#man check out these colours and scenery

[ladylaviniya]

Spirit of Christmas Past

Masterlist || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: You are greeted by the Spirit of Christmas and he decides to confront your past and punish your stubborn behaviour.

Pairing: Chris Evans x f!reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Manipulation, Dead Parents Description, Verbal Abuse, P in V sex, Rough Sex, Choking, Fingering, Humiliation, Heart Break, Ghosts, Swearing, Alcoholic Use, Classism.

Word Count: 9k

A/N: Please to all readers, understand I don't have a beta editor and I can miss some mistakes because most my typing is on the bus to work when I get the time to write. ALSO this is my attempt at the naughty or nice challenge using: 18. “If you didn’t want this, you’d behave.” @the-slumberparty an event challenge created by @navybrat817 & @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

12:59am 25th December 2023, New York City.

Among the nothingness of sleep, you could hear in the distance the sound of little bells jingling. You groaned, cracking your eyes open slowly. The sound was becoming more persistent and volumed.

It was freezing! The management still hadn’t fixed the heating system. You shivered and dug deeper into the duvet layers of your bed. You reached for your phone to check the time.

“Merry fucking Christmas,” you grumbled before rolling over onto your back. All memory of Marlene’s visit had disappeared from your mind.

You stared up at the plain ceiling. Your eyes grew hazy while your mind dissociated into thought. A single tear rolled from your eye.

God, you hated Christmas so much. You tried ignoring all the years. You tried pushing back the pain. You tried thinking about your jobs and tasks still incomplete. You tried not to think about how lonely you were, how unfulfilled you felt deep down. A mean tug at your chest made you hiss.

The ceilings image morphed into spots and shapes of different kinds...and when you chose to focus your eyes you could see the flecks of shadow clashing with light, wrapping and drawing out the shape of a person walking towards you.

You leant back and felt the mattress still under you. What you were seeing had to be part of some strange dream. You concluded you’d fallen back to sleep.

Gravity didn’t apply in this scenery.

The ceiling opened up, glowing in a soft calming light. The figure kept walking it’s way towards you. The closer he got the more you could acknowledge his face and good looks. He was lean and clean shaven, a depiction of youth. His hair was the colour of dark roasted chestnuts. He wore a white sweater.

‘Woah, what a weird dream...but look at how handsome he is.’

As if he heard your thoughts loud and clear he smiled with sparkling white teeth. Still unsure of reality, you lifted your hand up high to the ceiling. He did the same. He reached out with his palm out.

Your finger tips touched and you gasped at how warm and inviting he felt. Your mind ran filthy. You bit your bottom lip before lurching off the bed to the ceilings opening window into the handsome man’s arms. You swore you knew him. Something about that smile. You couldn’t place it though. Butterflies filled your insides.

His eyes were a blue that matched mountains. His cheeks sharp and strong but that smile was ageless.

You shyly bit the tip of your finger and giggled, “Kiss me.”

He cupped your face and accepted your advance without hesitation. His lips leant forward and met your starved mouth.

He was slow, sweet like vanilla. He pulled away and nibbled at your lips, sucking and licking with you. He was perfect. You were the first to pull away, panting and mewling. Your body rubbed up against his again. One of his arms cupped your back while his other hand cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over your bottom lip.

You felt his muscles, his hot body. His arms tightly held you, protecting you from the world and claiming you as his.

In your head this all made sense. Deep down you had met before, but where...God where had you met him? It ached not knowing fully.

Pulling away you moaned, “Fuck me. Please.”

You took his ginormous hands and pressed them against your breasts. Only a thin piece of satin separated your skin to his skin. You knew he’d be able to feel your nipples pebbling under his palms.

You kissed and nibbled along his jaw, panting, “I’m not wearing anything underneath.” And that was true. You underwear had gone missing after you had played with your toy while imagining a rape play scene. You looked up at him with doe eyes fluttering. Your fingers pinched the hem of your night gown. He smirked, his fingers danced up your thighs, and by your surprise....he forced your hem down.

His eyes burned bright blue, almost glowing as the world around you both faded black. His head shook lightly at you, his wet lips parted, and he whispered into the open air, “Be not afraid Y/N as I shine the light on your past.”

Your head jerked back, your eyes squinted, ‘What the fuck?’

The question filled your mind and escaped through your lips, “Who are you?”

The handsome stranger rubbed his thumbs into your palms and said with heralding tones, “I am he who sees past, present and future tidings upon the grandeur of Christmas day. I am The Spirit of Christmas. But you…may call me Chris.”

“Chris?” You blinked and rebuffed in an fit of laughter. You shook your head, disbelieving and feeling that heat of anger rise.

“The Spirit of Christmas,” you cackled, “I really did have too much to drink to be having weird dreams like this. You kiss me and tell me that you’re some mystic being?”

His lips flicked up, bemused, “You asked for that kiss, I merely obliged such a sweet request.”

Humiliation bloomed in the pit of your belly. You felt hot in the face and grit your teeth.

His thumbs ran over the pulse of your wrists, his eyes were crowned in a false innocence.

Your eyes glowered in seconds, “Go fuck yourself, Chris,” you fumed.

You shoved his hands away and turned around trying to imagine something else, hoping the dream would change or you would wake up. You stumped short and jumped back as your path was blocked by a horrific sight. A naked woman in the darkness, chained and kneeling at your feet. Marlene.

The memories flood back into your mind. Her ethereal form floating your bed with her frozen heart and warning words. Except she was no ghost in this form. She was hauntingly thin like a skeleton, the loos skin of her belly and breasts hung down, her skin was discoloured and sickly, her cheeks hallowed and her hair thin, balding. Her teeth were black, gums rotten, her chest made this awful whistling noise as she struggled to breath. Her finger nails were red and cracked. She was chained to the floor. She looked up at you with sad bloodshot eyes, shaking her head at you.

“Go with him Y/N, he is your last chance…” she shivered as if a cold wind had prickled her flesh. Her head hung low.

His heavy hand laid down bearing weight onto your shoulder. You gasped and looked back at him with fear. His face appeared mournful as he acknowledged Marlenes decrypted state. Those blue eyes you were enchanted by moments ago sent an icy chill down your spine as his attention turned to you.

“Come,” he softly beckoned, “Let this soul pay it’s penance…”

You licked your dry lips and tried to keep your cool without revealing your fear. You nodded, not chancing your voice breaking in an exchange. His palm held back out to you. You glared at him. With defeat and the tiniest tremble in your fingers, you finally tucked your hand into his, feeling his warm fingers wrap around you, you had to admit, it felt nice. He squeezed it softly and walked, guiding you away from the living corpse of Marlene’s soul.

After some time of walking away until Marlenes image disappeared.

The shadows felt literally heavy, weigh you down in what felt like a fight against gravity. You recalled a time you trudged through the snow up to your waist. It felt like this, yet there was only silence.

His hand was still wrapped around yours, tugging you forward mercilessly.

You felt like you could have tripped in the black abyss.

“Sp-spirit?” you finally dared to ask, “Spirit…where are you taking me?”

And then he stopped. You could hear his sigh and felt the air around you grow colder. This sexy dream had quickly turned into a foreboding nightmare. A flame of light flickered in the palm of his other hand, it was like supernatural magic.

He pulled you in closer and his other hand came around and slapped your backside.

You shrieked and tried shoving him back, “Ow! What the hell! That hurt!”

He chortled, “Yes, the past can hurt, especially yours,” his finger scratched under your chin, “But it can also heal if you learn from it.”

The floor beneath your feet disappeared and you both plummeted into the darkness again. You screamed as your belly lifted up into your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut and felt the spirit hug you tighter, your fingers desperately squeezed the wool of his sweater.

And then the falling stopped, and your screaming died down into violent pants. He still held you and then placed you softly down onto the ground below your feet.

His smile was gentle, “Here we are.”

05:00pm Christmas Eve, 1999, Texas, Austin.

Finally, you dared to open your eyes. Your hands were still clawed into his thick sweater when you looked around at your surroundings. It was a living room inside a trailer home. Red tinsel had been taped to walls. A small Christmas tree stood in the corner between the space of a couch and a basinet. Poorly drawn pictures of baubles, stars, Santa and elves had been scattered over the floor.

‘Ugh.’ Christmas decorations…but no, hold on…you knew this place.

And a soft hum of Jingle Bells filled your ears. You gasped. You knew who it belonged to in an instant. You let go of the Spirit and looked behind you.

A woman in the kitchen was opening a packet of biscuits, placing each one on a plastic plate. She was younger than you while sharing a likeness in appearance. The home smelt like gingerbread while she began to pour a cup of milk. She placed the cup on the small coffee table, sighing as she ran her palm over the swell of her protruding belly under her dress.

“M-mom?” you said shakily, “Mom is that…oh god mom! I missed you so much.”

You raced forward with your arms spread wide, seeking to hug her. As you closed your arms around her, you stumbled and fell hard to the floor onto your knees.

“Fuck!” you hissed and heard the mocking snicker come from the Spirit.

You twisted your body and sat back on your hands. You looked up and back at your mother, confused and dazed. Her feet were not on top of you, standing on you, but rather, she was standing inside and walking through you. You jumped in fright and crawled backwards, watching how she walked through you transparently.

“M-mom?” you whimpered, scared and confused. When she didn’t answer your voice filled with panic, “Mom!”

The Spirit, holding his hands behind his back chuckled, looking between you both.

You shouted, “What the hell is wrong with her!?”

His laughter pulled back and he hummed with a smile, “There’s nothing wrong, she can’t see you or hear you. These are but shadows of things that have been. They have no consciousness of us.”

She totally ignored you as she lowered herself onto the couch.

The Spirit held his hand out to you to help you up from the floor. You slapped it away and used the wall for stability. He didn’t appear offended or surprised by your viperous habits. You shoved past him and fell to your knees in front of her.

“Mom?” you said a little more gently.

You reached out to touch her shoulder. Your fingers went straight through her. Your eyes watered. She looked up from her belly and her lips spread into her perfect smile. Her eyes glittered, “Honey, can you please grab the cookies for Santa?”

Your face lit up and you nodded desperately, scooting back off your knees to fetch the cookies from the small kitchenette, but before you could step forward, you heard the tiny squeak of a child, “Okay, mommy!”

And from the corner of your eye you saw her... next to the tree was a little girl in a plaid dress and pig tails with plaid scrunchies, laying on her belly, kicking her feet back in forth with a crayon in her little chubby hand scribbling a poor drawing of a reindeer. It looked more like a cow with antlers.

“Is that…”

The little girl crawled to her feet and skipped to the kitchen, she looked so small compared to the plate she carried back to the living room and placed it onto the coffee table proudly put the beside the milk.

You stood up and took a small step back. You bumped into the Spirits chest, “Is that me?”

He laid his hand on your lower back. He watched you watching your much younger self.

He hummed, “Yes, you were seven years old here I believe.”

‘Yes, just before Caroline was born.”

Your mom leant forward and grabbed the little girl by the waist, tugging her back and peppered kisses all over her small giggling face while her fingers tickled her sides until she begged her to stop.

“Love you my little troublemaker,” she whispered against the tiny cheek.

“I love you too mommy,” you and your younger self said in sync. This, the Spirit noted with a calm expression. He walked around the room. The smaller girl version of yourself ran through him as he perched himself on the arm of couch and cocked his head at the drawings scattered along the floor.

“You had talent, you know?” he mused.

A slam of the front door made you jump. Your father with a big welcoming grin came home shortly after. The little girl cheered excitedly, running off to show him the drawing she drew for him. He picked her up and threw her in the air before catching her again despite the disapproving look your mother gave him.

“Daddy! Daddy! Look!” the little girl said giving him the picture, “Merry Christmas!”

He laughed with pure mirth and delight, his eyes squinted at the image, and he nodded.

You smirked; he had no fucking clue what the kid version of you had drawn.

“It’s beautiful babygirl, it’s ah…ah…”

He glanced over at your mother who mouthed the word back, “Reindeer.”

His eyes widened and his voice lilted, “A reindeer! Just for me!? Thankyou sweetheart,” he kissed her cheek, “I can’t wait to show all my friends this at work.”

He placed her safely down on the floor and walked over to your mother before sitting on the couch beside her. He put the picture on the coffee table and leant in to kiss his wife. Child you turned away and stuck out her tongue, in total disgust because ‘boys kissing girls was gross!’

“And how’s mommy been?” your father purred, laying a hand on her belly, his thumb lazily rubbed back and forth.

“Tired,” she groaned, “Little peanut is coming any day now. I can feel her kicking my rib cage, I think she’s planning her escape and wants to rocket out,” she breathed hard, her hand softly laced into her, holding it over the spot where your baby sister was kicking her feet.

You chewed your bottom lip and glanced at the Christmas Spirit who was grinning at the little girl in her pig tails and plaid.

You felt strange. And the strangeness was uncomfortable. Nausea filled your tummy.

“If this is a memory of just the past, “ you started wobbly, “Does that mean...everything is the same as it once was?”

“Yes, that’s right,” acknowledged the Spirit.

You smirked, “Good.” You twisted around on your heel and marched down the hallway that connected to your tiny bedroom.

A small surprised noise escaped you at seeing how pink and purple everything was coloured. On the walls was a my little pony poster. On your floral bed covers was your favourite Bratz doll. You sat down on the tiny bed and sighed before burying your face into your hands.

You tried sneezing. You tried slapping your face. You even got up and started doing jumping jacks. You would do anything to try and wake yourself up! A tiny knock broke your concentration, and you gasped coming face to face with the Spirit of Christmas. He was leaning against the doorway, holding back his laughter.

You sneered at him and sat back on the bed, panting softly. You tried remembering his name; calling him Spirit felt tedious.

“Chris was it?” you spat mockingly, “Is that because your name's Christmas?”

He dug his hands into his pockets, his smile unfaltered, “Nah, I just liked the name, it fits. My real name you wouldn’t be able to say because it hasn’t been said by the tongue of man.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yea okay whatever,” you dismissed sourly, “So, what the fuck is this? Huh? Is this some kind of sick game, are you trying to hurt me?”

Your throat grew tight. You couldn’t believe what was happening and why of all people this was happening to you. What did he even want? Was this just some insane plot to blackmail you?

“Well, guess what,” your chin jerked out at him, “I’m not scared, I’m not hurt. In fact I’m thrilled!” you showed off your laughter, forced from your lungs.

His smile softened, “Ah, but why is your lips trembling? And...what’s that I see?”

He took a large step forward and stood above you. You laid back, flinching at his hand reaching down to you face. Your heart thudded loudly.

His finger was hot on your cheek, it rolled up and brushed your skin. He pulled back the finger, rolling it into his knuckle and moved it between your eyes to show you something

On his finger was a drop of moisture.

“A tear?” he whispered, “What ever for?”

Your face felt hot and you blinked away the others that escaped your lashes, you sucked in a deep breath and rubbed your nose.

You let out a fake nervous laugh, “Please, you think I’m crying? Have you not seen how dusty this house his? I’m just having allergies.”

Little did you know, the Spirit could see beyond your lies.

He sat down beside you on your bed and placed his large hand on your knees.

You felt vulnerable. You didn’t want him here, you didn’t want to be here. And what was worse was his silence. He did not speak for a long while. The only noises were the sounds of the little girl and her parents in the living room.

You sighed and looked at the floor. You missed this point in your life. Things were simpler. You were so oblivious to the world and it’s harms.

“Your father sounds incredibly proud,” The Spirit said, his thumb ran over your skin.

Your eyes fluttered and you nodded.

“Did you know he told you the truth? About your picture?”

You eyed him cautiously.

He snapped his fingers and your bedroom faded into an office space. You were sitting on a dark oak desk. Seeing the boxy computer with twistable speakers struck you with nostalgia.

11:00am 26th December, 1999, Texas, Austin.

Your dad came through the office door, holding a piece of paper. Your picture.

He pinned it to a cork board and one of his colleagues that followed him in jokingly asked, “What’s with the Picasso cow?”

Your dad huffed back, “Hey man, it’s a reindeer and for your information, my daughter made it for me. And I’m lucky to have it. What did your kids get you?”

The coworker snorted and muttered under his breath, “A phone call asking about Child support, always check if the condom is ripped my friend.”

The two men left, bantering between each other.

You looked at the photo of your dad, your mom, seven year old you and a baby Caroline. It was a Polaroid taken in the hospital. Your mom had little Caroline just before the new year. You all looked so happy. You loved being a big sister, you couldn’t stop leaving baby Caroline alone, eager for her to grow up and become your best friend. Were there times she annoyed you? Yes, she was your sister after all. But Caroline had a heart of gold.

The Spirit touched the photo and asked with mirth, “Such a beautiful family...whatever happened?”

You didn’t answer. You slid off the desk and marched out of the office door only to somehow walk right back inside...you gasped and turned back around but when you opened the door to leave it was like staring into a mirroring space.

You poked your head out of the office only for it to be poking back inside through the same door.

It was the strangest paradox that you had come to find.

The Spirit sucked his teeth and shook his head, “Yea, funny that...so here’s the deal...you are going to follow my rules.”

‘Asshole doesn’t know what a deal is.’

He stood away from the cork board and sat down in your father’s rolling desk chair, stacking his feet up onto the wood loudly.

Your hands protectively wrapped around yourself. His pupils seemed to expand and shrink quickly like a cat. Your skin crawled.

“What rules?” You scoffed, “Are these a part of your test?”

He nodded once, “Yes. See for this whole thing to work, you have to comply and participate...meaning,” he shoved away from the desk and launched from the chair to walk fast towards you, causing you to walk backwards and hit the wall behind you, his hand grabbed and squeezed your jaw, from his teeth he seethed, “When I ask a question.. you answer it. Or I could just leave you here...forever.”

Your eyes watered, your chest heaved sporadically, “L-leave me here?”

His eyes fluttered, “Oh I’m sorry, you didn’t think this would have consequences?” His nose pressed to yours as he remarked, “Your little friend Marlene is stuck haunting your apartment for that reason. She’s stuck in a loop in which she can never escape. She gets to watch you everyday moving into her apartment and moving all her possessions around. I could leave you here and do the same. I could let you re-watch your father hang up your picture for eternity.”

His bright blue eyes darkened almost totally black. At that point you couldn’t tell if he was a good spirit or an unholy one.

You swallowed hard with a whimper and squeezed shut your eyes. His hot breath tickled your ear.

“I can be merciful...so...” his thumb rubbed over your bottom lip, peeking out from your eyes you thought he might kiss you, “Let’s try again...”

When he released you and turned back to the cork board he clicked his fingers. You collapsed from the wall to your knees, too weak and shaky to hold you up after his dominant spell. Piles of work paper flew around the room, around his head, his eyes raced over the pages, the words turned glowing gold as he read over them with his supernatural powers.

“Your family looked stable enough for their poor income. You lived a decent childhood...” He looked over his shoulder, his eyes hard and demanding, “What happened that changed it all?”

You bowed your head cowering as you whispered, “You already know.”

The papers that swirled in a storm around him floated softly down to the floor in front of you. The ink of the printed words began morphing into swirling shapes and colours.

The Spirit said, “I’d like it if you told me. That’s how this works. We analyse what really happened compared to what you think happened.”

Your eyes stared at the colours in the ink rise, painting the image of a snow covered alley way from nightmares years ago. You gasped. Your mother, you and your sister were all walking down from the entrance. You clenched the front of your nightgown and desperately blabbered into begging. Tears ran down your face. It didn’t take much effort knowing what was to come.

“Please don’t make me watch it.”

You tried to move the papers away but the pages fought back in nasty stinging paper cuts.

Your covered your face and eyes before hearing the mystic being bellow, “Put your hands down!”

Half screaming you sobbed, “No, please! I can’t do it! Please!”

You stood up on your feet and threw yourself into him. He did not hold you and let you fall at his feet. He did crouch down and rub both his thumbs over your snot covered lip.

“Please,” you choked, his finger pressed to you mouth. He shook his head and softly hushed you. He cupped the back of your neck and moved his mouth to ghost along your lips.

You hiccuped and opened your mouth, waiting for him to just conquer a kiss. He almost did with how his tongue tickled your lips and teeth when he icily repeated, “Dont forget I can leave your here. And you can watch it over and over and over. Be a good girl. Tell me what happened.”

He sat on the floor and tugged you into his arms and lap. You buried your face into his neck and hiccupped again.

“C-caroline was nine and I was sev-seventeen...Mom took us Christmas shopping. We were gonna buy something for Dad. A watch. A really fucking nice watch because dad had a big promotion in New York coming up...on our way back home, a drunken asshole with a broken bottle threatened to kill us if we didn’t give him our bags. We complied and mom made sure to step in front of us. He got angry because it wasn’t a Rolex...he then...”

You broke down again and clenched Chris’ white sweater tightly. His fingers raced up and down your spine slowly and tempered, hushing you until you managed to start talking again.

“What did this man do?”

The pages turned dark burgundy red.

Your but your bottom lip and sniffled, “He punched the broken bottle into Moms’ belly. It was so sharp it cut through her jacket, her skin and fat all the way into her liver. There was nothing Caroline and I could do. We tried to stop the bleeding with our coats. But When paramedics arrived ....she had bled to death. I watched her choke on it.”

You wiped your tears and snot across his shoulder, the soft wool soaked it up. His strong hands pulled you closer into him. You straddled his hips, curling your legs around his back. Your night gown hem rose up around your nude hips. His body was so warm. He was like a blanket around you.

“She died, protecting us,” you gulped, “She died over a fucking watch because some greedy homeless drunk wanted money for some booze.”

The Spirit clucked his tongue, “Your mother passed and your father?”

Your tears had calmed down significantly, you covered yourself to sit on his thigh instead of balancing on just his lap. You twisted your body and stared at the moving pictures on the papers.

Your dad came to image. The black beneath his eyes and the sunken cheeks were not the man you wished to remember. He lit a cigarette and pressed a bottle to his lips.

“Dad got his promotion and we moved to Manhattan but...Mom’s death really took a toll on him.”

