#usually its the female character tile for me

[disregardandfelicity]

Happy Interview with the Vampire is on US Netflix Day, to those who celebrate! 🎉

[fvsm4x]

✧RE(G)RET ; GOJO SATORU . . . . . CHAP 1.

✧SUMMARY: Pregnancy, usually a positive outcome of love between two partners that love each other deeply. But Pregnancy resulting from someone using you for their own pleasure is far from a positive outcome

— C.W: bully Gojo Satoru x female reader , pregnancy , sexual assault & harassment , mentions of abortion , mature themes/MDNI , bullying , angst , gojo is a dick , 18+ , fingering , sucking , nsfw , mature themes , dirty talk , dubcon

— WORD COUNT: 4.7k+

—A/N: I SWEAR GOJO WILL GET A CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT PLEASE DON‘T COME ATTACKING ME IF I WROTE HIM BEING A DICK

— TAGLIST: @watyousayin @zukowantshishonourback @wiqxx @jhutchlover67 @xxemmarldxx @sadmonke @chilichopsticks @neptunieesworld @sodoney @nessielovesfood @polarbvnny @mwtsxri @mynahx3 @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @reader69sviewpoint @emryb @starlightanyaaa @kiramdd @promiseofeywa @xuxieroll @tqd4455 @wateronlyhaha @stillpanicking @starrylibras @latorsgatorz @melancholysanatomy @cherryblossomly @littledemoness15 @thatsopanu @throwmethroughawindow @xkittiecatx @yihona-san06 @aikuoliverswife @mellow-mewow @r0ckst4rjk @virtuapicklequirkreader @heijihattorisgf @meoneee777 @ih8erika @haitanibros0007 @certainduckanchor @alisonyus @nothisispatrick300

NEXT | SERIES MASTERLIST

"No," you whispered, your voice trembling,"No. No. No."

You stared at the pregnancy test in your hand, your breath catching in your throat.

The room seemed to spin around you as you tried to process the reality of the situation. Your hand began to shake uncontrollably, and tears welled up in your eyes, blurring your vision.

Your heart pounded in your chest, its rhythm erratic and chaotic. Each beat seemed to echo in your ears, a constant reminder of the profound impact this revelation would have on your life. Slowly, your legs gave way beneath you, and you slid down the cold, tiled walls of the bathroom. The coolness seeped through your clothes, grounding you in the midst of the emotional storm raging within.

You glanced at the test again, desperately hoping that it was all just a mistake. But the reality of the situation sank in, causing your lower lip to quiver and tears to stream down your face. In a fit of frustration and despair, you threw the test across the room, its plastic casing clattering against the tiles. The sound seemed to reverberate through the silence, punctuating the gravity of the moment.

Your hands instinctively flew to your face, covering your mouth as you sobbed into them. This couldn't be happening. You weren't ready to become a parent, not yet. You were still in college, still young, and this felt like a cruel twist of fate. But deep down, you knew it wasn't a mistake.

The constant bouts of nausea, the missed periods, and the frequent trips to the bathroom left no room for doubt. You had suspected for a while now, but seeing the positive test confirmed your fears.

Thoughts raced through your mind, each one more frantic than the last. How would you manage your studies and a baby?

You couldn't afford to bring a child into the world right now. You were just 18, still trying to navigate your way through your studies, and you still lived with your parents.

To make things even more challenging, the baby you're carrying is from Gojo Satoru, your bully who took away your virginity without your permission.

—

The room echoed with the unmistakable sound of spurrrr, followed by a sudden splashh. A cold sensation enveloped you as something was poured over your head, and a sticky white liquid began cascading down your form, saturating your hair, uniform, and face. The wet strands of your hair clung to your face, covering your eyes in a veil of dampness.

The once pristine white dress shirt of your uniform became a translucent canvas, revealing the contours beneath as it absorbed the relentless flow of the liquid. A chill ran down your spine as the dampness seeped through the fabric, making you shiver involuntarily.

The table before you, once holding neatly arranged notes, became a collateral victim as drops of the liquid found their way onto your meticulously written papers. The carton responsible for this unexpected deluge was carelessly tossed into the midst of your notes, creating a chaotic scene as the remaining contents gushed out, further drenching everything in its path.

It was milk, strawberry milk.

Your gaze fixated ahead, a mixture of confusion and disbelief clouding your eyes as you attempted to process the unexpected deluge of strawberry milk.

As you stood there, momentarily lost in the aftermath of the incident, the air around you resonated with the muffled sounds of laughter. The echoes of amusement began to pierce through the disorientation, pulling you back to the stark reality of the situation. Laughter, a mocking symphony, surrounded you from all directions, each chuckle and giggle magnifying the embarrassment of your saturated state.

Laughter, laced with mockery, sliced through the air as a voice from behind you jeered, "Man, a pink bra, seriously?", you shifted your gaze downward, only to be met with the sight of the pink bra that had become inadvertently visible through the now translucent fabric of your wet shirt, courtesy of the strawberry milk shower.

A blush crept up your cheeks, and your immediate response was to instinctively raise your hand, hastily covering the exposed upper part. Fumbling with the wet fabric, you desperately scanned your surroundings, searching for your jacket to shield yourself from the prying eyes.

However, before you could make a move, an unexpected force gripped your wrist, tugging you forward. The sudden pull exposed your bra once again, and your eyes shot up to meet the person responsible for the intrusive gesture. Piercing blue eyes and a shock of white hair revealed the identity – it was Gojo.

His gaze lingered, assessing the situation with a faint smirk. "I think it looks cute," he remarked, his eyes lingering on you,

"Your taste is seriously something else..." The voice behind Gojo murmured with a hint of incredulity before retreating into the background, leaving you alone with the enigmatic figure.

Desperation edged into your voice as you muttered, "Let me go," attempting to free your wrist from Gojo's firm grasp. However, your pleas were met with nothing but Gojo's lingering smirk, his piercing blue eyes still focused on you as if savoring the discomfort he'd stirred.

His response, a nonchalant, "No, I don't want to," only tightened his grip, compelling you to raise your hand even further, inadvertently granting him an unimpeded view. The smirk deepened as Gojo's other hand encircled your waist, drawing you closer until your body was flush against his.

The proximity left you feeling exposed and vulnerable, the lingering scent of strawberry milk and the dampness of your clothes creating an uncomfortable backdrop. Gojo, seemingly indifferent to your discomfort, leaned in, his voice a low murmur against your ear. "I wonder if your panties are also pink," he teased, his words sending a chill down your spine, widening your eyes in disbelief.

"Wait..." you stammered, attempting to push yourself away, but the maneuver only seemed to pull you closer to him.

A low, contemplative hum escaped Gojo's lips as his hand, previously resting on your waist, began to go down. The touch trailed down your back, skimming the curve of your waist before settling on the contours of your ass cheeks, positioned above your skirtt and then slipping beneath the fabric.

A hushed protest escaped your lips as you whispered, "Stop," the warmth of a blush creeping up your face as his hand delved further, finding its way under your panties, intimately resting on your bare skin. The audacity of the intrusion left you breathless.

"C'mon, don't get shy on me now," Gojo chided with an unsettling nonchalance. "No one's here." His words echoed in the room, and you glanced around, realizing with a sinking feeling that everyone who had occupied the space before had dispersed, leaving you alone in the confined space with Gojo.

"I'm busy, please let go," you pleaded, attempting to push Gojo away, the urgency in your voice belying the embarrassment and discomfort that churned within you.

His response, a taunting, "Don't be shy, I know you want it,"

You felt a shiver as Gojo pressed himself against you, his bulge uncomfortably noticeable against your stomach. His hand, previously holding your wrist, ventured under your dress shirt, revealing the pink bra. Instinctively, your hand moved to intercept his advance, wrapping around his invading hand.

"Please stop," you pleaded, hoping he'd respect your discomfort.

A dismissive "Shut up" escaped Gojo's lips, his grip tightening as he continued, "I know you want it, so let me give it to you." His audacious words hung heavy in the air, making your vulnerability more palpable.

With a furrowed brow, you tried to resist, but the unwelcome touch persisted, leaving you feeling trapped and violated.

"I noticed the way you looked at me," Gojo asserted, "Always in those little skirts, clearly trying to grab my attention~. You wanted me to notice you, and now you have it, so don't act like you didn't ask for this."

His hand, previously on your exposed ass cheek, ventured downward, slipping into the delicate crevice between your cheeks, reaching the wetness at your folds. With a deliberate touch, he pressed two fingers between the folds, skillfully massaging the sensitive flesh, coaxing a whimper from your lips.

"So wet~," he murmured into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. His fingers traced slow circles around your sensitive bud of nerves, his words a seductive whisper, "Just for me, right?"

A whimper escaped your lips, your hand finding its place on Gojo's arm as you attempted to pull him away. In response, Gojo pressed into your clit, evoking a cry from your lips, the sensations tingling through your body.

"Don't try to stop me, sweetheart," Gojo murmured into your ear, his voice a sultry promise that heightened the intensity of the moment. He continued his relentless touch, coaxing more desperate sounds from you, his lips gently kissing the sensitive skin of your earlobe.

"You love this, don't you?" he teased, his words dripping with confidence. "You can't resist me," he continued, his fingers exploring every sensitive inch,

Your attempts to resist only seemed to fuel Gojo's determination. He increased the pressure on your clit, each touch sending waves of pleasure through your body, making it harder to focus on anything else.

"Don't fight it," Gojo urged, his voice a seductive whisper against your ear. His fingers danced skillfully, exploring your most intimate areas. "You're mine, and I know exactly what you need."

He punctuated his words with teasing strokes, a wicked grin playing on his lips as he reveled in the effect he had on you. The room seemed to spin as your defenses crumbled under the skillful touch, and your hand, once attempting to pull away, clutched onto Gojo's arm, seeking support in the escalating whirlwind of sensations.

"You're so responsive," he commented, his breath hot against your skin. "I can feel you clenching around me." His fingers continued their dance, the rhythm building, pushing you closer to the edge.

As you whimpered in response, "Let go, sweetheart. Embrace the pleasure. You know you want it," Gojo urged.

"I wonder what your brother would think about this," he mused, a sly grin playing on his lips. "Imagine the expression on his face when he discovers his little sister being fingered by his best friend. You truly are a slut..“

A feeble "S-shut up," escaped your lips, the whispered plea laden with a mix of vulnerability and desperation. Your eyes fluttered, slowly rolling back as Gojo inserted a finger, the intimate touch sending a wave of conflicting sensations through your body. A trace of your juices glistened on his hand, a tangible testament to the overwhelming desire that filled the room.

"You're so wet, literally dripping," Gojo observed, his voice a low murmur that echoed the satisfaction in his growing smirk. His free hand went to the cups of your bra, pushing it down and exposing your breasts. Your right breast became the focal point as his hand gripped into its softness. As he descended to an eye level with your exposed breast, his mouth opened, and he latched onto it with an undeniable hunger.

As Gojo's mouth covered your breast, he started sucking on your nipple with evident hunger. His lips sealed tightly around it, and his tongue began teasing circles, sending shivers through your body. The sensations grew more intense as the rhythmic sucking continued, prompting involuntary moans.

In an attempt to resist, you tried to push Gojo away, but he only intensified the suction.

You whimpered as the conflicting sensations of pleasure and resistance enveloped you. Gojo, undeterred by your feeble attempts to resist, continued his relentless assault on your senses. His fingers skillfully worked, dancing over the intimate areas, amplifying the intensity of the encounter.

"Such a good girl, letting yourself feel what you truly desire."

—-

You found yourself seated on the floor, bathed in the dimming sunlight that filtered through the window. The room had taken on a languid hue as the sun descended, marking the culmination of an encounter that seemed to leave more than just physical traces.

Your shirt hung open, showing a pink bra struggling to keep it together after the heated rendezvous. The smeared lipstick and mascara were clear signs of the passionate escapade. As you sat there, your legs trembled, and the lack of panties beneath your skirt hinted at the intimate moments that had unfolded.

The room felt both intimate and lonely as everyone, including Gojo, had left, leaving behind the aftermath of a liaison that blurred the lines between pleasure and regret. The echoes of your recent escapade and the missing panties were the only remnants of Gojo's presence.

At first, you hesitated, reluctant to lose your virginity to someone like Gojo. But eventually, you caved in, and you can't deny it felt good. You shoulder the blame for giving in – you enjoyed it, just like Gojo did.

Gojo is – a jerk, a player, who engages with women, gets what he wants, and then moves on. You unwittingly became one of his victims, transitioning from being bullied by him to being involved intimately with him.

You deeply regret giving in to the situation, feeling an overwhelming sense of remorse. If only you could turn back time and take action to prevent it from happening. But unfortunately, it was too late.

Slowly rising from the cold floor, you hastily grabbed your jacket and tied it around your waist, desperately hoping it would conceal the fact that you were not wearing any underwear at the moment. With your backpack slung over your shoulder, you began to make your way towards the exit, your legs trembling and unsteady.

Every movement you made caused a sharp hiss of pain to escape your lips. Your legs were sore from the intense encounter with Gojo, the person who had taken advantage of you. You couldn't help but wonder if he even realized that you were a virgin.

As you retrieved your phone from your backpack and turned it on, you were met with a flood of missed calls and messages from your brother, who happened to be Gojo's best friend. Glancing at the time displayed on the screen, you realized it was already 6 pm. You were supposed to be home by 3 pm, but Gojo had held you captive, causing you to be late. While you doubted your parents would be concerned about your tardiness, your brother certainly would be.

Just as you were contemplating your next move, your phone began to ring, displaying your brother's caller ID. Despite the pain and emotional turmoil you were experiencing, a weak smile formed on your face as you answered the call. The sound of loud shouting immediately filled your ears, a clear indication of your brother's worry and concern for your well-being.

"Where are you?" he shouted anxiously, causing a mixture of emotions to stir within you.

"Don't worry, I'll be home soon," you reassured him, your voice barely above a whisper. With your free hand, you carefully wiped away the smudged makeup on your face, attempting to regain some semblance of composure.

"I'm asking you where you are!" he yelled once again, his voice filled with frustration and fear.

You couldn't help but let out a soft chuckle, a bittersweet response to his genuine concern. "I got held up here, but I'm fine. Please, don't worry about me," you replied,

„Should I come pick you up?“ he asked, his voice calming down.

You thought for a moment before replying with a short,“yes“

You figured it was better to wait for your brother then walk home, with no panties and sore legs.

Your brother replied,“Okay, I‘ll be there soon, wait for me, yeah?“ before hanging up.

After your brother hung up, you stepped out of the building, greeted by the gentle tones of the setting sun casting its warm glow. The wind played with your hair as you settled down by the stairs, patiently waiting for your brother to arrive and pick you up.

The events of the day echoed in your mind, and the weight of both regret and discomfort lingered. The building's facade cast long shadows as the sun continued its descent, creating a tranquil scene that contrasted with the turmoil within.

As the sound of approaching footsteps reached your ears, you couldn't help but feel a mix of relief and apprehension. It was your brother, finally arriving to pick you up. His concerned expression softened as he laid eyes on you, and you mustered a smile in response.

"I hope you didn't wait too long," he spoke, his gaze lingering on your figure, perhaps noticing the slight dishevelment.

"Don't worry, Suguru," you replied, trying to sound more composed than you felt. Walking together towards his car, the setting sun cast a warm glow over the world, signaling the end of a tumultuous day.

Just as you reached the car, your brother paused and turned to face you. "Oh, before I forget," he began, opening the door for you to get in. "You wanna come with me and Satoru to the bar today? It's your—"

"No," you cut him off abruptly, causing him to look at you with a questioning eye.

"Are you sure? I mean, it's your favorite place," he asked again, genuinely perplexed by your sudden refusal.

"I'm not feeling well. I just want to stay home," you lied, your voice betraying the mix of fear and shame that consumed you. The truth was, you couldn't bear the thought of seeing Gojo again. The fear of facing him, coupled with the overwhelming shame of what had transpired between you, made the idea of going to the bar unbearable.

"If it's because of Sat—" your brother started, only to be interrupted by you once more.

"No," you replied firmly, cutting off any further discussion. Your brother was aware of the constant bullying you endured from Gojo, how he treated you with cruelty and spite. However, he always brushed it off as his best friend's way of dealing with you, believing it to be harmless banter. Little did he know the true extent of the pain you endured.

The weight of the day's events hung heavily in the air, overshadowed by the looming apprehension of your brother discovering the truth. It was a delicate and complicated situation, as your brother shared a deep bond with Gojo, forged through years of friendship. Their connection was akin to that of siblings, and they had been inseparable for as long as you could remember. Both a year older than you.

This closeness only intensified your anxiety about how your brother might react if he were to uncover the events of the day. It wasn't just the fear of his disappointment or anger towards you, but also the possibility that he might side with Gojo, potentially jeopardizing their friendship. The thought of losing your brother was a heavy burden to bear.

You were scared. Scared of the repercussions, scared of the judgment, and scared of the uncertain path that lay ahead.

As you sat in the car, the soft glow of the streetlights illuminated the night sky, casting a darker hue of blue. The stars twinkled above, creating a mesmerizing backdrop for your thoughts. Lost in your own world, you barely noticed the car coming to a stop until a hand gently rested on your shoulder, bringing you back to reality.

"We're here," your brother muttered, stepping out of the car. You followed suit, opening the door and stepping out into the crisp, chilly air. Suguru closed the car door, and together, you made your way towards the apartment building where your family resided. Each step felt heavy, weighed down by the events of the day.

Entering through the front door, you kicked off your shoes and made your way towards your room. However, before retreating to the solace of your own space, you stopped by the living room where your parents sat, their attention fixated on the television.

"I'm back," you muttered, hoping for some acknowledgment or perhaps even a warm welcome. But your words seemed to fall on deaf ears as your mother barely glanced in your direction.

Feeling a pang of hunger, you mustered the courage to ask for dinner. "Do you have any food for me? I'm kind of hungry," you spoke, placing your backpack by the couch.

"We already ate, and there's nothing left. Go make your own," your mom replied dismissively, her attention still fixated on the television screen.

Desperate and feeling unwell, you pleaded with her. "Could you please make me something? I don't feel well and just want to lay down."

Her response was cold and unsympathetic. "No, we're busy."

Resigned to your fate, you sighed and picked up your backpack, making your way towards your room. The hunger gnawed at your stomach, but the exhaustion from the day's events weighed heavily on you. You threw yourself onto the bed, feeling drained, both physically and emotionally. A throbbing headache pulsed through your temples, and the pain in your lower body served as a constant reminder of what had transpired earlier.

Though your hunger persisted, you couldn't bring yourself to do anything about it. The thought of mustering the energy to cook or even eat felt overwhelming. All you wanted was to escape into the solace of sleep, hoping that tomorrow would bring some semblance of peace and healing.

-

"Are you okay?" a concerned voice murmured from behind the closed bathroom door. "You've been in there for a while now. I just want to make sure you're alright."

You glanced up from the positive pregnancy test that lay on the bathroom counter, your eyes meeting the door. The weight of the situation hung heavy in the air, and you struggled to find the words to respond. Instead, you simply stared at the door in silence.

"Are you okay?" your brother's voice came again, filled with worry.

"I'm okay," you managed to choke out, your voice trembling as you fought back tears. "I'll be out in a few minutes."

"Alright," your brother replied, his voice filled with understanding. "I'll wait for you in the living room. If you don't feel up to going anywhere, just let me know. I can go alone."

"No, don't worry. I'll come out in a few and get dressed. Then we can go," you replied, wiping away your tears with your sleeve and slowly getting up from the bathroom floor.

"Alright," your brother's voice drifted away as he walked back towards the living room, his footsteps fading into the distance.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, the evidence of your emotional turmoil was apparent – red eyes, swollen cheeks – you looked like a mess. But how could you not, discovering you're pregnant with someone you never wanted to be involved with? Sure, you played a part by giving in three weeks ago, but it was his fault too.

As a university student, you had limited financial resources, relying mostly on the support from your parents. However, they were not particularly generous, and it was Suguru, your brother, who provided the love and financial assistance you needed. Without him, you didn't know how you would have managed. He was the only person who truly cared for you.

You turned on the water tap and cupped your hands, splashing the cool water onto your face in an attempt to calm yourself. It helped, if only momentarily. Drying your face with a towel, you left the bathroom and made your way to your room to get dressed.

What were you supposed to do now? You were barely an adult, and the realization of your pregnancy left you feeling lost and overwhelmed. Without your parents and brother, you had nothing. The thought of them finding out filled you with dread. You couldn't blame them for being disappointed in you. In fact, you were disappointed in yourself too.

What would your brother think? The thought of his disappointment weighed heavily on your heart. You couldn't bear the idea of letting him down. And what if your parents found out? There was no doubt they would be upset. The fear of being kicked out of the house loomed over you, but you pushed those thoughts aside. Dwelling on them would only make them more likely to happen.

And then there was Gojo. How would he react when he found out you were pregnant? Given his track record of casual relationships, it was unlikely he would be thrilled. Would he tell you to get an abortion? Would he offer any help at all? Or would he simply mock you and tell you to deal with it on your own? You knew he wouldn't be happy, and the thought of his potential humiliation and disbelief made you shudder. It was best to keep it a secret, you decided.

As you turned around, ready to face the day, you were met with the stern gaze of your parents. "Explain this to me right now, young lady!" your mother yelled, throwing something at you. You caught it, only to realize it was the forgotten pregnancy test. The room filled with tension as your heart sank,

"I can't believe my daughter is like that. A whore." The accusation hung heavy in the air as your mother's words sliced through the tension. The pregnancy test in your hands became a damning piece of evidence, and you felt the weight of their disappointment.

Your mother's face contorted with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "We've been giving you everything – money, food, and a roof under your head – and this is how you repay us? By getting pregnant?"

You struggled to find words, to explain the complexity of the situation, but the lump in your throat made speech nearly impossible.

"What were you thinking?" your father interjected, his voice a mix of frustration and disappointment. "We trusted you, and you've thrown it all away."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you attempted to form an explanation. "I... I didn't plan for this. It's not like I wanted—"

"Don't give us excuses," your mother interrupted, her anger unabated. "This is a disgrace to this family. How could you bring such shame upon us?"

Your brother, having heard the commotion, entered the room. His eyes widened as he took in the scene. "What's going on?" he asked,

Your mother pointed at the pregnancy test, her anger not subsiding. "Look at what your sister has done. She's pregnant. Pregnant!"

Your brother's eyes flickered between you and the pregnancy test, an unspoken question etched on his face. The air grew thicker with tension as you struggled to find the right words to explain. Your mother, however, seemed past the point of understanding.

"Get out," she declared, her voice cold and unyielding. "You've brought enough shame to this family. I won't have you tarnishing our reputation any further."

Shock and disbelief painted your brother's face as he tried to interject, "Mom, maybe we can talk about this."

But your mother's anger prevailed. "No more talking. She's made her choice, and now she needs to face the consequences."

As the reality of being kicked out settled in, your heart pounded in your chest. You pleaded with your family, "Please, I didn't plan for this. I need your support now more than ever."

Your mother's expression remained unforgiving. "Support? After what you've done? You're on your own now. We won't enable your irresponsible behavior any longer."

Your brother, torn and unable to defy your mother's decision, could only meet your gaze with a pained expression.

With a final, stern look, your mother declared, "Pack your things and leave. You're no longer welcome here."

Numbness spread through your limbs as you realized the irrevocable shift in your life. Your mother's command hung in the air, and the reality of being disowned by your own family was a crushing weight on your chest.

Staring at the pregnancy test still clutched in your hand, you felt a mix of shame, regret, and desperation. The room, once a haven, now seemed like a foreign place ready to expel you.

[earthtoplum]

hellraiser. // eddie munson. (3)

pairing: eddie munson x female!reader - stranger things cast x female!reader

summary: Between school, band practices, D&D nights and shitty parents, you and Eddie have created the perfect little secret life together. The town of Hawkins despises him, but not you. You're head over heels for the son of a bitch. About to graduate, the two of you are ready to run out of Indiana the moment those caps go in the air, but the inevitable Hawkins Curse creeps its way back into town, and takes hold of what you once thought was untouchable.

word count: 8k (getting longer and longer)

warnings: mentions of sex, mentions of drinking, language, SEASON 4 SPOILERS.

a/n: hi, thanks for being here! :) I keep writing this at the speed of light. Posting for myself, really. Follows the storyline of Season 4! Beware of spoilers in case you haven't watched the masterpiece. Loved writing this part, I love writing the characters, ah!

*gif not mine, creds to whoever owns*

visit me on wattpad!

three. the cheerleader

The white kitchen tile was cold beneath your feet where you stood with the fridge door wide open searching for something to drink. Only awake for a couple of minutes, your body was begging for you to put anything in it. Snatching the last Coke from the bottom shelf that Tina probably forgot to get rid of, you crack it open and take the smallest sip, the bubbles stinging your tongue.

Your parents were in the living room with Jeffery and Marshall. Looking in there as you came down the stairs you saw the boys on the floor in front of the TV working on their school projects as your parents watched the news. Tina was up as you came in the door last night, surprising you. She was with Marshall in the kitchen you were standing in now wiping tears from his cheek while he drank a glass of water. A heartwarming scene to anyone other than you, someone who can’t get past the fact that they’re getting the mother you never had.

Crossing an arm across your front, you rest the elbow of the other on it to balance the can of soda by your lips thinking about how even right now she was in the other room giving the boys pointers on their work, possibly crouching down to her knees to help them cut and paste things, and you knew the boys were eating it up. 

The awkward air between you two as you walked into the kitchen last night was so thick you could’ve cut it with a knife, or the sharp eyes she was looking at you with. You could think you were keeping things a well hidden secret all you wanted, but she knew the t-shirt you were in didn’t belong to you. She mentioned how you were home later than usual, and you had to remind her that it was Hellfire night. Her eyes took you in up and down, your unruly hair, your baggy clothes, the shoes she didn’t buy for you.

Then she looked to Marshall, placed a hand to his cheek as her expression softened, and told him it was time to try to go to bed, and ushered him up the stairs.

She didn’t ask you how the club was, she didn’t question how you got home. If she had you would’ve told her that Gareth drove you home, and that it was a blast because Gareth is the nicest friend you have. He asks about your day, and he actually listens. Not many friends know how to do that, most listen to talk, and talk about themselves. Maybe you would’ve told her that Eddie left Hellfire to help out a, friend, in need, and that he wasn’t the bad guy everyone cracked him up to be. Much like Gareth, exteriors do not match interiors, the cover cannot be judged.

“Get. Your ass! In here!” Is shouted from the living room, followed by a shrill shout of your name. Nearly letting the soda slip from your fingers, you jump, place it on the counter behind you and rush through the archway to find your parents on the edge of the couch, three feet away from each other, with a twin in each of your mothers arms. She was watching the news anchor on the TV with wild eyes, your father glaring at you with worry. 

“What?” You hurry to ask, you haven’t heard them this scared ever in your life, “What!” You shout, darting your head back and forth from the TV to your family. Neil points a finger to the screen, and that’s when you see it.

A shockwave of panic ripped down your spine and into your knees where they gave out and sent you to the floor. Shuffling toward the set as fast as you could, you crank the volume up and whisper a guttural, “No.”

Nausea rose within you as you heard the words and read them on the screen. A Hawkins student was murdered.

And this woman was standing in front of Eddie’s trailer.

Sucking in a deep breath that takes control of your lungs abruptly, you feel your arms start to shake and fingers go numb. 

Not Eddie.

From behind you your name is spoken, you can’t tell by who.

Not Eddie.

On the couch someone says that they don’t know who it is yet, but you can’t tell who said it.

Not Eddie.

There’s a soft cry happening behind you, one of your brothers.

Your name is spoken again. Filled with adrenaline, you whip your head around to your family watching you. Your mother and her perfect hair was crouched on the carpet in front of the couch, reaching a hand out toward you. The colors in the room felt like they were vibrating. Growing brighter and brighter until it seemed they may burst like a lightbulb being force fed too much electricity.

Her nails were painted yellow, her favorite color. Painfully ripping your teary eyes from hers, you glance down to her hand and gulp. Unaware of how violently you had started to tremble, you tried to lift your own, but you were completely paralyzed.

“Listen… I’m… For you…” Tina spoke. The room spun around you. 

“They didn’t… Not released…” Neil spoke. You looked at him in what felt like slow motion, and it was making you sick. He didn’t seem worried at all, in fact, your panic induced paralysis made him seem smug. He watched the woman on the screen who was still speaking with a raised eyebrow. You swore he wore a hint of a smirk.

“...Cursed…” He muttered something else, every other word being understood as your palms started to sweat. Tina’s palm faced you, waiting for you.

“Ever since that girl Barb died a few years ago, it has been one thing after another…” Another woman on the TV was talking. The pain of your old friend's name resurfacing stabs you further in the heart. The town hasn’t spoken of her in ages.

“Only this happens at the trailer park,” You snap your head to look at your father who was sitting up tall, speaking loud and proud, “And you saw whose place they were looking in? What have we been saying for years, Tina?” More tears spilled from your eyes, and they started in your mothers. She gave her hand a small shake, begging for you to take it. “Someone else in Hawkins is dead, and look where they were searching.”

“Neil!” Tina shouts, turning her head.

“Fuck… you,” You mutter, springing to your feet. Calling after you, your mother stands and rushes to the bottom of the stairs that you just thundered up. Both of your brothers were in tears, your father doing nothing to console them. Instead he shakes his head and leans back on the cushions to finish the story.

Up in your bedroom you slam your door shut, pacing around the floor, raking your fingers through your hair trying to calm your breathing. Throwing open your dresser drawers, nothing was satisfying your eye to change into. The world was still spinning, it was like looking through a microscope. You had to get out of here, you had to make sure it wasn’t him. Not him.

