#it’s verbal abuse we’re dealing here

[lelet-draws]

I’m trying to cut off my cousin who lives far from me and visits without warning. Now that the holidays are over, she is probably coming soon.

I feel like I’m in a horror movie waiting for that bitch to knock on the door and attack me.

[pbaz7]

It’ll Always Be Her Chapter 5

AN: I’m trying to write consistent enough so I can publish at least once a day. Can you guys leave live reactions and comments so I know what people like/don’t like and which direction I should go!

TW: Verbal abuse, mention of death

Word Count: 3.3k

The hum of conversation filled the athletic lunchroom as different teams gathered around tables, laughing and sharing stories. Paige sat with KK and Ice, her tray of food untouched. Her gaze was distant, her thoughts completely occupied.

KK nudged Ice with a smirk. The two of them trying to figure out who’s going to break the ice with the senior. KK decides to speak, “Alright, Paige, spill it. What was up with you and Azzi the other night? The tension was crazy.”

Ice leaned in, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Yeah,it was impossible not to notice. Your eyes were glued to her all night.”

Paige’s cheeks flushed as she looked down at her tray. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled.

“Oh, come on,” KK chimed in, laughing. “You were raking her over like she was the last piece of dessert. And don’t even get me started on how you two just happened to disappear together.”

“And when you came back?” Ice added, raising an eyebrow. “Both of you looked flustered. Something definitely went down.”

Paige groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “You guys are impossible.”

KK grinned, leaning forward. “We’re just saying. It’s obvious there’s something there. So, what’s the deal?”

Paige sighed, her hands dropping to the table. “Look, what happened that night stays between me and Azzi. That’s all you’re getting.”

KK crossed her arms, giving Paige a mock glare. “Girl boo, keep your secrets. But you’re not fooling anyone. I know something happened”

For a moment, Paige stayed quiet. Then her expression softened, her voice dropping. “I really like her,” she admitted feeling vulnerable.

KK’s teasing demeanor shifted to curiosity. “Like, really like her?”

Paige hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah... maybe even something more.” Her eyes grew distant as her thoughts drifted to Azzi, her best friend for years. Memories flooded in—late-night talks, shared victories, moments where Azzi’s laughter had been the only thing to pull her out of a funk. It all swirled together, making her chest ache in the best way.

KK and Ice exchanged a look, their teasing forgotten.

“Wow,” Ice said softly. “That’s serious. So why haven’t you made a move?”

Paige sighed again, leaning back. “Azzi and I talked about it. We’re waiting until I can break things off with Jess. She’ll be back soon, and I owe her that conversation first.”

KK frowned. “That’s... responsible, I guess. But it sounds rough.”

“You have no idea,” Paige said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Azzi’s intoxicating. When we’re together, it’s like nothing else matters. But I want to do this right. Azzi deserves it”

Ice reached over, squeezing Paige’s arm, surprisingly being serious for once. “You’re doing the right thing. It won’t be easy, but it’ll be worth it.”

KK nodded. “Yeah. We’re here for you, P Boogers. And honestly? We’re rooting for you and Azzi. After all I need my parents together”

Paige chuckles slightly and smiles, her heart feeling a little lighter. “Thanks, guys. I just hope I don’t lose my mind in the meantime.”

KK chuckled. “You got this. But hey, if you ever need to vent, we’re all ears.”

…

The rhythmic thud of the basketball echoed through the empty gym as Paige sprinted from one end of the court to the other, her breathing heavy and her shirt clinging to her from sweat. Each shot she took landed clean, the ball swishing through the net. She wasn’t keeping score—she was too lost in her own head. Her emotions were a storm: guilt over Jess, frustration with herself, and that overwhelming pull toward Azzi that she could no longer ignore.

Her muscles burned, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. The gym was the only place where she could let everything out without saying a word.

Azzi stepped through the gym doors quietly, her sharp eyes immediately spotting the familiar figure of Paige moving across the court. She lingered for a moment, leaning against the doorframe, watching Paige in her element. The 6'1 blonde was a force, her movements fluid, her focus intense.

Azzi smirked. There was something captivating about Paige when she was like this, pouring all her energy into the game. After a few moments of quiet admiration, Azzi decided to approach, her footsteps light as she sauntered across the gym floor. “You trying to make the hoop fall in love with you too?

Paige startled slightly, not fully processing what the younger girl said, stops mid-dribble throwing Azzi a half-smile. “Just needed to work some things out.” She bounced the ball once more before tucking it into her arm..

Azzi smirked, stepping closer. “Seems like you’ve been doing a lot of that lately.”

Paige shrugged, her eyes dropping to the ball in her hands. “Yeah, well, sometimes it’s the only thing that works.”

Azzi’s eyes softened as she reached out, gently taking the ball from Paige and setting it aside. “Or maybe you just need a better distraction.”

Paige huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “You offering?”

“Always,” Azzi said, her voice playful but her expression serious. She took another step closer, her hand reaching out to brush against Paige’s. Without hesitation, she intertwined their fingers, giving Paige’s hand a gentle squeeze.

The gesture was simple but grounding, and Paige felt some of the tension in her shoulders ease. She glanced down at their joined hands, her heart skipping a beat.

Azzi tilted her head, her voice softer now. “You’ve got this look on your face, like the world’s sitting on your shoulders. What’s going on, Paige?”

Paige hesitated, her thumb unconsciously brushing over Azzi’s knuckles. “It’s...complicated.”

Azzi smiled gently. “When isn’t it?” She leaned in slightly, pressing a soft kiss to Paige’s cheek—the same spot she has been gravitating towards lately when she wanted to offer comfort without pushing too far. “Take your time. I’m here.”

Paige closed her eyes briefly, the warmth of Azzi’s kiss lingering. “You make it sound so easy.”

Azzi chuckled. “That’s because you make everything else look so hard.” She squeezed Paige’s hand again, her thumb now drawing small circles against Paige’s skin. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now, you know.”

Paige let out a shaky breath, her gaze meeting Azzi’s. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

“It’s a gift,” Azzi said, her smirk returning. “But seriously, Paige. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Paige looked at her for a long moment, the weight of Azzi’s words settling in her chest. “Thanks, Az,” she said softly.

Azzi smiled, leaning in just a bit closer. “Anytime, P.”

For a while, they stood there, the only sound the faint creak of the gym floor beneath their feet. Azzi finally broke the silence, her tone lighter. “You know, as much as I love seeing you like this—sweaty and intense—you really should take a break. Recharge that beautiful brain of yours.”

Paige chuckled, rolling her eyes. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Nope,” Azzi said, grinning. “But that’s why you love me.”

Paige’s breath hitched slightly, but before she could respond, Azzi gave her hand one last squeeze and pulled away. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts. I can tell you’re not done. Meet me later?”

Paige nodded, her voice quiet. “Yeah. Like always.”

Azzi winked before turning to leave, her presence lingering even after she disappeared through the gym doors. Paige stared after her, her hand still warm where Azzi’s fingers had been. She knew she wasn’t ready to say everything yet, but she also knew one thing for sure—she didn’t want to let Azzi go.

…

After spending a few more hours in the gym Paige opened the door to her room, expecting a quick stop before heading to Azzi’s, but the moment the light flicked on, her stomach dropped. Jess was sitting on Paige’s bed, her shoulders hunched and her eyes red from crying.

Paige froze for a moment, a knot forming in her throat. The sight was unexpected. “Jess?” Paige asked softly, trying to mask her discomfort.

Jess looked up at her, her gaze unfocused, but when she saw Paige, she stood up quickly. “I’m sorry,” she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know where else to go. I—I just… I didn’t want to be alone.”

Paige’s heart clenched, but she kept her voice calm. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Jess’s face crumpled again as she took a breath, barely able to hold it together. “My dad… he passed away,” she whispered. “I had to take a break before the funeral, and I just—everything’s falling apart, Paige. I don’t know who else to turn to. I really need you right now.”

Paige felt the weight of the words settle in her chest. She wanted to be there for Jess, truly, but at the same time, everything inside her screamed that she couldn't keep pretending anymore. She’d been doing that for months now, and the reality of what she’d been hiding, the feelings she’d been trying to push aside, were too strong to ignore.

“Jess, I’m so sorry,” Paige said, her voice soft, though the words felt foreign in her mouth. “But I don’t think that’s the best idea… I think we should break up.”

Jess blinked, her face going from shocked disbelief to something darker, a mixture of anger and pain. “You’re kidding, right?” she spat, standing up from the bed, pacing. “You’re doing this now? After everything?” Her voice trembled, but it didn’t take long for the hurt to turn into sharp, biting fury.

“I just—” Paige started, but Jess cut her off, her voice rising.

“You’re fucking heartless, you know that?” Jess’s words sliced through the room, and Paige flinched at the venom in her tone. “I come to you in my worst moment, and you just walk away?” Jess’s eyes were wild with rage now, the tears mixing with her anger. “I’m here grieving, and you’re just dumping me? You think I don’t notice? You think I don’t know how you’ve been with her? How you’ve been fucking her behind my back?”

Paige’s stomach churned. She never expected the words to sting this much even if they weren’t true, but Jess wasn’t done yet.

“You think I don’t see how you look at her?” Jess continued, stepping forward, her finger jabbing toward Paige in accusation. “You don’t even care about me, do you? You’re just some selfish bitch who thinks she can do whatever the hell she wants and leave me hanging when I need you most!”

Paige opened her mouth to speak, to explain herself, but Jess wasn’t finished.

“Don’t fucking act like you’re the ‘good person’ here,” Jess sneered. “You’re not. You’re just a slut who can’t keep her hands off her best friend. God, I knew I was always second choice to her, but this? You’ve been making excuses for months. You’re such a fucking coward, Paige. You’ve been playing me this whole time.”

Jess’s words hit harder than anything Paige had expected. She stood there, frozen, feeling the sting of each insult. But despite the tears welling up in her eyes, she didn’t fight back. She didn’t say anything. She just stood there stoically, taking it, letting Jess’s words sink in.

“You think you’re better than me, but you’re just as fucked up as the rest of us,” Jess spat, her chest heaving as she took in a breath. “Maybe worse. You’re a fucking liar, Paige. Always have been. Always will be.”

The room fell into an unbearable silence, except for the sound of Jess’s heavy breathing. Her face was twisted in a mix of grief and disgust, and Paige could barely look at her. She wanted to say something—anything—to make this stop, but all she could do was stand there, feeling the weight of what felt like the world on her shoulders.

Finally, Jess’s voice broke, though it was laced with rage. “You know what? Fine. You’re done with me. I get it. But don’t you dare pretend like you’re some fucking angel when you’re just as much of a mess as I am. Go to her. Go be with your precious little Azzi. I hope she’s worth it.”

Jess stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. The sound of the door banging against the frame echoed through Paige’s mind like a hammer.

Paige stood there for a moment, her chest tightening, her heart pounding. The silence in the room was deafening. And then, as if on cue, the tears came.

They started slow at first, the first tear falling down her cheek like a steady drip. But once the dam broke, they came in a flood, her entire body shaking as she collapsed onto the bed.

She just wanted it to stop.

She buried her face in her hands, her body trembling as the weight of everything she’d been holding in finally spilled out. She had waited so long to try and do the right thing. She’d tried to be a good person for Jess, to make things work, she basically forced herself to be with Jess so she wouldn’t be embarrassed but it was never right. Not in the way she felt for Azzi. She had put herself in this impossible position, and now, after everything, she was being told how awful she was for trying to make things right.

Her breath hitched, and the sobs came harder. She slid down onto the bed, curling into herself, trying to catch her breath. Her head spun, and she just wished Azzi was here. She wanted to feel Azzi’s warmth, her gentle touch, something to remind her that she wasn’t as terrible as Jess had made her feel.

…

Azzi paced around her dorm room, glancing at the clock. Paige should’ve been here by now, she had texted Azzi that she was leaving the gym a while ago. Her stomach twisted, a strange unease settling in. She’d tried calling, but Paige didn’t pick up. A flash of worry crept up on her. After a few moments of hesitation, Azzi grabbed her phone and decided to checked Paige’s location—her friend was just a few doors down in her suite.

Something wasn’t right.

Azzi threw on her jacket and grabbed her things. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. As she started walking toward the door, her phone buzzed. It was Ice.

Azzi’s pulse spiked.

"Hey," Ice’s voice came through the phone, a little strained. "You need to come over. Paige... Paige has been crying. I don’t know what happened, but she won’t talk to me about it."

Azzi didn’t wait for another word. She practically ran out the door, not even bothering to grab her keys as she bolted for Paige’s suite.

When she arrived, Ice was standing by the door, giving her a strained smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "She’s in there," Ice said, stepping aside to let Azzi in. "I don’t know what’s going on, but... just be gentle with her, okay? She needs you Azzi."

Azzi nodded, her chest tight as she made her way to Paige’s room. The door was cracked open, and as she stepped inside, the soft glow of the neon lights illuminated the chaos of Paige’s room. Paige was curled up on her bed, her face streaked with tears. Her eyes were swollen and red, and her expression was a mix of exhaustion and devastation. The sight alone was enough to break Azzi’s heart into a thousand pieces.

"Paige," Azzi whispered, her voice cracking. She moved to the side of the bed, kneeling down beside the blonde, her heart shattering even more when Paige didn’t even look up at her. "Baby, what’s wrong?" Azzi whispered again, slipping into a familiar tone as she reached out to gently touch her friend’s cheek.

Paige didn’t answer immediately. She just sniffled, her body trembling as she fought to hold herself together. Azzi noticed this and, without hesitation, slipped under the blankets next to her. She eased herself into a comfortable position, pulling Paige gently against her chest. She wrapped her arms around the older girl and traced small hearts on her back with her fingers, just trying to offer comfort, to let Paige know she was there.

It didn’t take long for Paige to begin speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. "Jess... Jess came to my room today," she began, her words broken. "Her dad... he passed away. And she was asking me to go with her for the funeral. But I... I couldn’t. I can’t be with her anymore, Azzi. I—" Paige hiccupped on a sob, her voice cracking. "She just... she called me horrible names. Told me I was a player basically, that I’ve been lying to her, that I’m a terrible person. And the worst part is... I kind of believe her. Pretending to like her was selfish."

Azzi’s jaw clenched as she listened. Her heart ached at hearing Paige speak so softly about something so painful. The thought of Jess saying those things to her, especially in such a vulnerable moment, made Azzi furious. She could feel the anger building in her chest, and if she ever saw Jess again, she’d be sure to make her know just how wrong she was.

But that wasn’t her priority now.

Azzi tightened her grip on Paige, lifting her chin to make their eyes meet. "Paige, stop. You are not a bad person. You never have been. It’s okay to put yourself first. And you’re not a player for having feelings for someone else. You deserve to be happy, to be with someone who makes you feel good—who makes you feel safe."

Paige’s lip quivered, and her eyes welled up again. "I don’t know anymore, Azzi. I just feel... I don’t know who I am."

"Yes, you do," Azzi reassured, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair away from Paige’s face. "You’re Paige. You’re strong, you’re kind, you’re brave. You’ve done everything you can for Jess because you care, but this? This is about you now. You deserve to be loved the way you’ve always dreamed of. And I can’t sit by and let you think you’re anything less than incredible."

After a while Paige finally let out a shaky breath, nodding slightly, the tension beginning to ease from her shoulders. Azzi’s words settled in her chest, a warmth spreading through her as she realized just how much she needed this—needed Azzi.

"I’m so sorry, Azzi. Thank you for dealing with me." Paige whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Azzi returned the smile, brushing her lips against Paige’s forehead in a soft kiss. "I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’ll always be here for you."

Paige let out a soft chuckle, the sound almost foreign to her after the storm of tears. "You’re such a tease," she murmured, her voice lightening.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her smirk playful. "What? I’m just showing you some love."

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile. "Yeah, love, huh? I think you’re a little too comfortable with that, Azzi."

Azzi grinned. "Maybe I just can’t resist you."

Paige’s smile widened, her gaze softening as she leaned in slightly, her voice low and teasing. "Well, you’ll just have to try harder, then."

Azzi’s lips curled into a smirk, her eyes gleaming.

They spent the rest of the evening together, the weight of the world slowly lifting from Paige’s shoulders as they joked, flirted, and just spent time in each other’s company. Eventually, they settled in to watch a movie. Paige’s head rested against Azzi’s shoulder as the movie played, but it wasn’t long before she drifted off, a peaceful smile on her face. Azzi kissed her cheek gently, watching her sleep with a tenderness that filled her chest.

The movie continued playing, forgotten in the background, but neither of them cared. Paige was safe, and Azzi was right where she belonged—by her side.

[thewayuarent]

Handling an addiction. Part 2.

About actual changes.

tw: mentioning of drug abuse, suicide attempt, sexual assault

In part one we discussed how Ray’s main circle is actually more damaging for him than helpful. Thank you everyone for your responses, it means a lot. Today we’ll discuss the if not positive but more hopeful approach towards Ray’s addiction and why I do believe there are (always) chances for him to get better. I want to talk about the one person who potentially has enough influence to start this journey. But firstly I’ll talk about one person who can provide Ray support towards it.

Sand. The very first thing that differs Sand from Ray’s friends is timing. Remember this scene we haven’t got yet? I have no idea what’s that about but I do find this phrase very interesting.

Ray is absolutely wrong to blame Sand for whatever is happening in his life - the thing that addicts do often, by the way (and this is understandable and I am not blaming anyone thank you) - but he’s ironically right about one thing. Sand steps in his life when Ray is at his lowest. The worst since, probably, two years ago suicide attempt. Ray replaces the cause and the effect - it’s not because of Sand his life is going down to hell, it’s a coincidence that Sand appears at this time in his life. 

But this is why it’s probably easier for Sand to recognise Ray as someone who desperately needs help. He wasn’t there while Ray was slowly going down. He appears when Ray is already here. 

The thing is, it’s actually a bit too early to discuss how Sand handles Ray’s addiction. The whole drama will start when (or if, but my bet on when) they start a relationship. And of course Sand will make mistakes - we all do in any topic but especially this one. It’s a normal human thing. But Sand has very important qualities - he has empathy, compassion and he catches quickly on both verbalize and non-verbalize information.

The start of those two was pretty rough - Sand called Ray a spoiled rich brat - and this is, well, because Ray is a spoiled rich brat - a burden and he didn’t think highly of him. He continues this approach till this moment

But after Ray says this, Sand immediately understands that something deeply wrong and traumatic is happening here. And after that he stops with rude language, he shifts on harsh, but compassionate words. He still calls out Ray on his behaviour - in the music store scene and later in hospital. But his approach is very different from their earlier communications.

The same thing is with alcohol. Sand spends a noticeable part of the show unintentionally supporting Ray’s habits. He was hired as his drinking buddy, that was their start. He probably understood since the beginning this is a bit alarming, but it was not his place to deal with it. The big shift happening after this conversation

And while it doesn’t happen immediately - they have a party right after that - this is changing Sand’s approach once again.

So for now we have only one example of Sand handling the addiction problem Ray has - that’s why I said it’s not enough. But this example speaks volumes. He is, once again, compassionate and understanding. He doesn’t judge or blame Ray for his addiction, but he doesn’t forget his mistakes. He is very careful in his wording.

Here, very important moment: Sand doesn’t say “I ban you from alcohol forever” - because he understands it won’t work. He says “You need a rest and let’s try to hold on for a bit, just until you feel better”. He gives Ray an opportunity to not drink for some time without a very scary “forever”. Just for this one. 

And this is very good thinking. Because while it works for everyone differently - some people prefer to quit once and forever, some people do it step by step - we’re talking here about a person who doesn’t want to quit yet. And temporarily limiting him is the best chance you have.

For now Sand is doing a very good job at building a support system someone with addiction needs. But this never - never - works out until Ray decides that he needs help. This never works out until Ray makes a decision to start working through it for himself.

Ray. The thing I desperately need for people to understand is: nothing will make a difference for him until he himself makes a decision that he wants to heal. Until he wants it not for Mew, or his dad, or Sand - for himself. We had a beautiful conversation about some of this with @twig-tea here - and one of the topics was about the difference between someone who knows about problem and want to heal and someone who ignores it. And for Ray this is not even about him understanding he has a problem - because I believe he does, at least on subconscious level. 

He said this to Sand

and wording speaks volumes. He knows that addiction was (part of) a reason his mother died. He also said this to Mew

and this to his dad

so he is capable of drawing a parallel. He knows he’s doing the same thing she did. He understands that his substance abuse is dangerous, he has an experience with his mom ruining her life because of that.

But he is also trapped in a very harmful pattern. A pattern where it’s way easier for him and his surroundings to ignore a problem. Both Mew and Cheum tell him to stop on several occasions and his answer is always “Yeah. I know, whatever”. For now they do it just for check, he answers just for check also. Those conversations I believe happen a lot but they never have an actual meaning. And then when Sand calling him out on his addiction Ray does the same thing he does all the time.

He brushes it off like something not really important because he is used to it. And because it is way, way easier to do. Ray is not only an addict, he is also suicidal and while I can’t make diagnoses I think he is depressed and he is so on his self-destruction journey. 

And those conversations running around about how Ray needs a wake-up call? He had a lot of them already.

As far as we know he was:

Waking up in some stranger’s place thinking he was sexually assaulted and robbed;

Attempting a suicide;

Risking his (and everyone else) life while drunk driving;

Charged for this drunk driving;

Almost arrested for drug possession and use.

And the truth is? He doesn’t care about this, because he doesn’t care about his life or wellbeing. He doesn’t need one big dramatic wake-up call. What he needs is careful and consistent conversations about his situation. What he needs is someone to tell him again and again and again that he deserves help. That he doesn’t need to be a perfect or even good person to deserve it. And maybe, maybe it will work. And only then the therapy and rehab and whatever tools exist will work. 

And two more words about the rehab thing. This is something literally everyone wants for Ray as soon as possible. No matter how people approach his character this is the one thing everyone agrees on. And while I also think that rehab is something he needs, as much as therapy, I know it won't work for him right now. 

Because to forcefully put someone in rehab is one of the worst things you can do. Rehab is not some magical place that automatically heals an addict. Rehab is a support tool - same as therapy, or AA, or whatever is right for a person (cause everybody is different and some things work for some people but don’t work for others). Again, until it’s something Ray wants and chooses for himself - rehab is almost 100% useless. The chances that Ray being put into rehab by some external forces - his dad - will relapse in the first month after getting out is very high. Rehab for him right now would be a fucking torture. And a pointless one.

Rehab, or therapy, or Sand’s or anyone’s support - all of this is very important and needed, but those things don’t exist in a vacuum. For them to have an impact Ray has to want it for himself. And this is such an incredibly hard thing to do. This requires a lot of self work and a lot of strength. I can’t express how much I hope for him to get to this point. 

But I do understand that he's not there yet. And while I know how exhausting and frustrating it is - I want people to remember that for him it’s so much worse. He is the main victim of his disease. Have compassion. Have patience. Don’t forget that he is much more than his addiction. But don’t forget about it either. 

[justmeinadaze]

Finally/Beautiful Stranger (Steddie X You)

A/N: Part of this AU, you don't have to have read the others to understand but it helps!

Also, please feel free to donate or buy me a coffee. Anything helps but of course you don't have to. I will still love you :)

Warnings: Former Addicts Steddie X Fem Y/N, SMUT, slight spanking, dirty talk, very light DOM dynamics touched on, mentions of lose of virginity (as well as the pain that comes along with the first time), FLUFF, These three people love each other very much and all three are happier compared to previous chapters. The talk about their new lives and careers with pride <3.

ANGST, dark themes!! of addiction and recovering addicts explored. Not new for this series but again this one is much lighter than the others. They both discussing cravings and Eddie having a slip a few months prior. Steve works at a center with children of addicts and one boy has a similar situation to Y/N's accident so she helps him through that.

The boys mention regrets including being aggressive with the reader verbally and sometimes physically when they weren't sober so DOMESTIC ABUSE TRIGGER.

There are flashbacks of them as kids so mentions of Eddie and Steve dealing with their toxic dads.

I think that's it! As always go carefully in this AU and if you choose not to read that is ok. I will still love you!

Word Count: 8358

1974

You winced as you landed back first on to the gravel underneath where you had fallen from the jungle gym. 

“Oh wow! Are you okay?!” A set of hands gripped your biceps as they helped you get to your feet. “You have some stuff on your dress. Let me…” The boy’s voice trailed off as you felt him dust off the nature that stuck to your outfit. 

“Thank you.”, you mumbled as you turned to meet your hero, coming face to face with honey brown eyes and a comforting smile. 

“You’re welcome. Are you alright? Do you need to go to the nurse or…?”

“No. I think I’m okay. My, uh, back broke my fall.” You grin when he laughs. “I’m Y/N.”

“Steve.”

“Harrington?”

“Um, yeah?”

“No! Don’t mean to sound mean. The girls in my class think you’re cute. They never shut up about you.”

The boy laughs harder and your grin grows at the sight of his scrunched nose. 

“I have no idea why. I’m not that great.”

“I don’t know. I mean…I think you are.” Steve blushes at your answer and you reach out to grab his hand leading him towards the swing set. 

The two of you talk casually about things normal children your age talk about like tv shows and music. Shouting suddenly grabs your attention causing you to slow to a stop as a boy runs around the corner and heads towards you both.

“FREAK! THIS ISN’T OVER!”

“Thomas Hagan!”, a teacher yells, blocking him with her body so he can’t follow. 

The boy pauses as he leans against pole of the swings trying to catch his breath. 

“Are you alright?” He jumped as your hand reached out to touch his arm as he held them up defensively. “Hey. Hey, it’s ok. We won’t hurt you. I’m Y/N and this is Steve.” His chocolate eyes scanned you both over before finally sighing in relief when he realized you weren’t a threat.

“What’s your name?”

“E-Eddie. Eddie Munson.”

“Oh! You’re the kid that just started here. I’m sorry, man. Welcome to hell.”, Steve joked causing an exasperated laugh to leave Eddie’s lips. 

“Did Tommy do that to you?”, you ask as you gesture towards his black eye.

Shaking his head, he came over to sit on the swings beside you both. 

You couldn’t explain it at the time, not even now, but as you sat there talking to them you felt comfortable. You felt like you had known them your entire life. Nothing in this moment could have prepared you for the future that was headed towards you all. 

##########

1993

“Where up north are you, Stevie?”, Eddie asks as he takes a big bite of the burger in front of him. 

“I’ve been up in Detroit for a few months now working at a youth clinic. There’s a lot of good kids there who just need some help.”

“I’m proud of you, dude. We’re supposed to head over there to record with this big time producer. What about you, princess? Where do you call home?”

“I don’t actually have a home right now. I’m a writer for a music magazine so I’ve been on the road mostly for the past 2 years listening to bands and staying in hotels.”, you giggle as a huge smile adorns your face. “Maybe soon I’ll get to write about you, Eddie.”

“Here’s hoping. We just got signed but the manager at the label says we ‘really have something’.”

“Of course you do. You guys were always amazing.”

“Pfft, yeah sure. Drugged out me could barely focus on the strings let alone create a melody.” 

The table went silent as a heavy energy fell around the table. 

“How have things been? Any cravings?”, Steve asks as he folds his arms to lean forward on his elbows. 

“Oh, Harrington. I’m an addict. I always have cravings but choose to resist them.”

“Has it gotten any easier. To resist them, I mean.”, you inquire.

“Yes and no. I mean I used to snort blow 24/7 and now I don’t. I can go about my day and live my life but when something hard hits me or I’m having a bad day I have to physically talk myself out of not looking for a fix.”

“I can understand that. There were a few days where I sat outside of bar staring at the front door for hours before driving away.” His eyes flick towards you as he continues. “I still struggle with regret… regret that we…ruined your life.”

“You didn’t ruin my life. You definitely didn’t make it easy but… I should have left or cut ties beforehand. I just didn’t know how. I didn’t know how…to live without you two in my life.”

“Yeah. We get that to.”, Eddie sighed as a silence fell around the table. 

It had been a long time since the three of you had been together without the vices getting in the way or taking control. You had no idea how to be around them when they were sober. 

“Hey, uh, I have an idea if you two would be up for it.”, Steve grins as he tries to elevate the mood again. “Since the two of us will be in Detroit, why don’t you come with us, honey? Maybe the three of can hang out and spend some time together again. You’re even welcome to stay at my place. I don’t have a spare room but, Y/N, you can take my bed and the two of us can sleep in the living room or something.”

“Oh, Steve, I don’t want to impose—”

“No. No imposition whatsoever!”

“I can do that.”, Eddie confirms. 

“Ok. I’m ok with that.”

They both heavily exhale as if they had been holding their breath waiting for your answer. 

#########

1976

After getting into a fight with his father, Steve ran to your house knowing you’d make everything better. As soon as he showed up, you called Eddie who biked over as quickly as he could and after he arrived, you both listened intensely as the boy vented. 

“Everything’s going to be ok, Steve. You know you’re welcome to stay here.”, you try and soothe the boy as you wrap your arms around his shoulder. 

“Why am I never enough for that asshole?!”

“Because he’s just that; an asshole.”, Eddie quips making the other boy softly smile in his direction. 

“I should just do whatever I want to since I can never make him happy.”

“That’s a good idea. Oh! I’ll be right back.”, the boy grins at you both before running up your stairs. 

“Steve, you ARE amazing. I’m sorry he can’t see that but no matter you have us.” Grabbing his face, you kiss his cheek causing him to blush. 

Music starts to play and you both look up to see Eddie coming down the stairs with your bulky radio in his hand. Placing it on the bottom step, he stagers around in place as he begins to lip sync the lyrics. 

“I'll state my case, of which I'm certain I've lived a life that´s full I've traveled each and every highway And more, much more than this I did it my way.”

The guitar starts to play and Eddie pretends to strum as he jumps to the ground, continuing to sing as he dances around you both. 

“Regrets, I’ve had a few But then again, too few to mention I did, what I had to do And saw it through without exemption.”

Grabbing Steve’s hand, you do the same, dancing to the music as you three sing along.

“I planned each chartered course Each careful step along the highway And more, much more than this I did it my way.”

Eddie spins you and you laugh as you watch wide smiles paint their faces. You loved them both so much and knew after everything they go through they deserved happy, peaceful moments like this. To you, they deserved the world. 

***

The flight up to Detroit was uneventful but Steve did fill the time by telling you about some of the kids at the clinic he worked at while Eddie crashed beside him. His eyes lit up as he spoke, telling you about the turnaround a lot of them had made and how talented they all were. 

“Amanda is such a smart girl. She’s 15 and she can draw these beautiful pictures. I’m working on seeing if I can book a gallery or something for her to show her work. Right now, she draws for her mother works two jobs to help take care of them because the dad is a junkie.”

“What kind of things does she draw?”

“She can do portraits and people. She drew me once as this like superhero. I have the picture on my fridge.”

“That’s amazing.”, you beam up at him as he smiles to himself. “Steve, I really am proud of you…of both of you.”

“Thank you. That means a lot to me.”, he softly grins as his gaze shifts towards his lap. “I’m very proud of you as well. I’m glad you found something that makes you happy. When we were growing up you had mentioned writing before.”

“Yeah. I never knew what I wanted to write about but one day a guy I was dating overheard me talking about grunge metal and offered me a job.”

“Hm. Are you two still together?”

“Uh, no. We only dated for a couple of months. I’m not with anyone right now. No time.”, you chuckle trying to lighten the mood again. “What about you? Any future Mrs. Harringtons?”

“No. No future Mrs. Harringtons. I kind of spent time focusing on me and now the kids.”

“You have to be careful with that. You don’t want to fill one addiction with a new one and miss life entirely. I’m guilty of that those first three years after I left.”

***

You and Eddie enter Steve’s apartment slowly as you take a look around. It was a bit smaller than what you were used to when it came to him but he made it his own. There were posters of bands he enjoyed along the walls with some shelves lined with books he had read. In the corner of his living room was a desk with a few papers and pictures clients had drawn him over the years. A frame caught your eye and you bent down to get a good look as you took in his sobriety coins.

“Yeah, I, uh, bought one of these little frame things because it felt disrespectful to just throw them somewhere.”

“That’s amazing, dude.”, Eddie praised as he threw down his bag. “I, uh, I had an incident a few months back. I’m on the blue 6 month one but…”

“What happened, Ed?”

“Oh, um, nothing we need to get into, sweetheart. I did the proper protocol with my sponsor and she helped get me back on track.”

Steve patted his back comfortingly, knowing how hard it was and is to remain sober. Gesturing you down his hallway, he led you towards his bedroom and you grinned at the simplicity. 

“The bathroom is right in there and please both of you feel free to take anything from the kitchen. Me casa es su casa.”, he chuckles as he nervously runs his hands through his hair. “Sorry, that was cheesy.”

“Steve, you guys don’t have to try so hard. Just be yourselves.”

“That’s the thing isn’t it?”, Eddie sighs from his spot against the wall. “The three of us don’t exactly know who we are together anymore.”

You gently smile in his direction as you reach for his hand.

“We’re best friends. Always have been.”

######################

1980

“Eddie, why does that sound familiar?”, you grin from your spot on his bed where you had been listening to him strum his new guitar his uncle bought him at the pawn shop in town. 

After his run in with the lady in town today, Rick offered him something from his secret stash. He was amazed at how fast it began working, numbing the anger he was feeling and pushing him to a blissful state he didn’t want to experience alone.  

Grinning, he continues to move his fingers as his gentle voice fills your ears. 

“Baby, if I think about you I think about love Darlin', if I live without you I live without love.”

“They’ve been playing it on the radio nonstop.”, he chuckles, rolling his eyes.

“You sound amazing. I can’t wait to see you on that stage one day.”

“Pfft. Me? Al Munson’s trailer trash kid rocking it out on stage making millions of dollars and being successful?”

 Fueled with frustration, you grip his chin and force him to look at you. 

“Don’t ever let me hear you say anything like that again, Edward Munson. You are NOT trash and you’re nothing like your dad. You can be anything you want to be.”

“Yeah…tell that to people in this backwards town.”

“Fuck what these people think! I think you’re fantastic and so does Steve. You hung out with Rick today. I’m sure he thinks you’re an awesome friend.” Your eyes scan him over when all he does is nod. “Eddie, did something happen in town today? Did someone say something to you?”

His own beautiful, chocolate color hues stare past you for a moment before he blinks back into the moment and flashes you a big, tooth filled grin. 

“No, sweetheart. I guess I’m just feeling a little low today. I’m sorry.”

Running his fingers over the strings, he plays the song with much more vigor than before. 

“I would give you both night and day Love satisfyin'

Feel like makin' Feel like makin' love.”

“Mhmm. What do you know about makin’ love, Munson?”, you giggle allowing him to lighten the mood. 

“Oh, baby. I’m going to be a rockstar, remember? I know everything.”, he winks.

***

You smile as you sit in the booth watching Corroded Coffin play their music. Eddie was in a completely different zone as his fingers ran across the strings of his guitar. This was his dream; this is what he always wanted but always felt was out of reach. 

When he was in his drugged out haze you would watch him lazily try to play but stumble as his fingers trembled against the instrument. It killed you because you could always picture him on stage with a crowd full of people screaming his name. He just never believed it himself. 

“That was good, baby.”

“That was fucking garbage, Y/N. I barely played anything that would count as a note.”

“That was fantastic guys. Eddie, your band undersold your talent!”, the producer compliments making the metalhead blush. “Ok, let’s take lunch and we’ll come back in about an hour. There’s a cafeteria on the first floor if you guys are interested. It’s on me.”

“You sounded amazing.”, you grin as you meet him in the hallway. “I told you that you were going to be a rockstar one day.”

“Ha! I’m not quite there yet but thank you, sweetheart.”

After getting your food, you both sit and talk about the last couple of years. Eddie told you about some jobs he worked at in Indiana not wanting to be too far from the guys so they could practice and work on things together for the band. He mentioned Wayne and how well he was doing especially after being promoted to a higher position at his work. 

“He deserves it. Wayne always worked way too hard for almost no money and appreciation.”

“Tell me about it.”, he chuckles. “And of course, the first day he starts his new position, he gets a crush on one of the female employees underneath him!” 

That makes you laugh hard and he relishes the sound as his eyes watch you light up. That feeling of regret washes over him and he averts his gaze to his plate as he shuffles some food around.

“So, um, any rockstar boyfriends out there touring the world?”

“No, no boyfriend. I focused on myself more than anything and honestly haven’t had time for a full-blown relationship.”, you reply. “What about you? Any new girlfriends?”

“Naw, sweetheart. I’ve kind of been doing the same thing more or less.”, he answers sullenly. “Quite frankly, I haven’t met anyone who would be willing to sneak backstage of a Metallica show and pretend to be the building manager to get her boyfriend an autograph.”

This time when you laugh, he cackles with you and embraces the warm feeling that follows. 

“I told him it was for my kid.”, you blush. “God, hopefully I never have to write for them. I’ve been lucky so far but that will be an awkward exchange if they remember me!”

“Are you kidding, princess? You definitely leave an impression! Who could forget about you?” Eddie froze as he heavily exhaled and shook his head. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry…”

“No, Ed, it’s ok…”

“You would think I’d have this down by now but…”

You nod before you rise to your feet and get on his side of the table to sit beside him. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you lean your head on his shoulder as he reaches up to caress your arm.

#################

1980

Steve tenderly grins your way as he watches your eyes light up at the movie Kungfu you two had been watching. Well, you had been watching. He had been stuck in his own head after that ridiculous conversation with his dad. 

“Son, you’re about to start high school which means it’s time to really buckle down and focus. No more fucking around. If you want to run my company one day you can’t keep being lazy.”

While he had been talking there was a woman in his office waiting for him to give her attention. Her dress seemed way too tight and it inched up her thighs as she sat on top of his desk. Steve would never understand why his father cheated on his mother. To him, these women weren’t nearly half as pretty as her nor anywhere close to being as loyal as she was. 

His dad said he needed to ‘buckle down and focus’ but what he heard was ‘it’s time for you to start being like me’. 

Steve hadn’t planned on coming over but he felt weird after drinking the bottle he found. He thought booze were supposed to make you happy but he found himself feeling incredibly lonely. When he showed up unannounced, you opened your front door and eagerly ushered him with no hesitation. 

You always made them feel like they mattered. 

“Steve? Are you alright?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m ok. Just thinking.”

“Did you want to watch something else? I put this on because I know the cheesy effects make you laugh.”, you giggle as his smile grows. 

“Naw, honey. This is fine. My dad was being…himself you know?”

“I know. You know you can always talk to me. I love you and I’m always here for you.”

Opening his arms wide, you fall into his embrace and he prays you don’t smell the liquor that lingers.

***

“Oh, wow. Look at you and you have your own shelf.”, you tease as Steve leads you into his office. 

After leaving Eddie so Corroded Coffin could continue recording, you headed to the center the other boy worked at so he could give you the “grand tour” as he called it. You grinned at the drawings and pictures he had posted everywhere around him. Multiple books and files were strewn out all over the place on his desk but a particular photo caught your eye. 

“Oh, um, yeah. I still keep that there as a reminder.”

Picking up the image of you three at the amusement park, you smile as you fall into the memory. They both seemed extremely content that day as if all their worries had disappeared. You thought about that day often to especially when you passed one on the tour bus you were riding in at the time. 

“The kids ask me about you two constantly.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Do you want to meet them?”

When you nod, his grin stretches across his face as he giddily grabs your hand and guides you to a much larger room where some kids were already sitting around waiting. 

“Mr. Harrington brought a date to group!”

“Look at Hugh Hefner over here!”

“’Bout time you settle down, old man!”

“Alright, alright. All of you settle down.”, Steve jokes as you laugh. “This is my friend from Hawkins I tell you guys about. This is Y/N.”

“You’re the girl he doesn’t shut up about.”, a young lady smiles. 

“That would be Amanda.”

“I know you. He told me all about you on the ride up here. Your work is amazing.”

“Thank you!”, she beams.

Taking a seat beside Steve, you watch as he conducts the group session, introducing each kid and responding where appropriate. You couldn’t help but marvel at his change as he took control and seemed way more confident than he ever did back home. 

There was no one he needed to impress or a “legacy” he needed to live up to. He could just be himself.

“Please, Katie. Trust me, your mom doesn’t fucking care. That’s why she drinks.”

“Derek.”, Steve warned. “That’s not how we talk to each other in here.”

Your eyes scanned over the boy across from you. He couldn’t be older than 17 but he seemed to carry years of anger and burden on his shoulders. His arms were folded tight around his chest; a barrier to protect him from anyone trying to get in. Emphasized by the oversized hoodie that he kept up over his head. 

You knew this boy; you had been him.

“What? Am I wrong? If she cared she’d stop fucking binge drinking every night and actually spend time with her daughter.”

“Who in your family drinks? Mom or dad?”

All eyes turn to you after you pose your question.

“My dad. Why? Does it matter?”

“Yes, it does. I know how hard it is…to have someone you love choose substances over you. It fucking hurts.”

“Look, I don’t need another adult to patronize to me, okay?”

“She’s not. If anyone understands what you guys are going through it’s Y/N. Especially you, Derek. Remember how I told you guys about my accident and DUI? Y/N was…was in the car with me.” Steve stumbles over his words before quickly trying to regain control again. 

“Hm. Did you rat him out? Is that why he’s clean now? Are you going to tell me I should be open and honest or some shit?”, the boy spat.

“No, I didn’t. I actually told the police I didn’t remember who was driving. Took a couple of weeks though because I needed surgery after metal from the car sliced through me. He never even came to the hospital.”

“Wow, Mr. Harrington. You were an asshole.”, a girl sighed. 

“I was wasted and terrified. I couldn’t face what I did to someone I loved.”

Derek’s eyes were suddenly glassy as he adjusted his body in his seat.

“He does love you, honey.”, you coo towards the boy as his bottom lip quivers. “If it were as easy as putting the bottle or drug down they would. Some people can but for others it’s so much harder. Whether they heal or not is ultimately up to them but no matter what happens, Derek, none of it is your fault.”

The young man sighs as he breaks down and the girl beside him wraps her arms around him as he cries. A palm touches yours and you turn your head to see Steve’s soft eyes taking you in. 

You see the never-ending apology within them as flashes of the old boy you knew before the booze pushed through before receding as he flashes you a gentle grin and lifts his hand. 

################

1983

“Guys, really? Do we have to eat all this before going on the rollercoaster?”, you giggle as you watch Eddie pour more cheese over the nachos in front of you three.

“Yes, sweetheart, we do.”, he answers in a serious tone as his tongue pokes out of the corner of his mouth. 

“And the cherry on top.” 

Steve produces a cupcake from his side and places it in front of you as the metalhead pushes a candle through the top of the frosting. You smile as Steve cups his hands around it while Eddie pulls out his lighter and ignites the wick. 

“Now make a wish and blow out your candle.”

Your gaze shifts between their happy faces as they wait for you to complete the task. 

“I wish everyday could be like today.”

As you blow it out, both boys clap and cheer making you blush as Steve kisses your cheek. 

“Happy birthday, beautiful.”

Eddie leans over to take hold of your jaw and peck your lips before sitting back down. 

“Happy Birthday, princess. Now, you eat this while sire and I devour this here.”

“Why do I have to and she doesn’t?”

“Because it’s her birthday, Steven! No stop whining and say Ah!”

As the boy scowls he unhooks his jaw and Eddie shoves a chip into his mouth making you laugh as you lean against him. 

“Oh my god, you two are ridiculous! I love you so much.”

***

You laugh hard at the joke Eddie had made as Steve struggles to keep soda inside his mouth while he cackles with you. 

“I really missed you guys.”, the metalhead announces, his gaze shifting between you both. “I mean I’ve made a lot of new friends you know but I talk about the things we used to do like me doing Karaoke to make Steven laugh or you and I, Y/N, going to the horror movie marathon just outside of town.”

“I remember that. That was so much fun.”, you smile. 

“One of the things I enjoy about my job is interacting with those kids. Most of them are sarcastic as fuck like you, Ed, or extremely kind like, Y/N. Thank you for what you did with Derek today by the way. He struggles to talk about his relationships with anyone let alone about his dad.”

“May I ask what happened? You mentioned our accident…”

“Um, yeah. It was kind of the same thing. His dad hit a car with him in it while drunk, ran from the scene, and Derek took the blame. His dad begged him to before he bolted…kid was only 15.”

“Jesus.”, Eddie sighed. “Sounds like my dad.”

“He seems like a good boy. He’ll be okay.” You flash him a comforting grin and he can’t help but smile back. “I, um, I feel like we keep ignoring the elephant in the room. I want you to know I am genuinely so proud of you both. Steve I never imagined you’d be as confident as you seem now. You always told me you thought you were worthless and I know that’s because of your asshole dad. I watched for years as you lived in his shadow but were still so terrified of becoming him… Those kids don’t have to experience that because they have you now.”

“Eddie, you were always afraid of people abandoning you and numbed yourself constantly. When you were numb you were so angry and heartbroken. When I saw you playing your guitar again with your band… you finally seemed at peace.” 

Your voice cracked as a tear escaped your eye and you awkwardly laughed as you wiped it away. 

“That’s all I ever wanted for you two.”

“6 months ago… when I relapsed… I was in such a low place. My apartment I was staying in got robbed, I had just been let go from a job I was at, and this girl I was dating said she didn’t want to see me anymore. She said I was loser and it fucking hurt like hell. I felt so alone and it was almost like a dream. I barely even remember where I bought the drugs or how I got back home but as soon as it hit my nose I regretted it.”

