#came up with it on the spot and ive been told it sounds like a biscuit brand

[blooming-cecilia]

me when im self indulgent once again

[betterthana-six]

| MUSIC TO MY EARS - [ABBY ANDERSON] - CHAPTER ONE |

PAIRINGS: stoic!rugby player abby x fem!reader

SUMMARY: you and your new(ish) roommate, Abby Anderson, have gotten into an argument. about what? unclear at the moment. but it's got Abby in a fit of shame. until late one night she hears you outside with someone whose voice she doesn't recognize and listens in.

WARNINGS: this is my first story ive ever published here. please be kind! i am fragile lol. this is definitely a slow burn, but lots of pining, yearning, and, yes, smut to come. TRUST. so, mdni. there are a lot of flashbacks between now and when they met so we get the full story eventually. this is more of a light hearted story but it does deal with coming to terms with sexuality (and who best to help you along that journey but rugby playing and stoic Abby Anderson?). anyways, i hope that the five people who might read this like it. I've proofread but, like, nobody's perfect. if people like this and want it as a series, ill make a more personalized playlist for it.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Music To My Ears: Chapter 1

Abby is in your dorm room stretched out in bed with a book in her hands when she hears voices coming from outside. She watches the shadows dance in the light that extends under the door and into the room. It’s late. Abby hasn’t seen you all day. 

She tries to go back to reading, but her eyes glaze over the words almost immediately. Someone is leaning on the door, off and on making the hinge jingle in a way that is most times ignorable. Drunk students came through all the time, lingering in the hallways and leaning on the doors. But it isn’t ignorable now, not for Abby. 

The voices are muffled. They sound like they’re… giggling. One giggle is definitely yours. Abby could spot it from a mile away. The other’s is unfamiliar. Abby’s been reading the same passage over and over again and doesn’t even realize it.

It goes quiet outside and this time Abby closes the book, suddenly over-aware of her surroundings. She looks up at the reading light hanging from the headboard and instinctively switches it off. But she doesn’t want it to look like she turned it off because of them? She turns it on again without thinking and turns it off again, quickly entertaining the idea of faking sleep and listening in. With her hand on the switch Abby stops, realizing that they might start noticing the light going on and off and think she’s trying to signal something. She shakes her head at herself with embarrassment. She covers her face with both her hands. So stupid… she says under her breath. 

It’s been quiet for so long out there. But the shadows are still there. Abby lays down in bed and forfeits to her desire to eavesdrop. As icky as it makes her feel.

Your voice comes through finally. 

“What?” You ask, innocently.

“Don’t look at me like that.” An unfamiliar voice chimes in. It’s a woman’s voice. Abby couldn’t tell if she was feigning some sort of annoyance with you or if it was genuine.

“Like what?” 

A silence passes.

You sigh loudly. “Well, what’d you think of what I sent you? That wasn’t a cheap effort, you know. Full body mirror in the ladies’ locker room. Not too shabby.”

“You have to stop…” The other voice says, with a playful twinge that makes Abby’s curiosity perk up like dog ears. 

“Stop what? I can’t send you photos?” Your voice tells Abby you were in some daze, in the same way she could sometimes hear singers smile through their lyrics. Just thinking about you out there in the hall hanging onto the door and onto each of her words, shining your big green eyes at her. It sends a shiver down Abby’s spine.

“Not anymore,” the stranger says casually. “It was really good seeing you tonight but I have a boyfriend, remember? And I’ve told him about…us. High school. He knows… is the thing. He thinks I’m studying for midterms right now.” 

You laugh at that. In a sweet way, though. “Right,” you say and you sigh, seemingly unaffected by the reminder. “Jeremy?”

“Jeremiah,” the woman corrects.

“God, that’s even worse.” 

Abby snorts, basically smashing her lips shut with her hand, and then rages at herself silently in the dark for fear they may have heard her.

 “Did you… even look at them?” you ask. God, are you drunk? Abby has now given up on the book entirely, laying up on one elbow to stare at the door, imagining the conversation visually. 

A laugh from the woman. Mumbling now, feigning sheepishness, “Yeah.”

“And?”

“And…I think…about them, about you. Of course.” Abby’s hands are clasped together, tightening around one another at this.

“Yeah…?” you draw out the stranger’s words seductively with your own. Abby imagines you in the long, maroon dress you typically wear for special occasions. Was this a special occasion? She nearly has the impulse to check your closet just to be sure, but that’s crazy and much more invasive that what she was already doing. Her knuckles are turning white.

“And I think in another universe, maybe. Not this one. I can’t. You know why,” the stranger says sheepishly. “You’re so sweet.” And, in Abby’s imagination, there’s a dainty, gloved hand reaching out to caress your face condescendingly. The illusion entrances her to near paralysis.

A long pause from you. Abby listens hard, completely unable to stop herself from paying close attention now. In the near silence, Abby could sense your breath faltering through the door. Despite how the two of you left things, she didn’t want to see you hurting like that. Say something… Abby thinks.

When Abby hears you speak again, the sweetness in your voice has vanished. She nearly doesn’t recognize the sound. 

“Fuck…” There’s a lump in your throat, Abby could tell just from your voice when you were smiling and, just as easily, she could hear when you were about to burst into tears. “Why… why did you invite me out tonight then?” 

No answer.

“You have a boyfriend…” you continue in a matter-of-factly tone, raising your voice a bit, to Abby’s surprise. “Jeremy…yeah, so you’ve explained. Great guy, great future. So, you have the boyfriend, the good job lined up, you’re almost done with college. Man, you’re doing fucking great.” Abby’s mouth was left agape, her heart cheering with unwarranted pride for you, urging you on to read this stranger to filth. “Why start texting me again?” You ask.

“You’re here,” the woman clarifies indignantly, like it should be obvious. “I wanted to see you. I didn’t know you transf-”

 “That’s not what I’m ask- why’d you ask me out tonight?” You cut her off. “Purely to fuck with me?”

“No…”

“No, what? I’m just- I’ve always just been here at your disposal. Ever since we were teens. Chasing my tail around like a dumb dog, waiting for her master to one day be unashamed to be seen with me.” Abby’s hand travels to her mouth now in delight. She’s smirking like a clown, fully impressed with you. But, you were in tears at this point. Abby knew by now that, only drunk, would you show your tears like that. “Abby was right,” you mutter. Abby almost didn’t hear you.

“I’m gonna go,” the woman said. “It was good seeing you tonight.” It sounded like more of a question than a genuine statement. And then the sound of footsteps, a shadow moving away and then out of sight.

“Yeah. Go, for fuck’s…” You say messily. You were definitely not sober. And then Abby hears your body thud against the door one last time and senses you sliding down to the floor. She hears the tears. Abby instinctively began to get up, feeling the need to see you, talk to you, hold you. 

But she stopped herself. You wouldn’t even talk to her a few hours ago, why would you want her comfort now?

***

At that point in time, you and Abby were seasoned roommates. Well, not seasoned. You guys were in that awkward in-between stage of knowing each other where you’d half-memorized each other's schedules but there wasn’t any synchronicity to your dynamic yet. Changing clothes in the same room was still very touch-and-go.

However, when you first met there was immediate tension. It was winter then, and transferring colleges midway through sophomore year meant knowing absolutely no one. At least, you thought, you would have a roommate. But, when you first met, Abby was so much… harder. And, she was stoic and casual in a way that threw you off entirely.

“Are you looking through my shit?”

“No!” You said stiffly, whipping your head around to catch sight of the figure in the door. But, there you were. You stood fixed on her side of the room, where you just had your eyes deeply focused on the engraved rugby medals hanging on the shelf, her shelf. You were caught red handed and the lie came out of your mouth readily and in a panic. Abby was already smirking. 

“Yes,” you corrected yourself. “Sorry. I don’t know why I lied. But I’m just looking. I’m not going through it, per say, I promise.” 

Abby laughed and rolled her eyes. “Calm down. It’s fine.”

You smile and take five awkward steps over to your side where your bed was just a bare, blue mattress and your luggage rested waiting to be unpacked. It was a stark comparison between our sides of the room even still. Her bed was military neat, with perfectly tucked in covers and a single pillow centered at the head. The medals were all lined up but in a way that didn’t look too showy. Some polaroids were tucked into the creases between her window and the sill. Your suitcases were patterned and scuffed badly on the corners. Littered across them all were stickers you had found from anywhere you could find them. Your clothes made you look avant garde compared to Abby and you had a sudden knot in your stomach that told you to feel self-conscious. 

“They didn’t tell you who was moving in here, did they?” you asked.

“Ah. Typical administration shit. I didn’t even know someone was moving in today,” she explained, throwing her gym bag down onto her bed and then turning to you with an open hand to shake. “Abby.”

You shook her hand, returning her name with yours. You noticed the way Abby looked deeply into your eyes for a long second, too long for a first introduction. And the way she smirked at you while she did it confounded you; it was the same way someone held out their hand to a stray cat. To be fair, that was an accurate analogy. You were clad in winter jackets with a flushed face whereas she was radiating heat, skin almost steaming under her gym clothes. Her hands were rugged, you noticed.

“Well,” Abby said, turning to her bed and unzipping her gym bag. “I’ve been told I’m a good roommate. By no one actually. You’re the first roommate I’ve had since the first half of my freshman year. Uh…I keep to myself. I need quiet most nights because I get up early, so no boyfriends over on weekdays.”

You nodded along when she turned to you and sat on the edge of her bed wearing a slight grimace at that last idea. “But if you do, do me a favor and just text me beforehand. Don’t want to be walking in on any man butt.” You laughed a bit loudly at that. You just shook your head.

“No. That won’t be a problem,” you said. Abby caught your eye suspiciously and cracked a small and crooked smile.

“Okay,” Abby said. She turned back around, grabbed a towel from her drawers, and threw it on the bed. Then, she casually lifted her sweaty wife beater up over her head and it’s only then that you look at Abby long enough to notice her size and shape. She was severe, and you’d been so caught up in meeting her, you didn’t necessarily take in her physical appearance. But now that she faced away you could see the sheer definition of her body, starting at the dimples on her lower back trailing up to her massive shoulders. All of it glistening with a polished coat of sweat.  And the rest… it would take a few more interactions to even comprehend all of her.

She must have sensed the eyes on her back because she turned around. You looked away quickly, trying busy yourself with the things around you, but there was nothing. 

“Sorry,” your cheeks flushed red. But Abby was full frontal, positioned now with her messy hair unbraided, sprawled around her shoulders, grinning at you. She paused for a moment, maintaining eye contact, with only a towel around her waist.

But then she just shrugged, grabbed her toiletries, and said, “Later.”

You watched her leave. Watched her with wide eyes as she opened the door with one hand and used the other one to lazily cover her chest as she headed towards the showers. You even heard her say “sup” to someone on her way.

Alone, you felt the rush of the moment channel directly to your stomach and burst like flames across your face. 

***

That was just the beginning. Abby thinks of it now.

Now, face up on her bed, contemplating her next move, Abby recalls you as you were. She was immediately taken with you, that first day. Your wide eyes and timidity around her. Abby's own stupid, casual arrogance. Obviously, as Abby quickly learned later, that first impression of you was not at all fully representative of the truth. 

Maybe if she had stopped then, stopped the teasing, stopped what she intended to be light, meaningless flirting, Abby wouldn’t be hesitating to open the door. Perhaps she would be opening the door to find you in tears, take your face in her hands and tell you everything she’d been aching to say for three months now.

Abby gets up off her bed and walks to the door. She squeezes the handle, takes a breath, and then turns it slowly.

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Chapter 2

[mrsackermannx]

chef!sukuna who’s still lower in the rank than he wants to be, but so close to being a sous. tonight is his night to do the night’s special dish, finally. he earned this. he knew that if the head chef just let him, he could create the best dish ever served at this damn place.

so, he does just that.

he’s immediately scolded, the dish uses too many ingredients, the head says. too much to prepare. too ambitious. even though he used all of the left over ingredients from the menu’s usuals. 0% waste, 0% additional cost.

sukuna curses, taking a deeper drag of his cigarette. “make sure no table gets that shit,” he hears, with his fists clenching at his sides. ill go to the gym after this, he thinks, yeah, punch the fuck out of that bag.

it turns out that only table 8 has the dish, your table. the server messed up and now they’re crying in the back to the porter because they’ve been fired on the spot. “i told you not to fucking take it! have you never done expo-“

sukuna stalks calmly to the shaking waiter, “show me table eight-“ he sighs, levelling the head chef with a glare, sukuna was much larger, much stronger than him, difference in rank or not. he stood down, stalking down the other side of the kitchen with a huff. “ignore him, i wanna see who’s eating my dish, come on, let’s go.”

a reassuring pat to the shoulder from sukuna was almost enough to make him cry even more. sukuna kind of hated everyone.

“just there, chef. the couple, bedside the pillar on the left…its um…her, chef.” he grins, watching how transfixed the normally gruff man is, “your girl heh heh.”

“shut up,” he says, but he smiles a little.

he watches you, sat opposite some guy you hardly look interested in, you’re beautiful, the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, as always, his eyes are drawn to you, no other woman could compare.

he watches you slice through his dish, the fork at your lips, as soon as it reaches your mouth you make a noise of such rapture, a sudden quiet falls upon the floor of the restaurant.

it’s almost weird how heat rushes low at the sight and the sound, he can’t remember the last time anyone else fired him up like this. he never took himself to have any kind of food fetish, either. yet watching you eat his dishes always seems to be an erotic exchange he never anticipates.

“oh…him? think they’re married?”

“i don’t think so.”

that man seems to hiss at you, eyes on his watch, barely touching his dish. “i wanted pizza downtown, god.”

you shake your hand in dismissal, shoving another forkful in your mouth. “i wanted this, i always want this.”

sukuna let’s out a breathy fuck, and the server practically faints.

no one was immune to sukuna’s charm, then, it seemed.

“oh, fuck, table 7 saw me. fuck, chef ive already been fire-“

“go and give them a reason not to fire you. go, go to your table kid, it’s still yours, right?”

the table beside you seems to have called him over, asking for the same dish you seem to believe has came from heaven, telling anybody who asks.

sukuna can’t help but enjoy the lively affair, as the restaurant manager tries to explain over and over to more and more tables that the chef special has been cancelled. oh, how he loved this little bit of chaos.

“why?” your voice clatters through the cacophony like a piece of silverware on crockery. “this dish is phenomenal, the best ive ever eaten here and in this city, in this country-“

“miss-“

“taste it! can you not taste the hard work? the thought? its the best thing ive ever eaten. the chef who made this has impeccable taste and talent.”

your laughter rings through the place at your partners embarrassment. sukuna is about to pry himself away and head back into the kitchen, leaning on the side of the bar and then…your eyes meet, another forkful is waiting before those glossed lips. another sweet sound of joy rings through the air.

now you see him, huh?

your smile is sweeter than agave, “it’s you.”

your words are lost on everyone around you, but to sukuna he hears them as if you whispered them right against his ear.

sukuna was a tall, broad, and unquestionably handsome man, unmissable out of his chef whites, invisible in them, somehow. obscured by the ambient lighting of the restaurant.

you near him, like a moth to a flame, a sensual air to the way your hips flick toward him. “you-“

the head chef storms through to the restaurant floor, the door slamming you both into the corresponding wall. his large arms wrap around you, his hand cups the back of your head.

he slowly retracts his hand, and your chest rises as you resist the urge to press your cheekbone into his palm, “are you okay?”

his voice is deep and addicting, dark and dripping down your throat.

you’re beaming at him, like he’s an angel, like he’s somebody you already adore. he gifts you a lover’s laugh, “you seem to be the only satisfied person in the building tonight.”

“seems like you’ve satisfied me sir.” you wink, still letting his aura press you into the wall, he cages you in with his arms.

“oh?”

“last thursday. that soup, you made it, didn’t you…?”

“sukuna,” he answers for you, “maybe.”

“seafood special last month?”

“yes, and your name?”

for some reason he’s out of breath, you’re so close, so fancy in your silk dress, clad in jewellery that sparkles even under these dimmed lights. “reader, you…you’re a genius.”

“so you came to thank me personally?” he leans closer, swiping sauce from the corner of your lip. it lingers on his thumb, his eyes chase yours as he licks it. “how sweet of you.”

[callmedaleelah]

— Pinnacle [ tsukishima kei university au series ]

— i keep recalling things we never did ; why are you eating ramen and burnt cheesecake in a café with him? what if people think that you’re on a date?

author’s notes : no mention of (y/n), written in second person pov, semi alternative universe, timeskip!tsukishima, college life, not proofread, english is not my first language

[ masterlist ] | [ ask daleelah go to box box 🐭 ]

The morning air was cool as you stepped into the classroom, your heart heavy with anxiety. The exhaustion from the past week clung to you, but there was also a small flicker of gratitude in your chest. Tsukishima had been there for you all night, helping you cram as much information as possible. He had even insisted on dropping you off at class, carrying your bag and other belongings because your hand still hurt from the IV needle. He made sure you were settled in your seat before leaving without a word, a gesture that left you both touched and a bit bewildered. You promised yourself you would find a way to thank him properly after this exam, maybe by treating him to something nice or doing whatever he wanted.

As the exam began, your worries resurfaced. Despite Tsukishima’s help, you still felt unprepared. Some of the questions seemed foreign, and you found yourself leaving several blank as the clock ticked down. By the time it was over, a sense of dread had settled in your stomach. You could barely remember walking out of the classroom, your mind too preoccupied with thoughts of failure. All you wanted was to get back to your dorm and rest, but the nagging uncertainty about the answers kept you flipping through your book as you walked.

“Loosen up, the exam is over,” came a familiar voice from behind you.

You turned to see Tsukishima standing there, a slight grin playing on his lips as he approached. There was a teasing glint in his eyes as he reached out to close your book gently. “Your body has been telling you to stop looking at your books since yesterday when you collapsed at the infirmary, and here you are still studying even after the exam is over.”

His words, though spoken with his usual dry tone, held a touch of concern beneath the surface. You wanted to tell him how much you feared you had failed, but the thought of burdening him further made you bite your tongue. Instead, you pushed your emotions aside and mustered a warm smile. “How was your exam?” you asked, trying to shift the focus away from yourself.

“Good, think I did pretty well,” he answered, his confidence evident as he began walking beside you.

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “I want to treat you to something since you took care of me yesterday,” you said, your voice sincere.

He frowned slightly, his expression questioning.

“It’d be impolite of me not to return your kindness,” you replied, hoping he understood how much his help had meant to you.

“Kindness?” he chuckled, a sound that was almost amused. “I told you the doctor asked me to help. I was just doing her a favor.”

“Yeah, but still—” you began, feeling a bit flustered by his nonchalant attitude.

He cut you off with a shrug, a small smirk on his lips. “Okay, if you insist. Let’s get some ramen and burnt cheesecake at the café downtown.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his choice, surprised that someone like Tsukishima would have such a specific dessert preference. But you agreed, the thought of resting at your dorm forgotten as the prospect of spending more time with him took over.

The café was as cozy and inviting as you remembered, a favorite spot for university students to unwind. The space was filled with warm lighting and soft music, creating a homey atmosphere that made it easy to relax. Around you, couples occupied most of the tables, enjoying quiet moments together, sharing laughs, and indulging in sweet treats. You couldn’t help but notice how many of them were on dates, their conversations and gestures filled with affection.

As you waited for your order, Tsukishima excused himself to the restroom. Left alone, you glanced around the room, taking in the sight of other students. It struck you suddenly that, from an outsider’s perspective, you and Tsukishima might look like just another couple on a date. The thought sent a brief flutter through your chest, but you quickly shook it off, not wanting to read too much into it. After all, this was just a simple thank-you meal—nothing more.

Or at least, that’s what you kept telling yourself as you waited for him to return.

Two bowl of ramen was steaming, the broth rich and savory, and two slice of burnt cheesecake you ordered sat beside it, looking almost too beautiful to eat. You both settled into a relaxed rhythm, exchanging conversation that flowed more easily than you expected.

“This place is nice,” you commented, glancing around at the cozy interior. “I’ve never been here before.”

“Yeah, I usually come here with Yamaguchi,” Tsukishima replied, taking a casual sip of his tea. “It’s quiet enough, not too crowded. Perfect for avoiding people.”

You chuckled, finding his usual avoidance of crowds almost endearing. “Sounds like you,” you teased lightly. “So, do you always order the burnt cheesecake?”

Tsukishima smirked, a small curve of his lips that was more subtle than full-on amusement. “Only if I’m in the mood,” he said, his eyes glancing at you from beneath his blonde bangs. “I didn’t peg you as someone who’d enjoy this kind of place.”

“I guess I’m full of surprises,” you said with a grin. “But honestly, I’ve been too busy with exams to explore much.”

“Typical freshman,” he muttered, but there was no malice in his tone, only the familiar teasing you were starting to appreciate. “How are you holding up with your classes?”

You sighed, feeling a bit more at ease talking to him than you would have expected a few days ago. “Barely. This semester has been a lot tougher than I imagined. Sometimes I wonder if I’m even cut out for biochemistry.”

He raised an eyebrow, his expression unreadable. “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have made it this far.”

You blinked at his straightforward reply, a warmth blooming in your chest at his unexpected reassurance. “I guess,” you murmured, your voice softer.

As the conversation continued, you found yourself noticing the small details about him, details you hadn’t paid attention to before. The soft freckles scattered across his face, faint but noticeable when the café’s warm light hit him just right. The way his lips quirked into a half-smile when you said something he found mildly amusing. How his eyes, sharp and intelligent, would flicker toward you, only to quickly look away as if he didn’t want to be caught staring.

There was a moment when he laughed—a deep, rich sound that made your heart skip. His nose scrunched slightly, just enough to soften his usual stoic expression, and you realized you liked seeing him like this, more relaxed, more open.

You couldn’t help but wonder if this was a side of Tsukishima that few people got to see, a version of him reserved for moments like these, where the world outside the café didn’t matter.

You smiled, feeling a comfortable silence settle between you, the earlier tension from your exam worries fading into the background. It felt nice, this moment of connection between you two, and for a while, you let yourself forget the pressures of university life.

But just as you were settling into the calm, your phone suddenly buzzed on the table. The sound broke the quiet bubble you’d been in, and you glanced down to see the reminder flashing on the screen—Take your ginger tonic and vitamins.

You quickly snoozed the alarm, feeling a slight flush rise to your cheeks, but it was too late. Tsukishima had already stolen a glance at your phone, his lips quirking up into an amused smirk.

“So, you like ginseng tonic?” he asked, his tone teasing as he raised an eyebrow at you.