Grabbing your denim jacket you pull it over your shirt and hurry to your window, throwing it open without a care to who hears it. Following through, you acrobat your way to the ground, into the backyard.

Downstairs your mother is still at the bottom of the steps, calling out your name when your father tells her to come sit down.

“She’s not going to come back,” He huffs, “Let her mope, this is Barbara all over again.” Tina sighs, hanging her head.

“We weren’t there for her through Barb,” She says, “Neil, what kind of relationship do we have with our daughter?” She comes back into the living room and scoops both boys under her dainty arms again.

“She doesn’t want one! Hasn’t that been clear?” He shoots her a glare, “You try to protect your children from monsters, and it pushes them right into their open arms. Now look at what's happened. Either that boy is dead, or he’s committed a crime I’m not too surprised about.”

The thud of your feet hitting the living room roof makes everyone jump. 

“What in the hell?” Neil mutters, standing to his feet. Marshall clings to Tina with fear, still crying into her shoulder, “She’s really not gonna come back in here.” 

“Why?” Tina asks, shifting the boys into each other's arms so she can stand next to her husband. Neil points to the fence he just watched you climb over.

“She just jumped out her window,” He nods, crossing his arms. Gasping, Tina rushes to the front door, yanking it open, and sure enough there you were running in your Converse across the street heading straight toward Eddie’s. She calls your name twice, and the strain in her voice almost makes you turn around, but with the tears staining your cheeks you keep running.

“You were meeting with Chrissy,” You whisper to yourself, sucking in deep breaths as you rushed, “I was supposed to come over,” Your heart sunk further into your stomach that was a rioting mess, “I should’ve… fuck, I should’ve come over.” Guilt starts to fill the empty parts of you now. You could’ve done something to prevent this.

You ran until his house was in view, and the sight was unnerving. Sure, the cops have been called here before, but there’s never been an ambulance out front or this many people. A crowd was surrounding the news trucks, ample words of worry and fear being shouted to the innocent people just trying to do their job and report on the situation. Slowing down beside one of their vehicles on the outside of the commotion, you spot Eddie’s neighbor from across the road. The little freshman with red hair, the one who was friends with the freshman in Hellfire. She was standing on her porch with, you guess, her mother, who wore the same expression as your father.

Twisting your head the other way as you hear the sheriff’s voice speak, you spot Wayne sitting on the picnic table at the end of the street with a cigarette in his hand. He was staring at the ground, and was incredibly still. Eddie wasn’t there. 

Elbowing your way through the mess of people who glared down at you, you hurry to his side.

“Uncle Wayne?” You ask quietly, your voice shaking. His tired eyes are the only thing to point to you. He sighs at the recognition of you.

“He’s not here,” He says, and tears well up in your eyes, “Wasn’t here when I came home… Wasn’t here when I… found her.”

“Her?” Your voice cracks. With wide eyes, you take a step toward him. Wayne shakes his head ominously, looking back at the trailer with narrowed eyes.

“I’ve seen a lot of shit, kid. I mean it. A lot. Been through all of it,” He says before dropping his tone, “But, I ain’t never… seen anything like that.”

“Chrissy?” You whisper, and Wayne looks you in the eye, “Ch-Cheerleader?”

“Mhm,” Was his answer, then after a few minutes of silence between the two of you he turned his head, “It wasn’t him,” He says, “Don’t know where he went… but, it wasn’t Eddie.” 

About to ask him another question, a reporter from the Hawkins Post cuts you off from a distance, hurrying over to Wayne who gives him a look of disgust. 

“Go, get,” Wayne whispers to you, shooing you away with the cigarette in his hand. The reporter's eyes are on you as you turn heel and walk toward the entrance to the park. Glancing toward Eddie and Wayne’s trailer, a chill runs over you when you see them loading a stretcher into the back of the ambulance.

“Hey,” Is said from behind you, to you, catching you off-guard. Stumbling on the rocks, you turn and find Eddie’s neighbor at the end of her yard, looking at you. “Yes, you,” She tilts her head and motions for you to come closer, “I’m Max,” There it was, “You probably don't know me, but I know you. God, that sounds totally creepy,” She shakes her head, “Uh, Eddie’s not here.” Taking a breath, you shove your hands in your pockets and nod excessively. 

“Yup,” You say quickly, “People keep telling me that.”

“He drove away last night,” Max’s tone is barely a whisper, but her words are intriguing, “I saw him.”

“You saw…” Stepping closer to her, she jolts her head back at the sudden loss of personal space, “Where? What? What happened?”

“Can we go somewhere else to talk about this? There’s somebody else I need to talk to,” Her eyes scan the premises, skeptical of the other people in the area. You didn’t have a plan to go back home. That was actually the last place you wanted to be right now, what you wanted was to find Eddie. This freshman never gave you a bad feeling, and it was kind of nice that she seemed like she wanted to help.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” You stammer, “I just… I need to find him.” Max gestures to her trailer where her mom had gone inside now.

“Only for a second,” She assures you, “I’m gonna change, then we can go.” Nodding your head, you fold your arms around your body, glancing back to Eddie’s trailer once before following Max inside her home.

“Who’s place is this?” You ask with a hint of anxiety still in your voice. You figured it’d be there for a while. Looking up and around at the beautiful one story home you were standing on the porch of, Max turns over her shoulder to look at you. She thins out her lips as she takes in your jittery being.

“Dustin’s,” She says, calm, surprised that the name makes you jump.

“Henderson? Dustin Henderson?” You ask with persistence, and you’re answered with the opening of the door, the very boy you speak of on the other side of it. A bit of relief comes over you as you look at each other. The two of you were just together last night at Hellfire, maybe Eddie had come here, he loved this kid. However, when he and Max share a moment, his energy shifts. 

“And… you two are together… how?” Dustin asks Max after he shuts the door of his bedroom. Max explains the morning to her friend who starts to pace back and forth. Finding a spot on the wall by his closet, you sink to the floor and cuddle your knees into your chest listening to her side of the story.

“Chrissy Cunningham?!” Henderson exclaims, “You’re sure it was Chrissy?”

“Yes,” You and Max both respond.

“In her cheerleader outfit. Same thing she was in when I saw her with Eddie,” She continues, and Dustin eyes you where you sat staring at the floor.

“Did you not go with them?” He asks you. Turning your chin to look up at him where he pauses his pace, you lower your eyebrows.

“Gareth took me home,” You tell him, and his face distorts.

“But you’re dating,” He states.

“Yup,” Your tone is flat, Dustin moves on.

“Did you tell all of this to the cops?” He asks Max, turning away from you.

“No,” She says, “But, I can’t be the only one who saw them together. They stood out.”

“I saw them together,” You speak up, “I watched them get in the van together, I watched them drive away last night. I fucking kissed him goodbye!” Dustin and Max both pause and look at you staring at them with a crazed look, one that might’ve resembled Eddie’s.

“How long’ve you guys been together?” Max mumbles quietly.

“Okay, but still!” Dustin shakes his head, “Eddie the freak and Chrissy the cheerleader?” That was twice in three days you’ve heard those words. Eddie the freak. You very well could have told them why Eddie was hanging out with Chrissy, but you decided to keep it to yourself, the poor girl’s life was just taken from her. Eddie told you so many times how it seemed like she was going through something, and that all he wanted to do was help her. There wasn’t any way in the hell that is Hawkins that Eddie had done this.

While the freshman spoke, you let your gaze fall back down to the floor, chiming in with a scoff or a sigh when you heard one of them say something utterly ridiculous, like how Max compared Eddie to Ted Bundy. You were siding with Dustin, the curly headed boy finally giving you a sneak of a smile. Dustin felt bad for you as much as he was worried for his friend, and you knew you only saw him in school, but he looked up to Eddie. He was their leader, their protector, the one who saved them from four years of total doom. You were both connected now.a

When the two sit down on Dustin's bed, you watch with confused brows as Max quietly speaks about what went on before she saw Eddie run out of the trailer. Wincing at the thought of him screaming, you bite down onto your bottom lip.

“The look on his face… He was scared, Dustin,” Max states, giving her friend a worried look. A knowing look. There was something else. “Really scared. Maybe he was scared because, you know, he just killed someone, or… maybe, um… maybe because… I don’t know, um…”

“Something else killed her,” Dustin says, and Max snaps her head to look at him. You were lost until you thought about Barb, and the theories people were coming up with after her death was announced to the public. Kids were making up horror stories, some too gruesome to even imagine would be real. Her death was a tragic accident, there didn’t seem to be a connection between these two events happening… not in the way they both passed.

“But that’s impossible right?” Max asks, laughing through her worry.

“I don’t know… it should be,” Dustin sighs, rocking his head.

“What are you two talking about?” You ask, and they both jump as if they forgot you were there, “Chrissy was murdered.”

“In your boyfriend's trailer,” Max says, and before you can say anything snarky back to her she continues, “And he wasn’t there.”

“There is only one person who knows what actually happened,” Dustin says.

“Eddie,” You and Max say simultaneously.

Barrelling toward the front door of Dustins, you follow right behind the freshman who give a short, quick goodbye to his worried mother after listing the names of their friends they needed to get in touch with. Nancy’s name had been dropped, and to you it made no sense. You never hung around your brother's friends.

Trotting down the stairs off his porch, you come to terms with the fact that you may just have to see Nancy if you’re going to be hanging around these two.

“What are you riding?” Dustin asks as he hops on his bike. Looking down at the pink bike that looked as if it was on its last life, you sigh.

“My old bike,” Max smiles, not mentioning the tiny tantrum you had when she offered it to you because you just cannot seem to escape the color pink.

“When’s the last time you rode a bike?” Dustin laughs, digging at your age.

“You have a lot of balls when Eddie’s not around,” You laugh with him, feeling refreshed with the sudden lightheartedness. Maybe these kids weren’t that bad. “Where are we going?” 

“Family Video,” Dustin wiggles his eyebrows sarcastically, and sighs at your confusion, “You’ll see. When’s the last time you talked to Steve?” You choked audibly and laughed.

“Steve the hair Harrington?” You say, and the children are unfazed, “I’ve spoken to him maybe twice in my life. The guy’s a douche.”

“Hey!” Dustin spats, adjusting his hat, “That guy is a hero.” You roll your eyes and nearly snort.

“Sure, okay, Henderson,” You egg on, “The only heroic thing I’ve seen him do is tap a keg.” The kids share a look of disapproval.

“No one knows anything,” Dustin grumbles, pedaling forward on his bike, “Onward, ladies.” 

It’s not that you forgot how to ride a bike. You forgot how demanding it was. Dustin and Max seemed like they could do this for hours, and they probably did. When you were in middle school you enjoyed this sometimes, but not all the time. Many feet behind the kids, you were sweating and trying to catch your breath. It was entirely unappealing, you preferred a much different style of cardio.

Family Video finally came into view and you gasped out of joy, Max turning back over her shoulder to see if you were alright. Tossing the bikes to the ground you take a deep breath and realize the other two are fine. Dustin asks you if you're good, and you nod, using the bottom of your t-shirt to dab away the sweat on your forehead. Max gives you another small smile, and for a split second, you return it.

The store was small, but inviting. You can remember coming here on Friday nights with your parents when you were younger so that you could pick out a movie and a snack for the weekend. Dustin led you guys inside, greeting the used to be crowned king of Hawkins High, Steve Harrington.

“Hey, Steve,” He says.

“You see this?” Steve asks, his eyebrows making their home in the center of his forehead as he points at the TV hanging on the wall. The other girl behind the counter you recognized from school, Robin. She was in the band, and she knew how to talk.

“How many phones do you have?” Ignoring Steve's question, Dustin leans forward against the counter. Looking up behind them, Steve and Robin notice you and their eyes widen. 

“What’s she doing with you?” Robin asks quietly.

“Y-yeah, wait, I’m confused,” Steve mumbles beside her. He was a lot calmer than he used to be. Forcing your lips into a little smile, you roll your eyes and nod your head once. “Someone was murdered-”

“How many phones do you have!” Dustin persists, and the two behind the counter look at one another. They seemed pretty comfortable with each other, sitting closer than any co-workers would normally be.

“Two. Why?” Steve says.

“Technically three, if you count Keith’s in the back,” Robin points out. 

“Yeah, three works,” The freshman agree, and start to set up camp behind the register at Family Video. Dustin flings his backpack and himself over the counter, knocking over strategically set up tapes from the older two who shout at him as he does.

“Are you guys not busy?” You ask, walking around the other side with Max, gesturing toward the movies that fell onto the floor. Robin shoots you a disappointed look, one that you smirk and shrug at. She looked pretty with the way her hair was styled, she never got done up for school this way, which has you putting together a theory. Robin and Steve the hair Harrington were a thing. You’ve had class with Robin before, she was funny, and she could do way better than Steve- unless this hero thing with Dustin has anything to do with it.

“Nice pants,” She digs at you, picking up her videos. Looking down at your legs you laugh at yourself.

“Left the house in a bit of a rush,” You say quietly. Shamelessly you were wearing dark blue, accented with light blue, striped pajama pants. The pants probably went great with the white Motley Crue tour t-shirt you wore with your jacket and Converse.

Robin looks up from the floor and smiles, “No, I meant it. I like them.”

“What are you doing, man?” Steve groans, watching Dustin take over the computer.

“Setting up a base of operations here.”

“Base of operations?” Robin asks, looking around at the three of you. She finishes cleaning the floor of the VHSs and gives you another quick look.

“Get off,” Steve says.

“No, I need it,” Dustin pleads.

“Need it for what?”

“Eddie’s friends phone numbers,” Dustin says, and Steve scoffs. You make yourself comfortable, hopping up to sit on one of the counters, smoothing out the lines on the pants you giggle at yourself for wearing. Robin smiles at you.

“Oh, your new best friend Eddie you think is cooler because he plays your nerdy game?” Steve taunts.

“Hey,” You whine. Steve waves a hand at you.

“Yes!” Dustin exclaims, then looks at him, “I never said that.”

“A little jealous, Harrington?” You tease, chiming into the conversation. Steve glances to you.

“Isn’t he your entire personality, why do you even need to look this stuff up?” Steve turns back to Dustin. Clapping your hands a couple times, you gesture them back at his back.

“See, Henderson? Douche,” You grin, and a laugh escapes Max.

“Yeah, seriously,” Dustin takes a second to glare at Steve who dramatically rolls his eyes.

“You guys, maybe on a Monday you can play around in here like toddlers, okay, but it’s Saturday,” Robin parents, stacking the video tapes back on the counter, “It’s our busiest day.” 

“Robin, I love- Robin. I empathize, but this cannot wait until Monday,” Dustin says a mile a minute, and Steve groans, dragging his hands down his face. You look over to Robin who turns to you with a silent laugh, bringing up your bitchy joke from earlier. Crickets were chirping in this place.

“What so calling all of Eddie’s friends is an emergency? You have one right here,” She throws an arm in your direction before continuing to clean up the mess that was made.

“Correct!” Dustin cheers. Steve directs his attention to Robin, helping her straighten up.

“Uh, d’you want me to strangle him or do you want to?” Steve jokes.

“We could take turns,” Robin sighs, almost leaning back onto his chest. Yup, definitely a thing. Steve turns back to the kids that were murmuring to one another, giving you a chance to check out Robin’s pants. She definitely had to wear them for work, but you liked them too.

“Can you fill them in while I do this?” Dustin asks Max.

“Fill us in on what?” Robin is frustrated as she turns around, having you divert your eyes from her choice of clothing. Taking a deep breath, Max obtains the undivided attention from the olders and gives them the story of the situation, starting with last night. You helped her fill in details from your side for the previous night, leaving out why Chrissy and Eddie were together. Steve’s eyes linger on you as you brush off how weird it looked to anyone who didn’t know why they were together, he seemed concerned. You wanted to tease him, maybe ask why it bothered him, had he been in those shoes before? But, you stop yourself because you realize he has.  Those couple of months you spent with Jonathan Byers told you plenty.

At the end of the story, Max did the same thing she did with Dustin, she implied the possibility of ‘something else’ doing this, losing you again. With the mention of this you figured she’d lose Robin and Steve too, but instead it sent them into a frenzy.

Family Video was then swiftly turned into an investigation station. Papers, everywhere. Robin found a white board and started listing names and numbers while you stood with her to help her fill in the details. Gareth’s parents were called, Eddie wasn’t there.  One person told you guys to check the arcade to which you and Robin both shook your heads, stifling laughs as she told them she really doesn’t think Eddie is there.

At one point, as you sit on the counter again flipping through pages that Dustin had written out, Steve comes to your side and leans his back on the edge. Looking at him without turning your head, you continue flipping, hoping that any of these names in the plethora of choices you had would be a winner. Steve looks down at the chicken scratch and clears his throat.

“What do you want?” You ask, placing the book on your knees. Steve looks at you, then turns away with a shrug.

“Nothin’, nothin’…” He mumbles, then faces you completely, “So, you and Eddie,” He begins, and you groan, “W-wait, hold on,” He holds up a hand, “This whole thing doesn’t add up. Are you guys still dating? I mean, why was he with Chrissy at his house alone last night…” Robin’s attention is piqued, you catch her looking over her shoulder at you.

“Yeah, we’re dating,” You say quietly, “Trust me, I know what he and Chrissy were up to.” Steve clenches his jaw.

“It’s just fishy,” He says.

“Fishy?” You snort, Robin laughing with you.

“Shit is fishy! No guy would-“

“Wrong,” Dustin held up his pointer finger, his attention focused forward on his work, “Eddie is a man of his word.” Steve scoffs, rolling his head backward.

“You said his uncle works nights, he took a cheerleader home,” He drags out his words for emphasis while you sit patiently, waiting for him to finish with a smile on your face.

“Relax,” Robin kicks a foot backward to collide with his knee, “Big boy’s a little insecure ‘cause he can’t get a girlfriend.” 

“Yeah, and, Steve, they do it like… all the time. They’re not breaking up,” Max chimes in, making your eyes go wide. She shrugs, slightly cringing, “We live in a trailer park.” Pressing your lips together you let out a painful chuckle, and look back to Steve and Robin bickering.

“I’m sorry, did you say Harrington can’t get a girlfriend?” You smirk. Robin grins with glee and nods. “I really thought you two were together when we came in here.” Both of them freeze, snap their necks to look at one another, and start dying laughing.

“Trust me, I’m not into Steve,” Robin giggles, waving her hands around. Dustin groans where he’s at at the computer, going to his book to scribble out another name.

“Am I the only one working here?” He shouts, looking back at the circus that broke out behind him. 

“Yeesh,” Robin sneers playfully. Everyone makes their way back to their posts, but Robin is sure to catch your attention first. She points at Steve and gives you a thumbs down, then she cuts at her neck as if her previous statement of not being into Steve wasn’t enough indication for you.

The front door of the store jingles and a girl in her twenties waltzes in, her done up eyes scanning the shelves happily. 

Robin clears her throat, “Pretty one, Stevie, go.” She whispers, and holds up a hand that fingers are counting to three, and once the third one is in the air, Steve is planted right beside the girl with an elbow on a shelf smugly.

“She is pretty,” You say, admiring the way the brunette was dressed. Robin steals a glance at you, both of you eyeing one another for some reason. Robin’s eyes travel downward to your pants. Smiling the smallest smile, she gently shakes her head and goes back to her work.

A considerable amount of time passes, and about a hundred phone calls seem to be made. Whoever owns this company is not going to be happy when they get this phone bill. Gareth ended up calling back just to check on you. Max had him on the phone when he started to talk about Reefer Rick.

“Hey guys, I think I might have a lead,” She spins around with confidence after hanging the phone up.

“Seriously?” Dustin almost spins off of the stool he was on. Putting down the papers you were holding next to Robin, you both turn around to listen to the red head.

“Apparently Eddie gets drugs from some guy named Reefer Rick?” She starts, and you nod, really fast.

“Yeah, Rick,” You say, and Robin taps your arm for not thinking of this sooner.

“Sometimes Eddie crashes there,” Max says, then looks at you, “Have you ever been there?” You nod again.

“Once or twice,” You avert your eyes around the room as you think, “But it was really dark. I  think that was the window we broke into…” Robin glances to the freshman in shock, but she knows they’ve heard and done worse.

“Well this sounds promising, where does this Reefer Rick live?” She asks, holding her hands open.

“See, that’s the thing. No one knows,” Max says.

“He’s more of a legend than someone that people actually know,” You bob your head, trying to pull together memories of nights at Ricks, but rolling around half naked on his couch with Eddie didn’t seem appropriate to share right now. Thinking about how you got there, you couldn’t even piece that together. It was summer, it was hot out, and you were really drunk.

“What about a last name?” Dustin asks hopefully. You shake your head and Max answers with an, “I don’t know.”

“Bet the cops know a last name,” Steve says, coming back to the group after escorting the pretty brunette outside. He had started organizing some of the video tape baskets.

“What?” You question.

“The cops,” He restates, “I mean listen, this Reefer Rick, if he’s actually a drug dealer, I guarantee you he’s been busted at some point. Means he’s in the system.”

“The cops?” Dustin scoffs, “Really, Steve? That’s your suggestion?” 

“I think they should be filled in on what we know, on what’s going on,” He suggests. You straighten up, feeling a bout of rage in your chest. Dustin slides off his stool, his eyes are wide.

“You think Eddie’s guilty, don’t you?” He asks, and your hands tighten into fists. Robin notices and reaches for one of your wrists.

“Whoa,” Steve flings his hand around, “I believe in innocence until proven guilty, all that constitutional shit. I just, yanno, don’t think we can rule it out.” Ripping your hand away from Robin, you slam them both on the counter in front of Steve and stare him down. The jock flinches, then slowly turns to meet your eyes.

“If you think, for a second, that we’re involving the cops, I will tear that snug little vest off of your body and shove it so far up your ass it’ll come out of your ears,” You snarl, making Max laugh quietly. Steve stares at you in shock, “I know Eddie. He didn’t do it,” You lower your voice for only Steve to hear, “He can’t even smack me across the face while we’re doing it in the back of his van without checking seventeen times if I’m okay,” Your words have him looking elsewhere, “So, let’s spend a little less time looking for a girlfriend, and a little more time trying to find the son of a bitch who I love, oh, so, very much.” 

“Oh, wow, I’ve got it,” Robin sighs happily, hurrying over to the computer.

“What’re you doing?” Max asks, peering over her shoulder. Your standoff with Steve ends when you push away from the counter, maintaining eye contact until he breaks away, then you turn over Robin's other shoulder.

“Maybe we don’t need a last name,” She says and types the name Rick on the keyboard, hits enter, and twelve Rick’s appear on the screen. Clicking on each one, a list of movies that they’ve rented comes up, so you use that to narrow down which Rick would be your Reefer Rick.

Rick number five is the winner. Rick Lipton.

“I would’ve never guessed his last name would be Lipton, that seems so simple for a drug dealer,” Dustin says, making you all laugh in a way.

“What’d you expect? Rick Marijuana?” Robin teases, and Dustin groans as the group laughs louder. She announces Ricks address, mentioning how it’s a perfect place to hide, right by Lovers Lake in the middle of nowhere.

“Oh my god, the lake!” You exclaim, clapping your hands together. The four of them look at you curiously. Dropping your hands by your side sheepishly, you shake your head, “Another thing I can’t… share with the class.”

“My god,” Steve huffs quietly, “You make me want to not find this dude, for your sake.”

“Let’s go,” Max says, and everyone breaks into a rush except for Steve who takes his time, the two of you in another standoff.

“Harrington, when was the last time you-”

“Uh uh,” He demands, “Not going there,” He throws his vest on the shelf under the computer as Robin laughs at him in the background, “But like… are you good?” He genuinely questions, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Am I what?” You ask, folding your arms defensively.

“Like, are you okay?” Steve cracks a smile, pulling on his jacket, “I’ve known you for, what, an hour? And I’m pretty sure I have a good idea of what your sex life is like.”

“Come on, ladies,” Robin sings as she hurries for the door with the freshman. 

“I’m fantastic,” You smile at him, “I’m sure you’d love to find out.” Laughing dramatically, Steve tosses his hair backward and slowly shakes his head.

“We’re leaving,” He snickers, trying to bury his growing curiosity.

By the time you got out to Lovers Lake it was dark, everything suddenly becoming a lot more familiar. The car ride here was a little awkward, being shoved in the car with four people you barely knew wasn’t your idea of fun. Robin let you sit up front next to Steve so you didn’t have to be squished between the freshman.

Steve pulled down the dirt road slowly, the streets out here were terribly dark. Robin was right when she said this place was great to lay low. Studying what you could see out the glass, you agreed with yourself that this place seemed a lot more exciting after a drink or two. The house was also just as dark, not a single light was on.

“Hope your boy’s not afraid of the dark,” Steve mutters after turning the radio off.

“He’s not,” You say quietly, looking past his glorious head of hair to check out the windows of the house. Steve smirks, nodding.

“‘Course he’s not,” He says to himself. Parking the car, leaving the keys in the ignition, the kids pour out of the backseat with determination- well, at least Dustin did. The longer you were around him the more you learned to appreciate how ambitious he was. Clunking up the stairs as a group, Dustin rings the doorbell, and you all wait patiently.

Then, he rings it again. And again. And again, and again-

“Okay, well that’s settled. Guess he’s not here,” Steve says, holding up one of the flashlights so Dustin could see the door.

“Eddie! It’s Dustin!” The freshman starts to knock, making you, Steve and Robin hush him. Tapping his shoulder you scrunch up your face and shake your head.

“Not a good idea,” You whisper.

“Look we just wanna talk, no cops, I swear. We just wanna help,” Dustin says after knocking again. Robin points her flashlight to the left, starting to walk that way around the house.

“Robin,” You whisper, harsher than before, “Robin!” She didn’t stop. There wasn’t anyway you’d be caught lurking around Ricks at this time of night alone, so you figured you’d better follow her.

“You don’t remember anything from here?” She asks you once she feels your presence behind her.

“Uh,” You stutter, and gesture to the window on the side of the house, “I unlocked that window with a broken belt once. Eddie… tossed me inside… I helped pull him in.”

“Fun,” Robin pops her brows and blinks a few times. You both hear Steve hush Dustin at the door again who started to shout names, still obnoxiously ringing the doorbell.

Looking into one of the windows that Robin pointed her flashlight into you spotted the living room and the couch you spent nights on. The kitchen looked like it was a mess, but it always was. Beer bottles were thrown wherever they pleased, and butts of cigarettes laid around everywhere.  You’re also sure you saw a carton of milk open on the table. There wasn’t a suspicious thing about his place, but you’re sure half of this group would think otherwise.

Behind you and Robin, Max wanders to the side of the house, shining her flashlight to whatever laid beyond it. Her brows were furrowed above her eyes.

“Hey, guys?” She shouts, getting you all to hurry to her side. When the shed behind the house came into view, you audibly gasped. Pushing past Max’s shoulder, you’re bounding for the door until feet rush up to you and a hand grips your shoulder. Thinking it’s Harrington, you spin around with a nasty glare in your eye only to find Max.

“What are you doing?” She whispers, and your gaze softens.

“Going to get him,” Your tone is a bit harsh at a whisper, but you couldn’t help it. There was a high change that Eddie was in that shed, and you needed to see him. You needed to wrap your arms around him, you needed him to kiss you and tell you that everything was going to be alright. If anything, he needed that from you, too. You weren’t going to waste anymore time standing around with a group of goody-two-shoes when he was right in arms reach.

“Maybe you shouldn’t go first,” Max keeps her voice low, “Just in case.”

“In case of what?” You sigh heavily, bouncing on your toes.

“Shock? Grief? I dunno, I just feel like you should wait here,” She was pleading with you, “We don’t know what’s in there, and… knowing what we’ve seen in the past… It’ll be better if it’s one of us.” Sliding her hand off of you, she nods her head and you slowly join her.

“Okay,” You take a few steps back, “Come get me when you deem it’s safe enough.” You flitted your voice in a silly, spooky pattern to make her smile, and it’s successful.

Wandering around the metal walls for a couple of minutes, the group shines their lights into the windows, scoping it out before Robin pushes the door open with a polite, “Hello?” She jokes to lighten the mood, something you noticed she does, but she gets no answer. Outside the air has gotten a lot cooler than it was when the sun was up. Pulling your jacket around you tighter, you curse yourself for not picking better pajama pants last night. You spin around in a little circle, taking in Rick's property. It was a cute place, and definitely somewhere Eddie would come to hide. 

The house was like a cabin, and those were always cozy to you. All the memories that were made here at Ricks were happy ones. You hoped that this one would be too.

With the crickets and nighttime creatures prowling, you can hear the voices of your acquaintances coming out of the open shed door. You figured, another day with them and you’d consider them friends. Max and Robin? Definitely. Dustin? Getting there. Harrington? Questionable, in more ways than one.

You debated sitting down on the grass, but nighttime dew was already setting in so you remained on your feet. Looking out onto the lake, you take a long deep breath and appreciate the crisp night air. This was the best time in Hawkins. Nothing compared. You think about Eddie and that one day when all of this blows over, and you’ve graduated, and life is good, you two can come out here. Hell, maybe you move out here instead of out of Indiana completely. 

A deep scream rips through the air, then coming from the shed, multiple voices shouting.

“Eddie! Eddie! It’s me!” You hear Dustin shouting, sending your feet running for that door so fast you’re sure you’ve kicked up the dirt, “This is Steve! He’s not gonna hurt you, right Steve?” Pushing it open with two hands, you land behind Robin, grabbing her shoulders to bring you to a stop. Looking past Dustin, Steve is pinned to the wall with a broken beer bottle pressed to his neck held by a hand that glimmered when the light hit it.

