#these cliffhangers are killer!

[lovecolibri]

That season 3 cliffhanger SHUT UP!! How dare they ruin Lopez's wedding! Nothing better happen to her or that baby or I am gonna lose it!

[malarkgirlypop]

MEDIC! - 5th Part (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)

Hello again. Well I thought to end the birthday weekend with a bang I will post another chapter. Now this chapter is very sappy in some places just giving fair warning! If anyone also wants to listen to some music while they read I have a few recommendations. I will put in bold where to start listening to a certain song, I was listening to it when I wrote it and I was a mess. I do have to give a trigger warning so I will down below. Anyway I hope you enjoy, thank you for all the love it makes me so happy. I have never posted my writing anywhere so for it to be met with such praise is really amazing. I have more to come so don't you worry! As always this is based off the HBO series and the actors who portray these characters, no disrespect to the WW2 men!

Bold in the story start listening to Killer + The Sound by Phoebe Bridgers. Also another really sad song that is good for the mood is epiphany by Taylor Swift.

Trigger warning: Sexual assault, death, violence. (I think that is all sorry if I missed any)

Snow crunches under my feet as I walk. I tread carefully, not being able to see very far in front of me due to the heavy fog that lays in the trees. In this position in the forest we are basically on top of the Germans so it is easy if you walk too far to go over enemy lines and fall upon an infantry of soldiers. I wrap my jacket around my body as heat escapes me, I search the ground trying to find a good place to go to the toilet. The forest is eerily quiet apart from the sounds of distant gunshots and explosions. There are no other signs of life, no birds in the trees, insects, or small animals that normally reside in the forest. We seem to have cleared them all out, unlike us, they know better to stay here and have found shelter somewhere else. I keep my eyes vigilant scanning the forest as I walk, turning to look behind me like a paranoid girl walking home in the dark. I continue through the snow scouting for the best spot, I pause looking up at a lifeless figure lying in the snow. My heart stops. He is definitely not an American soldier, my eyes frantically scan as I am a deer in headlights. My eyes wander over more bodies, they lie still with a light coating of white resting on their skin. Is it bad that my heart relaxes knowing that all of them are dead and I get to live another day. I stumble back from the scene in front of me, making my way back to camp. I walk for a bit before finding three men, my heart leaps in fright, “Flash.” I call to them unable to see their uniforms in the dense fog. “Thunder.” The men reply. I make my way over to them. “Hey, just to let you know just up ahead there is an infantry of German soldiers, fortunately they are all dead.” I say walking past them. 

“Emily, isn’t it?” One of the men turns to me, I don’t recognise him, I don’t think he is from Easy company. 

“Yes?” I say, I guess he knows me. I mean there wouldn’t be many other female medics in the company and gossip does spread like wildfire around here.

A sinister grin forms on the man’s lips as the two behind me stare with cold eyes. I give a small smile, making my way past the men, my gut clenching not being comfortable in this situation. In a blur I am flung back, the man seems to have captured my mouth with a cloth yanking me back by my head. My legs fly out from beneath me from the shift in gravity. I plummet to the ground landing on my back the air from my lungs being knocked out of me. The men work in quick motions, the one with the gag tying it around my mouth while the others flip me over hog tying my limbs. I writhe on the ground, the gag muffling my protesting screams. They talk to each other quietly as they flip me onto my back. 

“Shhh.” One of them whispers in my face. His nose pressed to my cheek. Tears well in my eyes, I can’t move away from the man’s breath fanning on my face. His hands come up cupping my face, he presses wet kisses to my cheeks trailing down my neck. My stomach lurches, threatening to bring up my lunch. I choke back tears, trying to squirm away from his hold. The other men take this opportunity to grab at my clothes, their filthy hands making their way under my clothes, groping and grabbing at my skin. The man kissing me rips my top open exposing my t-shirt underneath. Before they can go any further rapid gunfire echoes around the woods the gun sounds close. There is a pause before the shooting goes again this time hitting trees around us, the men duck waiting for the break in rounds. When it stops they get to their feet hastily darting out of sight running back in the direction of camp. I wriggle trying to free myself from the knots around my limbs, but the more I struggle the tighter they become. I don’t call out terrified I will be found by German soldiers. The cold nips at my torso as the men left me uncovered only in my t-shirt. Time passes as I try to figure out how the hell to free myself from the ropes. I am stuck on my side, lying in the cold snow. My teeth chatter into the gag, as I try everything to free myself from the binds. After a while I stop shivering, my eyes grow tired begging me to let them close and slip away into a never ending slumber. I can tell I am in the later stages of hypothermia. My body doesn’t ache anymore, the cold making its way through my bones till my whole body is numb. Maybe if I fall asleep here I will wake back up in my own timeline where I left. After all this time being out here I finally give up, letting my eyes close ready for the most peaceful sleep I have had in a while now. I hear the crunch of boots in snow, I don’t open my eyes or call attention to myself. I'm too tired. The crunch comes closer. 

“Jesus. Fucking. Christ!” I hear in the distance. Hands land on my body, I crack my eyes open only seeing a blurry figure hovering above me. 

“Emily?” I hear the man say, he gently shakes me but I can’t get my eyes to open. A hand taps my face and I crack my eyes open slightly. I feel the gag being untied from the back of my head. I’m grateful to be able to breathe properly as I suck in a gulp of air.�� 

“OMG you’re alive.” The voice is familiar but my brain is too foggy to connect the voice to the man. My weight is shifted, my head lolls back as the ground leaves from behind me. I keep my eyes closed, the tightness around my limb loosens. I am gathered into the man's arms. I feel him stand, pressing me to his chest. I hear the rapid footfall of the man as we run through the forest. I open my eyes slightly, seeing a blurry man looking concerned. I focus my eyes on the canopy above us watching the green against the white sky. What a beautiful sight to see, the contrast of the almost black green against the pure white. I close my eyes again. 

“MEDIC, MEDIC!” I hear the man yell his calls rumbling through his chest into me.

“Jesus Christ, who is that?” Someone else says. 

“It’s Emily! I found her fucking hog tied and half stripped near enemy lines.” He pants. Other hands land on my body, my eyelids being pulled open, two heads hover above me as a light shines in my eye. Hands land on my body doing a secondary survey to find other injuries. 

“She has some bruising on her torso but other than that no other injuries. But she is hypothermic. We have to get her warm, give her to me.” I hear the other man say. The grip of the man holding me tightens. 

“No, she’s staying with me.” They squeeze me into them. 

“Ok, well she has to get warm.” The other man agrees.

“Are we not taking her to the hospital?” The man holding me asks.

“No, we might lose her if we take her. We need to get her warm immediately. Follow me.” I feel us moving again as we follow the medic. We march forward, sounds of gunshots ring out, the man drops us to the floor, my head snaps back from the sudden movement. 

“Jesus Malarkey be careful, we don’t need her with a concussion as well as hypothermia.” Scolds the medic. We soon move forward again after the coast is clear.    

“Captain Winters, Sir. We need to use your foxhole.” The medic says. 

“Why what’s going on? Who is that?” Asks the Captain. 

“It’s Emily Sir. I found her tied up by enemy lines, her clothes were ripped off of her.” Malarkey interjects. 

“She’s severely hypothermic Sir, we may lose her if we don’t act fast.” The other voice says. 

“Get her in the foxhole, I will get some blankets.” The Captain commands. I hear the sound of shuffling. 

“Here pass her to me, and then you get in.” The medic says, I feel my body being moved from one person to another, I am lowered down into a hole. I feel myself being set on the hard floor. The sound of someone landing sounds next to me. I am again passed to a set of arms. 

“Take off your jacket, put it over you two. The fastest way we are going to get her warm is with our own body heat.” There is movement behind me, soon after I am pressed against a warm chest as a jacket is laid over my torso. I feel his legs on either side of mine, my face pressed into the crook of his neck. He swivels my body so my legs are draped over one of his legs, he presses me as closely as he can to himself. 

“It’s ok. It’s ok, you’re going to be ok.” He coos I’m unsure if it’s to make me or him feel better. His hand runs down my hair in a gentle manner, like putting a child to sleep. More movement sounds from above us. I want to open my eyes and look at who is holding me, to gather my bearings but my body is so slow and tired it doesn’t have the energy to do the simple task. It’s like I have sleep paralysis, I am lucid hearing everything around me just unable to move. My body is only keeping my heart pumping and nothing else, trying to conserve the little energy it has left. 

“Blankets Malarkey.” I hear a familiar voice from above us. I feel the weight of the blankets being placed on us. 

“Who did this Don?” I hear Winters asks. 

“I don’t know Sir. She was so close to enemy lines the Krauts could’ve done it.” Malarkey suspects. 

I hear footsteps coming down to our level. “Gene, she's freezing.” Malarkey says concerned. 

“We are going to have to switch between the men, have them come back to warm her up. If you sit with her too long you might also become too cold. We will do hour stints. I will send someone back from the line to take over for you.” Gene says he also seems concerned. I feel fingers taking my pulse on my wrist. 

“Her pulse is slow and faint.” Gene says anxious. “Her breathing is also very shallow. Keep her airway open, also talk to her, you don’t know if she can hear us or not, we don’t want her to panic, it could make her situation worse.” Gene instructs. “I have to get back to the front. I will send someone back in an hour.” I hear Gene leave. Malarkey gently rocks us back and forward; his breathing is more frantic than normal. 

“Emmy, you’ll be ok.” He hums in my ear. “How about I tell you a story?” He asks even though I can’t reply. “Do you know I was a volunteer firefighter? I was a firefighter when there was a huge fire in the Tillamook forest, I don’t know if you heard about it or not?” His gentle voice tells me stories for the hour. Footsteps sound from above us, I have been in and out of consciousness with Malarkey, becoming ludic through his stories he told then falling back into darkness. 

“God, so it is true.” I hear from above us. Malarkey jerks. I think he had fallen asleep while holding me. 

“Is she any better?” The man above us asks. 

“No, she is still freezing and she hasn’t woken either.” Malarkey replies. “Introduce yourself to her and talk to her in case it helps her come around.” Malarkey instructs Gene’s requests to the new man. 

“I know Doc gave me the rundown, it’s all anyone is talking about on the front. They almost rioted you know. The men all wanted to come back to be with her.” I hear his voice come closer as he lands in the foxhole. I am shifted as Malarkey moves from behind me, I am slowly lowered into a new body. 

“Hey Em. It’s Lieb.” He says from behind me. He makes himself comfortable sitting me between his legs. He has my back pressed to his chest, my head resting on his shoulder, he wraps his arms around my front pulling up the blankets to my chin.

“What happened Em, you said you were just going to the toilet? Who found you? I knew I should’ve come with you. What do they say about the buddy system? Stick to it, that's what they say, god I never should’ve let you go.” Lieb mutters in annoyance, but he couldn’t have known what was going to happen. His fingers trail small circles on my arms. 

“God Em you’re freezing!” He pulls me tighter to him trying to trap the heat between us. 

“When I get my hands on whoever did this Em. They are going to wish they were never born.” Lieb fumes. “But you gotta come back to us, ok, you can’t leave us. What are we going to do without you? I don’t mean to sound sappy but you bring so much joy Em. If you don’t make it through this, I don’t think we can carry on.” Lieb leans his head into my shoulder, almost begging me to stay. But I feel this string pulling me, telling me to just fall into the darkness, to just fade slowly. 

“Please Emmy. I don’t beg, you know I don’t! But you gotta fight this, it may seem easy to leave but stay, stay for us.” Lieb mumbles into my shoulder. After a while he begins to talk again telling me about his family, about his job he used to do as a barber. Again like with Malarkey I fade in and out of consciousness. I become lucid when my body is being moved once more. A big figure sits behind me, I know these arms. Bull curls me into his lap, unlike with Lieb he faces me towards him, tucking my head under his chin. Our chests are pressed together like the signature bear hug he is known for. 

“Oh Darlin’ you’re breaking my heart.” He whispers, stroking strands of hair off of my face. “I hate seeing you like this.” He mumbles, sounding close to tears. I hear footsteps approaching.

“How is she Bull?” Winters asks.

“Sir she is still cold, when is Gene coming to check on her next?” Bull’s voice rumbles in his chest as he speaks to the Captain. 

“He’s coming!” Winters replies. “Who’s next after you?” 

“I’m not sure Sir, Gene is just picking people at random. But the men are keeping time of the stints, so most are volunteering to come back to be here when they know the hour is almost up.” Bull replies. “I think Toye and Bill said they would come back if needed, same with Babe and Luz and a few of the other men as well.” 

“How is she?” A new voice sounds from above, it’s Nixon he sounds tired and stressed.

“I don’t think she’s any better.” Bull says worried. “She hasn’t moved a muscle, I don’t think I have even seen her open her eyes.” Bull’s warm breath tickles my neck as he speaks. 

“We should start a fire that will warm her up.” Nixon says. 

“No Nix, that's how we will get her blown to bits, we don’t need to give away our position.” Winters dismisses Nixon’s idea. 

“Gene!” I hear Nixon call. Feet land next to Bull and I. Fingers grab my wrist softly pressing into my outer arm. Everyone seems to be waiting with baited breath. 

“Well?” Bull asks. I hear a small tutt from Gene, “She’s the same as last time, does she feel any warmer?” 

“A little bit nothing drastic, she’s still not hot enough.” The concern is evident in everyone's voices. I should be better by now! I want to sit up and shake out my sore, stiff limbs but my body is paralysed. I groan internally, wake up! I beg my body but it ignores my request. Open your eyes! I plead. I focus all of my energy into the task, I can feel my eyes moving from under my eyelids but to no avail. All that energy for nothing, I slowly feel myself slipping. No! No! Stay lucid, but it’s too late my mind shuts down and blackness swallows me whole. I can’t remember how long I have been in this hole, multiple people have come and gone. Toye was after Bull. He didn't say much but his fingers traced pictures onto my skin. Bill was next and he told me funny stories from his past. Babe and Luz came after, holding me close, whispering sweet stories and making jokes. But still after each one the outcome was the same, I can imagine the small shake of his head that Gene gave each time he checked on me, the disappointed sighs after he revealed the news to each of the men.

“This isn’t working.” I can hear Nixon’s voice in the distance; he's frantic. 

“It will work, give it time.” Winters tries to convince the man but his voice isn’t as sure as his words.     

Malarkey is with me again, he snores softly while holding me close, his arms wrapped tightly around me like I am a little china doll. 

“Malarkey!” Winters says from behind us. Malarkey jolts upright.

“Yes, Sir!” He says quickly. 

“Get some rest, I can take care of Emily for a while.” Winters says coming into the foxhole. 

“Are you sure Sir?” Malarkey asks, his arms still wrapped around me. 

“I’m sure.” Winters confirms. Malarkey takes a moment, sighing, he bends his head forward pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering. “I’ll come back later ok?” he whispers to me, finally passing me over to Winters.

“Hey Emmy, you’re scaring us all to death today.” Winters says getting comfortable, holding me close to his chest. His hand rubbing up and down my arm, his chin rests on top of my head. 

“I know you’re in there Em, you’re a fighter. You always persevere, and I’m so proud of you.” Winters whispers into the night. 

“There is nothing you can’t do, I believe you can come back from this Em. I don’t think I have ever met a person like you before. Everyone seems to love you, you’re infectious.” He continues. 

“But these men rely on us. We have to rise to the battle if not for ourselves, for them. You’re a hero, you have saved countless lives both with your medicine and with your love.” Winters breath fans my face.

“So for once save yourself, if we can’t you can. I don’t want these men to watch you go Em, it will break them more than they already are, and we are all broken. This war will scar us both physically and mentally, only we know what we have been through. We will go home once we win and have to pretend this part of our life didn’t happen. Like we didn’t see our friends get blown to shreds, or see the faces of the innocent men we have killed in everyday people. We will go home and have to pretend we don’t flinch at every backfiring car and go back to normalcy. We will meet often with the men we served with, slowly watching the numbers dwindle as they pass on, until one of us is left to carry the burden of what we know.” Winters talks to the night. A sob rises in my throat but it doesn’t leave, tears prick from under my eyelids, I feel them escape and run down my cheeks, the warm tears growing cold on my face. 

“Shhhh, it’s ok Em. Take your time, at least I know you can hear me.” Winters’ finger wiping the streaks of tears from my cheeks pressing me closer to him. He rocks us slowly like I am a child being lulled back to sleep. I drift into blackness once again. 

My eyes flutter open, my eyes roam around, I stand in a familiar hallway. I recognise the faded wallpaper and the smiling faces in the pictures on the walls. I make my way down knowing where I am going. I find myself in my childhood lounge, everything looks the same as I left it the day I moved out. My late mother sits on her favourite seat looking out the window.

“Momma?” I whisper not believing my eyes, her soft brown hair falling over her shoulders as she looks away from me. She turns I almost sob, her bright green eyes staring up at me, her same sweet smile making its way onto her face. 

“Hey baby.” She says in a familiar cadence. She reaches her hand out to me. I move my feet forward finding my way to her. I kneel beside her seat, her hands find my face, cupping my cheeks in the same way she used to do when I was upset. Her thumbs gently brush away tears falling down my face. 

“I’ve been waiting for you.” She smiles tilting her head. “You look so pretty my love.” 

My lip quivers, “I’ve missed you.” I say in a broken voice. 

“I know baby, but I have been watching you and I’m so proud of all that you have done.” She places a soft kiss on my cheek. 

“Are you staying?” Her brows knit together. A sob leaves my throat. 

“No Momma.” I whimper. “I can’t stay.” 

“It’s ok, I can wait a bit longer.” She pulls me into a hug, stroking my hair as I sob into her chest. 

“You’re so brave my love.” She whispers. We sit for a while in each other's arms, but in the end I stand, giving her a final kiss on her cheek as she walks me to the front door. I step out and feel myself fall.

---------------------------------------

Chapter 6

[mxalmighty]

a new label, just for you, @desceros

[itachanta]

“Why are you doing this?” > Revenge of Others (2022) ep. 06

[madbard]

In this multiverse, the Stars have been around for a very long time. Stories of their adventures have spread from world to world over the centuries, cloaked in legend and myth.

Ink and Dream are both immortal. Swap wasn’t. When he died in battle, Dream swore to never recruit another mortal to the Stars. It was too dangerous, and Dream couldn’t lose another friend. Ink had other ideas.

Carefully, exquisitely, Ink recreated his friend. Not exactly as he was - that wasn’t possible, and Ink didn’t want to take any risks with this creation. They wanted this to work. So instead, he created a young child. This child would be bold like their friend - clever, resilient and kind. With care, he would grow into a magnificent warrior.

