#so I don’t think the lady parts would do hard drugs I think just some huffs and puffs.

[fabiotheguitar]

lady parts and their respective drugs of choice all being stress relievers was not lost on me… Saira smokes cigarettes, Bisma smokes weed, Taz vapes, personally I think Amina “I’m getting high off booze fumes” should try aromatherapy. What do we think for Ayesha.

[cherubcameron]

Part one

Rafe had been calling you extensively. To the point, where you had to have do not disturb on. You didn’t have it in you yet to block him. You forgot he also knew where you lived.

“You know we could have done this the easy way. Now we’re going to have to do the hard way.” He said, once you opened the door. You didn’t even have time to run, he had grabbed you forcefully. You screamed.

“Shhh, baby shh.”

You knew he had erratic behavior. He just hadn’t ever displayed it before to you.

“Rafe! Rafe! Put me down!”

“Rafe, dude. Come on, is this really necessary?”Topper says, watching his friend manhandle you.

“Shut the fuck up, Top!” Rafe says. “Help me get her in the car.”

“No! Get off!” You scream, you’re scratching at his arms and he winces in pain.

“Ow! Stop that!”

You manage to pull away from his strong hold.

“Enough Rafe, you can’t force me to go anywhere with you. This counts as kidnapping, ya know!”

He tries to grab you again but Topper gets inbetween.

“Do you really want to get in my way, Topper?” Rafe says, his eyes are on you though.

“Dude, this is not the way. You told me we came here so you could talk to her. Not force her to go somewhere against her will.”

Rafe begins to cry as he sees you flinch back. He doesn’t even care that Topper can see.

“Let her go, dude.” Topper says gently. You never would have guessed, Topper to be the voice of reason. But here he was.

“No! Fuck you, Topper. Please baby, please! I promise. I promise I’ll get clean. I haven’t even touched coke in weeks. Tell her Top. Tell her!”

You can tell he’s lying through his teeth. His jaw is swinging. And he keeps wiping away at his nose. His eyes are red from the tears.

“Baby, please.”

“I’m not your baby anymore.” You finally say.

“No.” He cries. “No don’t say shit like that. You’re breaking my heart baby. I fucked up, I know that. But you don’t have to punish me for it. Please. The coke will go away. The parties. I’ll change my lifestyle. I’ll be different.” He pauses. “I’ll be a different Rafe. Clean Rafe. Good Rafe. Country club Rafe. No drugs. No alcohol.”

He’s hitting his head with his hand as he says each word. A part of you aches to go to him to make him stop.

But you can tell he’s bluffing. You know he’ll do it sneakily.

“Rafe, you don’t know how to. That is your life. Until you’re serious—.” You try to speak but he cuts you off abruptly.

“I am serious! Tell her Topper. Fucking tell her! I stopped it all.”

You begin to cry, scared of the boy you’re looking at. Scared of whose he’s become. This wasn’t your Rafe.

“Come on, man. You’re scaring her. Let’s just go, okay—“

“Shut up Topper! Why can’t you shut up! You’re not helping me!”

He finally manages to get around Topper. His arms are around you again, he hiccups from the tears he’s crying.

“Princess, please. I’ll do anything. I’ll get on my knees. Please, don’t leave me. I love you. I love you.”

Kelce shows up out of nowhere. You don’t even realized he’s pulled up.

“That’s enough Rafe. Come on man. Let her be.” Both boys grab Rafe, freeing you from his grip.

“No! Please, no! I need her! I fucking need her.”

Grim faces are present on both boys faces.

“We know man. Just come on.”

Once they get him away, you crumble to the ground. Sobs breaking out of you.

“Hey! Is everything okay? We heard screaming.” Your old elderly neighbor asks. She’s a sweet old lady, who gardens when she can. You’ve helped her out a few times.

“Why don’t you come in. I’ve made some pie. I think you’ll like it.”

You manage to get up and follow her in. She gives you a sad smile.

“I’m sorry for the screaming.” You say meekly.

“Don’t ever apologize for another persons actions. Especially not a boy who doesn’t know when no means no. You’re so much stronger than that. I know it. I’ve known you since you were four. You’ve always been a fierce girl. Don’t ever let anyone take that away from you.” Her hand is on your shoulder. Gentle. Unlike Rafes iron clad grip. You almost burst out crying again.

“Come on, let’s enjoy some pie.”

[justmeinadaze]

Take It Out On Me Part 9 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: Idk where this came from but it hella flowed from my angsty brain. Enjoy :) There is a phone conversation in this one. Steve's will be in red.

Warnings: Daddy Steve and Sir Eddie and all that implies (I regret nothing!), Smut, angst, with a dash of fluff, degrading and spanking, reader gets hurt and ends up going to the ER (not because of anything they did! They would never hurt her like that.) Injury is mentioned in detail (bleeding and stitches), I think that's all.

Word Count: 5792

“Hey Maze.”

Your best friend grins at Steve and Eddie as they sit beside her on the bleachers in the rival school gym. The girls Hawkins basketball team had made it to finals and unbeknown to you the boys had made it a priority to be there especially Eddie who postponed Corroded Coffins band practice to come watch you. 

It had taken some time but Masie eventually grew fond of both boys even coming out with you guys to the movies or dinner at the diner in town. After the game began, she couldn’t help but laugh when the metalhead would clap when everyone else did with a vacant expression in his eyes. 

“Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

“No. I just know Y/N is playing and the ball goes in the hoop.”

“Eh. That’s enough.”, Steve grinned as he nudged his friend with his shoulder. 

Hawkins was ahead in score and after every quarter the opposing team seemed to get more and more aggressive. One of the girls seemed to always be on you the same way Billy had with Steve. 

“I’m going to murder this girl if she touches her again.”, Masie growled.

It happened so fast even you barely had time to register it. One minute you were running up the court, the next an elbow was colliding with your face, knocking you hard to the ground. When you didn’t get back up before a whistle even blew Eddie and Steve were on the court. 

The sound of sneakers skidded to your side. “Y/N?! Honey, I need you to look at me, ok?”, Steve lifted your head as Eddie slid his jacket behind it. Your coach knelt beside him as she spoke on the phone with emergency services. “Y/N! Come on, babe.”

“…Fuck me, that hurt…” You try to reach for your head but your limbs feel heavy. 

“No, hey, no. Don’t move, ok? How are you feeling?”

“Heavy…but that could be because I am.” They laugh as you flash them a tiny smile.

“Well, at least your making jokes.” Steve’s eyes meet Eddie’s as he brushes your hair back to expose where you were bleeding. Your head turned slightly towards Masie who was kneeling by your side as your eyes began to tear up. 

“I’m scared.”

The guys hated this. They had never felt so helpless and it was killing them. 

EMS arrived and started treating you before pulling you onto the stretcher. 

“Sweetheart, we’ll meet you at the hospital, okay?!”, Eddie called after you as they began wheeling you away. 

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

You grinned as all three of them walked into your room while the nurse was putting a bandage over the stitches near your temple. 

“If you ever scare me like that again, I’ll kill you.” Masie practically pushed the lady out of her way as she hugged you. 

“Oh, look at that. She’s definitely on some good drugs.”, Eddie grins. 

“Yeah, seven stitches and a lot of morphine later.”, the nurse giggled. “She’s going to be feeling it tomorrow though.” She collected her mess, exiting the room, and Masie followed her out saying she had to find a phone to call her parents letting them know she would be late coming home. 

Eddie came up to your side, gently gripping your cheeks as he kissed your forehead. It was honestly the softest thing you had ever experienced with him, making you want to collapse into his chest.

“Are you okay?”

“I…can’t really feel anything…but I think so.”, you smile. 

Steve’s hand slides into your own. “You did good out there tonight. So good in fact that bitch had to take you out completely.” He grinned as you lazily laughed. “Is this a pattern for you? Bleeding and getting into fights.”, he teased. 

“Oh yeah. On graduation, I’ll get my “fuck bitches up” girl scout badge.”, you slurred as the medicine really began kicking in. “Thank you both…for being here.”

Eddie ran his hand through your hair behind your head right as the hospital door flew open again. 

“Sweetheart! Are you okay?!” 

Eddie and Steve immediately pulled back as your mom came in and tugged you into her arms. 

“Yeah, mama. I’m fine—”

“What happened?!”

“Why are you two here?”, you dad asks sizing up the boys with his eyes. 

“We’re, um, her friends.”

“No. Masie is her friend. She’s never mentioned you especially you.”, he points at Eddie. 

“Dad, please… they are my friends.”

“Hm. We’ll talk about that when you are feeling better. You two can leave now.”

The metalhead’s fists clenched in defiance at the way your dad commanded him. Even worse, you were hurt and they didn’t want to leave you, making them feel helpless all over again. 

“Come on, Ed. Let’s…let’s head back. Y/N, call us later, okay?”

You nodded as you watched them hesitate, dragging their feet as they finally leave. 

“Shit. You guys are in for it now. Her parents are about to make this a lot harder for you.” Masie smiled at them with empathy before entering the room as they left.

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

Masie wasn’t joking around with her statement. They tried to call you but they were always met with a busy signal. You missed the next few days of school and your friend said that your parents kept checking in on you at night so they couldn’t sneak in again. 

It had been three days since they had seen your face or heard your voice and their anger began to leak through in their every day. Steve got in trouble for snapping at one of his teachers and Eddie tried to clear his mind with a new D & D campaign but he couldn’t focus long enough to get anything together. 

At 2am on a school night, the metalhead found himself glaring into the void, cigarette loosely hanging from his lips as he strummed his guitar when his phone ringing jostled him back to reality.

“Yeah, what.”, he answered angrily. 

“Eddie?”

“Baby? Hey, hey.” He moved his instrument to the side as he removed the cigarette and balanced it in a nearby ashtray. “Hey. Are you okay?”

“Yes, Sir. I’m fine. Am I bothering you?”

“No, sweetheart, you’re never bothering me. Do you want me to get, Steve?” He quickly puts you on hold as he dials the man’s number.

“Yeah?”, he grumbles sleepily. 

Without saying a word, Eddie pulls him through. “He’s here, Y/N.”

“Daddy?”

Steve’s eyes shot open at the sound of your little voice. “Honey? Jesus fucking Christ, it’s good to hear your voice. Are you alright?”

“I’m so sorry for disappearing. My parents were worried because I got hurt and then quizzed me about you both. My dad saw you both touching me in the hospital and he pitched a fit. He said I wasn’t allowed to talk to you guys. This is the first time in the last few days I haven’t had them looming over me.”

“We can worry about all that later. What matters to us is how your head is.”

“It still hurts but not as bad as that first morning. It was awful. I…I just wanted you two to hold me and tell me everything would be ok…”

“Hey, hey now, baby girl. Everything IS ok. When are you coming back to school?”

“Tomorrow afternoon. I have an appointment with the doctor in the morning so I should be back by lunch.” Your sniffles filled their receivers. “Are you two alright? I heard Daddy got in trouble.”

“Yeah, Steve got feisty with one of his teachers.”, Eddie chuckled. 

“I don’t like feeling out of control…”, Steve exhaled heavily. 

 “We were just worried about you, princess. It’s our job to take care of you.” You’re end suddenly disconnected and with that you were gone again. “Ugh! Fuck this bullshit.”, Eddie growled as he picked up his cigarette again.

“Thanks for calling me, Munson. Fuck, I can’t wait for tomorrow. I need to see her face.”

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

Steve leans against one of the poles outside while Eddie paces during their lunch period in the front parking lot as they wait for you. 

“Where the hell is she?”

Steve shrugs, checking his watch for the millionth time. 

“God damnit! I fucking hate this!”

“Eddie, relax, dude.”

“Don’t tell me to relax, Harrington. I know you feel the same way. I fucking hate this helpless feeling. This is WORSE than when she was in New York. At least then we knew she would call us to tell us she was ok. Now when she actually fucking needs us, there’s nothing we can do?!”

“Eddie?” Their heads whip around to the sound of your voice. “What’s wrong? Why are you both out here?”

For over three days, this is what the metalhead had been waiting for, you in front of him, but seeing you now had him frozen in place. You had a different type of bandage covering your wound than the last time they saw you at the hospital. Your eye just below it was a light shade of purple as it slowly began fading. 

The mixture of feelings coursing through your own body had you stuck as well. You noticed it before they turned around; the erratic energy surrounding them as they waited. You felt it to; the helplessness of not being able to even call them and hear them comfort you. While you rested you often thought about how they behaved at the gym to the hospital. Steve’s panicked tone as he held you commanding you to keep your eyes open. The fear in Eddie’s eyes and the gentle touches when he brushed your hair back as you spoke to them. 

You also couldn’t help but be a little self-conscious of the injury itself. It looked (and felt) a lot worse those first couple of days to the point where even blinking had you wincing. It was beginning to heal though and the doctor said soon they would be able to take out the stitches. You had so many other unorthodox questions you wanted to ask but didn’t know how. For example, with the current state of your injury, could you still be held down and fucked senseless by two handsome men? 

Seeing them now you kind of wish you had because not only did they seem like they had things they needed to release but you desperately wanted them to because you needed it to. You needed them to take out the frustration of the last few days on you because you needed to let it go as well. 

Eddie’s palm ran through your hair down to the side of your cheek. “I-I didn’t realize she hit you that hard. Are you—does it—”

“Not as bad, no. I didn’t either but they are taking the stitches out Friday and he said I can even start playing again by next week. Not much point now…the season is pretty much over.”, you chuckle. “Why are you guys out here? I was sitting with Masie waiting for you.”

“You said you’d be back by lunch so we were waiting for you to park. We… oh fuck this.” Steve’s hand shot to grab the back of your neck, pulling your lips to his. His kisses couldn’t be described any other way besides hungry. When he pulled away, he placed his forehead on yours careful not to hurt you. “We don’t like feeling out of control…”

“I’m sorry, Daddy. I tried, I swear, but—”

“No. You were bleeding in our arms. You were scared and there was nothing we could do about it in that moment. Then you were all alone… we couldn’t get to you…”

Eddie tugged lightly on your arm and you fell into his chest. “We felt helpless… It’s nothing you did. I just keep thinking about you in the hospital with those big, sad eyes and we left you.”

“No, hey, no.” You lean back looking up at him. “You didn’t leave me by choice. I know that.” Following Steve’s lead, you reach for his chin and tilt his lips to yours.

The sound of the bell forces you both apart. “I’m not sure if it’s my head or what but that sound is way more fucking grating.” You grin as they laugh, the beautiful noise shooting straight to your heart. 

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

The rest of the week was a different kind of hell. Everyone kept staring at your face as you walked by, some even asking for the gory details. Masie being the ever-present best friend made sure to shoo them as far away as she could before looping her arm in yours and walking you to class. 

It was wonderful being able to see the guys again but your parents were still hovering over you not even allowing you to go to Masie’s house after school if you asked. Eddie and Steve started behaving a bit differently as well. Friday you finally got your stitches out and by that following Monday you were feeling a lot better. The cut was still visible of course but the bruising and swelling had subsided greatly. 

Even though you couldn’t go to their house, you at least expected them to utilize the time at school like they had previously but they didn’t. It was almost like they were afraid to touch you. 

“Mom, please. I need to get out of the house! I’m much better, let me hang out with Masie.”

Your parents glanced at each other from their place on the couch. “Just Masie?”

“Of course—”

“You know I don’t want you hanging out with that freaky Munson kid or the Harrington boy especially if they are associated.”

“I know, dad.” You tried to hold in your growl as he insulted them. 

“Fine. Are you going to spend the night?”

They nodded when you asked if you could and you excitedly ran to your car as you headed for Eddie’s trailer.

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

“Hello there.” A tall, older man opened the door for you gesturing for you to come in. “I assume you’re here for Eddie. He’s…” The metalhead came into view when he saw you from his room. “…right there. I’m Wayne, his uncle. Are you Y/N?”

“Hi, I am. It’s nice to finally meet you.”, you beam. 

“Likewise. I’ve heard some great things about you.” He grins down at you before turning to collect some things from the couch and tugging on his hat. “Alright, Ed. I’m off to work. Don’t burn anything down.”

“Yeah, yeah.”, Eddie waves after him nonchalantly. “I see the wardens set you free.”

“They did. I thought the three of us could spend some time together.” You coyly run your hand down his shirted chest as you smile. To your dismay, he lightly grabs your wrists and places it on your side. 

“That sounds like fun. Steve is on his way right now, actually. We were going to smoke and listen to some music.”

“Oh…um…ok. I’m not intruding or anything, am I?”

“No, sweetheart, no. Go sit on my bed and I’ll be right there.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He paused then, glancing to the floor before flashing you a half-hearted smile. 

Did…Did I do something wrong? Why he is being like this? Maybe Steve will help.

After doing what he suggested, you looked out to his bedroom window to see the boy smoking on his front steps. A few moments go by before a BMW slowly pulls up to the trailer. His eyebrows furrow in confusion when he sees your car and they both have what seems like a heated conversation. Eddie tosses the cigarette in the dirt, dusting off his shorts before they come inside. 

“Hey, honey. Nice to see you out of your prison.”

You softly smile as you rise to hug him but something’s off. Steve usually wraps his arms tightly around you, pressing your head to this chest as you inhale him. This time his arms encircled you for all of five seconds before letting you go. 

“Are you both mad at me?”

“No, baby. Why would we be mad at you?”, Eddie asks as he sits on the floor and reaches for his black tin lunch box. 

“You’re just acting weird… less…like you were before.”

“I have no idea what that means.”, Steve chuckles. As he sits at the end of the bed, you notice his shoulders tense. Neither of them seemed relaxed at all. 

“Oh? You have no idea? Hm. That’s cool. Maybe Billy Hargrove may know.” You gaze shifts between them, gauging their reaction hoping to get any at all that wasn’t whatever they were displaying now. Eddie froze as Steve’s breathing became a bit more erratic but neither responded to you verbally. “Really? Nothing to say? Misters I-take-what-I-want and call-me-by-my-titles have absolutely nothing to say to me?!”

Eddie moved everything to the side as he listened to you speak. Steve still hadn’t really looked at you so you took it upon yourself, reaching for his chin and turning him to face you. His hand roughly reached for your wrist but instead of acting on your action…he let you go.

“Wow.”, you huffed. “Never thought I’d see the day when the freak and the king became bitches yet here we are. What was it, hm? Is it because I made you guys feel something other than lust? Or are you just afraid to live up to your names because I got hurt. I assure you both I just cracked my head open yet I have more fire than either of you this past week!”

You shook your head, rising to your feet and heading towards the front door. A hand abruptly grabbed your arm and spun you back towards the hallway. “Go.”, Eddie pointed towards his bedroom. “NOW!” He shouted into your face causing you to jump as you turned and quickly did as he asked. 

He brought a chair from the living room and placed it in the middle of his bedroom. “Sit.”

As you took your seat, he sat across from you beside Steve whose eyes were clouded over with rage. 

“I always love when you get angry like you just did. It really gives me insight into how you see us and this relationship.” Eddie’s tone was light but his tense body language betrayed him as he lit a cigarette. “We feel things for you other than lust every fucking day but the helplessness was new. This kind of helpless anyway. The kind that makes you want to do whatever you have to…to make sure the person you care about is ok.”

“But I guess that was all for nothing since we don’t care about you. We just want to fuck you. It’s just Daddy, Sir, and Baby, right?”, Steve glared at you. “It’s just titles, sex, and money… Even if that’s the case, we still wouldn’t have played with you because you were hurt.”, he snickers before he continues. “Can’t really play with a toy when it’s damaged.”

Your eyes start to water at his words but you fold your arms and regain your composure as you sit up straighter. You’re not going to show them your pain. 

“Hurts, doesn’t it? Being referred to like that.” Eddie takes a drag from his cigarette and blows smoke in your direction. “Imagine how it makes us feel when you constantly say things like that. That just because you belong to us all we’re capable of is having sexual feelings for you. That we don’t think about you every god damn day and wonder how you are.”

“If you’re alright…did she eat? Did she get enough sleep since stays up till 2am doing her homework? Are Tommy and Carol leaving her alone because she already has enough on her plate with things at home and school…”

“When is she going to spend the night again because my pillow doesn’t smell like her anymore? Why is the clock moving so fucking slow? I just want it to be lunch so I can hear her laugh across the lunchroom. Is it the end of the day so I can wrap my arms around her before we walk her to her car.”

You wiped the stray tear that escaped as they continued. 