You nearly choked on your food, shaking your head furiously. “No—my mom makes me,” you replied, a bit more defensively than you intended.

Tsukishima seemed taken aback by your quick response, but the surprise quickly faded into another teasing comment. “Seems like your mom really knows how to take care of you,” he said, his voice laced with a playful edge.

You tried to laugh it off, but your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. “She says I’m too clueless to take care of myself, so she has to intervene,” you joked, though there was an undeniable bitterness beneath your words. You hadn’t meant to let it slip, but Tsukishima’s perceptive gaze caught it instantly. His teasing demeanor softened slightly, but he didn’t press further, sensing that there was more to the story.

Instead, he reached across the table, his hand moving with surprising gentleness. Before you could react, his thumb brushed against the corner of your lips, wiping away a small spot of broth you hadn’t noticed. The contact was brief, but it sent a jolt through you, making you freeze as your heart suddenly sped up.

The world seemed to slow down for a moment, and you could feel the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin. Tsukishima’s expression was unreadable, but his eyes held a softness that made your breath hitch. The café around you faded into the background, and all you could focus on was the tenderness in his gesture, the way his eyes flickered with something deeper than just casual concern.

Neither of you spoke, the silence hanging in the air like a delicate thread. You could feel your cheeks growing warm under his gaze, your thoughts a jumble of confusion and a budding realization that perhaps, just maybe, there was something more between you two than just a reluctant mentor-student relationship.

Finally, Tsukishima broke the tension with a small, almost imperceptible smile, his hand retracting back to his side. “You missed a spot,” he said lightly, but his voice had a gentleness to it that made your heart flutter.

You managed a weak laugh, trying to shake off the overwhelming emotions that threatened to spill over. “Thanks,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

The moment passed, but the memory of it lingered, etched into your mind like a secret you weren’t quite ready to share, not even with yourself.

As you both continued to eat, the earlier playful banter faded into a more comfortable silence. Yet, the unspoken understanding between you two grew, and with it, a warmth that neither of you could deny, even if you didn’t fully understand it yet.

The café had grown quieter as the afternoon wore on, the soft hum of conversation and the clinking of dishes providing a comforting background to your shared meal. You and Tsukishima had settled into a relaxed conversation, the earlier tension gradually melting away as you discussed everything from university life to random observations about the people around you.

He had just finished the last bite of his burnt cheesecake, and you were savoring the final spoonfuls of your ramen, the warmth of the broth lingering in your chest. You felt surprisingly content, more at ease than you had in weeks, thanks in no small part to Tsukishima’s presence.

As you set down your spoon, you reached for your bag, ready to pay for the meal as you had promised. But before you could pull out your wallet, you caught the attention of the waiter, gesturing for the bill.

The waiter approached with a polite smile, holding a small leather-bound folder. “Your bill has already been taken care of,” he said, handing the receipt to Tsukishima instead.

You blinked in surprise, your eyes darting between Tsukishima and the waiter. “Wait, what? No, I was supposed to pay—”

Tsukishima looked at you with a calm, unbothered expression, his hand already tucking the receipt into his pocket. “I got it,” he said simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“But… why? I said I’d treat you. You took care of me, remember?” You couldn’t hide the confusion in your voice, your brows furrowed in disbelief.

He leaned back in his chair, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “What kind of man do you think I am, letting a woman pay for the lunch I chose?”

His tone was light, but the weight of his words made your heart skip a beat. There was something undeniably charming in the way he said it, his usual teasing edge softened with a hint of genuine chivalry that caught you off guard.

“But—” you started, but he interrupted, holding up a hand.

“You can save your arguments for next time,” he said, his voice steady and calm. “Consider this a thank you—for putting up with my attitude this past semester.”

You felt your cheeks warm at his unexpected admission, your protest fading into a soft smile. “You’re not that bad,” you said quietly, though your heart was racing a little. “I mean, you did help me a lot.”

Tsukishima’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, you saw something in his gaze that made your breath catch—a fleeting softness, a quiet acknowledgment of the connection that had been growing between you. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by his usual guarded expression, but the memory of it lingered, making your chest tighten with a mix of emotions you weren’t ready to untangle.

“I’m serious, though,” you continued, trying to regain some composure. “Next time, it’s on me.”

He raised an eyebrow, a small, amused smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “We’ll see.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but couldn’t help the warmth that spread through you at the thought of a next time. The idea that there could be more moments like this, more shared meals and conversations, filled you with a quiet sense of anticipation.

As you both stood up to leave, Tsukishima casually picked up your bag, slinging it over his shoulder as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Let’s go,” he said, his voice steady and unhurried.

You followed him out of the café, the afternoon sun casting long shadows on the pavement as you walked side by side. The day had taken an unexpected turn, and you couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude for this moment—one that felt like the beginning of something you couldn’t quite name.

And as you walked together, the light breeze ruffling your hair, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just the end of a shared meal, but is it just you hoping for more?

taglist (free to mention) ; @theweirdfloatything

[upsidedownmvnson]

just a sad little scared eddie blurb to ruin everyone's night <3 reader goes to find him at rick's after chrissys death

i'm just practicing my writing skills, ive been out of practice and need to know if i still got it <3

"Eddie?" you whisper yelled, scared to be at Rick's all by yourself. You'd been here with Eddie a few times, and you just didn't know where else to look. "Eddie are you in there? I'm scared."

Silence.

"I don't think you did it," you kept talking, "I don't think you had anything to do with Chrissy's, uh, ... I don't think you hurt her."

Silence.

If he wasn't here, you wouldn't know where else to look. Tears formed in your eyes at the thought. Wherever he was he was probably terrified, scared that whatever hurt Chrissy will get him too. Or worse... whatever got Chrissy already got him.

"Eddie, please, please be in there!" you raised your voice, your voice crackling and breaking beneath the pressure of your tears, now fully flowing down your face. "Please," your voice lowered again, "I can't help you if I can't find you."

And then there were footsteps. Light, trying to stay quiet, but the small creak of floorboards gave it away, and your breath hitched, trying to stay silent behind your wall of emotion.

"Eddie, it's just me," you whispered, "is that you?"

Your heart started racing, what if it wasn't him? What if it was the bad guy? You braced yourself to run, but, what if it was Eddie? You couldn't just leave him here, scared and alone. You forced yourself forward, touching the doorknob with a shaky hand. You were brave, you could handle this.

You opened the door, the loud creaking of it opening made your heart race so fast you thought it might leap right out of your chest.

"It's just me," you repeated, tip toeing and being quiet. "I really promise," you said, "everyone said to leave it but, I couldn't. I don't think you did that. I don't believe it."

For a moment you believed you were speaking to nothing but shadows, until...

"Really?" came Eddie's soft, broken voice, crackling from days of sobbing, and screaming.

You nearly gave yourself whiplash turning towards the sound, and there he was, puffy eyed and beautiful as ever, huddled in the corner of the room, knees balled up to his chest. And your eyes filled to the brim with tears, their escape unavoidable. The relief you felt when you saw him alive, and not hurt was palpable. Like, subconsciously you were really worried that something even worse had happened to him.

"Really," you promised, taking slow, careful steps towards him.

"I didn't do it, I didn't do that," he promised, eyes threatening to spill more tears down his already painfully stinging cheeks. "I couldn't..."

"I know," you promised, you promised again and again until you had made it in front of him, crouching to be at his level. "Eddie, you don't have to explain yourself to me, I already believe you."

"I'm scared," he whispered, and your heart shattered, like fragile glass, littering pieces of itself across the floor.

"Me too," you said, easing his arms off his knees so you could work your way between them, shuffling between his thighs until they hovered over your own legs, and you were close enough to pull him into a tight hug.

His messy hair fanned over your face and neck, but you didn't care. You held onto him, and he clung to you, like you were the only light in the dark. Like you were the only thing holding him up.

And he sobbed. Wept into your shoulder until big, salty tears landed on your skin, trailing down into your sweater, soaking the material with little wet spots.

"Do you still love me?" he asked, knowing the answer but needing to hear it for himself for it to remain true.

"Of course," you promised, and the violent shaking of his shoulders told you he was sobbing again. And you held onto him, letting him sob, holding him through it. And you'd keep doing that until you could clear his name. Eddie was innocent, you were sure of it, and you would fight for him always.

"I love you," he muttered, words catching and breaking through his tears.

A few more tears fell down your cheeks, and you two were a mess. But you couldn't care less, you found him. He was with you, where he should've always been. And you could help him now.

"I love you too."

[spiderlandry]

steady ticking of a clock (part 1) — ethan landry

Description: You and Ethan became childhood friends when you began talking to each other across your balconies in New Jersey. You both reunite in New York City, older and yet still young; consequently making Ethan face what could have been and what could be.

Pairing: Ethan Landry x GN!Reader (they/them)

Warnings/Tags: unedited (but will edit soon🤝), fluff, angst, open ending but it will be resolved in part 2 🫠, a bit unrealistic college life but for plot reasons

Word Count: 3.4k

Author’s Note: ignore the new york/jersey inaccuracies ive never been there

Ethan once came up with a plan to stay in one spot forever. A point in time that he can live over and over again, never having to move forward with the uncertainty of what shall come next. That point was his childhood aprtment in New Jersey, the week before you left. His solution was a time machine—and he laid out his plans to you when you were almost teenagers.

Your apartment was right next to his. Your balconies were close enough that you could hold a conversation, and your secret meetings soon became the highlight of Ethan’s day. It may have been the mystery of it all; always separated by a fissure between the two platforms but still finding a way to communicate.

Ethan knew the reason he spoke to you was because he felt bad that you were new to the building, and overheard you talking on the phone to a friend back home and telling them that you’d felt lonely in the new city. He even surprised himself with the way he began the conversation with demanding you become his friend rather than asking politely like his father taught him to.

You never had the chance to talk to him face-to-face until you broke the news of your moving to another state once again. It was a vivid memory, the way Ethan’s heart cracked, and he rushed over out into the hallway and told you to meet him out there. He hugged you and said, I’m going to make a time machine so we can live here forever.

Perhaps he had taken your presence for granted, because the next week, you were gone. He never went out into the balcony again.

And now, in New York City, at a frat party Chad dragged him to, Ethan began to think that maybe it wasn’t too late to change his major to theoretical physics and get started on that time machine.

Because you were there. In front of him.

Though you were older, taller, and had an air of confidence around you he‘d never seen but figured you could always have—your smile never changed. The hair was different, but the curve of your lips and the wrinkle of your nose stayed the same. You held a drink in your hand but it wasn’t alcoholic, and Ethan’s mind ran wild with the prospect of your interests and the reasons behind them. You‘ve gained more life experience, just as he had. But that excited him. He wanted to know more, know everything, and know you just as much as he knew you then.

“It’s been a while,” you said. It did a good job of snapping him out of his stupor.

“Um—yeah,” he stammered, putting his hands in his jacket pockets. “It has.”

“You live in New York?”

He scratched an invisible itch on his neck. “Since the last year of high-school. You?”

Maybe his heart broke a second time when you said, “Oh, no. I’m just visiting.”

He was so sure it worsened the one he already had from the first time you left. But there’s no way he’d let you know, if he had anything to do with it.

“How long are you gonna be here, then?” He tried to brush off the slight tremor in his voice, the way he tapered off the question. Hopefully you forgot his tells.

“I’m just here for a few days,” you shrugged. He realized that you sounded sad about it too, but maybe it was wishful thinking on his part. “I’m going back Sunday.”

He held back from asking where exactly you were going back to, but you must have read his mind because you added: “I’m in Chicago now, by the way. Probably dumb, but do you remember—“

The answer tumbled out of him on instinct. “That’s where your brother wanted to go for college.”

A sweet smile graced your face upon hearing it. “Yeah,” you chuckled. “He’s—that’s why we moved again. You go to Blackmore?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “This is just—“ he cringed when somebody bumped into him, spilling a bit of their drink. He subsequently moved to lean against the closest wall out of the way. “I don’t party. Not really. I hate it.”

Pausing, you thought for a moment. “Let’s go outside.”

Ethan hoped he still meant something to you. He was a sentimental person. When he loves somebody, that love will always be there, whether platonic or romantic. But he didn’t know what you were like. Maybe you’d become cold, or mean, though he doubted that because your smile warmed him like the sun.

“How’s the family?” You asked, keeping a short distance from the frat house, leaning against a fence.

“The same,” he sighed. “You?”

“The same.” You grinned. “Does Quinn study here, too?”

“Yeah, yeah she does.”

There was an awkward beat where neither of you knew how to continue this conversation. So much for being childhood friends, he thought.

“Are you…are you with anybody?” You suddenly asked, Ethan’s heart dropping upon hearing it.

At his bewildered expression, you clarified, “I mean at this party! Did you come here with a friend or alone?”

He laughed, relieved. “Yeah, my friend dragged me here. Why? Are you?”

“Visiting my friend. I was just asking because…you know…maybe we could ditch the party for a bit,” you shrugged.

“Really? I mean,” He was a tad too excited. He cleared his throat, reverting his voice back into a lower register, “Really?”

It was your turn to laugh. “Really. I can just text my friend, he’ll understand.”

“Where do you wanna go?”

“Anywhere.”

Walking under the moonlight with nobody else around, Ethan gradually became more comfortable getting to know you all over again. He found out you chose to follow in your brother’s footsteps in studying law in Chicago. You liked milkshakes, your cat was still alive and kicking, and your favourite food was the same as it was years ago.

You got to know him, too. He told you about his major, about his friends, about what he hated in college along with its advantages. You seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say, and though it’s not a competition or anything, he was so sure he was more interested in you than you were of him. He hung onto your every word. He finally opened up the locked box containing his most precious memories of you (every single one of them, that is), and he could add to it again.

There was no doubting of your ability to draw him back into your orbit, regardless of the time lost. Hopefully he would be the same to you.

Look, Ethan hated icebreakers. But when you suggested to play twenty-one questions, he couldn’t possibly turn you down.

They were simple questions. Favourite colour, the place you wanted to travel most, anything either of you thought of.

But you asked: “First love?”

He did not hesitate to answer: “Pass,” Ethan shook his head. “My turn.”

“Wait—hey!” You protested. “You cannot do that.”

“I can do what I want.” He was grinning, but there was a pit in his stomach telling him not to let you find out that he’d never been with anybody.

“Why don’t you wanna answer?”

“Because I don’t!”

You hummed. “I bet you’re still heartbroken,” you teased. “Fine, let’s keep going.”

He didn’t think to ask you about your first love. Maybe he did it on purpose. He really didn’t want that kind of knowledge, it would eat at him knowing he wasn’t yours.

Why, though? As you both reached Ethan’s dorm building, he looked at you—whywhywhywhywhywhy—Why did he hate the idea of him not being your first love?

He didn’t have time to think about that.

He invited you into his dorm with a smile, screaming internally.

Seeing you sitting on his dorm bed was straight out of his dreams. Surreal.

“You’re a sophomore, right?”

“Uhm, yeah.” He sat down at his desk, fidgeting with his hands. “I forgot you’re a year older than me.”

There was a few moments of silence where you were just…staring at him. He resisted cowering under your gaze because it really did look like you were just zoning out.

Unbeknownst to him, you had to force yourself to close your mouth at the sight. You had an elevated view of him just sitting there. But it was the way he sat with legs spread far apart, with a devilish grin, leaning back—how could you focus?

“I can’t believe you forgot,” you continued as if it that didn’t just happen. “I never used to let you live it down. I never would have, if I hadn’t left.”

He shook his head. He never wanted to imagine what could have happened if you stayed.

“What else would have happened?” He began. “If you stayed, I mean.”

“We probably would have gone to high school together,” you said nonchalantly. “A friend group, maybe? How was your high school experience?”

“Not…great.”

“Me too, actually. It would’ve been better if you were there.”

“Let’s change the subject,” he nervously laughed. “How’s pre-law?”

In the middle of your conversation, at almost midnight, Ethan’s phone pinged with a text from his roommate.

Chad

hey bro not gonna be home tonight im staying at taras

That’s when he got the idea.

“What?” You blurted. He looked at you, confused.

“What do you mean, what?”

“You’ve got that look.”

“What look?”

“Like you just realized something.”

He stared up at you, amazed that you could read him so easily even after the time apart.

“Do you wanna stay over?” He asked before the courage ran out. “I have some clothes you can wear, and I’ll sleep in my roommate’s room since he’s not coming home tonight.”

Thankfully, you agreed.

SATURDAY

You woke up with twenty messages from your friend asking where you were. You frantically responded saying you were fine, along with your friend cancelling plans. You went to get Ethan to wake him up.

Much to your surprise, he was already in the tiny kitchen, preparing breakfast.

“Since when do you wake up this early?” You took the mug of coffee he handed you. Even if he never knew how you liked it, it was still somehow perfect.

“Just for my special guest,” he teased. “After all, can’t have my lawyer starve to death.”

You laughed as handed you a plate and got one for him, too.

“Are you busy this weekend?” You asked.

Ethan stopped his actions for a moment, and you were sure he looked confused.

“Uh…no. Why?”

“Wanna take me sightseeing around the city? I’ve never been to New York before.”

His head tilted like a puppy, and those doe eyes certainly weren’t helping.

“What about your friend? The one you’re visiting?”

“He cancelled,” you shrugged. “We’ve been hanging out the past few days, anyway.”

The sweet boy, your Ethan, smiled and said he would take you. After you both finished breakfast, you went back to your hotel room to shower and change.

Being with Ethan again re-energized you. You didn’t know what it was about him, maybe it was how you imagined a future with him when you were kids until you were so rudely ripped from each other’s lives too soon, or how he grew up to be a good guy like you always thought.

Spending the day with him, he said he’d take you to his favourite places He called himself your tour guide.

“Oh, yeah?” You bantered, walking side by side on the street. Though the city was loud, the bubble in which you entered while with Ethan was quiet. “Are you gonna take me to all the tourist spots?”

“No,” there it was again. That devilish grin. Not devilish, not really. You were sure he didn’t mean it to be so mischievous but his half-lidded eyes made you think otherwise. “You’re getting the Ethan Special.”

“And what might that be?”

“Places that aren’t this crowded.” He shrugged. “One might even call them…underground.”

“You’re dumb,” you laughed as you reached the subway station. “Where’s the first stop?”

“You’ll find out.”

It was a tiny, locally-owned bookshop in Brooklyn. When you walked in, the old man at the counter personally greeted Ethan with a grin.

“I remember you said you love books,” Ethan mentioned sheepishly, trailing you as you gawked in awe of the shelves. “The guy who owns this place is a family friend of ours, so we got a discount. I’ll pay for whatever you want.”

Your head snapped to his direction. “No way, E. Nope.”

“What—why?”

“Books are expensive. I have my own money, anyway.”

“Come on, Y/N. Just let me pay once. My dad’s covering college costs so I’ve been saving.”

“You’re so spoiled,” you smirked. “Fine. But once. And I’ll only get one book, I don’t wanna hurt your bank account.”

“You’re so lame, dude.”

You playfully shoved him. God, the proximity between you two was intoxicating—the place was small.

He convinced to get you three books once he saw you eyeing certain ones. You reluctantly agreed, but with the promise of paying for lunch.

You kept your promise, paying for him at his favourite Indian restaurant.

Despite his insistence not to take you to touristy spots, he said he couldn’t let you leave until he took you to the Brooklyn Bridge.

Though it was crowded, it was perfect because Ethan was with you the entire time.

The way he was taking care of you, watching out for you at every moment, wasn’t lost on you at all. It warmed your heart. But you began to dread tomorrow, when you had to leave.

Ethan’s curls blew in the wind. The sun kissed his skin like it was made for him, and your heart hammered against your ribs while you stared at his side profile looking to the expanse of the river. He was beautiful. Your legs were numb but you never wanted to leave.

“Shit,” his swear caught you off guard. “I forgot I told Chad I would do the grocery shopping this week.”

“Did you tell him where you are?”

“No, he probably thinks I’m getting groceries right now.”

You smiled. “Then let’s get groceries.”

“But—but what about your trip?”

“What about it? Let’s go!” You ran ahead of him, and he chased after you.

You and Ethan went back to his dorm to drop off the books and get his car. There was something surreal about seeing him so grown-up. As kids, you never clearly envisioned becoming an adult except that you wanted Ethan in it. Sitting in the passenger seat, the domesticity of your actions made you realize how much of a disservice moving away was for your younger self. You were robbed of seeing Ethan grow up with you, somehow.

Getting groceries with Ethan was more fun than you expected. He made it fun, cracking jokes and even offering to buy you snacks.

After you’d both unloaded the groceries, Ethan asked, “What now?”

The fatigue had caught up to you rather quickly. You suggested a movie, he agreed. It was supposed to be simple.

Somehow, some way, you ended up in his arms as the sun went down. By then he had already relaxed himself against the couch and fell asleep.

You felt a buzz from your jacket pocket, a text from your friend coming through; one who knew about your spending the day with Ethan.

how was it?

i think i fell in love with him

SUNDAY

Ethan was up all night tossing, turning, and thinking. Spending a whole day with you right next to him was all he’d ever wanted in life. Forget his other dreams, he needed you. Nothing trumped how he felt being with you.

He sent you a text first thing in the morning.

when’s ur flight?

You responded a few minutes later:

at three.

doing anything today?

not really

can I take you somewhere? i’ll pick u up

You weren’t sure what he had in mind, but you agreed regardless.

Turns out, it was the Morgan Library and Museum. You marvelled as you entered, and Ethan, unbeknownst to you, admired your beauty while you turned your head up to the high ceilings.

You were to leave today. He had to tell you what was on his mind at some point before that or else he was positive he would go crazy.

In a small, particularly secluded and quiet corner in the building, he stopped walking. It took you a few seconds to realize, but when you did a few feet ahead of him, you strode back in bewilderment.

“What are you doing standing here, come on.”

“I…” he sighed. “I have to tell you something.”

Your face visibly dropped along with his heart.

“What is it?”

“I think I have f—”

You immediately held your hand up, “Don’t say it.” You whispered, glancing around as if there were people around to hear.

Ethan’s face felt hot. “Why?” You couldn’t have possibly known what he was going to say, could you? Or maybe you just read his mind so easily. “You don’t know what I’m gonna say.”

“Please, Ethan.” You knew that look. Subconsciously, your mind permanently burned his face the day you told him you were leaving. This time, though, he stood more confident, taller, more sure of himself. And you didn’t want to go down this path. You begged him not to say it.

“Let me say it,” he pleaded as you did. “I want you in my life. Forever. Preferably as—like, maybe, more than friends. Or not. Whatever you want. I can take you on dates, we’ll call every night, and I’ll visit—”

You covered his mouth with your hand, effectively cutting him off. He saw the sheen in your eyes.