You were making paper angels on the floor with your sister. You hung them up together in her room. There was no Christmas tree. It was the Christmas after your mom’s death and before you left for college. It was the last Christmas you shared with Caroline.

The sweet ten year old was wise and emotionally matured than others her age. It was how she processed your moms death. Caroline at only ten was able to keep you and your father from experiencing more heart ache and grief.

You watched the two girls climbed under a blanket and play with a flashlight. You pushed over her wrist a rubber band loomed bracelet with her favourite colours. She gave you three fruity scented rubbers and a pencil she had been rewarded by her teacher at school.

“I used that pencil until the tip was impossible to hold,” you whispered and felt Chris’ warm wet lips press against your temple, he rocked you like you were the most fragile thing in the room. Maybe you were.

“She still keeps your rubber band bracelet in her bedside table...she wore it to the birth of your nephew,” The spirit stated.

You choked and cupped your hand over your mouth. You hadn’t cried so hard and so much in years not since-

“And then you left for College.”

You sucked in a deep and painful breath. You nodded and clenched your hand into a fist.

“College wasn’t so bad. I had my fun like everyone else,” you lied.

“Did you?” Chris smirked, “Let’s have a look at that then? Shall we?”

8:00pm 23rd December, 2012, New York University.

Your father’s desk morphed into a pool table.

It was the party of the season. Sororities and fraternities came together. You weren’t a member of a sorority. You chose to believe stand offishly that sororities were of a hive cult mind. It wasn’t worth networking in such a unnecessary club and housing.

You didn’t have friends in college either. You didn’t make yourself approachable. Always sitting at the front of the class room and never smiling. You were the dedicated pupil and that made you into the coldest fish of the school.

Your professors approval and marks is all you cared about. The more successful, the more opportunities and the more chances of gaining success enough to maybe look after your little sister. That originally was the goal.

You watched with Chris as a gaggle of Kappa delta girls giggled passed by a young girl no older than nineteen holding a red cup close to her chest. She looked disdainful and tired. She was wearing a basic white thankyou with a cotton scarf and jeggings. Thick black glasses at on the edge of your nose. You laughed awkwardly looking at the past youth. Your recalled your hipster phase in college but didn’t remember you looking this horrendous and mismatched. Your hair...you shuddered. You never did that style again.

“Fun party!” Chris called over your shoulder. He wore a red Christmas hat and in the crook of his lip was a party blower. The lights and music were obnoxiously jolly and hip hop rap remixes found on YouTube. You know YouTube? When it’s common the iPhone one was still a little television and not the red play button we know today. So many people were growing nuts over these two Neanderthals on a channel called “Smosh” at the time, maybe they were trying to mimic that movie of dipshits called Jack Ass.

Yes...party...you had been invited and you almost said no...but your mother’s death anniversary was coming up and you felt it appropriate to seek the comfort of other people and illicit items to take the pain away for a night. The young woman continued to help herself to the eggnog, standing right beside the table, spooning the goop into her red cup

You tried forgetting about the drunk monster that stabbed your mother all those years ago.

“A naughty freshman?” Chris chuckled, breaking you away from your thoughts.

He floated to the eggnog bowl and grinned,.“Barely a woman and breaking the rules, I wouldn’t have pegged you as a rebel.”

You rolled your eyes, “Hardly,” before walking over to sit on the edge of the pool table. Some guys were playing with their cues and balls. They walked through you as they passed by. One of them you remembered very well and tried your best to not acknowledge.

“It’s how you met him though...isn’t it?” said Chris, looking between the young woman and a young man playing at the table.

The man was handsome. Tall and dark. His eyes a burnt burgundy that sent the younger you thrills down your spine.

The young woman leaning in her corner and sipping her sorrows away was eyeing the game keenly. It looked...fun.

The very ass she looked upon was found and shaped with strong thighs and calf’s under those denim jeans. The ass belonged to a man. And that man turned around once he caught her staring in the corner of his eye.

He smirked and finished the game before swaggering over your way. Even now you still admired how good looking he was.

Chris was looking him up and down, smiling and cockily mimicking the walk but this time back to you so you could both watch the events of your forlorn past.

“Hey, aren’t you in my maths class?” The man asked leaning over her with just his right arm.

She ignored him initially, shrugging as a reply.

He chuckled, “You’re that weird chick that sits at the front right?”

Her eyes flickered back and her lip curdled, “And you’re that obtuse moron that doesn’t know the difference between algebra and calculus equations?”

Chris chuckled, “There you are. I was wondering when you’d come out to play.”

You felt a twinge ashamed. Is that how others saw you all the time? An uptight, haughty bitch? You remained quiet.

“Well...I find I act my dumbest when I’m around beautiful ladies,” said the confident man, “I get all nervous and stuff.”

“Nervous and stuff?” She repeated slowly, flicking her tongue deliberately against her teeth to sound out each precious syllable.

God, it made you cringe to watch yourself.

He leant in closer and pressed his nose to hers, his eyes glanced up and he said heatedly, “You’re standing beneath a mistletoe.”

Before he could officially kiss her, Chris clapped his hands and world the room around. He grabbed your wrist and made sure to stand you on his shoes as the people and party disappeared into books on shelves.

4:00pm 23rd December, 2013, New York University.

The pool table melted down into the shape of a smaller desk and chair. That same girl was sitting at it with her head in a book and her pen against the page. The sky outside was dark. It was snowing lightly beyond the windows.

That man from the party now wore a dark blue jumper and sweatpants, he wandered up beside her, sipping a starbucks milkshake.

She moved the thick black rim glasses from her face. Her fingertips rubbed circles into her eyes before returning back to the important reading material. Dark shadows bagged beneath her eyes.

“You were a dedicated student,” said Chris, his hands lingered up your spine and wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You nodded. You were.

The loud sucking of the man’s Starbucks cup made her slap the book close.

With her tight voice she snootily scolded him, “You know you’re not allowed food and drink in the library.”

He smirked, “Whatcha gonna do miss goodie goodie? Gonna tell on me? Gonna take my drink away?” he shook it, the ice cubes rattled I side.

He chuckled and chewed the straw. His eyes glanced at you up and down.

“Youre kinda hot...in a weird nerdy way you know?” he chuckled.

Both younger you and the you if now rolled your eyes and scoffed. But you knew the younger version was naive and how so many of those one liner comments got you into the most destructive relationship of your life.

The young man stole her book from the desk and ran off with it. Her shriek became laughter as she quickly collected her bag and pencils to chase after him.

The Spirit held you when he stood behind you His hands cradled your arms and hip, rocking you slowly, side to side. He watched the interaction of two young people deep into their puppy love with a great fascination over his face.

“Who was the handsome beau?”

“Anthony Mackie...the schools best hockey player and class clown idiot,” you muttered.

Chris hummed with pleased curiosity, “Is that all?”

You grabbed at his wrists and squeezed them tightly. You pressed your head back into his chest and sighed.

“He was my boyfriend,” you said quietly to Chris.

The library seemed to fast forward. Outside the seasons changed from winter, spring, summer fall and back to winter again. She was sitting back in the same desk again. Her eyes were still tired and now she wore a little more makeup to conceal it. Her eyes were glued to the pages, racing to read and write notes. Her ipod shuffle earphones were half broken, crackling each time unless you held the cord in a specific way.

And a soft humming slipped from her lips, totally immersed in her study.

“Oh, oh, where do we begin? The rubble or our sins?”

Chris side glanced you and you side glanced him. Without the music, her crackly voice just sounded like a dying bird.

“And the walls kept tumbling down in the city that we love. Grey clouds roll over the hills bringing darkness from above.”

“An awful drawer and a terrible deaf tone singer,” he laughed, “I didn’t think I would learn so much about the things you’re bad at.”

You had to admit, he was right. You stomped hard onto his foot. His lips puckered and his eyes squeezed in his silent pain.

“Oops,” you feigned ignorance, “Guess I’m bad at watching my step too.”

“But if you close your eyes,” she sang a little louder and you felt that second hand humiliation wave through you hard, “Does it almost feel like nothing changed at all? And if you close your eyes..Does it almost feel like you’ve been here befor-”

Behind her, Anthony came whistling around a corner and stuck his head into the study nook, stealing her head phone from her ear and kissed her cheek hard.

She smiled and just as quickly frowned.

“C’mon babe,” said Anthony, “Sebastian’s throwing a killer basement bash for the holidays. Let’s go to the party.”

The college girl laughed mockingly at her boyfriend, “I’m sorry, did you forget that we have a test tomorrow? I don’t have time to go out wasting it away with your degenerate friends.”

Chris hands sneakily ran down over your thighs and slipped beneath the night gown to cup your belly. Your breath hitched. You couldn’t tell if you were aroused or disgusted anymore. Why of all times and places was he groping you now?!

“Baby,” the hockey player sighed, “You’re the smartest chick I know. I’m sure you’ll pass tomorrow. A little bit of dancing and drinking won’t change that.”

“No,” she firmly hissed and turned her head back to your book. Anthony’s chest deflated.

“Anthony just wanted to party all the time,” you scoffed to Chris, “He was so horny and stupid I can’t believe I actually dated him.”

He gave you a side ways glance, his thumb rubbed tiny circles into your skin.

“So you dumped him?” he asked looking between you and your younger studying self.

Sheepishly you looked away and shrugged, “...not exactly...it’s complicated.”

“Enlighten me,” he whispered into your ear, kissing your cheek after.

Your body grew warmer by the second especially in places you wouldn’t have guessed. Your insides felt alive and buzzing. It was so wrong.

“...I...” Anthony paused and took a few moments to break out his voice, “I can see your studies are more important than me, huh? We haven’t hung out in ages and...you’re never taking a break from study to enjoy life with me... Is this really more important? I mean, c’mon...” his eyes softened, “It’s almost Christmas break.”

And it was violent. You jumped watching her turn and announce cold cuttingly, “As a matter of fact, this is. I don’t have time to waste on dumb doornail guys when I need to succeed. I guess I can’t expect a hopeless hockey player to understand. Go skate on some ice and hit a put, it’s not like you’ll be able to feed your future family.”

His eyes widened.

Your eyes widened.

Her eyes darkened with scornful hate.

He kissed her head and shook his head, he whispered, “Merry Christmas Y/N. I wish you nothing but the world in your palm, I just won’t be in it.” He stood away shakily. Tears were pearled in his eyes as he walked away leaving her to her own devices. She grunted and went back to her studies... The next morning you had earned the top score of the class.

You knew the break up was quick, you didn’t remember saying such a mean thing to the guy you had fallen mad head over hill in love with.

You couldn’t believe you had been so cruel.

But you had. And there was nothing you could do to take it back. It happened. It was done. Finished.

And Anthony did nothing wrong except invite you to a party, a party you never went to, a party where he met his future wife.

“Spirit remove me from this place,” you choked as your chest began trembling.

Chris hushed you and kissed the side of your head, “It’s alright, I told you before, these are merely shadows of the past, things that have been.”

He wiped the unwilling tears coursing down your cheek.

You shook your head and wailed, “I don’t fucking care! Remove me! Take me somewhere else!”

A vile sobbing wail screamed from your lips. You didn’t know where it had come from. Your knees gave way and you fell, Chris’ arm caught your waist in time and laid you down across the carpet.

The vision of time phased away to the darkness. You felt your heart get louder, fearing the unknown pitch black. His hot hand cupped your cheek and you found yourself cowering into his chest.

1:40am 25th December, 2023, New York City.

There was a faint light in the area around you. Dim and blue. Your eyes struggled to open...you lifted your head from what you originally believed was Chris’ chest. Yet it revealed to you quickly that the warmth was only your soft pillows. You were back in your own bedroom again. The sheets has been wrapped around your waist and legs.

You didn’t know how to feel. You just cried. You buried your head and sobbed. You missed your mother and the father you once had. You missed Anthony and regretted how much you might’ve hurt him. And you missed being touched...you missed Chris’ warm hands holding you and the foolish grin he wore. You barely knew up but you mourned his existence that might’ve not been real at all.

Sitting up sniffling and sighing hard, you got out of your bed and walked to your kitchen. You reached for your coffee machine and paused. No, you need something stronger. You went to the fridge and grabbed the bottle of wine from earlier. You intended to finish the damn thing and forget everything for a while.

Turn back around you returned to your room to lay back in your three thousand dollars bedsheets...

Except you didn’t recall buying him too.

Chris, still here. Now laying across your very luxuriously soft duvet. He made it dramatically obvious, running his cheek into your pillow smelling the essence of your tears.

Your spine shot up and down hot. You tried not to smile. You were pleased he was here. You didn’t know where he came from or where he was hiding before but seeing him again welcomed something into your cold heart.

His eyebrows wiggled, “Oh, Merlot? For me? You shouldn’t have.”

You hummed feigning your displeasure, “Its Pinot Noir... I didn’t think you’d be so uncultured.”

He chuckled, looking down at the soft fabrics he was pinching, “Yea, well I’m probably more knowledgeable on hot chocolate and eggnog more than anything.”

He pat the spot beside him, inviting you to sit on your own bed. You felt it was ironic and ludicrous.

“Maybe...anyway...don’t you have somewhere else to be? Someone else to bother?” You snipped and cocked your hip.

“As a matter of fact...” he rolled onto his back and placed his hands behind his head, “I don’t, so be a good snowflake and join me, the covers are incredible!”

You snorted softly rolling your eyes, “I know,” you sat on the bed and unscrewed the bottle, you took a deep sip and cringed a croak, “I bought them.”

He took the bottle from his hands, not asking if he could. But really what was the point in fighting him. He stole your wine and took his own sip. You couldn’t help stare at his bobbing Adams apple.

He passed the bottle back. You were going to take another drink before Chris said, “It all makes sense now.”

You eyes him putting the bottle down....he was daring you to ask it, you knew it...and you complied.

“What?”

You crawled onto your knees on the mattress and waited with your curious eyes. The wine warmed your belly. You tossed your head to one side, staring up and down the Spirit. He had such an appealing form for something so inhuman and supposedly holy.

He smiled.

“What!?” you repeated needfully.

He sighed, “This,” he waved his hand towards you.

“You just gestured to all of me.”

“Exactly.”

Your eyes narrowed and a bold bolt drove through you, the twinge of annoyance mixed with frustrated anger, “If you’re going to talk in riddles, you can get the fuck off my bed and get the fuck out of my apartment. Merry fucking Christmas.”

His smile remained but his eyes sparkled with mischief. He lifted his chin.

“How you became a holiday hating, grievously malicious, uptight little cunt.”

Your eyes could have popped out from your head, “Excuse me?!” You gagged on nothingness. Your fists curled...‘What happens to people who punched Spirits in the nose?’

He shrugged and sighed, “You wanted to know. Don’t blame me for telling you the truth. I don’t do white lies, that’s not in my books.”

You grabbed the wine again and took a mean big gulp, glaring at him from the corner of your eye, “If that was the case,” your voice said with barbs, “Children wouldn’t believe in Santa and the north pole and his company of elves.”

He pursed his lips and nodded before he snatched the bottle from your hand and vanished it from existence.

“Hey!” you snapped, “I wasn’t finished with that! It cost me-”

“Nothing,” he interrupted and tapped his fingers on his chest, “It didn’t cost you a penny because you got a refund when you lied to the winery that it’s wax seal was broken upon delivery when it very well wasn’t...but upon tasting it you felt it wasn’t worth the price you paid therefore it shouldn’t cost you a dime...it didn’t cost you a damn thing.”

You sat back and gulped, ‘How the fuck-‘

“Christmas past remember? I see all...so don’t bother trying to convince me that you needed to finish that meaningless sip,” he curtly said, “You need to focus on bettering your mindset and yourself. It’s important.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and pouted down at the floor. You wanted to cry and scream with embarrassment, you wanted to kick or break something.

He smirked and picked up your chin with a long finger. You sniffled and jerked your head away. You crawled down to the very end of your bed. You pulled the covers back and kicked the sheets before sliding your feet under them and pulling them up to your chin.

You huffed softly, feeling the prickling heat of tears behind your eyes, why did he have to shame you so easily, “Or what, you gonna chain me up like Marlene? Go on then, call me a cunt again. Put me on your big ol’ scary naughty list.”

You shook your head and rolled your entire body away from him. A tear rolled from your eye and soaked down into your pillow, meeting the rest of its previous brethren tears.

Chris gazed down at you with sad hope. He really did want you to pass the test. He knew you had the potential, but did you have the drive? Maybe you just needed the push...

You were lonely in life more than ever before. You were miserable despite convincing yourself you were incredibly successful in all parts of life.

His arm circled forward and bodly rubbed down your middle and curled around your waist. You sniffled again, ignoring his touch all together.

He laid his cheek ontop of yours and whispered, “Do you want to know what happens to naughty girls like you? You want to really know what they get?”

You shut your eyes, you didn’t want to look at him. You were upset and too ashamed. You didn’t want to be teased again.

You mumbled grumpily, “Coal up their ass?”

“Oh it’s not coal that goes up there,” he hummed deeply

Your eyes fluttered awake.

His hand reached under the duvet and touched your bare thigh...his finger tips wriggled in between your thighs and attacked your clit...your breath hitched.

“I gather you need motivation if you are to improve your outlook on life,” he breathed huskily into your ear.

Your lips parted, your eyes squeezed tight. A gurgling moan crawled from your throat. You rocked your hips into his hand and savoured his controlling hand.

Tiny pants left your lips as he pushed two fingers inside of your salivating pussy. He twitched them back and forth at an average steady pace.

His hot wet tongue licked from your shoulder up to your ear. His loud sucking on your skin cause a small keen shudder to glide down your spine. He kissed your neck and sighed into your skin.

His knee curled up and pressed between your thighs, he fully intended to keep your entire pussy open and available to his instrumental fingers.

“Look at you,” he muttered, “So compliant when I have my fingers up this stubborn cunt. Are you going to promise you’ll behave and obey me from now on? Cease you insistent fight?”

“Pl-please Chris,” you gasped,

He smirked against you skin, “Please what?” he purred

“F-fuck!” you whined and pressed your ass back against him, trying to rub against his hidden cock.

He slapped your backside once making you jump. He chuckled wickedly, “I will if you promise to obey and listen.”

You panted and groaned, “Make- make me!” you wouldn’t submit so easily....not even for unworldly dick.

His noise was feral, rising from the back of his throat like a growl. He pressed his mouth to yours. You whined, his tongue choked you and pressed your tongue down, dominating you even in kiss.

He gasped pulling back, “Very well you stubborn slut.”

He snapped his fingers and poof- the blankets, your night gown and surprisingly all his clothing vanished from the bed all together.

You gasped at the feeling of his hot skin pressing up your back. Your hands clawed the pillows as he thrust his fingers fast and hard. Your eyes started to roll until the sensation was totally lost. He selfishly took his hand back, moments before you hit the high. You whimpered and trembled. You couldn’t breathed you were a mixture of frustration, anger and needy obsession. You would have done anything for him to finish.

He sat up and rolled you until your belly was laid over his legs. His cock you could not see but feel touching you made you excited and eager to know how it would feel to fuck you. His hands roughly kneaded your thighs and bottom.

‘No...he wouldn’t...’

His hand came flying down cracking across the skin of your ass. You squealed and felt your hips launch up in the air. The sting was like a cutting burn that lasted for around thirty seconds. He did it again and again. His flat palm struck you and would the pain absorb before rubbing the flesh. You didn’t fight him and that did not surprise him.

Your hips wriggled and twisted. His hand was harsh and fiery. You groaned and savoured it. And when it felt almost too much and you tried to wiggle free. He pinned you down hard by your neck and shoulders.

You bit your lips and cried, really cried. You grit your teeth and sobbed through each striking spank on your naked ass. Your hands clawed the bed and the skin of his thighs. He hailed into you harder. You screamed and choked on your sobs. It wasn’t fun anymore. It hurt and he wasn’t stopping even when you began squealing and kicking your legs on the bed trying to twist your hips away.

“Stop! Stop please! Please! It hurts! No more, no more.”

“If you didn’t want this, you’d behave.”

You swore he had to have been flaying your skin by his hand until you reached back and cupped or own hot cheeks, protecting yourself from his whiping palm.

You sobbed and trembled. You flinched and whimpered with shining tears when a surprisingly soft knuckle brushed your cheek and his husky voice hushed you softly.

He slowly turned you over off his lap and dragged you close to his chest.

He shoved his thumb into your mouth. You didn’t fight or pull back. You sucked on this digit, wrapping your lips around it. You felt his arm wrap around you and pull you closer. Your breasts pressed to his chest, he was warm

And his thumb gave you something to focus on instead of your burn sore bottom. You whined and laid your head back on the pillows. You rubbed to cheek on the warm skin of his shoulder while he soothed you from your tears using his soft cooing and thumb you greedily kept in your mouth. You moaned and mewled over it, licking the pad and scratching your tongue along his nail.

His fingers ran up and down your back. He pulled his thumb from your mouth with a gentle pop.

“Look at you,” he whispered, “Greedy, spoilt, but once you’re faced with real consequences you come to heel...”

You tried shaking your head, denying it. No. You were an independent woman with control.

A false mocking awe came from him as he said, “Oh yes, yes that’s exactly what you are. But you’re going to promise to be a good girl from now on or else you’ll never cum again.”

You were speechless...you wanted to be fresh with him and state that you still owned a vibrator...but what if he took it away like your wine.

He spread your thighs, he tugged your knees over his hip and rubbed your clit with his fingers until you were wet enough to his liking. He kissed you again, laughing as you pressed yourself up into him, stealing any physical touch you could possibly gain. He ran a soft hand across your cheek, tender and loving. His lips suckled their way down to your chest. Those red cherry lips plucked at your nipples and soft breasts.

Finally the tip of his pink cock touched your pussy. It was firm and from what you could see in the faint dark, it was lengthy. Your arms reached up and held onto his shoulders, you dug your nails sharply into his shoulders as he entered.

He grunted and sighed, struggling to stuff himself in and would pause when your noises were whines of pain. He made sure to avoid any tearing.

And when he managed to press himself taut into you, his balls touching your ass and thigh, you felt like you had been through a workout.