“Eddie,” You say just above a whisper, and his head snaps around, still holding onto Steve with a mother of a grip. He exhales, like he’d been holding it in for days. “Eddie, let him go,” You say calmly, though your legs were like jelly. He was out of his mind, something wasn’t right. Weaving your way around the kids, you step up onto the wooden platform the boys were on, and you hold out a hand.

“Come here,” You nod, tears stinging your eyes the closer you get to him and his pain stricken eyes, “Baby, come here,” He drops the bottle, startling Steve, “Mhm, now let him go, he’s nice.” Eddie’s eyes were stuck on yours. He released Steve from his grasp, Harrington fleeing to behind Dustin, and instead of reaching for your outstretched hands, Eddie stumbled toward the corner and slid down on his back.

Putting your hands behind your back feeling silly, you shuffle sideways to where he wandered and squat down. Eddie jumps at your abrupt movement, holding up his hands in defense. His bottom lip trembles. He’s looking at you through the top of his eyes with his chin tucked low.

“Did somebody hurt you?” You speak gently, keeping your cool- it’s harder than you thought. Eddie vaguely shakes his head, his eyes focusing on the ground. “Have you been here since last night?” He doesn’t answer. “Eddie, hey, we want to talk.” Nothing. Leaning forward a bit, you whisper to him, “Give me something, Princess, I’m having a conversation with myself here,” And it gets him to look at you with a little more Eddie in his eyes. You fight past the tears and smile, opening your hand for him again.

“Let me help you,” You encourage, then tilt your head back to gesture to the group, “Let them help you, they’re the ones who got me here.” Eddie’s eyes flicker to the others, Dustin looking at him with the same hope as you. They meet eyes and Dustin gives him a small wave.

“I’ve been so worried about you, all day,” You say, glancing down to your open palm, “I thought… thought whatever monster took her took you, too.” Eddie shivers, then takes your hand gently.

“You’re… You’re not gonna believe me,” He shudders, sucking in a breath. Robin, Steve, Dustin and Max scoot closer.

“Try us,” Max simply shrugs. Looking from the group, to Max, to you, Eddie sniffles and nods once.

“Hang on,” He whispers, and grips your hand tighter, pulling you into his body where he throws his arms around your back. Slipping yours over his shoulders, you let that wall break and the tears come spilling out. One of his strong hands draws a circle on your back, and you swear you feel him holding back his own tears. Leaning his head backward, he rests his forehead on yours to look at you and he’s flooded with the feeling of safety. 

Eddie was already an imperfect soul, but after today he seemed broken in more ways than one. You bring your hands to the sides of his face, slipping them into his hair, and you press a kiss to his lips that he sinks right into.

“It’s gonna be okay,” You whisper to him when you pull away. He uses his thumbs to wipe underneath your lashes. “We’ll be okay.”

“Eddie,” Dustin says softly, getting him to look his way, “You need to tell us what actually happened.” Eddie’s eyes meet yours again and he finally cracks the tiniest of smiles.

“Stay right here,” He whispers. 

Comfortably sitting with Eddie on the floor of the shed, between his legs with his arms draped around your body, you listen with the others as he tells the story of what happened last night. With the coaxing of your soft hands on his he made it through, but still threw away the ending, telling you all you won’t believe him. With tears falling for Chrissy, you lift one of his hands and brush your lips over his knuckles.

“You know how people say Hawkins is… cursed?” Dustin asks, “They’re not… way off.” And that’s when you get your explanation of what the group had been discussing all day. You learn about the Upside Down.

[taesiccc]

~Café Notes~

PAIRING: Taehyung x Reader (f), Namjoon x Reader (f)

GENRE: Yandere au, fluff, slight angst?

RATING: Teens and up.

WORD COUNT: 6.4k

DISCLAIMER: Mentions of all characters and events occurring in this writing are fictitious and only written solely for entertainment purposes. 

SYNOPSIS; You receive these peculiar notes and it's no longer appealing or cute when they start appearing in your bedpost. It's only starting to get creepy..

AU/NOTE: This is an oneshot/drabble. I wrote this in a hurry so editing is a joke.🤡 Read the end for more notes.

The bell chings as you enter the cafe. The shift was usually light during the noons which didn’t totally mean relaxing in the aroma, It also meant lesser staff. As an university student, part time jobs weren’t surprising to you but it still meant extra effort. Also, working in a cafe was not always fancy like that. Every job has its own cons and yours was the shift timing. It constantly changed to its own comfort, destroying every other plan you schedule for the day. Just another month and hopefully you'll hopefully be able to get an organized agenda like your manager promised.

Converse feet drag along the familiar tiles immediately putting you in character. The same apron, the same name tag, the same ambiance with a slightly different set of people but, one thing remains the same.

The note.

‘Luv ur smile! :)’

The note read. You’d normally appreciate compliments but this was starting to get a little creepy. These notes simply keep coming and it was growing evident with the fact that it was meant only for you. No 'from' name was ever mentioned, nor was there any evidence of this person.

Eventually, It felt cute when they started; even so having you write back notes and sometimes even storing them but once they’ve started appearing on personal visiting spots or even your front door; nothing has been the same.

You weren't seeing anyone at the moment and its not like the cafe staff were super close or this nice to begin with. Except for some staff, same aged as you but to think those female staff were lesbians, didn't set accurate to your accusations. Costumers? Well..your shift was never the same and you haven't heard from any other staff of receiving notes like these. You were turning worried, fearing if you've acquired a stalker or some sort. You weren't an influencer to attract weirdos but you were aware that its very much possible for an ordinary student like you as well.

Changing shifts or even writing them back to stop didn’t work. The notes were still very visible and still very readable. You feel yourself become more like a paranoid, skeptical with anyone you met. You stare at the note once again before crumbling it and tossing it over the bin.

“That was so close!” You flinch at the sudden invite.

“Oh- I thought…your shift was over?”

“That’s no way to greet your coworker, I mean I understand- I’ll just leave if you hate me” he pouts as he states, making you roll your eyes at him.

“Will you ever stop being so dramatic Taehyung?” you stare in disbelief.

“Maybe, one day…but the world will live to regret missing a sweet person like me” he grins knowing he'd earn a sigh from you.

“And uhm, looks like your secret admirer left you another note!”

“About that-

“Didn’t you store them? Like you always do? And why? didn’t you like the message?” he interrupts and you feel your body tense at the moment.

“Hey relax- it was just sticky and nasty so I.. uh preferred to pass that out” you lied.

Taehyung was soo convinced that it was your secret admirer! At times you even find yourself contemplating if that was true. But to you, it just seemed like a novel thing. He was nothing to blame since he has a knack for fascination. He just self proclaims his love for romance and hearing another lecture leaving his mouth about how it’s apparently a “deadly sin” to deny a ‘pure form of love’ can wait for another week. He even says that you're lucky for something like this. Taehyung is not necessarily delusional but in most cases he does behave like one. He’s basically a childishly adorable dude that you’ve managed to befriend but definitely don’t regret.

At times he makes it look like he's left the notes then later tell you that he was lying all about it. and it wasn't one day but several times making you check him off the list, a lot frustrated. He is most probable to do stuff like this but, you'll immediately be able to make out since he's built like 'captain obvious'.

You still have an eye on him in case he's actually doing it; so you can get back at his ass for having you in constant dilemma for all this long!

--

“This feels so nice!” You sip the hot beverage. It was usually another staff that worked this shift with you but leave takes for substitute.

“I didn’t know you guys drank off of the company! Should be illegal right?” he sounded baffled.

“Yeahhh? But we kinda just accidentally switched off the cameras one day and started drinking some”

“Did you just say ‘acci-den-tally’? Geuss what? You can miss me that shit!“ he scoffs.

“It’s okay then. Just pay for that beverage you’re drinking right now and hopefully 'Sir Taehyung' can live in righteousness” you spoke rather unamused as he peaks through the fifteen bucks worth drink before reviewing your comment.

“Never mind. I think our boss deserves this for the ridiculous prices” he gulps the hot liquid while you spurt out a hearty laugh.

--

It was great spending time with Taehyung. He was like the only genuine friend you owned. Even tho you only got to see him at the cafe, he was always there by your side when you needed someone. He’s taken care of your sick self at bed, sometimes even buying you chocolates and candy during your cramps. It surprised you to experience so much care coming from a somebody. You weren’t necessarily childhood friends but still friends to an extent. To be honest, you just loved how he was being sincere with you and you appreciated it a whole lot. That was something really remarkable about him.

He insists recording all your favorites or anything to begin with yourself as a sense of growing your friendship. You were initially weirded out by the fact that he lend ‘matching charms’ for both of you within four days of meeting but nothing surprises you now that you’ve known him. He’d send birthday cards and cupcakes for the entire birth month until it was finally your birthday. He got attached way too quickly and his actions constantly make you question his sanity; only to conclude that he was being nothing but a sweetheart and much of a gem you didn't wanna miss!

“See ya dingus!”

“Goodbye beautiful! Sleep tight!!”

You wave Taehyung and shut the door behind you. Hurriedly you shake yourself off the clothes before plopping yourself on the bed. You feel slightly uneasy laying down as you toss over to the other side. The scent feels oddly different but puts you to sleep very soon.

---

The next day you leave for university and seat yourself through the lectures. Calculus class was always shit but it feels more terrible today. Your eyes droop uncontrollably, barely seeing anything around you. You’re feeling a lot sleepier than usual so you stretch your limbs hoping to feel refreshed but it seems impossible for you to focus.

Would a class of sixty three know if you were to take a friendly nap? The lecture itself sounds like lullaby at this point. You cross your elbows and lay your neck by the seat soon dozing off officially.

**

I woke up feeling a little cold. It was as if I could finally open my eyes for the first time. My limbs ache and I wish to lay a little more if not my attendance begging for dear life. My cheeks felt moist; it’s probably just my drool.

Once I’ve lifted my head up I immediately feel the urge to sleep again. Regardless, I stretch my hands above and yawns leave my mouth a little too loudly. I wipe my cheeks with my sleeve, ready to finally get out.

As I rummage through my bag I feel a pair of eyes on me. I look besides me and a boy, almost twice my size looks at me while I stare back confused. The corner of my vision distracts me to a stain on his shirt that looks crooked. I keep looking back and forth until the thought finally hit me.

‘Did i lay on him? And god- could that be my drool? Shit!’

--

You feel your lids widen at the sight also feeling very much embarrassed of yourself. You quickly look over to his eyes that crease in a matter of seconds. He presents himself before you could; interrupting from telling anything.

“It’s okay! Don’t worry about it!” he says as he overlooks your panic.

“I’m really sorry about that! I really am! Is there something I can do to-

“It’s completely fine miss, you don’t have to do anything” he smiles but it only makes you more guilty and embarrassed.

“I apologize again, I-I probably gave you a lot of hassle all this while- is there something I can-

“Hey- calm down. It’s no big deal, really! It’s a normal thing so no biggie!-' he assures still having you look anywhere but his face.

'-Do you think I’ve not drooled when I sleep? let go…Don’t even worry about it!” He smiles again patting your shoulder. You feel awkward standing there visibly having nothing to say. The silence falls; his tall frame standing there while the clock ticked. Your insides torture you to tell something that could maybe help fill the void-

-

“How about I treat you a drink!" I ramble and his eyebrows furrow at my offer. I was scared for a second; Later realizing how I sounded; I regret putting that up like some creep trying to hit on him. Should have sounded absurd and sudden..

"or...or this would make me feel terrible for the entire day” I say, trying to make the intention much much clearer this time.

Relief rush through me as he chuckled, highlighting his dimples to my sight. He looked handsome and appeared really polite with his gestures. A smile crept down my lips, feeling rather comfortable this time. A good man like him definitely didn't deserve drool stains! At least I was convinced..

“You don’t have to” he smiled ruffling his hair, still flaunting the pair of hollow dimples.

Maybe it isn't too bad to hit on him after all..

“I insist”

--

I was practically jogging beside him. His steps were wayy too longer and faster for someone with an average height. It wasn’t really my shift but I’ve decided to get this over with. It just felt like I was deserved to waste my twenty bucks on a drink especially for a stranger in consideration to what I did. I totally deserve this. I confess, my sleep schedule is trash but blaming it for my actions? That's a little too much.

--

You were in the midst of classes, still hurrying to buy this guy his drink. You didn’t know how many classes you have missed but dear, you had to hurry.

“What would you like?” your fingers tap the counter slightly impatient.

“Uhm how about we both get drinks? It’s a little awkward for me to drink while someone watched” he chuckled lightly, rubbing his nape.

Normally at these situations you would lie to someone about your financial status basically being a bitch to your expenses and excuse it with something else but it was not like you were gonna see him everyday and engage in amazing conversations about space and neither could you come with a lie so quickly. well.. it didn't even matter if you lied anyway! did it?

“Erm..I’m kinda low on budget right now, it’s cool if only you had it. It's fine, I don’t feel like drinking one” you admitted with utmost decency.

Although these are some very embarrassing series taking place altogether in a day, you didn’t currently care but you knew you’d recall this one day and fall down a pit of dipshit you’ve done all along.

“If that’s the case, I’ll pay for the drinks!” He supposed as you feel yourself blush at the sudden offer, making you appear slightly tinted due to the embarrassment.

“Uhm..I’m the one that’s supposed to pay for you.. some other time?..maybe?” you speak in uncertainty, not sure where this was going.. as if you expected to meet him again?

“I insist. How about you give me company instead of buying one?” he anticipated for your reply while you froze in serious thought.

“Take this as my favor miss?” he smiles, tilting his face to look at yours.

You didn’t know if it was him that made you come to terms with his deal or if it was your budget anymore. You didn’t know what to say either but couldn't bring yourself to deny with whatever he had to offer. You’d be hesitant to agree but you were certainly welcomed by his charms that appeared way too attractive than it should have.

--

The drinks were bought and being slurped on by it's owners. You haven't talked a lot other than the basic things exchanged in a conversation; to even call it a conversation would be a crime. You just sat besides this random guy, pretending to be very calm and casual while in reality you sucked the life out of this drink, wanting to get to your classes. You just wished you didn't choke on it and make it any awkward.

"May I know your name?" he spoke a little sudden as you successfully choke on your drink like you hoped not to, startling the boy beside you. He leaves and hurries back with some water lending it to you also putting your drink aside in the process.

You don't divert you gaze as you feel your cheeks burn to his actions. You concentrate on drinking the water before answering his queries.

"Are you okay?" he assures as you nod in response.

"Yes and thank you for this" you say between coughs pointing to the bottle.

"Don't mention it"

Soon the silence fills, hurting you physically to stay there.

"We never- "And about my-

You interrupt eachother making a very clumsy conversation. You did not enjoy any impressions you were giving him from the beginning, even so wondering if he regrets inviting you for a drink.

"ha ha so uhm like i was saying, we never exchanged our names?" He talks again bringing you out of your thoughts. He seems to want to know about you while in your perspective, you start to contemplate if he was interested in you.

Your mind takes a turn suddenly making you anxious to face him but you set aside these temporary thoughts, finally stating you name. Something you should have done in the start.

"Right! Yes. my name is y/n. you?"

"Namjoon. Kim Namjoon." He pronounces as he smiles.

"That's a nice name. It's got a wise meaning to it actually, I'm not sure if you know that-

"Wait..Really? I've always been interested in name analogy- just that I wasn't sure if anything was ever authentic. They say name analogy varies from horoscopic inspection which i think is utter hogwash! There is a clear line distinguishing both astrology and and scientific observations! Don't you think?" He rapped them all in one go. He sounded really consumed in topic making him look like a reporter.

You took in all of his words, somewhat amazed but still managed to scrutinize them. His eyes glistened as he looked at you; really eager to know your opinion.

"Woah- so name analogy is not fake after all." You mumbled at the thought.

"Mind elaborating?"

"My uncle does these things and I basically grew up listening to them and he's had people asking him to analyze the name 'Namjoon' and according to him, it means 'something genius from the south' and surprisingly, It's not fake at all!" You tell him, getting a little lively about the experience also complimenting him on the side.

"Damn..Thank you! I'll flaunt that around for a bit now!" he jokes earning a genuine chuckle from you.

The day passed but it didn't even look like it! You spent all your time talking with Namjoon and maybe even walking around for a while and it felt really warm having his company. It's safe to say you liked his calm but talkative nature or that you simply liked him. You observe attraction to Namjoon but also do not want to make a fool out of you in the end. It could be an infatuation but until then you just know you've got that crush!

Like wise, like the gentleman he is, he leads you safe at your doorstep, biding you with a goodbye and pleasant night wishes. This day was not any other day but a very pleasing day in your life. It was certainly very pleasant unlike your first impression but turned out way better and modifying than you expected it to go like. With that being said, you flee off to your bed with circling thoughts about him.

-

The bell chings as you enter the cafe. Converse feet drag along the familiar tiles immediately putting you in character. The same apron, the same name tag, the same ambiance with a slightly different set of people but, one thing...disappears?

You don't see the note.

As much things made you felt suspicious and off, you were equally happy it was ending. The door chings again as you look over. Your moody face turns contented as you watch him walk in.

"Taehyung!" you wave but he seems nonchalant. His lazy steps make their way into the counter, completely ignoring you. Now, you were sure something was very off with his behavior. You look out the counter making sure no one came, before strolling behind him. He works like a soulless frame, showing no acknowledgement of your presence. It almost makes you cringe.

"Tae? You okay?" You halt. His hair fled down like he'd just woken up. He ties his apron around his abdomen, making it clear that he refuses to face you. You think before your hand flinches at the shudder voice.

"Yesterday. Where were you?" he sounded stern, tying his apron repeatedly for what took like two seconds.

"..I...was..." your words trail to think of something else. You didn't know why you didn't just expose the fact that you met someone you liked but you knew that you wanted to tell it first to him more than anyone else until the second you really saw him.

chime!

The café calls for service and you leave the place. It wasn't disturbing to you the way Taehyung acts but it set you at unease to see a different side of his.

You lavish yourself, free from thoughts and continue blind copying orders.

"What can I get you sir?"

"Your company?"

Your eyes deviate at once looking over to the man with a greenish trench coat. Foxy eyes, rough yet supple hair, and undeniably adorable dimples. You almost sigh as he coughs catching you off guard. Your cheeks blush severely burning your insides. He grins in return, quite flushed himself.

"The usual" he says, making you frown; "yes?" your voice sounding almost like a whisper. You clear your throat collecting your voice, gulping down any signs of fidgety.

He chuckles, before he talks, quite rasp as you find- "You know what? drop it. HEY! EXCUSE ME?!"

He beckons Taehyung to the front. Taehyung roams his way around reaching out to your side. "Just get me a Espresso con Panna and y/n what do you want?" you struggle to grasp before he orders something else for you, pulling you out with him. You look back at Taehyung who stares back idly.

You smile sheepishly, before sitting down with Namjoon. Things were escalating quicker and you didn't even wanna judge. Although you liked spending time with him, it still concerns that you were very much at work.

"HELLO? YOU" not too long but you hear from the counter. His loud voice captures everyone as Taehyung signals Namjoon to come over while you insist that you leave. "Why? doesn't he work here? Sit." he orders. You hesitate to sit nonetheless follow.

He removes his trench coat revealing a thin fabric shirt poorly covering his buff chest. Your eyes wander elsewhere, shocked over the impact over sized clothes can hide. He retracts backwards gesturing Taehyung to come over instead. It makes you uncomfortable to see Taehyung act so unfamiliar but watch helpless.

His walk slugs along your table finally scenting his scent.

"What's the matter?" Namjoon demands rather harshly. "We don't have whatever you asked for" he replies, detached. "Fine. Just get me coffee black".

Taehyung turns to leaves but halts when he comments "Work better and maybe I'll spare tips".

You suddenly feel so scabby of Namjoon. You look over to him and his aura is something very contracting. Your eyes meet and his lids crease in a matter of seconds, and you already feel so used to it.

"I come here everyday but I never see you around.."

"Wait..Really?"

The conversation continued.

You had forgotten all about today just like the last time. You no longer felt irked nor did you worry about Taehyung. You're just captured when he's around; Like a picture of a flower in the of midst a war.

Long fingers slide past your vision. The order is served by Taehyung on the table. He carefully places your drinks before leaving. Once again, you feel some what unpleasant. He brings back all that had happened; Like the flames behind the flower.

"It's on me." Namjoon reminds as you nod knowingly. Your hands pick on the straw and just as your lips touch Namjoon grabs it away. You look at him baffled before he yells out to the counter.

A wearisome Taehyung walks out only to get yelled at by your infuriated crush. You don't seem to make heads or tales out of this situation.

"THIS IS THE WRONG ORDER!" he yells at his face and your eyes immediately diverts back to the drink. You rotate the cup reading out the name. 'cold brew'. It was your drink!

"Joon stop! it's the right order!" you yell and pull him back as an attempt to stop this unwanted drama. Taehyung seemed unaffected to the scene and looking at him upsets you. You were no good to his strength as he pushes you away gripping his collar.

"CAN YOU NEVER MIND YOUR BUSINESS? YOU'RE SUCH A SHAME AND I EXPECTED NOTHING LESS FROM YOU!" His words, very spiteful, outraged you leaving you speechless to his behavior. You didn't know why he was making such a big deal out of a darned drink!

"JOON PLEASE STOP! HE'S GOT THE DRINK RIGHT! STOP IT" you yell on top of your lungs stopping the brawl. The café falls silent, having many people even leave the once peaceful ambiance.

Namjoon sighs as he collects himself. You look at Taehyung who looked pathetic and weak but somewhat aggrieved by the look of his eyes.

"See. This is not what I ordered. I ordered this." He points to the board, in a way explaining it to you. You ignore him, making your way to Taehyung instead. "Taehyung why?" you ask distressed. "That's not your favorite" he ends simply, softening your eyes and wavering heart.

"And? did I ask your opinion?" Namjoon heated back. Taehyung simply apologized to him and accepted to pay for the drink. You no longer wanted to stay there. You pitied Taehyung so much so you claimed the drink beyond Namjoon's quarrel and as a result he simply left.

Only you and Taehyung remained.

You took glances as you swept the counter. He stood by the cash register recording funds. In a way to lighten him up you quickly finish the chores and and discreetly get to the register.

"Hello! I'd like to pay for this!" you exclaim to which he simply doesn't spare a glance instead, passes you a slip. You look through the contents to find he had already paid. He abruptly leaves before you could catch hold of him. His moody self or anything else other than the Taehyung you know only perplexes you and it only gets worse when he doesn't talk. You follow him to the backroom and he's left.

You didn't expect many chaotic events to occur but one thing you did expect was a headache. You lay your head on the marble counter but soon remember to dispose the towels. As you dispose the waste, something catches your attention. Something that looks like a note.

You pause for a moment but reach out to the note. You open the crumbled paper and it stated a single sad smiley. The note lies lifelessly on your hands instantly making you conscious of your surroundings. 'Did this supposed stalker watch me the entire day? Was he present in the café?' You feel yourself twitch at the thought.

You crumble it back throwing it in the bin; this time more palpitated from the scenarios. Not a second later you hear the backroom door unlocking and you rummage the desk acquiring a knife. The front exits were locked, leaving only one option. Maybe if you haven't looked at the note you wouldn't have to be this paranoid. You clutch the knife through your sweaty palms agreeing to commit also feeling lumps of sweat deposit down your chest.

"Time to close. Hurry up." you recognize the voice,

At once bringing you out of your dilemma. You lift your quivering self and collect your belongings dashing to the source.

As soon as you see his face, a pressurized urge pushes you to embrace him. Your hands lock around his figure, almost crushing his ribs. Your cheeks stain pathetically that tumble down his sharp collar bones as you let out your compressed breathing onto his nape. You wish to never let go off of him, feeling confident that no one would harm you if he was beside you. Your heart rate bang through your ears nearly making you pass out.

You don't notice until he backs you away. You look at his face but it looks the same. You don't understand why he behaves this way and it annoys you how he doesn't even look at you. Your hands slid back onto his torso and you continue to deliberately stare at him. Determined you'll make him talk. He clicks his tongue, portraying clear annoyance. He doesn't even wish touch you nor speak to you.

Unexpected, your tears well up disconnecting yourself from Taehyung. You seem to have forgotten the fear that over took you moments ago, replacing it with guilt and humiliation. You never realized how much his actions mattered until they actually showed.

His shadow passes yours and you stay still condemning yourself. The lamppost flickers, glistening your replacing tears. You look back one last time and see yourself left out in darkness. It perplexes you and you walk home mundane.

Feeling weak, You reach your door and chills run down your arms feeling a distanced gaze from somewhere. You stand by and watch for moving bushes or stomped on leaves. But instead, you see a note. Not any normal note, but the same exact note you still receive.

Your head watches over the sides while you gulp lumps of stored saliva down your throat. You contemplate but regardless curiously pick the note and rush through doors. You make sure they're locked before reading them out. You open it at once and all you find is a single word with a smiley.

'SORRY! :('

The note flees down from your palm and lands graciously on the floor. You simply stare at it knowing that you were being watched. Watched by 'them'. You hated how silent the home was. It mad you mad very second. You could even be watched right now and you wouldn't know. They could even be inside your cupboards. Your thoughts surround your actions and the people you have met.

'T-taehyung?'

You analyze just as you receive a text. Afraid to even read it but your thumbs slid through as his name pops up.

'Have you reached home? I'm so sorry! Let's please talk!'

The message ends with a '-joon'. You look through the number before texting him back with a reply. Such activity clearly makes you feel at ease, feeling like you're not alone. Just as the message sets in, you see a received text from Taehyung.

It seemed quite normal at first sight but it makes you anxious and hideous to think about it. You no longer feel safe or doubtful as you keep reading his simple yet concluding message.

'good night'

You watch the clock as it strikes 1Opm sharp. The message reads at 9:57pm; the time you should have reached home. The time you should have picked up the note..

The time he must have been here..

Gone crazy you collect yourself in a corner. The clock sounds, Joon's spamming messages, and lastly settling silence, make you shudder every now and then. To think you've trusted him makes you feel shitty if you were him. Your head feels unsteady with visuals of a psychotic bastard like him.

Taehyung. Taehyung. Taehyung.

You fall ill by the thought of something sickly startling. You just don't trust yourself the moment everything reflects itself. You finally start to understand moments better and nothing helps considering the fact that you loved him very much dearly. You grow self conscious and concerned by every passing minute not allowing a bit of drowsiness to settle in. You refuse to lay and even wished the same for torturing yourself with an unsound mind.

With no darned sleep and aching heels that stayed up the entire night watch guarding the house, there was nothing you can do but to get your job resigned. You didn't wanna go back to seeing Taehyung or holding any ties with him. It's been almost a minute and and you've left the job by a spoken fake reason for the owner. Of course you refused to go the café but you made sure it wasn't his shift.

You didn't know if Taehyung would stop stalking you or not sure how to restrain him without any clear proof. You were convinced and he was still much of a stranger to you and why would there ever be a reason for defending his actions? Nothing would stop you from ever being paranoid and cynical here after and he was all to blame. Just the thought of him made you quiver under nothing and to think of the mask he wore was something even disturbing.

Namjoon helped you find an apartment conveniently close to his so you didn't have to feel unsafe. He was sure he'd help you move out but after he's heard all about Taehyung, he insisted you stay with him.

Not sure if you had to share anything at all with him in the first but he's all you've got, closest to not being a stabber. He's been with you for a while and you knew he sincerely cares about you unlike an obsessive psycho. You've heard from Taehyung a crazy amount but it's only best if he'd stay the hell away.

You haven't briefed Namjoon on anything but keeping it cut short. You were happy he didn't dig deep on it and offered to help instead. The notes still remain a traumatizing part and you'd rather keep it to yourself.

--

"That's way too much!" You panic taking the seasoning away from him.

You both engaged in weekly cooking for fun and this time it was your turn. He'd make a mess out of your apartment in just a matter of minutes!

Namjoon suggested you'd both spend time together, so you didn't feel uncertain. You very much appreciated his thoughtfulness and understanding; and shifting apartments were more entertaining.

"ALRIGHT! How about I cut these onions?"

"OH PLEASE NAMJOON! Don't even think about onions anymore!" You yelp remembering the time he'd cut them with the knife held upside down.

He simply sighs and instead watches you stir the dish. You flush feeling his chin rest down your shoulder. At this point you were very much aware that you liked him but you weren't ready to get rejected just yet. Love was always something hard to understand for you cause you've only had experiences of the wrong kind. Namjoon made you feel special in ways you didn't know you could have. You'll be sure to confess, but not anytime soon.

"oh! my phone.." you excuse yourself to the ringing call.

"JUST STIR!" You yell across the hall while he gestures standing like a soldier.

Your lips slip a smile as you attend the call but soon wither as you hear his voice. A voice you haven't heard all month.

"Y/n listen to me! PLEASE JUST LISTEN! GIVE ME A CHANCE!" he begs aloof of the volume, crying by the line and you feel your pits sweat through your clothes. You try to stop the mild headache that kills you with memories and betrayal.

"No" you manage to speak and its barely even subtle. He continues screaming through the call, not being able to hear the whisper of words you're letting out. You keep an eye on Namjoon, in case he hears about Taehyung. He's got a terrible temper when it comes to Taehyung and you're least interested in including him with this.

"PLEASE! PLEASE Y/N! MEET ME THIS ONCE! ONCE! I CAN EXPLAIN EVERYTHING!"

"n-no..i won't-

"IF YOU'VE EVER TRUSTED ME, MEET ME THIS ONCE! PLEASE! AT THE CAFE! FOR ME! THIS ONCE.."

The line trails and you panic through every second. Your hand clutches the phone tighter when you hear small sobs. You always cared for Taehyung and hearing him cry, burdens your heart to your stomach. You wait in line, unable to cut the call until you hear him again.

