#truly has no brain cells in the moment | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

honeekyuu · 4 months ago

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take the edge off. [suna rintarou x f!reader] chapter one.

>>You struggle with your weight and body image, but Suna extensively and thoroughly undoes all the damage done by other guys.

You haven't gotten laid in over a year, and your best friend takes it upon himself to fix that for you.<<

series status: [complete]

masterlist. || next.

a/n: suna has two brain cells that rub together like little housefly hands when it comes to yn and literally at no other point

[feel free to buy me a cup of coffee!]

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“You know what’s crazy? I haven’t gotten laid in, like, a year.”

Looking back, there was absolutely no need for you to admit that.

But right now, there’s a bottle of wine in your system, and you’re about halfway through a trashy rom-com on a Friday night. It’s not shy on mature scenes, either, which is why you’d said it, your eyes trained almost wistfully on the screen as the two leads stumble through the girl’s front door together and get straight to business.

And it’s only Suna here, also a bottle of wine deep. He won’t judge you for saying it, not when there’s over ten years of moments far worse than this, very securely tying you two together.

He is, however, far more scandalized by your words than you’d expected.

Suna flies up from his sprawled position on your couch, kicking his legs off the coffee table as he turns toward you.

“I beg your most genuine pardon?” He asks, jaw dropped as he stares. You laugh into your wine glass, incredibly tickled and very tipsy.

“You heard me,” You answer, nodding pathetically. His eyes bug out of his head, and you’re glad he’s intoxicated enough to be reacting to this with his most authentic self, the one that’s kind of an idiot and about 150% more expressive than any of your friends could ever peg him to be.

“A year ?!” He yells, dragging it out annoyingly. “There’s no fucking way, Y/n. No fucking way.”

“Tell that to my dry spell, Sunarin,” You laugh again, shaking your head. “I’ve gotten to know my fingers and also my vibrator rather intimately.”

You certainly would not have admitted that while sober, but Suna’s just as gone as you are, not skipping a singular beat as he slumps in place.

“That’s so fucked,” He groans, dropping his head to his hands. “This has to be illegal – this is cruel and unusual punishment. I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

“Well, believe it,” You snort, pointing at the ongoing sex scene on the TV. “A year without rain, truly.”

“But why ?” He laughs pathetically, shaking his head as he turns fully to you and leans against the side of the couch. “ Why ?”

“I don’t know-” You shrug, waving your hand over your own body sarcastically. “Maybe it’s got something to do with this?”

You watch as he drags his gaze down the length of your body slowly, following the trail of your hand. He shakes his head afterward, finding your eyes with unspoken confusion.

You scoff, lifting your glass to him in acknowledgement. “That’s funny.”

“What?” He tilts his head. “What’s your body got to do with it?”

You look down at yourself, wondering if you’d magically become attractive overnight.

No, still the same. Thighs too thick, a tummy that pushes against your clothes and bunches up into little rolls, stretch marks and cellulite and all the lovely things guys hate to look at.

You’d always been a bigger girl. Food had been a happy place, a place of love and care. Ice cream dates with your dad after school, dinners out with your parents on weekends. Standing in your kitchen at the house in Hyogo – the childhood home that had come with the open doors of your neighborhood friends running in and out to play and snack on your mom’s cooking – and learning the family recipes, listening to your mom’s stern but warm guidance as she’d told you ‘ Do it this way instead, don’t add too much salt ’, the crickets buzzing loudly just outside the window.

High school had made food into a more complicated matter, because it had come with girls who’d poke fun at your uniform, bigger than theirs and still tighter than you were comfortable with. It had come with crushes on boys who would only talk to you to get information about other girls, girls who were worth their time. It had come with a strained relationship with your mother’s cooking, once so safe and kind and pure. You’d tried just about every diet known to man, and nothing had ever worked.

You’re in a place now where you’re just happy to be able to enjoy food to its full extent, whatever the cost. Good food in the body is more healing for the soul than starving and then binging and then starving again, viciously repeated. You fully believe this, and your mental happiness is the best it’s been in a long time, 26 years old and focused only on feeding yourself with good, clean ingredients and going to bed happy.

But it had taken a lot to get here, and you’re still recovering from the damage.

Luckily, high school hadn’t been all bad. In fact, Inarizaki High had had a weird way of changing your life. Boys and girls, nameless and faceless now, had ignored you and passed you over, only noticing you so they could use you – their personal entertainment, someone had admitted once.

But they’d also flocked to and thrown themselves at the feet of the most popular boys in school, vying for attention. The Inarizaki High Boys’ Volleyball Club.

The team was nearly legend, despite being just a group of regular teenage boys. Each player had his own group of fans, all unhinged in their own ways. The worst, unsurprisingly, were the girls attached to Miya Atsumu.

When he’d been assigned as your deskmate at the beginning of 2nd year, you’d felt a deep sense of dread. Would he make fun of you, too? If he did it, the entire school would be pelting insults at you by the end of the week. Would his fangirls start targeting you in worse ways, in the bathroom and during lunch?

But he’d been shockingly kind. Not a word uttered about your appearance or the things you’d eat. But not ignoring you like most boys do, not passing over you like he hadn’t even seen you.

He’d sat down that first day with a bright grin and a hand stuck out in your direction, all but yelling in your ear that it was nice to meet you and asking why he hadn’t met you before, his drawl heavier than your other classmates’ and a bit endearing, even on first meeting.

‘ I’m a bit forgettable ,’ You’d admitted quietly, but he’d just shot you a strange side glance.

‘ Says who? That ain’t nice. ’

You hadn’t known what to do with that.

You hadn’t known what to do with any part of Miya Atsumu, really. Not the daily greetings, screeched down the hall the moment he’d see you. Not the notes he’d pass to you during class, badgering you to become the Volleyball Club’s manager so you could become better friends. Not the way he could always kind of tell if you were upset by something someone said, because he would somehow become even louder after the fact, distracting you via sheer ear damage.

Not the way he’d become cold and detached the first time he’d actually witnessed someone bullying you, the way his bright eyes had dulled into nothing and held no guilt as he’d made a girl cry in front of the whole class.

‘ I don’t want to switch seats with you, ’ You’d told her, shaking your head. ‘ This is the one assigned to me- ’

‘ I don’t give a fuck, ’ She’d spit at you, pointing at her own desk, piled high with snacks from the vending machine. ‘ I left you a trail of food, little piggie – go follow it so that I can sit with Atsumu and give him something good to look at- ’

‘ Somethin’ good, huh? ’ He’d materialized just beside you, staring at the girl emptily. You’d almost been scared of the look in his eye. ‘ And who’s s’posed to give me that, you? ’ He’d cast a cursory glance over her, looking entirely unimpressed. ‘ You look like you couldn’t get through a single conversation with me.’

You’d gasped, eyes wide and watching as he’d flopped down into his chair and thrown his legs up on the desk, forcing the girl to scurry back from where she was leaning threateningly over you. He’d hummed, assessing her through narrowed eyes. ‘ You look like an only child. You an only child? You look it- Oh, no, I got it-’ And then he’d clapped, laughing brightly and nudging you, as though you weren’t frozen in shock. ‘ Don’t she kinda look like a girl you wouldn’t introduce t’your parents? Sure as shit not mine, at least.’

The girl had long started tearing up, the entire room watching in varying degrees of horror as Atsumu had just pulled a wrapped onigiri from his bag and offered it to you. He’d shot the girl a look of disdain when she’d started wailing, because Miya Atsumu was sharing his lunch with you, the girl that was forgettable.

‘ Yer makeup’s running, just so you know, ’ He’d state plainly, pointing up at her. ‘ My mom’s always talkin’ bout gettin’ waterproof shit- ’ He’d turned to you, eyes wide. ‘ You know ‘bout that waterproof stuff? Mascara, er whatever? ’

‘ I-’ You’d shaken your head. ‘ I don’t wear makeup, I don’t know- ’

He’d grinned in your face, eyes beaming in that bright way again, the way that you’d thought was guaranteed. You hadn’t realized how safe you’d found that brightness before now. ‘ You don’t wear makeup?’ He’d leaned back with a smirk, drawing the final line for everyone to hear and making it clear that you were not to be fucked with again. ‘ Naturally pretty, then. That’s how I like my girls. ’

The rest of high school had been a surreal experience.

You were impossible to pass over now, because everyone knew who you were. Girls were still cruel, but only in private, where Atsumu couldn’t see. Boys would still mention your weight, but only the ones who were rejecting your quiet confessions, and even then, they’d tried their best to deliver it politely.

Atsumu had never been more than a friend, of course, but he’d been a good one. The best one, really, considering that not even a few weeks into knowing you, his brother would regularly have to physically tear him away from you so they could make it to practice in time.

‘ I’m talkin’ here, Samu! We’re chattin’! ’

‘ Save it, fucker, we got shit to do! ’

You’d always found Osamu a bit easier to digest as a personality, and you’d hit it off right away – He’d been reading a magazine about baking when you’d met, and you’d mentioned wanting to try the cake on page 12, because you had the same one at home. He’d taken to you like a baby bird, asking you to try the random rolls and cakes and breads he would make at home. You’d been so shocked the first time he’d shoved a banana roll in your face that you hadn’t thought to consider calories or sugar or carbs or any of it. You’d just taken a bite and then spent the rest of the free hour taste-testing it again and again, using every ounce of your brain power to help him figure out what was perfect and what need improving.

But, if you were honest, you’d been more comfortable in the presence of his twin, in the tornado of genuine and terrifying care that was Atsumu. He’d always been honest and tactless, and – on the days when someone was unfortunate enough to have been caught saying something to you – he was cruel and mean and terrible, brutal without remorse. But he was your first ever best friend, exasperating personality and all.

And the only person worse than Miya Atsumu, really, was Suna Rintarou.

Your lunch breaks, originally alone and then suddenly with Atsumu, were even more suddenly shaken with the introduction of the VBC. To Aran and Kita and – crucially – to Suna, whose snarky demeanor and lack of a social filter was well-known by the time he’d flopped down into the seat in front of yours.

Suna, whose usual reaction to girls approaching him at lunch was to mumble ‘ Fuck off, please ’ lazily, through a mouthful of food and without ever looking up from his phone.

Suna, whose introduction to you had come with him pointing at your chopsticks, halfway to your mouth, and quietly asking ‘ Can I try that ?’ about your mother’s spring rolls. He’d leaned over the moment you’d stuttered a response – taking a huge bite right off of your chopsticks, even though you’d just met the boy 30 seconds prior – and then trading you some of his own mother’s cooking in return, half a rice ball set casually in your container.

Suna, who’d pried your phone from your slightly terrified fingers and entered his number, a steady stream of memes and YouTube videos buzzing in your pocket from that moment on.

Suna Rintarou, who wouldn’t only say something when he’d catch someone else being explicitly rude to you. He’d say something if someone even looked at you the wrong way or whispered to their friend in a way that he didn’t like.

‘ You got a problem? ’

‘ Something you wanna share with the class?’

When he’d come around the corner and find someone making pig noises in your direction or laughing at how your uniform fit-

‘ Were you not loved enough by your mother?’

‘Have you ever thought of seeking professional help?’

And when one boy had pushed at your shoulder – just a prod of his fingers, but rude all the same – you’d felt Suna’s presence more than heard it, a sudden chill hovering at your back.

‘ Apologize – on your knees – before I break that hand.’

The boy had hesitated, but he’d dropped to the floor soon after, because Suna had taken a step toward him. He’d muttered that he was sorry, and then repeated it louder when Suna had crouched beside him and whispered ‘ Again – like you mean it this time’ while smiling down at the hand he’d just threatened to break.

You’d been properly scared of Suna Rintarou for some time after that.

He’d noticed, his eyes following you in every room you’d walked into, an amused smirk on his lips.

He’d skipped practice one day to walk you home, hands in pockets as he’d trailed after you. No words had been shared, but he’d walked you home the day after, and then again. Atsumu had yelled at him for missing practice on the fourth day, so he’d started showing up in the morning instead, leading you quietly to school.

It had been raining one morning, about a week later, and you’d been rushing around your room to get ready, wondering if Suna would even bother to wait in the rain for you. Wondering when you’d started expecting him to be there.

You’d looked out the window, almost 45 minutes before you’d usually leave, and found him there. Under an umbrella, leaning on the gate and scrolling through his phone. You’d gasped, scrambling down the stairs with your mismatched pajamas and bedhead and yanking the door open.

‘ Suna Rintarou! ’ You’d scolded, and his head had popped up in surprise. It was the first time you’d properly addressed him during one of these morning walks.

‘ Get your ass in here! ’

He’d lifted his brows but listened right away, pocketing his phone and passing through the gate to your front door. Your mother had stuck her head out into the hallway, shocked at your tone.

‘ Who- ’ She’d started, but you’d just gestured in annoyance at the boy standing in your foyer trying to find a place to put his umbrella. You’d snatched it from him and leaned it on the door.

‘ This is Suna. Suna, my mom,’ You’d grumbled, realizing the state of yourself when Suna had just stared at the mess on your head and then pursed his lips to hide a smile.

‘ Oh, the stalker boy! ’ She’d clapped excitedly, and you’d barked out a laugh at Suna’s face of horror.

‘ I-No, I’m not-’ He’d stuttered, and you’d saved him by leading him to the living room.

‘ She’s just messing with you. You sit here and wait while I get ready ,’ You’d pointed at the couch and then disappeared upstairs, hurrying even more than before.

When you’d come back down, your mother had been urging him to the table to eat. He’d followed, clearly feeling out of place.

You’d eaten with him while your mom had been preparing a second bento, loudly exclaiming from the kitchen that athletes should eat more than three times a day. He’d just smiled gratefully and then eyed you, mumbling ‘ I liked your pajamas’ under his breath and snickering when you’d tried to swing at him from across the table.

It had been monumentally humiliating when, as you were pulling on your shoes, your mother had pulled him aside and very conspicuously thanked him for looking out for you.

‘ You’re such a nice boy, taking care of my girl. Kids can be so mean .’

You’d stood with Suna’s umbrella in hand, glaring at him over your mom’s shoulder, because he’d looked way too pleased with himself. He’d followed you out, forced to run as you’d stalked off into the torrential downpour with his umbrella. He hadn’t said anything for a while, just holding the umbrella and walking beside you for most of the journey. But just as the school had come into view, he’d smirked down at you and said-

‘ You told your mom about me .’

You’d run the rest of the way to school, preferring to sit all day in wet clothes over finishing that conversation.

You’d been forced after that to get used to Suna’s voice in your living room while you’d dressed for the day, and then the knock on your front door after practice, your mother sending him up to your room to lounge on your floor and copy off your homework.

You hadn’t been able to get rid of him, and more than ten years had passed just the same, college finding him more often in your dorm room than his own and post-grad life finding the two of you and the Miya twins in Osaka. Atsumu had been recruited to the Black Jackals, and Suna had opened a tattoo shop, practicing on himself through college until his skin had been covered in ink and a deposit had been put down on a small shop space not too far from your apartment.

You had formed a kind of soul-bond with Osamu over all things food-related, even with your own strained relationship with it, and you’d co-signed on an empty shop across the street from the Jackals’ home gym. You’d opened a cafe on one side, your culinary degree put to use on an extensive knowledge of coffees and teas, and Osamu had set up a bakery on the other side, the two of you decorating cakes and testing recipes for hours after closing time. Your shared shop had seen wild success, both due to your talents and due to being located in a tourist and sports enthusiast hotspot.

You’d each had your various failed relationships throughout the years, Atsumu currently in the midst of a secret situationship with Sakusa Kiyoomi, and Osamu crushing rather pathetically on Hinata Shouyou’s friend Yachi Hitoka, who runs a flower shop down the road. You’d become friends with her, at first to subtly put in a good word for Samu, but now mostly because she’s likely to appear at your counter at least twice a day to hang out and try the special of the day.

Suna had had a few short flings with girls in the area, one a model-beautiful blonde who’d, offhand in the middle of your cafe, offered to be your ‘gym buddy’, should you want one. She’d been dumped on the spot, Suna going so far as to pluck the iced latte from her hand and pour it out inside her purse while holding eye contact with her.

The girls after her had been equally beautiful, but he’d always find something about them that was unacceptable after a few weeks. This one too loud and bossy, that one too quiet and submissive, the other one too everything , as he’d put it. He’d never been happy with any of them, and you could only watch with bemusement and shake your head, brushing it off as being one of the many things about Suna that you wouldn’t try to understand.

All of your boyfriends – a total of three in the five years you’d all been in Osaka – had similarly found something wrong with you. It had always been the same thing, and you’d known it. You’d known it in the way their eyes would linger on other girls or the way they’d be less affectionate in public, less willing to hold your hand or put their arm around you.

You’d known it in the way Suna had hated every one of them, hands left unshaken during introductions and green eyes watching how you’d interact with them.

You’d always broken things off first, finding it a bit funny that they would get mad at you for it, as though they hadn’t just been swiping on dating apps when they thought you weren’t looking. Always mad at you for putting yourself first, because they thought themselves above you and couldn’t believe you thought you’d find better than them.

That’s why you’re sitting here now, on this Friday night with a bottle of wine in your system, wondering how Suna Rintarou is not understanding why your appearance is the barrier between you and breaking your dry spell. After everything , he’s not understanding.

“Dude, you clearly know what my body has to do with it,” You laugh. “You met my exes.”

“Well, yeah-” He waves you off. “But they were morons, so I don’t count them.”

“I feel like you probably should, since they have the majority opinion on girls like me,” You smile, taking another sip of wine.

Suna laughs, shaking his head. “I don’t think you’ve been fucking with the right dudes, if you think those losers were representative.”

“Do you see guys lining up outside my door?” You offer with a bemused smile. He flops against the couch, sighing.

“I cannot believe it’s been a whole year. There’s no way- Not a single one-night stand?” He tries, almost desperate to figure this out. You just shake your head. “ Why ? Where the hell are you lookin’ for ‘em?”

You laugh wholly, reaching to put your glass down and turn back to the movie. “It’s fine, dude. I was just making a passing comment-”

“Nuh-uh-” He crosses his arms over his chest, nearly pouting. “We gotta get you laid. I’ve become invested in this.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, ignoring him. He nudges you with his foot.

“Let’s find you someone at Miya’s party.”

You groan, laughing a bit. The Black Jackals had recently had a home game, one where they’d positively obliterated the opposite team and subsequently sent hundreds of cheering fans into your shop after the match. Atsumu had invited a hoard of people to his penthouse to celebrate tomorrow night. You’d already planned to try finding someone, but it’s a bit worrying that Suna’s involved now.

“Okay, you don’t have to get so invested. I’ll try tomorrow, I promise.”

“Nope, I’m invested. This is happening. You’re getting laid tomorrow – it’s been decreed.”

You salute him lazily, mumbling ‘ If you say so’ and going back to the movie.

–

When Suna picks you up the next night, he’s frowning down at you.

“What is this, what are you wearing?”

You’re taken aback, looking down at yourself. You’d chosen a cute red dress and thrown a cardigan over it – you look fine.

“What about it?”

“No, no, no-” He marches into your apartment, hands on your shoulders as he leads you to your room. “What is this nice girl shit? Take this off-” He pushes your cardigan off your shoulders, wrestling you out of it.

You cross your arms right away, a bit self-conscious. It’s a dress with thin straps, and you’re not happy with how your arms look in it. “I wanna wear something over it, though.”

“Oh, that’s fine, sure,” He starts, poking his head into your closet and knocking clothes around. “Except that this is a party, not a church retreat. You’re not wearing the sweater or the dress.”

“But this is my best-” You start, but Suna’s seeing something all the way in the back and reaching for it, eyes bright.

“A- ha! ”

You groan, because he’s pulling out the single sleeveless dress you own. It’s a body-hugging, little black number, one that you’d bought online when you’d been feeling particularly confident. It still has the tag on it.

“I dunno, Suna-”

“Just put it on and lemme see,” He thrusts it at you, and then he’s gone, leaving you with an outfit you would never have chosen.

You put it on, staring into your mirror with a grimace. The dress is too tight – your hips are too wide, your thighs too on display. Your boobs are too big, making the material stick to your chest in a way you don’t like.

“I don’t know,” You call. “I don’t like it.” You start to reach for the zipper to remove it, since you have no intention of showing Suna. But he’s bursting into the room, a loud ‘ I’m coming in-’ warning you with enough time to not unzip the dress.

He stops short, a pair of black heels swinging from his fingers – apparently, he’d been digging through your collection of shoes at the door for good ones. They dangle at his side, his eyes trained on your body. You watch in the mirror as he drags his eyes down the length of you and then back up, his lips parted in a way you don’t understand.

When he meets your eyes, he snapping his mouth shut and swallowing, ears turning a bit red. You frown, taking it to mean that he’s seeing too much.

“Okay,” You sigh, turning to usher him back out. He blinks rapidly and backs up. “Go. I’ll find something else.”

“What?” He stops, not letting you push him anymore. “No, you’re wearing that.”

“Suna-” You laugh, planting your hands on his chest and trying to get him out. “I look ridiculous.”

“No, you don’t.” He shakes his head, steady against you. “You’re wearing that. You look really good.”

You blink, confused. “What? Did you see what I saw?”

“I saw the exact same thing you saw. You’re wearing that.”

“Dude, no-”

“Yes-” He cuts you short, rounding you and pushing you out toward the living room. You shake your head, trying and failing to go back. “Stop arguing with me.” He puts the heels in your hand and disappears to the table for your purse. You stand in front of the mirror by the door, turning this way and that to look at yourself. You don’t see what he’s talking about.

He comes to stand behind you, and you examine him, too. He’s got on black jeans and a silver belt, with a black tee tucked into his pants and a thin chain hanging loosely around his neck. There’s a long-sleeve shirt thrown over it, and his lip ring and heavily pierced ears glint in the light. His hair hangs low over his eyes, and he lifts a hand to push it back. He’s wearing a silver bracelet you’d gotten him a few years ago for Christmas, your matching one sitting in your jewelry box.

He looks really fucking good.

You sigh angrily. “I cannot be seen with you.”

He just lifts a brow. “Problem?”

You examine him again, pointing at his reflection. “Take your top shirt off. Lessen the whole… punk-rock, skater-boy vibe, please.”

He grins, handing your purse over and then stripping, the long-sleeve tossed carelessly toward your couch.

You roll your eyes. His black tee is tight on his biceps, and all his tattoos are on display.

“That’s great. That’s really great.”

“What?” He laughs, and you just shake your head, bending down to put your heels on.

“You look like an entire meal, feeding women everywhere, and I look like a sausage roll.”

He doesn’t answer, and you glance at the mirror, finding his eyes trained very obviously on how you’re bent in front of him, both eyebrows lifted just slightly.

“Are you staring at my ass?”

“Huh?” He jumps, blinking. “What’d you say? Sausage roll?”

You stand, leveling him with an empty glare. “Don’t force yourself, Sweetheart. I committed to the outfit already.”

He shakes his head, looking a bit dazed. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But you most certainly don’t look like a sausage roll.” He follows after you as you turn off the lights and leave the apartment, waiting behind you while you lock the door. “ Like a present that desperately needs unwrapping, maybe ,” He mumbles under his breath.

