#i THINK i got everything into the proper tense

[listlesswhistle]

So, I made a thing. As I mentioned, I’ve been having a lot of fun making up my own rain world stuff, y’know, like an entire custom region. Well, you may have noticed that the bonus pictures of my notes included information on a couple things that didn’t show up in the forest. Namely, my iterator oc, One Thousand Silent Eyes.

Well, I’ve been possessed by the need to write a short ficlet about them discovering what happened to the canon iterators through finding broadcasts as they attempt to reestablish their long range communications.

I’ve discussed Silent Eyes in more detail over on @nerdydowntherabbithole‘s blog, and I don’t won’t to go over everything about them again, so here’s the main thing you need to know before reading: Silent Eyes operates as a sort of hivemind. They have multiple different bodies, each with their own unique copy of Silent Eyes, but they think and act as a single entity when together. This does become relevant occasionally in this ficlet, most often when they switch between “themself” and “themselves,” depending on whichever is appropriate. They will also occasionally reference actions performed by different bodies happening at the same or similar time, as they see themselves as being in both of those bodies at once.

With that clarified, the story can be found below the read more. (Please be gentle, I’ve literally never written a fic before)

They let out a thoughtful chirp from their speakers as they hovered up to the antenna of the decrepit relay station; a habit they’d picked up from time spent around their citizens. On instinct, they went to store the information in their general memory banks, only to stutter in their flight as they failed to connect.

They were... still getting used to that. Silent Eyes knew that these long distance missions were necessary for reestablishing communication with the other clusters, but that didn’t make it any less uncomfortable to be cut off from so much of themselves.

At least the sensation eased up somewhat when they hunkered down in the MMSP to wait out the rain. Some of their citizens had come along for the ride, even after the extended nature of this outing was explained to them. Truthfully, they were grateful for the company. Tending to the needs of the adventurous group of slugcats served as a much appreciated distraction from the concerns that plagued them lately.

And ah, there was the crux of the issue, wasn’t it? The thing that they’d wanted to pass off to the rest of themselves while they focused on documenting what material components they’d need to fabricate in order to get this ancient transmitter back up and running: the broadcasts. They’d been found stored on the station’s barely functional servers and the contents were... distressing.

They weren’t stupid; they’d heard the rumors. Those were all on public chatrooms, after all, so they had made it much further out than any encrypted private conversations. But Eyes had treated them with a hopeful skepticism. They hadn’t know Unparalleled Innocence very well, and the rumors were just that: rumors. They’d helped iterators handle cases of rot before, they were sure Five Pebbles could handle himself. And losing contact with Looks To The Moon doesn’t necessarily mean anything bad happened to her. Everyone’s communications were breaking down. Heck, they’d had to repair their own communication arrays before they could even talk to the iterators right next to them! Their neighboring cluster was most likely perfectly fine. They probably just needed a few new antennas, a couple fresh dishes, a good rewiring and bam! Problem solved.

Except, well... these old messages paint a slightly different picture.

It’s probably nothing! They’re probably just overthinking things, making false assumptions because they’re working with much less information than they’re used to. This will all make much more sense when they get this relay back to working order, so they can take a new look at this data with all of their processing power at their disposal. The ARU that they’re piloting wasn’t exactly built for complex thinking, after all, with its internals mostly full of sensors and data storage. That’s why ARUs are always accompanied by an MMSP; its large computing system dedicated to housing Silent Eyes picks up the slack for its smaller cousins.

They’re just maybe, slightly freaking out because even with the additional processing power of the MMSP parked right outside, the messages are still setting off all kinds of alarm bells in their brain. Contents aside, just the fact that they’re seeing these messages at all is frankly concerning.

Silent Eyes has become intimately familiar with the inner workings of an iterator’s communication arrays. They know, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that incoming messages are not meant to bounce like this. The different systems for incoming and outgoing information are completely separate, only connected in that they are both part of communications. The fact that they found the messages here, in a relay station almost halfway between the two clusters, is indicative of a catastrophic malfunction on Looks To The Moon’s end. Her systems would’ve had to be physically rewired for them to broadcast a message in its entirety to a random recipient immediately upon receiving it, rather than download its contents for Moon to read. It’s honestly a miracle that the header and group name were the only things lost in the process.

It would be a different story for a public communiqué sent to a group discussion- long range broadcasts are sent along multiple relays, so that there are redundancies in case one breaks down- but these were clearly meant to be direct communications between iterators in the same cluster, with their names listed directly beneath the missing group: “No Significant Harassment, Big Sis Moon.” It should’ve been impossible, and yet here it is, scanned directly into Silent Eyes’ internal storage.

As for the messages themselves... there’s not much to be said. Two short chatlogs between users “No Significant Harassment” and “Big Sis Moon.” NSH is the only one to speak. He is unsure if his messages will reach Moon, citing an unknown amount of damage to her systems. Five Pebbles appears to be uncooperative, and NSH seems to be planning something. All in all, it sounds like a grim situation.

But, well, it’s only two messages! Maybe NSH’s plan worked, and Moon’s communication arrays stopped sending messages here! Or, maybe they can find more messages once they restore power to the upper floor! Oh, and what if-

Plink! Silent Eyes jolted at the sound of something hitting the base of their wings. Oh, the rain is coming. It seems they weren’t doing a very good job of focusing on repairs.

They spur themselves into motion, abandoning the various tasks around the station that they’d been idling at for the last half an hour. It seems they’ll have to wait until the next cycle before they can reconnect with the rest of themselves.

As they settle themselves down to charge in the vast hanger of the MMSP, and their large, armored form prepares to weather the rain, Silent Eyes takes comfort in the fact that all of their citizens appear to be fed and accounted for. They flutter their wings in amusement as the slugcats begin to bully them into the quickly forming cuddle pile on the floor, adjusting themself slightly to support the one that’s already fallen asleep on their back. They don’t appear bothered in the slightest by the rigid metal form of the ARUs, seeming perfectly content with the fact that all four of them together provide a comfortable amount of heat.

Surrounded on all sides by warm bodies, with the sounds of purring echoing off the walls of their hanger, Eyes feels their fans start to slow as the worry that had been eating at them finally begins to abate.

The messages are concerning, and Eyes is still concerned at the apparent state of their fellow iterators, but they will not let their fear dismantle them. With a clearer mind and a new objective, One Thousand Silent Eyes finds themselves wishing they could tell NSH the same thing he tried to tell Looks To The Moon: “Hang in there. I’m coming to help.”

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 5: What I Want

Summary: You begin your training with Ghost, but not everything goes as smoothly as you'd hoped. At least you're learning how to want things, and that it won't kill you if you ask for them.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, some Ghost x Soap

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, brief violence, reader has a breakdown

A/N: I know I was supposed to rest, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to get this one done. I was feeling it. We're finally getting into the good stuff here. Things will kind of pick up after this part, so I'm really looking forward for that.

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(Gif pulled from google)

You tug nervously at your sleeve, feeling exactly as you did when you had to sit in the director’s office at The Institute. Only, you never got in trouble there. You had never been summoned because you misbehaved. You made it a point not to get into trouble, avoiding it at all costs. 

You’ve been here just over a week and you’ve already messed up. 

Price is staring at you across his desk, leaning on his elbows as his blue eyes bore into you. You’re not staring at Price, you think. No, you’ve come face to face with The Captain. He’s angry, though you can’t be entirely sure. You’ve never seen him truly angry. You’re waiting on the reprimanding, the punishment, for him to tell you they’re sending you back because you’re too much trouble. 

“I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”

You flinch at his voice, half expecting him to start shouting but he sounds almost calm. There’s a strain to his voice, like he’s restraining himself. He’s doing it for your sake, you think. 

“Ghost and I were walking back from the mess when one of the alphas called out to me. He...he asked if I was going to go spread my legs for ‘that freak’ and he said he could offer me a better time.” You swallow thickly, Price’s shoulders tensing just slightly. “I don’t know what happened...I just suddenly felt so angry and it’s like I lost control of myself and I went up to him and he asked if I was gonna take him up on his offer and that he’d like to bend me over and stare at my sweet ass all night...and then I hit him, sir.” 

“Good.” 

You look up at Price in surprise at his answer, your eyes widening a bit. “S-sorry, sir?” 

“I have little tolerance for alphas that think it’s alright to speak crudely to omegas, especially those they were explicitly told to let be. You saved me a lot of paperwork today. Simon would have done a lot worse had you not gotten to him first.” He moves the papers on his desk aside, holding out his hand. “Let me see.” 

You stare at his hand for a moment before you realize he’s talking about your hand. You push your sleeve up, putting your hand in his. Your knuckles have swollen a bit and bruised, tender to the touch as he runs his thumb over them. 

“Simon told me you asked him to teach you to fight.” He says, closing his fingers around your hand. 

“Well, not so much fight, sir.” You say, staring at your hands. “Maybe just how to throw a decent punch.” 

“I’d say the one you threw today was at least half-decent. Corporal Allen is sporting quite the bruise on his face.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be properly dealt with and they’ll all be receiving a lecture on proper base etiquette.” 

“So...am I in trouble, sir?” You ask, pulling your hand back slowly as he releases it. 

“No, you were simply defending yourself after Corporal Allen made a pass at you. Just don’t make it a habit of going around punching alphas.” He smiles. 

“I’ll try not to, sir.” You say, relieved that you weren’t about to get punished for your mistake. 

“Go on.” He nods towards the door. “I’m sure the boys are waiting for you.” 

“Thank you, sir.” You say, standing up from your chair, heading towards the door. 

Price leans back in his chair as the door closes, the sweet scent of caramel and strawberries still permeating his office. He breathes it in for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through the contacts. 

“You’ll be delighted to hear our girl punched an alpha in the face today.” He says once the other line picks up. 

“She did what?” Laswell asks, genuine surprise in her tone. 

“One of the Corporals made a pass at her, and she left quite the bruise on his cheek. She’s turning into quite the spitfire.” 

“I told you she would fit right in. Underneath all that institute-taught BS there’s quite the personality. How is she settling in?” 

“She’s softening up to the betas already. Still a bit fidgety, but she’s found a way to get Simon to warm up to her.” 

“Oh? How so?” 

“She asked him to teach her to fight.” Price grins. 

Laswell chuckles. “I told you she’s smart. Just make sure he’s gentle with her.” 

“Don't worry, I reminded him to go easy on her. I think it will be good for both of them. Some forced proximity will be good for Simon and she’ll get to learn a few things that could be helpful.” 

“So long as she doesn’t go around trying to fight more alphas.” 

“She’s already promised not to. The Corporal got off easy. I can only imagine what Simon might have done to him.” 

“I’m glad to hear things are going well, John. I worry about her sometimes, but I know you boys will take good care of her.” 

“We’re doing our best.” 

“If you ever need anything, you know you can call.” 

“I know. I’ll keep you updated as her heat gets closer.” 

“Good. I’d hate to have to file that paperwork.” 

Price grimaces. “I know. I hope you don’t have to.” 

You’re tying your shoes as the knock sounds on the door. You’re not sure how they manage to do it, always seeming to catch you at the perfect moment. You’re glad Kate thought to get you some more active-wear type clothing, though perhaps she expected you’d be getting involved in their training or at least start a bit of your own once you arrived, just as she had thought to get you outdoorsy clothes too. 

You open the door, staring up at the hulking form of Ghost. 

“Come on.” He grunts, turning on his heel to walk down the hallway. 

You quickly close your door, hurrying after him. Not much has changed since your request for him to train you, though you didn’t really expect it to. Not at first, at least. You still have to prove yourself to him. Simply existing and getting involved in their lives would not be enough. 

He escorts you to the gym, a building you haven’t been in yet. There’s a few soldiers milling around, most of them in the weight room. There’s a pool across from the weight room, for more than just swimming, you think. Your father had talked about his own water survival training. You can only imagine the kind of water training they go through. 

Ghost leads you towards the back of the gym, unlocking a door near the exit. It’s set up not unlike a dojo, mats on the floor and punching bags and other training equipment along the walls. Ghost empties his pockets, setting his things on a bench before removing his sweatshirt. 

You can’t help but stare, only ever having seen him in long sleeves. His muscles bulge beneath his t-shirt, the first bit of skin revealed to you besides his neck, chin, and hands. Your eyes are drawn to his arms, taking in the sheer size of them. 

Tattoos. 

He has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. You have a desire to look at them closer, to trace each one but you wouldn’t dare. Not right now. You pull off your own sweatshirt, folding it and setting it on the bench, leaving you in just a t-shirt and your leggings. 

You fail in your attempt not to stare as he walks towards the center of the mat in his t-shirt and sweatpants, swallowing nervously. He turns to face you, motioning for you to approach with two of his fingers. Your face warms as you hurry onto the mat, coming to stand in front of him. 

“Let me see.” He says, holding out his hand. 

You stare at it for a moment before your brain catches up, and you put your right hand into his. You ignore the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your hand, lifting it so he can inspect your still bruised knuckles. 

“We’ll start with dodging.” He says, releasing your hand, taking a step back. “Let me see your stance.” 

You part your feet a little, bringing your fists up to your face. His shoulders shake in a quiet huff of a laugh as he stares at you. 

“You need to stagger your stance more.” He says, circling you. “Otherwise,” Hands push you from behind, and you nearly avoid face planting into the floor. “You’re too easy to knock over. The last thing you want is the fight to end up on the floor. You won’t be getting back up if you let your opponent overpower you that much. Again.” He motions to you. 

You set up your stance again, widening your feet just a bit. 

“Good.” He says, moving to stand in front of you. “These protect your face.” He says, hands wrapping around your wrists, raising your hands just a bit. “You get hit in the face...” 

“I won’t be getting back up.” You finish for him. 

You know most fights end up with both opponents on the ground. You’d watched your brothers wrestle and play fight enough to know that. You’re not here to learn how to win a fight, only how to protect yourself enough until you can find space to run. 

You barely have time to stumble back as his fist swings at you, nearly losing your footing. “Hey! You could warn me first.” 

“You think someone attacking you is going to warn you?” He asks. 

He has a point. 

“Use your legs.” He says as you set yourself up again. “Move side to side if you can instead of ducking under the punch, but if you have to, don’t let your eyes leave your opponent.” 

You see this punch coming, ducking to your right to avoid getting hit. 

“Good.” He says, repeating the motion with his left hand. “Stay focused.” 

You continue with the same motion a few times, already starting to feel a bit fatigued. Running is one thing, but strength is another. Most omegas aren’t naturally strong, nor are they inclined to increase their strength. That’s what alphas and their packs are for. It’s not unheard of, though, for omegas to increase their physical strength. Perhaps you’ll need to consider looking into doing that as well. 

Ghost takes a step back, letting you rest for a moment. You’re breathing heavily, though he’s hardly looking fatigued at all. He’s used to this, you remind yourself. He probably throws more punches in a day in the field than he’s thrown at you so far in 30 minutes. 

“Now, let’s make it a bit more realistic.” He says, a low rumble at the edge of his voice. 

A wave of scent hits you, your brain nearly short-circuiting. Fear pulses through you, ozone burning your nostrils. You stumble backwards, landing on your back on the mat. You’re breathing heavily, every cell in your body screaming at you to run or submit. 

“That’s...that’s n-not fair!” You say, your hands trembling from the adrenaline coursing through you. 

“Any alpha you fight is going to use every natural advantage they have over you.” Ghost says, stalking towards you. You can practically see it, the purebred alpha within him coming through. “You need to learn to protect yourself against them.” 

“That's...that’s not possible.” You say, the edge of a whine detectable in your tone. 

He kneels down over you, crowding into your space despite the souring of your scent. It doesn’t even seem to phase him as he forces you flat on your back, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head. You stare up at him, every fiber of your being screaming at you to bare your throat, submit, give in. 

Don’t back down. 

Don’t back down. 

You push past the fear, the instincts screaming at you as you drive your knee up into his stomach. He lets out a grunt but it doesn’t phase him, his hand wrapping around your leg, using his sheer strength to flip you onto your stomach under him. He presses against you, body folding over yours. You resist the urge, the instinct to press back into him, to be a good omega. 

“If an alpha gets you onto the floor...” He says, warm breath fanning your ear through his mask. “You won’t want to get back up.” 

His face presses against your neck as he inhales deeply before he pushes himself up, grabbing the back of your shirt and hauling you to your feet as well. You’re shaking, your heart thumping in your chest. Your head feels fuzzy, your brain buzzing a bit. Your omega is confused, poised to strike but she’s not sure against who. Ghost isn’t a threat, and you know that, but he had just proved how easily he could be. Any of them could be, with a simple scent change and their sheer strength. 

“Again.” He says, getting into a fighting stance. 

“You can’t expect me to fight after that.” You say, your voice breathless. 

“If you’re in a real fight, you won’t have much of a choice.” He says, the rumble still audible around his own voice. 

He’s right. If someone is attacking you, it’s likely going to be to kill, or to try and take you from them. Your omega shifts uncomfortably as you raise your shaking hands to guard your face. You continue to dodge punches, hitting the ground more and more as you continue to get tired. You’re going to be sore, still feeling your hike through the woods a bit. 

The door opens, giving you a moment to breathe. Soap enters, a grin on his face. 

“Ah, the wee lass is still breathin’.” He says, leaning against the wall. “Came tae make sure ye hadnae killed ‘er.” 

You can practically hear Ghost roll his eyes, his back turned to you as he says something to Soap. You can’t hear what it is, the ringing in your ears too loud. Your omega is still worked up, still poised to strike, more so now in your exhausted state. You push yourself off the floor, not having a moment to think things through before you’re throwing yourself at Ghost’s back. 

He turns before you hit him, catching you and flipping you onto your back on the mat. You hit hard, the breath forced from your lungs at the impact.

“Christ, Simon!” Soap shouts, hurrying to your side. “Ye tryin’ tae break her, ye numpty?” 

“Don’t do that again.” Ghost growls at you, stomping over to grab his things before leaving the room. 

“Easy, hen.” Soap soothes you as you gasp for air, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “Be over before ye know it.” 

Slowly the paralysis of your diaphragm begins to lessen, your stomach still aching but the air comes easier now. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight the tears. You’ve messed it up. One day and you’ve already done more damage than you would have had you not asked him to teach you to fight. 

“Don’ worry, hen. He’s just worked up, that's all.” Soap says, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead. 

“It’s his fault.” You murmur. 

“Maybe, but yer scent...surprised you didn’t notice, hen.” Soap wiggles his brows. 

Your face warms. You hadn’t noticed the uptick of muskiness in the room, the heady scent of arousal before now.

It’s not yours. 

“Me?” You ask, letting Soap help you into a seated position. 

Soap smirks. “It wasnae me that tented his breeks this time.” 

Your face warms even more, your body feeling like it might explode. 

“Come on, hen.” He says, slipping his hands under your arms to lift you to your feet. “There’s still time tae shower before breakfast.” 

“I can assume you know why you were called in here sooner than our normal weekly meeting time.” Dr. Keller says as you sit in her office. 

“Because I punched Corporal Allen.” You say with a wince. 

Dr. Keller nods. “Indeed. I just want to make sure you’re feeling alright, after that. Getting into an altercation with an alpha can be tough.” 

“I don’t think I’d call it an altercation.” You say quietly. 

“Maybe not,” She says, shuffling her papers. “But standing up to an alpha can be daunting.” 

“I wasn’t alone.” You shrug. “Ghost was there.” 

“I saw both yours and Lieutenant Riley’s account of what happened. I’m wondering, would you have confronted him if you were alone?” 

Her question makes you think for a moment. Would you have stopped? Would you have confronted him, much less punched him if you were alone, or even with one of the others? No, you likely would have ignored him and kept walking like you did with Gaz. You’d likely have gone straight to your room and cried a little out of embarrassment and disgust. 

“No, ma’am.” You say quietly. “I don’t think so.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “You’re aware of Lieutenant Riley’s status.” 

You nod, a frown pulling at your brows. How did she figure it out? “Yes, ma’am.” 

“I know because I have access to their medical records.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s required for statuses to be present in medical records since purebreds have to be treated differently, just as alphas, betas, and omegas have to be treated differently.” 

You do know that. You know that an injured alpha can get defensive if they feel cornered. You know omegas can die from stress if they’re not taken care of correctly. You know betas can get overwhelmed by large groups of injured people all in the same place without proper training to filter out the scents of agony and suffering. 

“I think you reacted to his scent.” Dr. Keller continues. “You mentioned feeling a sudden rush of uncontrollable anger. Do you remember smelling anything at that moment?” 

You nod. “Ozone.” 

She nods, the pieces beginning to come together in your own head. “I’m sure you’ve figured out how different purebred alpha’s are and how much more potent their scents are. Your own status makes you more susceptible to their scents and the changes in them. You were reacting to the change in his scent. Your omega sensed a threat, and took over for a moment to defend you. It’s a natural response in omegas towards those they see as protectors, or even packmates.” 

Your eyes widen a bit at her words. Ghost is technically your packmate. He’s an alpha in your pack, but you’ve never considered that you see him as anything but. He has defended you, and he had defended you not long before your altercation with Corporal Allen. Had your omega begun to cling to him out of a sheer need for protection after something like what happened in the mess? 

You would like Ghost to see you as more than just an omega in his pack, more than just Price’s omega. You know he’d never claim you, but you’d at least like to get onto friendly terms with him. Soap said it had taken proving himself before Ghost started to accept him. You’re hoping your time spent learning how to fight helps you prove yourself, that you’re not a threat or even a risk. That maybe you can be an acceptable omega for his pack. 

“Aside from this incident, how are you settling in? How are things going with your new pack?” 

“Fine, I guess.” You shrug, starting to pick at your sleeve again. “Ghost is teaching me to defend myself.”

“Oh? Does this have something to do with what happened with Corporal Allen? Or is there a different reason?” Dr. Keller asks. 

“I mean, partially that but also, Ghost, he’s...hard to get along with.” You grimace. “I know that in relationships, a good way to bond with people is to get into their hobbies so you have something in common. Ghost...ghost speaks in violence and I think it would help ease some of my fears if I can at least defend myself.” 

“I think this is a great idea. It allows for some bonding time between the two of you, and it can also be beneficial to ease your anxiety a bit. As long as you’re being careful and you don’t get hurt.” She says, giving you a pointed look. 

You think back to Ghost flipping you onto your back on the mat, narrowly missing getting hit, how he’d pinned you down using his own scent against you. “He’s being careful.” You say, clearing your throat. “Price would put him through the ringer if something happened. Even just as an accident.” 

“How are things going with Price?” She asks, writing something down. 

You shrug. “Fine. He involved me in some training this past weekend. We hiked out to a watchtower and the others tried to follow my scent. We got to spend some time together while we waited.” 

“Have you done much of that? Spending time together?” She asks. 

You shake your head. “Not really. He’s...busy. A lot.” 

“You should start making an effort to get to know him more.” Dr. Keller says. “It’ll make it easier once your heat hits if you’re familiar with him. Have you knelt for him yet?” 

You shake your head again, not wanting to answer out loud. 

“Why not?” She asks. 

“He still hasn’t asked me to.” You murmur. 

“Do you know why omegas kneel for their alphas?” She asks. 

You nod. “It’s good for our brains and bodies. It helps relax us and soothes our omega, makes it easier to process stressful events and can prevent stress related diseases later in life.” 

Dr. Keller nods. “Correct. It’s an important first step in building that bond between an alpha and an omega, when it’s done correctly.” 

Bad alphas can use kneeling to control omegas, put them in certain mindsets, make them more subservient. You know this, you’d heard stories from your fellow omegas after watching their parents. That’s not kneeling. You never had the heart to tell them it was so much worse. 

“Do you want to kneel for him?” She asks you. 

That word again. 

You do want to kneel for him. You’ve wanted to since this past Saturday in the watchtower. You’ve felt that urge, that drive to drop to your knees beside him and let yourself go, let him carry everything you’ve been feeling over the last week. 

You nod slowly, ripping one of the strings off your sleeve. You’re fighting the tears, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You can feel them building, pushing against your stomach and your chest, threatening to burst right out of your skin and leave you nothing but an empty carcass. You’re breathing has picked up, shaking a bit as you inhale deeply. 

“Why haven’t you asked?” Dr. Keller asks, her brows furrowing as she stares at you. 

“I don’t know how!” The words tear from your lips, almost echoing as they bounce off the walls like projectiles. You haven’t so much as raised your voice in years, much less to a person of authority, but you can’t stop. The dam has been breached. “Everyone keeps asking me what I want, but I don’t know how to want!” Tears cascade down your cheeks, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. You cover your face with your hands, muffling your sobs. “I’m not supposed to want.” 

“Hey,” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft as she kneels in front of you, her hands trying to gently pry yours away from your face. “Who told you that?” 

“That’s what we’re taught!” You hiccup, letting her pull your hands from your face. The tears are still falling, lips trembling as you sob. “We’re supposed to be good omegas. Obedient and serve our alphas. We don’t want anything, we’re only supposed to give.” 

“Well that’s a load of bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.” 

Dr. Keller’s words shock you into reality, your sobs halting with a sharp inhale. You stare at her, the tears still spilling from your eyes. Your hands are closed into fists, your sore knuckles aching from the strain. 

“You’re an omega. It’s in your nature to want, to need. You can’t help your alpha if your own needs aren’t being met first. It’s okay to need things, to want things. Are there things you want?” 

“Softer blankets. Fluffier pillows. A nightlight. Something to put on my walls. Strawberry scented body wash. Some goddamn authentic Mexican food.” 

Dr. Keller chuckles lightly. “I can agree with you on that last one.” She squeezes your arms gently. “You’re allowed to ask for things. You’re not a soldier, and even they are allowed to have things of their own, comfort items, with them. It doesn’t have to be material things either that you ask for. I’m sure your pack would find a way to bend over backwards if you asked them.” 

She’s right. The book says omegas can hold great power over the members of their packs if they try. A mix of playing their instincts and the right behavior and temperament can have betas and alphas wrapped around your finger. The idea of having such control over four powerful men makes your head spin. 

“I want Soap to kiss me.” You blurt out, your face warming as you hastily wipe at your tears to hide. 

“Oh?” Dr. Keller’s eyebrows raise as she looks at you. “This is a new development.” 

“We...we almost did...a couple days ago.” You say, burying your face in your hands. “But I stopped it because I thought maybe Price...but then he said he didn’t care...” 

Dr. Keller gently wraps her hands around your wrists, lowering your hands. “It’s okay to want that, and it’s okay to want to kneel for Price. I bet he’d be delighted if you asked him. I bet he was waiting because he didn't think you were ready for it yet.”  

The calming beta scent washes over you, Dr. Keller projecting it to try and help you calm down. Your tears have stopped, your breathing starting to slow as the gentle almond scent goes straight to your brain. 

“I’d like us to still meet for our regularly scheduled appointment this week, but I’m giving you an assignment to complete between then and now.” Dr. Keller says. “I want you to ask one of the members of your pack for one thing that you want. You can pick what it is, and who you ask, but I want to hear about it when I see you later this week, understood?” 

You push back the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Yes, ma’am.” 

“Good.” She pushes herself up to stand. “You can stay here as long as you want. Just let me know when you’re ready to go back to the barracks. Take your time. You are my only patient.” 

She grabs the paperwork off the couch before moving to her desk. You watch her for a moment before letting your eyes wander. You wipe at your face, your cheeks feeling puffy from your tears. You’re glad she’s giving you time to relax. The last thing you needed was to run into a member of your pack like this. 

That’s not a conversation you want to have right now. 

You take deep breaths, letting the beta scent permeating the air calm you down. You sink down further into the chair, letting it surround you. It’s soft, the cushions pressing around you like a hug. You wonder how she managed to get it in the hard, “function-above-all” world of the military. You wonder how she got most things in her office, or maybe if she’d brought them with her. 

It was likely Kate’s doing, you think. The office space was made for an omega, set up to be as comforting as possible. Though, you don't doubt Dr. Keller would have argued her case for having these things fearlessly if she had to. 

You stay in her office for a while, listening to the clacking of her keyboard as the soothing beta scent washes over you. Your eyes are still burning a bit as you force yourself out of the chair, out of the soft comfort you could spend days wrapped in. 

“I’m ready to go now.” You say quietly. 

“Okay.” Dr. Keller says, finishing what she was typing before she stands, grabbing her keys. 

She locks the office behind you before you leave the medical center, pulling up your hood to protect you from the drizzling rain. You’re growing used to the perpetually grey skies and sudden rainstorms. 

Dr. Keller squeezes your arm gently as you stop at the door to the barracks. “Remember what I told you. I’ll see you in a few days, alright?” 

You nod. “Thank you.” 

She smiles softly. “You did good today. I am proud of you.” 

You slip into the door of the barracks as she makes her way back to the medical center, your shoes squeaking on the tile floors. You head back to your room, the silence in the barracks telling you they’re not back yet. 

You kick off your shoes, pulling your damp sweatshirt off as you sit on the edge of your bed. You stare at your ruined sleeve, the seam split to the edge of the cuff now. You got the sweatshirt from one of your fellow omegas at the institute, and you’ve worn it almost every day since. It’s turned a bit raggedy, and your picking at it hasn’t helped any. 

Ask for one thing that you want. 

It would be easy to ask for a new sweatshirt. You’re sure if you asked Gaz, he’d give you the one right off his back. Everything you can think to ask for, they’d have to buy. If you asked Soap, he’d likely commandeer the closest vehicle and drive straight to town and buy you one in every color, even if he didn’t have permission to. 

You could ask for something that’s not material. 

Warmth floods your face as you think about it. How would you even ask? You can’t just ask directly. You could, but you might die of embarrassment if anyone heard you. There’s nothing to really be embarrassed about, but you can’t help it. It’s a bold thing to ask for, and you’re not sure you’re feeling quite so bold today. 

You chew on your lip as the barrack door opens, their voices echoing down the hallway as they return from their morning training. They pass by your door, their own doors opening and closing. You get up, moving to stand in front of your own door, holding your breath. You could just step out, knock on his door and ask. He’s probably changing, though. You’d never get the words out if he thought it was one of the others and opened it half dressed. 

You have to do it, though, before you lose your nerve. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never do it and you’ll have to tell Dr. Keller that you failed. You’re allowed to want things. It’s your nature to want things. It’s human nature to want things. There’s nothing wrong with having needs and wants. 

You can want this. 

You repeat it over and over as you slowly open your door, letting it close behind you. You smell the air, finding the trail of his scent. It disappears down the hall and around the corner towards the rec room. Your legs feel shaky as you follow it, your stomach twisting anxiously. You can want this. It’s okay to want this. 

You turn the corner, finding him coming out of the rec room. He grins at you, eyes sparkling. 

You want this. 

“Hey, lass, was just lookin’ for ye. Are ye ready for lunch-” 

His words cut off as you grab his face, standing on your toes to press your lips against his. He makes a surprised sound against your lips, his body tensing. It’s quick, only a couple seconds before you’re releasing him, taking a big step back. Your eyes are wide with shock, almost as wide as his. His lips are parted in surprise still, his shoulders tensed. 

“Sorry.” You blurt out, your nerves only heightened. What if he hadn’t wanted it? “Sorry, I just...I wanted to do it and I wanted you to do it that day, but I’ve never had a real kiss before and I thought maybe Price would want to...but then he said he didn’t care-” 

Your words cut off as he grips your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. The tension has melted from his shoulders, the surprise gone from his face. His eyes are soft as they stare down at you, his thumb brushing your lower lip. 

