#sorry this took so long to reply to! the horrors you know how it is

[nebulations]

I spent the last like month wondering both what orv stood for and also why so many of your IDs mentioned the viewpoint. I just assumed that was a new ID technique (I did not notice they all mentioned the same viewpoint). Also I kept turning orv into Orville in my head (idk what Orville is) and wondered if that was somehow what it was

Just thought you'd like to know anyway love you bye 💜💚

Oh my god that's SO funny thank you so much for telling me <333 Love you hi!!! How's it going!!!!

[unlosts]

Late Spring

Summary: In an Italian restaurant somewhere in Nebraska you and the BAU decompress after non stop cases. And like a magic trick SSA Aaron Hotchner goes back to being Aaron

Word count: 1.8k

After a serial arsonist in North Hempstead, New York; a serial killer in Chandler, Arizona and an amber alert taking you to Lincoln, Nebraska back to back the entire team was running on fumes. Actually fumes were what you were running after the second week, right now it was just coffee and the thought of eventually getting to sleep in your own beds.

It’s not easy being in close quarters with the same group of people for so long, especially when you’ve had to share bedrooms for most of it. First a week with JJ, then three days with Emily and even one night with Spence after both Derek and Rossi refused to bunk with him citing intense sleep talking - which was, in fact, confirmed by you.

Eventually all the rooms started to blur together in your head, from the ugly pink explosion that was the bed and breakfast (which by the way had none), to the motel 6 in Nebraska that seemed straight out of a horror story, complete with an extremely creepy caretaker. Or future unsub Mike as Emily dubbed him.

Tonight was the last night before you could get home and you guys were celebrating big time, which at your current combined energy level meant an actual sit down meal where you didn’t have to look at a dismembered torso while trying to keep down some soggy fries and an under cooked burger.

You all ate in relative silence, brains too fried to talk about anything anymore, the rundown “italian” restaurant - yes Italian in air quotes just like Rossi insisted on doing every time he mentioned the place. The buzzing of the fluorescent light and the scraping of cutlery against plates being the only backdrop to your collective exhaustion.

The only good thing to come out of it was the fact that, finally, after close to three weeks Hotch could ditch the BAU Unit Chief SSA Hotchner and for once just be Aaron. And oh how you missed Aaron.

Despite having spent the better part of each day right next to him it felt like the chasm between you was larger than ever. It was what you had both agreed to; at work pretend like he’s just your unit chief and you’re just the media liaison. No room sharing, no public displays of affection.

Sometimes the affection bleed through the contours of professionalism he insisted on keeping well defined. Something as simple as him pressing his big palm in the middle of your back right between your shoulder blades as you spoke to him; heads a smidge closer together than strictly necessary.

Right now, though, he was just Aaron. Your Aaron. Sitting right next to you, chairs pushed together. Shirt sleeves rolled over his forearms, tie discarded in the hotel room along with his jacket and the last vestiges of whatever sense of professionalism he was still clinging to. His arm around the back of your chair as you leaned into it, head tilted back looking at him as he drank a beer.

He looks back at you and gives you a brief smile, the fondness in his eyes lingering, leg nudging yours underneath the table.

“Don’t tell me you’re tired already,” He says. “Me? Are you kidding?” You yawned “Send us off to the next case I’m ready” Although it wasn’t the cold the sleepiness was making the air conditioned room feel ten times colder so you shivered and took the liberty to lean even closer to him. His hand went to rub your arm trying to warm you back up.

“Do not” Derek chimed in “even joke about that, pretty boy said the same thing after Lincoln and look at us now”

“Yeah, look at us now, in Lincoln” Said Emily with a straight face before drowning the remainder of her beer and snatching JJs before she could realize what had happened.

“I’m too tired for this, you know what I meant.”

“mhhh, sooryy” You replied, not looking very sorry as you closed your eyes and rested your head on the crook of Aarons neck. Breathing in the comforting scent of his cologne and him, more present than ever after day three in the Nebraska summer. His hand is still trailing a path up and down your side, wrinkling your already very wrinkled green shirt and lulling you to sleep.

You felt Aarons lips nudge your temple talking to your in low gentle tones, his breath tickling the baby hairs in your forehead “Do no fall asleep on me or I’ll have to carry you back to the hotel”

“And you’re afraid that if people saw I would lose all of my hard earned Lincoln Nebraska street cred?”

He huffed a laugh before planting a whisper of a kiss on your temple “No, I’m afraid I’m going to throw my back and then you’ll be stuck taking care of me for two weeks”

“If it gets you to rest for two entire weeks I might just consider it”

“Jack would probably help”

“It’s good that you know us so well, and besides I saw you yesterday you still got it” You smiled against his neck remembering the brief but very interesting fight against the unsub before he could be apprehended. “Remind me to ask Penny if she has a copy of the surveillance tape, I’m planning on making the showing it at your birthday dinner next year”

“Look forward to it”

Suddenly you felt a small object hit your chest, looking down to see a crumpled napkin on your lap.

“Can you please get a room? This is the first decent meal I’ve had in weeks and I would hate to throw it back up” Said Emily with a mocking smile, her pearly white teeth contrasting with her faded, barely there plum lipstick.

“I’ve been trying to find a room for days now but none of you know how to cooperate” You reply with a huff.

“Saying please repeatedly until I tell you to shut up is not a good persuasion strategy” Said JJ frowning after getting her beer back from Emily and realizing it was almost empty.

“I don’t see why not, it’s never failed before” You said with a smug smile.

“Besides if we suffer, you suffer” Derek interjects.

“Aww just like a real family”

After a couple of minutes Spencer piped up next to Derek “I would have traded rooms with you”

“Don’t encourage her” Said JJ in her patented and perfected disgruntled mom voice

“I’m going to keep this in mind next time you ask us to babysit Henry so you can have alone time, Jareau”

“Okay, okay” Emily interrupted “Let’s all change subjects, the last thing I want is to talk more about Hotch’s sex life; no offense but in order for this to work I have to think of you like a Ken Doll”

You let out a startled laugh, properly awake now “oh I can assure you my friend-”

“Okay, that’s enough” Said Hotch trying to invoke his authoritative former prosecutor, current FBI unit chief voice. Which was, of course, completely useless when he was blushing so hard.

You just laughed once more, leaning over to briefly kiss his cheek in apology as your friends heckled you both.

What was meant to be a quick dinner before hitting the hay, although in this case the hay was actually a very thin and lumpy hotel mattress, turned into a couple more beers. And yes there were times this week when going to sleep and waking up to Emily's snoring face made you want to quit and move to the seaside but there was truly no other group of people that could make an “Italian” dinner this fun.

Afterwards you all headed you, the brief rise in energy quickly waning at the prospect of more than five hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Aaron held you back towards the rear of the group, his arm around you possibly the only thing keeping you upright. The dusk settling over the skyline painted the city pink and gold, you looked back at him standing next to each other on the sidewalk. His eyes a syrupy sweet caramel brown in the golden hour.

“Apparently there’s an ice cream place a couple of blocks from here, it’s supposed to be very good actually” He said looking down for a minute. It took you back to your first date, him asking to take you to a jazz bar which was more so Dave's plan than his, only to end up at a taco truck talking until three am. It amazed you then just as it did now how he could go from stern FBI agent, commanding a room without raising his voice to, well, Aaron.

You smiled up at him, the others long gone leaving you two enveloped in the last rays of sunlight.

“I’d love to, you might actually have to carry me back though, I don’t think this second wind is gonna carry me more than an hour”

“That’s alright, I heard that if I throw my back I get a couple of weeks”

“Whoever told you that was so smart”

“And beautiful”

“Can’t forget that part”

“Well I might not be able to swing two whole weeks but I did arrange to have three days off for everyone” Aaron said, hands in his pocket walking by leisurely next to you as passersby carved a path around you both, a hurried businessman bumping into your back made Hotch pull you closer still, once more enveloping your back.

“Are you serious?” At his assenting nod you couldn't help but smile “and you kept that all to yourself?”

“Mhm”

“Anything else up your sleeve Hotchner?”

“Aaron”

“Excuse me?”

“I’ve heard the name Hotch so often these last couple of weeks I almost forgot what my actual name sounded like” He said with a small smile, but you also knew by the way he melted when you said it that he was particularly fond of how it sounded coming out of your mouth.

“Okay, anything else up your sleeve, Aaron?” You asked fondly, unable to resist any longer and stealing a quick kiss before resuming your walk.

“No, nothing else”

“Okay”

“Oh I did convince Dave to share a room with Derek tonight which would indicate that I’m on my own tonight”

“No way, did I miss an anniversary or something?” You asked looking up at him

“No, I just missed you lately”

“Me too but no one else would budge on the room thing, how did you do it?”

“It only cost me forty bucks and promising to take over both Morgans and Rossi's reports for the last case”

“Ah bribery, should have done that sooner”

“You can’t blame yourself honey, I was a prosecutor after all”

You laughed once more, giddiness dispersing your exhaustion, making you feel like you could stay up until next morning, without trouble.

Stopping in the middle of the sidewalk, the ice cream shop just right around the corner, you drew him towards you, leaning up to kiss him slowly and unhurried. Savoring the feeling of coming home after three weeks and not being able to wait a moment more.

[0omillo0]

Yknow how skz is always carrying each other? Remember that one clip where they were all carrying I.N.? Can I request a I.N. x fem! 9th member reader? Where I.N. is like grr im strong too and snatches up reader and starts running away while the other members chase him to "save" the reader from the "evil" Jeongin?

JEONGIN X READER

thank you so much i had so much fun writing this!!

It had been a long day of rehearsals, and you were backstage with Stray Kids, trying to unwind. The atmosphere was lively as everyone chatted, stretched, and joked around. You were seated comfortably on a couch, sandwiched between Chan and Felix, who were scrolling through their phones and sharing memes. The rest of the members were scattered around, lounging or grabbing snacks from the refreshment table.

Jeongin, or I.N as the fans called him, had been unusually quiet. He sat across from you, his gaze flickering between the members with a mischievous glint in his eye. You raised an eyebrow, sensing something was up, but before you could ask, he suddenly stood up and cleared his throat.

“Y/N, I have something to prove,” he announced, crossing his arms and looking down at you with a playful smirk.

You tilted your head, a grin creeping onto your face. “Oh? And what might that be?”

Jeongin straightened up, flexing his arms. “Everyone always says I’m the baby of the group, the one who needs to be taken care of. But I’m strong, too!” His tone was filled with mock bravado, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

Changbin, who was sitting nearby, snorted and exchanged a knowing look with Hyunjin. “Yeah, sure you are, Jeongin,” Changbin teased, crossing his arms. “You can barely open a jar of pickles without help.”

The room burst into laughter, and Jeongin’s face turned slightly red. “Hey, I’m stronger than I look!” he defended, looking at you with a determined glint in his eye.

Before you knew it, Jeongin had taken a step forward and, in one swift motion, scooped you up and threw you over his shoulder. A gasp escaped your lips as you found yourself dangling upside down, clutching onto him to avoid slipping.

“Jeongin! What are you doing?” you managed to exclaim, though you couldn’t help but laugh. The room erupted into chaos as the other members stood up, feigning shock and outrage.

“Oh no, he’s taken her!” Felix cried, his eyes wide with exaggerated horror.

Chan sprang into action, pointing dramatically at Jeongin. “Put her down, you evil villain!” he shouted, barely holding back a grin.

But Jeongin was already on the move, bolting towards the door. “Sorry, guys, but Y/N’s coming with me!” he called over his shoulder, laughing as he sprinted into the hallway with you still hanging over his shoulder.

The other members didn’t waste a second before springing into action. They shot each other a quick glance, a silent agreement passing between them, and then they took off after Jeongin, their footsteps echoing through the hallway.

“Jeongin, you get back here!” Seungmin shouted, his voice filled with mock urgency. He was trailing close behind, with Han and Hyunjin on his heels. You could hear Chan and Felix not far behind, the whole group chasing after Jeongin like a pack of determined rescue heroes.

As Jeongin ran, you couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. You were still slung over his shoulder, bouncing with each step he took. He rounded a corner, darting into a narrow hallway that led to the dressing rooms, clearly trying to outsmart the others by taking the least obvious route.

“Are you having fun yet?” Jeongin asked, his voice breathless but filled with excitement.

You laughed, reaching up to lightly smack his back. “You’re so gonna pay for this, Jeongin,” you teased, though you were grinning ear to ear.

“I’ll take my chances,” he replied, picking up his pace as he heard the others gaining on him.

Hyunjin was the first to appear around the corner, his eyes locking onto you and Jeongin. “I see them!” he called back to the rest of the group, pointing dramatically as if he were a soldier in a high-stakes mission.

Jeongin took off again, heading for the exit that led to the outdoor courtyard. He burst through the door, and you both were greeted by the cool evening air. The sky was starting to darken, the first stars beginning to peek through as you made your way outside. He finally slowed to a stop, setting you down gently. You staggered a bit, catching your breath and giving him a playful glare.

“You’re in so much trouble,” you said, folding your arms as you tried to regain your balance.

But Jeongin only grinned, unfazed by your mock anger. “It was worth it,” he said, catching his breath as well.

Just then, the rest of the group burst through the door, surrounding you both. Chan took the lead, hands on his hips as he looked Jeongin up and down.

“Alright, Jeongin, hand her over,” Chan said, trying to keep a straight face but failing miserably as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Jeongin put his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, you caught me,” he said, stepping back with a sheepish grin.

Seungmin shook his head, crossing his arms as he looked at Jeongin. “I didn’t know you had it in you, man. Kidnapping Y/N right under our noses. Bold move.”

Felix stepped forward, pulling you into a protective side-hug. “You’re safe now,” he said, winking at you. “We won’t let the evil Jeongin get to you again.”

Jeongin rolled his eyes, laughing as he looked at the group. “Alright, alright. But admit it, you were all impressed by my skills,” he said, puffing out his chest in mock pride.

Han snorted, patting Jeongin on the back. “I’ll admit, you gave us a good chase. But don’t get too comfortable—we’ll be keeping an eye on you.”

The group started heading back inside, laughing and chatting as they made their way through the hallways. Jeongin walked beside you, occasionally glancing over with a playful grin, clearly proud of his little escapade.

As you reached the lounge area, everyone settled back in, the adrenaline from the chase starting to wear off. Changbin handed you a bottle of water, which you gratefully accepted, taking a long sip as you tried to catch your breath.

Chan leaned back, stretching his arms over his head. “Alright, I think we need to implement some new security protocols around here. We can’t have Y/N getting kidnapped again,” he joked, earning a laugh from the group.

Jeongin sat next to you, nudging your shoulder. “So, how’d I do? Was that a successful kidnapping or what?”

You rolled your eyes, smiling as you shook your head. “It was… impressive. I didn’t think you had it in you.”

Jeongin grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “See? I told you I’m strong!”

Felix leaned over, patting Jeongin on the shoulder. “Just remember, though—you mess with Y/N, you mess with all of us.”

Jeongin laughed, nodding in agreement. “Alright, alright. Lesson learned.”

The conversation gradually shifted as everyone settled back into their usual banter, talking about everything from upcoming schedules to their favorite snacks. The playful tension from the chase had dissolved, leaving behind an even stronger sense of camaraderie and warmth.

The evening carried on, and soon it was time to wrap up for the day. The members gathered their belongings, chatting and laughing as they prepared to head back to their dorms. Jeongin approached you one last time, scratching the back of his head as he gave you an apologetic smile.

“Hey, thanks for going along with my crazy idea,” he said, his tone more sincere now. “I hope I didn’t actually freak you out or anything.”

You shook your head, smiling as you looked up at him. “Not at all. It was fun. I think we all needed a little break from reality.”

He nodded, his expression softening. “Good. I’m glad. I wanted to make sure you were having a good time, too.”

As you left the building with the group, walking down the dimly lit street towards the van, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of gratitude. These moments of spontaneous fun, the ridiculous antics, and the unwavering support of each other—these were the memories that made everything worthwhile.

The van ride back was filled with laughter as the members recounted the chase, each one adding their own exaggerated details and perspectives. Hyunjin insisted he’d almost caught Jeongin, while Han claimed he had a plan to intercept him at the courtyard but got “distracted by a squirrel.”

By the time you reached the dorms, everyone was exhausted but in high spirits. You stepped out of the van, and Chan clapped his hands together, turning to the group.

“Alright, everyone, get some rest. We’ve got another big day tomorrow,” he said, his tone gentle but authoritative.

You and Jeongin exchanged a final glance, both of you smiling as you headed towards your respective rooms. Just before you entered, Jeongin called out to you.

“Hey, Y/N?”

You turned, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

He hesitated for a moment, a slight blush coloring his cheeks. “Next time, maybe you can be the one to kidnap me.”

You laughed, nodding as you opened the door. “Deal.”

As you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but smile. Being part of this crazy, chaotic family had its challenges, but moments like these made you feel like you belonged. And as you lay down to rest, you found yourself looking forward to the next adventure with your seven mischievous friends, knowing that no matter what happened, you’d always have each other’s backs.

[wildrangers]

Book Lovers // Quinn Hughes

Word Count: 5K

Summary: Quinn x fem OC author

Content: prolonged meet cute, flirty banter, fluff. Truly, I saw the clip of Quinn sharing he's a reader and knew I had to write something based on that.

Quinn took a deep, contented breath as he perused the shelves before him. He had a rare day off and was doing one of his favorite fall activities: book shopping.

Normally, he just went to Chapters or Barnes, depending on what country he was in, but he’d decided to explore a new place. He’d been discussing books with Lauren, the new social media manager, and she’d ranted about how they and Amazon were “destroying local markets and harming author profits.” Most of her argument had gone over his head but he took away enough, so here he was at Thomas’ Tomes–the closest locally-owned book shop to his apartment. He figured that was as good a place to start as any and it certainly didn’t hurt that it was a block from his favorite coffee place. 

Which is how he found himself, pumpkin spiced latte in hand, soaking in the relaxing energy of the cozy shop. He’d already selected a few historical fiction novels and was scanning the mystery section he’d just entered. He pulled his phone out, scanning his notes app for the title Lauren had recommended. She’d said it was pretty gruesome but he figured he could handle it…probably.

“Can I help you?” a voice nearby asked, startling him. “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Are you sure a mystery book is a good idea?” 

His gaze rose to meet warm, golden brown eyes filled with amusement. “What do you mean?”

“It’s broad daylight in a public setting and you almost dropped your PSL because I greeted you.”

“You didn’t scare me, I was just in my own world” he argued, but felt his cheeks pinkening. She really had set off a fight or flight response just by doing her job.

“Of course” she replied and he couldn’t tell if he was being sensitive or if there was a teasing glint in her eyes. “My offer still stands.” 

“I’m sorry what?” he asked, confused and scrambling to keep up. 

“To help you find something…preferably a book. I don’t know how much help I’d be beyond that.” 

“Oh sure, yeah, thanks” he mumbled, setting his stack of books down on the table next to him so he could more easily show her his phone screen. “Someone recommended this book to me, do you have it in stock?”

He caught a whiff of something earthy and relaxing as she leaned closer, her eyes scanning the note. “Ah, yes we actually have a display over this way. Theo’s a local author.”

He picked up his items and followed her, moving much quicker than he anticipated having to to keep up as she weaved through the store. “Have you worked here a long time?” 

“My whole life essentially” she chuckled, throwing a grin over her shoulder. Just as she turned back, they passed a window that set her red hair aflame in the midday sun. 

“Oh, yeah? No labor laws then?” he teased, he hoped, successfully.

“I mean, I basically harassed my parents to let me stock shelves or talk to customers. Now I’m slightly less enthusiastic about inventory.” 

He laughed at her light tone, drawing to a stop as she did. “Wow, is this a series or something?” he asked, taking in the full display. 

“Well, the one your girlfriend recommended is the first in a new series” she answered, pointing it out. He was about to correct her but she continued quickly, “And the sequel isn’t out until early next year, so you’ll be waiting a bit for answers. Maybe start with this one?” she suggested, pointing out a title with the fewest books available. 

“Only a couple copies left, it must be popular. Have you read it?” 

“More times than I can count” she huffed.

“You’d think if you kept rereading it’s because you enjoyed it, no?” he chuckled. 

She simply shrugged, turning fully to meet his gaze, “Well, what’s the verdict? I do feel the need to warn you, these books are much closer to horror than just a normal mystery or thriller.” 

“Why does no one think I can handle these books?” he sighed in mild annoyance, grabbing the one she’d recommended off the shelf. 

“You just don’t seem like a horror enthusiast, that’s all.” 

“How could you possibly know that?”

“Do you want me to answer genuinely?” she responded, eyebrow quirked in a challenge he couldn’t help but rise to.

“Sure but if you hurt my feelings, can you at least give me a discount?” he joked and she snorted out a laugh.

“You’ve got yourself a deal” she smirked, offering her hand to shake on it, which he did. He wasn’t at all surprised when her handshake was firm and she maintained eye contact the entire time. “Well, you have two historical fiction books with you and that was the first section you went to when you walked in.”

“You were watching me?” he laughed, earning him an eye roll.

“It’s 11AM on a Tuesday, there’s not much else to do,” she replied, gesturing to the otherwise empty store. “Plus, it’s a fun game to play when I procrastinate on doing actual work. Anyway,” she emphasized, closing her eyes briefly to seemingly get herself back on track. “Once you found those, both of which are part of long, ongoing series, you debated going left to nonfiction or right to mystery. My guess is, you normally would go pick out some biographies, maybe some historical nonfiction or even, oh, maybe some kind of ‘how to maximize yourself’ guide. How close am I?”

He felt his cheeks warm from pink to scarlet, “I mean, close but that doesn’t mean I can’t also like mysteries…” he argued weakly. 

“True enough, who’s your favorite thriller writer?” The long silence was answer enough so she continued, “If you want, you can go pick out a nonfiction book and I’ll throw the thriller in for free.”

“You don’t have to do that, my feelings weren’t that hurt.”

She shrugged, “I can’t in good conscience let you pay for that book, you must have done something to piss off your girlfriend.”

“My coworker, actually” he corrected and her eyebrows rose. “What?”

“What did you do to the poor girl?” 

“Nothing! I even took her suggestion to shop locally.” 

“Our hero” she fake swooned and he rolled his eyes, making her laugh. “Fine, how about when you’re done you bring up your haul and I’ll throw in a surprise? I feel like you’re making it a pride thing to buy the book now.”

“Color me intrigued, we have another deal” he replied. “My name’s Quinn, by the way.” 

“Dora” she replied but a loud snort erupted from near the registers. “Fuck off, Richie” she snapped, turning away from him to seemingly go yell at whoever laughed at her.

Quinn tried to relax back into the calming routine of ambling through a bookstore but he kept hearing her voice and couldn’t focus on much else. He grabbed a biography Jack had recommended, both dreading and eager to be teased by the redhead.