The walls of your cunt were filled to every crevice of his fat cock. You moaned when he moved tiny thrusts into you instead of brutally slamming.

You pressed your mouth to him again, his eyes looking back at you with adoration. He jerked his hips back a little meaner watching you gasp. He mocked your gasp before kissing your nose and then your mouth. He did it again to taste and feel your gasp.

He moved you back, dislodging quickly so that he could climb over you and enter swiftly inside. He picked your legs up with the backs of your knees and anchored himself down, harder and faster picking up the speed.

“You hear that?” he asked and moved himself in smaller jerks, “Dirty little slut, you’re drooling syrup all over my pole.”

And if you weren’t so close to cumming you would’ve laughed. His hand pressed down on your throat. He barrelled into you and slapped a breast.

The sensations of being prevented to breathe as straight and the slap intensifies all your senses. You groaned and choked.

He hissed, bending down to press his nose into yours.

Your legs wrapped tight around his waist trying to lift your hips up to meet him.

“You want to cum?” he snarled? You nodded trying to not cry again. God you needed it.

“Pl-pl-please,” you gasped through the violent thrusts.

He licked your cheek and growled, “You promise to be on your best behaviour from now on?”

You whimpered and nodded.

His thumb attacked your clit as he fucked you.

“Cum,” he whispered, “Cum for me on my cock little slut.”

Your body contorted, muscles strained as you released a soundless scream. You threw your head back let you body be consumed by the orgasm you let tear through your entire body. Your bones and chest rattled. When air finally came to your lungs you let out a powerful sob. But Chris gazing down at you bore joyful vision at your smile as you cried.

You felt incredible, hit by a bus made of all things delightful.

His cock was still inside you. You didn’t take a moment to think about him or whether he cummed. You selfishly enjoyed the gift he gave you and forgot about the promise you had vowed.

He pulled away slowly. You hissed at the departure. So sensitive.

You curled lazily up into a ball and fluttered your eyes shut.

You only recalled feeling his hot lips against your ear, “I will return to you when the bell chimes once more...” his pecked your cheek and left you to lay in your mess, exhausted and falling into your own sleep again.

[lovejosephquinn]

Authors Note: I am so excited about this. I've been brainstorming all last night and today and I think it's going to go well, I think it'll either be a 4 or 5 part series atm, we'll see how it works out. Thanks for reading, please reblog if you enjoy it or leave a comment if you wish to kept up to date with future parts! 🥰

Summary: You’d set your sights on him and he on you. It all started with a visit to a newly talked about bar which kept you coming more regularly, in the end not just for a drink but yet the inevitability of a creeping flame set alight by a stare which kept dragging you back. After all, lust shouts and love whispers and in the end, only the heart knows the difference.

Under 18's DNI. Warnings: Slow burn, intimidating meets intrigue, a little bit of sexual intension if you look close enough Word Count: 2.6k

Taglist: @eddiemunson-mylove @joeschains @daleyeahson @itsfreakingbats @etherealglimmer @kayleeelena97 @xlilithb @live-love-be-unique @lma1986 @shawnamae87 @fluffysmutmnstr @ches-86 @aysheashea @definitionwanderlust @palomahasenteredthechat @figmentofquinn @harringtonfan4 @chrissy-mj-stan

Part 1 ✨ Part 2 ✨ Part 3 ✨ Part 4

To you it was a regular Friday night, you'd just finished work and you were heading through the hustle and bustling streets of London with your colleague. Pub Friday was a heavy reoccurrence, much needed after a long week of 9 to 5, it was the only excuse you had to let your hair down and tonight you'd planned to head over to a newish bar that had opened just shy of a few weeks ago, a huge recommendation by one of your other work friends saying that they'd been and it was a pretty decent place to go to.

Truth be told it was tiresome going to the same place every time, seeing the same faces drowning their sorrows in their drinks, the same couples having the same boring arguments and the same old men staring at you from their non owned and practically unreserved tables in the corner of the room.

You move through the double doors which lead into the unfamiliar space, quieter than what you're used to to say the least. You're faced with the beautiful scenery of a long bar, shelved behind it are at least 100 different bottles of spirits. Tables sprouted around the large room with borderline fancy décor set around the walls to compliment them, it was a vision to behold, a pretty penny had clearly gone into this business and it showed, you were truly mesmerised by the care that was given from a clear renovation, that was until he caught your eye.

Originally he'd had his back turned to you and was nothing but a shadow in your field of vision but the moment you caught a glimpse of his side profile, you almost felt a sudden state of nausea, a strange attraction to someone you'd only spent checking out for practically a millisecond. Then he looked over, it all happened in slow motion. You and your colleague still stood in the doorway like a couple of idiots. The bartender smirked a grin your way, welcoming but intimidating all the same.

"Welcome ladies." The most beautiful sound you'd ever heard came out of him, it was simple yet effective enough to have you swooning, your friend had elbowed you back into reality by the time she'd caught your jaw falling to the floor.

Your friend dragged you over to the bar, the mysterious man was drying down a couple of glasses previously owned by customers which had been handed in once they were leaving.

"How do you like my place?" his eyes remained on you, it was like your soul was being ripped apart by his retinas and he'd stolen all ability for you to even respond.

"It's nice here yeah." Your friend spoke for you, removing his eye contact you for the first time since he'd spotted the two of you at the front of he bar.

"This is your bar?" You said it in a way so sarcastic that you made him scoff. Nice one. His eyes rolled back to find your features reflecting through the beautiful brown colours that sparkled in his iris, a slight darkness added to them through the dimmed lighting, was that intentional or not because it only seemed to be clear enough to see when he was looking right at you.

"It's my bar indeed darling, what or who were you expecting?" The skilful chat this man had in giving you back the response you had quickly spirted out and alighted what looked like an irritation in him. Your thumbs twiddled together as you perched yourself onto the stool next to you, unnerved and excited.

"Never mind." He shook his head. "The name's Joe. What can I get you?"

You both ordered yourselves a large glass of white wine, offering the money over to Joe before he smacked your hand away.

"This ones on me." You tried to offer it again, an almost silent refusal that you would be paying for the drinks you'd been given. Joe took the £10 note out of your hand and put his hands under the bar, acting as though he was fumbling around under there, making himself look busy, slight confusion hit you when his hands eventually came back to eye view he was cupping a pint glass which had the note he'd just taken from you firmly rolled inside of it.

"I said this one's on me." You bit back on your laughter, taking out the money from the glass and slipping it back into your bag, accepting defeat, sipping on your wine you offer him a warm smile, his lips were firmly pressed into a line, you couldn't exactly read him very well, he played a poker face that you couldn't quite shake. You were subdued and it had only been 10 minutes in his company.

Your friend made it feel the most awkward of moments when she announced she was going to the toilet and left you alone with him, luckily he got to serving someone else so by the time he was done, she'd probably be back, but obviously to your bitter disappointment that wasn't the case and Joe was straight back over to you, arms leaning against the bar as he bent down to meet you at your level, the towel he was once cleaning the glasses with now lazily laid over his shoulder like an accessory. There was something so soft about his features, something so brutally innocent which lead you to believe that it was all a façade with the tone in his voice when speaking to you, a completely dissociated difference.

"So you never told me your name?" Why in this stupid time and place did you forget your own name, did you mean to stutter through the saliva that was circulating quickly, stumbling over your own tongue.

"It's uh- it's Y/N."

"Pretty name for a pretty lady." That made you bite your lip and he for sure noticed, his eyes made their own way to watch you do it, his own world now moving in slow motion from the deep breath he partook in once you'd shot the flirtatious body language back at him.

"Did you mean to do that?" Your cheeks released a flush of deep red, realising that you'd actually just done that to a complete stranger, a stranger you were obviously completely hot for.

"I bet you say that to all the girls." You felt like you'd knocked him for six with your response, you were in sudden guard of attempting to faulter his clear confidence in talking to women. It didn't work.

"Only when I mean it." Your friend saved the day when you felt her presence right back at your side again, he shot a wink at you and walked away to serve someone who'd just come through the door.

You completely drowned out the conversation you were clearly not involved in with your friend, watching everything that Joe was doing so intricately, he looked so beautiful doing the simplest of things and that was so threatening to you, your heart and head were speaking completely different languages at this point. Even if this was the first time you'd met him, you were to make sure it wouldn't be the last because there was something about him and you knew yourself, once you were intrigued by something or someone; you were determined to find out.

With the bar getting slightly busier through the evening, he was pre occupied elsewhere, the glances were often yet short, shotting the last one of your wine you left without saying goodbye, imagining his disappointment and creating a fantasy for yourself of him feeling cast down that you'd left so quickly without getting to know him. Why were you kidding yourself? He probably wouldn't of remembered you the next time you went in anyway, but your imagination was throwing that version of future events to the side because it wasn't just a normal look you'd been given, that wasn't how normal hello's were exchanged. You were probably overthinking the whole ordeal, but you had to go back and see. If he remembered, then your heart was right, if he didn't your head was just playing tricks on you, the first option sounded better but the second was probably more feasible.

You prepared yourself for the boring Saturday evening up and coming close, no plans made you took the spontaneity that was lingering in your every being to get ready and go to the bar, after all the mystery man named Joe was all you could muster to think about.

You dressed up to the nines for someone that probably wouldn't shoot their eyes your way again. Not something you'd usually do since your anxiety ridden body wouldn't normally let you, but there was a form of excitement in you so powerful that kept you going for tonight, it would probably be deflated as soon as you found out you were wrong and foolish for going back for the reasons you were and for all intense and purposes you made sure you were to stand out from the crowd.

Entering the bar, it was slightly busier than the previous day, the weekend truly in force and the people of London ready to party until the early hours of the morning. You suddenly felt out of place, all alone in the middle of a bar attempting to see the man who only flirted with you for all of half an hour yesterday, there were more staff located behind the bar, you wandered over, eyes prying all over the place just to even witness a peak of him.

Both a hot and cold sweat came over you when you couldn't see him, all but a crowd of bodies scattered around the room, you felt slightly dizzy in your wake and moved over to step to the front door, quickly deciding it was probably better to give this a miss and accepting you were probably wrong in what you'd been thinking for the last 24 hours. Before you even put your hand on the door, you felt a hand grip to your arm, pulling you towards them with brute force, swerving yourself around to take a look, a slightly older man stood before you, immediately looking you up and down, making your whole body shudder and not the good kind. He leaned down into your ear.

"Lost?"

"No I was just leaving, was trying to find my friend."

"I'll be your friend, come have a drink with me."

"I'm good thanks."

His grip had remained on your arm, you'd attempted to step back but the wall had gotten in the way and you suddenly felt trapped.

"Come on. I won't take no for an answer, one drink."

"I said no, thank you." You tried to be as polite as you could before you were on your way to losing your tether, moving your hand over his you attempted to get him off you, but he squeezed tighter. What kind of creep does this in this day and age, the obvious answer was the entitled pricks that thought they were gods gift to women and didn't like nor understand the word no.

His other hand brushed your hair off of your shoulder, making you squirm disgustingly from his calloused fingers.

"Please let me go."

"When you have a drink with me."

You began to panic when all at once, time and space moved in the blink of an eye and the man was pulled backwards by your now knight in shining armour. You looked up to see Joe, clinging to his shoulders, ragging him towards him, instantly releasing you, you gazed down at the red marks from the way his hand had held you so tightly.

"She said no, mate. Think it's time you were leaving, think you've had enough." The man stormed out in a huff after looking at the seriousness of the pupils that were dilating Joe's eyes from the spout of anger of seeing someone handle a woman in that way; the wrong way.

"Thank you." You felt Joe's hand move over to inspect what could of only been described as a minor injury to your skin, his thumb soothed over making goose bumps reappear over his strokes.

"You're welcome pretty girl. What brings you back here?"

"Just for a drink."

"Alone?" Joe raised an eyebrow, that same shit smirk hitting his lips which made you feel pure infuriation yet made you want to jump him.

"Alone."

"To see me more like." You gulped your saliva back, a heavy breath inhaled when you felt him move closer to you.

"In your dreams." You rolled your eyes.

"No darling, in yours." Joe glared at your movement, taking your hand and bringing you over to the bar.

"So what will it be? Wine?"

"A shot of tequila bar boy."

Joe barked laughter at you, taking out two shot glasses and pouring the lethal spirit into them.

"Two?"

"Cheers Y/N." You picked up your glass, clinking them together you took the shot in unison. The burn felt good at this point but all your brain could muster was that he remembered you. Your heart was pounding and you couldn't even decipher word in the English language to describe how you were feeling right now.

"Before you go and try handing me the cash again, I've got a better idea." You were so predictable to him by this point, you felt instant defeat because your next move would of been to find the money to pay him for the shot. Intrigued by his words, you took a deep breath again, completely wrapped around his little finger to find out what he meant by that.

"Okay?"

"Just to put it out there, you're really fucking attractive darling." He leaned further, your faces inches away from each other. "I know you came here to see me again. I know the feelings mutual. You give me your number and once I get off work tomorrow, you come here and I'll show you what you came for tonight." He moved back, tapping his fingers against the bar. An offer, is that what it was?

Pulling out his phone, he offered it to you to tap your phone into the keypad. You were too flustered and shaky to even respond by this point, but you did it any way. This guy could of been anyone, but you really needed to explore his proposal, after all it's not everyday you feel this down for someone so quickly, you're not losing out either way.

"Good girl." Joe saved your number into his phone. His way with words had you tingling in every crevice of your body, you weren't sure if it was the tequila making you feel this way or whether it was the way he clouded your thoughts with his fiery look.

"Do I get to find out what's happening tomorrow?"

"All in good time."

The bar had gotten even busier by the time you'd managed to look away from him since you'd got to the bar with Joe. He was pulled to the side by one of his employees and when he came back he had a look of annoyance in his face, made softer once again when he saw you sat minding your own business.

"You going to be okay getting home?"

"Yeah, fine. I'm a big girl, I can handle myself." You rolled your eyes again.

"We'll see about that."

"Is that a threat or a promise?" You bit your lip.

You felt his throat strain, a low grunt emerging.

"We'll see." His game was being played twice as hard as yours, you could of cut the tension with a knife.

Joe's hand came up to tuck your hair behind your ear, leaning down he placed a brief kiss on your cheek, the sensation travelled to your core and you were suddenly hooked.

Fuck.

"Until tomorrow." Joe moved away slowly, the now familiar smirk crossing your line of vision once more.

Double fuck.

[86-babyy]

Trepidation.

I got the idea from this amazing post. Tweaked a little but ran with the theme. 🙃 Eddie!Fem Reader

Warnings— physical abuse, marks/bruises, mutual pining through hate, unprotected sex, possessive Eddie, angst with fluff ending. If I missed anything, let me know.

Tension strung out across the room like perfectly hung Christmas lights, each person twisting and checking individual bulbs of bright green and red, the corded wire connecting each one to make sure the line wouldn’t snap. That’s what it felt like. Every person so high on alert that neither wanted to cause the pending fall— to watch the bursts of colour shatter as it all came crashing down.

But it was too late for that.

“The fuck you say?” Like poison, it was spat with every intention to harm. The venom pooling from every syllable like a dripping tap he couldn’t turn off. 

“Did I stutter, Munson.” You hoped that he understood that it was more of a rhetorical question than the latter, surely he wasn’t that ignorant, but then again..

You could see the fury wash over his vision— pupils dilated to the maximum, the way the skin creases at the corners of his eyes in a exasperated glare, it was clear as day, the anger that he hid well behind his deadpan expression— But not if you knew what you were looking for. 

“You got a nerve, parading around like you’re something special.”

“Special? Not exactly. But labels really aren’t my thing..”

Snap. Just like that the corded wire broke. Split right down the middle, leaking the tension from heavy to flat out strain spilling around their feet. 

You knew you had struck a point, somewhere deep behind the guarded wall he stood behind— If not for the bleeding white of his knuckles, strained to hard into fists that the circulation gave way, that gave it away, it was the drop of expression— If only for a half a second, it was there. 

“Alright! It’s enough, Jesus, you guys seriously need to get your shit together.”

Steve. Poor, Steve. Always the middle man. Quick to rescue any situation and honestly, you couldn’t help but feel a prick of regret for causing such a scene when all he tried to do was bring everyone together for a movie night.

A movie. It was that simple. That’s all it was supposed to be. Drinks, laughs, shitty B grade horror movies and too much junk food but somewhere along the line it had turned into a all out brawl between you and Eddie Munson. 

You pulled yourself from your position on the couch, knees aching as you stretched out your frame, hoping that a break from scenery would settle things a little— It was the least you could do, for Steve if no one else. 

It was a bitter feud that ran between you and Eddie, stemming from as far back as you could remember— So much so you couldn’t even explain how it all started but it came to a head through high school and it gradually got worse and worse. The torment was relentless, constant snide remarks followed by the accidental shoves and bumps in the hallway. The confrontation got deplorable, more personal.

You had reached your destination, the stark porcelain cold beneath your palms, wincing at your reflection. It felt you had been in this situation one to many times— Stood in front of the mirror to repulsed to even look at yourself, it was self sabotage at its finest and yet the ache brought a twisted relief from reality. 

Self pitty is a hell of a thing. 

“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is but keep it going, sweetheart.”

In the doorway— He stood a distance away, a considerable space between you both but the heat radiated like crashing ocean waves, descending in height until it breaks into foamy white on impact. You had thought about walking away, ignoring the complete shit show all together but you knew that wasn’t how it was going to pan out— You wouldn’t let it. 

“And what is it exactly that you plan to do? You wouldn’t— No, couldn’t, right.”

It was a down right threat, one that caused his frame to go rigid, you noticed the subtle changes whenever he was in your presence— The twist of knuckles, the heavy fall of his chest with every exasperated breath, it was like clock work— Predictable.

“You want to go that far?”

His tone switched, automatically. Something candid about the way he drew his words, spread them out far more than necessary. 

“Fuck off, Munson.” 

Before thought became reason you had two solid palms splayed against his chest, the weight of what your body could manage heaving his stature backwards with surprising force— Enough to make him stumble on his heel.

“I told you..”

A death like grip made its way around your wrist, bound by Eddie’s fingers mercilessly pressing into the soft of skin, crescent like marks sure to be left behind from his nails. 

Boring eyes burnt a trail straight through your own, melted past the exterior and seeped into the pit of your core, the bitter taste hung heavy on your expression— No doubting the churn of unease that peaked like a crisp breeze through winter across your skin, prickling the nerves into tiny bumps. 

The weight of his body came hard and fast as the throb of pain was evidence of the strength— pristine tiles moulded to your back in resistance as he came chest to chest.

“Keep fucking going.”

“You have some audacity.. You fucking followed me.”

Your latter hand came down, imprints of raised red flesh painted his cheek in a matter of minutes— Momentarily you wince at your actions, it wasn’t meant to go down like this.

But he doesn’t respond, doesn’t react and that scares you more than the latter.

                                     *

“You should really watch your step.”

You grimaced at the ringing sound of his voice broken through the crowd of students, the dull throb of the blades of your shoulder transfer pain from one spot to another as the hand tightens around your forearm.

“I think I can manage..”

Straining against the hold on your arm, the motion only sending more pain to radiate through— The grasp much to stable to pull from.

“I beg to differ. Nearly fell on your ass, sweetheart.”

It’s dripping in confidence, the smug form of words matching the growing smirk curling the corners of his mouth. 

“You pushed me, idiot. The fuck..”

This time you managed to release from his grip, the burn lingering from the imprints of fingers around your forearm— Shoving past in the process, making sure that the ball of your shoulder didn’t miss the sharp contact to his chest.

                                   *

It wasn’t the first time, both of you had left some form of mark or bruise before. Your skin littered in hand prints where he had grabbed your arm too tightly or when he had shoved you into the locker, the metal bruising in its wake and you would be just as aggressive— Knocking into him full force and continually throwing objects in his general direction. It was a cruel form of tit for tat that had spiralled way out of control. 

You watch your arm come down in a forceful swing from the release of his grip, the joint of your shoulder peaks in pain from the pull but it didn’t come undeserved.

A wash of cold incases around your throat, metal stings the flush of skin and rubs against the friction forced by the air that seemed to be sucker punched out of you. Except there was no impact. Just Eddie, leaning dangerously close to the shell of your ear— You can trace his breath dancing over the side of your cheek.

“You’re going to regret that..”

                                     *

It had been a whirl wind of a week, school had meshed into one big blur and it had been hard to concentrate on any singular task. The words of your notes scribbled out like nonsense against the pages— even you couldn’t recite what you had written. The hum of the teacher buzzes in the distance until a solid thump against the back of your head drags you from your subconscious.

The crumpled paper lays beside your foot, hesitantly, you reach for it— You knew exactly who had thrown it.

Bit out of it today, better keep focus..

You could read the ill intent between the words, the hint of sarcasm written in inky blue but it lacked the harshness behind it. The pointed jab, the direct response of intent to be cruel. 

It was different.

And when the bell rung heavy through the school, like a world wide alarm that sent adolescent kids into a complete frenzy, you were thankful for the days end.

“Come past, trust me, it’ll be good.” Robin had coxed you against your locker, hovering the idea of a barbecue at Steve’s house this weekend— Throwing in that she would bring her potato salad which was exactly her motive when you had reluctantly sighed, you couldn’t turn down a plate of the delicious stuff— It was addictive. 

It was subtle but with enough force to pull your attention when the nudge to your arm had you tracking the source— You could feel him before you saw him and that alone had you gagging for the nearest toilet.

“Can I help you?”

Not bothering to even acknowledge his presence but you waited. Aimlessly shoving the lasts of your books into what little space was left inside your locker— Nothing. 

You glance over your shoulder, catch the gaze that silently studied you before he shrugs. Shrugs. Like he didn’t have a damn care in the world— No back fire. Smart ass remarks, not even a grimace in his expression. 

Even Robin gave a small cock of her head, the crease between her brows dimpling at Eddie’s lack of response, flickering her confusion between yourself and Eddie.

“You don’t have to look at me like I have two heads, Buckley.”

