#and we joked about being in a horror movie all night because of it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sungbeam · 14 days ago

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𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 — part one

nonidol!ji changmin x f!reader

messing around with demonic rituals isn't exactly how you imagined getting bound to changmin's soul. (note to self: salt circles don't work when you draw the pentagram inside it...)

▷ genre, warnings. f2l, technically a college au, demon au (it's different from night terrors i swear. also it's not as intense lol), comedy, suspense/mystery, swearing (a lot... sorry 😭), drinking, low fantasy/supernatural elements, mentions of chronic illness, mentions of rituals and pentagrams, self induced soulmates? 🤔 but ofc 😂, kissing, mentions of blood, very small amount of violence (like one scene), what is a mfking slow burn like who needs to take their time w falling in love i sure don't 🤷🏻‍♂️, one allusion to death

▷ part word count. 16.3k out of 34.8k / read part two here

▷ inspired by. incantations (composed by richard meyer) it's not like,,, the fic's "soundtrack" or anything. i just think it sounds cool lol

this is my submission for deoboyznet's boyz who bite event! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

a/n: i'm telling u that i resisted the idea of another demon changmin au for ONE WHOLE MONTH. i went through THREE OTHER IDEAS BEFORE FALLING BACK ON THIS DRAFT. I SWEAR. so pls reblog + comment + enjoy! :') and thank u to @justalildumpling as usual for reading this for me 😭💖

PART I: THE CATALYST

THERE WERE WORSE WAYS TO GO OUT, you supposed. However, the paranormal wasn't often a subject you frequented, so sitting atop an ashy-white pentagram wasn't exactly how you expected to be spending a Friday night.

“Changmin, you're always hooting about this shit,” Juyeon said as he peered over his shoulder at the boy lurking in the far corner of the living room. “Are you seriously all bark and no bite?”

No one really paid attention to Changmin's response besides you and Juyeon (kind of—he was busy lighting the candles). Technically, it was a new behavior; Changmin was usually the one obsessed with horror movies and the paranormal, constantly getting you all to participate in Halloween horror nights and haunted houses, and bringing his beloved (cursed) Chucky doll to any and every group movie night. But now that you were finally acting on his demonic big talk, all of that stuff and nonsense dissipated like the snuffing out of a candle.

A shadow fell across his face. “I already warned you guys. This isn't something you should be toying around with.”

“It's a Ouija board—what could go wrong?” Shuhua wrinkled her nose as she began tapping out a circle of salt around your body and the pentagram on the floor. “I saw them on sale at Toys R Us for half off.”

Because you were the last one to arrive tonight, you were chosen as the sacrifice. It wasn't really fair because this was literally Juyeon and Changmin's apartment, but it didn't matter much in the end. You didn't believe in this stuff and it wasn't your salt being wasted. (You were also exempt from venmoing Hyunjae a portion of the paycheck he spent buying candles and chalk. Save fifteen bucks and sit on a pentagram in a salt circle? Why the fuck not.)

“Don't we need to draw blood or something?” you asked, half joking.

“No.” Changmin's expression somehow grew even darker. Your eyes widened slightly; you'd never seen him so serious. “Absolutely not. Do you want this to turn out worse?”

“Changmin, dude, you gotta chill, man.” Hyunjae dumped the Ouija board he'd dug out of his parents’ attic onto the floor next to you, just outside the salt circle.

Shuahua squawked. “Oy! You're ruining my perfect circle!”

“Just redo it, dumbass!”

“You redo it, asshat,” she growled back, tapping out some salt to finish it.

Juyeon, as if to placate your friend, said to Changmin, “The salt will protect her.”

You blinked. “Oh, that's what it's for?” You could've sworn that was what the candles were for, but again, you didn't believe in this, so why would you know a thing about it?

Changmin's face hit the palms of his hands with a resounding slap. “Absolutely not. You can't have Yn in the circle if she doesn't even know what the Hell is going on.”

“So do you wanna be in the circle?”

His left eye seemed to twitch as he cocked his head to the side. Something about that movement made a shiver crawl down your spine. The sensation was akin to watching a predator consider its prey from the brush… but that wasn't right. Changmin was all dimpled smiles and goofy shenanigans and twinning with his horror doll child. There wasn't anything remotely scary about him, unless you made him mad (you hadn't yet). So why were your inner alarms screaming for you to run? “That's actually not a bad idea—”

“Okay!” Hyunjae called his hands together. “Let's get started, shall we?”

The thoughts were brushed beneath the dusty rug in your head. You shrugged at Changmin. “Too late, I guess.”

You thought you heard him mutter out something under his breath in frustration, but you didn't understand the language.

All of your other friends began to gather on the side of the circle where the Ouija board was. You weren't even sure what all the pomp and circumstance was for, but Changmin didn't seem up to correct anything. He continued to sulk in the corner with his arms folded over his chest, eyes shaded by the brim of his cap as he stared onward.

Hyunjae's eyes fluttered closed as he, Juyeon, and Shuhua placed their fingers upon the planchette. “To the spirits who may be here in this room with us—”

“And demons,” Shuhua murmured.

A choked sound came from Changmin's side of the room.

Your eyes flickered open and saw him rub a hand down his face as if he was stressed.

“We are opening the veil between your world and ours,” Hyunjae continued. “My name is Hyunjae, and with me are Shuhua, Yn, Juyeon, and Changmin.”

Shuhua inhaled shallowly. “Is there someone here with us?”

The apartment was consumed in a dead silence as the five of you waited. You sat cross-legged in your ring of salt, cheek resting against your fist. Your eyes were drifting to half-mast—it’d been a long day for you, and considering it was approaching midnight already, it was about time you went to bed.

“We brought you a sacrifice,” Hyunjae said. “We were wondering if you could tell us your name.”

A chilling breeze brushed past your cheeks and you glanced up, expecting the air conditioning to have caused it. There was no vent above you, however. Strange.

You wrung your hands in your lap. “You could possess me if you'd like.”

Your eyes joined your friends’ as you all pinned your gazes to the Ouija board. The planchette remained still.

After a beat, your patience ran thin, and you sat up to lean back on your hands—wasn't something supposed to happen?

The amber glow from the candles in the living room wavered violently. In your surprise, your fingers grated against the salt and hardwood as you nearly fell backward. You yanked your hand back to you at the sting.

The bodies in the room went taut, speechless.

A gust of wind—something impossible in this enclosed space—whipped past you in a wide circle. The salt circle was no more, the candle flames were snuffed.

You sat stiff as a board. For a moment, you could swear you felt some invisible, foreign weight rest upon your chest. It sank deep into you, a phantom hand reaching into your body as if to latch onto your very soul.

Ba bump ba bump ba bump, your heart drummed wildly in your chest.

Howls and gasps of delight were drowned out by the blood in your ears; they were sounds of awe from your friends. You placed your hand over your sternum in the dark to feel for that unseen force, but there was nothing.

The room flooded with warm light. It chased away the shadows to the furthest corners.

You glanced up and saw Juyeon at the light switch with a boyish grin stretched across his lips. “That was crazy! Yn, how do you feel?”

Eyes darted to you.

The pentagram beneath you was smudged, the white chalk staining your pants and your hands. You managed a smile, and then a slow nod. What you felt earlier was probably nothing.

“I'm good,” you chirped. You glanced over at Changmin in the corner, his eyes still shaded by the brim of his cap, but with the muscle in his jaw clenched. Why? Why did you look at him? You couldn't fathom why survival instinct had you encoded to turn toward that which was capable of your demise. “Yeah, I'm good.”

A yawn tore through you as you stepped into your darkened apartment. Your hand fumbled for the light switch and you tucked your shoes away on the rack, before depositing your keys onto the table with a noisy clatter. The remainder of your time spent at Juyeon and Changmin's had been spent cleaning up the failed ritual, and you hit the road as soon as it was over.

Your roommates were all out for the night, so the apartment was cold and quiet as you stumbled down the hall to your bedroom. Compared to your friends, you'd left rather quickly because of a text you'd received from Lee Chan, a good friend of yours and former neighbor from childhood. His home life hadn't been the most spectacular, so you and he became fast friends during the moments after school when you hung out on your front lawn.

He'd swung by your apartment earlier to drop off banana muffins, but you hadn't been home. I'm home now! But you can totally come by in the morning instead, you texted him after setting your backpack down and peeling off your jacket.

As you sat in the dim gold illuminating from your desk lamp, the pressure in your chest returned. You could feel your heart pick up speed in your ribcage and you lifted your finger up to your mouth to suck on the dollop of blood that had welled to the surface. It was a small scratch from when the candles went out—your own clumsiness—but it was nothing a My Little Pony bandaid couldn't fix.

A featherweight sensation drifted over your arm, and you slapped your palm over it as if to catch whatever invisible insect crawled atop your skin.

There was nothing though.

You glanced over at the window to your right. The sky outside was an unpeculiar ebony riddled with the white speckles of distant stars. No breeze drifted in from outdoors and you double-checked that the window was closed.

You startled as your phone vibrated on top of your desk.

dino!!: oh it's okay! i have dance practice early in the morning, so i'd rather bother you while ur still awake haha dino!!: i'll be by in about 10ish min if that's cool? your phone: sounds good lol and tysm :’)) love mingyu's banana muffins

You smiled to yourself at the thought of those delicious pastries. Chan's friend Mingyu baked whenever he was stressed, and he usually gave out the results of his stress-bakes to friends. The first time you'd tasted his banana chip muffins was the closest you would ever get to heaven on Earth.

“I'm glad he makes you smile at least.”

Your phone clattered to the floor, your physical body leaping five feet in the air as your soul flew out of its encasing. Everything in you jolted like one, big heart palpitation, and your wide eyes took in the sight of a person standing by your window.

Ji fucking Changmin had nary an apology on his lips for scaring the everloving Hell out of you. It was as if he hadn't even moved out of his position at his apartment: the crossed arms, the tense posture, the clenched jaw.

Except, his eyebrow was cocked this time, unamused by your very valid fear.

“Oh, fuck you.” You braced your palms against your bed as you stood opposite from him. “Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you.”

“I got it the first time.”

You could have blown steam out of your ears. “What the fuck are you doing in my room, you creep?”

He raised his palms up, finally breaking pose. “I know what this looks like—”

“You know what this looks like?” You let out a scoff, throwing your arm out in wild gesticulation to match the throttle of your heartbeat. “This looks like Edward Cullen in Twilight, except this isn't a movie, you're not Robert Parkinson, and you just climbed up a five story building!”

Changmin stepped forward, and you took a very obvious step back. He exhaled, pressing his lips together. “Okay, I deserve that,” he muttered.

“No shit. I should call the cops on you, friend or not. What is the matter with you?” You had known Changmin for as long as your college career thus far. The five of you had met in the freshman dorms and stuck together like a package deal since. You were all quite close, and you'd spent more than your fair share of quality time with Changmin.

But this—nothing could warrant this behavior.

“I need to talk to you about something important.”

You enclosed your palms around your arms, defensive. “Then you call or text or use the front door. My window was locked—”

“The lock on your window should be the least of your concerns,” he huffed. There was a firmness in his voice and behind his words, and a matching gleam of desperation in his face. He pressed his fingers against your bedspread and the air seemed to still.

That phantom breeze had returned and it drifted against your arm. It came accompanied by the weight in your chest. “What,” you stammered, “do you mean?”

He glanced away then, that tension seizing his shoulders again. He scratched his jaw seemingly at odds with words. “The ritual that happened tonight… that was real.”

You paused. “You have got to be shitting me.”

“I'm not.”

“Changmin, I'm way too exhausted to deal with your pranks right now. If tonight was all an elaborate thing you guys did to get back at me for waking you up at 4AM—”

“Yn.” The tone of his voice made you stop. It made you think. You considered the graveness of his expression differently; you had never seen him so serious. It was jarring. “I am being incredibly serious. The thing that happened to you tonight? That was a summoning ritual, and you were actually put into contact with Hell.”

You remained quiet, unknowing of how to answer. All logic in your brain was countering his statements profusely—it wasn't possible. There was no way something as little as chalk, salt, and candles could open up a portal to Hell.

At your lack of response, Changmin continued, “Tonight, a line to Hell was opened. The ritual was meant to contact a demonic entity. Usually, ritualists use it to make deals and bargains with whoever answers the call. The human link—the 'sacrifice’” —he looked at you pointedly— “is one half of the signing party responsible for fulfilling whatever the bargain is.”

A shudder rattled down your spine at what he revealed to you. This had to be a joke, you thought. This could not be real. But every time you looked at Changmin, the expression on his face did not change and his voice did not waver.

You swallowed, hard. “So,” you said finally, your voice barely a whisper, “you're saying…”

A lone nod. “You made contact with a demon tonight.” He paused for a beat, something warring behind his eyes. “You made contact with me.”

What. You sputtered out a laugh.

Changmin released a small, but sharp exhale, patiently waiting for you to let your giggles out. There were undoubtedly better ways to reveal it, but any way would still evoke such a reaction from you.

“Okay, now I know you're fucking with me,” you said with the lingering curl of a smile on your face. “You're saying that you're a demon?”

He seemed to weigh an idea in his head for a millisecond before caving. He flicked his chin out toward you. “You cut yourself tonight?”

You flinched and instinctively curled your right hand, your other fingers running over the small slice in your index finger. “What?”

“Come on. Let me see.” At your balking, he lifted up his hand. “I bet you I have a matching mark.”

Your eyes narrowed. “What hand and where?”

“Right hand. Index.”

“This doesn't count because that's the most predictable hand and finger.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yn, don't be silly. I literally have the same mark.”

Slowly, he stepped his way around the bed to your side, stopping only close enough where you could inspect his hand from a distance. Lo and behold, the flesh of his index finger was neatly sliced open, slightly diagonal in the top right quadrant of the finger—exactly where yours was.

The breeze returned like a cool breath, gentle against your cheek, as you raised your eyes to meet his again. The horror in your gaze must have confirmed that he'd convinced you of who—no—what he was.

“So what does this mean exactly?” you asked him. There were no giggles this time.

Changmin sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. “We are now bound via soul,” he said and extended his hand out slightly. His fingers curled inward and he gave a tugging motion level with your chest, and something deep within you moved.

Your eyes went as wide as a full moon. “What the Hell…”

“That's the line we're connected by.”

“I'm on a leash?”

Changmin glanced toward the ceiling as if mentally counting to three, then took a breath. “Not a leash; it's just a line. That's what was created between us when I became the demon on the other end and you spilled your blood on the pentagram. It doesn't mean we're restrained to stay within physical proximity of one another, but it does mean that you can't run away and hide from me.”

You shuddered. “That sounds scary.”

“It would be if you didn't fulfill your end of a bargain, but you never made a bargain.” He lifted his baseball cap up to card a hand through his blond hair before replacing the hat on his head. “Which basically means that we're stuck like this. We are emotionally and metaphysically bound to one another.”

There were a lot of words that had been said over the past few minutes, and most of them were difficult to wrap your head around. The worst truth of all was the brief, but very real sensation you had felt when Changmin had tugged on the invisible link between the two of you. That weight on your chest from earlier… had that been the “bond” settling into place?

“How could sitting on a chalk pentagram even” —you waved your hands around as you attempted to formulate words— “how was all of that possible? I thought Ouija boards were fucking toys?”

“I told you guys that you shouldn't play around with those things.”

“Well, how the Hell were we supposed to know this was going to happen?” you countered. The four of you had done some innocent fooling around, and now, you were “emotionally and metaphysically bound” to Changmin. Whatever the fuck that meant.

Changmin sighed, rubbing his hands over his face. “We can undo it. I think.”

You think? “How?”

“I—I need to do some research,” he said with a grimace. “I've never heard about instances like this and I didn't think it was even possible. I thought I could just intercept the call—”

Intercept the call? You shook your head. “I need you to start from the beginning, but slowly, as if you're speaking to a five year old.”

He opened his mouth to retort, then stopped abruptly.

A change in expression flickered across his face. It was brief, almost instinctual. You swore it looked like mild irritation, but it was gone before you could be sure. “You should probably answer the door.”

“Answer the what?”

You nearly yelped at the sound of loud knocking at the apartment door. Confusion pummeled you first, then you were swearing. “Chan.” You forgot he was stopping by.

“I'll be right back,” you said, moving toward the bedroom door.

“It’s fine. I need to go looking for answers.” Changmin stopped you before you went out, and you couldn't suppress the violent shudder when the invisible line in your chest pulled taut. “And Yn? Don't do anything stupid.”

You made a face at him from over your shoulder. “I'm already soul-bound to you by accident. How much more stupid can this get?”

He threw his hand up in the air. “Just don't do anything Hyunjae or Shuhua would do. Actually, just don't tell any of them about what I just told you.”

Why not? You were about to ask when you heard Chan's voice at the door calling out to you. Another swear fell from your mouth and you rushed out into the hallway to rip the door off its hinges.

Chan startled as it opened, his eyes going wide like a deer's in the bright hallway lights. There was a loose blue hoodie hanging over his green dinosaur pajama pants. He had his phone in his hands along with a paper bag undoubtedly carrying the legendary banana muffins. “Oh, hi. Sorry, is someone here with you? I thought I heard another voice.”

You braced a hand around the doorframe. Don't tell anyone. “Ah,” you winced, the lie curling up your tongue, “I was just on a call with a friend and he wouldn't shut up. Sorry about the wait.”

“No, it's no worries,” he insisted with a classic, easygoing smile. It made the adrenaline in your veins calm somewhat. Chan had always been a good presence to be around. There was something perpetually warm about his persona that made you want to stay in his orbit. “Oh, right!” He handed you the bag. “These are all yours. Mingyu says to let him know how they taste this time around, as always.”

As you accepted the bag, your face lit up like a Hollywood billboard. “I can guarantee that they will taste as divine as always. Tell him thanks for me” —you glanced up sheepishly from the paper bag— “and also, thanks for stopping by. I wish I was home earlier so you didn't have to drive all the way back.”

You didn't realize your face had contorted into a grimace. If only you had come straight home instead of indulging your friends’ curiosity tonight. Then, you would have been here with the banana muffins and one less soul-bond to worry about; and you would have been none the wiser to the fact that one of your college friends was a demonic entity.

Hadn't Changmin mentioned that you were now emotionally and metaphysically bound? Did that mean he could feel your emotions?

The smile had long since slipped from your face, but now your hands grew cold. When you got your muffins just now, did he know—

“Yn?” You perked up at the sound of your name. Chan's hand froze midair, then retracted back to his pocket. Concern shone on his face as stark as day. “Are you okay? You look like you just forgot you have something due tonight,” he chuckled half-heartedly, but the sheen in his eyes told a different story.

“Oh.” You forced out a laugh. “I'm fine! Yeah, I was just reminded of something. Actually—uhm, I shouldn't hold you up for any longer. It's getting late.”

Chan stared at you for a moment longer, and for that seemingly infinitesimal second, you feared he could see the invisible knot tied to your ribcage. “Right,” he said suddenly while shaking his head. “You should get some sleep.”

Your hand reached for the doorknob. “Thanks for dropping by again.”

“Wait” —his palm pressed against the door to keep you from closing it— “are you sure you're okay?”

It was as if your guilt was written in plain words across your forehead: No! I just became magically handcuffed to one of my demonic friends! And I also sat in a pentagram salt circle less than two hours ago! Please help me!

You channeled all your energy into a convincing smile. “Yes, I promise I'm okay. Have a good night, Chan.”

It was enough. That easygoing beam graced your eyes once more and he took his hand back. “Okay,” he said, “good night.” He waved to you as he turned on the ball of his foot, and you waited until he turned the corner before closing the door.

Your entire body deflated as you let out a rather dramatic sigh. That sigh turned into a loud groan, which eventually escalated into a borderline scream.

Like a woman possessed (would possession have been a better outcome than this?), you slunk back into your bedroom with your treasures in your grasp. “Hey,” you muttered as you kicked the door closed, “I'm… back.”

The room was vacant. Not a trace of the blond demon could be found.

“Son of a gun.” You settled into your desk chair and pulled out one of Mingyu's stress-baked muffins. As you peeled the parchment wrapper from the muffin's bottom half, you attempted to process all that had occurred within the past two hours. Every time you rewound the events, you met the same dozen or so questions. If only Changmin were still here to answer them, but he mentioned something about going off to answer questions of his own, including ones pertaining to undoing this rather inconvenient situation you’d found yourselves in.

“He should have stopped us,” you garbled between bites of banana chip muffin.

Your chewing came to a gradual halt as you marinated on that thought. “He… should have stopped us.” Why didn't he stop the four of you? If he had stopped you and suggested a movie instead, or any other activity for that matter, you wouldn't be here and he wouldn't be stressed.

He should have stopped you since he knew what you were getting yourselves into.

You crumpled the now empty muffin wrapper in your fist. Ji Changmin had far too much to explain to you.

PART II: THE CONSEQUENCES

IF THERE WAS NO REST FOR THE WICKED, Changmin didn't want to be wicked anymore. By popular perception, he and half his heritage were “evil.” While his father was a human from this mortal plane, his mother hailed from one of the nine circles of Hell. They'd fallen in love, conceived a halfling child, and the remainder was history.

“You look like shit, Ji.”

Changmin's eye twitched as irritation needled beneath the surface of his skin. “Thanks,” he drawled, not bothering to spare Lee Chan a glance. If he had limited energy reserves, he wasn't about to spend a drop on giving Chan the time of day.

Plus, Changmin was more than aware of the thick shadows that lingered beneath his eyes like fog clinging to cobblestone. He had woken up from his ninety minute power nap, trudged into the bathroom, and faced his own gauntness in the mirror. Why the fuck did Lee Chan think it necessary to point it out?

Chan's stare lingered on him through the practice room's mirror for a moment longer until he was called away by Kwon Soonyoung. Only then, when Chan's attention was passed elsewhere, could Changmin release the breath he was holding onto.

It was one thing that Changmin couldn't shake the offputting energy he felt whenever he was near Chan; he could stomach being on the same dance team as the guy, even though they each harbored an unspoken dislike for one another; but it was another thing entirely that he and Chan were both friends with you. The two boys attempted to be civil in front of you because your comfort was more important than their pettiness, but currently, said truce was nowhere in sight just as you were.

Simply, there were less reasons for him to be amiable today, including his thinning patience. Last night’s debacle had drained him of his energy. He was a halfling, not a pure-blooded demon. Additionally, his mother wasn’t a high-ranking demon by any means, which basically screwed him in the area of power stores. He had magical capabilities, but it could only handle so much. Answering ritual calls and creating soul bonds required a decent amount of power, which was why they were usually only answered by the more powerful demonheads of Hell. They enjoyed making human suffering a pastime.

Tacking onto that Changmin’s brilliant idea of warping into and out of your room last night instead of using his own two feet, as well as spending hours digging through the occultish corners of the internet, added all together to make for one exhausted, stressed, and grumpy halfling.

A presence—this one being far more welcome than the previous one—appeared by Changmin’s side in the mirror. “You really need to start going to bed when you say you're going to bed,” Juyeon said as plopped down onto the laminated hardwood to stretch out his calf muscles.

Changmin followed his lead onto the floor, but opted to slide into a left split. “I was tossing and turning the whole night,” he dismissed with an innocent lie. (Well, “innocent” was subjective.)

“You should try this new matcha that Hyunjae got from his hyung. He brought it back from his recent trip from Japan.”

For a second, Changmin let the words feed into his head one by one: matcha… from Hyunjae… from Hyunjae's brother… which one was he? Oh, the one who just got back from Japan, Sangyeon. When his tired brain finally caught up, he gave a nod. “What about it?” he asked, raising himself up to switch his hips into the right split.

Juyeon looked on with envious admiration, even if this was the thousandth time he stretched with Changmin. “It’s really refreshing and has a bit of a caffeine kick, but it's not as awful as coffee. Indigo likes it, too—said something about it being one of those rare finds that you can only get in the secluded countryside or something.”

Changmin paused. Juyeon's girlfriend Indigo was someone Changmin got along with well, but that wasn't why he was slightly interested in the matcha now. What Juyeon wasn't aware of was Indigo's witch heritage. Just as Changmin was hiding in plain sight, so too was Indigo. And if she recommended some countryside matcha powder, he was going to be inclined to try some.

“Yeah,” he coughed, “sure. Sounds like it wouldn't hurt to try.”

Pleased with the outcome of the conversation, Juyeon smiled and nodded. “I'll get you some later today then. Hopefully it'll help with the weird headaches you've been having, too.”

Changmin had nearly forgotten about those with everything that had happened. He'd recently been struck by random headaches; there were no patterns to their appearance, and no remedy—human, at least—that could soothe them until they faded on their own. He'd failed to ask Indigo about it because, well, he didn't think it was important enough to act on. But if this tea could help him out, then it would be taking out two birds with one stone.

Practice went on swimmingly. Though Changmin could only boast about his ninety minutes of sleep, when it came to dance, it was as if he was possessed. This was a hobby—a passion—that never failed to drive a fire through his veins. It didn't matter if he'd had the worst week in the history of worst weeks; when the music started, he was cued in, and he gave it his all.

As a river of sweat poured down his face and the room suffocated with the humidity of everybody's labored breathing, practice came to an end. Changmin hiked his duffle bag over his shoulder and poured water down his throat. Juyeon wasn't far behind as the two of them waved goodbye to their teammates and headed out.

Saturday mornings usually occurred in similar fashions: dance practice was held from 7AM to 10AM, then Changmin and Juyeon would return to their apartment to wash up; Changmin would then eat about an elephant's worth of food while he caught up on lecture recordings—unless he had something else to distract him.

In the case of this Saturday, as soon as Changmin had finished showering, he plummeted face-first into his pillows and was out like a light.

Demons could dream, one must understand. However, the demonic body tended only to dream when it was well spent—exhausted. Demons liked to correlate a weakness with having dreams, because foolish visions meant that one was unable to control their own mind. Control was rather important when dealing with magic.

Even if the dream was about, say, something real and occurring right at the moment Changmin was asleep—it was still considered a dream. Because he had not yet learned to leash his mind from meandering down his fresh soul bond, he found himself in a body that was not his own.

Yours. It was your body.

Was this real, he wondered, as he soaked in the familiar sight of your bed, the desk, and the closet space. He'd been in here just last night—albeit, in a fashion that wasn't agreeable—and he didn't expect it to change, but it did look real.

It was like he was actually sitting in your room, except he wasn't able to move or control his own body. The heart that beat in his chest was yours, the blood that pumped in his ears was yours, and the breath that fell from his mouth was yours.

He inwardly sighed as you adjusted your position at your desk chair. What a predicament he found himself in. He could feel the ache in your back from the uncomfortable piece of furniture beneath you, as well as the knots in your shoulders. (Did that mean you had a bad night of sleep?)

Though, it wasn't all bad, he supposed. He did adore the smell of your perfume lingering in the air and clinging to the sheets, the walls, the furniture… You would never know this of course, if he could help it.

You were currently reading a book—for class or for enjoyment, he hadn't the foggiest. The left side of the novel you clutched in your hand was riddled with colored sticky tabs, and you had the back of a ballpoint pen pressed between your lips. (His lips? …No, this was a precarious line of thinking.)

Changmin followed along as you read. Well, he tried. Whoever designed the layout of this book must have had perfect vision and no sympathy for someone visually challenged. The font size was likely less than ten point, and good grief, the line spacing—

“Holy shit.”

He paused. Right, that was you and not him.

You leaned forward and brought the book closer to your face as you read over the line again.

“Oh my gosh, Eliot, you incredible, talented woman.” This earnest compliment was swiftly followed by a colored tab to mark the passage. Changmin was about to read what you tabbed, but your eyes went down to the desk to scrawl a thought onto a post-it note. “Dorothea, you poor, poor soul. Casaubon needs to get the fuck over himself—you are fifty, dude.”

Changmin, frankly, had no clue what was happening. But he didn't entirely mind, because the pure joy that fluttered in your (his) chest was enough to keep him satisfied. There was something oddly serene about being in your sphere of presence, and in this state of being, that kept him at ease.

The stress of breaking this soul bond ebbed away like the receding edge of a tide.

Alas, all good things had to come to an end. Changmin couldn't tell how much time passed before you bookmarked your place with an index card and pulled your phone toward you.

12:04PM was what your lockscreen read.

Oh, so he was definitely catching up on sleep, at least.

Wait—had you not eaten lunch yet? The unmistakable void in the pit of your stomach…

Yn! Eat lunch, you silly girl! Eat—

“He could just be away from his phone,” you muttered to yourself. There were a few app notifications waiting for you, but each dismissal was fueled with mild disappointment.

Who were you talking about, he wondered.

A flash of bitter annoyance pierced his chest at the memory of who you'd been texting last night with that big smile on your face. However, any of that sentiment was dashed clean away when you pulled up your text chain with him, not Lee Chan.

Changmin's heart sped to a gallop as he watched you swipe out just as quickly as you'd checked in. The reason was two-pronged: one, you were wondering about him; and two, you had texted him while he was currently asleep and he did not know how to wake himself up.

Ji Changmin, he chastised himself, you're not only intruding, you're also inadvertently ignoring her.

He could understand that he put you (and abandoned you) in a worrisome place last night. If he could tear out the strands of his fried, blond hair he would.

You were his friend, were you not? He cared about you, and this soul bond wasn't only stressful to him, but to you as well. Maybe ignorance really would have been bliss in this case.

Your phone emitted a low vibration as it rang. Changmin had missed the moment you decided to call someone. Juyeon's contact name and photo was displayed in the middle of the screen, and he answered before the call went to voicemail. “Yn, what's up? You're—you’re not mad about last night, are you?” The wince in Juyeon’s voice was audible.

“No, I'm not mad,” you promised him as you leaned your cheek against your palm. “I was just wondering if you know where Changmin is. I texted him an hour ago and he hasn't answered yet—I guess I'm just a little antsy.”

Shuffling, then, “Oh! Changminnie's sleeping. He didn't sleep well last night, so as soon as we came home from practice, he was knocked out.”

Relief made your shoulders sag. “Ah, okay.” A smile, self-deprecating in nature, curled up on your mouth. “No worries then. Thanks, Juyo.”

“No problem. I'll let him know to call you once he wakes up.”

“No, it's okay” —you began putting your materials away— “have you had lunch yet? I can swing by with food; I haven't eaten yet.”

“Really? I haven't eaten yet, and Changmin hasn't either. I'll split the cost with you.” Changmin wished he could say that he would also split the cost. Why were you coming over? He hadn't gotten a good look at the texts you sent before.

(It had to be because you wanted to see him, right? To talk—of course to talk and not for any other reason.)

You stood up from your chair and stretched out the stiff muscles in your back. “I'll be by in—maybe twenty or thirty minutes?”

“Sounds great!” Juyeon chirped. “Thanks Yn-ie. See you in a bit.”

You let out a small laugh. “Yeah, see you.”

As the call cut off, Changmin was left with a daunting task: to wake himself up. There didn't seem to be many options as to do this. If demonic dreaming was activated based on lack of control, that meant he had a lack of energy. Thus, if he couldn't yet regain control, it could only mean that he was still tired.

There were a great many things that he had yet to figure out about this kind of magic. It wasn't like his mother ever anticipated he would need to know about it, so she never explicitly taught it and he never asked.

He was kicking himself in the head now.

Meanwhile, you had busied yourself with getting ready to leave. You'd selected a jacket from your closet, swiped on a thin layer of lip gloss, and spritzed yourself with that divine-smelling perfume. It made his toes curl and his chest feel fuzzy.

Just as you were filling your purse, your phone jolted with an incoming call.

Changmin soured as he saw the caller ID through your eyes and felt, not disdain, but pleasant surprise. He couldn't fathom what you saw in Lee Chan, but he never said anything; you and Chan knew each other longer, after all. It wasn't his place to say anything, especially when his reason revolved around something as subjective as a “vibe.”

“Hi Chan,” you greeted when you accepted the call.

It was funny—a dull, but annoyingly familiar pulsing appeared in Changmin's head. It beat steady against his cranium, hard and relentless. The longer it continued, the more it hurt. Could you feel it, too? The sensation was recognizable at this point after so many instances of the random headaches popping up. Was he seriously getting another stupid headache during a dream?

