicked down to the steering wheel before meeting yours again.

You shifted in your seat to get a better look at him, resting your head against the headrest, “I come with a lot of baggage too,” you sighed, your gaze dropping to the bracelet on your wrist—a gift from Jay when you got the job at Gaffney. You fiddled with it absentmindedly, “As for Jay… neither of us knew,”

His expression softened as he looked at you, “We do know now, and I can’t stop thinking about you,”

Your breath caught in your throat. His quiet words lingering in the small space of the car. His gaze remained locked on yours as the dim interior light cast soft shadows across his face. His hands rested on the steering wheel, fingers tapping lightly in an unconscious rhythm.

“I can’t stop thinking about you either but…”

“I know,” he nodded.

“Thank you, for the ride,” you said softly, leaning over to press a soft kiss to his cheek. Your lips brushed against his skin, lingering just a moment longer than you intended. You pulled back slowly, your eyes catching his, and the space between you seemed to close. You could feel the warmth from his breath, and before you could speak, he leaned in slightly. Your lips met in a brief, gentle kiss.

Without a word, you leaned back in, your hand reaching up to cup the back of his neck. This time, the kiss was not gentle. It was hungry, a desperate bid to consume each other. You felt the tension in your body coil tightly as your mouths moved together, and a soft moan escaped your throat. and it seemed to add fuel to the fire that had just been lit.

You got out the car, "Jay!" you called for him, "Please, let me explain," your voice was shaky. You didn't know where to start.

Jay's face was a thundercloud as he stomped over, his eyes flashing with anger. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he spat out.

“Jay, please, just hear me out,” you said, stepping closer to him. Your eyes pleaded with him as you reached out to him. Tears forming in your eyes, “I didn’t know, he didn’t either… but” you paused, looking over your shoulder at him, “I…” you wanted to tell him how you felt but you thought it would make little difference.

Jay’s expression hardened, and a bitter laugh escaped him. It certainly wasn’t a laugh of amusement, but one of disbelief, “You what? Huh? You going to say you love him or something?” His words were laced with sarcasm.

“No, but…” you began, your voice catching as you tried to gather your thoughts.

Jay’s eyes narrowed, “What? Come on. You wanted to talk about it. Let’s talk about it then.” His arms crossed over his chest waiting for you to elaborate.

You took a deep breath, finding the courage to continue. “Jay, I’m not saying I’m in love with him, but I could be. I haven’t felt this way about anyone in a long time. Not since...”

He cut you off, “Look how that turned out,” he said, his words heavy with accusation. “You divorced him because you found him in bed with someone else.”

The sting of his words hit you like a punch to the gut. You flinched but tried to maintain your composure despite the raw pain of the memory. But you failed.

“I haven’t felt this safe in a long time,” you croaked out, Jay opened his mouth to speak but you didn’t let him, “53…” you said, confusing everyone, “I had 53 foster homes, some nice, some… not. I also had a brother,”

“Had?” Will asked, his voice was soft and gentle.

“H-he died,” you said, your voice quivering as if each word burnt your tongue. “Protecting me.” You took a deep breath, you didn’t really expect to have to talk about this again. the only person who knew was Herrmann after some guy outside the bar wouldn’t take no for an answer, “Our foster father… wasn’t nice. H-he used to um… mainly when Liam wasn’t around,” you paused, risking a look to your brothers, they knew what you were hinting at, “One day, Liam came home early and… tried to stop him. I-I lost him, and now I lost you too,”

Jay’s face paled, the anger in his eyes faltering at your words. Will stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight, comforting embrace.

You buried your face in his shoulder, your breath hitching with each shuddering sob. Will held you, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. After a moment, Will pulled away slightly, gently wiping some stray tears from your now red cheeks.

Before you could fully process the moment, another pair of arms enveloped you. Jay pulled you into his embrace, “You will never lose me,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your hairline. You broke down again, this time in tears of happiness. Jay’s grip tightened, “All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be safe.”

As he pulled away, Jay glanced over your shoulder at Hank, who had been standing silently, observing the exchange. Jay’s eyes were fierce, the protective version resurfacing. “You hurt her,” Jay said, his voice was low, but steady, “I’ll kill you.”

“Wait… what?” you asked, completely caught off guard.

Jay sighed, his expression softening when he turned his attention back to you. “I don’t want to lose you either,” he started, a hint of vulnerability in his voice that he often hides behind his protectiveness. “You’re my sister. I just want you to be safe and happy, and I don’t ever want to see your heart break again,”

“You can’t protect me from everything, Jay," you replied softly, offering him a small smile, "But I know you'll try," you added, a light tease in your tone.

Jay chuckled lightly, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, it's in the job description,"

“Hey, (y/n), how about you go out tonight? You had a rough night,” Will said, you looked at him your eyebrows scrunching.

“You kicking me out?” you asked, a fake pout on your lips, Will rolled his eyes, “I don’t think so, Will, I just wanna rest,”

"We could watch a movie, at my place?" Hank suggested with a shrug. You smiled, cuddling on a sofa with him? You thought about it for a bit. That sounds so enticing and doesn’t require any effort.

You glanced over at Jay, seeking his approval with a silent plea and the cutest smile you could muster. Jay sighed as he looked between you and Hank. He rolled his eyes, "Okay, go," he said, waving you off.

You squealed in delight, bouncing on the balls of your feet. You quickly leaned over to kiss Jay’s cheek, leaving a faint lipstick mark on his skin

“Hey!” Will exclaimed, feigning offense as he crossed his arms over his chest. His eyebrows shot up in mock offence. You knew from the playful glint in his eyes that he wasn’t really offended but you played along anyway.

“Best twin brother ever,” you corrected with a playful grin, stepping over to Will. You leaned in and kissed his cheek as well, leaving another lipstick mark. Will chuckled, shaking his head. With a quick wave and a bright smile, you hurried back over to Hank’s car. The cool evening air nipped at your skin as you slipped into the passenger seat, the door closing with a soft thud.

As you settled into the passenger seat, Hank started the car, the engine purring softly to life. The glow from the dashboard lights cast a gentle blue hue over his face, highlighting his strong beautiful jawline. You looked out the window, watching the familiar streets of Chicago pass by, illuminated slightly by the dim streetlights.

It didn’t take long for Hank’s place to come into view. He pulled into the driveway, the gravel crunching under the tires. As you stepped out of the car, Hank extended his hand, you reached out and took it, feeling a comforting squeeze as your feet hit the pavement. Hank noticed your bag hanging off your shoulder, "Let me take that," he said, sliding the strap off your shoulder before you could protest. You smiled maybe you thought.

The two of you walked up the short path to his front door. Hank unlocked the door and held it open for you, stepping aside to let you in first out the cold.

Hank gestured towards the sofa, "Make yourself comfortable. I'll grab some drinks," He disappeared into the kitchen. You kicked off your shoes and curled up on the sofa, letting out a sigh as you feel the soft fabric against your skin.

A few moments later, Hank returned with some beers, you eyed the beer, “I don’t entertain much,” he spoke as he set them down on the coffee table and grabbed the remote, scrolling through the options. "Any preferences?" he asked, glancing over at you.

You shrugged, "Something light and funny?" you suggested. He nodded and picked a comedy, the kind that you could easily get lost in.

As the movie started, you found yourself leaning against him. The warmth of his body next to yours and the soothing sounds of laughter from the screen made you feel peaceful. You felt the tension of the day melting away.

Before long, the soft flicker of the TV and the warmth of his body lulled you into a state of peaceful drowsiness. Your eyes grew heavy, and despite your efforts to stay awake, you felt yourself drifting off. The last thing you remembered was the sound of Hank's low chuckle and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing beside you.

As you dozed off, Hank noticed and gently pulled a blanket over you. He watched you sleep for a moment, a soft smile on his face, before carefully picking you up. You stirred slightly, mumbling something incoherent, but didn't wake up. Hank carried you to the guest room, laying you gently on the bed. He turned to leave, but you reached out, grabbing his wrist.

"Stay," you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

Hank hesitated for a moment before he nodded. He slipped off his shoes, you could hear the faint sound of them hitting the floor before he carefully climbed into the guest bed beside you, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. The cool sheets rustled softly as he settled in. You instinctively rolled over, your body drawn to his like a magnet. Your head found its place on his chest, the soft fabric of his shirt comforting against your cheek.

You could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, each breath a gentle motion that seemed to sync with the beating of his heart. As you nestled closer, the comforting warmth of his body enveloped you once more.

His arm wrapped around you, as if shielding you from the outside world. His fingers brushed lightly against your back. The soft, repetitive sound of his heartbeat lulled you into a peaceful slumber, your breathing slowing to match his.

#female reader #reader insert #chicago pd #hank voight x reader #hank voight #halstead sister

172 notes · View notes

ssa-atlas-alvez · 3 months ago

Note

What about something to do with reader previously fighting back against/killing an abusive parent and a case comes up with the bau which brings it all to life..?

Hiya, hope this is okay! I didn't go into too many sad emotions lol, but hopefully this is okay :)

Description: reader gets dragged back to his hometome, but reunites with his younger brother.

Warnings: child abuse, abuse, murder, alcohol mentions, assault, previous arrests, custody battles, death of a parent

“This week’s case my fine furry friends, you are all heading to Oregon. The homeland of the one and only (Y/N).” Penelope said, pointing the bippy at you. You give a small smile, not having the heart to tell her you were hoping to keep that particular cat in the bag. “So this unsub is targeting unsavory individuals, first, this man. Robert Davis, 42, father of three. Total slime ball, an abusive drunk who is particularly fond of driving under the influence.”

You all looked at the photos now on the board. “Now, up next, same thing. Derek Harris. Father, this time 53, abusive, drinks on occasion.”

“Okay, so he’s got a type.”

“How long between victims?”

“Only four days.”

“How long does he keep them alive?”

“Only a few hours, before he dumps them on the door of their house.”

“He dumps the bodies at their house?” You asked, frowning.

“Why?”

“It’s like a gift.” You theorised, “I know what he was doing so I took revenge for you.”

“Some gift.” Prentiss said, turning back to the file.

Not long after, you were all on the jet on your way to Oregon. The briefing didn’t take long, just a few rough ideas exchanged and Morgan asking if you were excited to go home, you were not.

“Hotchner.” Hotch answered the phone before the end of the second ring. “You’re sure? Okay. We’ll make sure to send some agents there when we land. It’s alright, I’ll let him know. Thank you.” And with that, Hotch hung up again.

The air was a little tense, to say the least. “Another body turned up?” Rossi asked. Hotch just gave a nod.

“Already?” Reid’s eyebrows furrowed. You watched your boss closely for a few seconds.

“It’s him, isn’t it?” Is all you ask.

“Yes.” Is his response. “The ME just identified him.”

“Who found him?”

“(Y/N)…”

“Hotch, who found him?”

“Your brother.”

You sighed, looking away. “He okay?”

“He’s alright. Paramedics checked him over, he’s at the station waiting for us to land.”

You give a small nod. “He’s okay?”

“He’s okay.” Hotch said, voice a little more gentle now. The team watched you cautiously, all concerned.

“Who was the latest victim?” Reid asked, frowning slightly.

“Er, Lee (L/N).”

“(L/N)?” Morgan asked, turning to face you.

“My dad.” You gave a small nod.

“Which means we’re going to have to dive into your life,” Hotch explained, his face was his usual stern expression, but you could see the understanding in his eyes.

“I know.” You gave a small sigh. “I was arrested for assault when I was eighteen - I just broke his nose. No charges were pressed or anything.”

“What happened?” JJ asked.

“Er, I saw him hit my brother.” You gave a small nod. “And he didn’t press charges on the condition I moved out. So, I moved out. I tried fighting for custody but with that arrest, the courts weren’t having it.”

“They wouldn’t let you have custody?”

“Nope, not even with our medical records.” You gave an awkward shrug, “I tried multiple times, Declan ended up in the hospital once or twice. I lived in a small town, and everyone just… turned a blind eye to it.”

“That’s horrible…” JJ said. “They turned a blind eye? Just like that?”

“Yep. And then after the second custody battle and I was doing a food shop and I saw my dad hit Declan again. That time, I landed my dad in hospital.”

You were silent for the rest of the ride, preferring to sit inside your own head than interact with the outside world.

As soon as the jet landed, you, Spencer, and Hotch headed to the police station, the others dividing themselves between the different crime scenes. You follow the secretary’s vague motion to a room at the back of the station. It takes you thirty seconds after to realise she was in your grade in school. You purposefully ignored that and gave the door a light knock before opening the door.

“Declan…” You had prepared for the worst. You were expecting him to hate you, you had left the day you turned eighteen. Granted, it wasn’t exactly a voluntary leave, but you still left.

“(Y/N),” Declan looks up, smiling a little when he sees you. His eyes are bloodshot.

“Hey.” You said softly, "How are you feeling?"

Declan gives a small shrug and you give a quiet sigh, taking a seat next to him on the couch. "Come here," You said, opening your arms. He stares at you for a moment before letting himself lean against you.

You wait until you've both calmed down before speaking again. “We need to talk, kid…”

“I know.” Declan gave a small tight lipped smile. You sit down next to him, sighing slightly as you did. “They don’t think you’re involved, do they?”

“Nah, I’ve got an alibi I cleared with my boss.”

Declan nods, “Good. So I’m assuming your team know?”

“Yep.” You sighed, turning to face him. “Look, Declan-”

“You don’t need to apologise.”

“Yes, I do. I left.”

The teen rolled his eyes, “You’re actually thick. You didn’t leave, dad basically kicked you out.”

“I should have fought to stay.” You argued.

“Yeah, and he would have killed you.” He said. “Besides, I was fine.”

“Were you?”

“Yeah. Most of the time dad was too caught up in his drinking to care.” Declan gave a small shrug. “So… what’s going to happen to me?”

“Well, if you want, I’ve got a spare room that I could let you have. I suppose.” You said, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“Yeah, I guess. If I had too.” Declan grinned slightly.

“Sounds good.” You gave a nod, “We can sort everything else out later. And, if you want - since our house is sort of a crime scene, you can bunk in my hotel room.”

“Perfect, free hotel room.” Declan smirked.

“Yeah, yeah.” You rolled your eyes. “I gotta go talk to my team, you okay in here?”

“Yes, old man. I’m fine.”

You placed a hand on your chest dramatically as you left.

“Everything okay?” Hotch asked.

“Yeah. I think so.” You said, giving your boss a small smile. “As well as it can be right now, anyway.”

“He seems resilient.”

“He is.” You gave a small nod. “You don’t mind if I stay for a while after the case to sort everything up here out, do you?”

Hotch shook his head, “Not at all. Take all the time you need.”

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #criminal minds fanfiction #derek morgan #spencer reid #emily prentiss #david rossi #x male reader #male reader #bau x reader #bau x male reader #x reader #reader

177 notes · View notes

boop-le-snoot · 2 years ago

Text

masterlist

cherry pt. 1 🍒

gif by @taiturner

touch-starved!fem!reader x touch-starved, shy daryl dixon. this is pure tooth-rotting fluff with protective daryl, set somewhere in alexandria. the reader is a medic, this is a sweet build-up to smut which is going to be in part 2.

3.5k words, suitable for everyone. reader is referred to as "she", written in 3rd person, mostly daryl's pov, all lowercase. title from the lana song cherry because lana + norman = *author barks incoherently and descends into insanity*

her knee landed between his legs with a soft thud. the meat of his thigh surrounded by her legs as he sat under the yellow overhead lamp, daryl's chest rose and fell steadily, caramel skin marred by a deep red welt.

he stunk like bloody sweat, moist soil and gunpowder and lead.