“I didnae know it was yer first kiss.” He says softly. “I wouldnae pushed it so far if I did.” 

“It wasn’t technically my first kiss, I kissed another omega at the institute but I don’t really count it cause I did it for her.” You shrug. “I’ve regretted pulling away since that day and Dr. Keller said I should start learning to want things and she gave me the assignment of asking for one thing that I want before I see her again at the end of the week and I could have just asked for something simple but-” 

Your words are cut off as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours again. It’s soft and sweet, his hand sliding from your chin to the back of your head, holding you against him. Your fingers grip his shirt, and you lift yourself onto your toes to press back against him as his lips move against yours. 

His forehead presses against yours as he pulls away, your breaths mingling as you continue to hold each other. “Gaz will be upset he missed out.” He says quietly, lips tugging up in a smile as he squeezes your waist. 

“He can kiss me later.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips once more before pulling away. “After lunch.” 

Soap chuckles quietly, slipping his hand into yours. “After lunch.” 

You hesitate outside the door, shifting nervously on your feet. You could turn around and go back to bed, pretend like you hadn’t spent an hour convincing yourself to walk down here, like you haven’t been thinking about this all afternoon. You had already completed your assignment for the week. You’d kissed Soap, done something you wanted. You’ve fulfilled that desire, and it didn’t kill you. You hadn’t dropped dead afterward. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything. 

This isn’t a want. 

You knock softly on the door, half tempted to turn and run and hide under your covers until you inevitably have to get up tomorrow. 

“Come in.” 

Your hand hesitates on the door handle for just a moment before you’re turning it, stepping into the office. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, though you suppose if nothing else, he had smelled you standing outside. The thought makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. How long has he known you were standing out there? 

“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He asks, setting down his pen. 

You shuffle nervously, clasping your hands in front of you. “I-I was wondering...I..um...” You take a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could kneel for you.” 

You bite your lip as he stares at you, the words having come out fast, almost meshing into one long string of nonsense. His eyes darken just a bit, his scent thickening in the air. 

“You want to kneel for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and rough. 

You nod, shifting your weight again. “Yes, sir.” 

“Grab a pillow.” He nods to the couch. “I won’t have you hurting yourself.” 

You grab one of the pillows from the couch, wondering how often he’s slept in his office. How many nights he’s spent awake, pouring over files, his mind working too hard for him to find any rest. You set the pillow on the floor before kneeling down next to him, facing his desk. You shift until you’re comfortable, sitting back on your feet. You let out a long breath as your eyes slipped closed, your fingers twitching anxiously in your lap. 

Price’s hand is gentle as it comes to rest on the top of your head. You relax into his touch as he strokes your hair, working his way down towards your neck. You force your mind to relax, easing away the desire to tense your shoulders, to draw them up around your ears. It’s pure natural instinct, one that will fade the more you practice, the more you bond with him. The more you trust him. 

“Ready?” He asks, his voice sounding far away despite the fact you’re right next to him. 

“Yes, sir.” You murmur, pressing your head into his hand. 

His hand slips lower, curling around the back of your neck. You inhale sharply as he finally makes contact with the sensitive area. His hand is warm, the tension slowly easing from your body as he presses his thumb lightly into the side of your neck. The back of your brain begins to buzz, your mind slowly filling with static. You relax even further, your head bowing just slightly as you feel the weight of the last three months lifting off your shoulders. 

All the emotions, all the fear, all the unknowns suddenly feel far away. All the apprehension and the anxiety are soothed to nothing as he holds you, the hand on your neck a firm reminder that you’re not alone in this anymore. You have an alpha now, a strong alpha that you can trust in, that will carry it all for you. 

You don’t need to be stressed or afraid anymore. A warmth begins blossoming within you, spreading from your core out to your fingers and toes. You feel a bit dazed, but not in a bad way. You’re not afraid of the feeling, not with your alpha’s hand around the back of your neck keeping you safe. 

You’re not sure how much time passes, how long you kneel there. It could be five minutes, it could be two hours. Price continues to go over his paperwork, his other hand steady on the back of your neck. It’s not until he’s done that he carefully pushes his seat back, kneeling on the floor next to you. He releases your neck, catching your body as it slumps over, drawing you against his chest. 

“Easy, sweet girl.” He murmurs, pressing your face into his neck. 

You’re shaking a bit, brain still dazed and flying as you breathe in his scent. Earthy, trees, petrichor. The warm muskiness of a content alpha. You made him smell like that. You invoked that scent. 

“Feeling alright?” He murmurs into your hair, gently stroking your side as you begin to come back into your body. 

You hum in affirmation, wrapping your arms around his neck. You haven’t been this close to him yet, not since the scenting and that was more of a formal closeness, a required closeness. This is because you want it. 

“Don’t let me go.” You murmur into his neck, clinging to him tightly. 

His arms tighten around you for a moment before he slips them under you, lifting you into his arms easily. He pushes himself from the floor, moving to sit on the couch with you on his lap. You let yourself go lax in his hold again, feeling calmer and more relaxed than you have in months. You feel safe in his arms, not that he would have let anything happen to you before. 

You’ve always been safe, you think as you let your eyes drift closed again. 

The water is hot as it runs down his back, contrasting the cool tile against his forehead. His eyes are closed, breaths slow and steady through his nose. He can’t get that damn scent of vanilla and sweet, sweet omega arousal out of his head. He drives his fist into the wall with a growl, cursing the blood rushing south. 

He can’t forget the way you felt under him, pinned so easily and helpless beneath him. He hates the way his cock twitches at the thought of the pout on your lips as he’d swung at you, narrowly missing you too many times. The way you tried to jump him. 

He lets out another frustrated growl, slamming his forehead into the tile. A hand presses against his bare back and he turns on his heel, hand wrapping around Johnny’s throat, slamming him back against the shower wall. 

Jesus Christ, he’s going to kill the mutt one of these days. 

“Easy, Lt.” Johnny rasps, not fazed at all by the alpha’s actions. His eyes flicker lower, to the hard cock standing at attention. “Bit worked up, eh?” 

He lets Johnny go with a growl, stepping back under the water, turning it all the way to the right until it’s nearly freezing. He almost groans in frustration as the water shuts off completely, his eyes cracking open as Johnny’s hand trails up his chest. 

“Easy, big guy. Let me help ye.” 

Simon moves until his back is pressed against the tiles, eyes not leaving Johnny’s sapphire ones as the beta slowly kneels in front of him. Johnny’s hands trace over his hips, outlining scars both old and new. Johnny’s fingers finally reach his cock, wrapping around the thick length. Simon sighs in quiet relief as Johnny slowly pumps his length, their gazes still locked. 

Simon stares down at Johnny through his blonde lashes as Johnny leans forward, dragging his tongue along his head. A low growl rumbles through his chest as the beta circles his tongue around his head, smearing precum on his chin. He’s painfully hard now, breaking his gaze as his head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed. 

His fingers sink into Johnny’s mohawk as the beta takes his cock in his mouth. He breathes through his nose, relaxing his throat as Simon’s cock sinks deeper and deeper, Johnny’s hands closing around his hips to hold himself steady. Simon grips his hair tightly as he begins to move, bobbing his head along his length, his tongue pressing against the bottom of his cock. 

Simon squeezes his eyes closed as an image comes to mind, a smaller hand fondling his balls. His hand wraps around the base of his cock as he imagines soft lips on his tip, Johnny’s tongue tracing the parts of him that you can’t fit yet as you take him in your mouth. The sweet whines that would be pulled from you as he choked you on his thick length, Johnny whispering sweet encouragements to you. 

He can picture the two of you, you and Johnny with your tongues entwined, his cum stringing between your lips. 

He growls, yanking Johnny off his cock and pinning him to the tile wall. Johnny’s lips are parted as he breathes heavily, eyes blown with lust as he stares up at his alpha. Simon’s hand tugs at his hair, tilting his head back to bear his throat. Johnny lets out a quiet moan as he sinks his teeth into the delicate skin, leaving a mark he’ll wear proudly for a few days. 

“Turn around and bend over.” He growls to the beta, his cock still hard and throbbing. 

“Sir, yes sir.” Johnny says, smirking wickedly as he slowly turns to face the wall. 

Fucking christ, Simon groans. They’re going to be the death of him. 

You’re going to be the death of him. 

NEXT ->

Taglist, part 1:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006

[babydipper]

“How did you know how to do it?”

“Do what?”

“Stitch me up.”

“It's just sewing.”

“And the IV?”

Jazz’s mouth opens, then closes as she also closes her eyes. He lets her think about the answer, a good enough lie. “A friend had a doctor phase a few years ago. We would try to do a lot of things on fake skin before she moved on to tattooing.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I am telling the truth. Look, I had- I had a weird childhood, so sometimes I had to improvise.”

“No, I believe you,” he says, and he means it. It's so stupid she couldn't make it up. There's also a part of his still light-headed brain that can translate weird childhood and improvise into what it truly means. Maybe she has lied, but not about the thing he thought she would, and it counts for something. The wind on the roof gives him shivers. “Why would you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Help me out. It's none of your business.”

Jazz watches him attentively and there's something about it that makes his muscles tense, body fully ready to jump. She tilts her head just slightly. “We live together,” she points out as if it explains everything. As always, it doesn't. Then she bites her lip. “I- I have never had anyone to catch me if I fall. I guessed you don't have anyone like this either.”

It hits him harder than the fucking bullet last night. “You think I would catch you.”

Jazz smiles and it's full of mischief. Then, like a fucking psycho she is, she leans back out the edge of the building.

He has her arm in an iron grip before he can think about it and pulls so hard, she stumbles forward and falls onto him, laughing, bouncing back like a tennis ball. “Are you fucking insane?”

Jazz just laughs harder, her forehead on Jason's chest, her arm still firmly kept in his hand. “Now we both know you would catch me.”

“You are so full of shit,” he grumbles, but the vibration on his skin manages to calm his heart back to a rational tempo. “You could have died.” It makes her burst out into a fit of giggles. “I got shot last night, you dipshit, I wouldn't be able to jump after you.” Not to mention the lack of proper equipment.

“Sorry I needed an outlet after literally saving your ass.”

Jason closes his eyes, trying to contain the laughter, “I will push you.” The wound was on his inner thigh, not his ass, so she can fuck right off for all he cares.

“I'd like to see you try,” she bites back. “You should have this checked out, by the way. Are you even vaccinated?”

“No need to.”

“I'll drive,” she gets off him, deaf to anything he says, and starts to climb down.

Jason follows. She doesn't even know the address. “Like hell, you will.”

[rainyyynightssss]

Twisted Wonderland

Reacting to you trying to go back home

Characters: Overblotters

Notes: Yandere/Toxic themes involved

"Crowley thinks he might've found a way for me to get back home!"

Riddle Rosehearts

He looks at your smiling face and something in him breaks. He should be happy for you, he really should. This is what you had wanted from the beginning. To see your family and friends. To be free of magic and almost getting killed by overblots.

But you should've been happy here. He'd order his card soldiers to keep the rose garden in prim condition for you to gaze upon whenever you visited. The birthday parties always included a dish you liked. You got along well with Trey and Cater. Sure, Riddle was strict with his rules, but he grew more lenient with you. Surely, you could see that.

"That's wonderful news. And you're...happy to leave?" He tries not to let his voice crack as he grips one of the legs of the table they had just used to share dinner together. Apparently for the last time.

"Of course, I'll be happy to see everyone back home. It is a bittersweet feeling though. I'll miss you all." He chooses to ignore the 'all' part of your phrasing for a moment. You'd miss him and isn't that enough reason not to go?

"We'd all miss you as well....I, especially,-"

"But I think it'll be good for me to go and be back with my family, you know?" You add and he tenses again. He knows well how important family could be, and he also knows how burdensome they are. His mother forced him to adhere to strict guidelines, and while it shaped him into the respected house warden he is today, it also made him afraid. Terrified, even, that everything would go wrong if the rules were not followed.

Perhaps that's what you needed. A healthy dosage of fear and some rules to keep you in line. You were his perfect rose, blooming and unblemished. You had always managed to drag him away when he got too deep in his studies and talked him down when his face became as red as the flowers in his garden. But now your edges have grown frayed. You're trying to go back to your roots but he'd rip you out of the ground, thorns and all, to keep that from happening.

"Right. Well, it's gotten quite late and it wouldn't be proper for you to walk back to Ramshackle this late at night." He sensed your confusion even before you could voice it. You've taken plenty of late-night walks before and this would hardly be on the top list of most dangerous things you've done at the school.

"I can walk back-"

"I insist. I couldn't let you go...to your dorm! This late." Riddle shakes his head and covers his blushing face with a hand as he stands up from the table. "I have a room for you. If you'll take it?" He offers his hand to you, hoping you will miss the small trembles.

You smile at him again and take his hand, sending warmth even through his gloves.

"Just for tonight." You nod. Riddle gives you a small, though tight at the ends. His rose didn't need to know about the details of their stay, only that it was going to last longer than they thought.

"Of course. Although I must make sure you have an adequate stay. Rules indicate that guests should have the most hospitable experience, no matter how long that takes to fulfill." Riddle answers with ease and you see nothing wrong with it. His rose would blossom even more under his careful watch.

Leona Kingscholar

"And?"

The notion of you leaving was laughable to him. You had already managed to barge your way into his life, ruining his plans at the Spelldrive competition, ruining his nap routines, and ruining his pride as a prince. And he wouldn't have it any other way. Though the latter is still mostly kept intact.

You look at him, seemingly flabbergasted by his dismissal.

"And...that means I'll likely be leaving soon." You tell him. He sees your small frown. You must think he doesn't care that you're leaving. But it was quite the opposite. As much as he would never admit it to himself, he cares so much that he denies any possibility of it happening. He knows you don't actually want to leave.

Leona watches you sit up from his bed that both of you had been lying in for the past few hours. He grasps your wrist before it can leave the sheets. His grip is tighter than usual. Leona had always been like that. He demanded respect and expected you to follow. You, of course, were not so willingly submissive to him but that made it all the more fun for him to make you.

"Ruggie isn't going to be back 'till later tonight. I've got more sleep to catch up on. Especially after you bothered me last night." Leona tugs your wrist to bring you back closer to him while he rests his other arm under his head.  Last night you had came to him, clearly anxious about something and didn't want to be alone. Anyone else he would have turned away with a scoff, but he's found over time that he has a hard time refusing you. As long as it didn't involve you trying to run away from him.

"Are you even listening to me?" You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks.

"I have and it sounds like a buncha nonsense. Go back to sleep and maybe you'll forget your dumb ideas in the morning." Leona grumbles and pulls you to his chest. He hears you huff but you don't resist, lying back down beside him. He doesn't know exactly why you're having these kinds of thoughts but it doesn't really matter to him. If you want to run, he is glad to give his precious prey a chase.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul's hands freeze in the air, his fork and knife about to cut into the juicy salmon that had been plated beautifully in front of him. He glances up at you, his smile also frozen on his face, as you were just talking about how much you enjoyed Night Raven College and the Mostro Lounge. All until you abruptly switched to this topic he thought he was doing a good job at evading.

"Ah, isn't that...delightful?" His words would have come off as calm to anyone else, but you notice the slight strain in his voice. You always seem to see right through him.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you-"

"Upset me? No, quite the contrary. I think it's wonderful the headmaster has finally secured your passage back home." Azul muses and goes back to cutting his salmon, though it's obvious that his cuts are a bit more jagged.

"Yes... he said it could be any day now." You respond carefully. You try to offer him a smile as you take another sip of the drink he gave you on the house. He could see the small ounce of hope in your eyes of going back to your world. That wouldn't do.

"Is that so?" Azul takes a bite of his food, swallowing before adding, "It's really too bad you won't be able to go then." He continues eating, ignoring your confused eyes as if he didn't just say the strangest thing.

"Why wouldn't I be able to go?" You ask slowly. "I mean, the transportation might be difficult but-"

"It has been a while so I suppose I shouldn't be surprised you forgot." Azul sighs and dabs his face free of any smudges with his napkin. "You may not step out of the bounds of Night Raven College by any means, including the Dark Mirror."

"According to who?" You let out a disbelieving laugh.

"According to Article 3 Section 5 of the contract you signed." Azul takes another bite of the salmon, not letting himself react when you slam a hand on the table.

"What contract?! I never signed anything!" You snapped. He remains as calm as ever. This time, you couldn't read him, couldn't even see his eyes through the glint in his glasses.

"You must remember when you agreed to work in the Mostro Lounge for a couple months. I had you sign an employment contract. I warned you about reading it through to the end. A suggestion I don't give to most poor, unfortunate souls in this school." Azul answers.

He did indeed give you the small packet to look through and recommended reading it all. It wasn't his fault that Floyd made a commotion in the kitchen just as you started reading the end portion. Azul urged you to sign it while he dealt with the mess that Floyd undoubtedly caused and you did, just missing the statement that required you to be on-call even after your employment ended, and being on-call meant you always had to be within a certain range of the lounge.

"You can't be serious." You utter quietly with wide eyes, realizing exactly what he was talking about.

"I'm afraid I am. But don't fret too much. I think you'll come to like it here." Azul smiles again. A smile that's hardly recognizable.

He watches you jump up from the table and storm out of the lounge, passing confused customers who glance back at him. He takes a drink from his glass. Azul isn't worried about you walking out. You couldn't leave here, leave him, anyway. And if you tried to hide from him, he would just send Jade and Floyd to hunt you down. You have become one of his prized possessions, and he isn't going to let you go that easily.

Jamil Viper

"Really? It's about time." Jamil comments as he starts chopping the vegetables you prepared in a bowl.

He had invited you to try some new recipes with him that he'd then distribute to the Scarabia students. For the past few months, you had been inviting yourself into their kitchen, much to Jamil's annoyance. You always offered to help him and he always declined, especially when it came to Kalim's meals. He was not going to lose his job over a pretty face. You respected his refusals but you still liked to watch him for some odd reason. Today, he finally decided to let you help him.

He appears to be half paying attention to your words while you're stirring the stew. "Haven't you been waiting a while?"

"I have. Crowley's been pushing off researching but I finally made him go through with it!" You look quite proud of yourself and if Jamil wasn't so irritated, he might have thought it was cute.

He simply hums in response and continues swiping his blade through the onion, each cut sharper than the next. He should be fine with you leaving. People come and go, after all. It would make things easier for him as well. He would stop getting distracted so easily, riddling his fingers with knicks from the blade when his thoughts drifted off to you.

"Kalim also promised to help me pack my stuff. He's eager for me to see my family." He sees you smile absentmindedly as you stir. Jamil's hand clenches tighter on the knife.

"Of course he did." He mutters to himself. Kalim got everything we wanted, didn't he? He got the wins, the praise, the Housewarden title. And now he was going to send you off. Jamil bet he was even encouraging you to go and like always, Jamil would just have to accept it. Only this time, he wouldn't. Jamil never got anything he could have to himself, always having to share with Kalim. You would be the one thing he could keep just for him.

"That reminds me, I needed to ask you something," Jamil says and you look back at him. He takes a step closer to you and leans forward, whispering the name of his unique magic. His lips widen into a smirk as he watches your irises fade to red.

"You'll be staying here, won't you?"

Vil Schoenheit

He raises a perfectly trimmed eyebrow as he works to pluck yours with tweezers.

"Hm? That's not the line, darling," Vil says. In your hands is the large packet of paper that contains Vil's script for his upcoming film. He had asked you to practice lines with him. You agreed and in exchange, you asked him to put some makeup on you. It was something he's been wanting to do anyway so he obliged. All was going well until you dropped this bombshell on him.

"I know, I was trying to figure out how to tell you and I accidentally just blurted it out," You sigh.

"Mhm. And Crowley has- Close your eyes, now - provided a way for you to get back home safely?" Vil asks as he moves on to your eyes, brushing an eye shadow across your lids that matches your skin.

"I don't know if anything about that man is safe, per say, but he did seem pretty confident about this." You respond as you keep your eyes closed for him. Vil shakes his head with a small 'tut'. The headmaster didn't exactly have a track record for reliability. He voiced exactly this to you.

"Crowley may just end up sending you on a one-way ride to nowhere. There's no telling where he could send you, why not wait for a few trial runs?" He places a hand under your chin. "And besides, why do you need to go home so badly?" Vil puts the palette back down and takes a tube of lipstick in his hand.

"Well, I want to see my fam-" You're forced to stop talking until he finishes applying the lipstick, "I want to see my family and finish everything I had going on there."

"If that's the case, I don't see what you could do back home that you're unable to here. And if you want to see your family, shouldn't you make sure your travel is safe so you can get back to them in the first place?" Vil questions as he wipes the small smudge of lipstick from the bottom of your lip with his thumb.

"That's...true." You nod reluctantly. Vil smirks a bit as he moves his hand towards the back of your neck, his thumb tilting your head up so you can look at him properly.

"Correct. And if I'm not mistaken, you've built quite the life here, haven't you?" He watches you slowly nod and he soothes the back of your neck with gentle fingers.

"You really want to throw that all away?" Vil looks down at you with questioning eyes even though he already knows the answer. You shake your head.

"No...but I also know that's something I'll have to do if I want to go home." You tell him firmly. Vil lets out a sigh and turns away from you for a moment.

"If you say so, but at least let me leave you with a parting gift." He turns back towards you and presents a small perfume bottle with a fancy font across the lid that you can hardly. It would no doubt cost hundreds in the market.

"My own creation that I've been working on. You're the first to have it." Vil says as he hands it over. You take it with a bright smile.

"Thank you! I'll try it on as soon as I get back to Ramshackle." You respond excitedly as you move to stand up from his makeup chair but he places a gentle hand on your wrist.

"I'd like to hear your critique as soon as possible. You are my perfect model, after all." He says with a glint in his eyes. You didn't seem to have any problem with that and sprayed a few spritz of the perfume on yourself, promptly passing out in the chair. You would get it through your head eventually that you belong here. You just need a little more convincing.

Idia Shroud

"Hold up, what?"

Your sudden words caused him to press the wrong button and his character gets brutally killed by one of the forest monsters in the game. You wince and put down your controller, turning towards him on his remarkably soft couch.

"Yeah...sorry to tell you so late but it looks like it could be soon." You say and Idia tosses his controller to the side, facing you as well.

"So you're gonna go? Just like that?" He asks in shock. You only recently just started playing video games with him in his room. Before, you had to practically beg him just to play a game with you when you were both in different dorms. It took a lot of convincing but he soon gave in after some persuasion from his brother. Once, you showed up to his room to see if you could play in person and he stared at you with wide eyes for about five seconds before slamming the door in your face, apologizing later over text.

He was unbearably anxious around you at first but he got used to the idea that you wouldn't judge him so easily. So he showed you another side, his more competitive and ill-mannered side to see if that would make you go away. And you still didn't. You instead embraced him for it. So why now were you just going to forget about all that?

"I-I mean I have to," You were clearly caught off guard by the intense look in his eyes, "I have a home and a family and friends-"

"Yeah, yeah, sure but what about everything you have here?" Idia insists.

"Everything I have here?" You ask.

"Y-Yeah, those first years, Grim, your dorm, me- many other things!" He stammers out. It would be way too cringe to mention himself deep down he hopes he's one of the things that could keep you here.

"Of course I'll miss everyone, but I miss everyone back home too," You say. Idia sighs deeply as he throws his head back on the couch.

"You're reallly set on this, huh?" Idia asks. You bite your lip and nod.

"But I still-" You try to add but he cuts you off.

"No, I get it. I wouldn't wanna be around me either." Idia sighs again. You look at him with wide eyes and fervently shake your head.

"No, it's not like-"

"You must have better friends back home if you're so desperate to see them again." He adds as he looks away with a frown. You don't notice him peeking back at you. You sigh and tilt your head so you can fully meet his gaze.

"Look, I'll talk to Crowley, see if he can push it back a bit." You tell him. He looks at you curiously.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna pressure you if-"

"No, it's okay. I want to spend more time with you and everyone anyway." You give him a small smile and he smiles back. He could play the pity card all day if it meant you'd stay.

Malleus Draconia

Malleus pauses in his steps, looking at you with a wide, curious gaze.

"You're leaving?" He utters. The two of you had been enjoying your nightly walks together back to Ramshackle. After one too many fights and attacks happening after hours on campus, he thought it best to escort you back home. He could easily teleport you both back to your dorm, but it gave him a good excuse to be around you more.

"Yes, hopefully it'll be soon. I'm excited to go back!" You smile enthusiastically and Malleus can only offer a grimace back.

"I suppose you could say I'm a little surprised. I thought you were happy here. Did I assume wrong?" He asks as he continues walking you to your dorm. Normally you would have never been able to keep up with his pace but he always kept a slower one for you.

"Oh no, I am happy here. My friends have been wonderful and I'm glad I'm friends with you. There's just some things I could do without." You mention offhandedly as you gaze up at the moon. He looks down to see it reflected in your eyes. The moon is wondrous but all he can see are the eyes that pinned a man who could never yield so deeply. You managed to befriend a dragon who is intimidating in every manner. That kind of connection isn't so flimsy that it could be dismissed by thoughts of departure.

"Things such as what?" Malleus perks up at the idea of solving one of your problems. As powerful as he is, there are a number of things he can't help you with. He couldn't do anything about your assignment getting deleted after your internet 'crashed' or about the friendship problems you once had with the Heartslabyul boys, but he's always eager to listen, just as you always do with him.

"It's just some rowdy guys from Savanaclaw who are still mad about the Spelldrive competition. They've been bothering me a bit but it's not a big deal." You tell him and he stops the both of you this time with a hand on your shoulder.

"Bothering you? For how long?" Malleus didn't mean to turn his hard glare on you but he couldn't help the fury building up inside of him. Many of the students already noticed your looming shadow that often followed you around like a lost puppy, which was usually enough to keep them from trying anything. Malleus isn't naive enough to believe that students at this school are always on their best behavior when he has his own business to deal with in the Diasomnia dorm. However, he swiftly and discretely took care of any nuisances that he happened to notice. He didn't think you were keeping anything from him.

"Like I said, it's not-" You try to soothe him but his glare only hardens.

"For how long?" Malleus repeats and he doesn't plan to a third time.

"For about a month now...but I can handle it myself!" You insist but he ignores the latter half of your sentence as his face morphs back into a gentler one.

"So that's what's been burdening you? I wish you'd have told me sooner but it's no matter. I'll take care of it." Malleus assures you.

"I mean that's one thing, but I have other reasons-" He cuts you off with a pat on your head as the two of you stop in front of Ramshackle's doors.

"You don't have to ruminate on it any longer. Do try to tell me about any other troublesome students in the future. I'll handle them and anyone else who tries to ruin your happiness here at Night Raven College." He vanishes in a flurry of lights before you can say a word. Any serious notion of you leaving is unthinkable to him, and if you do come up with more reasons, he'll make sure to take care of those as well.

[loulovingho]

Prompt: I've been thinking about a mixture of posts on here and I'd really love Tommy going to talk to Eddie because, maybe Eddie isn't being a great friend? I've read some people think Eddie would fall in line with Gerrard (due to being in the army etc.) and I'd love to see a Tommy/Eddie argument!

When Eddie got a knock on his door at 9pm on a Tuesday, he wasn't sure who to expect. He hadn't gotten a call or text from anyone, and he hadn't ordered any food. He figured he'd be arguing with Jehovah's Witnesses, asking them why the hell they were knocking on his door so late? Usually he'd avoid them altogether, but a little piece of him felt like arguing, so he swung the door open with a dramatic sigh.

He was surprised to see Tommy on the other side of the door, hand raised in a fist, ready to knock again.

“Oh. Hey, Tommy. I wasn't expecting you, was I?”

“Um, no. Can I come in for a sec?”

“Sure.” Eddie moved out of the way so Tommy could come inside, closing the door behind him. “Want a beer or something?”

“No, I really can't stay long. I'm heading to Evan's after this.”

Right. Buck. He should've known he'd be getting a visit from Tommy. Buck hadn't exactly left work, or Eddie, on good terms two days ago. Things had been tense for a few weeks now, actually. Everything had slowly been bubbling up until Buck finally burst under the pressure and was sent home early for insubordination. He'd actually been told not to return until he could learn proper chain of command, and if he couldn't learn within a week, he should start searching for a new career path.

“Is Buck the one who sent you?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Tommy shook his head. “No. No one sent me.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. “So you're not here to kick my ass?”

“Should I be?”

“I don't know,” Eddie answered honestly. “I don't know what you've been told.”

It was kind of a ridiculous sight right now, if you asked Eddie. Two grown men, friends for months now, standing awkwardly in his living room. Neither making any effort to sit or get more comfortable.

“Evan's been having a rough time with Gerrard,” Tommy started. “Sounds like he's Gerrard's main target.”

Eddie shrugged. “Gerrard likes to push buttons. Buck's buttons are easy to push.”

“Last week he asked Evan if he'd like a bra to go with the apron he wore while cooking.” Tommy tensed even as he spoke the words. “That doesn't just sound like pressing buttons to me.”

“He's a wannabe drill sergeant pissed about the fact he never made it through basic training. You do what he says, keep quiet, use your manners, and make him feel like he's the most important person in the room. That's how you get through a shift.” Eddie moved to sit on the couch, but Tommy remained standing. “You know how this works the same as I do,” he added.

“Yeah, I do,” Tommy agreed, although his voice was a bit more commanding now. “Probably better than you do, actually. Doesn't make it okay.”

Eddie sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Why are you here, Tommy? I'm tired.”

“To try and stop you from becoming me, you idiot. I've been where you are. I've sat beside Gerrard and watched him treat person after person like nothing but garbage. I kept quiet, I made him feel important, I followed behind him like I was his damn puppy dog. I called him sir, I did whatever he asked, I laughed along with his jokes. You know what that made me?”

Eddie was starting to get annoyed. “What?”

“Him. I was no better than him.”

Eddie's eyes darkened. He stood back up, taking a step toward Tommy. “Are you seriously comparing me to that piece of crap?”

“If the mustache fits.”

“You need to get out of my house now,” Eddie warned. He could feel his body filling with the same boiling rage that got him thrown in jail a few years ago. He didn't need that to happen again.

“You repeat to me what Gerrard told Evan two days ago and I'll go,” Tommy offered. “Tell me what Gerrard said that finally made him explode and I'll leave.”

“Or I can call the cops on you for trespassing,” Eddie replied, moving to the door and opening it.

Tommy made no effort to leave. “Go for it.”

They stared at each other for a moment, Eddie's chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. When Eddie realized Tommy was never going to back down, his shoulders slumped. “Come on, Man, just leave.”

Tommy doubled down. “Tell me what he said,” he demanded, speaking each work slowly and carefully.

“H- He... God, Tommy.” He looked away from him, unable to maintain eye contact as he recalled the event. “Buck fell while we were at a scene, bruised his tailbone. When we were sitting down to eat, Buck moved slow. He winced when he finally got seated... Gerrard saw and said th- that maybe if he... if he spent less time taking and more time giving he wouldn't have so much trouble.”

“But,” Tommy beckoned for him to continue.

Eddie took a deep breath. “But he should have expected Buck to be the woman.”