“Don’t,” you whispered.

His heart shattered like you had taken a hammer to a glass wall.

Once you were sure he got the message, you took off your hand.

“We can be friends, Ethan.” You blinked back tears. “But not more than that.”

“That’s—I’m good with that.”

“You don’t understand,” you shook your head.

“I think I do.”

“You don’t.” You snapped. “Because I want to be with you, too.”

A flicker of hope in his chest extinguished in the next second.

“Then let’s be together.”

“We can’t,” you insisted. “I don’t do distance, E. And I want to this—us—right.”

You stared into each other’s eyes, both begging for opposite things in silence.

Ethan was thinking, you could tell. He clenched his jaw.

His mind looped only one scenario at this moment. One where you stayed. He let himself think about what would happen if you hadn’t left, just this once, he let himself indulge in the fantasy, and asked:

“If you stayed,” he took a deep breath, pulling you closer with a caress of your jaw. “Could…could you have fallen in love with me?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, unable to look him in the eyes. He pulled up your chin in retaliation. “I would have.”

“What about now?”

“You don’t want me to answer that.” I already have, you thought.

That was when it hit him.

You were his first love. That’s why he hated the thought of someone else getting to love you the same way he always wanted to.

His heart tied itself to yours across that balcony, years and years ago, without warning. He was meant to find you, and he knew that you would both find each other time and time again, against all odds.

“Bet you wish you made that time machine now, hm?” You joked, lightening the mood after a beat.

To his surprise, he laughed. With his heart still in pieces in your hands. Without his knowledge, you had left your future in Jersey.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Do you think it’s too late?”

“It is,” you put your arms around him, resting your head on his shoulder and reveling in his warmth. “But you know what?”

“What?”

“You don’t need it. Because we’ll be friends. Stay in each other’s lives, no matter what. Then, when the time is right…”

“We’ll find each other again.”

[doyouknowbtsswag]

Do You Remember? |Chishiya|

Part 2

I wanted to cry holding my side that was currently bleeding. I tore part of my shirt and wrapped it around trying to stop the bleeding. I looked around for Chishiya wanting to be with him as the world fell apart. I spotted him propped against a car. He was looking up at the sky unbothered by anything around him.

"Chishiya?" I called out which made him lazily look over.

"( Y/n)?" I heard him say his eyes widened.

"I'm so glad your okay" I teared up slowly making my way to sit next to him. I winced trying to sit down. He slowly guided me down to help me sit to prevent more pain as I held my side. "I thought you died"

"You should know I don't give up that easily." He smiled lazily before stopping looking at my side.

"Nasty isn't it" I chuckled in pain.

"Your gonna bleed out," He said panicking wincing himself as he moved.

"Hey hey" I stopped him from trying to push on my wound to stop the bleeding.

"Stop," He said as he fought back my hand.

"You're hurting yourself," I said finally getting his hands fully off of me holding them tightly. "You're injured too"

"I don't care your more important to me" He placed his forehead on mine. "I can't lose you and let you die"

"I'm always going to be by your side " I rubbed his hand.

"I wish we met before all this so we'd have more time together"

I felt tears streaming down my cheeks making Chishiya pull our faces away.

"Don't cry sweetheart" He said cupping my cheek with one hand and keeping one on my hand but I could see him holding back tears himself.

"I can't help it"

"We'll get out of this" He wiped my tears from my face. "And see each other again"

"Thank you" I whispered.

He smiled lightly and put his lips on mine. I kissed him back and I could tell this wasn't going to stop anytime soon. Our emotions were displayed all at once. It captured love, passion, and a hint of sadness knowing this could be the last. I laid my head on his shoulder and intertwined my fingers with his. The sky blue contrasted to the depressing ground. Chishiya ran his hand through my hair as we sat in silence. The silence was cut short as fireworks spewed out of the dark sky.

"All surviving players will be presented with two choices Players must now all decide whether to accept permanent residency in this country or decline it."

I smiled and squeezed his hand.

"I decline"

"I decline"

"You better not forget me" I joked.

"How could I ever forget you?"

"I love you" I kissed his cheek.

"I love you too."Not too long after I said that my sight was blurry until the world turned dark.

I woke up confused with a major headache. I looked around and saw curtains and white walls. I heard a beeping sound and looked next to me. I was hooked up to a monitor that showed a steady flow. I was indeed in the hospital. The last thing I remembered was walking to the mall holding a Starbucks cup I couldn't even think of how I ended up here, I wasn't near the road so I couldn't have been ran over. I pressed the red button next to me to alert the nurse I was up. A few minutes later a nurse came in and asked how I was feeling and explained what happened. She told me I could walk freely as long as I took my IV with me. If I felt dizzy or tired sit down immediately.

"Thank you" I smiled.

"Just make sure your back in your bed by 8 okay?" She said.

"I will"

"Oh! Your friends dropped off clothes for you"

"Really?" I asked happy I wouldn't be in a hospital gown.

"Would you like to change into them?"

"Yes please" I nodded.

"Your friends mentioned your parents aren't in town so they dropped them off"

"I'll have to thank them later"

"Do you think you'll need help?" She asked.

"I should be fine"

"I'll be behind the curtain so if you need help let me know"

Thank you" I smiled taking the IV out as she closed the curtain behind her.

I looked at the clothes and started changing but stopped looking at my patched-up side. I sighed and continued changing wincing a few times. I opened the curtain and let the nurse in. She walked over to grab another IV for me to take around. She rolled up one of the sleeves.

"1 2 3," She said and injected the IV in my arm.

"Remember what I said before. I'll see you at 8"

"I hope the food is decent it seems like I'll be here for a while" I sighed as the nurse left.

I got up and started walking observing how many people were around me. I slowly opened the door wincing slightly. I walked down the hallway and saw vending machines. I didn't have any money because my purse was apparently burned to death. I frowned but walked to the front desk shamefully asking for a dollar. I explained why and they gave me one as I kept thanking them till they smiled. I walked to the machines and got my favorite drink. I opened the can and made my way to their garden. As I did so I walked past a blonde who also had an IV. I felt like I'd seen him before, I looked back and saw that he was gone.

"It doesn't feel as stuffy anymore" I sighed in relief sitting on a bench that was in the garden. "I feel like I've met him but It's not possible maybe he was one of my friends' ex's?."

I took another sip from my drink and watched little kids run around freely making me smile softly. "Nothing makes sense anymore." There were so many people I walked by that seemed familiar but the blonde stood out the most. I put my head in my hands annoyed.

"Can I sit here?" I heard a voice say a familiar one.

I looked up and saw the blonde who was also carrying a IV around.

"Uh sure," I said maybe this could help jog my memory.

He just sat looking ahead as I gazed at him from the side trying to put pieces together. I looked at him up and down before noticing the outline of gauze wrapped around his side. He looked over and saw me staring which made me quickly look away. He gave a sly smirk I've definitely seen before.

"So what are you in here for?" He asked.

"The meteor accident and you?"

"Same thing, did your heart happen to stop beating?"

"Yeah I assume yours too"

"Yeah someone else next to me had the same problem"

"You really unbothered by this situation" I chuckled. "Especially since you could've died."

"You should know I don't give up that easily." He said which made my head pound.

I closed my eyes holding my head seeing debris and an abandoned-looking road. I opened my eyes my headache started to go away he looked confused but held out my drink for me.

"Are you okay?" He asked as I took the drunk from his hand which gave me butterflies.

"Yeah sorry the nurse did say I would get headaches" I reassured him but I was confused about what I saw.

"Just making sure"

"Thanks" I smiled. "This is going to sound really weird but have we met before?"

"I don't remember," He said looking ahead unbothered.

"You just seemed familiar that's all" I cringed on the inside.

"Well I'm going to go get something to eat," He said standing up and stretching. "Maybe I'll see you around"

"Bye," I waved smiling. I watched him walk away into the building.

I decided to go back to my room and lay down my head still hurting from whatever just happened. I got up and grabbed the can of soda to throw out. I walked to my room the hallways almost empty because of the time of day. Once I made it to my room I laid down looking at the ceiling. Maybe if I close my eyes and focus I could figure it out. Now thinking about it I forgot to ask him for his name. I put my blankets over myself and got comfortable. My eyes got heavy and I fell asleep into a dream land.

I walked along the cracked road kicking rocks every once in and while. I heard a chuckle next to me. I looked over and saw the blonde next to me. He wrapped his arm around my waist as we walked closer to a game. Once we made it he let go and grabbed a collar handing me one. I nervously put it on scared of what the game would be.

"No matter what stay by my side" He whispered looking at the other players.

"What if it's a Heart game?"

"Then I guess you'll win" He shrugged unbothered. "I don't think it is though"

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

"The atmosphere, the cells" He pointed out. "I highly doubt it is"

"I'll take your word for it"

—

"Well what are we gonna do"

"I have a plan," He said putting his hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry sweetheart"

"Chishiya everything is set to go"

I jumped awake my head pounding out of control making me feel sick. I aggressively hit the red button for the nurse to come in. I waited and waited and waited. I pressed the button again and finally, a nurse came in.

"Is everything okay?" She asked.

"Can I have Ibuprofen or something like that? My head is pounding"

"Of course! Let me go get you some"

I was dazed and confused knowing that it felt too real to be a dream. The places I was at and the interactions felt weird. All the people I saw with bathing suits on including me and him. The nurse popped back in and handed me water and pills. I took the medicine and set the cup next to me.

"Would you like something to eat? You haven't eaten dinner you fell asleep early"

"I'm not really hungry Thanks for the offer" I smiled

"Alright well get a good night's sleep," She said and walked away.

I tossed and turned all night till the sun woke up. Every time I closed my eyes new faces popped up more memories of me and Chishiya. I enjoyed some of them but others freaked me out. The sun hit my face and I was awoken by the nurse who changed out my IV.

"Your taking a little bit to heal fully but this should be the last day," She said and we both went on our separate ways.

I didn't feel as weak which was a good thing. It was a lot easier to walk around and I barely felt any pain. I walked to the cafeteria starving from not eating. On my way there I saw the people in my short clips of when I closed my eyes for a few minutes and closed them. Once I got my food I sat in a random booth. How would I tell Chishiya what actually happened? How did I suddenly know his name? How do you even explain you played in games so you didn't die? How we literally dated? What would he say? I placed my head on the table defeated.

"You don't have many friends do you?" I looked up nervously.

"I have no- no you have no idea what you're talking about," I said stumbling over my words.

"So why were you sitting alone?" He teased.

"Because I wanted to," I said avoiding eye contact.

"You're acting weird. I'm a doctor but even if I wasn't anyone could tell.

I closed my eyes and put my head on the table again to avoid him from seeing my face.

"Shuntaro Chishiya" I whispered.

"What?"

"Your name is Shuntaro Chishiya," I said looking up trying to keep a straight face.

"How did you-"

"So I am the only one who remembered" I chuckled lightly thinking back to when he said he wouldn't forget me. "You lied to me

"What do you mean by that?" He asked confused.

"It's nothing," I said faking a smile. "So do you even have any recollection of what happened?"

"What happened in borderland?"

[kaleldobrev]

Pizza, Beer & Zeppelin IV

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Gn!Reader

Summary: Dean is surprised to find out what your ideal first date is; and he’s more than happy to oblige

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: Some cursing, Talks of Sex (Not explicit in the slightest) 

Authors Note: This is inspired by a quote Jo Harvelle said to Dean in Everybody Loves a Clown from Season 2: “Most hunters come through that door think they can get in my pants with some pizza, a six pack, and side one of Zeppelin IV.” | The writing of this is in a little bit of a different style than some of my previous work. But I hope it came out okay! Let me know what you all think | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

Although you and Dean have been together for the last couple of years, the two of you never had a proper first date. The way the two of you first started dating started out as a traditional friends with benefits story, but without the “starting out as a friends” part.

The two of you had met at a local bar in Lebanon, your date was over an hour late, already drowning your sorrows with shot after shot of tequila. That night, you were ready to make some bad decisions to make yourself feel better.

That is when you eyed Dean Campbell and quickly started chatting him up. He was on his third beer; not nearly as intoxicated as you were, but was humoring you as you gave him cheesy pick-up lines and telling him horror stories about your job. A couple hours later, the two of you made your way in the back of his car, hungerly kissing each other all over, leading to uncomfortable yet satisfying car sex. You never did reach out to your date to reschedule.

A week later, you had spotted him at the bar again, you weren’t as drunk as you previously had been your first meeting. He remembered you, and you were surprised. He asked you if he had left any bruises on you from the week before, and asked if you had anymore horror stories about your job. “I’ll tell you more if you tell me some.” You said.

He chuckled before taking a sip of beer. “You don’t wanna know my stories Sweetheart.” He replied.

That night you slept with him again; this time at your place and not in the backseat of his impala. The next morning the two of you exchanged numbers. “Last name’s really Winchester.” He told you.

“What?” You asked.

“My last name. It’s Winchester, not Campbell.” He said.

“Winchester sounds more fitting.” You gave him a smile.

After exchanging numbers, the two of you never met up at the bar again; always meeting up at your place. You called him, or he called you; sometimes he would just show up at your door with a six pack and some take-out. The sex was great every single time; but it changed as time went on. What had started out as needy, rough, and quick, became slow, gentle, almost loving; not that you minded.

Sometimes when he would come over, the two of you wouldn’t even have sex. You would just hang out on the couch, share a kiss or two, and cuddle. You had even caught him a few times falling asleep as you scratched the back of his head as he rested his head on your shoulder. You liked that he felt comfortable enough to sleep.

The two of you never made anything official, but between the consistency of the sex the two of you would have, mixed with doing “couple things” like him offering to run errands with you, or hanging out at your place to watch a movie, it started to form into something more than just a friends with benefits situation; it started to become a committed relationship.

Slowly, over time, Dean began to open up to you. Open up about all the things he’s done over the years and who he really was. He had told you what his real job was – he was a hunter, someone that killed things people didn’t think were real but actually were. Like vampires, werewolves, ghosts, and ghouls. “I’ve killed them all,” he told you. He told you how he saved the world more than once, how he’s been to Hell and back (literally and figuratively), how he’s gone to Heaven, and even spent a year in Purgatory. “Did you know I killed Hitler once?” His proudest achievement. He’s done things you would have never thought about doing in your dizziest daydreams.

When Dean first told you these things, he expected you to run. Expected you to call the police or call him insane. You weren’t a hunter; he didn’t expect you to believe him. But to his surprise you said, “I believe you” and kissed him. That was your way of telling him that you loved him.

After years of being together the two of you never had a proper first date, but that was something Dean had wanted to for you. Taking out his phone he scrolled until he got to your name and pressed enter. The ringing felt like it had been going on for ages, he always felt nervous talking to you. “Hello my love.” You responded. His lips curved into a smile. He loved when you called him that.

“Hey there Sweetheart. I gotta question for you.” He said, leaning back a bit in his chair.

“Shoot.” You responded.

“I was wondering, would you like to go on a proper first date with me?” He felt like a stupid high schooler asking out his crush.

“A proper first date uh?” You never thought you’d see the day. “What are we going to do on this date?”

“I was hoping you’d tell me. I want you to pick.” He had a million ideas but thought that it would be more special if you picked what the two of you did.

“You’re the one asking me out but I’m the one that has to come up with the date idea? Hmm, I don’t know about that.” You said, hoping your joking tone came through.

“What’s your ideal first date Sweetheart? We can do anything you want.”

“You’re gonna laugh at me.” Your idea of a first date was something no one ever wanted to do.

“Y/N, I’d never laugh at you. Well, I would, and I have. But, not about something as serious as this.” You could hear his smile through the phone. He really was serious about this.

You took a deep breath. “Well. I know this might sound stupid but…I’ve always wanted to eat some pizza with a six pack while listening to side one of Zeppelin four.” Fuck you’re perfect, Dean thought. You waited for Dean to say something, anything, but he didn’t respond. You took his silence for judgement, but in reality, he was just amazed, amazed that this was your ideal first date. “See, I told you it’s stupid.”

“No, no. It’s not stupid at all. It’s…perfect actually. That’s my ideal first date too.” Dean said, being completely serious. He hoped that you didn’t think he was fucking with you. But knowing you, you probably would.

“You’re fucking with me aren’t you?” You respond.

“No Y/N, I swear. You can even ask Sam.” He paused a moment. “I’d, I’d love to do that with you. You and me can take Baby to the park that’s about five minutes away from your house. Sit on the trunk with a cold six pack and large extra cheese pizza between us. The windows rolled down with Zeppelin coming out the speakers.”

“That sounds perfect.” You said. It was a simple sound date, but it was something you’ve always strangely wanted to do; not really fully knowing why, even before you had met Dean. Your previous suitors never wanted to do this date idea, saying that it was too boring, or telling you that Zeppelin was overrated.

“How’s tonight at eight sound?” He asked.

“Eight can’t come soon enough.” You said. This was going to be a long seven hours. You thought.

[alaydabug2]

Tag list: @sparklenarniawizard @imobsessed123 @thoughtlescat @ilikebookssomuch

Broken heart/Broken mind

Chapter Fifty-nine

(Human AU)

Sophie and Keefe met in the children's hospital when they were little. Because of how long they were confined to the four walls of the hospital, they became very close during their stay.

As the years pass, they wind up being in the same classroom together due to their physical conditions. This makes their bond deepen.

But are they able to handle when life gets tough, throwing problems and complications their way?

When Sophie finally checked her notifications from the day when she sat down in the car, she choked on her water she was drinking.

It was a text message from Ro saying, 'Hey. Keefe's finally awake.'

When she made sure she didn't drown herself on her water bottle, she started the car. She ignored the speed limit and just hoped she wouldn't get pulled over.

For once in her life, her wish worked out.

By the time she got to cardiology, she was panting out of breath from running all the way there. Still, she paused when she got to the door.

She pushed through her nerves and opened the door. She sucked in a breath.

Ro looked up at her and gave a wry smile. She glanced back down to Keefe. His eyes were open now, staring blank at the wall.

Sophie sat down beside the bed and took his hand.

"Hey Keefe," she whispered. "How do you feel?"

He never looked away from the spot on the wall. She glanced nervously at Ro.

"He's alright," She assured her. "He's just... not really himself, right now."

Oh, Sophie could imagine. But that didn't explain why he wasn't acknowledging anything around him.

She brushed his hair back from his forehead. That seemed to get his attention. His eyes lazily found hers. He stared at her for a moment before closing his eyes.

After a few seconds, he let out a groan and rolled toward Sophie on his side. Ro leaned forward and rubbed his back.

"The nurse should be back soon," she told him. "He'll have you some pain meds."

"Has he said anything since waking up," Sophie asked.

"A little," Ro told her. "He asked where he was and what happened. Repeated my name a few times. Other than that, he's been silent."

The door opened, and Elwin came through the door, wheeling in a sonogram machine. He went to the IV pole and placed a new bag on it. While he was getting set up, Keefe seemed to calm down and roll back onto his back.

Sophie moved out of the way and joined Ro on the other side of the bed. Elwin helped Keefe pull down his hospital gown for the Echo.

Elwin took the doppler and squeezed the gel on it before taking it to Keefe's chest. Sophie looked at the monitor when an image popped up on the screen.

The heartbeat sounded strange. She couldn't quite point out what it was about it, but she was afraid of the implications of it.

"Is his heart supposed to sound like that?" She finally had to ask.

"Oh, that's just a murmur," Elwin informed. "It's when blood tries to go back out when a valve closes. It's usually harmless." He turned to Ro. "I'm going to assume that he's had that for a while."

"He has," she confirmed.

After a few more minutes, Ro shifted and turned to Sophie. She glanced out the door. Sophie took the hint and followed her outside.

"Ok," Ro sighed. "Don't tell Keefe this yet, but I need to talk to you about something."

"Ok," she said slowly. "What is it?"

Ro leaned against the door. "Well... they already did a catheter when he first got here to temporarily help with his blood flow, but... it's not going to be a permanent solution. His artery is really weak, and it was collapsing in on itself, causing the blockage. They're going to have to do a bypass on him."

It took her a minute to realize what that meant. "They're... going to have surgery on him?"

She nodded. "They want to also try and replace his valve while he's opened up so he doesn't need another one just for that in like, two years. But... I know he's probably not going to take it very well. I just figured I should let you know what's going on. "

"Thank you," Sophie told her. "I'll keep quiet. Do you know when they're planning it for?"

"They're shooting for the end of this week. Probably this Thursday or Friday. They're trying to get it done quickly so the artery doesn't have a chance to close itself off again. The stint will only be able to do so much."

She nodded. "Tell me when, please. I want to be there."

"Of course." Ro wrapped an arm around Sophie and gave her a squeeze. She glanced toward the door. "We should probably head back inside."

Sophie nodded her agreement.

[xmasterofmunsonx]

Got Your Number

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

Pairing: harrington!reader x Eddie Munson

Author’s notes: yooooo thank you for sticking it out with me. I’ve been very sick for the last few weeks and have had no energy to do anything except exist so here’s a nice little chapter for you all!!!!

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI!!), language, drinking, weed, mentions of past abusive relationship, mention of body image issues, SMUT, fluff and lmk if I ever leave anything out!!

Word count: 7K+

IV.

Friday morning came too soon for your liking. Eddie was at work at the music store and your mom had begged you again to come help decorate. Charlie’s mom was busy on the other end of the banquet room as you were making the flower arrangements for the centerpieces.

“Need help?” Steve’s voice caught you off guard.

“No, just keep her away from me.” You motioned with your head towards your ex-future mother in law. “She’s been glaring at me since I got here.”

“Might have a bigger problem than her here soon. He’s here early.” Your stomach sank as Steve told you what you were dreading the most.

You heard a heavy door open and shut, and in walked Charlie… and Grace. Perfect. Maybe they could occupy each other. “I’m not leaving your side.” Steve assured you as he fiddled with some random flowers nervously.

“Fuck them.” You muttered underneath your breath. You looked up and checked out Charlie- he looked better than the last time you’d seen him. Of course, the last time you’d seen him he was shit faced drunk, high off cocaine, and at his lowest, so anything would look better than that. His jeans seemed to fit him better and- you shook your head, what the fuck were you doing staring at him?

“You okay?” Steve seemed to notice your staring as he nudged you with his shoulder.

“Yeah, fine. Just… weird.”

“I get it. First time I saw Nancy with Jonathan after was… uncomfortable.” You felt embarrassed for looking at him, someone who’d been so wrong to you in every way possible when you had someone so much better now. “Eddie said he’s coming by at 3, just so you know.”

You looked at the clock and it was almost lunch time.