“Y/N, I saw your face and everything I wished I could take back. The fights, the names, the pain… The way we talked to you.” He cringed as memories flashed through his mind.

“I get that. Of course, my biggest regret is the accident but the one I think about the most is the first time we were intimate when we…I…” You looked at Steve with sincere confusion not thinking anything of that night. Then again compared to all the others you had after it was just a blip in a chaotic timeline. “Y/N, honey, you lost your virginity on my couch after threatening to leave us because of the jugs of liquor you found in my trash.”

“We should have done it right. I picture us taking you to dinner and you’d be wearing that red dress we loved.”

“Yeah, that one floofed out above your knees kind of like a tutu.”, Eddie chuckled. “With your hair up in a ponytail so we could so your face. You always wore make up but you never needed to. You were…are… so beautiful.”

“How are you two dressed?”, you murmur their way.

“Let’s see. I’d probably have my jeans and black shirt but I would have made sure it was clean with little to no cigarette smell.”, the metalhead jests causing you two to let out a little laugh.

“I’d have worn jeans to but a nice polo shirt I think to go with it and that expensive cologne my dad kept buying me.”, he smirked. “We’d take you to Enzos because you deserve a nice meal but of course you would complain about the prices even though we insist it’s no problem.”

“Some soft music would be playing and we’d ask you to dance.”

Steve rises to his feet and messes with his stereo till a slow 70s song flows through his speakers. Extending his hand to you, you take it as he pulls you to your feet and places one of his palms on your lower back as he holds the other in the air. 

“Is this ok?”, he whispers under his breath, exhaling heavily in relief when you nod. “I would tell you about how I fell in love with you the first time I met you. You said all the girls in your class had a crush on me but I didn’t get it. I think I said something along of the lines ‘I’m not that great.’ And you said—”

“I don’t know. You seem pretty great to me.”

He tenderly smiles at your response before grabbing your hand to spin you and pass you to Eddie who was waiting with open arms. 

“I would have probably made a joke about the music saying that dancing to Dio is way better.” He smiles when you giggle. “I’d tell you that the first time I saw you I thought you were way too good for me. I remember you asked about my black eye my dad had given me and it surprised me. Every other adult already assumed or were afraid to ask, staring at me constantly. But you actually fucking cared.”

“Then what would happen?”

Eddie passed you back to Steve and this time you wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your head against his chest. You didn’t see it but he and the metalhead exchanged a glance filled with slight worry as he held you and leaned his cheek on top of your head. 

“Y/N, honey—”

“You don’t have to answer. I can let you go, we can get ready for bed, and go back to being friends. We’ll always be at least that because I agree with Eddie. I miss you two so much but unlike the first time I left…I don’t feel bad about it.” 

Pulling away from him, you back up a bit to address them both. 

“I’m happier than I’ve ever been and you were right in the letter you left me. I had some more healing to do to. I needed to find out who I was without you and now that I figured that out…I want to see if…maybe…we can start over. I mean we’ve all grown so much and I’d like to get to know the two men in front of me.”

Their eyes continually scan over you, trying to understand and get a true read to make sure you’re alright.

“But like I said, you don’t have to. We can go back to laughing or go to sleep. If it makes you feel better, you taking my virginity that morning…I don’t remember it being a bad experience. Yeah it hurt but it was going to for me anyway and not just because I was virgin.”, you tease, smirking their way.

You were surprised when Eddie was the first to move, taking agonizingly slow steps till he was directly in front of you with his nose hovering just above your own. After blinking a couple of times, he pulled you into his embrace and you closed your eyes as you inhaled his signature smell while clinging your arms around him. 

“I love you.”, you whisper. As if your words were a match, they ignited the metalhead’s passion as his hands tilted your head back and he kissed your lips. As if muscle memory was taking over, you clung to his neck as you jumped up into his arms and his hands promptly took hold of your thighs as your legs wrapped around him. 

As he starts to carry you, his feet give out underneath him as he trips over something and you both tumble to the floor. He manages to keep himself from crushing you as his palms shoot out to catch himself on the hard wood. 

“Fuck! Shit, I’m so sorry. I forgot for a moment this wasn’t my place.”, he chuckles shakily. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”, you laugh.

“I feel like a fucking teenager. I’m actually…I don’t know…nervous.”

“Would it…make you feel better if I admitted I’m nervous to? It’s been a while for me and if I’m being honest I think I’ve only been with you guys sober that one time but that was after that intense session. We’ve never been together…like this.”

Wind moves your hair and you both turn to see Steve laying out one of his blankets with a couple of pillows on the floor. 

“I wish I had lost my virginity to you.”, he admitted. “I was wasted and I’m ashamed to say I don’t even remember the girl’s name. I think you’re the only girl…woman… I’ve been with sober.”

“I was half awake.”, Eddie sighed. “Karla something in the back of my van. I barely remember it either.”

“Were you rough with the other girls like you were me?”, you asked.

“Sometimes but you were the only one that seemed to enjoy it.”

“Did you?”, the metalhead asked. “We never even asked what you liked in bed. Just kind of did our own thing…”

“I did and I didn’t. I hated when we did it after a fight. Kind of like that night we went to Steve’s house after spending time at The Hideout. Eddie said I wanted to fuck Andrew and Steve, you got mad at me because I defended you in front of your dad. You said I butted in and made things worse. You both said you were going to use me one last time before I abandoned you.”

“And I choked you too hard…”

“Sometimes if you both were angry enough the line would blur.”

Steve’s head hung knowing he was the culprit of most of your verbal sparring matches with him. He cringed every time he thought about the awful things he had said to you while drunk. 

Scooting closer to him, your hand reached out to grab his chin lifting his face so you could see his eyes. 

“I love you to.” The man sighed as your thumb caressed his bottom lip. “Show me the men you are now.”

When his lips connected with yours, you wanted to cry because for the first time in a long time you felt safe. Your tongues mingled together as his hips grinded down against yours eliciting a soft moan as you turned your head to find Eddie. Steve’s mouth continued to travel to your neck as he clung to you, your fingers threading through his hair as the metalhead leaned down to kiss the other side. 

Kisses and stolen touches were exchanged as clothes were removed, you not wanting them to be too far for very long as their lips refamiliarized them with your body. Lifting your legs open wide over both their hips, you mewled as their fingers ran delicately up your thighs. 

“This is what we should have done.”, Steve whispered in your ear. “We should have taken our time with you; made you feel more comfortable.”

“Made you feel good and help prepare you.”, Eddie added as he tenderly kissed your cheek and the side of your face. 

When his thick fingers slide into your core, your eyes rolled as your head dipped back. Both your palms ran along cocks and the sound of their groans in your ears had you clenching tightly around his digits. When Steve joined his friend and massaged fast circles into your clit, you knew you wouldn’t last long.

“Fuck, please. Just like that.”

They each grinded against you, desperate for relief as the sound of your slick filled the room as they picked up their pace. 

“That’s it, honey. Cum for us.”

“We got you, pretty girl.”

Your body trembled as you came, your lips searching for theirs as their fingers guided you through. 

“Fuck, that was sexy.”, Steve panted against your lips as he maneuvered himself on top of you. “Wait, fuck, do I need…I may have some condoms somewhere…”

“No. It’s ok. I’m still on the pill.”

Softly grinning down at you, he places a peck on your lips before trailing kisses along your cheek and to your ear. 

“We should have asked that first time. We didn’t even bother. We were so afraid you really were going to leave…”, he whispered. Reaching between your bodies, he gripped the base of his cock and gradually guided it into your core. “Oh my God, Y/N.”

Steve groans as your pussy stretches to accommodate his size and the memory of that evening smacks into you like a ton of bricks. 

“Steve, you’re so big. It won’t fit—”

“It will, honey, I promise…”

“Just go slow and keep talking to me.”

“No, no, baby. You’re ok. Eddie, fuck, can you—”

“Are you ok, sweetheart?”

“Hurts.”

“Hey, are you alright? I’m not hurting you, am I?”

Tears start to fall from your eyes but as the man lifts himself up to pull out and comfort you, you wrap your arms around him to hold him to you. 

“I’m ok. Don’t stop, please, and don’t stop talking to me. You feel so good… I just…I love you.”

His heart flutters at your admission every time he hears you say it. They both thought they had lost you forever and rightfully so but to know they have a chance… they weren’t going to waste it this time. 

Steve slowly began pumping his hips, relishing the feeling of you clinging to him again. 

“I love you to, baby. This is how I should have taken you that first time, nice, slow, and—fuck—so deep. Your pussy so fucking tight as it pulls me in. I can feel you everywhere, Y/N, you’re so warm and wet. You take my cock so well…such a good girl.”

Your eyes rolled as you clenched at the name. With anyone else you had been with you never allowed them to play rough or tell you things like how good of a girl you were or anything like that. It reminded you of them and truth be told you only really believed it when they said it. You didn’t want to push them but you wanted them to know it was ok to be a bit more passionate when it came to you. 

“I’m your good girl?”, you whimper making him moan. 

“Fuck, yeah, honey. You’re our good girl.”

“Then fuck me like a good girl deserves, Steve.” As his head falls between your neck and shoulder, your fingers cling to his hair as he thrusts his cock into you a bit harder than before. “That’s it. Just like that.”

Your eyes swiveled to look for Eddie, finding him beside you both stroking his length as he waited. The sight drove you wild as the other man moved at a faster rhythm, pounding into that sensitive spot inside you that had your jaw going slack. 

“Please…please, Steve. I’m gonna cum.”

Reaching for your hands, he pinned them above your head as he held them in his own, intertwining his fingers with yours as he sucked little marks on to your neck. 

The coil in your belly snapped as you repeatedly moaned his name, his lips hastily meeting yours to swallow your moans as he chased his high. 

“Can I swallow your cum, baby? Please?”

He doesn’t respond as his eyes stare into your own but as his hips sputter he quickly pulls out of you and crawls up your body to push his dick into your awaiting mouth. His fingers tangle in your hair as you bob your head and he mewls as he spills his release down your throat. 

As he backs away from you, you sit up and kiss his lips, his palms cupping your face as he holds you close to him. After caressing his cheek and silently assuring him you were alright, you shimmed your way to the metalhead and wrapped your arms around his neck as he adjusted himself till you were sitting on top of him straddling his waist. 

“It was my first time with the woman I loved and I didn’t even get to see your face.”, Eddie murmured as his hands traveled down your sides to rest on your thighs. “I barely even checked in to make sure you were ok.”

As he spoke, you continued to look down at him as you dragged your pussy lips along his cock.

“I should have had you on top of me just like this so I could see you and you could see me. See that beautiful face scrunch right here when you slide me in.” He smiles when you giggle as he pokes your forehead. “Fuck, Y/N, I missed a lot of things but nothing more than your laugh, sweetheart.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you tilted down to kiss his lips and his palms clung to the base of your neck as you guided your hips down onto his length. 

“I love you, Eddie.”

“Mmm—I love you to, pretty girl.” Subtly bouncing on top of him, you both mewled as his tip hit that soft spot repeatedly. “There you go, princess. Still so fucking tight.”

Your eyes searched his face as he licked his lips and arched his neck, the veins along his throat making you moan. 

“Spank me.”, you plead as your nose grazes his. “I promise it’s ok.”

His eyes fully open, meeting your own as you place his hands on your behind. Gauging your reaction, he kneads your meaty flesh as he guides your movements.

“Fuck, baby. You look so sexy riding my dick. Make yourself cum. I want to feel your pussy squeezing me.”

Bouncing as hard as you can, your head falls on his shoulder as his palm spanks your ass and he feels your warm breath heat his skin. 

“A-Again, Eddie. Just like that.”

Ring laced fingers take hold of the back of your neck as his other arm circles around your waist to hold you still as he plants his feet and thrusts up into you meeting your motions with a hard one of his own. 

“Like that, Y/N? That the spot? I know, sweetheart, I got you.”

That wasn’t the first time he had ever said those words to you but this was the first time you ever believed him. 

“Say it again.”

His head turned slightly to kiss your temple as he softly murmured his last sentence till you tumbled over the ledge and he spanked you again as he helped you ride your high. Leaning back on your knees, he followed you and you hugged his head to your chest as you rolled your hips till you felt him warm your insides. 

His lips roamed your skin as he guided your sweaty bodies on your sides. A second set of welcomed kisses glided along your shoulder blade as you felt yourself slowly drift off into bliss. 

###############

1982

“Fuck, why am I nervous? We’ve known her since like 4th grade.”, Steve hyped himself up as they sat outside your door in his car. 

“Yeah, but this is different. We’ve never looked at her that way before and vice versa.”, Eddie sighed.

“I mean…I always thought she was beautiful. I just…what would a perfect girl like that want with an asshole like me?”

“Steve, you’re not a…well you’re a little bit of an asshole.”, the metalhead teases making his friend laugh. “I get it though. She’s perfect to me to and deserves more than some trailer trash felon’s kid.”

As his hands begin to shake, he reaches into his leather jacket for his pack of cigarettes.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m ok. I just haven’t had a hit all day and I’m jumpy. I wanted to be sober for our first date with her.”

Steve smiled at his friend as he flashes him his jacket pocket. 

“Same. No flask or any alcohol.” Eddie nodded as he patted the man’s shoulder. “You’re not trailer trash, Munson. I hope you know that. You’ve been my best friend to and I’ve never once seen you that way. I love ya, man.”

“Aw. I love you to, Harrington.”, he replies in a high pitch sing song voice before glancing out the window. “Thank you. I don’t know where I’d be without you guys.”

Grinning, they both hop out of the car and knock on your door, their jaws dropping when you greet them in a beautiful blue dress they had never seen on you before. 

“Wow, you two look handsome.”

“We don’t look half as good as you. Oh my god.”, Steve compliments making you blush. 

Eddie extends his arm like he had seen so many times in movies, his smile widening when you loop your own through it and lean over to kiss his cheek. 

#############

You woke up to the sound of beeping as your eyes opened in search of the noise. Steve groaned as he rolled over, blindly searching before holding up his watch, and pushing the button to silence it. 

“Do you have to go to work?”, you whisper, smiling when he shakes his head and turns back onto his side reminding you of the little boy who used to do sleep overs with you in elementary school. 

As you try to face him as well, you realize a tattooed arm is laying across your chest and glance over to see Eddie on his tummy with his messy hair blocking his face. Tenderly, you reach over to move it to the side, rousing him from sleep as he scrunches his nose and blinks before pulling you closer to him till his nose was pressed against your cheek. 

The first time you met him his hair was extremely short and he had bruises everywhere. When he came to your house, you could tell he felt out of place but you extended your hand and allowed him to hold it if he felt uncomfortable. Those first couple of times he stayed over, you would wake up with the back of his palm near yours. 

Fingers tracing your skin bring you back to the present as your eyes meet Steve’s and he smiles as he runs them up your arm and down your stomach. Your breathing hitches when you feel the tips along the scar on your stomach. 

“Does it still hurt?”

“Sometimes…when it rains or snows… or when I dream about it…” His amber eyes scan your face as you continue. “Those are the two experiences I think about a lot still. You two screaming at each other before leaving me and finding Eddie ODed…”

The man’s thumb caressed your skin as he kissed your skin.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“I meant what I said before that night two years ago. I forgive you both. This past week just hearing and seeing how far you two have come… I loved you both so much but I never felt safe. Last night and right now… I feel like it’s finally safe for me to let go and trust you again. If you want that…if you want me…”

Eddie’s lips abruptly crash to your own before kissing your nose and up to your forehead. 

“I love you so much, Y/N. I will always want you, baby. I promise you ARE safe with me. I got you.”

Steve lightly grips your chin, turning you to face him as he kisses your lips as well. 

“I love you, honey, and you are all I’ve ever wanted. You’re safe with me to and you both are more than welcome to stay here or we can look for a bigger place. Whatever we have to do, I’m in.”

You held them both to you as the tears began to flow, thankful that your lives would no longer be trapped in memories but new beginnings with the two people you loved the most and loved you. 

################

[nametakensff]

Worth It (D/isco E/lysium, M/M)

Okay - this fic follows up just over a month from my 3 part K/im x H/arry series (that you don't need to read, I just ended up accidentally writing my fics as part of a continuous AU...again lol), featuring the aftermath of fetishist H/arry dealing with the slow return of certain memories, his budding romantic relationship with K/im and his past hook ups with J/ean

It ended up at 12.9K 😅 All three of them sneeze but it's mostly a J/ean fic (H/arry x J/ean with established H/arry x K/im, and then some H/arry x K/im x J/ean)

~~~~~

Content:

M/M, M/M/M mentioned and ongoing, H/arry has a sneezing fetish, cold sneezes, contagion, mentions of hay fever, rapid sneezes, spray, sneezing on someone, some mess mentions, nose blowing, audibly wet nose rubbing, masturbation, hand jobs, cumming in tissues, tissues, handkerchiefs, coughing, fever, dirty talk, implied praise kink, embarrassment/humiliation, verbal teasing, fantasies and mentions of public masturbation, graphic descriptions of semen, mentions of anal sex, threesomes, brief phone sex, brief exhibitionism/voyeurism fantasy

CW: mentions of past abuse, mentions of alcohol and drug abuse, mentions of physical violence, toxic relationships, abusive language (this fic has J/ean in it it's unavoidable), H/arry has a brief fantasy about licking cum off his hands and using cum as lube, mentions of J/ean and H/arry fucking at an active crime scene, self-hatred, some dudebro jabs at homosexuality

NSFW - Minors DNI!

Jean had a cold. A miserable, eye-watering doozy of a cold. It had started as a few errant sniffles and coughs here and there, perhaps a slightly more notable weariness when he spoke – but nothing could have prepared Harry for the sheer amount of sneezing he would witness as the illness progressed. Four days in, and Jean was a wreck. He refused to take sick leave, even having amassed a considerable amount of days over the years due to pure obstinance. He pointedly ignored any glances of either concern or aggravation as he sneezed, over and over, either into the protective cover of his elbow or a bundle of damp tissues. Not even Judit could convince him to go home.

“We’re in over our heads as it is, Jude. I don’t have the time to laze around in bed with all of – this waiting to be finished.” He’d gestured with a wide sweep of his hand not only over his own desk, but at the general maelstrom of officers marching back and forth across the bullpen, coming and going in a constant stream of activity.

“We’re wading knee-deep through an endless river of bureaucratic bullshit with an incapacitated workforce.”

“I can hear you, you know!” Harry had piped up, sat at his desk with his head in his hands as the mountainous piles of paperwork loomed over him. Kim shot him a sympathetic look from where he sat at his own new desk.

“I meant you to!” Jean growled, before a sudden teasing gasp had him spinning desperately away from Judit and sneezing fittishly into the crook of his elbow. Harry’s stomach was aflutter with butterflies as he watched. He couldn’t make out a sound, not over the din of the office and with the sheer willpower Jean had managed to exert over keeping the sneezes as locked down as possible. He finished shuddering a few moments later and extracted his face from the protective covering of his arm. He somehow now looked even worse for wear.

“Désolé.”

This was meant for Judit – Harry was sure he didn’t particularly give a rat’s ass about what anyone else in C Wing and beyond thought about these increasingly recurrent sneezing fits. The patrol officer in question squeezed his shoulder, her face a mask of concern and frustration.

“Will you at least go home when your shift is over?”

“Yes.” Jean lied.

Defeated and entirely used to accepting it with grace, Judit withdrew. She was smart like that. Harry had watched Jean watching her leave, waiting until she was out of sight before allowing his expression to waver – a look of total surrender, mouth dropping open and brows lifting high before his entire face crumpled. He’d sneezed against his wrist - five times consecutively, if the rhythmic trembling of his shoulders was any indication. When he lifted his head at last, he was bleary eyed and snuffling most pathetically. It had gone straight to Harry’s dick. Sensing eyes on him, Harry turned and noticed with no small amount of embarrassment that Kim had been watching him watch Jean. Not knowing what else to do, he’d shrugged his shoulders apologetically. Kim had merely raised an eyebrow and smirked at him before returning to his own work as if nothing at all had transpired.

Harry had been grateful for the noisy ambience and Jean’s own stubborn tactics of suppression. As long as he didn’t look in his direction, he could almost – almost! – pretend that his fellow officer wasn’t clenching with a paroxysm of tickly, cold-induced sneezes every five minutes or so. He had actually managed to put a dent, although minimal, in some of the simpler paperwork. More importantly, he had kept most of the blood in his brain and out of his dick.

It also seemed as though the way Jean stifled his sneezes into almost near silence didn’t provoke much ‘sympathetic’ sneezing in Kim, as Harry had come to label it. In typical analytical fervour, he had come to understand the perfect conditions to induce a reaction in Kim. He had deduced the following:

Volume. The louder the sneeze heard and/or witnessed, the higher the exponentiality of sneezes on Kim’s behalf.

Desperation. The more irritated, aggravated or generally torturous a sneeze sounded or appeared, the more likely this bizarre form of nasal sympathy was to occur.

Pre-existing sensitivities in Kim. Exposure to dust, cold air, a general fatigued immune system – an already irritated nose was prone to further irritation.

Naturally, a combination of all three in Martinaise had given Harry the show of a lifetime. He had (secretly, sadistically) been hoping Kim would catch his cold, but somehow he had managed to avoid it, despite having been miserably worn down and concussed by the time they finally completed the case of The Hanged Man.

Harry kept these ruminations to himself, of course. Maybe he would share them with Kim at some point. For now, at least, there had been no major paradigm shift, and Jean’s sneezes, whilst undoubtedly desperate, were lacking in volume, and Kim was entirely healthy and irritation free. That wasn’t to say there hadn't been any response from the Lieutenant, no. Harry had looked over with depleting subtlety more than once, prompted by a soft gasp, to watch Kim shudder into a small fit of his own on the tail end of Jean’s, and damn near bit through his tongue each and every time.

This system of deny and ignore had proven useful only until the night shift began. Normally, the bullpen was busier and the officers replacing those having finished the day shift would more or less keep the building near constantly occupied. Whatever evil god ruled over Revachol had decided that day, however, to summon every gang banger and petty criminal imaginable and enlist them in the sole mission of keeping damn near all officers of the 41st entirely occupied – and, more importantly, out of the office. It also just so happened to be the night that Harry had reluctantly agreed to stay and get through some paperwork, and Jean had in turn stubbornly refused to leave him unattended. Harry was slowly regaining his trust, and in Jean’s defence, he had evidently been awful at staying on top of paperwork pre-amnesia, and just as resistant to completing it in his recovery.

It shouldn’t have been an issue – but with every officer that left, taking both their physical presence and ambient sound with them, it was increasingly difficult to ignore Jean and the steadfast progression of his cold. Whilst his sneezes were apparently on continuous lockdown, he had long abandoned any attempts to blow his nose in relative silence. Every couple of minutes, Harry’s heart raced in his chest as the loud, obtrusive sound of Jean forcing air and mess out of his miserably congested sinuses echoed out in the office space. His nervous energy was manifesting in a persistent shake in his leg, tapping his foot over and over.

Kim had left early, for him, as well. He had made a habit of staying a few hours or more post shift ever since his transfer to the 41st, realising just how much they had fallen behind in administration. Harry admired him for it – paperwork, though sometimes exciting to record in the moment, was undoubtedly one of the worst parts of being an RCM officer, tediously boring at times – and yet Kim was consistently fastidious, conscientious, and perhaps most importantly, punctual. Today, though, he had excused himself almost within a minute of the day’s end.

“There’s a pivotal race in the TipTop Tournée being broadcast tonight at 7pm – I’ve missed the last few. I’m dying to see how it turns out.” He explained in response to Harry’s wounded complaints about abandonment.

“Oh yeah…you did mention that, come to think of it.” Harry recalled that when Kim had been discussing the race, he had been paying too much attention to the way the Lieutenant’s face had lit up in enthusiasm to really retain any information pertaining to the date of the event in question.

“I’m also exhausted – and it looks like the both of you are, too.” He glanced pointedly at Jean. “Don’t stay too late, detectives. Insufficient health begets insufficient policework.”

“I’m fine.” Jean croaked. Neither Harry nor Kim offered a response, though both had winced at the sheer raspiness of it.

Harry looked up at Kim as the Lieutenant pushed his chair under his desk. His big, baleful and truly pathetic eyes signaled quite clearly ‘do not leave me alone with him’. Kim simply looked at him, shook his head almost imperceptibly, and smiled in response. Harry sighed.

“Bye, Kim.” He mumbled despairingly.

“Goodbye, Harry.” Kim replied pleasantly. He tipped his head at Jean, currently recovering from his most recent series of tightly stifled sneezes. “Officer Vicquemare.”

“Lieutenant.” Jean muttered, not even bothering to look up from his paperwork. He looked thoroughly unwell, and Kim’s eyes lingered on him for a moment longer before meeting Harry’s gaze. The pair of them shrugged at each other, and Kim was out the door moments later.

And so, here Harry sat, not 45 minutes later and already so unbelievably sexually frustrated he had practically eaten half a pencil. It just wasn’t fair. The bullpen was probably the most silent he had ever known it to be in his entire time at the 41st. He knew this in his bones, regardless of solid memories to go off. Besides the sound of the city beyond the windows of the building and the hum of various electronics, the only other noises to be heard were as follows: Harry’s audible pencil consumption. Harry’s tapping foot on the linoleum floor. Harry’s fingers drumming on his desk. Harry’s grunts of frustration. Jean’s throat clearing. Jean’s coughing. Jean’s sniffling, sneezing, nose blowing – every noise imaginable of the miserably congested. And the inexplicably loud clock driving Harry to the brink of insanity as it ticked its way through this test of mental and physical fortitude.

The tail-end of Jean’s latest sneezes caused his sinuses to squeak quite audibly. It was the final straw for Harry – he needed to take a fucking walk. He pushed back his chair and stood up much more violently than intended. Jean cast a weary glance his way.

“Not leaving, just – kitchen. Need anything?”

Jean stared at him a moment longer, leaving Harry to sweat and wilt under his stony gaze, before returning to his work. He cradled his forehead in one hand, closing his eyes for a moment.

“No.”

Harry waited to see if anything would follow. When it didn’t, he strode out of the bullpen and down the hallway, shielding his erection as best he could with what he hoped was a subtle hand in front of his crotch. He walked towards the kitchen, fully intending to grab a sugary snack of some description as a form of distraction, but decided last minute to make his way to one of the several payphones at the end of the corridor.

“Hello?” Kim answered after the third dial tone.

“Kim,” Harry sighed desperately into the handset. “I think I’m dying. Jean, He is - He’s. Driving me insane.”

Harry heard Kim sigh an equally desperate sigh of his own. In his mind’s eye and in Kim’s apartment, the Lieutenant cast a nervous glance towards the clock on his wall. The hands were rapidly approaching 7pm. He was comfortably settled next to his radio with a can of beer. This was not ideal timing.

“You’re not dying, detective.” He offered drily. Harry was undeterred.

“But you see, Kim, I think I am. I have no idea how to deal with this. You know I don’t. You know that firsthand.”

The entire reason he and Kim had fucked in the first place had been because this stupid fetish had rendered him incapable of keeping his dick in his pants. The results had been overwhelmingly positive – they were still fucking now. Regularly. They had even started sleeping over at each other’s apartments. They went on walks and to cafes together. Neither had vocally confirmed it, but it seemed obvious to Harry that they were at least kind-of sort- of dating. Pseudo-almost-boyfriends, one might say. It had been a happy accident, and his embarrassing inability to keep his shit together had somehow – inexplicably - won Kim over.

 Jean was not Kim.

Harry’s memories had been coming back incrementally – little pieces here and there with the occasional groundbreaking moments of picture-perfect recollection. He had remembered very little about Jean  – had forgotten him entirely with the initial amnesia – and this was evidently, and understandably, an extremely sore spot for the younger officer. It turns out that he was Harry’s bona fide best friend, on top of his partner. More complicated was the fact that they had fucked, many times. This had come to light when Jean had caught Harry kissing Kim in the precinct parking lot.

“Well. I can’t say it isn’t somewhat relieving that an Officer as competent as Lieutenant Kitsuragi has equally as shitty taste in men as I do.”

Harry had barely a moment’s notice to let those words sink in before the vivid memory of Jean writhing underneath him knocked the air out of him. From that moment, he had been inconsolable. Was he in a relationship with Jean? Was he actively cheating on him right now? Had he liked men before Kim?? Jean and Kim had in turn done their best to mollify him, settling him and themselves into Kim’s Motor Carriage to conceal this latest mental breakdown from any passing officers.

Jean had confirmed that they were not in a relationship, and they had done very little fucking, if any, for at least six months, for obvious drug-and-alcohol-spiral related reasons. Harry was a little relieved, but still devastated to have forgotten. He could tell that this gaping nothingness in his brain regarding Jean deeply hurt the younger man, and for that he was truly apologetic.

“It’s fine, Harry.” Jean had spoken to him in the kind of tone one might use to console a cornered animal. “You remembered something just now. You’ll remember more, over time.”

It was the softest Jean had been with him since Martinaise. Harry had felt the tears welling up in his eyes almost immediately.

“Kim wasn’t my bisexual awakening?” He’d asked in a tiny voice, sounding ridiculous but authentically devastated and confused enough that neither Kim nor Jean had laughed at the absurdity of it.

“It’s okay.” Kim had reached out and patted his arm. “It doesn’t change anything. I won’t take it personally.”

Harry had burst into tears anyway. He was still crying by the time Kim’s MC rolled to a stop outside his apartment building, and was only just winding down by the time he was escorted to his flat by both Kim and Jean.

In present day, he leaned his head against the wall beside him. Kim cleared his throat.

“I can’t stay on the phone for long. I’m not sure what to suggest other than finding a means to take the edge off. Actually-“ Harry could hear that he immediately regretted that particular phrasing. “What I should say is, find a way of achieving relief.”

“Kim.” Harry smiled. “Are you, for the second time since we’ve met, suggesting I rub one out during work hours?”

“I assumed it was par for the course with you, Lieutenant Double-Yefreitor.” The way his voice dropped an octave with the flirtation was doing nothing for Harry’s erection.

“You’re not helping,” He whined down the phone.

“Probably not. I’m just telling you what I would do if I were you. Find somewhere private and have an orgasm.”

Now that really didn’t help. The thought of Kim masturbating at his desk, head thrown back in ecstasy as he pleasured himself in plain sight made Harry’s cock twitch. He ignored the ‘private’ part, instead picturing the smaller man surrounded by an audience of hungry onlookers.

“Dammit.” He growled into the mouthpiece. He heard Kim chuckle on the other end of the line. “I guess I’m going to have to. But I’m worried he’ll come look for me if I’m gone for too long.”

“Well,” Kim started. Harry could just picture the subtle smirk of his mouth. “It shouldn’t take you very long, all things considered. Maybe you could start now.”

“You know,” Harry breathed out, “I didn’t peg you for a sex pest. Encouraging phone sex on top of it all.”

“Relax, Harry, I’m just teasing you. You’re fun to tease.”

“Fucker.”

Kim just laughed. The sound of it made Harry soft all over.

“I guess I really should go and…take care of myself. I can’t sit there anymore, constantly on the verge of going off in my pants like a fucking teenager.”

“You’re just sensitive. It’s not a bad thing. Extremely impressive for a man your age, and with your history of substance abuse.”

Kim was, within reason, in the habit of putting a positive spin on all of Harry’s flaws and fuck-ups. Harry could see how from the outside this may appear overly mollycoddling, but even if that were the case, it had done wonders for his almost non-existent self-esteem. He drank the compliment in as eagerly as he would have liked to down a double vodka and lemonade.

“I guess, but – I mean, it’s so awkward. I don’t even know if he – you know, knows. About my thing.”

Kim laughed again, uncharacteristically hard for him. Harry blinked and said nothing, letting the younger man compose himself.

“Oh, Harry. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh at you. But he most certainly knows. The two of us have actually discussed it in relative detail.”

Harry gaped, almost dropping the phone in shock.

“You Judases! Ganging up on me when my back’s turned-!”

“You’re being dramatic.” Kim drawled. He was clearly enjoying this reaction. “It was a short conversation, one smoke break. I don’t even remember how we got onto the topic. But rest assured, he definitely knows.”

Harry paused, gritting his teeth and forcing himself to probe for more.

“How…does he know. In what way?”

“Let’s just say…that you liked to take advantage of Satellite-Officer Vicquemare’s hay fever – which I’ve come to understand is quite impressive, in full swing.”

Harry’s cock throbbed dangerously in his pants, drooling into the fabric of his underwear.

“Fuck, fuck, fuckkkk…!”

“Mhmm. In fact, I believe you almost contaminated an active crime scene with semen residue following such an exploit. Jean seemed to imply this was the case.”

“God…” Harry muttered. He suddenly felt an overwhelming sensation of loss mingling in with the horniness – not dissimilar to the way he felt when Dora sprung to mind. “I wish I could remember. This sucks.”

“…I’m sorry, detective. I didn’t mean to upset you. For the record, I haven’t disclosed any particular details of intimacy between us to him.” He paused for a moment, sounding genuinely dismayed. Harry knew it hadn’t been his intention to trigger any amnesia-related sadness.

“Okay.” He muttered pathetically, suddenly on the verge of tears. He was slowly realising that even without the withdrawal or presence of narcotics in his system, his default setting as a human being appeared to be overly-emotional and very bad at controlling it. He heard Kim tut affectionately over the line.

“These things will come back to you, sporadically. The hospital has said as much. You don’t need to worry, I promise.”

“…Yeah.” Harry nodded, tears beading his eyes. Kim couldn’t see him, but the motion alone was soothing.

His erection seemed undeterred by this rapid swinging of moods. It felt like he didn’t often give his body time to catch up with his emotions. Either way, it was still there, tenting his trousers in plain view of anyone who might walk past. He glanced around. The building was still eerily empty. That one unearthed memory of Jean squirming underneath him as he pistoned in and out of him danced seductively behind his eyelids every time he closed them.

Kim was waiting patiently for him to speak. Harry knew the race would be starting imminently – he should wrap this up.

“Kim?”

“Yes?”

“I might have to fuck him over this. Would that…be a problem?”

He waited with eyes scrunched shut for Kim’s response. This was…a grey area. Something they hadn’t really discussed. Exclusivity.

There had been one evening – a particularly emotional one, in which Jean and Harry had been working through their past grievances. This involved a great deal of Harry being exposed to more and more news of the complete and utter asshole he had become as his alcohol and drug abuse soared. The pain on Jean’s face at times made him feel physically ill just shy of vomiting. He was disgusted with himself.

Kim had been present, a self-elected referee to ensure neither men whipped each other into an emotional frenzy from which there was no return – or at least to step in if things turned physically aggressive. The whole thing had ended up sort of like a strange counselling session with Kim as the occasional de facto therapist. It was funny, looking back. It felt like they’d made genuine progress together, but by the end of it Harry was exhausted and practically oozing self-hatred. What had started as comfort from both Kim and Jean in the form of a gentle palm rubbing his back here, a reassuring squeeze to the thigh there had…escalated. Quite rapidly. He didn’t even remember who made the first move but fantastically, miraculously, an evening of homosexual group sex had unfolded.

By the end of it, Harry had been physically sated but in a state of near disbelief. He could no longer tell if the amnesia had been the worst or best thing that had happened to him. An orgasmic gay threesome with his fellow police officers was definitely not what he had expected going into that discussion, but he wasn’t about to look that gift horse in the mouth. In a matter of weeks and culminating in this one evening, he had gained a kind-of-sort-of boyfriend and more or less patched things up with his forgotten-best-friend-cum-fuck-buddy. And he’d even gotten to watch them fuck each other on the living room floor when he’d taken a breather for a glass of water.

Nothing of that nature had occurred between the three of them since. Nothing had been awkward the next day at work, not even remotely. Jean and Kim seemed perfectly at ease with each other, at least from what Harry could see. In addition, Jean’s face seemed to light up with hope each time Harry remembered something about him – even the awful things. It was bittersweet, getting to know him all over again. He wanted to do better than before – couldn’t even imagine treating Jean the way he had. He wanted to respect his boundaries and take things slow – if that was what Jean wanted.

Fucking Jean in the office without Kim because all of the sneezing he’d been doing had gone straight to his dick was probably the worst idea he’d had in a while. Not a boundary to be seen – and he would be taking it about as slow as a Mach 5 missile.

Kim broke the silence in a matter of seconds, though to Harry it may as well have been hours, for the agonising anxiety it caused him.

“I…don’t recommend exposing yourself to the virus when your immune system is already so compromised.”

Harry huffed out a dead-pan laugh.

“I think you know that’s not what I mean. Is it…okay? Me and him, without you there?”

Kim hesitated for a moment, then let out a measured sigh. Harry could picture him massaging the bridge of his nose underneath his glasses.

“As much as I like to indulge you, I’m okay with not being sneezed on by Satellite-Officer Vicquemare for now.”

His voice had a playful lilt to it, which was somewhat reassuring, but wasn’t enough.

“I’m serious, you know.” Harry gripped the mouthpiece of the phone tightly, the plastic audibly crunching under the pressure. “I really l-!..like you.”

Fuck. He had almost, almost dropped the L-bomb like a batshit crazy person. He felt himself flushing like a bashful little boy. Kim said nothing. Harry swallowed nervously and continued.

“I want to be with you. Like a boyfriend, I think. I don’t know. I’m not – I’m not very good at this. I’m evidently horrible at relationships.”

“…Harry-“

“And it’s important for you to understand that. Umm. I’m not just using you. For sex.”

“Harry.” Kim said. His tone was warm and patient. Harry didn’t interrupt him this time.

“I like you too.” He sounded genuine, and happy. “If you’re asking me to be your boyfriend, then…yes. I would like to try that.”

Harry punched the air in a silent dance of victory. He managed to swallow the urge to whoop like a lunatic and let Kim finish.

“You have a shared history with Jean. He’s an excellent partner to you, and an exemplary RCM officer. You were never in a romantic relationship, and neither of you have expressed an active desire to pursue one. I trust him, and I trust you. And I really do like Officer Vicquemare…”

Harry listened, sensing more.

“I also liked the way he whimpered when I fucked him up the ass.”

Harry let out the strangest combination of surprised laughter and heated groaning. Kim chuckled in response.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” Harry pushed after a beat. “If it’s an issue – getting my rocks off, with him, like this – then I promise, I won’t so much as look in his general direction-!”

“It’s okay, Harry. Really. Again, despite everything, I trust you both entirely. Maybe I’m completely stupid, I don’t know. I’m still getting…acclimated.”

That was an understatement if there ever had been. Precinct 41 was everything Precinct 57 was not – chaotic, abrasive, action-packed, a clusterfuck of insanity. In Harry’s opinion, though muddled of mind that he was, Kim was doing an excellent job of taking everything in his stride.

“We can talk about what we’re doing when I see you tomorrow. My race started two minutes ago. Go and get sneezed on by your subordinate officer. Or, like I said, don’t. It seems like a particularly nasty cold.”

Harry had been doing a great deal of gaping stupidly over the span of this conversation. He did it again for good measure.

“I…don’t even know where to start. Man…Okay. I’ll…figure something out. We’ll talk tomorrow?” He asked, his heart fluttering in his chest.

“Tomorrow.” Kim agreed. “You’re ridiculous. Turns out, I like that.”

Harry grinned.

“I hope your guy wins.”

“Me too. Goodnight, detective. See you in the morning.”

“Night.”

Harry hung the phone back in its cradle before exhaling a huge breath he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding. He felt giddy and exhilarated with a hopefulness he hadn’t experienced in what had to have been years.

“What the fuck,” he laughed in the empty corridor. This was insanity, but if there was anything this last month and a half had taught him, it was to go with the flow and enjoy it. He didn’t always need to be fighting tooth and nail for control in a Universe that did what it damn well pleased, no matter how hard he resisted. This acceptance of futility was nothing like the suicidal ideation of his drug-induced spirals. It was paradoxically the most empowering realisation he had come to perhaps in his entire adult life. Whatever happened, would happen. He would accept it with as much grace as he was capable. Which was admittedly not a lot, but hey. Nobody could say he wasn’t trying his best.

~~~~~

Harry helped himself to biscuits and tea in the kitchen and sat for a while, contemplating his approach. Jean and Kim were very different beasts when it came to the appeal of Harry’s…well, everything. Whilst Kim appeared – and still very much was – quite distant at times, Harry could practically see him opening up day after day like the delicate unfurling of flower petals. Jean had known Harry for years and had both the psychological and physical scars to show for it. Being a pathetic, horny freak had perhaps charmed Kim due to its novelty. Begging Jean for a quick office fuck, from what he could glean, was surely the go-to approach he’d used on his partner before he’d forgotten everything. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to go down that route again, especially when Jean was undeniably ill and pissed off about it.

He sighed, dunking his last biscuit in his tea and barely even noticing when half of it sank to the bottom of the mug in a soggy lump. He didn’t want to be overly direct, but he doubted there was any other way to approach the matter. He made up his mind and decided he would prefer any rejection coming from Jean in the form of a quick punch to the face rather than any awkward verbal letdown – the kind of which would inevitably follow any subtle attempts at flirtation on his part.  

When Harry arrived back at C Wing, Jean was mid sneeze. Harry watched him from the doorframe and knew with utter certainty that he had to fuck him. It was a primal need at this point.

“hH-Dtch!-Ngxt!-Gkkt! Hh! Dsh-tshh-tsh!”

Perhaps he hadn’t noticed Harry watching him – how could he, as preoccupied as he was sneezing himself stupid. He was stifling a lot less successfully, barely trying at all. His poor sinuses sounded miserably swollen, his inhales when he was given half a chance to take them shaky and exhausted, the poor bastard. Harry wanted his cock buried to the hilt inside of him.

Jean finished at last, sighing from the depths of his being and simply sitting still for a moment. Arms propped up on the desk, he leaned his forehead into his left hand, tentatively rubbing his nostrils with one crooked knuckle of his right. Harry strode towards him and stood before his desk, practically vibrating with energy. Jean lifted his head, cast his bleary eyes towards Harry’s face where they lingered for a moment, before taking in the impressive bulge Harry now made no effort to shield.

“What the fuck are you-”

“You’re driving me crazy. I want to pull my cock out and cum all over the place.”

Jean’s mouth dropped open. It was somewhat pleasing to Harry, to see such an expression on his partner’s face. These days, being most often met with derision, bemusement or melancholy, it was nice to shake things up a little, to know he wasn’t an entirely predictable cliché to Jean. He also liked seeing that mouth wide open – the suggestiveness of it. He wanted to see that more often.

Once the initial shock seemed to leave his system, Jean glanced around as if to confirm that there was nobody else to eavesdrop on Harry’s relative insanity. The room was as empty as it had remained for the past couple of hours – no other officers magically appeared from behind any furniture, ready to point and jeer. He turned back to Harry, but the older man cut him off before he could start chewing him out for his unabashed brazenness.

“I’m serious, you know. You’re painfully hot right now. I can’t think about anything else.”

He briefly squeezed himself through his trousers for emphasis. Jean’s eyes lingered long enough to make Harry grin.

“…And how would Kitsuragi feel about you touching yourself in front of me, getting off on my misery like the fucking pervert you are?”

Jean’s words were biting but there was no real animosity behind them. His bleary eyes seemed brighter, alert and pensive all of a sudden. Something about the way Harry’s cock throbbed in response to the derision, the ease with which the words poured out of Jean with no hesitation at all made it clear that this was an area of great familiarity for the both of them.

“Oh, don’t worry about Kim. He all but told me to fuck this out of my system.”

That wasn’t strictly the truth, but it wasn’t a lie either. Jean scoffed in response.

“I knew he was a freak but I didn’t take him for a cuckold.”

“Hey, that’s not-“

“Shut up, you presumptuous cretin! I should punch you in the face for calling your boyfriend and asking permission to – what, fuck me? Before you even asked me?”

Harry cringed a little. This was actual, legitimate anger now – and when Jean put it like that, he really did seem like an asshole. A selfish part of him loved hearing his partner refer to Kim as his boyfriend, but he buried it for the moment. He may be a presumptuous cretin but even he knew if he started giggling like a love-struck teenage girl right now he really would be getting a fist to the face.

He paused for a moment, taking in Jean’s ire and the way his pale eyes pierced into his own. And then he opened his mouth.

“Don’t take this out on Kim. You seemed perfectly fine letting us double team you a few weeks ago.”

Jean made a strangled sound and flushed so hard he looked almost purple under the shitty, fluorescent lighting.

“That was different, you moron! We weren’t in an office, for one. It just happened. And I could breathe out of my fucking nose then.”

Harry couldn’t help the little twitch of pleasure his cock gave at both the memory of their sex and Jean bringing attention to his current, miserable condition. He peered down his nose at him, happy the younger man was sat down whilst he stood. It gave him a little leverage, the illusion of domination, to be towering over him right now.

“I doubt we’ve never done it here before. And Kim told me that you told him – behind my back, by the way – that we’ve fucked at crime scenes too!”

Trying not to think about the grossly teenage sounding 'he said, she said' turn of phrase, he initially omitted the part about Jean’s hay fever before hesitating, reconsidering and adding:

“And from the sounds of it, you couldn’t breathe through your nose then either. And you still wanted it, Vic.”