Tommy nodded. “There it is.”

“Listen, Tommy, I-”

“He could've really used someone sticking up for him. One person to step in and tell Gerrard he'd crossed a line. I get that Hen can't do anything right now. She can't risk not getting Mara back. And I know Howie can't do anything to lose Mara. But you could have said something, Eddie. You could have been there for him, but you weren't.”

And there was the anger again. “Why the hell is it on me?!” he exclaimed. “I've been going through my own crap, and it's not like you or Buck have really been around to help me out.”

“Oh, you cannot be serious right now.” Tommy's posture straightened, his body somehow becoming even wider and taller. It would have caused Eddie to pause and think about what was about to come out of his mouth if he wasn't so mad.

“Yeah, I am serious. I've needed people too, Tommy, but you guys have been too busy with each other to even notice.”

“You made the mess you're in right now, Eddie!” Tommy yelled. “You did that! You screwed up and it's on you to fix it! But Evan didn't do anything wrong. He sure as hell didn't deserve to be talked to like that, and now his job is on the line because you decided keeping the peace with a piece of scum like Gerrard was more important than speaking up for your supposed best friend. So, yeah, that's on you!” Tommy began to make his way to the door, ready to push past Eddie on his way, but Eddie wasn't finished.

“Hey!” He yelled, shoving Tommy back so he couldn't leave. “I've been trying to fix everything on my own! Trying to get my own life back! Hell, I just got to talk to my kid for the first time in over a month!”

“And who you think got Christopher to answer the damn phone?!”

It felt like all the air had suddenly been sucked out of Eddie's lungs. He stood there, his mouth hanging open as he tried to find the right words to speak. “I... Buck's been talking to Christopher?”

“Every day,” Tommy confirmed. “He calls or texts. Facetime's him every once in a while too. He's been telling Chris how you're doing, trying to get him to call you or text you. He even suggested writing you a letter.”

“I didn't know that.”

“He didn't really want you to. Christopher had promised him the next time you tried to call, he'd answer. Evan's been like a kid on Christmas Eve, excited for you to tell him how it went after you two talked.”

Eddie didn't know what to say. He wasn't angry anymore, just incredibly disappointed with himself.

“He's always had your back, Eddie,” Tommy said, making his way out the door. Eddie didn't stop him this time. “It'd be really nice if you had his.”

[charliemwrites]

Part 5 of Obsessive!johnny

(CW: extremely dubious consent; I’d go so far as to say straight non-con. No violence. Please be safe, beans! 💕)

It’s your own fault - or no. That’s a dangerous way of thinking it not your fault. But you got complacent. Got desensitized to that looming sense of danger, the threat hiding in the shadow of his eyes. That little voice in the back of your head became background noise, not the guide it used to be.

All it took was a slip of your carefully crafted mask understanding Johnny’s “love” for you. Just one careless comment, a tone too honest.

You don’t even remember what you said now. Just that the feverish light in his eyes changed instantly. Like a shift in sunlight through colored glass. What frightened you was how his expression changed, shut down hard. His jaw tensing, brows going deceptively smooth.

“Is all this not enough for you?” he asks, taking big, measured steps towards you.

You start backing up, heart tripping over itself. “That’s not-“

“How many ways do you need me to prove it, hm?” he asks. “I’ve apologized a hundred times, bonnie, haven’t I? Is that not enough for you? I’m still not worth it to you?”

You put your hands up, all your carefully crafted and scripted responses fleeing in the face of this new, unfamiliar Johnny. He’s - he’s angry at you. Not because of you, or for you, but at you.

“I’ve been patient, haven’t I?” he continues, low voice wavering with something frightening. “Do you know how hard it is, seeing you cry for a life that wasn’t good enough for you? Do you have any idea how hard I’ve been trying?”

You swallow thickly, try to rally your scrambled thoughts. He just working himself up more and more and that voice that fell so quiet is screaming now. So loud it’s hard to make your mouth work.

“I-I know. I’m sorry,” you manage. “Im just… I lost my temper and said something I didn’t mean…”

His eyes narrow. “Oh, no, hen. I think you meant it.”

He up close to you now, barely a centimeter of space between your bodies. The heat of him is suffocating. You’ve never been so aware of how much bigger than you he is. It thrilled you when he’d loom over you at the bar, cocky confidence and easy smiles.

You meet his eyes.

And for a moment, he softens. You have the briefest golden flicker of hope.

And then he sighs. Deep and resigned. Your stomach flips.

“It’s my fault,” he mutters finally, shaking his head. “Haven’t been treating you right, have I?”

You don’t dare answer.

“Treating you like you’re one thing when you’re really everything.”

You open your mouth, try to speak, to reason with him. He just shushes you with a hand on your cheek, thumb pressing your lips closed.

“Always spoiling you like the princess you are, when sometimes you need to be treated like a slut.”

He jerk’s you around and shoves you onto the bed, plants a big hand between your shoulder blades and presses.

“Soap!”

“Hush up, baby, it’s alright. You don’t have to pretend to be all prim and proper,” he soothes, knocking your feet apart. “I don’t think any less of you for needing cock. Only natural.”

Your underwear rips like wet paper, accompanied by your high-pitched squeal of alarm. He makes a low, rough noise. Pure, animal lust. The fabric of his pants chafes against the backs of your thighs.

“Oh, there she is,” he purrs, “just like I thought.”

You cry out as rough fingers drag through your slit, gathering the slick you can’t believe is leaking from you.

“I’ve been so bad to you, bonnie, not treating you the way you need. No wonder you got all fussy and snappy.” The hazy thought that he might not he talking to you at all anymore burns through you. When you shift, trying to close your legs self-consciously, a sharp slap to your clit collapses your knees.

“We’re gonna set you right, babygirl,” he growls. “Won’t be able to worry your pretty little head anymore.”

He plunges two fingers into you without preamble. The stretch is vicious, but it doesn’t hurt. Not really. You’re too wet. Still, you scream - because Johnny’s spent so many hours playing with you, learning you, that he knows exactly where to press and curl and rub his fingers.

“Wait, wait,” you gasp, tears already collecting in your eyes because he’s being mean about it, twisting to grind his thumb against your clit. It’s too much, you’re not ready no matter what your body says. “Soap, don’t- ngh!”

“Gonna show you why you’re better off here. Right here. Gonna give this pretty cunt what it needs.”

The third finger is a stretch. You try to get away, try to crawl onto the bed to run, but he stomps a boot onto the chain around your ankle and flattens you to the mattress.

“Keep pretending if you want, baby,” he murmurs, “I know what you really need now.”

He’s withdrawing his fingers while you’re still pleading and babbling. You’re horrified to realize you don’t know if you want them back. It doesn’t matter though. Because Johnny’s cock is splitting you open before you can decide, thicker and longer than you’ve ever taken. He curses and groans as he pushes into you, inch by hot inch. Until you feel the fat leaking head tap at your cervix and he grinds, balls kissing your clit.

“T-too much!” you sob. “‘S too much!! Johnny, Johnny, please!”

Heat floods you as he shudders, hips jerking hard and rough. By your head, his fist is white-knuckled in the sheets.

“Did… did you just…?”

“Say my name again,” he snarls.

You blink wetly. “W-wha…?”

“Say. It. Again.” Each word punctuated by a brutal thrust. Something drips down your thigh.

“J-Johnny,” you keen, trying to beg for mercy.

“Jus’ like that.” He’s still hard. Still so fucking hard it’s like you’ve been edging him for hours. Like he didn’t just flood your poor pussy with cum.

“Been dreaming of you saying my name. Haven’t all this time,” he pants, rocking into you hard and fast. Any semblance of restraint is long gone. “Now I know why. Finally fuckin’ earned it. Gonna keep earnin’ it from now on.”

He fucks you so hard the bed leaves dents in the wall. Forces a hand beneath your pelvis to pinch your clit between two fingers and hurtles you shrieking into an orgasm. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t pause for a single beat. Just hitches your knee up onto the mattress and somehow fucks into your harder, faster, deeper. His fingers rub cruel circles into your oversensitive clit and you burn.

“No, no, wait, Johnny- ah! No, I’m gonna - it feels like-”

Wet heat gushes from you, spilling down your thighs, all over the bed and floor. You - you -

“Fuck, you squirted everywhere, good fuckin’ girl, princess.” He slows just a bit, presumably to appreciate the mess you’ve made. You’re too far gone on shock and awful pleasure to do more than sniffle and hiccup pathetically.

And then a death sentence.

“Do it again.”

[princessbellecerise]

Worth The Wait

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | Jace spends your entire courtship denying you the pleasures of what you really want. Now that it’s the night of your wedding, he has every intention of making it worth the wait

warnings | husband!jace, first time wedding smut, creampie

this is an eighteen plus fic. minors please do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

Jacaerys never let himself have his way with you until your wedding night.

Before that, he’d always cut you off, not letting anything get too far because of his honor. He was so righteous that it nearly made you blind with rage every time he stopped you when you were right there, so close to having him inside of you but stopped every time by his last minute morals.

Jacaerys was a good man and you suffered for it; always being left aching and denied what you truly wanted. But of course, as heir, he knew he couldn’t touch you until your wedding night. The gods, his mother and his reputation frowned upon it. Jacaerys would do not such thing as dishonor you, so he waited.

And waited.

And suddenly, it was the night of your wedding feast and Jacaerys could not bring himself to think of anything expect for you. How good you looked in your gown, the lights seemingly adorning your face.

Marriage looked so good on you that he can hardly contain himself. He grows desperate with each passing minute, strained smiles and polite yet brief words being exchanged with everyone that approaches to congratulate him. A few people even make him laugh and like the future king he is, Jace does not show his true emotions.

He does not show how desperately he wants you, his wife whom he’s denied pleasure so much. He keeps his composure but Jacaerys is suffering, agonizingly and and eagerly awaiting for the sun to go down.

Of course, you take note of his angst and worry that something is wrong with your husband. Or worse—that he’s unhappy to the point where he doesn’t even want to eat.

He hasn’t touched his food since it was brought out and worriedly, you lean over to ask him about his lack of appetite.

You have to admit; you weren’t expecting the response that you got. Words from his mouth that send pure heat through your body and made you feel hot from your heels to your head.

“I am fine, my princess. I am simply not hungry because it is not roast I wish to feast upon right now,” He tells you, and suddenly everything makes since.

Why he’s so tense. Why Jacaerys looks like he cannot wait to leave this damn dinner. And suddenly, your mouth drops into an ‘o’ shape. A smirk slowly adorning your lips because now Jacaerys knows what it feels like. He knows what it’s like to be left waiting, wondering and lusting for the opportunity.

In a way, it sort of makes you satisfied that he has to wait.

Only when the sun goes down is it proper for him to finally announce your fair wells, grabbing your hand and all but dragging you towards your now shared chambers.

Everyone is looking at the two of you, cheering and congratulating you both as you walk though the congregational of people. Friends and allies alike clap Jace on the back and wink at you as your grip on his hand tightens.

With a strained smile, Jace politely nods back but does not entertain their jesting. You’re grateful, because even though what you’re about to do is an open secret, it’s still embarrassing.

Thankfully, there would be no bedding ceremony, Jacaerys way too much of a gentleman to let that happen to you. Instead, it’s only you and him and the flames of desire that grow between the two of you as you walk through the halls.

It burns—it really does. The heat and the longing between you two is almost unbearable as you finally make it behind closed doors, barely locking it before Jacaerys grabs you and jumps you.

You’re surprised, yelping when your husband scoops you into his arms and kisses you without so much as a word.

His hot mouth covers your groans and while it is unexpected, you welcome it.

His kiss is fierce, so passionate that it nearly knocks you to your knees. Jacaerys has clearly grown desperate during the hours of waiting, the future king nearly rabid as he pokes and prods at your clothing.

Never have you seen him in such a way, so ungentleman-like as he drags you to the floor. You don’t even make it to the bed because Jacaerys is so needy, getting you naked in no time while also landing sloppy kisses on your neck.

It ignites an unimaginable fire in your belly to see him so frantic for you. To see him finally give in and want to fuck you like you’ve previously begged for.

Now that his honor isn’t at stake, Jacaerys is not holding back. He’s adamant about what he wants and he wants you; all of you.

You two lay bare before one another and then it’s time; Jace settling himself at your hole and running his cock head against your slick folds.

He’s done this many times before. You’ve been here before, and every time this was the moment that Jace pulled back. Just when he was about to push into you, his sense would smack him in the face and off of you he went.

This was always the stage of stopping but this time there was no return. You found yourself almost opening your mouth, so used to having to beg him for friction.

“Just the tip, at least the tip. Please Jace.” Is what you used to beg for.

Now, it shocks you when he says nothing. Does nothing to pull away, only kisses you so hard it makes your head spin and your lips throb from where he cut it earlier.

He’s so feverish that it hurts, hurts so good to know he finally desires you. To know that this will be the time he doesn’t stop, the time you don’t beg.

Now, it is him that is at his wits ends as he lays his forehead against yours. When it’s time to push himself in, Jacaerys finally speaks. Brown eyes blown from desire, the future king is barely able to hold himself back, but he does.

“Do you wish for me to warm you first, sweetling?” He asks, and it’s not so much as an offer as it is his morals shining through. Jace wants absolutely nothing except to fuck you into oblivion, but he’s kind.

He asks before taking your maidenhood even though he’s shaking at your entrance, will power faltering the longer you contemplate your answer.

He almost cries when he sees you shake your head, breathing a sigh of relief and pursing his pink lips together while nodding. He understands.

“They’ll be time for that later,” You tell him and he’s relived. Back to the mission of penetrating you before you suddenly get an idea, finding yourself stopping him one last time just to be cruel.

“Wait!” You take the role of Jacaerys, and he you as he stares at you with wide eyes. Hungry eyes that are confused and frustrated as you look at him.

“What is it, my love?” He asks slowly.

A crude smirk falls upon your lips. “Maybe we should wait,” You tell him bashfully, loving the way he reels back. The bewilderment in his expression is finally enough to satisfy your revenge for a lifetime, and you want to laugh when he finally feels what you feel. “Maybe we shouldn’t…dishonor ourselves this way. We should wait for marriage, you know? That way—”

You gasp to the high heavens as your cruel joke is suddenly cut off by Jacaerys pushing himself inside of you. In no mood to jest, he takes what he wants and finally eases himself in your core.

You were being cruel to him, he justifies. Jacaerys is a kind man that does not take lightly to cruelty.

You moan out as pleasure graces your lower regions and stare at your husband in shock as his face shows all seriousness. Out of all things, you weren’t expecting for him to do that. To take control in way he’d never shown before.

“Do not jest with me, wife. Not tonight of all nights. Do not deny your husband such pleasure,” He growls in your ear as he finally stills.

Still stunned, you simply lay there and relish in the feeling of him on top of you. Seven hells, you have half a mind to cry with relief but you don’t want him to mistake yours tears for pain.

In fact, it’s quite the opposite and though you told yourself no more begging, you find that you do it anyways as you wrap your legs around him. Pulling him close so that Jacaerys is really and truly inside of you, just as your husband should be.

“I’m sorry, my love. Please forgive me—I won’t do it again,” You whisper desperately, desire clawing at your every atom. You need him to move, you need him to finish what he started; to complete what you’ve craved for what seems like forever now.

It would only be fair after denying you that pleasure for half a year.

“Good.”

Jacaerys growls this and that is when you feel him start to move, his hips snapping into yours as his lips find your own. You moan as his cock thrusts his way through your unexplored folds, reaching depths and pleasures you never thought possible.

You clench around him and move your lips, loving the way he groans and pants into your mouth. Your legs still find themselves wrapped around his waist, enticing your love to go deeper, faster, harder.

You need him and he needs you.

His strokes are those of desperation, chasing every feeling he had ran away from you. Chasing those previous nights where he had denied you his cock, denied himself of the pelasure that he was feeling right now.

The feeling of you wrapped around his cock was one that was indescribable. If anyone ever asked, which he doubted they would (expect for Luke, maybe) then Jacaerys would simply have to stare at them, mouth open like it was now.

For what could he say, other than his beloved was inciting things from his body that he had never felt before? Providing him with pleasure and ecstasy that took his breath away more than his first dragon ride.

These feelings lifted him higher than that, higher than Vermax souring through the clouds and he screwed his eyes shut as he saviored the flavors of your cunt.

Soft and wet and warm and his prison that he’d gladly rot away in. If Jacaerys could spend the rest of his days inside of you he’d be a happy man. He’d give up the iron throne, burn the skies and every village if it meant feeling your warmth.

He’d do it all.

He would give you his all, steadying his pace so that you might taste the same drops of pleasure he was experiencing. So that you might throw your head back in ecstasy like he did, identical moans leaving the two of you as you came undone.

For you, it came in the form of clenching down on Jace’s cock, crying out as your peak hit you violently. You panted, biting into his shoulder as he did yours and rocking your hips to the sensation.

For Jacaerys, it came in the form of hot spurts, coating your walls with his seed like a good husband should. Like a good king, who would surely need to provide heirs one day.

You were all too willing to compete this task, sucking him in, milking him of his children until Jacaerys had nothing left to give. Until he was an empty shell above you, eyes closed and utterly exhausted as he rolled to the floor beside you.

It took a few minutes for anything expect for your heavy panting to fill the room. Both you and Jace were dazed, still out of it and not quite sure what had just happened. Still experiencing the bliss from your first night of marriage. One, that if anything, indicated that a good marriage was on the horizon indeed.

For you, the night had been everything you hoped for and more. Worth the wait, which you were sure that Jacaerys appreciated now that his honor and his cock reminded satified.

Perhaps the two could co-exist now, you concluded. Staring at your beloved as he turned to face you too, a small smile peaking at his lips.

“Iksin ziry worth se umbagon syt ao pār, ñuha jorrāelagon?” He asked, as shallow breaths overtook his body still. (Was it worth the wait then, my love?)

You grinned as you looked into his brown eyes and eagerly nodded, reminiscing on your peak that had happened only minutes before.

You were still dazed, still hazy but your mind was clear enough that you knew your answer before you uttered it. You loved this man, and you knew that you had made the right decision.

“Kessa, īles worth se umbagon indeed, ñuha jorrāelagon,” You promised softly, using the High Valerian he had taught you. Gazing into his eyes that had gone soft for you. That held love for you and silently promised you that this was it, that Jacaerys would always be worthy of anything till the end of your days. “Kesā va moriot sagon worth ziry naejot nyke.” (Yes, it was worth the wait indeed, my love. You will always be worth it to me.)

[rispwr]

If i were you i'd do me - JK - MDNI - 2

pairings : fuckboy! jk x fem! reader, established relationship, mentions of smart! namjoon x oc, slow burn, enemies to lovers

contents/warnings : rich! oc, nepo! oc, fuckboy! jk, rich! jk, slight love triangle, smut, spoiled! oc, jk, big c! jk, fingering, semi-public xxx

taglist : comment if yall wanna be added

context : Jungkook, the notorious campus heartbreaker and player, unexpectedly becomes your groupmate alongside Namjoon, the guy you’ve secretly admired for ages. However, it seems your feelings have started shifting from Namjoon to someone else entirely unexpected…

two or three part series

It had been a week and a half since the group project began, and we only had two days left before we were supposed to present. I couldn't believe how fast the deadline was approaching. Surprisingly, Jungkook and I had managed to get along a little better in the past few days, although our relationship was still complicated. There was definitely more tension between us—lots of bickering over small details in the project, but there was also something else. A weird undercurrent of sexual tension seemed to creep into our interactions, though I tried to ignore it as much as possible.

We were in class, and the professor was droning on about something I wasn't paying much attention to. My mind wandered, thinking about how we were going to pull everything together in just two days. Suddenly, I felt my phone vibrate in my lap. Curious, I glanced down at my screen under the table to see who had texted me. It was Jungkook.

Jungkook: Hey, princess. Got any plans after class?

I rolled my eyes, my lips curling into a small smirk. Of course, he couldn't just ask normally. I typed a quick response.

Y/N: Not unless you're counting trying to save our sorry excuse for a project.

Almost immediately, my phone buzzed again.

Jungkook: Touché. How about we finish it at my place? You, me... Namjoon. Group work, you know?

Y/N: Why at your place?

Jungkook: Because my place is more fun. And I can make you a proper coffee. You know you want to.

Y/N: Fine. But this better be about the project and nothing else.

Jungkook: Can't promise that ;) See you after class.

I shook my head at his winking emoji but couldn't deny the tiny thrill that ran through me. Whether it was the impending deadline or something else, the air between Jungkook and me had been charged with an underlying tension lately. I wasn't sure how to feel about it, but it was becoming harder to brush off.

Once we settled in Jungkook's place, the tension between us was unbearable. It had been building for days, and now, in the quiet of his living room, it felt like we were teetering on the edge of something we couldn't take back.

Jungkook sat next to me on the couch, his casual demeanor masking the intensity in the air. I opened my laptop, pretending to focus on the project, but my mind was far from it. I could feel his eyes on me, and when his hand casually drifted to rest on my thigh again, I froze.

"Have you eaten yet?" he asked, his voice low and smooth, like he wasn't fully paying attention to his own words but to the way my body tensed at his touch.

I forced myself to look at him, raising an eyebrow. "wow. you suddenly care about my wellbeing now?"

He smirked, that familiar cocky grin that always seemed to piss me off. "What? Can't a guy ask a simple question?"

I rolled my eyes and turned my gaze back to the screen. "Yeah, I ate. Did you?"

"Mmhmm," he murmured, not removing his hand, his fingers starting to gently trace little patterns on my thigh. "Just making sure you're not starving before we start working."

I bit my lip, trying to focus, but every nerve in my body was screaming at me to pay attention to his touch. His fingers were moving now, grazing my skin in slow, deliberate strokes, each one lighting a fire in my core.

I couldn't take it anymore. 

The tension, 

his hand, 

his stupid smirk

—it was all too much. I turned to face him, my chest rising and falling with barely concealed frustration. Before I could think about what I was doing, 

I grabbed his face and crashed my lips onto his.

The kiss was messy,

 desperate, fueled by all the frustration and tension that had been boiling over between us for weeks. He responded immediately, his hand tightening on my thigh, pulling me closer as he kissed me back just as fiercely. His other hand tangled in my hair, and for a moment, it felt like nothing else mattered except the way his lips moved against mine.

In between the kiss, he pulled back just a fraction, enough to murmur, "Thought you hated me."

I barely registered his words, my breath coming in short, heavy pants. "I do," I whispered, my voice a mix of defiance and something else. "I think."

Jungkook chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against my lips as he leaned back in, his hand now traveling up my side, slipping under my shirt. His touch was slow, teasing, as if he was testing just how far he could push before I stopped him. But I didn't stop him. I couldn't. The warmth of his palm against my skin sent shivers through my entire body, and I leaned into him, craving more.

His lips were on mine again, but this time, the kiss was deeper, slower, like we were savoring every second of this moment. His hand moved higher, grazing the edge of my bra, and I let out a quiet whimper, the sound muffled against his mouth.

"Still think you hate me?" he teased between kisses, his lips brushing against the corner of my mouth, trailing down to my jaw.

I tried to answer, but my thoughts were a jumbled mess, lost in the haze of his touch and the overwhelming heat building inside me. Instead, all I could manage was a shaky, "Shut up."

Jungkook grinned against my skin, his breath hot against my neck as his hand slipped further under my shirt, his fingers ghosting over my breast. "You know," he murmured, his voice low and full of that damn cockiness, "I'm not even doing anything, and you're already..... horny?."

I swallowed hard, trying to regain some control, but the way his hand felt on me, the way his lips moved against my skin, it was impossible to think straight. I opened my mouth to say something, to tell him to stop...or maybe to tell him not to stop, but before I could, 

I heard the sound of the door opening.

Panic shot through me, and I jerked away from him, pulling my shirt back down and scrambling to sit up straight. Namjoon had just walked in, completely oblivious to the tension that had just filled the room.

Jungkook, on the other hand, didn't even flinch. He stayed where he was, leaning back casually with a smug grin on his face, like he was savoring the fact that he had completely undone me in a matter of minutes. He rubbed his lips with his thumb, his eyes glinting with amusement as he watched me try to pull myself together.

Namjoon, blissfully unaware of what he'd just interrupted, smiled and waved as he set his bag down. "Hey, sorry I'm late."

"Uh, it's fine," I mumbled, still feeling the heat in my cheeks as I avoided Jungkook's gaze. My heart was pounding in my chest, and I couldn't stop thinking about what had just happened—or what almost happened.

Jungkook finally sat up, stretching lazily as he glanced at Namjoon. "We were just getting started," he said, his tone casual, though the smirk on his face told me he was still very much enjoying the moment.

Namjoon nodded, pulling out his laptop. "Cool, let's get to work then."

I shot a glare at Jungkook, who only grinned wider, clearly reveling in the fact that I was still flustered. And as much as I wanted to punch him, I couldn't deny the way my body still buzzed from his touch.

This was going to be a long night.

As the three of us sat around Jungkook's living room table, trying to focus on the project, I couldn't help but feel the lingering tension between us. My mind kept drifting back to the kiss, the way his hands felt on me, and it didn't help that Jungkook kept sending me these playful glances when Namjoon wasn't looking.

We were supposed to be reviewing some notes Namjoon had brought, but my attention was elsewhere. Namjoon was talking animatedly about his ideas, while I pretended to follow along, nodding occasionally. Meanwhile, Jungkook, who sat way too close for comfort on my other side, started to shift, his knee brushing against mine under the table.

I froze for a second, my heart racing, but I didn't move. I didn't pull away. Instead, I shot him a quick look out of the corner of my eye. He glanced back, smirking, and then, without warning, his hand slipped under the table and onto my thigh again.

This time, though, it wasn't innocent.

His fingers began to creep higher, just brushing the hem of my skirt. I tensed up, glancing at Namjoon, who was completely focused on the work in front of him. Jungkook's hand continued its slow, deliberate journey under my skirt, and I couldn't help the way my breath hitched.

I should've stopped him. I should've pushed his hand away, but I didn't. My body reacted on its own, allowing him to continue as my heart pounded in my chest. I swallowed hard, trying to maintain some semblance of normalcy as Namjoon droned on about the project.

Jungkook's fingers slowly rubbed my clothed clit, and I bit my lip, trying to suppress a gasp. I shifted slightly in my seat, hoping Namjoon wouldn't notice. Jungkook, of course, noticed everything. He leaned in just a little closer, whispering softly, "You okay?"

I shot him a glare, though it lacked any real conviction. He chuckled under his breath, clearly enjoying the fact that I was letting him get away with this. His hand traveled higher, pushing my panties to the side enough for him to enter. 

i then let out a slight whimper catching their attention. jungkook smirking as he inserts another finger into me "are you okay y/n?" namjoon asks concerned about me "a-ahh no no..haha i-i stubbed my toe" i tried to reply as i was unable to talk normally. the pleasure was too good. 

now i know why girls love to throw themselves at jungkook

i held onto jungkooks shirt tightening my grip as i felt my orgasm being near. jungkook sensed it as my walls then starts to tighten around his fingers, he then fastened his pace, making my heart race faster. he then looks at me as i struggle, biting my lips trying not to make any sounds but my legs were shaking. 

i finally came. my white liquid coating his fingers as he pulls out making a 'plop' sound. 

i breathed heavily trying to pull myself together as i lick my lips, turning to jungkook watching him as he licks his fingers, cleaning my cum that was on his fingers.

once we were done with our study session Namjoon stood up to leave, an awkward silence settled in the room for a brief second. He gathered his things, explaining something about a school board meeting that he couldn't miss. I nodded along, thankful for the distraction from the tension that had been building between Jungkook and me for the past hour. Jungkook, on the other hand, remained calm, though I could sense the playful energy still simmering beneath the surface.

Namjoon finally said his goodbyes and left, closing the door behind him. The silence between Jungkook and me felt thick, heavy with the weight of everything we weren't saying. I didn't dare look at him at first, knowing that the second I did, we wouldn't be able to hold back any longer.

i then got up from the couch as i got on his lap, ruffling and playing with his hair. i tilt my head keeping eye contact with him giving him a smile as his hands starts travelling it's way to undo my bra until my phone suddenly rang distrupting our moment. 

i got up to get my phone and it's hoseok. 

i answered the call but jungkook took it 

"hey y/n where are you?" hoseok asks concerned as it has already been past 6 pm.

"she's with her boyfriend" jungkook answers making me shook my head in panic as i try to get my phone from him "what the fuck jungkook!" i got up on him trying to get the phone as i heard hoseok mutter "what the fuck is happening" on the phone. "kiss first" jungkook points at his lips hinting me to kiss him. 

and without hesitation i kissed him. i pull away looking at him in the eye as i spoke softly "can i get my phone now?" "say please" he replies making me annoyed. "can i please get my phone now?" i answered him as he slowly gave me the phone giving a cocky grin.

i yanked the phone from him a little bit harsh but i was already annoyed. 

"hey hoseok? i'm sorry that was jungkook" i said  awkwardly

"i was right then?" he asks 

"huh?"

"you like him do youuu??" he teases 

"hell nah what the fuck" i shook my head

jungkook then interrupts and yell on the phone "says the girl who kissed me and wanted to make out with me!" i hit jungkooks shoulder playfully as hoseok on the phone "omygod!! jimin and jin has to know about this bye!!" 

"wait hoseok no-" before i could speak hoseok ends the call.

"what the fuck?" i said to him annoyed 

"sorryyy princess" he gives me a peck on the cheek and points at his hard bulge

"i made you cum and i didn't get to cum" he pouts 

"my precious pussy doesn't deserve a cock that goes in other pussies that we don't even know it clean. maybe stop fucking other girls and i'll let you, hm?" i cup his face as i answered softly 

i then sat down on the couch to relax, closing my eyes, i couldn't stop thinking about what had happened today with jungkook.

After everything that happened, Jungkook broke the silence with a smirk, his usual confidence returning. "Let me take you home," he offered, tilting his head towards the door. "You know, on my bike."

"Sure," I said, keeping my voice steady, though internally I was anything but calm.

As we walked out of his house and towards his bike, I could feel the unspoken tension between us, a silent reminder of the unresolved tension lingering in the air. Jungkook handed me a helmet, his fingers brushing lightly against mine. I couldn't help but notice how his eyes lingered on me for a second longer than necessary before he turned his attention back to the bike.

"You sure you trust me on this thing?" he teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he adjusted his helmet.

I rolled my eyes, but a small smile crept onto my face despite myself. "Just don't kill me, Jeon," I said, slipping the helmet on.

Jungkook chuckled before straddling the bike. "Wouldn't dream of it," he replied, patting the seat behind him. "Hop on."

I hesitated for a second before sliding onto the seat behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist. The moment my body pressed against his back, I could feel the firm muscles under his shirt, the warmth radiating from him. I mentally cursed myself for feeling flustered by something as simple as a bike ride, but there was no denying the electricity that sparked between us. The memory of his hands on me, his lips, kept flashing in my mind. God, what had happened to me?

As soon as the engine revved to life, the city streets blurred past us, and I tightened my grip on Jungkook. The wind whipped around us, the cool night air contrasting with the warmth of his body. My chest was pressed firmly against him, my heart pounding in my ears, and I couldn't help but bury my face into his back. Being this close to him, especially after everything that had just happened, made it hard to think straight.