“I’m gonna head out and grab lunch, you wanna come with me?” You brushed the leaf clippings that were sticking to your sweaty palms against your jeans and put the scissors down on the table.

“Nah, I’ll stick around here if you’ll bring me something back.” Steve handed you some cash and you took it and left.

Surprising Eddie at work had not been on your list of things to do since Steve had told you he was coming around 3, but it sounded much better than lunch by yourself and you wanted to waste as much time out as possible.

“Hey baby!” Eddie said, dropping the pile of records he was holding carefully onto the table beside him. “What are you doing here?”

“Hmmm, didn’t know if you could take a lunch with me. I’m all tuckered out from making floral arrangements for the high society members of Hawkins.” You joked as wrapped your arms around him and pecked him on the lips, not caring about the few customers in the shop.

“You do smell like flowers.” He took a big whiff of your hair as he kissed your head and hugged you back.

“And you smell like Eddie.” You nuzzled into his chest, breathing in his scent of weed, cigarettes, and just… him.

“Is that good or bad?” He asked you, smiling as he looked down.

“It’s good. Really good.” You watched as his smile widened and reached the crinkles in his eyes.

“Let me go tell Jeff I’m taking lunch for once, the van is out back. I’ll drive us.” You gave him a thumbs up and exited the store, immediately finding his car. “So what’s up?” He asked as he hopped into the drivers seat, “why are you really here? Couldn’t resist my looks, missed me so much?” He winked as he backed out of the parking spot.

“I mean all of that, but I also just wanted to get out of that banquet hall. Charlie and Grace showed up. I know their moms are all on the committee with my mom too, so I left Steve there, and I wanted to waste as much time as I could.”

Eddie gasped and clutched his chest, “Just waste some time with me?!”

“No, that’s not what I-”

“Baby, I know you didn’t mean that.” Your stomach flipped at the nickname again. “I’m sorry he’s there. Did he speak to you? Do I need to go… what did Grace say? Snap his bones?”

“Remember, we’re supposed to be the well behaved ones.” You eyed him and watched his grip tighten on the wheel. “But no, as soon as they got there I left. It should be easier to avoid them tonight with more people there, and we can leave early too.”

Eddie nodded quietly to himself as his music played in the background. The song ended and he turned it down before he started to talk, “I just can’t believe that piece of shit could treat you so bad and have the fucking nerve to come to this stupid ass benefit, sorry, all the way from goddamn Chicago? After you got the cops involved there? As if that meant nothing. He’s just gonna prance around Hawkins untouched. I really hope he doesn’t cross me because I don’t know that I can trust myself.”

“Then you can’t come tonight, Eddie.” You said, putting your hand on his knee. He looked down at it, then back at the road.

“So you really don’t want to be seen with me, do you?”

“No, I-“

“No. I’ll stay home. You go have fun with all your friends.” You two pulled up at the restaurant to eat lunch, but you both sat there not moving, noticing the tense air between you two at Eddie’s quick mood change. “All your stupid old rich little high school friends you ‘hated.’ Dating me is probably part of a-”

You interrupted him, “Eddie Munson. Shut up. I want to be seen with you. I want you to go with me- you just cannot get into a fight at this dumb benefit, okay? That’s all I’m asking. No matter who’s there.”

“Sorry.” He looked like a hurt puppy apologizing to you. “I’m just nervous about tonight.”

“Steve and I set up the seating chart for the tables. It’s you, me, Robin, him, Hopper, Joyce, Nancy and Jonathan at ours. We’re gonna be fine. They’re on the opposite side of the hall and Hopper is seated to where he can keep his eyes on him at all times, okay?”

Eddie swallowed and nodded, “Can you stay with me the rest of the day? I don’t want you going back there without me.”

“I told Steve that I’d bring him lunch. We can do that together and then I’ll tell them I have to go home?” Your mom had to understand the seriousness of the situation.

Lunch went by quick, you ended up getting Eddie to lighten up and crack a few jokes eventually, and then you boxed up some pizza to take back to Steve. You both walked into the banquet hall together, Eddie clutching your hand as soon as you saw Charlie’s car was still there.

“Hey, here’s your pizza. Where’s mom?” You asked after quickly finding your brother.

“Hallway.” He said through a bite of pizza. Eddie stayed back to talk to Steve, spotting Charlie busy in the corner helping his mom and Grace with something.

“Hey mom. I’m really not comfortable being here with so few people and Charlie. Is it okay if I go home? I brought some leftover pizza if you need some food, Steve’s got it.”

You could see the judgement in her eyes over your lunch choice and she just smiled, “That’s fine. You’ve done enough. The flower arrangements look beautiful.” You smiled sweetly at her, then made your way back to the big room. You picked up your pace at the sound of yelling voices- all three you recognized. Except it was Eddie yelling your brother’s name.

Steve was on top of Charlie and Eddie was pulling him off as you walked in the door. Grace stood in horror as Charlie’s mom rushed up behind them.

“Maybe if your son would keep his mouth shut he wouldn’t get a broken nose!” Steve yelled as Eddie backed him away from Charlie who was clutching his bloody face.

“Maybe if your sister wasn’t the town whore with the freak then-”

“Town whore, Charlie? You sure that’s not Grace that you’re with?” You went to go lunge at Charlie, but felt two hands pulling you back. It was both your brother and Eddie. “What, he gets to punch him, but I can’t? He sure used to punch me.”

Charlie’s mom gasped behind him, “Don’t you dare spread lies about my son!”

“Lies? I’m so sorry. What verbiage would you prefer I use for how he hit me in Chicago? Would you like the copy of the police reports, or the pictures I had to take? Which ones would suit you better, because I can get both of them easily for you.” By now your mom had made it into the hall and was standing with her arms crossed.

“What did I-”

“It was him!” All 3 of you pointed to Charlie and backed away. Charlie’s mom and your mom stood speechless staring at one another as if they were waiting for the other to speak up.

“He called her-” Steve started but Eddie interrupted him.

“He doesn’t need to be here, or be around her. He’s not safe, and it’s not fair that he’s here.” Eddie stood firm, stepping in front of you and standing up to your mom.

“Not safe?” Charlie spoke up through his bloodied mouth and nose, “You’re one to talk, you fucking murderer.”

You watched in slow motion as Eddie lunged at Charlie, you saw Steve try to pull him back but Eddie pushed him away. Eddie grabbed Charlie by the collar of his shirt and spit in his face.

“You’re really original for that one, man. What else you gonna call me? The freak? Get the fuck out of here and take your girl with you.” He shoved him backwards with force and you watched as Charlie stumbled away, with Grace and his mom by his side.

Eddie huffed as he walked the opposite way to the doors leading to outside and you followed him, hearing Steve and your mom arguing already.

“Hey, you didn’t have to do all that.”

“What, defend you? Yes, I did.”

“You could’ve gotten in a lot of trouble.”

“I want you to put a restraining order against him here in Hawkins so he can’t come near you.” Eddie lit a cigarette and took a huge hit off of it. “Hopper will take care of it. I don’t know how you put up with his bullshit for so long.”

“Me neither but I didn’t really have a choice, Eddie.” You kicked at a rock, watching it skip down the walkway.

“Uh, yeah you did. You could’ve fucking left.”

“It’s not that easy.” You shook your head at his lack of understanding.

“Sure was easy for you to leave me behind. And then leave town to go to Chicago.” He had you there. You had abandoned him once, and completely skipped town without missing a beat once you graduated high school. You watched as he continued to smoke his cigarette down to the filter, stubbing it out against the brick wall.

“Take me home.” You said, crossing your arms.

“No way am I letting you out of my sight.” He shook his head at you, his curls loosely flying awry.

“Eddie Munson, I want to go home. I’m not going tonight.”

“No, you’re coming with me and we’ll get ready at my house. Your dress is there.”

“I’m not going. I’ll go get Steve to take me home, then.” You were fuming as you turned on your feet and marched back into the building. Eddie had no idea what you’d been through- despite you telling him everything you could already, he clearly still had no idea how scary Charlie could be and why you couldn’t “just leave” him. You didn’t want to go tonight- Charlie attending or not, you were done with the whole fucking benefit. You were remembering why it was so easy to leave Hawkins in the first place.

Steve and your mom were going at it in the banquet hall- Steve’s hip was cocked to the side and he was running his hand through his hair constantly as he talked with his other hand- it was something you both did when you were deep in a conversation or argument.

“Can you take me home?” You interrupted them, not caring what your mom had to say.

“Gladly, let’s go.” Steve whipped his keys from his pocket as you both stormed out. Eddie tried stopping you on the way to your brother's car.

“Hey, where are you taking her?”

“Home. We’re both going home.” Steve answered for you as you tried to hold back angry tears.

“Oh, so you’re really not going tonight?”

“No man, leave her alone. It’s been a bad enough day as it is, just leave it be.” Steve held his hand up at Eddie’s chest as he tried to get closer to you. You turned and got in the passenger seat, focusing on the seatbelt as Steve rounded the car to get in the driver's seat. You looked up just in time to see Eddie getting in his van and speeding off almost as soon as his door slammed shut.

“Sorry.” You said, unsure of what you were sorry for. But you felt like it was all your fault. Hot tears started streaming down your face, you were quick to wipe them before they could fall any further.

“Nothing to be sorry about. He’s gotta simmer down on his own, and Charlie is a piece of shit. You should probably get a restraining order against him though in Hawkins, that was enough today to warrant one I’d say.”

“Yeah, Eddie said the same thing.” You sniffed, and felt Steve’s hand on your arm.

“He’ll be fine. Eddie’s been through a lot, we all have, and he doesn’t know how to manage his anger sometimes. It’s best if he just keeps to himself. I wouldn’t want him to say anything to you he’d regret later.” You silently nodded and wiped more tears away on the ride home, looking out the window to avoid looking at your brother.

A few hours went by and your mom came home to get ready for the event. She found you laid in your bed, you’d been crying on and off all day waiting for Eddie to at least maybe call, but after the second hour you’d given up on that.

“You don’t look very ready to go tonight.”

“I’m not going.”

“Yes you are.” She stood firm in your doorway, looking the most dressed up you’d seen her in a while.

“No, I’m not. I’m a grown woman who can make my own decisions.”

“Then I’ll have to tell your date who’s waiting on you downstairs that you’re standing him up.” You lifted your head up to get a better look at your mom- she had your dress in her hands and was offering it to you. “He got here a little bit ago with Robin. Jim took care of Charlie, and you have 20 minutes to get yourself together.” You nodded at her and she placed the dress on your bed. You quietly thanked her and as she walked out of the room.

You were quick to wash your face, it was puffy from crying but you were able to fix it up with some cold water, and hide the redness with some makeup.

“Hey Robin! Can you come help me zip my dress?” You poked your head out of your room as you held your dress up on your body and waited. You heard footsteps coming up the stairs and turned around to show your back to her, but the hands that grabbed at your zipper weren’t Robin’s. They were Eddie’s, you could feel the warmth of his rings against your back, and the tremble his hands had as he nervously zipped the back of the dress up on you, pushing a few stray hairs out of the way.

You turned to face him, and he looked at you with sad, puppy dog eyes.

“I’m really sorry for earlier today.” His hands reached out to your shoulders as he ran his thumbs in a calming manner over your soft skin. “I didn't want to-”

“Yeah, Steve told me.” You crossed your arms and brushed his hands away from you, “Let’s go before we’re late.” You tried walking out of your room, but Eddie tugged you back in.

“Heyyy.” He tried smiling at you, and you didn’t have one to return to him. “I mean it. I got extremely jealous of seeing Charlie and I let the worst of me get to me. What he said about you pissed me off. I got really mad and I say stupid shit when I’m really mad sometimes, and didn’t want to say something to you that would hurt you, okay?” You nodded, and he put his thumb on your chin to make you look at him. “I wanna have fun with you tonight, as stupid as this thing is, alright?”

“Thanks for apologizing.” You leaned forward and pecked him on the lips, but that wasn’t enough for him.

Eddie pulled you close to him with his hands on either side of your face, and you wrapped your arms around your neck, pushing your body weight against his and backing him up towards your bedroom door, causing it to slam shut. He flipped you two around so your back was to the door, and he planted his hands beside you, pinning you against it.

“Thought you didn’t wanna be late, baby?” His voice was thick with lust, a slow drawl that you rarely heard coming from his lips. “Steve left with Robin and your parents a few minutes ago anyway, we got the house to ourselves now.” You let out a whimper at the way Eddie was staring you down. “You’re so easy, you know that?”

You blushed as you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “No I’m not.” You faked confidence as you raised an eyebrow at him.

“You practically just whined at me.” His thumb traced the outline of your jaw, “and you’re leaning into my touch. I can feel how badly you want me.” He leaned against you more, forcing his thigh between your legs and you moaned at the friction. You two lunged back at each other hungrily, messily kissing each other and grabbing at each other wherever you could. You caught your hips looking for some more friction and you felt the smirk forming on his face as you could also feel him growing harder in his pants.

“Told you that you were easy. Let’s go before we’re late.” He reached behind you, withdrew his leg, and twisted the door handle to leave your bedroom. “We can finish later tonight, yeah?” He placed a hot kiss below your earlobe, nipping at your neck, and you whined at the loss of contact.

The benefit was as boring as you imagined, but the free wine and beer were enough to keep all of you there for a few hours. Jonathan and Nancy had a stomach bug so they were missing from your table.

Your mom showed you off to some of her friends, and you had to introduce Eddie yourself to them- you knew most of them knew who he was, but you were proud of him and wanted to make sure they knew you two were there together. After you and Robin returned from a bathroom break full of drunk giggles, you sat down in the seat beside Eddie.

“Hi.” You looked at him with a grin.

“Hi, my sweet girl.” He gazed back at you, matching your grin. He wasn’t drinking tonight, but you knew he’d been sneaking out to smoke some by the glaze in his eyes.

“Have I told you how handsome you look tonight?” You smoothed down a flyaway curl away from around his face and he blushed at your comment.

“You have, and you look beautiful tonight, my dear.” He leaned in to peck you on the lips.

“We gotta stay through my parents' speech, then we can leave.” You told him, this was always the part you hated the most because you and Steve always had to go stand on stage with them. When you were younger you used to always get fussed at on the way home for the way you “misbehaved” on stage, but it was always Steve who was the one poking you or pulling your hair making you two get into a cat fight.

You were shocked at how the night had stayed uneventful- Charlie’s mom kept to herself at her table with empty seats around her since her son and Grace were absent, but you didn’t miss the glances she was shooting at you constantly. Anytime she would, you would just scoot a little closer to Eddie and hold his hand, or peck him on the cheek. Sure, you were putting on a little bit of a show, but the wine was partly to blame for that- it turned you into way more of a flirt than you usually were.

You watched as your dad approached your table, motioning for you and Steve to get up to follow him.

“Here we go, former Hawkins Queen.” He said in a sing-song voice and you rolled your eyes.

“After you, King Steve.” You joked back at him as you were both letting the laughter fly between the two of you.

Your mom started the speech off the same, welcoming everyone and thanking them for their generosity to the community especially after having to rebuild the town this year. You glanced around at all of the made up faces and fake smiles and found one of the only genuine ones in the room- Eddie’s. He was beaming at you with his chin resting on his hand, and he waved at you with a wiggle of his fingers- to which you waved right back. Steve elbowed you in the ribs and you dramatically said “Ow!”

“Sh!” Your dad spoke back at the two of you.

You pinched Steve’s arm, to which he hissed back. Neither of you were paying attention to your parents, but it was fun to act like kids again knowing that you were still rebelling against their wishes for your behavior.

“Bar right after this?” Steve leaned into you with his eyebrows raised, and you nodded quickly.

“Sounds like way more fun than being stuck here with all of these boring losers.” You said a little too loud, and your mom turned back to look at you with a scowl on her face. You quietly apologized and looked out to see Eddie, Robin, Joyce and Hopper all holding back laughter- they must’ve heard you over the microphone.

Five minutes later and your mom was done talking, and you and Steve raced down the stage stairs to get back to your table. Your parents were much more pretentious in the way they exited the stage, waving and stopping to talk to folks as they made their way back to their table.

“C’mon, we’re going out.” You grabbed Eddie’s arm and pulled him up out of his seat as you chugged the rest of your wine glass, and Steve and Robin followed you two out. Once the breeze of fresh air hit your face you felt better immediately. You hated the uncomfortable atmosphere of the benefit, and you couldn’t get out of there quick enough. Eddie led you three back to his van where you all piled in and drove to a different dive bar on the edge of Hawkins.

You four stood out like a sore thumb in your attire, despite both boys ditching their ties. Eddie had unbuttoned a few of his buttons on his shirt to reveal his necklaces, and passed his jacket on to you because the night had gotten rather chilly.

“You seem to have a bad habit of forgetting your jackets.” He commented as you sat down at a booth.

“You seem to not have a problem letting me always wear your jackets.” You winked as you tugged it tightly to your body. His heavy hand fell to your thigh where he gave it a squeeze, and let it rest there as the four of you picked up conversation about how boring tonight was.

“I’d rather it be boring than the alternative of what we were anticipating happening.” Steve spoke over his beer glass across the table from you.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Robin had switched to beer too, the sketchy bar not offering any wine. “But how great would it have been for Charlie to have gotten arrested tonight? In front of all of those people.”

“I don’t even want to talk about him. I’m having too much fun.” You fretted, and she apologized for bringing him up.

Eddie quickly changed the subject, “You guys coming to the show tomorrow night?”

Steve and Robin shook their heads, “No, we’re both on closing shift for being off tonight.” Steve answered for both of them and you didn’t miss the way Eddie’s face flashed disappointment before he donned a small smile saying it was okay.

You sat there looking at the three of them interacting, never thinking that you’d be here of all places a few years after graduation, with Eddie’s hand on your leg. You never thought your brother would be best friends with Robin Buckley, or even slightly friends with Eddie Munson- much less how close the two of them were. You wanted to hear more about their stories of the Upside Down, because whatever had happened had bonded them so deeply that even though their conversation was unrelated to it, you felt a little out of place listening in by the way they were all getting along so well.

You sipped your drink and got into your thoughts about tonight and how differently it could’ve gone, how different things would’ve been a year ago. You would’ve maybe been back with Charlie, had to go back to his parents house after where he would pass out from drinking too much, or forced you into doing something you didn’t want to do. And now you were here with your brother, his best friend, and your old best friend who was now your boyfriend. All in the matter of a few weeks. Hawkins was your home after all, and tonight made it feel a little more like normal.

“You good?” You noticed Robin and Steve had gotten up, and left you and Eddie at the booth by yourselves. “You’re being awfully quiet, Harrington.”

“Yeah, just a little bit drunk and thinking a little too much.” Your eyelids batted at Eddie who was endearingly searching your face for any sign of any other thought.

“Whatchya thinkin’ about?” He propped his head on his hand as he turned to look at you.

“Just… how close the three of you are, and how I feel a little left out. And how weird it is to be back here, with you, and how quick it all seems.”

“We don’t have to move fast.”

“I don’t think we are, I just feel like I’m intruding on something. You three are fine talking amongst yourselves, I just was… admiring the friendships you have. How… unexpected…? they are.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Eddie.” You placed your hand on his leg and squeezed it, his hand falling over top of yours and guiding it higher up his thigh to where you could feel his dick getting hard.

“I’m high, and horny, and the way you’ve been staring at me for the last five minutes has me ready to take you in the bathroom right here and now. So unless you want me to go rub one out in the bathroom myself- which, I wouldn’t mind- then please come join me while your brother and Robin are getting more drinks and are hitting on the bartenders.” You glanced over his shoulder to where, sure enough, the two were distracted by the girls working behind the bar. You pushed Eddie out of the booth and all but ran to the hallway of single stall bathrooms. You picked the last one on the hall, and said a quiet thank you that there was a working lock on the door.

“Your tits look amazing in this dress, I’ve been wanting to get my hands on you all night.” Eddie’s greedy hands grabbed at your side as he worked his way up to your chest, massaging your breasts through the satin material. You couldn’t wear a bra with the straps of the dress so you had opted to go without, and his thumbs rubbed over your nipples, making them go hard against the cool, silky fabric. Your body arched into his as he was kissing across the expanse of your throat, you were sure he’d be leaving marks that would appear in the morning, but you didn’t care about that right now because everything felt so good.

You tugged him into you so you could feel more of his body against yours, and you kissed him hard the second he took his mouth off of your neck. The kiss was sloppy- you were drunk, and he was high, and the two of you wanted each other so badly that neither of you cared about the messiness of the kiss- you just knew you needed him right now.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” He asked you in that low voice again as he pushed your foreheads together, both of you panting, “Or do you not know again?” He mocked, you knew he didn’t mean it, and his confidence was getting you going even more.

“What do you want?” You turned the question on him and watched as his head flew back as you grabbed at his hard length through his black pants. “You want that, yeah? You want me on my knees for you?”

His hands left your body as he ran his fingers over his face, and through his hair, and desperately panted out, “Fuck yes, baby.”

You undid his belt with his dark eyes on you, and he guided you down with his hand on top of your head as you sunk to the floor of the bathroom. He was pumping his thick cock with his other hand as you were at eye level with it, it’s size intimidating you, but you weren’t going to let that get to you. His hand pushed your head forward and you opened your mouth with your tongue splayed out and he let out a moan of pleasure as your tongue made contact with the underside of his cock.

“Oh, that feels so good.” He said as you bobbed your head on his cock, adding a hand to pump him into your mouth as the other hand dug into his thigh to help steady yourself. “Fuck, you wanted this all night too, didn’t you? I wanted to see you on your knees in that bathroom at the dumb fucking banquet but this is so much better.” You looked up at him through your lashes and realized what a goner he was for you.

You moaned as his tip hit the back of your throat, and you popped yourself off of him and kept pumping him with your hand, “Town freak with the town slut? What a pair we would’ve been.” You felt his hands back in your hair as he pushed your mouth back down onto his cock, and he pulled you off sloppily, drool stringing from your mouth to his tip.

“Get up before I blow this load into your mouth, I don’t wanna waste it.” He slowly pumped his dick as he watched you stand up, his head tilted in a cocky manner, “turn around and stick your ass out, Harrington.” He guided you to the tile of the bathroom wall where you obeyed. His hands were quick to pull your dress up over your hips, and he slid your thong to the side, “So fucking wet and I haven’t even touched you. I bet this is the shit you love, isn’t it?” You didn’t know what to say as you felt his fingers feel your wet cunt, you were practically dripping already from excitement. “Hawkins High School queen, getting fucked by me in the bathroom of a bar.” With no warning, the tip of his dick replaced his fingers as he shoved himself into your pussy.