“Those feelings were amplified by ten when we couldn’t reach you. I know she’s in pain but I can’t…hold her. I can’t tell her everything is okay. I can’t fucking kiss her and take care of her like we should.” Eddie squishes his cigarette and lights another. “I hope…I hope she doesn’t think that we’re fine without her.”

Steve glances at him as the boy looks down at the floor. “Because we weren’t… Y/N, when you didn’t get back up and you were struggling to even open your eyes… it scared the hell out of me; out of us.”

“Is that why you won’t touch me?”, you ask.

“Yes and no.”

“Guys…”

Eddie blows smoke in your direction again. “Yes because it scared us and no because… fuck it, Harrington. I don’t know how else to say it so I’m just going to. Sweetheart, we have a lot of fucking buildup of emotions from everything that happened and the feeling of not having control. We know that Miss I-like-to-be-used would allow us to release some of that energy but, baby, we…can’t promise we’d be gentle.”

“And with your injury we aren’t sure what you can handle… and we know that if we touch you we, we may never stop so…”

“Then don’t.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, their answer to your question turning you on. “Please… I need it just as bad as you do.”

They hear it to; the neediness in your tone pleading with them. Their cocks twitch in their pants as you squirm in your chair. 

“Maybe when you’ve fully healed, baby.”

“I’m fine, Daddy. I promise. The stitches are out and it doesn’t even hurt anymore. Please…”

“No.” Eddie didn’t say that with any kind of confidence so you knew you getting through.

Standing from your chair, you kicked off your jeans before taking a seat again making sure to leave your legs wide open. 

“But, Sir, I need you. I need you to make me cum.” Your fingers dip under the fabric of your underwear as you run them through your folds. 

“Seem like you’re doing just fine. I’m not sure what a couple of bitches like us could do, right Stevie?”

Steve was losing his resolve; he wasn’t as strong as Eddie. It had been a couple of weeks since he tasted you and all he wanted to do was bury his face between your legs. 

“I’m sorry for being rude to you. I just…it hurt me that you didn’t want to touch me.”

“Hey. It’s not that we didn’t want to—”

“I know, Sir. I know. You were looking out for me. Thank you for always being so good to me.” Your eyes met his as your fingers slide into your entrance. “Fuck… please. Your fingers are so much bigger than mine.”

His eyes narrowed in your direction. “Did you just interrupt me?”

A cocky grin spread across your face. “Yes, Sir, I did.”

Eddie snapped his fingers and motioned for you to stand in front of them. You did as you were told, shivering when his hands finally made contact with your skin as he lifted off your shirt and slid down your panties. 

“Kneel.”, he commands as he points towards the floor. 

They weren’t sure if you could tell but they were struggling so hard to keep their composure. Seeing you like this, on your knees in front of them as you looked up with those big, beautiful, needy eyes, was torture in it of itself. 

Steve’s palm reached out to touch your face as his thumb traced your lingering wound. Your check turned into his touch as you delicately kissed the pads of his fingers. 

“I’m ok, Daddy. I promise. I wouldn’t lie to you…to either of you.”

Eddie’s foot suddenly slid between your legs. “Why don’t you finish what you were doing, princess? Make yourself cum.”

You hesitated slightly, wrapping your arms around his calf as your started to grind your hips, whining when you couldn’t seem to get enough friction. 

“Need something bigger, pretty girl? I like we spoiled her, Stevie.” He chuckles as his hands grip your biceps pulling you onto the bed on top of him. You bit your bottom lip to stifle the moan as he took off his shirt and tossed it to the floor. “Up, up.” He called as he patted his tummy. 

Eddie quirked his eyebrow as if to say you can continue and a whimper left your chest as you slowly began grinding your pussy against him. He grinned as he placed his arms behind his head, watching you. 

“Harrington, you should really come up here. The view is quite nice.”

“I don’t mind what I’m seeing back here.” Steve’s palm lightly came down on your ass eliciting a soft moan. You could tell he was testing the waters so you offered some encouragement of your own. 

“Jesus, Daddy. I like that.”

This time Eddie spanked you a bit harder. “Say it correctly.”

“I—mmm—I like Daddy spanking me.”

“Yeah, you do. I can feel you fucking dripping.”

Balancing on his chest, you rub your hips harder against him, his happy trail tickling you in the best possible way. The sound of the boy’s moan underneath you gave you pause as your eyes fluttered open and met his.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I…I’m not hurting you…right?” It takes Eddie a moment and a cursory glance towards his friend to realize what you mean. His palms grip either side of your face as he brings you closer to his own. 

“Grind.”, he commands. You hesitate before continuing, gripping his wrist for leverage. “Look at me, Y/N. Stop worrying about your body. You should be more concerned about this…”, his thumb glides over your forehead before coming down to caress your stomach. “…than this. You trust us, right?”

“Yes, Sir. I trust you and Daddy.”

He smiles as you correctly answer his question. “Good girl, princess. We know not only how to take care of you but ourselves. If I couldn’t handle a beautiful girl like you rubbing her pretty little pussy on top of me, I would never have put you in that position. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

“Yes, Sir, I understand…fuck me.” Your body trembles above him as you cum, the hair on his stomach now coated with you. “Please…please, use me.”, you beg. “I know you both went through a lot these past few days. I did to. I missed you so much. Please…”

Eddie gestured for you to get off him, standing to remove his shorts and boxers. As you waited, a now naked Steve patted the mattress, signaling for you to lay down on your back next to him.

“Tap twice to get my attention, ok?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

His fingers smoothed your hair back as he sat up on his knees and pressed the tip of his mushroom head to your lips. “Open.” Steve placed his cock between your mouth, guiding it in and out with an obnoxious pop before fully settling in. 

The bed shook underneath you as Eddie placed himself between your legs, holding your thighs open for a good view as he spit into your cunt. After lifting your leg over his shoulder, he sheathed himself inside of your core, your eyes rolling back at the feeling. 

He wasn’t ruthless but he definitely wasn’t gentle as he jackhammered his hips into yours. Steve held the back of your head as he pumped into your mouth, biting his lips as both men pushed themselves deeper into you. 

“That’s it, babe. Taking me and Steve like the good fucking slut you are. Fuck, I missed this fucking pussy.” His thumb came down to play with your clit and you mewled as you jerked your head away from Steve. 

“Fuck! Yes, Sir. Please…”

“Yeah? Is that the spot, sweetheart?” 

The other boy wrapped his hand around your throat, lightly squeezing as Eddie slammed into you. Steve’s lips came down to meet yours as you panted against them as you came. The metalhead aggressively placed his hands on your ass, holding you as tightly to him as he could get before roughly thrusting his seed inside of you.

The boys head hung as he tried to catch his breath, his hair blocking his face from your view. His arm slowly rose, wrapping around your thigh as his palm rested on your mound. A tiny gasp left your lips as his thumb casually began flicking your clit again. 

“So sensitive…”, he grinned. “I bet I can make you cum again by just doing this without moving my cock.”

“It’s not hurting you?”, Steve chuckled making Eddie’s grin stretch further along his gorgeous face. 

“A little.” He licks his lips as his eyes remain on himself inside of you and his thumb moving against you. “But, again, Harrington, the view is worth it. F-fuck. She’s just fucking pulling me in.”

Eddie grunts as his face scrunches together, slowly pulling halfway out before your pussy tightens around him and he slides back in. Your eyes roll and close as he moves faster against you bundle of nerves, your hand blindly reaching for Steve’s cheek so you can feel his lips. 

His tongue sloppily glides along yours as his fingers delicately brush your hair away from your face. You pulled away, moaning as the sound of slick filled the room. 

“There you go, honey. Let go and just cum. Don’t think about anything else except the way Eddie feels touching you. God, baby girl, I can’t wait to be inside of you. After you cum on my cock I’m going to cum in this pretty mouth. Do you want that?”

“Y-yes, Daddy. Please.”

“God damn it…”, Eddie mewled, your cunt squeezing him like a vice as you cum. 

Steve kisses your forehead before he and the metalhead switch places. After lifting you up and leaning his back against the headboard, he positions you on top of him so you were facing away with your legs bent at the knee on either side of him. Unsure of what you should be doing, he guided you with his hands, raising your hips and bringing you down gradually on to his dick. 

“That’s my good girl. Fuck. L-lean forward, baby, and balance on your hands.”

You followed his instructions, pushing on to your hands and using them for leverage as you bounced your hips against his own. Eddie sat on his knees in front of you, his hands cupping your face as he kissed your lips.

“How does he feel, sweetheart?”

“Mmm—so good.”

“Yeah? Funny. I thought you said you had some aggression you wanted to get out to. Doesn’t seem like you’re fucking him that way.”

You whimper as you roll your waist, Steve’s hand coming down to smack your ass.

“Come on, Y/N. I know you can do better than that.”, Eddie coos.

“Fuck, yes, honey.” The other man grunts from behind as your lower half hits his as hard and fast as you can go. 

“I know, baby. I know.” Eddie tangles his fingers into your hair as he presses your face to his shoulder while Steve begins thrusting upwards to meet your actions with aggressive motions of his own. 

Crying out, your body shutters as you tumble of the edge.

“Good…good girl, babe. Shit…come…come put those beautiful lips…on my cock.”, he panted. 

His friend released his hold on you as you slid off his lap and adjusted yourself so you could take him in your mouth. Steve held you still as he pumped into until you felt his spend hit the back of your throat. You quickly bobbed your head, utilizing your tongue to grab every last drop you could before swallowing him down. 

You collapsed on to your back trying to catch your breath until a hand slid behind your head lifting it up till your lips touched glass. 

“Drink this, sweetheart.” As soon as the water hit your tastebuds, your hand reached for the cup and chugged the rest of its contents. “Good, baby. Let’s go take a shower really quick, ok?”

You nod as you allow him to take your hand and lead you to his bathroom before preparing the shower. Standing silently in your bliss, you allow him to clean you. 

Eddie is startled slightly when your arms wrap around him and you nuzzle into his chest. He smiles as he holds you to him. 

“I’m glad you’re okay. It’s been a while since I was…panicked like that. When we couldn’t be there for you, I felt like I failed you.”

“No, Sir. Please, don’t think like that. I know my parents made it harder with how they reacted. Maybe after we graduate, we can look for a place together. That way you know I’m safe.”

“You’d want that?”

You lean back, meeting his eyes. “Of course. I’m yours. I’d love to be able to see you guys every day. I mean, we can talk about it. You and Steve don’t have to say yes or no right now.”

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

Eddie’s phone blares angerly on his bed side table making Steve cringe into your shoulder and pull you tighter to his chest. The metalhead groaned as the hand you had resting on his back slid off as he rolled over to stop the God awful noise from continuing. 

“Yeah?!...Hey Wayne…Yeah, she’s still here and Harrington to.”

He presses the phone to his chest and without opening his eyes, addresses you both. “My uncle is on his way home and wants to know if we want anything from the diner for breakfast.”

“He doesn’t have to do that.”, you answer groggily. 

“Yeah, Wayne. My girlfriend says she would like eggs and bacon with some coffee and we’ll have the same. Thanks, man.”

Eddie places the device back down and rolls over on his side facing you. 

“You said girlfriend…”

“Jesus H Christ.”, the boy sighs before opening his eyes to meet your glowing ones. “Do you not want to be?”

“No…I mean yes…I mean…”

Steve chuckles behind you. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

“Am I your girlfriend to?”

“I kinda thought that obvious with the speech we gave you last night.” 

Excitedly, you plant a kiss on each of them as they groan playfully. “Now, boyfriends, I think we should at least put clothes on before Eddie’s uncle comes home and asks some really awkward questions.”

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

@manda-panda-monium @sherrylyn628 @local-stoner-bitch

@katethetank @danandphilequalsmemes @alienthings

@sidthedollface2 @mandyjo8719 @bexreastoomuch

@chelebelletx @shayeddie @emmalee-01 @anaibis

@wroteclassicaly @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes

@siriuslysmoking @raptorbait529 @miarosso

[kneelingshadowsalome]

i don’t know if you answered something like this before, but what if there was another woman that came into könig’s life, say someone who genuinely is attracted to him and who actually wants to pursue him as a partner (for whatever fucked up, weird reason she might have), would he break it off with Engel? i mean, there is this other woman, who is willing to be in a relationship with someone like him, willing to give him the attention and affection, willing to make up for everything Engel has lacked and more. and könig does have a weak spot for any woman that gives him any morsel of attention, so do you think he would pursue something… better? if it was on the table, right then and there? or does he truly believe Engel is his one and only??

Oh man. :")

Premise one: König loves women. He can't help it! So it's better to just deal with it.

Premise two: Women don’t love König back. Or at least 99.9 % of the women population don’t (I myself am part of the 0.1 % who do, and I'm proud of it)

Also… women don’t usually flirt with König. Or if they do, they eventually realize this guy is crazy and abort the mission. König gets obsessed really soon, and at that point the said ladies are nowhere to be seen. Reader of course is an exception – there's some circumstantial evidence she might belong in this 0.1 % group as well.

König is used to the fact that all women play hard to get. (...) Usually it’s he who takes the first step. So, if a woman flirts with him, it’s such an odd situation that he freezes at first! Attention is like the hardest drug you can give to this dude.

Now it depends what kind of a woman is approaching him and how, but it's safe to say that König wouldn’t be mean. But he would make it clear that he’s, eh, NOT AVAILABLE. His eyes might wander, he might feel a little funny, mainly because of the sudden attention. But Engel is still his one and only! This man is loyal to the death, even if he's happily surprised (he's in seventh heaven) that a woman shows interest in him.

If this woman doesn't back down but flirts some more, starts to show kindness and affection and obsession, sees what kind of a man König really is and still falls in love… Starts to cherish his craziness & adore and worship him…? Oh no. Sound the alarm.

Our man would be in HELL.

If König and reader have a loving relationship, König doesn't really pay attention to other women: they are only brief distractions. Engel is pretty much all he can obsess think about.

But if reader is hesitating, isn't so in love, and a woman who is ready to give König everything he has ever wanted walks into the picture, he would be soooo tempted. He would be torn between his Engel and this new, intoxicating attention, especially if reader is trying to detach from him, has mixed feelings about their relationship, isn’t 100 % committed or is still scared.

Due to his turbulent childhood, König has developed a sixth sense. It tells him when something is off. If he doesn't feel secure and loved in a relationship, of course he would hope to find these things someplace else... The temptation would be torment, however, because under all that sexism and those flaws, König wants to be a good man. He wants to be good to his chosen one. He has put reader on a pedestal, holds her in such high regard. She is the purest of angels in his blood-tainted, rotten world.

But what is he to do if his angel doesn't want him…? With a heavy heart, he would slowly start to succumb to the temptation of this infatuated, passionate, attention-giving, obsessed woman.

So long story short: if Engel loves him, no other woman could ever come between them! But if she doesn’t, if the situation is unstable, there is a chance he might slip. Poor thing.

(Because of course it’s all women’s fault, they're simply too sweet and make him confused, make his head spin. What is he to do when women flee from him all his life and then suddenly there's two girls who don't, like, refuse him?? He doesn't know if he's in heaven or in hell.)

[kjngdomheartz]

jjba part 5 matchup for @lady-of-endless 🐞

thank u so much also for doing another matchup with me!! i hope i wasn’t too much of a nuisance, especially with your rqs closed 😭 i hope you enjoy!!

gifs aren’t mine once again- thank you creators!

i match you with…

2 of the La Squadra boys, your choice!

it’s a battle between the two for you, but the only one who can settle the conclusion is you!

and if you want both of them, then i guess if they don’t find out right—

first up..

Ghiaccio

-For Ghiaccio, he’s just 100% explosive. Even when he’s talking normally, his tone of voice is always sarcastic or booming, but for some reason you’re always able to tell it apart. He’s such a sucker for that since you’re the only person that can do that, and when you recognize his intention to be gentle with his words, he’s ecstatic. He feels like you’re the only person who can read him, and because of that he notices you first everytime out of everyone in La Squadra, and you’re always the first one he looks for during battle and missions.

-Like him, he admires your stubbornness and likes that you reflect him in a way. He would honestly get kinda frustrated with someone that didn’t have your stern characteristics. Though he’s aware of your more soft and affectionate traits and it makes him melt. He’ll only show it with you, privately, and when he does, he’s like a puppy kicking its leg happily.

-Protectiveness is a competition. With a stand as powerful and abusable as his, it’s his first instinct to create an ice barrier between you and the enemy, taking on the lead as your big strong knight. He’ll let you defend yourself as well, but the second he senses uneasiness in your combat, he’s going apeshit. Expect this a lot, along with his complaining after your lectures about how you’re also in La Squadra for a reason. But of course, one day you decide to show him with your actions rather than words, and absolutely demolish an enemy stand user with very minimum help from him and La Squadra. He grumbles to himself a bit and lays off the knight in shining armor play for a while. (only a while, he’s back on track soon enough ;)

-He’s the type to express his emotions 24/7, 365 days a year. He thinks it’s nothing to be ashamed of, even though he lets his anger get the best of him all the time. Just being around him makes you want to blow off some steam, and he’s all for it. Though communication isn’t a key factor for him, he’s not good at it without letting his anger drive it. Which is another reason he loves you so much, your touch is like a stress toy to him. A lot of the time when he notices you getting overwhelmed, he tries to aid it with pep talks and your favorite snacks. He has a hard time comforting people himself, but for you, he’ll sure as hell try.

-He doesn’t mind your style at all, and while it’s different than what he’s used to, it reminds him of Risotto so he validates it (as he should).

——

option 2, Risotto

-Risotto is always just so intimidating. Though this didn’t bother you at all, and it didn’t stop you from interacting with him a bit. From the start, Risotto took note of your gentle and mysterious nature (with the assistance of your style) and was glad you did the same. He was rather pleased with your arrival to La Squadra, in which Sorbet and Gelato pick up on immediately with a few glances to eachother.

-Believe it or not, Risotto just wants a cuddle session with you. He has so many worries that he’s a little too good at hiding, and when he’s just in your embrace alone with your hand tangled in his hair, it gives him moments of peace and silence. He prefers you over any sort of drug, he’s the type to get panicky when under the influence. It took a while to crack this out of him, given his blank manner. He dies for physical affection whether it says it in his face or not. Just no PDA. It’s not that he’s ashamed of you, it just makes him feel weird. His expression when he’s like this is always calm and the same as how it always is, he’s not an expression guy. Despite this you always just know, and a lot of the time when he wants this he just pulls you in without a word.

-He enjoys both of your sides, angel or devil. Both are beautiful and admirable to him, and he’s glad you’re hardened enough to handle everything in La Squadra. Though again, he knows how dangerous everything is and even you being apart of the squad adds another worry onto his plate. He’s even tried to convince you to leave before. You always tell him not to worry and that you can defend yourself, so he listens to you but lets the worry linger. Of course, all of this is all pent up though. It’s something you both struggle with.

-Your medical expertise comes in real handy with Risotto, he bleeds a lot after combat. How could he not, with a stand so extreme?

-Risotto doesn’t mind taking the lead at all. In fact, he’s used to it and is more than willing for you. Count it as an act of service, though to him it’s just common decency.

-His idea of taking you out is just spending quality time together, no matter what you’re doing. Despite him being a match for nobody, (besides Doppio) he wants you close to him and away from any possible threat.

-Your style is very close to his favorite part of you. Screw the opposite aesthetic couples- you guys are like Morticia and Gomez. It makes him feel like you guys were made for each other, and that brings him at ease more than anything.

i also think Bruno would take a liking to you. He would quickly analyze you in battles and for some reason unknown to you, avoid attacking you but willing to take hits from you. He’s intrigued with your character and though he won’t admit it, wished you weren’t on an enemy side to get to know you better.

[affectiondeficitdisorder]

NOBODY WANTS THIS... least of all me

by Ethlie Ann Vare

Funny story. Back in my hopeless romantic days, I was always writing love stories. Sometimes this was hard to do, as I was pigeonholed as an “action-adventure” screenwriter. So I would write a cop show and have the detective fall in love with a suspect, or a victim. The con man had to fall for his mark. The bounty hunter fell for his prey. When I wrote for the science fiction series Gene Roddenberry’s Andromeda, I had a space ship fall in love with another space ship. Seriously. They were the ship’s android AI avatars caught in a Romeo and Juliet story called, naturally, Star-Crossed. 

