#would look for you in every single circle of hell if you went missing

[thesquidgame]

Calm Before the Storm

Hwang Jun-ho x wife!reader

Summary: After your husband's disappearance, he starts to act different.

Warning: Angst, disappearance, gunshot wound, head injury, hospitals, mention of death, marital conflict, mention of divorce, guns

6k words

The worst day of your life happened after one of your husband’s work trips. He said that his team had gotten a lead on what might have happened to his brother and that he had to investigate. That was par for the course, every couple months there would be another potential lead on where your brother-in-law could be, but every couple months Jun-ho would be sorely disappointed. 

This time was different. He said he would be gone for a couple of days, and that he didn’t know if he would be able to get in contact. He left for one day, and then two, then more. His department panicked, apparently, it wasn’t a work trip and one of their detectives went missing. After a week his picture was on the nightly news, and after 10 days you were doing interviews begging for anyone who had any information to step forward. His mother came to sleep at your apartment, and she said she just wanted to help out with her daughter-in-law, but you could hear her sobs in the middle of the night through the thin walls between your bedroom and the guest room. 

At 5 AM, a week after Jun-ho’s disappearance, you got a call. They had found him. He was in a specialized emergency hospital on the outskirts of Seoul, and he was in a coma. You rushed to your car with your mother-in-law and broke speed limits that Jun-ho would never let you break when he was in the car with you. 

The hospital parking lot was nearly empty. The lobby was quiet when you walked in, and the front desk woman almost looked shocked when she saw two women with deep circles under their eyes and hair sticking in every direction. Honestly, you couldn’t care less. She was the receptionist at a hospital, if that was the craziest thing she’d seen she was in for a rude awakening when an actual patient came up to her desk.

She quickly directed you to his hotel room, on the 3rd floor, where his supervisor was already waiting. Time seemed to slow down as you rode the elevator. It couldn’t have taken longer than 20 seconds, but it felt like years. What if he was dying? What if he didn’t wake up? What if he was getting worse? Your thoughts kept racing, and you and Jun-ho’s mother couldn’t share a single word between the two of you between all of the panic going on inside your heads.

The floor was so quiet you could hear the squeak of a nurse’s shoes down the hallway. You should’ve run to your husband's bedside, but you couldn’t. You took one step at a time, terrified of what might await you. His supervisor stepped out the door and closed it. He looked at you with tired eyes. “Mrs. Hwang, Mrs. Park, I’m glad you could make it.”

“How’s my husband?” Formalities could wait. Formalities could go to hell.

He sighed, and your heart skipped several beats. “How is he?!” Jun-ho’s mother yelled. 

“He’s okay, he seems to be mostly stable, but I-” He raised his hand and scratched the back of his head, looking away at the ground, “I gotta be honest. He’s not great. He was shot and fell from a high distance into water. He passed out in the water and the doctors think he breathed in water and fell unconscious. They’re not sure of the extent of brain damage because he hasn’t woken up, but the lack of oxygen to his brain likely caused some sort of impact. There’s more, but they would only tell me the basics because I’m not family.”

You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t think. What if he didn’t wake up? What if he did and he wasn’t the same? Memories of the last night you spent together raced through your head. It had been a long exhausting day, and he somehow knew how terrible it had been. He brought takeout home and made an extra stop to get your favorite dessert from a bakery. He set the food down on the kitchen table and immediately made his way to you on the couch, leaned down, and kissed you until you needed to come up for air. You turned off the tv and sat on the couch for hours, eating and talking and eventually fucking. Right before you went to bed he told you that he was going on the trip tomorrow, and you just smiled and nodded, thinking it was going to be like all the other times.

You pushed past the sergeant and walked into your husband’s room. His bed was separated from an empty one by a curtain. You couldn’t feel your own feet as you walked towards it, and it almost felt like your hand wasn’t moving at all when you pushed past the curtain.

Jun-ho looked like death. There was a tube shoved in his throat and his skin was so pale it looked translucent, the blue of his veins showing through on his arm next to an IV. The circles under his eyes were deep and dark, and he was in a neck brace, with his head bandaged. 

It felt like all the air had been sucked out of your lungs. The second his mother saw him, she collapsed at his side and laid her body over his legs. Her cries were guttural and came from something that must’ve broken inside of her. “My baby, my baby. I lost one son, I’ll die if I lose another.”

You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t cry. You sunk to a chair at his side and reached out for his hand. He was so cold. His skin felt like he had just been taken out of the ocean minutes before, and his heart rate was so slow it felt like it was second between beats.

You didn’t hear the doctor come into the room until he spoke. Jun-ho’s mother looked up and stared at him like he was an angel, but you couldn’t look away from your husband’s unmoving body.

“Mrs. Hwang, can I talk to you about your husband’s condition?” You didn’t move, his mother had to beg the doctor to continue speaking. “He was shot in his left shoulder, luckily the bullet didn’t hit any vital organs, but because of the time between the injury and his arrival at the hospital, he lost a significant amount of blood. We think he hit the water head-first, and the impact caused his neck to break, luckily, there was no spinal cord damage. We induced him into a coma once he reached the hospital, so unfortunately we aren’t able to tell the extent of the damage unless he wakes.”

Your mother and law stood up “Unless? What do you mean by unless?!” she screamed. “My son is not going to die, do you hear me?!” 

You felt broken, Jun-ho had to wake up, he had to. You didn’t care if he couldn’t walk, or speak, but he had to wake up.

You could hear fists banging against the doctor’s chest, but you didn’t turn around. Just kept staring at your husband’s pale face, and pale hands.

The hospital had apparently received a large grant during COVID to expand, and when the pandemic had died down they became designated only for acute emergency cases and recovery care, and many rooms were kept vacant. The staff let you stay in the other bed in his room, and there was a shower attached to the room, designed for patients in long-term recovery and their family members. The hospital had a small cafeteria that made shockingly delicious Korean food, and they delivered the meals to the room three times a day. Before long, you became used to the tired routine of late-night check-ups and tired smiles from the nurses urging you to go home and rest. You were terrified that if you left the hospital Jun-ho would die before you could get back, but you couldn’t tell the nurses that. You just told the nurses that your house was far away and it was more convenient to stay at the hospital as opposed to making the commute or getting a hotel room.

It was three weeks before Jun-ho moved. In that time, you hadn’t left the hospital once. He squeezed your hand while you were holding it, and at first, you thought you imagined it. You called the doctor, and she said she would keep an eye on it, but not to get your hopes up- apparently twitching was normal in coma patients. Several hours later you felt the squeeze again, and when you looked up, you saw Jun-ho’s eyes open the slightest bit. 

It was like a month’s worth of fear and pain cascaded over in a heartbeat, and you collapsed on his chest in broken sobs, staring up at your husband. His mother was there, and she leaned over at him, pleading his name. He stared at you for as long as he could, until his eyes closed again, his eyelids twitching like he wanted them to stay open. Once his eyes closed your hand was still holding his in a tight grip, and you reached open to press the button again.

In the next couple of days, he went in and out of consciousness at increasing intervals. The first moment where you felt like you could breathe again came a week after he first squeezed your hand, when you awoke from sleeping laying on his lap while you sat in the chair to the sound of gagging. You heard his heartbeat increase and saw his throat convulse and his eyes flash open as he fought his breathing tube. 

You immediately pressed the call button for the nurse, and when they took too long you went out into the hallway and screamed for a nurse. There were only a couple of patients on his hall, and they could go screw themselves if they thought their sleep was more important than your husband's choking. The nurse and doctor came running and closed the door on you. Within a couple of minutes the nurse opened the door, and let you step inside. The doctor tried to talk to you, but you couldn’t hear anything she was saying as you walked past her toward your husband’s side.

“Baby,” Jun-ho whispered. His voice was hoarse and broken, and you could feel tears streaming down your face.

“Honey, you’re- you’re here.” You cried more and more, and he painfully reached his arm up to you.

“It’s okay (y/n), I was never going anywhere, I’m here.” You tucked your head into his neck and sobbed into his hospital gown. 

He stroked your hair slowly until his hand rested on the back of your head. You looked up to see that he had fallen back asleep, exhausted from the ordeal of choking on his breathing tube. You pressed a kiss to his cheek, wet from a single tear rolling down his face, and tucked your head back down to fall asleep again.

You woke up to a nurse gently shaking you away, informing you that you had to sleep in the other bed to prevent infection. You wanted to fight her for doing her job, but obliged. You fell back asleep quickly, too tired to stay awake because of the crying you had just finished doing.

“(Y/n).” You awoke to a quiet voice, blinking your eyes because of the bright sunlight streaming through the window. You immediately looked over at Jun-ho to see your fiance with his head turned looking at you.

“Jun-ho.” You stood up, stumbling out of bed in the clothes you had to have been wearing for at least a couple of days before now, and went over to kiss him on the lips, the same way he had the last time you had seen him before he went missing. He reciprocated with more force than you thought someone who hadn’t moved any part of his body in a month could.

“I missed you so much honey, I couldn’t breathe for so long.” He smiled and wiped a tear off of your face. 

“I know baby, but I’m here now, I’m here.” He looked at you with so much love and life in his eyes, exactly what you had been missing for the past month.

“I was so scared Jun-ho, first I couldn’t find you, and then once I did I- I wasn’t sure.” You paused, another tear streaming down your face. “I wasn’t sure you would make it.” You whispered.

“I know (y/n), and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“You- you got shot. You fell from really high into the water far out in the ocean. You have no idea how scared I was.”

His brow furrowed painfully before he suddenly pulled his head back and winced. “Jun-ho, Jun-ho? Are you okay?!”

You frantically pushed the call button and within seconds there was a team of doctors and nurses entering the room. They slowed slightly when they saw the scene in front of them, and quickly determined there was no immediate danger, and quickly began examining him and asking you both questions. Once the rest of the group left, Jun-ho’s main doctor sat in a chair to explain the situation to the both of you.

She explained what the team had seen when they had checked Jun-ho over, and explained the need for another set of scans to ensure there was no serious brain injury. “We also will need to call the police back to the hospital, because of the gunshot wound.”

Jun-ho froze, and his back grew stiff. “Baby, what’s wrong?” You rested your hand in his grip, tightening it around his.

“Nothing’s wrong, just nervous about the tests.” He squeezed your hand back and smiled up at you at your position sitting next to him on the bed. His body remained stiff, and your brow furrowed in confusion. He was likely traumatized and in pain, both physically and mentally.

Once the doctor left, you apprehensively asked him “Honey, I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but… What happened when you were gone, with the fall, and the gunshot wound?”

He looked away from you and glanced out the window. He paused, “I don’t know. I don’t remember what happened.”

You leaned in and squeezed his hand again. “It’s okay if you do, I just want to help you.”

He remained looking out the window, until he looked back at you, something tight across his eyes. “I really don’t know, can we please talk about something else. I’m going to get enough of that from my coworkers later anyways.” He laughed, but the tightness across his face remained the same.

Smiling a similar tight smile, you squeezed his hand back. “Okay. Just, let me know if you remember anything.”

“Now, is there anything I can do to help you?” 

“Jun-ho, I’m not the one who just woke up from a coma, that’s my line!” Jun-ho smiled a real smile, and you copied him, smiling your first genuine smile in weeks.

After the tests, you wheeled Jun-ho in a wheelchair back into his hospital room, where you were greeted by his boss sitting in your usual chair next to his bedside. He stood up to greet you, “Detective! It’s so good to see you awake again!” He bowed to Jun-ho, and your husband nodded his head in return.

“I’m sorry to bother you, but do you think we could do the interview now? Just so we don’t get more in the way of you and your lovely wife.” He smiled, but there was anxiety furrowing his brow. He was clearly using many tactics that you watched Jun-ho explain that the police force used on victims and their families.

Jun-ho smiled back, “of course.” He looked up at you and smiled a similar tight smile towards you. “Honey, do you think you could go and get some coffee from downstairs for us?” 

You nodded, unsure of what to do as you could clearly tell that the coffee run was just an excuse to get you out of the room. “Of course.” There wasn’t anything you could do about it, and confronting your husband about something he is clearly not ready to talk about would certainly not be a solution. “Officer, would you like me to get you anything?”

He waved you off and you hesitantly exited the room to go downstairs.

Due to the emptiness of the hospital, it didn’t take you long to go down to the cafeteria, pick up some coffee for you and Jun-ho, and come back upstairs. When you reached the floor that the room was on, you hesitated, noticing that the door was cracked and the sounds of him and his boss were still quietly filtering out into the hallway.

You debated for a second staying and eavesdropping, but your moral compass won out in the end. Whatever it was, Jun-ho was clearly not ready to tell you. You didn’t want to betray his trust, and eventually, he would share it with you. The two of you had no secrets between you. If there ever was a night when Jun-ho would have to stay later at work, or was suddenly asked to hang out by his friends, he would call you immediately and tell you what was going on and when he would probably be home. Not that you necessarily needed him to, you trusted him, but he insisted that he never wanted you to worry after him. You did the same in turn, even though your job was far less demanding than his and plans came up far less sporadically for you than they did for him.

As you walked away, you heard a sliver of the conversation “hundreds… shot.” It made you pause in your step. You must’ve misheard. Maybe he had said something else. Maybe you were too sleep-deprived and stressed to think clearly. Still, you turned those words around in your head as you sat in a chair in the hallway next to the nurse’s station.

If you hadn’t misheard- if; what would it mean? Did Jun-ho have a brain injury that didn’t turn up on scans that makes him misremember what happened? Or- or was he telling the truth? Your husband wasn’t a liar, he was the perfect detective because of his strict moral compass, so that must mean… That must mean that if there was no brain injury, and if you didn’t mishear, wherever Jun-ho was he had watched hundreds of people die.

You heard a knock on the doorframe, “Mrs. Hwang, we’re done with the interview.” 

You stood up and walked toward the door when the other detective put his hand on your shoulder while his face grimaced. “I hope everything works out well for the two of you, I really do.” With that foreboding line of encouragement, he walked past you and towards the elevator.

When you entered the room, Jun-ho smiled at you. “(Y/n).” You walked towards him and kissed his forehead, handing him the cup of coffee.

Kissing his forehead, you asked, “How did it go? Are you alright?”

Jun-ho’s brow creased, but he smiled back at you still. “It went well, I just told him that I didn’t know anything.”

That didn’t make sense. You had to have been gone for at least 20 minutes, there was no way those 15 minutes were filled with the other detective asking questions that your husband kept saying no to.

“I’ll have to go into the station later on after I’m discharged and give a longer more formal statement, but for now they’ll leave us alone.”

“Great, I’m glad to have you all to myself.” You leaned over and kissed him on the lips again. You trusted him, and whatever it was that he wasn’t telling you, he would open up about soon. 

He didn’t. After another 2 weeks, the hospital was completely sure there were no long-standing effects. Besides having to regularly come in for check-ups and to carefully not hurt the shoulder where he was shot, miraculously there were no other serious effects.

You had finally gone back into the apartment after he woke up, although you weren’t happy about going back when it was lifeless due to Jun-ho’s absence. By the time he was discharged, the apartment was dust-free, and you made sure that everything was the same as it had been when he had first gone missing.

In the past couple of weeks, Jun-ho had been too calm. He was casual about just about everything. He was smiling, and making jokes, like nothing had ever happened. But, underneath it all, you could tell something was different. When you’ve been with someone for so long, had exchanged wedding vows, and slept in the same bed for years, you just knew them. You knew your husband, and something was off about him. He refused to go to sleep in the hospital room with the door open, and every time you came or went he would make you close the door behind you. He insisted that you spent the night in the hotel room with him (not that you were complaining) even when he was far out of the danger zone. On the car ride home from the hospital he would check the mirrors every time he thought you weren’t looking.

There was something completely off about him, he seemed paranoid, and for the first time in your relationship besides his brother’s disappearance- scared. But every time you would ask him what was wrong, he would just smile and say “I’m alright, just adjusting.”

You carried all of your stuff to the apartment, insisting on doing so even though your stubborn husband wanted to carry luggage even with a bullet recently being removed from his shoulder. But, when you left the elevator and were about to go into the apartment, he stopped you by putting his hand out.

“Baby, I just want to get inside. This is heavy.” You complained.

“I know, just- just give me a minute. I want to check something.” He silently turned the key to your small apartment, took off both his shoes, and stepped inside. He pulled up his pant leg slightly and took out a gun that you didn’t even notice was there.

“Jun-ho!”

He turned back to you and put his finger to his lips, shushing you. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

He closed the door behind him, and you stood there shocked. You knew something was wrong, but you didn’t expect him to take out a gun and search your home.

In a couple of minutes, he came back out. “What the hell Jun-ho? What was that!” 

“It was nothing, I’m sorry.” He put the gun back away.

“Why would you search our house? You’ve never done that before. Seriously Jun-ho, what’s going on?” You shouted, exasperated by him saying one thing and acting in a completely opposite way.

“It’s nothing.” He sighed, “I’m sorry (y/n), I’m just scared. It’s been a while since I’ve been out of the hospital, so I’m nervous.” He leaned in and gave you a hug, which you reciprocated. But still, that wasn’t the whole truth.

“I think you should see someone Jun-ho, this isn’t normal.” You said into your husband’s chest.

“(Y/n), I’m fine. I promise.” You leaned your head up and kissed him again.

The first week back was difficult. Jun-ho seemed terrified of just about everything around him. The both of you barely left the house, and when you did his hand held yours in a tight grip.

Your job had given you an extended leave to take care of Jun-ho, but your leave was ending in a few weeks once the two-month mark passed. 

You were laying in bed one night, Jun-ho tracing circles on your shoulder as you spooned after making love. “Jun-ho, I’m worried about you.”

He kissed your shoulder, “what about?” He said casually.

You rolled over to face him. “About everything, you’ve been so scared and stressed. I don’t know what’s going to happen once I go back to work.” 

He propped his head on his hand as he laid on his side, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m starting to feel better. I’m sorry I’ve been so paranoid lately.”

You sighed, “I want you to see someone Jun-ho. I don’t want this to fester and fester.”

He sighed, “I know (y/n), I promise it’ll get better soon. I talked to the chief today, I’ll go back to work next week.”

You shot up in bed, “two weeks? Babe, that isn’t nearly enough time. You still can’t lift anything heavier than a paper clip with your left arm.”

Jun-ho reached back towards you and stroked your arm. “Well good thing I’m right-handed.” He smirked.

Tilting your head, you just looked back at your husband anxiously. “Jun-ho this is serious. You aren’t ready to go back to work.”

“(Y/n), please trust me. This will all be over soon, okay?” He looked at you pleadingly. He didn’t want you to drop it or ignore it, he wanted you to- trust him? There was a secret, but he clearly didn’t want you to know it, and just to wait.

Sighing, you said, “Okay, I’ll wait.” You didn’t know what else to say. You couldn’t make him tell you the truth, and he wanted you to not push it. There was nothing to do. “But I really want you to talk to someone.”

He leaned in to kiss you, and right before he touched your lips, he said “Okay, I will; for you.” Then he closed the distance and kissed you until you needed to come up for air.

Your house was quieter after you both went back to work. When Jun-ho came home from work he would make his way next to you on the couch, lay down, and put his head on your lap. It was nice at first, after so much stress you could simply relax and enjoy each other's company.

Soon after getting home, he would get tired. Sometimes falling asleep on your lap.

After a month of him getting back to work, you were exhausted from the silence. It became oppressive. You grew tired of the same routine, and how your husband never quite grew less paranoid. He became better at hiding it, attaching cameras and extra locks around your house under the guise of burglaries in the building that you had never heard of. He would stand up from his crouch install the locks and wrap his arms around you, kissing you and telling you that he just wanted you to be safe.

Before his accident, he would wake up every morning and make breakfast for the both of you, insisting that it was the most important meal of the day. After the accident, he started to make lunch as well, and whenever you suggested that you go out for dinner, he smiled and told you that he enjoyed your cooking so much more.

Then, after 3 months, he came home completely exhausted. It was later than usual, and you stayed up late to greet him, completely concerned by his lack of response to any of your texts. “Jun-ho, where the hell were you? Are you okay?!” You ran up to him as soon as he opened the door, looking him up and down for any injuries.

“No, I’m fine.” He smiled a lopsided and insincere smile at you. He smelled like alcohol.

“Were you drinking?” You demanded.

“Me and my coworkers went out for a couple of bottles of soju after work, nothing much.” He shook off his shoes and went to hug you.

You pulled away, “why didn’t you tell me? We always tell each other these things.” 

“Baby, I had a long, long day, let’s not do this right now.”

“No, we have to do this right now, what happened? You’ve been so strange lately, and you never went to talk to someone like you said you would.” You paused, tears beginning to well up in your eyes, “I’m really concerned for you. I want you to get tested for PTSD.”

He stepped closer to you, “I don’t have PTSD, I just had a long day.” You didn’t move. He sighed, “(Y/n), please, I’m exhausted. Can we do this tomorrow?”

You didn’t say anything but didn’t move when he closed the distance between you to pull you into a tight hug. You finally reciprocated, pulling him closer, when you heard silent sniffling from next to your ear. In a heartbeat, you felt a drop of wetness on your shoulder. 

The next day, Jun-ho quit being a detective. After he started crying, he pretended like nothing had happened, got silent, and took a shower before going to bed. You barely spoke another word the rest of the night, but after he thought you went to sleep you could feel him trace circles on your shoulder.

He told you as soon as he got home that being a detective was too much work for him after the accident, and he tired more easily, but you didn’t buy it for a second.

“Jun-ho, you love your job, why would you quit? Do you want to go back on leave?” You pleaded at your husband.

He smiled back at you, “Of course I love my job, it’s only temporary.” And he leaned in to kiss you on the lips.

Temporary. Although your better judgment told you otherwise, you put all your faith in that one little word. Temporary, this, like everything else making your husband act so different, would pass.

Jun-ho came home late the next day. Then the next. The first you waited up for him, sitting at the dinner table, your food growing cold. When your husband came in, he didn’t smell like alcohol, he simply kissed you on the forehead and sat down across from you, not confronting his tardiness. You cried yourself to sleep that night, with your husband laying stiff as a board next to you, unsure of what to do.

The next night, when he was late, you didn’t bother to wake up. You left his food in the fridge and went to bed early, tears streaming down your face. You were still awake when he came into bed but pretended to be asleep. You could feel the bed shaking from his silent sobs.

The next month went on in the same way, with the only escape from the monotony of your miserable silence being Jun-ho’s one day off. On that one day, you would pretend that you didn’t have any problems, that you were a normal couple who would go walking through the cherry trees and go out drinking together late at night. You went on a double date with one of your coworkers and her husband and sat awkwardly through one of their arguments. It wasn’t the same, but having some bit of refuge away from your stress was a lifesaver.

But even that changed. One day, you decided to go kayaking out in the bay, and while you were out in the water, Jun-ho stopped for a minute. There was a gap in your conversation, and during it, your husband stopped paddling.

“Babe, are you alright?”

He looked up at you as if startled. “Yeah, I’m alright.” He paused, “Would it be okay if we went back, I need to do something important.”

“Um, yeah sure. What is it?” You hesitantly asked.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” Your face sank. Every question you asked your husband ended with him saying ‘It’s nothing,’ no matter how big of a deal it likely was.

A couple of days later, when your husband came home late again, he told you that he would be busy on his day off and that a friend of his needed help on his boat. You just smiled and nodded, because what else could you really do?

Then he was busy the next weekend, and then the next, and the next. You only really saw your husband for a couple of minutes in the morning, and a couple of minutes in the night. Sometimes, you were able to make time. Sometimes, you would go out for a nice dinner, or go out to a friend’s party for the holidays. On your birthday he took the whole day off work and planned every single thing you would do all day. He made breakfast, took you shopping in the morning, went out to a nice lunch, took you out to the countryside to the ocean, and bought you lunch in your favorite tiny spot next to the shore. It was like for just 24 hours you had your husband back.

But other than that, it was like living with a ghost. He got more and more stressed over time. He smiled the same amount, but even with taking a demotion to a regular cop, he was getting worse and worse over time. He felt tenser, and more on edge than he had ever been before.

Every night you would fall asleep crying, you became used to waking up with a wet pillow or having to look at your puffy eyes when you wiped the condensation off the mirror after crying in the shower. Whenever Jun-ho saw the tears, whether you were laying in bed or cooking dinner on one of the rare nights that he came home early would wrap you in a hug from behind, and say, “I’m so sorry honey, I promise this will pass.” 

And you would plead, “Please honey, please, just tell me what’s happening, please be here more.”

And he would press his head into your back and whisper, “I can’t, I’m sorry. I love you.”

Your hopes would drop all over again, “I love you too.”

It was three years before anything changed. You would constantly beg him to do anything, to see someone, to talk to you, to do anything. Your friends asked you if he was cheating, but you knew he wasn’t. You knew, somehow that whatever was happening, was big, and important. And that it was eating you and your husband alive.

You didn’t see him for three days. He answered all of your texts with “Just something for work, I’ll be home soon. I love you.” Nothing else. No explanation for anything.

You slept on the couch and stayed there when you were awake, racked with anxiety. When he finally came home you sat there staring straight ahead. He didn’t speak.

You had pictured a fight, a confrontation. You had begged and pleaded, with tears in your eyes before. But nothing had happened. And after almost four years, you didn’t have any energy left.

“I want a divorce.” You surprised yourself with the words.

You looked up at him, and he stood there, his expression unreadable. 

“If you can’t tell me what the hell is going on, tomorrow I’m going to a lawyer.” 

He stumbled toward you and dropped to his knees in front of you, “(Y/n), please. You just have to trust me. This, this’ll all be over soon. I know I’ve said it before, but this time I mean it, soon it’ll be just like before.”

You looked into your husband’s eyes which were beginning to fill with tears. “I don’t believe you.”

“Baby, please. I can’t tell you, I really can’t.” His head dropped, breaking eye contact as you saw a tear fall down to reach the floor. He whispered, “If- if you know the truth, I don’t know what’ll happen to you. And I can’t risk that. I- I’ve risked everything else. But I can’t risk you.”

You couldn’t cry, your tears were all dried up. You should be shocked by what he was saying, but your mind went back to what you heard him say from outside that hospital room years ago “Hundreds… Shot.”

“I know, I’ve known. I know that you remember, and I know that it’s related to when you went missing. I just need you to trust me. I can’t do this anymore.”

He looks up at you, grabbing your hands and wrapping his around yours. “I know, I’m so sorry, but I need you to just wait a little bit longer-”

You stood up. “I think you should leave.” 

“(Y/n), please.”

You walked away from him, towards your bedroom. “(Y/n), I love you.”

“I love you.” And then you heard the door shut.

As you lay in bed, you couldn’t help but feel empty, like your heart had been torn out of your chest. The brutal calm you had been through was over, but storm had just begun.

Part two will be out with the next season, stay tuned for more!

[liahaslosthermind]

𝐀𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐦𝐧 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞!

Azriel x Historiographer!reader Summary: Azriel and his mate tried to tell his family about their mating bond. Unfortunately, arsonist nephews, tired (and frankly, scared) generals with a single eyebrow, and stressed out parents made the task seemingly impossible. Warnings: Inner Circle is obtuse, Nyx is vengeful, Rhys is kinda an asshole A/N: Reader’s job has little to nothing to do with the story, I just hate using “y/n” so I come up with loopholes to address the reader without using it. 

It had been 3 months since the Spy Master of the Night Court and Velaris’ Head Historiographer had stopped dancing around their feelings, 2 months since the mating bond had snapped between the two, and approximately 1 hour since they decided to tell their family. 

“They will be excited for us, my love.” She cooed, trying to fix the perpetual frown that adorned her mate’s face. “They will be annoying of course, they always are,” she grumbled, “but they will be happy. And they will finally stop worrying about whether or not you are going to die alone.” She teased, combing through Azriel’s hair as she tried to push it back, a style he hated but she absolutely loved. 

“I don’t see why we have to make it a thing.” Azriel replied, fixing his hair the second her hands left his head.

“A thing? You mean our mating bond? The one you prayed for every single day of your 500 year long life? You don’t want to make telling the most important people in your life into a thing?” 

“I just thought… maybe a surprise mating ceremony would be better.”

“Azriel, how do you think that will play out? ‘Surprise, we are mates and this is our mating ceremony! But don’t make it a big deal, we don’t want it turning into a thing!’” 

“Well, at the end of the ceremony we will disappear and go on vacation before they can say anything. That way they have time to cool down and we get to have a nice relaxing time together without their antics.” Azrel justified, or at least tried to.

The small smile that adored his lips while thinking about said vacation instantly dropped when she started laughing at him. 

“And what do you think will happen when we get back? If they don’t manage to crash our honeymoon just to get answers, then there will certainly be hell to pay when we come home. And I promise, it will end up being a much bigger thing than if we just told them tonight at dinner.” 

Azriel grumbled in response. She was right, of course, but it didn’t mean he looked forward to telling their family. He wasn’t ashamed of her, nor of the bond between them, how could he be? But Azriel never liked attention, it’s why his work was so perfect for him. But his family… they were nosy. They would make it a big deal and while, quite frankly, it was a big deal, Azriel wasn’t looking forward to the show. 

Fortunately for him, the Inner Circle was also far too obtuse at times, though this time it wasn’t really their fault.

Feyre and Rhysand had recently discovered that Nyx could Winnow. This happened about a month prior when Feyre went to wake her son up from his nap and found his cradle to be empty. After 45 minutes of panicked searching alongside Rhys, Mor, Elain, Lucien, Cassian, Nesta, Azriel, and a few of the priestesses, Feyre found her son in the arms of Amren, who had discovered him in front of her apartment door an hour prior. 

Baby Nyx loved his aunt Amren more than anyone else, much to the chagrin of his parents and the rest of their family. 

In the past month, various wards had been implemented to stop the High Lord and Lady’s child from disappearing again, but they have also had to deal with the various other abilities that seemingly manifested since. 

When Azriel and his mate finally made it to dinner, Cassian had one eyebrow and an already healing burn, Mor was missing a couple inches of hair that had seemingly been singed off, both Feyre and Rhys had eyebags like never before, and a very content Nyx was sat on the lap of a gloating Amren. 

“I hope we didn’t miss all the fun!” the historiographer joked, hoping to lighten the tense mood in the dining room. 

“Oh, you missed the show, but I’d be more than happy to recount the details for you.” Nesta spoke up, cackling when she looked at her one-eyebrowed mate who hadn’t stopped pouting since the incident. 

As the two late comers sat down and started to eat, the tension in the room didn’t cease. In fact, it seemed to get worse every time Nesta broke out into giggles when looking at Mor and Cassian. 

After far too many seconds of painful silence, Azriel received a kick on the leg from his mate. Looking at her, she hissed what he assumed to be a few “encouraging” words about him growing a pair. 

After taking a deep breath, Azriel cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the entire table. 

“We have been meaning to talk to you all about something. Now, I know things around here have been… rather tense. But hopefully this good news will-”

“One second-” The High Lord interrupted as a note appeared before him. Upon reading the missive, he groaned before passing it to Feyre, the letter eliciting the same reaction from her as well. “Madja got us in touch with a healer who specializes in High Fae child development. He says that this thing with Nyx is normal at this stage, especially with powerful parents, and that the powers displayed might not even stay. It's like the Mother is testing which abilities Nyx will have, and we haven’t even gotten to the worst of it yet.” Rhysand grumbled, his hand going through his uncharacteristically unruly hair. 

“Well when the two most powerful fae in Prythian love each other very much…” Mor started. 

“They curse the rest of their family by creating the most vengeful baby the world has ever seen.” Cassian hissed. After a kick on the shin from Feyre, and a smack on the chest from Nesta, he quickly added, “Not that we don’t love you Nyx. You are the light of all our lives and blah blah blah.” After an additional glare from Rhys, Cassian yelled: “He can’t even understand me! It's not like he knows what I am-” the general abruptly stopped talking when his salad caught on fire, causing the baby on Amren’s lap to start laughing. 

After the Shadows made quick work out of putting out the fire, Azriel spoke up once more, “As I said, I know you all have a lot going on right now-”

“No kidding.” Nesta interrupted. “I keep having to fight the camp lords to allow my Valkyrie to compete in the Blood Rite and I swear every time I bring it up they find new ways to make our life harder.” 

“I am sorry to hear that Nesta, but like Azriel said I think this news will-”

“The Illyrians are a backwards group that won’t respond to being asked to change their ways. I keep telling Rhysand he needs to be harder on them.” Azriel interrupted his mate. She would have been more upset had she not known how sore of a subject Illyrians and their beliefs were for her mate. 

“Azriel, we have discussed this before. You are letting your hatred of them get in the way of logical thinking. They won’t respond to abrupt changes either, you need to let me do my job.” Rhysand argued. 

Before Azriel could argue back, he felt a supportive squeeze on his hand from the female beside him, gently guiding him back on track. “Look, I am not here to discuss Illyria. If you all could just stay silent for a moment then-” 

Fire seized Cassian’s shoulder, most likely in response to the lighthearted glares he had been sending his nephew. While the leathers protected his skin from the heat, a chunk of his long brown locks had not been as fortunate. 

“Alright, clearly this isn’t working out for Nyx. It’s past his bedtime anyway, maybe we should call it quits.” Feyre spoke up, sending an apologetic look to Cassian. 

“If you all would give me just a moment-” Azriel started.

“Look, it's been stressful around here for us, Az. I promise I will listen to whatever shit you need to complain or argue about another day.” Rhysand interrupted. While the silence that followed would have given Az the opportunity to correct his brother’s, rather rude, assumption, his mate stopped him before he could speak up. 

“You know what, you’re right, tonight isn’t the night for any family discussions. We wouldn’t want to bother you all with our lives. Have a good night.” In the many years Rhysand had known the Head Historiographer of his court, and the many years since they had become friends- almost family, he had never heard her speak in such a tone. But before anyone else could get a word in, her and Azriel had disappeared into the shadows. 

Back at her apartment, Azriel watched as his mate, seething in anger, paced in front of the fireplace. 

“I cannot believe he really insinuated all you were trying to do was argue or complain when you specifically said it was good news! What a childish, egotistical, brat!” 

“My love, he is going through a lot with Nyx right now-”

“That does NOT give him the right to talk to you like that! If he were to speak to Cassian that way, Nesta would have bitten his head off. I mean how many times had he lost it when Nesta and Feyre fought? Gods, I should have really laid it on him. It is totally unacceptable that he-” Her impassioned rant was suddenly cut off by an equally as passionate kiss. 

Suddenly, she couldn’t have cared less about what the High Lord had to say. All that existed in that moment was her and her mate. 