Just before Ink finished drawing, he looked at his creation and hesitated. Was he really trying to copy Swap? It felt wrong, somehow, to make such an exact replica. So in those final moments, Ink carefully drew on the scars Swap would have borne if he had survived that final blow, then brought the child to life.

The child, affectionately nicknamed Blueberry, was brought to an Underswap universe where Swap had died. Hesitant, but ultimately grateful to have his brother back, Swap Papyrus raised him.

Now, Ink couldn’t be there all the time. After all, they had their own duties as the God of Creation (and he had an unfortunate tendency to forget Blueberry existed). But he did visit, and every time he did he told the child of his adventures through the multiverse, of Dream and a legendary hero named Swap. Blueberry idolized the Stars and grew up dreaming of the day he would finally join them. Every day, he trained and sparred, imagining that he was facing deadly enemies. One day, Blueberry knew he would defend entire worlds.

This image shows Blueberry at age 13, 15 years prior to the current events of the story. This is the year Error attacked his universe.

Theme Song:

[blinddreams24]

Compliments

With Horror

Masterlist

Prev / Next

The smell of baked goodies slowly spread across the castle. You know this because the scent is what coaxed you out of the library this time. You set your book in its proper place and headed towards the kitchen. It was faint, but you were able to pick up a few scents from the rest. Cinnamon. Sugar. Peanut butter. Various berries. And definitely batter.

You perked up. Horror must be in one of his ‘dessert’ moods. The last time he did that was around the time you’d first joined. He’d made so many pastries that the gang almost had leftovers. You were surprised how much they could eat. Even if they were skeletons and it didn’t make sense how they could eat in the first place. You also quickly learned to guard your food. Killer was a thief. And Dust too, but he was insanely good at not getting caught. The rest didn’t really steal at all with the exception of Cross and chocolate.

Anyways, you entered the kitchen and were greeted by cinnamon rolls, various cookies(excluding any chocolate), and a few cobblers that Horror was still cooking. On the counter sat a muffin tin with raw batter still inside. Looked like cupcakes were next.

“Hey, Horror. Whatcha makin’?” You leaned against the doorframe.

The skeleton in question looked up at you as he pulled out one of the cobblers. He didn’t seem shocked to see you but, then again, he never did. “Makin’ peach cobbler.” He said, gently shaking the cobbler to show you before pointing inside the oven at the other two desserts. “Blueberry cobbler. Strawberry cobbler.” He spoke slowly as he set the peach version down on a coaster.

“Smells great.” You said. “I wish I could cook like you do. Your cooking is always amazing.”

Horror looked over his shoulder at you and smiled. “You don’t have to. . . Your cooking is good, too.”

“Pffft!” You laugh. “Horror, if you didn’t stand by me, helping me cook, I’d burn the food to a crisp!”

He shook his head. “No, you wouldn’t.”

“Horror.” You calmed yourself and looked Horror dead in the eye. “I’ve burnt pudding.”

His eye light went out.

. . .

“HOW?!?!”

You startled at the new voice and turned to see Cross behind you. He looked shocked, horrified, and fascinated all at once.

He lowered his volume. “How do you burn pudding???”

“That’s what I’m saying!” You laugh.

“How is that even possible?!?”

“I don’t know!!”

“How would you even…” Cross’s brows scrunched together. “What else have you burned?? Water???”

“No, I have not succeeded in burning water, yet.”

“Yet??”

Horror cleared his throat at you both. “You cook well here.”

“Thank you. I’m better at cooking if someone is there to help me. And you’ve been great at teaching me.” You smiled.

Cross looked like he was puzzling something out. “Are you telling me that this entire time, if Horror had left you alone in the kitchen, you would have burnt something??”

You mock scoffed. “It would take a few minutes! I’m not Killer.”

A grin grew across Horror’s face. “You are like Killer though.”

“Oh my stars, Horror, no!” You laughed.

“Someone call me?”

“Speak of the devil.” Cross grumbled as Killer leaned over his shoulder.

“You love me.” Killer peered past you at the food on the table. “Your cooking can be smelled from across the castle, Horror.”

“So can Y/N’s, too, apparently.” Cross mumbled.

“What??” Killer laughed, looking between you and Horror. “What does that mean?”

You rolled your eyes, smile still present on your face. “I was telling these guys about how I burn nearly everything without supervision.”

Killer shrugged. “There’s no way you burn every-”

“Pudding.”

Killer choked on air.

The room burst with laughter as Killer struggled to catch his breath.

“Pudding??” Killer sputtered, eye sockets wide. “How?!?”

You shrug. “Honestly, no idea.”

Killer’s eyes narrowed. “. . . Are you pulling my leg?”

“No, unfortunately. I was making vanilla wafer pudding, had to make the pudding myself, and somehow managed to burn it.”

Horror moved the cupcakes into the oven. “You eat it?”

“Hmm?” You looked over at him, confused.

He closed the oven and set the timer before turning to you. “Did you eat it?”

You thought back. “. . . Yeah. We did eat it. You couldn’t even taste the burnt parts despite seeing that there were little burnt flakes in it.”

“Was it good?”

You shot Cross a confused look and he just shrugged. “Yeah. It was pretty good. Why do you ask?”

A grin split Horror’s face. He pointed at you. “You’re a good cook.”

“I-” You stuttered. “Thanks. But I’m really not-”

“No.” Horror interrupted. He stepped forward and jabbed your chest with a finger. “You are a good cook. No buts.”

Rubbing your chest, you mumbled a more skeptical ‘thanks’. Cross’s eye lights flicked to you.

“You’ve been helping Horror in the kitchen, right?” Killer asked while leaning on Cross.

“Yeah. When I can. Why?” You eyed Killer suspiciously.

He shrugged. “I haven’t noticed any change in Horror’s cooking since you joined. Have you?” Killer poked at Cross.

Cross slapped him away. “No, if anything, it’s gotten better somehow.” Cross looked you in the eyes. “You’re doing great, Y/N.”

You smiled. “Thanks.” You looked at the table decorated in sweets. “Hey, Horror. Can we eat that yet or do you want us to wait?”

Horror grunted. “Soon. I’ll call when it’s ready.” He then shooed you three out of the kitchen to finish cooking.

[killherfreakout]

i’m scared and i’m angry and i’m alone and i’m just. everyone has their shit together but me! look i’m sorry. i’m sorry.

[sleeplessinseattlee]

I did watch the criminal minds reboot but I struggle to remember what even happened…. uhhh there was a network of serial killers. rossi said fuck a lot. they milfed emily. there was… evil buried treasure?

[mx-piggy]

I'm sleeping over at my friend's house from Tuesday night to Wednesday morning, and as much as I'm excited to hang out with my friends before they head off to uni, I'm terrified that I'll get the Afterparty finale spoiled for me before I get home to watch it.

[zeph-phyr]

speaking of gk i rlly need to get caught up on the manga lmaoooo i think it's been a year since i last read it

[mohima21]

The Tale of an Unknown Devil: A Short Story

WC: 1k

Saturday mornings are nothing less than a blessing from God. They are much easier to endure, unlike most workdays. Even the weather seems better on those days.

Quiet thoughts fill Enzoe's head as he stares out of his extravagant balcony. Rain pours down constantly. One would say, "It's raining cats and dogs out there". The green and at the same time, the colorful garden looks blurry through the droplets of rain. The pleasant sound generated by the rain pouring on the ground is hard to ignore. The sky looks duller than ever, unlike the other Saturdays. The fresh, warm scent of coffee fills Enzoe's nostrils as he sips into it once. "Tastes delicious indeed", he thinks. Coffee has always been a lifesaver for Enzoe Jacobs. There have been countless nights that had to be spent without him ever closing his hazel eyes. Nights would go on, while he was at work, dealing with his morbid tasks. He would feel drowsy at times, but oh, would he dare to fall asleep! Many sleepless nights had passed since Enzoe was 17. Coffee was what saved his weary eyes back then. One sip of coffee and he could go on for another sleepless, cold night.

A sudden ring of the telephone snapped him out of his train of thoughts. Hello?"

"Are you Agent Jacobs speaking?"

"I certainly am. What's the occasion, Handler?"

"274 Madison Circle La Habra, CA 90631. A Mexican man with blonde hair and green eyes. Name's Guiterrez, Raúl Guiterrez. Set off at 3 pm, the guy is not supposed to have company."

"Noted."

The other side hung up with a loud stomp. 

"Hell, I thought I had the day off! The handler does not normally call me on Saturdays. This must be an important job then," Enzoe murmurs to himself. The rain has finally stopped. The garden looks more vivid now. The tulip looks quite pale though, how weird! "I have about 6 hours until the job. Some TV should be good to kill time." Enzo turns on the television as the brightness lights up the dark room, despite it being daytime. It's a big, extravagant room though, filled with expensive antique goods bought from the local antique shop. Old man Bruce has quite a collection. He stings when it comes to price though. Thanks to Enzoe's well-paying career, he was able to pull off multiple antique goods and adorn the new two-storeyed house he got after one specific task. "Got" is quite the wrong word because Enzoe sort of earned it. A woman, dressed in a brown overcoat, stands in front of an apartment, police, and detectives roaming behind her every once in a while. She looks profound, guess something 'not very graceful' has happened after all. Ryle decides to increase the volume to hear her words thoroughly.

"As you can see, this is Mr. Benedict Lewis's apartment. We are standing outside a very dangerous murder scene. Mr. Lewis was killed two days ago, on Thursday, August 22th, at approximately 3 p.m. His body was found two days later, today at 10 a.m. in the morning. The neighbors complained that the apartment had been emitting a very rotten smell for the past two days. When the neighbors got suspicious about not meeting Mr. Lewis for those two days, they decided to call the police and ask for their assistance. We are standing at the scene where Mr. Lewis was brutally murdered. The police arrived at 9:50 p.m. and found the door of Lewis's apartment unlocked. What lay ahead, shocked them beyond imagination. They found a body that was severed in various parts. The head was bashed open and the brain was missing. The heart, eyes, and kidneys were also missing from the victim's mutilated body. Later it was speculated by the police that those organs were probably separated and stolen by the murderer. However, no footprints or fingerprints were found at the scene. Carl Lewis, the brother of Benedict Lewis, rushed to the scene and demanded a thorough investigation. The police also speculate that .….."

Enzoe turned off the TV, getting bored. "Like they are ever going to find the murderer. This town's law system is nothing like the main state after all", he thought quietly as a smile broke out from the corner of his chapped lips. Enzoe thinks about the Carl guy. "Poor guy thinking he is going to get justice. Justice is nothing but a beautiful word created by fools. There is no justice in the world. Nothing is good or bad. At the end of the day, everyone is just filling their pockets to the brim. Nobody cares about justice or good. Everyone just hankers after pennies. Such a rotten world!" Enzoe looks at the clock. It's 2:30 p.m.

"Time sure flies by fast. Guess I am going to start getting ready for the job."

Enzoe opens the only coat he wears for this job. A black duffel coat, quite the clothing indeed, for such a shady job. "The stain is still there though, gotta wash it off again after returning", he thinks, staring at the small dark stain from his last job that was two days ago. No matter how many times he'd washed it, it never went away. It shrunk from being a huge stain though. Enzoe puts on the coat and gloves. He also takes the small chemical bottle that he uses to vanish prints from the scenes. He takes the gun which he keeps hidden under the floorboards. He also takes the large chainsaw he bought from a sharp goods' shop a while back, stuff's got good mobility, to be honest. 

Quite useful while prying a body open; actually, it is Enzoe's favorite part of his job. 

Enzoe looks at the clock in a hurry. The hands indicate that it's about to be 3 p.m. He opens the door to head out.

It's time.

[pirateprincessblog]

Killer Eyes

𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫.: when a lowly prisoner's eyes meet the ones of a kind young woman, his heart fills with a will to live again

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: song mingi x fem!reader, ft jeong yunho (not a love interest)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 12.4k

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: smut, angst, prisoner!mingi, prisondoctor!reader, prison theme

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: masturbation, body worshipping, praising, size kink, possessive kink, marking, v-card loss, fingering, squirting, creampie

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: self h*rming, attempted s*icide, bullying, violence, swearing, r*pe mentions, unprotected sex

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: oh how i love angst and cliffhangers. also, the reader is not actually pictured as someone tiny or small, it's just the way mingi views her because of her kind nature.

check out sequel HERE

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐨𝐟 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐲.

it wasn't fair how slow the sun and the moon chased each other. how slow the shadows of the cold metal bars moved on the dusty floor. perhaps it was on purpose. perhaps it was their way of making fun of him. as if they knew just how long he was going to be a cuffed man, and they decided to make it just a little longer.

song mingi sat on his bed. the mattress was heavy from dust, dead skin cells and sweat. it smelled horrible, and whenever mingi would get the privilege of taking a shower, he would rather sleep on the floor, so he can feel cleaner. the floor was swept regularly, yet the smelly old mattress stayed the same.

mingi stared at a can of coke a fellow prisoner had smuggled him. it was empty, the sweet burning of the beverage running down his throat and getting rid of the summer heat for a while. now, his attention was on the cap. he has removed it, the small item ripping a part of the can and leaving it very sharp and dangerous. he played with it, spinning it between his fingers. little by little, he worked up the courage.

he brought the cap to his wrist, the metal cutting in like a knife in soft butter. he yanks it, ripping his skin apart and dripping red liquid down his hand and into his palm. he shook, watching the beads stain the floor. another one, then another one. tears roll down his cheeks, mixing with sweat and dust.

"fuck!" he yells, standing up and banging his head on the wall.

nobody understood. nobody knew what he knew. everybody held him accountable, but nobody knew why he did what he did. as if it was easy to have his hands stained with someone's blood, to have his sister stare at him with horror, to have his body dragged over the floor all the way to the police car, tears and blood dripping down his face. none of it was easy, but if he found himself in that situation again, he would do the same. it was the only way to save her.

loud thuds echoed in the room, startling the man and making him crawl to the corner. he sat, knees firmly pressed against his chest, and body shaking as he sobbed. the knocking on the door doesn't stop, and neither does the blood pooling on the ground.

"do i really need to come in today? you didn't have enough yesterday?"

at the mention of yesterday, mingi clenched his back. the cuts and bruises are still open, untreated, and probably infected. he spent the night pressed against the cold wall, in hopes to help relieve the pain.

the thumping stops, and mingi hears rattling, multiple keys turning, then finally, a familiar creak of the door opening. freshly polished black boots step into the dusty room. mingi has nightmares about those very same boots.

"stand up."

the man on the floor stills, sobs stopping for a moment. he comes to a realisation. yesterday's torture was going to happen again. and today, it might be the end of him.

"what are you, fucking deaf? stand up!" his voice roars, bouncing off the walls and travelling to mingi's already sensitive ears.

he sits still, vision blurry with upcoming tears. the boots take a few steps towards the man, stopping right before him. the guard sighs, then turns around. just when mingi wanted to sigh in relief, the boots are headed his way again, this time one of them aimed for his face. the pointy part of it hits mingi in the jaw, throwing his head against the wall.

"fucking rapist, murderer, manipulator, playing victim games with me?!" with each word, the guard proceeded to kick, punch and slap the man, taking great satisfaction in seeing blood drip down his face.

he pulls his hair, dragging his body across the dusty floor, until he is near the bed. the guard positions the man on his knees, back turned towards him, and head buried in the mattress.

"stop, stop!" mingi begs, gripping at the bed sheets stained with fresh blood and tears.

the fabric is ripped from mingi's body, exposing his massacred body to the one that massacred it. a finger trails down his spine, then suddenly, goes a different path. a deep scream leaves mingi's throat, his nails and teeth ripping the sheets apart, as the guard's finger dips into his wound, picking at it.

"stop, stop, stop!" he groans, mouth foaming from anger and pain.

"excuse me, what is going on here?"

a gasp, a cracking sound, and a scream later, mingi finally gets a second of peace. his teeth let go of the sheets, face relaxing into the somewhat soft surface.

"oh, doctor, please. don't you worry about it."

"that man needs help!"

"this man has his assigned doctor. besides, a newbie like you cannot handle a psychopath like him. you're better off with thieves."

"help"

his voice comes out raspy, tired and painful. he hoped that the person at the door would show mercy, and do as little as distract the guard for a while.

"i'm calling help, mr barnes."

"you do that and i'll smash your head right between this iron door and this stone wall."

mingi's vision is dark, his body collapsing from weakness. he lets go of the sheets, falling on his back and taking in his surroundings one more time. when his eyes land on the figure whose voice he heard today for the first time in his life, he is glad that you're the last thing he sees.

you're furious. you can't believe what this place has allowed to happen. judging by all of those wounds, this isn't the first time. and something tells you it won't be the last one either.

you are told to not sympathize with prisoners, they'll use you as a way out of this place. but how can you not sympathize, seeing the poor man covered in blood and scars, suffering new ones right in front of you? has anyone cleaned those wounds? washed up the blood from his body? assured him that it won't happen again? then did something to make it not happen again?

"i want a patient change."

"prisoner change, you mean?" the supervisor doesn't lift his eyes from the scattered papers on his desk.

"he's a human before everything, sir."

the man throws the pile of papers on his desk, letting out an exhausted huff. you're amazing at what you do, that he knows. but he also knows just how stubborn you are. and he has no patience to compete with you today.

"him being a human doesn't excuse the reasons why he's here, no?"

"i'm just a doctor–"

"–s assistant, yes." he finishes, giving you a tight smile. he stands up, his hands finding comfort in the pockets of the perfectly ironed suit pants. he stops right before you, looking at you as if you're not close to evaporating from anger right there in front of him. "mind your business, love. otherwise, you'll become a marionette in the hands of those criminals. inhumans."

"i am but just a doc–" you try again. a finger finds its way on your lips, catching you off guard and shutting you down.

"then act like it."

he turns on his heel, and in a short moment, he is back in his seat.

"jeong yunho!" your voice betrays you, and you immediately cover your mouth.

at the mention of his full name, he drops the papers once again. the chair falls back when he stands up again, this time marching towards you with a look that you know means trouble. he has you pressed against the wall, body hovering just a little above the ground. he is shaking, the angry veins on his neck popping and warning you to be quiet.

"sister dear, please, follow my instructions so you don't get yourself killed." he says through his teeth. you cough, your hands desperately trying to move his from your neck. "i don't want you to get involved with that part of this building. understood?"

you struggle to answer, so you opt for head nodding. his grip gets stronger, and you gasp, head falling back in hopes to get some sweet oxygen.