“Don’t let her manipulate you into buying that garbage” the guy, presumably Richie, called as soon as Quinn was in his line of sight. 

“I’m doing no such thing! Tell him, Quinn” she replied, cheeks flaming red in annoyance, her golden eyes fierce with indignation. 

“My coworker actually recommended this author. A different book but still…” he shrugged, placing his other selections on the counter. He noticed her eyes appraising his selections and the quick, amused quirk of her mouth before she whirled to focus on Richie. 

“See I told you!”

“I’m sorry for not believing you” Richie said, seeming sincere to Quinn’s ears but Dora’s eyes narrowed. “It’s just that Theodora here often tries to swindle impressionable young men to improve her book sales.” The heavy emphasis on the girl’s full name made Quinn pause. 

“Wait a minute…” he blinked rapidly, processing this new information. “Your family owns this shop, right? Thomas’ Tomes?” 

“...yeah” she grumbled, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring daggers at the giggling Richie. 

“And when you gave your name as Dora, he laughed. And this book, it’s written by Theo Thomas. And he just called you Theodora, which I think means you wrote this?” he questioned, feeling proud of himself for putting the pieces together and a little embarrassed it took him so long.

“He’s solved the mystery! Maybe he can handle your book after all, dear sister” Richie teased. 

“I was going to tell him!” Theo argued, grabbing a pen and opening the book. “That was the surprise, Quinn, now you have a signed copy of the book. You’re welcome, you can thank my asshole brother for ruining the reveal. I also signed a copy of the one your coworker recommended, can you pass it along to her? On the house.” 

“Are you sure?” Quinn questioned and she nodded, shifting to ring up the rest of his purchase. 

“Theo, stop” Richie huffed, shifting her away from the till. “You need to stop procrastinating and finish that last round of edits, they’re due within the week.”

“It’s just garbage anyway, you said so yourself” Theo replied mopily, sitting down on the stool next to the register.

“Oh come on…” Richie sighed, pausing his scanning to give his sister his full attention. “I was just messing with you. I know the sequel’s giving you a hard time but you’re at the finish line now, just a few more days of work then it’s out of your hands. And you’re an incredible, if worryingly grotesque, writer so I have every faith it’ll be amazing.”

“Did you hear that, Quinn?” Theo asked, grinning widely. “He finally admitted I’m a good writer.” 

“Oh fuck off, you guilted me into it!” Richie replied, grabbing the debit card from his outstretched hand. “Quinn, right?” 

“...yeah?”

“Quinn, can you please take my sister anywhere other than this shop? The cafe, the movies, a strip club? I literally don’t care, she’s driving me nuts.” 

“Richie! I’m sorry, he’s kidding, he knows that would be a weird, rude thing to request of a total stranger.” 

“A total stranger you’ve been flirting with…” he mumbled and Theo jammed her elbow into his side.

“Here, let me walk you out…” Theo said, grabbing his bag of books and rapidly leading him away from her brother. Once the cool fresh air surrounded them, she turned quickly towards him. “I am so sorry, Richie thinks he’s funny when he’s really just weird.”

“I have two brothers, I get it” Quinn assured her, reaching to grab the bag from her hands. “It was nice to have someone sign something for me for once.” 

“Do you sign things for people often?” she questioned, confusion evident in her eyes as she scanned him, trying to place who he may be. 

“Most nights yeah” he chuckled shyly, embarrassed by his comment. “Forget about it though…”

“No, no, I’m curious now” she smiled, head tilted in appraisal. “Not an author, I’d know you already. You definitely don’t give off musician vibes…but I don’t think I’ve seen you in anything either so not an actor. Who are you really Quinn? Here I was feeling bad for putting you through the ringer for my own amusement back there and you were a celebrity the whole time.”

“I wouldn’t go that far” he laughed anxiously, running his hands through his hair. 

“Well you’re either someone of import or completely delusional and just handing out signatures to people on the streets, so which is it?”

“I’m a hockey player.”

“...okay, and?”

“We’re in Vancouver.” 

“Yes, I’m aware.” 

“This is a huge hockey city! You don’t know the Canucks?”

“I don’t live under a rock, of course I do” she scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I was raised in a bookstore though so sports aren’t high on my list of interests.” 

“Are they on your list at all?” 

“Take a wild guess, Quinn” she replied sarcastically. “I guess you’re a big deal then?”

“I mean, I am the captain…”

“Is that normally what gets girls interested in you?” 

“Damn, tell me how you really feel” he answered, averting his eyes and trying to play off how the quip hurt him. 

“Hey, I’m sorry” she replied, her voice gentle as she tugged softly on his coat sleeve “That’s not how I meant it. I guess I’m just surprised you felt the need to try to impress me when I’ve been waiting for you to ask me out since I walked over to you in the shop.” 

He was briefly stunned into silence, causing her to rapidly continue, “Oh god, I’m leaving. I hope my book doesn’t traumatize you and I’m sorry for assuming you were trying to impress me, that was weird and presumptuous of me.”

It was his turn to grab her sweater sleeve lightly, “Can I have your number?” 

“Are you sure you want it? I’m clearly an expert at putting my foot into my mouth…” 

“I’m 100% sure but only if you’re interested. There's no pressure.” 

Theo reached into the shopping bag, adding her number to her signature before returning it. “Text me when you finish chapter eight, not a minute before okay? You need to know what you’re getting into here.”

***

Theo sighed, finally closing her laptop for the night but not before catching the time: 1AM. She’d procrastinated most of the day before forcing herself to do the one chapter she’d promised herself she’d get done. She was confident in the overall story but she felt like a single thread was missing that would lead to the next book’s central plot. Should the apparent villain be more gray and get a redemption arc? Or should she double down? Or maybe…her phone vibrating across the desk stopped her obsessing.

Respectfully, your mind must be a truly terrifying place. What the FUCK was that twist?

She smirked, butterflies tentatively taking flight in her stomach at the unknown number’s text.

I’m sorry, who is this?

How many men do you secretly sell your book to, sign said book with your number, and give detailed instructions on when they can use that number?

At least three today that I can think of, so any additional information would really help.

It’s Quinn.   

Ah yes, the biography and historical fiction lover! What twist are you referring to? 

I think if I typed it out I’d get flagged by an FBI agent or something…that was gruesome

I tried to warn you…

Take my advice, try harder with your next group of guys

I’ll do my best. I suspect the more I’d try to warn you off the more you would have dug your heels in though

Nah, I don’t have a competitive bone in my body 

Of course, my bad. Will you finish the book or is it too much? You can always give it to your girlfriend

*Coworker. I wouldn’t be texting a beautiful girl I just met if I was in a relationship

How charming and reassuring of you!

Are you always like this?

Like what?

Chirping

…I’m sorry what?

You don’t know what chirping means? That’s disappointing given you're a writer, Theo… 

Please, enlighten me

Chirping is a hockey term for when you’re ribbing someone. During a game, guys will chirp or make fun of each other to get under their skin. 

Are you saying I’m getting under your skin?

I’m saying I feel like my brain has to work overtime to keep up with you

That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me

That can’t possibly be true

As she mulled over what to say next, the three blue dots popped up so she paused until his response appeareed

Can I ask you a forward question? 

Shoot 

Are you free tonight? 

Are you asking me on a date?

Not quite, I’m asking you to come to my hockey game 

And why’s that?

Because you’re clearly smart and cute and have a twisted mind that I’m curious to learn more about. But you gave me a warning, so asking you to go to my game is mine

Ah, so since you passed my test you want to see if I can pass yours?

If you want it to be a challenge, sure. I just think it’s fair for you to get a glimpse of my weird life before I actually ask you out. Just like how you showed me a glimpse of your weird brain. 

Challenge and pre-date screening accepted. Where do I go and when? 

Which is how Theo found herself weaving through the crowds at Rogers Arena. Quinn had offered to get her a second ticket so she’d have company but she figured it was fair she went it alone since he was game to read her book. How terrifying could a hockey game be in comparison to a brutal serial killer story?

Quite scary, it turned out. The crowd was electric, the arena was sold out, and the noise was deafening. She’d never admit it to Quinn but she did watch some basic hockey rule videos on YouTube so she wouldn’t be totally oblivious. By the third period, she felt settled into the rhythm of the game and was actually enjoying it a bit. Especially when a fight broke out and she could cheer for violence against a random man she didn’t know alongside thousands of people. There was something very cathartic about the experience. 

It also turned out that Quinn, in this world, is a big deal. She’d immediately noticed that a huge percentage of fans were wearing his jersey. And as the team warmed up, Quinn had traded a puck for a piece of candy causing the teenage girl to scream in hysterics afterwards. It was both bizarre and fascinating to watch given she’d met this random man the day before at her family’s store. Maybe she should have asked for a signature, it probably would sell for a pretty penny…

A roar from the crowd pulled her attention back to the ice and her heart dropped to her stomach. Fights were a lot less fun when you knew and had budding feelings for one of the guys involved, especially when who he was squared off against had almost half a foot on him. To her surprise and relief, Quinn could hold his own, using speed to his advantage. When they both fell to the ice before finally being separated, she took it to mean it was a draw but the crowd screamed like he’d single handedly won the championship game, even as he was guided off the ice by the officials. There was less than three minutes left in the game so she hoped that was why rather than that he was hurt. She worried her lip between her teeth as she pulled out her phone.

Idk if you’ll see this before the end of the game but are you okay?????

She sighed as the minutes passed, the final buzzer sounding without a reply, so she stood to leave with the tide of people. Just as she tucked her phone in her pocket, she felt it buzzing insistently with a phone call. 

“Quinn, are you okay?” she asked without greeting him. She was focused on his answer but noticed a few fans within hearing distance whip their heads towards her at his name.

“Yeah, sorry I jumped right in the shower after the major.”

“I don’t totally know what that whole sentence means but I’m relieved you’re alright.”

His warm chuckle through the phone made her toes curl. “Did I scare you off?”

“I’m offended you’d think so” she replied but if he’d been with her, he’d easily tell she was a little shaken by the experience. 

“If you say so, Dora…” he teased and she laughed loudly, accidentally drawing more attention her way. “Can I take you out for a drink then?”

“Yeah, I’d like that. I’m currently in a sea of your most devoted followers though so I’ll need some help finding you.” 

He stayed on the phone as he guided her through the arena to the parking deck where he’d meet her shortly, only hanging up once she confirmed she was at the right car by reading his license plate number back to him. She scrolled through her phone while waiting but she felt eyes on her. She couldn’t help but be a little uncomfortable at the thought that these strangers knew Quinn’s car or at very least understood players would be emerging into this section of the parking garage. As a lifelong Vancouver resident, she obviously knew how hockey-obsessed her city was but she never thought much about these details.

She heard male voices approaching from the opposite direction of where she’d come so she tucked her phone in her purse. Quinn emerged with a tall blonde, their two heads bent together in serious conversation. When a young boy approached, they both paused, kneeling down to greet him and sign his jersey. They repeated the motion a few times before excusing themselves from the small crowd that had formed. 

“Hey! How’d you like the game?” Quinn asked, briefly pulling her in for a hug.

“I really liked the fighting until you were involved, then it was less fun” she admitted, smiling to greet Quinn’s companion. “I’m Theo.”

“Elias, good to meet you. Enjoy the rest of your night and maybe help Theo into your car before loading up, yeah?” Elias suggested and she felt her brows furrow. Quinn quickly glanced back towards the small group of people and her eyes followed his, noting that several phones were out and seemingly recording everything.

“Thanks man, drive safe” Quinn replied, placing his hand on the small of her back to guide her to the passenger side “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine” she replied despite her confusion and frazzledness. He must have seen it on her face though because he quickly unlocked the door and helped her in. A moment later he was in the driver’s seat, backing up and speeding through the parking deck. 

“I think this is the longest silence I’ve experienced in your presence” Quinn mused at the long, but not uncomfortable, quiet that had settled.

“I’m sorry that was just…”

“A lot? Too much? I can drop you off if you’ve changed your mind, I get it” he nervously filled in.

“Quinn, stop,” she laughed. “That’s not what I was going to say, it’s just a lot to process. I really thought you were trying to, like, gas yourself up when you said people wanted your signature daily but the girl you gave a puck to almost burst into tears afterwards” 

His cheeks flamed a deep crimson which she found wildly endearing, “Yeah, it’s a lot to process for me and it’s my life.” She took in his tired eyes and the dark circles beneath them. 

“Why don’t we go back to my place? I have a full bar cart and you seem like you could use some quiet” she offered. 

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Quinn, I extended the invitation, of course I’m sure. Just take the left at the next light.” 

She guided him through the city to her apartment, allowing silences to stretch while he seemingly decompressed from the game and its aftermath. Contrary to his initial impression, she was comfortable with quiet and enjoyed when someone’s company didn’t require constant banter and attention.

“Here, park in this spot, my neighbor’s away this week so no one will care if you're there.” 

He did as instructed and she went to open the car door, nearly knocking him with it, “Jesus, Quinn! Did you sprint over here? I can open the door myself, you know…”

“I didn’t sprint, I just moved quickly. And I know you can open the door, I just wanted to do it for you” he mumbled and she smiled at his nervousness. 

“Well, thanks and I'm sorry for almost injuring you. It seems like something that could really fuck with your job.” 

“Just a little” he chuckled, offering his hand to help her out of his truck. She took it, enjoying how warm and calloused his fingers felt against her own. He went to remove his grip but she squeezed his fingers in a silent request to keep holding on, which he did. 

“This is a great spot” he complimented as they rode the elevator up to her floor. “I guess the writing’s really working out?”

“I moved in about a year ago. I’d been doing pretty good but then my most recent book, the one your coworker recommended, kind of blew up. Which is great but also has made getting the sequel done a bit stressful” she admitted, reluctantly releasing his hand to unlock her door. 

“Why’s that? Wouldn’t the success kind of add to your confidence?”

“It did, for a little, but if this next one tanks then it just proves it was a fluke and then what?” she questioned, flicking on the lights. “Penny!” she called, squatting down to pet her beloved dog. 

Penny wiggled into her body, pushing her over and onto the floor making Theo chuckle. “Settle down, it’s only been a few hours.” 

“She’s beautiful” Quinn complimented from behind her, closing the door as he stepped inside. Penny was immediately investigating him, sniffing his hands as her tail wagged excitedly. “What a sweetie. You said her name’s Penny, right?”

“Yeah, short for Pennywise” Theo elaborated as she stood back up to slip her shoes off. 

“Of course, how silly of me to not make the connection” he chuckled. 

“I mean, I’m named after a horror novel character so I had to continue the family tradition with my own child” she explained, making her way towards the kitchen. 

“Are you really?” 

“Yeah, Theodora from Haunting of Hill House. Richie was named after Tozier in Stephen King’s It.” 

“That makes your choice of genre less surprising.” 

She laughed and shrugged, “What can I get you to drink?”

“Honestly? I don’t really drink, I just wanted to see you tonight since the game didn’t scare you off.” 

“I tried to tell you, I don’t scare easily,” she teased. “I don’t really drink either. Hot cocoa?” 

“Sounds great, thanks” he replied and she busied herself getting the ingredients together. “Seriously though, what did you think of the game?” 

“Like I said, it was fun until I worried you were hurt, then it was significantly less enjoyable” she answered, handing him a warm mug. “Want to hang in my library? Your book taste is questionable but I still think you’ll enjoy my collection.” 

“Why is my taste questionable?” he scoffed but followed her down the hall. 

“It’s just very…dude bro-y.” 

“How elegant” he teased and she rolled her eyes. 

“Maybe not elegant, but accurate, no?” 

“Whatever, Dora” he grumbled and she laughed.

“Is that going to be a thing? You call me by my least favorite nickname when I annoy you?”

“To be fair, it was you who offered that name up.” 

She sighed, sipping her drink and settling into the couch in her study. She watched as he slowly made his way around the room, every wall lined with books from floor to ceiling. “This room is incredible.” 

“Thanks” she beamed, genuinely thrilled at the compliment. “It’s kind of my pride and joy, aside from Penny, of course.” 

“I can tell,” he replied earnestly, settling beside her. “There has to be some nonfiction in here, right?” 

“Sure, if you’re into true crime, psychology, forensics, and/or mental health memoirs.” 

“I actually really enjoy psychology, it’s helped my game a lot.” 

“Really?” she asked and couldn’t hide the surprise from her tone which earned her a light glare. “I just meant that hockey seems much more physical than cerebral.”

“Oh it’s super mental actually” he argued and she nodded her encouragement for him to continue. “Okay so tonight for example. I didn’t have to drop my gloves and fight but doing so showed my team that I have their back and the other team that even though I’m smaller, they can’t push me around. Since I’m a quieter guy, I choose my actions carefully to kind of speak without speaking if that makes sense.”

“It does but you’re not small, silly. Not that it would matter even if you were but you’re not.” 

“I’m hockey small” he corrected and she didn’t know enough to argue. “Oh, another example. When a player is approaching the goal, they have to strategize what they can physically do while also anticipating the goalies expectations. Which is hard because the goalie is doing the same thing. So, it becomes really strategic in addition to the skill you need to play at this level.”

She nodded, genuinely intrigued by this new element of the game she watched tonight. He must have taken her silence for boredom because he quickly continued, “I’m sorry, I can be a bit of a hockey nerd.”

“Don’t be sorry, it honestly makes the game more interesting to me to think of it that way. Plus, I already knew you were a book nerd, what’s one more level of nerdiness?” 

He rolled his eyes and she laughed, lost in their deep blue. The air shifted between them, tension developing where there had been none. She set her mug down, eyes dipping to his lips and back up. She really wanted to know what his mouth would feel like against hers. 

“I come with a lot of baggage” he admitted quietly and she shrugged. 

“Don’t we all?” she asked, matching his quiet tone. She couldn’t help herself from raising a hand to gently trace the curve of his cheekbones. “I really like looking at you” she mumbled before she could think the comment through. 

He chuckled softly, covering her hand with his own, “I really like looking at you too, weirdo.” 

She grinned at his response, closing her eyes as his mouth finally met her own. 

A/N: Sorry for the cut to black, I'm debating if I want to continue with this OC so let me know what you think! It's my first OC in a very, very long time so sorry if the grammar is wonky in spots.

[eighth-heroine]

nightmares - dean winchester

Summary: Dean wakes you up from a nightmare.

CONTENT: feminine descriptors, mixed POV, demonic possession, angst, hurt/comfort, post hell!dean, cuddling

word count: 935 (est reading time 4 mins.)

You toss and turn in bed, limbs tangling in the worn motel duvet. Images flash through your head, reminding you of pain and torture and being trapped in your own mind. It had been months since Sam drove the demon out of your body, but its fingerprints lingered in the corners of your mind, ready to creep out as soon as you closed your eyes to fall asleep.

The worst part of the nightmares is the intense feeling of anxiety and fear it induces in you. You feel like you're really back in that time, watching yourself commit atrocities you could never have dreamed of on your own.

You try to scream at the images to stop, but as in most dreams, your voice is gone. That's how it was during the possession. Your consciousness screamed for control, for mercy, but the demon's unrelenting cruelty pushed you deep into the recesses of your own mind.

You scream again, mouth hanging wide as you voicelessly plead for the horror to end.

Dean sat up slowly, groggily trying to make out the neon red numbers on the digital clock on the nightstand above him. He was sleeping on the floor, as per usual when they could only afford a room with two beds. His self-sacrificing nature wouldn't let you sleep on the floor, and Sam had gotten injured on the last hunt, so it wasn't a question.

He heard a low groan from your bed, followed by a fabric-laden thrashing of limbs. In the dark, he could barely make out your body shuddering beneath the blankets, head tossing and chest rising and falling quickly with each belabored breath you took.

He knew the feeling. Hell, nightmares from his time downstairs still plagued him from time to time.

Dean stood and went to your side, bending over you to touch your shoulder. "Hey," he whispered, giving you a gentle shake. "Y/N. Wake up."

You didn't respond, so he shook you again, a little harder. "Y/N!" he hissed.

You wake with a gasp, flying upright, heart hammering in your chest. Hands shoot out to hold you and you struggle against their grip.

"Hey, hey," you hear a familiar voice whisper. "It's me. You're okay."

You blink rapidly as a pair of eyes slowly becomes clear to you in the dark, meeting your terrified gaze. Dean.

You heave a relieved sigh and lean forward, dropping your head on his shoulder. He takes you into his arms easily, all pretense of not caring about you forgotten.

"Jesus Christ," you whisper into his shoulder.

Dean rubs your back comfortingly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

"Better than what I was seeing."

He doesn't press, but lets you relax into his body as your heart rate slowly returns to normal.

"God, Dean," you say quietly after a while. "Does it ever stop?"

"No," he replies ruefully, one hand now stroking your hair. "I wish I could say it did."

Tears prick at your eyes as memories come flooding into your mind again. "I can't forget the things I did," you manage. "I can't ever unsee-"

Dean takes you by the shoulders and holds you away from him. "That wasn't you, ya hear me? How many times do I have to tell you it wasn't your fault?"

"I know, but it was still me, Dean." The tears are threatening to escape now, but you hold them back. You will not cry in front of this man, who has gone through so much worse. "These hands killed people."

Dean sighs, pulling you back into him. "I know. It's hard to deal, but you gotta try."

You shudder, tears finally rolling down your face and dampening his shirt. "I'm not... strong like you."

"I know you can do it," he whispers, hand finding your hair again, tangling in the strands. "You're stronger than you think. I don't know a lot of people who were conscious for that long during a possession and can still form a coherent thought, much less continue to hunt down these sons of bitches like you do."

You sniffle, turning your head into his neck. Deep in your heart of hearts, you know he's right.

"I know it's hard," Dean continues. "But if anyone can beat this, it's you. You're one badass lady." He chuckles, trying to lighten your mood.

Your heart melts at this. "Thanks," you whisper, tears subsiding.

"Think you can go back to sleep?" he asks gently.

"Not really," you say glumly. You pull away and hesitate deeply before asking in a small voice, "Can you... stay? With me?" Your eyes refuse to meet his. He's going to tell you to suck it up, you know it.

"Yes."

Your eyes flit up to his, surprised and relieved. Dean looks at you warmly, gently, before getting up and raising the covers, nudging you to the side as he lays down next to you.

You face him, feeling his hand travel up your hip and stop on your waist. A surge of bravery and emotion hits you, and you lean forward, leaving a gentle kiss on his lips. When you back away, he looks surprised, and for a moment you fear you've just done something that will make your friendship irrevocably damaged.

But he just pulls you into him, kissing your forehead and resting his chin atop your head, pressing you into his large body comfortingly.

You feel relieved for the millionth time that night. No more words need to be said. You fall asleep like that, nestled in his arms, breathing in his familiar, comforting scent.

[forsworned]

That Keegan post you made had me clutching my PEARLS! Your use of words was so masterfully done! I really loved the new vocab I learned while reading your work.