Jean blinked at him, looking a confusing mix of sheepish, perturbed and aroused. Harry realised he’d called him ‘Vic’; it felt familiar, rolled right off his tongue. That nickname on top of the damning accusation of his willing participation seemed to have rendered his partner temporarily speechless. Whilst it was pretty fun, it also felt a little too much like bullying. Harry sighed, and dropped to his knees, resting his chin on the desk and peering up at Jean with big, watery eyes. He hoped that the shift in positioning would make Jean feel better, even if it made him look pathetic.

“Please?” He batted his eyelashes up at the younger man. “Getting off will help me focus on these cases.”

Jean scoffed, again, and scrubbed his animated nostrils with one crooked finger. Harry zoned in on the motion, biting his lip as an audible squishing noise filled the air and Jean’s finger came away slightly shiny.

“You want to get off? Go jerk off in the bathroom and quit bugging me.”

Harry growled, gripping the edge of the desk on either side of his chin and staring up at Jean, who was no longer pink with embarrassment but staring daggers at him all the same.

“But – don’t you want to watch me cum for you? Because of you?” He scrambled to his feet again, leaning over the desk and hovering his face right in front of Jean’s. The younger man’s breathing seemed laboured, and not strictly because of his cold. He was turned on by this. Harry decided to go for gold and flashed him the sexiest version of ‘The Expression’ he could muster. Jean looked pained.

“Harry…” He breathed against Harry’s lips, leaning subconsciously towards him. “You can make things up to me by doing your goddamn work.”

“That’s…that’s kind of putting the cart before the horse, though.” Harry mumbled. Jean likes horses, he remembered. Maybe he’d find that turn of phrase endearing.

Harry watched him take it all in. He could practically visualise the process of Jean’s thoughts as he worked through resistance, indignation, and then – at last – reluctant acceptance.

“God fucking damn it.”

He stood, pressing a finger underneath his red-raw nostrils as if another sneeze was imminent. Harry hoped that was the case. He staggered backwards, excited grin plastered to his face and heart pounding in his chest.

“Don’t look so fucking pleased with yourself.” Jean muttered, walking in the direction of the copy room. Harry continued to look pleased as punch, trailing after Jean’s purposeful stride with a slightly more awkward gait. The zipper of his trousers strained against his burgeoning erection, growing impossibly harder now that there was promise of relief.

Harry slammed the door shut behind them, locking it for good measure just in case the station inexplicably flooded with life. Jean was leaning back against the printer when Harry turned to face him, muscular arms crossed over his broad chest. In this stance, he could really appreciate the results of the many hours the younger man spent working out to an almost pathological degree. His biceps strained against the cotton of his shirt, and the way his sleeves were rolled up to the elbow, leaving his hairy forearms exposed…Harry fought back a sudden pavlovian deluge of saliva at the sight of him. The way Jean was regarding him with a mixture of irritation, arousal and amusement was doing nothing to calm the throbbing between his legs.

Harry walked the few steps towards Jean and stared back. When Jean made no move, said nothing but offered a congested sniffle in response, Harry tilted his head a little in confusion.

“So, umm…?”

The older detective motioned with his hands, a distinctive ‘what gives?’ motion. Jean just smiled derisively at him.

“What? I thought you came in here to jerk off. So jerk off.” Even though the cold had left him pallid and drained, Harry didn’t miss the way his pale eyes glittered as he spoke.

“But, can I? I mean, aren’t we-?” Harry floundered slightly. This was not what he had had in mind. He realised suddenly he wasn’t entirely sure what he expected from the interaction. He’d only really been thinking about having an orgasm. But Jean had lead him here – surely that was an invitation for – what, a quick fuck? Hand jobs, blow jobs, mutual masturbation? Just. Something…together.

Jean’s amusement visibly increased with every passing moment of Harry’s braindead confusion. Sadistic bastard, Harry thought. His dick twitched in earnest.

“Use your words, shitkid.” Jean smirked at him, rounding off his command with a waterlogged sniffle that sent a shiver down Harry’s spine. He didn’t give Harry so much as a chance to do so before continuing.

“I came in here to sneeze in privacy – you followed me. You thought I was going to drop to my knees and suck your dick?”

Harry visibly wilted, mouth dropping open in dismay. This was revenge. Petty, mean-spirited revenge. Sure, Jean hadn’t actually agreed to do anything – Harry had just followed him of his own accord but – but! The implications!

Jean watched his face as these thoughts whirled round his brain. Apparently, he must have looked about as pathetic as he felt, and Jean started to laugh. It was a nice laugh – a genuine laugh, maybe a little endearing and at odds with the spiteful way he had been addressing him moments earlier. Harry waited for him to finish, and he soon did, clearing his throat a little as if embarrassed at his own naked display of amusement.

“It’s okay, shitkid. You can take your cock out and enjoy the show. But I’m not touching you – I feel like fucking shit.”

Harry listened to him speak, watching his face intently. This was the first time Jean had admitted out loud to feeling unwell, even if it was blatantly both visually and aurally obvious to everyone else around him. It seemed he’d tired himself out with the domineering bravado, slumping a little against the copy machine, no longer having the energy to maintain his upright posture. His nostrils were also twitching, a surefire sign that he was about to start sneezing, and soon.

“Fine. Okay.” Harry muttered, already feeling the heat gathering and pulsing outwards from his groin at the mere promise of what was to come. He managed to extract his hard cock from the confines of his trousers, narrowly avoiding catching the delicate skin in his zipper, and wrapped one sweaty, spit slick palm around it. It immediately felt incredible, and he swore as he started to stroke it. This would not take very long.

Looking up from the tantalising sight of his own hand working his cock – a huge cock, a cock he was pathetically proud of – he focused his eyes back on Jean, and was glad he had done so. He stared as the younger man shuddered with a round of desperate, tickly little sneezes, all successfully stifled into silence against an outstretched pointer finger. Fuck, Jean looked good like that, cringing into that tight, pained expression as he bit down on every sneeze. His nostrils looked so lovely and so red in sharp contrast with the rest of his pale complexion. Harry wanted those nostrils pressed up against the shaft of his cock. He thought about Kim doing the same, willingly teasing him with sneezes and making him cum embarrassingly quickly, like the way he had done last week as they fooled around on his couch. His cock drooled precum.

Jean had a moment’s reprieve before he was scrambling in his trouser pockets for a tissue, extracting one at last that looked entirely worse for wear – balled up into no more than a lumpy mass, completely past the point of usefulness. All the same, Jean was bringing it up to his poor, flaring nostrils, giving Harry just a moment to take in his creasing eyebrows, the grimace of his open mouth as the tickle crested and he sneezed fiercely into it.

“Hn’tshh!! TSH’iew! Nd’Tsh! Tsh-Tshht!!”

He gasped, an intensely desperate sound that had Harry gasping too. And then the cycle repeated.

‘Ddtsh! Tsch’uu-TShht!! Hgk’Tssht! Huhd’Tishh-Tissh-‘Ddtshieww!!”

Harry was in pure, fetishistic ecstasy, squeezing and stroking his cock for all he was worth to those gorgeous little sneezes. It was so erotic, that such a gruff, muscular man was rendered entirely helpless by such proportionately tiny releases. His own huge sneezes were a lot more appropriate for a man his size, he thought, but the contradiction only seemed to turn him on even more than if Jean had sneezed with equally gigantic proportions. It was endearing, if one could describe something as such even whilst it resulted in an erection the hardness of which titanium couldn’t hold a candle to.

Jean paused for a moment, nose still buried in the pathetic knot of tissue, breath scissoring in and out of him. Harry steeled himself for more, slowing down his stroking so that he wouldn’t topple over the edge just yet. He wanted to cum so badly, but he wanted more. He wanted to watch Jean’s face completely unobstructed by hand or tissue alike. He wanted to see the way they would overwhelm him without the interference of suppression. He bit his bottom lip, trying not to whimper as his subordinate officer hitched, and hitched, and hitched -

“Please,” he gasped out, the sudden raspy outburst a lot louder than he had intended. It was evidently loud enough to throw Jean off balance, huffing in frustration as his sneeze failed to culminate past a desperate, vocal “Huhhdt-!!”. Harry groaned in response, felt his dick throb in his grasp as Jean’s face pinkened in embarrassment over the aborted release.

“What is it? You distracted me. Fuck, it burns!”

He proceeded to scrub at his poor nostrils with the sodden tissue, nudging the tip of his nose from side to side. Harry could tell he was genuinely tiring of the persistence of the tickle. Vague memories suddenly skimmed his brain of Jean at the tail-end of spring and over summer, bullying his nose with the knuckles of his hand when a pollen-induced sneezing fit lay just out of reach. Come to think of it, they were coming up to May very soon…god. Harry sighed, squeezing his cock to these happy thoughts and watching as precum beaded at the head. Fuck, this felt so good.

“Sorry, sorry, just please - don’t use the tissue. And don’t hold them back. Please? You’re so fucking hot.”

Jean’s blush deepened – whether in frustration or arousal at the compliment, he couldn’t be sure. Either way, it went straight to his cock.

“What? Fuck you. You don’t get to tell me how to sneeze.”

He was a little pissed, his accent thickened in overly performative and righteous indignation at the suggestion of catering to Harry’s specific whims. If Harry wasn’t mistaken, and his gut assured him he was not, it seemed like defensiveness against the fact that he would very much like to be told what to do. This felt, again, familiar. It made Harry harder to hear the way his loss of composure elongated the vowels in the word ‘sneeze’. He stroked himself a little faster.

“Come on, Vic. Do it for the station. I need to cum and clear my head so I can finish all that pesky paperwork. Please?”

He batted his eyelashes again. It wouldn’t have worked on just anyone, no – the sight of a 44 years old, recovering alcoholic police officer, wild-eyed and desperate with cock in hand, begging for his subordinate officer to sneeze uncovered so he could shoot his load. But this was Jean – normal rules did not apply.

“We’ve been through this, you prick. You should fucking do your paperwork without the promise of orgasm because it’s your fucking job!” Jean spat, raising his voice a little more than his irritated throat could take. He coughed harshly for several moments into a raised fist before sighing miserably, glancing up at Harry with a look of surrender. Harry shivered a little, resumed squeezing the head of his cock where he had temporarily abated in nervous concern at the voracity of the coughing. He ended up letting out an embarrassingly high-pitched whimper, bucking into his own grip. Jean sighed.

“Fine. I need to sneeze again, don’t distract m’hh-! Me…”

His breath started to softly hitch. To Harry’s delight, he shoved the soggy tissue back into his pocket and let his head fall back ever so slightly, allowing him to get a perfect view of his crumpling, desperate expression. Jean didn’t think he was a good-looking guy, but Harry wholeheartedly disagreed. He wasn’t one to preach the importance of self-love when he himself struggled to look in the mirror knowing how attractive he’d once been, only to squander it – even if recently, it was getting a little easier to do so. Bravado and charisma masked his discomfort – Jean’s buffer was merely rudeness and aggression. But either way, as he gasped his way into another fit of cock-throbbingly desperate sneezes, Harry had hardly found him more desirable.

“Hhd’Tschht!-D’tshh!! Hh! Hagk’Tisshhiew!! Hgk’Tschh! Hupt’TISHhhiew!! Ihgk’TSHhiew! Higk’TZSCHhhh!...‘DDTSH’uuu!!”

Jean shuddered, gripping the surface behind him as the force of the releases threatened to topple him. Each sneeze sounded positively ruined, as if his body could barely handle the cold-induced tickle that flared again and again. The first two Jean had stifled out of habit, before he’d remembered Harry would very much like to be sprayed with every single one of them. By the time he’d finished, his eyes and nose were leaking, and Harry’s legs were starting to shake with the effort of holding himself upright, a mind-numbing orgasm looming and sapping him of motor control.

“…You’re going to fall down if you don’t hold onto something. We don’t need a repeat of you nearly braining yourself on the edge of a table.”

Jean brought this up so readily, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As if Harry should easily remember this fact, the fact that he and Jean had fucked around enough that he had (embarrassingly) injured himself falling to his knees in orgasm before. And he should remember. Why couldn’t he remember?

“I…don’t remember anything like that.” Harry confessed, throat tightening a little.

“I know. It’s okay.” Jean softened immediately, opening his arms up to Harry. “Come here.”

He shifted forward until he was stood between the protective embrace of Jean’s spread thighs, sighing a little as the younger man reached out to place both hands on his waist, steadying him. Harry himself reached out with his free hand past Jean’s waist to press against the sturdy surface of the copy machine. He watched as Jean took a moment to scrub at his nose with the wad of used tissues. It was such a handsome nose – prominent and strong, perfectly suited to his face. Watching it twitch and wriggle and hearing the soft clicks of moisture the motions created as Jean bullied it made his cock throb. He so desperately wanted to replace Jean’s hand with his own and play with it himself, but before he could even move to do so, Jean was dropping his hands right back to Harry’s waist and sneezing all over his chest.

“AEGK’Tssch’uu!! Higk’TSschTtt! ‘TSCHh’uu!! Hh’TISH’ieww!!”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Each sneeze sounded so incredibly desperate, so exhausted yet so overpowering, accompanied by a burst of thick spray. Harry’s cock drooled over his knuckles and he whined, low and loud. By the time the fourth sneeze had completed, Harry could feel (and see) the fabric of his shirt sticking to his chest, discoloured where the spray had dampened it. Jean’s tongue reflexively licked his bottom lip clean, thoroughly soaked by the force of his expulsions. He peered tentatively at Harry before his face eased into a relieved smile.

“You really do still like it. Getting drenched by my sneezes.” He was smiling – salacious and assured all at once.

“Yeahhh…Yeah, I really fucking do,” Harry sighed, staring at Jean adoringly as he worked over his cock with a renewed vigour. “Bless you.”

He all but purred the blessing out. It turned him on just as much as any dirty talk, he realised; it was a phrase that encapsulated his adoration, gratefulness and arousal all in one. Jean seemed to enjoy the attention, as well – his breath hitched in a decidedly non-sneeze fashion, and Harry smirked at him.

“Thank you.” Jean practically purred back, gently rubbing his thumbs against Harry’s sides. He stared back into Harry’s eyes, pupils blown so wide the pale irises were almost swallowed by black. “My nose tickles so fucking much. I just want to crawl into bed and sneeze until I fall asleep.”

Oooh, he was good at this. He had an undoubtedly extensive history of saying equally as specific things to Harry. The image of Jean curled up in bed and sneezing all over himself and his bed sheets was a potent one. Harry shivered, biting his lip hard as his knees quivered and struggled to keep from bending.

“Fuckkk…”

The arm he had leant against the copy machine was shaking too, elbow caving inwards and causing him to lean closer into Jean’s space. He didn’t seem to mind, nosing at Harry’s jawline and sniffling noisily. Poor fucking thing – he sounded so congested.

“Poor baby…” Harry breathed out, pressing a kiss to Jean’s cheek. If it was too intimate or too forward, the commotion of his impending orgasm made it very hard to give a fuck. The way Jean’s breath hitched and his solid build seemed to shiver a little at this crooning told him he was probably in the clear.

Jean suddenly pulled his face back from where he had been pressing a kiss to the underside of Harry’s jaw, frantically enough that Harry leant back himself to watch the inevitable unfold. Jean’s breath hitched again, this time due to the merciless persistency of his cold. His nostrils flared, damp and pink, threatening to overflow and make a mess of his moustache. Everything about his tortured pre-sneeze expression was a joy to behold. Harry could understand why he’d taken advantage of it many-a time before. His hand was a blur over his dick; he simply could not stop stroking and squeezing himself to the spectacle of it all. His brain conjured up the image of Kim, watching him watching Jean the way he’d done earlier that day, and he whimpered like a bitch in heat.

“KISHH’uuu!! IhGgKk’TSChhHU! ‘TShhiewww! Fucking h’hell…! hhAGK’TZShhiew!! ‘DZT’shieww!! Ihk’TSsschhttt!!”

Harry almost swooned as the sneezes caught his chin and the exposed column of his throat. He was hot, so fucking hot, even hotter with Jean’s too-warm body so close to his own. He could imagine the delicate aerosol of spray immediately sizzling and evaporating where it kissed his boiling skin.

“Ohh, fuck. Bless you, god, shit. M’gonna cum, gonna shoot…!”

“You make a mess of my uniform, you fucking die.”

Harry groaned through clenched teeth. If Jean didn’t want that, the last thing he should be doing was growling insults at Harry in that stupid, sexy voice of his. His cock throbbed, a decisive pre-orgasmic tremor of pleasure.

Jean seemed to realise any scolding or death-threats on his part were useless – he’d no doubt learned that, right on the brink of orgasm, a hoard of rabid zombies could be seconds away from attacking them both and Harrier Du Bois would be cumming his brains out even as the mauling commenced. Harry felt something press up against the head of his cock, moaning stupidly the second he realised it was the sodden tissue Jean had sneezed and snorted into. His body jerked with the first spasm of orgasm.

Through the roaring onset of his pleasure, he felt Jean wrap an arm round his waist whilst the other clamped the tissue to the spitting head of his cock. Both hands occupied, the younger man was pressing his face against the collar of his shirt, rubbing his nose frantically against him. Harry heard the deep groan he was making as the pleasure started to really crest, so fucking good, hours and hours of tension draining out of him with every blissful twitch of his tortured dick. When Jean’s breath started to hitch, he could feel the in and out of his expanding diaphragm, hear every minute snag in his breathing.

When Jean sneezed, an oh-so desperate triple, audibly and tangibly wet against his collar and bursting across his neck, he all but yelled as his orgasm sky-rocketed from pleasurable commotion to earth-shaking rapture.

“Hh’AHTTt’SHiewww!! KTSh’Schuu!! AEGKk’TSSHhh’uu!!”

His fingers spasmed uselessly against the copy machine, knees all but given out – Jean had had the right idea to hold him up. He was slumped against him, chest to chest, breathing as laboured as a bulldog as the final tremors of orgasm pulsed through him. He just leant there, propped up against Jean like a ragdoll and waiting for his body to cooperate. Jean was slowly rubbing his twitching, damp nose against his neck – it felt electric even in the aftermath of release.

“I never understood,” Jean started, speaking softly into the crook of his neck, “Why you ever felt the need to drink and do drugs the way you did when you can cum like that.”

Harry didn’t know what to say, his brain still a veritable puddle of goo. He’d like to know himself, but he was certain that this sudden resurgence of sex beginning in Martinaise with Kim had followed a relatively lengthy period of LDS – i.e. Limp Dick Syndrome. If he’d been having orgasms, they hadn’t been this fucking good. That he was certain he would have remembered.

“Hah,” He breathed out an awkward, monosyllabic laugh in lieu of anything even halfway intelligent. He smiled and panted, open-mouthed, at the sound of Jean’s responding scoff. He continued to lean there against the warm embrace of the younger man’s body until he felt him shifting in discomfort under his weight.

“Harry. Get off.”

He sighed, pushing himself off of Jean one-handed. He looked down between them, dick in his own hand whilst Jean’s patiently held the snot and cum-filled tissue in place as it threatened to overflow.

“Umm. Fuck. I think I have a handkerchief somewhere, hold on…” He started to root around in his blazer pockets, ignoring Jean’s glare as he unearthed one and started to wipe his hand and cock on the fabric.

“You had that the whole time and you let me use my last tissue to soak up your cum?” Jean rasped. Harry paused for a moment at how unwell he sounded.

“Sorry.” He flashed an apologetic grin at Jean, too blissed out to offer up any kind of excuse. He was getting sick of saying that he’d forgotten things, even if it was true.

“Whatever. Fuck.” Jean tossed the pulpy tissue into the nearby bin, following the trajectory with his eyes and looking pleased with himself when it landed on target.

Harry folded the handkerchief over, offering the clean surface of it to Jean, who took it wordlessly. He tucked his sensitive dick back into his pants, resisting the urge to start coaxing it back to full hardness as the sound of Jean’s lengthy, crackling nose blow forced a pathetic little twitch out of it in response.

Jean snuffled into the handkerchief, massaging his sore, red nostrils, seemingly perfectly content to stand there watching Harry. The older man noticed the prominent outline of the Satellite Officer’s erection, unattended to, straining against his trousers. He looked down at it then up at Jean again, wanting to broach the subject, but then paused, noticing the way Jean was frowning towards the general vicinity of his shoulder.

“What? What’s wrong?”

Jean swiped the handkerchief one last time under his nose before folding it over again and leaning forward.

“Hold still.”

Harry did so, obediently standing in place as Jean scrubbed at the collar of his shirt. He smiled like a dope as he realised his partner was attempting to clean away the prodigious results of that last triple.

“Messy boy.”

“Shut your damn mouth.”

“Is there even any clean fabric left on that handkerchief?”

“Shut up, Harry.”

Harry did. He felt like he was dangerously at risk of swaying in place, the endorphins and release after all the teasing and buildup leaving him far too loose and carefree. Jean pulled back at last, pocketing the handkerchief and rearranging Harry’s shirt collar and necktie. He looked up at Harry, catching him in the act of staring at his face, at the way his dark eyelashes fanned over his cheeks as he worked to smooth Harry out in an almost mechanical fashion. He flashed a little smirk his way, then yanked his tie just so.

“You’re lucky I didn’t use this hideous thing to clean up my mess.” He purred, the raspiness of his voice only adding to the allure. Harry swore under his breath.

“Are you trying to work me up for round two?” He whined. Jean dropped his tie.

“Absolutely the fuck not. Are you going to do your fucking job now?”

Harry sighed. What a fucking buzzkill.

“Yes. Yes I’ll do my job, you win. Although…” He leaned forward, pressing his mouth right up to Jean’s ear and murmuring in a low voice, “I’d like to do you first.”

Jean shivered and huffed a little laugh.

“That was fucking awful, oh my god.”

But he didn’t push him away. He wrapped his arms round Harry’s shoulders instead, humming in approval as Harry kissed his neck and trailed one broad hand down his torso before draping it across the bulge in his pants. He sighed, a gorgeous little exhalation of pleasure that sent shivers down Harry’s spine as he started to unzip his pants.

“Do you want this?” He asked even as his hand collected the moisture from Jean’s tip and spread it down his shaft, stroking him firmly.

“Hahh…Yeah. Mm’fucking tired though. So forgive me for – hah!” He cut himself off with his own frantic moaning. He didn’t bother to elaborate; Harry imagined he really was exhausted if his mouthy self was starting to economise his own verbosity.

What Jean lacked in words was more than made up with by the sweet, continuous stream of moans he let out next to Harry’s ear as he wrapped himself around him, resting his head on his shoulder as the older officer kissed and licked the shell of his ear, whispering words of encouragement and praise. His hand moved instinctually over Jean’s length – at least the easy muscle memory, built up over years of fucking, remained where his active memory did not. He clenched his teeth, pushing back the bitter thoughts and focusing on Jean’s gasps and sighs, the little “Ohh fuck”s and “Like that”s he would occasionally choke out as Harry stroked and teased. His own cock was hard again, but he ignored it, speeding up his pace as Jean’s hips started to buck arrhythmically.

He pulled back to watch Jean’s face as he fell to pieces – a different kind of vulnerability twisting his features into a mask of pleasure, though it wasn’t all that different from the irritated expression a pre-sneeze tickle would take. It was achingly familiar – a face he’d no doubt been made to make hundreds of times before at the mercy of Harry’s hands, his mouth, his cock. He’d watched Jean cum when the three of them had fucked, but this was different – just the two of them together in god knows how long, for the first time since the drugs and booze and misery made him an utterly reprehensible waste of skin. Watching those dark eyelashes flutter like that made his chest tight.

“Harrier, fuckkk…gonna cum-! Fuck!”

Jean started to convulse almost immediately, a shuddering gasp wrenching itself out of him as he trembled in Harry’s grip. Harry caught the spurts of semen with his free hand, a moment too late as the first spasm painted a white stripe over the yellow fabric of the thigh he’d pressed between Jean’s legs. He was too blissed out to care, kissing the corner of Jean’s open mouth as he continued to orgasm, mewling as the pleasure overpowered him. He ejaculated into the cage of Harry’s fingers a couple more times before he sagged in exhaustion, clinging to Harry and moaning, blushing face pressed firmly into the shoulder of his blazer. His voice broke on that last, whimpering vocalisation and Harry’s heart ached for him.

He stood patiently as Jean caught his breath and clung to him like a lifeline. One hand awkwardly closed around the dripping mess of Jean’s orgasm whilst the other loosely gripped his sticky, softening cock. He’d have to wait for Jean to unlock the door of the copy room first, holding both sticky hands upright until he located the nearest sink to wash them off. He supposed he could lick them clean – cum wasn’t the worst taste in the world – but the depravity of it would just make him horny all over again. He may as well just take his own cock out and use Jean’s cum as lube.

He was pulled out of this particular train of thought at the sensation of Jean trembling several times against him. The realisation that he was muffling a series of tiny little sneezes into near silence against his shoulder was doing absolutely nothing to keep the blood out of his insatiable cock. He closed his eyes and pictured his paperwork instead.

“Sorry…” Jean muttered, sniffling as he extracted his face from the makeshift covering.

“It’s okay.” Harry murmured, kissing his cheek. He frowned; Jean’s skin felt even warmer under his lips than before. “You’re burning up, Vic.”

Jean sighed.

“I figured as much.”

He unwrapped his hands from around Harry’s shoulders, looking queerly at him as if he didn’t understand why Harry was still stood there with a hand on his wilting cock until he realised the older man’s predicament.

“Oh, uhh…I’ll get you some paper towels. Wait here.”

Harry waited, eyes closed and replaying Jean’s sneezes and his orgasm over and over in his mind, opening them only once he felt the younger man gently wiping his hands clean. He smiled weakly at Jean, and Jean smiled back at him – shy, boyish. At odds with the lines of stress and exhaustion that marred his face, aging him beyond his years.

“I never meant to hurt you.” It was pouring out of him before he had a chance to think twice. Jean sighed, working on Harry’s other hand.

“Harry. You never meant to do any of the things you did, or so you keep telling me. I don’t need to hear this again. Not right now.”

His smile was replaced by the regular hard line of his everyday frown. Harry could have kicked himself.

“I’m sorry, Jean. I really am. I can’t understand why I did the things I did to you. Will you look at me?”

Jean hesitated, then peered up at him under eyelashes dampened by tears. Harry leaned forward and kissed each of his eyelids, lips coming away salty and damp.

“I never want to put you through any of that again. And I won’t.”

Jean’s lips quirked into a tiny, defeated smile – one that said he didn’t really trust him, but wanted to believe in him more than he ever had before. Harry considered it a success, and pressed their foreheads together for lack of anything better to do whilst his hands were still sticky, though notably less so than before. Jean uttered a soft little hum.

“You just jerked me off and this is somehow even gayer.”

Harry laughed.

“Fuck you, man. You’re ten times gayer than me.”

He kissed Jean for all of five seconds before the younger man couldn’t breathe, ducking into Harry’s shoulder and coughing all over his blazer. Harry winced – the dreamy haze of afterglow was beginning to fade and Jean did not sound good.

“You’re so getting this now. I hope you’re happy.” Jean muttered, wiping his mouth dry with the back of his hand.

“If you think for one second I regret doing any of that, you are sorely mistaken.”

“Hm. Whatever you say, superstar.” Jean drawled, tossing the soiled paper towels into the bin alongside the shredded remains of tissue. “Now, move it. You need to wash your hands and do your fucking work.”