He winced to himself, but suddenly felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach when he heard you audibly grimace.

Was this headache yours or his? Should he be worried?

“What was that? Are you okay?” asked Chan from the other side.

Changmin/You clenched your jaw as your vision went spotty for a moment. Your hand whipped out to catch yourself against the table.

Panic seized his chest as you muttered out a reassurance, though unconvincing. The invisible string that tied Changmin to you tightened, stealing the breath right out of his lungs. It was as if his own physical body was yanking him back.

He was waking up.

No, he thought, no I need to make sure she's okay—

Distantly, he heard yours and Chan's voices. Your words between one another were muddied and distorted to Changmin. Before he could even begin to understand what was happening, his eyes opened.

“I could smell lunch through the door,” Juyeon sang to you in greeting as he eagerly beckoned you into the apartment.

You chuckled, shucking your shoes off under the rack by the door. In your hand, you held onto a large bag containing a box of delectably fragrant fried chicken and fries. Oh, glorious sodium and cholesterol. “Yeah, well, imagine my suffering as I was driving over here with it in the car,” you mused.

Juyeon locked the door behind you and took the bag out of your hands.

It was another thing to return to the site of last night's ritual. You'd been in this apartment dozens of times before, but it was difficult to look at the specific spot on the living room floor where the chalk and salt had been. Even if the vacuum cleaner had taken care of all that remained, you couldn't help but choose to sit on the end of the couch farthest from that spot on the floor.

“Oh, could I get a glass of water, by the way?” you asked Juyeon as the two of you began taking things out of the bag to lay them out on the coffee table. “I was feeling a bit lightheaded earlier.”

Juyeon's eyebrows creased as he straightened to head into the kitchen. “Shit, yeah—of course. You drove here while feeling like that? What if you passed out, Yn-ie?”

You snuck a fry into your mouth, murmuring your thanks as he handed you the cup of water. “I'm fine,” you insisted with a vague wave of your hand, “it was just the blood rushing up to my head, I think. And besides, you were already expecting me and I was hungry.”

“I would have woken Changmin up and dragged his ass out of bed.” Juyeon settled onto the couch with you and cracked open the can of Sprite he'd gotten out of the fridge. “You know, Changmin's been getting these random headaches, too. I guess not exactly nausea, but you guys have gotta be more careful,” he waved a fried potato at you as he said this.

The irony could not escape you, and you failed to keep a sarcastic smile to yourself. Uh huh. Be more careful, you say? Too late for that. You took a ginger sip of the water. “Is that right? Maybe he just needs more sleep or something.”

“That's what we thought at first,” Juyeon hummed, idly scratching the back of his neck, “but they happen no matter what he does. There's not really a noticeable pattern.”

You wondered if it had anything to do with his demoness. You couldn't be too sure because you hardly knew anything about his species yourself, but that could explain the seemingly randomness of the headaches. Perhaps it was another question to add to your list.

“Huh.” You frowned. “Well, I hope they go away for him soon.”

Juyeon nodded solemnly. “Yeah, same. Hyunjae's gonna bring over some matcha for him to try… oh, hey! You like matcha—do you want some?”

“Sure, I'd love—”

Your phone buzzed violently in your jacket pocket. A laugh of disbelief flew from your mouth when you saw the caller ID, and you flashed the screen at Juyeon. “Speak of the Devil.”

Juyeon chuckled as you answered. “Hello?”

“Hey, I'm so sorry I missed your text.” His voice, rough from sleep, was accompanied by heavy breathing and the sounds of fabric shuffling in your ear.

You nearly choked, but you remembered that Juyeon was none the wiser to the weird spike in your heartbeat, nor the reason for it. “It's all good; I was being impatient. Juyo said you didn't sleep well.” Your eyes darted to his closed bedroom door and wondered why he hadn't come out yet.

“Yeah.” A brief pause. “Are you—are you okay?”

“Of course, I'm okay,” you drawled, glancing over at Juyeon. “Why? Should I not be okay?”

“No, I mean—” His voice in your ear and behind his bedroom door overlapped one another like two ocean waves colliding along the sand. His door ripped open.

Changmin stood on the threshold with his phone in one hand and the other clutching the doorknob. He was in a loose white T-shirt and sweatpants, a thin layer of sweat making his cheekbones shine. His eyes, a wild creature of their own, landed on you—all of the tension in his body melted away.

He exhaled and sank against the doorframe, ending the call. “Hell…” he muttered under his breath as he dragged a hand through his hair.

Concern had you rising to your feet. “What? What's wrong?”

Changmin closed his bedroom door behind him and collapsed onto the couch somewhere between you and Juyeon. “Bad dream,” he grunted. “How much are we splitting?” The latter was asked as he shoved a fry into his mouth and pulled out the Venmo app on his phone.

You and Juyeon exchanged glances over the blond head: what just happened?; you think I know?

Juyeon sent you a shrug. “Well Yn?”

Now their focus was on you. You took your seat again and reached for your glass of water. “Ten bucks each.”

All of the food that you brought turned into crumbs faster than Cinderella's carriage at midnight. Considering all three of you had barely eaten all day, it was expected. At some point, Juyeon dipped out of the apartment to meet someone for a group project, so that left you and Changmin alone. It was the perfect opportunity to get what you came here for.

“You left pretty abruptly last night,” you said to him as you returned to the couch with a full glass of water. Changmin stood nearly opposite to you, his back against the wall by his bedroom door. He also nursed a cup of water. “And I have some questions.”

He let out a small laugh, his lips pressing his dimples into his cheeks. “I'm sure you do. Sorry, I realized that after I left,” he admitted and raised his free hand up to grab the back of his neck. “So shoot.”

It was strange, you thought. There was no way this guy could be a demon, but was that leaning into stereotype? Last night, that feeling you got when he looked at you from beneath the shadow of his cap… your hairs had stood on their ends and you couldn't shake the spike of adrenaline in your bloodstream. It had been undeniable.

But here he was with a pretty, boyish smile as if he was a completely different person.

“What did you mean by 'intercept the call?’ What exactly happened during the ritual last night?” you asked.

The smile slipped from his face a little, and his eyes flitted over to the spot you had been sitting twelve hours ago. “Like I said,” he began, “you opened a line to Hell—like a phone call, basically. I channeled enough energy to answer it before anyone else from Hell could. And instead of, y'know, appearing in front of you like another demon would, I was already there and just chose to stay quiet when the candles went out.”

You straightened. “So the breeze in the room was your doing?”

Changmin cocked his head to the side with a wince. “I think so? At least, I can't control it yet. Think of it as a physical manifestation of power.”

A physical manifestation of power—you imagined last night's scene from Changmin's point of view, where he stood in the far corner. He would have focused his energy toward the breach between the worlds, and that fulfillment swept through the room like a gust of wind. But then what about all the other times? That moment wasn't the only other instance of a cool breeze on your skin.

When you brought this up to him, Changmin pressed his lips together. “Ah. This?”

On cue, something lightweight and cool brushed past your cheek. Your hand darted up to cover it, and you looked over at Changmin who arched a brow at you. “You get creepier and creepier the more I know you.”

His mouth burst at the seams with a smile. He ducked his blond head, shaking it. You were missing some kind of joke here. “Don't speak too soon,” he said. When he raised his head back up, he ran his tongue over his smile. “It happens when I want it to, it happens when I don't want it to. Just depends.”

“Great.”

“I'll get it under control,” he promised.

You leaned forward onto your knees and pressed your mouth into a slight pout. “Is there anything I can do to bug the shit out of you? This seems like it's only entertaining for you.”

“Well,” Changmin shrugged helplessly, “that's kind of the point of why demons started to do this. They find humans entertaining, and they also like to hold them accountable. The line” —he gave a gentle tug at the invisible string you still couldn't find— “is an insurance policy.”

“Saying it like that just implies it's that much harder to work your way around it.”

“Pretty much.” A grin split his face, and you were struck by the ease you smiled back without having meant to. “Don't look too excited now.”

You flattened your face and voice. “I'm thrilled.”

Before Changmin could respond, you suddenly remembered the main question that plagued you last night. You cleared your throat, your fingers dancing around the sides of your glass. “By the way… why didn't you stop us last night?” You watched his facial expression and how it was carefully knitted into something blank. “If you knew what was going to happen, you could have insisted we stopped, and we would have. Why let us get to this point?” you asked, gesturing between the two of you.

Changmin's throat bobbed as he swallowed. “I was pretty confident that I could intercept it, so there wasn't any real risk with doing the ritual if you guys wanted to have fun. I just didn't count on…” He lifted his right hand, where the pinkish scar was left on his index finger.

He hadn't counted on you getting cut and sealing the bond.

You pinched the space between your eyes. “Ah. My clumsiness has now doomed me to be metaphysically handcuffed to you.”

“I wasn't going to say it…”

“Oh, go to Hell.”

Changmin laughed. “Only if you come with me.”

Heat rushed to the surface of your skin. Sometimes, his mouth moved too fast. You snuck a glance at him through your fingers while he sipped on his water. If you peered close enough, the tips of his ears were flushing to a light pink.

He lowered the glass from his lips, and a crease formed between his brows. “Also,” he said carefully, his tone starkly different from less than a minute ago, “I do have another side effect to add to the list.”

Your stomach flipped. Not another thing—

“I may or may not be able to occupy your physical body when I'm dreaming—”

Changmin grimaced as the bottom of your glass banged against the wooden coffee table. That expression only deepened at the wide-eyed fury—fear—on your face. “And when I was asleep earlier,” he continued on, dooming himself to walk the plank, “I kind of intruded on your reading session, and when you called Juyeon, and when Chan call—”

“Can I murder you? Would that harm me in any way?” you cut in.

His mouth was open, but no words were coming out.

You stood, abandoning your seat on the couch and your water glass, to step across the room toward him. “Because if I could,” you said while pressing the back of your knuckles to your lips, “I can rid myself of the absolute creep of a friend I have!”

Changmin's eyes widened as soon as it hit him—your hand. Your hand hit his shoulder.

He bolted.

“Hey, let's talk about this, Yn-ah!” he exclaimed and dove into the kitchen to duck behind the counter. Some monstrously high-pitched scream left his mouth as he scrambled to stay out of your reach.

“We are talking about this, Changmin-ah.” You charged after him, chasing him around the counter and back out of the kitchen. If you didn't respect Juyeon like you did, you would have fully embraced becoming a bull in a china shop.

Your fist hit the solid plane of his bedroom door just as it slammed in your face. You let out a sound suspiciously close to a growl. “You possessed my body without my consent!”

“It's not like I consented to it either! It just happened!”

“That's not a valid excuse, you panini head!”

“I don't want to possess your body!” he insisted through the door with his voice going higher than the Eiffel Tower. “Why would I want to possess your body? I don't wanna be around when you and bestie Lee Chan gush about Star Trek.”

On certain occasions you really wished you had Superman's laser vision. Then you could burn through this stupid piece of door and roast a demon. “You're not helping yourself, Ji.”

A beat passed. “Look,” he huffed. “It only happened because I was exhausted as shit, okay? I really had no control of it, I swear on my life.”

You remained still with your arms braided across your chest without a word coming to mind.

“I didn't see anything sensitive, I promise, and my body woke me up and pulled me out of it when you got that really bad headache.”

Huh? That bout of lightheadedness… was that related to how the connection was severed? Or at least, hindered? You brushed the curiosity aside; weren't you supposed to be mad at this guy?

“Which was also why I was worried when I woke up and asked if you were okay,” he added in earnest. He did look worried like you were going to die when he woke up…

You glared impetuously at the closed door to the point you were sure even the wood grains were two seconds from apologizing to you. “Okay, fine,” you relented. “But you're not fully off the hook; I just won't use the kitchen knives.”

A choking sound filtered through and you felt the corners of your mouth tug upward.

“What can I do to make it even?” Changmin asked, though he continued to remain behind the closed door.

Frankly, there weren't many things he could do to even the score unless you chose to be creepy and sit in on his private moments. You shuddered—you’d rather not. Those were private for a reason. Maybe he could burn his eyes out with bleach. (Kidding… ish.) “I don't know,” you said half-heartedly, ”tell me a secret.”

A moment of silence passed. “I thought it was hot when you asked if you could kill me.”

Not even an ounce of shame with this one, huh? “You're sick. I'm leaving.”

For the second time today, his bedroom door ripped open. “No, wait, I was kidding! Yn, I was kidding.” (He was not kidding).

You stopped, half-whirled around. In your periphery, he stepped out of his room, but refrained from getting too close. When you turned around fully, the red that dusted his cheekbones was unmistakable. Unfortunately, seeing him flustered was enough for you at the moment.

With a feigned, heavy sigh, you motioned to him. “C'mere.”

Changmin perked up like a confused puppy.

“Come here,” you repeated with more urgency this time. You curled your hand toward you to beckon him closer.

He crept closer to you. There was a gleam of uncertainty and suspicion in his eyes as you continued to gesture at him closer… and closer still. Your heart throttled against your ribcage; your physical body was even unsure of what exactly you had in mind.

Only once his face was close enough you could count his eyelashes were you satisfied. You could hear him gulp.

And maybe you let the moment linger too long. His gaze flickered away from your eye contact for a heartbeat, eyelashes fluttering as he considered something out of the bounds of friendship.

You raised your hand up to his forehead and flicked him between his eyes. Hard.

Changmin yelped and fumbled backward to the boisterous sound of your laughter. He rubbed his forehead furiously where an angry, red mark formed and smarted. He snarled at you, “Not cool!” His face was nearly as red as the mark… oops.

“That's what you get!” you countered with an accusing finger. “Now. Promise me you'll never purposely possess my body in your dreams, you perv.”

A grumble came from the depths of his throat—agreement. “I never did it on purpose,” he mumbled, slapping his hand with yours in a binding handshake. He sounded like a teen boy who's gaming console was just taken away.

“And promise me that you will take care of yourself, so that we can get out of this binding thing and so that you don't accidentally possess me.”

“Didn't you offer to get possessed last night?” Changmin stiffened as the words left his lips. “I didn't mean that! Don't get the kitchen knives!”

His giggles pierced the air, sharp but endearing, as he scrambled back into his room with you clinging to his heels. “Or get the kitchen knives—it’s kind of hot.”

“Ji Changmin.”

PART III: THE RELATIVE

WHEN YOU APPEARED IN YOUR 8:30 biopsychology lecture on Monday morning, you had nearly forgotten that the world had not completely turned upside down when you bound your soul to Changmin’s. No one else but you and he knew about it, and it seemed he was determined to keep it that way. Nonetheless, when you settled in your usual seat about midway up the lecture hall, close to the exit on stage right, you looked into Yeh Shuhua’s terrifyingly beautiful eyes and almost blurted your secret.

It was because of that reason, and the fact that she was one of your close friends. She was one of the participants of the ritual; it was only right that you disclosed to her the consequences of all your actions. However, the reminder from Changmin echoed in your head like a dull heartbeat: Don’t tell any of them. Don’t do something stupid like Hyunjae or Shuhua. He realized that ‘stupid’ applied to him, too, right?

“You seem antsy,” were her first words to you as you finally decided on how you would roll up your jacket. It had taken a couple tries and configurations before you settled on just draping it over the chair behind you.

You straightened in your chair. Perhaps subtlety was not with you this morning. “My coffee was too strong,” you said.

She snorted, a bright and unassuming sound, as she pulled her laptop out from her bag. “Honey, you don’t drink coffee.”

…Right. You let the words sink in to properly register your dumbassery, then settled on the most basic excuse known to college students. “It’s too early for this.”

“Amen.” Conversation saved.

When you first signed up for this class, you were under the impression that it would be a riveting insight into the brain and its inner workings. Alas, your professor from Psych101 did you a disservice by testifying to Psych210’s interest factor, because it was entirely lacking in interesting things. The majority of what was being discussed in lecture could be read about via the slides, but unfortunately, participation was mandatory. Even worse was that this class was the prerequisite to the neuroscience class that was actually interesting.

You didn’t like to critique the teaching skills of a professor who was meant to research and not to teach, but you were going to for the umpteenth time.

Beside you, Shuhua barely swallowed a yawn and hid the last bits of it behind the lid of her coffee tumbler. She took a sip, then leaned over to you. “I’m pretty sure I learned all of this in freshman year biology.”

“Is that right,” you murmured. You hadn’t taken the introductory biology series because you were only minoring in psychology, whereas Shuhua was a neuroscience major. “You must really be suffering then.”

Her head slowly touched down onto your shoulder. “Tell me about it… by the way, did you hear about the house party that’s happening on Saturday?”

You hummed. “Who’s hosting?” House parties were usually something you needed to be a part of a friend group to be invited to. Though, that was usually the case for all parties in college, you’d found out. Fraternity parties were oftentimes exclusive to Greeks, or if you knew a frat brother or sorority sister. Other parties were spread by word of mouth and required an entrance fee that amounted to a fraudulent sum of money. Thus, if you went to any party, it was either a house party hosted by a friend of a friend, or one of your friends’ birthday parties.

“Hm… it’s my family friend’s kid’s friend group.” She paused, then clarified her statement, “Yangyang. You know Yangyang, right?

You made a sound of acknowledgement. “Isn't he friends with Xiaojun, Kevin, and Yuqi, that group?”

“That's the one,” she chirped. “But he only lives with Xiaojun and a couple other guys. It's a house in one of the neighborhoods nearby.”

“I see. Are we going?”

“Of course we are, silly.” Shuhua blindly patted one of your hands and you imagined that her eyes were likely already closed. You and your friends were accustomed to forcing one another to socialize outside the group from time to time; it made the college riptide a bit easier to swim through. “I just didn't know if you were aware or not yet.”

“Well, now I am,” you chuckled.

“You sure are.”

The remainder of the lecture went by as dull as it usually did, and 9:30 could not come faster. You and Shuhua bumbled out of the packed auditorium among the crowd of others filing out.

A yawn stretched your mouth open as you checked your phone. “You've got a class after this, right?” you asked Shuhua.

She nodded. “Unfortunately. Do you wanna have lunch together afterward?”

“Ah” —guilt anchored itself to the pit of your stomach, allowing the urge to spill your secret to dwindle— “I'm actually hanging out with Changmin today.” Neither of you had terribly busy Mondays, so you both decided to do some solution-hunting together, whatever that meant. He just needed to be back by the time his dance rehearsal started.

Her mouth quirked to the side in a slight frown. “Oh, okay. Just you two?”

“Yep.”

For a second, you thought she was gazing right into your soul where the invisible knot was tied linking you to your mutual friend. But she suddenly smiled and blew you a kiss. “No worries! Have fun.”

You blinked, the anxiety lingering. “Yeah… thanks. You, too.”

Shuhua left first to hurry off to her next class while you remained in the lobby. You had fully expected that she would at least ask what the two of you were doing, and you were prepared to come up with another dumb excuse. It wasn't suspicious that you and Changmin were hanging out alone, right? There were plenty of instances where you hung out solo with your close friends.

You brushed it away. It was the paranoia talking.

You headed toward the nearest parking lot. Because you lived relatively close to campus, there was usually no need to drive, but since you and Changmin were going elsewhere in the city, you opted to drive.

As you settled into the front seat, you sent him a text to let you know you were on your way over to his apartment. It would be convenient if you could somehow use the soul-bond to communicate with him instead, you thought as you navigated through campus to a nearby neighborhood. Alas, based on what Changmin told you before, the bond was more useful to him than it was for you. How wonderful.

You let your car run as you pulled up to the curb outside of his apartment complex. Through the windows on the first floor, a periwinkle sheen caught your eye. There wasn’t much doubt in your mind that it was the ribbon Changmin tied to his bicycle. It was his favorite color—not that you knew that for any particular reason, other than the fact that you were friends. It was useful information for birthday cards, was your reasoning.

Before you could meander down some weird mental road of thoughts, the passenger side door opened and closed. Your counterpart was dressed in dark green today: dark green sweater, a darker but muted shade of cargo pants, followed by a matching cap shoved over his blond hair. “Hi,” he said, strapping himself in with the seatbelt and setting his bag down by his feet.

He looked particularly pocket-sized today with the cheeky, dimpled smile on his face and you smiled in greeting. “Hi!” you chirped back. “Where to?”

“An aunt of mine lives downtown. Do you know how to get to Union Station?”

You nodded, tugging the car into drive, “Yup. Wow, she lives down by the waterfront?”

“Yeah,” he laughed. When he did, he ducked his head so you only caught a glimpse of that dimpled smile. “She’s married to a siren.”

Your eyes went wide, and his laugh grew louder. You flattened your expression into a deadpan as heat rushed to the back of your neck. “Don’t laugh,” you muttered. “Why are you laughing?”

“I’d say for you to not pout then, but it’s cute,” he replied with that smile lingering on his face in the form of a half-smirk. He had pulled his phone out to text someone. “I’m only laughing because I had a feeling you’d react like that, and I was right.”

You huffed. “I feel like I’m at too much of a disadvantage around you.”

“You have more power than you think.” Changmin passed you a glance and deposited his phone in the cupholder. He leaned his cheek against his knuckles. “You just need to exercise it.”

“Well, I can’t exactly threaten you with kitchen knives and forehead flicks all the time.”

He shrugged. “That’s not what I meant, but it’s whatever. How was class?”

Changmin, Juyeon, and Hyunjae were all aware of yours and Shuhua’s disdain for your shared biopsychology class. The complaints had filed (flooded) in as soon as the first week of classes were over. You could gab on and on about the boredom that plagued you, but you hardly wanted to be a broken record when there were other things to talk about. “It was fine,” you said, then swiftly moved to something else. “I think I almost told Shuhua, like, twice about the soul bond thing. Why can’t we tell them again?”

“Do you really think they’d believe us?”

You thought about it—about the twin cuts on your index fingers, the unseen string that tethered your souls together, the dream that Changmin had. They would think Changmin had roped you into his regular shenanigans, and in a way, he had. You sighed, albeit reluctantly. “True. But it just feels…” you grimaced. “Is it weird that I feel guilty?”

Changmin shook his head. “No, I’ve had to tiptoe around my mom’s and my true nature around you guys for years. It’s natural to wanna be truthful to your friends, Yn, but some things are better left unsaid.”

“Is there a reason why the supernatural community stays hidden? Is that something I can ask?”

“Of course,” he said easily, turning his gaze out the window. “It’s just that it’s better—safer—for us this way. Humans can hardly handle differences amongst themselves as it is; imagine what would happen if they found that even more species of sentient beings existed, y’know?”

Truth was a difficult pill to swallow. It was a capsule that often found itself lodged in a throat rather than being digested. And even if it eventually managed to make it to the stomach, it sank to the bottom like a body anchored by bricks in a river. There was, unfortunately, much merit to what Changmin said.

Your eyes flickered to your side mirrors as you merged onto the highway. “I see.”

“It’s definitely relieving that at least one of my close friends knows the truth now, though.” He knocked the back of his hand against your arm in a warm gesture, and although you were unable to return the expression or even look at him then, he was looking at you.

Because you and Changmin set off just after rush hour passed, the drive through the downtown scene was relatively easy. The rest of your time in the car was spent chatting about the party Yangyang and his housemates were throwing, as well as Changmin directing you to his aunt’s residence by the marina. His ability to give directions left much to be desired; your car was filled with shouts and bickering whenever he told you to turn too late.

Somehow though, you arrived at the right street, and he even helped you find a parking spot along a curb that didn’t involve ungodly hourly parking rates. You wouldn’t call it a complete redemption, but he was on his way toward one.

“Are you sure it’s cool if we just show up unannounced like this?” you asked him, tilting your head back to peer up at the apartments that towered above you. Some of the windows were left open and their curtains drifted whimsically in the mid-morning breeze; some of the fire escapes were connected by copper-colored ladders, fitting together like a puzzle. You liked to think that complexes like this housed residents who were friendly to one another like some fantasy video game—a pair of friends hanging out of their windows to gossip across the fire escapes, a cat sleeping in the window—that sort of thing.

Changmin stood next to you, but his gaze was turned out to the marina in the distance, the sails of boats in the foreground of the slate blue-gray of the bay water. “Yeah, it’s cool. And we’re not exactly unannounced; I told her we were coming.”

“When?” You followed him in through the front door. The hinges squealed upon use and the door shuddered violently when it closed.

“In the car.”

You deadpanned at his back as you followed him up the stairs. “You’re an awful relative.”

“Don’t all relatives show up to their other relatives' homes unannounced?” he jested. “I’m a model nephew, actually.”

“A model in what standard? Hell?”

He shrugged up ahead, glancing back to pass you a boyish grin. “Yeah, basically. My mom says demons just kind of teleport into their relatives’ homes unannounced.”

“So that’s where your incredible lack of boundaries comes from,” you said and glowered up at him.

You met Changmin on the landing of the second floor and ducked out of the stairwell into the dimly-lit corridor. It was quiet here in the middle of the day, but you could hear the muffled sounds of television programs and voices emanating behind different doors you passed by. The carpet was well-trodden and didn’t kick dust up when you walked, and the overall smell was vaguely fishy and reminiscent of the seafood section of a supermarket.

“Cultural difference,” he replied cheekily. “This is hers, Aunt Jenna’s.” He gestured to the door he stood at with a rusted, gold B29 hanging on its surface just above the peephole.

You tucked your hands into your jacket pockets. “Anything I should know before going in?”

Changmin paused and his face flashed with realization. It translated roughly, but accurately enough, to ‘Uh oh.’ He opened his mouth to say something, but the door beat him to it.

Correction: his aunt beat him to it. Or at least, she was who you assumed was his aunt. Her facial features and bone structure weren't similar to Changmin’s at all, but those eyes—dark like the deepest corner of a shadow; engulfing, embracing, enveloping—her eyes were what made familiarity pang in your chest where the soul-knot sat.

Her mouth stretched into a bright smile. “Changmin-ah! And his significant other, isn’t it—or kids these days say partner instead, hm? Don’t be strangers now; come in, come in!”

What did she just say? You have got to be kidding me.

Too overwhelmed to think, you let his aunt usher you and Changmin in through her front door. You threw—chucked—an alarmed glance over at your counterpart, who could only meet your wide eyes with his own. Shoes were exchanged for slippers, and you were guided toward a couch settled in one part of the cozy living space.

“It’s nice to meet you, Aunt Jenna,” you finally managed to say through the heat flaring up your neck and behind your ears. “But I do have to, uhm, correct you.”

Changmin coughed beside you on the couch as his aunt perched on the coffee table across from you both. “She’s not my romantic partner, auntie. Yn’s just a friend.”

You nodded earnestly.

His aunt’s face flickered from that sunny smile to a more somber surprise. She broke into a sheepish sort of laugh, absentmindedly brushing a lock of hair behind her shoulder. “Oh, well how silly of me. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable—I got embarrassingly excited,” she confessed. She addressed Changmin specifically, reaching over to whack his knee, “You used the word for lover when you texted me earlier!”

Changmin’s hands rocketed up as both you and his aunt fixed him with pointed looks. “It was a typo and an honest mistake,” he swore. “I haven’t spoken or written in that demonic dialect in awhile,” he said to you, “and the words for friend and lover are, like, one letter different.”

His mouth had pursed into an unconscious pout, and you reached over to flick him between the eyes. Bone against fingernail, and the dense thunk sound the impact produced was quite satisfying.

“Ow! I'm sorry!”

You turned to a rather amused Aunt Jenna. “I'm sorry I did that in front of you. I swear, I won't make a habit out of it.” That remained to be seen, however. How had you refrained from flicking him for his behavior before this?

She chuckled. “I'm sure he's warranted it more than once. It's nice to meet you, Yn.”

“Likewise. You have a lovely home.”

Changmin held his forehead with his hat now sitting in his lap, and his eyes narrowed at the two of you. “This was the worst idea I've ever had.”

“Do you drink tea, Yn?” his aunt asked you, waving aside her nephew's comment. “I'll make us some tea and we can talk about whatever you both came to discuss.”

Tea was served on an elegant tray made of polished dark wood. The color was a deep red, as if it had been dipped in a vat of blood, and was engraved with images of what you assumed to be flowers with long stems crowned with big, beautiful petals. You nursed a Finding Nemo mug between your palms, gently blowing on the steam that wafted out of the aromatic floral tea.

Just the fragrance of the drink was enough to put you at ease. The muscles and knots in your shoulders loosened, your frown lines smoothed over. You took a gentle sip and savored the tangible warmth that streamed down your throat and into your stomach.

You nodded to Aunt Jenna who's dark eyes gleamed knowingly over the rim of her mug. “That's very good,” you said.

“Isn't it? Would you like to take some home?”

Changmin harrumphed from beside you after taking a hulking gulp of his own drink. “Guys, please.”

“Mm yes, yes.” Aunt Jenna waved her free hand flippantly. “Your problem.”

While Jenna had prepared the tea, you and Changmin explained to her how your souls became tied together. Most of the explanation consisted of specific details of the ritual itself, not the circumstances before. You described the physical sensations on your end, and Changmin added in his out-of-body experience.

When your piece was said, it left Aunt Jenna to marinate on all the facts. She took a sip of her drink first. “Well, you're both fools, but you” —she wiggled an accusing finger at her nephew— “especially. How could you be so irresponsible as to let your friends go through with a bargaining ritual?”

Changmin grabbed the back of his neck and hung his head like a kicked puppy. “It didn't seem like the end of the world if they wanted to have fun.”

“I suppose,” Jenna muttered, but not without some sympathy. She was a demon living amongst humans, too, after all. “But look where that's gotten you both. There are just far too many unforeseen variables that could have made this situation ten times worse. You and Yn becoming soul-bound is probably the best outcome, frankly.”

You would beg to differ, but you kept your lips stitched together and attached to the rim of your mug.

“But as for undoing it, I'm afraid there aren't many options.”

You detached your mouth from the mug.

You and Changmin exchanged a glance with one another. He asked, “What are our options?”

Aunt Jenna's mouth pursed slightly to form small divots in the sides of her cheeks. “The one most accessible to you is to bargain with another, more powerful demon to take over your bond with Yn.”

“Absolutely not,” he interjected. “That's out of the question.”

“I guessed as much,” she said, taking another sip. “Then it's quite literally impossible—unless you used cursed magic—but even if you didn't care about facing the hellish consequences, gaining access to a Book of the Diabolical is insanely difficult.”

Though you were completely ignorant to almost everything Aunt Jenna was saying, you weren't so ignorant to her message between the lines: you were fucked. Supremely.

Looking over at Changmin only confirmed what you were thinking. There seemed to be a war being waged behind his eyes as he clutched his mug in his lap and glared at a grain in the hardwood floor. This situation was partially your fault and his, and now, the only thing you could do was to drown in the consequences.

You turned to his aunt. “Then how can we live with it?” In your periphery, Changmin's head raised. “I mean, are there techniques to better control this situation, like on both Changmin's end and my end if we can't simply rid ourselves of it?”

Aunt Jenna considered you for a moment, then nodded slowly. “There are,” she said. “Control is something very valuable to demons, Yn. I don't know how much Changmin's told you—”

You sent him a thin smile.

“—but mastering your own body is one of the most integral things young demons first learn. If you don't have control over your mind and body, then how could you possibly be trusted to control anything else?”

That made sense, you thought. It was a thoughtful principle, too, that others (humans) could learn from. What other parts of demon culture and values were there that these two would be willing to share with you?

Jenna had finished her cup of tea by now and set her empty mug back onto the tray. “So the easiest way, I think, to safeguard yourselves against one another is to strengthen your minds.”

What exactly Aunt Jenna had in mind was meditation. Because you were human and couldn't exactly perform the same demonic energy rituals and mind exercises that Jenna and Changmin could, meditation was the next best group activity. In order to do this, Jenna shut all of the curtains and sealed the living room off from the outside world. The coffee table and sofa were shoved to the edges of the room, while the empty space was occupied by three bath towels and a Bath and Body Works candle.

It was reminiscent of the ritual from That Night, but your heart rate sat a little more stable with the belief that you were in capable hands this time.

The three of you arranged yourselves in a loose triangle around the lit candle, its small flame shuddering at the force of your breaths.