"I'll inject a local," she mumbled, tapping on the glass vial before inserting the syringe and filling it up with a clear liquid, "you gonna need some twenty stitches, boyo."

"you dun' hafta," he, nonetheless, winced; the welt went across his chest, over his pectoral and almost to his collarbone. all and all, far from the worst he's had.

painkillers were a luxury, better spent on someone else, someone not like him. but he knew better than to argue with a medic (or someone filling the position of one, for that matter).

the woman's scent enveloped his senses in an opaque fog of sweet summer sweat over sharp, cheap laundry powder. something bitter, like rosemary and thyme, something sweet, like cherries and wine.

daryl's eyelashes fluttered as the needle pierced his skin: once, twice, five times, all around the jagged edges of the torn wound. the breath he was holding in left his mouth in a humid huff.

her hands, so gentle, prodded at the edges of his hurt until he could answer her question of 'feel anything?' negative, honestly. briefly, the acrid stench of rubbing alcohol overshadowed everything else as she sterilized everything, the tools and him, to the best of her ability.

he opened his eyes.

"now," she lifted her clever eyes, surveying the scene, "I'm gonna perch myself here," she moved that much closer, one knee between his legs, the other on the side of his leg; hovering over the same leg, facing his reclined torso, "you tell me if you're uncomfortable. that's the only light here, I don't mean to invade your personal space like that."

he could have laughed, if not for the risk of disrupting her careful stitching of his flesh.

"don'tcha worry 'bout it, pretty girl," his voice gravelly low, daryl did his best to stay still.

she chuckled softly, "bet you say that to anyone who can stitch you up in an even line."

"no," he scoffed, surprising himself, "jus' you. rick's hardly a pretty girl."

her hands stilled, eyes momentarily darting to his. the yellow light reflected in them, giving her pupils a red-hot gleam, as if devil himself had taken a sharp turn and went to seek refuge inside her instead of coming down to georgia.

he studied it, studied his own blurry, open-mouthed, panting reflection in the pupils of the woman currently perched atop his lap. then the realisation hit him, like a derailed runaway train, and he immediately withdrew to count the cracks in the ceiling.

she cleared her throat, resuming the rhythmical push and pull of the needle.

"didn't know rick could do that."

daryl attempted to shrug - stopping it before the motion reached his shoulders - and grunted instead.

she continued to stitch, the suddenly pregnant silence punctuated by the crinkling of a wrapper. an extra large, sterile bandaid was placed over the wound after she applied something green and foul-smelling atop the now-closed gash; his grunted query was met with a curt,

"antiseptic."

and he was let go with instructions to return the next day for a dressing change.

he lied to himself. he waited until it was dark to show up the next day, well into the summer night, just to be placed in the same position - under the lone hanging lamp, under her.

cherries and wine, rosemary and thyme, complimented by a trail of herbal tea. she smelled like peaches, too, this time. or, perhaps, it were the blooming trees outside her window that snuck their sweet aroma indoors.

"healing nicely," she remarked off-handedly, seemingly oblivious to the rising level of his tension and his inner turmoil. "the pain not too bad? you seem grumpy. grumpier than usual."

this time, he waited until she removed herself from his form to bark a terse laugh.

"no, pretty girl," he eyed her in the dusky, dusty room and received a crooked smile for his troubles, "long day 'is all."

"tell me about it," she huffed, shoulders sagging a bit more than he would have liked.

"who's the prick bothering ya?" he couldn't help it, his mind immediately went... places. surely, he wasn't the only one who noticed her pretty.

"no-one but my own damn brain," she scoffed, seemingly at herself, "and maybe the dick from number 17. it's like he's doing it on purpose."

"doin' what now?" daryl's voice dropped, his eyes squinted. his palm migrated to the handle of his knife, a gesture utterly subconscious.

"gettin' injured," she grumbled, no real heat behind her words, "got shot with a dart last week, sprained his ankle on a routine perimeter check today. how did that man serve 6 years in the army is beyond me."

daryl's head tilted as his chest tensed, heart thudded uncomfortably against his ribs.

"isn't carol taking care of all the broken bones?" he asked, tone laced with suspicion.

she turned to face him; he felt, more than saw, the annoyed roll of her eyes.

"he demands a real doctor," the woman shook off the wrapper before leaning back into him and placing it over his wound in one swift, irritated gesture, "how come nobody's told him I'm just a good faker? everyone knows by this point. all he does is waste resources-"

"woah, woah," daryl's voice rose briefly as he attempted to halt the incoming ramble. not that he didn't want to hear what she had to say, it was just unusual to see the quiet woman so... not herself.

"sorry," she shot immediately, looking away, "he just gives me the creeps. I know it's mean but-"

"no," daryl shook his head immediately, "if he's botherin' you, he's botherin' you and he needa back off."

she chuckled as she leaned back to observe the results of her work. her eyes were tired and a little ashamed. "say whatchu want but you southern fellas are real gentlemen," her smile was soft.

nobody has ever spoken to him like that, much less referred to him as a gentleman. through the momentary awe, daryl let the corners of his lips tilt up in a closed-lipped, shy smile.

he didn't return the next day, and the day after, having been deemed healthy enough by rick to be sent off to hunt some game - all activities classified as "takin' it easy" by the community leader. people needed food, growing kids needed the protein.

the gash on his chest bled a little, not much, and the scab that formed afterwards looked proper, thick and healthy.

as he reached the gates upon his return, he could make out some shouting just on the border of the little gated town. a few voices did their best to be heard, one right over the other.

"whazzat?" he quizzed the guard.

"lil doctor lady," the guard responded, frowning, squinting into the distance, "and big john, arguin' over something. dunno what. rick's there too."

daryl did not like the sound of that. he didn't like that at all. he dumped the three deer right there on the muddy ground as soon as he crossed the threshold of the safe zone, powerwalking towards the arguing trio.

"... 'm tellin' ya, rick, she's makin' shit up! I risk my life every day goin' out and patrollin', getting the damn supplies so she could patch me up like she's s'posed to!" big john, red in the face and fists clenched, stood looming over rick as he defended himself to the unimpressed sheriff, "'s'not like I broke my damn arm on purpose!"

immediately, daryl's bullshit meter went off as alarms blared in his head at full volume. big john's words were a little too loud, a little too passionate.

rick's eyes darted towards daryl's rapidly approaching form; that was all he needed to know about the situation.

"if that were true, you'd have no problem with carol attending to you, man," for the time being, rick successfully played the good cop.

"she's not even a real doctor!"

"neither am I!" the woman finally spoke up, shooting a glance at daryl, too, as her shoulders dropped slightly.

"hey, what's your fuckin' problem?" daryl finally stomped close enough for big john to jump at his words.

"none of your damn business," he shot back immediately, switching to stare down at the woman. it wasn't hard for him to make her shrink: his name was big john for a reason.

"don't bother tha nice lady," daryl scoffed, straightening up, "least you want a fuckin' knuckle sandwich. first and final warning."

"oh, fuck you man," big john turned to daryl, taking a step towards the archer, chest puffing out with the force of his rage. his left hand was in a makeshift cast; the right one rose, rapidly flying, aimed at daryl's face.

it didn't take the archer much effort to side-step the large man. he was immediately responding with a punch of his own.

big john staggered, taking a couple of unsteady steps back; within the next second, another punch connected with his face, sending blood and snot flying as he fell on the ground noisily.

"that's enough!" rick yelled, pulling on daryl's shoulder.

for the time being, the archer was content to let himself be steered away from the fight.

somewhere behind him, a feminine voice mumbled something less-than-polite, sighing, as she joined rick in pulling him away from big john.

"you stay away from her, dipshit!" daryl added hotly, "fuckin' weirdo."

"c'mon big guy," she cooed softly, nodding to rick as she steered him towards her house, "let's get you cleaned up."

he let her drag him indoors, towards the kitchen sink where the smell of herbs was the most potent. throughout the dirt and grime that always followed his hunts, it was a welcome respite. earthy and natural in the best, the most tender of ways.

the woman checked his knuckles, tugging on his big, meaty hand to place it under a stream of cold tap water; his skin was clear, once the grime and blood and dirt was washed off. a coupla punches was nothing, his knuckles too seasoned to sustain an injury from something as simple as a fistfight.

in broad daylight, there was no need for her to perch atop him to check the wound on his chest.

daryl swallowed, following her hands with his eyes. in her pristine, clean kitchen, he'd never felt more out of place as she moved aside the neck of his sweat-stained shirt and touched the soft skin of her fingertips to the scab, checking for infection.

the corners of her mouth finally, finally tilted up. an angry, upset expression had no place on her face; daryl could feel himself deflate as the cloud over the head of the little doctor lady finally, finally dissipated.

"you didn't even tear the stitches, I'm impressed," she complimented him softly, brushing the shirt collar back in place and smoothing it out with her palm, "they're dissolvable, luckily. go wash up and come back, I'll put some antibiotic ointment on it just in case. okay?"

her touch burned, but it was a sweet sort of fire. the kind that remained in his mouth after a particularly delicious batch of spicy wings, blooming as he took a deep breath.

he wanted to chase it with his tongue.

his nostrils flared as he exhaled.

"okay, dar?"

she had a nickname for him. she stared at him with those round, trusting eyes, not knowing that in truth, he was no better than big john.

daryl's cheeks flamed.

"okay," he mumbled, unable to refuse her anything when her eyes.., "dun look at me like dat."

"like what?" she frowned again and oh no, this was so much worse than the earnest concern written plain as day on her face just seconds ago.

his heart hammered in his chest. his fingers twitched. he swallowed the lump in his throat, shuffled his feet.

"cya," finally, his legs cooperated! he ran out of the house like the coward that he was.

he didn't come back as she'd requested. he couldn't. instead, he stubbornly stood under an ice cold stream of water, as long as could manage - and it did exactly nada for his racing thoughts or his traitorous body.

the soap carol had made smelled like herbs.

it smelled like the kitchen where tender fingers prodded at his skin, where soft hair briefly brushed his cheek, where the overhead lamp illuminated a halo around the head of the woman that found a home inside his head on most nights.

dusk fell over the settlement as a knock disturbed the miniscule amount of peace he'd managed to find for himself in the darkness of the basement.

"daryl?" rick's voice yelled, "I gotta favour to ask!"

he was there in an instant. "whassup?"

"the doctor lady. big john's bin runnin' his mouth since dinner, ion like it. I think he's gonna be up to no good."

what daryl liked about rick was his straightforwardness and common sense. such concern had place to be. daryl nodded, walking inside to put on a clean shirt and pick up his crossbow.

"I appreciate it," rick clapped him on the shoulder, "I'd stick around myself but judy is teething and michonne has been up for three nights already, m'afraid she's gonna..."

"no probl'm, rick, ah get it," daryl cut off the rambling man, "you go take care of your baby girl."

as daryl made way to the woman's house, his mind switched to defense mode effortlessly. he knew just the perfect spot to perch himself in, away from prying eyes and well within the observation range of the entries to her house. it wasn't the most comfortable of spots but summer nights were warm and the birdsong from the trees provided a childhood sort of comfort under the clear, dark skies.

as he prepared to settle in, the main door to her house cracked open.

she wore short, thin cotton shorts and a worn out t-shirt and nothing else, a steaming cup of tea clutched securely between her palms. her eyes immediately landed on his dark figure attempting to blend into the dusky underbrush.

"I thought you'd be a no-show," she remarked, a playful tone colouring her voice.

daryl had enough conscience to look sheepish. "uhh," he replied, eloquently, taking a hesitant step towards her house. the light breeze blew the hot fumes of her tea right into his nose, momentarily clouding his judgement. he barely could tear his eyes away from the soft, unblemished skin of her legs.

"c'mon," she waved him in, and he followed, obedient, quiet, like a puppy. she made a brief stop at the stove before pushing a cup into his hands, "I made some tea. not terribly sweet for you, I hope. you seem like a black coffee kinda guy."

the upbeat, companionable chatter sent daryl's head reeling. it's like she was completely oblivious to his clumsiness, to his bluntness, to the awkwardness that seemed to take deep root in his bones whenever he was in her presence.

he took a sip, a courtesy, as she made him sit in that recliner chair again, her body warm and comfortable above him. isn't that what you wanted, moron? his head screamed at him, the annoying voice eerily similar to his late brother's.

"it's okay to let me know you're uncomfortable," she spoke quietly as she moved aside the collar of his shirt once more.

he shivered, it's not like he could help himself. "wha?"

"not everyone likes to be... touched," she briefly looked up, then back again as she rubbed the salve around his scabs, sharp chemicals and plastic disturbing the peaceful aroma of her herbal tea, "my ma used to yell at me to, like... stop hugging random people. sometimes I forget that not everyone is perfectly fine with jus' bein' groped."

"hmm," he managed, struggling not to sound like all of his christmases just had arrived at once. she wanted to touch him. well, not just him-

"these days, I'm not particularly keen on that either, but eventually, the touch starvation catches up to me. I'm just glad that, like, carol and rosita don't freak out or anything, when I play octopus with 'em."

"it's... okay," he had to drink to clear his throat, inhale to clear his mind. "ion mind, pretty girl," daryl tried for a smile and was sure it came more like a grimace. he desperately needed practice in that department.

she chuckled, a dulcet little noise, before her eyes shot up to his. whatever she was looking for, she found it; her hands, done with healing his external wounds, stroked slowly over his shoulders, mapping the broad, muscular expanse of them in one fluid motion. the tips of his hair tickled the tops of her palms.

with only a thin cotton barrier separating daryl's skin from hers, it was as close to heaven as he will ever allowed to be. the cup in his hand scalded his rough palms, hot ceramic burning through the callouses: it was like an afterthought of pain and nothing more.

her fingers connected behind his neck, the pads rubbing over the tense muscle there. the groan left his mouth unnoticed by him, until he could feel the smile on her face bloom just like the flowers outside her window.

"you like that?"

"mmm," he managed, weakly. something inside of him was crumbling. maybe it was the tea that had filled his veins with melted sugar and liquified the strong resolve to not let someone like her be tainted by someone like him.

she kept on kneading his neck and shoulders, like a damn cat working graveyard shift at the biscuit cookie factory.

daryl's deep inhale moved his whole body.

she staggered, brief and sweet, tilting heavily into him to keep up her balance and stop herself from falling over. graceful, she was not.

he was met with a parted mouth, so sweet and red and plump, like ripe cherries; right over his nose, just out of reach, sinful and tantalising in it's own right. the pink, moist meat of her tongue was tucked into the corner of it as her eyes narrowed, something between relief and concentration.

seeing him look, the mouth stretched into a smile, making it that much sweeter. she was looking at him, again, like- like that.

her hands faltered, she swayed in place; daryl's instincts got the better of him and he secured her, one hand holding her body by the hip to steady the sudden bout of clumsiness.

"m'sorry, imma klutz," she looked away sheepishly.

he squeezed her hip on response, letting her know it was okay. and it really was more than that: much to his wide-eyed wonder. he felt like he was the one who should be doing the apologizing. but not only did she not shake off his hand, oh no, she leaned further into him, her belly almost touching his bent forearm.

it took a gargantuan amount of effort just to not pull her in all the way. she was most inviting to touch, all soft curves courtesy of semi-regular meals and tender skin despite the blazing summer sun.

daryl's thumb moved up and down the cotton of her shorts absent-mindedly. the sweet little sighs falling from her lips were hard to miss. almost as if it was someone else pushing her into his arms, a well-meaning ghost perhaps; she tilted in on herself to soak up the warmth of his large, hot body.

a trail of goosebumps ran across his scalp, starting from the place she was rubbing gentle circles into it - at the back of his head, where his hairline met his nape. if he was capable of purring, he would.

instead, he groaned again, eyelashes fluttering, casting a moving shadow on his sharp cheeks. his reward was an equally-content sounding sigh as it drafted into his nose, warm and earthy.

the empty cup thudded against the table where he placed it.

her fingers parted his hair gingerly, taking great care to avoid potential tangles. some finer, smaller hairs still pulled, taking some of his self-deprecation and resolve with 'em as the motion traversed his body in a jolt and settled somewhere deep inside the pit of his belly.

this was getting dangerous.

daryl opened his eyes and stared up.

#daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fluff #daryl x you #daryl x y/n #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #twd fanfiction #daryl is so puppydog #i wanna pet him

1K notes · View notes

jadeluz-official · 17 days ago

Text

I know a lot of theories around BJ2 have revolved around dreams, but I want to throw out my own theory:

Doctor Glickman is the real antagonist of BJ2.

In the beginning we see Lydia take pills. Those are benzodiazepines but they're more commonly known as benzos. They are depressants that produce feelings of sedation and hypnosis. These medications are tightly regulated and can only be prescribed by a doctor. They have dangerous effects when misused such as amnesia, irritability, and vivid or disturbing dreams:

<Note: In real life, only a psychiatrist can prescribe those medications. Benzodiazepines is a schedule IV drug of the Controlled Substances Act. However, since no psychiatrist was mentioned - I am presuming the film intends it to be Glickman who prescribed these pills. >

The dosage on this substance is kept to an absolute minimum for its adverse effects. We see Lydia cool down after digesting the substance until Rory tosses them in the waste bin. However, we see Lydia take 2 during the bathroom scene when her bottle is labeled "Take 1 tablet per day." She's reliant on the sedative properties and we can't trust from there if what we're seeing is reality or not. Rory as well, who takes the pills with her despite not needing it.

Further along the story, there's three lines related to Glickman and how he behaved as Lydia's therapist. We know Astrid encountered Glickman at least once and wasn't fond of him. Not once do we see Rory mention any reflective homework like Glickman assigned to Lydia, but we see Rory constantly lying and refusing to acknowledge Lydia's concerns and desires (such as a small wedding, warning about Beetlejuice, you get the idea.)

At least... not until Beetlejuice shows up. He's mocking Doctor Glickman during his therapy scene, but this time he directly attacks Rory. He takes his time to torture Rory in this scene to the point of Rory passing out. Since Beetlejuice doesn't need to be on screen to be aware of the events of the film, he was watching it all, Rory's manipulation, the therapist directly telling Lydia she needed to better herself, Lydia slowly driving herself to madness with her pills and so forth. And in this scene Beetlejuice mentions he was willing to do work and better himself for Lydia, which is something Rory has never done:

Lydia's response to this:

Well then, where am I going with this?

Lydia starts to realize the effects of her medication are causing "hallucinations" of Beetlejuice. Unaware of everything around her plausibly being her imagination or dream, and the film gets more psychoactive as it progresses, it's not until Lydia wakes up at the end with Beetlejuice until the effects of these pills wear off.

After being injected with the truth serum, Rory admits he was only in it for the money. Therapy and certain medications have been known to be incredibly expensive in the United States. As long as Lydia was sedated and her hallucinations allieviated, Rory took advantage of how vulnerable Lydia was on the medication, even if it foiled episodes of Ghost House at times.

And to give him a taste of his own medicine, Beetlejuice injects Rory with the truth serum knowing Lydia was being taken advantage of when she consumed her pills. It's his idea of sweet revenge. Also mentioning how Rory still refuses to work on himself, unlike how Glickman did:

If Rory had successfully gotten away with their marriage, he could have more access to benzodiazepines and other prescription drugs from Doctor Glickman to keep Lydia under surveillance and exploit her for money. He admitted exploiting weak and vulnerable women, and Lydia being a depressed and anxiety-ridden mess meant she was the jackpot for Rory. And one could presume, Glickman would get a nice paycheck each time he provided those drugs to Rory.

So yeah, Rory was poisoning Lydia slowly. Glickman was providing her these drugs with intensive sedative and delirium effects. No wonder why BJ intervened. He stopped Lydia from making his same mistake.

Say what you want about Beetlebabes, but all I can say after watching this movie 5 times already is that Beetlejuice really does love Lydia. Every single time I rewatch it, I find more reasons about how he loves her so much:

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice spoilers #beetlejuice beetlejuice #beetlejuice 2 #beetlejuice 2024 #lydia deetz #beetlejuice movie #betelgeuse #beetlegeuse #beetlejuice the movie #beetlejuice theory #beetlejuice rory #astrid deetz #this took so long #i hope its cohesive #I've been writing all day with school work

147 notes · View notes

can-i-see-your-passport-please · 1 year ago

Text

Okay so here's everything I know about TF2. Please no one elaborate on anything I know about, because I think it's so much funnier if I have no context to anything. I have absorbed all of this through Tumblr osmosis

Emesis Blue is an excellent film

Soldier apparently was never an actual soldier, he just loves America and really wanted to kill Nazis (the second one i respect greatly)

Medic would probably give you a lobotomy for fun (i don't think this guy's even a doctor)

Two really old guys are fighting bloody wars over gravel I think and their father is named Grey Mann which was most definitely meant to make Gman enjoyers lose it but to be fair his name could also be Gary Man.

What am I on

Heavy and Medic are apparently gay but idk if this is a fandom seeing two men next to each other and going "gay" thing or a "all but confirmed gay" thing but TVTropes referred to them as "Heterosexual Life Partners" which is very funny

emesis blue is so fucking good oh my godddddd the respawn machine is horrifying just from the concept it turned scout into soup

Scout is half French and loves his mother (who is not french) and does not love his father (spy i think)

Medic presumably died went to hell and told the devil "oh I'm like a cat I have nine souls actually. So I should get to go back to being alive" and it fucking worked??????

THE FUCKING SCENE IN?? IN EMESIS BLUE??? WHERE. WHERE SOLDIER TELLS MEDIC "YOU'RE GONNA MAKE IT OUT" AND MEDIC SAYS "i KNOW" BEFORE HE JUST FUCKING DIES AND HE'S THE PROTAGONIST SO YOU'D EXPECT HIM TO LIVE RIGHT??? AND THEN HE JUST DIES AND DOESN'T APPEAR AGAIN FOR SO SO LONG

Pyro is an any pronouns warrior and it commits great atrocities while also having so much sillyness in his heart. I love her

I think Engineer blowed up his arm. I think

Spy is a cunt and also French. I do not think this I know this. I look at him and I sense his cuntery. It radiates off him. I can feel it.

SOMETHING ABOUT THE LETTER M BEING BRANDED ONTO MEDIC'S FACE BEING A REFERENCE TO THE MOVIE SCOUT WAS WATCHING WHERE THE LETTER M IS USED TO MARK A MURDERER. HE'S LITERALLY MARKED AS A MURDERER BY PYRO. SOMETHING ABOUT THE SCENE WITH DEMOMAN AND DELL'S BAR BEING A REFERENCE TO A SCENE IN THE SHINING WHERE THE MAIN CHARACTER IS LITERALLY TALKING TO A GHOST. SOMETHING ABOUT SCOUT'S MOTHER'S HEAD BEING HELD AROUND A CORNER AND DROPPED PARALLELING PYRO'S HEAD BEING HELD AROUND A CORNER AND DROPPED. SOMETHING ABOUT SCOUT'S "IF THEY EVER HIT YOU WITH SOMETHING, YOU HIT BACK TWICE AS HARD" WITH MEDIC SHOOTING SPY TWICE IN THE HEAD AFTER BEING SHOT ONCE IN THE GAME OF RUSSIAN ROULETTE WHY IS EMESIS BLUE SO GOOD

TF2 is in an eternal war with Overwatch for some reason

I was doing a poll a few days ago and the tags psychic blasted me with the information of "by the way people pay like fifty dollars to see medic's tiddies in game." I have gotten varying answers between ninety dollars to three hundred fucking dollars but the constant remains that people will pay Valve comically high amounts of money to see Medic's boobs. What

Scout almost got Earth exploded because he died a virgin???? But then God was like "Okay go back down to earth I'm giving them one last chance to all have sex with you" I'm so confused what does any of this mean none of this makes any sense but it's hilarious

Scout might be legitimately named after Jerma and bears a frightening resemblance to him (though to be fair scout is every white boy in one)

You should watch Emesis Blue it's free on youtube

Demoman's eye is sentient even though he doesn't have it????

I can't decide who's my favorite the white boy the unethical scientist or the silly nonbiney war criminal

Conclusion: What the fuck is team fortress the second one about

#cassie rambles #please don't tell me what it's about it's so much funnier if i am confused forever #tf2 #emesis blue

478 notes · View notes

hellfire--cult · 1 year ago

Text

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader x Steve Harrington {Dark}

Read the first part here.

wc: 19.2 k

⚠️ +18 MDNI, Slightly dark fic due to wickedness of characters, primal play, mentions of bones breaking, teeth falling, tendons splitting, dark woods, blood, murdering insinuation, thoughts about killing, explicit sexual scenes, many forms of Paraphilia described inside the story in which none of them are dark or disgusting, owning kink, breeding kink, obsession, pegging, threesome, reader is a sadomasochist, Mafia!Eddie Munson

Plot: Once a year, the Haunting Ground event takes place, where the prize is a White Rabbit. This year, after so much planning, the Black Bunny from the Black Dragon mob makes an appearance to take her precious White Rabbit home.

Author's note: You asked for it, you got it. This is the first threesome I ever wrote in my life so please be kind, if you do not like threesomes do not read, and no, reader isn't the masochistic one here.

A huge thank you to the love of my life, @ghost-proofbaby for beta reading this, and taking time of her day for it, and correcting so many things in it. I wasn't confident enough this time to simply post this, so she helped me alot, I LOVE U BBY.

SEE STEVE'S OUTFIT HERE IN THIS AMAZING COMMISION @pach-inks DID FOR ME

You can always support me by hitting the reblog button with tags, and I always enjoy reading your comments!

Run, Rabbit, Run

The rules are simple:

1- You must keep running, only hide when threatened.

2- You can hurt your opponent, make them unable to keep moving, but you cannot kill them.

3- No water and no food will be provided.

4- No weapons except makeshift ones you may create with natural materials you find.

5- The chase ends once everyone has tapped out of it or one person was chosen.

6- Medical care will take out injured opponents, as well as waiting outside every exit in the woods.

—--------------------------------------------

The ballroom looks exactly like that last time she saw it, but the perspective now is very different.

She always was at the top of the stairs, looking down at every single person that was willing to participate, to chase after her, to grab her, make her theirs. Pathetic. If only they knew her. If only they wanted her like he does. If only they cared for her like he does. If only they were half of the person he was.

Eddie.

She giggles at the thought, heads turning to look at her quizzically, only to then gasp as they take a good look, because the tattoo that now lingers on her right arm was enough for them to know who she was. It was enough for everyone in the room to start whispering, to start feeling a chill going down their spine at the mere thought of being in the woods with her. It was enough to make many start to doubt their participation in this year’s Haunting Ground.

She looked all over, seeing a deer’s head, a plain white face on some, black lace masks, a dog’s leather mask… She snickered when she saw Carver looking at her, his nose completely out of place, not having healed properly. He has balls to be back, she’ll give him that, but she will knock his teeth out today if he dares come between her and this year’s White Rabbit.

She hummed as she walked to the center of the ballroom, a black dress falling on her body, tight in the upper part while it flowed loosely on the bottom, the length of it only going mid thigh, not reaching her knees. Some black sport shorts cover her underneath, but her feet were completely bare. But the one thing that she was showing off, moving her head side to side, catching everyone’s eyes, gulps being heard all around, was the mask on her face.

A black bunny.

The mask showed her lips, starting from the cheeks and going up to cover the rest of her face. Long black ears went upwards, and she couldn’t help the smile that came to her lips as she rocked back and forth on the heels of her feet, extending her arms towards her back, and holding her hands together for her tattoo to be seen. A Black Dragon. The distinctive mark that shows she belonged to the Boss of the Black Dragon mob.

And now, everything made sense, everything clicked in everyone’s minds right now. She was going to win, no matter what happens tonight, nobody has the slightest chance. Nobody knew if they should quit immediately, give her the prize on a silver platter, but of course, there were many, mostly men, that wanted revenge. Revenge for wasting their time for three years. Revenge from being hurt and pained for trying to get her. Revenge because they don’t want him to win again. But she was there for a reason.

Because if she was playing, Munson’s Black Bunny, it means that they both wanted the prize.

She bit the inside of her cheek as she looked at the top of the stairs. She was waiting. She was already watering at the mouth at the thought of seeing that precious boy. That amazing pretty boy that was covered in freckles, in spots that she wants her tongue to trace. She wants that beautiful face to be covered in sweat, his neck and body full of bruises from the kisses that she wants to give him, mark him, and of course, share him. Oh, how she wants him to be wrecked by him as well.

She trembles with the thought as her body flushes in anticipation, in the adrenaline, not noticing she was smiling almost maniacally towards the top of the stairs, making everyone eye her up and down once more. She can hardly wait to run her hands through those brown locks, grab onto his scalp, move his head around in any way she pleases… And boy did he sound eager about it as well. She knew about this man, she has known him for a couple of years now, and always found him so pretty, so cute, so angelic looking.

Oh how blind everyone was.

She knew who he really was. She knew he was like her, she knew he was as filthy and evil as her, and she knew Eddie would love him. Eddie will be so happy with him as well. Time can’t pass fast enough, because she has been hypnotized by those honey eyes ever since she met him to know he was the next man to be presented to her as a possible fiancé. The man just looked disgusted as his father talked with hers, but the only thing she could look at was the expanse of his neck, the freckles going down and down into the open collar of his shirt.

And he was looking at her as well. There was a quick connection, a quick understanding, as a small grin spread on their lips and they were told to go and get to know each other in a private room. And oh man, was he cute. He responded so well when she whispered to him, and he would flinch at the slight touch of her fingertips, a blush on his cheeks appearing as she told him that she had no intention of marrying him, but that she would love to own him. That had sent a shiver down his spine, and when he bit his lip, she knew he was the next one to get.

Even after she was caught herself, she could only imagine the moments she could spend with him, while Eddie might not be available to do so, and the moments where she could share this sun kissed man with her Demon. She really needed time to go faster because she waited for a whole year for this chase. Cryptic messages were sent to him, to prepare for this trial, and he knew perfectly well what it was, and now knowing that she was going to be a Chaser was the only thing that impulsed him to sign up as the White Rabbit.

Speaking of which,

“Welcome to this year’s Haunting Ground!” Unlike last year, there were fewer cheers this time, and she looked all over to see that many people had left the ballroom, a smile creeping on her lips because of how much fear she provokes in people. That was almost making her feel… excited.

“Black Bunny, huh.” A woman talks next to her, and she turns around to see her wearing a simple lace eye mask, giving away who she was immediately. The daughter of Tom Holloway, and while he might look like the simple CEO for the New York’s Post, he was also working with the government and some mobs to not let out some news into the light, and covering them with something else that is not as grave, or critical.

“Holloway.” Heather gives a snicker as she turns to look at her.

“How’s life now that you are someone’s pet?” That made the Black Bunny laugh, giggle, shake her head as if Heather just told the funniest joke in her life, but the other woman was simply looking at her as if she were going insane. Seconds later, her laughter slowly came down, and she leaned her face into Heather’s space.

“I’m far from that Holloway. But since you’re asking, it’s been very… fulfilling.” Heather sends the Black Bunny a disgusted look on her face as she takes a step away but it only elicits a giggle on the Bunny’s part.