Your depiction of the relationship was also so so nice. Very loving and attentive and just so sweet. I could tell they loved one another and had already established boundaries that they knew they shouldn’t cross. The ending was lovely as well, a great way to tie things up.

Thank you for writing it! I’m excited to see what else your lovely brain comes up with!

-🧢

Whispers in the Woods: A Stranger's Shelter ft. OfftheGridCowboy!Keegan Russ

Sypnosis: When Keegan finds you petrified, running for your life from creatures unknown to you in the Haunted Appalachia trails after sundown, he takes you in for the night. Things get a bit crazy...

Warning(s): Mentions of Sexual Content, Violence, Petnames (?), Blood, Supernatural Horror (?), Eventual Smut, Barely Proofread, Reader is 28 and Keegan is 30, Reader is also AFAB

Word Count: 7.5k (enjoy keegan lovers ;)

Author's note: Blue cap anon thank you so much for inspiring me to write for Keegan. Honestly, I really love how this fic turned out and I hope you do too. I am so sorry I took so long to reply to you but you seriously warmed my heart so sosososo much when I read your message. I did not mean to put you on the back burner for this long/ Just know I have put so much effort into this to provide you a solid work so I hope that is a good enough excuse to have such a delayed response. Also so glad that you learned some new words LOL that really tickles me tbh, but I want to work more with the relationship that reader builds with Keegan in general or with any character x reader I write. So please enjoy this :)

edit: i think it's lowkey not living up to my expectations but ummm fuck it we ball

Sparks fly as the firewood in the pit crackles, casting an orange ember over you and the stranger sitting in front of you. His eyes, reminiscent of the cool, blueness of winter are lingering on you, and his heavy, leather jacket drapes over your shoulders to shield you from the chilliness of the early April evening. With his black cowboy hat slightly tilted upward, you note the black bandana covering most of his face, adding an air of mystery to his appearance.

"You really shouldn't be out here." His voice edges a precarious tone, though you cannot determine if it's toward you or whatever lurks in the abysmal woods. Maybe it was both. Your fingers curl around the distressed tanned hide, fiddling with the stitching of the material. A shudder careens through the columns of your spine, goosebumps trail over your skin, and the fuzz across your neck rises briefly.

"Don't look. Don't even acknowledge it." He instructs, steadying his gaze on you as he tinkers with the butterfly knife in his gloved hand. "W-what?" You gasp out, eyes reaming as your quivering vision sets on the embers of the pyre. A sinister presence harks over your convulsing body, heart palpitating out of your tightening sternum. But as soon as it arrives it departs and you're left heaving for the oxygen that was stripped from your lungs.

"I'm not gonna ask you again, what are you doin' walkin' around aimlessly in these mountains?" He repeatedly latches and unlatches the metal object in his hands, his gaze fixates on you. Truthfully, you were lost. When the engine of the old Dodge that you inherited from your grandfather abruptly cut out as you passed through a dead zone, it was all hauling ass from there on out. Classic damsel in distress situation.

Your father and he had both warned you about the Appalachian mountains. How apex predators inhabited the woods, preying on the innocent, ripping flesh apart on sight, or disappearing into the ghastly woods to never return. But, of course, you wrote it off as fearmongering. Never had you experienced the soul-crushing, harrowing existence of unidentified, cryptids lurking within the lacunas of the evergreens.

"My truck it—" You start to say, but the sound of him exhaling loudly cuts you off and you glance up at him with misery strewn across your features. Doe-eyes glimmering from the wetness that was welling in your oculars as your lips tremble. He outstretches his arm to the lantern on the perched log, "I've heard enough."

He begins to get up, extinguishing the flame, smothering it with what seemed to be a bag of salt and you felt fear creeping back into your system.

"Come on." As the pyre's embers fade, the lantern's switch emits a squeak, coaxing the oil flame to life, while the blood-curdling shrieks send shivers down your spine, ringing in your ears. And as if on cue, you cling to his side and he lets out a soft huff, feeling your arm coil around his.

The inferno acts as a bulwark from whatever is skulking around the both of you in the obscurity of the night as you move through the forest. You catch glimpses of shadows trekking about, seemingly running away from you now. A stark contrast from the previous frantic sprint through the woods in your petite, white frilly prairie dress that was now tattered at the edges and puffy sleeves. Now, you were safe. At least you certainly hope so.

A tiny light enters your line of sight in the distance, and you can only assume that that is his home. But you were still heeding the noises and images being molded in front of human eyes. It was as if the veil was lifted here, a supernatural existence in the vast mountains and woods of the Appalachia. You don't know whether to be terrified or fascinated, but you keep quiet as he silently leads you down the desire path to his home that is etching itself a little more into the horizon.

Approaching the home, you begin to notice the clandestine features of the house. A zephyr sweeps past you and the distinct smell of lavender and sage gently brims into your senses. You visibly shudder as the steps creak under your weight, your arm remains tucked into his own as he fishes out his keys and unlocks the door. Like a gentleman, he gestures to allow you in first and he follows closely behind, shutting it behind him.

"Shoes off at the door." He directs, treading past you as he tosses another piece of firewood into the lit fireplace.

What the fuck?

Is he just not going to acknowledge the paranormal manifestation that incurred upon them just now? The shadows of unearthly skinwalkers who infest the woods, who are prowling out there now as they barricade themselves from the outside? What is stopping them from forcefully intruding into his home?

You finally catch your breath for a moment, still feeling your heart hammering against your chest before you speak. "Are we not going to talk about what we just saw?"

"Nope." He simply replies, from another room and you blink back in surprise. Then it sinks in.

Of course, how could you forget? How can you forget the rules of the Appalachia, that were engrained into you as a child?

If you see something strange in the wilderness, no, you didn't.

If you hear something call your name, no, you didn't.

If you hear screaming in the Appalachian mountains, especially a woman's scream, no, you didn't. 

If you feel something stalking you, do not run.

Never, ever, whistle at night. 

Never go into the woods at night.

Never leave your windows open at night, even in the summer and honestly, the list dragged on and on and on.

Most of it falls on deaf ears never believing in the legends, and yet, here you are shaken up by things you never thought existed in a stranger's home who found it in his heart to shelter you until what you suppose would be dawn.

A wavering breath escapes you as you take a long gander at the well-maintained colonial home. The timeless and heirloom quality of the home becomes evident upon analyzing the vast array of paintings and framed photographs adorning the walls, each depicting individuals with strikingly similar features—dark brows, thick lashes, and mesmerizing steely blue eyes that seemed to penetrate your soul. You can't quite make out the framed artwork through your muzzy vision, but it's eerie the way you can't quite pinpoint why the face was so recognizable to you.

Exposed wooden ceiling beams motion your eyes to the inherited items and the mounted deer skull above the hearth. The warmth emanating from it felt different, soothing, lulling your quivery limbs. You oblige and kick off your boots, padding behind him as he draws out his gun from his holster and places it on the mahogany table. He removes his cowboy hat, hanging it on the horseshoe hat rack adjacent to the fireplace revealing his tousled short black locks. As he begins to unmask himself, a small gasp leaves your lips, fixating on his newly exposed features. And he was goddamn handsome and unusually reminiscent of someone from your childhood embarked into the backlogs of your memory, but of course, you brush it off.

And although he hears it, he does not acknowledge it as one hand grips the wooden chair and the other runs over his dark stubble. He's pensive. The last thing he needed was some heretic woman living under his roof for Lord knows how long. At this point, he decides that you are his responsibility and he cannot shirk from that for that would be unbecoming of a man like himself and he was raised better than that.

He glances up at the painting of his father above the hearth and you take note of the reflective state. His daddy was the embodiment of a Cowboy. Gentlemanly, charming, nifty, and always genial, providing the best hospitality a person could provide. No way, he'd accept Keegan kicking you to the curb, leaving you out for those creatures to rip you apart. Plus, his father would simply rise from his grave and kick his ass.

"You hungry?" He pays no mind to your lingering, bewitched eyes as he moves to the kitchen and you like a lost puppy trailing behind him. "Got some leftover potato leek soup."

And as if on cue, your stomach growls and he glances at your hand over your tummy. You flush from the embarrassment of your stomach being that raucous. He cocks a brow at you and you can't tell if he's amused or annoyed. Probably both. "Go sit." He points his chin to the table by the fireplace and you pad back to the living room, the tempering sensation of the flames causes you to become drowsy. You loll your head to analyze his stature. His figure towers over all of the antique appliances in the kitchen, muscles flexing as he prepares to reheat the soup on the stove. Rolling up his sleeves to reveal his taut, tanned forearms to open the cabinet and pull out the loaf of handmade sourdough, slicing it evenly and efficiently before tossing it in the toaster.

His form becomes a bit hazy as you lay your head against the top rail of the chair, mesmerized by the allure of his broadened shoulders, and soft pink lips that all by hide the peeking tongue indicating his concentration in preparing you a homecooked meal. Keegan never has guests over, in fact, no one is ever daft enough to come running around this way anyways because locals know better and tourists are too scared shitless to even enter this part of the Appalachia. He likes it like that, away from everything and everyone, being able to maintain his family's ranch that was inherited by him at the ripening age of 18.

His mother moved out to the suburbs because the death of his father was far too devasting on her already weary soul to continue living her days out on the farm. But Keegan doesn't mind it. He handles the livestock with ease, providing care to the birthing cattle, and maintaining the operations of the facilities as a whole to keep his honest living thriving. It's all in a good day's work for him. So caring after you shouldn't be too much of a hassle right?

You're suddenly awoken to the soft clatter of the bowl being set on the wooden table, the savory aroma of potato leek soup, and freshly toasted sourdough bread. He sets a glass of water beside you before he pulls his seat adjacent to you with his food.

"Eat." He orders, waiting for you to take a spoonful of thick soup. You hesitantly lift the spoon before glancing up at him. He blinks back at you, realizing the weight of his indiscretion, and whisks the soup with his spoon before noshing on it as if to tell you that is not poisoned nor drugged. Your other hand takes the bread in between your fingers and he mirrors your actions, claiming a bite from his own and you visibly relax.

The soup is scalding to the touch, but you welcome the sensation when you get a taste of the heavenly whipped soup. Not a single lump, just the smoothest, most savory supping of such a simple hearty soup instantly heartening your disconcerting body right down to your unsteady hand.

"I'll fix your truck as soon as dawn breaks." He flashes a glance before breaking his bread and scooping it into his soup. "Make yourself comfortable in the guest bedroom." He gestures with his hand to the upstairs.

"Oh, I couldn't—" You begin to say, but he will have none of it.

"You're not going out there until the sun's out." He replies simply, as he lifts his glass of water and sips from it. You observe the way his Adam's apple oscillates under his stubbly throat and you swallow thickly when you realize he's gazing at you keenly.

Warmth spreads to your cheeks and your eyes are now following the pattern of the wood grain. "That's…very kind of you."

"'s just the human thing to do." And there is an emphasis on the word 'human'.

You begin to play with your soup, scooping it up and letting it fall back into the bowl. "Right." Your voice is soft as you try to block out the memory just moments ago.

He narrows his eyes as if to study you. "What's your name?"

You glance up at him, and you're almost a bit hesitant to tell him. You almost want to lie, but you decide otherwise. "[Name], and yours?"

"Keegan."

"Keegan what?" You press. He raises a brow at you as he chews on his bread.

"Russ."

Russ. An esteemed surname that was echoed throughout your household during your adolescence. Presley Russ was a handsome and genial man who appeared at your father's porch steps every so often, tipping his hat at you with that charming smile and those glacial hues that made your heart jump. He'd invite your daddy out for nights at the rodeo or sipping on Highland Gaelic Ales on the porch from the afternoon til midnight, biding his time between Maryland and North Carolina.

You never quite caught glimpses of his son when you were living out on the ranch before you moved out for college, but you did remember a time when you ventured out past sunset in the abandoned village in the Black Hills you knew better than to be in when your daddy had to travel to Wheaton for the grand opening of his old buddy, Presley's restaurant accompanied by his reclusive son who you never remembered the name of. But for God's sake, who was stupid enough to go treading alone around the same location as the filming of the Blair Witch Project?

But you were a skeptic at best until you heard the unrelenting repetition of your name being called which led you astray, causing you to stumble over your own feet and ultimately collide with a rock that rendered you unconscious. Soon enough, you felt yourself being carried back to your home in the arms of the Russ boy with the hardened steely gaze that intently stared down at the knot forming on your forehead. You had never shut your eyes so quickly and the sound of his soft chuckle, caused you to be even more embarrassed as you were being handed off to your worried parents who were more than relieved and thankful to have retrieved you.

Of course, you had to act like you were unconscious. It was already humiliating enough that you were old enough to know better, but being ferried by a cute boy like you were some helpless damsel in distress was just mortifying.

But that was long forgotten by you in hazy summer days during your teen years before you went off to college and moved out into the city. In reality, you had written it off as a dream, a hallucination concocted by that vivid and graphic imagination of yours. That was always the case with you and the Appalachia. Always the non-believer.

But part of you was hoping that maybe he didn't recognize you after all this time, and yet the way he is staring you down is beginning to feel like otherwise.

"Blair." He suddenly says matter-of-factly as he taps his finger at the table and nods again. "Blair." A small toothy grin creeps on his lips before he chuckles.

Your eyes reaming as your heart drops to your stomach. "What?"

"Black Hills, you're the daughter of the farmer right up in Garrett County."

You feel the warmth blooming on your cheeks. He knew. "I—How do you remember that?"

"Knew you looked familiar." He dives back into his steaming soup. "Was tryin' to figure out where I'd seen that necklace of yours." He juts his chin, pointing to the family heirloom that kisses your clavicle. It had been passed down for generations to the women in your family as a symbol of health, wisdom and longetivity. You feel for the 20k gold pendant with lilac and sage engraved into the soft metal.

He looks as if he's stifling another snicker. "Think you pissed yourself a little when I found you unconscious."

Now that gets you real flared up. The abrupt change in mood was beginning to wrack your nerves. You sigh knowing that at the very least you were in good hands. Familiarity begins to set in as he breaks the ice, creating a more comfortable atmosphere between you two.

"I did not!" You puff your cheeks out at him and he's tickled pink by your endearing, agitated reactions.

His gleeful grin only grows to his eyes. "Now, who willing goes into the woods by themselves when they know damn well what kind of activity breeds over there, hm? Gotta death wish if you ask me, kid."

You open your mouth to say something, but it clamps shut. You don't know whether to be abashed by the way his face lights up like the stars in the heavens above, or by the fact that he remembers that you pissed yourself a little through your favorite pair of khaki parachute shorts in a known marked area where people have gone missing. The stark realization of it being a tangible memory was mussing at your trepidation towards him. But he's teasing you now and it stirs a strange kind of desire in your lower belly as you uncomfortably shift in your creaky wooden seat.

Pushing your bowl away, you avoid responding by guzzling down your water and then calmly placing it back down.

"I'd like to get ready for bed now, if you don't mind."

He jovially raises his eyebrows as he munches on the last of his bread. The smirk still curled up on the corners of his pinkened lips.

He wipes the crumbs off his hands and thumbs either side of his mouth before he gets up, gesturing to you. " 'Course not."

You stand up and politely push your chair in as you track behind him up the croaking staircase. Your body is practically heaving with every step and by the top of it, you're feeling a bit winded. Keegan decides to keep his comments to himself as he ushers you down the grandiose hallway. The walls are painted ivory, and wall sconces are tapered candles on held-up aged tin nailed into the parapet. Hardwood floors are well kept, but the small divots in between the grain quickly reveal the age.

He jingles the knob to what you suppose is the guest bedroom, but it seems to be locked. His fingers fish into his pocket and you watch as he phalanges through the set and then finally picks out the antiquated rusty skeleton key. It's honestly a bit jarring that it requires a key to fasten the door, but at this point, if you're being kept away from the monsters lurking outside you'd be happy to be his little prisoner for now.

He pushes the door and it moans open, though much to your surprise it's polished and orderly. In the middle of the room is a wooden four-poster queen-sized bed, with a princess-like sheer white canopy that surreptitiously envelops the bed. The furniture is a bit more romantic with detailed carved patterns on the bookshelves that line up against the wall to the vanity that sat adjacent to the bed. The carmine curtains that drape over the large window, easily maneuver you to the balcony, and the soft calling of your name beckons you to open it…

A sturdy hand clasps over your shoulder and you jolt as you turn to him. He's shaking his head as he towers over you and you look so goddamn feeble with those damn bambi eyes of yours shimmering in the tiny sliver of moonlight that peeks out from the window. He tears his gaze away to tread over to the window, squeezing it shut with the velcro he sewed into the fabric and reinforces the window shut.

A sharp exhale leaves his nostrils and his eyes are on you again. "I totally can see why you ended up the way you did." He glimpses over your dirtied and frayed dress, skinned, bloodstained knees, and contusions running up and down your legs. God, he makes it so easy to feel self-conscious.

He licks his lips as he hovers his hand over the knob to his right, and signals you over. You begrudgingly stride over and you're just as impressed at the bathroom. From the massive mirror above the traditional wooden undermount double sink vanity to the wine-red clawfoot freestanding bathtub. Little golden trinkets pinstripe the rosy walls with the soft warm lighting of the hanging flowery ceiling light fixtures. You squint your eyes when he adjusts the radiance to a white glow with the dimmer light switch before he opens the drawers one by one.

"Towels, robes, spare clothes, toiletries. Gimme a shout if you need anything else."

You open your mouth to say something and his eyes playfully narrow at you. "—within reason, missy."

Your bottom lip reflexively juts out. You hate to admit it, but you were quite the spoiled child. Never receiving more than a gentle chide from your parents and always silver-spooned to the nines by your grandparents. The truck was an exception. More of a parting gift from your grandfather that was left to you for the sole purpose of memorabilia scored into every inch of the tarnished vehicle. You hope that Keegan is capable of fixing it since most parts were made by discontinued distributors and they were definitely not easy to come by as they were expensive.

"Christ, spoiled rotten, weren't ya?" He ribs, nudging you a bit and you frown at him.

"Was not." You childlessly retort, but the small smile on your face betrays your feeble attempt at contempt.

Fuck, she is so cute. Keegan thinks as he assimilates your hilly yet winsome appearance. Just as cute as he remembers when he was seventeen, ignorant of the malignancy that poisoned his father's lungs.

"Not as much as your daddy spoiled you." You shoot back and cover your mouth with your hands as his brows lift in half surprise and half revelry.

"Blair's got jokes now, huh?" The elicitive nickname indicative of your former years sends another rushing warmth to your face and you begin to shoo him out.

"I'd really like to be clean now, thank you." You cast a scowl his way and he's putting his hands up in surrender as he backs out of the bathroom followed by the bedroom.

"I take it that the lady needs her privacy now." He leans against the doorframe with his hands stuffed into his denim jean pockets that are dusty and darkened with wood ash and the smell of the campfire lingers on his skin.

"And her beauty sleep." You add on, folding your arms. His jacket is still resting over your shoulders and he chuckles at your Hello Kitty print socks. The way your hair was mussed up in the soft glow of the lantern lamp on the night table was starting to arouse him a bit.

Fuckkkkkk, you were so adorable. It might have taken every atom in his body not to bend you over the mattress and spank you for being such a dotty woman before pressing his cock past your velvety folds as he makes you apologize in the form of incoherent, dirty little whimpers.

But the thought is quickly dismissed as it's formed in the sullied cogitations of his mind.

"Good night, [name]." He murmurs in his husky voice yet there is a hint of mischief in his tone that sends a frisson up your spinal column.

"Good night, Keegan." You susurrate, as you slowly shut the door and his expression remains the same as your view of him narrows until it disappears behind the threshold.

"Christ." You mutter to yourself as you begin to get ready for bed, as you feel the rush of collywobbles in your stomach start to well up a craving for the cowboy. The time on your cracked phone screen reads 2:03 AM and a wave of exhaustion crashes over you at the realization. Had you really been out there for seven hours?

The warm water soothes your aching bones and forming scabs scattered across your body as you gently exfoliate your skin. Thankfully, Keegan had enough sense to drop off a first aid kit by your door before you slipped into the bath. You weren't looking forward to the sting of the antiseptic, but you were more than grateful to be alive and have all your limbs attached. As you close your eyes and let the sudsy bath take away your worries, a coaxing voice is entrancing you. At first, it begins as a hushed lull intermingled with what sounds like your name and a bit of white noise that makes your brain all fuzzy and warm, but it becomes audible. Forming coherent luring words that resemble Keegan's deep, raspy voice.

Drown, drown, drown.

And you promptly find yourself submerging into the tub and the stillness of the water is subduing, but something is instigating you to open your eyes. You push away the thought, taking in the tranquility, settling into the comforting sensation of weightlessness. And yet, the feeling is not leaving you. You internally sigh as you move your body to the surface, but you remain dormant. Your eyes shoot open and your blood runs cold.

Above is one of the most fear-inducing creatures that you have ever laid your eyes upon holding you down on either side of your shoulders with slender claws digging into your flesh. It resembles a caribou skull with elongated antlers but its eyes were a violent vermillion that penetrates your soul. Its body was dark, rickety, and harrowing. Bones astute against the matted onyx fur and its tongue hanging out of his jaw like it was ready to devour you. Panic surges through your veins as you thrash about but it drives its talons further into your skin and you shriek out in pain. Water enters your lungs, your heart is stammering at cardiac arrest speed and you're choking out for dear life. This is it. This is how you die and the worst part about it is, you couldn't even call out for hope from the man who saved you just moments ago.

But just as you're accepting your fate, the muffled sound of a gunshot pierces through the air and within seconds the skinwalker is incapacitated and then dead. Soon enough, you're being hoisted out by Keegan's strong hands, as you cling onto him naked, wet, and heaving for oxygen.

Water expels out from your esophagus and you're trembling even harder than you were before when he found you, grasping to him and he's immediately talking you down.

"It's alright, you're okay. You're okay." He soothes, one hand tenderly caressing your soddened hair and the other is gripping your body tight as he pulls you out of the tub. He wastes no time unplugging the drain and wrapping you in a large towel to cover your naked body. In all seriousness, Keegan didn't even take a second to gander at your naked form when he was gathering you out of the tub and he makes that clear that his sole objective was to eliminate the wendigo that trespassed into your sanctuary.

He could've sworn that he had locked up every single opening in the house as he does every single night. It was like clockwork to him ever since his father had shown him the ropes to the place.

"…Kee-keegan." You splutter out as you continue to clutch onto him and your body is saturating him with water. He doesn't care though, that was the least of his worries. Your eyes are reaming and glossy as you dare to peek down at the creature that was seconds away from letting you meet your maker, but there's nothing but ash on the tiled floor.

"It was—" You begin, peering up at his harking steely eyes and his jaw tightens.

"It's gone."