“Fuck, Eddie!” You hissed, it almost hurt because he was so wide, and you were so tight. He stilled for a second.

“Sorry, baby, I got a little eager, you okay?” He pulled your sweaty hair back and tucked it behind your ear again. “Tell me when.” He kissed your cheek as he rocked slowly to let you adjust to his size.

“I-I’m good.”

“You sure?” His hands gripped onto your hips as he stayed at a slow pace. “You don’t sound good.”

“I’m too good, you feel so good.” Your forehead met the cold tile as you closed your eyes in bliss at the feeling of being so full.

“There’s my girl.” He said into your ear as he thrusted up into you, your moaning and panting matching each others. His hand snaked around the front of you and started rubbing circles into your clit, “want you to cum on my cock, baby, okay?” You nodded because it was all you could do with how good you felt. Your knees started to feel weak as he picked up the pace of his thrusts into you, and you quickly came undone as he went faster and faster, eventually spilling into you with a few final fucks. His teeth sunk into your shoulder as he stayed inside of you, “Fuck. Are you kidding me?”

“What?” Your head shot back to look at him.

“I can’t believe we missed out on years of this. You felt so good, was everything okay?” He nuzzled into your back as he slowly pulled out of you and you jumped a little at how overly sensitive you were feeling.

“Yeah, it was perfect.” You readjusted your underwear and turned to face him. “You were perfect.”

You kissed him on the lips and he kissed back softly, “Sorry I get a little uh, chatty.” His cheeks were blushing pink and you leaned in and kissed one of them.

“I expected nothing different.” You giggled as you fixed his hair, the post sex-bliss fading away quickly as you realized what you had just done, and where you had done it. “I’ve uh, never… done anything like that before.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Eddie buckled up his belt and helped you smooth your hair and dress down, “but I wouldn’t mind doing that again sometime.”

You grabbed his hand after you checked yourselves out in the mirror and headed back to the table where Robin and Steve had just sat down.

“We don’t need to know.” Robin held her hands up.

“Sorry, I got sick from all the wine. I was going to grab you, but I didn’t wanna take you away from a potential date.”

“Damnit, I lost my money!” Robin slid a $10 bill over to Steve.

“Told you, she can’t hold her wine. I had too many wine calls from Chicago that ended in her throwing up to think differently. Plus, those bathrooms are disgusting.” Steve spoke and slid you a glass of water, with which you hid your blushed cheeks behind while Eddie pulled you into his side with a squeeze.

You all finished a round of water before piling back into Eddie’s van, and he drove Steve and Robin back to her house. You leaned your head on Eddie as he drove the way back to his house, and took a deep sigh.

“You okay? A little worried you might actually get sick now, sweetheart.”

“I’m perfectly fine now. Really good actually. Just tired and ready for bed.”

“Really? ‘Cause I’m ready for round two.” Eddie had his eyebrows raised and you shook your head.

“No way, I’m exhausted. And don’t you have work in the morning?”

“Yes, moooom. I’m just kidding by the way. Unless you wanted to, ‘cause that was really good.”

You rolled your eyes at your boyfriend and closed your eyes as the rumbling of the van relaxed you the rest of the way back.

“I’m gonna stay out and smoke one before heading in. You can pick whatever you want to wear to bed from my drawer.” Eddie lit a cigarette and you scurried inside, but not before you asked him to unzip the back of his dress where his fingers lingered a little too long.

You picked one of his old Hellfire shirts and a pair of boxers, and took them to the bathroom to get changed. After washing your face and brushing your teeth, you climbed into his empty bed and waited for him. It must have been a long time, because next thing you knew he was sneaking into the bed with you with just his boxers on, you had already fallen asleep.

“What took you so long?” You groaned out as your hangover was already starting.

“Had to finish writing something. Didn’t wanna wake you up so I went to the living room.”

“What time is it?” You scratched your head and looked around for a clock.

“Uh, like, four in the morning.”

“Eddie, you need sleep.”

“That’s why I’m here.” He said as he pulled the covers over you two and tucked you into his side. “Goodnight, my girl.”

“‘Night.” You muttered as you yawned and drifted back off to sleep.

-

“Eddie, wake up. Wake up!” You shook a sleeping Eddie who was drenched in sweat and yelling out in his sleep.

“What?!” He sat up abruptly and looked around his room. “Fuck.” He put his head in his hands and pulled at the roots of his hair, “fuck, fuck, FUCK! Shit!”

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You placed a hand on his back, and rubbed it to comfort him but he hissed at the contact and leaned away. “Eddie?” You reached out again with a more gentle touch and felt the scars that lined his back. “You okay?”

He shook his head no, and you sat up, pulling him into a hug. He let you, and collapsed into your arms into the hug.

“Bad dream. Bad fucking nightmare.” He muttered to himself and you couldn’t understand what he was saying.

“What?”

“I said, I had a really shitty dream and I haven’t had one in a long time. I need to go smoke.” He pushed off the bed and stormed out of his bedroom, slamming the door behind him. You sat there, stunned at his sudden mood change again. You waited a few minutes before you got out of bed and crept into the living room. You saw the telephone cord stretched out to the back porch from the kitchen, and saw Eddie propped against the railing talking on the phone and… laughing?

“Eddie, are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah. Well I’m gonna go. Thanks for talking with me. Buh-bye.” He hung the phone up and finished his cigarette, and embraced you in a hug. You carefully put your arms around him and he let you this time, and you soothingly rubbed his back.

“I’m worried about you and your mood swings, Eddie.”

“Sorry. I just had this dream that you were in the upside down with us, and I couldn’t get you away from vecna, and you were caught-”

“Who?” You quirked your eyebrow at him, hoping for some sort of explanation. “Like, vecna from-”

“Yeah, except way worse. And real. Like really fucking real. And my scars hurt everytime I have these nightmares and they fuck me up for days at a time, and I have to call Steve or someone and-” he stopped his rambling as soon as he realized he was telling you about the past. “Sorry I didn’t mean to talk about it too much.”

“Hey, I’m here for you.” You pulled out of the hug and placed your hands on his soft cheeks that were scattered with patches of facial hair. “You can talk to me too. I know Steve was there, but I’m here now.”

“But you weren’t there.”

“But I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere, Eddie. I mean it.” You kissed his forehead and watched as he melted into another hug of yours. This time it felt like you were holding him. “Eddie, are you- are you popping a boner right now?” You pulled back from the hug and saw his underwear starting to tent up.

“Sorry, but you’re a beautiful woman hugging me braless in one of my Hellfire shirts. Yes, you’re making me hard.” He blushed at his answer before he squeezed your ass. “Now get inside before I bend you over the porch, it’s time for round two.”

TAGLIST: @secretdryrose @adequate-superstar @briasnow-blog @tinyminxie @boomhauer @corrodedcoffincumslut @dylanmunson @kimmi-kat @rhirojo @prestinalove @kellyxo1 @sweeter-innocence-fics

[verybadatwriting]

Blood and Marrow

Summary: Reader is the child of a hard-working single mother and a long-forgotten one night stand. One day the consequences of their father's identity catches up to the Reader

Warnings: Imprisonment, needles, improper conditions for prisoners, bone marrow stealing, surgery without anesthetic, torture essentially, kidnapping, in-world curse word, parental death, iv’s

Notes: It’s a little slow to get started, but whatever.

Gn!reader, Fett!reader

Word count: 4031

The whispering streets sped by as the train picked up speed. Another day was done, you and your mother were finally on your way home. Even though today wasn’t the longest she’d ever had to stay at work, it sure felt like it. All but two cooks and half the servers got food poisoning, so you had to help out. Normally you got to sit in the corner and do your schoolwork, instead you were ferrying meals and dishes back and forth between the kitchen and customers. 

Your mom had been working here since before you were born, so it was like a second home to you. A dirty, noisy home, full of strangers, but a home nonetheless. When you were a baby your mom would park you in a corner with some toys and just keep half an eye on you while she worked. 

That corner became your spot, permanently. Everyone knew not to seat customers there, except on the days you worked. Today it was occupied by an elderly Mon Calamari couple. They ordered crab-stuffed cream puffs, and complained that they had too much crab, and not enough stuffing. You tried explaining that it’s stuffed with crab, so the crab is the stuffing, but they were firm. 

Eventually you just took the puffs back to the kitchen, waited a few minutes, and came back out with the same plate. This time they were “absolutely perfect” and they asked why “You didn’t make them like this the first time?”

Putting on your best customer service face you simply smiled and told them to enjoy their meal. 

“What I really wanted to tell them,” You said to your mom, “Was that they looked like a bunch of shriveled up–”

“Alright!” She interrupted sternly, “That’s quite enough.” She tried giving you her signature ‘mom-glare’ but you could see a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

The train ground to a halt at stop G17, and you disembarked. This was the worst part of the commute; strolling through the slums. Ever since you were little you had hated your neighborhood. The neon lights and bottles strewn about, the clusters of people who never seemed to disperse or do anything other than stand around. 

About two years ago things got really bad after a rough batch of layoffs, and the standing around turned to rioting. Rioting turned to looting, which turned to robberies. You and your mother hid in the bathroom as men ransacked your apartment. Crashes rattled the ground as they tossed through dressers and drawers looking for valuables.

They were about to open the bathroom door when an authoritative voice ordered them to put their hands up. Obviously they didn’t obey, and the sounds of fighting erupted. An electric zapping sound buzzed and the robbers thunked to the ground.

“Apartment building 5C clear.” The man said. 

“Wait– scratch that.” Said another, identical voice. “One room left.” The door slowly opened, and the man pointed a flashlight inside. He didn’t wear the uniform of the Coruscant Underworld Police, instead his armor was mostly white with red accents. He lowered his stun baton when the light passed over the scared forms of you and your mother. 

“Now apartment building 5C is clear.” He said into his com, then to your mother, “Are you hurt?”

“No.” She said, “We’re fine.”

“Thorn,” The other trooper called into the bathroom. “We’ve gotta get moving. Stone needs help with the riots to the west. Latest reports say three dead.”

The troopers arrested the robbers and quickly left, leaving you and your mom alone in your completely trashed apartment. It took hours to clean it all up. Even longer to even start to feel safe again.

Now, as you finally slid off your shoes and settled down on your bed, you felt a little safe. The doors were locked and bolted. In the past two years nobody else broke in, and things were calm enough. 

“Try to catch some sleep, Y/n,” Your mom poked her head into your room. 

“Mhm.” You nodded, “I’ve just gotta finish up some homework. I promise I’ll be in bed by one.”

“That’s my kid.” Your mom went to the joint living/dining room and spread a blanket on the couch. She laid there, and you listened to her breathing slowly steady as she drifted off to sleep. 

Your blinks got longer and longer until you set aside the work and stilus to finally sleep. Just like you promised, it was a few minutes before one. What felt like a moment later, you woke up with a start. 

At first, you couldn’t tell what woke you, but then you heard footsteps clanking in the living room. They stopped again, and you heard a brief, muffled yell from your mother. The clanking started again, and seconds later, a tall metallic figure stood in your doorway. It approached, and pressed a cloth over your mouth and nose. The world went fuzzy and then dark as you clawed at the metal arm.

Some time later, you’re not quite sure how long, you woke up with a splitting headache. You tried to rub your eyes, but found your arms were immobile. The room spun around as you reoriented yourself. At first you thought you were lying on your back, but in reality you were hanging from the ceiling by two shackles on your wrists. Your feet barely brushed the floor, so all your weight was pulling down on your arms.

Your eyes slowly acclimated to the darkness around you. The walls were slick durasteel. The floor was metal as well, but slightly slanted towards a small, round drain in the center. Layers of old, dried crud that no one had bothered to clean up streaked toward it.

As you just hung there, breathing heavily because of a stabbing pain in your sternum. You also had a stabbing, unending pain in your head. Before all of this had time to fully register, the door slid open, a blinding light was turned on, and a Skakoan man entered. His dark blue robes draped loosely from his hissing pressure suit. Tubes reached from his neck plate to the upper chest plate, which featured nozzles and ports. The metal caught the light and glinted.

Closely after him, a 2-1B surgical droid followed. The shiny metal of its body was all straight lines and perfect curves. The ends of its arms were equipped with tools; tools you couldn't even imagine the purpose of. Its lifeless, glowing eyes stared through you. 

“Shall we begin, Emir Tambor?” It asked, holding up a container.

“Of course.” 

Tambor took the box from the droid, opened it, and removed a long, sharp needle. There was a clear collection area at the base. He sterilized the instrument. The droid, meanwhile, was approaching you. It was holding a bottle of disinfectant, which it sprayed onto your right hip after moving aside the clothing that was in the way. Your skin rose with goosebumps at the cold. 

The Skakoan approached, holding a scalpel. Slowly it was pressed into your side, through layers of skin, then muscle. Then it held back the layers of muscle while Tambor raised a drill and pushed it through the exterior of your bone. Your chest tightened in pain. You bit your tongue. You tasted blood in your mouth from biting too hard, while more trickled down your leg.

“Syringe.” Tambor said as he removed the drill and held out his gloved hand to the droid. It glinted against the harsh light as it passed between them. It plunged into the freshly-drilled hole in your bone and into the squishy marrow. The container at the end slowly filled with a dark red liquid. Darker than blood. 

“Suture,” The droid said, holding out a tool to the Skakoan scientist.

“You deal with that. I have what I need; 18.44 precious ounces of bone marrow.” Tambor started towards the door, cradling the container like it was worth more than a hundred kyber crystals. The door slid closed behind him, leaving only you and the dead-eyed droid. 

Finally, you allowed a sob to rip through your chest. Your chest heaved as you drew a shuddering breath, then devolved back into tears. The sound echoed off the shadowy walls. When Tambor left, the overhead lights turned off automatically, plunging the room into near complete darkness. Only the droid’s glowing eyes provided light. Even then, they were fixed at patching up the mess that was your hip.

“It would assist me if you could stay still,” It said.

For the next few minutes you tried to think of anything else than the metal digits nimbly stitching up your flesh. Where were you? Why are they doing this? Who is ‘they’? Did they kidnap your mom, too?

The thought of your mom hanging from her wrists in some dark cell, just as you were, was enough to make you cry again. The droid whirred disapprovingly. You stifled them as best you could. 

It was almost over. The droid just had to finish stitching together the final layer of muscle, and apply a bacta patch. It never got the chance, because the door blew open, and a few clone troopers marched in, guns blazing. They shot down the surgery droid the moment they saw it. Behind them, you saw a half dozen more blue -armored soldiers in the hall.

“This one’s alive,” called out the one nearest to you, “Kix, get over here!”

“Can you hear me?” The medic asked, opening his kit. 

You nodded.

“This is gonna sting a little,” He said, pressing a bacta patch over your still bleeding hip. The sting was the least of your worries. Even that slight amount of pressure was enough to make you gasp in pain.

“You’re okay,” Kix said reassuringly to you, then he barked at his brothers to unfasten the chains holding you up. Almost immediately, they snapped the right chain and all your weight swung onto the other arm. Kix clone put his arm under your shoulders, and held you up while one of his brothers worked at undoing the second manacle. 

“Can you walk?” Kix asked once his brother had freed you. You tried putting a little weight on your leg, but couldn’t manage it. Your other leg nearly buckled, and only Kix’s arm kept you standing.

“No.” You hissed through clenched teeth. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” He said, “What’s your name?”

“Y/n,” You answered.

“We’re going to take you to our ship, Y/n,” He said, “You’ll be on the first flight out of here.” 

“Mhmm.” You said, the blood loss making you a bit woozy. Your head lolled to the side, and rested against Kix’s shoulder.

“Kix,” one of the soldiers said. His helmet had a blue downwards-pointing arrow, and a smaller red triangle above that. His armor was battered, just like the rest of them. The paint was worn away in places. 

“This area still isn’t secured. They’ll have to wait to be evacuated.”

“They can’t wait,” Kix replied, “Look at that, Dogma” he pointed to a puddle of your blood on the floor, “Look at it. They’ve lost too much blood already. We’re getting them out, now.”

After a moment of thoughtfully looking at the blood he nodded and said, “We’ll cover you.” Then he spoke into his comm, “Civilian evac needed. Be ready to provide cover fire.”

“Hear that?” Kix asked you. “We’ll get you out of here.”

“Hardcase, and Dogma, on my mark,” came a voice over the comms a moment later. “Three… Two… One!”

Dogma leaned out of the door and chucked a grenade up the hallway, and at the same time, another clone did the same thing from a room across the hall. They both ducked back inside, and covered their ears as two small explosions shook the walls. 

One soldier with pale blue stripes on his armor jumped out into the corridor with a 6-Z rotary cannon and started firing massive sprays of blaster bolts towards the droids. At the same time, Kix shifted to carry most of your weight, and started running towards the turbolift at the opposite end of the hall. 

The whole escape was a bit of a blur. The hallway was one long, straight passage from the room you were being held in to the lift. Unfortunately, that meant there was barely any cover. Even with the clones mowing down rows of droids, a few bolts still sailed down the hall towards you. It was so loud.

But the noise stopped suddenly once you saw into one of the other rooms. Everything stopped. The world stopped. Maybe even the whole galaxy. 

In that room, one identical to the one you had been held in, hung a woman. Her wrists were bound in chains, her head hung limply. Her clothes were bloodsoaked. Worst of all, she was absolutely still.

Nothing – not the pain in your leg, not the slicing scalpel tearing flesh, not the needle siphoning marrow – no, nothing could ever come close to the pain of seeing her like that, and knowing she was gone.

You felt Kix tug you forward, ripping you back to reality where everything was moving and there was no time to mourn. Before you knew it, the two of you were in the elevator. The smooth doors slid closed, drowning out the sounds of battle.

Through the curved window, you could see you were on an asteroid. The rocky barren landscape was littered with ships, troops, and the flashes of blaster fire. It looked like the Republic was taking the whole place.

“We’re almost there,” Kix said softly. “In the transport there’s an IM-6 medical droid that will take good care of you. You’re gonna be okay, kid.”

Finally, you reached the roof. Three low-altitude transports awaited you. You rushed to the closest one, Kix pulled down an emergency cot at the back, and set you down. He had to go back to the fight, but he dosed you with something first. It made the world fuzzy. Your pain dulled.

You barely even registered the little floating droid working diligently on your leg and your chest. Kix came back twice, both times half-carrying one of his wounded brothers. He set up the other two cots for them as the droid floated over to assist.

Not too long later, the transport started to fill up with soldiers. They were tired, but not completely exhausted. They quietly cracked jokes to one another, despite injuries.

The doors slid closed, the ship started rumbling, then flying. 

Kix stood in the back, near the cots, to assess his brothers. Once they were situated, he squatted down next to you.

“It’s been a little while,” He said, quietly. “How’re you holding up?”

“It still hurts,” You said, “But the meds help.”

“Good,” He nodded. “Is there someone you want us to contact, tell them you’re alright?”

You gained a faraway stare and paused as your eyes welled up.  

“Were there any other survivors?” You asked, dreading the answer.

“There were not.”

“No, then,” You said, voice perilously close to cracking. “I only ever had my mom, and as of today, she’s dead.” 

You reached up and wiped the tears from your eyes with the back of your hand.

“Where do you live?”

“Coruscant,” You said. “But I don't have anywhere to go. I’ll be put in foster care till I age out, then I’ll just be dumped on the street.”

“It’ll be okay,” Kix said. “We don’t have to figure it all out right now.” He looked at the datapad clipped to the side of your cot. His eyebrows wrinkled. 

“Are you having trouble breathing?” He asked.

“A little. Why?” 

“Your respiratory muscles are working harder than expected. I’m going to give you something to help them relax.”

He pushed a small dose of a clear liquid through your IV and almost immediately you felt your muscles relax from head to toe. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” He said. You found you couldn’t keep your eyes open, so you slept.

You awoke when the transport landed in the hangar of a much larger ship. The able-bodied clones hopped out quickly, and were soon absorbed by the throngs of people all fixing, refueling, and disembarking from ships. 

The two injured clones were transferred onto stretchers. As they floated by, you saw one was missing the lower chunk of his leg. The other clone was only half unconscious. His chest plate was battered with blaster burns, and as he drifted past, you smelled the unmistakable scent of burning flesh. 

Kix scooped you up, and set you down on a hoverchair. Almost immediately you felt more awake. On the journey to the medbay, you watched others that followed the same route as you. Most injuries weren’t that bad. The general mood was celebratory, even in the medbay.

“I’m gonna help you into a bed,” Kix said, “But then I have to go help my brothers. I won’t be far.” 

Once more he lifted you gently, making sure not to put pressure on your hip, and laid you down in the bed. You watched as Kix went from bed to bed bandaging and comforting the injured. 

Slowly, everything settled down. One by one the patched up clones were sent on their way, and the medbay was calm. There was still work to do, but the medics were no longer running from one task to the next, instead they took inventories of what materials were needed, and updated medical logs. 

It was then that your trouble breathing got much, much worse. Despite trying your hardest, very little air moved in or out of your lungs. Pain coursed through your chest as your muscles tried to pull in what little breath they could. You coughed, hoping that would help. 

All that did was bring the taste of blood to your tongue. You sat up. A drop fell from your mouth and onto the pristine white sheets. 

Kix turned at the sound of your cough. He set down the data-pad and rushed over when he saw you sit up and spit blood. 

“You’re okay,” He said, placing a stethoscope on your back, “Keep coughing.” He turned to another medic and said, “We’re gonna need a needle, tubing, and a container.” 

He grabbed the bedside table.

“Lean on this,” Kix said, pulling it closer. You turned, sitting on the edge of the bed, legs hanging off, and you braced your forearms on top of it, still coughing and trying to clear your lungs.

The medic returned quickly, all the necessary supplies in his arms.

“You’re gonna feel a sharp prick on your back, just below your ribs,” Kix said, picking up the syringe and securing the tubing on one end. “On three, ready?”

You nodded.

“One, two,” He pushed the needle through skin, muscle, and finally lung. It was uncomfortable and caught you off guard, but immediately the pressure started to decrease. A moment or two later, you could breathe with not too much difficulty.

Kix arranged everything so that you could sit up against the pillows.

“What’s wrong with me?” You asked.

“There is fluid leaking into your lungs,” Kix said, “I’m not exactly sure what it is; there’s at least some blood in it.”

“What caused it?”

“I’m guessing they weren’t too careful when extracting bone marrow from the sternum, and somehow nicked your lung. We can keep draining it, but we’ll have to fix the puncture at some point. We’ll probably use the drainage tube to access it…” 

You kept listening as he worked on possible solutions. The events of the past few hours suddenly washed over you, and your eyes once again drooped closed. 