You pause, key in the door, and look over your shoulder at him with a brow raised in amusement. “What are you doing, Suna?”

He blinks lazily at you. “Honestly? Regretting that dress.”

You roll your eyes and pull the key from the lock, following him down the hall to the elevator while he shakes his head with a small sigh.

“Whatever. What time should we come back?”

He laughs, hitting the button on elevator panel that’ll lead to his car. “I thought we agreed. Not until you’ve been fucked stupid.”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you at his wording. “I think that was just you decreeing things. I’m a bit more realistic.” You smile mockingly up at him, and he nudges you as you walk through the parking garage.

“You’ll find someone.”

You start to argue, but you see where he’s parked, and you’re not happy.

“You didn’t bring your car.”

He leads you toward his motorcycle, tossing you a curious look over his shoulder. “Nope. Bike’s easier to park on the street.”

You gesture down at yourself angrily, snatching up the helmet he’s handing you. “I cannot sit on a motorcycle with my legs spread in this dress.”

He smiles, glancing down at your thighs. “Why? Not wearing anything under?”

You smack him with the helmet. He just throws a leg over the bike and holds a hand out for you. You do your best not to flash him as you hike a leg over the seat behind him.

Suna waits for you to adjust and re-adjust the dress until you’re sure you won’t be giving anyone a show on the way there. But when you put on the helmet and pat his shoulders to signal that you’re ready, he reaches back and wraps both hands around your thighs, dragging you closer to his back. You scream, slapping his hands, but he just pulls your arms around his waist.

“Gotta make sure you’re safe and sound,” He says, muffled through his helmet, but you can still hear the laugh in his voice.

“I hate you,” You state loudly. He just kicks the bike into life with a snicker.

The ride to Atsumu’s penthouse is a nightmare of checking your dress at red lights and praying no one’s seeing anything. By the time you get there, you’re stressed.

“What’d I tell you?” Suna asks, sliding into a narrow parking spot right outside Atsumu’s building. “Easier parking.”

“I hate you,” You repeat, letting him help you awkwardly off the bike and immediately fixing everything. He pulls the helmet gently off of you and brushes your hair out of your face. And then he smiles lazily.

“You’re so getting laid tonight. I can feel it.”

You don’t bother responding, just following him into the lobby. The front desk girl waves you through, recognizing you. Her eyes trail down your body, eyebrows raised, and you’re immediately self-conscious. But she leans over the desk, calling out as you’re reaching the elevator.

“You look really pretty!”

You blink, looking back and then up at Suna. “She talking to me or you?”

“You,” He laughs. “Definitely you.”

“Oh-” The elevator dings, signaling Atsumu’s arrival to get you up to the penthouse with his key, but you’re calling back to the girl with an awkward laugh as the doors open. “Thank you!”

“Hey- Holy shit- ”

You turn, finding Atsumu inside the elevator, staring at you with comically wide eyes and a dropped jaw. He stares so long that the elevator doors close between you, and he’s rushing to open it again. You give him a weird look.

“What?”

He shoots you a look of disbelief. “What d’ya mean, ‘ what ’? Look at you!”

You follow Suna into the elevator, mumbling, “I regret buying this dress.”

Suna shakes his head, leaning back against the wall and addressing Atsumu. “She won’t listen to me about the dress.”

Atsumu’s still staring. “What’re you tryna do, get laid?”

Suna looks at you with lifted brows and a pleased grin. “See? He gets it.”

“Damn, if Omi ‘n I weren’t-” Atsumu shakes his head, whistling. “You’d have trouble gettin’ rid of me.”

You flush, crossing your arms over your middle. “Tsumu… I really don’t look bad?”

“No way ,” He laughs, still staring. “I might go break up with ‘im, honestly.”

You laugh, face warm as you stare down at your feet. Suna scoffs beside you.

“Oh, sure, believe him but not me.” He smiles when you nudge him, and then he claps once. “Okay, here’s the plan. We cannot be seen together.”

You furrow a brow. You’d only been joking earlier. “Why?”

“Because-” He gestures down at your outfit. “- you came to get laid, and sticking to me all night will obviously mess that up.”

“But-” You don’t like not being able to stick to Suna – and, by that logic, Atsumu or Osamu – when you feel this vulnerable.

Suna shakes his head. “Nope. You gotta put yourself out there. Find someone you like and seduce him until you’re getting dragged into one of Miya’s spare rooms.” He points at you, eyes sharp. “Don’t leave with him, though. I don’t need you getting murdered.”

Atsumu nods along, finally peeling his eyes off of you to stare at the panel. You’re almost at the top. “Got lots of ‘em, spare rooms. Use one.”

You swallow nervously, watching the last two floors tick away. Suna pats you on the shoulder.

“You got this. Don’t come find me until you’re done.”

The doors open, leading straight into Atsumu’s living room.

You’re forced to wave goodbye to your safety net – he sends you off with a wink and a mouthed ‘ You look good ’. You square your shoulders and shake out your nerves, heading to the kitchen.

After finding a drink, you wander into the living room. Suna’s on one of the couches, talking to Bokuto. Atsumu’s sitting a friendly distance from Sakusa, looking like he very much wants to be in the man’s lap instead.

You see Osamu near the window, talking to someone you don’t know but looking across the room. You follow it, finding Yachi and Hinata, and make a beeline straight for her.

“Hi!” You say, and they both turn to look at you. Hinata flushes upon seeing your dress, and Yachi squeals as you sit beside her.

“You look so good, Y/n!” The younger woman hugs you tight, and you flush.

“Thanks… I’m really out of my element here,” You laugh, greeting Hinata. “Hi, Shouyou.”

“H-Hey-” He coughs. “You look really nice.”

You warm again, wondering if maybe you really don’t look half bad. “Thanks! You look good, too.” You point at his arms, seeing that he’s built some more muscle since you’d last seen him. “You really bulked up.”

He’s as red as his hair, eyes flicking to your thighs and then away. Your phone buzzes in your purse, and you peek at it.

[10:22 PM]

Sunarin : believe me yet?

You find him, seeing that he’s flicking his brows and glancing toward Hinata. You roll your eyes with a smile and start to put your phone away, but it buzzes again.

Sunarin: you got the poor guy stressed out

Sunarin: look at him

You glance at Hinata out of the corner of your eye. Yachi’s talking to him about something, and he’s nodding and giving the appropriate number of ‘ Uh-huh ’s, but his eyes are drifting toward you repeatedly, gaze on your thighs and chest and hips before he’s remembering to keep his eyes on Yachi. He shifts, swallowing hard and blinking rapidly.

Your stomach flips when you realize that Hinata really is checking you out.

Would you sleep with Hinata? You really like him as a person, and you trust him enough. But you’re not sure that sleeping with any of your friends’ friends is a good idea, in case things get weird. But – on the other hand – you do trust the people that you’ve gotten to know over the years, the Black Jackals all great guys. You don’t know if you’re ready to try to snag some guy you don’t know at all – that’s more likely to end badly.

You sigh, taking a sip of your drink. You just got here. You should wait it out, test all the waters and see what calls to you. Hinata’s very cute, but you shouldn’t jump his bones just because he’s giving you attention.

He’s a friend , you remind yourself. And the party’s just starting.

You talk to Yachi and Hinata for a long while, and – when Osamu finally builds the courage to cross the room and engage Yachi in conversation – you’re left with Hinata. You fall into easy conversation with him for almost an hour, laughing and smiling and leaning against him when your head starts to get a little fuzzy. He cracks jokes and tells stories excitedly and asks about your shop and life, and you feel incredibly fond of him.

So fond, in fact, that you’ve unconsciously decided that Hinata’s not the right guy for this. You really do like him, and you really do like the energy you have together, but that makes a one-night stand with him incredibly unappealing. You’re not desperate enough to risk the friendship you seem to be solidifying with him right now.

So when you glance up and find that Kageyama Tobio has arrived and is glancing awkwardly at Hinata while he talks to Atsumu, you smile at the ginger next to you.

“You shouldn’t let me keep you, Shou,” You say, and he smiles at the nickname. “I’m sure there’s someone here who you’d have a better time with.”

He furrows a brow, so you tilt your head in Kageyama’s direction. When he sees his old friend standing there, he swallows and flushes.

“Mm-” He laughs, shaking his head and looking down at his lap. “I don’t know.”

“I do,” You nudge him. “Go.”

He eyes you, seeing that you seem set on not letting things between you go anywhere. And then he nods, snaking an arm around you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Okay, fine. But I better hear about whose heart you break tonight.”

You laugh, squeezing his arm as he goes. And then you sigh, a bit resigned. It was the best choice, you know it.

Your phone buzzes.

[12:11 AM]

Sunarin: WHERE IS HE GOING

Sunarin: GO GET THAT SMALL MAN

You snort into your cup, eyeing him. He’s still on that couch, but he’s not speaking to anyone, just staring at his phone and glaring at you when he sees you looking.

Sunarin: he was ready to risk it all for you bro

You shake your head.

You: hes my friend, i couldnt do it

Sunarin: you wont fuck a friend?? thats like 85% of the ppl here!!

You: NOT THAT ONE

Sunarin: christ,,,, okay get back out there, soldier

Sunarin: I expect to walk past one of these rooms in the next hour and hear you having the time of your life

You: youre so heinous

You stand, heading toward the kitchen for another drink. You feel Suna watching you, but when you glance at him, he’s scrolling on his phone and ignoring everyone who approaches him. You text him when you get to the kitchen, head down.

You: should we just go?

You: i dont wanna keep you waiting

Sunarin: i mean this in the nicest way possible

Sunarin: stop being stupid

Sunarin: bc i will block you

You: hello??

Sunarin: idgaf how long i sit here

Sunarin: find a man and fuck him

Sunarin: that is your assignment

You: sir yes sir

You look up, intending to scan the room for your liquor of choice. Instead, standing in the corner by the other doorway, in a group of four guys, is one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen. You have no clue who he is, but he’s got dark hair and a cool smile and piercings, and you are utterly stopped in your tracks.

He catches it, glancing over at you and nodding in greeting. You smile tightly and move to the counter, pouring out the first thing you can find. You text Suna discreetly, something incredibly elegant.

You: AHAAWEFJAWOIFEJKAE FUCK

The counter where you stand is actually a bar with beams on the side, so the living room is entirely visible from here. You see Suna perk up, his head lifting as he peers over someone’s head to meet your eyes. He glances over your shoulder at the group, but you go back to pouring your drink while you calm your nerves, so you don’t see his reaction.

There’s fervent whispering behind you, and then footsteps. You spot three of the guys passing into the living room, so you glance back.

The beautiful man is still leaning against the opposite counter, but he’s got his phone out, invested in something he’s looking at. You see the three guys looking generally in your direction, and you wonder if maybe they’ve left their friend here on purpose. You glance at him again and then steel your nerves, turning carefully.

“Whatcha drinking?”

The guy’s eyes flick to yours, his brow lifting. He lowers his phone but doesn’t put it away, and he smiles at you. “Rum and coke. You?”

“Uhm-” You laugh. “I have no idea. I think there’s tequila in it.”

He grins easy. “Oof. Tequila always gets me. Kinda scared of it.”

You smile into your cup as you take a sip.

Across the room, Suna watches you talk to a guy he doesn’t recognize. There’s a weird feeling in his chest, the kind of bad feeling he’d always get around your exes. He watches the group of guys that have just come out, seeing that they’re eyeing you and whispering.

Then one laughs, and he knows this isn’t good.

He stands, moving toward Atsumu without taking his eyes off of you. You’ve stepped a little closer to the guy, and Suna feels his heart hurt a bit. You’re putting yourself out there, and the guy you’re doing it with is bad news.

“Miya,” He says, cutting Atsumu off where he is struggling to keep a good distance between himself and Sakusa. The blond looks up, clearly drunk.

“Hah?”

“Who are those guys?” He points with his cup, and Atsumu stands, squinting.

“Oh, I dunno. I think they’re friends of Bo’s.” Atsumu points toward Bokuto, who’s telling a story excitedly to a large group of people. “You know how he is. Always meetin’ people and makin’ friends. I let them up like 20 minutes ago, maybe?”

Suna swallows, watching how the guy you talk to lifts a brow at you. You must have tried to say something flirty, but he’s not taking it well. He’s starting to look like he’s looking down on you.

Atsumu hums, seeing it, too. “Want me to go over there?” His voice is clearer than it had been a minute ago.

“No, I got it.” Suna’s gone before he finishes the sentence, moving quickly.

Atsumu watches him go and then finds his brother in the crowd, sitting with Yachi. Samu’s looking over his shoulder, trailing after Suna, and then he turns. The brothers lock eyes, sharing a knowing smirk. Samu just shrugs, and Atsumu shrugs back.

Whatever Suna’s about to do, there’s no stopping it.

In the kitchen, you realize that this guy’s resolutely uninterested in you when a girl comes into the room and his attention is entirely gone.

You look, seeing that this unassuming girl is exactly what you’d expected. You glance at the guy again, finding a hungry gaze that trails over her body. Your stomach drops a bit, and you look over your shoulder toward his friends.

They’re standing at the bar, peeking at you and snickering to each other.

Oh.

Right.

You stare down into your cup, wondering when you’d let your guard down.

It hurts a little more than expected.

You smile up at the guy one last time, raising your cup to him.

“It was good to meet you.”

“Uh-huh,” He mutters, not listening. You blink and turn away, heading to leave. You can’t help but look at the girl as you go, seeing how beautiful she is. She looks up, smiling kindly at you, and you smile back. She seems sweet.

You go to pass her, leaving the way you came in.

“Y/n.”

You jump, turning back. Suna’s standing at the other door, by the guy you’d been talking to, his face relaxed but his eyes sharp. Only now do you realize they kind of look alike.

What is he doing?

“Oh-”

“There you are,” He smiles easily, stepping into the room.

Huh?

“Uh-”

“I’ve been looking for you all night.”

The guy looks between you and Suna. You look between him and Suna. The girl leaves with her drink, entirely unaware.

“Oh… Really?” You look out toward the living room, finding the other guys also watching Suna with confusion.

“Yeah. I was hoping you’d come,” He replies easily, stepping toward you.

His eyes flick down toward a spot on the floor that’s closer to him, and you drift there, eyeing him. He moves around you and reaches for a bottle on the counter, pouring himself a drink. He offers it to you, too.

You watch him glance over your shoulder at the group of guys, and you realize he’d turned you around and put himself in view of them. So they could see him.

Why?

“Sure,” You say, curious to see where this goes, and tilt your cup toward him. “Thanks, Suna.”

“Rin,” He responds, tilting his head to smile down at you, flirty and cheeky in a way you’d never seen from him. “You can call me Rin.”

You almost snort. “Okay. Rin.”

“I missed you last weekend,” Suna says, making a point to drag his eyes down the length of your body before he takes a sip of his drink.

You lift a brow, smirking up at him. He’s the only one who can see the teasing look you give him before you respond, playing into his game.

“Really? I couldn’t tell by the five missed calls. I was sleeping, by the way. It was one in the morning.”

He smiles at your line, and you can tell it’s genuine. He shrugs, holding eye contact and leaning in a little. “What can I say? I know what I like.”

“What you like…” You smile down into your cup, nodding. “And what would that be, Rin ?”

“Well-” He swallows, running his tongue over his bottom lip as he eyes you. “This dress, for one.” And then he slides his free hand over your waist, playing with the material. “It looks really good on you.”

His eyes have darkened by the time you meet them again, and it makes you a little nervous to realize that you’re unsure if it’s real or not. Your mind flashes to how he’d watched you bend over in front of your mirror earlier. Your fingers start to tingle.

Someone comes in behind you, and you use it as an excuse to look away from Suna and glance over your shoulder. The guy you’d been talking to is still there, but he’s got his eyes on your dress, interest lingering around your thighs.

You quirk a brow and turn back to Suna, feeling annoyed that this guy had only found you worth looking at once another guy had. Suna eyes you briefly, and you read the expression.

Want me to leave you with him?

He doesn’t look happy about the idea – you’re not happy about the idea – but you can tell he’s hesitating to continue, because the guy is paying you attention now.

He must not realize that you’d lost interest in that guy the moment his gaze had drifted. It’s Suna’s attention you’re nervous about now.

Still, you know that he’d only come to show that group of guys that you’re worth considering, so you tamper the feeling and lean into his game again.

You step close to him, watching how his eyes light up a bit, and slide a hand over his bicep. You make a point to trace the outline of one of his tattoos there, watching with a smile as goosebumps form wherever you scratch your nail gently against his skin.

“Is there something you wanted, Rin?” You look up at him through your eyelashes when you ask, wide and innocent.

You see the exact moment that something changes.

Suna’s eyes widen marginally and drop to your lips, green eyes heavy on you as he pulls his lip ring between his teeth and plays with it. His hand tightens on your waist, fingers pressing into your lower back and pulling you toward him.

“Just…” His gaze flicks between your mouth and your eyes. “Wanted to see if we could make up for lost time. Maybe somewhere more private?”

Suna Rintarou means to pull you into one of Atsumu’s spare rooms.

You blink, a sudden flush rising on your cheeks as your stomach flips. You squeeze his bicep, anchoring yourself to him. He just stares at your mouth.

You nod after a moment, poking your tongue out to wet your lips. He watches it. “Okay… That sounds good.”

His eyes snap to yours, suddenly filled with something that hadn’t been there before. When he sets his cup on the counter and steps around you, hand finding yours and pulling you after him, you realize it’s urgency. You barely manage to put your drink down without spilling it.

All four guys watch you get dragged out of the room and toward an open door not even 15 feet away.

You have absolutely no idea what’s about to happen.

You step into the room, closing the door with your free hand. “What are we-”

Suna spins, planting both hands on your hips and pinning you hard against the door. You gasp, eyes wide, and he lifts one hand and sets it on the door next to your head.

“I want to kiss you,” He says bluntly, breathing out hard. “Do you want to kiss me?”

You blink, lips parted, searching his face. You only find heat in his eyes, and it makes a spot under your navel tingle.

Do you want to kiss him?

“Yes,” You whisper, nodding shallowly. “Yeah-Yes.”

He breathes slowly, eyes dropping to your mouth.

There’s a moment of nothing, one where all you can hear is the muffled music and laughter through the door, the space between you and Suna Rintarou completely silent.

And then he’s surging forward.

You cannot, for the life of you, understand why you hadn’t thought of doing this before.

He pushes his lips against yours with force, full and impatient. You throw your arms around his neck, angling your head. The hand he has on the door comes to cup the back of your head, holding you tight against him, and you card your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, scratching your nails against his scalp.

Suna pulls back with a sharp inhale, his mouth hovering over yours. You blink hazily, your head fuzzy and warm.

“ Oh… ” You mumble.

“ More? ” He breathes, sounding just as shaken. The hand on your lower back pulls you flush against him, and you feel something pressing against your thigh. Your skin hums with anticipation, and you nod, your eyes still half-closed.

“More’s good…”

Your back hits the door and your hair’s being tangled around his fingers, head pulled to the side as his mouth finds your throat. The ring on his lip is cold between your flushed skin and the burn of his mouth, and his tongue passing over your pulse as he nips at the spot has a weak whimper falling past your lips.

“ Louder ,” He murmurs, the vibration echoing through your throat and down to your toes. He sucks harder on the spot just under your jaw, and you moan properly and in his ear. “Good, just like that,” He bites down and then swipes his tongue over it, soothing and warm. “Want them to hear you.”

Your heart pounds, and you cling to his shoulders, letting out a noise of confusion.

“Who?”

“You know exactly who.”

You remember that you’d just been talking to some other guy, that his friends had been making fun of you.

You’d already forgotten.

“Why do you-” You gasp, shuddering when he pulls your hips toward him, pressing his own against you. He’s hard– He’s already hard, and you haven’t done anything. You swallow hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “Why do you want them to…”

Suna suckles at a spot under your ear before lifting his head and planting his lips on yours. His hand leaves the safety of your waist and slips up past your ribs. You push your chest out, silently urging him to keep going.

“I want them to-” He swears under his breath as his hand closes around your breast, fingers kneading gently. He kisses you hard. “-know what they’re missing. How badly they fucked up.”

You’re out of breath when he pulls away, and you circle your arms tightly around his neck so you can lift onto your tiptoes and kiss him again. He touches you urgently, thumb brushing over your nipple once and then again when you mewl into his mouth. He drops his lips to your throat again, freeing you to make as much noise as you need.

You sigh loudly, because his other hand is falling to your waist and tugging at your dress. The material slides up your body, exposing your thighs and then even more to him. He leaves it around your hips, fingertips dancing down to your panties.

“Can I-” He hooks two fingers into the band, mouth hot on your skin as he heaves out an unsteady breath. You nod furiously, not a single thought of how you look or feel passing through your head. Not a single thought that he might not want this, because you can feel so plainly against your bare thigh that he does.

Later, you won’t be able to name a single other time you hadn’t been self-conscious in the exact same situation with different men.

He tugs your panties unceremoniously down to your thighs, fingers trembling just slightly when he presses them against your inner thigh. You whimper as he pushes your thighs apart, cold air rushing against your core and sending a jolt of realization through you.

You haven’t been touched by someone else in over a year.

“Wait, Suna-” Your protest is muffled against his lips. “I’m not gonna-I won’t last long-”

“Good,” He breathes, tugging your bottom lip between his teeth briefly. “Fucking good . I don’t want you to last-” He pushes his mouth to a million different places in quick succession, almost like he’s losing his mind just as fast as you are. His fingers hover between your thighs, cold against your heated skin. “Just want you to come, just to take the edge off.” He kisses you forcefully and murmurs against your lips. “ Just want you to come for me .”

He pulls away just in time for a moan to fall past your lips, ringing through the room. It’s embarrassing how loud it is, how desperately you’d reacted to his words alone. But Suna just smiles breathlessly down at you, face open and honest and eyes gleaming with a wicked anticipation that makes you tremble a bit.

He’s still holding eye contact when he presses against your core, his two middle fingers sliding through your folds.

You gasp so loud that it spills into a moan, and your head falls back against the door with a hard thump , his name ripped from your throat in something close to a scream.

“ Suna- ”

“ Fuck, ” He groans, dropping his head to your shoulder and sliding his fingers against you again. “Fuck, you feel so good-”

“S-Suna-” You cry again, fisting the sleeves of his t-shirt with white knuckles. “Oh, my God-”

He latches onto the crook of your neck, kissing and sucking the skin there as he swipes the pads of his fingers against your clit. “Don’t call me Su- fuck -” He cuts short, because your hips are moving on their own, rocking against his fingers. The tip of his middle finger catches on your entrance, and you gasp loudly, pushing your chest against his as you stare up at the ceiling with wide eyes.

You don’t understand. You don’t understand why this feels so good, why you can’t get this feeling on your own. Why the thought that the man doing this to you is Suna Rintarou makes your nerves tumble and twist and tug at the coil that’s warping under your navel, under his touch. You hadn’t thought to want him before, not really, because he’s Suna . Your Sunarin, your piece of home.

And he’s making you feel something no one before him ever had.

You don’t think you can come back from this.

All rational thought flies from your mind when Suna brushes his middle finger against your entrance again, with purpose this time. You gasp, clinging tight.