When the two separated, all negative emotions had been depleted, the only care being the golden string that attached one soul to the other.  

“How about this,” Azriel spoke, still breathless from the kiss the two had shared, “We can make a game out of it. We tried telling them, how about now we just make it as obvious as possible without explicitly stating anything, and see how long it takes them to figure it out.” He suggested.

“And if they are truly too obtuse to catch on?” She asked.

“We can give them the time it takes to plan a proper mating ceremony. If by then they still haven’t figured it out, then we can go with my original plan. That way they can’t be upset because it would be their fault for not catching on, and we get to have fun.” 

“A part of me kind of hopes they don’t catch on now.” She giggled. 

“Oh, trust me, unless we spell it out for them, they won’t know a thing.” Azriel replied. 

A/N: I have ideas for part two, but I also have 1,000 other ideas and projects half written, so let me know if you would like a sequel!

Edit: Read Part 2 here!

[yeonzzzn]

numbers up: sim jaeyun

part three of chilling & killing 🔪 | spotify playlist

pairing: jake x afab!reader word count: 15.3k

synopsis: with the imposter ghost face on the loose and your life being threatened, jake makes preparations to keep you safe and track down the copycat. you also make preparations with the heads of the film and investigation departments to bring down the imposter. trust no one and remember…everyone is a suspect.

genre: established relationship, ghostface!jake, journalist!reader, smut.

warnings: swearing, jake is fucking insane (as always), blood & m*rder, dry humping, reader gets stabbed, multiple unprotected sex scenes, shower sex, hair pulling, if I missed everything please let me know!

You’ve never seen Jake this paranoid before, or well, paranoid ever. Paranoia wasn’t an emotion Jake had ever had to feel and deal with, that was until you. Until this copycat ghost face made threats to your life and drove Jake to hold you close and always double-check over his shoulder. 

That phone call made Jake scared—truly, genuinely, scared. Which was another emotion he’d never felt. Jake usually lived on the thrill of it all. The thrill of someday being caught by law enforcement. The thrill of someone finding out his identity and challenging him. But he has you now. You changed everything. 

Which drove him to make this decision. To move himself and you across town into another apartment, leaving everything behind. 

You sat on the brand new couch you and Jake just finished moving up the stairs and into your new apartment, looking up at him on the ladder he stood on, drilling the new security system and camera into the corner of the living room. 

Your eyes wandered around your new home, to all the boxes and new furniture and new bags of clothing. You thought Jake was joking when he mentioned moving out and leaving every single thing in your old apartment behind. He clearly wasn’t. 

Jake paid for everything, the new lease for this apartment. Bought you and him new phones that had new numbers on a completely different phone plan than your previous ones. New bank accounts. New laptops, new emails, and new tablets. Books, journals, clothes, cameras, watches, literally everything. Jake even ditched his previous car and got a new one. Jake’s paranoia wasn’t a joke, and he fully went through with everything. 

He even tried to convince you to move into another town, hell a new country even, but you refused. The two of you were way too close to finishing your majors to just up and leave. You had duties here, the major one being to catch the imposter ghost face. It surprised you at the desperation Jake had to up and leave this life behind, all in the name of keeping you safe. 

Jake glanced down at you for a split second, seeing how you took in the new apartment. The blank stare on your face as you looked over every inch of this place. It hurt Jake, honestly. Up and dropping his old life wasn’t easy on him either. But it was all for you. For you, he’d do anything. That’s why he buckled and agreed to stay at the same college and town. He truly wanted to catch the imposter as much as you, but nothing was more important than keeping you alive. Keeping that pretty blood of yours flowing through your veins and keeping that heart beating. Jake wouldn’t know what he would do if something happened to you, and he honestly didn’t want to find out. 

He finished screwing in the last screw of the new security system and let out a sigh. He glanced back down at you to already see you staring back up at him, “What’s up, honey?” 

You softly pouted, debating if you wanted to ask the question that’s been making circles in your brain, “Where did you get all this money from? To do all this?” guess you decided to ask it anyway. 

Jake leaned on the ladder, smirking down at you, “I’m a serial killer, baby, you think I didn’t save money up in case something like this happened?” 

You figured that was what his answer would be and you didn’t want to admit you were terrified that he went and robbed a bank or random people. Or stolen from his victims. Jake did have a job, way before you even met him. He saved up every penny from each paycheck into a savings account that wasn’t connected to his main account and was under a different name. Jake wasn’t stupid to keep all his money in his main account. It would raise way too many red flags. That account wasn’t just his money from his job, but from earnings he got growing up. Money from birthdays or when his parents felt like handing him money. He would use some of that money to donate to charity, to make that bank account look less suspicious. 

You shrugged up at him, and made yourself comfy on the couch, laying down and stretching out. Jake climbed down from the ladder and walked to your side, “What are you thinking about, my love?” 

You sighed, staring into those beautiful brown killer eyes, “That I want to catch whoever is making our lives difficult.” 

Jake smiled, climbing onto the couch and laying on top of you, nuzzling his face in your neck, “We’ll catch them, don’t worry baby,” he placed a few kisses to your neck, his hand slowly sliding up your shirt, fingers brushing against your skin, “And once we do, we’ll have a guaranteed spot in our respective fields after graduation.” 

You knew he was right. If the two of you managed to catch the imposter you would no doubt have no problems getting your detective jobs. It would be so easy and the town would be stupid to not give you and Jake those positions. You sigh then, realizing that once the imposter is caught, they would be trialed for every crime they have committed—including Jake’s. 

Jake and you never discussed it, about what would happen to whoever it was behind the ghost face mask and what crimes they would go to trial for. But deep down, you knew they would take the hit for both theirs and Jake’s. It only made sense. You refused to let Jake go down. You needed him. You’d…kill for him. 

His kisses on your neck deepened, his teeth nibbling at the skin and tongue licking up your neck. His hand now made its way up to your breast, squeezing the plush between his fingers. 

You softly moaned, tilting your head to give him more access to you. Your eyes fluttered closed and back open, spotting Jake’s duffle bag in the corner of the kitchen. 

“Thought you were going to get rid of that?” you asked with a shaky breath, too deep in the pleasure of his touch to sound serious. 

Jake chucked against your skin, his breath sending goosebumps and chills down your body, “I will tonight baby,” he pressed his hips to yours, his clothed hard cock rubbing against your heat. He removed his face from your neck and brushed his lips against yours,  “How about we stop talking and break into the new couch, shall we?” His hand slid from your breast to the band of your shorts, slipping his hand inside, “Have to make sure the couch won’t break from how hard I am about to pound into you.” 

You pushed his duffle bag off to the back of your mind and embraced his lips to yours. 

Needless to say, the couch indeed held up from the rough sex Jake gave you. 

—

Jake dropped the duffle bag to the ground with a sigh leaving his mouth. He pulled the matches from his back pocket, debating if this was something he even wanted to do. But it wasn’t up for debate, he knew it. This was for you. All for you and the future he wants and will have with you. 

Plus he didn’t travel out to this small shitty countryside town for nothing. 

Jake has traveled here before to take care of some…things. He knew the town and knew how easily he could slip in and out without a trace. 

The town had a small farmer's market and an alleyway where they kept barrels of hay to sell to customers for their farm animals. Jake was in luck to see one was still here and had enough hay in it to catch fire. 

He pulled a match from the box, striking the red tip to the side, watching how the flames rose and lit up the alleyway then tossed it into the barrel. It didn’t take long for the fire to spread. 

Jake looked back down at the duffle, kneeling down and opening the bag, his ghost face mask staring right back at him. He smirked, rubbing his fingers over the curves of the mask, “It’s been a hell of a ride.” 

Without another thought, Jake tossed the black cloak, gloves, and then the duffle bag into the barrel. He took one final look at the mask before tossing it in. 

Jake didn’t know how long he stood there staring at the barrel, watching the flames tear a part of him into pieces. He wasn’t sad, no no, he stood there with a smirk on his wash, watching how the white of the mask burnt and crumbled away. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, his crazy smile only growing wider. 

He finally walked away, feeling the heat of the fire against his back, “I’ve always loved playing with fire.” 

—

“Absolutely not!” Jake said with a stern voice, his eyes glaring at you over the top of his laptop. 

You shift your weight to one side, crossing your arms, “You know I am the head of the journalism department, right?” 

Jake raises a brow at you, “Okay, and?” 

You thin your lips in a line, narrowing your eyes, “Excuse you?” 

Danielle sat diagonally from Jake to his left, her eyes wide as she looked back and forth between the two of you, “I hate seeing mom and dad fight…” she whispered before standing up quickly, “I’m going to head to my next class…” without another word, Danielle slowly walked out of the office. 

Jake waited until the door fully closed before darting his eyes back to his laptop screen, “I said no, end of discussion.” 

You understood Jake’s worry, you really did. But without the other department's help, you wouldn’t catch the imposter. Earlier this morning, the dean of your college sent you an offer to pair up with the film and investigation departments to cover more ground for the ghost face cases. It would benefit you to have that help so it’s not just on your and Jake’s shoulders. Mostly with the recent cases. 

The imposter went on a killing spree over the course of a week, killing six students on campus, and two random strangers on the street on the edge of town. That’s EIGHT victims within a WEEK. What made these cases so major was the imposter started leaving specific items at each crime scene, clearly in a way to taunt Jake. Another ghost face mask was found at one scene, then a glove at another. The cloak was found at the next crime. A pair of bloody shoes at the next, the exact same knife type Jake has used was found at another. Then another ghost face mask. The other crimes were repeats of gloves and other items. The case was growing bigger and becoming too much for just you and Jake to handle, so when the dean gave you that offer…

“Well, I already said yes, so…” you hummed, not taking your eyes off your boyfriend. 

Jake chuckled, “Well, again, I said no. Cancel it, tell them you changed your mind,” He didn’t look up from the screen, typing something. You roll your eyes, slamming the laptop closed. Jake glared at you, “You’re on thin ice, honey.” 

You placed your hands flat on the table, leaning towards him but still being far enough away, “I run this department and you’ll deal with this choice whether you like it or not, understand?” he narrowed his eyes at you, “And you can look at me like that all you want, I’m not scared of you Jake.” 

You lifted yourself off from the table, barely turning to face away from him before he was on his feet and in front of you, hands on your waist and lifting you onto the table. He pushed between your legs and brushed his lips against your ear, his hands now flat on the table on either side of you, “It turns me on when you talk like that to me, baby,” he rubbed his nose against the shell of your ear, “It’s so fucking hot when you put me in my place.” 

He kisses your neck, one hand lifting to the other side to tilt your head, giving him more access, “It’s all true though,” you mumble, barely being able to get the words out. 

Jake chuckles against your skin, pressing his growing hard length to your cunt, “I could kill you at any moment, honey, don’t forget who I am.” 

You place your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back so he can look at you, “You wouldn’t,” you smirked, moving your face inches away from his, noses touching, “I don’t care who you are, Jake Sim, you can’t live without me.” 

Jake smirks, pushing his tongue past his lips and licking a stripe against yours then taking your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a soft pull before releasing it. It was true, he couldn’t live without you. “Keep running your pretty mouth and I’ll take you right here on this table.” He bucked his hips against yours, brushing his lips over yours, “I’d fuck you so nice and slow and hard,” he whispered then connected his lips to yours. 

You don’t know how much time has passed, but Jake had pulled you to the edge of the table, rocking his clothed hard cock against your heat in a slow but hard motion, his hands running up and down your back as his tongue pressed in and out of your mouth. Jake was so ready to unbuckle his belt and tear your jeans apart to feel that sweet pussy of yours wrapped around him, that was until a knock on the door sounded, and the door was opening. 

Jake dropped his face into your neck, backing his lower half away from you and releasing a groan, “Did I interrupt something?” 

You quickly push Jake away and drop to the floor, “No, Jay. Everything is fine.” 

Jay stood in the crack of the door, his laptop in hand, eyes darting over to Jake, “Nice seeing you again, Sim.” 

“Woof.” 

Jay rolled his eyes, looking away from him and back at you, “Put your dog on a leash, ya?” 

Jake took a few steps forward but you stepped in front of you, “Jake, we aren’t doing this,” you snapped, “Sit down, please.” Jake didn’t take his eyes off Jay as he pulled the chair out and sat down. 

Jay smirked, letting a whistle escape his lips in a way of saying “Good dog.” Jake wanted to growl and bare his teeth and bark, showing him what kind of dog Jake could really be. 

“Please, come in,” you said, waving your hand to the free seats, “Is Jungwon coming too?” 

Jay was the head of the film department. His team mostly covered sports and weather, but occasionally would show up and film crimes, sending your department the footage later to write the articles and publish both to the campus’s website. Jungwon, Jay’s second, as if on command, popped out from behind him, carrying their camera, “I’m here, just fell behind.” You could tell the younger was nervous, giving him a small smile as he walked in and set the camera on the table. 

Jake kept his eyes on Jay, studying his every movement. Not liking the way the blonde-haired male would look and smile at you. Jake was against teaming up with the other departments for more than just not wanting Jay around you. He didn’t trust him. Or anyone, for that matter. Jake didn’t care if having extra people around made finding the imposter easier, having these people around put you in danger. 

You pinched Jake’s bicep, giving him a look to behave and relax. Jake just shrugs, leaning back in the chair and wrapping his arm around your waist, and pulling you close to him, resting his head on your hip. You ruffled his hair, loving how cute he looked as he scrunched his nose and batted your head out of his hair, fixing what you messed up. It still amazed you how this man was a serial killer. This soft puppy sitting in front of you was secretly insane and committed so many murders but was so soft when it came to you. It was cute, truly. 

Another knock and the door slowly slid open, “Am I late to the party?” 

You smiled, “Nope! Just in time.” 

Heeseung slowly walked into the room, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, “Good, was worried I might be.” 

Lee Heeseung, the head of the investigation department. The poor guy was appointed the department head because the previous one was murdered last week…a victim of the imposter. You’ve met Heeseung a couple of times before, or well, have seen him a couple of times before. Anytime you went to the investigation office for results or photos of the crimes he always sat in the back with his lab coat and goggles over his glasses, as he worked on pieces of evidence the police department let the school borrow. 

You could tell he was also nervous, but he had plenty of reasons to be. One was the daggers Jake was sending at him, second, the man was just appointed the department head after his was murdered, and lastly, this was his first major job as the head, having to completely take over the ghost face case and deal with you and Jay on top of it. 

Heeseung sat down across from you and beside Jay, running a hand through his hair, “Sunoo should be here soon, he was printing off some extra photos from the murders a few days ago.” 

You nodded, finally sitting down beside Jake, “It’s nice to finally talk to you,” you said, leaning your elbows onto the table, “You were always so busy in your little corner anytime I was on that side of the campus.”

Heeseung smiled, “Yeah, I’m in my own little world sometimes. You could probably have imagined my surprise when I was picked to fill in the shoes. I basically had to beg Sunoo to be my second for these cases.” 

Sunoo you’ve worked with a few times before, he was shy but such a beautiful ray of sunshine. Had a sparkling personality and always brightened the room with his smile. He was super smart and would make a killer investigator one day. 

Jake listened as you, Jay, Jungwon, and Heeseung spoke back and forth. Eyeing their movements and facial expressions, noticing how Jay and Heeseung kept their eyes on you a little too long. Jake knew you were the department head and they were more than likely just being respectful, but Jake couldn’t forget the crush Jay has on you, or clock out Heeseung was basically undressing you with his eyes. 

Or maybe Jake was just getting jealous he had to share you with other people. That was probably it. 

Sunoo finally showed up, handing everyone their own folders of the photos. Jay opened his laptop up, connected the camera then blue toothing the laptop to the projector in the office to show footage they’ve taken along with footage from the security cameras around campus. You passed along articles and pulled the corkboard out. 

Hours passed as the six of you discussed the cases and exchanged information each department had. It surprised you how calm Jake was for the most part. Only getting sassy during specific topics. Jake was all-knowing of ghost face for his specific cases, knowing next to nothing about the imposter. 

The meeting finally came to an end and you were very much ready to go home and take a warm shower. 

Jake and Jay sat at the table still discussing one of the murders, meanwhile, Jungwon, Sunoo, and Heeseung prepared to leave. 

You held the door open for them, thanking Jungwon and Sunoo for attending, ready to do the same for Heeseung but he stopped in front of you. Jake clocked it immediately. 

“Thank you for welcoming us into your space,” Heeseung said with a tilt of his head, “It was finally nice getting to work with you.” Heeseung was trying to keep himself calm, shoving his hands into his pockets so you wouldn’t see how badly he was shaking. He found you extremely cute and incredibly smart. He was blown away at today's meeting because of you. 

“Likewise,” you smiled at him, “Hopefully this partnership does all of us some good and we catch this ghost face.” 

Heeseung pushed his glasses back up, “We are the department heads for a reason, we’ll catch them.” 

Jay noticed how clocked out Jake was, pulling his eyes over to you and Heeseung, “You going to bark at him like you did to me?” Jay teased. 

“Just might fuck her in front of both of you so you’ll be reminded who she belongs to.” 

Jay rolled his eyes, “She’s allowed to have friends, you know.” 

Yeah, she is, just not friends with males who want to fuck her and look at her like I do. Only I can look at her like that. Only I can fuck her. Point blank. 

Jay signed, crossing his arms, “Listen, Heeseung is a good guy, a little shy, but he’s new to this, don’t bark at him.” 

Jake patted Jay’s shoulder, “Okay, buddy,” and with that, Jake was walking towards you. 

Heeseung pulled his phone from his back pocket, “I was thinking since we are all working together, we can exchange phone numbers,” he smiled awkwardly, his glasses falling down his nose and him quickly pushing them up, “We can have a group chat as well.” 

Before you could answer, Jake wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you to him, “We don’t exchange numbers.” 

Right…because you both had to get new phone numbers. No one had your new numbers, not even Sunghoon. “Everyone is a suspect,” Jake said once you got your new phones, “trust no one.” 

Heeseung glanced over at Jake, “I’m n-not trying to steal her or anything,” he stuttered, “I just figured it would be easier for us to contact each other so we aren’t running across campus.” 

Jake smiled, “We can exchange school emails and our school chat IDs, that should be good enough, ya?” 

Heeseung looked at you and all you could do was shrug, apologizing with your eyes. 

“Jay,” Jake called, “Come over here, the four of us are going to exchange chat IDs.” 

You knew Jake was doing this to protect you and him. He wasn’t going to just hand over your phone numbers that easily. He was playing smart, having to be one step ahead in this game he’s playing with the imposter. The chat IDs were Jake’s only plan to not make it seem suspicious completely, mostly since the IDs were from the college and connected to the college emails. Your numbers were safe.  

You all exchanged the IDs and made the group chat, Jay saying he’d add Jungwon later and Heeseung agreeing to the same for Sunoo. 

Once the boys left, Jake slid the door closed and locked it, staring at you with hooded eyes, “I’m fucking you on this table like I said earlier.” 

You giggled as Jake picked you up in his arms and laid you down on the table. Jealousy was cute on him. 

—

You tied red strings around the pushpins on the corkboard and then took a few steps back, resting your body against the kitchen counter. You crossed your arms and let your eyes wander the board. Stopping at each photo of the imposter's crime scenes, and at each item they have left. Looked at the school’s articles and the official news articles that were pinned by each photo. Your laptop sat on the kitchen table, replaying the videos Jay filmed and was kind enough to send to you. 

Trying to wrap your mind around these cases was making your brain hurt. Mostly since Jake was stuck at soccer practice for the next couple of hours, you’ve been taking this head on by yourself. 

You rubbed your fingers to your temples, needing a much-needed break. So you splash some water on your face from the kitchen sink and gently dab your face with a towel. You pulled a bottle of water and an apple from the fridge, sat on the couch, and propped your feet onto the coffee table. The apartment was quiet and you honestly hated it, wishing Jake’s laughter was echoing off these walls. Jake hasn’t left your side since all this bullshit started happening and the only time he wasn’t with you was his soccer practice. You always offered to go with him and sit in the bleachers, but he always refused. Mostly because he wouldn’t be able to completely focus. He barely was able to focus when you were at the apartment alone, but he knew you’d at least be safer there than at the campus. You’re just instructed to not leave the apartment at all if he wasn’t with you. Which was fair. Jake was able to hold his own because ya know, being a serial killer and all. But you? You were barely a challenge for Jake when he had you pinned to the floor and a knife to your throat after you figured out he was the ghost face. You could barely dominate Jake in the bedroom, he could hold his own. You?? Ehh.

You finished the apple and water, threw away the trash, and got back to work. You sat at the table, flipping through more photos Heeseung sent over and rereading some of the articles Danielle had written. The more you look over everything, the more your brain hurts and that small break did nothing. You sigh, reaching for your backpack in the chair beside you, digging for the documents and articles Jake has created and written, only to not find them there. 

“That’s fantastic,”  you mumbled, standing from the table and walking to the bedroom, finding Jake’s backpack on the floor by the closet. You bent down and opened it up, digging through his textbooks and folders but not finding the one you were looking for, “Fuck!” you sat on the floor, covering your face with your hands, “This is so fantastic.” 

You wanted to call your boyfriend, but you knew he was busy with practice and wouldn’t answer. But you doubt he would even have the articles to begin with. You shot back to his backpack, thinking hopefully his laptop would be in there and sure enough, it wasn’t. Meaning he left it in the office on campus, where the extra copies of the articles would more than likely be. You debate leaving the apartment, knowing you shouldn’t and Jake would be pissed off if he finds out…but he would be gone for hours and wouldn’t even know you left unless he checks the camera footage in the apartment. You tuck your lip between your teeth, ultimately deciding to leave. You’d be there and back before Jake even returned home. 

You slipped on your shoes and threw on a hoodie, pulling the hood tightly and comfortably over your head and double checking the door was locked before rushing down the stairs and making your way to campus. Thankfully it wasn’t a far walk. 

You quickly made it to the campus, unlocking the door to the office and closing it behind you. The campus was empty and quiet, being that it was the weekend. Made it perfectly for you to slip in and out quicker. Jake’s laptop sat on the table in his spot, just like you figured it would be along with the folder of the copies sitting on top of it. You grabbed both and hurried back out of the office, locking the doors. 

You made it to the first floor of the building when your phone started ringing. Your heart sank. He’s going to be so mad. You pulled your phone from your shorts pocket, expecting to see Jake’s name on the screen but instead seeing Unknown Caller. You tucked your lip between your teeth, locking the phone to ignore it. It’s probably just some spam call. You walked out of the building's doors, your phone ringing and the same caller ID popping up. 

You looked around the campus, not seeing anyone in sight. You dismiss the call, taking two steps down and your phone rings again with the same ID. You quickly dismiss it and with shaky hands, you dial Jake’s number. 

The caller you are trying to reach is unavaila—

“Shit!” you curse, redialing the number and getting the same message. 

Fear filled you, hands trembling as you stared at your boyfriend's number then the screen showing the ID calling again. 

You locked your phone and quickly went down the rest of the steps, making it halfway away from the building and parking lot when your phone once again rang. You stopped walking, looked around the campus, and finally answered the phone. 

“Hello, YN,”

You gripped your phone as it was pressed to your ear, “Hello, imposter.” 

“It’s been a while since I last spoke to Jake.” they chuckled, “I wonder why that is?”

“Yeah, crazy.” you whipped around behind you, looking back at the building you came from, then turned back towards the parking lot and looked at the buildings beyond it. 

“Isn’t it rude to change your numbers without telling anyone? Jake must have been desperate. Mostly after the very attractive photos I’ve taken of you at your…old apartment.” 

You swallowed. Whoever this was, they knew your numbers had changed and that you moved. You kept looking around, trying to find anyone near only to find no one. 

“What do you want?” you asked, starting to quickly walk again. 

“Like I told Jake, you’ll know soon enough.” 

You scoff, picking up your pace. 

“Where are you going in such a hurry, YN?” You stopped walking again, heart nearly stopping, “Don’t you know it’s rude…” 

You had a bad feeling, body shaking and trembling, “Rude that what?” you asked, but then the line hung up. 

You barely had time to realize what was about to happen. They had their arm wrapped around your neck and their knife piercing the skin at your waist just above your rib cage. 

“Don’t you know it’s rude to walk away when someone is speaking to you?” 

You tilted your head to the side and up, seeing the ghost face mask you were all too familiar with. 

You swallowed again, trying to form words but nothing came out but gasps. 

Jake slouched against the bleachers, taking his towel and wiping the sweat from his face and hair. Sunghoon sat down beside him, “Practice was hell today.” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” Jake sighs, “I’m ready to go home.” 

Sunghoon glanced over at his best friend, “You still not going to tell me where you both moved off to? Or your new number?”

Jake sat still, not looking at his friend, “I have my reasons.” 

Sunghoon moved closer, “Did something happen? Jake, this isn’t like you.” 

Jake wanted to snap at him that he didn’t know anything about him besides what Jake allowed him to see. He loved Sunghoon, truly did. But with the imposter…he couldn’t trust anyone. Not when his girlfriend's life was on the line. 

“Let’s just say it’s a long story, one you’ll know soon enough.” Jake hoped he would accept it and leave it alone. And thank god he did. 

Sunghoon sighed and just stood up, “Time to head home, see ya tomorrow?” 

Jake stands up too, reaching out for his friend's hand, “Yep, see ya at the skating rink at two pm.” 

Sunghoon took his hand, “Make sure YN joins too!” he said as he walked away. 

Jake nodded and picked up his bag, heading for the changing room. 

Once he was out of his sweaty soccer clothes and cleaned himself and in cleaner clothes, he left the locker room, finally pulling his phone from his duffle, seeing your few missed calls. Jake waited until he was in his car and heading back home before calling you back. The line didn’t even ring and went straight to voicemail. Jake raised a brow, “Okay, weird.” He redialled your number, and it once again went straight to voicemail. 

Jake at this point was parked at the apartment, calling you one more time, it rang twice and then ended. Jake quickly got out of the car and ran up the stairs, stumbling with his keys to unlock the door and stepping inside. 

“YN!” he yelled, seeing the apartment in one piece and no sign of forced entry. He rushed to the bedroom, still not seeing you. “YN!!” he shouted, still no answer. 

Jake was starting to panic. It wasn’t like you to ignore his calls. To leave without telling him or to even just leave. He paced around the living room, pulling up the camera footage on his phone, and seeing you leave the apartment. 

“Goddamn this woman!” he bite his tongue, redialing your number once again, “Fucking pick up…please god let her pick up…” 

Your phone rang again, and you didn’t have to look at it to know it was Jake. 

“Kind of rude to keep ignoring your boyfriend’s calls, isn’t it? Answer it.” 

You took a deep breath, feeling your knees going weak, continuing to ignore the imposter. 

“I said fucking answer it!” he yelled into your ear, pushing the knife in further. 

You grunted out in pain, praying someone was on campus to witness what was happening to you. It was broad daylight on a Saturday afternoon, where was everyone? 

You didn’t want to answer the call. Didn’t want Jake to hear what he was about to. Didn’t want the imposter to kill you and have Jake hear it. You knew what Jake would do… 

The imposter hisses and pulls your back to their chest, removing their arm from your neck and reaching for your phone, accepting the call and putting it on speaker. 

Jake nearly dropped to his knees at hearing the call answer, “YN!” he snapped, “Where the fuck are you?!” 

“Hello, Jake.” 

Jake’s heart stopped, almost stumbling to the floor before catching himself on the kitchen counter, jaw clenching at the sound of the voice changer, “Where is she?” 

The imposter chuckled, “Right here in front of me, say hi, honey,” 

Jake tensed at hearing the imposter use the pet name he’d given you, using it as a taunt. 

“It’s rude to not say hello to your boyfriend, don’t you think?” 

They pushed the knife in further, you gasped in pain. 

Jake was already out the door at the sound of your pained gasp, “I swear to god if you—“ 

“If I what, Jake Sim?” he taunted, “If I kill her? What will you do?” 

Jake ran a head through his hair, “I’ll fucking kill you myself.” 

They laughed, “Sounds about right coming from a serial killer.” 

Your moans filled Jake’s ears, the way you were gasping for air…he needed to get to you. Jake placed the call on speaker and with shaky hands opened the app he installed to find your location, “That makes two of us doesn’t it?” he said, stalling time to find your location, finally pinpointing you at the school. 

“I know you’re stalling, Jake,” they whispered, “To find our location.” 

Jake snarled, “What do you want?” 

Silence, and then, “To see you suffer.” 

They pulled the knife out of your side and shoved it back in, creating another wound. Your cries filled Jake’s ear and now he was sprinting to the school. 

Your body was shaking, feeling your blood pool out of your skin and down your body and to the sidewalk, “You look even prettier with your blood leaking out,” they laughed, “Jake might be too late.” 

Jake ran faster, “Leave her alone!” he screamed completely out of breath. 

“Goodbye, Jake Sim.” 

Then the call ended. 

The imposter tossed your phone off to the side, twisting the knife deeper, pulling it out and back in, making another wound. 

Your hands became weak, letting go of the laptop and folder in your hand, dropping to the ground beside you. Your head flung forward, too dizzy from your blood loss to stay upright anymore. You barely felt the knife being removed from your body and their hands letting you go. 

You fell, your temple hitting the edge of the sidewalk, blurring your vision even more. The imposter knelt beside you, lifting the knife and wiping your blood on their cloak, the black sleeve falling down, revealing a watch at their wrist. They chuckled, staring at the now clean knife, “It was fun, YN, this time we spent together today.” You stared at the mask through your blurred vision, watching as they stood and walked away. Leaving you to bleed out. 

You blinked a couple of times, too weak to try and move, eyes looking up at the blue sky. This was it. This was your end. You thought about Jake and how you wanted to feel his touch, hear his voice. Kiss his lips for the last time. You felt your heart slowing down. It would be any minute now. 

“YN!!” you heard from a distance but muffled. “YN!!” it was closer now, still muffled. You closed your eyes and then felt hands on you, “YN, baby, please open your eyes.” 

It was Jake. He was here. 

You forced your eyes open, barely being able to keep them open for long, but it was enough to see him leaning over you, tears filling his eyes. 

Jake pulled you off the sidewalk and into his arms, resting your head on his chest, panicking at the wound on your head, “Oh my god, baby, please speak to me, keep your eyes open.” His warm hand wiped the dripping blood from your face, starting to rock back and forth, “YN, I need you to open your eyes for me, okay baby? Say something to me. I am right here.” 

You fluttered your eyes open, but closed them again, opening your mouth to speak, but only gasps coming out. 

Jake saw your blood staining your hoodie, carefully lifting the fabric to see three stab wounds and the blood that continued to pool out. Jake pressed his hand to the wounds as hard as he could, feeling you jolt against him, “Shh, I know baby,” he cried, the tears finally falling, panic rising more and his rocks becoming faster, “I am so sorry my love, please stay with me. Hey, open your eyes please, YN. I can’t live without you, please.” You were fading, you knew it. Jake’s cries became more muffled and everything went black. 

— 

Your eyes fluttered open, the sounds of a heart monitor echoing in what you were assuming was a hospital room. The last thing you remembered was hearing Jake’s screams before passing out. You looked down at your body, seeing all the IVs connecting to the veins in your arms and the hospital band around your wrist. You looked to your right, seeing the hospital door boarded up with chairs. You looked to your left, seeing Jake sleeping soundly against your bed in the chair he pulled up close. His hair had fallen over his eyes, lips parted slightly, hearing his breathing. One hand rested on your thigh, and the other was under his head. 

You swallowed, feeling how dry your throat was. You tried to sit up, but Jake felt you shift on the bed, waking him up. He slowly sat up and stood to his feet, standing closer to you and cupping your face, “YN, honey, how are you feeling?” 

You blinked a few times, once again trying to sit up, “I’m thirsty,” you said, struggling to speak. 

“Here, hold onto me so we can sit you up, okay?” Jake rested his hands under her arms and you gripped onto the sleeves of his shirt, pulling as he used his strength to help you shift up, “Be careful,” he whispered. 

Once you were sitting up, Jake helped balance you so he could raise the head of the bed and then help you lean back. He adjusted your pillows helping you feel more comfortable. 

“Thirsty,” you said with a raspy voice. 

Jake nodded, cupping your face once again, and rubbing his thumbs against your cheeks. His eyes glossed over, trying hard to not let the tears fall again, you were okay. You were safe and alive and breathing. You were here with him. He glanced up at the bandage atop your head, “Does your head hurt?” 

You nodded, the pain in your head and your waist fully kicking in, “Both do.” 

Jake placed a kiss on your forehead then went to the bedside table, grabbing the bottled water and the pain meds the doctors said to give you once you woke up, “Here, my love.” 

He handed you the meds and water. You swallowed to the best of your ability and chugged down the water, handing the bottle back to him. He set it back to the table and sat back down in the chair, pulling it closer. 

You stared back at him, watching as he reached for your hand, his fingers twisting at each of yours, before finally clasping his hand with yours, the other covering the top of your hand, “What do you remember?” he softly asked, trying to keep his breathing steady. 

“Everything,” you sighed, looking away from him and to the door, “Was that necessary?” 

“Of course it was,” he scoffed, “I’m not risking you getting hurt again. Trust no one.” 

You tilted your head at your boyfriend, reaching up with your free hand and cupping his face. Jake leaned into your touch, eyes getting glossy again. 

“I was scared I lost you.” Jake didn’t ever want to feel what he felt ever again. Seeing you almost lifeless on the sidewalk, your skin cold and your blood staining the grass and concrete. He screamed as loud as he could until finally another student came out of nowhere and called an ambulance. He didn’t leave your side. He paced the halls back and forth at your room until the doctors came out saying you were stable and your wounds were stitched up and bandaged. “I don’t want to ever go through that again.” 

You slid your hand down to his shirt collar, pulling him towards you, or well attempting to. You were still too weak, but Jake knew what you wanted. So he carefully stood and inched his face closer to yours, pressing his lips to yours. 

He kissed you a couple more times, then sat back down, “What were you doing at the campus?” he finally asked, “I told you to stay home.” 

You softly smiled, “I wanted to get your laptop and the articles you wrote.” 

Jake sighed, looking down at the bed, “Baby, I had a flash drive at home in the drawer.” 

You felt stupid, not even thinking he had other backups, “I’m sorry…” you whispered, tears filling your eyes. 

“Shhh, no,” he said, cupping your face, “Don’t cry, it's okay, I am not mad. I was worried about you.” Jake was more than worried. He was terrified. He didn’t know what he would have done if he found you dead. He’d probably hunt down the imposter, get revenge for what he did to you, and then kill himself. This world wasn’t worth living in if you weren’t living in it. 