When you woke up, there was no longer a bag attached to your side. Where the tube had been, there was just a simple bacta patch. 

The medbay staff had changed. They looked less tired. Kix was in the corner, near the door, talking with a blonde trooper. When they noticed you were awake, they came over.

You’d seen the other trooper before. He held his helmet under one arm, the jaig eyes peering out at you. 

“Y/n,” Kix said, pulling up a chair next to your bed, “This is Captain Rex. He leads the 501st.”

“Yeah,” You nodded, “The ones that got me outta there.” 

“Kix was just sharing that you’re healing well,” Rex said.

“I definitely feel way better, now that I’m not coughing up blood and struggling to breathe,” You said.

“I am very thankful we fixed that,” Kix nodded, then another medic called him over.

“Excuse me,” He said, then walked to the other end of the medbay. 

Rex was quiet, as though he didn’t really know what to say.

“Anyway,” he finally said, “I’m here to see if you have any information that might help us.”

“Uh… I don’t really know much.”

“That’s fine, just tell me what happened.”

“Well, they kidnapped us from my mom’s apartment on Coruscant. Some droids drugged us and we must’ve been out for at least a few hours, since when I woke up in that cell, they had already taken bone marrow from my chest. I hung there for a bit, then they took marrow from my hip, and that’s when y’all showed up.” 

“Can you think of any reason that the Separatists would want to target you or your family?”

“Nope. Mom and I aren’t politically active or important. Truth be told, I haven't the foggiest who my father was.”

You talked for a bit longer, and just as Rex was standing up, Kix came back. His eyes were fixed on the datapad held in his hands. His forehead was deeply creased; his expression the epitome of concern.

“Wait one moment, Captain,” He said. “This… this is bad.”

“What is it?” You and Rex both asked.

“The team on the ground just finished uploading their reports on the equipment. It’s for advanced genetic sequencing. They were working to reconstruct Jango Fett’s DNA.”

“What were they even working from?” Rex asked, eyebrows scrunching together.

“They spliced together DNA from one of Fett’s children, their mother, and one of our brothers.” 

“Jango didn’t have any children.” Rex said, then asked, “Right?”

“That’s what I thought, before I found this lab, at least” Kix shook his head, then turned towards you, “Y/n, I ran a paternity test on you. You are Jango Fett’s child.”

“Okay?” You said. “I have, like, zero clue what that means.”

“Have you told the general yet?” Rex asked Kix, completely ignoring your confusion.

“I’m on my way to do just that.” 

With that, Kix left, clutching his datapad. 

A few weeks later, you had fully healed.

Going through your old apartment was difficult. You only found a few things worth keeping. Most held too many painful memories. Nothing of value was left, since after people figured out it was empty, it was seen as an easy target. 

Sifting through the piles of overturned mess was too hard, so you didn’t. Instead, you picked up a few things. A necklace. A hologram of you and your mom, both beaming at whoever took it. 

You snapped it closed, and pushed yourself to your feet. You took in your ransacked apartment one last time. It reminded you of the last time this happened, two years ago. The only difference now, is that you had a place to go. 

“You ready?” Came a voice from the doorway. 

“Yup.” You said, voice wavering, but not breaking. “Let’s go, Kix.”

Word spread fast that you were Jango’s child. The troopers of the 501st took you under their wings. Kix trained you in the medical field, and Rex taught you to shoot.

They set you up with a bunk and a drawer, which was all you needed. Sleeping in the same room as countless clones was calming. Their rhythmic breathing lulled you into a feeling of safety.

Over a late night of swapping stories, you learned that Jango had another child. A boy named Boba. 

You knew you had to find him. All you had to do first was track him down.

[wowgodmusthateme]

Netayam x loner! Omatikaya reader

Reader is the daughter of a Na’vi women who’s mate was killed in the first movie by humans and because of this she left the clan and went far out into the forest where she knew her and her child would be safe.

TW! Aged up netayam just for plot (no NSFW)

Enjoy and my requests are open so feel free to ask my anything … one love🫶🏾

Oh who is she?

The sound of crying put me on edge. Who would be this far away from the village is the first thought that found its way into my brain, I let curiosity get the best of me. As I got closer I spotted a young girl pressed up against a tree, I got as close as possible without being spotted she seemed scared.

“Hey kid you ok?” My voice made her jump, she couldn’t be any older than eight “no I can’t find my way back to the village” she sobbed. I let out a sigh as I crouch down in front of her “what’s your name kid” she replied “tuk” through quite hiccups, “ ok tuk come on I’ll help you get back” she immediately jumped up and grabbed my wrist.

I took her to a stream about a mile away from the village “ok kid it’s a straight shot from her” I said while prying he hand from my wrist, a confused look found its way onto her face. She opened her mouth to ask me a question but before she could get it out someone yelled her name “Tuk there you are” as we looked up we saw a man with long braids, he was unlike any man I had ever seen, his eyes were staring into my soul “netayam” yelled the girl in excitement as she ran over and hugged his leg The impact of the hug made him look down, and when he looked back up, I was gone.

It had been a month since I helped the young girl and all I could think about was him, and he must’ve been thinking about me as well . For a month straight during eclipse he would walk around the forest like he was searching for something. The entire month I watched him from the trees, it made me uneasy that a Na’vi would come so far into the forest especially at this hour. Once again my curiosity got the best of me and I decided that I would confront him, but that was three days ago I just couldn’t seem to work up the courage, when he turned around to go back to the village his ears fell flat against his head he seemed discouraged, it’s now or never I whispered to myself.

I threw a pebble behind him to turn his attention away from me, it worked.The sound of it hitting the ground caught his attention, and he turned around, but he saw nothing I took this chance to get about an arms length in front of him, he jumped when he turned back around.

“Oh you scared me” he said through and awkward chuckle,I continued to stare at him. “Ive been looking for you I just wanted to say thank you for bringing my sister back” he said while scratching the back of his neck, “you’ve been walking around the forest for a month just to thank me?” I ask while tilting my head “you’ve been watching me?” He asked dumbfounded, all I could do was nod my head as a response. It fell silent again as we watched each other, I let out a sigh and began walking away “hey wait” he said reaching out to grab my wrist, that stopped me dead in my tracks no one other than my mother had ever touched me, i thought while moving my gaze from his hand on my wrist to his eyes. Beautiful, I thought “ will you meet me here tomorrow night?” Immediately I shook my head, he was stranger , a threat only eaway knows what he was planning “ please I just want to talk” my head was screaming no, this would go against everything I’ve ever known before I could even form my mouth to say no my soul took over “ only talk?” It came out as a whisper, softer than i would have liked “only talk” he said in a promising tone.

That had been 7 months ago, every night for 7 months we would meet and talk for hours, he told me everything and so did I. But recently something has changed instead of looking at me he would look anywhere else, his visit were shorter and so were his response’s.

“Are you mad at me?” This question seemed to shock him “what! No why would you think that?” He asked confused “well what has changed? What is wrong?” he let out a sigh and looked ahead at the small pool of water in front of us, it was a long while before he answered my question “it is time for me to find a mate” he whispered, I immediately felt sick to my stomach “oh, well I’m sure there’s plenty of fine women in the clan to choose from” I said trying my best to hide my sadness “I don’t want them” he stated matter of factly he turned to look at me and only then did I notice how close we were but I didn’t bother to move, I couldn’t “I’ve already chosen” he said while moving his hand to caress the side of my face “but this woman must also chose me” with a shaky voice I responded “ she already chose you a long time ago”

[mintymarabell]

Rescued by the stars

A/n: in all honesty, I’ve never been good at writing slow burns and this is one of my firsts. I hope I didn’t make the names too cheesy. :)

Word count; 2,354

They always said that when you die, it all goes black. However, from her little spot to which she had crawled off, there was a hill. Her bloody trail led up to the hill where she lay on her stomach at the top. The morning sun was warm on Adelaine’s chilling skin. In the distance, she saw a beautiful white dove, but there was no clue how it got out to those parts of the world. Its beauty rivals even the sun's. Maybe she really was dying, and it was just a hallucination. Maybe it actually was a random dove out in the middle of the desert. Maybe…

Adelaine jolted awake at the roar of an engine, and her injuries ached at the sudden movement. Looking forward, she was met with big feet. She looked up, and her neck throbbed at the motion. There stood a man in silver armor. "Are you another hallucination?" Her voice came out hoarse as she rested her head on the sand below her.

"Quite the opposite, little ooman."

Before Adelaine could get another word in, the man had hoisted her up into his arms, carrying her as if she were a child. Her vision became blurry as the man walked into a vehicle of some sort, laying Adelaine down on a hospital bed to stick needles into her paling arms. "What are you doing?" she spoke with weariness.

"Saving your life." the man said.

Those were the last words Adelaine heard before the world around her went black.

Days had passed since she last saw the white dove in the desert. Adelaine had no memory of what happened after the random man had injected her with the needles, but now she found herself in a clean, sterile room. The beeping of machines and the feel of the softness of a hospital bed beneath her. Her head throbbed, and her body ached, but she was alive.

She looked around in confusion. Adelaine had just been on the sandy floor, and now she was in a bed with pillows littered around her. Groaning, she sat up, and heronce immobile joints popped at the motion. The room she sat in was purely white, and the lights above her head shone brightly, worsening her approaching headache. With hesitance, she took a hold of one of herIV's, slowly pulling them out of her vein. As she reached into her hospital gown to tear off the electrodes that stuck to her chest, the heart monitor flatlined, making a loud consistent blaring sound. In the distance, Adelaine could hear heavy footsteps hitting the floor. The door to the room slid open, revealing that same man who was now lacking his metallic mask. She screamed as she looked at his horrifyingly ugly face. It wasn't human; it had four mandibles and beady eyes. The thing jolted at Adelaine’s now conscious screaming state, and it took a moment before he slowly approached with his hands in the air.

"I'm not going to hurt you," the man tried to reason as he backed up to the headboard of the bed.

"Why do you look like that?" she asked.

The man gave her a blank stare, like she just told him a boring story. "Why do you look like that?" the man shot back as he perked up. With his hands on his hips, the alien scolded Adelaine, throwing her arms up in the air as the man approached. “Maybe don’t pull your IV’s out while I'm trying to keep you alive. My father would kill me if he found out I got you killed,” he spoke, mumbling the last part as his eyes widened slightly. Adelaine’s voice held curiosity as her brow raised. “Father?”

“Mhmm, my father. He’s been watching you for over a year, and when he saw you hurt in that desert, he made me come get you,” the alien said, taking the Adelaine’s arm in his hand to examine the bruising. “Is he here? How did he know I was hurt? Why is he watching me?” The alien sighed as he walked over to a counter to pull a cream out of the cabinet above it. “He isn’t here; he's on the mothership. The only reason he knew you were hurt was that he has other people watching you. He just trusted me enough not to hurt you, seeing as I’m the only oomanologist on the ship,” he spoke as he walked back to her, opening the container and putting some cream on his finger before spreading it on the Adelaine’s arm.

She was in disbelief, a mothership? Did that mean they were on a ship? In the middle of space? And what was an oomanologist? “You most likely want to shower, yes?” Snapping out of her trance, Adelaine looked toward the alien, who was at the end of the bed. She nodded, swinging her feet off the bed and shifting till she was at the edge. Hopping off of the bed, her legs almost buckled at the unexpected height.

The alien guy sighed as he motioned for Adelaine to follow him. He took her out of the room, through the halls. One of the walls was made of glass, the black space meeting her gaze. She couldn’t believe it; she really was out in the middle of nowhere. “We should be only an hour away now,” the alien's voice echoed through the gray ship walls. Adelaine said nothing, choosing to stare off into the window as she walked.

They arrived in a room, and the door slid open to reveal a modern bathroom. The alien rummaged through a closet-type nook that sat in the corner near the door, handing over two towels, shampoo, and conditioner. He then shut the door, leaving Adelaine alone with nothing but her thoughts and some random buzzing.

Adelaine hated the silence, always had. Memories of being trapped in a dark room while being tied to a chair flooded her mind, and she could still remember the burn of the ropes around her wrists. That was years ago, back when she was fresh out of high school and had nothing better to do than sign her life away.

Beat for information. Information she didn’t have. Adelaine shivered at the thought, walking over to the showers and throwing the towel down, setting the shampoo and conditioner on the floor. She slightly fiddled with the buttons on the wall under the showerhead, pressing one that was just a few lines turned the water on, steam rising to the air, and the beginning of fog crept onto the mirror. She relieved herself of the hospital gown, letting it gather at her ankles.

As she stepped into the shower, she sighed, the hot water soothing the ache in her back and the crick in her neck. She had needed this, been needing this for a long time. She took the time to look down at her stitched up stomach, she hissed as the water finally hit the inflamed area.

She was not sure how much time passed but what Adelaine did know was that she was in the middle of nowhere basically. She hurried up with her business, scrubbing at her scalp to rid it of the last remains of the conditioner. Adelaine eswiped the towel from the toilet lid, wrapping her hair up in it. She pushed on of the buttons. The water didn’t turn off, instead gaining pressure. She jumped slightly at the change, frantically pressing at the buttons to get it to turn off to which it finally did.

As she dried herself off she looked around. What had he expected her to wear? He had given her no clothes.. Adelaine sat back down on the toilet, wrapped in nothing but a towel as she looked around. Would he even hear if she poked her head out the door and called for him? Knowing nothing else she got up and walked to the door, it slid open with haste revealing a pair of clothes neatly folded on the ground.

Adelaine looked around, bending over to get the clothes she hurried back inside the bathroom.

After scurrying to put the clothes on she stepped out of the bathroom, the sound of her feet echoed as she walked down the hallway looking for the man. The hallways were grey, the ceiling high with strong white lights that were almost designed to give people headaches. The hall was aligned with 4 doors, Adelaine found her peeking her head in each one. A kitchen, living space, and spar room. She stood at the last door, at the end of the hall, as she stepped closer it slid open to reveal a cockpit.

There in the chair sat the same man Adelaine had come accustomed to.

“We are just ten minutes away from yautja prime.” He spun in his chair to face her, Adelaine’s brows furrowed at the information. “Yautja prime?” He sighed as he pulled up a chair. “Take a seat.”

As she sat down in the chair beside him, now that Adelaine wasn’t drowsy she could finally take in the appearance of the behemoth in front of her. He was beautiful in color to say the least, he was a dark maroon like red with splotches of brown up his stomach that ended at his chest. His palms were a lighter maroon. He had multiple charms and such in his dread like hair and his eyes were a beautiful dark green. Adelaine quickly snapped out of it as the man began to talk.

From there he went on to explain what yautja prime was and who it housed. He had spoken about yautja being creatures of honor who hunted and strived to find a ‘worthy prey’.

After his whole spiel was over Adelaine was almost awestruck. It was so much to take in. As if he heard her thoughts he spun toward the control panel, “we have arrived.” Her head turned toward the glass wall that gave a beautiful view of a reddish orange like planet.

The yautja spoke something in his language as the ship ascended into the planet's clouds, there was minor turbulence as the ship shaked slightly before leveling itself out again. The ship was flown to an airport like place similar to earth. As it landed inside of a hefty hanger Adelaine stood up, the yautja also stood as he walked off after flipping a bunch of switches that likely turned the engines off. “Let's go, I will take you to the place you’ll be staying.” Adelaine hummed in response as she followed behind. “What is this guy's name?” She asked as she finally caught up to him, his strides long and swift. “Van’tall, my own name is Kher’k.” He spoke as he surveyed their surroundings for what seemed to be the fourth time. Adelaine sighed as he walked faster, the new names she was dealt were formed on her tongue trying to get used to the pronunciation.

They had walked for what seemed like forever, weaving in and out of crowds and ducking through alleyways to get around traffic. By the time we had stopped the soles of her feet were practically barking. They had arrived at the gates of a large house. The yautja stopped to punch in a code, Adelaine chose to rest against the very tall black metal fence as the gates swung open with a graceful like pace. She stood from her spot and walked with the yautja up the driveway.

“This is my fathers home, he isn’t here right now but he will be in a few weeks. You will be staying here.” He paused as he put another code into the door, pushing it open. The door was huge, easily towering over her form. “You can make yourself at home, in one of the bedrooms are clothes. They should be your size or at least a little bigger.” She stopped, “was he planning on me coming here or something?” the yautja stepped back outside of the door. “Yes, but moving on. There’s plenty of food in the kitchen and servants come by to clean. If you need anything there is a phone in the living room, ok bye.” He talked fast, slamming the door shut as soon as he was done. Adelaine stood there dumbfounded. What was she supposed to do? She hadn't even met the guy and yet she was staying in his home.

The house itself was beautiful, the front door opened up to two big staircases and a some sort of skeleton in the middle. The walls were all decorated with pictures or paintings of different animals. Adelaine had no clue what to do as she walked around the house, there were many rooms. All doors were just as tall as the front and extremely heavy. She had to push all of her body weight into them just to get them open.

Adelaine walked into the kitchen which was big, marble countertops with white tiled floors. There was a big skull on the counter, likely a centerpiece. As she opened the fridge she was met with an array of different meats and fruits. She picked one of the fruits up, one that resembled a grape from earth. As Adelaine popped it into her mouth the taste was quite different from regular grapes, almost more exotic tasting. She hummed, walking out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

Each room was different, there were only two bedrooms. Both bedrooms were identical with the same coloring and appliances, Adelaine claimed one of the bedrooms all but collapsing on the bed. This was kinda nice.

[oc-sickfic-central]

Bad Timing Pt 2

2:36 am

Allie felt herself sleeping soundly but in the distant it sounded like someone was calling her name, then it got louder until she woke up and realized it was Koh. He wasn’t in bed but on the floor in the bathroom in agonizing pain. Kicking the blankets off and heading to him, Koh was on the floor, hysterically crying, choking on sobs. 

“Talk to me.” Not knowing if that would be possible given how upset he was.

“It hurts- so- bad.” 

“Where?” Allie moved some of Koh’s hair out of his face. 

“My stomach and chest. Feel sick but can’t bring anything up. Please, just make it stop.” 

“I need to take you to the hospital.” Allie told him. 

“They’re not gonna do anything! I’ve been countless times. I know what I need Allie.” 

“No! Koh, I’m not getting you or letting you use heroin. It’s not happening.” Allie’s voice rose.

“It’s the only thing that fucking works! I’m in pain and I only need a little bit.” Allie couldn’t believe this. She knew he was hurting and desperate, but it broke her none the less. 

“Give the hospital a chance. I will have them run every and any test they need. I will not let you relapse.” She assured him, a sob breaking out from Koh. 

“Fine.” Allie got up, getting on socks and her shoes and putting her wallet and keys in her bag. She slipped on socks and slippers for Koh. Getting him to his feet was not an easy task. He wanted to keep an arm, cradling his stomach and the other used to push up, feeling dizzy and the cramping was overwhelming. Like sharp stabbing pains over and over. Finally, Allie managed to get Koh up and out the door, down the hallway and to the elevator. 

The walk to the car was utter hell. They had to stop so Koh could catch his breath or double over when a particularly sharp cramp would leave him motionless. They made it to the car eventually and as Allie drove out of the garage and onto the road, there wasn’t a single car around. Making the drive to the hospital quick. 

Pulling into the ER bay, she got out and opened the door to the passenger side as a nurse came to help. She grabbed a wheelchair and could place Koh in it. Allie got back in the car to park it as they took Koh inside to check him in. 

When she walked back into the hospital they had him already back and getting changed into a gown. His movement was slow and face gritting in pain. Between Allie and a nurse they were able to get him dressed and in bed. They started an IV but opted for no pain meds, Koh knew it was for the best.

The doctor came in and asked general questions and then began examining Koh. The doctor felt around his belly pressing around the organ causing Koh to squirm and shift. He could feel stomach contents rising up. Swallowing it back down, and squeezing his eyes shut. Just above his naval was the center of all the pain and when the doctor pressed his hands in that spot, Koh heaved and a bit of stomach bile spilled out onto the bed. 

“Fuck.” Koh’s voice was shaky. “I-it hurts.” Koh closed his eyes as the sharp pains were back and fierce. 

“I’m sorry. We’ll let you get a new blanket.” The doctor patted his leg and turned to the nurse to order a series of tests and scans. The nurse got him a new blanket and took the old one way.

"Are you okay?" Allie asked immediately knowing the answer.

"Far from okay. This all gonna be a waste, they ran the same tests that they’re about to run now, and I can promise you everything is gonna come back normal or unknown. This will be a waste. I’m gonna leave here not knowing anything and still be dealing with whatever this is.” Koh rubbed the side of his head, feeling a headache begin to form. "I'm also embarrassed." Koh mumbled out.

“Why? Because I’m here?” He nodded. 

“Yes, you have to deal with me, with this! That hospital dinner was so fuckin important and I ruined it.” Allie took Koh’s hand. 

“You did not ruin anything. This is not something you can control. I’m not going to be upset or mad if you’re sick, baby. I want to help you. I know you can’t help it.” He didn't know what to say, instead he just settled into the bed wanting to rest. The dull ache that still remained making it hard for Koh to fully sleep.

A little while later a tech came in to conduct an ultrasound the gel was cold on his stomach.

"Cool tattoos." The tech complemented his koi fish that he had gotten after college.

The room was quiet as Koh watched the monitor, unsure of what he was really even looking at.

"Do you see anything?" Allie asked.

“I’m not sure. Usually, when see this type of wall thickening, it can be a type of inflammation. I want to get you up for a CT scan. Might give us a clearer imagine. I’ll grab a nurse and be back in a moment to take you up.”

Handing Koh some tissues to wipe the gel off. Koh just nodded as The tech left the room. A nurse came in a moment later when a wheelchair. Koh swung his legs over the bed and settled into the chair. The movement made him feel unsteady and dizzy. 

“How long will the scan take?” Allie asked.

“Should be about 45 minutes feel free to get something to eat or walk around.” The nurse told her and with that they were off down the hallway of the ER to the elevator up to imagining. 

The CT room had low lighting, which Koh was grateful for. The bright lights of the hallway were making his head hurt more. The nurse helped him out of the chair and onto the bed of the machine. 

“Have you had a CT done before?” Koh nodded. 

“A few times.” 

“Okay, so you know the drill. Lie still and when we’re down, we’ll bring you out.”

Koh tried to sleep but the room was freezing, the blanket they had given him was small and thin barely covered him. He tried thinking of something to keep him distracted 45 minutes felt so long when he didn't have anything to keep himself busy.

After the scan they brought Koh back to the room, Allie was on her phone and set it down as they came back in.

"I'm going to have the doctor review everything and we'll be in shortly to discuss with you our findings." The nurse informed them. Once Koh was back in the bed Allie moved closer to hold his hand. They were both exhausted and ready to go home.