He follows it with a disconcerting laugh but Robin only narrows her lids further, as if the notion will bare through and what she’s looking for will come baring through.

“Hm. Yeah— Okay.”

She gives Eddie a once over before turning back to yourself.

“What do you think?”

“You don’t play fair..”

She perked in response, eyes beaming in animation as she helplessly shifted from one foot to another in the only way Robin would when she tried to dim her excitement. 

“Love, my dear, it’s all out of love.”

Bouncing away wilfully you couldn’t help the spread of the stupid smile that forced its way onto your face, she was a beacon of light, that girl— A clumsy, over the top, muddled mess but none the less truly admirable. 

“She’s.. Something.”

It’s coated in fondness, soft even, as he copy’s your gaze watching Robin fade between the swarms of bodies.

“Yeah, definitely is.”

It takes you a moment, one that seems to stretch a mile long before you draw your attention to the man still stood beside you. He doesn’t follow, keeps his vision straight ahead like he had a target mixed in the crowd.

“See you on the weekend.”

It’s the briefest of smiles, barely upturns his lips but it was evidently there.

                                     *

The remaining week came and went and soon enough you were stood on the doorstep of Steve Harrington’s house, equipped with a garden salad— Just for good measure.

It seems like the most impossible task to reach across and knock, suddenly the varnished wood becoming more intimidating the more you wait— It was completely ridiculous. You had been here a million times, knowing the layout inside and out with both eyes closed, every hall, every door, it was like a second home. It was everyone’s second home. 

“You made it..”

Steve’s figure came into light, silently thankful that the simple task you hadn’t managed to do, like knock, had been swept away as he held the door open instead.

“You okay? You look out of sorts.”

You watch yourself nod, splay a smile and follow him inside as he takes the salad from your grasp like you’re on autopilot, you wish you had an answer, you wish you had said something like yeah, I’m good, hope Robin brought the potato salad, you would both laugh knowing full well Robin wouldn’t miss the opportunity to show off her love of cooking— But you couldn’t and instead traced his footsteps until you had gathered out back with the rest of the group.

Robin was aimlessly fumbling with the plastic chairs with Nancy, setting up an array of seating around an equally worn out table, you couldn’t help but laugh as the table cloth she was spreading kept flying up at the corners— racing her way to the opposite end to catch failing cotton. 

“As I said.. She’s something.”

You didn’t bother to look, you knew, but opted to simply nod instead.

“It’s a little warm for that..”

“Hm?”

“Long sleeves..” He gestures towards the open sky, the sun baring down in a stark heat you hadn’t seem to notice before.

“Yeah, uh, sort of cold.”

It was soft, passable as a whimper, tugging the round of your sleeve further down you arm. You didn’t have it in you to fight, not today. 

It was cruel the way he gripped your forearm, wincing behind the bounce of curls as Eddie pulled you inside, ever more up the stairs, ignoring your protests as he shoved you into the sparse of the bathroom.

“Eddie! Jesus, what is your problem—“

“Show me.”

“What?”

Eddie reaches for your arm again, slightly grazing the soft of your wrist before you managed to escape his attempt.

“Fuck off!”

He winces at the sound, it’s small— The way his expression drops, the subtle flinch of his eyes but noticeable, quick as it came he suited up— brows twisted in complex. It wasn’t anger, you knew the signs well, he was predictable— This was different.

Salt water burns the corners of your eyes, the undoubtable destruction threatening to escape— Bleed and make a mess in front of the one person you didn’t really want to do this with.

                                    *

It was quiet. To quiet. And it was the first thing you picked up on the moment you walked through the door, the gentle hum of static from the abandoned television strung thick in the air around you. You knew what was waiting— Dreading every step, every inch you placed your feet, one in front of the other. 

Wishing so desperately you could run, just this once. Leave every useless material thing behind, nothing really held much sentiment anyway, it was all broken memories and evidence of what was no longer— It was haunting.

It didn’t take long, in the split second he had seen your shadow coming into frame, it was all over.

Your body contorting as it was flung across the sparse of your bedroom, heavy hands wasting no time in staining your skin, bone’s bending at the pressure— Your dignity ripped to shreds. It was absolutely filthy, the hatred that spilled from words physically spat in your direction— Untrue lies of adultery and how you wore her face. How it reminded him of everything your mother had apparently strung him along with, ruined his career, destroyed his life— That is what he said.

Once upon a time you may have reasoned with his theory’s if it hadn’t been for the fact that it was him that tore their marriage apart— Susie, two houses down. You remember clear as day. How your mother had perfected the mask she hid behind, ignoring the latter and covering her questions with make up. You clicked on quickly after that she never asked him again. 

But she wasn’t here, no. A drunk driver had made sure of that— And now you seemed to be the only remaining option.

                                      *

Your arm once more tore from the curl around your waist, hasty fingers tugging, pulling, slipping the material covering the expanding bruises that coloured your forearm.

“Eddie..”

Soft, quiet, like if you had whispered it maybe no one else would hear. 

He was shaking, his hand uncontrollably quivering as he gently lifted the hem of your shirt— Where your body had taken most of the heat.

“Who did this? Who fucking hurt you.”

You would have missed, the single tear that rolled down his cheek through your own blurred vision, eyes to swollen from salt water to focus, near on unbearable the way your whole frame shook under the pressure— Your entire facade shattered, just like that, and now he knew. He knew.

It was embarrassment beyond measure, the unmissable sin that painted your skin, it even had you feeling like reaching for the nearest toilet, gagging and spewing the disappointment and despair from your very core. 

He looked hurt, his eyes held such sorrow that it almost broke you all over again, his demeanour shifted completely, now almost crouched over, shoulders hung so heavy with invisible weight dragging his whole frame forward. 

“Who?”

“I— It doesn’t matter. It’s okay..”

He looks at you, really looks, but his gaze is soft— Screaming, silently screaming what part of any of this is okay? Shakes his head, curls of chestnut follow his movement in a soft bounce and it’s oddly beautiful. He squints, expression unreadable but it lingers, you couldn’t ignore it, the quiet statement that whispers— Only me. It was supposed to be only me, who pushes, pulls, taunts you in a way that keeps that subtle smile on your lips for the rest of the day. Not like this— This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

“Eddie, please.”

It comes like a blanket, invading and full of comfort. The kind where you are wrapped up in one to many blankets on the coldest night of winter, bringing warmth and security along with it.

Except it wasn’t copious amounts of blankets, it was Eddie. 

Wrapped so intensely around you, arms that seemed to stretch and wrap around twice and you let it— Let your body give way to the feeling. Moulded and shrunk in the embrace of his arms, caring no longer for anything but the present.

It felt like hours, minutes, seconds, uncounted for before you slip from within his arms. Eyes follow you, somber in expression and you hated the feeling of pitty that settled in your stomach. Soft, warm hands caressed your face, fingers skimming the tracks of tears that stained your skin in response. Welcoming the comfort, for it was long over due.

“I’ve got you.”

Felt like a forever, a whole other lifetime since you heard such reassurance and though everything pointed towards the fact that you shouldn’t believe him, that the overwhelming feeling of solace was completely left turn to your usual bitter interactions, it came natural.

Just like the way you hinted your chin upwards, risking it all in the moment of silence, the undeniable pull that craved confirmation. Without hesitation the brush of air escaping past and drifting along your lips, the gentle pull of hands inching you closer, slowly, in silent question. It was soft, careful, tasting of desperation and summer fruit and everything right in the world. 

Chaste hands weaved into the mess of curls, each ringlet looping around your knuckles, encouraging the growing need— The tension to strung out, pulled and stretched to the max. It wasn’t harsh, forced, like the conversations before, every pent up emotion bleeding between the mess of lips and spit, tangled hands desperate to cover every surface— It was passion and play, intense and deprived. Hands gripped the underside of your thighs, your body heaved as you wrapped your legs around his waist and this time when your back collided with the pristine tiles it aches for completely different reasons. 

Eddie loops the elastic of your underwear around his fingers, expertly dipping beneath your skirt, your position resisted against the strain with no where to go, so he pulls— Fingers twisting the cotton until a steady yank sends the sides splitting in half, tearing away the tattered material behind him. 

You hear the clink, the clutter of metal from the distance, still to incased in leaving your presence along the sparse of his throat— Teeth and lips work in union to form Scarlett beneath them, patches of love and need bleed beneath his skin.

The air winded you, your lungs fighting with what oxygen remains when he bottomed out, thick and greedy as your pussy instinctively moulding around the intrusion— Welcoming with every thrust, pulsing and drawing your nerves along with it. 

“Promise, fuck, I’ll take care of you.”

Whimpering strings of acknowledgment intwine with rugged breaths, fingernails trails the spans of his shoulders. Your whole body ignited in exhilaration against every draw of his cock, expanding your walls and driving into the sweet, tender spot over and over.

“Jesus, Eddie.. I’ve wanted this for so long.”

Maybe it was endorphins that exploded like sparks inside each notion that made you admit, maybe it was the thrill after so long— But really, it was the raw truth. And the growl that Eddie groaned, seemingly from the depths of his chest when he brought his hand up to cradle your throat, the pinch of pressure as boring eyes held your vision— Intensely. 

“Never again. I’ve got you, sweetheart. You hear me?”

It was possessive and enduring, the lingering promise brought forth a urgency that had you reaching for more, a silent oath bonded by bitter rivals and underlying feelings— It was a complete surrender in the upmost exigency. 

“Y— Yours, Eddie, I’m all yours.”

“Good girl. That’s it..”

Your pussy is trembling, contracting around each thrust that relentlessly pounds in and out, your back sure to be decorated from the tiles imprinting with every jolt. The air catches around the dryness coating your throat, the moisture sucked out the minute Eddie brought your face to his, forehand resting against yours. 

Sweat and slick echos the heavy walls, rebounding and drawing every moan from Eddie to ring through your ears like a sweet melody. 

“Cum with me, sweetheart. Okay? Let me feel you.”

Within moments you were mimicking his cries, the harsh flush washing over your entire body, skin like fire as your orgasm bares down on the cock inside you, pumping and milking his own release along with it. The milky white dripping from leakage around his cock still thrusting slowly, trails along your thigh. 

It was bittersweet when he brought you back down to your feet, heavy emotion’s dangling between you both in question to unmissable to ignore. But the tender reassurance of his hands slipping into the dips of your waist, following with a smile— Dimples creases the apple of his cheeks.

“I mean it. I’ll never let you hurt again.”

[neurunique]

Part two of this,

You sit down in the buzzing cafe and take a sip of your favourite drink order; its so delicious, surprising you for a cafe at a campus. The warm liquid fills your mouth, waking you up and refreshing your mind. You look around - and you think how lucky you are to be here, how grateful you are - the scenery is beautiful, it somehow feels both brand new and having been there a long time aswell - you notice in the distance a beautiful garden and wonder if that adorable Thai man had created it; it was absolutely huge and bursting with colour and variety.

You read the map in more detail and then realise you hadn't even checked your schedule first. Time... 12pm, okay, not bad. Class - 1230, building C, what did the numbers mean? There's no way there were 1200 rooms in one building?! You keep checking the map, going back and forth to the map and then the schedule, until someone taps your shoulder, another student; and says

"Don't panic, kiddo. The first number is the floor, the second is the area, and the last two are the room number. See?" He points to the building across from the cafe and shows a room on the second floor. "That would be 2203, for example. You got this."

"Thank you," what a kind stranger. Everyone here seems to be so friendly! You smile and then realise after he leaves to get a coffee that he was actually kind of cute, if only you'd noticed earlier so you could've slipped in some kind of compliment - too late now.

Your class is about healing and medicine, held by Angela Ziegler, although each class is to be held by a different guest speaker. You pay attention closely, occasionally taking notes, trying not to allow distractions so that you truly take in what is being taught. *It is hard*. You have memories of being in class back in school, where you'd be distracted and then have to ask many questions at the end, not PURELY from being distracted, but also from misunderstanding... You were younger then, though, and you knew you could do it this time.

Angela was a very warm presence, calming and reassuring. You could see why she was a regular pick on Overwatch missions; simply being near her brought you at ease. She mentions that some of the guest speakers will be notoriously known, and your ears perk up when you hear Zenyatta's name mentioned. Yay, more omnic teachers! you think to yourself. You love to see it and you can't help but smile again.

The class finishes and you have a break for about 30 minutes, probably enough time for a quick snack, but nothing more considering the large walks between classes and food locations. Your next class is history, which you are sure is taught by none other than Ramattra, and your nerves spike. Something about him just made you... nervous. It wasn't a fear nervous. It was something else... you just couldn't put your finger on it.

You also couldn't wait to see how this would turn out.

You manage to get to somewhere for lunch, but being late is not something you want to do on your first day; so you only buy a small sandwich and another coffee. You eat half sitting down, and the other half while walking; trying to balance holding your ice latte in one hand and your sandwhich and bag in the other. You seem to be managing just fine, as long as no one walks too close to you. Sadly, though, you can't check the time like this, so you just hope that you get there in time... You kind of get the feeling that, while he might not hate humans as much as he used to, he would not be impressed with lateness.

Practically running, you make it to the lecture hall, proud of yourself for remembering the room number (and floor). You've finished your sandwich, and about 3/4 of your coffee remains; fuck it, it'll be fine, it's coconut milk anyway - plus its so unlikely you spill it - but it is a brand new classroom...

You start to notice the anxiety already brewing in your mind. *Maybe I have had too much coffee today,* you think, sadly - but you love coffee - you take another sip and gather your things, and walk into the room breathing deeply, noticing the way that the room is silent. You flick your head around to check that the class hasn't already started, and thankfully, it hasn't.

But... you *are* forced to sit in the front row.

Ramattra eventually walks in the room, and, *he* was a minute late... the room is tense, unsure, quiet. He looks around the room briefly and of course, there is no expression readable - he simply walks to his stand-up podium desk-thing projector combination and turns on his laptop. He looks up again, as if he forgot something, and says,

"Hello, everyone," his chest rises slowly as if he's *breathing*, and maybe he's even more nervous than *you*, which to be honest makes sense, this can't be easy if you've never done this before.

"I am sure all of you know who I am, and if you don't, then it's a good thing you are in this class." He would probably have smiled if he could. His voice commands the rooms attention with every word, extremely precise and sharp, but not too loud. "My name is Ramattra, and I am - or rather, was? - the leader of Null Sector, the omnic rebellion group striving for equal rights some time ago.

"As you know, the war was won and peace was achieved, and that is why we are all here today, sharing this space, human and omnic," He seems much more relaxed now, you notice; and it calms you aswell. "A dream that seemed far from reality when I first began conducting the movement.

He continues,

"While I am happy this is the case, and yes, I can feel happiness, despite what you may have heard," and now you KNOW he would be smiling, because he sort of *laughs* at the end of that sentence; "There is still much we must come to terms with, and much we must learn about... Ourselves, eachother, the world around us, the world that once was, the history we come from.

"And that is why I am here, to teach you these things, well I guess talk about them and hope that you pay attention."

You swallow a dry lump in your throat. You cannot believe how powerful this man is, this *omnic* man, standing so close to you, directing this class. How he can deliver such a speech, AFTER a war,where the motive is not to recruit, but simply to educate.

And it excites you (^^).

You only hope that you can pay attention, because not only was history one of your worst subjects in school, and not only did you always struggle to learn subjects that weren't second-nature (you found them boring), but you realise that up close, Ramattra is actually *extremely attractive*, and you worry that being metres away from him for 2 hours will prevent you from learning a single thing...

The class starts and you manage to take down.. One page of notes. You catch yourself daydreaming plenty, scribbling side notes, and lightly tapping your feet (quiet enough so that students hopefully can't hear it). By the end of the class, you have a beautiful border of symbols and flowers on your page surrounding your notes, however you have probably missed about 80% of the content. *I'm sure it'll be online anyway,* You think, and then you remember WHY you couldn't focus, and that hearing his voice even without seeing him is probably enough to distract you...

"Hello," a calm voice says to you... voice box... Ramattra's. You instinctively bite your lip as if you were talking out loud, and have the urge to apologise...

"Um, hi," you smile, snapping out of it. *be professional, be polite, don't be weird, this is your career... your future.*

"If it is okay, I would like to speak with you," he isn't looking directly at you, he is looking instead at the several students exiting the room, acknowledging each one, leaving himself approachable incase anyone has a question. "Alone."

You feel entirely confused; what? Is this real? How...

"Sure," you say calmly, FAKE calm, of course.

"Not long now." He waves to the last student leaving and faces you, and for the first time you realise he has your attention, and you have his, and you think back to how many times you have wondered what this would be like, to be face to face with him...

"I apologise if this comes across harsh," he says, sighing. "I don't mean for it to be. But I also don't know how to ask such things...

"Do you... need some help? I cannot help but notice you didn't really... pay much attention. And I am not criticising you, I just wonder if there's anything I can do."

He waits for your response, but you can't think of anything to say. He continues

"Um, I heard that there is a department for people with neurodiversity, you know, attention-difficulty related... I'm not really sure how these things work, I am sorry."

He lowers his head and puts a hand to his head, clearly he is stressing about this; you instantly recognise this and speak up.

"No, no no. Please. It is okay." You smile and shake your head, "I totally get it. I was... you're right. And yes, I do struggle with those things, and I didn't know about that department, so thank you," you push your lips together and think of how to finish the sentence... "Ramattra."

He looks up at you at the sound of his name and you can tell that he is at ease; and possibly even... respectful? He doesn't seem like one to give respect *easily*, but...

"Okay, great. Look, I don't mind at all, I'm not offended if you can't keep up, I'm sure you're not the only one too. Just please let me know if you need help or any questions. I am new to this myself and don't want to neglect anyone."

You smile at him and start to gather your things. You're relieved that you could reassure him; but also sort of surprised and grateful that some one had reached out to you this way, especially on the first day.

"Everything's online these days anyway, right? I can just re-watch the lecture..." you say, faintly smiling, wanting to slide in a joke but not wanting to be too awkward...

Ramattra chuckles. "Yeah, like anyone would want to hear my voice twice. You do know I am the only omnic teacher here, right?" He doesn't mean it rudely, you know this, but you can tell he is slightly on edge about his own first day, let alone being the only one of his kind on the teaching list...

"I think your voice is lovely," you say quietly, and the dry swallow is back; butterflies fill you and you *immediately* regret it.

He isn't aware of the intent of your compliment, so he ignores any possibility of flirtation, and simply says "Then I'm sure you won't struggle too much with the content, if you can stand to hear me talking even outside of the classroom. I have full faith in you, student. Now, I must leave, and walk for 15 minutes to my next class. It was nice to talk with you."

You nod and get out of your seat while he packs up his things. As you leave, he adds,

"I am grateful," and you know what he means; the tricky conversation he had to initiate, possibly for the first time in his life; and your help.

You simply smile and nod, walking out of the room, hoping that he goes in a different direction when he eventually leaves.

💜❤️ thank you for reading! This isn’t the end ~

[monsterbeetlebug]

A quick turn of events, part 1.

Beetlejuice x FemReader Mafia AU

Eventuall smut starts in part 2.

Possible TW: smoking, alcohol

-> part 2

The Don

A thin layer of smoke floats in a dimly lit room. The soft sounds of a fireplace crackling and dying out. A dark wooden desk is overflowing with papers and stacks of money. There's a glas of whiskey. Still cold. A ball of ice floating slowly around. Making a soft clink when it hits the glass. A full ashtray with a half smoked cigar resting on the edge. Smoke rising from the tip.

As the fireplace let's out it's last big crack from the burnt wood a chair creaks. In the darkness behind the desk it slowly turns around. Facing the door. A hand reaches out from the shadows. Elegantly picking up the cigar and lifting it up to the owners lips. Then it picks up the glas and swirls the whiskey around. The ball of ice clinking around in the glas. A low and raspy voice mutters into the silent room.

"I feel like the club could use a checkup today."

Sweeping the floor of a local store, Y/n couldn't wait to finish her shift. It was Friday. The end of the first week at her new job. She had been invited to go out together with some of her colleagues. And she was excited about it. She'd get to know them more than just at work. Y/n had moved across the country for a fresh start. So she felt happy that her colleagues wanted to invite her. It made her feel more included in her job and around them. Made her confident with her new start.

After closing up shop and saying goodbye to the others working the closing shift she walked home. It wasn't a long walk. Probably a five minute walk or so. Y/n spent the afternoon getting ready. Taking a shower to wash away work and feel fresh. She rested and ate some food while her hair was drying. Taking her time to doll up a little and listening to her favourite songs.

Before leaving she checked her outfit in the mirror. She had put one of her black dresses on. One that she liked and felt at least at bit pretty wearing. She put on her high heeled boots that somehow matched with the dress. Her hair was free and wild, it felt good. She had put on her favourite pair of silver hoop earrings and some mascara. A simple but pretty necklace to match the earrings. She actually felt pretty cool. Posing and being silly in front of the mirror before she left. Smiling while leaving her apartment.

She met her colleagues just down the street. Waving and saying hi as she approached them. She felt curious about the place they were going. A local nightclub. Y/n had never been in a place like that before. It was exciting. She felt butterflies in her stomach as she walked together with her colleagues. They assured her that this place was amazing and that she would love it. Telling her about all the different drinks. The music. The decor of the place. Mentioning that some local hotties usually went there too. Maybe she could have some fun with an attractive guy tonight. As they got closer Y/n could hear the low beat of the music. The entrance looked spectacular. Almost like an old timey cinema but way more class. The inside kept it vintage and classy but still feeling like a nightclub. She was in awe. Here eyes not knowing where to look first.

Her colleagues lead her to the bar. They started ordering drinks of all sizes and colours. Once Y/n got her drink she started looking around herself just taking in the scenery of the club. She sipped at a bright green drink that tasted like a sweet delicious apple as she looked around. It looked so elegant while keeping the club and nightlife wild. It was full of black, green and gold. Purple neon lights tastefully placed. Sitting booths had dim orange lighting. The whole place felt so eccentric and perfectly balanced. People where dancing, lounging and having fun. It even had a VIP lounge too. Not that it seemed to really be used right now. She thought it was empty at first glance. Looking back at it she could she teh outline of man leaning on the railing. She looked away. Was his eyes glowing? No. That's just silly. It was probably just the glow of his cigarette. Yes. That must have been it.