“Why are you participating? You got what you wanted, so why not leave this opportunity for someone else?” Heather says and that made something in the Black Bunny snap. How fucking dare she? Why does she fucking think she has a chance? Why does she think that her precious White Rabbit would want her? Or anyone else for that matter? And that’s when the Black Bunny decided something. Something that made her face twist in a way that the baby hairs on Heather’s nape stood on edge at, and she felt her blood going cold as the Black Bunny kept staring at her.

The Black Bunny was not going to let Heather Holloway walk away unscathed.

Heather Holloway was not even going to be able to walk.

“The rules being said, always remember the small device to call for assistance if injured or if you are trapped or simply want to tap out of the chase.” The Black Bunny’s attention immediately went back towards the stage, her eyes sparkling as she waited, taking a deep breath in as a single spotlight shone at the top of the stairs. “Here is this year’s White Rabbit.”

And a shiver went down her spine as many gasps could be heard through the room. The beauty emanating from this man was inexplicable. She didn’t know what to expect, but she could already feel her wetness sipping through her underwear just at the sight of his body, of his hair that spilled from the mask, from the white rabbit mask that filled just half of his face, and his white ears going upwards.

But oh, what he was wearing. The man was standing, bare feet, with some Arabic Harem see through pants, all flowy in white tulle, hugging his ankles tightly as well as his hips, and the pants had an open slit on the sides of his them, showing off his skin and also, you could see the outline of his underwear, a thong?

No, a jockstrap. But that wasn’t what caught most people's attention. It was the white tight corset with silver embroidery and pearls that hugged his waist, showing his curves, and it stopped just underneath his pecs, showing his clean shaved chest to the crowd. Coming from the sides, at the top edges of the corset, were two silver straps, going over his shoulders, tightly, and the same see through fabric went all the way down his arms flowing, until they reached the tightness of silver elastic bands onto his wrists.

The man was absolutely beautiful. And he was all hers.

“Oh, what a beauty…” A man on her other side said, his silver horse mask shining with the lights, but she couldn’t find it in herself to feel angry at the man, because he wasn’t saying it in a lustful way, he was truly saying how beautiful he was. He was mesmerizing to the eye, and she knew everyone was no longer second guessing if they should indeed participate in the trial. At first many were doubtful because it was her, and there is a big chance that whoever gets in her way will get hurt… But now, seeing this man at the top of the stairs like this, doubt is very present in the room.

Her eyes scanned him, scanned his face, his lips, his eyes that could be seen through the mask’s eye holes.

Everything about him was just so perfect.

He was such a treasure, so shiny in her eyes that she can hardly believe that at the end of the night she will be able to smear the lip gloss that’s on his lips, make him drool all over himself, make his spent spread on the sheets, maybe her mouth if she wants a taste.

The freckles were giving him away, people whispering about why he was participating in such a trial, and even more so, be the prize of it. But the answer to all of that should be pretty easy, it should be of common sense knowing the Black Bunny was in the room as one of the hunters. Two and two were adding up in everyone’s minds, and a small smile was painted on her face all the while as she looked up at her ray of sunshine, dressed all in white.

“Remember, injuring a contestant to the point of death is immediate disqualification and authorities will be called in the spot.” For some reason, the host was looking at her, pointedly, and she could only grin at him, giving a shake of her head. The man looked at the White Rabbit once again before saying, “Run, Rabbit, Run.”

The lights went off for a few seconds and when they were on again, the White Rabbit was gone. Everyone clapped except for her, eager to start the hunt, and some eager to walk out of it before they were severely injured. The host started guiding everyone out towards the edges of the woods and the Black Bunny was whistling as she walked outside, looking at the all too familiar woods ahead of her. She smiled as she saw the familiar rock to the side, the oak tree that was crooked slightly to the left.

She knew these woods like the back of her hand.

She stood next to Heather Holloway, and on her other side was the man that called her White Rabbit a beauty. Unlike Eddie, she wasn’t going to just stand there and take them out. She was going to go for another tactic, one that will make everyone afraid of going in, and she knew it was going to work because people were already looking at her, peeking over the line to watch her every move.

From the corner of her eye, she saw the balcony, seeing the host walking out of it and looking at all the contestants. He gave her one last look, a glance, a warning. What a pain in the ass. She wasn’t going to kill anyone, and if she did, it was surely going to be after this hunt. His arm raised up, gun in hand, and her eyes settled once again towards the woods, a smile appearing on her lips as the adrenaline pumped in her veins. He was so close, so close, and he was hers.

BANG.

A shriek of laughter came out of her lips as she started skipping into the woods and everyone else stood still in horror. She was way too carefree in this. Too confident in herself. Chills ran down everyone’s spine, afraid of going into the woods now because she could be anywhere. She could be behind a tree, on a tree, behind a rock, under it, just plainly anywhere. A few people took a step back from the edge, and slowly started retreating back into the ballroom.

Heather Holloway was not one of those people, amongst others that believed the Black Bunny to be too cocky. Just because she was in the Black Dragon mob, and she was Eddie Munson’s favorite didn’t mean anything. They could still outrun her. Unlike the other times, in which the rules protected her from their attacks, they could hurt her now. But there was also another thing that made people stay in their place. Even if she were cocky, and even if they dared to hurt her, what awaits after doing that was much worse.

They could be subject of Eddie Munson’s torture.

It would be wise to back out. It would be even wiser to just give the White Rabbit to her, but only five people dared to get into the woods, out of the thirty one that were there. These five people that ventured inside were sick and done with the Black Dragon mob. Be it because their businesses failed because of them, or someone was killed by them. If they have to hurt the Black Bunny to get to him, to get him back at all, then so be it.

A man in an owl mask went right, rushing towards the woods as he jumped over boulders, fallen trunks, and his breathing was already heavy. He was scared, really scared, but he recognized who the White Rabbit was. The Emporium this man belonged to was a force to be reckoned with, the wealth the family possesses is immense, and the fact that he can blackmail them with their son was something that he was craving. The millions that could await him from running just a tiny bit, and getting his hands on him.

And poor man, he really was delusional. His face got immediately smashed as two feet collided into it, breaking his nose and front teeth, falling backwards from the impact, dizziness invading his brain as he coughed his teeth out onto the ground, along with his spit. He looked up and the last thing he saw was The Black Bunny, giggling at him as she dangled from a branch. She had waited for him, sitting on that branch, to run by and swing down to strike him at full force.

She really didn’t intend for him to pass out, only break his teeth maybe, but she might have overdone it. She dropped from the branch with an ‘oof’ sound and she hummed, walking towards the unconscious man and getting the alarm out of his pocket. At least she was nice enough to press the button for assistance. Her head raised up when she heard grunting, somewhere in the woods, but the only female that was in the hunt with her as well, was silent. She knew the other men were going to take eachother out, and having Heather Holloway to herself made her grin wickedly.

She dropped the alarm on top of the man. Maybe she will send him a sorry note later on. Maybe. She turned on her heels and started running again, measuring her breath evenly, and that’s when she saw two men sprawled on the floor as one stood victorious with a branch in his hand. He was breathing heavily and as he turned around, she was in full view of him. It was the man that called her White Rabbit a beauty, but she made no move to go at him.

“I was just after these two.” He says to her and she looks down to see their faces. They were almost smashed in, and gurgles of blood could be heard from their mouths. She looked up at him again.

“They will call the authorities on you. Don’t kill them.” The Black Bunny says softly to the man that was wearing a horse mask. He gave her a small chuckle and shook his head. She knew he wasn’t going to comply with that request. This man’s daughter was kidnapped and killed in front of him by the sons of the White Elephant mob, just out of spite because he had rejected loaning them money from his own company.

“Holloway went left.” She gave him a final nod, and looked down at the men that were reaching for the assistance button. She walked towards them and snatched each of those devices, the men writhing in despair as they tried to ask for mercy. The Black Bunny threw them across the field and turned to leave the man to do his last business.

She immediately went left, running back into the woods and then heading north. If she goes diagonally, she will encounter her. The Black Bunny stopped running suddenly as she spotted a small rock on the side, and it was sharp. Very sharp. A smile creeped on her face as she got hold of it in her hand and looked all over it. It wasn’t that big, but it was long, almost like a dagger.

Heather Holloway was tired of running. There were no signs of the White Rabbit nor the Black Bunny. She was starting to become frustrated, because at least she wanted to try and give some piece of her mind to the cocky Munson slut. She stopped running and started walking now, trying to catch her breath as she kept her senses in complete alert. She wasn’t going to give up, no matter how silent everything was. She needed to keep moving, but her sense of direction was completely lost, and that made her nervous.

She heard a twig snap, making her turn around, only to find nothing out of the ordinary. Her heart was beating into her chest as she kept walking, fear setting in slowly because everything was just quiet, way too quiet. So she stopped, and tried to sharpen her sense of hearing, trying to listen to the sound of the trees, to the twigs on the floor if they snapped even if a little bit. But there was nothing,absolutely nothing… Until she heard a rustle from underneath a bush that was right next to her.

“I found you~”

The scream that Heather got out of her throat was out of a horror movie. Blood painted the soil red as she fell backwards, pain shooting up her legs as tears started welling up in her eyes. The Black Bunny got out from the bushes with the sharp stone in hand, tainted with the other woman’s blood, a grin on her face from ear to ear. She had cut both of her achilles tendons, just slicing over them completely.

“WHAT THE FUCK–” Heather yelled as she tried to move her feet but she couldn’t even think anymore, the pain being too unbearable, and her writhing on the floor made the Black Bunny roll her eyes at her as she crouched down to look at her face stained from tears and dirt.

“You’re a drama queen.”

“You’re a crazy fucking bitch!” Heather’s breath was cut off as the sharp end of the rock came in contact with her cheek, and when she looked up, fear trickled all over her body, a cold sweat engulfing her as she saw the most evil eyes, wicked, as they looked at her with widely, threateningly, simply horrifyingly.

“This is what you get for participating, and having the nerve to think that you deserve him.” Heather could only muster a whimpering sound as her tears ran down her face, knowing the damage the Black Bunny had caused, knowing the consequences of her future, but she couldn’t do anything about it. Not anymore. She was breathing heavily as the pain was blurring her vision, consciousness slowly slipping away and The Black Bunny took pity on her, but it was only because she didn't want to be disqualified. She bent down to go into Heather’s pants front pocket, taking the alarm out and pressing on it.

She looked at Heather as she finally slipped off into unconsciousness. Eddie was going to be so mad at her for this, causing more damage than she should have, but can he blame her? He was very honest with her when he had done the chase himself and how he wanted to kill anyone in his path for her. She scoffed as she looked down at Heather’s feet, knowing they wouldn't be of use any longer, a smirk coming to her face as she ventured into the woods once again, just walking, knowing she was the only one in the game now.

“Run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run, don’t give the farmer his fun, fun, fun~” She hummed as she walked by many trees, the corner of her eye seeing the small ‘x’ signs marked on the bark of them, making her smile as she kept a soft tune coming out of her lips. She could basically taste him already, every passing tree letting her know she was slowly reaching him, slowly getting to him.

Once she finally passed the final tree marked with an X, she found a clearing. And there, in the middle of it, the moonlight shone down on his body, his face, his mask as the White Rabbit stood with a smile on his lips. There were no stains, no dirt, no blood on his body, so it meant he didn’t have to run that much because no one actually got near to him. She salivated at how gorgeous he looked under the night’s light, and all she wanted was to mess him up, to ruin him.

“It didn’t take that long.” The White Rabbit says with a soft tone, but she noticed a certain want behind it, a certain desperation, impatient. She chuckled as she took a step forward towards him, her dress moving around as she walked and his gaze followed her silhouette, brown eyes shining at her form.

“Nobody dares to go against me. You should know this.” He gave her a low ‘hm’ in agreement and she was slowly closing the distance, the tension palpable in the air as she took each step. She waited for this for a whole year, planning it with Eddie, making everything go into plan without anyone noticing, without anyone suspecting it. The White Rabbit has the same longing in his face, ready to meet his destiny, his future. And it was a decision that he had made, not one done by his father.

“I do know this, that’s why I trusted you so much with it.” He says in a loving tone, dreamily as the Black Bunny reaches him, just inches away from his body as her body flushed, heat going all over her body at his words. He was so perfect, such a romantic for someone like himself.

“Are you going to run from me?” She asks, biting her bottom lip. He gives her a grin with a shake of his head.

“Never from you.” His hands reached up towards his mask, and she held her breath in, containing a gasp at the anticipation of seeing him without it. She was shivering almost, trembling with need, wanting the seconds to go by quicker, but it didn’t matter because the only thing they now had was plenty of time. His fingers touched the bottom of his mask and he finally tugged it upwards, taking it off and throwing it to the side. She sighed at the beauty in front of her. A literal diamond, and he was all hers.

“Steve Harrington… You’re so beautiful.” She saw his face flush, cheeks tinted red as her hand reached up to cup one of them, her thumb rubbing a particular freckle there. Steve raised one of his hands up, pressing it onto the hand that was on his cheek, leaning into the warmth of it. He sighed of relief at her touch, finally having what he had wanted for so long. Ever since he met her almost two years ago, he knew he wanted her to own him, in whichever way possible. So when he heard her bachelors have been going missing, or killed, he wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t scared, but he was excited to be considered one of them.

Sadness enveloped him when he found out that she had participated in the Haunting Ground behind her father’s back, and was caught by none other than Eddie Munson, the Mafia Boss of the Black Dragon mob. There was no chance for Steve, no way to ever have her the way he wanted to, no way for her to own him the way he wanted to. But he didn’t have to wait for long, because when he received a letter from ‘His father’, he knew it wasn’t actually from him. He knew it was from someone else, and when he saw the plan on paper with a Black Dragon signature at the bottom, he knew.

“Can I see you?” He asks and she gives him a sweet smile unlike what she truly is But he deserved it. He deserved that sight of her. Even if she wanted to ruin him, make a mess out of his mind and soul, she also wanted to care for him like she would a puppy. She let go of his cheek, making his hand drop to his side as she reached towards her mask, pulling it off her face and throwing it away just like he did with his.

You.

“Happy now Stevie?” You smirked up at him and he could only look down at you in pure adoration, in bliss, as if you weren’t really there, as if you were just a figment of his imagination. A small giggle escaped your lips as you looked at him, his brown honey eyes scanning all over you, and your eyes did the same on his body, a hand reaching up to rub against the top of the corset. “This looks so good on you…”

His breathing hitched at that, and you could only grin up at him because like Eddie did with you, and like you did to him, you had studied Steve. You knew what he liked, you knew what he went crazy over, and he was very obvious in those letters that were exchanged of what he desired. You saw his whole body turning red as the jockstrap under his pants became tighter, and you could only salivate at seeing the bulge that was growing bigger each second that passed.

Transvestism:

Sexual arousal from cross-dressing of the opposite gender.

“Yeah?” Steve’s face was flushed and you noticed the lipgloss on his lips even more now, a very faint hint of red as you could see some eyeliner, very thin, behind his eyelashes that had some mascara on them. It made his eyes pop out even more. Your hand slid up towards his shoulder, pulling him closer to you and your other hand came to rest on his cheek again, making him smile at you. You were just drooling at this point, wetness pooling between your legs.

“Yeah… Did you follow instructions?” You asked him as his hands came to rest on your hips, pulling you flush against him and you wanted to moan at the feel of his hardness against your lower belly.

“Feel for yourself.” Steve says in a low tone. Even if he has these feminine attributes, he is still a man, and he is letting you know by his voice, making the heat even more unbearable than before. Your hand left his cheek to glide down his chest, one of your fingertips grazing over a specific freckle that was driving you mad. But your hand kept going its way, touching his waist to then go to his back and lower - that’s when you felt it. Something fluffy, something that you couldn’t help but squish and press forward, a moan escaping his lips instantly and you trembled at the sound.