You leaned into his face, kissing the palm of his hand, “I shouldn’t have left.” 

Jake just smiles at you, “Tell me everything that happened, from start to finish.” 

So you did. Giving him every detail possible. 

—

“YN,” Jake sighs, pushing your hands off him, “You need rest.” 

All Jake did was come into the bedroom to check on you and give you the pain meds the doctors prescribed to you and you didn’t waste a chance to jump his bones. 

You cross your arms over your chest, rolling your eyes and pouting. Jake smiles and tilts his head at you, “Stop pouting and take your meds.” 

It’s been a week since the incident. A week of laying in this bed and Jake taking care of you while also doing what he could to piece together and solve the imposter ghost face cases. The imposter has been quiet since you encountered him, no phone calls to either yours or Jake’s phone, or even any more murders. Whoever they were, they weren’t radio silent. 

Except for Sunghoon, Heeseung, and Jay of course. Sunghoon arrived at the hospital after hearing the rumors being spread around campus of Jake crying and screaming for help because you were hurt. Heeseung and Jay spammed the group chats you all had for the investigation, asking if you needed anything and of course Jake answering for you saying no. 

Sunghoon now officially knew where the two of you lived, Jake forcing—and threatening—him to keep his mouth about the location of the apartment and to never come over unless he was told to. Sunghoon finally understood now why Jake was being the way he was, all to protect you. 

“I’ve been resting for a week,” you scoffed with a click of your tongue, “I can walk perfectly fine and even use the bathroom and shower on my own.” 

Jake blankly stares back at you, refusing to answer until you take the water and medicine from his hand. So you did, swallowing the pills down with the water. You set the water bottle down on the nightstand, glaring at him. 

He glared back, “If I give you a kiss will you rest?” 

You relaxed your face and nodded. To say you’re deprived of sex would be…silly to say in the least. Jake normally fucked you any chance he could get. But after you got hurt…he didn’t want to risk hurting you or your stitches coming out. He’s told you this, but the more time that passes, the more you crave him. 

Jake sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down and connecting your lips together. Jake held your lips a bit longer, giving you a few more kisses then slowly standing up. You sat up reaching your hands for his shoulders and pulling yourself to your knees and reconnecting your lips to his, pressing your body to his chest. 

“YN,” he said between kisses, hovering his hands over your hips and then shoving you back down to the bed. He was quick to put his hands on your shoulders and push you back down in a lying position. He kept his hand on your shoulders as you glared up at him. Jake wanted to fuck you, oh how badly he wanted to fuck you. He was tired of fucking his cock with his fist the past week, but you needed rest. At least until your stitches were safe to be removed. But that still didn’t stop you from trying to fight against the hold he had on your shoulders. 

“YN,” he sighs, “You’re fucking insane,” he slowly removed his hands from your shoulders, “You were stabbed three times and hit your head, stay the fuck down.” 

Hmmm. Nah. 

You grabbed him by his shirt collar, using your slow returning strength, and pulled him down onto the bed and climbed into his lap, “Funny how you call me insane,” you start to tease him, removing your shirt from your body, exposing your bare chest, “When you’re literally a serial killer.” 

Jake was hard. His hands settled onto your hips and looping his fingers into the thin fabric of your panties, “You’re dating a serial killer, my love. Doesn’t that make you just as insane as me?” 

“What makes you insane,” you whispered, sliding your hands under his shirt and lifting the clothing up, “Is not giving your insane girlfriend what she wants,” you pulled his shirt off his body, running your hands down his broad chest and abs, stopping at the waistband of his shorts. You brush your lips against his, watching how lustful his expression was becoming, “Fuck me, Jake.” 

Jake tore his fingers into your panties, tearing them in half and tossing them to the floor, “Lift up for me, baby.” 

You held onto his shoulder as you lifted yourself up, your breasts now eye level with his face. Jake leaned forward, placing his face between your breasts, kissing them down the middle, his hands cupping them, squeezing them to his face, and taking your skin between his teeth and sucking gently, slowly working his way to your nipple and taking it in his mouth. He sucked on the sensitive nub, hands flying to his shorts and pulling them off him. Jake bit your nipple and pulled slowly, letting it slip from his teeth. He reattached his lips to it, licking and giving it one final kiss before looking up at you, “I need you on my cock, honey.” 

Jake lined his tip to your entrance, one hand on your hip as you slowly slid down him. 

“Fuck,” Jake breathes, resting his head on your shoulder as his tip kissed your cervix, “Fuck you feel so good.” 

A week without your pussy was a week too long and it took everything in Jake to not fuck his hips up into you, letting you completely take control. 

You started off slow, letting yourself adjust to his size and working up your speed. His cock felt so fucking good rubbing against your walls. You’ve craved this, craved him and his touch. You were already losing yourself on his dick, bouncing on him as if it were the last time. 

“Jake,” you moaned out his name, wrapping your arms around his neck, “Oh, fuck, Jae.” 

He bit his lip, flinging his head back and squeezing your thighs, using every ounce of self-control he had to not fuck you senseless, “Fuck, baby,” he moans, “Keep going, oh fuck please keep fucking yourself on my cock.” 

You bounced faster, his tip hitting all the right spots. 

Jake groaned, sliding his hands carefully to your waist, trying to be gentle to not irritate your wounds more than what they probably already were. He was starting to lose himself to your cunt, becoming a moaning mess each time you clench around him, “YN, I’m going to cum if you keep clenching me like that, honey.”

You kept moving, sliding up and down, up and down, rocking your hips as fast as you could go to chase your climax, “I wa-wanna cum,” you gasp, legs getting tired but still pushing nevertheless. 

“Yeah?” Jake whispered, wrapping his arm carefully around your waist, “Baby wants to cum?” You nod, biting your lip. Jake pressed you to him, flipping you over and lying you down on your back, “I’ll make you cum, honey, make you feel so fucking good.” 

You gasped as he fucked into you, using his knees to push your legs further apart, giving him more access. 

You dug your nails into his back, moaning his name repeatedly each time his tip hit your g-spot. You are nearly a second away from cumming. Jake pistoned his hips against yours, hands gripping the bed sheets between his fingers, “Cum for me baby, let it go.” 

Jake thrust hard into you, pushing his cock as far as it could go the moment he felt your cum wrap around his cock, “Jae,” you breathed running your hands up into his hair, “Jaeyun.” 

He kept pushing into you, groaning when he finally pulled out and pushed back in, rocking his hips so fast, “Going to fill this pussy so full of my cum,” he places his lips onto yours, “Fuck, going to cum so deep in this cunt.” 

Jake’s movements got sloppy, breathing becoming uneven as he kept his lips pressed to yours. Jake wanted to cum so bad, it’s been a week since he’s been able to pump his load into your sweet cunt, to feel you clench around him at the feeling of his cum filling you whole. Oh, he couldn’t wait, knowing he could burst at any moment…

“I’m cumming, oh fuck I’m cumming,” he moans against your lips, thrusting a final time and painting your walls, his cum leaking from your pussy. 

Jake rode out his high, slowly catching his breath. He pulled out of you with a grunt, shifting to your left and lying beside you, pulling your face to him to kiss your cheek. 

You smiled and softly laughed, feeling satisfied and so full. Jake was happy seeing you smile, his eyes rolling down to the bandages on the right side of your waist. His smile slowly faded, his fingers tracing over the bandage. He almost lost you. Almost was never able to see your smile and hear your laugh ever again. His blood boiled. 

“Jake,” you whispered, seeing him lost in thought, “Babe,” 

Jake looks into your eyes, “I’m going to kill them, for doing this to you.” You frown, placing a hand on his face. He leaned into your touch, “I’d set this world on fire for you, ya know,” he whispered, his facial expression relaxing, “I’d let it burn and tear apart into ashes and nothingness. Let it completely burn for you.” You leaned into him, laying your head against his chest, his arms pulling you tighter to him. Jake kissed the top of your head and stared up at the ceiling, “I’m going to end that fucker for what they’ve done to you and burn this fucking world down.” 

—

Jake stared down the other two males in front of him, burning holes into their bodies. 

Jay stared back, brows furrowed. Heeseung only glanced up every few seconds, trying to keep his eyes glued to his laptop, pushing his glasses back up his nose. 

“Say some shit,” Jay said with a cool calm with irritation. 

“Some shit,” Jake smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. 

You just roll your eyes, “Can we not today? We have work to do.” 

Jake’s smirk turned into a frown, body relaxing and leaning into you, resting his head on your shoulder. 

“He really is like a dog,” Jay scrunched his nose, “No wonder he barks so much.” 

“Woof.” 

You drop your head into your palms, rubbing your eyes, “Jaeyun Sim, please.” 

Jake has been overprotective of you ever since returning back to campus. Your stitches were removed, but the scar and irritation were still present. It hurt to breathe at times or move certain ways, but you wouldn’t let it affect you. You needed to catch the imposter, after all. 

“Anyways,” Heeseung mumbled, eyeing Jake one last time before looking at the laptop, “The police report finally came back from your case, YN. And the photos my team took are pulled up here as well.” Heeseung sent both files to the group chat. 

“I’m uploading the…” Jay started saying, quickly glancing down at his phone, his jaw flexing then flipping the phone over on the table face down, “Anyways, I am uploading the news report we filmed on top of the official news report from the town,” Jay typed away at his computer, the files popping up in the group chat. 

The four of you looked over the files and reports. Five minutes turned into an hour, and an hour into two. Yet nothing stood out in your case. 

The imposter didn’t leave or take anything at the scene of the crime. They even left Jake’s laptop and folder. Which was odd, considering the imposter would want to take that information? Right? Nothing was adding up. Nothing made sense. Whoever this imposter was, they were thorough, and clean, only left behind what they knew couldn’t be traced back to them. This was a game to them. And they are somewhere laughing their ass off right now. 

Heeseung leaned back in the chair, flinging his head back and pushing his glasses up onto the top of his head, pulling his dark hair up with it. His fingers rubbed at his eyes, “Is there anything any of you can think of that we are skipping over?” he sighed, “Not just with YN’s case?” 

Jay also sighed, his phone buzzing and him looking back at it, carefully lifting it up, then setting it back down, “Not that I know of,” he looked at you, “Is there anything you remember that happened when you were attacked?” 

Jake traced his eyes back and forth between you and Jay and Jay’s phone, tuning out your story, not on purpose, of course, he’s heard you retell your attack multiple times now. The more he hears it, the more pissed he gets. Jay’s phone buzzed again, “Are you going to answer whoever it is that’s spamming you?” Jake said, tilting his head, “It’s been going off nonstop since you’ve been in here.” 

Jay thinned his lips, “I apologize, there’s stuff going on with my family and the arcade.” 

Jake chuckled, “Ahh, the fun arcade.” Jay glared at him, clearly remembering what Jake did in his arcade. 

You rolled your eyes again, tapping your fingers on the table, “This is irritating.” 

Heeseung sat back right in his chair, looking over at you and giving you a small smile, “Hey,” he whispered, leaning closer to you and placing his hand on top of yours, making Jake’s blood boil, “We’ll catch this guy, yeah?” 

Jake swatted Heeseung’s hand off yours, “Hands off.”’

Heeseung blankly stared at Jake and gave a soft nod, pulling his glasses back to his nose, “I apologize.” 

Jake held both your hands in his now, protecting them from being touched again. Eyeing the fuck out of Heeseung. 

You pushed aside your boyfriend's jealousy, staring at your laptop screen, looking over every piece of evidence, “Wait!” You said, pulling your hands out of Jake’s and typing away at your computer. 

“Find something, honey?” Jake asked, peeking over to your screen. 

“I forgot I put in a request for some specific reports and evidence from all the ghost face cases from start to now,” you could feel Jake shift in his chair, not because you are pulling his murders, but all of them combined. It was genius. It would be an easier way to read each of them and find the differences instead of just looking at the pictures and the news reports and articles or trying to piece each puzzle together on your corkboard. This all-in-one combo could give the advantage needed. Jake could fuck you right here in front of everyone and not give a damn. “I put in the request while in the hospital, they should be ready by now.” 

Heeseung was now towering over your laptop to get a look, but quickly sat down after a glare from Jake. He’s way too easy to fuck with. Jake smirked. 

“They are ready!” You stood from the chair, going to take a step. 

“Woah,” Jake said, grabbing your arm, “Where are you running off to?” 

You looked at your boyfriend, then the other two males, “The police station?” 

“Like hell you are!” Jake snapped, “You aren’t going anywhere!” 

Heeseung looked up at you with pleading eyes, “YN, he’s right. You literally got attacked two weeks ago, you shouldn’t be going anywhere alone.” 

“Heeseung gets it!” Jake pointed a finger at him, “Sit back down.” 

“We need those papers!” you retort, trying to pry your arm out of his grasp. 

“I’ll go get it,” Jay said, looking back down at his phone again, “I have to stop by the news office anyways and get something from Jungwon before heading out, I’ll bring the reports here right after.” 

You wanted to protest, but with the three of them, you knew you’d lose. So you just nodded, giving him a small “Thank you, Jay.” 

He shoved his phone into his pocket and smiled back at you, reaching over to ruffle your hair and walk to the door, “No problem, stinks.” Then he was out the door. 

“Stinks?” both Jake and Heeseung said in unison, both side-eyeing you. 

You shrug, “He said I reeked of dog—aka Jake—the other day before Jake’s cologne was strong and rubbed off on me, then he started calling me stinks.” 

Jake scrunched his nose, “I don’t ever want him calling you that again.” 

Even Heeseung scrunched his nose, “It’s an odd nickname to give someone.” 

You rolled your eyes, “He’s being a big brother, kind of.” 

Jake shook his head, “Nope. We aren’t doing this.” 

“Anyway,” Heeseung said, looking at you with his heart smile, “Want to get some lunch from the cafe on campus?” 

“Absolutely! I’ve been craving their coffee and wanting to try that new raspberry pastry!” 

You pulled out of Jake’s grasp and piled your belongings together and shoved them in your backpack, tossing them over your shoulders. Heeseung did the same, noticing Jake’s glare, “Are you coming as well or?” Heeseung asked. 

“Oh? I’m invited?” Jake scoffed, “You weren’t trying to just get my girlfriend alone with you?” 

Heeseung’s glasses fell down to the bottom of his nose as he continued to pack up his things, looking away from Jake, “Considering you don’t let her have any friends, yeah guess you’re invited too.” 

Jake stood to his feet, not liking that Heeseung was talking back to him right now, “Considering my girlfriend had her life threatened and was stabbed three times, excuse me for not letting her out of my sight,” he counters. 

Heeseung pushed his glasses up, “I get it, but I wouldn’t hurt her. But I get it. That’s why I am extending an invitation to you too. You also could use some friends besides Sunghoon.” 

Jake raised his brow. You looped your arm with Jake’s and Heeseung’s, pulling him out of his thoughts, “Come on you two, let’s just get some food. We can invite Jay and Jungwon too, even Sunoo! Where is he by the way?” You asked, “I know Wonnie had an exam and project to work on from what Jay said, what about the sunshine?” 

Heeseung smiled and shrugged, “Sunoo had class and work later, but don’t worry I’ll get him caught up on everything we talked about today.” 

You nodded, pulling the two boys with you towards the doors, “I’m starving!” 

Jake and Heeseung glanced at each other, allowing you to pull them both towards the cafe. 

—

Jake crossed his arms, staring up at the corkboard here at the office. It’s almost two-thirty in the morning, and nothing but the moonlight peeking from the windows lit up the room. Jake was thankful you had two exact copies of the corkboard for both the apartment and the office, making it easier than carrying the big damn thing back and forth all the time. 

He glances down at his phone propped on the corner of the corkboard on the railing, all the cameras in the apartment pulled up on the screen. His eyes shift to the one in the bedroom, seeing you fast asleep in your shared bed. He didn’t want to leave you alone, but he didn’t want to wake you up and drag you here either, all because he couldn’t sleep and needed to wrap his head around this case. 

Jake pulled the papers you requested from the police station earlier out of his backpack, reading over it. It’s been the fourth time he’s looked at this, rereading over his ghost face cases and the imposters, trying to find the fine line that would point to who this imposter was. But the more he looked over it, the more his brain hurt. 

He tossed the papers to the table, running his hands through his hair. Jake had a mental list of suspects, trying to match each person to the cases, but nothing added up. 

Jake assumed it was someone close, not specifically close to him, but close in a way they’ve known about his crimes for the longest time. Known who he was. Jake’s first suspect was Sunghoon, since his best friend was the one who planted it into your mind of the possibility Jake was the ghost face. But Jake continued to keep tabs on Sunghoon, and he hasn’t done or said anything out of the ordinary for Jake to really actually keep him on the list. So he was shoved out. The others? Full game. 

Jake’s next one on the suspects' list is Jay. Jay had always had a small crush on you, and that hasn’t changed even after working with him on the cases. Not to mention he oddly kept checking his phone today and was so quick to offer to get the papers for you. Either he really was just being a protective brotherly figure to you, or he’s the imposter. Jake also didn’t like the attention Jay gave you, still wanting to string Jay’s body from the ceiling of his arcade. 

Heeseung was the third on the list but also the least of Jake’s concerns. Heeseung was skittish and very shy. Very much in love with you, it was obvious. Heeseung looked as if he was about to crawl into his turtle shell and never come back out. He only spoke when spoken to really, unless he had something to say and even then it was quiet and not munch. His department head was also murdered and he was forced to step up, the likeliness of Heeseung being the imposter was slim. 

The rest Jake had on the list were Danielle, Jungwon, Sunoo, and a few others on his soccer team and people in his classes. 

Jake kept rotating the suspect list, trying to pinpoint exactly who would have such a grudge against him to become a copycat murderer. Someone who clearly wanted to watch him suffer, as the imposter said. 

He ran the statement you told him at the hospital over and over in his head, then looked back at the reports, looking at the corkboard, and then pulled up all the files Jay and Heeseung have shared with everyone on his laptop. 

Something clicked in Jake’s brain. His eyes widened. He quickly typed away at his computer, fingers rushing across the keys and eyes darting over every piece of information that was laid out in front of him. 

He smirked, the corners of his lips curling as a laugh escaped his lips, it echoing against the quiet walls of the office, “No fucking way,” he leaned back in the chair, throwing his hands behind his head, “I got you, imposter.” 

Jake wasn’t one hundred percent sure he figured it out, but he knew. He just knew. All Jake needed was the full solid proof. And it was his mission now to figure out a way to get it. 

Jake thought about how he found you two weeks ago, how close you were to death, how close he was to losing you. Jake never was so terrified in his life. Seeing the love and light of his life passing the line of life and death, it killed him. Drove him into a frenzy of wanting to murder every single damn person in this town and the next one over to make sure he got the imposter. But alas, that wasn’t an option. But that didn’t matter now, you would be avenged soon. 

All Jake had to do was make his preparations, which he did before finally heading back to the apartment.  

—

Jake pressed your body against the cool wall of the shower, your face connecting to the wall with a moan. He wrapped your hair around his hand, pulling your face from the wall, his mouth brushing against the shell of your ear as the hot water spilled between your bodies. 

He slid in and out of you with such ease, pulling and yanking at your hair, teeth biting your ear, tongue sliding up and down your ear, soft moans escaping his lips with each thrust and kiss of his tip to your cervix, “Fuck baby, can’t get enough of you.” 

You balanced your hands on the wall, slightly pushing yourself down and lifting back your hips so Jake could pound into you easier, “Jaeeee,” your whimper, “Gonna cum soon.” 

He smirked, “Yeah, babe?” he slowed his thrusts, yanking your hair and forcing your back to connect to his wet chest, “Wanna cum? And make a mess of my cock?” you nod, reaching your hands up and into his wet hair. 

Jake wanted to ruin your pussy. Wanted to fuck you so good you wouldn’t be able to walk for weeks. Fucking you slowly was driving him crazy but oh god it felt so damn good. His breaking became uneven, his moans getting louder. He wanted to cum. To fill your cunt to the brim with his seed and hear your pretty little moans once you feel it seeping out your hole. 

He removed his hand from your hair, sliding his hands down your arms and to your breasts, tracing their outline and flicking your nipples then continued down to your belly and sliding to your waist. 

Jake looked down at your body, loving how it moved with his cock sliding against your walls, eyes taking notice of your stab wounds. Jake locked his jaw as he traced his fingers over the still-healing wounds. Your stitches are gone now, but the scars will now last you forever. A remembrance of what happened to you. A reminder to Jake of what was done to you. 

You felt Jake was disconnected, in some faraway land as he stared down at your wounds, “Jake,” you whisper, tilting your head up to look at him, “Look at me,” Your hand touched his cheek and his eyes looked to you, worried filling them, “I’m alive. I’m here and I’m alive thanks to you,” you slid your hand to the back of his neck, pulling him down, your lips brushing over his, “You’re literally balls deep in my pussy right now, focus on me.” 

He smirked against your lips, then kissed you hard. Your chest was now back against the wall. One of his hands was on your clit, and the other was on your hip. His hips fucked up into you harder and faster than before, your knees buckling, “Hmm what is it, babe?” He coos in your ear, “You said you wanted to cum, so I’m going to make you cum.” 

You moaned his name on repeat, fingers trying their hardest to grip to the wall and praying your knees don’t give out on you. You just wanted to take a nice warm shower before cuddling with Jake on the couch and watching movies, he obviously had other plans. Pulling back the curtains already naked and cock hard in his hands, eyes leading with you as he stepped into the shower with you, “Baby, I need you to take care of this. Need you so bad.” You weren’t complaining, shower sex then cuddling afterward? Still a win-win. 

His finger of your clit with the help of his cock buried deep inside you, your orgasm approached, coating his cock, “That’s it, such a good girl for me, making such a pretty mess on my cock,” he kissed your temple, “I’m fixing to cum, squeeze me tighter, honey.” You clenched around him and he gasped, whimpering out as his breathing became more unsteady. Heart racing as he felt the build-up, cock twitching, “I’m cumming, I’m cu-cumming.” 

Jake shoved his cock as far as he could into your pussy, hips pressing hard against your ass as his white ropes shot between your gummy walls. Jake already knew he came a lot, he could feel it seeping out your hole and physically see it was dripping down your leg. 

“I came so much,” he whispered and chuckled, slowly pulling out and cupping your cunt with his hand, shoving his fingers inside, “Can’t let it go to waste, wanna breed you.”

You leaned back into your boyfriend and smiled. You wanted to tease him that you were on birth control, but let him smile and kiss you as he continued to fuck your cunt with his fingers. 

You finally were able to convince Jake that it was time to finish the shower and get out, mostly now that the water was cold. Jake stood behind you with nothing but his basketball shorts on, running a brush through your hair as his other hand held the hairdryer. He stopped every couple of minutes to place a kiss on your head and whisper he loved you. He even gave you one of his favorite sweatshirts and a pair of his boxers for you to wear to be comfy. You figured his actions were all the cause of you getting stabbed. Hell if this is what it took for him to be this sweet, you’d get stabbed again(totally not, because that shit sucked. You’d never want to go through it again). 

Once your hair was dry, Jake pulled you into the living room, “Want popcorn, my love?” 

You smiled, giving him a nod, “Of course! Can��t have movie night with…out…” your smile faded. Causing Jake’s smile to fade as well. 

Your eyes widened, everything happening way too fast before you could tell Jake to move. 

Jake felt something was off when he saw how you looked behind him. He quickly whipped around, being met face to face with ghost face, their knife sliding into his chest just below his collar bone. He grunts out in pain, but uses the strength he had to push you away from them and onto the floor, then quickly grasping their wrists. It’s not there… Jake pushed the ghost face back, sending them back a couple of steps away. 

Jake took a few quick deep breaths and pulled the knife from his chest, tossing it across the living room. The ghost face was moving back towards Jake, swinging his fist but missing as Jake ducked down. 

Blood was gushing down his chest, making him lightheaded, and once he was low enough to the ground, his knees betrayed him and gave out, connecting to the floor and hands gripping his wound. 

The ghost face came prepared, pulling another knife from their cloak pocket, and walked up behind Jake, grasping a handful of his hair and yanking his head up. Jake gritted his teeth as he stared up at the mask, the knife resting against his throat. 

“Goodbye, Sim.” The voice mod said with a shake in their voice. 

Jake just smiles up at him. 

Time seemed to have slowed for you just then. Your heart racing as you see the imposter hovering over Jake, panic filling you. You were going to watch him kill Jake. They were going to kill Jake then kill you. Your breathing became uneven as you stared at him, watching as he smirked and laughed at the person standing over and about to kill him. How could he be laughing with a knife to his throat? The knife. Where was the knife?

You looked where Jake tossed it at, seeing it near the couch, his blood staining the blade and the carpet it sat beneath. With shaky legs, you stood to your feet, moving as fast as your legs would carry you, picking up the knife. 

The ghost face tilted his head, “What is so funny?” 

“You’re not the ghost face, Park.” 

Before he could respond to Jake, you plunged forward, pushing the knife into his shoulder, his screams filling the apartment and his blood coating your face as you yanked the knife out. With all your strength you pulled at the cloak, digging your foot into the back of his knee and sending him to the ground. 

The moment his back touched the floor, you straddled over his abdomen, the knife piercing into his chest, pushing it further in into the hilt touching his skin. 

“Wait! Fuck please wait!” 

You snarled. He just stabbed your boyfriend and nearly killed you weeks ago and he had the guts to beg? Fuck. This. 

You pulled the knife out and shoved it back in, “You think you can just beg for your life now?” You snapped. 

“It’s Jay!! Please, YN, STOP!!” You sat still, feeling Jay’s hands on your thighs. He gasped for air and you went back to panicking. 

You quickly pulled the mask off his face, seeing the sweat build up on his forehead and blonde hair sticking to his face. Blood dripped out of his mouth and fear covered every inch of his face. 

“It’s…you…” you whispered. 

Jay shook his head to the best of his ability, “I’m not the ghost face.”

“He’s telling the truth,” Jake said, standing behind you, eyes burning into Jay, “How the fuck did you find out where we lived?” 

Jay gasped more for air, more blood spilling from his chest and shoulder wounds. 

“Jake, call an ambulance!!” You snapped, pulling the knife from Jay’s chest and pressing your hands to the wounds, “NOW!! You need help too!” 

Jake held the pressure still to his chest and repeated, “How the fuck did you find out where we lived, Jay Park.” 

Jay took as deep of a breath as he could, squeezing your thighs, “I didn’t. The real ghost face called me one night, telling me he knew who I was, and who my family was, saying he had a job for me.” 

Jake narrowed his eyes, “Keep fucking talking.” 

“I laughed and ended the call. A few days later a duffle bag filled with money appeared on my front porch, with a note telling me to answer my phone, so when it rang, I answered, hearing that stupid voice mod on the other end,” he gasped for air again, “They mentioned the job again, and that the money was my payment. I asked what the job was, and they told me to kill you, Sim.” 

Jake’s face was unchanged, but your heart was racing. You stared at Jay, his eyes looking back at you, his thumbs rubbing against your skin. 

“I declined at first, I couldn’t take him away from you, YN. No matter my feelings for you I couldn’t do it. I donated the money to charity and went on about my business. The next day you were attacked.” 

You kept the pressure on his chest, tears now filling your eyes, “Jay…” 

“After that I tried calling the number over and over, figuring it was a burner phone. But once you returned back to campus, I started receiving text messages,” You recalled the memory, Jay’s phone constantly buzzing and Jake snapping at him to answer it, “The texts told me that if I didn’t kill Sim, they would kill not just YN, but my family. They sent me photos of my parents at their jobs, photos of my friends in their homes, and photos of Jungwon in the new rooms. Photos of YN the day she was stabbed walking into campus and then photos of her bleeding out on the sidewalk and the last photo of you Sim, from the journaling office, wearing the exact clothes you did the day I received all those texts, meaning the killer had to be nearby.” 

Jake processed the information and then kneeled down to Jay’s face, “How did you find out where we lived?” 

“They sent me your address,” he swallowed but then coughed, the red liquid now dripping down his neck, “They gave me a time frame on when I had to do it. Told me the password to the gates of the apartment complex, which building, floor, and apartment number.” 

Jake tilted his head, narrowing his eyes, “And you thought you could just walk in here and kill me? Don’t you know who I am? That I’m fucking insane. Mostly when my girl's life is on the line?” 

Jay closed his eyes tightly, releasing a groan, “Trust me, after the day you fucked her in my arcade I knew you were fucking crazy.” Jay’s words were now shuddering, his voice becoming softer, “I was…scared. I couldn’t…lose my family and friends.” 

“Who is the ghost face?” Jake tested. 

“I…don’t…know.” 

You looked up at Jake, begging him, “Call an ambulance, Jake. Please!” you started crying, blaming yourself for if Jay died, “Jake!” 

Jake stood, taking a few steps back. He understood Jay’s desperation. If some wack ass killer in a white mask and black suit told him to murder someone or else they would kill you, he’d do every task they asked of him. 

“Where is your phone?” He asked Jay.

Jay couldn’t form words, but nodded to his pocket. You let go of his chest for enough time to pull the phone from the cloak, Jake taking it from your hands, the phone soaked red. 

You continued to beg Jake to call an ambulance, tears staining your face as more of Jay’s blood stained the carpet and Jake’s eyes started to unfocus. 

—

You sat on the table in the office, kicking your feet back and forth and fingers gripping the edge of the table. A knock hit the door, and you looked in its direction, “Come in.” 

Heeseung popped his head in, glasses falling to the tip of his nose, “You called a meeting?”

You smiled and nodded, “Come on in.” 

Heeseung fully walked in, taking a look around the room, “Where is everyone else?” He asked, raising his brow. 

“They should be here soon,” you leaned back a bit against the table, “It’s just you and me for right now.” 

Heeseung awkwardly nodded, fingers playing with the straps of his backpack and looking down to the floor. 

“Why don’t you come over here?” You playfully said, “Set your stuff done and come here.” The corners of his lips pulled into a small smile. He nodded again and dropped his bag to the floor. 

Heeseung stood across from you, leaning against the filing cabinet, pushing his glasses back up his nose. 

You look him up and down, “Jake told me you had a crush on me.” 

Heeseung’s eyes widened, ears burning red, “H-He what? That’s silly, YN.” He looked away from you and back to the floor. 

“You don’t have to lie to me, Seungie,” he looked back up at you. You spread your legs apart, “What if I told you I felt the same way?” Heeseung swallowed, eyes trailing down to your bare legs, shorts riding up your crotch, “Come here, Hee.” 

Heeseung pushed himself off the cabinet and walked up to you. 

You tilted your head, “Come closer.” You shot your eyes down between your legs and back up to his face. 

Heeseung took a step back, “No, we can’t do this.” 

“Jake won’t find out,” you whispered, reaching up and grabbing the collar of his tee shirt, pulling him between your legs. 

You wrapped them around his hips, locking him into place. You kept your fingers on his collar, pulling him closer, “You’re so cute when you’re flustered,” you teased him, blowing your breath onto his glasses, watching them fog up. 

Heeseung shot his hands to your thighs, “Don’t tease me,” he whispered, the fog lifting off his glasses, revealing his blown-out eyes. 

You scooted yourself closer, your ass barely hanging off the table, and pulled him even closer with your legs, his hard length now pressing to your stomach. You smirked, “A little excited, are we?” 

Heeseung’s hands slid up your thighs, squeezing and yanking you closer, shifting himself to press his length to your heat, “I told you to not tease me.” 

You snaked your hands up to his neck, playing with his hair, “I have to be honest, I didn’t call a meeting. Only you.” 

Heeseung cutely giggled, thumbs rubbing the plush of your skin, “Only me?” 

You nodded, “Come closer.” 

Heeseung leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, “I want to kiss you so bad…can I?” 

You brushed your lips back, “Can I tell you something first?” 

He rocked his hips against you, “Anything.” 

“How did it feel?” Heeseung moves away a few inches, looking at you in confusion, “How did it feel to stab me three times and leave me for dead, Mr. Ghost face?” 

His hand was now in your hair, pulling your head back and a yelp escaped your mouth. 

Everything about Heeseung changed. His body straightened out, face from relaxed to hard, jaw locked and eyes piercing. You looked up at him in fear, and he just laughed. 

“You finally figured me out huh?” even his voice was different. It was no longer the cute bubbly tone, but now it was chilling and cold. He pulled your hair back further, giving you no choice but to look at him, “Or should I say, the original figured me out.” 

You swallowed, “Why did you do it? I trusted you.” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Heeseung smirked, lifting his other hand from your thigh and caressing your face, the watch you’ve seen before sitting on his wrist perfectly, “Why did I do it? Do what? Gotta be more specific.” 

You’ve done this dance before with Jake, “Why did you commit those murders? Why did you stab me?” 

He smirked even wider, “Because it was fun,” his voice sent chills down your spine, “And for why I stabbed you?” he leaned forward, brushing his nose to your jaw, “Because I wanted to watch the love of my life bleed out.” His breath formed goosebumps on your neck and he chuckled, gently planting a kiss on your neck, “It was so easy to convince Jay to break into your apartment,” he stood back up, “All I had to do was threaten your life. You have a lot of crazy people in your corner, don’t you, sweetheart?” 

You took a few deep breaths in, trying to stay calm, “You wanted Jake to suffer, why?” 

Heeseung leaned back inches away from your face, “Because he has something that I want, a few things, actually.” He ran his hand back down to your thigh, snaking his fingers under your shorts, “Where is he, by the way? Does he know where you are right now? He is a crazy fucking dog after all.” You glanced over Heeseung’s shoulder. 

“This crazy fucking dog is right behind you,” Jake hissed, a knife now pressing to Heeseung’s throat, “And I suggest you back the fuck off my girlfriend before I start barking and slit your throat.” 

Heeseung released his hands off you, slowly backing away with Jake, “Where the fuck did you come from?” 

Jake chuckled, patting Heeseung’s back, “This is my office, you don’t think I don’t know every inch of this room from top to bottom to hide in? For a serial killer, you’re fucking stupid.” 

Heeseung gritted his teeth, “Go to hell.” 

Jake pressed the blade more into his skin, “It’s crazy how you were able to mimic everything I did, even down to the weapon and clothes, stalker much?” 

“Had to learn somehow,” Heeseung countered with a smirk, “At least I succeeded in almost killing YN, versus you folding the minute her legs were spread.” 

“Watch your fucking mouth!” Jake barked, “I will spill your blood so fucking fast don’t try me.” 

The rage Jake was feeling at this moment, the rage that was boiling, and every instinct telling him to slide Heeseung’s throat for the hell he’s put him through. For hurting you. 