The ride home was both exhilarating and maddening. Every second, I was hyper-aware of how close we were, the subtle movements of his body as he steered the bike, the way my arms tightened around him with every turn. I had never ridden on a motorcycle before, and the adrenaline only added to the charged atmosphere. As much as I hated to admit it, part of me didn't want the ride to end.

But all too soon, we pulled up in front of my house. Jungkook parked the bike, cutting the engine, and I reluctantly let go of him, sliding off the seat. My legs were a little unsteady, whether from the ride or the emotions swirling inside me, I wasn't sure. I pulled off the helmet, my fingers brushing through my hair as I handed it back to him.

As soon as Jungkook and I stepped through the front door, my mom, ever the gracious host, immediately beamed at Jungkook, practically pulling him inside with an invitation to stay for tea. I was trying to mentally prepare myself for the inevitable barrage of questions from her, but before I could even process that, I heard the familiar voice of my best friend, Hoseok, from the living room.

"Y/N! Guess what? I found—oh..." Hoseok's words trailed off when he saw Jungkook behind me, his eyes widening in surprise. His playful grin faltered for a second, replaced by curiosity as he glanced between the two of us. "Wait, what's going on here? You're bringing home the infamous Jeon Jungkook?"

I shot Hoseok a warning look, but he only raised his eyebrows, clearly amused. Of course, he would be staying over tonight. Hoseok was practically family at this point—my mom loved him, and he often stayed over when he was in town. I should have known he'd be here, lounging on the couch like he owned the place.

Before I could answer, my mom jumped in, leading Jungkook toward the living room, where she immediately started gushing over him. "Oh, it's so nice to meet one of Y/N's friends from school! She never brings anyone home. Please, make yourself comfortable."

Jungkook chuckled softly, giving my mom his signature charming smile. "Thank you, ma'am. It's nice to meet you too."

I could see my mom's eyes light up at his politeness, and I mentally groaned, knowing she was going to absolutely love him by the end of the night. Great, just what I needed—my mom falling for Jungkook's charm.

While my mom was busy fawning over him, I made my way over to Hoseok, who was sitting on the couch with an overly dramatic grin plastered on his face. The moment I sat down next to him, he leaned in, lowering his voice.

"So... you and Jungkook, huh?" Hoseok's tone was dripping with playful curiosity. "Did I just sense some serious tension there, or am I imagining things?"

I rolled my eyes, trying to act casual, though I could feel my cheeks warming up. "It's nothing. We're just working on a group project together."

Hoseok snorted, clearly unconvinced. "Yeah, sure. A group project. Is that what we're calling it now? What happened, huh? Did you two—" He paused, his eyes widening. "Wait, don't tell me you guys really kissed."

I froze, my heart skipping a beat as I glanced at Hoseok. I didn't need to say anything; the look on my face was enough to confirm his suspicions.

Hoseok gasped dramatically, his voice dropping even lower. "You did kiss! Oh my god, Y/N! I knew there was something going on between you two."

I nudged him with my elbow, whispering harshly, "Will you keep it down? My mom's right there."

Hoseok grinned, completely unbothered by my attempt to hush him. "How was it? Was it good? Was it like... you know, fireworks?"

I shot him a look. "Hoseok, seriously, now is not the time."

But Hoseok, being the relentless best friend he was, wasn't about to drop it. He leaned closer, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Come on, spill the tea. I've got to know. You can't just drop a bomb like that and expect me to stay quiet."

I sighed, knowing he wasn't going to let this go. "Fine," I muttered under my breath. "We kissed. "

Hoseok's grin widened. "And? How was it? You can't just say it happened and leave me hanging."

I glanced over at Jungkook, who was still talking with my mom, oblivious to the conversation Hoseok and I were having. "It was...something. he uhh you know?" i glanced down at my bottom area hinting him what had happened

Hoseok raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "OMYGOD! So, like... good or bad?"

I gave him a pointed look. "What do you think?"

Hoseok let out a low whistle, shaking his head in disbelief. "Wow. You and Jeon Jungkook. Who would've thought? The bad boy and the good girl. This is like some kind of drama."

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "Please, don't make this a thing."

"Oh, it's already a thing, Y/N," Hoseok teased, nudging me with his shoulder. "You're in deep now."

I glared at him, though I couldn't help but smile a little. "You're impossible."

Hoseok just laughed, but before he could say anything else, Jungkook walked over, finally free from my mom's grasp. He glanced at me and Hoseok, a curious look in his eyes, but didn't say anything. Instead, he leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze briefly meeting mine before flicking away.

"You guys talking about something interesting?" Jungkook asked, his voice casual, but there was a hint of playfulness there.

Hoseok, of course, jumped on the opportunity. "Oh, nothing much. Just talking about how Y/N never brings anyone home. Guess you must be special, Jungkook."

I shot Hoseok a look, silently telling him to shut up, but he just grinned back at me, enjoying every second of this.

Jungkook smirked, his eyes locking with mine for a moment. "Yeah, I guess I am," he said, his tone teasing.

I rolled my eyes, feeling the heat rise to my face again. "Hobi, don't you have something else to do?"

Hoseok shrugged, standing up from the couch with a stretch. "Nah, I think I've caused enough trouble for one night. I'll leave you two to... whatever it is you're doing."

I watched as he sauntered off, but not before giving me a wink. I let out a breath, mentally preparing myself for the inevitable interrogation that would come from him later. But for now, I turned my attention back to Jungkook, who was still watching me with that same playful glint in his eyes.

"So," Jungkook said, his voice low enough that only I could hear. "You really couldn't stop talking about me, huh?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, crossing my arms defensively. "Don't get cocky, Jeon."

But he just grinned, clearly enjoying the effect he had on me. "Too late."

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 BAD INFLUENCE kang haerin x reader

↳ warnings yn is haerins “friend”, yn is apart of baby monster, minji and yn going at each other throats

"ugh, I hate them so much," minji groaned, her voice laced with frustration. hanni chuckled at her friend's dramatic reaction, amused by minji’s strong feelings.

"I will never understand what you have against YG artists, they're talented," hanni remarked, shaking her head in disbelief at minji’s disdain.

"and cool," danielle chimed in, coming to the defense of YG artists. "have you seen blackpink?" she added, trying to make her point.

"I don’t know, they just rub me the wrong way, like they’re so aggressive," minji explained, her expression tense as she tried to articulate her feelings.

hanni opens her mouth to argue but is cut off by a loud cackle.

the three girls exchanged puzzled glances as they observed their friend. she sat cross-legged, utterly engrossed in her phone, her laughter ringing out for the fifth time in as many minutes. each giggle seemed to pull her deeper into whatever held her attention, her face illuminated by the soft glow of the screen. the others leaned in, trying to catch a glimpse of what could be causing such amusement, they’ve never seen the girl like this before.

minji was the first to voice her concern, “why are you so giggly” haerin looked up from her phone with she opens her mouth to respond but is cut off by the youngest that enters the room.

“it’s her cool girlfriend.” hyein says teasingly as she sits beside the cat like girl who sends her a glare.

“she’s my friend.” she says as hyein laughs and minji’s face relaxes.

“you have a new friend?”danielle asks in the shock, haerin wasn’t much of a talker like the most of them so it shocked her to see that the girl got a friend and they don’t know them.

“and she’s cool?” hanni said with a scrunched face like that was the most craziest thing she’s ever heard which caused haerin to shoot her a offended look.

"hyein thinks everyone is cool," haerin interjected, glancing up briefly from her phone. "but I think she's pretty cool," she added, her voice barely above a whisper.

"she's sooo cool," hyein exaggerated to the rest of the group. "She's an idol too."

"If she's as cool as Hyein is saying, then I want to meet her," minji said, her curiosity piqued. 

hanni nodded in agreement, eager to meet haerin's new friend, while herin looked up from her phone in shock.

"What?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

"Yeah, let's meet her," danielle chimed in, with enthusiasm. "Invite her over tomorrow."

haerin would rather not invite her friend to meet her members especially minji, but looking at their faces made her reluctantly nod.

“okay, I’ll call her about it later, me and her are hanging out tomorrow anyways.”

danielle's excitement bubbled over as she tidied up every corner of the dorm, ensuring everything was in its proper place. she glanced over at haerin, who seemed lost in thought, her gaze fixed on some distant point. danielle paused, a smile tugging at her lips, as she gently nudged her friend's shoulder. "aren't you feeling the excitement too?"

haerin jumped slightly at the sudden sound of her friend's voice nodding.

 "of course she is," hanni chimed in, her voice carrying a hint of amusement as she joined danielle and haerin.

 "especially hyein. she's been going on and on about this mystery girl, driving us all a little crazy with curiosity."

“yeah, but let’s not jump on her.” minji adds when she enters the room, haerin shrunk into her seat at the leaders words, oh she does not know what’s gonna hit her.

“what time is she coming?”

“she should be coming right about-“ haerin starts but is cut off by a knock at the door.

danielle jumps up immediately and practically runs to the door hyein coming from the corner following her as well, while minji follows shortly behind them and hanni stays beside haerin flashing the girl a smile.

the door opens to reveal a girl with darker clothes her fingers adorned with an array of silver rings that glinted in the soft light of the room. among them, a particular ring caught the eye, with the word "mon" etched onto its surface, adding an intriguing touch to her attire.

her gaze, initially downcast towards her shoes, slowly lifted to meet the expectant stares of the three girls gathered at the door. despite the partial cover of her eyes beneath a bucket hat.

minji turned to look behind her and saw a curious hanni and a nervous looking haerin, she furrows her eyebrows before looking back at the door.

“hello.” her voice was intimidating but in a flash she gives them a cute smile, “it’s so exciting to meet you guys, is haerin here?”

“ah, yes she is, haerin!” danielle calls for the cat like girl, haerin gets up from her seat immediately and pushes through her 

members.

“hey.” she says quietly.

“hi.” the girl smiles, before looking at the rest of the girls.

haerin grabs her arm and pulls her inside while the rest of the girls look at them, minji was glaring more than just looking.

“yn unnie!” as hyein's exclamation filled the room, her excitement full, she made her way towards the older girl with an eager smile, her eyes filled with admiration. yn, in turn, greeted her with a warm smile of acknowledgement, a subtle nod of recognition passing between them before her attention returned to the group.

there’s silence before danielle gasps.

“baby monster!” she exclaims walk closer to yn, “you’re apart of baby monster! you’re ring makes sense now.”

yn nods while minji buds in, “it’s pretty obvious, look at her.” yn definitely picked up on the leaders tone and tilted her head while the rest of the girls  looked at each other nervously, already knowing the older girls distaste for yg artists.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” yn says causing everyone to look at each other with raised brows while minji narrows her eyes at the younger girl. 

haerin linked her arm with yn and pulled the girl closer to her, “let’s go sit.” she says practically dragging the girl with her as the rest of the girls follow.

they all settle down, awkward silence filling the room.

“so, what’s your position in your group?” hanni asks trying her best to fuses the tension.

“I’m a rapper,” yn starts but is cut off by minji muttering “of course.”

yn scrunched her face before continuing, “but, I also sing and dance, I’m pretty good at everything.” she says with a cocky tone looking directly at minji while haerin leans closer into yn’s side trying her best to hide her giggle.

hyein laughs at the older girls words, “she’s right she’s really good at everything.” she adds expressing her admiration while minji rolls her eyes.

“so how did you meet haerin?” danielle asks eagerly.

yn sends haerin a smug look while the girl looks off to the side embarrassed, “she just followed me out of nowhere on instagram, right after my entertainment posted my introduction.”

haerin pinched yn’s side while hanni let out a loud laugh, “you’re such a stalker.” she says causing the other girls to laugh.

minji cuts the laughs off, “do all of you guys dress like this?”

“like what?” haerin answers for yn, already not liking where this is going.

“like that.” minji says towards yn, who laughed and stuck her tongue to the side of her cheek.

“we are known our good style.” yn says, playing with her rings, “you know, first brand ambassadors and everything.” she adds shadily, “kinda the reason why everyone else is as well, you would know right?… minji unnie.”

hanni snickers and danielle smacks her arm while hyein just looks between the two older girls.

minji just stares at yn while flashes her a smile.

haerin clears her throat immediately getting yn’s attention, “we should get going.” she says , wanting to get out of there immediately.

“so fast?” danielle asks looking up at the girls who stand up from the couch.

“yup.” haerin says making her way to the door, dragging yn with her who looks behind and gives everyone a smile, “it was nice meeting you guys, I’ll make sure to bring her home on time.” she adds flashing minji a wink who practically has steam coming from her ears.

when the door closes minji is the first to break the silence as they all look at the door.

“she’s going to be a bad influence.

“more like, she’s gonna drive you nuts.” hanni adds laughing.

“I need to go lie down.”

[elliespectacular]

Do you still have that Jellicle name generator saved anywhere? Some friends and I used it for our OCs and it was an absolute blast!

The name I got was Callio the convivial cat, which is short for Calliope, who I played in Xanadu. She has a whole costume and everything now!

Even if you don't have it anymore, tysm for making it ;-;

Xanadu mention! Also I do still have it saved! This one is revised a little and I might make more changes later, but here it is in text form:

Jellicle Name Generator

This will give you a name that is relatively in-line with the naming conventions seen in Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats by T.S. Eliot and later adapted into the musical Cats by Andrew Lloyd Webber - and unlike those shitty "last name and your birth month" name generators, this one won't doxx you in the process.

Before we begin, a bit of terminology we'll be using: - Portmanteau: Turning multiple words into one word linked by a sound or letter. Compelling Television = Compellevision. Punk Squid = Squnk - Smoosh: Combine words by simply removing the space and (optionally) changing the word positions. Country Jester = countryjester - Prefix: Goes before the name, like Mr. or Captain - Suffix: Goes after the name, like Jr. or The Great - Cat-like term: Something associated with cats. Meow, Whisker, Bell, Claw, Scratch, etc.

FIRST: Roll a D20 to determine your base name

An uncommon person’s first name

First syllable of a common last name + a unit of measurement. Portmanteau 'em.

Short, dangerous noun + a non-dangerous profession. Smoosh 'em.

Two Latin words. Portmanteau 'em.

A simple present-tense verb + sophisticated person's first name. Smoosh 'em.

Cat-like term + sophisticated person's first name. Smoosh 'em.

Combine two short nouns, then add "-er" "-ie" or "-est" to the end.

Think of an actor you like. Shorten their first name to its shortest nickname.

A medical term spelled incorrectly.

A food you liked as a kid + a pretentious word. Smoosh 'em.

A figure of legend/myth. Remove one syllable and any spaces.

An older person's first name that isn't common today.

Last name of a historical figure + a silly word. Portmanteau 'em.

A kids' name with 2 or more syllables + that name again without the first syllable + an onomatopoeia. Portmanteau 'em if you can.

A silly word + the first name of a former coworker. Portmanteau 'em.

A kind of public event + a cat-like term. Smoosh 'em.

Something from ancient history. Shorten what you came up with into a single word.

Something you do when you're nervous. Take that verb and add "-er" to the end to make it a noun.

Silly word + hostile-sounding verb. Portmanteau 'em.

Two silly words with 2+ syllables each. Smoosh 'em.

SECOND: Roll another D20 for flavor

Before you roll, consider how your name sounds without any additional flavor. If it's fine on its own, feel free to leave it as-is. Otherwise, roll on!

Suffix - An upsettingly average last name

Suffix - Think of a hobby. Your suffix is "The _____ Cat"

Prefix - A short adjective

Suffix - Think of an adjective. Your suffix is "The _____ Cat"

Prefix - Choose Mr. Mrs. Ms. Mx. or something similar

Suffix - Think of a color. Your suffix is "The _____ Cat"

Prefix - Any one-syllable word. Repeat the word a second time, adding or replacing the first consonant with that of your base name.

Suffix - Think of any non-proper noun. Your suffix is "The _____ Cat"

Suffix - it's the word Cat

Suffix - it's the word Kitty

Suffix - it's the word Kitten

Prefix - Choose "Sir" "Madam" "Captain" or something similar

Prefix - Choose "Lord" "Lady" "Noble" or something similar

Prefix - His/Her/Their Majesty (or any pronoun you prefer)

Prefix - His/Her/Their Grace (or any pronoun you prefer)

Prefix - Mc

Prefix - Van

Prefix - Von

Prefix - De

Suffix - Any cat-like term

And you're done!*

*This is as much a creative exercise as it is a "generator" so feel free to mess with the formula and/or let your result inspire something more original. Add multiple layers of flavor if you want. The rules are not rigid. I recommend generating a few names and picking your favorite!

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Sunshine & Shadow

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley X Female!Reader

Warnings: fluff, reader is the sunshine to Simon’s shadowy self (think of it as girly!reader x guard dog!Simon)

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy, i just had to write for him, he’s perfect for this

Word Count: 1.6k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

Simon Riley wasn’t used to color. Not in the literal sense—he’d seen it all, but his life had been painted in dark tones, an endless palette of blacks, greys, and the muted browns of grime. The quiet, the shadows—those were his comfort zones, safe from the bright, chaotic world outside.

So when he met you, his “sunshine and rainbows” girlfriend, it was like someone had thrown open the windows and let a flood of color spill into his life.

Simon never thought his evening coffee stop would be anything more than routine. It was a small café he’d found, quiet and out of the way, perfect for unwinding without distractions. And then, there was you.

You’d stood out from the moment he walked in. Dressed in a pastel cardigan and holding a sparkly pink notebook, you had an aura that practically radiated warmth. He felt your gaze on him the instant he entered, and as he moved to take a seat in the corner, you surprised him by flashing a big, friendly smile.

“Hey, I haven’t seen you here before!” you said, waving a little as he sat down.

Simon froze, unsure of how to respond. People didn’t normally approach him, and certainly not like this. He gave a quick nod, hoping it would signal the end of the interaction. But you had other plans.

“Are you reading anything good?” you asked, eyeing the worn book in his hand. Simon didn’t look up, but he could feel you staring. Relenting, he held up the book to show you the cover.

“History,” he muttered.

“Ooh, history,” you mused, nodding with genuine enthusiasm. “I don’t know much about history, but I like learning new things. What’s this one about?”

And just like that, he found himself talking to you. Simon didn’t know why, but the way you listened—eyes bright, smile wide—made him feel at ease. What started as an accidental conversation turned into an exchange of phone numbers, and soon after, into regular meetings. You, with your pastel colors and genuine kindness, had broken through his guarded walls in a way he didn’t see coming.

It had taken Simon some time to work up the courage to ask you out for a proper date. The idea of dressing up, going somewhere crowded, and acting “normal” was daunting. But when he finally asked, your eyes lit up, and you’d agreed immediately, looking as excited as he’d ever seen you.

He’d chosen a small, dimly-lit restaurant that seemed perfect for a quiet evening. However, as soon as you both arrived, everything seemed to go wrong. The place was overbooked and loud, and they’d somehow lost the reservation he’d made. After an awkward ten-minute wait, he looked over at you, tense and apologetic.

“Should we… just leave?” he asked, voice low. He hated that the date wasn’t going as planned, especially when he saw the way your expression fell slightly.

You forced a smile, clearly trying to hide any disappointment. “Maybe that’s a good idea. It’s a bit… hectic here.”

Simon nodded, relieved you weren’t too upset. “Let’s get out of here. I’ve got a place nearby we can go back to.”

Once you were out of the chaos of the restaurant, he slipped his hand into yours, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles in apology. When you both got back to his place, you plopped onto the couch, sighing.

“Okay, what do we do now?” you asked, glancing around his sparsely decorated space, your eyes sparkling with that familiar curiosity.

Simon shrugged, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “Fancy some takeout?”

Within minutes, you were settled on his couch, sharing boxes of takeout in your nice clothes, a laugh slipping past your lips at the situation. This was not the evening he’d planned, but somehow, seeing you there, comfortable in his space, made it feel better than he could’ve imagined.

As the night wore on, you took off your heels and pulled your legs up under you, completely at ease. Simon watched you, his usually stoic expression softening as he felt an unfamiliar warmth spreading through him.

“Thanks for not making a fuss about tonight,” he murmured, looking at you. “I wanted it to be… I dunno. Special.”

You laughed, reaching out to gently squeeze his hand. “Si, this is special. It’s just… us.” You smiled up at him, sincerity in your eyes. “Besides, I like this. I’m getting to know the real you.”

He looked away, but you could tell he was smiling. As the night went on, you fell asleep curled up against him, your head resting on his shoulder as he watched you, wondering what he’d done to deserve a moment like this.

Since that night, staying in with you had become his favorite thing. You often brought little pastel decorations, throwing a pink blanket over the couch or adding a flower-scented candle that he pretended to ignore but secretly loved. Tonight, you’d snuggled up beside him, pulling the pink blanket over both of you.

“Si, why don’t you come sit with me?” you asked, giving his sleeve a gentle tug. “You look like you could use a break.”

He didn’t argue. Sitting with you meant a reprieve from the chaos of his thoughts, even if he’d never say it out loud. He let you pull him to the couch, where you immediately curled up against him, your warmth seeping through his shirt.

After a moment of comfortable silence, you tilted your head up to look at him, eyes sparkling. “You know, I think the pink really suits you.”

Simon scoffed, though his arm instinctively tightened around you. “I look ridiculous.”

“Not at all,” you insisted, lightly poking his side. “You’re just not used to being adored, that’s all.”

His gaze softened, and he let his hand rest on top of yours. Being with you, it was like getting a second chance at something he’d thought was beyond him—a chance to feel a little brightness, to have someone who cared about him for more than just his skills in the field.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, watching as he tried (and failed) to hide a smile. “Come on, Mr. Guard Dog. Let me be your sunshine for a while.”

He exhaled, a rare, genuine chuckle slipping through as he looked down at you. “Don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he muttered, voice low but full of warmth.

With a soft grin, you squeezed his hand. “Just keep being you, Si. That’s all I ever need.”

The first time you met his team, Simon felt a familiar weight of unease. He was used to keeping his personal life private, but he knew it was inevitable that you’d meet his colleagues. That night at the pub, he couldn’t keep his eyes off you, wondering how you’d fit into his world.

Soap was the first to notice you, nearly spilling his drink when he saw the pink scarf draped over Simon’s shoulders.

“Oi, Ghost!” Soap said, laughing. “Didn’t know you had such… colorful tastes.”

You, completely unfazed, turned to Soap with a grin. “I’m the one responsible for that! I’m his bit of color.”

Simon shot him a look that could kill, but you slipped your hand into his, giving his fingers a reassuring squeeze. The others chuckled, though their teasing was lighthearted. They’d never seen Ghost—stoic, silent Ghost—look at anyone the way he looked at you, and it was both amusing and a little shocking.

When you noticed the curious looks, you only beamed and waved. “Nice to meet you all! I promise, I’m the chatty one.”

The team took to you immediately. You didn’t shy away from their gruff personalities or rowdy banter, joining in with ease and charm that seemed to leave everyone grinning. Even Simon, who normally kept his distance, found himself leaning closer to you, letting your presence smooth out his edges.

At one point, Soap leaned in, smirking. “So, what’s a lovely lass like you doing with our Ghost, eh?”

You chuckled, throwing an arm around Simon’s shoulders. “Oh, he’s got a soft side, don’t let him fool you.”

Simon let out a deep sigh, feigning exasperation but unable to hide his smile. His teammates exchanged glances, a few eyebrows raised at this surprising revelation. They were witnessing a side of Ghost they never thought existed, and it was clear that you were the reason behind it.

One night, you convinced him to go out with you—a cozy pub with live music, a little tucked away but busier than Simon would usually tolerate. As you led him through the crowd, your hand firmly in his, he felt strangely… excited. For you, he’d go just about anywhere.

Once inside, you ordered your usual: a bright, fruity cocktail adorned with a slice of pineapple and a pink umbrella, while he opted for a simple beer. The contrast between you two couldn’t have been more obvious, but he secretly loved it. While you talked, laughed, and even dragged him to the dance floor for a slow song, he stayed close, like a guard dog, eyes always scanning, protective.

At one point, someone tried to flirt with you while he went to the bar. Simon’s sharp gaze caught the moment, and he returned, moving in beside you with a casual possessiveness. One look from him was all it took for the guy to retreat, hands raised in surrender.

“Si, are you jealous?” you teased, poking his arm as he slipped his hand around your waist.

He grunted, his gaze softening as he looked down at you. “Just keeping you safe, love.”

You gave him a warm smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Well, I’m already taken. Can’t you tell?”

He leaned in close, his voice barely above a murmur. “Couldn’t miss it if I tried.”

In that dimly lit pub, under the soft glow of fairy lights, you shared a quiet moment that felt almost surreal. You, with your vibrant colors and effortless joy, brought him something he hadn’t thought he’d ever feel again—a sense of warmth, of home.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[sorrowfulrosebud]

I hope you know you've given me puppy hybrid Bakugou brain rot, so you get another ask as a repercussion u3u

Whats the scenario or head canon of why we had to start putting a muzzle on hybrid Bakugou when going out? Did he bite, start a fight, did something out of spite? (Yes, that was a purposeful rhyme)

Gimme the tea 🫖

Blue? Wolf? Angel? 01? However you wish to be referred to, I LOVE YOU AND YOUR BIG SMART BRAIN MWA MWA. Also this got long hehehe

Warnings: bratty kid, animalistic Bakugou, wounds, reader passes out

I imagine Katsuki would have to start wearing the muzzle as soon as he left the shelter. In my AU, he was in a fighting ring (original, I know), so he still snaps when he gets frightened or angry. He doesn’t mean to, not in the slightest. But when you have to fight to the death for scraps, or a ratty blanket to keep you warm in a cramped and filthy dog cage, it becomes a nasty habit.

You try to keep it off him as much as possible unless you’re going out. It was a very long process to get him to relax even slightly with you, which was honestly a feat in of itself.

You listen to his body language. He comes to you when he has a problem. If he tenses when you’re petting him, you retract your hand and wait for the signal for you to continue, if any. You leave his food alone, because it’s his. You allow him to nap, knowing the poor creature needs some proper sleep.

It’s easier in the privacy of your own home, in a comforting environment that Bakugou can explore a million times over and never find anything new. In public though, when the screaming child demands to touch his sensitive tail, or when the shih tzu hybrid is sniffing him, it can be so overwhelming for the pup.

“Are you all ready to go, sweet thing?” You smile at your new puppy boy.

Katsuki growled lowly, his collar and leash loose on his neck. The muzzle was wrapped around his lower face, protecting himself from a future lawsuit. He tugged at the metal bars irritatedly. You sigh in empathy.

“I know, sweetpea. I’m afraid that until the padded muzzle comes, it has to be the one provided by the shelter. On the bright side, you can come outside for a walk! It’s a lovely day outside and you can meet the neighbours!” You explain happily.

Katsuki chuffs and rolls his eyes, walking ahead and pulling you on the leash as you squeak in surprise.

“See, I told you it was nice! How’s your collar feeling, honey?” You ask him gently, not wanting to overwhelm him. Katsuki’s pupils were blown with all sorts of new smells and sounds.

He never knew what squirrels sounded like. They scurried in the trees a lot more delicately than the rats in the compound. The screams of children were from fun as their parents chased and played with them. The new pups in the compound were snatched from their mother and sold or… Katsuki shook his head. He didn’t want to think about that place any more.

It was all so bewildering for him, but he seemed to be enjoying it as he threw you a nod.

“Aw I’m so glad!” You laugh softly. You stop near the local convenience store, the thought of a cold ice cream tickling your fancy. You call out to Katsuki to stop as he obeys.

“Do you fancy an ice cream? It’s such a hot day today, and you’ve taken everything in so wonderfully,” you ask him.

Katsuki cocked his head, not knowing what “ice cream” was. He had sometimes heard his old handlers talk about it, but he’d never been able to try any. You felt a pang of guilt at the realisation that he’d never had the sweet treat.

“Let’s go and get you one. I’m sure you’ll like it,” you promise him softly, allowing him to walk in first. He jumped slightly at the little ding-dong of the door, growling at it as you explained what it was.

Despite his grumbling and the occasional bark, he was behaving himself remarkably.

The ice cream freezer was thankfully stocked full to the brim, with flavours of nearly every description.

“Ah, here they are! I hope they have some that’s hybrid friendly. Katsuki, why don’t you come take a look and see what you want to try,” you encourage him. Katsuki froze a little. You were… giving HIM the choice? Was this some sort of trap? Your soft smile made him feel slightly at ease.

Plus, you would never hit him in a store, right?

He takes a look at the flavours in the freezer, entranced by the huge red strawberries and slabs of chocolate. He was about to grab an ice lolly with a motif of a raspberry when a shriek pierces his ears.

His hands slap to his head, covering the fluffy things as he snaps his head at the source. He lets out an automatic growl as his teeth curl back. A small child, not much older than 6 is staring back at him with a delighted look. In his sticky hand held a melting ice lolly.

“Doggy!” He shrieks excitedly, jumping up and down. A woman, whom you presume is his mother, is taking a phone call further down the aisle.

Katsuki pressed further into you when the kid tries touching him with sticky fingers. You immediately stand in front of him, trying to calm the puppy boy down and deal with the kid.

“Hi there sweetie, I’m sorry but Katsuki doesn’t like being touched,” you try to explain carefully, getting on the child’s level. You’re taken aback when the little monster’s face goes red and he lets out an ear-piercing scream that has Katsuki starting to hyperventilate a bit.

“NO! WANT TO PET THE DOGGY! MAMAAAA!” The kid wails, the woman walking to her son. She looks you up and down as she holds her son by the shoulders.

“What seems to be the problem here?” She sneers. You make sure Katsuki has space to cool down as you try to explain.

“Your son here is trying to pet my hybrid, but that is not something that he is comfortable at all with, so I’m trying to explain-” you were cut off by the woman.

“So? The beast is muzzled and leashed, why can’t my angel pet him?” She gave you a dirty look, as if she could look past your puppyboy who looked like he would rather be anywhere else.

“Katsuki is really not comfortable with that. It’s his first time out of the house in a long time and-” you were once again cut off by the woman’s snooty laughter.

“Well if he’s such a ‘rabid beast’ then he shouldn’t be out of the house,” she snarls viciously. You didn’t even notice the kid sneaking behind you until Katsuki lets out a vicious growl, and the sound of 2 screams fill the air.

Katsuki waited for the paramedics to bandage you up as they took you to hospital. They found you bleeding in Katsuki’s arms, his claw marks identical to the ones in your chest.

Turns out the little bastard had snuck behind you and yanked on Katsuki’s leash. Being already wound up and anxious, the sharp leash tug threw him into a frenzy as he instinctively went to claw the threat. You pushed the kid off in time, taking the blow instead.

Katsuki could only stare at you as cotton filled his mouth. His mouth twitched as he started trembling. He had … hurt you…

Your shriek of pain could never leave his head, him not even registering that he had made you bleed until the metallic smell hit his nose. The kid started wailing after being shoved on the floor, the mother picking him up and running away.

You look at him, then at the blood and you try to smile. You swallow, the shock of the pain making it difficult to see.

“D-don’t worry K’s’ki! I do- I don’ blame you,” you start to slur out, the shock and blood loss making you woozy. You slump against your pup, breathing shallow and light. Katsuki whined anxiously, looking for help.