"understood?!"

"yes, yes–"

your body hits the floor, and stays there as you try to breathe normally. you're all red and sweaty, hair sticking to your face and your throat feeling as if you fell on needles with it.

"you," you breathe out, glaring at him from the floor," you absolute asshole."

"no matter the blood relation, i am still your supervisor. you take orders from me, and me only. you don't do reckless things, like playing an empath and falling right into the killers hands."

"i just want to help him heal physically. that's all."

"no need. he deserves everything he gets." he is firm with his decision, truly believing that a prison is a place of suffering, not healing and learning of a better life. "if i hear about you stepping foot into the H section, i will personally chain you up right next to him and make you watch."

"you're–" you start, tears spilling down your cheeks from defeat.

"a monster, yeah. very original. talk to me when you come up with a better one." he finishes for you, then sits at his desk again.

you stand still, hoping he might somehow change his mind. but how hopeful can you be, when he just choked you seconds ago? he looks up at you, making you twitch at the sudden eye-contact.

"dismissed."

days pass awfully slow, with you spending them in your office, buried in papers. you are holding a file. one that you borrowed from jeong yunho himself. the printer finally made a sound, letting you know that it is still alive and capable of the task you gave it.

a few duplicates land on your desk, and you swallow. the soft brown eyes look at you from a small picture, and it takes you back to the day you found him gripping the sheets and screaming in pain. your chest feels tight, and you feel the tears gather in your eyes again.

what could he have possibly done to end up in the H section? isolated from everyone except two guards, his doctor, and yunho. no proper food, no normal conversations, no clean water. just four stone cold walls, a dusty floor, and a probably bedbug infested mattress.

you return the file, making sure to position it right as you found it. you return to your desk, and breathe out. in the mugshot you have printed out, a bigger format than in the file, he has dried blood on his face, lots of bruises, and a cut on his lip and cheekbone.

your fingers brush over his lips, admiring the shape and volume. if only you could brush an alcohol dipped cotton ball over it, to clean his cut and feel him under your fingertips. the people of this building intrigue you. especially those who have done heavy crimes and believe they did the right thing. they have their own twisted belief of what's morally wrong and what is not. but this person is something that is reaching deep parts of your brain. it might be that you're only feeling sorry for the way he is treated, but either way, you want to know more.

your eyes look into his. a deep brown, anger evident in his gaze. in that moment, he also believed he did the right thing. maybe he believed now too, that's why he is being punished the way he is. this man might just be the most gorgeous one in this building, but if the guards and yunho keep it up this way, his pretty face will soon be butchered. you let out a huff, then proceed onto the next paper.

PRISONER INFO

name: mingi song

record id: ##############

nationality: korean 

gender: male

citizen: yes

eye colour: brown

hair colour: brown

dob: 09081999

age: 24

height: 183 cm

weight: 75 kg

ARREST & SENTENCING INFO

date: 25122022

charge: kidnapping, assault, voluntary manslaughter, domestic violence

summary: song mingi breaks into the song residence on christmas day, assaulting the partner of his sibling, in the process hurting the sibling and his mother. proceeds to lock himself in a house, threatening to commit suicide and dragging the victim with him. upon hearing the gunshot, the forces run in to find the victim laying with a hole in his chest, and song mingi with a gun in his hand. later on, the mother admits to domestic abuse going on at home, coming from song mingi himself.

you cannot believe your eyes. something smells funny in that paragraph, and you think you have just found yourself a new hobby.

the phone rings, startling you and making you drop the papers into a drawer. you clear your throat, then glance at the clock. it's been two hours since you started your mission, and during that time, you've done a lot of worrying and thinking. lots of it. so much, that you think they'll see the files through the phone. that's why you lock the drawer, before you swallow and pick it up.

"jeong office."

"i'll need you to cover for me today."

"doctor?"

"just do the hospital visits; draw some random check marks, and tell them to rest. do not interact with them more than necessary. i have someone else that needs taken care of."

it's like an early birthday present. to cover her means getting her chip. and to get her chip, means entering the H section. you are smiling, your gaze fixed on the locked drawer.

"hey." her voice is firm. she knows you're up to no good. "no funny business. i very much hate cleaning your messes."

"i grew out of it." you assure, opening the drawer and getting the picture out. you look at his eyes one more time. "nothing funny this time, promise."

"they aren't your level patients, but they're all cuffed, so no worries, doc." the kind guard assures, before opening the door for you.

you are in one of your usual institution uniforms, not the actual doctors one. if anything, your brother had a fashion sense. he demanded colour, and each outfit had to be approved by him before anyone could wear it. your heels click over the freshly mopped marble floor, the hot pink matching with the blouse and the lipstick. your white pants already had a small chocolate stain, which you so cleverly covered up with the silk bow from your new promotion bag. your freedom with outfits makes you feel powerful. as if you're working for a fashion or marketing company, not your brother's prison.

you hold the files tight in your hand, scanning the room in front of you. beds are lined up on each side, every single person cuffed to it. they are all in critical condition; from heart and lung diseases, to broken ribs and sewn faces.

"good morning." you try with a smile, and immediately regret.

they are all loud, trying to stand up and reach out towards you. you're lucky they're in bad shape and have elijah next to you, otherwise, you'd be dead meat by now.

"sit on my face, doc. guaranteed i'll feel better."

"no, sit on mine!"

"i'd rather her sit between my legs."

"i'd rather sit between her legs! ha!"

you're feeling dizzy and sick. they're not like your thieves and fighters from A section. these are real criminals. those who have killed, and will kill again if given the chance. you look back at the doors, making sure the guard is still there. the kind man nods towards you, as a way of assuring you that he will protect you if anything happens.

you do exactly as you were told; draw random check marks, tell them they'll get well soon, and move on. you try to ignore the awful sexual comments directed at you, but each one makes your stomach twist, and you can't wait to get out of here. you are ready to do so, when the guard comes to you.

"come here." he guides you to a door at the end of the room, entering first.

"what is it, elijah?"

the big man turns on the light, and carefully lets you in. your breath stops at the sight.

"he usually gets a detailed checkup, his state isn't the best. i went into his room at least five times today, he hasn't moved an inch. i know, i know, he's dangerous. just... i want to know he's okay."

and with that, he closes the door, leaving you alone in the room with one bed. a man lays there, a man whose face is now familiar in your eyes.

"song mingi." you whisper to yourself.

he is breathing through a mask, thin tubes connecting him to multiple devices. you sit in the chair next to his bed, and pull out a fresh white paper. the clock is ticking loudly on the wall, making it hard for you to focus on not doing anything stupid. he's there, completely exposed and vulnerable to you. and so fucking beautiful. even with the ugly mask on.

"i'm here to do a quick checkup on you instead of dr rachel maslow. i won't stay long, i know i'm disturbing you."

he doesn't move an inch. you gulp, then glance at the tubes connected to his arm. stupidly, you reach out to take his arm in your lap. you notice cuts, old and fresh ones. untreated. your thumb grazes over one, making him jolt and grab your wrist.

"fuck!" you jump, but his grip is strong, and holds your body in place.

you try to squeeze out, nails subconsciously digging into his wounds, trying to defend yourself, but only making it worse.

"let go of me," you beg, "you're hurting me!"

you gasp when he pulls you hard, your body falling over his. you're face to face with him, eyes looking deep into yours.

"imagine how it hurts me."

you gulp. you let go of his arm, hand slowly creeping into your pocket. he doesn't release your wrist, grip so strong it makes your skin lose colour.

"can you make my pain stop, doctor?"

"i'll do my best if you let go, mr song."

"the source of my pain, doctor. please."

your hand stops in your pocket. the injection is in your hand, ready to be used. and he seems clueless, or he knows, he is just used to it.

"you want me to find a way to stop the guard?"

"guard, doctor maslow, jeong yunho, everyone."

you stare in silence, words ringing inside your head. tears have become a regular visitor since you've started working for your brother, but it's always uncomfortable when they announce their arrival. your voice is stuck in your throat, and seeing the man so vulnerable at your fingertips, makes you want to take him into your arms and assure him that you'll protect him. the sun rays fall on him, brown eyes turning into gold pools of honey. he stares at you, eyelids half closed, and grip falling loose. you drop the injection in your pocket, body inching closer to him. an invisible force pulls you, but to tell the truth, you don't fight it. you help it, hand reaching to move the hair out of his eyes.

he exhales, eyes falling shut. you carefully monitor his body language, suddenly aware that you are in the presence of a prisoner after all. you almost choke on your spit, when you see a tear escape his closed eye and roll down his cheek.

"mr song?"

"god, that's the first time i didn't get hit for speaking."

he laughs, tears creating streams down his colorless skin. tears of joy, you guess. he is now staring at the white ceiling, laughing like crazy, an occasional sniff interrupting him. his eyes lock with yours, causing you to twitch at the sudden emotion change. his lip twitches, tears of sadness replacing the ones of joy. your heart breaks at his state, but there's only so much you can do right now, and that is to sit and listen to his side of the story. the justice is in yunho's hands. in wrong hands. maybe better. if it were in yours, you'd set everyone free.

"i forgot what it feels like to be a human. it's been years."

"i'm sorry." you say, aware that yunho has forbidden you to use those words with prisoners.

at this point, you are doing everything that he has forbidden you. talking to patients that do not belong to you, entering places you're not supposed to, physical contact with someone from a restricted section, stealing his files, and whatnot. mingi has taken comfort in keeping your wrist secure in his hand, and is breathing normally again.

"i'm not asking to get out of here. all i ask is to be treated like a human. why is a child molester better treated than someone who just wanted to protect his family?"

"because the world is a rotten place, mr song."

"mingi," he exhales.

"i'm not supposed to-"

"please."

you gulp. one of the rules is also to not get comfortable around them and have them call you by your first name, or call them by their first name. but how can you decline such a polite request?

"okay, mingi."

his name rolls off your tongue like it was made up to fit you. his lips twitch in a weak smile, and his grip on your wrist loosens.

"is there... a chance that i could have you as my doctor?" he asks.

"i don't think so. dr maslow is quite persistent when it comes to, well-"

"dangerous criminals, yeah. i figured."

he exhales, defeated. you want it, you really do. but going against your colleague means going against yunho too, and you do not have the energy for that. not yet.

"but i will do my best to somehow ease the situation for you. maybe move you to another cell?"

"i think the bed bugs will evolve into a new type of dinosaur before i get a new cell. i am fine with it, really. i don't need anything materialistic. only a meal and proper healthcare. that's all i ask."

your heart feels heavy. it really is cruel how child molesters and cold blooded serial killers and rapists are treated better. the place is a sinking hole, and you alone cannot change anything. it is only a matter of time when someone dies from all this cruelty going on. knowing your brother, he could easily cover it up. now that you think about it, it could've already happened, and you know nothing about it. that's how immoral this place is.

"i will do my best to provide that." you assure him, then try freeing your hand from his.

he tenses up, immediately grabbing you back and opening his eyes to look at you, pure fear transforming his face.

"mingi, you will have to let me go."

"just a bit more, please."

"i'm sorry, i can't. if i'm not back in the office in the next fifteen minutes, this might be the last time you see me. just let me do a quick check-up and then you can continue your rest."

the man immediately lets go of your hand, laying still in the bed. you take the time to check his tubes, and write up a quick description of the state he is in.

"lift your shirt up for me, please?"

he does it, wincing in pain as he moves his arms. sore muscles, you conclude. no visible bruises or cuts other than the cuts below his elbow. your eyes scan his torso, and you sigh with disappointment when you examine it closely. he is poorly wrapped up in bandages, blood seeping through it and onto the shirt and thin blanket he was covered with.

you stand up, rolling his shirt up further. his body emits warmth and caresses your fingers as you work on him, making you slightly flushed. even though his state is awful, you cannot help your own feelings. he is a gorgeous man, with the warmest eyes you've ever seen in your life. and right now, you are about to touch his bare skin. it is only normal for the swarm of butterflies to act this way in your stomach.

you start unwrapping his bandage, and he hisses under your touch.

"you'll have to sit up for me. can you do that?"

"i think so." he says, voice raspy from pain.

he sits up, and holds his shirt up so you can work easier on him.

"good job," you say, smiling at him as encouragement.

he smiles back, his eyes forming crescent moons. he almost doesn't feel the pain anymore, his whole focus shifting on the way your hair falls over your eyes as you remove the stained bandages. he can almost feel your kindness wrap him in a big warm hug, and he wishes the feeling stays there forever.

"you're pretty." he blurts out.

"huh?" you say, not sure if you heard him right.

"nothing." he says, cheeks red with embarrassment.

"i thought you said something about me being ugly?" you poke, a playful smile on your lips.

"no, no! you're very pretty, that's what i said." he repeats himself, cheeks so warm he looks feverish.

"thank you, mingi. you're very sweet."

you finally take a good look at his wound. two open lines decorate his torso, remains of dried blood splattered around them.

"oh, god. what is this?"

"that would be a belt." he says, as if it the most normal thing in the world.

"a belt?!"

"a high quality one, too. managed to break my skin. it doesn't do that usually."

"usually," you repeat, scoffing in disbelief.

you are utterly disgusted by everyone at this point. the guards, the doctor, other prisoners, your brother. you are sick and tired. no man deserves this.

"and what about this? does this hurt-?"

"ow!" he jumps in the bed, body running away from your touch.

your fingers retread from his body. the area on his rib cage is slightly deformed and bruised, and judging by the intense reaction made from a light touch, it could mean a broken bone.

"i'll write you down for an x-ray, okay? this doesn't look good."

"x-ray? what could it be?"

"probably a fractured bone. i'll get you fixed, don't worry."

he seems very nervous, eyes big with concern and curiosity as he tries to read what you are scribbling down on your notes. you check the time, and when you realize that you have stayed here longer than you should've, you hurriedly stand up, collecting your things.

"so, uh..." he trails, hands still holding his shirt.

"oh, god, i'm so sorry. right."

your fingers tremble as you search the room for new bandages and wiping alcohol. you are very late, and considering that both yunho and rachel know where you've gone, they could barge here any second now. and mingi will be at fault again. there is no time for you to be as gentle as you wanted to be with him. your heart feels heavy each time you swipe the cotton on his skin and you hear him hiss and flex under your touch. you are nearly done, all that's left is to put fresh bandages on him and check his tubes before taking a few more notes and leaving.

"are you eating properly?"

he chuckles, but not the funny chuckle. the tired, sarcastic chuckle.

"sorry. i forgot that your section is..."

"a shithole, yeah. i eat four to five spoons of lentils, and two cups of water a day. three if i've been good. which is confusing, i always try to be good. he just-" mingi stops, biting his lip.

he has said too much already. he doesn't want to bother you. after all, you are here just to do your own job. not save him.

"just what?" you ask, curiosity overshadowing the fear from your brother.

"nothing."

"you can tell me." you push.

the man stays silent, eyes fixed on the ceiling. he isn't showing any intention of answering your question, or speaking further. he has exposed himself too much, and now you can sense him pulling his walls up.

"mingi..." you start, trying to tell him that you understand and won't push him harder. but he doesn't let you finish.

"i said nothing! get out!" he yells, making you jump from the chair.

his eyes are wide, bloodshot. they are glossy, and you realize that he wants you out of the room before he breaks down. he doesn't want to cry in front of you again.

"i'll be back for that x-ray. i'll also try to get you proper food so you can heal."

you see remorse on his face, but he doesn't say anything. he is overwhelmed with emotions. he feels sadness, anger, and sudden comfort coming from a new person. it is a rollercoaster of emotions, and he doesn't know how to navigate it. it is best to leave him be before he explodes.

"take care." you give him a smile, and finally leave for your office.

a week later, song mingi exits the x-ray room. he is disappointed, his eyes not able to find your face behind the glass among the doctors. maybe you were there, but hid from him. after all, he did yell at you last time he saw you. he couldn't help it. he was scared of anyone and anything at this point, no matter how tough he tried to act. song mingi is just a flower who has surrounded himself with a walnut shell.

the man furrows his eyebrows, seeing that the guards are guiding him to a lower level of the building. then, when he musters up enough courage to ask where they're taking him, the words stop in his throat as his eyes fall on your figure. he smiles, so wide that his cheeks hurt. you smile back, and as you approach him, he is reminded just how beautiful you are.

"good morning, mingi."

he hated his name. it was screamed and drenched in pain and sorrow many times before he ended up here. you saying it, it felt like the name was just given to him. like he had no awful history behind it.

"answer when someone talks to you." the guard hits the back of his head, and the smile disappears off his lips.

"good morn–"

slap. 

mingi looks up, terrified. he looks over at the guard who hit him, only to find him holding his cheek and looking down at your shoes.

"do not, ever, and I mean ever, do that again. did I make myself clear?"

the guard nods, gaze still fixed down.

"did I make myself clear?!"

"yes, yes! perfectly clear."

mingi is mesmerized by your sudden surge of confidence. he saw you as an innocent young woman, gentle and quiet. this, however, didn't shut down the growing interest he has for you. in fact, his heart beat just a bit faster when his eyes met yours. the transition from tough to soft gaze when you finally looked at him had him blushing hard.

"you feeling alright?" you tilt your head slightly, trying to properly look at him.

his head still hangs a little low, too afraid to cross a boundary with his staring and overly friendly smiles. he nods, then slightly bows his head as a thank you.

"that's good to hear. I managed to get you a better cell for your recovery. if you continue being a good boy, they'll let you stay."

you say it playfully, but mingi is ashamed by the twitch in his pants once the words leave your mouth.

a good boy.

he'll be the goodest boy ever for you. just to see you proud of him. after all, it is your work reflecting on him. he will help you leave a good impression in this hellhole. and, if he's lucky, he'll keep you as his doctor.

"right, then. I'll come and visit soon, I hope. take care. and take your medications!"

he nods again, suddenly unable to speak. he wanted to say so much. he wanted to drop on his knees and thank you. he wanted to feel your hands on his face again. but he soon realises just how unprofessional that is. he would rather only secretly glance at your figure one more time, before the guards drag him to his new home.

he is thrown on the floor, the humiliated guard landing kicks all over his freshly bandaged torso. blood seeps through them again, staining the new prisoner uniform you have gotten him.