Heeseung laughed, “Your buttons are so easy to push when YN is involved.” 

You pierce your eyes into him, “If Jake doesn’t kill you, I will!” 

Heeseung tilted his head back, “Like how you almost killed Jay?” 

That statement was enough proof to show Heeseung had access to your cameras, he was watching the entire thing unfold. 

“Anyway,” Jake clicked his tongue, “Where is your sidekick?” 

Heeseung chuckled, “My what?” 

Jake sighed, “Should we ask Sunoo about it instead? I know he’s outside that door. Ain’t that right, Sun?” 

The door opened and a smiling Sunoo walked in, “Figured us both out that easily?” 

“We figured Heeseung had help,” you said, pushing yourself off the table and picking up his backpack and placing it on the table, “Jake and I discussed this plenty at the hotel room we’ve been in the last couple nights, that he had to have help. Heeseung was too calm while Jay’s phone was getting spammed. Heeseung didn’t even have his phone out. How did he receive those texts?” 

You opened the backpack, seeing a laptop, one textbook, and the ghost face mask. You looked at Sunoo, “You’re the one who sent the texts to Jay and helped Heeseung track us at all times. You have your own mask too, don’t you? Hiding it in the investigation room?” 

Sunoo kept his smile, “It was there,” he shot his eyes to Jake, “But I’m assuming it’s no longer there.” 

Jake smirked, “You think I’d let some fucking copycats steal my thunder? Nah.” He removed the knife from Heeseung’s throat, and pushed him away, quickly grabbing you and pulling you to his side, “Besides,” Jake chuckled, wrapping his arm around your waist and looking down at the knife, “All the evidence I have against you was already turned into the police. Sunoo’s gear too. And now that we have your gear,” Jake tossed the knife to the table, “The cops have everything they needed.” 

The sounds of running filled the hallways, enough proof that the police had finally arrived. Heeseung and Sunoo didn’t loosen their glares off you and Jake even as their wrists got cuffed and they were dragged out of the office. 

Jake pulled you into a hug, his breath hitching, “It’s over,” he whispered in your ear, “It’s finally over.” 

You hugged your boyfriend tightly, “I’m proud of you for not killing him.” 

Jake chuckled, “Trust me, honey, it took a lot to not.” 

A few investigators questioned you and Jake, then sent you on your way. You and Jake were able to walk home freely with no worries. 

Heeseung and Sunoo were on the news that night, video footage of them being pushed into the police cars and being hauled off, the newsman discussing each murder case, including the ones Jake committed. Each victim is named in tribute to the killer finally being caught. 

You laid on top of Jake on your shared couch, the bandages from his stab wound Jay gave him peeked out of his hoodie. You traced your fingers over it, “Does it still hurt?” 

Jake shifted his gaze from the TV to you, “Not as much as what it felt like when I thought you’d died.” 

You traced your fingers over his face, stopping at his lips, him kissing the pads of your fingers. 

“You won’t have to ever feel that feeling again,” you reassured him. 

Jake nodded, wrapping his arms around you, “I know. I won’t let anyone harm you again,” He pressed a kiss to your forehead and softly chuckled, “I am proud of you for how you lured him in, his shyness and awkwardness might have all been fake and an act, but the way you reeled in him and played with his feelings? Those were so true. You should be an actor, for real.” 

You roll your eyes at him, “I want to be an investigative journalist, don’t have time for acting.”

Jake cupped your face and kissed you gently, “And you’ll make one hell of one too.” 

The kiss went from passionate and soft, to deep and hard. Jake pulled your and his clothes off until you were both bare and you straddled his lap, riding his cock and pinning his hands above his head against the armrest. Jake was a moaning and gasping mess as you continued to ride, letting you have full control. 

You smiled down at your serial killer, watching as his brows furrowed and eyes shut tightly when he came. 

Everything was perfect and how it should be.

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[spookieloverslittlemind]

Someone else flirts with you…

includes: Michael Myers, Pinhead, Brahms Heelshire, Art the Clown, Sun and Moon (fnaf), Marta (Outlast 2)

Michael

Taking Michael to a Halloween party seemed like a good idea at first, it was one of the only places his “costume” doesn’t appear out of place. It was a good night, for the most part; you got to introduce Michael to your friends, explaining (depending on how well you know them) that Michael was mute/not speaking as part of his “costume”, and of course Michael recognised all of your friends from what you’d already told him of them. He stuck by your side - a shadow - for the duration of the night, dark gaze fixed on you as you laughed with your friends, completely at ease despite the presence of the intimidating shape. That was, until someone stupid approached you and your friends at the bar, and tried to hit on you. It didn’t matter the nature of the flirtation, whether it was crude or polite, that person’s fate was sealed. Michael’s head very slowly turned to them, then back to you, and you gave Michael a look that he understood well. You were giving him the go-head, but within reason. With that, Michael left the party one minute before the rest of you and your friends did, so that he could wait outside for the fucker to follow you out. When the person did, Michael was there.

The next morning, there was a particularly disturbing article on the frontpage of every local newspaper pertaining to a gruesome murder of some “poor soul” found disembowelled in an alleyway behind the bar. Most notably, missing a tongue. Michael ensured that person wouldn’t flirt with you again, even dead.

Pinhead

The notion of someone “always being with you” is usually meant in some spiritual/emotional sense to reassure, but in Pinhead’s mind that’s an entirely literal sentiment and he proves it to you regularly. There you were, getting groceries, minding your own business when you were approached by someone. Before they had even uttered a word, a sharp wind blew from a portal that had materialised between you and the person, chains flying from it and grabbing them by their limbs, dragging them into a circle of Hell with a scream that was cut-off by the portal suddenly closing and disappearing entirely. You sigh heavily and continue your shopping, but when you get home? You’ve got questions.

“Someone tried talking to me today.” You mused thoughtfully as you and Pinhead tidied away the groceries into your kitchen, speaking in a tone that made it obvious you knew what he’d done.

“They did.” Pinhead didn’t even bother to hide it.

“Yeah, and they didn’t even get a word out before they were snatched from this dimension by some familiar-looking chains.” You turned to raise an eyebrow up at Pinhead, crossing your arms over your chest accusingly.

“Perhaps they did not need to speak. Perhaps…the nature of their thoughts spoke loud enough.” Pinhead answered as he looked down at you, holding your gaze deliberately until you scoffed.

Nobody even needs to flirt with you for Pinhead to send them packing. To Hell.

Brahms

You had a job persuading Brahms that you need to call a professional out to fix the plumbing in the old-fashioned mansion you now share with him. When he’d insisted he could try and fix it himself, you gave him a look that had him hanging his head at his towering height. Not taking kindly to strangers, you promised Brahms you would deal with the plumber while Brahms stayed behind the walls, following through the house to make sure he was there if anything went awry. And awry it went.

Unfortunately, Brahms hiding in the walls and the mansion being otherwise silent caused the plumber to assume you lived alone and were, therefore, single. At the first insinuation of that, Brahms was close to punching a fist through the wall, but you were quick to correct the plumber and assure that your boyfriend would be home “any minute”. You had hoped that would be enough, but alas. The second the plumber flirted with you outright, the walls began to shake with the heavy thuds of Brahms’ footsteps, and you let your head fall to your hand with a sigh.

“You should’ve taken the hint.” You told the plumber, and by the time you lifted your head, Brahms was filling the doorway, breathing heavily.

He waited there for you. Waited until you walked up to him, at which point he stepped aside, allowing you to pass so that you were safely out of the room. And while you heard the screams of the damned, you started preparing dinner.

Art

Art has never cared about being inconspicuous, so anytime you suggest getting takeout in the early hours of the morning, Art is always happy to accompany you, no matter who sees him. He’ll get the bus with you, drive you places, walk the streets. It gives you the confidence to go out in just your pyjamas when you’re walking next to your deranged-and-immortal clown boyfriend, because the attention is never on you, and you prefer it that way.

So when you go to get pizza one night and the guy at the front desk offers you more than an extra topping, you’re looking over your shoulder at Art - who had been standing at the display windows, breathing on them and drawing penises onto the condensation on the glass. Art turns around and pretends to laugh very enthusiastically, clapping his hands in silent glee as he skips over to the front desk. On his way over to you, Art flicks your nose endearingly, and you grab the pizza boxes to take them outside. Leaning against the building and looking up at the stars, you wait for all of thirty seconds with a slice of pizza hanging from your mouth, before Art joins you. Deliberately jumps through the door to startle you, of course, and giving you a thumbs up. Looking back through the display windows, you can see the decapitated staff member’s head pressed against the penis drawings on the glass. Suck on that, Art signs.

Sun and Moon

Unbelievably, even in the Pizzaplex while doing your job, you are not safe from being flirted with by unwanted presences. Being one of the few hired to assist the animatronics with caring for the children, you are assigned to the daycare to help the kids warm to Sun and Moon - because they’re a pretty big animatronic and some of the younger children are instinctively frightened - and at the end of the day, parents collecting their children often feel more comfortable thanking you than they do the animatronics, for looking after the children. One said parent took thanking you a little too far, and when you politely rejected their flirtations, they didn’t take that for an answer. You could see Sun across the daycare, entertaining the last of the children waiting for their parents to collect them, but he stilled on hearing that parent. Bending his knees, Sun launched himself into the air, and in the time it took him to stand behind you, Moon had taken over.

“A parent should know better than to be so naughty, you are not setting a good example! It would be a shame if you said nighty-night and never opened your eyes again, but these things do happen…” Moon growled lowly above your head, towering over you from behind.

“A-Are you threatening me?” The parent stuttered with wide eyes.

“Bad children must be punished. Bad grownups must be…” Moon giggled mechanically to himself, gesturing for the parent to skedaddle, which they abruptly did.

After closing time, Sun and Moon spent the entire night arguing with each other about whether it would be morally wrong to hunt and kill that parent for flirting with you and consequently leaving the child fatherless. In the end, Sun rationalised that was not a good plan, and Moon sulked.

Marta

It’s pretty rare you’d encounter a scenario where anyone has the opportunity to flirt with you in front of Marta, and even rarer an opportunity that Marta acknowledge it. Among feminine presences, compliments to you are praises to God’s gift, as far as Marta is concerned, so she takes no issue with those unless they make you uncomfortable enough for her to notice. But, if a remotely masculine person says anything other than pure words with innocent intention? Not even to you, but in front of you?

“God give me voice, God guide my hand…” Marta raises her axe and brings it down with unseemly might, straight into the groin of whoever said something she didn’t like, and you’re quick to cover your eyes.

“Marta! It was only a compliment to my dress!” You tried to defend the poor soul who had already been taken from this life.

“Speak with a tongue of sin in the presence of the righteous one; the dress that hides your modesty, that protects you from foul seed…” Marta continued to ramble as she lifted her free hand, tilting your head up by your chin to leave a kiss on your brow.

[champagnefountains]

So...Alastor went missing for a while after the extermination right? Would you be open to a story where the reader is taking care of Al after he gets back? Maybe still a little mad at him for vanishing, more worried about him being hurt...just the fall out that comes from not knowing if he was alive or not? Your first Lucifer story was wonderful!! You really have a solid foundation for this and I'm excited to see more from you!!

Aw, thank you so much! I'm really, really glad you enjoyed the Lucifer story! And omg, I love this idea...I live for angst so here's some more~!

ALASTOR - H.H.

A/N: They probably were able to rebuild the entire hotel in less than a day, but just to make it more dramatic, I made Alastor's disappearance two days long. Also, I'm not exactly too happy with the pacing here...so I apologise in advance ;-;

Word count: 2.8k+ words (I need to control myself...also unedited, sorta). Genre/other tags: Angst with good ending. OOC Alastor (I think?...sorry...). Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of blood. Talk about loss/death.

After the cancellation of this year’s extermination and Hell's victory against Heaven’s forces, Charlie and the team had spent the next couple of days repairing the damages caused. The team’s morale was as high as ever as they busied themselves reconstructing and making significant renovations to the hotel, their spirits brightening at the prospect of the potential influx of evil-doers to their establishment. There was no doubt that the hotel’s popularity had boomed, as there wasn’t a single soul in Hell that didn’t know about their contribution towards the annual culling. 

However, there was one thing that had been plaguing your mind since the end of the bloodshed: Alastor's whereabouts. Everyone, including yourself, knew that the Radio-Demon was more than capable of looking after himself, considering his high-regarded reputation in all the Nine Circles. However, it’s been two days since the battle and there wasn’t a single trace of him anywhere. And as his significant other, it bothered you to no end. And it wasn’t like you could call him either – Alastor strictly refused to use a mobile phone or any electronic device, no matter how much you pried. He didn’t even make any attempts to reach out to you, whether it be from your own portable radio that he gifted you, or even a small note or letter. Absolutely nothing.

Currently, the hotel has just completed its final transformation with big thanks to Lucifer and Charlie's magical powers and sorcery. With your distress multiplying with every passing second, you couldn't bring yourself to be as excited as the others. You silently excused yourself from the group by the main entrance, wandering off to the furthest side of the building and turning the corner. With a trembling sigh, you leaned against the wall, covering your mouth with your hands as a sob wracks through your body.

You hadn't felt as anxious as you were, in so, so long. It must've been the build up from the months-long preparations made to fend off Heaven to now, that had you overwhelmed. Yes, there was no doubt that Alastor was powerful, but he fought Adam head on – the very first man – which you were able to only catch minor glimpses of in the midst of battle. And that was probably the last time you saw him.

You didn't want to think about the possibility of loss. Because there's no way, right? ...Right? The others were also quick to reassure you plenty of times, sensing your growing unease with each passing day. But it did little to nothing to help ease your nerves. Preoccupied in your own despair, you failed to sense an approaching figure among the shadows.

"'Cher? What are you doing, hiding all the way down here?" A static-like voice called out, causing you to stiffen, "you should be celebrating with the others! You wouldn't want to miss out on such an exciting time!" Eyes widening, you swiftly pivoted yourself to face them. Low and behold, the source of your worries stood before you, all in one piece, smiling down at you with his usual Cheshire-like grin.

"...Alastor?" You weakly called out. Your wavering tone caused the Overlord to raise a brow, mild confusion taking over him. "Yes, my dear?" He asks with a tilt of his head. But it wasn't until he took a closer look at your distressed features that his expression softened a faction. "Darling, you're upset...why are you crying?"

Despite your immense relief, you couldn't help but send him a baffled look. "Wha-Why am I crying? Are you serious, Al?" You spat back incredulously. "You've been gone for two days! Two days! And I didn't know where or-or how you were! Can’t you even imagine how I must've felt when I couldn't find you after the fight?” Alastor only blinked at your sudden outburst. “And you don't even think to tell any of us where you've gone off to! I thought...I-I thought..." Your voice died down as a sob threatened to leave your throat. "I-I thought you were gone."

"Oh, dear, don't be silly," Alastor softly chuckles, fixing his monocle, "it'll take more than those pesky, little angels to get rid of me!" His lanky legs strided towards you, his head shaking in mild amusement. He stops just before you, leaning forward to pat your head reassuringly. Sniffling, you couldn’t help but wrap your arms around his waist, burying your head into his chest. It gave you the reassurance you wanted and needed – it was proof that he was here with you, physically. However, the action unexpectedly causes Alastor to stiffen. You furrow your brows, lifting your head to send him a questioning look.

"...Al? Are you okay?" You worriedly ask, slowly unwrapping yourself to inspect him. Usually, Alastor didn't mind whether you initiated physical contact and vice versa, especially considering that you had been together for a while now. You then glanced behind him and your surroundings in caution – there didn't seem to be anyone watching either, knowing that he wasn't as fond of PDA. 

As you pan your eyes towards his face, you were surprised to see a tensed expression. "N-Nothing to worry about, darling," he says through a forced smile, waving his hand dismissively before sharply pivoting himself the other direction. "Now, shall we go join the others now? They're probably wondering where we've both gone!" Nonchalant, he begins walking off with his hands crossed behind his back. That was...strange. Something was clearly wrong, you think to yourself.

"Al, wait!" You jog towards him, passing and stopping him in his tracks. "Is...is there something wrong?" You worriedly ask. "I just...I feel like you're not telling me something. I-If I made you uncomfortable, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"

You felt your words die in your throat as a noticeably large, wet patch began to form against his dress shirt. You let out a startled gasp. "Wha–you're‐you're bleeding!" You cry in panic, hands raising and twitching in front of you with uncertainty. His expression darkening, Alastor stubbornly shook his head, gently pushing you aside by the shoulder, "Like I said, it's nothing to worry about. It's not but a small scratch! I'll be fine, dear–"

"No, you're not fine!" You interjected, eyes blurring in tears and wavering. Your hands shook as you gawked at the growing stain on his shirt. At that, you didn't miss the way Alastor's lips twitched in presumed pain, as small beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. Gritting your teeth, you reach out to grab his wrist, preparing to pull him towards the hotel's entrance. "Come on, Al. W-We need to get you cleaned up–" A firm squeeze in your hand stopped you in your tracks as you turned back to face him, distressed.

"[Name]. I said I'll be fine," he sternly says, his voice contorting in static. Despite the sinister grin he displayed, it left you unfazed. You pinched your brows and balled your fists in frustration, staring at him in disbelief. "...What the hell is wrong with you?" You hiss at the deer-demon, "You're clearly not fine–you wouldn't be fucking bleeding right now if you were fine!"

Alastor clicked his tongue, "Darling, you're exaggerating too much, don’t you think? You don't need to fret—"

"Shut up! I-I don't give a damn who you think you are! Strong Overlord or not, I'm worried, okay?! I-I'll always be worried about you!" Angry tears began pouring from your eyes. "I was scared for my life when I didn't hear from you the past few days! I didn't know what happened to you–if you were okay or even alive! I-I couldn't even get a single blink of sleep last night, so don't fucking tell me to not worry!" Alastor's egotistical and prideful personality was not news to you and everyone else – you knew how stubborn he could be, and now was no exception. It was absolutely infuriating.

Alastor's grim expression eased at your growing distress, his stomach twisting uncomfortably as he watched you messily wipe your face. You took a brief moment to compose yourself, your breaths shaky and uneven. "Look, just–I don't want to argue right now, okay?" You hiccup, "i-if you don't want the other's seeing you like this, just...I-I don't know, teleport us inside the hotel somewhere. Just anything, so I can stitch you up properly."

Begrudgingly, Alastor manifested his microphone from thin air. He didn't have any room to argue with you here. He then softly taps the ground with the bottom of the stand twice, casting a group of black shadows from the ground. They surrounded you both in a circular-like motion, completely filling your sights with a black void. There was a brief gust of wind and it didn't take long until they dissipated, the both of you now standing in what was assumed to be your new shared room in the hotel – it was nearly identical to your previous one before the reconstruction, save for the new wallpaper.  

"Remove your shirt. I'll get the kit," you immediately order as you point at the bed, gesturing for him to sit. You then disappear into the bathroom for a brief moment, grabbing the small first-aid kit under the sink before returning to the bedroom. Alastor had already sat himself down the edge of the bed, his dirty button-up and coat neatly folded on the floor, and his chest bare. You grimaced as you eyed the massive, fresh gash across his scarred chest, that was somewhat tended to with poor stitching.

You let out a disapproving sigh. "I expected your patching to be a little better than this,” you comment as you set the kit beside him, taking out some gauze and alcohol. Alastor rolls his eyes. "It's not everyday you get struck by an angelic weapon, dear," he shoots back sarcastically. There was a small stagger in your movement, your jaw clenching as a deep frown settled on your lips. So it was because of Adam that he's in this state, you sourly think. You try to not let the thought affect you too much as you begin disinfecting his wound.

While you were fixing him up, the both of you remained in complete silence. You actively chose to ignore his piercing gaze in the meantime, which practically burned through your skull as you maintained your focus solely on his wound. Your earlier frustrations didn't seem to simmer down either, deciding to keep quiet to prevent another one-sided shouting battle. As much as you loved Alastor, his lack of understanding towards your concerns vexed you to no end. Because, hypothetically speaking, what if he had actually died during his fight against Adam? If his body went missing, you were never going to find the closure you needed and were probably gonna go on with your life not knowing of his whereabouts. Your life would've been completely miserable with the constant grieving. And like Alastor smartly said, it wasn’t everyday that he’d be fighting a divine opponent, so definitive defeat wouldn’t be completely off of the table despite being quite powerful himself. 

The mere thought brought fresh tears to your eyes, which you were quick to blink away. ‘No…there’s no point dwelling in the past and what-if’s,’ you reprimand yourself. Alastor’s here, after all. That's the only thing that matters right now. But regardless, you still remained upset.

After a while and now satisfied with your craft, you neatly applied a bandage around his chest and waist. "...Don't put too much pressure on it for a while," you quietly advised as you began packing the equipment away. You continued to ignore his gaze, knowing that you'd lose your composure if you were to look at him. Without sparing him a glance, you lazily chucked the kit by the bedside table and made your way towards the door. Shortly after, you left the room without another word.

You found yourself aimlessly walking on the balcony facing the bar, near the main entrance. There, you saw Charlie walking up the stairs adjacent from you, who was quick to catch your approaching form. "[Name], there you are! I was just looking for you!" She cheerily says, skipping towards you with excited steps. "Everything looks so, so amazing, can you believe it?! Oh, oh! We all saw Alastor, by the way! I told you he was going to be fine–erm, [Name]?" The Princess forced her banter to a halt upon spotting your swollen, red eyes.

"Hey, hey, what happened?" She softly asks, coming forth to rub your back. You open your mouth to speak but consciously stop to think your answer through. You knew not to speak a word of Alastor’s state at the moment, knowing it would desecrate his persona. So you decide to keep it short and vague. 

"Alastor and I...we, uhm…had a small fight," you briefly explain with a tight-lipped smile. Charlie’s eyes softened in understanding. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did...do you wanna talk about it?” She kindly offers, holding your hand. You shake your head, “It’s alright, Princess. I’ll be okay in due time.” You didn’t want to dampen the overall mood and atmosphere, after all the hard work and sweat shed for this very moment. “Well, I mean, if you’re sure…” she hesitantly replies, giving you another quick look-over. “Say, how about we get you cleaned up a little and we head down and join the others? It’ll help clear your mind a little bit, yeah?”  

Bless her heart, you think with a small smile. With a nod, Charlie dragged you to the nearby restroom, where you splashed your face with water and did minor touch-ups to look somewhat decent. Shortly after, you joined the others by the main lounge, who all cheered and welcomed you with open arms. All the while, your mind automatically wandered to Alastor, who you knew was dwelling somewhere within the hotel. 

After a couple hours of celebration, you all decided to retire for the night, exhausted from the day's work. Charlie had sent you off with a small hug, wishing you luck as you slowly made your way back to your room. You felt your heart thump loudly against your ears as you spotted your room number in the distance, which only intensified as you reached for the knob and opened the door.

With a deep breath, you entered the room and to your surprise, you found Alastor where you had left him. However this time, he was already in his night-wear and was comfortably sitting upright and against the bed frame, legs under the covers and reading some book. He made no effort to acknowledge your presence as he hummed a random, sweet tune, licking a finger to flick a page of the novel he was supposedly engrossed in. You didn't know what would've irked you more – the fact that he wasn't addressing you right now or alternatively, if he were to go on about his day in his usual chirpy-self, and not bring up what had happened. Reciprocating his behaviour, you wordlessly went to the bathroom to do your usual night routine and changed into a comfortable set of pyjamas. When you were done, you beelined towards your side of the bed, stiffly slipping under the covers with your back facing him and pulling the covers close to your face. 

The tension was dripping as the room filled with an uncomfortable silence. You unconsciously found yourself pacing your own breaths, as if you were worried that you were breathing a sound wave too loud. You also didn't move a single inch from your spot, remaining stagnant like a statue. It remained that way for a short while, unable to find a single blink of sleep or tiredness, just as you did the past couple days.

“Darling, I know you’re awake…” Alastor says, finally breaking the silence as he shuts his book with a soft thud, placing it by the bedside table. There was a brief pause, as if he was waiting for you to say something, but you didn’t. You listen intently in silent anticipation as you dug yourself further into your pillow.

“I…I wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. It wasn’t in my intentions to upset you,” he continues, “I didn’t mean to carelessly dismiss your concerns the way I did. I understand that you’re merely worried for me. After all, if had it been you in my place instead, I would’ve acted the same way, if not more. And I’m sorry for troubling you these past few days. It was due to my carelessness that made you disregard your own health and caused you so much distress. With that, I want to express my utmost gratitude to you for looking after me despite it all. I…I hope you can forgive me, darling.” 

It was simple and straight to the point. And yet, his words struck a chord with you, causing a new onset of tears to flow and dampen the bed sheets. Alastor wasn’t one to easily admit his faults and apologise the way he did, so his words had so much of an impact on you. Though you had your own few questions to ask him, you suppose that this was enough for the time being as you didn’t want another day to go by, remaining in conflict with each other. You turn yourself to face him, sitting up and tearfully looking up at him. Silent, Alastor looked back down at you in a hopeful manner, his usual grin on his face. “O-Of course, I forgive you,” you quietly replied as you carefully hugged his side, “I-I just…I want you to look after yourself better. I-I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself if I had lost you then.” 

Huffing in relief, he softly snickers into your hair, running one of his claws through its strands. “Like I said, you won’t lose me, my dear. I’ll even wreak havoc across all of Hell to get back to you,” he cheesily coos as he nuzzles his nose into your neck. You wetly chuckle at his remark, leaning into him closer. “That’s quite a huge commitment to make, Al. You promise you gonna keep your word for it?” you jokingly reply, playfully poking at his chest. Grin widening, Alastor boops your nose with a single digit, “that’s a guarantee, darling.” 

[impale-me-radio-daddy]

Heaven Spent

℣ Pairing: Vox X angelic!reader

℣ Summary: A naïve angel descends to Hell looking for Vagina. Finds Vox instead.

℣ Content notes: Voyeurism, first time for everything, explicit sexual content, thigh riding, guided masturbation, Vox being Vox, pet names: mostly sweetheart, babydoll and baby, reader is a girl, reader has a pussy and tits, reader has a name and it's a fucking stupid one.

Now has a sequel: Hell 2 Pay!

You weren’t a real exorcist, not really. You didn’t pass the wingspan requirement for a start, or, as the Lieutenant never ceased to remind you, the strength requirements. You were never getting selected into one of the lucky squads who got to go down to Hell and do battle with demons. But you had begged to join, and everyone needed someone to sweep the floors and do laundry, and so, that was you, swooping through the exorcist barracks with a mop and bucket while everyone around you trained in combat.

Most of the exorcists didn’t even acknowledge your existence. You were invisible, inaudible, the help. The big exception to the rule was Lieutenant’s strongest soldier, Vagina. You would see her training tirelessly, on the practice grounds after all the others had left, and bring her a fresh towel and a pitcher of iced lemonade. She would smile at you. She knew your name. When you started talking about something that interested you, she didn’t tell you to go away or walk off.

In all of Heaven, Vagina was the closest thing you had to a friend.

And then, one day, the squads had come back from their battles with the forces of Hell, and she had been gone. No-one had wanted to look you in the eye, no-one even mentioned her name. Gone. Dead? No, Vagina was Heaven’s strongest soldier, you’d heard Adam say as much. There was no way she could be dead.

Had they left her behind? Every day your thoughts were plagued by thoughts of Vagina stuck behind enemy lines, Hell’s forces doing terrible things to her. And of course the Lieutenant wouldn’t send more exorcists after her; how could she risk Heaven’s forces for the wellbeing of a single soldier? But you? You were disposable. You were no asset to Adam’s forces, your wings so malformed that you could barely fly, and with Vagina gone there wasn’t anyone who would miss you on a personal level.

With your access to the exorcists’ laundry, it was easy to assemble a makeshift uniform for yourself, a spare sword strapped to your waist as you lined up with the departing squads. The masks disguised everyone’s faces, so no-one looked twice at you. You filtered out the chatter of the exorcists around you as you watched the portal to Hell open, a glowing circle with a core of deep red.

You would find Vagina, and return to Heaven with her, useful at last. Maybe the Lieutenant would be so impressed that she would make you a full exorcist.

Vox slurped his kale and spirulina smoothie as he watched the descending horde of angels through fifteen distinct drone feeds. This year’s purge was uncharacteristically quiet in the Vee tower; Valentino was doing some sort of romantic make-up dinner with one of his sluts and Velvette was organizing some sort of augmented reality event where sinners ran the length of the city taking selfies without getting killed by exorcists, which left Vox holding down the fort.

One of the systems gave a beep as it picked up an anomaly. Now that, that was interesting. It looked like the pack had a straggler this year. Vox picked a drone to fly closer, opening a channel to Velvette as he did so.

“-you better not be taking the piss, Vox. I’m sort of a tiny bit busy here, if you hadn’t noticed.”

“Hear me out, this could be big,” said Vox, and Velvette gave a snort but went quiet. “Any of your fuckheads out near the west side of the pentagram?”

One of your wings was bigger than the other. That was just how it was, just a little defect that made it difficult to fly, and almost impossible to fly long distances. When you had asked about it, Saint Peter had patted you on the shoulder and told you that everyone was special in different ways. And you had accepted that. Some people got beautiful singing voices, or brains that could do mathematics faster than anyone else’s, and you got one wing that was smaller than the other, primary feathers growing in with a slight curl that meant your flight was wobbly and exhausting.

And that was just part of God’s plan.

What was not part of God’s plan, it seemed, was for you to keep up with the squads of exorcists descending to Hell. They sped up as they passed through the portal, the pack quickly speeding up to a pace that your wings could no longer carry you at. You found yourself drifting behind, panting as you beat your wings to correct your uneven path.

Strangely, you didn’t see the forces of Hell rising to do battle, but you supposed you were inexperienced in this sort of thing. The last time you’d even swung a sword had been at the exorcist tryouts. Giving up on catching up with the pack, you hung back, your wingbeats slowing as you surveyed the city below from your wobbly vantage point. You should find somewhere to hide, you reasoned, until the battle was over and you could look for Vagina safely.

Finding Vagina in Hell was harder than you would have guessed. Even after you shed your exorcist disguise and folded your wings away, people didn’t really want to talk to you, and when you started asking about Vagina, faces turned covetous, and people started asking for money. Which, of course, you didn’t have. You didn’t need money in Heaven, why would people want it in Hell? But everywhere you asked, the answer was the same. If you wanted to know about Vagina, you needed money. And if you wanted money, well, you needed a job.

That's how you found yourself in a line of sinners three miles long, for an open audition for a spokesperson for something called Angelic Security, a subdivision of something called VoxTek. You weren’t going for the audition itself, but a sinner had offered you money to queue for them, and queuing was a pretty morally decent, angel-appropriate act. You knew how to queue. You could queue for days.

You were queuing when a fish demon with a VoxTek nametag walked past, on a video call with someone important, the other side of the conversation blaring out the speakers of his tablet as he held it up to his face.

“Listen, do you have any idea how fucking busy I am today? Whose crackpot idea was this anyway? No, don't answer that, I don't fucking care. Just pick the three at the front and, uh, that one, no, the hot one with the gray skin.”

“Whatever you say, sir.” The fish demon glanced over his shoulder at you, making a beckoning gesture as the man on the other end cut the call.

You pointed to your chest with a silent me? and the fish demon nodded, walking on without a backwards look as you trailed along after him.

“Actually, I was holding a spot in the line for someone else, they were going to pay me money, if you could let me borrow a phone, I could -” you scurried to keep up. “-you know I don't think it's really fair that someone’s paid me to keep their place and now I'm going in with you, isn't that against the rules?”

“Look, lady.” The fish demon held out a hand as he waved the other candidates over, to grumbling from the other people in the line. “I'm not paid enough to deal with your drama shit, save it for the casting director.”

“Are you really going to leave all those people out there?” you asked quietly as the assistant let you through the security gate at the front of the building. “Some of them have been waiting for days. It doesn’t seem fair.”

The man shrugged. “What can I say? Welcome to Hell.”

Out of a lingering sense of guilt, you let the three women who had been in the front of the line go into the audition first, so that when you were called up, no-one was waiting. The casting director turned out to be the tall demon in the shirtsleeves and sweater vest that the dour fish had been talking to on his tablet. He had a large, rectangular head, and was handsome, in a striking sort of way.

He was sat on a bench against the wall of the audition room, elbows on his knees, and he looked up as you came in, watching you walk, an eyebrow raised.

“H-hey.” You gave a little wave. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. You see, I was saving a space in the line for someone else, but the assistant told me to come in here, and, you see, I was hoping that maybe I could phone the person, and, um, maybe they could do the audition?”

“You have no idea who I am, do you?” The television headed demon gave you a sidelong grin.

“I'm really sorry, but I don't.” You bit your lip, mentally preparing for a lie. “You see, I'm kind of new here.”

“Oh yeah? How long since you, y'know?” He made a vague hand gesture, getting to his feet.

Oh, darn. You had no idea what a good number would be here. You furrowed your brow. So if the universe was about ten thousand years old, and the average human lived to one hundred and twenty years old… a reasonable amount of time for a newcomer to have been in Hell was…

“Oh, not long. Only about three hundred years.” You plastered a big smile over your face, hoping Mr Television bought your deception.

“Oh, only three hundred you say? Wow, you are new, huh.” He smiled back at you, and you did a quick internal fist pump. Success! You were a natural liar! At this rate, you'd be able to find Vagina and be out of Hell in no time flat.

“My name's Vox, by the way. Like the company.” He snapped his fingers, and the tagline VOXTEK: TRUST US scrolled across the big screen on the wall of the audition room. He tilted his head. “What's yours?”

“My name?” You blinked. It had been a very long time since you'd had to introduce yourself to anyone not already aware of your name, and everybody in Hell just seemed to enjoy making up rude epithets for you, so you hadn't bothered with introductions. “My name's, uh, Areola. Like the -” you paused, unbuttoning your shirt.

Vox stared at you, frozen for a second before he raised a hand to cover yours, halting your struggling fingers. “You don't need to whip them out, dollface. I know what a boob is.”

“Y-you do?” you stammered, part of you thankful and a smaller, more sinful part disappointed, the touch of his fingertips on your hand like fire against your nerves. He was probably down here for one of the carnal sins, the sins of the flesh Chastity was always warning the younger angels about. “Of-of course you do, silly me.”

“Can I call you Ari?”

You’d always hoped the other angels would give you a nickname like that. Like Vagina was called Vaggie by her squadmates. But everyone in Heaven who called you by any name at all called you Areola, even Vagina did. To have Vox just give you a nickname like this, apropos of nothing, seemed too good to be true.