"..please..this once. please" His voice trembling and distant. You decline immediately feeling your lids moist up.

'Were you wrong all this while? Was this fair?'

Your mind collapses with consecutive thoughts. You certainly couldn't bare how he sounded and your gut signs you to meet him. He was someone very important to you and he was such a jem you promised yourself never to miss. Things would only kill you to desperate curiosity if you didn't meet him but you also needed to know that he was nothing but a stranger.

The sun falls and you finish your dinner quicker. You've made up your mind. You don't really inform Namjoon and rather excuse yourself to a sick friend. Your brain appears fogged to think of anything but only Taehyung. His words ring continuously, stirring you with advance guilt.

All you ever wanted to do now was to meet him and get answers.

--

You wrap the towel by your wet body and turn down the door knob. You let a slight welp feeling a strong electric shock pass through the metal. Clueless, you proceed to open it once more getting shocked the second time. The knob falls down heavily and you reach out to fix it. You push it through the door only to get shocked third time in a row. You look into it and find a lean thin black wire sparking red lights.

You stand unmindful until the thought finally seemed to have hit you. You hide yourself away feeling your knees strain weak while your palm shuts your mouth tight, other holding the towel. Fear settles down your gut realizing something disgusting and horrific happening to you. Your heart beat dooms through your ears and you curl yourself feeling disgusted and unreal by the happening.

You hear your room door creek through the silence making his footsteps echo around. The door bangs with no voice or exposure. Goosebumps settle behind your neck as you sob into your hand flooding it with salty tears. The bangs get louder and louder making you horrendously anxious and frightful.

"y/n? I know you're there. Open the door and I won't hurt you darling.."

His shadow lurks around the door while he bangs it like he'd break it. His voice so smooth but the sound makes you quiver in fear, bunching your swollen lids. You whimper helpless and betrayed by him. You're aware he'd break the door anytime soon and you sit put not knowing what to ever do. Recording your nudes was the last thing you've imagined that might happen to you. Your toes curl by the thought of him watching your videos for god knows how many days.

"y/n...Y/N! I SAID OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!" He bangs the door as it slightly crashes from the sides.

You quickly attempt taking the nearest vase seeing how he'd still catch hold of you. Cries leave your mouth wailing to leave you alone and nothing more. You scream in fear asking for help from someone who you thought was your savior but a sickening bastard in disguise.

"YOU BITCH! UNLOCK THIS RIGHT NOW! DO IT BEFORE I FUCKING CHANGE MY MIND!" He screeches banging the door violently.

Your hands shake making you nauseous and unfocused of the situation. The more the door broke the more you feel yourself loose control.

Next thing you know, the door crashes open to his view. Your eyes widen and your feet backs up to his vile appearance. His body glistened with absurd amount of strained muscles and sweat, really making him look like a monster.

To your defense, you swing the vase by his head but he switches your arms in one tight grip strangling your neck.

"How cute!" You hear his wicked chuckle as you suffocate under his arms.

You struggle to hold your towel and at least manage to stay alive while his corrupt eyes overlook your dreadful ones. He drags you outside as you choke pathetically attempting to yell for help.

He lifts you up in ease, hovering over your frame then spraying a familiar scent. You feel yourself ahead of huge pain and torture in the midst also crying over your aching heart more than anything. You last wished Taehyung would appear to save you from a psycho you're going to be condemned to..

let me know if yawl want a bonus where all the truth is unveiled cause there are more parts to this. It was initially planned that I would just include it in here but it's already too long.

HAND! (iykyk)

[0tivez]

OKAY BUT IM IN LOVE W UR WRITING its chef kisses muah🤌🏻🤌🏻 Anyways can lve gojo taking care of his drunk gf <3

gojo taking care of drunk reader

note: thank you!! you hit a personal spot here. psa: drink responsibly. i assume my followers have some experience with drinking cause we're all +18 right :D

warnings: throwing up, alcohol usage, mentions of sex (no dub/non-con), female reader, fluff

characters: gojo

<- navigation

⁜ warned you to drink slowly but it was too late

⁜ you ordered coctails after coctails. gojo had lost count

⁜ "i'll be finee! i'm not a lightweight like you"

⁜ gojo got so offended by your lightweight comment that he didn't even bother stopping you

⁜ so you ordered one coctail after another, and another, and another

⁜ you were all flushed and cheery, mumbling about something dumb

⁜ gojo found you so cute. you were just saying anything that crossed your head, mostly complimenting gojo and talking about how much you loved him

⁜ he had noticed you were starting to talk slower and would loose your train of thought

⁜ he paid the bill and grabbed you before you made a mess at the restaurant you two were in

⁜ you could barely walk, i'm pretty sure someone would stop you on your way to the parking lot to make sure you were alright since you were piss drunk and gojo was completely sober

⁜ "she's my girlfriend."

⁜ "are you, sweetheart? do you need help?" the young group of girls asked you

⁜ "hm? 'toru, who are they? are you-- cheating on me?"

⁜ the girls sighed in relief and patted gojo on his shoulder and told him good luck

⁜ i am very biased with this fic cause taking care of a drunk person is terrifying and became my phobia :D anyways gojo is a strong boi he can handle us &lt;3

⁜ he drove you two home. you had completely lost it by that time

⁜ insisting on not going out of the car, wiggling to escape satoru's hold

⁜ he grabs you and puts you on his back piggyback style and carries you to your bedroom

⁜ "lemme go! 'm gonna sleep."

⁜ "okay, bunny, we have to get you ready to bed first. are you feeling sick?"

⁜ "fuck off, don't baby me! can handle... myself..."

⁜ if this was fleabag or the office, gojo would look at the camera like this: :D

⁜ "let's.... let's have sex... 'toru...."

⁜ you mumble and reach out for his belt

⁜ when i tell you this man would NEVER make a move on you drunk, i mean it

⁜ he couldn't even if he tried to tbh, he would feel so sick

⁜ "later, bunny" and gently takes your hands off his pants

⁜ he makes you get in your pajamas and you would resist on having sex lol horny bitch (can't blame you)

⁜ you would swear a lot lol gojo would try to be patient and understanding tho

(vomiting under the cut)

⁜ "'toru... 'm gonna puke..."

⁜ he grabs you and takes you to the bathroom so fast that you think he teleported

⁜ holds your hair and rubs your back

⁜ after the first round, you feel a little more sober. he flushes the toilet and sits on the bathroom tiles with you.

⁜ "feeling better?"

⁜ you nod before going in for another round

⁜ you two spend some time in the toilet. after sobering up a bit, gojo helps you brush your teeth and carries you back to your bed

⁜ you snuggle under your blankets, laying on your side and watch gojo bring water and a bucket

⁜ sits by your side and helps you drink the cold glass of water

⁜ he's so gentle with you, face filled with sympathy

⁜ he strokes your head with one hand and your back with the other

⁜ you quickly get under the blankets, cold and shivering

⁜ you are sober at this point, just feeling very sick

⁜ "'m sorry..."

⁜ "don't be, bunny. it was a fun night"

⁜ "for you."

⁜ he laughs and leaves a hot kiss on your temple.

⁜ "sleep with me?"

⁜ "i don't usually sleep with drunk girls, y'know? even if they beg me for a whole night."

⁜ you leave a shaky chuckle. "asshole."

⁜ "but you're cute, so i'll make an exception."

⁜ he takes his clothes off, not bothering to find pajamas or sweatpants and gets under the blankets in his underwear.

⁜ you try to turn to face him but he stops you and hugs you behind your back so that you can face the bucket he brought for you, just in case

⁜ he holds your head close to his warm chest and tightly hugs you. his legs are all tangled with yours and his whole body gives you such a heat that if you closed your eyes you could believe you were sleeping by a fireplace

⁜ your head is buzzing, head turning when you close your eyes. gojo leaves gentle kisses on your face and behind your ear, which somehow helps a lot with the buzzing

⁜ "'toru?"

⁜ "hm?" he leaves a hot breath on your cheek and looks at your lips with his big, bright, blue eyes

⁜ "thank you" you force yourself to look at his eyes too, but the movement is too hard for you. instead, gojo leans over a little more and connects your eyes with his before gently turning your face by your chin and giving you a soft kiss

⁜ "my pleasure" he smiles to your lips and places your head back to its old position as if you were a precious gem

⁜ gojo plants his chin on top of your head, caging you with his body

⁜ his weight comforts you, making your battle with your sleepiness harder

⁜ the last thing you hear before succumbing to your eyelids was gojo telling you to nudge him if you feel sick again. you nod and fall into a deep slumber

⁜ gojo watches you for some time, cherishing how fragile you look. eyelids relaxed, brows tense and furrowed with red cheeks and plump lips

⁜ "g'night, bunny. love you." he whispers before planting a final kiss on your head. he falls asleep stroking your hair

⁜ he would remind you about that night and everything you had told him and embarrass you lol

⁜ "remember this thing you did--"

⁜ "shut the fuck up satoru"

thank you guys for reading! gonna go out with my friends tonight and not come home with gojo :( life sucks and alcohol here is shit expensive so i guess z bleach drinking era is here!

[youryanderedaddy]

The First Shot Is A Warning

Tw: Authoritarian Regime AU, female reader, Activist!reader, non - con, dub - con, violence, blood, minor character death, possessive behavior, controlling behavior, imprisonment, objectification, political dystopia setting, mention of drugs, unrealistic potrayal of left - wing totalitarianism

chapter i, chapter ii, chapter iii, chapter iv, chapter v, chapter vi, chapter viii, chapter ix, chapter x, chapter xi

chapter vii

The moment had finally come after five days of your heart tugging and thumping wildly, trying to break out of its cage. You had waited, you had held your tongue and bided your time carefully, little by little. You had been forced to act sweet the whole time – but not too sweet – so the authoritarian would be too mesmerized to pry into your business by studying you apart like a war map, and still convinced you were being truthful, so you had to let the occasional sarcastic remark or bitter joke. Balance is the key, they say, and right now you couldn’t agree more.

The morning had been short, so short you couldn’t find anything useful to take with you (except for the electric toothbrush, and it hardly made a real weapon). You had woken up later than usual just to be met with an unusual, uncomfortable type of horror in your guts. Oscar had left some clothes on your bed, all of them smelt like fresh clean laundry, yet the stomach – wrecking reek of sterility never truly left the air. There weren’t any instructions on what to do with them, but the command was clear as water, despite non - verbal.

You slowly picked the garment up and soon recognized it as a dress, consisting of a white corset – like top with red embroidery and a vermilion skirt with a pair of long white socks. You took a deep breath and started dressing up, shaking as the tight material hugged your curves in all the wrong places. It felt perverse, cheap, a weak mockery of your true fashion sense, but in the first place, just like everything else around here, it was survival, so you shut your mind off, put on your favorite combat boots and calmed your breathing before sitting down and waiting for the general.

He came to pick you up at eleven, vestured in his well – fitted green uniform and that stupid karakul hat that you hated with a burning passion. The fact that the authoritarian looked handsome and strong at the same time stung even more, not only because it made betraying him more painful, but also because you knew it would create a pretty lie of an image, one of strength and national pride, in the minds of the citizens.

“Please behave.” The soldier ordered with a straight face, cold voice somewhat fading once his dark eyes fixed upon your frame. His sides felt warmer yet again, and he had to fight the urge to draw you closer, shower you in kisses and never let you leave his side. It was going to be fine, or at least that’s what he had to tell himself unless he wanted to go insane during the trip. “All of my superiors will be there, one wrong step and you’re dead.” Oscar warned you and lowered his head to peck you on the cheek, unable to pull away before your whole neck was covered in purple marks and bloody love bites. The sign of ownership wasn't truly necessary as everyone already knew you were off limits, but the man enjoyed seeing you marked up, each part of you belonging to him for all eternity. “I will protect you no matter what, so be good for me, beloved.” You squirmed at the affectionate term and tugged at the ends of your strained dress, searching for comfort. You found none.

The journey was short and no words were exchanged between the two of you, even the worried glances your captor would send your way from time to time died down once the party official stepped into the limousine with his bodyguards. After that it was just “Yes, Sir.”, “No, Sir.” and “I am sorry, I will try my best.” on repeat during the whole ride. And then you reached the center.

Oscar led you towards the museum with the red tiled roof and white plaster that needed a new layer of paint to look anything other than in ruins. The authoritarian held your hand tight, the grasp warm and sweaty, his posture confident and patronizing as he walked across the center and everyone rushed to make way like a bunch of ants at the sight of a human. You were surrounded by warriors and partisans, the screams of support and the heavy steps of thousand boots muffling even you darkest thoughts.

Still only once you reached the main auditorium on the first floor of the building did you manage to see just how massive the event truly was. All of the significant Party leaders had come and were now standing together in a circle, silent and serious as statues, the man you had seen before in the car even going as far as to glare at anyone who would dare speak during the first half an hour. Soon the lieutenant tapped you softly on the shoulder and signed to the stage as if signaling that he too was going, but not before sending you a short stern gaze, an unspoken threat. Under any other circumstance you would have rolled your eyes – it wasn’t like you could go anywhere with all the soldiers following your every move – but not today. Today was different, it was a new beginning. The authoritarian had an actual real reason to be paranoid now, but neither the time nor the space to act upon his deadly intuition, and you intended to use that oppurtunity to the fullest.

You weren’t here to play for cheap or to misbehave and try to draw attention to yourself as a weak paltry act of defiance. You couldn’t afford yet another failure, couldn’t live to be back in that tiny heated room with your hands above your head and the weight of your tormentor pressing over you stomach as you desperately tried to squirm against him like an insect caught under a heel. You couldn’t let him win, so you had to wait. You had to stay alert and trust that your only friend in these remains of a city would actually show up and save you from this raging madness.

“Come with me right now.” Someone’s deep rough voice broke the stone cold silence and you turned around only to be faced by yet another soldier. Her mouth was half covered by a black mask, no party symbols embodied on the surface, something that you found weird. Almost no one wore masks anymore since they were often associated with the rebels. Her eyes looked familiar and somewhat warm in the way the ocher color seemed to shine once it was hit by sunlight. You remembered with the sting of guilt just how many of the younger troopers were anarchists or syndicalists, leftists, purely mislead and cruelly deluded by Oscar’s propaganda. Maybe you had met before in another life - on some battlefield, fighting side by side as allies, and now you were simply a prisoner and a guard. And since you couldn’t disobey a direct order, you followed along.

Meanwhile your captor had joined his superiors on the podium, although he didn’t look as ecstatic as the others seemed to be. Quite on the contrary, the general seemed bored and tired, his monotone expression giving his annoyance away. As he prepared to turn his microphone on, his subordinate led a man to the stage, and he recognized him instantly. He was covered in harsh marks and bruises from head to toe, his arms were in shackles, and he already looked dead, barely hanging onto live. The man forgot how to breathe for a second.

“General Montery, please step aside and to the centre.” Sophia commanded, her voice low and bitter like coffee, it also burnt like one. The brunette moved forward, his feet moving on their own towards the Party premier, who was quick to hand him a long metal rifle with a wooden handle, and it felt heavier than any other weapon he had used before. “You know what to do. Don't dissapoint me.” The woman whispered in his ear for just a second, quiet and deadly, almost hissing with poisonous anticipation. Oscar gulped dry and aimed the gun at the man’s head, waiting for the right moment to shoot, once his heart stopped aching and his mind – screaming.

* * *

You weren't sure where you were going. The soldier had dragged you across the hall in absolutely silence, not saying a word. You had hoped someone would stop and ask the two of them were you were headed, which was the usual practice among all of the control freaks in the state army, but much to your surprise no one had batted an eye. Maybe they trusted each other enough to not ask any questions or the warriors simply didn’t care what was happening to some lowly rebel and whether they would make it out alive. Perhaps that was the plan all along, perhaps they hated the influence you had on their precious general and wished to make you disappear. And perhaps you were going to die just like that, away from the glamorous lights of the auditorium, like a dog, without even seeing your best friend one last time.

Fortunately, the train of black thoughts was cut short once you heard Sophia's voice echo through the ceiling, and you finally turned your head towards the stage. Your stomach dropped as your eyes glazed over the familiar face, your gut twisting violently as you watched Oscar step closer and closer to the innocent convict. Suddenly the premier started screaming, calling the man a class traitor, a threat to the regime, naming him as the leader of the rebels in the central Zone. Spilling hundreds of lies of crime and slaughter that had never been committed until the people started booing, shouting, repeating insults back, the words counter - revolutionary filling the air, each a tiny arrow to your heart. The authoritarian had monopolized you, made you play along; you were wearing his dress, his stupid scent on every part of your body, you could still feel his cold lips ghosting over your neck, and for what... The man had promised you, he had promised not to kill him, not to kill anyone, not to—

“Y/N!” The soldier shook you by the shoulders out of the blue, unable to stay and listen to you blabber and sob any longer. Your finally raised your head, waking up from your bitter stupor, lifeless eyes suddenly clearer than a moment ago. yet still wet and puffy - you hadn’t realized you had been crying until now. You weren’t sure just how much time had passed since you saw the cartridge fly and find its victim, but you managed to swiftly gather yourself and look around, curiosity mixed with fear filling in your gaze as you realized your weren’t in the main hall anymore. This seemed to be a corridor or a backroom – it was dark, filthy and the smell of incense was almost unbearable. “It’s me, Y/N. I came for you.” The woman standing next to you uttered gently, much gentler than before, reaching to take off her mask and her military cap to reveal the face underneath.

“Anna!?” You exclaimed and had to clamp your hand over your mouth to suppress the gasp. “But how? I thought—” You started off, but got interrupted by the other’s hushed whisper. “It’s a long story and I’m sure we will laugh about it over a joint once we get you out of here.” She hesitated for a moment, something unspoken at the tip of her tongue, but eventually reconsidered, pulled out a gun and passed it to you. “It’s for security. We’ll go through the west gates.” The woman paused, stroking her chin. “I wanted to use the back doors, but I’m sure they will be guarded. It’s full of fucking redcoats out there.” Anna cursed under her breath and took you by the hand. “We’re going back in. It’d be safer to just blend in with the soldiers.” She rationalized and you nodded – not because that route felt safer, but because you didn’t have a better plan, or any for that matter. It felt surreal to see your friend so confident and brave again, after all those months of oppression and fear.

Finally, finally the game was on.

[kissomen]

red snow | nishimura riki.

synopsis ⟿ the year bleeds 1996 in snowy seoul south korea, and a young, anger - driven boy with jet black hair and a cigarette perched between frost bitten lips can’t seem to peel his eyes away from jake sim’s new girl.

characters ⟿ nishimura riki x female oc, rest of enhypen

genre ⟿ romance, horror, thriller, fluff, heavy angst

warnings ⟿ underage smoking, violence, swearing

AUTHORS NOTE ⟿ hellooo :-) recently i’ve been really interested in 90s thriller movies and murder documentaries that i thought i’d whip up a little somethin based off of them. i really hope you enjoy! :-) if you have any questions just let me know!! happy reading <33

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three

— chapter three.

“riki!” the young boy’s long eyelashes flutter open when he hears the sound of an old women’s voice wake him from his slumber. the faint sound of the kitchen telephone rings faintly behind her weary voice. “riki get the phone!”

the young boy groans, slowly sitting up from his silk pillow and he rubs his puffy eyes with his knuckles, the draft from the slightly opened window brushes its dainty fingers against his skin and goosebumps arise on his exposed arms. “coming..” he mumbles barely audible enough for his grandmother to even hear. he swings his legs over his creaky bed and saunters slowly over towards the window, the cloth of his white socks sliding against the old hardwood of his floor.

he pulls his window frame down slowly, air filling up inside his lungs as he takes a deep breath, his mouth opening with a tired yawn and he squeezes his eyes shut. “riki, can you hear me?!”

he mutters strings of curse words under his breath as he quickly approaches his bedroom door, his jet black hair sticking up in places and glueing itself to his sweaty, rosy cheeks. he makes his way down his squeaky staircase, running a hand over the wooden banister as he does so. his nose is instantly hit with the sour aroma of a cigarette brand he absolutely despises, scrunching up his nose as he gloomily walks into the small entryway of his dim kitchen.

his grandma sits in her blue nightgown at the wooden dining table, a red mug of coffee by her elbow as she reads the newspaper that’s laid on top of the table’s surface. she perches a cigarette between her lips and puffs out it’s smoke, it’s swirling curls dancing in the flickering fluorescent kitchen lights. the shrill sound of the telephone still rings in riki’s ears, and he watches as his grandmother knits her thin eyebrows together and gives riki an irritated look. “get the phone, please.” she says before taking another huff of her cigarette.

riki nods at his grandmother before placing his fists into the pockets of his plaid pajama pants, tongue sliding over his chapped lips as he begins towards the white phone on the wall. the checkerboard tiles of his floor squeak under his footsteps. “hello?” he mumbles into the phone, eyelashes fluttering closed as he leans his side into the wall.

“riki. i have a question.”

his heart suddenly begins racing at the familiar, silky voice of eulena speaking into his ear, eyes snapping open as he adjusts his position against the wall and he clears his throat. “hi, hi. uh yeah, what is it?”

“can you come over? i’m bored and i have no one to hang out with today.”

as if his heart couldn’t beat any faster. “uh,” he furrows his thick eyebrows and runs a quick hand through his disheveled curls. “yeah, sure. is jake not there with you?”

“he’s out. out doing guy stuff. with his guy friends. i figured you’d be doing nothing today, like usual so. let’s hang.”

riki rolls his eyes and let’s his head rest against the wall. “shut up, rhee. maybe - maybe i am busy today. how would you know i wasn’t?”

“you just woke up, didn’t you? your voice sounds all groggy and sleep deprived.”

“that’s not important.” he croaks into the phone and his heart flutters as eulena replies with a breathy giggle.

“you’re a cute one, you lil’ stinker. now are you coming over or not? your grandma better let you or i’ll fight her myself. it’ll take like one punch and she’ll be out cold.”

“yeah, i’m coming over.” riki sighs, eyes observing the expanse of his kitchen in thought. he lets his bottom lip slide out from between his teeth before a small little smirk hikes up the side of his lips and he lowers his voice. “you wanna hang out with me that bad?”

“shut up. be here in ten.” eulena says with a monotone lilt in her voice before hanging up the phone. riki let’s a small sigh slip from between his lips before chuckling and standing himself upright, placing the phone back on the wall.

“was that a girl?” his grandmother mumbles from her spot at the table, her slender fingers flipping the pages of her newspaper.

“i’ll be back by dinner.” riki replies, before approaching the dining table and grabbing his black coat that was thrown over one of the wooden, paint-chipped chairs. his grandmother peers up at him over the rim of her thin framed glasses as he slips it over his arms.

“where are you going? you know what,” she looks back down at her newspaper and takes another huff of her cigarette. “i don’t wanna know. just be back by dinner.”

“i will,” riki mumbles, quickly zipping up his coat before reaching for his black gloves on the marble counter. there’s no more words spoken after that, slipping his black boots on by the door before heading out into the snow.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

eulena’s room was chilly and dim, the only light present was illuminating from a black lace embroidered lamp that sat neatly between two potted plants on her white - painted nightstand. it wasn’t the first time riki’s been in her room; only once before and that’s when jake, heeseung and himself were over for a night of board games and cold pizza.

“hello..” riki mumbles as he slowly opens her room door, eyes landing on the girl who sits with her knees to her chest and back against her bed frame. she seemed to be flipping through a magazine. her head snaps up towards the boy walking in, immediately pulling her black silk dress down over her knees.

“hi.” she replies to him as she flashes him a sad, darkly glossed lip - smile, eyes peering up through her bouncy curtain bangs. the boy slips his coat off and throws it over the end of her quilt covered mattress, sitting himself down on the edge of it to peel off his shoes. he takes a glance over at her and a smile curves to his lips.

“who are you all dolled up for?” he asks her softly, eyes catching glance of her white frilly socks as she straightens her legs over the bed and crosses her feet over each other. she lets an exaggerated sigh slip through her lips, folding her magazine closed and plops it down on the spot next to her.

“for god.” she replies, letting her head fall back against her wooden headboard. she intertwines her ring - clad fingers together on top of her lap as she blinks at riki through long, mascara coated eyelashes. her lips are pursed into a line as she stares at him dully.

“i’m more commonly referred to as riki, but i appreciate such a thoughtful sentiment.” he tells her, adjusting his spot so he’s sitting criss-cross in front of her. his back is hunched as he lets his hands fall into his lap.

she kicks his knee lightly with her foot, rolling her eyes as she lets her head roll to the side to gaze out of her small, round window. “you’re not funny.” she mumbles, teeth going to nibble on the skin of her glossed lip.

“you look sad.” riki begins, cocking his head to the side to gaze at her. he grabs her foot and shakes it gently, before she finally rolls her head back forward to look at him lazily. “what’s on your mind?”

“well for one.” she mumbles, eyes glancing down at his legs. “the fact you’re still wearing those god awful pajama pants is making me depressed.”

riki let’s his mouth fall agape dramatically. “can you not. my grandma gave me these for christmas.”

“yeah like, four years ago. aren’t you going through puberty now? i think it’s time to throw those away, you’re a growing boy.”

riki rolls his tongue over the inside of his cheek and narrows his eyes at her. “are you on your period?” he asks her, and she kicks his knee again.

“i am not.” she mumbles irritatedly, and riki snickers to himself. she rolls her head back towards the window again, eyes following the slowly falling snow that soon dusts the wet ground. “i’m just.. kind of upset.”

riki studies her thoughtfully before swallowing in his throat, knitting his eyebrows together before parting his lips. “do you want to talk about it?”

he watches as her throat moves with a slow swallow, eyes still observing the scenery outside of her window in thought. “yeah it’s just.. it’s kind of stupid, but it’s about jake.”

riki climbs over the bed to plop over next to eulena, sliding his back against the headboard to copy her position. “oh good, did he finally screw up?” he asks as he adjusts the pillow behind him so he can rest his back against it.

“no..” eulena mumbles, looking down as she begins to pick at her nails. she hears riki mumble a small, aww. “you know how.. like.. okay so.” she looks up at the ceiling and fidgets in her spot. she licks her lips slightly before speaking again. “sometimes, i have these episodes. about kaewon.. the memories just kind of flood back into my brain and i can’t handle it and i start to kind of.. get upset and cry and stuff.. right?”

“mhm.” riki croaks, eyebrows knitting together as he studies her facial features thoughtfully.

“well,” eulena sighs. “earlier this morning before he left, i had one. and usually i like to be comforted and talked to and you know, have someone with me to get me through it. but he kind of just.. didn’t even talk to me. he ignored me.. i mean, all he said was ‘hey, it’s okay. it’ll be over soon.’ and then left me in my room crying while he walked out the door to go hangout with heeseung.”

riki swallows slowly in his throat, eyes flickering towards her pink quilt in thought. eulena parts her lips again in reply to the silence. “i know, it’s stupid. i just can’t be anything other than upset.” she says softly, before sitting up in her spot and lifting her hands to her face to press her fingertips against her closed eyes.

riki averts his attention back to her, quickly lifting his back up from the pillow that settled between the headboard and him, scooting his rear end up against it before outstretching his hand to rest it on her back. “hey..” he mumbles, running his hand down her spine. “hey, it’s not stupid. that was a really shitty thing he did.” he says softly in an attempt to help, knitting his eyebrows together as he studied her carefully. “he should’ve been more attentive. you have the right to be upset. you should’ve just called me, i would’ve treated you better, you know.”

he hears a small sniff from behind eulena’s hands. “i would’ve came over sooner and…” he begins, watching his hands movements on her back. “and made you some warm tea.. and played with your hair and… let you cry into my big, strong arms and get mascara all over my shirt..”

eulena snorts at this, before letting a small chuckle escape from her lips. she lifts her head up to glare playfully at riki, her mascara already smudging around her eyes. “you’re so full of shit. you would’ve done the same thing. both you and jake have been acting weird lately when i bring up kaewon.”

riki’s heart begins to race up in his throat. his hand suddenly pauses on top of her back, and he parts his dry lips before mumbling. “w-what do you mean?”

eulena scoffs, before letting her head fall back into her hands and she shakes it softly. “nevermind. i think i’m just making stuff up now.” riki let’s a relieved exhale escape from his lips unconsciously, and he clears his throat right after in case she caught onto him. “let’s.. let’s change the subject.”

riki removes his hand from her back and let’s it fall back into his lap. “okay…” he smiles softly, reaching over to tuck a strand of her bangs behind her ear. “have you bought any new records lately—”

“can you just hold me while i cry? i can feel it coming.” eulena interrupts and her voice wavers at the end of her sentence, her jaw clenched as she peers over at riki with sad, glossed over eyes. riki’s heart thumps in his ears and he swallows quickly before outstretching his arms.

“yeah, eulena. come here.” immediately after his words she falls right into him, knocking him over. his back falls against the mattress and she wraps her arms tightly around his torso and her legs around his thighs. riki giggles quietly, blinking slowly to process the situation before letting his fingers lace through her hair.

he can hear tiny sobs escape her lips as her cheek presses into his chest, her grip tight around his torso. he sighs slowly, his eyes studying the engraved designs of her ceiling. “let it out, rhee, let it out…” he mumbles under his breath as she lets out more hushed sobs.

“riki..” she sniffs, her voice hushed and wobbly. riki’s heart squeezes in his chest as he scratches gently at her scalp.

“yes?”

“i don’t think kaewon died the way they say he did.” she mumbles against the cloth of his black muscle tee, and the raven haired boy swallows slowly.

“why do you say that?” he asks quietly, trying to hide the nervousness laced into his tone.