“ Su- ” He shoves his mouth against yours, murmuring his own name, murmuring ‘ Rin, call me Rin’ against you, suckling on your bottom lip. He pulls away to watch you again, to find your eyes like he had last time.

And then he pushes his finger into you, slowly and then all at once.

“ Oh, ” You gasp, your eyelids fluttering. “Rin- ”

He pulls out, crooking his finger, and then slides back in, nodding as his palm slaps against your clit. “ ‘s good, baby ,” He mumbles, burying his head into the crook of your neck. “ Again, just like that .”

You think the scream of his name when he slams his fingers into you repeatedly is loud enough to be heard over the whole party. He laughs against your throat, humming, and pushes a second finger in, drawing another moan out of you as his fingers reach places that yours never can. “That’s it, let them hear you.”

The coil in your navel twists viciously when something cold and metal slides against your thighs with each thrust of his fingers into you, because you’re realizing that it’s the bracelet – the bracelet that you’d given him those handful of years ago, the friendship bracelet that you have in your jewelry box at home.

You don’t think your past self would ever believe this is where that bracelet is now.

Suna pants against your skin, still rock hard against your thigh. “Let them hear how good I make you feel ,” He breathes, and your heart skips, that coil yanking.

“Oh, I’m gonna-” You gasp, fumbling to tug at his shirt, to tell him. He lifts his head to look at you.

And then he promptly yanks his fingers out of you.

You jerk at the feeling, and your heart sinks as your orgasm starts to fade. All you can do is stare up at him with wide eyes, the disappointment written all over your face, because you don’t know what you did to deserve that.

It turns quickly to confusion when Suna spins you around, and suddenly your face is pressed against the door, hips pulled out toward him. You gasp, planting your hands on the door to steady yourself, your face rushed with heat at being bent over in front of him.

That moment in front of your mirror had not prepared you for this.

“What-”

“Please-can I-” He asks, the clink of his belt and then the zipper of his jeans loud as he yanks on it, and you nod against the door.

“Yes, yes please,” You beg, pushing your hips back more.

“ Shit ,” He swears under his breath. “I wanna do this better-” You jump when something hot brushes between your thighs, something hot and incredibly hard. “-Later, when we get home, I wanna-” He pushes the head of his cock gently through your folds, and his groan mixes with the choked moan you let out against the door.

“Just wanna get you off once before we go, just wanna make you come once around me,” He finally gets out, hissed through his teeth as he guides himself to your entrance. “‘s that okay? Can I?”

You whimper loudly, nodding again and throwing his own words back at him, desperate and begging.

“ T-Take the edge-jus’ to take the edge off- ” You stutter through it, your heart doing leaps and your nerves on fire. You push your hips back against him, whining when he brushes against you again.

Suna groans, and he pushes his hand against the door by your face as he drops his forehead to your shoulder, that bracelet staring you dead in the eye.

“Fuck ,” He whispers, shaking his head. “Fuck , Y/n. You-”

He slips the head of his cock past your entrance, sliding into you slowly.

You stop being able to feel your legs.

Suna moans your name, low and in your ear, and your eyes roll back into your head at the sound.

Why had you gone so long without hearing him say your name like that?

“ Rin ,” You whimper, and he presses a kiss to a spot behind your ear.

“You’re driving me insane,” He murmurs. “Why didn’t you believe me earlier? Why couldn’t you believe me? Can’t you see now how badly I want you?” He starts to pant in your ear, because he’s drawing his hips back with a hiss and then pushing back in slowly. “Fuck, you’re too-”

You suck in a breath when his fingers find your clit, his hips stilling. You moan, feeling yourself clench around him. Feeling, for the first time in a year, truly full in the way that you’d craved.

You clench around him again, and he groans into your neck.

“You’re gonna make me come if you don’t stop doing that,” He pleads, breathing hard against your ear.

“ Why won’t you move ?” You whine, unable to help it.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your skin. “You want the romantic answer or the realistic one?”

You can’t help but giggle, because he’s making a stupid, Suna-flavored joke in a moment like this. “The romantic one.”

You feel him smile wide, even as the pads of his fingers slide against your clit, the little bundle of nerves that makes you twitch.

“I just wanna get you off, I don’t care about myself right now.,” He tries, laughing a little. “It doesn’t matter – all that matters is you, and I can get you off just like this.” He circles your clit again, and your laugh is breathy and sensitive.

“And the realistic one?” You smile when he bites down on your shoulder briefly.

“You’re so tight that it actually hurt when I tried to move,” He explains, and you clench unintentionally. “Come on , Y/n, don’t do this-” He swipes his fingers against you faster now, trying to get you close.

It doesn’t take long, not with Suna’s fingers on the most sensitive part of your body. Not with him buried inside you, throbbing and twitching with every whine and moan that falls past your lips. Not with his mouth pressed to your ear, his breath sending shivers down your spine and his quiet groans making your toes curl.

“ Come on, baby, ” He whispers, pushing his fingertips against you. “ Let me take the edge off, just like you said. Let me do this for you. ”

Your moan comes out as more of a sob, and your eyes feel a bit wet. The coil in your navel tightens and pulls with every word.

“ Come around me, Y/n. I wanna feel it– I wanna feel you- ”

You gasp, your nails scratching against the door as your fingers curl into fists, and your voice is clear and sharp for the first time in a while. “Su-Suna, I’m-”

-close, I’m close-

“Fuck, I think I am, too-” He admits, even though he hasn’t moved an inch. He shudders against you, breath shaky. “You first, so I can pull out-”

“ Mm-mm- ” You protest. “ ‘s safe, ‘s fine, I’m- ”

You don’t have the time or energy to explain that you’ve been on birth control for years, but it doesn’t matter, because he groans. He understands.

“Are you sure-” He chokes, and you hear a low whine in his throat. The sound pushes you to the edge, and you teeter there, sobbing.

“ Please, please, I’m-Suna- ”

You gasp sharply, because he’s lifting his chest off your back and straightening you up, pulling your back against him. He clamps his hand down tight over your mouth, turning your head so you’re forced to look up into his eyes.

“ This one’s mine ,” He breathes, his fingers swiping viciously against you as he holds that cursed eye contact. “ No one hears this but me .”

The coil snaps, and your eyes roll back in your head.

Your vision goes white, and your ears ring, the sound deafening as your body jerks, your fingers scratching and digging into his arms for stability. You feel the scream in your throat, but you don’t hear it, can’t hear anything except the low, muffled groan Suna presses into the side of your head. He twitches inside you, and then you’re warm as he comes, filling you in a way that steals the last gasp of breath from your lungs.

He holds you tight until you both come down, arms wrapped around you. The hand on your mouth falls, curling around the side of your head and cradling you against him. The shuddering breaths you let out mix with his, and he sets his mouth on yours, unable to put the effort into kissing you properly.

After a moment, your arms fall limp, dropping away from him, and your head slumps against his shoulder. He slides carefully out of you, holding you steady when you whimper and sway a bit. Then he reaches down, tugging your panties back up your legs and fixing your dress.

You turn in place, forehead pressed to his chest, and straighten him out with your eyes half-closed. He shivers when you wrap your fingers around him and tuck him back into his pants, and his hand cradles your neck, a kiss pressed to the top of your head while you button and zip his jeans.

When you lift your head to look at him, there’s no need to ask him to kiss you. He drops his head without a word, lips just as soft on yours as they’d been the first time.

“How you feel?” He asks, quiet against your mouth.

“Boneless, ” You say right away, and he smiles against you before pulling away.

“ Boneless, or tired ?” He prompts.

You shake your head. You don’t feel tired at all, your nerves still humming under your skin. “Just boneless.”

“Then,” He starts. “Can you find your bones on the way down to my bike?”

There’s a jolt in your body when you realize what he’s saying. That he’s taking you home.

“Yeah, I-” You swallow, meeting his eyes.

He doesn’t look tired, either.

“I think I can manage that,” You whisper, staring up at him.

A grin spreads across his face, wicked and terrifying in the way that only he is.

“I’m ready when you are,” is all he says.

You cling to him as he leads you out of the room and to the elevator, unable to process anything but him. Unable to process the way Hinata whispers ‘ Heartbreaker ’ warmly to you as you pass, or the way the twins give you matching grins of pride when you find them across the room. Definitely not the guy that you’d tried talking to, staring down at you when Suna shoves past him and all but carries you into the elevator.

All you can do is hold tight to him and trust that he’ll get you back to his place.

He kisses the spot under your ear when the elevator reaches the first floor.

“Come on,” He mumbles against your skin as the doors slide open. “I still gotta fuck you stupid.”

Your face burns as he drags you out of Atsumu’s building and to his bike, unable to imagine how what had just happened doesn’t count as fucking you stupid.

What’ve you just gotten yourself into?

#haikyuu #haikyuu smut #suna rintarou #suna rintarou smut #suna rintarou x reader

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orphicmeliora · 4 months ago

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"Kidnap me," you say, as if it's the most natural thing to ask of someone. Anyone else would've given you the side eye and left the moment the words left your lips. "It'd give me the much needed rest I require."

But Sylus only raised an eyebrow, quite used to your straight-forwardness by now. Even though you sit with your back to him, you know because of the mirror placed strategically so that he would be visible but you would be obscured. He seated himself on the chair beside the windowsill through which he'd broken into your bedroom. You frowned, how exactly does he manage to unlatch every lock there, you'd never understand. "What's the occasion?"

You don't know what to tell him because there was no simple way to put it. The ache in your heart felt like it had turned into a virus, infecting every single cell in your body. It had made a home for itself in the marrow of your bones and nerves in your brain. A weight so heavy placed on your shoulders like a scale, it was only a matter of which one would tip first and send you careening into an abyss so dark, so steep and you'd fall and fall and fall until—until—

(—there was nothing but a void and silence around you, profound and loud, and then maybe there would be peace. Maybe the fall would split your spine and crack your skull and maybe then you could rest.)

But you couldn't tell anyone of what goes on in your head during the darkest hours of the night even if you tried.

So you tell him this instead:

"I let him die."

Sylus barely blinks. Maybe he already knows what happened, what with all the eyes he has watching you. How much does he already know?

"Do you understand what I'm saying, Sylus?" You finally turn to face him, tired of scrutinizing his expressions from the mirror. And Sylus looks at you, absorbing every detail of your features.

At first glance, nothing appeared out of the ordinary but there was something odd, something missing.

The light in your eyes had disappeared but you were smiling and not the pretty kind. Your smiles were always radiant and sweet, you never knew how to fake one, so you only smiled when you truly felt happy. Right now, it was neither radiant nor fake, where your lips would twitch every two seconds.

You stand up and inch closer toward him, another oddity. It was him who erased the distance between the two of you, you'd never dared. Sylus had always chalked it up to you being afraid—not of him—but yourself and the events that would follow.

It seems the fear has eluded you tonight.

You gripped the back of his chair with one hand and the armrest with the other. Then you bring your face close to his—in other circumstances, he'd be quite content with this development but not like this, not with that dead look in your red-rimmed eyes.

"I. Let. Him. Die." You repeat. "Don't think I wouldn't do the same to you."

Sylus fixed his intense gaze at you. This face that he'd dreamed of for so long even before he'd met you, had never looked more foreign. He hated that. The uncertainty. It made him anxious.

So he bared his teeth, unwilling to show even a moment of weakness. "I wouldn't expect anything less."

#i have no idea what's going on #and i have no regrets #meliora writes #love and deepspace #lads sylus #love and deepspace mc #love and deepspace sylus #sylus x you #sylus x reader #lnds sylus #zayne x reader #xavier x reader #rafayel x reader

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lxclerc · 1 year ago

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𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔

summary… charles tries to help his girlfriend study but that proves to be difficult when he doesn’t understand a single thing requested… yes! warning… none. pure fluff.

note… another old drabble request from the graves of my inbox. also as a med student, i adore this idea so much

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

charles has never been the brightest tool in the shed when it came to academics. he supposes it comes with the occupation. growing up, he cared far too much about racing that he had no space left in his mind to care about school too. he was always meant to be a formula one driver so he never cared about the cell or the mitochondria.

ironically, you were the exact opposite. like him, you’ve known what you were meant to be the moment you got ahold of your first book. you’re going to be a doctor, a healer and you’ve dedicated yourself to that dream.

the human body is a beautiful machine, much like the universe. every little cell and atom circulating its vessel holds a purpose, creating a balance between life and death. it’s majestic, truly and a little bit scary. if one thing failed then the entire system could collapse and so you studied and studied and studied for ways to keep that system going, to cure ailments and diseases.

you thrive off academic validation and a minor superiority complex and yet somehow you’re the most anxious person charles has ever met.

he’s madly in love with you. this is a fact. him and his dream that required him to constantly put his life at risk and you with your dream of helping and saving people. really it was a match made in heaven. and charles is madly madly in love with you.

that’s the only reasonable explanation as he pulled himself out of his sim practice, seamlessly moving around the kitchen of your shared apartment as he prepared an ice coffee for you.

you’re drained and you’re on the verge of breaking down and so when he wrapped his arms around you and offered to help you study for your finals, you’d all but cried in gratitude.

no, charles leclerc didn’t care about the cell and mitochondria and but he cares greatly for you and so he’d study it if it meant you’d finally allow yourself to rest.

unfortunately for him, you’re way past learning about the mitochondria. instead you’re studying your worst enemy aka pharmacology.

“angiotensin receptor blockers prevent vasoconstriction and aldosterone release, causing a decrease in blood pressure and peripheral resistance,” you recite from the top of your head, still looking like you’re on the verge of tears but slightly better.

charles shook his head as he held the book you’d given him to help you study, his glasses on. “non, non, amour. it says here it’s ‘angiotensin receptor blockers selectively bind to the angiotensin I receptors in the blood vessels to prevent vasoconstriction and in the adrenal cortex to prevent release of aldosterone then lead to decrease in BP caused by decrease in peripheral resistance and blood volume.’”

you sigh again but couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped you. the first time he did it, you’d gotten frustrated but at this point, your brain is far too fried to even get annoyed at him. especially when even he looks like he’s about to start crying.

you pushed away the book from his hand, clumsily crawling over to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pushing him down so he’d be laying on the sofa and you on top of him.

“my love, i don’t need to memorize everything word for word from the book,” you explain as gently as you can for the third time. you know he’s just trying his best to help you.

“why?” he frowned. “wouldn’t it be better if you knew it exactly from the book?”

you giggled. “perhaps but no med student would ever survive memorizing twelve inch books word for word. we’d simply all break down and die.”

you hold yourself up, pushing his hair off his forehead before removing his glasses. he still looks confused but a lot of things honestly confused charles. thank god he has a smart girlfriend to explain everything to him.

“stop worrying about it,” you say. “i’ve studied enough and we both need a break.”

he sighed in relief, tightening his arms around you. “thank god i felt like my brain was put on a pressure dryer for a minute there.”

taglist: @ricsaigaslec @dragon-of-winterfell @coffeehurricanes @privcherry7 @miniminescapist @sebsdaniel @strelcka @writing-about-current-obsessions @amsofftrack @lostinketterdam @bisexual-desi @cialovessirlewis @multilovebot @lovelynikol16 @troybolton-14 @ohthemissery @dr3lover @myescapefromthislife @sunf1owerrq @the6ccnsp6cyy @t-nd-rfoot @navixfr @xjval @gridbunny

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc x you #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 one shot

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cod-fishing · 10 months ago

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When the 141 finally gets some leave, or even just a few days at one base, Ghost can sometimes go a little…overboard…during sex.

He just so rarely gets the chance to truly be alone with Soap. So often it’s quick kisses exchanged before they drop into a mission, good luck wishes from his lover pressed against the seam of his mask, or spit-lubed jerk off sessions while waiting in a shitty bunker for exfil. It’s not even that Ghost dislikes their messy, incredibly unprofessionally little tristes - quite the opposite. But Soap’s tongue on his balls while he stays in perfect sniper position doesn’t exactly inspire relaxation.

And so when he can relax - truly relax, with miles between him and the enemy, a secure enough lock to take his mask off, and access to real lube - he sometimes looses control.

It always starts with Soap below him.

And isn’t that alone just ecstasy. Johnny MacTavish, all his. Splayed out underneath him, strung out on pleasure and sweat and spit, moaning like he’s being payed for it. Soap’s voice, god, he’s always had a mouth on him, and when they’ve got the luxury of a door he doesn’t hold back. Ghost drinks it up, lapping his gasps and hitched breath out of the air, licking them from between his lips. He keeps his hands busy, running across sensitive ribs and over nipples, or notched up to the joint in Soap’s delicious little hole.

And Ghost has so much patience. So god damn much, he doesn’t even know where it comes from, some endless well in his soul that only Johnny can tap. He keeps him like that for what feels like days, floating in a little pool of pleasure.

Until he just snaps.

Fingers are ripped free of his lover, murmurs of praise traded for wordless growls. Suddenly, Soap is gasping for a new reason as Ghost flips him over, pulling his ass up and planting a crushing hand on his spine to keep him in place. He barely had the forethought to slick his cock before he’s forcing his way into Johnny’s slick, gummy heat. Arms come up around his chest to hold him in place, teeth sink into his vulnerable neck, and he sets about thoroughly ruining Johnny on his cock.

It’s not that he means to be so harsh to his lover. Despite his reputation, he never wants to harm Johnny, could never imagine it. But in these moments…it’s like his patience implodes and he just needs him.

All of him. Needs to be in him, surrounded by him, needs Johnny in every cell. It's an itch under his skin, a thrum of incesant desire, a fucking addiction.

When he feels Johnny clench around his cock, he can't even hear him anymore. All he can do is chase it, mixing their bodies and soul, licking Soap into his mouth, crushing him to his chest. It doesn't take long until finally, finally he releases into his lover, and whatever insanity that takes him is broken.

As he drifts back into the present, Johnny panting against his chest, he's always terrified. Terrified that he has hurt his Johnny, his sunshine. Short of breath himself, he runs his hands over him, grimacing at scratches and softly blooming bruises, but every time, Johnny just catches his hand.

Shut that brain off, Johnny slurs, half-way to sleep already. I loved it, I always do. Now turn the light off.

And Ghost is brought right back out of his over-active thoughts. He has plenty of time to worry about Soap being hurt. He doens't need to do it now, in the little haven of their love.

#this was inspired by a bluegiragi post on patreon...i just love passionate ghost and soap who is ready to take it in #cod mwii #soapghost #ghostsoap #cod mw2 #ghoap #simon ghost riley #tf141 #john soap mactavish #codmw2 #mywriting #cod mw3 #cod mwiii

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idkanymoreokay · 3 months ago

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I have so many thoughts on the friendship between Flynn and Cassandra, I could write a million essays on it. But something that has really jumped out to me during my current rewatch is the way these two just easily understand each other without even trying.

They talk without having to verbally communicate most of what they're saying. They don't even seem to be aware of the fact everyone else in the room is looking at them in confusion because they can't hear the unspoken parts of the conversation.

They bounce ideas off each other so easily, instantly pick up on each other's trains of thought, and practically finish the other's sentences or ideas.

These two neurodivergent geeks, who never had anyone in their life truly grasp what goes on inside their head, suddenly found someone who knows and it's like they instantly latched onto that connection.

Cassandra also has her very close friendship with the other LITs, and Flynn has his relationship with Eve, but it's their friendship with each other that lets them both explore and indulge the parts of themself that other people just don't understand.

Cassandra is definitely the one out of the LITs that is most like Flynn, both in her skills as a Librarian and also in her personality and how her lightning speed thoughts tend to get translated into her words and interactions with others. (Which is a whole other topic I'd love to dive into another day.) But, yeah, it makes so much sense why they have no trouble at all understanding each other.

(Edit: Nope, that was supposed to be the end of the post but I have too many thoughts that need to be shouted into the void. Their friendship is very important to me. So...)

Jumping back to the very beginning - During the first two episodes, Flynn is perpetually annoyed by Ezekiel and just kinda ignores Stone. But Cassandra… He's absolutely fascinated by her from the moment they first meet. He takes a minute out of their incredibly urgent life-and-death mission to discuss her being a synesthete and geek out a little over the fact she has an eidetic memory like him. And Cassandra's immediate reaction of "Yes, wow" is like she can't believe someone is capable of immediately understanding what's going on inside her head and is 100% okay with that and not at all bothered by her being "different".

And then they get to Stonehenge:

And I think this is the moment Flynn really starts to appreciate how brilliant Cassandra is, and how very much like him she is. Flynn is a fairly competitive person with a genius brain like no other, but he doesn't get upset or offended when she takes over the calculations, and even carries them out faster than he could have. If anything, he looks genuinely impressed. He instantly understands what information she needs and readily gives it to her so they can continue solving the puzzle. They immediately settle into this easy back and forth, this rapid exchange of information and clues as they work at putting together the pieces. He's able to talk to her in a way he can't talk to anyone else. It's probably been a long time (if ever) since he's interacted with someone who can keep up with him.

Even after Cassandra has betrayed Flynn -- causing him to lose his home, the only family he had left, his best friend, and potentially his life -- he instantly accepts her back on the team and even sticks up for her when the others object. At this point, she hasn't apologized, shown any indication of remorse, or had a chance to make amends. And it doesn't matter to him. "She had her reasons" - and that's enough for him. He lets her out of the cell and immediately wants to hear her plan for stopping the Brotherhood.

And I think this is the moment when Cassandra -- similar to Flynn's realization at Stonehenge -- suddenly realizes that someone else can grasp her thought process. That someone understands the way her brain works. That someone is capable of following her trains of thought and not getting lost in the ordered chaos of her mind.

Just look at her smile!! She is trying to get across what she wants to say, and she's so used to having to break things down for others and still not being understood, and here's someone who instantly picks up what she's trying to convey. Look how utterly happy and excited she is when he gets it.

I love how much they appreciate each other's genius. I love how they can communicate on a different level. I love how much they genuinely care about each other.

And I absolutely love that it's through Flynn that Cassandra manages to have her moment for redemption, because he's already clearly demonstrated that he's the one member of the group she doesn't have to prove herself to.

I just... 😭😭😭

I love that Flynn has zero people skills and a very weak grasp on the concept of friendship and yet he meets this brilliant, weird, amazing young person and pretty much instantly connects with her. Because, like her, he also spent most of his life invisible and now someone actually understands him and is already so important to him, even if it's a while yet before he'll really fully understand the concept of friendship.

I love that Cassandra has spent most of her life feeling unseen and never truly accepted by the people around her. And then she meets someone who immediately sees her and understands how her mind works and appreciates and trusts her, and who introduces her to this life of mystery and magic where she can use her talents to save the world… and she already knows that he's important to her even if she doesn't realize just how much her life is going to change because of him.

