#i almost cried at the end of this I SWEAR

[sinstear]

‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎SECRETS WILL KILL YOU, KEEP IT HUSH.

synopsis: what was once the best times of your lives, what happens when the one you loved more than live itself, your best friend; vanishes without a trace and it’s up to you and your friends to figure out what happened? can you save her in time? tags: major angst, talks of character death, reader being oblivious, cursing, nervous and depressed reader, talks of guns, an appearance from said gun near the end, sprinkles of fluff. happy ending, somewhat. there’s probably a bunch of other stuff i’m missing, but i need this out my face already. wc: 22k .... uhm, look away. an: i’m not sure how i feel about this, but i’ve been reading too many psychological books over this past month; send help asap, and had the idea to write a little something of my own, i say little like this isn’t sitting at a fat 20k+ words .. don’t judge me please or i’ll cry. i cried too much writing this because i hated it for so long LMAO. thank you @vifilms for proofreading and supporting this crazy idea, and helping me through it. i love you. anyway, enjoy <3

Thursday, 28th April 2015.

“you know you could just tell your date you came down with a cold, s’not like she would notice, girls too obsessed with herself notice anything,” Abby suggested, her round dark green glasses resting on the bridge of her nose. 

“I can’t just lie,” You scoffed, looking up from your phone, and noticing Abby was clad in one of your sweaters, cross-legged and reading yet another recommended book. “Besides, you know me and dates never last, remember the last one? 20 minutes into getting to know her,”

“She accidentally mentioned her girlfriend, yes, I will never let you live it down.” Abby giggled from beside you and shrugged. “What’s the worst that could happen this time? She tells you about the 4 wives she has at home?”

“Funny,” You grumbled and slapped her shoulder playfully. Abby laughed and you felt your heart flutter. You liked it when she laughed, it felt refreshing and beautiful. “If that happens, I hope you’ll be there to rescue me when I call you stressed out.”

Holding her hand over her heart, the blonde nodded with a subtle smirk on her lips. “I solemnly swear I will always rescue you from your failed dates.” 

“Hey, Honey.” 

Jerry. Sweet and kind Jerry Anderson; He still looks young, even though the stubble on his face is more grey than before, the dark bags under his eyes darker, but you can tell the glint is slowly burning out in his eyes. He used to have a spark to him, but now it’s dim, almost vanishing right before you. “Hey, Mr Anderson.” You coughed on smoke and cleared your throat.

“C’mon kid, I’ve known you since you were in diapers, and throwing eggs at the neighbor’s house, you can call me Jerry.” He laughed, but the smile on his lips didn’t reach his eyes. Not like it used to be.

Stubbing out your cigarette on the sidewalk, you chuckled nervously and wiped your hands nervously on your jeans. “Yeah, no right, sorry, Jerry, habit, you know” you trailed off, looking at him silently, trying to work him out. “Any news?”

“No, don’t think there will be any for a while.”

Abby, your best friend, had made a joke once in her backyard that if you weren’t both in a serious relationship before you turned 18, you would both date, settle down, and get married. It was a promise you promised to keep, if anything, you would be right outside her door, asking her to be your girlfriend the second you turned 18. 

Her 26th birthday is next week.

Abby disappeared just weeks before her 18th, she left your house happy and smiley, secretly hoping you would still be single in the next two weeks. She loved you. Jerry knew how much she adored and loved you. Hearing about the dates you would set yourself up on, broke her heart but you were her best friend, so she should be happy for you right? Never ruin a best friend’s dream and wish, she told herself each time she left you and went home to cry into her pillow while her dad, god bless his soul, sat on the end of her bed, comforted her, and stood by her.

“I miss her you know?” You finally mumbled out, looking away from him. “More than I did yesterday, and I’ll miss her more tomorrow than I did today.” The crack in your voice was evident, and it broke Jerry’s heart to see and hear you so distraught. His was hurting too, for so many reasons, but the main one was he didn’t know where his daughter was and it was slowly killing him.

“I know you do, kid,” His smile was faint, his hand trembling as he took a seat beside you on the sidewalk. “My girl loved you with all her heart,” His voice wavered and you couldn’t even smile at him, you couldn’t even promise him anything because how can you? “I know in my heart she’s still out there, somewhere, I’ve heard the talk, the gossip people are saying, saying that she’s dead, some days I believe it, some days I don’t, but I do know one thing, she’ll come back, to us, to you.”

“How do you know?”

“Because she’s an Anderson, we don’t give up,” Jerry laughed and for a second it felt like Abby was still with you, laughing and joking like nothing else in the world mattered. “And she’s your best friend, my girl wouldn’t leave you behind. She’ll come back, and that promise you made each other? When you were younger, stealing my beers and trying to smoke a joint?” He laughed again when your eyes widened and he patted your back lightly. “No judgment here, Abby is always safe with you, but you both made a promise, and she will always keep a promise.”

“I’ll find her, Jerry, I promise.”

“You’re slouching like a dog and m’pretty sure you’re drooling”

Peeling your eyes open slowly, you scowled at the sight of a smirking Ellie looking down at you amused. “Fuck off, what do you want?” You huffed, folding your arms over your chest and closing your eyes again.

“Saw Jerry,” Her voice was suddenly softer, and you could just picture the way she was playing with her fingers, not knowing what else to say. “He looked—”

“Worse for wear?”

“Something like that,” Ellie smiled and sat in the empty chair beside you. “I know this is a dumb question, but have you heard or seen anything?”

“You mean have I seen the girl I’m in love with walking around? The same girl who suddenly vanished into thin air?”

“Don’t be a dick, m’serious.” 

“Then no, I haven’t seen Abby walking around. Do you think I would be sitting here, drinking a beer at 1pm if Abby was here?”

Ellie, even though she pisses you off and gets under your skin, was helpful with everything. She was always there if you needed someone to talk to, always about if you needed just a little help trying to figure out when and where Abby disappeared too. After the breakup with Dina, Ellie felt herself stuck in a hole, unable to feel that push to get out and get help. You were there for each other, even if Dina did give you a subtle glare or side eye when she saw you together. You and Ellie was a line neither of you would cross. That’s always been how it is. 

“Hey guys!”

“Oh here we go,” Ellie shrank back in her chair and held back a groan. “Doesn’t this girl have other friends? I wouldn’t even say we are friends” 

“Who is— Oh fuck sake.” 

“How are we doing?!” Mandy, someone that Dina had brought into the friend group when Ellie and she were still together, skipped over and smiled at you both. “Ellie.”

“Anyway, as I was saying,” She completely blanked her, turned back to you, and smirked. “I think that we, me and you if you get my drift, should go and look for her.”

“Say fuckin’ what now?” You blinked.

“Find whom?” 

“Abby, who else do you think?” Your friend snapped.

“Oh, the girl who wanted you to abandon our date that one time?”

You can see her lips moving, but you don’t know what she or even Ellie are saying; your eyes are locked in on the charm around her bracelet. It wasn’t there a few weeks ago, you’d know, she’s always happy and cheery, flinging her arms about like she’s just snorted the lemonade instead of drinking it. It looked oddly familiar, but at the same time, you couldn’t put your finger on it. “So what do you think?” Ellie’s voice pulled you from your thoughts, and she looked at you with that infuriating grin.

“About?”

“Finding Abby”

Ellie can’t tell if you want to throttle her or throw something at her with the way you’re staring at her. It used to freak her out when you would go silent and just stare like you suddenly forgot how to function, but lately, she’s gotten used to it, this is your way of processing something. “Ellie, you can’t be serious right? We don’t even know where she went before— before she just disappeared. How are we going to find her? With what money? Where do we even start? This isn’t some crime show we watch on the TV, Ellie, this is real, this is her life—”

Her hands came up, grabbed your shoulders, and squeezed tightly with a soft chuckle. “Breath, Nancy Drew, you’re going to give yourself a panic attack. We don’t have to suddenly rush off, and get ourselves into trouble, we just have to retrace steps. Abby’s steps.”

“It’s been years, El.”

“I know, but we’ll find her, okay? She wouldn’t just leave, and she wouldn’t leave you. We all know this, you know this.” Her smile reassured you somewhat, but you still had that nerve eating away at you. What if she really was gone?

The charm was still gnawing at you. Where could you have pictured it before? You weren’t 100% sure you were seeing things right, maybe it was one that you had thought you had seen before but it was your mind playing tricks on you. Maybe it was because you had a hole in your heart, and you were trying to put something there to ease it a little. To make it whole again. 

So why couldn’t you let it go? Why did you have to keep pushing yourself into something that wasn’t there? Was it because you needed Abby, and you needed to find her? To restore your thoughts? Or was it because some part of you knew the outcome of what’s happened, and you were too afraid to say it out loud? 

“Been a couple of years since you came in here,” Jerry’s voice rang out from behind you. He sounded tired. He probably hasn’t slept properly in years, just like you. So you knew how he was feeling. “You and Abby would try stealing the candy, but I always knew it was you two. Always sneaking around and causing trouble between yourselves.”

You looked at him over your shoulder, fingers grasping at the picture he hand hung up on the wall of Abby, tightly and smiled painfully. “Did Abby take anything? When you—”

“I would have told you, you know that.” Jerry cut you off, dropping the box in his hands onto the floor, and sighed softly. “I’ve been in her room hundreds of times since she, well, since she disappeared and I haven’t noticed anything different. I haven’t even changed the wallpaper, s’too hard to handle.”

“She wouldn’t have left without a reason, Jerry. Abby doesn’t just go missing. If she was in trouble, she would have come to me, if anything was wrong, she would have called me, she would have asked for my help.”

“This is hard for me to talk about.”

“And you think It’s not hard for me?” You scoffed, gripping the picture tighter. “My best friend goes missing and there’s not a goddamn thing I can do. There’s nothing I can do. It fucking kills me to know that she’s probably out there, scared and alone, and I’m here feeling sorry for myself? You know how fucking shitty that makes me feel that I couldn’t keep her safe? She’s not fucking here and It’s my fault because I didn’t protect her hard enough. I should have walked her home that night, I should have done more.” 

For the first time in years, Jerry can see how terrified you are. For a while, you’ve been able to keep your emotions and feelings at bay, keep them under control, but as you stand there, looking at him, he can see a younger you. A scared little you. You look small, broken, and terrified as you stand before him. “This isn’t your fault,” He shakes his head and clenches his fist. “This has never been your fault.”

“When I look at you, I wait for you to shout and yell at me. Blame me for her going missing, I wait every single time, and it never comes. That’s pathetic, right? That I wait for you to blame me for the reason your daughter is missing.”

His sudden sob catches your attention, and you feel like shit. You’ve never meant to make him upset, you’ve always been the one to make people laugh, to make their stomachs hurt over a silly joke you made, but always has everyone laughing and smiling. But you’ve made him cry, and you suddenly feel lost again. “M’sorry—”

“I’ve never blamed you for this, and I won’t start today”

You find Ellie on her porch step that same afternoon after your conversation with Jerry, nursing a glass of water in her hand and her eyebrow raises just slightly when you storm over and stand right in front of her with your arms folded over your chest. “Alright? You look like you’re on the verge of a mental breakdown or murder.” She joked, and your lips quirked up just slightly. “What’s up?”

“I want to find Abby.”

Just like that, Ellie placed her glass beside her, almost knocking it over when she leaned back and grinned at you. “Nancy Drew, this is going to be something,” She lazily smiled and stood up quickly. “Just don’t go telling Joel, he worries enough about me and whatnot,”

“Tell him that we’re just going camping, just until we get somewhere with whatever steps we have to retrace around here.”

“Camping?” She scoffed and glared at you.

“Ellie, you dress like you live in the fuckin’ woods, he’ll believe you.” You rolled your eyes, brushed past her, up the stairs, and into her house. “C’mon idiot!”

“God, yes Mother!”

When you were younger, you and Abby spent a lot of time at Ellie’s house. Joel always had to refill glasses with lemonade to put more sandwiches on empty plates, and you were always thankful for him, Ellie, and Abby. Always for Abby. The memories of your childhood, your growing up, lingered in certain parts of the house. For a split second, you felt like you were back there as you walked into the living room; you remember how Abby almost cried when she lost a game of Uno, and Ellie teased her nonstop for it. You remember how the blonde would cuddle into your side during random movie nights, especially the horror movies Dina decided to watch, even though she would turn them off most of the time because it got too scary. 

The picture of the 4 of you still sits on the fireplace and a smile curves on your lips. You still remember the day it was taken, and how cold it was to take such a picture in the snow. If you squint hard enough, you can see the redness forming on Abby’s nose, and if pictures had audio then you would be able to faintly hear the chattering sound of Ellie’s teeth at how cold it was that night. You weren’t sure if Ellie would have gotten rid of all the memories, but you were thankful she didn’t. You lost Abby, Jerry lost Abby, but in the end, you all lost her. You all lost a part of yourselves that morning he couldn’t find her. A little bit of each of you died when the posters were put up all around Jackson not even a week later. The missing poster still haunts you. No matter what.

“Even in pictures, Abby always wanted to be close to you.”

Joel. Placing the picture back down, you turn around and find him holding logs of wood. His hair was slightly shorter; Ellie probably had enough and took the scissors to it. His eyes still had a small glimmer of hope, but he still looked exhausted. “Yeah,” You nodded and fumbled with your hoodie sleeve. “Haven’t taken a photo since, feels too weird without her in them. It would also feel like cheating, can’t take a picture that she’s not in, you know?” A faint smile tugged at your lips.

“You’ll all take one together when she’s back, no doubt about it. Hell, Ellie will probably fill her wall with new pictures of you guys,” Like Jerry, Joel’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes and you hold back either a sigh or a cry. “El misses her too, you know?” He added quietly, like he was scared she would hear you both. “She might not talk about it, like you, but I’ve heard her crying at night, sometimes it takes me hours to get her to calm down. Poor girl almost sent herself into a panic attack last night because she was crying so much. I wish I knew how to help her, all I ever want is to help her and keep her safe and I don’t know how. I feel lost because I can’t help her when she needs it.” 

“You’re doing the best you can, Joel.” You wanted to help her too, you wanted to ease and help everyone but even you were lost and confused. “She knows you’re here, and she’ll come to you when she’s ready to talk about it. I promise.”

“Yeah I know—”

“Joel? I thought you were out with Tommy?” Ellie appeared finally and looked between you both. “You guys alright?” She laughed nervously and dropped her jacket on the back of the chair with a shiver. It was slowly getting colder, so more blankets and fires were needed.

“Yeah, yeah, was just catching up and stuff, haven’t seen Joel or Tommy for a while.” 

“If you didn’t cancel on the dinner last week, you would have seen them,” She teased, kissing Joel’s cheek and taking the wood from his hands before walking over to the almost gone-out fire. “Old man misses you, he misses all of you.”

Even Abby, she thinks. 

“Right, you guys staying for dinner or?” Joel laughed.

“Yes, we’re staying,” Ellie looked at you, folding her arms over her chest. “Aren’t we?”

“Yeah, missed your cooking.” You grinned playfully at him. 

“We’ll be in my room!”

“I know El, It’s the only place you socialize.”

Pushing open her door, Ellie slumps herself in her desk chair, sighs, and then looks over at you as you slump face-first onto her bed. “Right, operation find Abby, what’s first?”

“Well, we all saw her that night, surely someone knows something that we don’t,” you mumbled before lifting your head slowly with a grumble. “Abby doesn’t just go missing within 24 hours, El. Not without someone seeing something. Have you seen how many people lurk outside the bar? Lurk around the shops? Someone has to have seen her, or something.”

“So, we start there. We ask everyone.”

“C’mon dude, surely you remember seeing her at least once that night?!” Ellie scowled, holding up a photograph of Abby in his face, almost shoving it under his nose with how angry she was getting. Sighing under your breath, you reached your hand up and pulled her arm away. 

“El, he doesn't remember, let’s ask someone else. Preferably someone who isn’t drunk right now.”

“We’ve been asking people for hours—”

“It’s not going to happen overnight El, and as much as I want it to, It’s impossible.” You rubbed at your face and sighed loud enough for her scowl to drop and a frown to appear. “I just want her to be okay, and I know that she’s scared somewhere, whenever she is, but I need to find her.”

“We’ll find her, we’ll look around all day and night if we have to.”

The metal door clangs loudly against the brick wall, sending a slight vibration through the floor, and the feeling of terror sinks in all over again. The room is dark, and cold, not even a blanket could keep you warm if you tried hard enough. The days have been lost, not even sure what year it is anymore, and not even having enough energy to count specks of dirt on the walls have been long forgotten. The energy to keep going was slowly getting lower and lower. 

The painful squeak of the door opening would cause anyone to lose sleep. “Eat your food, don’t make me waste more money on this shit if you don’t want to eat it. Stop being ungrateful and do what I tell you.” The small plate of food hits the floor, almost going everywhere, and just like that the door slams shut again without another word. 

How much longer?

“Yeah, I saw her.”

Both yours and Ellie’s eyebrows shoot up at his words, and you look at her with a glimmer of hope. “You did? You saw her?” You asked. 

“Course I did,” He nodded, taking a hit from his cigarette and coughing abruptly. “Was getting something from the bakery store, bread or something? She wasn’t there for long, but I saw her.”

“Was she with anyone?”

“Nah, was by herself, she didn’t seem to be in a rush or anything. I was cleaning up the tables outside, and that’s when I saw her. Then when it came about that she had gone missing the next week, I didn’t know what to think. I don’t think she went missing, but I suppose I should let the professionals deal with it.”

“Professionals,” Ellie clicked her tongue on the side of her mouth and laughed. “Yeah because they’re much help.”

“Thank you,” You smiled apologetically. “Let us know if you can remember anything else.”

“Will do. Hope you find her.”

 Just as you and Ellie turned around to leave, to ask someone else, that high-pitched voice rang out again. Stopping you both in your tracks. “Hi!” Mandy smiled sweetly, looking between you both as she got closer. 

“Gonna take this pencil and shove it right in my fuckin’ eye,” Ellie grumbled under her breath.

“Hi, Mandy.” You murmured.

“Whatcha doing?” 

“Looking for Abby, didn’t we mention this to you yesterday?” 

Jabbing Ellie in the rib, you shook your head when she glared at you and slapped on a fake smile. “Did you see Abby at all?” You asked, looking at her closely. 

Mandy looked between you both again, eyes just widening slightly before she laughed and shrugged. “No? We weren’t close.” 

“Don’t have to be close to someone to know if you saw them or not.” Ellie pointed out. 

“I was with my parents, and even if I did see her, I was drinking too much that night to know,” She shrugged again, looking at you with a happy smile. One that for some reason, made you uncomfortable. “Speaking of which, I have some books I have to give back to my parents.”

“You remember being drunk that many years ago?” 

There it was again, the wave of her hand brushing her hair away from her face when you noticed that same bracelet charm. It was making you irritated because you still can’t picture where it’s from, or who made it. But you know that you’ve seen it before, that you do know and are aware of. “—If there’s anything I can do to help, let me know, okay?” Mandy offered, giving you one final smile before she walked away. 

“She pisses me off more and more every day I swear. Remind me why you went on a date with her?” Ellie slipped the pen into her pocket and rubbed her nose harshly. Was she coming down with yet another cold? You thought to yourself.

“M’not sure, she always cornered me when I was alone and kept asking until I said yes, that’s it.” You shrugged as you both walked. “She always shows up when we’re talking about Abby, no?” 

“I don’t think she’s the kidnapping or killing type, to be honest. Too bubbly and cheerful.”

“She’s not dead, Ellie.”

Halting in her steps, Ellie turns around and acknowledges her words quickly. “Shit, no I know, I didn’t mean it like that. This is just stressing me out, we’re still getting nowhere.”

You both take a seat on the chairs outside the bakery, tired and feeling sorry for yourself as you both silently look through the list of names of people you still need to talk to. Wanted to know if anyone had seen her, just something. “There’s still the lady who owns the wine shop, that creepy guy who owns the other bar,” Ellie mumbled. 

Brushing your fingers over the paper, you shrink back in the chair with a sigh, one that already explains how tired you are, and close your eyes. 

Saturday, 1st May 2015.

“Yeah, m’here,” you mumbled, holding your phone to your ear, feet kicking at the rocks. “Make sure you rescue me.”

“I have a good feeling about this date,” Abby admitted softly, unbeknownst to you, holding back her sobs, and smiled even though you couldn’t see her. “I think It’s going to be amazing.”

“Yeah? How do you know?”

“Because I know you, and you deserve this.” 

Her words buried deep in your chest, and you felt your eyes slowly well up with tears, but you couldn’t cry, not today, not when you were about to have a fucking date. “Abby?”

You weren’t sure if you heard the hitch in her breath, and if you did, you ignored it. “Yeah?” She asked, fumbling with the sleeve of the hoodie she stole from you.

“Thank you.” 

Blinking away the tears in her eyes, Abby smiles sadly to herself. “Of course. I love you.”

“I love you—”

“Y/N? Hi!” 

“Abby I gotta go, I’ll come over after, yeah?” 

“Good luck.”

Slipping your phone into your back pocket once you hung up, you smiled tightly. “Mandy, right?” 

“The one and only! Seems unsettling it took you until the first date to know my name, but whatever, we’re here now.” She didn’t seem to notice your tight-lipped smile and urge to roll your eyes. “Shall we?”

“Lead the way.”  

The small restaurant was slightly dimmed, smelling of cigarettes and strong beer. Mandy didn’t seem to mind, in fact, she was happily walking around; looking for a table to sit at and a small shriek of happiness flooded from her once she found a table that fitted her. “Let’s sit, come come.” The redhead hurried, throwing her bag and jacket onto the table beside her.

“Oh, uh, sure,” You took her things, smiling apologetically at the old couple who looked at her shocked, and seated yourself in the chair opposite her. “M’not sure what to eat here, never been before.” You admitted sheepishly. 

Mandy, who had yet to even speak, looked at you with a smile. “Everything here is good except for the lemon tart and the white wine.”

“What’s wrong with the wine?”

“Tastes like shit, typical for them, and whatnot.” She shrugged again, and It caught you off guard with how fast she covered up her distaste for things with a wide smile. One that’s almost sinister-looking. She was a good person though, Dina mentioned she was. You couldn’t judge her based on a smile. “Now, how did you meet Dina and Ellie?”

“I met Abby first, actually—”

“Abby? Why doesn’t that name ring a bell?”

“Oh, uh, Jerry Anderson’s daughter? They own the candy store?”

“Ah,” Mandy flashed yet another smile, sitting back in her chair and nodding along. “Don’t know them personally, I wouldn’t have a reason to.” 

“Right,” Clearing your throat, you hummed and gave her your best grin. Did you look stupid? Maybe, but did she care? Apparently not. “How did you meet Dina?” 

The sharp pinch on your skin had your eyes snapping open, your body almost falling out of the chair when you spotted Ellie looking at you, grinning from ear to ear. “Dude, fuck you.”

“You’re wasting time, If m’not allowed to nap, then you aren’t allowed either.” She scoffed, slipped the sheet of paper into her pocket, and stood up. “We aren’t getting anywhere, let’s go back to mine and we can go from there.” 

“What if there’s nothing?”

“There’s always something.” 

You started to lose count of the days. First they started as days, and then they suddenly started blending into weeks. You and Ellie were still none the wiser. Still lost on every account of what happened when Abby had left your house the night she vanished. You had barely left your bed; only to shower, brush your teeth and eat, but besides that, it felt like you were falling into another deep hole you weren’t sure you could dig yourself out of. 

Today was the first day you gathered enough energy to pull yourself out of the hole that was your unmade bed, and clothe yourself in something that had way too many holes, and probably is over 5 years old, but it was a start. “Most books that come back are usually missing a couple of pages, s’not unusual,” Brenda, the owner, explained with a tired smile. “Doesn’t make it less annoying though.”

“Yeah, can’t read a book with a fuckin’ page missin,” You grumbled, feeling the same emotions as her. You could get lost in your books, and to know the one you wanted to read was missing about 5 pages pissed you off. “S’fine, I’ll just take the other books.”

“Are you sure, Honey?”

“Yeah, m’sure—”

From the corner of your eye, there was a sudden flash, a sliver of blonde hair caught your attention and your body did a full 180, dropping the books on the floor, causing Brenda to let out a scowl and drop to her knees quickly just to pick them up. They were collector books, how dare you just drop them?” Shit, fuck, sorry, Brenda, I have to go—”

You were already running away before you finished your sentence. Pushing people out of your way, tugging them and almost pushing them over as you scrambled to get past the large crowds. “Abby!?” You shouted, sadly tripping someone over in the process, but a part of you didn’t care. “Move out the fuckin’ way,” Your hands pressed onto a back, shoving them a little too hard for anyone’s liking, sending them tumbling over one of the stools. “Abby!”

Before you could comprehend anything else, let alone think about the blonde hair, your body barreled into another harshly, sending you both to the floor, your back hits the dirty floor with a loud thud and winds you in the process. “Fuck!” You hissed, coughing painfully.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N.” 

Jesse. Turning on your side, your eyes flutter open, the pain in your back trailing all over your body as you find him already pushing himself off the floor, crouching beside you, and holding a hand out for you. “Sorry, I just thought I saw someone.” You explained, taking his hand and letting him pull you up. 

“Abby?”

“What?”

“You were shouting her name,” He laughed, shrugging his shoulders and dusting off yours. “Dina told me you and Ellie were looking for her, or something like that,” Jesse murmured, holding his hand up to block the sun from his eyes. “Had any luck?”

“I wouldn’t be shouting her name like a fuckin’ maniac and pushing people over if I had luck finding her,” You scoffed and rolled your eyes. His smile fell at your aggression, but quickly recovered and patted your shoulder with another smile. “Sorry, I’ve just— I don’t know what to do, It feels like she’s still here, somewhere, and I just want her to come back.”

“I know, and she will. You’re both like, stuck to each other, If anyone can find her, It’s you,” 

“Y/N! Y/N!”

Turning your head, you find Ellie frantically running towards you and Jesse. She barely acknowledges him though and instead, shoves a piece of paper into your hands before hunching over, resting her hands on her thighs and panting heavily. “What’s this?” You question with a raised eyebrow. 

“Abby was arguing with someone,” She spoke between pants and cleared her throat. “That creepy old man we saw last week? Freaked me the fuck out, to be honest, but when I saw him again this morning, he kind of cornered me and started telling me that she was arguing with someone near the barn, it got heated, but that’s all he remembers.” Ellie finally got out. 

“Arguing? With who?”

“Fuck if I know, but he said it sounded bad. So whoever she was arguing with, knows where she went, or was the one to see her last, right?” She blinked, copying Jesse and blocking the sun from her face with her hand. 

“I thought I saw her,” 

“Saw who? Abby? When?”

“Was talking to Brenda about books, and then It just felt like I saw her—”

“Almost took me out in the process.” Jesse chimed in.

Rolling your eyes, you looked down at the sheet of paper; the same sheet that listed the names of everyone who lived here. “So she was arguing with someone? That could have been anyone.”

“Half of them are old, one argument would send them into their coffin—”

“Ellie!” 

“What?! M’just saying! It’s true.”

“Jesse, do you remember Abby wearing jewelry?” You asked after a few seconds of silence.

His eyebrow rose this time, only to furrow. “Uh, maybe, I’m not sure, why?”

“Abby never wore jewelry unless it was from you or Jerry.” Ellie gave you the same confused look. “Why? What is that big head of yours thinking?”

“Nah, s’nothing, was just wondering,” You shook them off and scrambled the paper between your hands. “Something just feels off and I can’t explain it no matter how much I think.”

“Jerry still has all those pictures we took, maybe we can start there this time, see if anything jumps out at you?” Jesse suggested this time.

“Wha— You?” Ellie scoffed.

“Abby is my friend too, Ellie.”

“And yet you’ve never taken the time to visit us or Jerry since she went missing, shocker, Jesse.”

“Guys, enough,” You pinched the bridge of your nose harshly and sighed deeply. “Let’s just go see Jerry for the pictures.”

Jerry wasn’t lying when he said he hadn’t changed anything in Abby’s bedroom. The wallpaper was still the yellow and sunflower she picked when she turned 16. The bed sheets were the same light blue with clouds that scattered around the fabric. Her mirror still had every Polaroid hung up from the multiple drunk nights you all had. “There’s still another box in the attic, I’ll get it for you.” Her Dad appeared in the doorway, looking at you all with a gentle smile. “Weird seeing all of you in her room after so long,” He chuckled and placed the box on her bed. “Can I get any of you something to eat or drink?”

“No, thank you.”

“M’alright, but thank you, Jerry.”

“Can I have a glass of water?”

“Really, Jesse?” Ellie glared. 

“What?! I’m thirsty.” Jesse glared back.

“I’ll get your drink and then grab the last box.” Jerry laughed at their bickering and left the room. 

“Right,” Ellie clasped her hands together and took refuge at Abby’s untouched desk. You could tell Jerry hadn’t touched anything there because the old music festival poster was still lying there on the oak. “Something that could help us.” She muttered to herself while you and Jesse were already opening the box. 

“I didn’t realize how many pictures we took when we were all together,” Jesse smiled fondly at the thought of seeing so many old memories between you all and instantly shoved his hand into the filled box and grabbed a handful of pictures.

“How many are there?” Ellie laughed from the other side of the room.

“More than Joel has of those vinyls, that’s for sure.” You chuckled.

“Old man is gonna be so jealous we have more pictures together than he has of his beloved music.” 

“Or you could find another that he doesn’t have yet, you know, being a good daughter to the old man seeing as he feeds you 4 times a day and takes care of you,” You suggested with a subtle smirk. “Just a little idea of what to get him for his birthday.”

“Oh yeah? What are you gonna get him then?”

“Another jumper, what else?”

“You’ve given him over 10 since you met him!”

“Didn’t you steal 3 of my jumpers?” You quipped back, eyebrow rose and lips quirked up.

“You just— Your jumpers are comfy, okay!?”

“Oh I was just asking, you’re the one getting all defensive,” You teased before taking your handful of pictures. You don’t remember each time you took them, there were so many that it could go back years before you were even friends with Ellie or Jesse. There were more than enough to write an entire book; it seemed as you scanned over a couple. 

As you went to grab another set, seeing as the ones you picked didn’t really give you much, you had knocked over the pile that Jesse had already looked through, and sent them tumbling to the floor. Cursing under your breath, you rolled your eyes at yourself and sighed. “Shit,” You grumbled, placing the pile of photos on the bed before kneeling on the floor to grab the few that you knocked over. “Ellie, did you find anything?” 

“Nah, still nothing.” The Brunette sighed from the desk.

Picking up the abandoned photos, you quickly catch onto a slight glint and sparkle from the corner of your eye; furrowing your eyebrows, you push the pictures onto the bed with the others, and lean your head down more, looking under her bed. “What the—” Reaching towards whatever it was you thought you saw, you grabbed it, and your lips parted with a soft exhale.

A bracelet.

Holding it up, you inspected it closely. “What’s that?” Jesse spoke up as you noticed there were quite a few charms already missing. Did Abby hide them? Why was there only a few left, and the others were gone? “Is that Abby’s?”

Ellie had quickly snatched it from your hands, which caused you to almost stumble onto the floor at her abrupt movement, held the bracelet up and looked at it. “I’ve only seen this once,”

“So It’s hers?”

“I assume so, I saw her with it on her 16th birthday,” Ellie nodded and took a seat in the middle of Abby’s bed with her legs crossed. “I’ve only seen her with it on once, and I mean, you guys should know that too seeing as you got her the fuckin’ thing, Y/N”

Did you? Then why couldn’t you remember? 

“How don’t you remember?” Jesse laughed and slapped the back of your head gently. “Can we just talk about the fact she wore all of your clothes? She wouldn’t go out unless you were going, nor would she go to any of the parties here unless you were with her? You were both obsessed with each other. You bought it for her, or made it for her, should I say.”

“Made it?” You choked out, looking over at the bracelet that was still in Ellie’s hands. “I don’t—”

“It’s been hard for all of us, but more so for you,” Ellie admitted quietly and smiled sadly. “Abs was closer to you than the rest of us. We can all understand that this is something you don’t remember because you’re too busy blaming yourself.”

“That’s not—”

“Y/N, you’ve been blaming yourself the second the missing posters went up,” Jesse spoke, sitting beside Ellie on the bed. “Every day since then you’ve blamed yourself,and  you’re still blaming yourself, right now, I just know your head is going through the cycle It’s been going through for the past god knows how many years.”

“But why don’t I remember making her that? Why?”

“Because you’re blocking it out,” Jerry spoke up. “You’re blocking out all the memories because you’re scared.”

“M’not scared—”

Planting the final box on the floor, Jerry crouches beside you and places his hand comfortingly on your shoulder. “You’re blocking them out because you’re scared. You’ve been blocking them out because you’re blaming yourself, and maybe if you block them out, it won’t hurt you as much—”

“Hurt me,” You scoffed and shrugged his hand off your shoulder as you stumbled to your feet. “Won’t hurt me as much. M’not ready to let her go, is that better for you? Maybe if I keep my memories locked away, I’ll have more time to make new ones when she comes home. I know this is fucking hard for all of us, for you, but it is killing me—” You paused to take a deep breath, ignoring the worried looks on all of them. “It’s fucking killing me going through fucking photos, asking people around the fucking village, trying to figure out what happened when she’s fucking alone, all alone and I don’t know where she is. This is pointless, all of this is pointless because Abby means more to me than some pictures! I’m here looking at fucking pictures while the girl I love is somewhere out there, fucking scared and there’s nothing I can do. I can’t promise you anything, I can’t promise no one anything”

“Y/N—” Jerry frowned as he rose to his feet and cupped your face gently between his hands. “You’re looking for her,” He murmured with a soft smile. “You’re doing something, and you’re doing a better job than the so-called professionals.”

“I can’t even figure out who she argued with, I haven’t done anything.” You choked out, body falling into his as he wrapped his arm around you and cupped the back of your head. “I need her back, I just want her back.”

“I have faith. With you both, I always have.” Jerry smiled. 

You weren’t sure what happened after your small breakdown, all you know is that you’re still sitting in Abby’s bedroom 5 hours later. Still sifting through endless pictures, notes, journals, anything to give you a hint of something. Was Abby afraid of someone? Why was she arguing? Who was she arguing with? You had so many questions and yet you felt like you had so little time to get everything. “This is the second time she’s yelled at me, what did I do wrong?” Ellie, who was hunched over the desk, mumbled as your eyes locked onto her back.

“Ellie? Who yelled at you?” You asked, sitting up slowly.

“What? No, It’s a diary entry in Abby’s journal,” She turned around, made her way over to you, climbed onto the bed, and slumped beside you. “Look,” Ellie passed you the book, onto the page she was reading and you furrowed your eyebrows when you saw it.

“Who yelled at her?” You took the journal from her hand and skimmed through more of the pages, ones you assume Ellie has yet to read through. Jesse left not that long ago, muttering apologies but his parents wanted him to help with dinner. 

The more you flipped through, the more you noticed.

Sunday, 2nd May 2015.

I think she hates me. I’m not sure what I did for her to hate me, but apparently I must have done something.

Sunday, 2nd May 2015.

She threatened me today. I haven’t stopped crying. I don’t know why she hates me.

Monday, 3rd May 2015.

It’s getting harder and harder to look at her and tell her I’m fine. It’s breaking my heart and I can’t even talk to her about it. 

“Obviously the last one has to be about you. So something happened and she couldn’t even talk to you about it, I assume?” Ellie slumped her head on your shoulder and grumbled. “Is there anything else? To just give us a timeline for however long this went on for?”

“That was the last one,” You closed the book and placed it on your lap with another long sigh. “Abby never told Jerry anything, so I doubt talking to him about this is going to do much.”

“So, over the past god knows how many weeks we’ve been doing this, we’ve found out that someone was on Abby’s case, who, that’s still another thing we need to figure out,” Ellie explained, nervously fumbling with the ring on her finger.

“I wish she would have spoken to me, I could have done something, kept her even safer,” You felt worse now than you did earlier, reading those journal entries made your heart sink. Your best friend, the girl you were in love with, was going through something she felt like she couldn’t even talk to you about. 

“Abby would hate that you’re blaming yourself,” Ellie frowned, curling into your side and rubbing her nose. “You know that she would never let you think that about yourself, it will kill her to know you’re blaming everything on yourself, still.”

“I always promised I would keep her safe, and I couldn’t even do that. If I did, she would still be here, she wouldn’t be missing, El.”

“When we find her, m’going to ask her for permission to punch you—”

“Why?!” You cut her off, outraged and shocked at her words.

“Because then maybe you’ll stop blaming yourself for this, for everything that’s happened.” 

You’re sitting at the bar the next evening when it happens, minding your own business as you wait for Jesse and Ellie, when a guy, a gruff guy walks up to you; slightly drunk and smoking a cigarette, when he bumps into your shoulder and scowls. “Heard you and your little friends are looking for that girl,” He hiccups, the stench of his beer breath has your stomach churning and nose scrunching up at the smell.

“Fucks it to you?”

“She’s been gone for years, no chance she’s gonna turn up now, no?” His laugh made your skin crawl and you didn’t know if you wanted to smash his beer bottle over his head or break his jaw. Maybe both, it would be easier for him to stop talking to you. “I don’t know why you try, she was a lost cause years before she disappeared.”

“You don’t even know her, shut your fuckin’ mouth.” You warned, standing up slowly. You towered over him by a few more inches, and half expected him to cower away, most people did, but he didn’t, he just laughed harder, taking constant drags of his cigarette and looked you up and down. “M’not afraid to shove that bottle down your throat, now fuck off.” Your face was now in his, and the smell of beer smelt worse if that was even possible.

“Oh yeah? The fuck you gonna do? Shove this bottle down my throat? Your threats are empty and pointless, like your search for your little fuckin’ girlfriend—”

“Say one more thing about her, I dare you.”

Before you can go through with your promise, a hand grabs your arm and pulls you away. “He’s not worth it, just let it go.” Ellie, who you hadn’t even noticed arrived, murmured into your ear and dragged you away from the smiling man. “Fighting someone isn’t worth it when we have someone more important to find, okay?”

“Stupid cunt.” You growled at him, letting Ellie drag you out of the bar and into the open air. “Could have just let me throttle the bastard or something.”

“And risk you getting into trouble when Abby is waiting for you?” Jesse spoke up and pushed himself off the wall. 

Just her name has you relaxing in your spot and nodding to yourself slowly. Abby was waiting for you, wherever that might be, she was. No matter how long it takes, you’re going to be the one to save the woman you love. All you have is hope. Pulling out your small box of cigarettes along with your lighter, you shove one between your lips, lighting it up and taking a long drag. “So, the notes, the bracelet, what’s next?” You mumbled between puffs. 

“Are you chain smoking?” Ellie laughed with a subtle scoff. 

“Give me a break, I haven’t slept properly in years,” You rolled your eyes and slumped your head on Jesse’s shoulder. “What’s next?” You asked again. 

As Ellie went to open her mouth, Mandy appeared outside the small shop beside the bar, looking over at you and waving quickly. “Y/N!” And before you knew it, she was already standing in front of you before you had the time to register what was going on. “Are you free tonight?”

Coughing on your cigarette, Jesse slapped your back and laughed softly while you cleared your throat and smiled painfully at her. “Tonight? Uhm m’not sure, why?” 

“I was wondering if you wanted to come over and have dinner with me?”

“Tonight?”

“Yes, silly, I said tonight didn’t I?”

You could see Ellie rolling her eyes beside you from the corner of your eyes, and as much as you wanted to say no, maybe saying yes might help your case. You could try and find something else about Abby, maybe Mandy might have seen someone being rude or mean to Abby when you weren’t around. “Yeah, sure!” You agreed, a little too enthusiastically for your liking. 

“What?!” Ellie shouted. 

“Oh really? That would be wonderful, how’s 7?”

“7 is great, Mandy”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Ellie whisper-yelled once Mandy walked away and was so far away that she couldn’t hear you guys. “Are you fucked in the head or something?”

“Relax, If It’s just me with her, she might know something and tell me.”

Eyeing you up closely, she simply sighs and slaps your back gently. “Make sure you text or call if she starts to freak you out too much.”

“Or if she tries to kiss you again,” Jesse added with a snicker. 

“You guys are so funny, seriously, should become comedians or something.” You took another drag of your cigarette and glared at them both.

“And never be able to see your angelic face again? How would I survive?” Ellie gasped dramatically and grinned. “No but seriously, don’t give into her weirdness. Remember, only anything to do with Abby, got it?”

“Yes mom,” You huffed while Ellie simply pinched your arm and laughed at your scowl. “We have time to kill until then though. Any idea on who threatened her? I keep thinking but no one comes to mind.”

“No fuckin’ idea, Abby had her secrets, ones she didn’t tell us about, but if it risked her like, m’sure she would have told one of us right? She wouldn’t just hide it until something like this happened?” 

“None of us knew this was going to happen, let alone Abby knowing,” You murmured, using your shoe to put out the cigarette you dropped on the floor once you were done with it. “Abby used to have multiple journals, were the others not in there?”

“Not that I saw, she probably kept there somewhere else. Journals aren’t supposed to be snooped in, hiding it is what I would have done if I had one.”

“So you’re saying we look in her room again?”

“Worth a try, might find something else.”

Abby’s Dad didn’t mind that you were once again sitting in her bedroom, it was something you all did when you were younger; Abby’s house being the one that everyone hung out in the most, so changing that routine now would be pointless. 

Looking through the endless supply of books in her bookshelf, you bite back another sigh when you placed yet another back, still not finding anything that could be of use or even a fuckin’ clue, and turning around. Ellie was sitting cross-legged on the floor at the end of the bed, going through the journals you both looked through last night, and with the sigh she lets out when she throws her head back, you know it’s another deadend. 

“Nothing, again.”

Sitting down beside her, you take the journal from her hands, your fingers brush against the words, even her words were somewhat comforting to you. As you fumbled with the pages, you were suddenly intrigued with what Ellie was doing; Reading notes you all used to write for each other if one of you had gotten into trouble with your parents, and weren’t allowed to leave the house. “Abby never got in trouble, like ever,” She laughed.

“Because we never told Jerry about the other shit,” You snickered, the memory of Abby trying weed for the first time, and her Dad freaking out when you both arrived home, slightly buzzed out your minds, trying to act normal. “He knows about most of the weed stories, but not the insane shit we used to get up to as kids.”

“We were fuckin’ crazy, weren’t we?���

“Oh, we should have been shipped off to the ward for the shit we did.”

“Remember Brenda thinking she had rats in the shop? But it was just us making it seem like she was going crazy?”