A witness in the same aisle came forward slowly, aware of Katsuki’s hyperventilating and anxious state. He clutched you close to him, sitting on the ground as he trembled and nosed your face. Blood was everywhere, staining everything.

The customer slowly made his way to Katsuki, clicking her tongue softly to get his attention. Katsuki looked wild as he snarled savagely, pulling you tighter. She held her hands up slowly, demonstrating she wasn’t a threat.

“I’m going to call for help. I need to make sure that your owner is okay. I’m going to be super duper careful to make sure I don’t hurt them any more. You can still hold them, I just need to make sure their pulse is still there. Is that okay?” She spoke slowly and calmly, getting emergency services on her phone.

Katsuki snarled, but the claws digging into you relaxed slightly. The customer let a small smile out as she checked your pulse and referred everything back to the emergency services. She was slow and methodical, careful not to move too quickly and scare the trembling pup.

“There we go, all done. I saw everything you know,” she said quietly, kneeling near the two of you. Katsuki whined quietly, chuffing your hair.

“You were scared, and that monster of a boy didn’t listen. There are cameras everywhere, so I’m certain nothing will happen,” she said firmly.

Her hand slowly lifted up, paying close attention to his body language. Her hand slowly found refuge in his hair, slowly petting his ears. Katsuki could feel his heartbeat slow down, just for a moment, before it spiked again at the sound of the siren of the ambulance.

The paramedics filtered through with animal control, surprised to see a muzzled hybrid already collared and leashed holding on to the patient. The lead paramedic slowly approached you, the uniform and sterile smell making Katsuki snarl loudly and pinning you back to him. His eyes were like pin pricks as he held you tight.

“Heyyy, there you go buddy. Is that your owner there?” The paramedic questioned him quietly, bringing the cart to carry you beside her. Katsuki snarled as they got closer.

“I know, I know. It must be scary being in this situation. The lady on the phone told me what happened. You didn’t mean it, did you?” the paramedic prayed her words were getting through to him.

It seemed her prayers were answered when his grip lets loose slightly.

“You were frightened, weren’t you? The kid yanked on your leash? That must have hurt,” she murmured to him, getting more on his level. She was making slow progress to you, getting anxious when she sees the amount of blood lost.

“But now your owner is hurting. Can we take them to get all fixed up? You can ride with us in the ambulance,” she promised, holding her hand out. Katsuki growled, but with a small whine, relinquished his grasp on you.

The paramedic smiled at him, slowly picking you up as she dashed you to the cart, strapping you in as she rushed you to the ambulance outside. Katsuki whined and followed you, desperate to keep your pained face in his vision.

He rode with you the entire way to the hospital, whining when he couldn’t see past the curtain of the emergency room.

The next few hours were hell. He sat next to the curtained room, jumping up when the nurse talks to him.

“You’re very lucky. The wounds were relatively deep, but it was the shock that made them pass out. We stitched up the wound, so now we’re going to monitor your owner in a different room. Would you like to come with?” He asked. Katsuki nodded frantically.

He couldn’t help the whimper when he saw your bed being wheeled out, the bandages reaching a good way across your chest. You were docked into your new room. All Katsuki could do was wait for you to wake up.

Katsuki was a mess. He couldn’t stop whimpering to himself, scared shitless. You were the only person to ever treat him with such kindness, to talk to him like a person and not a dog. You were kind, and gentle, and-

Probably gonna hand him back to the shelter. He knew what that meant though, considering this was his ‘saving grace’. He wouldn’t get any more chances. He tried to toughen himself up, beating his leg in rage as he prepares himself for your rage.

The rage, however, never came. Katsuki must have fallen asleep, since he was awoken by the gentle call of his name. His head snapped up, mixed emotions when he sees your confused orbs.

“What… happened?” You slurred out, sleep still overtaking your system. Your eyes snapped open at the recollection of events.

“Oh god! Are you alright?!” You gasp. Katsuki looked at you dumbfounded. His body trembled. Even when he had hurt you… made you pass out… you still wouldn’t say a bad word against him. Your eyes softened as tears breached his waterline, making his beautiful lashes clump together.

“No no no no, sweet thing! What’s wrong?!” You coo at him, sitting up. He looks pointedly at your chest. You let out an “oh”.

“Katsuki, this wasn’t your fault. That little boy wouldn’t leave you alone, completely ignoring that I said to leave you alone. He still did, despite you being clearly upset and went to yank on your leash! I couldn’t have them take you away from me, so I chose to take the blow instead,” you said firmly, placing a gentle hand on his clenched fist.

“I would do it a million times over for you,” you murmured to him, softly wiping his tears. He flinched slightly, before shakily nuzzling his hand into your palm.

“You’re my good boy, my sweet Katsuki,” you preen, rubbing your thumb across his cheek. His chest rumbles as he slowly ambles into your bed. He makes eye contact with you, something within him trying to force himself to stop. Your warm eyes don’t however, simply shifting along to make room.

He cuddles into you, careful of your wound as he licks your neck gently.

“M-miiiine,” he tried, the word new as it rolled on his tongue. Your head snapped to him, amazed at his first word. Your eyes watered as you pressed a kiss to his head.

“That’s right, puppy. You’re mine.”

@archer-fb had to expand the first word babe 🤭

[megalony]

Resemblance- Part 4

This is the latest part of my Evan Buckley series, thank you all for such amazing feedback.

I hope you're ready for this!

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Series Masterlist

Summary: When Evan introduces (Y/n) to Eddie, she resembles someone he used to know. And he can't help himself when he's around her, leading to frightening behaviour.

Enjoy.

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"So, are you going to tell me what's going on, or do I have to prize it out of you?"

Evan hung his head down and tensed his shoulders, leaning his weight forward onto his arms while his hands planted down on the counter. He could feel his spine clicking into place while his weight shifted from foot to foot.

He never knew how to stand or how to act when Maddie gave him that look. Her big sister look. Her elder sibling look. The look that had changed into a knowing, motherly look since she'd had Jee. It was an expression that made Evan feel like he was sixteen years old all over again, making mistakes and only trying to hide them from his sister.

Her opinion and her views of Evan were the only ones he cared about. He had grown up disappointing his parents, just being in the room seemed to disappoint them. But he strived to make Maddie proud, she was the only person in his family that he cared about.

And right now, when he could feel her gaze burning into him and he knew those brows were raised and her lips were pursed, he felt like melting on the spot. He felt like babbling and spilling everything out to her to see if she could make some sense out of all this.

"Buck, what's going on?" Maddie slid a steaming cup of coffee across the counter and curled her hands around her own signature cup which had Mrs Han painted across the side in italics. A wedding present from a friend.

This would be their third cup of coffee each, but who was counting?

Coffee was the best Maddie could do when she knew her brother was due on shift in an hour. Otherwise she would have cracked open the bottle of red wine in the fridge and poured away until her little brother finally spilled what was on his mind.

He and (Y/n) had been here for almost two hours now and Maddie could tell something wasn't right. And she didn't want to ask (Y/n) what was wrong and risk making her nervous when this was the first time (Y/n) had come over to her house.

They had all had a chat, enjoyed spilling some gossip together and Maddie got to know (Y/n) better. But now, with (Y/n) being stolen away into the living room with Jee, Maddie finally had a chance to ask Evan what was going on.

"Chim said you and Eddie had a fight at the station last week, like, a proper fight. That's never happened before, it must be serious."

Maddie wished her husband had known more. She wished Chimney had all the gossip so she didn't have to ask Evan what was going on. She would of had time to think and come up with ways to help and some solutions if Chimney had delved into things at work. But she understood that he didn't want to be nosey and he couldn't outright ask Bobby what was going on when the Captain made it clear that this was a personal issue, not for everyone to know.

But Maddie had never known Evan and Eddie to fight in all the years she had seen them be friends. They were like brothers, they had the kind of relationship she envisioned Evan would of had with Daniel if he were still alive today.

And Evan never started fights. When he was in college he was a sweet, joyous, outgoing soul who never put a foot wrong. If someone started a fight with Evan, he would barely throw a punch in retaliation and now he was older, Evan didn't start fights. If someone started on him, he might throw a punch in defence but that was as far as he would go.

For Evan to start a fight with Eddie and tackle him, especially when they were both at work, it meant this was serious and Maddie wasn't sure she would like the answers she was about to find out.

"I don't know what to do, Maddie. I came home last week, and he… he had (Y/n) up against the wall, shouting at her and calling her Shannon."

It was as if the light faded out of Maddie's eyes when she realised what Evan was trying to tell her. Reading between the lines made her soul leave her body and sent her coffee cup trembling between her fingers. She didn't have Eddie down as the type who would boarder on delusional or someone who would go to the point of frightening those closest to him.

"And he's done this twice. He kissed her at the wedding, he's got it in his head that she's some sort of second chance. He can't control himself around her and I don't know what to do."

"My wedding?" Her lower lip jutted out and a shaky breath parted through her lips before she took a deep breath. Her hands pressed into the counter, mirroring Evan's previous stance that changed so he could rub the back of his neck.

Evan had gone a week with limited contact with Eddie. The most they had spoken was a few exchanging texts for when Evan could pick Chris up and then drop him back off since they had made cakes for his bake sale three days ago. And Chris could tell something was wrong when Evan didn't come inside and have tea with him and Eddie when he dropped him back home. He knew something was up when Evan left without exchanging so much as a hello with Eddie.

He couldn't. He couldn't look at him without hearing Eddie's voice in the back of his head, snidely remarking how he wanted to be with (Y/n). How he thought she was his second chance. How selfish he knew he was for thinking Evan was robbing him of something special.

It was all Evan could see, think and hear when he was around Eddie and he was glad they were on opposite shifts. Limited contact was the best thing for now, but they couldn't carry on like this. They couldn't avoid each other forever. They couldn't hang out with the team and give one another the cold shoulder. They couldn't do this and risk upsetting Chris. Something had to change.

"Has he spoken to anyone? Those therapy sessions he was having, they might help… he's not over Shannon if he's looking for someone to replace her."

"I don't know if he will."

"Then don't give him a choice."

Something similar to a chuckle escaped Evan's lips and he looked across at his sister with confusion pooling in his eyes.

He took a long gulp of his coffee, delighting in the way it fizzled on his tongue and made his throat feel raw and tingled down to his stomach. How could he not give Eddie a choice? What was he supposed to do, drive him to mandated therapy? Get Bobby to demand he go to meetings or he couldn't return to work? Evan doubted blackmailing Eddie into therapy sessions would make him open up and go in there with an open mind.

"What? Just walk him in there and tell him he has to talk?"

"Look, you're important to Eddie, just like he means a lot to you, right? So if he truly cares about you like I think he does, then tell him. Tell him the only way to work this out is to talk it through, tell him he needs to work this out and then you can sit down with him and see where you go from here."

She knew the boys were close, they were like blood brothers. So if Eddie truly wanted to save this friendship and try to continue working together, he would agree. He would talk to someone and try to help himself and let everyone else help him. And then they could talk this through and try to patch things over and move forward.

Eddie clearly needed help and they had to get him that help, whether he thought he needed it or not.

"You think he will?" Evan tried not to let hope flood his voice, he could fill himself with false hope right now. He'd done that enough in his life and it gave him nothing but disappointment. But he was desperate for things to work out and pick up from this. He didn't want things to get to a lower point than this.

He straightened up, clicking his spine into place and tilting his head from side to side to crack his neck. But he paused when he felt Maddie's hand curve around his. Her fingers were soft and warm and made him think back to the times when she would sit with him in the dead of night after he'd had a nightmare.

The way she smoothed her hand up and down the back of his hand and wrist made Evan feel lightheaded and warm and cared for and understood, all the things he only ever felt when he talked to his sister about his problems.

"I think you're just as important to him as his family, and he won't want to lose you." Her smile brought a sense of calm washing over Evan and he curved his wrist so he could give her hand a squeeze. "How's (Y/n) doing with all of this? I can't imagine it being easy."

"She's okay, she… I think she thought I'd be angry at her. As if,"

Evan took the chance to move away from the kitchen counter and peek around the doorway into the living room.

Joy and a whole mountain of love soared through Evan's chest when he looked over at his partner. Seeing (Y/n) knelt down in front of the coffee table with a flurry of plastic cakes and teapots and fake cups and saucers surrounding her and Jee happily at her side, the sight did something to Evan.

The sight made his heart skip a beat and had heat rising to his cheeks and flooding his skin until he was turning red.

He loved how sweetly (Y/n) smiled at Jee and nodded, holding out her cup for a pretend refill. And he found himself grinning as he watched her decline another saucer with a plastic cupcake on top, saying she'd already had four cakes and was about to explode.

It was a sight that cemented things for Evan. It was something that made all the nerves and adrenaline in his stomach die down and replace them with gratitude and a homely feeling.

That was what he wanted. (Y/n) was what he wanted. Any future Evan tried to imagine, he couldn't think of one without (Y/n) being a part of it.

When he thought of coming home from work in a few years time, he could see (Y/n) at home with him. When he thought about moving out of the loft and getting a proper home like Maddie had done here with Chimney, Evan saw (Y/n) by his side. When he saw himself with kids, this was the sight that came to the front of his mind. (Y/n) with kids. With their kids.

He loved how Jee attached herself to (Y/n). He loved how easily (Y/n) fell into place with Maddie as if they had known each other their whole lives. He loved how the rest of the team intergrated (Y/n) as one of them and took to her like she was always supposed to be part of their group, their team, their family.

"Can you blame her? She must have been worried… I know when I thought I caused problems between Chim and Hen it scared me. She wouldn't want to ruin your bond with Eddie."

Maddie could sympathise and see things through (Y/n)'s perspective. She could see how (Y/n) would think Evan might get angry at her, think she was trying things on with Eddie or deliberately causing problems because of how close they were. She could see that (Y/n) would panic about causing waves within the team since they were such a close-knit family.

A soft, nurturing smile fluttered across Evan's lips while his cheeks turned a deeper shade of pink which made him look bashful, especially with the way he looked at his sister through his lashes.

He took another daring look over his shoulder, making sure (Y/n) was still occupied trying to handle the amount of pretend refills his niece was handing over. His lips rolled together as he sighed and looked down at his feet while his hand rummaged around in his jacket pocket, trying to find something he needed his sister's opinion on.

"What do you think?"

Maddie took another sip of her coffee before she put her mug down and held her hands out with an inquizitive smile. She rose a brow and waited for her brother to hand over whatever was in his pocket. But the moment the square velvet red box was in her hands, her heart jumped up into her throat and her jaw slacked.

"Buck… oh my god." All she could do was dart her eyes between the ring and her brother, staring up at him with anticipation and love and hope and a little confusion held within her chocolate eyes. "You're sure?"

There was no malice or hidden insult or trepadation in her voice. All Evan could hear was love and giddiness that made her tone rise an octave and had her voice breaking off at the end.

She had never known her brother become this hopeful and serious about a relationship before. What he had with Abbi was somewhat serious, but there had been a lot of problems with them. His relationship with Taylor had been very one-sided with Evan putting all the effort and love into it only to get tiny reflections and gratitude in return. And she had been selfish which fed off of Evan's giving nature.

He had had serious relationships before, but none of those had ever gotten to the point where he would ever think about marriage.

What he had with (Y/n) was different.

When Evan looked at her he could see a future, he could see something he desperately wanted and something that made his heart soar and had his nerves tingling and fizzling like he was electrified. He was hopeful when he looked at (Y/n). He was in love when he looked at her and everything about her resonated with Evan's soul.

He nodded, trying not to bite down too harshly on his lip and tear through the skin. "You think she'll like it?"

"She's gonna love it." The excitement coursing through Maddie had her jumping from foot to foot. She was itching to go through there now and get her brother down on his knee just so she could witness the proposal and share this excitement.

They were both finally going to be happy. After everything the siblings had been through, this was their time. Maddie had her husband and her daughter and Evan had found someone he wanted to commit to. Things were finally looking up for them.

"When are you gonna ask?" Maddie's hands were shaking when she carefully closed the lid and gave the box back to Evan.

"I would of asked last week, Eddie kind of dampened the mood. But I can't wait much longer, I might try after work tomorrow." Evan's shoulders slacked and he held his arms out when Maddie moved over to wrap him up in a hug. She pressed her cheek against his sternum and gave a tight squeeze, making a quiet 'aww' sound that had Evan laughing.

He would of asked (Y/n) at some point last week, if everything with Eddie hadn't blown up in their faces. After that, he couldn't find the right time without feeling like a shadow was looming overhead.

But he had to ask soon, he couldn't wait another day. He wanted to ask and see if (Y/n) would say yes to spending the rest of her life with him. He wanted to see the ring on her finger and tell people and show her off and say that she was going to be his wife.

He had technically already asked her at the bachelor party anyway, declaring he was going to marry her at some point. And (Y/n) hadn't objected to the idea, so he was confident the answer would be yes.

He just needed to find the right time to ask.

***

A quiet grumble broke free from (Y/n)'s lips and she nuzzled her nose into the pillow, inhaling Evan's scent as her mind tried to go back to sleep but her ears picked up on something.

It didn't feel like she had been asleep for long. Whenever Evan had been on a night shift recently, (Y/n) ended up staying up late. She didn't like sleeping alone. She didn't like being in the apartment on her own, it just didn't feel right without Evan here.

Her head groggily lifted up from the pillow and she kept her eyes closed, focusing all her efforts to tune her ears into what noise had woken her up. She knew she heard something. The sound of a lock faintly clicking and hinges squeaking made (Y/n)'s heart add in an extra two beats to her rhythm and the adrenaline that pooled in her stomach made (Y/n) push up into a sitting position.

It was the front door.

Why was Evan coming home already?

Opening her eyes, (Y/n) glanced over at the clock on the bedside table. It was nearly midnight. Evan was on the seven til seven shift, he wasn't supposed to be finished until seven in the morning and with getting showered and getting ready, he shouldn't be home until almost eight. He had been at work for almost five hours, why was he coming home so early?

Was he feeling sick? Had he had some type of accident? Surely not, or else he would be at the hospital rather than coming home like this. Maybe he had ended up switching shifts. Perhaps something had gone wrong and he physically couldn't carry on with his shift.

Every thought possible rattled through (Y/n)'s brain as she rubbed her eyes, feeling her body waken up immediately with worry for her partner.

Her legs swung over the side of the bed and her feet sank down into the fluffy rug that felt like walking on candy floss.

Her fingers tangled in her hair and she padded across the room, jumping onto her tiptoes when the cold laminate floor sent shockwaves through her soles and up her legs. She squinted when the lights downstairs turned on, basking the apartment in a warm orange glow that resonated up the stairs.

(Y/n) reached out for the bannister but she didn't take one step when she looked down.

Something horrid plunged into her heart and stole her breath and for a dreaded moment, her balance shifted and she almost toppled forwards. It took all her strength to regain her balance and shuffle backwards, away from the top of the stairs. All while she couldn't catch one breath and her lungs started to ache and burn from lack of oxygen.

Eddie.

Her hand pressed to her mouth to stop herself from making a sound while her other hand clenched the bannister until her nails were creating indents in the wood and she was about to get splinters beneath her skin.

What was he doing here?

Why was he here at midnight? Why did he just let himself in instead of knocking?

Both (Y/n) and Evan clearly forgot Eddie had a key. Evan gave him a key years ago because of how frequently he came round for a drink or a catch up and when he was dropping Chris off. Not to mention for emergencies. With everything Evan had gone through, he felt afraid that some mornings he might not wake up or he might slip back into a coma. He wanted Eddie and Bobby and Maddie to have keys in case he wasn't well or something happened to him and they needed to come round and check on him.

And of course Evan hadn't asked Eddie for the key back. They were still trying to patch their friendship back together and asking for the key would be like terminating their friendship or implying Evan didn't trust Eddie. But he didn't trust Eddie, at least not around (Y/n).

Oh God. Did Eddie know Evan was at work tonight?

Is that why he's here, because he knows I'll be alone?

Every part of (Y/n) began to shake as she shuffled backwards, trying not to pick her feet up in case she made echoes on the laminate. But it didn't really matter whether Eddie knew she was awake or not. She wasn't going to be able to sneak past him to get out the flat and it wasn't like she could hide up here in the bedroom or climb down from the balcony. She was effectively trapped.

Her hands reached out for the bed and she used it as leverage to lower herself down onto the rug. She shakily took her phone from the bedside table and hunkered down, curling over until her chest was pressed down against her thighs.

She clicked on Evan's contact and held the phone to her ear, suddenly realising how loud the dialling tone sounded. Would Eddie be able to hear it from downstairs? Would he know she knew he was here? Would he get angry?

Evan didn't answer.

(Y/n) didn't expect him to, he was on a night shift and she knew they got a lot of call outs during the night. He was probably in the truck or in the middle of a call with his phone back in the truck or back in his locker at the station.

Who else could she call? She didn't have Maddie's number, and she wasn't sure if Maddie would wake up this late in the night if her phone rang, some people didn't. She didn't know if Maddie would even come down here if (Y/n) asked her for help. She didn't want to be a burden and have the first time she called Maddie be because she needed to ask for assistance.

Bobby.

As if a lightbulb had gone off above her head, (Y/n) turned to Evan's bedside drawer. She shakily dragged it open and tried to be as quiet as she could when she pushed a few things to the sides. Moving past the medication boxes, earbuds, the old notepad for scribbling important details down. The five different coloured pens he had in there which he was always messing about with. She ignored the ball of blue tac and the few important documents he had folded in the back of his drawer.

Her fingers latched around the thin black leather book that she remembered Evan showing her a while back.

His address book.

It didn't matter that Evan had a very good memory for certain things such as movie quotes, exact conversations from five years ago, random facts people told him in passing. People's middle names or the name of their pets. Evan was terrible with addresses.

He could visualise and remember exactly where someone's house was, but he never remembered street names or house numbers.

(Y/n) flicked to the letter B, already knowing Evan would have him under Bobby rather than Bobby Nash. And she could feel tears of relief pooling in her eyes when she noticed in the dim lighting that Evan had indeed written Bobby's number down beneath his address.

Just in case his phone got lost or crashed; it didn't matter that Evan knew Bobby's number by heart. Emergency situations were always catered for.

(Y/n) tapped the number into her phone, jumping against the bed when she heard Eddie's footsteps thudding about downstairs. She had no idea what he was doing and she didn't want to know either. She just wanted him to stay down there and not dare to come up here.

(Y/n) pressed her forehead against the mattress and curved her left arm around her waist to try and keep herself calm and slow down her breathing. She could feel her tears soaking into the mattress and she sniffed, trying to control herself but it was becoming hard.

She felt stupid. She felt like a child for panicking this much and not knowing what to do, but Eddie frightened her.

Evan told her not to talk to Eddie again. He told her to stay away from Eddie until Evan had sorted everything out and made sure Eddie was okay and under control. Being alone with him wasn't an option and Bobby said she was a trigger for Eddie and therefore shouldn't be around him in case she set him off.

But this wasn't her fault. She hadn't asked him round or even let him in, he had done this all on his own.

"Hello?" Bobby's confused voice sent waves of relief rushing through (Y/n) and a tidal wave of tears soaked into the bed when she realised he'd answered. She had clearly woken him up. He was still on the A shift and that meant he was mostly on days. Bobby was the captain and therefore he needed to be at the station during the day to sort shifts and do the occasional meeting as well as being on the floor with the team.

She felt bad for waking him up, but at least he was at home and he had answered and she knew he would help her.

"Bobby? I-it's (Y/n)."

"Oh, hi. Are you okay, is something wrong?" He wasn't stupid. He could hear the panic in her voice and he knew anyone calling him at midnight had to be either drunk out of their heads or in need of help. "Eddie's here." Her voice shook despite how quietly she was whispering down the line.

"Where? At your apartment? Don't let him in I'll-"

"He has a key, he's already inside." She was sure she heard a few curse words muffle down the line. "What do I do?"

"If you can get to the bathroom, get in there and lock the door. Or if you can make it out the apartment, get out and find a neighbour. I'm getting dressed, I'll come down to you and I'll contact the station to get a message across to Buck. Don't worry, okay?"

Something about his voice and his words were soothing, like he was already in Captain mode and he knew exactly what to do and how to handle this situation. But (Y/n) couldn't help but worry. She knew what Eddie was like when he was round her and she knew what she had seen so far was only the tip of the iceberg.

(Y/n) wanted to say thank you. It was on the tip of her tongue until she heard footsteps. Loud footsteps. Worn heels stomping against the stairs.

Her eyes lifted towards the stairs in the corner of the room and her thumb ended the call before she could try and say any sort of thank you or another plea for help. She dropped her phone on the rug and pushed up until she could slump onto the bed to sit down.

She didn't want Eddie to know she had called for help; that might be something that would push him into a manic episode and (Y/n) couldn't afford that happening.

She scrunched the covers up in her fists and coiled inwards until she was as small as she could make herself. She squinted when Eddie flicked on the bedroom light but seeing him stood there at the top of the stairs made her lips pull down into a deep frown.

He looked disshevelled. Hair askew on his head in all directions. His shirt was glued to his frame and looked like he had spilt something down the front. He was leaning heavily on the wall like he couldn't hold himself up. His pupils were blown wide but his eyes were half-lidded like he was ready to drop down and sleep on the floor.

He was drunk.

The last time he had been drunk around (Y/n) he had started to get nasty. He had grabbed her at the bar and started getting frustrated when he talked to her. His alternate fantasy must come alive when he was drunk because she could see he wanted to smile when he looked at her.

Was he seeing Shannon when he looked at her? Did he feel like he had gone back in time and was back to the part of his past where he was somewhat happily married?

Did he even know what he was in Evan's flat right now, or did looking at (Y/n) make everything else blur? Could Eddie only focus on looking at her and thinking he was back with Shannon?

"You're awake."

His words stunned (Y/n) for a moment. She wasn't expecting that, although she wasn't too sure what she was expecting him to say if she was being honest with herself.

She thought maybe he would go straight into a rant, that he would shout at her for ruining things with Evan. Maybe he might scream at her for changing things at work, for making him an outcast and causing Evan to switch to the B shift. (Y/n) wondered if he would look at her and straight away start calling her Shannon and telling her how much he missed her and wanted her to come home. Maybe she anticipated him lunging at her and yelling.

A soft, if surprised, statement like that wasn't what she expected, but it calmed down her raging heart that was thumping against her ribs so hard and fast she felt like a race horse.

"I- I heard you come in… are you okay?" Her foot glided across the carpet and every time her toes brushed her phone, she envisioned it ringing.

She wasn't sure whether it was on silent or not. If it was on silent, Eddie wouldn't hear it if Bobby tried to call her back or if Evan called when Bobby finally managed to get hold of him. But if it wasn't and someone called her, Eddie would know. He would know straight away that she had tried to call for help because who would ring her at this time of night unless for an emergency or because she had called for help?

"Sure. I'm just fine when you're here, and I can't have you."

His name was on the tip of her tongue but (Y/n) quelled the thought to speak and settled for biting her tongue instead. He said before that he loved it when she said his name. Something in her voice had to remind him of Shannon and (Y/n) didn't want to do anything to lead Eddie on or antagonise him and if he liked hearing his name from her lips, then she couldn't speak it.

Sadness pooled in her eyes, but she couldn't find any response. What was she supposed to say to that? How could she show Eddie that she felt sorry for him, that she sympathised with him and somewhat understood his pain. She understood the longing he felt and how desperate he was to see and be with Shannon again.

If something happened to Evan and (Y/n) saw someone who looked so familiar, she had no idea how she would act or what she would say or do. She might attach to that person and want to be around them, want to linger in the memories they provoked.

"Buck told me to stay away. He won't even speak to me, you know, he only texts to ask about Chris. He said I can't go near you, and he told Bobby. He told Bobby I'm messed up, and now the Captain told me to stay away from you too. You're well guarded."

His tone was cynical and the smile on his face was sharp like broken glass, but it was the crease in his narrowed eyes that set (Y/n) on edge. All he needed was a knife or a gun in his hand and he would look every bit like a derranged criminal.

"They're just worried about you, they want to help-"

"How is Buck keeping you from me helping?" He snapped his jaw like a crocodile and took a step closer until he was stood at the end of the bed. It was as if he thought she was a memory and he didn't dare touch her, not yet. Not until he had reassured himself that she wasn't about to disappear.

"How should we help you?"

Her words stunned him. Mainly because Eddie didn't want their help, and partly because he didn't think he needed it. Well, some of him did. The sensible part of his brain knew he was in the wrong and that he had to clean up his act and stop this before he ruined every good relationship he had in his life.

He was straining his friendship with Bobby and the team. He was breaking every bond he had with Evan. He was going to emotionally damage his son by doing this. And he was ruining the friendship he could of had with (Y/n) by acting out against her.

But he didn't know how to stop, he didn't know how to ask for help or what kind of help he needed. All Eddie knew was the way (Y/n) made him feel when he was around her and it was a feeling that he wanted to savour. He wanted the nostalgia she brought him when he looked at her. He wanted the butterflies in his chest when he heard her voice, or the way he felt euphoric when he heard her say his name.

Most of all, Eddie wanted that spark in his chest and the fire in his blood when he kissed her. He wanted that light back in his system and that feeling of being alive, being in love and being whole again when he touched (Y/n).

Why was that so wrong?

"I just wanna be with you. Do you know how hard it is to look at you and not reach out for you? Do you know what it's like to miss you so fucking much and then have everyone tell me I can't ever touch or kiss you again? That you're not mine?"

Tears spilled down Eddie's face and the redness beneath his eyes suggested this wasn't the first time he had been crying tonight, and it probably wouldn't be the last either.

She isn't mine. She loves Buck. He has her.

Eddie could think of nothing else but those three little variations and they weren't what he wanted to hear.

I'm coming home. I love you. I'm yours, Eddie.

Those were the varying combinations of three words that Eddie was desperate to hear. Those were the words Eddie heard in the dead of night. They were what he tried to listen out for whenever she spoke. That was what he saw when he looked into her eyes. Why wouldn't she just say them? Why couldn't she love him back? Why did she have to belong to Evan?

"I don't know what that's like, and I'm so sorry." (Y/n) bowed her head and looked down to her hands that unravelled from the cover so she could run her fingers up and down her thighs instead. "Why are you here?" She tried to keep her voice as gentle as possible so Eddie wouldn't think she was being snide or rude.

But if Eddie knew all of this, if he understood that (Y/n) wasn't his and that he shouldn't be here, then why turn up? Why come down here at all if he knew it was going to be the wrong decision? How was this going to help him if he felt guilty for being here and if he knew everyone was going to hate him for making this choice?

"Because if I can't have you, neither can he."

(Y/n) didn't see Eddie move until it was too late. Her eyes bulged in her sockets and her lips parted but nothing came out when Eddie's hand latched over her chin.

The force he had was unmatched and the strength in his arm alone was enough to slam (Y/n) down on her back on the bed. His fingertips dug uncomfortably into her cheeks and something dark crossed his eyes as he leaned over her.

His free hand pinned into the mattress just beside her shoulder and his knees pinned into her thighs with him sitting awkwardly on her lap to keep her from moving.