There's SO MUCH more I could say about their friendship, but I should probably channel some of it into an actual blog post at some point. For now, here's some cute moments I grabbed while getting the screenshots for this post:

#i know this fandom is dead but i had thoughts that needed to be shouted into the void #these two are very special to me #and i just love their friendship so much #flynn carsen #cassandra cillian #meta stuff #character analysis #long post #the librarians #thoughts for the void

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gladiatorcunt · 1 month ago

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- LIFE OF THE PARTY | IX.

take a breath, you’re the

cw: kinktober prompt (non con-ish, more of the aftermath), past non con threesome (between 18 year olds) w/ suguru, coercion, mentions of blood and virginity loss, past bully-ish satory, frat boy!satoru + nanami, toji (who’s the same age), sukuna, choso, & suguru, goth & tatted reader who has a vagina, non con voyeurism (?) and video sharing, implied the rest of the boys x reader (choso a little more implied), being attracted to the man who assaulted you and making poor decisions out of a need for survival, ooc!satoru, non linear moments, dead dove do not eat

please do not repost, translate or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

TWO YEARS AGO | ????’s Dorm Bathroom

“I’m the one that stuck around after I got my dick wet.”

He should’ve told you that he loved you, he should’ve shoved Suguru off of you when he had his turn and bashed his head into the tile. He should've cleaned you up and cuddled you in a bubble bath back at his apartment. What he did was wipe up the copious amounts cum and saliva up with your underwear and it wasn’t until he turned around so you could get dressed that he noticed the blood. On the floor, on your panties, dripping off his still hard cock. Satoru didn’t get to care about his heart falling out of his ass and straight into hell, because how absurd is it that this is the moment when he finally understands that his actions have consequences. Toy trains don’t run anymore when you play with them so roughly that their wheels fall off.

“I didn’t go in raw with her, ‘s not like you, I couldn't even stay hard until I looked at the pic of you I have by my bed. I brought it over.”

So why did he look at your limp body and still expect you to move? Didn’t you notice that you weren’t alone? Do you not care? His brain hadn’t caught up with his body when he ruined everything, and he wishes he had your first time in a bed, filled with only him. You weren’t paying attention to him anymore and he couldn’t understand why that made him so angry. He didn’t need you, Gojo Satoru doesn’t need anybody. He made no effort to stop the mean whispers about you from his friend group and he didn’t apologize for the way he “bullied” you in high school for having a stalker-y crush on him when you saw each other at orientation. But you looked so beautiful then, you still did when you were shaking on the cold floor in front of him. Staring all bug eyed up at the flickering artificial light, he wanted to scream when he hovered over you and your eyes didn’t focus on him.

In hindsight, that was a lot of words to use when he only needed three.

Satoru has to belong to everybody, but nothing ever has to belong to him. He has privileges that he earns by simply existing, but it can all be taken away from him with a single order. Is it so bad that he held you so tightly your bones broke and your guts spilled in between his fingers? That he wanted to stick your cells under a microscope so he could know you more intimately than anyone ever could? From the very moment he met you, he could tell that you truly understood him, and who would ever want to give that up?

If being irresponsible with money means splurging on a tattoo to make yourself feel better when you should really be buying groceries? Then you’ll put the shoe on and won’t whine when it fits. You’ve been in a god awful slump lately. Your assignments barely get turned in on time and you go weeks without brushing your teeth because you can’t be bothered to get off your ass for two minutes. So when Choso updated his tattoo shops instagram saying that they’re available for bookings, you jumped on the opportunity.

It’s your favorite place anyway, and you wouldn’t feel as comfortable getting a tattoo from someone that wasn’t working there. Even Sukuna, who makes a big show of acting all tough but will let you get pieces done for free if they’re from him. He’ll drive you home on his bike when a session runs a little late and you’re worried about walking home alone.

You have a lot of fondness for the place and its people, except for a certain gage wearing individual, but you’re trying to repress all that. He definitely doesn’t make it easy for you, he’s somehow always able to know when you’re coming and gets himself in the receptionist’s chair so you have to talk to him. He stares you down with his empty black orbs the entire time during an appointment, and the veins in his arms bulge when you inhale as the needle pierces your skin. He makes “jokes” that he'd be so gentle with you if you let him, and you don’t have the heart to speak up over a stern “Suguru.” He raises his hands in surrender and backs off, because he knows there’s always next time.

You fumble through your bag as you prepare to leave your dorm, making sure you’ve got everything. Sunscreen to re apply over your makeup later? Check. Your phone (with several texts from an unknown number flashing on the screen)? Check. Your wallet stuffed to the brim with old receipts and cards that you probably keep at home? Check.

You get almost five steps out the door before you crash into a solid chest. Your ‘oof’ is muffled by the stranger’s shirt, and when you take a step back you recognize it as a compression shirt that's gotten popular with a lot of the guys on campus. That’s why the muscle you collided with felt particularly…. firm.

“Hi, cutie! Fancy seeing you here.” Satoru chuckles, like he isn’t literally outside your dorm.

And just like that, all the good vibes and hopes you had for your day shrivel up and die.

It’s a shame that Satoru does look good in the shirt, the black sleeves cut off at the perfect point on his arms and he’s been good at knowing which trends will suit him better than the millions of other people buying into them. His eyes stand out in the dark fabric, as blue as you remember them and as terrifying. You gape at him for what must be a solid minute before your features twist up into a scowl and you’re darting around him to walk away.

“I live here, now fuck off or kill yourself, I don’t care.” You shout over your shoulder, praying that he doesn’t take off after you.

“Aw, that’s mean, babe! But I know you’d miss me too much, so I won’t do either of those. Have a good day!” You don’t hear him leave as he responds, but you’re past the point of obsessively cataloging Satoru Gojo’s every movement.

Your roommate let him in, in more ways than one.

“Alright, there we go. You’re all set, i’ll meet you at the counter and we’ll get you out of here.” Choso touch is light as a feather as he does the cleaning on your freshly tattooed skin.

A skeletal pattern over your hand, knuckles and all.

The sound of him snapping his black glove against his wrist makes you jump but he smiles, doing it again with a tender look in his eyes. He wipes down your finished tattoo and you grab your bag, heading to the counter to pay.

“You took it really well, I should've known you would when you told me you came in for a tattoo on one of the most painful areas of your body on purpose.” Choso teases, punching in your card details at the front.

They run a small parlor and are usually short staffed since most of the employees are also in the biggest frat at school and end up doing most of their appointments in whatever room’s available at a party. The shop’s not the most legal operation in general, but Choso and the others all did their apprenticeships right at 18 so they could have a place of their own as soon as possible. And so they could do their own ink and jewelry for free. Sukuna, Toji, Suguru, all of them got their piercing licenses too. Nanami’s their accountant. Satoru’s really the only one who isn't directly involved with the place.

It’s bad enough that one of your attackers always has a chance of being here, but it’s cheap and you feel a sense of comfort with Choso. That familiarity might be why you end up paying a lot less than you should, but it gives you butterflies to consider that as a possibility.

“Yeah, is it bad that I just thought it was cool? I don’t have any symbolic connection to it or anything.” You joke, thinking about how your mom would always say she’d prefer a tiny one, a flower on your shoulder or something like that for your first tattoo.

You’re a free pieces deep, each one nothing like she would have picked for yourself. You started getting them after the… incident, and it’s incredible how freeing it can be to explore your style and have everything on your body be 100% your decision.

Sukuna, the one with the closest workstation to the counter snorts, “Choso did some nice work on you, kitty.”

You roll your eyes, Choso’s younger brother never fails to hit on you whenever you find your way back into their shop.

Toji, done with his tongue piercing appointment, steadies a hand on his woozy client’s shoulder and looks over to you. “Sure did, must be why Suguru can’t keep his beady orbs off of ya. Not that I blame him.”

You stiffen, feeling said man’s eyes slither up and down your body, leaving a trail of tar and molasses that keeps you from immediately bolting. A fly preserved in amber, encrusted in gnarled old tree bark.

You don’t look back over your shoulder at him but you hear him chuckle and swat Toji upside the head, “Nah, just got a lot on my mind is all. I’m double booked. Your tat’s cool though, wish i could’ve done it in my style.”

The ‘It probably would’ve looked better’ is left unsaid.

Choso raises an eyebrow and reaches out to grab your wrist as he hands back your card, he strokes a line down your pulse point

“I think I did just fine, I'm the one you keep coming back to anyway, no matter how painful it gets.”

He ducks his head down when your heart skips a beat, wrestling with his smug grin.

A stormy look comes over Suguru’s expression but it’s gone in a flash of purple lightning when his client walks in through the door.

It’s when you say a reluctant goodbye to Choso and leave the parlor to head towards the nearest grocery store that your phone goes off.

It’s from an unknown number but you know exactly who it is, you’ve blocked Satoru multiple times and he keeps coming back with a different number.

The message is a single video without an accompanying taunt, and you really shouldn’t, but your morbid curiosity wins out.

You notice your roommate's ankle bracelet slung over his shoulder very quickly, you also see more of her stretched out pussy than you ever wanted to.

Satoru chuckles behind the camera, zooming in on where their bodies are joined, he’s fucking her raw and her folds look startlingly red. He doesn’t speak, doesn’t bullshit through any bad dirty talk or narration for the audience (of one). A blessing, all things considered, he loved to yap your ears off when he took you. Satoru Gojo is rarely ever silent, even when deep down he doesn’t feel much like talking.

But he’s gone quiet as a church mouse, the only sounds coming from your phone are sticky smacks of bare flesh against bare flesh and your roommate’s muffled moans. Anytime she tries to scream, Satoru tightens his grip on her mouth and slaps her tits, which becomes a vicious cycle.

The video shows his torso at an angle, fat pecs and chiseled abs glistening as they clench. He has a fucking smoking hot body, one that you wish you weren’t forced to know more intimately than the girl who in that moment is currently all up on it.

You watch when she cums around him, a car running into a tree, but you click out of the video when Satoru cums inside her, a cargo train crashing through the car AND the tree.

Your mind is as scattered as those bits of debri and human flesh, welded to the tracks but you can feel movement above and around you.

Nanami’s hand cups your shoulder when you’re distracted during your study session later that day, he’s tutoring you in french for free and you’ve taken absolute advantage of the opportunity. It’s just one of those fuzzy days for you, especially since you can’t stop thinking of the video.

“Everything okay?” He murmurs, leaning closer with worry flickering in his warm eyes.

You nod and shrug your shoulders, “Yeah, just a little tired. Been really stressed lately.”

He wishes you would let him help with that.

Sometimes Satoru plops down on his ten thousand dollar leather couch and imagines what it would be like to kill Suguru. It’s what he should’ve done, years ago back in that dingy bathroom with a singular lightbulb that you could never quite tell if it was going to stay lit. He could’ve charged into the other man’s body and smashed his skull into the mirror until clumps of his black hair fell on the floor and blended in with shoddy tile work. All he’d be able to hear is your pitiful hiccups, his blood would be rushing to and fro in his ears. He would’ve

Other times, Satoru imagines what it would be like to kill himself. In front of you of course, because even if he’s doing it as a sacrifice to your shrine, you’d never forget him. Trauma can do funny things to your brain, if he left you alone you might hide him under several layers of heavy fog. If you won’t love him, at least let him be remembered by the only person he thinks he’s ever cared about. You’d be happy if he stayed away, but you wouldn’t be safe with anyone else but him, so he’ll take all the screaming and throwing shit at him that’s to come.

As long as the tiffany blue box tucked away in his nightstand isn’t one of those things.

It’s why he calls his usual people and pays a good chunk of cash to throw your roommate off their shoulders like a sack of potatoes and kill her somewhere private. He has a chemistry class in fifteen minutes, and a fraternity meeting right after. Satoru’s annoyed at having to make that long trek between buildings, but it’d probably be a good way to work the energy off. What’s-her-face was really starting to piss him off, snoring as loud as a vacuum cleaner on the pillow next to him. She couldn’t even make him cum, but that’s to be expected, she’s just not you.

He didn’t hit it raw though, that’s a privilege reserved solely for his (future) baby.

When he graduates, goes to dental school, and becomes a dentist, he thinks it’d be so romantic to be the one you went to. Cleaning your teeth, praising you for how well you’ve been brushing and flossing, leaning down for an upside down spider man kind of kiss when the appointment’s over. If you’re sporting a cute little rounded belly and an angelic glow during one of those appointments, well, don’t tell anybody what he needs to imagine to fall asleep with anything resembling a genuine smile.

Shit, he hopes Choso remembers to re-stock the orange juice and Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Nanami’s been pissed ever since Satoru finished them without asking, now they have to share the Captain Crunch Berries. Hiroguma doesn’t mind the turn of events. All Satoru can do is wonder which one you’d like more if you stayed over at the house.

“Shh, shh, shh. You’re alright, cutie. Just a little longer, this pussy’s so tight I'm gonna cream it in no time, ‘kay?” He whispers into your hair, his dick pistoning in and out of your sopping cunt, hunting you down even as he’s currently inside you.

He tells you these things, because of course Satoru Gojo knows you and your own body better than you do. The only time he’s ever touched it and it’s like this, violating you for his own pleasure and accidentally discovering what fuels yours along the way.

You’re crying, because he’s learned that despite your prickly personality you like soft touches and sweet words, but don’t hold it against him. He’s a horny teenage boy, it’s all trial and error. It could be a lot worse for you, he couldn’t not eaten you out first and just plowed your ass like he was gonna die tomorrow.

You feel like you might, watching your blood drip down onto the dirty bathroom tile, you’re a leaky faucet now. Rusted and having so little left to give but you keep on giving (and taking) because there’s nothing else you can do.

Satoru spills into your guts with no warning, fucking down into you like you’re nothing but a pocket pussy. You’re just so pretty, sobbing and clawing at his shoulders. He’ll wear the red scratch marks with pride, maybe ask Suguru to lick them and tell him what they taste like, share it with him to get the little remnants of your bitten nails down his throat.

He climbs off of you and picks up his phone, his fingers sticky with your juices make the device slip and slide in his grip but he manages to not drop it. You may as well be dead on the floor but Satoru’s too busy texting the video of what you just did to Suguru. He smirks and his cock twitches, imagining the look on his best friend’s face, the envy.

He never tells you if the goal was to make Suguru want to join, you never want to know.

When you come back, black and red rose petals poke out under your door.

You snap, slamming your door open and gawking at the audacity of Satoru Gojo, nestled on the covers of your bed like he was waiting for his baby to get home from a stressful day out in this big scary city.

You don’t remember the questions you ask even as you’re asking them, all you’re retaining is the blush on his face and how pretty his blue eyes are when he’s about to get everything under the sun because it might as well have a ‘Paid for by the Gojo Family’ plague on it.

You’re so fucking tired, and you put up a fight but that’s all out of you now. There are multiple ways to make something go away, like absorbing into your body so at least you’re partially in control.

“I’ll forgive you if you’re good and keep your filthy hands to yourself until I tell you otherwise, okay?”

He obeys and sits perched on the edge of the bed, watching as you hover above a glass dildo purposefully smaller than he is. You bite your lip, lubing it up until your hand is slippery and you keep losing your grip.

Satoru imagines this it at a frat party instead, and the music is pouring from the open windows as people fuck around outside and inside the house, drinking from cheap plastic cups and novelty shot glasses. He’d take your hand and lace his fingers through yours, taking you upstairs to his room.

Your rum and coke would loosen you up, and you’d grind in his bed to the beat bumping through the floor. Satoru would bury his face in your neck and beg you to let him touch you like he really wants to. You’d sigh and he’d grin, skirting his long fingers under the edge of your lace panties and fingering you right there before picking you up and throwing you flat on your back.

He’d promise he’d pull out, he thought he had more condoms in his nightstand, you wouldn’t care and would beg to stay inside no matter what. You’d have a little Toru Jr. a couple semesters later.

But that universe doesn’t exist. You’re riding a small toy to an unsatisfying orgasm and Satoru just has to sit there and watch you, leaving your clit neglected and your mouth unoccupied by his eager kisses. You spit at him that you should just pull the dildo out of you and ram it up his ass without warning, but he’s so desperate to chain you up and tie you down that he’d probably like it. You only want to do something he wouldn’t like right now, a swan song for your dignity and self respect. It’s been a few years since those things were once part of you too.

Your breath hitches and your eyes get teary, Satoru can’t help but to shuffle over to where you’re kneeling on the bed. You moan as his fingertips come into contact with your swollen clit, and laugh deliriously when he perks up like his dad just surprised with a new car to have someone else drive for him.

“So fucking typical.” You whine, bouncing on the dildo and wordlessly begging him to keep playing with your bud. “Can’t ever do something you don’t wanna do, always to be someone else’s job.”

The blinking light in the corner of your bookshelf will come in handy when Satoru’s fast asleep in your bed and you’re sending a video of your own to Suguru.

You’ll both wake up to someone furiously pounding on your door, the world will spin round and round only to end up at the same place.

A frown flickers across his face at the pure death in your tone. He wants to know your favorite colors and what you love to eat and what makes every stressor in life fade away, but all he knows is what you look like when you cry yourself to smithereens while you cum.

“You’re the best at everything, honey.” He softly chuckles, water laps at his hairline, he’s almost drowning.

That isn’t quite true clearly, you’re not the best at stopping yourself from being assaulted, like that’s something you be and therapy’s something you can win.

“Thank you, Toru. so are you.”

That is true, for better or for worse as the saying goes.

128 notes · View notes

cry4mina · 22 days ago

Text

Take Me Back to Eden - Euclid - Part 7

Take Me Back to Eden Series Page

Angst/Fluffy Moments

Word Count: 12k

Summary: After the events of the last chapter, reader finds themselves in a spiral of self hatred as they wait for their beloved to wake up, unbeknownst to them - someone is lurking in the shadows.

TW: Hospitals, spiraling, big sads, talks of death, some happy moments!, knives, talks of guns, talks of abusive relationships, broken glass, aaaaaaand talks of drinking and cheating. I think that's everything?

AN: Two more parts after this one and the story will be complete! I feel like I say this all the time but I never really thought this story would evolve into the series that it is now and I'm so grateful for all your support and kind words along the way! <3 <3 I truly hope you all have a lovely evening! I'd love to hear your predictions on what you all think is going to happen next!

A sharp jolt crackling through your chest wakes you violently, like lightning crawling through every vein cardiovascular system, forcing your eyes open. The fluorescent lights shine down on you, the beeping of machines, someone crying, and the rocking movement overwhelm your senses.

“We got her back! Okay, Y/n! You need to stay with me now, okay?” concern laced in the voice as that spoke to you.

Your vision is still blurred, eyes barely opening when you use as much energy as you can to keep yourself from passing out again. A familiar voice breaks through the machine’s whirring.

“Is she going to be okay?!” Momo is frantically barking at the EMT, seemingly trying to get information from him but unable to hold back the panic in these circumstances.

The rocking of the larger vehicle wakes you up just a little more but not enough to be full cognizant, bringing nausea along with it. Body unmoving as your eyes fight to keep the sliver of sight they have when your brain flashes the last few memories you had before you passed out…

Nayeon, with a smoking gun in her hand pointed past you.

Mina with crimson running down her torso and going pale…

“Mina?” croaked out between heavy breaths from the oxygen machine placed on your face.

“Wait!” Momo snaps at everyone who’s speaking around her, you hear silence again.

“Y/n?” her hand fills yours, feeling her lean into you to make sure she can hear what you’re saying. It must be pretty bad if she’s reacting this way.

“Where…is…Mina?” gravelly and with everything you could muster.

Momo sniffles, you can feel her head down and it on your arm. She sighs heavily before bringing her head back up, aware that she might not have time to fully explain what’s happening. The unanswered question haunts you for a moment.

“She’s on her way to the hospital. You both lost a lot of blood…they don’t know….they don’t know if she’s going to make it, Y/n. She was…shot in a pretty severe place…” tears spilling from her, sobbing at the information she had.

Tears roll down your face, reviving the crystalized blood coating your skin from the circumstances you were just in, dripping and reigniting it’s liquid form as it spills down around you.

If Mina…doesn’t survive…

The dread consumes you instantly. Would it be your fault if she didn’t make it? You were the one who was with her, you were the one who was supposed to protect her, but was it enough? Trying got you here…trying got you in this ambulance with both you and her getting rushed to the emergency room.

How could you stomach losing Mina like this? At the hands of one of her best friends and over…you?

“Nayeon…” whispered through the sadness and the anxiety filled thoughts that consumed every cell in your body.

The silence between her sniffling tells a lot, but not enough.

“Momo…do the police have Nayeon?” a little more aggression out of you, even in this state. You want to make sure that she can’t touch you or Mina ever again.

“Where is she?!” hissed out in an anger that Momo has never seen from you, even in the state of hurt you were in, the rage permeated the vessel you were trapped in.

The only two things you could feel in this moment: Fear and Fury. They walk hand in hand through your mind while patiently waiting for someone to answer your question.

Machines around you start furiously beeping again. Eyes still fighting to stay open but you’re so exhausted that staying awake feels impossible with the frames of darkness around your vision.

“Ma’am, I understand that you want to speak with her but we need to make sure she stays awake.” the EMT started putting needles in your arms.

“Get the crash cart ready! We might lose her again!”

Again?

Momo is in hysterics, understandably so. Wondering how much she witnessed, it would be hard for anyone to see someone they cared about in the position you were in. Imagining the lasting impact of finding the mess of the room that it all happened in, you sigh as the tears keep flowing.

All of this is too much. Too much on everyone around you.

Too much on Mina.

Too much on you.

You're slowly drifting into a dream-like state when what little blood you have runs absolutely cold, the ice that froze hell over ransacks your veins expeditiously. Eyes flying open as your heart pumps faster and faster, a chemically impersonated panic attack brought on to keep you awake.

“Y/n, listen to me. We are on the way to the hospital and it’s imperative you stay awake. I gave you an adrenaline shot so your heart might race. This is normal. Okay?” his voice is fading in and out of your range of hearing.

“So…tired…” breathlessly escapes you.

“Y/n, we are almost there, just please listen and stay awake.” Momo’s sobbing sounds physically painful and drenched in fear.

Fighting as much as you can, you try to count the lights to stay awake, forcing yourself to focus on anything that wasn’t the weight of your eyes or the pounding in your chest.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Suddenly, you’re pulled feet first out of the vehicle, continuing to try and count things as your eyes fight you.

Vision goes as black as the night sky above you while you’re being pushed through the hospital, feeling the gurney bumps over the tracks of the automatic doors you hear glide open.

“We need 2 liters of O negative, stat!” shouted from your right hand side.

Your hearing is fading, replaced by the ringing that you got familiar with when the gun went off. A wave of panic swings through you, hands going up to reach for anything you could grab. This takes all of your energy and you fall into a deep calm sleep.

—

Void. Darkness. Silence.

Familiarity seeps in through your pores as your eyes calibrate to the surroundings, deja vu reflecting what once was in your mind, yet again. The same small metal table, the same figures sitting around it.

Sighing, unable to hear the huff of your wit’s end, you start to walk. Knowing exactly who the figures are before you even approach the table. Cautiously walking towards the shadows sat, almost waiting for something. Maybe, someone?

Both turning their head at you, the faces exactly who you expected, Mina and Nayeon. Mina smiles at you, the glow of her illuminating the endless ether. You have to stop moving to fully take in the essence of her.

Long dark wavy hair that frames her face and torso, welcoming eyes that melt you in the warmth she radiates, that small smile she is giving to you, and the way she gracefully reaches her hand towards you…peace.