Harry sighed and followed him out of the room, casting one quick glance back over his shoulder to assess the damage. Nothing, thankfully. Just the spray on his shirt and the cum on his leg.

~~~~~

Jean had gone home shortly after their excursion in the copy room, leaving Harry unsupervised. He had done some paperwork, but he had also called Kim from his desk phone when he was sure the race had ended and relayed the entire turn of events to him. He’d also jerked himself off again reliving it all, moaning stupidly down the receiver as he came. He was happy to hear the Lieutenant’s own groan of completion, and he’d ended the call, promising to talk again tomorrow. And not a moment too soon – the bullpen was suddenly flooded by a stream of Junior patrol officers, returning amidst a blessed lull in criminal activity.

The next few days at work had been uneventful. Busy, but monotonous. He’d gone out to dinner with Kim, and they’d fucked. Jean had miraculously allowed himself a solitary sick day, surprising them all. He’d returned the following day, still sick but markedly improved. And that had been that.

Until Jean’s cold finally caught up to him and Harry became a sneezing, sniffling mess almost overnight. He’d dragged himself to work and had hardly had 15 minutes free of sneezing since he’d arrived. He’d figured that Jean’s general nasal sensitivities had been the main cause of the sheer number of times that he’d been sneezing with the same affliction, but no. It was easily one of the tickliest, sneeziest colds he had ever encountered – even worse than his cold in Martinaise.

He wanted to lie around and sneeze in bed, away from the scorn and watchful eyes of his fellow officers. But no dice – he had to work, he had to get through this fucking case and oh – oh god. He had to sneeze.

“IIIEEEEESSSSSHHHTTTTttt!!!”

The sneeze had been cunning and entirely malevolent, not giving him the dignity of even a short buildup before the tickle spiked sharply and it was bursting out of him. It hadn’t been messy, thank god, but it had been wet, and his paperwork had taken the brunt of it as the force propelled him over his desk. He groaned, rubbing the underside of his sore, tickly nostrils with the back of his hand. The files were dappled with moisture, the ink of his chicken scratch handwriting bleeding across the page where the worst of the damage had been done.

Nobody had been passing within range of the spray this time, at least. The surrounding area of Harry’s desk had now been dubbed the less than subtle title of ‘The Splash Zone’, following McClaine’s misfortune to be making his way across the room and in front of Harry the second a particularly violent sneeze worked its way out of him – and all over the younger officer’s blazer. Harry had apologised, but in all honesty didn’t feel the least bit sorry for him – or his ugly, checkered jacket.

He snuffled thickly, wiping his runny nose across any remaining dry skin to be found on his arm and wrist. This fucking sucked. He had known the risks. He had willingly exposed himself to Jean’s cold for the sake of a nut. He had nobody to blame but himself. But it didn’t mean he couldn’t feel utterly, miserably sorry for himself. He cradled his forehead in his hands, doing nothing for the preternatural nasal drainage but feeling too rotten to care.

A shuffling noise prompted him to glance towards the source of the disturbance. Kim was using a pen to nudge a tissue box, half-emptied by Harry this morning alone, closer to him and into his line of vision. Harry peered over in bemusement as Kim, mission accomplished, settled back down into his own chair, looking back at Harry with a mixture of exasperation and concern.

“You really should cover your mouth, Lieutenant Double-Yefreitor.”

Harry sighed, helping himself to a bundle of tissues.

“Sorry. I know. They’ve been sneaking up on me, is all.” He finished before blowing his nose with a resultant sound so thick and crackling that all other noise in the office seemed to dim in comparison.

“Oh, believe me, I’ve noticed.” Kim muttered, returning to his own work with a resigned sigh.

Harry knew he was referring to the way he had been sneezed on this morning, lying in bed as they shared a kiss. It had absolutely destroyed any chance of morning sex and earned Harry one of the iciest looks he had ever received from Kim. He counted himself lucky that Kim was not one to resort to physical violence when slighted, and that his blubbering, heartfelt apology was entirely successful in transforming Kim’s anger into a wilting, stony-faced acceptance.

“I really do have no means of avoiding this illness, now.”

For as bad as Harry had felt about the whole thing, he couldn’t deny that that admission of defeat and the mere thought of Kim catching his cold – this ridiculously sneezy cold – made his cock feel hard enough to cut glass.

A folder of documents was slapped down on his desk with a sudden, resounding slap, making Harry jump and swear behind the tissues. He peered up at Jean, looking almost radiant with healthiness compared the to the state he had been in several days prior.

“From the Boogie Street Stabbing case.” He smiled down at Harry, looking cocky and amused.

“You look like you’re feeling better.” Harry spat, dropping the soiled tissues on his desk and tossing the folder to the right with the rest of the ‘to be returned to’ pile. Jean smiled even wider.

“Apparently the best way to get over a cold is to give it to someone else.”

He directed his best shit-eating grin at Harry, eyes brighter and more focused than they had been in days.

“Wonderful.” Kim grumbled almost inaudibly to the side. He really wasn’t looking forward to getting sick, and Harry could sympathise. He made a mental note to spoil Kim rotten the second he started to feel under the weather. Jean didn’t seem to have heard him, and if he had, he was staunchly ignoring him and favouring bothering Harry the same way a bored child would tease a grumpy old dog.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than rub your health in my face?” Harry snuffled emphatically.

“You’ve rubbed much worse in mine. Consider this pay back.” He turned to leave, but at last minute turned around and deposited another folder – a thick, evil looking dossier on some mob boss or other – on Harry’s desk. “And this, too.”

Harry gaped at him in dismay.

“You’re cruel and unusual!” He groaned after a retreating Jean. His partner merely smirked and flipped him off. It was aggravating, but mischievous and about as light-hearted as Jean was currently capable of. Harry felt, through the weariness of his progressing sickness, a sense of relief. He flipped the bird right back at him, hoping he didn’t look too paradoxically gleeful as he did so.

Jean didn’t seem to notice this capriciousness, just patted his pocket to check for his carton of cigarettes and angled his head towards Judit.

“Jude – smoke break?”

“You shouldn’t be smoking anything – you should still be in bed.”

She followed him outside all the same, more to keep an eye on him than anything else, ready to provide medical attention should he suddenly cough up a lung. Harry envied her immune system – it seemed having kids constantly bringing bugs home was a truly effective form of inoculation to just about anything that was passed around the bullpen.

He watched them leave absentmindedly – before yet another cruel, bullying sneeze tore its way out of him.

“HAAAAEEISSSHHHhh!!...HUH! HAHHHGGGTTSSSSSHHh’uuu!!”

And it brought a friend along with it. A messy friend. Harry clapped a hand over his mouth several seconds too late, muttering an exhausted ‘fuck’ and snuffling into the cage of his fingers. Not getting any warning was incredibly inconvenient but the force of the sneezes, how they sent shivers of pleasure down his spine…that he could appreciate.

“Say it, don’t spray it, Mullen!”

That was Mack, shouting across the bullpen and earning a couple of sniggers in return. He was a meathead, and it was a juvenile, unoriginal and otherwise comically cliché comment. It wouldn’t have bothered Harry in the least had his sneezes been intentionally intrusive, but the fact that he was totally at their mercy brought a light flush of shame to his cheeks. He just wanted to go home and jerk off. He flipped the bird in Torson’s general direction and reached for another tissue.

Kim beat him to it, pressing a bundle of fresh tissues into his palm. Harry looked up and flashed him an appreciative glance, replacing his hand with the tissue. The Lieutenant stood next to his desk, a file underarm, ready to be submitted to Captain Pryce.

“Bless you.” He offered quietly. Harry tried as hard as he could not to visibly squirm. Kim smiled at him. “Was it w-worth...!”

Harry stared adoringly up at him, thanking all his lucky stars for Kim and his ridiculously suggestible nose. If he had a tail, it would be wagging back and forth in a veritable whirlwind of excitement, thumping against the back of his chair.

Kim’s nostrils flared violently and his gaze unfocused, even as he valiantly fought to prevent his eyes from closing. It’s too late, Harry thought. My paradigm is infallible. You’re going to sneeze. He was right, of course; within seconds, Kim’s expression was cinching tight and he was sneezing convulsively into a handful of tissues, plucked frantically from the box on Harry’s desk just in time.

“NGxtt! Hh’NGxt’tzschu!! Hh! hhdt’Tszchhuuu!! Fucking hell…”

In much the same way as Kim had been unable to fight the natural reflexes of his body, so too had Harry. His cock twitched in his pants, filling with blood in an instant. Even if Kim didn’t catch his cold, his own sneezing was an inevitability – which meant so too was Kim’s. Fuck, but he was going to have even more fun with this.

“Bless you!” He offered back, heart thumping so hard in his chest he could hear his pulse in his ears. “And honestly? I think it was worth every second.”

He laughed as Kim tossed his balled up tissues at him and strode irritably out of the room.

[gretavangroupie]

Vigilance (Chapter 19 Part 2)

Word count: 15.1k

Pairings: Jake x Reader, OC x Reader, Sam x Reader, Sam x OC, Jake x OC

Warnings: Alcohol, Gambling, Smoking, Marijuana, Cursing, Dramatic Themes. Smut Including: Kissing, Touching, Making Out, Light Degradation, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Biting, Fingering, Name Calling, Edging, Mentions of Sub/Dom Themes, Voyeurism, Orgasm Denial, Unprotected Sex, Rough Sex, Pet Names, Digital Penetration, Spanking. Angst Including: Jealousy, Possessiveness, Toxic Themes, Arguments, Yelling, Verbal Abuse, Verbal Fighting, Extreme Portrayal of Sadness, Crying, Sexual Assault, Cheating on Partner, Abandonment.

This story is a collaboration with my best pal @gretavanmoon.

A/N: Part two of chapter nineteen! This was never intended to be two parts, but it was longer than tumblrs limits would allow, thus, requiring two parts. If you haven't read part one, you can read it here.

HER POV

Holding the napkin in your hand your face was hot, flushed with nerves, shyness and embarrassment, but you knew all those emotions were unnecessary. You had Jake by your side, and Elle and Sam were your best friends…the night was yours, and it was young. 

You both slid your empty glasses to the edge of the bar, thanking the bartender as you made your departure. You stood and Jake grabbed your hand, lacing his strong and calloused fingers with yours as you headed out the exit into the main lobby of the hotel in search of the elevator. 

The hotel was still buzzing with people, gamblers left and right looking for a place to cash in their chips. Once you found the elevator, you hopped inside with a slew of other people, you stepping to one side, and Jake to the other. You were happy you’d had that giant glass of water; it made you feel a little less wasted than you were earlier, and definitely a lot better about what you were doing now. 

Amongst the ten or so other just-as-drunk people on the elevator, you and Jake stuck out like sore thumbs. Both pressed against the walls as far as you could get, nonchalant and buzzing with anticipation. You held steady glances to one another as you picked at your nails, and he brushed his fingers over his lips. The elevator must have stopped four times before you even made it to the fifth floor, each time it stopped making time seem to drag on. 

Finally, when the elevator had emptied, you were approaching the fifth floor, your departure floor. 

“Babe, we don’t have to do this, you know. We can get off right here and go to our room, tell them you started to feel sick or something…” Jake finally spoke once the doors closed. 

“I’m anxious, Jake. But I’m okay. I…wanna go. Are you okay with this? If we go…? I want you with me…” you offered. 

“Yes. I want to go. Believe me, I want to go. Badly. I just want you to feel comfortable.” He said, taking your hand in his. 

“I promise I feel comfortable. Sam…he’s no big deal. But this is something new with Elle. And for you…I might just need a pep-talk.” You laughed, trying to shake off your nerves, speaking in chopped sentences. 

He took both of your hands in his. “Love, it’s okay. I’m yours, you’re mine. That’s all that matters. We’re just going to have some fun, experiment…live a little. You and I aren’t married yet, it’s okay for us to go and be young together while we still can.”

You sighed. “You’re right. It’ll be fun. What the hell are we doing?” You laughed, physically shaking your hands out. 

Suddenly your back was pressed against the wall of the elevator. “Do you need me to get you worked up again? Need me to remind you of anything, love?” His mouth was to your neck, and his hand was trailing up your dress, fingers brushing up the back of your thigh and over the curve of your ass. 

“I don’t have a problem with reminding you, little preview, hm?” He gripped your ass hard in his hand, pain shooting through from the residual swollen marks from the belt, but all it did was spur you on. The pain was a hellacious reminder of what he was capable of, and who you belonged to. 

“How was that kiss at the bar earlier? Did you like it?” He asked, a low grainy voice by your ear. 

You nodded harshly, “Yeah, I did.”

“Well let’s go see what else you can come up with. Maybe Elle has some tricks up her sleeve…” his tongue was running along the shell of your ear now, his breath heavy as he exhaled into your ear. 

Just then the elevator stopped and the door opened, leading out to a surprisingly empty corridor. The both of you stepped out, and you brought the napkin up to remind yourself of the room number. 

“508.” You said. You walked down the long hallway to almost the very end, stopping short when you heard music coming through the door to their room. You both laughed. “Definitely them.”

Jake knocked hard on the door as you stood back against the opposite wall, crossing your arms over your chest. Jake stood leaning in the doorway, one hand in his pocket and one high on the door frame. God, he’s hot. 

He knocked again as you heard the music turn down, and Sam greeted him at the door. “Room service!” Jake yelled, pushing Sam back into the room. He turned to catch the door for you, allowing you to follow him inside. 

“I didn’t order anything, dipshit.” Sam said as you both came into the room, the smell of marijuana lighting up your senses. 

“No? Well, your girlfriend did. Wrote her order on a nice bar napkin. Just for us.” Jake sat down confidently in a chair, crossing one leg over the other and resting his hands behind his head. 

Elle was seated on the bed, rolling up a few joints when she saw you. Her sultry eyes darted to you as she licked the paper. “Hey there, gorgeous. Samuel, you not going to offer our guests something to drink? Has my southern hospitality not rubbed off on you at all?” She slurred. 

“Shit, sorry.” Sam said, popping up from just sitting down. He made his way to the mini fridge and bar. “We have tequila, spiced rum, and vodka. And sprite and club soda and some type of weird juice.”

“You know what I want.” Jake said, brushing over his chin with his fingertips. Maybe he is anxious. 

“I’ll have the same.” You offered. “Thank you Sammy.” You plopped down on the bed next to Elle. 

“My pleasure, babe.” He said, winking over his shoulder. 

Jake turned the music back up a bit, and tapped his fingers on the arms of the chair. 

Sam brought you your drinks as Elle stood from the bed, presenting three perfectly rolled joints. “Who wants to do the honors?”

“Got a lighter?” You asked, taking one from her hands. Sam stood quickly, pulling one from his pocket, and handing it to you. He walked over to the large sliding door, opening it up to let the smoke out. A bit of fresh air blew through the room, bringing with it the smell of fried foods and the city. 

You lit the joint, taking a long hit and holding the smoke in. You leaned back on your arms, letting the THC do its work. You passed the joint to Elle as you exhaled, a big cloud of smoke falling from your lips as you coughed a little bit. Instant headrush, your favorite. 

She hit the joint next, following suit and passing it to Sam. “Thanks for coming back with us, we weren’t sure you were going to.” She said quietly under the music. 

“Why would you think that?” Jake added. 

“I dunno, thought I pissed you off earlier. You got awfully cutthroat, Jacob.” Elle replied. 

“Hm, I like a little competition. Little challenge sometimes.” He said, cracking his knuckles as Sam passed him the dwindling joint. “Seems as though you knew just what buttons to push, didn’t you?”

“Seems as though I did.” She said. 

He passed the joint back to you. “Well, it earned you something nice, though, didn’t it?” He said, taking his finger and swirling it in his drink as he exhaled. 

“That it did.” She said sternly, a devilish smirk finding her face. You exhaled the smoke back into the air, letting the high find you once again. Elle scooted closer to you on the bed, sliding her legs underneath her. You passed the joint to her as she took it from your fingers, taking one last giant hit. 

She motioned for you to come closer to her as she held the smoke in, and signaled for you to make a kissy face. You did as she asked, and she placed her hand on your cheek, slowly blowing the smoke directly into your mouth slowly as you inhaled it all. Her hand stayed on your face as you met her eyes, red and glassy and full of lust. You held the smoke for just a few seconds, getting the last bit of a high you were chasing so frantically. 

Once you exhaled, you felt her lips on yours again, this time a bit more relaxed. Your head began to spin, the entire world around you falling into nothingness. Her hand moved from your cheek to around the back of your neck, pulling you a bit closer. The kiss turned from a peck into something a little deeper, with a little more feeling behind it. 

You allowed your lips to part just slightly, letting the kiss move a bit more. You felt her tongue reach to brush your bottom lip before she pulled it back again. No, come back. You copied her motion, slightly bringing your tongue to graze against her lip. She tastes…so sweet…

You breathed a relaxed exhale as you parted slightly, catching her eyes as you both smiled. You dove back in, this time feeling confident. You positioned your body in such a way that you were leaning in toward her across your legs, giving yourself some purchase to reach your hand out and let your fingers play in her hair. Your heart was beating a million miles a minute, but you didn’t want to stop. 

Finally her tongue found yours, plunging into your mouth as she explored. God, you couldn’t get enough. As she pulled back, you let your body weight chase her, not wanting to disconnect. Both of your hands were on her face now, fingers gripping into her waves as she deepened the kiss, sitting up higher on her legs to tower over you. 

Keep going, Elle. 

You felt her fingertip tickle over your barren collarbone, down around to your chest, and trail right between your breasts. Her hand landed on your side, squeezing your hip as she stood on her knees above you. You let a hand leave her hair, finding a grip on her hip, and you pushed your fingers into her curves. You felt like you were floating on a bobber, getting sucked underwater every few seconds only to resurface to the air again. The pit of your stomach grew warm, and you wondered what she was going to do next. 

Her hands felt heavenly on you, without her having touched you much at all. They were small and dainty, but still comfortable and intriguing, a lot like Jake’s touch. 

Fuck. 

Jake. 

You had completely forgotten they were even in the room. Damnit. Well, they were getting a show. You began to slow the kiss a bit, feeling like it was heating up, but you needed to recenter. You pulled back a little, releasing your grip on her hip and face. She sat back down on her heels, smiling as she disconnected from you. 

“God…damnit, why did you fucking stop?” You heard Sam ask, his voice crackly and low. 

“Yeah, why did you…stop…” Jake added with the almost exact same tone of voice. 

You both laughed at the situation, bringing yourselves right back to your normal goofy selves, but still full of complete and utter attraction for each other. 

“I have an idea. Samuel, bring me that tequila bottle.” She snapped her fingers to him, and he jumped up like a trained puppy, grabbing the small bottle and placing it in her hand. 

“Y/N, how comfortable are you being topless?” Her words shocked you. 

“What? What do you mean?” You asked, eyes flitting across the room. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Jake yet, or Sam for that matter. 

“Topless. I can be too, if it makes you feel better.” She said. 

You thought on her words for a second. You obviously weren’t embarrassed in front of Jake, Sam had also seen every part of your body, and you and Elle had seen each other nude plenty of times, changing in front of each other over the years. 

“Um, I guess I’m okay with that. Yeah. Why not?” You said, shrugging it off. You truly felt comfortable, your drunkenness definitely lowering your inhibitions again. You reached for your drink on the table, taking a long swig. 

“Cool. Jake, is it okay with you if Sam and I see her topless?” Elle asked. “And me too, I guess?”

“As long as she’s fine with it, I don’t care.” You heard him mumble, sincerity in his voice. 

“Agreed.” Sam added. 

You nodded, slipping one shoulder free from the strap of your dress, letting it fall to your waist. You looked up to Elle who was still sitting with the bottle of tequila in her hand. You reached for the second strap, letting it fall to your side, too. This exposed your entire bare chest to three people who know you better than anyone, who have all seen more of you than this many times before, but this time, you felt extremely exposed. And you liked it. 

“You’re truly a sight, Y/N. I hope you know. Guys, isn’t she gorgeous?” Elle said sweetly. 

You heard Jake take a long exhale and reposition in the leather seat.

“Absolutely stunning.” Sam said. 

“Driving me wild, Y/N, just like you always do.” Jake’s hollow voice followed. Fuck, his voice. Here we go again. 

You felt your insides churn at their praises, and suddenly you felt all your caution leave your body. This was going to be fine. 

“My turn?” Elle asked, looking at all three of you before she slipped free of her top, exposing herself as well. 

“God, I’ve got competition…” you managed, giving the guys permission to comment as well. 

“Lie back, Y/N. Flat on the bed.” She instructed, and you did. Next she opened the bottle of tequila, pouring just a little bit into your belly button, and into the hollow of your throat. “Stay still, babe.” The tequila was cold, giving you instant goosebumps all over your body, effectively making your nipples stand at attention. 

She hopped off the bed, kneeling down on the floor beside you. She connected her mouth to your neck, sipping up all the liquor and swallowing before lightly trailing her tongue down the center of your torso, over your ribs, and straight to your navel, repeating the sip. 

She took a little more time here, allowing her lips to graze the sensitive skin around your navel. 

“Son of a bitch…” you heard Jake mumble, laughing quietly in astonishment. 

“No shit, you two are truly…” you glanced at Sam, watching him bury his face in his hands as he leaned forward. 

“Jake? A shot?” Elle piped up, more cheerful than you expected. 

“Yeah, definitely.” He responded, his voice sounding sleepy. 

Elle poured the liquor again. Here came Jake, your first eye contact with him since you made out with a woman in front of him. You felt him kneel beside you, catching his eyes as he did so. 

“Hey gorgeous, ready for body shots round two?” He asked. 

“Hell yes, baby. Let me see what you’ve got.” You played, trying not to move or spill the liquor. 

He threw his hair back into a low knot, not caring a bit how it looked, and reached his head down, sipping up the liquor from your throat, then trailing his mouth up your neck and to your ear. He let his face nuzzle in your tangled hair, breathing heavily as he did so. 

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy, baby…” he mumbled just loudly enough for you to hear, before nipping at your ear lobe. He then returned to your neck, trailing tiny kisses down your sternum toward your stomach. The chill bumps returned at his touch, your head spinning wondering what was in store from his beautiful brain. 

You felt one hand snake up and grasp your tit as his tongue met your bellybutton, swirling it around before connecting his lips and pulling the drink. His hand squeezed your breast, and you couldn’t help the tiny whimper that fell from your lips. Instant arousal. 

“Fuck, baby…” you breathed as he sat up and wiped his mouth free of the tiny dribbles. 

“Mmm, say that again…” he growled as he brought his lips to yours, soaked and stained with the strong taste of tequila. You giggled into his mouth. 

“Sam?” Elle offered, handing the bottle to him. The room went silent. “Not up to me, up to you guys. Just thought I’d open the door…” Elle went on. 

Jake sighed. “Just one.” 

Sam chuckled as he took the bottle, pouring the liquid into your navel, lifting the bottle high for a second and making the stream a few inches long. 

“Remember what I said about leftovers, Samuel.” You heard Jake quip. You normally would be offended, but you were too turned on to care. You were about to have Sam’s mouth on you again.

“We see how that worked out, don’t we Jake?” Sam spat back. 

Just then Sam grabbed both of your hands at your sides, and lowered himself onto the bed, perching to face you between your slightly parted legs. Both his hands held his weight on either side of you as he towered above, pinning your hands to your sides. Quickly, he caught your eyes with that look you knew so well. So damn well. 

He bent his elbows, bringing his mouth down low, running his tongue from between your breasts straight to your stomach. His tongue dipped inside your belly button, similarly to the way Jake’s just had, but instead he dug his teeth in a bit, slurping up the tequila, his eyes never once leaving yours. You couldn’t help the tiny arch in your back as he bit into your skin, your body reacting on its own accord. 

Fucking. Hell. 

“Sam…” Jake warned. 

Sam released your hands, sat up and cleaned his mouth off, resting on his knees between yours, a position you never thought you’d see yourselves in ever again. 

“What? Not my fault I remember all her sweet spots. I could show you a few sometime if you’re interested…” Sam said with a quick wink. 

Oh, he’s gonna pay for that one. 

“Just watch your fucking mouth, okay?” Jake warned, knowing that Sam was not paying any attention to him. 

“Alright alright…” Elle interrupted as Sam took his seat back in the chair. Elle came in front of you and grabbed your hands, helping you to sit up. “Open up, baby.” She tilted the bottle back, and poured the tequila into her mouth as you followed her instruction. 

She towered above you again as you tilted your head back, mouth wide open and ready to accept. She pursed her lips, letting the liquid fall in a steady stream from her mouth to yours, dripping a little bit onto your cheeks as she did so. You felt the warm liquor drip down your neck, sliding all the way down your throat and between your breasts. Your immediate reaction was to wipe it clean, but you decided to give the guys a little show, instead. 

You swallowed the tequila, the burn lighting your insides on fire. You took your finger, running it up your skin from where the drink had trailed, chasing it up and collecting it, before licking your finger clean of the remnants. 

You left your finger in your mouth for more than a few seconds, swirling your tongue around it until you found Elle’s gaze, leaving your eyes to stare into hers while you left your finger in your mouth. 

“Damn, Y/N, you really make this easy…” Elle complimented. “Ok, my turn.”

Elle layed back on the bed, her long curls falling over the side in lustrous waves. She handed you the bottle and you continued the theme of the activity, switching back and forth from her navel to her neck. 

You decided it was time to involve the guys. Your head was spinning even more so now, the tequila taking effect and the marijuana now buried deep in your bones. 

“Jake, come here.” You held your finger to him, signaling for him to come and join the festivities. “Take a shot from Elle.” 

“Don’t have to ask me twice.” He relayed, filling her navel with the chilled liquid. He licked his lips before he lowered his head, connecting his mouth to her. She shuddered at his touch, her hand instantly finding his hair as he moved his lips against her. Uh oh, he loved that. It seemed to spur him on, as he slowly ghosted his tongue down to her side, using his teeth to nip at her love handles. 

Elle let out a breathy laugh, showing that she enjoyed it, maybe a little too much. “Jake…biting is my thing…” she said, as either a warning or an invitation. You were fine with the latter. 

“Is that right?” He said, voice gravelly. His eyes shot to yours, then to Sam’s. You saw Sam shrug one shoulder to his side, telling him to go ahead. He continued his tiny love bites, up her side under her arm, onto her shoulder and onto her neck. He leaned his weight to hover above her, the visual of him with his mouth on her making you squirm. 

He went slowly, taking his time as he moved higher, letting his tongue reach out and taste her every so often. God, you were going to dream about this for months. He was in the crook of her neck now, slowly and sensually lying tiny bites right below her ear. His tongue slid tactfully out, leaving a tiny wet trail. You watched as her eyes rolled back and closed, fluttering open and shut as he spoke into her ear. You couldn’t hear what he said, but you could have probably guessed. 

Suddenly you felt Sam’s hand on your upper thigh, squeezing his fingers lightly and ghosting his fingertips as he watched them. Elle let out another breathy giggle, inhaling sharply as he brought his kisses to her jawline, moving closer and closer to her mouth. 

“Sam, Y/N…?” He said without looking to either of you, his mouth hovering directly above hers. You and Sam simultaneously gave him permission, and his lips connected to hers in a fury. You watched as your boyfriend kissed her, slowly at first, just exploring…her hand finding his hair once again. Sam’s hand continued to squeeze your leg, moving dangerously closer in toward your heat as his body inched closer to yours. 

Elle’s hand shot up to cup Jake’s neck, pulling him closer into her. His tongue grazed her lips as the kiss deepened. You felt yourself getting extremely aroused, and felt Sam’s mouth pressed against the back of your shoulder. Another one of your sweet spots. He just kept fucking remembering them. His mouth opened wider on your back, laying hot and wet kisses to the back of your neck now. Fuck, Sam. Stop remembering. 

His hand gripped your thigh, pulling your leg apart from the other as you rolled your head, the combination of his mouth and hand on you making you go crazy. 

Elle’s leg bent at the knee, pulling Jake to lie more closely on top of her. She was enjoying him. And you didn’t care. How could you blame her?

“Careful over there, Jake. Don’t get too carried away.” Sam said, disconnecting his mouth from you for a second. 

“Shut the fuck up, Sam.” He quipped back. 

“With pleasure, brother.” Suddenly Sam grabbed your chin and turned your face to meet his. “I still love pumpkin…”

His kiss. His mouth…your head was spinning, flying off your shoulders like a boomerang into the sky. Every nerve ending, on fire. Your heart was racing, feeling his lips on yours again, his touch…you could hardly form a coherent thought, much less take a second to recognize what was happening. All you could feel was him. Your Sam. Kissing you again. You felt like fireworks were going off in the room, in your head and in your body…insane amounts of excitement filling you to the brim. 

Your brow furrowed as you leaned into him, kissing him back with more unhinged passion than you probably should have in this instance. You knew you had to hold back, but god, you didn’t want to. 

You pulled away, completely flustered and ready, looking directly at him. His eyes were blown out with lust, his hand still buried deep in your thigh muscle, squeezing and massaging as you fought yourself from jumping into him again. 

You slowly shook your head ‘no’, the look on his face like he could devour you right then and there. God damnit, Sam. 

Jake pulled away from Elle soon thereafter, sitting back on the bed, his shirt all the way unbuttoned now, instead of his normal two-button style. Elle must have done that. 

“Shit, Jacob. Maybe we should argue more often, if it’s gonna end up like that.” Elle breathed as she sat back up, hair and appearance a mess. “Y/N, come back to me.” 

You did as she told you, fully entranced by the air in the room, making you feel vulnerable and uninhibited. You crawled her way, letting your mouth find hers again, with Sam still at your back and Jake by your sides. You heard their noises of some type of carnal attraction, speaking little sounds and whispers as they watched the show unfold. But it wasn’t a show, you truly did enjoy making out with Elle. And you weren’t ashamed of it. 

After a few seconds she pulled back. “God, now I understand what you guys meant…she’s absolutely delicious. You’re so tasty, Y/N.” Elle purred, making you feel like you could collapse. 

“Thank you, Elle. You’re fuckin sweet, yourself…” you answered honestly, blushing. 

“I couldn’t agree more…” Sam said quietly. 

“Baby, come here. Come sit with me.” Elle asked of Sam. He moved from behind you on the bed, joining Elle as she began pulling at the hem of his shirt, pulling it above his head and tossing it to the floor. “It’s getting a little warm in here. Thought you might need to cool off some.” 

“The one thing I don’t need to do is cool off…” he kissed her hard, both hands tangling in her hair as they kissed, heating up the scene exponentially. Sam always had his own way of making things so much hotter than they actually were…

You felt Elle’s hand on you as she kissed Sam, pulling you their way. You glanced to Jake, and he raised an eyebrow, silently saying you could make your own decision. 

You took it as an OK, shifting your weight toward them as her hand began tickling over your chest. She pulled away, letting Sam kiss her neck while she looked at you, a devious stare as she cupped her hand around your breast, making you feel something that you’ve never felt before. You let her massage as she held eye contact with you. 

“Christ…” Jake mumbled from beside you. 

Instantly, Sam’s hand was on top of Elle’s, letting her guide their hands as she began to feel all over your body, sometimes gently and sometimes rough. Finding your favorite pressure points and concentrating on them, squeezing your nipples and digging nails into your hips. After a few seconds, you realized that it wasn’t Elle’s hand doing the guiding at all, it was Sam’s. He knew exactly where to touch you to make you go crazy.

Suddenly Jake was on his knees behind Elle, leaning down to whisper in her ear, most likely the same thing he had said to her earlier, something to drive her crazy. Her eyes rolled back again, and her hand disconnected from Sam’s. 

“Babe, can I…touch you?” Elle asked you, the same devilish look pasted across her face. Jake’s face was directly beside hers, the same wicked look of intrigue, looking as though he wanted you to say yes. 

You nodded, slowly, deciding that you were in this deep, might as well take the next step. “Say it out loud, hun. Tell me.” She went on, asking your permission. 

“Yes. You can touch me.” You answered. 

“Jake…?” She asked next. 

“Fuck yeah….” Of course. 

You laid back a bit, not quite sure what to do. This territory was still very much uncharted. “It’s okay, love. Don’t be nervous. Just gonna make you feel good…” Elle went on. 

You relaxed on the pillows, letting one leg bend at the knee, the flowy skirt of your dress falling toward your upper thigh. She gingerly drifted her fingertips up your legs, inching closer toward your center. Your breathing began to pick up a bit as you became more anxious, the nerves finding their way back. This is so strange…but so good…

Her hand pulled the skirt up and she covered your heat with her palm, her touch soft and gentle, much different than what you were used to. Her hand glided slowly, back and forth, side to side overtop of your panties. You realized you had closed your eyes tight, still a bit self conscious of what was happening. She’s your best friend in the world…everything is fine…just let yourself feel it…

You let your eyes open, seeing the three of them watching you intently, the same look on all their faces. One that you absolutely couldn’t describe even if your life depended on it. But it was good. It was so good.

Elle’s hand dipped into your underwear, taking her sweet time as you allowed her to explore you. You felt like you might explode, her touch so intricate and concentrated, even given how drunk you both were. It was madness, how much you felt, how turned on you were…you let your legs separate a bit as she went a little deeper, finding your clit and giving it special attention. 

“Fuck…” Jake growled.

You couldn’t help the reaction your body was giving, your back arched and your hands found your tits, pulling and squeezing them as her hand felt you. “God Elle, yeah…” you breathed. You felt yourself beginning to rush to the peak, the edge of the cliff just within reach. Suddenly your mind snapped to another place. 

“Don’t wanna cum, Elle. I don’t…” you said. 

“You don’t? You don’t have to, hun.” She said, slowing her movement. 

“Not fair to everyone else if I’m the only one who gets to…” you said, earning a little giggle from everyone. 

“Aww, so considerate, Y/N. You’re sweet. But I’ll get mine…” Elle said, looking over to Jake. 

“But god, I don’t want you to stop…” you laughed as she continued gliding her fingers over you. 

She smiled a knowing smile. “I don’t want to stop.” 

You sat up as she removed her hand, giving you a tiny wink as she sat back. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything as hot as what I saw just now…” Sam said flatly, he and Jake’s expressions both full of wild lust. Jake wiped his hand across his face, recollecting himself. 

“Mmm, it was hot, wasn’t it? Come here, Sam.” You let the words fall from your mouth before you could stop them, wanting to continue the madness. He glanced to Jake, but found Elle already walking toward him, trailing her fingers along Jake’s jawline. 

Sam took that as an ok, and followed your command, crawling over to you, placing his lips directly on yours again. You weren’t sure how this happened, how you’d ended up completely swapping, but you were enraptured in Sam’s touch right now. His hands trailed up and down you, your hand buried deep behind his neck as his tongue explored your mouth, truly tasting you again for the first time in so long. Your drunken lust was amplified, damn him for being so inebriating to you. 

You glanced behind him, seeing Elle half straddled across Jake’s lap, engaging in the same activity you and Sam were. Wow. This is…insane. 

The room air was heady now, the four of you jumbled into a mess of hands and bad decisions, thick with want and desire and attraction…you never wanted it to end. In an act of weakness, you let your hand brush against Sam’s dick, making him groan quietly into your mouth. 

“Fucking watch it, little one…” he whispered. “You’ll make me do something I regret…”

“This place is already full of regret, haven’t you noticed?” You grinned, letting your hand brush by him again. Damnit, Y/N. Slow down. But you couldn’t help yourself. Sam held some type of nefarious power over you, something you were drawn to in the worst way, one that destroyed you with every passing second. 

He hissed through his teeth, clenching his jaw and closing his eyes as he mentally tried to break away. 

“You still…taste so fucking good…” he mouthed, very quietly. “I don’t think I will ever get over it…”

Shut up, Sam…

“Did Elle treat you right? Make you feel good?” He asked, as you nodded. 

“She made me feel so good…but not as good as you used to…” you breathed into his ear, causing his body to stiffen. 

All of a sudden Jake’s hand was on your leg, his fingertips in your thigh, bringing you back down to earth. 

“Baby, you still good over there?” You heard him ask from behind Sam. 

“Great, baby, you okay?” You responded. 

“Mmmhmm…excellent actually…” you glanced again, Elle completely straddled across his lap, his hand grasping her ass as she hid her head in the crook of his neck whispering to him unintelligibly. You could hear the low growl of his voice, but couldn't make out the words over the sound of the music and the thrum of the blood rushing through your head.

You smiled as he looked over to you, giving you a sweet wink. Where on earth had you found yourselves? Sam looked behind him as well, seeing them in the unholy position. He looked back to you, shrugging his shoulders, and pulling you closer.

You went on this way for a bit, letting Sam’s hands and tongue explore you again, completely not caring for what Jake and Elle were doing at the end of the bed. At one point you felt Jake lie back on his elbows, letting out a guttural moan as Elle must have done something to set him off. You turned your head and watched as he whispered something into her ear again and as she pulled back from him you heard her ask him, voice full of lust, “You promise?”

He hummed in agreement and you looked away quickly before either of them had a chance to notice that you were listening. Your brain began to swirl with thoughts, and part of you felt like ending everything there. Getting up right now and dragging him back to your room. But the warm hands wrapped around your waist drew you back in, reminding you that you were most likely having the exact same thoughts.

“Feeling good over there, brother?” Sam asked. 

“Ha ha, sure as fuck am…she is…” he trailed off as Elle’s mouth cut his words. 

You smiled into Sam’s kiss again, torn up and twisted in your passionate draw to him, coming full-circle in an act that you never ever thought you’d find yourself performing again. 

The whispers filled the room again, and you found yourself trying to listen, but again no luck.

Looking over to Jake and Elle you watched her say something, causing Jake to toss his head back, “Jesus fuck, Elle…”

You weren’t sure what was happening, but he didn’t tell her to stop.

Sam suddenly stopped his actions, bringing his eyes to look deeply into yours, speaking a thousand words in the span of five seconds, telling you everything you already knew, and that it was still true. 

“I know, Sam. I know.” You whispered. 

He laid his head down beside yours with a thud, his mouth directly beside your ear. “I swear to god, I wish…I had…a time machine…” he whispered, making your insides wrench, twisting your heart into a million shreds. His fingers wiped a few stray hairs from your face, the tender touch making you want to cry. 

“Well, we don’t have one, so you better make this count while you can.” You suggested, leaning your mouth closely to his lips, connecting them again. What you felt in Sam’s kiss was undoubtedly something else, something rooted so deeply that you could hardly fathom it. A feeling that was created millennia ago, when we were nothing but stardust, the cosmos creating us out of nothing but the sands of time. 

Love. 

Pure, infatuating, implanted and ingrained into the soul of every living being. And you felt it, wholeheartedly, with Sam. Just like you had all those years ago, and a few times here and there since. 

But the strange and cruel part of it all was that you also felt it with Jake. The exact…same…feeling. 

You looked behind Sam to find Jake’s head arched back, Elle going crazy in doing everything she could except sexing him. Shit, you found yourself thinking dark thoughts…Is that something you felt like you could watch? In the moment, you thought you could. It would be an absolutely insane visual, both of them so ethereally gorgeous, unhinged and writhing with each other…

You perked up again, Sam standing up to grab his drink. Elle removed herself from Jake, taking his hand to sit him back up. 

“Enjoying my girlfriend, Jake?” Sam spat, sipping from the edge of his cup. 

“You enjoying mine?” He quipped back. 

“Mhm, seems mutual.” Sam said. 

“Definitely mutual…” he growled.

You watched as Jake’s eyes traveled to Elle, standing with her hands behind her back leaned against the table, in nothing but her tight black skirt. You realized that she was just straddling Jake; he had to have seen a bit more than he thought he would. His gaze was sultry, and he bit his lip as she smiled shyly. He was very…very into her. How could he not be? 

“How are you feeling, ladies? Doing okay? Anyone need a drink?” Sam asked, keeping up the role of the host. 

“I’m good, thanks.” You answered as Jake came and sat beside you on the bed, the straps of your dress still hanging low around you. 

“Enjoying yourself, love?” You asked him, smoothing his tousled hair. 

He glanced back to Elle as she spoke closely with Sam. “Yes, very much so…she’s really, coming on strong.”

“Mhmm, I can tell. I think she’s really into you, Jake.” You said, putting a finger to his shoulder. 

“I think she is, too…” he said, falling into a shy grin. 

“Do you want her? Is all of… this…going where I think it’s going?” You asked. 

“What do you mean babe…I…” he looked to you, puzzled. 

“Do you wanna fuck her, Jake?” His face was full of surprise at your inquiry. 

“What? No, baby. What do you mean? No…” you could tell his face absolutely flushed at your words, and he stumbled to find the right ones of his own.

“Jake. You don’t have to lie…I can tell you’re into her, too…shit, look at her…I would be. I can see whatever is happening between you two…I’m not mad baby…” you trailed off, thinking hard about the subject. 

“Why? Do you want to fuck him?” he asks.

“Answer me, and I’ll answer you…” you pressed.

“Fine. Yeah I want to fuck her. I want to fuck her, badly. But you know you’re my girl.” he answers, looking over your shoulder at her.

“What if we….what about a free pass, babe… If that’s what you want…go for it. I trust you, I trust Elle. Asking Sam, that’s another story, but. I promise you, it’s not something that would make me mad, look at us. Look what we’re doing right now…” you motioned around. 

“At this point…” you shrugged, for some reason, somehow or another, you felt as though you could truly let him do this. One time, if it’s what he wanted. You could both have what you wanted. “It’s just sex, babe…I want you to feel good.” you continued.

He brought his eyes back to you, an answer hanging on the tip of his tongue as his eyes flicked to her, then over to Sam. He was considering it, the alcohol helping his decision. 

Yes or no?

“Maybe just–” he was cut off, snapping his head to his phone ringing loudly on the table.

“Who the fuck? Couldn’t have picked a worse time…” he paused, picking it up, “Of course it’s fucking Josh.”

“Hello?” he answered angrily.

“You’re where?” 

“Are you ok, are you with Danny?” he asks.

“What do you mean you don’t know where you are? How the hell did you…?”

“You fuckers got too drunk, didn’t you? No, I won’t come find you! What-where is Daniel?”

“What do you mean you can’t find him? Why did you separate anyway?”

“No, absolutely not. I’m fucking busy, Josh. I can’t come down there.”

“None of your business…” 

“No…Can you please just…”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily. 

“Fuck, fine… I’ll come find you, you damn idiots. Don’t go anywhere, just stay there. I’ll call you when I get downstairs.” he snaps.

He hung up the phone. “Goddamnit, I can never have a single second for myself.” He complained. 

“Are they okay?” Sam asked, turning the music down. 

“They’re fine, I think. Josh got too drunk and twisted around trying to find Danny. Lost him. Said he’s been searching forever.” He answered, looking over to Elle.

“You ready babe? I’ll walk you back to our room first.” He says. 

“Wait! She doesn’t have to go, does she?” Elle chimes in. 

Jake pauses, looking over to you, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Uhh, I don’t suppose so…Baby? Do you… wanna stay? Without me?” He looked to you. 

You bit your lip, and nodded. You didn’t want to leave. 

Jake sighed heavily. “Okay, I don’t like this, but I guess…if you want to stay…”

He bent down to kiss your lips. “God, right when things were getting really fun…I’ll be back baby. Behave, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too, Jake.” You murmured. “Be careful.”

He nodded in agreement but before he left, he leaned over and whispered into your ear, “Remember who you belong to…”

He stepped back and turned to Sam, poking a finger into his barren chest, silently warning him to not cross the line in his absence. 

“I’ll be back, soon hopefully.” Jake walked out, letting the door slam behind him. 

“Mmm…Now we can have some real fun…We have her all to ourselves baby…” Elle breathed. 

Just like that it was the three of you. Left wanting and waiting, and wondering where exactly that line was drawn.

—

The festivities resumed, just as they had begun. Except this time, you felt less pressured to hold back, letting yourself focus your attention a little better. Letting yourself feel a little more…a thrashing mess of the three of you wound up and not thinking, the alcohol seeping into your brains, lowering any standards you may have had. 

Your mind and body were flowing separately but all together at the same time…hot, heavy, wasted and untamed…and you were living for every second of it. 

Still, in the back of your mind, you wondered what Jake’s answer would have been if Josh hadn’t called. Though you were certain you knew. You could see the look in his eye. 

At one point, you let your hand slide down the curve of Elle’s body, and you felt her shiver and pull back. 

“You okay baby?” Sam asks, putting his hand on her suddenly clammy face. 

She shifts back a bit, swallowing heavily as she runs her hand over her face, “No…I…I’ll be right back.” she says, standing up and sprinting to the bathroom.

“Fuck, is she okay?” you ask, nervously.

Sam sighs, and spins to stand from the bed. “No, she hit her limit before we ever left the bar. The tequila was a bad idea. I’ll be right back.” he says, letting his hand ghost over your cheek, swiping over your bottom lip. 

His eyes break away from yours as he makes his way to the bathroom, leaving you sitting on the disheveled sheets of the bed. Understanding that the fun was more than likely over, you pull the straps of your dress back over your shoulders, and stand up from the bed. 

Looking over the room you spot your clutch and fish for your phone, and any word from Jake, but as you pull your phone out you see nothing and toss it back inside. You make your way over to the sliding door and stare out onto the strip, marveling at the colorful lights and flashing signs. 

You let your mind wander as you let the incomprehensible feelings swirl through your body. As much as you loved Jake, why did your few moments with Sam feel like so much more than they should?

You shake the thoughts from your mind as you hear the two of them coming out of the bathroom. Sam pulls Elle’s dress from her body and slides his t-shirt over her slender frame. Your breath catches in your throat, catching such a sweet and tender moment between the two of them. Something you remember Sam doing with you, time and time again. 

You look away as you hear him tuck her into the bed, whispering into her ear. You make your way back to the dresser, gathering your clutch and heels and making your way to the side of the bed. 

“I hope you feel better Elle, I had fun with you tonight.” You say, leaning down to kiss her forehead. 

Before she can even respond her eyes are closing, and Sam is tossing you a smirk.

You start to make your way to the door, and Sam catches your hand. “Let me walk you back. I want to go smoke anyway.”

“Shouldn’t you stay with her?” You ask. 

“She got sick, I think she should be okay now. Said she just wanted to sleep.” He responded. 

You nod your head, and put your shoes back on as he redresses himself and grabs his room key. Seconds later he is whisking you through the door and towards the elevators. 

“What floor are you on?” he asks. “Actually, do you… want to come smoke with me?”

You turn to catch his gaze, knowing full well he just doesn’t want to leave you yet. 

“Sure Sammy.” you say, looping your arm with his.

He presses the button for the rooftop terrace and after a few minutes the doors are opening, depositing you at the windy rooftop bar. There are very few people around, considering that it's nearly three in the morning, the bar starting to close down. 

Sam pulls you out of the elevator, hand in hand as he tries to find a place for the two of you to stand and smoke.

Around a corner, the wall blocks the harsh wind, giving him his best chance of lighting his cigarette. With a flick of his zippo, the tip of the cigarette glows to life, a stream of smoke blowing from his lips.

He offers it to you but you decline, knowing that the rush of nicotine is the last thing you need in your system.

“You know, you never let me fully apologize for the role I played in the whole Andy thing. I need you to know I’m sorry. More sorry than I have ever been for anything in my life.” he says, taking a pull from the cigarette between his fingers, gazing out onto the strip. 

“I know you are Sammy. I forgive you. It’s done and over now. I was hurt and sad, but I am moving past it. I’m not letting him have control of my emotions anymore. Breaking my relationships with the people I loved is what he got off on. I’m not letting him do that anymore. I know you’d never hurt me. Ever. You all thought you were doing the right thing.” you reply.

He grabs your hand and squeezes it tight, acknowledging your forgiveness, and cementing the words into his mind. It’s quiet for a few minutes, and you can feel his gaze on you as you stare out onto the busy street. 

“I kind of wondered what would happen…” he trails off, looking out into the desert. 

“Just now? With Elle?” you ask, leaning your back to the railing. 

“No. With you and me. After some time…after we were both settled, so to speak. If the flame would still be there.” he admits.

“Oh…” you say.

He takes another drag from his cigarette, his hair blowing gently in the wind. 

“You know what I think?” you ask.

He turns to look at you, eyes dark and piercing even in the dead of the night. He raises an eyebrow.

“I think that you and I both know the flame will never burn out completely. Even if we both want it to. An eternal flame…” you say, trailing off. 

“Do we both want it to?” he asks, resting his hip on the rail as he faces you. 

“I think we need it to…” you answer, as he nods his head. 

“Tonight was…” you start, shaking your head struggling to find the words to say.

“Amazing? Cruel…” he finishes, reaching his hand to your hip, letting his fingers grip into your side. “To have you so close…but still just out of reach. Jake, watching my every move, like I didn’t ruin you a hundred times over right under his nose…”

You swallow harshly, knowing the exact feeling he was talking about. You knew that no matter what could have transpired tonight, it would only be a brief glimpse of what you knew he was capable of.

“What would have happened if Elle never came back?” he asks.

“Sam…” you whine, feeling his grip pull you closer to him.

“Do you ever think about it?” he asks, tamping out his cigarette.

“I don’t know.” you answer.

“Yes you do.” he says, sliding his hand up to rest at your neck, letting his thumb dig into your skin. He always did remember those special points of your body. You groaned at the sensation of his hands on you, away from prying eyes.

“I think… we would have continued doing whatever it was we were doing. I think Nashville wouldn’t have been the last time. Not by a long shot.” you answer.

“No. It wouldn’t have. Fuck, I… I would have done things so differently…I know I sound like a broken record but, I had no idea it would be the last time.” he pauses, “But then tonight…”

You nod your head as you bring your face closer to his, letting your hands rest on his arms. “Tonight…”

“Fuck…” he exhales a shaky breath, “Tonight, yesterday, every day before that, fuck Y/N…”