“You can place your hands wherever you're most comfortable,” Aunt Jenna said lowly, softly—a vocal embodiment of the small head of fire upon the candle. “Sit up straight, close your eyes, and breathe in deep… let the darkness envelope you.”

There weren't many moments when you considered yourself petty, salty, or bitter. But at this very moment, you were most certainly all three at once.

“Are you really still mad that you fell asleep?” The question was posed with as much audacity as there was incredulity in his voice.

You didn't have to direct your glaring eyes at Changmin for him to feel the edge. “It was embarrassing,” you grumbled.

“Aw, it's okay. Not everyone has the mental fortitude to meditate.”

And you do? you wanted to snap back like a five year old. Instead, you tightened your grip on the steering wheel and focused on not steering the two of you off the road. “I will literally ditch you on the highway.”

He leaned his head against the window to watch you with a twinkle in his eyes and a toothy grin on his lips. “And I will literally haunt you in your sleep.”

The pair of you were in the car driving back up to the university. You had just left Aunt Jenna's about fifteen minutes ago after the failed meditation session (for you) and her insisting you both stayed for lunch. With your stomachs full and your heads quite literally empty, there was nothing left to do but to return home.

There had been a moment before you both left when Jenna pulled Changmin aside to have a private conversation. You had lingered outside the apartment door, but couldn't hear anything despite it being left slightly ajar. There must have been some crazy soundproofing done on her apartment. A charm, perhaps?

But when Changmin came to join you, you picked up the tail end of their talk. It had to do with Changmin pleading with her not to tell his mom about what happened; Aunt Jenna would only agree if he promised to babysit her kids next week.

That thought made you smile to yourself even through the cloud of salty pettiness in your vision. What was Changmin like around kids? The guy was rather childish himself, but… you wouldn't deny that he would probably be good—

“What are you smiling about?” he mused as he peered out from under the brim of his cap. He reclined his seat back a little and crossed his arms over his chest, settling himself in for the ride back.

You scoffed and forced the smile away. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

He hummed. “Methinks it was about me,” he teased and tugged his cap further over his eyes so even his mouth was barely visible. At your silence, he murmured, “Also, I hope you're not bothered about earlier.”

“Hm?”

“I mean—the fact that you weren't able to meditate. And,” he added quickly, “I'm not trying to make fun of you. It's just that that was the only way Aunt Jenna could think that you could safeguard yourself against me. I'm gonna be really good about this, Yn, I swear. I don't—y’know, I don't want anything to change between us.”

Ah. Well, since his hat was over his eyes, you allowed your smile to slip back into place. The weight in your chest was warm, a comforting sort of tightness. You were gradually getting more accustomed to its presence, and at this particular moment, you were glad to be aware of it.

“I believe you,” you said to him. “And I don't want anything to change between us either.” You were friends before the ritual, and you would continue to be friends after it.

You were content with being accompanied by your thoughts and the radio for the remainder of the ride. Your companion in the passenger seat had drifted to sleep at some point when the highways began to grow rather congested with the early afternoon traffic. Changmin had a dance rehearsal in a couple hours, which gave some leeway as to what time you needed to get him back by.

By the time you hit the university district, the sun perched lower in a sky spotted with cirrus clouds, wispy and drifting in the autumn breeze. The filter it cast over the world was a mute gold, warm.

Changmin peered out his side window as you navigated through the busy streets, his face nearly pressed up against the glass because his cap was turned around. There was far too much foot traffic at three in the afternoon, but it was unfortunately a popular time to be out and about for students on a Monday. “Could you drop me off at the sandwich shop on the corner over there?” he asked suddenly, his voice gravelly from disuse. He inclined his chin further down the block, and you had enough time to switch lanes.

“Yeah, sure,” you murmured, glancing over at him. “You don’t want me to drop you off straight at the dance hall?”

“Nah, I’ve got a couple hours, so I think I’m gonna get another bite to eat first.” He rummaged around in the bag at his feet, double checking that he had brought along everything he needed. “D’you wanna…” His voice trailed off as he turned his head up toward you.

You hummed in question and furrowed your brows in concentration to direct your car into a parking spot along the curb.

“Did you wanna come in with me? I don’t know what your plans are after this.” Changmin had one foot out the door, but the rest of his body remained here with you, in the car, as if hesitant to leave just yet. With the brim of his cap turned around, you could better see his face, the hair pushed out of his dark eyes. There was a small smile seated upon his lips, hopeful in the way it curved into his cheeks in the way you always found slightly endearing.

Your hand lingered by your seatbelt. What were your plans after this? Nothing, right? “I mean, if you don—”

“Yn, is that you?”

The voice and the interruption elicited similar jolts from both of you. Your head whipped around on instinct to locate the person who had called out to you.

Crossing the street to you now was Lee Chan. He had his backpack slung over his shoulder, and he waved a hand at you when he caught your eye. But they flickered away from you to someone behind you—Changmin straightened to his full height, his head appearing over the roof of the car.

You glanced back at your counterpart. That smile, so boyish and innocent, had grown an edge.

“Thanks for the ride, Yn,” Changmin said to you, ducking his head to address you. He reached into the car so he could clasp your hand, his fingers clutching yours as he stole your gaze away… they lingered. “I’ll talk to you later, hm?”

You nodded, unsure why you were so dumbfounded. “Yeah, sure,” you stammered out. “I had fun today.”

“Same.” And there was that smile again. It wasn’t exactly the same, but it had softened out at the corners. With a final raise of his hand, he shut your passenger door and jogged off toward the shop.

You blinked as air suddenly filled your lungs again. Had you been holding your breath the whole time? You forgot to wish him a good rehearsal.

A knock on your window had you swiveling your head around. Chan grinned as you rolled your window down. “Hey, what’ve you been up to?”

Not a mention of Changmin, you noted. You were aware of Changmin and Chan’s dislike for one another, and though it caused you a torrent of internal conflict, there was nothing that you could do about it. If they were unwilling to talk about it with each other or with you, then there was no use. Both of them were important figures in your life, so it was just as important that you could keep them both—was that selfish? It seemed that they were able to somewhat coexist, however, if they participated on the same dance team. How did that even work out?

“I was out with Changmin for most of the day,” you said. “We were just… y’know, visiting a relative of his downtown.” There was no harm in saying that, right?

Chan’s expression didn’t even shudder. “Oh? I didn’t know he had relatives downtown.”

Of course, you didn’t. You appreciated that he tried to be civil about Changmin around you, but sometimes the pretense was more aggravating than the petty disdain. “Yeah, they were really nice. We drank tea and chatted a bit.”

“Glad it was a chill time,” he smiled. “Ah, speaking of—I was wondering if you wanted to go visit Chaeyoung noona with me sometime this week? I've been trying to figure out the best time to go see her before midterms.”

You brightened at the mention of Chan's older sister. Though his parents had passed away before Chan graduated high school, he was supported mostly by his older sister, Chaeyoung. You'd heard and seen for yourself the chronic illness that she was cursed with, however. There had been a decent stretch in time when her situation looked much better, but recently, she had been forced back into long-term care at the hospital.

“Yeah, definitely! It'll be nice to see her after so long. Just text me and let me know what day you decide.” The last time you saw Chaeyoung was probably at the start of the past summer break when you went home to see your parents with Chan. Though you and Chan were around the same age, he acted more as an older brother figure to you, likely because of Chaeyoung's good influence.

The golden hour sun glinted its rays into your eyes, and you were reminded of the time. “Oh, don’t you have dance practice soon? Need a ride over?”

“Yeah, I do, but I don’t need a ride,” he said. “I was about to meet Vernon in the cafe down the street though. Do you wanna come with?”

The idea of accepting his invitation crossed your mind, but the ache in your legs and at the nape of your neck were suddenly a lot more prominent than before. You hadn’t even realized how tired you were. “Not this time; I think I'm a little tired. Thanks for the invite, though!”

He pressed his mouth together in slight disappointment, but waved it away with a casual hand motion. “Of course. Drive home safe, then.”

“I will. Have a good time, Chan.”

Chan returned the sentiment back to you, but instead of leaving right away, his lips parted another time. He paused, concern gleaming in his eyes—or was that the setting sun? You couldn’t tell the difference, but there was something he couldn’t quite articulate with words that his facial expression was desperate to reveal to you instead.

You frowned. “Something wrong?”

He let out a small laugh and brushed away the thought. “No, don’t worry about it.”

Are you aware that you've been cursed?

Aunt Jenna's words echoed in Changmin's head ceaselessly throughout the dance rehearsal. They had been subdued slightly when he was asleep in your car earlier, but consciousness tended to surface more nightmares than the unconscious state. Even in the bright light of day, those shadows found a way to creep in and force him into some horrific tunnel vision.

No, he wasn't aware that he'd been cursed. How could he?

Out of everything he thought she pulled him aside for, that was the last thing he expected. The look in her eyes—those dark irises that mirrored his in depth—had been stricken by a grave worry. Those all-knowing eyes, far surpassing his in experience, had taken one look at him coming in through the door and determined something horrible had happened.

A curse?

You haven't been feeling strange lately? She had grasped him by the shoulders, her hands firm in their iron grip. Any strange aches and pains?

The headaches. He told her about the random, spotty headaches that had been plaguing him recently. It hadn't occurred to him at all that they could even be a side effect for a curse.

I've heard some strange things have been going on to the demons in your area. The curse has subsided for now because of your half-humanness, but…

Changmin could fill in the blanks.

His appeal to Aunt Jenna about not telling his mom about any of this included both the soul-bond and the curse. Based on what his aunt told him, there have been demons in this area who have been forced into critical conditions by an energy-stealing curse. That would explain his frequent headaches and his increased exhaustion. Though, the headaches had been on the decline as of late, which coincided with the other part of Jenna's warning.

He was at odds. He couldn't simply sit around and wait for whatever maniac was at large to suddenly stop. He and all the other demons around him were sitting ducks. Worrying about the soul-bond was one thing, but he supposed this now took priority.

Changmin hunched over his bag in one of the darkened corners of the practice room. The lights had been turned down slightly as their four reserved hours drew to a close. It was a hard night, but the sweat, heat, and adrenaline was a delightfully addicting mixture.

Absent-mindedly, he rubbed a palm over his chest. The invisible knot there that linked you to him tightened at the attention. He had made a habit of this over the course of the past few hours; the physical sensation of the string tugging grounded him and kept him from disappearing into his head too much.

Could you feel him on the other end? He was certain you could if he made it obvious. If he tugged just right—

“Ji. I need to talk to you.”

The only sign of surprise Changmin let Lee Chan see was the raising of his eyebrows. “I don't need to talk to you.”

“It's about Yn.”

Changmin's movements froze. He let go of his bag's strap and zippers with a sigh, then straightened up to meet Chan eye to eye. He crossed his arms over his chest. “What about Yn?” You were his problem now, whether you liked it or not.

Chan's eyes narrowed at him, a muscle in his jaw twitching. “I don't know what you think you're doing with her, but you need to stop. It was enough that she's friends with you—”

He couldn't help but scoff. What the fuck is he going on about? Changmin's mouth twisted into an incredulous smirk, the points of his canines peering out from under his lip as he jabbed his tongue into his cheek. “I was wondering when you'd finally drop the Nice Guy act.”

“This isn't about me putting up a front,” Chan quipped in hushed tones. He wouldn't have done so if he wanted to make a scene. “This isn't even about us not liking each other. My problem is that you're roping Yn into your—your fucking bullshit.”

Changmin furrowed his brows. “You're being vague and dramatic, Lee Chan. I really don't have the time or the patience for this.”

“I know who you really are, Ji.” In any other context, those words in that order would have made Changmin bark out a laugh.

Changmin shuddered as he sized up Lee Chan in a different light. It was almost funny how perspective could change everything. In the daylight and bright fluorescents, Chan was a model kid with a charming smile and unshakeable charisma. He cared about you and watched over you like a brother. But without the presence of light was when Changmin was most afraid of what he saw. It was not because he was afraid of the dark—the shadows, frankly, were a demon's ally—it was because the dark did something to Chan in the same way blood infested clear water.

Chan's mouth was set in a firm line, and nothing about his facial expression or stance gave even an inkling that he was bluffing.

“I still have no fucking clue what you're talking about,” Changmin replied lowly, scooping his bag up and brushing past Chan.

He went to find Juyeon. The organ in his chest pumped his blood wickedly fast through his system; the blood thundered in his ears, loud and deafening, like an oncoming train. Aunt Jenna was in his head, you were in his chest, Lee Chan was at his back.

Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom—

He and Juyeon were out the door in a flash, but Changmin glanced backward—because we always turned toward that which was capable of our demise; that was survival instinct—and he flinched when Chan's eyes caught his again.

Changmin let the door slam behind him as he stole into the cold night. If only the darkness could hide him from whatever just happened.

read part two here (if the link isn't there yet, refresh out of this page and it'll be linked at the top)

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dreamwritesimagines · 8 months ago

Text

The Eye of the Hurricane [13] - Cupcakes

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback, you made my day! ❤️I hope you’ll like this chapter as well and please don’t forget to tell me what you think! ❤️

Summary: There are many ways to plan a wedding.

Word Count: 2500

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, stabbing, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language, dysfunctional relationship. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

Apparently, the fact that you had been in a car chase with bullets flying around last night didn’t change the fact that you had to go cake tasting the next morning.

Even if you were in desperate need of some sleep.

Bucky had brought you back into the honeymoon suit last night and put around twenty bodyguards in the hallway before leaving, and even if you wanted to go with him to question the captives, you were way too tired to do so. Since he was nowhere to be found in the suit after you woke up, you figured he had gone to his apartment instead of here after he was done. You heaved a sigh as you filled your cup with coffee, then walked to sit down on the couch and pulled your phone up to check the schedule for the day. Taking a sip of your coffee, you sent a quick text to Becca, and looked over your shoulder when you heard the door open.

Bucky offered you a small smile as he stepped into the hotel suit, and you tilted your head.

“Hey,” you said. “I was wondering where you were.”

“Hey,” he rasped out, exhaustion laced in his tone and you frowned slightly.

“Why do you look like you haven’t slept last night?”

Bucky shook his head, making his way to the coffee pot before grabbing a cup from the cabinet.

“Because I haven’t—” He stopped talking when he looked down at the red fingertip stains on the white porcelain cup he was holding, then cursed under his breath and went to wash his hands in the sink. You took a better look at him, now noticing the blood on his clothes and pulled back slightly.

“Bucky?”

“Not my blood,” he said. “I was uh—we were questioning the guys.”

“The whole night?”

“Mm hm,” he said, wiping his hands with a paper towel before grabbing another cup to pour himself some coffee. You leaned back to the kitchen island, cradling your cup in your palms.

“You should get some rest.”

“No time for that,” he said, taking a huge sip of his coffee. “I’m gonna take a quick shower and go to work. How do you feel? Could you get some sleep last night?”

“Are you trying to divert the subject?”

“Yeah, is it working?”

“No,” you deadpanned. “You need to sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak,” he joked, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Bucky.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said. “Don’t worry about me.”

“I don’t,” you said quickly. “I don’t worry about you as a principle. It’s just that if you get sick because you haven’t slept or whatever, we’ll have to postpone the wedding and I know you haven’t met our wedding planner but she is not the type of person you cross.”

“Noted,” Bucky said. “Do you have any plans today?”

“I’m going cake tasting with Becca,” you said. “So did the guys say anything?”

“One of them will, eventually,” Bucky said. “We’re being very convincing.”

You hummed. “Do you have a preference?”

“In weapons?”

You blinked a couple of times.

“In cakes,” you said. “Flavor wise.”

“Ah,” he said. “Sorry, my mind is still at the warehouse. Anything but banana.”

“Very helpful,” you muttered. “You don’t have a favorite flavor in cakes?”

“Not really, I’m good with all of them—” he started but his phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out, then his eyes skimmed the lines before he let out a groan.

“What?” you asked and he rubbed at his eyes.

“I forgot I had a meeting with Stark,” he said and cleared his throat. “Great, okay. So doing wedding stuff today then?”

“Yeah I gotta take a shower and get ready, but I can wait. You’re the one who looks like a horror movie killer.”

He grinned. “You know, if you ever wanted to save water…”

“You’re about to pass out from exhaustion and you can still make sex jokes?” you asked with your brows raised and he shrugged his shoulders.

“I have my priorities,” he said. “So if you—”

“That will never happen,” you pointed out. “Go.”

He held up his hands.

“Okay, okay…” he said as he climbed the stairs and you shook your head slightly when you heard the bathroom door close.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered, taking another sip of your coffee. “Can’t believe I’m marrying him.”

When you planned this cake tasting with Becca, you were sure it would be fun for you but safe to say, Becca’s mood wasn’t the best after last night. When you first talked about it, you had said Leila could join as well but since she wasn’t here, you could only guess they had a big talk last night, after the car chase incident.

“So,” you said as you sat down and grabbed the nearest cupcake, then read the label that informed you that it was walnut and carrot. “How have you been?”

“Fine,” Becca said, turning the cupcake in her hand and you pressed your lips together.

“How is Leila after last night?”

“Uh, she went to work,” Becca said, still staring at her cupcake. “And hasn’t texted me yet so I wouldn’t know.”

“Did she say anything last night?” you asked as you bit down on the cupcake, then shook your head and put it aside while Becca heaved a sigh.

“Yeah we talked.”

“And?”

“She says—I mean obviously she was terrified but she kept saying it wasn’t my fault.”

You hummed. “But you don’t believe her.”

“Well she has been in zero car chases with bullets flying around before she met me, so…” Becca trailed off and you reached out to hold her hand.

“Becca…”

“She’s going to leave me,” Becca said and cleared her throat. “You know what, she should leave me. That’s the right choice there.”

“Becca!”

“I never thought I’d say this, but maybe mom was right.”

You rolled your eyes. “I love Winnifred, but I wouldn’t take her advice on romance.”

“No no,” Becca said. “She kept saying this life is no fit for civilians, and she’s right.”

“You’re not even officially in the business,” you told her. “I mean I can see why being with a civilian would put them in danger if you’re one of the bosses, but you’re not. You don’t even want to be.”

“It doesn’t matter though,” Becca insisted. “I put my girlfriend in danger—”

“HYDRA put your girlfriend in danger,” you said. “And everyone is fine except those guys. I don’t know where Bucky took them but—”

“The usual warehouse.”

“Ah,” you said. “Well apparently he questioned them all night last night, so I can assure you that we’re taking revenge.”

“My girlfriend’s safety is more important to me than revenge,” she said and you pulled back slightly.

“Right,” you said. “No I know. But they’re never going to hurt anyone else, I assure you. And Leila is safe.”

She pursed her lips together and shut her eyes before squeezing at your hand.

“Sorry if that came out snappy.”

“No I get it,” you said. “Trust me.”

“It’s just…” she muttered and swallowed thickly. “Is this going to be the rest of my life? Always looking over my shoulder and worrying I might get someone killed?”

“Of course not,” you said in a rush. “No way. We had truce so far and it never happened before right? It’s just until we get rid of these assholes that we need to be extra careful, that’s all. After that, it will all be fine.”

She scoffed a small laugh.

“You sound like Bucky.”

“That might be the worst thing you ever said to me throughout our friendship,” you deadpanned and she let out a giggle.

“He looked pretty worried last night.”

“I mean I’d say so, you’re his little sister—”

“No no, for you,” she said. “We had a talk when he took me and Leila home.”

You pulled your brows together and shook your head.

“No way, Bucky doesn’t worry about me,” you said. “Why would he?”

Becca blinked a couple of times, and opened her mouth then closed it again to lean her fist on her lips, as if trying to control herself.

“Because we’re picking cakes for your wedding right now?”

“Oh yeah but that’s the only reason,” you said. “If I get killed, he will have to do business with Ian and he won’t do it so… It’s in his self-interest rather than my wellbeing.”

“I can’t believe I used to accuse Bucky of being oblivious.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing,” she said. “Okay so, my relationship issues aside, let’s pick the perfect cake for you and my brother’s wedding that is completely pragmatical on both sides, nothing more.”

You nodded fervently, then turned to look at the table.

“Not the bananas though, apparently he doesn’t like banana flavor in cakes.”

Becca raised her brows and tried to bite back a smile.

“Right. Uh huh.”

“Anyways,” you said and grabbed the next cupcake. “Let’s do a pragmatical cake tasting then.”

By the time you were done with everything you were supposed to do, it was already evening. You and Becca had picked two cakes but you couldn’t be sure so you had asked the bakery to give you a box of them so that you could get Bucky’s opinion as well.

Even though the idea of making his slice banana flavored just to mess with him was tempting, you were going to play nice.

Well, as nice as you could.

You pulled over in front of the warehouse and left the car with your bodyguards following you. Bucky’s men rushed around as soon as they saw you walking there with the small bag thrown over your arm, and one of them opened the door to no doubt let Bucky know. You smiled at the men by the door.

“May I?”

“Of—of course ma’am,” one of them said, opening the door for you and you stepped inside to see Bucky approaching the door.

“Charm?”

“Hi there,” you said looking around the warehouse. You had been here a couple of times while you were still the heir, and it looked as huge as you remembered. You could see the tied up figured on the chair far away in the room as the familiar scent of blood hit your nostrils, and you scrunched up your face before turning to Bucky’s men. “Could you leave us please?”

They turned to look at Bucky who nodded, so they all left one by one, leaving you with him and the tied figure that almost looked unconscious. Bucky went to the table to grab a towel so that he could wipe his bloodied hands.

“What are you doing here?”

“Wedding stuff,” you said, putting the bag on the table to open the small cardboard box. “I’m supposed to let them know tonight about which flavor we picked, and I figured I wouldn’t have the time if you decide to spend the whole night here again.”

“Okay but—”

“Also what kind of a question is that? We’re getting married and I can’t visit you at work, asshole?”

“I didn’t mean—”

“Here,” you cut him off by pushing a piece of cupcake into his mouth before he could say anything else and he pulled his brows together as he chewed on it, obviously deciding that arguing with you was useless.

“This is amazing,” he said. “What is this?”

“Lemon coconut,” you said as you tore a piece of the other cupcake in the box while he nodded.

“We can go with this one—”

“No so fast buddy, try this too,” you said, pushing the piece of the other cupcake into his mouth again and he chewed on it, deep in thought.

“And this?”

“Chocolate blueberry.”

“Fuck, this is a hard decision.”

“I know right?” you asked while the guy tied to the chair let out a whine. “I’m more leaning towards lemon coconut but…”

“Yeah no, chocolate blueberry is delicious too—why don’t we have two cakes?”

“Because the cake is symbolical Bucky!” you whispered while the guy let out another groan. “This marriage is going to require us to take some decisions about business together, how are we going to do that if we can’t decide on—shut it asshole!”

Bucky looked over his shoulder at the guy. “Yeah prick, we’re having a conversation here.”

“Fuck you,” the guy managed to wheeze out and Bucky shook his head slightly.

“You’d think he’d be more cooperative since I killed the other guy in front of him.”

You hummed, picking at the cupcake. “We are killing him too right?”

“Obviously, he put you and Becca in danger.”

“He also made Becca upset!” you said. “You know how I feel when people make Becca upset.”

Bucky popped the piece of cupcake into his mouth, then nodded his head.

“Lemon coconut it is,” he said. “Can I go back to beating the fuck out of him now?”

“Yeah don’t let me stop you,” you said and grabbed another cupcake from the box to follow him to the guy.

It was quite obvious that Bucky had broken every single bone in his face considering how he looked. Blood was dripping from his nose and mouth, his breaths were leaving his bloodied lips in pained groans but he still managed to look up at you while you leaned sideways to the column close to you, nibbling on the cupcake.

“Oh isn’t this the princess?” he said with great difficulty but let out a groan when Bucky grabbed his throat to squeeze it.

“I didn’t say you could look at her,” Bucky said calmly and you grinned.

“Hi there,” you said, chewing on the cupcake. “You seemed more confident while you were chasing me with a car, huh?”

The guy let out a choked noise and Bucky tilted his head, then pulled his hand back so that he could breathe again.

“You fucking bitch…” the guy started but he didn’t get to finish his sentence when Bucky punched him in the stomach, knocking the breath out of his lungs. He coughed while Bucky shook his head slightly.

“He just doesn’t learn,” he told you and you shrugged your shoulders.

“They never do,” you said, turning to the guy. “That was very rude by the way. Someone should teach you some manners.”

The guy scoffed and spat out blood.

“Maybe someone should teach you, you spoiled slut—”

He didn’t get to say anything else when Bucky pulled out his knife and rammed it right into his kneecap, making him let out a howl of pain.

“Maybe,” you said, your voice completely calm. “It’s not going to be you who teaches me anything though.”

He tried to catch his breath while you popped the rest of the cupcake into your mouth, then tilted your head.

“Bucky?”

He looked over his shoulder. “Yes sweetheart?”

“Make him do it again.”

Bucky shot you a grin and twisted the knife, the guy’s scream echoing through the warehouse again.

Chapter 14

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky barnes #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mob! bucky #mafia!bucky barnes #mafia!bucky barnes x reader #mafia!bucky #mafia bucky barnes #mafia bucky x reader #mob bucky barnes x reader #mob bucky barnes #mob bucky #mob boss!bucky #mob bucky x reader #mob boss bucky barnes #mob!au #mob au

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haileybeehappy · 1 year ago

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Movie Nights

Summary : Movie night with your best friend turns when your long time crush, and her brother, invites you to watch the titanic with him instead of the horror movie she is forcing you to watch. Gets steamier than the car scene.

Warnings : there's a lot in this one. Oral, both female and male receiving. she grinds on his abs, because, a girl can dream. dom harry. spanking. pussy slapping, choking, slapping, calling him sir. Oh and daddy. p in v sex. protected. ummm.

Word Count : 5.3k (longest fic I have ever written I'm pretty sure)

Authors note : unedited, wrote it out while my best friend packed. took fucking hours 😂

You and your childhood best friend sat on her basement couch watching horror movies with your hands alternating in the popcorn bucket. You had just gotten home from college a few days before and had your first sleepover on the first weekend that the two of you were both back in town. A short standing tradition after the last three years of school.

“What are we watching?” You whine as you hide behind your hands. Peeking at the screen between the slits of your fingers.

“A shitty horror movie with a shitty budget and shitty actors,” she laughs as she continues to munch at the popcorn. You might as well be shaking from fear.

“I hate this! Why can’t we just watch the princess bride? Or ten things I hate about you?” You ask as you stuff a handful of popcorn into your mouth.

“Because those are shitty cheesy movies. You always fall asleep anyways so,” she shrugs her eyes not leaving the screen. The movie continues as you watch through your hands. Peeking occasionally to see someone being murdered or tortured. You didn’t mind the ghost movies or the monster horror but the guts and gore really got to you.

“Whatcha watchin?” Is whispered into your ear, your whole body tending and jumping clear off the cushion.

“Oh fuck Harry!” Gem screams as she throws a piece of popcorn at him. He skillfully catches it in him mouth and smiles.

“You guys make it to easy,” he laughs as he makes his way to the refrigerator in the kitchenette of the basement.

“You’re an ass,” you throw at him before turning back to the tv and placing your slotted fingers over your eyes.

“Why do you watch these if you don’t even watch them?” He questions you. His body gliding over back to the couch. His forearms resting on the back of the couch. His body so close to you that you can feel his body heat.

“Cause your sisters mean and won’t let me watch the notebook?” You state, more so a question.

“Why not? She makes me watch it all the time?” He scoffs. Gem looks at him with pursed lips and sunken eyebrows.

“Whatever Harry, you always pick that movie. I have nothing to do with it,” his face reddens slightly and he coughs.

“Whatever, I’m gonna go upstairs and watch the titanic. Your ears perk up as you hear him say that.

“Really?” You ask all too quickly.

“I even popped more popcorn,” he smiles down at you. You look to Gemma and she shrugs.

“You can go watch cheesy romance movies but I’m gonna watch real movies down here,” she smile. She’s always known of the attraction you have to her brother but neither of you say anything.

“You sure?” She asks. As if asking permission.

“All you’re doing down here is complaining anyways,” she jokes. You nod and then proceed to follow Harry up the stairs. His cologne filling your nose as you trail behind him. You breathe in his smell before realizing that’s definitely a little weird. You plop yourself down on the couch in your designated spot and he begins to dig through the cupboards that holds their DVD’s.

“DVD?” You ask.

“Yeah, of course,” he scoffs jokingly. Then in a much more serious time. “We gotta watch all the specials and extras too,” a smile stretches across your lips and you grab at the very large bowl of popcorn in front of you.

“Oh of course what was I thinking,” you laugh and shove a handful into your mouth. His head snaps at you as he hears the crunch of air puffed corn.

“Hey!” He whines. “Don’t eat all of it before the movie starts. Or you’re making more,” his eyebrow raised daringly.

“Fine. Whatever,” you plop the bowl into the coffee table. Your mouth still full of popcorn. Very buttery perfectly cooked popcorn. Harry has always had a knack for movie snacks. He finally finds the DVD and raises from his hunched position and inserts it into the DVD player. Snatching the remote from next to the tv and eventually finding the spot next to you on the sofa a comfortable place to be. He is close enough that he can reach the popcorn which he has now placed in between the two of you but far enough it’s not weird.

As the movie starts you can't seem to pay attention to the people on the screen. Mostly focused on the feeling of your lifelong crush sitting next to you. The body heat radiating off of him is all you can feel. You keep fidgeting around and moving around trying to get comfortable. His hand then finds its place on your knee.

"Would you stop moving so much," he whispers. His hand not moving from your leg as his attention moves back to the movie. His hand so warm it feels like it is burning a hole through your leggings. His thumb slowly moving back and forth the black fabric. You find your eyes drifting away from the tv and looking to Harry. A small smile resting on his lips as he watches the movie. Reaching over you grab a small handful of popcorn, his eyes darting to you and his mouth opens wide. You let out a small laugh and bring a few pieces of popcorn to his mouth. He smiles widely at you then crunches the popcorn between his teeth. You force your eyes back to the screen but keep looking to Harry in your peripheral. His hand still resting on your thigh.

He readjusts himself scootching slightly closer to you, his hand falling further up your thigh, a small gasp leaves your lips.

"Sorry," he whispers, sliding it back to the place before. You wrap your fingers around his moving it back up your thigh.

"It's okay,"

"You sure?" His head turning to look at you. You nod.

"I trust you," his face close to yours. If you both leaned forward just a bit his nose would bump yours.

"Probably a bad idea." his voice barely audible.

"You've never given me a reason not to," you drift closer to him slightly. Just as he began to lean forward Gem comes bursting through the door.

"James is here, we're going to go to a party at Wills do you wanna come?" she asks walking into the room. Her eyes on her phone. You jump back from Harry and look to your friend, heart in your throat.

"No I'm not feeling particularly partyish," you shrug. She looks between you and Harry, a small smile playing at her lips.

"You want me to take you home?" Her eyes mischievously looking to her brother.

"I can take her after the movie is over," his hand still resting on your thigh he begins to move his thumb back and forth again.

"You okay with that?" she asks looking back to you. You just nod. "Okay well than I'm out of here," she looks back to her phone and walks to the door. Your phone buzzes and quickly you glance at the screen. Wrap it before you tap it babe XD is the text notification you get from Gemma. You quickly turn your phone over, harry looking back to the TV screen as Gemma leaves. His hand raises holding the remote and pauses the tv.

"I'm gonna run to the bathroom, I'll be right back," you nod as he stands up. His frame towering over you. You look up to him, his waist at your eye level. As he brushes by you, he looks down to you. Stopping when he is right and front of you. Grasping your chin in his fingers as you look up to him. "Don't go anywhere," he says with a smile. You bite into your bottom lip.

"I wasn't planning on it," you say through a smile.

"Good," he lets go of your chin and makes his way to the bathroom. You take in a big breath and sigh out. Dropping your head to rest on the couch. You move the popcorn bowl to the table. Grabbing your phone you respond to Gemma. Shut up! Be safe, I love you <3. As she responds Harry comes back into the room, you drop your phone into your lap as he plops back beside you. Now close enough that his leg slots itself under your crisscrossed legs. His hand finds residency back on your thigh as he presses play on the movie.