The calm washes over you, just like the last time, as you approach her. The other figure at the table shows itself again to be Nayeon, eyes black, the smell of sulfur, the rage emitting off of her skin and the possessiveness that she always carried try to overshadow the care that was brought by Mina.

“Oh, Y/n, it’s great of you to join us.” ethereally leaves Mina’s lips.

“Yes, isn’t it pleasant to have my personal whore here?” hiss between Nayeon’s razor sharp teeth, contorted voice layered in anger and hatred.

“Don’t.” stern and powerful as it leaves the angel's lips.

A bright stream of light beams down from the nothingness, penetrating Nayeon’s chest cavity. She wails out into the void, breathing heavily.

“Do you think you can just take her from me? She’s my favorite piece of meat!” arms lengthening, mouth largening as Nayeon’s body contorts into a tall, lanky, sharp looking demon. Horns growing and snapping into shape, hooves clomping down into the cement harshly as she stakes her claim.

Mina is unaffected by this gesture of power, sending another few beams of light through Nayeon, setting what they touch on fire. Nayeon screams, loud enough to shake the table and it’s settings, rumbling them onto the floor.

Bloodied barbed wire shoots up from the floor, alive in its movements as it wraps around Nayeon’s wrists, slamming her into the ground and tightening with every second. More barbs shoot up and fix themselves around her torso, pulling her even further into the floor.

A demonic shriek can be heard through the hellfire and brimstone, Nayeon crumbles into stone before you, leaving nothing you coated in this dust and ash.

Mina is calm, cool, and collected. Standing up and yanking on your hand, you swing around and land chest first against Mina.

It starts drizzling pure clean water, Mina just holding you close while you look up to observe the rain falling from nothing. It starts picking up, washing the dust off your body.

Both of you soaking wet, standing in this mysterious rain after the monster has been slayed - there’s only one thing left to do in this fairy tale.

Boldly grabbing the sides of her face and bringing her lips to yours. Her eyes were surprised at this gesture but reciprocated the moment of passion before pulling back.

“Wake up” barely over a whisper and in a voice that isn’t hers.

“Please, Y/n, wake up!” Momo?

“WAKE! UP!”

“Don’t worry.” in her own voice, echoing against the walls of your brain before the light around Mina shines its brightest, consuming both of you.

—

Blinking ferociously, your eyes open to bright fluorescence hanging above you.

“Oh thank GOD” Momo throws herself on you before you can even understand what is happening, you wince at the weight of her unsure of what your wounds were.

“Sorry, Sorry!” She hugs you tightly before removing herself from you. Dahyun is seated, allowing you time to get your bearings before coming over to you and placing her hand in yours.

“We are so happy to see you’re awake!” smiled lightly, eyed red and swollen.

She has been crying…

“Where…is…Mina?” croaked out through dry lips and barely any energy as the worry for her consumes you.

“She’s in surgery…” Momo sniffles at the words she spoke.

There was an uneasiness about the way her voice wavered.

“…what did the doctors say?”

“The bullet penetrated her lung…they’re going in to remove it…She lost a lot of blood, Y/nnie…There’s a good chance that she might not…make it.” choking on the last few words as she forced them out.

The droplets fall from your eyes when you register what she’s said…Mina might not make it?

Thinking about the ambulance, thinking about how Momo gave this information to you there as well but it didn’t really connect in your brain until now…This event of Mina getting injured was avoidable…If you just kept your distance from her when Nayeon went crazy, maybe she wouldn’t be where she is….Maybe Mina would’ve been safe from her…

The pit of your stomach flips, all the stress of what happened has come back full force and is slamming all of your fear back into your chest, making friends with the pounding of the headache you have.

“Nayeon?” puffed out of your weak body, wondering if shew as far away and in police custody.

“Is she awake?” an all too familiar voice breaks the moment.

You look up to see who it was, a bouquet of lotus flowers covering the face of the person. They are placed down on the small table at the foot of the bed and the person steps out from behind the display, revealing herself to be Ms. Park Jihyo.

Tensing immediately, you struggle to lift yourself up higher in a move of defense. Momo sees this and puts her hand on your shoulder.

“Just hear her out, you might be surprised at what she says.” smiling and nodding before heading out of the room with Dahyun.

Jihyo stands in the room, looking at the ground before she grabs one of the uncomfortable foldable chairs from the walls of the room and scoots it closer to you.

You try to keep a straight face in her presence but can’t help but shed a few tears as this human who knowingly hurt you sits in front of you, elbows on her knees and hands together as she tries to plead her case.

“I’m sorry, Y/n…I know that this is a lot and has been since everything came out but I think I need to tell you what happened the night that rock flew through your window.” she makes eye contact with you, showing a serious demeanor as she shifts back into her seat trying to find some sense of comfort in the discomfort of this situation.

“Nayeon was…violently upset when we ran into you and Mina at the cafe. She was punching the dashboard of my car the entire way to your apartment…she still had your location. I didn’t like that she did that but honestly…” Jihyo’s voice cracked, eyes reflecting something you had never seen in her before back to you as she forced herself to make eye contact through the discomfort that sat on her chest.

“…I have always kind of…been scared of her, you know? Like she has this intensity that’s just really hard to say no too and when she was raging about seeing you and Mina together…I just didn’t know what to do so I listened to what she said. We went to your apartment and we watched you and Mina walk in together…Nayeon got…quiet and told me to leave so I did.”

Fear, her eyes were reflecting fear.

Jihyo is visibly shaken and remorseful through reliving the events as she spoke them to you, rubbing her hands up and down her face aggressively to smear the intensity of the conversation off.

“We went back to the apartment you both lived in together…I tried to calm her down by massaging her shoulders but she…got angry when I called her “baby”...she told me I would never be you and then she pushed me to the floor…a-a-ggressively.” Shuttering through the dread that was weighing her down.

“After that…Nayeon just got up and left.” Choking on her words as the spilt from her lips.

Jihyo was practically sobbing while sharing the trauma she had endured that you were unaware of. Knowing full and well that Nayeon was an abuser to you, the only moment you really thought she could be a monster to Jihyo as at the cafe…when Jihyo was crying behind her as she tried to seduce you again…in front of her.

She had been affected by this situation just as much as you had. Her eyes hold similar pain that yours did when you and Nayeon first split. It was hard to see, even on someone you were upset with.

“When she came home…things happened…and the cops showed up. She fake cried and told them that I made her go with her, that I was violent and controlling of her. She said that I was the one who had the idea…I tried to tell them it wasn’t me, but they didn’t listen because she was hysterically bawling her eyes out and acting like I had threatened her. They took me to jail after that…she called me after I got bailed out and told me that she was breaking up with me because she was going to exterminate the problem…so she could be with you.” completely serious in her tone, even through the trembling of her voice.

“So you called the police?” still raspy in the way you asked, the puzzle pieces have finally found their place.

“Yes. I called the police and Momo to tell them what was going on…I tried to call you and Mina but neither of you answered…Y/n, I’m so sorry. I really am. I truly loved the friendship we had and I don’t know if we can ever get back to that but I'm very willing to try to fix this…that time we spent at the park, everything I said, I meant. I never wanted to hurt you in this. I just felt so stuck.” sobbing as she makes her apology, genuinely distraught about all of this.

“Hyo…I need to know how this actually started. How did you and her end up…together?” a small ache in your chest reminds you of the confrontation in the elevator. The anger and hatred you felt then was still present to some degree.

“The drunk one night stand part was true…but it was before she met you.” her eyes down at the ground, a semblance of a smile lingers on her face at the nickname you called her.

“She told me when you met and said that she had no intention of it being serious with you. We went on tour and Nayeon couldn’t put her phone down, always texting you and calling you on Facetime… I knew that it was something serious then but when we got back and had that party, it was just different.” making eye contact with you again, voice quivering while she’s holding back even more tears.

“That’s why I called you that night…because I thought you were who she wanted and not me. I just wanted her to be happy. But when we were out of town…she would purposefully ask to be roomed with me. We would get drunk, it would happen again and we would just pretend like it didn’t.”

“My feelings got involved pretty early on and I told her but she was insistent on being with you and I respected that. She would tell me that you broke up and then when we got back, she would say you were together again.”

“Jihyo, this is the first and only time we ever broke up…” whispered to her in the smallest breath, hoping she wouldn’t hear you or at least wishing you didn’t have to tell her the whole truth.

It was hard to see her like this, baring her soul for you to see, dripping in guilt and anger.

“I know that now. I know that she was using me for when you weren’t around. But you can see why I had a hard time getting away from her…and she wasn’t ever as violent as she was the night that we saw you at the cafe…I think that’s when it truly clicked for me that she was dangerous.” Jihyo’s breathing is picking up, she’s on the verge of a panic attack when you see the blood under her nails and knuckles that were bruised.

“Jihyo…what happened to your hands?” whispered in fear of the answer.

“I came to the banquet…when I heard that first shot and saw everyone rushing out of the building, I saw Momo trying to get the members out a side door. We saw each other and I pointed to the room. She ran over and we went in together.” her voice is trembling as she tells you more of what happened.

“When I saw you passed out in Mina’s arms…and what Nayeon did to Mina, I got so angry.” She’s in hysterics now, trying to steady her own breathing and self regulate so she can tell you the information you were owed.

“I tried so hard to get her to stop…and put the gun down…I don’t even know where she got that fucking gun. I punched her to try and get her to stop but she just kept going…I got the gun from her, and was trying to fight her off but she tackled me to the floor. She got on top of me and choked me…I couldn’t get her off me, Y/n.”

Jihyo is now sobbing, trembling and looking very nauseous. Completely drowning in herself when she finally releases the memory that is burnt in her brain for the rest of her life.

“Y/n…I shot her.”

“What?”

“I…shot Nayeon…”

“…Jihyo, you shot Nayeon?”

“It was the only way I could stop her…she would’ve killed me if I didn’t…I feel so guilty. I feel so fucking guilty.”

Jihyo’s face falls into her hands, violently sobbing at the fact that she killed someone she loved, even if that love wasn’t returned.

The sting of this information was something incomprehensible, a grief blending inside your torso, the gut wrenching twist of your stomach, ruining the home where the butterflies once lived and flourished for Im Nayeon.

Your ex-girlfriend of three years.

The girl you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with.

She’s just…gone.

Even with everything that happened between you and Nayeon, you are having a hard time wrapping your thoughts around her being dead. Barely only finding out about how crazy she actually was, the version of her that was sweet and loving still saturates the predatory acts and violent tendencies she exposed to everyone in the end.

Shifting up in your seat weakly, you rotate your legs off the side of the bed. Bare toes touching the cool ground as you try to stand up. Feeling every single bruise and wound left in the altercation. Jihyo stands with you, putting her arms out so she can help you balance yourself.

Without hesitation, you pull her in for the hug you both needed. Crying in each others arms as you both try to process the death of your abuser.

“I’m so sorry Y/n. I’m so fucking sorry.” wept into your shoulder.

“I am too, Jihyo. I am too.” sniffling while you release all irritation you had with Jihyo. She was a victim of Nayeon, just like you. Maybe there was hope for that trust had, to be built again.

Maybe.

“Y/n? Can we come in?”

Both of you turn to look at her, when the entirety of Twice minus Nayeon and Mina walk in with sorrow in their eyes and more flowers in their hands. Worry being on the forefront of their minds. We are all grieving this loss, we are all fearful of the future.

“Jihyo…”

“Yes, Y/n?”

“Thank you.”

Momo is smiling behind the crowd, holding Dahyun’s hand and watching as the girls come in and sit scattered around the room. Jihyo still in the chair near the bed you crawled back in, Sana sitting at the end of that bed across from her, Chae in the big comfortable chair by the window, Jeongyeon is standing and looking a little anxious and Tzuyu pulls up a seat next to Jihyo.

“How long was I asleep?” not knowing what day it is, or what time it was. The sun seems to be either rising or setting and you can’t tell which.

“About 12 hours.” Momo chimes in from the doorway, checking her phone to see the time. She’s got a weird air about her, something is off.

“Momo, what’s wrong?” knowing she’d normally be as close to you as possible in this situation.

“I’m waiting for a phone call.” anxiously blurted across the room.

Everyone is silent with their heads down, whatever this was putting Momo on edge was eating at everyone in the room.

“The police don’t speak Japanese here…so I had to call Mina’s parents…” another piece of your heart breaks off for every syllable of the sentence.

Her parents…her brother…

Dread sinks your heart down to your stomach, weighing like cement in your gut. Skin prickling into a million stipples, remembering the last moment you saw Mina.

Tears rolling down her cheeks.

Blood spilling from her chest.

Then darkness.

Unable to help yourself, you start sobbing uncontrollably.

This was all so overwhelming, trying to process everything that had happened. Nayeon with the gun pointed at you, the person you were with for so long had not only threatened your life, but wounded you beyond what you thought possible.

Weeping as you think about what she had put Mina through. Mina just wanted to be there for you and you found some safety, Nayeon tried to take that away and might’ve been successful…

The doctor walks into the room, looks around and sees all these people around you crying with you and his eyes widen, intimidated by the 8 people who peered up at him as he entered.

“Uh…I can come back later…if you’d prefer.” raising the clipboard by the side of his head, pointing it back towards the door nervously.

“No no, it’s okay. You can come in.” waving him into the room so he can say what he needs to.

“Is it okay if I talk about your medical diagnosis in front of…uhm…” gesturing to the girls scattered around the room.

“Yes, that’s completely fine.” assuring him that he could continue.

“Okay, Ms. Y/n…so we are looking at a concussion, you’ve got 16 stiches on your scalp, 3 broken ribs, and a few lacerations and bruises. I suspect you’ll be sore for a while but you should make a full recovery. You should thank whoever kept the pressure on the back of you head…you had an artery grazed in the…incident and that pressure saved your life.“ The Doctor hesitates as he reads off the clipboard, it looks like he’s wondering if that was the right thing to say.

“I’ve written a few prescriptions for the pain and swelling, but you should be good to be released within the next few hours. Do you have any questions for me?” clicking his pen and putting his clipboard down by his side.

That’s a lot of information to digest.

“I do but I don’t think you’ll be able to tell me…” softly stated back to him.

“I take it it’s about your friend? The one you came in with?”

Nodding your head as the tears fall again, you’re too worried about Mina to not try to get some information out of him.

“I can’t really tell you anything specific without permission, I would need permission from the emergency contact to do so.” the Doctor sighs,

“You have my permission.” Momo raises her hand from across the room, nodding to him, respectfully.

The Doctor nods his head back, his body language shifts into something less pleasant.

“Ms. Mina is out of surgery and the surgeon over seeing her said that it went very well.” He moves his weight to the other leg, crossing his arms and looking at the floor.

“She lost a lot of blood…even with a blood transfusion she wasn’t very stable, we revived her a few times on the table.”

Everyone is frozen at this news, breath held and the whirring and beeping of the machines around you is the only thing keeping all of you present.

“She had a punctured lung from the bullet wound in her chest. We did manage to remove the bullet and patch her up just fine, but with her being unstable…we had to put her in a medically induced coma.”

Everyone gasps in unison, the worry behind everyone’s eyes reflects the deep love of a friend and loved one, who is now in a state of deep sleep for an unknown amount of time.

Jihyo takes over now, directing the conversation and asking what we all wanted to know.

“When will she wake up?”

“Well, that depends…we have her on a 24 hour watch to make sure she can stabilize on her own. She’s on a ventilator to insure proper oxygen intake. Once she stabilizes, we can wake her.”

The Doctor looks around the room and sees many sets of distraught eyes looking back at him.

“I know this is a lot of information, but rest assured we are doing everything we can. I’ll give you some space, but Miss Y/n, I’ll have the nurse bring in your release paperwork soon.” He turns out of the room, swiftly walking to where his next patient was.

It’s silent, everyone can’t seem to wrap their heads around what is happening, yourself included. Everything that happened to Mina would’ve never taken place if you hadn’t hung out with her. If Nayeon hadn’t seen you together she would be okay…

Sobbing quietly to yourself, the girls look at you with saddened eyes, Momo knowing exactly what’s going through your head. Walking up to you and sitting down, she wraps an arm around you, letting you cry openly on her shoulder.

Everyone follows suite, walking up and wrapping their arms around everyone to create a group hug that all of you desperately needed.

“Please, let me have some space.” quietly said into Momo’s neck.

“What do you mean, Y/n? We are all here for you.” confusion in her words, cocking her brow at you to try and understand what you meant.

“This is all my fault.” whispered through the cascade of bitter hatred for yourself that spilled from your eyes.

“No, it isn’t your fault Y/n! This is Nayeon’s fault.” Sana insists, mad that you would even think that you had anything to do with the outcome of this.

Believing that was something you would never do.

“Y/n, it’s so obvious that you care about Mina…You would never intentionally put her in harms way.” Jihyo rubs your shoulder trying to ease you of the mind set that was turning your brain into a web of connections that was weaved in hatred for yourself and Nayeon.

“If you and Nayeon had never seen us at this cafe, it would’ve never happened…I should’ve just ordered in that night. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” choking on your tears, coughing, and wincing at the searing pain that erupted from the contractions of your muscles around your broken ribs.

The feeling accumulated from everything that happened poured out of you like steaming lava, burning and aching your chest as the rage of another thing you care about possibly being ripped out from underneath you catches fire under your heart.

Momo is holding you against her, rocking you and trying to comfort you as Dahyun ushers the other girls out into the hallway to let you have this moment.

“Hey, hey. Look at me…” Trying to catch your eyes as they drift to the floor.

“…I said look at me, Y/nnie!” Momo grabs your faces and forces you to look at her, tears heavily coating your cheeks as your eyes blur at the pressure you’re putting on yourself to hold yourself accountable for nothing done wrong.

“You didn’t do anything. Nothing. Not a single thing to deserve any of this. None of this is your fault. Not even close.” pulling you back in immediately for another hug that sucks the life out of you.

Mourning the memory of a Nayeon that never existed and mourning what Mina is going through just from being too close to you…It was too much for you to handle in the state you were in. Physical and emotional wounds compounding into a broken person being held up by those around you.

Just as you’re about to speak, Momo’s phone rings. She let’s go of your hug in a panic to look to see who it is.

“Shit, I have to take this. I’ll be right back.” jumping up off the bed to step out of the room, her eyes brimming with tears as she answers and steps away.

Alone with your thoughts, you think back to how safe Mina made you feel and how unsafe she was when she was with you. How could you have allowed this to happen? Why weren’t you shot instead of her?

A nurse walks in while you’re lost in these thoughts.

“Alright Ms. Y/n, will you please sign these release papers? I’ve brought your medications in this bag so you should be all good to go home. The doctor suggests plenty of rest until your ribs heal in 2-6 weeks.” cheerfully beaming at you like you hadn’t just been through the most traumatic event of your life.

How could someone be so…sunshine at a time like this?

Signing the documents she brought you quickly, she points to a bag that hung off the side of one of the folding chairs.

“Your friend, Ms. Minatozaki, brought you a change of clothes…what you wore to the event is considered evidence now…You are free to change and go home.” The nurse triple checks your paperwork and walks out of the room, closing the door behind her, leaving you to get changed.

Standing up, wobbling as you gain your balance and wincing at your weight of your own body. Gripping the chair that Jihyo left next to your bed, you grab the bag and tug out the clothes that she brought for you.

Knowing that Momo was the only one with a spare key to your apartment, you knew that Sana would have gone and done exactly what she said to do. Your favorite pair of sweatpants and a hoodie that looked unfamiliar…it’s not one you recall.

Picking it up, you pull the arms to the side and take a good look at the sweater.

“A catholic school in Japan?” confused at the lettering on the sweater, you lay it on the chair and slip on the pair of sweats.

Reaching down slowly to grab the hoodie, you lift your arms up - trying not to cause further damage to yourself and cautiously let it glide down into you.

As the fabric passes over your face, you take in the smell and instantly know who it belongs to.

Mina.

Lifting the neck of the sweater, you take a long inhale of her scent and a calm washes over you that you had become accustom to.

“I wish you were awake.” softly spoken to yourself, wiping a tear from your cheeks with the sleeve.

Momo comes through the door again, her eyes wide when she sees the sweater.

“That must have been Sana’s doing…” a small chuckle as she sees you’re dressed.

“Are you ready to go home?”

“I’m not going home.” pushing past her to get to the hallway.

“Y/n, you need to rest.” concern lays thick in the words as she cocks her head at you, seemingly frustrated at your lack of cooperation.

“She didn’t leave me…I’m not leaving her.” taking a slow step to not lose your footing.

Momo watches as you slug down the hallway to sit with the other girls who are patiently waiting for Mina to wake up. Sana smiles up at you when you sit next to her, instinctively putting her arm around you to support some of your weight.

“Thank you for this.” tugging on the front of Mina’s hoodie, trying to smile up at her but you end up biting your lip to hold in the tears.

“Sana…”

“Yeah, Y/nnie?”

“I’m scared.” the breathed statement is so quiet that’s it’s a miracle she heard it.

Leaning in to hug you, she tightens as much as she can without hurting you. Both of you have tears dripping down you face - sharing the moment of fear with each other and some how strengthening the bond that was already in place.

—

Days pass like it’s nothing. Sitting still in that same hospital chair while the world goes on around you. No sleeping, no eating…simply waiting for the doctors to say anything about Mina and her state.

Food is offered to you at every meal, you decline it. The nausea of the unknown clouds your stomach and the idea of any flavor makes you sick. You can only focus on Mina.

Momo walks up and sits down next to you, she rubs your back and you snap out of the dissociative state you sat in for days on end. The trance breaking leaves you realizing how much time had gone by and how much you had been neglecting yourself.

“Hey, come with me?” offering her hand to you and leading you to the room where Mina was.

Two older people, seemingly her parents are sitting in the room across from the bed where Mina sleeps, with tears streaming down their faces.

The man looks up at you, standing and then bowing to you - you return the bow as best as you can, before he starts saying something in Japanese to Momo and then looking at you.

“He wants you to know that he’s seen you sitting outside…he wants you to sit in with him and Mrs. Myoui from now on.” Dr. Myoui says something else to Momo and she translates the same.

“He knows about you and Nayeon, he is really sorry that this happened to you and wants you to know that he doesn’t blame you. “ Momo’s voice cracks as he begins speaking again, he seems to get teary eyed as he continues on, sniffling and clearing his throat as he tries to stay strong.

“He says that Mina had spoken about you…and that she really cares for you. Judging the state you are in, injuries and all, it seems that you really care about her too…and he wants you to be here with them because it’s what she would’ve wanted.”

Stepping up to Dr. Myoui, your jaw quivers trying to hold the tears inside but you can’t help it. He leans in and hugs you gently, all you can do is weep in his arms.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so so-sorry!”

Momo translates it and he offers reassurance that Momo translates for you.

“Please go home and eat, get some sleep and when you come back we will be waiting for you here, okay? If anything happens, I’ll call you.” Half translated and half just an instruction from Momo.

“Thank you.” Releasing from the hug, Mina’s mom stands to offer you a hug, you accept the warm gesture happily.

Mrs. Myoui holds you tightly before pulling back from the hug and rubbing your upper arms.

Catching your eye contact before your head could fall to the floor, she wipes the tears off your cheeks- even with her own falling. A wordless exchange of affection that was a sign of acceptance and care, even her parents were amazing. You can see where she gets it from.