"piece of shit, that's what you are. no fucking dinner for you, you pig."

but mingi did not care. he stayed on the floor, not bothering to check out the new cell he was given. he only stared as the heavy doors shut, listening to multiple locks turning, before he smiled to himself like a crazy man.

you looked stunning in your blouse. purple is your colour, he concludes.

in the morning, mingi finds himself laying on a soft surface. he opens one of his eyes, the light too strong for him to handle. he sits up, rubbing his eyes, before feeling discomfort in his lower body. he looks down, and soon enough discovers why it feels that way. his crotch is a sticky mess, and it feels hot.

he wonders how that happened. he fell asleep from exhaustion and pain last night, on the floor. he knows he didn't jerk off. and he knows for sure he didn't willingly climb on the bed. now, he either came in his sleep on the floor and humiliated himself when someone transferred him, or he came peacefully in the bed after the transfer. either way, his brain works hard to figure out the reason of the relief.

he barely manages to glance around the room, taking in all the sunlight, before the doors open. then, as soon as you walk in, he is reminded how the mess spawned in his underwear and all over his pants.

your sighs against his ear, your skin under his fingertips, your warm walls swallowing his hard cock. that's why he didn't hear the three knocks for breakfast in the morning. and that's why he didn't feel the transfer to the bed. all because he was having wettest dreams about you.

his jaw is slightly hanging, seeing you approach him so cheerfully. you are wearing a dress, past the knees length, with long flowy sleeves. he spends a few seconds memorizing every curve of your body, so he can inappropriately think about you after you leave. you are lovely, kindness embodied, and as pretty as the first cherry blossom in spring. mingi wishes he could keep you in his cell, just so that he can look at you and feel safe.

he lowers his gaze, scared that you might see in his eyes exactly what he is thinking about. but you grab a chair, and sit in front of him. your finger find a spot under his chin, gently guiding him so that he can look at you.

"you're not supposed to-" the guard steps forward, in case mingi tries something.

"shut the hell up."

the man on the bed had to fight the urge to laugh in the guard's face. he loves your fierce side. as long as he doesn't get on it, it's hot. way too soon, your hand leaves mingi's face. you flip through your notebook, scribbling something down.

"that lip cut looks new." you comment.

"uh, yes." he confirms, scratching his neck.

"cole?"

"yes, doctor?" the short male answers.

"you don't happen to know where mr song got that cut, do you?"

"no, doctor." the guard lies easily to your face.

"okay."

mingi doesn't say anything, in fear of you more than the man behind you. but you only give him a sweet smile, before writing into your notebook again. the pen glides so smoothly on the paper, and maybe he was just smitten, but mingi swore that he never saw such pretty handwriting.

"here's your medication."

you hold out a singular blue pill, waiting for him to take it. he does, unsurely popping it into his mouth, and then takes the water bottle that stood untouched on his nightstand. your intense gaze makes him accidentally spill it all over his t-shirt, and before he can start apologizing, you take the bottle and close it for him.

"good job. you'll heal in no time." you encourage, then hand him a towel.

"thank you." he finally says something without mumbling or stuttering.

"no, no. thank you, for being cooperative and not giving me headaches. like some people." you look over at the moody guard.

the young prisoner smiles, knowing that it will probably earn him a kick or two as soon as you leave. you stand up, closing your notebook.

"get him new pants." you casually comment, and mingi immediately feels his ears heat up from embarrasment.

"i'm so sorry-" he apologizes, again and again, until your hand finds its place on his to stop them from flapping around while explaining.

"stop apologizing for everything. and i better see you in the canteen for lunch soon. got it?" you playfully demand.

"canteen?"

"yes. i worked something out and got you access to the canteen. you can't heal from lentils only."

and with another smile, you are gone.

canteen. he hasn't seen that place for years now. he barely remembers the taste of real meat and potatoes. but he vividly remembers the cold silver tables and stools. the very tables where he got thrown on and beat lots of times, by both guards and prisoners. all because he didn't want to share his bread or give away the little earning of the day he had made. eventually, they stopped letting him into the canteen, simply because his presence alone would cause chaos. he was everybody's punching bag, and as much as he cried of hunger at nights, he would rather stay in the safety of the four walls. well, partial safety. one bully is still better than twenty.

the next few weeks, you visit him often. to give him the blue pill, hype him up, and treat to his wounds. he has healed nicely, and you are proud of him. he is mostly silent, except when he thanks you or apologizes to you. he still doesn't have enough courage to leave the cell to get himself food, so he settles for lentils for two more weeks. until you've had enough, and scold him.

"your progress is going awfully slow, and you're making it harder for me. please go eat something."

"okay," he finally agrees.

he doesn't get to know about you much. you are there only for a few minutes a day, but even that is better than nothing. he gets to stare at you as you write into your notebook, and each night when his hand travels down his pants, his image of you is more and more vivid.

with new fresh pants and a t-shirt, song mingi finally walks up to the canteen doors. he sees so many people, ones he has known, and ones he will get to know. the loneliness is slowly vanishing, but the anxiety is just announcing its arrival. mingi is swallowed by fear. he doesn't want to let you down, but what will he do if someone decides to test him? will he have enough self control?

"you're not getting married, you're just getting food. get in." he is pushed through the doors.

the smell of fried chicken and soup fills his nostrils, and his stomach grumbles in anticipation. his legs carry him to the waiting line, hands already grabbing an empty tray. he blends in so easily, like he was here every day. he announces his order to the kind lady that has always liked him and given him the best piece of meat, feeling fully confident in himself. the lady smiles widely at him, and mingi is happy knowing that he has two people caring about him.

he takes a seat in the empty corner by himself, eyeing the warm soup. finally, he dives in. the liquid drips down his chin as he eats like a starved man, the chicken flavour melting on his tongue. he is lost in the joy of eating, he almost doesn't notice a hand grabbing the chocolate muffin off his tray. but he does, dropping the spoon in the already empty bowl.

"well, well. lookie here."

three men surround his table, each sending him smirks and glares. mingi isn't scared of them anymore. he won't give them a reason to be a threat. for you.

"oh, sorry, were you gonna eat that?" the bald one speaks with a stuffed mouth. chocolate bits fall on the table, making mingi grimace in disgust.

"no, you can have it." he simply says, then moves on to his fried chicken.

"oh?" the men look at each other, surprised by how calm he is. three years ago he would've gone feral on all of them, giving the whole canteen a reason to start a chaos. all for a piece of pork.

"did you want my juice too?" the young man holds the little box of apple juice out for one of them to take.

they're all puzzled. just what was happening in section H that made mingi calm down like this? or was this his new strategy? what exactly was in that apple juice?

"cut the shit, asshole. let's relive some memories, shall we?" the taller one grabs mingi by his collar, dragging him up so that he stands.

"i'd rather not. not in the mood. another day maybe?"

"oh, another day? so you're back for a longer period, huh?"

"hope so." he genuinely says, looking around the place.

"aren't you a dove. almost makes me feel sorry for what i'm about to do to that pretty face."

the third man suddenly starts tapping their shoulders, looking behind at the doors opening. mingi is dropped on his stool, all forgotten. the three men don't move away from his table yet, but their attention remains on the people that have just walked in. and when mingi finally sees it too, his mind and heart have a very difficult time.

jeong yunho, dr rachel maslow, and you, walking peacefully to the end of the line, each grabbing a tray.

"i thought they had their own fancy ass canteen?"

"they do. i don't know what the fuck kinda experiment this is, but i'm not liking it."

"i don't know about you, but i'm liking the view of the chick."

"you think if we kill that asshole that we can escape? i mean, he's right there."

"nah, he's invincible. remember that guy who tried to stab him with scissors? the bastard survived even that. i heard he keeps the scissors framed in his office."

mingi eavesdrops further, in hopes of getting information he can forward to you. but his ears pick up something that itched a certain part of his brain. a click, which set his old self free.

"maybe see how useful his sissy is and serve him her head when we're done with her?"

"i'd rather her give me a head."

"i heard she's a virgin."

"aw, i get to be her first and last!"

mingi sees red. his hand grips the empty soup bowl, and his teeth are biting the insides of his cheeks. he looks at you as you get your own food, walking with such elegance that every woman on the planet should envy you. and then, he sees you naked, scared, in the hands of these awful men. he sees your big, scared eyes looking up at him and silently begging for help, while the laughter of the three men rings in his ears.

one thought leads to another, and mingi does exactly what earned him the section H. he loses himself to his overthinking and rage. his hand smashes the bowl on the head of the bald man, his other hand soon grabbing his throat. 

"i'll keep her safe," the young prisoner mutters, looking into the man's eyes as he fails to beg for mercy.

mingi's fingers dig into his neck, as if trying to rip his throat out. he feels punches on his shoulders and back, and when the man in his hands finally collapses, he turns around. he lands a punch into one's nose, sending him back a few steps. he turns towards the third one, the one who made a comment about being your first and last.

"i'll keep her safe," he repeats, this time louder. he marches at the man, biting into his throat and ripping out a chunk of meat. red liquid drips down mingi's chin, but he isn't bothered. his fingers dig into the scrunched body, holding it in place so that it doesn't run from the death grip that is song mingi.

"what the fuck?!"

"oh my god!"

"who let him in here?"

"run!"

"get dr rachel!"

his ears are ringing, and his vision blurs. but he still doesn't stop, not until life fades from the men's eyes and they lay on the floor, painting the floor red. he isn't sure how long he stays there kicking their bodies, smashing their limbs and ribs, until a pair of hands grab him by his shoulders.

he kneels down by force, the brand new uniform drenched in the blood he spilled. your face appears in his frame, and he sees that you are kneeling, just like him. you are speaking, but he doesn't hear a thing. only the distant echo of their laugh, and your silent pleas for help. he looks down on the floor, and feels terrible guilt when he sees that your dress is  slowly turning red.

"safe..." he whispers.

jeong yunho holds the man in place, while dr rachel fidgets with something in her hands. you send him a confused look, not knowing what the word safe means in this situation. you want to help him, you truly do. but he makes it very difficult.

"i'll keep you safe," he says again, more to himself than you.

"safe from what, mingi?"

"i'll keep you safe."

his body loses strength under yunho, dr rachel already pulling an empty injection from his arm. he is dizzy, but his eyes don't leave yours. he uses his last ounces of strength to smile at you, before collapsing.

"see what he's capable of? you still want to go play good doctor with him?"

dr rachel scoffs, throwing the injection in the trash bin. yunho doesn't speak. he walks around his desk, hands behind his back. he is probably thinking of ways to punish you. but you couldn't care less about what happens to you. you need to know that mingi is alright before everything. then, you need to know what caused the outburst.

"this isn't a fanfiction, you can't change him. he's locked in section H for a reason, and you stay away from those sections for a reason. i do not want you near him again."

"that isn't your call to make." you spit at her, then look over at yunho with anticipation.

"mr jeong?" she searches for support.

but he remains silent.

"so what? you granted him access to the canteen, then brought me there just so i could witness him going feral? you planned it all?"

"shut up."

"you sent those men at him, didn't you? you wanted to create a problem..."

"shut up."

"...so that mingi acts up. and when he does, rachel will prove that i am not capable..."

"shut up."

"...of taking care of such high level criminals, and you'll go back to your bullying ways again uninterrupted. is that what-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!"

yunho throws the lamp from his desk right at the wall beside your head.

"fuck!" he kicks the little coffee table in front of his desk, flipping it and spilling the cold coffees all over the carpet. "fuck, fuck, fuck!"

tears stream down your face from fear. each time you see him recently, he has less control. it isn't your brother anymore. it's just mr jeong.

"i will say this one more time, and if you bring me into a situation where i have to repeat myself, i swear to god, i will fry his brains in front of you. you'll see him on that electric chair every time you close your eyes, and you'll hear his screams every time you go to sleep at night. i will make the experience so traumatic and gruesome for you that you will need not two, not three, but ten fucking psychiatrists to heal you! you will stay the fuck away from him, stay the fuck away from my files, my prisoners, my business, and my way of doing things! if i see you, no, if i even hear possible rumors that might not even be true, that you stepped foot - not in the cell, but in the section - i will personally serve you his long suffering and death. and i'll enjoy every second of it. have i made myself clear?"

your jaw hangs low, blood running cold in your veins. pure venom drips from yunho's lips, and it makes your stomach sick. you feel like throwing up. he turns around at your lack of response, marching over to you. you run, squealing. hiding behind the armchair, you shield yourself from the person that possessed your brother.

you nod frantically, trying to swallow the lump of pure fear in your throat.

"i don't want to see your face anymore for today. or tomorrow. get lost."

and you obey, running past him and into the hallway. you struggle to catch your breath as you reach your office, and once you're safe behind the locked doors, you finally let it out. you sob, whimper, fingers reaching into the drawer to pull out his picture. the kind brown eyes look at you from the paper, and it only makes your chest hurt from the upcoming sobs.

"i'm sorry," you say, as if he can hear you.

days turn into weeks, and you are scared to even look at the sign that says section H. dr rachel has her eye on you, and you don't dare disobey. you work with a lifeless expression, mind and heart drained of the will to live. guilt is eating you inside out, and it's killing you that you can't ask anyone about mingi's wellbeing.

you haven't seen yunho since that day. and you don't think you have the strength to. you hate him. you hate what he's done with this place. you hate that a place of rehabilitation has turned into one of torture. and you hate that he's corrupted all the other workers. is it the pay? is it their equally fucked up morals? how can all of them be alright with it?

"doctor?"

you turn around, expecting to be given more news about ill prisoners. the flu is spreading like crazy the past two days. but when you see elijah approaching you, your heart flutters. he is usually unreachable, always roaming the forbidden section.

"how is he?" you ask before thinking.

elijah looks around for you, and when he makes sure that he coast is clear, he lowers his voice.

"not bad, but not good. he is holding on."

"how are his injuries? anything new?"

"barnes is beating the life out of him for every little thing he does. so he decided to go on a strike and just sit in the corner all day and all night. he doesn't eat, barely sleeps, and started harming himself worse than before. he wants to die, doctor."

you feel your heart dropping low in your chest, and it hurts. you wanted to help him, and look what you did.

"don't blame yourself. he did it to himself." as if he knew what you were thinking, elijah interrupts.

"he was talking about... safety? do you have any idea what that might've been?"

"keep you safe, that's what he keeps repeating. apparently, he heard a few guys talk bad about you, planning to do something to you, and he lost it."

"i need to see him."

"no."

"make it happen, please. please, elijah."

"all three of us will lose our heads, doctor."

you feel your cheeks become wet, your vision getting blurry. putting your palms together, you beg. "please. for just a second. and then i'll never ask for him again. never think of him."

elijah exhales. "fine."

at exactly two o'clock in the morning on a sunday, you walk barefoot down the hallways, like a ghost who haunts a castle. successfully avoiding guards, you slip into the H section, scanning elijah's code on the hallway doors and letting yourself in. the heavy door waits for you at the end of the hall, mysterious and inviting. mr barnes is not in his usual position, meaning elijah has found a way to distract him. you had exactly fifteen minutes, and five have already passed.

hurriedly, you scan the code again, then as quiet as possible turn all the locks. your breath stops once you get in, the smell of sweat and blood hitting your nostrils. then, you see him. curled up on the floor, holding his head, knees to his chest. sobbing, fingers pulling his hair, and shivering.

you feel the dusty floor under your bare feet, and wonder if the room ever gets swept. it looks the same as when you first found him. slowly approaching, you try not to startle him. he doesn't know that you are coming, and one wrong move could send you flying into the wall. you saw what he was capable of, like dr rachel said. but you also know he doesn't do it for no reason. treat him like a human, and he will do the same.

"mingi," you call in a whisper.

his sobs quiet down, and shivering stops. he sits up, back still turned towards you. the hallway light poorly illuminates it, open wounds on his skin making your heart sink.

"you shouldn't be here," he says, voice raspy.

"sorry, i- i had to. i had to make sure you're okay."

"well, i'm not."

you don't know how to respond. you can see that he is not, you just don't know how to help. there is no time. so you settle for a simple shoulder touch, which he doesn't reject.

"i know. i'm sorry." silence swallows the room. mingi doesn't move. he doesn't remove your hand from his shoulder either. with a gulp, you continue. "can i see you? please?"

when he doesn't budge, your other hand finds its way on one of his wounds. immediately, you realize your mistake. the man stands up before you get the chance to properly feel his rough skin under your fingertips, grabbing you by your neck and slamming you against the wall. your toes barely touch the ground, and for a split second, you are back in the room with yunho doing the same thing to you. only this time, the man in front of you has a full right to do so. you violated his privacy, and he reacted.

"i'm sorry," you choke out.

you sound pathetic to yourself. apologizing three times under five minutes, and still breaking boundaries.

"i don't want... i don't want to hurt you." his grip softens, and he slowly lets your feet touch the ground. "i want to keep you. i want to- i need to have you."

his voice fades as his gaze falls on your lips. you are unsure what he means, considering that he is still holding your throat, but his gaze is locked on your lips. he gulps, then looks into your eyes intensely, making you subconsciously clench your thighs. you feel a rush in your lower stomach, one that you're not sure you've ever felt.

"can i? please?"

"i'm not sure what you mean, mingi." your voice is a whisper, afraid that if you speak louder you'll spook him away.

"i just- let me put it this way. i want to thank you."

"for what? i've done nothing but cause you trouble."

"i've caused it myself. i did it to myself. you only helped me. you healed me, treated me with kindness, and i'd like to repay."

a sudden creak from the hallway makes both of you jump, and you run into the corner behind the door. mingi follows, putting his hands on the wall beside your head and shielding you with his body. footsteps approach, and almost get to the unlocked but closed doors, then stop.

"barnes! care for a drink?"

"i'm doing checkups. besides, with you, elijah? no thanks."

"come on. now that we work in the same section, how about we bury the axe? besides, i did the checkups already. it was my turn anyway. we should be good for half an hour."

"you paying?"

"sure am."

"then what the fuck we waiting for?"

the footsteps slowly drift away. and you thank elijah for his quick thinking and buying you time. your attention is on mingi again, whose eyes are still fixed on your lips.

"my savior,"  he says, hand gently cupping your jaw and thumb caressing your cheek.

"you're exaggerating. i barely did anything to help you. i got you into bigger troubles than you started with and-"

mingi doesn't hesitate anymore. he leans in, still tilting your jaw so that you're almost at his level, and softly presses his lips into yours. you stand there, wide eyed, still processing what's happening. it isn't until mingi presses his body against you, trapping you between one cold wall and one warm one that you finally relax in his arms. you're not sure what to do, or what to feel. you're being kissed and held by a prisoner, and not just any prisoner. the prisoner that is considered one of the most dangerous ones in the whole building. and you're enjoying it. why else would your stomach feel like hot magma waiting to burst.

sensing your frozen state, mingi pulls away. his other hand rests on your waist, fingers subconsciously drawing patterns over your blouse. "let me thank you, doctor. please."