She didn't know what he was going to do. She didn't know how to get away from him. She didn't know when he suddenly stopped crying and switched to glaring daggers into her like she had done all of this on purpose. He was staring down at her like (Y/n) had teased and provoked him and tormented him. As if she had gone out of her way to look and act like Shannon, to dangle that fantasy in front of him only to then take it away from him before he had a proper taste of freedom.

His words seemed to contradict his actions. His words made (Y/n) fret that he was going to hurt her, knock her out, drag her from the apartment and hide her away so Evan could never find her again. It almost sounded like he had committed to the thought of never being able to call (Y/n) his. But pinning her to the bed suggested otherwise.

This suggested Eddie knew what he wanted and he was just going to take it whether anyone tried to stop him or not. It implied he would make (Y/n) his in any way he could to get her to see this through his eyes.

(Y/n) didn't want to contemplate what Eddie was going to do, whether he had a well thought out plan or if he was just playing this second by second.

She was torn between wanting to punch him and wanting to cradle him because he was clearly fractured. He was tormented by the ghost of Shannon and all he wanted was for someone to love him and make him feel the way he did when he was with her. But (Y/n) couldn't do that and she couldn't comfort Eddie when he was acting like this.

She wiggled her head down until her chin was tucked up against her neck and when she loosened her jaw, she sank her teeth down into Eddie's hand. Right into the soft flesh between his thumb and index finger. She chomped as hard as she could until she could feel the muscles tightening beneath her teeth and that horrid, squelching sound of his flesh shifting in her bite.

He didn't let go. He cried out, he growled, he tensed and shifted on top of her. But he didn't let her go. If anything, his fingers tightened against her cheeks and he slammed her head down. If they had been on the floor instead of the bed, he could of knocked her out, but all he did was make her go dizzy and cause an ache in the back of her neck.

The pain didn't seem to bother Eddie, but (Y/n) could see it in his face that it irritated him, like a distraction he couldn't afford to have. So he let her go. He reared his hand back until she released her bite and she tried to catch her breath back while he shook his hand out to get some feeling back.

But then his fingers were scrunching up in the collar of her shirt and he used it as leverage to lift her up off the bed.

He stayed kneeling on the edge of the bed, her thighs pinned between his knees. His groin and abdomen pressed against her and his arm pulled back to his chest causing (Y/n) to sit upright on the bed with her legs dangling over the side, between Eddie's legs.

She tilted her head back, gasping for breath while she sneered at him and tried to grab him by the shoulders to push him off.

"You think wearing his clothes means anything? It doesn't change who you are to me. You're my wife; I won't let him take you."

Eddie's eyes slithered up and down her frame, taking in her attire for the first time since he came into the apartment. She was wearing Evan's white lounge shirt which was now scrunched up in Eddie's fist and digging uncomfortably into the back of (Y/n)'s neck. And it was crumpled up around her thighs, exposing her underwear to Eddie's eagle eyes.

"Calling me Shannon doesn't mean she isn't dead."

She thought her words would make him cry. His eyes glossed over and for a moment, reality seemed to flicker across his pupils that constricted. But then they were black holes again, drawing her in and frightening her down to her core that shuddered beneath him.

His nails scratched her neck and caused a stinging sensation to claw along her cheek. She wasn't sure whether he tried to slap her or if he just caught her when he went to grab her differently.

But he didn't like it when she closed her eyes. She denied him the privellage of seeing her eyes, of seeing the hatred and the fear within them. Both his hands held her by her face, indenting into her cheeks that ached and burned and she could feel her inner cheeks cutting on her teeth from how harshly he held her.

But it was enough for (Y/n) to wriggle away from him. She shimmed down and pushed her weight forward, slamming her arms down into his elbows which gave his body a jolt. All of her weight pushed forward into Eddie's chest and she unbalanced him, falling into his chest as he toppled backwards onto the floor.

Her ankle rolled in the wrong direction and (Y/n) swallowed a cry as her whole leg twitched and throbbed as she clambered over Eddie to get away from him. But not before her hands scuffled along the rug and found her phone she had dropped earlier.

Her palms scraped the floor and she fell down on her knees, twice, when her left ankle gave out each time she tried to stand up.

"Shannon!"

"She's dead!" (Y/n) snapped back as she reached the stairs and took a leap of faith.

She shuffled. Her hands clung to the bannister and she let herself slide down each step, bumping from one to another and she just knew she would be littered in bruises all up and down her bum and the back of her thighs come morning. But it didn't matter, her ankle had given out and until it worked again, she had to get away from Eddie somehow. She had to get into the bathroom because it was the only place where she could lock the door and keep Eddie at bay.

Leaving the apartment wasn't a good idea when she didn't know how long Bobby would be and she didn't know any of the neighbours. None of them would wake up after midnight and give her sanctuary and going out into the street barefoot in nothing but her underwear and Evan's shirt that barely covered her thighs wouldn't do her any good either.

She could feel her phone scraping along the bannister, pinned between the wood and her palm and when she reached the bottom of the stairs, she tried to stand.

"You're not leaving me again." Eddie's voice was cold and brutal and so close that the hairs on the back of (Y/n)'s neck stood up on end.

She let out a scream when his hand latched into her hair and he pushed all of his weight onto her back until she was falling forward. Her arms slammed into the floor and her forehead bashed into the laminate, jolting her body while her knees hit the floor with a bang. But it was Eddie's weight on her back that hurt the most.

It was the feeling of his chest on her back and his face smothered into her neck. It was his hand scrunched up in her hair and his other hand on her shoulder and his leg pinned between her thighs with his hips crushing down on her lower back and bum that hurt the most. All of Eddie was crushing her against the floor and she could barely breathe at all.

It was only after seven agonising seconds that (Y/n) finally took in a strangled breath that wheezed past her lips. She could feel her chapped lips becoming wet as she gasped and spat and tried not to choke as she struggled for air and tears welled up in her eyes.

But once her senses came back to her, she realised her phone was no longer in her hand.

It had been flung across the floor a few feet in front of them.

And now it was ringing.

Eddie's chest heaved against her back and his hand moved from her hair to curve around the back of her neck instead. He stared down at her, nostrils flaring, eyes rabid and breaths as deep as hers while her ringtone flooded the apartment. And (Y/n) knew exactly who was calling.

She knew because her ringtone was always the same, except for one person. She had personalised Evan's ringtone so that whenever he called her, her phone played Crazy In Love. Bobby must have gotten hold of him, or Evan had gotten a moment to check his phone and noticed a missed call. Or maybe Bobby got hold of the station and they had finally told Evan what was going on.

"Who did you call? What did you do?!"

(Y/n) didn't answer; she couldn't answer. She was still gasping for air and her ribs felt like they were breaking beneath Eddie's weight. The floor felt horrid as it crushed her chest and pinned against her abdomen and Eddie's every curve moulded over her own and kept her melted in place against him.

She tried to move. She tried to crawl, to slither out of his arms, to scratch her nails against the floor and drag herself forward towards her phone. She needed to answer, she needed to scream, to gasp or cry or make some sort of derranged noise so Evan knew she was in trouble.

All of her strength was pushed into her right arm and she stretched as much as she could, wiggling against Eddie until her finger brushed her phone and she dragged the white button across the screen.

"Ev-" Something horrid wheezed past (Y/n)'s lips when Eddie's hand clamped over her mouth and his left arm pinned around her neck.

She couldn't breathe anymore. She couldn't move. She couldn't talk or wriggle or hit out or shift in any direction.

Her body went limp and her chest seized up while her blurry eyes rolled to the back of her head. But they didn't stay like that for long. It felt like she had barely been in a choke hold for one second before she realised she was suddenly being moved.

Her arms flopped across the floor, trying in vain to drag herself along the floor and move but it was too hard. It was too much effort to try and get away from Eddie when all of her energy was dwindling like she was an engine with a leak. And trying to move forwards only strained the arm around her neck and cut off her breathing. She couldn't last any longer without a proper breath, so she gave in.

(Y/n) let Eddie man handle her and the back of her head bashed into his shoulder, causing her body to jerk in spasms while her eyes rolled in circles, trying to gain some sense of focus again.

(Y/n) couldn't find the ability to breathe or move and she couldn't focus on what was happening. She couldn't even hear Evan's voice as he called something through the phone which sounded distant like Evan was held underwater.

Her stomach tensed and her chest seized up again when she felt Eddie's arm tighten around her neck and his right arm bound around her waist.

He had her back pinned into his chest and her body slumped between his thighs. They were both sitting up on the floor but (Y/n) felt like she was about to slide down and lay out on the floor. Her body was being held up by the arm around her throat that was close to choking her.

Both her hands moved to grip Eddie's bicep and she dug her nails into his arm, pulling as much as she could to try and get him to relent and let her go.

The feeling of Eddie's face smothering against the side of her head made (Y/n)'s lips twitch and pull into a frown.

She could feel tears dripping down her cheeks when he started to take ragged, gasping breaths against her skin. She could feel his chest rising and falling rapidly, crushing into her back with every inhale. And she knew he was crying again, just like she was.

It was only then that (Y/n) realised she could hear Evan.

"(Y/n) please! What the Hell is going on?"

Hearing Evan calling out her name made (Y/n) cry harder. She hated when he used her name because of how she had become used to hearing him call her any other pet name that he could. He only used her name when something serious was going on and she hated it.

Her heels scraped against the floor in a vain attempt to keep herself pushed up and to try and lift her head higher to take a big, deep breath. She sniffed and gasped, inhaling a deep breath as Eddie seemed to hold her tighter and curled around her like he was trying to morph them into one person.

"Eddie, p-please," (Y/n) didn't know what she was trying to say or what she was begging for, but she knew her words fell upon deaf ears.

He started to kiss her temple while his right arm pinned into her stomach until he was crushing her and making her feel sick. And she let out a small, frail sob when Eddie started to rock them back and forth. It was almost as if he was cradling her, as if he was trying to comfort her when he was the one in need of help and comfort.

She stopped digging her nails into his arm and instead tried to shakily rub her hands up and down his arms. Maybe comforting him would make him stop. Maybe trying to feign understanding and calming herself down would in turn make Eddie calm down. Then she could slip away from him and get across into the bathroom.

But his hold was so tight that (Y/n) doubted she would get away from him or get very far before he launched on her again. Being pinned in his arms like this felt better than being crushed on the floor with him on top of her. This felt safer. Eddie couldn't hurt her or try and do anything drastic while they were like this. He may be hurting her and giving her bruises, but it was better than him pinning her to the floor or the bed and trying to rip her clothes off or scream at her for leaving him.

She heard Evan's pleas call out through the air so loud he sounded like he was on loud speaker. "Eddie what are you doing? Don't do this. Think of me, think of Chris, please. Whatever the fuck you're doing, stop!"

(Y/n) gasped, drawing in a strangled breath when Eddie's arm loosened from her stomach and he reached across for her phone. His chest pinned down into her back and he creased over her, pushing her forward so he could end the call and toss the phone into the kitchen.

"I can't- I don't know how to love anyone else. I love you. I love you."

Those three little words played on repeat until (Y/n) was sobbing and Eddie was crying them into her neck.

She felt his head tilt down so his face was smothered in her neck and he started dragging his lips across her skin. Leaving wet, open-mouthed touches in his wake that had (Y/n) shaking and her fingers leaving indents in Eddie's arm while his right arm went back to imbedding in her stomach.

He'd never said that to her before.

Eddie had never said he loved her. He never got far into the delusion of being with Shannon when he was around (Y/n). Whenever he was with her, he seemed to get angry. He showed her how wrecked he was because she had left him, he pleaded with her to come home. He told her how much he and Chris missed her and how much he wanted her and needed her. But he always seemed angry with her.

Shannon had died before Eddie could clear the air with her or tell her how much she meant to him or tell her that he wanted to make things work between them if they could. She died with so many things left unsaid and now Eddie was saying them all to (Y/n) in the vain fantasy that Shannon was really back in his life.

That fantasy seemed to be crumbling around him. Eddie could hear the timer ticking away in the back of his head. He could feel the walls closing in. He could feel Evan and Bobby getting closer to taking (Y/n) away from him for good and he could feel his world crumbling into tiny fragmented pieces.

And he was doing whatever he could to keep (Y/n) with him, to keep this thought of Shannon alive.

If Bobby or Evan didn't get here soon, (Y/n) dreaded to think what Eddie might do. She found herself sobbing as he crushed her harder in his embrace until she couldn't breathe and he spoke against her neck, his words chilling her down to her core.

"Buck can't have you. He can't take you from me."

[z3rinn]

# #. KINGDOM CALLING !!

Being a Keyblade Wielder you thought you'd have seen everything by now. But you never expected to end up in a world where the villains you defeated were worshipped.

more twst x kh content because i’ve been hyper fixated on it for the past few months T_T speaking of, the reason I've been gone for so long is because I’ve now got a fic in the makings- using this exact concept! it’s posted on my wattpad and quotev, but I’m also debating if I should put it on this site… it’s quite long though! lmk if you guys think I should :]

Twisted Wonderland was weird.

You thought you’d have seen everything by now. Being a Keyblade Wielder, your job was to travel across worlds, defeating the darkness and hate spread by those willing to conquer.

You’d experienced stories and magic you could barely comprehend, standing on the sidelines as you watched fairytales play right before your eyes.

Creatures and supernaturals were considered friends, being far different from the monsters you imagined them to be. Even talking animals were a common thing now, having traveled with Donald Duck and Goofy for a better part of three years now.

You never thought you'd miss them.

Your life back on Destiny Islands was simple. Back there, you had a home; with small rowing boats and hammocks on the tiny island a quick swim away. You had proper food, with star shaped fruits said to bind your soul with your loved ones. Most importantly- you had your best friends; Sora, Riku, and Kairi— all eccentric yet lovable characters that held your heart. You would do anything for them.

The island was a sanctuary, a place for comfort and familiarity. If you had known what you did now, you would've trapped yourself there, basking in the warm sand and cool water brushing across your body. But then, being young and immature, you just wanted to leave.

Three years have passed since then. Years full of mystery and surprise.

You had undergone many things on your journey; battling against Heartless and monsters. Falling down rabbit holes and encountering princesses every which way you turned. Meeting leaders of all kinds of worlds, binding your hearts to create everlasting friendships. You had even sided with villians, willing to set aside your differences to accomplish your goals.

It was odd… working with Maleficent.

At one point you even had your heart stolen. Ripped away from you to create a husk. And that was just the surface.

You thought you had seen everything by now....

But Twisted Wonderland was weird.

Everything happened so suddenly; kicking open an overly fancy coffin ( far different from the ones Jack Skellington used ) only to be met by a creature that looked oddly like Stitch. But before you could ask anything, he gave chase, demanding you give him your robes— how did you even get these on?

Panic stricken, you ran. Running across classrooms, hallways, and courtyards- all while trying to get away from the cat.

Questions and concerns began to gush through your mind. How could you have gotten here? Where was everyone?

And where were you?

The next thing you knew, you were in a regal library, cornered by the monster. Floating books and dancing lanterns surrounded you, all approaching with intrigue. They all seemed to be observing you, like they were anticiping something.

Blue fire brushed across your skin, the flames flickering against your robes. You realized they were waiting for a spell, like they knew you would cast it before the thought could even pop into your mind.

Just as you raised your hand, getting ready to summon your Keyblade, a whip wrapped around the cat.

Both of you jumped, eyes darting to the double doors, finding a crow-looking man standing there. He looked oddly disappointed. Your eyes immediately narrowed, hands tensing.

Just looking at him made you feel on edge.

He was radiating darkness.

His golden eyes seemed to be staring right into your soul, gazing deep and pulling you apart from the seams. They pierced through your own. Entrancing. Like they were studying and discerning your moves. You didn't like them.

They looked like a villians.

You were wary of the man, raising a brow when he introduced himself. Crowley was his name; Descendant of a Hero. An odd name for someone whose heart seemed so full of darkness. He led you to a chamber room, surrounded by floating coffins and magic. Dark energy overfilled the room, whispers and cackles echoing from robed figures as they eyed your form.

You thought back to Organization XIII.

You didn't like robes all that much anymore.

They were traumatizing.

Crowley huffed, pushing you in front of— the magic mirror? Was that the one The Evil Queen used?

The mask in the mirror spoke, blank eyes narrowing at you as if you'd attack it at any second. Of course, it had every right to be afraid. Your friend literally threw a giant key at it once. Hopefully it could get passed that though, and you could ask it how you got here?

It bullshitted something about you not having a soul, ( you had a strange inkling it was being petty but whatever ) but before it could finish, the cat broke free.

He yelled, claiming he was strong enough to be at this school, and that he deserved your spot. You tilted your head at his outburst. Was that all he wanted? You gladly would've given your spot to him. You weren’t meant to be in this world in the first place. Hopefully you’d be out of here soon.

You had Heartless to go fight.

You had to go find Sora.

A quick mishap occurred, with Grim ( you remembered his name ) setting the room on fire. Apparently he was trying to show off his magic; an odd way to do so but you digress. A red haired boy chased after him, along with a boy with glasses.

Their magic was strange, coming out of a jeweled pen of all things.

Wind magic was casted, similar to your own Aero spells. Water attacks were aimed at it, easily dousing the blue flames. It was honestly amazing, watching so much magic come out of a tiny pen.

The redhead stopped in front of the cat, pointing his pen at him with narrowed eyes. Your own widened as he shouted a curse.

Off with your head.

That sounded awfully familiar.

…

Crowley was going to kick you out.

The magic mirror- or rather the dark mirror- explained that you didn't have a home to go to. You guessed it was because Destiny Islands was a whole other world, and simple mirror travel wouldn't be able to reach that far.

No matter, you could simply contact Donald or Riku on your Gummi phone and go home.

But of course, the first time a phone specifically made to communicate between worlds doesn't work is when you need it most.

So you did the only thing you could.

And showed him your Keyblade.

He muttered something to himself, widened eyes never leaving the blade in your hand. His feathers ruffled in surprise and intrigue, the slight curl of them being… strange. 

It was as if they were smiling.

Your eyes flickered to his own- noticing his scary… intense gaze.

You didn’t dare break contact, being far too focused on those piercings eyes. 

Those haunting, golden eyes. 

Eyes that looked just like Xehanorts.

The Headmage led you to a rundown cabin, home to a variety of ghosts and cobwebs. The building reminded you of the ones in Halloween Town; rundown with mischievous creatures inhabiting the spaces. These ghosts just looked like marshmallows.

You let out a low sigh, allowing yourself to fall on the dusted couch in the lounge. Debris flew up under your weight, flying into the air before dissapting. Your gaze was focused on the ceiling above, dazed as rain droplets fell to your cheeks and the wooden floors below.

The building was silent, aside from the rain. Wind blew against cobwebs, flying past your face and sticking to the rotting wood. Splinters and jagged pieces spiked up, parts of the walls ripped apart from age and student endeavors.

It was lonely here.

You didn't have anyone in this world.

Not even Jiminy fucking Cricket.

You hadn’t been alone in a long time.

The door creaked open, "Myah- it's really pouring out there!"

...

Twisted Wonderland.

That's what this place was called.

A world very befitting for its name.

Everything about this world was off— or at least— Night Raven College was.

Students seemed to love and adore the beings you had tried so desperately to keep away. They had dorms dedicated to them, embracing their darkness and allowing themselves to fall under its curse. Darkness that you had to get rid of.

Of course, they didn't actually know about the dangers you faced, finding these villians to be great and kind. They didn't know of the death and tragedy caused- the mistakes you had to fix.

It was strange though. Worlds weren't supposed to know of one another, otherwise chaos could ensue.

So why was Twisted Wonderland a combination of them all?

You suppose that's how this place got its name.

Everything in this world was twisted. Villians were considered heroic; great and all mighty beings that you and Sora definitely didn't beat.

While in the botanical gardens you sometimes laugh, imagining Leona's face if you told him you helped kill Scar. He gives you weird looks, telling you to shut up and go back to sleep. You try. It doesn’t work.

It wasn't until the Riddle incident did you realize why you were sent to this world. Darkness and hatred had been accumulating in the corners of this realm, seeping into the depths of people's hearts.

It was at times like this that made you miss Sora.

You turned over on your bed, eyes focused on the ceiling above. Moonlight seeped in through the wooden cracks, bits of the glowing celestial body peeking in. It was almost speaking to you, luring you towards it with the promise of comfort.

Kingdom Hearts.

Your eyes shut, turning away from the beckoning moon.

Well whatever. You had another long day ahead of you.

…

Thoughts? This was just a quick wip that I made in like an hour lolll. I’m thinking of doing another part tho, where we dive into character interactions and such. Rlly wanna write for Silver and a KH! MC!

[makeyoumine69]

Last Memory (Memory Reboot x5)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Patrick Bateman x gn!Reader

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: Some time after Patrick and Evelyn got married, Bateman thought he could live a normal life and finally forget about you, but he didn't realize that he was already starting to lose his grip on reality, slowly but surely.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: NSFW, Patrick's POV, angst, lots of sex, canon violence, blood, near-death experiences, dark themes, obsession, strong hallucinations, blowjobs, pussy eating, rough vaginal and anal sex, cum eating, tainted love vibes, drug use, depressing thoughts and intentions, blackout and fainting, rough choking, spanking, masturbation, cheating, dirty talk and slurs, pet names, degradation kink, self-harm and panic attacks implied, unstable Patrick is a warning himself, I might have forgotten something because this chapter is long af, so forgive me if I really did.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 15k

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐂: VØJ, Narvent—Last Memory; Timecop1983—Back to You

ᴀ/ɴ: Hello dear readers, I'm sorry to keep you waiting, but I just wanted to make this chapter as good as possible! After several rewrites, I think I am finally happy with the result. I'm very sad that Memory Reboot will end in the next update, but I hope you enjoy this angsty story! Also, there are some easter eggs in this chapter, so be on the lookout! And please be aware that there is a lot of trigger material in this chapter, so be careful! Thank you so much for sticking with me, you are all incredible!

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐒: [MASTERLIST]; [SERIES MASTERLIST]

An annoying, sonorous alarm sound woke me up and I had to hit it with my fist, almost breaking it, to make it fucking stop. Yawning, I sat on the bed and realized that I was still in Evelyn's apartment; these cream-colored sheets made me want to cry from how much I hate them, but instead of ripping them off, I stretched my arms. The tension in my body, coursing from my shoulders down to my groin, was an eloquent sign that I needed release. With a loud groan, I stood up and briefly grabbed my dick through my white underwear, which seemed to have been hard all night since that bitch Evelyn, who was my wife by the way, refused to have sex again. It was the second time in a row. Sliding my messy hair back, I walked into the living room and noticed that Evelyn had already left. I sighed with relief that I didn't have to see her irritated face since I was already on the verge of going nuts.    

In the kitchen, I took the bottle of Evian from the fridge and made a long gulp before checking the time on my Rolex, frowning right away as I remembered Evelyn yapping about me always keeping them on, even when I went to bed. 

God, why can't women have their mouths shut sometimes?

With a wry grin, I placed the bottle on the counter and paused for a moment to check my reflection in the gleaming metal door of the refrigerator. Today’s day in the office was going to be tough as hell since I had a fuck ton of stupid meetings I tried to convince Jean to cancel, but she reassured me that it would be too rude to ignore my business partners for too long. Hmmph…

A bit later, when I was almost finishing my work out, I suddenly realized that it had already been two months since me and Evelyn got married. And no, I couldn’t really believe this since all days were like one long day—a day that seemed to never end. Huffing, I did another push-up, the 50th in a row, feeling not tired at all. Small beads of sweat rolled down my tensed forehead and I could care less about brushing them off as I was so focused on the pleasant feeling of my muscles flexing each time my chest almost touched the mat. Normally, sports could easily help me to distract myself, to let off steam, to feel refreshed and clear-headed, but now I was more detached from reality than ever before. And it seemed that no amount of exercise could help. Also, my condition was aggravated by the lack of sex, proper sex. When my muscles finally began to hurt, I stopped doing everything and just lay on the mat, panting and looking at the ceiling above. Then, I slowly looked down at my groin—still hard as rock–before my hand involuntarily grabbed it, eliciting a small gasp to fall from my wet lips. Fuck, I was about to explode from my own touch. That was not normal at all. It was pathetic.

Frustrated, I was certain that even a quick release in the shower wouldn’t soothe my mounting tension. It never did, considering that over the past few days I couldn’t even sleep, and what was worse was that even violence couldn’t bring me this much-needed relief. As I made my way to the bathroom, I was thinking, literally drowning in my obsessive thoughts.

I need more…I really need to get this done. I REALLY NEED IT! I NEED THEM!

 I bit my lip and turned on the shower, then got rid of my white boxers, stepped out of them, and strided on the cold marble. The water washed over me like a tidal wave. I closed my eyes and let the steam splash along my flushed face. My skin felt like it was on fire, as if I were about to crash into the sun. I couldn't find any way to relax. I felt desperate and angry. I was pretty mad, too. But would killing you have helped me find peace? 

If I knew you were gone, if no one could ever be with you the way I was, would that be what I wanted?

 I let out a deep, exhausted sigh and pressed my forehead against the wet tiles, ignoring the way the tip of my cock brushed against the wall, sending tingles into my very core. The images of you covered in blood, trapped beneath me, almost sent me over the edge. I didn't let myself think about it for too long, though, because I knew it would lead to addiction. As if I weren't already hooked. My breathing got a little uneven, and I started scratching at the white tiles as I got hit by a sudden, intense rush of memories. I remembered your voice, your moans, and the way you screamed my name. I wanted to ruin you, to make you bleed, to tear you apart and leave you just like you left me. The pain you caused was so deep, it lingered. I was so caught up in the moment that I didn't realize what I was doing. I let my hand rest on my throbbing length while the fingers of my other hand slid down my lower back, right between my legs. The moment I touched my tensed asshole, I moaned. I was loud and needy. I was embarrassed but also aroused. I thrust into my hand, slowly at first but gradually losing control, while my digit slid inside my ass completely with ease. I couldn't hold back my whimpers as I was about to cum. My vision was filled with blood, intensifying my fantasies about you. With my eyes closed, I was on the brink of losing it when I suddenly heard some commotion coming from behind the bathroom door. 

"Damn!" I groaned and hit the wall in front of me, my dick pulsing even after I let go of it.

"Honey," Evelyn's voice echoed through the bathroom. I turned to see her casually walking to the shower, her blue eyes curiously examining my bare frame as if she was seeing me like this for the first time. "You didn't close the door."

Fuck, I really didn't.

Scrunching my nose, I pushed my wet hair back and spun around completely, giving her the full view of my nakedness. "I thought I'd leave before you got back..." my reply was brash and sharp. "...at least I hoped so."

Evelyn didn't react, she just stood in front of the shower, blinking and staring at me—at the way the water flowed down my sculpted body, to be exact—and something told me that just watching wasn't going to be enough for her.

"So... are you just going to stay and watch?" I said aloud before opening the glass door and letting some steam out of the shower. 

The blonde grinned broadly but remained motionless. "You're not trying to bait me like that, are you?" 

Jesus Christ, this woman is really driving me crazy.

Irritated, still struggling with my boner, I wanted to drag her into the shower without even asking and make her freshly bought Chanel suit so fucking shitty that she would definitely throw a tantrum, but I managed to control myself.

Leaning against the wet glass, I watched her unclasp her jewels, gems that shone in the dim bathroom light, my hands instinctively slipping down to my aching cock as I was now the one watching Evelyn take off her jacket, the delicate shape of her collarbones forcing me to admit that my wife was, after all, absolutely gorgeous and even though I didn't feel anything... sublime towards her, I couldn't deny that every time she did things like that, she stirred up a burning desire in me.

"What if I do?" My voice dropped lower from the tension building at the base of my spine. "You'll find another stupid excuse to deny me, like you always do?" I gave myself a slow stroke, biting my lips and quickly licking them as Evelyn removed her blouse and placed her leg on the edge of the tub, pulling up her skirt so I could see her black stockings. "Why didn't you go for Bryce when you had the chance?"

My body stopped listening to me as I said these words, as if I was hypnotized, but I felt no remorse, only a pang of conscience for how pathetic I probably was right now, standing in the shower jacking off to the woman I didn't really love, who was probably having an affair with my best friend all this time as a bonus.

"And you're bringing up Bryce again," Evelyn murmured, grinning like a vixen, her hands working meticulously to remove her stockings, stopping only when she was done with her expensive clothes, leaving herself only in a white Vanity Fair lingerie I'd bought her a few days ago to stop her hysteria. "Why is this only bothering you now...after we got married?"

"W-what?" I almost choked on my breath, my hand around my cock stalled in its momentum. "What are you talking about? It...it never bothered me."

Still, her words struck a chord within me and now I was even more angry with myself than before. Evelyn obviously thought she was in control of this situation—her extra confident demeanor, the way she moved and talked, even her blue eyes looked different now, as a wicked spark glinted in them. 

For a fleeting moment, I just stood there, trying to lose myself in the warm streams of water, not really knowing what to say, and a suffocating panic crept into my chest, but then, as I found myself gripping the glass shower door with all the force I could muster so that it wouldn't shatter, my vision blurred for a second before I noticed Evelyn's slender body pressed against the glass, her small but pretty breasts looking so damn inviting that I couldn't hold back a groan.

"What were you saying?" She asked indifferently, the water gurgling mixing with her voice inside my head pulling me into a trance.

"Nothing," I replied, leaning forward and pressing myself against the glass door from the opposite side, my dick brushing against it ever so slightly, but even this mere contact made me close my eyes for a dear moment. "I said nothing..." my eyes darkened, pupils dilated. "Now...get in...will you?" I grinned and tilted my head, watching my wife flutter her thick eyelashes like bird wings.

Evelyn didn't answer, standing still with her body pressed against the shower door, and I couldn't hold back anymore—I just dragged her in, not caring about her expensive lingerie getting soggy—I'd buy her a new one if I had to. With a surprised squeal, she then giggled as the streams of water ran down her fit body, her elegant fingers stroking my cheek for a fleeting moment before I picked her up and turned her around to press her against the cool marble wall. Evelyn's gasp echoed through the bathroom, sending a shiver down my spine, as if I were really into her, into all of this, and if that was not me imagining you in her place, if that was not making me want to be somewhere else right now.

Somewhere where nobody could find me. Us. 

"Patrick," Evelyn's voice pulled me out of my thoughts. "Can you hear me? The water's too hot..."

"Too hot?" I repeated, finding her statement so funny for no reason, but I cooled the water with my free hand anyway, still holding Evelyn in my arms as if she weighed nothing. "I'd say something like..."

"It's not the water that's making it hot, it's me," she cut me off, her face turning into a serious grimace, and for a second I felt like I was going to lose my shit. Is she making fun of me? "I've heard that enough, honey."

Frowning at that fucking nickname I really hated, I noticed the way she was pressing on my shoulders, implying that she wanted me to get her down on the floor, and I did—I didn't want to think, I didn't want to guess what was going through her mind—I just wanted to follow. To feel at least something beyond hatred and disgust. But I guess that was too much to ask.

Without saying a word, I knelt before Evelyn, leveled myself with her perfectly waxed pubic area, her breath hitching as I planted a soft kiss on her mound before tracing a finger along her wet from the water folds through the absolutely drenched fabric of her panties, which were now clinging to her like a second skin. I looked up at her with a mischievous grin, the water hitting my eyes painfully, but I held on to watch that raw need emanating from her body—savoring it like a vampire thirsty for blood.