I just watched it again; it’s available on free TV channels like Pluto, Tubi and Philo. It’s not bad, if you can stomach VFX circa 2001. But boy, can you tell it was written by a love addict! Everybody is horny for everybody, and love is always at first sight. “When I look at you, my breath catches in my throat and my heart swells in my chest until my ribs hurt,” says Gabriel, the handsome humanoid avatar of one spaceship. “I don’t want to live without you.”

They kiss. Romantic music plays. They kiss some more. They Matrix themselves into the mainframe and have virtual sex. “I’ve never felt like this before and I don’t want it to end,” says Rommie, the beautiful humanoid avatar of the other spaceship. They pledge their intention to give up their livelihoods, if not their lives, for one another within hours of that first kiss. 

Now, I don’t want to say my dialog did it — as sincere as it was at the time, what with me being so enmeshed in my fantasies of true love — but the actors playing the lovesick avatars, Lexa Doig and Michael Shanks, ended up falling in love themselves. They’re still married to this day. It was a real life Hollywood Ending. 

Lexa and Michael, if you read this… you’re welcome. 

But I’m not the lovesick puppy I was in 2001. If anything, I have become the anti-Hollywood Ending lady. I’ve written magazine articles about it. There’s a chapter in LOVE ADDICT: Sex, Romance and Other Dangerous Drugs about it. I’m the one warning you that a romcom for a love addict is like a Budweiser ad for an alcoholic: It makes something look really, really good that has the potential to be really, really bad. The beer commercial shows the pretty people in the bar laughing, not the drunk puking in the bathroom the next morning. The romcom shows the meet-cute and the wedding chapel, not the bruised lady filing a restraining order six months later.

Which is why I had to be dragged like a dog to the groomer to Netflix to watch Nobody Wants This, the hit series about the star-crossed mismatch between a handsome young rabbi and a sex and relationship podcaster… a blonde, not remotely Jewish podcaster. They’re not exactly the AI avatars of opposing warships, but close enough.

I didn’t want to like it. I really didn’t. But I did. So why did this work for me when I am so resistant to the cultural trope of the romcom? Probably because the series is written by an actual shiksa who is married to an actual rabbi. It feels real because it’s about real people, who are honest and open with each other and confront their feelings like real people, just with snappier quips. 

“My biggest fear is a bad facelift,” says Joanne, “but I think I'm realizing an even bigger fear is this: that I will become emotionally dependent on a guy who will one day realize that I'm too much and break my heart.” Who hasn’t felt like that? (Not the facelift part, dear one. You are perfect and will never age.)

You know the old line “love means never having to say you’re sorry?” It’s bullshit. Lovers are not mind readers. These guys apologize all the time. They make mistakes, they take responsibility for their mistakes, they make amends, they move forward. What a concept!

Kristen Bell plays the smart, funny, wildly insecure agnostic Joanne; Adam Brody plays the sensitive, spiritual, emotionally available rabbi Noah. The series was created by Erin Foster, wife of Rabbi Simon Tikhman. And while I’m sure she never crossed herself in synagogue like Joanne does — actually, I can’t imagine any adult living in Los Angeles being that clueless — Foster is using the stuff of real life to make her comedy. 

She’s using her own marriage. She’s using her creative relationship with her real-life sister. And I suspect she’s using the lessons she learned from watching her dad, music industry powerhouse David Foster, marry and divorce five times, give or take a time. (Yes, his current wife is younger than his daughter. Yes, I used to play a gossip on E! Entertainment Television’s The Gossip Show.) The relationships in Nobody Wants Thisfeel healthy. These days I like healthy, especially when it’s funny.

In the chapter of LOVE ADDICT where I talk about the way pop culture glorifies love addiction (and I was part of the problem!), I wrote: “I’m not lobbying for pop songs with lyrics like ‘Oh, baby, I love the way you communicate’ and ‘Rock me with your integrity, daddy, all night long.’” But maybe there’s a place for that, too. As long as it has a good beat and you can dance to it.

Nobody Wants This has been renewed for a second season. I will be watching. Join me.

[kudzucataclysm]

how about some Vague Questions about Vague

1. who’s arc is going to be the most surprising? you do not have to specify if it is positive or negative lmao

2. what is The Most ridiculous thing dez/frank or jack/vincent have gotten up to separately and together. bonus points if all four of them have had a shenanigan or two.

3. who would be the worst kid to baby sit?

4. who would kill each other if they were left alone as the last two people on earth?

5. worst take someone could have about se or any of the characters that would make you lay in the earth until the heat death of the universe? what about the best take that would fully ascend you to Best Weather Boy aka god

YIPPEE!!!!!! TYSM FOR THE QS!!!

1. who’s arc is going to be the most surprising? you do not have to specify if it is positive or negative lmao

funnily enough….Thursday’s!! His arc is most definitely gonna be the one to sort of throw people for a loop and (hopefully) make people sort of..question the way they view him! like dw at the end of the day he’s still gonna be a garbage person, like. that’s just who he is lmao but when it comes to his arc for Friday and even Francis i hope to surprise people :3

2. what is The Most ridiculous thing dez/frank or jack/vincent have gotten up to separately and together. bonus points if all four of them have had a shenanigan or two.

Desmond: Helped his older sibling Happy steal someone else’s cable (unknowingly), but ended up dropping the ladder becuz a hornet was trying to sting him so Happy ended up banging their head against the wall on the way down

Francis: Almost ate a couch and died. Once beat up an old lady for cutting her in line at Pfaffs and got arrested for it

Vincent: Fortnite danced her way out of getting killed by a rival drug dealer. Got scammed out of 40$ by a crystal seller while on acid cuz she was told her “vibes were bad”

Francis/Vincent: Vince tried to force Francis to bathe and as a result ended up flooding the apartment

Jack: i honest to god can’t think of anything he would do that would be ridiculous…he’s too CoolTM for this question i think lol. but he WAS there during the whole Vincent dancing incident and he just let that shit happen

3. who would be the worst kid to baby sit?

FRANCIS. FRANCIS 100% (backed up by JJ)

4. who would kill each other if they were left alone as the last two people on earth?

Lamia and Azel for FUCK sure. Lamia wouldn’t give a fuck if she was the last person on the planet, she’s taking revenge no matter what

5. worst take someone could have about se or any of the characters that would make you lay in the earth until the heat death of the universe? what about the best take that would fully ascend you to Best Weather Boy aka god

worst take: SO MANY TBH… part of me feels like yea this is vague and i actually do wanna answer this in a more serious/nuanced way so i’m gonna do a long hard think abt it and hopefully come back with actual answers…but meanwhile have these fake horrible SE takes that @bloody-hugs came up with:

best take: honestly i dunno…like people just coming away from this story learning something new abt themselves or realizing something or just enjoying the story trying to come up with theories and their own headcanons abt the characters like. i don’t think there’d be a “best take” in regards to a story like this but ummm i just want people to enjoy it uwu that’s how i complete my ascension to godhood

[actress4him]

March Trope-A-Thon Day 5

I don’t normally post two fics in one day but I’m trying to catch up a little haha.

More comf for Lili, which everyone loves to demand!

Taglist: @darthsutrich , @inky-whump , @painful-pooch , @pigeonwhumps , @bookworm2107

Previous | Next | Querencia Masterlist

Fandom: Original Work

Prompts: Fevers, Cold/Flu, Blankets and a Hot Drink

Notes: Takes place between chapters 12 and 13. Can be seen as a sequel to this snippet.

Contains: lady whump, cold and fever, reference to past homelessness, reference to noncon drugging

.

.

Liliana knew it was coming for a whole day before it fully hit. Her throat had been scratchy when she woke up, becoming actually sore by evening, but all she’d known to do was drink a glass of orange juice and ignore it.

That’s what she’s trying to do this morning, too, despite the fact that she woke up unable to breathe through her nose at all and feeling like she hadn’t slept in days. Part of her wanted to curl up and attempt to go back to sleep, but she had a feeling it wouldn’t work and knew she should get up and eat something, anyway. The team worked so hard to get her stomach used to normal meals again, she doesn’t want to throw all that away.

So she gets up, and dresses in the warmest things she can find - a pair of sweatpants and a long sleeve tee that Nari bought for her on their shopping trip, some fuzzy socks that had randomly appeared on her bed one day, and a hoodie that used to be Alex’s and therefore swallows her whole. She’s tried to give it back to him multiple times, and he refuses to take it. Then she ventures out of her room and shuffles toward the kitchen, glad to find it empty.

She’s not really hungry. Despite the number of options on hand which still blows her mind some days, nothing really sounds good. She pours herself another glass of orange juice and sits at the kitchen table sipping it, trying to decide what she can stomach that she actually has the energy to make, and coming up blank. Even making a piece of toast seems like too much work when she’d also have to get out butter or jam to spread on it.

Finally she forces herself to pour a quarter of a bowl of dry cereal and sits back at the table, picking at it with her fingers and staring out the window at the river rolling peacefully by.

“Oh hello, Liliana, I didn’t know you were in here.” Quinn smiles pleasantly at her as he enters the kitchen. “You’re usually already done with breakfast by now.”

She puts on a smile of her own, though she can tell how weak it looks. “I slept late this morning.”

He just hums and nods, but gives her a long sideways look before opening the refrigerator. “Are you feeling alright today?”

Shoot. She’d been hoping no one would notice, or that she could stay hidden in her room most of the day and not encounter anyone. Swallowing her cereal and trying not to grimace at the pain in her throat, she searches for a good answer. “I-I’m, um…tired today, I, I guess.”

Quinn sets the egg carton on the island counter and stares at her. She tries not to squirm under his scrutinizing gaze. “Are you sure? I don’t mean to pry, but…you sound like you might be sick.”

Liliana shrugs, suddenly finding her glass of orange juice incredibly interesting to look at. “Y-yeah. Maybe, maybe just a-a cold. Nothing to worry about.”

He hums again. “I’m sorry to hear that. Are you running a fever, or anything?”

“Probably? I-I feel…cold. And, and warm. So…” She shrugs again, as if that gesture alone makes everything less of a problem.

A few seconds later, he walks up and sets a thermometer on the table next to her. “We should keep an eye on it, make sure it doesn’t go up too high.”

For a moment she just stares at it, trying not to think about her mamà snuggling up next to her to hold her still while they waited for the thermometer to beep. She wants to say that it’s fine, she survived a cold on the streets without knowing what her temperature was or taking medicine or even having things like hoodies and orange juice to help. She wants to say no thank you, because if they have confirmation that she’s sick they might inject her with unknown medication and quarantine her, like at the facility.

But she obediently picks up the thermometer and takes her temperature, reading the small digital numbers aloud afterward with only slight trepidation. “One-hundred-and-one point four.”

It’s at that exact moment that Nari walks into the room, dressed in workout clothes with a sheen of sweat across her face. “Wait, Lili, are you sick?”

“She is,” Quinn answers for her. “One-hundred-one point four temperature.”

“It’s just a c-cold,” she’s quick to insert.

Nari crosses over to her and crouches down next to her chair. “Poor thing. You sound all stuffed up. Don’t you wanna go sit somewhere more comfortable? We can take your cereal and juice into the living room and get you set up on the couch.”

Liliana is quickly becoming overwhelmed by all this attention. “I-I was, I was j-just going to, to go back to my r-room when I finished. I d-don’t want to, to bother anyone…”

“Oh you can go back to your room if you’d rather. I just thought maybe you’d want to be in the living room where you could watch tv or a movie or something if you got bored, and have company if you wanted it. But that’s totally up to you.”

Watching a movie and having company does sound nice. She’s afraid that that will mean they feel like they have to keep checking on her and doing things for her, though. After considering the pros and cons for a moment, though, she finally slowly nods. “O-okay. The couch is, the couch is fine.”

“Cool! I’ll be right back, okay? I’m just gonna go prep the couch for you. I think Alex and Jamil might be in there playing a video game, but we can kick them out if we need to.”

Before Liliana can protest that, Nari is off, disappearing through the doorway.

“Is there anything that I can get for you?” Quinn asks. “I’m going to scramble some eggs for myself, would you like any?”

She looks down at the cereal she’s barely touched. The protein in the eggs would be better for her. And since he’s already making some… “If…if you don’t m-mind?”

“Not at all.” He sets to work cracking the eggs into the skillet he’d already prepared, humming quietly to himself.

It’s Alex who enters next, a frown on his usually jovial face. “Hey, Lil. Nari said you’re sick.”

She tries to smile at him because he doesn’t look right being so serious. “I-I’m okay. You, you don’t have t-to stop playing your game.”

He shrugs. “Well, if it doesn’t bother you, we might keep playing for a while and just keep the volume down. Is it okay if I touch you?”

The question catches her off guard. “Um…y-yes?”

“Alright, here we go!” Before she can blink, he’s scooped her up out of her chair, carrying her out into the hallway like a baby. “I call this the ‘Xtra Xpress’! Get it? ‘Cause my name’s Xtra…?”

Liliana is too busy remembering how to breathe to respond. She hasn’t been carried since she was a tiny kid. And of course she knows that Alex is super strong and her weight is nothing for him, but the surprise of it still blows her away.

They arrive in the living room, where an anime character is paused mid sword swing on the tv and Nari is arranging pillows on the couch. “I hope you don’t mind, Lili, I snuck into your room and grabbed your pillow. I figured that would be the most comfortable for you. And I’ve got it propped up right now so you can eat, but you can take the others away and lie down whenever you want to.”

Alex settles her carefully down onto the cushions. “Thank you for riding the Xtra Xpress, this is our final stop for the tour.”

“Thanks,” she manages to whisper, scooting herself back against the pillows.

Jamil arrives then with an overflowing armload of blankets. “I raided my closet for all the coziest and softest blankets. Just tell me when to stop.” He begins layering them on top of her one by one, stopping to make sure each one is smoothed out and fully covering her.

“That’s, that’s fine, th-thank you.” It’s just a cold. They’re all being so over-the-top nice to her, spending all this time and energy on her and giving her their own things. She wishes she could tell them to stop, but she doesn’t want to be rude and also…

She kind of likes it. It…feels good, to finally have somebody care about her like this again.

“I’m going to go make you some tea,” Nari announces, dropping a box of tissues onto the couch. She knows Liliana likes hot tea and will try most any food or drink, anyway. “I’ll be back. Boys…” She narrows her eyes and points her finger back and forth between Alex and Jamil. “Behave yourselves and let her rest.”

“We will!” Jamil promises.

“Yes, ma’am!” Alex salutes jauntily, then snatches up the video game controller and plops into an armchair.

Jamil settles down onto the floor in front of Liliana’s feet. “You okay with us playing?”

“Mhm.” She nods a little, and he smiles at her.

It’s only a minute later that Quinn leans over the back of the couch with a plate of scrambled eggs. “Here you are. I believe Nari is making you some Baesuk.”

“Thank you. She, she said something about tea.”

She slowly nibbles at the eggs, half-watching the anime character destroy monsters on the screen. Quinn doesn’t cook much, but he makes decent scrambled eggs. They’re hitting the spot much better than the dry cereal.

The plate has been empty for a few minutes when Nari comes back with a steaming mug of tea. “Here you go! It’s got bae - which is Korean pear - black peppercorns, ginger, and honey. It’s great for colds.” Passing over the mug, she whisks the plate off her lap. “Anything else I can get you?”

“N-no, thank you, you’ve…you’ve done plenty. I, I appreciate a-all of this.”

Nari smiles softly. “Of course, jagiya.” It’s a pet name, like ‘honey’, she’d finally learned. “If you need anything, just…kick this guy in the back of the head to get his attention or something,” she laughs, gesturing at Jamil.

“What did I ever do?” he protests, but also gives Liliana a grin over his shoulder to let her know it’s okay.

Nari leaves, and the only sounds in the room are faint music and effects from the video game. Liliana sips at her tea, the heat and honey soothing her sore throat. She gets through about half the mug before she gets too overwhelmingly tired to stay sitting up any longer.

Twisting around, she attempts to set the mug on the end table, catching Jamil’s attention who jumps up to help. Not only does he take the mug, but he also helps her with the pillows once he finds out her goal.

The video game sounds get even quieter as she curls up and closes her eyes, a tissue clutched in her hand.

[idnek83]

Service With a Smile 1/?

Fandom: Trigun

Rating: Explicit (eventually)

Pairing: Vash/Wolfwood

Tags: Coffee shop au, Vash owns a cafe, Wolfwood is a mystery man, Trans Vash, Getting together, Fluff, Slow burn, Eventual smut, Recreational drug use, Drinking, Vash is self conscious about his scars, afab language

Summary: Vash works at a little coffee shop known as Seeds Cafe, and likes to make his days more interesting by trying to make each of his customers smile or laugh at least once before they leave. He has a 100% success rate... That is, until one day a moody man with a taste for cigarettes and black coffee shows up...

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Read on Ao3

_____________________

Vash smiles as he hands the young woman her drink.

“Sorry! I know you asked for no whipped cream today, but I kind of just put it on there out of habit. I can remake it if you want!”

The woman looks up at Vash , down to the drink, then back up at Vash and smiles.

“You’re way too nice, thank you!” She takes her drink, waves goodbye, and leaves the cafe.

Vash waves back as he pretends not to notice his coworker sighing and rolling her eyes next to him.

“Awfully convenient that you just happen to mess up her order after she was talking about not getting whipped cream because she needs to save money.” Meryl places her hands on her hips and cocks an eyebrow, waiting for Vash to acknowledge her.

“What? No! She just usually gets whipped cream so it’s what I’m used to! It was an honest mistake!” Vash looks down at Meryl, feigning as much innocence as he can despite knowing he’s been caught.

Meryl rolls her eyes again, sighing in exasperation.

“Fine, whatever. My shift is over anyways, so it’s legally not my problem anymore.” She begins untying her apron as she heads for the back of the shop. “Think you could ring me up a small coffee that accidentally turns into a medium frappuccino while I clock out, Mr. Honest Mistake?”

Vash laughs as she leaves the room, then does a very good job of looking busy when Meryl comes back a few minutes later, only to find a frap and a bag of mini croissants sitting on the counter.

“And I suppose this is a botched order of some kind that’ll just get thrown away if I don’t take it?”

Vash hums and shrugs noncommittally, carefully avoiding eye contact.

“I know your family owns the place and all, but can you really afford to give away so many freebies?”

“A happy employee is a good employee, right?”

Meryl sighs, but can’t stop a smile from appearing on her face anyway as she picks up the ‘botched’ order.

“So I suppose that means whipped cream lady is starting tomorrow then?”

Vash laughs as he waves Meryl out, grinning as he watches her leave and braces himself for what is sure to be a boring afternoon.

-

Cafe Seeds isn't exactly popular. It’s tucked away on a side street a few blocks outside of a trendy neighbourhood, meaning it loses most it’s clientele to the more conveniently located (and much pricier) cafes that actually reside within said neighbourhood.

But even if Vash is always a little strapped for cash, he’d take empty pockets and his handful of quirky regulars over a healthy bank balance and hoards of nameless customers any day.

Though, he’d also take a healthy bank balance and a couple more regulars if it were an option...

The day passes in a blur of pleasant monotony, mostly Vash busies himself with cleaning and doing inventory, but a few customers trickle in to distract him briefly.

Vash likes to play a game with his customers, weather they know it or not, where the goal is to make them smile or laugh at least once before they leave the store. An up-sized drink here, a free cookie there, and occasionally some playful banter (the kind Meryl would insist was flirting no matter how hard Vash denied it) for customers who didn’t want anything extra with their orders.

It always worked, his win rate was 100%.

If he was being honest with himself, a small part of the reason he did this was because her knew making sure his customers left the store with a positive impression was good for business, making it more likely they’d decide to come back in the future. But for the most part he just genuinely enjoyed making people smile.

Making coffee might not be his dream job, but it was something he enjoyed well enough, and having the opportunity to make the world feel just a bit friendlier for so many people was something he really cherished.

About 30 minutes before close, the bells above the door ring, snapping Vash out of his boredom induced haze and into customer service mode. He turns away from the dishes he was cleaning and flashes a brilliant smile toward the man entering his cafe.

Vash is pretty sure he’s never seen the guy before: black hair, black clothes, black shades, and a pissed off expression that would make god think twice about crossing him. Definitely not the kind of guy who smiles easily.

But the challenge just makes it more fun.

“Hi there, what can I get for you?”

“Black coffee, biggest size you got.”

“Sure thing! We’ve got a couple different roasts, if you-”

“Just whatever’s strongest.”

“O-oh, of course! Coming right up!”

The man pays without another word and moves down the counter to wait for his drink.