Feeling a hand on her shoulder she jumped slightly and turned around. Her heartbeat skyrocketed for a second. She turned to see one of her colleagues smiling and laughing. Y/n let put a relived breath and a laugh.

"Didn't mean to scare you, but I wanted to ask what you think so far?"

Y/n started smiling again as she answered.

"Oh, it's great. This place looks so cool. I couldn't even have imagined a more impressive place."

Giving an honest answer. She turned slightly to look up at the lounge again. The man was gone now. Only smoke seemed to flow gently from the lounge. Who was that guy. Was it even a guy in the first place? And why did she feel so curious. Something about it felt so mysterious. Her colleague looked up at the lounge too now. Cocking an eyebrow. They looked back at Y/n before they spoke out.

"It's probably just the Don. He owns the place. Rarely visits though. Heh, maybe someone will have a lucky night today."

She looked at her colleague. Giving her a slight look of confusion. Not understanding what was so lucky about the Don visiting his own club. He didn't even seem to wanna be around other people at all. How odd.

"Lucky night? How?"

Y/n asked and took a sip from her drink. Interested in what they meant. How could it be any different than any other night. It didn't seem like he did to much out of being there. Her colleague put her drink on a tall lounge table they stod close to.

"Okay, so here's the juicy story of how this could be a lucky night. That man up there is a single, powerful and handsome dude. And.. He usually picks out a gal maybe even a few later in the night to spoil while he's at the club. So if anyone has some luck maybe he'll pick one or more of us to join him later. Doesn't that sound exciting?"

Y/n looked back up at the lounge. A bit lost in thought. Not really sure if it was something to be excited about or just ignore it all together. She shifted her view and looked into her drink.

"Yeah.."

Her colleague slightly bumps her shoulder and giggles.

"Come on, let's join the others and have some fun. Really let loose tonight."

Smiling and nodding Y/n finishes her drink. Puts the glass down on the table and joins her colleagues on the dance floor. They dance and joke together. Having a blast and forgetting the rest of the world for a while. They even play some billiard and shuffle board. Her colleagues try flirting with some hot people. Some end up leaving with their catch of the night. Y/n didn't really find anyone interesting. She still had the curious thought of the Mafia boss in the back of her mind. It was intriguing. Getting back to the bar Y/n orders a drink that sounds interesting. She chats with one of her colleagues. Feeling happy and content with her night.

That's when she feels a tap on her shoulder. Huh? She turned to look at who tapped her shoulder. She froze up a little . Even other people around started slightly. A tall and pale man looked down at her with a serious face. He looked almost like a ghost. He wore a beautiful dark blue suit with silver accessories. His dark hair was slicked back. His right ear had a rift in it. Hands behind his back. A raspy yet soft and dark voice spoke out. Was this the Don your colleague spoke about. He looked so intimidating and handsome.

"Follow me."

Y/n blinks a few times. What? What's happening now. She looked to her colleagues in confusion. Then back at the man. They where just as shocked as her. This surely had to be a mistake.

"Me? Are you sure?"

The man just looked down at her with the same serious face. Not angry or annoyed. He just looked calm as he answered.

"Yes, boss asked for you spesifically."

Y/n turned to her colleagues. One of them whispered and shooed her to follow him. Smiling at her.

"The Don obviously picked you. Come on. Go. Enjoy it."

The man turned and started walking towards the stairway of the VIP lounge. Y/n quickly followed. She smiled and waved goodbye to her colleagues. Questions passed through her head on the way up to. Who was the Don if this wasn't him? What could he possibly want with her? Was she dreaming? How is she the one to be picked. She wasn't even the prettiest girl in the club. Was he really sure she was the right girl? She didn't even have time to ask before he stopped. He opened a black door leading into the lounge stepping aside to let her in first. She softly thanked him and nervously went in. The tall man closed the door behind him and stood guarding next to it. The beat of the music still going but sounding a lot lower. Not knowing what to expect she looked around. Curious of what was going on. Only thinking of being respectful. Better to be safe than sorry, right.

Y/n looked around in the dark room. It looked empty. Except for the glass of whisky on the table. A black couch stretching along the wall on her right. She felt so confused. How was it empty? Then she noticed the outline of a man sitting on the couch. Fear started creeping into her. Her breath quivered a bit.

"No need to be scared darling."

A voice chuckled from the shadows. A click and he lit a cigarette. The soft glow lit up the mans face for a few seconds. He had a smirk on his face. The shimmer of a gold tooth peaked out in his smirk. A devilish glint in his eyes. Y/n heard the burning from the cigarette. Smoke seeped out in the room from where he sat. He slowly raised from his seat. He snapped his fingers and the room lit up a bit. Still dim but she could at least see better. She could see him now. And he was an impressing looking man. Dangerously handsome. His eyes looked dark as if there was a shadow around them. Almost ghostly. He wore a dark green pinstripe suit complete with a black shirt. A black tie and matching pocket square. He had several gold rings matching his gold tooth. His hair was slicked back and green towards the tips. Just the view of him sent a good feeling up her spine. But how did he do that? Maybe the other guy turned up the lights. The man slowly made his way over to Y/n. He gently placed the cigarette between his lips. His dark eyes studying her. She felt awkward standing there. Not knowing where to place her hands. Not knowing where to look. He walked up to her. He stopped right next to her facing the door and the taller man.

"Antonio, be a gent and get her something to drink would you. Anything she wants."

He turned around. Blowing out another puff of smoke. He never touched the cigarette after having placed it between his lips. It was surprisingly attractive to watch. He never even had the need to take it out to speak. He was waiting for Antonio as he apparently was called. Antonio took a step closer to them.

"Want do you want miss?"

Y/n panicked. What drink did she remember. She didn't really remember any except one.

"Uh..a blue lagoon, thank you."

She felt so out of place. Not wanting to upset any of them. Most of all the Don. He put an arm out and gestured to the couch. Letting her go first and sit down. He sits down next to her, but still keeping a short distance to not make her to uncomfortable. Taking the cigarette and holding it between his index and middle finger. Soflty scratching his chin with the same hand. His dark raspy voice breaking through the low beat of the music down stairs.

"So, I have this proposition for you."

[anticipatecrime]

'𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙩𝙚' 𝙧𝙮𝙖𝙣 𝙡𝙪𝙘𝙖𝙣 𝙭 𝙢𝙖𝙡𝙚 𝙊𝘾 | chapter i

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: ex-drummer of a band, ronan finds himself not knowing where to go, but when his aunt eleanor lethe invites him to haven springs, he says fuck it, and moves into the lethe flowers shop. he's excited yet scared for his fresh start as a trans guy in a small town. 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨: 1.5k 𝙖/𝙣:keep watching lis true colours playthroughs and getting myself attached to ryan. i'm using this to dig myself out of a writing grave💀 had a very popular tumblr fanfic account almost two years ago.. i'm welcoming myself back woo! enjoy this because theres no ryan fics.

he watched the scenery go by, trying to fight the boredom, as his eyes almost shut. the trees, the mountains, the wildlife.. it wasn’t doing it for him anymore. after more than forty hours, it stops being as beautiful and intriguing as it once was.

the only thing actually distracting him from his lack of enthusiasm was his music. he did slight movements side to side. god he loved music, even moreso loved the violent femmes.

‘when i’m out walkin’, i strut my stuff man im so strung out’

‘i’m high as a kite, i just might stop to check you out’ instantly, he was infront of a crowd again, his air drumsticks became real ones and the crowd was cheering, bouncing up and down to the sound of his band. everyone seemed to be on a buzz, just enjoying themselves.

he missed that feeling, he missed performing with his band, but.. theres no way he could go back, especially with what happened his ex, aka the bassist.

he shook his head, and took his headphones off. ‘no reason to think about the past, when we’re constantly in the future’ he thought, continuing to look out the window.

he hoped in anticipation that he would arrive to his destination soon. the bus felt oddly cramped, even though there was only himself on it. maybe three stops ago the last people got off. young hipsters who reeked of marijuana.

suddenly, ronan was pulled out of his thoughts when the breaks of the bus were slammed, and his glasses were launched off his eyes. ‘jesus’ he thought, scrambling to pick them back up.

“sorry kid! these breaks are so unstable, got stuck at the last minute.”

“its uh, okay?” he replied, finally realizing where he was. it was a two day, six bus journey, but finally ronan arrived in haven springs. and thank fuck for that.

he grabbed his luggage, and began rolling it off the bus, sending a smile and wave to the bus driver. "have a good one!"

"you too! enjoy the small town culture." he said, before closing the doors and moving forward.

"wow.. a frest start." he hummed, looking forward to seeing his aunt eleanor, probably his only family member that wasn't deceased or estranged. he was lucky to have her as such a supportive person in his life.

she supported him when he came out as trans, then gay, when he dropped out of law school and focused on music instead, when he moved away from his biological mother and when he needed a place to stay. It was like this woman was his guardian angel.

now, he just needed to find where she was. She offered him one of the spare offices in the flower shop.

he started walking forwards, and his jaw dropped in awe, shocked at the beautiful stone bridge infront of him. It was decorated with beautiful flowers and vines.

it looks so different but the vibe is the same, he can remember being about five years old here, visiting his aunt for the weekend. he got to see the spring festival, play with some of the other kids here, he vaguely remembers a few people from here. crazy to think the last time he was here was in 2001.

he strolls along, making sure to take in every building, every person who glances at him.

unexpectedly, an arm was around him. He turns, seeing someone unfamiliar. "hi? do i know you?"

"no you do not." a girl with red glasses chuckles kindly. "but i know you! ronan, right? awesome to meet you."

"nice to meet you too.. random person." his eyes narrowed.

"oh my god, sorry!" she laughs. "i'm alex!"

"alex what are you-" another voice chims in. "oh, sick."

"anyways, i'm alex chen, this is steph, welcome to haven springs!"

"thanks." he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling so uncomfortable at the sudden social presence. alex grabbed onto stephs hand, and they took a step back together.

"sorry, we just don't get new people often. i understand how it feels to be bombarded with welcomes, i was the new person before you i guess." alex took a deep breath, thinking about her first day here, and everything that happened.

"eleanor posted about you arriving today, so don't be shocked if more people come up to you, i'll try to calm them down a bit. in the meantime, do you want us to guide you to eleanor's shop?" she offered.

"oh uh, sure!"

the walk was fairly silent, and it was only making things more awkward. "so.. tell me about the other townspeople?" he suggested, with a shrug of his shoulder.

"well there's not too many people are age, other than ryan, and uh hector." steph begins to whisper. "he uh, really likes his dog chrissy, one time he lost her and started listening to breakup songs."

"hey, i'd be sad too if i lost my dog.. maybe not breakup song sad but still!" he snickered. "also, riley's off to college right?"

"yeah, she's going to be visiting this summer though." alex adds in.

"i remember ryan, he's 3 years older than me, i remember his dad making him play dragons with me."

"that reminds me, are you all caught up with everything that's happened in the past two years?" alex questions, curiously.

ronan grimaces. "yeah, hard to miss on the news, even from a different state. i was thinking about saying something earlier but i didn't want to take down the mood. i'm really sorry for everything that happened to you alex, but you're so strong and i can't believe everything you uncovered."

alex pauses in her step and looks at ronans aura. it was a light blue tint. she breaths in, and out, not knowing what to say. steph notices, and takes over.

"we're here!" she announces. "eleanor will be somewhere in there, when you're done getting used to the town, there's a welcome party down at the black lantern for you."

he glances to alex, mouthing an apology, before smiling. "okay, i'll see you guys there, then?"

"yes you will." steph confirmed, before her and alex left towards the record shop.

'time to see eleanor' he thought, nervously. the one person that has always supported him. what if she doesn't feel the same as she once did?

he pushes the door handle, causing the bell to ring. "RONAN!" she exclaims, running towards the boy. "oh how i've missed you." the older woman hugs him tight. "i'm sorry for everything that's happened."

ronan exhaled shakily, trying not to get too emotional on his first day. "it's okay, it's all in the past now." he reassured her, not wanting to upset eleanor more.

she breaks away from him and gives a warming smile. "i'm so happy you're here. i had ryan help furnish your room, since i'm not used to decorating."

"oh? thank you." he smiled. "how is he? still a nerd about nature?"

"oh honey, he's a park ranger now." eleanor says, making the two giggle. "very into birds."

"i expected nothing less from him." ronan shrugs, beginning to walk around the shop.

eleanor pauses for a moment, before smiling again. "but he's a very great guy ya'know, he's looking forward to seeing you again."

"oh geez.." he mumbled, rubbing his hands together anxiously. hearing that made him nervous. 'he's looking forward to seeing you again.'

ronan only started transitioning 5 years ago, and came out 4 years ago. ryans version of him is much different then how he is now. it would be like meeting a completely different person.

"don't worry about anything okay darling? i didn't tell anyone that you were transgender other than people who knew you before. all i said on myblock was that my nephew was moving here."

"thank you eleanor, it really means a lot." he smiled.

"oh oh, i'm sorry, let me help you with those." she rolled one of the suitcases towards the back. "follow me when you're ready!"

ronan looked around at all the flowers and plants. there was lilies, roses, sunflowers, orchids and so many more. it smelled like natural perfume. he's always loved flowers, fantasized about getting them one day. he huffed, and rolled his eyes at his own thoughts, and took off towards the back.

he passed one closed door before seeing an open door, most likely his. he took a step in and was in awe, it looked perfect for his stay. it almost reminded him of his teenage bedroom, but if it was in a cottage. "i remember some of the bands you were messaging me about, so i thought what else would be better to put on the walls then posters."

ronan reached over and hugged her once more. "this is too much, im so grateful to have you, thank you."

"it's no problem dear." she smiled brightly. "here, i'll leave you to settle in, i'll be working just down the hall in the office. if you finish unpacking before the welcome party, don't feel shy, go explore and make friends!"

"i'll try." he sighed, as eleanor shut the bedroom door.

he stood for a moment, trying to catch his breath. 'finally.. peace and quiet'

ronan began unpacking his bags. he had two rolling suitcases, a duffle bag, and a tote bag. it was a lot of luggage to carry around on six buses but it was necessary. he also had some other items coming in the mail, like his drum kit and guitar.

he started with the first suitcase, pulling out essential items like toothpaste, toothbrush, menstrual products, a variety of soaps, some candles. then it started getting into the little nicknacks. some being stuff he picked up on his travels, others just things that have memories attached to them.

after putting his toiletries in the bathroom, and the nicknacks on the blank shelves above his desk and bed, he started sorting through his clothing. he put piles of clothes into the closet, and a few extra things into the drawers under his bed.

to say ronan was exhausted, was an understatement. he just traveled through four states in roughly two days, met a bunch of people on his way, and in haven, and had to unpack as his first chore.

he took off his glasses before he collapsed onto the bed, the comforter a dark navy plaid, with black sheets. "can't believe i'm back here after all this time." he breathed.

now he just has to get through the rest of the day, and he'll be fine. right?

a/n: thank you for reading the first chapter of out of state, plenty more to come :) also i'd love to have anons if anyone would want to be an anon

[day0fnight]

A LITTLE BIT ABOUT ME ✩ ✩

i go by vera, she/her! i’m a metalhead, horror fanatic, video game lover and a collector of many things ^_^ i’m really obsessed with silent hill and i’m bisexual - check out my featured tags for more tag navigation - this is my virtual photography main blog, my writing and much more personal side blog is @world0fmadness - my gg profile can be found here here

i mainly post unfiltered virtual photography and unfiltered icons for characters! my icons are free to use with no credit required, unless you’d like to give credit of course, so use them as you please

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✩ ✩ VIDEO GAMES I POST FOR AND BLOG NAVIGATION

clicking an underlined game title will take you right to the tag containing all of my posts for said game, this list will expand over time!

A PLAGUE TALE INNOCENCE - AVATAR: FRONTIERS OF PANDORA *

BANISHERS: GHOSTS OF NEW EDEN - BEYOND: TWO SOULS - BRAMBLE: THE MOUNTAIN KING

CONTROL - CYBERPUNK 2077 *

DETROIT: BECOME HUMAN - DEVIL MAY CRY 5 - DOKI DOKI LITERATURE CLUB PLUS!

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GAL GUN: DOUBLE PEACE - GHOSTWIRE: TOKYO - GRAND THEFT AUTO V

GHOST OF TSUSHIMA - IKI ISLAND DLC

GOD OF WAR III REMASTERED - GOD OF WAR - GOD OF WAR RAGNARÖK - VALHALLA DLC

HORIZON FORBIDDEN WEST - BURNING SHORES DLC

HOGWARTS LEGACY

INFINITY NIKKI [ COMING SOON ] - JUDAS [ COMING SOON ]

KENA: BRIDGE OF SPIRITS - KONA

LAYERS OF FEAR - LOST RECORDS: BLOOM AND RAGE [ COMING SOON ] - LOLLIPOP CHAINSAW REPOP [ COMING SOON ]

LIFE IS STRANGE REMASTERED - LIFE IS STRANGE: BEFORE THE STORM REMASTERED - FAREWELL DLC - LIFE IS STRANGE: TRUE COLOURS - WAVELENGTHS DLC - LIFE IS STRANGE: DOUBLE EXPOSUE [ COMING SOON ]

MAFIA: DEFINITIVE EDITION - MAFIA II: DEFINITIVE EDITION

MARVEL’S SPIDER-MAN REMASTERED - THE HEIST DLC - MARVEL’S SPIDER-MAN: MILES MORALES - MARVEL’S SPIDER-MAN 2

METRO 2033 REDUX - METRO: LAST LIGHT REDUX - METRO EXODUS - SAM’S STORY DLC - THE TWO COLONELS DLC

MIXTAPE [ COMING SOON ] - OPEN ROADS

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RESIDENT EVIL 4 REMAKE * - RESIDENT EVIL VILLAGE - SHADOWS OF ROSE DLC

SHADOWS OF THE DAMNED: HELLA REMASTERED [ COMING SOON ] - SHADOW OF THE TOMB RAIDER - SILENT HILL 2 REMAKE [ COMING SOON ] - SLEEPNG DOGS: DEFINITIVE EDITION - SPIRITFARER - STAR WARS JEDI: SURVIVOR * - STELLAR BLADE

THE ARTFUL ESCAPE * - THE DARK PICTURES ANTHOLOGY: HOUSE OF ASHES - THE QUARRY - THE WOLF AMONG US 2 [ COMING SOON ] - TOMB RAIDER: DEFINITIVE EDITION

THE LAST OF US PART I - LEFT BEHIND DLC - THE LAST OF US PART II REMASTERED

THE WALKING DEAD: SEASON ONE - THE WALKING DEAD: SEASON TWO - THE WALKING DEAD: THE FINAL SEASON

UNTIL DAWN - UNTIL DAWN REMAKE [ COMING SOON ]

UNCHARTED: A THEIF’S END - UNCHARTED: THE LOST LEGACY

YAKUZA KIWAMI - YAKUZA KIWAMI 2

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[march-harrigan]

Arkham Dork Squad: 5, 6, 18! And for another one: 13, 20, 21 for your lovely lil haresona u-u

OKAY, SO! I answered 5 and 18 for Jervis here! The rest, I'll put under a cut.

Jervis

6- Favourite thing this character has said? - This is a tough one, because I love just about everything that comes out of this man's mouth and it also really depends on the version! From his entire monologue in his Joker's Asylum story and his breakdown in BTAS(Perchance to Dream). Or sillier things like his rhyming argument with cash in Arkham Knight or... Just about anything in Secret Six.

One that did stick out to me though, in terms of characterization and how I generally perceive his motives was in Arkham Origins. When he's testing the mind control devices on his "rabbits."

"That's always been the trouble, though, hasn't it? No one ever wanted to hear what Jervis had to say. He might as well have been invisible."

THIS is exactly what I mean when I say he feels overlooked. Jervis has a need to feel seen. To be important and valued enough to be heard. And that's exactly where at least some of his issues with control begin.

Jonathan

5- What do you not like about this character? - I'm gonna be honest. The major thing I dislike isn't even that deep. I just think he should be depicted as Southern more often. That we should have a selection of official, Southern-accented voices to pick from.

Don't get me wrong, I love the depictions of Jon that we have. But ever since I learned about Year One Scarecrow, I need that Georgia boy!

-

6- Favourite thing this character has said? - You know that part in Arkham Knight where you go back to the clock tower and you have to take out a bunch of militia guys and Scarecrow's waxing poetic about fear? Describing the effects it has on the body, how ancient it is, the kind of primal fear our ancestors felt?

Yeah, all of that.

-

18- What’s something you associate this character with? E.g. a certain colour, object or scenery? - I associate him with autumn colors. Orange, brown, and red mostly. Obviously, there's just the entire concept of fear. He's usually on my mind when I get the urge to binge some horror content.

Halloween is another big association. Whether he loves it because it suits his motif or hates it because of related trauma, I feel like every version of Jonathan Crane has some strong feelings about Halloween, one way or the other.

Eddie

5- What do you not like about this character? - I don't really have a lot of negative to say about Ed. At least as a whole.

I guess if I were to gripe about a specific version, it would be Gotham. I liked him well enough? But his transition from Ed Nygma to the Riddler was just. Not great in general. I feel like someone who's watched the series more than once could explain it better than I can. It was all very weird, and not in a good way.

-

6- Favourite thing this character has said? - Honestly, everything out of Arkham!Riddler's mouth is pure gold. He's quickly become my favorite just for the shit he says and Wally Wingert's flawless delivery of that shit! The most memorable though would probably be the classic:

“You solved it? Ah, but this is merely check, detective. Soon I will be mating you. Wait, I meant chess! Chess, you base, gutter-minded savage!”

-

18- What’s something you associate this character with? E.g. a certain colour, object or scenery? - The obvious color is green(and to a lesser extent, purple). I associate the Riddler with games and puzzles of all kinds. Just going by the things on my desk there's crosswords and Rubik's cubes and... Yeah, even dice, although he's more about skill than chance.