"I'm thirsty," you complain. He slowly turns his head to you looking over your face. He pauses the movie again.

"What do you want?" He asks moving to get up.

"I can get it," you lift yourself from the couch shuffling to the kitchen. You grab yourself a glass, and when you turn to see if Harry wants anything. You yelp when you come face to face with him. "Holy shit you scared me," you laugh out. He smiles down at you.

"Sorry, didn't mean to," His hands find your waist. Your breath catching in your throat. "Didn't want you to get lonely," you can't help the smile that is plastered across your face. You just walk out of his grip and to the fridge.

"I think I would have been okay," You grab the pitcher of lemonade that they have just for you and pour yourself a glass. Harry lets out a sigh.

"You're probably right," as you turn back around, closing the door with your hip. He plucks the glass out of your hands and takes a sip. You gasp in fake annoyance.

"Hey! That's mine!" You push at him as he then sets the glass on the counter. Placing his hand on top of yours as you push against him. Your fingers encased by his. His other hand finds your waist and pulls you to him, your body colliding with his. He releases his hold of your hand on his chest and wraps you completely in his embrace. Usure of what to with your hands you bring your other hand up to rest on his chest. "You're mean," you joke. The smile on his face grows.

"I was thirsty," he shrugs. You just roll your eyes, dropping your head down. Looking down to where your hands rest on his chest. His hand grasps your jaw pulling you to look at him. "Don't you roll your eyes at me," he says jokingly, with some weight behind his words.

"What are you going to do about it?" you ask breathily. His hold on your jaw tightening.

"Don't tempt me," he says, your name escaping his mouth.

"I'm not doing anything," his eyes drop to your lips, then back to your own eyes. You nod, giving him permission. He dips, his nose bumping yours in a playful way. You close your eyes waiting for his lips to press against yours. You open your eyes, and he is just starring at you. When his green irises meet yours, he moves his thumb back and forth against the skin of your chin.

"You're so beautiful," He whispers before he collides with you. His warm lips enveloping yours. Your hands move to grasp at the back of his neck. The hold he has on your hips tightening, he pulls you to him. You deepen the kiss, tasting the Lemonade on his lips. He opens his mouth pressing his tongue against the seam of your lips, and accept him, exploring each other his hands drift from your waist to your ass. As you gasp you can feel him smile into your mouth. You pull back and gasp in a breath.

"You okay?" he asks. You nod at him, lips pulled into your mouth. "You wanna go back to the movie?" you shrug. "Or we can go to my room?" you shrug again. "It doesn't have to go further than this?" he offers up again. You pause for a moment before nodding your head. He fights a smile and turns to grab your drink, his hand holding yours in the other. He quickly leans down to grab the remote and clicks off the TV. Before he can pull you upstairs to his room you grab your phone off the couch. You trail behind him, eyes locked on your entwined hands. Trailing up the tattoos on his arms, you cross the threshold into his room. He closes the door behind you and places the glass of lemonade on his side table before sitting down on the edge of the bed. You slot yourself between his legs and drop your hands onto his shoulder. His eyes wide as he looks up to you. His hands sliding from their resting place on your hips and down to the backs of your knees. Pulling you close to him so that he can slide you onto his lap. As your body is jerked into his hold you let out a whine.

"I won't drop you," he jokes as you finally find yourself sitting in his lap. Knees on either side of his waist, feet under your bottom. Arms wrapped around his neck as his are clasped behind your back holding you in place. You lean down and press a chaste kiss on his lips. He pushes you back into him as you try to pull away. You laugh as he begins to place kisses on your jaw, slowly trailing down your neck. Not venturing down further than your collar bones. You lean your head back to give him access to more skin. The light scruff tickles as he pressed light kisses along the tendons poking behind your skin. Finding a soft spot that elicits a gasp from you. Your hands tangle into his hair as his teeth scrape against the lilac mark that now stains your skin. The pull at the base of his neck tilting his head up and you capture his lips in yours once again. As his tongue delves into your mouth his hands find your ass. Fingers kneading into your skin, Fingernails scraping at your fabric covered skin. As you nip at his lip he pulls back.

"Are you okay? With all this?" he asks emphasis on the last few words with a squeeze of your ass. You nod in approval. "Words," he speaks your name.

"Yes, I am very okay with it," you twist his hair in your fingers.

"And going further?" you nod. He gives you a pointed look.

"Yes,"

"How much further?" you answer with a shrug. He gives your ass a sharp slap. "Words, was that, okay?" he asks, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Yes, and I mean, whatever happens, happens," you shrug with one shoulder. "I'll let you know if I want to slow down or stop," he nods and drops his back onto the mattress. Your form following his as he presses a kiss into your lips. Another smack is laid on your ass and he quickly spins you around so that you are under him. Your legs unfold from under you, the weight of his body on yours a comforting feeling. Your legs wrapping across his back. Pulling him down closer to you, his clothed cock rubbing across your core. A small growl vibrates within is throat as he grinds down into you.

You disconnect from him and begin kissing down his chin, down his neck, sucking at the sensitive skin. He finds solace in the crease of your neck, face buried in your hair. He breathes deeply as you pull at his hair, your hands venture down from his hair. Running over his neck, down his chest. Ghosting over his abdomen and slipping up under his shirt. Rubbing your fingers sternly over the bones protruding from his hips. Hands skimming over the fern tattoos that you know adorn themselves on his skin. He lets out a shaky breath as your hands continue to explore his body. Your head now dropped onto the mattress, eyes closed and breath shallow.

"Fuck you feel so good against me," he whines into your ear. Pressing himself harder into your center. You let out a wispy moan. He leans up, scootching himself off the floor and stands. Looking down to you, you sit up slowly and snake your hands back under his shirt.

"I wanna see your tattoos," you pout, pulling at the black fabric of his shirt. He smirks and pulls the shirt over his head. Revealing his ink-stained torso. Your hands lay flat against the ferns that poke out from his jeans; The waistband pulled down slightly. His light happy trail thickening as is dives below his waist. Slowly skimming your hands up to the butterfly under his pecks your fingers tracing the lines of the wings, then up the center. continuing with one finger you trace it up the center of his chest and bring your other hand back up. You rub your thumbs over the birds on his chest before slipping the pads of your fingers up and down his collar bones. You look back to his face, his eyes already watching you intently. His hands encapsulate your face, leaning down he places a kiss on your nose. You scrunch it as he pulls away.

"I wanna see you too," his voice husky. You move to take off your shirt, but his hands quickly cover yours and grasp your shirt. Slowly pulling it off your body. As the fabric moves over your face you close your eyes, as he drops the shirt to the ground, he leans back down over you. Your eyes still closed he drops to his knees. He begins placing kisses on your neck, your head falling back. "So fucking beautiful," he whispers as his bottom lip skims across the tops of your breasts. His hands running up your legs, fingers splayed as he travels up. Lightly running them up your sides and waist. Finally grasping at your bra covered chest. The sudden pressure causing you to let out a moan.

"Harry please," you whine out.

"Please what baby?" he asks, pressing soft kisses against your hot skin.

"I don't know I just want to feel you," his hand runs along the band of your bra until he finds the clasp in the back. "Yes, please," you say before he can ask for permission. He smiles against your skin, quickly unclasping the lace clad bra. It falls off your form, he pulls it from your body and adds it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor. His mouth covers your exposed flesh. Tongue circling your peaked nipple while his hand comes to play with your neglected breast. Kneading at your skin, You lean yourself down to him.

"So fucking needy," he says before he reattaches to the opposite breast. Your now wet exposed skin tingling in the cold air. Little gasps and whines leaving your mouth as he continues to suck at your skin.

"Only for you," you breathe out. He growls as his teeth nip at you. You let out a squeak and jolt back. He pushes against you, having you lay back flat. Mouth finding your neck, adorning you with more marks. His hand drift to the waist of your leggings and he slips just the tips of his fingers into the fabric. Rubbing his hands back and forth, you twitch up into his touch. "You can take them off," you tell him. He sighs into you. Hands bunching the fabric, coming back to a full standing position as he pulls the black fabric fully from your legs. He then drops down to his knees. Fingers skimming down from your ankles, up your calves. Resting at the inter seam of your knee. Holding onto the flesh of your legs as he looks to you. Your hair splayed on the cream sheets behind you.

"Touch me please," you beg. He runs his finger pads along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You grasp at his hair as he begins to place kisses along the edges of your underwear. "Harry please," you whine, lifting your hips from the bed. He responds with a slap to your thigh.

"Let me explore," he nips at the skin of your thigh. You instinctively try to close your legs. He then takes both hands, wrapping them around the back of your thighs and holding you open. You let out a huff as he begins placing soft kisses along your clothes seam. Almost light enough you can't feel him. "Already so wet," he groans out, as if he is speaking to himself. He then licks a flat stripe against you, not quite enough to touch your depraved clit. You moan out, gripping his hair tighter. Pushing his face to you, his nose bumps your clit, and your hips try to push up to grind into him, but he stops you with the grip he has on your hips. He pulls back and slaps against your pussy, which rips a wail from your throat.

"Fuck Harry please,"

"Stop being a needy little whore and let me have fun," he then hooks his fingers into the gusset of your underwear and all but rips them off your body. He dives back into your cunt. Fingers playing at your entrance as he instantly attaches his mouth to your clit. You writhe off the bed.

"Harry, yes, oh my god," you yell out. His smile breaking the suction he had. "Please don't stop, please, please," You pull tightly at his hair. His fingers finally slip knuckle deep into you. Exploring, searching for that spongy spot inside you. Moans and obscenities falling from your mouth. As he finally presses his fingers to the spot deep inside of you drop your head into the mattress and your legs drop to the sides. Arching up off the bed, he continues pumping his finger in and out of you. Mouth still attached to your clit; you can feel yourself approach your climax faster than ever before.

"Fuck Harry please I'm so close," pushing yourself against his face.

"Come for me baby," he says before quickly attaching himself to you. Teeth grazing your clit causing stars to burst behind your eyes. Your fingers and toes curling and clenching so hard it almost hurts. Broken words fall from your mouth as you whimper and moan. Pleasure coursing through your veins, your heart beating a million miles an hour. "Such a good girl," Harry groans as he begins placing kisses on your trembling thighs. You roll your head to the side as he guides himself onto the bed. Pulling you to his chest as you come down from your high. His hand running up and down your back, murmuring into your ear.

"You did such a good job baby," he presses a kiss into your hair. You open your eyes and look to him.

"Thank you," you smile at him. Which causes him to chuckle.

"You're welcome, I've been dying to do that for years," He then pulls you in for a kiss. You can taste yourself on his tongue, he pulls your bottom lip in between his teeth as he pulls away.

"Years huh?" you ask.

"Years," he confirms before kissing you again. You just smile into his lips.

"Damn," you mumble against him. He looks at you with slight concern. "You're saying I could've had mind blowing orgasms for years but we were too chicken?" he breaks out in laughter.

"I guess so," once your head is finally clear you look down at your tangled bodies. His pants have been undone; zipper flayed open. Exposing is Calvin Clein briefs that clothe a still very hard member. The outline of the head of his cock pressing against the fabric. You run your finger along rim of his cock, and he lets out a broken sigh.

"It was starting to hurt," he breathes out. Eyes watching your hands intently.

"Aww baby," You condescend as you then palm down the length of him.

"You fuckin, ooh," he trails off into a moan.

"Can I kiss it better?" you ask as you slowly glide down his body. He nods in confirmation.

"Fucking please," he groans, his dick pushing up against your hands.

"I can't wait to taste you," you say as you are eye level with his clothed cock. Pulling at his jeans and underwear. His hips lift from the bed so you can gain access to his untouched skin. His dick springs out slapping against his stomach. He lets out a hiss as your hand wraps around his base. Lifting his dick to your lips, you place an opened mouth kiss against the tip of his cock. Tongue poking out to taste him. A hum like moan leaves his mouth at the contact.

"Holy fuck you feel so good already," his hips jerk up. You then take all of his head into your mouth. Swirling your tongue around him. Slowly taking a little more at a time, bobbing up and down slightly. Wetting his cock slowly. His grasp finds home in your hair pulling at your roots. You moan at the pleasurable burn that sends tingles through your body. The vibrations on his cock causing him to thrust up into your mouth. "Fuck, sorry, sorry," He groans as you pull off of him.

"It's okay," you gasp. Before diving back in and taking him as far back as you can.

"Fucking shit you're perfect," he groans. Eyes screwing shut and his head dropping onto his pillows. His hand stays at the back of your head as you bob up and down on his dick. Taking what you can't fit down your throat in your hands. You can feel him twitch in your mouth, your mouth salivating, ready to taste him explode across your taste buds. Before he finishes, he pulls you off him and lets out a shaky breath. "I wanna feel you," his dick twitches in your grasp. "If that's okay with you?" you nod.

"Yeah, yes, please," He pulls at your hair, you climb back up onto him. Your exposed core sitting on his abdomen. Connecting at the lips again. His hands gripping your hips slowly guiding you to grind against his abs. You whimper into the kiss, his fingers digging deep enough to bruise in the morning. You can feel your orgasm building as you rub yourself on him. His skin becoming wet with your slick. He pulls back from your lips.

"You getting close?" you let out a whimper as you nod. "Come on baby, you can do it. Cum on my tummy baby," he coaxes you as you grind down harder onto him. He lets go of your waist with one hand and slaps your ass. The sting pushing you over the edge. Legs clenching around his abdomen, shaking and whining. His eyes glued to your face, that's twisted and clenched in pleasure. "Good girl, such a good fuckin girl," he growls as you finish for the second time. Your hands find rest on his chest as you collapse into his arms.

"Fuck Harry you're gonna kill me," you sigh as you nuzzle into his neck. He chuckles. Hands kneading your ass.

"At least you'll die satisfied," you place a kiss against his neck.

"Can I satisfy you now?" you joke.

"Of course," he laughs. Turning over so you are under him he hops off the bed. Quickly shedding himself of his pants he turns and begins digging in his dresser. He comes back to the bed. A small foil packet in his hand. He tosses it on the bed beside you. You stand up on your knees and waddle to the edge of the bed. He pulls you into a deep kiss. Hands on either side of your face. You sigh out into him. As he pulls away his thumb runs across your bottom lip.

"You sure? We don't have to if you don't want to," his thumb resting on your lip. You lean down and press a kiss against it.

"I am beyond sure," you smile at him.

"Thank fuck," he wraps his arms around your thighs and picks you up. tossing you back onto the bed. You land with a laugh. Be stays standing looking down on you, lustful look on his face.

"Are you going to fuck me or just look at me?" he smirks and grabs the condom. Ripping open the wrapping and rolling it onto himself without taking his eyes off of you. You look back and forth between his face and his dick. Mouth practically watering at the sight of him. He guides himself over you. Slowly crawling onto you. As he comes face to face with you, he pecks your lips.

"I want your eyes on mine okay?" he questions you.

"Yes sir," you slip. Eyes widening slightly. He smirks at the comment. He moans as his tip teases your entrance. You lift your hips causing his head to slip inside of you. Both of you gasping at the feeling. His hand then comes around your throat. Squeezing slightly at the sides, asking permission. You nod.

"So fucking needy," he groans as he then sheaths himself fully inside of you. He stays buried inside you unmoving. The moan that leaves your body is unlike any noise you've made before. The sheer fullness of him causing your body to vibrate. "Such a tight little cunt," His eyes still locked on yours. "My tight little cunt huh?" you release a little moan. His hand releasing your throat and tapping at the side of your face. "Words baby," he commands.

"Yes Harry, all yours," he then lighly smacks your face.

"Uh uh, that's not my name," His pupils blown with lust. You moan out to him.

"Sir," you whine out. He begins to slowly pull out. "Yes sir, I'm sorry sir," barely escapes your mouth as he fully thrusts back into you.

"Fuck," he drowns out. Slowly dragging himself across your walls. As he slowly fucks you, your moans grow. His tip bouncing off your cervix in the most deliciously painful way. "Fuckin good girl taking Daddys cock all the way," he groans.

"Like it was made for me," you sigh.

"Just for you baby, only yours," you clench around him. His breath faltering. "You keep doing that I'll fucking come," he scolds. His hand snaking in between your conjoined bodies and finding your clit. As he draws slow circles over the bundle of nerves you gasp. The two prior orgasms making you overly sensitive.

"Oh Daddy please don't stop,"

"Come on baby, come for me, come with me," he whimpers. You can feel him twitching inside of you, on the edge. As his thrusts become sloppy you feel your orgasm teetering on the edge.

"I'm gonna come, Daddy, fuck," His eyes not leaving yours.

"Eyes on me, wanna watch you come," you moan out as he thrusts harder. Your vision cloudy with tears as your orgasm washes over you. Your eyes closing as you hit your peak. His hand making harsh contact with your cheek.

"Eyes on me," he releases a frustrated groan. You open your eyes to look at him. His eyes an even darker green than usual. His pupils dilate erasing almost all the color from his irises as he releases into the condom buried balls deep inside you. Gasped breaths escaping his mouth as he struggles to curse out. He collapses onto you. slipping beside you and nuzzling into your neck. You move to wrap your arms around him as his clasp your waist.

You lay together for quite some time before he lifts himself to kiss you. Slow lazy kisses, capturing each other's breaths. As he pulls away and looks back into your eyes, you speak.

"That was pretty good," you shrug. His mouth falls open with offence.

"Pretty good?" he scoffs. "Don't make me fuck you till you can't walk pretty girl. I will fucking destroy you," Before you get a chance to answer he captures your lips in his. You push him off you.

"So sensetive," You laugh, pulling him back in for a kiss. Both of you fighting smiles.

Masterlist

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles smut #harry styles dom #harry styles smut fanfic #i love him

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elsweetheart · 2 years ago

Note

gm angel!!! i was wondering if u could possibly write abt ellie helping out an inexperienced reader like she has her first time with ellie n what the would be like!!

haaayyyy omg ok

slow burn.

🎀 innocent / inexperienced!reader, very smutty ! ellie being a cocky lil shit …

you knew you’d wanted ellie from the moment you met her.

you were entranced by her, both young teenagers, ellie a year or so older than you when she took you under her wing. you often recalled how she solidified your love for girls almost instantly, the crush on her hitting you flat in the face like a slab of concrete. you think back to her adorable pony tail, the way she dressed, the way she had boy-ish charm and playfulness but could comfort you the way only a girl could. you’d spent a long time following her around like a lost puppy, being known as “ellies shy friend”. over the years she’d forced you out of your shell again and again, dragging you around with your hand in hers, a constant reassurance.

inevitably, now adults, you’d ended up her girlfriend. “slowest fucking burn in the world.” the auburn haired girl often told you, shaking her head recalling the way two of you had grown up crushing on eachother without saying a word. “no seriously, what… the fuck… were we doing?” she chuckled, handing you the watering can as you worked. she found it sweet how you’d only been given the totally ‘girly’ jobs around jackson. tending to the horses, helping out in the garden etc. she couldn’t picture you leading a supply run or hunting like she would, nor would she want you to. your soft hands were best utilised back here, where you were safe.

“i guess i didn’t wanna ruin what we had. i knew you liked girls but i thought it was awfully presumptuous to assume you liked me just because we were close and i’m a girl.” you shrugged thoughtfully, trickling water on the soil. you turned your head to look at ellie for her thoughts, only to find her smirking. you furrowed your brows in confusion.

“presumptuous.” she repeat, amused at your use of such big and unnecessary words. she jumped off the wooden fence where she was sat, leaning forward to ruffle the top of your head. “my smart girl, aren’t you?” it wasn’t mocking, or patronising and yet it made heat rise to your cheeks, something else, another feeling stirring down below. before she had time to notice she was stepping away, stuffing her hands in her jean pockets. “alright, i gotta go meet tommy about some fuckin’ hunt he wants me to lead. i’ll see you later, yeah babe?” she began strolling away and as you lift you head to bid her farewell, hands pushing some new buds into the soil she spun on her heel, finger pointed towards you.

“hey—um,” she began casually. “you wanna come over tonight? i got that movie you said you wanted to watch, the scary one.” she flushed. it was still very early days in your relationship, finally having admit your feelings for eachother just about a month ago. even though you’d known her for years, the two of you were treading on totally new territory. she made you hot and nervous, even more than she did before now that she was all yours. she oozed confidence, and now she had you— her usual flirtiness was dialled up to ten. it had erupted some feelings you’d only briefly touched on before, one’s that would have you laying awake at night frustratedly palming at your cunt trying to dull the ache she’d leave from her lingering glances and gentle manhandling.

later that night, you were smushed up against her side on the couch— the old horror movie buzzing on the screen. the two of you were always affectionate, it was normal. but now, your heart raced when her arm slipped around the back of you, pulling you closer into her. “you know, incase you get scared.” she smirked, and you feel like the butterflies in your tummy bottomed out into your cunt. you stared up at her for a moment, totally unaware of her joking tone and nodded shyly, snuggling into her with your eyes glued onto the screen to hide your face. to be quiet honest, you had no idea what was going on in the movie, you were totally encompassed by being so close to her.

she seemed totally relaxed and in her element, which equally sucked for you as it made her even hotter, whilst easing your mind slightly that she had everything under control. her hand pushed your tshirt up your arm slightly, hands gently stroking and kneading the skin there in an attempt to comfort you. you realised that she must’ve thought you were on edge because of the movie, and not because of how much she effected your body. her hand was cold and slightly clammy, a stark comparison to how warm the rest of her was in her hoodie. you snuck a peek at her, eyes flitting over her profile. she was wetting her bottom lip with her tongue, eyes on the screen. everything seemed to suit her so perfectly, her hair pulled up into her messy half up bun, the freckles dusted over her nose and cheeks, the scar dividing her eyebrow into two. you felt so lucky to have her, and you wished you knew how to express to her how badly you wanted her.

“you know, i can see you staring.” her lips pulled up into another smirk, this one more adoring as she turned to look at you, her eyes moving in a triangle motion— from one eye, to your lips, to the other. you couldn’t help but openly look at her mouth too, glittering with moisture slightly from her own tongue. “hm?” came your delayed reaction, so zoned out— feeling light headed from the way she made you feel. this made her chuckle, low in her throat.

“hm?” she repeat, teasingly. “you want a kiss?” she offered, her hand now stroking down your back from your position, turned to face her. you didn’t even wait a beat, already embarrassed from the way you threw yourself at her. kissing was the one thing you did know how to do, wrapping your arm around her neck, an accidental moan leaving your throat when you did so. she took control quickly, pushing you back with her mouth, hand on your cheek to almost soothe your desperation. “easy, tiger.” she joked with a humble chuckle, pulling away to breathe and laugh at you. you felt your face turn all hot and your lips parted, realising how pathetic you were being. you blinked a few times, turning back to the screen like it never happened.

“sorry.” you blurt out, frozen in your spot from the humiliation. the amused smile didn’t falter on her face at first when she leant forward to look at your profile questioningly.

“hey, wait what?” her brows furrowed, the smile taking its time dropping. you didn’t say anything and she spoke again. “babe? what just happened, huh?” she gently took your chin, urging you to look at her and she nudged you slightly with her shoulder. you looked at her wide eyed and guilty, struggling with your words.

“i didn’t mean to — i just — i accidentally just totally threw myself at you because — i want — i don’t know ellie, i’m sorry.” you covered your face, feeling hot tears in your eyes.

“woah, baby!” she cooed sympathetically, not quite knowing what she’d done to get you so wound up but feeling incredibly guilty for it. “hey, don’t be like that. i liked it. i was just gonna tease you for it, that’s all. you know what i’m like, m’an idiot.” she chuckled reassuringly, both hands on your cheeks. you peered up at her shyly, letting her stroke her thumbs along your cheeks.

“really?” you clarified, blinking at her in the low light as the movie continued, unattended to in the background.

“really.” she confirmed with her classic ellie smirk, she pulled your face close to hers, lips just grazing over yours. “i actually thought it was kind of hot, seeing you all needy like that.” she breathed into your mouth, and right there and then your pussy clenched up, thighs near trembling with the force it had spasmed at just her voice. you worried for the couch beneath you, scared of dampening it from your seemingly abundant arousal.

you couldn’t say anything, just let out a shaky breath, leaning forward to try and connect your lips. she leant back a little, so fucking cocky and amused when you chased her, letting out a desperate, quiet ‘ah…’ as you did so. “uh-uh.” she cooed and your eyes fluttered open to look at her face, analysing you close up. she was trying to get you back to that place she had you before without the embarrassment. needy, desperate, bordering on frantic for her touch.

already without pride, you whispered. “please, ellie.” and she couldn’t help but grant your wish, pressing her lips to yours. the makeout session intensified past any point the two of you had gotten it before. you hadn’t even realised that you were moaning quietly as her tongue massaged yours, and she groaned back— more at the feeling of your chest heaving against yours, the subtle feeling of your nipples hard through your top pressing against her was driving her wild.

you knew she’d been with other girls before, much to your devastation over the years when she’d come back to you bragging about her new sexual endeavours. to you, it felt like confirmation that she would never in a million years like you. you’d spent many nights crying over this, or out right avoiding her when she’d go through these phases. luckily for you, her relationships never lasted that long— no more than a week or two at a time, and the reason behind the breakup was always vague and mumbled, ellie recovering from it almost instantly— clear that something vital had been missing (that being, you— of course.) to ellie, her bragging was a constant display of her worth to you. she knew, but wouldn’t admit that she was only trying to prove to you that she could make you feel good if you’d ever give her the chance, but she was sure she’d blown her chances by that point.

you however, were totally innocent. you didn’t understand half the sexual jokes ellie made, let alone understand the sexual acts she’d describe when she’d return to you after one of her little flings. she’d always chuckle, catching a glance of your wide, focused eyes before patting you on the head “you’ll learn what that means one day, don’t you worry.” she’d mock, amused by your lack of experience.

your back arched into her touch when she finally slid her slender hands up your top, stroking and worshipping your soft skin that she’d always wanted to get her hands on. a whimper forced its way past your lips when her fingers ran over your breasts. you pant against her mouth, before the moment was again broken by her quiet yet obnoxious laugh.

“what?” you whine, openly needy this time.

“nothing, s’just… god, i thought you were fuckin’ innocent dude. you want it so bad.” her lips catch yours again, pulling away ever so slightly to suck on your bottom lip as she groped you beneath your shirt.

“i don’t know how to— i don’t know what i want i just know that…” you began, voice strained and hoarse as she mouthed at your neck, undoubtably sucking a bruise like she did last time (which when noticed, earned you a wide-eyed side-eye from Joel himself the next day.) she pulled away from you, her eyes all pupil at this point, mouth wet and flushed with colour.

“you just know what, hm? s’okay, i don’t bite.” she couldn’t help herself from pecking you again. “unless, you know… you’re into that.” she stole another kiss, gently nipping your bottom lip, voice deep with the smirk laying across her mouth. you drew in a harsh inhale, trying to gather your thoughts.

“you know i’ve never…” you started and she nodded, giving you her full attention now.

“i know, babe. you don’t have to—” she reassured but you cut her off, hands grabbing her by the collar of her hoodie, practically half on top of her.

“i want to. i want you to… i need help. you make me need something and i don’t know what, but i can’t sleep at night and i can’t focus, els. just want you t’make it better.” she could feel you slipping. you were always so submissive to her, even in every day life she knew you’d do anything to please her— and now things were no different, except it had been dialled up, and you were staring at her with big doe eyes and lips that she wanted to push her fingers into and make you suck. she ran her thumb over your bottom lip just at the thought, picturing how pretty you’d look.

“you need me to make you cum.” she state boldly and your eyes widened a little bit. you knew that cumming meant an orgasm, and the thought equally scared you and excite you. you could never quite get there by yourself, mounting pillows and blankets and your hand — yet never quite sure what to do, just rutting against it like some kind of desperate bunny. “i can do that, baby. always wanted to do that.” she whispered in confession, her other hand sliding up your back to reach your hair, tugging gently and slowly to expose your neck more to her, bruising her lips back into it. you bucked your hips against nothing on the seat and she glanced down, hand soothing you against your thigh.

“can i touch you there, pretty girl?” she asked, hand sliding across the thick band of your leggings. her pinky finger grazed over your mound as she stroked you just briefly and you shivered, nodding. “fuck. i need you to say the words, babe. don’t wanna take anything from you that you’re not ready to give.” she was stern all of a sudden, commanding and kind all at the same time the way ellie had always been. it was comforting, your ellie was going to make you feel good.

“want you to touch me ellie. need you to teach me.” you whimpered, eyes glossy with need and glancing between hers.

“alright. alright, i got you.” she dropped another kiss to your mouth before leaning back to look at what she was doing. “‘m gonna take these off okay, baby? just get them out the way.” she muttered, the desperation slipping through in her own voice ever so slightly before she checked herself, gaining better control over her demeanour.

you helped her pull off your leggings, ellie gently easing you to lie down on the couch, leaning on her elbow laying beside you as she shield you from the horrors on the forgotten about movie on screen.

“these are pretty, you had plans to get me in your pants tonight huh?” she joked, running her finger lightly over the waistband of your lacey pink panties. you felt your body flush in light embarrassment, knowing she was totally onto you. you had infact worn your best pair, unsure of what might happen.

“no.” you hid your nervous giggle into your hands and she nudged them away with her chin, rewarding you with more kisses.

“its okay, i like ‘em. they suit you. plus i can’t say i wasn’t thinking about it.” she praises, pushing your tshirt up to grope your soft skin once more. “you ever touch yourself before?” her question catches you off guard and your breath hitches in your throat, thighs tensing a little which she ignores. “s’alright you can tell me. our secret.” she nudges her nose against yours as her fingers dip into your lace waistband, pulling out again to tease you.

“i’ve… tried. just don’t know what m’doing.” you shiver, eyes screwed shut in concentration, her hand setting your skin alight as she continually draws near where you need her.

“poor thing.” she tuts, hand sliding up your thigh to bend your knee, pulling your legs wider open. you feel your drenched folds part and you swear to god you hear a wet sound at the action, a tribute to how fucking turned on you were. you swallow thickly, and ellie kisses your throat. “you’re cute, always wanted to ask you that actually. used to think about you doin’ it, all alone in your room. figured one day you’d come knocking at my door beggin’ me for help. that day never came, you really toughed it out hm?” she was cooing at you, and you felt ashamed at how hard your chest was rising and falling, eyes fixated on her hand stroking your inner thigh.

“mmph— wanted to. wan’ed your help, els.” you whimper and she responds with a hard wet kiss on your cheek.

“and look at us now. see where using your words gets you, huh?” she teased. her hand cupped your mound finally and you sucked in breath, the pressure just enough to make your clit pulse beneath the indirect touch. you rocked your hips into her hand through your underwear, the friction of the lace burning against your button making you sob. “yeah? haven’t even gotten started on you yet, baby.” she digs her fingers in slightly, sliding them up to rub your clit in generous circles. you release a clear moan, grabbing her arm and digging your nails into her tattoo.

“th—feels good, ellie.” you whine and she smiles, nudging your head aside so she could kiss your neck again. “that was definitely the plan.” she mumbles jokingly against your skin.

you huff out in frustration at her teasing. “stop.”

she lifts her head to look at you, eyes dancing between your own. “stop what, touching you?” her fingers slow their motions.

“no!” your brows furrow desperately, bucking into her hand. “stop teasing me. be nice.” you pout, emotions sky rocketed from the vulnerable position she had you in. she smiled sympathetically, her fingers skilfully pull your panties to the side, digits swiping through your wetness. she smirks once more as your eyelashes flutter at the sensation.

“i dunno, think you like my teasing. sure does make you wet.” she closes in on you, latching her lips to yours once more as she pushes her fingers through your soaked folds, feeling the way you jolt against her. “see, i can be nice.” she mutters, circling your clit again, she swallows your moans, dropping her tongue into your mouth and letting it swirl around. she continued to please you, and you felt a growing ache — lower down, where your hole was. it pulsed and clenched around nothing as she gave all her attention to your clit.

“m—more, please.” you swallow thickly, the fast circles on your clit slowing.