“because..” she begins, lifting her head up to rest her chin on top of his chest, her gaze meeting his. her mascara was running down her cheeks. “they say it was a car crash, but his body was nowhere to be found. not to mention there was no blood anywhere.” her eyebrows are raised and riki tilts his chin down to look at her better, watching as another black tear travels down her cheek.

he sniffs lightly from his nose, softly removing the strands of hair that were stuck to her wet cheeks. “i’m pretty sure the news specialists know what they’re talking about, eulena.” he whispers to her, thumb swiping another falling tear from her cheek.

“do they, riki?” she whispers back, her eyes flickering between his own. “i know it happened almost a year ago, but i just can’t shake the thought that he was… murdered.”

“do you hear yourself right now?” riki lifts the back of his head up from the mattress and cups her cheeks in his palms. “you sound like a crazy person. i think you’re just overthinking.” he mumbles to her with raised, dark eyebrows. “it all shouldn’t have happened. i wish that it didn’t.. if i would’ve had a choice on the subject, he’d still be alive right now.” he immediately regrets his last sentence as he watches eulena’s eyebrows slowly furrow at him in confusion. “let’s not think too much about it.” riki laughs nervously and swipes more hair away from her face, hoping the girl can’t see his reddening ears.

“okay.” eulena softly sighs, relaxing her eyebrows and juts her bottom lip out into a pout. her eyes study riki’s face thoughtfully, and after a few seconds, riki can feel heat rise to his cheeks. “the freckle on your chin is cute.” she mumbles softly, before outstretching her hand to gently poke it with her finger.

“don’t say things like that.” riki mumbles with furrowed eyebrows, his own lip jutting out into a soft pout.

eulena furrows her own eyebrows. “why?”

“you know how i feel about you..” he whispers, eyes flickering all around her face before reaching a knuckle to her bottom lip to swipe away a smudged lip gloss spot.

“that’s not gonna stop me from talking about how pretty you are.” she whispers back with raised eyebrows, and his whole body immediately heats up. “you’ve got a beautifully shaped nose on you, riki. anyone ever tell you that?”

“yeah. but you saying that just now made my heart jump up to my throat.” eulena giggles at this, before laying her cheek back down against his chest.

“you’re cute..” she whispers, and soon, the sound of heavy snow pelts against her rooftop and fills the comfortable silence that engulfs the pair.

riki could stay like this forever.

“do you wanna go play in the snow?” eulena quickly lifts her head up again and rests her chin on his chest. “if i keep laying here lost in my thoughts i’m gonna cry again.”

riki chuckles softly through his nose and lifts his head up to look down at her again. “sure. but only if you tell me i’m pretty again.” eulena snorts and climbs up off of riki, now straddling his lap.

she looks down at him and there’s a soft smirk on his lips as his eyes linger up at her and studies her thoughtfully. “don’t get ahead of yourself, little boy.”

his smirk immediately falls into a frown. “hey. can you stop making fun of my age. it hurts.” eulena scrunches her nose at him playfully before climbing off of the bed and adjusts her dress.

“okay, what about a cheek kiss?” she hears him mumble from his position on the bed, and she throws a playful glare over at him as he turns his head to tap his cheek with his finger. eulena groans.

“you’re insufferable.”

riki sits up in his spot and quirks a brow at her, puffing out his cheek in an attempt to get her to fulfill his request. she rolls her eyes with a dramatic sigh, before leaning herself over the bed and grabs his chin, quickly pressing her lips to his cheek and straightens back up. “okay, get up now. before i kick you out.”

a small gasp emits from riki as he lifts his finger to his cheek, softly touching the faint purple mark that was left from her gloss. “is there a mark?” he asks in a hushed voice and widened eyes.

“yeah. now hurry, i’m getting impatient.”

“hell, yes.” riki hoots, straightening himself up before standing on top of the bed and jumping on it a few times. “woohoo! best day ever, man.”

eulena grabs his coat from the edge of the bed and throws it at him, where he falls dramatically on top of the bed. “let’s go, you big goober.”

the two of them make it out into the thickening snow. a light purple haze envelopes the sky and illuminates the street lights, setting a light yellow haze to fall on top of the white blanketed ground. all cozy and warm in their winter coats and mittens, they end up throwing snowballs at each other under the dim street lamps.

it sure was a distraction, to both eulena and riki. nothing else mattered except each other and the snow, loud breathy laughs spilling from the pair when hit by the other. at some point, riki throws a large snowball with force at the girl, where she falls down dramatically into the powdery, thick ground. riki chuckles, quickly jogging towards the fallen girl. “hey, i’m sorry..” he says through laughter, his breath heavy and white, cheeks rosy and frost bitten. he reaches for her arm in an attempt to pull her up. “i’m so sorry, are you okay—”

bam. the victim strikes back. right to the face. eulena ends up doubling over in laughter, a white-faced riki, not so much.

darkness settles over seoul, and soon, riki’s grandmother would be concerned he wasn’t back by dinner. but what did that matter? he was too busy making snowballs with the girl he cared for most.

but what would happen when those snowballs start melting through the cracks of his fingers, and start dripping red?

i guess we’ll never know.

— HELLO wow thank you guys for your support on this story so far!! it means sooooo freakin much :-) i hope you enjoyed this update, i enjoyed writing it so much i think it’s my favorite chapter so far.. please let me know if you have any questions i like hearing from you guys <33 also, chapter four will be coming soon but in the mean time, please like, reblog, or interact if you feel it in your heart to do so! until next time <3

— katerina (^_^)

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[eternalsimp]

Cursed Fears (pt 2)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Smut

Word Count: 3703

Warnings: NSFW 18+, Aged up Megumi, mentions of violence, character death, swearing, use of female pronouns and anatomy, angst, slight praise kink, oral sex (f. receiving) Minors DNI.

Author Note: This is a sequel but it can be read as a stand-alone. pt 1 is up on my blog and pt 3 will be posted soon.

Megumi’s POV

Everything was dark and the smell of blood was overwhelming. I couldn’t tell where I was exactly, I knew I was in the domain of a special grade but I was sure I had gone home to y/n. Nobara, Yuji, and I had exorcised a second-grade curse and had called it a night. So where did this domain come from? How did I get here? I could swear I could hear thunder crack every now and then, but I can’t even remember if there was a storm when I was here with Yuji and Nobara. Where was Gojo when I needed him? I stumbled through the darkness blindly before I was met with a sight that made my heart drop.

Sukuna sat lazily on his throne, his red eyes trained on me in a predatory glare, sharp nails tapping impatiently on his temple. “It's about time you showed up, I thought I was going to have my fun without you. Now that you’re here, we can continue.” Sukuna’s mouth pulled into a sinister grin as I stared at the limp figure at the foot of his throne.

“Y/n…” her name came out as barely a whisper, my throat felt like it was closing up. She was at home studying for her statistics class, I know she was. I shook my head violently before pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes. This isn’t real.

“What’s wrong little sorcerer? Not feeling so tough anymore are you? You were so confident you could take me on earlier, so come on, take her back. Until you do I may have to play with her a little bit more, show her that she was never safe from me.” Sukuna reached down and pulled her unconscious body up into his lap. He held her jaw with one hand and turned her face so I could see. I wanted to scream at him not to touch her, or to hurt me instead, but nothing came out. Every part of my body was frozen in place at the sight of her tortured body. Sukuna could see me struggling in his domain and smirked down at me. He slowly dragged his mouth up her throat and to the shell of her ear. “Time to wake up princess, our guest is here.” Sukuna squeezed her throat at the same time he nipped her ear and her eyes flew open to immediately fall on me.

“No, please let her go.” The words finally came but I still couldn’t move. She looked so scared, the person I love most is in danger and I couldn’t do anything about it. I forced myself forward a single step but it felt like I was sinking into the ground. Why can’t I move? “I’ll do anything you want, but please don’t hurt her.”

“I told you what I wanted, I told you to come and get her. Show me just how strong you are.” Sukuna taunted. With a firm grip on my girlfriend's jaw and his other hand traveling down her body, Sukuna was in complete control. I know I can’t use cursed energy or shikigami here or I would risk her becoming collateral damage, but I couldn’t stand still and do nothing.

“‘Gumi, help me.” Her voice was shaking, her entire body trembling. I wanted nothing more than to whisk her away to safety. Her eyes squeezed shut as Sukunas mouth attacked her neck and left dark bruises in its wake.

“Time’s running out kid, I’m starting to get bored.” Sukuna’s free hand began to snake over her legs, dragging his razor-sharp nails over the soft skin there, leaving angry red scratches behind. Tears began to fall freely from her eyes and I tried to force myself forward again to no avail. Whimpers and cries for help begin to fall from her lips faster, and god I feel like I’m in hell. All I can do is watch as she cries out in fear, heart cracking at every sound she makes. Finally, she says something that makes me feel like my heart has been ripped out of my chest

“You did this to me, this is your fault.” My body felt numb at the sound of her broken words. All I can do is shake my head and beg, beg Sukuna for mercy, and beg her for forgiveness.

“Baby it’ll be okay, you’ll be okay. I’m so sorry.”

“You said you would protect me, why did you do this to me?”

“I’m sorry, I’m gonna get you out of here. Please believe me, my love.” I was on my knees before the king of curses now. So close I could pick up on her perfume that smells sickly sweet of roses, but the smell I adore so much was tainted with something else now.

Sukuna clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You know better than to make promises you can’t keep, right?” My whole body was shaking with fear and rage at the curse, but all I could do was bargain.

“Please, I swear I will do anything, just let her go.” I couldn’t tear my eyes away from her, pleading to just see her leave here alive. Sukuna’s nails dug deeper into her throat, drawing blood as it trickled down her neck and chest in small streams.

“I think I’d rather punish you and the brat for trapping me in this vessel. You get to watch as I kill her, and then I’ll switch out with him so he can see what he’s done.” Sukuna leaned down to face me. “This is what happens when self-righteous sorcerers need to learn their place, so don’t blame me for what happens next.”

Fear shot through my entire body at those words. I couldn’t help but scream loudly as Sukuna jerked her head and a loud, sickening crack filled my ears.

I shot straight up in bed as a crack of thunder rumbled through the apartment. My eyes were unfocused as I dragged myself towards the bathroom and a wave of nausea washed over me. I barely made it to the toilet before I was vomiting into it. My knees burned from where they hit the tile but all I can think about was the sound of her whimpers and begs for help ringing in my ears. I was vaguely aware of the shirt sticking to me with sweat as I tried to control my erratic breathing. Thunder cracked again, sounding eerily like the way her neck snapped in my nightmare and I was retching again.

The cycle continued for what felt like hours until I was left coughing and dry heaving. As the panic started to ebb away I noticed the presence of my girlfriend on the floor behind me, running her hands soothingly over my back, and lightly pressing her thumbs into my spine. She had her knees on either side of my waist and was resting her head between my shoulder blades. I reached up to flush the toilet before gently squeezing her knee to let her know I was okay. She wordlessly pulled my sweaty shirt over my head to let the cool air hit my back before lifting herself off of the floor and out of the bathroom.

I shifted my body so I could press my forehead against the hard plastic of the bathtub. After a couple minutes, she handed me a bottle of water and pressed a cold, damp cloth to the back of my neck. “I’m sorry I woke you up,” voice raspy from coughing and throwing up. This wasn’t the first time I had woken her with my nightmares, and I doubt it would be the last. She reclaims her spot on the floor behind me and continues rubbing my back.

“Don’t be sorry, I prefer to be woken up by you going to the bathroom than you throwing up in the bed anyway.” I can’t help but laugh at her teasing and we could both feel the unease begin to fade.

“Yeah, that's a good point. You’re too good to me, you know that?” I moved so that I was leaning back against her chest and she wrapped her arms around my shoulders protectively.

“Nope, I refuse to accept that statement because we are the perfect amount of goodness to each other.” I tilted my head back to rest it on her shoulder before pressing a quick kiss to her neck. I couldn’t help but wonder how I was lucky enough for Nobara to introduce the two of us. It was in the small, intimate moments like these that I knew I would happily go to my grave protecting her.

Reader’s POV

“Okay you know the drill,” you said to him as you held out your hands expectantly. He smiled as he placed both his hands in yours, palm up. You pressed one of his hands to your chest and the other to his so he could feel both of your heartbeats under his fingertips. The first time you did this he scoffed at how cheesy it was, but over the two years of living together, it became common practice for when he was trying to calm down after a nightmare. You didn’t like to press him about the horrors that plagued his dreams, knowing how reserved he was with his emotions, so you found your own ways to comfort him.

“See, we’re both okay. Do you wanna get up to go lay back down or do you need a second?” He shook his head and pulled himself up to sit in front of you again.

“No, I’m okay, but can we do the other thing too?” he asked sheepishly. He turned pleading eyes towards you, and how could you refuse him when he asked so nicely.

“Of course, whatever you need. You or me?”

He took a shuddering breath before whispering “you” so softly you almost didn’t hear it. Your shoulders slumped as that one word told you everything you needed to know. The other practice that became a common occurrence after his chronic nightmares was kissing the other person's phantom injuries. More often than not it was him kissing you, as you were usually the object of his nightmares, like tonight. He liked being able to physically see and feel that the wounds inflicted on you were in fact not real. This nighttime routine often led to some heavy makeout sessions, which then led to very soft and intimate sex.

“Okay baby,” You stand up and move to sit on the side of the bed while he brushes his teeth quickly to get rid of the gross taste in his mouth. While you wait, you find yourself tugging at the bottom of your shorts self-consciously as you shiver in anticipation. After a moment your boyfriend waltzed out of the bathroom and rested his hands on either side of your waist. He bent his head to capture your lips in a slow kiss. His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, silently asking permission to deepen the kiss and you happily oblige him. Your mouths move in a small fight for dominance but a firm hand on your thigh has him easily winning. Your hands trailed up to rest on his shoulders as he took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit down gently.

You gasp softly into his mouth and he brings one hand up to rest at the nape of your neck as he cradles your head protectively. He draws his lips down the side of your jaw, paying special attention to the spot behind your ear that never fails to have you melting into his hands. You tilt your head to give him better access to your throat, allowing him to deliver individual kisses to the spots where you likely had been hurt.

In a swift, fluid motion, he is pulling your tank top off of you and trailing sloppy kisses down your chest and stomach. You lean back onto your elbows as he runs his hands over your thighs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You let out a shaky breath as he begins to kiss his way up the inside of your legs. “Just relax baby. I’m gonna take care of you.” He punctuated each word with a kiss or nip to the inside of your thighs, and you could feel the arousal pool at the pit of your stomach.

You forced yourself to make eye contact just in time to see a devious smirk grace his features. Before you could question it he is yanking down your shorts and blowing cool air onto your core. You yelp and instinctively try to snap your knees shut. He chuckles lowly to himself before tossing your shorts somewhere behind him. He brings his face back between your thighs to lick a long, hot stripe up your core. You gasp loudly and let your arms give out behind you. He reaches one hand up to where you are clawing at the sheets to intertwine your fingers together.

“My pretty baby is already so worked up and I’ve barely touched you. What a good girl.” He lowers himself back down to lap up the arousal dripping onto your legs before sucking your clit into his mouth. You arch into him and groan loudly which prompts him to hum triumphantly around the bundle of nerves. He moves his free hand down to expertly curl two fingers into you and starts pumping in and out at a steady pace. After a few pumps of his hand, he curls his fingers to find the spot inside you that has you seeing stars.

The combination of his mouth and fingers working you is dizzying and you can feel it pushing you closer to the edge of your climax. He could feel how close you were and began to move with more purpose, determined to make you cum more than once in the night. With the hand that isn’t intertwined with his, you reach down to tangle in his soft hair. “Wait, I- oh shit- I’m gonna cum.”

He removes the hand that was holding yours from you and brings his thumb down to rub circles into your sensitive clit. “Come on baby, I got you. You can cum for me.” He moves his mouth to rejoin his fingers at your slit to bring you closer to your high. A particularly hard press of his thumb has you crying out in pleasure and grinding desperately against his face. He removes his fingers from you and replaces them with his tongue to help you ride out your high. He greedily drinks up your release until you are weakly nudging him away.

“Do you want me to stop?” He looked up at you innocently, which was contradicting when you remembered the things he was doing mere seconds prior.

“No, I just want to feel more of you.” You could feel a hot blush creep up your body at the realization that he was still halfway clothed, while you laid completely naked in front of him. His brain seemed to process this at the same time because he was quickly ridding himself of his sweatpants and grey boxers.

His hard cock thumps softly against his toned stomach when he stood again and you were having a hard time not staring at the man in front of you. He wasn’t bulky, but the muscles that rippled underneath taut skin were nothing to sneeze at. He glanced up and caught your stare, and returned it with a cocky smirk. “See something you like?”

“I sure do,” you flashed an innocent smile as you sat up and palmed his erection. He gasped at your sudden boldness and leaned onto the bed for support. At this proximity, you were able to tug his earlobe between your teeth and bite down gently. “Please baby, I want you so bad.” Those words snap him back into action and he’s crashing his lips against yours again.

He moves you back up the bed and crawls over your body. He braces his forearms on either side of your head and experimentally grinds his hip against yours. You let out a soft “please” that comes out whinier than you intend. You lean your face up to give him a soft kiss before he reaches down to line himself up with you and slowly presses the tip inside. He shallowly thrusts to slowly work into you, mumbling praises against your skin as he moves deeper.

You can’t help but wince at the stretch his cock always brings you, which would border on outright painful if he didn’t feel so good. Your head falls back against the bed, clawing at his back to try to find something to ground yourself. He glances down to where he is buried deep inside you before pressing his forehead to yours. “I know sweetheart, it's almost there. You’re- fuck- doing so good for me,” he reassures as he presses a soothing kiss to your temple.

When he finally bottoms out he stills his hips to let you get comfortable and adjust to him. He takes this opportunity to pepper your face and chest in kisses and returns one of his hands to your neck where it cradles your head. You bring one of your hands to his hair to tug gently before rolling your hips against him, eliciting a breathy moan from him. “You can move baby, I’m okay.”

He nods and gives a couple of slower thrusts before setting a steady pace. He opted for slower deep strokes which made you feel every inch of him as he thrust into you. His thrusts have his cock brushing all the right spots inside you, and all you can do is gasp and moan for him while clinging to his shoulders. “Megumi, please,” you aren’t even sure what you were asking for. The pleasure has your head spinning and unable to make complete thoughts.

You can tell he is getting closer to his own climax because his thrusts are getting progressively faster and he is getting more vocal. “God, baby you’re taking me so well.” He hooks one of your legs around his waist and the new angle lets him hit your sweet spot with every roll of his hips. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you feel another climax approaching, and Megumi picks up his pace again.

“Is my pretty girl gonna cum for me again?” You bury your face into his shoulder and nod. He moves one of his hands to play with your clit to push you over the edge. You arch into him and let out a strangled moan as your orgasm washes over you. You’re sure you’re leaving deep scratches across his back as you grip him tighter. His hips stutter as you clench around him and he gives a few more sloppy thrusts before he’s cumming too with a loud groan. He unconsciously rocks into you lazily as you both come down from your highs.

“Are you okay baby?” He kisses your forehead and strokes your side to try and bring you back to reality. You nod again, not quite trusting your voice yet. He chuckles and slowly pulls out to not overstimulate you. You squirm at the uncomfortable stickiness between your legs but he’s already moving to the bathroom to grab stuff to clean you up.

When he comes back out he runs a warm cloth along the inside of your thighs and quickly over your center, which has you wincing at the sensitivity. When he's done he pulls out a pair of your pajama shorts and one of his loose shirts for you to wear. He helps you slip the clothes on and tugs his boxers back up before climbing back into bed with you.

You stand up to crack open the window next to the bed before laying with your back against his chest. The cool air from the rain seeps into the room and he mutters a “thank you” into your shoulder, surprised that you remember he runs hot for the rest of the night when he has a nightmare.

The clock on the bedside table shows that it's about 5:30 in the morning, so you estimate that he woke up roughly at 4. “Do you feel okay enough to go back to sleep?” You feel him shrug behind you and you scoot closer to him, pulling one of his arms over your waist to lace your fingers together.

“I don’t know. I should but…” you hear his voice trail off and nod in understanding. He always has a hard time falling back asleep on nights like these. He warned you about his chronic nightmares shortly before moving in together and confessed that he’s had them since he started high school at Jujustu Tech. However, you take small comfort in the knowledge that since living together they’ve gotten less frequent, and his reactions to them have become far less violent.

“Will you feel better if one of your shikigami sleeps in here? Just so you know that nothing will happen.” He considers it for a minute before tugging his hand out of yours, circling his other arm around your waist, and folding his hands to summon his divine dog. Its head pokes out of the shadows under the window. You pat the empty spot on the bed and it jumps up excitedly before laying down and letting you scratch behind its ears.

Megumi chuckles behind you and shakes his head. “You just wanted the dog on the bed didn’t you?” He reaches over to ruffle its soft fur as it dozes off.

“Checkmate,” you crane your head to place a kiss on his cheek before settling back against him. “Now will you please try to go back to sleep? I don’t want to nag you but realistically you can’t function on only two hours of sleep.”

“I’ll try but I can’t make any promises you know.” He tucks his chin on top of your head and relaxes around you. You hum in acknowledgment before slowly drifting back to sleep.

[mysticmoonbooks]

Twisted Desires (1) - Lee Bodecker

Summary: Bonnie Franklin had only one rule, don’t go out after 9. Walking alone was dangerous, the big city being home to all kinds of unsavory folk. Breaking that rule was how she found herself here, chained up in someone's basement. While her rescue doesn’t take long, she finds that her abductor isn’t the only twisted man in town.

Pairings: dark!Lee Bodecker x oc!female MC

Word Count: 1,655 words

Reblogs and likes appreciated!

Overall Warnings: non/dub con, explicit themes, non/dub con smut, toxic relationships, abusive language, trauma bonding, age!gap, kidnapping scenariom, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, MC being treated like an object

Note: This is a very dark, very toxic relationship. Please don’t read if you may struggle with that. Also, while I usually try to write pretty accurate to the character, this will be a much darker version of the usual Lee Bodecker.

The sound of water hitting the tile underneath her was Bonnie’s only clock as she waited for her captor to return. She had gotten used to the soft pitter patter as it was the only sound she had heard since lunch. There were about 100 little drips every minute, at least that she had counted. That’s how she noticed the sudden difference in it. 

They started to fall faster and faster, the small puddle now growing larger. The sink was on, but it had been left on. Bonnie heard the sounds of feet and chairs scuffling across the hardwood. Her heartbeat quickened as she tried to make out the soft voices as they grew louder and louder. There was shouting, near screaming at that point, and then a loud bang. After that, silence. 

It took several more minutes, the drip returning to its normal pace. The silence was only broken by the sound of the basement door opening and bright light spilling into the small room. 

-

Sheriff Lee Bodecker grimaced at the scene before him. Michael Lanford sprawled out on the floor, the stench from his little bootlegging business finally getting to Lee as he looked for the man’s safe.. It didn’t take long to search the little house, leaving only the basement left. 

Lee threw the door open, the sunlight pouring into the dark basement, and peeked his head in. He froze when he heard it, the tinkle of chains. It took his eyes a minute to adjust, but after they did he saw her. She was curled up in the corner, her dress torn up and dirty. The front of it was cut right down the middle, as if Lanford had attempted to undress her before giving up. The white of her undergarments could be seen, the fullness of the cups making his head spin as he stared at her. 

“Please help me, sir.” Her little voice sent shivers straight to his core as he walked into the basement. The key to her chains sat by the door, just out of her reach. It didn’t take long to get her out of them, her falling into his arms with a string of thank yous and tears. The feeling of holding her body tight against him was exhilarating. She had obviously been starved, the dress she had on practically falling off her as he carried her to his cruiser. If he looked down her dress he could see her ribs poking out from her skin. 

“You poor thing, Imma take good care of you, darling.” The words came out as a whisper as he drove, his unoccupied hand playing with a piece of her hair that had come out the bun she wore. “Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing.” 

Lee watched the words sink in just as he pulled into his driveway, her eyes darting around to look for an exit. He allowed himself to slide out of the car, keeping a close eye on her as he slowly walked over to her side. He didn’t want to scare her, instead wanting to keep her in that relieved mood she was in when he found her. 

“Come on, darling. I bet you want a bath, don’t you?” He knelt before her as he undid her seatbelt. She stayed still, watching as he turned her to face him. His movements were gentle, soft. They could almost be described as caring as he helped her out of the car. 

“I wanna go home, sir. My mama must be so worried about me.” Her voice shook as he walked her inside. That old, irrational, anger rose as Lee closed the door behind them. The idea of anyone else being on her mind made him wanna yell and scream, but he held it in. 

“Don’t you be thinking about that. Ain't no one reported you missing, darling.” He was trying to be sweet, to show her he was the only one who cared, but instead it made her cry. Her tears fell harder and harder as they came to the bathroom. His soft shushes and whispers did nothing to make her feel better. An idea came to mind, yet he was hesitant to push her farther than she could take. Yet as she kept crying and begging to be let go, his hesitancy diminished. 

Finally, he snapped and crashed his lips to hers. She froze as if unsure before melting against him. His lips moved with hers with an urgency he had never really felt before. She tasted sweet and addictive, wanting more than just her mouth on his tongue. His cock was hard at the thought of taking her right there and he couldn’t stop himself as his hands found her waist, one coming up to cup her breast. As he squeezed and played with her, her hands came up to weakly hit at his chest, though it did little to stop him. Instead it spurred him on more as he cornered her against the counter. Her body was so responsive to him as he felt her nipples harden against his touch. It thrilled him to watch as she slowly lost herself in their kissing. 

It didn’t take much for the dress to tear the rest of the way, falling off her body as he pressed rough kisses to her neck and shoulders. She whimpered as his hand dipped underneath the lacy bra she wore. 

“What kinda girl wears something like this, huh?” He whispered against her skin, his mouth finding that spot on her neck that made her eyes flutter. She tried to stutter out some words, but his fingers pinched her nipple each time she tried. He smirked as she moved against him, unintentionally pressing herself against his cock. 

“Sir, please. Don’t-” She cut herself off as his hand freed her breast and caught her nipple in his mouth. His tongue swept over the sensitive bud as she let out soft, panting, moans. She didn’t exactly fight him as her fingers wound into her hair. Lee stood up as she whimpered underneath him, pulling off her nipple with a soft pop. 

“I bet you let all kinds of men into your bed, a slut like you always need a cock in her.” His words were harsh, but she blushed and shook her head as he spoke. Her eyes followed his hands as they explored her body, playing with the lace of her panties.

“No, sir. Im-” She whispered as he dipped his hand into her panties. His fingers found her clit, pushing the folds of her pussy apart to get better access. “I’m a virgin, sir. Please.” 

He wasn’t sure what she was begging for and it didn’t seem like she did either as he chuckled and swirled his fingers around her clit, pinching and pulling softly as he did. 

“You’re dripping for my cock, babe. You expect me to believe you ain’t ever been with a man?” Her soft moans echoed through his head as he brought her closer and closer to the edge. His fingers drifted from her clit to her hole, sliding in one with ease. She was tight, much more than he expected as he moved in a slow rhythm. Perhaps she hadn’t been lying after all, the idea of being the only man to please her made his cock twitch.

He used his other hand to tear the delicate panties in half as he continued to fuck her with his hand, the sensation of warm and wet finally getting to him as her hands rested on his chest. He finally took his hand from her pussy as she squeezed around him, drawing a soft whimper from her as he turned her around and had her grip the counter. Realization sunk into her as he undid his belt buckle. 

“Sir, please don’t. I can’t- I’m not ready.” Her whimpers increased as he pulled his cock out, gliding the tip against the fold of her pussy. He scoffed at her as he continued to tease her hole, his other hand coming around to cup her throat.

“Don’t lie to me. You were just about to cum on my hand. Be a good girl and shut your fucking mouth.” His grip tightened as he spoke, her breath coming out more and more labored as he finally pushed into her. Lee’s brain shorted out at the feeling of that tightness around him. He started slow, squeezing her throat every so often. When she could make noise, all that came out were her moans. 

Quickly he found himself picking up speed, until he was relentlessly pounding into her as he choked her lightly. Her moans were loud, fueling him as he drew closer and closer to his release. He felt her tighten around him as her moans became near sobs and brought his unoccupied hand down to smack her ass hard before laying soft kisses on her upper back.

“Such a whore for my cock, huh? Why don’t you cum on it darling?” Like a good girl, she obeyed and he felt warm liquid rush down his cock and her thighs. “Oh, that’s so fucking hot.” 

He pulled out just in time as he shot his load across her back, watching as it dripped down the soft cheeks. Her legs were shaking as he spread her open, watching his cum drip between her ass cheeks and onto her tight hole. It took him all the control he had left not to bend her back over and fuck her until he couldn’t anymore. With a sigh, he let go and turned on the water to start her bath. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?” She didn’t protest as he guided her under the water. Once she was clean, she merely stared ahead as he dried her off. Lee couldn’t help, but feel pride as he took her to his spare room. Now she was his, forever.

[the-huntress]

Little Moth - Chapter 1 - The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning

[Hi guys, welcome to my fanfiction. This is a Resident Evil inspired fanfiction, I wanted to incorporate a number of my favourite characters, and especially our beloved Magnet Daddy. Slow burn, soft smut impending, beyond that who knows… But to be safe I will say that this is for 18+ years of age only. Let me know if you’d liked to be on a tag list for future chapters. Masterlist is pinned. Thank you to everyone that has read so far. <3]

Masterlist

Trigger Warnings: Mention of menstruation, swearing.