Portal comes to mind too. I feel like he'd enjoy the games(and making his own test chambers).

March

13- Contrary wise if it is an OC, what’s your favourite story with them in it you’ve written? - I am... Honestly so bad about actually writing the content for my self-inserts and OCs. Any plotlines that happen are either in my head or RP if I'm lucky.

I guess one of my favorite ideas I have for them(on how they meet Jervis) is the one where Jervis has recently broken out of Arkham. He returns to his old hideout to grab a few things only to discover that someone's broken in.

He finds them at the table. Full costume, feet propped up and sipping tea. They claim to be the March Hare and he just kind of... Accepts/goes along with it? All is forgiven because, after all, "what's a little breaking and entering between friends?"

However, what Jervis will not tolerate, is their FEET on the TABLE!

Shortly after this, he helps them improve their costume, including a set of ears with a neural link that enables them to control the ears via thought and emotion.

-

20- Contrary wise, if this character is an OC, how does their presence change the story? - Call me Mary Sue, but the biggest change is just. To Jervis. The friendship(and eventual romance) helps stabilize him to a certain degree. Though, at the same time, March is a huge enabler for some of his crimes. A simultaneous "I can fix him" and "I can make him worse."

-

21- Wild card! Talk about anything to do with this character! Anything at all! - Gonna do a Jervis-related one and one that's not related to Jervis because like. This sona is for self ship, but I also wanna develop them as their own character beyond "haha date Jervis."

Depending on version(AKA if it's one of the takes where Jervis does the rhyming thing), March will rhyme along with him. In fact, it's not uncommon for the two of them to have conversations entirely in verse where they complete each other's rhymes. They are both VERY good at improv this way.

March likes to collect weapons and has quite the assortment. Various swords and knives, a medieval mace. Some throwing knives in the shape of playing cards if they feel like being a bit more On Brand. They have a few guns, but those aren't really favorites. It's more that they can acknowledge them as more efficient in certain situations.

There is, however, a tommy gun they've gotten attached to. They favor it during heists.

Bonus: Their favorite tea is Earl Grey, but they're also big on breakfast teas.

[heirofgriefalwayspresent]

Start of Chapter One: Same Feeling, Different Situation.

Opening his eyes to Spring's blinding morning sun, Ariel tried lifting his head from the bed, only to realize a hand quickly came down and smacked him in the face. Rubbing his forehead, he tried to get out of bed as discreetly as humanly possible; Ariel's mother had been very clear that, as he was the eldest, he had to set an "example" in regards to the way he conducted himself. Nevertheless, the sound of a burp that escaped the mouth of one of his younger brothers tried his patience as an umpleasant smell permeated his nostrils. Rubbing his eyebrows, Ariel stepped lightly over the various beds that were tightly cramped inside the bedroom. In spite of the space's size, eight beds gave little room for anyone to walk in, which did not annoy the other children due to them being quite small. His father and mother knew that, in a few years, they would eventually need to move them to separate rooms.

Stepping out into the hall, the young man was able to see a window in which his reflection was shown. A boy of around fifteen years of age and hair that looked like a cow had licked it stared back from the glass whilst he picked up a brown poncho that hanged near the door. As Ariel felt the familiar feeling of the cloth draping over him, his hands touched the pockets that were sewn into the insides of the fabric; inside it, a few trinkets rested, the pride of Ariel's collection.

Scoffing, the young man felt one of his pieces to be missing, and so he stormed towards the kitchen, where the smell of beef broth and vegetables rested on top of a pot with a lid half-open, smoke steaming out from it. His mother stood there, watching from the window as her ears perked up, noticing Ariel's presence immediately. He did not know how to pop the question, for he was well aware that both of his parents did not agree with his hobby of collecting old junk.

"Well, look who's up this early! You sleep well, hun?" Dalilah smiled, rubbing Ariel's hair as she walked towards the outside to check on a few clothes that had been hanging to dry. In the sunlight, It was quite clear to see that Ariel took very little from his mother aside from her hazel-coloured eyes, because her tanned skin and bright brown hair wore little resemblance with Ariel's pale complexion and black cowlick.

"Ma, have you seen my knife? The one me and Ramon found the other day, you know? The one with the green-"

"Carla came by earlier to tell me all about that. Now, why did you hit that Bogdi boy? I thought we agreed that you were going to stay away from him, and now I hear you all fought because of...what, a small piece o' junk? You're going to be coming of age soon, for the Lords's sake. Would it kill you to be a little bit more careful?"

"So what, I'm just supposed to let them step all over me? Nah, that's not happening; Ramon's always been a good friend of yours, hasn't he? What's up with you suddenly starting a fight with him?" Dalilah urged Ariel to check on the stew as she spoke.

"He's an asshole-"

"Ariel, language!" With a low grunt, Dalilah's son continued.

"I've been trying for the last few weeks to get Bogdi off of my back, and all Ramon does is run his mouth and cause more trouble! What did Carla tell you? Why did you even give her my stuff? That's an invasion of my privacy, you know."

"Didn't you say way back then that 'the things we find with the guys are everyone's', mister?"

"Not when one of the guys is an annoying prick and the other is an instigator, no!" Folding his arms, the young man stepped out for a bit to get some air, watching the morning scenery as it unfolded in front of him whilst his mother tasted the stew, a satisfied groan escaping her throat.

The small community in charge of the Whemworth family stood the test of time for a few decades, about five or six generations of rulers and many conflicts with both Devils and other cities in the region alike. As a result, these small moments of peace, like in the Festival that came after the harsh winter and welcoming the beautiful spring brought everyone a pleasant feeling of celebration.

Ariel, in contrast, felt stifled as he recalled what had happened during the last couple of days. He would have to find a small moment of free time during the following days, during which he would confront Ramon and get his newly acquired bauble back; he could tell that his mother was eager to try and stop him from engaging in this particular hobby he had, but he had found it too enjoyable to stop now. In turn, he only needed a small window of time to swing over to Ramon's house to find him and gets his knife back.

"Ah, Ariel! Go and get your father from the town for me, wouldja? He went to buy rosewater but he still hasn't come back yet, so I'm sure the oaf's gotten lost."

"...A small window of time which would not come yet, it seems.", Ariel thought as he took a small club next to the door of the house, walking towards the dirt road a few houses away from him.

[iorekbyrinson]

BCS S1 Costume Analysis: Mike Ehrmantraut

The story of the grey man, going from light to dark

this has been sat in my drafts for toooo long so I'm posting it, I WAS gonna do Mike throughout BCS but, as you can expect, my brain kind of melted whilst going through S2 haha. I like the writing here though so here goes

BCS costume designer Jennifer Bryan (who worked on BB too) has summarized colour theory on BCS as:

"On Breaking Bad, the colors [showed] the character's journey. What we did on Saul is that the colors put you into your category in life. So good folks, let's say on the legal side of things, have a certain palette, like military colors, navys, and greens, and blues. Guys on the other side of the law, the hustlers and the cons, I had them in reds and oranges, and colors of the New Mexico desert." 

The way I'm interpreting and analysing the costumes of each character are on the grounds of alignment - reflective of how the character perceives themselves, with some wider narrative themes thrown in. Less so red = evil, blue = good, more so a character in blue aligns themselves with good. Chuck, for example, is routinely lit and dressed in blue; he fully aligns himself with the law. As to whether his actions are actually good, however, is an entirely different argument.

And talking about wider narrative themes - looking back at Breaking Bad, the main theme of the series was the meth trade, and the character's proximity to it (the Breaking Bad wiki has an excellent resource about how Vince Gilligan used the colour wheel to demarcate this idea). In BCS, Gus's meth empire hasn't even been accomplished yet. The main theme of Better Call Saul is the legal profession - and how closely or loosely a character aligns themselves with their own interpretation of what that means. I'm also going to use Jennifer Bryan's description and various bits and pieces from Gilligould when relevant to structure these themes.

So to start off with - Mike. I'm starting with Mike because I think he has the simplest colour palette (black, white, grey). Mike's also an ex-police officer, so there's blue there too.

Going back to the first shot of Mike we have in BCS;

Blues with grey pants and yellow gloves. Mike's a cop at this point, but he's a bent cop, and his hands aren't clean; he's largely on the side of the law though, so the blues dominate. His grey pants could mean anything, but going from Mike's history I'm guessing its his moral ambivalence about taking an illegal stake.

Check out Matty, who's already matching his adored dad with the blue stripes. No grey here; Matty thinks his Dad's a hero. White too, because Matty's an innocent, but also orange - not because Matty's a criminal, but because he's going to get drawn into the criminal world unwillingly, and it's all because he followed his dad into the force.

Everything from the car dash to the clothes to the Boston scenery is matching here - browns, orange, blue, white. It's a family scene, all the more painful because we know how this ends. It's likely this is how Mike remembers his days with Matty, simpatico, with the tragedy far in the future.

The next time we see Mike, he's about to murder the men who killed his son. I kid you not, every single frame in this sequence is saturated in blue. In Mike's mind, he's pursuing his own law - he's righting a cosmic wrong. Because everyone in this scene is a cop (or was a cop), there's a preponderance of blue also. But Mike isn't wearing his blue on the outside - he's covered up with a coat and gloves. The coat isn't black - it's more of a dark camo green;

Which I think is more a callback to the coat Mike wears when all his sins come home to roost and he's shot by Walt in Breaking Bad.

He's wearing black gloves, which like the yellow gloves before are a marker - before Mike's hands were tainted with crime. In this scene, they're tainted with murder. We also see black a lot with characters who are a part of or become eventually Gus's faction. It's the colour Victor and Tyrus wear almost exclusively, and by Breaking Bad Mike is consistently wearing a black jacket. Black is the colour of death.

Also, amendment to what I said before; you can add green to Mike's palette too. It does crop up again in BCS - an allusion to Mike's military background, where he almost certainly handed out death, but it was government-sanctioned death.

Back in Albuquerque to re-connect with the daughter-in-law and granddaughter he hasn't seen in months, in a grey shirt. I'm not going to claim every scene of Mike can be analysed forensically, but there is significance in grey - it's Mike's "colour" in Better Call Saul (as Jennifer Wyman has mentioned here), and without much explanation I can assume that means as a "grey" morality - without definition, neither one side or the other, the conflict of which is his character's arc throughout BCS. Here, he's a killer, but he's deciding here to make fresh with his family and start over. Still, head-to-toe black. He's not shaken off the darkness that tails him, and underneath that jacket is a red wound.

Upstanding citizen Mike - grey parking attendant's uniform. Lighting ain't great here, but a better look;

Blue-grey uniform. Banal as it is, whilst Mike's working the parking booth, he's on the side of the law. It's miles away from the grey Mike wears later in the episode;

Throughout the episodes where Mike holds his daughter-in-law at arm's length, fools the police about his murder, colludes with Jimmy, and eventually reveals the painful truth about his dead son, Mike's light grey shirt has become a forbidding dark grey (grey + black). Hope to self-hatred. He's wearing dark blue pants (out of shot), again, he's talking with the cops and it's calling to Mike's background.

Later, Mike suits up in all-black to steal from the Kettlemans. No, it doesn't mean death here; he's hardly going to do covert business in anything else. All-black here is indicative of Mike's innate professionalism when he's outside of the legal world.

That being said;

He's a dark figure in the life of his daughter-in-law and granddaughter. Stacey knows Mike's past, but she hasn't fully accepted him into the family.

Head-to-toe black again when taking on some protection work for Daniel Wormald (and throat punches Mr X in the parking lot). I'm not going to read too much into the striped undershirt; these are civilian characters that have fairly limited wardrobes (except for Jimmy), and you'll see the same clothes on rotation. We saw Mike wearing yellow gloves before, the mildest version of the non-legal colours in the story, and I think there's an association with non-violent crime here; Mike taking a stake, Daniel's dealing, Jimmy's car (Daniel's also gullible and naive). Daniel's just getting into the criminal world, but, as we learn later, doesn't define himself as a criminal - Nacho's an ambitious career criminal, and his associations with Tuco have had him deal in violence. But only one of these people has ever killed anyone, and despite the other security guys in the parking lot and Nacho's posturing, Mike's the darkest one here.

[theaspiringwanderess]

*Check out our Maligne video link at the end of the post!

“So, is it a 14 footer..?” he asked me, inspecting my little canoe critically “No... it’s technically about 13, give or take” I replied. He side-eyed me with that “one raised eye brow” look. He totally expected me to say yes, thinking to himself that even 14 feet would still be too small a canoe in his opinion to navigate the longest natural lake in the Canadian Rockies. 

Christened ‘The Black Bunny’ this year (2021), albiet my little canoe is different compared to the large and very weighty crafts we often see. 

I admired our new acquaintances’ canoes; I researched so many before getting my own. An aluminum gruman, a gorgeous custom wood model shipped from Ontario, and multiple other 16-17 footers. I knew my little canoe wasn’t as fast, or couldn’t hold as much weight, but she's done us well, carried our gear and kept us safe, and is well suited to our particular needs. I couldnt imagine portaging out of our Murtle Lake situation with anything heavier plus our gear. As two women paddling out into adventure, I smirk just a little each time someone asks about my canoe, because I know the canoe is not the only thing they are questioning, and I think quietly to myself, hey man... you’re out here too. 

The Most Wild Of Wild Places, Maligne Lake

Maligne Lake is one of the premier and most sought after backcountry experiences in Canada. Nestled between the Colin and Maligne Mountain Ranges, about 45 minutes south of the quaint Alberta town of Jasper, Maligne is world renowned for its stunning aqua-coloured waters, scenery and wildlife. The famous Spirit Island, the historic Maligne Lake Resort, the Skyline Trail, Medicine Lake, Mount Brazeau and Brazeau lake just beyond, all are found here. When you first walk out onto the dock and lay your eyes on the scene before you, aw-struck is the only term that comes to mind. The first few rays of brisk morning sunbeams part curtains of mist and cloud above the peaks that tower over turquoise water, sun sparkling showers and dew-jewelled trees. It is no wonder this is called the Valley of the Gods. 

It’s a striking name, Valley of the Gods. One that conjures up images of ancient tribes, explorers, a time when humans revered nature and marvelled at its majesty and ferocity. The name was actually bestowed by the area’s indigenous tribes because the mountains on either side of the lake are believed to be a physical representation of their ancestors. When contemplating on spirit island, the members of the tribe are in the presence of greatness, wisdom and family.

Maligne Lake is fed and drained by the The Maligne River having received its name for its treacherous northward, outflowing exit from the lake. The story goes that every horse Father Pierre-Jean De Smet (1801–1873) attempted to herd across, sadly, met a watery end. The priest hence forth referred to it as ‘the wicked or malicious river’ which in his native french tongue was Maligne.  The river winds 45 km north and bubbles up in the magnificent, and equally treacherous, Maligne Canyon, full of twists, turns, steep drops and thundering falls. Popularity and dangerous natural formations have led to a history of accidents in the general area with spikes through covid. In 2020 an 11 year old girl fell into river at the 5th bridge in the canyon hike and tragically perished. In Feb. 2021 a 70 year old man succumbed to a similar fate after falling while ice climbing and later that summer a 21 year old nursing student fell in the river and luckily was rescued. On my own hike in Maligne Canyon in 2020 we saw a young man recklessly doing yoga on a fallen tree over the gushing water. Whether its the popularity of the location, the thrilling risk, or the draw of the dangerously beautiful, the area has a way of tempting those who are naive to its perils.

Despite the reputation, when safety measures are followed properly, the river and canyon are a sight not to be missed while you’re in the area. 

While at Maligne Lake you might also see a range of wildlife such as grouse, moose, deer, elk, wolves, cougars, various bird species, including Osprey, and even black or grizzly bears. We also managed to spot rarely seen pika. Caribou, while high up on most wish lists, sadly, are extremely rare being nearly extirpated from Jasper National Park (due primarily to human activities), however a lesser known hot topic phenomena of Maligne lake is its trout. The trout, not being indigenous, were introduced by people several years ago, and have since sparked heated wildlife debates between parks services and locals. This unique/rare situation means that Maligne Lake is the only fishable lake in the Jasper area and a favourite spot for locals, particularly in late September before the fishing season closes. While you are not likely to pull any record-holders out of Maligne due to the harsh living conditions, it does make for an extremely secluded wilderness fishing experience.

Accessing Maligne Lake

Maligne Lake is located in Jasper National Park in Alberta, Canada. If you are staying overnight in the park, including the town of Jasper, you must purchase a Park Pass. Passes can be purchased at the toll booth entering the park, or online in advance.

Overnight, you can stay at one of the many hotels in the town of Jasper, at the Maligne Park Lodge or a local campground. There are no campgrounds around the Maligne Lake resort/dock area. All options are popular and book up quickly. 

Maligne Lake is accessible only by Maligne Lake Road; a two lane, long and winding, scenic route that branches off highway 16 just east of the town of Jasper. It is open spring to fall, weather permitting. There is often moose and bears around the southern tip of Medicine Lake, traffic may back up as onlookers admire them. Remain in your car and pass with caution. Never feed wildlife. Animals that are too comfortable with humans pose safety risks and are often relocated or even killed. Keep them wild, keep them (and you) safe.

Arriving at Maligne Lake, past the resort, you will come to a large Parks Canada parking lot with outhouses (there is no location here to camp). Parking in the lot is free, there is a large dock and boat launch from which to launch your canoe and head off to your planned/booked backcountry campsite. 

*Note: It is illegal to ‘camp’ in Jasper National Park while not in a designated camp site. This includes sleeping in your car. 

Planning And Booking  

Both front and backcountry campsites in Jasper are booked through the Parks Canada website or by phone and, if needed, canoes can be rented through Wild Current Outfitters on the Jasper Travel website here. These canoes are located on Maligne Lake, (so no towing or loading required). 

Website Booking

Parks Canada has a NEW website in 2023! Reservation Service opens each year early spring. While Maligne Lake’s campsites and surrounding trails book up quickly, you might still find availability later in the year if there are cancellations. 

Log into the Parks Canada Reservation site the day before opening day to create your GC Key account for the park and test out the reservation system so you know how it works. 

Be prepared reservation opening day with time to spare (consider blocking off the day). 

Sign into the website waiting queue early.

Have your credit card and list of booking sites ready and a few backup dates in case you don’t get your preferred date. 

The website can be tricky opening day. With thousands of people on at the same time, it can be tough to nab your preferred dates. It really turns up the pressure. 

Campsites & Daily Distances

The three backcountry campsites on Maligne Lake in order from North to South are, Hidden Cove, Fisherman’s Bay and Coronet Creek. The four picnic/fish cleaning stations are, Trapper’s Creek, 4 Mile, Samson and Spindly Creek. Each campsite can be booked for a maximum of *2 nights each (then you go to the next). 

It can be tough to decide how to choose a site and how far to travel in a day. This should be decided first on your experience level, second the time of year (anticipating weather). 

Recommendations

Although we did the full length of the lake in one day, its not something I’d necessarily advise for a few reasons. Maligne Lake is really long, 22 km, and that makes for (surprise!) a long, exhausting day. If the weather isn’t good, if the wind whips up, you’re battling the elements on a whole other level. On a lake this size, even a little wind gathers momentum, making large waves and we did experience challenges that I’ll get into later. Reservations account only for enough space for people who have made them. If you can’t make it to your reserved campsite there may not be space at another (and of course legalities/penalties). 

If you are experienced, aim for Fishermans day one and then continue to Coronet. Take your time, enjoy the scenery along the way! 

If you are new to canoeing, consider Hidden Cover to start, the shelter with its wood stove is amazing. Fishermans is also a worthy goal if you’re up for the challenge.

If you decide to go for gold all the way to Coronet, we can’t say we haven’t done it, but be prepared, don’t take unnecessary risks, pull over for a break if needed. The weather often changes on a dime up here, start at the earliest light possible so you have lots of time... and read on for insights! 

Would You Paddle The Whole Lake In One Day ...?

Paddling the full length of Maligne (22km) in one day was admittedly NOT what I set out to plan for us. Its a super popular spot, booking is usually crazy, but booking during covid (2021) was beyond and long story short, we either had to do it or wait another year, so we went for it. Although breathtaking, I need to emphasize that it was challenging for a few reasons:

1. Weather: The weather in late September in the Canadian Rockies is extremely unpredictable. It was fun, we felt very accomplished, but at times it was a very rough go. While sunny, it was cold, very windy and both rained AND snowed. This can happen in summer months too, not just fall.

2. Daylight: Our days were very short by late September. If you have longer daylight hours, maybe June/July/August, you would have time on your side .

3. National Park Regulations: I dare say in an emergency any authority would tell you its better to be safe and hole-up somewhere, say, if the waves got too high, a storm swept up, etc, than risk danger. Im sure anyone would rather be conducting a rescue vs a recovery mission. However, in any Canadian National Park, legally, you are required to camp where you booked a registered camp location. So it’s on you to weigh the risk appropriately vs your skill level.

This being said, Krista and I had paddled the full length of Murtle Lake the year before in good and bad weather (23km). So we felt well equipped to understand what we were up against. Maligne is a different beast though and did surprise us with a few curve balls.

Get To The Story -  Bright And Early... And Wind, Oh My!

We left Edmonton Saturday morning, arrived early and decided to kill time checking out the canoe launch and hiking the Skyline a few kilometers shy of Little Shovel. The lakes and scenery on this end of the Skyline Trail are stunning. Heading back a female deer popped out of the trail behind us and wandered past. She would be the first of many amazing wildlife adventures to come. 

The wind woke us early Sunday morning, whistling through the trees... I lay in the dark for a few minutes, acknowledging the great SWOOSH and the subsequent creaking and groaning. At 5 am I already knew it would be a challenging day of paddling. 

We arrived back at the boat launch while it was still dark, wanting to start as soon as possible. Early morning is usually the calmest time on the water, but the brisk autumn dawn greeted us with growing waves as if to say, “are you up for challenge?”. Krista hopped in the canoe and I handed her our bags. 