“Y-yeah! I’d like that. A lot, actually.” You swallowed. “You’re the first person who’s been nice to me here,” you admitted.

Vox shrugged. “I’m a nice guy, most of the time. I can afford to be. You want the job?”

“What?” You blinked. “B-but I didn’t audition. I w-wasn’t even in the line.”

“It’s not a hard job, if that’s what you’re worried about,” said Vox, holding out his hand. “You take a few photos, record a few infomercials, and bam, you’re done! You won’t even have to run your own social media profiles. And the money-”

“I’m really sorry, Vox, I-I can’t.” You took a step backwards, hands raised. “I-I should go. I don’t want to waste any more of your time.”

You ran.

You ran without thinking, heart in your throat, past the security doors, away. Taking something that wasn’t yours was stealing, even if someone offered it to you. You should never have gone inside. Hell was terrible and confusing, and you wished that Vagina was here. She would know what to do. She would have said something tough, and made Vox do the right thing. She wouldn’t have run away. You stopped, panting for breath, and realized you had no idea where you were. You were down an alley, a crowd of curious sinners behind you.

“Hey, it’s that bitch who cut the line.”

“Thinks she’s better than us.”

Oh, this was bad. You took a step back, reaching for your angelic sword with a trembling hand.

Velvette’s face looked down at Vox from the big screen on the wall where the tagline had scrolled, thirty feet wide. “That’s seriously who you’re gonna hire as the new Angelic Security mascot? You have to be fucking shitting me.”

Vox rolled his eyes. “Velvette, she is a real, literal fucking angel. I challenge you to think of a more appropriate pick.”

“It’s your subsidiary, so whatever.” Velvette pursed her lips. “I just hope you know that I’m not costuming her dumpy arse.”

“Your concerns are duly noted,” said Vox, redirecting his attention from the call to his nearby drones. “Now pipe down. I need to focus.”

Vox gave a small sigh as he transferred a small portion of his conscious mind to the drone that hung in the air over the dispersing line of would-be auditions, looking for your face. He flitted from security camera to security camera, searching for a telltale flash of white and grey.

Truthfully, he hadn’t expected you to be so naive. Exorcists, from what data he had on them, were hardened killers, who regarded sinners as scum to be cleaned up.

Vox hadn’t spent a lot of time with exorcists, but he had spent a lot of time with killers, and his guts told him you weren’t one. Which was weird, but he could work with that. He just needed to make sure that no-one else got to you before he did.

“Alleyway behind the old munitions factory,” said Velvette from above him, sounding bored. “There’s three pissed off old slags about to shiv your new pet; someone’s streaming it.”

Fuck. Vox grimaced, switching his attention to the feed. Sure enough, there you were, fear on your face as three taller sinners made you back up against a wall, your hands out, pleading. “I’m gonna cut the signal. Make sure nothing goes viral.”

Travel by lightning was fast, but it wasn’t instantaneous. Vox manifested in a flash of ozone to see two dead sinners, you with your sword through the guts of a third. Your eyes were glowing gold, unseeing and dangerous, a splatter of blood across your face.

“Ari?” Vox ventured, keeping his voice as low and calming as he could.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, oh-” You yanked the sword from the guts of the woman who’d been about to stab you, and oh goodness that was a lot of blood that was gushing out of her. You looked in horror at Vox. “I didn’t-” you started, then stopped. The one person in this place who had been kind to you, and he had to see you like this? These sinners weren’t even soldiers; they just looked like regular people, and granted they had tried to murder you, but that didn’t mean they deserved to die.

“Hey, babydoll. Easy, now.” Vox approached you his hands out, calming.

You were a murderer now; the police would catch you and you’d have to go to Hell jail. You didn’t want to go to Hell jail; the food was probably terrible and you’d never be able to find Vagina. The back of your throat hurt at the hopelessness of it all. You stared at Vox, your vision wobbling as tears formed.

“You’ll be okay, shit, uh, let’s get that big knife out of your hand-” Vox’s blue talons were on your fingers, prying them from the hilt of your sword as he moved in, and you resisted for a second before his coaxing moved you and you let go, surrendering the sword into Vox’s grasp as his other arm wrapped around you. “You’re gonna be okay, I got you.”

Pressing your face into the fuzzy material of Vox’s sweatervest, you gave a big, ugly sob. You clung to him as you cried, vaguely aware of his arm around you, his claws petting your hair. Oh, you’d ruined everything now. He probably thought you were pathetic.

“I’m really sorry,” you mumbled against his chest. “Y-you should probably hand me over to the police now, so you don’t get in trouble.”

“Excuse me?” Vox’s tone was incredulous.

You sniffed, blinking more tears from your eyes. “You know, the police? Since I committed three murders?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Vox breathed, looking down at you, his claws carding through your hair. “There aren’t any police in Hell. Well, there are lots of cops in Hell, sure, but no police force.”

“B-but I just, I just-” you motioned to the bodies in the alleyway behind you. “How will I be punished?”

“Oh, fuck me, you’re adorable.” Vox covered his face with a hand. “You’ve had a long day, babydoll. Let me take you home, and you can have a bath, and a change of clothes, and maybe then we can talk about your problems, yeah? I’m sure we can come to some kind of arrangement.”

No-one had ever been this nice to you, even in Heaven. Part of you wondered whether Vox was in Hell by mistake, and you nodded, slowly, face against his chest again as his hand moved to the small of your back.

“You’re bringing a fucking exorcist to our fucking living quarters?” Valentino’s eyebrow raised above the frames of his pink glasses. “Are you fucking stupid? Or just thinking with your dick?”

“Look, I’ve just gotta win her trust, okay” Vox leaned back, analyzing Valentino’s surroundings through the videofeed. He was in his studio, which was a good thing. There was also a visible lovebite on the exposed skin above Val’s second set of arms. Which was good; it meant Valentino and his on-off squeeze were on talking terms.

“So you can fuck her?” Valentino took a drag on his cigarette, pink smoke briefly clouding the lens of the camera.

“Uh, so she’ll fucking work with us.” Vox sighed heavily. “You have a one track fucking mind sometimes Val, I swear.”

“But you are gonna fuck her, aren’t you?” There was a gleam in Val’s eye now.

“First of all,” said Vox, holding up a finger, careful with his volume so that his words didn’t travel to you ensconced in your bubble bath in the next room. “I don’t recall putting you in charge of where I put my dick. And secondly, fuck you.”

Valentino laughed, good-natured. “Alright, papito.” He grinned, gold tooth flashing. “I’ll take my Angel out somewhere else tonight, you have fun with yours.”

They compared calendars before Vox closed the call, grumbling to himself. All things considered, it could have gone much worse- if Valentino hadn’t been in a good mood, he might have decided to be jealous and that would have been a pain in the ass. Valentino’s instincts weren’t wrong, either; the big moth had been around Vox for too long to not have picked up on his preferences. The combination of dangerous power and lack of worldliness just did something for him. And then there was your body.

Vox chanced a peek through the security cameras as you climbed out of the bath, a sneak preview, he told himself, growing hard in his pants as he took in the soft lines of your thighs, the crest of downy feathers that covered your pudenda, snowy white to match your hair. Fuck, but you looked soft all over, as if his hands would sink right into you. Vox cut the feed with a groan; if he kept on watching there was a good chance you’d walk in on him jacking off over the video, and that wasn’t really the impression he wanted to make. No, he needed to be trustworthy, a good guy, someone you felt you could work for. Someone you’d trust your soul to.

And Vox might be a voyeur, but he could keep it in his pants if he needed to. Business before pleasure.

Vox was right; the bath did help. Warm water cradled your body, the panic that had wracked you flowing out of you. You added bath salts, and bubbles, and stayed in there much longer than you really needed to, feeling the dirt that had accumulated on you since your descent into Hell float away. Vox’s tower was the only place you’d visited in Hell so far that had been clean, all shining chrome and expensive polished black granite. Finally, you climbed out, even your conscience feeling cleaner than it had when you had started, and grabbed a towel so fluffy that felt like it had been imported from Heaven.

The outfit that Vox had left for you was modest and well-fitting, a soft wool cardigan with a camisole and blouse to go underneath and a pleated a-line skirt that reached your mid-calf, all in eggshell colors that complemented your grey skin. Even the underwear was perfectly sized, and you tried not to think too hard about it- you were pretty sure that one of VoxTek’s subsidiaries was a fashion company of some sort, and Vox had probably guessed.

“Hey, Ari.” Vox gave you a smile as you stepped out, and you found yourself smiling back at him. “You feeling better? I ordered us Dim Sum.”

“I, uh, yeah. Thank you.” You pushed your hair behind your ear. “For everything.”

Vox’s smile only grew. Your plan had been to thank him for his help and leave, but he’d gone to the trouble of organizing you food already and leaving would be rude and the little steamed buns he was offering you smelled very good, so you found yourself sitting with him, listening to him talk about the food as he piled different items onto your plate. All of it was delicious.

“-and you need to try this one, it’s got the spicy shrimp paste, I don’t know how you are with spice, so it might come on a bit strong for you, but it’s worth it, trust me.”

You nodded, your reflexive oh no, I couldn’t dying on your lips as you smelled the bun, the delicate scent of the shrimp coupled with a dark, sweet undercurrent. You bit in, the gummy texture of the outer dumpling giving way to something coarser and more savory; perfectly cooked crustacean flesh that leaked juices when broken, in the paste that Vox had described, which imbued a richness and a sweetness both at once. It had a spice that began as an ache on the back of your tongue, and built and built upon itself, until you were salivating almost painfully and yet somehow wanting more. You closed your eyes, your jaw stopping to prolong the moment.

“So.” Vox picked his moment to lean in, face perilously close to yours. “What do you want, Ari?”

You, was your embarrassing, gut instinct response, thankfully stymied by your mouth full of dumpling. You chewed and swallowed, which gave you time to think. Vox was trustworthy. He’d been nothing but kind to you. He wanted to help. “I had- have a friend,” you said, feeling your pulse quicken. It was a risk, telling Vox. If he figured out that you were an angel, you’d be in big trouble. “She’s in Hell, somewhere. I’m looking for her.”

“I’m pretty good at finding people,” said Vox, his expression sympathetic. “Maybe I could help?”

You shook your head, the taste of the dumpling still lingering on your tongue. “I can’t ask you to do that. You’ve already done so much, and I’ve got no way to repay you. I don’t even have money.”

“I’m sure there’s a way we could help each other,” said Vox, unperturbed. “Money isn’t everything, after all. Let’s think about it, see what we come up with, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you echoed Vox, nodding slowly. “You’re really nice to me,” you added, with a small frown.

“And is that a bad thing?” Vox asked, his screen tilting. He picked up the second of the shrimp paste dumplings with his chopsticks.

“No,” you admitted, quietly.

“Then,” said Vox, holding the dumpling out to you, not to your plate this time, but to your face. “You should accept it, yeah?”

Your face flushed from grey to white as you came to the realization that Vox’s intention was to hand feed you, a warm sensation in your stomach that had nothing to do with hunger. Cupping your hands under the dumpling to ensure none spilled, you opened your mouth. Again the outer shell of the dumpling was gummy against your lips, and you held it gently between your teeth so that Vox could withdraw his chopsticks. He looked happy as you chewed, and you told yourself this was nothing untoward, simply the demon being a good host.

“We should watch a movie,” he said, chin in his hand as he watched you chew. “I’ll let you pick.”

Hell, it turned out, or at least Vox, had a much wider selection of titles than were available in Heaven, and you hesitated to pick. In the end, Vox quizzed you on what you’d seen and what your favorites were, and picked something out. His earlier demand, of accept it, let me be nice to you, stuck in your head, overriding doubts that you might have expressed. You’d been warned, in Heaven, about the dangers of fraternization. How two people, watching a movie together alone, could fall into sin. But you’d never done anything like that, and Vox seemed nice.

When Vox patted the sofa next to him, you hesitated, and so Vox grabbed the bucket of popcorn he’d made and placed it by his thigh, a barrier between you.

“Better?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

You looked at the popcorn. “It won’t stop us kissing,” you joked, a small smile.

“You can kiss me, if you like,” Vox returned your grin. “I won’t mind.”

He wasn’t joking, you realized, a surge of warmth through your core that caught you unguarded. “Isn’t that a sin?”

“Kissing?” Vox raised an eyebrow. “I’ve read like five, six versions of the bible and I don’t think any of them said shit about kissing.”

“Oh.” You swallowed, feeling your face turn from gray to white in a blush.

Vox didn’t do more than to open the possibility for you, but that possibility remained, playing at the periphery of your mind as you watched the movie with him, his arm looped easy round your shoulders, the bucket of popcorn the only chaperone stopping your hips from touching his. You could lean over, and just kiss him.

Waiting until he was engrossed in the film, his slim side profile showing to you, you leaned in, pressing your lips to the plastic of his screen’s casing. The material was smooth, the edges angular, and strangely warm.

“Heyy. What was that?” Vox tilted his head to you, an amused cast to his lips. When you didn’t answer his grin widened. “Did you just kiss me? In the middle of the movie?”

You tore your gaze from his, embarrassed. “Y-you said I could,” you protested, adding a belated, “sorry.”

“But kissing is usually a two-way thing,” said Vox, leaning in.

“I didn’t kiss your face,” you said, very factually.

“You didn’t,” agreed Vox, pushing a strand of hair back from your ear, the sharp edge of his talon tracing over sensitive skin. “So I won’t either.”

Vox leaned in, the bucket of popcorn chaperoning you threatening to topple as he drew his lips to your ear. The close proximity of his screen was enough to make your skin tingle, and you drew in a breath and held it, an uncomfortable pulse building between your legs as he took his time, breath hot over your neck and the shell of your ear. You didn’t dare tell him to hurry up, didn’t dare tell him to stop, not with how his mere proximity had you quivering, until at last you felt his lips, ghosting over your earlobe, teasing the soft flesh between them. Was it still a kiss, if his lips were now wrapped around a part of you, and sucking. Oh, Heavens. You bit back a noise, warmth pooling in your core as Vox’s tongue teased the circumference of your ear.

“Vox!” you squeaked, and he let you go, grinning.

“Try kissing my face next time. Or not, your choice.”

You went back to the movie, trying to tamp down the sinful thoughts that were spinning through your head. He didn’t deserve to be thought of lustfully like this. He was a really good guy- he was just trying to watch a movie with you and you were thinking lewd thoughts about him. You were an angel, for crying out loud: you were meant to be better than this!

His lips had felt so good, his tongue even better, a crackling spark that licked against your nerves. What would kissing his lips feel like? What would that tongue feel like, inside your mouth? Vox’s arm was back over your shoulders, his blue claws bright against the white of your blouse. You could touch his hand. Holding hands wasn’t sinful. People in Heaven held hands all the time. Hesitantly, you reached for his hand, your fingertips stroking from his wrist and over the back of his hand to his knuckles.

“You gonna kiss my hand next, babydoll?” asked Vox, his voice low and teasing.

“N-no,” you squeaked again, voice rising in pitch as your throat constricted.

Vox exhaled, glancing over at you, his thumb catching your exploring hand and stroking along your index finger. “Something the matter?”

Oh, all you could think about were the possibilities. Oh his lips on yours, his hand skating down over your shirt to encompass your breast. “I’m having sinful thoughts about you,” you confessed.

“Ohh?” Vox raised an eyebrow. “Lustful thoughts?”

Slowly, you nodded, shamefaced. “I’m really sorry. I know you’re just being a good host, and you don’t deserve me objectifying you…” you trailed off.

Vox just smiled. “I think I deserve to know exactly what lustful thoughts you were having, don’t you?”

“I was thinking about your fingers in my mouth,” you breathed out, though that was the least of your inner debauchery.

“Like this?” Vox asked, trailing blue talons up the side of your neck, over your jaw, and over your lips. You opened your mouth reflexively, and Vox slipped two fingers inside. Oh, fudge. Your eyes fluttered closed, a noise in your throat as Vox’s fingers explored, gentle as anything against the surface of your tongue, your cheek. “Were you thinking about them anywhere else?”

Face hot, you nodded, Vox’s fingers still inside your mouth, pulling at your lower lip slightly as he rocked his wrist back and forth.

“You gonna show me?” Vox asked, his voice still teasing, and with a shaking hand, you gestured to your own breasts, cupping them through the fabric of your blouse. The heat in your core was almost unbearable now, an embarrassing wetness pooling in the gusset of your panties.

“Get in my lap, babydoll,” said Vox, his voice soft as he withdrew his fingers from your mouth, a string of spittle trailing from your lower lip as he did. “I wanna do all the things you were fantasizing about me doing.”

Oh, you wanted this, you wanted this. So badly that it was a pulsing ache, an insistent drumbeat between your thighs. “Th-this is definitely sinful,” you said, hesitating.

Vox made no move to force you, sitting back a little on the couch. “Does it matter?” he asked, his tone going from sultry to playful again. “We’re both damned, after all.”

“R-right.” You swallowed, cursing yourself for your earlier lie. He waited, quiet, the movie playing forgotten on the big screen in front of you, until you moved the popcorn bucket to the floor and climbed onto his lap, your skirt bunching up around your knees as you straddled his legs.

“Well, heyy there beautiful,” growled Vox, looking at you, a finger pushing a strand of hair from your forehead, and you felt your face break into a smile. He crossed his legs, one over the other, so that his top thigh was flush with the gusset of your panties, smirking at you when his leg made contact. “Sitting comfortably?”

“Your leg… feels nice…” you managed, lamely, struggling for words. The pressure felt exquisite, the folds of your labia squashing together in a way that made you profoundly aware of the pulsing between your legs.

“Oh yeah?” Vox didn’t tease, and you were grateful. “You wanna stay like that? You maybe wanna rock back and forth a bit?” As if to demonstrate, he pushed his thigh up between your legs, against your gusset, and moved it side to side. You found yourself giving a soft whimper at the sensation. “It’s okay, baby,” said Vox, his voice soft and coaxing. “You can rub against me.”

You shouldn’t, you knew. You knew you should climb out of Vox’s lap, leave the feeling of his thigh between your legs behind, ignore the slick pooling in your panties. You should apologize for taking advantage of his generosity as a host, for even thinking about using his body in such a sordid way. You didn’t, though. Instead you canted your hips back, grinding your sex against the tensed muscle of his leg, finding warmth and friction and pleasure.

A shameful little whimper escaped your lips, and you felt Vox’s eyes on you, intent. “You don’t mind?”

Vox looked pleased with himself. “I invited you here, didn’t I?” He reached to your chest, tracing the lines you had traced when you had cupped your own breasts, the sensation of his claws through the fabric of your shirt leaving a tingling in its wake. You rocked your hips again, finding a slow rhythm, the sensations seeming to layer one atop the other, Vox’s talons moving up again, circling first one of your nipples and then the other, bringing each one to a sensitive point. “Do you wanna get them out for me?” he asked, voice low and gentle.

He withdrew his hands and your skin seemed to ache at the lack of him. “Will you touch them, if I do?” you asked, your voice small.

“If you ask me to,” said Vox, hands smoothing over the fabric of your skirt, over your thighs. “Otherwise if you want, I can enjoy the show. You want me to touch them, Ari?”

He used your name, not an epithet, his eyes on yours, and you felt the flush that bloomed on your cheeks, the flutter in your chest joining the pulse between your thighs as you continued to pleasure yourself on Vox’s thigh, each slow movement of your hips grinding the juices that soaked your panties into Vox’s slacks. Fingers trembling, you unbuttoned your blouse to your navel, then unhooked your bra, letting the straps fall from your shoulders, leaving your breasts exposed, nipples peeking over the lacy edge of your camisole. “Please,” you answered, feeling very exposed considering how little you were showing.

Vox pulled down the edge of your camisole with one talon, admiring his handiwork with a grin before his hands cupped your breasts, thumbs tracing soft circles around your namesake, your areolae. You made a noise in your throat, grinding hard against Vox’s thigh, and Vox gave an answering growl.

“Is that a good noise, babydoll?” Vox asked, gravel in his voice now. “You like having me squeeze your tits as you rub your pussy on my leg, huh?”

Shamefaced, you nodded, and Vox leaned in, a shift in his grip on your breasts pulling a moan from you. You froze, uncertain, as Vox lowered his wide rectangular head to your chest. As he had with your ear, he paused before his lips touched the skin, already tender and puckered from his fingers.

You whimpered, heat pooling in your core as you ground yourself wantonly against his leg, wet fabric against wet fabric, and Vox groaned, his breath hot over your breast. “Good girl,” he murmured, taking your nipple between his lips and sucking.

No amount of Heavenly chastity infomercials could have prepared you for how your next moments felt; Vox’s mouth first on one breast, then the other, the gentle tug of his teeth, the electrical lash of his tongue, all of that competing with the feel of him between your legs as you rode his thigh, your rhythm ascending from steady grind to desperate canter as sensation built and built. You found yourself pleading, losing rhythm as you jerked against Vox’s thigh, answering moans from Vox vibrating through your flesh as he suckled at you, your world narrowing to that scant handful of sensations. You cried out, feeling something inside you seize, and your eyes fluttered closed, your hips stilling.

“Vox,” you squeaked, uncertain.

“Heyy. Hey hey hey.” Vox lifted his face from your breasts, pulling your torso flush with his, his arms around you, his legs uncrossing. “I’ve got you.”

As before, his embrace was a comfort, and you found yourself pressing your body against his, your eyes squeezing shut. “There’s something inside me, it just twitched, it’s still-”

You felt Vox’s body tense against yours, and he tilted his screen to look at you, an error message flashing up that he hastily dismissed. “Sweetheart,” he said. “You, uh, you mean to tell me that you don’t know what an orgasm feels like?”

Your eyes snapped open, your core still throbbing. “That was an orgasm?”

“Well, uh, your heart rate spiked, and your pupils are dilated and your blood pressure is dropping now,” said Vox. “So yeah, seems likely.”

“I’ve never-” You sank against Vox, feeling weak.

“You’re making me feel like a real piece of shit, you know that?” Vox pressed his palm against your back, rubbing circles. “Your first orgasm and I didn’t even fuckin' kiss you first.”

“You could kiss me now,” you said, peering up at him, shy.

Vox gave a bark of laughter, a grin creeping back onto his face. “That a request, babydoll?”

His tongue in your mouth felt as good as you’d feared it might.

Click here to read the sequel

[skipper1331]

Lost and found // Patri Guijarro

a/n: based off this request. Please enjoy :D

"Shit!" looking though your bag, you frantically searched for your keys. "Shit, shit, shit" You've looked in every opening of your bag but just couldn't find it. Everything important was on your bunch of keys, car keys, keys to your apartment, for the garage, keys for your childhood home, everything. "¿Qué pasa?" your favorite spaniard asked as she walked to you after seeing your stressed out face. She placed her hand on your back, an innocent act to calm you down. "My keys! I don‘t where they are!" Defeated you sat down, arms crossed. Where had you put them? "Why are you so stressed? Here, there they are" Patri wiggled with them in front of your face, grinning.

"Ah! What? How?"

"Maybe you should check your jacket the next time" the midfielder whispered in your ear, answering your question. She pressed her lips against your temple for a quick peck before she walked back to her cubby, Mapi and Alexia sharing a look.

-

"Fucking hell" you grumbled, looking for your phone. You could‘ve sworn you had it a second ago. You searched in the kitchen, your bedroom, the bathroom, everywhere. The only phone you found was Patris which was in the kitchen. As you entered the living room the spaniard sat on the couch, some movie playing in the backround. Your hands rummaged around on the couch, desperately looking for your phone. "What‘re you looking for?"

"My phone" you whined, turning around every cushion while the midfielder started to laugh. "Here," she gave you your phone which she had in her hands the whole time. How did you not notice? "I asked you if I could play my game on your phone and then you gave it to me"

Embarassed, you slapped your hands on your face, hidding behind them. How could you forget that? Patri was obsessed with that one game you had on your phone, she always asked if she could play and you never say no. "Don‘t hide that beautiful face of yours" her hands placed themselves on your hips, pulling you down so you sat on her lap.

The two of you weren‘t together but also not just friends, there had been a few sneaky, stolen kisses yet nothing more. "You can‘t keep losing your stuff, one day you‘ll get lost yourself" she whispered, her thumb drawing circles on your hip.

"I‘m trying" you mumbled as your head fell on her shoulder.

-

"But I had it the whole time" Patri told Pina, Mapi and Alexia in their native language. She found it too amusing how you dramatically looked for your phone yesterday. The three spaniards laughed at the story. "maybe you should help her look again" Pina stated as you rummaged through your bag.

"No! No, no, no" full of worry, you searched for your shin pads, you needed them.

"Wanna bet in 5 seconds Patri finds what she’s looking for?" Mapi challegened her team mates "we know you would win, look" la reina replied, nodding her head in your direction.

"They‘re made for each other, don‘t you think?" the young striker asked. Mapi with a mischief smile on her face looked at Alexia, her patner in crime, before she answered, "Sí"

-

"Not again!" you were angry and annoyed. No, this time it wasn‘t your phone what you‘re looking for nor your keys or any football related stuff, you‘re missing your headphones.

You unpacked every single thing out of your bag - nothing.

You looked in your jacket pockets - nothing. Trouser pocket - nothing. (They wouldn’t have fit in there but you looked there anyways)

Where could they be?!

"Cariño, what‘re looking for this time?" she smiled sympathetically at you. Sometimes she thought you would lose your head if it wasn't attached to your body. "My headphones!"

She took a step towards you, her hands went around your neck, not touching it though, but the headphones that were around it. She pulled them up, placing them on your ears. "There you go" she whispered, her hands now resting at your neck. "Thank you" you gazed in her eyes, the most beautiful you had ever seen.

"They would kiss each other If they weren‘t in the locker room" Mapi stated.

"They‘re clearly in love" Pina chipped in.

"I can only agree" said Alexia.

-

Please pick up, please pick up

"Y/n?" the sleepy voice of Patri rasped through the phone "Patri!"

"Do you know what time it is? It‘s 3am!"

"I‘m sorry, okay? But i- i don‘t know where I am and my phone will die soon" within in seconds the spaniard was wide awake, already out of bed. "What?!"

"I’m lost. Please can you get me?"

"What do you see?"

You told her about your surroundings - she knew where you were. Immediately, she ran to her car. Why the fuck would you be outside at 3 in the morning? Alone! She was furios. She ignored the speed limit, there was hardly anyone on the streets at that time anyway. Her only concern: you. How could you be so stupid and go out at that late at night. It‘s dark and your sense of direction was as good as Mapis signing. Horrible.

You sat on a bench, waiting for Patri, there was barely light, the only one came from the moon. When a car pulled up, you turned around but didn't get up. A few cars had already passed you, none of them the girl you‘re waiting for.

The car stopped abruptly as she drove onto the path which lead to you. An angry Patri stormed out of the car towards you. "Are you crazy?!" the spaniard shouted as she walked to you, "What were you thinking?" The girl was angry, more than angry. You opened your mouth to explain but- "Don‘t! Get in the car" crushed, you looked at her but followed her command, your head hung low, your eyes fixed on the floor. That was until you realized someting "no, please, no" you whispered, your hands went in all your pockets - no keys. "Don‘t you dare to say you‘ve lost your keys" Patri said as she saw how your hands went in every pocket.

"I haven‘t lost them, they‘re at home"

"Dios mío, Y/n! One time, one time where you don‘t lose your stuff!"

"It‘s not my fault!" Now, you were getting upset. You get that she was mad at you because you woke her up and she had to drive here but there was no need to yell at you for being forgetful - you weren‘t forgetful per se you just lose your stuff and don‘t know where it was. "Who‘s fault is it then? Hm?"

"Mapi‘s!"

"¿Que?"

Now, the spaniard was confused. Why - How could it be Mapis fault? "If she hadn‘t said that stuff, i would be in bed!"

"You lose your stuff quite often huh?" the spanish defender asked as she took a seat beside you. "And Patri always knows where it is" you looked at her confused, what was she talking about? "Kinda like soulmates, don‘t you think?" she slipped her arm over your shoulders "you‘re in love with her, aren‘t you?"

"What?"

"And she‘s in love with you" she was smiling at you but you couldn‘t tell If it was a nice one or the smiles where after that blackmail would come. "It‘s cute, you know, everyone knows you’re made for each other."

"What are you talking about?"

"Gosh! You‘re always on my mind! And today was no difference but that Mapis words haunted me. That I‘m in love with you and that you’re in love with me, that we‘re soulmates because I always lose my stuff and you find it," you couldn’t stop talking, everything bubbled out of you, "I- i couldn‘t sleep so i went for a run or a walk - i don‘t know and then I got lost. I didn‘t know who to call so I called you. Look, I know you’re mad and I know it‘s three in the morning but please stop yelling at me." you were walking up and down, trying to catch your breath.

"Are you? In love with me?" she took a step towards you, stopping you in your track as she placed her arms around your hips. "Gosh Patri! We kissed one- multiple times nothing more. Don‘t be so cocky" you couldn’t describe how you felt, you felt angry and upset and so caught up in your thoughts.

"I am in love with you" she pulled your body against her own before she pressed you against the car. "I‘m in love with you since the first time you lost something" her eyes met yours, yourself still rambling about Mapis words, your own feelings and the key you had forgotten at home. "You hear me?" She pushed herself more in to yourself, her hand up to rest on your cheek - you stopped talking. "I‘m in love with you. And those kisses weren‘t nothing. They were everything," she whispered against your lips, an inch away. You could feel her breath, "i don‘t care If you lose stuff but i care about you" pulling back again, a respectable amount of space between your lips. "Do you know how terrifying it is when you get a call at 3am from the girl you love who‘s telling you that she‘s lost!" her voice got louder before it got more quiet again, "Amor, I was worried not mad at you about waking me up" your mouth agape, not believing what she‘s saying. Your brain couldn‘t process everything, only the one thing that was the most important "you love me?"

"Yeah, of course I do"

You lunge forward, pressing your lips against the spaniards, a kiss so desperately needed. Your hands grabbed her neck, pulling her impossibly closer, her hands around your waist, tightening every now and then. It was euphoric. "I do, too" you whispered against her mouth before pulling her back in.

Lost and found.

————————

[pantherpilled]

the boys with an older (afab) partner

nsfw + sfw below the cut :P

price

• price doesn’t even acknowledge you being older. you’re still his little lady, his honey baby, his tiny gal.

• princess treatment as usual; doors held open, tying your shoes, serving your food, walking on the outside of the sidewalk, anything to keep his baby love safe and sound.

• still enjoys being called sir or captain, age be damned.

• he quite likes that you’re older than him, he finds the small crows feet and smile lines so indescribably beautiful, you wear your age like the finest jewelry and it’s all it takes for him not to kneel down and kiss at your feet.

• he WORSHIPS you, he takes his time with you in bed, making sure to kiss every single centimeter of your body, not a sliver of skin goes without love.

• pleasure dom 100%, all that matters to him is you get off enough times that you feel stars and see tingles.

ghost

• also doesn’t acknowledge you being older than him at all

• he’ll pick you up bridal or let you climb up on his back when your heels start hurting your feet after parties, banquets or club nights.

• before you, he never went to the club, and he especially hated when his girlfriends would go, but you taught him how enjoyable it can be just to be within someones presence.

• so, now he goes for you, to watch your skin beam with the rainbow of flashing lights, almost-hear you singing along to the bass heavy booming music, feeling your body sway and slide against his when you finally get him to stop standing behind you like a scary bodyguard and dance.

• something about the way you look, the way you move, it’s all so elegant and pristine to him. he was always one to say perfection was unattainable- and here he is, with you, perfection in a woman, having attained it for himself

• can i be sooo real rn i love brat tamer simon, and i feel like its only better when you’re older than him

• he’s got you bent over his knee on the edge of the bed, stripped naked, tears soaking into the sheets as he lands smack after smack on your ass cheek

• he’s so taunting, too. he’ll make you count and if you mess up, “oh, sweets. old enough to make these decisions but can’t handle the consequences?” “poor thing, can’t even count now”

• you like to rub it in his face that you’re older, and he likes to wipe that shit-eating grin off your lips by replacing it with choked moans of his name

• he’s gentle when he wants to be but a majority of the time he’s rough, timing harsh, skin-slapping thrusts with the brutal circles of his thumb on your clit, practically tearing the orgasm from your nerves before you had a chance to process how close you were

• he won’t stop until you’re crying, begging, pushing him away from your spent body after so many orgasms you lost count, hell- even he lost count, and keeping count on how many times he can force you to let go for him is part of his fun

soap

• he’s the most playful about it, calling you a cougar and saying he loves milfs all the time

• youre not a mother, but when he gets you in bed for the first time and becomes aware of a breeding kink he didn’t know he had, he wants you to be

• he’s very vocal about it from the get go, has your cheek smashed into the plush of his pillow, his sharp hip bones smacking loudly against your ass as he babbles in your ear, “could make’ya ta prettiest mama, all swole wit’me littles”

• he does not miss the extra tremble in your thighs at the words but he doesn’t say anything about it either

• he calls you mama, mum, or ma all the time. originally you assumed it to be because you were older, but now you wonder if it’s because he’s just that desperate to make you a mother

• he takes his role as ‘younger boyfriend’ VERY seriously

• YES he lost his debit card again, ma, can he pleases use yours? he’ll pay you back triple as soon as he gets back to the base, he just really wants a chocolate bar

• NO he did not wash the dishes like you so kindly asked him and when you confront him about it, he’s rushing to you like a hurt toddler

• “ma ma ma, not ta worry- was waitin’ta after breakfast so ye didn’t have tae do those ones”

• even if his excuses don’f work, he knows how to get you mewling and crying out for him loud enough that you forget your dish concerns

• “so worried ‘bout some plates,” he’d scoff, timing his perfect thrusts with his words, “all’yae needed was sum’a this”

gaz

• calls you ma’am when you first meet, and you almost want to take offense to it just to spook the poor boy but the way his eyes glint as he checks you out has you rethinking how much of a ‘boy’ he is

• even after you get together, he always calls you ma’am

• “let me get that for you, ma’am”, “a moment, ma’am?”, “ma’am, if you don’t mind-,”

• loves being praised- good boy, sweet one, pretty baby. it all makes his cheeks pink and his cock swell

• he’s a fairly gentle lover, washing your body with kisses and whispered praises before slowly stretching you to size with his fingers

• he leaves marks but theyre light, overly nervous to hurt you, same reason he stays so slow and soft with his thrusts- but he doesn’t realize it just gets frustrating after a while

• he finally bites down on your skin when you push him over and climb on top, taking control of the pace and rhythm, overwhelming him for a short second just from the sheer difference of his weak thrusts from before

• he grabs and squeezes and pinches and pulls at the fat on your hips as you ride him, grunting out any praise he can think of

• “so pretty up there”, “that’s it, sweetpea”, “c’mon angel baby”

(i have a crush on a guy younger than me and im projecting:3)

[hunnysnoops]

˗ˋ𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕟𝕤ˊ˗

Chapter Thirteen: Circles

Kyle Broflovski x fem reader

You took my hand and then we both started running. There's no place to go.