"I don't understand." You shake your head, trying to make sense of what just happened, but the soft clatter of the rifle hitting the bathroom counter delineates your scattered mind. "Oh. But—"

"Get dressed." He softly prompts and you shakily let go of his t-shirt and he hands you an eggshell-colored peignoir as he averts his gaze. He's cognizant of the post-distress and panic you're in, so makes no indication of reallocating himself away from you as you slip on the fabric nor does he provide an explanation for what just occurred.

And to be honest, you didn't want to know. There was nothing more disturbing than the encounter with death in the form of a mutated caribou that leaves you shaken up. Everything just seemed too difficult to wrap your little head around, so let him take care of you.

A fresh towel is on your head, soaking up the wetness tangled into your hair and you relax at his balmy touch.

"Thank you." You mutter as your eyes are cast downward, eyeing the imbued, darkened spots on his nightshirt.

He delicately hooks his index finger and thumb between your chin and lifts it upward as he dabs at your features with the towel. And then it lingers. His intense yet pensive gaze, his stout calloused thumb that is now brushing against your jaw shortly followed by your quivering bottom lip. His jaw ticks.

"I'll sleep in here tonight."

Your heart jumps rampantly against your chest. "What?"

"You almost died if it weren't for me."

"Yes, but it's not—!" You fall short of words yet again and you're tearing your gaze away from him. As dire as the situation was (and it was), Keegan cannot help himself from being just the tiniest bit entertained by your endearing little mannerisms.

"I'm not gonna sleep next to you in bed." He deadpans. Normally, he would let you stumble over your words, but exhaustion is seeping into his bones and even as a noceur himself he was in desperate need of some z's. "The armchair over there quite comfy."

You follow his eyes to the brown leather recliner that was beside the bed and then back to him.

"I'm tired, Keegan." You profess, leaning your head against his chest and he's absentmindedly rubbing circles into the small of your back.

"I know."

Typically, you wouldn't be this comfortable with a stranger but given the unusual circumstances that were currently trying to slaughter your ass, you found yourself seeking solace in him.

"Let's get you into bed."

And soon he's leading you back to the bedroom, his hand is still on the small of your back as you walk on wobbly legs. He peels off the comforter and you sink into the mattress feeling like royalty in your crisp, clean nightgown, in your large princess-like bed, surrounded by plush pillows as the light in the lantern flickers. It casts shadows over his dashing features. The flame turns his glacial eyes into a soft apricot and an expression flickers over his visage—concern.

He's harping over your safety and the intruder that happened to bypass his heavily guarded home. No tripped wires, no movement detected on his cameras, and not to mention not a single sound was made until he heard your thrashing in his room across the hall. If he hadn't been there in time—

"You saved me, though." You drone, shutting your eyes as you tuck yourself into the cotton sheets.

His hardened glare softens at your words and how you look at ease now. A testament to your full, unshakeable faith in him. God, you were so quick to trust, it honestly scared him a little for you.

He scoffs. "How can you be so sure that I wouldn't hurt you?"

"Because your father would resurrect and beat the absolute shit out of you if you even dared to think about harming me." You state with a sly smirk on your face.

Keegan's expression briefly falters before he lets out a snicker, acknowledging the truth in your bold proclamation. "Crafty little critter, aren't ya?"

You giggle as shift under the sheets. It's almost a bit disturbing how you are seemingly fine and brushing off the situation. "Maybe."

He peers down at you for a moment and the welcoming feeling of your radiance starts to crawl into his chest. Almost like you were right where you needed to be, in his home, in his bed under his safeguarding. He wants nothing more than that. It's almost a bit perturbing how you are seemingly fine.

"Go to sleep." You mumble.

"You go to sleep."

"No, you first,"

"Who else is going to shield you against creatures of the night?"

You pause for a moment. "Good point."

He smiles as he walks over to the armchair, gun propped up against his left leg as he sits to face you. You're already curling up in a ball, and your chest rises and falls at a tranquil pace.

"Good night, Blair." He feels his eyes drooping as his vision becomes bleary.

You chuckle at the idiotic nickname. "Good night, Cowboy."

The remnants of tiny, foolish smiles are left on your faces as you drift off to sleep in your respective spaces. The last passing thought that crosses your mind is Keegan's tender gaze and his fingers brushing against your lips. Keegan wonders what is making you so giddy before the world around him fades out.

As morning breaks, sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on the room. The spring breeze wafts into the wisps of your hair and your eyes flutter open. The seat in front of you is now empty and the balcony door is wide open, and yet you're calm as you rise out of bed. Birds are chirping and the incessant droning of cicadas buzzing loudly against your eardrums is merely white noise when you recognize the low rumble of your truck's engine pulling up. There is an urgency that surges within you and soon you're sprinting out the door, and the heat of the cobblestone stings at the soles of your feet but you don't care.

The engine cuts and Keegan climbs out of the truck, sleeves rolled up in his army green henley, and he's wearing a clean pair of relaxed, light-wash jeans that skim the leather of his Tecovas. He peers up at you with wintry hues, tipping his hat, and in that instant, you're transported back to your childhood—Mr. Russ, tipping his hat with those same eyes and that glorious smile that always made your heart race.

The resemblance was both striking and uncanny, but damn, you were totally not complaining.

"Mornin', little lady. You're up quite early." He puts his hands on his hips and he's no longer the stone-faced, vendetta-filled Cowboy that you met last night. He's your friendly Appalachian Cowboy who provides you the sweet, sweet southern hospitality with a charming smile and a bit of a North Carolinian twang that sets your groins on fire.

"Mornin', Cowboy. Fixed my truck, did you?" You lean against the French iron wrought railing with your ruffled hair and white nightgown, rippling in the slight draft that carries the healing scent of sage and lavender. The fabric forms around your body and Keegan notices how it traces the outline of your curves and how the sun is hitting you just perfect enough for you to look like a literal angel.

But it's still the unrelenting, disconcerting feeling that creeps up on him when he looks up at you so unbothered, airheaded with that buoyant grin on your face. Was it really just a facade?

"Fixed it good enough for you to get back on your way." He turns from you to the truck and then back to you. "By the way, where were you headed?"

"Back to the old man." You cross your leg over the other, waiting for his response. He watches as the skin of your legs peeks out from under the peignoir and it's a bit enticing.

"I didn't contact him if that's what you're askin'" His hand acts like a sun visor to block the light out of his sensitive eyes to take a good gander at you.

"I would hope not. Don't need to send him into cardiac arrest." You joke and you see his shoulders shaking a bit, suggesting a chuckle.

"Made you breakfast."

"Yeah?" You simper, leaning a little more against the railing.

He can't help the way his grin broadens as he peers up at your flirty form. "Careful now, can't have you comin' back home with a broken neck, can we?"

Shit. Shit. Shiiiiit.

Goddamn him and his pretty face. He's already heading inside as you're locking in on him, but Keegan isn't one to give you the satisfaction. He'll play the long game and he'll enjoy every minute of it. From the way you're sitting next to him at the table with your dress bunched up to your thighs to the way you sensually lick your spoon covered with cream and he's internally chuckling at the mess you've made on the corners of your lips, feigning gullibility to get a rise out of him. Admittedly, it's hot. He wants nothing more than to lick your fingers clean and sloppily kiss your sweet cream-laden lips.

Mmmm.

He doesn't say anything. Just enjoys his breakfast and keeps his gaze lowered like a gentleman. The company of a beautiful woman is enough for him on a fine Sunday morning like this.

You can only wonder what he's thinking as you act like a giddy schoolgirl who's trying to get the attention of her professor. Not that you had a significant age gap with Keegan, but in his original line of work there was a massive lapse. Being a retired Marine had probably mentally aged him over give or take 10 years would have been your best guess. And leaving the farm to his cousins in his absence probably impacted him even more, well, according to your gossip girl of a father at least.

He made trips down to NC every so often to check on his favorite, reclusive cowboy, sometimes tending to his facilities when need be. You never tagged along though. In your mind, you were a city girl who didn't mind dressing up as a cowgirl if she saw fit. So coming down from your city job, in the comfort of your sweet loft that overlooked the NOVA skyline didn't exactly make you miss the Appalachia trails.

Still, it is nice being back here with a somewhat familiar stranger in a home you had only seen the outside of because, for the majority of your life, you had so desperately tried to force out the rural in you. Call it toxic, but leaving the mountains always felt like the haze had lifted from your brain. It was unsettling to be here for too long.

"You're nervous."

You glance up from the runny eggs that you have been working on for the past twenty minutes. You give him a sheepish grin. "This place makes me nervous."

"Itching to go back to the city, huh?"

That elicits a small chuckle from you. "And what do you know about me?"

"Well, according to your father," He says in a knowing tone and you narrow your eyes at him as he gives you a coy smile. "you love the city too much to move back."

"I don't think I'm too good for it. Here, I mean."

"Didn't say that. The Appalachia isn't for everyone." He butters his toast and then munches on it and soon it vanishes into his mouth. The night before is washed away from your memory, but Keegan loses track of his thoughts as he stares at the leftover jagged lines embedded into your skin from a creature that he knew you wanted to forget. A glance at his watch and he's up, wiping his hands and mouth with the serviette that was on his lap before he places it on the table. "You ready?"

"You got somewhere to be?" You raise your brows, not quite ready to leave yet.

"Matter o'fact I gotta date with an employee from Tractor Supply Co in about an hour, and it's thirty minutes out."

"New livestock?" You sip at your coffee.

A sad smile graces his lips. "Yeah, my last eldest cattle just passed away a few weeks ago."

You frown. "I'm sorry."

For a moment you swear you saw him get teary-eyed, but he quickly shakes himself out of the grief, grabbing his keys as he downs his glass of ice water. He stops himself for a moment as you get up to push your chair in and he can't help himself from tracing his fingers over the claw marks on either side of your shoulders. You shudder from the remembrance and his touch.

"[name]," He starts to express but your mood sours.

"Stop."

His expression falters and so does his hand as he lets it drop to his side. You didn't want to remember any of it. He notices how you clutch onto your necklace and he drops the subject.

"Your trucks waiting." He takes your hand and deposits the keys into your palm.

You give him a tight-lipped smile. "Thank you."

You begin to approach your truck and you feel relief washing over you as you run your hand over the tarnished, rusted hood of the Dodge before you open the driver door. As you climb in you notice that all your belongings remain untouched. Scattered cassette tapes, polaroids, and the little Hawaiian girl that swayed with every movement still plastered onto the dash. The leather seats seem to have abrasions, revealing the cushion beneath, but you write it off as a bear maybe deciding to try and access your vehicle after you had abandoned it.

"…[name], ….[name]….!"

You're snapped out of your stupor, recollecting your thoughts as you glance over at him leaning his body against your truck. "I checked the vehicle, it's all clear for you to go. Should make it back alright."

"Why wouldn't it be if you fixed the engine?"

The look you give him is blank, free from concern and any worry that may have been left on your face from last night.

He nods, pushing his hands into his jean pockets. "Right, well, it was nice seeing you all grown up."

That provokes a reaction. Heat is rising to your cheeks and Keegan is standing there looking cool as ever as he takes off his hat and wipes the sweat off his brow before putting it back on.

"Thank you." You say with more feeling, only your eyes acknowledging the horrors of last night. And that's enough for Keegan.

"You take care now." He tips his hat with a good-natured grin and you snicker at his little cowboy bit.

He waves to you as you back out of his driveway and you glance over from your rearview mirror as his towering figure disappears and so does any anamnesis from the evening prior. Or at least, you told yourself that.

And that was April. Months have gone by and Keegan doesn't exactly expect you to keep in contact. He's even surprised to hear a, '[name], says hello, by the way.' from your father during their weekly check-in.

And he definitely does not expect to see your truck in his driveway when he's coming back from milking his cows for the day with his new set of eyes that's in dog form, wagging her tail in anticipation as she sits.

"German Shepherd, eh? Suits you." You simper at him, leaning against the pillar of his home with glossy lips, and a cutesy red paisley swing dress that just barely covers your thighs. Your boots are hardly broken in as they dig into the grassy field and your hair is a little disheveled in an endearing way.

"Name's Miley." He peels off his gloves, shoving them into his back pocket. He's completely taken aback by your sudden presence, though he's not one to complain about a pretty lady showing up at his door.

"Hey, Miley." You coo, holding your hand to her and she's immediately reciprocating your energy tenfold as she jumps up and down, causing you to giggle and pet her soft fur.

Keegan doesn't even need to say anything as he glances down at the German Shepherd and she's already sitting on the ground between you two.

"Miss me?" You ask, coyly.

"Could ask you the same thing, Blair." He tilts his head to the side, eyeing you suspiciously. Something was off.

"I was just in town."

"Uh huh."

It doesn't take long before the act drops and distress is carving into your features. Lips are trembling in fear as your eyes begin to water.

"Something's been following me, Keegan." Your body naturally falls against his chest and his breath hitches a bit at your contact and the smell of your perfume wafts into his senses.

Fuck.

mini taglist: @keegansshark @soapsgf @milkteaarttime

[criswritessometimes]

hickey blurbs - (3/3) - charlie

contents - hickeys, charlie editing, gn reader, no use of (y/n)

ted schlatt

it was busy days where you couldn't see charlie as much as you wanted. you got to your office at 8am and were busy with this, that, and the other and didn’t leave until almost 6:30. to say you're tired would be an understatement. when you finally get home, you don’t see your boyfriend, charlie, sitting on the couch waiting for you. you hear his mouse and keyboard clicking from the office and assume he’s recording. you stay quiet as you head into your shared bedroom to change your work clothes. 

as you’re changing, you don't hear charlie make a peep, and you guess he’s editing. once you've changed into more comfortable clothes, you head towards his office, slowly opening the door in case he happens to be in the middle of something. his eyes catch the movement of the door and glance over to your figure walking in. “hey baby,” he smiles, taking his headphones off, “how was your day?” he asks, saving his video and giving you his full attention. you rub your face, “just so long.” you begin to walk over to his chair to sit with him, “excuse sorry, yeah.” you whisper to him as you climb onto his lap as you’re facing him with your legs on either side of his and one of his hands holding your back. “yeah?” he asks, his head moving to rest on top of yours. his hand rubs up and down your back. you rest your chin on his shoulder and begin your tale about your day, “jerry wasn’t there so i had to do his end of year reports for his department and do the format for it and all the bullshit. i sent it to jerry’s boss, whoever that is and he said that i did it wrong!” you complain, “oh fuck that jerry guy.” charlie chimes in. “yeah jerry sucks. but i had to redo it again and i didn’t finish it until after lunch and then! i still had to do all my work for the day and it took forever.” charlie kisses the top of your head as an apology as he’s still trying to focus on his editing but still giving you attention. “but now i'm home with you and that's all that matters.” you nuzzle into his shoulder, shutting your eyes to relax a bit. your arms wrap around his neck as you ask, “how was your day love?” “it was fine. i recorded and i had a vision for the edit and final so i didn’t send it to the editor. i've been working since around 4ish on and then you came home.”

he leans his head down to kiss you but only ends up kissing your cheek. his hand continues to rake up and down your back. as your eyes are still shut, you hear a pause in clicking from charlie and feel his hand on his mouse move to under your chin to lift it to kiss you. your lips met his in a chaste kiss before he went back to his work. for you, this wasn’t enough attention. as your head moves back to his shoulder, you see how close to his neck you are and plant a kiss on it. his hand starts to lightly scratch your back to let you know he feels it. you decide to bite the spot you kissed and hear him sharply inhale through his nose. you giggle a little at the reaction. he changes the audio output so he can continue editing, and you can continue to eat his neck like it’s dinner. you happily do, moving all around the column of his neck, going from his pulse point, which earned you a whimper, all the way down to his collarbone. “do you have any meetings this week?” you ask; it was already too late to ask, but you still did out of consideration. “hmm yeah, i have a meeting with the editor tomorrow, why?” he replies, oblivious to the state his neck was in. you pull back and look at him guiltily, “you uh know that hoodie i got you with the tall neck, cowl thing,” he nods in agreement, “you uhh may wanna wear it tomorrow.” he pulls out his phone to check his camera, “why is it that ba- oh my god sweetheart.” he looks at his phone in horror as it looks like he was shot in close range by a paintball gun. his hands run over the bruises, “oh wait i kinda like the color you got on this one.” he points to one on the lower right side of his neck. you laugh at the comment and he smiles at continuing to rub your back.

[stars4gojo]

Whispers in the Dark

Gojo x reader, small Drabble and it’s just lots of fluff! 258 words 

You've been lying in bed for the past four hours, hyper aware of every creak and rustle from outside. Trying to ignore the fear that was creeping inside.

“Satoru, we really shouldn’t have watched that horror movie,” you finally broke the silence, your voice carrying the weight of hours of fear and nervousness.

Your boyfriend who was sleeping peacefully beside you, stirred at your words, mumbling an incoherent response.

“Satoru ‘m serious. I’m scared,” you whimpered, feeling somewhat pathetic as he slept soundly, drool escaping his open mouth, clearly unaffected by the film you had watched together hours ago.

Gojo slowly opened his eyes, reaching for his phone on the bedside table to check the time. It read 4 am. 

“Are you really scared?” he mumbled, rubbing his eyes to wake himself up a bit, trying to make out your face in the darkness.

“How can you not be?” you asked in disbelief.

“Baby, it was just a movie. It’s not real. Come here,” he cooed, pulling you closer as if you weren’t already impossibly entwined.

He sighed before speaking again, concern evident in his voice. “How long have you been awake?”

“Been trying to sleep for the last four hours…” you mumbled back, hearing a snort of amusement from him.

You knew he wasn’t thrilled about being woken at this hour, but you also knew he wanted you to get a good night’s rest.

“I’m really sorry for waking you up, Toru. I just didn’t know what to do,” you admitted calmly, resting your head on his chest.

He shook his head in response, gently stroking your hair. “It’s okay. Just close your eyes,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

There is silence momentarily before your thoughts take over. 

“But what if someone breaks in?” you gulped, looking up at him in the dark.

He chuckled softly before replying, “The doors are locked.”

“Well, they could break in through the windows,” you argued with furrowed eyebrows. 

“We both know that’s not happening, and I’ll make sure of it,” he hummed reassuringly, his eyes still closed.

You took a deep breath, choosing to trust him this time. Your breathing slowly synced with his, and finally, you drifted into sleep.

Note: hi guys I’m back! I haven’t written since the start of the year so sorry if the work is a little rusty🤞 I’ll get back to regular writing now that summer is here!! Requests r open btw🩵🩵

[kisses4reid]

warnings: mentions of being unlovable, angst, happy ending, love.

Spencer’s hands wrung with each other, the cool breeze in the car park pushing his hair from his forehead, “I love you.”

You blinked, heart sinking into the pit of your stomach, breath catching. You stood in horror, gulping and immediately lowering your gaze to anything but Spencer.

To yourself, you were an outcast in every sense of the word. No one likes you, and no one would pick you out of a room full of people. Why would they, anyways? You’re you, and you can never change that. Who would want to be stuck with you? Anyone who’s ever admitted to liking or loving you had told you it was a mistake, that you wasted their time, they should’ve spent their time on something worthwhile.

You didn’t want to put Spencer through that.

“And it’s completely fine if you don’t feel the same it’s just- I know we say we won’t profile each other but I kind of think that you might- maybe- like me back and-“

“Stop, Spencer.” You looked down at your heels, shifting your weight nervously.

Spencer obliged and gulped, eyebrows furrowing. His nerves were visually increasing, as were yours. The wind was loud, so was your heart.

“Spencer,” you sighed. How could you do this to him? Deny his affection, when it’s the one thing you crave, the one thing you’ve been thinking about for the past two years. “Spencer. You can’t do that.”

His face crinkled in confusion and then relief, “I know, it’s a bad place to confess things- We could go down to the park in front of your house or, that café you like?” He had a smile on his face, a cute one, one you didn’t want to leave.

“You can’t love me Spencer.” You replied, holding his gaze, heart breaking when his face dropped.

“Oh.”

Your eyes searched each other’s, and you felt like you would throw up at any second.

You turned to go, assuming that would be it. The end of your friendship, the end of your feelings and his. Until his voice croaked,

“Why not?”

You stopped, your car was only a few short steps away, tears brimming your eyes. Turning, you took a breath and decided avoiding his eyes was the best way you were going to get through this without crying. You’ve cried in front of him before, you’ve lied as well, and you’ve told him secrets nobody else knows. Why hold it back now? Why hide yourself from someone who loves you?

He won’t for long though. That’s how it always goes.

“You just can’t. It’s not… right-“

“All we have to do is talk to HR-“

“You don’t love me Spencer. You don’t, you won’t. Not now, not in the future. It doesn’t happen with me, okay? You just need some sleep and, I don’t know,” you ran your shaking fingers through your hair, tears welling onto mascara covered lashes before Spencer moved and grabbed your hand tight.

“You don’t know that! I do love you, Y/n. More than anything else,”

“No you don’t-“

“You don’t know how I feel-“

“I know how you will feel.”

Spencer flinched, hand dropping yours, the sudden absence of his touch freezing your wrists. He took a breath and trailed your face with his eyes, squinting them in disbelief.

“Y/n. I’ve loved you for years, nothing has changed- if anything my love for you has increased which statistically goes against everything that research suggests about relationships but I truly do believe it.”

A shiver ran down your spine, a tear rolled down your cheek. He looked sorrowful and hurt. You had caused it.

“I’m sorry Spencer.”

His shoulders slumped, “D-don’t say sorry. I respect your decision, um.”

“I love you too.”

The words escaped you before you could even think them, your eyes mirroring Spencer’s wide ones. And you continued with no second thought, “I have loved you, but, I don’t want to lose you.”

“How could you lose me?”

“Everyone I love leaves. It’s because of me. I don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

You stared at each other for seconds, moments, what felt like minutes. You hadn’t even realised you’d been sobbing until a tear drop landed on your shoes.

“Y/n you aren’t unloveable. I’m living proof. Let me be proof, please. I will love you and stay with you until I can’t tie my own shoes and my dentures fall into my oatmeal.” He looked tired, disappointed. He had worked up all of this courage, done all of the confirmation you might have liked him back- and you did! But why, why, weren’t you letting it happen? “I can love you, I won’t get hurt, you won’t hurt me. The only thing I’ve seen you hurt it your own ankle trying to chase the ice cream truck outside Rossi’s house. Please, Y/n.” You stood a metre apart, but he closed it, “Please,” and took your hands.

Your heart pounded and you looked into his eyes. There was something there you’d never seen before. Eagerness, longing, yearning.

“Okay.” You whispered.

“What?”

“Okay.”

“Really?” Spencer broke out into a smile, causing you to slowly grin.

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god, thank you.”

taglist (open!!): @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es

[inkspiredwriting]

Shadows of the Past

Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader

Warnings: none

Five Hargreeves was no stranger to nightmares. The years of apocalyptic desolation and time jumps had left indelible marks on his psyche. But tonight, as the shadows of his past clawed at his mind, the terror felt different—more intense, more suffocating.