Y/N Protagonist, female. Reader X Karl Heisenberg [18+]

Summary:

Your lifelong friend, Leon Kennedy, has mysteriously gone missing two years after the events of Racoon City. You make a discovery that could lead to his whereabouts; dare you enter the Village?

[Photos are my own] You weren’t sure exactly what you were looking at for a moment, arching your back forwards over the desk in the dimly lit room, the glare from the laptop the only source of light. Several windows had been left open on the screen, and despite the turmoil that Leon’s apartment had been left in, this was what had really grabbed your attention.

The most notable of which was a photo, the resolution was grainy, a scan from a black and white film photo, it looked almost like a foetus, but you couldn’t be sure. Was somebody pregnant? It was almost akin to the sort of photograph that expecting parents would show at a baby shower, but this was… different. You had a feeling of impending doom just by looking at this thing.

Next, another very grainy photo of a town, it almost looked like some of the places from back home in England; a church steeple, a castle or maybe a mansion in the distance? A quaint looking village in the snow. And lastly, a very cryptic email;

                                               10/10/2000

Leon,

Know not what I have done, but what I believe must be done now.

Half of the results of good intentions are evil; half of the results of an evil intention are good.

You have the information that you need, please make haste.

A friend.

Well, that’s ambiguous as fuck. You thought to yourself, pushing the chair back and pulling the lighter from the little band on the side of your cap. You reached to your shoulder and cursed. That’s right, you’d given up, “for health reasons”. Putting the lighter back you reached instead for your camera, a notepad and a pen. You’d been tempted to just take the laptop and the scattered papers, but after several years in the police you knew it was beneficial to leave things as they were. Your eyes flitted from paper to paper, taking notes of numbers, flights, times, place names, anything that you could until you’d filled a couple of pages. One page for practical info, and one page, now that you looked at it almost sounded like a fairy tale;

A village, four kings, four lords, and a mysterious ‘Mother Miranda’. You bit the end of the pen and pondered. It was like nothing you’d ever heard of before, what had he got himself into…

Several days ago you had received a text from the man himself;

‘Y/N I am going to be out of

town for a while, something has

come up. Please don’t worry,

will explain soon. Leon. X

P.S. I’ve left Timesplitters in

your mail box, play you again

when I get back! :] ’

And now here you were. You scoffed knowing he’d have had to pay double to send that one, but he was mad to think that you wouldn’t worry, he was like a brother to you, hell, the only family that you had. After a childhood growing up in rural England you had moved to the states with your father and stepmother when you were in those vulnerable years of your teens during the early 90s, but were lucky enough to have met Leon in school. The two of you had become best friends quickly, and even graduated from the same police academy. It was Leon that saved your butt two years ago when all hell broke loose in Racoon City, him and Claire.

You shifted on the collapsible chair in front of the usually neatly tidied desk which was now strewn with various papers and articles. Your thoughts of Claire continued, and you pulled out your Nokia, opened a message and then faltered. It was late. Later than late you realised, seeing the time; 02:08 AM. What am I doing? You didn’t want to wake her, so you put the phone back into the pocket on your belt.

You swept a strand of your hair behind your ear, the outgrown bangs jumping back in the way and you blew at them irritated. You heard a grumble and moaned, looking down at your stomach. Padding across the shiny, tiled floor you left the desk and headed to the kitchen, opening the fridge where you knew there would be left-over pizza. Sure, it was from over a week ago when you were last here hanging out, but hey, it’s pizza, right?

‘Ugh dude, always with the anchovies, why?’ you mumbled, flinging a small fish into the bin and mentally backhanding the back of Leon’s head. Of course, it was his side of the pizza that was left over, probably trying to stay in shape in case he bumped into ‘Ada’ again. You weren’t keen, but then, you didn’t trust her. You looked at your phone again, left on the desk besides the laptop, Leon would be much better off with Claire, but sadly you felt perhaps that ship had set sail long ago.

You went to sit yourself back down at the desk. CRUNCH “Shit!” Your eyes darted to your right knee. “Fuck… you’re not giving me a break are you.” Letting out a sigh you closed your eyes for a moment. Since you were a child your knee had given you problems. A few dislocations, hospital visits, insteps, braces and physiotherapy. You’d had to grit your teeth hard through every physical training session during academy, but you’d made it. Fortunately for you it wasn’t something that many people would be able to notice or spot. You could run for miles with no problem; it was the recovery time in the days that followed that was tough. You knew it was getting worse, and had been reading about how much longer you might have before you’d need a full replacement, but you knew that it could jeopardise your job, you knew you’d likely not get put on the jobs that you wanted, and the thought of being put into the office answering calls made your heart sink.

And then you spotted it, the corner of another window was sticking out from under the others, exposing the corner of a third photograph. Instantly recognising the symbol you felt as though you were falling.

“What…”

Dragging the window and clicking it to full screen you could see this photograph clearly; some kind of mural, was it in stone? It looked as though there were four crests, family crests maybe. And at the centre; “Umbrella.” You breathed. You stared at it for several minutes and quickly took a photo of the screen on your camera, no point trying to get that old thing to work, you thought, looking at the printer at the other end of the desk. You couldn’t help but smirk, memories of Leon trying to print page after page of game walk throughs, whilst trying to find all the secrets in your favourite action/ adventure game, and laughing your head off at him, mouthful of noodles spilling back out into the carton as a hundred pages shot out at him, flying all over the room with cheat codes for a scantily dressed version of the playable character.

You looked at the clock again, time to go. If you were going to do this, you needed sleep and to get going as soon as you could the next day. It might drain your bank account, but it would be worth it. You didn’t have a good feeling about any of this, and more often than not, your gut instincts were right. Grabbing your R.P.D jacket at the door, you took one last glance at the room. It really did look like a whirlwind had hit it, not like Leon when he was in a better mental state at all. You knew that when he wasn’t his best he’d reach a for a drink and then some, but you could see that nothing was broken, and it was mostly clothes scattered, some bits of equipment and where he’d clearly got the luggage bag down from on top of the wardrobe. Nothing to worry about in regard to kidnap or a break in at least; as if that was enough to stop you from worrying about whatever lay ahead in this ‘Village’.

It started to rain just as you got into your apartment building, and you smiled. You’d always liked the rain. Stopping to quickly check your pigeon-hole for mail and seeing nothing you felt something press up against you calf, rubbing itself against the tops of your boots. You looked down and grinned, scooping up a slender, black cat in one hand and kissing the top of her head. “I’m going to miss you Boo, keep an eye on my mail for me while I’m gone, you know how crammed that thing gets.” You winked at her as you set her back down outside Mrs. Little’s door and fished a sandwich bag full of the leftover pizza anchovies out of your R.P.D. bag. “You didn’t think I’d forget you, did you?” Leaving Boo hastily munching into her treats you jogged up the stairs, your knee twinged, but it wasn’t too bad. It just had its moments.

Your apartment was pretty standard for this part of the city; both you and Leon had left Racoon city some time ago, though it wasn’t far from here. It had been destroyed and bordered off and that was all there was too it. You had to tell it to yourself that way to cope. Leon’s apartment was slightly swankier, but then again, he did like his gadgets and liked to keep things tidy, when his thoughts weren’t somewhere else. You on the other hand were happy to know that while everything had its place, sometimes that place would be on the floor… next to the thingy and nestled safely under a cereal box; and that was okay! You picked up the thingy, and looked at it fondly, before folding it up and putting it away with the others.

Stretching and yawning you looked around you, making a mental note of what needed to be done; pack, shower, sleep. You’d get the tickets the next day, and some money too, you’d have to stop off at the currency exchange. What currency did they even use there? Equipment, keep it simple; knives, pistol, rounds, lighter, fluid, compass, torch, camera, medi-kit. A couple of spare pairs of clothes, and you had your light armour that also fit into the case. You knew the contents would raise suspicion, but you had your badge, at the end of the day another cop had gone missing, and your team knew too.

You whipped off the remainder of your uniform and jumped in the shower, the bathroom filling up with steam and bubbles quickly and you sang along to a few songs on the radio. Wiping the mirror to see yourself more clearly you felt all your insecurities flood to you at once, as well as seeing yourself for the natural beauty that you were. You pursed your lips, staring into your own eyes and promised you’d find him safe and bring him back. He’d yell at you for going in the first place, but you knew this wasn’t right. Something wasn’t right. Traipsing out from the bathroom, you felt the cool air attack your flushed skin. You liked it, you were always a window open kind of person, no matter the weather, the fresh air just soothed you. Of course, that meant the odd moth now and again, like now as you heard the tiny body plummet time and time again against the spherical glass shade of the dim lamp besides your bed. Snuggling up into the loose blankets you smiled at the little creature and pulled the cord on the lamp, smiling again as you felt the moth settle on the side of your head.

After that you actually fell to sleep very quickly. It had been a long day after all; a 6AM start, patrol, arresting some juvies for petty crimes, followed by yet another zombie scare, (false alarm thank God), before filing up all the paper work and heading to Leon’s. Sleep fell like a veil of cool clouds, taking you in and raising you up into the inky blue skies of the night. The next thing you knew, you were butt naked in a dark green forest, dew drops shining on moss like a trillion tiny emeralds. Mist hung thick in the air, and thousands of tiny moths flew up from the ground? No. From you. You were raising your arms up to the skies, the moss covered forest floor moist under your bare feet and between your toes. Behind you the silhouette of a deer… antlers, but much, much taller. In front of you a pair of cold silver-gold eyes in the dark. You felt drawn, ever so drawn, taking one step forward, and then another, your arms coming down now, hands outstretched in caring caress, your heart swelled, your lips bloomed, taking in a short breath, and then; blood. Gushes of it, soaking into the moss, reddening Earth’s green carpet, and dripping down the trunks of the trees, the moths falling from the air around you, their wings sticking and stopping in the thick, red mess.

“Shit!” You fell back down onto your bed, several items around you also crashing down. Hand to your head, you looked wildly about. It happened again. Whatever had fallen this time had been heavy. You turned to see half the cutlery that had been lying on the kitchen tops now on the floor, and the knives and pistol that you’d placed earlier on top of the luggage bag were now in the middle of the floor. A sudden feeling of loneliness washed over you. The same dream, but longer, and this time with blood. “Shit” again, you put a hand to your pants, pulled the covers back and saw red. “Well, that’s one more thing I need to bring with me.” You mumbled, rolling your eyes, and throwing yourself back onto the bed.

Song Suggestion: ‘The Beginning Is The End Is The Beginning’ by The Smashing Pumpkins

[paper-n-ashes]

sparks and embers - chapter 15

Characters: Kylo Ren x Original Female Character, Poe Dameron x Original Female Character

Story Tags: Explicit (18+), Canon Compliant/Divergent (Set after TLJ), First Person POV, Love Triangle, Slow Burn, Enemies to Lovers, Porn with Plot, Hurt/Comfort, Kylo Ren hates Poe Dameron

Chapter 15 - Heat

Words: 4.1k

Chapter Tags/Warnings: Descriptions medical care/procedures, mentions of a flu-like illness with severe symptoms, mentions of physical injury/blood

Read on AO3 or Start from the beginning

~

It was glaringly obvious Kylo had fallen into hyperpyrexia, his severely increased body temperature now rendering him comatose.

None of my usual checks for responsiveness yielded any positive results, not even a slight whimper when I rubbed my knuckles into his sternum. I was already cursing at myself I hadn’t pushed harder to get that cannula placed, his blood pressure now falling into dangerous territory with all the fluid seeping from his burning skin.

But that was still a secondary priority. Right now, I needed to cool him down before the fever damaged his organs.

Putting him under a cold stream of water was the most efficient option, but I had yet to figure out where his refresher was located. Scanning the room, my eyes locked onto a door sitting in the corner of the room. Leaving the bedside and swiping over the entry button, I was relieved to find my assumption was correct, the glimmeringly clean ‘fresher somewhat different to the ones I was used to, the dark tiles creating a bizarrely ominous atmosphere.

Rushing back to Kylo’s shivering body, I immediately ripped off the monitor lines, hesitating while I tried to formulate a plan of how I was going to move him. I didn’t know how I kept finding myself having to haul heavy, masculine bodies around to save their lives, but there wasn’t much time to dwell on that thought.

Kylo remained unmoving as I lugged his torso upright, the weight of half his body already difficult to handle on my own. It concerned me during this struggle he still didn’t rouse, and a cold fear began to stir deep down, that I was already too late. 

No. There’s no way. He couldn’t die this way.

He won’t. As long as you’re fast.

The voice steadied my fear, a strong resolve pulsing through me.

I had my arms wrung under Kylo’s armpits, having already pulled the top half of his form around to make his back face me. With my hands clamped together in front of his chest, I heaved hard to drag him off the side of the mattress, my muscles aching under the stress of his hefty figure. I was able to guide his body to the ground, still hearing his quickened breaths escaping, and began to drag him around the frame of the bed, my strained movement agonisingly slow.

There was an unmistakable warmth radiating off his skin, his shirt moist with sweat, and I couldn’t help but wonder how long he’d been like this. I thought I’d made it clear he should communicate any worsening symptoms, that I was only a room away if he needed something.

Eventually I tugged Kylo past the entry of the ‘fresher and pulled him haphazardly over the recess of the shower, hoping I didn’t bruise him on the way. Annoyingly, his shower was four walled with glass, making the small space difficult to manoeuvre around without bumping into each side multiple times as I finally managed to hoist his whole body inside. Stepping over where I’d placed his limp figure, I pressed the start button, ice cold water pounding into me as I moved past its potent stream.

The water began to rain down over Kylo’s form, quickly soaking every portion, his black hair saturated against his scalp. Worry gripped me further when even this didn’t elicit any form of response, sure that the frosty temperature would shock him into awareness again.

In pure desperation, I knelt down with him on the shower floor and began to peel the water sodden fabric of his shirt up his chest, having to pull his toned arms up to strip the sleeves from the skin, throwing the soaked material away. I already knew he would be severely displeased with my course of action, but there was simply no other alternative. The more surface area exposed to the cooling effect of the shower, the quicker I might bring his temperature down.

It was different this time, seeing his exposed chest, only noting how vulnerable he seemed, shallow breaths still short and sharp, his face flushed with a deep crimson. Kneeling with him on the floor, also being drenched by the chilled stream, I placed one hand to his wrist, feeling for a pulse. Still exceedingly rapid, but regular. Pushing back the strands of hair that’d shifted over his eyes by the shower’s flow, I noticed a flicker of movement behind the lids.

“Kylo! Open your eyes!” I pleaded, a part of me searching out for his energy signature. It was there, I could still feel his life force emanating from the unresponsive body in front of me. But the energy pulse was subtle, dimmed so much more than I was used to, usually sensing it easily even if we were separated by walls. With a hand still resting at the side of his face, water pouring down over both of us, I grazed my thumb over the skin of his cheek, silently waiting, hoping that I’d acted in time to drag him back to this reality.

In these surreal moments, with his mask removed, simmering fury suppressed, he seemed so much more… human. Just another being clinging onto life. I couldn’t pull my touch away, a soothing glow rising from the points where my fingerprints brushed his skin - a sensation I hadn’t felt before, one that I couldn’t recognise.

In the next instant, a burst of his energy surged outwards in a flash of panic, darkened eyes flaring open. My body was immediately shoved away, flung out of the shower into the tiled wall of the ‘fresher, the side of my head slamming into the ceramic. Even through the painful haze, I couldn’t be surprised that he’d pushed me away this time. The scene he’d woken up to was significantly more startling than simply rousing from sleep.

Quickly collecting myself through the headache throbbing inside my skull, I placed my hands up in submission, watching his face dart around, frenzied eyes trying to comprehend how he’d arrived in this location.

“Your fever grew so high it caused you to lose consciousness. I was trying to cool you down,” I described slowly, attempting to convey in my expression the seriousness of his condition. “Please just take a second to breathe. I’m here to help you through this.”

Kylo remained suspicious, yet fortunately did as I asked, and breathed. I could see how hard it was for him to inhale properly, noting the heave of effort visible in the accessory muscles around his ribs and neck. He went to shift his arms, placing them at each side of his legs, trying to force himself up. The effort was wasted, the pushing motion creating no lift, a strained expression now settling on his face.

“I feel… so… weak…” he puffed, looking to me for an explanation.

I tentatively crawled towards him, palms still up, kneeling just out of the shower recess. “It’s the fever. Your body’s working so hard to fight the virus that it can’t provide the energy it needs to give strength to your limbs right now. But I don’t want you to worry about that. Just keep breathing and let the water do its work to bring down your temperature.” My eyes grew softer, wanting to exude some sense of composure and calm. “Please let me do what I need to do to help. I’ve got a plan, and I’ll explain everything as we go.”

Kylo stared back, searching over my face, and I thought for a moment I could see the trace of fear dash over his features. But it was fleeting, and so foreign for him that I wasn’t sure I saw it at all. As a few seconds passed he simply nodded, head then leaning onto the tile in exhaustion.

“I’m going to get a few things ready. But I will be right back,” I promised. Knowing he was awake, breathing and seemingly orientated was enough reassurance for me to leave him for the few minutes it would take to get a proper treatment strategy underway.

There was a haze of wooziness that overcame me when standing up, stumbling slightly as I went to exit the ‘fresher. Before leaving, I spotted my face in the mirror and noticed the dark red drip of blood leaking from a decent sized cut on my forehead, a by-product of crashing into the hard, black tiles. 

Dammit. That would need bacta. 

I hurried to the medical supply cupboard and pulled a stronger anti pyretic and hypertensive from the pharmacy section, along with several bags of IV hydration and towels. Setting the vials to where I had my cannula kit set up, my feet took me out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Opening the conservator to the freezing chamber, I stuffed the fluid bags and thick fabric inside. The chill released from the compartment was quick to make me shiver, my soaked sweater increasing the sting of cold against my skin. After closing the conservator door, I pulled at the bow on my back and unravelled the fabric, leaving me only in a white singlet undershirt.

I would have worried about looking unprofessional, or even a little too exposed, but I wasn’t about to cause my own hypothermia.

On the way back, I attempted to run a set of fingers through my hair, the strands having been tangled into a sodden mess from the shower’s stream. I’d already forgotten about the painful gash on my head, a hiss bursting past my lips when I’d wandered too close to the wound. I popped back into the supply closet and snatched the bacta-infused anaesthetic salve I’d eyed earlier in the night, smearing some blindly over the laceration, only to alleviate some of the discomfort while I dealt with Kylo’s health first.

He was in much the same condition as when I’d left, slumped awkwardly against the corner of the shower, his lids scrunched hard, still heaving through each breath. I moved to turn the flow off, his eyes opening as I dipped down to his level again.

“All I want you to do right now is focus whatever energy you have on slowing your breathing, okay? Breathe along with me.” I glared at him while beginning a long inhale, my hands motioning upwards with the movement of my chest, and held the breath. He followed my instruction, although it was clear the action wasn’t as easy for him, a subtle strain burning behind his dark irises. After a few seconds I let the hold on my lungs go, making it obvious to Kylo to take the extra moments to allow for an adequate exhale. After repeating the process several times, his attempts became marginally better.

“Focus on keeping that rhythm,” I insisted. “Now, I’m going to get you back into bed, and place that cannula we talked about, alright? And it’s also time for that breath mask to get your oxygen levels back up.”

I waited for the refusal, to view the same disgruntled expression I’d seen hours ago in response to my suggestions, yet he simply nodded, the movement causing a few droplets of water to drip from his soaked hair, the beads wriggling down his chest.

“Is it alright if I help you to stand?” I asked gently as I shifted into an upright position, reaching a hand out with my offer. Again, I presumed he would wave off my assistance, so it was difficult not to be startled when he lifted his arm to grasp a large hand into mine, holding it tightly as he began to pull himself up, pushing his back against the tiled wall to steady his shaky movements.

Even when I began to lead him out of the shower space, he didn’t let go, gripping hard around my fingers, even leaning into my more stable stance as we walked. His shuffled footsteps were slow and measured, obvious he was still extremely weakened and pained by the effects of this illness.

Eventually we completed the short journey to his bed, guiding Kylo to sit at the edge. His head hung down, and I felt a twinge of true sympathy for the man, recalling a distant memory of surviving through the same type of sickness and how miserable it’d made me.

“Just stay in this position for a moment, I’ll be right back,” I told him softly, rushing out of the room. I pulled the towels and one of the IV bags back out of the freezing chamber, noticing how much stronger this one was compared to the one I lived with on Raxus, the items already icy to the touch. Returning to the bedside, I opened one of the towels and spread it over the mattress. “You can lie down now.”

He followed my order, albeit slowly, slumping down onto his back. There was a slight hiss that escaped, likely from the contrast of the frosted material hitting his overheated skin, yet his expression soon melted into one of relief. I handed him the other towel I’d prepared. “You can put this wherever feels most comfortable.”

He plucked the fabric from my grasp and splayed it sideways over his torso. I couldn’t be sure if this area was where he felt the most heat, or if he was simply uncomfortable being on display. Either way, I was more than content if he felt even the slightest bit more relaxed for my next task.

“I’m going to place this cannula now, alright?” I asked, giving him one final opportunity to refuse. He’d seemed so focused on the idea of consent in the past that I wanted to prove my own point in providing him the same level of respect.

“Just be quick about it,” he muttered.

I grabbed the kit, having everything opened and prepared to reduce my time making him uneasy. Kylo’s eyes never left me as I worked in silence, seeming only curious. It was the second I touched my fingers to the skin of his arm, pulling the tourniquet around his bicep, that his mood changed. The aura around his shape suddenly shimmered with an intensity I couldn’t exactly explain as positive or negative. It was just… there, my attention hard to snag away from it’s confusing strength.

With forced concentration, I pierced the guide needle through the skin on the inside of his elbow, the veins predictably easy to navigate given his toned form. He didn’t flinch at the insertion, barely a waver in the energy around him, making it even more obvious my connection to him was causing the most pain.

The cannula patent and line attached, I turned the flow on and stepped away, Kylo’s unusual energy fading soon after. Collecting the strewn monitor lines, I silently offered them to him to position back on the conducer dots still in their correct arrangement. Even in this weakened state, he was eager to do the task himself, clipping them back on one by one.

His vitals were much the same, glancing at the results once before going to seize the pulmonary resuscitation kit from where I’d settled it on one of the draws. He didn’t make the slightest motion of denial when I handed him the breath mask, stretching it over his face and taking the next few seconds to consume the high flow of pure oxygen. Seeing his oxygenation level rise was reassuring, glad that he’d avoided intubation for the time being.

Preparing two separate med-injectors with the medication I’d selected, I showed him each one before pushing it through the IV line. “This one’s to push your blood pressure up. This one’s to help bring your fever down.”

He nodded in understanding, closing his eyes through more deepened breaths. And with that, my treatment plan was in motion, and all I could do was wait until the next crisis. If there was one.

I picked up the data pad I’d flung onto the cushioned bedroom bench sitting at the foot of Kylo’s bed, resting down on it while beginning the long task of inputting all that had occurred. I wanted every piece of evidence I’d done all I could to support his care, refusing to give Hux any reason to scold my measures in treating his Supreme Leader. In the midst of my furious typing, Kylo’s voice broke through the silence.

“Sorry for making you bleed,” he murmured, the words muffled by the mask over his face.

My hand shot up to the cut, feeling where the skin had been sliced apart. I looked at him questioningly, wondering at what time he’d turned from someone who had threatened to slash through my throat with a lightsaber into the man in front of me now - one who was apologising for a small wound on my temple.

“It’s fine,” I assured him. “I understand how strange it would have been to wake up to… all of that.”

He made a noise resembling a laugh. “That does put it lightly.”

“I wouldn’t have done it if not absolutely necessary.”

“I know,” Kylo agreed, his voice almost too quiet to hear.

A few beats of silence passed, my eyes flitting to the monitor screen. “Your vitals are already looking better. Just try to rest as much as you can.”

“Are you going to stay?”

I looked back to him, his stare somewhat entreating. “I can leave if me being here makes you uncomfortable.”

“No.” He took another breath, now with less exertion. “It would be preferable if you stayed.”

“Okay then. I’ll be right here.”

Questions bubbled to the surface like boiling water, simmering inside my mind, the heat extending out to the rest of my body. The pace of my heartbeat picked up, a feeling somewhat akin to satisfaction curving through my blood, his request implying a degree of trust between us that’d arrived without my awareness.

But, as it always seemed to be, the timing wasn’t right. I couldn’t bring myself to bother him with my wonderings, now that he’d already settled his head on the pillow, lids shut and breaths slowing. As severe as my curiosity burned, it couldn’t overcome the image of seeing Kylo drift back into a more peaceful sleep.

*

I’d turned the lights down, just enough so I could easily navigate the space through another deterioration. While I’d managed to stay awake during the next few hours, the hypnotic beat from the monitor constantly threatened to make me doze off.

Kylo had thankfully fallen into slumber, but since thrown off the cooling towel covering his torso during his dreaming, evident in the occasional tossing and low murmurs. The breath mask had been pulled off too, but when he maintained an adequate oxygen level on room air, I decided against waking him to replace it.

Being faced with his bared chest again was unusual to me now, feeling the call of two sides echoing through my mind. While it was difficult not to let my eyes wander and admire the sporadic tensing of his muscles, I was nagged by a part of my psyche that knew how much he disliked being so exposed. How disrespectful it was to his privacy.

The realisation made me smother any urge to peek at him several times during the early morning, even when I knew he would be oblivious to my attempts at maintaining his dignity.

Some time later, as the previous night continued to fade into a passing memory, my hands worked to exchange the IV hydration bag, having injected a mild pain reliever into the infusion with the aim of keeping Kylo’s sleep as undisturbed as possible. Although, that would need to be after I checked his temperature again.

A more agreeable patient might have allowed me to place an internal temperature probe on the inside of their nose long ago for continual monitoring. Yet, being more invasive and how downright irritating it can feel, I gathered Kylo would think this as the lesser of two bad options.

He was curled over towards the middle of the bed, the side he favoured now an open area I settled down onto, one leg still dangling over the edge of the mattress. Leaning over his body when I’d woken him yesterday evening seemed to startle him more, as did trying to shake him awake with my hands. This time I wanted to avoid yet another knock of my head into a hard surface.

“Kylo,” I called, not hushing my tone. “I have to wake you for a temperature check.”

I let a few seconds pass, and it was a deliberate exhale that indicated he was alert again. His torso turned to the direction of my voice, eyelids struggling to flutter open, and began to move his arms to his side, pushing himself into a sitting position against the headboard.

I gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’ll only take me a moment.”

He nodded groggily, still in the residual haze of weariness. I waited for him to move his hair back in preparation for the probe, yet he remained motionless.

Guess I’ll have to do it myself.

My movement was slow, careful, giving ample time to refuse my touch. But as fingers inched closer to his face, a stirring inside my chest began to make itself known, telling me that… I really didn’t want him to.

I found myself caught in another moment of charged emotion, sensing a profound longing to simply graze my fingers against his hair. His eyes shot open as I neared his temple, our stares suddenly locked with a growing intensity, embers inside my stomach crackling to life.

Yet… he still didn’t stop me.

My fingertips gently sunk into his softened, dark waves, the connection swiftly turning the sparks into wild flames. If Kylo sensed the change in my disposition he didn’t express it within his face, only noticing the tautness of his jaw. But it was different this time. I couldn’t recognise any pain in his features, the discomfort I’d become used to now nowhere to be seen.

Shifting the hair over his ear, brushing the skin behind it, I relished the thrilling sensation it pulsed through my arm and into the rest of my body. I became lost in it, this intimate moment formulated from nothing spectacular. 

Although when my hand began to fall downwards, the connection severed, a callous shame began spiralling around my mind, humiliation soon saturating my thoughts. There was no doubt Kylo would have felt so much discomfort from the encounter, his expression remaining stern and taut.

When his own hand began to rise, finding its way to my cheek with his thumb skimming tenderly over the skin, I felt the blaze held deep within my abdomen erupt into an inferno, my body tensed in anticipation for something I wasn’t aware I had been waiting for. Without warning, fingers became laced through my hair and Kylo drew my face closer, leaning in to touch his lips to mine.

It was gentle, the motion of his mouth slow and cautious. I responded just as carefully, moving my lips only when he did. It was sweet, unassuming, an utter dichotomy of the man I knew him to be.

It was when I felt his spirited energy begin to flow around us, with absolutely no hint of probing smoke, that his kiss became more urgent, reaching his other hand to my waist to wrench me flush against his chest. I let my mouth part wider in between kisses, tongue skimming the inside of his top lip. A restrained groan rumbled from his chest, causing me to relinquish all control over conscious thought, shifting to straddle his hips, not letting our lips separate.

I felt it instantly, the hardness obvious underneath me, but I was more focused on the passion of Kylo’s kiss, his energy spiking into waves of fiery pulses that were tangible against my skin.

Everything else was forgotten. Everything I knew, everything I felt, gone. My senses completely ensnared by his magnetic force around me. Kylo continued in his desperation, now swirling his tongue over mine, greedy. The hold he’d captured me into grew tighter, our chests pressing hard into one another, the radiating warmth of his skin flaring into my body.

Suddenly, a piercing thought carved its way through my mind. A reminder of the last time I’d felt this way, so deeply trapped in desire and fervour.

I pulled my face back, and it became immediately clear Kylo had done the same, his hands jerking away from me in the same instant. I scampered off his figure, backing away, our eyes linked in a shared disbelief at what had just transpired.

“You should leave," he ordered, his voice low.

“Gladly,” I whispered back, turning to escape out of the room.

~

Next chapter

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[jisungscaramel]

tinted glass | han

❀ genre: smut with a little angst, office au ❀ pairing: Han x Reader (female) ❀ word count: 1.7k

[Warning] explicit sexual content, (mild) power play, dom Han, face fucking, spanking, (mild) s&m, (mild) degradation

You wrinkled your nose in absolute distaste at the tacky decor of his office. It just screamed new money pretending to be old money. 