‘You ready for this...?” I asked,  “Yep!” she replied, enthusiastic as always. 

At 9:30 am we pushed off the dock, heading straight into the wind, and on our way. 

What To Expect 

The water is deep, cold and clear; you can see massive rocks below on a sunny day. The tour boats rotate by regularly, but you have lots of clearance from them in this section. Once past ‘home bay’, facing a headwind, it only took us about an hour to reach Hidden Cove. You can only enter on the north side of the island, the beach to the south is consumed with extremely sharp rocks as we discovered later on. You cannot cross the shallow waterway between the island and the shore in a canoe. We didn’t stop on our way in, but our last night/day would be spent in this amazing spot. 

A recent suggestion to prepare a playlist of ‘magical and epic’ adventure songs made the day. We usually prefer the natural setting, don’t want to annoy others... aware of your surroundings (blah, blah, blah...). But! This was FUN! Paddling a whole day gets monotonous, the music added rhythm to coordinate to - pirate songs, viking songs, Lord of the Rings themes; we felt like we were on the high seas in search of treasure, the giant waves from the passing tour boats didn’t help, lol. (we turned it down approaching others - considerate Canadians and all).

The sun greeted us around noon as we made our way along the ‘belly’ of the lake. The wind/waves died down and we made great time. We kept a map handy and were able to easily track our progress here using the streams and well marked fishing day-use areas. We passed Trapper Creek and 4 Mile and by 1:30pm had made it to Samson Narrows. 

Near Death Flashbacks... Remember That Time We Nearly Died? Which Time? The Actual Time. 

At the mouth of Samson Narrows, suddenly and without warning, the canoe began to spin... for a split second we had flashbacks to the Murtle River incident the year before. We couldn’t correct it and couldn’t stop it. What the EFF’in - SH*T... NOT us... NOT again - ?!

“Are we in a river?!” Krista yelled back at me; she was scared, I could hear it in her voice...  “There aren’t supposed to be any outflowing rivers here!” I had to yell over the wind now, even though she was right in front of me.  “Then what’s happening?!”, her panic was rising... my panic was rising, but we had to stay cool. It was imperative. 

... The WIND! It came over the mountain and down with such ferocity and speed there was no time to react. NONE.

It blew the tail end of our tiny canoe with such force that even as we both paddled, it spun the canoe immediately, illogically, around. Now sideways as waves crashed against us, and needing a better plan, I instructed Krista to stop fighting it. Go with the wind, its counter intuitive in the moment, but it worked. We did an about face 360 and made a bee-line for the large island at the mouth of the narrows. 

Safely ashore, but still battling the frigid gale, we took the opportunity to calm our nerves, warm up, have lunch, consult our map and assess our situation. Confirmed for safe measure - not a river or an under current. Just a powerful wind. Shocked, but reassured, we hung out for about 20 minutes and it died down as quickly as it swept up. We carried the canoe around to a better launch point and set out once more. 

Samson Narrows

Once inside Samson Narrows the water is calm as glass. The surface area of water is much smaller and more protected from the wind. It is spectacular and amazing. The canoe glided across sun sparkled water like silk and we took turns snapping photos and videos of the serene scenery. The world, still and quiet, the sun warm on our faces, our paddles making soft bobbing noises as they dipped in and out of the water. It was magic.

The tour boat shattered the moment, getting a bit too close for comfort in the slender water way. As the mammoth waves rolled near, our tiny canoe bobbed up several feet and then down again, a scooner on the mighty ocean, as viking drums channeled our rhythm. We were the lake, and it was us.

Spirit Island

We arrived at Spirit Island around 2:30pm. All the water craft pile into the bay area behind the island.

When the tour boats land it gets very busy. Hang tight ‘til the tour boat throngs leave again, or consider going before/after the boats begin or end the day if you’re keen on taking tourist-free photos. The best location (IMO) is at the top platform, slightly to the left along the railing. 

Spirit island is special to the local Indigenous tribes and is considered a spiritual and sacred place (hence the name). It is considered so because of its location, in the Valley of the Gods, and it behooves one to tread consciously and with respect on this ancient ground that holds so much meaning. With mountains representing ancient ancestors on both sides, the tiny peninsula sits on the water and amongst spiritual greatness. 

Our time here was short, but we took every opportunity to drink in the beauty. The leaves shimmered, the water was calm, the light filtering through the clouds. A yellow canoe coming ashore against the azure water. A brief moment in time, picture perfect.

Just Around The Bend... I Might Kill You (With Love??)

Now several hours in, we were weary and it was beginning to show. There were more creeks in this area (marked and unmarked) making it difficult to track our progress. 

By 5:30pm Krista had her fill. As we passed a pair of unsuspecting fishermen with an electric motor and I said ‘we’re almost there, it’s just around this bend’ for the upteenth time, the look of daggers she gave me became the running joke around the fire we shared that night (thankfully; death by dagger gaze wasnt my preferred way to go!).

Coming down the home stretch between the un-named creek and Coronet, we hit another head wind. It was all we could do to keep paddling.

“Are we even moving??” Krista was gritting her teeth, this wind was on her last nerve...  We had to be, I thought, at least, I think we are... The only way we knew we were moving was because the shoreline was slowly getting closer.

Adding insult to injury, a mighty and gorgeous custom wood craft manned by a single soul, (who we later met as ‘Ziggy’), sliced the water to our left, leaving us in the dust. We just looked on in awe (and maybe jealousy). Later that evening we felt a bit better when the fishermen we’d passed earlier laughed about attempting to come back and tow us (out of gentlemanly kindness), but their battery died and they too limped to camp via paddle power (chivalry among Jasperites is not dead, but apparently batteries are - lol).

Finally landing at Coronet, I thought Krista might kiss the ground. We hopped out and wearily carried our little canoe ashore around 6pm, just as the last rays of sun were disappearing behind the looming mountain backdrop. 

“Thank God!”, she proclaimed... and I lived to see another day.

Coronet Creek, The Campsite Legends Are Made Of

If you can make it to Coronet, it IS the BEST campsite on Maligne Lake. A true backcountry experience, it is the farthest possible location, the most remote, spacious, and truly wild. We had the absolute pleasure of the company of a small group of locals making the most of the last weekend the lake was open for fishing and it 100% made our whole trip. 

Friendly, kind and considerate they shared their tarps, smartly erected above the picnic tables to give shelter from the autumn rains. By firelight we heard told exuberant tales of annual trips gone by, sharply ended by blizzards so thick you couldnt see your hands and wind ripping rainflys off tents in the night. A cautionary recount of a pair of fishermen out after dark whos canoe was sunk by a rogue wave. Forced to swim ashore in imobolizingly cold water, they walked several kilometers back to camp in the dark, soaking wet and without shoes (I cant even fathom how they didnt succumb to hypothermia, my feet were numb just walking in and out all day). But! Fret not, the canoe itself was later retrieved by local divers. 

Overall, Coronet was, undoubtedly, one of the best backcountry experiences I’ve had in large part due to the amazing company. If you're an avid fisherman, some of the locals offer guided fishing tours and we highly recommend checking it out.

The Cinderella Story Of Campsites

Our first morning in Coronet we were thrilled to just sleep in. On our way to the morning facilities we were delightfully greeted by Gary the Grouse and his lovely little harem of chickens, softly cooing and clicking as they pecked up their breakfast bugs. Despite some limited contact in summer, for the most part humans are almost alien to the area; animals around maligne are unmarred by people and unsure of what to think of us. 

Each campsite has a guest book in a small locker on the side of a tree. Campers can detail their stories, when they visited and the adorable nicknames for all the animals. For example, Buttons is the name of the deer. However, Buttons literally makes a guest appearance at every single campsite, and for a deer, Buttons sure gets around! (Every deer is Buttons, we do not discriminate between Buttons 1, 2, or 44,000 here). We skimmed through the book, enjoying our coffee and some laughs while the little grouse family toddled on by like something out of Cinderella.

Henry MacLeod Trail 

Later that afternoon we hiked up to Henry MacLeod Campsite. Located high up the mountain, it’s the only one near Maligne Lake that doesn’t require a booking to stay there. It’s exceptionally remote, but the scenery was worth it!

The trail is well marked and from Coronet it took us roughly 3 hours to get there and a little over 2 to get back. It leaves Coronet Campsite northward and follows the creek nearly all the way up the mountain. There are spectacular falls and just past the second lookout [over the falls], turn around for a stunning, high altitude view of the lake. We missed it the first time but caught it on the way back.

Reaching Henry MacLeod, you can continue up along the creek to the edge of the glacier. It was sleeting rain/ice and we didn’t linger long. Even though it’s mountainous, the ground is oddly thick and mossy, retaining a lot of water. Back at Coronet, we were surprised to find that despite waterproof boots, we had both soaked our footwear clean through.

As we sat, enjoying the warmth of the morning a fire and drying our soaked feet, an excited shout rang out from the dock.

“Quick! Come See!”

We sprang up and headed for the dock where the few remaining campers had gathered. Down the beach, running along the shoreline where the fisherman’s canoes were trolling, was a lanky, dark, grizzly bear. I grabbed for my camera but he was just far enough away that even my biggest lens couldn’t quite nab the shot. We sat and watched him until he disappeared into the forest once more.

We were cautioned that shortly before we’d arrived back, likely the same bear had cut through camp across to the beach we had been on. It would be the first of several bear encounters to come. 

That night we exchanged adventure stories and Ziggy (owner of the awe-inspiring wood canoe) and the locals, offered us their best hiking and boating suggestions, including Lake Minnewanka and Rockwall, that we took to heart and intend to make good on in 2022. We also heard tell that a pair of adventurers had canoed on Maligne this weekend with skiis in tow intending to hike up, and then race down, the glacier. But while we slept winds whipped up great waves, washing their canoe and gear out to the middle of the lake. Returning Sunday morning they [luckily] were able to enlist help to retrieve the canoe and what soaked items remained (I couldn’t possibly make this stuff up).

Tuesday Is A Good Day For Snow And Grizzlies 

The next morning we woke up to a chill in the air. Still in my mummy bag, I rolled over and looked at Krista, 

‘is it me or is it colder?” ‘it feels colder I think”, she groaned from deep in her sleeping bag. 

Overnight it had snowed. Lightly, white, frosty and breath taking. When we could eventually smell faint whiffs of smoke we ventured out, enticed by the promise of a hot coffee and a toasty fire. 

After the fishing canoes ventured out, we walked along the curve of the beach for a bit towards the quieter, north edge of the campsite, looking for other signs of wildlife in the early morning. Finding nothing and feeling a bit skunked we walked back to the canoe and went for a paddle around the bay area, which is much smaller than it appears to be. 

When we returned to the campsite, a local fisherman we had become familiar with said ‘did you ladies see the bear!?” 

‘the one last night?” we asked, a little confused. 

“NO”, his eyes now big as saucers. “I saw the bear coming up the beach this morning when you guys were walking along the shoreline! I tried to yell but you couldn’t hear me. He headed straight for you”

Dumbfounded... Krista and stared at each other. How could we MISS that?! The curve along the beach must’ve hidden him from view.

The man continued, “yep, he made it all the way to the campsite and about 20 feet from the dock, turned and walked into the bush. He probably cut right through camp”. 

The ground is so soft you can’t hear anything, it just muffles the sound. Even when the animal is hundreds of pounds, in most cases, you are completely oblivious.

We were unsure whether we should be thankful or terrified, settled on grateful and left it at that. Bears are amazing, majestic even... but from afar, and definitely not first thing in the morning, catching you off guard when coming at you. Like, the ‘to be admired from a really safe distance’- type afar is even better (is my preference). 

Another fascinating observation made by other campers, amidst all the bear activity, Gary the grouse and his little harem who had previously been so actively, were suddenly, noticeably, scarce, along with all birds and other small wildlife. Perhaps an early warning sign, had we recognized it.

Just One More Night..? 

We loved our time at Coronet Creek, but we had one more night booked at Hidden Cove and we were so looking forward to the fabled camp stove and shelter there. The paddle back was again long, the weather once more unkind. Only having reached Spindly Creek, waves forced us to break and wait for the blustery winds to subside. We met a quiet fellow taking refuge in the form of a nap here and even though we unintentionally disturbed him, he kindly made a little fire for us to warm up by and in turn we shared a snack. A tree planter, he was visiting the lake to clear his head and contemplate his next year’s plans. We admired his canoe’s electric motor running on a solar panel setup. 

Another couple from Coronet arrived also, facing the same predicament. The tree planter bid us adieu and moseyed on. We followed suite and set out once more. 

The wind haunted us mercilessly and in the distance we could see dark storm clouds brewing over the mountain. Presumably snow, we were mildly concerned if we’d make it to Hidden Cove in time, luckily sliding into home base just as the storm held its ground over the resort and not an inch closer. 

Hidden Cove, A Gem Among the Rockies 

Hidden Cove is a stunning campsite. Designed more for family use and trips with children, it has a fantastic, fully enclosed, day-use shelter complete with a wood stove. There is an axe for chopping firewood, (though it’s extremely dull), and a few excellent tent pads with AMAZING views! The campsite is situated on a tiny island. In spring I imagine the water completely cuts it off from the shore, but in late fall the water is low enough that you can rock hop across.

The tent pads are laced through the island, some overlooking the south view of the lake and others facing more inward towards the shelter of the cove. There are some little paths to explore and a nice dock to sit on and enjoy the sunset. 

Cold and tired, we immediately stoked a fire, set up our tent and hunkered down to enjoy a well deserved, hot, dinner. A couple of love-birds on a kayak date arrived shortly after and we graciously shared the shelter till the later hours, playing trivia cards and exchanging hiking stories over the stove fire. 

*For a complete view of the cabin, check out the video at the end of the post.

Homeward Bound, As Always, Too Soon

We woke the next morning and the kayak couple had gone, leaving us to our own devices. We enjoyed coffee in the shelter and spent the morning wandering the paths around the shoreline from the cabin. In a rocky outcropping we had the amazing luck of seeing some adorable pika (a highlight for me!). We didnt meander long, being very aware of the high bear activity in the area lately and around 11:30am we shoved the canoe off once more, heading for home bay. 

Along the way we once again came across Ziggy and his magnificent wooden beast, also making his way towards the resort. We chatted a bit along the way and caught up with him later back at the parking lot to say goodbye and wish him safe travels. The trip had been epic, wild and demanding. But amazing. There is nothing like the feeling of accomplishing something that challenges you, and challenge us Maligne did.

The canoe packed up and the suv ready to go, I turned to Krista; 

“Well, was it everything you thought it’d be...?” “100%” she said, a little smile creeping in

Yep, I thought to myself, it definitely was 100%

Author, Katryna Jones, Sept 2021

Click here for our Maligne Lake Video! 

[bun8un]

[A simple abandoned house visit.]

I wrote this originally for AO3! If you wanna see more of this, please check out my small character story collection [Peaks at a world]

The house was two stories tall, technically three since there’s a small tower too. It only took Vivi a minute to unlock the door, they were both a little impatient when it finally opened though neither was prepared for what they found. Blood, a fucking blood bath.

The massacre that took place is so clear from the bullet holes in not only the walls and floor but also in the clothes that the skeletons still wore, almost unaffected by time save for the blood that’s been left there for so long that it’s dyed into the scenery. “I’m gonna throw up.” Picasso cut off the dreadful silence. “I’m, honestly glad we didn’t tell Oi and Colossus, oh this alone would make her scream.” Vivi adds as they make their way through what once was a home and base. “Yo, check it! That must have been the boss. Or, at least the second in command.” Picasso says, pointing to a painting. The man featured in it was a unit, tall and imposing, an eye missing, the scar in its place makes it look like it was ripped out of his eye socket painfully. His large blue jacket has a black fur collar giving him an almost tyrannical look if it wasn’t for how gently he holds and looks at the little girl that’s also in the picture. She has the same black hair as the man, the same brown eyes. If he was a tyrant then she would be an innocent princess, her dress even fit this image despite it being in the Midas Ember colours. “Wait… I, think.. I think that Oi. The hair and eyes looks just like her.” Picasso points out, the two stopping for a moment to look at itz “… She must have been loved, no kid has a smile like that without meaning it.” Vivi says softly, smiling sadly at the life that’s lost before the two moves on. As they get deeper into the home, the more bodies turn up, not all the same gang colours but all stained in blood nonetheless. “You know, this makes the poppies outside feel like a warning for this place.” Picasso tries to joke, only to stop when he sees the corpse of two young men, neither of them are dressed in any gang colours. “… Her brothers.” Vivi answers the silent question, “… Fuck, she really was the only survivor.” They pressed onwards soon after, Vivi making the mental note to leave them flowers, letting the innocent be mourned. They ended up following the bloody foot prints that they found when first entering the house. It only made one round around the place, and it seems to have been to the tower and then back out. The stairs up to the towers room wasn’t bad, but the atmosphere that exploring this place has given them since they entered was killing both of them like poison at this point. The door was already open when they reached the top, the realization of not only the room’s purpose but also why Aoi survived hit them immediately, like a truck driving over a watermelon.

It was a child’s bedroom, simple soft pastel colours that's not faded with time, the bed propped up high enough that there could be a safe underside. The safe was open, empty of contents save for a pillow and blanket. Vivi had to lean against one of the blooded walls to collect herself, Picasso let her as he silently went into the room, noting how the only sign that life was ever in the room being from the carpet, small footprints of not blood but blue paint. The bloody footprints stops just by it. “The person went in, picked her up and left.” Picasso mumbled the obvious to himself, it was the only way to stop his mind from thinking that the person went in, saw no one to kill and left.

[pockyandme]

stupid feelings | l.hyunjae

synopsis: spending new years’ with your childhood friend but you made a mistake of falling in love with him.

pairing: tbz’s hyunjae x reader

genre: unrequited love, slight fluff, angst

wc: 1.5k

warning: profanities, hyunjae is a little rude here

network: @kflixnet

leona was listening to: inner child by satica

not proofread

“c’mon, let’s go to the rooftop!” hyunjae hurriedly said, pulling you along with him up the stairs, “there’s only a minute left!” you didn’t say anything more since all you could focus on was his gentle touch against your wrist. you honestly don’t know when you started having such feelings for the man in front of you, maybe it was the initial tension between you two or maybe it was the undeniable chemistry you two had.

as soon as you step foot onto the huge rooftop garden, you could hear fireworks popping but no sight to see. a hum of confusion spiralled out of the both of you as you guys thought you could see the fireworks from the mall’s rooftop.

“oh! y/n, behind us!” he was beyond excited to see the fireworks, pointing to the scenery behind you guys. spinning around, you were met face to face with different vibrant colours of the fireworks shooting into the night sky. a clear view presented itself from the high level.

you were in awe as you ran to the railings, getting as close as you could to see them. the atmosphere turned quiet as the two of you observed the show, just living in the moment. your arms rested against the metal railings, mouth agape as you took in the scene silently.

you barely realised that hyunjae hadn’t been beside you since you stepped towards the edge. as you turned around to check on him, you caught him taking pictures of you as multiple fireworks went off behind you.

“ah, what are you doing?” you chuckled, posing jokingly as hyunjae continued to snap photos of you, the sound of the camera shuttering multiple times. “taking pictures of a nice sight, duh,” he replied, a wide grin plastered on his face as he made his way towards you, finally stopping his mini photoshoot.

“fine, then you stand there now, i’ll take pictures of you,” you were about to move away from him so you could take solo shots of him but he only pulled you closer, “it’s okay, we can take it together.”

he didn’t give you time to object before he wrapped his arm around your shoulder before planting a kiss on your cheek, taking a selfie with you, purple fireworks shot upwards, erupting into loud noise. you merely had time to react so when he took the picture, you were looking at him, eyes widened at the action he did.

“delete that picture! i wasn’t ready!” you shouted, reaching for his phone. “no! you look cute, don’t worry,” he retaliated, staring at the picture. “what are you saying,” you stuttered as you processed what he just casually said.

“shh, you talk too much, just look at the view,” he placed his index finger on your lips, the cold sensation of his ring grazing against your lips as he spun you back around to look at the fireworks.

you tried, you really did try to pay attention to the fireworks but his loose grip that shifted to your waist made you wish there was something more to this friendship, relationship even. you honestly didn’t know whether hyunjae knew about your feelings and chose to ignore it or he actually was oblivious to the fact that you were head over heels with him.

you weren’t entirely lying when you said you didn’t know why and how you came to liking your childhood best friend but you could guess around when you started to.

maybe it was when he stood up to those girls who bullied you for dancing online, saying they were just jealous of you even though you knew you looked like a worm or maybe it was when he invited you to the waterpark even when his best guy friend was available on that day. perhaps it was the fact that he never changed despite gaining popularity during high school, even though you did think he was going to be just like those assholes in movies. you were glad he didn’t.

even so, could he like you back? it would completely ruin the dynamics of the friendship that has been lasting for 16 years since you guys were 8. it might be for the best if you just pushed those stupid feelings down and never speak of them again.

you nodded to your own thoughts and was about to pull away his hand from your waist when soft pattering of the rain immediately changed into pouring, heavy rain. “shit, y/n, we gotta go,” hyunjae muttered, clasping your hand, pulling you through the rooftop. it was a bad idea to wear white shoes since the muddy grass dirtied them but you don’t think you could’ve changed hyunjae’s mind in dragging you along with him.

it was funny wasn’t it, spending new years with your best friend, running in the rain together, yet all the two of you were friends. just friends.

you guys finally made it to the stairwell and trying not to trip down the stairs was a challenge. the two of you only stopped when you found a seat in a cafe in the building itself.

“well, that was eventful,” you sighed, ruffling your hair back. “sure was..” he replied, taking in deep breaths. as soon as he caught his breath he started again, “oh, yeah! remember the girl from my university? the one working part time at the gym i always go to?”

“um.. no? i don’t think i’ve heard of her?” your brows couldn’t help but to furrow at the mention of a new girl in his life. “oh, then i must’ve just told juyeon, anyways! i met her two weeks ago, she’s super cute and exactly my type, so i mustered up the courage to ask her out on a date and apparently she had been eyeing me too,” he spoke excitedly, wiggling his eyebrows.

yea, as if you were going to be so happy with the news. you had been doing such a great job holding it in but this, this was it.