"i'm not sure i'm familiar with this type of thanking," you admit, your cheeks heating up.

his eyes change, from soft to hard, and you're not sure what to feel. yet again.

"so it's true."

"what is?"

"you're a virgin."

"well... yeah, i mean. yes. does it matter?"

"then, the gratitude i had in mind falls off."

oh. oh.

"you should go back before they return. or before i lose my mind."

"no, wait! we have a little less than thirty minutes, i didn't go through all this trouble just to go back."

the young man lays down in bed, hissing a little when his back makes contact with it, then folds his arms over his chest in protest.

"don't be a brat. i came to see you."

"and you did. i'm fine. now go."

"why are you like this suddenly?" your eyes start burning, tears gathering in the corners and blurring your vision. there's a lump in your throat, and no matter how hard you try, it's hard to swallow it. "you're mean to me, when you yourself said that all i've done is help you. make up your mind, do you hate me, or do you like me? do you want me close, or not? do you-"

"what i want is out of line and question. so the next thing i want is naturally for you to leave." he looks at you, almost glaring, before adding, "please."

"don't make this difficult. tell me, and i promise, i'll leave you alone. you'll never hear from me again."

he lays in silence, eyes closed. as if that will make you leave. instead, it brings out the stubbornness and braveness in you, overshadowing your fears. you know what he wants. you are a virgin, but not stupid. if you weren't sure, the obvious bulge in his pants makes it clear. without much thinking, your fingers start unbuttoning the purple blouse, revealing the black bra underneath. you don't take it off, instead leaving it to hang off your shoulders.

mingi's eyes open when he senses the mattress dipping, then a warm body hovering over him. he feels your warm crotch on his naked torso, your skirt hiked up and your bra exposed.

"i can't."

"why not?"

"i'll hurt you. and i already did that tonight, and i won't do it again."

"maybe i want to be hurt."

"you don't mean that. trust me, you don't mean that."

your hands take his cold ones, guiding them so that they rest on your waist. your body shivers at the cold touch, but you don't remove them. instead, you guide them higher up, until his big hand covers your breast. he gulps under you, afraid to move.

"i'd break you."

you lean in, capturing his lips in a kiss. this time, you are more confident, and allow yourself to swipe your tongue across his plump lips. he responds, biting softly into your bottom lip and tugging it, gently sucking on it and licking it. you shiver in his hands, from pleasure more than from the cold. you finally pull away, a string of saliva connecting your lips in a way so erotic that you haven't seen it in movies even.

"please do." you finally respond, a whisper into his mouth.

"and if you regret it?"

"i'll get over it."

with a swift move, mingi's hand yanks your bra down, freeing your breasts and attaching his lips to your tense nipples. you sigh, fingers reaching for his hair and pushing his head into you. his rough tongue swipes over the sensitive bud, lips sucking, while his finger spins the other one. you shake under his touch, never having been touched this way before except by yourself. it feels more intense when it is someone else, and you are dying for more.

"more, please," you beg, pulling at his hair.

"i'll give you anything you want. just ask, doctor. say it, and i'll give it to you."

"touch me more. i need more."

the dark haired man grabs your waist, and like a doll, easily lays you down on the bed and hovers above you. his strength fascinates you, and turns you on even more. you have the urge to feel his every inch under your fingers, but you aren't sure how he will take it. so you settle for placing your hands on his firm chest, just to see his reaction.

he doesn't say or do anything about it. instead, he plants kisses between your breasts, down your stomach, to the waistband of your skirt.

"should i take it off?"

"no." he says firmly. "keep it all on. bright colours look beautiful on you."

"but won't it be difficult?"

"let me do the worrying. you just relax."

with a glint in his eyes, he disappears under your skirt, and you almost yelp when his cold fingers touch your thighs. you try closing them, but his strong grip keeps them apart.

"stay still for me, princess."

a new flood of arousal washes your panties, the new nickname almost making your back arch from the hard mattress. his fingers move your panties aside, and without any warning, his lips press against your folds, leaving a kiss to test the grounds. you gasp at the newfound pleasure, and then moan when his wet muscle swipes across your clit.

"i'll make you feel so good, i promise. i'll repay you. i'll show you how good i can make you feel. just stick around me, please. i'll let you use me for your own pleasure any time you want. do anything you want to me, or order me to do anything you want to you. just stay with me. please."

"i will, i promise, i do." you're lost in the feeling of pure ecstasy, his plush lips sucking and kissing your clit as his finger tests your hole. you clench at the strange feeling, pleasure now being replaced with discomfort. "mingi-"

"trust me. relax." he peeks over the skirt, lips glistening with your arousal. 

and you do, at least try to. his lips return to abusing your swollen clit, tugging it and circling it with his tongue, distracting you from his finger. when he decides that you are wet enough, he slides it in, slowly. he tests the waters, and when he sees that you're not clenching, he goes deeper. he moves in and out, knowing that you don't feel anything just yet, but preparing you for the second one.

he watches as your chest rises and falls heavily, soft sighs and moans leaving your pretty parted lips, and your hair already sticking to your face. he is satisfied with himself, finally living out his fantasy of making you feel good as a thank you. he inserts a second finger, easily gliding it along your walls. he curves them slightly upwards, brushing against the spongy part of you, and when you slightly jump and reach for his hair, he smiles to himself. jackpot.

"does it hurt, doctor?"

"it's a bit unpleasant." you admit.

"it'll be better, i promise. i'm just preparing you so that it hurts less later."

his fingers continue pumping inside you, with each entrance gently grazing your soft spot until you get used to it. when your whines turn into moans, mingi finally gives it his all. his thumb rubs your clit, while his two fingers continue with a faster pace. his lips find yours once again, tongue rubbing yours and letting you taste yourself from him. your brain feels fuzzy, and your stomach warm.

"stop, stop." you try pushing his hand away.

"why?"

"i'm close." you whine, trying to push the feeling away. it feels too soon.

"don't worry. i can do wonders in fifteen minutes."

his pumps become stronger and faster, and you helplessly grip at his biceps, nails digging into his already poor tormented skin. but he doesn't complain. he is too lost in the way you look, pure bliss on your face from his touch.

"that's a good girl," he mumbles when a long moan escapes your throat, your body collapsing under him with pure pleasure. "ride it out, come on."

your hips grind on his hand, which continues abusing your overstimulated pussy. you try to move away, but mingi grips your wrists and pins them above your head, then proceeds to finger you faster.

"please-" you're not sure what you're begging for; him to stop or to give you more.

tears stream down your face, pain and pleasure mixing inside of you and creating a roller coaster of emotions. your body twitches, another orgasm washing you over. the room is filled with squelching noises, and when you gather an ounce of strength to pick your head up and look down, you are shocked to see liquid spraying out of you and all over mingi's arm and bed. the man removes his fingers from you, wasting no time and popping them in his mouth. you watch as his tongue swirls around them, his gaze pure lust as he watches your body recover.

"forgive me."

"for wha- oh." your panties are ripped apart, pieces of fabric hanging loosely from your thighs.

"you're so pretty," he kisses you, "so beautiful," your neck, "so pure," your collarbone, "so kind," your stomach, "and so perfectly made for me."

his hands pick you up from the bed, then gently lay you across the dusty old desk near the little window with your back turned towards him. your upper body shivers when it makes contact with the cold wood, and legs almost tremble. you grip the edges of the desk, not questioning his methods. you can barely stand, but your desire to feel him, all of him, gives you energy.

"you're so small underneath me," his hand flips your skirt over, fingers caressing your buttcheeks and thighs while his other hand works on his boxers. "you fit in my hands just perfect."

you can only hum, too lost in the euphoria. his hand spreads your legs apart, and carefully pulls your hair back so that it doesn't fall in your face. you feel a warm muscle circle your hole, which clenches around nothing.

"i'm gonna claim you, doctor. you'll be mine, full of me. i'll mark you up, let everyone know that you belong to me, and i belong to you."

then, he slides in, making you grip the desk and almost bite into it. it hurts like hell, his thick cock splitting you apart. you almost growl in pain, but mingi puts his hand over your mouth just in time. you bite into it, finding comfort in hurting him while he hurts you. but it doesn't last long, because mingi knows what he's doing. he gently pulls out, then slides back in, and so a few times until your hips willingly push back in search for his cock. you are stuffed, and feel him in your stomach. his hands hold your hips in place, while his lips kiss along your spine and shoulders. every now and then, he bites and sucks, marking you just like he promised.

"you'll be mine, and mine only. won't you? tell me you will, please. have mercy on me."

"yes, yes, i will." you groan, focusing on chasing the pleasure.

"can i stuff you full of my cum?"

"you can, please."

"are you on any pills?"

"no, oh fuck- no, i'm not. just- just fuck me, please. i don't care."

mingi is taken aback by your request. but who is he to disobey you? he finds himself roughly pounding into you, completely ignoring your painful whines. he raises one of your legs on the table, and finally reaches the angle he needed. you bite into his hand again, hiding moans. he would love to hear you, more than anything, but with elijah and barnes right around the corner, it's impossible. another time. if mingi is lucky, he'll get to see and hear it.

"pretty," thrust, "so pretty," thrust, "i'm obsessed with you."

"you look beautiful stuffed with my cock."

"your cunt is the prettiest one i've ever seen."

"i want to see your cumming face every day, forever."

"i want you all to myself."

he chants against your ear, warm chest pressing against your back as he reaches deep inside of you, his pace slowing.

"i want to feel your walls swallow me every single day."

"your cunt was shaped for me."

"i'll have you squirting all over my tongue."

"nobody can touch you except me. not even you."

"and nobody will touch me, except you."

"please, doctor, make me the happiest prisoner in this shithole."

he halts his movements to catch a breath. but you, so desperate for him, move your hips and fuck yourself on him. it gives him a new surge of energy, and mingi can't help but bruise your skin with his grip as his skin slaps against yours, cock kissing your cervix and driving you insane.

"cream all over my cock, princess. please."

he doesn't have to say it twice. the third orgasm has your vision blurry, and you mouth almost drooling. you fuck yourself dumb on his cock, riding out your orgasm and feeling warm liquid spilling inside of you. he grunts behind you, helping both of you get the final touches of pleasure out before pulling out. his cum drips from your hole, down your thigh, and mingi fights the urge to stuff you full of himself one more time. it's enough for one night, he concludes.

"see? and five minutes to spare." he jokingly whispers, planting a kiss on your shoulder where a purple bite sized bruise is being formed. "let me help you get dressed."

you stand up straight, and allow him to take care of you. he delicately buttons your blouse up, fixing your collar, then reaches for his half soaked bed sheet so he can dry your skirt. you watch him as he tries his best to put you together, thinking if this was your best or worst decision of your life.

"wow. just what the fuck did i say? i find you, i kill him."

your legs feel cold, like they were sliced. your eyes widen, and mingi stills on his knees under you. you can only put your hands on his head and bring him close to you for a hug in hopes of protecting him somehow. a few seconds feel like hours to you, holding his body close to you and feeling his hands hug your legs shakily, before he is mercilessly torn away and dragged down the hallway, by none other than elijah and barnes.

jeong yunho stays at the door, a smirk expanding on his lips. he knew. from the moment you met mingi, yunho knew this moment would come. he just needed a puppet to arrange his sentence.

my saviour, the young prisoner said.

yet he didn't know that you would be his death. served as kindness on a platter, only to turn out the biggest bullet of them all.

[daintcas]

lady killers ˗ˏˋ rafe cameron !

"man i'm a lady killer, if i want her i'mma steal her" / g-eazy

pairing. dealer!rafe cameron x innocent(ish)!reader

summary. his constant cycle of partying with privilege grants him anything he wants, until you show up to break the pattern.

contains. alcohol and drug use, tension, sexually suggestive, implied age gap, cliffhanger

the lifestyle comes with its perks, constantly surrounded by pretty girls who were more than willing to follow him upstairs. direct access to any substance he wanted, displayed messily across the polished coffee table at all times. not to mention the adrenaline-boosting boom of a surrounding party in some kid's ridiculously expensive house - thrown almost nightly.

it became a normality for him, whether or not he realized how unhealthy his habits may be. blinded by the attention, money, and already through-the-roof addition of popularity, the boy let himself be overcome by it all. but hey, isn't this how you're supposed to live life after graduation?

you, on the other hand, were never overly thrilled at the idea of occupying your time with what seemed to be an endless string of these things. that being said, it wasn't an unfamiliar scene after having wasted a couple of saturdays with friends before.

you also weren't one to deny the opportunity for a good night. which is why you didn't put up much of a fight when none other than sarah cameron insisted on your presence at a party she was hosting in her family's mansion.

she was friendly enough, but not to the extent of being by your side for the duration of the whole night because of an invite most likely given out to everyone in her contacts - that part had you a bit nervous. the idea of being stranded in a room full of highly intoxicated kids you hardly knew.

all precautions were eventually thrown out the window when you found yourself getting all dolled up in the bathroom mirror. mascara turning out perfect over a flawless base, hair down and flowing neatly, a strapless pale pink sundress you'd bought with sarah weeks ago tying it all together.

with one final application of lipgloss over expertly lined lips and a brief pose checking your reflection, you were headed out. fresh acrylics plucking your keys from the household bowl and looking down at your phone to check the time just as it rings, stopping your hand from unlocking the front door.

a sigh escapes you as you juggle everything in your hands to bring the device to your ear after blindly swiping to answer. a loud shout of your name has you flinching and furrowing your brows in confusion - and maybe annoyance. "yeah? hello?"

"c'mon, i'm outside!" a girl all but yells and it isn't until you hear a sweet, enthusiastic laugh that you recognize the voice.

"sarah?" you ask, though already having discarded the keys and slipped on your shoes lying ready by the doormat.

"let's go! i've got a party to entertain," the words are followed by the muffled sound of her shifting around, and you take it as your grace period to get outside before she takes off.

throwing open the door and hurrying down the steps of the front porch, you can't help but smile at the girl sitting in the driver's seat of a black jeep. beaming over at you, she hangs up the phone and ushers you over to the otherwise vacant car with a flailing hand.

the trip to tannyhill is filled with wide smiles and giggles over speakers blaring iconic summer songs. windows rolled down to take in an orangey-pink sky from the setting sun - which almost distracts from how sharp sarah takes what seems to be every turn in town.

the suv eventually comes to a stop after sliding down into the basement garage that screams wealth, right past all the cars lined up along the street. sarah hops out and offers a toothy grin while tossing her sunglasses in the center console.

"i'm so happy you're finally at one of my parties," she says while taking your hand and eagerly leading the way upstairs, her own dress swaying as she walks.

"me too," is all you offer in response, too entranced by the new level of rich that surrounds you while following blindly.

the mansion feels more like a maze as sarah leads you down and around hallways not yet crowded with partygoers. but, the blasting of music that vibrates the house says otherwise.

moonlight quickly replaces the sunshine, making visibility near impossible as you enter where the mass of everyone is. still hand in hand with sarah, you take the chance to look around.

between all the groups in the kitchen and on a makeshift dance floor, it's someone sitting among a circle of couches and chairs that has you doing a double take. turning back the second time is when you recognize the boy with his eyes still glued on you, wiping under his nose, to be rafe.

you don't miss the lazy smirk he shoots before sarah tugs you back to reality, finally dropping your hand and turning to stand face-to-face with the same excited smile.

"you'll be fine if i go say hi to a few people?" she asks, glancing across your face to genuinely gauge your feelings.

"'course. thanks, sarah," you answer convincingly enough that she's scurrying off to talk with whoever awaits her presence.

the best option you conclude is to go straight for the drinks. a quick scan of the counter and you're grabbing a red solo cup to fill with the first bottle you can get your hands on.

"better take slow sips of that," a voice behind you says, low and close enough to know it's you they're addressing. startled, you turn around, only to be face to face with rafe cameron. he must notice the way you tilt your head up with wide eyes, because he takes the opportunity to eye you up and step closer.

"you friends with sarah?" he asks as you set down the bottle of alcohol on the counter behind you, nodding casually - even with the way he's watching your every move so intently.

"mhm," you muster up, naturally a bit nervous standing under the mercy of 'kook prince' himself.

"yeahhh.." he draws out while taking a greedy eyeful of your whole being, tongue pressed to his cheek and making no effort to hide his arrogant smirk. there's a pause before he's nodding back towards the lounge he was previously sat without taking his eyes off you - your body. "y'wanna come with me and try the good shit?"

you look down at your cup when he taps it, swishing the cheap liquid while thinking over his offer. it doesn't take long before you're looking back up with a hesitant shake of your head and a small smile, murmuring, "don't think so.. not really my thing."

he tsks and shakes his head, taking it upon himself to ease the cup from your hand and positioning himself closer. he tilts his head to purposefully look down on you and get in your face, a smirk still present as he speaks lowly, "aww, c'mon. i'll keep you safe."

a nervous laugh and involuntary flush of your cheeks has you unable to refuse. rubbing your lip with a shy nod - admittedly not the most well-thought-out decision - and he's got a hand on your lower back to guide you, following close enough behind to allow his eyes to flicker subtly below your dress.

you approach the collection of seats, wary but not completely oblivious. rafe sits you down on a loveseat, hand moving to wrap around your waist and pull you to his side. the attention from this boy blurs the scene around you, rolled bills on the table, and various baggies with a particular white substance.

"so, um, what's the.. 'good' stuff?" you ask tentatively, looking up at him and shifting in the seat.

"'s all right here, baby," his grin is almost malicious and his eyes shamelessly drop to your lips. removing the arm around you, he spreads his legs and lifts his hips to fish for something in his back pocket.

you take the opportunity to look around at his company and it's no surprise to find topper and kelce among other random guys - even a couple girls who admittedly look a bit older than you and sarah. before processing the thought, you're looking to rafe for reassurance.

he, however, is focused intently on setting up a line of powder on your side of the table with a sharp black card. he sits back with a satisfied grin and looks over at you. "first one's free."

you stare up at him with big, cautious eyes for a moment before turning to the intimidatingly thick string of white.

he chuckles and uses a finger to smudge the neat line, collecting a less daunting amount on the digit. a nod of his head signals he wants you closer, so you do, positioning your body to face him.

snaking a hand to hold firmly behind your neck, he tilts your head back only slightly and prepares to bring his finger to your nose. a raise of his brow asks for permission and you nod.

the substance shoots through you unexpectedly quick which has you screwing your eyes shut and wincing. the reaction only amuses rafe and he moves the arm around your shoulder and tugs you into him once again.

finding solace in the embrace, you allow yourself to sink into his chest - an unsafe level of vulnerability. everything is loud, the booming of music and people feeling increasingly suffocating.

rafe laughs again, smirking in a way that now seems taunting. he takes a good look at you before leaning in to let his warm breath brush against your ear. "y'know, you're real pretty."

that's when you really think about what's happening right now. laying against rafe cameron - who for one reason or another seems to have taken a liking to you. the drug pumping through you and butterflies in your stomach has your heart beating with excitement.

it also has you fluttering your lashes up at rafe with a dopey smile, telling him all he needs to know. all it took was a dot of coke and he's got you right where he wants you.