“What, Sammy…” you say, your lips barely ghosting over his.

“I’ll never stop.” he says, his lips grazing yours.

“Stop what?” you breathe.

“Wanting you just one more time…” he whispers.

“So don’t.” you reply, feeling his lips, cold and wet press to yours. 

The electricity zapped from your toes up through your body, a whimper leaving your throat as his tongue slid across your lips. His hands pulled you closer into him, feeling his bulge press into your stomach. Your hand slid under his shirt, and you were met with the soft warmth of his skin. His lips felt different away from Jake and Elle. Like he was the gravity holding you down to Earth, keeping you from floating away into the cosmos. His hand wound into your hair, pulling your mouth closer to his as his lips reacquainted with yours.

He inhaled a shaky breath, almost as if the contact was bringing him to tears. You peeped your eyes open to see his eyebrows furrowed, kissing you with so much intention you felt dizzy. So you returned it. You let your nails dig into his sides under his shirt, dragging them around to his front, making him physically shudder. Finally, you brought your hands back up to cup his face, pulling yourself away to catch him in a look so devastatingly intense that you felt like you might disintegrate. You were almost in tears yourself. 

His lips plush and pink, still stained with the pressure of trying to consume as much of you as he could, while he could, he blinked rapidly, honestly probably fighting back tears that you knew were also threatening you, too. He clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils, swallowing hard. 

“Y/N, I swear on my life…there will never…” he shook his head slowly, unable to find the words as he held your head steady. He breathed again. 

“You don’t need to say it, Sammy.” You whispered. “I know. I’ve known for years and years…” 

He let a laugh fall from his throat as he tilted his head back, eyes sparkling with tears he just wouldn’t let fall. 

“And what about you, huh?” His eyebrows raised. You knew what he was asking. 

You looked to the ground, searching for some way, any way to tell him, without telling him. 

So instead of speaking, you simply smiled. A wide, toothy and genuine smile that stretched from ear to ear, making you fall into a fit of shyness…nodding your head and pushing back tears. 

He returned your smile. “That’s all I needed, babe. That’s all I needed.” You let a singular tear finally crawl down your cheek, and before you could catch it, Sam’s lips caught it, kissing it away. 

He rested his forehead to yours, bringing you in for a final embrace. “Happy tears, lover. Always happy tears.” 

Your phone buzzing in your clutch pulled you back down to earth, the realization hitting you of what had just occurred. 

You pulled away quickly, grabbing your phone from your bag, seeing a text from Jake.

3:08 am

Jake: I found them. Taking Josh and Danny back to their rooms. Coming for you next. Going to finish what I started…

You let out the breath you were holding, and looked to Sam. 

“I know…” he says, nodding his head in defeat. “I’ll take you back. Thanks for coming up here with me. For this.”

“Sam, we…” you start, but his finger presses to your lips, stopping the words from escaping.

“Let’s go.” he says, sliding his finger down your arm, and lacing his fingers with yours. 

—

“What floor are you on?” Sam asked as you approached the elevator doors. 

“Eight. Room 801.” You responded as the doors opened, and you pulled the room key from your bag. The two of you stood in silence as the elevator ascended, way too quickly for your drunken state to handle. 

The doors opened and you headed down the hall, hands brushing by one another as you walked. 

“I had a…really good time tonight, Sam. I wish…we could have made it last just a bit longer.” You said quietly as you approached the door. 

“I had a great time, too. Never thought I’d get to be with you like that again. Ever.” He said, inching closer to you. 

“Mm, me neither. It was… a very welcome surprise.” You breathed, his mouth close to yours again. You could feel the tension growing again, threatening to break with every passing second. It was taking everything in you not to push him against the wall, run your hands all over his body, bury your tongue deep in his mouth…and let all the dirty thoughts explode from yours. 

His lips were within centimeters of yours, his nose brushing against your cheek as you fought to keep your breath steady. Your eyes began watering at the situation, the draw so strong you could faint. 

“Goodnight, lover…” he whispered, words hot on your lips as he pulled away, leaving you a heaving mess of winded breaths. You watched as he walked quickly down the hall back the opposite way you came, toward the stairwell. Strange. Maybe he needed to walk. 

As he approached the door, he turned to look at you, giving you one last longing glance before pushing through it. 

You stood for a second. Looking at the door of your hotel room, and then back to the stairwell. A thousand memories replaying in your mind in a flash of noise and color.

Fuck. 

Before you could stop yourself, you were rushing down the hallway, not looking back. Your legs carrying you faster than you could think as you ran to the door, busting through it into the dark, shadowy stairwell. 

You found him there, leaned against the brick wall running his hands through his hair. You stood before him as his eyes found yours, chest heaving up and down with his labored breaths. You watched as his breath caught in his throat, face riddled with shock. 

“You fucking came…”

Suddenly his hands were on you, pushing you against the wall with force. His mouth instantly connected with yours as he wound his hands into your hair. 

You kissed him back, hard, violently searching for something you didn’t know you were still looking for. Something you wished away. Something that no matter how hard you tried to deny, would always be there.

He growled with anticipation, grabbing your hand and locking his fingers with yours, trailing your hands between you, forcing you to feel his erection. 

“You feel that, baby? You did that. You’ve been doing that to me all night…” you squeezed him hard through his jeans, cupping him just so that his muscles softened, a whine falling from his beautiful pink lips. 

In a flurry, you unbuckled his belt, button, and zipper, forcefully pulling him free of his confines, taking his dick fully in your hand, already pulsing. 

“God Sam you’re so hard already, what is it you want? What have you been thinking about?” You breathed, all coherent thoughts flying out the window as you let your animalistic instincts take over, beginning to move your hand up and down him quickly. 

“Shiiit baby, you. I’ve been thinking about you, fucking you, making love to you like we used to…miss it so bad, Y/N…” he whispered. 

You quickened your movements on him as he kissed you hard again, hiking your leg up over his hip, your panties absolutely drenched from want. He held your leg up with one hand, pressing himself against you. You swore you could orgasm right then and there, the feeling of his bare skin pressed against you again. Your whimpers carried out quietly through the echoey stairwell as Sam brought his hand to your center, threatening to touch you in the place that for the longest time, belonged to him. 

“Mmm, still get wet for me, baby? Let me see…” 

His fingers found your folds, tracing along the insides as he maneuvered them perfectly, quickly shaking them as he glided up your wetness. 

“Just as I thought, fucking soaked. For me, babe?” He asked. 

“A little bit for your girlfriend, but…” you teased. 

“Shut the hell up.” He laughed, shaking his head. His beautiful, adorable, sweet laugh. 

You pushed your lower half in toward him again, searching for any type of contact as he continued assaulting you with his fingers. Your hand had released him; he was gliding himself in between your folds now, feeling your warmth on him. 

“God damnit, you feel so fucking amazing, and I haven’t even…” his breath caught as you connected your mouth to his throat. 

“I fucking want you, Y/N, so bad I can hardly breathe…I literally can’t stop it….” He went on. 

You felt like another person, floating above watching yourself in the position you found yourself in. So bad, so wrong. Fuck. 

Sam’s hand was around your neck, his fingers on your pressure points as he pressed his dick against your bundle of nerves, making you gush with arousal. 

You whined hard at the feeling. “Fuck me then, Sam. Do it. Like you used to. Fill me up, I need it. I need to feel you again…” someone else was speaking through your mouth, this horrible, detrimental decision already weighing hard on you, but you needed Sam so badly right now, you surely would cease to exist if you didn’t have him. 

Just then he lifted your leg higher, and pressed into you, gently at first, then all the way in to the hilt. The noises that escaped both of your lips were filthy, foul and obscene…your mouth hung slack as you fought to catch your breath, the feeling of him inside you again climbing to the very top of your list. 

“Jesus Christ, Sam, don’t fucking stop…” you sounded pornographic in your words, the sounds you both whined echoing and bouncing off the walls. But you couldn’t care less. He pulled in and out of you at a pace that could kill you, long and languid strokes, already hitting your G-spot with ease. 

“You’re fucking beautiful, Y/N, so perfect, god I missed you, so bad…” he grunted, fighting for his life as he pressed you harder against the wall, cutting off your air supply in the most beautiful way. 

“Sammy…” you whined into his neck, pulling him in closer to you. Arching your back off the wall in an attempt to take him further. Suddenly he pulls out of you, and you hiss with the loss of contact.

“Turn around, put your hands on the wall.” he instructs, spinning you away from him, and lifting your dress.

His arm comes around to your front, and gathers your slick rubbing tight circles over your clit as you feel him press into you from this new angle. 

“Fuck me. I swear to god you feel better than I even remember.” he groans, grabbing a handful of your ass as he pounds into you. You wince as his fingers press into your bruised skin.

“Shit, baby, are you okay?” he asks, feeling you cringe against him, and you look over your shoulder to tell him to continue, but you watch as his eyes take in the state of your backside littered with tiny red bruises. 

“What is this? What is this from?” he asks, continuing to fuck into you at a slower pace. 

“Last night. Jake…He was a little jealous.” you pant out. 

“What at the piano? So he put his hands on you?” he asks, a tinge of anger in his voice.

“No. Not his hands anyways… I asked him to. I wanted it. Just forget it Sammy. He’s not here. You are. You and me.” you plead.

“If he did that for last night, what’s he gonna do about this?” he says, plunging into you with more force.

“Fuck…I don’t know. Kill us both… He’s never going to know. This is it. The last time…” you whine. “Shit Sam… you feel so fucking good…”

“You’re right. The last time…” he says, pounding into you, the loud smack of your bodies echoing through the stairwell.

“Turn around. I want to see your face when I make you cum.” he growls.

“Let’s see if you still can.” you say playfully.

“Don’t fucking test me, baby.” he says as you turn back around, pressing your back to the cold brick wall.

He grabs both of your legs and pulls them to rest around his waist as he re-enters you, a moan drifting into the air. 

“Goddamnit, how am I supposed to fucking live without this?” he grunts.

You arch into him as he hits your g-spot, and you tense around him. 

“Squeeze me like that again, gonna memorize the way your pussy feels around me.” he says, fucking up into you harder.

“I’m…I’m close Sam…I’m…” you stammer.

“I know, I know you are. I fucking know you are, I can feel you. Want you to cum lover, want you to fucking soak me while I ruin you.” he says, his words pushing you over the ledge. His lips connect to your throat, licking and nipping and biting your skin as you pulse around him, the high you’d be chasing for so long finally within reach.

“Let go. Tell me who fucks you like this while you do it. Say it. Say my name as you cum baby.” he praises.

“You! You do Sam, fuck! You do!” you cry, letting his name fall from your lips over and over as the high takes over your body, squeezing him inside of you with everything you’ve got. 

“I’m not gonna last much longer, I’ve fought it too long already.” he pants, slipping in and out of you with precision.

“Cum for me Sammy. Fucking fill me. Want to feel you everywhere.” you whisper against his lips.

A door opening below you, snaps the two of you from your trance, both of you immediately going silent.

“Y/N?” you hear Jake’s voice echo through the empty stairwell just a few floors below you. 

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Jake. 

What have you done?

Sam slaps his hand across your mouth to stifle the sob ready to spill from your chest, causing you to clench around him. 

Seconds later you hear the door slam closed, and Sam removes his hand. “We have seconds… and I want every last one.”

You let your lips crash to his as his hips snap into you one more time, “I need you Y/N. Need this. I always will…” and with that, you feel him spill into you, the warm sensation collecting inside of you, as his moans drift directly into your ear. You close your eyes and for just a moment you let the outside world fade away. He buries his face into your neck as he cums, holding you tightly against him.

When his grip on you loosens you let your legs drop to the floor as he pulls out. He reaches between you to pull your panties back where they belong, effectively catching the release ready to spill out of you at any second. 

A sick feeling creeps into your stomach as you fix your dress, “Sam, I–” you start.

“I know. Fuck, I know. Go, quickly. Get straight into the shower. Don’t stop for anything. If you see him it’ll be too late.” he says, smoothing his sweaty hair away from his neck.

You turn to walk to the door, and just as you twist the handle, Sam’s hand catches yours. Your eyes flick to his, meeting his deep brown eyes for just a moment as he speaks, “I’ll never stop loving you, Y/N.” 

Your fingertips glide over his as you slide out the door, and away from Sam for the last time.

—

SAM POV

The walk back to your room felt like it took one hundred years, pacing up and down hallways, losing track of which floor you were on, the elevators being at opposite ends of the hotel…your mind was racing and your bearings were lost, you had fucked up. Royally. 

What the hell were you thinking? That this would just be okay? No. It wasn’t okay. It was bewildering. Breathtaking, the most high-end and insane sex you might have ever had…feeling her again was like seeing someone you thought was dead and gone, rise up and extend their hand to you, dragging you back down into purgatory with them. 

Except this purgatory was heavenly. Blissful, erotic, and downright forbidden. And it was the sweetest thing you’d ever fucking tasted. 

“Fuck!” You yelled as you lost your direction once again, finding yourself crouching on the floor on the complete wrong end of the building. You grabbed your hair in your hands, feeling like like you could rip out each and every strand, just to torture yourself for what you’d just done. 

There was no justifying this one. No explaining yourselves. You’d cheated. On the best thing you’d found in your life. With your brother’s girl. God damnit…He was never going to speak to you again. This was going to ruin everything. Ruin your relationship with him, with Elle, maybe even Josh and Daniel…the band. Fuck. Right before tour. 

You hoped to god that maybe, by some miracle, Jake wouldn’t find out. You’d rather live with the secret guilt than have him learn about it. 

You must have been walking for a half hour at least before you finally found your room, pulling the key card from your wallet and unlocking the door. You sighed heavily in preparation, easing into the dark shadowy room, finding Elle fast asleep right where you left her. You gently covered her back up, tucking the heavy blankets around her. You walked over to the mini bar and grabbed a bottle of water, placing it beside her on the table, should she wake up and need it. 

You took your shirt off and laid back down in bed, as far away from Elle as you could possibly get…the feeling of showing her affection making your stomach curdle. Maybe you should shower. Yes. 

You let yourself stand under the steaming hot water, trying like hell to wash away the scent of sex and Y/N, still lingering heavily on your body. You normally wanted to bathe in it, bask in it, but right now you felt like you couldn’t scrub it off fast enough. You cleaned yourself over and over, until your skin was red and blotchy. 

You finally decided that your skin may fall off the bone, so you stepped out and dried off, slipping back into the bed to let your body drift off into what would hopefully be the deepest sleep you’d ever had. But instead your mind wandered. Tortured itself. The memories of what you’d done, everything building up to it…it was so wrong. 

You rolled over to look to Elle, her chest heaving slowly as she breathed, deep in her sleep. Your sweet, beautiful, strong and perfect girl, like nothing you’d ever imagined…and you stepped out on her. Did the ultimate thing that no trusting person should ever do. You’d made a truly grave mistake. And you knew you were going to pay for it. 

—

JAKE POV

You tap the key card to the door barely letting the light flash before you throw it open. As you step into the room, you see Y/N rushing around the room, tossing her heels to the floor and throwing down her bag as she tried to make her way into the bathroom. 

“Where the hell have you been?” you ask, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. I texted you!”

You take notice of her flushed cheeks and her heaving chest as you step further into the room. Odd.

“I’ve been in here for a few minutes!” she says, pulling down the straps of her dress.

“No, actually you haven’t. I was just in here, and you weren’t. I thought maybe you were still in Sam and Elle’s room, but when I knocked no one answered the door.” you snap.

“Must have just missed me in passing then.” she says, letting her dress slide to the floor. Your eyes flash to her nipples, hard and standing at attention, her tits slightly swollen and red, her panties twisted to the side. Interesting.

“Well, I took the elevator straight here and you weren’t in here darlin’…thought to myself, ‘Huh, must have taken the stairs.’ A strange choice surely, but what the hell…Still no sign of you…” you say, placing your hand on her shoulder. Her skin is warm, warmer than usual, and her cheeks pink.

“Oh, I went up to the rooftop bar with Sam, he wanted to smoke a cigarette before he walked me back...” she says. 

You swipe the tangled mess of hair from her bare shoulder, as you pull her body into yours and lean into her ear. “Really baby? Because you don't smell like cigarettes.” you pause, breathing her in, “You smell like sex.”

She turns away from your grasp, and makes strides towards her suitcase. “Did you forget what we were doing earlier?” she says, busying herself with the items in her suitcase.

“Oh, I surely didn’t forget what we were doing. But I’m finding myself more intrigued by what happened when I left. Because this...” you motion to her, “...Is not how I left you.” you snap.

“Nothing happened Jake. Elle felt sick, we all stopped. Sam walked me back to the room.” she says, motioning to the door with her hand. You bite your lips together at the use of her hands. Always her dead giveaway that she was lying, but you hoped to god you were wrong.

“But first a quick pit stop on the roof, right…” you correct.

“Oh, yeah…sorry. What’s with the inquisition? Aren’t you exhausted? Let’s go to bed…” she says, trying to change the subject. But you know. You know her better than anyone knows her. You know exactly how she looks when she's been satisfied.  

“Suddenly I’m not tired at all…” you say, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards you.

You bring your face to her neck and inhale, but what you breathe in is not just her.

Fuck.

“You know, on second thought, you do smell like cigarettes. But you’re not the one that smoked them.” you say, releasing her to stumble back a few steps.

“Yeah, I told you. Sam smoked.” she says, defensively.

“Right, so then what the fuck was his mouth doing on your neck? Your throat? Your chest?! I can smell him all over you Y/N!” you yell, gesturing to her throat.

Her face flashes red as she realizes what you’re asking.

“What are you insinuating Jacob?” she snaps.

“I think you know goddamn good and well what i’m insinuating Y/N! Answer the fucking question!” you yell.

She doesn’t answer, and instead faces away from you, cementing her guilt. 

“Tell me I’m fucking wrong, Y/N! Tell me it’s not what I think! Tell me it's the alcohol messing with my head, because surely it can’t be what I think it is!”

“Stop it Jake!” she screams, a tear springing from her eye.

You step back, and look her up and down, her disheveled appearance finally clicking in your brain. Shock is surely painted all over your face. They didn’t just makeout, no. He fucked her. He fucked her minutes ago.

“Should have known the second I turned my back you would do this. Should have never gone up to their room. In fact, it was never about Elle was it? Just used her as a pawn to get what you wanted. Always just getting what you want, huh, Y/N? You two probably fucking planned this didn’t you?” you seethe.

“Yesterday all cuddled up on the fucking piano… Should have fucking known. I knew this shit would happen.” you snap.

She recoils at your statement, crying harder than you’ve probably ever seen her, but you feel nothing.

“Did he fuck you real good, Y/N? Remember all those special places you just love so much?” you say, shaking your head at her.

“Jake, stop! We…we talked about it! I thought you–” she pleads, trying to grab your hands, but you yank them away from her, completely repulsed by her touch.

“We did?! When exactly did I say it was okay to fuck my brother behind my back? I may have been drinking but I’ll be goddamned if I would ever agree to that! Where’d he fuck you? The bathroom? The elevator? The roof? The stairwell?” you snap, seeing her eyes flash to yours.

“Oh, the stairs…The fucking stairwell I was just in. Probably heard me call your name as he was fucking you, huh? Few more flights and I could have seen you whoring it up with my brother? Fucking sick.” you say, pushing off the dresser, beginning to gather a few things into your pockets.

“You have two seconds…two seconds to tell me the truth. Tell me what you’ve done or I’m fucking out of here.” you say, locking eyes with her.

Her eyes blink away the tears rapidly falling, and her lip trembles, but no sound comes out.

“One.” you say, grabbing your things from the bed. 

“Jake…” she breathes.

“Tell me right fucking now Y/N…Say it out loud. Did you fuck him yes or no…” you press, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear her say it.

You make your way over to her, grabbing her chin between your thumb and pointer finger, as you look into her eyes that are frantically searching yours. 

“Two.” you snap, but still no words leave her lips. She’s done it, and didn’t even have the decency to admit it.

You push her face away, spotting the necklace hanging around her neck, gripping the chain in your fist and snapping the metal as you free it from her. You throw it against the wall as hard as you can as you make your way to the door. “Fucking means nothing! Nothing!”

Her sobs rip through the room, completely devastated, but she deserves it. She completely betrayed you. 

“No! Jake, please! Where are you going?” she begs, tears streaming down her sobbing body.

You swallow harshly, “Anywhere you’re not. Do not fucking call me. Do not text me. Disappear for all I care.” and you slip through the door, slamming it shut behind you.

—

Your world feels like it’s crashing down around you the second the door shuts. You can hear her cries through the heavy wooden door, and you feel your heart twist in your chest. 

You frantically pull your phone from your pocket, but as your screen lights up with a photo of her you quickly shove it back into your pocket with a disgusted huff.

Trekking to the elevator you press the button for floor eleven, thanking yourself for swiping Josh’s extra room key earlier. You are completely out of your mind as the elevator makes its way up the few floors. 

Stepping out with only your phone and your wallet you search for his room, completely unsure of what you’re even going to say to him when you do barge in. Tapping the key to his door you are met with pitch black darkness and the sound of his snores. 

You shut the door quietly behind you, and kick off your shoes, making your way to the small couch near the window calling the small expanse of cushions home for the night. He hasn’t heard you enter, and you’re definitely not going to wake him up and explain all of this. 

Instead you lay down onto your side and try to close your eyes, but the image of her and Sam in the hotel room tonight is still fresh in your mind. You would have never agreed to any of this had you known. The part that was eating you alive was the fact she wanted him enough to even consider sleeping with him when you left. 

Did you really not satisfy her? Had you ever?

Rolling to your back, you pushed the images from your head, but were met with a new image of her face just a few short minutes ago. Red, puffy, completely distraught. What did she expect? You to not notice?

You felt your eyes well with tears. Surely this wasn’t the same girl you’d loved your whole life. The same girl who said she loved you just the same? The girl who promised to love no other?

A tear slipped down your cheek as you brought your phone to life, once again being met with the image of her, just a few weeks ago at the cabin, curled up in front of the fireplace in nothing but your flannel.

Your heart constricted and a choked sob left your chest. How could she do this to you? Had she not tortured you enough? When was enough, enough? How could the two of you ever come back from this? You half expected her to call you, text you, even though you told her not to. Telling her to disappear? How could you be so cruel?  How could she be so cruel?

Then, your mind drifted to Sam. Your own flesh and blood. The ultimate betrayal. You had been kind enough to agree to the things that happened in your presence. Something you didn’t even have to do. In fact you had even given him a little more than anticipated, and how did he repay you? 

You flipped to your other side, repositioning the pillow underneath you, hoping and praying you would fall asleep soon, and be taken somewhere else. Somewhere where none of this existed. But as your eyes finally grew heavy, your mind was filled with her, and the broken look on her face, as if she already knew it was over.

—

In his drunken stupor Josh didn’t close the blinds and the blazing hot morning sun peered in through the window promptly at 6:00am. You had managed a few hours of sleep on the stiff couch, and through Josh’s snoring, but you knew you had to slip out before he ever knew you were here. The last thing you wanted to do was answer his questions. 

You pulled yourself up from the couch, and slid your shoes on, making a quick stop in the bathroom before quietly slipping out the door. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, alerting you to your flight in a few hours. Fuck I still have to pack. 

Your mind raced as you made your way back to your room, wondering what you would find when you got there. Your heart was pounding as you opened the door, finding the room silent and a complete mess. It was dark, just a small peek of light shining through the curtains. Just enough to find your girl in one of your t-shirts, and completely wrapped around one of your flannels, clearly falling asleep as she cried into it. 

Your heart ached at the sight of her, mostly because you weren’t sure if she was your girl still. Or if you even still wanted her to be. You took one last look at her, letting yourself have a few more seconds to feel sorry for yourself, and then you looked away. Now it was time to get serious.

You walked over to the curtains, pulling them open to let the bright light in, and searching for your suitcase. You picked it up and tossed it on the bed, before collecting your things and throwing them inside with no care on whether or not you would wake her. She hadn’t considered you, why should you consider her?

The commotion caused Y/N to sit up suddenly, looking around the room. Her eyes were still red and puffy, and you’re sure she had only fallen asleep what must have been minutes prior to your arrival.

“Jake…” she groaned.

You ignored her, staying focused on your task, packing your things neatly into the metal suitcase.

You made your way to the bathroom, collecting up your toiletries and returning to the room. 

“Jake?” she asks, a little louder. 

You take a deep breath and look at her. “Yes?” you snap.

“Can you– Can we talk?” she begs.

“Are you ready to tell the truth?” you ask.

She looks at you, searching for any words that could possibly explain her situation.

“I said, are you ready to tell the truth…” you quip.

You grab a change of clothes from your suitcase, quickly stripping off your dirty, slept in clothes and exchanging them for the clean items. The items that smell like her favorite laundry detergent. That she washed and folded for you, just for this trip. You swallow heavily, pushing the sentiment to the side of your mind. 

Nothing leaves her lips, and her eyes begin to blink rapidly at the harshness of your tone. 

“Thought you wanted to talk.” you seethe.

“I do!” she begs.

“Then fucking say something!” you shout. “It’s simple Y/N. Did you fuck my brother, yes or no?” you ask, condescendingly.

A tear rolls down her cheek, a quiet few seconds passing before she finally whispers, “Yes.”

“I fucking knew it.” you say, slamming your suitcase shut, and pulling the zipper.

“Jake I–” she starts, before you cut her off.

“Do you love him?” you snap. 

She stares at you wide eyed.

“Answer the question.” you say.

She shakes her head in confusion, and scrambles to stand from the bed. She walks over to you, placing her hand on your arm. Her skin on yours feels like hot coals, burning you in the worst way.

“Yes or no, Y/N.” you say, snapping your arm away from her.

“I don’t know! No! I used to love him, I think! I don’t anymore! It was a mistake, Jake!” she cries. 

“You don’t know!? Well, here’s an easy one for you…Do you love me?” you ask, pulling your suitcase to the floor.

“Yes! Of course I do! You know I love you Jake! I love you more than anything!” she shouts.

“Really?! You could have fucking fooled me! I’m pretty sure love doesn’t look like getting railed by my brother in a fucking stairwell while I search the entire goddamn hotel for you! Then trying to lie and say nothing happened!” you screamed.

“Jake! It wasn’t like that! It–It just happened! We were drinking and smoking, none of us were in our right minds! I don’t know what happened! It didn’t mean anything it just…I don’t know…I fucked up! I don’t know!” she trailed off, trying to collect her thoughts.

“I don’t understand Y/N! I give and I give and I give, and it’s still not enough! You still want him! Why? Why am I not enough?! How can you stand there and tell me that you love me, and then do something like this? How can I ever trust you again?” you shout.

“You are enough Jake! I’m just an idiot! I fucked up. I will never forgive myself. Please, please just stay! We can fix this! I will fix this!” she cries.

“As far as I’m concerned, this…” you pause, motioning between the two of you, “...is fucking destroyed. There is no fix. Do you get that?” you say.

She all but crumbles onto the bed, “Jake…please, you–you don’t mean that…”

You roll your suitcase to the door, and twist the handle, “I do. I do mean it.”

“Are you trying to tell me that you weren’t going to sleep with Elle last night? I saw you! I saw you two together. You wanted her just as bad as she wanted you! The whispering! The noises!” she says.

Heat rises into your face, as you let your words simmer in your mind before letting them fall like razors from your tongue. “Of course I fucking wanted to! Fuck we almost did! But you know what would have happened first? I would have fucking told you. I would have made one hundred percent sure that you were okay with it. Sam too. Then and only then, would I have actually considered it. But you know what? Given the circumstances, maybe I still can. What’s fair is fair, right Y/N?” you say with a shrug. You watch her visibly recoil at the thought.

“Jake! No!” she begs, pulling herself up from the bed. 

“What? It’s okay for you to go behind my back, but it’s not okay for me to go behind yours? Interesting rules in your fucked up little game, Y/N…” you seethe, turning towards her.

“It was a mistake…Please don’t go…I’m so sorry.” she cries.

You shake your head, completely distraught over her every painfilled word. It’s then you spot the necklace you threw so carelessly the night before, crumpled and twisted on the floor, causing your own eyes to well with tears. You flip your sunglasses down over your eyes, and swallow back the lump in your throat. 

You turn to look at her one last time. “It’s too late for ‘I’m sorry’, you should have thought about this while you were screaming someone else's name in a stairwell like a whore… I have to go. Need to go pay someone a visit.”

“Jake, please! Please, you can’t tell her! She–Let Sam tell her. Please!” she hardly manages through her constant tears. 

“I’ll take that into consideration…” you say facetiously. 

“I’ll do anything! Anything! Just don’t go…I…”

“No...You know what? I think you’ve done enough.” you snap.

It guts you as the words leave your mouth. The finality of your words rolling around in your head as you force yourself to step through the door and let it close behind you.

As your feet drag you down the hallway, you press the button for the elevator and as the doors slide open you finally know how it feels to be on the giving end of leaving.

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Chapter 20

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[girl4music]

So… I really like Catra. It’s been a while since a character impacted me emotionally the way she does. So I wanted to do a bit of a deep dive into who she is, why she is, and, as always, what I’m most interested in: what she can tell us about ourselves. So, let’s cut to the core of it. Catra is an abused child and this is a story about trauma. When we talk about trauma, we often associate it with a single life-shattering event but trauma itself is more broad and somewhat Universal in basic terms: the damage to the mind caused by any distressing event that overwhelms our ability to process it in the moment. When this happens to children in developmental stages the damage becomes even greater. As a child everything’s already overwhelming. Every crisis is the end of the world. Every new discovery is the most exciting thing ever, and we’re incredibly vulnerable to the stimuli around us. Internalizing each new experience as the way the world is. 

Catra is traumatized by a childhood characterized by intimidation, manipulation, and verbal and physical abuse. In Catra’s case, her trauma isn’t some anecdote to her fraught relationship with Adora. It’s directly related to it. The traumatized mind is predicated on safety and when Adora leaves, Catra’s sense of safety is shattered. What we see for 4 seasons is her attempt to recapture that safety using the dysfunctional tools she picked up from her abuser. So really the first place to start is understanding the most formative relationship in her life: Shadow Weaver. 

Shadow Weaver tells us she sees herself in Catra but she specifically sees the parts she doesn’t like. Catra who isn’t born with some inherent power to exploit, Catra who struggles for recognition. Shadow Weaver tries to prove herself too and is rejected by Mysticore and Catra becomes the outlet for that shame. She doesn’t get to be a person. She’s a child made to be an adult woman’s receptacle for her own self-hate and the narrative frequently posits the 2 of them as mirrors. In ‘Promise’ we see Shadow Weaver reluctantly acknowledge her mistreatment of Catra but amends it immediately with…

SHADOW WEAVER: “And I won’t apologize!”

And in the same episode…

CATRA: “What do you want, an apology? You’re not getting one!”

I wonder where she learned that…

Catra does in fact learn a great deal from Shadow Weaver because, well, she was the one with the power. It’s this idea of: “if you can have the power, maybe she can’t hurt you anymore.” She picked up her patterns as an abused kid would as a way to both predict her and protect herself and in doing so, she absorbs Shadow Weaver’s distorted view of the world. One in which love makes you weak and weakness is not allowed. If Catra’s arc is driven by a need to protect this wounded child, we might understand her arc best by looking at that very childhood. Let’s look at the flashbacks in ‘Promise’ and in ‘Corridors’, the 2 that bookend Catra’s way in and out of her spiral. We’ll get to them both, but let’s start with ‘Promise’. 

‘Promise’ gives us a detailed microcosm of the kind of dynamics that inform why Catra is the way she is. Adora and Catra are playing. They both, as curious children, go into Shadow Weaver’s chamber. They both break in but it’s Catra Shadow Weaver tortures. Immobilizing her before threatening her life. She tells Catra the only thing keeping her alive is Adora’s fondness for her. So as we peel back the layers of Catra and Adora’s relationship, we see that their conflict is one that exists by design. As a tactic of divide and conquer of abuse victims. 

CATRA: “What is your problem with me?” 

ADORA: “I mean, you are kind of disrespectful.” 

CATRA: “You never protected me! Not in any way that would put you on Shadow Weaver’s bad side.”

If Catra and Adora blame each other or themselves, it takes some of the focus off of Shadow Weaver. So from here we learn first that Catra is taught that she has no value if Adora doesn’t want her. Second, that something innate in her deserves more punishment for the same transgression. But for all the grief Shadow Weaver seems to give her, her best friend still wants her around. And so... for the time being… it’s okay. The world is a mess but they have each other.

And so… the weight of ‘The Promise’. 

So when Catra believes Adora breaks it, that’s why her entire world crashes down. She’s no longer safe and the Horde kids seem to know it too. 

LONNIE: “Easy Catra, Adora’s not here to protect you anymore.”

While Adora was right to leave, it’s also the perfectly placed stab to the wounds inflicted on her as a child and before making her choice to turn on Adora, Catra’s gaze lingers on that child. Everything she does from this point on is to protect it. So why didn’t she just leave with Adora in the first place? Surely, it would have saved a lot of time and trouble. Well, it would mean accepting that Adora left on the word of two strangers. In the defensive state she was in, Adora’s offer to go with her would have felt like even more of a betrayal. An afterthought to the best friend she didn’t care enough to actually go back for. So Catra works overtime to prove her independence. If she never needed Adora in the first place, her betrayal can’t hurt anymore. So now, any other offer of closeness is one she can’t afford. This informs her other relationships going forward. Notably, that with Scorpia. 

Coming out of the biggest abandonment in her life, Scorpia approaches Catra with an incredibly eager and unsolicited offer at closeness. Certainly, Catra is cold at best and cruel at worst to Scorpia, excluding their time in the Crimson Waste, but her discomfort makes sense. We’re told and shown Catra asking for boundaries and personal space, which Scorpia repeatedly encroaches on. 

CATRA: “Scorpia, remember that little talk we had about personal space?”

Physical touch which seems to make Catra particularly jumpy is also something that Scorpia does a lot. Catra’s behaviour towards Scorpia is still hurtful and wrong but this is a relationship between 2 people misreading each other and needing very opposite things. It’s just a bad place in time for them both. In her relationship with Scorpia and beyond, Catra continues to behave more and more erratically. Her abuse makes her a walking paradox, craving connection as any lonely kid would but also learning to see connection as the precursor to pain. Pushing it away harshly the closer it gets. What Catra’s doing is recreating the cycles of unstable attachment not because they’re good, but because they’re familiar. And in her fearful mind, familiar is synonymous with safe. 

I talked in another She-Ra video about the authentic self and the traumatized mind survival mode may well be the inverse of that. It’s not making choices that honour wants, personalities, aspirations. It’s being stuck in a state of nervous system hyper-vigilance. 

CATRA: “How dare they take best friends and turn them into giant sword ladies-”

Not only does Adora leave but in doing so she gains magical power and popular adoration. This gives us an idea of how Catra views She-Ra. As the thing who took her one safe person and turned her into something unrecognizable. She-Ra as the very proof of everything she was threatened with as a child. Adora’s greatness and her meaninglessness. This all ties to the fact that Catra believes that love is finite. This idea isn’t just explored through Catra. In what seemed like almost throw-away lines in ‘Princess Prom’, Catra’s thoughts are parroted by Glimmer. They had very different upbringings - certainly Glimmer had status and privilege Catra never did - but they’re similar in their isolation and that respective isolation leads them to see their value and relationships as zero sum, and inherently unstable. Bow makes new friends and Glimmer’s response recalls Catra. 

BOW: “Glimmer, I’m allowed to hang out with other people.” 

GLIMMER: “But don’t you see? That’s how it starts. Then suddenly everyone has new friends and nobody needs me anymore and then… I’m all alone.” 

But Catra’s also been abused so finite love doesn’t just make her anxious. It sends her into a tailspin. So she tries to re-establish control the way she’s been shown how. Power and influence so she might be safe. From mimicking her, she literally becomes Shadow Weaver. Ascending to her position in a move that she thinks will grant her the safety she needs but it doesn’t help. 

So she goes to Shadow Weaver for help and here we see the complexity of trauma bonds. Shadow Weaver may well be the cause of Catra’s pain and pathologies, but in that twisted way, she’s also the person who knows her best, and thus someone who can give to Catra the recognition she craves. In a scene that makes me want to reach out and hug her, Catra asks: 

CATRA: “I was a child when you took me in. What could I have possibly done to deserve the way you treated me?”

And I was reminded of…

ZUKO (From ‘Avatar: The Last Airbender’): “My father, who challenged me, a 13 year old boy to an agnikai. How can you possibly justify a duel with a child?”

She knows Shadow Weaver is a terrible person but in the moment she gives her the appearance of kindness, we see how much Catra needs it. But then Shadow Weaver leaves too. Playing at being Shadow Weaver stops working and the only other authority figure in her life tortures her, then sends her to die. But in the Crimson Waste where Hordak expects Catra’s pathetic life to come to an end, something happens. Mere days out of the Horde and Catra’s patterns start to change. She’s more open, playful. She’s still an ex-Horde soldier picking fights but it’s different. She’s kinder, warmer towards Scorpia as she toasts her to a crowd. But that old wound is still raw and it’s pushed HARD. 

ADORA: “Catra,… Shadow Weaver is in Brightmoon.”

CATRA: “Shadow Weaver left me.”

With five words a heel turn. In seconds from cocky and confident to complete tunnel vision. This is a person having a panic attack. At Catra’s most broken yet, we see her despair at what’s been done to her. 

CATRA: “You made me this way and you get to be the good guy?!”

There’s nothing but the need to win now. And barely a year after Adora leaves Catra’s despair spirals into something even more tragic. 

CATRA: “Threats only work on someone who has something to lose… but me? I’ve already lost it all.”

There have been hints in Season 2’s Crimson Waste episode of Catra being indifferent to or actively seeking the end of her life. Let’s look at what happens contextually around the time that Catra pulls the lever. She’s been suffocated and potentially killed by Hordak then sent to die in the Waste. However she might have been healing, hearing that Shadow Weaver chose Adora rips that progress open. She’s back in panic mode and Hordak and Entrapta have built just the thing extreme enough to match that feeling. What she does know is that Hordak has a way to win and it involves pulling the lever. She also knows that the lever will significantly change the world somehow. Catra isn’t attached to this world because as she’s told us: 

CATRA: “I’ve already lost it all.”

So she pulls the lever and the world changes. And it looks like it always should. She’s not in charge. She’s not Force Captain. She and Adora are together like they said they would be, and Shadow Weaver is kind to her. Until the ruse falls apart. Adora has taken that brief peace from her, leaving their life behind all over again. So she antagonizes She-Ra’s heroism because, to her, it’d feel like hypocrisy. Adora praised as a hero when she couldn’t even be bothered to stick by the one person she promised to help. And again, we see how distinct Adora and She-Ra are in Catra’s mind. She’s friendly to Adora in the alternate Universe because that’s her friend in the life they once had. But when Adora wakes up, she’s She-Ra again. She-Ra who has to save the world and who, once again, leaves her behind to do it. So there’s nothing left but to let all of it and herself… burn. In Season 4 she reverts to her old self-defence state full force. Easier to retreat behind it than to confront the grief of what she’s lost. She falls back on old patterns, seeking approval from the next authority figure she sees. She fully embraces the Big Bad villain mantle as the only script left for her to follow. She’s become what Shadow Weaver wanted. Strong. She should feel safe now. But the wounds inside her have not healed. 

CATRA: “Just leave… like everybody else.”

Now this could seem ridiculously hypocritical. “Of course they left, Catra. You pushed them away.” If Catra’s so lonely and wants connection, why not just ask? Well, that’s the ironic bit, right? Because if love comes too easily, it can’t be worth something. This isn’t logical but trauma brain doesn’t operate with logical, it operates on habit. And this is what Catra was conditioned to believe. Recognition only has value if it is earned. And that’s why we see Catra so preoccupied with proving. And the most insidious thing about these cycles is that they’re almost entirely unconscious. Now this isn’t to say that Catra isn’t aware of what’s happening but Catra the person is very much in the backseat to what are an addictive set of behaviours that are as harmful to her as anyone else, and living like this is exhausting. We see it take its toll on her mind and her health. By the end of season four she just wants it to stop. Trauma brain, addictive cycles. These things all work together to tell us that the world is predictable, and thus, so are we. We are pain. We cause pain. We will never change. So the most significant piece of Catra’s arc is just that: change. 

And here we have the second significant insight into her childhood. Not memories projected by Light Hope to manipulate them into separating, but Catra’s own choice to reflect. The impetus of the show is Catra’s perceived betrayal. We got some insight into why that is in ‘Promise’ and ‘Corridors’ shows her processing the how. Catra believes that Adora becoming friends with Lonnie is going to threaten her value. See the way she frames it: 

“You’re supposed to be my friend.” 

As if Adora can only have one friend at a time. 

“Love is finite.”

This is the world of absolutes that she inherits from Shadow Weaver. At the same time that she’s processing these memories, she starts to connect with Glimmer. Glimmer who shares her burden of an impulsive choice that almost ended the world. Glimmer who has shared her same insecurities. Catra listens to her talk about her friendship with Adora and relates back with stories of her own. Maybe Adora didn’t leave for power and glory. Maybe Adora loves Glimmer. And maybe,… she really did love Catra too. Maybe it’s too late but she’s here now with this new clarity. So Catra does one good thing. And she expects to die and she’s okay with that because, after all, there’s nothing left for her. No forgiveness she deserves. No chance at a different life. But she survives. Adora comes back for her and it doesn’t make sense. And in this act of kindness, one she doesn’t think she deserves, she’s offered a choice: 

Accept Adora’s forgiveness, not as an eraser of the past, but a nod towards the future

OR 

Define herself by her lowest points, set out for some planet alone, and let her story end

I think Adora’s forgiveness cuts through because Adora has a vantage point no one else does. Having seen up close both her pain and the person beneath it. We see how impactful a change of environment is to Catra as she starts to heal. It’s certainly not linear. She retreats to old patterns when she’s scared, pushing Adora away because it’s easier to expect hate than to accept love that could be taken away. But she’s also vulnerable around people who have every reason to hate and punish her, like she thinks she deserves. And she’s still met with kindness. And she tries to help. She apologizes to Entrapta when Entrapta is content to let it be. She uses her connection to the chip Hive Mind to help the Rebellion when it causes her incredible pain. She recognizes her outbursts of anger and takes immediate steps to control it. She confronts her abuser and sticks up for both Adora and herself. After years spent in fear, she starts to find herself again. And eventually she returns the kindness Adora showed her on the ship back to her, asking her what she wants and trying to protect her from her own self-destruction: questioning Shadow Weaver’s motives when Adora is ready to sacrifice herself without hesitation. And finally, with no guarantee of reciprocation, she stays with Adora and tells her that she is loved. It’s love that Catra doesn’t believe is reciprocated and she doesn’t need it to be. When she lets go of expectations, she’s able to give love freely. And when it’s given freely, Adora is able to accept it. And so they traverse the biggest gulf in their separate arcs.

So why does Catra matter?

What Catra’s story shows us is a realistic depiction of a traumatized child. Trauma isn’t always romanticized and pretty. A shy meek victim. It can be ugly, violent and messy. And still deserving of compassion. So as with any destructive cycle, the solution is deceptively simple: doing anything different. In my ‘Corridors’ video I talked about the symbolism flip of “light” and “dark” in that episode. Catra hypothetically choosing the “dark” corridor. As some people in the comments pointed out, this could also symbolize the “dark” as the unknown, and that makes perfect sense to me. Survival mode thrives on unconscious pattern and predictability. The “dark” corridor might be the unknown of a new decision. Scary maybe, but the only way out. With fiction we show each other what’s possible. People aren’t obligated to forgive us, but they do, sometimes. However we might feel we do or don’t deserve it, it’s theirs to give. 

Or as one of my favourite shows puts it…

GILES (From ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’): “To forgive is an act of compassion, Buffy. It’s not done because people deserve it, it’s done because they need it.”

I think our ability to extend forgiveness to characters that don’t exist directly relates to our ability to forgive ourselves. If we forgive ourselves and let ourselves become better people because of it, we might see how that’s possible for others. Now does this mean we’re excusing harm as long as someone’s backstory is sad enough? Certainly not. But there’s a difference between the calculated repeated offences of an adult and the dysregulated self-defence behaviours of a traumatized teenager. If Catra were raised in a loving and stable home and just lashed out for no reason, this would be a different conversation. Understanding the impact of severe trauma means understanding that there’s a way out and seeing the person beneath the defence mechanisms of the child they’re still trying to protect. It’s a footnote to most episodes but Catra’s bond with Melog narratively connects the 2 as abuse survivors learning to trust and manage their emotions. And Melog’s behaviour mirrors Catra’s own: defensive and reactive from being attacked, calming down when reassured that they are safe. There’s a neat little microcosm of this in the episode ‘Hero’: A wild boar is charging at Mara and Mara - a product of the First Ones - instantly reaches to her sword to attack. The beast only grows angrier until Madam Razz steps in and offers it only gentleness. It was just scared. In this situation, some of us might forgive. Some of us might not. But Adora chooses to. Adora, who’s seen the routine abuse that made Catra the way she is. And Adora who still saw her best friend beneath it and decided to reach out. On what this all means to me, there’s a ‘Good Place’ quote that comes back to me often…

MICHAEL (From ’The Good Place’): “The point is people improve when the get external love and support. How can we hold it against them when they don’t?”

So I find Catra’s story to be a kindness to those whose experiences might resemble hers. When we lose ourselves in old survival mechanisms and harm the people we love. We might believe we could change but fear we won’t be given the chance. That chance isn’t owed and it’s not expected… but it’s still possible. Simply, sometimes if you need forgiveness and want to change, someone might give it to you. And sometimes, if you believe in someone, they might not let you down. And when trying to keep that hope that the world can be kinder, that we and those around us can change for the better, maybe sometimes is enough.”

I think the only thing I have to say in response to this absolutely exceptional character study video on Catra and her significant abuse and trauma arc by Five By Five Takes is REPRESENTATION MATTERS and if you don’t provide authentic storytelling and representation in fiction of characters that go through these situations and have to face these circumstances, why are you in the visual art/entertainment field at all? Storytelling and representation go hand-in-hand and the most compelling visual art/entertainment media or content always makes sure that they do go hand-in hand. 

This is just a children’s TV show and it provides a perfect thematic narrative on the dark and serious impacts of abusive trauma, psychological conditioning and genocide that most adult TV shows will never ever even attempt to touch because they’re so afraid of pulling their audience base in a direction that they may not want to go in but may very much NEED to go in.

‘She-Ra and the Princesses of Power’ pulls no punches on providing substantial storytelling and representation to its majorly young audience base and they have succeeded extremely well in that endeavour. I’ve said this before in past Tumblr posts of mine, but it really does go to show you what is possible and what can be achieved when you’re brave and adamant enough to go against the grain of censorship. Nate Stevenson and his entire phenomenal creative team behind the production of this children’s TV show achieved an incredible feat enough that this JUST AS phenomenal YouTube creator (Five By Five Takes) could provide an incredible character study and commentary on which makes you love the initial content it’s based on all the more. The insight in this one character study video has done wonders for my understanding of and reception to the character Catra as well as my appreciation for the production of ‘She-Ra and the Princesses of Power’ as a whole as I have only seen it all the way through once. 

This is what it’s all about for me. This is what I am here for as an enthusiast of art/entertainment of any medium and in any format. Visual or otherwise. And if more recent TV show/film creators were able to provide this level of substantial storytelling and representation in one total creative product, I would watch more recent TV art/entertainment and discover more wonderful characters and themes and narratives instead of fall back on re-runs of my most beloved TV shows and films of all-time. I could join in the hype of talking about it with everyone else if that was the case. 