Momo puts her hand on your back, guiding you out of the room.

“Can we go to you and Dahyun’s house instead? I really don’t want to go to that apartment right now…” looking down at the ground while you walk as fast as your body would allow.

“Of course.” patting your back lightly and leading you to the exit from the hospital.

—

When you get to the house, the dogs scramble to greet you. Boo and Dobby come toppling over each other to get their love and affection. Momo goes into the kitchen and you go to the guest bathroom to take a shower.

Being anywhere but at the hospital leaves you feeling guilty, unable to cope with the idea of Mina waking up before you could get back. It makes you nauseous.

The one who accentuated your sense of self after all the trauma Nayeon left behind…she meant so much to you in such a short amount of time - how could you feel anything but shame and guilt?

Showering in your condition was difficult. Physically, mentally, emotionally…it was almost unbearable. Watching as the water as it revives the dried blood from your scalp and carrying down the drain, you relive the silent scene of Mina getting shot by Nayeon over and over again.

Standing in the hot shower and letting the water rinse you, you can’t imagine what would happen if you closed your eyes. What horrific scenes would play on your eyelids while you tried to rest? That and the anticipation of new about Mina kept you from resting in anyway, not even able to relax your body and unclench your back.

Stepping out of the shower now feeling better as you were clean, putting on a pair of jeans and Mina’s hoodie after toweling off, you are consumed with guilt and riddled with shame at the fact that you were here with Momo and Dahyun…and Mina was still in that same bed sleeping against her will just to fight to stay alive.

Walking out into the kitchen, you see that Momo had made you a plate of your favorite food. Her and Dahyun sit at the table and wait for you to come sit with them.

Eating in silence, there’s nothing really to say. All of you are worried about Mina…though they are also worried about you.

You haven’t eaten in days and you were just playing with your food, rolling the array of delicacies around and barely tasting any of it.

“Y/n…I know there is a lot going on right now, but you need to eat something so you can heal properly and fuel yourself.” Dahyun breaks the silence with a slice of care, unintentionally adding to the remorse.

“We care about you and so does Mina…she would want you to eat…”

Jaw tensing, you zone out at the sound of her name, triggering the events to play back through your mind like a film reel that would never stop spinning. Looping over it’s self in complete silence.

“Y/n?” nudging your shoulder, Momo sees your eyes focus back on her.

“It should have been me…” softly before standing up and walking right out the front door, leaving your phone and everything you were truly feeling on the table.

Hearing Momo and Dahyun yelling your name, you just keep walking down the street towards the hospital.

—

Overcast skies drear over your head as you walk towards downtown towards the hospital. There wasn’t much movement on the streets even in the evening.

Unaware of how time is passing, one foot in front of the other takes you far. Without your phone you had no clue what time it was or if anyone was trying to get ahold of you. Regret pangs your stomach when you realize that Mina might have woken up in this time…you should’ve brought your phone with you, but it’s too late to turn back now.

It had to be early afternoon, assumptions made from the light that seeped through the fluffed up grays that block the suns view - the outside grey matching the grey that was alive in your chest, molting into a virus that would infect the rest of you as time goes on - until your own ray of sunshine woke up.

Thoughts of Mina cloud your every waking moment, reminiscing about the last few days spent together and how she made you feel. The stark contrast between what she is and what Nayeon turned out to be made your shattered heart sting as the pieces dug into your chest, piercing your flesh in the sharpest way.

Tears brim in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you cross the street. A car comes out of no where, pulling up to you. The back window rolls down and a familiar voice shouts at you.

“Y/n!”

Turning around, you see Chaeyoung hanging out of the back of the car waving you down.

“Are you going to the hospital?”

Nodding your head gently, the energy that you would normally bring was long sucked out by this traumatic event and there was no will to make anymore.

Chae pops the door open from the inside and slides over to the other seat, waving you into the car.

Hopping in to the back, the driver continues on his path.

The silence is calming, even if it does spark the cyclical thoughts - the agonizing overlay that led you to having to go to the hospital to begin with. You can feel Chaeyoung looking at you as your eyes unfocused.

“It’s not your fault.” Cracking through the walls of the theater playing the film of the banquet in your mind, Chae scoots into the middle seat, wrapping her arm around you and trying to comfort you.

“She would be so pissed if she knew that you were blaming yourself for this, you know?” Eyebrows cocked at you.

She’s right.

“She’s a fighter, Y/n. Mina will be awake soon, she’s not going anywhere.” Hugging you tightly for reassurance.

“Thank you.” meekly spoken to her as she rubs your back.

“I think I’d like to walk the rest of the way, it helps me clear my head. It’s only a few blocks, right?” the misery in your eyes is alarming to her, the look on her face says it all.

“It is, I’ll see you there…right?” A warm smile following, making sure you were agreeing. It was very apparent that everyone was worried about you.

The car comes to a halt, opening the car door, you make your promise to Chaeyoung.

“I’ll see you in a little while.” Sliding out of the car carefully, not to agitate your bruising further.

Just as you’re about to close the door, you hear Chae call you by name.

“Y/n?”

Cocking your head up, you see her eyes blur.

“Please be safe…she’s going to want you when she wakes up.”

Biting the inside of your lip, tears welling up as you close the door to the car and it drives off in the direction of the hospital.

Blinking a few times, you see your liquid grief blends into the rain that was starting to fall. The heavy drops couldn’t compare to the destress that weighed down your skin.

Almost as if you’re walking in slow motion, you trudge through the sky’s sporadic droplets and make your way down the road. Taking the time to really try and process what had happened to you over the past few months.

Revisiting the memories of what had happened was like swallowing a branding iron. Nayeon not being anywhere near who she said she was, ruining everything you had built with her. Jihyo playing a part in it but being a victim in Nayeon’s wrath.

And Mina…the innocent bystander that just wanted to make you feel safe and cared for.

How could you ever forgive yourself for what happened with her? It was a miracle no one was blaming you when the gun was pointed at you…maybe if you would’ve heard Nayeon out at the apartment the evening before then none of this would’ve happened…

The sky opens up, releasing a torrential downpour onto you and your thoughts, weighing your clothes down but it was hard to notice considering the heft of the emotions you were carrying.

The constant silent replay of the bullet that put Mina where she is and Nayeon with the smoking gun before it all just fades to black…

A loud clap of thunder snaps you out of your own mind, you can see the hospital from where you are. Focusing on the doors, you take your slow steps towards the building, eager to be in the room where Mina sleeps so when she wakes up, she knows that you’re there for her, like she was for you.

—

The doors slide open, revealing the fluorescent lights that you had woken up under a few days prior. Dripping rainwater onto the tile, the soft thwaps give you something to focus on while you make your way to the elevator.

The external sounds help to drown out the misery and anxiety that saturates your soul. The digging of the elevator, the click of the button, the tapping of the rain on the windows around you, the sliding of the doors and the people around you creating the white noise that scream over your thoughts as you try to keep yourself from violently shaking.

Everyone is here, Momo and Dahyun must’ve drove here knowing this is where you’d end up. Chae arrived safely and Jihyo, Jeongyeon, Tzuyu and Sana were already present.

Walking to the group, you notice Mina’s parents are out of the room and everyone is sobbing…

Running up to them and wincing at every step, the panic overrides the pain of your injuries.

“What happened? Is Mina okay?” choking on your words.

No one answers.

Your heart sinks, anxiety coursing through your veins brings a need to get inside that room. Mina’s father puts his hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you words that are out of your realm of understanding as the girls try to compose themselves so they can explain.

Reaching for the door immediately, you try to push it open to find it locked.

Having no patience in this moment, you slam your hands on the door - shaking the it inside the frame and trying to get whoever was in the room to let you in.

“One moment, please!” an unfamiliar male voice chimes through the door seemingly frustrated.

“I don’t have a moment! Open the fucking door!” the panic in your voice is so eminent that everyone around you freezes and looks over at you. It’s the first time they’ve seen you this way, aside from the banquet but even then, your anxiety did not show itself this way.

“Y/n…let them do their job.” whispered by Momo, grabbing your shoulder and pulling you away from the room, putting space between you and the answers you craved.

“But…Mina, I-”

The door opens and the unfamiliar voice reveals himself to be the doctor. He steps to the side of the frame and goes to speak with Momo so she can translate for Mina’s parents, everyone else just looks at you and waits to see what you do.

You face the door and take a deep breath.

The unknown of behind the frame scares you, terrified of what was going to be on the other side of it. The gloom sits on your chest as you attempt to take another deep breath, eyes stinging as they try to create more tears but you had cried so much already that you seemingly had run out of them.

Taking a step into the room, you can’t bring yourself to look at the hospital bed. The machines are beeping so that’s a good sign but you’re so worried about what you were going to see that you needed to do this in steps.

Step 1: Walk in the room.

Step 2: take a deep breath.

Step 3: Turn to look at Mi-

“Y/n?” the smallest, most angelic hoarse whisper cuts through your list of what to do next, pushing you into the 3rd step before you could say it to yourself in your head.

“Mina?!” whipping around to the bed, you see Mina awake, looking exhausted and smiling at you with tears falling from her beautiful eyes, streaming down her perfectly porcelain cheeks.

“Mina!” forget the injuries, forget then soaked sweater, forget everything. Nothing else matters but this human in front of you who was finally awake.

Running to the right side of her bed, you shed her sweater and crawl on top of the sheets to lay next to her. Burying your face into her neck, wrapping your arms gently around her and sobbing into her.

“I th-th-thought I l-lost y-you. I’m so s-s-sorry for everything.” sniffling and trying to compose yourself so you can talk to her, holding her face as you wipe the tears off it.

“I sh-should’ve never p-put you in that s-situation, you deserve s-so m-much more than this, I’m so fucking sorry.” falling apart completely in her arms as you held each other.

“I thought I lost you too, Y/n. I’m so happy to see you.” pulling you in closer to her, you can feel the reverberation of her weeping through her body as you just take the moment to hold each other.

“None of this is your fault! You couldn’t have known that Nayeon was going to go off the rails like that. Do not blame yourself for anything that happened…it wasn’t you, it was her. Okay?” kissing the palm of your hand gently as she cradled you.

“Sit up for me.” Mina coos.

You comply immediately, keeping a hand on her while fixing yourself to the upright position.

Mina cups your face, turning it to the side to see your healing bruises, her lower jaw quivers as she attempts to hold back more tears, trying to get an idea of how bad your wounds were. Tilting your head down to see the stitches on your scalp - she loses the will to keep it together.

Mina is in full hysteria, sobbing as she runs her thumb over your bruised cheeks. You wipe the tears from hers again, grabbing her forearms and gripping them lightly as you go to reassure her that you’re fine.

“Wh-what else?” her raspy voice choking out, sighing and trying to regulate but interrupting you before you can get the sentence out.

“3 broken ribs, 16 stitches on my scalp and a few bruises to my face and stomach. The doctor told me that had you not held the back of my head, I would have died…So thank you for saving my life, Mina…what did they say…about you?” fearing the worst as to what could be…what Nayeon inflicted on her after you fainted.

“Punctured lung and a few cracked ribs. They told me to take it easy for the next few months and that I might get winded easily until my lungs heal. I can’t lift this arm until the muscles heal either but…I would do it again.” sniffling as she calms, realizing you both are okay, she removes her hand from your face and holds a few of your fingers instead.

“You would do it again?” confused in what she meant.

“Y/n, I have admired you from a distance for so long. I watched her take the light from your eyes and I was blessed to see it return. I would take that bullet a million times over if it meant keeping you safe and keeping the glow you have alive.” reaching up to cup your face again, pulling you towards her and placing her lips on yours gently.

Solar systems collide with the energy exchange that was this moment, your lips meeting after all the worry you both experienced for each other. It’s like all the trauma that you both endured melted off your bones, dripping into pure lilac care and comfort for one another, allowing both of you to forget about everything you endured together, even if it’s just for a moment.

Her heart monitor beeps uncontrollably as her heart races, prompting everyone to run in anxiously when they hear the sound of the chirps from the machine.

Separating for only a moment, you both look over at everyone and share a giggle together. Everyone is smiling at you, just happy to see the light between the two of you again.

“Sorry for the scare, everyone…” Mina’s face beams red in the embarrassment from making everyone worry, but that doesn’t stop her from doing what she wanted.

Pulling you back to her, she kisses you in front of Twice and her parents. It was soft and sweet and it contained every comfort you craved in the last few days of living in the unknown, even if the action did surprise you.

It was a welcomed and lovely surprise.

—

After a few hours of talking and sitting together, the Twice members leave to change and get some rest but not before Momo can give you your phone. Wanting Mina to spend some time with her parents, you try to stand and go with Momo to give her some space, but Mina wouldn’t let go of your hand.

“Please stay. I want you next to me.” gripping you tighter and tugging you back to her.

Climbing back onto the bed, you lay with her while she speaks to her family. Unable to join the conversation because of the language barrier, you simply lay next to her and keep her hand in yours.

The sound of her voice brings is a calm to you that you feel like you’ve been missing for years. Body relaxing next to hers, you face her on your side and slowly drift into a peaceful sleep you hadn’t known for days.

—

A buzzing wakes you, jolting you out of your sleep and immediately causing a disgruntle energy to settle in your body. Reaching over to the table next to Mina’s hospital bed, you admire her calmness for a moment, sleeping so peacefully, and your heart soars.

Realizing it was just you and Mina in the room, her parents must’ve gone back to their hotel to get some rest, you grab the phone and look to see an unfamiliar number on the screen.

Swiping to answer, you groggily say your greeting to be met by something unexpected.

“Hello?”

“Good Morning, This is the sheriff’s office and we are looking for Y/n L/n.” the thick southern accent familiar in the way it speaks, this must be the officer from the other day.

“This is she.”

“Well, Ms. L/n, I wish we were calling for better circumstances but unfortunately, that is not the case. Your apartment was broken into and torn apart. Are you currently available to come down and see if anything is missing?”

“What?!” your voice wakes Mina up, she quickly realizes that something is wrong and she’s sitting up next to you.

Putting the phone on speaker, you wait to hear what the officer has to say.

“It looks like they broke in through the window in the kitchen, it also looks like every room has been trashed…I suggest you get down here as soon as you can.” the officer is not aware of the events that had happened just a few days prior.

“I’m currently in the hospital waiting for my girlfriend to be discharged.” Mina perks up at the statement, turning red and blushing.

“We both were in a bit of a targeted situation and are a bit beat up. How long will you be down there?” inquired so you can cooperate in the situation.

“Targeted situation? Does this have to do with that rock with the note from before?” the officer seems to be concerned, realizing that this is way bigger than he realized.

“Yes. Im Nayeon tried to kill us at a friends banquet a few days ago. She was shot…and is…uhm…” realizing that Mina didn’t know about what happened with Nayeon yet.

“Well, she’s dead, sir.”

“What?” Mina gasps at this information, tears welling up as the processes what you’ve just said.

“I’m going to pull the reports for this incident, give me one moment.” the officer says, hearing typing on the other end of the line.

“It looks like she’s very much alive. There are reports that she was taken to the hospital across town and was in police custody but she escaped two days ago and her whereabouts are unknown.” the words ricocheted off your skull and down into your chest.

“What did you just say?” looking over at Mina, who is wide eyed and shivering as she tries to cope with how overwhelming this situation is.

“You should probably get here, Ms. Y/n. We will wait for you.” as he hung up the phone.

Looking over at Mina, you are both in shock.

“I saw Jihyo shoot Nayeon before I passed out…I remember that…but…why did she want to hurt us? Why did she hurt me? ” Mina’s eyes shift back and forth as she recalls what happened that night, the trauma settling in her brain from the betrayal of someone who once was her sister.

“We thought she was…gone. We all thought that she was…” cut off by the hinges of the door squeaking.

Watching as the door to the room opens and the nurse who did your discharge paperwork steps in with a clipboard for Mina.

“I’ll let you do the paperwork, I’m going to step outside and call Momo to let her know what’s going on.” Standing up with a sense of urgency and rushing past the nurse.

“Please hurry back.” Mina chimes as the nurse fills her in on care she would need.

The phone chirps back to you as you wait for Momo to answer. It’s early so you know you’re waking her and Dahyun up but this was an emergency.

“Hello? Y/n? Is everything okay?” Dahyun answers Momo’s phone, worried about you and Mina.

“No. Nayeon’s alive and not in police custody. I think she broke into my apartment and trashed it but Mina is signing her paperwork for discharge now and we are going to head over there.” Giving her the information that was given to you.

“What?! I’ll wake Momo, we can meet you there.” Already hearing Momo grumbling in the background.

“Let me take care of the apartment stuff. We will get a hotel somewhere and call you from there to meet us. I fear we won’t be safe until she’s caught.” Voice shaky as the fear penetrates you.

“Okay, just call us when you can.”

“I will call you soon, I promise.”

Hanging up the phone and spinning around to see Mina standing and struggling to change her clothes, not being able to lift her arm was hindering her mobility.

It breaks your heart into tiny pieces, watching her try to do something so basic by herself but hindered by the wound Nayeon inflicted.

Walking back in, you shut the door behind you and help her get dressed. Being her arm for her, slipping her pants on and finagling her sleeves of her sweater so she can slip the arm that she can’t lift through it and be somewhat comfortable.

“What aftercare did the nurse give you?” Grabbing the bag of her things and her hand before leading her out of the room to the door.

Both of you taking it slowly despite the mess at your apartment and the imminent threat of Nayeon, she could be anywhere. The most important things were safe, you and Mina. Everything else is replaceable.

“Just changing bandages and making sure it’s sterile. Stuff my Dad taught me, very easy.” reassuring you that she had it handled.

“Teach me how to do it once we get somewhere safe?” Offering to help care for her as she did for you when you needed her.

Protect her and care for her, that’s all you wanted.

“Of course, baby.” Leaning in to kiss your cheeks as you walk out of the hospital, just happy to be with each other again.

“To your apartment?” Looking up at you as you hail down a cab.

“To the apartment. Can you call your parents and make sure they’re somewhere safe? I don’t want anyone else hurt in this…” worrying about their safety, you can’t handle anymore hurt to loved ones especially after the kindness they showed you.

“I’ll call them on the way.” pulling her phone out of her pocket and scrolling through her contacts.

“Also, your girlfriend, huh?” Making eyes at you and smirking before looking back at her phone and clicking on her Mom’s contact ID.

“I- well I-…uhm.” Stammering and embarrassed, you hadn’t exactly asked her to be your girlfriend yet…

“I like the way that sounds, can I keep that title?” Winking at you, she lifts her phone to her ear to speak with her family about what comes next.

“Please do.” giving her the biggest smile you’ve shown in days.

—

Arriving at the apartment, you see the crime scene tape and the sheriff outside. You and Mina thank the cab driver before getting out and walking up to the officer.

“Ms. Y/n! Thank you for coming so quickly, will you please walk through the apartment and let us know if anything is missing?” Ushering you inside with Mina, he seems to be in a hurry.

All the windows are broken, the couch has been sliced up with a knife, the TV is shattered and the game consoles you had purchased were in pieces in the living room floor. Sighing at the sight of this, you knew it would only get worse further into the house.

The kitchen was covered in shattered dining ware, all your new plates and cups in ruins on the floor. The sink missing chunks of the tub of it and the water spraying everywhere, creating puddles on the floor.

Thinking back to when Mina cleaned the floor after the window shattered and bandaged up your foot on the island that now was coated in broken ceramics…you were just starting to make happy memories here, why would someone ruin this?

Everything is broken tossed around like it was nothing…the only thing left untouched was the black mug that you had matching with her…

Gasping at each room you went into, you made your way to the bedroom to see what else she could’ve done. It’s astonishing to you that someone who was just beaten and shot could do this much damage to a property.

The bed is in shreds, just like the couch. Headboard broken and falling off the frame. Clothes everywhere, thrown around and in pieces just like the rest of your belongings.

Mina grips your hand tighter, refusing to let go of it as you realize that everything you owned was completely dismantled at what you assumed to be Nayeon’s hands and a very sharp knife.

“We can replace it all, I’m not worried about any of this.” Kicking around the fabrics of what were once your favorite shirts and shoes.

“Y/n?” Mina’s voice quivers as she points to the wall.

Heavy red spray paint spelling out, “Sorry she’s gone but you’re mine.”

“What the fuck…” a chill runs through your spine, you knew it was Nayeon the minute you walked in but this…this felt like such a threat, making you nauseous and fearful of how much farther she would take this.

“We need to get out of here.” Turning around to leave and pulling Mina with you, when you feel a vibration in your pocket.

Pulling your phone out, it’s an unknown number…

Waving over the officer to show him the phone, he hands you a device that clicks into the charging port of the phone, explaining that it would track her location via cell towers and then encourages you to answer the call on speaker.

“Hello?”

“Did you like my art on your walls, my love?” Giggling manically at herself, you sit in silence.

“What do you fucking want, Nayeon? Haven’t you done enough already?!” Seethed through clenched teeth as you watch the sheriff signal you to keep her talking.

“Awh baby, are you mad at me? Sorry about your little girlfriend…she was just collateral damage, a pawn in a bigger game. So is your apartment but don’t worry, you can still come home. I miss our showers together, don’t you?” somewhere between manic and seductive, her strange attempt to get you back to your old home was threatening and violent.

You’re unsure how far she’s going to take this and you don’t want to find out what the last resort is after what she’s already done.

“I told you I don’t want anything to do with you.” Trying to keep calm when in reality the storm brewing in your chest could’ve blown the roof off the apartment, ruining it further.

“Look…she’s dead. Gone. I shot her where it counted, so just come home where you belong. With me. Don’t you want to come home to me again, baby? I broke up with Jihyo…it’s over between us. It’s only you, my love. Only you and me.” trying to conceal her tears from you, but you can see and hear right through them.

This was always about control.

The cops puts his hand up, signaling that they had her location.

“You either show up here in the next few hours or else.” The grit in her voice scares you more than you’d ever admit out loud.

“Like what, Nayeon? What else could you possibly hurt me with?” snarky in your response, knowing that you had the upper hand and she wasn’t aware of that.

“Well…don’t forget I know where Momo and Dahyun live. You have 2 hours to get here. No cops. Just you. I love you.” The phone beeps, indicating she’s hung up on you.

Mina has a look of horror on her face, leaning in to hug you. Feeling her shake in fear sparks a rage in you that you cannot explain.

“Is she actually at the old apartment?” The officer nods his head yes.

“I’m going over there. Follow behind me and come inside 15 minutes after I do, do you want me to wear a wire?” to the sheriff, he nods his head again.

Mina is hasty in her protest, practically slamming her fist down on the counter as she spits her argument at you.

“Don’t you fucking dare put yourself in harm’s way again! I thought I lost you the first time and I don’t want to even imagine what losing you would feel like, please…just let them handle it.” Holding back her sobs, she’s distraught and almost inconsolable.

Hugging her as tightly as you can without sparking pain in both of you, you rub her back in reassurance and kiss the top of her head. Holding you so tightly, she refuses to let you go at all, keeping you in her arms, where she would argue you belong. To that you had no rebuttal.