“I still regret that, I wouldn’t have done it if you didn’t give me 4 joints before,” You threw your head back and laughed. Your laughter died down quite quickly when you brushed your thumb against the edge of the page, a sharp pain shooting through your hand. “Shit! Ow.”

“Fuck you do?”

“Paper cut,” You grumbled and looked down at your small wound.

Only for your eyes to widen at the slight kink in the paper.

“Ellie”

“Did you know that Abby used to call you butterfly?” Ellie, oblivious to your stare, laughed.

“Ellie” You repeated, louder this time.

“What?”

Turning to face you, her eyes land on the paper instead of your face, and the letters fall from between her fingers once you’re peeling apart two pieces that had somewhat been glued together. 

“Typical Abby, fair play,” Ellie murmured once you pushed the two pieces apart.

A whole new entry. 

Tuesday, 4th May 2015

I can feel her. She’s everywhere. She’s told me to back off, but what do I say when she notices I’m pulling away? I can’t even smile at her without it being a problem. What if she kills me? She’s crazy, I don’t think anyone understands. I tried to keep her away, but she’s clawing her way into everything and tearing things apart. At night, I can see her outside the window, looking at me, smiling at me, looking at me like she wants to kill me. Who do I tell? Who can I go to without making it a big issue? Is she really capable of killing me? Making me disappear? 

What if she kills me?

What if she does?

What if this is the last time I’ll see my friends, my dad, my journals?

What……………….

Closing the book quickly, Ellie flinches beside you at the force, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. “This is getting fuckin’ weird.” You admitted. “I’m going to kill whoever it is.”

“Let’s not jump to those conclusions just yet, is there anything else?”

“No, it’s the only page we haven’t seen. So it’s a woman, a woman was the last person to see her, right? That’s gotta be the only reason right now. We have nothing else and if there is other stuff, we’re fuckin’ missing it.”

“I can look through everything again when you’re with that crazy one, see if we missed anything. I don’t mind drinking another black coffee, some energy drinks and staying awake all night.” Ellie joked.

“I don’t mind going through it all again with you when I get back. We’re still meeting up later, yeah?”

“If she doesn’t somehow kidnap you and trick you into dating you, yeah.” 

6:45pm rolled around quickly and you found yourself standing outside of Mandy’s house, one hand shoved in your jacket pocket while the other was at your side, and patiently waiting. Just as you were about to knock a second time, the door swung open to reveal a very happy Mandy, smile so wide you could see her teeth. “You made it!”

“Course,” You laughed, digging your hand deeper into your pocket. “Sorry m’early,”

“Don’t worry, earlier the better! Come in, it’s cold out here tonight,” 

Stepping aside to let you in, Mandy’s hand brushes against yours as you walk past her and into her warmer house, oblivious to the way her eyes raked over you, almost a little too desperately. “The food is in the oven, should be ready soon, can I take your jacket?”

“Nah, you’re alright, It’s freezing out there, gotta warm myself up a little.” You smiled, eyes instantly noticing just how neatly the table was set. The candles flickered almost angrily, the cutlery placed perfectly, and the tablecloth somehow matched everything. “This is nice,”

“Yes, isn’t it? I wanted it to be perfect for you.” Mandy commented softly. “I’m just going to check on the food, feel free to take a seat, get yourself comfortable and stuff, I won’t be long.”

“Take your time.”

Just as you sat down at her table, a sudden loud banging had you flinching in your seat. You looked over at Mandy who halted in her steps not even 5 minutes later when she reappeared from the kitchen and from where you were sitting you could see and hear her grinding her teeth together. “What was that?” 

“The neighbors are probably decorating again, It’s starting to get on my nerves If I’m being honest.”

“At 7:30?” You laughed nervously.

“They have no consideration for those who live beside them. I’ll start giving them a piece of my mind If they keep it up,” She explained, placing the hot pot in the middle of the table with a bright and wide smile. “There! Can I get you anything to drink? Water? Juice? Wine?”

“Smells amazing,” You smiled and got a little more comfortable in your seat before looking at her again. “Water’s fine, thank you.”

“It’s my Mother’s recipe, nothing beats a homemade meal,” Mandy’s smile never left her face, not even when you quickly dug into the fresh meal. “I’ll be back with your water.”

You were almost done with half of your food by the time she came back with a fresh glass of water, and you looked at her with a thankful smile when she placed it beside your plate. “Thank you,” You mumbled before furrowing your eyebrows. “Sorry, that’s gross.”

“No, no it’s cute, don’t worry.” She giggled, sitting in her own chair. 

As she started digging into her meal, her eyes would flutter over at you, but you seem really into whatever it was that she made to notice the subtle flirtatious eyes she was making at you. It was delicious, and you loved food, so you couldn’t complain now could you? “This is really good,” You mumbled between chews. 

“I’ll thank my mother for you when I see her again.” Mandy smiled.

“You might want to give me the recipe, it’s so good.”

“As much as I like you, I can’t do that, family recipe.” She smirked widely. 

Mandy continued to eat her food, little moans of delight falling from her mouth with each bite she took, while you were suddenly falling into your own world. Mandy hadn’t seemed to notice you had stopped replying to what she was asking you, or just wanted to get the food out of the way before she continued. Either way, it didn’t seem to affect her much. All you could seriously think about was Abby, hoping that she had some source of something to keep her hoping and until you could find her. 

“Are you okay? You’ve gone quiet,” Mandy murmured finally, finishing the final piece of her food. “Is it the food? Is it not sitting right with you?”

“No! No the food was amazing, m’just thinking, nothing to worry about.”

“Worried about what?”

“Just worried about Abby is all, like I said, nothing to worry about.” You smiled and wiped your face with the napkin you had on your lap. 

You hadn’t noticed the way the smile on her face dropped and just stared at you. “Were you close? You and Abby?” She asked.

“Since we were babies pretty much,” 

“That’s nice, nice to have someone close to you and that you can trust, I suppose.” Her voice suddenly got a little quieter, and nursed her glass of wine. “How do you know she didn’t just leave willingly?”

“Abby wouldn’t have left Jerry without a reason, she wouldn’t have left us, left me, without a reason.” You frowned, eyes focused on the empty plate before you. “She’s not the type of person to run away. Even when things are hard, she comes to me for help and she didn’t—”

“Was she in trouble?”

“Someone didn’t like her, threatened her, and I didn’t even know. If she told me, I could have helped her, kept her safe.”

“S’not your job to protect everyone,” Mandy smiled softly, watching you closely. “You know that right? You can’t save everyone, especially if they can’t even save themselves.” Her fingers graze yours on the top of the table, you weren’t even sure how or when she moved hers but when you felt them against yours, your eyes locked with hers. “Maybe Abby left because there are better things out there for her, or maybe she just wanted to see something new.”

“Without me?” The crack in your voice was evident. 

“Anyone can leave if they truly need to or want to,” Her fingers continued to brush against yours with each word and you couldn’t even move. “People expect so much from people around here, we’re all trying to live, find someone, and get on with our lives, and sometimes that can be too much for one person to handle. Maybe Abby didn’t want to burden you with a thought she might have had.”

“Her burdens are mine,” You murmured. “Whatever she deals with, we deal with it together.”

Her hand retracted from yours quickly, once again you didn’t notice the scowl on her face, and grabbed your plate from in front of you as well as her own before making her way into the kitchen. “Would you like some dessert?” She asked, abandoning the conversation altogether.

“Oh, uh, sure?”

The light above flickered, making a soft buzzing sound as the room felt colder again. Sunlight wasn’t a luxury anymore, even if it was so desperately needed. Mold has started coming in quicker than before. Even the eerie darkness is something straight out of a nightmare. The only thing in the room that was noticeable was the small lamp on the floor, but even that wasn’t bright enough. It never was. 

By the time Mandy came back with two bowls in her hands, you were standing by the bookshelf, running your fingers over the spines of what you can already tell are very old books. “Didn’t know you liked to read books?” You asked, looking over at her.

“Oh yeah! I love books, mostly the classics, but the thriller ones are my favorite. Could read them all day. I actually have to return those to Brenda soon, had them way too long.” She giggled and placed the bowls on the table. “What is your favorite?”

“The Shining.” 

“Haven’t read it before, do you have a copy I could borrow?”

“Yeah sure, I’ll find it and give It to you.”

“Perfect, let’s eat dessert!”

“Glad you’re back in one piece,” Ellie was the first to comment when she noticed you walking into the bar an hour later. “Didn’t try to shove her tongue down your throat this time?” 

“Like you tried with Abby that one time you got drunk?” You quipped back with a lazy grin and slumped into the chair beside her. “Nah, she just kept touching my hand, not trying to kiss me this time.”

“Oh? Are you lovebirds now?”

“Knock it off, El.” Jesse laughed and continued to sip his beer.

“No, you imbecile, she did get weird whenever I spoke about Abby though,” You shrugged, pinching some of Ellie’s chips. “Like, she just got up and went to get dessert?”

“She’s always been weird, so fuckin’ obsessed with you for a start.” It was Jesse this time. 

“Really? I never got that vibe before,”

“You wouldn’t, you’re like so fucking oblivious to most shit,” Ellie snorted. “You didn’t even realize I  was flirting with you when I first met you. Took you 4 months to say, Ellie, were you asking me on a date that one time? Oblivious.”

“In my defense, you fuckin’ flirt with everyone,” You defended with a soft laugh, and eyed up the pictures on the table. “What are you guys doing anyway?”

“Well, while you and Barbie were having your little date, me and Jesse were going through the rest of the pictures. Nothing has jumped out yet, but I do have a feeling something will point us in the right direction this time.”

“Right, pass us some then,” 

“Of course your majesty.”

“Fuck off, man,” You snickered and snatched the pile from her hand. “Oh, you know the family that lives beside Mandy?”

“Huh? Beside Mandy?”

“Yeah, the family that lives next door?”

“No one has lived in that house for like 4 years,” Ellie blinked, confusion written all over her face.

“Oh, she said they were decorating or something earlier, there was banging and that’s what she told me.” 

“Joel knows more than me about anyone, I’ll ask him later, see if anyone’s moved in since the other family,” Ellie promised with a tired smile.

“Thanks, El,” A chip that you flicked hit her in the chin and you held back a laugh when her eyes widened and she suddenly scowled at you. “Sorry, you looked like you needed something to cheer you up. Did you sleep much last night?” 

“A few hours, better than none, right?” The smile she gave you didn’t reach her face. Everyone is like that lately and you sadly understood why. The community wasn’t exactly whole right now. 

“Want to watch a movie tonight?” You suggested as you ate some more chips.

“What one?”

“Uhm, you pick, I don’t mind which one.”

“Don’t wanna freak anyone out or anything,”

“What is it?”

“There’s someone in the background of the picture you and Abby took the night before, well, you know, you can’t see much but It’s someone for sure,” Jesse mumbled and slid the picture over to you. 

The background is blurry, you notice that much at first but as you squint your eyes just a little more, a black silhouette is something you can pick out. Standing behind what you can only assume Is one of the trees just across the ways of the pond both you and Abby spent a lot of time at. “It’s too dark, I can’t fucking pick out who it is,” You huffed. “Do you think It might be who threatened her?”

“And risk getting caught when she’s with you? Knowing damn well you’d knock their teeth out?” Ellie laughed.

“Anything’s possible, El.”

“Let’s say this is them, how do we find out who it is?”

“Could host a small get-together tomorrow night here, remembering Abby or something, and we all write something for her, see if someone slips up and exposes themselves?” Jesse suggests, looking between you and Ellie. 

“It could work,” Both you and Ellie answered at the same time. “But how would we know who it is if they turn up and say something bad?”

“No idea, but we’ll figure it out as we go. Haven’t we always done that?” He smiled and pushed the rest of the pictures which were of no use back into the box before putting the lid on. “We’ve always had each other's back, that’s not going to change.” 

“I’ll do whatever It takes If It means we’re one step closer to finding Abby.” You agreed. 

“Alright, you’ve pulled my leg, I’m in too.” Ellie dramatically huffed but the smile on her lips gave her away. “Let’s watch that sappy romance movie,”

“Which one?”

“Abby’s favorite.”

“You, Ellie Williams, want to watch Love Actually? Willingly?”

“Why are you saying my name like that?! Yes, let’s watch it.” She scoffed and slapped the back of your head when she stood up. “Besides, you and Abby can bully me all you want for wanting to watch it when she’s back with us.” 

“She’ll never let you live it down, you know what right?”

“Yeah, but It’s worth It, she is too.” Ellie winked. 

—

The following evening dawned on you quicker than you would have liked. All of you were on edge. The picture, the missing charms, the truth that someone didn’t like Abby had you, Ellie and Jesse looking around the bar with caution. 

The remembrance of Abby had the all clear, everyone helped and chipped in where they could. Jerry was over the moon when you told him that you guys were doing this for her. Maybe in hopes that it would bring you one step closer, or maybe one step closer to her coming home.   

Thursday, 6th June 2015 

“Abby, you look beautiful, why are you panicking?” Abby was sitting on the edge of her bed, fumbling with her bracelet yet not looking at you. “Hey, Abs, what’s up?” You crouched in front of her and took her hands into yours with a soft smile.

“I don’t feel beautiful,” She admitted sadly.

“Oh, Abby, you are beautiful. Everything about you is beautiful, your soul is perfect and stunning. You are the most beautiful person in the world. Your hair is beautiful, your smile is beautiful, your pretty eyes are stunning,” Her sniffle caused you to pause, reach your hand up and wipe it away. “Everything about you is beautiful.”

“Really?”

Cupping her face between your hands, you press you lips against her forehead and smile. “Yes, really, you are so fuckin’ beautiful.” You whispered into her skin. “I promise, love.”

How could you not see the pain she was holding back, behind the little glint in her eye?

“To Abby!”

Jerry’s voice brought you back to reality, smiled at everyone who raised a glass in her honor and nodded to himself as he walked down the small steps. “Thank you for coming,” He murmured to a few of the older couples who gave him a gentle hug and a soft reassurance. “I know that Abby would have loved to see you guys together again.” 

On edge, you looked around the bar slowly, trying to pick out anyone that was acting weird or unusually suspicious. That’s how you looked at most people these days, picking them out one by one, wondering if they had done or said anything to Abby the night she vanished. You spotted Ellie doing the same on the other side of the room, taking small unsuspicious glances at everyone who came in and left. “Here,”

To your left, Jesse was holding a beer towards you, which you took with a soft thank you, and leaned against the wall with you. “Anyone catch your eye yet?”

“Not yet, everyone seems to be kind, and talking to Jerry, cheering him up and stuff,” You mumbled between sips, eyes still moving around as each person moves around before you. “I don’t think they would hide, we know most people here, if anyone’s missing, we’ll know.”

“And if they do choose to miss something that is important to the community, then they are hiding something.” Jesse added. 

“Exactly, I don’t think they’re stupid enough to let it slip, know that we know something.”

“Did that guy who told you she was arguing with someone tell you anything else or?”

“Deadend, he just smiles at me all weird like now when I see him.” You grimaced and took a big gulp of your beer. 

“It’s that friendly smile you have.”

“Eat a dick.” You laughed.

In the middle of the bar, there was a box, which gave people to write notes, poems, or even just one word, so that when Abby did come back home, she would have kind things to read, and hopefully it would be able to cheer everyone else up when they read a few of them nearing the end of the night. You thought the idea was a good one when Jerry asked you about it this morning. He enjoyed having your input when it came to his daughter. 

You wrote something simple, not overdone, but a little i miss you and i love you more than anything. It meant more than anything, Abby would know that if she was here right now, reading them. You always noticed the way she would blush and look away when you would tell her you love her before you either hung up after being on a phone call with her for hours, or even when you left her house. “I love you.” You murmured, folded the piece of paper and pressed you lips to it. 

Ellie smiled from across the room.

She always found it amusing it took you years to know you were indeed madly in love with your best friend. 

“Hey,”

You almost gave yourself whiplash with how fast you turned around to find Dina looking at you and nervously fumbling with her fingers. “Dina, hey,” You smiled awkwardly. 

“Do you hate me? It would make sense if you did, with how I pulled away from you all, but with Abby going missing, I just got scared, and being around you guys made me miss her so much.” Dina rushed out.

“I don’t hate you,” You reassured her quietly. “I understand though, it’s okay, we all deal with it differently, but I don’t hate you, none of us do.”

“Is Ellie okay?” She asked hesitantly.

“I don’t think so, but she’s getting there,” You admitted truthfully. “You should talk to her.”

“Wouldn’t that be awkward?”

“Nothing’s awkward unless you make it awkward.” You winked with a soft laugh.

“Right, I’ll go and see her, if she starts freaking out, you should probably come over or something.” Dina smiled.

“Will do.”

If it wasn’t for the fact you were already looking at Ellie, you would have had a stroke when you heard the loud crashing of her falling off the chair when she noticed Dina making her way towards her. Snorting under your breath, you shook your head, pushed yourself off the wall and made a beeline straight for the beer. “Usual?” Elaine, the older woman who took over the bar after her husband passed, smiled when you were quick to nod and slump yourself against the counter. “You look tired, you sleepin’?”

“When I can, which isn’t much,” You mumbled softly with a subtle shrug. “But what can you do? Sleep is the last thing I need right now.”

“Maybe you need just a little bit to find her.”

Pushing the beer into your direction, she laughed at the way your lips parted as you grabbed it; ready to ask her how she knew. “Jerry told me earlier when he came here to set up. It’s a good thing, you know? Abby adored you, and I know how much you care about her.”

“I seem to be getting nowhere when I feel like m’finally getting somewhere.”

“There’s more out there than meets the eye, Honey,” Elaine smiled. “You just have to look closer.”

“What do you—”

“Y/N?” Jerry called out.

God fucking damn it.

At his voice, you turn your body slightly, almost stiffly and raise an eyebrow at him. You quietly excuse yourself from the conversation you got yourself into with Elaine when he waved you over, and took a couple of strides towards him, placing your almost empty bottle of beer on the table beside you. “What’s up?”

“I was just going through some of the notes, you know, the ones people left for Abs, and I found this. What does it mean?” He explained, slightly rushed and shoved a piece of paper into your hands with worry written all over his face. “Did someone hurt her? Take her from me? Why?”

Your eyebrows furrow as you look down at the slip of paper in your hands, looking back up at him confused. “What is it?” 

“Read it, It’ll make more sense if you see it.”

Doing as you’re told, you don’t have time to acknowledge the small fact that your hands start to tremble as you unfold the little note with caution. Your lips part, body tensing as your eyes widen as you read over the note slowly. Not fully understanding. “Someone put this here?” You asked, voice cracking. “When?”

“I’m not sure, so many people have been leaving notes. I wouldn’t have been able to catch who.” Jerry shook his head, and gripped the edge of the table tightly. “If someone’s hurt her, m’gonna kill them. M’gonna kill them, Y/N”

“Not before us,” You murmured, already looking around the room. “Who was in charge of the box?”

“Me, and a couple of others, but this is the only bad one.”

“You’ve looked at the rest?”

“Of course.”

“Alright, put it somewhere else, out of sight from everyone. If this is the only bad one, then it’s possible they’re just trying to scare us, making up a lie about what’s happened to her. She’s fine, okay? Abby is strong, and we’re gonna find her.” You nodded. You weren’t sure who you were trying to reassure more, you or Jerry? Both of you? The whole town?

“What are you going to do?” He blinked.

“Figure it out. That’s what m’gonna do.”

The night rushed along slowly as you, and a bunch of others made your way out of the bar, cigarette hanging between your lips and a cold beer in your hands. The note played on your mind angrily, eating and chewing away at your brain, almost trying to claw its way out of your head as you inhaled hit after hit of your cigarette. Who here hates Abby enough to hurt her? Take her away? She was nice to everyone, always offering to help someone who needed it, never letting the older people carry stuff too heavy, Abby wouldn’t hurt a fly, so why would they feel the need to hurt her? Take her away from where she loves? From the people she adores? It doesn't make sense. 

The longer you stood there, practically taking Ellie’s thought into consideration, pulling out cigarette after cigarette, the darkness seemed to loom and lurk more creepy than any other night. Almost like it was mocking you, judging you from afar as you tried to wrap your head around everything. Even the journal pages still don’t make sense to you and it’s been over a week since the first. It’s like she left, and suddenly you’re trying to figure out a really fucked up riddle in order to get you prize, the prize being Abby once everything slots into place like a puzzle.

“Let’s get you home, Honey. Night time around here has become a little scarier than before.” You spot a mother wrapping her daughter up on her scarf and jacket before holding onto her hand tightly after she places a kiss on her forehead. “Stay close to Mommy and you’ll be okay, alright?”

You wish Abby stayed close to you. 

You watch the family walk away down the path, the lights casting a shadow around them. Like a possessed child, the shadow like a demon hanging on by a thread as they were no longer in your peripheral each step they took until they were around the corner. Gone just like Abby. 

As you dropped your cigarette on the ground, you caught something behind one of the trees when you looked back up, lurking in the darkness and your body suddenly tensed on the spot. Did Abby feel like this? Did she feel like her entire soul left her body when she knew someone was watching her? Following her? 

“Hey!” You shouted, dropping your bottle in the process as you walked over to them, or trying to. It seemed like you had slightly spooked them, not aware you were staring right at them. “Hey!” This time you started running as you saw the rustle of the leaves, the snapping of twigs under their feet. “Stop running away!” You called out, pushing the branches out of your way. 

Were you really doing this right now? Running after someone who could easily just kill you?

In your eyes, you could see the outline of their figure under the moonlight, shimming between trees, jumping over tree’s that’ve been left to fend for themselves over the years, and even though the pain and burn in your legs were starting to ache more and more the longer you ran after them, you couldn’t stop. You needed to do this no matter the outcome. “Stop running away from me!” You shouted, jumping over the same tree as they did. “I just want to talk! That’s all! Stop fuckin’ running!” You huffed.

You didn’t see the branch hanging in front of you, or the rock on the floor, not until tripped, your face smacked into the branch harshly and landed on the floor with a loud thud. “Fuck,” You groaned, cupping your nose quickly with a wince. “Fuck!” You yelled, spitting out the dirt. 

Rolling yourself over slowly, you puffed out a sigh as your eyes fluttered open; the midnight sky lurked down at you, almost inviting it to eat you whole. If it could reach out and grab you, you would be the darkness’s first victim. The chitter of insects in between the long grass had your ears perking up as you sat up. Cupping the back of your head, you hissed and screwed your eyes shut tightly and pulled yourself up off the floor. 

Looking around, even though it was no use and they were probably gone already, you stumbled towards one of the trees and leaned against it tiredly. But all things turn you angry at some point. 

All you could really think about the fact you still hadn’t found Abby the longer you slumped yourself there, and that was enough to anger you enough until you repeatedly punched at the oak, over and over again until your knuckles were completely red, bits of wood stuck in your skin, but you didn’t care, if you don’t have Abby, what was the point?

“Fuck you!” Your scream echoed eerily.

The flap of bird wings rang out loudly around you.

It took you an hour to trek back to the town. You held your hand against your chest, your nose stung like a bitch but this was the last thing on your mind as you stumbled your way through the crowds of drunk people, not giving you a single glance or worrying about the fact your nose was still bleeding, you probably broke a few knuckles. “Jess, have you seen Y/N?” You heard Ellie’s voice but couldn’t see her. 

“Y/N? No, I haven’t seen her for a couple hours, now that I’m thinking about it.” 

“Shit, alright, uhm,” 

The sound of loud crashing caused both of them to look straight at you as you stumbled over one of the tables. “I think we found her?” Jesse laughed.

“Shit, Y/N?” Ellie’s eyes widened at the sight of your bloody nose and rushed over to your side; not before watching you struggle 4 times to stand on your feet. “Fuck, what the fuck happened to you?” She scoffed, pulling you up carefully.

“Someone,” You groaned and slumped your head against her shoulder. “Someone was watching, through the trees, ran after them but hit my head, broke my nose, I think? And then I lost them, so I punched a tree, I think my knuckles are broken.” You explained with a slight slur in your voice. “But m’fine, just need to sit down for a second.”

“That’s a lot of I thinks, we can’t leave you alone for five fuckin’ minutes.” Ellie muttered under her breath and wrapped her arm around your waist tightly. “Let’s get you to mine, Joel’s out with Tommy so he won’t ask questions.” 

With the help of her and Jesse, you made it to Ellie’s house in one piece, well minus your dignity that the tree smacked out of you, but you still made it without another fall. They had managed to patch up your knuckles, and stopped the bleeding of your nose, ignoring every curse and wince that fell from between your bloody lips; telling you that it was your own fault for going without some kind of help or backup. “So who did you see?” Jesse asked, dropping the dirty rags in the bin and turning to face you again.

“I was drinking my beer, and then I saw someone behind the trees, if this is the same person who was watching Abby, I can tell you it would have freaked anyone out—”

“Says the one who ran after them.” Ellie scoffed from beside you.

“You were talkin’ to Dina, and Jesse was, well Jesse was where he usually goes, which is where? I don’t know.” You glared at the pair of them. “But m’here, no?”

“Luckily.” Ellie sighed and pulled the tissue from out of your nose carefully. “What if something else seriously bad happened to you? And no one was there to get you?”

“M’not going anywhere—”

“You don’t fuckin’ know that! You can’t just disappear without telling one of us. That’s not fair.”

The panic and worry in Ellie’s eyes is something you haven’t seen since Abby went missing. She didn’t talk about how she felt, but her eyes and face did, which is why your shoulder sagged and you nodded slowly. “I know, El, m’sorry, okay?” You smiled sadly.

“For what it’s worth, this whole look—” She pointed to your entire face with a laugh. “Is so worth it. M’gonna tell Abby you risked breaking your knuckles and nose for her.”

“And she’ll ignore me for a week—”

“A week? She will ignore you for a solid 5 seconds before she’s asking you to cuddle her.” Jesse laughed with a slow head shake. “Did you find anything else out? Minus the dumb injuries?”

“There’s one thing Jerry showed me.”

“What is it?”

Reaching into your back pocket with a quiet groan, you pulled the slip of paper out and handed it to Ellie, who was watching you closely. “That’s all that happened tonight.”

Unfolding it, exactly like you did earlier tonight, Ellie’s eyebrows furrow into a tight frown almost and nothing comes out of her mouth when opens it and instead she looks back at you with wide eyes. “This happened tonight?”

“Let me see,” Jesse held his hand out and took it from her. His eyes widen too. “How didn’t we notice? How many people were going to that box?”

“M’not sure.”

Does a domino effect really have to happen in my life? You thought.

Ellie, who’s usually the one to be the first to ask what’s next, doesn’t do that, instead she looks at you and frowns. “You need to rest, If Jesse has to leave, I can figure out what’s next for this sudden murder club search party, but you need to get some sleep, and I won’t take no for an answer. Got it?”

“El—”

“I said got it?”

Slumping against the bed, you simply nodded like a lost puppy and folded your arms over your chest, completely forgetting about your broken knuckles you winced. “Fine, but if you find anything, wake me up, yeah? Please?” 

“If you’re knocked out cold, then no, but I will if you aren’t.”

“The tree already knocked her out cold” Jesse chimed in with a sudden laugh.

“Both of you go fuck yourself!”

Brenda, poor woman was reading through one of her own books, jolted in her spot and looked up when the bell on the door rang, and held back a sigh at the sight of you and Ellie stumbling in through the small door with curses and grumbles. “Brenda! My favourite lady!”

“Ellie, may I remind you of the time you almost broke my window? we aren’t even acquaintances”

“I paid for it to be fixed, didn’t I?!” Ellie moaned and kicked the floor childishly. “Can we look at that book you keep when people loan or bring back books? We have something we want to compare,”

“For?”

“Just something we are working on, please? It’ll only take a couple minutes,” Your friend begged, leaned over the counter and pouted. “I will even ask Joel if he will take you on that date!”

“Date?! Excuse me—”

“You’re in love with Joel, do this for me, and then I’ll get you that date with him”

“Fine, but don’t knock anything over like last time, It took me an hour to fix everything.” She scowled and walked away. 

“You’re the best!” Ellie shouted after her. 

The flight flickered on, and the sounds of loud banging could wake anyone up, even the small insects that lurk in the long grass outside in the wilderness. “Need to take these back, hope you enjoyed those pathetic reads.” They mumbled, snatching the books from the dirty floor and scoffed. “Don’t understand what’s so special about them or you. Also, I can't afford to borrow anymore so this is the last of them for you.”

Just as fast it went on, the light was gone and it felt even colder once the door slammed shut. 

Hunching over the counter, Ellie spots the thick yet old book and grabs it with both hands, a soft grunt slipping past her lips before pulling it over the counter and dropping it on the oak, the loud bang causing you to flinch and flick her ear. “Ow!” 

“That’s for trying to give me a heart attack.” You scoffed and slapped her shoulder. “So this was your big plan? Look through the names until one stands out?”

“Yeah or until we find one that matches, I guess?”

“Brenda, I know i’m late with returning these books but— Hey!” Mandy halted in her steps mid way through the door when she spotted you and Ellie leaning on the counter, looking through something. “Loaning another book, Y/N?”

“Oh, no not today, just finding something for Joel.” You lied, Ellie almost snickering behind her hand at your blatant lie. “You read them already?”

“Oh yeah! I had some free time after you left last night, really enjoyed them” 

“What was your favourite?”

The question caught her off guard as her lips formed into a pout as she thought about it. “Uh, I really liked Pride and Prejudice, the others were boring but that one was amazing.”

No one in this town apart from me and Abby love that book. You thought.

“Ah, well m’glad you enjoyed it. Do you still want to borrow my copy of the shining?” 

Mandy chewed her inner cheek before nodding a little too quickly and smiled again. “Yeah, of course! Those stupid neighbors finally stopped decorating so I can probably get a night in to read some of it!”

“Mandy, hello Love.” Brenda appeared with a mug in her hand and a plate of biscuits. “Returning them already? That was fast.”

Placing the stack of books on the counter, Mandy simply gave her a warm smile, one that was slowly starting to creep you out, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Can’t afford to borrow anymore for a while, my brain is fried with all the stories I’ve read this week.”

“No worries, Honey, just sign in the books you borrowed and they’ll be more for you next time when you do want to read again. Girls, can she use that for a second and then you can get back to whatever you were doing.”

“A date is on the line, Brenda, don’t rush me”

“I’ll rush you both out of that door,” Brenda smirked and the words died in throat once Ellie nodded her head quickly, picked up the book and practically shoved it in shocked Mandy’s hand with a stutter of words. “Thank you.”

“Do you have a pen I could borrow?”

Reaching for the one beside you, you hold it out towards her, which she takes with a soft thank you, places the book back on the counter and doodles her name onto the sheet of paper. “Thank you again, Brenda. You always have a really good selection of books!”

“You’re more than welcome, Love.”

“See you later, Y/N?”

“What’s happening later?” Ellie eyed her.

“It’s that party thing, dunno if m’going though,” You smile and shoved your hands into your pockets. “If I do, I assume you’re going?”

“Yes! The only time I get to be free and myself, I guess. So I’ll be there. If you do change your mind and come, I’ll see you there?”

“For sure.” Another tight lipped smile. 

Mandy took her leave not long after, leaving you and Ellie to your little search once more and Brenda took herself into a little corner of the shop to what you could only assume was to read one of her books. “Now that she’s gone,” Ellie trailed off.

Opening the book again, you brush your fingers down the list of people until it lands on hers; furrowing your eyebrows when you look at the book in front of you again, you lean your face closer and look at the signature a little longer, for far too long until you’re shoving your hand in your back pocket, rummaging around for the slip of paper you and Ellie took last night. “What are you doing?” Ellie laughed, watching you struggle.

Pride and Prejudice ………………………… Mandy ♡ 

“Look at her name,” You murmured, pulling the slip of paper out.

“Whos? Mandy’s?”

“The way she’s spelt it.”

Once you unfolded the paper, your eyes flickered between the slip between your fingers, and the name in the book, Ellie doing the same, having to lean over you. “Wait,” She paused, snatching it from you and taking a look for herself. 

Ellie looks at her name, and then at the note again;

ABBY DESERVED WHAT SHE GOT. ♡

“Did she just—”

“The fuckin’ heart, Ellie.”

“Wait, is she really that fucking insane?” Ellie looked at the slip still in shock. “Are you joking me? She’s been under our nose this entire time?”

“So, the banging I heard?”

“Wasn’t anyone fucking decorating that’s for sure.”

“Before we jump to conclusions, let’s just go get something to eat, m’starving, and go through what we have. Anyone could write hearts next to their name.”

“In the exact same way she does it? I doubt it.” Ellie murmured, tore the page out of the book quickly and stuffed it in her jacket pocket. Glaring at your stare. “What? Brenda won’t fuckin’ miss it.”

Shuffling out of the door, you and Ellie spot Mandy happily skipping away, and the sight has your friend scowling ad mumbling incoherently under her breath, “Why’s she so fuckin’ happy all the time? Has she never dealt with sadness or hurt in her life?” 

Nudging her shoulder with yours as you both walk, you shook your head. “Apparently not. Look at me, depressed as fuck.”

“Same,” Ellie looked at you before you both burst out into a laugh. “Man, if she’s somehow done anything to be the reason Abby went missing, m’gonna kill her. You know that right? I don’t care what you say, I’ll do it.”

“Ellie—”

“No, whoever took Abby from us, is going six feet under. You can’t stop me.”

“Let’s feed you, that monster is hungry—”

“Y/N, m’not joking, this isn’t a joke—”

“I know, and that’s what’s scaring me right now, Ellie.”

Pushing past you with a grumble at your words, Ellie’s quick to find a seat in the far corner, out of the way from people, and ushers you to hurry up. “I’ll be right with you, Honey, just have to get a few orders out of the way.” The old woman smiled from behind the counter.

“No worries!”

Unzipping your jacket, and placing it on the back of your chair, you sit down opposite Ellie and really look at her. She’s frowning, which means she’s deep in thought again, and that only means she’s planning something, something that you aren’t sure is supposed to scare you or make you happy. The bags under her eyes are much darker than they were last week, so that’s a clue she’s not been sleeping no matter how many times she’s told you she has been. Her lips are in a tight line. Even her smile lines are vanishing. “And then I think— Why are you lookin’ at me like that?” She mumbled, catching you staring. 

“S’nothing, you just look exhausted,” You offered a soft smile. “What are we eating?”

“I’ll just share with you, order whatever.”

Ellie was always a picky eater, well she says she is but always steals any of the food you make or buy, and went with something simple when it was your turn to order food; a bowl of chips, salsa and a chicken sandwich. “—And then we have the note, if that crazy psycho took the book out last week, then Abby’s alive, which means she has to be here somewhere, and we’re just not looking hard enough—”

“The woman at the bar, who got me a beer, told me that we need to look closer, so you might be right,” You nodded, munching on your chips. “She might know something, but doesn’t want to get too close to it, I don’t blame her, this whole thing has been freakin’ me the fuck out.”

“So Abby’s here somewhere?” Ellie took a handful of chips and ate them slowly. “That’s what we’re going with?”

“Yeah, but where? We know this place like the back of our hands. We would have found her already by now.”

“That’s where m’confused because I don’t know. I have no idea where she could be—”

“Y/N, Ellie! I’m so glad I found you guys!” Brenda’s voice rings out.

The pair of you turn in your seats, and look at her with your mouths full with food, and staring like a deer in headlights. “Brenda, miss us already? It’s been 30 minutes.” You coughed, swallowed your food and wiped your face. “What’s wrong?” You asked when you noticed her worried look.

“There’s something you need to see, I haven’t told anyone else yet, apart from you guys.” She rushed out, pulling a book out of her bag and placing it on the table. “I was going through them, like I always do just to make sure she didn’t rip any of the pages, some people have done it, and I found this.”

“Pride and Prejudice?” You blinked. 

“Just look at the back. please.”

Looking over at Ellie, who was just watching with confusion written all over her face and still eating, you open the book and skip through the pages, until you’re on the last page before the back. “Did you hide spiders here? To scare me?” You laughed nervously. 

“It’s about Abby.” Was all she could stutter out. 

Once the words fell from her mouth, your hands dropped the book on the final page, and all of you looked down at it. Staring at it like the horribly written words were going to jump out of the page and eat you. “She took this book out last week.”

M….Mandy

Crazy… 

Abby

“Is that—” Ellie swallowed and locked eyes with you. “She’s still—”

“Alive.”

“So what’s the plan?” Ellie mumbled into your ear, the 3 of you watching a very happy Mandy dancing with her friends, and snatched your beer from your hand. “We corner her?”

“Not here,” You shook your head. “Too obvious. She would see it coming.”

“You think she knows we know?” Jesse asked. 

“I don’t think so, If she knows that we know, I don’t think she would have shown up tonight,” You grabbed a handful of chips and shoved them into your mouth. “Besides, this way, we can observe her, try catching her saying or doing anything that could expose her.”

“We’ve been looking through so much shit for the last month, why can’t I just hit her?” Ellie grumbled and slumped in the chair like a scolded child with a pout on her face. 

“Look what happened to Y/N when she went against a tree,”

“Jesse! Stop bringin’ up that fucking tree.” You groaned and threw your head back.

“It’s funny!” He laughed. 

“Your poor nose didn’t think so,” Ellie cooed playfully and kissed your cheek. “Don’t tell Abby, she will actually kill me for that.”

“Leave my nose alone!”

Amongst your conversation with your friends, you hadn’t notice Mandy walking over to your table until she slid into the empty chair beside Jesse and that’s when all the laughter died down. “Who died?” She giggled, words slightly slurred. “I’m just coming to see how you are doing.”

“M’good,”

“Been better.”

“I think I’m gonna get another drink, Ellie? Y/N? You guys want anything?”

“Two beers!” Ellie cheered.

Fumbling with the bowl of chips, your eyes flicker between Jesse at the bar, and Mandy who was happily sipping her drink through a straw, not worried about the fact you were either about to lose your shit, or throw a chair at her. “So, how’s the search going?”

“S’fine,” You shrugged, not wanting to give her too much without her catching on that you knew. “Keep hitting deadends, but it’s fine besides that.”

“You’re smart, you’ll figure it out.”

Ellie makes a face of disgust at her, her need and want to just throw something at this girl gets stronger every time she opens her mouth with something ridiculous. “Is Jesse making the beers or something? Why is he taking so long?”

“Ellie, half the town is here,” You laughed and threw a chip at her. “Be patient.”

“It’s hard to have that when you live here.” She grumbled and leant her head on your shoulder. “Wake me up when he’s back.”

“You got it, El.” You laughed. 

You hadn’t expected her to actually fall asleep, but when you feel her body slumping more into your side not even 10 minutes later, you’re quick to wrap your arm around her to stop her from falling off the chair and onto the floor. Nor do you notice the look of annoyance on Mandy’s face, still sipping her drink. “I would have guessed Jerry would have been helping you search for Abby. Did you say that was her name?”

The question catches you off guard, slightly offended she even thought of it let alone asked it; Jerry spent countless months of time over several months searching for her. Never eating or sleeping, he stayed awake in hopes she would walk through the door at any given moment. “How long have you lived here?” You found yourself asking and cocking your head to the side.

“How long have I lived here? Oh, since I was like 8 or 9. Why?”

“Then you’d know we look out for our own. Same thing happened when a little boy went missing for 3 days when I turned 16, we all went looking for him and brought him home when we found him. It doesn’t matter if we have distaste or disagreements with someone, if something happens in our community, we help each other, we search, and we don’t rest until we find them.” You explained slowly, eyeing her up. “Jerry doesn’t sleep, just because you don’t see him asking every single person where his daughter is, doesn’t mean he’s not looking. Jerry would kill everyone in his way to get to his daughter. That’s how much he gives a shit about her. We all do.”

“Would you?” It’s like your words didn’t phase her. 

“Would I what?”

“Kill someone to get her?”

Looking down at Ellie, your eyebrow raises just slightly, and it’s back to normal before she can blink and when you chuckle, her skin crawls. “S’not me they should be worried about. When we find whoever took her, m’gonna have to keep Ellie on a tight  leash or she’ll be like a rabid dog looking for something to chew,” You paused and inhaled deeply when your eyes met. “But I would, if you want the truth. I would kill anyone if it meant I could have Abby back.”

“Do you have it in you?”

“If the right person fucks with my family, yeah,” The smirk you gave her caused Mandy to shift around in her seat comfortably. A sense of terror seeps into the cracks of her skin and travels up her spine. “I wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet between their fuckin’ eyes, unless Ellie gets to it before I do.”

“Make it seem like a horror movie.” She giggled.

“I think we’re scarier than anything in a horror movie you’ve seen before, Mandy.”

On a note, she hadn’t realised or seemed to have noticed just how bold and eerie you got when you would bluntly stare. Like Ellie, Mandy never understood what you were thinking about when sitting there, zoning out like a zombie. At some points she expects to start seeing cartoon bubbles with those pictures appearing by the side of your head. “What’s the scariest movie you’ve seen?”

“The life m’fucking livin’. That’s what.”

“Your life isn’t that—”

A tray of beers enters your vision as you look up to find Jesse side eyeing Mandy, and then looking at a sleeping Ellie on your shoulder. “At least she’s sleeping. What were you guys talking about?” He asked, wrapping his lips around the bottle and gulping down the liquid.

“I was just telling Mandy that m’not afraid to kill whoever took Abby from us.”

“Remember when you tried to kill that guy who stole your chips a while back?” Jesse smirked, subtly waiting for Mandy’s reaction.

“For stealing chips?” She choked out, pushing her chair out, picking up her almost empty glass and rising to her feet. 

“Oh yeah, the guy’s terrified of me.” You smiled. 

“I would have been too if you tried to kill me for taking your chips. I need to get another drink. Speaking of, do you want more chips?”

“You’re alright, your friends look like they miss you”

“They’re all drunk, but I’ll see you.”

Once she left, you finally let out a laugh. “Really Jesse? When did I try to kill a man for stealing my chips?” You shook your head and took your beer. 

“I tried to see if it would get a reaction out of her, not sure if it worked though,” He shrugged, once again taking a longer glance at Ellie. “Has she been asleep for a long?”

“Not a long time, but she just fell asleep when she came over here, I thought she was joking until she practically fell into me and I don’t have it in me to wake her up, not when she’s barely slept much since we started all this.” You murmured and rubbed her back slowly.

“I can hear you both talking, stop being so loud.” Ellie grumbled against your shoulder and peeled her eyes open slowly. “Is she gone? Can I get the fuck up now?”