But, unfortunately, it’s not. The fact I found this level of substantial storytelling and representation in a children’s TV show made in 2018-2020 speaks volumes to me about how afraid TV show/film creators are these days to go this hard, this deep and this intense with their storytelling and representation and I am deeply saddened that this is the way that it is right now. I sincerely hope next year that there is an improvement in TV art/entertainment because we really NEED it because it isn’t just about being entertained. It’s about being educated and the learning process is the point!

[mymoodwriting]

12.5k, vampires, blood, bullying, abuse, physical abuse, verbal abuse, biting, kidnapping, restraints, torture, knives, stabbing, near-death experience, mind control, manipulation, yandere

“What do we have here?”

    Seonghwa had just been walking down the street when he heard giggling. He wouldn’t really care for it until he caught the scent. He followed the sound and found a bunch of school girls pouring strawberry milk onto another in a back alley, laughing and calling her names. She was curled up on the floor with her head down and eyes closed, taking it all without so much as a whimper. He pulled the lollipop out of his mouth and called them out.

“Ya! What are you doing?”

“Mind your business.” One of the girls spoke. “And get lost.”

“Are you picking on her because she’s a vampire?”

“What’s it matter to you?”

“Because I’m the real deal.” Seonghwa flashed his fangs, eyes glowing red. “Now get lost.”

    The girls scurried off without a word. He watched them go as he got closer to the other one on the floor. Even from a distance, even while covered in strawberry milk, he could tell she was a vampire like him.

“Are you alright?”

    You wiped away some milk from your face, slowly looking up at the gentlemen standing before you. When you looked up you were immediately caught off guard by his beauty, but that just confused you all the more.

“Why did you do that?”

“Why were you taking it?”

“I’m not a monster…” You slowly got up. “I’m not gonna give anyone a reason to believe I am.”

“Then what does that make me?”

“Huh?” The boy’s eyes glowed red. “You’re a vampire…”

“You couldn’t tell?”

“Uh…”

“Anyway, here.” The boy offered you a small blood bag. “Don’t worry, it’s from the blood bank. You probably need it more than me.”

“I don’t drink human blood…”

“Ah, so that’s why they were picking on you. You’re not a proper vampire. No wonder you couldn’t recognize my scent.”

“Sa… sorry for causing you trouble… I’ll be going now…”

    You politely bowed and started walking off but the boy followed you, getting in your way. You thought the girls were bad enough, but an actual vampire was far worse in your mind.

“Why do you go to a public school? You know there’s a private school for vampires, right?”

“I prefer a public one…”

“You’re not human, you know that, right?”

“By your standards I’m not a vampire either.”

He scoffed. “Touché.” 

“I’m sorry for the trouble, but… thank you…”

“No problem.” He looked down at your name tag. “Y/n.”

    Seonghwa put the lollipop back in his mouth, stepping aside so you could be on your way. He watched you go for a while, a lot on his mind. He couldn’t understand why some vampires didn’t drink human blood, let alone why some went to school alongside humans. It was honestly quite annoying to see, especially that you were getting picked on for being different, and letting it happen. He couldn’t really just stand by and let this go though.

🖤

    School wasn’t really easy for you, especially being the only vampire in your class, but you got by just fine. You had good grades, did just fine in gym class, and mostly kept to yourself. If you weren’t a vampire they’d probably have you be class president or something, but that wasn’t gonna happen. You’d probably refuse it as well, not wanting to be a bother to anyone. Of course that didn’t stop your peers from bothering you.

“Shit… paper cut… ya, bloodsucker.”

    It didn’t make sense how your classmates feared you, yet had no problem picking on you. The smallest drop of blood made you uneasy, and they were well aware of that. The second the scent hit you the atmosphere grew tense. You tried to make yourself small, but your classmate and her friends had gotten up, coming over to your desk.

“You want a taste?”

“Ya, come on. I hear the tiniest bit of blood makes you go crazy.”

“Please leave me alone…”

“Aren’t you hungry though? We’re just tryna help.”

“I’m alright…”

“Don’t be shy.”

    The girl chuckled and wiped some blood on your cheek. You immediately freaked out and rushed out of the room, making your way to the nearest bathroom. You didn’t care to see if anyone else was around, going to the sink and washing your face. Thankfully it was only a small amount, but even after you washed it off the scent lingered for a while longer. You made your way outside, wanting the smell of everything to fill your nose. Despite it all, you were used to this type of behavior from your peers. In the end it was relatively harmless, but you always feared a line would be crossed.

“Ya, vampire, didn’t you leave something in the kitchen?”

    Your things would always go missing, but they were never gone for long. The others really just liked making you run around, and this time it seemed your pencil case was hidden in the kitchen classroom somewhere. You merely offered a smile and went off to retrieve it. To you it was just another day that you didn’t think anything would happen, that is until you entered the room. As soon as you stepped in you wound up getting soaked in a red liquid. You got a taste of said liquid, the smell also hitting you, it was pigs blood.

“Is this what you look like in your natural state? Not just playing pretend.”

    You wanted to run, but the door had already been shut and locked behind you. When you got your sight back you noticed five others in the room with you. None were recording you, but they were all approaching you, and in your panic you slipped and fell to the floor. They cornered you, and two of them flashed a knife in your face. You thought they might cut up your cheek or something, not like there would be evidence of it, but instead you watched as they slid the blade across their palm, showing you the bloody wound.

“This is what you really want, don’t you?”

“Maybe I’ll let you have some, if you beg.”

    The pigs blood was already messing with you, so to add human blood to that, you knew you were in danger. Your throat felt extremely dry, your heart racing and pounding in your chest. The world was fading and all you could see was red, the sound of blood flow filling your ears. This was bad, and you had to do something before someone got hurt, so you did the only thing you could. When your fangs appeared you bit into your wrist, hard, blood dripping down onto the floor along with your red stained tears. Of course this whole situation couldn’t go unnoticed and soon enough a teacher came into the room, seeing the scene laid out before them.

    The halls were empty, so a crowd hadn’t formed. The teacher sent the two who hurt themselves to the infirmary, a third going with them while the other two went to the principal’s office. You on the other hand were given some time to calm down, and clean up a bit. At least there was a big sink here, so you managed to clean off most of the pigs blood. There was no getting the smell off, and you knew you’d have to change into your gym clothes. At least you didn’t have to clean the bloody mess, just return to class in some sense of shame. You could hear all the whispers going around you, and you did your best to ignore them, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Everything came crashing down when you came in the next day.

“You… you want me to transfer?”

“I believe it would be for the best. A lot has happened, and I worry that you could wind up getting hurt in the process.”

“You mean you’re afraid I’ll hurt someone…”

“That’s not what I said.”

“I didn’t do anything! The others have been-”

“It has been difficult for you from the beginning. Don’t you think it would be better for you if you were among your actual peers?”

“You mean vampires…”

“This isn’t official, just a suggestion. Asinis is a school that’s only for vampires, you might feel more at home there.”

“I guess…”

“Think about it.”

    You had always known about Asinis, looking back, that boy who saved you was wearing their uniform. It had been an option for you from the beginning, but you wanted to try a more normal route. Although it looked like that idea had come to an end. You had always known that your peers would harbor some fear, or hate, towards you, but you knew that they had nothing to fear. Now things had changed, now you were the one who was afraid. That stunt in the kitchen the other day, if they had done something like that, it was possible they’d take it further, and you wouldn’t be safe if they did. By the end of the day you put in the transfer request, and by the end of the week you were all set. 

    You couldn’t even rest during the weekend, too anxious about starting at your new school. Since it was one for vampires, there was serious security at the entrance. All the students had to show an ID card to a guard, and even if it seemed tedious, no one seemed to mind. In fact some seemed a bit smug, proud to be entering a private school, proud to be a vampire. The set up did make it a drag to get in, but it was designed to keep humans from entering without authorization. It would be very dangerous for one to get in. Many have tried, but failed, and if someone did succeed, there was no word of it. Obviously, with this being your first day, you didn’t have an ID card. Even if you were a vampire, and a student, no ID card, meant no entry.

“I’m the new transfer student… today is my first day…”

    You were trying to explain to a guard your situation. You had been told you would get your ID card on our first day, but the problem was getting in without one. You figured you were probably gonna have to wait until everyone else had gotten in before someone would be called over about you, but you were suddenly grabbed. Someone wrapped their arm around your shoulder and pulled you close to them.

“I’m happy to see you here.”

“Uh…”

    When you got a good look you were able to recognize the person, it was the boy from before, the one who had saved you.

“You finally made the right choice by coming here.”

“Yeah… sure…”

“Let’s go. You’ll love it. I’ll show-”

“I can’t…”

“Huh?”

“It’s my first day… I don’t have an ID card yet…”

“Right. Just a security precaution. Can’t have a human sneaking in, they wouldn’t be safe.” 

    He chuckled and pulled you along as he went up to a guard and showed his ID card. He explained to the guard you were new and that you didn’t have your ID card yet. The guard said you couldn’t enter without it, but the boy vouched for you, saying he’d escort you to the teachers office and help you get settled. For whatever reason the guard allowed it, and you were allowed to enter. The boy hadn’t let you go, and you were a bit afraid to move away since he said he’d be taking you to the teachers office. You didn’t want to get lost.

“Uh… thank you…”

“No problem. It’s better than waiting for a teacher to come confirm everything and let you in.”

“Right… uh… can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“What’s your name…”

“Oh, right. I haven’t properly introduced myself. My apologies” The boy stepped back and offered you a bow. “Park Seonghwa. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“It’s-”

    Before you speak another boy had come from out of nowhere and put Seonghwa in a headlock, spinning him around and laughing.

“Been looking for you all morning! Where’s the blood bag you owe me! We had a deal!”

“Wooyoung!” Seonghwa hissed. “This is not how you treat your elders!”

    A few other boys had gathered around, one of the taller ones yanking Wooyoung away. Seonghwa composed himself, glaring at Wooyoung before getting a blood bag out of his bag and offering it to the boy.

“Here you go, just as promised.”

“Alright! You’re the best, hyung!”

“I know.”

“So, what were you-”

    Wooyoung suddenly noticed you quietly standing off to the side. His eyes lit up and he stepped towards you, looking you over.

“Hello gorgeous… would you like some breakfast?” Wooyoung offered you the blood bag. “It’s the best there is.”

“Uh…”

“She doesn’t drink human blood.” Seonghwa stated. “So don’t bother.”

“Huh? Do you know her?”

“Kinda. It’s her first day, and I’m taking her up to the teachers office.”

“Ah, in that case, welcome. I’m Wooyoung, nice to meet you.”

“Y/n… nice to meet you.”

“We should get going.” Seonghwa said. “Before classes start.”

    Along the way the rest of what seemed to be Seonghwa’s friends introduced themselves to you. They seemed nice, and you could at least appreciate that they didn’t comment on your dietary choices. They dropped you off at the teachers office, hoping to see you around. You thanked them and made your way into the office, introducing yourself. Your homeroom teacher greeted you, having you sit down with them while they got you settled in. You received your ID card, and told not to lose it as replacing it was going to cost you. They even showed you around a bit, letting you know how to navigate the school, as well as the rules.

“There are two lunchrooms.”

“Two?”

“One for those who drink human blood, and one for those who don’t. We’re all the same here, but we respect those who chose not to consume human blood. We also understand the difficulties with that, so we have two separate lunch rooms to accommodate.”

“It’s very nice of you.”

“We do our best. Now shall we get you to class?”

    You were introduced to your class, immediately seeing the familiar face of Seonghwa and his friends. They all seemed pretty excited to see you, and seeing them did put you a bit at ease. Although, even if this place was different, it felt the same to you. So the fear of being an outcast lingered. You quietly took your seat, and got your things out. It would take some time to adjust to everything, but you knew you’d put your best effort into it. This place could be good to you. At least that’s what you hoped.

“Lunch time!” You heard Wooyoung cheer. “Let’s go!”

    When the bell rang you got a bit anxious. You knew where the lunch room was, but you knew that was gonna be a whole new experience. Back at your old school you wouldn’t have lunch with your peers. You could eat human food, but your primary diet was blood, not human, but an alternative type of blood. So you’d always find a quiet place to have a blood bag. A handful of times you were caught and had to find a new place, but you knew that didn’t need to be the case here. 

“Are you gonna come with us?”

    You hadn’t noticed that Seonghwa and his friends had come up to you, surrounding you. That is until Yunho asked you about lunch.

“No better place to fix your diet than here.”

“Fix?”

“You’re a vampire.” Seonghwa commented. “You should eat properly, get all the nutrients you need. I can promise you it’s wonderful. Especially for a first time.”

“Ah, I’m good. I know alternative blood probably doesn’t sound appealing to you, but it provides me with everything I need.”

“Don’t kid yourself. You’re curious, aren’t you?” Seonghwa leaned down close to you. “Wondering what human blood tastes like, wanting a taste…”

“Uh…”

“Leave her alone, Seonghwa.”

    Seonghwa rolled his eyes and stood up, looking over at the boy who had called him. All his friends were glaring too, and you looked over as well. It was one of your new classmates.

“Mind your business, Choi San.”

    Seonghwa and his gang headed out without another word. This San boy walked over to you, a kind smile on his face.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah. I just thought he was nice…”

“Seonghwa is like that. He’s charming, and nice, and a good guy, but only to those who drink human blood. To the rest of us he’s a completely different person. I don’t know what his problem is.”

“You… you don’t drink human blood?”

“No. I prefer the alternative.”

“Oh…”

“Shall we go to lunch then? Since it’s your first day I can imagine you’re nervous, and I’d be happy to show you around.”

“That’d be nice.”

“Cool. Come on then.”

    You gathered your things and headed to lunch with San. He properly introduced himself, and told you that you could always go to him with any questions. You thanked him for his kindness, starting to feel like you’ve made a friend. The fact that he was more like you really put you at ease too. Walking into the lunchroom was a new experience for you, and you were quite amazed. There was actually a full on menu available for you. Some foods were laced with alternative blood, and there were some without. San made some recommendations, and you were also eager to try new things. You sat together, getting to know each other more as well. San even shared some of his food with you, glad to see you so happy.

“You’re adjusting nicely.”

“It’s a nice place…”

“You’re with your people, so it only makes sense you’re more at ease.”

“Yeah…”

“Can I ask something?”

“What?”

“Why didn’t you come here from the start? Why go to a normal school?”

“Well… I didn’t think I’d fit in here…”

“Here? Asinis? A school for vampires? What do you mean?”

“I thought everyone here drank human blood… and since I don’t… I’d be an outcast…”

“You weren’t an outcast at your old school?”

“I was, but that’s cause I am different from them. My nature, my diet, I’m not human. Everyone here is like me, so to be an outcast among my own people…”

“Better to be an outcast among humans than your own kind.”

“Yeah…” 

“Well that’s not gonna be happening here. You’re not alone.”

“I can see that now. Thanks.”

🖤

    You found yourself settling in nicely, as well as coming out of your shell. You socialized with your classmates, and San introduced you to some of his friends. It made you realize that this is what school was supposed to be like. Of course it wasn’t perfect either. Every now and then Seonghwa and his gang would bother you. They’d corner you out in the halls or in between classes, and it was always the same thing. This was a reason why you were afraid of being at an all vampires school. You always figured others would be shoving human blood in your face, trying to get a reaction out of you.

    Thankfully you had practice keeping yourself composed. Humans may not have been able to shove blood bags in your face, or simply breathe down your neck with the smell of blood on their breath, but they had their ways of messing with you. Of course you weren’t always dealing with them. San acted like your guardian angel, getting Seonghwa and his gang to leave you alone, even coming to your rescue at times. Although as much as you appreciated him, he couldn’t always be there for you and you had to hold your own.

“Why don’t you drink human blood?” Yeosang asked. “I’m genuinely curious.”

    You were enjoying a free period, sitting in the gym bleachers with some homework when you were suddenly surrounded. Yeosang threw his arm around your shoulder, talking to you as if he had always been there, as if you two were close.

“I mean, you’re really missing out here.”

    It had always been a rumor to you, but ever since you came to Asinis, you saw the truth. You had a heightened sense of smell, of sight, of hearing, you healed faster than humans, but that’s as far as your vampire abilities went. You had always heard that those who drink human blood had more power, and now you saw it for yourself. Those vampires had super strength, super speed, they practically healed instantaneously. It gave you all the more reason to be afraid of them, and all the more reason to behave.

“I’m happy as I am.”

“But why?” Seonghwa questioned. “You’re weak. Even by human standards. Don’t you think that’s embarrassing?”

“I’m not the only one who consumes alternative blood, and I’m not weak.”

“Right. It’s not like you were cornered by a bunch of humans and doused in pigs blood. They even went as far as to cut themselves to get a rise out of you.”

“How… how do you…”

    Despite how insane of an incident that was, the news didn’t get out. The kids who did it never said anything, even lied about their injuries. None of it was filmed either, which was strange because they had done so before. In truth, no one really knew what happened, and yet Seonghwa did, and with details. You couldn’t comprehend it until an idea hit you.

“Did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Did you mind control my classmates to-”

    Seonghwa was suddenly standing right in front of you, his face all up in yours. His eyes were glowing red and he had a cocky grin on his face.

“Are you accusing me of something, love?”

“I…”

“Use your words. What did I do?”

“You… you…”

    A vampire being able to control humans, that was a rumor that didn’t go around often. If it were true, humans would certainly freak out, and this sense of peace in the world would start to crumble. It seemed far-fetched, even to you who was a vampire, but Seonghwa was making you question the possibility.

“Hm?”

“Y/n!”

    You didn’t know where San had come from, but he rushed over to you, pulling Seonghwa away. He got you to your feet and had you stand behind him, glaring at the others.

“Why can’t you just leave her alone!”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“Well she doesn’t want it.”

“Can’t she speak for herself?”

“Please leave me alone…” You mumbled. “I’m fine as I am.”

Seonghwa scoffed. “If you say so. Let’s go guys.”

    San watched them all go, keeping you behind him. Once they were gone he turned to you, making sure you were alright and weren’t hurt.

“I’m sorry…”

“For what?”

“You’re always coming to my rescue… what if you get hurt?”

“Seonghwa isn’t the type to actually hurt someone. He’d get in trouble with the school if he did. He’s just annoying you with words.”

“I don’t get why though…”

“You’re the new kid, he sees you as an easy target.”

“I wish he’d stop…”

“I’m sure he’ll get bored eventually, but you got me to protect you, so don’t worry.”

“Aren’t you scared of him?”

“Of Seonghwa? Nah, he just likes to flaunt around his power and status. We’ll be okay.”

    San’s words always managed to put you at ease. He knew better than you how things worked around the school. Although you couldn’t easily move past it either. Even if you were with your kind, you were still different and bullied over that. At least it was just words, well, it started off that way. After accusing Seonghwa of messing with your classmates, you couldn’t get the idea out of your head. It explained everything, why the sudden change and boldness in their actions, but you couldn’t understand why Seonghwa would care to do that to you. Maybe he had been there to witness it, but that seemed highly unlikely given how good of a student he was. He wouldn’t sneak out to see that, the school also had strong security to keep people out and the students in. You were probably overthinking this, but something kept nagging at you that there was more. It was only a matter of time before you figured out what that was.

“Are you gonna keep hiding behind San?”

    You were walking the halls, lost in thought, when you were suddenly pinned against the wall. Seonghwa had his hand pressed to the wall at the side of your head, staring you down.

“I… I…”

“You’re finally among your people and you don’t care to grow? You don’t have to be weak for everyone else’s sake. Now you can embrace who you are and yet you still-”

“You wanted me to transfer.”

“Huh?”

    It clicked then, why Seonghwa would care to mess with your old classmates. He was being such a jerk to you now, but when you first met him he was kind. Even on your first day he was nice, getting you through the front gate, introducing you to his friends, even defending your diet and taking you where you needed to go. He was very different to the Seonghwa who stood before you now, but all this bullying went back to one thing. Your diet, and trying to peer pressure you into changing it. You would never consider such a thing if you were still in your old school, because you’d be a danger to your human classmates, and even then Seonghwa wouldn’t have much access to you. Now that you were here he could bother you about it whenever he wanted, but that still didn’t explain why he’d care to do this.

“You made my classmates do that to me so I’d have no choice but to transfer here! Why? What reason-”

“You think I was just gonna sit around knowing one of my kind was being harassed by some low life humans? Just because they were different, because they were seen as weak.”

“If you wanted me here, maybe some better words would have done it!”

“With your human loving demeanor you wouldn’t listen to reason. So I had to take matters into my own hands.”

“You manipulated-”

“Don’t kid yourself. Those humans harassed you, and wanted you gone. They would have done something like that eventually, I just provided a little push.”

“Then why are you harassing me now? You’re no better than them!”

“Do not compare me to those creatures!”

“What is your problem? Why did you bring me here? Why do you care about my diet? Do you like me or something?”

Seonghwa scoffed, a cocky grin appearing on his face. “If that’s the case will you finally be a good girl and listen to me?”

“Uh…”

“Seonghwa!”

    You heard San’s voice, seeing him running over from the corner of your eye, although he wasn’t that fast. In seconds he was pinned to the wall next to you, Seonghwa’s hand around his throat, squeezing. Your eyes went wide in panic and you grabbed Seonghwa’s arm, trying to get him to let go, but he didn’t budge.

“Seonghwa! Seonghwa, please! Let him go!”

“Did you really think that was gonna work?” Seonghwa hissed. “You forget your place.”

“Seonghwa, please let him go.” Tears stung your eyes. “Please.”

“Look at that, you made her cry.”

    Seonghwa squeezed tighter, San quietly struggling to breath before he was released. San slipped to the floor, gasping in air, and you quickly joined him, looking him over. His neck was purple, bruised in the shape of a hand mark, but it was already starting to heal.

“Get in my way again, and you will pay dearly.” Seonghwa threatened. “Let’s go.”

    You glanced up to see Seonghwa and his group leave, but you remained with San. His breathing had already returned to normal, and the bruise had gotten smaller too. He reached up and wiped away some tears.

“Are you okay?”

“Me? What about you? What were you thinking?”

“I don’t like it…”

“What?”

“When you’re afraid… your scent… I don’t like it…”

“Oh… you can tell…”

“It’s how I know when he’s bothering you.”

“You need to be careful. What if you get hurt? Like today, or worse.”

“I’d rather be hurt than see you scared.”

“San…”

“I’m alright.”

“I wish he’d just stop…”

“Let’s stick together more, okay? He doesn’t seem to do anything when I’m around.”

“Okay…”

    Even with some answers that encounter left you with new questions. You didn’t really know Seonghwa’s motivations, and your list of possible answers got longer and more confusing. Still, with San at your side you saw much less of Seonghwa. It was a great relief, and it even gave you all the more reason to get closer to San. You both thought he might stop if he didn’t have a chance to bother you but there would always be times where you two would be separate. You’d try not to be alone when that happened, but there were things you couldn’t avoid. Even if you’d rush from one place to another, Seonghwa was faster than you.

    One day while you were roaming the nearly barren halls, you were suddenly shoved into an empty classroom. You stumbled in your steps and almost fell, but you managed to keep yourself up. Although soon enough you were slammed against the lockers, finding yourself staring down Seonghwa. His friends had locked the doors, keeping guard, and closing the windows and blinds. Once you regained your composure you stared back at Seonghwa. This needed to end, which meant you also needed to stand up to him. So you held your head up high.

“What is your problem with me?”

“Good, I like it better when you don’t cower in fear.”

“Let go.”

“Or what?”

“I’ve let your bullshit slide for too long. Leave me alone or I’ll report you.”

Seonghwa laughed. “And what are you gonna say? You think they’ll listen to you over me?”

“You-”

“What evidence would you even have? It’s not like anything I do would leave a mark.”

“That’s not-”

    It all happened so fast you struggled to process it. One moment you were staring down Seonghwa, the next he had his fangs in your neck. You didn’t even struggle under him, a pleasurable feeling overwhelming your senses, but you eventually got a hold of yourself. You tried to get him off but he was way stronger than you, and you were losing strength by the second.

“Seonghwa…”

    When he pulled away you nearly collapsed to the floor, but he held you up. The world was spinning and you were sure you were on the verge of passing out. Still you tried to focus, ignoring the tingling feeling that lingered. You were trying to form words, but even keeping your eyes open were a struggle. You could vaguely make out Seonghwa’s face, his bloody lips, fangs poking out. He seemed content, licking his lips, and when your wound healed he ran his tongue along your neck to get the last few drops.

“You taste lovely.” Seonghwa whispered. “Imagine how much better you’d be if you ate properly.”

“You… you…”

“Sh, sh, sh, you’re fine. Just take a little nap for me, okay?”

“… why…”

“Close your eyes.”

    It was hard to fight it. The darkness was consuming you, and you were too weak to resist. Everything in your vision got blurry, and as you slipped under you could vaguely make out Seonghwa’s smiling face.

🖤

“Y/n! Y/n!”

    As you came to you could hear your voice being called. You slowly opened your eyes, seeing white, and then San was in your field of vision. He was relieved to see you had woken up.

“What… what happened… where am I?”

“I found you passed out in a classroom and brought you to the infirmary. You were a lot colder than usual. What happened?”

“I…”

    Everything slowly started coming back to you, and your hand shot up to your neck. You knew there wouldn’t be a mark, but you had to be sure. There was still a lingering feeling of the whole ordeal, and it brought so many more questions to mind. Vampires didn’t feed off humans directly, it wasn’t allowed given the addictive qualities of a vampire bite. It seemed the bite was pleasurable among their own kind too, which meant you couldn’t tell San about this. You were too embarrassed and you had no idea how he’d react.

“Y/n, are you okay?”

“Yeah. I’ve just been running around all day, and I didn’t eat enough. Must have finally hit. I didn’t mean to worry you.”

    San was giving you a weird look, and you were sure he had caught on that you were lying. You were trying to control yourself, knowing your heartbeat could give you away. Even if he did seem suspicious, he had no idea what had really happened, and wasn’t gonna push it any further. You were grateful for that. He walked with you to your next class, you did share most of your schedule after all, but you had forgotten Seonghwa was there too. You were worried he’d make some sort of comment, but luckily he kept away. Although you did look over at him, and he flashed you a cocky grin. You weren’t sure why he bit you, not really, but it was certainly proof that he could do anything to you and there wouldn’t be any evidence.

“Y/n, you good?”

“Huh? Fine.”

“If you’re still hungry I have extra blood bags in my locker.”

“No, I’m alright. Don’t wanna ruin my appetite.”

    You thought you could end things. That standing up to Seonghwa and showing him you weren’t afraid would finally make him stop. Instead you had a whole new problem with him. Now you were self conscious of having your neck exposed whenever you were alone. It had gotten chiller outside and you thought to wear a scarf but that drew unwanted attention.

“Are you cold? You’re a vampire though, we don’t get cold.”

“I know, just a fashion choice.”

“Why now?”

“Since it’s gotten colder out I thought I could change my wardrobe a bit. You don’t like it?”

“No, it’s great.” San assured. “Just curious.”

    You could tell San was suspicious of you, that you were keeping something from him, but he was being very respectful about it too. He trusted you would tell him when you were ready. Although you hoped you’d never have to. So you did your best to be normal, even if you could always feel Seonghwa’s gaze on you when he was nearby. You really couldn’t go on always looking over your shoulder, and you thought to confront him, but you weren’t sure you could do it alone. You wanted San at your side, but that involved telling him the truth, and if you did you were sure he wouldn’t keep a level head. So you were stuck, unsure of what to do. You had to do something soon though, before you went mad, or Seonghwa did something worse.

“Long day?”

    You were heading out by yourself, San staying behind for study hall when you came across Seonghwa. You hadn’t noticed him waiting by the doors, too lost in though until his voice pulled you out. You glanced over and tried to run off but he got in your way. As he stepped forward you stepped back, trying to think of something to do.

“Missed me? You’ve been clinging to San so much I was starting to think you didn’t like me.”

“What… what do you want…”

“I’m surprised you didn’t tell San what happened. At the same time I’m pleased. It’s our little secret.”

“Leave me alone.”

“And what makes you think I’m going to do that?”

“Cause you have no reason to be doing this… there are others like me but you don’t bother them.”

“They’re not you. Remember? You called me out. I like you.”

“Liar.”

“That hurts, but I’ll rectify that soon enough.”

“What-”

    Seonghwa took your hand, ripping your scarf off, and started dragging you along, back towards the school building. You tried to free yourself but his grip was tight, and the more you struggled the stronger his hold on you got. You thought to scream, but once you had been grabbed the rest of Seonghwa’s friends had surrounded you. Not like anyone else would care to help. You’ve been here long enough to know everyone liked Seonghwa, and no one really dared to cross him. What made you more nervous was that all his friends seemed excited about something. You wound up getting dragged down to the basement, taken into a room that seemed abandoned, but it certainly wasn’t empty.

“What… what is this? Seonghwa, please-”

“Don’t bother screaming, no one’s gonna hear you.”

“Seonghwa!”

    Now you were very afraid, your heart pounding in your chest.Whatever this was, it wasn't good, and you really didn't wanna find out what Seonghwa had prepared. Whatever this was, it wasn’t good, and you really didn’t wanna find out what Seonghwa had prepared. You started thrashing, hitting his arm, desperately trying to get him to release you. Escaping probably would have been impossible since you were outnumbered, but you had to try anyway. Before you knew it though Seonghwa yanked you so you stood before him, grabbing your other arm and pinning them both to your side. 

    He only gave you a smile before sinking his fangs into you. Any attempt to struggle was quickly beaten down, and Seonghwa’s grip on you finally loosen. He didn’t drink as heavily as before, just enough to make you pliable. He took in a satisfied breath when he pulled away from you, licking his lips and then pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“You’re gonna taste so much better.”

“Uh…”

    Somehow you were still on your feet, but certainly not stable. Seonghwa wasn’t holding you tight anymore, but he kept a hold of your arms to keep you steady. He carefully led you over to a chair, getting you to sit down. Your bite wound had already healed, and he licked up the bit of blood that remained.

“Just relax for me.”

    Even with the blood loss you were trying to regain your sense of self. You were giddy, and felt floaty, but this wasn’t the time to let your guard down. You tried to focus, but you couldn’t really do that until you were tied down. You vaguely watched as Jongho and Yeosang tied your arms and legs to the chair. you couldn’t really move, so this raised some flags.

“Wat... stop…”

“You don’t need to be scared.” Jongho stated. “You’ll be just fine.”

“It didn’t need to come to this if you had just listened to me from the start.” Seonghwa grabbed your chin, making your eyes meet. “But this is for the best.”

“What are you…”

“You’ll enjoy it.”

    Seonghwa stepped away, going over to a table. From where you were you couldn’t really see what was there, but you recognized the blood bags.

“Seonghwa…”

“One moment, love.”

    You were starting to feel more like yourself, gently tugging on your restraints to discover how much wiggle room you had, which was practically nothing. While you were haphazardly trying to come up with something you didn’t notice Seonghwa approach, not until he grabbed your face and pulled your gaze up to him.

“Let’s try not to be wasteful.” Seonghwa held up a blood bag. “Okay.”

“No... no, no, Seonghwa…”

“You’ll thank me later.”

    You shut your mouth tight, or as tight as you could with your strength. Seonghwa chuckled, finding your actions cute, but that wasn’t going to stop him. You could feel the tears building up, trying to prepare for the worst when you suddenly heard a loud crash. Seonghwa stopped, and despite the weird position, you managed to see San. He had broken the door down, breathing heavily as he stood up and took in the scene.

“San…”

    You had no idea how he found you all the way down here, but you were terrified as to what Seonghwa would do to him. The others had gathered around San, but didn’t do anything, not without Seonghwa’s say.

“What the fuck are you doing to her!”

“I told you that if you got in my way again, you’d pay dearly.”

“Let her go this instant!”

“Grab him.”

    Seonghwa released you, placing the blood bag back on the table. You watched as San tussled with the other boys, clearly outnumbered and soon enough overpowered. Mingi and Yunho dragged him over, keeping him on his knees.

“I didn’t think you’d find me down here, but you’re full of surprises.” Seonghwa opened a case that had been on the table. “I came prepared though, as I’m one to keep my word.”

    Seonghwa put on some gloves and grabbed a silver dagger from the case. He ran the blade across his cheek, the wound healing instantaneously without a drop of blood spilling.

“Our power is truly amazing, isn’t it. Although it’s a shame some of you seem satisfied with just a fraction of it.”

“We’re all the same!” San yelled. “Don’t think you’re all high and mighty because you drink human blood.”

“But I am high and mighty. I’m better than you, but I won’t hold that over you forever.”

    Seonghwa grabbed a jar from the case as well, setting it on the table and unscrewing the lid. You could all see the cross on it, and you knew what it was, holy water. Seonghwa dipped the blade into the water, letting it soak a bit before pulling it out and sealing the jar. He walked over to San, the others holding him still.

“What are you doing?!” San hissed. “Are you going to kill me? Is this how I’ll pay dearly?”

“Hardly.” Seonghwa knelt down, placing a hand on San’s shoulders. “We’re going to be good friends, you and I.”

    With a devilish grin Seonghwa dug the blade into San’s chest. You heard San scream in agony, causing you great distress. You pulled against your restraints, screaming at Seonghwa to leave him alone. Seonghwa didn’t care for your cries, twisting the knife and digging it in deeper. San was released as the blade was dragged up and pulled out, causing him to collapse to the floor, blood pooling around him. Somehow he managed to get on his hands and knees, coughing up blood as he grabbed his wound.

“Choi San, you know I liked you better when you knew your place and didn’t cross me. Don’t worry though, you’ll heal.” Seonghwa stated. “But not fast enough to save your life. At least not on your current diet.”

    Seonghwa put the bloody blade back into the case, grabbing a blood bag and throwing it to the ground before San. He grabbed another and walked back over to you. Tears were streaming down your face, and you refused to look at Seonghwa, but he grabbed your face and forced your eyes to meet.

“He made you cry again.”

“You… monster…”

“You haven’t seen a monster. Not yet.”

    Seonghwa tore open the blood bag, spilling its contents all over your chest. You didn’t get any on your face, but the smell alone was making you light headed. You tried to keep your focus though, worried about San. Seonghwa wiped some blood on your neck, placing a soft kiss on your head before looking back at San.

“If you don’t drink that blood, you will die.” Seonghwa reminded. “Are you really going to make y/n watch?”

“Fuck… you…”

“Hm. Well, I’m not gonna make her witness such a thing.”

    Seonghwa stalked over grabbing the blood bag off the floor and grabbing San’s face. He flashed his fangs, eyes glowing red, biting into the blood bag and pouring the contents down San’s throat.

“I really didn’t want any blood to go to waste.”

    San gagged, choking on the blood, but despite his efforts it went down, and it tasted divine. When he had enough strength he grabbed the bag from Seonghwa, drinking down the last drops. Seonghwa chuckled and got up, tossing another bag to the floor, which San eagerly grabbed and drank.

“San…” You were choking back more tears. “San…”

“He’s not listening right now, love.” Seonghwa said. “Tasting human blood for the first time can be quite an experience. For someone like him, it’s quite a frenzy. All he wants is more and more, can’t even tell the difference between his own kind and humans.”

“Huh?”

“San, over here boy.”

    Seonghwa caught San’s attention, which in turn drew San’s eyes to you. All he could smell was the blood on you, human blood, and that’s all he cared to know. Before you knew it San was digging his fangs into your neck. You screamed out, horrified that your friend was doing this to you, but you were soon choking on your own tears.

“San… San…”

    You hadn’t fully recovered from Seonghwa, and now San was draining you, and fast. Your vision was going black, and you knew you’d pass out soon enough. Before that happened though Seonghwa pulled San off of you, meeting his eyes and chuckling.

“She tastes good doesn’t she?”

    Seonghwa shoved San back, dropping him to the floor. The boy tried to lunge for you again, but Mingi and Wooyoung grabbed him, holding him back. Seonghwa ordered them to take him away, and you vaguely saw a feral San being dragged off. Once they were gone Seonghwa grabbed your face, looking down on you with a soft smile on his lips.

“We’ll finish this later. I have a new friend to look after.”

    Seonghwa drew his claws and cut the ropes, grabbing his case and leaving. You tried to stand up, to go after them, but you collapsed to the floor, lucky enough to avoid any blood. You rolled over and stared up at the ceiling. You weren’t going to be moving anytime soon, so you let the darkness take you. You’d come up with a plan once you had enough strength.

🖤

    You opened your eyes, finding yourself in a familiar unfamiliar place, the infirmary. You quickly sat up, noticing that your clothes were clean, and the smell of blood was completely gone. Without thinking you got up, finding Hongjoong on the other side of the curtain playing on his phone. When he saw you he offered you a smile.

“You’re up.”

“Where’s San!”

“You don’t have to worry about him. He’s fine.”

“Where is he!”

“Get home safe.”

    Hongjoong got up, intending to leave, but you weren’t done with him. You grabbed him, only for him to grab your arm in return, getting you to let him go. He did it all with a kind smile on his face too.

“See you tomorrow.”

    You were all alone, still trying to process, trying to figure out where to go. Once you had an idea you grabbed your things. The sun was barely setting, but you weren’t heading out just yet. You went down to the basement, finding the room you had been held hostage in. It was spotless, nothing out of place, and not a whiff of blood. They cleaned up all the evidence so fast. So it didn’t matter if you reported the situation, which meant you needed to find San. Your sense of smell wasn’t as good as others, and you certainly weren’t attuned to San’s scent, which you cursed yourself out for. That left you with one option.

    You headed out, going to the only place you could think, San’s home. You had walked him there once, after a long afternoon of studying. When you got there you knocked on the door, but there was no response, so you thought to stay. For a couple hours you waited for him, wanting him to come back safe and sound, but given how you saw him last time, you were worried. As it got late you realized he wouldn’t be home, which meant you had to go. Surely you’d see him at school tomorrow, so you just had to wait. You stayed up all night, couldn’t even bring yourself to eat anything, just waiting for the sun.

    For the first time ever you were the first student of your class at school. Even then all you could do was wait until the others arrived, hoping San was among them. Guilt was eating you alive, and you just wanted to know if he was alright. You did doze off a bit, somehow, but were woken up by a loud commotion. You snapped awake, seeing Seonghwa and his friends messing around with each other, but more importantly you saw San walking in. He seemed to be alright, he was smiling, and you scrambled out of your seat, going over to him and hugging him tight.

“San!”

    He was a bit taken aback by the sudden hug, but he happily embraced you. The tears began to flow, and he gently pet your head, trying to shush you.

“It’s okay, everything’s okay.”

“I’m so sorry, this is all my fault.”

“Easy, you’re not to blame.”

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

“Don’t cry. I’m alright.”

“What happened? You were hurt and-”

“Are you okay though?” San questioned. “I hurt you without meaning to. I wasn’t in my right mind then, but I am now.”

“I know that wasn’t you. I’ve just been worried about you.”

“There’s no need to be.”

“I’ll do better. I won’t let this happen. Let’s go to the teachers and-”

“No.”

“Wa… what?”

“Y/n, I was wrong. I thought I was living well, but that’s not the case anymore.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“Seonghwa helped me out last night. He opened my eyes to the truth.”

“Huh?”

    Seonghwa suddenly came up to you from behind, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. You were still processing, refusing to accept the obvious conclusion.

“I told you, human blood is what we truly need.” Seonghwa stated. “I’m glad I could get San to understand that.”

“No… you forced that stuff down his throat! You-”

Seonghwa covered your mouth. “Easy there, love. We’re just having a polite conversation here, aren’t we?”

“It’s okay.” San said. “The circumstances weren’t the best, but that doesn’t change the fact that he was right. I feel so much better now, like I’m complete.”

    You shook your head, getting Seonghwa to move his hand away. Once he did you shoved him back, stepping away from the group that had been surrounding you.

“You’re not San, this isn’t you.”

“It is, it’s who I’ve always been.”

“They hurt you!”

“I wouldn’t listen to reason, but you should.”

“No, no you’re not San… you’re not…”

    You ran out of the room in tears, needing a place to be alone. This was all your fault. You knew Seonghwa wasn’t gonna leave you alone and you knew San was going to keep interfering, and yet you let him do that. It cost him dearly, and the boy you saw now wasn’t him. You found a quiet room to cry in, letting yourself come to terms with your new reality. You missed your first two classes, not sure if you even wanted to go back, but you had to. You couldn’t just run away like before. As you returned you told the teacher you had been in the infirmary, which they accepted. You tried to focus, on occasion looking over at San. 

    He seemed just like his old self like this, and for a while you could delude yourself into thinking yesterday didn’t happen. Yet when the bell rang you remembered the truth. San hung out with Seonghwa, everyone seemed like long time friends. When they glanced your way you quickly rushed out, going to the lunchroom knowing they wouldn’t follow you. That day you ate alone, and it was worse than back at your old school. Even San’s other friends figured his sudden change was your fault, and you wouldn’t disprove them. This was all just a reminder of how alone you were. Although you couldn’t just let this go without consequences. You went to the teachers office.

“I… I don’t understand.”

“Seonghwa made San drink human blood. I was there, and now… San’s different. Aren’t you going to do anything?”

“So that’s why San changed his diet, because of Seonghwa?”

“Yes.”

“Well it is for the best.”

“What?”

“Apologies. I mean no disrespect to your dietary choices, but human blood is very beneficial. If San has changed his diet due to another student’s recommendation, that’s his choice.”

“But he was forced… you’re not going to do anything, are you?”

“What exactly do you want me to do?”

    Without evidence you couldn’t just tell them you had been taken and tied down, and San was severely hurt in the process. As far as they were concerned Seonghwa had a chat with San and convinced him, nothing wrong with that even though you knew that wasn’t the truth. You sulked back to your class, feeling defeated. This place was worse than your old school, you wished you had never come here.

“Ya!”

    You were wallowing in your own defeat when you were yanked into an empty classroom. You didn’t care anymore, letting yourself get tossed around. Whatever pain you felt, it was deserved. You met Seonghwa’s eyes, seeing that he was annoyed.

“What were you doing in the teachers office?”

“Nothing…”

“I don’t believe you. Now talk.”

“There’s nothing you need to worry about. I told them you’re the reason San changed his diet. They were actually happy to hear he was eating better. Maybe they’ll give you an award.”

Seonghwa chuckled. “Didn’t I tell you this would happen?”

“Are we done here?”

“Yes. With transgressions settled we should talk about your health. You see how San is doing. He’s much better now, isn’t he?”

“Fuck you.”

“You better watch your mouth.”

“You win okay, you’ve made your point. Now leave me alone.”

“This isn’t over.”

“Well it is for me. You’ve made it clear I don’t belong anywhere…”

    You stormed out of the room before Seonghwa could think to do anything more. You got your things from your locker, opting to hide out until classes were over so you could leave. When you got home you locked yourself in the bathroom, sitting under the shower head and letting yourself get soaked. It hid your tears and sobbing. You felt like such a terrible person, a terrible friend. The only person you felt you could even call a friend in the last decade or so of your existence was taken from you, and it was all your fault. You tried so hard to live your life peacefully but it was becoming clear that wasn’t possible for you. It would be best to start over, and just keep to yourself. It’d be lonely, but that was better than getting others hurt.

🖤

“Has anyone seen y/n?”

    Seonghwa glanced back at your seat. It was going on day three of you being absent. There was no official statement about you dropping out or transferring, but this didn’t seem like you at all. You kept up your grades, regardless of your peers. Perhaps his antics had gone too far. That was on him as he was always told not to play with his food. Still, he wasn’t gonna let this go either.

“I believe she hasn’t been feeling well.” Mingi stated. “She should return soon.”

“Getting sick isn’t common for our kind.”

“We’ll check on her after classes.” Seonghwa volunteered. “Promise.”

“Alright. We’ll continue then.”

    It would have been easy to get his hands on your file to find your address, but he had San now so it was less trouble. After school the eight of them went to your apartment. Some things were stacked at the door and Seonghwa was starting to get irritated. He politely knocked, but that got no response. He tried again, more aggressive and calling out your name but nothing. He tried listening but it sounded like the place was empty. Without thinking he kicked in the door, stepping inside. The others followed, and they all spread out. He would have thought no one was home, but he soon enough found you on the living room floor wrapped up in blankets, a mess of papers around you. Hongjoong and San picked some up, looking them over.

“She looks to be studying for a GED.” Hongjoong reported. “Or at least doing research on how to get one.”

“These seem to be job listings.” San added. “She’s really gonna drop out cause of me…”

“Not you, me.” Seonghwa stated. “Might have pushed the little thing too much. I should have just cut to it.”

    Seonghwa knelt down, seeing a half eaten blood bag around. You weren’t getting proper meals from school anymore, and were probably rationing what little bit you had at home. He did feel guilty for playing around with you for as long as he did. It wouldn’t have gone so far if San hadn’t gotten involved, but he didn’t mind the new friend. He reached over and pet your head.

“Y/n, wake up.”

    You groaned, slowly lifting your head up and peeking your eyes open. You could vaguely make out Seonghwa before you, confused. You hadn’t been eating much, so you were certain this wasn’t real.

“Seonghwa... what are you doing here…”

“I don’t know, why don’t you tell me.”

“Why would I... hallucinate you…”

“I’m a hallucination?”

“Why else would you... be here…”

“Good question. Why would you hallucinate me?”

“I don’t know... cause I liked you... at one point…”

“Did you now?”

“You were... nice… thought we… could be friends…”

“Me too.”

“Huh?”

“Go back to sleep for me, okay. Just close your eyes and go back to sleep.”

“Hm… okay.”

    You laid your head back down, closing your eyes. To you it was just a dream that would fade in your memory. For Seonghwa though, it was confirmation on what he needed to do. He carefully pulled back the blankets, not wanting to wake you.

“Let’s go.”

“Are you taking her home?” San asked.

“Something like that.”

🖤

    The boys always followed Seonghwa without question, even San had quickly fallen into the fold. Wherever they were heading, it made the others excited, but San was curious. He had yet to know everything that goes on with Seonghwa. They had driven to the city, going into an alleyway. The keys were handed over and Seonghwa stepped up to a door, knocking.

“Who is it?”

“A friendly face.”

    A slot in the metal door opened up, revealing red glowing eyes. Seonghwa offered up a smile, his eyes matching the crimson color.

“Identification.”

“Of course.”

    Seonghwa held up his hand, using his claws to cut deep into his wrist, enough to properly draw blood. As it flowed down his arm a symbol began to glow. The gentleman behind the door closed the peep hole, and unlocked the entrance, opening it and gesturing for Seonghwa to enter. Although when the doorman realized your unconscious body in Yunho’s arm he stopped Seonghwa.

“No outside food.”

“She’ll be dining with us tonight.”

“Fledglings aren’t allowed either.”

“I know, and she’s not one. It is her first time though, so congratulate her on her awakening.” Seonghwa pushed the gentleman aside. “I hope my usual room is available.”

“Of course.”

“Oh, and remember the little favors I brought in before. I’d like them now.”

“Yes, sir.”

    Seonghwa led his people to a VIP lounge, having Yunho set you down on the couch. The others had been there before, immediately going over to the open bar and getting some drinks.

“Everything is laced with blood, so take it easy, San. We’re still working on your blood lust.”

“I know.”

    Everyone got themselves a drink, settling around the room. Seonghwa sat by you, letting you rest your head in his lap. He pet your hair for a while, letting you rest. Although you had to wake up at some point. Seonghwa took a sip of his glass, and then held it up to your nose.

“Hm…”

“Wake up, darling.”

“Uh…”

    You groggily opened your eyes, slowly trying to take in your surroundings. You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Where…” This place was completely unfamiliar. “What the hell…”

“It’s good to see you.”

    Your gaze snapped over to the voice, seeing Seonghwa at your side. He raised his glass to you with a smile and took a sip. Now you were wide awake, seeing all the others around the room drinking, even San.

“What… what is this place?”

“My go-to, it’s quite wonderful.”

“Wait… how am I here? I was at home… how did you-”

“San walked you home a few times, so we knew where to go.” Seonghwa finished his drink. “You’ve been missing school. That’s very unlike you.”

“How would you know?”

“Were you really planning on running away?”

“That’s none of your concern.”

“Oh, but it is. How could I let such a pretty thing get away from me.”

“Maybe if you had been nicer-”

“That wouldn’t change anything. My kindness would leave you just as weak, and just as vulnerable as you’ve always been.”

“And being a dick was supposed to help me?”

“I’ll admit, I took it too far. I never intended for someone else to get involved.” Seonghwa glanced over at San for a moment. “I don’t mind the extra company though. He’s coming along nicely, and so will you.”