“hyunjae, then why would you kiss my cheek? and call me what? call me cute? what the fuck is wrong with you, you can’t be playing with peoples’ feelings like that, i don’t know if you’re doing this on purpose or if you are just plain dumb but it really hurts. my heart is not something you can mess around with, it’s not a toy and i will not allow it to be played with. i truly don’t know your intentions but you’re a dick,” you couldn’t control what was coming out of your mouth, it felt like water was just seeping out, all gates broke loose.

“i know you’re popular and i know you wouldn’t have left me for those more superior than me but i’d rather that happen than you stringing me along,” tears brimmed your eyes as you ranted. you were thankful for an almost empty cafe.

at first, hyunjae was at a loss for words. he couldn’t say anything, what would you even say to that? it felt relieving calling him out but as soon as you heard his next words, you wished you had never even opened your mouth at all.

“are you actually serious? that’s literally what close friends do and if you can’t respect my small actions then what are we doing together, still as friends? i can’t believe you make me the bad guy when you’re the one being selfish for thinking the whole world revolves around you, it’s been nice having you as my friend, i thought you knew me, guess not. i’ll see you around.” he stormed off despite your rushed callings.

“wait!” you stood up but he walked away too fast for you to even utter another syllable. you drop into the once comfy armchair, placing your head into your hands. the utter rejection and humiliation was indescribable beyond words. this wouldn’t happen if it weren’t for your stupid feelings. you ruined the friendship, it was all your fault. you knew better than to lash out at him, you knew he could never harbour romantic feelings for you but the bitter ending got to you. stupid feelings.

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might be based on true events.. anyways, sorry this was really rushed since i wrote this in class on like 5% battery and also wanted to get something out on my birthday (two days ago oops), might delete bc i hate the ending, i'll figure out a better one! sorry!

love, leona

[oiiimakeu]

rendezvous and courtship

— wayv ver.

𝗸𝘂𝗻

*ੈ kun loves to take you up to the sky as you admire in awe the beautiful scenery below you.

*ੈ he'd pilot his plane for you and you'd be his assistant. he taught you a few flight tems and protocols and he could never pilot a plane without you by his side, he literally can't.

*ੈ kun was peacefully piloting as you stare your hot and masculine boyfriend driving an actual plane.

*ੈ your thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a loud beeping red light and he tried his best not to panic in front of you.

*ੈ kun told you to check every radio frequency to ask for an emergency landing but all you heard was the static through your headphones.

*ੈ he told you the second and last resort which is to mechanically do the emergency landing.

*ੈ you read the three step intrustions out loud, "make sure both pilots are ready for the engament." you read in between sobs and panic.

*ੈ "know that the pilot loves you very much no matter what." you looked at kun and proceeded to cry, doubting if it's actually the landing instructions or a goodbye letter.

*ੈ as you read the last bullet, that's when it all made sense, "grab the small box bellow your seat and open it."

*ੈ you opened the box, thinking it it was some sort of tool, but it was an engagement ring!

*ੈ you slapped kun's arm from making think that you were about to die, but he jus laghed at you.

*ੈ "so? what do you think? are you ready to pilot our lives together?"

𝘁𝗲𝗻

*ੈ ten took you to his backyard and from one art major to another, you took turns painting eachother's canvas; every five minutes you'd switch.

*ੈ you'd paint something symbolic that reminded you of eachother and you'd gradually add paint to fill in his work.

*ੈ it was an exciting couple activity—none of you knew what eachother meant by the painting but you'd just continue what he started.

*ੈ a few hours has passed and both of your canvas were already filled with various colours.

*ੈ when it was time to interpret eachother's painting, you had a hard time to understand what ten meant by his—his canvas was literally filled with scribbles and somewhat formed in an abstract art.

*ੈ you stared at his frame for a while till he gave you a hint, "look at it from a far." so you did.

*ੈ the painting that you once thought was abstract actually formed a figure, a figure of him kneeling down and putting a ring on your finger.

*ੈ "your colours caught my eye and you are art. our world is like an unfinished painting, gradually being filled in with colours, colours of love and memories and i can't wait to see our finished masterpiece. will you paint our world with me, y/n?"

𝘄𝗶𝗻𝘄𝗶𝗻

*ੈ you were about to go to bed till winwin jumped on you and begged you to have a late night walk at the snow.

*ੈ he made aegyos and hugged your arm till you finally agreed with him.

*ੈ you were both on your pajamas and you wore matching padded coats.

*ੈ you'd act like children—playfully chase eachother, toss some snow balls, slide on the slippery road, and build a cute little snow man.

*ੈ you'd lie down in he midde of the road and hold hands while making a snow angle.

*ੈ winwin would draw a huge heart on the snow and write both of your names in it.

*ੈ he asked you to raise up your hand till a snow flake lands on your palm, "see this snowflake, y/n? each falling snowflake has it's own unique and beautiful pattern."

*ੈ he asked you to stick out your hand once again, but this time he didn't tell you to catch a snowflake. he put a ring on your palm engraved with a snowflake pattern on it.

*ੈ "i've fallen for your beauty and uniqueness, you are my snowflake, y/n. will you marry me?"

𝗹𝘂𝗰𝗮𝘀

*ੈ you sat beside your boyfriend—the live button was clicked and you were finallly streaming on vlive.

*ੈ lucas nervously greated the viewers and his manager raised the script behind the camera.

*ੈ he was about announce your relationship, "hi everyone! we are live here today to relay a special announcement to my dear fans, this is y/n, my girlfriend for almost two years now."

*ੈ he caressed your lap under the camera as you read your line behind the script, "hi eyeryone! nice to finally meet you all, i hope you take care of me!"

*ੈ you began to look at your phone and smiled at the welcoming comments the fans left for you.

*ੈ lucas read a bunch of comments and answered a few of it. there were also some questions for you and you also read and answered some of it.

*ੈ the manager signaled his hands to wrap things up as he raised the script for the ending remarks.

*ੈ you both looked at eachother to read you lines, but lucas interrupted you which caught everyone's attention, especially the staffs'.

*ੈ lucas let out an engament ring from his side pocket and everyone wide-eyed gasped. the comments were blowing up and you couldn't help but cover your rosey cheeks ands watery eyes.

*ੈ "we've been dating for quite some time now and i can't wait any longer. we have nothing to hide anymore and i'm ready to face the world with you and show everyone how much i really love you. will you marry me, y/n."

𝘅𝗶𝗮𝗼𝗷𝘂𝗻

*ੈ xiaojun surprised you to a 3 day camping at the beach.

*ੈ due to both of your busy schedule, you never had him for that long and you were definitely making it worth your time.

*ੈ he took you island hopping and cliff diving. you rowed a little boat together and explored the fish and pretty corals.

*ੈ the both of you would chase eachother by the sandy shore and pick pretty rocks and shells.

*ੈ you'd eventually just lay down on the sand, appreciate every moment with xiaojun.

*ੈ xiaojun waited for the sun to set and kiss the water as he pointed out the night sky above you.

*ੈ you stargazed under the moonlight and the both of you would point on the starts and form silly shapes and figures.

*ੈ he eventually hugged you to sleep as you both spooned eachother by the water.

*ੈ xiaojun woke you up to a beautiful sunrise as he prepared breakfast in front of you camping tent.

*ੈ you sat and ate together as you watch the sky form pretty hues of crimson and mustard.

*ੈ as you finished the dish he prepared for you, xiaojun gave you an annklet with all the stones and shells you've collected.

*ੈ "just like the deep as the sea and and wide sky, my love for you will always be infinite and boundless. will you marry me, y/n?"

𝗵𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘆

*ੈ hendery brought you to their concert and you fangirled and screamed your lungs out as if you've never met the men on the satge.

*ੈ you memorized every lyric and fan chant and hendery would cutely grin at you as he perform for you and see you enjoy the show.

*ੈ after a few songs, they went on a 10 minute break for a wardrobe change. you waved your vip pass to the guards and ran to hendery to give him a hug.

*ੈ you continued to baby hendery—wipe his sweat and give him some water and snacks. the rest of the boys would just make fun of him being taken care by his girlfriend.

*ੈ they show continued and when it was near the end, they each had a chance to talk and greet the crowd.

*ੈ when it was your boyfriend's time to talk, you fet your heart flutter as you hear his voice through the huge speakers.

*ੈ "i have an announcement to make," the whole crowd gasped including you, "to the beautiful and wonderful woman right there," the spotlight suddenly beamed on you as the security guards helped you up on stage.

*ੈ you stood beside him in front of the whole crowd, curious about what he was going to say.

*ੈ you were busy being amused by the number of people before you, you didn't expect hendery to sit on one knee. everyone, including the members, cheered as they anticipated what was about to happen next.

*ੈ "to my girl and number one fan who always supported me and gave love i never deserve, will you marry me?"

𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘆𝗮𝗻𝗴

*ੈ yangyang found out that you've never been to an amusement park, so he immediately cleared his schedule and dedicated a whole day for you.

*ੈ he walked you through the park and bought matching headbands.

*ੈ he treated you some churros, pretzels, cotton candy, and some snow cones—it felt like you snacked the whole day.

*ੈ he hesitated to get on the scary rides but seeing how excited you were, he wholeheartedly rode the rides with you.

*ੈ yangyang also played the minigames and carnival games just so you'll end up bringing home a large teddy bear.

*ੈ by night, there was a cute parade and watershow. he wrapped his arms around your shoulder and intently enjoyed the moment as a couple.

*ੈ before he brought you home, he took you to the ferris wheel to enjoy the city's night sky. you were so amazed since you've never seen the city so high up.

*ੈ you thought that nothing could get better than the view...till yangyang grabbed a ring from his pocket.

*ੈ "i've always enjoyed being around you and an hour, a day, a month, or even years isn't enough to make up the time to spend with you. i love you, y/n, and will you take my hand in marriage to spend the rest of the time with me for eternity."

— hiii everyone ^^ you can find me on instagram for more nct imagines~ <3

[dyhayc]

Dream Or Reality?

Pairing: Din Djarin x gn!Reader (Fluff)

Summary: You accidentally fall asleep while waiting for the mandalorian to return

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: None

A/N: I just noticed that I have 150 followers! Thank you so much for the support, I really appreciate it! I know this oneshot isn’t ST related, like most of you followed me for, but I wanted to take a little break from Eddie content so I don’t get burned out or anything.

I reread some of my old ideas and decided to write something for Mando. This is technically a prequel to a different oneshot (which is why there are hints at a deeper plot), but I never finished it. Maybe I’ll write the rest sometime later, I really love the concept so I think it will be fun!

Btw, I usually check my stuff with grammarly after proofreading, but this time I only proofread it. Hopefully it’s not too bad lol

Masterlist

It’s dark. Too dark. You’ve been sitting for hours in the pitch-black of the cargo hold, staring emptily at the small blinking red, green, and blue lights of the control panels. Your vision is blurring, the colours are melding into one. How long have you been sitting here? How long has it been since the sun has set? How long has he been late? He’s never lied, at least not to you, why would he lie about when he’d come back? He’d commed you earlier; you remember his words exactly.

“I’ll be back before nightfall.”

Simple, precise, concise. He always says so little, but there’s no reason to fluff your conversations. An employer and an employee. You get enough information to do your job, anything else is a bonus, a treat. Like when he’d complimented your knot-tying skills. Something small and unforgettable to someone else, yet something that you had held onto for weeks. You’re so used to having nothing that you scarf down small scraps of attention like they’re your last meal.

Waiting for him to come back is never easy, so many things can go wrong on a job. He’s the best, you know he’s the best. He’s heavily armed, he’s vigilant, he’s quick, he’s adept, he’s capable. You could list hundreds of things he is, but it does little to quell the fear that lingers in your gut. Because, above all things, he is human. He can be hurt, or surprised, or overpowered, or tricked.

You’ve already been on edge. In your eight months of work, this is the longest hunt you’ve ever experienced. Typically, you’d stay on a planet for a few days, sometimes a week if the bounty is especially elusive, but you’ve been here for three weeks. There’s an unsettling feeling that you can’t escape; old, buried memories that scream at you to heed their warning: staying in one place too long is dangerous, fatal. You’d learned that lesson as a child.

The child. A part of your job you weren’t expecting. When you joined, there was no baby, just you and he. He’s lucky you’re comfortable caring for an infant, especially one who has decided to rebel. It seems the same scenery and lack of the mandalorian has angered the small boy. His frustrations manifest in temper tantrums, refusal to eat, throwing small items with his ability, and more. He’s even bit your finger on a few occasions.

You’ve tried your best, truly, but you aren’t his father. You can’t compare. The best you can do is let the child listen to his voice when he calls, occasionally allowing him to babble into your mic as if they’re having a conversation. These moments are small, yet, again, you clutch onto them as if they’re precious, invaluable. These moments are so intimate, it feels like you’re a family. These kinds of thoughts are always pushed into the deepest depths of your mind. You’re an employee, he’s your employer. There are more important things to do than fawn over a man.

Important things, such as the changes you’ve made to the Razor Crest. Cargo has been rearranged to save fuel and allow the ship to fly faster, wires have been detangled and redone to increase electricity efficiency, damaged panels on the outside have been replaced to make the ship more aerodynamic. You will admit, it was nice to be able to make changes without him silently watching, presumably judging you behind the cover of the helmet.

It was the end of the first week when you’d started to feel lonely. By the end of the second week you’d run out of things to do, repeating the same tasks over and over again just to feel like you were contributing something. At the end of the third week, you’d give anything to have the mandalorian silently watch you from afar, even if it turned out he was judging you from behind the helmet.

Early on, you’d learned that it isn’t the things he says that matter, but rather the things he does. He could call the child a womp rat all day, but those words are meaningless when he holds the boy up like he’s the most precious star in the sky. He can make teasing comments about your strict organization, but you see the appreciation when he stands in the cargo hold, subconsciously nodding his head as he surveys the work you’ve done for the day.

Over the months, you’ve gotten better at reading his body language. You lie to yourself that it’s out of necessity, that you need to understand his intent to be able to work under him, but you know deep down that you have such an in-depth understanding because of how much you watch him. You’re not sure if he’s noticed or not. He’d be blind not to see it, but he hasn’t said anything to you about your embarrassing habits.

All of this internal turmoil because of a crush. A juvenile, stupid, ridiculous crush. You feel terribly about your emotions. It’s so far from professional, which is what you both are. An employer and an employee, not friends, not lovers. There’s no room for love or living. Both of you have dedicated yourselves to the hunt, there’s no turning back.

Yet, here you are. Staring at small blinking lights in the dark, struggling to keep your eyes open so you can see him arrive, so you can see if he’s alive, if he’s hurt. Forcing your head to turn, you check on the baby. He’s sleeping soundly in his hammock. Maker, you wish it could be you. You’re too cold, too uncomfortable, and too worried for the safety of your companion to sleep.

Gripping the edges of your blanket, you pull it tighter around your shoulders, sinking into the soft fabric. Falling asleep has always been difficult for you, but it’s even harder when you’re covered in the itchy old scraps of cloth the mandalorian calls blankets. You’d spent a good sum of credits on your blanket, but it had been well worth the price. The warmth from your body is trapped inside the cocoon you’ve created, and you can feel yourself nodding off. You’re trapped in an odd limbo, not fully awake, but not asleep either.

You open your eyes. When did you close them? It takes a few seconds, but you realize you’ve dropped your tooka plush on the ground. You pick up Spectre and hold her up to look at the detailing on her face. He had bought the stuffed animal for the child, but the kid was terrified of it. Neither of you knew why he had such an exaggerated reaction to the toy, but you were happy to take her. You’d named her Spectre because the kid had reacted like he’d seen a ghost, you thought it was funny but the mandalorian had seemed less than impressed. He’s always short on humour, though.

Leaning your head against the cold wall, you pull her to your chest. Her fur is soft and long, when you thread your fingers through it, you feel how delicate the strands are. Trying to stare at the patterns on her back is hard, your vision too blurry to see anything regardless of how close or far the item is. Closing your eyes, you decide that you’ll just rest them for a second. Your vision will improve if you give your eyes a break.

Soft skin consumes your senses. The feeling of a hand brushing against the side of your face. The movement is gentle and soothing, it lulls you further into your dreams. Dreams. It’s not a dream. Panic courses through your veins as you sit up blindly, prepared to fight to protect the child. Your vision is blurry from sleep, but you see enough to instantly calm down. Silver helmet, reflective visor. The rest of his armour is gone, and you pinch your brows confused. When had he returned? Where are his armour and gloves?

…no gloves? Suddenly, you realize he was touching you with bare skin. Barely able to comprehend what’s happening, your mind rushes to ask him multiple questions, but in your sleepy state they’re all reduced to an incoherent mumble of, “gloves?” He chuckles, modulator crackling as it affects his voice. The sound makes your heart pound, he’s really back!

“‘M sorry, cyar’ika,” he whispers, again brushing his knuckles across your cheekbone, “didn’t mean to wake you.” Cyar’ika? You’ve never heard that word before. Are you losing your mind? Is this real? Are you even awake right now? You flutter your eyelashes rapidly in an attempt to blink away the sleep.

Spectre rests in the crook of your arm as you bring your hands up to rub your eyes. Murmuring, you slur your words, “S’okay?” You don’t intend for it to sound like a question, but you’re still half-asleep and convinced you’re dreaming.

“You need sleep,” he comments, observing your sluggish and confused behaviour. He moves to pick you up, and you go limp against his chest expecting he’ll take you to your little “room” on the opposite side of the hold. Instead, he moves you further into his bunk and follows, shutting the door. Both of you are engulfed in darkness. It’s disorienting, and you swear the room is swaying around you.

Your eyes are still struggling to adjust to the dark as you swivel your head in a lame attempt to understand your surroundings. His hand on your shoulder halts your movements. He puts gentle pressure until you’re fully on your side, still wrapped in your blanket cocoon. This is the most uncomfortable bed I’ve ever laid in, is your immediate reaction, your thoughts unfiltered due to lack of sleep, no wonder he has back issues. Maker. 

It’s not all bad, though. The space gets warmer and warmer, so you know he’s laying down too. There have been very few times you’ve experienced this, but he’s like a heater. His body heat radiates far when he’s not wearing all the armour. Not to mention, the limited space means you’re both touching, no matter how much you shift around. Just as you’re drifting off, you feel an arm drape over your waist and pull you closer. The warmth makes you feel fuzzy inside. No matter how hard you try to open your eyes up to see if you’re imagining things, it doesn’t work; you’re asleep.

The next morning, you wake up alone, save for the child. You can’t help but wonder, was that real or was it just a dream?

[seungstarss]

⸻ ❝ 𝐀𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐇 ❞ ˎˊ˗ PROLOGUE

「 10:01 PM : ❛❛ I'LL KILL YOU MYSELF❜❜ 」

Darkness. Through the cramped, dimly lit halls, yn rubbed her eyes, trying to make out any shape or formation that fell ahead in her pathway. The shrouding darkness encased the area, leaving her suffocated and dizzy as the dim lights flickered and zapped as if they'd break at any moment. She held onto her backpack strap for dear life, guarding the few items she carried inside — her ID, her phone, a knife, pepper spray, and last but not least, her invitation.

It was a rainy Sunday afternoon when yn received the dull paper envelope holding a black plastic card engraved with golden letters. Besides the lettering, the card was bland with a lack of design. "Come to xx xxxxx drive at 9pm, Friday xx, xxxx."

At first, she scoffed at what the card had to say. What kind of children's joke? Were they trying to threaten her? It all seemed like a set-up by some neighbourhood kid who enjoyed the pure frightening expressions their jokes left on young adults. "Pathetic." She mumbled, crumbling the card in her hand as she tossed it in the nearest trash can.

Yn had just gotten off of her shift at the local café and had no interest in taking part in some child's shenanigans. All she had in mind was her studies, and impressing her biology professor; professor Lee Heeseung. Though he was only a few years older than yn, she knew it was wrong to be crushing on someone so unobtainable. However, she couldn't stop herself from staring at him and daydreaming during her twenty-minute breaks. During her late-night calls with Yeji and Ryujin, they both called her delusional for even trying. "From the pictures, professor Lee's hot, I agree. But girl, with a face like his and a degree in teaching at such a prestigious university? He definitely already has a significant other." Yeji was right, but yn often found him meeting her gazes occasionally.

"Watch it!" A middle-aged man on a bike called out, almost crashing into yn as she was making her way to the bus terminal. Yn, who had her head down the whole time, apologized profusely even after the biker left her sight. It was getting darker, and the only source of natural light came from the full moon. She sighed as the rain didn't seem to stop — the downpour only got heavier, and her umbrella slowly became insignificant. The harsh rain attacked with a tremendous force like needles, and her shoes soaked, wetting her socks. Cursing the weather, she finally made it through the automatic doors of the station. The bus took her straight to her apartment and so as she found a seat on the almost empty vehicle, she fell into a deep slumber.

"You getting off or not?" A sudden voice spoke, waking her up from her almost peaceful nap. Her eyes scanned the scenery outside of the windows in shock, and she hastily packed her bag, checking if she left behind anything on the seat. Thanking the person who called her up, yn dashed out of the bus exit without opening her umbrella. The rain had stopped now, and the air was full of a damp, fresh smell.

As she sauntered closer to her apartment, her thoughts suddenly wandered to the unknown person on the bus. How did they know it was her stop? Did they know where she lived? Did they stalk her? The sudden fear overwhelmed yn as she gripped tightly on the sleeve of her fleece jacket. The feeling didn't wear off until she reached the mailbox room in the lobby of her apartment. Upon noticing the dull paper envelope sticking out of her mailbox, her fear was instead replaced with a spiraling sense of doom.

"Come to xx xxxxx drive at 9pm, Friday xx, xxxx." It read.

Her face lost its colour as she flipped the card.

"Ignore this one more time, and I'll fucking kill you myself."

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