Vash pours the coffee, trying to figure out how to get a guy like this to smile. He obviously doesn’t seem up for small talk, so that's out, and he already ordered the biggest coffee size, and asked for it black, so there's nothing Vash can really do to the drink itself.

Baked goods it is then.

Vash turns and flashes another bright smile towards the man, moving to hand him his coffee.

“Y’know, we’re about to close up, so if you want a muffin or a cookie or something, I’d be happy to throw one in for free!”

Vash has barely finished speaking when the man takes his drink, turns and waves dismissively.

“I’m good. Thanks.”

And just like that the man is gone, bells above the door ringing to let Vash know time was up and he had lost his own favourite game for the first time.

Vash heads home that night sulking, wondering what kind of person turns down free sweets.

-

Vash groans and turns away from the sunlight so rudely sneaking it’s way through the slats of his blinds.

His clock tells him there’s no point in going back to sleep, his alarm will go off in a few minutes anyways, best to just get out of bed now and take those minute to enjoy an extra long shower before heading back to Seeds for the day.

He rolls out of bed and shuffles his way towards the bathroom, keeping himself wrapped in his blanket until the room begins to warm from the heat of the shower water. Once he manages to stumble his way in, he finds himself dozing off in the pleasantly hot water, mind wandering back to the previous evening.

Really though, what kind of person comes into a cafe all by themselves at almost 8pm, just to grab a coffee and leave? And turns down freebies?

Vash is pretty familiar with late night caffeine seekers, but it’s usually stressed out students or tired night workers, both of which are always more than happy for a little chitchat and some free snacks.

Vash takes a deep breath and exhales through his nose, trying to untie the knot of frustration tying itself in his stomach.

Lots of people have late coffee, he reminds himself, for lots of reasons. And lots of people don’t like talking to strangers, and lots of people have strict diets. The guy was just living his life, it wasn’t his fault Vash liked to play silly games, and it wasn’t his fault he had ruined Vash’s perfect record.

He had probably just had a bad day. Sure, he had a pretty scary face, but he didn’t really look like a bad guy. Even with the shades on Vash could see he had kind eyes. Maybe that’s why he wore the shades? To try to make himself look tougher?

He really did look pretty tough though, broad shoulders and thick arms his leather jacket hadn't been able to conceal, artfully messy hair and a bit of rough stubble on his chin and neck, leading down to some rather impressive looking pecs barely concealed by the tight black V-neck he’d had on...

Vash’s alarm blares from the other room, snapping him out of his thoughts.

Right. So maybe he was frustrated by more than just losing his favourite game....

Next Chapter >>

[scrunchylew]

I don’t know what to title this. I haven’t written anything in years and have been inspired after watching The Night Agent. I don’t even know where this will go but I wanted to write something and post it to see if people would be interested. It doesn’t involve Rose. At least not right now. Completely different story line. 🤗 also sorry, it’s kind of long. I got carried away. And apologies for any mistakes!

Part 1:

There were very few things I wanted to be doing on a Saturday night. Sitting in an apartment watching a cat clean itself, listening to loud dance music and waiting to leave this hot shoebox apartment I was currently stuck in, was not one of them. After 5 weeks of desk duty I was finally placed with protection duty. Unfortunately it was specifically protecting one of the most difficult clients you could possibly have as an agent.

Emma Wilson.

Her mother was one of the most well known and loved politicians the country has had since that one guy (whom we won’t name) but there were still those who couldn’t be trusted. This girl refused to believe she needed surveillance but as a 28 year old woman with both parents being politicians, it was required. Especially now that her mother was the president.

It was roughly 11:30 and Emma was getting ready to go out with her friends to a club. A club that I personally would try to steer clear from if I were to be a normal civilian and went out on Saturday nights. Between the drugs and location of the club, I did everything I could to steer clear but alas. Emma was known for attending parties and events in places she had no business going but her friends were often persuading her into attending. She was rebellious and stubborn. Kind of fitting considering she was a daughter to parents in the political spotlight.

So, this meant that there would be double the agents and I just so happened to be the one of them going tonight. My partner, Agent Jenkins was helping along with Agent Parker however they don’t know Emma like I do so I have been tasked with watching her every move.

It had been roughly 2 hours since she had started to get ready and her friend, Alicia, was running in and out of the bedroom and the kitchen. Often carrying a bottle of liquor in her hand. I got up from the hard chair I had been sitting in and went to knock on her door to see when we were leaving.

“Ma’am. Can I get an estimated time that we will be leaving here. My guys have been waiting for about 2 hours.”

She opened the door wearing a skimpy black dress and her blonde hair was loosely curled flowing down her tanned shoulders. Her piercing blue eyes gave me a curt stare.

“You don’t have to call me ma’am.”

“I’m sorry, Ms. Wilson. It’s just habit I guess.”

“Yeah we’ll break out of it. It makes me feel like an old woman.”

Alicia came to the door, already reeking of tequila. “You know, you’re way too cute to be calling her ma’am like an old lady.”

I couldn’t help but to laugh cause she was clearly drunk. My face flushed slightly and I nervously scratched my neck.

“I think we are almost ready. Hey Peter, what shoes should I wear?”

She had never called me Peter. It felt weird. She was holding up two pairs of heels for me to choose from.

“Whichever ones you will feel comfortable in.”

“Ugh you’re being too practical.” She pulled out some strapped high heels in which she would no doubt be taking off later to hand to me to keep up with.

Approximately 5 weeks ago I was navigating the streets of Istanbul until I tore my shoulder trying to catch a guy I had been working for weeks to locate.

My boss, Erin Akers, pulled me out when she got word of my injury and that our guy had fled.

Alicia yelled from down the hallway pulling me out of my thoughts, “vamos a La club yevala!”

From here on the rest of the night was bound to be interesting.

I knew my assignment would be different coming back but I didn’t know I was going to be like secret service detail for the new first daughter. In a way, I felt off about it. Kind of like ‘why me?’. My boss assured me it would be temporary but I had spent almost a month watching this girls every move in the evening. Some nights she would come in, and wouldn’t acknowledge my existence. Almost like her stress from the day kept her in overdrive. There were other nights she would bring me takeout and go directly to her room. I would hear her bedroom TV blasting and the occasional phone call but I mostly keep to myself. I don’t know what she does for her job, just that she works in healthcare. I could easily find out but figured if I knew everything then, conversations would be boring. That is if we ever have conversation. There were things I was certain of though.

She is very mindful of having a routine. After dinner she feeds her cat, tidies up the apartment (as I try to stay out of the way), gets ready for bed, and at 9:30 on a weeknight she is in bed. It explains why her weekends are so crazy. She keeps her apartment spotless and incredibly warm. There have been nights I have considered completely stripping myself to my underwear but I know that would be highly inappropriate. So it sit in her living room most nights, I Watch her complete her routine (but not in a creepy manner) and make sure she’s protected.

——

“Jenkins. Parker. Let’s go over the plan for the night. I’ll go in with Ms Wilson and have you two follow suit. Two other agents will be located at both the entrance and exit. If anything happens tonight, I will have the two of you give me backup. Try to blend in. Don’t make yourself known. Any questions?”

They both nodded and tapped their ear pieces showing they were set for the night. Emma and Alicia were in a car ahead with myself, Jenkins and Parker following closely behind.

Club Yevala was a new club with a secret location and those that went, primarily went for the easy access to drugs. But I only just learned this. Again, not the place Emma Wilson should be socializing but she’s an adult and can make her own decisions as to where she parties.

It was a club that the FBI has been closely monitoring due to potential drug cartels. I know Emma doesn’t do participate as I have heard her tell her friends she’s strongly against drugs, however she plays along and it’s caused her to be in situations she never should be in.

I was wearing my nicest button up and pants with no tie. Trying to fit in with the crowd wasn’t too hard, I just had to make sure my gun and badge wouldn’t show unexpectedly.

I was sitting at a bar stool sipping on a gin and tonic when Emma came up to me. She was sweating but her hair still looked perfect and her face glowed from the sheen of her sweat . She looked great in all honesty.

“Can you hold my bag for like 2 seconds? I don’t trust these bar counter tops.” Her breath smelt strongly of alcohol. I couldn’t help but to laugh to myself at her comment.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Peter, stop calling me ma’am. It’s fucking weird.”

“Sorry Ms. Wilson—“

“And don’t call me that either. Call me Em, or Emma.” Her eyes grew big and she flung her hand around as if to swat off my words.

I nodded to acknowledge her request. Her small bag was sitting in my lap and she was rummaging through it to find something. Finally she found her lip gloss and told me to hold her phone while she applied it. This is what I meant by difficult. She had a friend that could do these things for her but would often ask me. I couldn’t find it in myself to tell her no. I was just the guy who was supposed to be invisible and watching from a distance. Protecting her.

“You see that guy over there?” She pointed to a man dancing in the middle of the floor who had slicked back hair and was wearing a chain necklace and a button up floral shirt. I nodded.

“I’m going to make out with him tonight.”

I grimaced at how close she was to me when she exhaled her plans. Part of me wanted to interject but I couldn’t. Mainly because I kept looking at the guy she was referring to and also because I kept smelling the drinks she had been hammering on her breath.

She sauntered off leaving me with her bag.

“Emma wait!” She couldn’t hear me over the loudness of the music. I knew she had her phone on her. She always tucked it into her dress. Don’t ask how I know that.

What I mean is, I can easily track her if needed and I’m keeping my eyes on her.

She and Alicia were dancing with two men, one of which Emma reported she was going to make out with. I was sipping on my remaining gin and tonic.

“Everything ok Sutherland?” I heard Jenkins in my ear.

“Yeah, all good. Just a little makeup adjustment.” I assumed he had seen me talking to Emma.

As I was sipping my drink I felt a presence next to me. A female, roughly aged 30 was ordering a drink.

“Can I get a rum and coke? And I’ll get him one of what he’s having.”

It took me a second to register she was talking to me.

“Oh no, I’m fine. Thank you though.” She saw me staring looking at the dance floor. I wasn’t going to take my eyes off Emma for long. I knew to keep my distance.

“Is that your girl or something?”

“Huh? Oh no, uhhh it’s my sister. I’m just keeping an eye on her.” That was a horrible lie.

“Well, I don’t think that’s your sister but I do know one thing. She’s definitely trying to make you jealous.”

“Oh…no I don’t think so. She’s just a little drunk.”

“Take it from a girl who has made her ex jealous many times in this place. She keeps looking at you even though she’s dancing with that guy. I know all the tricks in the book. She said she was going to make out with that guy?I heard her tell you that. Please. Look at him. He’s clearly a scum bag drug dealer.” This girl knew her shit. And based on her comments I knew I needed to change my view on what was going on tonight.

Something inside me began to bubble and I didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that it might have actually been jealousy. And this guy. Yeah, he wasn’t getting near her if I had anything to do with it.

Emma was grinding and running her hands through her hair while this guy grabbed her hips and pulled her against him. I couldn’t go running out there and grab her and leave but I knew if I didn’t step in, she’d be drugged and taken to this guys place.

Parts of me grew hot and I don’t think it was the drink. I decided it was time to get out of the club and take her home.

“Jenkins, Parker, I am getting Ms Wilson and we are going home.”

“Everything ok sir?”

“Yeah, I’m just worried about this guy she’s dancing with. Don’t want to risk anything.”

“Copy that. We will meet you out front.”

I walked slowly through the crowd of people to meet Emma and Alicia.

“Emma, it’s time to go.”

“What? No, I’m having too much fun and Alicia isn’t ready to go!”

I let out an exhaustive breath and tried again, this time getting closer to her and wrapping my arm around her waist. The sleazy guy noticed and got closer to us, “we need to get you out of here right now. I’ll explain later.”

She looked me directly in the eyes and I swear I felt her breath catch. “What about Alicia?”

“She can come or get a ride back.”

“Hey man, why don’t you back off her and let us continue having our fun. I’ll make sure she gets home safely.” The guy butted in between us, completely smelling like every alcohol you could think of. He placed his hands on my chest trying to push me away but I’m pretty solid and he was very scrawny.

“Peter, I’m not leaving.”

Another guy stepped in, “hey, why don’t you leave her alone. She doesn’t want to go.”

The situation was getting me heated and I had to think quick. I grabbed my badge and flashed it to the guys, “how about you let me take her or I will report you guys for spiking drinks and have you arrested.”

They both backed off and Emma stormed off the dance floor. I followed behind and moved rather quickly, still holding on to her bag. The ride home was going to be fun.

——

[elstevo]

American Alpha

I wrote this for a writing competition, but I don't remember the prompt. I believe it was a 1,000-word limit.

You wanna know what’s up? I’ll tell you. It’s a setup, and the fix has been in since before you or I was even born, man. This little situation we got here is just the tip of the ice cube, you know? But I don’t sweat it. Look at me, I’m the complete package, a hundred percent pure alpha. That’s why they wanna keep me down, man, because they’re scared. They’re scared, not me. Look at that hand, steady as a rock. This ain’t nothing. I lay it out here or in court or wherever, and I’m out, and then I’m bouncing back ten times as hard. I hope your department got insurance or something because I’m looking at a fat payday outta all this.

Let’s start with the obvious: I’m innocent. Anything I might’ve done is justified under me just taking what I’m owed, what I deserve. I’m a superior specimen. You think this body is all just hard work? Nuh-uh, baby, there ain’t enough hours in the day. This is a product of genetics and intelligence. I 3D chess this stuff. I see dudes chugging protein shakes, and sure, sure a shake’ll help your gains, but I follow that up with a beer. Activate that protein with the yeast. I got a whole program worked out—the SwellSmart System. It combines everything you need to get your body and your mind both as shredded as me, but they won’t let me get it out to the people. The publishers, the gyms, the government, they all make too much money holding people back, and if there were a bunch of me running around, that’s too much pure alpha for the system to handle. This keratin thing y’all are working on is part of it. Check Bosco’s bank records, man. See what shows up ‘cause I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Bosco.

I bet he told you I approached him, but that’s insane ‘cause why would I go to a skinny-ass dude like him, a full-on beta, let alone a cop? Yeah, I knew he was a cop the whole time, man. I’m not stupid. I can read the signs, and anyway, if I wanted to rip someone off, I’d do it myself. I’m swole, but I’m sneaky. I’m like Arnold Schwarzeninja up here. That’s why he came to me. I knew he was a cop first thing. He heard me talking about the fluoride Microsoft puts in the water, and he got that look people too deep in the system get. You got the same look, you don’t even know. He hears me talking wisdom, he sees the gun show, he knows he’s dealing with a primo Hetero sapien, and he wants to hold me down like all the other little people, like little people have always done, man, going back to the Vikings.

He comes to me while I’m benching three-ten, and he’s all “Gosh, those are some darned big muscles,” and “I bet you can satisfy a lady,” and everything going on for like a half an hour, and I’m like “Yeah, water’s wet, dude, so what?” Then he lays out this plan to rip off this drug dealer he knows, score a bunch of keratin on account of the market for K’s really hot, and we can flip it for a sackful. Now, I’m a man of the world and a–what d’you call it?–a vociferous reader, so I know all about keratin, and it’s bad stuff, bro, a horse tranquilizer they use to get you high, but it’s part of the control system, like it literally quiets the animal in you, and I’m not about that. The only things that go in my body are all-natural. Protein. Hormones. Electrolytes. You can’t be pure alpha if you ain’t pure, know what I mean?

So I know right away that Bosco’s setting me up, but just like all them teachers and doctors, he thinks I’m some kinda mormon, like I can’t think circles around him, so I act like I’m interested, tell him I’m always down to hustle. Meanwhile, I figure I can turn this all to my advantage. I play along to get some cash and the drugs, then I flip, not to the cops ‘cause the cops are in on it already, and you’re just gonna stitch me up, but I flip to the media and bust a hole in the control system, get me some attention. Once I get that bit of attention, baby, I’m unstoppable, pure alpha, get word out about SwellSmart, some other ideas I got, and then I get what’s mine.

Besides, this Bosco’s a straight beta and so’s the dealer. I got a cousin in the drug game, and no I’m not gonna tell you his name, and he knows the mark, gave me the nine-one-one, said he’s nothing but a skinny punk, beta for real. Hey, it’s a doggy-dog world, and betas are there to feed alphas. It’s food chain science, you know? I’m actually doing them both a favor by teaching them a lesson about their true place in the world. Bosco’s a pawn in the machine, just a simple dude, so he’s got a simple plan. He says he’s gonna set up the buy for a whole buttload of keratin down in this alley over by Belmont, and I know it’s the right spot ‘cause my ex used to work at the pet store right there before the signals in her phone closed her mind to the truth I was teaching. I guess not everyone’s ready. Anyway, I always thought it’d be perfect for shady business if I rolled that way. Plan is Bosco goes there to meet the guy, and when they make the exchange, I pop out of nowhere and do a judo on the dealer, knock him right out, so we can take all his money and the K, then we split up. I stash my cut at my place, and first thing next morning, I’m on the phone to every TV station and newspaper in the state, and I know Bosco can’t do a damn thing ‘cause it was all his idea, which is entrappism, and that’s the truth. I don’t care what kinda fake “evidence” he says he’s got ‘cause I’m too smart to incinerate myself.

The day comes, and Bosco’s nearly peeing his pants he’s so nervous. Me, I don’t get nerves. Look at that hand, like a rock. I’m stone cold, dude, comes with being pure alpha. I drive us out there ‘cause Bosco’s too wired, but everything goes off sweet. While Bosco’s jabbering and stammering with the dealer dude, I get so close I’m basically in his hoodie with him, and I judo the hell out of the guy, just bam, and he’s on the floor, and Bosco’s all “That was incredible! I could never do that! You’re so alpha!” and I’m like “Whatever, let’s get this done,” so we clean the guy out, all his pockets and his car, the works, and we bounce. I call my cuz Riley Rhodes, and he tells me the dude's raging, didn't see who hit him. Perfect-o!

Later that night, I’m dead asleep when I hear someone in the apartment, and I’m up, I’m awake, I got reflexes like you wouldn’t believe. I go investigate, dukes up, ready to throw down, and I see Bosco snooping around like this son-of-a-bitch is trying to rip me off or set me up worse or some kinda nonsense. I’m about to jack him right up when boom, all your SWAT boys pile in, yelling and waving pieces, and I can take them, but I surrender peaceful-like ‘cause they’re just waiting for an excuse, you know? They probably got orders from the top to take me out if they can ‘cause I’m all kinds of dangerous. Meanwhile, Bosco mixes in with the crowd like he’s been there the whole time, the little beta rat.

So here we are, and, you know what I say? Come at me, bro, whatever you got. What, Bosco’s word and some Disney deepfake you cooked up? Your jury strung out on fluoride and moon dust till they swallow anything you sell ‘em? Bring it on, man! I’m pure alpha, I’m SwellSmart. I’m Superman like you don’t even realize, so get your house in order ‘cause I’m crashing it all down, man, just a matter of time ‘cause you can’t stop the truth train, baby, and I’m the ultimate alpha conductor, like choo-choo, you hear me, bro? Choo. Choo. Next stop—the classroom, let me show you how an alpha gets it done, talking pure alpha bringing it down, gonna get what’s mine, you hear? I’mma get what I’m owed, and then I’m not even started yet, bro, not even close. Bringing SwellSmart. Total package. Blowing up. United States of Alpha, you feel me?

That’s what’s up, baby, yeah. Believe that.

[addictwoapen]

straight women, gay bars

I had a conversation with my roommate who attended a bachelorette party over the weekend, and they obviously went out with the intention to get absolutely shitfaced. Nothing wrong with that. Typical bachelorette party shenanigans.

However, she mentioned going to the gay bars one night. Now this was a group of around six straight women. I personally feel like this is not the space for straight women that they think it is. When I mentioned that I think I don’t like the idea of straight women infiltrating queer spaces, she immediately got defensive, and I felt the need to defend myself and queer communities despite my confused sexuality that has been unlabeled for many years. This is a friend I deeply trust, but I felt immediate worry and fear when she said “why?” with a bit more harshness than I was prepared for. I immediately said “well I don’t know how to voice it, and I feel like I have to do more research to figure out what exactly about it doesn’t sit right with me, but I don’t think the space is for straight women”. 

Trust me, as a woman I understand that there are many bars and places that are unsafe for women no matter your sexuality. I have been threatened and cat called, and I know many women who have been raped, assaulted, and drugged at bars typically deemed “straight bars”. However, I think the “safe” feeling straight women feel at gay bars heavily disregards queer women’s struggles to be authentic in a place originally meant for queer women that has become overrun with straight women.