In the dead of night, Five’s body tensed and jerked, his breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. He was trapped in a nightmare, reliving the horrors of the apocalypse, the loneliness, and the endless struggle to survive. He was running, always running, but he could never escape.

Y/N, his wife, slept peacefully beside him until she felt the bed shaking from his restless movements. She woke up instantly, her heart clenching at the sight of Five thrashing in his sleep. She had seen this before, knew the torment he endured, and she knew what she needed to do.

“Five, wake up,” she said softly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. When he didn’t respond, she shook him a bit harder. “Five, it’s just a dream. Wake up.”

Five’s eyes snapped open, wild and unfocused. For a moment, he looked right through her, still caught in the grip of his nightmare. Y/N cupped his face with her hands, her touch firm yet comforting.

“It’s okay, Five. You’re safe. I’m here,” she murmured, her voice soothing and steady.

He blinked, the terror slowly receding as he focused on her face. “Y/N?”

“Yes, it’s me,” she said, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “You were having a nightmare.”

Five took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. “It was the apocalypse again. I was alone… I couldn’t find you.”

Y/N pulled him into a tight embrace, holding him as if to anchor him to the present. “You’re not alone anymore, Five. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

He buried his face in her shoulder, the remnants of the nightmare still clinging to him. “It felt so real.”

“I know,” she whispered, rubbing soothing circles on his back. “But it’s over now. We’re safe.”

They sat like that for a while, wrapped in each other’s arms, the silence of the room broken only by their steadying breaths. Y/N knew how much Five struggled with his past, how the weight of his experiences bore down on him, even in sleep.

After a while, Five pulled back slightly, looking into her eyes. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“Don’t be,” she said, her voice firm. “I’m always here for you, Five. No matter what.”

He gave her a small, grateful smile. “What did I do to deserve you?”

“You traveled through time and survived an apocalypse,” she teased gently. “I think that earns you a bit of happiness.”

He chuckled softly, the tension easing from his body. “You’re my happiness, Y/N.”

“And you’re mine,” she replied, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

They lay back down, Y/N curling up next to him, her presence a comforting shield against the darkness. Five wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as if to ensure she wouldn’t disappear.

“Tell me something good,” he said quietly, needing to hear her voice to keep the nightmares at bay.

Y/N thought for a moment, then smiled. “Remember the day we went to that little café, the one with the amazing chocolate cake?”

Five nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “How could I forget? You got chocolate all over your face.”

“And you laughed for the first time in weeks,” Y/N added. “It was a perfect day.”

“It was,” Five agreed, his grip on her tightening slightly. “Thank you for being here, for being you.”

“Always,” she whispered. “Now try to get some rest. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Five closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of her body against his, the steady rhythm of her breathing. The shadows of his nightmares receded, replaced by the comfort and love that Y/N brought into his life.

As he drifted back to sleep, he knew that no matter what his past held, as long as he had Y/N by his side, he could face anything.

[elysiaheaven]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐘-(𝐒𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥)-𝐉𝐢𝐚𝐨𝐪𝐢𝐮 𝐱 𝐅.𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫-(The Fox's Wedding Sequel!)

@kianasflowers Banner credit!

Mentions of Gorey descriptions! Beheading descriptions

Dear Mei,

I realized that the village I'm in needs my help, I just remembered everything. Sorry for not replying for.. a couple of years?

I hope everyone is fine and well! It's a long story how I ended like this. But, I hope I will be able to see you again.

I really want to meet all but I can't! I have to save these people so, Maybe I'll die.

My location is the Xianzhou Luofu, If you want to meet me. You can! But I don't know how I'll be by the time you come or this letter.

Maybe dead, a corpse.

Or Alive, Helping people.

I hope that man who calls himself god wouldn't win...

Hey Mei, Will you get me some new kimono and a seed of the sakura tree? If I died. Place it beside my grave.

If I live...

Present day

The days in Yaoqing were quiet but heavy, filled with both healing and the lingering shadows of your shared trauma. You and Jiaoqiu spent much of your time indoors, a small, humble home nestled in a quiet corner of the village. The walls that held you both felt both like a sanctuary and a cage, protecting you from the outside world while reminding you of the isolation brought by your injuries.

You struggled with your mobility, the pain in your neck and feet making every step a reminder of the glass shards and the torment you had endured. Walking was a challenge; sometimes, even the simplest movement felt like an insurmountable task. And Jiaoqiu—his blindness had taken away much of his independence, and though he tried to adjust, it was clear the world felt different to him now, unfamiliar and unforgiving.

Cooking had become a trial for both of you. You would attempt to stand by the stove, wincing as you leaned against the counter, trying to prepare a simple meal. But even that was difficult. Your body protested with every movement, and Jiaoqiu—once so self-sufficient—was now struggling to eat due to the severity of his internal wounds. Spicy food, which he had once enjoyed, now caused him immense discomfort, his body rejecting the heat as it tried to heal.

There were moments of despair, moments where you both felt as though the weight of your past was too much to bear. The nights were particularly hard for Jiaoqiu, plagued by vivid nightmares that left him trembling and drenched in sweat. You would wake to the sound of his ragged breaths, his body tense with the horrors that played out in his mind.

Jiaoqiu stirred in his sleep, his body tense as the nightmare took hold. His breathing quickened, his chest rising and falling unevenly, trapped in the throes of a memory turned twisted and nightmarish.

In his dream, the air was thick with the smell of blood, the sound of clashing metal, and the sight of Hoolay standing before him, blade in hand. Jiaoqiu was bound, unable to move, his limbs frozen as he watched helplessly. You stood on the ground before Hoolay, your body bloodied, your neck exposed—ready for the final blow.

"No…" Jiaoqiu gasped, his voice hoarse, barely able to form the words. His throat tightened, his heart pounding against his ribs, desperate to stop what was about to happen.

But the scene continued, cruel and unrelenting. Hoolay's lips curled into a sneer, eyes dark and unfeeling as he raised the blade high above your head.

"Don't do it!" Jiaoqiu screamed, his voice breaking. But Hoolay only laughed, cold and merciless, the sound echoing in the empty space.

You turned to face Jiaoqiu, your eyes wide, filled with a strange, unsettling calm. Blood dripped from your wounds, your body trembling, but your lips twisted into a smile—a horrifying, broken smile.

"You did this," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of sorrow and accusation. "It's your fault I died, Jiaoqiu."

He shook his head, eyes wide with terror. "No… No, I didn't mean for this to happen!"

But you only laughed, a haunting, echoing sound that filled the air. "Of course, you did. You were too weak to save me. You let this happen."

Tears streamed down his face as he struggled against the invisible bonds, desperate to reach you, to stop what was happening. "I tried! I tried to save you!"

Your smile widened, grotesque and unnatural, your eyes hollow, as if all the life had been drained from them. "Too late," you hissed, your voice turning sharp, venomous. "You always fail, don't you?"

Hoolay’s blade descended swiftly, and you didn’t flinch. You just stood there, still smiling as the sharp edge came down, slicing through your neck with sickening precision. The sound of flesh tearing and bone cracking filled Jiaoqiu’s ears, louder than anything he had ever heard before.

"NOOO!" Jiaoqiu screamed, his voice raw, his throat burning as the world spun around him. He couldn't bear to watch, but he couldn’t look away.

Your head rolled from your shoulders, hitting the ground with a heavy thud. Your body crumpled, lifeless, the blood pooling around you, a stark contrast to the eerie smile still lingering on your severed face.

Jiaoqiu sobbed, shaking uncontrollably, as Hoolay’s mocking laughter rang out. "Look at her," Hoolay taunted, kicking your head towards Jiaoqiu's feet. "Look at what you let happen."

Jiaoqiu was paralyzed, his mind broken, the sight of your dismembered form seared into his brain. Your head lay inches from him, eyes still open, still staring at him with that unnerving smile.

"I’ll never leave you," your voice whispered, even though your mouth didn’t move. "I’ll haunt you forever… You deserve this, Jiaoqiu. This is what you made me."

Jiaoqiu screamed again, his heart tearing apart as your words echoed endlessly in his mind. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

But in the nightmare, there was no escape. Hoolay stepped closer, blade dripping with your blood, his grin widening. "You failed her once," he sneered, "and now you’ll keep failing. Over, and over, and over again."

Jiaoqiu's hands clutched at his head, unable to bear the torment. "Please… stop…"

But the nightmare only deepened. Hoolay raised the blade once more, aiming it toward Jiaoqiu this time, his voice cold and final. "It's time for you to join her."

It’s your fault. You let her die.

In the nightmare, your voice echoed, twisted and unnatural, as you stood over him. Headless, your body loomed, holding your severed head in one hand. The blood dripped slowly, pooling beneath you, and your lips—still smiling—moved, whispering something too familiar.

“Jiaoqiu." your voice rasped. “They’ll stuff us both in the secret box… of the goldfish.”

Jiaoqiu’s heart pounded violently in his chest. The words made no sense, but the terror they filled him with was overwhelming. You stepped closer, head dangling from your fingers as if it were nothing more than a toy. The smile on your lips widened, grotesque, and your dead eyes locked onto his.

“They’ll put us together," you continued, "inside that box. You and me… forever.”

Jiaoqiu couldn’t move, couldn’t scream. His body felt frozen, paralyzed by fear. His hands trembled, desperately trying to claw himself out of the nightmare, but it was useless. You bent down, pressing your headless body against his, your cold, bloodstained hands grabbing him, holding him tight.

“We’re going together,” you hissed, your breath cold against his skin. “Inside the box… together.”

He screamed, finally breaking through the silence, but it didn’t stop. Your grip tightened, your bloody fingers digging into his skin, pulling him into the darkness.

Suddenly, the world seemed to collapse. Your body went limp, falling to the floor in a heap of broken limbs. And then, with a chilling whisper, your head rolled toward him, your mouth still moving as it spoke: “It’s a nightmare, Jiaoqiu… Wake up!”

The words jolted him, and Jiaoqiu woke with a gasp, his breath ragged and uneven. His body felt heavy, drenched in cold sweat, his heart still hammering against his ribs. He blinked, expecting to see the comforting glow of light in the room—expecting to see you beside him.

But there was nothing.

Only darkness.

For a moment, Jiaoqiu’s heart stopped. He blinked again, harder this time, trying to adjust his eyes to the blackness that surrounded him. But no matter how many times he tried, no light came. It hit him then, like a punch to the chest: the Tumbledust poison. The nightmare had faded, but the reality remained.

He was blind.

The room felt suffocating, the weight of the darkness pressing in on him, as if the nightmare hadn’t fully let go. Jiaoqiu's breath came quicker, panic rising in his throat. He reached out, his trembling hands searching the bed, the space beside him where you should be. But all he found was emptiness.

“Where… where are you?” he whispered, his voice shaking, as his fingers frantically felt the sheets, the pillow, the empty space. His hands moved faster, desperate to find you, to feel your warmth. But there was nothing.

Jiaoqiu’s mind raced. You were there, he thought. You were right there.

But all he could feel was the cold emptiness of the bed, the sheets crumpled beneath his fingers, his touch finding no trace of you. Fear crept up his spine, his chest tightening with every second that passed.

“Where are you?” he whispered again, louder this time, his voice tinged with desperation. His hands moved in every direction, reaching for the space around him, the nightstand, the floor, anything that could prove you were still here.

Jiaoqiu’s breathing quickened, and panic clawed at his throat as his hands frantically searched the bed. His voice trembled, his desperation rising. "Where are you?" he whispered, louder this time, his heart pounding in the oppressive silence. His mind was spinning, trapped in the darkness, unable to find you, unable to escape the terror gripping him.

Just as he was on the verge of screaming, of losing himself completely to the fear, he felt it—arms wrapping around him from behind, warm and gentle. The familiar scent of you washed over him, grounding him in the present.

“It’s okay,” you whispered softly into his ear, your voice calm and soothing. “I’m right here.”

Jiaoqiu froze, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away as your warmth enveloped him. He exhaled a shaky breath, his heart still racing but slowing, his panic easing.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you continued, your voice a soft murmur. “So I stepped out for a bit. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He was still trembling, still uncertain if this was real or another nightmare. The darkness made everything uncertain. He mumbled, barely able to form words. “Come… kiss me. So I know it’s really you.”

You shifted, moving in front of him, and your lips brushed his—soft, familiar, real. Jiaoqiu exhaled in relief, his body relaxing against you. He clung to you as if you were his lifeline, his grip tight and desperate.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against your lips. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean to doubt you. I… I was so scared.”

You smiled softly, stroking his cheek. “It’s fine,” you whispered, kissing his forehead gently. “It’s okay. I’m here now. You’re safe.”

You cradled Jiaoqiu, feeling his breathing slow and deepen as sleep finally claimed him, you tried to follow him into that same restful darkness. But something was wrong. Even in the silence of the night, whispers crept into your ears, soft at first, but growing louder with each passing moment. The voices of countless souls, pleading, moaning, begging for peace.

Their cries sent a chill down your spine. You squeezed your eyes shut, holding Jiaoqiu tighter, as if his warmth could shield you from the cold weight of their voices.

"Help us… free us… give us peace…"

The words wrapped around your mind, echoing endlessly. You could feel the souls crowding around you, unseen but close, their desperation pressing in on you from all sides. Your heart raced as you gritted your teeth, willing the whispers to stop, but they only grew more insistent.

You buried your face against Jiaoqiu, your grip tightening, as though if you held on tightly enough, they wouldn’t be able to touch you. His steady breathing was the only thing anchoring you to this reality. But the voices wouldn’t stop. They wanted something. They needed something from you.

You tried to block them out, tried to convince yourself that it was all in your head. But the feeling of their presence was too strong, too real. Your hands trembled as you clung to Jiaoqiu, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps.

"Release us…"

Your eyes shot open, the darkness around you feeling suddenly alive, shifting and moving with the weight of the spirits. You didn’t dare look. You couldn’t. The fear was too overwhelming, too paralyzing. The souls weren’t leaving you alone. They were here—right here.

Your teeth ground together painfully as you forced your eyes shut again, but the whispers slipped into your mind like cold fingers, clawing at your thoughts. You held back a sob, trying to breathe through the terror.

Jiaoqiu stirred slightly in his sleep, but he didn’t wake, his exhaustion keeping him under. You envied him. You wanted to escape into the same peaceful darkness, but the souls wouldn’t let you. Their demands grew louder, their voices overlapping into a cacophony that threatened to drown out everything else.

You gripped Jiaoqiu so tightly now that your arms ached, your body tense and shaking. You could feel the tears welling up behind your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not now.

But sleep would not come for you. The souls kept you trapped, their whispers pulling you deeper into fear, into the knowledge that you couldn’t help them. You couldn’t even help yourself.

And so you lay there, eyes closed, teeth clenched, shivering in the darkness, too afraid to sleep, too terrified to let go.

[spinninhavs]

sofia

madison beer

ꜝ haven's notes / okay guys we're back !!!!!!!! also this is not proof read

ꜝ genre / fluff

ꜝ pairing / madison beer x fem!reader

ꜝ warnings / nothing!

you didn’t know where these random feelings for your bestfriend came from. it just felt like a random shock just came to you. you were too scared to even say anything to her since your guys’ dynamic was a little weird. she was a famous artist and you were just… you.

you were sitting on madison’s bed, petting toast and watching adventure time while you waited for her to get back from the kitchen. your nails scratched behind the puppies ear while scrolling on your phone.

“hey! i’m back.” madison smiled as she walked back inside her bedroom with a bowl of popcorn in hand. you smile back at her, scooting a little to the side to make space. she sat down next to you and patted the bed for her other dog, presely to jump up on it. “do you wanna watch something else or are you good with this?” madison asked, putting the bowl in between you guys. “uhm we can watch something else if you want! i don’t mind.” you state, grabbing the remote that was on the nightstand to your left. “you wanna watch a horror movie?” she asked me while cuddling with presely. “im down.” you mumble, handing her the remote.

she scrolled through the streaming platforms and looked for a random horror movie. you looked over at her from the corner of your eyes but you kind of just turned your head to look at her. you took in her features, how plump and pink her lips were, her perfect nose— “helllooo?” you got pulled out of your trance. “s-sorry what?” you say with your cheeks burning a soft pink of embarrassment. “you were staring at me.” madison said. you nod slowly as you look away while flushed. “right sorry.” you whisper while looking up at the tv, seeing that she put on the shining.

you heard her giggle a bit, making you feel a little more embarrassed. you try your best to focus on the start of the movie but you still couldn’t stop replaying that moment in your head. you barely even touched the popcorn, scared to even reach into the bowl and you two touch hands. “you don’t want any popcorn?” madison asked while handing you the bowl again. you shake your head with a small awkward smile. “-‘m good” you reply. she could tell that something was wrong. knowing each other for so long meant she could easily tell what you were feeling.

“you okay?” madison asks while sitting up a little bit on the bed, placing the medium sized pink bowl on her lap. you nod slowly, not pulling your eyes away from the tv as it played one of your favorite horror movies. “i can tell something is up.” she laughed a bit, grabbed the remote and clicking pause. “i’m fine seriously” you laugh, turning your head to face her gaze. she arched an eyebrow at you, searching your eyes for a hint of deception. you sigh softly, knowing you couldn’t just bottle up your emotions forever like you have been doing so for the past few months. you look back at her eyes feeling defeated. “you know i’ll do anything you ask me too.” you mumble softly. madison’s gaze softened to your words, seeing she was right about you lying about being okay. she dragged out a small ‘mhm.’

you fidget with your hands, struggling to find the right words. “i think ‘m in love with you” you say while slowly looking up at her again. you see the slight smile on her face and the way her eyebrows slightly came together. you started to panic internally, scared you probably just screwed up your guy’s friendship. she reached over and tucked a small strand of hair behind your ear, thankfully. “awh.” she hummed quietly. you stare back at her, matching the same facial expression she had on her face. “‘awh’ what?” you ask, putting your hand against her hand which flattened again your soft cheek. “i haven’t had the courage to tell you that myself.” madison responds, smiling up at you. your gaze softens as you fully process what she said. “w-wait what?” you stumble over your words. “i like you too idiot.” she laughs, dragging her hand down from your cheek and placing it on your shoulder.

you felt your cheeks burning, both in nervousness and excitement. "really?" you mumble. "yeah, why would i joke about that?" she whispered while tucking small strands of your hair behind your ear. "i dunno, it just.. doesn't seem real to me." you giggle, seeing that madison was leaning in. "I love you with your hair down" she whispered, looking up into your eyes then lips. "t-thanks." you stumble over your words. before you knew it, madison captured your lips with hers and kissed you gently. her hand cups your blushing cheek before she pulls away. "oh my god i, think i'm in love with you." madison whispered softly while looking up into your eyes.

taglist:: @flouvela @xoxo4chrisss @mattscoquette @her-favorite @freshloveee @luverboychris @hearts4werka @mattsluttywaist

[raz-writes-the-thing]

The Whole Time (Doctor Who Drabble)

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: The Doctor finds your love letters

DW: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr @midnight--raine @blueberry-sunshines @stevekempscocktails @go-bonkers-go-foolish @peytonpenguin37 (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

“Uh, where did you get those?” The horror was palpable in your voice. You’re pretty sure you’re burning up hotter than the sun. The TARDIS was probably seconds away from turning on the fire sprinklers- if she had any. 

Actually, that might be worth looking into. 

“I, well, you see-” The Doctor stumbled for words, scattering the papers in an attempt to hide them from you and by extension- his guilt. “I went into the library to find a book on Slitheen mating cycles and saw them on the table.” 

You swallowed thickly. Surely you hadn’t left them out. Surely not. You peer at the parchment being held behind his back, the corner of the yellowed paper sticking out past his hip. 

“Right…” You replied, avoiding eye contact. 

“And- I wasn’t going to read them once I realised what they were,” he tried to reassure you, though it didn’t do much good considering he had them all swept across the desk and the floor right there in front of you. 

“You weren’t supposed to see those,” you said softly, embarrassed.

“I know,” the Doctor replied, and you had to chew down hard on your lip to keep the tears at bay. How long before he felt too awkward to keep you around, knowing just how you felt about him? 

You seriously could not believe that you left those stupid love letters out. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, leaning towards you to try and get you to look at him. You didn’t give in. “I really am.” 

“Fat lot of good an apology does me,” you replied back swiftly, ice in your tone. The Doctor stepped back, surprised at your outburst. You weren’t usually one to let your emotions out. 

“Well,” he said, taking the letter from behind his back and putting it down on the table. “What if I told you… that I felt the same?” 

He continued to speak, but you didn’t hear a word of it. Your brain was trapped on that question. Repeating over and over like a broken record. Felt the same? The Doctor felt the same way? Surely not. 

“Are- you’re not taking the piss, are you?” You asked, growing warier by the second. The Doctor laughed at your very human turn of phrase. 

“No,” he confirmed. “I’m not ‘taking the piss.’ I promise.” 

You shuffled the letters into a pile and shot a glance towards the fireplace in the corner. Seemed a bit odd, having a fireplace in a library, but you supposed the TARDIS knew what she was doing. 

“I had no idea,” you said honestly, turning to really look at him now. 

“That was the idea,” he replied, rocking on the balls of his feet. “Can I kiss you?” 

There was no hesitation from you as you nodded enthusiastically. The Doctor was on you in a moment, surging forth to press his lips to yours with such passion that it took your breath away. How long had he felt this way? How long had you both? 

When he finally parted from you, he grinned breathlessly, cheeks flushed. 

“So you’re telling me,” you said, struggling not to giggle your way through the question. “We could have been doing this the whole time?” 

“Pretty much, yeah.”

[ssareids-coffee]

hi ! i’m obsessed with the idea of best friend!eddie teaching virgin!reader how to give head😭😭 like maybe they’re watching a movie and a sex scene comes on and her having no experience she’s like “i wonder how it feels…does it feel good?” like genuine curiosity and omg he would be so vocal, soft, and instructional i can’t do this-

sorry this took so long!! but i hope you like it🫶🏻

sat on the sofa in his trailer, passing a joint between the two of you as a horror movie plays in the background. eddie hands you the joint, letting the smoke fill the air between you both. you’ve been best friends with eddie for almost your whole lives, so being curled up on his sofa under a blanket while your wearing one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties as he’s wearing his own plaid pyjama bottoms was nothing new.

‘what do you think of the move so far sweetheart?’ eddie asks casually, his arm wrapped around your waist as your head rests on his chest.

‘i really like it’ you say with a smile, finishing the joint and stubbing it out on the ashtray he keeps on the coffee table ‘i like the movie doesn’t take itself too seriously, makes it much more enjoyable’

eddie hums in agreement, his nose pressed to your head as you cuddle, taking in the scent of your shampoo. he knows it’s wrong to be harbouring these kind of feelings about his best friend, but there’s just something about you that makes him feel weak at the knees. he’s enjoying the moment of being close to you, when he starts to hear faint moans coming from the tv. he looks up, the main character of the movie having sex with her longtime boyfriend, he laughs.