Also available on Ao3 and Wattpad!

Premise: While you’re enjoying your new relationship with your boyfriend, it doesn’t come without its troubles

Warnings: smoking / suggestive

MASTERLIST

Walking through the crowded school hallway, you and Bebe laugh about the latest gossip circulating through the breath of students. The morning sun filters through the windows, casting a warm glow on the bustling students. Bebe tugs at your sleeve, pulling you closer as she recounts in detail each beat of how Dakota cheated on David.

You spent the whole summer anticipating the fall when you would be back in classes and bending over backwards to keep your grades up but now that it had finally rolled around, you missed summer and swore that you would be forever happy if it had been endless.

As you pass the lockers, you spot Kyle leaning against his, scrolling through his phone. Your heart skips a beat. It's been a couple months since you and Kyle started dating in secret, keeping your relationship hidden from friends and family. You liked to think you had kept the secret well, you had always been sneaky. It was your family you were worried about finding out, however, your friends have extremely large mouths a not a single thought they keep to themselves. 

Bebe continues chatting away, unaware of your sudden distraction. You slow your pace, letting her words fade into the background as you focus on Kyle. When he looks up and catches your eye, a smile spreads across his face and that is enough to melt you like butter.

You glance at Bebe, who's now frowning and looking between you and Kyle with a puzzled expression. 

"Hey, pretty princess," You say casually to Kyle, watching his smile drop immediately.

"What did you just say?" His eyebrows furrow and he's sure that he misheard you. He closes out of Hay Day momentarily to give his full attention to you.

"I said 'Hey, pretty princess'," 

"Don't call me that," Kyle tells you with a straight face. You were well aware of how much pet names made him want to crawl out from under his skin and chug back drain cleaner. The most you had ever gotten out of him was the lone time he called you babe and immediately went back on it. 

Your boyfriend telling you that pet names were annoying was a sure-fire way to make sure you call him every possible one you can think of "Okay, baby girl," 

As you walk past him with Bebe and towards that cafeteria you can feel his horrified gaze resting on your back. Moments later you can feel your phone buzz in your pocket. 

New Message- ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️)

ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️): You're not funny 

You: damn

ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️): I thought you didn't want your friends to know?? 

You: Yeah?

ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️): so why are you flirting at school? 

You: u think that's flirting????????????????

You: Who the hell raised u??????

ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️): bro

You: lose this number 

ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️): lmao

You: mf I see you down the hall

You: u r not laughing ur ass off 

ugly piece of shit (boyfriend❤️): bro

read at 12:47

You glance back at Kyle and quickly stick up your middle finger even though he is now focused on his conversation with Stan. The two of you weave through the throngs of students, sidestepping backpacks carelessly left in the middle of the hallway and dodging the occasional elbow. The walls are plastered with colourful posters announcing upcoming events: a pep rally, a bake sale, and field hockey tryouts. 

Bebe's voice rises above the din, drawing your attention back to her. She's talking about a new show she started watching, her excitement palpable. You smile, appreciating the way she can make even the most mundane topics seem fascinating. Her laughter rings out, a clear, bright sound that makes a few heads turn, but she doesn't seem to notice and if she had, she definitely didn't care.

"I swear to god, he looked like such an idiot," Bebe speaks animatedly "I think he's trying to go viral or something but he would only go viral for being so corny." 

"Yeah?" You feed into the rant.

"Yeah," She confirms "He stood on his desk today and made Emmet film him while he yelled something in some language I don't know. Seriously, I don't think I've ever seen Mrs. Miller so mad." Her face lights up with recollection "Oh! Except for that time, Eric brought a flask into class. That was so weird."

As you near the cafeteria doors, the noise level increases. The cacophony of clattering trays raised voices, and the occasional shout creates a symphony of chaos that somehow feels comforting in its familiarity. You push through the double doors, the cool air from the cafeteria's industrial-strength air conditioning hitting you like a refreshing breeze.

Inside, the room is a sea of faces, some familiar, some not. You scan the room briefly, looking for a free table. Bebe tugs at your sleeve, pointing towards a spot where a little handful of your friends are sitting. You follow her lead, navigating through the maze of tables and chairs, finally reaching your destination.

The moment you sit down, Annie perks up "Did you hear about Dakota and David?"

"Yes!" Bebe almost jolts up, she leans toward Annie while you reach next to you and take a tater tot from Nichole's tray, if she was bothered by this act, she gave no indication. You weren't sure you were hungry enough to wait in the lunch line for subpar food that would be cold by the time to got back to the table. 

Across the table, Red had a slice of pizza in one hand, her phone in the other, she didn't even look up when you sat down. She tended to have one foot in the real world and the other in her own realm.

"So, what's everyone doing this weekend?" Nichole asks, a small smile playing on her lips.

Before you can answer, Red casually says "Well, I'm sure she'll be hanging out with Kyle."

"Jeez, I feel like he's replacing me," Bebe mockingly pouts. 

"Yeah, why are you guys so buddy-buddy lately?" Annie turns not just her attention to you but the rest of the group in addition.

"Because they're dating," Red still doesn't look up from her phone. While the group falls silent, she huffs a quiet chuckle at something in her feed.

You feel the air go still, the background noise fading into a dull hum as all eyes turn to you. Your heart pounds, and your mind races, desperately seeking an escape. 

Bebe's eyebrows shoot up. "Kyle? You and Kyle are a thing?"

You force a laugh, shaking your head vigorously. "No, no, Red's just joking around."

Nichole leans in, her eyebrows drawn in skepticism. "I dunno, that didn't sound like a joke."

"Red, who told you that?" You look up at her with wide eyes, teeth grinding together in a wild smile that was supposed to mask the agitation that sparked in you.

"Tolkien, he said that Kyle told him after you guys kissed."

"What?" Nichole's eyes flicker between everyone at the table, trying to get a grasp on each girl's reaction. 

"You didn't tell me," Bebe says, irritation clear in her voice. You knew this would be a topic she would dangle over your head. 

"You didn't tell me either," Annie chimes in. 

"Uh, because I'm not dating him," You can feel the panic rising, your cheeks burning with the effort to maintain your composure. "Seriously, guys, it's nothing. Kyle and I are just friends."

Bebe crosses her arms. "Friends, huh? I'm pretty sure friends don't usually kiss."

"I have kissed half of the people at this table," You counter "On gospel, we are not dating."

"You don't give a shit about the gospel. Let me see your phone," Annie snatches it from your hands, expecting to see Kyle on the lock screen but her face quickly contorts in confusion "Is that Jeff Bezos?"

With haste, you grab it from her "No, it's Murr from impractical jokers."

"Why is he your lock screen?"

"Mind your damn business," You answer with discomposure. 

"So, you aren't dating but you did kiss him?" Nichole draws the conversation back to the original topic.

"Erm, no, gross," You say as convincingly as you could which wasn't very convincing at all. "I think he's super fucking ugly, he probably has at least two STDs."

“Bull shit," Bebe says "You didn't deny kissing him like three seconds ago and you've liked him since July."

"JULY?" Annie asks, mouth slightly agape. "You didn't tell me any of this."

"So when did you kiss him?" Nichole presses.

"I didn't-

"She kissed him at Morgan's party," Red answers, putting her phone down and swallowing back the last of her crust.

You have a look of murder on your face "What the fuck."

"It's not a big deal," She shrugs "Someone once told me- eat a snack and drink some juice, you'll be alright."

"Who?" You ask.

"You did when I greened out."

"Right."

"So you did kiss him at Morgan's and you are dating?" Nichole interjects once again to cut to the facts rather than the banter surrounding it.

For a moment you hang in the air like you had paused time to think of an answer but truthfully your friends finding out about your relationship wasn't so detrimental and lying would only spiral into something far worse. "Yeah," You mutter "We're dating."

"Oh my god," Nichole splits into a grin "After all of those years of trying to kill him and complaining non-stop that he was ruining your life?"

"Yup," you say, awkwardly.

"That's really funny actually," Bebe's anger over the fact you kept this hidden was temporarily alleviated by your confirmation. 

"Funny?" You ask. You didn't think your relationship was very funny.

"You have to admit it's funny," She shrugs, brushing a blonde curl away from her face "I was like 78% sure you were serious when you said you rather hang yourself than date him."

Nichole giggles, nudging you. "Was the rope too expensive?"

"No, I tried my best but it snapped," You say nonchalantly, trying to gain back some sort of composure.

It didn't take long for the little group to start shouting little quips to counter the last and ultimately leave you feeling annoyed and somewhat embarrassed as it seemed they would never let up with the teasing. 

You catch a glimpse of Tolkien walking past your table, his usual confident stride carrying him through the crowded cafeteria. He was carrying an assortment of goodies from the vending machine and heading back to his table. It must've been irritation that propelled you out of your seat before you even realized what you were doing.

You weave through the tables, your steps quick and purposeful, until you're close enough to grab his arm. He turns, surprised, his eyes wide as he takes in your furious expression.

"Why did you tell Red I kissed Kyle?" you hiss, your voice low but sharp enough to cut through the noise. You pull him aside, away from prying eyes and ears, and the hum of the cafeteria fades into the background.

His eyebrows furrow "Are you guys not dating? I'm confused."

"Yeah, but I wasn't going to tell people."

"What? Why?"

"Because the haters will pray on my downfall." you snap, your voice rising despite your efforts to keep it down.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He glances around nervously, clearly uncomfortable with your intensity.

 "The haters," You reiterate like it made your point any clearer. 

"What haters? You're not a celebrity." One of the mini chip bags in his arms shifts and he fumbles around to be sure it doesn't hit the ground. 

"Be alert..." 

"What does that mean?" 

"Of the haters," You add.

"Oh my god," He mutters fighting the urge to roll his eyes "I don't know why you're chewing me out when Kyle's the one who told me. Take it up with him.”

That's exactly what you would do. Take it up with him. 

.˙꩜°˖:*࿔ ☼ ࿔*:˖°꩜˙.

While you had every intention of chewing Kyle out for letting the secret slip, things played out slightly differently. You're sprawled out on your bed, your textbooks and notes abandoned in a haphazard pile. Kyle's fingers trail up your arm, leaving a tingling path in their wake. His lips are warm and insistent against yours, and you lose yourself in the softness of his kiss.

Kyle's hand cradles the back of your neck, his touch both tender and firm, guiding you closer. Your hands are tangled in his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingers as you pull him even nearer. The faint scent of his cologne mixes with the aroma of the burning passionfruit candle, creating a heady blend that makes your heart race. Every brush of his lips sends sparks through you, and you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin.

All that matters is the feel of Kyle's lips on yours, the way his hands hold you as if you're something precious, something to be cherished. His thumb brushes lightly against your jaw, a small, almost absent-minded gesture that sends another shiver through you. Every touch, every kiss, is filled with reverence that makes you feel all the more cherished.

You tilt your head slightly, deepening the kiss, your tongue tentatively meeting his. Kyle responds with a soft groan, a sound that reverberates through your body, heightening your senses. His hand tightens on your waist, pulling you even closer as if he can't get enough of you.

Your kisses grow more urgent and demanding. His lips trail from your mouth to your jawline, planting soft, lingering kisses along your skin. You can't help but tilt your head back, giving him better access, losing yourself in the sensation of his mouth on your skin.

His kisses move to your neck, and you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, sending another wave of shivers through you. He finds a particularly sensitive spot just below your ear, and when his lips brush against it, you let out a soft gasp, your fingers tightening in his hair.

"Kyle," you whisper, your voice breathless, filled with a mixture of need and adoration.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes meeting yours, and the intensity in his gaze makes your heart skip a beat. His hair is a mess, neck is littered with hickies that he would surely regret the next day when he would have to steal his mom's concealer to cover them up. He leans in, capturing your lips once more in a kiss that is both tender and passionate, a perfect blend that leaves you almost dizzy. 

His large hands eventually snake their way up your shirt and trail up your midriff to your back. He finds the clasp on your back, pinching the hooks until the bra comes undone completely. 

Kyle leans closer, his fingers brushing a stray hair from your face, and the touch sends a shiver down your spine. You want to freeze this moment, but reality crashes back in when you hear your dad's voice calling for you from the hallway. "Jellybean! Are you still home?" Panic seizes you, and your eyes widen as you scramble to sit up, pushing Kyle away from you.

Your dad was supposed to be at one of your neighbour's barbecues, but here he was- making his way upstairs and towards your bedroom.

"Kyle, hide!" you whisper urgently, your mind racing for a solution.

You glance around, jumping to your feet and awkwardly trying to rehook your bra. Your eyes settle on the closet and you push him towards it. It's a tight squeeze for someone as tall as Kyle, but there's no time to think. He ducks inside, and just as you're about to close the door, he accidentally bonks his head against the top of the frame. The sound is a dull thud, and he stifles a groan of pain.

"Yeah, I'm home!" You call back to your dad, grabbing Kyle's scattered things from the bed and shoving them beneath it. 

Your dad's footsteps draw closer, and you throw yourself back onto the bed, grabbing your phone to feign nonchalance. The door creaks open, and your dad peeks in, his eyes scanning the room.

"Hey, Jellybean," He smiles, leaning against the doorway.

"Hey," You try for a casual smile "Why are you home already?"

"I forgot to grab the t-shirts I made for Earl and the boys," He answers and you nod slowly, waiting for him to explain why he was in your bedroom. “Oh," He fumbles around in his pocket for his phone and briefly taps around before turning the screen to face you "Is this you and Kyle?"

It's a photo of both yours and Kyle's faces that had been strung up on the wall of disallowed entry at the movie theatre. You had almost forgotten entirely of the day that you and he had gone to the theatre with the intention of watching a corny movie and ended up near a simple assault charge that you narrowly escaped.

You shake your head, trying to soothe the adrenaline that began pumping through you "Nope."

"Really?" Your dad furrows his eyebrows, looking at the picture again "It looks just like you two."

"Yeah, it does," You keep your voice as nonchalant as possible.

He holds the phone up in the air, looking back and forth from your face to the screen. After a moment of awkward silence, there's a thump from the closet and your dad looks up "What was that?"

"Eugene, he lives in the crawlspace," You answer, face dead serious.

Your dad shrugs and tucks his phone back into his pocket. "Dang. I outta get back before that brisket is done," He lets out a low whistle at the thought of a juicy slab of smoked meat. 

"Okay, see ya," Relief finally washes over you as you try not to glance back toward the closet. 

Just as he turns to leave he quickly swivels his head back to look at you "Oh, I meant to ask- why is Kyle's car in the driveway?"

"It's not." 

"Oh," His eyebrows furrow for a moment as he thinks and then slowly, he nods "Okay." It was moments like these where it was definite he was Weston's father. 

He leaves, and you let out a sigh of relief, your heart still pounding. You wait a few moments to make sure he's really gone and when you hear the front door click shut, you hurry over to the closet and open the door. Kyle steps out, rubbing his head where he must have bonked it on the closet ceiling. He's tall enough that the cramped space was clearly a tight fit.

You look at the little red spot on his hairline where he must've cracked his head against the frame and suck a breath through your teeth "Sorry." 

"Ow," he mutters, frowning at you slightly. But then his eyes catch on something behind him, and his expression shifts from annoyed to confused. "Why do you have a Rubbermaid that says 'devious licks' in your closet?"

"Oh," You look past him at the bin and then a wide smile breaks over your face and you begin to laugh. You pull the bin out and kneel beside it as you take the lid off. Inside are little trinkets you've 'borrowed' from friends and family over the past few years. You can't help but giggle, finding the whole situation absurdly funny.

"Did you steal all of that?"

"It's just for fun," you say with a shrug, still chuckling. "When I get really mad at someone, I take something from them to inconvenience them." You begin to rifle through the bin, almost reminiscing about all of the things you had taken and the memories attached. 

But Kyle doesn't laugh. In fact, his frown deepens, and he steps back, shaking his head. "That's not funny. It's stealing. That's a crime. What if someone realizes something important is missing?"

"That's kinda the point," You answer. The bin is filled with an assortment of items: a handful of pens, a couple of keychains, wallets, a pair of sunglasses, and various other small objects you've filched over time from more people than you could even recall.

 Kyle bends down, his hair still messy from your fingers slipping through it "What is this?" He picks up a long silver necklace with a large pendant dangling from the bottom "Is this a coke necklace?"

You laugh slightly "Those are Mr. Tennorman's ashes."

"WHAT?" He drops it, instinctively wiping his hands on his pants. "You stole someone's ashes?"

"Yup," You say nonchalantly, still digging through the belongings "It's just Cartman's dad." 

He looks back down, the glimmer of something bronze catching his eye. Immediately, he snatches it from the bin and inspects it, eyes growing wide with horror "Is this my grandpa's holocaust ring?"

You pause, slowly looking up at him "I didn't know it was a holocaust ring at the time." 

"When did you take this?" His voice was beginning to rise and the agitation was unmissable. 

You stop laughing, the light mood evaporating in an instant. You hadn't expected him to react like this. You thought he might find it as amusing as you did. Instead, he's staring at you with a mix of disappointment and anger that makes your stomach twist uncomfortably. "Two years ago when you and Stan were making fun of me after I lost that goal at my soccer game." 

Kyle sighs, running a hand through his hair. He is trying his best to keep his cool, but the pool of misdemeanours below him isn't helping in the slightest. Kyle takes a deep breath in an attempt to sort this through without yelling at you "What's the last thing you've stolen." 

You look around for a moment before holding up a bottle of liquor "I took it last week."

"Oh god," He mutters.

"What? Is it bad?"

"That's a three thousand dollar bottle of tequila," His jaw is clenched and for a moment you think he might burst a vein in his head. 

"Dang, that's expensive," You suck a sharp breath through your teeth 

"You should've thought about that before you stole it."

You shrug "Well, I didn't." 

"That's it?" He asks.

"What?"

"You don't care?" 

"What the hell are you talking about?" You furrow your eyebrows.

"This!" He gestures at the Rubbermaid before dropping to his knees, sifting through the contents "Wallets, wedding rings, perfume, the fucking ornament I made when I was eight," Looking down, he was struck with the realisation that a large sum of the trinkets in the bin had been his at one point or another. "You really don't care that you took all of this?"

"It already happened," You say.

Kyle holds up a familiar scarf, one you remember swiping from a girl in your study group. His eyes narrow as he turns to face you. "What the hell is this?" His voice is low, a storm brewing beneath the surface.

You roll your eyes, trying to laugh it off. "Oh, come on, it's fun. No one even notices."

Kyle's eyes flash with anger. "Fun? You think stealing is fun?" His voice rises, each word punctuated by his growing fury. He steps closer, and you can see the tension in his jaw, the way his fists clench at his sides.

You start to feel the edges of your amusement crumble, replaced by a prickling unease. "Kyle, calm down. It's not that big of a deal," you say, your voice quieter now, trying to soothe the situation.

But he's not having it. "Not a big deal? This is serious! What's wrong with you?" His voice is loud now, filling the room, and echoing off the walls. He's yelling, and it hits you like a bullet to the skull.

You shrink back, your laughter dying on your lips. The air feels heavy, pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe. You look away, staring at the pattern on the bedspread, tracing the lines with your eyes, anything to avoid his piercing gaze.

Silence falls, thick and oppressive. Kyle's breathing is heavy, ragged, as he stands there, waiting for you to say something, to explain. But you can't find the words. They're stuck in your throat, tangled up with your fear and shame. You bite your lip, the taste of copper filling your mouth.

Finally, Kyle lets out a frustrated sigh. "I just-" He pauses "I don't get you," he mutters, turning away, his shoulders slumping. He walks back to the bed and sits down heavily, the mattress sinking under his weight. The music is still playing, the songs flickering by, unnoticed.

You sit in silence, the stolen items now a glaring reminder of your actions, of the chasm that has suddenly opened up between you and Kyle. You want to reach out, to bridge the gap, but you don't know how. So you sit there, quiet and still like you're in a crime scene.

.˙꩜°˖:*࿔ ☼ ࿔*:˖°꩜˙.

You spent hours getting ready, meticulously styling your hair, and carefully applying your makeup. You chose your favourite dress, a soft, flowing fabric that makes you feel beautiful and confident. The anticipation is almost unbearable, your heart thumping with excitement. 

You're standing in front of the mirror, adjusting the delicate chain of your necklace, the pendant resting just below your collarbone. Your reflection shows a girl who has taken extra care tonight to be sure her makeup is flawless, a hint of highlighter accentuating your cheekbones, and your lips painted with a soft gloss. Your dress, a soft shade of blue that brings out the colour in your eyes, fits perfectly, swaying gently as you move. You've been looking forward to this date with Kyle all week.

The sound of a car horn outside snaps you out of your reverie. You grab your clutch, giving yourself one last glance in the mirror before heading downstairs. The evening air is warm, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the trees lining your street. Kyle is waiting by his car, leaning casually against the door, a small smile playing on his lips as he sees you approach. He looks effortlessly handsome, his ginger hair tousled just right, and his eyes sparkling in the fading light.

"You look beautiful," he says, his voice warm and genuine as he opens the car door for you.

"Thank you," you reply, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "You did your hair all nice for me."

As you settle into the passenger seat, Kyle walks around to the driver's side, sliding in with an easy grace. The car starts with a soft purr, and soon you're driving through the familiar streets of your neighbourhood, the anticipation of the evening making your heart flutter. You chat about your day, the conversation flowing easily, but as the drive continues, you notice Kyle taking turns that lead away from the downtown restaurants and cafes.

The drive starts off light and cheerful. You talk animatedly about a new café you've heard about, suggesting it as a possible destination for a study session. Kyle nods and smiles, his responses a bit more subdued than usual, but you brush it off, attributing it to the lingering tension.

As you continue to chat, you start to notice the route Kyle is taking. It's not towards any of your usual spots. The streets become less familiar, and your excitement starts to wane, replaced by a creeping confusion. "Where are we going?" you ask, trying to keep your tone light and playful, though a hint of unease slips through.

Kyle doesn't answer right away, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "It's a surprise," he finally says, but there's something in his voice that makes your stomach twist.

There's a part of you that thinks he's preparing to drive the both of you off of a bridge or dump your body off the interstate from his rigid posture alone. 

You try to guess, throwing out suggestions, but each one is met with a noncommittal hum. The unease grows, gnawing at your excitement. When he finally pulls into the parking lot of the community center, your confusion peaks. "Kyle, what are we doing here?" you ask, your voice a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

He turns off the engine and looks at you, his eyes soft but determined. He reaches out and takes your hand, his touch warm and firm. "I need you to trust me," he says, his voice gentle. He gets out of the car and comes around to open your door, helping you out.

Holding your hand, he leads you inside, the fluorescent lights of the community center casting a sterile glow. Your heart pounds in your chest as you walk down a hallway, past bulletin boards covered in flyers for various local events and activities.

He stops in front of a door with a whiteboard nailed into the wall next to it that reads 'Shoplifters Anonymous Meeting' in purple dry-erase. Your heart drops, and you look at him, your eyes wide with shock. "Kyle, what is this?" you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips.

Kyle squeezes your hand gently, his expression deadly serious. "I know you don't think it's a big deal, but it is. You need help and they can give you that." He nods his head to the room. 

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You open your mouth to argue, to tell him that you don't need this, but the words fail you, something you weren't used to. Truly, you were speechless. 

He creaks the door open, one hand on the small of your back as he guides you inside. "I'll pick you up in an hour," he says softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead. His lips are warm, a stark contrast to the cold shock that has settled in your chest. "Please, just give it a chance."

Before you can protest, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing in the hallway. The door to the meeting room looms in front of you, and you feel like you're rooted to the spot. The reality of the situation crashes over you in waves. Kyle has seen through your facade, past the laughter and the dismissive jokes, to the part of you that you've tried to ignore.

The meeting room is small and somewhat stuffy, the air thick with a mix of various perfumes and colognes. Folding chairs are arranged in a circle, and as you sit down, the cold metal presses into your back, making you shift uncomfortably. Your heart still pounds from the shock of Kyle's ambush, anger bubbling just beneath the surface.

The leader of the group, a middle-aged woman with kind eyes, starts speaking, welcoming everyone. Her voice is calm and soothing, but it grates on your nerves. You clench your fists in your lap, trying to steady your breathing. You don't belong here. This isn't you.

The others begin to share their stories, each one more heart-wrenching than the last. You listen, but the words barely register. Your mind is racing, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. You're furious with Kyle for bringing you here, for thinking you needed this. 

God, you felt like an idiot. You had spent so long getting ready, wearing a pretty dress for your boyfriend just to be shoved in a room with thieves. 

The leader, Ellen, scans the room, and you feel a prick of anxiety as they land on you. "We have a new member today," she says, her voice warm but firm. "Would you like to introduce yourself?"

Your heart pounds in your chest, and you can feel the eyes of the other attendees on you, their curiosity palpable. "I'm not a shoplifter," you say entirely too fast. You weren’t wrong, you were in fact- not a shoplifter though it wasn’t far off from a kleptomaniac which you definitely were.

"That's okay. Not everyone here is a shoplifter either,” Ellen speaks softly "Would you mind telling us why you're here if you're comfortable?"

"I'm just here to observe," you say quickly, hoping to deflect the attention. "I don't really have anything to share."

Ellen nods, but her gaze remains steady, unyielding. "That's okay. We're glad you're here. Can you tell us a little about why you're observing?"

You bristle at the question, feeling cornered. "My boyfriend thought it would be a good idea," you reply, trying to keep your tone light, and dismissive. 

"Why would he think that?"

"He thinks that I have a problem." 

The room is silent, the air thick with unspoken questions. Ellen doesn't let you off the hook. "What kind of problem does he think you have?"

You fidget with the hem of your dress, your fingers twisting the fabric. "He thinks I steal things," you say reluctantly, your voice barely above a whisper. "And I do, but not from stores. It's just some little things from other people."

Ellen's eyes soften, but her expression remains serious. "Stealing, even in small amounts, can be a sign of deeper issues. It's good that you're here, whether you think it's a big deal or not. What kind of things have you taken?"

You feel a surge of anger, a burning frustration that makes you want to lash out. "I don't see why it matters," you snap, your voice louder than you intended. 

Ellen nods, absorbing your words with a calm patience that only fuels your irritation. "Sometimes, we take things to fill a void or cope with stress. Have you thought about why you might be doing it?"

You cross your arms over your chest, your posture is defensive. "I don't know," you say, looking away. "It's not that deep."

"Okay, maybe you'll be more comfortable sharing next time." You didn't intend for there to be a next time. 

The group seems to move on quickly and you wander away from all conversation, finding a nice spot to settle inside your thoughts. It had been years since you felt like this much of a fool. It was about halfway through the meeting when you couldn't take it anymore. 

You push open the door and step into the hallway, the cool air a welcome relief from the stifling room. You make a beeline for the exit. The need for a cigarette is overwhelming, a desperate craving that you can't ignore. Outside, the late day sun is almost gone entirely as night begins to swallow up the sky, making you squint as you search through your bag for your lighter. Panic sets in when you realize it's not there; you must have left it in Kyle's car.

A string of curses escapes your lips as you look around frantically. Your eyes land on a purse left carelessly on a bench in the hallway. Without thinking, you reach in and pull out a lighter, the metal cool and smooth in your hand. The irony isn't lost on you, but you're too angry and desperate to care.

You step outside and light a cigarette, the first drag calming your nerves slightly. You start to walk, the rhythm of your steps a temporary distraction from the chaos in your mind. The smoke curls around you, a familiar comfort, but today it feels different, tainted by the bitter taste of your emotions.

Tears sting at your eyes, and you angrily wipe them away, but they keep coming, blurring your vision. You're furious with Kyle for putting you in this position, and for forcing you to face something you're not ready to confront. But as you walk, the anger shifts, turning inward.

You hate yourself for your bad habits, for the stealing, for the smoking. Each puff of the cigarette feels like a failure, a reminder of all the ways you've let yourself down. The tears flow more freely now, and you don't bother to stop them. You walk faster, trying to outrun the feelings, but they cling to you, weighing you down.

The familiar streets blur as you walk, and you're not sure where you're going. You just need to move, to keep going, to do something, anything to escape the overwhelming tide of emotions. But it's no use. The guilt and shame, the anger and bitterness, they all crash over you, a relentless wave that you can't fight.

You come to a stop, your legs shaking, your breath coming in ragged gasps. The cigarette burns down to the filter, and you drop it, grinding it into the pavement with the heel of your shoe. You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to hold on, to keep from falling apart completely.

You've walked for what feels like an eternity, the community center far behind you. Each inhalation a struggle against the sobs threatening to escape. The cigarette you discarded lies crushed on the pavement and you think about lightning another.

Suddenly, the sound of a car pulling up beside you breaks through the haze. You glance over, your heart skipping a beat when you see Kyle's familiar car. The window rolls down, and there he is, his eyes wide with concern.

"Hey," he calls out, his voice a mix of worry and relief. "What are you doing?"

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek to fight the sob you desperately want to let out. "Just stop." 

His eyebrows furrow and then he gets a good look at your face and the realization strikes him like a wave of guilt "Are you crying?" 

"Fuck off," You answer, turning away from him and continuing to walk. 

"Shit," He mutters, quickly emerging from his car. 

You stop walking, your body trembling with a mix of exhaustion and emotion. You try to speak, but the words catch in your throat, choked by the tears. Instead, you just stand there, looking at him, your face a mess of smeared makeup and raw emotion.

Kyle gets out of the car and walks over to you, his movements hesitant, as if he's not sure how to approach. When he reaches you, he gently takes your hands in his, his touch warm and grounding. "What happened?" he asks softly, his eyes searching yours for answers.

You finally find your voice, though it's weak and shaky. "I couldn't stay," you manage to say, flat. "I couldn't do it. It was too much." 

Quickly you retract your hands from Kyle's, looking at him with a fury he hadn't seen in ages. 

"How could you do this to me, Kyle?" you yell, your voice cracking with a mix of rage and tears. "How could you ambush me like that?"

Kyle stops in his tracks, his eyes wide with shock. "I was trying to help—"

"Help?" you cut him off, your voice rising. "You think dragging me to some meeting with strangers was helping? You blindsided me! You embarrassed me!"

He steps towards you, his expression pleading. "I didn't know what else to do. I'm worried about you."

Your chest heaves with each breath, the tears flowing freely now, hot and relentless. "You think I don't know what I'm doing is bad?" you shout, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. "It isn't easy for me, Kyle!" 

He looks at you, his eyes filled with pain and helplessness. "I just want to help you," he says quietly. "I don't know what else to do."

Kyle reaches out, but you step back, shaking your head. "It's a fucking compulsion, I've been doing it for ages, you can't fix it in a single meeting." 

Kyle's shoulders slump, and he takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I just don't want to see you destroy yourself."

"Kyle," You draw out "You're smart so tell me why the hell you thought that would be a good idea? Because you're no prize either." 

Kyle's expression shifts to one of deep sadness, his hands dropping to his sides. "I get that it's hard," he says softly, his eyes locking onto yours. "But running away from the no problem isn't going to solve it. You need help, and I thought that meeting could be a start."

You laugh, a harsh, bitter sound that cuts through the night air. "That was the furthest thing from help. It felt more like a fucking beartrap. You didn't even ask me how I felt about it, you didn't even bring it up again. You just dumped me there and expected me to be okay with it."

Kyle's jaw tightens, and he takes a deep breath, struggling to keep his composure. "I'm sorry if it felt like that," he says, his voice strained. "But I didn't know what else to do. I'm terrified of losing you to this. What if you get caught?"

Your heart aches at his words, but the anger still burns bright. "You don't understand," you say, your voice cracking. "I'm scared too. Scared that I'll never be able to stop. But you tricked me, you lied to me."

Kyle's face flushes with frustration, his eyes darkening. "I was desperate! Do you think it's easy for me to watch you self-destruct? To see you steal and smoke and hurt yourself over and over again?"

"Don't you dare make this about you," you snap, your hands trembling with anger. "You don't get it, Kyle." 

Kyle takes a step closer, his jaw set. "I'm trying to help you, but you keep pushing me away. You act like I'm the enemy when all I want is to see you get better. Why can't you see that?"

Your chest heaves with each ragged breath, the tears burning in your eyes. "Because it doesn't feel like help! It just doesn't, can you get that in your fucking head? Why are you trying to fix me?"

"I'm not trying to fix you. We can't fix each other but we can help and that's all I want to do," His gaze softens "Just tell me what to do," he says, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions.

The words hang in the air between you, and for a moment, everything feels suspended in time. You don't know what to do. The intensity of it all crashes over you like a wave, and you find yourself struggling to breathe.

You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Instead, a sob escapes, raw and broken. The anger that had fueled you moments ago dissipates, leaving behind a profound sense of helplessness. Your shoulders shake as the sobs come harder, your vision blurring with tears. You don't have the answers Kyle is looking for; you don't even have the answers for yourself.

Kyle's face softens, his expression shifting from frustration to concern and heartbreak. "Hey, hey," he murmurs, taking a step towards you. "It's okay."

It's not okay. Nothing feels okay. You're overwhelmed by the realization that you're spiralling, and if you don't find a way to get help, it's only going to get worse. You knew it was getting bad when you couldn't even run a mile without coughing up your lungs.

As the sobs wrack your body, you feel your knees weaken. You take an unsteady step toward Kyle, and he immediately closes the distance, pulling you into his arms. The moment you feel his embrace, the dam truly breaks. You collapse into him, your fingers clutching at his shirt as if he's the only thing keeping you from drowning.

"I don't know what to do," you whisper between sobs, your voice barely audible. 

His arms tighten around you, one hand gently cradling the back of your head. "We'll figure it out," he says softly, his voice thick with emotion.

You bury your face in his chest, the sobs continuing to pour out of you, each one tearing at your heart. You feel a mix of shame and relief, the two emotions intertwining in a confusing dance. Shame because you're admitting, finally, that you need help. Relief because, at this moment, Kyle's arms around you make you feel less alone, less lost.

You made a decision in your mind, after months of back and forth with yourself "That was my last cigarette," You sniffle "Ever." It was far from your last in truth but still proved to be a pivotal moment in your life.