“Were you fakin’ that?” Your hand slapped the back of her head gently; which she laughed at when she sat up completely. “After tonight, you’re getting at least 15 hours sleep.”

“Says you, you haven’t slept in like 10 years.”

“I take naps when needed”

“Not enough, those dark circles under your eyes finally match that bruised nose.”

“Enough with my nose! And the tree!” You warned when Jesse opened his mouth. “Let me live it down for fuck sake.”

“I don’t think I can, the story was hilarious,” The brunette smirked, hands running down her face as she yawned into the palm of her hand. “So, did she start freaking out when Jesse said you tried to kill someone?” 

“Not like we hoped.” 

Once the clock hit 11pm, Ellie was the first to notice Mandy slipping out of the doors, with a few of her friends following closely behind. “She’s leaving, let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“Following her. She wrote the note, she doesn’t fuckin’ read books, she can’t even read the fact you aren’t interested in her, and she’s obsessed with you for a reason none of us know. She knows something, if you don’t want to follow her, I’ll go alone.” Ellie rambled on and she jumped to her feet. 

“Like fuck you’re going alone. Jesse open your mouth about a certain something, I will hit you.” You warned again, looking at him with a harsh glare. “Not a single word about it ever again, you guys got it?”

“I was just going to say that Abby owes you two kisses for the black eye you got.” He smiled innocently. “Risked your whole face for her. Props to you.”

“Can we talk about you and Abby flirting after?”

“Right, let’s go then.”

You kept your distance, not wanting to give anything away. A part of you did feel slightly uncomfortable with the fact you were literally following someone, but the other part of your brain was screaming at you. She knows what happened to Abby. She knows something. It wasn’t like you could ignore that gnawing feeling in your mind. “What are we going to do if we find something?” Ellie asked, huddling close to you.

“I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it?” You murmured with each cautious step. “If she’s as crazy as that note proves then we can’t just throw ourselves at her and attack her.”

Hiding behind the tree when she suddenly drops her purse, Ellie grabs onto the back of your shirt tightly as you all watch Mandy scrambling to pick it up and stumbling her way up the path towards her house; almost tripping over in the process and if it wasn’t for the fact your hand quickly came up and cupped Ellie’s mouth, the laugh she let out would have gotten you all caught. “Shut the fuck up.” You warned.

“Yes, Boss.”

“Ellie’s gonna be the reason we all die.” Jesse grumbled, sneakily running over towards the other tree that was closer to her house. “I think she’s gone in the house now, you can move.” He waved you over, still looking at the window.

“Don’t laugh, or you’ll get us caught.”

“God, I won’t laugh again unless she falls out of the fuckin’ door.” Ellie grumbled from behind you, still using your body as a shield. “Or hits a tree—”

“Ellie, I will tie you to a tree and leave you out here. I said don’t bring it up.” 

“C’mon, you and that tree have a pure love relationship now.”

“M’gonna tell Joel about what you did with that girl behind his house if you don’t shut your mouth right now.” You warned, turning to look at her.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would, now shut the hell up.”

Stalking up the steps quietly, you keep your hold on Ellie tight when she stumbles up one of the steps and Jesse was the one who had to place his hand over her mouth this time when she went to yelp. “Do not get us caught, Ellie, I’ll never forgive you.”

From here, you could see Mandy in the kitchen, filling her glass up with whatever she chose to drink tonight, taking a sip as she leant against the counter and her shoulders sagged. That sudden loud banging had you all flinching in your spots and Mandy straightened herself up. “Quit it! You do that all the fuckin time, it’s driving me nuts!” 

“She’s already nuts,” Ellie’s voice muffled behind Jesse’s hand. 

“Should have killed you when I had the damn chance, but no! Everyone gives too much of a shit about you!”

Carefully, without dropping Ellie or causing Jesse to fall over, your hand lightly grips onto the door handle, squeezing your eyes shut tightly as you turn it just enough to hear a soft click. “Let’s go.” You whispered, removing your hold reluctantly and stood up.

Pushing the door open wildly, Mandy stumbled back, almost falling over the table when You, Ellie and Jesse stormed in through her front door. “Y/N?”

“Where the fuck is she!?” You’re suddenly in her face in a flash and fists balled up by your sides. 

“What happened to not throwing ourselves at her and attacking her?” Ellie grumbled quietly from beside Jesse under her breath. 

“I don’t— I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mandy stammered, eyes wide and glossy.

“Oh, you don’t?” You laughed sarcastically and shook your head. “You know exactly what m’fucking talking about.” 

“I really don’t—”

“You can drop the innocent act, you insane little bitch.” Ellie seethed from beside you.

“Y/N, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mandy sobbed, backed into a corner and not knowing an escape route.

Her breath hitched and she gasped when you’re suddenly gripping her face between your hands tightly; looking down at her angrily. Angrier than she’s ever seen before. “No? Then fuck what fuck is this?” 

The sheet of paper hits her square in the chest, and Mandy scrambles to catch it, her shaky hands fumble to open it, and as her eyes catch onto what’s on the page, you finally see the way her jaw clenches and her face relaxes. “She never deserved you,” She scoffed, finally letting her guard down. “That stupid little bitch deserved everything that happened.”

“The fuck did you say?” 

“She had it coming. If she didn’t keep taking you away from me, telling you to ignore me, blowing off our dates—”

“We went on one date!” 

“A date she kept telling you to miss, always listening to her, doing what she tells you, with her out of the way I could have you to myself.” She grinned.

Leaning closer to her, you laughed in her face. “You still have nothing,” You murmured with a grimace. “This makes me hate you more.” 

“No you don’t, you don’t hate me.” Mandy shook her head and plastered on a smile. “No,”

“Are you fucking stupid?” Ellie blinked, eyes going between you and then Mandy. “You’re fucking crazy, obsessive, who would love that?”

“Dina loved you, didn’t she, Ellie, takes one obsessive bitch to know another?”

“Hey,” Jesse warned, stepping in front of Ellie. “Keep her name out of your mouth.” 

“Ah yes, Jesse, the other one. How does it feel knowing she loved you both yet still broke up with you when she had her fill?” 

“Shut the fuck up,” 

“Where is Abby?” You glared and gripped her face harder. “Tell me where she is!” 

“She’s gone! She was never here, I took care of her for us!” 

“There is no us!” 

The fact she’s not getting it makes you more angry, angrier than when you found out Abby went missing. “But, I did this for you? Why can’t you see that? Why can’t you see I do everything for you?”

“I didn’t ask you to take my best friend away from me! I’m asking you to give her back to me!”

“She’s not here! Why would she be here?!”

“Do not let her move,” You told them as you slowly took a couple of steps away from her. “If either of you let her walk out that damn door, m’shooting you both.” With the stare you were giving them, they both knew you weren’t kidding. You were scary when you were angry, that’s not a secret. 

Wandering into the living room, the same one you ate fucking dinner in, you halted in your steps with your arms folded over your chest. You weren’t sure what you were looking for, but as you glanced around the room, you couldn’t exactly find anything out of the ordinary, or even remotely suspicious. Maybe you had gotten it wrong? You were so sleep deprived that anyone could have written the note, Mandy can’t be the only one to write hearts next to her name, right?

You were about to give up on this crazy plan; the crazy plan of yelling and screaming at Mandy until she told you what you wanted to hear, when the faintest scraping sound had caught your attention. It wasn’t loud, but it was loud enough that you could hear it from where you were standing. Your eyebrows furrow and your body turns just slightly, head pointing in the direction of the cabinet opposite the bookshelf. “What’s that noise?” You asked to no one in particular.

“What noise?” Ellie quipped, cautiously keeping her eyes on Mandy, who was still slumped against the counter, and occasionally over to you where you stood. “I don’t hear anything—”

There it was again, the slight scraping sound, but only this time it’s a little louder. 

Before you could take another step towards the cabinet, Mandy was suddenly moving around and pushing herself in front of you, but you weren’t focused on her face, no, you were more focused on the gun pointed at your fuckin’ face. “I can’t let you go through there,” She chuckled and rolled her eyes. “If you just stopped looking, stopped asking people, begging people for help, then this wouldn’t be happening. I did this for us, for you, why can’t you see that?” 

“You took her from me, from us, why would I love you for that?” You scoffed, stepped a little closer. “If you’re gonna shoot me because I want to find her, then don’t be a goddamn pussy and shoot me.” 

“S…Shoot you?” Mandy stammered, quickly shaking her head. “No! No, I don’t want to shoot you, I love you!” 

“Y/N,” Ellie warned, trying to figure out a way to help you, get you away from her. “Y/N.”

“Let me have her, that’s all I want, please just— I need Abby, please” You begged, eyes fluttering closed as you felt the cool metal on your skin. “I just want my Abby back.” 

“There’s no Abby left to bring back.”

“I really hate when people lie to me,” You whispered so quietly that she almost didn’t catch it. “Liars are one of the worst things in the world, stop trying to piss me off even more.”

You’re not sure what happens, one second you’re all standing there, and the next Ellie’s jumping at her, putting herself on the line to simply help you. “Ellie!” You growled, watching her practically pushing Mandy onto the floor, the gun still safely in her hands.

“Now is really not the time to question what m’doing. Go get her!”

Quickly, you manage to rush around the commotion, and slip back into the kitchen; keys, surely she keeps keys around here somewhere right? The kitchen is cold, plates in the sink that haven’t been touched in weeks, and your mind starts to wonder again as you look around. Could Abby really be here? Locked away without any sunlight? What if she was here but it’s too late?

Pulling open one of the drawers, you let out a sigh of relief once you spot a set of keys, way too many now that you look at it. Who needs that many if they don’t have secrets they’d rather stay locked away? Snatching them up and slamming the drawer shut again, you stumble your way out of the kitchen.

Jesse’s already pushing the cabinet away, a metal door hiding and tucked away perfectly behind it, when you also happen to glance over to see Ellie was standing over Mandy as you walked back into the living room, the gun now in her hands. “Go, I can look after Ellie, make sure nothing happens.” He groaned, slumping against the wooden cabinet. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, go!”

With trembling hands, one by one, you slot the keys into the lock; cursing and muttering under your breath when certain ones don’t unlock it. By the 7th key, the lock falls and you suck in a deep breath. Anything could be waiting for you on the other side of that door. Your life is already on the line, what’s one more to the list? So with a final sigh, and groan, you pull down the handle and pull the door open. The loud screeching of metal rings through your ears and sends a shiver down your spine.

The coldness washes over you quickly as you look down at the steps leaning into the basement once the doors open. You glance over at Ellie, Mandy’s still kicking at her legs, trying to get up and you send your friend a reassuring smile before making your way down into the dark and eerie room.

There’s no windows, you notice that quite quickly first, they’re all boarded up. No one would hear you if this entire plan goes to shit, Mandy somehow locking you up in here. Not a single living soul outside of this house would be able to hear your screams and cries for help. Not even the animals or insects living right beside it.

Tucking the keys in your back pocket, you step off the last step and release yet another sigh. It’s colder down here than it was opening the door, you think to yourself. To your left there’s a table with an endless supply of books, weird. Moving towards them with caution, you’re quick to pick up on all the torn up papers, the pens scattered along it. Picking up one of the notes, you’re in no luck when you find there’s nothing on there, yet another mystery in your endless supply of wonder. 

To your right there’s another small room. You look at it for longer than you like, wondering who would need two rooms in one, until the gentle scraping catches your attention again as you went to turn around. It sounded like chalk on a chalk board, that’s the best way you could describe such a sound, maybe it wasn’t exactly lose to what you can imagine, but it’s the best you got. 

As you got closer, you noticed the smaller padlock on the door, keeping whatever’s hidden, hidden.

Pulling the keys out of your pocket, you’re shaking even more when you look through them to find a key much smaller than the other ones, one that’s dainty and could hide anywhere if it tried harder enough. 

The lock drops and you start to notice your hands haven’t stopped shaking, but now it’s starting to get uncomfortable, and uncontrollable for you to deal with. Sliding the lock, you press your forehead against the door and take a deep breath. Was this how it ends? Was this going to lead you into yet another deadend? Was Abby really gone and you were going to be stuck down here with some crazy psycho? 

“Let go of me!” You heard Mandy scream from above you. Ellie’s words being screamed angrily right back at her.

With a final sigh, you pull the handle down and pull the door open.

If Abby’s not here, and this is just me falling into a trap, let everyone know I tried.

It’s dark. You can’t see anything. Turning your head, you notice a small light switch just beside the door, covered in mould and dirt, probably not the best idea to put your hands all in it, but you do it. You flick the switch and the light loominates the room and that’s when you notice it. You finally see it. 

The figure curled up in the corner of the room, holding themselves until whatever nightmare they’re able to get out of. Taking a singular step into the room, you crouch slowly, ignoring the throbbing pain in your hand as you reach it out and gently touch their shoulder. “M’not gonna hurt you,” You reassured just before they flinch at your touch with a pained whimper head whipping around and tired blue eyes meet yours.

The sight causes your breath to hitch and heart to thump loudly in your chest.

“Abby?”

Jerry, who was smiling and cooking something for dinner as the music on the radio played quietly, almost fell to his knees the second the door opened to reveal you, Ellie, Jesse and Abby. 

“My girl?” He whispered, not wanting to be loud to the point it might scare her. “Abby,” He breathed out when blue eyes met him. “Oh, baby.” 

Guiding her towards the table carefully, you gently helped her sit down, but not before her hand tightens around your arm when you went to walk away. “M’just gonna run you a bath, you’re cold and you need to be warm, I’ll be right back, okay?”

Abby simply nodded slowly. Almost like she wasn’t even there. 

“Honey, I can make you something else to eat? You don’t have to eat this but,” Jerry trailed off, watching the way Abby’s simply still looking in the spot you once were, yearning for you to come back already. “At least drink something for me?” He frowned, pulling his hand back quickly at the sight of Abby flinching and pulling her hand away when his goes to touch hers. “I won’t hurt you, baby girl. I’d never hurt you.”

You come back no later than 15 minutes. To her that’s still too long.

Abby didn’t move an inch or speak once the entire time you left to run her a bath. She was still sitting silently on the chair, not touching the food her Dad had plated for her, and left the glass of water in Its original spot. “Abby?” 

Her head turned slightly, the most movement she’s done since she got home, and looked right at you. Her eyes looked dull, emotionless but stood up slowly when you held your hand out for her. Taking your hand, Abby doesn’t look back or spare a glance to anyone in the room as she leaves. It’s quiet, too quiet but no on can blame her, she’s been in a room for god knows how long, they understand that this is going to take some time to adjust.

By the time you made it into her bedroom, you’re quick to scoop up the fresh clothes in your free hand, the other still holding onto hers tightly as you guide her into the bathroom. The same bathroom that there’s a warm bath ready for her.

Placing the clean folded clothes on the toilet, you looked over at Abby, who still has yet to talk, was facing away from you, looking at the water. “There’s clean clothes here, if you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask, okay?” You smiled. “I’ll give you some privacy, I’ll just be in your room— Abby?” Her hand reaches out for yours, grabbing you tightly and keeping you there when you turn around to leave. ��Hey,”

“S..Stay,” Her voice cracked, but kept her grip firm. “S..Stay, please?” 

“Okay, of course, m’not going anywhere,” You promised and cautiously stepped closer to her. “Let’s take this off, yeah? You’re probably not warm enough.” As you went to unzip the hoodie she was wearing, her hand stopped you again. “Sorry, habit,”

“It’s n..not the same,” A sob slipped out and she shook her head. “Not the same,”

“What’s not the same?”

“If I take it off, you’re g..going to find it disgusting,”

“I could never think that of you, Abs”

After a few minutes, Abby nodded reluctantly and let you unzip the jacket fully. It only took a few seconds for you to stop in your tracks and understand what she meant once the jacket was off and she was once again facing away from you. “Abby,” You gasped.

You remember the times you would spend laying on her bed, with her snuggled in your chest, and threading your fingers through her hair, braiding it, playing with you. It was all gone in an instant. Gone just like she had once been. This Abby was left fragile, so thin, pale and terrified. “I..I’m disgusting,” 

Walking around her until you were face to face, you held back a frown and gently cupped her face between your hands, your heart shattering into pieces at her flinch. “Won’t hurt you,” You whispered, wiped away the tears that fell and kissed her cheek. “You’re here with me, you’re safe, and I’ll never hurt you,” Slowly, you brushed your finger across her cheek, and smiled when she carefully leaned into your touch. “You’re beautiful, you’ve always been beautiful.” 

Abby doesn’t believe you, you can tell by the way she shakes her head, cries harder and holds onto your arms tightly. “M’scared, m’so scared.”

“I know, Love, I know, but I won’t let anyone hurt you again, I promise, I promise I won’t.” 

By the time Abby managed to get into the bath, with the help from you, she cried at every touch, rubbing her eyes harshly each time you rubbed the shampoo into her hair, mumbled about being sorry that she couldn’t stop squirming and with every reassurance from you that it was okay, it made her chest heave and cries louder. You didn’t ask her what happened, you know that when she was ready to talk about it, you would be there to listen. Guide and help her when needed.

Rinsing the final suds of shampoo from her hair, or what Mandy left of it, you smiled softly when her eyes fluttered open and found you. “Hi,” You pressed your forehead against hers and brushed your thumb over the side of her neck slowly. “You’re getting warmer.” You murmured. “We’re almost done.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, Love.”

Abby was clad in some of your old clothes, curled up in your side on her bed 15 minutes later. Her hand gripped the back of your jumper tightly, face buried deeply in your chest as you drew random patterns along her skin beneath your clothes. “M’glad you’re here,” You whispered against her forehead. “I never stopped looking for you, I hope you know that. You can tell me what happened when you’re ready, m’never gonna rush you to talk about it, but know that we’re here for you, and we just want to keep you safe. We’re ready to talk when you’re ready.”

All Abby could do was nod.

The door squeaked and opened to reveal Ellie, clothes dirty and hair slightly ruffled, as she stepped into the room with a fresh plate of food in one hand, and a drink in the other. “Hey, Abs.” She smiled, placing both on the nightstand before sliding onto the bed beside her. “I know you might not be hungry but, I brought you some food, Jerry practically rushed me to bring it to you.” 

Abby curled more into you and buried her face in your chest with a smile tugging at her lips. “How is she?”

“What did you do?” You asked, ignoring her question and noticing the red stains on her shirt instead. 

“I took care of it, she won’t hurt Abby or anyone else again.” Ellies eyes didn’t leave Abby as she spoke. “Stop, I took care of it, like we promised. We keep each other safe.” She sighed once she noticed your look. “Abby?”

“Mhm?”

“Can I cuddle you?” 

Turning her head slowly, Abby looks up at Ellie for a couple of seconds before nodding. Lying down on the bed further, the Brunette carefully places her arm over Abby’s waist and cuddles up to her back, while Abby places her head against your chest again. “M’sorry it took so long,” She mumbled into Abby’s back. “M’so sorry.” She kissed her head and held her tighter. 

Leaning your head down, you pressed your lips against Abby’s forehead, stroked her arm comfortingly and smiled when she held onto you a little tighter. “You can sleep now, we’ll always keep you safe, Baby.” 

One secret revealed, another buried and hidden. 

[rubiehart]

A WEEK IN PREGNANT!READER’S OUTFITS…

this is heavily inspired by @princessbrunette’s original idea all creds to her!!

MONDAY

not a best start to the week - she gets dragged on a pogue mission by john b, too tired to even dress herself as she lays limp in bed, refusing, as jj tries to pull shrug her boots on her non complying form, mumbling an equally tired, ‘i know baby, ‘m sorry, but when duty calls.’ . he ends up carrying her to the twinkie - bridal style, whilst he whines sleepily into his chest, sleep mask covering one eye and hair still a little messy from her disturbed morning with her husband when she shoots john b a lethal look that has him rethinking if the lead really was worth it. she spends the whole 2 hour drive to the other side of the island curled up in the back of the twinkie in jj’s lap, sleeping.

TUESDAY

boat day to debrief the previous day’s discoveries, which of course she takes absolutely no interest in, stretched out on the bow with a fluffy towel provided by jj, lathered in sunscreen half-an-hourly by jj and hand fed sips of water, or lemonade, or fruit whenever she wants, because he still partly feels bad for yesterday, and she’s his pregnant baby mama, course he’ll do anything she asks. the whole scene is like a fuckin’ dream for him because she’s sat up in the sun, plump lips wrapping around the ice cold fruit from the cooler, sweet juice dribbling down her chin and between her tits, plumper from pregnancy, the sight is mouthwatering and john b has to keep smacking up the back of the head to keep focus.

WEDNESDAY

baby scan day - she’s a little anxious naturally, gripping jj’s hands in the waiting room so hard his rings leave indents on her soft palms. once they’re called back she’s still gripping his hands, and jj can’t stop grinning like an idiot at the ultrasound of their baby - who they find out is a sweet baby girl, and yes, he does cry when he finds out, because he knows she’ll be the best mama to their little princess - who he’s sure will be the image of her.

THURSDAY

john and sarah have errands to run on the mainland - so of course her and jj are on babysitting duty for their three year old daughter, they think of it as practice now they know they’re too having a baby girl, she puts the sweet girls in pigtails and jj carries her on his shoulders all day, his heart growing a little fonder at the sight of you playing in the sea with her, or sharing your ice cream cone.

FRIDAY

shopping day!! - jj got payed yesterday and he decides it’s been a while since he’s spoiled his girl, so he lets her drag him around the mall all day, buying anything she sees fit for their new baby girl who’s soon to be born - cute little sun hats, or anklets with ‘m’ for maybank on a little dangly charm. even splurges on a new lingerie set that absolutely breaks his bank - but he’s unbothered because the sweet pout on her lips when she’s under him later that night makes it all worth it.

SATURDAY

date night!! she’s a little sore and miserable so he takes her out to a little spot on the edge of the marsh, follows a crappy tutorial on how to make a bouquet and comes out with a sweet attempt, it’s not perfect but it’s the thought that counts and she still almost cries!! he also whips out two greasy burgers from the lace lined picnic basket he’d borrowed and she almost cries again because she’d been craving one all week. he might not to be a romantic but he sure knows how to make his baby smile, and of course he fucks her sweet and soft on the picnic blanket after her belly’s full.

SUNDAY

a lazy sunday in the maybank house - they wake up late and she rides him soft and slow, backlight by the morning sun and he swears he’s in heaven. once they decide to get up, she’s forcing him to make cookies but he can’t keep his hands off of her because he can’t ignore the sight of her peaked nipples under the thin fabric of her tank, or the outline of her chubby pussy, highlighted by the evident wet spot which gets her fucked slow and sappy against the kitchen counter. after the kitchen counter’s covered in flour and the cookies are cooling, he smuggles her back into bed and eats her out nice and slow, rubbing her vibrator in gentle circles against her throbbing button, grinning against the chub of her thigh each time she mewls out his name. it was a good week.

[navstuffs]

Emptiness

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x GN!Reader

Summary: You are dead, and Leon wonders why he is still alive.

Warnings: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH, long one-shot, leon is suicidial, suicide attempt!!, leon is depressive, MAJOR ANGST, abuse of alcohol, some usage of y/n, cigarettes/smoking, leon is a mess, SAD SAD SAD!!!, leon is suffering a lot, lots of pain, NO HAPPINESS!, dates in italic count since reader's death

Author's Note: idk, except i am sorry i like to make the characters i love suffer and share that on the internet? i made my husband read this, and he doesn't care about leon whatsoever, and he ended up upset for him at the end so you can imagine how this goes. i have more happy leon's fanfics, you can check it out here!

PLEASE, PROCEED CAREFULLY, AS THIS FANFIC DESCRIBES SUICIDE, SUICIDE ATTEMPT, DEPRESSION, AND ALCOHOLISM.

If you have been struggling with depression or suicidal thoughts, you are NOT alone! Here is a link for tumblr support for some helpful information, depending in what country you are! Seek help, you are loved, you are strong, you are wanted!

3 months, 27 days, 3 hours, 5 minutes

The first thing Leon notices when he wakes up is that he is cold. He isn't wearing a shirt, and for some reason, the blankets covering his body look dirty with some unknown substance. He groans, throwing the blanket on the floor. He still wears the jeans from last night, has no shirt on, and doesn't smell well.

The second thing he hears is his phone's ringtone. It had to be Chris. Or Claire wondering if he is alive. He sits up, his hand rubbing his face as a way to make the headache less.

The third thing Leon notices is his hand resting in the empty space of the bed. Your empty space on the bed. He gulps because he hasn't touched that part since returning to the house. He raises his hand as if Leon contaminated the area, the last pieces he had of you.

Leon glimpses under your pillow a very familiar black shirt. One of the ones he gave to you. Leon doesn't remember grabbing it last night. He holds it, checking if he got dirty, but the shirt seems clean. Leon takes the shirt to his nose, smelling it. 

His phone rings a second time breaking his trance. He gets up from the bed and sighs when he sees the nightstands filled with beer cans. You would have hated that.

When he finally finds his phone on the bathroom floor, Leon's headache worsens when he sees Chris's name.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck Leon, I was on my way to your house right now. You scared me, man."

"What do you want?" Leon isn't in the mood to talk, especially with Chris.

"Claire told me she went by your house last night, and you weren't there. She says the motorcycle wasn't there. Have you been drinking and driving again?"

Leon rolls his eyes. As if drinking and driving was a big problem for him now.

"Okay, mom, if that is all, then."

"Look," Chris sighs, and there is a long pause before he speaks again. "There is a mission. If you are still interested."

Finally, Leon thinks. He has been begging for one for weeks now, and Chris has always said "no," "next time," or "we shall see" due to his mental health situation.

"Yeah. When?"

"I will send you more details when I have it. Look, Leon, I just don't think you should—"

Leon hangs up without letting Chris finish. He scrolls through his lost calls, mostly all of them being from Chris and Claire. A few from Jill when she was trying to help. It got too much for her as well. Leon scrolls down even longer, finally finding your name.

Almost four months ago. Has it been that long? Two last calls.

As a ritual he repeats every morning, Leon clicks on your name, hearing the call go straight to voice mail. Precisely as he wanted.

Hi, this is Y/N, you tried to reach me, but I can't take your call now! Leave me a voice message, and I will contact you as soon as possible!

Beep.

-x-

 4 months

Jill Valentine is sitting in front of Leon inside the jet. She hasn't looked at him once inside the plane as they are being taken to a contamination site. Her eyes are distant, her form is tense, and Leon maybe thinks that time can't cure it all.

"Preparing to land," They hear in their radio communications. Leon rechecks his gun, wondering without significant interest if any of that would ever end. When he looks up, Jill is observing him.

"You ready for this?" She asks with a mild tone of curiosity in her voice.

You knew Jill longer than you knew Leon, actually. You were her best friend before becoming his lover. Jill had given Leon all the solemn talk of "Don't fuck up with my best friend, or I will kill you." After your passing, Jill had become somewhat like a ghost in his life. She tried, Leon wonders, if not for you, to give him support in the first two weeks, but Leon knew deep down she blamed him.

And she was right.

"Yeah," He answers.

Jill nods. The last time she had seen Leon, he was miserable. With the longest beard Leon has ever had, bloodshot eyes, hair a mess, drunk, and the smell of cigarettes around the house. She told herself she would try for you, but it wasn't easy to see Leon like that. And after she said you would hate it if he smoked inside their house and Leon grunted that you were dead and never coming back, she left without looking twice.

She never understood why Chris and Claire continued. Maybe because they knew him longer than they knew you.

The plane finally lands in a safe space, and they exit. It is in an abandoned industrial area this time, and they might have survivors who live nearby and might need help.

"Do not fuck this up," Jill warns.

"I won't."

-x-

1 month, 1 week, 2 days, and 5 hours

Claire Redfield is knocking on Leon's door. It is way past dinner time, but she brings pizza. From your favorite place. Claire knows he won't have eaten anything since Chris kept telling her Leon is losing weight. Since your death, Claire has tried to help Leon out as much as she could because she knows that is what you would have wanted, to no avail.

"Come on, Leon, I have pizza! I know you haven't eaten today!" She announces.

That's when her sixth sense starts beeping. All house lights are off, which is strange: Leon either left the TV or any light on. Leon didn't like the darkness. Claire tries to open the door but is locked. Leon never locked the door since he was back for this house. With her heart racing, Claire goes to her bag and grabs the reserve key. She shares one with Chris, and they both trade every week. Leon doesn't seem to care, not that he cares about many things lately.

She enters the apartment to complete silence. No sight of him anywhere.

"Leon?" Her voice is distant, as her hands are looking for her gun. Maybe someone invaded and got him? Perhaps something else—?

The air escapes from Claire's lungs when she sees Leon. Hanging from the ceiling.

"Leon!" She screams, running fast to hold his legs. She doesn't know what she is doing, she is calling for help, she is trying to get a chair, she is trying to hold his legs up so he can breathe. Claire doesn't dare to look up.

With one sudden decision, Claire gets her gun and shoots three times at the rope. Leon's body drops, and he is pale as a ghost. She kneels near him, feeling his pulse. There is still one, very light, but there is one.

Without thinking twice, Claire starts CPR, Stayin' Live by Bee Gees, in her head. She knows Leon will hate her for this, but she can't fail this. She would have hated herself, you would have hated her.

"Come on, Leon, come on." She begs desperately as she compresses his chest with all her strength. When Leon finally breathes, a small vigorous one, Claire is sweating on her clothes. She sighs, relieved, sitting down on the floor, drained.

She grabs her bag and finds her phone to call the emergency number, asking for an ambulance. That her friend attempted suicide. She gives them Leon's address, checking for his breathing. When Leon opens his eyes, he is confused. The last thing he remembers is kicking the chair away, the air escaping slowly from his lungs. He looks around, finding Claire's face in his peripheral view. She seems to be crying, her hands on his chest.

His blue eyes find hers, and Leon looks with hatred in her direction for the first time that Claire doesn't recognize him. She feels tears form in the corner of her eyes, and her lips shake, but she holds them back.

"I have called an ambulance," Her voice shakes, and Leon's stare carries so much weight that she must look away.

-x-

1 month, 3 weeks, 8 hours, 2 minutes. 

The hospital door opens, and Leon exits, carrying his duffel bag. After staying confined for almost two weeks, he inhales the fresh air. Those two weeks, instead of helping, just made him feel worse. Much worse. With no alcohol, no cigarettes, nothing, Leon had no way to forget. He woke up and went to sleep with your face on his mind.

Going through what he did wrong. What he could have done right.

He feels the pain sting his soul, thinking about your smile. Fuck, he needed a drink. He needed some sort of dubious mixed-up cocktail. The stronger, the better. When he looks to his left, he sees Chris Redfield standing.

Sighing, he walks toward Chris. Leon knows he won't be able to run away. Chris has a worried stare as he gets closer. To be honest, Leon thought he should have hated after what he did to Claire, but no, Redfield still manages to give him a small smile when Leon gets close.

"Hey."

"Who told you I was going to leave?"

"Mhm, the hospital? You are in my care for the next couple of weeks."

"I am going home." Leon starts to walk away from him, but Chris's arm stops him.

"No, you are not. As I said, you are in my care. And if I need to drag you to my car and make a scene in front of all those people, I will. What do you think?"

Leon hates how Chris can look like you so much regarding his care. Always to drastic measures, you both could say. Pretending to have given up, Leon holds his hands up as a sign of defeat and follows Chris to his car.

"Is...Claire okay?" Leon mutters as Chris starts the car. Leon can see Chris hold the wheel stronger than he should, but the moment passes, and Chris answers.

"She is worried sick about you. She has been...busy, that is all."

Leon knows that is a lie. He had seen Claire on one of the visitations day, and she seemed upset like she had been crying every day since she found him. Leon felt guilty Claire was finding him (he thought someone else would) and was outraged when she saved him. And he ended up lashing out at her. When Claire tried to argue during the visitations that is what you would have wanted, Leon roared that he never wanted to see her again.

To be honest, Leon is relieved. One less person for him to hurt. Chris, well, that one was hard. Leon knows he isn't giving up that easily. Especially after the last thing he said to you was that he would protect him during a mission.

"No, no, Chris, you don't understand, he bikes around without a helmet and thinks that is super cool? I mean, how old is he again? You better keep your eye on him, if I am not around. Got it?" You asked, winking in Leon's direction. He knew you were teasing him, but Chris's tone was serious when he answered.

"Loud and clear."

In the first three weeks after your death, Chris was there. He rummaged through the house, taking everything Leon could use to harm himself. Leon's guns were the first to go, Leon didn't know how he discovered the password, and honestly, he didn't care. He just woke up a day with them gone. Knives? Gone. It was like Chris was baby-proofing the house. 

Leon would have lost much more weight during that time if it wasn't for Chris insisting on him eating. Or hydrate. Warning if he got too weak to take care of himself, Chris would have made sure to strap him to a bed and kept him there against his will.

"There are cigarettes in the glove's compartment," Chris says, cutting his line of thought.

Leon looks at him with suspicion before opening. Chris wasn't lying. There is even a lighter there.

"You smokin' now?" Leon asks out of curiosity.

"No. I bought those for you."

Leon lights up a cigar, opening the window. The rest of the car ride goes silent, and when they finally arrive at Chris's house, he turns off the car, sighing.

"Look, Leon. I am not very good at this, and you know it. You will stay with me as long as you want, but I can't keep you a prisoner in my house."

Leon observes him, and Chris takes the courage to finally say it.

"No one wants you dead, Leon. What happened to Y/N, it wasn't your fault. And you need therapy."

Leon gives a humorless laugh, opening the door of the car.

"You are not bad at this, Chris. You are terrible at this."

-x-

4 months, 1 day, 5 hours

Ada Wong is good at her job. She does what she is paid to do when she needs to do it. No feelings attached, except, well, when Leon Kennedy is involved. It had been like this since the events during Raccoon City.

And then, suddenly, you appeared on his side during the events in Spain. You were something else, for sure. Standing by his side, remaining strong, although that was your first mission, or so Ada heard. And facing up her, determination in your eyes. Ada found you adorable, perfect for Leon. The loyalty, in your eyes, was something she could never demonstrate.

The man in front of her now was just what once was Leon Kennedy, her..."ally" from the other side. Ada had to admit she was shocked when she first saw him, barely recognizing him. Leon had big dark bags under his eyes, not as strong as he once was. And there was...no life in his once vivid blue eyes. Nothing.

"Ada Wong. Doing something for yourself again?" Leon asks, his voice monotone.

Ada was used to his hostility, mistrust, and even anger. But not that complete apathy, a complete lack of emotions. Leon Kennedy was dead, she was confident, and he died when you did.

"You know I don't share my secrets, big boy," She says, her tone the same as always. "But we can always find common ground, as we always do."

Leon nods, and Ada tells herself she shouldn't care, she shouldn't ask. But she has never seen it like this, and this Leon frightens her.

"I have heard about Y/N. My condolences."

Leon's eyes go wide with surprise. He looks at Ada as if she has just arrived from outer space.

"Is this one of your schemes? 'Cause if it is, cut the crap, I am not in the mood."

"It is not. I heard about what happened." Is Ada Wong really showing empathy? Leon blinks, surprised, but he shakes his head. No, it has to be one of her tricks. Since when did Ada start caring about him?

"Shut up, Ada. Do not mention this ever again. We are here for a mission, nothing else, nothing more. Stop pretending you fucking care." Leon's voice is low, and Ada doesn't say anything as she watches him walk in the dark corridor before her. She has known him long enough to know when he is being serious, and she knows he is threatening her life now.

Ada sighs. The Leon Kennedy she once knew, was gone. You left a carcass behind, a damaged man for the rest of his life. Ada still remembers the last thing she said to you, before she disappeared.

"You are truly special. Take care of him."

-x-

1 minute

"Is Mr. Leon Kennedy speaking?"

Leon stops when he answers his phone to a strange voice. 

"Yes? Who is this?"

"Mr. Kennedy, this is from McKenney Hospital. Could we speak with you in just a moment? Are you busy or driving?"

"No. Hospital, you say? What is going on?"

"We just need a moment of your time. Do you know Y/N L/N?"

Leon's heart starts bumping against his chest.

"Yes. What about it?"

"Y/N L/N was involved in a car crash today, sir. At this moment in time, they are doing surgery on them."

"What? No, excuse me, ma'am, this is some mistake."

The gentle voice behind the phone silences as she listens, Leon saying you weren't involved in an accident. It was impossible. You were coming to have dinner with him later, you were going to forgive him, you were going to be back together just fine. When Leon shuts up, the voice speaks again with much more compassion.

"You are tagged as their emergency contact, Mr. Kennedy. How long can you get in here—"

"I just fucking told you, lady, that is impossible, they are coming to have dinner with me, we are supposed to reconnect, and you aren't listening to me!" Leon screams the last part, punching the counter before him and making all the glass bowls in the counter jump. 

The compassionate voice waits to speak again in a much more determined tone.

"Mr. Kennedy, I suggest you come to the hospital, not alone. Come with a friend. We will answer all your questions and concerns when you get here. Just don't come alone."

Leon turns off the call, pissed. How can the lady be so stupid? He told her over and over again you were on your way to his house, your house. Leon had been cooking the whole night, preparing your favorite dinner. After that, he would never let you away from him ever again. He breathes deeply now, trying to ease the tremors on his hands, when he lets his eyes wander off to the TV, a news broadcast about a terrible accident that happened. Some drunk driver caused this accident that involved a with a truck oil tank, and five people were killed. Many injuries reported.

Without thinking twice, Leon grabs his motorcycle's keys.

He doesn't know how he got in one piece in the hospital. Something inside him tells him to call Jill, Claire, Chris, or someone, anyone, but he doesn't. The hospital's entrance is chaotic, with most victims being taken there since it was the closest location.

Leon asks your name to the front receptionist, and they say they are operating you now. The lady points to the waiting room area, where Leon waits. Leon had felt fear many times in his life, but nothing compared to this. He knew you were strong. Stronger than him, actually. You were brave. You were getting out of this.

Because he didn't know how to live without you.

Leon observed families getting good and bad news for what seemed an eternity. The death toll climbed to more two people, a mom crumble in the doctor's arms due to the loss of his son and husband. Leon was praying, begging for some higher force or anything for you to live.

He would never drink again. Leon Kennedy would never let the darkness inside him win and let you go. He would never doubt himself or his ability to love. No, Leon would love you even more intensely than he already did, more than anything in his life.

Leon takes a while to get up when the doctor finally calls his name. He feels sick, his stomach is twisting. He counts nine steps until he gets to the doctor, a lady with scrubs and an indecipherable face.  

"Mr. Kennedy, do you want me to take you to a more private room?"

"Tell me."

The doctor sighs, looking directly into his eyes when she says. 

"We did everything we could, Mr. Kennedy. I am sorry they didn't make it."

No. 

"I am sorry, Mr. Kennedy, I truly am."

No. NO! NO!

"Mr. Kennedy, please, don't, I am sorry. Can I get some help over here? Please, don't do this!"

It takes six or seven security guards to stop Leon from destroying the waiting room or even hurting someone. He is crying, he is begging, he is losing himself. It couldn't be true. It just couldn't. It was unfair: not after everything he had done or everything you went through together. He always told you he needed to die first because Leon knew damn well he couldn't live without you. Leon has a hole in his chest that will never close again. He feels someone pull his sleeve up, a pinching sensation, and Leon falls into darkness. 

[gwydionae]

Never have I been more grateful that time travel exists in the X-Men universe.

[billygoat26]

WHY

AM

I

CRYING

OVER

A

STUPID

ANIME

[tonycries]

We Neva Play!

Synopsis. Turns out, the “r” in rivals stands for “really good séx” when a mission becomes a little too hot to handle.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rivals-to-lovers, séx pollen, innappropríate use of jujutsu (like a LOT), pússydrunk Gojo, limitless, both are teachers, creampíes, oraI (fem), síxty-nine, banter, breaking the bed, FÉRAL Gojo, pússy-slappíng, BRÉEDING, spítting, reader’s CT mentioned, Yaga’s had enough, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 6.3k (cries)

A/N. Lacked Gojo in the manga so I present to you more Gojo <3

“Gojo, I will kill you before that curse can-”

“Aw, man!‘ Yuji whines over Nobara’s cackles, reluctantly slapping a few thousand yen onto her outstretched palm. He thuds his head frustratedly against the cool vending machine they were crouched behind, “That was rigged!”

The girl scoffs, counting her hard-earned winnings victoriously, “I told you they wouldn’t even make it until the school gates before fighting. It’s not rigged, it’s common sense - not that you’d know anything about it.” Satisfied, she sneaks a look over the side of the machine at the shrinking backs of you and a too-happy Gojo Satoru. “Besides, we’ll get a rematch soon enough. My money’s on her, double or nothin’.” 

“You really think they’ll kill each other before the mission is over?” Yuji muses, eyes locked on Gojo’s infamous smirk - only widening the closer he drives you dangerously towards an aneurysm. “I bet-”

“No.” Megumi’s deadpan interruption startles them both. And as much as he’d like to pretend he wasn’t cramped with the two idiots stalking their squabbling teachers, he unfortunately, very much, was. “I bet ten thousand yen they kill each other before the mission is over. Or worse - end up dating.”

---

“A love hotel.”

“A love hotel~” Gojo echoes, with a hand clutching faintly at his chest. Swooning over you with each word, “Now, usually you’d have to take me out to dinner first, but for you I will make an except- mmpf-”

Now, Gojo knew he could’ve easily blocked your attack - hell, he didn’t even have to bat an eye to activate limitless. But where was the fun in that? Giving into your elbow digging sharply into his side, he’s only cackling at your venomous words, “I could take down both you and those special grades, y’know?”

“Oh yeah?” he hooks a long finger underneath his blindfold, showing off that infuriating wiggle of his snowy brows. “If you’re so great, then why did Yaga have you assigned with me, pretty girl?”

You sigh, rubbing your throbbing temples, “Only because someone-” And oh, if he had the most renowned eyes in all of jujutsu, then you had the most withering glare. “-completely skipped out on his last mission to stuff his face with sweets, n’ now I’m wasting my time babysitting. So this time, I’m in charge.”

Ah, a woman after his heart - in more ways than one, for sure. 

“Yes, ma’am~” 

Dramatically, he mimics the zipping of his lips shut, readily following you towards the flashy building standing out amongst the bustling Tokyo street. Walls painted such a suggestive pink, neon lights flickering special discounts at passersby - it would have almost been scandalous to be caught outside such an obvious love hotel such as this - if it hadn’t been for the mission, that is. 