‘literally the number one rule in a horror movie, if you fuck, you die’ he says with a laugh, looking down at you and watching your reaction to the scene unfolding. just as the main character climaxes, you turn to him.

‘does that feel, good?’ you ask, buzzed enough from the weed that your not entirely realising that your telling your best friend you have never had an orgasm. eddie feels his cheeks flush slightly and his cock stir involuntarily at the thoughts your question filled his mind with.

‘does what feel good? sex?’ he asks, slightly confused.

‘no, not sex, having an orgasm’ you say, looking back at the tv screen. eddies eyes widen at the realisation.

‘you’ve never had an orgasm?’ he asks, shocked ‘not even by yourself’

‘no, i mean i’ve tried but i can’t ever get myself to finish’ you say softly, feeling slightly embarrassed ‘does it feel good though?’ eddies mind is racing, partly because of the thoughts of you trying to touch yourself and not being able to cum.

‘uh- yeah it does feel good, like really good’ he says, clearing his throat so his voice does not make him sound as horny as he is.

‘have you ever made a girl cum before?’ you ask him, chewing on your bottom lip as you look up at him through long lashes.

‘yeah- a few times’

‘can you show me how you do it?’ you ask, the words falling out your mouth before you can stop them, his eyes widening and breathing becoming more laboured at your proposition ‘oh! not like that, like can you show me how you do it, like acting it out or something?’ you say shyly. eddie is sure he is dreaming, there is no way his beautiful best friend is asking him to explain him to show her how to cum, so she can then go home and touch herself using what he taught her. no- he shouldn’t be getting off on this, your his friend and friends ask each other for help, but he can’t deny that your innocence isn’t making him want to completely ruin you.

‘yeah, sure i can’ eddie replies, shifting on the sofa to turn so he’s facing you, holding one of his palms up ‘so, you know where your pussy is, but your clit is up higher, it’s that little bud right at the top, about here’ he says, using his other hand to point to the top of his outstretched palm.

‘the mistake a lot of people make is applying way too much pressure, or not going slowly enough’ he continues.

‘how do you find the right speed and pressure though?’ you ask curiously ‘i always find that i either can’t feel anything or i feel so much it hurts’

‘well the pussy and clit aren’t the only places a person can feel pleasure, working yourself up first can help with that kind of thing’ he says, clearing his throat as he tries not to picture you with your hand down your panties when your home alone.

‘working myself up how?’

‘uh- teasing yourself, playing with your nipples, teasing yourself over your panties’ eddie replies, looking at you with flushed cheeks and dilated pupils ‘taking things slowly with yourself until your really desperate, can feel how much you need it, it’ll help’

‘okay, that makes sense’

‘you’ll want to start on the outside, working on your clit, but when you get wet enough you can try putting a finger inside yourself. it’ll be tight, but you want to curl your finger till you find a spongy spot, and you want to hit that again and again, that’s your gspot’

‘can you make someone cum just using their gspot?’ you ask, your face mirroring his own desire.

‘yeah, you can, but most women need some kind of clitoral stimulation to cum too, so using both hands to work different areas would most likely help’ he says, noticing that your squeezing your thighs together, cheeks slightly flushed- were you, turned on by this?

‘i have such short fingers though’ you say, placing your palm against his to show the clear size difference ‘i don’t know if mine could reach that far inside’ you say with a small pout. eddie clears his throat, trying to think about anything other than how close you both were and the image of you fingering yourself that was now playing on repeat in his head.

‘right- uh, i guess that could be a problem’ he says, eyes locked onto yours, face subconsciously moving closer to yours.

‘eddie’ you say softly, fingers now intertwined with his ‘can you show me’ you ask, voice barley above a whisper.

‘are you asking what i think your asking?’ he says breathlessly, nose bumping against yours as you are drawn to each other.

‘yes, can you show me how to make myself cum’ you whisper, and that’s all the confirmation that eddie needed before his lips were on yours. years of pent up feelings are pouring out of him as he kisses you, he desperately tried to remember everything about how you feel against him incase this never happens again. he reluctantly pulls away, turning you round so your back is flush against his chest as he sits on the sofa.

‘can i take these off sweetheart?’ he asks, voice thick with desire as he tugs at your borrowed shirt.

‘please’ you whisper, he pulls the fabric off your body, leaving you in just a pair of panties. he feels like he could cum in his pants just from looking at you, the way your back is pressed to him, your tits on full display for him as he takes in your almost naked form.

‘we’re gonna start with working you up, okay angel?’ he says sweetly, lips finding their way to your neck as his hands run up and down your stomach, occasionally grabbing your hips and giving them a squeeze. the feel of his lips on your neck and his hands finally on you after all this time, you let out a breathy moan which makes eddies already hard cock impossibly harder. he slowly reaches up and starts gently touching your boobs, tracing your nipples with his thumb as his mouth finds its way to your earlobe, gently biting it. your back is arching, head falling back against his shoulder as his name falls from your lips like a prayer. your squirming now, bucking your hips up as he tugs on one of your nipples as you let out an almost pornographic moan.

‘eddie, please’ you moan desperately, breathing now laboured as he touches you everywhere but the place you need him most. he takes your panties off, slipping them down your legs as he lets out a groan at the sight of you now naked against him.

‘okay sweetheart, give me your hand’ he says, voice heavy with lust as you place the back of your hand against the palm of his ‘good girl, now your gonna touch yourself, and i’m gonna help guide you with my hand like this okay?’

‘please’ you whisper, your hand moving down your stomach and towards your aching pussy. your fingers catch on your clit, making you gasp at the sensation, his hand still firmly placed against yours, guiding each movement. he starts with small, soft circles on your clit, your already whining and moaning at the feeling- you didn’t know it could feel this good. he can hear just how wet you are, each circle of your clit with your finger making a soft squelching noise from just how turned on you were, making his cock strain even more against his pyjama pants- but this isn’t about him, it’s about you. he slowly starts to increase the pace of his hand against yours, speeding up the movements of your fingers against your clit.

‘eddie, feels so good, didn’t know it could feel so good’ you pant, head thrown back on his shoulder as your eyes squeeze shut, cheeks flushed from arousal.

‘i know baby, your doing so well’ he says softly, using his free hand to gently stroke your hair before moving his fingers down to your neglected nipples.

‘fuck- something feels, different’ you say through a moan, hips now grinding against your own (and also his) hand as your breath comes out in short gasps.

‘it’s okay sweetheart, you gonna cum? your doing so well, you can cum’ he says, coxing your orgasm out of you with each brush of your nipple and circle of your clit. the coil in your stomach burst, crying out as you grind your pussy desperately against your fingers, crying out his name as slick gushes from you. eddie can’t stop himself now, he’s all but humping your back, desperate for any kind of release now your cumming. you cum down from your orgasm, head fuzzy from the pleasure. he softly removes his hand from yours, moving it to your jaw to lift your chin upwards so your looking at him.

‘you did so good angel, so fucking good’ he says breathlessly, kissing you again.

‘eddie’ you mumble against his lips ‘can you show me how to touch a dick now?’

‘fuck’

[chososdiscordkitten]

Obsessive!Choso♡ pt 11

pt 10 here

Content: direct cont of last chap, reader wears heels, implied reader has boobies O-O, soooo much hand holding it should be considered lewd, 2 pics to help see what I picture (underlined text), date hehe, reader wouldn't mind if Choso kidnapped them 0-0, they play battle ship, jokingly implied Choso is an escort(?), reader is kinda mean, reassurance, idk just my usual bs??? just reader nd Choso being cute man what else can I say. Word Count: 11.9k (wtf, im sorry)

(a.n) this was so long, I know, pls excuse any mistakes- I underestimated how hard it was to edit something longer than 5k words. ALSO???? take this as a celebration of me hitting 1k followers!! yayyy

Taglist: @eristi @sunaumi @ex-ria @just-pure-trash @kha-0s @iluvreinah @iamboredowo @integers @waytootiredforthisss @1arminsimp @hannas16 @chosowhore @tojicvmslut @ofalcaodacolinablue @thesharkcollector @mochipip @hotvillianapologist @ziklope @saeline @morinuu @b3llair3 @24hrnanami

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After you left his apartment, Choso’s mind blared with the possibility of you being kidnapped- only to find solace in the small red dot blinking on his phone. Cautious eyes watching as he expected it to move- but no. It stayed still at a restaurant right outside of campus. Choso wanted to desperately leave behind those incessant urges to follow you- to make sure you were safe. 

Knowing that his day of reckoning would come. Choso knew that if he kept following you- the day would come when you’d see him. And he wanted to trust you now that things were starting to advance. 

There was nothing he wanted more than to trust you, to trust that you could take care of yourself- 

But everytime he’d try to ignore the blaring ‘warning’ signs in his mind. He’d remember every time he watched you walk home without caution, every horror story he read of people getting kidnapped and trafficked- and on the occasions where Choso couldn't shake off the invading thoughts, your voice would haunt his mind.

Overwhelming his brain as he tried to focus on what you were saying- your whispering voice making his brain pound in his skull as he watched that blinking dot.

Choso had to call you- if he couldn't run out of his apartment and find you- the least he could do was call you. Feeling like one of your clingy ‘friends’ as the phone rang, his pointer finger picking at the side of his thumb as he closed his eyes. All but praying for you to answer, opening his eyes as he heard the receiver being picked up, 

“I was just thinking about you-” he spoke, hearing your angelic laugh ring through his ears. ‘I left like 20 minutes ago.’ you teased, “I know-” he mumbled “What're you doing?” he continued, not in the mood to dance around what he wanted to hear, ‘uh- I'm at..lunch with a friend.’ you hesitated. –

‘What're you doing, Choso?’ you asked, confused as to where this was going. Choso let out a half laugh from his chest. “M’sitting in the dark thinking about you.” he professed, pressing his hand to his forehead and hearing you laugh at the serious tone he took. ‘Sounds healthy.’ you joked back with a playful tone, closing his eyes and thinking. Your tone was kind- speaking sweetly as you normally did. But. You hesitated.

The same way you hesitate whenever you refer to him as your friend. 

“M’sorry. I just wanted to hear your voice.” he sniffled, “Tell your friend I say hi.” hearing your smile when you replied a quick ‘Okay.’ at his request. 

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The conversation of the date was a rough one. Sitting in his apartment as you played chess. The timing was horrible- sure. The econd week of February left an unavoidable holiday sitting in front of you. “We can wait...till after if you want.” he offered a solution as he moved a pawn. 

“It's not so much the day for me.” you admitted, scanning the wooden chest pieces on your side of the checkerboard. “If you want- we can wait till after.” rephrasing his words as you watched his eyebrows furrow, “S’the same for me.” mentally chanting ‘pleasepleasepleaseplease’ as you pondered. 

And with those words- the date was set for Valentines day. Which made Choso believe there really was a god from how well this turned out. And you're thinking of moving out from that house full of idiots- and into the small apartment complex as his neighbor.

For the first time in Choso’s life he felt like life dealt him a good hand.

When it came to actually thinking about what to do- he didn't want to ask you. Knowing you were indecisive on what you were eating for lunch that day- so he didn't want to plague you with planning a date he owed you. Checking his bank account and barely seeing enough for a stack of pancakes in the town diner. 

Choso contemplated it. He thought about it over and over again, weighing the pros and cons in his mind before going into his closet and reaching into a pair of boots that were 3 sizes too small for him. Finding the thinning wad of cash he was looking for. The so-called ‘rainy day fund’ thinned every time he ran out of money for the month.

But this was worth it, you, were worth it. So he pulled the rubber band from the roll of cash, slowly counting the bills in his hands to be sure he didn't miss count. 

⋆ ⁺  .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .  ₊˚ ⊹⋆ ⁺  .⋆

The next time you saw Choso you asked him what his plan was- “Just be ready by 7.” he smiled to himself, already picturing you on that day. 

Furrowing your eyebrows before speaking, “Well-” you scoffed “what are we doing?”

“It's a surprise.” he grinned, looking down at the stupid game you called ‘Candy Land’ 

You sighed dramatically, “Choso, I hate surprises.” as you stared at the little pieces of plastic on the colorful board. “Atleast tell me what to wear.” you insisted, seeing his lips flash a pearly smile to you. 

“Wear whatever you want- I’m sure you’ll look great.” he scoffed, holding the little piece of plastic between his fingers, making it hop as he counted the squares. 

“Well if you're taking me to a nice restaurant and I'm wearing a t-shirt nd jeans- not gonna be very fun. Or if you're taking me to a horse race-” Choso laughed at your assumptions, “And I open the door in a dress and heels? Then what?” you threw the possibilities at him as he smiled at your nervousness. 

“It's a first date- I wanna make a good impression.” You mused, earning a half laugh from his chest. “C’mon-” you batted your eyelashes at him, trying to convince him to tell you what he was planning.

Nodding his head at your coercion that was working better than you thought, “You're terrible.” he whispered, making your pouting grin turn into a toothy smile. “Wear something nice-” he avoided your eyes, moving the character on the squares again as you listened carefully, “Bring a coat- weather app says it's gonna be cold.” He instructed.

“Do I eat beforehand?” you grinned, seeing his jaw clench at your question, “Hmm- No.” you smiled at how a few pleads convinced him to tell you. 

“How nice should I dress then?” pressing the issue with a winning smile on your face as you moved your plastic character, pleased at how easily he was to convince. “Atleast tell me that.” Choso looked at you and pondered the question, before nodding his head ‘no’. Knowing he's already said too much. 

You pouted playfully at his denial, “Just a hint- just oneee.” seeing his eyes look over your face, “I’ll even settle for one word.” he thought of a word to use, staring at you as he skimmed through words in his mind. 

“Wear something- striking.” he squinted as he settled on the word.

With raised eyebrows you started, “Striking huh?” in a teasing tone the choice of word he used, “Must be some first date to wear something striking.” your borderline bullying caused Choso to regret his choice of telling you anything. 

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On the 13th of february, just one day before your date- Choso facetimed his baby brother Yuuji, knowing out of all 9, he was probably the best one to call about this delicate topic. 

“What about this?” he holding a black knit sweater to his chest while looking at the screen, Yuuji let out a snicker- ‘If you like it-’ his tone was snide- almost mockingly as Choso tossed the knit onto his bed, staring at the pile of clothing that he had gone through. 

Showing him a band t-shirt from one of his drawers and hearing Yuuji let out a small laugh before he tossed the t-shirt on his already messy bed. “You're no help.” 

‘M’not here to helppp-’ Yuuji droned on, “That's precisely why I called you, Yuuji.” Choso retorted in a stern tone, not enjoying the game his brother was trying to play, slipping on a black dress shirt and doing up the tiny buttons.

‘Didn't you wear that to your graduation?’ he heard from the phone with a half laugh forming in his brother's words. “Can you tell?” straightening his back and seeing the fabric flex against his chest and shoulders, ‘Looks a lil tight buddy.’ Yuuji held back a laugh, being able to see the buttons strain and form small openings down his chest.

With an exasperated sigh he looked back to the mess on his bed, “I don't know what to wear.”

‘The dark navy button down you wore to parent teacher conferences and black slacks.’ Yuuji spat quickly, ‘Hey when am I gonna meet this person?’ Smiling as he changed the topic, “When you stop being so nosy.” Choso muttered, looting through his closet and finding the button up Yuuji was talking about. 

Unbuttoning the taut buttons and slipping off the small shirt. Tossing it onto the pile of discarded options before slipping on the better fitting dress shirt, doing up the small buttons and looking in the mirror, ‘I'm not nosy-’ Yuuji laughed, ‘Excuse me for trying to find out who’s involved in my big brothers life-’ enunciating the words. Attempting to make Choso feel bad for scolding him. 

“If you ever come out here- I'll introduce them to you.” he looked at the top two buttons that were undone, trying to decide whether or not to do them.

‘I'm on the next flight out.’ Yuuji quipped, making Choso scoff.

 “No Yuuji. Go to school.” Choso demanded, knowing he was skipping more than a handful of classes. ‘One day I’ll fly out there and you won't be able to say no to me till I’m standin’ at your door.’ Yuuji threatened, Choso offered only a sarcastic ‘haha’ in response.

‘How you got a date before I got a girlfriend is still insane to me.’  he pressed, “Why’s that Yuuji?” rolling up the sleeves of the dress shirt as he looked in the mirror. 

Yuuji laughed- knowing just what to do to annoy his older brother, ‘Cause you're so… weird.’ Yuuji struggled to say the words through a bully-like smile, “For your information- brother of the year,” Choso snapped playfully, which surprised Yuuji since Choso was never the type to banter- not because he didn't want to. But his quips would always come out in stutters, never being able to come up with smart replies fast enough. 

Choso smiled as he recalled your slurred words,“They like that I'm ‘strange’.” Yuuji chirped from the phone, ‘They tell you that?’ with a sarcastic tone. 

Looking at Yuuji with a cocky smile, “They did.” earning for his baby brother to raise his eyebrows in feigned shock, ‘The world is so backwards.’ he scoffed before asking more questions about you. 

⋆ ⁺  .𖥔 ݁ ˖ .  ₊˚ ⊹⋆ ⁺  .⋆

Choso wanted to make tonight special, he wanted to make this the last first date you ever went on. 

So as he looked at himself in the mirror, putting on his many rings and muttering words of encouragement to himself, hands shaking as he rolled up the sleeves of his dark navy blue dress shirt. Trying not to nitpick any detail that he didn't like about the reflection staring back at him- whispering that even if he was ‘strange and off putting’ you still liked him. 

Side eyeing the clear bowl shaped vase that held three white lilies, Choso felt nerves eating away at him as his eyes flashed down to his phone that lit up with a message from you. 

‘lmk when ur outside :)’ your message read. If only you knew Choso’s stomach was in knots. A specific kind of anxiety he had never felt before, it almost felt like how your stomach churned while in line for a scary rollercoaster for the first time. 

He quickly typed, ‘im omw now’ with trembling thumbs.

So as he put on the torn up carhartt jacket he relied on whenever it was cold, he straightened his back as he held the clear vase in his hand- Choso hesitated to turn the doorknob of his apartment. Thinking on if this was a good idea- a million doubts racing in his mind. 

But he only needed one thought to pull him from his doubts. All he needed was to remember you to open the door. 

The walk across the lively campus full of people carrying bouquets of red roses and overcompensating stuffed animals made him think that maybe the three lilies were not enough- Till the realization that he was actually taking you out on Valentine's day hit, which only made him even more nervous, the pondering thoughts of ‘am I making a fool of myself?’ making him overheat in the heavy jacket. Choso must've taken it off and put it back on 2 or 3 times before he reached your neighborhood. 

Standing on your rundown porch, thinking about ringing the doorbell. Those doubts daring to creep back into his mind, but his hesitant finger pressed the button anyway. Holding the bowl in both hands as he heard muffled shouts through the heavy wood door. He watched the brass handle turn before the door cracked open- his eyes being granted the honor of seeing you. 

‘Breathtaking’ was the word his mind formulated once he felt air fill his lungs again. 

Choso swore that every single time he looked at you, it felt like the first time. But this time- this, took the cake. This would be the mental image he’d remember every time he thought of you. The nerves and unease he felt in his chest melted away when he saw the warmth of your smile.

His eyes blinked quickly- almost in disbelief as he looked at you, so love drunk it hurt his chest a little. 

And you, bent to the side and fiddling with the tiny buckle of your heel. To Choso it felt like you came straight out of his teenage dreams as you looked at him.

Smiling as you uttered the word that was stuck in his throat, with a hurried smile you spoke, “Heyy-” before placing your foot back onto the ground as you stepped back with a quiet gasp, looking at the bowl in his hands. “Come in!” you urged sweetly, seeing his eyes scan your frame, darting to your living room that was full of your gawking roommates and their friends. ‘An anti-valentines day movie night’ you called it.

“Thought I told you to tell me you were outside-” you grinned, standing at the entryway of the house. ‘God, you are haunting.’ You looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to reply. Unknowing your roommates were ignoring the movie on the living room tv. Furrowing your eyebrows as you looked at the round vase in his hands.

“T-these are for you.” He muttered, his heart racing at an abominable speed by seeing you grin kindly before your smile fell.

It turned into a grimace, “I have something for you too-” looking back up at the stairs you practically fell down when the doorbell rang. Turning back around to face him. Taking the bowl from his extended hands with a prolonged touch, “They're lovely. Thank you.” you smiled, “Stay right here- I'll be right back.” You hushed, turning around and dashing up the stairs. 

Choso stood at the doorway, almost mournful knowing the sight of you that greeted him would only exist in his memory now. Fiddling with his rings as he felt the people's eyes burn through him. Unintelligible whispers from the prying gazes. Gulping as he heard your bedroom door slam shut, urging footsteps on the ground as you hurried down the stairs. Both hands held behind your back as you hid his present. 

A silly smile on your lips as you looked at him, the thin heel of your shoes clacking on the tile as you stood before him, reaching your arm around as you a box with a small bow on top. Raising his eyebrows and looking at the box holding a pair of white glass plates inside. “Plates?” he smiled defeated at the present as you tried to suppress a small laugh. 

Your shoulders moved in a silent laugh as you watched his eyes flash back up to you, “Yes. Plates.” seeing him exhale through his nose, amused at what a coincidence it was that you bought him them.

“Thank you.” He mumbled softly, already being able to picture using them.

Choso held the box in one hand, looking at you with adoring eyes, you cleared your throat, “Striking enough?” you sneered proudfully. He practically choked on air at your question. 

He took a second to look at you, trying to find the correct thing to say, “You look beautiful.” he breathed softly, words that came straight from his heart. Mentally he was shouting any word he thought of when he looked at you. Words that are not to be said on a ‘first date’, confessions of yearning love and descriptive words of how he felt about you. 

‘Captivating.’ Choso thought as he admired your features that were accentuated by the warm lighting, almost casting a glow on your skin.

You felt the warmth in your cheeks trail to the tip of your nose at the compliment. ‘Thank y-’ you mouthed silently, being interrupted by a loud over exaggerated cough coming from the living room. 

Squinting your eyes as you turned around to face the source, “When did you say you'd be home?” one of your roommates spouted from the couch.

“I didn't.” You spoke with a raised tone laced with irritation, scoffing before walking into the living room. Focused on your coat that was draped on the edge of the couch.

Their eyes looked up at you as though you owed them something, “Where's he taking you?” desperate to keep you home.

You raised your eyebrows before you spoke, “No idea.”, reaching your hands into the pockets of your coat to be sure you had what you needed. 

Picking it up from the couch before turning around and speed walking back to Choso, looking at him with an urgent look on your face. “Let's go.” you whispered as you reached for the doorknob, “It's not safe to go to an undisclosed location with a stranger-!” your roommate shouted as you stepped through the doorway. Sighing as you pulled the door behind you. 