“yeah? you enjoying yourself, pretty girl?” she kissed the corner of your mouth making you nod.

“you’re so, mmh, so good at this.” you whimper and she feels smug— knowing no one else could ever know your body like she would. her middle finger hooked round, pushing ever so gently against the gummy walls around your hole. she massaged it, easing your tension slightly and you bit your lip needily, eyes trained on hers as she watched your every move and reaction. she began pushing her finger in slightly, watching the way your body tensed and then relaxed, expression melting as your brows furrowed and your eyes fluttered closed.

“fuck.” she whispered harshly, tearing her eyes away to look down at her finger disappearing inside you. you were tight, and she didn’t want to jump the gun but the thought of you squeezing around her strap had her breathless. “y’need to relax for me, pretty girl.” her free hand stroked your lower tummy, soothing you. you’d clenched around her finger so hard that she could barely move it. “m’not goin’ anywhere. that’s it, there you go.” she praised as you willed yourself to unclench, a whimper at your efforts leaving you.

she massaged the gummy warm walls inside you, watching the way just one finger had you falling apart, sobbing into her mouth as you caught the rhythm, grinding against her hand. “good, yeah. you’re taking it so good babe. my good girl, aren’t you? always been my good girl.” she kissed your forehead, another finger prodding at your entrance. you whine at the intrusion but welcome it anyway, only clenching hard once you’ve swallowed her up to the knuckles. your toes clench at the fullness, along with everything else. her palm that had been knocking against your clit with each movement was making it all too much, and suddenly you could barely breathe.

you sucked in air, overwhelmed by the feeling. “ellie.” you gasped and she was cupping the back of your neck with her free hand, the other fingers stilled inside you.

“look at me, look at me.” she demand quickly and casually, your hazy eyes landing on hers. “breathe, baby i know it’s a lot. i know.” you let the panic wash past you as you slow your breathing, wide eyes stuck on her’s like they were your life line. “there. you’re so fucking good. just be calm, let it come to you.” she kisses your cheek and you nod, eyes fluttering closed again as you nod. her fingers start to move, slow and you moan, free and unabashed. “good girl, baby.”

her fingers curl up, and after a while of doing this they come across a soft spot— one that makes you cry. “oh, gosh— ellie!” you hiccup, tearful and desperate now bucking against her hand.

“right there?” her voice is calm, raspy and low in her throat as she looks straight at you, brows raised in almost sympathy.

“yeah—but— s’too much i feel like— g’nna pee!” you squeal in humiliation and she hides the chuckle that nearly breaks out of her because it wasn’t the time.

“i know angel, s’intense isn’t it? but it’s not pee. i promise you. just let go okay? when you’re ready j’st… j’st fucking let me have it, yeah?” her whisper gets desperate again and it makes you buck even harder against her hand— fingers pressing hard against your spot again. almost immediately, you’re tipping over the edge and seeing stars, brows furrowed and jaw dropped. ellie keeps up her pace, feeling like she could cum herself just from watching you lose it, clenching and squelching around her fingers. “good girl. good fucking girl. look so pretty cumming for me, that’s it.” she encourages through grit teeth, talking you through it. you can barely hear her, white noise deafening you as you hit your euphoria.

it becomes too sensitive too fast and you’re fumbling at her wrist to stop her. she does, of course and she’s letting you breathe right into her mouth— swallowing the pants and catching kisses where she can. years of waiting to touch you, and it was better than she ever could have imagined. despite the sensitivity, you whine pathetically when she pulls her fingers out, her head pointing down to look at the mess you’d made. even in the low light she can see your slick coating her hand and your inner thighs, and if you weren’t so out of breath you might be embarrassed. “god damn.” she chuckled and your eyes flicker open, demure and sweet as ever. she brings two fingers to her lips, oh-so-casually sucking the juices off them with a grateful hum. “taste as good as you fuckin’ look.” she compliments and your lips part slightly, invitingly. she brings them to your mouth now and you welcome them inside, sleepily suckling the remainder of your flavour off them. “shit.” she puffs out a breath, shaking her head. how had she bagged someone so sexy again?

“than—k’you ellie.” you garble around her fingers, greedily savouring the slick on your tongue as she watched, entranced.

“anytime, babe.” she huffs out. “no really. any time.” she reiterates, widening her eyes making you giggle.

you weren’t sure how great of a student you were, but you knew ellie was a damn good teacher.

♡

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams prompt #ellie williams drabble #ellie tlou2 smut

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supernovafics · 2 months ago

Text

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 4.4k words

warnings: explicit language, angst, mentions of reader’s strained relationship with her parents

summary: the first night in mexico with steve is not as weird as you thought it would be, but it’s hard to avoid thinking about everything that happened with eddie

CHAPTER TWELVE | ❝𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖❞

Fall Semester 2016

You figured that the first night was weird because the first night in a new place was usually always weird.

But then the next two nights were somehow worse. Alone in a room that you were slowly starting to wonder if it would ever feel like “home.”

You sat in your bed and stared up at the ceiling for what felt like hours, but when you looked at your phone, you saw that only twenty minutes had passed since the last time you’d checked it. An annoyed sigh left your lips as you closed your eyes again, willing sleep to come.

Unsurprisingly, after another few minutes, it didn’t, and that made you grab your phone and call the one person that you wanted to talk to at that moment.

When Eddie answered with a soft and tired “Hi,” you asked, “Hey, are you busy right now?”

“At one in the morning? Not really, no.” When you didn’t laugh at his joke, he became serious. “You okay?”

“This is probably dumb and I already feel that way for asking this, but can you come over?”

“Yeah, of course,” He didn’t hesitate to answer and then things got quiet for a second before he asked again. “You okay?”

“I’ll explain when you get here,” You said, not wanting to go on what you felt like would be a neverending ramble about your current thoughts over the phone. “You can even take the bed if you want. I’ll sleep on the floor. Doesn’t matter to me.”

“I’m not gonna kick you out of your bed,” You could practically hear him shaking his head at your offer. “I’ll be there in ten.”

He actually made it in five minutes and you were greeting him with a small smile and a promise to give him as many blankets as he needed to be comfortable on the floor when you opened your door.

“So, what made you wanna do this impromptu sleepover?” Eddie asked once he was settled and you were back in your bed. You knew what the lighthearted question was really saying, What’s wrong?

“I feel dumb because I should’ve known that this was gonna happen,” You said, starting your answer in the middle because you knew that he’d catch on immediately. “We both know how I am when things are too quiet. But, after my roommate situation last year, I thought this single dorm thing would be better. But, actually, it sucks. Now, I weirdly miss the nights where I had to fall asleep to the sound of her talking on the phone.”

“You’ll get used to this,” He said, but you weren’t entirely sure if that was possible. You did appreciate how encouraging he sounded, though. “Hey, do you want this old TV that my uncle’s been meaning to get rid of? It’s just sitting in my room back home collecting dust right now. You can leave it on all night and it’ll probably make it easier to sleep.”

“Shit, that makes so much sense,” You said. It was the easiest fix and you were now realizing that it probably should’ve hit you before.

“We can get it this weekend,” Eddie told you. “I’ll even give you the old VHS tapes I used to play on it all the time. Lots of horror movies.”

You let out a quiet laugh. “I don’t know if falling asleep to Friday the 13th or Halloween every night is the greatest idea.”

“Okay, yeah, makes sense. There are also some cartoons.”

You smiled then. “Now that sounds great. I get to find out what cartoons Eddie Munson loved as a kid.”

He laughed. “It was a lot of things that were just weird knockoffs of Barney because that’s all my uncle would buy.”

“That sounds very cute,” You said, still smiling. “Thank you, though. Seriously. And thank you for being here right now too.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be right now.”

Not even with Chrissy? You wanted to ask that, but you didn’t because you had a feeling what his answer would be and you didn’t want to make things weird or awkward.

So, instead, you said, “Thank you for ruining your back for me.” You shifted a bit, turning on your side toward him. “We can still switch if you want. I’m fine with taking the floor.”

“Not gonna happen,” He told you and you decided against once again trying to convince him otherwise.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

There was a mourning period that came and went. And it didn’t even feel that overdramatic to call it that.

Stupidly, you expected to wake up the day after the moment you had with Eddie at his apartment and be completely over him— because you now knew that he’d never see you as anything other than as his best friend. There was no point in having even a little bit of hope for something equivalent to “a fairytale ending,” so you expected every other part of you to understand that too. But, apparently, an almost three-year-long crush couldn’t end that easily.

A part of you felt like you were back to Freshman year— pretending that everything was fine and normal. When, in reality, nothing was fine, and instead your life now felt like you were stuck in a really bad movie or nightmare.

You didn’t just feel hurt by the rejection— which technically wasn’t an outward rejection, but it felt just the same— you also felt embarrassed about everything you’d done over the past month. Even when days passed and the hurt faded into a wholehearted acceptance that still also felt a little sad, everything else stayed.

Steve was the only person that you could possibly admit any of this to since he was a part of the whole fake dating thing. You could tell him that it all ended up being an entire waste of time for you. However, somehow the thought of telling him only made you feel even more embarrassed.

He was so settled on the idea that this would work for you, and he continued doing things in hopes of making something happen over the last few days. It all felt so wrong now, but you simply pretended that it didn’t because you found it too hard to be honest.

You instead actively forced yourself to stop thinking about how everything had changed and how you were the only one who was aware of that fact. And it actually wasn’t the hardest thing to do. Except on the nights when it seemed as if there was nothing to do but think.

It was usually easy to drown out your thoughts with the sounds of whatever was happening within your apartment, but the circumstances were different at this moment since you weren’t in your room or the apartment at all. Instead, you were in a different country in a random bed with Steve sleeping right next to you.

You’d been exhausted after the flight and the hour drive to the fancy resort, but once you were actually settled in the huge bed that barely filled out the even bigger room, you couldn’t seem to sleep. Neither you nor Steve had been able to figure out the TV, you couldn’t even find the remote, but you figured that was fine because you thought you’d fall asleep easily. Clearly, you were wrong, though. And you now couldn’t stand to lay in the silence anymore.

You slowly pulled the blanket off of you and got out of your side of the bed— the left had been designated as yours and the right was Steve’s. The bed was also big enough that you had declined his earlier offer about putting a sort of pillow divider to make things more comfortable for you. In your head, sharing a bed with him probably wouldn’t end up being the weirdest part of this trip.

You maneuvered pretty well in the dark. Finding your sneakers that sat by your already haphazardly picked through suitcase and slipping them on, and then grabbing your phone and room key off of the nightstand and slipping both into the small pocket of the pajama shorts you were wearing.

It would’ve been easier if you just left without saying anything to Steve because you’d probably be back before he could even notice that you’d been gone. But, for some reason, it didn’t feel entirely right to do that.

“Hey,” You whispered as you stepped a little closer to him. “Steve?”

His eyes didn’t open as he shifted a bit and let out a soft, “Hmm?”

“I’ll, um, I’ll be right back.”

“Where you going?” He asked, words quiet and slightly mumbled.

“I can’t really sleep, so I think I’m gonna check out that twenty-four-hour buffet for a bit. The one that they mentioned when we were checking in.”

“Okay,” He said, eyes opening and he rubbed them for a second before pushing a quick hand through his hair and getting out of the bed.

You shook your head at his actions. “You don’t have to come.”

“I know,” He said but kept moving, standing up and going to grab his sneakers.

“You really don’t have to come,” You told him. “I already feel bad about waking you up.”

“It’s the middle of the night, and Robin told me that if anything bad happens to you during this trip, she’ll kill me.”

Hearing that made you laugh, and it didn’t entirely surprise you. “When did she say that?”

“Yesterday, when we were all watching TV at your place,” He answered as he grabbed his phone and pocketed it in his sweatpants. “It reminded me a lot of the game night conversation.”

“It also felt like The Godfather to you?” You asked, pulling open the door as he walked over to you. Abruptly going from the darkness in the room to the harsh and bright lighting in the hallway made you squint.

“Yeah, it did,” Steve told you and then rubbed his eyes again. “Jesus, it’s really bright out here.”

“Please go back to sleep. I’m sorry for waking you up.”

“Wow, good to know that you want me to get murdered by your friend,” He joked.

You smiled. “Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. I promise I’ll protect you.”

He kept walking with you, though— heading down the hallway toward the elevators— instead of turning around and going back to the room. You wondered if Robin hadn’t playfully threatened him (in your head, the only way you could imagine it was playful) would he still be this adamant about being with you right then.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“Did we really come here just so you could get cereal?”

“I told you not to come,” You said as you picked around the dry bowl of Cheerios. “Also, nothing would have happened to me if I was alone right now. Unless you think that that drunk couple would’ve kidnapped me or something if you weren’t here.”

You gestured in the direction of said couple that were the only other people at this buffet aside from a few workers; they were sitting barely twenty feet away from you and Steve and looked as if they were in their entirely own world as they shared a bowl of ice cream.

Both you and Steve abruptly looked away when they started passionately making out with each other.

You let out a quiet laugh. “Wow.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Steve started, grabbing a handful of cheerios from your bowl. “I don’t think kidnapping you would’ve been on either of their minds right now.”

You weren’t going to admit it, but you were actually glad that he stayed with you. Sitting at this random table with him in this near-empty room was a lot better than being alone with your thoughts.

You suddenly wondered what time it was, but you also didn’t care enough to check your phone. “What time do we have to meet your parents in the morning?”

“They wanna get breakfast at eight,” He answered, and you nodded at that. “Apparently, they’re really excited to see you.”

You gave him a skeptical look. “Normally, I would think that’s a good thing, but is it in this case?”

Steve shrugged. “Yes and no. At this point, I think it’s just gonna be a lot more of interrogating you— them trying to see if you’re truly the “right person for me” and all that bullshit. Pretty much the same thing that happened at the dinner, but it’ll probably feel a little worse since we’re gonna be seeing them a lot for the next few days. But still, even if they didn’t like you, they wouldn’t tell me to break up with you or anything, they’re mainly just happy that I’m in something serious.”

You nodded again. “I know your parents can be super intense and overbearing, but in some weird way, I think it’s actually kinda nice that they, at least, care, I guess, about your “love life.” I sometimes wish mine did.”

Steve shook his head. “Yeah, but mine don’t actually care, though. They’re only so focused on my love life because they care about themselves and their image.”

Maybe that should’ve been obvious to you. Because hearing him say that, and when you thought about all of the other things that he had told you before about his parents, it made a lot of sense. “Okay, I fully take back my previous statement.”

“What’s up with your parents, though? You never really talk about them,” Steve said. “How do they feel about you going on vacation with a guy you just met?”

You shrugged halfheartedly. “I don’t know how they feel about it because I kinda forgot to tell them. Well, not kinda, I did. I did forget to tell them about this.”

It had been the farthest thing from your mind. And deep down, you could even admit that you purposely pushed away the thought of telling them because you knew that they probably wouldn’t have cared that much about it, anyway.

“Oh,” Steve said, and then things became quiet. You wondered how insane you probably sounded to him right then, or how fucked he must’ve thought your relationships with your parents were if you didn’t tell them about this. “Okay, so if I don’t end up getting murdered by Robin after this trip, it’ll definitely be your dad then.”

You were immediately grateful for his lighthearted comment. You could feel yourself inwardly sighing in relief. The tenseness— that was probably only firmly planted on your side of things— quickly washed away. “That would never happen, but if it did, I’ll once again protect you.”

“Thank you, that’s all I ask,” He joked, smiling at you.

You were abruptly reaching over the table to fix his hair, there was a part of it that was sticking out weirdly— it was the bedhead, you figured. “Sorry, that was kinda bothering me. Anyway, this is very random and a complete one-eighty from what we were just talking about, but do you ever think about how different some things in your life would be, maybe even how better they would be, if certain things had ended up working out, or if they had ended up happening?”

Maybe it was the slight sleep deprivation that made you ask that question— that felt like it was the only thing that could correctly explain the abruptness of it. A similar version of that slightly confusing question had also been the exact thing that you’d been wondering about barely thirty minutes ago before you refused to continue to sit in silence and in your thoughts about Eddie.

You were pretty certain what your answer to it was— a resounding yes; you thought about “what-ifs” a lot, probably too much.

A part of you expected Steve to ask why you were asking that question, but he didn’t. “In what way do you mean?” He asked instead.

“Romantically,” You didn’t hesitate to answer, and then you shook your head at yourself when you realized what you were saying. “Actually, that’s probably so dumb of me to ask you since you don’t care about relationships and all of that.”

“I do think about it,” He told you. “Old relationships and stuff. What went wrong, what could’ve gone better…” He trailed off, letting out an awkward laugh and breaking your gaze. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, this is probably way too much for a middle-of-the-night conversation,” You said and realized just how true that was. You now wished that you had brought up some random lighthearted question about a movie or something.

“No, it’s fine. I’ve just never really talked about this before,” Steve said, and you were about to tell him that he didn’t have to talk about it now if he didn’t want to, but he continued before you could say anything. “Um, I think saying old relationships is a stretch, actually. I’ve mainly just thought a lot about the last one, I guess.”

The high school relationship that he had mentioned to you on Valentine’s Day, you remembered. It was the last serious one he’d been in. You wondered what it had been like, how equal parts amazing and devastating it must’ve been if it turned him off of relationships completely for the foreseeable future.

“This question is probably so stupid, so please feel free to tell me exactly that, but do you ever miss her?”

“Sometimes, sure, yeah. But, it never really happens that much anymore. And whenever I feel like I miss her now, I think it’s more of me just missing what we used to be instead of me really missing her specifically. Does that make sense?” He looked up at you then and you nodded. You honestly felt as if you understood him completely— missing the picture itself but not necessarily who was in it.

It was that analogy that somehow made you realize something that you maybe should’ve realized earlier. Specifically, during the moment also on Valentine’s Day when you asked him why he didn’t do relationships and he pretty much said that he didn’t want to get his heart broken again. He was scared of it now, of love and relationships. It wasn’t just about it being easier not being in relationships and not falling for someone, it was about it being a scary fucking thing to do again.

It honestly made a lot of sense. So much sense that you really didn’t understand why it didn’t hit you sooner.

You didn’t say this to him, though, because it didn’t feel right to, and a part of you also really hoped that you were entirely wrong about it. Because this would shift everything that you thought you knew and understood about him.

It would be a thousand times easier if you solely took everything that he previously said to you at face value. If your understanding of him and who he was and what he wanted was as simple as what he had told you that night outside the arcade and what he’d been telling you this entire past month. He didn’t want to get involved in anything serious for simply that exact reason— he didn’t want to.

You had only nodded in response to his “Does that make sense?” question and you knew that you probably should’ve said actual words, but you couldn’t think of what exactly to say right then. And then Steve was speaking again before you could figure something out.

“And I guess that’s when I kinda think about that question you asked— wondering about how different things would be if it all had actually worked out,” He said. You’d completely forgotten that that question had even started this conversation. “But, it’s kinda hopeless and dumb to think about it, though, right? Because the outcome can never change, so what’s the point of even wondering about it?”

“Yeah, exactly,” You said softly, abruptly thinking about Eddie again. “What’s the point…”

Steve looked at you for a second before giving you a small smile. “Why was that question on your mind at,” He pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time. “One-thirteen in the morning?”

You suddenly felt really close to telling him what happened at Eddie’s place days ago, and the conclusion that you had come to about everything; the timing honestly felt pretty perfect. But, you still couldn’t do it.

It wasn’t about you feeling sad about the entire thing, it was about feeling stupid. And you honestly didn’t even think that Steve would judge you or think that you were stupid— he’d probably feel bad for you, you realized, which somehow felt a thousand times worse.

“I don’t know… I’m always getting randomly existential in the middle of the night, I think,” You answered, and then immediately shifted the subject. “Hey, what’s the name of your cousin who’s getting married?”

“Charlotte.”

“Okay, got it,” You nodded. “I felt like that was information I should probably know.”

“And her fiance’s name is Charlie.”

A part of you wanted to laugh, but you held it back. “Woah.”

Steve nodded, also recognizing how slightly ridiculous that was. “Yeah. Once again, I’m sorry that I’m putting you through this whole thing.”

You gave him a playful smile. “As long as you protect me from any weird family members, like I’m protecting you from Robin, I’ll be fine.”

You remembered then that this fake dating thing wasn’t at all about you anymore, it was about him. And you quickly decided that you’d make sure to play the “happy and in love” girlfriend part really well— just like he had for you this past month— so that he could get what he needed out of this. Because, at this point, that was all that really mattered.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You gave Steve’s hand a quick squeeze. “Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Your parents are looking over here. Just do like a quick peck thing,” You said, looking up at him.

He didn’t question you further and instead closed the small bit of distance between you two and pressed his lips against yours. You weren’t sure if you expected it to feel weird or unnatural, but it didn’t. Actually, it happened so quickly that it really didn’t feel like anything at all.

When he pulled away, you gave him the sweetest smile that you hoped didn’t seem too exaggerated or fake, as you two continued walking toward his parents and a handful of his other family members.

That would probably be the easiest part of the next few hours. Before you were forced to embark on a hike that you weren’t at all excited for, but Steve couldn’t get you two out of. It was during breakfast when his mom mentioned it and she was so adamant about making you and Steve come along too.

“It’s gonna be fun. According to the tour guide, we’re going to get to see the prettiest view of a waterfall,” Anne had said and you finally nodded and agreed to go because you knew that she wasn’t going to take Steve’s attempts to say no as an answer.

Now it was two hours after that forced yes and you were in an outfit that didn’t feel entirely great for a hike— denim shorts and a black tank top— but it was the best that you could do; you hadn’t prepared “hiking outfits,” or any sort of workout attire for that matter. And walking over to Steve’s parents and other family members, which he quickly whispered to you were a few of his cousins and aunt and uncle, and seeing them look a lot more prepared than you were, didn’t do much to ease your sudden out-of-place feelings.

“We still have a few minutes before we have to leave, come to the gift shop with me,” Anne said to you before either you or Steve could say any sort of greeting to her and his dad.

You gave her a small smile and let your hand drop from Steve’s. “Okay.”

You met his eyes for the briefest second and he gave you an encouraging look, and then you were following his mom to the gift shop that was right next to the lobby.

“How’s everything going?” Anne asked you as she started looking around the small shop, stopping at a shelf of ceramic mugs.

The question felt weirdly vague, but you still answered it as if you weren’t slightly confused. “It’s been good. Thank you again for everything. You really didn’t have to invite me to this whole thing.”

“Yes, of course, no problem. Tom and I are happy you’re here,” She smiled at you. “And we can tell that Steve is too.”

Inwardly, you waited for the shoe to drop. For her to suddenly come out and say that she and Tom actually hated you because you weren’t from “their world” and you hadn’t been handpicked by them.

However, with what Steve reminded you about last night, you remembered that it wasn’t about that. It wasn’t about them liking or not liking you as a person, it was about them being happy that Steve was simply in a “serious relationship.” And all you and him had to do was show that.

“I’m glad that you guys approve of our relationship,” You said, looking away from the bracelet in your hand that cost way too much and made you realize that this gift shop was way too fancy. You met Anne’s eyes. “Steve was worried about that. It was why he waited so many months before telling you guys about us.”

“Well, it’s probably obvious that you’re not exactly who we would’ve chosen for him. We always wanted him to be with a certain type of girl from a specific kind of family, you know?” You nodded at her words because it felt like that was all there was to do. “But, maybe this is better for him; at least, for now. And it’s so easy to see that you make him happy— probably more than Nancy ever did all those years ago— so that’s great.”

Nancy. Finally knowing her name made her feel more real to you. You still knew absolutely nothing about her, though, aside from the fact that she and Steve had been happy and in love at one point in time.

You weren’t entirely sure how to respond to Anne’s words that felt like the kind of compliment that was actually more of an insult. It was almost funny because there it finally was, somewhat of a shoedrop. She really didn’t like you.

But, clearly, the show you and Steve were putting on was working, and you were inwardly sighing in relief at that realization because that was all that mattered. Ultimately, you decided to simply smile at her. “Thank you. He makes me really happy too.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick , @bisexual-and-intellectual , @munsonburn3r , @negomi123 , @khena , @facexthexsunshine , @seatbacksandtraytables , @suckerfordylansstuff

(if your user is crossed out it means i can’t tag you</3)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #bestfriend!eddie munson #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #stranger things fluff #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington series #stranger things series #stranger things fic

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aubaee · 4 months ago

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class buddy — p.js

enhypen jay head cannon

classmate!Jay whom you met as your desk mate in college.

classmate!Jay is chic with a mysterious aura around him, his demeanor drawing you closer in curiosity.

classmate!Jay who dresses fashionably in a vintage style with his favorite cologne.

classmate!Jay who asks to be your partner in the upcoming project for your class.

classmate!Jay asks for your phone number to discuss about the project once you’re outside of class

"hey, is it okay if we can exchange numbers? Now that we're partners in this project together."

classmate!Jay invites you to go to the library together, using the excuse of “research” for the project

"when are you free so we can go work together?"

classmate!Jay who you get to know as someone with a firm resolve in his beliefs.

classmate!Jay whom you get to know as someone with a unique sense of humor, sometimes pulling dad jokes out of context.

classmate!Jay who you get to know as a person with a warm, selfless, and pure heart.

classmate!Jay who saves a seat for you in class if you’re slightly late.

classmate!Jay in which you enjoy his company during class as he never fails to make you laugh.

classmate!Jay whom you get close to for the remaining of the semester despite finishing the project together.

classmate!Jay invites you to go out for drinks at a cafe he recommended since he found out about your interest in trying new drinks/foods.

classmate!Jay in which you get really close to after spending time outside of class together.

bestfriend!Jay who thought of you and sends you messages regarding a new restaurant he went to with his guy best friends

"we should go together here next time, I think you'd enjoy it"

bestfriend!Jay who matches your energy and jokes around with, occasionally bickering with each other

"let's play fair at least!!"

bestfriend!Jay is afraid of the horror genre but tries his best to watch horror movies with you because he knows you enjoy the thrill of it

"ahh I told you that would happen! now look who's being haunted next."

bestfriend!Jay who sends funny memes on social platforms to share laughter with you

"this is us" "why does it remind me of you from that one time?? lol"

bestfriend!Jay who pays attention to the smallest details of you, especially noticing your habits, which he thinks is cute.

bestfriend!Jay who’s love language is acts of service, in which he plays close attention to you a lot.

“Here, I cooked this for you since you told me it was your favorite.”

“My dish will become the best you’ve ever had.”

bestfriend!Jay who carries an extra hair tie in case you needed it because you either lost it or forgot.

bestfriend!Jay who keeps an extra pouch (comb, hair clip, pads/tampons, cough drops) of your stuff in his car glove box, just in case you forgot to bring an item you needed.

bestfriend!Jay who comforts you when you’re going through a hard time regarding your family, academics, or relationships.

bestfriend!Jay who enjoys cooking for you just to see you smile.

bestfriend!Jay plays the guitar occasionally when he comes over to your apartment complex.

bestfriend!Jay whom you have an annual weekend together to travel far outside of the city.

bestfriend!Jay who treats you out for cafe dates just cause

"let's go out"

a/n: hi hii, hope you enjoy this really short cannon of Jay. for sure there will be more scenarios along the way~ the idea came up to me in the middle of the night as i was streaming their comeback for XO (only if you say yes). 🚨 also if you haven’t yet pls stream their XO (OIYSY) mv, esp on Spotify or Apple Music, and vote for ENHYPEN on all voting platforms (ALLCHART/U Pick/Mnet+/Superstar X/Mubeat)! Thank youu! ♡

☆ please like & reblog ☆

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chosoguapo · 11 months ago

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𝒥𝒥𝒦 𝑀𝐸𝒩 𝒲𝐼𝒯𝐻 𝒮𝒜𝒩𝑅𝐼𝒪 𝒢𝐼𝑅𝐿𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝒩𝒟𝒮 x black fems! ⤷ content: just a lot of fluff really and some suggestive stuff but nothing descriptive. itadori & megumi are aged up to 18 (to seem more exclusive since i think you can imagine them like this at anytime), but it’s all for fluff reasons. Merry Christmas ❤️💚🤍

signed mumu . . . just fun hdcs with our favorite jjk men, some suggestive content, but nothing overly descriptive. any kind of support is appreciated buns <3 @hoori @ifuckslasherz @scarfac3 @sukuette @pekejs @yeagersex | banner credit to @cafekitsune

itadori with a hello kitty girlfriend

❤︎ we saw this coming, what can i say two main characters belong together. you both enjoy being out all the time, whether that’s just spending time with each or friends. just being out and about with each other.

❤︎ a lot of times people like to think itadori doesn’t have a girlfriend when he mentions he does have one. the way he goes on and on to brag about you to his closest friends. you’d think you’re some fictional character from a game, but no you are his and only his!

megumi with a pochacco girlfriend

❤︎ there is never a dull moment between the two of you. as you both can make the smallest things into a competition between each other. let anyone simply ask “who’s better at ___?” you both are jumping at the opportunity to beat the others ass.

❤︎ the way you two ended up together is a mystery to yourself, but also so funny. your brother was a delinquent that often got into arguments with other students. just this one time he decided to bother megumi which didn’t end well for him. of course you went to go stand up for your brother and cuss out the jackass you put his hands on your family. but let’s just say…. you got completely distracted and ended up bonding with the guy? you overheard him talking about one of your favorite special interests and couldn’t help but join in. it’s rare that you find someone else who deeply loves something like you.

nanami with a melody girlfriend

❤︎ nanami with his melody girlfriend are such a odd but complimenting couple. the both of you have an understanding, you love being the “traditional girlfriend” while he loves being a “traditional boyfriend.” basically he provides for you while you spend his money on all your precious desires (he prefers it this way).

❤︎ often you find yourself on top of nanami almost every night. often you find yourself having silly little nightmares from recent horror movies you’ve watched, but nanami is always there to comfort you. he hovers over, without letting you feel any of his weight. “here take melody” he tucks her into you and kiss you on the head before cuddling up with you.

geto with batz a maru girlfriend

❤︎ oh boy! two people who look like absolute meanies but care so deeply for the ones who know them best. relationship consists of you two constantly picking on each other or just plain embarrassing the other.

❤︎ geto’s most fondest memory with you is when you both first met for a blind date. it was at a bar that is now only but a block away from where you both call home. he remembers you getting so drunk that you couldn’t even properly write your signature that night. geto had never seen someone show how genuine they are with their real personality, jokes, and being loud as hell. he loved that you didn’t feel the need to hide yourself for others benefit.

gojo with a cinnamoroll girlfriend

❤︎ you know how everyone loves the girlfriend that speaks for their boyfriend when the waiter gets his food wrong? well that’s the dynamic you and gojo have, but he’s the one who speaks up for you.

❤︎ sometimes you find that a lot of your cinnamoroll plushies are missing and that because of no one other than you boyfriend. gojo enjoys taking them and putting them in his office to dress them up as a mini version of him. “doesn’t he look way better with my shades on” he proudly displays cinnamoroll with a mini version of the outfit he has on.

sukuna with a kuromi girlfriend

❤︎ naturally sukuna would gravitate towards a kuromi girl. someone that’s just as rebellious and mischievous as him, but also girly at the same time.

❤︎ sukuna loves getting reactions out of you. something like hiding your favorite plushie. can get you so heated and he loves seeing that side of you come out. when you come to him to ask where he placed it, he always pretends he has no clue as to what you’re chatting about. “oh, you’re talking about that black and purple plushies of yours right?” “yes!” “ i don’t recall ever seeing it love” he says with a wink.

choso with a mocha girlfriend

❤︎ you two are the perfect example of a pink aesthetic girlfriend with a black aesthetic boyfriend. do people constantly question you both being together because of your different aesthetics? yes, but doesn’t choso give them a death stare for it? absolutely yes!

❤︎ choso is too shy to admit it to you but he loves cuddling you or just being able to touch you in anyway you allow him to. he prefers to sleep in your room filled up to the brim with pink and he cherishes every second of it.

toji with a choco cat girlfriend

❤︎ a mischievous and carrying boyfriend with the laid back girlfriend that’s friendly. dare i say that how toji acts with you is like a golden retriever but in a black cat form. he’s does all the carrying and doting things regular boyfriends do, but he always had to remind you who he is at heart. which is a childish man with a fat cock!