I went to the internet to see if there were any articles written by queer people about this topic to gather my thoughts and I found this article written by Miz Cracker called “Beware the Bachelorette! A Report from the Straight Lady Invasion of Gay Bars”. And that really lent some perspective. It’s not that straight women are not “allowed” at gay bars, but it has a lot to do with the reason those bars exist in the first place, and the need for space for people, especially queer women, to have their own atmosphere free (or as free as possible) from judgment. There are not many lesbian bars in the US as a whole, and the need for these queer spaces is high. Especially when anti LGBTQ legislation is attempting to be and is currently being passed in important areas of our government. 

One thing Miz Cracker brought up in her article was that there are many straight women who behave just fine and don’t cause a stink, and these people are not the problem. But to me it feels like a statement that they feel is necessary to make as to not make the straight crowd upset. Kind of a “not all straight women” comment in a way. Homophobic people have no problem telling queer people when spaces aren’t for them, and I don’t think it would be out of line for queer people to emphasize that gay bars of varying types are for the queer crowd, not a fun little “get away” for straight women to use as the primary location for bachelorette parties. 

The defensiveness of my friend who I consider a staunch ally that has always been pro-LGBTQ was surprising, and I think it reminded me that sometimes straight women have a hard time recognizing that just because they are a woman does not mean that every exclusive space is for them to be a part of. Especially when spaces for queer women are so limited in quantity in the first place.

[maggicktouched]

Get out of there! Angrboda screamed in the back of her mind. Beck physically winced from the intrusion, but she was completely frozen. There was bile at the back of her throat, and the only part of her that seemed to have no issue running a thousand miles an hour was her own fucking heart. Her feet fell from the table to the floor, and she sat up a bit straighter. Did it even matter if they knew they were getting to her if they already knew so much? Did it matter if there really was any such thing as “hard evidence” in the face of the knowledge that she could change forms? They would drug her, drag her off somewhere, try to take her apart to see if they could find anything.

“I’ve been smoking since I was thirteen, lady. I think I’m fine.” But the cracks were showing in her demeanor. Her tone wasn’t so smooth, the confidence in her eyes was wavering. For a long moment after that she stayed silent, her jaw locked in place, desperately trying to think of the smart thing to do in this situation. She had worked her way out of worse spots, but the trick was not to panic. 

“Ok. I want my goddamn lawyer.” She said, throwing up her hands in an exaggerated display of exasperation. Her attention turned to the man even as she pointed at the woman. “Do I look like a dog to you? Do you see my bushy tail or pointy ears? No. This woman is clearly mentally unstable, and I refuse to entertain nonsense. It has to constitute as some kind of harassment. No. No. I’m not saying another fucking word. You get my attorney in here, or I’m not saying shit.”

She neatly crossed her arms, then one leg over the other, and refused to look at this strange woman who was searching so sincerely for something inside of her that wasn’t there. At least the man seemed to be oblivious. But without looking at her, Beck pushed her own thoughts out of the boundaries of her own head and into the woman’s.

I don’t know what the hell you’re doing, but you can’t do it here. If I don’t get out of here before someone else finds me here, it is going to be bad. People will get hurt, and I don’t want that. Help me get out of here and then we---just you and me---we can talk.

Forward? Flashing a look of confused disgust at her daughter, and wondering why she was talking this way, why she was behaving like this at all, she turned her attention back to Mulder. While he could be absurd and far-reaching, and ever prone to trying to prove his point to her about whatever new theory he had, and even the way his humour could sometimes run, she knew that he would never push something when he could see how it was effecting her; he wouldn't upset her, and he certainly wouldn't put their child at risk. Something was wrong.

"Mulder," she put her hand on his arm, her thumb pressing into the muscle slightly, silently showing her urgency and her sincerity. "If this is a joke or you're trying to prove something, I need you to tell me." She stepped closer, her blue eyes looking deeply into his as she searched his expression for any flicker of a sign. "Do you really not know who this is?"

"Wendy Putts," he replied. "Our suspect." It was now his turn to look into her eyes, looking for answers. "Scully, are you alright?"

"No, I...something is going on here," she whispered, practically hissing the words to him in case someone was listening, that whoever was responsible for all this was watching them.

"Like what?" He asked, before looking over at Beck, distracted by her backchat. "Did you just call me a jackass?"

"She's getting defensive because she's scared," Scully told him, before turning to her daughter. "You know better than to smoke. You know how bad that is for your health? What it does to your lungs, as well as the added risks specifically for women? The cancers the female body is prone to by smoking?" Giving her a look of heavy disappointment, she shook her head a little, and then tried to focus. Something was wrong here, terribly, and she didn't know what. She didn't even know where to begin with a theory.

Taking a breath, she slipped into the chair on the opposite side of the table to Beck and looked at her sincerely.

"I know you didn't do anything wrong and I know you're probably very worried that someone might find out what you can do, but I need you to focus for me, Beck, and I need you to over-ride whatever it is, whatever drug or suppressant, that is making you-- and Mulder-- forget." She reached out for her hands but then hesitated, dreading that Beck might pull back, that the rejection would make it feel like this was something more than a chemical control of the brain's memory links, a possible drug targeted the hippocampus perhaps, and that she had lost her daughter.

"Look at me." She waited for the inevitable eye contact. "I remember when you were a little girl and you were so scared when you changed into a fox that I wouldn't want to keep you, that I wouldn't want to be your Mother. I told you we were going to be a family and nothing would change my mind about that. And sometimes, when I had to work late or away, my Mother would look after you and you would always go missing and Mulder would have to get you from the lake. I remember watching you grow up into a beautiful, strong, capable woman, a daughter I am so proud of. I can't believe there's anything that could erase that. So please," her voice was a hoarse whisper now as she looked into Beck's eyes as she looked into Mulder's. "Try to remember."

[trashmouth-richie]

TWIN FLAMES

PART 2: Falling

Summary: Steve! how could you forget him?! Robin and Steve come looking for y/n ! A deal is made between people who have just met. ALSO a surprise towards the end. Muahaha

<w/c> 4k (2/??)

Pairings: Eddie Munson x female!Reader, Gareth x Carrie Woodly (oc)

Warnings: MINORS: DNI / smut, kissing, throat grabbing, fondling, cheating, drug use, alcohol use, vomit.

A/N: annnd we’re back! Thank you for the love on Part 1! thank you always to @boomhauer for helping me figure this all out! GIVE ME ALL YOUR FEEDBACK I LOVE IT.

masterlist

———————————————————————————

Your lips are like soft magnetic pillows, pulling him in. Eddie can’t hold back any longer, a deep burn in his belly driving him towards them like a sort of primal instinct.

“I don’t know what kind of magnetic pull the universe is doing right now princess, I’ve been fighting this since the moment I laid eyes on you, and —fuck I can’t fight it anymore.” Eddie whispers

This is too forward, Eddie thinks. You’re going to turn tail and run straight out of the van yelling for help.

A part of him knows deep down that you won’t turn away, a part of him knows that you feel this same cosmic connection that is radiating through his veins and out of his skin.

Eddie had his first kiss back in freshman year. A girl named Janice from two towns over was with her dad visiting Uncle Wayne. Wayne and her dad were high school classmates and had joined a bowling league with some other buddies. Every Friday night Janice and her dad drove the forty miles one way to Hawkins. The guys would have a few beers and head out to the bowling alley, Eddie and Janice ordered pizza and rented a movie. Every Friday for two months this was their routine.

Eddie was nervous at first to be spending time alone with a girl his age having spent a 30 minute detention with Tammy Thompson being his only other time being somewhat alone with a girl, and she ignored him the entire time, her “Miss Piggy” nose stuck high in the air. Janice had blonde curly hair and braces. She laughed at all his stupid jokes and admired the way he played his guitar. On the last night of bowling league for the year, Janice had kissed him, it was quick and she tasted like cheese pizza and Pepsi. Even though it was fast, and he never saw Janice again after that night— Wayne had to quit the bowling league after he was offered a better position at the plant on night shift— Eddie never forgot it. Thinking about it every night for at least a year, he thought that was the coolest thing to ever happen to him.

Until now.

You surprisingly lean in, and Eddie attaches his lips to yours. Pure bliss, the words outlining themselves in red on a black canvas in his mind. A million different sensations hit him all at once like a freight train. You smell like freshly made sugar cookies that the school cafeteria sometimes had. Or when Jimmy’s old lady would bring treats for the guys at the garage after a long work week. Your lips taste like vanilla icing straight from the container. Your hair, soft and satiny, Eddie has never felt something so delicate in his life. He never wants to let you go, the thought of it a nightmare striking against the sky. You are everything to him and more, Eddie has been longing for this affection for too damn long, and now that he has it, has you, the jaws of life wouldn’t be able to tear him away.

—————————————————————————

Your lips are pulsing with greed, wanting more of Eddie. Needing more of Eddie. His lips part and you slip your tongue against his lower lip, a low groan escaping him. Your hands fly to his hair, it's so much longer than Steve’s.

Steve.

Steve Harrington.

Your boyfriend Steve Harrington, who is ALSO attending this party and is probably less than thirty feet away from you at this very moment! How the fuck could you forget about your own boyfriend? Holding onto Eddie’s shoulders you climb into his lap, straddling him. How hard did you hit your head anyway? Eddie’s large hands wrap around your waist and are tickling their way up your back under your shirt. How could you be kissing another guy?! Oh God but he tastes so good. What the hell is wrong with you?!

Oh no no no no no. This is beyond bad. How are you supposed to tell Eddie that although he is amazing and so devilishly handsome that he did nothing wrong, and you want every part of this and more, but you have a boyfriend?

Better pull the bandaid now before your clothes come off.

You hastily pull away from him catching your breath. Eddie’s eyes are blown with lust, his lips somehow fuller and puckered red.

“Eddie, I’m- I’m sorry I— have to go.” You climb out of his lap and fix your shirt and hair.

“W-What did I do?” Eddie asks quietly behind you, his head hung low like someone took the wind out of his sails. “I thought you were into me?”

You spin around to face him, grabbing his face with both hands making him look at you.

“Eddie baby, you didn’t do anything wrong— I, I — fuck, I have a boyfriend— I don’t know how hard I hit my head but I wasn’t even thinking about him. I am into you— I’m so into you I don’t know what to do, please I need to get my head straight, th—This isn’t your fault, you were everything a gentleman should be— you’re so fucking hot— oh God— I’m a piece of shit, I’m ruining two peoples lives in one fucking night— I’m sorry I have to go.” tears stream down your face as you practically yell that to him. You wipe your tears as you climb out of the van and in that moment you aren’t sure if it’s because you are hurting Steve or Eddie.

“Wait!…y/n! Wait! Wait!” Eddie calls after you, you stop just short of the front of the van and turn around.

“Eddie— I can’t, I-” you begin before Eddie’s lips interrupt you. Again, it’s like a lightning strike, like static electricity in the winter when you wear wool socks and rub your feet on the carpet. He wraps his arms around your waist pulling you into him. He gently pulls back and brushes your hair behind your ear.

“Please just listen to me before you run away,” he starts with his eyes starting to glisten.

“I, I don’t know what overcame me tonight but I don’t usually do this sort of thing. Girls do not bat an eye towards me in this shitty town so I’m sorry if I came on too strong, I’m just— I can’t explain it but I’m trying to… it’s just— when you— when I saw you leaned against that post and brought you to my van I knew that something was different, with me and with you. This pull or whatever it is between us is something I’ve never experienced before and I know you know what I'm trying to say because, no offense sweetheart, but you don’t seem like the type of girl to just make out with a guy you just met in a shitty van.”

He lets out a small chuckle and you do too, ugly crying and all but he doesn’t care.

“I know you have a boyfriend but I don't give a shit. I mean I do, and it kinda sucks a lot. But out of respect for you and for him, I will wait for you. I will wait for you y/n, however long it takes, I’ll be here”.

Tears fall from your eyes and Eddie rubs the pads of his thumbs along your cheeks to wipe them away. You can’t believe this is happening. You have managed to cheat on Steve and have almost little to no remorse for it. But why? Certainly if Steve were to do what you did to him you would be devastated. Heartbroken… at least you think you would be. But in this moment you don’t know how it would feel, mostly because you only have one thing on your mind, one guy on your mind, one single pair of brownie mix colored eyes on your mind.. and it’s not Steve.

You press yourself into Eddie and give him a long kiss. “Oh here! Hang on!” Eddie says quickly.

He pulls you towards the van flinging the passenger door open, diving head first into the glove compartment, his pants are hung low and you can see his red checkered boxers poking out, you give his cute little butt a squeeze and he jumps slightly banging his head against the dash.

“hey hey hey! I’m trying to be a gentleman here but you’re not making it easy” He jokes as he emerges out of the van with a Sharpie and a playful smile upon his lips.

He sticks his arm out and hands the Sharpie to you.

“So, if you’re into me like I’m thinking you are, write down your number, If you’re not into me give me a fake number and I’ll take the hint when I try to call it.”

Of course you’re into him, is he insane? Without giving a second thought you grab his left arm scooting yourself into him so your back is to his chest, you scrawl out your number on his forearm adding a little black heart and a flame. You gently lean forward and blow on the fresh ink on his arm helping it dry quicker.

“Jesus Christ sweetheart, you have got to behave or I will throw you over my shoulder and fuck you inside that barn for everyone to see.” He says with a groan.

You have never been much of a tease, but Eddie’s confession has given your core it’s own heartbeat, aching through your legs and up your chest. You turn his hand over and bring his rings to your lips gently, kissing each one. You place his ring adorned hand sliding up your thigh through the valley of your breasts and landing firmly against your throat, you lean your head back against his shoulder, arching your back and pushing your ass in his crotch.

“Y/n —Fuck, you’re gonna kill me” he moans into your ear. He begins placing wet kisses down your neck. His arms traveling to your tits squeezing them ferociously sending vibrations through your entire body. A small moan leaves your lips as you claw at the back of Eddie’s hair dragging him closer to you. And just like that the thoughts of hurting Steve and being upset about it are gone. What the hell is happening?

A distant voice is heard calling your name.

“Fuck!” You hiss.

“I know baby, you got me so fucking wound up right now I’m gonna cum in my—.” Eddie groans into your neck.

“No, listen!” you whisper, cutting him off, Eddie stops deadpan, his lips still on your neck.

“Is that?! Ste—” he starts.

“Yeaaaah, I gotta go,” you twirl around facing him, “I promise that’s my real number,” You say poking him playfully in the chest and grabbing a fistful of his shirt forcing him down to your level.

Your lips ghost delicately over his as you whisper, “you better call me tomorrow, pretty boy”. You flick your tongue slowly against his lips for one last taste of sin, leaving Eddie rock hard against the zipper of his jeans.

—————————————————————————

Steve Harrington?! She’s dating fucking Steve Harrington? Christ almighty. Eddie stands in disbelief as he watches you run around the side of the barn— away from the door.

Steve is walking fast out of the barn with Robin Buckley on his heels. He looks frantic and his face is screwed up in a painfully concerned look. His eyes are sweeping across the outskirts of the barn looking for any sign of her. Eddie almost feels bad for him.

“Y/n!” They both call.

Eddie nonchalantly walks to the back of his van slamming the doors and pushing his hands in his pockets. He needs to find Gareth and Jeff and get the hell out of here.

“Hey Munson!” Steve calls out to him.

Fuck, play it cool Eddie you weren’t just feeling up this guys girlfriend, nope not you.

“Hey man, sorry I’m all out of eightballs but I do have a few blunts left” Eddie says with a grin.

“What? No! I’m looking for my girlfriend! Have you seen her?!” Steve yells.

“Yeah, right behind ya man.” Eddie says, pointing to Robin.

“I’m not his girlfriend you fucking freak, she’s about this tall, long hair, was wearing faded jeans and a black shirt? Have you seen anyone look like that?” Robin yells back at him crossing her arms across her chest.

“Nah man, I’ve just been out here in my van, dealin’ and smoking my own supply.” Eddie says with a shit eating grin.

“Cool. Real cool, who comes to a party and stays by themself all night?” Steve says getting more and more irritated.

“Probably the same kind of guy who lets his girlfriend get lost at a party.” Eddie shoots back.

Steve places his hands on his hips and runs his tongue over his teeth. Letting out a deep breath.

“Alright testosterone city, let’s go. Maybe Dustin saw her” Robin says with a hand on Steve’s shoulder pulling him out to the field where Dustin and Jeff were.

Eddie makes a mad dash into the barn following the smell of weed. He almost knocks over a beer can tower on his way, apologizing quickly to Mike and Jonathan. He finally finds Gareth, perched atop a shitty green couch with a girl on each side of him, one kissing him so sloppily it could make a sloppy Joe jealous. The other looking as if she was going to puke at any moment.

“Ahem, Gareth?” Eddie says clearing his throat loudly.

Gareth opens his eyes seeing Eddie but doesn’t stop kissing the girl. With his eyes he motions for Eddie to get lost. Eddie shakes his head and cocks his head towards the door pointing to his watch. Gareth rolls his eyes and gently pushes the girl off of him.

“Come on man, I know you don’t have a fucking curfew!”

Gareth says, wiping his mouth with his hand.

Before Eddie can retort, the girl on Gareth’s right turns her head and pukes all over the side of the couch.

“Sorry babe I gotta go,” Gareth says all to happily and practically jumping up and leaving. “Call me” he motions to the girl as she holds her friends hair while she pukes again.

“Alright fuckwad this better be good, I never thought you of all people would be a fucking cockblock!” Gareth seethes into Eddie’s ear as they shuffle their way out of the barn.

They rush past Mike and Jonathan who are now reinforcing the tower of beer cans while El raises more into the air, wiping at her nose. Lucas is holding a very drunk Max protecting her away from anyone trying to lurk around and be a creep.

“We gotta find Jeff and get out of here, like now.” Eddie says to a stumbling Gareth.

“Well what happened? Is it Jason?” Gareth asks.

“No, not him. Just hurry we gotta find Jeff and leave!”

In five minutes time they find Jeff, drag his drunk ass into the van, and head down the gravel road, kicking up dust and rocks behind them.

“Are you gonna tell me why we left the party like you had shit yourself? Of course unless you did?” Gareth says snidely to Eddie, a small smile creeping onto his face.

“Haven’t shit my pants since I was baby, so nah that’s not why we left in a rush” Eddie laughs.

“Well then what the fuck man? I was with Carrie Woodly, you know I’ve been after her for years! I finally shoot my shot and then we have to leave?!” Gareth yells across the van.

“Dude, her friend blew fucking chunks all over the place no matter if I showed up or not you would not have gotten laid tonight— that’s girl code.” Eddie says with a grin.

“HENDERSON— HE’S DOING MY HOMEWORK FOR A WEEK WHEN SCH-(hiccup) SCHOOL STARTS!” Jeff screams from the back of the van. Eddie is driving so fast Jeff is being tossed around like a stuffed animal.

“Look man, I’m sorry I just didn’t want to get my ass kicked, I mean for her I would no questions asked. But maybe not while she is there to see it.” Eddie trails off to himself.

“Who are you talking about? You didn’t talk to a chick all night, the only person I saw you with was Will Byers, and he wouldn’t beat you up even if you asked him too.” Gareth says with a confused look on his face.

“Jesus Christ” Eddie mutters under his breath, “Listen! I met a girl tonight, she’s not from Hawkins, we really hit it off, I’m talking hot and heavy like a ‘57 Chevy type of shit. But it was more than that. It’s complicated. Oh and she uh— she has a boyfriend! And not just anyone but Steve fucking Harrington!” Eddie says in almost one breath.

“STEVE HARRINGTON! You fucked Steve Harrington’s girlfriend?!” Gareth and Jeff shout together.

“No- we didn’t, Steve showed up and she ran off but not before giving me her number.” Eddie raised his left arm in the air like he was winning an award.

“Damn Munson! You’re a dirty dog!” Gareth hoots and hollers.

“It’s not like that man, I’m really into her. I can’t stop thinking about her.” Eddie says almost shyly. He gazes out of the windshield thinking of you, counting the hours until tomorrow when he can call you and hear your voice.

—————————————————————————

It was an awkward ride home after Steve and Robin find you. While waiting on the side of the barn you notice the younger boy from earlier making his way back from the house. Damn that house must be miles away you think to yourself. You run up to him and grab him dragging him beside the barn with you.