[itspikamefan]

Save the Tiger Unquoted; Cold as Ice

(This wasn't a request but I wanted to write the discovery of (REDACTED)'s body in Chapter 3 of Save the Tiger. Why? Bored. Mostly. And hey! You all seem to like my little AU! So why not? Anyways enough of my yapping let's get INTO THE STORY!)

(Harada's POV)

...Cold...

Keizou hadn't really been all that familiar with the feeling... He'd experience a nasty winter once or twice, but there was always a place he could go to stay warm...

Here... There was nothing. He was trapped in the world's Largest Freezer, the temperature dropping day by day... until...

...He could barely think... So much had happened... And where had he been? Goofing off with Sawa?

He should have been there... He should have helped Wada... Or Hayashi... or... Chiba...

...He didn't mean to start crying... He was just... so cold...

A little "Mrrp." briefly brought him out of his thoughts. Sawa wriggled her way into his arms, cuddling against him for Warmth. What little Warmth he had left...

...Was it even worth it to get up?

Nobody would care if he died from the Cold... If he went missing... Sawa maybe would get a few tears, but him?...

Harada looked at the bed side table, on it was a single pendant resting calmly... next to a newly taken Photo...

...Yukino... Hama...Chiba

...

He had to get up... He knew he did... It was difficult... Every part of his body didn't want to move, but he forced himself up. Sawa lept from his arms, now circling his feet as Harada made his heavy steps towards the door, still circled in his blanket.

He grabbed the doorhandle and pushed the door outwaard, a wave of cold air hitting his face. He forgot how many vents were out here...

With shuddering steps, he walked forward, expecting to be alone in the halls... Until...

"Keizou?"

Harada glanced up, and saw Ojima walking by, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Oh... Takeshi... Good Morning..." Harada says, putting on a weak smile.

"It's 1 o'clock in the Afternoon."

"O-oh... Is it? Sorry, I've been... trying to stay warm, I guess."

"Really? Cause you look like you're on the verge of Hypothermia..."

"...Sorry..."

"Don't apologize! Just... Look, let's find you a place to warm up, ok?"

"Warm who up?"

Another voice... Harada turned around... Chiba and... Him...

"Hama?" Keizou asked weakly.

"Harada!" Chiba shouts, rushing forward and wrapping Harada in a hug. Sawa lets out a few cries of joy as she nuzzles against Chiba's legs.

"H-hey Chiba..." Harada waves.

"Where have you been?! We've been looking for you all day! ...Well, you and Okazaki. But still!"

"I was just... curled up in my room again..."

"Again?" Hama asks. "Seriously, bro. You gotta stop doing that."

"I-It's fine... I'm out now."

"Yeah, but you look like a Popsicle." Hama sighs.

Before Keizou can react, Hama pushes Chiba to the side (Much to her annoyance) and wraps Harada in a hug, pressing his face directly against Hama's...

...Keizou suddenly felt a lot warmer...

"There... You feel warmer now? I tried to use my demon arm to heat up my core." Hama says.

Harada stays silent, his mind racing with thoughts, most of which he was sure were condemning him to hell.

"...Hello?" Hama asks.

"...Huh? Oh! Right! Yeah, that uh... that helped. Thanks." Harada says, feeling a bit more perky.

"Damn, one hug from Hama perked you up that much? I want one of those." Ojima jokes.

"Me too! I want a hug!" Chiba cheers.

"You already had your hug, Chiba. I only have so much heat to spare, even with my fiery arm." Hama complains.

"Awww!" Chiba huffs.

"Well, now that it seems we're all awake, any ideas on what we should do today?"

"I was thinking... Maybe we could use the Incinerators like a Campfire? We've got two of them, so if we split into two groups of six, we should be able to use them without too much crowding." Harada suggests.

"Oooh! Yeah! And we could grab some marshmellows, and Cookies, and Chocolate, and make some smores!" Chiba suggests.

"I could really go for a Smore right now." Hama says.

"Me too." Ojima smiles. "Anything else though? Not that your idea was bad, Harada, I just like exploring our options."

"Fair enough." Harada shrugs.

"...Maybe we could use the candles?" Chiba suggests

"Candles?" Hama asks.

"From the storage room! Hiroaki used them the other day to host a funeral for Sasaki. I think he might have done one for Kamimura and Hasegawa too..."

"Damn... The guy treats the dead better than he treats us." Hama says.

"It's not that... He just... has trouble expressing his meaning sometimes. You notice he was quiet as a Mouse all of Yesterday. And at Breakfast. He's trying..." Ojima says.

"I guess..."

"The candles sound nice though. Having a little flame to carry everywhere would certainly make the cold more bearable." Harada says.

"Then let's grab those first. We'll get the candles, and meet up with everyone in the cafeteria for the Incinerator Idea." Ojima says. "Chiba, where did Hiroaki host his... funeral?"

"In the Medbay!"

The group nods in affirmation as they follow the Child Star out to the Medbay. As they approach the door though, they notice something peculiar.

"Huh... The candles are lit?" Ojima asks

"Must be Hiroaki holding that funeral for Ken and Kazutoshi." Harada comments.

"But... it looks like there's someone inside... Laying on one of the beds..." Ojima mutters.

"Probably Hayashi then..." Hama says.

"She's gonna be real pissed when she finds out Hiroaki used her body in a makeshift funeral." Chiba says.

"Probably..."

As Ojima reaches his hand out to open the door, Harada suddenly got a feeling of dread inside him. It was like voices whispering in his head, telling him not to look... Telling him that he didn't want to see what's inside. However, out of Deadly Curiosity... He peeked inside nonetheless.

On the bed, surrounded by flowers, candles, and the stench of Medicine, Hiroaki was laying peacefully.

"The hell?" Ojima says

"Did he sleep here?" Hama asks.

"That's definitely a weird way for someone to sleep..." Chiba mutters.

"Yeah, wonder why he-"

Click

Bzzzzzzzzzzzt

...

The air vent... shut off

"Hang on... Did... Did the cold air just stop blowing?" Hama asks, his face starting to pale.

"But that's impossible... The only way Monomoko said she would shut off the air is if.... If..." Ojima's face turns from confusion to fear as his eyes widen.

"No... it can't be! No!" Chiba cries out, suddenly understanding the dread.

BZZZT

"Attention All Students..."

"Oh god... No no no no no no no." Ojima mutters, rushing over to Hiroaki.

"But he was.... There's no way he'd just..." Harada mutters.

"Hiroaki! Wake up! Nakamigawa! Please! WAKE UP NAKAMIGAWA!!!"

"A body has been discovered..."

(TO BE CONTINUED)

[pooplyface1423]

"~The most radiant angel in all of Heaven~"(pt2)

⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛

(Flashback)

As Lucifer and Lilith were about to be banished Sera said

"Does anybody object? speak now or hold piece"

Lucifer slightly turned to you he now what he did was wrong but he still had slight hope you'll say something at least a farewell.

When Sera noticed nobody raised there hand she was given the green light to banish Lucifer.

Then out of the corner of his eye he saw you seemingly lightheaded that beautiful smile fading until you passed out!? How? why? it was to late to say anything..

(End of flashback)

⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛⯅⛛

"Seeing her beautiful smile, her kindness towards others everything , bout her is something i miss nothing can change what i did can it? would i ever be able to get her back? most importantly has she moved on?"

Anyway Lucifer was not only scared for charlie going into heaven and being rejected like he was all those millions of years ago but he was also scared of charlie accidentally meeting you.....

Reluctantly he agreed and he teleported back to his palace.

⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌

Today is the day ,the day Charlie and vaggie go have a meeting with heaven in heaven.

After St.Peter and Emily sang welcome to heaven, Charlie and Vaggie where shown to there room to freshen up.Then Emily invited them to the zoo with two of her friends and Charlie agreed but Vaggie decided to stay behind.

"Hey Charlie!" "Hi" "wheres Vaggie?" "Well she said she wanted to stay back"

"Oh.. Well that's fine! Come on let me introduce you to my friends Faith and Hope there twins" Says Emily so excited to show Charlie around

"Okay were here ........ were could they be.. Oh there they are!.. Faith ,Hope i want to introduce you guys to Charlie!"

"Hi I'm Faith but you can call me Faye" says Faith

"And that's Hope You can just call him Hope! Hes a little shy" Says Faith after seeing Hope get extremely nervous.

"Well lets get going i wanna show you every single animal!"

As the three girls went in front of him hope took it as a chance to text you and when you didn't answer he excused himself to the bathroom called you.

"Mom" "Yes dear?" "Um i got a quick question...BUT promise not to get scared angry or anything bad okay?" "Okay? if you got hurt just come over here and were's Faye?" "Um well Faye is with Emily and um-.......the princess of hell"

There was a long pause until...

"The what? hunny i can't hear you, You'll have to speak louder"

"The princess of hell"

"Who?"

"Well her name is Charlie Morningstar and i got a question about her"

"Um- well I- I don't know her but um what is the question you have dear?"

"So to put it straight she looks like me?" "How so dear?" "you know by the little red circles on my cheeks? so um just wanted to know about dad since i never knew much about him is he alive? are me and faye related to charlie?"

".........I- I don't know.........But your little head shouldn't worry bout it don't mention that at Lunch okay? I'll give you more answers soon okay?"

"okay mom...Bye"

⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌⯎⯌

Hello again! finally finished after high demand lol. Hope ya'll like it.part 3 will hopefully be out later this week.

Tag-list: @yourmommylol04 (won't let me tag you) @lxkeee @vann13 (can't find acc) @adaizel

(to be added just comment)

[joonslfttiddie]

The Underclassman

💜Fic Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

💜AU/Genre: College AU | Smut | Potential Relationship

💜Warnings: Smut, femdom, male sub, climax denial, unprotected sex, ejaculation, virgin's first time

💜Rating: MA

💜Word Count: 4781

Senior year of undergrad has had its challenges but you know it's downhill from here. Having gotten a jump on your assignments, you're pretty much skating through until graduation. Your only obligations are your teaching assistant tasks for Dr. Yun's psychology class, your job at the bookstore, and a few organizations on campus.

While things have been chill regarding course work, this year has also shown you who has your best interest at heart and who is just a waste of space in your life. Depending on how you look at things, fortunately or unfortunately, that meant that your ex-boyfriend was one of the people to exit your world. The two of you had been together since freshman year, and it has not been easy adjusting to the single life.

You haven't been on a date since, and just looking at other men still feels wrong. Your ex was always the jealous, controlling type who made it hard to breathe, as you walked on eggshells around him, which made you feel powerless.

"Honestly, I never liked your ex. It felt like all of your time was owed to him... like he owned you. You deserve so much better than him."

Your friend, René, opens up to you during a night of chilling at your apartment, sitting in a circle, cross legged in the middle of your living room floor. Your other friends, Michelle and Ticole, just shake their heads in agreement before taking a sip of their beers.

"I know, I know. You're right. I can see now how devoted I was to him. I was willing to give him everything I had. Of course, we now know he was giving his time, amongst other things, to someone else...but it's whatever."

Michelle chimes in, "It is whatever. This is our senior year. I just want you to take your time to find yourself again. Get out! Date! Enjoy your hoe phase. Plus, my boyfriend's mentee asks me about you every time I see him. That boy is in love."

"Girl, who? Seokjin?! I catch him eyeing me every other day in Dr. Yun's class but he has yet to say anything to me sooooo....."

"Don't do him like that...He is so sweet but so shy. He's one of those guys that's hot but doesn't know he's hot."

You all erupt into laughter and as the excitement subsides you agree.

"You're right, he is so cute but I never really looked at him like that. He has been such a sweetheart every time I've interacted with him but I dunno if he's my type, you know? Hell, he still refers to me as 'ma'am', like, I literally only have a couple of years on him, if that."

"He mentioned to Chance that he was not the best looking guy in high school. He was bullied because he was so skinny, had bad acne, braces, and glasses.. the usual "nerd" package. I, legit, don't think he realizes that puberty has come and gone. I wonder if he just doesn't have the confidence to approach you."

"Hmm... that would make sense. I hate that he went through all that. He seems so sweet despite being mistreated. I'll think about it, ok? But as far as 'enjoying my hoe phase' goes, guys fuck around all the time and no one bats an eye. I hate the double standard. I'm going to have the time of my life for the rest of the year. I deserve it, plus I've been horny as fuck, lately."

"Girl, go for it! I support this. Live your best life, friend. You've missed out on a lot being tied down like a married woman. Go get you some. And you never know, having that underclassman screaming 'yes, ma'am' may be just what you need!" Ticole says, co-signing with Michelle.

You all erupt into a fit of laughter at that and you take notice of the way your body feels from just imagining it. As heat burns up your spine and your pussy tingles, you swallow spit as you're basically salivating with excitement. Knowing what will make for some good material when you're alone later, you reply with a nervous chuckle, "Maybe, huh?"

Your girls were right! You're going to start putting yourself out there and try to be more open minded. After a restful night and having used mental images of Seokjin to gain a little post nut clarity, you begin to think that you may even explore people outside of your typical type. Internalizing all the encouragement your girls provided last night, you walk to Dr. Yun's class feeling like the baddest bitch on campus.

After taking attendance, you make a mental note that Seokjin isn't here yet. He never misses class but you shrug it off for the moment to continue your duties. You remind the students of upcoming assignments, schedule a few tutoring sessions, and answer any questions to the best of your knowledge until the professor arrives moments later. He hands you a stack of handouts and asks you to make copies since he hadn't gotten a chance to while the class takes a quiz. You grab your phone from the desk and slide it in the pocket of your cardigan before swiftly proceeding down the hall to the printer.

You turn the corner, finding yourself colliding with a student who is frantically rushing to class, landing you on your ass surrounded by the papers you were carrying, you quickly adjust your clothes as your skirt has flipped up, putting your lace undies on full display.

"Fuck! I'm so sorry! Are you okay? I woke up late and can't be late for class. I have a quiz today."

You recognize that voice immediately and look up to see Seokjin. He quickly tries to collect the paperwork as he chatters, taking a moment to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

'He couldn't have seen that, right?'

"Hey! No worries, Seokjin, I can get this. Go ahead... they're just about to begin."

After hearing his name cross your lips, he finally looks up to see your face. With a gasp, you notice his ears flush red before he responds.

"Miss y/n! I'm so sorry! Are you sure you're okay?" He pulls you up to your feet with one hand, allowing you to further adjust your clothing before handing you the papers he'd collected.

"Yes, I'm fine. Hurry up and go. Good luck!"

"Yes, ma'am. Thank you, thank you. I'm so sorry."

Seokjin smiles nervously before he rushes past you towards the classroom.

You make the copies and begin heading back to class, unable to stop replaying the incident with Seokjin. Has he always been so cute? So tall? Shoulders that broad? Biting your bottom lip, you recall the way his hair hung just above his eyes and his full pink lips slightly parted when he gasped from the shock of your accident. He looked so nerdy behind those glasses, but his brown eyes were breathtaking.

'Why am I just seeing him now... like really SEEING him?!'

You're thinking about all of this as you make the copies, sure that you hadn't noticed Seokjin's beauty for being so committed to you ex. You were blind for so long but now your eyes are wide open.

Back in the classroom, you quietly place the stack of papers on the desk, glancing up to see the student's working busily. Once you take your designated spot next to Dr. Yun's desk, you cross your legs and begin looking through the rows of seats until you spot him. Hunching over his desk and bouncing his foot restlessly, the poor guy looks so anxious. The sight leaves him looking so small and helpless, though he is definitely a deliciously full grown adult.

You glance away for a second but can't help the smirk that creeps across your face when you catch him suddenly still, sitting erect in his seat as his eyes trace your up legs all the way up to your thighs peeking from under your skirt. After making sure everyone else was focused on their work, you put your leg down and part your knees, now purposely exposing yourself to him. He licks his lips, then his eyes meet yours. Snapping your legs shut, you look down, covering your smile as you snicker to yourself. His nervous behavior commences as his gaze quickly snaps back down to his quiz, but not before you notice his face and ears turn a pretty shade of pink. What is this new feeling? You are not certain but you are 100% sure that you love it. You want more.

A couple of days have passed since literally running into Seokjin when you find yourself at work refolding the campus tees on one of the display tables, you glance at your watch to see it's almost time for you to clock out. It's been beautiful weather all day, despite what the weather channel said, but you can see the sky getting darker and you can hear thunder in the distance.

"It looks like the rain has finally made it," you warn your coworker. "Get home safely!"

Thankfully you check the weather every morning before leaving your campus apartment and was wise enough to bring your umbrella.

You grab your things from your locker in the employee lounge after clocking out. Once outside, you make it halfway across the yard to the fountain in the middle of the quad before you feel the first few sprinkles of rainfall. You stop to arm yourself with your umbrella before continuing your trek across campus as the bottom falls out of the sky. It is pouring now as you cross the street nearing your place, and you notice a familiar figure walking ahead of you.

He's soaking! He doesn't have an umbrella or even a jacket to keep him warm. You can tell that he's cold by the way he burrows into himself. The ripples of his back muscles are accentuated through his wet, white tee shirt as he hugs himself.

"SEOKJIN!"

He stops and turns towards you after hearing his name.

"Miss y/n? What are you doing out in this storm?"

You hold up the umbrella to cover you both.

"I'm just leaving work and on my way home. What are you doing out? And why don't you have a jacket on or an umbrella?"

He smiles shyly.

"Ummm...I didn't know it was going to rain today so I'm unprepared. I was going to the cafe to grab a bite before studying but it started to storm so I turned back."

"You poor thing. Why don't you come up to my place until the rain stops? I haven't eaten yet, either, so I can whip something up for us to eat."

"Uhhh...are you sure? I wouldn't want to intrude. Plus, I only live a ways down from here."

Linking your arm in his, you continue to shield you both from getting wet while pulling him alongside you.

"It's no intrusion, I promise. Since it's Friday, my roommate has gone to her boyfriend's place, so I could use the company."

You smile at each other as he takes the umbrella to hold above you and continue to chat as you make your way up the stairs leading to your door. When you step inside, you ask that he stay at the door where there's tile as he's still dripping wet.

"Just stay there for a second. You're soaked. I know there's a towel in here somewhere."

After a moment of searching through the hamper of fresh laundry you hadn't gotten a chance to put away before work, you finally find a towel and hand it to him after he's secured the umbrella strap and placed it in the corner.

"Thanks, Miss y/n. I really appreciate your kindness."

"Of course! We've known each other for years now. You're not exactly a stranger at this point, so it's no problem at all. While you're drying your hair, I'll go see if my roommate's boyfriend may have left some clothes here. You guys are about the same size. Go ahead and get out of those clothes before you catch a cold."

This wouldn't be the first time you've seen a man undress so you're not thinking much about what you just said and rush off to your roommates bedroom to find a large tee shirt and a pair of basketball shorts. You stay frozen for a second as the situation suddenly catches up to you. You and Seokjin are alone in your apartment and he's undressing in the other room. Ticole's words echo in your mind. 'Get you some!' Michelle's voice lingers closely behind. 'Enjoy your hoe phase!'

'Am I really thinking about this now?! Does he even think of me in THAT way? He seems so innocent, I don't want to be a bad influence or take advantage of him.

You continue to stand there, contemplating your next move. Sure, he is extra dorky at first glance, but when you really look at him, you see now that he is fine as fuck. He, also, doesn't talk to a lot of people so you know he's not sleeping around and he will be discreet about what happens. This could be a good thing, if he's willing, of course. You take a deep breath before you leave the room, only to walk out and see Seokjin wearing nothing but his jeans and sneakers. You gasp at the sight, hoping he didn't hear you. Sure, you knew he would be undressing but you didn't expect that body to be under those clothes. God definitely took his time sculpting him to perfection.

When he looks up to see you've returned, he shyly covers himself with the wet shirt and towel leaving his free hand grasping his spectacles across his chest. There's that feeling again...the one you experienced during class the other day. You clear your throat and walk over to him to give him the clothes, trying your best not to stare.

"M-miss y/n. I-"

"Oh... sorry! I'm not trying to make you feel uncomfortable. Here are the clothes. I can step out for a second."

Reluctantly, he drops the shirt and towel to the floor by his side but his other hand holding on to his glasses remains across his chest as he reaches for the outfit.

Just above a whisper, he asks, "I've been meaning to talk to you. Are you ok? You know from the other day? I was hoping you weren't hurt and I wanted to apologize again. And no, I'm not uncomfortable, you know? I just...I."

"No, I'm completely fine, I promise. And it's no problem at all. I'll step out to give you some privacy."

"Miss y/n."

"Hmm?" You pause to look up to him, awaiting his response.

"You don't have to leave. I don't want you to leave, I just..."

The look on his face teeters on the cusp of pain and embarrassment.

"What's up? You look like there's something else you want to tell me."

"Miss y/n."

"Stop calling me that, though. I'm only a couple years older than you."

"Y-y/n?" He pauses for a moment to see if he's overstepped. When you continue to look into his chocolate colored pupils, he continues speaking. "I've never done this before."

"Done what?"

He leans over to place the clothes on the end table putting his glasses on top. He stands back to face you, taking your wrist in his hand. His eyes bounce from your eyes to your lips, then back. You can see he's nervous as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

"What do you want to do, Sweet Boy? Do you want to kiss me?"

The nickname and the question causes his eyes to widen, the reddish hue of his ears and cheeks deepen.

"Y-yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, ma'am. I want to kiss you so bad."

"Good boy. Go ahead, kiss me."

He hesitates, standing straight and still, your small wrist still gripped in his hand. He's looking into your eyes as if searching to see if you're serious. After what feels like forever, he tilts his head to the side and leans in, only to pull back. Shifting his head in the opposite direction, he leans in again only to pull away. He continues this for a moment, unsure of how to approach you. This would usually be a huge turn off for you but with him it's different. His uncertainty and timidness seems to just stir you on.

"Kiss me."

Your sudden command startles him slightly and he quickly leans in, placing his mouth against yours, bumping your lip with his teeth. He pulls back quickly as if he were burned. Patiently, you take his hands, placing one on the small of your back and the other at your nape. Taking a step forward, your body now flush to his, you can hear his breath shuttering. His very prominent bulge presses against your stomach as you place one hand on his exposed chest and snake your arm around his neck.

"Don't rush. I'm not going anywhere. Take your time and try again."

Slowly this time, he moves in to softly press his lips to yours before he pulls away, the smooch audible. You gently pull him back, slowly beginning to move your mouth against his, licking and sucking at his lips. When your tongue brushes against his, he whimpers aloud, grasping your shirt into his fist. Pulling back, you look up to check in on him. The dorky Seokjin is barely visible under the haze of lust now surrounding him. He bends down, taking your lips again. Mimicking your actions from before, he licks and sucks at your bottom lip before grazing your tongue with his own. Slightly taken aback by the feeling, you pull back to regain control of this situation. When he releases you, you step back and can feel the coldness of your shirt against your skin, now wet from being pressed against him.

"That was so good, Baby. You did good. Would you like to take the rest of those wet clothes off?"

"Yes, ma'am."

You smile at how quickly he's catching on. Still standing at the entrance of your place, Seokjin begins to toe off his shoes which squish with every movement. Sliding them to the side with his foot, he begins to unbutton his jeans, hands noticeably trembling. You're unsure if he's still cold or if he's nervous so you decide to check in again.

"Are you ok? Do you want to stop?"

"Yes, ma'am. No, ma'am... I'm ok. I don't want to stop, I'm just c-cold."

"Take those off and follow me...let's get you warmed up."

Removing your now moist shirt, you begin walking down the hallway to your bedroom. Seokjin watches as your hips sashay and your ass jiggles with every step you take. He continues to peel the wet jeans from his body. Now, wearing only his boxer briefs, he follows the route he just watched you take. Inside of your bedroom, he finds you already in bed, clothes tossed haphazardly on the floor. He bashfully makes his way to the edge of the bed, awaiting further instruction.

"Aren't those wet, too? Don't you think you should take them off?"

"Are you sure you're ok with this? With me?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Why wouldn't I be? Take them off, Sweet Boy, and come here."

When he pulls them down, you have to hide the shock that overcomes you. His dick looks so thick and heavy. Your heart begins to race in anticipation. Once he's completely naked, you pull the covers back as an invitation for him to climb in. He seems reluctant, trying and failing to cover his manhood behind his hands.

"Seokjin, baby...we don't have to do anything you aren't ready for. I won't be upset and I won't force you to do anything you don't want to do."

"NO! It's not that. I want this, I want this with you. But, like I mentioned, I've never done this before...I'm a virgin. Shit, you just gave me my first kiss. I'm sorry...I should have told you sooner. I'll just leave. I don't want to embarrass myself and waste your time."

"Awww, Baby. It's ok! I don't care that you're a virgin. I want you to stay but only if you want to stay."

"Yes, ma'am, I do."

"I promise to be patient. I'm not here to judge you. I won't rush you so just take your time. Would you like for me to teach you?"

He nods his head in agreement.

"Have you ever heard of a 'safeword'?"

"Is it a word we would use to indicate that we are uncomfortable with something?"

"That's exactly what it is. If either of us say or do anything that the other doesn't like, we'll use that word. The other has to stop immediately."

"Ok...what should it be? Could we use Adler?"

You laugh out loud at his cuteness. "Ok... that's fine with me, but why did you choose that?"

"I don't know. His theory was the last thing I looked at when I was studying for Professor Yun's test earlier. It's the first thing that popped into my head," he laughs bashfully while still trying to cover his manhood.

"Adler it is. You can lay with me whenever you feel ready."

With that reassurance, he places his trust in you, removes his hands, and climbs into the sheets. Covering your bodies under the plush blanket, you pull him closer to share your body heat. Resting your head on one hand, you caress his smooth skin with the other. His body continues to tremble but not from the cold this time. Your touch is sending electricity through his core leaving his skin slightly clammy and his breathing shallow and quick.

"I've seen the way you stare at me in class. Do you like me, baby?"

His expression looks as if he'd been caught red handed.

"Y-yes, ma'am. Yes, I do."

"Have you thought about being close with me like this? In bed with me? Touching my naked body?"

His breath hitches in his throat before he answers the same as before.

"Y-y...Yes, ma'am."

"Do you ever touch yourself when you think of me? Does the thought of me make you cum, baby?"

You're practically whispering at this point, inches from his ear. Your hand travels down his abs then along his thigh, skipping the tented area where he needs and wants your touch the most. His erection jerks from the excitement, his body spasms, and his shallow breaths now deepen as he whimpers and moans under your touch. You know he's fighting for his life at this moment but you decide to press him for an answer.

"Did you hear my question? Answer me, Seokjin."

Still inaudible minus his tiny whimpers, he nods his head frantically in agreement.

"I can't hear you. Are you not going to answer me? Do you know what happens to bad boys who don't follow directions? They get punished."

He squeezes his eyes shut tightly in anticipation of what you'll do next. As he clenches his teeth, you can see the muscles along his jawline flex.

"Bad boy," you say softly, pulling the blanket off of him to reveal his hardness. His dick is so firm making his skin look extra smooth but painfully red. The precum leaking from his slit indicates he's enjoying this torture. "Show me. Show me how you jerk yourself off when you're in your room thinking about me."

You sit up briefly to grab the almond oil you'd left on your nightstand this morning after moisturizing your legs. Opening the cap, you pour a bit on the head of his dick and watch as it drizzles down his shaft along the contours of his veins.

"Show me, bad boy. Let me see."

His hand tremors as he brings it up to fist himself. Using his thumb, he distributes the oil and precum over his tip before slowly gliding down his rod. He grunts and gasps as his abs contract, lifting his head from the pillow slightly. He moves his fist back up to the top, barely touching himself.

"Look at me, Seokjin."

He opens his eyes, though they are hooded and lazy. Your heart flutters at the sight. He holds eye contact and his plush lips part as his pants, ready to receive his punishment.

"Squeeze tighter. Imagine my tight pussy slowly sliding down your dick. I'm so wet and juicy."

Following your instruction, he applies more pressure. Still looking into your eyes, his brows furrow as if begging for more. He begins to pick up speed as he's almost there.

"Slowly. Rub your thumb over the tip."

And he does, slowly smearing more precum over the head of his penis. You can tell that he's close to the edge. You allow him to stroke himself a few more times before you grab his wrist, stopping him.

"I want you inside of me. I want you begging me to let you cum."

You grab your phone before moving back towards him. Straddling his hips as he looks at you with a dumbfounded expression. You lift up onto your knees and guide him into you.

"Oh, oh, oh, y/n! Oh! OH!"

He is a mess as you slowly lower your soaking wet pussy to sit flush onto his lap.

"What a nice seat. I think I'll sit here for a while. Don't move."

You unlock your device and start to scroll through your Instagram feed as you're perched motionless with his dick buried deep inside of you. He feels so good and it's a challenge for you to remain still, sitting in this dominant role. You look up to see him looking up to you. The slight chuckle that leaves your lips causes your walls to tighten briefly around him. His whimpers cause you clench even more. He hisses and grabs your hips, sinking his nails into your skin. Simultaneously, he pulls you down as he grinds up to burrow deeper into you. You swallow your moan, unwilling to relinquish your newfound power. You lean forward to firmly grab his chin, bringing his eyes up to yours.

"I said...Be. Still," you whisper. You leave him heaving as you continue to scroll on your phone, putting on as if you're not ready to ride him off the cliff of ecstasy. His little pleas making it harder to act.

"Hmmm...Pleeeease! I c-can't. Y-y/n, please. I can't... can't hold it anymore."

"You can't hold it? Do you need to use the word, baby."

His brows are winkling tighter, sweat pecking at his forehead and chest. You adjust yourself, purposely lifting your body only to follow the trail of moisture you've left smeared on his dick to sit back down.

"N-no... I can't. I can't hold it, y/n! A-ADLER!"

"Go ahead, baby. Let it go."

With your permission, he grips you tighter and pounds into you. Seokjin bares and grinds his teeth, his grunts becoming louder with every stroke. He controls himself for as long as he can, lasting for approximately ten seconds before he explodes, painting your walls with his cum. He feels so amazing, you to want to continue to move. His whining grows louder as his sensitivity increases. Stopping for a moment to allow him to catch his breath, you push the hairs stuck to his forehead away and caress his cheek.

"Are you ok, babe?" Your voice sounds so loving, laced with tenderness.

Seokjin opens his eyes to look at you before he replies, "Yes, ma'am. I'm ok...more than ok. That was better than any of my daydreams, better than I could have ever imagined. You feel so good, so warm, so wet. You look so beautiful sitting on me like this. Thank you so much for this experience."

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. You're doing so well."

"But you are too sexy, I couldn't restrain myself. The nickname you called me... the way you spoke to me... your dominance. Whew! But, I came way too fast, I'm so sorry. I wasn't able to pleasure you."

Looking at him, you can see that he's oozing with confidence. Confidence you're sure he's unaware that he carries. You both continue conversing as he softly traces tiny circles on your calves with his fingertips.

"Stop that...you're being too hard on yourself. You did great and this was your first time! You'll get better the more you do it. And you feel amazing, by the way. You just have to learn what to do and gain more experience."

"Ummm... could you help me with that, y/n?"

"Of course, Sweet Boy, I would love to help you with that."

He blushes and chuckles a little with a voice that sounds deeper than you remember. "Really?! Thank you so much, y/n. I never would have imagined I'd be able to be here with you, like this. I'm, literally, the luckiest man alive. Also... I am still inside of you but the way you're looking at me, well, I'm getting hard again. What should I do?"

You can't contain your laugher at his innocence.

"Well, baby, you just came. Now it's my turn."

"Yes ma'am... just tell me what I need to do and I'll do it. Anything you want. I want to learn how to please you."

[guillotinesandroses]

Blemished By Life; Chapter 9 - Purple Old Wounds

Tokyo Revengers Reader Insert, Gender Neutral Isekai'd Reader

Blemished By Life Masterlist

You pluck a peach from a tree, then drop it. 

Damn, that's disappointing, you recall your most recent dream. A yawn escapes your lips as your hand squishes against your cheek. Staring out of the window at the trees in the schoolyard makes classes ever so slightly more bearable, but no matter how many imaginary scenarios you make up based on the strangers passing by, you still cannot outrun the boredom. 

Life has been dull ever since you ran from home, from everything, from everyone. Sure, you have Homura now but she is rarely around, always out somewhere or asleep. As much of a nuisance as you can be, bothering someone in need of rest is far too cruel for your liking. Besides, in spite of more than likely being some kind of crime lord, the woman has been nothing but a saint to you. She has given you everything one ever could have needed in life: food, housing, and opportunities for the future, such as enrolling you into nearby a school. 

That is why you cannot help but feel ungrateful when the emptiness in your heart lingers even as weeks pass by. The closet you used to sleep in was stuffy and uncomfortable. Shinichiro's so called cooking gave you food poisoning more than once. The beds at the orphanage creaked and the thin blankets could never keep you warm. Food would always run out if you were not quick enough, left only with the scraps. 

According to all logic, you should not miss any of it. Homura provides so much more for you. Still, your chest aches as you wonder what Keisuke, Manjiro, and Emma are doing during their martial arts classes when you look at the clock at four in the evening. Shinichiro probably braids her hair now in the way she complains about, then shows off some cool item he found earlier to make up for it. Takashi still likely sews as his sisters run circles around one another, and the boys at the orphanage talk like they live in the medieval ages. 

You want to smile, you want to be happy for them. In spite of leaving for their sake, your soul wishes you could be selfish enough to run right back to their open arms. Still, the nightmares persist, haunting your mind. Living with those who bring out the worst in your head is absolute hell. Each time something went even slightly wrong, you choked on your spit as you tried not to fuss over every tiny scrape on your friends' bodies. Every single one of your steps was carefully calculated then, and if your presence was what would cause them that pain like Mikey said in one of your dreams, staying would only wound both sides. 

If they only were nightmares caused by paranoia, you could bear it for them. However, their safety was not something you were willing to ever risk. You could not even grasp the thought of Izana and Manjiro being hurt, no matter how often they would get on your nerves. Even so, fighting the loneliness has been difficult. Each day you nearly crumble and visit the orphanage, guilt ripping you apart from both sides as you recall your promises to the two weird boys. 

You sigh, lost in thought as you tap pencil against a notebook, Maybe I should get new friends. 

There are not many people who you would consider to be close with that you have never had a nightmare about. You can count four; Homura, Takeomi and the Haitani brothers. What makes the difference, you do not really know. Still you are not comfortable hanging around people who gave you nightmares anymore. 

Takeomi is not an option since he would obviously tattle on to the others about your whereabouts. It would be better if they thought you were dead. It is not as if you ever were a particular joy to have around, you know you can be extremely annoying. Crossing him off, you are left with the brothers as the only option to hang out with. 