❤︎ toji knows how self-conscious you get when going to the gym. not because of the curves you possess, but because you feel like you’re doing the workouts completely wrong. which is why he always has to be your hype man at the gym. while your taking pictures for your social media hes right behind you slapping your ass. “beautiful just beautiful” he says as he slaps your ass again and leaving a kiss on your cheek.

#gojo headcanons #jjk fluff #choso headcanons #jjk x reader #toji headcanons #jjk headcanons #geto headcanons #itadori x reader #jjk.txt #megumi headcanons #sanrio #jjk x you #black reader #jjk men #jjk multi #ᕱ⑅ᕱ ۪𝒔𝒊𝒈𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒎𝒖𝒎𝒖 ۪ ۫ 〜

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sweet-villain · 2 months ago

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Stumble Confessions ~ Steve Harrington

Summary : You confess to Steve how you feel and it doesn't go well.

The air crackled with the smell of burnt popcorn as the flickering light from the TV danced across the room. Laughter erupted from Steve, his head thrown back, as you gathered the courage to speak.

“Steve, I need to tell you something.”

He turned, puzzled.

“Is this about the movie? Because I thought we agreed it was terrible.”

“No, it’s about us.” Your voice trembled, the words stacking up behind a wall of doubt.

“Us?”

“Yeah. I like you.” A sigh escaped as the confession slipped free, a fragile thing in the chaos of his laughter.

“You’re joking.” Steve wiped tears from the corners of his eyes, still chuckling. “You’re serious?”

“Do you think I’d joke about this?” His laughter stung, tiny nails scraping against your heart.

“C’mon,” he said, trying to catch his breath. “You’re like, my best friend. This is…” His words faded into a breathy chuckle, the comedy of it thrumming between you.

You glanced away, the room suddenly drowning in silence. The TV buzzed on, oblivious to the shift.

“Forget it,” you said, barely above a whisper.

As he turned back to the screen, the weight of unsaid things hung heavy in the air, cracking like static.

Steve mumbled something, still fixated on the flickering horror movie, but gave nothing more than a casual shrug.

“Seriously?” You tightened your fists, your pulse pounding. “You can

“You can't just laugh it off, Steve. You’re not even trying to take me seriously.”

“Okay, okay.” He turned slightly, the humor fading from his eyes. “I just didn’t expect… Well, it kind of blindsided me. "

"Look, you’re like a sister to me,” he said, fidgeting with the popcorn bowl. “This isn’t exactly what I envisioned when I invited you over for movie night.”

“A sister?” The bitterness coated your words like oil, "Oh forgot, you're still hung on Nancy" His expression shifted, a flash of defensiveness replacing the amusement. “It’s not like that.”

“Then what is it, Steve? You think we fit into pre-worn boxes? Can’t a friendship be something more?”

" You're being childish," Steve mutters. His shoulders squared, the flicker of irritation igniting in his eyes.

“Childish?” You felt the heat rising to your face. “Having feelings isn’t childish. You just don’t get it, do you?”

" You have a silly crush on me, it will go away" His words clipped through the air, sharp and dismissive. You clenched your jaw, fighting the sting of rising anger mingled with hurt.

"That’s all you see? Just a crush?” The words spilled out, unable to hold back any longer.

“Let’s be real, you and I? We live in different worlds.” He waved his hands, gesturing around the cluttered room. “You’re endless daydreams while I’m just…me. And I’m still figuring it out. You think we could just click like that? It’s complicated.”

“Complicated?” You laughed, but it sounded hollow. “You think love needs a roadmap?”

" Love? Now your in over your head silly girl" Steve rolled his eyes, a defensive mask slipping over his features. “I’m just saying… what we have is solid. Why mess with it?”

“Because what we have isn’t enough for me.” You crossed your arms, feeling the walls close.

" It's always about you, huh?" Steve’s eyes narrowed. “You think I don’t care? You think I enjoy hurting you like this?”

“You’re not hurting me. You just don’t see.” You met his gaze, a fire flickering in the depth of your own.

The conversation stops there and you leave for the night.

The streetlights flickered as you stepped outside, the chill of the night air biting through your jacket. The laughter behind you felt like a ghost, haunting the space where your hope had just dissolved. Shadows danced along the pavement, twisting with your thoughts

You paused at the curb, the chill wrapping around you like a shroud. The moon hung high, casting silver beams onto the empty street. You caught your breath, each inhale heavy with the sharpness of rejection.

The quiet thrum of the night enveloped you. You pulled your jacket tighter, fighting back the chill both outside and within.

The night deepened as you paced along the deserted street, each footfall punctuating the silence. A distant echo of Steve’s laughter lingered in the back of your mind, a cruel reminder of what could never be.

The wind whispered tales

You leaned against the lamppost, the harsh light flickering intermittently. A low rumble of an approaching car disturbed the stillness. The vehicle glided by, its headlights slicing through the darkness, offering a brief glimpse of a world untouched by your turmoil. You stared at its retreating tail lights, warmth fading as it disappeared into the distance.

From the shadows, voices drifted towards you—kids laughing, carefree in their twilight play. It felt like a distant echo. They chased each other down the street, their joy stark against the cold air enveloping you.

You shoved your hands deeper into your pockets, a cold reminder of Steve’s laughter wrapping around your heart like a vice. How could he not see?

As the echoes of laughter faded, you turned toward home, the pavement underfoot feeling rough and unyielding. Each step drove the reality of your situation deeper into your chest.

A haunting melody floated through the night air, the sound unfamiliar yet compelling. You paused, straining to pinpoint its origin. It rang in crystalline fragments, echoing off the walls of nearby houses and blending into the wind’s whispers.

Blood pours down your nose and in confusion you wipe it away. You stared at the crimson smear on your fingers, disbelief mixing with a sudden rush of adrenaline.

The door creaked as you pushed it open, the familiar scent of stained wood and fading lavender filling the entryway. You stepped inside, the warmth cocooning you, yet the chill of rejection still lingered at the edges.

"Are you alright?" Grandma’s voice broke through the haze of your thoughts, her figure framed in the soft glow of the hallway. She hovered there, worry etched across her brow.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. The blood turned your fingertipsa dark maroon, a stark contrast to the pale wood of the entryway.

“Your nose looks bad.” Grandma stepped closer, her concern mounting.

“Just a little bump,” you said, forcing a smile, but it faltered,as your mind flickered back to the laughter that echoed in the air, sharp as shards of glass. Grandma's hand brushed against your cheek, the warmth of her palm a stark contrast to the chill settling deep in your bones.

“You know, I remembers those days when you used to tell me everything.” Grandma's voice softened, nostalgia dancing in her eyes. “You can talk to me, dear.”

The warmth of her concern mixed with the cold ache in your chest. You wanted to spill everything, but the words caught in your throat, entangled in a web of hurt and confusion.

“I just… I told Steve how I feel,” you finally managed, your gaze dropping to the floor, avoiding the tender scrutiny of her eyes.

"Did he make fun of you?” Grandma’s voice clipped through the air, sharp with protective instinct.

You swallowed hard, the taste of humiliation bitter on your tongue. “He laughed. Said it was ridiculous. Just a silly crush.”

“Kids can be cruel, especially when they don’t understand,” Grandma said, her voice steadier than you felt.

“Cruel?” You shook your head, your hands curling into fists. “He’s not a kid. He’s just… Steve. And he doesn’t get it. Maybe he never will.”

“People are often blind to what’s right in front of them.” Grandma brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, her gaze softened by years of wisdom. “But that doesn’t diminish your feelings. It takes courage to be honest about what you want.”

“I just wish…” The words hung suspended, heavy with unresolved longing. “I wish he could see me.”

Grandma studied you for a moment, her eyes reflecting a depth of understanding that cut through the pain.

“What do you need him to see?” she asked, her tone gentle but probing.

“He needs to see me as something more. Not just his best friend,” you said, frustration leaking into your voice. “I’m not just a backup plan or someone to laugh at.”

" Get some rest, dear" your grandma kissed your head. The warmth of your grandmother’s kiss lingered, but the comfort faded with every heartbeat. You turned away, the urge to fight bubbling beneath the surface.

Heading up the stairs, you walked into your room feeling it cold as you glance at the picture of your mother. " I miss you mom" The photograph stared back, capturing her smile in a moment of sun-drenched joy. You traced your fingertip over its glossy surface, the warmth of memory clashing with the chill in your heart. The room felt suffocating, the walls closing in as shadows crept along the edges of your vision. You tossed your jacket onto the bed, frustration igniting a spark in your chest.

You paced back and forth, the wooden floor creaking under your steps. Memories flooded your mind—the laughter you shared, the late-night conversations where secrets spilled like candy wrappers scattered on the floor, the moments when it felt like you were the only two souls in the universe. Yet tonight, it felt tainted by the echo of rejection, the sour taste of his laughter still curling in your ears.

" You won't be good enough for him" the voice spoke to you. But you don't know who it is as you turned around in your room in fright. The air thickened, heavy with silence, as if the very walls held their breath. You glanced over your shoulder, your pulse quickening. Shadows twisted, melding into each other, forming shapes that felt simultaneously familiar and threatening.

A knot formed inyour stomach, twisting tighter with each fleeting shadow.

You pressed your back against the door, bracing for something—anything—to leap from the darkness. Your breath quickened as the soft echoes of the night filtered through the window.

Then, likea sudden gust of wind, the shadows receded into drapes of darkness, leaving only stillness in their wake. You dared to breathe, the air thick with the scent of old wood and mothballs, tinged with something unsettling.

Darkness settled over the days like a heavy blanket, smothering thoughts, and breath. Nights blurred together, each one winding tighter around you, a relentless grip that threatened to suffocate all logic. Your mind raced between thoughts of Steve and the eerie whispers that danced around the edges of sleep. Each time you closed your eyes, shadows creeped closer, wrapping themselves around you like tendrils of smoke. You lay wide awake, the memory of Steve’s laughter echoing relentlessly while the air felt thick with something unspoken.

The thin slip of paper landed softly on your desk, its edges curling slightly as it slid into place. You looked at Nancy, her brow furrowed, the concern in her eyes cutting through the fog of confusion.

You unfolded the note, the paper crinkling quietly in your hands.

*Hey, are you okay? I saw your nose…*

It felt like a lifeline thrown into a sea of chaos. You glanced around the classroom, the mundane chatter fading into a muffled backdrop as you focused on Nancy’s note. *I’m fine,* you scribbled back, each stroke of the pen wishing the weight in your heart away. But even as you scrawled the words, you felt he truth press against your ribs, heavy and unyielding.

Your name was called in a whisper distance. “Hey, you okay?” Nancy leaned closer, her voice a concerned whisper. “You’ve been out of it.”

You forced a smile, though it felt more like a mask slipping awkwardly in place.

“I’m fine.”

Nancy leaned in, her eyes narrowing with determination. “This isn’t like you. The nosebleeds, the days off… Something's off, isn’t it? You can talk to me.”

You shook your head, feeling the pressure build in your chest.

“It’s just… everything’s fine. Really.” A forced laugh escaped your lips, brittle and unnatural.

“Don’t do that.” Nancy’s gaze drilled into you, unwavering. “You can’t brush this off. I can sense there’s more. You’re not fine, and I know it.”

“Fine, you want the truth?” You leaned closer, the classroom buzzing around you fading into the background. “I’m just… a little stressed. That’s all of it.”

Nancy crossed her arms, unwavering. “Stressed? What, over school? That doesn’t explain your nose. You look like you haven’t slept in days.”

Nancy decides to ask you, " Have you been hearing clock chimes?" The question hung in the air like a whispered secret. You stared at her, blinking against the flood of memories and strange sounds that invaded your nights.

“Clock chimes?” Confusion twisted in your gut. “What do you mean?”

In your head, like your seeing things too?" The world around you faded, leaving only Nancy's voice echoing against the backdrop of your swirling thoughts. You leaned closer, aware of the weight of the moment pressing down.

“I think…I think I’ve heard them,” you admitted, the admission.

Nancy face paled as she understood what was happening. " We have to tell the others, your in danger." The words hit you like a punch to the gut, the gravity of the situation pooling in your stomach. “Danger? What do you mean by that?”

“We know what’s been happening in Hawkins,” Nancy said, her voice dropping to a near whisper, urgency threading through her words. “The disappearances, the strange occurrences. They’ve all been linked to Vecna. If he’s after you…”

Your heart raced, the weight of those words pressing down like a leaden blanket.

Vecna is… well, he’s not just a myth anymore,” Nancy murmured, glancing over her shoulder, as if the name itself might summon shadows. “He’s connected to the disappearances. The kids… They’re victims."

"Am I a victim?" Nancy’s eyes widened, the gravity of your question hanging in the space between you. “I don’t know, but if you’re hearing things... If things are happening to you… It could be a sign.”

" I keep hearing my name called and clock chimes. I heard talking in my head too" Nancy’s gaze sharpened, piecing together the fragments of your fragmented account. “This isn’t good. We need to figure out what's happening and quickly."

“Figure out what?” Panic clawed at your throat. “What do we do?”

We have to tell the others" she closed her books and stood up. " come on, let's go. We don't have much time." With a single glance back at the classroom, you followed Nancy’s lead, your heart pounding against your ribcage. The hustle of students faded as you hurried out into the sun-drenched hallway, where the fluorescent lights flickered above, mir

roring the chaos within you. Each step felt heavier as you navigated through the sea of students, their laughter and chatter blurring into noise that masked your racing thoughts.

“Stay close,” Nancy urged, her tone urgent as she cut through the crowd of students. The halls seemed to stretch endlessly, lockers slamming and feet pounding against the linoleum floor. The buzz of youthful chaos faded into white noise, but your heart drummed relentlessly in your chest.

“Where are we going?” you asked. " Steve's house, everyone will meet us there" Nancy navigated the throng of students, her determination cutting a path through the chaos. You ducked under the fluorescent light fixtures, their flickering reflections dancing in your periphery. The tightening in your chest pushed you forward, though doubt clung.

The lights began to flicker causing you to stop in your tracks, fearing the worst. “Nancy!” Panic strummed through your voice, slicing through the din. “What’s happening?”

She turned to face you, her brow knotted. “Just keep moving. Don’t stop.”

They both get into the car as Nancy drives off fearing the worst is to come, looking at you seeing how lost you are in all of this. The car’s engine roared to life, a rumbling counterpoint to the chaos building in your chest. Nancy’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white against the black leather. As she turned the corner, you stole glances at the passing buildings, their familiar shapes blurring into streaks of color. The world outside felt unmoored, each street a stranger as the gravity of your situation sank deeper.

“Do you really think Vecna is after me?” Fear curled in the pit of your stomach, biting and relentless.

“I don’t know for sure, but we can't take any chances,” Nancy said, her voice steady despite the tension in the air. The car accelerated, tires screeching against the asphalt as Nancy navigated the streets with a focus that bordered on frantic, her eyes darting between the road and the rearview mirror, as if expecting something sinister to loom just out of sight.

“I can feel it, Nancy.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, a raw confession tearing from your chest.

The car comes to a stop at Steve's house as she races with you hot on her tail inside where she throws the door open, " Vecna is after Y/N" she steps aside as your eyes land on Steve, Mike, Eddie, Lucas, Max, Steve and the others. The air in the room hung heavy, the ticking of a clock marking your racing heartbeat as you entered. Conversations faded into silence, eyes turning toward you and Nancy, the weight of the moment suffocating. Eddie leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he surveyed the scene, his usually playful demeanor replaced with a sharp attention that cut through the tension.

“What’s going on?” Lucas leaned forward, eyes glinting with concern.

“We think Vecna might be targeting Y/N,” Nancy leaned back slightly, her voice steady despite the storm brewing around you. “It’s serious. She’s been hearing things, and—”

“Things?” Eddie interrupted, dark eyebrows knit together inquisitively. “What kind of things?”

“I’ve been hearing chimes,” you said, the words spilling out as if they'd been locked away for too long. “And voices. Sometimes my name. It’s like—” You hesitated, the shadows of uncertainty creeping back in, but you forced yourself to continue. “It’s like someone’s calling me. And it happens in the quiet moments, especially at night.”

Steve crossed his arms, a guarded expression settling on his face.

He exchanged a glance with Nancy, tension popping in the air.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice rang flat, eyes locked onto yours, but the weight of his words felt charged, electric.

"Because… I thought it was just stress. I didn’t want to freak anyone out,” you admitted, the confession tasting bitter against your tongue. Every face in the room stared back, a sea of concern and disbelief washing over you.

“Plus it's my parent's death anniversary tomorrow.." The room fell into a heavy silence, each word landing like a stone. Steve’s expression shifted, the lines of amusement from earlier giving way to an unsettling concern.

“Shit.” Mike’s voice cut through the quiet.

" Language!" Nancy shouts. “Sorry,” Mike muttered, his eyes darting between you and the others as the mood thickened.

“Maybe we should've figured this out earlier,” Lucas said, shifting nervously. “What if it’s already started?”

“It has started,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, the truth settling heavily in the room. “I feel it. Every day gets worse.”

Eddie pushed off the wall, stepping closer, his presence a small comfort against the weight of fear that constricted your chest. “We need to figure out how to stop it,” he said, determination glinting in his eyes. “No way are we letting Vecna get to you.”

“Exactly.” Nancy nodded, her gaze unwavering.

The lights were flickering earlier in school today" you tell them. “Flickering?” Steve’s brows furrowed, tension tightening the lines around his eyes. “Like, just like that night?”

“Exactly,” you replied, the weight of his earlier laughter hanging heavy in the air. “It’s almost as if he's coming."

Steve ran a hand through his hair, the familiar gesture grounded in confusion and worry. “Look, we can’t wait around for something bad to happen. We need to take control of this.”

You were out of trance as you heard your name being called louder, this time closer and more evil. It was him. Vecna. The shadows thickened, wrapping around you like a shroud, your heart hammering against your ribcage.

“Y/N!” The call slithered through the air, dripping with malice.

Guys!" Dustin shouted. " Her eyes!" Your heart lurched, an icy grip tightening around your throat. You blinked, instinctively rubbing your eyes, but that only deepened the horror. A dark haze encroached on your vision, twisting the air around you into something suffocating and oppressive.

“Y/N!” The voice grew louder, more insistent, invading your mind like an unwelcome guest. The shadows writhed, and with them, dread surged, pulling you deeper and deeper into an abyss.

Steve began to panic seeing you eyes and you weren't replying back to him as he shook you over and over. “Y/N! Talk to me!” Steve’s grip tightened, shaking you as if trying to rattle sense back into you. His voice cut through the haze, but the darkness coiled tighter, a vice around your thoughts.

Eddie took your one side and yelled in your ear to help. “Y/N! Snap out of it!” Eddie’s voice broke through the haze, frantic and sharp. His hands gripped your shoulders, shaking you slightly, as if trying to jar your consciousness back from the darkness.

" You can't do this, not now. Not ever!" Steve shouted.The room blurred, a whirlpool of colors and shapes narrowing into a single point of darkness. You tried to grasp onto the voices, the echoes wrapping around you like tendrils, pulling you deeper into the abyss.

“Y/N!”

You snapped back out it but crowed in fear as you saw him in your head. He was close. Your heart raced as the figure loomed in the shadows of your mind, ethereal yet tangible—a grotesque silhouette with hollow eyes boring into you, a void staring back, endlessly deep. You felt cold sweat trickle down your spine, panic pooling.

" I'm going to die.." you mumbled, snapping out of it. "You’re not going to die!" Steve’s voice sliced through the ambient noise, desperation creeping into the edges of his tone. He pulled you closer, his eyes fierce with resolve.

“I swear, I can see him! He’s coming! Vecna is trying to take me!” Your voice trembled, a raw edge of panic seeping through the cracks of your composure.

“Not on my watch!” Steve’s grip tightened. The urgency in his voice cut through the chaos as the gathered friends.

“Y/N, we’re not going to let that happen,” Eddie said, his tone steady but laced with urgency. “We’re a team, remember?”

" Friends till the end" Eddie bumps your head with his playfully. You cracked a weak smile, the warmth of his jest breaking through the fog, if only for a moment.

Steve’s intensity didn’t waver. “Alright, we need a plan. Has anyone found something related to Vecna’s pattern?”

All eyes turned to Mike, who fumbled with his notes, the pages crinkling in his anxious grip. “I have some stuff on the disappearances. It’s like he’s targeting people with… unresolved grief or trauma. It’s a-" he stops.

" He wants you to relive how your parents died. That's your truama. You were in the car? " You recoiled, disbelief rushing through you like ice water. “No. No, that can’t be right.” A wave of nausea crashed over you, each heartbeat echoing memories you wished to bury.

“Y/N…” Steve began, his voice steady yet filled with an urgency that sent shivers down your spine. “It’s not just about them. It’s about you. Vecna is powerful; he feeds on your fears. We can’t let him exploit that.”

" I was only six years old when my parents died. It was horrible. I was found with my leg broken in my mother's hands.. it was in the papers.." you tell them. The silence that enveloped the room pressed down like a heavy blanket, each word echoing in the charged air. You could feel the pity in their stares, the concern etched on their faces, and it only deepened the ache in your chest.

He's going to use my mother isn't he?" The question hung heavily in the air, its weight palpable. Silence filled the room, thick and suffocating, as if the shadows themselves were listening, poised to ensnare you in memory.

“Y/N…” Nancy stepped forward, eyes wide with compassion. “We can’t let him get into your head. We need you to fight this.”

“Fight what?” The bitterness in your voice surprised you, but the edges of fear curled at your spine. “How am I supposed to, Fight what? How am I supposed to fight something that’s already in my head?”

Nancy stepped closer, her expression fierce, determination shining through her gaze. “You aren’t alone. We’ll help you face him. We’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe.”

“We’ll find something to counter him,” Lucas said, a hint of bravado tinging his voice. “We’ve faced down monsters before. We’ll do it again.”

“Together,” Max chimed in, her voice steady, a fierce light sparking in her eyes. You looked around the room, at the faces of your friends—each one a pillar of strength against the rising tide of dread.

“Together,” you repeated, though the tremor in your

oice betrayed the fear clawing at your insides.

“Alright, let’s get to work.” Steve’s gaze settled on a large whiteboard propped against the wall.

He strode over, markers in hand, determination emanating from him likea blazing fire. He scribbled down notes, brainstorming ideas, while your breaths came in short bursts, the weight of the moment pressing down on your shoulders.

“Okay, we’ll need to review everything we know about Vecna,” Steve declared his voice steady as he turned back to the group. “We have to figure out his weaknesses and what he feeds on. If he’s targeting unresolved grief and trauma, we can’t let him use that against you.”

You stepped forward, heart thundering in your chest, desperate to contribute despite the hollow feeling that gnawed at your insides.

“I can think of moments…experiences,” you started, your voice shaky. “Things that might give him power. Memories that I can't run from.”

The room shuddered with silence, a heavy weight settling upon everyone. Each face turned toward yours, expressions ranging from concern to resolve, a mixture reflecting back all you feared and all you hoped.

“Tell us,” Nancy urged, her voice a steady anchor amidst the storm of emotions that threatened to overwhelm you.

You took a deep breath, grounding yourself in the unyielding presence of your friends. With each word, the memories clawed their way to the surface like long-buried secrets clawing through the soil.

“I remember that night. The sound of glass shattering, the way the car felt like it was spinning, the feel of my leg snapping like a twig,” you murmured, voice faltering as the memory cascaded through you. Each fragment felt sharp, cutting into the present with ruthless clarity.

“The smell of burning rubber, the sinking realization that my parents were…” You choked on the words, fighting back the surge of

that had pierced the confines of your memory for so long. “...were gone.”

The room fell quiet, the weight of your confession hanging in the air like a heavy fog.

" Oh god, he's going to really kill me.." The words fell from your lips in a whispered tremor, the truth unfurling like an ancient script long buried in your mind. Panic washed over you, a tidal wave crashing against the fortress of your resolve. Steve’s gaze sharpened, slicing through the tension, his determination coiling tighter around you.

“Y/N, focus,” he commanded, voice steady and unyielding. “We’re going to figure this out. You’re not alone in this.”

You heard his chuckle, " Guys... he's in my head.." The laughter rippled through the room, but it felt empty, reverberating off the walls as if all humor had been sucked from the air. A chill crept up your spine, reminding you of the darkness lurking just beyond the door.

Your memories are powerful,” Eddie said softly, his voice breaking the suffocating silence that held you captive. “But they don't have to dictate what happens next. You can control this.”

“He's talking..." you tell them. “Who’s talking?” Steve’s voice rose, tension tightening the air between you.

“Vecna,” you murmured, both terrified and mesmerized by the sensation that enveloped you. “He’s whispering. He wants to take me.

“Take you? Where?” Steve shot back, urgency lacing his words. Panic thrummed in the air, stretching thin as you wrestled with the grip of their concern.

“To… to that dark place. I can feel him pulling me.”

Panic surged through the room, each heartbeat reverberating against the walls like the thrum of impending dread.

"Listen to me," Steve's voice cut through the chaos, grounding you, though his urgency matched the frantic rhythm of your pulse.

“Y/N, listen to me.” Steve stepped closer, the intensity in his eyes igniting a flicker of determination within you. “You need to fight back. He thrives on fear. Remember that.”

Shadows twisted in the corners of your vision, and the oppressive darkness loomed larger, pulsating like a heartbeat against the chill in the air. You felt Steve's gaze bore into you, a tie to the reality that anchored you amid the encroaching madness. Panic rose in your chest, but Steve’s presence felt like a shield, holding back the waves of shadow that threatened to overwhelm you.

“Y/N, listen,” he urged, his voice low and steady. “We’re going to come up with a plan.

but you need to stay with us. We can’t afford to lose you to him.”

“I—I’m trying,” you gasped, the weight of the memories threatening to pull you under. Each recollection felt like a hand gripping your throat.

" What if we sleep here, in the same room watching over Y/N and taking turns?" Dustin suggests.

"Sleep here?” Max frowned, crossing her arms. “You think that’ll keep Vecna away?”

“We have to do something,” Dustin insisted. “If he gets into her head while we’re not around… we can’t let that happen.”

The room fell silent again, every face reflecting the urgency of the situation. You could practically feel the undercurrent of dread winding through the air, tightening like a noose around your throat.

“That might be the best idea we have right now.” Steve nodded, his eyes flicking between you and the group, weighing the impact of his next words.

“Okay, let’s do it. All of us stay here tonight.” He turned to you, urgency lacing his tone. “We will make sure nothing gets to you.”

Your heart sank at the gravity of the promise resonating in his voice. Doubt nibbled at your resolve. This wasn’t just another movie night; it felt like walking a tightrope over an abyss.

he clock above the mantel ticked ominously, each second a reminder that time was slipping away. Tomorrow marked the day when shadows took everything from you, and it felt like Vecna anticipated your grief like a predator lying in wait.

“Alright"

The kitchen felt like a different world. Dim light filtered through the curtains, casting long shadows across the tile floor. You scuffed your sneakers against the linoleum, the sound punctuating the heavy silence that settled around you.

“Y/N,” Steve called softly, his voice breaking the stillness like a whisper in an empty room.

You turned to face him, the weight of everything pooling at the corners of your eyes. The anger and confusion still roiled inside, battling with the empowerment of his unwavering presence.

“Steve,” you started, but the words caught in your throat, tangled with fear. The emotions churned, a storm brewing just beneath the surface.

“Hey.” He stepped closer, concern pooling in his gaze. “ I know tonight is going to be tough,” he said, his voice low and steady. “But you’re not alone. We have your back, okay? All of us. The memories, the darkness—they don’t have to win.”

You opened your mouth, but the lump in your throat hardened. The floodgates threatened to burst, memories crowding your mind’s eye, invading the sanctuary of your heart.

“I’m scared,” you breathed, the admission breaking against the tension in the air like a fragile glass.

Steve stepped closer, the warmth of his presence anchoring you. “I get that. It’s okay to be scared. Hell, I’m terrified too, but you have to trust us. Together, we can keep Vecna away from you.”

The weight of his words wrapped around you, squeezing tight as the truth settled in your chest. You searched his eyes, looking for the assurance you so desperately craved. The flickering kitchen light cast shadows that danced ominously on the walls, echoing the turmoil within. You felt the warmth of his presence, yet beneath it swirled a tempest of insecurity and fear, pulling at the seams of your resolve.

The moon bathed the room in a pale glow, illuminating the familiar chaos of Steve’s living room—crumpled popcorn bags, scattered board games, and remnants of holiday decorations. A circle of sleeping bags hugged the edges, each one a fortress of comfort and safety crafted by your friends. Yet the shadows beyond the window pressed against the glass, encroaching like a tide that threatened to pull you under.

“Hey.” Steve’s voice broke the quiet, gentle but firm. He stood just inside the doorway, framed by the soft glow of the kitchen light behind him.

“You okay?” He ventured closer, his brows knitted with concern. The shadows danced in the corners of the room, reflections of your unspoken fears.

“I… glanced at the moon, its cold light filtering through the window like a silver blade. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “What if he comes for me tonight? What if I can’t fight him ?” The tremor in your voice resonated through the stillness, a raw thread of fear tugging at the edges of your composure.

Steve stepped closer, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a familiar blanket. “You’re not alone in this,” he said, drawing nearer until he occupied the space beside you on the couch. The shadows stretched, swallowing the edges of the room, but your heart steadied a fraction, anchored by his proximity.

“I just…” You stopped, your voice faltering as the weight of your thoughts crashed down like a tidal wave. “I don’t want to lose anyone else. I can’t go through that again.”

Steve’s gaze softened, mirroring the swell of sympathy in your chest. “You won’t. I promise we’re going to make it through this. We’ll find a way to defeat him.”

His confidence wrapped around you, a fragile shield against the darkness clawing at your thoughts. The swell of emotions cracked the surface, threatening to spill over. You turned to face him, searching his eyes for the reassurance you so desperately craved.

“Promise?” The word came out as a whisper, laced with vulnerability.

“Promise.” He met your gaze with unwavering intensity, the warmth in his eyes igniting something within you—a flicker of hope pushing against the shadows that threatened to suffocate you.

Just then, a resonating chime echoed through the tranquil hum of the night, slicing through the fragile air like glass shattering. It lingered in the corners of the room, twisting the familiar into something malevolent and dark, a music box tune gone awry. The sound slithered through the air, curling around your senses like smoke as dread tightened its grip on your throat.

“Did you hear that?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as the chill of apprehension crept in.

No" Steve says.“Are you sure?” You leaned closer, straining to listen. The silence that followed felt like a heavy blanket, pressing down, making the air thick and suffocating.

“ Take a deep breathe" Steve's voice broke through the thickening silence, firm yet soothing. Your heart raced, panic clawing at your throat, but you focused on his words, drawing in a shaky breath.

“Breathe with me,” he instructed, his tone steady.

As he inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with air, the rhythm grounding in the tension-laden room. You mimicked him, the air rushing in and out, pushing away the chilling echoes that threatened to consume you.

As Steve holds you, he falls asleep and silence fills the room. The clock is after midnight. The silence wrapped around you like a shroud, thick with unspoken fears and lingering echoes, but it felt different now. The shadows still danced ominously in the corners, but they seemed more distant, as if tethered by the warmth radiatingfrom where Steve sat beside you. The slow rise and fall of his breathing became a steady anchor against the chaos swirling in your heart and mind.

You dared to close your eyes, but the weight of the shadows loomed just beneath your eyelids whispering promises of despair. The darkness pulsed, curling around you like a predator poised to strike.

Then, it was like a nightmare coming alive. You weren't in Steve house but on the gravel seeing flashing light of the car turned over on the road. There is pleading for help coming from a woman who's crawling. Your heart speeds up hearing the familiar voice of your mother.The gravel crunched beneath your feet as you stepped into the nightmarish scene, the acrid scent of smoke clawing at your throat. The world around you warped with familiarity, every detail sharp and vivid—the twisted metal, the shattered glass intensifying the colors surrounding you. Voices echoed, twisted cries slicing through the fog of memory, warping time and space. The world cast in shades of gray suddenly flickered, revealing a gory tapestry of your past.