“I’ll be safe, I promise. And you are safe because she thinks…” the words get caught in your throat.

“…she thinks she killed you…I can’t let her go after Momo and Dahyun, I won’t let her go after them.” kissing her forehead and then reminding her of the one key part of this plan of you going to your old home.

“Besides…I’m just a distraction.”

#twice x reader #kpop x reader #twice smut #kpop imagines #twice imagines #wlw #myoui mina #mina x reader #twice im nayeon #im nayeon #twice mina #mina #myoui mina imagines #myoui mina x reader #jihyo twice #sana twice #Mina angst #myoui mina x fem!reader

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romangolden68 · 17 days ago

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Diablo Rojo

(( Story of mine involving @polo-drone-009 going Latin through some good ol' shoes~ Hercules rummages through his shared dorm with his favorite lil beta-bro Roman. He is looking for where he left his favorite pair of golden briefs, yet he grows further irritated when he struggles to find them. He huffs, his muscles rubbing against each other as he searches around the golden closet, fully becoming his after he took over the dorm of him and his beta-bro's dorm.

However, in his search, he comes across something rather unexpected. It is his favorite pair of golden sneakers, and yet what surprises him is that it has a new red influence. He can only tilt his head, his hair swishing to the side as he picks up the sneakers.

However, he knows that the sneakers are his as the musky foot smell deficiently belongs to him! However, he wonders to himself, convinced that there is only one way to ensure that the shoes truly belong to him. He casually and uncaringly kicks off his shoes, and as if "his" sneakers are a glove, they roll right onto his feet. He flexes his shoes and grins, feeling the shoes hugging his musky feet. However, a few moments after he puts on the shoes, he feels odd. His body begins to heat up, as if gaining a fever with no illness present. He leans against a wall, the clothes becoming a tangled mess as he can't help but release a moan as a lightning strike of pleasure shoots up from his feet, up his spine, and straight to his brain. He groans in sudden pleasure as he immediately feels himself growing aroused, going full mast within a few throbs. His double-digit golden rod throbbing as it already spills a pearly white pearl of liquid. He grunts as he suddenly finds himself unable to move- as if the pleasure has paralyzed him.

He only watches with a pounding heart and sweating forehead as he watches his skin begin to dark as his muscle fibers tighten. He feels his dense coils of muscles contract before expanding. He grunts as his body rapidly expands and grows. His biceps tear and repair simultaneously as his pecs expand before his very gaze. His abdomen hardens, any fat cell instantly evaporating before a muscle cell replaces it. Overall, his entire body explodes with painful pleasure, growing to sizes of alpha male proportion, virtually godly. After all this, he inspects him, in his new form- yet he could feel his skin still heated, his brain still fuzzy, and his testosterone and endorphins flooding through his blood. Whatever the shoes are doing to him is not done yet~

He can only watch in newfound fascination as his skin begins to darken, soon going tan and calloused, his white DNA cells being replaced with the DNA of a Latino alpha male. His Caucasian cells are destroyed and replaced by Latino cells, his skin darkening, his hair darkening, his muscles tightening. After many heartbeats, gone is his Caucasian ethnicity, thoroughly and roughly fucked and replaced by his new Latino cells.

And yet the changes haven't even changed, for his skin erupts with a plague of black ink, tattoos of various meanings sprouting across his skin, and yet this only heightens his pleasure. He can only find himself grunting in satisfaction as his new skin and body art provide enhanced latino masculinity to his alpha form.

Finally, the best is for last. He groans as his head suddenly feels tight, as if someone is throwing a rubber band around his head and tightening it. He groans as he feels his now Latino orbs, now filled with Latino goo, begin to grow heavier as his head begins to feel lighter. He feels thoughts of intelligence... and his Caucasian heritage.... and his English... being drained straight to the source of his Latino alphaness. The majority of his English and intelligence, and all of his Caucasian heritage, is churned and deleted inside his Latino nuts. Yet, he can only moan as he now rambles between Spanish, brief periods of good English, and frequent periods of broken English with Spanish gaps. All of his English DNA deleted!

And an explosion of his weak English and Caucasian remains into his golden clothes, gone is the old Hercules. The new and improved Hércules triumphant over the remains. His face goes flat, full of confidence and dominance, as he awaits his macho beta- for he needs to assert his superioridad over his débil Blanco macho-beta. Para poner al hombre blanco en su lugar~

#thegoldenteam #gold #male transformation #jockification #race change #race tf #latino gay #jock tf #shoe transformation

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just-a-sewer-goblin · 9 days ago

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Collars of Duty 2

Hybrid!Simon x reader

- Chapter 1 -

Just as you're thinking that things might work out a medical emergency occurs. You find yourself confronted with Simon's injuries and an impossible choice.

~4k Words

Content: medical inaccuracies, description of seizure, fainting, discussion of wounds, discussion of wounds sustained during sexual abuse, mention of sexual abuse, talk of hybrids being put down, mentions of suicide, reader is being mean to themselves in their thoughts

One moment you’re rambling, trying to get Simon to relax more, the next his eyes suddenly go unfocused and he starts swaying in the spot he’s been glued to for the past few minutes. He shakes his head but that only seems to make his apparent dizziness worse. His unfocused eyes search the room and land on you. More or less on you, because he seems unable to focus them. What is going on? Then he almost silently crumbles to the floor.

It’s so anticlimatic it almost startles an overwhelmed laugh out of you. You’d expect a body as big as his to make a loud noise when fainting but he seems to soften his own fall before he is truly out.

You’re still looking at him but your thoughts are starting to race. What are you supposed to do? How did this just happen? What did you learn about first aid?

Then his body starts to convulse and immediately you’re on your knees by his side. Oh shit, you are so not prepared for this. You have to scoot back a bit so he doesn’t bump into you and terror floods your veins.

You wish you were back in bed, still on leave. This is not how you wanted to come back to work and you can feel tears starting to swim in your eyes as you frantically look Simon over trying to guess what you can do to help. The only good thing about the bare room is that there’s no furniture he could hit and injure himself further with.

“We need a doctor here!” You barely recognize your own voice. Violently it tears through your throat, panicked. What should you do? You don’t have the necessary training to help him and the way his eyes are rolling makes sweat bead on your hairline. Your hands are hovering in the air uselessly.

“Doctor! Doctor!” You scream again because no one immediately reacts and panic starts to fill your lungs at the way Simon’s body moves. You hate it. The helplessness and the way you can only kneel there and watch his body contort and convulse. It looks painful even through your blurry vision. You want to look somewhere else so you don’t have to watch it but you can’t move.

“Please, help!” Screaming hurts, it feels like the sheer hysteria will rip your vocal chords and finally, after what feels like forever, the door gets yanked open and two nurses rush into the cell. Liz is by your side as soon as the nurses are by Simon’s. Her hands pressing firmly against your shoulders, trying to tether you to reality.

“They’ll take care of him. It’s okay. It’s okay.” She tries to soothe you and you watch two nurses turn Simon onto his side as soon as he stops convulsing. You’re still frozen watching them work calmly but hurriedly and you look at Liz with all the helplessness you feel. Simon’s lifeless body burnt into your mind. Was that your fault?

Did you do this? Your brain desperately replays every second you spent in there with him but you only talked to him? Was there a way to trigger a seizure like this with words?

When they put the big hybrid on a stretcher and quickly make their way from the cell you’re on their heels immediately. This is your hybrid, your charge. Sometime between first hearing about him on the phone and him collapsing you have decided to take him under your wing. It wasn’t even a conscious decision, but the feeling of responsibility is unmistakably there.

The medical staff that transports Simon to the hospital wing of the building is moving so fast that you have to run to keep up with them. At least now your heart has a reason to beat as hectically as it does. Vaguely you realize that Liz is following you too and before you know what’s happening you’ve arrived at your destination.

Simon is transported through a double door that swings shut behind them and when you try to push through another nurse steps into your way.

“You’re not allowed to come in here. Please wait outside.” She says in a kind voice that brooks no arguments and you really have no choice but to listen. What could you do anyway?

You turn back towards the long hallway that leads to the doors. The only splash of color against the sterile white walls is Liz, who approaches you and leads you to the chairs. They’re just as white as the rest of the hallway that has multiple other corridors, all equally as white, branching off. With gentle insistence she presses you down into one.

You sit down without any fight. That just happened. The hybrid did collapse while you were in there with him. They called you in to help him and already you had messed up.

A warm hand finding your back and starting to stroke up and down startles you from your thoughts. Liz’ hand feels soothing and you turn to her.

“They’ll help him. It will be okay. I’m sorry that you had to come back to such a mess.” She says and you can see in her eyes how much she regrets how things are going.

You shake your head. “It’s certainly not the way I would have hoped my comeback goes. But it will be fine.” Whether you’re soothing Liz or yourself, you’re not sure but you even manage a weak smile.

“You were my best bet. They want him put down and the other handlers don’t have the capacity for the care that a case like his needs. And they didn’t exactly jump at the prospect of working with a deranged killer.”

You press your lips together and nod. She’s wrong though. Everything that happened before Simon collapsed doesn’t point to a crazy killer hybrid. Just one who went through something extremely traumatic. He needs time and help.

Or are you wrong? Was he just relatively docile because he was so exhausted? Maybe he is indeed lost and your instinct is off. You’d never questioned your instincts before. But everything that happened with Phillip has knocked most of your confidence right out of you. Maybe the others were right and letting him go would be merciful to him and prevent further harm.

You don’t know how long you sit there listening to Liz trying to soothe you and while you’re trying to collect your thoughts until a nurse approaches you through another hallway.

“You came in with the hybrid?” He asks and immediately you perk up nodding. Any news on Simon would help you to feel better at this point. Just knowing something instead of sitting here and cooking up the worst scenarios in your head would be enough to calm your shaking hands.

“Who is his handler?” His second question comes and you pause for just a second.

Technically you haven’t yet signed the paperwork. Technically Simon isn’t your charge yet and realistically speaking you shouldn’t feel this responsible for him already. But you do. You know damn well you won’t leave him. Not when no one else wants to be his handler and everyone else who has a say is ready to put him down.

You can feel Liz hard stare on you when you answer firmly. “I am.”

The nurse crouches down before your sitting form and you find that it feels good for him to get to your level. You still don’t know all the hospital staff even though you spent almost a week here after the incident with Phillip. But you know that you trust them and they’re the ones who put you back on your feet. So they will help Simon too. They have to.

“They’re currently examining him.” His smooth voice immediately puts you at ease. “He probably had the seizure because of the severe starvation he went through which lead to dangerous levels of hypoglycemia. They will take care of that as soon as they can, they might already be as we’re speaking. But he has suffered many wounds and they’re currently trying to figure out the extent of the damage done to his body.”

You breathe deeply, your churning tummy settling some. They’re helping him. He will probably be okay. Please let him be okay.

Then the guilt slams into you anew. You vaguely had been aware of how bad of a shape he was in but you had prioritized making him feel safe over his physical health and look where it brought him. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

You should have known better. You should have been able to correctly assess the situation and act accordingly. You should have made sure that he immediately got medical care. You should not have spent those precious minutes yapping away.

You miss the rest of what the nurse says but as soon as he’s gone again Liz grabs your hands and more or less forcibly turns you towards her a bit.

“Stop that.” She demands.

You meet her eyes. “What do you mean?”

She raises her eyebrow and purses her lips in her ‘don’t test me’ way. “That. Blaming yourself for stuff that isn’t your fault.”

You shake your head. “I should have known better Liz. I have worked with so many hybrids; I should have made the right call and immediately talked him into going to the doctor. I should have known better. I should have been better. I-”

“Uh, no I’m gonna stop you right there. Let’s imagine you did. Let’s imagine you immediately tried talking him into that. He might have freaked and attacked you. He might have refused. It might have caused further distress or even made him go even more animal. You do not know and you cannot shame yourself for doing what you assumed was the best.”

Her eyes are set on you and you look at her for a while. It’s quiet in the hallway. The center rarely has medical emergencies of Simon’s scale. The worst that usually happens are slight wounds from hybrids playing too rough or people falling over their own feet and scraping their knees.

You’re pretty sure the last medical emergency had been you and it’s been weeks since then. Still the medical staff here consists of very competent doctors and nurses. The next hospital is a few cities over so the hospital wing of the rehab center is big enough and well equipped to deal with all sorts of medical emergencies and non-emergencies.

You smile weakly at Liz. “You know, my therapist would be proud of your little speech.”

Her chuckle at your answer is relieved. “I think I like your therapist. Maybe you should introduce us so we can gang up on you.”

It feels good to joke, it makes the situation more bearable and you find yourself bantering with Liz. It helps to at least ignore the worry until the nurse approaches again.

“The hybrid is in room 141. The doctor in charge of him would like a word with you before you can go to his room.”

You slowly stand up and Liz is about to join you but you stop her. “I know you have work to do. You don’t have to babysit me just because it’s my first day back and things are a little difficult.”

She seems hesitant. “Are you sure? I know how sudden and overwhelming this must be for you. Especially with how everything is going.”

You try to go for a reassuring nod. You were capable of doing this. Maybe it was hard but you could try to see it as your baptism of fire after your long absence.

“I’ll be fine. And I’ll come to your office later.” As much as you appreciated Liz being there with you, you had to prove to yourself that you could still handle situations like this.

Reluctantly Liz leaves and you follow the nurse to the doctor’s office, heart hammering in your throat. He excuses himself and closes the door behind you and you try to wipe your sweaty palms on your pants as discretely as possible.

The office is a small rectangular room with both walls on the sides covered by big shelves that burst with files, books and papers. A broad desk stands in the middle and behind that the doctor is sitting signing one last paper before looking at you. Behind her a poster hangs on the wall that seems to have some details on the anatomy of hybrid ears.

She’s a beautiful woman and you know from previous interactions that she may care more about the hybrids than anyone else who works at the center. Being in her presence is slightly weird. The last time you saw her, you were a patient. Her sigh is heavy and her gaze serious as she braces her elbows on the desk, folds her hands and looks at you.

“So you’re his handler?” She asks without preamble and her tone paired with her expression almost makes you retract. You straighten up and swallow. Oh today was not a small talk kind of day for her it seems.

Your reaction to her words seems to soften her and she slightly shakes her head, gives you a smile and points at the chair in front of her desk almost apologetically.

“Sorry, take a seat. That’s my emergency room tone. Didn’t mean to unleash that on you. I heard they brought you in from medical leave especially for him?” She says and this time her voice is conversationally. You feel yourself relax.

You take a seat, and nod. “Yeah, I arrived shortly before he collapsed. I tried to calm him down and before I could talk to him about coming to the hospital he had the seizure.”

She presses her lips together for a moment and then smiles almost sadly. “Him collapsing was probably a mixture of the blood loss, the starvation and the adrenaline finally leaving his system because that must have been the only thing keeping him on his feet in his condition.”

Blood loss? You hadn’t seen any actively bleeding wounds that would have been big enough to cause blood loss severe enough to make him faint. You look at her questioningly and she sees that as your invitation to keep talking.

“I did a medical examination as well as a small operation and as his handler you have the right to know about it. I think you should know about it in this case.”

Oh you really needed to sign those papers or you could get into deep shit for sitting in this office before doing so. The hectic beating of your heart echoes in your ears but you don’t want to wait and go through the whole procedure of signing the papers now. You want to know what she has to say so you incline your head in agreement.

There is a slight hesitation, which reminds you of Liz’ call just a few hours earlier, before she goes on. “I guess there’s no nice way to say this. So I’ll just give you the facts.”

You brace yourself for what is to come, fiddling with your hands in your lap.

“He suffered severe wounds and we’re lucky the small internal bleeding I found was so slow or he would have died before even arriving here. We managed to stop it. That is one of his newest wounds because if it had been older than a few hours it would have killed him.”

She goes over the paper on her desk and rattles on. “Four ribs on his left are slightly broken, his pinky and ring finger on the right are broken. We have bruises of varying severity all over his body along with wounds in all stages of healing. Some of the cuts on his face needed stitches one shows slight signs of inflammation but I think it should be fine.”

Her next inhale is measured and somehow you know what will follow will be even worse. “He also has internal and external ruptures.”

You cock your head, confused. What did she mean? “I thought he only had one small internal wound that you fixed? Cuts don’t count as ruptures, right?”

Her expression becomes sympathetic as if she doesn’t want to break the news to you and cold dread settles in your tummy, it makes your hands clammy all over again and you wish you could just leave and let someone else have this conversation in your stead. She couldn’t mean… No. Please it was already bad enough. Not-

“The ruptures are anal and rectal. There are some in relatively early stages of healing along with older scars. Without him saying what happened I cannot be a hundred percent certain but if I had to guess… he got sexually abused during the torture.”

Suddenly you feel sick, pressing your hand to your mouth trying not to cry. You can’t even imagine what Simon went through and your resolve to be his handler hardens to unbreakable steel. The doctor’s expression is incredibly soft as she fishes a paper out of the stack and shows it to you.

Hectically your eyes scan the vague words. Nothing that can’t be twisted so it doesn’t sound like the request to put him down that it evidently is.

“He’s the one they wanted put down.”

You already knew that but along with all the other info you suddenly feel dizzy it’s all too much and you feel like you’ll spiral until you harshly remind yourself that this is not about you. This is about Simon and you can damn well hold yourself together until you can find a toilet and break down in private.

She gives you the time it takes you to gather yourself again and then delivers the next blow. “As his handler it’s your decision for now. The request only came in because of what happened with the soldiers but if you say it was an accident and Simon can be helped, he won’t be put down. I think you should decide soon. He’s currently asleep and probably will be for a few hours more but it would be cruel to let him wake up just to put him to sleep again.”

It makes you angry, the way she says it. As if it’s peaceful and nice. As if she isn’t talking about putting him down like an animal. But you’re also aware that she is only playing her part in this and putting the hybrids down is never her decision.

One peek at her face has you questioning whether she chose those words for you or herself. As the head doctor she’s the one tasked with putting a hybrid down when it comes to it. Suddenly you almost pity her.

So you nod at her and stand up ready to tell her that she won’t have to put him down but she speaks before you can.

“Think about it.” She looks around as if to make sure you’re alone in the room before she continues. “I think we both resent that sometimes the center is above the law but consider his feelings. I’ve seen one too many cases where a hybrid became suicidal after only a fraction of what happened to him and-“ Her eyes start glistening traitorously. “- if he chooses that then ... my way would be painless at least.”

Her words rattle you to your bones but you can’t even fault her, or get angry. You cannot even imagine what it feels like to treat a hybrid after attempting to escape life only to watch them succumb to their wounds anyway.

So instead of immediately answering you excuse yourself ready to leave the office. The air is too heavy, stifling and the responsibility nearly suffocates you.

She extends her hand to you. You shake it and for a moment you lock eyes. It feels weird, like the short intense talk you just had connects you more than any of the small talk you’ve shared in the cafeteria before.

As you go to leave the room she is already back to studying papers and working on her computer so you close the door as silently as possible, leaning against it for a moment to just breathe. Taking that opportunity to remind yourself that you can do this. You can do this.

Finding Simon’s room is easy enough and when you enter to go to his bedside you finally let the first tears drip. It feels good to let it out. And your therapist would tell you that it’s important to let the tears out or you’ll drown in them.

You just met him but everything in you hurts for the big hybrid and everything he might have been through. The tears keep coming and you get a chair to sit down next to him.

Everything is wrong. He shouldn’t look small but he does. Small and pale as he rests between the pristine sheets and you want to scream. He doesn’t deserve any of this. He doesn’t belong into a hospital bed with a drip connected to him.

The nasogastric tubing that ensure he gets a steady supply of nutrients that won’t overwhelm his exhausted body along with the monitor steadily beeping along next to his bed remind you, that he’s taken care of for now.

It’s a while before your tears stop and when you blow your nose you feel marginally better. That’s something. You had the moment for yourself so now it’s time to concentrate on the big hybrid.

You consider talking to him again because it seemed to help earlier when he was awake but you don’t know what to tell him. What are you supposed to say, when you have already failed him during your very first meeting?

Seeing the stitches on some of the cuts on his face make them look even worse and you remind yourself that it’s proof that he’s one step closer to getting better.

Time is lost on you while you sit beside him and your phone ringing makes you flinch. You get it from your pocket and seeing Liz number reminds you of the promise you made earlier, to go and meet her.

“Hey.” You’re sure she can hear the guilt in your voice and her laughter coming through is like cool water over a burn that you didn’t even know you needed.

“It’s fine, I knew you wouldn’t leave his side any time soon. How is he?”

You brush your hand down your face, suddenly aware of your exhaustion. “He seems to be stable. The doc said he’ll probably wake up in a few hours.”

That reminds you of the weight of the decision over his life resting on your shoulders, the doctor’s earlier words ringing in your ears. As much as she made you hesitate in her office, you’re sure how you should decide. Even if he ended up rather wanting to die, it is not your call to make.

It is no ones. Once more you grit your teeth over how warped your own thoughts sometimes got in here. The doc had meant it well, you’re sure and she’d had her own reasons for her argumentation but you could not, would not lose Simon without giving him a fighting chance.

As you talk some more with Liz your decision hardens until it is set in stone. But in the end it doesn’t matter because even after more than twelve hours pass, morning turning into afternoon turning into evening, Simon is still not waking up.

#the sewer writes #cod x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #hybrid!simon #hybrid!simon x reader #simon x reader #ghost x reader #hybrid!ghost #hybrid au #handler reader #hybrid!simon riley x reader #hybrid simon riley #hybrid simon x reader #hybrid ghost x reader

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cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme · 4 months ago

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contributing to the curse (ask number) and your request for anything persona x reader (whims)

any game goes, but how about the characters with a reader that doesn't seem to mash with the rest of group too well? i'm talking someone who is quiet, the complete opposite of a team player, doesn't get the inside jokes, and doesn't hang out much with the others outside of persona ass-kicking pursuits...

this errs on the platonic side of things :3c just for fun

I had fun putting this together, though I feel it is a tad sloppy in the middle section but I am pretty sure that's just me.

Now! Your Wish Is My Command!

Ren drank his can of soda through a silly straw as he watched you, the hat he received from The Boss for his birthday which matched Sojiro’s own save for Ren’s being black with a red band as opposed to white with a black band sitting snugly upon his head.

Ren had to go through hell to get you out here, he was going to make sure you didn’t slip away when no one was looking.

The sound of billiards cracking against one another rang out.

“ARRRRGH!!! C’mon man!Cut me some slack here!” Ryuji cried as Akechi laughed.

“Hmph, and why should I do that? You’re the one who carries around a blunt instrument all the time, perhaps you should learn a bit of delicacy!” Akechi said as he moved to the sidelines and next to Yusuke who seemed to be pondering something.

“Crow, tell me, have you noticed?” Yusuke asked vaguely.

“I have, our dear Joker has been glaring at them for quite a while. Then again, it quite is rare for them to come out for a “Team Bonding” exercise.” Akechi stated as he briefly turned his gaze onto you from the corner of his eyes.

“I… was talking about the scene we are currently in being perfect to paint…” Yusuke meekly muttered, causing Akechi to sigh.

Was Joker the only one with a brain cell in this group?