“Such a good boy…” You say this time as you grip the bunny tail even harder and you start doing small circles with it, pressing it into his body, making his hands grip tighter on your hips as groans are stuck in his throat. He had followed your instructions carefully before the trial. Cleaned himself thoroughly and then started preparing the stretch. He had to rip a hole in his pants to do so because the jockstrap already gave him the opening he needed to follow your orders.

He was wearing a buttplug, and you were already making him see stars with it.

“Do you think Eddie will like me too?” He asks and your eyes sparkle with delight as you let go of his tail buttplug to fully wrap your arms around his shoulders, looking up at him, heart beating loudly into your chest from the excitement.

“Oh, he already loves you baby… As much as I do.” He couldn’t help but smile in delight at your words, melting into your arms as his own wrap around your waist, hands splayed on your back. “You have to say the words Stevie… For how long do you want this?”

His eyes looked for yours, and even in the heat of the moment, even in the situation you were both in and how you got here, the resolution for you two was the same. There is no way you would go back to your past lives. You would be owned, but not caged. It was a very different type of situation than what you both have been through your entire lives, and just like you did, he couldn’t wait to be set free from it all.

“For as long as it lasts.” You let a sigh of relief escape your lips as your face inched closer to his. Steve couldn’t wait for his lipgloss to be smudged by you, so he leaned towards you as well, lips already parting for you. You couldn’t help but take in his scent. Sweet, hints of mint and caramel, and it was just so him. Just like you imagined he would smell like, not at all the person you met two years ago who was wearing a tight black suit with a bitter cologne on.

Your lips slot against his and you two let out a moan at the same time, swallowing it and cherishing them in the depths of your minds. One of your hands finds its way on the back of his neck, running up into his scalp, into those brown locks that he so carefully takes care of. You can taste the strawberry gloss on your tongue as your lips move against his in a soft dance, unlike what you plan to do to him.

And just like Eddie did to you that time, you bite onto Steve’s bottom lip, sharp, and he lets out another moan into your mouth as you feel that copper taste fill your tongue. You pull away from him to look at your work of art as the gloss he was wearing is replaced by your spit mixed with the small bit of blood that came out of his lip. He was almost panting over you and you couldn’t wait to knock the breath right out of his lungs.

A firework was shot in the sky to signal the end of the Haunting Ground. You couldn’t help but smile and run your tongue on Steve’s bottom lip to clean some of the blood off. He was finally yours. The wait was over.

“Ready to go home pretty boy?”

Steve’s heart was in his throat as he stood inside the elevator that was going upwards towards his new home. His things were already delivered as he made sure all of his belongings were sent as well as gave his signature on the contract that established that you took full responsibility for him now. He gave his loyalty, soul, mind and body towards the Black Dragon mob.

He had reapplied the lip gloss that you had smudged previously, and he was still wearing the same attire as he did in the hunt. He was hoping Eddie would like it too, because it wasn’t just you Steve was craving. After he found out you were taken by Eddie Munson, his mind wandered to the fantasy of how you two would act intimately. Was he in control? Were you in control? Did you change it up? For some reason, Steve feels like he was the last piece of the puzzle.

The elevator finally dinged and its doors opened, revealing double dark ones right in front of him. He walked towards them, grabbing onto one of the handles and pulling it down to finally open the door, taking in the environment all around him. It was modern, yet for some reason it felt like a home. It didn’t feel bland at all. He walked in and then closed the door behind him, the dimmed warm lights filled the living room as he took some steps into his new house, into his new life.

“Stevie, baby…” You call him out as you walk down the stairs, having changed into something that knocked Steve’s air right out of his lungs. You had changed into a black latex tube dress that ended at, almost, your inner thighs, barely covering your ass at all. It had cups on the chest, making your breasts more prominent than before, and he was drooling at the sight as the echoing of your heels made him tremble at each step. You finally reached the bottom of the stairs and he now noticed the heavy black makeup on your eyes, the red gloss that was on your lips - he was guessing that everything was planned.

“You look so beautiful.” Steve says to you, making your face flush completely at his words, wetness pooling in your inner thighs and you could already feel it sticking onto your dress as well, because of course, you had to have easy access, so no underwear was always a must in this house. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, pushing your body against his as his hands came to run all over your hips, pulling you closer for his bulge to once again press against you.

“You’re one to talk Steve, god, you’re so pretty…” You leaned up as you pulled his head down towards your face. He thought you were going to kiss him, but instead your mouth moved to the side, going towards his ear. A low breath escaped your lips as you softly whispered to him, a shiver going from the back of his neck, towards the tip of his toes as his heart beat loudly at your words. “And you’re mine.”

Steve was at a loss of words as his cheeks turned into a bright shade of red, feeling heat invade all of his body inside and out. You giggled at his reaction as his bulge twitched against your body. You pulled away from his ear, your arms still wrapped around his shoulders. He really wanted to kiss you now, but he will always obey your orders. Unless you told him he had free will on his advances, he will let you make all the first moves, but he can express his feelings.

“I want to kiss you…” You hummed at his words, a happy sigh escaping your lips as one of your hands came back to the front to press against his cheek. The fingertip of your thumb caressed, very gently, against his glossy bottom lip, trying to not smudge it away.

“I would love to… But I want him to see you in this too…” And that’s when Steve felt himself freeze. He felt him. He felt his presence as if he were a ghost, an entity, but it was just the power that radiated from his body. He slowly looked up over your shoulder to look towards the open door that led to the dark kitchen. His breathing stopped completely as his eyes adjusted to the darkness of it and there, leaning against the door frame was your owner.

Eddie Munson took a step into the dim light with a small smirk on his lips.

Steve’s heart stopped at the sight before him. Eddie was shirtless, his tattoos showing off all over his torso and arms and he wondered if the back was as inked as the front. His hair was tight into a low ponytail as he took another step towards the two of you. He had black pants on with a leather belt around the hip to keep them in place, bare feet hitting onto the floor below him. You turned around to face him with a smile to your face, your arms not leaving Steve’s shoulders.

“Bunny.” Eddie called out to you and you were almost bouncing in your place as you kept your eyes on him but Eddie’s eyes were still locked with Steve's, who was still frozen in place.

“Look how pretty he got for us Eddie…” You hummed out and Eddie finally stood next to the both of you, and he almost lost control as your eyes and Steve’s looked at him, wide with stars of expectation behind them. Eddie gave you just one look and your arms left Steve’s shoulders. He almost whined at the loss as he gave you one look, his head turning from Eddie only for it to be turned back as a big ringed hand held onto his chin that made Steve’s legs almost tremble as honey eyes clashed into deep brown ones again.

“You were right Bunny… He is very pretty.” Eddie took a step closer to Steve whose face was red from want already. His eyes hazing over with desire, and Eddie could see it. He could see how Steve’s eyelids were becoming heavier as he looked at him. His thumb caressed right below Steve’s bottom lip that made his breathing hitch, a small gasp being heard from him, making Eddie smile victoriously. “I like this on you.”

Steve felt almost overwhelmed already because you two were just invading his space completely. He felt like his breathing was cutting short, feeling as if the walls in the house were getting smaller on him but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling at all. First, he got to taste you. Now, he wants to have a taste of the man that is in front of him. He finally understood perfectly why you had decided to stay with him.

“And he followed our orders.” You mention as you walk behind Steve, pressing your lower belly against the bunny tail, pushing it forward and making Steve’s cheeks heat up as a moan escapes his lips. It makes him take a step forward towards Eddie, his chest colliding with his. Eddie’s hands catch Steve’s biceps to hold him up as he smirks over his shoulder and towards you who was already grinning at him.

“I think he deserves a reward.” He looked down at the hazy honey eyes again, immediately leaning down with no warning and pressing his lips against Steve’s, getting a surprised gasp from the man followed by a moan as you pressed onto the bunny tail again. Eddie smirked as his eyes stayed half lidded, open just enough to see Steve’s reactions, making the hardness in his pants twitch against Steve’s. He took the opportunity of his moan where he opened his mouth slightly to press his tongue into his mouth, as his hands pressed against his waist, pulling him closer.

Steve felt like he was on fire, and you two were already defiling him, front and back. You were moving the buttplug, rutting into him in small circles, but it was enough for his spongy spot to be rubbed just slightly. He was moaning onto Eddie’s tongue as it almost went to the back of his throat, and how godly Eddie tasted. It was a mixture of cigarettes and whiskey, maybe a hint of an afternoon coffee he must have drank waiting for your hunt to be over.

You trailed your lips towards the freckles that were splayed on Steve’s back, your eyes like stars as you slowly started kissing each one as if they were constellations, making Steve shiver as his hands snaked up towards Eddie’s shoulders, finally letting himself go and be guided by his own desire. He wrapped his arms around him, making Eddie chuckle into his mouth at the gesture. Steve definitely was more romantic than you were, and now he understands what you meant when you said you wanted to ruin him.

Because now he wants to do the same.

“I’m feeling a little left out…” At your voice the two men pulled away, a string of saliva left behind as Eddie looked over Steve’s shoulder to see you pouting. He knew he was going to see a new side of you tonight, a side that you couldn’t be with him because he wouldn’t allow it and you didn’t complain, but you were very much excited about owning Harrington. You couldn’t help but get giddy at the prospect of all the stuff you wanted to try on him, and Eddie was more than happy to help you choose the best things.

“Oh, we can’t have that. Kiss her Harrington.” Steve immediately takes his arms off Eddie’s shoulders, face completely reddened by the intrusive kiss as he turns around to look at you again. You beam at him as if he were holding the stars for you right now, his hands coming to wrap around your waist, pulling you into him, your hands landing on his shoulders as he leans down and immediately presses his lips against yours.

You were smirking against the kiss as you felt Eddie’s hands come in between the both of you and Steve’s breath hitched into your mouth as he felt calloused hands, ringed fingers rubbing onto his chest. Your hands went now to cradle Steve’s face, pulling him deeper into you, forcing your tongue into his mouth as he let a moan escape his lips. Eddie smirked behind him, and his fingers rubbed onto one of Steve’s nipples, hardening the bud there as he could feel Steve pressing his ass against his bulge, the buttplug pressing deeper into him.

“He’s such a slut.” You say. You had pulled away from the kiss the moment you felt an even deeper moan coming from Steve and you wanted to see what Eddie was doing to him.

“I agree.” Eddie suddenly pinches Steve’s hard nipples, and the brown haired boy’s eyes widened with a gasp at the sensation, his whole body on fire as he throws his head back onto Eddie’s shoulder.

“God–” Steve moans out as another roll of Eddie’s fingers press onto one of his nipples. His jaw was suddenly grabbed roughly, making him look at you. His face flushed a deep red as you were almost glaring at him.

“There’s no god here. Only us.” At your display of dominance, Eddie couldn’t help but feel his dick twitch in his pants, pressing himself harder against Steve. He wasn’t into it if it was done to him, but seeing you doing it to someone else… He finds it too erotic. Steve moans your name, making you smile lovingly at him again.

“And what about me?” Eddie asks Steve as he pinches onto his nipple even harder this time, making Steve hiss.

“Eddie!” It came out as a whine, and you felt Steve’s bulge pressing onto your lower belly. You could feel your wetness falling down your inner thighs as you kept looking at him. Your eyes darted back towards Eddie who had a smirk on his face as Steve was turning into a puddle in between you both.

“Bunny, let’s stop playing.” You giggled in delight as you ripped yourself away from Steve, making the boy whine at the loss of your warm body against his, and then he couldn’t even finish the thought that he was turned around to face Eddie again. Steve’s eyes widened when Eddie bent down slightly to wrap his arm around the back of Steve’s thighs.

“What are you–” And just like that, Steve was lifted up into the air with ease, as if he were a feather despite the fact that he knew he was probably at the same weight as Eddie was. But the long haired man was stronger than he thought as he dangled over Eddie’s shoulder and arm. Eddie was holding him with his arm, pressing against the back of his thighs still so Steve wouldn’t fall. You looked at Steve’s face and you couldn’t help but smile wickedly as you saw the fucked out face that was on display for you. You knew Eddie shirtless was going to rile him up, but making Eddie show him just how strong he was… You knew he was going to go insane.

Sthenolagnia:

Sexual arousal to muscles and, or, displays of strength.

“Aw Eddie, he already looks like he is going to cum.” You said with a teasing tone as Eddie started going up the stairs and Steve only let out a small whine at your words. He really did look fucked out, and he was getting off just from Eddie’s strength. Suddenly, Steve jerked forward in Eddie’s hold, as he chokes out a moan in surprise, a loud smack vibrating through the home. His left ass cheek was stinging now from Eddie slapping him there.

“We have a long night ahead of us.” Eddie said and you giggled behind them as he finally reached the top of the stairs without even needing to catch his breath. It made Steve’s dick twitch to not hear a single pant, heavy breathing of some sort, nothing. Proof that Eddie was very strong.

Steve’s eyes locked with yours as you followed Eddie through the hallways of the home. Your hand raised up to caress Steve’s cheek and you could feel the heat radiating from his skin, and you could swear you heard a small whimper get caught in his throat from your touch. Eddie opened the door to his room, and immediately placed Steve back on his own two feet. He took the opportunity of closeness to place a small kiss on Steve’s right shoulder.

Steve gasped slightly at Eddie’s action and then locked eyes with him. Eddie’s gaze shifted towards the room and Steve decided to finally turn around to take it all in, his eyes widening. An Alaskan king bed was in the middle of the room, black comforters all over, a tall ceiling that had wide windows on the side, black curtains draping over them. His eyes roamed all over to find two doors, one for the walk in closet, and the other for the main bathroom. Candles were over many small tables and dressers that decorated the big room, and he could see the guitars displayed on the wall.Steve’s heart melted a little bit to see that it wasn’t just an empty basic room.

He took a step inside to look at one dresser in particular to find, surprisingly, some art supplies. He smiled when he realized that there’s also a trace of yourself in this room. This wasn’t just a temporary home at all, this was yours and Eddie’s home. This wasn’t just a hollow vessel to keep him locked up. This was his freedom, and he cannot wait to put a piece of him inside of it as well. He felt a kiss on one of his shoulders and he looked to his right to find you smiling up at him.

“Welcome home Stevie…” You said in a sultry tone to him, making his eyes glint towards you, lust clouding his mind again, pushing the soft feelings aside until a later time. He almost jumped when he felt another pair of lips kissing his left shoulder this time, his head turning to see Eddie smirking at him. His lips then dove towards the crook of Steve’s neck and shoulder, making him groan at the feeling. You smiled at your partner’s actions, and you moved more towards his front to then lean towards his collarbone, placing kisses all over it, making Steve let a sigh of bliss out of his lips.

Eddie smirked as his tongue started licking along Steve’s pulsepoint and one of his hands went towards one of Steve’s ass cheeks, gripping it tightly, making the brown haired boy gasp through his strangled moans, not wanting them out just yet. Your tongue traced from one freckle to the other, freckles that covered his chest, small ones, big ones, you were obsessed with them. You gasped onto Steve’s skin when you felt Eddie’s hand on your own ass as well.

Steve suddenly yelped, making Eddie’s head get off the crook of his neck to look down at what you were doing, a smirk appearing on his lips. Your tongue was licking over one of Steve’s nipples in an apologetic manner, and Eddie could only guess that you had bit him. But Eddie could still see the grin that was on your face, a grin he never saw before but he was pretty sure that it was the same one he had whenever he fucked you how he liked.