“Hey uh, if anyone asks I was with you the entire night, I fell, you helped me to the house and cleaned me up. Then we walked back to the barn, got it?” You ask him.

“…o-kay.. well what’s in it for me?” Will eyes you suspiciously.

“What?” You almost yell at the boy. What the hell does he mean? What’s in it for him?

“Listen I don’t give a shit what or who you’re trying to lie to but I at least want something out of this, and before you ask I mean weed not sex or anything like that!” Will says.

“Yeah okay fine I’ll talk to Eddie whatever. Just remember the plan. I was with you all night!” You say hurriedly.

You are about to walk inside when you see Eddie walking fast with a younger boy with thick, wavy, blonde hair. They walk out to a field, and you decide it’s now or never. You make your way back inside with Will by your side. The first thing you see is Billy Hargrove with a different girl than before. They are practically humping in front of everyone, just as you turn away to keep looking for Steve, the girl pulls away from Billy to catch her breath. Wait is that, NANCY WHEELER?!

You look over at Will and his face contorts into disgust.

“Oh Nancy, you can do better than him!” Will yells out to her. He lets out a laugh and shakes his head trying to get the image out of it. He spots Steve and waves him down.

You tell Steve all about what had happened, well the made up version you and Will only knew about. Steve’s face goes from scared to worried.

“Oh my God, honey I’m glad you’re okay!” He says sweeping you into a hug and placing a kiss on your forehead. But the electricity is not there, no rush of static, nothing but his firm lips hitting your head like a ton of bricks. He fist bumps Will and whispers a thank you to him before taking you out to the car.

The whole ride home Steve and Robin talk about how they looked for you but only found Munson, how he was completely rude to them and was acting like a jackass. At first you don’t put it together, after all Eddie never did tell you his last name. It’s Robin who finally uses his full name and you almost choke on your spit.

“You okay?” Steve says one hand on the wheel the other on your leg rubbing it reassuringly.

“Yeah my uh—my head just hurts a lot, listen I know we were supposed to stay the night at your house tonight but I would really just like to go home and sleep.” You say to Steve adding a little pained expression to your face to really play it up.

“Of course y/n, whatever makes you feel more comfortable” Steve grabs your hand and kisses it lightly.

Immediately your mind flashes back to just shy of an hour ago when you were kissing Eddie’s fingers, his mouth on your neck, hands groping your tits twirling your nipples through your bra—pull it together y/n! Steve is right fucking here!

You clear your throat and rest your head on the door, letting your mind wander thinking of Eddie.

Robin fell asleep on the way home and Steve had to quite literally scream in her face to get her up. The drive back to Bridgeport seemed like it took 8 hours. You decided to pretend to be asleep so You wouldn’t end up tattling on yourself.

Steve lifts you from the car into your house, going up the stairs to your room, he removes your shoes and tucks you in bed, leaving some aspirin and a glass of water on your nightstand. He places a small kiss on your cheek and walks out of your room turning off the lights and locking the door as he leaves.

You felt bad, you know you did. Steve deserves an explanation, deserves to know how you feel, but truth be told you don’t know how you feel. Are you really willing to drop almost 19 years of friendship and a relationship for a guy you just met tonight?

The answer should be obvious, and for anyone else in this situation it would be. Your future is right ahead of you all set up. The trust funds are waiting, the fancy house, the promising careers for both you and Steve. But it felt wrong, it felt forced. Not by Steve but by your parents. Since toddlerhood they had been pushing you both together. This isn’t a Disney movie, you’re not betrothed to Steve. You are your own person, but recently it seems like you are always known as we, you and Steve. Steve and you. You even got the same senior pictures taken, TOGETHER. As cute as it sounded now it just seems eerie. It’s as if a veil has been lifted off of your face for the first time. You are finally seeing clearly. And the answer is easy.

———————————————————————————

[kj-1130]

Accused

criminal minds x black!reader

warnings: murder (typical cm violence), kidnapping, systematic mistreatment, mentions of microaggressions, kidnapping, beating, allusions to suicide, suicide by cop (i think), stabbing, death (lmk if i missed anything)

a/n: this has been in my drafts for idk how long. i wanna say close to a year. anyway there’s probably some very inaccurate shit in there but just ignore it

criminal minds masterlist || main masterlist

     Your leg bounced up and down as you picked at your nails. Despite the extra-large sweatshirt you had on, you were still cold as hell. 

     A group of people literally busted down your door (not that it would be hard to; it was basically rotting) and barged in. They cuffed you, read your rights, and drove you to the station. It was supposed to be a good day. 

     Your hands were cuffed to the table for some reason. You don’t even know what you’ve been accused of. Suddenly, the door opened and in came a woman with brown skin and shoulder length hair. 

      She set down a couple of files in front of you and took a seat. 

      “(Y/n) (L/n); an emancipated minor. Wanna tell me how that happened?”

     The lady rested her palms on a fist as she stared at you. 

     “Not really,” you muttered while shaking your head. 

     She then slid three pictures of three girls who looked to be around your age towards you.

     “Any of them look familiar?”

     You looked at the pictures before shrugging your shoulders. 

     “If they don’t go to my school, I’ve probably passed them on the street before.”

     The woman inhaled a breath before letting out a sigh.

     “These three girls were murdered and somehow, they all connect. To. You,” she said, enunciating the last few words while pointing at the three pictures. 

     You looked up at her bewildered as your leg started to bounce faster. 

     “Y-you think I killed them?”

     She simply raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at you in return. 

     Letting out a nervous chuckle you shook your head.

     “Look. I don’t fuck with feds, I don’t fuck with cops, I don’t fuck with none of the government. Now why the hell would I murder somebody knowing damn well my ass is just gonna get caught?”

     “I know you killed these girls. You bought the same drugs they overdosed on. You have been placed at the same locations they were the same day these girls died. ” 

     “I ain’t kill nobody,” you exclaimed. 

     Tears were streaming down your face and your hands were shaking. 

     You rubbed your nose before setting your head down on the table. 

     “You can lock me up if you don’t believe me. Not like I got anything going for me anyways.”

     The woman was silent for a while before you heard the chair squeak against the floor and the door slammed shut. 

     All you wanted was to be free from this bullshit world. Now you don’t even know if you’re going to lie on your bed or one in a prison cell. 

-

     Tara walks out the room with a heavy sigh. She looks at the two others who were standing outside the room and shakes her head. 

     “Possibility.”

     JJ and Emily let out deep breaths trying to think the whole thing over. This case was beginning to become a hot mess. 

     “I don’t understand,” the blonde starts. The three women were back in the conference room where the others were gathered. “If she didn’t do it, then how the hell does it all come back to her?”

     “Maybe we got a part of the profile wrong,” the genius suggested. 

     The unit chief nods and decides to go back over everything. 

     “So, the three girls who were killed were considered popular. The kills were messy and it was obvious that the unsub was frustrated. That could mean that someone felt wronged by them and it’s an act of revenge.”

     “COD was overdose.” 

     “The phone was shoved down their throats and their thumbs were cut off. Maybe that could’ve symbolized some type of cyberbullying they wanted to silence?” Spencer cut in. 

     Before any more ideas could come through, Penelope was connecting to the screen. 

     “Okay, so I don’t know how I missed this before, but I went on the victims’ mothers’ social media; specifically Facebook. After a little scrolling through each of their profiles, I saw some...interesting things to say the least.”

     Everyone’s phones chimed and what they received could definitely be considered a shock. 

     “We know who the first three from the left are,” the tech analyst starts. 

     “Our three victims,” Luke finishes.

     “Correct, newbie. Now look at the caption and another user is mentioned there.” There was a pause that was filled with the sound of clicking keys. “Click on that and the latest post you see…”

     “(Y/n),” Emily finished. 

     She quickly walked out of the room and made her way back to where their current suspect was being held. 

     “Do you feel like telling us the truth now?”

      Looking up, you stared at the new woman in shock. You were so close to taking a nap considering you were so physically and mentally exhausted. Not just today, but everyday as well.

     “What?” 

     “Did you or did you not,” she pauses to slide the pictures towards you once again. “Know these girls.”

     You honestly didn’t even know what was happening at this point, but you decided to look closer so they could stop bothering and accusing you. 

     You took a deep breath and leaned forward a little. 

     “I told you I might’ve crossed paths with them or maybe they were in one of my classes. Nobody pays attention to me so I don’t pay attention to them. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

     You just wanted to get this over with, sleep and never wake up. 

     “So, what? You did this for attention?”

     “What? No!” You set your head in your hands to the best of your ability. “I don’t know they names, they grade--none of that. I do not know these people.”

     “This picture says otherwise.”

     She slid another picture forward and immediately memories came back to you. 

     6th birthday party for one of your old friends is what the picture showed. 

     You furrowed your eyebrows and cleared your throat. 

     “Th-they were the ones that got killed?”

     “I thought you didn’t know them.”

     You peered at the lady through your eyelashes and saw the scrutinizing glare she was giving you. Immediately, you disconnected your eyes from hers; it reminded you too much of the looks of disappointment your mother would give you. 

     You let out a sigh before leaning back, wondering how the hell you exactly got into this position. 

     “I used to know ‘em. They were my best friends but mysteriously ditched me and started making fun of me once middle school started. They’ve had so much work done it was kinda hard to tell who they were. Plus, I haven’t even looked in their general direction for the past 5 or 6 years; how the fuck was I supposed to know?”

     “So, you’re doing this for revenge then,” the unit chief calmly stated. “You’re trying to make us feel all sorry for you with your sob story and cover up the fact that you did murder these girls.”

      “I didn’t kill anybody!”

     Your leg was bouncing faster than you thought was humanly possible. You laid your head on the table once more and took a deep breath trying to calm down.

     “They’re fucking bullies, maybe somebody else snapped. All I know is that I ain’t do shit.”

      You attempted to lower your heart rate and breathe steadily. You heard the lady leave the room and your leg finally slowed down slightly. 

     It felt like forever when an officer finally came into the room. They roughly grabbed and dragged you out. 

     “(Y/n) (l/n), you are under arrest for the murders of…” 

     It all went quiet after that. You could no longer hear the mummers of the appalled cops. You could no longer hear the reading of your rights. You could no longer hear the grieving cries of the parents that once knew you. 

     All you could hear was the yells inside of your head. The yells that we’re saying ‘they don’t believe you!’ ‘You will never amount to anything!’ ‘No one cares about you!’ 

     But, hey. One less junkie on the street, right? 

-

     This town was fucked. You learned that over the years. Hell, you fell victim to a lot of its shitty qualities. Nobody helped you when you were getting emancipated. No one helped you get on your feet.

     Yes, this town was fucked but you didn’t think it would lead you to prison for a crime you did not commit. But you should’ve seen this coming. Three of the most ‘loved’ girls here were murdered and somebody was going to pay for it. 

     You constantly thought back to the day of your trial--if you could even call it that. The room was practically packed; full of people who wanted to witness the girls’ ‘murderer’ go down and be prepared to rot in a jail cell. 

     There was not one unbiased person sitting in that jury and as the trial ran on, you could feel each and every eye that was staring at you, hoping you’d burn to the ground. You weren’t even sure if they had sufficient evidence to put you away. 

     But here, you guess it’s their way or nothing.

     You’ve done a lot of reflecting in these four walls. Your favorite spot to do so was in the back, left corner. It reminded you of when you would hide from your weird ass parents that sure as hell didn’t give a damn about you. 

     You never liked the government; you were pretty sure you had justified reasons even before now. They don’t give a fuck about common people, especially ‘your kind’ which has been said to you more times than you could count. 

     But now, you loathed it. You wanted it all to just burn to the ground and make every dirty and corrupt cop, politician--whoever feel the anguish you felt sitting in this cell for something you didn’t even do; feel the anguish you had been feeling all of your life. 

     You wanted them to feel like they couldn’t breathe because they were panicking so hard. 

     You wanted them to feel the heaviness in their bones that makes them want to just sleep the years away. 

     You wanted them to be right here, in this prison next to you. Because they deserved it. Every last one of them did. 

     You were angry. And you believed you had every right to be. 

     You were here; getting beat up everyday because you wanted to eat but somebody else just had to have your food. 

     You were here; starving ‘cause nobody gave a shit about you. 

     You were here when you could’ve been out there, trying to clean yourself up and get a job because you wanted at least one person to have a decent memory of you before you ceased to exist.

     All because of some damn accusation.

     “Come on,” a guard muttered before opening your door. “You have a visitor.”

     You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion but still slowly got up and let the officer lead you out. 

      Apparently, your little ‘visitor’ had gotten a private room. 

     Making your way inside, you settled into the chair and came face to face with one of the people who interrogated you however long ago that was. 

     Emily couldn’t help but notice everything about you as you came in. You were smaller, the bags under your eyes were significantly larger, you walked with a small barely noticeable limp… 

     The unit chief cleared her throat and looked you in the eye.

     “How are you?”

     “You don’t care. Nobody does.”

     The woman nodded and pulled out some files, setting them on the table. She took out pictures and lined them up. They were of the three girls you ‘killed’.

     “Three months ago, we were assigned a case and we came to the conclusion that you were our unsub. We were wrong and I’m here on behalf of my team to apologize.

     “About two weeks ago, another string of murders came to our attention that had the same M.O and under further investigation, we found the correct killer”.

     A laptop was then slid in your direction and on it was a video of a girl that looked close to your age. Pressing play, the footage began. 

     “She should be thanking me! I did it for her. I did it for us! We can be together now. She should be here thanking me!”

     That was just 15 seconds of it; there was at least 2 minutes left. 

     “That was Charlotte Greene; claimed to be in love with you and killed your bullies as a profession of love. She thought she was doing you a favor.”

     There was a moment of silence as you stared at the table in front of you.

     “I told you I didn’t do it,” you muttered barely loud enough for the person in front of you to hear it. “I told you I didn’t do it, but no one believed me.”

     A tear rolled down your face as you heard the agent take a sharp intake of breath.

     “I’ll leave you to get ready.”

     The door was opened then closed as the guard came over and gently walked with you to wherever you needed to go.

     You got dressed in the clothes you last wore. You never thought you’d even wear this hoodie again. 

     As you walked out, you felt eyes on you. Probably all of the officers you thought would see you grow old, shrivel, and die eventually. You couldn’t blame them honestly. You thought you would never get out of here either. 

     You practically dragged yourself outside of the exit, too drained from everything to the point where you could barely move your legs. 

     The agent was waiting next to an SUV and was leaning against the vehicle. You continued your way past her and made your way to the gate. 

     “Where are you going?” 

     “You can go fuck yourself.” 

     You sped up and began your walk back to… well somewhere. Who knows if you even had an apartment anymore. 

-

     JJ and Tara were in a gas station, getting some snacks so they and the team wouldn’t be starving while they were at the hotel. As the two of them were grabbing the last of what they wanted, they heard arguing.

     “What do you mean you can’t give me the job?”

     “Look, I just don’t think you’re fit to be working here considering.”

     The blonde turned around the corner and saw a teenager talking to the store clerk. 

     “Man, you were there! You heard me tell them that I didn’t do it. They released me today! You really think they’re gonna let a serial killer run loose?”

     The clerk ran his hand down his face and sighed before starting to walk off, but the teen slammed a hand on the counter. 

     “C’mon, I need this job. Please.”

     “I don’t care if you didn’t do it. You were a part of the reason.” Your face crumpled in distress as the man continued talking. “Now get out of my store before I call the police.”

     The two of you had a stare off for a moment before you stormed out. 

     You didn’t make it far when sobs wracked through your body causing you to lean on the hard brick wall for support. It was like your body shut down; your legs no longer felt like they could carry you and you slid down onto the ground. You tucked your head in between your knees, trying to calm down and get your breathing back to normal. A hand touched your shoulder and you flinched back, rolling your eyes when you noticed who was standing there. 

     “Get away from me.” 

     You stood and wiped your eyes before grabbing your bag and attempting to walk away. 

     “Kid…” the brunette trailed off. 

     “Just leave me alone.”

     You left them behind, heading further down the road, not seeing the concerned glance the two agents shared. 

-

     You don’t know how you ended up here. 

     It was dark, but you didn’t know what time it was. 

     The last time you were here, you said that this was it; you’d never go to this place again. But it seems like all people do is lie to themselves.

     You didn’t need an ID. You didn’t even need to tell them your name. They knew how fucked up life was and gave people this place where they could escape. No one needed to be reminded of the horrors of the world while they were down here. You could just let yourself float. 

     The first thing you were handed was a blunt--that much you know. But next it was two baggies and then another and another and another. 

     They didn’t tell you what was in it. They took one good look at you and decided what you needed for you. 

     They let you stay overnight if you needed to--let you sober up. The next morning they’d give you some cheap frozen breakfast that they heated up in their fancy ass microwave. 

     They let you stay there and mull over your thoughts at the kitchen bar. 

     That was where you made your decision.

-

     You had the head sheriff tied to a chair. He was still unconscious from the sedative you gave him. Your first idea was to hit him over the head with a brick but you couldn’t bring yourself to hurt him despite all the pain he caused you.

     It was honestly pure luck that you got him here alone. The false 911 call you made would’ve had a 25% chance at success if even that. 

     911, what’s your emergency?

     My daddy told me to ask for Sheriff Thamson if this happened again.

     If what happened again?

     Please, please. Just tell him to hurry. I’m so scared. 

     Thamson is on his way sweetie.

     Turns out talking like a little white girl with a southern accent that’s currently in distress can get you just about anything. 

     It was weird watching him wake up. 

     He was snoring but it abruptly stopped and it sounded like he choked on air. His eyes didn’t slowly flutter open like they say they do in the books or like they show in the movies. Instead, he clenched them closed before opening them, swiveling his head around to take in his surroundings. When he saw you, his confusion turned into anger.

    “You little bitch,” he roared. “I’m gonna get you put away for this!” 

     He kept yelling and yelling and it was giving you a headache. His goal was to instill fear in you but you only got irritated and upset, causing you to grip the knife in your hand harder. 

     “Shut up,” you muttered from your spot on the floor. “Shut up, shut up, shut up!”

     All of a sudden you were plunging the knife into his thigh. 

     You gasped and stepped back, hearing him scream in pain. 

     “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” 

     You gripped your hair in your hands and started pacing. 

     “What did I do? What did I do? Oh my god,” you mumbled to yourself over and over.

     You walked all around the room before finding a belt and making your way over to Thamson. 

     You yanked the knife out of his leg, ignoring his yells, and wrapped the belt around his leg to stop the bleeding. 

     With the weapon in your hold once again, you dropped to the floor, tucked your knees into your chest, and sobbed like nobody’s business.

-

     Right when the team was getting ready to head to the jet, they got a call from the precinct. The head head sheriff had been kidnapped and they hadn’t gotten any leads. It’s been 12 hours since he was last heard from. 

     No one wanted to stay in this stuffy town longer than they needed to but they decided to help them anyway.

     The other officers told them about a 911 call Thamson responded to. The team listened to it and tried to find something within it. Reid was the first to perk up. 

     “Can you play it again?” 

     The genius carefully listened to every word that came out of the person’s mouth. 

     “Wait..,” he trailed off. “Does that not sound like…” 

     Tara thought back to her time at the gas station with JJ yesterday. She replayed the events in her head, thinking about who was there and what everything sounded like. 

     “(Y/n),” the brunette finished her thought. 

     “Do the patrol cars have something that can be tracked?” she asked the officer nearest to them. 

     “Uh, yeah it should.” 

     Emily called Garcia, asking if they could get any traces on where the car could possibly be. In less than two minutes, they were on their way to an abandoned warehouse. 

-

     In the midst of your crying you heard sirens. While Thamson perked up, you couldn’t help but panic. You didn’t even know why you did this. It’s like you weren’t even in control of your own body. 

     You stood and started pacing again. You ignored the tired chuckles of the sheriff and the taunts of how you were going to die in a jail cell. You pointed the knife at him again and he was quick to shut his mouth. 

     The rusted door busted down and you heard ‘FBI’ being yelled. It really reminded you of just a few months ago when they were dragging you out of your old apartment. 

     You picked up the gun that you took from the sheriff and held it against his head with the knife to his neck.

     “C’mon (y/n), drop the weapons and this’ll all be alright.” It was the lady who came to talk to you yesterday; Prentiss you think her name was.

     Yo glanced around the room, looking at all the guns trained at you, causing you to grip the one in your hand tighter. 