“I already told you to leave me alone. This is kidnapping!”

“You already saw how reporting me to the teachers went, you think this will be any different?”

“I’m leaving.”

    You got up to leave, and Seonghwa called out for someone to come in. As you reached the door they suddenly opened by themselves, three girls stepping in. Their eyes were glassy, and you could tell they weren’t fully aware of what was going on, but what stood out was that you recognized them. They were your old classmates, the ones who had always picked on you.

“What… what is this?”

“A gift.”

“Gift?”

“They’re not gonna do anything to you, but you are free to do anything with them.”

“What?! You think I want something like this?”

“Yes, I’m aware you refuse to listen to reason, so we’ll do this my way.”

“Your way involves kidnapping. Last time you tried to shove human blood down my throat!”

“San took that for you, what a hero.” 

“Asshole.”

“Aren’t you tired, love?” Seonghwa asked. “Of being weak and defenseless. You remained that way at your old school so you could stay there, so you wouldn’t hurt anyone. Yet you were punished for it, and had to hold yourself together for the sake of peace, but tell me, what have humans done for peace?”

“You may hate humans for whatever reason, but I’m not like you!”

“I don’t hate them, I just know I’m better than them. You are too, even in your weakened state, but you can be just as great as I am.”

“I don’t want it!”

“Why!” Seonghwa snapped. “I can not understand any of you who refuse human blood. That is our true source of life, the source of our power, and yet you deny your instincts as if that makes you better than the rest of us!”

“I don’t think I’m better than you!”

“Then why do you deny your true nature?”

“Because I’m afraid…”

“What? You’re afraid? What do you have to fear?”

“… turning into a monster…”

“You said something like that when we first met. Are the rest of us in this room monsters?”

“I may have gone to a human school, but I did study vampire history. There are those of us who struggle to control their hunger. They wind up locked up… and if they can’t control themselves… they’re killed…”

“You think you’ll turn into some monster?”

“I don’t know. But I’m not going to take that chance, so I won’t drink human blood.”

“Oh, y/n, you don’t have to be afraid.” Seonghwa came up to you, taking your hands in his. “I’ll be right here to make sure you don’t lose control. Just as I watch over my boys, as I watch over San. We’ll all look after you.”

    You didn’t know what to do anymore. You had laid yourself out bare for Seonghwa and the others to see. Admitting to your fears. You knew Seonghwa’s words weren’t a lie. Despite what he had done to San he hadn’t left the boy to suffer or cause trouble. They got along just like friends. Seonghwa gently tugged you along, closer to one of the girls. He bit into her neck, getting a small taste before pulling away and licking his lips. He pulled you closer, the smell of fresh blood hitting you, making you a bit dizzy.

“You’ll love it.”

“We… we’re not supposed to feed off humans… the bite…”

“These humans have been here a while. You’d be doing them a favor.”

“What?”

“Come on now. You’ve wondered why I’ve done everything I have, and it’s been for this. You shouldn’t be weak, letting others walk all over you. I want you to be powerful, I want you to be true to yourself.”

    Your throat felt dry, and you swallowed nervously. Things have changed for you. There wasn’t much reason to fear your nature. You took a step forward, drawing out your fangs. Seonghwa gave you a smile, gently tilting the girls head to the side to expose her neck more. In the moment you desperately wanted to sink your fangs in. To know what it felt like to drink fresh blood, to drink human blood, to feel powerful, but you stepped back, shutting your eyes.

“No…”

“Hm?”

“I won’t…”

“Y/n, you don’t have to be scared. I won’t let you turn into a monster.”

“And I believe that, but this is still my choice. I don’t want to drink human blood. You should respect that.”

Seonghwa scoffed. “I thought for sure this approach would suit you better, but I see I’ve just wasted my time again.”

“I do appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but this is where I must refuse you.”

“That’s not an option. Grab her.”

“Seonghwa!”

    You only took a few steps before Yeosang and Wooyoung were holding you in place. You weren’t as strong as them, and far weaker now, but that never stopped you from fighting. Wherever you were now, you were completely at Seonghwa’s mercy. You were scared of turning into a monster, but you were afraid of Seonghwa as well.

“Let me go! Seonghwa! This isn’t right! You can’t just force someone to do something they don’t want!”

“You’re right, but this is for your own good.”

“Seonghwa!”

“San thanked me in the end, you will too.”

    Seonghwa sunk his fangs into the girl again, drinking heavily. When he pulled away she collapsed to the floor. He took in a deep breath, his lips stained with blood. As he approached you leaned back, trying to avoid him, but you could only go so far.

“This will be so good.”

    Seonghwa took your head in his hands and pulled you into a deep kiss. You tried not to give in, but the second you tasted blood your eyes went wide. You were suddenly kissing back, wanting more and more of this sweet taste. The two who were holding you let go, allowing Seonghwa to pull you closer. It was so easy to get lost in the taste, in him, but as the blood on his lips disappeared, you came back to your senses. You were soon horrified by your actions, trying to move away from Seonghwa but he had his arms wrapped around you.

“What’s wrong? Didn’t you enjoy that?”

“No… no, no, no!”

    You started squirming in Seonghwa’s grasp, but he didn’t intend on letting you go. You already had a taste, and going back was practically impossible. He had won, but you didn’t want to give in. If he wasn’t going to let you go you opted to continue with your plans regardless. You stuck your fingers down your throat, wanting to throw up the blood before you truly took it in. 

“Ah, ah, none of that!”

    Seonghwa quickly pulled your hand away and turned you around, having your back pressed against his chest. He placed his hand over your mouth, his other arm around your waist and holding you still. You tried to move his hand away, but forced your head back against his shoulder, giving you little room to move.

“Just let it happen, baby. You’re going to be much happier.”

    You had tears streaming down your face, not wanting to admit to any of this. You still had a chance, you kept telling yourself that. Even with the little bit of human blood you had, your strength wasn’t at his level. If you wanted him to let you go, you needed to try something else. You managed to move his hand just enough so you could draw your fangs and bite him. Your actions caught him off guard and he let you go. You collapsed to the floor, coughing and spitting out blood, then it hit you and you froze.

“Aish, you’re a little psycho, aren’t you? Leave her.” Seonghwa ordered his boys to stay where they were. “She won’t be trouble anymore. Isn’t that right?”

“Why… why does…” Blood was dripping out of your mouth. “… why is… your blood… sweeter… than humans…”

“You already know the answer. You said you studied our history.”

“That’s… impossible…”

“Is it?”

“Your kind was wiped out.”

“Oh please, that’s what we wanted you all to believe. As if you could get rid of us.”

“You can’t be!”

“Perhaps I should have snuck you my blood beforehand. It would have made things easier, but I did want you to make the right choice in the end. You didn’t, but that’s alright.”

“…”

“There’s no point denying it or worrying about the truth. You won’t tell anyone, I won’t let you.”

“You can’t… you can’t be…”

“Come here.” Seonghwa said. “Crawl to me.”

    You couldn’t say no, looking over to see that Seonghwa had gotten a drink and sat down. You crawled over to him, keeping your head down. When you got to him you got on your knees.

“Look at me, love.” You raised your gaze to him. “Still don’t believe me?”

“When you said… I wouldn’t turn into a monster…”

“I meant it. It’s my gift after all. The power of a royal vampire, able to control humans like others, but also vampires, once they have a taste of royal blood that is. All it takes is a drop. Incredible, isn’t it?”

“…”

“You don’t have to be afraid. I’m not going to hurt you, that was never my goal. I just wanted you to be true to yourself.”

“You mean a real vampire.”

“One in the same.”

“So I was right… you are a monster…”

Seonghwa laughed. “Say what you want. I’ll wipe away all those pesky thoughts of yours soon enough.”

“San… and the others, they’ve all-”

“Had a taste of my blood, yes. It’s important to keep order.”

“You’re controlling them!”

“They listen to me, love, I don’t control every action of theirs.”

“Same thing, isn’t it?”

“Hm, you really do have quite a mouth.”

“This is why your kind shouldn’t exist! You’re all just power hungry monsters who take whatever they want without consequence! Your kind is the reason-”

“Silence! You shouldn’t be babbling on about things you know nothing about! You think the way we live now maintains peace between vampires and humans? Don’t kid yourself. You’ve suffered first hand because of those creatures. They are beneath you.”

“And so am I, aren’t I?”

“You shouldn’t sell yourself short. I went through a lot of trouble for you.”

    Seonghwa had one of the other girls come to his side. He bit into her neck, getting a good mouth full before moving away.

“Things will change one day.” Seonghwa ran his fingers along the wound, licking the blood off them. “And proper order will be restored to this world.”

“You-”

“Come here, have a drink. I know you want to, so give in.”

    Your throat was suddenly dry again, and the world was starting to fade. All you could hear was the heart beat of the girl, salivating by merely thinking of the blood in her veins. Despite your best efforts to hold yourself together you moved towards the human, exposing your fangs. Seonghwa happily watched you, whispering encouraging things as you bit into the girls neck. Your mouth was immediately filled with sweet blood, and you swallowed it down with ease. You shut your eyes as you drank, the action feeling natural to you, and every gulp was making you feel so good. You had no intention of stopping, but Seonghwa eventually pulled you off, wiping the blood off your lips with his thumb, getting a taste for himself afterwards.

“Easy now, I can’t have you killing the little thing. We have to be careful of our precious livestock here.”

“This place…”

“Sh, it’s nothing to worry about.” Seonghwa pulled you into his lap. “All you have to do is be happy. You’re free now. No need to be afraid, no need to pretend that you actually care about humans.”

“I…”

“Sh, sh, sh… I’ve been waiting so long for this.” 

    Seonghwa ripped into your shirt, exposing your neck. He inhaled your scent, noting the changes. He drew his fangs, running them along your neck before taking a bite. A soft moan escaped your lips. He had bitten you before, but this felt different, this felt better. You let the feeling consume you, the edges of your vision going dark as Seonghwa pulled away. He was breathing heavily, grabbing your chin to see your little blissed out expression.

“Just as I imagined, you taste divine. Don’t worry, darling, I’ll give you what you want too.”

    Seonghwa pulled you in for a kiss, sharing a taste of you. He watched you for a moment before pulling your head closer to his neck.

“Go on now, you know what to do.”

    Even in your daze you’d recognize his scent, his heartbeat, and you wanted to taste him again. You sunk your fangs into Seonghwa’s neck, practically moaning as you drank from him. He held your head, petting you, his own blissed out smile present on his face. Seonghwa wanted you from the moment he laid eyes on you. He could have had you at any moment, but he wanted you to choose him. Things had gone way off course, but he knew you had picked him in the end. So what came next didn’t matter much, you were his.

“Good girl… that’s a good girl…”

[m3nt4llyr4v3d]

As much as I have opinions on how Miraculous goes about its writing, damn are the ideas it brings up so juicy

Like I feel like there’s something to be sad about how everyone deals with their problems or their trauma. Like, so many of the characters have issues, and it’s so fascinating to think about the way they respond to them

Marinette has the entire safety of Paris on her shoulders and basically in a constant state of trying to fix things even when it shouldn’t be her problem in the first place

Adrien was raised to be as obedient as possible and doesn’t know jack about how to be a kid, literally has no ambitions at the moment, he’s constantly apologizing for things that feasibly wouldn’t be his fault and trying to fit whatever mold he thinks someone wants of him

Chloe’s mom left her and is verbally abusive and calling her daughter a failure for the entirety of Paris to see, so she lashes out at everyone around her and constantly uses her dad’s power. Also the fact that two fully grown adults manipulate her before she’s sent away, just awful

Nino’s best friend has the worst dad imaginable and he felt powerless about the situation wanting to help Adrien (seriously I hope they bring up Guilttrip sometime in the future it reveals a lot of really concerning things about the characters), so he tries to be the best bro to him and give him every experience he can

No idea what happened to Lila as her backstory is uhhhhhh, but that lying, the disguises (she literally came to school in one), and the fake identities had to have come from somewhere. I remember, before the whole 3-moms-thing, theories about her lying for attention because her mom is never home and she’s genuinely lonely, using a scene where she’s talking with Nino and looks actually upset as evidence, so that’s something to consider

Luka’s dad left, and he basically became everyone’s therapist, which he really really really shouldn’t be. We’re told he’s this chill, go with the flow dude, but when your response when hearing your current girlfriend (or at least the in between friend and gf) still likes someone else and saying “I already know that”, that’s just concerning. Dude’s everyone’s therapist, but is anyone checking on him?

Juleka has anxiety and still has unresolved issues with her dad leaving and coming back and (my memory is fuzzy here) not really interacting with her? She’s quiet and keeps a lot of emotions just bottled up cause she doesn’t express them verbally

This is stuff off the top of my head, but damn. As much flack I like to give to this show, thinking about stuff like this is what keeps that little part of me who loved the show years ago alive. Like, I genuinely don’t care what some of the characters have done, I think all of them need a hug and as much therapy as possible

[johnsbleu]

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 169

Author’s Note: This chapter might be a little heavy for some people, so I’m putting a warning out there. This chapter deals with abuse, specifically child abuse, verbal abuse, and mental abuse. While there are no actual scenes of this happening, but there are conversations around it. So please be advised and just know that if this could potentially trigger you, it would be best if you don’t read. I only want the best for you all. I won’t be offended if you need to sit this one out 💖

warnings: slight nsfw moments, mentions of child abuse hmh masterlist

Today is errand day for you, so you dropped Ronan off with your mom since she was asking to take her--her new friends were bringing their grandkids to the park and she insisted on bringing Ronan. You love when Ronan tags along for errand days but you didn’t want your mom to be the only without her grandchild, so you dropped her off.

Since you got everything done, you were running ahead of schedule which meant you had time to stop into Jimmy’s shop. Of course you love stopping in every now and then to see Jimmy--you’ve even brought him lunch--but right now there’s a dark haired, brown eyed man that is probably sitting down in the office that you desperately want to see. Hopefully he wants to see you just as bad.

“Hey, Logan,” you smile as you walk into Jimmy’s workshop, and he jogs over to hug you. “How are things?”

Logan shrugs, “Great at work.”

“Yeah…” you nod sympathetically, “I heard you’re doing really well here.”

“I really like it. Mr. Hendricks is teaching me a lot.”

Jimmy scoffs as he walks up beside you with John next to him, “Come on, man. Mr. Hendricks is my father.”

You roll your eyes and laugh as you look at John, giving him a small wave. He wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer to hug you. You haven’t seen him since this morning since he came to the shop to help Jimmy with some things.

“I better get back to work,” Logan says, and you smile at him before he turns and walks back over to what looks like a desk he’s working on with another guy.

“How’s he doing here?”

Jimmy nods, “Great. He’s a great kid. He’s picking up everything, but I think he’s having trouble at home.”

“Yeah,” John nods, looking down at you, “He came over the other day when you were gone. I was home, just working in the yard. He’s been hanging around more often--not that we mind. We told him we’re cool with it, but…”

You bite your cheek as you look over at Logan.

It’s no secret that Logan doesn’t have the best home life. When the accident happened and you spoke with his parents, they were so mean to him. Greg, his dad, was clearly an asshole, and neither you nor John liked the way he talked to Logan. He got a job working with Jimmy and has just absolutely excelled at everything there. Jimmy speaks so highly of him and his ability to pick things up quickly, along with his willingness to learn.

Ever since the accident, Logan has been working at the shop with Jimmy, but he still stops by your place. He’ll hang out with John and learn stuff about bookbinding, he’ll tend to the yard with him, he’ll even play with Ronan. You came home one day and he was in the pool with her swimming while John was making steaks on the grill.

You trust him. He’s a great kid! There was even a time when something came up and you called him last minute to babysit Ronan. You were only gone for three hours, but he was more than happy to come watch her, and she loves him. She always runs to him whenever she sees him. He’s become a part of your lives now and you’re all incredibly protective of him.

“He always is very adamant about putting his bike in the garage,” Jimmy says, waving for you to walk with him to his office, “I think he’s telling his parents he’s going for a bike ride, but he’s actually coming over to our place. He showed up the other day and Tess said he was just so withdrawn.”

“John and I have noticed the bike thing too,” you say, sitting down in John’s lap when he sits in the chair, “He brought it into the backyard one day.”

John rubs your side, “Maybe we should just keep an eye on him?”

“Yeah,” Jimmy sighs, looking out at Logan, “He’s a great kid. I know that Greg is a piece of shit, so…let’s definitely keep an eye on him.”

You all sit in silence for a few moments before John bounces you on his knee to get you to look at him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, I can’t just stop by and see my brother-in-law.”

Jimmy laughs, “You did not come here to see me.”

“I have before!”

“Okay, that’s true.” he laughs, nodding his head before he looks at John, “She even brought me lunch.”

You smile proudly as you look at John, “Yes, I did!”

“You never bring me lunch,” John says, and you scrunch your face up as he laughs. “Okay, yeah, you do.”

“I was just driving by after running some errands and saw your car out front and wanted to stop by.”

John laughs, “I’m about to leave in an hour or so.”

“Oh, okay, wow…” you get off his lap and roll your eyes playfully, “I guess next time I won’t come visit you.”

“Stop,” he laughs, pulling you back to him, “You can come visit me anytime.”

Jimmy laughs, “Not me though. Gonna put a sign up with your picture on it that says ‘keep this woman off these premises.’”

“Okay, then I’ll never make that casserole that you like again.” you cross your arms and watch Jimmy widen his eyes as John laughs, “Yeah, two can play that game.”

“Forgive me.” he says, and you all start to laugh.

John reaches up and rubs his thumb over your eyebrow, “Did you get your eyebrows waxed or something? They’re a little red.”

“I did,” you touch your brow, “She put some stuff over it but it’s still really sore.”

“And you got a haircut,” John says, running his fingers through the length of your hair, “You look great, baby.”

You didn’t do anything major to your hair, but you did get about three inches cut off, just the dead stuff. It doesn’t matter if it’s just a small trim, John always notices. He genuinely pays attention to you, it blows your mind.

You scratch your nails against John’s scalp, “I got all my errands done, but now I’m gonna head over to the store and grab some things for tonight. Can you get Ro?”

“Yeah,” he nods, and you lean down to kiss him a few times. When you’re close enough, John whispers, “Thank you for coming to see me. I wanted to see you too.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” you smile at him, then you playfully narrow your eyes at Jimmy and point at him, “Watch yourself.”

Jimmy does the same thing back, “Yeah, you too.”

Looking over at John, you smile as sweet as you can, “I love you, baby.”

“I love you,” he laughs as Jimmy jokingly crosses his arms and shakes his head.

You give them both a wave before you walk back out to the shop. You spot Logan, so you wave at him again when he looks at you. He smiles and waves back, then he goes back to what he’s doing as you head out to your car.

__

Laughter bursts from the backyard as everyone sits around and eats. John made a ton of food, so everyone’s stuffing their faces. Amanda brought over a bunch of desserts too, and you can’t wait to get your hands on those.

“Gotta pee,” you whisper to John, then you hop up and head inside, smiling when you walk past all the kids playing in the grass. You quickly use the bathroom and wash your hands before you turn the corner to head to the backyard, but something catches your eye. You furrow your brow and lean over more to see Logan walking down the driveway. You quickly rush to the door and open it, “Logan, what are you doing out here?”

“Oh, I just…” he takes a few steps back towards the house, “I just wanted to…never mind. You’re all busy.”

You laugh, waving him over, “I mean what are you doing out here? We’re all in the back. Come on, there’s tons of food.”

Logan nods his head and walks up to the house with his head down. He’s recently gotten a haircut so his hair isn’t so floppy and you can actually see his face, and you immediately notice the busted lip he’s sporting.

“Hey,” you put your hand on his shoulder and look at him, “What happened to your lip?”

“Oh,” he chuckles, avoiding your gaze, “Just work. Wasn’t paying attention.”

You watch him closely when he glances at you, “Oh…okay.”

Keeping a close eye on Logan, you follow behind him through the kitchen to the backyard. He grabs a plate and starts to put food on it, and you quickly look away when he looks at you. You smile and reach for Ronan when she toddles over to you, immediately lifting her up and hugging her. Your eyes wander back over to Logan as he sits down at the table where Amanda’s nephew is--he’s staying with them while he looks at a few colleges out here.

“Hey,” John comes up the steps and smiles as he reaches out to touch Ronan’s cheek, “What are you doing?”

“Something is going on with Logan.” you whisper, and John looks at him, “He was out front when I went to the bathroom, and…he has a bloody lip.”

John clenches his jaw and shakes his head, “Greg.”

“What do we do? He said it happened at work but I don’t believe that. Someone once got a splinter and Jimmy freaked out. He’s so protective of them there.” you hold John’s gaze, “If he got it at work, we’d know about it. Jimmy would have mentioned it.”

“Oh, yeah, skateboarding,” Logan says as everyone stares at him, “Fell earlier.”

You and John both look at each other. Logan can’t even keep his lies straight, most likely because he’s scared and nervous. John sighs as he comes up to stand next to you, then he makes eye contact with Jimmy--he knows something is up too.

“What do we do?”

“Get him out of that house as soon as possible,” John says, and you look up at him, “He’ll stay with us.”

You nod, “Okay.”

“We’ll find him a place eventually, but he needs to get out of that house. He can’t stay there anymore.” John shakes his head as he walks away, “I won’t allow it.”

__

You’re sitting around the table with everyone while the kids are still playing in the grass. Ronan will need to go down for a nap soon, but right now she’s having fun with Harper and you definitely don’t want to pull her away kicking and screaming for a nap. She’ll give all her tired cues when she’s ready for a nap. You look over at John as he stares at the table, and he flinches when you reach for his hand. A small spreads on your face, and he squeezes your hand before leaning over to kiss your temple.

Logan, Benji, and Amanda’s nephew, Devin, have decided to go fishing off the dock behind the house, so you’re all sitting here trying to figure out what to do.

“I want him out of that house,” John says, and you all look at him. “Something about this whole thing…it just pisses me off.”

You nod, “Rightfully so, John. I’m pissed too. I want him out of that house too.”

Jimmy shakes his head, “Greg might put up a fight, but my guess is he won’t if you’re there.”

“Oh, I’ll be there,” John says when Jimmy gestures to him.

“He can stay here. We have plenty of room.” you say as they look at you, “I just don’t want him there anymore. I say that we get him out of there tomorrow.”

Tess leans forward, “Talk to him. Get his opinion. I’m sure he wants out of there too, but let him know that he has the option. You don’t want him to feel like he’s being forced.”

“He’ll need a lot of things. We can help with that.” Amanda says, and you smile softly at her.

Aurelio nods, “I can get him a car too.”

Your heart swells as you look at your friends, “Thank you.”

John sighs heavily beside you, so you look at him. He squeezes your hand but keeps his gaze down. Ronan toddles over and reaches up for her daddy, and he smiles as he brings her into his lap. She leans against his chest and pops her thumb into her mouth, then she smiles as she looks over at you.

“Hi, bug.” you lean over and kiss her forehead, “You getting sleepy?”

Ronan nods her head before she leans back to look at John. She tries her best to talk to him about something--he’s absolutely not sure what but he listens intently. He smiles at her and kisses her, then she lays back against his chest, closing her eyes.

The back gate opens as Benji runs through it, rushing over to Aurelio, “Dad, we just caught a huuuuge fish. Devin threw it back though.”

You look up as Devin and Logan came into the backyard, and they stand back and talk. They’ve really hit it off since Devin’s been here. Aurelio stopped into the shop with him the other day to talk to Jimmy about something, and Logan and Devin instantly became friends. Logan seems to be in a bit of a better mood too now that he has a friend.

“It’s getting dark, I better head home.” Logan says, and you sit up a little. “Thanks for letting me come over. The food was great.”

“Hey, you’re welcome at our places any time, Logan,” Tess says, waving at him, “You know Finny loves you.”

You get up and walk with Logan inside, working up the courage to ask if things are okay at home. You know they’re not but you don’t want to cross any lines. John follows behind you and clears his throat when Logan gets to the door.

“Hey, Logan, can we talk to you?”

“Of course,” he turns around and looks at you both.

Taking a deep breath, you look at him and feel John’s hand on your back, “You didn’t get hurt at work.”

“Uh…” he looks down and shakes his head, “No.”

“Was it your dad?” you ask, and Logan nods his head. “How many times has he done this?”

Logan takes a few moments before he looks at you, “He usually just pushes me around, but this was the first time that he…”

“What about your mom?” John asks, and Logan’s eyes fill with tears as he nods.

“She’s…slapped me before.”

You take a deep breath and let it out shakily, “We don’t want you going back there. We want you to come stay with us. We’ll find a place for you. I know you’re 18 now and you’ve just graduated, but we want you to come stay here for a few weeks. We’ll find you an apartment too. Would you want to do this?”

Logan stares at you and John before he nods his head, “Yes. I’ve been looking for a place but it’s just too expensive.”

“Let us worry about that,” John says, and you nod in agreement. “Can you stay somewhere else tonight? You’re welcome here too.”

“I was actually gonna ask if I could stay at Aurelio’s tonight. Devin wanted to play a game. I just…needed to ask my parents.”

You smile at him, “You and Devin seem to get along.”

“Yeah, he’s cool. We like a lot of the same things.” he says, perking up, “He wants to move out here for school.”

Chatter fills the house as everyone comes back inside, and you look over at Aurelio tickling Ronan’s tummy as she laughs. He sets her down and watches as she runs over to grab one of her toys, then she brings it to him. He leans down and listens to her as she talks about it.

“I’m gonna ask my parents if I can stay the night. They’ll probably say yes, they don’t really care what I do.” he says, and you grip John’s hand. “I’ll text you.”

Devin nods his head, “Cool.”

You quickly follow Logan outside, “Hey, we’re serious, by the way.”

“Me too, Mrs. Wick.” he says, smiling at you, “Thanks.”

“Tomorrow.” you say as he nods, “Tomorrow we’ll pack up your things and you’ll come live here.”

Logan nods again, “Sounds good.”

Walking back into the house, everyone looks at you and waits for what you’re going to say. You give them all a small smile, then you walk over and sit down on the couch, exhaling softly.

“Well, we’ll get out of your hair,” Amanda says, scooping up Harper into her arms, “Call us and let us know what he needs.”

“We will,” John nods, then he looks over at you, “I’m going to walk them out.”

You nod your head, “Okay. Bye guys, thanks for coming.”

Tess leans down and hugs you, “Let us know what we can do too. We’re happy to help.”

“Thank you.”

After the door closes, you look over at Ronan and see her curled up on the couch asleep. You smile as you walk over and pick her up, then you take her up to her room to get her changed. She’s still asleep even as you change her into her pajamas, and you laugh quietly when she only moves around a little after you’ve put her in her crib.

“Is she asleep?” John whispers as he comes in, then he leans down and kisses her forehead, “Damn, I wanted to snuggle her before she fell asleep.”

“She’ll be right there in the morning,” you smile as he looks at you, “You can snuggle her then.”

John nods, “Right.”

The two of you hold hands as you walk down to your room, and you sit on the edge of your bed in silence as John undresses. He stands in front of you in his boxers for a moment before he tilts your chin up so you’ll look at him. Your eyes trail down his body before you stand up and wrap your arms around him, hugging him tight.

“I love you so much,” you whisper as he holds you, “You’re such a good man.”

“This will change things around here a little.” he says, and you nod, “We’ll have someone else living here, but that’s okay, right?”

You lean back and look into his warm brown eyes, “He needs to get out of that house. I can’t sleep knowing he’s there.”

“Yeah, me either,” he smooths your hair back and leans down to kiss you. “This will be good for him.”

“I think so too.”

You wrap your arms around John and close your eyes, listening to the sound of his heart beating. He rests his cheek on top of your head, and you stand in his warm embrace. A comfort that nothing compares to.

__

Logan seemed to be having second thoughts about moving out, so he called and told you that he wanted to wait and see how things were going at home first. He said they had gotten better since he was over the night you talked to him, but you weren’t convinced that they wouldn’t get bad again.

Obviously it’s a scary thing to move out and you’re sure he’s even more scared since his parents pretty much suck. You told him that you and John will support him no matter what, but you both ultimately want him to move in for the time being. He just doesn’t need to be around his parents. John is still hoping that he’ll change his mind and has even had a couple of boxes near the front door for a few days just in case he calls and needs to be moved out as quickly as possible.

It’s scary knowing that he could just be at home when Greg is there, and he could be taking out his anger on him--his mom too. You’re trying not to think about it which is why you’ve been throwing yourself into work all day. You went to the shop and decided to go through some old boxes of books that need to be donated to the library.

Just as you close the box up, you hear the bell above the door. You’re a little surprised that anyone is coming out since it’s storming really bad today. You get up and head out to greet them, but your stomach drops when you see Logan standing there drenched from the rain.

“Logan, oh my god…” you grab John’s sweatshirt that he’s left at work and rush out to warm him up, “Why are you out in the rain?”

“They were yelling at me,” he whispers, his eye red from tears.

You escort him back to the office and gesture for him to sit down, “What happened?”

“They were yelling at me. We were arguing about college. I don’t want to go to school to be a fucking lawyer,” he says, then he looks at you, “Pardon my language.”

You shake your head since it’s the least of your worries right now, but don’t say anything. You just let him talk.

“I said I was leaving, so he…” he shakes his head and looks down, “He was just yelling at me and…calling me names. I went to your house but no one was home, so I came here.”

“I’m so sorry,” you sit next to him, “John is out with Ro.”

Logan uses the sweatshirt to wipe his face dry, then he looks over at you, “I can’t stay there anymore. I know I can’t. I have to leave.”

“I know,” your eyes soften as you look at him, “I want you out of there. Now. I’m gonna call John.”

Logan nods his head as you get up and grab your phone from the desk. You press his name and cradle your phone between your ear and shoulder as you gather your things.

“Hey, peach.”

“Hey, uh, Logan is here.” you say, and he glances up at you. “He needs to move right now. I mean literally right this minute.”

John is quiet for a moment, “Okay. I’m actually on my way home right now. I’ll drop Ro off with Tess. Meet me at the house.”

“Okay,” you hang up the phone and look at Logan, “Let’s go.”

The shop is empty aside from Tony, so you walk over to quickly let him know that you won’t be back and that he can close up the shop whenever he feels like it. With the rain, no one is coming in anyway. You open your umbrella and wait for Logan to get under it, then you rush out to your car to get in.

“I just want you to be one hundred percent sure that you want to move out.”

Logan looks out the window and nods his head before he looks at you, a slight bruising forming around his eye that you couldn’t see earlier since you were on the other side of him.

That’s enough to light a fire inside of you. If you were mad before, you’re fucking livid now.

“Yeah. I’m one hundred percent sure.”

__

John is waiting in the living room when you get into the house. He gets up and walks over, eyeing Logan and sighing when he sees the bruise on his face. He looks over at you, checking to see if you’re okay too. You give him a small nod.

“You’re sure, Logan?”

“Yes, sir,” he nods, shivering a little, from his wet clothes and probably nerves.

John nods, “Let’s go then.”

It’s still storming outside and it only seems to be getting worse as you drive down the street to Logan’s house. You look back at him when you pull up to it, and he wrings his hands together.

“We’re gonna go in with you.” John says, and Logan gets out of the car.

You all rush up to the door and step inside, and when the door opens, all hell breaks loose.

“Logan, that better be you!” Greg yells, stomping his way to the front door. He stops when he sees you and John, “What are you two doing here?”

“Go get your things.” you say softly, and Logan runs up the stairs to his room.

John moves so you’re behind him, “Logan is coming to stay with us.”

“You can’t do that,” Greg laughs. “He’s our child.”

“He’s eighteen. He can go wherever he likes.” you say as you grip the back of John’s shirt to keep him in place, “He’s not going to be staying here with you.”

Greg laughs in disbelief, “Laura, get out here. You won’t believe this.”

Laura walks out drying her hands on a tea towel. She stops when she sees you and John, “What’s going on?”

“They’re trying to take Logan.” Greg says, gesturing to you and John, “Unbelievable.”

“We’re not trying to take him, he’s coming with us. He chose this on his own,” you look at Laura and shake your head, “He’s tired of being treated like shit.”

Laura scoffs, “We do not treat him like that.”

“Really? Where did the black eye come from? How about that busted lip he had?” John asks, staring them down, “Because we all know it didn’t happen from skateboarding. He doesn’t even like skateboarding.”

You look up the stairs to see Logan standing there, and he waves you up. You start towards the staircase but Laura stands in your way. You stare her down until she moves aside. You get into his room and immediately start helping him pack his bags, but you hear Laura coming in.

“You can’t take our son!”

“We’re not taking him,” you say as you turn around to look at Laura. You tap your temple, “You’re not fucking getting it! I’m not taking your son. He’s leaving. He can’t stand to be here anymore.”

Laura shakes her head, “This isn’t even your business.”

“Logan made it my business when he showed up with bloodshot eyes and a blood on his face!” you exclaim as she gazes at you in astonishment, “He made it my business when he told me how shitty you are to him! Laura, he’s your child! As a mother, it is your responsibility to protect and cherish your child; however, you have repeatedly failed to do so. I cannot sit back and allow him to stay in this house.”

John moves past and starts helping you and Logan pack things up. You offer a gentle smile to Logan, placing your hand on his arm while nodding reassuringly, letting him know that everything will be okay.

“I can’t…” Laura talks to herself quietly, “She’s taking him from me. She’s taking him!”

You set aside one bag and grab a few things to put in the bag that John is packing. He looks up at you and gently touches your hand, holding your gaze for a moment before you flinch when Greg yells. John instantly tenses up and turns around to protect you.

“I’ve called the police! They’re on their way.”

“Dad, come on.” Logan finally speaks up, “I’m leaving. I’m going to stay with them, then I’m getting my own place. I can’t stay here. You guys don’t even want me here anyway.”

Laura shakes her head, “That is not true and you know it!”

“Mom, you know you don’t want me here, and I know you only don’t want me to leave because you don’t like her,” he says, gesturing to you, and you look at him, “Mrs. Wick is nice to me. She actually listens to me.”

Laura scoffs and tosses the tea towel to the ground, "Oh please, don't fool yourself into thinking she actually values your input. I'm not naive to her motives; it's obvious why she's so eager for you to move in. It won't be long until she's pregnant. I know she has ulterior motives.”

You stare at her for a moment before you start to laugh since that’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard in your fucking life, “Are you serious? Are you seriously saying I’m going to be inappropriate with him?”

“Mom, she’s like a big sister.” Logan says, and Laura purses her lips and looks away.

“Laura, I have no intentions to do anything with your son, and I’m beyond offended that you think that of me. That is the furthest thing from my mind. What I do have intentions of is taking care of your son because you two are doing a terrible job at that.” you look back at Logan, his face ghost white and frightened, “He’s coming to stay with us.”

There’s a knock at the door, so Greg goes down to answer it. It’s obviously the police, but everyone knows that there isn’t much that can be done. Logan is eighteen and he’s allowed to leave. Plus the police know all about Greg, and you’re sure Jimmy has given them a heads up about what’s been happening.

“You can’t take him!”

You roll your eyes as you turn around and begin helping Logan again. It’s John’s turn to argue with them now.

“Laura, I understand that this must be hard--”

“You don’t know anything!” she yells at John, and you turn to look at her, narrowing your eyes.

She sure as shit is not going to yell at John like that. You gesture for him to help Logan instead, and you go back to arguing with her.

“Why?” you ask her, and she furrows her brow, “Why do you care what happens to him when you don’t even bother to pay attention to him? He’s been begging for attention for years, yet he goes unnoticed.”

“Why do you care?”

You start to laugh, “Because as crazy as this may sound to someone with no soul, I actually care about people. I care about Logan, and I care about what happens to him. As a mother, I can’t stand here and watch you treat him like that.”

Laura says something not very nice about you under her breath that makes John stand up straight and absolutely glare at her. You roll your eyes and grab a bag of Logan’s things to bring downstairs. Laura actually moves out of the way but she follows you back down to the front door where Greg is talking to the police.

“Well, he’s eighteen, so…” the officer nods at John, then he looks at Greg, “There’s nothing we can do. If he wants to go stay with them, he’s legally an adult and can do that.”

“So, she gets to just take my son from me?” Laura stands next to Greg and shakes her head, “This whore gets to just take our son!”

John takes a deep breath before he sets the bag down, “I haven’t said much because I’m trying my best to control my anger right now, but if you speak about my wife like that one more time, I promise I won’t be able to control it.”

“You can be as upset as you like, but Logan made this choice on his own. He doesn’t want to stay here in this environment anymore, and we’re offering him a way out.” you hold Laura’s gaze, “If you weren’t going to love your child, then you never should have had them.”

Laura fumes as she takes a step forward, “You bitch--”

You swat Laura’s hand out of your face before you shove her back. She stumbles into Greg and widens her eyes, looking over at the police officer and pointing at you. She looks like a petulant child. She starts her way back to you but you grab her arm when she tries to hit you again.

“Don’t.” you warn her firmly, “I promise you that you don’t want to do that because you won’t like what happens next. News fucking flash: you cannot put your hands on people! You don’t know me, so I’m warning you right now. If you put your hands on me, you won’t like the outcome.”

Greg puffs up his chest and steps forward, which sets John off. It happens in a flurry. One moment you’re looking at Laura and the next you see Greg making his way towards you. You’re sure he’s just protecting his wife, but John is also protecting his. He steps in front of you and his fist connects with Greg’s jaw, knocking his back against the staircase.

“Enough!” the cops yells, and you quickly pull John back towards you after he got a few good hits in.

Lacing your fingers through John’s, you hold him tight next to you since you know he’ll go back to Greg if you don’t have a hold of him.

When Logan tries to move past to the doorway, Greg stands in front of him, just staring him down, and Logan puts his head down and doesn’t move. He just shrinks as Greg towers over him. Logan’s not a short kid, but Greg just makes him look so small and powerless. If Logan really wanted to, he could probably really hurt Greg.

“Logan, you can’t just leave…” Laura says, reaching out for him but he backs away, “Honey, we’ll talk about it.”

You touch his back and lean forward to look at him, “Put your things in the car. We’ll be out shortly.”

The police officer shrugs, “There’s nothing I can do. He’s made his decision. If he feels like he’s better off with them, then that’s what he should do. Either way, he shouldn’t be here. He’s clearly not comfortable.”

“So, that’s it? They get to waltz in here and take him from us?” Greg throws his hands up, “Absolute bullshit!”

Logan opens the door and puts his cell phone on the table, “I don’t want to see you two right now. Not for a while. Maybe later down the road, but not right now. You can have your phone back. I’ll get my own. Mom, I know this is hard, but this is a decision I made for myself. You guys don’t care if I’m here or not.”

“Honey, that is not true.”

“If it wasn’t true, then you would have noticed that I wasn’t home for the past week.” he says, and you all look at him, “I never came home. I was staying with a friend, or…sleeping on a bench. I even crashed in the Wick’s backyard one night--I didn’t want to wake you guys up.”

You shake your head and wave it off, “We don’t care about that, Logan. We just want you to be safe.”

“You haven’t even noticed that I’ve been gone. It’s okay, mom.” he says softly as she cries, “Maybe we can work things out later on in life.”

John reaches for your hand and tugs it a little, pulling you to the door. You open the door and wait for Logan to step outside, then you walk to the car with him. He gets in the back and looks out the window as Laura stands on the front step with her hands over her head to shield herself from the rain. You turn around and look back at Logan, and he exhales in relief before putting his head down and closing his eyes.

__

When you got home, you quickly made up the guest bedroom for Logan. You gave him new sheets and told him that you’d make some dinner but he wasn’t obligated to come out or anything. In the end, he decided to just take his food to his room, which was fine by you. He said he wanted to eat and just watch some TV before falling asleep. He’s so emotionally and mentally exhausted, so you don’t blame him for wanting to just rest.

Sighing loudly, you flop down in bed and close your eyes. John trails his nails up your back and into your hair, and you hum before you open your eyes to look at him. He holds your gaze as you sit up, then he pulls you into his arms and hugs you. You melt into the warmth of his embrace, scooting up more so you’re comfortable.

John leans back and sighs, “You think he’s okay?”

“He will be,” you whisper, nodding your head, “It’s just going to be an adjustment for now. It doesn’t help that we literally live down the street from them but he’s safe here.”

“What Laura said about you earlier,” he shakes his head, “None of that is true.”

You start to laugh, “She called me a slut! And a whore! Can you believe that? Me? A slut?”

“You’re certainly not a slut,” John says, chuckling a little.

“Well, I mean, I am a slut for you.” you say, which makes John laugh harder than he has all day. “The fact that her mind even went there disgusts me. I have never looked at him like that. He’s like…a little brother or a son, really.”

John nods, “She’s just upset. I’m not justifying it, but there’s no way anyone would think that about you. She’s just mad.”

“I know,” you look down at your hands and shrug, “I feel so bad for him. I can’t imagine…ever treating Ro like that. She’s my baby. I’m suppose to love and protect her, not hurt her.”

“I think I see a lot of myself in Logan,” John admits as you look at him, “I think that’s why this situation is so hard for me and why I get so protective of him. It’s hard for me to control my anger more than it should be. I just see so much of myself in him. He’s so lost and unloved, and he really needs someone to show him that he has worth. What better person to do that than you. You did it for me.”

You tear up as you look at him, “You have so much worth, babe. Logan does too. And you both had it before I ever even came along.” Silence blankets the room for a few minutes before you look at John. “Were people…mean to you too when you were younger?” you ask, and he inhales deeply before looking over at you with the saddest eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

“It just comes with the territory.”

“It shouldn’t.” you say, holding his gaze, “No one deserves to be treated like that, especially not a child. Especially not you.”

John leans over, cupping your face and kissing you. You scoot closer to him and pull the blanket up so you can touch him, and you both lay back on the bed but his lips never leave yours. You start to pull his boxers down a little, but you’re startled by a knock on the door.

John leans up a little and looks over his shoulder at the door, “Think Ronan knows how to get out of her bed and knock yet?”

“No,” you laugh, getting out of bed. You open the door and smile when Logan stands with his back to you, “I’m decent, Logan.”

“Oh, okay,” he turns around and looks over your shoulder at John before looking at you, “I just wanted to say thank you for letting me stay here. I promise I won’t be a hassle or anything.”

You smile, “We’re not worried about it. We’re just glad you’re here and that you’re safe. Not that you’ll have to worry about it again, but next time you’re looking for somewhere to stay, you can come here. You don’t have to sleep on a bench.”

“Or in our backyard.” John chimes in, and you laugh as you move to the side so they can see each other. “That’s kind of creepy.”

Logan grimaces before smiling, “I didn’t want to wake up Ronan.”

You wave it off, “We’d rather deal with a sleepy baby than you getting sick or being uncomfortable outside.”

“About the stuff my mom said…”

You wave your hand again, “Don’t worry about it.”

“It wasn’t very nice.”

“Well, no, but she’s upset. I’m not worried about it. I know it’s not true. I’m pretty crazy about that big dope back there,” you say, using your thumb to gesture to John over your shoulder, and John starts to laugh, “Plus I’m almost old enough to be your mom, so I’m not really interested in you.”

Logan scrunches up his face, “Yeah, that’s gross. You’re like a big sister.”

John laughs, “Good. I’d fight you otherwise, kid.”

“I believe it.” Logan laughs, then he smiles at you.

“Hey, speaking of…” John gets up and walks over to join you, “I’m sorry--well, I’m not sorry that I did it--but sorry you had to see me…you know…”

Logan nods when John imitates punching his own jaw, “Oh, no, he deserved it.”

“I will do anything that I have to do to protect her,” John says, gesturing to you, “I protect my family. I hope you know that includes you.”

That totally touched Logan but he plays it off and just nods his head. The light catches a tear in his eye though. Fucking adorable.

“I won’t be loud or anything since I’m going to bed and I know Ro is sleeping, but I just wanted to let you guys know I’m watching TV.”

“You don’t have to tell us what you’re doing every minute, bud,” John says as he backs away, “You’re welcome to do whatever. Obviously Ro is sleeping, but whatever you do in your room is your business. Tomorrow we can go and get the rest of the things you need and get you a new phone as well.”

Logan looks down, “I need to get a new bank account too. My parents have me on theirs, so…”

“We’ll take care of everything that we can tomorrow.” you say to him, and he nods. “Go get some rest. If you get hungry, there’s plenty of food as well.”

“I can just get anything I want?” he says, perking up when you nod. “Wow.”

You reach out and hug him, “You’re safe here, Logan.”

“Thank you,” he hugs you tighter before he lets go, “I’ll see you two in the morning.”

“Okay, goodnight.”

Logan turns around and stares at you for a moment like he’s seeing a ghost, “Goodnight.”

Has no one ever said goodnight to him before?

Closing the door, you turn back to John and smile at him as he watches you. You crawl into bed and laugh when he leans down and kisses you several times, and you lean back to hold his gaze. His hand is resting on your hip, and you squint your eyes playfully at him.

“You arguing with Laura was pretty sexy.”

You start to laugh, “God, you’re so weird.”

“I just think you’re sexy when you get angry.”

“I don’t get this reaction when I get mad at you for leaving the toilet seat up.”

John cocks up his brow, “I don’t leave the toilet seat up.”

“Yeah, true,” you cup his face and look into his eyes, “Thanks for being such a good man.”

“I want to be the best man for you.”

A smile spreads across your face, “You are the best man for me. Ronan and I are so lucky. And you know what? Logan is lucky too. Thank you for taking him under your wing. We are so lucky to have you in our lives, babe.”

John nods as he looks down, then he looks at you with tears in his eyes, “Thank you.”

You start to tear up as you look at him, so you hug him tight and close your eyes, just holding each other for a few minutes. You start to laugh when John’s left hand slides down your thigh, and you lean back to look at him, raising your brows a little.

“You have to be insanely quiet.”

“I can do that,” he whispers as he crawls on top of you, “I can be so quiet.”

Laughing quietly, you lift your hips up so John can get your shorts off, and he licks his lips and leans down to kiss your stomach as he hums. He moves lower and inhales deeply when he gets between your legs, and you laugh when he closes his eyes and drops his head.

“God, you smell so good!”

“Quiet,” you whisper as you pull him up to you, “You have to be quiet.”

John grins as he leans down to kiss you, then he shakes his head, “It’s not me I’m worried about.”

You bite your lip as you start to laugh, “Okay, I’ll be quiet too.”

Your left arm is draped over John’s pillow and as soon as he brushes his lip between your legs, you grab his pillow and press it to your face. Yeah, being quiet is harder than it seems.

_

@multifandombliss @ruby-octo @tnu-ree @sakurachan-9 @beingnerdyissupercool @scream-queen-25 @ladyren33

[ransolm]

Hi all,

I haven’t been very active on Tumblr, nor have I been much of a political voice here; however, I have some insight to share…

In early 2023, I worked—albeit briefly—on Capitol Hill in the U.S. By no means was I a senior staffer, but I do have some brief, hopefully helpful, advice. (To be completely transparent, I was an important senior republican’s staffer—I am not a republican nor right-leaning and never have been. This time for me was entirely meant to gain experience on my resume and earn university credit.)

(I do not mean for this post to offend anyone, I just hope to provide some context when it comes to US congressional processes, and, hopefully, provide some advice when dealing with red representatives.)

When it comes to reaching out to your representatives: don’t stop, but know it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re making a difference (at least in red states):

When disgruntled constituents reach out (either via calls/mail/fax) it’s logged on an online database but typically discarded and shallowly acknowledged by staffers (also only constituents are acknowledged by that office—don’t call out of state representatives,, they don’t care and won’t log it ((also it’s extremely annoying and clogs the phone lines; out of state correspondence will mostly be thrown in the trash)).

When staffers say they’ll let *insert politician* know about the caller/emailer/faxer stance, it’s by that online database. They’re not lying but also not necessarily telling the truth: most politicians don’t care to look on that database, but they have access to it. Politicians are only aware of their constituents concerns when it’s aligning with their political party or REALLY concerning (and I mean if it goes against their political party’s ideology or donor funds).

If you really wanna go for the politician’s throat, go for the money. They are funded by super PACs or large state corporations. Boycott them/expose them/do whatever you have to do to interrupt or pause donations. Politicians only care about what their donors and political party care about.

If you go to their office to complain straight to a politician and cause a ruckus/protest/demonstration, staffers will likely call security/police on you (at least in DC office buildings they will). Keep in mind, politicians aren’t usually just sitting around in their office; meetings are happening between staffers, lobbyists, constituents, and/or advocates. If the politician is there, their office is WAYYY back behind the staffers and likely not even within earshot of anything. Any demonstration will be disrupted and dispersed by police (in DC it’s capitol police). Unfortunately, like I said, any disruptions/demonstrations at such offices will likely cause annoyance among staffers (from my experience), and if politicians hear about it, it’ll most likely be because meetings were disrupted. Overall, it’s a negative experience and will be brushed away.