“Didn’t think our first date would be at a love hotel.” he chuckles as soon as you reach the gaudy, perfumed reception. And that flickering, wide-eyed stare of the woman behind the counter is enough for Gojo to prattle on, “Now, tell me what room you want, honey-” Throwing an arm around your shoulder, you’re pressed helplessly against his toned front. “-they’ve got candy-themed, anime-themed- oh, they’ve even got a train station-”

“Best to keep our train station fantasies to ourselves-” You simper, subtly stepping on his foot with your own, but that only topples you against him. Instantly, another strong arm snakes around your waist to support your weight, as if second nature, “-isn’t that right, dear?”

And you swear, you could spot a tiny dimple when the ends of his mouth curl even wider into a saccharine sweet grin. “If my memory serves me right, you were the one that dragged me here. Isn’t that right, dear?”

Shivers run down your spine - ones he runs the soft, rounded pads of his fingers up and down along. You’re sure you looked like a disgustingly loving couple to the poor lady working at the counter. And to put her out of her misery, if anything, you recite, “A-anyways- apologies. Room 143, please.” Managing to plaster on a weak smile, it only falls flat when the receptionist hands you your key - and two complimentary condoms along with it. “I- uh- thank you?”

And it’s all you can do to not just shove off the 6’3 thorn at your side when he steers the two of you to the elevator with a disbelieving, “Only two?” 

Though, you’re sure it wouldn’t do much against him, anyway. It never has - because ever since you’d stepped foot through Jujutsu High’s towering gates as its newest teacher, Gojo Satoru seemed to make it his mission in life to get on each and every single one of your nerves. The only mission he’d willingly do, mind you. Insisting on interrupting your classes, hiding you little sweets in your office, pushing your buttons in front of-

“Well, that went as inconspicuous as ever.” Gojo hums, reeling you out of your little reverie. “Of course, it did, thanks to me.”

“‘Inconspicuous’ my ass.” you groan, hastily punching in the ground number for your room. Yaga had said that the veil was already completed around the entirety of the curse-infested floor by now, good - the faster you could get away from Gojo, the more intact your sanity would be. “If it wasn’t for me smoothing things over, she’d be filing a complaint against the sleazy man in a bad Kakashi cosplay at this very moment.”

“Hey! I didn’t see you putting on any Oscar-worthy performances. And my Kakashi cosplay is gre-”

DING!

The elevator doors open to a seemingly normal, barren hallway - not a hair or person out of place - though, you knew better. And as much of a fool as Gojo acted, he did, too. 

His steady arm drops from your side when you stretch out your limbs in preparation - shit, you forgot it was still there. “Watch and learn, Gojo.” you hum.

“Hell yeah, I’m watching.” 

A beat of silence. Two. 

With his thick blindfold, Gojo’s expression was almost indescribable - but your skin prickles with the slow, sultry sweep of his eyes down your figure. But before you can snap back at his loaded tone, it happens- “Don’t fall behind, sweetheart.”

Curses burst out of the fourteen heavy, wooden doors along the narrow corridor - some small, some big, all crushed easily under the power of your cursed technique. And neither of you had to utter a word to know you’d both be trying to best the other. 

You’ve got one slobbering mess of a curse trapped underneath your heel, locked in combat when Gojo calls out from somewhere across the hallway. “Still stuck on that grade one?” Your jaw ticks, pressing the curses face deeper into the carpeted floor of the bedroom, “I’ve already located one of two special grades- better keep up.”

Fuck, curse him and his six eyes. 

Not wasting any more time, you easily exorcize the remaining curse, feet carrying you door after door. Most of the infestation had been cleared out by now by the both of you, splatters of red and limbs lining along the hallway - you only felt bad for Ichiji having to organize a clean-up after this. 

The next time you saw Gojo’s flash of cerulean eyes was from outside another bedroom. Goading, “Heh, need a little help, Gojo?” 

“Oh fuck-” he wraps two arms around the special grade’s flowered horns. Powerful legs bowed, cloudy hair mussed, blindfold dangling somewhere around his neck - he was beautiful. And it was fleeting moments like this that you held an ounce of begrudging respect for him. Ripping those offending appendages, “-off. Roughed up the other special grade for ya since you were so slow, sweetheart - consider it a lil’ gift for this date.”

“Oh, fuck you-”

In the midst of it all, Gojo still manages to flutter his long lashes your way, “Well, we are in a love hotel, after all. Just say so if you wanna get those pretty hands on me.”

“I wouldn’t fuck you if you were the last person on Earth, Gojo Satoru.”

His loud bout of laughter follows you to the final hotel room - 143, coincidentally. It was decadent, almost-spotless - had it not been for the towering curse hunched over in the middle. You could tell that Gojo had been here, because its pink, scale-like skin was already bruised.

You slam the door shut behind you, better to keep the property damage to a minimum. Hastily getting into action - it wasn’t anything new, after years of exorcizing curses you’d grown used to predicting their pattern of attack. But it was only after a pressurized, finalizing punch of yours lands right on the curse’s thumping neck that you find yourself growing weary. Cautious of the tiny, red flower that’d sprouted out of thin air on its skin. Immediately, you think back to Hanami, because it was blossoming - unnaturally fast - petals unraveling to explode in sparkly pollen-

Shit. Your head whirled, eyes watery at the heady scent, “Wh-what the fuck-”

It takes only that split-second of distraction before more blooms pop! pop! pop! all down the curse’s figure. It just heaves with fatigue when they all burst out the same powdery substance from before.

“Fuck- what is this-” your thighs clench together, teeth clenched so hard it hurt. You stagger back towards your opponent, and it seems this last-ditch Hail Mary caused more damage than good. Because the curse was lethargic, barely even flinching when you’re back to pummelling it with your cursed technique. Again. And again and again-  “-if only you’d taken to making perfumes- instead-”

It falls to the ground with a last ringing screech, the flowers withering away instantly. 

But the damage was done.

And you’d never felt so drained - even after your most difficult of missions. Never sinking down onto your knees this way, skin heated, mouth salivating. The air in the room was just thick with something so delicious - syrupy, with hints of pine and cherry - traitorously, you find yourself inhaling deep, addictive lungfuls of the scent. 

“Smells so-” your brows furrow, digging a hand into the plush bed beside you to clamor back onto your feet. “Smells like-”

Gojo. 

Your entire body jolts with something so dark - visceral, gasping when you feel your underwear just drench. Mind such a melty mess filled with only Gojo Gojo Gojo - and before you know it, you’re stumbling towards the door-

Bang! 

The aroma only grows heavier near the door, blood thunders in your ear at the deafening crash from outside. Shit, had you locked the door- 

Bang! Bang! BANG-

Fuck, neither of you were making it out alive. 

It’s the first clear thought headlining through your mind for the first time in what feels like ages - only several, syrupy-slow seconds later does it follow up with the realization that you’re now standing face-to-face with Gojo. 

Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru.

Who looked absolutely crazed right now - teetering unsteadily on his feet, his head was bowed, fingers trembling. The mahogany hotel door in mere splinters under his hands.

“F-forgot you could teleport?” It comes out a yelp - pained, almost - and the very first note of your strained voice is enough to have his entire, powerful body wracking with a gasp. Goosebumps pricking along his milky skin, he finally - finally raises his eyes.

Shit, he’s finally lost it.

Because Gojo’s gaze was burning, lids hooded, dark pupils blown so wide that his eyes looked almost black. He didn’t look at you with that usual teasing glint, no, he looked like he was going to rip you apart. Twitchy, drinking in a shaky, drawn-out gasp of the scented air. You almost had half the mind to wonder whether this was some special grade masked as your coworker. 

But it’s real - it’s so, so real and you can’t deny it when he’s baring you with such a vicious grin. Plump lips pulled back to show off those glinting canines, “You.”

“Satoru.”

His lips are on yours - pressing and pressing so hard you were sure it bruised. But fuck- you’re kissing back - because how could you not? The candied seam of his mouth was addictive, breathing you in like his last breath of fresh air.  

“Kiss me-” he spits into your slack mouth, as if he wasn’t already. Two hands surging forwards to cup your cheeks even deeper, “Kiss me kiss me kiss- fuck-” That last little swear almost comes out as a whimper, and you can only keen when Gojo wraps his pretty lips around your tongue, sucking lewdly. “Y’smell so sweet- taste so sweet-”

“Sa-t-toru-” you’re managing out. It just then hits you how weak your knees have gotten, sinking down to straddle his muscular, jutted-out thigh. It makes him throw his head back when you’re just dragging your hips in a long, languid stripe. “Look what you’ve- what you’ve gotten us into.”

Pulling away to lick lazily up, up, up your neck, his teeth bite just at your thundering pulse. “Me?” he hisses out, voice a few octaves higher than usual. “You think I’m the one fuckin’ responsible for this?” It almost hurt - but it hurt so good. “I’m responsible for this-” And his startling eyes sink down to the darkening wet patch on the middle of his leg, your flimsy panties sticking to his uniform. “-am, I?”

“Yes.” your defiant fingers are trailing down the hem of his shirt, ripping apart those buttons in hasty, urgent tugs until it was off completely. “If only you hadn’t half-assed it with this special grade then-”

Gojo huffs out in humorless laughter into your lips - the same one he’d give a persistent little curse, and it makes your hairs stand on end. Wondering how high the kill count would really be. In the hundreds? Thousands? “I thought you were supposed to be the babysitter, huh?”

Millions. 

“And aren’t you the strongest?” A trembly hand of yours ventures its way down his flexing body - down, past those plush pecs, past his flinching abs, dipping teasingly just above where you could feel the hiking tent in his tight pants. “How did you end up this hah- bad?”

You’re holding back a groan at the long, solid inches straining to break free of his thick fabric, you could feel the rapid thump! thump! thump! of his throbbing length under your palm. Fuck, water was wet - Gojo Satoru, unfortunately, had a big di-

“You.”

It’s low, ragged - so quiet that for a second you think you almost imagine it. 

“You.”

His lips are sagging open once more, greedy gaze widening - and you knew it was glowing now. Tiny flickers of blue lightning flickering at the ends of his eyes with every mindless gyration of your palm down his bulging, clothed shaft.

“It’s all because of you.” 

Yeah, you would be lucky number one on his kill count when he breaks - or maybe he would be on yours

Your back is hitting the mattress, and the buttons of your poor uniform are hitting the velvety floor - absolutely nothing against the strongest, who was now tearing through your clothes the same way he was ripping apart those curses from before.

Shit- did he teleport you two?

“Don’t know-” Gojo pants out feverishly, and at that moment you weren’t sure if you’d simply babbled your thinking out loud or whether he could read your mind. “Don’t- don’t know- fuuck.” Low, feral groans crack at the back of his throat with each inch of your exposed skin, and before you know it, he’s surging forwards into the naked valley of your breasts. Breathing you in so filthily, “Just know that I need you- fuck m’gonna fuckin’ kill someone if I don’t-” 

Each spat out little word is punctuated with an intoxicated push and pull of Gojo’s hips. Angrily rutting in-between your thighs until it was just a clingy, syrupy mess of slick and precum between you two. 

“Oh-” your lips drop into a soft gasp, reaching out your fingers to smear a sinful sheen down them. It glosses all the way to your wrist with each newly beaded wave of his precum. 

It feels so dirty the way you’re pushing the very tips of your fingers into your mouth. Gojo can only look - can barely even breathe when you slur, “You taste so good, too, Toru.”

Oh, that was it.

Gojo Satoru had finally thought he was getting control of his sanity - he finally thought the effects of that cursed technique were wearing off. But now - at that little nickname - he feels something snap. The lamp on your right bedside table shatters.

And usually, Gojo’s taunting was tinted with a little laugh, an inkling of fondness in them - but right now they sounded pained. Wrenching out of his broad chest, “Fuck you. Need you- do you know what you’ve done.”

Your useless skirt - along with your soaked, see-through panties - are ripped off of your squirming body. And for once in his life, he’s speechless - eyes almost bulging out of his skull, nails digging into the plush of your thighs. 

Your clothes end up in a pile of sad tatters on the floor, and you felt a strange inkling that maybe you’d end up much the same. 

Smack!

Two, large fingers slap down harshly right on your drooling cunt, slobbering down a glistening coat of your pretty juices down his wrist. “Pay attention.” He’s pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your neglected nipples, your stomach, down, down, down in a flurry until the very tip of Gojo’s nose was nudging at your pulsing clit. “Because if m’losing control I need you to stop me.”

The dim hotel lights flicker when Gojo meets your cunt in a sultry, self-indulgent kiss. And through it all, one thing burns into your dizzy mind - his eyes. Maddened, gleaming with slight blue cursed energy in-between your legs. 

“Oh.” you’re gasping at the sheer burning stretch of your thighs being pushed to their limits. Gojo didn’t need that much space - he just loved the way you whined. “You’re s-so much better when you shut- hah!”

His tongue shuts you up by flicking harshly over your puffed-up clit, letting your syrupy juices slide their slow way down his eager tongue. “There we go- good girl, good fuckin’ girl. Hah- all it took was some shitty curse to get you hah- honest like this f’me, huh?” 

“Don’t act like- ngh!” you’re barely able to drawl the words out, which makes him grin a dangerously content grin. Sharp teeth clenching teasingly around your angry clit, throbbing and slicked glisteningly with his spit, “Don’t act like I’m the only one- this way- hah-”

It was true - every hollowed-out suck on your needy clit had him grinding onto the mussed-up mattress. Those silken sheets hiking up with every drag of Gojo’s weepy erection down onto the bed - imagining you underneath him. It wasn’t enough - it never will be. 

That realization was enough for him to break out into a drunken grin, hot tongue smearing open your folds over and over- “Yeah? What about it? Does it scare you that I want to fuckin’ break you, sweetheart?”

He was crazed. 

Dangerous. Depraved. 

“N-no-” you give such a harsh pull on his soft strands, he’s leering up at you with a dragged-out groan. Looking for the life of him so used - you just knew there’d be thousands that would kill to see the strongest so fucked-out, ear blearily blinking open, flushed your favorite shade of pink up to his cheekbones, mouth chasing those thin spit strands to your glossy pussy. “Jus’ think s’unfair how I’m the ah- only one havin’ fun right now.”

You’re shutting up his pussydrunk protests about how he is having fun and to “please, please, please don’t stop” by crashing your soft lips against Gojo’s. Wrenching him upwards, he lets himself be so used. 

“Need you-” you’re gasping, biting into his pouty lower lip. Nosing slowly up his bobbing Adam’s apple, you gasp in that heady combination of pine and candied cherry. “Wanna see if you hngh- taste as good as you smell right now.”

“No fuck- fuck you.” he hisses, wrangling you to straddle his angrily fidgeting hips. 

Running a hand down to fumble with his metallic belt - already loosened. But you don’t have the patience - or the sanity - for that right now, because you’re tugging, shredding. The tell-tale buzz of jujutsu fizzing at your fingertips when you tug down the entirety of Gojo’s pants. Kneading the soft peaks of your palm over that sensitive divot on his head, “Who’s fucking who?” 

“Me.” And there’s another smack! to the heated place of your cunt, Gojo’s own fingertips having you see stars with his power. 

He takes the distraction to just drag you upwards like some ragdoll, easily maneuvering you around. “Turn- turn around f’me- thaaat’s right, fuck-” You’re jostled until your shaky thighs straddle either side of his head, puffed-out pants condensing hotly against your cunt. Your own coming face-to-face with the fat head peeking out from the hem of Gojo’s boxers. Head swimming with how angrily pink he looked, already winking with a drenched sheen of precum up at you. “Arch that cute back a lil’ more- lemme see.”

You’re whirling your head over your shoulders to catch the fucked-out grin on his lips, dragging his tongue out to lap up every bead of your sweet sweet juices, he tilts his pliant head back against the pillows to let it slide down his bobbing throat. “Y-you’re really that pussydr- hngh!” 

Another branding smack! leaves you gushing even more down his tongue. “Yeah, s’what I fuckin’ thought.” he spits out a thick wad of spit into your messy cunt. Gliding his wet fingers over the dripping mess that puddles onto the his chest below. “-can’t even run your mouth- so desperate f’me. Taste so good-” Using his inhuman strength to haul you down onto his pretty face.

Before he knows it, he’s slotting the thin tip of his tongue past your quivering hole. Taking him so greedily, the elastic ring of muscle stretches all around his form, clamping down as if to milk something delicious. 

And Gojo knows - he thinks with whatever’s left of his rationality that maybe he should slow down, take a second to fuckin’ breathe. But, no, he’s making out with your ravaged pussy like he’s angry he hasn’t done this before - way back when he first met you.

A slender fingers pushes past your swollen folds to curl deftly into your gummy cunt, molding up into that easy divots at your walls. He’s feeling around so depravedly for your g-spot, aching to make you feel just a drop of the sheer need he does. 

“Fuck!” Your velvety walls come crashing down around his fingers, knuckle-deep inside your ravenously swallowing cunt. Only getting faster - dipping perfectly to press up against your spongy sweet spots. Shit, he really was good at everything, huh? “You’re so…”

“What was that?” Gojo’s tittering, “Can’t hear you over your cute cunt, sweetheart.”

You don’t answer - you don’t need to, because all the breath in his lungs exhale out in a low cascade. Hiccuping around your candied clit when you take Gojo’s thick, weepy tip just past your lips. Wrapping just around the sensitive slit, it makes him gasp, it makes him keen, it makes him spit out some sloppy swears into your cunt.

“What was that? Can’t hear you over my cunt, Toru–” you bat your lashes, humming around his velvety head. Fuck- if you were in any better state of mind you’d have taken longer admiring him.

Because he was so massive, so pretty with prominent veins thumping at the roof of your mouth. Girthy, rotund end a throbbing red, gradiating into a creamy pink that meshed in delicately with those neat tufts of white at Gojo’s toned pelvis. So delicious. Big enough that you were already wondering just how you were going to walk out of this bedroom - if either of you are in a walking state - or even alive - that is. 

“Fuck- fuck you little-” his mouth refuses to part with your puffy pussy lips, even if it was to talk back to you. “Don’t you dare fuckin’ think this is-”

The new angle has his sharp jaw grinding up into you, jostling your body up and down all over his face. He’s whining - heaving - at this point with every sultry swirl of your soft tongue around his twitchy head. Coating down every inch of your silky soft mouth with a hot sheen of precum, he tastes so good on your tastebuds - slightly salty, with a tinge of something so sweetly Gojo. 

Powers acting before him, he doesn’t even realize it before he cheats - just a little. Eyes burning with power when Gojo uses his six eyes to plunge scarily accurately into the plushy bullseye of your g-spot. Greedy fingers hitting it again and again and-

“Satoru!” your scolding tone has his globular tip twitch ferally into the back of your throat. “That’s not- I can feel your jujutsu, y’know. S-so-” 

“What? Good? Heavenly?” Gojo rattles off. You’re fucking your drooling pussy back into him - you can’t stop the mindless, shallow little grinds in an attempt to meet his mean pace. “Never said anythin’ about a jujutsu ban, pretty- you’re sounding like a sore loser to me.” As if on cue, your cunt is gushing out in more silken sweet juices all down the lower half of his face, squelching so obscenely. His droopy eyes admire your glistening cunt, riding his face to his insanity. “Well- not this cunt, of course, in fact- I think she’s gonna cum.”

He didn’t have to tell you - you already knew, with the trembling in your thighs, and the white-hot pleasure stemming from his incessant making out. Without answering, you only swallow up a few more solid, rock-hard inches of his painfully hard cock, lips stretched obscenely. 

“Y-yeah- fuck, now I definitely know you’re close, pretty girl-” he’s lolling out his tongue to let you drag your pussy across harshly. “Don’t be stubborn- cum f’me,” Rough patches of his tastebuds massaging you just right, fingers still pumping recklessly. “Cum f’me- please. Wan’ it on my tongue- want you- want you to use me- please.”

It doesn’t take long before you’re finally cumming, fucking your high over and over Gojo Satoru’s pretty face. He’s wrapping a free hand around the small of your back, just crashing you back into his drunk mouth over and over and–

“F-fuck, Toru–” you whine, toes curling with each crashing wave of pleasure. It was so violent - so dragged-out, like no orgasm you’ve had before. And you didn’t know whether it was because of the technique or the lazy drag of Gojo’s mouth all over every beading inch of your pussy. Your fist tightens around the thick, heated base of his cock, “Need- need you to-”

“No. Fuck-”

In the fleeting millisecond it takes you to blink, your front is being pushed back onto the now-damp sheets again, a grinning Gojo hovering over you. He looked so ruined - smile gleaming with your trickling, dripping precum, eyes crazed. Suddenly, you almost understand why every breathing thing fears him - almost. His eyes were blazing, flushed angrily. “I’m burning- think m’gonna die if I don’t fuck this cunt right now. Fuck-”

“Havin’ to use your powers for everything?” you’re quirking a brow over your shoulder. “Don’t tell me the only reason you brag about being so hah- good in bed is because of that?”

He’s narrowing his glowing eyes, tiny sparks of lightning flying furiously, “Ohhh s’that a challenge, sweetheart?” Gojo’s sharp canines tug on your bottom lip, and you moan into the messy clash of a kiss - all spit and teeth and the taste of you two. “Tell me.”

“So what if it is?” you’re managing to push back against his slender waist. “Without those stupid powers, m’the better…”

Whatever insult was on the tip of our tongue dies down at the glint of the foil in his hand - the condom from before. That tiny square looking so pitiful held between two fingers, “The receptionist gave me an XL, funny, right?” Gojo murmurs, so dark. “Such a shame it won’t fit.”

One daring glance downwards proves him right - because Gojo was sitting so heftily sandwiched between your swollen folds. Painfully beading needy pearls of translucent precum all over your front - fuck, your cockdrunk self from before didn’t recall him being so large. Big enough that you were sure any rubber would be on the verge of shattering into little pieces.

So then go in raw- you think. But before the words can tumble out of your mind, he’s giving a slow, slippery slide on your cunt, “S’alright- with these ah- ‘stupid powers’ m’still gonna get a taste of this pretty cunt.”

And then you can’t breathe - fuck, you can’t even think straight.

You feel like you’re being split-apart, because Gojo’s just barely pushing in the fat, round girth of his head. Managing to pop in his long shaft past that sensitive slit, before his body starts moving in hurried, impatient little grinds. Frantically trying to squeeze himself in deeper- “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck, even with limitless you feel so good, sweetheart.”

Limitless - fuck, that’s what it was. You could feel the slight pinch of the pressure around your body, the way he was reaching in so deep inside your velvety cunt despite not even being halfway inside yet. 

“Satoru-” 

“No-” his flickering eyes bore deep into yours. “Not that- call out f’me properly now, I know that smart mouth of yours can do it.”

Your words are barely a whisper, “Toru–”

The remaining lamp at your left goes out - cracking into tiny shards. And that’s all it takes for him to push and push in, distantly, Gojo knows he should slow down, maybe give you a second to relax - to think. But he could feel his sanity dancing away with every fucking inch fed into your sopping wet pussy, your elastic walls contorting to massage every ridge and vein of his so heavenly. Fuck- he’d fight a thousand more of those special grades just for another taste of this feeling. 

“Oh-” Gojo’s jaw hangs slack when he finally bullies past that feeble resistance of yours. The very top curve of his head nudging deeply in a glissading glide down your spongy cervix, heavy balls kissing against your ass. 

He lets himself be pulled, used like some filthy toy when your hot tongue cranes to lap up the trail of drool down the corner of his drunken mouth. 

“Wanna feel you-” you’re gasping through each thorough, steady ram into your snug channel. “Wanna feel all of you.”

Another memorable slap! resounds through the heady air, sending sparks exploding behind your lids. “Heh- s’this your way of hah- having me stop using my powers?” he chuckles. “I’m onto your dirty, dirty tricks, y’know.”

Truly, he wasn’t. Gojo didn’t think he had enough of his brain unfried to even contemplate that right about now. But it was just so much fun to watch you mewl in protest, your cunt dripping even further down his twitchy balls with each taunt. 

“Please- fuck m’burning up-” you spit. “Scared s’gonna have you c-cumming early?”

As a punishment - or maybe a little reminder about who really was the strongest, Gojo infuses his next sharp smack on your clit with an ounce of his jujutsu. The curve of his thumb gliding over in tiny circles to soothe over the buzz, “Talk to me when you can say “cumming” without hngh- stutterin’-”

“Talk to me when you-” Growling into the crook of your neck, it’s all he can do right now to bow his hulking body even deeper into yours, kneeing apart your stutteringly closing thighs. There’s a sloppy, milky ring forming where your folds kept smacking repeatedly against the sharp lines of his pelvis, “-can fuck me without your limitless going haywire.”

Fuck- fuck, how he wanted to prove you wrong. To have you crying out for mercy.

But Gojo’s throat drags out in what almost sounds like a cry when his limitless flickers on and off - just for a second. The mere touch of your slippery soft walls around his hot cock making him just slam down an arm on the headrest. It breaks - shattering into tiny wooden pieces, though, neither of you notice right now. 

He’s maneuvering the two of you so easily to push you onto your back. Stuffing your gaping entrance back full again, this time throwing your limp legs onto his broad shoulders to pummel you in such a mean mating press. Just the sight of your fucked-out, pretty face has his ragged breath hitching, “S-sweetheart…” 

Whatever answer you give is tangled up in Gojo’s drunken tongue, lapping at your words. His cock feels so heavy, so hot shoving between your legs. And the stretch - fuck, the stretch was something you’d always remember. Stretching out that tight hole into the very girth of his shaft - all the way down from his leaky, flinching head to the thick circumference of his hilt. “I don’t think I can- fuck, can I feel- please, m’dying to know what this cunt feels like-”

Your nails rake down the pale display of his back, those red, red jagged lines making him rut even deeper into you. “Do it then-”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Oh.

Fuck. 

It’s like something shatters - maybe limitless, maybe his restraint. Because Gojo’s eyes just fall shut in pure ecstasy, aching cock growing even larger inside you - as if that was even possible. Expanding tautly at your walls, he’s forming you so sinfully around his shape. 

“Oh-oh– fuck you feel- how the fuck do you feel so good?” His free hand dips down to roll a depraved thumb over the nub of your neglected clit, catching on your bulgingly-stretched folds. “Holy shit- think m’gonna pass out- think m’gonna die.”

“Hah-” your back arches up sluttily into his around the fifth consecutive time his rough cockhead was grazing so perfectly against your g-spot, fingers buzzing with electricity at your clit. “You’re s-so weak-”

But it didn’t matter, did it? Because all you could do was hiss out a few wet gurgles into Gojo’s mouth, blinking in the sinful sight of him with his eyes so hooded, cheeks burning with a scorching blush, mouth dangling so addictively open while he sucked your tongue. Like he didn’t even realize what he was doing - how each pressurized thrust into your gummy pussy had the lights overhead flickering, sparks of blue lightning bolting from the corners of his mouth at the same sloppy staccato as his hips. How it made you cum. 

“Sh-shit, Toru-” you’re gasping at the feeling of your toe-curling high, shots of pure pleasure running through your body. Convulsing up over and over into his weighty body, “Feels so good- m’cumming m’cumming ah-” 

Crack! 

And then it’s dark.

Hell, Gojo barely even realized when he does, too, shooting out creamy white ribbon after ribbon of seed with a soft, shuddering gasp of your name. And it’s the only thing on his usually-sharp tongue - voice cracking pathetically, when he whines it like a little mantra over and over and-

“Oh-” his five, long fingers splay out across your lower stomach - right where he could feel his own cock twitching wildly at the very bottom of your gooey pussy. Pressing down, hard. “Oh shit- just look at how you’re painted white from the inside-”

The lights were gone out - in all the wards of Tokyo, actually - and yet in the light of the slight flickers of electricity surrounding you two, you could spy the slow, syrupy glob of his cum down your thighs. Coating his hilt in a milky gloss, it sticks to the two of you like a sloppy second skin. “And you expect me to- hah- not go insane.”

You manage out a wet chuckle, too tired to notice how the bed was missing a headboard now. How all the furniture in the hotel room was trashed - as if it’d been slammed down from several feet above. “Hah- b-blame it on the sex pollen.”

The technique has him cumming more than usual, every new wave sloshing at your insides is followed by another - and another until Gojo’s cock felt so raw. Twitching sensitively in a way that brought big fat tears pricking at his eyes, and yet, he still fucks you so harshly into the mattress. Sucking out every remaining dredge of seed in those fat, cum-filled balls thwacking! at your skin. Sloppy. Depraved. Oh, he looked so ruined - like a man that crawled back from death, only to drag you down with him. 

“Oh, sweetheart.” Gojo drags his swollen lips down your earlobe. Voice shot, “I don’t think the sex pollen is done yet.”

---

“Trashed all across the floor, trashed furniture - especially in room 143 - Hokkaido still doesn’t even have power.” Yaga’s bellowing voice has you sinking ashamedly further and further into his office seat. 

Gojo, however, only beams, throwing an arm around the edge of your chair, “Damn- we should really try to send out the power in all of Asia next time, huh, my pretty girl?”

“Out!”

Across the hallway, three first-years eagerly (well, two of them and a reluctant Megumi) peer into the tense meeting. Wondering what exactly happened in your last mission that caused a record-level amount of property damage and the power to still flicker on and off throughout the day.

Yuji is the first one to speak up, “Well, no one’s dead but- why does the air seem so-” he gestures towards the almost non-existent space between you and Gojo - not anything out of the usual, sure, but the one thing different was the lack of threats. “-weird.” he finishes. 

“Tell me about it. That Gojo almost seems…” Nobara shudders in disgust. “...happy.”

And of course, at that very moment, the man of the hour himself turns to look straight at the first-years doing a poor job of hiding themselves behind the door. Sighing overly-loudly, “If you say so, Yaga~” Intertwining his fingers with yours to pull you up with him, “We had a date anyway.”

“A date?”

“A date?!”

“I win.” All eyes - including yours and Gojo’s turn towards the usually-quiet Megumi, his lips turned into the beginnings of a smile. Almost. “You both owe me ten thousand yen.”

A/N. Hope you babygirls have a good weekkkk!!!

Plagiarism not authorized.

[pseudowho]

Asking the JJK Men if it's in yet

"Is it in yet?"

feat. Nanami, Toji, TrueForm!Sukuna and Higuruma

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Nanami:

Kento stopped dead in his tracks, his cock only pressed halfway in. Embraced beneath him, cuddlefucking in missionary, you tried to keep a straight face, as if you weren't about to eep! from the delicious stretch of just half in.

Without glasses on, Kento still, somehow, managed to look over his glasses at you. His voice was mild, almost conversational, as he sought clarification.

"Is it...in?"

"...yeah, is it in yet?"

Something prickled over Kento's shoulders. He scoffed, heaving a sigh and bracing himself on his elbows. He unclipped his watch in one deft movement, laying it on the pillow beside your head.

"Ask me again in one minute. Then three. Then five."

You felt a droplet of sweat run down your soul.

"...Kento, I was just fucking--"

"--no, no, I insist. One minute."

"What are you going to--"

Kento slammed his cock into you so hard, you jolted up the bed with a shriek. If his abs hadn't held you in place beneath him, you'd have hit the headboard. Shocked, groaning from the wet slaps of Kento absolutely railing you, bottoming out until you could hardly see, you couldn't help but let out a breathy giggle.

"--c-can't...can't-- haaaaah, Kento!"

Time lost all meaning. Kento braced on his elbows, dragging his cock halfway out again with a grunt, and stopping. He glowered down at you.

"Ask me again."

You whimpered, digging your nails into his shoulders. You swallowed, trembling in anticipation.

"Is...is it, uh...in yet--"

Kento slammed into you again, creamy white lube squelching out of you onto the bed as you muffled your cries into the pillow, swearing you could feel him in your ribs.

Kento continued this for three, five, seven, nine, eleven minutes, until you were forced to admit, begrudgingly, that he and his seed were definitely in.

Higuruma:

Hiromi's eyes fluttered open. Having just released a sinful whimper from you sinking down onto his length, his brain suddenly short-circuited in fractious self-doubt and hyper analysis. In the end, nothing he could think took precedence, apart from a dumb:

"I'm-- I'm sorry? Is it...?"

Hiromi grasped your hips, pulling his shirt up and gripping it between his teeth so he could see where you were joined in his lap. He bucked up, just once, pausing for just long enough to shiver and moan at the slick, wet velvet of you. His head tipped back again with a weary sigh.

"You know," Hiromi chastised, grasping your hips to roll you over his cock, his hands strong, confident, "I'm so fucking tired, I'd have believed you. That I wasn't in."

You smirked above him, eliciting hushed whimpers and groans as you started to ride him. Hiromi allowed you to settle into your rhythm, before he berated you again.

"But also," he bickered, "how dare you, you cheeky cow, 'is it in yet', like I don't rail you blind every night with my 'is it in yet'--

You laughed, his chastisement turned punishing as he bounced you on him with glee, comedy turned feral.

"Oooo-ooohhh fuck-- love it when you-- when you think you're being funny-- love it--" Hiromi groaned, his voice muffled, his shirt hem between his teeth again as his eyes fixated on your stretched pussy sliding down his cock. You laughed, whimpering, breathless.

"I--I am funny--"

"--yeah yeah, alright, sweetheart-- keep telling yourself that--"

Toji:

Intending to hold onto your hair just a bit, Toji instead pulled you up fully, from your hands and knees. With your back to his chest, speared upon him, you squealed. You felt the bulbous tip of him bully against your cervix, and squirmed, gasping his name.

"The fuck you mean, 'is it in yet?"?"

You groaned, regretting your decision already. Toji reached up and gently slapped your cheek, until your eyes opened, and he pointed to the mirror in front of you. You could see him smirking over your shoulder.

When he saw your eyes drift to the base of his cock, slick with your arousal, deep inside you, and angled upwards so you could see the bulging underside, he smirked again, twitching his erection once, twice, three times so you could see.

Snapping your moan in half, Toji fucked upwards once, hard.

"Is it in yet?" He mocked, his breaths heavy as he fucked, and you squealed, and he fucked, laughing.

"Is it in yet? Come on baby, tell me. Is it in yet? Is it? Shit, kid. I dunno, I need you to tell me. Is it in yet? Is it in yet?"

If only he'd stop impaling you on him for long enough for you to answer.

True!Form Sukuna:

He laughed. He actually laughed. He only stopped laughing when you, sweating with fearful uncertainty, started laughing too. Then, he grabbed your face, rough in one long-nailed hand.

"What do they teach girls these days?" Sukuna rumbled, tsk-ing, batting your cheek from side to side with his palm and the back of his hand; a cat with a mouse.

"Whatever they teach you," he sighed, with your thighs spread upon his, sat on his throne, "I will offer you the chance to be untaught."

You nodded, panting as he let go of your body, and you choked out and whimpered as you slid further and further down his lower length. You felt the heavy, thickening weight of his upper length, resting against your back.

Sukuna left you like this, hands-free, to be slowly impaled as he watched, almost bored. He seemed to be waiting for something.

"Well, come on then," he drawled, his jaw leaned on one hand, with one finger lazily circling your clit, just to feel your cunt flutter around him, "beg me."

Your brain stuttered, your pussy so stuffed you could hardly think; "Beg--b-beg for...for what...my Lord?"

"Beg me to unteach you whatever drivel it is they taught you, that you should think it funny to ask your master 'is it in yet?'"

You didn't hesitate, babbling, one of his hands circling round to grasp you by the throat as you did. "P-please unteach me, my Lord, I was just being silly, just--just--forgive me--"

Sukuna hummed, his half-smile almost gentle as he began to lift you off him again, enjoying the way your pussy clenched around his lower cock as you choked.

"Lovely manners." He purred. You jolted, gasping as you felt the thick tip of his upper cock begin to squeeze into your ass. You saw stars, blinded by the enormity of him, made dumb by your own stupid attempt at comedy.

"Let's make sure you understand the perils of the situation you chose to place yourself in, hmm?"

[gutsby]

Waiting Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel Miller has mastered the art of self-control in all areas except one: not fucking his friend’s daughter. A cross-country road trip home from college takes a hard turn when he’s forced to share a motel room with you.

Warnings: 18+. Protected p-in-v. Praise. Overstimulation. Sweet, possessive, slightly obsessive and pussywhipped Joel. Daddy kink. Drug use. Angst. Accidental creampie. Joel fucking you while on the phone with your father.

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

“You okay, hon? You sound…distracted,” your dad presses. A hint of concern rises from his end of the line.

At length, Joel grips both of your legs and brings them up over his shoulders, and he grins before kissing your ankle and shoving his cock even deeper.

“Yes!” you yelp as you crush the phone to your ear, hoping your father can’t hear any of the filthy sounds down below, “Just a little stretched—I mean stressed out, is all.”

Aside from the fact that he smoked like a chimney and bumped far more Billy Joel than any man ever should, Mr. Miller was an A-OK friend—your father’s best friend.

All you needed was a ride home for the holidays.

From the second you’d set foot in his old Ford Bronco, you sensed this trek wouldn’t be an enjoyable one—thirty-hour road trips rarely ever were—but you leaned back in the passenger seat, propped your feet on the dashboard, and bopped along to ‘You May Be Right’ for the fifty-fifth fucking time that morning and smiled.

Joel frowned.

“Dogs off the dash,” he muttered, swatting at your bare, polished toes before you kicked his touch away.

“Shotgun puts her feet up, driver shuts his cakehole.”

That wasn’t even how the saying went. Oh well.

Joel slowed the car to sixty in the right-hand lane and smacked your ankles even harder. You yelped.

“Hey! You can’t hit a woman!”

“I’m not hitting a woman, I’m hitting a little gremlin,” Joel tried not to grin as he delivered another tart slap to your foot, and you almost jerked into the passenger door.

He momentarily righted the car before it went veering into the lane beside it, seized one of your feet, and tried to forcibly shove it off the dashboard, to no avail. As soon as he moved one limb, the other would glide right back up to take its place; Joel’s hands were big, but they weren’t massive enough to grab hold of both of your legs at once and make you stay the fuck there, Christ’s sake.

You liked to see him flustered. Brought a whole new hue to his tough, stubbled cheeks that folks rarely got to see. You squirmed in your seat when he reached for your side.

“Wh—NO! No tickling!” you cried, trying your hardest to roll away.

But the man was nothing if not a lover of cheap shots and filthy antics. He’d never played a clean game in his life and wasn’t about to start now.

His gaze darted from the road to your writhing form, pinned against the door and begging him to stop, while he pressed his foot harder on the gas and smirked.

“Too much?” he teased, “Say pretty, pretty please.”

In other words: give up. You would do no such thing. Your elbow jutted out to the side and clipped his fingertips sharply, and right before he could reach for you again, you were heaving yourself up and leaning almost halfway out the open window, trying to shy away from his touch.

“You fuckin’ nuts?! Get down!” he yelled.

“But it just may be a luuuunatic you’re lookin’ for!” you sang along to your old friend Billy Joel and pretended not to see, or hear, Joel Miller twisting desperately across the center console to take hold of your belt loops.

“Get—I swear to God, kid—DOWN!”

Joel had just managed to finagle a loose, feeble grip on your denim waistband as he tried to keep the car from soaring across three lanes of traffic, was just about to yank you back inside and give you a red-faced, fatherly lecture of a lifetime, when a sound startled you both.

A siren, and a set of flashing blue lights behind you.

You scrambled back in your seat and swallowed a lump in your throat the size of a peach. You turned off Mr. Long Island.

“Great! Good fucking going,” Joel griped beside you as he flicked on his blinker and started to pull off the road.

Dogs no longer on the dash—and a very pissed off cop pulling up behind your car on the shoulder of the road—you got the feeling this would be a long couple of days.

You hadn’t even made it outside the city limits of Boston.

Somewhere between Richmond and Roanoke, the two of you turned off the highway to find a place to sleep.

Joel had sat and stewed and ignored you for the customary duration of about two hours before choosing to re-engage in conversation, but deep down, you knew he was still kind of irked by that reckless driving citation he’d received. You couldn’t help but feel responsible.

Though it had been pretty funny when the state trooper had approached the car and pointedly asked, “What the hell was your daughter doin’ danglin’ outta this thing?!” Joel was nowhere near as amused as you, but he managed to roll with it and told the cop you were just trying to wave to the cows in the fields passing by.

The police officer hadn’t bought it.

He probably would have arrested you both if you hadn’t been such a coquettish flirt and somehow managed to persuade the man to let your ‘dad’ off with just a ticket.

You had hoped that would temper Joel’s anger some, but if anything, the sight only seemed to make him more mad at you. You weren’t sure why.

Presently, you pulled up to Balmaceda’s Mountain Lodge and cast a bleak look at the front office before you.

This looked nothing like the snug, homespun mountain retreat you’d been picturing in your mind. Ahead of your car, there stood a single-story concrete slab of a motel, tilted to one side and consumed almost entirely by the dark of night and wide open wilderness. A big block letter neon sign displaying the owner’s name in red now barely flickered above a muddied, pinkish glow. You groaned.

But before you could complain to your travel companion, Joel was already stepping out of the car and heading toward the main office. Hastily, you followed after.

“No way, Miller. No fucking way are we staying in Murder Motel,” you hissed.

“Bal-ma-ceda’s,” Joel intoned with a maddeningly accurate lilt, ignoring your protests, “I think that’s a Chilean name.”

He swung the door wide for you to enter and pretended not to see you shoot him a glare as you strolled in.

“Needin’ a room?”

The lady behind the counter barely graced your entrance with a look.

“Yes ma’am. Whatever you got,” Joel replied, smiling.

“Smoking or non?”

“Smoking, please.”

Of course he would. You could already feel the fetid stench of American Spirits wafting up to your nostrils.

“King or two Queens?”

“Queens,” you and Joel answered in unison.

At first, the woman nodded, flicked through a rolodex on her desk and nosed through a couple yellowed pages in front of her. Then, frowning, she looked back up.

“Sorry. All the Queens are took up. Rest of the rooms are being fumigated but the one—” she tapped a manicured nail on the motel map, “—and it’s got a King. That okay?”

No. No, it was not. You opened your mouth to speak but were shortly cut off by the woman before you could.

“Of course, if you don’t want dad hoggin’ up all the sheets, there’s a pull-out sofa for him to sleep on.”

The sixty-something desk clerk offered a smile, and you likely would’ve returned the favor if you hadn’t been so deeply nauseated at the thought of everyone around you assuming that Joel was your father. You chanced a look at the man, who seemed equally uncomfortable as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. You sighed.

“Alright.”

Defeated, but marginally pleased that you wouldn’t have to share a bed with your ‘old man’ that night.

Joel paid and signed the papers without another word, or look, to you or the woman. By the looks of it, he just wanted to book the room and get the hell out as fast as possible, his brow pinched inward and lips zipped tight.