“Help! Someone, please!”

A familiar cry twisted through the air, piercing through the haze of confusion. Your heart dropped into your stomach as recognition cut through the nightmare. The sight before you felt almost too surreal, each detail as sharp and unforgiving as the glass shards scattered across the gravel. The memory flooded back—every agonizing second replaying in vivid clarity. You stood frozen, your feet anchored to the ground, awash in the horror of it all.

“Mom?”

As you approached, the flickering lights from the crumpled car illuminated her face—a ghost of your childhood, a visage you had memories etched into the deepest corners of your mind. But this was different; the memory twisted and distorted, trapped in the grip of Vecna's dark influence.

“Mom!” Panic surged through you as you reached the broken silhouette struggling against the wreckage.

"Help me" she pleads seeign you.You faltered, a surge of terror pulsing through you. “Mom, I’m here!” Each word felt shrill, shattering the quiet night as your heart raced.

But the figure only stared, eyes wide with desperation, the horror of recognition etching itself deeper into your bones. The scene warped around you, shadows weaving through the air like ominous wisps, thickening as they curled against the world you once knew.

You took another hesitant step forward. “Mom!” The word slipped from your lips like a prayer, a plea that echoed through the night. With each step, the ground shifted beneath you, the gravel crunching like brittle bones underfoot, amplifying the chaos around you.

“Help me!” Her voice pierced the darkness, reverberating in your chest like a drumroll of dread. The shadows thickened, swirling around the crumpled wreckage, and you felt the very air constricting, heavy with sorrow and anguish.

“Mom!” You stumbled forward, desperation clawing at your throat, each step echoing the panic crescendoing in your heart. The shadows wrapped tighter around you like coils of smoke, whispering doubts that gnawed at your sanity.

The twisted wreck of the car creaked in protest, each sound a reminder of the horror that echoed within the confines of memory. You reached out, fingertips brushing against the cool, jagged metal of the vehicle, trying to ground yourself as reality warped around you.

Dustin rubbed his eyes, squinting against the dim light of the room. He shuffled toward the kitchen, but noticed you standing still, your eyes wide and unblinking.

“Y/N?” he called softly, but you didn’t answer him, the echoes of your mother’s cries drowning out the present. The shadowy figures danced at the edge of your vision, each whisper tightening their grip around your heart.

“Y/N?” Dustin’s voice trembled, concern lacing through every syllable. He stepped closer, his feet shuffling across the floor as he tried to pierce through the haze enveloping you.

You stood frozen, heart racing as the familiar figure of your mother began to fade in and out, both a balm and a blade to your heart.

“Y/N?” Dustin's voice grew urgent, but the world around you twisted and distorted, each pulse of your fear echoing. Eddie’s footsteps thundered across the floor as he darted into the living room, urgency radiating from him like heat. “Y/N! What’s wrong?” His voice broke through the haze, a lifeline thrown amidst the rising tide ofchaos engulfing your senses. The shadows continued to writhe, clawing at the edges of your mind while your mother's cries echoed in your head, a chilling symphony of despair that drowned out.

" Her eyes! Vecna is trying to get her!" Max says in panic. Startled, Steve’s eyes shot open, his breath catching as he took in the scene unfolding before him.

“Y/N!” He surged to his feet, the urgency in his voice cutting through the chilling fog that wrapped around you.

The figure transformed, twisting grotesquely, every memory tethered to your mother merging into something dark and sinister. The face morphed, features sliding like liquid shadows. What once wore the visage of your childhood hero now stretched into an eerily.

" Vecna?" you called his name out. The name tasted bitter on your tongue, a summons both desperate and defiant.

“Yes, Y/N. Welcome ,” the figure crooned, its voice rippling with mock affection. The semblance of your mother twisted, her features bending and warping into something grotesquely familiar. “Help me,” it whispered, a twisted echo that sent chills racing down your spine.

“No!” Panic surged through you, raw and unrelenting. You felt the shadows wrapping tighter around your limbs, " your not my mother! She died!" The figure's laughter reverberated through the air, a cruel mockery that echoed in the darkness. "Did she?" The word dripped with malice, a twisted taunt that slithered past the barricades of your mind. " What do you want from me?!" “Feed on your despair,” Vecna hissed, the words curling around you like poisonous vines. “Let your grief awaken the darkness within.” The shadows shifted, swirling around you, blurring the lines between memory and nightmare.

“Get away from me!” You screamed, the raw force of your terror splintering the darkness, pushing back against the echoes of your mother’s voice. “You’re not real!”

His hand wrapped around your throat pulling you up. A gasp escaped your lips as Vecna’s grip tightened, the pressure squeezing the breath from your chest. The room spun, reality warping around you like a malignant shadow. His face loomed closer, the once-familiar features twisting into a grotes que mask of malice and pain. Every heartbeat felt like a drum echoing the horror circling around you. The chilling emptiness behind his gaze reflected all your fears, the darkness pooling like poison in your veins.

You carry the weight of your pain with you, and I shall feast on it," Vecna whispered, the malignancy lacing his words echoing in your ears. It was an intimate threat, one that drew on the depths of your worst moments and twisted them into a weapon against your very soul. The shadows danced around you, a suffocating cocoon tightening around your chest, making each breath feel like a futile struggle.

“Y/N! Stay with us! Fight him!” Steve’s voice pierced through the chaos, a beacon of clarity amidst the suffocating darkness.

Eddie and Dustin rummaged through the cluttered mess—old vinyl records, crumpled posters, and forgotten cassette tapes littering the floor like remnants of battles fought in better times.

“Where is it?” Dustin's voice grew frantic as he flipped through the mess, desperation creeping into his tone. “It has to be here! The one album that could break his hold!”

“Keep looking!” Eddie shouted, his fingers dancing across the clutter as he scrambled to find something—anything—that could tether you back.

" Harrington has bad taste in music" Eddie mumbles.

" Did you find it?" Robin asks joining them on the floor. “Not yet!” Dustin’s voice carried urgency, anxiety weaving through his words like a fraying thread. “It has to be here. We’re running out of time!”

" you're taking too much time, bozos" Eric says as she pushes Dustin away and looks herself. “Get back!” Dustin protested, but Eric shrugged off his frustration, her focus fixed on the task at hand.

“I’ll find it! Just move!” The urgency in her voice sent a jolt through the cluttered room. As she dove headfirst into the heap, tossing aside albums and posters with wild abandon, her determination electrified the air.

“Come on, come on!” Dustin grunted, shoving a stack of records aside, his fingers skimming over the familiar labels.

“Wait!” Eddie’s eyes widened, realization hitting him like a lightning bolt. “I think I left one in the van!” The words tumbled from his lips, an eruption of hope breaking through the haze of despair.

"Go! We need it now!” Dustin barked, urgency threading through his tone.

“Right—stay here! I’ll be back!” Eddie bolted out the front door before anyone could protest, the sound of his footsteps fading down the walkway.

Inside, Vecna talked about how pathetic your life is and mocking how Steve was a waste of time. “It’s amusing, really,” Vecna’s voice coiled through your mind, laced with a sinister glee that sent a shiver down your spine. “Here you are, surrounded by friends, yet so utterly alone. They cannot save you from the darkness that cradles your heart.”

“Shut up!” You felt the bile rising as you summoned every ounce of willpower, squaring your shoulders against the suffocating grip of dread. “You're not real—you’re nothing but a twisted figment of my past!”

“Ah, but your past is a mirror I wield,” Vecna hissed, his voice dripping with mockery as he leaned closer, his malevolent gaze boring into yours. “Every pain you’ve buried with mockery as he leaned closer, his malevolent gaze boring into yours. “Every pain you’ve buried is the key to your downfall. Feed me your memories, and I’ll show you how insignificant you truly are.”

Steve's voice cut through the oppressive darkness, a luminous thread woven through shadows thick with despair. "Y/N!" he shouted, desperation lacing each syllable, piercing the veil of your panic. The contrast was stark—his voice a beacon, a lifeline anchored in the storm of dread that threatened to pull you under.

“Y/N! I love you!" The words erupted from his mouth with an urgency that stemmed from fear, shooting straight to the core of your despair. "I love you! I always have! I was too stupid to see it before, but I know now! You're not alone in this, I swear!"

The laughter echoed in your mind, a cruel symphony that warped Steve’s desperate confession into mockery. The shadows thickened around you, drowning out the light of his proclamation, shaping it into something dark and cruel.

“Hear that?” Vecna sneered, his breath cold against your ear. “Even his love won’t save you. It only deepens your despair. All that remains is eventual loss—his love, your hope, and your very life.”

You could feel the darkness tightening its grip, the suffocating shadows wrapping around you like a vice. Each word Vecna uttered echoed through your mind, puncturing the feeble shield of hope that had begun to light the edges of your despair. The shadows skittered closer, chilling tendrils coaxing doubt into your heart like poison spreading through your veins.

" Where is that album, Munson???! " Max shouts. Eddies comes in putting the cassette and putting headphones over your head while he steps back nibbling on his nails. The moment the headphones nestled around your ears, the world around you shifted. The pulsating shadows flickered for a brief second, the whisper of music lacing through your mind like sunlight breaking through clouds. Eddie's fingers trembled as he described the sound, coaxing a defiance from the depths of your being. “Just listen, Y/N! Breathe with it. Let the music wash over you!”

As the melody swept through the headphones, it felt like a lifeline thrown into turbulent waters, each note reaching deep into the recesses of your heart. The music surged through you like the first breath of fresh air after a long dive underwater, illuminating the shadows that loomed in the corners of your mind.

"Fight back!” Eddie shouts and starts to sing your favorite song joined by Dustin as he knows he words as everyone shouts the lyrics in hope to save you. The familiar chords thrummed through the headphones, a pulse that resonated in your core, cutting through the darkness strangling you. The voices of your friends rose, the lyrics woven with urgency and raw emotion. They flooded the space, the harmonies intertwining like threads of light piercing through the heavy gloom. Each note carried the weight of their support, reverberating against the warping shadows that threatened to consume you whole.

“Feel it, Y/N!” Dustin shouted, his voice a fierce." Feel it, Y/N!” Dustin shouted, determination etching every syllable with unwavering strength. “You’re not alone! We’re right here!”

The portal opens as you see your friends singing their hearts out. Vecna growls as he sees it and turns to you, just as you kick him hard as his grip loosens. You fall to the ground in fear as he stands up. The shadows surged and stretched, flickering with an unholy light as you scrambled backward, heart racing. Your hands dug into the gravel, frantic against the rough surface as you pushed yourself away from Vecna, the weight of dread still pressing down like a heavy stone. Each frantic beat of your heart echoed through the night, matching the relentless tempo of the music flooding your ears.

You throw whatever you could at him, sliding in between his legs making your escape.

"Please Y/N" your friends beg. Shadows lunged, tendrils reaching out like claws grasping for your ankles, but the pulsating rhythm of the music propelled you forward.

“Keep running!” Steve’s voice broke through.

Each step felt harder, the shadows curling around your legs like creeping vines, but the power of your friends’ voices surged around you, wrapping you in warmth and determination.

as you charged forward, a wave of desperation fueling your every movement. Panic clawed at your insides, but the melody resonated through you, sparking the fire of resistance in your chest.

“Y/N, keep going!” Dustin shouted.

From somewhere within the maelstrom, his voice a beacon in the dark. The rhythm of the music pulsed around you, each note forging an invisible path through the encroaching shadows.

You pushed harder, your legs pumping as the darkness.

" Come back to me" Steve pleads. wove tighter around the edges of your vision, an oppressive fog that threatened to snuff out your spirit. The music surged within you, the familiar melody pushing back against the encroaching shadows as you fought for clarity, for freedom.

Your body slowly goes down as your back to your friends, arm engulf you tight. An overwhelming flood of warmth wrapped around you, a cocoon of safety from the chaos that roiled just beyond the edges of consciousness. Your friends' voices resonated in the air, their harmonies intertwining to drown out the whispers of darkness that clung stubbornly to your thoughts. The weight of Vecna’s presence loomed, but the warmth of your friends reached out, pulling you back toward the light.

" Did I really hear Harrington confess his love too?" Eddie asks all of sudden. Laughter erupted, shattering the oppressive weight of fear for a moment, and you found strength within the absurdity of it all.

Was it true?" you asked Steve looking up at him. Steve’s eyes widened, a mixture of surprise and vulnerability etched across his face. The shadows that had engulfed you flickered, their grip momentarily loosened by the absurdity of your questions amidst the chaos.

“Yes,” he breathed, voice thick with emotion. “It’s true. I love you, Y/N. I always have.”

You blinked, disbelief blending with a torrent of emotions. The shadows around you pulsed, the darkness wavering for a brief moment as if caught in the storm of your shared confessions.

" So it took me to get captured for you to tell me how you feel. Alright understood" The words hung in the air, laced with a mixture of irony and incredulity, but as your eyes locked with Steve's, everything felt charged with urgency.

" Well! Are you going to kiss her?" Robin asked,her voice breaking through the tension like a call to arms. Laughter rippled through the room, a buoy of levity amid the darkness that pressed in on all sides.

“Shut up, Robin!” Steve snapped, his cheeks flushing, eyes wide with embarrassment but glinting with amusement.

“Seriously? You’re on the verge of losing her to Vecna, and *that’s* what you focus on?” Eddie interjected, laughter lighting his features, injecting energy into the somber atmosphere. The absurdity hung between you like a thread, pulling the heaviness of the moment upward.

" Do I smell bad that your not going to kiss me?" you asked. A wry smile tugged at your lips, defiance mingling with the lingering dread swirling in the shadows. Steve blinked, his gaze locking onto yours as a flush of embarrassment raced across his cheeks.

"What?” he stammered, his cheeks flushing deeper, the vulnerability in his eyes opening a small chasm of warmth against the encroaching darkness.

“Do you really think I’m just going to let Vecna win?” you shot back "I really want that kiss, I needed to win". you winked at him.Steve’s eyes widened as the tension shifted, color flooding his cheeks. The corners of his mouth twitched like they might form a smile, fighting against the shadows that still loomed.

“Are you serious right now?” he asked, half-playful, half-breathless. But the light in your eyes sparked something within him—a determination melded with hope that pushed back against the tide of darkness.

“I’ve never been more serious in my life,” you insisted, a flicker f defiance igniting in your chest. The shadows continued to dance at the edges of your vision, but the power of laughter filled the room, wrapping around you like a protective shield.

" If you won't kiss her, then I will " Eddie chimed in. The laughter erupted, breaking the oppressive weight of fear that filled the air.

“Eddie, you’re not helping!” Steve shot him an incredulous look, but beneath it lay deep embarrassment mingled with something softer—understanding, perhaps.

" So Harrington, your going to leave me hanging or do I have to do it myself?" you asked. The atmosphere in the room shifted, thickening with tension as laughter blended into something electric. Steve's eyes widened, disbelief painting his features, grappling with the absurdity of the situation even amidst the swirling chaos that threatened to engulf you.

“Wait, are you serious?” Steve stammered, stepping closer, his gaze locked onto yours with a mixture of urgency and disbelief.

" You talk too much, Steve" Laughter rippled through the room, an unexpected balm against the weight of fear. Steve’s eyes brightened despite the chaos, and that flicker of hope ignited something deep within you.

“Alright, alright.” He raised his hands in amock surrender, but determination sparked in his eyes. “Just hold on for a sec, okay? I’m not letting you go. Not now, not ever.” He stepped closer, each heartbeat resonating with the gravity of his words. The shadows clung to the edges of your vision, but they felt less suffocating in this moment, swallowed by the brightness in his gaze.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice steady yet thick with uncertainty, “if we make it out of this…” His determination wavered, but the sincerity in his eyes shone through, illuminating the shadows that threatened to suffocate you. " I want you to know I’ve admired you for so long. You’re… you’re everything incredible.”

Eddie grew tired of this from Steve as he pushed him into you and Steve lips were inches from yours.The world around you seemed to suspend, time stretching taut as the distance closed between you. Steve’s eyes flickered with uncertainty, a silent question hanging in the air, heavy with hope and trepidation.

The world around you seemed to suspend, time stretching taut as the distance closed between you.

With his lips merely inches from yours, everything faded into insignificance—the shadows, the darkness of Vecna’s taunts, even the pulsating fear that had gripped your heart just moments before. The world shrank to a single point where nothing mattered but the whispered promise contained in that fleeting moment.

“Y/N,” Steve breathed softly, his voice barely above the thrum of the music, each syllable laced with vulnerability and an urgency that felt electric. The shadows receded slightly, as if honoring the connection between you.

You stepped closer, feeling the warmth radiating from him, a lifeline amidst the chaos swirling around you.

"Oh get on with it, already " Erica threw her hands up in the air. As the laughter bubbled through the room like a lifeline, an unexpected surge of courage washed over you. You locked eyes with Steve, a fierce determination igniting within you.

As you leaned toward him, your heart raced, a pulse of adrenaline mixing with the tender resolve that anchored you. Steve’s arms immediately encircled you, grounding you in the moment, even as the chaos threatened to consume it.

"finally,” you breathed into the space between you, the weight of laughter and shadows falling away.

His lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, but then the urgency of the moment ignited a fire between you. The kiss deepened, hearts racing in tandem as the world around you faded into a distant murmur.

" Finally he had some balls to do it" Erica says. The kiss consumed you, an electric jolt of warmth igniting the shadows that surrounded you. Each heartbeat echoed like a drum in your chest, threading through the chaos in a whirlwind of emotion.

As the kiss deepened, time warped and twisted, dissolving the barriers of the moment.

This was far from over. Vecna will be back but he can wait, as this moment was everything between the two of you.

Vecna had another thing coming.

#steve harrington #Steve Harrington x you #Steve Harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x y/n #Stranger thing x reader #jewls writes

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ledgerserious8 · 11 months ago

Text

Comedy For You | Arthur Fleck & Reader

Warning : Don't copy my writing Don't steal my writing. All rights are reserved for my writing

Genre : Fluff And Sweet Interview

Summary : Arthur Getting Interviewed In Murray's Show But Not From Murray Himself..

Word count : 7.3k

Because Of Murray's Sickness The director decided to put a new beautiful journalist to make the episode of tonight

And That beautiful journalist was You...you was a smart person who can read the breaking news making reports visiting a lot of places and you was having good voice

Arthur was the guest of tonight of Murray's he was named by The Joker and he was wearing red suit with green tie and joker paint on his face

Tonight it's was his new door to be famous comedy clown so he need to be careful with his jokes to make everyone in Gotham loved him

So when he get out to the stage The crowds was clapping happily as Arthur sit on the chair and you was sitting on Murray's chair

Taking his place but not too long of time

Arthur don't need anything more then to be perfect He wanted to be perfect for this night it's now or never for him

So joker tonight it's not Murray who opened this episode because of his sickness We pray for him to get healthy soon But tonight I will be the presenter of the program and I hope we will have fun and laugh with you - you explained politely as the crowds clapped for your words

Arthur's Face Blushed when he saw your beautiful face your hair was very beautiful too making him melting

You was wearing very beautiful red dress with small white dots on it and white gloves covered your hands because it's was winter night for the show

He smiled as was waiting for Your questions to begin the jokes so he could please the crowds and make them laugh

But Arthur was nervous as the crowds was waiting to hear his jokes He wanted this night to be perfect as possible

So i heard that you're comedy clown who made shows on the stage - you started talking gently

It's mean it's not your first time being under the camera sight right? - you added as looking at him waiting for his response

Arthur was surprised with your calm tone your question was so calm, he was expecting some question about how he became a clown

Arthur took a deep breath, and he answered softly - "Yes i am a popular clown on stage, and this is the first time I'm appearing in front of the camera

It's not my first time but it's my first time in this big stage and show like Murray's show I want to entertain the people by my Jokes, by my performance." - he added

Good to hear that joker But it will be more good if you made us hearing your jokes - you explained politely making him smiled

Your beautiful smile with your white teeth..was making his heart beating so fast

Arthur couldn't hold his smile as you smiled and showed your beautiful, white teeth

"Yes, of course I will make you laugh - he thought into his mind

And I will try to provide the best jokes in front of the cameras." he explained calmly.

"I would love to do that, let me begin" - he continued with a slight blush

Arthur tried to breath normally, He was looking at the audience as he was ready to begin his jokes. His mind was trying to remember his jokes carefully, he needed to impress you, and the crowd

Arthur Opened His Notebook of jokes and started searching for good jokes. As you was waiting for him silently

The crowd was staring at him expectantly.

Arthur's mind was searching for jokes in his notebook he was a little nervous but he was focused on making good jokes

But He finally found a Joke

"Why do criminals love horror movies? - he asked you with the crowds.

Why?" - one of the crowds screaming from distance but you nodded silently to him to continue

A little bit smile was on Arthur's face as he was answering you and the crowds

"because the villain always wins" - he concluded making The Crowd started laughing happily and he was smiling in satisfaction.

The audiences laughed and clapped for his joke and Arthur was relieved and smiled at the audiences

You start laughing gently and softly Arthur noticed your laugh, it was beautiful and lovely.

His mind was searching again for another joke to make you and the crowds happy this night

But your words cut his thoughts

How about you made a joke about Murray I mean all the guests getting joked by him but nobody joke about him - you explained cutely in jokingly way making everyone laughing

Arthur laughed a little bit, as the crowds started shouting "yes" and clapping with laugh

"Yes i can do that" he replied to you made you smiled at him and he thought for a moment and thought of joke

The crowd was silent waiting for Arthur's joke about Murray they thought your idea was so smart

"How are Murray and his show similar? - he asked you calmly making your expression get into curious

They're both jokes" he concluded and that's The crowds started Laughing as Arthur was watching you laughed cutely at his joke

But you know why he's sick tonight and made me in his place? - you asked him calmly you was person can make jokes too

The crowd and Arthur was waiting for the punchline, he's wondering what you would say to him and he smiled a little bit but his body language turned to be nervous, he was thinking of what to reply to you

"Why?" - he asked you you with soft tone of voice

The audiences were waiting for you To give the punchline to Arthur too

It's because he can't stop laughing at himself - you give the punchline meaning Murray himself is joke as Arthur punchline

The crowd was laughing of this smart punch line and Arthur laughed softly as your punch line was so genius

He smiled cutely as he was nodding his head slightly as looking at you

"Smart one" - He added calmly

"I see you so creative when it comes to making jokes" - Arthur said softly with a little bit blush.

It's was true Because He wasn't expecting you to joke and that what made the joke so amazing for him

'Yeah thanks but actually Gotham should be lucky to find people who's joking" - you explained politely but seriously

You know this city is depressed and that's why Murray's show is here now - you added politely

Arthur nodded his head in agreement with you, as he was saying softly, "i agree." His face was showing signs of seriousness as he was trying to give the audiences a reality

"Indeed, Gotham is a depressed city and it needs more fun and light." - he continued then looked at the crowds

"I hope my jokes could help the city to get rid of this depression." - he added calmly.

The crowd was surprised by your answer as your answer was so wise and correct but Arthur liked a lot being interviewed by you

You was smart and beautiful face with beautiful body and perfect weight and tall

Arthur's heart was beating fast with love, he noticed your cute expression and that made him feel nervous because of you

"I know an other joke about the weather who want listen" - he asked you and the crowds together

"Oh me me me' - you replied with cute voice jokingly with him

Arthur was so surprised by your cute tone, it was so innocent and child And he started laughing softly as the crowds started shouting "Me too me too".

Arthur was smiling with happiness as he was laughing his mind was telling him that he have found himself in love with you

The crowds was looking at you with a cute impressed smiling face and he noticed it with delight

"Okay, here's the joke" - he replied excitedly and Arthur took a deep breath and began telling the joke

"What do you call a raincoat with a hole in it?" - he asked you as he waited for your answer

You didn't speak but you put curious expressions making him biting his bottom lip lightly trying to not feel high on his cheeks

Arthur couldn't avoid looking at your face as he was about to finish the joke as The crowds and her were looking expectantly your smiling face make him nervous and feel excited in one time

"A raincoat with one less hole then before" - he concluded and make The crowd started laughing again the crowds was surprised by the joke that he gave

And you was laughing too as hearing the crowds clapping for him happily and he was smiling softly by seeing the joy in the crowds

But he also saw your face with that beautiful laugh sound that made him more attracted to you as feeling nervous

Well thanks for this beautiful funny jokes You know everyone deserve to laugh but everyone deserve to get know too - you explained politely as put serious expression

And before this episode going to ended I'm going ask you a few questions that people want to know about you But i will ignore the questions about your name or age because you told me you don't want this - you finished as looking at him waiting for his response

The crowd was shouting "yes" after your announcement And Arthur is ready to answer any kind of question, he was still smiling and feeling proud.

"Alright, go ahead and ask me some question that I can answer and everyone will be thankful to you." - he replied nervously as you would ask him something about himself.

He took a deep breath trying to calm himself down as he knew it should probably be something that he would hate to tell

"Okay so what are your questions?" - he asked you softly

I won't ask you something you don't want okay? - you whispered as looking at him Reading his nervously

Arthur's face showed relief as he was nodding his head in agreement with you in a very softly way as you said you wouldn't ask him something he didn't want he gave a smile to you,

he was really nervous by you staring at him by your shiny eyes and that your soft smile was making him feel more and more attracted to you

As i said before Gotham is depressed city it's like the idea of being comedy is so rarely - you started softly

'So the first question saying how you was fighting this as you're comedy clown How you was trying to be famous." - you asked him calmly as looking at him

Arthur laughed when you said that humor was a rare thing in the depressed and dark city of Gotham he liked how you started your question

But Arthur stopped laughing for a moment to think about your question properly and give you good answer

"Well, as a comedy clown, I've always tried to be famous in this city and bring joy and laugh to the people - he explained calmly as his eyes was shining

"It was a very tough battle, but I fought hard to become popular as a comedy clown in the city." - he finished as smiling at you

Of course there's a lot of comedy clowns need to find a way to be like you Sitting here and make shows in Gotham just like you - you explained politely making him nodded to your question

So what do you have to say to help them as advice - you added calmly as wanted to know how his mind was thinking

The crowd was intrigued by your intelligent question Arthur loved how smart you is, as you knows that there are many people trying to be famous like him but he took a couple of seconds to think about your advice question.

"The advice to help their career in comedy is to be themselves" - he responded.

"And to also be creative and think of different creative ways of making jokes, and that will for sure create a new and exciting career for them." - he concluded as smiling at you but he had a strong feeling that you was going to ask him a hard question

Okay the last question Focus on it okay? But before i asked you - you explained seriously making him focus on you

'Are you a old fan of Murray's show like you watched all the episodes" - you added calmly

The crowds was silent, they were all watching with their eyes glued to him waiting for him to answer your question as Arthur's mind was thinking about the question you just asked him before the final question

"Yes actually, I've been watching Murray's late-night show since it first aired." - he explained calmly

Then his mind started thinking about your final question which seemed like a hard one for him

Well the last question said Who better in Presentation of the program Me or Murray Answer honestly - you asked him calmly as chuckled softly

The crowd was shouting "you!" as you asking him who is better at presenting the program between Murray and you

Arthur was so stunned by your beauty and also your question as he was smiling softly, your eyes alone could melt anyone as the crowd to shout your name

"You, you are better in presentation! You're more beautiful" - he answered in low tone

"You..You're more fun... and comedy than him." - he added softly with a little blush on his face.

Well now because the episode ended and I'm sure Murray now lying on his bed Look like a brown bear from Disney films - you joked making the crowds laughed

And we're enjoying a lot of the joker perfect jokes I believe you all should go to your houses now because the show is ending - you added jokingly to the crowds

The crowd is laughing really hard because of you as you was giving your punchline to their show's ending

Arthur laughed too as The crowd is waving to the screens and him was laughing softly with the crowd.

Arthur had never seen a better crowd before than this one. The crowd started waving their hands and saying good bye. He started waving back to them

"See you next time" - he said with a cute smile.

Arthur's mind thought that he just finished today's show perfectly with a lot of jokes

The lights of the studio shut down and the only thing that was lighting up the room was the camera flash lights making the both of you alone

Arthur was smiling softly and looking at you as you was also smiling softly he didn't know why he was feeling more nervous now than when the audience was there

Well actually thank you for accepting being the guest of this episode I hope you enjoyed a lot and I'm sorry if my jokes getting more then limit - you explained as looking at his face fixed with the light

I don't want you to take this personally and seriously because it's all for fun I'm working as a temporary journalist for this show now, and I wish Murray a recovery, and he know that my jokes about him is a joke and not a personal criticism - you finished making the point clear

Something in your heart was telling you that joker was having sensitive heart that anyone can break it

Arthur was impressed with your intelligence, your wisdom and your knowledge as a journalist he loved the way you was describing yourself and was making him see you in a new way.

Arthur was glad that you was being kind to Murray and that he was understanding that your jokes aren't personal criticism The way you was telling him to not take your jokes personally and as jokes was also making Arthur being impressed by your honesty

"It's okay, I have really enjoyed our time together" - Arthur said softly to you

Good to hear that from you have a good night now and by the way I'm y/n - you confessed politely making him smiled

"Arthur Fleck a pleasure to know you y/n" - he replied softly as his head was tilting a little bit towards your face as you was revealing your name to him his face had a soft, gentle smile that indicated his interest and pleasure in getting to know you

He started leading towards your chair as he was getting closer to you and he didn't want to make you uncomfortable but his face becomes closer to yours

"Please have a good night" - He whispered in a very soft and friendly tone as he was looking at your shiny eyes

You keep silent as your cheeks started getting redder by his manly voice making him smirking at your reaction but he leading back and standing up

No words left your mouth because Arthur started walking away leaving you alone with his joker suit and make up in the studio with the co-workers

Arthur was thinking about you after he left He know there's something he felt in his heart about you there's one thing that made him get meet you again is to be..

Comedy For You

#celebrities #actors #arthur fleck #arthur fleck imagine #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x you #joker imagine #joker 2019 #joker x reader

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gloriousburden · 2 months ago

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Why are we just supposed to forget that Loki is a Frost Giant? This is A BIG THING!!! This is the big dark secret, the scandal, the controversy, the tragedy, the horror, the origin, the defining moment, the catalyst, the turning point of no return, and now we're just expected to ...not think about it? Or treat it like it's no big deal, as if it's the same thing as saying Loki has a double-jointed thumb, it's just useless information now? Or laugh about it, as if it’s some kind of embarrassing, hilarious accident of birth Loki deserves for existing? Can you imagine how incredible, how cathartic, how satisfying it could have been, if only? If only.

OH MY GOD YES!! Between the play (Supposedly written by Loki though he felt immense shame over being Jotun, as well as the overall discrimination against Frost Giants from Asgardians…) from Ragnarok, the Loki/Sylvie blanket scene (I don’t care if it was flirting. NEITHER OF THEM WOULD GET COLD FROM A SMALL BREEZE. I DON’T EVEN GET COLD FROM A SMALL BREEZE!), and "Because I see a scared little boy shivering in the cold and you kinda feel bad for that ice runt." From Mobius being like the only reference to Loki’s heritage in the series?! Ugh.

“Am I cursed?”

“Laufey’s son?”

“So I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up here until you might have use of me?

“What, because I.. I.. I am the monster parents tell their children about at night?”

“You know, it all makes sense now, why you favored Thor all these years, because no matter how much you claim to love me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!”

“I’m not your brother! I never was!”

“He did tell you my true parentage, did he not?”

(These quotes make me so sad. Poor Loki. He really went through so much.)

Yes, because the same Loki who was in so much distress about his heritage would crack jokes about it and talk openly about it in front of the common people of Asgard, who view Frost Giants as monsters to tell scary stories about to their children, and enemies.

If Loki didn’t find out that he was a Frost Giant… a lot of things would have gone differently not only for him, but as well as other MCU characters. It is essential to his character, and should’ve been talked about more outside of it being used to belittle him, comedy relief, and outside of AUs such as the What If? episode.

It is so unfair. I do also wish it was talked about in TDW, though I know the movie wasn’t necessarily Loki centered.