     “No, no, no,” you muttered. “What have I done?” 

     “There’s still time to make things right.”

     You saw an officer out of the corner of your eye shake his head in disagreement. You knew what they would do to you as soon as you got out of here. 

     “No,” you spoke louder, pulling the gun away from the sheriff’s temple and putting it to your own. “I-I’m not going back there. You can’t make me.”

     “(Y/n), please listen to me,” the lady continued. You saw her grip her gun tighter and she appeared more frantic. "You need help. We can get you help. Just please put the gun down.”

     “I’m not supposed to be here. Th-this wasn’t supposed to happen. I didn’t mean to.” 

     “I know you didn’t. It was an accident, yeah?” 

     You nodded in agreement. 

     “An accident is an accident; no one is going to blame you for that. But you need to put the gun down.” 

     “I can’t,” you sobbed. “You don’t understand. I’m not supposed to be here. I’m not”

The cries that left your body caused you to twitch. And the shaky and (not properly trained in the team’s opinion) officers made the situation no better.

     They didn’t know whose gun fired first. There were about four different shots hitting your body, all from officers. There would be time to scold them for their incompetence later but Emily was only worried about getting you. 

     When she reached you, your eyes were already glazed over and your breathing was laboured. 

     “I-I’m sorry. I didn’t-I didn’t mean to.” 

     The woman only shushed you and pushed back the hairs that were resting on your sweaty forehead. She saw how your eyes were fluttering closed and she saw how you were trying to fit it. 

     “It’s okay,” the unit chief said, her throat choking up. “You can rest now; it’s okay.” 

      With that you let your eyes close and Emily held your hand until it fell limp.

-_-_-_-_-_-

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[haadeswrites]

Elysium

god this fic took forever i’m so sorry!! but hey, first fic on the new blog! <33 also y’all should really thank @iwaasfairy who listened to me complain about this fic for a solid month, she’s the reason it got finished

Cult leader Oikawa Tooru x female reader

tw: indoctrination, extremely dubious consent, blood, yandere themes, religious themes, minor character death, implied abuse & drug use, mild smut, nsfw

The island itself is breathtaking

Pristine beaches with gleaming white sand, vast swathes of lush, green rainforest and waterfalls that cascade into shimmering pools of crystal clear water. Untouched, undisturbed; a paradise. At least, that’s how Ryuji had described it. 

Paradise, but only in the sense that a gingerbread cottage in the middle of the woods is paradise to a lost and hungry child. 

He hadn’t been wrong. Bare feet sink into soft, white sand as you climb from the boat - the warmth just toeing the line between pleasant and burning. Gentle waves ebb and flow behind you, and there’s a light breeze that kisses your skin, the taste of seasalt carrying in the wind. Home, it seems to sing.

A laugh sounds somewhere in the distance, yet the only other figure on the beach is a man walking steadily towards you. He smiles when he sees you’ve noticed him; friendly, non-threatening. It’s a far cry from the swarming welcoming committee you’d been dreading, and you wonder if that’s somehow intentional as well. 

As the boat pushes back out to sea he comes to a stop before you, “I’m Makki,” he says, pushing the fringe of his hair back and giving you a not-so-subtle once over. Whatever he sees must meet approval, because his grin only widens, “Welcome to the Commune.”

Ryuji wasn’t wrong; the island is a beautiful, deadly thing.

—

You’d never heard of the Commune before the phone call. 

And maybe that shouldn’t be so surprising. You’ll be the first to admit you’re hardly an expert, but from what you do know, groups like the Commune – cults – don’t spring up out of thin air and start broadcasting their mistreatment and systematic abuse. 

They’re not the kind of people that have sweet old ladies clutching their pearls and mothers shepherding their children away – at least, not in the beginning. Not entirely. They’re not out to recruit extremists to further their cause, they choose to prey on the vulnerable, the lost and the disillusioned. Those easily manipulated. You suspect that’s why when you google the Commune, all you find is a website for what essentially looks like a long term luxury wellness retreat.

‘The Commune is about healing and harmony, about returning to nature, supporting one another to forge a brighter, more holistic future together… a self-sufficient community living apart from technology and other evils of modern society.’ 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you scroll through. There’s a whisper of philosophical teachings woven throughout, a page dedicated to their founder, Oikawa Tooru – smiling handsomely in every single picture, because what would a burgeoning cult be without a charismatic leader – but there’s not enough.

So here you are, on an island hundreds of miles away from home living amongst strangers; because Ryuji wouldn’t have sounded so terrified if this was just some alternate, free-loving bunch of hippies.

And even with all that he’d told you, everything you thought you’d be prepared for, the Commune is like nothing you could’ve imagined. 

Makki introduces you to Asuka, a woman only a few years older than yourself, dark haired and stunningly beautiful, and winks as he tells her to take you under her wing. She smiles brightly, eyes twinkling, and pulls you into a heartfelt hug – as if you’ve known each other your whole lives.

“We’re so glad you’re here!” she beams.

You’d like to hate her. 

It feels like you're supposed to, sometimes; when she gets that dreamy look in her eyes and starts talking about Oikawa and the Commune and how lucky everyone here on the island is. Yet there’s something about her – the genuine warmth she emanates maybe, or the kindness in her eyes – that makes it difficult for you not to like her.

“You should come to the gathering tomorrow,” she hums idly one afternoon, maybe a week or so after your arrival. The two of you are sitting on the edge of the pier, legs dangling down into the water, tangled fishing nets to be repaired strewn between you.

“I always go,” you reply.

She laughs, fixing you with a knowing look, “And sit right at the very back, all but running off the moment we finish?” 

And your traitorous heart skips a beat. 

“It’s okay to take things slowly,” she says. “We understand that being a part of the Commune is a big change from the life you knew, and that not everybody is able to see what we see and embrace those changes.” 

Asuka sets down the knot she’s working through and reaches for your hand, a gentle smile on her face, “But you shouldn’t be afraid. You’re meant to be here, I can feel it. You just need to stop fighting against it; surrender yourself to us, to the island, and everything’ll make sense, I promise.”

It’s dangerous territory. One wrong word could set off alarm bells, yet you can’t help pressing just a little.

“Do you ever miss it, then? Life outside the Commune?” 

Your family. Friends. The life you left behind before you came here to be brainwashed like all of the others.

“Why would I?” she answers without missing a beat, and it’s hard to ignore the bitter flicker of disappointment you feel at her answer. “The island provides for us, we don’t have to spend our days selling off tiny pieces of ourselves just to make ends meet. It’s paradise here, and we have Oikawa to thank for that. Why would I ever want to go back?”

Silence falls between you as you struggle to think of something to say to salvage the situation. Yet Asuka isn’t even looking at you, instead staring out at the water with a strangely pensive expression. 

“Did you know I was married once?” The words seemingly out of the blue, you can only shake your head. For a moment, she doesn’t reply, watching as the waves rise and crash offshore. And then;

“I was young, eighteen or so, fresh out of high school and he was a small town cop.” Her eyes flicker to yours, and your heart clenches at the sadness and pain echoing there. “I thought he was a good man, once upon a time.”

A chord strikes deep, your chest tightening involuntarily at her words. It’s not the same, of course it’s not the same, and yet… 

No. You stop the errant thought in its tracks. Groups like the Commune prey on the vulnerable, you know this. People like Ryuji, like Asuka, like–

Her fingers squeeze around yours, pulling you back to the present. “Come to the gathering tomorrow. Listen to Oikawa, it’ll help.”

—

She doesn’t give you a choice in the matter – dragging you by the hand to sit right at the front of the gathered crowd that very night.

Oikawa’s handsomer up close; tall and dark haired with pretty eyes and long, sweeping lashes that frame delicate cheekbones, it’s not hard for you to see how a man like him has amassed such an impassioned following. 

Once he starts actually speaking, however, you realise that his good looks and charming smile are just the tip of the iceberg. Oikawa’s utterly captivating as he preaches about the cycle of life and death and the paradise that awaits his faithful. Passionate and engaging, he speaks like he truly believes every word of the lies he’s spreading. 

And Asuka, her friends, the others gathered, they eat up every word like it’s gospel truth, resounding cheers and thunderous applause deafening around you. In the midst of the rapturous din, Oikawa’s eyes flit to yours.

Slowly, he smiles – a dazzling grin that makes your stomach flip – and everything; Asuka, the noise, the others swarming around you, it all fades away.

For one electrifying heartbeat, you’re frozen in place. Just you and Oikawa, trapped in the pull of each other’s gaze.

—

You can’t forget the reason you came.

But it’s… difficult, in a way you struggle to understand. You only have one purpose for being here, one goal; find Ryuji and bring him home. 

And yet, some days it’s like there’s a fog in your mind, and you have to focus to remember why you’re here at all. You catch yourself laughing with Asuka and her friends, the days passing by in a blur of endless, easy distractions. 

It barely feels like work when you’re sitting under the shade of the trees, eating the fruits you’ve picked by hand – ripe and sweet, unlike anything you’ve ever tasted – diving off waterfalls into the crystalline water and meandering down the shore collecting seashells. Even when you are working, mending clothes or cooking with the others, it fills you with a sense of contentment you can’t quite explain. 

Like you’re a part of something bigger. Like you’re doing something that matters.

Ryuji becomes a distant thought. A whisper in the back of your head, a niggling in your gut, easily brushed aside and ignored until there’s a moment of quiet. In the dead of night, the balmy summer night’s breeze kissing your bare skin, you lie awake, lost in memories of the last time you’d seen him. 

Fists angrily pounding at your door, the yelling that gave way to sobs and the hoarse, desperate pleas that followed. Ryuji’s face; pupils blown wide and eyes rimmed in red, darting restlessly around as he held you too tight and begged–

Rolling over in bed, you gaze out your window at the star flecked sky, the shadows of the forest that lie at your doorstep, and wonder what it is that scares you more; that you’ve lost track of the days you’ve been here, and saving Ryuji is starting to feel like an afterthought, or that you could so easily forget all of it, find a place here in the Commune and be happy.

‘The island, it–it fucks with your head.’

Ryuji’d told you that, and you’d brushed it off as paranoia. You need to find him. Find him and get the hell outta dodge.

You can deal with the fallout later.

—

Kiyoshi. 

He’d mentioned the name a few times amidst his rambling – a friend of his on the island. You’re annoyed with yourself for not thinking of it sooner, however much like Ryuji himself, trying to focus and remember the name is like wading through thick mud.

Once you do, though, finding him amongst the hundred and fifty or so inhabitants is the easy part. 

There’s no strict division between genders within the Commune, however Kyoshi, despite his somewhat lean stature, is among the builders of the island and his path doesn’t often cross with yours. 

From Asuka you find out that he’s been a part of the Commune for years now, before even she joined, and that he mostly sticks to himself, though you’ve seen him chatting quietly to a few of the other men, a perpetually angry looking blonde in particular.

It’s the last part that piques her interest, “Why’re you so curious, anyway?” she asks, her face lighting up as a sudden thought occurs. “Do you want me to introduce you two? To be honest, I didn’t think he’d be your type, if you’re interested, though…”

Cheeks aflame, you’re quick to shut her down. “No, no, nothing like that. I’ve just… seen him around and we’ve never really spoken, I guess.”

A lame excuse, though mercifully she lets the subject drop without too much prodding.

Therein, of course, lies the problem. Walking up to Kyoshi and casually trying to drop Ryuji into the conversation without raising red flags is risky, but what other options do you have? You’ve already spent too much time on this island.

Although, maybe Asuka has the right idea. 

While you hadn’t been lying when you said you weren’t interested in Kyoshi in that way, nobody else knew that. Who would really look twice at the shy newbie striking up a conversation with the quiet, easygoing man? He wasn’t unattractive per se, and from the brief interactions you’d seen of him, he seemed kind enough.

You have enough patience (barely) to wait for dusk the following night. There’s a celebration, something about the full moon and a blessing on the island and the Commune– you hadn’t really been paying attention when Oikawa had spoken about it. Still, it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. With the fire pits crackling, and the dancing and music and the sweet honey wine flowing freely, nobody will be paying too much attention to what you’ll be doing. Hopefully, the alcohol will also serve to lower Kiyoshi’s guard, and perhaps if you’re really, really lucky, loosen his tongue as well. 

Of course, you’re not banking on him telling you exactly where Ryu is or what happened to him– and that’s assuming he actually knows – but at this point you’ll take anything over the nothing you currently have. A tiny slip up, that’s all you’re asking for. 

As the sun descends beyond the horizon, you play your role well, laughing and chatting amongst friends, sipping carefully at the cup of wine in your hand as you wait for an opening. And perhaps it’s your nerves working against you, but you find that it’s not just Kiyoshi your attention is drawn to. 

Up on the shore, away from the rabble, Oikawa lounges back with a cup of the same honeyed wine you’re pretending to drink. For the most part he seems deep in conversation with Iwaizumi, his right hand, but every once in a while he glances up, letting his gaze roam over the crowd of his followers.

Every inch a king and his general.

And it would seem benevolent, if not for the strange smile he wears – the one that widens when his eyes catch yours.

Swallowing tightly, you force yourself not to dwell on it, to ignore the odd sensation curling in your gut and the way your skin prickles under his attention. Now is not the time to lose focus.

Pushing all thoughts of Oikawa aside, you subtly scan the beach once more, only to find that Kiyoshi’s moved, sitting now on a piece of old driftwood near the bonfire. Alone for the first time tonight. 

Your legs are moving before the thought even fully registers. 

“Do you mind if I sit?” you ask, gesturing to the empty space on the log beside him. 

Kiyoshi smiles, the laugh lines at corners of his eyes crinkling pleasantly, and shakes his head, “Not at all.”

“Thanks.”

Taking another sip of your wine, you will your shoulders to relax, your racing pulse to slow. This has to seem natural, and so you force yourself to hold your tongue, let your head loll back and breathe deep, soaking it all in. You can hear the others in the distance, the music and the dancing, the happy laughter and shouts that beckon – you want to go join them. Even your blood seems to hum, a call of something other pulsing through your veins.

But you pay it no mind. There are more important things to worry about tonight. 

Indeed, steel blue eyes have been appraising you curiously for a while now. “This is your first Lunar blessing, isn’t it?” Kiyoshi asks after a moment.

You nod, humming in agreement. Less than a month; you’ve been here less than a month. Is that a good thing?

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

A harmless enough question, and again you nod your head. “Yeah, it’s…” you pause, searching for words that won’t sound hollow. “It’s paradise. I feel like I need to pinch myself just to make sure it’s real.”

He smiles gently. “But?” he probes.

Grimly, you wonder whether Kiyoshi’s usually this perceptive, or if you’re just a really terrible actor. In a way, you suppose it really doesn’t make a difference; you’ve come too far to turn back now – at least not without raising suspicion. 

So you lie with a truth, and pray that it works.

“I had a friend I was supposed to meet here,” you confess quietly, gazing not at him but the crackling flames of the bonfire, the burning embers carried off into the night. “He was the one who said I should come, but now I’m here and he’s not and every time I catch myself enjoying this–”

“You feel guilty,” he surmises, cutting you off. “Because he’s not here to enjoy it with you.”

Wordlessly, you nod – and maybe it isn’t so much of an act when your eyes begin to glisten, your smile wavering. 

Kiyoshi’s silent for a moment, and you take another sip of the honey wine to hide your nerves. “You shouldn’t, you know,” he says eventually. “Feel guilty, I mean. You belong here, with the Commune. You’re happy here. Paradise… isn’t for everybody.”

He doesn’t say it to be cruel, more like he’s simply stating a fact, and somehow that makes it all the more unnerving. And it’s nothing you haven’t listened to Oikawa preach about time and time again. The Commune is for the devoted, the faithful – the lucky few – and you’ve never thought too hard about what he’d meant by that.

The Commune’s small, maybe a hundred and fifty or so people on the island. There’d been no initiation, no test of faith or trial period you’d had to pass when you arrived – at least, none that you’d been aware of. You simply stepped off the boat and they’d welcomed you with open arms. 

An uneasy sensation settles into your gut, goosebumps prickling at your skin despite the heat of the midsummer night. 

That… doesn’t make sense. It can’t. Absolute control’s too important in groups like this, they couldn’t just let anyone–

Kiyoshi speaks again, his calm voice pulling you from your thoughts. “What was his name?” 

You blink at him slowly – stupidly. “Sorry?”

“Your friend,” he clarifies. “What was his name?”

“Oh, um- Ryuji.”

Kiyoshi’s brow furrows in thought for a moment, but he merely shakes his head, “Doesn’t ring a bell, but like I said, not everyone who arrives stays with us for long.”

He looks you right in the eye as he says it.

You don’t understand the cold, foreboding that seeps through your veins, because he’s lying. He has to be. 

Ryuji was here. They were friends, Ryu’d told you that–

Why did you think this stupid plan would work anyway? That he’d tell you anything, much less the truth when this whole fucked up island is full of liars and those too indoctrinated to know the difference?

“You alright?” he asks when abruptly, you shoot to your feet beside him.

And it takes every ounce of willpower you have left to force an easy smile to your lips, raising your cup just a fraction, “Yeah, just gonna go get a refill. Thanks for the talk, Kiyoshi.”

Whether he notices that your wine’s barely touched or not, you don’t care – not as you turn on your heel without another word and head back up the beach. 

Your head is pounding, your body trembling – you don’t hear the call of your name until a hand reaches out and grasps at your wrist, spinning you around.

Asuka greets you with a wide grin, Makki and a tall, broad shouldered man you think is called Mattsun standing either side of her – the former’s arm slung casually over her shoulder. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you,” she says. “Come on, we’re gonna go swimming, it’s so pretty out there!”

You glance out towards the ocean. Moonlight bathes the inky blue water, light shimmering off the rippling tide; some of the others are already out there, splashing amongst the waves. 

“Clothing optional, of course,” Makki laughs, and Asuka tugs on your wrist once more. 

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

But you shake your head, slowly pulling your hand from her grip, “I’m not feeling great, I think I’m gonna head back.”

Asuka frowns, concern marring her pretty features. “Are you okay? Do you need us to call Mizo–”

“No,” you say, cutting her off. Healer Mizoguchi is the last person you need to see right now. “I just– I just need to go lie down for a bit. You guys go have fun – enjoy the blessing, I’ll be fine.”

Makki and Asuka share a fleeting look, but it’s Mattsun who interjects before either one of them can speak, “I’ll walk you back, then.”

Your stomach churns. It doesn’t sound like a suggestion.

And the smart thing to do would be to accept his help; the walk from the beach to your villa isn’t far, and while you’re not as familiar with Mattsun as you are with Makki or Asuka, it’s not like he’s going to hurt you or anything, but–

“Really– you don’t need to, it’s fine,” you smile weakly, shuffling back as he reaches to offer you his arm. “Go swim, I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

Mattsun shrugs easily enough, falling back into line with the other two – yet there’s something in the way he grins and holds your gaze for a beat longer. A glimmer of amusement, as if there’s some joke you're not a part of. “I’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.”

The heat that floods your cheeks clashes uncomfortably with the cloying heaviness in your stomach, but somehow you manage to stutter out one last goodbye before turning back to scamper off in the direction of your room.

–But not to lie down.

There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the full moon’s bright. No need for a torch, not unless you decide to venture into the heart of the forest.

You’ve been a fool. Kiyoshi, Asuka, Makki, Mattsun; you can’t trust any of them to help you, even unwittingly. Ryuji’s here on the island – somewhere – and every second that slips away, every second that you allow yourself to forget puts him in further danger.

And so you cling to your discomfort, ground yourself in it. The prickling sensation at the back of your neck, the tightness in your chest as you slip past your villa, keeping low and quiet – they’re a reminder that there is something insidious here on the island, that you have to get out.

You and Ryuji.

He’s here. Away from the others, kept under lock and key as punishment, or maybe being forced to undergo whatever kind of glorified brainwashing they’ve got going on, but here. You need to be smart about this, because while you don’t intend to stop until you find him, tonight will be your best shot – while everyone’s distracted down on the beach. 

For the first time in a long time, it feels like you have a clear head. 

Creeping through the underbrush, you steer clear of the well trod pathways that lead towards habitation. You’ve been there, and to the docks, and the river. 

If they’re still keeping him here (and they are, you refuse to entertain the possibility that it could be otherwise) then it’s not somewhere out in the open. A bird cries out in the distance shattering the calm of the night, and you flinch – but it only serves as another reminder that your time tonight is limited; you cannot afford to delay. You wrack your brain, trying to dredge up memories of the last few weeks, surely you must have seen something–

“Lost?”