He’d turned to leave so quick that he was almost approaching the door when the lady called out,

“Mr. Miller! You forgot your keys.”

You hardly needed to steal a glance in Joel’s direction to see that he was flushed. Even blushing a bit.

You strode over to the counter and intercepted the keys she was dangling for someone to take, then politely, finally, were able to manage a smile and a thank-you.

You turned back to Joel.

“Here you go, Daddy.”

In a blink, the small silver set was pelted in his hands, and the man nearly dropped them—and lost his balance. By some miracle, Joel managed to catch them between his big sweaty palms and step aside just in time for you to saunter past him, straight through the door.

“I’m starved,” you announced, then, averting your face to hide your smug expression and lower your voice a bit, “Feed me, Daddy.”

In that moment, Joel thanked every last one of his lucky stars that his pants were made of denim, and that the denim itself was thick. And that the woman at the front desk was swift to turn her attention back to her tabloid magazine, away from you two, and didn’t look up again.

If they weren’t, and if she hadn’t, it would’ve been plain as day to see that Joel Miller was sporting a hard-on.

A huge, swollen hard-on that made it almost impossible for him to walk and haul luggage and try to keep apace with your steps as you sailed along the gravel drive. So big the man had to will himself not to limp, not to make it known how stiff he was, until he eventually failed at both.

Once you’d grabbed your bags back at the car and made it up to your place, you entered Room 102 with a lightness you hadn’t felt all day. Joel slogged behind with all of the baggage and a boner beneath his jeans that probably could’ve cut sheet metal, if needed.

He was fucked. No doubt he’d have to enlist in the Witness Protection Program after your real father found out that his best friend had gotten visibly bricked up for you, his one and only daughter. How awkward holiday dinners were bound to be from that point on; how humiliating it seemed to him to pop a chub at a thing as dumb as saying ‘daddy’; how batshit insane it was that he hadn’t gotten laid in almost a year, and you were still, somehow, the only one he wanted to break the dry spell.

Joel was better than this. A fucking pro at self-control and all things dirty old guys didn’t do. He could chill out.

He just needed to rub one out in the bathroom, fast.

So, while you flopped down on the bed, Joel dropped every bag and made a beeline for the toilet. Slammed the door so hard he probably could’ve knocked the thing off its hinges, but he didn’t care. He was wrestling his belt, button, and zip off in a second. Then haphazardly turning on the sink to mask the sounds of all that was to come. No pun intended.

He yanked his thick, throbbing, rock-hard member out of its confines and had to hiss through his teeth to keep from moaning. The sensitivity he felt was unbearable, the front of his boxers already painted with pre-cum.

Gingerly, Joel wrapped one hand around his cock and raised the other to anchor himself against the sink. He slid his palm, which he’d just barely lubricated with some spit of his, up and down the shaft and groaned. A welt of pleasure formed in his chest, and he rubbed even faster. And, in spite of his legs feeling a bit like jelly, he stood there and fucked his fist and wished with every bit of himself that it was your warm, lush folds opening around him instead. Stifled a groan and would’ve paid any sum of money to hear your moans spilling out while he thrusted. The act here was more mindless and reflexive than anything else—jerking himself and soaking in the sharp, fiery sensations that shot up through his body.

To him, at least, it was all purely physical. Mechanical.

Nowhere near as euphoric and otherworldly as it would have been with your hand actually curled around him.

Or your lips. Or your tongue. Or your tight, wet cunt.

Fuck, he needed a shower.

Blindly, Joel moved inside the tub to his left and yanked the curtain shut over a space almost two times too small for his frame. He turned on the water and made it hot. Then he fisted his cock again, pressed his head to the shower wall, and pumped himself as fast as his forearm would allow him—trying all the while not to think of you.

You, with all your wily, shrewd ways were still the daughter of the man who guzzled down IPAs with him at the local dive bar every Thursday night over jalapeño poppers and buffalo dip. The man who clapped him over the shoulder and shook his frame with the kind of good-natured sneer that only a best friend could make, ‘A man as suave as you oughta get some tail every now and then. Go find you a gal and fuck her brains out, Joel!’

But the only ‘gal’ Joel wanted to rail was the one who called that man ‘dad’—and just called him ‘daddy’ for the first time that night—and he hated himself for it.

Sparks of pleasure continued to ignite across his lower half as he jerked himself in the shallowest, short pumps. He flicked his hand back and forth, circled the tip with his palm, and felt a groan start to claw at his throat. He tried to picture any face but yours but failed miserably.

All he could think, see, or breathe was you—imagining your lips enveloping the head of his cock, jerking him softly, taking him down to the back of your throat and bobbing that pretty little face up and down his length.

That sweaty, desperate fist of his just wasn’t cutting it.

For the first time, Joel couldn’t make himself cum.

Now even more pent-up and pussywhipped than he’d been when he first started, he slammed his palm against the wall and flung the shower handle in the opposite direction—turning the water as cold as it could get.

Five minutes passed, and the icy spray had scarcely left a dent in his raging erection. Joel stepped out of the shower, wrapped a towel around his hips, and stood in front of the mirror to see that he was still very hard.

Fuck this.

He bunched his strewn aside clothing together and held it over his crotch, discreet as he could, and waddled out.

And, either the temperature inside had just jumped fifty degrees or the world outside had just caught fire, but Joel’s face was flooded with heat the second he exited.

You were sprawled across the bed wearing nothing but a thin white tank, shorts, and fuzzy socks—and a scowl.

“Sofa’s broke,” you said.

Joel blinked.

“Broke?”

You nodded toward the busted sleeper couch at the far end of the room, torn to pieces and kicked a half-dozen times since you’d tried unfolding it in Joel’s absence.

The jaws of the old steel frame had simply refused to give way, and now the sofa was so out of sorts and misshapen that you had no hope of putting it back the way that it was. You sank further in the bed and pointed to the floor.

“You can sleep there.”

Joel eyed a flat sheet and a pillow laid across the carpet, visibly coated in dust and grime. He turned back to you.

“You’re smokin’ crack if you think I’m doin’ that.”

“Be grateful I’m not making you sleep in the car, daddy.”

Again with that fucking name. Joel tightened his grip on the clothes he was holding over his dick and tried to fight a thousand dirty thoughts threatening to seep back into his head.

Unfortunately, the dirty thoughts had hands—and were beating his ass to a bloody pulp when he first caught sight of your nipples poking up through your shirt. Just when the man might have started to drool or else begun humping that pile of clothes, you snapped your fingers.

“Miller Lite. Eyes up here.”

Fuck.

“Got a…stain on your shirt,” he grumbled in his defense.

“Shut up. Now, we can flip for the bed if you want.”

By turns, Joel’s focus was slowly coming back, and the man was trying like hell to find a place on your face that didn’t arouse him to no end—to help ease the intrusive thoughts and all. So far his search had yielded nothing.

“Like, uh…coin?” he asked. Endearingly stupid.

“Heads, I win,” you said, nodding, “Tails…”

Joel swallowed.

“Tails, what?”

“Tails, you tell me what was going on in your head when you were jacking off to the thought of me just now.”

Your words came out in a hurry, almost too quick for Joel to comprehend. He still heard them, though, and nearly choked on his spit when he tried to swallow again.

“I wasn’t—”

“You were,” you bit back, “I heard you moan my name.”

Joel didn’t remember that. Joel didn’t remember much of anything that had taken place in that bathroom apart from being implacably horny and unable to bust a nut. You stepped off the bed to stand in front of him.

“What? Cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” you sneered, “Think I’m just gonna run off and tell my da—”

“Don’t,” Joel’s response was immediate, insistent. Then, setting his jaw in a way you knew too well, contemplating about fifty different thoughts in the span of two seconds, he pressed the clothes pile to his crotch even tighter and sighed, “Don’t…do that, please. I’ll take the floor.”

You raised both brows, mildly amused.

“I said we could flip for it. C’mon,” you said.

“Ain’t got any coins.” Joel was already retreating to his makeshift sleeping pad on the floor, eyeing the shag carpet for any traces of blood, piss, or rodent droppings. Before he made it too far, you reached for his arm.

Joel tensed under your touch.

“We can try something else.” Your voice was cloying, almost too sweet to be trusted.

It had just dawned on you then how bare the man standing before you was. Clad in only his towel, every taut, toned inch of Joel’s body was there on display—coated with sweat and a fine sheen from the shower, his skin practically shone in the glow of the bedside lamp. You watched him shift in place and saw the towel around his hips stir along with it. He never let those old clothes in his hands move an inch away from his groin, though.

“What game?” he asked.

“Something my roommates showed me,” you began, “‘Too Hot.’”

“Too Hot?”

“You heard me.”

“What, like— like Spin the Bottle, or some bullshit?”

Joel could just picture it: a gaggle of your college pals huddled around an old, empty bottle of Bud Light as you watched it turn circles again, and again, and again on the dorm’s linoleum floor. You tugging at the sleeve of some oversized man-child from a frat Joel couldn’t name, leaning in and beaming like the insatiable flirt he knew you to be, asking that boy if he wanted to sneak off somewhere and let his tongue take a tour of your mouth.

The thought made Joel’s stomach turn.

Presently, you wrinkled your nose up at him.

“Spin the Bottle? That’s rookie shit,” you made another face reminding Joel, once more, how little he knew of the life you lived 1,900 miles away from Austin, at college.

He still couldn’t shake the thought of those boys.

“No, Joel,” you shook your head, drawing your syllables out for effect, “‘Too Hot’ is just…edging your opponent.”

Joel’s throat tightened, and he tried not to let his eyes widen too much, but he was almost certain they had. Before he even knew the words he was saying, the thought of your father taking his fist—or a shotgun—to his face made him blurt out in response, stammering,

“We can’t— I can’t— can’t lay one finger on you, darlin’, you know that. Your dad would murder me.”

To his surprise, the smile on your face only widened.

“Bingo,” You stuck one pretty finger in his face like he’d made the world’s finest discovery, “You can’t touch me.”

“Huh?”

“That’s the whole fuckin’ game, Miller. We can kiss, but we can’t touch each other with our hands. First one to crack and grope the other player loses the game.”

Your expression now was something just shy of sadistic. Watching him with keen, narrowed eyes and a wicked little grin, it seemed you were half-expecting him to fold on the spot. No way was this a game your college friends taught you; you just wanted to play him. Make him lose.

And Joel was a man who couldn’t stand to lose, no matter the stakes.

You watched that failure-averse glint eclipse every shade of lust in his eyes, at least momentarily. Suddenly, Joel didn’t look so fearful of your father’s wrath or what lurid implications this night might bring—he just had to win.

“You suck, you know that?” he said, at last, dropping his makeshift shield from the front of his towel and knocking you flat on the bed with a single push.

“You wish I would,” you grumbled, heart still jumping up in your ribcage all the same. You scooted back.

“I bet you will.”

The man was a menace when he had the will to be.

At length, Joel crawled over your body and made room for himself snug between your legs. The bulge that he’d been trying to hide all this time was now heavy on your center, pressed tight to your stupid-thin shorts and the panties you’d conveniently forgotten to wear. He grinned.

“Are tongues allowed?” he hummed.

“Everything but hands,” you shrugged.

Try as you might to play it cool with him, though, every fibre of your being was alight with desire for the man on top of you. You flitted a look between his soft brown eyes and slightly parted lips and could’ve melted in that bed had Joel not lowered his head and dove right in for it.

His mouth was far gentler than expected. Reverent, even. He slotted his lips between your own and made a fine, delicate showing of just how tender and adept he could be while imparting his slow, sweet kisses. Skirted his tongue across your bottom lip before driving it inside, coaxed your mouth open to him in a matter of seconds. He was graceful. And patient. And lithe with that tongue.

Joel Miller was showing off for you—the bastard.

“Sweet little thing,” he groaned against your mouth, “Ain’t felt a tongue this shy on mine in a long time.”

Of course he’d try taunting you, too. Same old Joel.

“What’s it been? Two years since a woman let you touch her?”

“Twenty since I felt one this good.”

You would’ve liked to reach around the back of his head and seize a clump of that thick, dark, grey-speckled hair. But you couldn’t. Your hands remained plastered to the duvet beneath you, and then, just slightly, your fingers started to curl inward. Joel’s palms laid flat on either side of your head.

It felt weird; mashing lips, teeth, and tongue with a man who’d been alive about twenty years longer than you and went further back with your father than you could even remember. What felt even stranger was the fact that you couldn’t touch him, or take him between your two hands.

Joel’s tongue continued roaming every contour and crevice of your mouth like he had an ache for this taste that he just couldn’t quench. Your tongue tried keeping up, too, but frankly, you were too preoccupied by a pulse between your legs—your parts and Joel’s practically throbbing in time with one another—to work just as hard.

Even through the towel, he felt huge.

You whined when Joel started to grind up against you, and shortly, those fingers of yours that had just been grazing the sheets before were gripping them. Tight.

“Earlier…” Joel murmured between kisses, hips working a vicious pace against you, “You said you were hungry.”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry—starved,” he corrected himself, and you almost could’ve smacked him for being so smug about it.

“What’s your point, Miller?” You were fisting the sheets beneath your palms and gyrating your whole body to meet the motions of the man currently dry-humping you.

All of a sudden, Joel’s movements stopped.

He peered down at you with a curious look.

“I could go for something to eat, too,” he declared.

You blinked. Stared. And just when you’d opened your mouth to say, well, maybe you should’ve grabbed us a bite to eat when we passed that Burger King on the way in, dipshit, Joel’s torso started to move down your own. Slow and painstaking as ever as he made sure not to graze one inch of your skin with his hands while he did.

You leapt back against the headboard, almost cracking your skull on the wood.

“Joel— Joel,” you hissed as the heels of your feet dug into the mattress below, and Joel just sank even further.

Then he was slowly, scrupulously pinching the fabric of your shorts between each index finger and thumb, gaze trained close on your lower half to make sure he never touched you, and he started pulling it down.

“This isn’t—” you started again, only to be offered a soft shush and an even quieter rustle of the cotton material sliding down both your legs.

You dropped your head on a pillow and probably could’ve burned a hole in the ceiling with the wide-eyed look you fixed on one spot, in utter disbelief of what he was doing.

“No panties, huh?” Joel observed. Gentle puffs of his breath were now fanning across the whole bare expanse of your lower half, and your pyjama bottoms were shortly discarded. His face was just hovering there, and you could tell that he knew you knew by the way he lowered his voice and brought his head to have only the tips of his chin stubble grazing your abdomen, “You needed this.”

Some lone remnant of ire flashed in your eyes.

“I don’t need shit from you, Miller. You need me. And you’re gonna lose this.”

Even though your gaze was still trained to the ceiling, you could feel him grin against your delicate skin.

“Hey,” he mumbled, “You said tongues are fair game.”

Fuck me, you wanted to keen the second his lips made contact with your…lower ones, and Joel swiftly got to kissing you there just as he’d done to you above. Hot, soft, and tender as the first rays of morning sun heralding a new day, he sponged his lips across the seam of your heat and made as if to massage the place, gently.

You could hear as well as you could feel that effusion of desire leaking out of your cunt and pooling around the man’s mouth. How eager he was to lap it up with his tongue, to grace your ears with those delectable squelching sounds, he caressed every inch between your folds and only sank deeper when you whined above him.

“Joel.”

Right now you couldn’t look down. Not with the way your legs were already trembling around his head, your chest heaving with the fastest, most frenzied breaths. You’d sooner die before you watched him unravel you like this.

“Darlin’, you’ve got a man soaked.” Some sound almost resembling a chuckle reverberated between your thighs and sent a brand new shockwave of pleasure in its wake, “You like it when daddy uses his mouth on this needy, wet cunt, don’t you?”

Yes, yes, you did. But your answer was nonverbal: a sharp curl of your toes and a grip between your fingers so tight across the sheets that he saw you veritably could’ve torn the linens in two.

Neither of you had laid a hand on the other.

Joel was perfectly content to make do with his mouth for now.

“Got those sheets all balled up, you’re fixin’ to rip ‘em.”

“My tongue make ya feel that good, honey?”

“Poor thing can’t even breathe it feels so nice, right?”

So he’d seen you hiccup, try to steady your breaths, and fail before succumbing to a string of lewd moans. Joel saw you, and knew how you felt, as if he’d had his own secret gauge for how good his mouth was doing you in.

Surely, he could’ve sensed the words before they ever came out of your mouth.

“Touch me, Joel, please.”

His tongue was just then making a lazy circuit around your clit, mouth saturated in your juices, when he smiled.

“Nah.”

Curt and cruel as ever. Then:

“No matter how fuckin’ perfect this pussy is, I ain’t losin’.”

He completed the arc with his tongue and took your bud between his lips, sucking in. You almost screamed.

“Motherfucker.”

“Miller, baby, Miller. Close, though.”

And just when you thought he’d had his fill of cheeky games, Joel sucked your clit even harder and flicked the tip of his tongue against your bundle of nerves until you were writhing, crying on the bed above him,

“JoelbabypleasebabyfuckmefuckohfuckitfeelsoGOOD.”

It was a bit tough to decipher through your strangled, desperate moans, but Joel got the picture. Heeding your requests, he kept at that pace above your clit and slid his tongue back and forth, over and over, lapping up your honeyed glaze like it was the finest thing he’d tasted. Scruff harsh against your thighs, lips soft in a perfect suction, Joel Miller had your head swimming in desire and your better judgment dissipating before your eyes.

At the first sign of bliss, your muscles clenched, and the last linchpin of your resolve crumbled right along with it.

You carded your hands through Joel’s hair and grabbed hold of those locks with a full-throated moan, using his head for shameless leverage to buck and rut your hips into his face as you rode out the peaks of your high.

And, ever the gentleman, Joel fought like hell to keep his lips and tongue connected to your core while you writhed above him—this time at liberty to work his arms under your thighs and hold them since you’d given up the game. He would’ve smiled if he weren’t so narrowly preoccupied, seeing you thrash about and moan out loud and fuck his face like it was the last thing tethering you to earth. He liked seeing you come undone beneath him.

A bit too much, if he were being completely honest.

While you made the languid descent from ecstasy and your breaths were still slowing in your chest on the bed, Joel was back on his feet. Padding toward the bathroom door, slamming it shut behind him as he had before. When he returned in a minute or two, he was clothed. He fished for his keys in the pockets of his snug, stonewash Wranglers and made a face. He didn’t look at you.

“I’ll be back,” he said, starting toward the door.

“Back?” You sat up, perplexed, “The hell ya goin’?”

“Out.”

This motherfucker.

“Did I miss something? Were we not just seconds away from getting down to some how’s-your-father?”

Joel visibly grimaced at your choice of sex slang. Under the circumstances, you would concede it wasn’t ideal.

“O-kay, sorry,” you returned, crossing your legs out in front of you, “I mean…don’t you want me to get you off?”

Again, Joel’s expression twisted into something just shy of overwrought, weary, and repulsed—a look that you couldn’t begin to understand, for the life of you—and you watched him flit his eyes from the bed to the door, again and again, seeming to be pining for the sweet release of leaving your shared motel room as soon as possible.

You’d been with your fair share of emotionally avoidant fucksticks, but most of them didn’t ghost until after they’d gotten their nut and felt no reason to stick around. Joel’s exit seemed premature. Strange.

“So you don’t want to fuck?” you asked, deadpan. You’d never been one for beating around the bush.

“Can’t,” Joel shook his head, bringing one hand to rest on his hip while the other fiddled uncomfortably with his car keys, “Your dad…that’s just— that’s crossing a line.”

“And being nose-deep in my cunt isn’t?”

You stared him down, incredulous.

So now he decides to claim the moral high ground, after coaxing you to soak every inch of his beard and cum all over his tongue? How very fucking charitable of him.

“That’s different,” Joel retorted, rubbing his knuckles in a nervous tic, “That was a game. I won. We’re done.”

You set your jaw just tight enough to keep your tongue in check and refrained from firing off a brash, unsavory remark. It wouldn’t do either of you a lick of good.

You let him leave. Joel had told you that you could keep the bed, he didn’t mind, and then he slipped out the door without another word. Leaving you cold and alone on the soiled, tawdry floral bedspread of Room 102, wondering what the hell had gone so wrong in the span of the last five minutes. From the center of the bed, you could see Joel’s Bronco pull off into the silent, frigid night.

You were still hungry as shit.

Rolling onto your side and rummaging through the bags at the end of the bed, you found nothing even remotely edible—save for, literally, one of Joel’s brownie edibles—and you groaned out loud. You threw your shorts back on, stepped into your old Luccheses, and did a quick circuit around the room to find your jacket before you left. As it turned out, you’d forgotten it back in Joel’s car.

You dropped to your knees and went back to tearing through luggage, searching for some suitable outerwear.

By the end of that second suitcase foray, though, you found you had nothing of your own that was hefty enough to brave the below-freezing temperatures outside, so you had to settle on a dark brown, fleece-lined coat from Joel’s bag. It was durable enough but about four sizes too big—and reeked of cigarette smoke.

You trudged outside, not really knowing where you were going or what you were hoping to find. Your stomach growled, and a few cool gusts of wind came to lap at the bare skin of your thighs where Joel’s spit was still drying.

You stepped a few feet out and turned toward the road.

Bal-ma-ceda’s, you read the seedy neon sign and heard Joel’s enunciation of the name ring between your ears.

What you wouldn’t give for the greasiest, girthiest, barely-FDA-approved 7-Eleven corndog to kill your thoughts about that sleazy little fucker right now.

You started toward the convenience store across the street but quickly found that it was closed—along with every other establishment on that stretch of road. You glanced toward the front office and caught a glimpse of your old friend dozing behind the counter. The speakers outside were playing a tinny rendition of ‘Piano Man.’

Just as you tried not to barf in your mouth at the sound and silently primed yourself for a long, long trek through the boonies to the nearest gas station, you stopped.

In a compact little breezeway that cleaved the motel in two, you saw light pool around an old vending machine.

You almost fell over yourself trying to get to it.

Never mind the fact that there were about half a dozen ragtag teens decked out in camouflage and comically tattered denim cutoffs crowding the area. All absently smoking and blowing o’s, or else sipping on cans of beer in the cramped, concrete passage, they looked bored. A couple lazy smiles broke out upon seeing your approach.

You nodded back and sidled up to the snack dispenser.

Then you zeroed in on the first sugar-packed products you could find: a pack of sour gummy worms and a bottle of Sprite—no, Mountain Dew—and a chocolate bar. Maybe a bag of Cheetos or Fritos thrown in for good measure. All of the snacks were probably stale as shit and hadn’t seen a replacement since dinosaurs roamed the earth, but you didn’t care. You were prying singles out of your wallet and salivating before you could think.

“Gotta kick it a couple times ‘fore it’ll spit anything out,” one of the boys lounging around you piped up.

You’d just inserted a couple bills and were waiting for the machine to dispense your gummy worms, when the thing appeared to stall. Stuck in its tracks, like he’d said.

You raised a brow and tapped the toe of your boot to the appliance, turning toward the one who’d addressed you,

“Like this?”

“Nope. Nuh-uh.” The redhead got up and strode over, where his much bigger, square-toed boot delivered a kick to the vending machine that almost toppled it.

A bag of Trolli Sour Brite Crawlers dropped out.

The kid—who actually happened to be nineteen years old and a student at some college a few states away, along with his whole group of friends—was kind enough to repeat the same ritual for all of your treats. You’d just gathered your stuff together and were about to thank him for his services, when the guy presently stuck a hand in your direction and introduced himself as Connor.

Then Blake. Then Micah. Then Wyatt. Then Trent. All traveling with their team for a tournament that weekend.

Then a beer was held out to you. You declined. A little homemade deer jerky? No, thanks. How ‘bout some Oreos? I’m good on snacks, really. Well, shit, you seem a little high-strung, why don’t you take a hit right here? And Connor pulled his dab pen out from his pocket.

Well.

You hadn’t smoked in a minute. You might’ve decided to take a bite out of Joel’s brownie back in the room, but you hadn’t known how strong it was—or where the fuck he’d gotten it. The pen this stranger was offering you was one that looked similar enough to the kinds you’d seen passed among your friends a hundred times before that you felt comfortable taking one hit, maybe. Two max.

You felt stupid as soon as you’d sucked in every breath, but you ended up taking four hits in total.

You hacked and sputtered and blinked up at Connor, who was grinning big.

“Alright, hardass,” he chuckled, taking back the device.

“Daddy know you smoke?” Wyatt cut in with a sneer.

Daddy?

There was no fucking way Joel looked that old for everyone to think he was your father. You inwardly cringed.

“Y’all been spying on us?”

“Ain’t shit else to do around here.” That was Blake.

You tried to swallow but found your throat much drier than it had been before. And not just from the weed.

“He doesn’t care,” you said, managing a shrug.

It wasn’t entirely false. Joel did give no fucks about you.

“Dude looks like a— a fuckin’ DEA agent or something,” Micah said, amused.

“Like that guy from Narcos,” Trent snickered.

You’d never seen the show and didn’t particularly care to know what law enforcement archetype Joel appeared to embody—in fact, you didn’t want to discuss him at all.

Just as the first fuzzy beads of warmth began to roll into your head, you were already planning your exit strategy. Thank Connor for his selfless assistance and cannabis, bid the group a good night and the best of luck in their upcoming lax tournament, and be done with this shit, ASAP. You were still trying to steady your tongue in the bone-dry cavern that had become your mouth when one of them kicked at a near-empty case of beer at their feet.

“We’re about out.” Micah announced.

Seconds later, Connor was turning to you.

“Wanna…restock in our room?” he asked, the corners of his lips twisting into a smile as he looked down at you.

You crinkled your nose and shook your head. Connor leaned his whole weight against the vending machine between you, seeming unconvinced by your answer.

“I don’t believe you,” he said, “I think you wanna come.”

“Do I?”

You only entertained the backtalk because your brain was currently swimming in a far-off, pleasant void of contentment and indifference. Every sharp edge dulled in your mind, to an extent, and your body at ease. You didn’t have to be home to anyone, anytime, and Joel was probably halfway plastered at a dive bar down the road. You didn’t move back when Connor stepped forward.

He wasn’t even that close. You could leave whenever you pleased.

“For sure. I think you’d enjoy our shitty beer and even shittier company. We can smoke some more, too.”

The man certainly had a way with words. He muscled in a bit closer.

“You think so?” you hummed.

“I do. I really do.”

“And you’re willing to risk the wrath of my dad if he finds out where I am?” You made it sound like a challenge.

“Wyatt can fight.”

Connor motioned toward his friend, who was mindlessly chomping on deer jerky in his lawn chair off to the side, glossy-eyed and hammered. You couldn’t help but laugh.

“Okay, but make sure he’s ready. I can only stay for five.”

Connor seemed wounded as he put a hand over his heart in mock dismay.

“Only five minutes?” he griped, “Why not ten? Or twenty?”

“Six.”

“Fifteen at least.”

You folded your arms over your chest and felt an opaque haze beginning to settle over your brain. It wasn’t quite a high, just a lightness of being that drove tender little streaks up your spine. Like Joel, tickling at your sides while you writhed around in the front seat of his car.

This time you took the beer Connor offered and cracked it open. He seemed pleased—and taken by surprise—to see you down the drink in spite of the overflowing foam.

“Ten,” you returned once you’d swallowed it all.

“Twenty.”

“Honey?”

The last voice didn’t belong to anyone in the group. You turned on your heels and almost coughed up your beer.

It was Joel, of course.

Standing at the threshold of the breezeway like a surly, disconcerted parent, of all things, watching you like he’d just caught you red-handed in the most horrific of acts.

Clutched in one hand was a Burger King takeout bag.

“Daddy. Hi,” you breathed.

Apparently your attempt at casual came across more slurred than anything else, because Joel stepped closer.

‘Let’s go’ was all he said. No accusations, no threats, no outward displays of emotion found anywhere on his face. Just a gruff ‘Let’s go,’ and a free hand reaching for yours.

Instinctively, you recoiled.

“We’re just talking,” you said, gesturing behind you. If you could have seen the uniform looks of discomfort and agita, damn near treading on fear, among them all, you probably wouldn’t have bothered.

“Good. Now you’re leaving,” Joel supplied in a moment.

He was blissfully indifferent. Asserting his will in a space where, less than one hour ago, he couldn’t bear to share a room with you, much less impart a shred of dignity or care to your condition. He had nerve, that was for sure.

“I’m not leaving,” you said, a touch more venom in your voice than you intended.

Joel raised both eyebrows.

“No?”

His expression, directed to you, was infuriating.

“Fuck no,” you answered.

A few of the guys behind you sucked in a breath as if to say, ‘Okaaaaay, time to go!’ but then Joel pressed,

“For someone who wants to be treated like an adult—”

“Adult?” you scoffed, “You treat me plenty like an adult, Joel. Just whenever the designation suits your needs, huh?”

No one moved.

Well, Joel flinched a bit. Then he squeezed your wrist.

Truly, you never failed to underestimate the man’s brute strength when it came to carrying you off at will—but there you were, being yanked behind the big, bad Joel Miller as he hauled you off to who-knows-where. You scowled but didn’t bother to steal a glance behind you at the beer, boys, or vending machine treats you were being forced to abandon. All you could do was stare a hole through Joel’s skull and tug back—largely ineffectually.

“You’re an ass,” you spat, digging your heels into the gravel terrain as he pulled you along.

“You’re a brat,” he fired back.

In a minute, the exterior of Room 102 was coming into view; Joel was practically toting your ass like a knapsack.

“You just abandoned me back here, Miller. You— you don’t get to pretend like you give a fuck now.”

“I was getting you Burger King, for Christ’s sake.”

Joel was fiddling with the lock now. Simultaneously juggling your hand, the paper bag, and a set of keys that didn’t seem keen on cooperating, he huffed, disgruntled.

“Even got you those—” Joel grunted, thrusting his shoulder into the door, “—fuckin’ curly fries you wanted.”

Your jaw slackened. That was supposed to make it okay?

“Joel, FUCK your curly fries!” you cried, “Are you seriously still trying to play good guy right now?”

“If that’s what you—”

“No. You don’t get to tonguefuck your friend’s daughter and buy her a goddamn Double Whopper and act like it’s all good. Sure as hell don’t get to dictate who I talk to.”

Like he had before, Joel cringed to hear your crude language—particularly as it related to what he had done to you but didn’t seem capable of owning up to just yet. You couldn’t bear another second of that look.

“Fuck this. I’m sleeping in the car,” you grumbled.

You thrashed your arm out of Joel’s hold and started off in the other direction. Picked up your pace when you heard the bag of fast food drop to the ground and Joel trotting after you. Calling your name.

Even at your most brisk, you knew you couldn’t outstrip those big, beefy legs of his. He gained on you in seconds.

So you took off running.

Joel gripped his side, thinking, ‘Aw, hell’ before breaking out in a sprint just as fast.

You were pissed at how far he’d parked this time around. You caught sight of the old Bronco perched a ways away from your room and almost opted to change course on the spot, to the front office—maybe dive behind the counter and beg that poor old woman to give you another place to stay—but you kept at it, anyway. For once, you were glad to have had Joel beat by so many years, because the man’s endurance was, evidently, shit.

“Hey, s— stop!” Joel shouted after you.

Fat chance, Miller.

You closed in on the car. Joel rarely ever locked it.

Your hand secured a grip on the door and jerked it back. It swung right open.

Just as Joel was pulling up the rear, you had the driver’s side slammed shut and your palm laid flat on the door lock knob—shoving the little black lever down each time Joel tried to unlock the car.

It was a fruitless endeavor, you knew; you couldn’t keep the man out all night so long as he had the car keys in his hands. You could piss him off some more, though.

“You won the fucking game, just take the bed!” you said, straining against the door with your weight pressed hard on that knob. Joel was furiously working to get it open.

“I mean it, Joel, I-I don’t wanna sleep in there wi— shit.”

You leapt back in your seat as Joel flung the door wide open. You scrambled across the center console, made a desperate grasp at the passenger door to climb out the other side, but your ankle was taken between two hands. Just as you tried to slink out on the opposite end of the vehicle, Joel pulled you right back in. Flipped the center console up so you were sprawled flat across the bucket seat at the front of his car and pinned underneath him.

Then he pulled you over his lap.

Not into it—nestled on top of his crotch, with your ass pointing up in the air. Joel’s big ass Carhartt jacket was bunching up around your torso, collar crowding you up to the chin. Your twisted just far enough to meet his gaze.

“What do you want from me?” Joel demanded, “What?”

You stared up at him, poring over your options in the span of what seemed like two milliseconds. Wondering, silently, why he wasn’t touching you anywhere.

“I want you to fuck me, Joel,” you replied at length.

Seated between driver’s side and shotgun, Joel looked perfectly unperturbed, raking a hand through his silver-flecked hair and letting his gaze trail up to the ceiling, as if considering something of grave importance.

“And what after that?” he asked, still staring at the roof.

Before you could reply, though, he was forging ahead,

“What happens when I can’t even look your dad in the eye knowin’ I’ve been balls deep in his little girl, and every fuckin’ time I’m over at your house or you’re over at mine, I’ll be thinkin’— no, dreamin’ of what it was like to have you wrapped around my cock, screamin’ my name and takin’ it so deep inside you like I know ya want it?”

You paused a beat. Had to bat your eyes a couple times to rid your head of those filthy thoughts he’d planted.

“We could, uh— fuck…then…too,” you ventured quietly.

Joel grinned at the spot he was watching, humorless.

“That easy, huh?” he mumbled.

Again, before you could speak, Joel continued,

“I can’t even cum with you on my mind,” he said, and for a split second you thought that might mean he wasn’t attracted to you in that way, when he swallowed hard and closed his eyes, “I’ve tried beating off twice today—in the bathroom and as soon as I left earlier—and I can’t…even get close with you here. You fuck with my head.”

You fuck with my head.

Without meaning to, your hips stirred over his, and Joel audibly groaned. At last, he dropped a palm to your ass and gave it a taut smack, and your whole lower half reverberated with the sensation—and a welt of pleasure.

“You think I want it to be like this?” Joel said, voice strained, fingers kneading over the flesh he’d just struck, “Think I enjoy havin’ the biggest set’a fuckin’ blue balls known to man whenever I’m around ya, honey?”

You winced when you were spanked again, letting out a whimper into the seat’s charcoal-colored upholstery.

“I can help with that,” you hissed, feeling him massage the spot once more. You arched your back into his touch.

“No. You’d make it worse,” Joel shook his head, “Once I get a feel inside this sweet cunt I’ll never wanna stop.”

At the soft rumble of his words, you felt yourself growing aroused. Noticeably so. Your skin broke out in broad swaths of gooseflesh every place he touched, and in the wake of those hands grew a pool of dull warmth. Sticky, slick, soak-straight-through-your-shorts sort of warmth.

Joel’s hand hovered about an inch from the source.

“We’d get bored eventually. It’d be fine,” you said, words crawling off of your parched tongue with some difficulty now. That faint, heady feeling from before had become a high, finally, and it seemed every sense you possessed was ablaze with desire. You were barely able to breathe, much less speak, but there you went, rambling anyway,

“Soon enough, you’ll get over the thrill of screwing me, and I’ll find a nice, polite, age-appropriate boy to spend the rest of my life having nice, polite sex with, and we can both pretend like this never happened. Deal?”

It was quite possibly the dumbest offer you’d ever made.

Joel slotted his hand between your legs to rub against that dampened patch of fabric. You almost jumped.

“Yeah? Just fuck around and forget about it?” Joel spoke, and you truly couldn’t tell if it was a sneer or real sincerity, as your eyes were squeezing shut, “Is that all you want from me, sugar?”

His fingers slipped beneath your shorts and made swift, easy contact with your heat. You buried your face in the seat and tried to muffle the sounds that were clawing their way out of your chest, while your hips tilted up.

“Please, Joel,” you whimpered.

By now, your head was spinning, in a daze, that you almost didn’t notice him tug your shorts down your legs. Or take them off at your ankles. You did get a sense of when he was breaching your folds—taking two, meaty fingers and trailing them up the slick glaze of your cunt.

“Doesn’t seem like this pussy wants ‘nice and polite’ to me,” Joel murmured, eyes gradually fastening to that lovely, exposed spot pointed up to him. He wet his lips, “Needs somethin’ else, doesn’t she, darlin’?”

Speaking of your pussy in third-person wasn’t something you ever thought could be hot, but coming from Joel? While his fingers traced up and down the seal of your entrance, tips circling your tight, hot, throbbing hole? Arousing didn’t even begin to cover it.

You pushed your ass back, and Joel chuckled above you.

“Wanna fuck daddy’s fingers? Is that it?” he taunted.

No, no, no—you wanted his cock buried inside you. But now you just needed reprieve from that ache, and your senses were practically on the fritz trying to get it.

Your hips rocked back and forth over his fingers—sliding the two digits in and out of your cunt with each motion—and, as much as Joel would’ve liked to make you beg and wait a little, your desperate pleas as you fucked his hand were more than enough to satiate him. He worked his free arm under your body and pinched hard on one nipple, eliciting a soft moan of ‘Joel’ underneath him.

“Oh, baby,” he breathed, watching you rut your hips for more friction, “That’s it, baby, fuck daddy’s fingers. Use my hand to make yourself feel good— that’s my girl.”

At the last, you probably could’ve cum on the spot, and Joel could tell by the way you clenched around him. He nudged a third finger between your plush, sensitive walls and heard your moans take on an even higher pitch.

“Hurts,” you whimpered, with no real indication of pain. You just felt stretched out, stuffed, and aching again. The only ‘hurt’ was not having even more of him in you, “Need more of you daddy, please. It hurts.”

Joel wanted to see you cum on his fingers. He really did. But when you got down to begging and pleading for his cock like that, the man’s whole heartbeat throbbed in his jeans, and he simply didn’t possess the resolve to refuse.

He hoisted you upright in his lap so you were straddling his hips. The fabric of his jacket hung loose off your frame and both of your arms as you latched around him.

“Are you high?” Joel asked, voice evening out all of a sudden to pin you with a serious look.

“Yeah.”

“How high?”

“I can consent, Joel.” Your thighs tightened around his sides, and your hips had already begun to stir.

“Not just can consent—do consent. Do you want this?” Joel’s hands moved from the small of your back to cup your face. You gave him a squished-together pout.

“Yes, I want this,” you managed through pinched cheeks. When Joel released you, you lowered your own hands to the buckle of his belt.

It felt foreign and familiar at once—this age-old ritual of fumbling for each other’s clothes and wrestling to get them off, like your bodies might catch fire if you didn’t act fast enough. Joel was a tad more graceful as he shrugged his jacket off of you, peeled your tank top off, and helped you maneuver your bare limbs around him. You, on the other hand, felt half-feral and every bit the wide-eyed novice while you stripped his body garment by garment and wordlessly told him just leave the jeans, I can’t wait another fucking second. Joel bit back a grin and had to steady you above him, feeling his cock twitch against his tummy but still slowing down enough to remind you, shhh, shhh, honey, it ain’t goin’ nowhere.

You had a tough time remembering that as you rubbed your wet centre over his shaft. Feeling so good you feared the feeling might escape any second, you whined.

“I know, baby, I know,” Joel cooed as your head fell in the crook of his neck, “Still hurtin’ somethin’ awful, hm?”

The tip of his cock just barely grazed over your clit and you buried your face even deeper, nodding furiously; Joel leaned forward to grab some item out of the glove compartment behind you and braced your body to him.

He tore something with his teeth. You craned your neck just slightly.

“Don’t laugh,” Joel muttered, voice momentarily stifled by bright, metallic wrapping.

“Is that…” You straightened up enough to cock a brow at him. Joel’s tongue rolled across the inside of his cheek.

“Cobwebs and all.”

Beneath your gaze was the flimsiest, dust-ridden, damn-near vintage condom—a decade old, at least.

“You buy that before or after the Great Depression?” you teased.

“Shut up.” Joel was already working it onto his dick.

“So Prohibition-coded.”

“I can find something to shove in that mouth, y’know.”

You were having too much fun at the old man’s expense, blissfully unaware that Joel was about one Gen X joke away from making you suck three of his arousal-soaked fingers. When you opened your mouth to speak—to try another wisecrack or else question the integrity of this ancient relic of a rubber—Joel crashed his lips against yours and made you mute with his tongue instead.

At the same time, he slowly eased himself inside you.

Your mouth fell open when you sank down on his length, fully, but no sound came out. You just gripped Joel’s shoulders and peered into his face as if to say, ‘Shit.’

No way any man was ever meant to feel this good.

No shot your walls were fitting his cock like a glove.

Joel soaked in your gaping, wordless stare with a nod.

“Good?”

“Great.”

You’d give all eight inches of the man a goddamn standing ovation if your legs weren’t feeling like jelly. Joel let out a small grunt when you clenched around him.

“Nice and…easy,” he said, as much to himself as to you. He pinched your hip in one gigantic hand and held you there, “Let ya take a second and adjust, alright, darlin’?”

“But Joel—” you whined, already trying to slide back up.

His grip kept you impaled on his dick, anchored in place. With the other hand, he brought a thumb to your clit.

“Just feel me, sweet pea,” Joel said, slow and languid as molasses while he touched you, “Ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

You couldn’t be sure if the man was a sadist or the world’s biggest fan of cockwarming—or just polite.

The bare, slightly-less-sexy truth was that Joel hadn’t done this in a very, very long time. Even the sex he’d had, close to a year ago, was something more of a flashbang than a bona fide carnal experience; he’d just bent a perfect stranger over the bathroom sink and drilled her. This was a fever dream, a first to end all firsts, and at present, Joel felt himself toeing a razor-thin line between self-restraint and bliss by just your presence alone.

In short, he didn’t want to fuck it up by busting too soon.

When you rolled your hips and squeezed your eyes shut above him, well, Joel almost fell into a panic.

Think of golf. Differential equations. The weather in Kuwait. Anything to get his mind off of how tight your pussy was holding him in, how lithe your body worked to grind above him while he sat there, so helpless and—

“Big,” you whined, stretched to the fullest you’d ever been. Unable to bounce up and down like you wanted but still squirming for more friction, “So big, daddy.”

Hockey. Geometry. Wind patterns around the Maldives. He held you even tighter, but your motions were growing desperate. You had to start moving.

“Joel, please,” you begged him.

“Baby, I’m—”

About to cum. I am two seconds away from cumming.

“Need you now, need you so—” your voice broke off in a moan as you sank your nails into his muscly shoulders, “So bad, daddy, please, please, please—”

On the seat beside you both, your phone lit up, buzzing:

Dad 💙

Fuck.