“Sorry about that.” you breathed, inhaling the cold air as you scanned the cloudy overcast with squinted eyes and creased eyebrows.

Choso inhaled sharply before he spoke, “Was that-”

“Yes, that was my den mother.” with a scoff, Choso parted his lips in a silent wince as you slipped your coat onto your exposed shoulders. Reaching a hand down and raising your ankle halfway to tweak with the strap of your heel again.

“Lead the way.” you smiled as Choso took a step forward onto the rickety stairs. 

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“Can you tell me where you're taking me now?” You sounded almost defeated as you walked side by side on the pavement. Choso made sure that he was on the open side of the sidewalk, walking between you and the potential risk.

Quiet streets derived from people made the walk peaceful, the sunless sky causing everything to look pale blue- almost as though you stepped through a blue tinted filter.

The weather was fresh- cold enough for a coat but not freezing the way it was a few days ago. A small breeze would have made you regret your choice in what you wore- your calves and ankles exposed to the frigid air.

Looking over at him as he held the boxed plates, with a smug grin on his lips, “We have to go pick something up first.” you hummed at Choso’s denial as his rundown oxford-esque shoes stomped on the ground.

Seeing an opportunity to wear down that smugness, you looked at him with an unashamed smile. “You look beautiful too, Choso.” circling back to his compliment that was interrupted by your roommate. He looked over to you- not shocked but surprised at your choice of words, despite the gloomy weather- you looked warm in his eyes. As though the sun was shining and it was the middle of summer.

He sighed as he felt your shoulder brush against his, “I don't think I’ve ever been called that.” he admitted honestly with a flustered smile. 

You laughed, “I can call you something else-” with an enthusiastic grin, looking up into the sky as you thought of the words to use, “How about- scenic. Or uh, captivating-” watching the blush on his cheeks trail onto his exposed ear.

Choso’s teeth stuttered as he heard you- trying to silence the sudden compliment, “My name is fine.” He insisted with a nervous laugh, trying his best to ignore your gaze.

You raised your eyebrows, “Are you sure? I can keep going-”

“Ju-” he breathed, “Just Choso is fine.” he implored, his heart racing at an unimaginable speed.

You were pleased with his stutter, “Okay. ‘Just Choso’, where are you taking me?” grazing the back of your palm against his as you walked, his eyes on the ground watching the lines on the pavement come and go.

Choso sighed, “I already told you- We. Are going. To pick. Something up.” He paused between the words as though that was an answer, flinching when you bumped your knuckles into his as you strolled beside him.

“Don't take that tone with me, mister.” you teased playfully, holding your knuckles against his as you saw him perk a smile. 

“Sorry-” he grinned as he looked over at you sweetly, “We’re gonna go pick something up.” he corrected himself, smiling at the sugared words, not moving his hand from yours- if anything pressing it closer. 

With a sigh you took the initiative and interlocked your fingers with his, your cool hand icing his warm palm, “If you're gonna kidnap me- let me know. Promise I won't fight back or anything.” you joked, making Choso shiver at your accusation. 

With a grimace he hesitated the words he was about to say, “That is a terrible and equally horrifying thing to say,” he spoke your name in a reprimanding tone.

“I mean in the way that life sucks right now, and you're a pretty cool person. And you're nice, and tolerate me.” squinting your eyes at the sudden frost-like breeze puff against your bare shins.

Your circling hum on the side of his pointer finger made this conversation suddenly very difficult for him to focus on. “Just don't put me in a glass cage. That's all I ask.” You continued the unsettling topic as you squeezed his hand. 

Choso laughed at the reference, “You see,” being able to conjure the words in his mind. “I had reason to worry about you getting kidnapped.” he murmured, mentally damning you for putting that thought into his head again. 

“That's different though.” you hummed, tilting your head towards him. “Of course if it was a stranger I’d fight tooth and nail-” a playful grin on your lips, watching his eyebrows slowly pull upwards. “But, if it was you?” you continued, feeling his palm subtly start to clam against yours.  

Choso looked over at you- waiting for you to finish what you were saying. The troubled expression on his face made you smile at how easy it was to fluster him. 

Shaking away the words in your mind, the sky dimming as you clutched onto his hand, you let out a ‘tsk’ at the thought, “Now that would be something quite forward to say.” you grinned playfully.

‘Your smile hides your mischievousness a little too well- I think you're just being cruel at this point.’ he thought as he looked at your profile. A proud smile adorning your lips. 

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“A parking garage?” you asked, twitching your ankle as you watched Choso input a security code into the metal receiver.

Choso sucked his teeth with a smile, “Did you expect us to walk for the entire night?” looking down to your shoe that was clearly bothering you. 

“You have a car?” you asked as you watched the metal gate creak open. 

He winced, “Technically no-” hand in hand as he led you through the barrier of the two story garage. Walking up the sloped concrete as you looked at the dusty cars. 

“I didn't even know this place existed.” You muttered, eyeing the gray walls illuminated by old yellow lights. Swinging your connected hands softly as Choso laid eyes upon the black car cover he hoped was waiting for him. 

“Let's hope it still runs.” he joked as you let go of his hand. 

“Hold these for me won't you?” he whispered, handing you the cardboard box as you tapped your heeled foot on the ground, causing Choso to look down at your ankle once more.

Placing his hands on the front end of the cover, yanking it off as you laid eyes on the two seater maroon colored classic. Almost perfectly polished as you raised your eyebrows in shock, his hands balling up the black car cover and placing it on the hood haphazardly.

He inhaled almost painfully, “It was my father’s-” as he inserted the key into the driver's side and turned it, unlocking the doors before walking to the passenger side and opening the door with a hand held out to you.

Taking the boxed plates from your hands and placing them on the roof of the car, holding your hand as you eased into the vehicle.

Connected matte black seats meeting your eyes as you eased into the seat. Silent as he nervously tried explaining why he had the car, “H-he left it behind- and I didn’t wanna leave it to be sold.” He smiled, looking down at you as he held the frame of the door. 

“So you brought it with you?” You hummed, fiddling with your hands on your lap and looking at the interior.

“I stole it- yes.” he admitted without shame, leaning on the frame of the opened door.

Pulling off his jacket as your hands reached out to take it from him, a small ‘Thank you’ fell from his lips as you held it in your lap. His lips parted in a grin, looking at your expression as you pinched your eyebrows together. Reaching your hand down to the bothersome buckle that squeezed your ankle a little too tightly. 

Your fingers struggled to fix the issue as he watched you. Flashing your eyes up at him with an awkward giggle before you spoke, “When you rang the doorbell I accidentally pulled the-” You sighed, trying to pull the black strap from the bothersome buckle, “-the strap too tight.”

Choso smiled before mouthing an understanding ‘oh’ 

“May I?” he asked, frustration starting to seep from you and into him by just watching your aimless attempts. You eyed him, lowering himself to his knee, the other propped up as you turned your body to face him. 

Suddenly all too aware of the veins on the tops of his hands, the light arm hair on his outer forearms that were exposed from his rolled up sleeves. 

His calloused hand held open awaiting you to lift your dangling foot to his palm. Without a word, you lifted your ankle. Choso delicately placed his hand onto the back of your calf, your cold skin warming in his palm as he guided the back of the heel to rest atop his bent knee. Trailing his fingertips mindlessly on your skin as he gently unbuckled the silver rivet of the shoe. 

Feeling the instant relief as he slid the buckle into a neighboring notch. A warm blush forming on your cheeks as you watch his painted hands trail gentle touches on your skin.

“There?” he mumbled, looking up at you as his thumb settled on the protruding bone of your ankle. Only offering a blushed ‘Mhm’ from your dry throat as he laced the rest of the tiny strap beneath the metal. Your hand was clutched on the edge of the seat- if your grip tightened any more you’d scratch the pristine leather.

Choso gently placed his palm back onto your calf, easing your leg back down gently before he stood up again. “Now for the moment of truth.” he winced, taking a step back and leaving you with your feet on the ground.

You inhaled sharply as his hand rested on the door again, waiting for you to sit correctly. You turned your body back to face the windshield, he closed the door for you- reaching his hand on the roof of the car for the plates before walking to the drivers side.

With how easy it was to fluster him or make him nervous, you were unsure why out of the two of you- you were the one who was on the verge of hyperventilating from the innocent act of kindness. In your mind an obstacle presented itself; how you were expected to keep your composure for the rest of the evening. 

Your hand dared to tremble as you placed his heavy jacket on the center of the benched seat. Some kind of desperate attempt at a wall to keep you from acting on your self-indulgent thoughts. 

Hearing a small thud as he placed the plates on the roof again. The driver's door opened smoothly, Choso eased into the seat as he placed his hand on the wheel with the keys in hand, leaving his door open with one foot on the ground.

Choso cleared his throat as he turned the ignition, raising his eyebrows in hopes the car would turn on. A wave of relief washed over him when he heard the loud roar come from the muffler. Quiet music playing from the staticky radio breaking the silence.

He stepped out of the car once more, walking to the hood to grab the car cover he carelessly folded. Your eyes followed him as he slid the pair of plates from the roof and walked to the back of the car, your shoulders tense while trying to breathe. 

Flinching when you heard the trunk pound shut, clearing your throat when you saw him walk back to the opened door. 

He settled into the driver's seat once more, mindlessly picking up your attempt at a wall and placing his jacket onto the ledge of the rearview window, leaving nothing but air to keep you separate from him. 

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The drive was silent, the quiet radio music easing the tension in the air only you felt. Hands in your lap as you fiddled with your thumbs, Choso was unaware of your tense shoulders till he stopped at a red light. 

Looking over at you- your head locked forward and sitting very, very far away. The look on your face though, furrowed eyebrows and unblinking eyes, lips pressed tightly together as though you were in deep thought- that's what made him realize something was wrong. 

Replaying the last 10 minutes- not recalling a single snide comment or any attempts at flirting since he started driving.

He murmured your name- trying to pull you out of the thoughts that were whirling in your mind at that moment. Blinking your eyes and turning your head slightly, looking at Choso’s face that was illuminated by the red light. “Something wrong?”

You nodded your head ‘no’ intertwining your hands harshly together. Choso looked down to your latched hands, then back up to you with a perked brow- He didn't need to speak, you knew what he was asking with the look on his face. 

You inhaled, trying to find something clever to say- “M’trying to keep my hands to myself.” you murmured, looking out of the window, gathering he was driving into the neighboring city as your knees pointed to the door along with your head.

‘...hands to yourself..?’ Choso mentally repeated your words, not knowing why you had to try to, when you were never shy about it before.

Air caught in your throat at the realization you said that louder than you were expecting, “In a- a non creepy way.” you reiterated, scrunching your eyes together at the stutter in your words. 

Mentally you were cursing the stupid old traffic light that refused to turn green, even with the lack of cars around- it still beamed red. “Did I do something?” he asked, worried he offended you in some way. 

You sighed, “Yes-”, refusing to look at him, “Yes, you did something.” you muttered as you looked into the glass, staring at him through the reflection. 

“I’m sorry- I didn't mean to-” he started apologizing unknowing what he did- but it still felt like he had to. 

You let out a laugh that rang through his ears in the sound of a hymn, “You don't even know what you did.” corners of your lips twitching upwards, turning your knees over to him as he looked forward at the now green light- accelerating slowly as you scanned his side profile. 

“Must've been something worth an apology if you- of all people are keeping your hands to yourself.” he joked slyly. Only he meant to think those words- not actually say them to you.

You squinted your eyes at his banter, “Oh haha-” you grinned sarcastically, planting your hand onto the seat, “I'll make sure to keep ‘em to myself from now on if you feel that way.” You played, feeling your confidence soak back into your words. 

Choso turned his head slightly over to you, low eyes knowing you wouldn't be able to keep that declaration, dropping his hand from the bottom of the wheel as the other held onto the side of it, placing it on the black leather to tempt you. Suddenly the distance you set between you too was too evident- too far, his eyes were forward- watching the road. 

You gulped, scanning the top of his veiny hand, slowly you shifted closer to him.

Now close enough that he could sense you, “Choso?” you whispered, earning for a small hum to leave his throat, a childish smile on your lips “Can I hold your hand?” you spoke in a whisper- Choso furrowed his eyebrows at the question.

A gentle grin on his lips, “You don't need to ask me.” he whispered back, looking forward as he heard alarms and bells ring in his head from excitement. 

So as you scooched closer to Choso, he held his hand out for you. His heart couldn't help but beat at an alarming pace, so close your thigh was pressed against his. Your knees pointed in his direction as he felt his palm threaten to sweat. 

You slumped the tiniest bit into the matte seat, looking up at him as you gently took his hand into yours, interlocking your fingers with his as your other hand caged the back of his palm. 

Both of your hands overwhelmed his tender one, smiling as you leaned the side of your head onto his bicep. Resting your joined hands on the seam where his thigh ended and yours began.

“I've always liked your hands.” you mumbled, caressing your thumbs on his skin as he drove- he was grateful the sky was darkening. Cause he was so sure the blush he was sporting on his cheeks was starting to roam down his chest.

Choso’s breathing hitched- catching in his throat, “My h-hands?” feeling his heart pound in his chest. And for the foot that wasn't on the gas to start bouncing nervously. 

You giggled, “Yeah, your hands.” you hummed, unaware of the state you were pushing him to. “They're so pretty.” you complimented him with a tone only heard in his frantic dreams.

And as you scanned his jeweled hand engulfed by your own- the veins that trailed up his forearm beneath his pale skin proudly, you smiled as you pressed your thumb down onto a blood filled ridge on the top of his hand. Stopping the blood flow from the prominent vein. 

His mind was whirring in his skull- had you said anything else he would've had to pull over to catch his breath. 

But you didn't, no you only traced mindless doodles on his skin softly. ‘This has to be some kind of attempt on my life.’ his brain managed as the scent of your perfume infiltrated his nose.

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Though he was eternally grateful to be so- (some would say too close) to you, he felt his lungs able to breathe with a set pace once he found a parking spot in front of the building he was looking for. Streets full of couples as the moon started arising. Choso exhaled expectantly, switching the ignition off and feeling your grasp on his hand loosen.

“We’re here.” he practically choked out. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked onto the street, watching the people walking past the lit up glass doors. 

“What's here?” you grinned, straightening your back and looking at Choso, you were so very close to his face. The light on the roof of the car made it very obvious that he was blushing.

“A uh-” he inhaled the air between you, “A museum.” his shoulders were tense, looking from your eyes to the curve of your nose- darting back and forth from the cupid's bow of your lips back up to your eyes. You smiled hearing his hesitant tone- relishing the sight of pure nerves flooding in his pupils from how close you were. 

With an amused smile you snorted softly, “Ouu you want to kiss me sooo bad- I can see it-” you teased, earning for Choso to look away from you in embarrassment. 

And as you pulled your hands from his, he opened his door, mumbling small curses, racing to the passenger side- reminding himself that he needs to be polite and well-mannered.  

As he pulled your door open he held a hand out to you, giving you a brace to step out from the old car. 

The sight of your hand in his as you stepped from the car elegantly made one thing click in his mind. Choso felt in his heart that he would be more than happy- elated even, to do this with you every weekend till you were both old and wrinkly. 

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Hand in hand as you walked past the white walls. Stopping at any piece of art that caught your attention. 

Your eyebrows pulled tight as you looked at a piece painted black with glimmers of red. Choso’s eyes were on your profile as you examined the art, “What do you see?” he mumbled, looking back to the large canvas. Unable to understand how you could see meaning in a few colors. 

You sighed, tilting your head and staring at the streaks “It seems sad.” you whispered as he furrowed his eyebrows. “Like the person who painted this was distressed.” 

Choso didn't see what you saw- he saw a lazy attempt at modern art- “You can see it in the brush strokes-” you leaned over to him as you pointed to the seemingly violent brush strokes. He tried to see what you saw, “In the way they decided to use a little bit of red.” You continued, looking over to his lost expression.

When you walked into the room of sculptures you stared at an old wooden chair placed on a small platform with a harsh spotlight on it, “Performer.” you read the words on the silver plate at the bottom, “What do you see Choso?” you repeated his question as he stared at the chair.

He squinted his eyes before speaking, “I think it's a chair-”, feeling your elbow shove him gently. He sighed, “Well, the chair is old, and the spotlight is on it almost in a mocking way.” Choso expressed his depiction of the piece. “And the title signifies that the chair is a piece to be gawked at.” he muttered as you smiled at his intune thoughts.

He huffed, almost feeling like he said too much. “You?” he broke your silence as he looked back at you.

“I think it's just a chair.” you mocked with a perked smile. 

On the other end of the room there was a wired sculpture, if you looked in the right angle you'd be able to see the projected image within the silver wires.

You were tilting your head trying to make out the image, “I think it's a face?” you whispered as Choso furrowed his eyebrows, “Or two?” you squinted your eyes as you finally saw the image with a gratified exhale. 

Choso huffed- frustrated from how tedious this was. “How are you seeing anything?” he asked frustrated as his neck started to strain from how long he was tilting it. 

You dropped his hand- taking a step behind him and placing your hands on his shoulders, “Here.” you hummed, moving him to where you previously stood. “Lean down a little-” you whispered, you weren't able to see it- but his eyes were wide and his cheeks were tingling from your guidance. 

And as he lowered himself, you placed your hands onto the side of his head- angling it softly to this side as he allowed you to. You stood behind him- close enough for him to be able to feel your breath wisp on his nape. “Can you see it?” you whispered- Choso felt goosebumps form on his arms at your soft tone. 

You slid your hands from the side of his head- seeing him stay in place as he looked at the sculpture. “Can you?” you whispered as he raised himself back to stand up straight. 

He looked at you with a horrified look on his face, “Yeah I can.” he muttered before you took his hand in yours again. 

And when you found the room he specifically chose this museum for- he lit up with a smile.

“Art history-” you read the plaque on the wall.

Choso led you into the dimly lit room, “Finally some real art.” he muttered before turning the corner. Standing before the grand in size portraits- he looked at them in silence. Only you didn't find the same fascination in the old paintings as he did- you found the excitement that gleamed in his eyes more interesting than the dusty art works.

With every piece he knew, he'd tell you the tragedy behind them, star crossed lovers and small comments of the trageties- “Why are you looking at me like that?” he paused his previous sentence, looking at you worried that he was talking too much. 

You offered a timid smile, circling your thumb on his skin lovingly. Reaching a pinkie up to his temple and brushing away a loose strand from his temple, “I can't look at you now?” you murmured playfully, his eyes glimmered with shock at the sudden contact against his face. 

Choso diverted his eyes from your gaze, looking down to his shoes before mumbling, “You can't look at me like- that.” he felt his heart pound in his chest recalling the expression on your face with closed eyes. 

You giggled at his words, “Why not?” you pressed, being able to feel his hand tighten its grip on yours. 

He sighed, looking back up to your seemingly intoxicated face. Choso parted his lips, daring to say the first words that came to his mind. You raised your eyebrows and gripped his hand to urge him to give you a reason. “Cause I don't know what it means.” he retorted quietly.

You scoffed, an amused smile on your lips as you nodded your head. Not knowing how he could be so insightful in some ways and completely blind when it came to this. 

Your eyes scanned his features, “How many times do I have to tell you before you get it?” you quipped, seeing his eyes pool with confusion at your question. 

“I like you so much, Cho.” you whispered, seeing his eyebrows furrow harshly at the shortened version of his name. “I stare at you because I like you.” You assured, “I laugh at everything you say because I like you.”, watching his eyes blink down in timidness. In his mind, actually processing your words took a lot of effort. 

“Can I be honest?” you whispered, seeing his lips mouth an ‘okay.’ to your question. “I don’t think I've ever liked someone in the way I like you.” Choso exhaled at your words- mumbling a ‘stop’ as you smiled.

You exhaled, “I'm being serious. You're just-” you started, only for Choso to raise your hand and place it flat onto his chest. His eyes trembled as he looked at you with a stern but pained expression. You raised your eyebrows at how fast his heart pounded in his chest, explaining why he asked you to stop without words. 

Your lips curled into a sweet smile, pulling his hand that was wrapped around your wrist, holding your hand flat on his chest as you led his hand towards your exposed cleavage in attempts to show him how fast your own heart was beating.

Only for his eyes to widen and pull his hand from your grasp in shock- all but clutching his imaginary pearls as he hissed your name. Mortified to even think of touching you there. 

A small laugh left your throat at how he exclaimed your name. You were kind enough to not attempt to do that again- fearing his heart might go into cardiac arrest from being skin to skin. Instead you pulled your hand from his chest, guiding his opposite one onto your wrist and pressing his index and middle finger onto the pulse in your wrist. 

His eyebrows furrowed as he felt your racing pulse against his two fingers, “You make me just as nervous.” you whispered softly, smiling as he parted his lips. 

Choso softened his gaze, “You do a great job at hiding it.” he whispered back, recalling every moment his heart palpitated in his chest- wondering if all those times your heart was racing too. 

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“I think this is the first official date I've ever been on-”  you smiled, now standing outside. Thinking how stupid it was that the exit was on the other end of the building.

Choso furrowed his eyebrows, “First, first date you mean?” he clarified your statement assumingly.

You scoffed with a smile, “No, the only date I've ever been on.” seeing his expression fall in surprisement. 

Choso nodded his head as though that proclamation didn't make his heart burst in his chest, “Besides the times where we'd hang out after class- but I think this one is the first official one.” you grinned, pulling his hand with you as you turned to start walking back to the car. 

‘The times we’d hang out..?’ he thought, recalling the afternoons you'd spend with him. 

He inhaled quickly, “Those were dates?” he urged with a horrified look on his face, scanning at your profile. You looked at him as you stepped slowly.

Raising your eyebrows almost amused, “Well when two people like each other- and admit it to each other,” You taunted playfully, turning the corner of the sidewalk, “If both are consenting parties-” you continued your mocking tone as Choso listened to your words, to be sure he wouldn't miss hearing what you were saying.

“They start dating.” you teased, looking at him with a smile full of satisfaction.

In his mind, he replayed every moment from when he admitted he liked you till now- reevaluating them at the new information. With warm cheeks that were grazed by the cold air, “Are we..” he started, his palm becoming clammy against yours at the words he dared to spout. “Dating?” He asked, looking at you in a new light at that word.

No longer were you a person he liked- or a school friend. He was a person you were dating.

A soft chuckle left your throat at the dramatized words, “Don't tell me you just wanted to be a situationship?” you asked with feigned offense, furrowing your eyebrows as he listened to your words.

His face fell, trying to process the word you just said, “What is a situationship?” he asked almost scornfully at the unknown word as his grasp in your hand tightened. A sweet laugh left your throat at his question, not even being too sure of what that word meant yourself.