About an hour later the doctor came in to review the tests and scans they took.

“Let me guess, everything is normal and you have no idea what’s wrong.” Koh’s voice was raspy, and it hurt to talk. 

“You have inflammation throughout your digestive tract, your stomach and small intestine. Your case is the worst I’ve seen in a long time. Has no doctor told you that?” 

“They said I had some inflammation, gave me antibiotics and told me it would clear up, but it never did.” Koh shrugged

The doctor took a breath. “It never will. Koh, you have a chronic condition known as Crohn’s disease. It’s a condition when your body’s immune system attacks and destroys healthy body tissue. Sometimes hereditary, genetic or environmental factors contribute to it.” Koh was speechless. After years of pain and suffering and no answers or explanations, he finally knew what was wrong with him. 

It was like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

"What's next?" Allie asked.

"I'd like for him to meet with a a gastro specialist. They'll want to run a few more tests to confirm and while there isn't a cure there are treatments to make the symptoms more manageable. I'll send home some doctors in the area that I recommend. Until you get in with the specialist I'll prescribed some anti-nausea. I’ll write up those and get you started on discharge, unless you have any questions.”

Allie looked to Koh.

“I’m ready to just go home.” The doctor left and Allie gave Koh a small smile.

“Told you.” Allie said. Koh turning his head.

“Told me what?”

“Give the hospital a chance that I would see to you were taken care of.” Koh smiled.

“Yeah, thank you.” She leaned over, kissing his forehead.

[suspicious-whumping-egg]

Collector’s Bounty: Part 4

Masterlist here.

Previous

It’s been a while, so thanks to my readers who are sticking with it! The chapter is long (over 5k) so I hope it was worth the wait <3

~~

Aris dragged him out of the room and down the hall, setting a brutal pace for Jackson’s depleted body. He was forced to cling tight to Aris with one arm and to the IV pole with the other, legs shaking under his own weight as pain stabbed through his side. Aris took no issue with the contact, keeping an arm wrapped securely around his waist, fingertips slowly edging under the waistband of Jackson’s sweatpants. 

They didn’t even make it to the nearby corner before his knees buckled and he flailed forward, a sharp pain tugging through his arm as the IV pole crashed to the floor. Aris caught him effortlessly by a shoulder, tipping him back towards his hold and hoisting him into a bridal carry. Jackson stiffened in the man’s grip, but by now, he was almost too accustomed to the feeling. And he supposed it was better than being forced to crawl over the cold tile until he reached his cell again— although it was hard to ignore Aris’s hand lazily running over his thighs, fingers trailing towards his hips. Despite himself, he shuddered, the movement drawing a fresh twinge of pain from the incision. 

“Would you rather I drag you?” Aris asked sweetly. “That can easily be arranged.”

Jackson gritted his teeth and shook his head, face burning hot with humiliation. He just had to make it back to the cell without snapping back, without wrestling himself from Aris’s arms, and maybe he’d be left alone. 

“Or maybe, if you don’t stop squirming, I’ll change my mind about your medication,” Aris grinned. “How’s that sound?” 

Those words were enough to shock Jackson motionless. The pain was hardly bearable with the medication, let alone without it. 

“That’s not even enough to get a word outta ya?” Aris snorted. “Aww. How cute. Need me to put something else on the line? A cornea? A lung?” 

“No, no, please, I’ll— I’ll stay still,” Jackson stammered fervently, his heart hammering in his chest. The world swam before his eyes, the hall warping like the reflection in a funhouse mirror. The drugs— fuck—had they changed the drugs? Had Aris stabbed him with something in the midst of his terror? 

He flailed limply against his captor’s touch, strength draining by the second, and all that came from his effort was a pathetic twitch. His vision swam with spots, until all he could see was a faint prick of light. 

A stinging pain crossed his face, the sensation distant as if underwater. 

“Hawthorne?” 

Aris had slapped him. 

“Come on, you know I didn’t mean it. Don’t make me have to go get Ryder for this. Snap out of it.” 

Jackson gasped for breath, the words floating above his head, practically meaningless. 

“B-but… y’… you…” he slurred, grasping at the IV with useless, trembling fingers. “Fuck you…” 

His world swirled to black before he could complete the thought. 

~~

Pain rocketed through his side, and he took a desperate pull of air, the gasp tapering into a choked whimper at the sheer force of his agony. He reached for the IV on instinct, wrist tugging sharply against the cuff digging into his skin. But when he caught a glimpse of his arm, vision swimming, there was nothing but the bruises the needle had left behind. 

He was back in the bed, glancing wildly around the room again like his life was some sick tape being rewound by the gods. 

But this time, Aris and Ryder stood at his bedside, bickering. 

“D’you think it was laced?” 

Aris’s voice sounded distant, unreachable. Jackson’s head was stuffed with fistfuls of cotton. 

“I tested it. I told you I tested every last drop. God, if you’ve worked yourself up when the kid’s just having a panic attack…”

“He passed out in my arms like I’d shot him with a double dose of propofol, if that was his panic response we gotta make sure he doesn’t drop dead the next time we fucking scare him.” 

“I’ll run a CT scan if that makes you feel better, then I’m going the fuck back to bed,” Ryder huffed. “Make sure he stays alive for the night and if we need to, we’ll drop him back to mommy and daddy a few days early so he’s not our problem anymore.” 

A renewed stab of agony wrenched through his abdomen, and a weak cry escaped Jackson’s lips. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, grasping at the IV that wasn’t there, clawing mindlessly at his own arm as if the medication might just appear if he hoped hard enough. 

Ryder rolled his eyes, ignoring the expression of pain. “Aris, can you just carry him? I don’t feel like rooting around for a wheelchair.”

Jackson felt himself being lifted a moment later, Aris’s hand under his back and his other arm wrapped around his leg. His side throbbed at the simple movement, and his vision tunneled nearly into black. He gasped for breath through a strained whimper, desperate to cling to his last scrap of consciousness. 

Yet he was half-lucid at best as he was carried down the halls, stuck in that heavy, dizzy underwater feeling from before. He dimly registered being set down on a table, cold metal beneath his neck. He grasped for Aris’s warmth before he could help it, unable to stop himself amidst the way his head spun. 

He heard Aris scoff, sneering out some comment that Jackson couldn’t quite make out. The words blended in an incoherent stream of sound, one that mixed with the lower, sharper register of Ryder’s voice a few moments later. He flinched violently as the table slowly moved forward, his throbbing abdomen screaming in protest. 

A dim light flashed for a moment against his eyelids, a mechanical beeping grating at his eardrums. He was left alone for a while with nothing but that terrible monotony and the slow motion of the table, his side pulsing in tandem with the noise, as if a fire blazed in the incision and someone pumped the bellows every time the damn beep sounded. 

And as soon as blissful silence replaced the machine’s noises, his eardrums were assaulted once more. 

“Fuck!” Ryder blurted across the hall, the sharp syllable slipping through the thick haze clouding Jackson’s mind. 

“Aris, you’ve gotta take a look at this. Something’s…” 

Either his words trailed into silence, or Jackson’s brain had simply stopped processing sound again— both outcomes were just as likely.   

“What the hell is that? A fucking tumor? How could you not see that while you were wiggling your knives around inside him?” Aris snapped. “You’re a fucking surgeon. A real one! Maybe I’d believe that coming from the dick I used to partner with, kinda guy who had to go for a few practice runs before he could scrounge up something sellable. But you? Come on.” 

“A what?!” Jackson cried, hands instinctively flying up to the incision. 

Footsteps approached him from every angle, and he heard a faint beep before the table slowly pulled itself backwards, a faint sound of protest escaping his lips. A hand, too rough to be Aris’s, traced the incision through the bandages, and Jackson swallowed the cry that threatened to rip from his throat. He cracked his eyes open to confirm it was Ryder standing over him, examining him in the way a sadistic child crouches over a pinned butterfly with a magnifying glass. 

After a moment of scrutinizing, Ryder just shrugged. 

“I mean, it didn’t really look like a tumor, but it’s either that or he had an extra kidney back there,” he said nonchalantly. “The transplant was successful and the recipient is fine, so it’s not like I left anything behind. Definitely didn’t cut something else off, or he’d already be lost to internal bleeding.” 

Jackson’s chest clenched with every word, his heart a rapid knife against his lungs. 

Yet in the midst of it all, he only wanted to know one thing. 

“Who got it?” 

He was met with another shrug. 

“Don’t know, don’t care. I sell it off to the highest bidder, and they can boil and eat it for all the fucks I give. This one just happened to want to stay in touch so they could blame me the second something went wrong.” 

Jackson shuddered at the grisly image, the movement sending a fresh stab of agony through his side. “Is— is it cancerous? Is it gonna kill me?” 

Before Ryder could confirm Jackson’s impending doom, Aris stepped in and shushed him, finger to his lips and all. 

“Give him a minute, man. If he’s not dying already, you don’t want his heart to grind to a halt from your worst-case horror stories.” 

A third, resigned shrug. 

“Fine. But there’s clearly something in there.”

The door slammed shut a moment later, and Jackson was left alone with who he could hardly deem the lesser of the evils. Less dangerous, maybe. But less evil? He wouldn’t let himself be fooled for a second. 

The almost-lesser evil looked at him with what could almost be described as sympathy. Or maybe the drugs had gotten to Jackson’s head. 

“I’ll be back in a few. Try to sit up. Or don’t. Payday’s already come and gone.”

Sound had become foreign once again, Aris’s words taking on that distant, underwater feeling. Jackson groaned softly as he gathered his hands behind him, pushing himself up to sit on the edge of the table despite the way his side screamed in protest. His vision swirled for a moment, before settling like sand in the bottom of a glass— composed, but still grainy and somehow wrong. He sat in front of a scratched, dented scanner that resembled a massive donut. The room was full of various pieces of equipment, most beaten or worn down in some way or another, and otherwise barren but for the small set of cabinets shoved in a corner. 

Unsurprisingly, it was devoid of any color but for the rusty splotches seeping through his bandages. 

Before he could contemplate the likelihood of dying young, Aris strode back through the door, plopping down next to him on the table. 

“So. How we feelin’?” 

Jackson gritted his teeth. 

“Thought you said you didn’t care,” he muttered. 

Aris rolled his eyes. “I don’t. But unfortunately, Ryder’s gone back off to catch his beauty sleep so I’m stuck with keeping you alive ‘til morning. So if something’s like, crazy wrong, speak now or, I don’t know, suffer all night.” 

“Other than being down a whole organ, and, I don’t know, having a fucking tumor?” Jackson spat. “Yeah, I’m fine. Couldn’t be better.”

Aris raised his eyebrows and gave him a twisted grin. “If you insist, then,” he said nonchalantly. “So if you really don’t need anything—”

“Wait!” Fuck.

“What’s up?” Aris said cheerfully, an obvious flash of triumph permeating his gaze. 

“My uh, my bandages are soaking through,” he mumbled. “I— uh—”

“Hm? Speak up, love. It’s been a long day,” Aris taunted. 

“I need help with my bandages,” he finally bit out, hot humiliation crawling up his face. “I’m, uh, I’m bleeding through them.” 

 He squirmed in the following silence as Aris’s gaze set to the similar, scrutinizing expression Ryder had worn mere minutes ago. His captor pursed his lips after a long, agonizing moment and slid off the table. He pulled open a drawer and tossed a pack of gauze in Jackson’s direction, followed by a roll of medical tape. 

“Knock yourself out.” 

Jackson gritted his teeth and focused on changing the bandages, ignoring the jab. He’d clearly have to wait until Aris was in a better mood to ask for food or water. 

He pinched the edge of the tape keeping the gauze in place, already peeled up from when he’d peeked at the incision earlier. His eyes squeezed shut as his breath caught in his throat, his whole body recoiling from what had to be done. Aris watched amusedly, leaning back against the wall and giving Jackson a sickening smirk. He couldn’t ask for help. He couldn’t. 

He ripped the bandage off with a muffled cry, the wound’s stabbing drowning out the sting to his skin. He refused to glance up at the look on Aris’s face. That’s what the bastard wants. 

Instead, he pointedly kept his gaze fixed on the incision, the wound red and raw and just as haphazardly stitched as before. Blood seeped between the stitches, having soaked the dirty bandage he discarded on the other side of the table. He’d never dressed a wound before, let alone his own. But at least it looked pretty simple— cover the wound with gauze, tape over it to keep everything in place, and try not to think about it until the bloodstains came back. 

Yet as simple as it should have been, his hands shook even opening the package of gauze. His own blood coated his fingertips where he’d touched the old bandages, and the sight made his head spin. He made the mistake of glancing up at Aris’s demeaning little grin, and his face flushed hot and red once more. 

He had to do this himself. He had to. 

“You don’t know what you’re doing.” Aris’s voice, holding a bare yet unmistakable touch of mockery, cut through the room’s almost painful silence. “Let me help you.” 

“For what? A square inch of skin? A cornea? A lap dance?” Jackson huffed. “No thanks.”

“I mean, I was just gonna help you so we wouldn’t be here all night. But if you insist on giving something in return, I suppose something could be arranged…”

“In your dreams,” Jackson snapped. But he didn’t refuse when Aris slipped the pack of gauze from his hands and began packing the wound, and even fought not to pull away as the pressure on the incision gave way to a fresh surge of agony. He just grit his teeth, closed his eyes, and didn’t look again until he felt the tape smothering his skin, sealing off the ugly, gaping thing in his side from the rest of the world.

“You’re adorable,” Aris smirked. “Can’t even watch. Now, do you think you can handle walking back or do I need to carry you again?” 

Jackson glanced at the door and tried to recall how long he’d been carried for, but he came up with nothing but the blurred, dizzying sense of being carried itself, for what had seemed like forever. 

“You didn’t change the drugs?” he asked warily. “Like, at all?” 

Aris nodded. “Whatever that little episode was, it was one hundred percent you and whatever fucked up stress response that body has to offer. So, if you wanna risk that again, be my guest. It’s up to you.” 

Jackson braced himself on the edge of the table for a moment before sliding off the edge, leaning on the cool metal for support as he stood on shaky, rubbery legs. The walk couldn’t have been more than a minute. He could do this. 

“I’ll be fine,” he managed unconvincingly. 

Aris shrugged. “Interesting definition of fine, but that’s your call. Just know I’ll be there to catch you.” He gave a devious wink, although Jackson could have gathered his humiliating intent without the expression. By now, he knew practically every word Aris directed towards him was meant for nothing less. 

“Thanks for the offer,” Jackson said flatly. He took one trembling step, pain stabbing through his side like a white-hot knife, and gritted his teeth. Another step, and the pain nearly brought him to his knees. His vision swam, and he grasped blindly for the table next to him, breathless from the sheer agony. Tears sprang to his eyes, even as he furiously blinked them away. 

“Are you sure a wheelchair’s out of the question?” He attempted, voice breaking. “I just— I don’t— I don’t know if I can make it.”

Aris rolled his eyes. “You either walk, I drag you kicking and screaming, or you let yourself be carried like a good boy. Up to you.” 

So he’d have to make it. Jackson clenched his free hand into a fist, gripped the table for dear life, and took another step. Fire rocketed through his side, and his legs crumpled beneath him as he flailed to catch himself on the table. But before he could collapse, Aris caught him under the arms, pulling him close against his body to keep him upright. 

“That answers that question, then,” Aris said pleasantly. 

And as much as Jackson wanted to protest, he let himself be hauled off his feet once more, the world tilting familiarly. 

“I’m starting to think you just like carrying me,” Jackson muttered. 

Aris dug his fingers mere inches from the bandage, just close enough to send Jackson’s heart into overdrive. One tiny twist of his hand, and he’d be seeing stars. “And I’m starting to think you just like crumpling to the ground,” he retorted. 

Jackson’s lips pursed into a thin line of pain and annoyance, his side stabbing with every step his captor took, but he let the comment go. He had more important concerns.

“Do I— do I still get the meds? When I get back?” 

Laced or not, he needed them. 

Aris hummed noncommittally. “Depends. What’ll you do to get them?” 

Anything. 

“Please. Aris, I—”

“And being a compliant little wimp doesn’t count as doing something, it just means I won’t be inclined to take a lung for my troubles.”

A sob caught in Jackson’s chest, his eyes welling in desperation. “You know it’s nothing you can’t already make me do anyway,” he said desperately, voice close to breaking. “Please, I just— I can’t— I’m not gonna make it through the night—”

Aris shifted Jackson in his grip as he approached his room, the movement enough to send a fresh bolt of fire through his body. He couldn’t suppress the hiss of pain that escaped him, the way his breath hitched as his world flashed white for the briefest moment. Aris simply pressed his hand to the pad outside the door and waited as the bolts unlatched one by one, unbothered by the display. 

“It’s up to you, Hawthorne. It makes no difference to me, if I leave you dry ‘til morning. You’ve gotta make me want to go through the trouble.” 

Jackson gritted his teeth, swallowing the cry that threatened to rip from his throat. “Ryder has my vitals up, doesn’t he? He won’t get a fucking wink of sleep if I rip off the sensors and the monitor goes flat.” He snapped. “Or you’d just cuff me to the bed then, right? I’ll just hold my breath ‘til my heart rate spikes— can’t tie me down from fucking breathing.” His head spun even from the effort of the outburst, but he was done rolling over and playing dead. He was done letting Aris win.

Yet the smirk his captor gave him in return told him he’d done just that.

“You think Ryder’s got your back in this?” Aris scoffed, kicking the door closed behind him and dumping Jackson on the bed with a vicious shove. “He’ll just turn the damn alarm off and hope you don’t die on him in the meantime. And if he’s gonna be pissed at you keeping him up all night, he’ll just stick you with a paralytic for the day so you can’t fucking do it again. Not a painkiller, Hawthorne. Not a sedative. A fucking paralytic. Make you sit there all day, in agony, unable to do a fucking thing about it. We’d have to intubate you again, too. I remember just how much you loved that, didn’t you? And if Ryder doesn’t give a shit, I’ll do it myself. Rip out all the monitors, the meds, all of it. Shove a few tubes down your throat, hope you’ll last the day and that whatever it is floating around behind that incision isn’t cancerous, and I won’t look back. Maybe you’ll appreciate my attention more after that, hm?”

The color drained from Jackson’s face, but he pushed himself upright, wincing at the fresh stabs of pain through his side, and steeled his gaze. 

“Fine,” he snapped. “I’ll go dry. Can’t comply, can’t fight back, can’t offer a fucking thing you can’t already take. Is that what you want?” 

Aris almost looked disappointed. “Not even close,” he said darkly. “I want to see just how far you’re willing to go for me. And if that’s not far enough right now, then sure, you’ll go without tonight. But I’m sure you’ll be much more desperate in the morning, and then we’ll get to try again. How’s that sound?” 

“I— I just— I don’t know what you want from me!” Jackson spluttered. “What, you want me to like, get on my knees and beg? Just start sobbing about how much it fucking hurts? What do you want?” 

The touch to his face was so gentle it could have been a ghost’s, a whisper of Aris’s fingertips tracing up his jaw. Jackson shuddered in spite of himself, fighting the urge to slap his captor’s hand away.

“Begging is a nice start, sure, but it doesn’t have to be that. Tell me why your system cuts the drugs so quickly. We both know there’s some dark secret in there. One of your parents, maybe, an addiction so brutal they passed on the tolerance? Or maybe one of the scenarios you so quickly rejected before? All I ask is that you tell me the truth. Make it hurt a little.” 

Tears burned at the corners of Jackson’s eyes, and he barely managed to blink them back. “You know I don’t know that,” he choked. “Do you want me to lie? Just make some shit up so you have another reason to think I deserve this?” 

Aris‘s hand trailed up his face until he’d tangled his fingers in Jackson’s hair, tugging gently to tilt his head back until he was forced to meet his eyes. The tenderness of the touch made Jackson wish he’d just cut him open instead. Or drugged him. Or hit him. Anything but this sick facade of intimacy.

“You don’t deserve this, Hawthorne,” he said simply. “Let’s make that clear. You’re just here ‘cause I fucked up a job and needed the money, and ‘cause Ryder only works on people he thinks deserves it, which amounts to pretty much anyone with a background like yours. But this is where we’re at, and you either get the meds or not. It’s up to you.” 

“I don’t have any secrets,” Jackson snapped, jerking away from the man’s lingering touch. “You’ve seen my family’s dirty laundry in the tabloids, and as for me? They keep me on such a tight leash I’m almost impressed you managed to kidnap me. You think I’d go to university in my fucking hometown if I had another option? You want a secret? I don’t have enough of a life to have anything to hide, unless you count the fact that I got a fucking job. How’s that?”

“Pathetic,” Aris said honestly. “Maybe not life changing enough to count, but pathetic. Ever tried to run away?” 

Jackson shrugged. “Not until I graduate, at least. I’m not taking out loans when the other option is withstanding their bullshit but getting it for free, yknow? Not like it matters now, I guess. If I actually am dying.” 

“Like I said before, Ryder’s a real surgeon. He hates your guts, sure, but he knows he’ll be running the rest of his life if you die on him. Don’t worry about it.” 

“Don’t worry about it?” Jackson snapped. “I’ve got a fucking tumor where I should have a kidney and you’re telling me don’t worry about it? I heard you in the operating room, when I woke up. About keeping my lungs healthy in case you end up wanting one. You’re fucking sick. Don’t tell me I’m gonna be okay unless you fucking plan to keep me that way” 

“I won’t, then,” Aris said icily. “It’s in our best interest to keep you alive, but in reality, who knows? I’m not a doctor, Hawthorne, I can’t tell you shit. For all I know, you might drop dead tomorrow. But for now, you haven’t earned your medication and I’m bored and wanna know more about your life. No begging required. What do you say?” 

“Fine,” Jackson mumbled. “But I told you already, you’re not gonna get anything interesting. And can we throw in some food with the deal?” The clawing at his stomach had almost gone unnoticed compared to the stabbing under the incision, but it had been growing harder and harder to ignore. 

“We’ll see,” Aris said. “I’m going on a grocery run in the morning, I’ll grab something then. Ryder doesn’t live here or anything, but I’ve paid off the mob thanks to your kidney and I have no interest in going back. Which means that’s all coming out of my paycheck.” 

“You’re not gonna keep me alive very long if you refuse to feed me,” Jackson muttered. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not that stupid,” Aris said. He sat down on the edge of the cot, and Jackson couldn’t help but shrink back against the bedrail, curling his legs to his chest and feeling around for the torn shirt he’d rejected earlier. 

“Now. Where do ya wanna begin?” he continued. “How about your job? The one secret you’ve managed to keep in your sheltered little life.” 