FUCK.

Your eyes locked on Joel’s in a shared look of panic and horror, and for once, your bodies stopped, perfectly still.

You knew your dad too well. Just as much as Joel did.

Your father wasn’t the type to call late at night unless something was up. And he wouldn’t stop calling until someone picked up.

“Should we…?” That whisper came from you.

Joel was frozen in fear, eyes now glued to the screen.

“Just…give it a sec,” he breathed, “Might be nothing.”

But his tone couldn’t mask the dread behind his words. He gritted his teeth and watched the phone ring.

It stopped.

Then started again.

The pair of you clung to one other in the old Ford’s bucket seat like your dad might veritably hear the two of you having sex from 1,300 miles away if you moved.

It stopped once more.

The screen stayed black.

You let out a small sigh and felt your eyes start to close.

Then the trill of a ringtone under Joel’s ass started up the second they’d fluttered shut, and suddenly your gaze was wide, and frightened, and freaking the fuck out when you realized that your dad was trying to reach Joel.

“Answer,” you hissed.

“What?!” The whites of Joel’s eyes were bigger now than you’d ever seen them.

“He’ll know something’s up! Just—” you slipped your hand under Joel’s rear, completely devoid of any sexual insinuation this time, and yanked his old iPhone 6 out of his pants, “Answer it. Now. Be cool.”

Joel’s expression was still paralyzed with terror, but he brought the ringing phone to his ear anyway. Gingerly tapped ‘answer’ once you’d smacked him on the bicep.

“He-e-y man.”

You were so fucking dead.

Your face hovered mere inches away, and you could almost hear the warble of your father’s voice on the line.

“Great,” Joel answered, stilted as a puppet with someone’s hand up its ass, “So good. How are you?”

A beat.

“She’s good, she’s good.”

For a moment, Joel’s gaze flitted to the spot where your bodies were still connected and you saw a flash of desire, followed by guilt, then his head tip back to close his eyes as he tried to concentrate on the conversation at hand.

“In the bathroom…Uh-huh…Phone must be dead…”

“No, she’s been a trooper—just fine…”

“Somewhere just shy’a Bedford, I think…”

You listened to Joel drone on and clench his jaw, and every now and then you’d feel a squelch in that tiny space between you two when one of you moved, and it occurred to you then that it probably was not in your best interest to stay seated on his dick while he talked. You shifted your legs underneath yourself to get up.

When you started to slide up Joel’s shaft—the first time you’d ever really moved, mind you—you felt a knot in your tummy start to tighten. The friction was to die for.

You sank back down and heard a hoarse little cry spill out from your lips before you got the chance to swallow it.

At the same time, Joel groaned. Then stopped himself. Then coughed—profusely.

“Sorry, just got a little—” Suddenly, a fiery set of eyes were searing holes in your head, angry as they were desperate, “—tickle in my throat is all.”

You ignored the strained Southern drawl and the eyes that looked ready to put a bullet between your own, and you rocked your hips again. The sensation was just too good. Your body practically acted of its own accord, and suddenly you were bouncing up and down in Joel’s lap.

The man beneath you looked enraged. Aroused.

Ready to wring your neck and maybe spit in your mouth.

“World’s movin’ too. damn. fast,” Joel seethed, trying to communicate to you semi-covertly while you rode his cock, “She’s one hell of a— firecracker, man, I’ll tell ya.”

You heard your dad’s laughter on the other end. While the sound subsided to chuckles, Joel grabbed your neck. He covered the mouthpiece for a second, then, in a murmur,

“This is not a fucking game.”

He squeezed your throat so tight you probably could’ve lost all circulation going to your head, but you smiled.

In spite of the hot, glowing embers of pleasure taking shape at the pit of your stomach and the coil that kept twisting and swelling inside, you grinned down at him. Then you mouthed, softly, ‘Yes, it is,’ and you rocked your hips against him even harder.

Joel drew in a breath through his teeth and watched you ride him with bleary, half-hooded eyes—keeping one hand on your carotid as the other hand cradled the phone to his ear. The man was transfixed.

By the pinch of just one set of fingers, you knew you were done for. A dwindling supply of oxygen, combined with your high and the hundreds of nerve-endings being brushed by Joel’s cock every other moment, you were spiraling toward release and didn’t know how to stop it.

When Joel pursed his lips and lifted his hips to start fucking up into you, you had to let go. Couldn’t hold on. You grabbed hold of his forearm, still hovering across your throat, and you moaned as the bliss washed over you. You slid your needy lower half back and forth, squeezed that tanned, tough arm practically bulging with veins above you, and you came around Joel’s cock. You whimpered his name, again and again, feeling him stroke your walls and fuck you through a euphoric high.

The next thing you felt was the seat cushion behind you—and the shift of Joel’s body weight pinning you down.

His cock hadn’t slipped an inch when he flipped you over; his grip was still secure on the phone.

The only thing that had changed was that look: malicious and vindictive with the hint of a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. Joel felt you pulse around him, starting to come down from your high, and he just decided to fuck you even harder.

“Shouldn’t be much longer now…” Joel hummed aloud, lowering a hand to your throbbing clit and muttering a soft ‘Uh-huh’ to your father while you clawed at his wrist.

“Joel,” you choked.

Now the feeling was too much. You were still so wet, raw, and sensitive that the pad of his thumb almost drew a shriek from your chest when he moved his finger in circles. You heard them chat about football. Joel shared a short, strained laugh with the man on the other end and pretended not to hear your whines as he continued to rail you senseless in the front seat of his car.

With the diversion of the phone call keeping his own climax at bay, Joel was free to fuck you as rough as he pleased—and couldn’t be more in awe seeing you veer close to the edge, again.

“Please, daddy, please,” you beseeched him, tears springing to your eyes as Joel’s thrusts kept shaking you.

He just shook his head and smiled as if to say, ‘Hold still.’

“It’ll be fine,” he said, “Mahomes is next-level. Best they can do is keep their heads down and take it, y’know?”

Your own soft, aching hole was taking the beating of a lifetime, and somehow, you managed to meet Joel’s gaze with a look that almost struck him as loving. That blissed-out, cockdrunk look of pure debauchery crossing your eyes in a way he hadn’t come to find in ages, if ever, was intoxicating. He felt the first fluttering pulses of your orgasm squeeze around him again, and suddenly he was pumping you faster, drilling you harder, gripping your throat and starting to sense his own climax draw near.

He couldn’t finish off like this.

Not talking shop and Super Bowl to your father—no.

Joel had to do something you might rightly hate him for for the rest of your life, and never forget, or forgive.

He lowered the phone, and right before he did, said,

“She just stepped outta the bathroom, actually. No, yeah, she’s right here. Wanna say hello?”

Your heart skipped a beat and nearly jumped into your throat. You tried to shake your head—fast—and even went so far as to try and dodge the phone when Joel brought it down to your ear, but that motherfucker had a grip like you couldn’t believe and wouldn’t stop stroking inside you or holding you down. You hated that you found Joel’s total dominance and control…kind of hot.

You flashed him the most nasty, bratty, ‘I’ll get you for this, Joel’ look you could muster anyway, and when he pressed the phone to your cheek, you mouthed a few more silent expletives before changing your air entirely:

“Hey, dad!”

Joel knew he was cooked from the second you said hello. Something objectively malevolent inside him got a rush to hear you speak to your dad in such a contrived, high-pitched tone of voice, knowing the unspeakable things he was doing to your body the whole fucking time. He could focus, now, with no need for any strained civilities of his own, but deep down, he knew it wouldn’t last long. He would not last long.

Might as well make it fun while it lasts.

“He…did,” you hummed, flitting your eyes up to Joel when he brushed your lower lip with his thumb—still holding the phone up for you while he rutted into you, “No, nuh-uh…Mr…Mr. Miller didn’t mind, no sir.”

Shit, the sound of you saying ‘sir’ was something that made Joel’s whole body lurch with pleasure. He made a mental note to have you call him that later and stroked your lip once more.

You tried to turn your face away—telling Joel, wordlessly, that you couldn’t keep up this conversation with your father if you had a thumb in your fucking mouth, but Joel didn’t care. He watched you pause for a moment, let just the tip of his finger press into your tongue, then, battling your better judgment, wrap your lips around the digit almost cautiously and suck. He knew you liked it, too.

He knew it by the way you bobbed your head, hummed, and nodded every time he thrust inside your aching walls and dragged his cock back out. The way your teeth clamped hard on his thumb whenever he grazed a particularly sensitive spot and how your lips held him in like a gag, or some other thing to keep you quiet amidst the moans and the whimpers bubbling up in your chest.

Suddenly, Joel was at your other ear, lips grazing skin and tongue praising your every move.

“My sweet girl.”

“Doin’ such a good job stayin’ quiet.”

“Takin’ daddy’s cock so well, aren’t ya, darlin’?”

From that point on, every single one of your father’s words over the phone fell on deaf ears—all you could hear was Joel. All you could feel was Joel. Your lips parted as if starting to speak, but all that would come out were small puffs of air, perfectly in sync with each one of Joel’s thrusts.

“You okay, hon? You sound…distracted,” your dad pressed. A hint of concern rose from his end of the line.

At length, Joel gripped both of your legs and brought them up over his shoulders, and he grinned before kissing your ankle and shoving his cock even deeper.

“Yes!” you yelped as you crushed the phone to your ear, hoping your father couldn’t hear any of the filthy sounds down below, “Just a little stretched—I mean stressed out, is all.”

The sick, smug fuck currently wedged eight inches deep inside you almost burst out laughing. If you weren’t so perilously close to your fourth orgasm of the night, you would’ve told Joel to take a long walk off a short bridge.

“Just worried about grades a-a-and all,” you stammered.

Joel leaned forward and almost tore a scream out of your chest—his tip was kissing the edge of your cervix now.

“Yes, sir. I will.” You tried your hardest not to whine and almost let out a sigh, “I’ll…ask him about it, for sure.”

As bone-crushingly fun as this all was, Joel was close.

He could feel it in the furthest recesses of his stomach; he was about to blow his load.

So, leveraging his weight to strike just the right angle and pushing his thumb in to stifle your moans, Joel sped up and drew even closer, face-to-face, so he could see your every expression from a hair’s breadth away.

He was so near he could hear your dad’s droning voice. See you struggle to take cock the closer you got to your release. You hadn’t cum in such quick succession…ever, really. All but one of the guys you’d let between your legs before seemed like amateurs compared to Joel, and to be honest, you weren’t sure if you could make it to four.

You popped his thumb out of your mouth and mumbled some ‘Sure, okay’ or other to your dad before casting a pleading look up at Joel. His hips were working up to a ruthless pace.

You covered the mouthpiece.

“I can’t, Joel.”

“Sure you can, sugar.”

“Joel,” you hissed, and tried to grab his wrist, when you felt your stomach start to cave. Every exposed inch of skin gave way to waves of heat, and your toes curled in. Worst of all, Joel was letting out sounds you hadn’t ever heard—short, ragged breaths that broke off in low groans—and it felt as though he were cradling your head. Holding you to him. Your eyes were locked on one another, your mouths practically panting in time, and what parts of you had not yet become commingled with him were practically coated with sweat. And shaking.

Then, in tones that rang like music to your ears:

“Alright, I’ll let ya head to bed, then. G’night, pumpkin.”

Your dad hadn’t even fully hung up the phone before you flung it across the car. Heels dug deep in Joel’s back.

“Cum for daddy,” Joel coaxed, “Cum all over this cock.”

You didn’t need much more instigation than that.

You came. He followed.

And it probably split his eardrum in two having his name screamed so fucking loud, but frankly, Joel hadn’t seen a reason for going deaf that he could’ve enjoyed so much.

Then, he didn’t sink so much as simply collapse on top of you while you both kicked back and let the waves of ecstasy roll over you. You adored his warmth in spite of the heat practically suffocating you both in that car.

Until it was in you.

Sticky, sweet dripping inside you.

You pushed Joel hard in the shoulder.

“Did it…”

“What?”

“Joel!”

You flipped your legs down and tapped his abdomen furiously, telling him, pull out, pull out right fucking now, and Joel gently obliged. Dragged his cock three-fourths of the way out when a frail, tattered condom came loose around the head of his cock and almost fell off entirely. That damn prehistoric rubber had broken inside you.

“JOEL!”

“I’m sorry! Fuck, I— fuck.”

Joel scrambled to get his cum-drenched cock and what remained of the condom away from your body, but the damage was done. You started throwing on clothes.

“I’m ovulating this week, I am so fucking fucked!”

Joel swallowed, shimmying his boxers and jeans back into place and scoping the front seat for his shirt.

“What’s…ovulating?”

You wanted to tear your hair out at the root.

There was no way this man had survived half a century on earth and didn’t understand the menstrual cycle.

“It means I can get pregnant if we don’t get a Plan B up in this bitch immediately. Let’s GO!”

That part seemed to click. Joel almost fell over himself trying to find his keys, while you slid out of the Bronco.

“Where are you going?!”

“To— to try and get some of this shit out of me first!”

Joel bounded after you, and within the first steps, you were sprinting across the parking lot. Your sweaty, half-naked companion tried—and failed—to slow you down.

“Are you not on birth control?” Joel huffed.

“Are you not capable of buying condoms more than once every fucking decade—or three?” you snapped.

Your strides were growing wider and more frantic by the second. Joel clutched his side and struggled to keep up.

“I’m…sorry,” he grunted, more embarrassed and worn-out than anything at the moment, “I’m sorry, darlin’.”

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t get your cum out of me, daddy.”

Your words couldn’t have gotten any more caustic or merciless—or inopportune—if you tried.

As it was, you were passing by the breezeway where all the bored lacrosse players were still lounging around, cracking cold ones, and craning their necks to see what the fuss outside was all about. The sounds of your feet racing fast on gravel and you and Joel’s raucous, bickering back-and-forth had caught their attention, and shortly, Connor was sticking his head around the corner. His expression—along with all the faces behind him—had twisted with horror. Confusion. A visible look of disgust.

Joel had just slowed down to catch his breath. He doubled over and braced both hands on his knees.

“I’ll fuckin’…duct tape my dick next time I hit it, honey!” he wheezed, barely loud enough for you to hear but perfectly audible to all the terrified guys around him.

Joel turned his head and almost groaned.

Then he was straightening himself back up, starting to retreat from the group who had him pinned with genuinely frightened—and nauseated—looks.

Joel normally wouldn’t care. This time, though, he threw his hands up and thought, fuck it, I’ll clear the air.

Over his shoulder, he grinned, yelling back to the guys:

“I’m not actually her dad!”

All of them stared back. Half-jealous, half-awestruck, Connor stood up, raised his beer, and called after him:

“I SURE FUCKIN’ HOPE YOU’RE NOT!”

[moechies]

oh please more bunny reader and toji they’re so cutesy. maybeeeee reader has really sensitive tail/ears and toji really takes advantage of that?

tamer! toji who’s the roughest with his little client bunny. well, your previous owner is to blame. he claims that you’re the pickiest, messiest, neediest bunny that needs to be put in her place ; with none other but a little bit of force.

tamer! toji who doesn’t really like rodents , but he assumes he could make an exception for you; since you’re cute and fluffy. just this once though , bunny !

tamer! toji who doesn’t let your brat antics slip past him, and makes sure that you know your place at the end of the day. he can’t let your owners tedious cash payment go to waste !

“d-don’t touch my ears !” you whine, soft sobs spilling from your pouty lips. the man has both your ears in a strong, unforgiving grip, looking to teach you a lesson for sneaking into his washroom for a peek.

the thin, white towel he has around his waist hangs dangerously low and not to mention, loose, and your wandering eyes can’t help but notice the fat chub that shows through the fabric.

“fuckin’ perverted bunny. ya need a whoopin’ to learn yer place ?” he sneers, lowering his face to face yours. you paw at his hand, thumb slipping against his burly fingers, “hn— no— it hurts ! w-was an accident , swear ! i got lost !”

toji can’t help but grin at your limpid lies; he can see right through you, little bunny.

y’r gonna learn not to lie t’me ever again tonight, bunny.”

tamer! toji who carries you towards his bed as you writhe in his grip, ignoring your little mewls and complaints about your sensitive ears as you rub incessantly at the sore flesh.

tamer! toji who bends you over in the grossest arch against his towel-clad lap, feeling his warm skin against yours as the towels knot grows weaker and threatens to slip. he tugs off your soft shorts, revealing that soft, chubby bunny butt.

tamer! toji who’s surprised when he sees how fluffy your little cottontail is, twitching nervously under his gaze.

tamer! toji who even more surprised when he takes a sneak peek at your bunny cunt , just to see how slicked up your chubby folds are, soft hole throbbing with your carnal needs. what a pervert.

“no ! d-don’t look there !” you squeal, frantic paws attempting to scurry away from the man’s grasp.

his hand comes down unexpectedly with a hard smack across your ass, the soft flesh growing raw to the touch. your throat elicits a small gasp of shock, falling pliant against the man’s lap. you’re quick to burst into tears, even if you don’t want to; but it truly hurts so bad!

“bad bunnies need t’learn.” toji coos, kneading at the raw skin. it makes you flinch against his touch. “bad, perverted bunnies.” he whispers against your soft ears, making them twitch.

he tugs at the soft tuft of your cottontail, exposing your puckered asshole soft to the touch.

“n-no!” your tail twitches against his hold, shaky hand coming behind to cover yourself.

“hey.” he spits, a rough hand grappling at the chub of your ass almost like a threat, “y’think y’r in any place to tell me no right now ?”

his hand slaps down against your plush ass once again, the sting inevitable as he holds you firmly. your hands ball into fists that shoot up to your eyes, furiously wiping away at your newfound tears, soft hiccups that accompany your cries.

“that’s it, y’r learning.” you submit helplessly below him, watching intently at your softened ears pliant against the cushion. “y��know what you need to do?”

“m—m sorry. ‘m sorry mister…!” you burst into tears once again, little toe pads curled up into ‘c’s in a fear of feeling his punishing hand on the hot burn of your ass yet again. you don’t know if he’d punish you for your loud cries yet, but you simply can’t hold back. he’s breaking your little bunny heart.

“oh..” he sighs, he feels a tad bit bad; he supposes. he watches as your forearm slaps across your face to hide your expression, your other hand in an attempt to protect your burning cheek. “hey.”

you peek up at him with a tiny stare, hiccups still reverberating through your body causing you to bounce against his lap. you ignore the fat chub that pokes at the side of your tummy, flaunting shamelessly through the fabric of toji’s pants.

“come to this room t’ night after yer duties. y’took yer punishment well.” toji grimes, and he adores the way your eyes light up like diamonds. his friend down below seems to adore it just as much as he does, too.

tamer! toji who sees you peek in half of your head at the designated time that he asked you to come, nervously treading along the glazed floors with a glint of fear that he’ll continue his punishment.

don’t think of him so lowly, bunny. he really isn’t that mean!

tamer! toji who takes care of you that night; after a bit of coercing and getting you on your tummy, ripping your frilly panties from your bruised butt and pressing in a thick plug. he thinks the pink diamond is terribly gorgeous in contrast to your soft tail, twitching with pain at the unfamiliar feeling.

tamer! toji who preps you briefly, leaning down to block your view of his hefty fingers slipping in between your chubby folds. “s—sir!” it’s not like you don’t feel it, but he loves to make a little face at you that makes you look crazy!

tamer! toji who fucks you brutally against his soft matress that night, relentlessly humping into the depths of your gushy cunt. he can’t get enough, truly. you’re one damn bunny.

he watches you skillfully, the little plug snug in your ass squeezing against his cock from the inside. he feels the hard metal that bulges from the other side of your soft walls, grunting at the tightness.

tamer! toji who can’t help but cum fat loads in your cunt when he hears your little cries, sweet yelps for your ‘mister’ to come and save you. it’s even better when they slowly grow to cute moans and pleads to cum all over. don’t worry, bunny. your new mister will be sure to tug at your cottontail and rub your clit, just to ensure his bunny a good time.

[kateschi]

the katsuki bakugou effect

synopsis: where your husband, katsuki, has a way of calming your daughter like no one else can.

pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader

katsuki’s ability to calm your daughter is nothing short of magical.

it doesn’t matter how fussy or inconsolable she gets; the moment he holds her, everything changes.

her tiny fists are no longer clenched in frustration, her loud cries slowly taper off, and her little body relaxes in his arms. his presence soothes her in a way no one else’s can.

you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve been at the end of your rope, trying everything you can think of to calm her.

you’ve rocked her gently, hummed her favorite lullaby, even tried a little soft talking, but nothing works.

when your baby’s tears start to escalate, and her little body trembles in distress, you find yourself on the edge of exhaustion.

but then katsuki walks in.

he steps over to you, and with a quick kiss to the top of your head, scoops her from your arms, then instantly, the tension in the room lifts.

his rough hands gently cradle her, and he murmurs something too quiet for you to catch.

you can’t help but watch in awe as she goes from wailing to calm in just a few seconds, her little face nuzzling against his chest. it’s like a switch flips, and you swear you can see her sigh in relief.

it’s always the same. as soon as katsuki’s around, she settles. she looks at him with a calmness that’s impossible to ignore, her tiny lips pouting slightly as she stares up at him.

her little hands grasp weakly at his shirt, her body relaxing into his hold as if everything is suddenly right with the world. and katsuki just holds her, always.

“you’re a softie,” you tease one day as you watch him rock her back and forth.

katsuki shoots you a glare, but it’s softened by the sight of your daughter curled peacefully in his arms. “shut up,” he mutters, but there’s no real heat behind it. and you can’t help but smile.

you cross the room, leaning in to plant a kiss on his cheek. he stiffens for a moment, but the warmth in his eyes tells you everything you need to know.

“I’m serious,” you say. “you’re the softest guy I know.”

he lets out a gruff chuckle, his scowl deepening, though it's clear he's enjoying your attention as he places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

a few weeks later, you’re all at a class 1-a reunion, gathered at the old dorms. the atmosphere is lively, with the familiar banter of your old classmates filling the air.

midoriya’s sitting on the couch, holding your daughter carefully in his arms, cooing softly at her as the rest of the group laughs and talks around them.

but suddenly, the peaceful mood shifts. your girl begins to fidget in midoriya’s arms, her little face scrunching up in that all-too-familiar way before the whimpers start.

a soft cry escapes her lips, and then it builds, escalating into the full-blown wail you know so well. midoriya looks startled, glancing around as if searching for some way to calm her.

“uh, uh, it’s okay,” midoriya says, trying to gently rock her in his arms. “it’s okay, sweetheart."

but your baby’s cries only seem to grow louder, her face turning red as her hands flail helplessly. you glance at katsuki, already knowing what’s coming next.

without a word, katsuki stands up from his seat, the others giving him a bit of space as he walks over.

his eyes lock on your daughter, and there’s something about his gaze that makes everything else fade into the background. he’s not rushing, not frantic.

he just calmly steps in, his arms outstretched.

midoriya silently hands the little girl over. as soon as katsuki has her, everything shifts. he holds her against his chest, and his rough hand gently pats her back.

his thumb brushes against her little arm, his voice soft. “it’s me,” he murmurs, his tone low and steady. “it’s okay.”

your little girl hiccups, her cries fading almost immediately, and then she stops. her lips jut out in a pout, still a little upset, but no longer in distress.

she stares up at him, her wide eyes searching his face as if recognizing him. and then, she settles into the crook of his arm, her tiny hands grasping weakly at the fabric of his shirt.

the room is silent for a moment, everyone watching in awe as your girl rests peacefully in katsuki’s arms. he doesn’t even seem to notice the attention.

his focus is entirely on her, his expression softening as she calms.

you smile to yourself, watching him from the sidelines. even after all this time, katsuki never ceases to surprise you with how much he’s grown, how much he’s learned.

you remember when he first found out he was going to be a father, and how nervous he’d been (though he would never admit that).

but now, here he is, effortlessly calming your daughter.

“man, you’re a real softie now, huh?” kirishima teases from across the room, a wide grin plastered on his face.

katsuki’s eyes narrow immediately, and he glares at his friend. “shut the hell up, red.”

but the teasing doesn’t stop there.

kaminari, who’s been silently watching the entire scene, leans forward with a smirk. “I can’t believe it…the ‘explosion hero’ is actually the baby whisperer now?”

katsuki frowns, and his glare remains trained on the two of them. but there’s a slight restraint in his movements—one that’s only noticeable to you.

he’s trying to stay calm, and it’s all because he doesn’t want to wake your little girl up. you can practically feel the tension in the air as his patience wears thin.

sero, naturally, chimes in with a smirk of his own. “I’ve gotta hand it to you, man. I never thought I’d see the day when you’d be ‘aww’ing over a baby like some mushy ball of fluff.”

katsuki’s mouth opens, ready to fire back, but then he glances down at your sleeping daughter, her little chest rising and falling peacefully, and he shuts it again.

for a split second, his fierce expression softens. he takes a deep breath, holding the baby a little tighter.

“you’re lucky she’s asleep, or I would've blasted your asses to oblivion,” he grumbles, but the threat is half-hearted.

kaminari lets out a nervous laugh. “jeez, man, alright, we get it.”

you can’t help but chuckle softly, leaning against the doorframe as you watch them. 

katsuki’s eyes narrow in warning, but despite his frown, there’s a warmth to his expression that doesn’t go unnoticed when he looks back at d/n.

it’s moments like these when the rest of the world seems to disappear, and it's just him, her, and the quiet calm they share.

sighing in resignation, he shifts slightly, walking over to you. you watch as he makes his way across the room, still cradling your daughter in his arms, her tiny hands gripping his shirt as she drifts into a deeper sleep.

you don’t say anything at first, but as he gets closer, you meet his gaze with a soft smile.

there’s no denying the softening effect he has when it’s just the two of you—well, the three of you, if you count the tiny bundle in his arms.

he leans into you as he steps to your side, his broad shoulders brushing against yours, and without a word, he tilts his head slightly toward you, seeking the quiet comfort of being beside you.

“I told them to shut up,” katsuki mutters, his voice lower now, quieter. his usual fiery energy is subdued, and he seems content to just be in your presence.

he exhales slowly, letting the weight of the situation fade away. you reach up and gently touch his arm, a soft laugh escaping you.

"she's lucky you’re her dad," you murmur, your eyes flickering down to where your daughter is curled against his chest. "you’re so patient with her."

katsuki scoffs lightly, rolling his eyes, but the smile tugging at his lips betrays his true feelings.

“I’m not some damn pushover,” he mutters, but there’s a softness in his tone that makes you want to kiss him.

and you do.

kofi — navigation — masterlist

do not copy, translate, or plagarize

[kitasuno]

with you, i'm first | miya osamu x reader

in which miya osamu is used to coming second to his brother. but with you, he's always first.

wc: 1113 | gn!reader | fluff

Miya Osamu is used to coming second. 

It starts with Atsumu, like most things do. October is cold and gray and Atsumu comes first, a small body with a large presence that fills the warm hospital room. His cries are loud and he’s a little underweight, but with him comes the sun. 

Atsumu is born under a partly cloudy sky but the nurses swear he was shrouded in sunlight. 

Osamu comes twelve minutes later. His parents are crying and his Ma is close to passing out. If he thinks really hard he can almost feel her warmth, Atsumu’s sobs, and a mumble of prayers that October has safely brought Atsumu and then Osamu.

He asks Grandma one day what the weather was like when he was born. She says, with confidence, it was foggy.

Atsumu doesn’t get along with his classmates. He is too loud and too rash and lacks social cues, and Osamu is angry because Stupid ‘Tsumu cares too little: and he wants everyone to know Atsumu like he knows Atsumu.

They fight and they yell and they argue until Atsumu says, 

‘Samu, I don’t care about ‘em. Why do ya care so much? 

And Osamu throws him across the room. The argument ends there, he says sorry, and Osamu lies awake that night thinking about his brother. Atsumu is hotheaded. And an idiot. A loud snorer, too. But he turns on his side and curls into a ball because he knows it was sunny when Atsumu was born and all of a sudden he really wants to be his brother. 

Atsumu dyes his hair first: it’s a shitty box dye from the pharmacy down the street, and it looks terrible. It’s a little yellow and a little neon, and Osamu laughs until his sides hurt when Atsumu shows him. 

But Atsumu is proud, and he is confident, and he goes to school with a hundred watt smile and a group of girls trailing after him. 

Osamu goes to the pharmacy that night and buys a box of gray, cloudy dye. Atsumu helps him bleach his hair under their bathroom sink with the faulty tap and tells him he looks like the moon.

His Ma says that Atsu is hot and Samu is cold after the two have a particularly bad fight. Atsumu is gleeful and smug as he gloats that he was born to be hotter and warmer and better, and Osamu punches him. 

He remembers his Ma sitting on the porch, an arm around his shoulders as he pouts. 

“‘S not fair,” Osamu had said, his chin in his palm. “Why’d ya name Tsumu that?” 

His Ma had laughed, quietly, leaning her weight into his side. And she had held his cheeks between her palms and told him with a fire in her eyes that Osamu means To Rule. 

He meets you for the first time in February. 

You were standing in front of him, a little sheepish, with a box of chocolates in your extended palms. He remembers feeling something heavy in his chest. Because, yeah, Atsumu was definitely going to accept your confession. 

You had said, IReallyLikeYou, and Here’sSomeChocolates, and Please Accept Them. 

You were shorter than him, and your hair was done nicely, and you were blushing and nervous. And you were really fucking cute. But Osamu is used to coming second, so the only thing that comes out of his mouth is, Why? And then, Tsumu’s in tha next classroom ov’r. 

He doesn’t remember what happened next, only Atsumu’s laugh and the slap echoing through the halls. You leave with his cheeks stinging and hot. And Atsumu had teased him the next day, behind his mountain of chocolates and confessions, because Osamu’s face was still red twelve hours later. 

He sees you a lot the year after. 

You’re in the same class as him and ‘Tsumu, and you smile every time you see him. You sit two rows in front of him and you’re not very good at tying your uniform. Every lunch, Osamu watches you pull out the same gray bento with a wrapped onigiri on the side. He tells you one day that he really likes onigiri. And then, Osamu watches as every lunch, you pull out the same gray bento with two wrapped onigiris on the side. 

With you, it’s always Hi Osamu, first, and then, Hullo Atsumu. With you, it’s an onigiri dropped on his desk when the lunch bell rings. With you, Osamu thinks back to a conversation with his Ma on a porch. 

Osamu means To Rule.

The menu is this: Tuna mayo on Mondays and Thursdays, Ume on Tuesdays and Wednesdays. Friday is plain. You don’t ever bring onigiri for his brother. 

He asks you, on a hot night in June, what your favorite type of weather is. You had your knees tucked to your chest, a sparkler in hand, and then told him cloudy. Cold. Foggy. Winter. Snow is nice, too. You say it all with no hesitation. 

Osamu kisses you for the first time that night. 

It’s New Years and you’re cooking Ozoni on the stove. The curtains are open, it’s snowing outside, and Osamu wakes to the smell of miso and the sound of carrots on a chopping board. He gets out of bed, padding to the kitchen with half-lidded eyes and a stifled yawn, and then he thinks his heart stops when he sees you. 

Because what Miya Osamu is not used to is this: coming first and having something unequivocally his. 

But you’re bent over the counter, fiddling with the oven as you read the instructions on the back of the packaged Yakimochi you bought the other day. And you’re wearing his shirt, it falls right below your thighs, your hair is still messy from using his chest as a pillow, and you look beautiful. 

“Mornin’ ‘Samu, come help me with this.” You say, looking back at him with a smile, pointing to the fresh pot of rice on the counter. “You’re in charge of onigiri.”

He hugs you instead, his arms around your stomach with your back to him. 

“But I like yer onigiri,” He says, his chin on your head. His eyes are watering and it must be from the steam of your boiling dashi. 

“‘Samu,” You complain, giggling as he presses kisses into the crown of your head. “I made enough for ya in high school.” 

It’s cold outside and snowing, and Osamu knows he’s going to make the onigiri. 

He also knows that if his name means To Rule, he’s okay with coming second if it means you’re by his side.

[coffeeworldsasaki]

I hate XFactor, for some reason in the past 5 years 99% of the people participating are all the nicest and cutest people so whenever someone gets eliminated even when I don't like their music it feels like somebody shot me because I hate seeing them sad 😔

[aurorawhisperz]

You’re All I Need (r.c.)

contains: swearing, angst, mentions of pregnancy, family drama.

father!rafe x mother!reader

a/n: if this goes well and finds its way into my busy schedule, i’ll turn this into a series! and guess who just hit the two-decade mark.. 🎉🎂

summary: you’re sick, exhausted, and barely holding it together while caring for your daughter, juno, alone. desperate, you call rafe, your ex and her father, for help.

who am i to want you now that you’re leaving?

•

almost a year ago, you and rafe had gotten into a big fight over the summer that left both of you saying things that couldn’t be taken back. by the time he was gone, you thought it was over for good. he stormed off and it felt like the end.

that was the same summer you found out you got knocked up.

when you finally told him about the baby, he swore he wanted to be there, for both of you. but you couldn’t do it. you didn’t his half-assed attempts at playing family. so you told him he could be in the baby’s life, but not yours.

the day your daughter was born, nothing felt real. you named her juno, inspired by a movie you’d watched a hundred times during your pregnancy. you didn’t need rafe there that day. at least, that’s what you told yourself.

and for a while, that worked. until tonight.

the fever is unbearable, heat radiating from your body as you lean against the wall to steady yourself, your legs trembling beneath you.

juno cries loudly, sharp and continuous, her small fists waving in anger from her playpen. juno was only a few months old, but the sounds she made tonight seem louder than anything, or maybe it is the throbbing in your head that is making everything clearer.

you tried to calm her down—rocking her, even her close until your arms felt like they might give out but your fever had drained every ounce of strength out of you.

rafe was in the middle of a business call when his phone rang. he saw your name on the caller ID and immediately sensed that something was off. he excuses himself from the meeting and quickly picks up.

“what’s up?" he asks, his voice filled with concern and curiosity. “do you wanna have juno tonight?”you ask, not entirely aware of what you’re doing. “i don’t don’t know..I’m just..” then you sigh. “she’s been saying ‘dada’ all day and she refuses to eat.”

rafe winced at the loud noise. juno’s cries are clearly heard from the other end. it was clear that you were having a hard time, and he felt concerned for both you and juno.

“yeah, ‘course, i’ll take her.” he replies quickly, then rafe doesn’t waste any time. telling some lame excuse to his clients, gathering his things and completely bailing on the group of people in the meeting room.

the drive to your place felt excruciatingly long, but he kept his foot on the gas, determined to get there as fast as possible. rafe offered you and juno a spot at tanneyhill but since you were too petty towards him at that time, you declined.

He rushes to his car, his mind racing with thoughts about you and Juno. The drive to your place feels excruciatingly long, but he keeps his foot on the gas, determined to get there as fast as possible.

finally, he reaches your home and practically jumps out of the car, making his way to the door and banging on it urgently.

"(name)? it’s me! open up!" he calls out, the sound of juno’s cries echoing in his ears.

when you open the door, rafe’s eyes slightly widen in worry at your appearance. he could see the paleness in your face and the exhaustion in your eyes. he quickly steps inside, his eyes scanning the room for juno.

"are you alright?" he asks, his voice filled with concern. "you look absolutely exhausted. what’s going on with you?”

“i’m fine, she’s in my room..” and rafe saw all the tell-tale signs of a fever as he watched you lay down on the couch. he knows you’re not as ‘fine’ as you claim but doesn’t push the issue for now.

a year ago, rafe cameron was chaos incarnate. consumed by his demons, or maybe he was the demon. the outer banks was his kingdom, and as much as you don’t want to admit it, the rafe walking up the stairs to go see your daughter isn’t the same man you walked away from last summer.

decades of being ward cameron’s son don’t just vanish but having a daughter changed rafe in many ways no one thought was possible. he’s more conscious, more quiet, like he’s constantly trying to prove more to himself than to everyone that he was better than the man who raised him.

you’ve seen him with juno, the way he holds her like she’s the only thing that matters in the world.

rafe watches you as you lie down on the couch, he frowns when he sees how weak you look.

he turns and heads straight to the room where juno is crying. he walks over to the crib and leans over, gently scooping up the little girl, holding her close to his chest.

"hey, little one," he coos, his voice soft and soothing. "your dad’s here." juno immediately stops crying as rafe picks her up, her small body calming at the familiarity of his touch and voice. rafe rocks her in his arms, gently shushing her and whispering words of comfort.

"there you go," he murmurs, his fingers gently stroking her soft hair. "no more cries now, i’ve got you."

he walks back to the living room, holding juno close to his chest as he approaches you on the couch.

"hey," rafe says softly, his tone showing concern. "you really don't look well." he moves closer, gently resting a hand on your forehead to feel your temperature. as he suspected, your skin was hot to the touch.

you look up to see him with juno on his hip. “just take care of her for the night.” and your eyes nearly flutter shut.

rafe saw through the way your eyes struggled to stay open. he saw how sick you truly were, but you're trying so hard to hide it.

"damn it," he mutters, his voice tight with worry and frustration. "baby, you’re in no condition to take care of juno on your own right now. you need to rest, and i can't just leave knowing you're not okay."

rafe reluctantly looks down at juno in his arms, her tiny face looking up at him with wide trusting eyes. he then glances back at you, still lying on the couch, weakness written all over your face.

"i will," he replies firmly. "but first, I'm putting you to bed. you need to rest and get better. then I'll take care of the baby."

he heads up and carefully sets juno on the crib for a moment and then walks downstairs, over to the couch, gently scooping you up in his arms.

“put me down..” you whine. "no" rafe replies firmly, his grip on you tightening slightly. "you’re burning up with a damn fever. no condition to be worrying about juno right now." he carries you towards your bedroom, his arms holding you securely against his chest. though you protest, he ignores your weak struggles.

once he reaches your bedroom, he gently lays you down on the bed, making sure you're comfortable and settled. he pulls the covers up over you, tucking you in and smoothing back your hair from your forehead.

looking down at you, he can see how exhausted you really are, the fever taking a toll on your body. but his focus quickly shifts to the crib where juno is starting to cry again, her hunger growing stronger.

rafe watches you for a moment, concerned. the feeling of your skin under his touch tells him how high your fever really is. he glances over at the crib, juno’s cries growing louder.

"stay right here," he instructs you firmly. "i’ll feed our baby, then i’m coming back to check on you."

with a sigh, rafe picks juno up from the crib and brings her to the kitchen. he goes through the motions of preparing a bottle for juno, mixing the formula with warm water and shaking it gently until it's ready. he then sits down next to your bed, leaning back against the headboard while he carefully feeds juno the bottle.

his eyes occasionally flick to you, checking on your condition. even though he's busy feeding the baby, he keeps a watchful eye on you, noticing every shiver and every sign of discomfort in your sick state.

after a few minutes, juno is satisfied, her tiny belly full and content. she starts to drift off in rafe’s arms, her small eyes growing heavy.

he carefully passes the baby back to the crib and turns his attention back to you. he returns to your bedside and sits down, his eyes studying your pale and weary face. the sight of you in this state was devouring him from the inside.

your eyes flutter open. “rafe, take her to your house..” then you turn to the side, your back facing him.

rafe looks down at you, gently taking your hand in his own, it broke his heart a little. the fact that you're asking him to take juno now.

"baby," he murmurs, his voice gentle. "you’re still burning up. i can't just leave with juno while you're like this."

it was always like this with rafe. back then, whenever you didn’t want him to care for you, when you pushed him away, built your walls high, and told him you didn’t need him, he’d force it anyway. he had this annoying way of ignoring your protests, showing up when you least expected it with that hot stubborn determination in his eyes.

if you were sick, he’d be at your door with soup, even if he didn’t know how to make it. if you were upset, he’d sit next to you in silence, waiting until you caved. it didn’t matter how hard you tried to convince him you were fine; rafe never listened. he cared in the only way he knew how to care; recklessly, even when you swore you didn’t want him to. that part of him hasn’t changed at all.

“come on, she’s your only priority at the moment.” you try sending him away. his grip on your hand tightened a little at your words. “don't be fucking ridiculous," he retorts, his voice stern. "juno will be fine with me at my house. but you're not. you’re sick and need rest and care. i’m not just gonna abandon you like this. not happening."

“you don’t have to stay anyway… you’re not my husband or boyfriend or anything. you’re just her dad.”

rafe bites down at your words. he knows he’s nothing more to you than juno’s dad, but hearing you say it so bluntly still stings.

“no, i’m not your husband or boyfriend,” he replies, his tone sharper than intended. “but damn it, i still care about you, even if you don’t want me to.”

before you can respond, a shiver racks your body, your fever making you tremble. rafe notices immediately, his frustration giving way to concern.

“jesus, you’re burning up,” he mutters, leaning closer to place the back of his hand on your forehead. “why didn’t you tell me you were this bad?” he doesn’t wait for an answer. standing up, he moves to the kitchen, returning with a cool cloth. he gently presses it against your forehead, his jaw tight with worry.

“you’re in no condition to be alone right now,” he says firmly. “especially not with a fever this high. you need someone to take care of you, whether you like it or not.”

“take her,” you whisper, your voice weak. “i can take care of myself. you don’t have to do both.”

“damn it, will you just listen to me for once?” rafe snaps, his voice low but laced with irritation. “you’re not fine. you’re barely holding it together, and you want me to just walk away? why are you so goddamn stubborn?”

“i don’t need your help,” you insist, glaring at him weakly. “just watch juno. that’s all.”

rafe exhales sharply, trying to keep his temper in check.

“what’s it gonna take for you to get it through your head that you need support too?” he demands. “i care about both you and juno, you idiot. why can’t you just let me help you when you clearly need it?”

“and why does this concern you?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. his eyes narrow at your question, frustration bubbling over again.

“why do you think it concerns me?” he bites out, his voice rough. “you really have to ask that? you think i don’t care about you? you think i only see you as juno’s mom?”

you manage a breathy smirk, too weak to move but pleased nonetheless. “i knew it… son of a bitch.”

“knew what?” he challenges, his tone sharp. “that i actually give a damn about you more than you think? if you know, then why are you still fighting me on this? why are you so damn stubborn about letting me help?”

your smirk stays on your face, though your eyelids are already drooping from exhaustion.

“yeah, i care about you,” he admits, his voice quieter now. “you drive me absolutely fucking insane with how stubborn you are, but i still care. happy now?”

when you don’t respond, too tired to argue anymore, he shakes his head and adjusts the cool cloth on your forehead.