If you do want to go the solo route and continue to contact your representatives, please stay cordial to staffers. If you become combative, rude, aggressive, or belligerent, staffers can and will put you on a do not answer and/or do not correspond list. Also, as I was a junior staffer just trying to get experience, having callers verbally abuse you on the phone is NOT it. If you call in, do not insult the staffer. It’s rude and, quite frankly, disgusting. We’re humans too, and most of us just want a pay check plus experience. Senior staffers rarely take phone calls, and swearing at the staffer will not get you a phone call with your representative period.

If you have any questions about my experience/observations/advice(?), please DM me or comment. I’m not used to posting much on Tumblr, so I apologize if this is scuffed—I just want to help provide some behind the scenes context to your representatives.

I stand with Ukraine. I stand with Palestine. I stand against genocide.

[ratwife77]

5 Buck Band-Aid

TW verbal abuse (Steve’s dad)

and Steve feeling like he’s to blame for it

just in general be careful reading

word count: 879

ao3 version

“Get out, you piece of shit. Fuckin’ reason your mom..” I couldn’t get his voice to stop replaying in my head. Didn’t even know why the hell I was so upset over something that had happened hundreds of times, the same old crap. Felt like I was being crushed, and I got a pang in my chest. I couldn’t tell if I was actually hurt or if it was my mind. Guessed that at least he wasn’t smackin’ me around that day. Just knew I had to get to Soda’s, and fast. Breaking down in the middle of the street probably wasn’t a good idea; I’d be leaving myself vulnerable. Who knew what kind of assholes would be lurking around, looking for a fight. I told myself I was tough, and I’d fight anybody, but I didn’t want to. Not then, not after all that. I didn’t feel too good, but I wasn’t in the mood to get hurt or somethin’.

“Stupid kid.. just another mouth to feed..” I don’t remember what I did to piss him off, really. I must’ve done something; the beer in his hand just loosened his lips about whatever it was. Walking in the dark, past all the dimly lit streetlights, I couldn’t help but think that all of this happened too much. Most of my buddies had issues with their parents, and theirs were probably worse than mine, so why was I feelin’ sorry for myself? I was absolutely pathetic, I thought, wondering what I’d done to deserve it all.

Sometimes, I wasn’t sure that I didn’t deserve it. Wherever I told Soda about it all, he said I didn’t. “Black cloud, that’s what you are. Always bringing me down, ain’t got nothin’ better to do..” Soda was my best friend, a stand-up guy, but I didn’t trust that he wasn’t just trying to spare my feelings. Could've been lying straight to my face. It’s my fault, I thought, because otherwise, I wouldn’t be treated like that. With that thought, I started feeling nauseous, bringing my baggage to a house that had enough trouble to deal with already. Darry didn’t need another kid to take care of, and Soda didn’t need something else to worry about, either. Pony was probably gonna give them both grey hairs. He wasn’t the worst kid, considerin’ Curly was around, but he stayed out later than he was supposed to, and he pissed me off sometimes. Attached to Soda, he always wanted to come with us, tagging along. Don’t get me wrong, though, I’d protect him if he needed it, and I’d given him advice a couple times.

Kicking a rock, I began weighing my options for where to stay, reminding myself that I didn’t have time to dally. “Don’t even bother coming back. I’m tired of you, ruining our family..” It wasn’t too cold, I could stay out. But then again, Johnny was probably at the lot, and I didn’t want to run into him, or anyone. Two-Bit may’ve even been messing around, still, probably drunk off his ass. Where else..? As I weighed my options, I could only come up with one. Even though I hadn’t wanted to bother anyone, I felt a genuine love whenever I went to the Curtises, and I didn’t want to turn that down. It was a love I didn’t deserve, but a love I wanted. I was like a starving man for it, needing it in my bones, yearning. 

“Steve.. you deserve better.” Before I even got to the door, Soda was there like always. His words were there when I needed them, making my heavy heart a little bit lighter. I hesitantly turned the knob and walked inside. Suddenly, I realized that I’d been clenching my fists, trying to hold it together. I loosened my grip and looked around. They were all asleep, and some of their stuff was strewn around. Darry’s reading glasses sat on his newspaper, and Pony’s book was set on the table. Soda had left his DX shirt hung on a chair. Looking at it all left me feeling empty. Their things had life in them, a certain comfort that I couldn’t explain if I tried. My house didn’t have that. “We’re here for you. There’s a reason we don’t lock our door.” Those words were hard to believe, but they always ended up ringin’ true when I crashed at the house.

I wiped a tear away, and I didn’t let any more come, forcing them back. I knew my dad’s shit wouldn’t stop, at least not then. All I could do was prepare for the five buck band-aid I knew was coming, and try to take comfort in the gang. Hearing soft but sturdy footsteps. There was only one person who it’d be. He usually woke up pretty quick, ‘cause he had to help Pony pretty often, with all the nightmares. “Oh. Steve.. Again..?” Saying that, all gentle-like, set me off. I don’t know why, but another tear rolled down my cheek, and before I could, Soda brushed it off, all calm. I think he was the calmest when he had to be strong for other people. Carefully, he pulled me into a hug, and I hugged him like my life depended on it.

LMK if there are any, ANY problems at all with this! If it’s out of character, or something else, letting me know only improves my writing!

[speedytimemachineblizzard]

Putting Myself FIRST

Before My Spiritual Awakening, I was just living like everyone else, I suppose, I like to joke around NOW, and refer to THAT way of living as “living on autopilot”. My mind was always full of self doubt, worry, fear of the unknown, unsure of who I was or why I was even here, even though I felt like I was missing something, but could never quite place my finger on it. I put up with a lot of people’s bad behavior, I allowed disrespect and simply put, I let everyone walk all over me, doing my absolute best to avoid conflict and would keep the peace at ANY cost, until I realized the cost was actually MY peace.

Oh, the lengths, we as empaths, will go to make sure everyone ELSE is happy and everyone else’s needs are met, thinking we’re actually one step ahead and at peace, not even realizing the resentment building deep inside our soul from not receiving to the same in return from the ones we try so hard to put before our own needs and wants. Over giving, taking on more responsibility than I could handle, and accepting behavior that I would NEVER again in my life imagine of allowing left me in a constant state of feelings defeated, not feeling good enough, unappreciated, taken advantage of, depressed, full of anxiety always worrying about failing or falling short..just plain, flat out unhappy and lacking what I know cherish most, my peace. Living that way my whole adult life eventually caught up with, as it ultimately will with everyone, and I suffered a huge emotional breakdown my last day at work back, which is also the day I quit. The workplace I was employed at affected me so greatly, and even after being advised from family, friends and even former co-workers to just leave, I stayed. I stayed because I felt comfortable, I knew what to expect every single day, including the disrespectful and sny remarks from co workers. I stayed because it fit my schedule as a single mother, having certain times I could work and in the field I was in at the time, the hours I HAD were unheard of and not many people were lucky Enough to receive such a flexible work schedule. So I traded my dignity, worth and emotional/mental health and overall well being for those hours, looking back.

Work wasn’t my only dilemma, of course. I had also personal problems, dealing with a very unhappy family (not my own children): Siblings and as great as my parents have been and ARE, them as well. My parents unintentionally treated me that way of course. I had also recently left a very abusive relationship where I dealt with not only physical abuse, but also verbal, emotional, financial and spiritual abuse and Was trying my best to move on as quickly as possible. Dealing with drinking, trying to numb out some of the pain, I was dealing with just a massive amount responsibility as a single mom taking care of her kids, living in fear of my life bc of my ex, taking on the emotional responsibility of my mother and sister, etc. On top of dealing with my own health issues and mental health. Depression , Anxiety, OCD to name a few. It wasn’t until one day (Yes, one VERY random day) I said : Enough is enough. It hasn’t occured to me, as silly as it sounds, until then, my mid 30’s, that you know what? THIS is not any way for anyone to live. I was like, “What about ME?” I MATTER too! I need love and support TOO! I need a break TOO! I need someone to listen to me as I cry TOO! I deserve to have my needs and wants met TOO! I deserve respect TOO! I deserve to be put first TOO! I remember the day and it was like a tsunami of emotions flooding the gate, it was overwhelming and all consuming. I remember, as well, having random flashbacks from my very blurry childhood that I didn’t realize at the time, were so far suppressed within me. I was angry. Appalled. I was FURIOUS and I felt like my life was a lie. And how could I have not even known? That’s crazy right? No. I know now that it was my body’s way of protecting myself. I had a lot of unresolved issues that NEEDED to be brought to light. Easy right? No. I had no idea I’d spend the next yr or so In isolation, due partly to depression, but also due to my anger and resentment I had developed after all the years towards very special people in my life.

THIS IS WHERE things got even more chaotic. This is where my whole entire way of thinking and view in life changed. I knew LIFE had to be more…

[authorandartist13]

Respite--An Outsiders fic

“You sleep at your folks’ last night?” Discomfort creeps up his esophagus. “Nah.” Johnny wakes, and sleeps, and wakes again. There's a cycle to his couch-crashing, but he always feels a lap behind.

Hey hi hello! Welcome to my first (published) Outsiders fic. CW: Brief verbal/physical abuse of a minor, mentions of alcoholism. Not extensively detailed or graphic, but keep yourselves safe. We're gonna hit it with some homey comfort and a touch of angst for flair, folks. Here we go!

The Curtis place is separate from the outside world.

Here, it’s quiet. Johnny usually can’t stand the stale, tense silences lining the walls of his house, but this quiet just–isn’t that. It’s full, somehow, with the rustling of turning newspaper pages and the soft drone of the refrigerator in the background. And the inevitable clattering pots and pans from Soda’s attempts at cooking, of course. 

The screen door slams, and a haze of cigarette smoke announces Dallas’ presence as he ambles into the room. “Hey, Johnnycakes.” He kicks up his feet in the recliner. “You stayin’ the night?”

“Probably.”

“Sweet deal.” Dally frowns at the television. “What’re you watching?”

Johnny shrugs. “Dunno. Was on when I got here. Haven’t really been paying attention.”

“It’s Antiques Roadshow,” Soda calls from the kitchen. “Pony’s convinced he’s got a winning baseball card that’s gonna put him through college.”

“It could!” Pony says, indignant over the commentary of an appraiser examining a dusty trombone case, sans trombone. “Sometimes they show sports stuff, and most of the time it’s worth at least a couple hundred bucks.” Disgruntled, he adds, “Which I keep tellin’ them, but all they wanna watch is football.”

Darry pokes his head out from the kitchen entryway. There’s sawdust mixed in with the flour in his hair. “And I’m telling you the only thing that’s gonna put you through college are your grades, little buddy. You finish your homework yet?”

“Pretty much.”

Darry raises an eyebrow. 

Pony throws his hands in the air. “Alright, alright, I’ll go do the rest of it. Hey, Johnny, holler if they start looking over trading cards, yeah?”

“Sure.”

As soon as Pony’s out of sight, Dallas snatches the remote up and changes the channel. An old stick-’em-up western rattles through the crackling screen. Johnny thumbs through a pack of cards, half-watching two gunslingers trading leveled stares across the wavering heat. Dallas flicks a napkin scrap at him. 

“Deal me in, kid. Or are you playing fifty-two card pick-up?”

“Might be once we’re finished,” Johnny says, dividing the cards between them. “And you chuck ‘em all over the place.”

Dallas raises a wry eyebrow. “Don’t bet your milk money on that one.”

When Johnny whips him in poker, the house erupts with so much noise it drags Ponyboy out of his essay-induced stupor. 

*****

Johnny wakes to a hand on his shoulder. Blearily, he sits up, maybe a little faster than necessary. Soda’s standing over him, his hand now gone. Johnny’s skin feels suddenly cold without it. 

“Hey,” Soda whispers. “You need to be home by now?”

Johnny glances at the clock on the wall, remembers it got broke last week from one of Soda and Steve’s wrestling matches, and digs out his watch. Six-thirty. Shit. 

He pulls himself up with a smothered sigh and makes quick work of collecting his things. “I better,” he says, tying his blackened shoe laces. “Thanks, Soda. Tell Darry I said it, too.”

Soda shoots him a thumbs-up. Before Johnny can slip out the door, he says, “You sure you gotta go? We can keep you here, if you’d rather. You know what Two’ll do if your ma shows up.”

“Yeah,” Johnny says, but he knows his face says otherwise. “I just…nobody else will clean, so.”

“Yeah.” Soda sighs, smiles, and slugs Johnny in the shoulder. “But it’s no use running to a bad appointment, huh? Take the scenic route.”

“Sure, I’ll do a lap around your house. Should be scenic enough.”

Soda laughs. “Get outta here, Cade.”

He doesn’t have to tell Johnny twice. He’s already late. He ignores Soda’s advice and takes a shortcut through the lot back to his house, partly because he’s gotta slip inside before his folks notice and partly because dawdling in the streets means getting jumped (not that many socs are cruising for bait at this hour). The early morning dew seeps through his sneakers as he braces to climb through his bedroom window. He lands as soft as he can manage and works his way through the house, cleaning as he goes. There’s no room in the trash for the drained beer bottles littering the couch, so he bags it up and drags it outside. 

When he steps back inside, his mother’s waiting for him. 

Her eyes are roaming, coagulus, like they’re made of gelatin in their sockets. Not sober, then, but coming off it enough to recognize him. He shifts in his soggy sneakers, hand itching for his backpack, a jacket, anything. Instead, he braces. 

“You been back at that Curtis place?” Her voice is ragged, like a rusty blade against a telephone wire. Last night was a fighting night. A sobbing one, too, by the rings around her eyes. 

“No’m.”

“Where you been, then?”

“The lot.”

“Bullshit.” She spits. “You’re playing house with those kiss-asses.” He doesn’t–won’t–respond, and her jaw clenches. “Isn’t that right? You’d rather rob them blind than be grateful for what you’ve got here.”

“No’m.”

“Don’t you contradict me.” She reaches for him and he steps back. It’s a mistake; her knuckles flash against his cheek in a slap. “You think you’re so damn smart. Them Curtis boys have nothing to their name for a rag like you. They’ll be in the lock-up by winter.”

She said the same thing last year, and the year before that. Johnny doesn’t bother taking note.

His silence has gone on too long. He has to remember to match her temper, but he can’t. His bones ache. 

Her hand is like iron around his bicep. She leans in close, and he can smell the liquor and stale coffee on her breath. “You think they’ll keep taking you back? Go on, then. Their parents thought they were so high and mighty, it’s only natural for the sons to inherit it, too.”

“I can clean the kitchen.”

She throws him down by his hair. “God help me for such an ungrateful son.” A kick lands home in his ribs. He scrambles to get up, to get to the sink. The water’s scalding on his cracked skin. “I’ll give you something to whine about.”

But she must be too bleary to follow through, because her footsteps thud up the stairs, cursing him all the way. Johnny scrubs until his hands go numb, and then he takes out the trash again.

*****

The next morning hails a vicious wind. 

“Incoming,” a voice calls, before an arm is slung around his shoulders. 

“Hey, Two.”

“Hey yourself, punk. You beat up any socs today?”

“Not yet.”

“Eh, you’ll get there.” Two-bit ruffles his hair and they make their way down the sidewalk. When they stop to let a herd of cars pass by, Two-Bit’s gaze finds him more closely. 

“You sleep at your folks’ last night?”

Discomfort creeps up his esophagus. “Nah.”

“You weren’t at Soda’s.” No, he wasn’t. Johnny tries not to leech too many nights in a row. There may not be a schedule to his couch-crashing, but there are limits. He tries to make up for it. If he’s got an extra five bucks, he’ll slip it in the tin bank in the back of Darry’s closet. Cash is hard to come by with no job and a constant cycle of beer runs for his father, so other nights he dries the dishes. 

“The lot,” he says, eyes darting away to avoid Two-Bit’s frown. He’s not doing this right now. 

“Yeah,” Two-Bit says slowly. His hand comes up to feel Johnny’s forehead and Johnny bats it away. He doesn’t like when Two-Bit gets serious. It’s murky, unnatural. “You know my ma don’t mind making up an extra bed.”

“Bet she wouldn’t mind you making your bed, either,” Johnny says, and a flash of playfulness returns to Two-Bits eyes.

“Man,” he says, as the cars clear and they cross the street. Two-Bit pauses on the other side to flip off a particularly rambunctious Mustang. “She’d think I’d undergone a traumatic event. Got early Alzheimer's or something.”

Johnny lets himself scoff, and laugh, and doesn’t question how better to hide the rings around his eyes. It’s only gonna get colder, he thinks darkly, so he might as well get them tattooed on now. 

*****

Buck’s is the opposite of quiet. The minute the door opens he’s flooded with wobbly light and warbling music loud enough to make him shout at the stranger silhouetted before him. 

“What?” The stranger is shouting, too, but Johnny guesses it has more to do with the fog in his eyes than Hank Williams’ dulcet tones. 

“Dallas!”

“Oh, fuck him,” the stranger drawls, and slams the door in his face. Johnny sighs. 

He should go. He should probably, definitely go.

The wind whips a collection of ripping trash bags into the street like clattering tumbleweeds. From a cloudy window, he can see a silent game of pool. Someone picks up the eight-ball and chucks it into a beer pong table, sending booze sloshing. The apparent champion of beer pong clobbers him. 

Johnny’s feet stay rooted to the spot, mesmerized, so he moves the only other set of limbs he’s got left and pounds on the door. One, two beats. Three. 

The door catapults open. “--ucking girl scouts, we’re not buying shit,” Buck snarls, but at least it’s Buck. Better chance of being recognized, anyways. He blinks at Johnny. “Whaddaya want?”

“Is Dally here?”

“No. Go away.”

“Wait–” Johnny sticks his foot in the door, ouch, and fails to shut his trap. “Can I just, uh.”

“Spit it out, kid.”

“Um. I’m supposed to meet him, to–pay him back, for–can I just wait upstairs?”

Buck rolls his eyes. “Don’t go spelunking up there, y’hear?” The door is graciously removed from Johnny’s foot and he follows Buck inside. Standing surrounded by the ruckus is dizzying, and he presses through the bodies towards the stairs before he disorients himself. He prays no one is shacking up in Dally’s room and knocks for good measure, but miraculously, it’s empty. He shuts the door behind him and leans against it. 

He’s almost asleep when the door knocks into his back. 

“What the–Johnny?”

He scrambles to his feet, rubbing his eyes at the figure above him. “Hey, Dally.”

“The hell you sitting watch at the door for?” Dallas asks, collapsing onto the bed with a cigarette balanced between his lips mid-light. 

“Fell asleep,” Johnny shrugs. 

Dallas grunts. “Buck said you were here to pay up.” He looks at Johnny over his lighter. “We both know you don’t owe me shit, so what gives?”

“Lot’s cold. Didn’t want to bug anyone.”

“So you’re botherin’ me, huh?” Johnny’s face must morph into something aggrieved, because Dallas snorts and swipes a hand through his hair. “You know I don’t mind, kid, wipe that look off your face. I’m crashing,” he adds, puffing down the cigarette and crushing it out beneath his boot, “Extra jacket’s in the drawer.”

“What?”

“For a blanket, man,” Dallas says, like Johnny’s a little too slow on the catch-up. “You want the floor or the bed?”

Johnny pulls open half-filled drawyers until he finds Dallas’ leather jacket, the sheepskin matted but soft beneath his fingers. “Floor’s fine.”

Dallas rolls his eyes. “No it ain’t. C’mere, I don’t bite.”

Johnny settles on one side of the twin mattress, back to Dally and the coat beneath his head. This isn’t the first time they’ve done this, but small as he is, Johnny’s taller now than he used to be. They make it work, spines brushing, Johnny swept into a dreamless haze by the sound of Dally’s slow exhales and the dilapidated country swing reverberating below. 

*****

“Man, I’ll beat his fucking head in,” Steve says, lip curling as he prods at the lump forming on Johnny’s forehead. “He do this last night?”

“This morning,” Johnny says, and reigns in a wince. Steve’s not exactly known for his gentle bedside manner, but the DX has a stocked first aid kit, which is all he needs. He’s sitting on the counter and feeling stupidly small while Steve–dare he say–fusses around him. 

“I swear on his fresh-dug grave, Johnny. He’s gonna kill you one day.”

“Don’t I know it,” Johnny mutters, misery creeping in. He smashes it down. “It ain’t so bad, really. Just slap some ice on it or something.”

Steve clicks his teeth. “Yeah, all right. Soda?”

“No, I’ll–” But he should’ve known Steve would blab to Soda the second he got a chance. Johnny figured Soda wasn’t working today seeing as he’d yet to mother-hen circles around him, but he must be putzing in the back. 

“Wait here.” Steve wanders into the back garage, hollering. “Sodapop! The kid’s here.”

“Ponyboy?” Soda comes back into view with Steve, greased towel over one shoulder. His eyes land on Johnny. “Johnnycakes! You–well, shit.” He turns to Steve. “Can you grab some ice?”

“That was supposed to be your job,” Steve retorts, but he snatches Soda’s towel and cracks open the freezer. 

“Soc or your old man?” Soda asks, clearing the space between them in two long strides and leaning in close to Johnny’s face. His brow pinches as he resumes Steve’s prodding with much gentler hands. 

“Him,” Johnny says. It’s getting old, honestly, admitting he can’t hold his own against a sorry bastard unfit to walk most nights. Soda hums. 

“Did he get you anywhere else?”

“Nah.”

Soda raises an eyebrow as Steve returns, ice wrapped in the work towel. Johnny presses it to his face. “It’s fine.”

Soda looks unconvinced but relents. “You’re coming over for dinner tonight?” It’s phrased like a question, but Johnny knows there’s no arguing. He doesn’t want to refuse anyways, not tonight, but if he did there’d be guilty hell to pay.

“Only if you’re not cooking,” he hops off the counter and lets the smile play up his lips at Soda’s mock offense. 

“Well, excuse me for enjoying the subtle art of presentation,” he says. “You’re in luck, though. Darry’s making chicken gravy.”

Johnny can practically feel his stomach growling. “Catch you then, man,” he says, and wishes the whir of A/C could follow him out the door. 

*****

The rumble of a pickup warns its slowing advancement on him. Johnny shirks to the curb as it idles to a crawl, hackles raised. His blade is heavy and warm in his pocket. He can’t read the plates in the foggy light of fallen dusk. 

“Need a ride?” The driver calls, and he just about shakes his teeth, he’s so riled. Then the driver leans out the rolled-down window and he can make out a familiar jawline, a permanent cowlick. “Johnny? You headed to ours?”

Darry. Johnny’s shoulders sink with relief, and he lets his hands fall slack in his pockets. 

“Yeah,” he calls, and climbs in the cab. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Darry glances at him sideways as he signals himself back into the right lane. Johnny’s pulse matches the brief patter of the blinker. “You shouldn’t walk by yourself this time of night.” The way he says it–not bitten out or tensed, like he does with Ponyboy, but softer, almost apologetic–proves they both know Johnny’s well aware of what trouble he could bring. Darry worries about Pony’s casual shirking of danger, but Johnny. 

Johnny doesn’t need a lecture. 

It sparks a strange warmth within him, the knowledge that Darry cares. He doesn’t know how to hold it in his hands next to his blade and bottle caps. 

“I’m alright,” he says, watching trees flit by. Wondering whether a soc would’ve been hiding behind any one of them, had he kept going. A small, rational quadrant of his brain knows there likely wouldn’t have been, but safety breeds his freedom to speculate. He’d rather waste time hypothesizing than prove his theories, anyways. 

Darry hums and turns on the radio. Old jukebox rock ambles through the station. 

There lives another part of him. A deeper and steady calm that thrums through his veins any time danger is confirmed. The part that hooks his fingers around his blade and trusts in it. That flips up his jacket collar and sneers, kicks the scared puppy in him aside for something rougher to unearth itself across his features. The part that knows, unequivocally, that he will never be made a slick-mouthed soc’s ragdoll again. He doesn’t think about how he’d stop it, only that when he’s backed into a corner, a primal instinct quivers down his spine, itching for release.

Darry’s right to be more worried about Ponyboy than him.

“How was school?” Darry asks. The Curtis folks used to ask him the same thing. Darry’s filling their shoes as best he can–better than anyone else Johnny knows–but it still feels uncanny hearing the same phrases coming out of his mouth. 

“Not bad. Had to dissect a crayfish in biology.”

“Oh yeah?” Darry smiles. “I remember doing that. We had to do deer hearts too, during hunting season. Dad and some other families brought them in.”

“Did you cut ‘em open?”

“I stuck my fingers through the arteries and everything. The smell hung around the department for days.”

Johnny scrunches his nose. “Gross.”

“Yeah. Nice step up from worms, though.”

They pull into the driveway. Johnny makes to get out, but Darry doesn’t move, only unbuckles and lets the keys slip out of the ignition. He turns to face Johnny. “I opened the tin bank today.”

Dread makes room in his stomach. Not enough, it’s not enough. They cannot afford groceries, not with a revolving door of strays. 

“Soda and Ponyboy said they haven’t put anything in.”

He’s going to get a job. He’ll get a job doing–something. Someone will hire a good-for-nothing greaser, and if they don’t, he’ll have Dallas teach him how to hustle pool. 

Darry’s gaze is piercing. “Have you been adding to it?”

He swallows. “Yeah. I eat a lot, man.”

Darry huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Have you met Soda? Two-Bit? No offense, but you eat like a bird compared to them. You–” he stops, sighs a little. “You don’t owe us anything, kiddo.”

That’s a load of bullshit if Johnny’s ever heard some, but arguing with Darry is firmly against his self-preservation complex. Besides, it’s easier to quietly disagree than to register the option that maybe the Curtis’ really are just that stupid good.

“Johnny?”

Or, worse, that they’re right.

“Thanks, man.” He lets Darry share a smile with him and they pop the doors. 

“No more sneaking us your lunch money,” Darry says as he locks the truck. “You want to help out, do what I tell Ponyboy. Finish school, get a scholarship. Go make a future.”

Johnny watches as he walks up the sidewalk and to the front door. He doesn’t think about his future past the current month. Darry gave his away, and here he is saying all this…stuff, like there’s a changed life somewhere in Johnny’s deck of cards. Maybe it’s up his sleeve, he thinks wryly, as he follows Darry into the house. The swell of warmth and banter and steam from the hot stove envelope him and he lets himself settle into it like a second coat.

Dallas demands a round of blackjack and Two-Bit slaps a cold beer in his hand to hold against his still swollen head, and while Steve and Soda make a righteous mess of being Darry’s sioux-chefs, Ponyboy collapses at his feet with a book in hand and a chewed pencil in his mouth. He tilts his head back to look up at Johnny.

“Wanna go bum a movie tomorrow?”

“Sure.”

The drone of the television scores their slow dispersion into the night, save for Johnny, letting the couch springs dig into his back as he watches occasional passing headlights trace beams up the walls. Here, it’s quiet. 

He rests. 

*****

The first episode of Antiques Roadshow didn’t air in the U.S. until 1997, but we’re gonna pretend that’s just not the case because I said so and think it’s cute. God bless public television programming.

Thank you so much for reading, and please drop a comment or a reblog below! They help so much, and whether it's a thesis or a keyboard smash, each notification truly makes my week.

[stargazersith]

Screw it, here’s some stuff I’ve wrote for my one true love, Kairn Kallig, my SI OC. It’s like one long ass prologue for her (over 4k words), I don’t expect anyone to read it but at least it’s out there. I’m sure we’re all aware but the SI backstory deals with slavery, so that’s in here as well as physical violence and verbal abuse. She’s just generally having a really shitty time.

3 years after the Treaty of Coruscant…

Dust streamed down the broken shaft and into the darkness, billowing like a cumulonimbus cloud until it was all Kairn could breathe in. She coughed and coughed until she tasted blood, as her eyes streamed with tears. A cacophony of voices echoed around her as she desperately tried to gather her bearings, clawing at the ground for grip, ignoring the rattling noises in her skull and the scratching at her throat. She just needed to breathe; to ‘take a moment to quiet her mind’ as Lieutenant Ryyz would say.

Kairn, was a girl of 13 with no surname and no family. She was a slave to the malevolent Sith Lord, Lord Karrion, an eccentric collector who forced her to delve into the tombs of ancient Sith Lords to look for the artefacts he was too cowardly to get for himself. She was a slight, gangly thing, with protruding collar bones and ribs like a bird’s cage. She was so much of nothing in fact, with her dull, brown skin and black, matted hair that one could be forgiven for passing her by without much thought, except perhaps for the fact that she had two extraordinarily bright, green eyes. She’d been bought by Lord Karrion for a measly 170 credits 6 months ago and had been forced to do his work for him since. As he’d told her with an unfeeling smile just before he’d thrust her into the pitch black of the tombs for the first time, he’d sent hundreds of slaves down before and most had never come back, but he had a good feeling about her. She was sure he’d said that to every pawn he’d owned, she wasn’t special. Except that she was. Kairn had one unique characteristic that differentiated her from all the other slaves he’d sent down there; she was force sensitive.

She’d known about it since she’d been four after she’d managed to push something she really shouldn’t have been able to push back on the subterranean agri-farms of Sernpidal. The knowledge of her power had only ever caused her trouble since. Now it was the reason Lord Karrion had picked her to be his slave, and it was the reason she was here shuffling in the darkness, trying to not let her panic overwhelm her.

Something brushed against her hand, so cold it leeched the warmth from her skin. What was that?! She tried spinning around but she couldn’t see anything in the pitch black. The shouting of the other slaves started to settle into something more telligible, “Kairn?” And then a scream followed. More shouting ensued. As she crawled up onto bruised knees, a crack thundered from a distance followed by the emergence of ghostly, white hands. Her dilated pupils ached from the shock but she couldn’t look away as they waved towards her. Was it a ghost?! They were in a tomb after all, it wasn't out of the question. She tried to scramble away but as her back hit a wall, she was forced to watch as the hands neared and her heart drummed in a runaway rhythm. And then a face followed, that of Micah, the oldest slave boy of the group who’d been sent down.

She sighed with relief. He helped her up onto shaky feet as he said, “I broke the illumination rod. The chemical mix should give us some light for a time.”

She nodded. That made more sense than ghosts. “What happened?”

Micah grimaced, “Dobie happened. He freaked out and accidentally set off a trap. And then the floor collapsed beneath us.”

She tried to recollect the moments before everything had fallen in, the tension of the rope tied around her middle, around each of their torsos in fact, the rise in people's voices, the sound of skin slapping. Karrion didn’t just send her down alone to look for artefacts, he sent a group of 10 slaves, all connected by some rope so that they didn’t lose each other in the darkness. Because she was the force sensitive one she’d been put at the front of the group, (Karrion hoped that her sensitivity would lead her towards objects emitting energy), meaning she was far away from the scuffle when it broke out and unable to see it. She’d certainly felt it unfold however, and then gravity had swallowed them all whole.

“And the rest? How many of us are still alive?”

It had been a violent fall amongst the crashing debris and rubble. In fact she was lucky she hadn’t injured herself more. There was a stabbing pain in her left ankle but it was yet to be debilitating and she had scratches all over her body but that was it.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

A wail of pain grew from the shadows. Kairn and Micah looked at each other. Clearly someone else was alive. The sound of whimpering followed, it seemed they also needed help, “We need to go help them.”

Micah hesitated but she was already hobbling towards the sound, her footsteps crunching on the remains of whatever cavern they’d fallen into. Micah quickly followed her bringing the light of his hands with him. “Are you sure about this?”

Of course not. She wasn’t sure of anything. But they weren’t going to escape just by standing around, so she lied, “Of course. The more of us there are alive, the more likely it is we’ll find a way to escape.”

As soon as her words left her lips, they passed by the glazed, dead eyes of Syreen, a girl who’d been at the front of the rope chain with Kairn and who’d acted as the group’s navigator. She’d been a nervous sort of girl, who chewed on the ends of her fingers, and spoke with a stutter, but she’d been kind to Kairn when Kairn had first been brought to Korriban. Syreen had had a memory like a data stick; she’d known the ins and outs of every tight corner and haunted corridor of this twisted place. Now she lay still, back collapsed at an unnatural angle, her chest still as stone. ‘You’ve got a strong stomach Kairn, you can handle this’, she said to herself as she walked past. Still the urge to crumple over, vomit and cry was hard to subdue. That so easily could’ve been her, strewn dead and broken. Micah muttered behind her, some form of prayer for the dead she didn’t quite understand. She didn’t bother with her own. Prayer required some hope for peace, a concept she’d never found appealing. Or real. They moved on with much difficulty, and eventually they reached the sight of the whimpering.

Kairn rushed to the sound. Jayce was grey with pain, his lower body pinned to the ground by a boulder so big they couldn’t see the other side of it. He was shivering with a sheen of sweat all over his body, and as Kairn stroked his hair away from his forehead, she noticed he was cold to the touch. Jayce was a slave just like her, and five years her senior. He’d held her at night when she’d first arrived on Korriban, separated from everyone she’d ever known and loved, and desperate for comfort. He’d rocked her to sleep and whispered into her hair, “You’re okay, you’re safe.” And he’d done it every night for a week straight until she could sleep on her own.

She started crying as Micah tried pushing the boulder, but despite his efforts it didn’t move an inch. He grunted with frustration, “It’s no use. It won’t budge.” He looked down at Jayce and with a trembling voice as if the weight of what he was about to say overwhelmed him, “Maybe we should just leave him behind.”

She shouted, “No!”

“Then what are we going to do Kairn? He can’t move!”

And give up that easily? Is that what he wanted to do? She pushed him to the ground, “Move! I’ll free him.”

Micah was incredulous, “You’re just a little girl, what are you gonna do?”

But she wasn’t listening to him, or to Jayce’s agonised wheezing. She needed to focus. She closed her eyes and placed her palms flat to the boulder. It was wet and slimy with algae. There must’ve been a trickle of water that was seeping down from the surface into the tombs, which meant that there was an opening somewhere, maybe one big enough for them to escape from. But that was immaterial for the moment, she needed to free Jayce. So she listened to the rhythm of her heartbeat, quick and pounding, and tried to slow it down. She counted each breath and slowed them down too, until she could feel the dank air of the tombs rushing in and out each of her nostrils. ‘Let your emotions guide you. Make them into a fist in your mind.’ Ryyz’s words echoed through her mind. She was angry at being down here, angry at Dobie for being such a coward and dragging them all down with him. She hoped he was dead. She was terrified that they’d run out of air down here, that they’d find no way of escaping and that she’d slowly die an unremarkable death as her body gave up from the lack of food and water. She was scared that she wouldn’t be able to free Jayce, that he’d die here in pain. Because why wasn’t this stupid rock moving? Why was it that when she pushed and pushed and pushed, nothing moved?! Why can’t she save him, save herself, do anything with these damn blasted useless powers, given to a slave of all people, someone who’s nothing, who’s dirt in the ground in the scale of the universe? Why, why why?! Why was she here?!

She screamed. The boulder moved. Micah gasped. And then the ground collapsed beneath them all.

——

“Kairn, wake up. We’ll be late for the morning count.”

Was that Myri’s voice? She peeled her eyes open and yawned. Where was she?

Myri shook her shoulders playfully, “Come on sleepyhead. The overseers will have your head again if you’re late.”

Overseers? Morning count? Was she back on Sernpidal? Had Korriban just been one extended horrible nightmare? She burst from her sleeping mat and enveloped Myri in a hug, “Oh I’ve missed you so much. I never thought I’d see you again.”

Myri pulled her back by the shoulders and looked at her strangely, “Missed me? We’re never apart.”

But Kairn persisted and pulled her in again, her head tucked over Myri’s shoulder and by her friend’s lekku. “I’m sorry ok. I’m sorry for everything.”

Myri decided to just let her friend squeeze the breath out of her, “Sorry for what? You haven’t done anything?”

Sorry for being so angry. For threatening to kill you. For that being the last thing I’d ever said to you, Kairn thought. Or what she’d thought was the last thing. “I just- let me hug you,” she pressed chapped lips to her friends cheeks, “and kiss you.” They both collapsed into a fit of laughter, tangled in each other’s arms, and Kairn relished the warmth of her best friend. It had been far too long since she’d felt the touch of another. As she came down from her high of laughter, Kairn whispered, “Let me just miss you, okay?”

The remaining trembles of laughter still remained in Myri for a while but eventually she whispered back, “Okay.”

Heartened by her friend's response, Kairn took her by the hand, ready to run to the front of the field where the slave masters did a daily count of the slaves, “Come on, or we really will be late.”

But Myri’s arm had turned to lead. Kairn looked back and the Twi’lek was staring at the ground, standing eerily still.

“Myri?”

Myri’s voice vibrated with disgust, “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! I’ll slit your throat!”

Kairn started shaking her head, like she could wipe away what she was hearing. This couldn’t be happening. “No, no, it’s not like that.”

Myri glared at her, her hand tightening around Kairn’s in a vice grip, “That’s what you screamed at me, remember? 6 months ago. To this day.”

6 months? So Korriban hadn’t been an awful dream? She really was gone. And she really had said all those awful things to Myri, “Myri please, just listen-“

But Myri wasn’t listening. She’d pushed Kairn to the ground and pinned the smaller girl down by her shoulders, “You would’ve killed me you bitch.”

Kairn was crying again, filled with the tears of a guilty child, “I wouldn’t have, I wouldn’t. I’m sorry. I would never hurt you.”

Myri took Kairn by the shoulders and smashed her into the ground. Kairn’s head smacked against it, and she felt the cool sting of blood oozing from the back of her head. Myri shouted into her face, raw and furious, “I loved you like a sister.”

Kairn didn’t fight back. She looked up into the eyes of her dearest friend, saw the hatred burning there and closed her eyes as Myri pounded her into the ground again.

——

Kairn awoke to the smell of her own blood, and the taste of damp rock in her mouth. It was pitch black again, none of Micah’s light was around, and she couldn’t hear any coughing, or screaming or whimpering anymore. She was truly alone. The thought terrified her. When she tried curling up onto all fours the darkness spun around her and she collapsed onto her front with the overwhelming urge to vomit. The burn of her bile was strong as she hacked up the empty contents of her stomach. She was well and truly trapped now. She had nowhere to go. Despair seemed like the most rational option.

Something cold bushed up her arms again. Something unnatural and sinister. She held her breath, her heart hammering away in her chest. She waited in complete darkness for that feeling to return and as soon as she’d started to convince herself that it had only been a figment of her imagination, it returned to seep the warmth from her face. She started shivering.

She shouted, “Who’s there?” As if she’d get a response and of course she didn’t, until a sickening howling started echoing from behind her at a pitch too painful for human ears. She clasped her hands over her ears and begged the force for it to stop, but it kept howling and howling, screaming like the dying agonies of a whole civilization, until her whole body was shaking and she was screaming along with it. And then she turned to face it, and she shook with so much fear she felt like she could explode. She scratched at the stone, trying to claw her way towards anyone, anything, begging for help. But no one ever came.

——

The next thing Kairn remembered was waking up in a medbay, her fingers bandaged with a fine layer of kolto and her head stuck in some sort of plastic cone. She tried moving around but she was restrained to the bed by her arms, and she struggled to move her head around in the cone. Her shifting seemed to have caught the attention of a med droid, who rolled over to her with a datapad, “Ah, it seems you have awoken. I’ll go fetch Lord Karrion”, it said with its robotic voice.

“Wait-“, But it had already rolled away. Lord Karrion was the last person she wanted to see right now. Unfortunately he arrived by her bedside within the minute, sounding far more cheerful than she’d ever heard him before.

“Ahh, if it isn’t my favourite slave. Get her out of this bed and cone, I need to speak to her at once.”

The droid objected, “But sir-“

“Do it or I’ll scrap you for parts.”

“Yes, as you wish my Lord.”

With what sounded like a heavy sigh, although she wasn’t sure if droids were even capable of that sort of emotion, it unlocked her shackles and carefully unwound the plastic cone. To her surprise she found that her neck still felt intolerably stiff. Had she broken it? Was she going to be paralyzed for the rest of her life? But when she went to touch her throat she felt the familiar feel of cool metal underneath her fingertips. She traced its outline all around her neck, the curve of the emitters, the squareness of the latch at the back. Lord Karrion watched the realisation dawn on her face.

He smiled, “Do you like it? It’s your new shock collar.”

She stared at him blankly. She’d worn one on Sernpidal, every slave had there, but they’d been rudimentary and smaller. Even so the shock from those collars had rendered her unconscious from the pain many times over. This one seemed huge in comparison, and it made her neck ache whenever she tried to move her head.

“I’ll take your silence as a yes. It’s a new model, specially brought in for you. It attaches directly into your spinal cord at the back there, hence why you might be feeling a bit sore. And it has a tracker embedded in it so that I know where you are at all times. I don’t want to lose my most important slave.”

She didn’t know what to say. Well… she had a lot to say but all of it would get her killed immediately, besides she was breathing so harshly it was too difficult to speak anyways. He’d surgically attached a shock collar to her body. He’d violated her with a smile. She felt faint. The skin around her throat started to burn, like her very being was rejecting it. She glanced around the room even if it felt like it was spinning; it was a medbay with several beds and three kolto tanks but she was the only patient in there.

With much effort she managed to choke out a question, her voice hoarse from her endless screaming, “Did anyone else escape?”

Karrion widened his blood red eyes in mock horror, “Escape?! No slave ever escapes me. Oh you mean the tombs? Two others did.”

She hated the sound of hope in her voice when she asked, “Jayce?”

Karrion tilted his head to the side, his golden earrings dangling in the air, catching glints of light from the flashing instruments in the back. “I don’t know who Jayce is but I’m assuming he’s one of your slave friends. The droid can tell you about it, I don’t know anything.”

Of course he didn’t, they were all just expendable commodities to him. The droid ambled over again and started going through a list of each of the slaves they’d recovered. Micah came up, he’d been one of the two to survive, but Jayce’s name hadn’t been on that list. Eventually she asked the droid directly.

It told her, “Jayce’s body has not been found in the three days-“ Three days? How long had she been unconscious?,”-since the incident. According to the accounts of another slave, Jayce suffered from major crush injuries. On two counts.”

Kairn stopped breathing. On two counts. On two counts. She was the second count, she’d caused the second injury, she’d killed Jayce! She looked down at her hands, wrapped in bandages stained with blood that had dried brown and crusted, as a strangled gasp escaped from her tightening chest. “What have I done?”

Karrion intruded into the conversation with about as much tact as a rampaging bantha, “What have you done? You’ve brought me my Sith abattar, the one I’ve been looking for for years.”

But she wasn’t listening. Her mind couldn’t let go of what she’d done. Jayce, crushed and dead and alone because of her. She started whimpering as Lord Karrion continued rambling, “It’s an ancient translator capable of allowing the wearer to understand any language they desire. You hobbled out of the tomb with it clutched in your hands. You got your disgusting blood all over it, but I’ll let it slide just this once. And as a reward for being such a good slave and retrieving it for me, you’re going to be at the dinner I’m hosting tonight. I want to show everyone my new favourite slave. And perhaps, if you’re good, I’ll let you eat some of our food after we’re finished.”

It wasn’t until he’d finally paused for breath that he’d noticed Kairn had fallen into a full body racking sob and wasn’t listening to a word he’d said. She didn’t notice in time as he raised his hand and slapped her hard across the face.

“Stop your snivelling slave and look at me.”

But she only remained ever more hysterical. She missed Myri, she hated Korriban, she’d just killed a boy. She couldn’t bear it.

Karrion was displeased with this. He grabbed her by the scruff of her robes and dragged her off of the bed. She wasn’t able to land on her feet quick enough as he stormed away with her in his hands, so her feet scraped across the floor as she desperately tried to escape his grasp.

“Stop flailing!”

All sense of self preservation was flying out of her, “No!”

He tightened his grasp but remained silent which was almost worse. He was taking down her halls she’d never seen before, filled with intricate golden rugs and paved with gleaming, red and brown tiles. It was more luxurious than anything she’d ever seen in her life. She could hear his servants gasp and anxiously run to the side as they saw him storming along with her in tow. He took her up some stairs that she tripped along and that tore up her knees. Eventually he burst through two double doors, nearly running over the small servant girl who was replacing his towels, and flung Kairn to the edge of his balcony.

“You think you can ignore me?”

She crawled onto all fours and stared at him wide eyed and terrified. He stalked closer and closer until she was forced to scramble back to the edge of his balcony.

He sneered, “Look down.”

She peered over the edge, her heart in her throat and saw two massive tuk’ata hounds prowling a sand pit underneath. They seemed to have sensed her fear and stopped to watch her from a distance, hunger for her flesh ripe in their eyes.

Karrion chuckled, “Like them? They have a taste for force sensitive little girls.” He bent down until his unfeeling eyes were all she could see. “Dare to ignore me again and I’ll throw you into the pit and watch as they tear you apart, limb from limb. I have no use for pathetic, snivelling little girls. Understand?”

She stopped crying. She didn’t want to die. Despite hating everything about her very existence she wasn’t brave enough to end it all now. So she numbed herself to the pain raging inside her, throwing all thoughts of Jayce away and nodded. She was going to survive another day even if it cost her her heart.

——

Later that evening as she stood pin straight in her fresh new clothes, specially prepared for the occasion, and let Karrion’s friends poke her left and right, she gazed up at the starlight. They were outside in his visitors courtyard where he was hosting his guests, with tables overflowing with food and servants at the ready with his most expensive wine. Her hands were shackled together, a symbol of her status amongst the gathering, and she was relegated to the coldest corner of the courtyard, but otherwise she was free to do as she liked. So she stared into the night sky like a dumb, mindless animal and wished to be taken away from here. She wished she was back on Sernpidal, near Myri again, somewhere familiar and warm. She never thought she’d miss a subterranean farm and yet here she was, willing the sky away for a chance to see her friend. But that wasn’t going to happen. She was trapped here, perhaps forever, yearning for freedom. And she had to learn to accept that if she wanted to survive. She must. Except Kairn never did learn to accept it. She was stubborn like that, strong willed, headstrong, and a perfect candidate for a certain set of Sith trials many, many years later…

[pubbydreams]

𝐢'𝐦 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢 𝐰𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐠𝐨) ⁠— [𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐞𝐰]

pairing: steddie fic summary: after two months of ignoring their increasing thoughts about one another, steve and eddie struggle to put themselves out of their misery. fic content notes: depiction of an autistic meltdown, internalized homophobia, nsfw - mdni, referenced past child abuse (emotional & verbal). preview notes: angst (i think that's it but pls let me know otherwise) preview wc: 793

“One,” she retorts, “I’m an academic scholar—”

“Ruth was an academic scholar,” he snorts.

“I was Rose, dingus. And fine, maybe she didn’t, but what, was I supposed to just leave you out here sulking all by yourself?” She stresses like he’s completely out to lunch.

“I’m— I wasn’t sulking!” He sneers, furious at just how quickly and easily she’s able to burrow under his skin.

“Steve, I could hear you wallowing from the other side of campus,” she whines, “it was majorly messing with my mojo.”

If he’s being honest with himself, he’s not sure what to say to that, and he’s way too tired to try to come up with something witty or sarcastic, so he just drops it. Anyway, she’s technically right, ‘cause he’s absolutely sulking. Not that he can really help it, but whatever.

“So…”

His heart may have finally calmed down, but her tone spikes his anxiety right back up again. If she’s going to dance around whatever it is, it must be bad, and he really doesn’t want to deal with bad right now, but he’d rather deal with it now than in five minutes or however long it takes for her to get to the point.

“Robin, whatever it is just say it, alright?” He begs, palms going a little sweaty.

She sucks a deep breath in through her teeth, and stretches her arms in front of her, biding her time in spite of him. Asshole.

“No, it’s nothing,” she lies, “I just wanted to know how you and Eddie are doing.”

“Me and Eddie?” He asks, ears going hot at the idea of there being a ‘him and Eddie.’

“Yeah, I mean, you’ve got this weird thing going on, right?” She probes, suddenly really fascinated by the zipper on her backpack.

Alright, yeah, no, he’s not dealing with this.

“There is no thing going on,” he corrects.

“OK,” Robin mutters before ticking off his sins on her fingers, “I catch you canoodling in the den, you invite him to the pool party, the two of you disappear for like, an hour, then he runs out without saying goodbye—which you got super sad over, by the way—and, like, every single time I’ve mentioned him this last week you’ve gotten all weird.”

“I do not get weird!” He protests. “And we were not canoodling!”

As much as he hates to admit it, she’s right, and it sucks. What’s worse is that it’s been that obvious. In his own head, he’s actually been kind of proud of himself, thinking he’s done an alright job at hiding just how much it hurts to constantly be left with an Eddie shaped hole in his chest. What happened to him? He used to be better at hiding things, didn’t he?

She frowns, and it looks like it’s made of pity which makes him sick. “Look, Steve, as much as it pains me to say it, you’re my best friend. Do you really think I wouldn’t notice—"

“Robin. There’s nothing to notice. We’re friends. It’s just…it’s taking a bit to break in,” he insists, hating how goddamn defensive he sounds.

As far as best friends go, he’s really lucked out because the minute things get too heavy, she always backs out. Things are just about as heavy as they can get outside of the world ending, so he watches as the fight drains out of her.

“Fine, I’ll drop it. But Steve, in the Upside down…I know what it looks like to look at someone the way he looks at you,” she confesses, her words coming out all slow and serious.

As far as best friends go, he’s not sure he’s got a good one, ‘cause for as much as she claims to know about him, Robin doesn’t know a damn thing. If anything, he’s the one looking at Eddie. If anything, he’s the Robin, and Eddie’s Tammy Thompson. Yeah, sure, Eddie’s eyes are technically on him, but it’s temporary and doesn’t mean much more than a shaky friendship and mutually beneficial whatever. The look she thinks she’s seeing isn’t there. He should know.

“It’s not like that,” he stresses through a mutter.

She doesn’t believe him, obviously she doesn’t believe him, and she’s looking at him with so much understanding and disappointment he just wants to shrivel up and die.

“OK,” she says just as quietly.

It isn’t there, and it’s never going to be there, and the sooner he, and Robin, and whoever else accepts that, the better. Even if he’s going to milk every single second of Eddie’s attention—and do everything in his power to keep the focus on him—it’s silly and destructive to pretend that it means any more than it does.

hai, i'm pubby! if you enjoyed this little excerpt, please consider checking out the full fic on ao3!! have a great day!! ૮ ᴖﻌᴖა

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