The single word, spoken in a deep, gruff voice has your blood running cold.

Slowly, you turn. 

Iwa stands behind you in the thicket, his face utterly impassive. Briefly, you contemplate whether it’s worth trying to bluff your way out of this, but Iwa’s eyes narrow, flashing in the dim light and you think better of it.

A sigh escapes you, your shoulders deflating. “Where is he– Ryuji?” you ask; a whisper rather than a demand.

Iwa’s expression gives nothing away. Did he know, or have you handed him the smoking gun of a crime that’d fallen through the cracks? Does it even matter anymore? You’re just–

You’re tired. 

Exhausted. In the space of a few moments all of that shining determination and resolve; it fled, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. This has to end, you can’t keep fighting against them forever. You can’t keep drowning in this guilt, feeling torn every second that you spend here on this stupid island. You just want to find Ryuji and go home.

… Right?

A tense beat passes as Iwa appraises you, and then; “Come with me.”

The hand he places on your shoulder doesn’t give you much choice. His grip isn’t what you’d describe as gentle, yet he’s careful enough to make sure you don’t trip or stumble as he marches you north. 

In the thick of the forest away from the beach, it’s eerily quiet. Every twig that snaps underfoot, every ragged breath you draw; it feels too loud. Out of place amongst the stillness of the midsummer night. 

And isn’t it ironic, that for the first time since you set foot in this paradise, you feel like you’re trespassing?

A bead of sweat trickles down from your temple and your mind unwittingly drifts back to Mattsun and Makki. Are they still swimming with Asuka? Probably, you reason. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly how long it’s been since you left them on the beach, but surely no more than an hour.

And strangely, like water drawn from the depths of a well, an image comes to mind; the four of you standing in the waves, you perched atop Mattsun’s shoulders, screaming and giggling in delight as Asuka tries to knock you down again, two sets of eyes watching from the shore… 

You should have stayed on the beach.

“Can I ask you something?” 

“You can ask,” he replies drily – humouring you, you suppose.

Your lips quirk upwards for the briefest of moments. “What happens on the Lunar blessing? Asuka, the others– no one told me what it was.” 

Iwaizumi doesn’t answer you immediately, but you feel his fingers reflexively tighten on your shoulder. Likely it wasn’t the question he was expecting; surely there were others that you could have asked – but you don’t really want the answers to those.

If you’re being led like a lamb to proverbial slaughter, what good would it do you to know it? 

And yet as the seconds pass and no answer seems forthcoming from your captor, you resign yourself to the fact that your curiosity will remain unsated. You don’t even know what prompted you to ask in the first place; knowing Oikawa it’s probably some grand, meaningless spectacle. Pretty, hollow words spoken only to–

A heavy sigh draws you from your thoughts, and you falter in your step, almost tripping over your own feet in the process. Iwa’s quick to right you, urging you forward with a less than gentle nudge. “Walk straight,” he grunts, yet it lacks any true heat. Anticipation flutters through your veins, and he mutters a soft curse behind you. “Fine. It… it’s an exchange.” 

An exchange? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Your eyebrows draw together, mouth opening to press the matter, but Iwa beats you to the punch.

“You’ll find out for yourself soon enough, now shut up.”

You have no response to that, so you do.

—

The two of you walk in silence for what feels like hours. Eventually, the terrain becomes steeper, the worn path you’re treading twisting and winding, and you realise you must be close to the mountains at the heart of the island. 

As your breath comes in heavy pants, your legs beginning to ache, you can’t help but be lost in the beauty of it all.

The flora’s different here, unlike any you’ve seen before. Flowers bursting from the bark of towering trees, blooms of vibrant hues; reds and purples and soft, baby pinks. Even the vines at your feet curl amongst pretty white buds that gleam invitingly under the moonlight. Your jaw falls open as you gaze around in wonderment. 

You forget why you’re walking, where it is that you’re heading. Iwa’s grip relaxes as a quiet gasp escapes you, and he doesn’t stop you when you stray from the path to take a closer look. You can’t resist reaching out to touch the silken petals, leaning in to smell their perfume. Soft and light and sweet, your eyes flutter shut, a smile creeping across your visage. 

It reminds you of home. Not your actual home – the rundown, tiny shoebox apartment you gave up before you came here – but something deeper.

Home, like the long summer days spent playing in your parents’ backyard. Home, like afternoons curled up by the window, watching the rain come down in sheets outside. 

Home, like the comfort of arms wrapped around you; two hearts beating in sync.

“C’mon,” Iwa interrupts after a minute or so, his voice a touch less gruff. “We’re almost there.”

Dazed, you find yourself nodding, allowing him to guide you back to the path. This time, he doesn’t grab you by the shoulder, seemingly content enough to walk by your side. 

True to his word, it’s only another few minutes before you see it; a wooden villa, four times the size of your own and far, far grander, set amongst a clearing of trees on the mountainside. Confused, your eyes flicker from the villa to Iwa and back again. Gossamer curtains billow lightly in the breeze, a warm, inviting glow spilling from the open windows. Surely this cannot be where he meant to lead you… and yet he merely stands at your side, arms folded across his broad chest, watching you expectantly. 

“You gonna make me carry you up there?” he asks, not unkindly.

Swallowing tightly, you shake your head. 

Another glance, and you catch a shadow lingering by the window. Your heart skips a beat, apprehension curling in your gut as you begin to walk, every step feels less steady than the last. You’re almost glad when Iwa takes you by the arm; if only so that you have something to focus on other than the growing tightness in your chest. The villa, with its pretty flowers and airy, elegant grandeur is far from the isolated cell you’d been afraid of, yet the uncertainty of what you’re walking into eats at you all the same.

Is this where they’ve been keeping Ryu, or has he brought you here for another reason?

Nothing, however, can prepare you for what you find inside. Warm light emanates from lanterns that bathe the room, and your eyes widen as you stare around you.

Strange, gold carvings inlaid with mother of pearl decorate the thick, woodens support beams, a pot of incense burns on a table overflowing with fresh fruit. There’s a jug of the same honeyed wine you’d drank earlier in the night and two cups set on an ornate stand nearby – just within arms reach of one of the chaise lounges.

Iwa affords you little time to gape, drawing you further in. Silken tapestries hang from the walls – you’re pulled along too quickly to truly take note, but the brief glimpses you get hint at a story; a divine being cast from his home, lost and wandering.

It tugs at something buried within you, and uncomfortable, you tear your eyes away.

The two of you reach a closed door at the end of the hall, and Iwa pulls you to a stop, knocking once.

“Come,” a familiar voice calls.

You stiffen, though perhaps you should have foreseen this outcome. Who else would Iwa bring you to but to him? Distantly, you register his grip relaxing, the sound of the door sweeping open and his voice at your ear.

“Go on.”

And it’s funny, you think, how two halves of yourself can be so at odds with each other. Because while your stomach twists itself into knots, goosebumps prickling at your skin, your legs stumble forward of their own accord.

Two steps forward, and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s a bedroom, that much you can deduce from the decor, but that’s not what captures your attention. Nor is it Oikawa, leaning against the bureau with a genial smile – at least not at first. 

No. In place of a back wall, there’s open space, not so much as a panel of glass obstructing the view before you. And what a view it is; from this height you can see the sprawling forest below, the coastline dotted with bonfires and the moonlit ocean shimmering beyond. Where the floorboards end, there are steps, you realise as you unwittingly inch closer, leading to a cascading spring – likely fed from the waterfall you can hear rushing nearby.

How easy it would be to brush aside your worries, you think, to shed your clothes, slip into the cool, calm water and lose yourself entirely. Even amongst all you’ve seen and experienced on the island so far, this is incomparable. 

“Stunning, isn’t it?” Oikawa murmurs, coming up behind you.

His voice startles you, yet when you turn, you find him not gazing out at the scenery but rather at you, that same strange, knowing smile curling at his lips.

“Some days, I admit, it’s hard to tear myself away,” he continues, unbothered by your stunned silence. “But even I can’t neglect my duties for too long.”

You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips. Confusion twists through you at the conversational tone, surely he hasn’t brought you here just to chat about the impressive views, yet there’s no hint of disapproval on his face, no indication that he’s anything less than pleased with you.

It’s unnerving to say the least, but you’ll play along with his game if that’s what Oikawa wants.

“Beautiful,” you say, though the words feel woefully inadequate even as you speak them.

He hums in agreement, something akin to pride flickers in his eyes at your assessment, “A labour of love, I suppose. But… everything you see here, everything I’ve built, it comes with a price. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry?” you stutter.

“Paradise,” he elaborates, his smile widening. “There’s no give without take. Those people down there,” he nods down at the beach, the tiny, ant-like figures still milling about, “the lost, the beaten, the abused – I gave them what they so desperately sought; a sanctuary. A life without struggle, without suffering.” He pauses for a moment, reaching forward to take your hand. You almost flinch, almost skitter across the room to put as much distance between you as you can, but you don’t–

His palm is warm as it envelops yours, a pleasant heat that seems to spread through your veins, easing your tense muscles. There’s nothing to fear from him, you’re safe with Oikawa.

“Aren’t you happy here?”

Yes.

“What about the price?” you ask instead, though it takes more concentration than it should to force the words out. 

Oikawa’s thumb sweeps along the back of your hand. “I never said it was your price to pay,” he soothes. 

There’s something wrong with that sentence, but another sharp knock at the door draws your attention before you can think too hard about it. You turn out of instinct, barely aware of the way his hand tightens fractionally around your own.  

A single finger at your jaw coaxes your attention back to him. “If you built a paradise, wouldn’t you give whatever necessary to ensure it flourished?”

Oikawa stares at you expectantly, deep brown eyes searching your face as he waits for an answer. Agreement would be the logical choice – the one he seems to want from you – but even as your lips part, the only sound that escapes is a breathless, confused noise. 

When you were a kid, maybe six or seven, your parents took you to the beach one day and you waded too far out into the water. The waves were bigger than you expected; all it took was one mistimed jump and you were dragged under.

It wasn’t for long, probably only seconds, and ultimately you were fine – but you remember those few seconds so vividly. The feeling of helplessly tumbling through the water, fighting to break the surface but not knowing which way was up. Your lungs crying out for oxygen, the disorientation and dizziness, the panic.

It feels like that now – like the floor’s dropped out from beneath you and you’re just hurtling through empty air, desperately trying to slow yourself down with nothing to grab onto.

None of this makes any sense. Your emotions are shot to pieces, too many parts of yourself being pulled in different directions and you’re not sure which ones you can trust anymore. How can you be? Oikawa’s still holding your hand, smiling at you, and you just want everything to stop for a second so you can right yourself and breathe–

The door opens.

Iwaizumi appears in your field of vision, dragging a bound, hooded figure behind him. And because this is all some big, cosmic joke, you get your wish. Both of them, actually. 

Time slows. 

Even with a burlap sack pulled over his head, you recognise the man Iwa shoves to the floor and sneers at. 

Hundreds of miles, weeks of uselessly traipsing around this fucking island, and finally– 

Finally, you’ve found Ryu.

There should be relief. Fear, considering his current state, yes, but Ryuji’s here and he’s alive and as the hood is ripped off his head Oikawa squeezes your hand and the only thing you feel is… anger.

Not a heated flash that surges through your blood. It’s slow and seething, insipid. You look at him, locked in place as empty, pleading eyes meet yours and all you can think is that all of this – everything – is his fault.

“Asuka told you why she came to me, didn’t she?” Oikawa asks.

Your brow furrows, why–why is he asking you that now, how did he even–

He slips closer behind you, letting your hand go in favour of your shoulder, his spare dragging lightly along the bare skin of your arm. “She was lost, in so much pain. The physical wounds, they heal after a while,” his voice is right in your ear, a low murmur that sends a shiver rippling down your spine.

It isn’t an unpleasant feeling.

“But the scars inside, well… sometimes those fester.”

Gagged and bound, kneeling at your feet, Ryu doesn’t even try to make a sound. 

He’s thinner than you remember. Face gaunt and bruised; there’s a half healed, mottled yellow one painted across the left side of his jaw, one eye purple and swollen. You glance at Iwa, standing stoically behind him, muscular arms folded across his chest. His work, you wonder, or others as well? You notice the tear tracks running down his face, catching the light of the lanterns, but it’s as if you’re seeing it all through a thick pane of glass. None of it reaches you, there’s nothing but that simmering, ugly feeling in your gut.

Oikawa hums, “I told you that Paradise wasn’t for everyone. It’s a haven, yes, but there are those who simply… don’t belong.”

His body’s so warm, pressed up against yours. Fingertips graze along your side, and this time you don’t bother biting back that tiny, breathless moan. Iwa briefly smirks at it, but there’s no embarrassment. Why should there be? Your eyes flit back to Ryu, bowed on the wooden floor.

Another memory resurfaces; A sharp crack and a ringing in your ears, Ryuji, eyes bloodshot and glazed, falling to his knees, clutching frantically at the leg of your pants as endless apologies spill from his lips. 

It wasn’t him. It was never him. 

“He hurt you,” Oikawa purrs. “He kept hurting you, I saw it.”

The words wash over you like waves breaking on the shore, but you find yourself nodding anyway. It was the truth, wasn’t it? A thousand tiny hurts, piled up on one another until you finally broke.

And you’d still come when he’d called.

Listened to him when he’d begged you not to hang up the phone.

“Iwa.” 

The brunet moves towards a grand chest of drawers pushed up against the western wall. An ornate dagger sits atop, strange and beautiful; the blade isn’t steel or any metal you’ve seen before, but some kind of black stone, the handle intricately carved ivory. You hadn’t even noticed it before, Oikawa’s room filled to the brim with odd trinkets and treasures, but now that you have, it’s hard to tear your eyes away.

Iwa takes it and carries it over towards the two of you, holding it with the utmost care. 

“Obsidian,” Oikawa informs you as he accepts the blade from his friend, bringing it in front of you both to show it off. “Pretty, isn’t it?” And while you can’t see his face, you can hear the smile in his tone.

He isn’t wrong though. 

Ever so carefully you reach out, the soft pads of your fingertips running along the obsidian surface, surprisingly cool to the touch. The razor sharp edges – wavy and asymmetrical, leading to a tapered point – you’re careful to avoid, almost positive you’d draw blood with the slightest touch. 

“Take it,” he urges, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. 

Obediently, you turn your hand over, your fingers wrapping around the hilt when he presses it against your palm. And as long fingers curl around yours, you idly wonder how old the dagger is – there’s not so much as a scratch on it, yet there’s something about the weapon in your hand that feels ancient. It thrums under your combined touch.

Oikawa jerks his chin at Iwa, and with a short nod and one last, lingering glance cast your way, the latter exits once again. 

Leaving you and Oikawa alone with Ryuji.

“It’s almost time,” he remarks – though time for what, you’re not entirely sure. His lips press against your hair, his arm dropping from your shoulder to your waist, drawing you flush against him. “I know why you came to me, the lies that led you here.”

Both of you turn your attention back to Ryuji at that, the bound man now shaking with the force of his muffled sobs, snot dripping from his nose. That bitter resentment rears its ugly head again, soothed only by Oikawa’s pacifying hum, his thumb now rubbing slow circles at your side. “Shh, I’m not angry – none of that matters now. You’ve found a home here, no? You want to stay on the island with me.”

You swallow, nodding your head rapidly. The thought of having to leave now, of being forced out after everything you’ve seen and felt and experienced here, you– you can’t fathom it. You don’t want to. 

Ryuji’d wrought so much damage, but even before he’d swept through your life… had you ever been happy? Were you ever truly accepted – or loved, for that matter?

You can’t go back to that life. You won’t; he’ll have to drag you kicking and screaming from the shore. The Commune is your home, this is where you belong. Here, with Oikawa.

“Good girl,” he croons, another kiss pressed to the crown of your head. You beam at the praise and Ryuji crumples a little further. “Death begets life, you understand now, don’t you?”

You glance at the obsidian dagger in your hand and then at Ryu, beaten and bruised, bowed in forced supplication before you, and nod.

His fingers tighten around yours, “Then do it.”

Leaning forward, you reach for Ryu, fingers lightly trailing down his ruined cheek, curling at his chin to coax his head upwards. He squeezes his eyes shut, pain and regret etched over every inch of his face, but he doesn’t fight you. 

Baring his throat to your dagger, Ryuji’s pleas take the shape of your name.

Muffled, thanks to the gag, but unmistakable. And for one single moment, you falter. 

This… this is wrong; for all his faults, and god knows there were plenty, Ryu didn’t des–

A wave of calm washes over you, allaying your fears, your doubts. Your breath leaves you in a heavy gust, taking with it the tension in your shoulders, and Oikawa’s voice, smooth and honeyed, reaches your ears once more, “Nothing comes without a price, doesn’t he deserve to be the one to pay it?”

With your hand still tucked inside of his, your arm moves with a will of its own; slashing with inhuman grace.

The dagger cuts deep, Ryuji’s eyes snapping open in shock as a spray of warm blood hits you both. He chokes – a horrid, wet, gurgling sound – wide, pleading eyes frantically shifting between you and Oikawa. Every beat of his failing heart sends fresh blood spurting from the gaping wound. It drenches his front, splatters across your dress, your face, crimson pooling at the wooden floorboards at his knees. His mouth falls open and shut, trying and failing to form coherent sounds and you just stand there and watch, the dagger hanging limply at your side.

It doesn’t take long; seconds at the most. 

Ryuji’s slumps to the floor, his body finally growing still as the light fades from his eyes. There’s a beat of absolute silence, and then–

Oikawa shudders behind you, a strangled, drawn out moan leaving his lips. You try to turn, but his arms lock around you, every muscle tensing, his back arching. The dagger in your hand grows hot, burning the soft skin of your palm, but with his fingers still tightly entwined with yours you can only whimper and endure it.

With a hoarse, guttural roar, a pulse of pure energy surges through the room like a shockwave. Every cell in your body lights up, electrified, buzzing; a dizzying euphoria unlike any you’ve felt before coursing through your blood. 

Across the island, voices cry out in delight, a symphony of life. The trees tremble and shake, invigorated and renewed, fresh buds bursting from the forest floor, blooming under the light of the full moon.

The harvests flourish, even the river swells in response to the call.

Death begets life, just as he promised.

And with every inch of your body alight and singing with pleasure, you can barely think much less protest (and why would you want to?) as Oikawa roughly yanks you around, hungry lips crashing against your own as his fingers pull and tear at your bloodstained dress. He wastes no time with foreplay, and you suspect only begrudgingly takes a moment to hoist you up against him and carry you to his bed.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he hauls your hips to his, sheathing his cock inside of your warm, tight cunt with one savage thrust, but you don’t care.

Not as you cling to him, fingernails raking along his shoulders as he presses your thighs further apart so he can fuck you deeper. It’s hard and rough and brutal, yet you moan for him all the same, his name a prayer swallowed up by feverish, claiming kisses.

Tonight, bathed in blood and the soft glow of moonlight, you offer your god everything.

—

“Look, look!” 

A small hand tugs at your skirt, and you glance down to find a little girl with pretty, dark curls holding up a crown of woven flowers.

“Do you like it?” she asks. 

Carefully, you take it from her, bringing it closer to examine. She watches you intently as you study it, lifting it this way and that to appraise her work, humming thoughtfully for good measure. “I think it’s beautiful work,” you tell her after a long enough pause, and you can’t help but smile at the way she lights up, preening under your praise. “Why don’t you go show your mama? I’m sure she’ll be very impressed.”

The girl nods rapidly, thanking you before skipping off in the direction of her parents. The sun’s hanging low in the sky, the fires already being readied for the night ahead. You’re not unaware of the watchful gaze that carefully monitors your every move, and the moves of anyone who ventures too close by. Soon enough, you’ll return home to the heart of the island – anticipation fluttering in your belly at the thought of what awaits you – but for now, you let your feet sink further into the sand, closing your eyes as you bask in the lingering warmth of the setting sun.

At least until the sound of your name being called draws you back to the present. Yet it’s not Iwaizumi approaching, but rather Makki, two strangers trailing along behind him. 

“Thought I’d find you here,” he grins, throwing a casual arm over your shoulders. “This is Kaneo,” he gestures to the man, “and his wife Manaka. They arrived this morning, I’ve been showing ‘em round.”

You turn to the couple, smiling sweetly as you extend a hand, “Welcome to the Commune.”