“i’m not leaving,” he says, and there’s no point in arguing. “someone has to take care of you since you clearly can’t be trusted to do it yourself.”

the room feels smaller with him in it, like his presence is closing in on you from all sides. he settles next to you, the mattress dipping slightly, and it’s awkward, too close for comfort, too familiar for what you are now. exes. nothing more.

“you’re gonna get sick,” you mumble, your voice scratchy and weak. “you don’t have to do this.”

“don’t care,” he says, not even looking at you. his voice is calm, steady. “you’re burning up. if i get sick, so what?”

you try to sit up, even though your body feels like it’s made of lead and your head pounds with every slight movement. the fever’s still got you in its grip, but lying there next to rafe feels like too much. too intimate. too close.

but the second you push yourself up, the world tilts. your balance wavers, and before you can steady yourself, your head drops against something solid.

his shoulder.

rafe lets out an annoyed sigh as he watches you struggle to get up, knowing full well that you're too weak to stand on your own.

"damn it, woman," he mutters as you collapse back onto him. "what did I tell you? you’re supposed to be resting, not trying to get up and walk around like a lunatic."

he gently wraps his arm around you, supporting your weakened body against him.

"just stay still and don't move," he whispers. "you’re in no condition to be up and about. you need to rest and recover. you know i’ll take care of you, right? stop trying to do everything on your own."

rafe gently runs his fingers through your hair, his touch light and soothing.

your hand finds its way to rafe’s arm, fingers gripping him weakly, as if holding on to him will keep you steady. rafe freezes at the touch, his gaze dropping to where your hand rests against his skin. it’s a simple gesture, but it feels like everything all at once.

he doesn’t pull away. instead, he shifts slightly, his own hand coming up to gently squeeze yours, his grip warm and steady, like he’s anchoring you.

“you’ll get better,” he murmurs. “just give it time and let yourself rest. let me look after you for once, okay?”

you think about the way things used to be. sneaking off when you had the chance, meeting him at the beach under the cover of darkness. stolen kisses, the kind that made your heart race. rafe was always the one who pushed boundaries, the one who made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t thought possible.

“are you sleeping over?” you ask weakly, your voice barely above a whisper.

rafe looks down at you, the question pulling him out of his thoughts. he takes in your pale face, the tired lines around your eyes, and sighs. part of him wants to say no, to avoid whatever this is turning into, but he knows he can’t leave you like this.

“yeah,” he says finally, his tone gentle but firm. “yeah, i’m sleeping here. someone needs to keep an eye on your stubborn ass so you don’t try to do chores at three in the morning.”

you let out a weak laugh, but it fades quickly. “you shouldn’t be here,” you mutter, shaking your head slightly. “it’s—it’s awkward. it’ll just make things weird.”

rafe arches a brow, his lips twitching into something between a smirk and a frown. “why are you acting like something’s gonna happen between us?” he counters, his tone light but laced with something deeper. “it’s fine. stop overthinking it and just… lay down. you’re not gonna win this argument.”

before you can protest, he gently guides you back down, his hand steady at your back. the warmth of his body against yours is impossible to ignore, but you’re too drained to fight it.

then, out of nowhere, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to your forehead. the gesture is so tender it takes your breath away, but you’re too tired to react.

as your eyelids grow heavier, your mind drifts back to the first time rafe said he loved you. it wasn’t in a quiet, romantic moment, it was in the middle of an argument. his voice had been loud, angry and raw, but it was real. rafe always let things spill out when he couldn’t hold them back anymore.

now, as sleep pulls you under, you hear his voice again, quieter this time.

“i miss you,” he whispers.

you don’t respond. maybe you’re too far gone, maybe you don’t want to. but maybe you miss him too.

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Ateez as Villains

disclaimer: read at your own risk. do not interact if not comfortable with any tropes. reminder that this is a work of fiction and must be treated so. 

warnings: absolutely no morals here, 18+ mdni, illegal acts (abduction, murder, physical abuse, stalking, trafficking, financial crimes, dirty politics, corruption), suggestive/nsfw scenes, explicit language (swearing, insults), death, violence, blood & injuries, weapons, smoking, drugs, alcohol

a/n: couldn't have done this without @eightmakesonebraincell's and @chronicvagabonds' validation lmao also tribute to tite kubo for coming up with the juiciest dialogues, some of which i quoted here

Hongjoong

The Manipulator

hongjoong always knew he had leadership skills

from being the team leader whenever he played games as a young child, to growing up and eventually influencing people

he was often told that he has a certain way of pulling people’s attention and leave something stirring inside them with his words

so it is no surprise that hongjoong is where he is today. a renowned businessman, philanthropist and… politician

hongjoong adjusts the sleeves of his shirt and glances at you from the mirror

you are standing behind him, holding his coat for him. he wears it with a proud smile and holds his chin high

“tonight is very important. for me. for this country.” 

he goes on about how there will be people from all over the country

people who are the foundation of this nation. people who care about the future of this world 

and if you weren’t so blinded by the adoration you have for this man you would have called him delusional

but the fact is that you are deluded by him. hongjoong has the ability to cast a spell with his words

he feeds his supporters the lie of a better world in the near future, and they bow to him

hongjoong smiles devilishly at the thought of what entails the events of tonight

he can picture it clearly- the cheers and desperate screams of his followers as he steps on the podium

the cries of these people, as helpless as sheeps in a herd, waiting for an upright politician to save this nation 

he can feel the thrill just imagining what it will be like tonight when he addresses the nation as the new face of his political party

to a common person, he would just be another man with a good heart striving for a better change

but the common person is weak, and for them… he is their salvation

they will hear his words tonight- words he has carefully crafted himself. the cues will register in their minds, and they will end up seeking him to announce their undying support and loyalty, to shower in his glory

you straighten hongjoong’s coat and smooth over his shirt, your hands unsteady with anticipation

“aren’t you happy to be right next to me when i conquer the stage tonight?” he whispers, lifting your chin up

you meet his eyes and he can see his answer there

you hope he doesn’t see the conflict in your eyes. the conflict is to be concealed in your heart, in the deepest, untouchable corner of it

you are blessed, they tell you, to be the politician’s favoured

and you are- you truly are. hongjoong loves you. he adores you

in fact… he’s almost obsessed with you

and why wouldn’t he be? you were the one who led him here

you were the one who held his hand and showed him the right path- his partner, and now his secretary

oh, how you sometimes wish you could turn back the hands of the clock and go back to when hongjoong was hopeless and thought that the world was a wretched place beyond saving

that is when you told him that the only way to run this world was to join hands with the elites of this nation- or to become one

it must be the fates that led him to where he is today

after all, isn’t he a king without a crown? a ruler without a throne?

he is a born leader and a strategist. he has always been good with his words

it’s how he earned the favour and graces of the elites and the politicians and made a place for himself- not under them, but beside them

but to stand beside those people, you have to be a little… corrupt. and morally ambiguous

the world is not run by saints, after all

“sweetheart?” he calls when he sees you are distracted

you don’t miss the warning tone in his voice. tonight, you have to be on your toes

you have to seek out willing supporters and show them that they mean the world to hongjoong and his political party

but more importantly… you need to target other politicians, find their weaknesses and if lucky, have some join hands with you

“i’m here,” you tell him and he nods firmly, pressing a kiss to your temple

“i will see you tonight,” he promises, and you know what he means

he always gets such a thrill out of playing the leader

he gets so much energy, and he has to take it out one way or another

and what better way to take it out in the form of lovemaking?

you feel warmth course through your body as he trails his finger down the middle of your chest purposely

he almost smiles maniacally as he leaves first, giving you a moment to gather your wits

you pour yourself a glass of drink- you can’t possibly do this sober

you join hongjoong as he gives his first speech- a very normal talk about how this nation is on the verge of collapse

corruption, crime, inhumanity, dirty politics? you name it

you admire his resilience, really. whatever he is talking about comes straight from his heart, and he has been talking about these issues for a long time now

you also admire his pompousness and the audacity to talk about dirty politics, when he is the face of dirty politics

you join the audience when they clap for him, your heart full of pride

there is a break where he meets with the high-profile people and asks them to consider joining hands with him

‘to make a better world for the future generations’. such inspiring words from such a young political leader

except hongjoong’s trick is that he always, always has something over them

he has a team dedicated specifically for this task- to dig dirt on his political targets so he can wield them like the blade of a guillotine over their heads

despite his evil means to climb the top, somehow, his image and reputation remains far too clean

and that is because he knows to take these actions behind the scenes, away from any eyes

a true politician, he’s been dubbed

it is about midnight when the hall almost empties, leaving only the members of your party and some new faces- people who are willing to hear him out and decide if they want to join his party

you wish you could tell them that it is a trap- hongjoong will promise that their efforts and support will lead them to something great

‘the greater good’, he always says, except these people do not know what they are getting into

they are merely sacrificial lambs, the stepping stones that will lead hongjoong closer to his utopia

they will, for the sake of loyalty, put a blindfold over their eyes. they will hold him in high reverence as he becomes their lord, their saviour

he will feed them copper pellets and claim that this is the best that they can get while he himself sits on a throne made of gold

and when they empty every last drop of whatever they have to offer- their blood, sweat and tears

hongjoong will discard them without remorse. that is who he is- a master manipulator

when you are done wrapping up the event in the deep, dark hours of the night, hongjoong finds you in your bedroom

his chest is heaving with energy that is threatening to combust from within him

he outstretches his hand and you saunter over to him

his hands are dominating when he holds you, though his kiss is soft and unrushed

until that too becomes scalding hot

he is quick to lead you to the couch where you sit on his lap, finding him painfully hard

he groans loudly and starts to unbuckle his pants, and you instantly know what he wants- you always know what he wants

he easily slides his hard length inside your warmth and groans heavily in relief, resting his head back and just letting you both stay still

you only move to rest your head against his shoulder. he can have you like this for as long as he wants

“we have a lot of new supporters tonight,” he begins, chuckling deeply, “the polls seem to be in our favour too.”

his dark curls caress your face as you snuggle against him

“we also managed to score deals with many influential politicians and businessmen tonight,” he tells you and you look at him with pride as he names them

“soon,” he begins, trailing his hands under your dress and squeezing your thighs, “soon… we will have our people in every sector- in business, healthcare, industrial, courts… we will be controlling the nation- we… we are the leaders of this nation.”

his cock twitches inside you as he finishes that sentence and you bite your lips in thought

“what are you thinking, love?” he asks, caressing your face

“i just sometimes wonder,” you begin- can you admit your bare thoughts to him?

he squeezes your thigh as a sign to go ahead

“i wonder how we got here, joong,” you admit, “you know that we are exploiting people-”

“for the greater good-”

“for the greater good, yes,” you finish, nodding and he furrows his brows in concentration

“these people are just like us. we were once slaves of this society, but now we are the leaders. and they are our slaves. but…”

“they will offer us what they have,” hongjoong replies softly, “and we will make the best out of it. isn’t that right?”

you nod. there is no more space for any more questioning

you have never like the darkness in his eyes when you question his- your- methods

all he knows is that he is right

he knows what he is doing is wrong in essence, but it is about the bigger picture- he is doing this for his nation

and you cannot expect to run a nation claiming to be a saint

the nation is run by wolves, and to make space there, you must be some sort of a predator. that is who he has become

his grip on your thighs tighten and he starts to grind your body on him

between the sounds of pleasure is the groan of pain as he spanks your thighs and remind you of your place

“all you have to do is follow me,” he breathes into your ear, trailing his lips across your cheek. “all you have to do is stay with me. together…” he thrusts hard inside you. “together, we will rule the world one day, you and i.”

you nod and he swallows your moans as he kisses you, thrusting with all his might until you both come crashing down

he takes you to the shower and you both quickly clean up and get in bed

as you watch his figure relax and succumb to sleep, you confess to him

“you are a great politician, hongjoong,” you tell him and the corners of his lips curl in a smile. “i’m just afraid of going too far with you. every day, we learn that we can get worse than we are, yet…”

“yet, it has become my addiction and my duty,” he whispers, hand finding your bare arm and caressing it. “don’t you want to rule the world?”

“you will rule the world. i will be treading on your shadow, following you closely and sharpening my teeth… but afraid.”

“afraid of what?”

“of you,” you breathe and he opens one eye

“you won’t leave me, will you?” he asks innocently, yet it is there- the warning in his tone

you are responsible for who he is today. you are an accomplice

every person he ruins to get closer to the top, you are equally responsible for it

“of course not,” you tell him, “i can’t leave you.”

hongjoong notices your choice of words

you can not leave him- you do not have a choice

he holds you close and kisses you like he means it that night

it would be such a shame if he would have to throw you away after all of this, right? 

it would truly be such a shame if you are just like the others in the end- weak and helpless

since you know exactly what is going on inside hongjoong’s head, you tell him you love him like you really mean it and you let him hold you close

it may be a trap, but you don’t mind being trapped if this is where you end up every night- in his arms

your lord, your saviour

The Manipulator and the Manipulated

Seonghwa

Jekyll

park seonghwa is a man who is adored wherever he goes

be it at work- at a prestigious university as a neuroscience professor, dr. park, or at social gatherings, formal or informal

he is a man born with the best manners, the most caring and generous heart

you’ve seen him around the department as a masters student and attended a few of his classes 

but you never got to interact with him personally until it’s time to choose a thesis supervisor and you learn that you have a chance with him

it’s purely because he’s amazing at what he does 

your subfield matches with his specialty so it will be better if he’s your supervisor (and it’s only a bonus that the man is painfully hot so you’ll never be bored)

your professor recommends you to seonghwa and he goes over your synopsis which leaves him intrigued because coincidentally, he’s researching in molecular neuroscience as well

he gladly takes you on because he believes you both will be helping each other along the way

plus, he recognises your name- you’ve always had a different air about you (and he remembers you from somewhere else too)

he’s looking forward to working with you, that’s all

so when you arrive on your first day as his supervisee and research assistant

you catch him in his natural habitat- unaware of his surroundings, humming a tune to himself and swiping his hair hurriedly to the side with the hand that’s holding a clear solution of some sort while struggling not to drop his notes on the table that has a few microscope slides 

basically, moments away from a disaster

he spots you and grunts as if asking for help and you immediately drop your bag to rush towards him, only now noticing that somehow, he’s holding his glasses by his teeth

you first take those out of his mouth and he groans in relief. “can you please help me wear my glasses? those cultures are moments away from expiring.”

“oh goodness,” you mutter and you lock eyes with him as you put on his glasses for him

and your intrusive thoughts take over because you simply cannot take how his hair is poking his eyes so you gently brush his hair out of his eyes

for a moment, time is frozen for all sorts of reasons

before seonghwa takes a deep breath and you blink, immediately getting out of his way and holding his notes for him

the notes apparently hold the readings on how much solution he needs to pour so you read it for him and consequently save him from a disaster

as soon as he is done freezing the cultures, he holds the edge of the table to save himself from slumping in relief

and you share a laugh, the ice breaking just like that

he tells you that the student assigned for taking care of the cultures had an emergency and he had to rush from another department

and he thanks you for helping him

you both move to his office to go over your thesis and he helps you create a timeline

you wrap up the meeting with a clear direction of what’s next and with a schedule of shifts where you will be assisting him

it doesn’t take long to get used to being a part of his team of five calm students with a little streak of crazy

and you suppose dr. park has an eye for people like that because you fit right in

you are all very dedicated so he seems to be at ease when you are working, though he does monitor you more closely since you’re new

you start to spend more time in the lab simply because you like how it feels there

it is like a little cocoon where you can tune out the rest of the world and work on your thesis without distractions (plus, it helps how people from your team pop in once in a while to throw some suggestions at you)

you like how it is there- neat and clean

the sound of metal against metal, glass against glass. the smell of the cleaning agent which calms you since it is something familiar now

and then there’s dr. park himself, gentle and composed, yet at times clumsy and rough which results in the room cackling with laughter

however, there’s a side to him that you only see when you’re alone with him

you’re not sure if he’s like that with everyone- he must be, right?

does he pay as much attention to everyone else as you?

perhaps, you’re delusional. that must be it

seonghwa knows you must think that, because he has not been very obvious but he has not been subtle either

it’s just that he remembers you from that time. he remembers seeing your face in his friend wooyoung’s data

wooyoung, who is an expert at singling out people like them

people like seonghwa who have a little streak of crazy in them, yet manage to be a part of the society almost seamlessly

wooyoung’s company does a good job at managing these people because they ultimately help the black market grow

seonghwa is half convinced wooyoung’s company is just a faction of the government but of course he can’t confirm that

all he knows is that he cannot act out too much and get caught

in return, he knows when someone like him is in his radar

here you are, glasses perched on the tip of your nose as you examine different slides under the microscope, muttering to yourself about the readings as your scribble them

he can’t help but notice how you always wear that one specific shade of deep red on your lips or how your hair falls in the most irresistible way in front of your face

he’s never looked at a student this way- ever- but you’re not just a student now, are you?

so when he makes his move, approaching you from behind as silently as he can

he’s not disappointed when you turn- he didn’t make a sound, yet you knew

you’re not even surprised, and that excites seonghwa to no end

“ah, dr. park,” you go casually, as if him sneaking behind you was normal behaviour. “can you approve of these hypotheses?”

seonghwa hums and stands awfully close to you, your sides brushing against each other

he purposely crowds in your personal space as he leans in to confirm the readings of the specimens on the table

“everything’s perfect,” he announces, meeting your eyes

you’re still sitting so you have to look up at him and lord. what a sight he is even from this angle. you could totally get used to it-

“what are you looking at, sweetheart?” seonghwa smirks knowingly 

you have to physically struggle to maintain your composure because you are pretty sure you were gawking

“nothing, just zoned out,” you say, which isn’t a lie but not the whole truth either

he knows though. he knows the effect he has on you because he hasn’t been subtle

from the casual touches to the unnecessary (but not undeserved) praise

from the prolonged eye contact to the suggestive smirks

there is something electric between the two of you, an undeniable tension

and while you’re not one who sticks to the rules, you can’t help but wonder just why is dr. park playing with you?

“you sure you’re okay?” seonghwa leans in and searches your eyes for any signs of lies

upon finding none but gaining satisfaction from the way your lips part in surprise, he draws back 

you try your best not to make things awkward for the rest of the time you’re with him

and in the following days, his advances only start becoming stronger in nature

you like the attention he gives you. you like how he always puts his hands on your shoulders and gives them a little squeeze whenever he finds you sitting

you like the way his warm breath caresses your cheek when you’re both sitting side by side inspecting a specimen

you enjoy the sound of his gentle voice as he instructs you

it’s almost as if he knows. it’s almost as if he’s asking for it

does he not know that once you become obsessed with something, you’ll try- no, you will possess it at all costs?

so one night when you’re both working at late hours, busy with wrapping up one section of your thesis

you can’t take it when seonghwa scolds you teasingly for being clumsy 

“you’ve got pen on your chin,” he says and before you can take care of it, he himself scoots closer-

too close for it to be professional anymore because at this point, he can probably count the freckles on your face too-

and begins to rub at your the skin near your lips gently

he frowns when it doesn’t come off, and then he has the audacity to lick his thumb and rub your skin again

“dr. park,” you mutter, about to remind him how you are supposed to be a teacher and student

you’re not friends (despite the very friendly relationship you have developed with him)

seonghwa only hums and you can’t help but notice how he stifles a smirk as he moves his thumb to your lower lip and swipes it, all the while maintaining eye contact

you raise a brow in challenge, silently questioning why he’s still holding your chin

he leans in as if to kiss you and you stop breathing

except he tilts his head to whisper in your ear

“would you like to attend the next soul society meeting with me, love?”

to say that you freeze is an understatement

you don’t move when his lips caress your cheeks as he stays in that position

you don’t move when he purposely trails his lips along your cheek as he draws back

“what’s your classification?” you manage to ask, your voice barely a whisper

the way seonghwa smirks is something you’ll never forget

“jekyll,” he says. “nice to meet you, hyde.”

there’s a moment of silence where all you can do is stare at the man in front of you

a moment of pure static

as soon as you take off your mask and your lips curl in a smirk, it happens

you don’t know who took the first step but you’re both kissing each other

it’s rushed, passionate and desperate, the air filling with your grins and giggles and you’re only glad you’re not in the lab right now because the way seonghwa clears the table with a swipe of his hand, making the notes fall on the ground

only to lift you up and seat you there so he can kiss you better? being in the lab would have done some damage alright

between kisses, you learn how seonghwa recognised you

you ask him if he lured you here somehow, but he tells you it’s just luck that you’re here as his student right now. you don’t quite believe him though

but you let it be- if he’s jekyll, that means he’s got the brains to scheme

he tells you that he’s glad to have found his hyde because he would prefer someone else to do his dirty work for him

you agree- it’s been far too long since you’ve had an adventure, and you’ve heard about the notorious jekyll in the soul society too. you just never connected the dots

he takes you to his private lab (not before feasting on you and fucking you on that very table)

for the next few weeks, you familiarise yourself with his actual research

mind altering chemicals and drugs, anything to do with control

very illegal stuff, but the soul society funds him with whatever he needs

he can’t believe he found you- you’re perfect for him

seonghwa believes he has morals and he can be a good person

so you make the perfect partner because you can be the bad person in his stead

you’re his alter ego, the voice in his head that he never lets come out

you’re the person who not only matches his freak but helps bring it into manifestation. you are now his face

while he advances in molecular neuroscience in the world, you advance, on his behalf, in the underworld

there’s no blood on your hands- you both only produce drugs. you’re not responsible for what is done with them

you do sometimes assist in the practical work, which seonghwa avoids, because after all, he has a reputation to maintain as dr. park

no one suspects a thing. you’re just supervisor and supervisee who share a similar obsession with research

nothing to worry about

Jekyll and Hyde

Yunho

The Hunter

when you finally got to a blind date that your friend begged you to go to, you didn’t expect to meet a man who would actually catch your eye

there is something about this man, jeong yunho, that instantly pulls you in as if you really are tied by a thread 

for starters, he is incredibly handsome and has a soft vibe to him that exudes warmth

his voice has a soothing quality and his mannerisms are as gentle as his gaze. his laugh is pure and he makes quite a good company

he just makes you feel comfortable and safe right away, which is kind of surprising

so when yunho tells you about himself, confirming that he is indeed a corporate lawyer at a well-known firm, you are simply in awe

you thought your friend was bluffing when she told you that she is trying to set you up with a ‘beauty with brains’

she was not lying, is all you can think now

you’re a simple school teacher, you tell yunho with a laugh

however, the man’s eyes are practically twinkling as he hears your stories about school 

you’re only telling him because he insisted, and now he can’t stop appreciating your profession, saying that it’s admirable how you are able to connect with children and educate them

the conversation steers to your likes and dislikes, your preferences, and what you’re looking for in a partner

surprisingly, the two of you have a lot in common

you both have a special place in your heart for food. you both love travelling. and there are some things he does not need to say out loud 

like how he’s a caring person- always making sure you’re comfortable and your bowl is full, draping his coat over your shoulders when you leave the restaurant and scour the streets for something sweet

the hand that he offers you is not suggestive and you like that (you also like how tall he is and how his hand engulfs yours almost entirely)

just two people who talk about anything and everything- that’s who you become by the end of the night

as you settle in bed later, you’re still smiling about how his eyes twinkled when he learned that you too have a thing for gaming too

you have good feelings about this person so far but there’s a feeling scratching at your heart that has you restless

it is the way his eyes darkened almost dangerously, only momentarily, when you insisted that you could get home on your own

he was a gentleman, no doubt about it, insisting that you could never be too sure these days especially with the news being so horrible lately, the crime rate spiking up dramatically in the past few months

you just did not like the idea of having a stranger accompany you all the way to your home, even if it was this gentleman- this was only your first meeting

so he made you promise to call him and let him know when you get home 

and here you are. you dated him for a few months before you both decided to move in together into an apartment that suited your needs

he’s perfect in every way- attentive, responsive, caring, funny, and he gives you space when you need it

which matters the most because you value your personal space a lot

he understands the importance of personal space very well and even though you share a room, you both let each other be 

you let him be when he’s gaming, and he lets you be when you’re staring at the ceiling or reading

more often though, he’ll have you sit on his lap as he games

since he’s so much bigger than you, you’ll curl on top of him to read or scroll and he’ll be focused on his game, liking your presence

it doesn’t always lead to something but when it does, it’s always fun

he has you smitten- his kisses still make you feel like it’s your first time sharing a kiss (and he’s damn good at it)

his touch lingers on your skin throughout the day and you cannot wait to be back in his arms again

it is just another night when you decide to walk and take the longer route back home because apparently yunho was going to be late and you did not want to be home alone

it gets quieter as you navigate through the streets and alleys

and when you take a turn and notice a familiar figure, you stop in your tracks

is that… not yunho? the back and the height looks pretty much the same

the man is watching a woman at the end of the street who is using her phone as if waiting for someone

the woman catches the man watching her and grows wary- you can tell even from the distance

you can tell that she is very much pretending to be on call when she starts moving

despite every cell in your body urging you to ignore this and go back home, you start to follow the man when he starts to follow the woman

you are careful to maintain a distance, cursing yourself internally for being a curious little shit who seeks thrill like there’s no tomorrow

but the woman takes a left, and the man takes a right, leaving you standing in the middle of the street, taking a few deep breaths

nothing happened, you think. you turn and start to trace your path back

and just a minute later, there’s an unmistakable sound of a woman’s scream filling the air

every hair on your body rises as your heart drops and eyes widen

you’re frozen in one spot with no idea what to do next- should you go check on the woman? see if it was the same person? 

not once do you think of calling the police though

you walk back home, lost in your thoughts with the image of the man’s familiar figure branded in your mind especially since you are pretty damn sure that those were little sunflowers embroidered on the hem of the hoodie

sunflowers that you embroidered on yunho’s hoodie

when you open the door to your apartment, though, you hear the sound of the TV and yunho is sitting very casually on the couch

“ah, you’re home,” he grins and waves, just like he usually does

he’s not wearing the hoodie anymore

“i thought you were gonna be late?” you ask

“you’re late,” he counters. “why did it take you so long to get home?”

“just decided to take a walk,” you smile, ruffling his hair and planting a kiss on the top of his head before going to your room 

you grab your clothes and move towards the bathroom to take a shower, and it is then that yunho’s eyes widen

“ah, babe?” he calls, his voice uncharacteristically high

when you don’t answer, he rushes towards the bathroom and finds you standing in the doorway

your eyes are fixed on the sink which is a pale shade of pink with handprints on it

yunho curses himself internally- he rushed to hide his hoodie as soon as he got home, jumped in the shower, spotted the bloody sink from when he first washed his hands and decided to make it look like he had been home for a while before cleaning the sink

only he fucking forgot

it doesn’t look as bad- it’s not a bloody red, for starters

“ah, i forgot to clean that up,” yunho awkwardly laughs, proceeding to move inside and open the tap, taking a sponge and cleaning the edges of the sink

yeah. it does not look that bad

“i accidentally spilled that red ink you have in the room- i don’t know why i got curious and messed with it.”

that’s not the colour of your ink, though, and you know it never leaves stains like these

“don’t worry about it,” you tell him, but your eyes are wider than usual. yunho notices that

he lets you shower in peace, all the while thinking if you suspect something

truth be told, he saw you when you were following him back there which is why he took another turn to mislead you

he also knows you are far too observant for your own good

he can’t lie- one of the reasons he fell for you is because of that. you are just like him

though you are free of sin unlike him, your mind is a mess

you notice too much that is not meant to be noticed. you sometimes say things that even he has not thought about. you question if human morals are an actual thing or a made up construct

is it from reading too much fiction? he thinks not

when you come out of the shower, something possesses you to move to the balcony

and that’s another thing yunho likes about you (which also scares him a little at times)

it is your intuition- which leads you to inspect the little corner where you pile up useless stuff. you can see the sleeve of his hoodie there

you pick it up and find it wet in certain spots

on its black base, you can’t tell what it is, but the sunflowers are stained a suspicious red colour, and it’s definitely not your ink 

you look towards your right where yunho is standing, vigilant

there is a moment of silence before you lower the hoodie 

“it really was you,” you say, unwavering

your heart is not speeding because you’re scared- it is speeding because you are right

yunho is still, contemplating how to deal with this

did he think he could hide his secret from you forever? no. was he prepared in case he gets caught? no

he just never imagined it would unfold like this

and now… will he have to hurt you if you threaten to expose him? he can’t bear to hurt a hair on your head

you bring out all the good in him. he does not know how you do that, but you make him believe that he can love with all of his heart too, just like any other person

you make him feel whole, and it would be such a shame if things fall apart now

to his surprise, you drop the hoodie back and walk towards him until there’s little distance between the two of you

you hold both of his hands in yours and look at him earnestly

“are you going to tell me what you have been up to?”

yunho is surprised at how calm your voice is and how accepting your eyes are

he sighs deeply before steering you to the couch in the living room

and then he bares his heart to you

he is a monster. that is it. he hurts people and it satisfies this ugly part of him

he does not always want to, he justifies, but sometimes, he just can’t help it

and the only reason he gets away with it is because he is not stupid and carefully chooses his victims- people who are miserable. people who have no one around them

“well then… i’m lucky to have one person in my life, right?”

yunho’s eyes widens at your response

you fulfil the criteria of being his victim- you have no one 

you have no one but him- how did that happen?

he thinks back to your first date and he can’t help but feel overwhelmed

he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his head about to explode 

why are you not running away from him? why are you caressing his head and holding him close?

you don’t tell him everything right away. you only ask him to trust you

so he trusts you and waits for you

he learns little bits about you- you, who do not care who yunho is, as long as he is transparent with you

you, who has a twisted sense of morality. you, who might be as bad as yunho, even worse

though, your hands are clean, you tell him sarcastically, it’s just your head that is a mess

and it’s a blessing that you two are together and can be honest about this too, right? how lucky you are to have each other

“you, without sin, are like the sun,” he tells you one night as he kisses the top of your head and holds you close

“you, even with sin, are like the sun,” you respond.

The Hunter and His Guide

Yeosang

The Mad Scientist

there is something about the innocent features of his face, the gentleness in his mannerism, the absolute ethereal aura about him

that contrasts strikingly with the pitch black (or maybe, just two shades lighter) of his soul

the man only knows how to scheme and how to take the best possible route towards his goals

the goals are all related to science

sure, he is contributing to the scientific area, doing researches no one else would do

doctor kang yeosang- a scientist and philosopher, held in high reverence in the medical field, contributing with numerous researches centering the human body

nobody needs to know exactly how he gets such extensive, solid results to support his theories

he comes off as a soft-spoken man, someone who possesses a kind heart

he is willing to overwork himself in order to make life easier for others

he is much appreciated by his peers

they don’t need to know that behind his neat and professional setup is a dark, cold space that holds his real workspace

the endless corridors lined with shelves upon shelves of jars 

jars containing the human body parts within them

from the brain to the spleen, from the heart to the liver

each jar meticulously lined in an organisation such that only yeosang could close his eyes and know where to pick what he needs

each organ in the jar has a story of the human that it once was- the story that yeosang himself scribes and tucks in the safe (and in a corner of his heart)

taking it out only to read and reminiscence, or to make another addition

such as the one that he is about to make now, sauntering with an almost skipping manner, highlighting his delight in the events about to unfold

his pristine white lab coat flows behind him, a symbol of everything that he would not be doing tonight, which only adds to the irony of it all

he finds you mirroring his expressions, eyes wide with anticipation and lips curled in a stifled smile

and he can’t help but smile wider, the sound of his footsteps echoing loudly as he speeds towards you so that he can finally hold you after the long day he had, tired of playing it cool in front of everyone

you are snaking your arms around his neck immediately as he bends down to capture your lips in a fierce kiss, earning a surprised but pleased yelp from you

you let him have his moment, kissing him back with equal passion until he draws away and rests his forehead against your shoulder

“long day, huh?” you press your lips against his temple. “how did the presentation go?”

the presentation being at a conference of the national medical association where yeosang was the chief guest, awarded for his valuable insights to the medical world

“i sometimes wonder if i’m the only one wearing a mask,” yeosang confesses.

you know what he means

there surely must be others just like him

you can’t expect to make medical advancements while sticking to the stupid laws and regulations they have carved for you

the medical associations do not allow anyone freedom 

“it’s tiring to pretend my research was simply a result of my team’s hard work,” yeosang continue, “they didn’t do batshit. i wish i could credit you instead.”

“but you can’t,” you caress his dark locks. “that would certainly raise suspicion since i’m… underqualified.”

well, that’s arguable 

you may not be as good as yeosang at what you do but considering that you come from a non-medical background, yeosang would say that you are pretty close

in fact, overqualified

“i don’t think there’s anyone more qualified than you,” yeosang lifts his head to look up at you, eyes scanning your face. “you’re an expert of the human body.”

you are an expert, that is true

you did what you had to do to survive as a young girl who lost her way

you were meant to be a test subject yourself but you created your own path and proved that you were good with your hands- almost artistic

and that you could open up humans as long as you had a good knife

your skills were a bit rusty when yeosang found you in the black market

but he was thoroughly impressed and made an offer. it was an offer that you couldn’t resist 

you would no longer be bound to be a slave for the rest of your life

you would be his equal. an accomplice 

“but you are the mad scientist. i’m just your unofficial assistant,” you pat his cheek in answer

it’s a wonder that you’re here now, in his arms

a muffled sound interrupts your little moment

you both steer towards the big room and yeosang looks around for a moment to take in the glory of his workplace

the crisp white walls and clean tiles smelling of antiseptic, marred with red stains of blood that is dripping from the man’s limbs

the man who is currently tied to a stretcher in the middle of the room

the instruments and tools that he would be using tonight to open his test subject up are glinting with silver, ready to be used

he has chosen the perfect target- a relatively healthy, middle-aged homeless man

really, no one would care if he went missing

in fact, you were doing him a favour by putting an end to his miserable life, right?

surely, he did not wish to live without a home and the means to survive

though here he was, sedated but struggling nonetheless, as if finally having found the will to live

“ah, he created a mess,” yeosang begins, clicking his tongue in disappointment as he inspects the bruises around the man’s wrists. “i’m sorry you had to wait so long, hmm?”

it’s almost eerie, how yeosang’s voice drips with pity

but that’s what you like about him

he thinks of the greater good. he is doing all of this for the greater good

there is no personal desire to kill random human beings, no

he simply needs test subjects to study the human body, so there can be advancements in the medical world

he just can’t believe that the world does not have a cure or even a prevention for most of the diseases in this age

he has taken it upon himself to contribute to the medical world so people do not have to suffer anymore

he complains about this a lot 

if people had guts, they would have done this ages ago

sometimes, he refers to the awful medical experiments done by humankind- especially on women

he is different from them, he claims

he cares about their pain- that is why he makes sure to make his subjects’ death quick and painless before he starts to conduct his experiments

it’s just too bad that he doesn’t have much time after the person passes to study certain functions of a living human

(so sometimes, he makes exceptions and asks god for forgiveness. easy peasy)

you watch yeosang with a sort of wonder and a little something that resembles fear as he caresses the man’s head in farewell

he asks the man to say his last words, to choose them carefully, to take his time and to make peace with the fact that there is no way out

the sedatives seem to have made the man somewhat placid

the test subject stops resisting to lock eyes with the doctor 

he says something about the regrets he’s had in his life and how he just wants his misery and pain to end now

yeosang’s brows are furrowed in concentration as he listens to each and every word, nodding along as if he aims to fulfil every desire this man possesses 

his hand is gently caressing the man’s head

when the man is done, yeosang tells him that his contribution to medical research won’t be forgotten

he looks at you to find you already staring at him with an unreadable expression

he signals you to get the job done and you inject the medicine meant to stop the man’s heart

you watch the man take his last breath, his face contorting in pain as his heart ceases to function

yeosang has already moved on from the little moment he had, putting on medical gloves and snapping them against his skin rather dramatically

“let’s get to work, shall we?”

you smile in response, following his instructions

soon, you are testing the functioning of the man’s abdominal organs with various equipment and drugs that yeosang has bought from the black market 

you have to work quickly before necrosis begins and hinders you

yeosang is very careful with his methods. his hands are steady as if he has done this a thousand times already 

and though he comes off as clumsy in the public eye, he is anything but here

his eyes are focused, darting between the electrodes placed on the man’s liver to the readings on the screen

it goes on like this for a while, yet another failed experiment as the liver fails to respond as desired to the electric shock and necrosis takes over

it doesn’t disappoint any of you though

yeosang has a strong vision and no amount of failed experiments is going to stop him 

plus, there’s always something you learn even from failure

you begin to clean up when you notice a broken nail lying on the stretcher

you pick it up with tweezers and inspect it- it must have broken when the man was struggling to break free

yeosang catches you looking at the discoloured nail with curiosity and he hums in question

“hair and fingernails are beautiful ornaments.” you ask, “so why do they seem so baleful when they are removed? 

yeosang stands beside you, pondering

“the answer is simple. they are previews of what is to come. of death.”

you look at him to find his eyes twinkling with the knowing glint of someone who’s seen it all

after you both finish recording the data of tonight’s session, yeosang is back to being the cute and clumsy person that you absolutely adore

the man is craving chicken after today’s hard work so you fulfil his wish and take him to his favourite place

you both sit across each other, drinking beer and savouring the juicy meat while talking about casual stuff- just an assistant and her boss

just two friends who met by chance and felt an instant pull towards each other

just two lovers, fated to be together and find solace in each other’s company

as if the stars have aligned for you yet again, a familiar face walks in and sits on the table next to you

you meet yeosang’s eyes and you both stifle a smile

it’s one of the potential test subjects you’ve had in your file, due for observation

and what better observation than to sit next to them in a casual setting and eavesdrop naturally?

yeosang raises his beer glass in toast and you share a knowing smile, raising your own glass in toast 

just two partners in crime. that’s who you are

The Mad Scientist and his Accomplice

San

Executioner

choi san works hard during the day

he goes to the school and makes sure his students are in top shape

as their p.e. teacher and coach, he has every student’s physical status on his fingertips

he knows their strengths and their weaknesses. he also knows their desires

so if a student is not a good runner but wants to run better, he would never tell them to give up, he would personally coach them and make sure they know that their body is not the limit

they can be a good runner, a good player, a good swimmer- anything

as long as they are steadfast, they can conquer the world

so choi san is loved and respected by the students, known to be a very caring teacher

but choi san works harder at night. no one needs to know that

certainly not his colleagues who always go about how hardworking a teacher he is

when he is free from the school, he goes to his home and changes before driving to his friend’s place- a warehouse where a few of you hang out

someone programmes, another composes, another works out

just an innocent hideout that you’re all using even in your early thirties

except that you also huddle around to read the new request you receive on your app

“i am a twenty-one year old female. two years ago, the man who dated my older sister killed her, but due to lack of evidence, he did not receive the jail time he deserves. he claims that he is innocent, but ever since he got out, he’s been bothering me because he had to serve his short sentence anyway. he is threatening to kill my family and then me if i go to the cops. i am scared to leave the house because he is stalking me and i can always see him wherever i go. please help me. i won’t go to the cops anyway- they didn’t do anything then, and they will not do anything now.”

san is contemplating if he should accept this request

you look at wooyoung who is immediately weighing the pros and the cons

you look back at san who is still deep in thought and you gently rest your hand on his thigh, bringing him out of his head

“i’ll take it,” he mutters. “accept the request, y/n.”

you nod and go back to the computer to accept the request

you have a phone call conversation with the client where you set up a meeting

it’s you and wooyoung who go to meet with the respective parties. san works in the shadows

the next night, san finds you deep in thought outside, leaning against the worn out wall of the warehouse

he joins you, hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans

“i know what you’re thinking,” san begins, glancing at you. “you’ve been awfully quiet since the meeting.”

you shrug in defeat. “i know i can’t change your mind.”

“it’s not going to be the same,” san refers back to the one time you all took a request from a 19 year old girl who was being bullied by her seniors

it got to a dangerous point and had you been a little late, you might have lost the girl

san lost his temper that time, though

and while he couldn’t physically harm the kids who were bullying the girl, he had them locked in a room for one night while he educated them

and funnily enough, san was scarier that night

scarier than every other time he actually wields a weapon

you asked him that night if there were any just people left in this world full of evil

“all people are evil. to believe that you are just, you must believe that someone else is more evil than you”

was his response. safe to say, the girl was living her best life now, but you saw a new side of san that night

a side you had never seen all your life, and that was saying something since you were childhood friends

“we won’t let it get to that point,” san assured, outstretching your hand and you pouted before taking it

he caressed your knuckles, his voice assertive. “i will take care of it. properly. i always do.”

“do you think i only worry about things going wrong?” you finally say out loud, the words that you want to say to him every time he goes out in the field 

san, despite himself, breaks into a smile that would seem so out of character to anyone who has not known him for long

“you can’t smile your way out of this,” you sulk further, snatching your hand away and folding your arms

“baby,” san begins, trying to take your hand again but you’re not having any of it

“i’m worried you’ll get hurt. i’m worried about the pain you’re willing to go through so you can lessen the pain of others.”

san stops teasing then, mimicking your position as he leans against the wall next to you

there is a thick silence surrounding you and you wonder what wooyoung is doing inside- is he napping?

“it’s something i have to do. something only i can do. you know that, right?”

“i know,” you say, almost a whisper. “and that’s what makes this more frustrating.”

because it was originally your idea

on a summer night when you were all about to graduate, a tragedy happened in your town

a man went on a spree, killing and wounding multiple women and children for weeks

you, who knew one of the victims personally, were shocked by the act and disgusted at how lazy the police were being

it turned out that the assailant was a high-profile businessman and the police were trying to cover the case up as per the orders of their superiors

the three of you were hanging out in the warehouse, each burdened by their own train of thoughts, until you finally said it out loud

“what if we were some sort of a private service where we help the victims? especially when the police can’t?”

it was wooyoung who agreed first, and san who disagreed

it took him some convincing to finally agree, and you set rules

you were not going to kill anyone- only maim

if it’s a serial killer, you maim their hands so they can never hold a weapon again

if it’s a bully, you maim their mouth so they think before they speak

the three of you are a team, but san is the executioner

wooyoung is his eyes and feet, and you are the brains

so it is ironic how worried you are about san now, when you gave him this role

“i know that i can get hurt,” san begins, taking a deep breath. “but there is no pain as long as i keep my eyes on the balance scale.”

this time, when he outstretches his hand, you take it. he plants a sweet kiss on your knuckles

“don’t worry about me, hmm?” he tugs you closer so you can rest your head against his firm chest as he embraces you. “i can’t focus when you’re so worried.”