"why don't you let me take you upstairs?" he presses in a way that shows the line has worked a million times before.

but who are you to turn him down? there's no denying how tempting he is and your attraction towards him. but instead, you shrug and look around in search of sarah.

it takes a minute before you catch her eyes and are met with a concerned yet angry expression. she's quickly by your side and pulling you up from the couch, glaring down at her brother.

"leave my friends alone, rafe." with that, sarah is tugging you away and back through the crowd. your hazy state makes it hard to resist, but you manage to look back at the boy on the couch. he's sitting back, clearly amused but not deterred.

a wink is all he gives before paying his attention back to his friends, leaving you to wonder what all of this meant.

one thing about rafe, though, is when he sets his sights on something - someone - he gets what he wants. he knows he will, and you're no exception.

[willyoubemycherryy]

Hypervision.

Older!Logan x reader

Warnings: cursing, flirting, s3xual innuendos but they’re tame I SWEAR, age gap, alcohol mention, one petname, cliffhanger :3

𝑩𝒍𝒖𝒆42 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖♡´ ◕ ᴗ ◕ ｡ `♡ : @th3mrskory @smutinlove @inthetub @multifandom-random @multifandom-rand0m @fictionalmen-dilflover

part 1 .❄︎.

[2]_car karaoke is just conversation

°

°

°

“Hey driver…”

Logan looks at you through the rear view mirror as your lilting voice reaches his ears. He briefly considers ignoring you for the sake of keeping things professional and because he could already hear the bit of mischief in your tone but decides to humor you, responding with a soft hum.

“I was just making a guess before but I really gotta ask- are you any fun?” When you were told there’d be a change in your team, nothing major just a new driver, he was not what you imagined. You had pictured someone bland and…inconspicuous; the man in front of you was anything but. For starters, he was huge. Standing at least 6’3 with thick dark hair peppered with gray strands and a beard that matched, a strong nose that contrasted such dreamy eyes. Even though he was clearly silverfox/beekeeping age older, you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t gorgeous.

You hear a light scoff after a minute, almost forgetting you ever even asked anything while looking at him.

“I wouldn’t bet on it. M’ too old for fun, kid”, he says and your heart jumps at how deep his voice is. There was definitely a backstory to the rasp, a low timbre that’s mixed parts alluring and mixed part warning but his answer piques your interest and you can’t help asking-

“How old are you?”

Logan can’t say 200 b.c and it feels suspicious to pass your question altogether, deciding to settle for how old he’d pass for in normal human years.

Your eyes widen as you pinch your lips in to hide the growing smile. God bless beekeepers. Logan notices your silence and glances at you through the mirror. He doesn’t really care about your reaction (in denial) but he’s curious enough to look yet you’re not looking at him any differently, still grinning in that way that makes him weary but also like he needs to keep an eye on you. Still, there’s a few things he wants to ask about. Not willing to be the only one put on the hot seat.

“How old are you?” Your eyes pop wider and you’re quiet for a second longer than what’s comfortable making him wonder if you’ll answer. It wouldn’t surprise him if you didn’t, a big part of your image is your mystery-

“I turned 22 a couple of weeks ago”, you say lightly and a bit of trepidation creeps into his system because he knew you were young but christ. You laugh again at the poorly concealed shock on his face as you scoot forward, wrapping your arms around the headrest of the seat next to his as you lean your face against it. It’s quiet for a bit but the silence isn’t uncomfortable, even with the slight shift in the atmosphere at how much closer you are to him, Logan doesn’t exactly mind it. Glancing at the gps, there’s still about 30 minutes left until you reach where he’s taking you but traffic might change that.

There’s a light sigh next to his ear and before he can look, your hand is reaching over to flick on the radio and suddenly he’s listening to a song called “indigo” by a woman named Niki while you grin innocently. “So…since you’ll be with us for a while unless you turn out to be a serial killer or stalker-“ Logan smirks in amusement at that, “what’s your name?” You ask, watching confusion flicker across his features before he snaps his head to face you at the red light, your heart quickening as he looks directly at you.

“What? Kid, nobody told you?” It didn’t make sense to him because if he was to be technically working for you then someone should have already passed the basics of who he was- on paper at least- to you but you shake your head.

“No. All I got from my manager was that he’d get someone to hire a new chauffeur so he wouldn’t have to keep driving me to everything.” Huh. So there were some things that Logan wasn’t the only one in the dark on. You clear your throat to remind him that you’re still waiting. He won’t admit but for some reason, it’s charming, the bit of attitude vaguely familiar.

“Well, I don’t know your name either”, he says but you’re not buying it.

“Of course you do-“

“No. Your real name.” You pout as Logan waits. It’s your move and you hesitate. “Besides, it’s not like you need my name for me to do my job.” Your frown deepens at that as the silence persists and Logan decides he’s humored you enough. Not wanting to get close or involve yourself with him anymore than what was strictly necessary but you want to push for just a little bit more. Your playlist is nothing but distractible noise in the background as it plays while you think, leaning back.

“Nobody knows my real name though. So it’s nothing personal,” You whine.

“I know.”

“Then-” Logan cuts you off, “then it’ll be our secret. Well, mostly yours but I’m no snitch, sweetheart.” Your heart leaps at the petname rolling off his tongue in that smooth drawl and you hum softly at that because you already knew he wasn’t the dishonest type just by the way he carried himself.

“But..” you start and Logan finishes, “but what kid?”

Stormy hazel eyes find your form again and he’s not sure what to make of you, not sure if he he needs to find out. It’s too soon to tell but you’re odd, cheeky, curious but you aren’t rude despite your status…charming too.

“But you can’t keep calling me kid, the same way I just can’t keep calling you driver”, you say sounding like the exact definition of petulance.

“Why not?”, Logan sighs back. Unbothered with his eyes one the road as you get closer to your destination.

“Take a wild guess”, and just to get you off his case…

“Because it sounds like a cheap porno?” The way your jaw drops makes him smirk, especially since you’re quiet then. But not for long.

“Yeah but that’s okay since the backseat is big enough…” Logan’s eyes pop open and he inhales sharply, a quick image of you on him in said backseat as he wills himself not to look at you. Hearing you shift in your seat but silent after, lost in thought.

It’s no big deal, it’s just a name…but nobody else knows except your manager. Taking a long look at him, you see the hardness of his features, the “stay away” cloud around him and make your choice.

“It’s…” your voice comes out in an almost hushed whisper and it’s soft, you heart pounding with anxiety until he repeats it. Low and reverent, it makes you warm and you nod your head at him, indicating it was his turn.

“…Logan.”

“Logan what?” He cuts you a look out the corner of his eye. You were pushing it.

“Logan Howlett. No more questions.” You smile, nodding. Logan Howlett. It suited him, both rugged and pretty. You could see yourself screaming it. You know….in case of emergency.

“Alright Eazy-E, no more questions.” Logan shoots you another glare but says nothing. The rest of the ride is mostly just music and your voice when you’d sing along. “You don’t talk much do you?” His answering hum tells you all you need to know.

Logan looks at the screen, you’ll be there in less than 5 minutes and he hums. The drive was more tolerable than he thought it’d be. “Where am I taking you anyway?”

“A close friend of mine’s birthday party. She picked the club so don’t judge me.” You put your hands up in defense of your innocence, the timing for it perfect when he pulls up to the front of a club named ‘The Naked Strip’.

Putting the car in park, Logan gets out and walks over to your side, opening the door as you get out. Using his arm to steady yourself, you squeeze the firm muscle there and think not for the first time that night- fuck was he big. You’re grateful there are no paparazzi yet because you aren’t subtle with the way you hang onto him. Softly biting your lip as you look up at him.

Meanwhile Logan is reeling not only are you standing close enough for him to feel your silhouette, catching whiffs of your sweet smell but also because he’s seeing clearly again. He wasn’t hallucinating it the last time and nothing hurt, unlike it usually did. Hundreds of thousands raced through his mind as to what the fuck was going on with him, mainly how but you call his name before he has the chance to think down the deep end.

“Thank you for driving me, Logan”, the way you seem to purr his name makes his nape warm as tingles settle over him. Lowering his head, he doesn’t just look at you- no- he sees you. Your eyes almost glow, the glitter around them making you look every bit the siren, pink lips shiny under the light pressure of your teeth and the contrast of your pretty little outfit brushing against his suit…

Clearing his throat, Logan reminds himself that he’s not supposed to be enjoying you. This was a job. Nothing more.

“I was just doing my job. No need to thank me but you’re welcome”. You nod, smiling- “But your job is also me if you ever plan on doing that…” Logan raises a stunned eyebrow and you’re giggling before backing up a few steps as you turn to go inside. Already eager for some drinks so you can tell your best friend all about your hot new driver.

“See you in a few! Don’t wait up!”

Logan watches the clear sway of your hips until you disappear inside, getting back in the car, no limp either as he’s remembering devious doe eyes, charming voice, soft wandering hands while wondering just how fucked he is….

He finds out exactly just how much when he picks you up.

Part 3_come over?….

[justmeinadaze]

Inescapable (Steddie X You)

A/N: This is the events that ties in with this thing here :)

Please enjoy!

Warnings: Older (Early 30s) Prisoner Steddie & Young (Early 20s) Fem college student Y/N, SMUT, public smut, fingering, grinding, LOTS of dirty talk, daddy kink (cause I'm me), female masturbation, handjob (m & m), ANGST, cheating (reader is in a relationship), mentions of her parents not approving of her talking to the guys, reader also mentions bf parents don't like her, readers bf interviews the guys and vaguely mentions things from season 4 like the deaths and starts a fight with them, boys get jealous and angry when promises are broken, cliffhanger ending (because I can :) ).

Word Count: 8533

"You can build a prison of stone and steel, but you merely present the prisoner with a challenge. Any truly determined man will find a way out but love, love is the perfect prison. Inescapable."-- Wilson Fisk (Daredevil)

September 1996

The longer you waited for the system to transfer your call to their cellblock the more your nerves continued to build. 

You had been corresponding with convicts Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington for almost two months so it wasn’t like this was your first time talking to them but there were so many different factors that made you anxious. 

Becoming a lawyer was all you ever wanted to be and you constantly felt like you had to prove yourself since your family was so desperate for you to become anything else. When you were told to pick a case, everyone in your class chose the obvious candidates making your eyes roll especially since there was no challenge in it. So many well-known cases had not only evidence but confessions from the defendant saying that they did the crimes. Manson and Gacy had done interviews constantly incriminating themselves.

Eddie and Steve never once accepted any kind of invitation to do an interview whether it be media or print and they never once changed their stories even in the letters they wrote. A plea deal had been offered for them to plead guilty with Steve serving only 10 years and Eddie with 15 but they declined insisting on their innocence. 

The evidence was lack luster at best and it killed you that their lawyer didn’t do a better job at defending them. You genuinely believed them and what they told you. Add in the fact that their demeanors in their writing never conveyed any kind of hostility or rudeness. 

Both men were always polite and answered any questions you had. They could be intimidating at times but you thought maybe it was just because they were older than you and stuck in a place they never should have been. 

Oddly enough though, you felt safe with them. 

“Hey, Y/N?”, a soft voice flowed through your ears. 

“Yeah, um, hey. Hi. Is this, um, who is this?”

“I’m Steve and Eddie’s on the phone next to me. The prison has a way for three-way calls but don’t worry. We can pay for those fees.”, the man responds hoping to calm your nerves. 

“Hey, sweetheart. It’s good to hear your voice finally.”, Eddie exhales heavily.

Blinking, you hear what sounds like one of them being hit as Steve scolds his friend. 

“Stop it. You’re going to scare her.”

“He’s not…I’m not scared. It’s alright, I just…this is all new to me.”

“What? You didn’t expect to be on the phone with convicted killers?”, Eddie replied bluntly making you laugh a little when you heard the other man sigh in frustration. “You’re going to have to get used to it with you wanting to be a lawyer. Unless you want to be lawyer like Steve’s dad.”

“Oh, no thank you. Tax law isn’t exactly stimulating to say the least.”, you giggle. 

“Ah, I see you tried to reach out to my father.”

“Um, I did. I hope that’s ok. You didn’t say I couldn’t—”

“No, honey. It’s absolutely fine. I say tried because I imagine he ignored you?”

“He didn’t ignore me exactly. I told him I was a law student…I just left out exactly what type of law I was studying.”, you wince on the other end fearing it may alliant him before sighing in relief when they both laugh. “When I started asking about your case he politely told me to fuck off and your mom didn’t answer my calls.”

“How does one politely tell someone to fuck off?”, Eddie asked.

“He’s got his ways. I’m sorry he was rude, Y/N.”

“It’s not a problem. I’m kind of used to parents talking down to me.”

“Baby? Are you hungry?! Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were on the phone.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as your boyfriend called to you in the background immediately silencing the men on the line. 

“Uh, no, Derek. I’m not hungry right now but maybe later?” After nodding, he disappears into your shared bedroom. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“No problem. Isn’t it like nine o’clock? You need to eat something, sweetheart.”

“It’s ok, Mr. Mun—Eddie…I had a big lunch.”

We’ve been writing for two months and you still struggle using our names?”, the man laughs. “You start your letters with ‘em!”

“I know. I know but it’s different.”

“Well, let’s shake out those nerves because I have a feeling we’re going to be friends for a while. You’re Y/N. Who are we?”, Steve instructs with a calm tone that makes you blush. “Come on, pretty girl. Who are we?”

“Steve. Steve and Eddie.”

“Good. Very good. Now can you say it a bit more confidently?”

Glancing around you, you make sure your boyfriend isn’t within earshot before sighing and replying, “You’re Eddie and Steve.”

“You have five more minute on this call.”

The automated voice startled you as you listened to them heavily exhale in annoyance. 

“Alright, princess. We’ll…we’ll let you go but feel free to call us whenever. Like I said…It was so nice to hear your voice. Compared to all the bullshit we hear in here…it’s a nice reprieve.”

You hear a line disconnect thinking they both suddenly disconnected before Steve’s voice flowed through. 

“All of this has been really hard on him, you know?”

“I can’t imagine…”

“But he’s not wrong. It’s been so long since we’ve heard a kind voice directed our way especially one as calming as yours… But, yeah, um, Eddie said call whenever but you know—”

“I can’t call after 10:30pm.”

“You got it, hon. Have a good night and we’ll talk to you later.”

“Good night, Steve”

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

 December 22, 1996

“Don’t let my uncle forget to give you the present we got you! We went to every store to find the perfect gift!”

You laughed hard at Eddie’s joke as Steve sighed in fake frustration into the phone. 

“Ok we didn’t but we did scan the Sears catalogue Wayne brought when he came to see us.”

“You guys didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Pfft, please. You’re our friend and you said you got us something so sue us.” You softly smiled when you heard Steve’s smile flow through. You imagined this time of year was exceptionally hard for them and wanted to do what you could, growing fond of them after all this time. “Are you still visiting Derek’s parents for Christmas?”

“That is the plan but I’m a bit nervous. This is my first time meeting them and I’m afraid they won’t like me.”

“Sweetheart, have you met you? They’re going to love you!”

“Shut the fuck up!”

This wasn’t the first time another inmate had interrupted their call. They explained to you that while the phones were in a private-ish area, the common area was still nearby. You never told them but you could hear the immediate change in their demeanor when it happened and it killed you. It was as if their old personalities would leak through before prison reminded them where they were. 

You wished you could have met the men they were before being incarcerated. 

“I’m sorry about that, Y/N. Everyone is a bit amped up with the holidays around the corner. He’s not wrong though. If Derek’s parents don’t like you than fuck them because obviously somethings wrong with them.”

“Steve? You don’t have to always do that… pretend like everything’s ok. Not with me.”

The silence on the other end was heavy but you could hear their steady breathing as they thought about what you were saying. 

“I have to. Not just for you but me to. If I don’t downplay it then—”

“We’re reminded that we are actually in a fucking prison we don’t deserve to be in.”, Eddie added breaking your heart. 

“I wish there was something I could do.”, you whisper. 

“Baby, you have no idea how much you do just by being you. We don’t deserve you, Y/N.”

“Yes you do, Eddie. You and Steve don’t deserve the hell you’ve been through. I wish I could at least hug you both.”

Again, both men were silent and the only sound you heard was your boyfriend in your bedroom as he finished packing the last of his things for your trip. 

“We wish we could hug you to, honey.”

“Yeah especially with the way your letters smell I always imagine you smell exactly the same…so fucking sweet…just like you.”

Their voices had dropped to a register you had never heard from either man before let alone any man in your lifetime. The sound had your heart fluttering as you licked your lips and exhaled.

“Are you, Y/N?”

“Am I what, Eddie?”

“Are you sweet?”

“You have five more minutes on this call.”

“Baby?! I got everything packed but I’m not sure if I’m missing something!”, your boyfriend shouts making you gasp as you jump.

“Fuck. Um, I have to go. I’ll call you guys when I can ok? Bye!” 

Before they even say a word, you hastily hang up the phone. 

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

January 12th, 1997

Biting the skin beside your nail, you glance at the other people in the visitor’s center waiting to see other inmates. Some women were dressed in low cut shirts showing off their cleavage making you a bit self-conscious as you adjusted the slightly baggy sweater hanging off your body. This was your first time physically meeting Eddie and Steve and you weren’t sure why but you wanted to make a good impression. 

Quickly throwing your sweater to the side, you fixed your hair before straightening the long sleeve shirt underneath that fit a bit better to your form. Not wanting to seem too eager, you chose jeans telling yourself it was also due to the cold weather.

You weren’t sure if you could bring anything but to be honest you weren’t even sure what would be appropriate. When you met Derek’s parents you brought a dessert that no one ate except your boyfriend as his mother constantly stared daggers at you from across the table. When you went to see your parents, you showed up with small gifts that they always seemed to awkwardly thank you for before giving you gifts as well that were things you could never use. Oddly enough the only person to react positively to you showing up with an item was Eddie’s uncle whose eyes lit up when you appeared at his front door with cake you made. You both shared it as he talked to you about holidays at the Munson household and answered some of the questions you had. 