He was promptly reminded that his favorite and most powerful Persona was a Jack Frost that can nuke anything and anyone. He chose Jack Frost purely because it was cute.

Joker most definitely did not own any brain cells.

“I am well and truly surrounded by idiots…” Akechi hissed to himself.

How could Joker believe such sacrilege?

Jack-O-Lantern was clearly the cutest.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Haru kept her eyes on you as the Mona-Mobile rattled down the halls of Mementos.

This was the first time she had ever been sent out with you on the same team.

It was proving to be… enlightening.

Especially with your Persona, Robin Goodfellow.

Trickery, illusions, and misdirection to position an enemy in the perfect spot to ensure defeat.

That is what your Persona specializes in.

And when Haru took your weapon into account… It made her think of the tricksters in the old stories she used to read as a child.

A wiley trickster causing mischief and chaos as they pleased to both friend and foe alike.

And to a certain point, that fit.

Except… you were always a bit off to the side.

Watching everything, working with the others for only as long as was needed.

The jokes the thieves made were lost on you and the moment they were done with Mementos or a Palace you were gone on the wind.

Now that she thought about it, that is probably why you were only able to do a Showtime with Joker who seemed to be the only one you listened to.

And it was certainly a mindblowing sight.

A “Midsummer Night's Dream” if she had ever seen one.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“It's Showtime!” Joker shouted with a grin as you walked forward, spear in hand.

“Do you Shadows dream?” you asked as you reached for the mask on your face.

Joker rushed past you, knife in hand and carved through the enemies before them.

You tore the mask from your face and your Persona appeared behind you with a manic laugh and an impish grin upon its face.

“I know that I do.” you declared evenly as you stabbed the tip of your weapon into the ground and the world changed.

A forest at night in the dead of summer with a hundred fireflies flying through the sky and a clearing filled with flowers stunning the thieves and the shadows.

“Unfortunately, dreams are but illusions without the will to make them real.” You stated as you appeared behind the shadows, speartip stained with their black Ichor.

Then, as quickly as it came the illusion shattered and an explosion rained down from above, courtesy of Joker.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Haru continued to be vexed by you.

She was not alone in that if the way the others talked about you was any indication.

“So then Joker, is ya pal gonna be joining us tonight?”

“I am desperate to paint their Persona, its whimsical beauty has truly enraptured me!”

“I got these sweets earlier today! I want to share them with everyone! Wait! They’re not here!? You better not eat their share, Ryuji!”

“C’mon! We can’t have a party discussion about what we’ll do in the next Dungeon if we’re missing our Illusion caster!”

“Joker, shouldn’t we try to get them to show up to at least a few of these to ensure everything runs smoothly?”

“If they bring me pancake mix again I am going to break their fingers.”

Haru was happy to see that everyone was treating you as part of the team despite how distant you were.

But… she just hoped you knew they had your back if they needed it.

They all knew what it felt like to be the odd one out as well as anyone could ever hope to know it.

They were outcasts, misfits, social pariahs, delinquents, and weirdos.

They were the Phantom Thieves Of Hearts, and you were one of them.

#persona x reader #phantom thieves x reader #phantom thieves #persona 5 x reader #persona 5

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dufferpuffer · 3 months ago

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Just read your post about Tonks. Tonks surely was a student of Snape's. Just imagine. Tonks. In Potions. With Snape. Tonks, canonically the clumsiest character of the entire series. Potions. The SUBTLE science and EXACT art of potion-making. NO foolish wand-waving or silly incantations. Tonks is not subtle and exact. Tonks is foolish and silly. And that, to Snape, is INFURIATING. However, Tonks is an Auror. This means Tonks succeeded in getting an Outstanding O.W.L in Potions. This means Tonks took Potions N.E.W.T. This means Snape was probably hoping and praying he would never see her face again after her 5th year but SURPRISE. The girl is SMART and Snape is, unfortunately for him, a fair grader (yes he is idc what people say). I want to see this. I want to see Tonks being an absolute clumsy mess in Potions and Snape being livid but at the same time frustrated because he knows she has potential but she's just not careful and she's witty and talks back and he can't just truly hate her. THIS brings me to the scene in HBP where Tonks brings Harry to the gates after he got knocked out by Malfoy on the train. She sends a Patronous inside the school to get the gates opened. Snape comes and tells her that he noticed her Patronus had changed (now a wolf so cute omg). Therefore, Snape remembers her Patronus from before, but it's like he catches himself and makes a sly remark about her new Patronus being weak because it's a wolf. Like a father disapproving of his daughter's choices for falling in love with a mangy werewolf (love you Remus). Idk I loved that scene because it hints that they have a bit more history together than we think. It could also just be from both being part of the order, but I feel there is a bit more. What do you think dear tumblr friend?

I think she and Snape were buddies. As much 'buddies' as Snape can manage with a student, anyway.

There is a reason Tonks stomachs Moody so well - and its because she's had A LOT of practice with grumpy hard asses. She takes biting comments well, she isn't ever afraid to dish humor back, she knows well when to take things seriously and when to help lighten the mood - handy for people who can't relax easily.

She trained those teeth on Snape, I guarantee it. She LIKES bastards. She enjoys making people happy, she enjoys exceeding expectations, she likes proving herself reliable - and bastards are the hardest to please. She doesn't see blemishes or ugliness or scars - just the person. She likes making them smile.

She's clumsy. She's a disaster. He can't ignore her no matter how much he might want to sometimes - because she might die... ...and yet, her skill is obvious. She pulls through when she needs to. I like to think Potions might have been one of her worst subjects - but she worked hard at it, and enjoyed it, and asked questions.

Not just "Did I chop the Mudwort root thin enough, Sir?" But "Ey, Prof - if this potion utilities the healing properties within the cells of the root, shouldn't we be grinding it rather than slicing it...?" You know. She's actually invested, deeply learning about the topic, willing to experiment. Making him answer with thought. "...No, breaking the cell wall makes it burn away too quickly. We slice thinly to ensure good, even absorption."

And then her cauldron explodes later anyway because she accidentally tipped some leaves in with the slices. Oops. BUT... she will stay behind to fix it. She will ask to practice when she has free time. She isn't talented, nor careful - but its hard not to appreciate her enthusiasm and her dedication to success. He spent a lot of time with her. Being able to mark her a genuine "O" in her NEWTs was one of his proudest moments as a teacher.

Perhaps it's part of why Hermione annoys him so much, too - she appeared like an interested student on the surface, having read her books... but she never stepped the fuck up. She never tried. She never pushed it. She never used her brain. An insufferable know-it-all is ONLY better than a complete dunderhead in that they're safer to have in the classroom. But she doesn't encourage other students learning, she doesn't push herself, she doesn't actually care about the topic... just getting everything right, to prove she is smart or whatever.

Same with Neville: A clumsy oaf that seems to do nothing at all to mitigate that fact. barely even stays behind to clean his own messes. They say Longbottom is 'frightened of him' - well he isn't there to coddle him. He never needed to coddle Tonks. She took his bite as a challenge to do better and soared because of it. She was an oafish moron... but a rare gem.

...And then she started dating FUCKING LUPIN The first thing he said when she was so obviously showing interest it made him feel ill was "...You know he is a werewolf, yes?" And when she responded "Yeah, duh - what of it?" He groaned "Of course... you've never had any common sense..." And the look he snapped at her when she cheekily said "...Gave you hell at school, too - didn't he?"

Tonks teased him. Of course she did. There were days when he walked into class to see she had turned into a foolish version of him... But she knew how to hold back. She is a highly empathetic woman. Even when she was young... the few times she sensed perhaps she went too far: She was mature enough to apologize. Sensitive enough to realize he would not want such apology in front of others, either - and wait till after class to hang her head. It was difficult to stay mad at her. She was just too damn earnest.

In many ways: She reminded him of Lily. Firey, obsessed with magic, popular, friendly - brightened up every room she entered. Seemingly cared about everyone. Even him. It was just... pleasant. Familiar. She was a very different person, of course - but interacting with her felt a little like home. Perhaps a few times a little piece of him slipped out to her - something more juvenile and playful than he has been for years.

...That's what I think, tumblr friend B^) I think its a good thing they didn't find out eachother had died. They would have been distraught for eachother.

But if they both lived...? I think she could have been the thing that healed Snape and Lupins relationship. They both care for her - and can at least be civil with eachother for her sake.

Imagine: post-war family BBQ's with Snape and Lupin arguing over how to cook. Lupin wants to prove himself handy but Snape knows he's fucking useless. (Tonks is the true BBQ dad.) Snape babysitting Teddy. He'd be such a good uncle.

EDIT: Remus and Tonks were BOTH awful at potions. Tonks at least became competent through sheer effort - but they still both go to beg him for help when they need anything. I think Lupin/Tonks/Snape would be fun :^)

#hp #severus snape #nymphadora tonks #remus lupin #mywrite #headcannons #this is a ramble I know #im good at that B^)

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deathbecomesthem · 4 months ago

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No pressure, but is this prompt something you’d do??♥️

You both unknowingly book the same haunted Airbnb and find out you're stuck together for the night.

This has been a long time coming. Eddie Munson x gn!reader - +18 ONLY. I don't know what I can tell you about this fic without giving away the plot. 3.2K words.

This is prompt #14 on the Stranger Prompts list that @bettyfrommars @somnambulic-thing and @allthingsjoeq put together in February. I hope you enjoy this.

Prompt: You both unknowingly book the same haunted Airbnb and find out you're stuck together for the night.

---

The cabin is exactly what you need. It’s just what the doctor, your psychiatrist, ordered. A clean break from the city for 3 nights out in the mountains. There’s cell service, but it’s patchy. You found that out on the first night, having to walk all the way to the edge of the property to call in to the office and let them know you’d officially be unavailable for any emergencies while you were out of town. After that first night you find yourself checking that useless brick in your pocket less and less often.

You didn’t pick the cabin because of its reputation. The reviews are immaculate, and not just from the people that come out here hoping for a close encounter with the resident spirit. Your assumption is, especially now that you’ve spent one night here, that the haunting is a ploy to get more people to rent the property. It doesn’t matter to you if there truly is a ghost sharing the cabin with you, as long as it doesn’t leave the toilet seat up.

Right now, you’re lying in the bedroom at the back of the cabin under a heavy crocheted blanket. It smells like cedar and leaves. You left the window open last night, and the autumn air is carrying the scent of decaying leaves into your room. It’s cold on the tip of your nose, but the rest of your body is held in the comfortable warmth of the big bed. With the window open, you can see the night fading away as the sun begins to make its sleepy journey back to the daytime. You decide to follow its lead and start the day.

Coffee tastes better on the back porch; or maybe you’re able to take the time to actually enjoy it without the distraction of everyday life. Either way, you sit on the old wooden rocking chair that faces out into the woods and hold the hot brew up to your still cold nose. Richly scented steam warms your face. You let your mind wander back to the office for a moment to wonder what this Friday morning looks like without your presence looming over your employees. Like a mini vacation for them, having the boss away. Good for them, it’s the least they deserve for putting up with you every day.

The last dregs in the oversized coffee mug are as cold as the air out behind the cabin, and you decide it’s time to relocate. Throw on some warmer clothes and spend some time exploring the property. Last night you were delighted to stumble upon a barn that held a goat. You made friends with the beast for a while, stroking its rough fur and looking into its rectangular eyes. You think you might go see him again today, bring him one of the apples you hauled in with you. You’ll need to make the 20-minute trek to the small grocer in town to get more than just the cheese, fruit, wine, and coffee you brought in with you.

You’re thinking about making a nice pasta for dinner, assuming there’s anything at the tiny shop that could be ground together to make a pesto, so you don’t notice that anything has changed right away. You walk past the pair of boots sitting on the rug at the entrance of the cabin. You walk into the kitchen, not realizing the overhead light is turned on even though you never flipped the switch this morning. You set your coffee mug on the counter next to the jar of crushed tomatoes that wasn’t there half an hour ago. Your brain doesn’t even register the quiet sound of running water coming from the bathroom just down the hall. You’re too busy mapping the path you’ll take up the winding mountain road. You’re already planning the conversation you’ll have with the local that stands behind the counter of the store. Your fingers are practicing the movements of chopping basil and crushing pine nuts (or possibly cashews or walnuts depending on the inventory of the store).

Your lips move in preparatory conversation, “hi there” - “lovely weather” - “just in town for a couple of days up in one of the cabins on Bear Ridge” - “do you have any olive oil?” when a new sound, louder and harder than the tap, stops you in your tracks. A door closed. Not a car door outside, but a door in this cabin. A door just down the hallway from where you’re standing. That sound pulls you right back into the present, which allows your mind to finally see all the things that it missed.

Someone else is in this cabin.

—

Eddie booked the cabin, as he does every year, before the travel season really starts up. It’s necessary, his journey into the forested mountain. It’s different now than it was that first time, more about finding something that’s been lost than holding on to something. He is pulled to that place, the cedar of its walls hold the memories he lets himself forget the rest of the year.

It’s a pretty ride on roads that devolve from asphalt to gravel to dirt the closer he gets to his destination. Dust flies up from his truck tires and into his open windows. He wonders when the last time was these roads saw rain. Too long, from the look of the drooping pines that line the path he’s traveling on. That’s fine, it suits his mood to see nature thirst. He’s thirsty too, his own spirit is bent and dying. He can only hope his time spent alone out here will keep him going for a while longer.

He’s tired, though, and the sight of the cabin creeping up on him makes him feel like he’s being held. It’s what he needs, even if it’s not what he wants, to be called back to the memories. The mid-morning sun sits between the trees and the wooden structure. It welcomes him to the only home he knows how to return to. Eddie throws the truck into park just as he reaches the set of stairs that lead up to the wrap around porch. He sits in the cab for a minute, looking at the front door. He sighs, exhaling out the heaviness of life into the cab of his truck, and leaves it there.

He kicks off his boots and swings his bag off his shoulder just as he steps inside. It smells like cedar and coffee. Familiar scents that make the fine hair on his arms prickle. He begins his routine, putting away the food he brought with him - eggplant, pasta sauce, a block of parmesan and fresh mozzarella, eggs, breadcrumbs, tabasco, whole wheat bread, onion, pepper, garlic, crushed tomatoes, and Irish butter. Staples. These are the things he always brings with him. He makes his way down the hallway to the bedroom at the far end. It’s not the one he stayed in that first time, though he pauses outside of the door of that room to look into it. Dust particles hang in the air, and he’s not surprised to see the sheer curtain move in the breeze of the open window. He smiles to himself and moves down to the blue room where he’ll keep his things for the next three days.

—

“Hello?’ your jump at the sound of your own voice, and scold yourself internally. You clear your throat, “is someone here?”

You think maybe the owner of the cabin has maybe come by for some reason, the thought that someone would come all the out here to harm you in some way is too ludicrous to entertain. Of course, maybe it’s the ghost. Would a ghost wear black boots and buy Newman’s Own marinara? Unlikely. You take a few tentative steps down the hallway, listening hard for any sound that might clue you into who might be lurking in the shadows.

“Uh, hello?” a man’s voice calls back to you from one of the bedrooms. It sounds as unsure as your own. “Who’s there?”

He steps out of the room at the end of the hall across from your own. He’s tall, with a mound of gray curls at the top of his head. He’s dressed in black from head to toe. There’s a scar on his cheek that travels down his neck. This is the man your mother warned you about, the kind that kids in dark alleys with a knife. There should be alarm bells ringing in your head, but the lines at the corners of his eyes are soft.

“Yeah, hello. Can I help you with something?” You ask the man at the end of the hall. You watch his facial expression. His brows pinch in confusion, you think, and he shakes his head.

“I don’t know, Sweetheart. I wasn’t expecting any visitors on my secluded vacation. Not sure what you can help me with.” He’s walking towards you while he speaks. A kind of saunter, possibly to hide some sort of pain.

“Well, this is my secluded vacation, and I also wasn’t expecting any visitors. Are you telling me you booked this place?”

“I’m telling you I’ve booked this place for the same three days every year for the past 20 years. So, yeah. I booked this place. Are you telling me you booked this place?” He stops when he’s within arm’s length of you, close enough to smell the sweat and aftershave on his skin. Up close, you can see that he’s maybe even a little older than you initially thought. 60 at least.

“Well, shit,” you sigh. You tell him your name and extend your hand, “this is some bullshit, maybe I should try to get a hold of the property owner to see what he can do-” you trail off, remembering your lack of cell service, “-which would be a great idea if my cell phone worked out here.”

You look at the man in front of you for some kind of suggestion, anything. You should want him to say, oh no, what a stupid thing to have happened. I’ll go get my shit and get out of here, but you don’t. It’s something in his eyes that makes you hope he’ll choose to stay, even though the idea opposes all reason.

“Well, sweetheart, I don’t bring a cell phone with me out here. Sorry about that. How about we both stay -” he holds up a hand, as if to hold back the rejection you have no intention of offering, “- I’m a quiet guy. I’ll keep to myself. I bet we can get the guy that owns this place to refund us both when we get to a working phone.”

“Well, look at you. I only just met you, and you’re speaking my language.” You give him a big smile, “I’m always looking for a good deal.”

—

The old man, you can’t help but think of him as that, is named Eddie. Edward Francis Munson. He’s from Hawkins, Indiana, but he’s been living in Boston for a long time. Eddie is happy to keep the promise he made, to keep to himself and move around the cabin like a ghost, but not you. You keep finding yourself next to him. Sitting across from him in the small living room, looking over the top of your well-worn copy of The Poisonwood Bible and hoping to catch his eye. Your feet take you into the kitchen while he’s bent over the stove top, asking him what he’s working on. While he’s on the porch, you’re sitting on the stairs to watch the tree line and see what he sees.

“Do you have any kids?” The question, like all of your questions thus far, escapes your lips before you can consider that it may be a rude one.

“No kids, no. There was a time…” you crane your neck to look back at him from your spot on the wooden stairs that lead to the yard from the back porch, “yeah, no kids.”

A pitfall you didn’t see, that’s what that question is. Silence erupts in the space between you, loud enough to make you feel like you’re drowning. You can hear the peepers song through the open window, and are thankful for it. You’re ready to apologize, or crack a joke. You don’t do well when conversation ceases, it’s always been that way. You open your mouth and Eddie waves his hand. He waves away the tension and turns his lips up in a half smile. You can imagine it on the unwrinkled features of his youthful face.

“Well, no kids. Alright. What about a dog?”

Eddie’s laugh fills you with warmth. The question caught him off guard, and tickled him in that way that happens when you’re all bunched up over something sad. The sound of his laughter feels like home. Like a place you used to know. You can feel a smile on your own lips, you’ve caught onto his joy and made it your own.

“No, no dog. It wouldn’t be fair,” he’s wiping the moisture of the corner of his eyes, “I’m not home much. I do have a cat. Scout. He’s more like the neighbor’s cat at this point.”

Every answer he offers sits on the edge of a profound sadness. You can see now that this man is haunted. You begin to wonder if your intrusion on his alone time is wrong. Maybe you should leave him with his ghosts. Or not, you think he might end up following them off into the darkness.

“Well, cats are good. I’m glad you have one. I’m more of a dog person myself, I love that unconditional love and devotion. I accept nothing less from canines. And men.” You’re back to facing the tree line, and don’t see Eddie’s reaction to that. The way his smile fades even more, and the tear of laughter at the corner of his eye breaches his lash line and overflows with the added weight of his sadness.

—

Eddie gets to work on dinner while you’re perched on a high back stool at the counter that separates the cooking area from the main living room. He’s humming something familiar, but you can’t quite put your finger on what it is. The sound is too lovely for you to stop it and ask him what it is.

Eddie’s movements in the kitchen are reminiscent of a dance. You can almost imagine he once had a partner that knew how to do the moves alongside him. He’s dicing onions and peppers and you’re transfixed by the movement of the blade. You take a drink of wine and find yourself on your feet and moving around the counter without even having decided to do it. You open the fridge and get to work.

You find yourself humming along Eddie’s song until you’re singing the words quietly under your breath as you whisk eggs in a shallow bowl. Eggplant parmigiana. That’s your favorite meal, and you’re pleased to see that Eddie knows how to make sauce that doesn’t come from a jar. He even brought Cento tomatoes. A kindred spirit.

The dance continues through dredging and frying. Through slicing thick pieces of bread and mincing garlic. No words spoken, apart from the lyrics of that song you can’t quite recall, yet you somehow know all the words. Just like the dance you never learned the steps to, and yet the movements feel like second nature. You know this, you think to yourself, not fully understanding what that means.

And when the pasta is drained and the garlic bread is toasty, Eddie pours you another glass of wine while you grab plates from the cabinet to the right of the sink. You think nothing of it when you wrap your arm around his waist and hold it there while you pull open the silverware drawer, and he doesn’t remark on it. You’re just moving around him as if you’ve done it a million times, a simple dance of dinner time with this man.

“Sit, I’ll bring over the dishes,” Eddie says to you, rooster potholders adorning his hands. So you sit, a satisfied smile resting on your lips. You look down at your foot, expecting to see your kitten, Scout, rubbing against your leg. His cat's way of begging for a scrap of something. Where is that little beast, you wonder, and the smile you’ve been wearing starts to slip along with your calm.

“That song is driving me crazy,” you say, hoping your voice sounds steadier than it feels. “I don’t know how I know all the words.”

Eddie sets the pan of still bubbling eggplant onto the center of the table. He sighs and looks into your eyes. Left to right, he’s not looking at you as much as searching you. You can see the younger man when you look into his eyes like this, and suddenly you know him.

“Why do you think that is?” Eddie asks you, still looking into your eyes.

“Because you wrote it for me,” you answer him.

He sighs, a sound of relief and acceptance, and dishes out the meal he made for you. Your favorite meal. It’s wonderful to be like this with him, it feels like you’ve been gone for an eternity. You’re so thankful for his presence, that he came here to find you.

“Eddie, I missed you,” you tell him.

“I missed you too. Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere ever again,” he tells you, reaching across the table to hold your hand. You eat that way, hand in hand, running your fingers over the tattoo on his knuckles. Your initials, of course, faded with the passing of the years.

—

You didn’t bother to clean up after dinner. Eddie was too tired. You helped him down the hallway. You helped him undress and get under the covers. You climbed into the bed with him and found that spot at his side - your spot - and curled into him.

You hum your song to him until he’s finally asleep, and follow him into a dream. You’re at the beach with him, it’s the first truly hot summer day of 1995. It smells like coconut sunscreen and salt water. The sand under your feet is hot, and the sun is beating down on your skin. You can see Eddie standing at the water’s edge, his hand outstretched in an invitation.

You wake, not to the sound of bird call, but the sound of an engine revving outside the cabin. You leave the bed and the cold body resting beneath the covers. It’s not important, not when you know exactly what you’ll find when you open the front door.

Eddie’s sitting on the back of his old Goldwing, looking like she was just driven off the lot. His black hair is tied loosely at the nape of his neck in a ponytail, and his hand is out to you again. You run down the steps and climb onto the back of the bike, eagerly wrapping your arms around his center. You breathe in the smell of his leather.

“Eddie, where are we going?” You ask him.

“Sweetheart, I have no idea, but we’re going together this time.”

#stranger prompts #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #anon ask

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