“i can’t help it,” you tell him. “you’ll just have to get used to it.”

san lifts your face with his thumb below your chin, his brows furrowed with concentration and worry as he looks at you

his eyes are sharp as he scans you so you smile

immediately, his body relaxes and the corners of his lips curl in a smile as he pecks your lips- once, twice

and it is about to turn into a deeper kiss when wooyoung claps loudly to get your attention

“alright, lovebirds. get inside. we have a heads-up.”

you scowl at wooyoung who smirks in response but you both immediately join the youngest inside

your client has texted to let you know that she’s about to go out so you can stalk her stalker

you and wooyoung take your equipment to the van and san prepares himself 

he’ll be observing tonight, but he is prepared in case the stalker catches on

just like that, you observe the stalker for a few days, assuring your client that she is safe

you plan a trap to lure the stalker to an abandoned area where san will have a little chat with the stalker 

and when the day comes, all your client has to do is threaten to call the cops on him

he comes after her and that is when san knocks him out with a punch

the stalker finds himself tied to a chair in an empty room when he opens his eyes

there is the stale smell of something resembling death in the room, and that makes the man resist 

from the darkness, san emerges, clad in all black, his face covered with a mask

and his favourite weapon, the dagger, in his hand

you and wooyoung are watching from the camera embedded on his coat

you can see the glint of the dagger as he twists it dramatically in his hand

san circles around the man once as if to gauge the room 

even through the camera, you can tell how thick the air must be feeling

san meets eyes with the man and removes the tape over his mouth, wincing when the man screams his lungs out in hopes that help would come

there is no help, not for miles

“who are you?” the stalker spits on the ground near san’s feet 

san only shuts his eyes in mild annoyance. he is not easily riled up

“you have been found guilty of the crime of stalking. tell me… what should be your sentence?”

the man pales, fresh beads of sweat trickling down his forehead 

“it will be better if you admit to your wrongdoings and give me a fair number. you don’t want to leave it in my hands.”

“what do you mean sentence?” the stalker starts struggling fiercely, almost falling off the chair. “i have already served!”

san grins under the mask, closing in like a cat and stomping on his foot, making the man let out a guttural groan of pain

he leans in to whisper in his ear

“but… that was for murder. and unfortunately, i am not charging you for murder tonight. otherwise… you would not have walked out alive.”

the man gulps loudly, meeting eyes with who has to be the person he has heard so much about in prison

most of the people in prison feared this man- the judge, they called him

the man was the judge, jury and executioner for criminals, feared more than the cops or actual prosecutors

“surely… you’re not him, are you?”

you wince at the fear in the stalker’s voice and meet wooyoung’s eyes

san never confirms if he is that. he simply finishes the job right there

the stalker’s screams are heard for quite a distance, even outside your earpieces

you shut your eyes momentarily and when you open, you can see the blood oozing out of the man’s left leg

san is wiping the dagger with the man’s own jacket as he tells him that he will never be able to stalk people again

the man screams and screams, waiting for something more, but nothing else comes

san’s job is done

he tosses a broken piece of glass near the chair for the man to free himself if he wishes to

when san comes back to the van, the air is sombre, just like after every finished request

wooyoung pats his shoulder in acknowledgement and mutters a joke in an attempt to lighten the mood, which works

“they still call you the judge, huh?” wooyoung teases as he drives

“judge, jury, executioner. how scary, choi san.”

san raises a brow at your comment- he can tell what you’re referring to

you’re referring to the first time when he came back covered in blood

and the first time he realised that no matter what he did, you would never be scared of him

and that you and wooyoung would always have his back and guide him

“i think i’m only the executioner. you both are the judge and jury.”

“makes sense,” wooyoung agrees. “but the world does not need to know that.”

Judge, Jury and Executioner

Mingi

The Overseer

“the future, pitch black, upside down”

mingi dips his brush into the onyx ink, finishing writing the words on the big canvas

the canvas that is a splash of colours- red for the blood on his hands. white for the innocence he lost too soon. blue for all those nights he spent trapped with only the moon as his friend

and finally, black for the future. the future is the only uncertainty in his life

despite being a leader of a notorious gang, he can never be certain about his future. there are always people after his life

he cannot trust anyone- not one soul-

“sir,” a voice interrupts and he knows who it is instantly

even if he did not hear your voice, he knows you are the only person who would dare interrupt him in the middle of his private time-

“tea, sir. you’ve been cooped up in here for too long,” you say, placing the mug on the table

-for something as meagre as tea

mingi spares a glance in your direction, noticing how you are still dressed in your usual all-black fit

which means you have not gone to sleep yet, even though it’s well past midnight

“and what are you doing up so late?” he asks as he picks up the cup and sips it, finding it exactly to his liking. a flavour only you can nail

“watching you paint,” you confess without hesitation

because in this place, in this room, between the two of you, there may be truths hidden, but there are no secrets

mingi is amused to hear that though he does his best to hide it

“and what do you think of the painting?” he asks, allowing you to take a closer look

you smile at his permission to inspect his art and you inch closer to the painting, now standing beside your boss

you read the words on it in a whisper and cock your head in thought

“isn’t this too dark, even for you?” you question 

mingi shakes his head in amusement and looks down. only you could have made this observation, having been at his side for a solid seven years now

where others would say that his paintings were too ‘colourful’ considering the kind of person he is, you still find them too dark and void of life

you’d know better, because you know mingi inside out

he first found you when he was a street thug in the process of becoming something big

all he had was his raw strength, a strategic brain, a few rusty weapons and some loyal friends

he went on to fight gang after gang, always emerging victorious and merging the losing team with a good deal- it’s how he earned respect around and gained a reputation

every other gang knew not to stand against him unless they wanted to risk losing everything they had

when he first opened his office in the darkest part of the town, he found you purely by chance

you were nearing the end of your teens- a rebellious little girl who cut ties from her family and ran away from home

at that time, you had multiple part-time jobs trying to make ends meet, hoping to find a place to live

and one fateful night, you found yourself in front of a building to deliver chicken, peering up at the light coming from the 4th floor- this must be it 

although… you weren’t sure if the loud sounds coming from the floor were just men having a good time or if something had gone really, really wrong

men will be men, you thought, wanting to get the delivery done with so you could move on

only when you reached the 4th floor, you spotted men lying on the ground and clutching their limbs, blood all around

while every sane part of your brain screamed at you to pretend you saw nothing and go back, you recalled how when you received the order, they promised a big tip to the rider

you could not miss that, could you? you had to find a place to live, and you needed every penny

so you started with the men who seemed to be unconscious. you took any cash they had, being careful to hide your face in the hoodie

you moved to the office, hearing a crashing sound and flinching

you made quick work of grabbing more cash from the thugs- they had to be thugs

they all had guns, for fuck’s sake

you went into one of the neater rooms and placed the bags of fried chicken there

and you froze when a burly man made his way inside, wiping blood from the edge of his mouth

“ah… you must be song’s girl, eh?” he snickered, scanning you up and down

“i- i’m delivering chicken,” you pointed at the table. “i’ll be on my way then-”

“not so quick,” his gaze darkened 

instinctively, you grabbed the nearest object, which so happened to be a mug and chucked it at the man, successfully hitting his head

he clutched his head in pain and you made a dash outside, bumping into another man

the tall man seemed mostly unscathed save for a bruise on his cheek

he held your wrists to steady you and his eyes darted in the man’s direction who was clutching his head no more

“oi, song!” the burly man called. “teach your girl some manners, will you?”

the man called song pushed you to the side and a gunfight ensued

you took shelter behind a shelf, observing how the taller man successfully shot his every target

when he thought he was done- and was out of bullets, he looked in your direction and tsked loudly

you were about to come out of the shadows when you noticed one of the supposedly unconscious men take aim of song’s head

your eyes widened and almost instinctively, you grabbed a heavy metal object from the shelf and rushed to the man who was targeting your saviour

to say that mingi was surprised to see a young girl save him from his enemy by nearly crushing the man’s skull?

he knew you were something special right away

you both stared at each other for a long time before he told you to go back to his office, lock the door and not come out until he comes back

he was done sooner than you thought, and while his men cleaned his mess, he found you in his room, sitting rather calmly

“so you’re the delivery girl,” he narrowed his eyes

“i hope the chicken is still warm,” you responded. “if you can just pay me so i can leave-”

“why did you do that earlier?” he asked, voice low and rough that sent shivers up your spine

“i don’t know,” you answered truthfully

mingi paid you more than extra that night and told you to come next time they place an order 

the next time would turn out to be the last time you would ever work a part-time job

mingi offered you a place in his gang, and you took it

you are still not sure what your position in this gang is though- they smuggle drugs but keep you away from the work, so what are you doing here?

personal assistant? chef? manager? all of these? 

sometimes, you are accompanying wooyoung in the field- the gang now has an official base and a few legal businesses

sometimes, you stay in the kitchen with seonghwa and wooyoung to cook

other times, you sit with yunho and hongjoong to plan and offer your opinion on their strategic takes

you aren’t sure if you are qualified for that- you probably aren’t

somehow, though, the gang members respect you for whoever you are

you are the light in their dark life, they joke. you are someone’s friend now, sibling to some, secretkeeper for others

but you still aren’t sure what you are to mingi

whenever you ask him why he took you in, mingi always responds with something different

“you were clever grabbing all that money from our enemies”

“you saved me- though i must say i could have handled it”

“you looked like a lost cat”

“you didn’t report us”- excuses, all of them

truth be told, mingi has no idea what you are to him either

he has a certain fondness for you that he has for no one else. of course, it didn’t happen instantly

he took you in because he realised you had a strategic mind and he could really use that

he insisted the office needed a ‘feminine touch’ even though it came in the form of a cranky teen who wouldn’t stop asking questions

but somehow, the two of you formed an unbreakable bond

he finds solace just being with you in one room, even in complete silence

he loves to hear you talk, even though you mostly question his morals

because he is not a good person, you found out

song mingi is not conventionally good. he is a man of principles, but he does not have the best morals

despite all that, you learned a lot from him. the world is a harsh place, and only he can protect you 

he learned a lot from you too. the world is a harsh place, and only you are his safe space

when at times things get stressful, he comes to seek you. he finds you in the shared residence and sits with you

if he is feeling down, you will have him lay his head in your lap. you will caress his head and let him be

if he wants to talk, he will. otherwise, he will watch you for a long time until he falls asleep, unguarded

when he gets tired, he will seek your arms. all he has to do is show up and you will know what to do

you will drop whatever you are doing and spread your arms

it is his home at this point. that’s how things are like

are you in a relationship? you don’t know

all you know is that song mingi is the most important person in your life

it doesn’t matter if he lives life the way he does

it doesn’t affect you anymore- the blood on his hands or the chaos in his mind

it doesn’t bother you because you know his heart, and that is all that matters

so standing in his private space right next to him, inspecting his painting with a critical eye, you tell him that the painting is not him

he tells you to pick a colour and you reach out for a box, making him chuckle

“really?” he asks

“the future may seem black, but…” you begin. “it doesn’t feel so dark when i’m with you.”

mingi takes a deep breath at your words. you always get him like this, and he is not sure if he can restrain himself anymore

your heart aches when you see him curl his fists, a sign that he is holding back some words or an action

“tell me what you’re thinking,” you request, though it registers like a command in the gang leader’s brain

“i’m thinking that i never should have given you this life.”

you shake your head at that- how many times has he voiced out that he wished you had lived a better, normal life, away from the clutches of the underworld?

“no, you’re thinking something else too,” you comment

“i’m thinking that i want you to stay here, with me, forever,” he responds

you nod in approval. “i’m right here. i’m not going anywhere.”

“you could get hurt,” mingi says, taking a step closer and closing the gap between your bodies

“i am a big girl now, mingi,” you laugh, wrapping your arms around his waist and hearing his erratic heartbeat

his arms are still by his sides for a moment before he embraces you

“i’m old now, in fact. how much longer will you keep me waiting?”

mingi grows stiff at your question. so you know

of course you do

mingi cups your face and locks eyes with you

“i won’t break,” you promise

“i know,” he smiles, pecking your forehead. “i’m afraid you will break me.”

your lips curl in a smile and he rests his forehead against yours

“are you sure about your choice?”

“yes,” you breathe. “i want you. i’m yours.”

mingi draws back

“i meant your choice of colour,” he tilts his head in the direction of the painting and the box of paint you picked for him

“of course you did,” you laugh at his attempt to distract you

mingi leans in to close the distance between your lips

it is soft and unrushed. you both have waited for the right moment, the right time for years and everything feels absolutely right at this moment 

you go first, asking him to join you in your bedroom and he agrees

he assesses the canvas once again

as a finishing touch, he sprays a final splash of yellow- the colour you picked for him

yellow for hope, for all the light in his dark world

The Overseer and his Shelter

Wooyoung

The Maniac

it has always been a cat and mouse game with you and wooyoung

you chase after each other, running in circles with no start or end

it’s almost as if you both have sworn to keep your eyes glued on each other, watching every move, anticipating what is next

someone’s lips curls up in a failed attempt to restrain a smile- a smile that drips with mischief and mockery

someone else’s eyes glint with threat and promise that this is not over, their fists curled in anger

you chase after each other like cat and mouse

only…you’re not sure who is the cat and who is the mouse

sometimes, it is you chasing after wooyoung

jung wooyoung, the son of one of the richest businessmen in town

a privileged piece of shit who is not right in the mind

a crazy bastard who has made it his life’s mission to not only drive you to the edge of the cliff but to push you and laugh in victory as you fall

he takes advantage of you being a criminal investigator 

some people jest that they can’t tell if wooyoung means to ruin your career or lead you to your promotion

with the amount of times wooyoung has gotten himself in trouble (and gotten away with it) he keeps your desk full of cases that you spend most nights investigating

while he keeps your hands full, what frustrates you to no end is that he almost always gets away with his crimes only because of his social standing and his connections

he gets away with petty crimes. he gets away with bloody fights that could very well have him spend one night in the station, cuffed 

he gets away with major crimes such as money laundering and tax evasion

no matter how much you try to investigate, you cannot

there are the warnings of your superiors who threaten to fire you because this is not your worry

and even if you do start to investigate, wooyoung’s team is quick to wipe any evidence of said crimes

you’re pretty sure that at this point, he might be hiding a body somewhere in his house

you wouldn’t be surprised. man once set his enemy’s mansion on fire

to make things worse, he got away with it- even when he was the only one grinning and playing with a lighter on his way out 

while the others scrambled like mice, he sauntered in style

he gets away with anything

you reputation at the station is already in shambles because of it

they call you his shadow at this point, considering how you are always following him

the truth is, you just want to wipe the shitty grin off his face for once

you want him to suffer defeat when you finally put him behind bars

you want him to chase after you like you chase after him

you might come off as delusional, but you’re half convinced that whatever wooyoung does is on purpose at this point- to get your attention

it wasn’t always like this, you and wooyoung

it started with a simple fight that broke out at a party where all the high-profile people were

someone was stupid enough to call the police- but you were more stupid because you went ahead and handcuffed wooyoung

you told him that you couldn’t waste this opportunity because you were investigating another case related to his father’s company anyway

and he? he laughed out loud like a maniac

you soon learned why, going home with the sound of your superiors scolding you still ringing in your ears

here you are, a few years and a lot of chasing each other later

except… you get something out of the chasing now

all he has to do is corner you. all he has to do is rile you up as he tells you why you lost this game yet again

with his burning gaze and honey voice, he pins you to the spot

with his fingers tracing the curves of your face, he tells you how much he loves you chasing after him 

as if he’s all that you ever think about. he might be right

“don’t you think we’re meant for each other?” wooyoung questions almost innocently, licking his lips subconsciously as he trails his finger down the curve of your neck until he reaches the first button of your shirt

“don’t think too highly of yourself, wooyoung,” you respond, your chest rising and falling in controlled breaths

you can not let him know the effect he has on you

however, wooyoung doesn’t need any sort of confirmation

you can try to keep your gaze steel all you want. you can attempt to sound sure and fake indifference, but the fact is that wooyoung knows

all he has to do is take another step forward and fill the gap between you two

his warm breath caresses your face and you gulp despite yourself

he watches you intently and squeezes your neck just a bit, causing you to part your lips for air and then he brushes the tip of his nose against yours

his other hand is slowly but surely unbuckling the belt of your pants and taking it off

you can only thank god in an ashamed relief that you’re in a private space- the space being one of the empty rooms in a random building on a random street because you had been tailing wooyoung

(at least the door is locked)

wooyoung brushes his lips against yours as your pants fall on the ground and pool on your feet

the sound that makes has heat rushing to your face- this should not be happening

you are a fucking detective and wooyoung is your target

but you can’t complain when his fingertips dance along your hip bones

all he has to do is swipe his fingers up your panties

upon finding them soaked (as usual), he smirks and you smack his chest

he catches your fist in his hand, though

“all for me?” he asks

in a matter of seconds, your lips are upon each other, tongues in each other’s mouth as you wrap your legs around him

he picks you up effortlessly and places you on a very dusty table

he gets rid of his clothes all the while kissing you expertly, aiming to please you, dominate you

he sucks on your lips, your neck, anywhere he can get his mouth on

and when he finally takes off all your garments, he has more places he can get his mouth on

“admit it, detective,” he breathes against your clit. “you’re obsessed with me.”

“get to work before i cuff you and fuck your brains out, wooyoung.”

wooyoung’s laugh echoes in the room as he recalls that night- a night he is sure he can never forget

“does that mean i get to experience that again if i stop now?”

you are moments away from your high- how dare he ask if he can stop?

he gets the hint and gets to work, and he makes sure he does a good job, licking and sucking at your clit until you’re screaming

for bonus points, he dives his cock inside right after and stays still as he starts to kiss you eagerly

this time, you’re the one who loses to him and lets him take control

you let him thrust into you. you let him praise you and humiliate you to no end

truth be told, you’re addicted to him. there is no going back from here

wooyoung knows how to use his tongue and he whispers sweet nothings

he is also surprisingly good at aftercare, even though you don’t accept it from him

well, you try not to, but he is insistent

he takes you home and he invites himself in

you go to the shower and he goes to your room to admire the effort you put into bringing him down

loads of files and a board full of his ‘accomplishments’ staring back at him- nothing he doesn’t know

“you think your daddy will help you if i start to investigate the slush fund you have?”

“which one?” is his response, and he grins widely as you gape at him

he can practically see the gears in your head turning and he adores that

it is a cat and mouse game after all. he must give you something so you keep coming after him

(and you must give him something so he keeps finding you too)

while you’re still processing what he just implied, your phone rings

you flinch when you pick it up, getting an earful from your team leader once again, because where were you?

you were supposed to tail wooyoung to confirm that he is meeting up with a notorious gang member who does his dirty work

the case you’re team is on these days is targeting the gang, and yet again… wooyoung is involved

so what the hell were you doing, your superior asks

“jung wooyoung did not meet up with the gang leader,” you say into the phone, your eyes fixed on wooyoung 

wooyoung has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face

“and how do you know that? i thought you lost the tail-”

“yes, i did lose the tail,” you bite your lips in thought- you can’t tell your team leader that wooyoung has a strong alibi this time-

but wooyoung goes ahead and snatches your phone from you

“detective lee,” wooyoung greets and you mutter a string of curses under your breath

you watch wooyoung charm his way through the matter

telling the detective that he was in a tight spot because of the gang they are investigating

and how it is a shame that a ‘civilised’ person such as himself is being linked to thugs

he tells him that he almost got attacked but you saved him, and you hid him in an abandoned building, being wise enough not to blow your cover 

you can’t tell how he does it, but by the end of the call, your team leader is fully convinced that you did a good job today and he even praises you when you take the phone back

when you end the call, you glare at wooyoung

“what?” he shrugs. “i needed an alibi.”

“is that why you took me to the building to fuck me? because you needed an alibi?”

wooyoung watches you with mild curiosity

“did you think it meant something else?” he asks

it would have hurt if he really meant it, but that’s the thing

you both know he doesn’t mean what he says, especially about whatever is going on between you two

he has risked his position and even his life far too many times just to get you alone and fuck you

so you only smile and shake your head in response before telling him to fuck off and get out of your sight

(and he does. not before a second round)

when he leaves, you watch his car disappear from the window before going to the board and updating everything you got out of him tonight

everything about his business and his crimes. everything to make your case on him stronger

it’s truly a wonder how much you can get out of fucking someone right and you’re positive you can see the end of this case now

though… you’re not sure if you will ever take this to court. but that’s something you’ll worry about later

for now, you will follow him like a cat follows a mouse

and he will chase after you like a cat chases after a mouse

The Maniac and his Shadow

Jongho

The Tyrant

it is always a little too cold in the building for your liking

the building that is choi enterprises, located at the heart of the city, standing tall with numerous floors, laden in luxury

it is a workplace and home to some of the people in this city and a symbol of something untouchable to the others

as you enter the building, accompanied by your secretaries and a guard, you instantly feel the temperature drop despite the warm tones of the interior

the employees that greet you may have smiles on their faces but it’s all an act. you can tell, because you know what a genuine smile looks like

choi enterprises somehow always manages to keep the most calculating people to themselves. it might be why the company has flourished so much in such a short period of time

“to the private elevators, miss,” a man says and you recognise him as one of the ceo’s personal staff

you follow him and tug your jacket closer, wishing you had worn it instead of draping it over your shoulders

you catch your reflection on the golden glossy door of the elevator and straighten, lifting your chin up

you will not be pushed into submission, you repeat for the umpteenth time

however, things are not in your favour this time

in this never ending game of business rivalry, you and choi jongho have never seen eye to eye. you always stand in opposition, defensive or offensive

sometimes, you manage to outsmart him while making a new business deal or scoring a new project. other times, he is a few steps ahead and wins the game

except when you lose, somehow, the loss is much greater and a bit personal

your company always suffers more when you lose, which is why this little meeting you are going to have with jongho is no less than a negotiation- a war, if you must

sometimes, you wonder if jongho has a personal grudge against you. these meaningless battles start to seem like an excuse to see you

if not, then why is jongho looking like he just won the lottery at the sight of you?

“as beautiful as ever,” he says, scanning your figure slowly

you don’t move an inch, pretending those words don’t affect you

the secretaries move to another room, leaving you and jongho alone

jongho gets up from his chair and moves to the middle of the room, motioning you to take a seat

you watch as he pours a drink for you, his muscles flexing through the coat he’s wearing 

you take the drink- you need something to calm your nerves

“i suppose the odds are not in your favour, considering you found your way back here”

an allusion to the time he said that you were meant to find your way back here again and again, that you were just a lost kitten and he was your master, controlling you

at that time, you thought he meant to spite you, but time after time, he proved himself right

you always find your way here, always as the opposition. this time, though… you won’t bend

“if the odds are in your favour,” you begin experimentally, downing the drink in one gulp and then pouring one for jongho. “would you like me to join hands with you?”

now this is new- jongho’s eyes slightly widen at your remark

“ah… how the tables have turned,” jongho started to chuckle lowly

you let him be for a moment, scoffing internally

jongho had earned the right title over the years since he stepped up as ceo of his father’s company

a monster of capitalism

known to be the owner of many questionable businesses, borderline illegal, evading taxes and having slush funds unashamedly, heavily involved in money laundering- the list goes on and on

a true financial villain- a true monster, yet… being able to get away with everything, unscathed. that’s who jongho is

he has bribed every soul who would dare go against him. and those who do not take the bribe? he makes sure they kneel

and you… you’re pretty close to being his next target- he did say you would look pretty on your knees for him

“is business not going well?” he asks, faking innocence. he knows

you are a rival company- seo enterprises. everything that jongho’s company is, but… more legal

your forefathers were once partners, and they created their independent companies without a hint of rivalry

they were the definition of true brothers (and partners in crime)

the difference between the values of your company came when you and jongho stepped up as ceo

you had made it your life’s mission for your company to earn a good reputation and moral image, while jongho seemed to have made it his life’s mission to simply conquer the world, no matter what or who the stepping stone is

“business is well,” you narrow your eyes at him. “it’s about the land in ilsan.”

jongho doesn’t seem surprised to hear that. it is always like this- he knows what moves you will make

“ah, the one where we are about to construct a gallery?” jongho asks

“we?” you repeat. “that land is a shared property. why have you not consulted us before going ahead and signing the documents? how could you begin this project without us-”

“the other option is selling it to the government because of the redevelopment project,” jongho leans forward, “and you know how much i despise the government getting their grubby hands on what’s mine”

you know he is right, and he knows that you are not here to argue about why he started this project without telling you

jongho relaxes back, considering all his options before deciding to strike. “you’re worried about your involvement in that project, is that right?”

“well,” you mirror his position, “i would like to keep my reputation clean unlike yours.”

he chuckles at that, proud of his deeds. “yeah, well, that’s going to be hard, sweetheart. that gallery is going to be an optimum location for storing money.”

you know what he means. the gallery is going to display priceless pieces of arts. those pieces are but a means of illegal transactions for the elites

you swallow your anger, taking a deep breath. “i’d like to have my shares back, then. before construction starts.”

“uh…” jongho gets up, fixing his clothes. “you’re going to have to convince me for that.”

“please,” you scoff, but he only shakes his head, ignoring that because he knows this ‘please’ was wholly sarcastic

“try harder,” he smiles mockingly before turning his back to you and moving to the window, putting his hands in the pockets of his pants and staring down at the city

a tyrant- that’s who he is

he expects to get the maximum output out of anything he set his eyes on, no matter the cost- money or lives

you join him by the window, pointing at a few spots. “that’s where people held protests against your company last week,” you tell him. “apparently, you have been exploiting labourers too.”

“that’s what they think,” he spits. “i gave them more than they deserve. they just never learn to accept. they never get pleased.”

you look at jongho- he sounds like he is saying the truth. he has the art of sounding like a victim at times, thus justifying his actions

“doesn’t all that venom in your heart make you dizzy?”

jongho glances at you, his lips threatening to curl into a smile at your words

“doesn’t it get tiring, pretending to be moral?” jongho asks, trying to read your guarded eyes 

“there’s no pretending. i never claimed that i was full of morals, mr. choi,” you sigh. “i just wish for my business to have a legal foundation.”

“and it will, you don’t have to worry,” he responds, curling a section of your hair that had been resting on your shoulder in his fingers

you don’t flinch at his touch. you’ve known him since the beginning, and nothing he does fazes you anymore- except when he leans closer experimentally, locking eyes with you and trying to read you

“you will get your shares, but you will have to convince me,” he says, voice barely above a whisper

it is a challenge. it is always a challenge with choi jongho

“why are you so obsessed with me?” you laugh this time, swatting his hand away

he joins, and everything almost seems normal for a moment- just two friends with too many inside jokes, except… it only lasts for a moment

“how can i convince you?” you ask, sombre

“you know what i want from you, y/n,” he replies in a similar tone

he wants a true partnership, except his idea of a partnership is where you bend to his will (and so is yours)

“don’t turn this into a legal battle, jongho,” you warn, “i would hate to summon you to court.”

“don’t turn this into a petty rivalry,” he counters, “you will benefit from this project. you reputation won’t be harmed.”

“i don’t want my name next to yours,” you tell him in all honesty and you think you see hurt flash in his eyes

“that is not possible,” jongho declares. “our companies are not mentioned without each other. we are fated like that, you and i.”

that is true. no one dares to touch the two of you, so you two have always been alone

there is no one you both can trust. there is no one next to you 

except the two of you are always together, wherever you go, be it business parties, political dinners, or high-profile events

you can only trust each other, because despite knowing everything about each other’s business, despite being at war with each other

you are always honest with each other- honest about your intentions and purpose

there is no one next to you because you two are always together, leaving no space for someone else

do you hate that? not really. does he hate that? he’s not sure

“you can buy my shares from me,” you start, “or you can shift them elsewhere. i can handle whatever loss comes with that.”

“or… you can let it be and use the revenue for something ‘moral’,” he taunts and silence envelopes the room

“no matter how much you try to maintain a clean image,” he starts, gentler this time, “you cannot undo the damage your forefathers have done to your company, y/n. seo enterprises will always be known as the company that exploited the weak to get to the top.”

you don’t wince at that, though your heart aches to hear that

“just like your company. except you are continuing in their footsteps,” you say

jongho nods, watching how your shoulders are curling inwards

“you are not weak, y/n, stand straight,” he almost scolds, taking you by surprise 

you find yourself straightening at his words, confused to see how conflicted he looks

“you are the strongest person i know,” he tells you, and he means it. “i just don’t get why you are atoning for their sins.”

“i don’t know either,” you smile in defeat. “i just am.”

“well, if you ever get tired,” he gently places his hands over your shoulders, “i am here for you. you can lean on me.”

you lock eyes with him, scanning his face. his smile seems genuine

the way he kisses your forehead makes your heart melt

when he embraces you, you lean on him physically

and you almost give in, except…

“i can lean on you, huh?” you say, soaking in the warmth of his body, taking as much as you can before you continue 

“so you can end my career, merge our companies and crown yourself king?”

you look up at him, finding him smirking

just like you thought

“not a chance, choi jongho.”

“how can you see right through me every time, y/n?” he laughs loudly as you smack his chest and move towards the sofa to grab your purse

“i’m the only person who knows who you are,” you tell him. “you can own the world, but you will never own me.”

his eyes glint almost dangerously

“challenge accepted,” he says

you mockingly wave goodbye before exiting the room

choi jongho never changes, and neither do you

but somehow… it gets more addicting and electrifying to be with him, to compete with him and to stand with him

even though he is a tyrant, and you are everything that he is not

The Tyrant and His Defiant Ally

[crookedteethed]

18+ -mdni

ᥫ᭡. cuddly sex with our boyfriend, rafe cameron.

A running joke in your relationship with Rafe was that once he hit the spooning position, it was a surefire sign that you were going to give in to his touch. 

The moment was always just so fucking right. 

His arms wrapped around you like a safety net, pulling you into his warmth. The way his body fit perfectly against yours was hard to resist, tempting you to surrender to his embrace. And as always, you found yourself unable to resist, melting into him with a contented sigh, innocently pushing your bare plush ass onto his pelvis. 

Rafe's breath hitched at the contact, his grip tightening ever so slightly. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, seeping through the thin fabric of his pajamas. His lips grazed the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

"You know what this means," he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

You couldn't help but smile, your heart racing with anticipation. "I do," you whispered back, your head craning back at him to give him those innocent doe-eyes.

Slowly, teasingly, Rafe's hand began to wander, tracing lazy patterns across your stomach. Each touch ignited a spark within you, building a familiar warmth in your core. You pressed back against him more firmly, relishing the low groan that escaped his lips.

"You're playing with fire," he warned, though there was a playful edge to his tone.

"Maybe I like getting burned," you teased back, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe's response was immediate. In one fluid motion, he spun you around to face him, his dark eyes burning with intensity. His hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him.

"Is that so?" he murmured, his lips ghosting over yours. "Then let me give you what you want."

Before you could respond, his mouth claimed yours in a searing kiss. All thoughts fled your mind as you melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair. The kiss deepened, growing more urgent with each passing second.

Rafe's hands roamed your body, leaving fire trails in their wake. You gasped as he effortlessly hitched your leg up into the air and cupped his body closer, his lips never leaving yours. 

Rafe's flannel pajamas and boxers were quickly discarded, leaving no time for his throbbing cock to meet your soaking pussy with a loud smack.

Your back arched into his strapping chest as Rafe entered you, filling you completely. He groaned against your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. With agonizing slowness, he began to move, each thrust driving you closer to the edge--but not quite yet.

"God, you feel amazing," Rafe growled against your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. He shifted slightly, changing the angle by holding your tired leg and pushing it further up in the air, and you cried out as he hit that perfect spot inside you, repeatedly.

Your fingers dug into the white bedsheets as he picked up the pace, his hips snapping against yours with increasing urgency. The room filled with the sounds of your mingled gasps and moans, the air thick with the scent of your passion.

"Rafe, please," you whimpered, desperate for release. Your whole body trembled with need, every nerve ending on fire as Rafe mushroomed tip kissed that spot inside of you--you swear you were about to piss. 

And you knew that Rafe knew by the way your cunt was tightening up around your length, that you felt like you were going to piss.

Rafe understood, his free hand sliding between your bodies to find that sensitive bundle of nerves. His skilled fingers circled and stroked in time with his thrusts, building the pressure inside you to an almost unbearable level.

"Let go," Rafe murmured against your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. "I've got you."

Your toes curled as the sensation intensified, your body teetering on the edge of something monumental. Rafe's fingers moved faster, more insistently, as his hips snapped forward with increased urgency. The dual stimulation was overwhelming, pushing you closer and closer to the precipice.

As Rafe's thrusts grew more insistent, he hit your sweet spot once again, sending you spiraling into a wild frenzy. A primal moan escaped your lips as the pressure finally gave way, an explosion of ecstasy engulfing your entire being. Your body spasmed uncontrollably, squeezing tightly around Rafe as you rode out your earth-shattering orgasm.

Rafe held you tight, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release. You clung to him, your body still trembling.

As aftershocks rippled through you. Rafe's breathing grew ragged, his muscles tensing beneath your fingertips. With a low, primal groan, he buried himself deep inside you one final time. You felt the pulsing heat of his release, triggering another small tremor of pleasure within you.

For several long moments, you both remained still, hearts racing and bodies intertwined. Rafe's eyes closed as he caught his breath. You ran your fingers through his sweat-dampened freshly buzzed hair, savoring the closeness.

Finally, Rafe lifted his head from the dip of your neck, meeting your gaze with a tender smile. He brushed a soft kiss against your lips before slowly withdrawing from you. You whimpered at the loss, already missing the feeling of fullness.

Rafe gathered you into his arms, pulling you against his chest as he rolled onto his side. You nestled into his warmth, your body still tingling with aftershocks of pleasure. His fingers traced lazy patterns along your spine, sending delicious shivers as you drifted off to sleep.

as always, reblogs and comments keeps me motivated. 🫶🏾

taglist-

@alexxavicry @nemesyaaa @rafestoothbrush @trapistani @theeternaloptimistt @scne-vampire @lilithblackkk @cryinghorny @futuremrscameron @littlelamy @elmolovesw33d @faephoria

[prongsx]

we are not children anymore, honey.

warning: swearing, a bit insinuating, f!reader, fluff.

where jason needs to remind you that you're not kids anymore and teasing him isn't the same anymore.

1,8k words

You met Jason Todd when you were both innocent children, well, as innocent as the crime alley allowed. He was your best friend, most of the scars he had back then were from picking fights with anyone who raised their voice at you, anyone who tried to sell you drugs or tried to be aggressive with you.

You had an easy body language, both of you touched each other often and played the usual games that children do, physical touch was never a distant thing.

You secretly had a crush on that somewhat reckless and smiling boy who protected you, always holding your hand. Maybe in the back of your mind you thought that one day you would get married.

At the time, he was a little shorter than you, a fact that deeply irritated him but made you laugh. Then he was adopted by Bruce Wayne and you thought that would be the end of your friendship, but there seemed to be a thread that connected you, not even taking on the mantle of Robin could separate you.

Then Jason was taken from you in the most abrupt way possible, by the hands of death itself. But not even that which seemed inescapable separated you for long, the grief that consumed you could have destroyed you, but something in your mind repeated that Jason would never leave you alone.

When Jason appeared at your door, years later, his blue eyes looking haunted, you cried, something in your heart that was dead seemed to come out of the ground in the same way as your best friend.

At first, you simply didn't know what to do with this new Jason, he himself seemed a little lost, the well had affected his emotions. He took up more space, his arms and hands were bigger. Doubts consumed you, afraid of never rescuing the old bond, but then you bought your old favorite cookie and he smiled at you.

That dimpled smile, which lit up his blue eyes and seemed to bring a reckless air to him. And you decided right then and there that nothing would stop you from being his best friend again.

The thing was that your friendship was based on a time when you were both younger and more naive, feelings were simpler. Jason died before you could be friends during that strange time in your adolescence when touching your friend seemed strange, the only memory your body had of your friendship with Jason was a sticky friendship.

"Only you could make me go to the other side of town to get that damn donut that tasted like paper." Jason grumbles, closing the latch on your window as he moves his huge body into your living room. At that moment, you feel the room shrink, and it feels like any false move will betray your racing heart as you watch Jason remove his helmet, his black curls messy in a cute way.

"They're great." You hum, reaching out to take the package from Jason.

"Seriously, there are so many bakeries with better donuts." He retorts, crossing his arms, drawing your attention to the outline of his biceps in his skintight uniform.

"The best isn't always going to be the tastiest."

Jason rolls his eyes at your completely nonsensical choice of words, flopping his tired body on the couch next to you.

"Jason, did you just sit on my couch in your dirty patrol gear?"

"Sweetie, I just walked halfway through this shitty city looking for that donut. I have a right to dirty your precious couch."

You let out a grunt, knowing he's right. He has the right, but that doesn't stop you from lightly pinching the side of his hip, where his suit had a layer of fabric.

He doesn't even blink at your attitude, his hands holding your wrist, his long fingers holding it as delicately as was allowed.

"I thought you gave up trying to play fight with me," he whispers, his voice heavy with that accent that makes your legs a little weak.

You shrug, your body approaching him almost as a reflex, your knee touching his. It's kind of annoying how much bigger he's gotten than you, and stronger. Much stronger, you know he could flip you over with a single hand and honestly the thought is more exciting than you want to admit.

"Sweet thing?" He calls to you, still with that sly smile on his lips. You blink slowly, coming back to reality.

"Hmm?"

"Aren't you going to eat your delicious donut?"

"Yes. Yes." You say, nodding.

If before you thought Jason was cute, now you could write ridiculous poems about him, two stanzas just about his sapphire eyes.

He snuggled deeper into your couch, spreading his thighs and letting out a sigh of relief at the comfort.

"Tiring patrol?" He opened his eyes when he felt your hands lightly pinching his nose, trying to make him pay attention to you again. You would never admit it out loud, but having Jason's undivided attention was kind of addictive and intoxicating.

"You could say that."

You dropped the donuts on the living room table, suddenly feeling guilty. Even though it was just him teasing you, the store that sold your favorite donuts was really far away.

"I'm sorry I made you take my stupid donuts." He let out a breath when you rested your chin on his shoulder, staring at him from under your eyelashes.

"No. I don't forgive you." He teased, his hands going down to your waist and drawing circles there.

"Seriously, I was selfish." You repeat, looking down at the red bat symbol on his chest.

His blue eyes continued to stare at you, his hands coming up and lightly holding your chin, his eyebrows furrowed. Jason never accepted it when you seemed sad towards him, or when you made it seem like you were a hindrance in his life.

"Stop that shit."

A laugh escaped through your nostrils.

"You still have such a dirty mouth, Todd. My mother still blames you for the variety of curses I know."

He laughed, the sound going straight to your stomach. It should be forbidden for someone to have such a delightful laugh to hear. Jason wasn't as much of a laugh now as he used to be when he was a child, his innocence had been taken away from him years ago, so you drank every drop of his laughter you could.

"Well, I blame you every time I act stupid. We're even."

You reached your hands up to his hair and pulled lightly, like you used to do when you wanted to get back at him when you were kids. But this time, he didn't laugh you away or flick you in retaliation. His lips curved into a thin line and his eyes blinked so fast you thought you'd imagined it.

"Sweetie." Jason's voice was low, the nickname sending an electric shock through your body. "We're not kids anymore."

"You're still just as annoying." You joked, praying he wouldn't notice the slight crack in your voice.

"No, sweet thing, you didn't understand what I meant." He said, his blue eyes staring straight into your face. His hands moved down to your hips, pulling you closer to him, your legs almost resting on his thigh. "I'm saying we're not kids anymore." He repeated.

"Yes. I obviously know that."

He let out a long sigh, as if you were irritating him with your stupidity.

His slightly chapped lips parted as he said something that you were momentarily lost in, your hands resting on his muscular thigh. He gripped your chin tighter when he noticed your inattention and felt your hand on his thigh.

"See? That's what I'm saying." He let out a laugh that wasn't like before, it wasn't genuine and open-hearted, it was low and had a feeling you couldn't quite grasp. "You keep touching me and teasing me like we're children."

"I can stop." You stammered, very confused and feeling a little dizzy. This new Jason Todd, with more scars and less shyness, was making your throat suddenly close up.

"You're not supposed to stop." He whispered, his other hand coming back to grab the back of your neck and pull your faces so close you could feel his warm breath. "Just letting you know that now, when you lie on top of me and stare at me like that, my first thought isn't to play fight with you, darling." His hand squeezed your chin lightly as he added, his voice lower, "When you stare at me like that, all I think about is kissing you stupid."

Forming words seemed harder than ever.

"Ah."

"Ah," he mimicked you in a thin voice, a goofy smile on his face, his grip on your chin bringing your lips close to his. "I say I want to make you sigh my name and that's all you have to say?"

You clear your throat, your eyelashes fluttering slightly. The hand resting on his thigh makes an involuntary movement to lightly squeeze the muscle there. Jason's blue eyes darken, a noise close to a growl leaving his lips.

"You keep doing these things. Fuck, baby, every time you almost climb on my lap like it's nothing." He took a deep breath, as if he was losing his mind, closing his eyes so as not to get lost in his own thoughts. "You must know what you're doing to me."

"No. I. No." You repeated, still very overwhelmed by how close you were. Your best friend, staring at you like he was about to destroy you.

He smiled again at your mental confusion, brushing his lips against yours and letting out a low moan that made you gasp. "Let me kiss you, please?"

You nodded, crashing your lips against his before you had to beg for it. Jason's lips were rough against yours, as if he was punishing you for making him wait, for making him yearn for this.

Jason's ability to focus on multitasking was evident when he pulled you to sit fully on his lap, without separating your lips, his hands moving up and down your body, swallowing the small moans that came out of your mouth.

"I think I've already thought of a way for you to pay for your stupid donuts," he whispered, pulling your lips away for a few seconds to smile at you.

You laughed, feeling lighter than you had in years. Your hands cupped his face, caressing his cheek. There were so many questions and doubts swirling around your mind, but Jason pulled you into a hug, kissing your forehead.

"Honey, it took you a long time to realize that you're mine. Just relax."

You blinked away the tears, hiding your face in the crook of his neck, a genuine smile on your lips.

Your best friend was in love with you too, and everything would be okay.

I hope you liked it, sorry for the mistakes, I need to review all my works. My epub box is open, I just want to write more for Jason!! I'm stupid for him. And I'll be dying on the hill that Jason Todd has a dirty mouth. I'm trying to write for a gender-neutral reader but I've discovered that I have difficulty, I'm sorry, but I'll keep trying.