What do you bring to people who lost their freedom?

Inmates began slowly entering the room and the sudden sounds of partners and parents sobbing as they embraced them overwhelmed you as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. 

“Y/N?”

When you opened your them again you were met with two tall men towering you. You had read about them constantly and seen their pictures numerus time in different place but having them both in front of you now abruptly overloaded your brain as you rose to your feet. 

They still physically looked more or less the same than the day they were arrested 10 years ago except Steve had a bit more facial hair and Eddie seemed to have more tattoos on his arms. Under their short sleeve white shirts, you could see their muscular arms and abs, again making you self-conscious as you pulled at the bottom of garment without looking. Steve’s hair was a bit longer but a bit frayed as if he had been running his fingers through it before coming into the room while Eddie’s long hair was pulled back out of his face showing off his soft features. 

“Is everything ok? You look scared. Don’t worry, honey, you’re safe in here. No one is going to UMPH—”

Steve’s hands flew up in surprise when you jerked forward and your arms wrapped around his waist. It took him a moment before his own limbs finally circled around you as his cheek rested on top of your head. 

“Fuck me… It’s been so long since anyone except Ed has hugged me.”

At the sound of his name, you released the one man to move to the other who without hesitation took you in his embrace and clung to you tightly as his fingers tangled in your hair. 

Feeling his hands shake against you, you pulled back into time to hear him clear his throat as he turned away from you to run his palms over his face. 

“Sorry, yeah, it’s been a while since anyone has come to see us. Well, except for Wayne.”

Their eyes never leave you as you take a seat and they follow you down making sure to keep their distance until you felt more comfortable. 

“I like Wayne. He’s been incredibly kind to me since I met him. Not that everyone else hasn’t…just hard to get a hold of people. Especially Nancy Wheeler and Dustin Henderson since they no longer live in Hawkins.” Shifting your gaze their way, you notice them staring at you with small smiles on their faces. “I’m sorry. I’m, um, babbling a bit. I’m just a little nervous I guess. Plus, you’re not what I was expecting…aaaaand I’m doing it again. Ok.”

Eddie’s hand gently reaches out to grasp your forearm that was resting on the table.

“It’s ok, sweetheart. There’s no reason to be nervous.”

“What do you mean by ‘not what you were expecting’?”, Steve smirks. “Were you thinking orange jumpsuits and tattoos on our faces?”

“No.”, you giggle. “I don’t know. I guess when you’re only familiar with pictures…seeing someone in person…”

“Yeah, we know the feeling.”, the long-haired man beams your way. “I was right by the way. You smell intoxicating.”

***

February 10th, 1997

You smile as both men continue to laugh at joke Eddie had made while they continue to nibble on the food you brought them. 

“I’m surprised they let you bring this in. Did you drug them with your own set of like pot brownies or—”

“Shhhh!”, you giggle as your hand reaches up to silence the metalhead who casually tilts back and captures it with his own making a silent mental note that you don’t pull away. “The guards here actually aren’t too bad. At first I was afraid to ask but when I did they told me it was ok to bring desserts but they have to inspect it, of course, and then it can’t be in like any glass.”

“And you said you brought this to Derek’s parents and they didn’t like it? I think these brownies are delicious.”, Steve grinned as he sucked some of the remaining chocolate off his thumb. 

“It’s not that they didn’t like it, they just don’t like me.” As you nervously chuckle and glance towards the window, Eddie’s own thumb caresses your skin comfortingly as the other man slides a bit closer to you when he hears the change in your voice. “Before me, Derek was dating this particular girl that his family found more fitting. Kind of like your parents Steve, his are high society and they’ve told him countless times that I’m ‘not a good fit’.”

“The fuck does that mean? You’re perfect.”

“Naw, Ed. Not to the ‘Hawkins Elite’.”, Steve sighs. “My dad was the same. Perfect to them had a particular meaning. It’s fucking stupid because you are an amazing woman.”

Your eyes lock with his as you thank them; his gorgeous honey irises burning into yours. When you notice Eddie is taking you in as well, you laugh hoping to break the tension that had suddenly built as you pulled your hand out of his grasp. 

“It’s…It’s not a big deal. He made sure that night to show me how appreciated I am on the dining room table so.” Your face promptly flushes with embarrassment as you try to hide behind your palms. “Why the fuck did I just say that?”

When you finally found the confidence to look their way, you noticed they were still staring at you but something else had replaced the earlier look in their eyes. Was that…jealousy? 

“Is that the kind of thing that gets you off? Doing something you shouldn’t?”

Trying to brush it off (and ignore the sexy sound of the husky drop in Eddie’s voice), you smirked as you lazily shrugged. 

“Isn’t everyone to an extent?”

“Hm…but not everyone is you.” 

“Steve—”

“Y/N.” At the sound of your name, you closed your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. Feeling a shift in the atmosphere, you lick your lips and lean forward till your forehead lands on his. 

“This is wrong.”

“You like that though don’t you, pretty girl?”  His humid breath warms your tongue as you subtly open your mouth to contain the strong need to melt into the soft sound of his voice. “I bet if I put my hand between your legs that little pussy would be dripping.”

Closing the distance, his lips mingle gently with yours as his large palm cups your cheek. You can feel in his kiss that he’s holding back and the flutters in your stomach desperately want more. Another set of hands takes hold of your face and you’re met with another set of lips that taste like strong nicotine and sin. 

“Fuck, you taste so good. Does he appreciate you, sweetheart? You deserve to be worshipped.”

“Eddie…I—”

“Munson! Harrington! Why don’t you share, huh?!”, another inmate yelled pulling you back into the reality of your situation. 

“Fuck off!”, the metalhead shouted immediately rising to his feet when the other prisoner did the same. 

“Ok, ok, ok.”, Steve tried to deescalate as he quickly stood up and placed himself between both men. “Come on now, guys. Let’s just focus on our own visitors ok?”

Eddie and the man continued to stare each other down before turning back towards their table but to both their dismay you were gone. 

***

February 16th, 1997

“Hey, honey. Is everything alright? You sound like you’ve been crying.”

You sniffled into your phone as you pulled your knees to your chin. 

“Yeah, I’m alright, Steve. I, um, I just got into a fight with Derek and he stormed out.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You can talk to us about it if you want to. We’re here for you.”, Eddie coos hating that he can’t just pull you to his chest and comfort you. 

“He thinks…I’m too invested in you two. That I spend too much time talking to you and visiting. He…he wants me to stop talking to you. Maybe—Maybe I should.”

“If…if that’s what you want, baby girl. We don’t want to make things harder for you.”

“Do you WANT to stop seeing us?”

“No.”, you sobbed making the metalhead’s heart burst when you didn’t hesitate. “I like talking to you. You both make me feel safe.”

“You know we’d never hurt you, Y/N. Not unless you wanted us to that is.”

When you laughed at his statement both men let out a sigh of relief. 

“What else do we make you feel, pretty girl? Besides safe.”, Steve asked. When you didn’t immediately respond, he took over as he lowered his voice. “Come on, baby. Tell us. Do we make you feel appreciated? Loved? Needed?”

“Y-Yes…”

“Do we give you tingles all over your body?”

“Yes. Fucking everywhere.”, you chuckled making the man smile. 

“Even between those sexy legs?”, Eddie adds, biting his lip when he hears your heavy breath. “Can you do us a favor, princess, and run those soft hands between your pussy? Don’t put them inside you though. Just tell us how wet you are.”

You don’t know why but as the brain fog takes over you do what they ask and slid your fingers between your folds making a loud squelching noise as the pads graze your clit. 

“F-Fuck…I’m—I’m soaked. I like the way you two talk to me.”

“Hm. Never had a man tell you what he wants? Trust us, honey. We fucking dream about how good our cocks would feel buried inside you. If we were free you’d never keep us off you.”, Steve groans feeling himself stiffen in his pants. “We know you like doing things you’re not supposed to. Maybe we’d show up at your school and fuck you in the library while you try to keep from screaming about how you can feel me in your stomach.”

“Steve…please…”

“Go ahead, Y/N. Push two of your fingers in that tight little cunt and pretend it’s you fully seated on top on me in the back of your class as you try to pay attention. At most you can warm my cock the entire time until everyone leaves. I bet you’d like that, sweetheart, huh?”

“Mmm—yes, Eddie, I’d like that.”, you pant as you roll your hips. 

“Jesus Christ, I love hearing you say my name. Say it again, baby, please.”

“Oh God—fuck—I’m gonna…”

You moan both their names repeatedly as the coil snaps and you ride out your high as they listen to your heavy breaths. 

“Such a good girl. You alright, honey?”

“Yeah… I just…I wish I could hold you.”

“We know, baby. Fuck do we know especially with what you’ve been through tonight but we’re going to see you really soon right?”

“In a few days, yeah, but I’ll call you tomorrow if that’s ok.”

“Of course, princess. You can call us whenever you need to.”

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

April 19th, 1997

Eddie’s palm held down the corner of your textbook as the wind blew around you. 

Since it wasn’t as cold outside today you were able to visit with them outside near the courtyard at a picnic table under a nearby tree. You told them you were studying for an exam and they insisted you bring your materials thinking they could be of more help. 

“I mean we were punished by the criminal judicial system so you’d think we’d know some of this stuff.”, Steve chuckles. 

“I know a lot of it but when it comes to tests I struggle to retain any of it. It’s like I just panic sometimes.”

“I always had trouble focusing.”, the metalhead adds. “That’s why I failed so much. Oddly enough the GED wasn’t as difficult.”

“When you get out would you want to go to college?”

“Oh, sweetheart. What school would take me when I get out of here?”

“Eddie…”

“He’s got a point, babe. I tried so hard to get into a university after I graduated and even with my sports record no one wanted me. I doubt a prison record will make that easier.”

“That makes me so angry.”, you growl. “You two didn’t do anything wrong. When is your next appeal?”

“Mine is in a month and his is in three.”, Steve sighed. “Let’s not talk about that right now. How are you, Y/N? Beside the tests and school, I mean.”

“Everything’s ok. My relationship with Derek has been a bit strained. He went with me to visit my dad and my father just grilled him the moment he walked in. To remove the focus off of him, he told him that I’ve been visiting you two. That, um, that didn’t go so well.”

“What happened?”

“He just…he doesn’t approve.”

“Y/N, sweetheart, what did he say?”, Eddie soothed as he shifted his body closer to yours. 

“He’s afraid you’re going to kill me like that girl.”, you murmured, panicking slightly when you see the metalhead’s jaw tighten. “You know I’m not afraid of you right? I know you’d never hurt me like that.”

“We know, baby. We know.”, Steve coos as he leans down to kiss your forehead. 

“I wish I could do something to help.”, you reply in that small voice that drives them crazy. 

After quickly taking a look around, he glances down at your skirt and without warning subtly lifts your body as he adjusts it so its further up your thighs. Grasping your leg, Steve lifts it over his own and Eddie slides over till he’s pressed up to your opposite side. 

“Keep looking at your notebooks, honey. Don’t lift those pretty eyes from the paper unless we say ok?”

“Ok.”, you answer breathlessly as excited nerves fill your tummy. 

“Good girl.”, Steve praises as he kisses your cheek and you feel his palm ghost up your skin slowly between your legs. “Fuck me. Are you not wearing panties?”, he whispers making you clench at the needy sound. 

“No…I was kind of hoping…”

“Hoping what? That we’d touch you?”

“Such a bad little girl.”, Eddie teases as he reaches for your hand closest to him and kisses the back before placing it on the bulge in his blue sweatpants. “Just enjoy his fingers, Y/N. We can use you to take care of ourselves.”

“Oh my—”

“Shhhh! You have to be quiet, baby. Don’t want to get caught now do we?”, Steve smirks as you passionately shake your head. As he guides his index between your folds, your free arm wraps around his as you rest your cheek on his bicep. “Did you like that? Eddie saying that we’d use you… Oh Munson, she definitely did.”, he exhales as he wiggles and presses his finger against your clit. 

At the sound of you trying to hide your moan in his arm, Steve tugs your leg further up his own and you suddenly feel his stiff cock through his pants rubbing against your calf. To your left Eddie coughs to hide a grunt that wanted to break free as he placed his hand on top of yours and maneuvered it so you were stroking him over his clothes. 

They both would give anything to feel your body directly on theirs but they knew their window of time was short and unfortunately where they were there was no way to discreetly pull down their pants. 

“S-Steve…pleeeeeeeeease…”

Eddie’s nose smushes against your cheek just as his friend guides two of his fingers into your core. 

“We’re gonna get in trouble, Y/N, if you can’t control yourself.”, he growls as he presses your palm harder against him. “Fuck, your hand feels so fucking good.”, Eddie groans as he kisses your neck. 

“Goddamn, you’re so fucking tight.”, Steve whispers. “I would give anything to—mmph—feel your pussy squeeze my dick. We’re going to ruin you, little one.”

Clinging tightly to his arm, you pressed your face into him as you muffled the screams that wanted to be heard. 

“Cum, pretty girl. That’s it, baby.”, Eddie urged as the coil in your belly snapped. “Good girl. Fuck.”

After sucking your slick off his index, Steve offered his hand to his friend who without hesitation licked the rest of his middle finger. 

“I knew it. I knew you tasted fucking sweet, little girl.”, he grunted as his other palm roughly grabbed your wrist, holding your hand still as Eddie rolled his hips a couple more times before shuddering a bit as he came.

Utilizing both his hands now, Steve pressed your leg harder to his crotch, grinding as subtly as he could till he grunted and his face scrunched as he soon followed. 

Calloused fingers tenderly lift your head and you softly smile when the metalhead’s lips land on yours. 

“I love you, Y/N.”

Giggling, you rub your face into his neck as you inhale his smell of soap and cigarettes. 

“I think that’s the orgasm talking.”

With a firmer grasp, Eddie tilts your chin so his eyes lock with your own. 

“I’m serious. I love you, sweetheart, and I think you love us to.”

As you turn to face Steve, he gently places your leg back down and helps you adjust your outfit. 

“I love you to, honey…very much. You don’t have to say it back or anything. We know that loving us…carries a lot of weight.”

The guards scream out into the yard that visiting hours were about to end and both boys help you gather your books as they walk you back inside. Just like every time before their eyes remain on you not wanting to look away till you’re completely out of sight. 

Pausing halfway out the door, you swivel your body their way and flash them the most beautiful smile either boy had ever seen. 

“I love you both to.”

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

May 7th, 1997

“Please be nice to them. They aren’t what people say in the papers.”

“I certainly hope not especially since you talk to them 24/7.”, Derek sassed making you roll your eyes. “I’m sorry, baby. Look, I promise I’ll be good.”

When you don’t say anything, your boyfriend wraps his arm around your waist and tugs you to him, smiling when his lips attach to yours. 

The sound of a throat clearing startled you as a guard lingered in the doorframe with Eddie and Steve in tow. The pain that lingered in their eyes told you they caught your kiss and it killed you. 

“Alright Miss Y/L/N, you and your friend—”

“Boyfriend.”, Derek corrected. 

The officer huffed at the interruption as Steve sarcastically laughed under his breath. 

“You and your boyfriend have this room for as long as you need. We usually use it for interviews for the privacy and if you need anything I’ll be right outside.”

“Thank you, Bobby.”, you grinned politely and the officer nodded his head in return before stepping back outside. 

“Oh, first name basis with the guards. Some people would consider that a red flag, babe.”

“To be fair, her father is a cop so…”, Eddie countered as they both took a seat in front of the camera.

“He IS Mr. Munson but, to be fair, this isn’t exactly his jurisdiction is it?”

As you shakily sigh and your eyes close, you feel shoes lightly tap your shin and when you open your eyes again you are met with their comforting expressions. 

“All right, boys, the camera is now rolling. Are you ready to begin?”

Both their faces twitch as your boyfriend’s flippant tone as he takes a seat beside you across from them. 

“Yeah, kid. We’re ready when you are.”

At Steve’s equally annoyed response, you felt your body tense as you immediately began regretting your decision. The sparing match was about to begin and you were just now aware this wouldn’t be an interview but a fight for dominance like animals in the wild. 

“Perfect! So, Steven Harrington and Edward Munson, you were charged for murder in the deaths of some Hawkins student’s including Chrissy Cunningham who of course the entire country now knows thanks to people in the town spreading awareness and the foundation they created in her name a few years ago. So far, you both have served 11 years of your 25-year sentence… what has that been like?”

“Well, Derek, it’s been no picnic but we have utilized the time wisely. We read and exercise out in the yard. I’ve been reading up on law and we both participate in the group therapy options provided. Eddie was able to get his GED and graduate from high school.”

“Aw that’s nice. It only took a prison sentence for you to finally finish.”, he smiles showing all of his teeth in that sarcastic manner you know very well. “Now, in your own words, can you tell me what happened to those kids that died in 1986?”

Your eyes remained zeroed in on them as they explained what they had told to you and a courtroom numerous times. Someone else killed them and circumstantial evidence made it seem like it was Eddie while a vendetta made it seem like Steve was an accomplice.

“Were you surprised, Steven, when Hawkins Lap retracted their statements in regard to certain Hawkins events including their involvement of the death of Barbara Holland?”

Steve’s eyes fluttered as he tried to hold back the feeling that bubbled in his chest. 

“Yeah, I was.”

“I imagine they did that since Eddie’s lawyer insisted on using them as a defense in this case. There’s only so much a company will allow themselves to be blamed for. What did happen with Miss Holland?”

“Derek…”, you warned.

“She was best friends with Nancy Wheeler who you were dating at the time.”

“Derek.”

“Is that why Miss Wheeler broke up with you about a year later? Or excuse me. She goes by Mrs. Byers now.”

“DEREK!”

“Y/N! You’re not their fucking lawyer so stop interrupting!”

“Don’t talk to her like that.”, Eddie growled as he sat up straighter. 

“Pfft or what? You’ll kill me to?”, Derek replied smarmily as he straightened as well. “Whether you like it or not, you two are criminals and apparently there was at least enough evidence for a jury to convict you BOTH of that. It honestly amazes me that my girlfriend can’t accept that fact.”

“She’s going to be a phenomenal lawyer especially since she doesn’t just look at what’s on the surface unlike everyone else in the town.”, Steve countered making you blush as a small smirk painted your lips. 