My actions were smooth, calculated. When I got rid of her damp lingerie, I let the wet clothes that were now spread out on the shower floor fall to the ground, forgotten, and I was sure that Evelyn would have to throw them in a garbage can when we were done. The involuntary arch of her back, her hips brushing against my face and the moan she let out when the tip of my tongue flicked around her feverish clit, that was something I could live with. 

Letting Evelyn grind against my face, I began to eat her pussy more feverishly, my one hand holding her open while another was wrapped tightly around my hard dick as I jerked off in sync with my oral ministrations. It was actually a turn-on, but only because I managed to block out all thoughts of you... In another situation they would have helped me to orgasm, but now... now they would only destroy everything. 

I groaned when Evelyn pulled my hair harder than I liked, but I didn't want to punish her for it, not now, because I was still going to fuck her and this would be a perfect moment to show her how I felt and what I really needed. But then again, all of this made me feel pathetic in some odd, twisted way, that I was a starved dog who had to struggle to find barely any food to survive—what was my life—I was not living, I was surviving.

"Yes...yes...just like that," Evelen keened again as I tongue fucked her flushed cunt. "Keep...g-going..."

I could feel that she was so close to collapsing, it was kind of amusing how fast I could always make her cum, if only she knew that I always did it for myself, not for her, but for me. "Cum around my face," I spat out, my overalls buzzing from the tensind at the base of my cock; these little tingles were going to make me explode, but I didn't hesitate, increasing the pace of my own stroking. "Let it go. Now!"

My voice was muffled, gruff, I was sure its vibration only added to the overwhelming rush of bliss that was about to descend upon my wife as her legs began to tremble, her thigh on my shoulder jerking as I dipped my tongue inside her while my thumb caressed her oversensitive bud. And then she climaxed, convulsing and barely holding herself from screaming, I watched as she silenced herself with her palm, her eyes closed tightly, I reveled in such reactions, I always had, so I didn't stop as I wanted to prolong this scene—a scene full of fake emotions and this was just an echo of something I had experienced and lost— because if I stopped, I would fucking die.

Maybe this is what I always needed? Just to...stop existing?

Panting, I finally moved away from her hot, now swollen cleft, my own heart pounding so fast, but I couldn't move, I just stayed on my knees, the water falling on me like a heavy rain from that day I followed you to the airport and watched the plane take you away from me. For the second fucking time in a row.

Meanwhile, Evelyn was slowly coming down from her high, her chest heaving and falling so fast that for a moment I thought she was going to pass out, but then she turned and leaned against the wall, swaying her hips in the most inviting gesture I'd ever seen her make.

"Shit," I murmured almost imperceptibly, my basic instincts finally taking over. "You want me to fuck you?"

Gasping, she nodded and craned her neck to look back at me, I quickly stood and hugged her from behind, my lips tracing a short trail of kisses along her shoulder as I aligned myself with her entrance, she was so aroused and ready for me that I felt no resistance as I pushed myself into her malleable body. Just a few fleeting seconds for both of us to adjust before my pace picked up, the sound of wet flesh against flesh filling the room, and I pressed closer to Evelyn, her high-pitched moans fading in my delusions as I gave in—the images of you were so clear in my mind now that I clenched my teeth to hold back my own moans—I was weak and I hated myself for it.

Luckily Evelyn was on the pill so I didn't have to worry about a sudden pregnancy, but there was still some fear I tried desperately to ignore, my thrusts became ragged, raw and deep, I was about to spill myself inside her, both palms cupping her breasts, rubbing soft mounds, but then I squeezed them quite roughly and Evelyn's loud whimper was a sheer testament to my ferocity. Feeling my whole system shatter, I managed to stop myself from sinking my teeth into her neck as my vision turned white as I reached my peak with your name on my lips, though I never let myself say it out loud.

A little later that morning, as I dressed in my freshly tailored dark charcoal flannel double-breasted suit with wide white pinstripes, the sun was high in the zenith and its rays bathed Evelyn's bedroom in a soft golden hue. This brief encounter of intimacy with my wife gave me some hope that maybe there was still a chance to live a normal life, the one my mother and father always wanted for me, the American dream family they always told me about, but my parents never really tried to understand me, but since Sean chose a different path in life, not the RIGHT one, the legacy of my family fell on my shoulders.

Trapped in my thoughts, I didn't even notice the phone ringing somewhere next to me, I turned around to see a small black phone on the nightstand. At first I decided to ignore it, since I didn't really care about Evelyn's business, I didn't care at all, but this time something inside of me started to sting.

Who can call her at this hour?

With a soft click of my tongue, I finished adjusting my cufflinks and looked back at the buzzing phone, deciding to pick it up and find out who the hell was calling my wife. "Yes? Who's this?"

"Hello, Patrick," your voice crawled into my brain like a parasite, I swallowed, my skin covered in goosebumps and I sweated almost instantly. "How's it going? Don't you think it's a bit pathetic to think of me when you're banging your lovely wife?"

"You?" Was the only thing I managed to say. "Where did you get this number?"

I heard you laughing as if you were right next to me. "Tim gave it to me," you replied with blatant audacity. "Uh...you're not happy to hear me? That's a shame because I thought you missed me."

"Listen," I spat into the phone, gripping it so tightly that it was about to break in a half in my hand. "I don't know who you think you are...but believe me when I say I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOU AND YOUR FUCKING LIFE! DO YOU HEAR ME?!"

"Patrick? Who are you talking to?" I turned to see Evelyn standing in the doorway, her blue eyes full of concern.

Caught red-handed, I took the phone away from my ear and chuckled. "It's just...a random call...nothing serious." When I said that, her face became even more worried. "Is something wrong, darling?"

Evelyn blinked several times before answering. "I definitely remember turning off the phone before I went to sleep...I always do..."

Her words hung in the air for some time before I could actually continue, and when I finally did, I tugged at my collar from the sudden lack of oxygen in my lungs.

What the fuck?

Under Evelyn's attentive gaze, I looked up at the receiver as if seeing it for the first time in my life, then I pressed it to my ear again and all I heard was silence—a deafening, eerie silence—even a single beep could not be discerned. My throat tightened uncomfortably and I felt like throwing up from the tight knot in my stomach, for I'd never felt such fear before.

"Patrick...are you okay?" The blonde woman asked, not daring to come closer. "Are you taking the medicine your psychiatrist prescribed you..."

"Evelyn!"

"No, I'm serious! This isn't funny Patrick, I'm scared," she suddenly confessed and I swore I couldn't remember seeing her so worried. "You need help...why don't you let people help you?"

With that Evelyn stormed out of the bedroom and I was sure she was crying. Damn women, never give you a chance to explain yourself. I cursed before slamming the phone down on its station with a thud, probably shattering the plastic, but who fucking cared? All they cared about was whether I was taking those fucking pills, but no one really cared about...me. 

It took me some time to calm down and finally go to work. I didn't talk to Evelyn before I left, as it was pointless in her current state. As soon as I was outside, I breathed in the fresh air and watched the passers-by walking here and there without even noticing each other, this scene I saw every day, I picked out my Walkman like in a slow motion movie, put the headphones on my head and then attached it to my belt, the next moment I heard Madonna's deep voice surging through my head.

The taxi ride to the Pierce & Pierce office took longer than usual because of the heavy traffic. When I finally entered the high-rise building, I didn't take off my headphones because I didn't really want to talk to anyone, I just walked through the long corridors like a ghost without a name. It was really interesting that I never really thought about my fucking coworkers constantly messing up my name—they didn't know who I was even though we met every week—but you—you remembered it so clearly, there wasn't a single day that you mistook me for someone else. Jean greeted me as always with her sweet smile. Today she wore a dress and high heels. I smiled at such details and pulled up my headphones so I could hear her. 

"Did I miss anything?" I asked casually, thinking I was late as I often was.

Brushing her blonde hair, my secretary rose from her seat, clutching her favorite notebook to her chest. "Timothy Bryce called to ask about lunch."

My eyebrows raised in skepticism at her words.

Bryce. Wants to see me after not talking to me for almost a week. Interesting.

"Uh, right, but I thought I had a pretty busy schedule today?" I asked nonchalantly.

"Well, yeah," she quickly opened her notebook and then raised her bright eyes to me. "But you have a little window..."

At some point, Jean's voice became as much white noise as Madonna's song, the lyrics of which slipped away from me like a leaf in the wind. The thought of Tim finally revealing that he and Evelyn were having an affair behind my back, as if they really thought I could be stupid enough not to notice, brought me a strange sense of relief. It was like an itchy splinter in your finger that you couldn't bring yourself to pull out, but you knew that the longer it stayed there, the worse it would get.

"Okay, Jean," I heaved abruptly. "Be a doll and make a rez in a good place. Then call Bryce back."

Jean was noticeably confused, but I was too overwhelmed with my own chaotic thoughts that there was no room for anything else. With a devoted nod, she returned to her seat and I opened the door to my office, where everything was the same, all things in the places I had left them. At least there seemed to be something constant in my life.

The rustling of chatter and the clinking of silverware against plates mingled in a wild cacophony of sounds I was quite familiar with—I was born in the middle of this madness, to say the least, the lush life of people like me was something you couldn't really avoid, though I never tried to avoid it, I enjoyed every little benefit I got from being rich. 

So now I was sitting in Delmonico's lash interior, holding a glass of J&B on rocks in one hand and a cigar in the other. I waited for Bryce to come and soon I noticed his approaching figure, his black hair slicked back as usual, and I even chuckled at how fucking punctilious this man always was. Tim ordered a glass of Russian vodka and some seafood appetizers. After a short casual conversation we both fell silent and just when I was expecting him to tell me the reason why he wanted to see me, he suddenly picked up a shiny cardholder and put it on the table, then took out a pack of cigarettes to grab one.

"New cardholder?" I asked, definitely remembering that Bryce used to have a different one. "Looks...nice."

"It's platinum," Timothy commented before lighting his cigarette, his gray eyes scanning the room before focusing on me. "It's a gift...from our mutual friend."

Friend?

I almost bit the inside of my cheek to the point of bleeding. "Really?"

Bryce let out a puff of smoke and pointed to my empty glass. "I heard you quit drinking," he grinned and dabbed the ash from his cigarette. "That you're on... some medication."

"I wonder who told you that," my jaw almost snapped in anger, I had to claw at my knee to regain some composure. "And yes, I had to take medication for a while...but I'm on a break now." I hoped he could tell by the tone of my voice that I wasn't going to continue this conversation. "Who else would know how it works better than you since you went through rehab. Am I right, Bryce?"

I knew how much he hated talking about it, so his recent bravado faded like a cloud of smoke, but his cheeky grin never left his face.

"I get it, I get it," he laughed softly before sipping his drink. "You definitely got off on the wrong foot today, but it's okay," the man swirled his glass in his hand, watching the ice cubes clink against its walls. "I just wanted to tell you that... you're definitely missing something. Or maybe I should say—someone."

Narrowing my eyes, I tilted my head to the side. "Maybe you can tell me something more...specific, or are we going to play that crappy guessing game?"

Bryce shifted in his seat and wanted to say something, but he was interrupted by two familiar voices—Craig and David.

Shit, why did those two idiots have to come right now?

The moment was ruined, and so was I.

"Wow, I can't believe my eyes! See, I told you they had a date," McDermott let out a loud chuckle, my fists clenched, and if we were somewhere else, preferably alone, I'd fucking break my glass against his smug face. "I called Jean and she said you two were having lunch together. Isn't that sweet?"

"Oh, fuck you, McDermott!" Bryce retorted, but he wasn't really angry. "Fuck you and your cheap jokes. Your sense of humor is as flat as the ass of that chick you met in the Tunnel yesterday. Besides, how was she?"

The Tunnel, that damn club that started all this shit. I closed my eyes and tried to shake off the unwelcome memories of that day, but all I wanted to do was leave this place. Bryce's words became a breaking point, they helped a cup of weights to turn to another side without him even knowing it. Slowly I rose from the table, ignoring any questions, dismissing them with a clumsy gesture.

This evening was destined to be spent in the Tunnel after everything that happened today. I didn't tell anyone about my spontaneous venture to find some escape in the nightclub full of drug-addicted chicks and yuppies like me. My mind was racing with the idea of doing some coke, all I had to do was find the dealer that Bryce and I always hang out with and get a gram. A very simple plan to forget about all the shit that was going on in my life for a while.

Desperate times call for desperate measures, they say.

As I strolled across the dance floor, I noticed the bar was pretty empty, so I decided to have a drink before finding the dealer, as the glass of whiskey I had at lunch was not enough. The bartender greeted me with a polite smile as he cleaned the bar. 

"Good evening, sir," the man took a shiny glass and set it in front of me. "What would you like to drink?"

"A J&B straight and a Corona." I replied, taking a seat and fumbling for my wallet.

The bartender nodded and went to get my drinks. While I waited, I looked around when I noticed the only person sitting at the bar—it turned out to be a redheaded girl, a very good looking one—I hummed to myself, absolutely sure that such a girl was definitely not alone tonight. 

"Your drinks, sir." The bartender placed an open bottle of Corona next to my glass, now filled with my favorite whiskey.

"Thank you." I handed him a few bills before he could even tell me how much I had to pay. 

The young man babbled something incoherent that I couldn't even make out, but after I gave him a dead stare, he just took the money and finally left me alone. Annoyed, I checked the time on my Rolex before grabbing a bottle of Corona to take a sip, but I was interrupted again. This time not by the bartender.

"Hey," a soft female voice hung over my ear, sending a massive wave of excitement through me. I turned to see that the chick from the other end of the bar was now standing so close to me that I could smell her flowery perfume. "Are you here alone?"

I wish I could say that, but my thoughts of you were always here, with me, but instead of saying that bullshit, I nodded and grinned, checking her body in the most humiliating way, thinking it would scare her away from me, but the gleam in her green eyes only increased after my move.

God, she doesn't know what she's asking for.

"Yeah, you could say that." I smiled again as she sat down next to me. "What about you?"

The girl leaned against the bar, her ginger hair cascading down her elegant shoulders, and for a moment I couldn't take my eyes off her. "I wasn't supposed to be alone tonight, but...you know how it is...most men are total jerks."

I could barely keep myself from bursting out laughing. "Did someone offend you?" She played with the gold bracelet on her wrist and nodded shyly, a move I suddenly found very sexy. "Do you mind if I get you a drink?"

"First, tell me your name," she muttered in a challenging way—a blatant provocation that I ate like a starved man. "Then I'll think about it."

This girl is so sweet, I bet her insides are the same.

At first I wanted to use a fake name, like I always did, but then I just gave her my real name, because in the end it would make no difference. "Patrick....Patrick Bateman," I finally took a sip of Corona and savored the taste. "And you?"

"Nicole," the girl said, still fiddling with her jewelry. "But I used to have a lot of different names."

"I like this one," I chuckled, smiling charmingly. "It suits a girl like you."

"A girl like me?"

"A beautiful girl...very beautiful I must say." My voice was deep and soft like silk, I noticed the way she straightened her shoulders, slowly but gradually relaxing. 

"You really think so?" She asked me, her eyes roaming over my mischievous face, then down to my lips.

Instead of answering, I just smiled in the most enchanting way possible before calling for the bartender to order her a drink. Nicole and I talked for a while—she told me she was from Canada and didn't really have any friends in New York—it was strangely satisfying but I tried to be sympathetic and supportive even though my mind was so far away from here. The ginger girl didn't even notice how she finished one cocktail and then another, while I didn't even touch my whiskey, just idly sipped my bottle of Corona because for some reason I wanted to be as sober as possible.

As the club was getting more and more empty, Nicole was ready to give me a blowjob right at the bar, but I convinced her to go to my place and to be honest, I didn't expect it to be that easy since I hadn't really planned anything like that. I forgot about the drug dealer because now I had to worry about what I was going to say to Evelyn tomorrow because I was definitely not going to spend the night with her. 

"Patrick..." Nicole nestled into my side as we sat in the cab. "Did I tell you I know...F-French?"

I crossed my arms and shook my head in dismay. "No, you didn't," I said, looking down at her red, messy hair. "But it's nothing special...you're from Canada and French is your second official language."

Nicole let out a cartoonish giggle that made me cringe. "Oh...you know it? Damn, you're such a smart man...Mr. Bateman...so fucking smart...most guys I've slept with....didn't know that..." she giggled again and tried to pinch my nose, but I shooed her away. "Can you believe that?"

At a certain point, I was even starting to regret bringing her along, but I hoped I'd be able to shut her mouth with something...sharp and maybe deadly. "It happens, Nicole. Like you said, there were so many bad people in this town. Fortunately, you're lucky to have met someone like me."

The girl hugged me at my words, I could feel her drunk breath next to my lips, but instead of turning away I let her kiss me and it felt better than I expected. Soon the cab pulled up to the American Gardens Building. The walk up to my apartment didn't take much time, I was already thinking about how I was going to dispose of her body after I was done with her. Nicole, completely unaware of my dark thoughts, walked around my apartment barefoot as she kicked off her shoes, complaining about how fucking uncomfortable they were.

"Oh, this place is so fucking...c-cool!" She managed to say, swaying from side to side while moving. "Jesus, is that a telescope? Why do you even need that?" Nicole giggled like a child seeing one for the first time, but who knew, maybe she really was seeing it for the first time. "Do you... spy on people with that... thing?"

"No, Nicole." I replied curtly, standing next to her with my hands hidden in the pockets of my tailored pants. 

"Are you...an astronaut...from NASA?" She asked, then winced when she finally noticed my looming figure. "Are you... going to send me to the moon tonight, handsome?"

"I'll do more than that," I crooned, placing my hand on her waist and pulling her closer. "But I must say one thing you may not like..." a short pause, then a soft rumble left my throat. "I prefer that beautiful mouth of yours to be closed. Do you understand?"

I was expecting anything other than this bitch dropping to her knees and immediately working on unbuckling my belt. The way she was behaving was both amusing and enticing, but what I enjoyed most was that she was so naive and completely dumb.

"Look at you," I murmured before grabbing a handful of her ginger curls that were blocking her vision. "So inpatient, huh?"

By the time she managed to undo my pants, I was already so hard that my dick sprang out of the confines of my clothes and almost slapped her face, but it didn't bother her at all—I could only see an uncontrollable desire in those big green eyes that were now looking at me as if asking for my permission. 

Shameless, pathetic whore.

With a practiced move, I grabbed the back of her head to pull her closer to my crotch, then pressed my engorged dick against her lips, sliding it along them and making her lick off my pre-cum. "Yeah," I croaked, biting my own lips. "I definitely like you more like this...open your mouth, bitch."

Nicole obeyed and the next thing I knew I was thrusting into her mouth, her warmth welcoming me and making me grunt as I bucked my hips into her face, pushing myself further until I heard her gag around my shaft.

"'C'mon, choke on my dick," I snarled, pulling on her hair with brutal force, her nose rubbing against my pubis and I snaked my hand down to rest on her throat, wanting to feel my cock slide along it. "I'm sure no one has ever face fucked you like that...am I right, honey?"

I used that ugly nickname Evelyn always gave me and pulled myself out of her mouth to hear her answer, but she just gulped desperately for air and grabbed my legs for any semblance of support. 

"Oh-Christ...you're...s-so fucking big," she wept, trying to wipe the liquid mixture off her chin, but I wouldn't let her, pulling her head back. "Shit...you're really one of those guys...who likes it rough?"

With a devilish smile, I gave myself several quick strokes before answering. "Oh, darling. You can't even imagine how MUCH I like that kind of thing."

Panting, Nicole was not ready for me to invade her mouth again, but I didn't care, just as I ignored her little protest when I fucked her throat and felt the curve of my dick slide into her wet, tight channel. It was a bliss I had always sought, that fleeting moment of raw control over another human, once you tasted it you couldn't stop yourself.

Perfection.

As time passed, I came at least twice in her abused mouth, each time making sure she swallowed every drop, but then I got bored of fucking her face and left her sprawled out on my expensive living room floor, which I would definitely have to call the maid service to clean. Barely alive, Nicole literally vomited my sperm mixed with her blood, her plump lips swollen and bruised from my beatings—I couldn't stress her pathetic whimpering anymore, so I had to act—but she would last a while longer, I was sure of it.

As I rummaged through my stuff in the bedroom to get a condom, Nicole's pathetic whimpering was like music to my ears, but at some point I considered turning on some real music to muffle the girl's screams, although to my surprise she was not that loud. But just in case, I returned to the living room and stepped over Nicole, who was still lying on the floor, to get to my stereo and put on the latest Talking Heads album, True Stories.

"I didn't ask you what kind of music you like," I suddenly chuckled and moved closer to the sobbing girl to crouch down beside her. "But I doubt it would change anything."

After that, I stood up and decided to strip completely, every move I made calculated and mastered to perfection. One second, two seconds....ten seconds and I was almost naked, when the only thing left on me was my gold Rolex, I heard her weak, shaky voice:

"Whitney Houston," she murmured, barely audible. "I love Whitney Houston."

I stopped in my tracks. "Oh...really? What is your favorite song?"

My lips were curled in a smile that came dangerously close to something insane as I carefully placed all my clothes on one of my black chairs before picking up the girl and moving her to the window—away from my white couch that I didn't want to stain with her fucking blood. She didn't struggle, she didn't struggle at all as I positioned her against the window, pressing her bruised face against the cold glass.

"Take Good Care of My Heart," the redhead added as I began to poke at her soaked pussy, which was not shaved like most of the girls I used to have, and to be honest, I really liked it. "I...I really love the whole album."

"Oh yeah," I chuckled into her ear, fixing her in place as the tip of my cock plunged into her, causing her legs to shake. "This is such a good album..."

With that I bottomed her out completely, my balls slapping against her ass, red from my spanking, I thought I could see the outline of my hand. Her little cunt felt no worse than her mouth, but it was not as tight...after being with you, nothing seemed tight enough to me.

Fuck it!

Cursing under my breath, I sped up to pound into her as hard as I could. Thank God the glass didn't break, but I changed our position anyway. Now Nicole was bent over my black leather chair, her ass wiggling every time I thrust into her and I couldn't stop myself from spanking her, I wanted her to fucking scream and cry out in pain but all I could get from her was nothing that could signal that she was in pain. On the contrary, this girl seemed to enjoy it so much, as her hips moved in rhythm with mine, she bucked in my direction to meet my movements.

"Shit, you fuck like a whore," I blurted out, grabbing her hair in a self-made ponytail. "Is that why you came to America? To be a fucktoy for men like me?"

"Mmm...f-fuck me...please...fuck me!" Nicole didn't seem to hear me, I had to squeeze her throat to shut her up. "Ye-yes...fucking...c-choke me...please!"

Stupid bitch.

In one swift motion, I pulled out only to slam into her unprepared asshole, making her scream in pain and fuck, she sounded amazing. Quickly wiping the sweat from my forehead, I pushed her down on my cock, noticing the crimson drops of her blood on my dick, which only spurred me to move faster and more ferociously. This bitch didn't see it coming, but she was still pretty obedient, which started to seem pretty weird to me, because usually by this time women start to panic, fight and try to escape, but this fucking hoe didn't even say a word about the way I was treating her.

And that started to disappoint me.

When I thought I was not going to climax, I closed my eyes and let my imagination take control of my brain. Huffing, I rammed into Nicole harder, fantasizing about you—how we could go 69, your fingers buried deep inside my asshole - I could fucking feel the sensation of them and it sent an electric shock right through my tensed sac.

"Oh, fuck," I gripped her waist with both hands, fucking her with pure abandon. "You...fucking...arrogant prick...I hate you! I hate you s-so fucking much!"

All my curses fell on deaf ears as Nicole only whimpered in response, gripping the back of the chair and the next second I found her cumming around my cock, her inner walls spasming around me, triggering my own orgasm.

 When I was finally finished with her, I stood over her trembling body as she lay on the floor again. The girl was shaking and giggling, I thought she probably lost her mind already, so instead of using a knife or something, I decided to just strangle her with my bare hands. I wanted to see life slowly leave her body. I fucking craved it.

"Nicole," I shook her before getting on top of her, pressing her down with the weight of my muscular body. "Look at me."

Nicole's bloodshot eyes couldn't focus on mine for some time, she was stunned, dazed, ruined and intoxicated, I had to slap her face several times before she finally locked her hazy gaze with mine. The sweet anticipation of the kill enveloped my mind, my cock grew hard again as I placed both hands around her fragile neck, I began to squeeze it, lightly at first but then more and more forcefully.

"You made a big mistake coming to America, Nicole." I let out a taunt, not really expecting her to hear it or respond to it.

Everything was going according to plan when she suddenly smiled and covered my hands, not to take them off, but to stroke them with a wicked... attraction?

"Please...kill me already...I beg you..." She couldn't stop herself from crying and laughing. 

This was a psychotic episode I had experienced so many times, but I never expected to see it with my own eyes. I froze in shock, losing my grip, and as I did, Nicole pulled my hands back to her throat, shaking me as if to wake me up.

"No, no, no, no! Please...don't stop...please...I want to die! Patrick, please...set me free!" Nicole's voice cracked and I could finally see the sheer desperation in her green eyes, but this kind of desperation was different. 

This wasn't the kind of despair I'd seen before...this was something completely different. It was kind of a turn-off for me. The whole evening was fucking ruined, I couldn't believe it. Shaking my head, I stood up and stepped away from her as if from a fire. 

"Patrick...please!"

"Shut up!" I yelled, looking down at my own hands—they were shaking so badly. "Shut the fuck up!"

In a panic, I rushed to the bathroom to wash my hands for who knows what reason, then grabbed my robe and put it on. I couldn't really explain what was happening to me, but when I got back to the living room, I picked up Nicole's clothes and threw them at her.

"Get dressed," I ordered, and then I went into the bedroom to unlock my safe and take out several bundles of money. What was I doing? Panting, I paused in the doorway to watch her get dressed, then walked over to her and handed her the money. "I want you to take this, go to a hospital and get back to Canada. Do you hear me, Nicole?"

The redhead was silent, just looking at me with her pleading eyes. "But I don't want to go..."

"You have to." I emphasized the words by lowering my voice. "Just do what I say and everything should be... okay."

"But I don't want it to be okay." Nicole tried to touch me, but I pulled away.

"Just go," I repeated my previous words, this time in a more serious voice. "And never come back."

I spent the rest of the night sitting in the shower, literally sitting on the floor, crying. A lot. My eyes were so red and puffy that I didn't know which ice mask would help me look normal tomorrow. The hatred of myself that rose from my chest to my cheeks and made me nauseous—I hated myself so much that I finally admitted that I had changed—you had changed me and there was no going back. The man I was before died, now I was just an empty being, or maybe a new man had been born in my shallow soul?

When I finally managed to drag my ass out of the bathroom, the phone rang and I was sure it was Evelyn trying to fuck my brain for not coming back to her apartment and to be fair, I wasn't ready for anything like that at that moment, but considering how much of a pain in the ass she was, I didn't want any more consequences if I didn't pick up the fucking call.

As I walked into the bedroom, I took the phone from my nightstand and finally answered the call. "Yes?"

"Patrick! Jesus, I thought you weren't going to answer the call!" It was you, damn it, it was you.

My teeth almost creaked with anger and disbelief. "How many times do I have to tell you to fuck off?! Are you stalking me or what? How the fuck did you know I was in my apartment?"

"I... I didn't know... I just decided to try my luck and here we are," you replied, your voice was different than it sounded this morning. "Listen Patrick, I'm in New York right now...maybe we can see each other?"

"See each other?" Those words made me sick. "Do you even hear yourself?"

"I know that...things are pretty tense between us, but...maybe we can at least talk about it?"

"No, we can't," I clutched the phone as tightly as I could. "I don't want to see you and I don't want to hear you. Do you understand? If you ever call me again, I'll fucking find you and KILL YOU!"

With that, I dropped the phone on the floor and screamed so loudly that my throat began to hurt. Right now I was nothing but a living madness, the things that were happening in my mind were like an open chasm to hell—a place I'd be one day, I had no doubt about it.

The few days I spent in a dizzy state, I couldn't really remember what I was doing, but the only thing I was sure of was that I couldn't stop thinking about you. Also, I didn't kill anyone for lack of thrill, there was no more adrenaline or excitement—you changed me and now spilling some blood couldn't help me to relieve myself anymore. I felt like I was being shattered into pieces, decomposed into something primitive, for the first time I saw myself as being even more inhuman than I really was.

Inhuman.

What a perfect word to describe everything about me, but I still couldn't understand where I belonged? If not here, could there be a place for a creature like me?

This question was swirling around in my head like a brain worm; that damn rainy evening when I decided to stalk my dear wife. After my rather long absence, Evelyn was about to go to the police, but then I showed up at the door of her apartment at night, high as hell, but she didn't seem surprised at all. I expected her to be mad and angry, but instead she treated me really nice, I could hear her crying and her desperate touch when she hugged me, weeping and sobbing something about being so scared and worried about me and although I didn't believe a single word that came out of her mouth, something stirred inside of me.

The raindrops were falling on my umbrella like Morse code, hitting the surface with such a precise rhythm that I really thought maybe something or someone was trying to send me a sign. The level of absurdity was over the top, and if I were in a different state mentally and physically, I'd be laughing my ass off at this shit, but today I couldn't do anything funny. I couldn't smile, I couldn't sneer, I was like a ghost, a shadow of the person I was before I met you. So here I was, following Evelyn down the street after the taxi ride until I saw her stop at some hotel—a luxury hotel in Upper Manhattan to be exact— and then, after some time, when I thought nothing interesting would happen, a sleek black Cadillac stopped by the street and I saw Timothy Bryce get out of the car—he was holding a black umbrella just like me. Evelyn was so excited to see him that she didn't even wait for them to go inside the hotel, she kissed him now and then without holding back her emotions. This scene made the stone fall off my shoulders; I was so damn happy that I was right and that this fake marriage was about to collapse, but I still couldn't understand why Evelyn married me at all. To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if one day, when we finally had a serious talk about it, she would confess that she loved both of us—me and Bryce— and suggested that we all live together.

Say hello to an altered version of the American dream family.

The reality was always cruel, and I knew it too well.

A loud clap of thunder echoed through my apartment, waking me up in my living room, drenched in sweat. Breathing heavily, I turned around to register some pornography playing on my TV, my robe was undone, I was completely naked underneath, some remnants of my cum stuck to my stomach.

Shit, I just blacked out jerking off? This porn really sucks.

And this was the 5th or maybe 10th porn tape I had watched, and I only managed to cum once. Cursing and scowling, I fidgeted on my couch to find a remote control. I was disgusted with my current situation, but then I noticed two thin lines of white powder on my glass coffee table and a twisted $100 bill. Now everything started to fall into place.

Fuck, where did I even get this gram?

I rubbed my head, and instead of turning off the porn, I turned it up louder—two perfect bimbos making out, their oiled bodies wrapped around each other like two snakes—my hand instinctively sliding back to my hard cock, throbbing and soaked with my cum.

"Oh-fuck..." I murmured through clenched teeth as I pumped myself, watching the girls play with their large breasts. "Yeah...suck her tits...suck them like a fucking pacifier..."