“Not much to it,” Jackson said reluctantly, tugging the shirt over his head and biting back a hiss of pain. The throbbing in his side flared violently with the movement, but if nothing else, the conversation was a distraction. Not exactly a welcome one, but better than sitting in unmedicated silence, he supposed. “24/7 diner, night shift, minimum wage. Had to pick a place my folks wouldn’t dream of stepping foot in if their lives depended on it.” 

“The one right by the university?” 

He nodded. 

“So you have to serve your classmates?”

Jackson winced. “Yeah. Uh, a lot. It sucks.” 

“It’s demeaning, isn’t it?” Aris said quietly. The offensive edge had fallen from his voice, into false, sickly sweet sympathy. 

“Yeah. Which I guess should fulfill the ‘tell me something embarrassing’ requirement, right? Am I done?” 

“Tell me a story. A specific one. Then maybe you’ll be off the hook.” The sharp, taunting edge was back, complete with the trademark smirk. 

Jackson twisted the hem of the old undershirt, contemplating for a moment. 

“How bad does it have to be?” 

“The worst you have, if you’re giving me a choice,” Aris grinned. “You should know not to ask those kinds of questions.” 

He sighed, rubbing his eyes and grabbing the thin pillow to hug it close. “How about the time I almost got roofied, then? That good enough?” 

“And you said you don’t have any secrets,” Aris taunted. “I’ll say that’s worth a good ten milligrams. Lower end of the dosage for an eight hour IV drip, but it should be enough to get you through the night. So that’s up to you, I guess, if it’s worth it.” 

He nodded. At this point, he might have taken the offer even for a handful of ibuprofen. “To be clear, this is the only remotely interesting thing that’s happened to me. So if you want me to one-up this for the next dose, I can either choose a different story now or start lying.” 

Aris nodded expectantly.

“So. Uh. This guy from my chem class, he comes in around 2 am, fucking hammered. Ordered maybe five plates of hash browns and a coffee. He inhaled the food in minutes but ended up nursing the one coffee for a whole hour ‘til my shift ended. He’d paid when he ordered, so I sorta knew he was just waiting for a shot at me. And yeah, uh, guy asked to buy me a drink the second I clocked out. No tip on the table, just an offer to cover something strong at the bar across the street. I’m not stupid, but it’d been a long night and I wanted at least my tip’s worth out of him, so I accepted. Ordered the most expensive thing on the board, kept my eyes glued to it the second it left the bartender’s hand, and left a hefty tip ‘cause god knows the asshole wasn’t going to.”

Why was he actually telling him this? It would have been just as easy to make something up, something that didn’t make his heart race and his stomach churn. He forced in a shaky breath, his side stabbing in protest, and continued in spite of himself. 

“I keep test strips on me at all times, I’m not an idiot. I tested the drink, it came out fine, I took a few sips. The guy had been trying to flirt with me the second we walked into that place, but it was like a switch had flipped as soon as I’d tested it. He started getting all weird, affectionate, almost desperate. Kept trying to kiss me, distract me, all that. He got up to order another drink, and I booked it. A few days later, I heard he’d roofied a girl at the same bar. Woulda been me if I wasn’t as careful.” 

And maybe if it had been him, he wouldn’t be here. If he’d gotten drugged, had to own up with his parents about it because he was still on their health insurance, started pressing charges. They would have practically kept him under lock and key, but their control was preferable to this. At least that way, he would have stayed intact, even if not unviolated. He wiped away a stray tear with the palm of his hand, praying Aris wouldn’t notice, or if nothing else, wouldn’t comment. 

“Aww,” Aris sneered. And that’s really your only experience with the real world? Almost getting hurt, but everything turns out fine? Going back to class like a good boy?” 

Jackson gritted his teeth. “Sure. Yeah. Whatever.” 

“So tell me. You felt pretty helpless then, didn’t you, praying for a moment to slip away? Is it worse now than it was then?” Aris’s eyes practically glittered with delight. 

“Yeah. It is,” he spat. “You happy? What would you expect, that anything other than this could be the worst moment of my life? Not much tops being kidnapped and having a fucking organ harvested, if that’s what you wanna hear. You’ve singlehandedly created the worst week of my life. You win, if you call that winning.” The words dripped sarcastically from his lips, their venom the only defense he had left.  

“I mean, not quite singlehandedly,” Aris admitted mockingly. “But I’m flattered. That is exactly what I wanted to hear. Or not really— just anything that gets you like this. On the brink of tears, desperate, while your mind’s too clouded by pain to think about what you’re saying. Admitting just how weak you are in the mere hope I’ll take pity. And lucky for you, Hawthorne, you’ve got a gorgeous set of puppy eyes.” He slid off the bed like Jackson hadn’t spilled his soul just seconds ago, grabbing the IV pole and wheeling it towards the cot.

“There’s maybe 15 milligrams left in that drip, I’ll call it close enough. Makes up for my inability to find a vein.” 

True to his word, Aris delivered a couple extra sticks before the tube was injected, but the pain of the needle was nothing compared to the stabbing in his side. And by the time his captor had secured the line with a bit of tape, the drip had started, bringing a rush of much-needed oblivion. He sank into the cot out of sheer relief as the throbbing dulled to an ache, as his desperation dulled to tranquility. And out of his mouth slipped the two words he knew Aris never deserved to hear from him.

“Thank you.” 

~~

Taglist: @burnticedlatte @onlywhump @whumplr-reader @gala1981 @its-my-primary-whump @andithewhumper @morning-star-whump

[sheabuttahwrites]

in the Morning

story masterlist Shea Buttah Bakery Masterlist

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sounds// Peabo Bryson - Feel The Fire, Isley Brothers - Spend the Night (Ce Soir), The O'Jays - Forever Mine

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IV.

“Oh, shit. What’s up?” He smiled back and it was even more killer in person. Especially with the surprise of gleaming gold fangs and the matching slugs I could see peeking from behind his bottom lip. I had to remind myself to breathe. “You came.”

“I told you I was on the way.”

“Nah, I thought you was fucking with me.” Laughter took over the conversation as he opened the door a bit wider, stepping aside. “Come on in.”

Hell, I could barely believe I’d shown up myself. I had never really been shy, but he’d brought a boldness out of me that even I hadn’t seen.

When I passed him, I noticed that he was still significantly taller than me in four inch heels. Damn. Not like I wasn't overdue for a climbing lesson anyway. The scent of his cologne was also quite alluring. The woody, smoky fragrance pervaded my senses, warming all the spots that shot had missed. Of course he would smell just as good as he looked. He may not have believed I would be there tonight, but he had damn sure been prepared. 

“I can take your jacket.” 

“Oh, sure.” I went to slip it from my shoulders, but he circled behind me and took the collar into his hands. 

“Here, I got you.” 

Taken aback by his unexpected chivalry, I was stuck watching him walk back to the closet to carefully put it away. 

“This is dope. The gold on here go crazy.”

“Right? I thought the same thing. Had to have it.”

“Good choice.” He grinned as he strolled back over to me. “I like your whole get-up, though. You look good, girl.” The intensity he radiated in person was unreal. His blinding smile. Those piercing brown eyes. The once-over he gave me felt like he was sexing me up already. 

Of course, I was a flustered mess. “Thank you.”

“What’s in the bag?”

I held up my bottle for him to see. “Wine. Actually, could I put it in your fridge?”

“Yeah.” He reached for it, so I gave it to him. Then he nodded to the left. “This way.” 

We left the foyer and I followed him past a gorgeous living area, subtly admiring my surroundings. The height of the ceilings had caught my attention right away. All of it was stunning. Far from the bare walls, futon, and flat screens I had half expected. Off white walls and dark wood floors made up the most of it, but the decor was so sophisticated and refined. I’d already clocked a painting and coffee table that I wanted for myself. I could tell it had been carefully curated. I should've known he would give nothing less. We walked through an arched doorway into a kitchen that made me feel like cooking for some strange reason. Just like everything else I’d seen, it looked like something from a magazine. Shades of gray, black, white and green complemented each other well among all the satiny stainless steel. There were even fresh tulips sitting in the middle of the island. I was giving one of them a smell when he came over, leaning up against the marble counter with me. 

“I put it in the freezer for you.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem.” Having to look up was already doing something different for me, but the way he was smiling down at me made it so much worse. Prolonged eye contact was his thing, I’d already gathered. It felt like he was staring into my soul. Whew! “I’m glad you came.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Not every day something this fine just lands on your doorstep.”

My head dropped into a faint laugh. “Baby, you ain't gotta butter me up. I’m already here.”

“I ain't tryna do nothing of the sort. I meant what I said.”

“Ok. So, you just be up in here by yourself?”

“Most of the time, yeah.”

I smacked my lips, less than convinced. “Yeah, aight.”

“You a trip,” he chuckled.

“Nah, you the one.”

“How?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry ‘bout it,” I said, grinning as I waved him off. 

“I got no reason to lie, mama. Like you said, you already here.” He wet his bottom lip before moving his eyes down my body once more. I shuddered. “I really don’t be having company like that, though. I know it might not seem like it, but I’m usually a pretty private person. I don’t like too many people in my business.”

“So, why you breaking all your rules for me then?”

“I don’t know…” He leaned a little closer. “Just something about you.” 

I rolled my eyes through the inevitable smile that followed his and that sly admission. “You know what, I know I just gave it to you to put away, but could I pour myself a glass?”

“Oh, yeah. Fasho.” He walked back over to the freezer and pulled out my bottle. Then he went to a cabinet for a wine glass before taking an electric corkscrew from a drawer. Once the bottle was open, he stepped back, presenting it all to me with an outstretched hand. 

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

I poured myself a big glass, just low enough to prevent any spills while I walked.

“You only brought one glass. You don't want any?” 

“Nah. I’m more of a Hennessy man, myself.”

“Aah, ok.”

“I can put it back for you, though.”

“I think I’ma just keep it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, this is good enough.”

“Aight.” He reclaimed his position at the island. “So, um, I feel like you breaking some of your rules for me, too.” 

“…Maybe,” I said, after finishing a big sip. 

“How you get so brave?”

I frowned. “Why you saying that like you about to chop me up and plaster me into your walls?”

“Damn, girl.” I cracked at the sudden shock that appeared on his face and we laughed so hard. “I’m just saying. You know women ain’t safe out here. Especially Black women.”

“Yeah, my girl wanted me to stay home real bad. But I don't know. Sometimes you just gotta take a chance. Plus, you didn't give me serial killer vibes. Didn’t see a windowless van on the premises either, sooo…”

His smile was beaming as we shared another laugh. “You funny.”

I shrugged a shoulder, preparing for my next sip. “So I’ve been told.”

He waited for me to finish before he motioned his head toward where we had just come from. “Come on.” Then he turned to walk off, and, once again, I followed. 

“And, anyway, for all you know, I could be crazy.”

Without hesitation, he replied, “Oh, I can take you.”

I gasped in false disbelief. “Excuse you. I could have weapons of mass destruction.”

“What? Like a chainsaw?” 

He glanced back at me as we neared the stairs and I busted out laughing. “Now that wasn't even me. My girl put that one in my head.”

“What she think, I’m Leatherface?”

“Shit, you never know nowadays.”

“You ‘bout right. But you can let her know you in good hands.”

“I figured as much.”

He smiled, stopping at the stairs. “After you,” he said, holding his arm out for me to step ahead of him.  

After giving him my bottle, I grabbed the glass railing with my freed hand. I made my way up the curved staircase, swaying my little bit of booty in case he was watching, and losing count of how many steps I was taking. 

“You better catch me if I fall.”

“I got you.” I laughed to myself as we finally reached the top. I waited for him to take the lead again and he came around me, settling his hand on my waist. “This way, mama.”

A floral, citrusy scent met me as soon as I stepped into his bedroom. Probably from the candles lit in various spots all around it. They also provided the light, along with two lamps on the wall framing the head of his bed. “It smells so good in here.”

“I tried to hook it up for you a lil bit.”

“I like it.” The click of my heels on his gray hardwood floors was briefly muted as I strutted onto an oversized circular rug en route to his bed. The couch was nice and spacious, but the bed was much more inviting. The comforter looked cloudlike and the corner of the sheet that was exposed looked fresh. It was huge, too. Likely out of necessity. I sat on the edge and stared over at the window wall across from me as I took a feel. It was just as comfortable as I’d presumed, maybe even more. “Why you way over there? You got—what you called me?—‘something this fine’ all in your bed, and you just gon’ stand there?”

He smiled. “Yeah. That’s what I said.”

“Come here then.”

“You on my side, though,” he teased, swaggering toward me in his crisp white tee and gray joggers.

I kicked my shoes off before sliding myself to the opposite side. “Better?”

“Much.” He came over and sat against the fluted headboard as I sat just a couple feet away from him. At that point, I took my phone from my purse and killed the power. I was not about to let anybody spoil my night. “What kind of music you like?”

“I’m an R&B junkie.”

“Ok.” He picked up his phone, plugged up on the table beside him. “Let me guess. 90’s and early 2000’s, right?”

“Duh! I love my oldies, too, though.”

“Word?”

“Yes. I spent the first fourteen years of my life almost exclusively with my grandparents. They blessed me.”

“Ok. What you know about this then?” After a couple taps, ‘Spend The Night’ by The Isley Brothers began to play. 

“Boy, what? This my shit.” 

“…You grooving your ass off, this really your shit.”

I howled, because I hadn’t even realized. Maybe it was the near-emptiness of my glass that had my shoulders and waist moving without my knowledge. 

“Anyway. So, what’s your favorite genre?”

“My music taste kinda eclectic. I like a lil bit of everything.”

“Like what?”

“Funk. Bounce. Jazz.”

“Okayyy.”

“R&B,” he continued, making sure to look me in the eye for that one. “House.”

“Ooh, I love House.”

“Yeah. But that’s just a few.”

I nodded. “Ok, next question.”

“What’s up?”

“Why you sit my bottle so far awaaaay?” I whined, staring longingly toward his dresser as I went to leave the bed. He laughed. 

“My bad. I’ll get it for you.”

“I’m just messing with you. I got it.” I walked over to fill my glass again, bobbing my head to my jam. 

“You mind if I smoke?”

“This your place, baby. You can do whatever you want.”

“Yeah, but you my guest. And, if I’m a bad host, you might not wanna come back.”

I squinted up at him, twisting my lips to try and hide my smile, but it didn't work. The charm was just too potent. “It’s cool. Spark up.”

“Aight.” 

He leaned over and reached into his top drawer for this little box. I couldn't see inside it, but he pulled out a pre-rolled joint and I just assumed that there were more. This nigga was a stoner in the truest sense. 

The level of my glass was starting to fall again and the wine had to be going straight to my feet. Instead of returning to my seat, I opted for a cute little two-step and a couple of slow spins, quietly singing along with Mr. Biggs and Angela Winbush between sips. The song sounded better than it ever had. 

“I’m glad I chose this cut.” 

I opened my eyes to see that Yahya had changed his position, lying back on his elbows at the edge of the bed and facing me. It took all I had to keep it together. My face was on fire. “Why?”

He smacked his lips at me and took a long drag from the J. I giggled as he aimed his face toward the ceiling to release the smoke, promptly sucking it back into his mouth before it could get away. “I think you know why.” He brought his eyes back down to mine, smiling while smoke rolled from his lips and nose. 

I returned his smile. Of course I knew. “What that shit taste like?”

“You never smoked before?” he asked with a wrinkled brow.

“Nope. I told you I didn't smoke, remember?”

“Yeah, I know. But you never?”

I shook my head. “Not even once.”

“You wanna try it?”

I bit the inside of my lip, not really sure if I should. The scent of weed was something I usually just tolerated, but this didn’t smell too bad. Either that or my fascination with this man had me highly delusional. Probably. “Mmmm…” Fuck it. Might as well since I was taking a walk on the wild side for the night. Plus, I’d always wanted to try it at least once. Just to see what all the fuss was about. “Yeah.” I shrugged it off and left my glass on a nearby table, but then it hit me that I had been drinking. “Wait. Should I be doing this with alcohol?”

“It ain’t gon’ do nothing to you.”

“But am I really supposed to mix the two?”

He just sat up and reached for me, signaling me over with his fingers. “C’mere.”

I sighed, quelling most of my concerns and taking his hand. He didn’t let me make a single step, pulling me right into his hard chest. He hurried his arm around my waist as my screaming morphed into shared laughs. “Oh my god, don’t do that!” I looked down into his eyes, resting my arms on his shoulders to help get my bearings. The laughter soon faded. Smiles went next. 

“Mmmm,” he groaned, biting his lip with those gold fangs on full display. 

That same breathless feeling that had hit me at my computer, smacked the shit out of me again. Just a hundred times stronger. Seeing his brand of fine this close up was devastating. Everything that looked so damn good from afar held all of its integrity and then some. The beard, the lips, the skin, the teeth. Truly immaculate.

“Youuu… are dangerous.” I capped the sentiment with a giggle, but I was not joking. 

He frowned with a telling grin in the forefront. “What? I’m harmless.” The elevation in his tone further confirmed the lies.

I pushed myself back up to my feet, flustered as fuck and almost hating how he could make me this way so effortlessly. I really had no idea I was so foldable and, though the circumstances were lovely, I didn’t know how to feel about it.

“Fuck that.” 

He laughed and held the joint up to my lips. “Go slow.”

I looked at it and then back to him, still slightly unsure, but I went ahead. The regret was instant. I choked, coughing up what little smoke I had brought in. And, to make matters worse, he had the nerve to be laughing while I was fighting for my life. 

“Naaah, not like that.”

I shook my hanging head. “That’s ok. I don't want to anymore,” I said, fanning myself and trying to catch my breath.

“Come on. I got you.”

I smacked my lips, looking into his half-lidded eyes with my own, and caved without an ounce of pause. Shameful. “...Ok. But, if I don't get it this time, I’m done. And don't laugh.”

“Aight, aight. I won’t laugh.”

“You better not,” I teased, rolling my eyes. 

He brought that shit up to my lips again, but, this time, he rested his free hand on my hip. I didn't pay it much mind. I was more focused on preparing myself for this second pull that was probably about to kill me.

“Go slow.”

I followed his instructions and took a relaxed drag. But I forgot to stop, and this nigga just let me keep going. My eyes popped when I realized what I had done. I stood there, cheeks puffed to the brim, not knowing what the hell to do. Again, Yahya was cracking up. I, on the other hand, started to freak out, groaning frantically and tapping at his arm.

“Just open your mouth, girl.” 

I opened up and the smoke billowed out and began to float away. 

“Now catch it. Inhale.” 

I did what I was told once again and watched as some of it disappeared back into my mouth.

“Ok, hold it… now breathe.”

I let go and, surprisingly, all of it came out without me bringing a lung up with it. “I did it!” I beamed, celebrating my first successful puff of Mary.

“Started off a lil rocky, but you finished strong.” I laughed with him, feeling too triumphant to check him for rejoicing in my struggles. “You wanna hit it again?” he asked, after taking another puff. 

I nodded. I felt like I had it down, but I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t a fluke. If I could do it two times in a row, that meant I could really do it. Feeling myself, I even took it from his hand when he brought it over to me. 

“Oh, shit. Ok. You a pro now, huh?”

I was too tickled, but in the merriment I still noticed that he had led his newly unoccupied hand down to my other hip. He kneaded his fingers into me, getting a nice, thorough feel. Naturally, my mind began to wander, imagining all the filthy, disgusting things he could do to me with those huge hands. I looked down at him and he was already staring back. His face was the most relaxed it had been all night. He took his gaze down to where my thighs met and I would swear I heard my girl sigh. This man was so fucking sexy it was almost infuriating. I had to look away. I took another successful pull, reveling in all of this delectable sin, and he carefully slid his hands around to my ass. The pungent smell of weed had possessed the air, the taste of the flower and a little wine were sweet on my tongue, and the sensual poetry of love songs gave us all the right directions. I couldn’t remember the last time I had been this bad. 

“How you feelin’?”

I opened my eyes, tilted my head and brought my hand up to mimic a chef’s kiss.

“See? Stick with me, I can show you some thangs.” I tucked what was left of the J between his lips and he hit it one last time before sitting it over in the ashtray. Then he pulled me closer. 

I smiled and bit my lip, gently placing my hands to his chest. When I started to back away, he smiled up at me and loosened his grip, but I could tell he didn't really want to let me go. 

“Where you goin’?”

I simply shook my head as I left his grasp. I just wanted to play around with him, make him chase me a little bit. The O’Jays were singing ‘Forever Mine’ and, somehow, I could feel it in my body. Whatever Yahya had for me, I was readyyy! I turned away and clutched the bottom of my shirt with both hands, pulling it up over my head and dropping it to the floor. Not a second later, I could see his reflection in the window standing from the bed. Off came his shirt in one swift motion as he walked, then I felt him slide up behind me. The chase was over. 

With his hands at my sides, I swayed to the hypnotizing melodies, savoring how good his bare skin felt next to mine. “I love this song.” I spoke quietly, fully entranced. My hands found their way to his, and the difference in size fucked me up even more. I was leading them around to where I needed them, when he latched onto the softness of my belly and started to move toward the window. I shuffled the short distance with him until I was standing directly in front of it. He eased his hold on me and grabbed my hand, placing it onto the glass a little above my head. I looked out over his backyard, wondering if any of his neighbors could see us. Part of me hoped someone could as he played around with the waist of my jeans, touching my skin in light whispers. He crept over to the button, undoing it, what felt to be, intentionally slow. My zipper came down at the same chilling pace. With parted lips, I looked toward his hand as I felt it slide into my pants. He started to rub my pussy over my panties and they soaked through on contact, trapping my next breath in my throat. 

“Say. How you like it, mama?” He easily caught the rhythm of my subtle grind. “You like slow and steady?” 

I scratched the glass with his hand still on top of mine, feeling his dick right against my ass. Flames flickered in the near-darkness, but, clearly, we were the hottest in the room. He moved my panties to the side and slipped through the flood until my clit was pounding into the tips of his fingers. A shy moan had barely made it past my lips when he sank them deep. I whimpered loudly, gripping his arm and bending my other hand into a fist, buckling under the pressure.

“Or you like that hood shit?” He brought his hand down from the window and fixed his arm across my chest, guiding me back into him while he clung to my breast. “Hm?”

I didn't answer. I wasn’t even breathing. Despite me being highly inebriated, my heart was about to beat out of my chest.

“Why you bein’ so quiet?” he finally asked, lips brushing sweetly against my ear. Then he laid a soft kiss just underneath it. “You said you came to fuck. Don’t get all shy on me now.” 

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