“Oh on the surface huh? So, Mr. Munson, you didn’t run after Chrissy was killed? Whether it be because you murdered her or someone else did, you ran and left her behind for your uncle to find, you pathetic freak.”

Eddie rose to his feet as his fists clenched but Steve hastily stopped him as he tried to calm him down. 

“When people go missing you just happen to be around, Mr. Harrington? Add in the fact that you both have similar scars that tells anyone with eyes that whatever you were involved in you did it together.”

“This is over, Derek. You promised me—”

“No, you know what’s over? This little infatuation between you and my girlfriend.”, the man rumbles as he squares his shoulders and faces them. “The letters and phone calls stop today as well as the fucking visitation.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?!”

“No.”, Eddie repeated. “We love her and we aren’t letting her go that easy.”

“Oh please! What can you two offer her?!  You still have another 14 years in here and then what? Your lives will just be smooth sailing from there?! You’ve only known here for one year and I’ve been with her for three! Trust me, guys, she needs a real man. Someone who can take care of her in every way a man should.”

“Oh yeah, little boy? Is that why when you fuck her she’s thinking about us?” 

The room went quiet for a few moments before Derek sarcastically chuckled and shifted his gaze toward you. 

“You want them so badly? Fine. I can’t wait to see your face on the fucking news after they tear you apart. At least I can get a good story out of it. Better than anything else you’ve given me this past year, you fucking whore.”

You jumped, pressing your back against the wall as Steve abruptly flipped the table over with his hand before Eddie charged at the boy and tackled him to the floor. As they began to fight each other, guards ran in to separate them, pinning both men to the floor as they held Derek back against the wall. 

Neither man look your way as officers tugged them to their feet and dragged them out of the room. 

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

September 27th, 1997

Steve bounces his leg as they wait by the phone for your call to finally come through. You said you’d call last night but you didn’t and it killed them. They understood you were busy but you made promises to them that they desperately held on to because there was very little to hope for in their current predicament. 

“This really pisses me off, Harrington.”

“What are we going to do about it, Munson? She’s got school and her job—”

“Oh, I see. So her failing to keep her promises is only ok because we’re locked up. Got it.”

“Calm down, Eddie.”

“Don’t tell me to--! Don’t tell me to be calm. If I was free I’d have punished her already but…”

After coming to prison, Steve had a lot more time to get to know who Eddie Munson was and came to find out that they had a lot in common. Their dads were assholes, their moms weren’t present, and they seemed to have a common attraction to being the dominant partner. On nights when he was desperate and incredibly lonely, Steve would sit beside his friend and elaborate about fantasies he had, had in his head since he hit puberty. 

Both men continued to look at the brick wall in front of them as they continued stroking the other’s cock. 

“I just want to push a beautiful girl onto her knees and fuck her gorgeous face a-as she gags around my dick. I want to hold her down against the m-m-mattress and stuff myself so deep inside her till can’t walk.”

“Mmph—that kind of intimacy is…is fucking heaven. To have a woman submit like that…fuck… have you e-ever punished a brat before?” Eddie smiles when Steve shakes his head. “Fuck, man. It’s on a whole—fuck, I’m gonna cum—a whole other level.”

After thrusting his hips upwards, his release hit his friend’s hand but what surprised him was when Steve grabbed the back of his neck and pushes the man’s head onto his leaking cock. The metalhead doesn’t protest, bobbing at a quick pace as the back of his friend’s palm guides him. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. That’s it, baby. Take it. Take all of Daddy’s cum down that sexy fucking throat.”

As soon as Steve had given him everything he had, Eddie patted the man’s thigh before climbing the little latter to his top bunk.

“Hey, Ed?”

“Hm?”

“You know when I talk about this stuff I mean…to like… a partner I’m in love with who consents to it. Like…I would never…hurt someone…”

“I know, Steven.”, the other man chuckles as he places his arms behind his head to stare at the bland ceiling. 

“Hey, Ed?”

“Hm?”

“I didn’t cross a line tonight right?”

“No, Steven, you didn’t.”

“Good because, um, you’re my best friend and you’re, um, kinda the only thing keeping me sane in here. Not just because of the…but because…I trust you.” Steve rolled over to face the wall, closing his eyes as he heavily sighed. “Good night, Eddie.”

The mattress above him shifts slightly until he heard the light sound of socked feet hit the floor. An arm suddenly wraps around him pulling him back into an equally broad chest and another limb slides under his pillow under his head as calloused fingers looped through his. 

“Good night, Steve.”

They never told you about any of that because honestly that was none of your business. To them, it was survival and both men trusted each other more than anyone else. They had been through so much and knew truths that no one else did. This was sacred and special to them and they were terrified of people turning it into something dirty. 

Not that you ever would or mock them in any kind of way but they just weren’t ready to reveal that part of them to you and were pretty sure they never would. 

“We’ve never gone that far with her. I mean she said she likes it rough and we’ve said some things but we haven’t truly set up the dynamic. How do we even do that in here?”, Steve sighed. 

“Add in the fact that as soon as she calls us Daddy or Sir we’re going to want to fuck her which we can’t.”

Both men chuckle as a sad sigh leaves their chest. 

“Can’t we?” At Steve’s words, Eddie’s eyes flicked his way as he leaned against the wall behind him. “I mean a ton of the prisoners here have contraband brought in. There has to be a guard or two here who doesn’t mind bending the rules for the right price.”

“Steve Harrington, you’re playing with fire.”

“I know but—“

“Harrington! Munson! Call coming through for you!”

Both mean exchanged a glance before picking up their separate lines. 

“Y/N?”

“Hey! I’m so sorry. I know I said I’d call an hour ago but I fell asleep. I cut back some of my hours but still. These classes are so difficult.”

“We were really worried about you. We get worried when you don’t call and you missed our last visit, sweetheart.”

“I know. I’m sorry. This will never happen again. I promise!”

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

October 9th, 1997

Their demeanors were completely different this time than the many other times you had come to see them and you knew why. 

It was so hard to keep up with your school and work schedule as well as keep constant contact with two men who had a set schedule of their own set up by the prison. You were doing everything you could but you could tell from their fire filled expressions it wasn’t enough. 

“I’m sorry.”, you reiterated as they continued to glare at the table in front of them. “I really am. I’m doing my best to—”

“It’s not enough.”, Steve growled making you blink at the audacity. 

“I’m…I’m not doing this on purpose. I told you guys junior year was going to be a bit more demanding but I’d do everything I could—”

“You do everything you can yet you still make promises and don’t follow through.”

“I’m sorry I’m fucking busy, Eddie! I don’t know what else you want from me!”

Fingers dig into your bicep as the metalhead yanks you till your face is inches from his. 

“Lower your fucking voice, little girl.”

The action startles you for a second before your eyes glare back at him as your teeth clench. 

“You’re hurting me.”

As you yank your arm from his grasp, you can’t help but sigh as you see a slight glimmer of pain flash through theirs. They really did miss you and hate being away from you but unfortunately due to the circumstances they had zero control of the situation. 

“I really am trying to cut down some of the stress so I can call and see you both more. Like I said, I cut back on my hours at work and this kid in my class offered to help tutor me. He’s one of the top students in my year so I really think he can help me.”

“He?” Your head tilts at Steve’s question as both their energies shift into something new that both frightened and turned you on. “Well, that’s nice to know, Munson. First she’s working at a bar till two in the fucking morning with drunk men fucking flirting and eye fucking her and now she has a male tutor she’ll be spending her time with! No wonder we haven’t heard from her. Little whore as all she needs at home!”

Your mouth fell open as he shouted at you, feeling hurt before the anger took over. Rising to your feet, you grab your bag but as you start to walk away, Eddie grabs your wrist. 

“We are not done talking, Y/N. We’ve put up with the disrespect for the past few months because we know you’re going through a lot but missing calls, visits, and now this? No.”

“Let me go now.”

Without releasing you, they both rose to their feet and crowded your space till Steve’s nose was touching yours and Eddie’s lips were hovering near your shoulder. 

“You’re ours, Y/N.” Steve’s eyes scan your face as your breathing stutters at his low gravelly tone. “And you will listen, little girl.”

“I’m NOT a little girl.”, you grumble back. 

“Then stop acting like one.”, Eddie adds. “Now, be a good LITTLE girl and listen to what Daddy says. Sit. Down.”

The smirk that dons his friend’s face at the title has your pussy clenching as his eyes remain locked on yours. It feels like centuries before you finally collect your bearings and shake the fog that had begun to cloud your brain. 

“Fuck you both.”

After shoving Steve’s chest hard, you quickly powerwalk out of the visitor’s room. 

***

October 12th, 1997

You woke up with a splitting headache in a room you didn’t recognize with someone’s arms wrapped around you a bit too tightly. Prying out of the boy’s grasp, you throw on a nearby shirt and tiptoe to the bathroom. 

Your eyes were still heavy from all the tears you had cried these past few days. You missed Eddie and Steve terribly but you couldn’t bring yourself to reach out again. You couldn’t believe their sudden change in behavior and how they spoke to you. Had the signs always been there and you just never noticed?

They had admitted once that they weren’t jealous of Derek because they cheekily declared that “that little boy can’t make you feel like we do.” Why were they so angry about your tutor and your job? Maybe it was because school and the bar took up a lot of time whereas Derek really didn’t. Because of his own classes he was always coming and going and whenever he was present he always seemed distracted. 

To be fair, you did make promises you struggled to keep but it’s because you were so excited to finally talk to them you genuinely planned to go see them. You would literally count the minutes till your classes were done, promptly run home to shower and be ready by the time you told them but as soon as your head hit the pillow as you waited, you would pass out. 

Maybe you just needed to find something you could do on campus so you weren’t up so late at work. Yeah it would be a bit of pay cut but you could make it work. 

When it came to their attitudes, you hoped you could talk to them and tell you how it made you feel. How did it make you feel? Belittled, angry, annoyed, hurt, degraded…aroused… You had never experienced the brain fog with anyone else other than them. The headspace just seemed to come naturally when you were around them or listening to them talk. 

Even if it was them just listening to you chat about your day, you felt that giddy feeling dance through your body down to core. Any time they praised you especially after doing something you knew you shouldn’t be doing; you felt a high like no other. You hadn’t told them but you had had many dreams of them suddenly appearing somewhere you were like class or the bar and having them fuck you roughly as they spanked you, pulled your hair, and held you down as they made you theirs. 

Your favorites were the ones where they were in your bed and had you tied to the headboard as both took their time with you as you begged and pleaded with them to make you cum. Your lips would ghost their own as their rough hands roamed your body and left bruises you would welcome the next morning. Their eyes would never leave yours as they took from you they wanted and you would repeatedly moan, “Daddy, please.”

Eddie mentioned the title during your last visit and from Steve’s expression you knew he enjoyed it as much as you did but they had hurt you so badly. 

You sigh as you exit the bathroom and quietly grab your pants. 

I’ll give them a few more days to cool off and then I’ll go visit them so we can talk.

As you slide on your shoes, your eyes shifted towards the Polaroid camera resting on the bedside table. 

Fuck me. I hope I didn’t do anything stupid with that thing last night. 

***

October 13th, 1997

Eddie growls loudly as he tears up your letter and throws it in the trash can nearby while Steve continues to stare at the picture of you allowing this boy to kiss what was theirs. 

“Give me that, Steven. I’m going to fucking burn it—”

“No… No. She’s playing the game, Ed. She made this move because she thinks we can’t do anything about it.”

“Because we can’t. UGH! Maybe we jumped too quickly, man. It just fucking hurt us because we don’t get to see her everyday so when she says she’ll call and she doesn’t… “

“Yeah…” Steve taps his fingers against his knee while Eddie takes another drag of his cigarette. “Maybe it’s time to have a talk with her. Show her how much we do care and how much it breaks our hearts when she breaks a promise.”

“She won’t answer out calls or letters.”

“Then we should go to her.”

The metalhead blinks as he nervously chuckles before his friend’s straight face meets his. 

“Nope. Nope. Nuh huh.” As the man begins to walk away, Steve runs after him and tugs on his arm to stop him. “Do you know how much trouble we can get in for even having this conversation? You talk to one wrong person, Steven, and we could be stuck here for another 10 fucking years.”

“What if I found the right person?”

“I…what…how?”

“How much money do you have?”

***

October 31, 1997

You faked a smile as you handed your cash to the cashier and grabbed your bags of candy as you headed for your car. Tonight, you were planning on a night in with some of your friends while handing out treats to some of the neighborhood kids. 

Truth be told, you didn’t want to do anything except curl up in bed and eat the chocolate you bought. You had tried calling the prison a few times but they informed you that neither inmate was accepting calls or visitors at this time. You sent a few letters but hadn’t received anything back as of yet. 

You missed Eddie and Steve so much and it killed you to not be able to speak to them. 

After pulling into your driveway, you hastily checked your mail before running inside to get everything together. 

Once your hair was styled and you slid on your red spaghetti strap dress to make you look like Cher in Clueless, you take a seat on your couch as you wait for your friends to arrive. 

Leaning forward, you decide to sift through the mail pausing suddenly as all the other letters fall to the floor. The envelope was marked from them like all the others and your heart did flips as you hugged the paper to you. 

As you tore the paper open, you half expected to see a lengthy note detailing how much they missed you to and when they’d want to meet with you so you could finally talk. Your stomach dropped as you read and reread the only two sentences written on the single page they sent. 

“Trick or treat, little girl.

See you tonight. 

--Steve & Eddie”

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

@lemme-slytherin-that-dick @micheledawn1975 @paleidiot @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @noooah @baileebear @dashingdeb16 @nailbatanddungeon

[coffeetank]

Easy Narrative Techniques That Spice Up your Works

Narrative Technique is, in simple words, the method a writer or author chooses to tell their story. It includes literary and fictional devices that assist greatly in writing literature or fiction.

In this post, I'm going to go into useful details about narrative techniques and how to play them out while writing your project. Here they are:

1. Setting:

You must've noticed that in genres like horror/mystery/crime the story is set in or restricted to just one place. This has an important impact on the protagonists and characters of your story. Settings play a huge role especially in the genre of crime/horror because the plot is carried out within those premises.

For example, in the movie Scream, the whole story is carried out in the town of Woodsboro, which is significant to note as it adds more thrill given that the killer is on the loose and within very close proximity.

Settings are also vital in genres like fantasy/adventure where the conflict is carried out in an unusual environment as it creates a sense of fight-or-flight hence gripping you into the story.

2. Cliffhanger:

Cliffhangers are common, and rightfully so because they are essential in a fair amount of stories. A cliffhanger is when the author ends a chapter or a book in suspense, often hinting at event that is due in the later part of the book or series.

Cliffhangers can either introduce the possibility of a newer event, or will create a gap before something is resolved, which makes your reader want more in order to find a solution. This encourages your reader to stick by and through, until a satisfactory answer is given.

Cliffhangers are also more effective in the genres of crime, horror, mystery, adventure, and fantasy. In genres like romance or slice of life, cliffhangers can be used, but it needs to be ensured that it doesn't deviate from the light-hearted mood of the story.

3. Multiperspectivity:

This one can be so interesting if used right. Multiperspectivity, as the name suggests, is when there are more than 1 or 2 perspectives in the story.

This pumps up the interest factor as different characters will see things differently. When you show the story being carried out in a variety of POVs, you give your readers the chance to read the story in a new light with every character.

This can also affect the plot, as different characters will have different goals by the end of the story. Multiperspectivity can also help you resolve conflict between different characters. In addition, you can use this to introduce a hidden villain/a hidden hero.

4. Sensory Detail:

Sensory details are the visual images you create for your readers while writing descriptions. This helps in the famous ‘show, don't tell’ and sensory details will visualise the scene for your readers.

This can also be paralleled with imagery (sight, touch, sound, taste, smell).

For example, imagine a hilltop. Instead of just writing about the fact that you see trees and the sun and some animals, you could put down your senses to make the description more visual. It would go like – “As she stood on the hilltop, her eyes took in the verdant swathes before her. The soft breeze tickled her skin while she basked in the warmth of the sun. Deer galloped across the lush, green grass, calling and prancing in carefree freedom. The scent of the earth hit her nose, and it was there that she felt she was home."

5. Foreshadowing:

It's common, it's effective, it's fun. Foreshadowing is when the author is implicitly trying to hint at a forthcoming event. It creates a suspicion in the reader's mind, which keeps the interest alive.

Foreshadowing and cliffhangers can be mixed to create a lot of questions in your reader's minds, which further keeps them hooked into your work.

6. Analepsis & Prolepsis:

Fancy words for plain terms. It's nothing but flashbacks and flash-forwards.

Analepsis (flashback) is when the author breaks the chronology of the story to bring light to an important event in the past. This either has an impact on the plot or the main character.

Prolepsis (flash-forward) is when the author breaks the chronology to go into the future. This can be used to highlight an important event (or events) that are likely to happen in the future.

It's important to note that these are not the same as time skips, which are just a leap from one time to another to not lose grip of the eventfulness of the story.

7. Chekhov's gun:

Chekhov's gun keeps your writing in check. Chekhov's gun is a principle that says any and every element in a narrative should have a purpose. If it doesn't, it get's removed.

Let's say you've introduced a character. Chekhov's gun requires you to assign a purpose to that character. Unless they are contributing to the story, they are useless. If they can have any sort of impact, then you keep them. If they don't, then they get executed from the plot. The same thing applies to objects as well. If your protagonist has found a box, something better come out of it or it's getting thrown in the trash.

8. Title Drops:

We love these, let's be honest. As the name suggests, title drops are when the author writes the name of the title in a line, or adds it in a dialogue, or uses it as a description to finish the story with a cherry on top.

Example: In the 90s romcom She's All That, there's a scene during their prom preparations where two guys are rapping and one of them says, "she's all that" as lyrics. This is a title drop.

9. Antithesis:

Antithesis uses two opposite ideas and puts them together to amplify the message you're trying to send. Antithesis can be done in two cases: contrast and parallelism.

With respect to CONTRAST, antithesis uses two polar opposites to highlight a certain point. For example: "In an instant, all the colour was gone. He was left with black. He was left with white." Here, you have ‘black’ and ‘white’ being used as opposite colours to signify the lack of vibrance.

With respect to PARALLELISM, antithesis puts forth a contradiction but in parallel structure. This means that the grammatical structures of your opposite phrases/sentences are the same. For example: "He was left with black. He was left with white." These two sentences have the same grammatical structure. Infact, the only difference between these two sentences is the colour, but then it amplifies the message.

I hope this helps those reading this. If you're a beginner or even stuck with your work, try implementing some of these to help yourself!

- ashlee