“You like it when I hurt you, don’t you Stevie? I can feel your dick twitching against me.” You said to him, and Steve only nodded dumbly, looking down towards you with hope in his eyes and you could only smile as your eyes almost widened at how excited you were. You waited one year to finally show your other side, and you were going to not waste a single second of it.

Your mouth latched onto his other nipple, giving it a few kitten lips, and then you finally let your teeth sink into the flesh of the nub, biting harshly on him as Steve threw his head back with widened eyes as a moan escaped his throat, the grin widening on your lips at the sound.

Eddie chuckled at how dominant you were, but he felt a little bit left out from the action, so his hand lifted up from your ass to land a loud smack against the tightness of your ass, and you let out a strangled moan, letting go of Steve’s nipple to let it fall from your lips. Steve’s head looked down at you and he was surprised to see your eyes half lidded, almost teary. And that’s when Steve understood it, a grin spreading on his lips as he locked eyes with Eddie’s.

SadoMasochism:

Sexual Arousal on causing pain as well as receiving.

Eddie’s hand ran towards your scalp and he suddenly gripped your hair to rip you away from Steve harshly, making you whimper at the pain, a gasp escaping your lips as you tumbled back towards Eddie’s chest. He leaned down towards your ear to give you a small bite on your earlobe and Steve’s face flushed as he watched you both.

“Now Bunny… How about we take off that pretty dress you’re wearing?” You nodded rapidly at your partner’s orders, not only because he was your master, your owner, even if it were just that. But because he didn’t see you as only a possession, as ‘something’ to control. You both liked the play of it and it seemed Steve liked it too.

Eddie immediately started working on the zipper that was on your back, pulling it all the way down slowly as Steve waited patiently from where he stood in front of you, his hands to himself. Eddie could only smirk as he felt your shiver when his hands started gliding all over your back, and then towards your shoulders, underneath the straps of your dress, to then slide them off as he moved his hands on your arms.

Steve’s breathing stopped as the dress started falling off from your body, Eddie helping to pull it down from how tight it was. Steve could only look at your breasts, noticing some bruises here and there, making him gulp. His dick jumped up at the thought of Eddie roughly devouring you, and all he wanted now was for you to do the same to him. He wanted you to mark his chest, his arms, his neck, his ass, everywhere. Steve needed your mark on him, desperately.

Within a few seconds, you were bare in front of both men, heels coming off as well. You shivered at the cold of the AC hitting against your nipples, hardening them immediately. You stepped away from your dress for Eddie to kick it away. His hands suddenly wrapped around your waist, moving towards your front, making your breathing hitch slightly, and one of his hands moved to your breast, while the other started traveling south.

You sighed a moan out of your mouth when his fingers pinched your nipple, making your body twitch at the feeling. Eddie chuckled against your ear, his other hand reaching your folds. He couldn’t contain his chuckle when he felt just how drenched you were - it was smeared all over your inner thighs, and you moaned when he ran two of his fingers through your slit, reaching your clit. He harshly pressed his digits against your nub, making you whimper this time at the pain and the pleasure of it.

“Eddie…” You moaned out his name and Steve wanted to reach his hands towards you, but he knew better than to do that when Eddie was in the room. You were still his after all, and everything Steve could do to you was only allowed if Eddie said so.

“Now here is what’s going to happen. We are going to lay down…” As he said this, he guided you backwards and your eyes were still locked on Steve, a wicked grin appearing on your lips as you were manhandled onto the bed, being thrown in the middle of it by Eddie. You landed with a small ‘oof’ sound as you bounced on the mattress, turning to look towards your partner. Eddie’s eyes turned towards Steve, a smirk appearing on his lips. “And you will show me how good you are Harrington…”

“What–”

“Fuck her.”

Steve’s eyes immediately widened, not fully processing what Eddie was asking of him. Your eyes sparkled with anticipation as you moved to rest on your elbows to be able to look towards Steve. You wanted to laugh at how baffled he looked, the poor guy probably wasn’t coming with the expectation of fucking you, but rather getting fucked. You raised your legs, bending your knees to then spread yourself for him, and Steve’s gaze quickly shifted to the wetness between your legs.

“C’mon Steve… I’m waiting.” You moved one hand towards your cunt, using your index and middle finger to form a V-Shape, separating your lips to show yourself to him.

Steve’s dick bobbed in his jockstrap, and his mind was already fuzzy with the idea of being inside of you, so his hands reached backwards, and there was a small button on his pants, right above where the bunny tail was, securing the hole he had made on them. He popped it open for his pants to fall to the floor immediately, pressing against the fabric with one foot to pop one out of the elastics, doing the same with the other.

Eddie’s eyes looked all over him, mouth watering as he scanned his body, reaching towards the elastic of the jockstrap, making Steve gasp at the touch. Eddie smirked at the reaction, pulling at the elastic and then let it snap harshly onto the man’s skin, making him whine with a moan at the pain. Steve took the sign and proceeded to take the jockstrap off, having a hard time bending down because of the corset, so he had to crouch to completely take it off.

Steve stood up and your eyes scanned the length of his dick, eyes widening when you saw that the rumors of Steve Harrington being big were true. You licked your bottom lip as you salivated with the need to taste him, but that can wait for another time. Steve’s hands went to his corset but Eddie was quick to grab onto his wrist, making Steve snap his head towards him with widened eyes.

“Keep that on.” He almost growled and Steve trembled at the dominance of the man, precum already leaking from the pink tip of his dick. He gave Eddie a nod and took a step towards your impatient figure only to be stopped again. “Do not finish inside of her. That’s something only I can do until I say otherwise.”

At that, Steve couldn’t help but give Eddie a wicked grin, surprising the long haired man.

“Will you finish inside of me as well?” Steve purred and Eddie wanted to laugh at how delighted he was. This man was starving for you, and now he wanted him as well.

“Only if she lets me.” And that made Steve remember that he is yours, not Eddie’s, turning his focus back to you. You had a smirk on your face as your fingers were rubbing small circles on your clit as you looked at the two men. All their small talk, acting as if you were not in the room, only spiraled you more into the lust that built inside your chest.

Steve walked towards the edge of the bed, his knees hitting the soft mattress as he crawled between your legs. He licked his lips as he looked down at your wet cunt, and he couldn’t help himself as he leaned his head down, wanting to taste even if just a little bit, only for his hair to be grabbed roughly. He yelped as he was pulled upwards, his back clashing against a chest. Eddie had crawled on bed right behind Steve when he saw the man was about to dive into your cunt, something he had not ordered Steve to do.

“I said fuck her, not eat her out.” Eddie said in his ear, in a growl almost, as he pressed his lips against it. At Eddie’s command, you whipped your head to glare at him over Steve’s shoulder, surprising him as you groaned in displeasure at him. He let go of Steve’s hair, squinting at you as you were defying him for the first time.

“He is mine.” Steve’s body burned at your words and how protective you were being of him. Eddie cannot command everything for Steve, and he has to be respectful to your wishes, but Steve can only guess the punishment that awaits you later for it, and that was making him even harder than before.

“And you are mine.” Eddie growled back at you and you felt a cold shiver run down your spine at the intensity of his eyes. Your hand left your clit instantly, knowing that without his permission you weren’t allowed to touch yourself, your dominance going back and forth, switching on and off depending on the man that talked to you.

Steve choked on his saliva when he felt a hand engulfing his cock, and he looked down to see Eddie’s tattooed knuckles, slowly, and just barely, moving back and forth on him. Your mouth watered at the scene in front of you, making your legs spread even wider and as you whined, your hips started thrusting upwards in short little jumps, telling the men that they were leaving you aside again. Steve gazed down at you before his eyes moved to look at Eddie.

“Eddie, I want to– Can I?” Eddie smirked at the politeness that Steve has with him, and he pressed his other hand on Steve’s shoulder blade, pushing him forward and the brown haired man got the hint. He crawled two more steps towards your raised hips, and Eddie helped him to line his cock in the slit of your entrance. Steve moaned when he felt the tip dampen with your slick, and you whimpered with the need of more.

“C’mon big boy, show me what you got. Fuck her like you mean it.” And just like that, Steve’s control snapped at the order, his hands flying to grip onto each side of your waist, making you smile, your upper body hitting the mattress to let Steve hold your hips up. He looked truly beautiful, and you couldn’t help but clench on nothing when you saw both men looking down at you, one dressed in white, the other covered in dark tattoos with black pants.

They were the complete opposites.

Your head fell back as your eyes widened at the stretch. Steve had started pushing forward into you, his nails digging into your skin, his eyes clenched tightly at the feeling. You were tight. How could your pussy be this tight? It was unreal, and Steve’s mind was completely foggy now. He didn’t know what was real and what was not, and the further he sank in, the more he started coming back down to the real world.

“Fuck–” Steve moaned out and Eddie smirked as he looked at how the two of you were slowly being connected. He had to admit that Steve’s dick was big, and by the look of your expression you were completely loving the feeling of him. Eddie encouraged Steve to move faster by grabbing the bunny tail, the buttplug, and pushing it forward, making Steve’s eyes snap open as a loud moan escaped his lips from the sensation of both of his ends being stimulated.

You couldn’t help but chuckle in disbelief how good he was feeling. It was worth the wait, it was definitely worth the wait. Steve kept moving forward thanks to Eddie’s help and he snapped his hips into you, bottoming out and the two of you let out a loud moan as Steve held onto you. Eddie’s hand left Steve’s bunny tail and the latter man let out a sigh of relief, but also of discontent.

“Move Harrington.” Steve nodded at that, moving his hips backwards, not even letting you have a moment to adjust because that’s just how you liked it. You liked the pain of the stretch. You liked the shift from pain to pleasure. Steve snapped back into you, quick, surprising you as you felt him hit at the very deep of your gut, the slight pain that came with it.

“Holy shit!” You couldn’t help but curse at the feeling of someone else inside of you, someone else other than your partner, and it feels as if you were finally complete. Steve was something you needed, the piece that was missing between you and Eddie.

“Does he feel good, baby?” Eddie purred from behind Steve, looking at you over the other man’s shoulder as he saw how he kept moving back and forth, hips snapping against yours, your breasts bouncing in rhythm at the quick pace. You nodded dumbly as your eyes stared towards the ceiling in a hazy state, fluttering as moans slipped out of your lips.

“Fuck, yes, yes– He feels so good, you feel so good Stevie–” You choked on a moan as Steve slowed his pace to pull all the way out, only to slam himself back in in a quick and deep thrust. He moaned loudly, throwing his head back onto Eddie’s shoulder. He couldn’t believe that Eddie got you like this almost every night for a year already and he can’t wait for himself to experience it as well.

Eddie could only lick his lips as he saw Steve’s dick disappear inside of you, only to reappear again and then repeat that cycle. Your body was bouncing against the movement, and he smirked down at you as your eyes locked with his. His own dick twitched in his pants;he would only be able to hold back for a few more minutes, and he was surprised by Steve’s movements. He did in fact tell him to fuck you like he meant it, and he was doing exactly that.

“And you, Steve? Does she feel good?” Eddie whispered in his ear, to then kiss just below it and then follow down towards his neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind, making Steve moan as he nodded, his thrusts not once faltering in movement even if his mind was being overstimulated by the two of you. He was loving Eddie’s attention, but even more the fact that he was watching him fuck you. His dick twitched inside of you as he felt Eddie’s eyes once more on the place that connected you to Steve.

Voyeurism:

Sexual arousal from watching others while naked or having sex, or being watched.

“She feels good, she feels perfect–” You were staring at both men, moans leaving your mouth as the slapping of skin was heard all around the room, the wetness of your cunt making obscene sounds as well that only made you become even filthier. Your legs were already cramping, helping you to keep your hips up. Eddie chuckled against Steve’s neck, and he couldn’t help but latch his mouth to start sucking on his skin.

“No.” You sharply said in between your teeth, almost in a hiss through your groans. You felt Steve halt on his movements, slowing down so you could talk and Eddie let go of Steve’s neck as he stared down at you. “Do not mark him.”

“My bad, Bunny.” He was going to respect the ownership status. He was the only one that could mark you, and you were the only one that could mark Steve. His attention was back on Steve with a smirk on his face. “Now I’m curious about how you feel, how you clench, how you tighten around my dick…”

“W-Wha–?” He couldn’t even finish his answer when he felt Eddie’s hand grip the bunny tail again, but this time he pushed forward and then backwards, just slightly, not letting the buttplug come out yet, but it was enough to make it have a small thrusting motion. A choked moan slipped out of Steve’s lips as his thrusts stopped completely. Eddie growled and he raised his hand to slap Steve’s thigh harshly, ordering him to keep moving. Steve groaned in a whimper as he started following Eddie’s movement on his buttplug and your eyes widened at Steve’s expression.

He looked wrecked.

You wanted to see more of it, you needed to see more of that face, and you wanted the tears to roll down of his cheeks, to become so overstimulated that he cannot help but scream for mercy. You clenched around Steve and his eyes widened as he felt the burning on his belly beginning to form. It was happening way too quickly for his own liking and he shook his head, trying to move back from you.

“I– I’m sorry, I’m so close–” And you couldn’t help but smile lovingly because Steve had followed instructions. You commanded him to not touch himself for a month, and you knew that was a challenge but now you knew he followed the instructions because of how fast he was already close to cumming.

You immediately put your upper body back down on the mattress, making Steve slip out of you. He whimpered at the loss of your heat and you sighed of relief as your hips and legs relaxed again. Eddie took this chance for his other arm to wrap around Steve’s front, over his clavicle, Eddie’s hand grasping onto Steve’s opposite shoulder, pressing him tightly against his chest. Eddie’s movements never stopped on Steve’s backplug, making the man whimper and his hands made their way towards Eddie’s forearm for support.

“Such a good boy for us Steve.” Eddie said in an alluring tone against Steve’s ear, who was moaning at the feeling of his prostate being rubbed on. His dick was bobbing up and down, the increasing sensation of release creeping closer and closer. You quickly moved now, turning to lay down on your stomach, raising your upper body up and coming face to face with Steve’s dick.

“Want to taste you my sweet boy…” You were grinning as you stuck your tongue out to give Steve a kitten lick at the red leaking tip and Steve almost jerked forward at the sensation. Eddie’s hand that was on his shoulder moved to grip tightly on Steve’s jaw, turning his head to face him. Eddie’s lips clashed against the other man’s as you smirked up towards them, opening your mouth to take Steve into your mouth, your tongue licking all over the head of his dick as Eddie kept pressing onto Steve’s buttplug.

Steve was a moaning mess, his hips bucking back and forth onto the slickness of your tongue and onto the friction of his buttplug. His mouth was invaded by Eddie’s tongue and that’s when the elastic band in his belly snapped, completely, a loud whine escaping into Eddie’s mouth as you let Steve fill your mouth, the taste of him driving you crazy already. It was sweet, not even a tiny bit sour or bitter.

Eddie pulled away from Steve’s lips to hold him still because his body was jerking at every spurt of cum that left him. He looked down towards you and his own dick wanted to rip out of his jeans as Steve finally relaxed on him and you took your mouth away from him. Steve followed Eddie’s gaze as he breathed heavily and he couldn’t believe his dick twitched when you opened your mouth to show his spent to both men. You closed your mouth to swallow Steve’s cum.

Eddie immediately reached down to wrap his hand around your neck, making you chuckle in pleasure as he pulled you up, chest coming in contact with Steve’s sweaty one. Eddie instantly pulled you into a deep kiss so he could taste Steve on your lips. The brown haired man shivered at Eddie’s eagerness and his body flushed in heat as he was still panting from how intense his orgasm was just now.