It was in the corner of the building - two of the four walls were lead glass, tinted black for less than obvious reasons (mere privacy was only part of it). 

When you walked in, the first thing you noticed was the white marble tiles, spaced by a gold colored grout. The amplified clang of your caramel stiletto pumps echoed in your ears annoyingly so. 

There were two loveseats facing each other, divided by a coffee table, which was the only thing in the room that was remotely normal. It was simple cherry wood with cabriole legs. The couches were a different story. They were covered in red velvet, and the wood frame was detailed in gold - it looked like it came straight out of a Victorian castle and not in a good way. 

You hung your coat on the edge of the couch, and draped yourself over it, making yourself comfortable by resting your head on the arm and your legs over the velvet seat without getting your shoes onto it. 

You had a clear view of his desk on the far end of the room. It was fashioned from the same cherry wood of the coffee table. The desk was solid, revealing no secrets, and it had a warm toned granite top. The chair was just as extravagantly tasteless as the loveseats - they shared a design. Aside from a small stack of paperwork, a fountain pen in a black marble Art Deco style pen holder, and a name plaque, the desk was clear. 

The name plaque in particular drew your attention. It was glass with a name lasered inside; its simplicity set it apart from practically everything else in the office. You actually didn’t hate it. 

Han Jisung, CEO, it read. 

It wasn’t the first time he requested this of you but it was never in his office. It was a bit unorthodox for you but it didn’t matter if he was still paying you extra for your “overtime.” 

“‘I’ll be there at 10 sharp,’ my ass,” you muttered to yourself, rolling your eyes. His “appointment” technically started two minutes ago; his mild tardiness was out of character. 

As the door began to creak open, you arched your neck back to get a clear view, not wanting to get up and turn around. 

And there he was, black hair side parted and neatly arranged, ears adorned by diamond studs. His suit was all black and perfectly tailored. The gold detail on his loafers matched his cufflinks. He was definitely attractive, and even if you’d never admit it to him in a non-sexual setting, you most certainly had no issue in admitting it to yourself. 

“You’re here early,” he remarked, voice nonchalant but his eyes would soon tell a different story. He strode toward his desk to set down the briefcase in his hand. He turned around to lean against his desk, crossing his arms and studying you with his gaze. 

“I’m not early; you’re just late. You told me to be here at 10 PM… it’s 10:07.” 

He raised an eyebrow in amusement, “is that so?” 

His attention was more focused on the fabric on your body, or rather the lack thereof. You sported a red blazer, opened to reveal a black lace bra. You had a short tight skirt to match the blazer and off-black thigh highs. Your hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and you had bright red lipstick to match your suit. 

Clearly, you’d picked the perfect outfit because the dome forming in his trousers was all too apparent. 

“Take that blazer off… and the skirt too.” 

You obediently followed his orders, placing the garments next to you on the couch. 

“Now come here.” His eyes moved up and down your frame as you walked toward him, fixing on your lips when you fixed your position a foot away from him. “On your knees.” He affectionately petted your hair as you lowered yourself in front of him. He started unbuckling his belt. “Hands behind your back.” He dropped his pants and boxers down his legs in one motion, erection springing free. “Suck.” 

You placed an open mouthed kiss on the tip, dragging your tongue down his length and back up again. You took the head into your mouth, circling its underside with your tongue - that was where he was the most sensitive. He growled lowly, gripping the edge of his desk. 

Your lips rounded to cover your teeth and you slowly took as much of his length as you could without the aid of your hands to keep you balanced. You started bobbing your head up and down, making zero effort to curtail the gurgling sounds you inadvertently were making in an attempt to fight off your gag reflex. 

“Fuck, why are you so good at this?” He threw his head back, gripping the base of your ponytail to guide you into a faster, deeper pace, and he began grinding into your mouth, just desperate for more friction. 

You had to tighten the back of your throat just to keep up. Tears began rolling down your eyes, and drool began rolling down the side of your mouth. 

He smirked. “Your face is so gorgeous when it’s stuffed with my dick,” he purred, stroking your cheek with the back of his index finger, “Such a good little whore.” 

And right when you felt like your throat couldn’t take anymore, you felt a familiar thick salty fluid coat your tongue. “Open.” You opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out to catch the remainder of Jisung’s release as he haphazardly stroked it out, not caring if a drop or two fell on your cheek… or your chest. 

Swiftly, he lifted you from your kneeling position and had you bent over his desk. He smirked at the revelation of your crotchless black lace panty. He gave your pussy a gentle slap, pressing his middle finger against your clit.

He drew his hand back. This time, he made harsh contact with one of your ass cheeks, making you cry in masochistic pleasure. 

He groped your ass tightly, aligning his hips with your thighs to steadily dry hump you. In a matter of seconds, his cock was stiffening again, prodding hungrily on your opening. When you’d first begun this affair with your superior, you were surprised at his recovery time. Now it was normal. 

He took the head into his hand, navigating it through your folds. “God, you’re fucking dripping, and I’ve barely touched you. Do you love giving me head that much?” he teased, bending over you until his lips were on your ear, “or maybe you’ve been dreaming all day about me rearranging your insides.” His low whisper reverberated through your nerves, making your core pulse in anticipation. 

And for a second, you slip out of character, “oh you wish,” your held back sass was just begging to escape. 

He bottomed you out instantly, your slick sin making it all too easy for him. He used so much pressure that he felt the surface of your cervix, making you scream in both pain and delight. 

“Did you just talk back to me?” The sound of his voice competed with the constant beat of his skin on your skin. 

“N-no sir.” You struggled to speak coherently, not able to fight back your moans and mewls. 

He pulled out abruptly and brought you up to stand, methodically yet hurriedly guiding you to the wall, pressing your body against the glass.

“Fuck..” he hissed as he struggled to fit back in you, pussy swelling from the short lived but strong beating it already got. He spit on his fingers and brought them down to your folds, smearing his saliva with your juices to make it easier for him. 

He slowly slid into you, and your eyes rolled back at the friction of him stretching you out, electricity igniting your body. The heat that radiated from where your bodies met contrasted wonderfully with the cold sensation from the glass. 

For an instant, your eyes closed focusing on the feeling alone, but something else entered your mind: an imagination, the imagination of someone else behind you blowing your back out. 

“Changbin…” you whispered softly, and upon realizing your mistake, your eyes shot open. The only sound Jisung offered was the usual array of grunts and growls. Either he didn’t notice or he chose to ignore it. 

He lifted your leg up, guiding it to fold in to move over between his torso and your back and down on the other side. Now you were facing him. He gripped your thighs to give you more leverage, and you clung to his shoulder for support. 

“Look at me.” His gaze was so piercing yet filled to the brim with lust, making the adrenaline release from every cell in you. His lips found their way to yours, kneading at them with pure carnal aggression.

He pressed your knees against the glass to get deeper access and he adjusted his angle to salaciously brush your clit. 

“Fuck, Jisung, don’t stop…” 

Words couldn’t express the medley of sensation that overtook your body when all your built up frustration found a release. 

Jisung let you ride out your high, still chasing his own, not caring if it overstimulated you. It felt indefinite to you but in seconds, he was twitching inside you, pulling out half way to watch himself spill onto your thighs. 

For the longest time, the only sound in the room was heavy breathing, but eventually you found your way (while half-limping) to his velvet chair, frankly not giving a fuck if it got stained or not.

Jisung opened one of the drawers of his desk and pulled out a wipe, handing it to you to clean yourself up. 

“Do I have lipstick smeared on my face?” you asked. 

“Hmm, no. Do I?” 

You snickered, “Yeah, a little bit.” 

Out of nowhere, he said, “You called out Changbin’s name earlier.”

“Oh…” Your pulse was exponentially increasing.

“Why?” 

><><><><><><><

A/N this is sort of a reinvented version of something I wrote a long time ago... not that anyone is gonna recognize it from the original... (gif isn’t mine)

[moral-turpitudes]

The Mask:

Gif creds to: @allisonwells​ 

A/N: Don’t know why this gif made me think of this but I hope y’all enjoy. As someone who suffers from anxiety, it was nice being able to put some of it into words. So just know if you’re struggling, you got this and ily.

Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of Anxiety, Angst, Some Fluff.

Word Count: 1,229

Characters: Michael Gray x Female!Reader

Requested: No

Summary: Michael comes home to find Y/N an anxious mess due to his recent jobs with the company, and realizes even the strongest of people need help at times.

Some nights were easier than others. Given the line of work Michael was in, it was as though you were suspended in a perpetual state of worry. A constant tidal wave of thoughts rushing through your brain, your mind jumping to conclusions and sowing seeds of doubt inside your heart at a terrifying pace.

It was something Michael had seen here and there over the years you’d been together, but you’d been able to hide it behind an elegant mask until now. When you would get too far into your head, he would always be there somehow. There to guide you back to the present, but tonight was different.

The spot beside you was cold and empty, your fingers gliding over the soft fabric as the “what if’s” ran through your mind. Some days it was easier to control, knowing you had to help at the shop or keep the bookies in line. But once at home, like now, all control went away. Your mask fell as if it weighed a hundred pounds and you’d finally had enough of bearing it.

In the quiet moments like this, waiting for him to come back from god knows where, was when you fought it the most. None of the family except for Tommy or Arthur really knew what it was like to have these racing thoughts, these helpless feelings that were often paired with vivid nightmares. But you fought them as best you could until you’d hear the bedroom door open.

Usually he’d be out helping Tommy, much to his mother Polly’s dismay. But you and everyone else knew that when Tommy gave an order, everyone was expected to follow through with it. If not, they’d face him, and no one wanted to face the devil himself.

As the thoughts rummaged through your mind, you felt your breathing get heavy. Your palms clamming up and the blankets that covered you in warmth suddenly feeling like a thousand suns.

Knowing yourself all too well, you knew you had to start doing something-anything-to stop the noise.

With frantic hands you peeled away the blankets and put on your house-shoes, knowing he should’ve been home by now. He’d been better at getting home at a reasonable time ever since his brush with death at the hands of one of Tommy’s many enemies a year ago. You’d been in Michael’s study, drinking and nervously pacing as you waited for him. That call making your spine shiver as you remembered it.

But now you sat in that same room, nursing a cup of tea as you skimmed a book. Not bothering to pay full attention to the contents on the page. Desperately trying to rid yourself of the worry as you sat alone in your shared home.

The shrill ringing of the phone startled you out of a daze, your mind thinking of a thousand scenarios at once as you tiredly answered.

“Gray residence, Y/N speaking.”

“Hello love it’s me. I’ll try to be home soon, so don’t wait up for me. Try to get some rest alright?” He asked. You could hear the strain in his voice as the loud chatter from the boys erupted in the background.

“No promises, but thanks for calling though. I’ll see you soon. Love you.” You said, fatigue evident in your voice.

“Love you too.” He said, hanging up as you listened to the line go dead.

You sighed and brought your tea up to the bedroom, sitting it on the night stand as you hummed to yourself, picking at your nails as you sat on the plush mattress. Your nails, once covered in a light blue polish were picked until there was no color left. The minutes seeming to pass by at an agonizing pace as you thought of what he’d seen that night.

With sleep eluding you, you stepped into the bathroom. Slowly stripping away your nightgown and undoing the tight bun that you’d placed your hair in earlier for work.

You took a deep breath, splashing cold water on your face, willing yourself to look in the mirror at your paled complexion. The recent tension with the gangs finding its way into your bones and making you a tense mess just as much as the rest of the family.

With a hesitant step, you got in the shower, letting the hot water fall on your skin. Hoping that it’s heat would melt away the stress you’d been feeling, knowing as soon as you’d left it’s warm embrace, the frigid air of anxiety would come crawling back.

As you hastily showered, you heard the door open to your room. Your head poking out of the curtain as your eyes scanned the dark bedroom.

Not a second later you saw Michael walking into the bathroom, nose bloodied and arms bruised as he stripped off his suit.

“Mind if I join you?” He asked.

“Please.” You said weakly. Your heart rate slowing as the man you loved stood next to you, his hands resting on your hips.

You gently washed the blood off his face, shakily bringing his lips to yours as you both stood under the steaming shower.

“I’m sorry I was late Y/N. What do you need?” He asked when you broke your lips away from his. Knowing full well that when you were up this late it was usually when things got bad.

You couldn’t help the tears that fell as you looked down at the tiled floor. The weight of the day and the last few weeks finally catching up to you.

“It’s just...a lot and I hate that I can’t always explain it. Do you ever wish you could turn your thoughts off...just for a moment?” You asked, resting your head on his chest.

“Sometimes yeah. It got bad again aye?” He said.

“Yeah. I’m sorry for getting so worked up...I know I can trust you and that you’ll be home safe. Well....relatively safe.” You said, smirking a bit as you looked up at him. The bleeding on the bridge of his nose finally clearing up.

“No need to be sorry love. You care and that’s what matters. You’ll be alright. I’m here now though, you know I always will be.” He said, embracing you tightly as the tears fell at a faster pace than before.

He let you cry it out though, knowing you always waited until the shower turned on to cry so no one would hear you. He admired your strength around everyone else but hated seeing you crumbling before him more often than not. Knowing all he could do in the moment was be there with you.

“How about we get to bed love?” He asked quietly, stroking your hair as you lifted your head to look at him.

He wiped a stray tear falling down your cheek as you nodded silently. Not having the strength to say much at the moment.

Even though the nights were long at times, you always knew you could count on him, even if he was miles away at times. But the darkness that followed you always threatened to rear its ugly head. Always making you doubt the ones you loved, and fearing the unknown. But it was in moments like these that you cherished him, knowing he’d always be there to prove it wrong, to help you fight through it no matter what.

Michael Gray Tag List:

(If you’d like to be added/removed just shoot me an ask!) :)

@inglourious-imagines, @caelys, @smallheathgangsters, @ta-ka-shi-ma

[tsumuniri]

━━━ Atsumu Miya is a free-loader. Living inside his twin brother's home as if it was his, he would bring home girls and annoy Osamu most of the time. Y/N L/N is quite the opposite apparently because she's a virgin loser. Being the popular anonymous BL mangaka known as Yamazaki, she stays in the homey abode of her parents and watches boys from afar for references (not for admiration sadly).

Now what will happen if fate decided to tie these two idiots together and made them live across each other in one apartment?

。m.list ❯❯ prev┃next

ONE ━━ THE TWIN BROTHER’S DECISION

"SO THAT'S THE TEA?"

You nodded dejectedly and raised the Tuna Mayo Onigiri in the direction of your mouth. You bit into the delicious rice snack, humming in delight as the saucy and sweet flavors of tuna cheered you up just for a slight bit. "They said that a girl my age shouldn't be living with her parents and should finally get a guy instead of drawing an imaginary one. You know that they're old school, Mai." You said, mouth full of rice bits and tuna.

The female ran her fingers through her short bright red hair. "Well, you are 25 now, and you haven't got a boyfriend since middle school," She propped her elbow on top of the round wooden table, resting her chin on her palm. "But they should've told you beforehand, right? How are you supposed to look for a residence in a short span of time?" She asked and watched you devour the onigiri meal with such ease. Her black-colored eyes held an uncertain expression as Mai was concerned for her colleague and friend.

After hearing the unfortunate news directly from your loving parents, your mind had to process the sudden information for two solid minutes. The first person you thought of to call is your closest friend, Mai, your roommate back at art school and a mangaka in the shounen industry. Although the two genres have completely different backgrounds, you two are stuck together like peas in a pod through the grace and glory of fawning over 2d men.

Ain't that great?

"They said I could stay back for two weeks until I could find a place to move in. I still have nine days to move out. And as for the residence part..."

You rummaged through the leather bag slung over your shoulder and took out a creased brochure of a newly built apartment based in the heart of east Osaka with its breathtaking cherry blossom conifers and pious shrines. The leaflet's minimalistic design delineated the idiosyncratic architectural structure of the tall building on the front page. Anybody could tell that this jointly owned establishment may settle for tenants with stable incomes.

For someone who changed the BL archives with her plot-driven works, Y/N could provide the fees to rent a homey room on the clabber-plastered apartment complex.

Mai shifted on her seat and studied the brochure on the table with interest— crossing her legs and leaning her torso forward to get a full view of the given pamphlet. "The building does seem promising. You could even check out your works in the Manga Shops at the city." She remarked as her eyes skimmed through the brochure, taking note of the facilities and rooms for the future tenants.

"Right? I already checked the place out yesterday, and coincidentally, the studio office is close by," The H/C-haired female pushed back the tiny strands of baby hair tickling her forehead as it was annoying her smooth skin. "They even allow pets. The apartment buildings I visited mostly don't allow pets, and the others who do, they have weird-ass tenants whom I don't really wanna be neighbors with." She ended, scratching the back of her neck.

"Soooooo, that's the apartment you're planning to move in."

You nodded your head, "I prepared the papers and told my parents about it. Maybe you can help me move my things out?" You suggested to your friend as your leg overlapped with the other, biting into another piece of onigiri from the porcelain plate.

Tilting her head to the side, Mai let out a light scoff from the BL mangaka's proposition as she gestured her hand downwards. "I'm offended, Y/N! Of course, I'll help you." She expressed her whimsical disbelief through her words. "I thought we were best of friends." The young lady teased.

"After all those collab fan arts of the Akatsuki, why wouldn't we be at this point?" You joked; however, the shinobi anime reference wasn't technically a gag as you both had a history of fangirling over the smexy criminal organization— even if you both had a peculiar taste in men. "By the way, why did you choose this place? Isn't this sort of far away from your workplace?" You questioned the red-haired female, a bit curious on why she decided to meet up with you in this Onigiri Restaurant.

Mai's lips turned up into a smirk as she motioned her finger for you to move closer. "My assistants and I decided to eat here after a hard day's work. By the time we were all seated, our eyes got blessed when the restaurant's owner catered to our table!" She whispered with excitement dipped on her tongue.

"Oh boy, if you had seen him, you would've gotten the inspiration to make a character from his well-sculpted face."

You raised a brow and let out a snortle, "We went here because a hot owner caught your attention? I should've gone with you then." You played along and couldn't help but laugh at your friend's reason for dining out a distance away from her studio office.

Like middle schoolers, you both giggled as Mai continued her story of the dashing Onigiri restaurant owner with her witty play of words. You never had any interest in dating; however, you still bid no mind to your friend's fawning over pretty men who would unlikely pay attention to either of them.

"That owner you're talking about might not visit his restaurant, Mai."

"I know, silly! But I do wonder what that work of art does outside his work."

Osamu is a very patient man. May it be through his responsibility of running an Onigiri business, or may it be just a simple waiting in line at the subway station of Tokyo, the male wouldn't lose his temper nor be frustrated over such trivial things.

But when his exhausted figure slugged inside the comforts of his home and found the living room all trashed with empty bottles of energy drinks and bags of chips, Osamu was finally at his breaking point.

"Atsumu, you mother-fucker... COME DOWNSTAIRS THIS INSTANT!" He burst out, calling out his twin brother's name as he began picking up the trashes scattered throughout his coffee table and his lawson couch. His ears caught the sound of loud footsteps thumping on the wooden-tiled floor as he could immediately tell that it was a certain someone who came down the stairs.

A bed of ruffled blonde hair popped out of the stairway as a certain setter casually jumps into the scene of the untidy crime, walking towards the other twin with open arms.

"Welcome home, Samu! Did your staff make a mistake in the newly-opened shop back at Shinjuku? You look a bit frustrated right now-"

Atsumu stopped himself once he noticed his twin brother standing over the mess he forgot to clean up. His arms dropped to the side while his chocolate eyes shifted over to Osamu's annoyed expression, "Okay. This time, I absolutely forgot to clean up." The male tried to explain himself.

The quiet one of the two shook his head in disapproval, sighing out and pinching the bridge of his nose to calm his fiery nerves. "I found this apartment, Tsumu. I think it's best for the both of us if you could finally get your own place." He stated, hearing the slight choke coming from his brother's throat.

"WHAT?! What made you think that this would be the best for the both of us, Samu?" Atsumu protested, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion as to why his brother would suggest that sort of idea.

Osamu raised his hand and lifted three of his fingers to his twin's eye level. "First, you sometimes disrupt my sleep whenever you'd bring your flings at home," He stated and didn't bother to let the other speak their mind about the issue at hand as he continued his statement of reasons. "Second, you'd sometimes forget to do your lists of chores and often lie that you didn't do them because you were tired from training." He paused for a moment, thinking of a third reason until it clicked in the back of his mind.

"Lastly, you're a 23 professional athlete, who makes a lot of money than what I usually make, and yet, you're living with your twin brother."

Atsumu stared at Osamu as he crossed his arms, "So? You'll kick me out if I don't move out of your place?" He derided, his voice mostly holding a hint of teasing as he knew his brother wouldn't act so rashly over those reasons.

Oh, was the male so wrong.

"Yes, Tsumu. I'm kicking you out."

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Phobia (one-shot)

Pairing: OC (female character) x Bang Chan (SKZ)

Warnings: suggestions of smut, violence, language, mentions of blood and gore

Genre: Mafia AU; Marriage AU

Word Count: 4K

Summary: He found her when she was nothing - disgraced by her family and cast aside as an outsider. Yet, Chan made her feel wanted for the first time in her life, in more ways than one, which leads to countless nights of passionate love...until their worst fears come to fruition. 

A/N: Chan, you will always be a perfect husband to me. Thank you for coming to my short Ted Talk.

This time when he came home, he was covered in blood...

I almost broke down in the foyer at the sight of him, but Chan was quick to reassure me, shaking me by the shoulders as he patiently explained that it wasn’t his blood - there was a shooting at their exchange, but neither Chan nor his men had been injured. Of course, it doesn’t stop me from leading him upstairs, drawing a warm bath in our shared en-suite while fussing over the state of Chan’s suit, or what was left of it. His pale skin was apparent behind the black fabric of his dress pants, and there were long tears in his shirt. 

Needless to say, I threw all of those blood-stained clothes away before urging him into the bathtub, carefully kneeling down onto my knees as I started dragging a soft cloth over his skin. Chan moaned in delight, throwing back his head against the shower tiles while he allowed me to fuss over him - to reassure myself that he was okay, and that the horrific image of my husband standing in front of me drenched in blood was nothing more than a terrible memory.

I softly ran my fingers through his blond-hair, working through the tangles while being mindful of his eyes, using my hand to move his head back when I used a pitcher to wash the shampoo out of his delicate curls. “Hey,” Chan said, voice hoarse from overuse as he watched me drag his hand out of the bath water, working on the dirt and grim under his fingernails. 

I paused when I fingered across his wedding band. “Don’t come home like that ever again.”

I could feel Chan looking at me, and there was a lot of regret in his eyes, but I didn’t feel any remorse over my sharp tone. “I’m sorry, babygirl,” he said. “They were shooting at Felix and I-”

“You don’t have to justify your work to me,” I interrupted him. “I know the risks, but I never want to see something like that when I’ve been waiting for you.”

Chan nodded, and I shifted back when he sat up in the bathtub, allowing sensual rivulets of water to climb down the toned expanse of his chest and stomach. Meanwhile, I used the towel holder to help myself stand up, grabbing a spare towel for Chan, and trying to ignore how red the water remained after my husband had climbed out to wrap the towel around his waist.

Afterward, I allowed Chan some privacy in the bathroom while I returned to our bedroom, crawling into bed while remaining mindful of my stomach - the evidence of life bloating the skin. I took a deep breath, smoothing my hands along the exposed flesh, and I knew that it was bad to feel any kind of stress while I was pregnant. Unfortunately, my husband’s chosen line of work never made things easier.

Eventually, Chan joined me on the bed, leaving the towel hanging loosely from his hips while he shot me a concerned glance. “Are you feeling okay?” he asked, and his eyes immediately dropped.

“I’ll tell you in the morning,” I said, and I looked over at him as Chan slid one hand around my waist, holding me and our unborn child protectively.

“You’re right about everything, baby girl,” he said. “I’ll never scare you like that again.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I warned him, but Chan shook his head sternly, keeping me close before landing a soft kiss to the edge of my lips.

“I have a lot to clean-up tomorrow,” he said. “Work might take awhile.”

I sighed in return, looking up at the ceiling. “Wake me up before you go.”

Past

When Chan and I first met, his ledger wasn’t nearly as red. He actually served my family, taking on small cases with his friends, Jisung and Changbin, in service to my father. However, he had started to garner a reputation for being a quick hand and a good shot when it came to using guns, and Jisung and Changbin provided the perfect support for their little unit.

My father considered Chan to be one of his favorite apprentices, and he even approved of my early relationship with Chan. Despite my tendency to rebel against my father’s chosen favorites, I couldn’t resist Chan’s dark persona and contagious personality. He could probably talk the wealthiest man into giving away half of his fortune once he listened to Chan’s cunning words. 

On our first date, he showed me how to count cards in the Casino that my father owned, and after only three weeks of dating, he fucked me so hard in the backseat of his car that I saw stars after almost passing out from the pleasure.

We technically met in my father’s office because I had stormed in on one of their meetings unannounced, ready to confront my father because he had forced my youngest brother, Jeongin, to attend some lousy military school. Jeongin had cried for the entirety of the days leading up to his unwanted departure, and I had stood outside on the porch fuming as he was taken away from me.

But my father was really good at screwing over the members of his family, and I had finally had enough of his intervention. However, I also remembered hesitating when I saw Chan standing next to my father’s desk, freshly dyed hair glowing under the Chandelier. “Oh, it’s you,” my father grumbled. “What the hell do you want?”

“Nothing,” I said in return, maintaining eye-contact with Chan as I retreated from the office. 

Later that day, I asked my mother about Chan, and she told me that she didn’t know much about him, other than the fact that his parents had been killed in a raid - probably from my father’s doing - and he was serving our family. “Your father seems to like him,” my mother said, and it was only one of the very few times in her life that she had told the truth. 

Thereafter, I developed an unfavorable opinion of Chan since my father liked him, but it didn’t take Chan very long to change my mind and prove me wrong. He wasn’t blindly loyal to the man who destroyed his family - he was cold and methodical, and he told me how he planned to eventually break away from my father and form his own business with Jisung and Changbin. He spoke so passionately that it was hard not to fall in love with the burning look in his dark eyes. 

From then on, we became close to one another, sharing our deepest fears and desires, and we weren’t afraid to demonstrate our affection for one another. I was actually happy for once, which meant that something had to go wrong in my life. And it turned out that one of my father’s business partners was threatening our family because we owed them a lot of money, and my father planned to pay his debt by doing something rather despicable: selling me into their service.

It was humiliating, and I knew exactly what I would become working for a family that was notorious for its influence in the adult entertainment industry. I was enraged that my family would sentence me to that kind of life, but I wasn’t nearly as upset as Chan. We had been together for six months, and Chan had already started to include me in his future plans...the exchange was unacceptable.

So, on the night when my family planned to sell me to their rivals, Chan and I drove away in one of the cars that we stole from my father, bringing along Jisung and Changbin who fired off rounds of bullets from the windows as we escaped into the solitude of the night. Consequently, my family disowned me, snatching my last name and removing me from the family tree. But it never concerned me, especially when Chan offered me his last name instead, vowing his loyalty by exchanging intimate vows and marrying me on a warm, spring afternoon. When he fucked me that same night, he whispered sweet little nothings that contradicted the filthy way that his hips moved against mine, driving his cock deep inside.

After that, the two of us were inseparable - a dynamic duo that was ready to take the underground mafia world by storm...

Present

Before the sun had completely risen, Chan was stumbling out of bed with exhaustion written across his wearied countenance. I watched him move around the room, admiring the hard planes of his back as he dressed himself in the usual combination of black dress pants and a white button-up shirt. Chan claimed that it was important to look his best when it involved meeting with our rivals.

I closed my eyes when he neared my bedside, and I could feel him leaning down to press soft kisses to my forehead, fingers trailing across my stomach before he was leaving our bedroom with a heavy sigh. I swallowed hard against a sudden wave of emotions, remembering his appearance from the previous night, and the same restless anxiety managed to bleed its way around my heart.

Graciously, I managed to eventually fall back asleep, but it was only for a few hours because I was brought back to reality by the sound of the fire alarm blaring throughout the house. I groaned in complaint, throwing off the sheets before grabbing my dress robes and trudging downstairs. 

As I grew closer to the commotion, I could hear two men loudly arguing from one of the adjoining rooms, attempting to be heard over the sound of the annoying alarm. When I walked into the kitchen, I wrinkled my nose at the burning smell from the stove, waving my hand to clear the smoke. And standing at the center of the drama was Chan’s younger brother, Felix, as he engaged in a heated argument with my brother, Jeongin. “It’s your fault!” I heard Felix say. “You can’t cook bacon like that!”

“I told you to watch the pan!” Jeongin retaliated, and I rolled my eyes at their immature behavior.

“Hey!” I yelled, forcing both of them to pause. “Can you seriously not do this right now?”

Felix was the first to notice me, pointing an accusing finger at Jeongin. “Hey, he started it!”

I closed my eyes. “How old are you again?”

It was a surprise to me that they had both managed to live with us this long without engaging in more than just verbal altercations. After Chan and I rescued Jeongin from his cruel military academy, my husband invited him to join the organization. At first, I was hesitant of the decision, but Chan never invited Jeongin out on missions with them. Instead, he and Felix did most of the reconnaissance work from behind the scenes, and Jeongin was remarkably good with computers. Maybe he wasn’t on par with Felix’s hacking skills, but my younger brother continued to expand his skill set because she was determined to be the best.