“Cho- are we dating or not?” you asked- turning the question around on him. His face went pink, both at the confrontation and the nickname- looking at you as though you hung the stars in the sky. You raised your eyebrows waiting for his reply. 

Choso tried to think- he tried using all 4 fried brain cells in his mind to formulate a proper sentence, but all his trembling lips could muster was one word;

“Yes.”

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The walk back to the car was silent- You were pleased with how much he blushed, how you practically forced him to confirm that your goal was achieved. 

Choso, on the other hand, had a mortified look on his face. The fear of taking the first step was long gone since the first 3 steps were already taken unbeknownst to him. In his mind he started seeing every possibility, every negative thing that could wait for him 10 miles down the road. Choso knew he should've been elated- but he couldn't help the heavy feeling in his chest as he thought of the future.

Staring at him lovingly, “Where to now?” you broke the silence as he opened the car door for you, holding your hand with trembling fingers as you eased into the vehicle.  

Choso hurried to the other side of the car, taking a deep breath before getting into it. Thinking how everything is different now- he drove this car as your friend and now he was driving it as a person you were dating.

You scooched back to the spot you previously sat in, “I hope you're hungry-” he started, his cheeks tingling as he felt your hand interlock with his again, “God– I am starving.” You interrupted, looking over to him with an enticing grin.

Choso smiled to himself, “I have a fridge full of groceries waiting for us.” he tried ignoring your tracing thumbs as he put the car in drive.

You reached a hand over and pushed a few stray strands of hair that blocked his profile from you. “You gonna cook for me?” You hummed sweetly, seeing the blush on his cheeks deepen. 

A small ‘Mhm’ left his lips as he pulled out of the street parking, you looked at him with adoring eyes, intoxicated on how close you were to him. “Those plates were definitely a good idea huh?” you asked smugly.

He sighed with a smile, “Yes. They were a phenomenal idea.” he fed into your boastful tone.

You looked at him, admiring that he cared enough to agree with you,“You’re so-” you hesitated as you tried to find the word, “So,” Choso was smiling as he awaited your words. You gritted your teeth- feeling cuteness aggression, “It's like I made you in a computer.” You smiled, hearing a hearty laugh from his chest.

The entire ride back to the campus- you didn't let go of his hand. The cringey love songs played on the radio quietly, with any song you recognized you’d tell him a memory from your upbringing. Grazing the tips of your fingers along his larger ones. 

Choso made sure to listen to every single word you'd speak into the air- “M’sorry I know I'm talking a lot-” you sighed, noticing he wasn’t replying to your words.

Hee scoffed, “Don't apologize- I like listening to you talk.” flashing his eyes over to you as you nodded your head in disbelief at how smoothe he could be at times.

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You didn't check your phone the entire time. So you were happily relishing in the peace you felt being in the presence of him. 

Walking past the entryway of his apartment, reaching into your coat pocket and taking it off as Choso reached for it in your hand, hanging it along with his on the coat rack. 

You checked the stupid piece of aluminum, widening your eyes at the countless messages from your overbearing roommate, and checking the time. 9:05 pm as you heard Choso set down the boxed plates onto the kitchen counter in front of you.

You sighed as you pulled out a barstool from the wall, furiously typing as Choso gently peeled off the tape from the box.

Looking across the kitchen counter at you as you settled on the barstool with furrowed eyebrows. Scanning your bugged expression, “Everything okay?” he pulled you from your thoughts. 

You sighed as you shut off the phone, placing it onto the counter faced down as you looked at him- completely defeated. “I’m moving out.” you claimed with a deadpan tone.

Choso looked at you from the cabinet, “What now?” he smiled as he reached for a pan. 

“I have like- 50 texts and 20 missed calls from my-” you were interrupted, Choso finished your sentence, ‘roommate’, watching as you huffed a sweet smile at how he knew what you were ranting about. “Regardless, I'm moving- even if I live on the street for a few days. I can't stay at that house anymore.” You sighed, watching Choso turn on two knobs on the stove. 

Looking at him with defeated eyes, “You won't live on the street.” he assured, turning around and opening the fridge. 

You rested your elbow on the counter, placing your chin in your hand as you watched him set various small containers of already prepared herbs onto the counter. “At the end of the day people really are disappointing aren't they?” you asked with a sigh, watching as he pulled out two pre-marinated chicken breasts from the fridge. 

Choso decided to ignore your previous statement- not wanting to sullen the mood even more, “Are they like this with your other roommates?” he asked with a smile, drizzling oil into the pan. Going to lower the heat on the small steel pot on the back burner before moving to stand in front of you. 

You watched as he slowly pulled his jewelry from his fingers, “No- if anything they enable their behavior.” eyeing the silver metal on the counter, your proclamation earning a sigh from Choso.

He noticed your eyes following his hands, furrowing his eyebrows at your gawking. “You need better roommates.” he declared, turning to the sink and washing his hands as you reached for the abandoned metal he left on the counter.  

As you rolled the warm metal in your hand you sighed, “I need to move out is what I need-” watching as he dried his hands. You smirked to yourself, “If I was your neighbor would you cook for me everyday?” You asked- half joking as he looked up from the searing pan.

Choso smiled at your question, picking up one of the raw chickens, “If you were my neighbor I’d cook for you anytime you asked.” he flashed his eyes up at you before placing the white meat into the pan, a loud sizzle coming from the action.

You rested your elbows onto the counter with a hearty giggle, “You say that now- But when m’knocking at your door 2-3 times a day- you can't complain.” you warned, watching as he let out a half laugh.

He picked up metal tongs from the utensil holder, “If you knock on my door 2-3 times a day- I won't have any reason to complain,” he spoke your name in reassurance as he flipped the grilling chicken on the other side. 

You laughed to yourself, not being able to sense any nervousness or hesitation in his words anymore, almost as though he gained more confidence in the past half hour. 

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As he plated the cooked chicken, you watched with a grumbling stomach. Almost drooling as he scooped a decent portion of mashed potatoes onto the brand new white plate, “God- that looks so good.” You bit your lip, reaching your hands to the plate. 

“Wait-” he held onto the edgeas he reached for a pre-cut lemon- squeezing it gently as the citrus glazed the browned chicken.

With a warm smile he spoke, “There- now you can eat it.” looking down to the beautifully plated meal, you sighed. Grabbing onto the edge of the plate and pulling it towards you.

You looked back to him, “I can wait for you-” you muttered, hoping he'd say no. 

He exhaled, smiling as he watched your eyes full of hunger flicker from him back down to your serving. “It's okay- you eat.” He assured, watching the smile return on your lips as you picked up the metal fork placed on the side of the plate. 

Choso watched you expectantly, the fork scraping against the plate as you sliced into the meat-piercing the chunk you cut off and lifting it to your lips, looking at him as you placed the fork into your mouth. The warmth from the grilled chicken landing on your tongue as you pulled the fork from your lips- leaving nothing on it with a sigh from your nose.

Chewing a few times as you closed your eyes, savoring the flavor between every bite. 

You swallowed, opening your eyes and nodding your head, “You're insane.” you mumbled, looking at his expression unchanged- not knowing if that was a good thing or a bad thing. 

“Please finish cooking so I can eat more-” you joked, placing the fork onto your plate, he scoffed at the words that seemed like a compliment. 

And as you asked, he plated his own serving, not with a quarter as much love nor care- but it was infront him as he leaned down to take a bite, assuring you it was fine for you to continue eating. 

He hummed as he placed the fork down onto his plate, “I didn't even offer you anything to drink-” he scoffed to himself reaching to the cupboard above his head and pulling down two glass cups. 

You opened your mouth- hesitating to speak as you watched him turn to the fridge, “Not to sound alcohol-dependent or anything-” you grinned as he peeked back to you. “But do you…?” you insinuated with half lidded eyes. 

Choso sighed, “I don't. I have water and orange juice.” he mumbled, knowing exactly what you were trying to do- but he knew in his bones it wouldn't have been a good idea to let you drink right now. 

You gave a half laugh, “Water is fine.” you smiled as he reached into the fridge. Choosing to keep the bottle of ‘Titos’ he had a secret from you.

Pulling out a glass bottle from the fridge he had bought yesterday. Pouring water into your glass as you chewed on your affection infused meal. 

You placed down your fork, swallowing the previous bite before reaching for the cold glass. “You'd really be okay with me moving next door?” watching his eyes trail down to his plate.

Choso inhaled, “If it makes you happier- and not feel so stressed, I would let you move in here-” he spoke mindlessly, halting his chewing as he realized what he said. He inhaled sharply- feeling like your silence was deafening. He was about to apologize-

Only you laughed, “All my clothes would not fit in your closet.” you inhaled as you placed a bite of the mashed potatoes into your mouth. He huffed through his nose at your comment, pleased that you took it as a joke rather than how he truly meant it. 

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Somewhere between him finishing half of his meal and your 5th compliment on how fucking good the food tasted- a battle ship board was put up between you. 

Furrowed eyebrows staring back at you as he called out a number on the board. You hissed as you looked at your side of the game, “Nope.” you grinned as he gruffed at his attempts.

You were examining your grid, trying to use all the divination you could muster before he spoke up- “Did I tell you I'm thinking of getting a job?” he smiled, watching your furrowed eyebrows ease at the question. 

You gasped, “No! Don't do that-” holding a peg in your hand as his expression churned to confusion. “I won't be able to see you as often.” you pouted, looking down at your board. The words seemingly came unfiltered from your heart, and the sight of you pouting at the idea of not being able to see him as much anymore was more than enough to push that idiocy to the side.

And though you meant it as a half joke, it still pained you to know that now- of all times. When things were finally advancing, he'd pull away. 

“If you need money-” your lungs threatened to laugh at the words forming on your lips. “I'd be more than happy to pay for your time.” You spewed as though you were a sleazy 80 year old man speaking to a lady of the night. 

Choso furrowed his eyebrows and parted his lips, “Like an escort??” he huffed a laugh, you looked up from your board with an entertained smile. “No- no, not like an escort-” you defended. 

Calling out a number on the board as he nodded his head. “Like a paid…” you thought of the word, “Though I can't call you a friend anymore can I?” You spoke to yourself as he scanned his side of the plastic game, smiling at the thought that you'd no longer hesitate when referring to him. 

He inhaled as he took a bite from the coldening food, looking over to your plate and seeing you had finished. “I thought you were broke?” he spoke thoughtlessly, not being able to feel the hesitance before he spoke now. 

Your smile fell, he squinted his eyes as you shook off the sudden heavy feeling- “You're that expensive?” you chirped, looking at him bewildered at the thought he might've taken your words seriously. 

Choso scoffed, “No, you don't have to pay me to hang out with you.” he reiterated, watching as you fiddled with the peg in your hand. Recalling your query of if he'd mind if you were his neighbor. “But I remember you said you were broke..?” he looked at you with detective eyes as you called out a square on the grid. Sucking his teeth when you actually hit one of his boats. 

You hummed as you avoided eye contact, “I uhh-” you lowered your shoulders and raised a brow, “I figured it out.” flashing a warm smile at him. Only you meant it in an assuring way- Choso saw past it. He saw the way your lips fell after you said that, the way your eyes dimmed from recalling what you were hiding. 

You cleared your throat, “Meaning, I can afford your company now.” you circled back to the silly topic with a smile, Choso sneered through his nose at your insistence. He opened his mouth to speak- but you spoke before he could. 

“What kind of job?” you looked at him, changing the topic before he called out a number on the grid. 

He sucked his teeth, “I was thinking at the library- Quiet, don't have to do a whole lot.” He muttered as he studied the target grid. “Or I could apply to be a TA.”squinting before calling out a number. 

You tightened your lips, mouthing a curse as you marked a small boat with a red peg. “Why now of all times?” you asked as you waited for him to call out another number.

Choso parted his lips- almost saying the words that popped into his mind before closing his mouth. “No- say what you were thinking.” you caught onto the little habit he had developed since he was a child.

He smiled at your attentiveness, “I was thinking, now that I’m..” looking at you with a blushing smile, you raised your eyebrows, all but saying ‘go on.’

“Now that I am seeing someone.” he murmured, looking down at the board embarrassed and trying to ignore your gaze, you laughed at his avoidant eyes. 

You inhaled, nodding your head ‘no’ disapprovingly. “You don't need to get a job just because we're dating, Cho.” you assured, standing from the barstool and taking a step around the end of the kitchen counter, standing before his figure as he looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, “Look at all the times we've hung out- not once did we need money or to go out to have fun.” placing a hand on his bicep and squeezing gently to affirm your words even more. 

Choso inhaled, “Would it be enough?” he muttered as he looked down to his shoes. You scoffed, trailing your hand down to his forearm, then to his hand. 

“I would be more than fulfilled if all we did was stay here and play board games day after day.” you whispered, holding your hand gently in his as he felt his throat close up-

He looked back to you with creased eyebrows, the tip of his nose daring to turn pink from an expression that looked close to tears. “You want a hug?” you asked sweetly, hearing a sniffle from his nose before pulling you to him.

Your hands wrapped around his waist as his arms rested atop your shoulders, holding you tightly as your bodies came together in a perfect mold. Choso held one hand on the back of your neck softly, the other pressed taut between your shoulder blades as you smiled into his chest, circling your hands soothingly on his spine, he sniffled before speaking.

“Be honest. Did you come over here to look at where my boats were?” you breathed out- defeated that he saw through your plot. Pulling away from him as his hands hesisted to let you go from the hug that felt like home. 

You looked at him with a cheeky smile, “I did.” you nodded, looking over to his side of the board and seeing you were close to winning by a few more pegs. You looked back to him, parting your lips expectantly as he took a step back.

‘Be well-mannered’ Choso thought as he watched you brush off the slight disappointment. 

He cleared his throat, “I think it's time to take you home.” he smiled, watching your eyes blink down to your shoes that had to be uncomfortable by now. 

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The trip to your house was short now that there was a car, and yet- you still held onto him as though it was the last time you'd have the chance to. 

Choso parked on the opposite side of the street, turning off the car as your eyes looked at the wooden door across the street almost resentfully. “Ready?” he asked, knowing you’d refuse to face the music were he not there. 

With a begrudged exhale, you nodded your head. 

Choso held the car door open for you, holding your hand as you stepped onto the street. You almost resented how polite he was- knowing if it were anyone else they would have invited you to stay the night- regardless if it was a first date. 

But not him, Choso didn't dare to even think of asking that of you.

And as you stood before him on your unlit porch, you smiled, “Thank you.” with a whisper, looking into his eyes as he scanned the prominent aspects of your face.

“Don't thank me.” he murmured, his voice low and throaty as he watched the sparkle in your eye round your pupil. 

With a modist smile, you looked at him impatiently. “I think this is where you kiss me goodnight.” you leaned forward mere millimeters as Choso refused to step back this time. 

He gulped at your words, “It wouldn't be polite.” he dissuaded lowly as you grinned innocently. 

Close enough that you were breathing the same air- “It would be more impolite not to, Choso.” you compelled, watching his gaze dart from your lips back to your eyes. 

He raised his hands to the side of your face- thumbs caressing your temples softly, parting your lips as his fingers kept a light touch beneath your ears. You fluttered your eyes closed as you heard ringing in your mind, cheeks warm and tingling as you awaited.

Only you awaited something to press against your lips- But Choso had other plans.

His parted lips pressed onto the center of your forehead, pulling away with your head in his hands. It wasn't disappointment- more like a challenge that you felt. “Goodnight,” he spoke your name in an intoxicating tone, softly taking his hands from your face and taking a step back from you.

You couldn't help but smile at his chivalry, “You're cruel.” you whispered, earning a quiet half-laugh from his chest. 

“It’s not respectful to kiss you on a first date.” He scolded playfully, watching you roll your eyes lightheartedly. 

You stared at him as you leaned your back onto the door, placing your hand on the brass knob before sucking your teeth. “When is a respectful time then?” you murmured, watching his hands slide into his coat pockets.

“Third. Maybe even fourth date.” he smiled, knowing that would gain a feigned groan of dissatisfaction from you. Though it was earlier than you'd like-  10:43 to be exact, you were still grateful he was courteous enough to bring you back home as though you had a curfew. 

“Goodnight Cho.” you smiled, turning the brass knob as he kept his eyes on you.

Were the porch light on you’d be able to see the beaming blush on his cheeks, “Goodnight.” he replied sweetly, watching as you stepped into your house, taking one last look at him before waving a small goodbye. 

Choso was able to contain the excitement in his throat till he turned away from your porch, his lungs threatening to start hyperventilating as he tried to confirm with himself if that actually just happened. He stood at the car door- looking up at the sky and thanking whatever celestial being was out there for the lucky hand he was dealt. 

There was one thought in his mind at that moment. He was now sure that you made him feel more alive and far less lost than he felt without you. And he relished in that thought as he drove back to his apartment, no longer fearing the future- if anything he was thrilled to know that for the first time, love finally loved him back.

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and if I told you I over indulged sooo much in this chapter??? and if i said........ I almost hemorrhaged writing this?!!! this was too cute, (just wait till I write abt the first time they have sex) And if you're curious- yes the rewarding cigarette was delicious.

[blinddreams24]

Monster Under the Bed

Night 4. Killer

Inspired by @starzeah123

(First)

(Previous)

(Next)

Thud.

“Woah! … Ooh~! Soft!”

You stretched as you woke to your guest. “Morning.” You yawned.

A skeletal head peeked at you before you could move to look, lightless eye sockets stared at you. “Well, hi!”

You flinched back, not expecting your visitor to immediately get up in your face.

“Whatcha doin’?” He asked and tilted his head. There was a big, slightly concerning grin on his face.

“Uh…” You watched him carefully. For whatever reason, you didn’t trust this skeleton. “I was sleeping. Now I’m wondering if you came back for food?”

He chuckled. “Came back?” Despite lacking eyelights, you felt him look you up and down. “I’ve never even met you before. Who’dja meet?” His grin looked pleasant but was bothering you for some reason.

“What do you me- oh! I met Cross.” You replied. “And the big guy with the red eye.”

His grin spread somehow. “Crossy and Horror! And they didn’t kill you?” He tilted his head curiously as if he hadn’t just commented on your death like the weather.

There was a sense of danger and dread as you sat up a little to put some distance between you and the monster under your bed. “…No. If his name was Horror, what’s yours?”

He gave you a sly look. “Asking for my name already? You haven’t even told me yours~.”

“Oh! Right, sorry.” Despite your intuition and the obvious red flags of this guy, you offered your hand to shake. “I’m y/n.” You smiled genuinely.

His smile looked wrong on his face. He took your hand to shake. “Killer.”

“That’s… an interesting name.” You commented.

“It’s technically a nickname.” He chirruped happily.

The implication that he earned that name bothered you even more.

“Cool.” He wasn’t letting go of your hand. “Do you know how you got here?”

Killer laughed. “How I got to boss’s place or yours?”

“Uh, mine.” Sounded like an interesting story but it also sounded really long.

“Teleported.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, obviously. I meant what made you teleport here specifically. This is the fourth night this has happened.”

He chuckled as he finally let your hand go. “Four nights? I thought you said you only met CrissCross and Rory?”

It took you a second to realize that Killer meant Cross and Horror. “Well, the night before Cross told me his name, he came in all messed up. Kept mumbling to Papyrus even though he doesn’t live here-.”

Killer barked a laugh. “You met Dust first?!? How ARE you alive?!?” His head fell below the bed and out of sight as he laughed and tried composed himself.

“He was just hungry.”

“Damn! What did you feed him?!” Killer peeked back at you.

You shrugged. “I assumed he’d like Papyrus’s spaghetti since I thought he was Pap’s brother.” You hesitated. “…Is he Papyrus’s brother?”

Killer nodded his head back and forth in a so-so manner. “Yes and no. His brother was Papyrus. Just not your Papyrus.”

“My Papyrus? Are there other monsters named Papyrus?”

He did that weird nod again, grinning. “Yes and no.” He glanced at the door. “You got any food? I’m starvin’.”

You sighed but smiled. “I’m sure I could find something.” You scooted out of bed.

He was immediately right next to you, towering over you slightly despite almost being the same height. A blob of red light hovered over his chest, twisting and turning like a nest of angry bees. It flashed dangerously and black liquid leaked from his eyes.

You recognized his actions.

He was trying to intimidate you.

You walked past him, unbothered. “I’ve got spaghetti if you want some?”

If your reaction shocked him, he didn’t let it show. “Pap’s?”

“Yep. Only the best.” You grinned.

He chuckled softly and this time it sounded genuine. “Yeah. The best…”

You’ve gotten used to making spaghetti by now and quickly reheated some spaghetti. It was a good thing Cross bought you more food or you would have run out with how many people were eating your leftovers.

Killer hovered over you the entire time you “cooked” the leftovers. You really just popped it into the microwave and watched it spin for several minutes while he hovered over your shoulder like an annoying little brother.

“…You live here by yourself?” He asked, startling you from zoning out.

“Yeah…” You mumbled before you thought about it. Maybe telling a stranger that wasn’t a good idea.

“Hm.” He leaned over your shoulder, uncomfortably close. “I saw your little plushies. You like child’s toys?”

You shrugged. “They’re just cute.”

“Just cute? They don’t remind you of anything or hold any significance to you?”

“Not really, no.”

The microwave beeped at you. You pulled out the spaghetti and handed it to him. “Enjoy.”

He grinned and took the food, pulling it away as if he expected you to fight him for it. “Thanks.”

The next thirty minutes was filled with his voice as he half ate half rambled, going on about how this world is just one of thousands, no, millions of alternate realities. He went on and on as you just nodded along. You didn’t believe a word he said but he did have some good points. Sucked that he was crazy. You might’ve actually believed him if he wasn’t.

“What now?” He asked suddenly, shoving the empty dish away from himself. “What do you do after feeding the guys? Movie? Cuddles~?” He bounced his brows suggestively.

You rolled your eyes. “Sleep. I go to sleep. Do you want the cubby or the couch?”

“Oh, I want that cubby I came in on.” He stood and walked over to you. You weren’t sure what he was doing until he tossed you onto his shoulder.

“Wh- Hey!!” You tried to roll off. “What are you doing?? Let go!!”

“Nope~.” Killer’s grin was in his voice. “You said it was bed time. So we’re going to bed.”

“You are NOT sleeping in my bed!!!” You snapped.

He chuckled and teased. “Aw, you take the fun out of everything! I wasn’t even going to!” He dragged you into your room and set you at the foot of your bed by the ladder. “There. Now, you climb up there, I’ll crawl down here, and we’ll see if the boss doesn’t notice us.”

“The boss?”

“Shush.” He shooed you into bed. “Go to sleep.”

You rolled your eyes again and climbed into bed for the night. It was weird sharing a room with someone, especially someone named Killer, but you eventually managed to fall asleep as he rambled on and on.

In the morning, as usual, your skeleton friend was gone but this time you noticed one of your plushies was missing too.

You smiled and started your coffee for the day.