The louder their moaning got, the more excited I got, and just when I thought I was about to climax again, I heard... a fucking phone ringing loudly—it hurt my hearing. Confused, I stopped doing anything, ignoring the fact that one slut was now riding on the face of another. There was only one thing I could think about right now— had I turned off my phone or not? Because I definitely remembered pulling the fucking cords out of it, but that thing kept ringing? 

Slowly I got up on my stiff legs and walked to the kitchen island to grab the phone, the only light coming from my playing TV and I bumped into something pretty hard before the fucking receiver was in my hand.

"Patrick Bateman's apartment..." I almost whispered, pressing the receiver harder against my head.

"...Pat..." the echo of a familiar voice wailed from the other end of the line, but I still couldn't make out who it was. "...need... -h-help!"

"Who...am I talking to?"

"Patrick, please, help me," your voice sounded so clear now that it echoed inside my skull, drowning out all the sounds of the bad weather outside. "I'm...I'm at Paul Allen's...I need help...please...I think I'm gonna die..."

Was this some kind of prank? 

I turned around and scanned my apartment as if someone was watching me right now. I felt insane and cornered, if I was really losing my mind the best option now would be to take more coke and trigger an overdose and then...

"Can you hear me? Please, come here, I'll... give you the address..." and then I heard loud interference and noise, so I had to pull the phone away for a second. "Patrick? Please...talk to me!"

"What...what happened?" I asked, still not believing what I was doing. "Are you in pain?"

"No...yes....Patrick...listen...you should write down the address..."

Without thinking, I grabbed the Vogue magazine lying next to the phone and a pencil, and the next second I was writing down the address where Paul Allen was supposed to live. 

"Hold on! I'll be right there!" I suddenly said into the phone, but all I could hear was the agonizing beep. "Hey...I'll be there...do you hear me? I'LL BE THERE!"

Fuck!

I dropped the phone and took several deep breaths before I finally came to my senses, or so I thought. Then I rushed to the bathroom to clean up and put something on without worrying too much. So I grabbed the first suit out of my closet, fixed my hair and left my apartment to take a cab. All the way to Paul's, I was holding a crumpled page of Vogue that I had to rip out. At first I didn't even notice that I wasn't surprised when the cabbie just nodded and we drove off, so this address was real? It meant you really called me? And what about all the previous calls?

Perplexed, I leaned against the cool glass of the car window and watched the nighttime cityscape blur into something unrecognizable, almost falling asleep, but the driver turned on the radio with some cheesy pop songs that kept me awake, as I was too irritated to ignore how much I disliked such music. When the car stopped in front of a towering building like the one I lived in, I paid the driver twice what I was supposed to and got out of the cab. There were no pedestrians and for a moment I really thought that maybe I was still asleep and had to pinch myself to wake up in my living room?

As I entered the building I saw a table where the concierge should be sitting, but there was no one, so I casually opened the journal to find the number of Allen's apartment—I felt a creeping shock when I actually found his name in the journal.

Okay… this feels…too real.

Feeling a strange thrill of the rush, I closed the journal and sauntered quickly across the large lobby to the elevators. Paul's apartment was on the 15th floor, so when the door opened on the floor I needed, I stepped out of the elevator with a heavy weight in my chest. Every step I took resonated with the fast beating of my heart, and when I reached my destination, I didn't know what to do - whether to ring the bell or knock or…

Shaking myself off, I first rang the doorbell—nothing. Then I knocked several times, then again, still no answer. Finally, I put my ear to the door to listen, but I couldn't hear a single sound. Anger overcame me, so I kicked the door and turned to leave. How stupid was I? Maybe mixing my pills and coke wasn't the best idea, but this...

When I got back to the lobby, an old man, who must have been a missing concierge, greeted me with a fake polite smile. "Greetings, sir. How can I help you?"

Annoyed as hell, I stopped next to his small table, adjusted my leather gloves, and pointed to his journal. "I was looking for Paul Allen's apartment, he's my friend and I wanted to see him, but it seems...he's out tonight."

"Oh, Mr. Allen left on a business trip this morning." The concierge said casually, but then he noticed how pale I'd become. "Sir, is something wrong?"

"Did you say he left this morning?" I asked again, feeling a few beads of sweat on my tense forehead.

"Yes, sir," the old man opened the journal and began to leaf through it. "I can even tell you the exact time he left..."

"No need. Thank you." Was all I said before I turned on my heels and headed for the exit.

Outside I noticed that the taxi that had brought me here was still standing by the side of the road. It was strange but I didn't even think about it. I got in and asked the driver to take me back to my place, but first I asked him to give me a moment to sit and think. With shaking hands I picked up the crumpled piece of paper with the address on it, I traced my handwriting before throwing it out the window, my temples pounding so hard I thought my head would explode. Exhausted both mentally and physically, I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples, not noticing that the concierge I was talking to literally ran out of the building, looking around, seeking someone.

"Let's go." I ordered the cab driver with my eyes still closed. "And can you please turn off the music...my head is killing me."

The taxi drove off and I didn't see or hear the old man following the car. "Sir, wait! I made a mistake about Mr. Allen-"

Today, after I refused to go shopping with Evelyn and help her choose a fucking curtain for her living room, she finally told me that she never loved me, that she wanted a divorce and nothing else from me. The relief I felt was comparable to a good orgasm, to say the least, Evelyn was shocked at my reaction—did she really expect me to beg for forgiveness? But the single mention of Bryce made everything come to its place, I wasn't angry, no, I just couldn't solve this fucking puzzle, what was all this for? If she really liked Bryce, why couldn't she just tell me and go for him? How many times had I told her that? A hundred? A thousand? Millions? Luckily, I wasn't inclined to leave my stuff in her apartment, so I finished my busing with 'moving out' pretty quickly and smoothly, because something glorious and important was waiting for me. The last moment of my drama.

I imagine that maybe someday there will be a show on Broadway based on my life—a great example of a life that no one should have lived—I smiled at the thought, as I always liked to romanticize things in the most clichéd and poetic way. After all, Bryce was right, I was mental, and no matter how hard I tried to run away from the dark version of myself, it would catch up with me one day. And that day seemed to have finally come.

As I walked down Wall Street, wearing my favorite headphones and listening to Huey Lewis and the News, I stumbled by the phone booth—a random idea plagued my mind before I could really think about it. Opening my briefcase, I found my notebook, and soon I was dialing your office number, hoping you wouldn't answer. But my hopes were never to be fulfilled. 

To my surprise, I heard a male voice coming from the phone and all the words stuck in my throat like a lump. "Uh...hi...can I talk to..."

"Sorry sir, I can't hear you properly...it might be the bad connection," the voice replied and it made me really nervous. "I'm sorry, but if you want to talk to my boss, they are out of the office right now."

Out of the office…shit.

"Who am I talking to?" I asked, almost fainting.

"Vinc..." an unpleasant static noise came over my brain and I held my eyes closed for a second from the stabbing pain in my temples. "My name is Vincent...I'm .... assistant."

"Listen, Vincent..." I started to speak, not even knowing that he could hear my words. "I want you to tell your boss that...Patrick Bateman called and...this would be my LAST call," I laughed hysterically, leaning against the phone booth door. "I'm going to, uh... disappear..."

A short pause seemed like an eternity.

"You mean you are leaving New York City, sir?" Vincent's question surprised me.

My lips twitched in a wicked smile. "No...I mean...yes..."

"Are you going somewhere in particular, Mr. Bateman?" The man asked me and I stopped breathing for a second.

"I'm going...to a place where no one will ever...find me..."

And with that I hung up the phone. There was already a line of people by the phone booth, and as I walked away, they looked at me with the most disdainful look I could ever dream of mastering. Unfortunately, I wouldn't need it anymore.

Soon the white walls of my apartment would be the only witness to my last confession. My apartment smelled so fresh and good, the maid had just finished cleaning, and I was glad that if the police found my body, they would see that wealth and money were not a panacea for a happy life, although I had believed in it fervently for almost all these years. With deliberate steps, I walked into my bathroom, grabbed a small bottle of medicine prescribed by my psychiatrist, and popped a handful of pills at once. Then I looked at my reflection in the mirror and somehow realized that the mask I had worn for most of my adult life was about to slip. Right now, at this very moment, I was about to die. An abnormal dizziness washed over me, I could barely stand on my feet when I suddenly saw your silhouette behind me in the mirror. I gulped and turned around to see nothing but the empty doorway, my hands shaking so badly that I failed to put the bottle back in its place, dropping it on the floor and scattering pills all over the bathroom.

Holy shit.

A strong gag reflex suddenly took over me and I managed to get to the toilet faster than I could throw up—I threw up all the pills—Jesus Christ, I was so weak I couldn't even finish this... I was so pathetic. In the end, I finally accepted that as the darkness took me in its cold embrace.

Knock…knock…

What is this? Am I still alive?

I kept questioning myself because I didn't feel anything, no pain, no remorse, nothing. But if I were dead, I wouldn't hear that strange sound, would I? I opened my wet eyes and looked up at the white ceiling—I was still in my bathroom— lying on my back, covered in my own vomit, saliva and bile. My mouth smelled like a rotten rat and I knew what I was talking about. The annoying knocking kept coming from my front door, and although I didn't want to get up, I felt that if I didn't, this fucking knocking would never stop.

With careful, unhurried movements, I crawled to the sink and, leaning on the bathroom counter, managed to stand up and quickly brush my teeth, avoiding looking at my reflection because I was sure I looked like shit. After that, I took off my stained clothes and put on a new robe that I had bought myself for no reason a few days ago. 

As I approached the front door, the knocking stopped and I thought it was just another hallucination, but I decided to open the door anyway and to my surprise I saw my concierge who looked very worried and even scared.

"Mr. Bateman, thank God you're all right!" The man blurted out, holding his concierge hat in his hands.

"Of course I'm okay," I replied nonchalantly. "What happened? Or did you just come to check on me?"

"Well," the concierge looked away before rubbing his gray mustache. "Someone was looking for you..."

My eyebrows furrowed, and I peered out into the long corridor. "Who was it? Did they give a name? Was it a policeman or something?" 

"No, sir." The old man gave me an awkward smile that made me even more angry. "They were so desperate...they were literally storming around the lobby...constantly saying things about you not answering calls and not opening the door...I told them maybe you just left..."

The rest of what he said fell on deaf ears, because now I was absolutely sure who was looking for me. "What time is it now?"

"11 a.m., sir."

"Today is Friday, right?" I asked, my head spinning. "It should be Friday."

The concierge paused. "It's Sunday, sir."

Sunday?

A sharp pang of nausea crept into my stomach, nearly breaking me in half, but I managed to grab hold of the doorjamb for support. "Where is this person?"

"Mr. Bateman, I had to call the police because they were being...kind of aggressive," the concierge explained, stepping back a bit. "The cops arrived pretty quickly...they found out this person had drugs, sir."

I stagger to the side as if from the hard blow. "And what happened next...did they arrest them?"

"I...I guess so?"

I let out a tired sigh, rolling my eyes and trying to keep it together - this poor guy was not guilty, it was just an accident, but how did you get caught with drugs? It was so fucking illogical to me.

My voice was unnaturally soft as I tried my fucking best not to snap at the man across from me. "Did the cops really take them away? Did you see that with your own eyes?" The concierge just nodded, and I could tell by his nervousness that he felt it was his fault at some level. "All right, thank you for your information, remind me to tip you next month." And with that, I closed the front door, leaving the man in a completely bewildered state.

Shit...this whole situation seemed like a fucking joke, but I had to think fast—I needed a plan how to solve this bullshit and maybe I could get some answers if I could help you. I took a moment to collect myself and told myself that one way or another I had to go there...to rescue you.

I'll do it even if I have to burn down this police station.

In record time, my impeccable appearance was ready, and now I confidently walked down the long, dimly lit corridor of the police station that was closest to where I lived—I hoped you were in that station, but if not, I would visit all of them until I found you.

Finally, I reached the reception area, where a pretty policewoman greeted me with a friendly smile. "Good afternoon, sir. What can I do for you?"

"I'm looking for..." I opened my briefcase and showed her my notebook with your full name written in it. "Are they here, in this department? I believe they were arrested today."

The officer smiled at me before she turned around and started to rummage through some papers, folds, notes... With each passing moment I was getting more and more impatient, but I had to play it cool.

"I think I found the person you were looking for," the woman said, placing several documents on the reception desk, implying that I should take a look at them. "They were delivered here an hour ago."

"Can I see them?" I asked, putting on my casual, seductive smile.

“And what is your relationship to the suspect?” 

Damn, not this fucking question.

I was a little stunned at first, but then I quickly tugged at my red tie and tilted my head in a condescending way. "I'm their lawyer, and I need to see them as soon as possible."

I noticed that her expression suddenly changed, her eyes gliding over my massive form—she was obviously trying to access my appearance and compare it to the look of a successful lawyer living in New York City—when I gave her an intense look and then winked, she visibly blushed.

After a small cough, she took the documents and only then dared to look at me again. "The suspect is now in interrogation room number one. Don't get lost."

"Thanks." I grinned broadly and, after closing my briefcase, left the reception.

It didn't take me long to find the interrogation room I needed. As I stopped right next to the door, I checked myself in the reflection of the nearby window—I looked perfect, not as perfect as I used to be, but not too horrible either.

A light knock on the door before I opened it. "Good afternoon, sorry for the long wait. How is my client? I hope you haven't done anything inappropriate in my absence?"

The moment our eyes met, I could see a mixture of shock, disbelief, and something beyond human understanding.

"And who the hell is that?" One of the officers—a rather fat guy with a messy beard—asked his partner, then looked at you. "You said you were from Chicago and your lawyer had to catch a flight here."

"Yes, that's exactly what I said. Why are you telling me my own words?" You crossed your arms and gave me a scorching gaze, I seized the moment of your confusion to nestle into the empty chair next to you. "Probably...my lawyer has handed this case over to his colleague in New York, so he doesn't have to come here."

Both policemen looked at us as if we were idiots—which we definitely were—but I hoped this affair would work out.

"But you asked to be allowed to make a phone call... the whole damn time," another policeman replied, pointing his finger at you and then at me. "I'm going to send you both to jail if you don't tell me what-"

"Jesus Christ, I told you several times...I was at a party...I took someone's coat by mistake and there was...this fucking bag of cocaine, but it's not mine! You can check the fingerprints and you won't find mine on this fucking bag! HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU?"

"My client is right. Before we get the results of the fingerprint analysis, the presumption of innocence should not be forgotten." I started in the most serious tone I could manage. "Remember that."

Both officers started arguing with each other almost immediately, using many different insults that I would definitely have to remember so that I could present them to Tim— he would love to hear them. I was about to say something clever when the door suddenly opened and a woman with dark hair stepped into the room.

"What the hell is going on?" The woman asked her colleagues, looking disappointed and quite angry. "Everyone can hear you outside."

"Oh, Miss Moore," one of the officers murmured like a guilty child. "Well, we..."

"Detective Moore to you, Rogers," she replied, her posture radiating confidence. You and I both stared at her for a while, I noticed her tanned skin and thick curly hair, she was definitely Hispanic, the accent was also quite noticeable. "Can I confide in you at least once?" Officer Rogers looked at his partner, neither of them said a word, and that made the detective even more annoyed. "We'll talk about it later, now go."

The cops didn't dare protest, and soon they left. Now it was just you, me and Detective Moore in the interrogation room. The tension was palpable in the air, my hands were sweaty and shaking, I had to brush them off my open coat, but before I could, you caught one of them and squeezed it barely sensibly—I gasped, almost choking on my saliva.

After a brief examination of the documents, the woman across from us raised her brown eyes and smiled, not too friendly, but not too menacing either. "So, my name is Andrea Moore," she turned to look at you, holding a piece of paper in her hand. "I already know your name," her piercing gaze finally stopped on me. "May I have your documents, sir?"

Swallowing hard, I unlocked my briefcase to hand her my ID. "Yeah, sure."

"Mr. Bateman...have we met before?"

"No...I don't think so."

Andrea hummed to herself. "Well, I hope you brought your law license with you?" 

Your grip on my palm tightened, I almost let out a hysterical squeal. "I... I must have left it in my office."

"Listen," you suddenly spoke up, gesticulating as if you were at a school presentation. "I need to call my assistant, Vincent Eisenhower...he will help sort things out-"

"Wait a minute...did you say Vincent Eisenhower?" Andrea suddenly stopped you, obviously surprised.

"Uh, yeah, he's my assistant at the company I work-" 

"...in Chicago?" 

"Yes..." you replied in confusion. "Is there something wrong with that?"

The detective didn't answer, and it made me nervous as hell, but you holding my hand in a gentle manner was strangely comforting, even though I despised such displays of affection.

Looking puzzled, Andrea finally took the pen and a clean piece of paper. "Can you give me the number...I'll call Mr. Eisenhower and ask him for...a real lawyer. Mr. Bateman, I hope you understand the consequences of your actions-"

"Leave him alone, it's not his fault," you cut Andrea off before I could say anything in my defense. "He didn't know what he was doing coming here...please...he hasn't done anything bad...he's just going through a hard time in his life and..."

"Enough," the detective raised her hand in a halting gesture. "I hope I can reach out to Mr. Eisenhower....You two better pray for that."

Andrea left as abruptly as she had come. We were finally alone. Both confused, frightened, and lost.

"Why did you even come here?" You asked, not looking at me, but not parting our hands. "How stupid of you to come here and act like you were my lawyer."

"I HAD NO CHOICE!" I almost screamed, turning in my seat to cut the mere distance between us. "Not after you terrorized me with those damn phone calls..."

As I said that, time stood still for us and I could see the inner conflict in your deep, mesmerizing eyes—you were broken and lost just like me—I looked down at our intertwined hands, waiting for your answer.

"What calls, Patrick? What are you talking about?" 

"You know WHAT I'm talking about...don't try to fuck with my brain," I husked, inches from your lips. "You think this is funny, huh?" 

"And you think it's funny to call my office and tell my assistant about your suicidal intentions?" Your warm breath wafted pleasantly around my face as you moved closer. "You think it's funny to appear and disappear in my life like I'm a toy you can play with whenever you feel bored?"

At first I didn't answer. Instead, I just kept eye contact with you, then I lowered my eyes to our hands again—my palm was bigger than yours, this little detail always made my heart flutter. Did I ever think that such a small thing would stir such strong emotions in me? Probably not.

Definitely not.

"By the way, did you manage to find out anything about that machine you told me about?" I questioned abruptly, putting my arm around your shoulders. 

You frowned and chuckled in disbelief. Well, at least the tension was relieved.

"What machine?" You fidgeted in your seat as I pulled you closer. "Hey, don't change the subject..."

"A memory reboot machine," I crooned, leaning forward so our noses rubbed against each other. "If you're here... that means you probably didn't find it."

The urge to indulge in this moment, to follow the passionate momentum and just kiss these lips I'd been thinking about all along, was unbearable, but I didn't want to be the first to fall apart and drop my defenses.

"Maybe I never needed this machine," you replied, pressing your forehead against mine for a brief moment. "Because I never wanted to forget...you?"

Was it a question or a statement—we never knew as we both moved towards each other, my burning lips pressed against your soft ones as we shared the most desirable kiss I could ever imagine. Gasping into my mouth, you let go of my hand only to wrap both of them around my neck as you responded with no less favor than mine. It was so hot, so desperate, so tragic. And it was all mine— your pain, your anger, your hatred.

Because you were my salvation.

With precise deftness, I carefully tilted your head back a little to deepen the kiss, my arms eagerly but not persistently roving around your back, knowing every little detail of your body, every dent and bump. As much as I wanted to tell you how fucking perfect you were for me, I didn't want this kiss to end, but as if you could read my mind, you suddenly pulled me away a little too abruptly and roughly.

"God, I hate you..." you wept, covering your face so I couldn't see your tears. "I really... I really thought you were going to do something bad... I was afraid it was too late..."

I was at a loss, I didn't know how to react or what to say—everything about you confused me, made my brain overload with different thoughts about what you said and why—now was no exception.

"But I'm here now...in one piece," I decided not to touch you, my hand resting on the back of your chair, ready to hug you at any moment if it was needed. "You should understand that...if I really wanted to do this, no one would be able to stop me..." I whisper above your ear and place my hand on the back of your head, gently stroking your hair as you rest your head on the table. "Even you."

I knew that this confession would mean nothing, just like all my previous ones, but as soon as I said it, you raised your tear-stained eyes and whimpered. "Don't say that...don't fucking say that! You can be a total asshole, but that doesn't mean you deserve to die..."

"Darling," I gently brushed your stray locks from your face, trying to distract you and keep you from saying words that would only make things worse. "You know so little about me...but I don't want you to say something you'll regret..."

"I've already said too many things that I now regret," you replied, turning away from me. "Have you ever thought about your family and how they would react if something bad happened to you? Have you thought about Evelyn?"

My eyebrows knitted together, the words you said pierced my heart like sharp daggers, but I didn't want you to stop, because you were right, I was always selfish, but you knew so little about my family, who would surely be sad about the loss, but they would recover pretty quickly, since they still had Sean. And Evelyn? I would laugh if things were not so sad.

Trembling and sobbing, you still sat with your back to my face. "I'm not going to ask you for anything except to promise me that you'll never even think about...hurting yourself."

Oh, dear.

With a soft clink of my chair, I stood up and placed both of my hands on your trembling shoulders. "I promise... if you stay with me, I'll never look back... on my previous life." I felt your body tense under my touch. "We can't reboot the memory, but we can...reboot our lives?"

This was it—the moment I had fantasized about so many times, considering different outcomes, scenarios—I was waiting for your answer when the door creaked and Detective Moore appeared in my vision. She was much more cheerful than before, which worried me a bit.

"So," she took a seat, opened a folder with documents and wrote something on it. "I spoke to Vince, and luckily for you, he has already contacted your lawyer-"

"Vince?" You asked in shock, but at least you stopped crying.

Andrea stuttered and cleared her throat. "I mean..." she paused and twirled the pen in her hand. "It happened that Vincent and I used to know each other..."

What?

We were both speechless, how the hell could such a coincidence have happened? 

"Well... I really didn't see it coming..." You murmured, brushing the remnants of tears from your face.

"Neither did I," the detective chuckled curtly before resuming her work on some papers. "Listen, we should wait for the results of the fingerprint analysis, and while we wait, you are forbidden to leave the city. Please put your sign here."

"What is this?"

"Your ticket to freedom," she explained. "A street bail."

I saw you hesitate, so I gave you a reassuring squeeze on the shoulder and you looked at me, I simply nodded, and you placed the sign. 

"And how long have you known Vincent?" You asked after you handed the document back to Andrea. "Just asking."

"Since childhood, I think."

"Oh... that's... a lot."

"Vince has always been known for being a good boy..." the woman paused, coughing awkwardly. "Uh, you can talk to him about... that if you're interested." Andrea closed the folder and shifted her gaze to me. "And you, I highly recommend that you never do anything like this again."

"So you're not going to put me in a cell?" I replied in a slightly teasing manner.

"No...not this time. But the officer who allowed you to come here will be severely punished, maybe even fired," Andrea explained, getting up from her chair. "It's her first day at the police station, but she let a man go through without even checking his papers. Such violations are very serious."

And although I didn't feel sad for this woman I would probably never see again, I looked at you and your big doe eyes. "Maybe there's a way not to fire her? I assured her that I was a lawyer and...I could pay a fine if I had to."

Detective Moore said nothing, she just grinned and beckoned us to follow her.

An hour later we finally left the police station. For some time we walked in complete silence, the surrounding commotion drawing out my shallow breathing, my mind overclocked with the search for topics to talk about after all the shit that had happened.

"So... where did you stay?" I asked casually, looking at you from above, your eyelashes shimmering in the sunlight. "In the Plaza?"

"No," you replied almost immediately. "Not the Plaza this time...it was all booked up."

"You were really in New York... for the whole time?"

"Depends on what time you mean exactly," your slight smile made me almost stumble, but I pretended to see someone familiar. "Maybe I haven't left New York at all?"

No, that can't be.

"You know, since you can't leave the city... maybe we should spend some time together and... you didn't answer my question."

My offer made you stall, and I followed suit. Passers-by walked past us, not paying attention even though we were standing in the middle of the street.

"Was it really a question?"

"And what do you think it was?"

"A plea?" You smiled and stepped closer to me until there was no space between us. "If you weren't so stubborn...everything could be so much easier."

"And YOU tell me that?" I let myself pull you closer to me. "I have an idea...fuck the place where you stopped! We should go to Newport."

"Newport? Would it count that I left New York?" you asked me a little shyly. "Do you have a house there or...?"

"My family has a house there and since they are out of town we can use it to kill time...have you ever been to Newport?" My hands rested possessively on your waist and before I knew it, I added. "Me and Evelyn are getting divorced..."

"No, I haven't," you replied, finally resting your hands on my shoulders. "But I really want to...since I've heard a lot of good things about this place..." then you suddenly froze. "What... What did you say? Are you kidding me? God, I can't believe this...I..."

You continued to bubble something that made me smile in amusement and I couldn't help but hold you tightly in my arms— the place you always belonged to, though I understood it too late. The fresh breeze of change swirled around us, playing with our hair and clothes. Yesterday I didn't know if I would make it to tomorrow, but today I was sure that there would be so many tomorrows because I wasn't alone anymore.

With you, for you, in your name—I was still alive and finally free.

P.S. Thank you for reading until the end! I don’t have a taglist. You can follow my writing community to know when I update!💞

[dindjarindiaries]

Hauntings

character: Hunter (The Bad Batch)

prompts: "How is it you always know what I need, huh?" / "No one’s ever going to hurt you again. I promise you that on everything I believe in." / "Don’t go. Stay."

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

You woke to the sound of shuffling footsteps through the corridor beyond your bedroom door. Blinking a few times into the darkness, your tired mind drew a quick conclusion about who would possibly be up in the middle of night—and who would have to pass your door on the way out.

When the name came to mind, your chest tightened with worry and sympathy so prominent that you lost your breath for a moment. All sense of exhaustion dissipated as you instead pulled on warmer clothes and slipped on your boots.

You slipped out as quietly as you could, though you knew it wouldn't matter. The only person who would possibly wake up at the sound of your escape was the same person you were currently pursuing.

The exterior door opened, and you resisted the urge to shiver when the island breeze blew upon you with no sun to warm you. You wrapped your arms around yourself and let out a soft exhale as you saw him exactly where you thought he'd be.

Hunter was standing by the stone railing of the balcony adorned with flowers. He made no move for the wooden gate that would take him to the rest of Pabu, and so you didn't bother to look away from him.

It was almost odd to see him in the relaxed clothing the villagers had supplied him with, a loose-fitting tunic and pair of trousers, but it also fit him well at the same time. You were also grateful that it gave the healing wounds beneath his clothes the proper space to breathe.

And your eyes the proper space to wander.

There was no doubt that Hunter already knew you were here, so you didn't hesitate in making your approach. You relaxed your arms and set a hand on his shoulder once you reached his side. You looked up at him as he looked down at you.

"Hey." You gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It's a bit late for exploring out here, don't you think?"

Hunter huffed, though his brow furrowed as he leaned his elbows against the railing. He let out a heavier breath and blinked a few times. "Sorry if I woke you." You frowned when his expression grew weary in guilt. "I just... needed some air."

You let your hand slide from his shoulder to his back. "Maybe you're starting to give me your enhanced senses by association."

That got another amused sound out of Hunter. Still, he remained tense, his gaze set on the homes and shores below.

"And it's okay. I'd actually prefer if you did wake me up at times like these." You fought the urge to hesitate; Hunter was clearly hurting, and you were done hiding from him. "I don't want you to be alone. Especially not after what happened there."

Your stare dropped to his left side. Because of his tunic's loose fabric, you could just barely catch sight of the gauze that was still wrapped around his middle, protecting the bacta that continued to heal a set of badly broken ribs.

Injuries that hadn't been treated, much less healed, when he'd been tortured.

You resisted the urge to pull the hand you still had on Hunter's back into a fist. The wave of rage these memories and this knowledge brought you was so powerful that you felt as if you could run headfirst into battle.

Hunter's head turned slightly towards you. His dark gaze still managed to glitter in the night as it caught your own. "How is it you always know what I need, huh?" He stood up to his full height once again and ran a hand over his hair. "I didn't even realize it myself."

Your brow furrowed. Hunter's hand took yours off his back, and he watched as his fingers slowly entwined with your own. Suddenly, the warmth of the Pabu sun that you had been missing burst within your chest.

The action said everything he couldn't. So did the trembling you felt in his grasp.

"What's wrong?" You drew yourself closer to him before you could stop it. You wanted to see his eyes up close, as if the answer to your newfound worry would be spelled out for you there. "Did something happen?"

Hunter's jaw tightened, and he looked out at the distance against. Your stare continued to study the side of his face, particularly the muscle that continued to flex in his jaw as he composed a response.

"Just hauntings." Hunter's characteristically low voice was somehow even lower when he finally responded. He gave his head an aimless shake. "Ghosts of things that already happened." His free hand absentmindedly drifted by his bandaged ribs.

You tightened your grasp on his hand. "No one’s ever going to hurt you again." Hunter turned to face you again, and you offered him a reassuring nod. "I promise you that on everything I believe in."

You leaned close enough to rest your head against his arm as you looked out at the quiet Pabu night. Your lips curled up in a meaningful smile, your anger shifting into relief.

"We're safe here."

Hunter began to return your smile. "I know." He sighed. "And I'm no stranger to getting hurt. It's just..."

He trailed off, a knit forming in his brow as he searched for the right words. You shook your head at him.

"But this was different, Hunter." You lifted your free hand to his cheek, relieved when he visibly relaxed at your touch. "Your senses were targeted. It was... so malicious."

Even just remembering what he and the others had detailed to you made you breathless with fury with despair. You had to thank the stars that you were distracted from it in the moment by helping Echo at that base.

Hunter's eyelids began to flutter closed in a palpable exhaustion, one that was even more evident when he leaned into you, the warmth of his forehead meeting yours. You tightened your lips and ran your thumb over the skin underneath his eye in soothing, repetitive circles.

He really had been through way too much over the last few months; if you were being honest, over the course of his entire life. All the clones had, though as the leader of an outcast group, Hunter always shouldered a burden you couldn't imagine carrying, especially after losing Crosshair and Omega temporarily—and Tech permanently.

It was all too much, and he just needed to let himself rest.

You let out a soft exhale and gently patted his cheek. "You need to go back to bed. I can literally feel your exhaustion."

Hunter's eyes reopened, and all he did was nod before you began to guide him back towards his room. If you had left him on his own, he would have continued to stay out there all night, and that was something you simply refused to allow. Even if he still wasn't ready to share a bed, you certainly preferred that he remained in his own rather than standing outside alone.

But when you arrived at Hunter's door and prepared to drop his hand to go towards your own, he only held on tighter. He even gave it a little tug that urged you closer to him.

"Don’t go." Hunter's voice was nearly timid as he pleaded with you, his dark eyes wider than usual. "Stay."

You didn't need convincing. You nodded and continued to hold on to him as he took you through the threshold of his room.

You had always imagined your first night spent together in each other's arms to be different than this, but you were more than willing to make an exception. This is how he needed you, and you were going to be there for him, acting as his anchor to reality when the hauntings returned.

You had indeed won yourselves a life of external peace, but it was still a long road to earning that peace internally, and you weren't letting Hunter go on that journey alone.