You moaned into Eddie’s mouth as he swirled his tongue against yours and he groaned as he tasted the sweetness that still lingered there. He pulled away from you and then his hunger got the best of him as both of his hands went towards the front of Steve’s corset, wanting to rip it open, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do that with the metal clasps. He groaned as he quickly started undoing the last of Steve’s clothing.

Steve’s eyes widened at how fast Eddie was working on his corset and then he saw how you moved your hands around his waist in order to reach behind him and towards Eddie to help him out. Steve was looking at your face, and you reached up to give him a soft kiss on his lips, and he couldn’t help but notice the remaining taste of him in your mouth, a soft groan escaping him. You started undoing Eddie’s belt, pulling the clasp open to then move onto his button and zipper as he finished undoing Steve’s corset.

Eddie immediately ripped it open, Steve letting out a sigh of relief, not having noticed how tight it had been. By ripping it open, it made the straps of chains on his shoulders slide down. Your hands left Eddie’s waist and you quickly moved away to crawl towards a night table, making Steve whimper at the loss of you. Eddie tugged onto the corset, making Steve’s arms move backwards in order to discard the clothing off, the wide silver elastic bands that pressed on his wrists finally coming off, and letting Eddie discard that piece of clothing to the side as well.

“On all fours.” Eddie ordered and Steve knew better than to go against that order as he saw you pull a bottle of lube out of the drawer, which made Steve’s softening dick begin to grow hard again. He let out a shaky breath as he let his body fall forward, both hands pressing against the mattress as he presented himself towards Eddie. A blush spread on his cheeks at how vulnerable he must be looking, but that was fine - it was just you and Eddie, no one else.

You bit your bottom lip as you crawled on the bed to be kneeling next to Steve. Your eyes sparkled at the sight of the bunny tail sticking out of Steve’s ass, and you looked at Eddie with excitement written all over your face. Eddie then grabbed onto Steve’s buttplug and slowly turned it, making Steve whimper at the feeling of overstimulation. You lifted the bottle of lube and let a small amount drip down where the plug was connected to Steve’s asshole.

“Relax baby, don’t clench.” You soothed Steve with your soft tone of voice and you could hear him taking in a deep breath before then letting it out. Your hand went towards the small of his back, rubbing small circles on it with your thumb as Eddie twisted the plug a bit more to spread the lube. He then started pulling backwards, and he could see Steve’s rim being stretched as the base of the plug began to show.

“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck–” He couldn’t help but feel the stretch of it. He knew that he was fully prepared inside, but his rim had already relaxed into the normal state. Eddie moved slowly, and then when the base of the plug was almost all out, he decided to stay put for a bit, twisting it slightly in order to adjust the rim in a larger size again. You licked your lips at the sight, completely hypnotized by it and how careful Eddie was being. Your heart was beating on your chest because of that action, and you smiled at it.

“You’re doing so good Stevie.” Eddie let out as he began to pull the rest of the plug much easier than before. He smirked knowing that he didn’t need preparation at all because the length of the plug was rather large. He experimented on moving the plug back inside Steve a few times, and he could feel how easy it was. Poor Steve felt himself growing crazy as his dick sprung back into hardness. He needed more. He didn’t want the buttplug. He needed something to go even deeper.

“P-Please…” He moaned out and that was Eddie’s snapping point. He had been patient and careful, and the two of you had had your fun. It was Eddie’s turn. He pulled the buttplug out of Steve, completely, and the other man let out a sigh of frustration. You stared at Eddie as he dropped the plug on the floor and he pulled himself out of the bed to finally rid himself of his pants and underwear in one motion. You licked your lips as you stared at his dick, red from how edged he already was, and you wanted to help him out so badly.

Eddie circled the bed, giving your cheek a soft caress as he passed by and you moaned in delight at that, handing him the bottle of lube. Steve’s eyes widened as he finally saw Eddie’s cock, and he wanted to take him into his mouth really badly. His eyes were teary as he snapped his head back to look at you with puppy dog eyes.

You understood what he wanted instantly, and you giggled, shaking your head at him.“Later baby.”

He whined when you forbid him of that right now, but he was going to dutifully do as you say. His eyes went back to Eddie who was getting himself comfortable in the middle of the huge bed, his back resting against the pillows and he was barely laying down. His dick was almost pointing at him from how hard he was and how curved it was.

“Ride me Harrington.” Steve shivered at the command, and as if his body was taken over by pleasure and lust, he started crawling towards Eddie, his face coming close to his dick and he almost went against what you said. But he closed his eyes,not letting himself be blinded by desire before looking back at Eddie. He crawled over his body, only to be stopped once more by Eddie putting a hand on Steve’s chest.

“W-What?” He asked and the long haired man smirked as he nodded once at him.

“The other way.” Steve’s eyes widened at that, gulping loudly but following orders. He crawled backwards in order to turn around in all fours and then started going back towards Eddie, this time his ass facing him. Eddie licked his lips as Steve’s legs started spreading, his knees opening as he slid closer towards Eddie, finally resting against Eddie’s thighs. Steve heard the bottle of lube being opened and then the coldness hit his asshole again, and he knew it was already going inside of him thanks to the gape the plug created on him.

“Eddie is going to make you feel so good baby.” You cooed at Steve who was blushing your way. You had decided to sit on the bed, one arm behind so it would help you support your body, legs spread again as you rubbed small circles on your clit.

“Come here big boy.” Eddie had pulled himself forward to press his hands on Steve’s chest in order to make him move backwards. Steve followed, his position changing completely as he helped himself with his hands behind him, on each side of Eddie’s ribs, pressing his feet against the mattress in between the other man’s spread legs, lifting his hips up. Adrenaline rushed all over Steve’s body, knowing that once he started going down, Eddie would start going inside of him.

You bit your lip as you saw Eddie lining his dick on Steve’s entrance as he stroked himself a few times. You saw Steve’s excitement splayed on his face as he let himself go down and his eyes widened towards the ceiling as he felt Eddie’s tip start to stretch the rim of his asshole even more than the buttplug did, and he noticed that Eddie had covered his dick in lube because it was sliding easily inside of him.

“FUCK!” Steve yelled as he kept sinking himself down on Eddie, not wanting to stop, the pain mixing with pleasure as he felt the pressure growing on him the deeper Eddie went. Eddie had to throw his head back onto the pillows, his body growing hotter as pleasure slowly started enveloping his mind.

“Just a bit more Stevie…” You said in a soft reassuring tone and that made Steve nod as he took another deep breath in to let himself sink even further down. It was as if there was no end to Eddie’s dick because he just kept going down, and down, and he was being stretched in places that the buttplug didn’t reach. Steve’s dick was already leaking precum again as it laid on his stomach and you were salivating with the need of tasting him again, but you opted to keep rubbing circles on your clit to keep you on the brink of your climax. Moans escaped your mouth as groans escaped Eddie’s and whimpers escaped Steve’s.

Steve finally slammed himself down, making Eddie bottom out in him and Steve let out a strangled moan, in pain, in pleasure, he didn’t know. Eddie was too deep inside him and he was touching places no man, dildo or plug touched before. The tattooed man leaned upwards to press a kiss on Steve’s back, trying to get him to relax because he had tensed his muscles at the friction.

“Move when you are ready darling.” He softly said to Steve and that made the other man sigh and completely relax on his hold. He felt safe, secure, and he knew that the pain would go away at some point but he also loved it so he didn’t care if it didn’t. He pressed on his feet for impulse and he raised his hips up, just barely, and moved down again. He groaned at the feeling and then he repeated it as Eddie’s tip and length started rubbing against his prostate.

“Oh god…” His face became flushed as the pleasure started taking over, his belly turning as he started going upwards even further than before and then going back down again. You were amazed by how fast he had adjusted to Eddie. You had to prepare yourself for a whole week to take Eddie into your ass for the first time, and even with that you took some minutes to be able to adjust to him.

Eddie’s hands came to grasp on Steve’s waist as the brown haired boy started moving even faster than before, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, throwing it back in pleasure. Steve felt his dick hitting him in his stomach each time he bounced on Eddie, hearing the man groaning behind him as loud degenerated moans started escaping Steve’s lips. These moans were completely different from the ones that he let out when he was fucking you.

You bit your bottom lip as you felt your face heat up at the sight before you. You saw how Eddie suddenly raised his hips up, putting his weight on his feet and it made Steve stop bouncing as his hips were raised up, Eddie’s dick pushing deep into him. Steve’s eyes snapped open when he felt Eddie chuckle behind him, and that’s when his whole mind was thrown out the window. He didn’t know who he was anymore as Eddie started fucking into him in a brutal pace.

“H-HOLY SH-SHIT!” Steve almost screamed those words as his head was thrown back at how quick Eddie was moving into him, his dick bobbing all the while as he kept himself up for Eddie to keep thrusting freely at his pace, the noises of skin slapping filling the room.

“Oh my god…” Your voice was dry as you looked at how Eddie was fucking into Steve, hungrily, and you could hear him groan, sometimes even moan under Steve. “How does he feel, Eddie?”

“Fucking amazing.” He said in a growl and he knew he was answering the question he asked Steve minutes ago. He could hear Steve’s choked moans above him and he smirked at the sounds, knowing he was about to make them worse. He impaled himself inside Steve, making the other man moan loudly as his eyes started tearing up from the feeling. He started pulling his hips back down onto the bed, making Steve follow him. Steve was confused because he was feeling good, breathing heavily, turning his head to his side to talk to Eddie.

“What happened?” He asked and Eddie only chuckled.

“Bunny, ride him.”

Steve’s eyes widened as his head snapped at you who was already getting up on the bed with a smile on your lips, excited and Steve felt like he was going to die right then and there. Your legs spread the farthest of the three of you, planting one foot on each side of Eddie’s hips, your ass facing Steve. You crouched downwards, and you spat on your hand, to then wrap it on Steve’s dick, pumping it a few times.

Steve moaned curses, he could feel Eddie move slightly underneath him as you pumped his dick and he was already dreading feeling you at the same time he felt Eddie. You smirked as you lined the tip of Steve’s dick at your entrance and slowly started sinking down on him, making Steve throw his head back with a silent moan escaping his lips. His breathing completely stopped, not knowing how to take all of the stimulation that his body was suffering.

“Oh, he feels so good.” You let out as you sank all the way down in order to bottom out. Steve only groaned at the feeling and you didn’t need time to adjust at all, so you immediately started moving up and down on him, quickly changing to a fast pace as you felt the coil in your belly start to turn.

“O-Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” Steve was completely gone at this point. Tears started sliding down his cheeks as he felt himself going in and out of you, but thanks to you riding him, the mattress was bouncing, and that made Eddie bounce in and out of him as well. Your arms were thrown backwards because you needed support. One of them landed on Eddie’s shoulder, and you angled your upper body to the side so your other arm could wrap around Steve’s shoulders.

You started twisting your hips in a circle motion, making Steve see stars, and he had realized he had access to your right nipple. In order to give you more pleasure, he latched his mouth onto it, gently biting onto the nub and pulling on it. You moaned loudly, your moving completely stopping at the feeling of your nipple being played with. You heard a loud groan beneath you and you knew Eddie had grown impatient.

“C’mon.” He raised his hips up forcefully, this time a little less than before, making Steve and you follow the movement, and then Eddie started thrusting into Steve once again and that made Steve go into you at the same pace that Eddie was fucking into him. You moaned loudly as you pinched your eyebrows together at the sensation, Steve never leaving your nipple as he kept sucking and biting onto it.

“Oh this feels so fucking good, holy shit.” You couldn’t help but express how amazing you were feeling. You couldn’t help but love the pace of it, and how good Steve’s dick was hitting your g-spot. Steve was a moaning mess beneath you, but he wanted to make you cum, at least help you with something. His belly was burning but yours was even more heated.

“Is Bunny going to cum?” Eddie teasingly said below the both of you, but he was trying to hold back on his own groans, his own moans, because everything was too erotic right now. Your moans mixed with Steve’s was just too pornographic. Steve whimpered when he felt you clench around his dick and you nodded dumbly as you pinched your eyes together. Eddie’s hands traveled from Steve’s waist towards yours and you started moving as well on Steve, trying to chase your orgasm.

The different paces were making Steve cry in pleasure. You were clenching on him as you bounced on your quick pace while Eddie was pounding harshly and rapidly underneath him. You kept going until finally you felt your belly turn as the climax was nearing closer and closer, your eyes going to the back of your head and Steve took this chance to bite onto your nipple again. That was your breaking point.

“FUCK!” Your walls clenched tightly as your hold on Steve grew tighter, and your head was thrown back in pure ecstasy. Stars flashed behind your eyelids as your legs trembled at your intense orgasm. Steve let go of your nipple to let out a loud moan, almost a cry of pleasure at the feeling, and Eddie halted his movements, finally huffing at how much he had moved in the past few minutes.

You twitched while on top of Steve, slowing your movements as you rode the last bit of your orgasm, breathing heavily as your back sticky with sweat, mixing with Steve’s own sweaty chest. Steve was sandwiched between you and Eddie and he was heaving for breath, moving slightly underneath you so he could take more oxygen into his lungs. You got the hint and pushed yourself up, letting Steve’s dick slip out of you again, making him wince at the feeling. Your legs were wobbly as you crawled away, and you were trying to regain your breath for the next part of your night. The part that excited you the most, as well as Eddie.

“You have to move darling. How do you want him?” Steve frowned at that, his chest going up and down until his attention snapped towards the clinking of some metal and leather. His eyes widened as he stared at what you were holding in your hands with a smile on your face as you still tried to catch your breath.

“On his back, head hanging off the edge. I want to see his pretty face as I wreck him.” You could see Steve’s face blushing a deep red in complete need as he heard your words. You smirked at him as you saw how the mascara stained his cheeks. You wanted to be the cause of those tears now, and you wanted to see it. “You want me to ruin you baby?”

And Steve nodded desperately.

Masochism:

Sexual arousal from pain, non life-threatening.

Eddie urged Steve to move, and the man above him got up on the bed, Eddie slowly slipping out of his asshole, making Steve whine at the loss of friction and stretch. He stood up and his legs almost gave out before Eddie immediately sat up to grab the back of his thighs to prevent him from falling down. Even if it were on a bed, he could fall back towards the headboard. Steve let himself fall on his knees and you could see how cock drunk he looked as you started putting the strap on, on yourself.

Steve crawled towards you and your eyes widened as he took his tongue out towards the black tip of the dildo that came with the strap. He kitten licked at the fake slit of the head of it, and then took it into his mouth, letting his saliva start coating the silicone. You smirked as your eyes turned dark and Eddie saw the shift in yourself. Your hand shot up to grab onto Steve’s hair and he whimpered at the sudden pain.

“What a cock drunk slut.” You hissed out and Steve whined at the degradation as you pushed your hips forward for him to take more of the silicone dick into his mouth, pushing his head further into it by his hair.

“You know how to pick them.” You hummed at Eddie’s words and your hips slammed forward with force, Steve’s eyes widening as you didn’t let go of his hair and you started ramming your fake cock into his mouth, making his saliva drip down onto the comforter. You heard Steve gag and you grinned wickedly as he looked up at you with tears streaming down his face.

“Look at his face Eddie.” Following your words, Eddie stood up from the bed, walking to stand next to you at the edge of the bed and his eyes widened at the beauty below him. He couldn’t see Steve’s face before, and now that he can see it, he realized how close he is to finishing, feeling his dick twitch and jump slightly. You grabbed both sides of Steve’s head and, in order to make a show for Eddie, you started pistoning your hips as you pushed Steve into you, making the tip of your silicone cock rub at the back of his throat repeatedly.