Haha guys he’s blue and adopted and a runt. It’s so funny and totally not an essential part of his character. It’s not like he’s deeply affected by any of this, or anything. 🤦🏻‍♀️

#thanks for the ask!#anon ask #ask #asks #my answers #loki #jotun loki #frost giant loki #jotunheim mcu #asgard mcu #frost giants mcu #anti loki series #anti thor ragnarok #loki 💭

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rosesradio · 3 months ago

Text

i accidentally deleted the ask that requested this, and i forgot who asked it, but whoever wanted some valgrace cuddles (who doesn’t lol), this is for you !! 💌 It was 2:37 AM when thunder boomed across the sky. Leo awoke blearily, curls in all directions and eyelids heavy. He yawned, rolling over in an attempt to fall asleep once more.

It should have been easy.

It wasn't.

A new idea rolled around Leo's mind, stirring him from any hope of rest. He couldn't—as much as he wanted to—he couldn't bother Jason.

And yet.

Huffing, emerging from his warm sheets and cushiony comforter, Leo padded over to the door to his room. He could feel the motion of the ship under his feet, minute in the way any large vessel moved. He closed the door behind him, as silent and careful as a horror movie protagonist. With Coach Hedge keeping an eye on them, Leo couldn't be sure when he was safe to embark on this little late-night visit. Still, the promise of seeing Jason was too tempting to ignore.

Leo made his way over to Jason's door, finding it, to his surprise, already opened. He slipped inside, shutting the door behind him, finally letting out a breath.

"Leo?" Jason's voice asked, confused with that half-sleepiness that made Leo unable to help but smile.

"Yeah, Superman, 'm here," Leo replied faintly. He shuffled over as Jason wordlessly pulled the blanket up, inviting Leo into bed.

Leo slipped under the covers—into Jason's arms—as easy as breathing.

They weren't quite…together. Yet. Maybe ever. They were in this perpetual stage of…something, which had started two weeks prior when Jason went to Leo's room after a particularly nasty nightmare. After that, some things shifted in their relationship. They were close in this way, cuddling close and speaking softly with each other, only under the cover of darkness.

It wasn’t one of those crappy movies about a secret gay relationship in which Jason would shove him against the lockers when others were around. Leo just assumed that he wanted to keep what little privacy he had on the ship.

Unless…

“Jason?” Leo asked softly, unsure if he was waking the son of Jupiter. At his low, questioning hum, Leo added: “How would you feel if Coach caught us tomorrow?”

“Mm,” Jason managed pulling Leo even more firmly against him. His voice was warm near Leo’s ear. “I’d tell ‘m to kick rocks, probably. Give us five more minutes…”

Leo snickered, letting out a content sigh as he held on to Jason’s arm. “I’d like that,” he murmured. “But…you wouldn’t be embarrassed to be caught with me…?”

Jason made another hum, this one a bit more disapproving. “You kidding? You should be embarrassed to be caught with me, we both know you’re the brains to my trophy husband…”

Leo was sure it was just senseless sleepy ramblings, though his heart skipped a beat at Jason’s words. Trophy husband…that implied that they were, in fact, together. If they were official or not.

In a moment of bravery, Leo brought Jason’s hand up to his lips, pressing a slow and gentle kiss to the back of it.

If I could kiss your lips, he wanted to say, this would be how I would do it.

“Glad you know what our roles are,” Leo said instead.

Jason hummed once more in recognition and, to Leo’s gut-twisting surprise, placed a gentle kiss to the crook of Leo’s neck.

Letting out a content sigh, Leo settled against him. Their legs tangled under the thick comforter. Jason’s torso rested fully against Leo’s, his frame like a large, soft blanket from the dryer. His arm was wrapped around Leo, comforting and protective all at once.

Leo only knew the tip of the iceberg when it came to New Rome, though he knew a lot of the flashy details were all for show. The reality of what he had, of what his life was like, was a lot more bleak.

Leo supposed he protected Jason as well. With his words—his kindness and jokes and quick mechanical thinking. That must have been why Jason held him so protectively. Because he was his.

Leo was never used to being anyone’s before, what with everyone turning him away in disgust and fear after his mother died.

Holding on to Jason’s arm like a prized possession, Leo finally found himself able to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

#valgrace #leo valdez #jason grace #pjo #pjo drabbles #rose’s asks

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tellmeallaboutit · 7 months ago

Text

knock knock (Raphael x F!Player)

Chapter 2, In Which You Meet A Tall Dark Stranger

Chapter 1

SUMMARY: Careful which mods you install for BG3. Did you read the terms and conditions carefully?

TAGS: meta romance, psychological horror, smut, the character is the player, Raphael is after you, you wanted him, you invited him to our world, he accepted your invitation

RATING: explicit

AO3

Chapter 2

The next day, during your lunch break, you made another attempt to persuade Raphael to take his clothes off. The clock struck noon; your private laptop was on the right side of your desk, while your work laptop was on the left, Teams open and your mouse ready to show signs of activity from time to time.

The sun was shining through the wide open window, children playing outside. Idyllic. Nothing sinister could be happening in broad daylight with those happy sounds in the background. The horror movies told you so. Except for Midsommar.

Well, screw Midsommar, then. This isn’t Sweden.

"All right, I'm going to set some ground rules here," you said to the loading screen. "I can be as creepy as I want to be to you, because you're just a bunch of pixels, but you can't do anything creepy to me, because I'm a human being. Got that? Good."

The sound of your voice made you feel braver.

As you heard the familiar sinister 'you-let-the-villain-win-bad-player' music in the background, you covered your eyes with your hands and peered through splayed fingers.

Then he appeared. Just as you had wished. Perfectly naked, with a stereotypical video game six-pack and just the right amount of body hair. The orange lighting made his skin glow, and his flaccid penis, like that of the game's generic male model, vanished from sight as he strode closer.

Your ears pricked up to listen to the scripted monologue you knew by heart, watching (waiting?) for any hiccups or new animations, the YouTube app on your phone playing the identical scene for comparison.

Everything happened exactly as it should, word for word, save for the speaker’s nudity.

All good. You breathed a sigh of relief and spread your fingers wider to admire Raphael a little better.

Same as always. Handsome and charming and completely imaginary, which, now that you thought about it, was the biggest part of his charm.

"Ta-ta... for now," Raphael's signature line echoed through the room.

"Bravo, Raphael," you praised the screen. "You've done nothing creepy. You have earned your title of Archdevil Supreme."

After waiting for a response that never came, you laughed off your silliness and shook your head. Your laptop was overheating, giving off a slight synthetic smell. Should have upgraded a long time ago. Just need to put enough money aside.

"OK, screenshots," you said. "I wanted to take some screenshots. Do you mind, Raphael? Can I have your consent? They’ll help recruit more followers for you, my liege."

Your phone vibrated. The FaceID gave you a preview of the Discord messages from Queen-of-the-Bored, one of the few Raphaelites you'd actually spoken to directly and felt like you kinda sorta knew.

queen-of-the-bored: ngl that was some really funny joke, we spent the whole night trying to recreate it :-D queen-of-the-bored: you sounded legit worried over that voice message tho haha you: it was legit. check the reddit thread queen-of-the-bored: which thread

Ok, let me google that for you. You typed in the same search words as yesterday, "Raphael naked mod April prank," clicked on the thread from yesterday, and skimmed through the comments.

“nah not joking there is this naked mod for teenage mutant ninja""

“all dongs appeared MASSIVE on April’s first”

Scrolling further, you realized that was not the correct Raphael - it's Raphael the Turtle, not Raphael the Devil. Why was there so much NSFW content about him? What did people see in turtles?

You quickly corrected your search to "Raphael BG3 naked mod April prank," but it didn’t bring back any relevant results. So, you changed it to "last twenty four hours" just to be thorough.

Didn’t help. Nothing. You were the only to be called a naughty little mouse. The special one.

queen-of-the-bored: which thread dude??? you: my bad it was the turtle queen-of-the-bored: ??? queen-of-the-bored: I am slowly getting worried about you haha

Next step? Contact the mod developer directly? What if they have no idea what you're talking about?

Then what? What were the alternative theories? You've been hacked and doxxed to madness for that one Twitter post that got people waving pitchforks at you?

There you go, you were scared again. Daytime, sun shining and children playing outside, but there you were, alone in your flat, scared again.

You took a deep breath and looked at the screen. "All right, I understand, Mr Archdevil Supreme. No screenshots. I'll uninstall the mod and I apologise for my disrespectful behaviour."

You couldn't bear to see Raphael's face on the screen again so you hit ctrl alt delete instead of Escape and stared blankly at the Task Manager.

Next, you uninstalled the mod that had caused all this trouble. Then you went to Tumblr and removed the reblog of Raphael in a cat playsuit with the tag "my poor miau miau". Then you deleted your bookmarks on AO3. Your Twitter account was beyond repair, so you deleted it altogether.

None of these actions made you feel any better. You grabbed a quick cup of shrimp noodles, but eating it only made you feel worse. As you tasted the sodium on your tongue, you came to a realisation: what you needed was to go the fuck outside.

You had been stuck in your flat and home office since the start of the pandemic, chronically online. Online work, online colleagues, online friends, who was the last real person you saw, talked to and hugged?

Your mum, probably.

Oh yes, no wonder you were going mad. You need to get out there and meet some real people. You opened Discord, quickly scrolled past the sketch of Tav giving Raphael head, and typed a message: you needed to touch grass.

queen-of-the-bored: well there is Comic-Con this weekend you: this is NOT touching grass, this is burning it queen-of-the-bored: true you: besides not going alone queen-of-the-bored: maybe Raph will keep you company 😈

What? Such a strange thing to say. Or was it? Who the hell was that behind the screen anyway? Apparently someone called Sammy from Ohio. Supposedly. Wasn’t she the one who recommended this mod?

She was.

Come on, you're just letting your paranoia get the best of you.

queen-of-the-bored: oh BTW I found THE hottest Raph smut queen-of-the-bored: mind the tags it's so hot but soooooo fucked up queen-of-the-bored: just read it trust me thank me later

Who the hell were you, Sammy from Ohio, Korilla? You put the phone down and started pacing around your small flat. It was not much to pace around, only forty-two square meters.

At least you rent a flat in a building with other people and not some house at the edge of the forest. Strangers live below you, above you and on either side of you. They don't know you and you don't know them... but they were there, just in case...

Just in case.

"You know what?" you said to your computer. "I need a break. I need to focus on my mental health. Self-care, Raphael. I'm not playing with you. For now".

The moment you finished speaking, your phone lit up again with another notification. This time it was an email. You made a mental note to start managing your notifications better.

What the fuck? Oh no, no, click away and make a mental note to never order from Bad Dragon again with customer satisfaction emails like this. It's borderline harassment. You ordered from them ONCE, as a joke, just to see what ridges might feel like.

Not as good as the smut had promised you,

Private. Private stuff. Between you and your bed drawer. Between you and your browser. God, how much stuff you have in your browser history. You should have used incognito mode more often.

Would that have helped?

"That was low, Raphael," you muttered. "Or is it Haarlep today?"

You glanced around your room before angling your computer screen towards the wall, then retrieved the Devil Dick © from its hideaway in your bedside drawer. Your fingers grazed over the silicon ridges as you swiftly stashed it away in a box beneath the bed.

"If you must know, it was too big for me. Flattered?"

Crawling out from under the dusty bed, you looked up and realized for the first time that anyone in the building could easily peep into the flat if they tried hard enough or cared enough to do so.

Enough is enough.

You need to hydrate, you need to eat some vegetables, you need to start jogging again and you definitely... you definitely need to go out and talk to some real people. Maybe it's time to get back on Bumble and try your luck again. Who knows, it might actually work this time.

He wouldn't like that.

Where did that thought just come from? He wouldn't like it, who the hell cares what some imaginary devil thinks.

Standing up straight, you pointed a finger at the screen in front of you.

"Raphael, just so we are clear, you and I: I really like you. I do PR for you every day for free. You don't have to scare me to get my attention. You should appreciate me and be nice to me. I'm the best agent you'll ever have.”

Having made your point, you put on your running shoes and AirPods. It brought back memories of all the times you had jogged through the nearby park. Afterwards you'd sit on the bench and eat an ice-cream, watching couples, happy and glowing, watching families with children, happy and stressed, watching people living their lives in a reality parallel to yours, and then you'd come home and go into a reality parallel to theirs.

The AirPods picked up right where they left off last time.

I want to hold you close, soft breasts, beating heart, as I whisper in your ear

I wanna fucking tear you apart

You removed the AirPods from your earlobes and exhaled. This wasn’t Raphael's fault. This is She Wants Revenge, you have listened to it a thousand times. You knew the lyrics, they hadn't changed.

You can't even listen to music anymore. Pull yourself together.

Get some vitamins from the pharmacy.

Touch some goddamn grass.

***

You stuck to your digital and physical diet until the weekend, and as a reward, nothing happened. No oddly timed emails, no strange messages, no random phone calls. Maybe it was your pitch talk or the vitamins you started taking, but either way, Raphael was on his best behavior, and so were you.

No Tumblr, no AO3. Didn't even touch Steam. Got into a highbrow podcast about the Roman Empire.

You set a new personal record for days without 'self-indulgence', as Raphael would put it, although that wasn't really the intention. Something always seemed to interrupt - whether it was the loud hum of the fridge (which was always obnoxious) or the flickering light in the hallway (which had been broken for over a week).

By Friday, you had finally finished the work projects you had been putting off for months. The job wasn't too bad, but it hadn't been any fun for years, if it ever had been. You did the bare minimum to get the paycheck and keep the job, and your employer kept the paycheck at the bare minimum to keep you. If there was anything else you could do, you would do something else.

Still, this was probably the most productive week you had in years. You scrubbed your flat from top to bottom twice and cleared your wardrobe of clothes that no longer fit.

You were proud of yourself.

Gradually your sense of security began to return. You tried not to dwell too much on the incident with the naughty little mouse; if you didn't think about it, it almost felt like it hadn't happened.

On Friday, you plucked up the courage to play BG3 again, wandered through Baldur's Gate, avoiding the House of Hope for the time being, had a few fights, played the graveyard scene with Astarion (daring, but a small part of you hoped it would make Raphael jealous enough to come out again), and shut it down.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

You hadn't planned to go to Comic-Con. For one thing, it was on the other side of the city, in the business district of the convention centre, so it would take at least an hour to get there. Secondly, going alone just felt... weird.

It was not until Friday night that a little voice in your head started to whisper, "Why not? Maybe you'll meet some like-minded people”. Make some friends you can actually touch (not in a creepy way).

It's a better chance than endlessly swiping on Bumble.

Maybe you'll meet...

Neil Newbon. If you can get past the hordes of fangirls. Andrew Wincott. No, Andrew Wincott wouldn't be there; you'd checked beforehand. To be honest, hearing his voice might have been too much for your psyche at that moment.

So you decided to go. You went, and it was as fun as you had imagined it would be - that is, hardly any. The convention hall was huge and crowded, rows and rows of stalls, crowds and crowds of people. Live panel discussions, cosplayers, flashing lights, bright colors, chatter, laughter, very loud, very lively.

Raphael wouldn't last a minute in that chaos.

"Hell is other people," you thought to yourself, quoting Sartre. If you ever met Raphael, you'd quote Sartre to him too. He must know that you read intelligent books and not just fanfiction.

Some people might be comfortable going to events and eating alone in restaurants, but not you. It's even worse being the odd one out in a group of odd ones. How come all the others had someone to take along? Where did they find all those people in this godforsaken city?

You talked to a few people and a few people talked to you. Nothing really took off. Your mind was elsewhere, to be fair. You were looking for something in the crowd.

Someone.

It was absurd, yes, but so was what happened this week with the mod. You had met a few Raphael cosplayers, three at least, but they were...

Well, of course they weren't him. But they did a great job with the clothes and the hair and the make-up, and one had really great prosthetic horns, and you touched them and admired them and praised that particular Raphael for all his hard work in creating them.

They were real people, not video game characters that had come to life, and neither were you. You looked down at your jeans, at your thighs, and thought you should start jogging again, and felt even less comfortable in your own skin.

Then Neil Newbon came along and things quickly became too chaotic for you.

You decided to take a break and walked down the street until you came across a cosy café - none of that generic chain stuff, but something that tried hard to be authentic with pretty flowers in the windows.

Sitting alone at a table for two, you looked down at your phone and opened the Discord chat because you came here to talk to some real people.

In the main chat, there was a heated debate about whether devils are allowed to torture mortals into signing contracts. Both sides presented arguments based on lore, edition contradictions, past precedents and personal conviction.

A man's voice interrupted you as you typed your own very elaborated opinion of hellish law. "Excuse me, may I?" he asked, his words slightly muffled by the AirPods.

"Sure," you replied with practiced friendliness, not even looking up. That was always your default answer. It's not like you can say no to this kind of request anyway.

People ask and do a lot of things out of politeness. That was precisely why you took the AirPods out of your ears.

The moment you lifted your eyes to meet the man's, you learned the true meaning of the word 'jumpscare'. Your body jerked upwards, the table shook and the coffee cup tumbled - narrowly missing Raphael.

Raphael.

Not a man who looked like Raphael, not a man who was dressed like him - Raphael.

You weren't sure if you made any sound or uttered any words. You probably yelped.

What you did do for sure was gawk.

His skin tone identical; hair slicked back just right; eyes uncannily accurate in hue and shape - down to every wrinkle. A perfectly realistic rendering. Not the uncanny valley type, no, perfectly believable. This is exactly what he would look like if he were real and swapped his fantasy clothes for a business suit.

So this is what it feels like to go completely insane.

Very banal, actually. You are having a psychotic breakdown and no one is even looking at you, except for an imaginary devil.

"Oh my, my apologies," Raphael said as he quickly grabbed napkins to mop up the spreading lake of coffee on the table. "I did not mean to scare you."

Oh, but he did, very much. You could not breathe, your chest encased in an iron brace of fear. It's you who needs to apologise, and apologise fast, and apologise a lot, and beg for mercy. Especially for liking the Twitter art of him being spit-roasted between Yurgir and Haarlep.

If you only knew... you would never have clicked on it... absolutely never... all those posts you wrote...

"Raphael?" you managed to squeak out. “I didn’t mean it, I swear.”

This must be how a deer feels in the headlights of an oncoming truck.

He looked at you, very sincere confusion etched across his handsome face. "Excuse me?"

You drew in a shaky breath, your nostrils flaring as you tried to catch a whiff of cherries under the aroma of fresh coffee, not caring how absurd you appeared. Yes? No? Or was that strawberry jam on his croissant? Have your senses gone haywire? Your mind certainly has.

"You're... you're here to cosplay Raphael?"

The thought tumbled out of your mouth before it had time to fully form in your head. It was the only explanation that made sense... It didn't, but it made more sense than all the others put together.

Raphael moved closer, pulled up a chair and asked, amused: "I beg your pardon, I'm here to do what to whom?"

The voice. The voice was the same. Andrew Wincott's voice. The man had simply stolen his voice. Or had the man stolen it from him? The movements, the mannerisms, the facial expressions. This man could not be Raphael because...

Well, because this man was real. As real as you were.

"Raphael," you explained. "From the video game. Are you here to cosplay... to play... Raphael?"

The man gave you a look as if questioning your sanity, and rightfully so. You were also sweating bullets - could he see the damp patches under your hoodie? You pressed your arms against your sides; wouldn't want him noticing.

"I'm hardly an actor," Raphael replied with a polite smile, "although there was a time in my youth when I entertained such ambitions."

He chuckled lightly and took a leisurely sip of his coffee.

"I'm here to enjoy my espresso, nothing more. I... have never been particularly fond of..." he added with the disdain of a typical middle-aged man, "... video games.”

You had no response for that because Raphael wouldn't be into video games either; that much was believable.

"My office is across the street," he said, pointing towards the office complex opposite you. "Precisely there."

The golden sign on the building across from you, d'Avergni & Partners, told you nothing, except that Raphael had an office job and an office space and a desk and all the things that the devil shouldn’t have because the devil invented them to torture the others.

Raphael was dressed like he had just stepped out of a board meeting. A three-piece slate gray tailored suit, white shirt peeking out from underneath, silk tie and matching pocket square. Of all the modern Raphael AUs, you preferred the Professor one, you voted for it, you had Sucharide’s fic bookmarked. The Professor was more, ugh...

Safe.

As for you, you were wearing a hoodie with your university on it. A clean hoodie, but a hoodie nonetheless. What the hell else would you be wearing to Comic Con? You didn't do your hair. Well, putting it in a ponytail is not doing your hair. Why did you not do your hair?

"I know, I know, you must be wondering why anyone would toil on a weekend," Raphael continued. That was the last thing you were wondering. "Alas, no rest for the wicked."

"Wicked?" you echoed. You looked at the people in the cafe, sure they were staring at the both of you, but they weren't.

"Oh," he chuckled lightly, "it's just an expression – 'No rest for the wicked.' You've never heard it before?"

"Of course I have," you said, momentarily embarrassed. "Never mind...sorry."

"You have nothing to apologise for," Raphael raised his eyebrows. "In fact, I should be the one to apologise for startling you. May I offer you another cup of... ah, what was that... cappuccino? After twelve? Tsk-tsk, young lady".

Not a single modern man could ever manage to say the words "tsk-tsk, young lady" as charmingly. That was Raphael.

"No bother, I can get one myself," you said quickly, about to stand up.

He raised his hand slightly and put it down to halt your movement, and for a second you thought he was going to touch you, and if he had, if you had felt the skin of his skin, he would have felt more real and you would have died on the spot from a bursting heart.

"I have no doubt about that. But may I treat you? It would be my absolute pleasure”.

Pleasure. The way he said the word was straight obscene. You couldn't handle the word 'pleasure' coming from a man who had been responsible for more than half your orgasms in the last few months.

So in your daze, you mumbled: "Yeah. Yeah, sure."

Raphael stood up and walked over to the barista. She acknowledged him, so that's one point for him being real and you not hallucinating. Not only did she acknowledge him but she flashed him a goofy grin - clearly smitten.

Of course she is.

You have to take a picture of him. How do you take a picture of someone without their consent without being a total creep?

You don't. It's in the fucking definition; you can't. But you should. Maybe you'll open your camera roll and see someone completely different, and then you'll know it's time to call for mental health services.

Your phone was buzzing with messages, which you quickly swiped away and went straight to the camera. You took a picture of him from behind while he ordered you a coffee. The barista gave you a “fucking weirdo” look.

Fuck you, you thought, you have no idea what I am going through right now. Then you switched to the camera roll and checked to see if the photo reflected what you saw.

A broad, fit back of a very attractive middle-aged man with lush brown hair, paying for coffee with cash.

You couldn't decide whether this made you feel better or worse.

When Raphael returned with your cup, you had something for him too. "This is the character I was talking about," you said, a screenshot of virtual Raphael ready on your screen.

Anyone who saw the screenshot would say, "Who motion-captured me?"

Not Raphael. He barely glanced before shrugging and handing your phone back. "Hmm, I see some resemblance, I guess."

Resemblance? What fucking resemblance? There was no resemblance; he WAS Raphael! You were about to argue but he beat you to it: "Why? Were you hoping to meet this...Raphael?"

His voice dropped an octave and he looked at you intently. He was flirting - openly, unashamedly.

"I...I was," you stammered out. "He's my favourite character."

Brilliant, brilliant line. Dear diary, today I wanted to meet Raphael, my favourite character from my favourite game. So much for quoting Sartre.

"Well now, I'm flattered," Raphael purred, causing you to wriggle uncomfortably in your seat. "I do bear some physical likeness."

That was a massive understatement.

The man had a disarmingly charming smile. You tried to remember if Raphael had ever smiled like that in the game. It was mostly scowls and grins and smirks, but this kind of smile? You didn't think so. You caught a glimpse of yourself in his hazel eyes, and that was not Tav; that was you. Just you.

Not that you were unattractive or anything. Average. Maybe even a little pretty on a good day. You didn't like yourself very much. Then again, most people don't. That's how the beauty industry makes its money.

You got your share of attention, some, nothing to brag about. Had two boyfriends, it didn't work out, you used to care, now you don't. Certainly never got any attention from men who looked like him.

Why should this man be interested in you, why? Ah, yes. Your soul. He probably wants your soul. Is it worth much at all? Is it worth coming all the way to Earth? You wanted to apologize to him for going through all this trouble just for you.

"So this event in the convention hall down the street..." he snapped his fingers as if trying to recall a forgotten name.

"Comic-Con 2024," you supplied. "It's huge in fandom culture. TV shows, video games, that sort of stuff.”

"Ah. Not my kind of entertainment - or my kind of audience, for that matter," Raphael said with a slightly raised eyebrow, eyeing the “Astarion approves” badge on your backpack. "It does remind me of a deal I signed recently."

"Deal?" you asked in a weak voice. He nodded. "What deal? With who?"

"With who? No, I meant the Microsoft-Blizzard acquisition".

Ah, that kind of deal. The words felt so reassuring, so real, the acquisition. Raphael would have no idea about these words. Raphael wouldn't say "Microsoft". You mean the real Raphael. What the hell is a 'real' Raphael again?

For the first time, you let go of a little tension. You took a first sip of your coffee and leaned back slightly in your chair.

"Actually, I think these acquisitions are really harmful for the industry," you said.

Why did you have to be so confrontational? You didn't have anything clever to say about such things, so you spoke the truth instead. Bad idea.

"How candid of you to say that. Well, I’ll be just as candid with you: I am indeed a villain." Raphael grinned. "I hope you can forgive me."

There went your short-lived relaxation, which lasted less than a minute. Raphael had just looked at you and said "I am a villain". Challenge him. Tell him it's him because, well, it's him. It can only be him. Tell him you know it's him, and then...

And then what?

"Everybody's got a job to do, I guess", you managed to utter the most generic phrase in existence.

"Isn't that so..." Raphael replied, pausing for a moment before finishing the sentence with your name.

You did not introduce yourself to him. You were sure of it. Absolutely sure.

"How do you know my name?" you asked, half rising from your chair, raising your voice and quickly lowering it again. "I didn't tell you my name. How do you know it?"

Raphael gestured to your phone, which lay on the table screen between the two of you. Your work ID card was tucked away in its transparent case - something you hadn't needed for a while.

It had your first and last name on it.

"I saw it right before my eyes," he explained. "I thought it was a hint."

"It wasn't," you said.

"Oh, another faux pas on my part then," he said. "At this rate, I owe you something to make up for all my many transgressions. Perhaps dinner?"

You let out a nervous chuckle. One of your popular Tumblr posts had been an impassioned rant about how Raphael had promised a similar in-game offer but failed to deliver despite the many times you gave him the Crown.

"I seem to have absolutely terrified you, and that was not my intention. I insist on making it up to you. If you allow me, of course. I don't want to impose. Would you allow me to?"

He looked at you with the intensity of a man admiring a beautiful woman, his shoulders back and chin slightly up, trying to present himself from his best angle - something you've seen men do before, but rarely (if ever) to you. It was as if he could hang on every word that came out of your mouth, simply because he enjoyed watching your lips move. Raphael looked like he was in love, for Christ's sake.

Your cheeks grew warm.

"Yes," you replied.

He kept silent for a bit, savouring your answer.

"Splendid. Where might I collect you?"

It took you a moment to realise that he was asking for your address. Your personal address. Shouldn't he know it already, if he was Raphael? You replied as nonchalantly as possible:

"Why don't I give you my number and we can arrange to meet at the center?"

His expression darkened slightly; you've seen this look in the game before.

No, you shouldn't have said that. You wanted him to like you.

Desperately.

"You don't trust me?" Raphael's voice dropped an octave or two, playful and just a little threatening.

You felt his breath on your face (cherries?) and the next second you stopped feeling your legs. The attraction that had been simmering inside you for months started boiling over.

Breathe. Pretend it's not Raphael. A man came up to you in a coffee shop and asked you if you trusted him in that kind of tone, leaning in like that. You know what the sensible thing to do would be - get up and walk away. And if it really was Raphael, get up and run away.

You remained seated and stayed.

"Just, ugh..." was all you managed to get out of the jumbled thoughts in your head; two coherent sentences so far into the conversation, and both of them made you sound like an absolute madwoman.

Raphael laughed.

"Of course you don't trust me, that's only prudent, and you seem to be quite an intelligent young lady. But just so we are clear, you and I: you have nothing to fear from me. What is that number of yours?"

Quite an intelligent young lady, the words echoed in your mind and you remembered your naughty anonymous Tumblr confession: I would suck every last drop of cum out of him as long as he kept praising me.

God, everything you've read with him in the main role. Double penetration, double vaginal penetration, pet play... you weren't even into half of it. You hoped Raphael didn’t think you actually wanted him to do all of the things you read with you.

You just liked clicking on random links.

"Do you need something to write it down or...?" you asked hesitantly.

"I will remember," he said curtly. “I do not forget things easily”.

You realised that there was something far more frightening than anything that had happened before: that he wouldn't remember, that he would never call you, and that this conversation and this meeting would end there.

So you carefully enunciated each number, then took a pen from your pocket and wrote it down on a napkin: it seemed romantic in the movies, but your handwriting and the coffee stain made it look like a secret message from the madhouse.

He grinned and tucked the napkin into the pocket of his suit.

He took the last sip of coffee and then took your hand in his. He touched you. His skin was warm and real and soft and everything you had ever imagined, his touch surprisingly tender.

Your whole body responded to that tiny crumb of affection, viscerally. You hadn't realized how famished you were for a touch until that moment.

He lifted your hand to his lips and pressed them against yours. His lips were soft too, slightly damp from the coffee.

"I am looking forward to our rendezvous," Raphael murmured against your palm. "Ver much so."

Rendezvous.

In any other situation, a middle-aged man kissing your hand would be downright creepy. But this... this was a fever dream, an illusion, anything but reality. Because there was no way this madness could actually be happening to you.

Was it a bad thing? Was reality ever... this? So unpredictable? So exciting?

You only snapped out of it when the door closed behind him, but you snapped out hard. You practically threw yourself at the next table, where a group of guys were sitting, their appearance screaming video games - backpacks and scruffy beards, Warhammer-emblazoned T-shirts.

You grabbed one by the shoulder and hissed urgently: "Guys-guys-guys-guys." Your words came like rapid fire. "Tell me that guy doesn't look exactly like Raphael from Baldur's Gate? That one? On the street behind the window?"

Damn, you sounded desperate.

"Ah, sorry, never played it," came the nonchalant reply before he turned back to his friends' conversation.

"Baldur's Gate," chimed in another, his face lighting up. "Amazing game. Looks like who?"

"Raphael," you said. "The devil."

The guy laughed, but didn't even look where you were pointing.

"Ah, the two-pump chump?"

You shot a quick glance at Raphael. His eyes met yours through the glass window, and they were cold now; his smile was gone.

I didn't say that, you pleaded with him in your thoughts. That guy said that. That guy over there. I would never say that.

Your defence of his bed skills stretched from Reddit to Tumblr threads, you argued that Haarlep was slandering him, that Raphael was the best fuck there ever was and you personally vouched for that because you fucked him a thousand times in your head.

"Don't call him that, please," you whispered to the guy. He gave you a confused look when you pointed at Raphael again: "Look at him. The one staring at us. Does he look like him?

Is he real? Do you see him too?

"Ah yes," he admitted with a grin on his face, raising the cup of coffee to his lips, "he sort of does. Yes, he does! Well, I hope he doesn't...oh shit! FUCK!".

The guy's face contorted in pain as he clutched his mouth, jumping, cursing, tears streaming down his face. You could see the skin on his lips reddening and blistering.

"What the fuck?! It's fucking boiling! FUCK! "

The barista rushed over to him, spewing apologies as she tried to handle the situation. You took a step back and glanced at Raphael whose lips were moving subtly - two syllables that matched rhythmically: 'bye-bye' or maybe 'ciao-ciao'.

It didn't have to be 'ta-ta'. He waved nonchalantly at you.

You waved back.

NEXT: Chapter 3, In Which Larian Introduces The Raphael Romance

#bg3 raphael #raphael the cambion #raphael x player #raphael x tav #raphael x oc #raphael x you #meta fanfic #knock knock

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