The problem is, as it always has been, that the two live really far away. No chance you would be walking all the way to Roppongi. Of course, you could take the train or something but the passengers on public transport are always so annoying and somebody stole the ticket from your pocket once and one time some old guy coughed in your face and you got an eye infection, not to mention you had a penchant for getting lost- 

Another inaudible sigh falls from your lips and you stop tapping your pencil against the paper. Well, there are only two options. You can figure out how trains work and visit the two dumbasses, or you can finally shape up and learn to socialize in a school setting, how fun. 

"-name). (Surname)! Are you listening?" 

A stern voice snaps you out of your thoughts. "Hm? Yes, teacher?" 

"We are doing group projects today. Your partner is Kazutora Hanemiya. Go sit with him." 

"Oh, got it," you respond with a sudden grin. The teacher sighs as you glance over to the boy he pointed at. Hanemiya's dull eyes seem to stare into nothingness as he fiddles with his eraser.

All of his movements lag as he appears stuck in daze. He sits all by himself and those surrounding him seem unnerved by his behavior. You, however, hop to his side with a satisfied smile. This is perfect! I'm in the mood to stop being lonely, and he can't escape my friendship due this whole group project thing- how lucky! 

"Heya! So, which topic should we pick?" You pull a chair in one smooth move and lean over to him. 

He blinks slow, as if utterly confused that someone has spoken to him. Soon he turns back to his own desk, avoiding eye-contact again as he points to the chalkboard. "I want option two. It's the easiest topic." 

"Alright, we're going with that, then!" 

Hm, that was okay start! I can work with this. Alright, that was my first day of my new life. I'm gonna make so many motherfucking friends! You declare to yourself in a very proud manner, then shake your head as Shinichiro's scoldings ring through your head. 

Cram school will wipe those thoughts away, hopefully. At least it will give some kind of distraction, no matter how ineffective. For now luck seems to thankfully be on your side as someone runs up to you on the way. 

"Hello!" An adorable girl with peach-shaded hair smiles up at you. "We're going to the same place, right? I've seen you go to the same cram school as me. Let's walk together!" 

"Oh, sure." You blink, then return her smile. Yes! The universe is on my side today, LET'S GO! 

That was how it seemed at the moment anyway. Your heart swelled in delight as you went to your classes and walked home together. An odd, melancholic sensation spread over your form when she, Hinata Tachibana, left. That should have been the first warning sign, but you were far too giddy at today's supposed improvements to pay attention to it. Your foolishness cost you once nightfall arrived. 

A truck crushes the sweet girl you spoke to. Your classmate's face caves in from invisible punches. Someone's arms restrain you as you try to rush to save him. Nothing ever changes about your mind, and you wake up worse than ever this morning. 

Frowning, you adjust the white bandages again. Covering the permanent bruises on your knuckles makes you seem more intimidating, at least you hope so. All of your hopes crumbled in the span of one day. Is this just going to keep happening? Am I cursed? 

You must be doomed to live your life alone. A part of you wonders if meeting with the Haitani brothers more often would make them show up in your nightmares too. In spite of your thoughts, you try to appear normal as you pass by Homura on the porch. 

"You should stop smoking or your lungs will end up looking like a pair of shriveled up raisins!" You smirk, then instantly run away from the porch. 

"Shut it and go to school, you goblin." Homura sighs. Your smirk spreads into a grin. 

"...Goblin deez nut-!" you almost finish shouting, but her signature grumpy-morning-glare makes you decide to just laugh and keep running instead. The least you can do for her is appear happy and carefree to show you appreciate her efforts. They may be all for nothing since she unknowingly chose to help a lost cause, but it still warms your heart. Maybe you can even finally draw a mother's day card this year. 

As soon as you arrive at school, Tachibana runs up to you. Swallowing your smile, you try to retain an aura of indifference. She has decided to befriend you, how unlucky. You give her short, boring answers and offer little to no reaction to anything she says. The more her excitement fades the more your chest hurts, but you cannot afford to stop. 

"I can't help but notice you look a bit spaced out today, (Surname)-senpai. Is everything alright?" She cannot help the concern that seeps through in her voice. 

"You know I don't actually want to talk to you, right?" Your voice comes out calm and cold, at least you hope it does. All of your attention goes into making sure your frown does not betray you by slipping into the sadness you feel. 

She freezes at the sudden sentence, stopping in her tracks. "I... what do you mean? I didn't do something to offend you, did I?" 

"Not really, I just don't care about you. I only went with you yesterday out of pity." 

Her mouth opens and closes in shock. "Wh... what? So, all those jokes and smiles, everything you did was fake? Is that it?!" 

"Yes, it is. Don't bother me after today. I'm a busy person." 

She scoffs, small tears brimming in the corners of her hazel eyes. Every atom of your body itches to ease your stone-cold expression, to drop to your knees and beg for forgiveness. Still, you remain unmoving in spite of all the eyes on you. Your mind fills with apologies as your chest swells in guilt and frustration, self-hatred in its purest form. A sharp pain at the side of your face snaps you back to reality. 

"I hate liars! Goodbye, (Surname)-senpai!" She turns on her heel and walks off with a scowl. 

Your expression reads as nothing but apathy as your fingers trace the forming bruise. How convenient, a lot people saw that go down. Avoiding others should come easy now. You move on with grace and blink away the tears forming in your own eyes. It's for the best. 

Pushing away someone so cool would always be painful, but you really cannot handle one more nightmare. Hopefully just being in the same room as Hanemiya would not set your mind off. If it is the very sight of a specific person that sends your subconscious into frantic chaos, you will need to change schools. How long can I keep running though, will it ever be over? 

As soon as you get home and into your room, you drag your hands down your face and allow tears to seep through the skin. You want to drown yourself for hurting Tachibana in such a way. She seemed like a wonderful person, you loved talking to her. Still, you swore not to interact with those who gave you nightmares. If I give in now, what was the point of all this in the first place? 

Hurting others is the last thing I want to do. That's the whole point of me leaving. I don't want to suffer either. This is how it's supposed to be. I don't want to see them in pain. 

You sniffle, trying to wipe your face off. Trying to get close with more people would just be selfish anyway. You have Homura and Aubrey, the maid she lives with. Not to mention, although it is difficult, you can always try to visit the brothers in Roppongi. That is enough, that should be more than enough, you should not dwell on the others, those who should do not need you. 

Even so, no matter what you try to convince yourself, your mental state takes a hit each time you go to school. Rumors spread about you being quiet, rude, and antisocial. You would never blame Tachibana for this, she is not the type of person to speak poorly of others. Her popularity is enough to make those who like her speak ill of you without even her knowing. What a pain, you think and try your best to zone out as the days pass by. 

Life remains dull, so mundane it can barely be called that. You ask Homura for more and more assignments in spite of the woman's reluctance to use you for more than the absolutely necessary amount. Although she never says such things out loud, her worried glances say enough. For her sake, you try to act as if enjoying the secret missions is the only reason for your behavior, not a need for distractions. Unfortunately, even those missions run the risk of meeting new triggers for your nightmares. 

Even so, you refuse to tell Homura that a boy from the entertainment district sends sparks of anxiety up your spine. The area where he lives, specifically the building commonly used for the deliveries, is one of the few places safe enough for her to allow you to deliver items to. Giving her even the smallest reason not to send you there would decrease the number of ways to take your mind off of your school life. Although you do your best to avoid him, he and the ladies have taken an unfortunate liking to you. So, if a single one of them sees you, you will without a doubt get stuck with Ken's overenthusiastic ass. 

Today, however, the boy seems distracted. You almost take that as a sign of victory, but a strange sight sends you stumbling back to spy on the boy. He is accompanied by another kid with white hair- more specifically, your former close friend. 

What the hell is Takashi doing at a prostitution house?! You peek behind a corner. The two seem to be having a nice conversation as Ken guides him to another room. You recoil back when the boy spots you. He raises a brow as you frantically shake your head at him. 

Ken says something to Takashi, then closes the door and approaches you. Grimacing, you take off in a sprint. Unfortunately, he was close enough to grab a hold of your arm before you could escape. 

"Where're you going? 

"Don't talk about me to him! And make sure the ladies don't say a word either!" 

"Wait, is that one of the guys you used to know?" 

"Doesn't matter! Just be quiet and don't get him in trouble." 

"So he is, huh. Why don't you come talk to him? I'm sure he'd like to see you're alive and stuff." 

"It's better if he doesn't know. I don't wanna see him either." Your heart aches, as does your arm when you fail to pull it away. 

"What good does running away like this do?" Ken asks as you walk away. "Why did you run away to begin with?" 

"It's none of your business! I'll literally pay you to shut up, just don't mention me to him!" Your sharp tone finally makes him let go of your bicep. Shock shrouds his face as he opens his mouth to say something you will never hear. As soon as you regain your freedom, you run off to finish the delivery. 

You find other ways to distract yourself after that. Their effectiveness is quick to wear off, though. Soon enough, Homura allows you to take on another task for pocket money. This unwilling break of yours seems to have eased her mind a bit. Still, your luck seems to remain in the negatives as you return to the entertainment district. 

Ken is quick to corner you, leading you to sit down beside him at a nearby pier. In the end, you sigh towards the end of his interrogation. "Do you actually want to know..?" 

"Yeah, that's why I'm asking! I just don't get you. You've had a family, and friends who you liked, right?" 

"I do." 

"So, would ya not stay with 'em? That's such a waste," he grumbles. 

You breathe, giving in. "I've... always had horrible nightmares. Every single night of my life." 

"Huh? Every night?" 

"Every night." 

"That sounds tough." He frowns. "What're they about?" 

"Oh, you know. Just everyone I care about dying brutally. The usual." You try to sound nonchalant, not even sure what for, as you kick your feet back and forth. 

"The usual?! Wait, you haven't had any nightmares 'bout me, right?" 

"Why do you think I keep running away from you at every opportunity I get?" 

"Oh, wait, really?! I just thought you were scared of me!" 

"Why would I be scared of you?" You scoff, offended. "You might be taller, but I'm the one who knows taekwondo." 

"I'd still win," he mutters with a smirk. 

"Wanna test that-?" you get cut off by him. 

"Well, anyway, I can say I ain't gonna die if that'll make you feel any better!" Ken tries to grin. The expression fades into a soft frown when your torn gaze does not even twitch towards something happier.

Uncertain, he slings his arm over your shoulders. Bringing you closer, his words sound awkward but reassuring. "Hey... I can't say I'd really know how that feels. If there's... anything I can do about it though, just tell me, alright? I'm much better at beating up my problems but... I... can do some other stuff too." 

You remain quiet before responding in the only way you know: with sarcasm. With an amused scoff, you ask, "what stuff can you even do?" 

"Hey, the hell's that supposed to mean?!" Ken huffs before ranting about how much you suck, no venom found in his words. Soon enough he rambles on about another topic as you space out.

I really... do keep finding amazing friends. I really have met... some amazing people. Why do best of them always make me worry the most? Your eyes drift back to Ken, who swings his feet back and forth, caught raving about this boy he met the other day. Eventually though, both of you have to start leaving, going your separate ways. 

Although your chest hurts at the thought of going on your own, the rational part of your mind tells you to never meet with him again. Ken does not seem eager to leave you alone either, trying to change your mind. "You're gonna die sad and alone if ya keep this up." 

"That's kinda the point here, man." 

"You better not run off and die on me, alright?" 

"I can and will at the first opportunity, dumbass!" 

"I'm whipping out the ouija board! You can't get away from me that easy!" 

"Guess who's becoming a poltergeist, then?!" 

"I'LL FIND AN EXORCIST AND TRAP YOU IN A BOTTLE OR SOMETHING!" 

"I'LL BREAK IT, YOU INSOLENT FOOL!" 

Both of your voices grow louder and louder as you get further and further away from one another. Soon enough you are screaming before the distance grows too great for your voices to be heard. In the end you laugh to yourself at the ridiculousness of the situation. Your grin fades to a sad smile the longer you walk alone. Why do the best ones always make me worry the most..? 

[era-of-ages]

Okay... so here's the thing... (short fanfiction post for Good Omens)

After watching the entirety of Good Omens for the first time ever in approximately two days, seeing countless posts about it, and while I'm not usually a fanfiction reader, actually skimming one of those too. I feel like I need to at least dip my toes into this a little bit. So here's my short(ish) take on after season 2.

///

"Stupid, stupid, stupid! How could he possibly be so stupid? He was an angel, the smartest of them!" Crowley's words only fell on the uncaring mass of liquor bottles scattered around the floor. "Although," he refrained, "if he was so smart he wouldn't be an angel. Certainly not a supreme archangel."

That's mean, you know it is. A voice in his head told him. You know he's smart, you know he's brainwashed. You're just angry right now.

"Oh shut- SHUT UP!" He bit back. "I can be angry all I damn well want to I'm a demon for hell's sake! Maybe I've done the nice thing here or there, but I AM STILL A DEMON!"

We both know you've grown beyond that, Crowley. Far beyond it. The voice taunted him. It felt like taunting anyway. What kind of smug bastard did it think it was anyway? But he couldn't shut it up. Crowley, you can pose all you want. You've been doing it for 6000 years, after all. But you know better than anyone that being human comes with human emotion. Love. Anger. And knowledge that those emotions affect you. You know what knowledge can do, Crowley.

"And so what if I do?" He hissed. "You think I care? There's nothing to care about anymore. Azi- Azripha-" he couldn't speak it. Not without those damned tears. Who invented those anyhow? Oh right, God. The same bastard who caused all this. "He's gone." He finally managed to say. "It's too late. Always has been."

I'll tell you what you're missing. The voice in his head had taken to sounding like Nina. You're so full of that human spirit, that emotion. So where's that human hope, huh? If there's one thing Aziraphale did have, it was hope! So where's yours?"

"It went with him."

///

Muriel's steps were awkward and heavy, even still. Everything having weight here on Earth was so confusing! No one had actually ever told her how Earth works when she came, but all the books were still on the shelves, so she figured that she must be doing well. It was quiet in the book shop as well, and she started to think. Everyone had always said she hadn't done much of it before, so what better time to learn? She started to think of the shop as her friend, like it was alive. It liked her well enough, but it missed Aziraphale. It would perk up when Crowley passed by, which he did every single day, but he never came inside. Never even looked anymore. She always thought about calling out to him, asking him how to make tea or how to pronounce some of the words she had read, but she hadn't done it. Not yet anyway. She hoped one day she would.

The bell was a new sound. Muriel remembered it meant that someone had come into the shop. She said a few stalling words as she ran down the stairs, still careful to balance her feet correctly so she didn't trip again. "I'm sorry for the wait!" she said, smiling to herself about the correct use of phrase. "How can I help... you?"

"I just... just came to see it again."

Aziraphale looked terrible. Nothing like a supreme archangel. He didn't glow, she was fairly certain he used to. There were dark circles underneath his eyes, which meant he hadn't slept. But if he didn't need to, why did he have the circles? And he was smiling at her, except it wasn't really a smile. What was that phrase she had liked? Right! He wasn't smiling with his eyes. His eyes were sad.

"The shop's missed you." She said, coming to stand beside him. "Would you like some tea?"

He turned to her. He looked... defeated, somehow. "I think I would like that."

"Great!" Muriel clapped her hands. "Except... oh I don't mean to sound silly, but I don't know how to make it."

"Oh that's alright then," Aziraphale said. "I'm alright without it."

"No no!" She held up a hand, careful not to touch him. "Wait, I can figure it out! I can read things now! And understand them! Just uh... wait right here!"

She hurried off to what she knew for sure were tea implements. They had kettles and things like that in the books she'd read. Oh it was so exciting! She was going to be just like those book people! Making tea! She giggled as she set a teabag ever so carefully into a cup, then slowly poured water inside. The water started to change color! It was beautiful! She wondered why every angel didn't come to Earth, it was so full of amazing things!

"I've got it!" she announced proudly. "I made tea!" Carefully, she handed it to the supreme archangel, smiling like a child as he held it. As he took it, his hands began to shake. His eyes became sad again.

Oh no! Muriel thought. I didn't make it right! He doesn't like it! She thought backwards through the steps of making tea. What tea should look like. A cup with colored water inside with a thin trail of steam!

"Oh! It's not hot!" She said. "Not hot at all! I'm so sorry!"

"Oh no! Oh no don't be sorry!" The saucer in his hand was shaking more now. "I'll just-" with a quick snap down the tea began to steam. "Here we go! It's alright. Would you mind if I just, walked around a bit?"

"Of course!" She smiled, though she still watched his hand. "It would be my honor."

///

It should have been raining. It was too nice of a day. Crowley snapped his fingers and began to feel the first drops of cold water coming down on him. By the time he reached Greek Street it was a downpour. He could feel Nina watching him as he walked past her shop. He didn't say hello. He hadn't ever and he wasn't going to start now.

He looked at the bookshop, not inside, but at it. He could sense that bumbling angel inside. He couldn't help but wonder how she was taking to Earth. She seemed the type to be too dim to be brainwashed by anyone. He resolved to go inside. Not to see her, but to take some of his things back that he had left. No doubt that plant was long past dead at this point.

///

The bell rang again! Muriel rushed to the front. Two people to come in on the same day! It was all so exciting! Even the bookshop was excited! It was the happiest it had been in months. "Welcome, welcome!" Muriel froze in her tracks as she saw who had entered. She broke into a grin, "Mr. Crowley!"

She had seen this before, in those wonderful books! Two people who are madly in love run away from each other, then they see each other again, realize they love each other even more and never should have run, and then they kiss! She could barely hold her excitement, but she kept quiet. She couldn't ruin this moment! They had to find each other.

"How's business been?" Crowley asked. "Doesn't look like you've sold anything."

"I haven't!" Muriel answered excitedly. "Not a thing! But I learned how to make tea!"

"Did you now?" He looked at her and narrowed his eyes. "Why are you so excited?"

"Oh curse me for lying, but I'm just so excited someone has come into the shop!" She giggled, bouncing around on her feet.

"Curse you for lying?" Crowley frowned. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I lied about why I'm so excited! But it's not going to be like the books if I just told you why!"

Crowley rubbed his temples. He didn't have time for this. Well, he did, but the more time he spent in this shop the less angry he became. He wanted to be angry. And the voice seemed to shut up when he was in here. "Look, I just came to get some of my things, alright? I'm not here to have a conversation or anything." He started for the stairs. No! Aziraphale was up there!

"Wait wait wait!" She grabbed his arm. "You need to have a conversation! It's the only way to-"

"Only way to what?!" He meant it as a threat. It came out as desperation. Muriel could see his eyes now. They were sad too.

"The only way," she said slowly. "The only way it's going to be okay." Something hurt inside of her. Knowing the Aziraphale was hurt, that Crowley was hurt. It hurt her too. Water started to come from her eyes. Something in her felt like it was burning. "What's happening to me?" she asked.

"Those are tears." Crowley's voice was cracking. "You get used to them after a while. They happen when you're sad." He looked at her. "Why are you sad?" What did she have to be sad for?

"I'm. I'm sad because the bookshop is sad," she stammered. "Because the happy ending hasn't happened yet. It was supposed to. He wasn't supposed to go to heaven and make you sad. That's not a happy story. And I... I don't understand why not."

///

Aziraphale let his hand drag across the shelves. Every second fight back the thought he had been thinking since he left. This bookshop was heaven. No, better than heaven. Those were wrong thoughts, he knew. But they had become so strong that he couldn't bear to stop them anymore. He missed his shop. He missed Earth. He missed... to even think of his name was already enough. He closed his eyes. You are the Supreme Archangel. You WILL NOT think wrong thoughts.

A sound from downstairs. Crying. Muriel's crying.

///

"Not all stories have happy endings." Crowley said. "Sometimes you just have to realize that and..." he couldn't say move on.

"But would you take him? If he came back?" Muriel wiped away her own tears. "Would you make it a happy ending?"

"I can't. I'd give anything to, but I can't." He looked down. "I tried. My way didn't work. I couldn't save him from heaven. They still took him away."

Hurried footsteps down the stairs. Her head snapped up. "What if I tried?"

"What?" Crowley tried to look up but she was gone.

///

"Muriel are you alri-" Aziraphale started to say.

"Hush!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him with all her might to Crowley. She was beaming. Rain! They needed rain! It was raining outside! She had them both by the hand now, by some sort of miracle the doors were already open. She threw them outside. It was a downpour! It was perfect! She couldn't hold her excitement anymore. She'd been dying to use this word. Not one in any of her books, but one the shop had said a million times.

"VAVOOM!!!"

///

Neither of them spoke. The difference between rain and tears didn't matter now. It was just them now. Looking into each other's eyes. They didn't need to speak.

"W-would the dance be acceptable here?" Aziraphale stammered.

"Oh Angel, shut up!"

Like puzzle pieces, the two of them fit perfectly together in each other's arms. Muriel squealed and bounced happily back and forth. She looked at Nina and Maggie across the street. They were clapping.

"About damn time!" Maggie shouted.

"It's not a happy ending until you kiss!" Muriel exclaimed.

You would have never heard it or seen it, but the nightingales were thrilled. They had been dying to sing.

[rorimoon9597]

If he was known for anything, it would be his emotional maturity. Because when Pidge and Keith both floundered with refugees of all ages, Lance, Allura, Shiro, Coran and Hunk would be going around and offering comfort and a break, however small, from their troubles. It was something that came naturally to him from having such a big family.

So when Keith disappeared for two weeks without any trace after the Kral Zera, he freaked out. It was annoying for his friends, and only Coran was able to listen to his panicked rambling every single time.

Then Keith came back, and he didn't spare the details of his travelling, just that he ended up befriending a wolf that could teleport. They fought Lotor, and found out that Shiro was actually a clone and oh gods, his head hurt from all of that.

So now they were on a planet that Coran suggested they stopped on to recharge as much as possible and to relax. They were going to be heading back to Earth soon, which was exciting. Lance hadn't seen his family in so long. He wanted to introduce them to his boyfriend. He wanted to tell Adam that he finally got a boyfriend. Adam would be so proud!

But they needed to sort something out. Namely, why the hell didn't Keith call?

So Lance stood and stretched. eyes darted to him, including Shiro's eyes that had that fatherly look in them.

"Well, I'm tired. I'm going to go to bed now. Night," he said with a little wave. He walked to Red, who bent down to let him in. He could hear the others behind him, murmuring their goodnights except for Keith.

Lance went about his nightly routine, waiting for Keith to join him. It took a few minutes, in which he washed his face and changed into his pajamas, for the man to show up.

Keith was wearing his own pajamas, the wolf behind him. He walked up to Lance and wrapped his arms around him. The both of them relaxed, melting into each other. The wolf went to explore Red's interior, sniffing at things before moving on.

"I missed you," Keith whispered. His voice was deeper, and it sent shivers down Lance's spine.

"I missed you too... Why didn't you call?" He asked. He was prepared for a fight involving Keith being unable to talk at all.

"The quantum abyss didn't have reception," Keith said. Lance frowned.

"Quantum abyss?" He asked. He turned around to see Keith properly. "What is that?"

"It's where we found the planet that Lotor moved the Alteans to. If you're not careful, you can get pulled apart, atom by atom. It nearly happened to me once. Mom saved me from that." Lance gaped at Keith like a fish.

"You- what?"

"I know it sounds bad, but we were able to get to safety. There were these things that had their own ecosystem. They produced enough oxygen for humans to breathe, so Mom and I stayed on one of those while we were traveling," Keith explained. He rubbed circles into Lance's hips.

"What else happened?" Lance asked.

"There was a time dilation. So... Mom and I spent two years there." That truly made Lance's jaw drop. He looked at his boyfriend again, taking in how Keith's jaw was more defined, how his hair was longer and how he was taller now. He was taller than Lance, which meant that Keith was close to Hunk's height. That man was near six foot.

"Holy shit, you're- you aged two years while you were there?" He said.

"Yeah." Keith was watching him.

"You've changed," Lance observed, his voice soft. Keith's eyes grew... sad, almost.

"I have," he agreed. Lance smiled.

"I like these changes, you know," he said nonchalantly as he ran his hands up and down Keith's arms, feeling the newly developed muscles. They weren't like Shiro's, but they were definitely more prominent than before Keith left for the- what was it, quantum abyss?

"You do?" Keith asked. Lance swallowed. Keith's voice was going to be the death of him.

"I do," he replied. He rested his hands on Keith's chest, letting himself feel the faint thumping of Keith's heart. "You're taller than me, now, for one."

"So you like my height?"

"I like you, so I like everything about you," Lance replied, feeling satisfaction as Keith's skin colored just a bit. "Your voice is deeper as well, you know. It's hot." His arms moved to rest on Keith's shoulders, hand connecting behind black hair. Keith smirked and leaned in close.

"You like my voice, darling?" He asked. The Texas accent that Keith only spoke in when he wanted to came through, sounding better with the deeper voice.

"Shut up," Lance said. He pulled Keith into a kiss that he'd been waiting for since he first saw Keith on that screen. Keith hummed into it.

It was- it was the best kiss, for some reason. Perhaps it was because they hadn't seen each other in two weeks - at least, for Lance it was two weeks. For Keith it was two years.

"Why did you brush me off earlier? At the castle?" Lance asked when he pulled away. Keith's eyes were sad. Like, genuinely sad.

"I'm sorry, Lance. I had a mission, and I had complete the mission or else I probably would have decided to ignore it completely in favor of holding you. I... I knew that I'd do that, and I couldn't, because Allura needed to know and we needed to get revenge for all of those Alteans and stop Lotor," Keith said. Lance nodded, unable to say anything. He pressed another kiss to Keith's lips.

"I understand, cariño. It just threw me off a bit there, y'know?"

"Are you actually okay, Lance?" He paused at the question. Normally, it would take longer for Keith to ask that. Lance studied his boyfriend, ignoring the fact that they were both studying each other.

"I'm better now that you're here," he replied honestly. Keith studied him a bit longer, but eventually smiled.

"I'm glad. The past..."

"Two weeks," Lance supplied helpfully.

"It's only been two weeks for you guys?" Keith asked, surprised.

"Yes. Now, you were saying?" Keith smiled and shook his head.

"The past couple of weeks must have been hard for you, yeah?"

"The two years you spent with only your mom and your cosmic, teleporting wolf must have been hard for you. Hey, that's a good idea!"

"What is?"

"Kosmo!"

"Kos... mo..?" Lance pointed at the wolf, who tilted its head.

"Kosmo!" He said again. Keith blinked at Lance, then at the wolf. Then he turned to face Lance again.

"I guess. We'll have to see if he likes it, though." Lance turned to face the wolf.

"How's that sound, huh? Kosmo?" The wolf wagged its tail, then teleported over to them for pets.

"Alright... I guess his name is Kosmo now," Keith agreed. Lance grinned.

"Yep. And... I've been separated from you for far too long. So... what do you say cariño?" Lance asked, a grin on his face. Keith grinned back at him.

"Sure," he said. Red grumbled in the back of Lance's mind then retreated, leaving the two to their own devices. Kosmo, reading the air of the room, also disappeared.

________

"Do you want to know what I like the best about this newer version of you?" Lance asked. He traced patterns onto Keith's skin.

"What's your favourite thing?" Keith asked. Lance rested his head in the crook of Keith's neck, shivering slightly at the touch of his hand on his back.

"How you've grown emotionally," Lance replied. Keith hummed in response, encouraging Lance to keep going. "I like how you're able to talk about things much better now. The only reason why it took you so long to talk to me this time is because of the fighting, and Shiro too. But you didn't run from talking about things this time, and you apologized without me prompting."

"Mom helped me with that. We bonded a lot during our two years on that creature," Keith replied. Lance listened. He'd always liked the sound of Keith's voice, but he loved it now. The way it rumbled was comforting to Lance.

"I'm glad that you found her," Lance said.

"I'm glad that I found her, too," Keith agreed. "It was weird at first, y'know? How do you talk to a parent that's been absent for most of your life? But I learned about her story, how she met my dad and fell in love with him, how they found Blue and kept her as safe as possible. How Dad had to help Mom give birth which he had experience in. Did you know that he helped deliver babies when the mothers couldn't get to the hospital?"

"He did?"

"Yeah, so he knew what he was doing. Man, that would've been weird to explain. But Mom and I grew closer. We saw visions while we were there, in the quantum abyss."

"What did you see?"

"Us," Keith replied and oh, that was so sweet.

"Tell me," Lance said. And Keith indulged him, telling him of the things he saw. Shiro and Adam getting married and adopting two Altean children. Hunk and Shay getting together, them with a Galra child.

He told him of Matt's future wife and kids, how chaotic they were and how Pidge appeared to be a good aunt. He told Lance about Silvio becoming a cadet at the Garrison.

Then Keith told Lance about the two of them; the girl who looked like them combined that bought crystals that looked like fire and water, about her twin brother who looked like Keith more than Lance but cracked similar jokes to him. About the flying fox creature, about their wedding, how they would rebuild Keith's childhood home for the four of them and visitors.

And Lance listened, letting himself be lulled to sleep by Keith's voice.

When Keith noticed, he smiled. He pressed a kiss to Lance's hair.

"Goodnight, Lance. I love you, so, so much," he whispered.

[bullet-prooflove]

The Beauty of the End Part Six: Stay With Me - Michael 'Riz' Ariza x Reader - NSFW (Final Part)

Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life @danzer8705 @mysoulisasunflower @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @sxmmarie @librarian1002 @briefpersonenemy @creativitybeware @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @oureternalbond  @@the-person-in-the-circle @proceduralpassion @crazy4chickennuggets @callsignartemis @kmc1989

“Can I come in?”

Riz can’t answer the question because he still can’t believe you’re standing there in front of him.  He doesn’t speak, he simply opens the door wider and steps out of the way so that both you and your suitcase can pass. He doesn’t realise just how close you are until he shuts the door and turns to face you.

Your perfume floods his system. The floral scent of rose with that deep undertone of saffron, he would know that scent anywhere, he’s chased it in his dreams every night since you left for your tour.

Your eyes are still as beautiful as the day he met you, the hues of colour bleeding into the iris. He wants to touch you; he feels the same insatiable urge he always feels around you. His cock stiffens underneath the fabric of the towel, a physical reaction to having you back in his proximity.

“Oh.” You say as you look down between the two of you.

Pink spreads across his cheeks as he raises his eyes skyward for a moment.

“It’s the dress.” He tells you, because you both know what black silk does to him and he thinks that’s why you wore it tonight, to torture him a little for his crimes.

“I was kind of hoping it was me.” You tell him as your thumb sweeps over his cheekbone and guides his gaze back to yours. He isn’t sure what he’s searching for when he looks into your eyes, but he finds it. He wants to say something, to apologise, to bare his soul but he doesn't because before he can even open his mouth you kiss him and the whole thing goes to hell because for the first time in months, he feels alive.

Something inside him snaps and before he knows it he has you up against the wall, thighs locked around his bare hips. The towel is by the front door somewhere and your panties, he has no clue where they went. All he cares about right now is about being inside you, loving you. Your hands thread in his damp hair, gripping it tightly as he enters you. He doesn’t move, he holds you in place filled with him as he looks into your eyes.

“This is all I want.” He tells you. “To be with you like this for the rest of my life.”

“Show me.” You challenge him.

He kisses you then, with the fervour and passion he’s been missing from every night of those empty fucks, because they weren’t you, they could never be with you. You're everything to him. The song in his heart, the light in his soul, he’s belonged to you from the very beginning, and he’s been a fool to think otherwise.

He moves slowly, in deep strokes that leave you begging for more. That feeling inside of you, it builds like waves crashing against the rocks, every single break is too much, too long. You need it harder and faster. He gives it to you, chasing the sound of your pleasure as it rings in his ears like a chorus. You say his name when you climax and it’s like the crescendo of a song, everything reaching it’s peak all at once. All of that emotion rises to the surface, his eyes stinging as he climaxes because for the first time in a long time he’s right where he’s supposed to be, at home with you.

In the aftermath, you sit in the kitchen, one knee drawn up to your chest and your hand wrapped around a steaming cup of Lady Grey tea. Riz leans back against the work surface, clad in clinging black boxers and a white wifebeater that highlights the tattoos etched into his skin.

“I made a mistake.” He tells you, his palm rubbing over the back of his neck. “I saw all those people and I just…”

He looks away for a moment out of the window, he sees his own reflection in the darkness. There’s so many things he needs to explain and he knows there’s a risk of losing you if he does, but the two of you, you’ve never been anything but honest.

“…I felt like I was holding you back.” He says quietly. “The last time we talked you wanted to come home, I thought that you missed me too much, that if I took away the reason, you would go out there and do all these great things.”

“They’re not great things.” You tell him, your gaze fixating on the steam that curls out of your mug as your fingertips toy with the string attached to the teabag. “None of it was real. They were asking me to strip back everything about myself, to become someone else and I can’t make music like that. It has to be authentic; it has to come from here.” You tap the place where your heart resides in your chest.

“You need to know…” Riz begins, his lips clamping together almost involuntarily before he forces out the words. “I did some stupid shit while you were away.”

“Do you think you were the only one who did some stupid shit?” You ask him.

He knows you have a wild streak, that you can get a little destructive. You don’t have to tell him about New York, about the molly you did in a sex club when you were trying to forget him, or about the couple you took home that night. The same way he doesn’t need to tell you, that he’s been fucking his way around town in your absence.

“Were you safe?” he asks you, crossing his arms over this chest.

You give him a look because your reckless, but you aren’t stupid.

“Were you?” You return, meeting his gaze.

“Condoms the whole time.” He tells you.

“I feel like we should have started with this conversation.” You say, inclining your head towards the hallway, where his towel and your underwear still reside.

“Probably.” He says, his lips tipping up into a smile. “But you know things don’t always work like that between the two of us.”

“No, they don’t.” You murmur, trying to hide your own smile by taking a sip of your tea.

You know he sees it. You can’t hide anything from him.

“So, you quit the tour.” He says, taking the seat across from you. “Do you have a plan?”

“And I thought you knew me so well.” You tease him, because he knows you don’t actually think anything through before you act.

Right now, you’re homeless, unemployed, with most of your shit in storage. You’d let your lease go when you signed up for the tour, reassigned your students, handed in your notice at the record store. All you have in your possession right now is your suitcase and the dress you’re wearing.

“Oh but I do.” Riz reminds you, shifting his chair so that he’s sitting in your proximity. Your knees brush before he leans in close. “Stay with me.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” You tell him as his thumb chases over the apple of your cheek. “Since half my stuff is already here.”

“I mean it.” He says, and you can tell that he does from the look in his eyes. “Make this your home, stay here with me.”

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