Steve gagged as gurgling moans were heard in the room, fresh tears running down his eyes as he tried to keep breathing through his nose but it was becoming too much. Yet, his dick was in desperate need for more. He needed more. The pain was just pleasure for him, and he wanted to be used, he wanted to be ruined, he wanted to be wrecked, and you and Eddie were making sure that he felt that way.

“Jesus fuck. Get on your back Harrington.” Eddie ordered desperately and you giggled at how needy he sounded, grabbing onto Steve’s hair to pull him away from you. When your fake cock left his mouth, the poor man took a deep breath in to get oxygen back into his lungs. You looked down at how well he coated the silicone with his saliva, but you wanted to make sure that it remained pleasurable so you urged Steve to get on his back as you looked for the bottle of lube at the edge of the bed.

Steve was panting, his shaft screaming for the need of release again. He laid back, looking at the ceiling and then Eddie’s face came into view as he looked down at him. Eddie’s hands came to rest behind Steve’s neck, pulling him a little more towards the edge and Steve helped him by scooting slightly in Eddie’s direction, but Eddie didn’t drop his head yet, knowing that you wanted to see Steve’s face first.

You opened the bottle of lube and squirted a nice amount of it onto the silicone, smothering it so it was nicely coated. You licked your lips in anticipation as you threw the bottle away and you crawled on the bed towards Steve, getting in between his spread legs. You smiled when you saw Eddie grinning at you as he held Steve’s head up for you to look when you finally wreck him.

“Ready?” You ask the man below you and he quickly nodded, his hips moving slightly with need and you bit your bottom lip as you put one of your hands behind his left knee and pulled it up to help him spread even more for you, while your free hand got hold of your fake dick, putting the tip at the already stretched rim of his hole.

Steve frowned in pleasure, mouth falling open in a silent moan as you started pushing the head in slowly, driving your hips forward, your other hand grabbing the back of his other knee and pushing it upwards like the other. How could it feel so good? Was it because it was you? Was it because it was his owner taking him? He didn’t know, but everything just felt too good, and he knew he was defiled now. This was his now, his future, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“M-More, please, please…” He moaned desperately and Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle as he listened. You smirked as you remembered what Eddie does to you when you ask something like that, so, you copied him. Your hips immediately slammed forward, and you knew he could take it. It was different from pussy, but he was already stretched, so the pain was not even going to be there. He cried in pleasure as you bottomed out in him, new tears forming in his eyes as he looked at you.

Your fingers dipped harshly into his skin as you started moving your hips back to then slam back in, a yelp coming out of his lips. You started gaining rhythm, moving in and out of him at a normal pace and you looked down at his face - it was love at first sight. He looked drunk, tears running down his face, his eyelids stopping half way, and you knew that his mind and all his rational thoughts were completely gone.

That made your hips start moving quicker against him, the slapping on skin and the clinking of the strap filling the room.

“Oh Eddie, he is so pretty, so fucking beautiful. Thank you, thank you for letting me have him, thank you.” Your mind was foggy with desire, looking at how wrecked and red Steve’s face was as he moaned out your name over and over in a prayer. You looked at where your bodies joined, his dick jumping up and down at the movement of your thrusts. Steve looked up at Eddie, eyes showing need and desire. He understood. He dropped Steve’s head, letting it hang on the edge of it and Steve smiled as he came face to face with Eddie’s dick once again.

“Can I?” Steve asked and Eddie looked up at you. You smiled and nodded your head as Eddie grabbed his shaft, grinning as he crouched slightly in order to aim it towards Steve’s mouth. He had opened it already, sticking his tongue out so Eddie could fit it into his mouth as easily as possible. One of Eddie’s hands landed on Steve’s chest as the head of his cock was engulfed into the other man’s mouth.

“I won’t go slow on you.” And Steve knew that. Eddie wasn’t like you at all. Eddie was a full on sadist, while Steve was the complete opposite and you were the mix of the two. That’s why Steve fits perfectly into this new equation, into this new puzzle, into this new partnership, relationship. He didn’t care what the label was, the only thing he knew was that he wasn’t going to leave you or Eddie any time soon.

Your pace quickened when Eddie started going deeper into Steve’s throat and his thighs were grabbed by Steve’s hands to have some leverage for him to not move forward thanks to your thrusts. Eddie closed his eyes in pleasure as he felt Steve’s throat opening easily thanks to the position he was in, a heavy groan vibrating from the depth of his chest. He was close, he really was. Looking at you thrusting into Steve while he throat fucks him was starting to become his tipping point.

He drove his hips backwards and back into Steve’s throat, feeling the vibrations of his moans sending shocks of pleasure all over his body. You bit your lip as you looked how deep Eddie was going into Steve’s throat, his pace starting to pick up and Steve’s saliva started making him gurgle around Eddie’s cock. You slammed your hips forward, diving into Steve, making him whimper around Eddie who let out a huff at the feeling. You stayed there and started grinding your hips against Steve’s, rubbing against his prostate back and forth.

He was so close, Steve was so close, and Eddie needed more. His hips started thrusting into Steve’s mouth more forcefully, making him gag slightly until he recovered and started breathing through his nose in sync with Eddie's movements. You chuckled as you let go of one of Steve’s legs, spitting into it so you could wrap it around Steve’s hardened dick. His eyes shot open for a second at the surprise of it, only to then close them as he felt you start to move your hips back and forth again, your hand following the rhythm of it making him moan even more around Eddie’s cock.

“Kiss me baby, please–” You begged Eddie, moving forward as you kept gliding your hand up and down on Steve’s shaft, his precum and your saliva mixing to let you move smoothly on him. Eddie grinned at you as he leaned forward, his other hand pressing onto the bed to keep himself up as his hips kept ramming into Steve’s throat. Your hips slowed down into deep shallow thrusts, making Steve cry in a loud whine every time you slammed yourself into him.

Eddie finally clashed his lips against yours, and you moaned into his mouth, pussy clenching on nothing at all as you both went in and out of Steve Harrington. You could feel yourself having trouble thrusting in and out as easily as before because Steve was most likely clenching as he neared his climax. Your hand moved faster as Eddie bit your bottom lip, making you his in delight, feeling a copper taste fill your mouth. He pulls away from you to look down at Steve’s throat, seeing himself going in and out, and he pulls away from him, slipping his cock out of his mouth.

A choked sigh escaped Steve’s lips as he panted heavily, trying to catch his breath, the blood completely up in his head making him dizzy and the feeling of his orgasm even more intense. He felt like he was going to explode as he bounced against your thrusts, moving quicker this time. Eddie’s hands wrapped against behind Steve’s head and he pulled him up so you could see his face again.

“Look at him Bunny… Look how broken he is.” Eddie said as he looked down at Steve’s face, a whine escaping the other man’s throat as your hand started moving in a rapid motion and the tip of the silicone dick started hitting his prostate repeatedly.

“You’re going to cum for me, pretty boy? Let me see you.” And that was all it took for Steve to moan out your name loudly, a cry, a thank you, thick ropes of cum spurting out of his dick and onto his belly, some reaching as far as his chest. You felt him drip down on your hand as you halted your movements because it became hard to thrust into him from how hard he was clenching on himself.

He didn’t know for how long his orgasm lasted, but he felt drained, completely spent . When his body finally lost its tension and he let out a huff of breath, that’s when you pulled out, a whimper escaping Steve’s lips. He felt empty, clenching on nothing, knowing there was a big gape from his once small hole, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. His throat hurt from how hard Eddie had fucked him there, but that’s when he realized that Eddie didn’t finish. He opened his eyes to look up at the man that was still holding him up, with a smirk to his face.

“What about you?” Steve says in a hoarse voice. He heard clinking on the bed and he was assuming that you were taking off the strap from yourself. Eddie chuckled and helped Steve to sit up on the bed, a wince escaping Steve’s lips, already feeling his bottom half hurting and sore.

“On your knees, floor. The both of you.” Eddie replied and you looked at Steve with a smile to your face as you rushed to kneel in front of Eddie. Steve was surprised at how quick you recovered from what happened but he guessed your stamina grew stronger after a year of being with this man. He winced again when he moved his legs towards the edge of the bed and stood up on wobbly knees. He was definitely fucked out, but he wants to make Eddie finish, he wants to taste him.

So Steve kneeled down next to you, smiling up at Eddie in the same manner that you were. Eddie had his dick right in front of the both of you and you were the first to make a move. You leaned forward to run your tongue along the shaft on one side and Steve took the hint almost instantly, copying your movement for on the other side. You two ran your tongues back and forth on his dick, slurping sounds filling the room with a few of Eddie’s groans.

Steve took the chance to glide his tongue further down, licking at the spot in between his balls and cock, to then completely swipe his tongue against his ballsack, making Eddie hiss. You wrapped his dick with your hand, moving back and forth as Steve started sucking on one of his balls, his mouth making a ‘pop’ sound every time he pulled away. You smirked at Steve’s action and licked your lips as you moved your head towards Eddie’s inner thigh and bit down onto his flesh.

That made Eddie come close to the edge.

“Tongues out.” He commanded and you two knew exactly that you had to stay still. Steve smiled at you as he pressed his face against yours, cheek to cheek, and the two of you were looking up at Eddie, tongues out, waiting for him to reward you both. Eddie moaned into his throat at the sight as he started pumping his dick with his own hand. This night was something that was planned for a year, and Steve had exceeded his expectations completely. He was going to have fun with the boy when you were on a mission or a meeting. That is if you let him, of course.

Eddie’s face twitched as his movements became desperate for release and his hips bucked into his hand once and twice, and then strings of cum started shooting out, coating your face, tongue as well as Steve. Eddie never came this hard, he had to keep himself from doing so the whole night, and he almost busted when he was inside of Steve. He somehow managed to not do so, so a lot came out but you two weren’t displeased by it, quite the opposite.

Eddie saw how the two of you opened your eyes and then looked at each other. Steve leaned forward to catch your tongue with his, smearing Eddie’s cum between the both of you, to then finally connecting his lips with yours, tongues dancing with saliva and Eddie. You both heard a chuckle above you and pulled away only to find Eddie smiling at the two of you.

“Aren’t you two so pretty?” You giggled alongside Steve and the lust that was in the room finally came to an end, at least for the night. Steve’s laughter stopped as he winced in disgust, looking down at himself, seeing his sweat and cum mixed together. You smiled at him, getting up from the floor and getting hold of his hands to help him up, making him hiss at the pain of his legs and bottom half.

“Time to shower and to take care of you, my beautiful boy.”

Eddie was smoking as he laid his back against the headboard of his bed, damp hair falling over his shoulders. He had showered with the both of you and quickly ran back to the room to change the comforters into new ones while you ran a bath for Steve to help him soothe his sore muscles and clean him from all the lube that was used on him.

You stumbled into the room, giggling with your arm wrapped around Steve’s, both of you in white robes, a smile never leaving Steve’s lips as you helped him walk on steady feet. You looked up to see Eddie in the center of the bed and smiled widely at him.

“Well you two are having fun so it seems.” Eddie commented as he took a deep swig of his cigarette, letting the smoke out of his lips and towards the tall ceiling. You rolled your eyes at him as you helped Steve get into bed on one side, a wince escaping his lips as his bottom touches the mattress. Eddie’s hand immediately reached forward to rub on Steve’s back, motioning him to scoot closer to him.

Steve was surprised by the intimate gesture, but followed his guidance, hissing as he scooted closer to lay on Eddie’s chest as he cuddled up to him. Eddie’s hand immediately went to the small of Steve’s back, running soothing circles against the skin.

“Don’t be so jealous about it.” You said and Eddie scoffed at that. Steve couldn’t help but think how crazy it was to be this carefree with the two of you after what you two had done to him. He trusted you both more than he ever trusted his father–

“Oh!” Steve sat up as he remembered something, earning him a grimace of pain in his features. You rushed to his side to see if there was anything wrong with him but he quickly regained his composure and looked at you. “Did they bring up the black bag I mentioned?” He asked, and you tilted your head, nodding at him and walking towards the walk-in closet that was in the room. Eddie was confused as he saw how you walked back in with what looked like a school bag.

“Are we learning the ABC’s today?” Eddie asked with a snicker and Steve only rolled his eyes at him as you handed the bag to him.

“I didn’t want to catch any suspicions with it, so I covered it up as a normal sleepover bag.” He took out a pair of pajamas that perfectly hid a black folder that nestled inside. He took it out, throwing the bag and clothes to the floor and handing the folder to Eddie. The long haired man raised an eyebrow at it, putting the cigarette in his lips as he took the folder in his hands and laid it on his lap. He opened it to start reading the content of it, a smirk slowly forming on Steve’s face.

Eddie grabbed onto the cigarette again to finally let out a delighted laugh.

“You gave me your father’s clients. People I can blackmail. The rights to several bank accounts and companies. You know this will destroy the Harrington Emporium, right?” He asked but he knew the answer. You were giggling with excitement as you rushed to the other side of Eddie to take a peek of the list that was on his lap.

“My father does not deserve the power that he has… You on the other hand…” Steve spoke in a sultry tone as he leaned again towards Eddie, placing a soft kiss against his chest, and your eyes were looking at Steve with adoration and excitement.

“Now Stevie… Don’t forget you are mine.” Steve chuckled at that as you leaned forward, right above Eddie’s chest with a pout on your lips. He leaned towards you to press a soft kiss on your lips before pulling away with a nod of his head. You two heard a throat clearing and you turned your heads to look at Eddie glaring down. You giggled and pressed a kiss on Eddie’s lips, and he let out a hum of contentment at it.

When you pulled away he looked at Steve and he copied your movement and pressed his lips against Eddie’s. When the two of them pulled away, Eddie had a sick grin to his face, and he realized that he now had it all. He had the power, he had the daughter and son of the biggest mob families in the district, and now the three of you would live together. And he knew Steve was good with bribery pacts, so he was going to be useful to Eddie in that sense.

Of course, there were feelings inside of each of you that were too complicated to put into words, so you all let it be as it is, and that was good enough. Eddie got the power, but you and Steve finally got the freedom you so desired. The freedom you two have craved since you were kids. You were owned, but not caged. You didn’t let people make decisions for you, and no one can tell you what to do now… Except intimately.

"Eddie~" You whined at him, making him chuckle as he turned to face you.

"Yes?"

"I didn't get to have your dick tonight…" You were pouting at him, Eddie shaking his head as he placed a soft kiss against your forehead. Steve giggled at your actions, only for him to now look at Eddie with a serious look on his face, catching the other man's attention.

"Can I finish inside of Bunny next time?" He dared to ask and Eddie chuckled darkly as he took another swig of his almost finished cigarette.

"I'll think about it, Pretty Rabbit. We just had a few things planned first, but they can wait for a while now that you're here with us. We will just postpone them for later on." At that Steve's head tilted to the side in confusion, looking towards you for answers. You giggled at his confused frown as you started talking while cuddling against Eddie's side.

"Eddie has all this new power and actions, and he wants the lineage of it to keep being… Munson." You softly said as images start jumping in your head, growing excited for it. Steve's eyes widened as he looked at Eddie for confirmation, who was already looking down at Steve with a smirk to his face.

"I need an heir."

Bang, bang, bang, bang, goes the farmer's gun. So run, rabbit, run, rabbit, run, run, run.

Reblogs help artists to engage even more in this platform, only liking does not do much BUT I DO APPRECIATE IT.

a/n: well that was one hell of a ride, so I hope you enjoyed that filth!

SEE STEVE'S OUTFIT HERE IN THIS AMAZING COMMISION @pach-inks DID FOR ME

Taglist: @ghost-proofbaby @munson-blurbs @theflowerrooms @sidthedollface2 @mandyjo8719 @xxhellfiregirlxx @hellfirefiend @corrodedcoffincumslut @pastel-pillows

554 notes · View notes