Unfortunately, working in close proximity to one another on a regular basis inevitably led to numerous arguments. They were both strong-willed and stubborn, and neither Jeongin nor Felix was capable of flexibility, especially when it meant admitting that they were wrong. So, they often argued over trivial things, and I was usually left around to mend their bruised egos.

But a cooking dispute? At this hour? I shook my head because I didn’t have the patience to deal with them. “Leave the pan and go upstairs. I’ll take care of everything.”

Felix and Jeongin shot each other nasty glares as they obeyed, and I waited until they were gone before opening the windows in the kitchen and resetting the fire alarm. Finally, I turned my attention to the mess on the stove, cleaning with an exaggerated sigh. It was moments like this that made me long for the days when I used to accompany Chan on some of his missions...

Past

Chan only ever brought me along with him when he felt that a situation was incapable of turning violent, and he liked having me around to distract lesser men as he talked them into agreeing with anything that he said. I, of course, liked being helpful to my husband, and I always played my part well. For example, dressing in low-cut affairs that tended to produce insatiable responses from my husband who loved to drag me into his lap.

It made me feel powerful, arching my back as Chan ran one of his hands down my waist. “Look at your tits,” Chan said, stroking his fingers across the swell of my breasts. “Gorgeous.”

I beamed at his compliment, allowing him to handle as he liked while Chan turned to finally address the impatient man sitting across from us. “Are you ready?”

“I’ve been waiting all night,” the man said with a challenging stare.

“My apologies,” Chan smirked. “I’ve been rather busy.”

“I can see that,” the man said, but his smirk suggested that he wasn’t entirely understanding of Chan’s delayed commitment. Apparently, Chan was trying to sign some kind of arms deal with him, and my husband was very greedy when it came to our money. 

“I have my price listed,” Chan said, shoving the contract at the other man. “You can sign at the bottom.”

“Isn’t this a bit cheap?” the man asked. “The cost of labor alone is barely covered by your...generous offering.”

“It’s my final compromise,” Chan said, feigning boredom as he tugged at the neckline of my dress. “What do you say?”

“How about one night with your whore?” the man asked, leaning in across the table to reveal two rows of slimy teeth.

Immediately, I could feel the way that Chan tensed from underneath me, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at the man. “I hope you’re not referring to my wife.”

The man chuckled. “What difference does it make?”

Chan was quiet for a moment, and I saw a myriad of emotions reflected in his narrowed eyes. “Baby girl,” he eventually said while looking at me. “Why don’t you go get us some drinks?”

I nodded my head, scrambling to find my footing as I left the comfort of Chan’s lap to retrace my steps to the bar at the opposite end of the club. The bartender recognized me, sliding two beers in my direction with a smile before sending me on my way.

However, I suddenly paused when I started to approach our table, realizing that Chan had wanted to keep me away for a valid reason. He had also drawn a crowd of onlookers who watched as my husband smashed our target’s face into a pile of broken glass on the table. There was already so much blood, and Chan’s eyes were wild with his rage. He was also flanked by Jisung and Changbin whose fingers wrapped around the handles of their weapons. “You learned a lesson tonight, didn’t you?” Chan growled, grabbing the man by his collar to toss him into the floor. I winced when Chan’s heeled boot pressed down against the man’s throat, and his hands immediately wrapped themselves around my husband’s leg as he choked. 

There was every reason to feel horrified, watching my husband handle a man with so much violence while surrounded by blood and gore. But I didn’t feel scared. Instead, I smiled as I stood aside with our drinks, watching the action unfold with greedy eyes.

Present

It was late, and I could feel myself growing anxious. I passed the time by pacing the floor, resisting the urge to run into the other room and demand an update from Jeongin and Felix. They were playing a pivotal role in tonight’s mission, and they didn’t need my distraction.

But I could tell that something was wrong. The clock was ticking away loudly in the background, and every instinct was screaming at me to call my husband and demand his whereabouts. “Come on,” I muttered, hugging my arms around my stomach as I was prone to do these days.

Sleep wasn’t an option. Becaus my mind was a chaotic mess of restless thoughts and horrible scenarios flashing across my eyes. What if something bad happened to Chan?

I couldn’t stand it anymore. He had always promised me that he would come home, but it felt shallow on nights like this. Because life never promised any guarantees, especially when you put yourself in harms way on a regular basis.

I was approaching my wits end when Jeongin burst into my room with wide eyes. “What is it?” I snapped at him, allowing my frustration to boil over like a steaming kettle.

“We have to go to the hospital,” Jeongin said, and he somehow managed to catch me before I collapsed in the floor.

Past

But I suddenly couldn’t breathe, looking down at the seemingly mundane object in my hand. It was forecasting a fate that neither Chan nor myself had planned for our future. Something that could be dangerous in our world, and I already feared for my unborn child’s life.

However, it wasn’t something that I could hide - a secret to hold onto because it wouldn’t bear any consequences. This changed everything, and I had no idea how to tell Chan when I saw him later that evening. We had plans to have dinner together, and he looked divine as always, dressed impeccably with his hair slicked back, and perhaps to anyone else he would appear perfectly put together. But I knew better than most.

“How was work?” I asked, staring down at my dinner plate because I had lost my appetite.

“It was fine,” Chan said, shoveling another spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth like it was his last meal on Earth. “What did you do while I was gone?”

“Not much,” I said, hesitating as I looked down at the pregnancy test in my lap. “Felix kept me entertained.”

“As long as he’s staying out of trouble,” Chan said, reclining back in his chair as he looked at me from over the table. “You look beautiful tonight.”

“Thank you,” I said, and my tone was quiet and uncertain, but Chan must’ve had a billion other thoughts on his mind because he didn’t comment on my mood.

“I’m not busy tomorrow,” Chan said. “We can do whatever you want.”

It made my heart swell with affection to hear him say that since I knew that he was either lying or exaggerating. Because Chan never had any free time. “Channie,” I started, “I have something to tell you.”

Chan adjusted the sleeves of his shirt, revealing his forearms. “What is it?”

I bit my tongue, wrapping my fingers around the pregnancy test as I carefully brought it onto the table. There were so many ways that I could tell him, but nothing seemed to sound correct inside my head, and I was fumbling with an explanation. However, when I met Chan’s sweet smile and kind eyes, I managed to latch onto an inkling of confidence, finding my voice the longer we continued to look at one another. “I’m pregnant,” I whispered to Chan, watching him carefully as he listened.

His eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and I would’ve never noticed if I wasn’t paying such close attention. But then he noticed the test I had brought resting on top of the table. “It was positive,” he said, almost like an observation.

“Yeah,” I said with a nod, waiting with bated breath as he folded his arms across his chest - and it was a vulnerable position.

Eventually, Chan stood up from the table, and I shivered when I thought that he might leave the room, but he instead came to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. “We’ll make it work, baby girl,” he said, holding me like I was something fragile that he needed to protect. There were tears in my eyes before I could hold them back, and Chan was kneeling on the floor and looking at me with so much love. “I’m gonna give you the world,” he promised, and it was a solemn declaration, sealed with a kiss to my shirt-covered stomach.

Present

Time was a social construct, and we can feel its effects most profoundly in the moments when it feels like it might run out before we can do anything to stop the inevitable. In desperation, we struggle to breach the surface of the water and take a much-needed deep breath - but there’s only so much that we can do for the things beyond our control. Yet, we still try to remedy them, and I found myself pacing anxiously outside of his hospital room, ignoring the suggestions from his other members to relax and sit down. Because my mind was incapable of settling down, and I could only chant the words, he can’t die, as they repeated over and over again inside my head, remembering how the doctor looked at me when I confronted him.

“We’ll do the best we can,” the doctor had told me, but it wasn’t good enough.

I was on the edge of total self-destruction, and maybe it was the first time that I finally realized just how affected I would be without Chan. Because the world would be so cold without him next to my side, and I couldn’t bear the thought of facing that oblivion of darkness.

He had to keep living for me...

“Mrs. Bang,” a nurse said, pulling my attention to the smiling woman approaching me. “You can see him now.”

I sniffled and nodded, following the nurse as she led me to Chan’s room, feeling my heart grow lighter with every step in the right direction. Until I was confronted with Chan’s familiar presence, watching me from his hospital bed, and I was on cloud nine as I rushed to him. Wrapping my arms around him as I cried softly into his shoulder. “Channie,” I whimpered, pulling back to press my lips against his for the necessary reassurance of his touch.

“I’m okay,” he said. “Everything’s fine.”

I shook my head because the fear was still there - lingering at the edges of my subconscious, acting as a reminder of the utter dread that I had experienced when Jeongin first told me that Chan was somewhere I never wanted to see him. “I thought you were gone,” I whispered, grabbing his hands to ground myself in this reality with Chan, surviving the impossible for another day. “This is my worst fear, Chan,” I continued. “That you won’t come home, and our kid will grow up without their father.”

Chan sighed, and I noticed that his eyes were swollen around the rims, and there were unshed tears waiting to fall. “I’m sorry,” he said. 

“It can’t happen again,” I told him sternly, hoping I looked more fierce than I felt on the inside. Because Chan needed to be explicitly told these things in the only way that he would understand.

“I’ll always do my best for you,” he said, and I realized that his tone was thick with emotion and the unsaid words between us that we were both still too afraid to vocalize.

“I love you, Chan,” I said. “I know you like the work that you do, but I think it might be time to take on less responsibilities.”

“You’re right,” he said, looking up at me with a sad smile. “I’ll do anything to make you happy.”

“I just need you,” I said, allowing him to pull me onto the bed next to him, and we both savored the silence humming throughout the room and the familiar presence of the person who we needed more than anything else in this cruel world. 

[jenomark]

SEPTEMBER

➔Pairing: Doyoung x Reader (Female) | Jaehyun x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: -.- ➔Genre: Plot (ft. smut, romance, angst, fluff etc.) ➔Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Arguments, Sexual imagery ➔Word count: 4,408

➔Summary: You are dating handsome and lovable Jaehyun. You stay at his apartment all of the time, along with his roommate Doyoung. Doyoung has feelings for you, which he doesn’t quite understand. What begins as an innocent crush changes the lives of all three people over the course of seven months.

P1: AUGUST

  The bathroom was one of the few places Doyoung felt like he could relax. Once the door closed, he didn’t have to answer phone calls, didn’t have to keep his head too high from his shoulders, a puppet on strings ready to do a dance for the people around him. The only thing he needed to worry about was whether he had good reading material for the toilet, or if his phone was fully charged enough to play the music that sometimes kept him going. When he was in the bathroom, Jaehyun knew to give him his space, and all felt right in his world.

  As soon as Doyoung let the door close with a soft click, his shoulders began to sink a little. He breathed a sigh of relief and hung his towel on the metal bar attached to the wall. The space on the bar was getting a little too crowded with three towels, but he ignored it. He wiggled his toes on the plush carpet placed in front of the bathtub and did a little jig all the way to the mirror above the sink, where he raised his eyebrows at his reflection.

“Handsome guy,” he said.

  Doyoung smoothed the sides of his hair and smoldered at the mirror. Any foolish feeling couldn’t reach him when he was feeling himself. He turned around to face the tiled wall before whipping back to his reflection, fingers making finger gun motions, and lips pursed. 

“Sexy.” he growled.

  Doyoung removed his shirt and checked his body for lumps and bumps. His pale skin was smooth and unmarked. He brushed his fingers against his erect nipples and moved them over the ridges of his stomach. The abs were courtesy of his new workout regimen from the summer, but the confidence was courtesy of the new girl he’d been dating since the tail end of August. He cracked his neck and looked at the body that couldn’t wait to be touched by her.

  It was easy to get lost in the daydream when he was alone. He replayed their dates from the last few weeks in his head. She seemed genuinely interested in what he had to say, her small lips always parted like she was getting ready to comment on all of his stories with praise. She was pretty, calm, and more interesting than other women he’d met on dating apps. He knew the intimacy part would follow eventually, but his impatience was running thin. There was only so many times he could imagine her here with him, bent over the tub to turn the water on, her lips begging him for the shower sex he thought would blow his mind. If Jaehyun had sex in the shower, so would he.

  Doyoung removed his bottoms until he was naked. He never thought he was really that handsome, never meant the mantras he would speak to himself when no one could hear him. They helped.  He began to feel shy standing in the fluorescent lighting, so he looked away from his reflection and focused on the music. Mellow vibes that would soothe him played around the bathroom. He closed his eyes and felt the notes breathing new life into him. He sang a little bit, his voice sounding beautiful. He never told anyone he could sing, and he never sang in front of anyone ever. Mostly because he was scared they wouldn’t take him seriously if they knew. Doyoung’s job was to be intelligent and available at the office, not to dream about standing on a stage, with passion falling from his fingertips every time he touched a keyboard. 

 Peeling back the shower curtain, he kept himself light on his toes. An impromptu naked dance party isn’t really what he needed, but his legs were itching to dance. With his luck, he would trip over the porcelain and fall into the shower curtain, breaking a bone or two in the process. Doyoung stopped the beginning shake of his knees and started the water. He felt good, almost too good. When things felt too good, it worried him. 

  Stepping in, the spray was perfect. Not too cold, not too warm. He washed his face roughly and wet his hair. He thought of something he wanted to bring up to Jaehyun. He imagined the conversation he would have in his head, reciting all the right words that would help him come across as assertive and authoritative. He wondered if everyone had imaginary conversations with themselves in the shower.

“I need to talk to you,” Doyoung said quietly, breathing life into his imaginary conversation. “It’s important. No, I’m not angry with you. I’m an adult, and adults talk about their feelings. We’re friends, Jaehyun. Aren’t we?”

  Doyoung rubbed the water from his eyes and looked for his body wash. Usually, it sat at the edge of the tub in a sleek black bottle. He looked at all corners of the shower and tried to remember if he had used it up. Doyoung pulled back the shower curtain and looked in the bathroom trash to see his body wash face down in the basket, its sides squeezed to death. He cursed your name, because you were the only person who could have used it.

 You’re being judgemental, Doyoung, he thought to himself. It could have been Jaehyun.

  Doyoung looked down at his temporary body wash options. There was nothing but floral washes in pink bottles that belonged to you. He picked one up, opening the lid to smell it. Your smell was everywhere, so Doyoung quickly shut the bottle and set it back down. He was tired of the scent, tired of the way it walked him across his apartment as if he couldn’t be left on his own. He closed his eyes and tried to breathe until the smell was all gone. 

“No,” he said. “We’re not doing this.”

  But there was no other choice. He picked up the bottle again, poured some onto his sponge and wiped himself down with it. As he worked each part of his body, he could feel himself getting aroused. Typical. He put his hand against the shower wall and placed his forehead against it. It had been a month since you gave him That Look. He had finally gotten around to forgetting it and letting you go. It was inappropriate for him to have any feelings at all about his roommate's girlfriend, and it was definitely inappropriate for him to believe you looked at him for one sweet moment, just as he had looked at you. 

 Doyoung turned away from the shower spray so that he wouldn’t have to face any of your toiletries. He stared at the wall, trying to clear his mind until it was blank. He tried not to imagine you pressed up against the wet, slippery tile, but he couldn’t help it. It was like you were right in front of him, your hair in a messy bun, the tips of the hair in front of your face wet and sticking to your cheek. 

“Do you want me?” imaginary you asked. “Do you want me against this wall? Maybe bent over the sink? Just be honest with me, Doyoung. Where do you want me most?”

  Doyoung looked down at the water hitting his feet. When he looked back up, you were patiently waiting for an answer. You were naked, but he wouldn’t look at you, out of respect.

“No,” he said. “I’d just like to wash your hair. I’d like you to hug me underneath the water, your hands around my middle, and your head against my back.”

  Doyoung turned around once again. His imagination was really making him seem crazy. He rinsed his body and let the water hit the top of his head and cascade down his face. The heat felt nice on his skin. His bones were aching from work, but they seemed to ease for a moment as he stood underneath the spray. Then, as if a sudden switch went off that controlled his life, the water started turning freezing cold.

“Ahhhh,” Doyoung screamed, moving to the far end of the shower, his own very real body pressed up against the tile. “Turn the water off! Turn it off!”

  He was reacting like a baby, he knew, but Doyoung hated the cold. He tried reaching to turn the water off but he couldn’t do it. Instead, he yanked the curtain open and stepped onto the rug, his soaking wet body dripping over everything. The song ended, the next song taking forever to start. As he pulled the towel around his waist, he could begin to feel his anger bubbling up and over. Jaehyun knew not to run the water, which means there was only one culprit: You.

  Feeling like it was too late to calm himself down, he swung the bathroom door open. The handle was slippery wet from his fingers. He ignored the soggy footprints he left on the floor as he trudged forward, his eyes darting around the room to find your eyes. It didn’t take long for him to find you, because as soon as Doyoung looked up, you were there, with your hand on the sink nozzle and your eyes glaring at him.

“How much longer are you going to be?” you asked. “I have a job interview, and I need the shower. I told you a few days ago I needed the shower at this specific time. Do you care about other people, or do you only care about yourself?”

  Doyoung stood in the middle of the floor, all words leaving him. He was so prepared in the shower, but being in front of someone always made the right words escape him. He could feel himself about to blow, and he tried to take real breaths, but the way you nonchalantly stared at him pissed him off. You were right and he was wrong. You turned the sink off and crossed your arms against your chest. He felt like he was being scolded by his teacher, and in a way he didn’t like, it was kind of turning him on.

“Where is Jaehyun?” Doyoung asked.

You shrugged. “Where are your clothes?”

 As if realizing he was naked and wet in front of you for the first time, Doyoung looked down at his body. He was holding the ends of the towel with his left fist, gripping it as if his life depended on it. 

“Don’t worry,” you said. “I’m not looking at your body, Do-ie.”

“I told you not to call me that,” Doyoung said. “I’m not a child.”

“And I told you I needed the shower today,” you said. “I thought we had an agreement.”

“This is my apartment!” Doyoung said, his voice sounding very much like a child’s. 

  He began to feel self-conscious about his body. But you didn’t look at him, you only looked at his eyes. You had uncrossed your arms and relaxed your body, so he did the same. For a moment, Doyoung thought you were going to wave the peace flag and apologize, but in real life, things could never be perfect.

“So you keep telling me,” you said. “Every day. I’m starting to think you don’t want me here.”

“All of us need to have a talk,” Doyoung said. “And soon. You’re always here. Don’t you have a home? Friends? Is that why you’re always here? No one else will have you. You’re using up my stuff. I don’t like my stuff being touched. I liked that body wash you didn’t ask before you used. I feel like you’ve overstayed your welcome here. You’re right. I don’t want you here.”

  Without waiting for a clever retort, Doyoung turned around and stalked back to the bathroom. He slammed the bathroom door behind him and leaned against it to catch his breath. When he heard the front door slam, he should have relaxed, but he couldn’t help feeling terrible about what he said. 

  Around midnight, Doyoung was startled awake. His bedroom light was on, and Jaehyun was standing in the doorway. His suit was crumpled, his eyes red-rimmed, and there was an absent look in his eyes. He’d been working hard at the office lately, but there was more to it than that. His friend was trying his hardest to be a good boyfriend, and was really showing up when you needed him. Though it made him exhausted 24/7, Doyoung could also see improvements in Jaehyun’s attitude in just a short month. He was so far removed from the man that wanted to break up with you. Doyoung knew he should be happy for Jaehyun, but there were strange feelings keeping him from being completely happy, and he was sure Jaehyun could feel them.

   Doyoung leaned up on his elbows. Before he could ask if Jaehyun was okay, Jaehyun shoved his phone in Doyoung’s face. Doyoung squinted his eyes and tried to make out the white text against the blue background. The text message was from you. Doyoung’s heart dropped into his stomach as he read it:

He said he didn’t want me there. I don’t know, Jae. Maybe I should stay away for awhile. He hates me.

“What would make her think this?” Jaehyun asked. 

  He took Doyoung’s desk chair and whirled it around. The way Jaehyun sat in it with his legs spread and his elbows on his knees made Doyoung feel like a son getting an “I’m disappointed in you” talk. That was twice in one day people made him feel inferior. 

“I didn’t mean it, “ Doyoung said, “ It was just something I say when I’m angry.”

  Jaehyun leaned back. He looked irritated, a little sad. Doyoung sat up fully and tried to gather his thoughts to form one coherent thought Jaehyun could understand. Jaehyun waited patiently, and for that, he was thankful. There were days Doyoung felt his friends gave him more than he deserved.

Doyoung continued, “We all say things we don’t mean when we’re angry. I felt really sorry about it after I said it. Can you tell her I’m sorry for me?”

“She’s afraid to come back here,” Jaehyun said. “You’re really fucking this up for me, man.”

“I’m fucking it up for you? What about me? I’m the victim.  She turned the water on when I was in the shower,” Doyoung said, his irritation rising to match Jaehyun’s. “And she walks around here like she owns this place. Look, Jaehyun, I know she’s your girl, and I try to respect that, but it’s getting to be too much. Don’t you think so?”

  Doyoung couldn’t keep the edge out of his voice, and Jaehyun noticed. For the last month, things had noticeably turned a little sour between them. Doyoung didn’t know if it was jealousy that fueled the things he would nitpick Jaehyun about, or something else. All Doyoung knew for sure was that he wasn’t the only one driving the wedge deeper. Jaehyun was guilty of a lot, too. After Jaehyun initially confided in Doyoung and got the response that he did, Jaehyun never confided in him again. He wanted his relationship with you to be private, while also bringing it into the public space he and Doyoung shared. Sometimes,  Doyoung wished he would either move out and leave him in peace, or start treating him like he did before, like a friend.

 In fact, you were really the only one Doyoung spoke to in the apartment. You would meet at the kitchen table in the mornings, sipping coffees and pretending to be more interested in what was on your phones. You would tell him about the movies that were on television, and he would say he wasn’t interested until he found himself sitting with you alone, hugging his knees to his chest and trying not to breathe too loudly.  Jaehyun was rarely home because of work, and when he was, all he did was mutter gruff hellos and goodbyes. You made excuses on Jaehyun’s behalf, but it was easy for Doyoung to figure out what was going on. 

 In short, something about their friendship changed, and it was hard not to blame you sometimes. You were the intruder. You were the replacement that Doyoung never asked for, and you were the one who fucked everything up. 

“Just apologize to her when she comes over tomorrow,” Jaehyun said, standing up. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

  Back in the day, Jaehyun would have argued until the sun rose. The new distance felt strange to Doyoung, He didn’t know which Jaehyun to mourn the most, but as he laid back down in his bed, he felt the loss of each one of them.

  When Doyoung came home from work, you were already there waiting at the kitchen table, your hands warming a cup of coffee from a cafe spot around the corner. Jaehyun had given you a spare key to the apartment, one which you had used quite liberally. Feeling too tired to argue about it, he set down his things and trudged across the table towards you.

  Doyoung noticed the way you moved the chair just an inch back as he sat down at the table. Your body language was guarded. Your eyes were looking at everything else except him. When you did finally look at him after he cleared his throat to get your attention, your eyes were stuck to Doyoung’s hand poised right in front of you. 

“Can we call a truce before Jaehyun arrives home?” Doyoung asked. “Or do we need daddy to supervise our issues for us.”

“The only one who gets to call him daddy is me,” you said. “And I’d rather not shake your hand. I don’t now where your hands have been.”

  Doyoung let his hand drop to the table before he slid it back to his body in defeat. If easy is what he wanted, he wasn’t going to get it. He leaned back in the chair and felt like getting up and going straight to bed. He didn’t need to talk anything out. He hardly needed to apologize for something he didn’t do.

“Where is Jaehyun anyway?” Doyoung asked.

“How should I know?”

“He’s your boyfriend.”

“Is he? you asked. “He’s been feeling a little bit like our boyfriend lately.”

Hearing that made Doyoung’s jaw tighten. He felt the bitter laugh leave his mouth before he could stop it. You narrowed your eyes and braced yourself for whatever words Doyoung was sure to fling your way.

“Actually,” Doyoung began. “I’ve been feeling like the boyfriend lately. You spend most of your nights with me. I keep you entertained, fed, and I give you a roof over your head. Jaehyun’s just the guy that gets all the benefits.”

  As soon as the words left his mouth, Doyoung realized how ugly they sounded. He had been so unlike himself lately that he was saying and doing things he never thought possible of him.

“I’m sorry, “Doyoung said. “I’m an idiot.”

 You didn’t speak, just looked down at your hands. Doyoung watched you cautiously, too scared to speak any further. He knew making you angry was his way of pushing you away. If he didn’t like you, he couldn’t love you. Truthfully, he was beginning to feel like the boyfriend. It hurt him to be able to sit with you and watch movies, to laugh when you said something funny, and to spend his mornings with you. Jaehyun was the one who was supposed to fill that role, not him. Doyoung had become too comfortable and too happy in his newfound place, and when things came crashing down, as they so often did, it was his way of trying to end things before they truly began. He just wanted to protect himself before it was too late.

“I didn’t use your body wash,” you said. “And I’m sorry I ran the water. Things have been hard for me lately and-.”

 Before you could go into the sob story that would make him feel awful, he tried to brush off your feelings. He stood up to avoid the conversation. It was a train wreck. All he wanted was to steer clear of the option of having to comfort you, which was something a boyfriend would do. He wasn’t your boyfriend, and never would be.

“I’m tired, “he said. “I’m going to sleep.”

You stood up. “What is your problem? Do you really hate me that much that you can’t listen to me speak? Are you jealous of me? Am I taking too much time away from your precious Jaehyun? I know you listen to us fucking. I know you probably get off on it. ”

Doyoung blushed. “No, I don’t.”

  You both stood on opposite sides of the table, staring each other down. The fight was brewing, but before it could create an imperfect storm, the apartment’s electricity shut off, leaving both of you in complete darkness. Doyoung looked out of the window and saw that, for as far as the eye could see, the city was burnt out. There was a dead silence, the only sound coming from your heavy breathing and the sound of his mind working.

“Oh,” you said. “Doyoung, I’m scared of the dark.”

 At the same time that Doyoung held out his hand to look for you in the darkness, your fingers reached out for him. Touching your hand felt foreign to him, but he took it and pulled you closer. 

“It’s okay, “ he said. “This happens a lot here. The lights will be back on sooner than you think.”

“I’m really freaking out,”  you said. “You don’t understand. I can’t be alone in the dark. I still sleep with a nightlight. ”

 You were gripping his arm so tightly it was beginning to hurt him. He was trying to break free from your death grip and grab candles, but you pulled him back and begged him not to leave you.

“ I won’t leave you, “he said. “But if I don’t grab the candles, we’re going to be stuck not being able to see. Do you want that?”

  Doyoung could feel you shaking. His eyes were beginning to make out the  outline of your body in the darkness. The whites of your eyes were darting all over the place. You stepped forward until you were so close to his body that he could just lean in and kiss you. He was dizzy with the thought.

“Can I come with you?” you asked. “Promise me you won’t leave me alone.”

“I won’t leave you alone.” Doyoung said, his first few words of raw honesty. It was a promise he wanted to keep.

  He held your hand tight and walked across the apartment with you trailing behind him. You called out that you would keep your eyes closed because your vision was playing tricks on you. He tried to reassure you that he would lead you across the floor, telling you where to step so you would avoid tripping over something. Doyoung didn’t want you to fall and hurt yourself.

“We’re almost there,” Doyoung said. “I guess Jaehyun can’t make fun of me for burning so many candles anymore.”

“He never makes fun of you.” you said.

Doyoung laughed. “I don’t believe that. Just step over the threshold...there you go.”

  You both made it into Doyoung’s room. His heart was hammering in his chest two times the normal speed. The last time you were together in his room, you were sleeping in his bed. Also, Doyoung didn’t want to admit that he was terrified of the dark, too. 

  He led you further into his room, his hand never letting yours go. He looked around for the candles and lighter, and when he found them, he lit them up. When the room was filled with a soft orange light, you still didn’t let go of his hand.

“That’s a relief.” you said.

  Then, as if you remembered, you looked down at your hand and let Doyoung’s fingers fall from yours. He could feel the awkwardness crackling in the air between you. You moved away to create space. Doyoung rolled his eyes and started moving around his room. He wanted to remember all the reasons why he was angry and continue the conversation, but all he could think about was how soft your skin was and how you had looked at him like he was your savior.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve been in here,” you said. “Not that I remember much about that night.”

  You started looking on his shelves, poking and prodding things. Doyoung spun around and was getting ready to tell you off until you held up a painting in your hands. It was a painting of a landscape, with rolling green hills and a perfect, sunny blue sky.

“This is really pretty,” you said. “Did you paint it yourself?”

“Yes.”

“Nice,” you said, putting it back. “You have talent”

“Uh...not really.”

“You do,” you said, moving around the room again. “It’s not just the painting  either. Your singing voice is amazing.”

 He wasn’t good at receiving compliments. Doyoung usually blocked them out in favor of self-deprecation, and in doing so, he missed what you had said. His mind started piecing the words together until they formed a sentence.

 Your singing voice is amazing. 

“My...what...is what?” he asked.

“Singing voice,” you said. “I can hear you singing in the shower and in your room and sometimes when you’re cooking. You should sing professionally.”

“I didn’t think anyone noticed.”

“Doyoung, I always notice you,” you said. “Sometimes it’s hard not to.”

 The silence was very loud. You looked at each other in the soft light. Your bodies were shadowy figures on the walls, crawling up the sides until they joined together as one. Doyoung didn’t know what to say, so he kept quiet. And there, in the silence, you gave him That Look, and although his mind tried to convince himself it was just the absence of light distorting your face, he could also feel the static electricity between you. You both lit up the room with it.

  You stepped forward as if to make a move. At the same time, the electricity popped on and Jaehyun arrived through the front door. You stepped back and sighed heavily.  You mouthed the words Thank You before stepping out Doyoung’s room.